Chapter 2

Anaïs woke with a start, startled by the thunder and lightning rumbling outside. Her face was covered in sweat and she wiped it. She looked around, noticing the unfamiliar surroundings. She looked around until she saw him again. The guy with the beard.

"Morning Glorious," he said, leaning back in the chair he was sitting in. He wore a white wife beater, khaki colored cargo pants, a black belt with a cow skull as a belt buckle, and the same boots he was wearing when she first saw him. His shirt exposed his body, showing off his sinewy muscles and his bulging veins. He tipped the chair forward and placed his arms on his thighs.

"How are you feeling?" he asked his eyes boring into hers. She looked at him, but she was too afraid to answer.

"I'm not gonna knock you out again, or anything," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. He stopped laughing as soon as he saw her scared expression. He cleared his throat and looked around, feeling a tiny bit flustered. She sat upright and her top rode up, exposing her stomach. He stared at it, but quickly looked away when she noticed him looking. She pulled down her top, blushing a little.

"I'm..fine," she whispered, answering his question. He looked up at her, a surprised expression on his face. Then he broke out into a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"So you do talk. What's your name?" he asked. She was hesitant to tell him her name, but he seemed trustworthy.

"Anaïs," she replied, avoiding his gaze. She continued to look around the sparse room.

"Anaïs? That's an ingenious name," he said sardonically.

"What's your name?" she countered.

"Hannibal. King." he said.

"I bet that's popular with the ladies," she said, feeling less frightened. He was taken aback by her sarcastic comment; she didn't look like the type that joked. He didn't let his astonishment show.

"They happen to love it," he said, leaning back again. She smirked at his egotism.

"Why am I here? And why did you hit me?" she asked, gently rubbing the side of her head.

"Your friend," he said to her.

"What? You wanted her number or something? She wouldn't have knock you out or anything," she said pointedly.

"Alright, enough with that, I'm sorry I hit you," he said childishly. "I didn't want her number. She was a familiar."

"Familiar?" Anaïs asked, looking him in the eye. He guessed that she didn't have the slightest clue to what he was talking about, so he showed her the one thing that he hated about himself. He lowered the waistband of his pants.

"What is that?" she questioned, looking at his pelvic region with interest. She reached out to touch it, but the material of his pants resumed their position. She looked up at him, then looked away.

"It's a vampire glyph," he said.

"Vampire glyph? You mean they exist? No. This is some joke right? I'm on Punk'd or something" she said.

"I wish. As much as you want Ashton Kutcher to walk through that door, he won't. He's probably fucking Demi this very second," he said in his usual crude manner.

"Vampires?" she said lowly.

"Yeah, it takes a while to get used to the idea," he said. "Anyway, your friend. Did she have something that looked like that?" he questioned. She tried to recall whether Christina had any markings on her body, and she remembered the day that they went to the beach and she saw a similar marking on her hip. She had meant to ask her about it, but had forgotten.

"Yeah, yeah, she did, on her hip," she said to King, looked dazed. "What do they mean?" she asked.

"It means she works for them," he answered somberly. She looked at him and began to back away.

"Then that means you work for them, too," she said.

"No, no, no, no, no, no," he said quickly, approaching her, "I used to be one. I'm not anymore. I was cured," he said, a look of hatred crossing his face.

"Cured?"

"Yeah. See? No fangs," he said, opening his mouth wide in front of her face. She chuckled lightly, and he grinned. She had a pretty smile.

"You hungry or anything?" King asked.

"A little."

"Well, come with me. You can met everyone and we'll you something to munch on," he said extending a hand in her direction. She looked at it, then took it. They left the room and headed toward the kitchen.

They entered the kitchen, and everyone turn to greet them. She recognized the beautiful girl with the auburn hair, but everyone else was foreign to her.

"Who's this?" a short man with dark hair asked.

"It's Sleeping Beauty!" a little girl with straight, coffee colored hair exclaimed. The girl smile up at her and she returned the sweet gesture.

"This is Anaïs. Anaïs, this little runt right here is Zoë," he said as he tickled the girl. She laughed and swatted his hand away.

"This is Hedges," pointing to the short man who had previously spoken, "Dex, Sommerfield, Abby" he concluded, nodding to the girl he had been with at the club. Abby nodded and gave Anaïs a small smile, which she returned.

"And I'm King, but you know that already," he said jokingly.

"Hi," she greeted all of them timidly.

"Now where's that biting wit that I was greeted with earlier? I'm sure everyone would love to experience that," King said expectantly, with his hands at his waist. Anaïs glared at him and felt herself blush.

"Don't worry about him," Abby said, "He just recently found out how much of a dick he was and he's not too pleased about it," she said, smiling.

"Hey! I'm standing right here, you know."

"What's your point?" Abby asked him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"You know you love me, Whistler," he jokingly lisped. She flipped him the bird, and he blew her a kiss in return. Anaïs quietly laughed at the pair. The others had left and they remained. Whistler, as King had called her, was making tea, while he was looking through the cupboards.

"Alright, what are you hungry for?" he asked.

"Cereal?"

"What kind?

"Cap'n Crunch?"

"My favorite," he grinned, as he pulled out the box. He retrieved a bowl, a spoon, and some milk, and prepared it for her. He placed it in front of her and she began to eat it.

"So, Anaïs-,"

"You can call me Ana,"

"Why didn't you tell me that?" King asked. Whistler gave him a look, telepathically telling him to shut up.

"Ana," Abby began slowly, "did you suspect anything weird about your friend?" she inquired.

"Not really. Sometimes sketchy some people would come up to Christina, but I never really thought anything of it," she replied.

"Vamps," Abby said, looking at King.

"Or familiars," he added. Ana looked at both of them, not knowing what to do.

"You can't go back home," Abby said suddenly.

"Why?"

"They know who you are now. They'll hunt you down," she said, looking apologetic.

"Where am I supposed to go?" Ana asked them.

"Well, you can stay here," King suggested, "Do you know how to use a gun?"

"Here?" Abby whispered.

"Yeah, she can become a Nightstalker," he said. Abby looked skeptical, and for a long time silence filled the room. Then she spoke.

"We do need more people around, but I don't want to risk it," she said.

"Well," King started, "why don't we let her decide if she wants to stay?" They both turned and looked at her, the same way they had at the club. She remembered everything she had seen. So much death surrounded her. Something inside her told her that she couldn't let that happen anymore. She couldn't let those…..things do that anymore.

"I don't know how to fight," she told them.

"You'll learn," King said, taking a sip of his beer.

"I need to get my stuff," she said, "My clothes and stuff."

"You don't need clothes around here. I'm totally comfortable with nudity," King managed to say with a straight face. Abby gave him one of her looks.

"We have to be quick. They could be there," she said to Ana.

"Alright."

"Okay, let's go."