Hello everyone! Just a quick note before we get started. Rating has changed to M for future circumstances, including gore, brutality and possibly things of a more sexual nature – we'll see. I'm intending on tying this into the next season when it comes out, so that should be fun!

I'm sure everyone has drawn their conclusions as to what Leona is exactly, but strap on in for the big reveal anyway – this should be fun.

Hope you enjoy as always, and let me know what you think!

If I was your vampire, certain as the moon.

Instead of killing time, we'll have each other 'til the sun.

If I was your vampire, Death waits for no one.

Hold my hands across your face,

Because I think our time has come.

If I was your Vampire – Marilyn Manson

She was avoiding him.

Stiles was smart enough to tell. The next night she hadn't turned up in the graveyard like she said she would – he wanted to take her to an old bookstore that he thought she'd like and then maybe go to a park or something.

But she hadn't been there, so he'd gone to her house and knocked. No one answered. He had knocked again. Nothing. He heard nothing from the house. Maybe she was out he thought to himself as he left.

But something had happened last night. Something he didn't understand but it was something that was slowly starting to make sense the more he thought about it.

So he tried again the next night.

Nothing.

Little did he know, Leona watched him from the second story window, biting her lip and clenching her nails into her palms until they bit in and made her bleed. She hoped that he'd get the message and wouldn't be too hurt by her sudden silence. He kept coming for the rest of the month. At first it was every night but eventually it just dropped off into nothing around the start of what she thought was his new school year. He never knew that she was just right there, perched in her window, holding herself back from him.

A night in September, Leona woke up to the sound of knocking. The sun had just gone down, and there was someone at her door. She took in a deep breath, filtering past the dust and cobwebs and mold. It was him – she knew his cologne and sweat and blood.

Why now? Why did he suddenly come back to her door after a month of painful cold silence?

Slowly, she rose, dark hair tumbling around her body as she pulled on a simple long white dress and made her way downstairs. It was black as night inside but she had no trouble seeing. Stiles was still tapping away at the door. A few footsteps had her across the blackened living room, her hand on the doorknob before she stopped herself. As she backed away, a floorboard let out an ominous creak. The knocking stopped.

"Leona? I know you're in there. Look, I don't know what's wrong or anything and I really don't care."

She kept silent, pressing her back to the door and a hand to her mouth.

"I just wanted to be friends with you. I'm sorry if I did something to make you not want to be around me anymore."

'It's not you.' She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip the door from its hinges and wrap her arms around him and weep and fuck and never let go of him. 'It's not you. I'm a monster, Stiles. I will get you killed. This isn't a world you know.'

"Leona?" She heard him sigh and imagined him ruffling his hair.

"Fine. Just…fine." She heard his footsteps move away from the door before quite suddenly coming back. His knuckles rapped at the door, hard, twice.

"Just so you know, being able to come here and talk to some weird girl in a graveyard was helping. I was sleeping better. It helped. I didn't care who she was. It didn't…it doesn't matter to me."

He shoved something under the lip of the door – a crumpled, wilted poppy. Leona squeezed her eyes shut.

"That's the one you gave me. You can have it back."

She listened to his footsteps as they made their way back down the path, stomping hard. Eventually she couldn't hear them anymore. Leona wanted to fling that door open so badly, go running after him in the dark, following his scent and sound. She wanted to run to him, fall on her knees before him, beg him to accept her, plead for his forgiveness. Try and make him understand she was trying to protect him.

But she did none of these things. Instead, she plucked the poppy from the ground, grabbed an old cup, and went outside to the backyard. The well was nearly dried up after so many years of existence and use, but there was still a little water in the bottom. A few short tugs had an old worn wooden bucket tumble into her grasp, brimming over with old water. She filled the cup and dropped the poppy inside. It hung limply on the side of the makeshift vase, but she brought it inside and set it on the mantelpiece anyway. It still smelled fragrant, and a little bit like him.

Leona dropped down onto the pillows and blankets that she had formed into a nest on the living room floor.

"What am I supposed to do, Jean?" She asked, staring up at the portrait. Jean-Claude did not, mercifully, answer.

"I care for him. I barely know him but I care for him. You barely knew me and cared for me and look what I've become. Look at what you made me." Leona could not find it in her heart to hate the dead man anymore, but there was still bitterness in the edges of her voice.

"I can't do that to him. I must stay away." She dropped her face into her hands. "But I cannot. I want him. I want to know him. What should I do?"

Again, the cold face of her sire did not answer her. It was all in her hands now. There was not anyone to look after her anymore. The only ones in the world that could judge her choices would be herself, Stiles, and any members of her own kind that found out.

And there were so few in Beacon Hills…

But what if it went terribly wrong? If he couldn't keep a secret, if it made him wild, if he was afraid of her? It would be her duty to correct the problem.

And there was only so much she could do.

Couldn't there be a happy medium, she wondered. Where she would get to stay with Stiles for a little while, enjoy his company; help his healing without him knowing she was a denizen of another, much darker, world?

And why shouldn't there be?

Leona stood to her feet and opened the door. She breathed in the night air. At first, all she could smell was forest sounds but there was a very slight faint scent of cologne on the breeze that she recognized as his. She followed it, racing through the trees, her dress whipping out behind her. The full moon was more than enough to light her way through the deep dark forest.

Where was Stiles going? This wasn't the way back to the graveyard. This led further into the woods that surrounded the graveyard and preserve. She knew it eventually hit a road, perhaps he'd parked there.

She leapt off a branch into a clearing, leaves rustling around her as she landed soundlessly on bare feet. His scent was strong here, and in the center of what seemed to be like a dirt parking lot was a large blue jeep. Leona could tell immediately that it was his – his scent was all over it – but the front door was flung open. She could smell blood.

"Stiles?" She darted over, quicker than a bat of the eye, and yanked the door all the way open. There was some blood on the seat, near where the headrest was. Not enough to be fatal, but probably enough to incapacitate a mortal.

Down near her left foot, something lit up. His phone. She plucked it from the ground and raised it to her face. Scott's name was blazing across in clear lettering as it vibrated in her hand. There was a moment's deliberation before she slid her finger across the plastic screen and raised it to her face.

"Hello?"

There was a moment of silence. "Who is this? Where's Stiles?"

"I don't know. I live around here and I saw a jeep. The front door was flung open and there's blood on the seat."

A longer, more pronounced moment. She could sense Scott's panic on the other line. "I don't think it's enough to kill. I think someone wrenched the door open and knocked him out."

She heard the faintest sigh of a breath before he spoke again. "I'm coming. Stay there."

The line went dead. Leona dropped the phone in the dirt and spun away, following the Stiles scent. It was getting fainter by the moment, scattered by the wind that was whipping through the trees. It would rain soon and she didn't have time to wait for Scott to show up, or for the police to come and try to find him. She had to find him and she had to do it now.

Leona kept to the woods as she sped down the road, following the invisible trail. She outstripped cars as she ran, faster and faster with every moment, calling upon her blood to strengthen her limbs. As she got closer, she could smell blood. His blood.

She came to stop outside of an old metal warehouse that looked as if it had been abandoned for some time. The smell was coming from in here – his sweat, his blood. She could smell fear, and hear the faintest crack of something hitting flesh and bone.

Rage, white hot and wild, surged through her body.

Someone had Stiles. Someone was hurting him.

She would rip their throats out.

The door to the warehouse was old corrugated metal. She grabbed it with both hands and with a mighty scream, ripped it from the hinges. It went spiraling into the woods with a loud crash. She could hear cursing and four pulses inside, one of them Stiles, the other his attackers.

She stepped inside, darting down a slim hallway to another door. She slammed it open and was greeted with the sight of a mostly empty concrete floored room. In the center in a chair was Stiles. There was man next to him with a gun pointed at his head, and two more with guns pointed squarely at her body.

"Okay, whoever the fuck you are bitch, that's enough." The man pushed his gun harder onto Stiles temple, but the boy didn't cry out or flinch. His nerves were made of steel and some small perverse part of her was proud.

Leona stepped into the room, her hands clenched.

"I believe you boys have something that belongs to me." Her voice was no longer her sweet dulcet tones but the chilling hiss of a predator. She took another step, and the man straighted, clicking the safety on his gun off.

"One more step, just one, and I'll blow his brains out."

Leona stopped, calculating. The other two men she could handle without issue, but she was not quite as fast as a bullet that close to the brain. She would have to try a different approach. She sized them up, flicking her eyes over the three. The two others were goons and clearly not in charge but the last man was different. He looked only slightly ruffled. He was in a dark suit, expensive she could tell, and his knuckles were bloody. Stiles face was bruised and shattered, and she was surprised he was still conscious. She'd never seen the man in the suit before, but she knew his type.

Leona lifted her hands, surrendering. Her smile became smooth as honey and she saw the three of them relax.

"Gentlemen, I've been hasty. Please, consider him a gift from me. " She placed her hands on her chest, then gestured to them.

"To you. If you wanted to use my property all you needed to do was ask. He's been naughty, has he? Doing something he shouldn't? Bad Stiles." She asked, pacing around the room. She was careful to come no closer than a step or two. As she predicted, the man in the suit was intrigued and confused enough to not pull the trigger. He furrowed his brow.

"Your property?"

She laughed, the sound flowing over her lips like molasses.

"Yes. My mortal. He belongs to me." The man still seemed confused and Leona rolled her eyes, laughing a little again.

"My thrall, you sweet thing." She came closer, more than halfway now to Stiles. The man raised his gun again and she smiled, lifting her hands.

"If you're questioning him, you really shouldn't destroy the poor thing's mouth so?"

Stiles' mouth was dripping blood. Some of his teeth were littering the floor. If she didn't get to him soon…

The man in the suit furrowed his brow and looked down at his hostage, then back to Leona. He seemed to be relaxing a little, beguiled by her strange approach and smile.

"I guess I got a little…carried away."

"Oh." Her sigh was like the winds on the moor. "That happens to the best of us, sometimes, doesn't it?" She was close enough to touch him now if she extended her arm. Leona flicked her eyes up to his, capturing them in her gaze, drawing his mind in like a fly trapped in amber. She had him.

"Now, then, lower your gun before you get carried away, won't you?" He nodded slowly, mechanically, and did as she bade her.

"Boss?" The other men still had their guns pointed at her. Leona smiled and reached up, gently stroking the suited man across the cheek. He shuddered in pleasure, his eyes glassy.

"Shoot them."

Two gunshots. She had no mercy in her for these men.

"Give me your gun."

He did, handing over the murder weapon readily. She tossed it away with a flick of her wrist and broke eye contact. The man gasped, sucking in air as his face contorted. He saw the other two bleeding out on the concrete from well placed kill shots, saw the little woman in front of him who had captured his mind.

Leona could smell his fear.

He stumbled away from her, crumpling to his feet. His face was glazed with horror.

"What the fuck are you?"

She smiled, cold as winter, and two dainty white fangs sprouted from her gums.

"Death."

Stiles could barely see, could barely talk, but he could hear. He heard screaming, a hissing, a ripping sound. He felt something spray across the back of his head and shoulders. He heard gurgling, a rhythmic thudding and a splintering noise. He heard licking and sucking for a few minutes, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was fading in and out of consciousness, but he felt himself being lifted and whisked away on a soft breeze. Suddenly, he could hear crickets chirping and leaves rustling.

"Stiles? Stiles. Stay with me now." It was Leona's voice and he smiled, his lips cracking.

"Sor…ry."

She laughed a little wetly, cradling him in her arms. He looked so broken. His arms were bent wrong, his lips were broken and split. His eyes were swollen. They had beaten him to a bloody pulp, her Stiles. In her heart, he was his.

"Sorry for what, Stiles?"

He smiled as best he could, then coughed.

"I just…wanted…to go to…park. Bad…date."

She laughed again, brushing her hand over his face. His eyelids were fluttering and his breath was catching.

"Stiles. Stiles!" She shook him, but he was unresponsive. Leona felt a few tears snake down her cheeks.

"Dammit, Stiles!" She sunk her fangs into her wrist and pressed it to his mouth.

"Drink. Drink." He was unconscious for a moment, life slowly dripping into his mouth. The wounds on his face began to heal and he began to mechanically suck, flicking his tongue over the open wound on her wrist. She felt herself grow weaker over time as he quite literally sucked the life from her, but she would give him anything. She would give him all the blood in her body if it would save his life.

Eventually, the bones in his face snapped back into place. She watched his lips knit up and his teeth regrow. He would be sore for a few days, but alive and fully healed. Leona pulled her wrist away and he moaned in protest, his eyes flickering open. Stiles looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, twisting his head around to get a look at their surroundings. Leona has taken him away to a clearing in the woods a mile or so away where they would not be disturbed.

"What happened?" He tried to sit up, but was too weak. He let Leona continue to cradle him in the dark.

"You nearly had the life beaten out of you, Stiles. I saved you."

His brow furrowed and he looked up at her, really looked. Her face was coated in blood. It dripped from her mouth, down her neck and covered the front of her gown. Her eyes were wild and stormy and there was something angular and frightening about her face. Slowly, he pieced his memories back together.

"You're… you." He swallowed hard and sat up, ignoring the dizziness that overtook him for a moment.

"I'm a monster, Stiles. I know. But if I didn't act you'd be dead right now, probably being buried or thrown in a lake. No one would ever see you again. I don't regret what I did."

He swallowed again. She could hear his heart racing.

"You killed them."
"Technically I only killed one. I did it for you. I-" She reached for him desperately and he pulled away, his face a mask of shock and fear, the very expressions she had hoped he would never have. She pulled her hand back in to her chest and hung her head.

"The road is nearby. You can clean up in the pond. I'm sure you can find someone to take you home. But you can't tell anyone."

"I know."

They sat in silence, both of them loathe to speak. Leona could see his hands shaking ever so slightly from where they were on his bloodstained jeans but she couldn't see his face. She could feel him staring at her. Around them, crickets chirped and fireflies glimmered faintly in the gloom.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I'm sorry you had to find out at all. I just…I just wanted to be your friend."

She lifted her head slowly and met his eyes. His expression was strange – a mixture of fear and inquisitiveness and…warmth. Why warmth? But it was there, right there, in his amber eyes.

"I'm sorry Stiles. I'm so sorry. You'll never have to see me again." She made to stand, but to her surprise his hand snaked out and clasped her wrist. Gently, wordlessly, he pulled her down in front of him. His expression was strange and lidded, like a hood being placed over a lantern.

"You…you don't need to apologize. I get it."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Stiles ruffled his hair with the one that wasn't around his wrist.

"I just…I understand what it's like to…to have a monster inside you. I get it. I just didn't think that…" He shook his head, sighing.

"Didn't think what, Stiles?" Leona asked, scooting closer to him. Her hand, bloody and messy, cupped his cheek. His eyes flicked to her and threatened to swallow her whole. There was darkness in there, a pit she did not expect to see in someone so young. Stiles had been witness to great tragedy and pain, and she knew the look. He had caused it.

"I didn't think that someone else did and I guess…I tried not to think about what it was like on the outside. Watching it." He released her wrist but he didn't push her hand away, enjoying the chill of it in the warm air.

They didn't speak for a long time, sitting together, knees pressed against the others. They were not a prepossessing sight – both covered in blood, both messy and dirty. But that didn't matter.

He understood.

As much as she didn't wish that he did, Stiles understood. He had seen the beast in her, for he had one in himself, and he did not turn away from her. She could have wept, but she was empty of tears and nearly empty of life. She had given most to him to heal his wounds.

"Stiles."

She broke the silence and his eyes returned to her face.

"Will you tell me, one day? Will you tell me why you understand?"

There was a long pause. He nodded. She smiled, and so did he, just a turning of the corners, just a tiny quirk of the lips but it was like sunshine to her. No.

No, it outshone the sun because it was coming from behind clouds.

"We should get you home, Stiles. It's going to be morning soon and your friends are out looking for you." Slowly, Leona rose to her feet, aiding him with a hand.

"How do you know?" He asked, wobbling a little and wincing.

"I just do. You'll be sore for a few days but you'll be completely healed. It…does that to you."

His eyes flicked to her as they began to make their way out to the road.

"Will it…it won't turn me into one of you, right?"

Leona shook her head. "No. Only if I drain you to the point of death first."

"Oh. Good."

They walked in silence, Leona mostly supporting Stiles until they made it to the asphalt. Down the long straight stretch of road, they could see headlights. Stiles waved wildly and the car sped up.

"I think that's Scott. Do you…?" He gestured at the car and Leona shook her head.

"No. He can't see me, Stiles. You have to keep it to yourself. You have to come up with something."

He nodded slowly, biting his lip. "I'll think of something." He ruffled his hair again as she stepped into the woods, out of the headlights.

"Wait. So you're a…"

Leona smiled as she pushed a branch aside. "You know, Stiles. You figured it out awhile ago. You're smart." She stepped further into the woods as the car squealed to a halt.

"Huh. So, vampires too, huh?"

Leona stopped and whipped around, but he had already gotten in the car. She watched it speed away, her body very still.

"Vampires, too?"

She smiled, and so did the boy in the backseat.

Well that was my first experience writing a scene like this, along with really writing anything gore-like. Let me know what you think!