Inu-Mun: Hello everybody! Sorry it has taken so long to get back to updating this thing. But I am here now, so let's get started shall we?

Warning: Slight lemon in this chapter, there will be a warning when it begins so you can skip over it if you like.

Saira woke up with a start, gasping for breath and grabbing at her chest. She hadn't had an incident that intense in a while. It had been so long since that night. The night when her whole life changed. The one person who loved her unconditionally, died in the most awful way imaginable. Her body was still heaving, trying to bring air into her lungs, and regulate her heart beat. After a few moments she was able to calm down and start on the day. Her homework and backpack were all packed and ready. So all that was left was to get herself ready. With a sigh and no small amount of groaning, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, stood up and headed over to the closet.

Her day-to-day wardrobe was pretty simple: jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, trainers, and mismatched socks. Why mismatched socks? It was a tradition her mother started, she said nothing good ever happens when you're wearing matching socks. She was almost eighteen now, she'll be applying to Uni soon, and she still wears mismatched socks. Sometimes when she would dress the twins they too would wear mismatched socks, but only if she was sure her father wouldn't see; he became incensed very easily.

Selecting a pair of faded jeans, a purple short sleeved shirt with a slight v in the neckline, and her usual pair of trainers she set about finding a hoodie. Ah it is getting to be laundry day isn't it? Most of her good hoodies were dirty which left the one she really did not want to wear today. Her friend had gotten it for her as a gag gift one birthday when she was still piecing everything together about the events of her mother's death. Vampires killed her mother, and that caused a bit of an… obsession. Every movie, book, and piece of mythos she could get her hands on was rapidly devoured. So her friend got her a hoodie with "Vampires Suck" emblazoned in a bleeding gothic print. And considering she might have a guest this morning who just might take offense to it; she didn't want to wear it. But it was too chilly outside to not wear one on a maybe, so she added it to the pile and padded barefoot to the bathroom.

The bathroom she shared with her younger siblings was nice, but what she really liked was the lighting. Her mom loved old Hollywood style dressing rooms, so the bathrooms had big mirrors that covered the entire wall surrounded by lights. The lights made your skin glow, made you seem flawless; a great way to start the day. Her pajamas were pretty plain, loose baggy pants and a large nearly threadbare t-shirt. Her hair was a literal mess, the waist length black hair was tangled and poufy. She grasped her hairbrush and started running it through her hair, the detangling process took around ten minutes and a few tears. When she was done her hair was back to its natural, wavy, shiny, state.

Next was the part that was the worst overall; covering up the bruises. Color correcting, concealer, foundation, concealer, and setting powder. All to disguise the fact that her father could not look at her without seeing her mother's ghost. It was an odd thing to be someone's ghost and also a living person. Hovering between life and death, what is and what isn't… never being a whole person.

She put on a pink laced edge bra, her shirt, and her hoodie. Next was pants but as she was bending down she glanced in the mirror and saw it was fogging up. Which was very strange considering she hadn't run any water? Hands came forth from the mirror, clad in white gloves- wait what? Followed by red sleeved arms, next came his head, face grinning that maniac grin. Saira's heart was pounding in her chest, ice moving through her veins.

His aura radiated with power she could never hope to understand. It permeated the very air, choking her airways, causing a heat to spread through her lower belly. What on earth was that feeling? Every time he comes around there's that pull in her body. Something primal urging her to grab him and-… and do what? His whole body was in the room now and the space seemed much too small. His chest was against hers and her skin flushed hot with embarrassment, she was still in her pajama pants.

"Hello, princess," his voice was a growl, raising the hair on her neck.

Saira offered a weak wave and shifted from foot to foot. What was her deal? It wasn't like she had never been around a guy before. But somehow this was different, this was a deep seeded need.

"What's the matter," he purred. "cat got your tongue?"

He backed her against the wall, grabbed her wrists, and slammed them into the wall. "Your rudeness is getting rather irritating, princess."

A pained gasp slipped between her lips and her eyes fluttered shut. "H-Hello, Alucard."

"That's better," he growled and slowly lowered himself against her body.

Every inch of him that was against her caused a heat to begin to grow. "Please," her voice cracked and she nibbled her bottom lip.

"Please what," his voice was deep, husky. "Tell me what you want, Saira."

What did she want? Her body was telling her one thing (very loudly in fact) and her mind said another. His voice interrupted her thoughts.

Lemon beginning

"Your pullover," she gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. "Take it off."

"What?" Her mind couldn't process those words together.

"Take. It. Off." His voice was a snarl.

Her hands were shaking, but were in fact still above her head. He increased the pressure, causing the bones in her wrist to grind together. She whimpered and he laughed, holding both her hands in one of his larger ones.

"Allow me to help," his voice was a purr now, and her body responded without her having told it to do anything.

Her hips rolled forward and brushed against his own, the vampire grinned at this. His free hand went to the hem of her hoodie, he played with the fabric for a moment. Her muscles tensed with anticipation, body humming with energy, pupils dilating with what she could only describe as desire. In a split second he yanked the pullover and tore it from her body, accidentally taking her top with it. Christ in heaven he was strong.

"Well, well what do we have here?" His eyes moved across her naked torso raking in the creamy pale flesh.

His hand spread across her abdomen, fingers pressing into the sensitive flesh. She was equal parts speechless and terrified. But there was a slow fire building in her belly and for some reason she couldn't bring herself to act on the fear. His hand moved up her stomach to her ribs, raking up her ribs drawing a hiss of pain from her lips.

"A-Alucard…" Her voice quaked, but it wasn't entirely the fear.

He didn't respond, instead he pushed her bra up and over her breasts. Her eyes widened with the cool air's kiss on her sensitive flesh.

"Please," what she was asking for she knew not, but she needed something.

A sardonic grin spread his lips, showing off those razor sharp teeth. He roughly grabbed her breast, earning a groan from her, massaging the flesh in his large hand. She panted, closing her eyes and allowing these sensations to run amok in her body. His finger closed around one pink nipple and rolled it around between his thumb and forefinger. A moan bubbled up through her throat and poured from her lips. Her hips freely rolled against his now, her body seeking some kind of friction. He dropped her hands and clamped that hand over her mouth, muting her noises of pleasure. She raised a brow, confusion written across her features.

"Hold on tight," his voice was intoxicating just to hear at this point, even if his words didn't exactly make sense.

Oh but they did a moment later when the hand that was playing with her breasts pushed her pajama pants to the ground. For a fleeting moment she thought to stop him, wasn't she supposed to be saving herself for marriage? I won't live that long, my lungs will quit before that. And why shouldn't she enjoy some pleasure after all the hell she'd been through the past five years? His carmine eyes met her emerald ones, she'd like to think he was seeking permission; but he hadn't asked thus far. She gave a quick nod, giving herself over to whatever pleasure he could offer.

His fingers moved through the trimmed dark hair nestled between her thighs. He nudged her thighs apart before diving into her wet heat. Her body trembled and a gasp escaped her mouth, only to be muffled by his gloved hand. Oh God, he's still wearing his gloves and he's touching me... His finger moved inside of her, curving and stroking her sex. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees buckled. Perhaps it was the angle or maybe he was just too good at this, but every movement he made inside her made her body quake. He coupled this finger moving within her with one moving in circles against something that made her whole being feel like it was on fire. She fell forward against him, clinging to his shoulders with all her might. His hand moved from her mouth so she turned her face into his neck to muffle her cries of pleasure against his cool skin. His fingers moved faster and she felt this great coiling in her lower belly.

"Alu-…" she moaned into his neck. "I think I'm close."

He growled and sped up a bit more, causing ripples to cascade throughout her body. That coil tightened and tightened until the tension snapped and pleasure flowed through her body. The aftershocks kept twitching through her body, sending moan after moan pouring through her lips.

Soon the quakes passed and she stood back upright. Her cheeks flushed and her gaze moved to his face.

End of lemon

"Thank you," she murmured.

He chuckled. "I do nothing without wanting something in return."

"What do you want," her voice came out as a whisper.

Without another word he turned her around, bent her over the sink, and ran his un-gloved hand over the expanse of her back settling on two faint parallel scars that mirrored the curve of her shoulder blades. He dragged a sharp nail long the scar, bringing blood forth from below the surface. Saira winced but relaxed to it, it was a fair trade pleasure for pleasure. His tongue followed the blood from the base of her spine to the wound. He murmured a word against her spine that she didn't quite get.

"Repeat that?"

"Nephilim." He murmured.

"What is that?" Her body rested against the cool, faux-marble, countertop.

"The unholy offspring between an angel and a mortal," he chuckled. "It seems your mother got up to some mischief."

"No that's not possible," her voice quavered. "My dad isn't an angel."

"I didn't say he was."

"My mom wouldn't," she paused and thought for a moment, she looked nothing like her father or the twins. "Are you serious?"

He just laughed, every utterance dripping a kind of madness.

She sighed and checked the time on her phone, she needed to leave to get to school. "I've got to get ready to go Alucard, the art department is taking a field trip to the London Museum of Art and I can't be late."

He gave a nod and sealed the wound on her back with another flick of his tongue. "Try to behave yourself, princess."