A\N: won't let me post vamp stuff, so I'm doing vamp stuff here.
She never knew pain felt good.
It was powerful, so powerful, the feeling of sharp pain in her neck. Then the blood draining into his mouth...
She laughed bitterly to herself, tracing the scar on her neck.
Kimberly Hart, Pink Ranger, a vampire...
If only her friends could see her now.
The scar reminded her of being turned. Of awakening in a soft bed, him standing over her, watching her. She'd never learned his name, just his face.
He'd learned everything about her, pretended to be kind and romantic, bedded her and opened the shell she'd fallen into. She'd never seen him eat, known that they were in a vampire's castle--he had even told her himself--but really, she hadn't known he was a vampire.
Not until he'd drunk from her.
Once he'd known everything, he'd nestled his head into her neck, gently nipping her skin. She'd moaned, enjoying the contact.
Then the pain had enveloped her.
She'd wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth, something inside her changed. She'd moaned again with delight, feeling herself fill with pleasure and desire as he drained her blood.
When she'd drunk his blood, it had awoken her. The only reason she'd drunk was because she hadn't been able to help it. Her body had reached for the blood and then she had fainted.
When she'd woken, the kind, dark man she'd known turned into a monster. He laughed at her tears, not bothering to woo her anymore. She'd already willingly given him everything he wanted.
Every time, after the torturous games of cat-and-mouse, always ending in that bed, he'd drunk from her. Sometimes he drank from her while he bedded her, and if she shut her eyes, she could pretend it was the same, still wonderful and good.
But then she had to drink from him.
He would beat her if she didn't, always where the bruises could hardly be seen. He wanted her beautiful. And eventually the hunger caught up to her. She had nearly attacked him, let him use her while she thirstily drank his blood.
She would never be used like that again, she told herself firmly, shaking away the memory of that second feeding. She was one of the few middle-grounders now. No good, no evil, just what was nessecary.
She'd even found a lover. A real lover, not like the monster she'd staked and left in the sun.
Tommy called to her now, his heart as well as his words. She went to him, smiling.
He tasted so good.
And to a vampire, that was everything.