Lying had not been easy.

The chilling air of the late evening stung Charlotte's bare arms, but she didn't care. Tears streamed down her guilt-ridden face, and she pounded her fists hopelessly on the front doors of the now empty theatre. The Cirque had undoubtedly moved on to another city. The vampire's not here, she thought dejectedly, finally ceasing her useless pounding on the doors and sinking to the pavement. He can't help me.

Steve was in a coma, dying, and regardless of her new hatred for him Charlotte did not want to be responsible for his death. She sighed, wiping the wetness from her reddened eyes, and reached a chilled palm to pull the dreaded spider's cage closer to her from where she had set it on the pavement. The shamefaced girl was painfully aware that her regrets would not save the dying boy, and knew that she should loathe the beast who bit him like any other person would in her situation—yet she didn't, she loved the spider just as she had before, and that only made her feel more guilt.

Charlotte felt that Madam Octa was not to blame; she had known the creature was dangerous when she agreed to Steve's pleas to free her from the cage. Of course, Steve had known the risks as well. He's a fool, Charlotte frowned, clenching her teeth. I won't hold him accountable. If anyone was at fault, it was she. She hugged her knees tightly and buried her face in them, surrendering herself to a sobbing fit. A tall shadow fell over her as she did so, but she paid no attention.

"Crying will do you no good, I am afraid," a deep voice spoke.

Charlotte froze, abruptly cutting her pathetic cries short as her bright eyes shot open. Slowly and soundlessly, she lifted her head from her knees and craned her neck to look at the speaker, though she knew exactly who had addressed her from the moment she heard his voice. "Mr. Crepsley," she gasped, the ends of her mouth curling into a smile with the renewal of her hope.

The vampire said nothing, but instead extended his hand down toward her. She took it gladly, and he helped her to her feet. The girl shocked him by throwing herself into his arms, and burying her face in his chest. Bemused, he regarded the small girl and cleared his throat. Her frame went suddenly rigid against him, as if she just realized what she was doing.

Charlotte broke apart from him quickly and took a step back, staring at the ground in embarrassment. "Oh, uh," she said quietly, "sorry." She dusted off her formfitting red t-shirt awkwardly.

"Think nothing of it," Mr. Crepsley replied calmly.

Neither of them spoke for several moments. It was late and the roads were empty, the only lighting shining down from overhead street lamps.

"Oh!" Charlotte exclaimed loudly and without warning. The sound sliced through the silent night like a blade. "Steve…" Worry once again etched itself across the poor girl's face. "He's… dying."

Mr. Crepsley nodded, unsurprised. "I knew you would be back, one way or another. That is why I waited. Madam Octa poisoned the boy, I presume?"

"Yes…"

"Of course," he sighed, stroking his scar thoughtfully. "You need me to give you the antidote to save your boyfriend—" Charlotte cringed at the word "—and that is why you returned to this theatre, is it not?"

The young woman nodded.

"What did you do? After what happened to the boy?"

Charlotte considered this for a minute. "Well," she sputtered, "I hid Madam Octa. I ran to my neighbour's and I… I had to do a lot of lying. I said that Steve and I were just talking in my bedroom, and I noticed this huge tarantula—which must have crawled in through my open window, I lied—on Steve's shoulder, we both screamed, and the spider bit his neck…" She paused.

"Go on," he urged her.

"My neighbour phoned emergency for me when I told them he was unconscious," Charlotte continued. "I went with them to the hospital… He's checked in there now. Steve's mom came, and she was crying… I called my parents and they dragged themselves home from work, and we all stayed there for a while before I snuck back to my house on my own to get Madam Octa. Then I ran here to find you…" She trailed off.

"You do not seem in any hurry," remarked the vampire, "to revive him. He does not have long to live."

Hanging her head, Charlotte hugged her arms to her chest, biting her lip as she so often did. "Dying or not," she replied honestly, her voice cracking, "I am not so important to him. That still hurts, every time I think about it." She looked away. When Mr. Crepsley said nothing, she continued, "I still can't let him die. I need you to help me… Please."

Mr. Crepsley ran pale, slender fingers through his orange hair. "I will give you the antidote," he spoke after a few seconds of hesitation, "but in return…"

"You don't need to finish that sentence," Charlotte uttered with a sudden fierceness in her voice, "I deserve everything I'm going to get. I'll do whatever it takes, but I'll hate every second of it. That's a promise, vampire." Her green eyes narrowed at him.

The vampire grinned. "Then you shall be my new assistant, Charlotte…"

"Harley," Charlotte put in nervously. "My name is Charlotte Harley."

"Charlotte Harley," he nodded. "Former introductions must wait, I am afraid. A boy is dying, and only we have it in our power to save him. I will blood you after we have seen to his recovery." He turned away from her at this, his back facing the girl. "Climb onto my back."

Raising her eyebrows in sheer bafflement, the girl gaped at him. "Climb onto your back?" she repeated slowly, positive that she must have misheard.

Sighing in frustration, Mr. Crepsley looked over his shoulder to frown at her and explained, "I am going to flit to the hospital. As a full vampire I am able to move at an extremely fast rate if I so please, and this means of travel is known to vampires as flitting. If you wish to arrive at the hospital as quickly as possible, then I suggest you climb onto my back as I said before."

Pausing, Charlotte shuffled her feet. "Okay," the girl breathed, stepping closer to the vampire as he bent down to ease the task for her. She nervously wrapped her small arms around his neck, feeling uneasy, and secured her legs to the sides of his red suit. When he stood, she allowed herself to relax, her position now feeling more natural and less uncomfortable. "I'm ready," she mumbled, shutting her eyes tightly.

With that, the vampire began to run in the direction of the hospital.

After a few seconds' travel, Charlotte dared to open her eyes, lifting her head from where it lay against Mr. Crepsley's shoulder. Her jaw dropped in awe as she regarded their surroundings—they were moving at such an alarming speed that it looked as if the world itself was racing by on its own and that they were barely moving at all. The experience was truly bizarre, and her interest sparked as she watched. The vampire had told her only full vampires had the ability to flit as he was doing now, and she was knew that he would merely blood her to be a half-vampire for the time being. Maybe one day, though, Charlotte surprised herself by thinking, I'll be able to do this too…

She rested her head back on the vampire's shoulder, consumed by her silent musings.