That smell…

H.G swung her head back and forth trying to pinpoint the object of her senses desire. It had been over a century since she last inhaled something so intoxicating.

She took off, the shadows jumping to hide her presence from the mere mortals who plagued the streets, their lives served no more purpose than to feed the flitting vampire. The Victorian bound over a large metal fence, the alleyway cloaking everything but a few flashes of moonlight, H.G turned the corner to see a couple pressed together at the entrance of a conjoining alley.

H.G's senses told her that the one of the couple was Myka…

But there was no way that Myka could have survived…

The Victorian silently slid forward, the shadows ever her only companion. On closer inspection the female of the couple had curly brown hair just like the love she had lost all those years ago, but something was wrong, the male; his head pushed against the cold wall, was being… drank from.

"Myka?" H.G whispered, placing her hand on the female's shoulder, her heart fighting with her brain as to how this could be possible. The female whipped around and in a split second had the unsuspecting vampire pinned against the opposite wall, snarling fiercely to protect its food. "Back off his mine" the female growled shoving her forearm into H.G's neck, even if she didn't need to breathe the action hurt. "Myka?" H.G asked again, her eyes tearing at the sight of the females black eyes, this wasn't her Myka; it was nothing but a monster… Just like herself.

"Who the hell is Myka?" the female asked, her expression softening slightly at the tearing woman, only slightly. H.G composed herself and allowed her inner monster to emerge, her vision filling with the black cloud of her animalistic nature, she shoved the female away from her and ran off, the shadows once more her only solace.

"Wait!" the female called; her body was wreaking havoc with her brain, the only thing she could process from the mixed signals was that she needed to find the fellow vampire, now!

/

H.G leapt up onto the side of an old sculpted building, her arms clinging to the curves of art, she allowed her inner demon to stay in control, the ex-agent needed time to think about how this was possible.

She had seen Myka die in her arms, the blood pooling around them, Bram Stoker had captured her lover during a mission at Warehouse 12, slowly torturing her over several days. When the Victorian finally found her location it was too little too late. The animal had experimented on her obviously; the needles and tubes protruding from her limbs were evidence of that. He had a large array of brightly coloured beakers placed on the ends on the foreign injections, pumping Myka full of drugs and poisons no human could survive, but somehow she did.

H.G ran inside the animals crumbling castle, tesla armed and ready, her only guide was her lover's loud cries of pain and anguish. She swept her arms back and forth in the trained moves of a Warehouse agent, her eyes determined.

The ex-agent turned into the grotesque laboratory only to be injected swiftly with a small syringe of dark red liquid tinged with light green specks. The scientist jumped back in preparation of H.G's reaction, he was at least smart enough to do that, the English woman let out a cry of surprise and swung her arm around and knocked her forearm against the animals temple. She grimaced at the ungraceful crumpling of his skinny frame; that was going to hurt later, but not as much as what H.G was going to do to the sad excuse for a man.

She approached her lover's side and took a handful of needles out, droplets of blood appearing at the leftover holes. The younger woman's head rolled over lazily to look at H.G, she grimaced at the missing obstructions, "Helena" she whispered, her bloody arm rising slowly to cup her lover's neck.

"Myka, do you think you can walk" H.G asked pulling out another handful of needles, carefully this time, from the younger woman's neck, the holes creating a small stream of blood down her already pale neck. The Victorian realised that she wouldn't be able to pull out all of the needles without killing her partner, she looked at Myka's face and saw only concern for her health.

"Helena are you ok? Did Stoker hurt you?" Myka whispered coughing slightly at the strain it was taking her body to work. H.G smiled slightly, reassuring her lover that she was fine. The younger woman returned the gesture and pulled H.G in for a light embrace, the 30 or so needles left in Myka's body making it hard to move.

The English woman sighed and picked up her lover gently, cradling her to her chest, Myka gasped in pain but made no indication of her wanting the Victorian to stop. H.G looked down at Myka's staining neck and started to breakdown inside "My love I…" H.G started pulling the younger woman as close as she would allow, her selfishness was fighting her need to keep Myka from feeling any more pain. "Helena, we are not ones to say goodbye, we never have been, we are above that and you know it." Myka breathed, oxygen wasn't working as well as before and she was starting to see black spots in her vision.

"Please don't say goodbye, I will always be with you, in your thoughts or your heart, I will never leave you." The younger woman cupped her lovers neck "I love you Miss Wells, I just hope that we meet again someday, in this life or the next" Myka raised her body, despite the fresh wave of excruciating pain emitting from every crevice of her limbs and kissed the woman she had grown to love.

If death was going to be stubborn and take her just when everything was good and right in her life, then at least she would kiss the only reason she lived, one last breath of life before the cold clutches of death consumed her.

H.G remembered the woman's last touch like it had happened only hours ago, after the sweet contact had broken the woman died, her last breath shuddering and strained. The vampire clenched her eyes in pain and sadness, after that day something had broken inside of her, her lovers brother Pete, had tried to console her as well as Charles but she was too far gone. Then Christina died, the last ray of light left in her life was extinguished and the shadows became her only companion.

With all of the goodness gone, the injection that Stoker had plunged into her started to work. Her upper jaw twisted and pulled into large fangs, stretching over her bottom lip, her back cracked and morphed into a taller more lithe shape with unbounding flexibility and strength. Her once pale skin rippled and bubbled, showing off the bulking up muscles and hardening sinew. H.G's eyes were the worst of all, her eyes plunged into the darkest onyx any eye has been graced to see, the once whites turned a blend of maroon and small pulsing specks of green.

The pain was so excruciating that when she lost her vision to the darkness, the Victorian had fallen off the balcony of her 3 story home.

Only to land feet first…

This couldn't be real! Stoker had written of such a phenomenon but never had the woman really thought it a possibility.

She was a vampire.