I blame Mandy for this Plot bunny. She made the suggestion on twitter and I couldn't get it out of my head...so instead of working of Carry Me Home...I did this...oops. There's more...but I'm not sure how diligently I will be working on this. Meh, Lemme know what you think, guys.

PROLOGUE

Jesse's brow burned with his fever as he slipped out of consciousness. His body wracked with tremors, he could take the pain no more. His older brother, Luke, could only sit on the swivel chair in front of Jesse's wooden desk and watch as his body tried in vain to fight the vampiric blood that assaulted it. Jesse cried out and his body jerked, the springs of the old mattress on which he lie on squealing in protest. Aubrey placed a cold washcloth on his forehead, a small attempt to comfort him. He seemed not to notice the cool rag even when she wrung it out over his face, the water mixing with the sweat that rolled off his face in streams. Jesse's body jerked again and Aubrey saw the muscles in his jaw clench. She didn't hide the doubt on her face as she turned to look back at Luke. Jesse had been like this for the past three hours. Luke, who had not lifted his gaze from his younger brother since he had first collapsed, flinched when Chloe, the only human in the room, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Do you think he'll live through it?" Chloe asked softly. Luke shrugged.
"At this point, it's hard to say," he sighed, shaking his head. He shuddered as he recalled the pain of his own change many years ago. Going through the change was always a coin toss. That's why there were so many sanctions on changing someone. Had Luke been part of the Brotherhood-the vampire equivalent to a coven, he would have been killed for Jesse being changed without permission. Usually only the exceptionally strong survive. On the rare occasion when some one's body didn't fight the change so violently, what was left at the end of the ordeal was a weak vampire. And weak vampires usually didn't live long.

"I just don't understand," Chloe whispered mostly to herself, knowing that Aubrey and Luke could hear her quite clearly. "How did this happen? How did this happen to Jesse and Tara?"
"I don't know how the fuck it happened," Luke swore uncharacteristically. Jesse's body shuddered violently once more, his hands fisting in the sweat soaked sheets that he lay on.
"Tara!" he cried out in his delirium. Luke felt his rage finally build up inside him, shoving aside the shock that had kept him calm and numb until that moment.
"Who ever did this will pay for what they did to my brother," Luke hissed, standing finally and turning away from the bed where his brother lay, potentially dying. "And for what they did to Tara. I swear…If I ever find out who did this…they will pay." Aubrey said nothing but turned her gaze back to Jesse with and unreadable expression on her face.

CHAPTER ONE

Months later

Beca sighed as she dropped the box that she was carrying onto the kitchen counter. "Last one," she said aloud. She swept a few strands of her dark brown hair out of her face and took a sweeping glance around her apartment. There were boxes everywhere and her sparse furniture was placed randomly about so that there was just enough space to navigate her way from the front door to the kitchen. Too bad she had not thought to make a path to the bedroom where her mattress and boxsprings lay on the floor, the bed frame leaning in easily transportable pieces against the wall. Her want for sleep, however was not quite as keenly felt as her need for food.

"Guess dinner would be a good idea right about now," she grumbled. She glanced back into the kitchen. No help there. She had no food. "Hmm…." she muttered thoughtfully, weighing her options. She could get into her car and try to navigate her way to the nearest fast food restaurant in a city she had just moved to or she could…

"Yep, pizza sounds like a great idea." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began to dial information to find out which pizza place delivered at eleven o'clock at night. Within fifteen minutes she had found a place and ordered a medium pizza with pepperonis, olives, mushrooms, and peppers and a two liter of root beer. Pressing the end button, she sighed loudly.

"Well," she began. "Guess I could get as much of the living room together as I can before the pizza gets here."

By the time the delivery person knocked on Beca's door she had moved the couch and her TV stand, along with all its contents to where she wanted them to be. She was in the process of getting her TV, Stereo, and DVD player hooked up when she heard the knock. Straightening up, Beca rolled her sore shoulders, and picked her way through the gauntlet of boxes to the front door, stopping to get her wallet out of her purse on the way. She paid the boy who waited outside and took the box of pizza and the root beer that he held and shut the door, careful not to touch his hands, without a word, her focus entirely on the food she was handling. She exhaled slowly and shook off the impatience she felt pulsing from him.

"Yes," she murmured as her nostrils filled with the scent of the pizza. Her stomach growled in protest that she was not already stuffing food into her mouth. Beca lifted her gaze to the living room again with dismay. "Maybe I should have put together the table instead of focusing on the couch and TV," she grumbled, annoyed at herself. She shrugged, however, too hungry to really care. She carefully balanced herself on her left leg while using her right foot to scoot a largish box closer to the couch.

When she'd finished with that task she sat gingerly on the faded brown cushions of her couch and placed the pizza box on top of the box that she had just moved. Her stomach growled again as she opened the box and pulled out a single slice of pizza.

"Time to see if it was worth the move from Chicago," she said to herself before taking a bite. She chewed slowly, using her free hand to reach for the TV remote.

The pizza was satisfactory she decided as she finally grasped the remote, flipping on her TV. The channels were fuzzy, her cable wouldn't be hooked up for another couple of days, so she flipped to the least fuzzy news channel, glad to have some white noise as she ate. She took another bite as she stared at the anchorwoman, only half-listening to the report she was giving.

"Interesting reports have been made by several club-goers these last few weeks, Ken," the woman commented to her co-anchor though she never took her gaze from the camera. "It appears several women have disappeared while at several dance clubs in the metro area."

"Same shit, different city," Beca mumbled through a mouthful of pizza. She glanced around her apartment, wondering which boxes and what room to unpack when she was finished with her dinner. The bedroom would probably be the best idea. Just so that I can be sure that I have a place to pass out from exhaustion.

"Authorities have not been able to draw any direct correlation between the missing women, " the anchor woman continued.

No sense in putting the kitchen together until I have food in the apartment, Beca continued to herself. Though it might be nice to get the table put together….just to have another surface to set shit down…

"There have been no witness accounts as to what may have happened, nor any evidence that would suggest foul play."

I could finish setting up the living room just so that I have some way of distracting myself from unpacking and then just put sheets and blankets on the bed so I can sleep….yeah…that's a good enough plan for tonight, Beca decided as she finished her third slice of pizza. She wiped her hands on her faded and ripped up jeans before reaching for the root beer. She twisted the cap off and held the two liter bottle up to her lips taking a few large gulps before setting it back down beside the box she'd used as a table. As she stood she stretched, reaching her arms up above her head.

"Needless to say, police are advising women to be more cautious when going out and to make sure to stay within your group for safety. Back to you, Ken."

Beca sighed as she stooped down and reached into an open box. With her mind on several different things, Beca forgot to be on her guard as she reached into the box. She suddenly yanked her hands back out of the box as though she'd been stung, stumbling backwards onto the floor. The sob she choked on had nothing to do with the pain on her backside.

"Goddamnit, Mom," she cried in exasperation. It took a few moments of gasping breaths with her eyes closed before Beca was able to get control of herself. She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, trying to reign in the emotion surging through her. Wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, she shifted till she was on her knees and peered into the box to see the booby trap her mother had left for her to find. There, tucked discretely between two picture frames, was a white card. Beca sighed. With her mental guard in place she reached in and, touching only the edges of the card, lifted it out. She set it gingerly on the carpet in front of her.

On the cover, written in scrawling calligraphy, were the words My Daughter. Beca flipped the leaf of the card using her finger nail. More cliché calligraphy about maternal love. And at the very bottom was her mother's neat cursive.

Beca,

I know you feel that this is something that you needed to do to discover yourself. Just know that I love and support you always. And I wish you luck in trying to sort out your problems. Call me if you need me. Love you always,

Mom.

Beca sighed again. She didn't need to touch the card to see her mother, in her mind, crying as she wrote her note. I know you don't understand why I had to leave, Mom, Beca thought, shaking her head. But I just can't live in that big city anymore. Dad was right. There are too many people, constantly around me there. And I just can't take it. I can't be in a place where I can't walk down the street without touching someone. I can't hide what I am there.

It was the same reason her father left. Beca could remember all the times her father had grumbled "There's not enough room to feel your own emotions in this city." Beca's father had the same gift, or curse as she considered it, as she did. Beca could read emotions. If a person was within a five-foot radius of her Beca was able to feel whatever emotion was occupying their mind, disrupting her own emotional stasis, like ripples in water.

And if Beca touched a person she would feel every emotion rioting inside the person as though they were her own, as well as a few thoughts. Her ability also worked with items that other had touched, if she did not have any mental guard in place. Whatever emotion a person was feeling when they last touched the item, Beca would feel it just a strongly as the person who had touched it. Needless to say, it hindered Beca's social development as a child. And her father had not stuck around to teach her how to deal with it.

Beca been only ten years old when her father had left her and her mother, well, she'd been her step mother back then. But after her father had disappeared without contact for a year Sarah, her step-mother, filed for abandonment and then gone through the process of adopting Beca.

Beca had never known her real mother. According to her father, she had died when Beca was still a baby. He had never divulged any information about her death or even about the kind of person her mother had been. He had simply told her "Your mother was someone I knew when my life was very different. After she died I cut ties with everyone and everything I'd been raised with and left to find a normal life." Then he would sigh and his gruff voice would soften.

"A normal life is all you should want, Beca. No matter who you are, or what people say, you choose your own life. And you have every right to choose a normal one." He would not answer any further question on the subject and after a few years Beca stopped asking.

She drew in a few calming breaths to make sure that there were no residual effects lingering from touching the grief-filled card. "Might as well hit the sack," Beca grumbled. "I don't have the strength to deal with any more possible booby traps." She rose stiffly to her feet and made her way to the box she knew contained her bed sheets. Opening the box she pulled out the pale blue fitted sheet and then rummaged until she found her favorite quilt. Deciding that would be enough for tonight she made her way back to the bedroom.

Jesse released the young blond he'd had his arms around and watched as she slumped, completely limp, down into the back seat of her car. He struggled to return his heavy breathing to normal. His fingers tingled, and every inch of him itched for more, always more. It kept him awake most days; ruined his focus on anything other than hunting. Even when he did manage to sleep his dreams were filled with blood.

Still wrestling with his thirst, he stared hungrily at her. With conscious effort he moved his gaze from the two neat incisions at the nape of her neck. They still bled slightly, though the anti-coagulants in Jesse's saliva were quickly losing their potency. The bleeding punctures would quickly heal, leaving nothing behind but a small bruise, in a matter of minutes. She would be dead not long after. But it wouldn't matter. She would never be traced back to Jesse.

No one would recall this girl dancing with him, talking to him, walking out of the dance club with him. No one would recall seeing Jesse kissing her, holding her, his hands ghosting over her curves to dip below the belt line of her tight jeans as they climbed into the back of her car. And certainly, no one would have seen Jesse's teeth sinking into her neck and his lips fastening over the punctures they made to suck and lick the blood that gushed. No, the simple glamour Jesse had woven around himself and the girl would see to that. It wasn't hard. Most humans were so determined not to notice anything they couldn't understand or explain. It was what creatures like Jesse depended on.

Having shifted his gaze to her face, he noticed the girl's change in appearance. Her cheeks, which had been rosy from the alcohol and her dancing, were now ashen. Her bouncy blond curls were tangled and stringy. He reached out and let the pads of his fingers ghost over her cheek. She was cold. She'd been so warm before. He had been too busy enjoying the taste of her to watch as her pale blue eyes clouded over. He watched as her chest labored with her shallow breathing. He could hear her heart beat, once loud as a drum, now as faint as a whisper.
As he stared at her his thoughts, which had been wandering back to some of the other girls in the bar that would be just as easy to lure out into the parking lot, suddenly drifted to his brother, who was also back inside the bar, waiting for him.
Ah, Luke, he sighed inwardly. Luke, the Saint. Jesse shook his head. Luke would not be pleased with him, not that his older brother would ever say as much when they were in a public place. But Jesse knew what he would be thinking. They had had that discussion too many times.
"You need to work on controlling yourself, Jesse," Luke's words echoed clearly in his mind. "You have to use your head. Every chance you take makes it easier for a hunter to find you." Jesse growled as he climbed into the front seat of the little Honda. "I can handle a hunter," he'd replied flippantly. Luke's eyes had flashed and for a second, Jesse was sure Luke was going to thrash him. But Luke, always the pacifist, had regained his composure instantly.

Fishing into the girl's purse that she had haphazardly tossed into the front passenger seat, he deftly extracted the keys from her purse and started the car Seconds later, he was backing quickly out of the parking spot and zooming away from the club. It would take him less than thirty minutes to dispose of the car and the body. And then he could make his way back to the club to meet back up with his brother. Easy as pie, he thought confidently.
"Jesse, it's that exact over confidence that a Hunter counts on! Hunters are smarter and more ruthless than you. You're still too new at this. You'd be killed before you could blink your eyes." As soon as Jesse recalled that memory, he dismissed it. He was strong, even for a relatively young vampire. It seemed being not quite human came naturally to Jesse. Even Luke had been shocked at how quickly Jesse had taken to the change. He did not shy away from hunting or feeding like some new vampires did. And under Luke and Aubrey's close watch he had quickly learned to how to use his new found strength and abilities.

Aubrey would also be inside the club, waiting on him. Since he had been changed, she seemed to be the only person urging him on to exercise his new potential. She'd never liked Jesse much when he was human, though. In truth, he'd never been fond of her either.
Jesse had known Aubrey from before his change. He'd known her since he was a child. She had been an ally for Luke when he had been changed by a young vampire who had lost control.

When Luke had turned sixteen he had gotten emancipated from their father he had packed Jesse, then eight years old, and a trunk full of Jesse's clothing up in his old truck and together they had escaped their apathetic father.
They spent the next seven years in the small, rundown studio apartment that Luke had found to rent as normally as they could. Luke got his GED so that he could start working instead of being hindered with scholastic responsibilities. Though he was relentless that Jesse not only go to school every day but that he should be a straight A student as well. So Jesse spent his time focused on school while Luke worked two jobs so that they could pay bills and buy clothes and groceries.

Jesse was just about to turn thirteen when several of Luke's friends had dragged him out to a bar for his twenty third birth day. It hadn't been the first night that Jesse had spent alone. Luke usually worked a graveyard shift at least two nights a week. But when he hadn't heard from his older brother by noon the following day, Jesse began to worry. It wasn't like Luke to not call to check in, much less not come home. To make things worse, none of Luke's friends seemed to know where he was either.

Jesse wouldn't see his brother again for two long weeks. Two weeks of going to school and pretending that there was nothing wrong. Two weeks of answering the calls from Luke's two jobs and lying about Luke being too sick to work. Two weeks of agonizing over whether to call the police. Luke had never gotten legal custody over Jesse. There had been no need. Their father hadn't spared a second thought over Luke's statement that he was taking his younger brother with him except to slur drunkenly "Make sure you get all of his shit out of this house, then. I don't wanna be tripping over anything the fucker leaves behind."

Jesse would have chosen painful death over the possibility of being returned to his father. But his fears that something bad had happened to his older brother grew every day. He had finally resolved to call the police and report him missing when Luke finally made his return.

It was the middle of the night when he had stumbled in to their apartment gasping and covered in blood, waking a terrified Jesse who had been sleeping on the couch. He blanched at the sight his brother presented, blood covering his slashed T shirt and what looked to be a smear of blood on his chin. Aubrey, who Jesse had never before seen, had been a step behind him, her anger clearly written over her pretty features.

Jesse had kept his mouth shut and watched as Luke and Aubrey argued. It didn't take long for Jesse's mouth to drop in disbelief in what he was hearing. She had mostly berated him for losing control and for being reckless and nearly getting killed by a hunter. He listened to Luke defend himself and then watched in horror as his brother broke down, denying his belief in what was happening to him. Aubrey had no sympathy for him.

"What's done is done. Get over it," she had said coldly. Jesse listened intently, hanging on every word as she ran down the list of rules that Luke, as a vampire, would need to follow in order to keep his life. Luke had wept when she told him that he would never get rid of the thirst for blood. Jesse had stayed silent until Aubrey finally stood up and spoke one last piece of advice.
"If you want to be accepted into the Brotherhood, you'll need to follow every single law that I just told you. And," at this she turned her stone colored glare upon Jesse with full force, "You'll need to leave that behind. No unnecessary contact with…humans." The last word was spoken with distinct disdain. It was then that Jesse finally moved off the couch and spoke.
"Fuck you, bitch. My brother isn't just going to drop me to go with you!" Aubrey and Luke's movements were so fast that Jesse hadn't been able to follow them. But suddenly Aubrey and Luke were wrestling on the floor just a few feet away from Jesse, horrible snarls and growls coming from them. Suddenly Luke leapt away from Aubrey, standing in front of Jesse.
"Listen, I…appreciate your help and advice," Luke spoke, his voice so coarse that Jesse barely would have recognized it as his if he hadn't seen his brother's mouth moving. "But I think I will be refusing your coven's….invitation." Jesse, who had turned his nervous gaze back to Aubrey, watched as first hurt then frustration colored her features.
"Whether or not you join the the Brotherhood," she spoke, her voice almost musical. "Follow the rules. It's not just a simple matter of the Covens getting irritated with you, though that should be the first thing on your mind. It's a matter of attracting Hunters." With those words she'd turned on her booted heals and walked out of the apartment, leaving Jesse and Luke alone.
From then on, though Aubrey had little to do with Jesse, she had remained an ally and even a hunting partner to Luke for the next ten years. She coached him on controlling his thirst. Though she never again mentioned to Luke that he should leave Jesse, she still constantly reminded him that humans were food. Not friends. But Luke, who had had his humanity stolen from him, refused to forget that he once was.
He remained Jesse's guardian. He made Jesse finish high school, encouraged him to make friends with the right crowd, gave him a curfew, and forced him to engage in extracurricular activities. Just like any normal older brother would. And when Jesse graduated from high school, Luke encouraged him to go to college. He was determined to make Jesse live the normal life he'd been cheated out of.

Thirty minutes later, Jesse shook himself out of his reverie. He was cresting the three steps that led up to the door of the club. He absently wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to make sure that he bore no traces of his earlier activities. As he passed through the heavy doors to the bar his eyes swept through the throng of sweaty people dancing until he located Aubrey. She was already moving towards him, a tight lipped smile on her pale face. It only took seconds for Aubrey to reach him.

"Finished with your drink?" Jesse snorted at the snide tone in her voice.

"Finished with yours?" he countered. Aubrey's blue eyes darkened though her smile widened. "What's wrong with my choice in food?"

"She was a whore," Aubrey snorted. Jesse chuckled and shook his head.

"She was just food."

"You don't have to feel your food up, Jesse," Aubrey returned pointedly.

"I like blondes," Jesse replied, shrugging. Aubrey shook her head, her long blond hair cascading over her shoulders.
"I thought she was just food?" Aubrey needled. Jesse shrugged again. "Didn't your parents ever tell you not to play with your food when you were a kid?" she pressed.
"Yeah, but back then my food didn't have D cups." Aubrey lost her smile.
"Men," she seethed. "What is so great about big tits?" Jesse merely shook his head, discretely glancing at Aubrey's less than impressive bosom.
"More to play with," he answered cheekily. Aubrey cocked an eyebrow as she fixed a glare at Jesse. She opened her mouth as if to speak but stopped as though she'd changed her mind. Jesse watched suspiciously as her smile returned and she closed the distance between Jesse and herself.
"You never complain when you're playing with mine," she spoke in a husky voice, pressing her body against Jesse. He seemed unaffected by her actions, however.
"Who am I to pass up a chance to play with tits?" he replied, nonchalant. Aubrey's glare darkened once more.
"Am I interrupting?" Luke asked, clearing his throat as he joined the two. Aubrey stepped away from Jesse.
"No, you're not," she spat, walking away. Jesse and Luke watched her disappear into the crowd. When she was no longer in sight Luke turned back to his brother.
"Finished eating?"
"Yeah."
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"Do you wanna wait for Aubrey?"
"Nope." Luke regarded him for a second before turning and heading for the door. Jesse followed suit.
"I told you not to fuck her," Luke muttered as they stepped into the heavy night air. Jesse sighed.
"Well it's not like I have anything else to do." Luke shook his head.
"There's plenty you could do," he started. Jesse interrupted him with a snort.
"Like what?" he asked acidly. Luke wouldn't even look at him.
"I dunno, Jesse. Get a job. Go back to school. Just do something." His voice was quiet, pensive, waiting for his younger brother's reaction as they walked through the dark parking lot towards Luke's car.
"Why?" Jesse countered his tone angry. "So I can pretend to be fucking human? Why the fuck would I want to do something like that?" Luke suddenly whirled around on him, grabbing his collar and shoving him to the gravel covered ground.
"Look, I know you don't want to be reminded of the fact that you're not human anymore," Luke growled, glaring down at Jesse, who was too taken aback to respond. Outbursts and aggression were so unusual for Luke that his younger brother had no idea how to react. "But the longer you go around, trying to forget what you were like before you were changed, the harder it is to keep what humanity you have left. So I suggest you get your head out of your ass and decide what you want to do about your situation. You're losing control, Jesse. You're getting reckless and you're putting your friends in danger. If a Hunter catches on to you…." Luke let the threat hang in the air.
Jesse, who had been staring up at his brother in shock, nodded, his russet eyes narrowed at he picked himself up off the ground, dusting off his grey shirt and dark jeans. Luke stared him down for a few seconds longer before turning around and continuing to the car.