Beth froze as she heard the unknown man in her room take a heavy step towards her. He must have rescued her from the drunkards in the alley, but for all she knew he could be a bigger monster than the three of them put together. She couldn't trust him.

"How do you know my name?" she bit out, hating the way her voice shook. "And how did you know where I live?"

"The reason I know you," the man said quietly, "is because your father sent me to… take care of you."

Beth had expected anything but that. Her pulse began to pick up, and as her hands grew clammy at the mention of her father, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and threw off the sheets covering her.

"Scum," she spat out at the man, closing up the distance between herself and the man in three short strides, until she was sure he was standing right in front of her. "I don't know what kind of sick joke you're playing but you should leave." She put her arms out in front of her and shoved hard at him, but it felt like she was pushing against a steel wall.

"Elizabeth, stop this," he growled, his voice almost… commanding. He grabbed her wrists and held them down by her sides, and at that moment Beth hated him.

She hated the way he restrained her with much greater ease than he should have; he hated his voice and how confident, how sure it was; she hated that he'd come into her house and claimed that he knew the one man she'd spent her life hating.

Worst of all, she hated that she hoped with all her heart that he was telling the truth.

"Calm down and listen to me," he said in a softer tone, loosening his hold on her arms. "I'm not lying. Your father – he was brother to me. You might think that he cares not about you but he has been watching over you. Even now. That is why I am here."

Beth very nearly lost it. Turning away from the man, she forced herself to take a breath before she spoke. "If you're not lying, if that man is so worried about me, then why isn't he here right now? Why hasn't he been to see me even once in the last twenty-five years?"

She expected him to stutter, to make up a shit excuse about the man who was supposed to be her father, but instead he only said, "He was afraid you wouldn't accept him."

Beth wheeled around. "Why wouldn't I? Unless he was deep into some illegal shit-"

And then the pieces fell into place in her mind. Your father – he was brother to me.

Was.

"That's why you're here, not him. He's dead, isn't he?"

When the man didn't answer, Beth nodded to herself. "Gang fight? Drug bust? Never mind, I don't want to know. So he sent you as a bodyguard, is that it? To make up for all the times he wasn't around?"

The man took a deep breath, as if he was suddenly very tired. "If you must know, he has always watched over you. All these years. He was careful never to appear in your life, but he could never quite stay away, either."

Beth didn't know what to think. What this man said challenged everything she'd thought about her father, but she knew it could be true. Probably was true. Hell, how many times had she thanked her fairy godmother for things that shouldn't have happened? She was under-qualified for her job in customer service but she got it anyway; even this apartment she had gotten for way, way less than it was worth. Life wasn't easy on her own, but even she had to admit that it could have been much harder.

If it weren't for…

Beth had to sit back down on the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to cry. She'd been so wrong, for so long.

"And what you're thinking, about the illegal dealings, is not true." The man came over to her. "Your father and I, we are – different. Unusual. And soon you will become like us."

Beth frowned. What he was saying sounded like the script out of a Scifi movie, and it scared the hell out of her.

"I know you're afraid," he continued. "And this will be hard for you to believe-"

"Just tell me. Let it rip." Beth almost laughed out of nerves. All that build-up was just making her more and more frightened.

"As you wish, Elizabeth. The pains you have been feeling in your head, your limbs, the fainting bouts; these are signals that your body is ready to change… into a vampire."

There was a second of silence as the words hit her. Then Beth felt like she was going to faint again.

"I – Let me lie down… for a second."

As she eased her body back onto the bed, she felt a hand behind her head and another on her back, supporting her.

Vampire.

The man was a vampire, but his hands on her felt like a man's, and his voice sounded like a man's. Beth knew she should have been afraid of him, but funnily enough, she wasn't. In that instant, it felt like he was the only person she had to depend on, who knew what she was and would be going through. She… trusted him. It was probably the stupidest thing she could do right now.

Or perhaps the smartest.

Wrath stood at the foot of the bed, watching as Elizabeth lay with her eyes closed, her breathing gradually slowing to a gentle, even pace. God, she looked like an angel. He had to look away, his gaze bouncing around the few pieces of functional furniture in the room, resting anywhere but her. Staring at her while she was sleeping, completely defenceless, just seemed like he was violating her in some way.

Ten or twenty minutes must have passed, and he thought she had fallen into sleep for sure, when she opened her mouth and spoke in a small voice.

"Do you eat people?"

Wrath turned. Her eyes were still closed, and for a moment she seemed just like a child – scared, alone, helpless.

"No," he said slowly, testing the air for the scent of fear. "We feed from others like us, though of the opposite sex. Human blood does little to sustain or nourish us."

"Will I be… hungry a lot?" she mumbled.

"No," Wrath said again, feeling like a hypocrite. At that moment he was so starved that he anxiously needed Marissa, but he suppressed the roar of thirst into a low rumble. All in the mind… "At the beginning, you will need to feed from a male every two or three days, but it gets better. I only require blood every few weeks."

At that, Elizabeth raised her head and looked at him. Her deep brown eyes were unfocused and slightly hazy, but even then her gaze was unfaltering. Even then, she was the most beautiful female that had ever laid eyes on him.

"Will I be feeding from, uh-" Colour rose to her cheeks, staining them red. "-from… you?"

Sweet Virgin in the Fade, Wrath cursed inwardly. Just the thought of bringing his wrist to her lips and nourishing her with his own blood made his partially docile penis surge to life with a vengeance. But after the transition, another male would have the honour and pleasure of doing that for her. He would see to it. Heavens knew, he did not make a good hellren. And she deserved so much more than that.

"Yes, initially. When you go into transition you will need blood to complete the process. Darius asked me to seek you out for this reason. It will happen soon, Elizabeth, and I intend to take you to our compound before then."

Or maybe take you, right here, right now.

"Beth," she uttered, and for a second Wrath thought he had voiced his thought out loud.

"Pardon?"

"You called me Elizabeth. I prefer Beth," she said with a small shrug. "Well, that seems rather insignificant now."

Wrath shook his head. Then he caught himself, and said, "No, of course not. You can call me Wrath."

And as Beth said his name, Wrath realized it was the first time he saw her smile.

He never felt happier.

Dear God.

Beth realized she had practically come to terms with talking to a vampire - to becoming a vampire. But hearing Wrath talk about being one just made it seem so normal, as if it were simply an alternative lifestyle. And maybe things would turn out to be okay. Maybe she would just be an average vampire living an average vampiric life.

For now, though, all she wanted was to live her average human life for just a little bit longer.

"Wrath? About going to your compound and preparing for my transition and all that, can we start tomorrow? I mean, for tonight I kind of just want to be Beth Randall the human and sleep in my own human bed."

She felt a little selfish about the request. After all, the guy came all the way here to take her to his place for her safety, and here she was wanting to stay.

But Wrath just said, "Sure, one night wouldn't hurt."

In the silence that descended upon them then, Beth thought about asking him about what her father was like. But then she imagined herself turning into a bawling mess and embarrassing herself in front of him, and decided against it.

"I'm sorry for what I said about my father. It's just that my whole life, I've thought of him as this huge villain who didn't give a damn if I lived or died. And then one day I find out otherwise - but I guess it's too late either way."

"No… he would have been happy to hear that. He loved you very much." Wrath's voice was tinged with sadness, and Beth guessed that the wound from her father's death was still fresh. Which made her feel even guiltier.

"So… about my father…" Beth started, unsure of how to phrase her question. "You said he's like your brother, so that means you must be – what, close to fifty? That kind of makes you my uncle, doesn't it?"

Wrath chuckled, and he sure as hell didn't sound like a middle-aged man. "Oh god, no. The others and I have been alive for hundreds and hundreds of years, but physically, I look closer to your age. So did your father, which would have been strange, actually."

"Well, maybe being a vampire has its perks after all," Beth joked. "But speaking of physical appearances… I don't actually know what you look like. If it's not too rude to ask, do you mind if I, uh," she hesitated. "Uh... look?" She held up her hands, in case he didn't quite understand.

There was a beat of silence, and Beth thought he was going to refuse. But he didn't. Instead, she heard him walk quietly to the side of the bed where she lay, and she heard the rustling of his clothes and felt the weight upon the bed where he sat next to her.

"Go ahead," Wrath muttered, and Beth was almost startled at the proximity of his voice.

Trying not to blush, she lifted her right hand and felt for his face.

The first thing she noticed was the lack of facial hair, because for some reason she had pictured him with stubble. Then she began creating the image of his face in her mind as her hand felt his chin-length hair, his strong-set jaw, the groove just south of his cheekbone, his closed eyes and lastly, his thin but well-shaped lips that let out a soft moan as she stroked them. Good god, he was a stud. She hadn't expected him to be that beautiful.

What she also didn't expect was the surge of lust that hit her, almost like a physical pulse of energy. It left her lips dry and her body wet between the legs, and out of nowhere she ached violently for the man in front of her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she licked her yearning lips and pressed her palm against his cheek, her thumb brushing across his lower lip.

"Kiss me," she heard herself say, but her voice didn't sound like hers. It was far too needy, far too urgent, far too… aroused.

She felt his jaw tighten under her palm, and just when she anticipated the feel of his lips against hers, he stood up and moved away from the bed.

"I cannot do that," Wrath said, and though the lust left her in that second, what replaced it was the heavy thud of rejection.

Beth's face burned, and she fought the urge to cover it with the sheets. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I don't know what… came over me."

"Maybe I should go," he said, and a second later Beth heard something being placed on the nightstand. "I will leave my cell phone here, and call before I send someone over to pick you up tomorrow morning. If you need anything, dial 1 and you will get me."

Beth just nodded mutely, her eyes lowered. God, she was so ashamed of herself. She hadn't wanted a man that badly since she was sixteen, and she sure as hell hadn't come onto a man like that before. Worst of all, he hadn't even shown any interest in her.

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Wrath cleared his throat, and then Beth felt his fingers lift her chin. In a much softer voice, he said, "Believe me, I want to kiss you. But it's not right."

Beth knew that he was only being nice. A man who was as handsome as he was wouldn't want a girl who looked like she did. But as she counted the steps he took towards the door, she could have cared less about her shame, or her pride. She just felt so, so alone. And she didn't want him to go.

There was the creak of the doorknob, and the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Wrath, please stay with me tonight."