Dwayne parked his bike in front of the cave, less than a mile from where Trisan lived, but instead of going in he took off in a gust of wind, flying as fast as he could until he reached a tree in direct view of Tris's bedroom window. He sat on a thick branch high in the tree, one foot placed firmly on the branch with his knee drawn halfway up to his chest while the other swung lazily back and forth beneath. The bark was rough against the bare skin of his back but it barely registered. All his focus was on the girl in her room.

Tris was sleeping soundly, slumped over at a small mahogany desk, her head resting on her left arm and the pencil in her hand still poised over the notebook he had seen earlier. With a small smile, Dwayne leaned forward and, using the foot he had firmly placed on the tree, he leapt out into the night air. He slowed slightly to grasp the window sill and ease himself into the open window. The harsh yellow light that filled the room hurt his eyes so that he first shut it off and then took the pencil from Tris's limp grasp. Carefully and gently picking her up, Dwayne carried her over to her bed with her head resting in the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his neck. After making sure that she was comfortable he passed by the desk, about to make his exit when he saw his jacket draped carefully over the back of the chair and a smile appeared on his face. The smile was still on his face even as he flew into the cave, a feeling of high coursing through his system that no drug could produce.

Before he even entered the cave the vampire could hear Paul and Marko yelling and laughing with mindless joy. When he walked in Paul had Marko in a headlock but as soon as he saw Dwayne he quickly released him to pound the brunette on the back.

"So," Paul said. "How'd she taste? Was she good?"

"I wouldn't know. " Dwayne said, the broad smile softened on his lips and he gazed at the broken chandelier that rested in the center of their home but he didn't really see it.

Paul's jaw dropped when he saw the expression on Dwayne's face. "No way." He said in a quiet breath. "She's not…is she?"

"I'm not sure." Dwayne sighed and dropped back onto the dusty couch with the torn sheets to cover it, his feet resting on the arm rest. "I don't know how she feels."

"You know what happened to James, don't you?" Paul asked in a quiet, uncharacteristically quiet voice.

"He knows." David answered for him. He was looking at them all from his seat on the wheelchair; twisted so one leg was thrown over the arm and one arm draped over the back. "We were there."

Marko had been silently during the conversation, trying to fix his hair after Paul's headlock but he couldn't resist asking, "Who's James?"

"A vampire." Dwayne said solemnly. He snapped out of his trance-like state and rejoined the conversation with his full attention.

"He was a friend and a damn good vampire." David added as he lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. "Poor son of a bitch found his mate."

"Mate?" Marko asked.

"Everyone has a mate, one they're supposed to be with. Being supernatural we feel the pull more than mortals. They can love different people and never find their mate even if they're out there but we can only have that one person. Hell, we live so long most of our mates are either dead or haven't been born yet."

"But what happened to James?" Marko moved Dwayne's feet so he could hop up on the arm of the couch.

"He found his mate and died." Paul answered, pantomiming a blade cutting across his throat.

"How?"

"It's hard to be immortal, find someone who's almost literally your other half, and know they're going to die." David answered.

"He turned her." Dwayne finished. "Made her one of us. But one night he was with us and she hadn't fed yet."

"So she went alone. He wanted to be with her but she told him to go with us." David paused and took a long drag from his cigarette before continuing. "Vampire Hunters got her. It was awful. One moment he's laughing and the next he's trembling and losing his mind. He screamed like a banshee and just flew off."

Dwayne's face darkened with a scowl as he finished. "We found him with her body, blood everywhere. We tried to get him to come with us but he wouldn't move. We even tried to physically move him but he wouldn't move. It was as if he was rooted to the spot, he wouldn't let go of her body. The sun was coming up so we had to go. We came back the next night to find police tape all over the place but there was nothing but ash and blood left."

There was silence for a moment before David rose to his feet, extinguished the cig beneath the heel of his boot, and looked at Dwayne with a steady gaze. "I hope you get what you want. You deserve it."

"I hope so too, bud." Paul tossed an old picture frame at him playfully to lighten the mood and dodged it when the other vampire threw it back before following David to the place where they slept.

The sun was coming up; he could feel it in the way his body seemed suddenly drained of energy but he resisted the urge to close his eyes and drift away and instead studied Marko who had his knees drawn to his chest and was staring off into space.

"How do you know?" The blonde asked suddenly. "How do you know if your mate is dead, alive, or yet to be born?"

"You would know if they were dead; you'd feel empty. For mortals their mates are alive though because of circumstances they may have died. That's why it's so easy for them to move on. For vampires we have no way of knowing. We just keep looking with this feeling of being incomplete until we find them." Dwayne answered.

"When you were with her did you feel incomplete?"

"No." The tall vampire replied immediately and without needing to think of it.

Marko nodded. "Then she's the one. She's your mate."

A grin threatened to split Dwayne's face. "Yeah, she is."

He watched Marko follow Paul and David's footsteps into their sleeping area and the grin slowly faded as he remembered James holding his beloved's body with a blank, haunted look etched onto his face. The vampire wondered if he could handle something like that happening to Tris. Maybe it would be better to let go and wait for the emptiness rather than feel a blow so sharp it resonated deep down into the core of one's soul and shattered the fragile sanity, making a person forget who they were before they ever met that person. But then could he deny the joy he felt when he simply touched her hand or saw her smile? Could he push away the only person that could make him feel complete? He could lose his mate of his own freewill or he could turn her, if that was her choice, and live moment to moment fearing what could happen to the both of them.

Tris woke sometime later in the evening, arching her back like a cat while still laying down and noted for once she had fallen asleep in her bed rather than on the straight-backed wooden chair at her desk. She sat up quickly and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her mouth twisted in a frown when she saw she had left the window open from last night. After quickly shutting the window, Tris padded to the bathroom to clean up. A toothbrush still dangling from her mouth, she stepped into her uncle's room. His room was neat and clean, product of a strict military background, unlike her own and had nothing in it but a bed and dresser. Seeing his work shoes gone; a clear sign he had gone to work, she padded back into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later to return to her room, kick aside a few fallen notebooks, and change into a different pair of faded jeans from the ones she had worn the night before and a band tee. She knew it was cool out so she took her uncle's worn, dark grey college hoodie along with Dwayne's leather jacket with her before leaping down the stair like a gazelle.

Before heading outside, she slipped on the hoodie and leather jacket and hugged both tightly to her body for warmth, telling herself she would take a quick walk before coming back to meet Dwayne.

By the time she made it to the boardwalk the sky had darkened to a dull, lifeless grey color and the beach and boardwalk was beginning to crowd with locals. Tris turned on her heel before she could get stuck in the crowd, hoping to make it back in time to catch Dwayne when she ran into two bikers. She muttered an apology and brushed past them only to find they were following close behind.

"Can I help you?" She asked in a dangerously calm voice, turning around to look them each in the eye. As she did, her hand slipped into the front pocket of her jeans to finger the Italian switchblade with its ivory handle her father had given her the year before he died.

"Maybe you can." One said with a leer, his green eyes glinting with excitement as he reached out with one greased stained hand to touch her face.

Tristan cringed away from his touch and twisted back as the other biker tried to grab her arm. The knife forgotten, she slapped him hard enough so that he staggered back a few steps.

"Grab her, Sticky." The one she had slapped cried out.

The one named Sticky reached out for her but she jumped back, this time drawing the knife from her pocket, the blade gleaming in the dim light from the stores that held people too far away to hear any cries for help.

"Look, Warren." Sticky said to his green-eyed partner. "Things just got a lot more interesting."

They both pulled out their stop blades, taking out the blades with a skillful flick of their thumbs.

"Stay away from me." Tris warned, holding the blade chest level.

The bikers split up and backed her into the side of an old abandoned store. The one, Sticky; with his tangle of dirty blonde hair, stepped to her right, distracting her so his counterpart, Warren, could knock the knife from her hand. The blade clattered to the ground just as she turned suddenly in a reflexive attempt to attack and ultimately twisted her ankle. With a small cry and her heart hammering in the prison of her chest, Tristan curled in a ball as the two bikers lunged for her but she never felt the cut of their blade or their hands on her body. She was so frightened she never even noticed the roar of motorcycles.