There was nothing. No steady heart-beat, no breath to take. A wave of panic overcame her, she could not seem to open her eyes, nor lift her arms or even wriggle her toes. A weight bore down upon her and she began to struggle. The weight upon her suddenly began to shift and it took Pam a moment to realize it was the uncanny strength she felt aiding her as she rose from the ground. Dirt streaked across her face, through her matted hair and to her dismay, was even wedged beneath her fingernails.

The cemetery was eerily quiet as Pam surveyed her surroundings. It took a moment or two for her eyes to adapt, seeing everything in great detail, noticing more than she'd ever noticed in her lifetime. From the individual blades of grass to the droplets of dew hanging on tree leaves overhead, everything seemed much more intense and real to her. The sound of a match strike drew her attention to Tara, who lent heavily against a wrought iron fence surrounding a small mausoleum. Pam watched the flame, the tiny wisp brighter than anything she'd ever seen before. It almost made her eyes ache just watching it as it danced, Tara raising it to the tip of a cigarillo nested precariously between her lips.

Tara did not speak as she puffed away, clouds of blue-grey smoke drifting into the air. As she took a step forward, Pam hesitated. It was not only her vision that seemed drastically improved, but as she stood there, it seemed she could hear everything all at once and she clapped her hands over her ears.
"How can you stand this?" Pam asked, staggering towards Tara. Once again Tara simply inhaled on the cigarillo before exhaling, not taking her eyes from Pam's. Pam forced herself to lower her hands to her sides once more as she stood upright slowly, concentrating. Focusing only on the sound of Tara's cigar as it gradually smoked down, tobacco crackling into ash with each drag Tara took, everything else began to fade into the background. Finally able to met Tara's gaze as the woman pushed herself from the gate and flicked the butt of her cigar to the ground, Pam swallowed thickly.

"I'm thirsty." Pam announced as the thirst began to override everything else; the sights and sounds, even the alluring woman approaching her.
"It's natural. We'll find you someone." Tara assured her, her tone light and soothing. "Once we've gotten you cleaned up."
"No, now." Pam snapped and to her surprise, fangs clicked into place and she lifted her hand. As they'd snapped, she'd felt a thrill rush through her. "I'm thirsty now."
"Go after a human now, looking the way you do, will see you on the short end of something sharp." Tara informed her, the tone darkening as she spoke. "Is that what you want?"
"Of course not." Pam sneered back, equally as annoyed now.
"Then you'll do as I suggest."
"You can't make me. I could find someone now." Pam challenged.

Tara's lips suddenly parted as she gave a hearty laugh. The defiant streak she'd admired in the woman bore itself and served as a reminder to the vampire how she herself had once been; demanding, challenging every word that her own maker had uttered. The shadow of her former maker remained in her mind for a moment, her smile fading for but a moment. Pushing the thoughts from her mind, Tara focused back on Pam.

"As your maker, I command you to do as I fucking say." Tara kept her voice light, her words heavy enough with meaning without the added threatening tone. Pam stood, mouth agape, several feet from her. It was clear to Tara the conflict behind those azure eyes as Pam glanced from her maker to the nearby gate. Of course, Pam did not move, glued to the spot by the order she'd received. Frustrated, she hissed at Tara.
"What the fuck is this?"
"Like I said, I'm your maker. When I give you a command, you will follow it."
"And if I don't?"

Tara drove her hands deep into the pockets of the linen slacks she wore. A slow, knowing smile furled across her features.
"Do you have any idea what it feels like to slowly go insane? To be weighted down with silver, which burns you deeply, and confined to a coffin for a century, or two?" Tara spoke slowly, with intent as she took up a casual stroll, circling around Pam. Pam followed the woman with her gaze, turning slowly.
"No…" Pam finally answered, understanding that the question was not rhetorical.
"I'm assuming you wouldn't like to find out."
"Never."

"Then now you know what will happen if you don't obey me." Tara concluded, suddenly behind Pam's body, close enough to cause the hair on the back of Pam's neck to rise. Fearfully, Pam nodded. When she felt Tara move away from her again, she spun around.
"I'm still thirsty."
"I told you, we'll get to that. First, you need to look presentable."
"My apartment, then."
"Stick close to me," Tara said as she made a move towards the 6-foot gate surrounding the cemetery. "And try to keep up."