My house has always had that 'spooky charm', as my friends used to call it. They said it was the only reason I had bought it. It had antique chandeliers, authentic cobwebs and what I liked to call growing pains. Those were the noises that my friends couldn't find reasons for. They didn't bother me; if it wasn't someone or something coming after me or something breaking, it didn't bother me. I thought it was natural for a house as old as mine to have so many memories and mysteries that it had to release something every now and then. All the old ivy and rickety stairs made my friends uneasy, yet I loved it. Needless to say we hung out more often in town than my house.

Today had been one of those days, we did a little window shopping, had some lunch and Lea and Annie went home. I spent some time at the library and then came back to my charming little abode. There were rumors around town that I was eccentric and gothic. I really wasn't but at least it gave people something to do. I walked in the kitchen and laid my stuff on the counter. The afternoon sun filtered in through the window but the adjacent hallway was dark and there was a lump on the floor. I flicked the lightswitch and nothing happened. Sigh. My power went out a lot. It was probably just my cats all curled up on the floor. I turned my back and went to go get some milk before it spoiled.

I heard shuffling out in the hallway. "Girls want some milk?" I called out to my cats. No sound of little paws on the hardwood floor. Odd. At least Shasta would take me up on my offer. I heard more shuffling. I stuck my head out into the hallway. "Girls?" The lump had shifted. It was bigger than I thought – bigger than my cats. I had a brief moment of panic. Was it a wild animal that had snuck in?

The lump shuffled some more before it became still again. I was still frozen, half in the kitchen and half in the hall. There was a good chance if I made lots of racket and opened a door it would leave. I slipped back into the kitchen and through the sitting room to the far end of the hallway. I opened the back door and grabbed the broom. I opened my mouth to start yelling when the lump shuffled some more. My voice died in my throat.

The lump groaned. It sounded like a man. Holding the broom out in front of me, I creeped closer. How in the hell did this guy get in my house? I had locked my doors and I hadn't noticed any broken windows. Was he homeless and just curled up on the floor? I really wish my power would come back on so at least I could see.

The man moaned and I could see he was trying to get up. He was struggling and his arms gave out. He panted and gave a little whine. He sounded like he was in pain. I lowered my broom. Maybe he was just looking for some help? I got my phone out just in case I needed to call someone.

The man kept trying to get up. I walked a little closer, wanting to help but still cautious. He didn't seem to notice me at all. He was on his hands and knees, panting. Where he was laying looked wet and I could see something dripping from his jacket. I walked a little closer. It was a sunny day and it had been a while since we had rain. The sun had moved and bounced off the wall. I caught a glimmer of red.

"Is that blood?" I asked, unable to hold myself back. I rushed over and knelt down beside him. He didn't look at me but his panting slowed.

"Get. Away. From. Me," he wheezed out. What? He was in my house bleeding all over my floor and he wanted me to leave him alone?

"No." Lea always said I never had much sense. I started calling Annie, she would get here much faster than any ambulance and she was a nurse.

The man started growling! "I said go away!" he shouted. Annie picked up.

"Ann get over here quick-" Faster than I thought an injured man could move, he reached out, grabbed my phone, and gave it a quick squeeze and broke it. Shattered glass rained on the floor. I let out a small shriek.

"I said…" he panted some more. "Leave me alone." He turned to look at me. In the dusky haze I made out startling blue eyes and a face full of scars.

"And I said no." Usually I wasn't this persistant. I avoided confrontations. But he needed help. I started grabbing his shoulders to lift him up and he started growling again. Was he a wild man who had spent too much time with animals? The stupid idiot locked his arms and started resisting me.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what the hell you're doing in my house, but you're hurt and I'm going to help you. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice." I looked at him until he answered my gaze. He sighed and loosened his arms.

We made it to our feet and I made him lean on me. He was tall, much taller than me, and heavy. I buckled my knees to keep from falling underneath him. Something told me that if he went down again, he wouldn't be getting back up. We tottered back into the kitchen and he fell into a chair. In the light, I could see his red shirt was a deeper shade of red and wet. I went to unbutton it and he grabbed my hand.

"Don't."

"You need to get this bandaged!"

"I need blood," he whispered, so quietly I almost didn't hear it.

"What?"

"Blood," he repeated louder. "I need blood."

"The nearest hospital is an hour away, if we patch you up we could probably hold off on a transfusion-"

"No." He looked at me and I knew what he meant. My fingers left his shirt and I took a step back. Hunger shone in his eyes. I licked my lips and swallowed. Was he going to attack me? Could I outrun this wounded man?

He sighed and broke eye contact as if he could read my mind. "No I'm not going to attack you." He clenched his fist and banged it on the counter. I jumped.

"Please." He looked at me again. Instead of hunger there was sadness. He was going to die if he didn't get blood, and not a transfusion.

I liked reading fantasy books. But that's all they were – fantasy books. There was no truth in them. I didn't think for one second that he was something supernatural side. So that left the psychotic side. Right?

Against my better judgement I raised my hand and offered him my wrist. Slowly, almost reverently, he took my arm gently and pulled me closer. My heart was racing and adrenaline was raging full force. He caught my gaze and I couldn't look away. He brought my wrist up to his face and breathed in, closing his eyes. Fear was almost getting the better of me. He opened his eyes again and brought his thumb to my skin. He pushed down and broke the skin. I didn't feel anything. Blood swelled on my skin and he put his thumb over it. He locked eyes with me again. He brought my wrist closer to his face. My breathing hitched and I was on the verge of panting. Reason was screaming at me to run fast and far but his eyes whispered stay. He brought my wrist to his lips, closed his eyes and drank.

My anticipation broke. I expected pain. I didn't expect a warm feeling. He hummed his contentment while he drank. I closed my eyes and let my head tip back. It was the same warmth that a hot shower gives. I could feel his lips on my skin and they were rough. I don't know how long we stayed like that but eventually the warm feeling left me and I started getting cold. Panic started rushing back on me but now I was too weak to do anything about it. He gripped my wrist tight now and was gulping down my blood. If he didn't stop soon…

He threw me away with a cry. I fell against the wall and lay on the floor. It was cold and the ceiling was starting to look fuzzy. I could still feel my wrist leaking. I tried to see what he was doing, I tried to get up to get away, but I stayed where I was. Over the buzz in my ears I could distantly hear him sighing in relief and resignation. His face came back into view and everything fazed out. Curly orange hair framed a scarred and weathered face. Underneath there was still a trace of handsomeness and those blue eyes glistened with sorrow. He picked me up like I was nothing and sat me in the stool where he had slumped. He lifted my wrist to his lips and kissed it, the cut healing before my eyes.

"I am sorry." I tried to tell him we still needed to get him bandaged and that he shouldn't be standing, but he seemed strong. He stood without wavering while I leaned over the counter and tried to stutter out words. "Shh. Let me help you." I blinked and he was handing me a glass of water. Where had that come from? He held me up with one hand and helped me hold the glass with the other. I felt a little better.

"Emmaline! Em are you in here?" I could hear Annie busting through the front door yelling at the top of her lungs.

I tried to tell her where I was but the man beat me to it. "She's in here!" he called out. I could hear her pounding down the hall.

"What – What happened?" She rushed over to me and took over holding me up. She started talking all sorts of nurse jumbo and running around to get the first aid kit, completely ignoring the man dressed in all red.

"Well then I'll just be going…" he turned to walk out.

"Wait!" I tried to call out to him. Both he and Annie stopped in their tracks. He hesitated and turned around to meet my eyes. There seemed to be static in the air, maybe we would have a storm later. Then Annie broke the trance.

"Who the hell are you?" She still stood by the fridge, kit in hand.

"Larten Crepsley, at your service,"he said with a bow.

"Well," Annie said, rolling with it. "You can start by telling me what happened."

"Your friend was very gallant. I was doubled over on the ground and she stopped to help me. When I leaned up, she thought I was covered in blood and fainted. It was merely stage blood and I carried her inside and started tending to her, a job you can do better than me."

I started to protest and pointed weakly at his shirt. Annie got the hint.

"That doesn't look like stage blood to me."

"Well," he said working on the buttons of his shirt, "I am not in the habit of undressing in front of ladies but to rest your fears," he opened his shirt to reveal his toned torso, covered in scars, but not a single open wound. No blood, no weeping cut, not protruding insides, just muscled scarred skin. I didn't mean to, but I stared.

Was it a rouse? Was really pretending to be hurt? I could have sworn on my life that he was in inches of losing his own. His pain was so genuine and he seemed so weak. But now staring at the strong man in front of me, it was hard to say.

Annie seemed confused. She sent me a glance, she didn't believe him.

"Thank you for your concern, ma'am, but I am afraid I have to take my leave. The show waits for no one." He turned and this time, my weak voice did not stop him.