A/N: Sequel to Victoria's Lullaby since I got such a big response and I'm absolutely psyched for Eclipse! Yayyy!

"nothing satisfies me but your soul"

RPOV

A breeze washes over my face, yet I cannot feel the chill it must inevitably bring along with the rain—also warm against my skin.

"Riley," she says, and I turn toward her, tearing my eyes from the cars zipping by on the Seattle street below.

Victoria sits against the cement wall of the roof behind me. She brushes her fingers through her flaming hair and I blink, mesmerized by the pearl elegance of her fingers pulling through the waves of ruby.

"Yes?" I say, pulling my feet from where they are dangled in the air so I can swing one leg over the cement partition separating me from solid ground and empty space.

"I'm sending you out," she says, rocking forward on her heels and rising to her feet. To a mere human, the movement would have been incomprehensible. But with my newly sharpened senses, I watched every fluid motion with intense credibility.

When Victoria changed me a week ago, I had no idea what was going on. When I, you could say "woke up", and found myself under the coverage of trees and moss, my senses only sharpened in the darkness of night, Victoria was no where to be found.

But the scent I could remember hazily from somewhere faraway was stronger in the wind, and I followed it, finding her deep in a clearance, feasting over a human's body.

It didn't disturb me, it only drew me closer, the sweet metallic taste flaring a burn in my throat that couldn't be ignored.

Now, I rise to my feet, perching on the edge of the cement wall. Victoria examines my stance with wary pitch eyes.

"To where, may I ask?" I inquired, locking my arms behind my back, rocking back and then forth, revelling in the ghost of anticipatory fear in the empty cavity of my chest, when nothing but open air meets my back behind me.

Her sensual lips curl into a curvaceous smirk and she steps closer to me, the pads of her bare feet slapping against the damp cement. As she emerges from the covering shelter of the wall behind her, rain drips into her hair, running down the column of her throat and I feel something stir in me.

"Riley," she says as she leaps up onto the wall beside me, rising onto the balls of her feet to balance herself. She rests a hand to my chest, sliding one leg between my feet so she can move closer. She shakes her head, pursing her scarlet lips.

I clear my throat—a human reaction I have not yet shaken. "Yes?"

"Riley, Riley," she whispers now, her face inclining toward mine. She brushes her lips against my own, and I close my eyes reflexively. "Riley," she whispers now, lifting her hands to grasp my jaw. I open my eyes to find her staring at me. The white graphic t-shirt she wears is soaking through. "I'm sending you out to find our next recruit."

"Recruit?" I repeat dumbly.

She grins nodding her head and presses her lips to mine again.

"I trust you," she tells me after she pulls away. Her crimson eyes flicker. "Now go."

I swallow, and then step away, leaping from the roof. I grip the bar of a streetlight in my hands, swinging on it to lessen my velocity and drop the remaining ten feet to the pavement.

As I land, I glance up to the roof where I was formerly standing with Victoria. I catch a glimpse of her—her body illuminated by the orange streetlights around me. I see her watching me for a fleeting moment, and then she turns, leaping back onto the roof, disappearing from my sight.

I'm walking through the park when I smell it—notes of Water Lilly, Ripe Guava, Dark Chocolate and Vanilla; but more than the perfume that this girl is so obviously wearing, I can smell her blood.

My nostrils flare, and my feet shift in the direction of her scent—without my mind even having to compel my body.

I pull up short when I see her sitting on a swing—her off white dress almost shimmering I the moonlight. One strap has slid off of her shoulder, revealing the creamy, delectable flesh of her shoulder, stretched taught over her slight bone structure.

I swallow the venom on my mouth, moving closer to her. She doesn't hear me approach, and I lower myself into the swing next to her, the clink of the metal chains catching her attention.

She looks up quickly, her hair swishing against her rib cage, and she swivels her head toward me so quickly that her scent rippling toward me so steadily that it takes me aback. How can the scent of her blood be so strong even though she's not bleeding?

"Hello," I say, trying to make my voice soothing.

She blinks, and a tear dribbles down her cheek. She lifts her fingers to wipe it away. "Um," she says, "hi."

"What's wrong, if you don't mind me asking?" I inquired, beginning to rock the swing back and forth, trying to look as human as possible.

She raises her head, looking around the empty park, and I hear the rate of her heart escalate.

She draws in a shuddering breath. "I'm fine," she excuses, dragging her feet through the soft sand beneath us. About a foot away, a pair of grey flats rest.

"Well," I urge, "you don't seem fine. You're crying." And I reach up to run a finger along the sticky trail a tear has left on her cheek.

Her heart pounds at her ribcage and I bite back my grin. Who knew I could have such an effect on a girl?

"No, I'm not," she blurts finally.

"You're not fine, or you're not crying?" I try to clarify.

She shakes her head and rises from the swing, the chains clattering noisily in the otherwise silent night, and she slips her feet back into her shoes as she says, "I should really get going. I shouldn't be out so late."

"Wait," I entreat, rising to my own feet—my ascent much more fluid and silent than hers—and step after her, grasping her wrist, "let me walk you home."

She gasps, probably at the chill of my skin on hers and yanks against my grasp. I let her go, and she stumbles back slightly. Her eyes are wide on my face—probably because we've stepped into the light and she can see how dark my eyes are.

I think I hear her whisper "What are you?" but I can't be sure.

It's long stopped raining, but I see goose bumps manifest on her skin anyway. She takes a few more stuttering steps back, yanking the sleeve of her dress back up onto her shoulder.

"I really have to go," she insists, and starts walking again, though much quicker this time.

"No," I say—maybe snap—and stride after her, grabbing her arm again, yanking her to a stop. She yelps at my violent pull. I could have easily matched my stride with hers, but I chose to stop her.

She stares wordlessly into my face, more tears welling in her eyes. "Let me go," she says in a shaky voice.

"Why won't you stay and talk?" I ask, ignoring her request, pulling her closer.

Her warm palms rest to my chest, and she shoves—probably as hard as she can—but neither of us budges.

"Let me go, please. I need to go home," she pleads, her voice wobbling even more.

"C'mon," I say.

"Let me go right now!" she demands in a louder voice that echoes throughout the park.

"Fine, Jesus Christ," I say and release her, shoving her back at the same time.

She loses her balance and topples over. She makes contact with the asphalt sliding a bit, and the smell of blood fills my nose. Accompanied with her pounding heart, it makes her even more irresistible.

She splutters, lifting her elbows, examining the scrapes there. There's one on the back of her shoulder, but she can't see that as she twists to examine her elbows.

"Ow," I hear her say, sniffling.

I kneel beside her, and she gasps at my seemingly sudden of an appearance, scrambling to her feet. Her dress is dirty again.

Drops of rain begin to fall once more, wetting her hair, and causing the blood to run down her skin.

"Let me see," I suggest, moving closer to her and grasping her wrist, deciding to ignore her futile struggling and pleads.

I run my finger along her arm, picking up the trail of blood and pop my finger in my mouth, tasting the sweetness. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the heavenly taste.

She's crying now as I grab her by the dress, pulling her closer to me. I move her hair out of the way, pressing my nose to her throat, taking in a breath, inhaling the delicious smell.

"Stop," she whimpers, "get away from me."

"You smell delicious," I whisper before I can stop myself, "can I have a taste?"

"What?" she shrieks, now in pure panic mode. "No! Let me go!" she pushes against my shoulders again, but I only hold her tighter, grabbing her wrists in one hand so I can render her defenceless—not that she'd had the smallest amount of a chance before…

She's sobbing and writhing, sputtering out words that not even I can make out.

"Don't fight," I murmur, ducking my head to press my lips against her neck, feeling the blood pulse there, so easily accessible, "it'll only hurt more."

A sob rips from her throat, and she squirms in my arms surprisingly strongly. "What?" she demands, "What will hurt more? Let me go, please, just let me go!"

I press my teeth to her jugular vein, pressing hard enough not to pierce the skin, but to feel it sag under my stronger body.

I take another deep breath, feeling it burn down my throat, and suddenly she just goes limp in my arms. The slight weight of her body sags against me, and I pull away, peering into her blank face.

It's a greyish color, and her eyes have rolled back into her head.

"Oh, God," I hear myself whisper. What did I do? Did I kill her? No, no I didn't kill her. I can hear her heart still beating, she's still breathing.

"Riley," a musical, exasperated voice sounds from behind me, and I turn, forgetting all about the girl in my arms, allowing her to topple in a crumpled heap on the ground. "You're not supposed to make her pass out; you're supposed to change her."

Victoria materializes next to me and stoops over to pick the girl up, carrying her over to a nearby bench, laying her out on it.

She bends over the girl, smacking her in the cheek, attempting to revitalize her.

Rain drips down around us.

I join her, kneeling next to the girl's head, watching as her eyeballs move behind her lids.

"For God's sake," Victoria is grumbling, "wake up."

And just like that, the girl opens her eyes, reeling for sight. When she finds my face her eyes widen, and she sits up so quickly that she slumps over. Automatically, I reach out to grasp the back of her neck to keep her from hitting her head.

The heat there emanates into my wrist.

She mumbles something incoherent, but before she can work out the words, I lean in to whisper something in her ear.

"We're vampires," I say, and I can almost see her look at Victoria, "and you're going to join us."

And then I bite her, the sweetness flooding my mouth like sugar, melting on my tongue, dripping down my throat.

But I manage to stop, pulling away after only a few pulls.

My ears are ringing, and I shut my eyes, shaking my head to clear it.

I feel Victoria's hand on the back of my head.

"Good job," she praises, "good job."