Author's Notes: GAAAH! I had a super busy week! I meant to upload this sooner but I was too busy.

Ok, this my favorite chapter so far and here's why: The plot moooves, we learn more about Near's mysterious New Orleans past, I introduce some long forgotten minor characters, and we also dip into Mello's point of view for a while!!! Yaaayyy!

Chapter 4: Without a Soul

I woke up with a strong headache. I remembered. The wine. Rubbing my eyes I sat up in my empty bed. So Mello had left me to sleep in his coffin after all.

Grumbling incoherent nonsense to myself I slipped out of the bed and began to make it like I did every morning. Straightening the sheets and fluffing the pillows to an obscene level of crispness.

For some reason that morning I tried to ignore the note from Mello that was calling out to be read. To be quite frank, (no pun intended, seeing as we were in France) I had no idea what Mello would say. Would it be another apology? Remorse? Questions? Some taunt of my mortality?

Speaking of which. Twice Mello had mentioned me being 'mortal'. I didn't understand it. Was he simply reminding me that everyone could die or was he so egotistical that he believed he could escape the inevitable? Either way or another, I decided that tonight I would get to the bottom of things. Even if Mello would tell me, I knew I could work it out of him. Why, with a couple smiles and some innocent clumsiness thrown in, his need to please me would win over his better sense of judgment.

With a new sense of purpose brightening my mood, I walked over to my writing desk to read the note from Mello. Then it hit me. The note I mentioned earlier, I had actually mistaken it from yesterday's.

I searched the top of my desk. The draw. The floor around it. My dresser. My dresser's drawers. Behind my mirror. Under my pillows. Everywhere I could think of. There was no note.

I felt my heart beat quicker. No consoling words. No instructions as to how I was to spend the day in luxury. Nothing.

Confused, I paced. Restless, I leafed through Mello's books. Nervous and anxious, I brought my hand to the door of the locked room, almost knocking many times. Key word: Almost.

Waiting in the bright silence of the apartment, the extremity of Mello's bizarrenesses poke out at me. His daily reclusion, the coffin, the air of commanding, the frivolity of his movements, his velvety voice… All these things reminded me of Aurore.

Aurore was the best friend I ever had in New Orleans. We were always together, always enjoying each other's company.

I was the studious do-gooder.

She was the rebellious and almost gothic dream analytic girl.

At one point in our lives she became obsessed with the supernatural. She would constantly as me if I had ever came in contact with people that had… Numerous eccentricities that Mello possessed. Aurore had a name for these preternatural beings, if only I could remember… Oh yes. Aurore had called them vampires.

The moment she told me of them I laughed. Even the idea of super-human immortals that lived for the night and fed off human blood was absurd.

One day when our families were having a picnic, Aurore and I snuck off to walk by the march. There was the first time she said I would make a good vampire.

When she said it, I asked why, genuinely intrigued. Aurore said that good vampires came from mortals who led bias, normal lives. Good vampires came from people who didn't believe in the supernatural and were very down to earth. Sighing at that point she would say she made a terrible vampire because she was just too interested.

Bringing myself from my memories, I pushed all thoughts of Aurore and vampires aside. I would most likely never see Aurore again, and vampires were merely the product of a drunken poet's drug-spurred imagination. Pure fantasy.

While thinking all of this I had subconsciously drifted to the piano room. Now the music for Moonlight Sonata was out. Simply due to curiosity I plunked a few on the keyboard, not betting sensible tune but merely a mish-mash of empty notes.

Sighing, I pulled the bench forward all intent on merely studying the piano itself. Moments later I noticed a piece of Mello's stationary just barely poking out from behind the sheet music. Taking it out I actually found it to be a packet with a note tucked inside.

Go explore a little bit, darling. Have a little fun. Just don't go too far I couldn't bear to find you lost and afraid again.

Inside the packet was a key, one to the apartment I assumed, hanging on a gold chain. I slipped it on around my neck, the flipped the note over.

Look inside the piano.

Peering over I noticed inside a new change of clothes. Mello was strange.

The quality and style was as expensive as one could get, but the clothes weren't as fancy as the ones I wore to the opera. It made sense though, he gave me these to me intending on me wearing them to explore.

Explore what though? The hotel? The street? The square? Mello was not only strange, but he could terribly vague as well.

Stepping outside into the hallway, I closed the door gently, for some reason wanting to be quiet. I walked down the corridor until I found a set of straits. At the bottom I came to the immense lobby, and staying close to the walls I crept to the other side unseen.

Walking down another hallway I found that the rooms it led to were mainly used for functions and recreation. I peered into empty ballrooms and meeting rooms.

Then I came to the lounge. Most of it was a haze of cigar smoke, competing with the smell of coffee. There were three people sitting at this one table close to the door, and I happened to overhear their conversation.

One was a thirteen year old girl sitting between two adults that could have been her parents. Except the man looked to be about forty and the woman maybe in her late twenties.

"Backyard, when can we visit Monsieur Birthday again?" The girl asked in a whiny tone teenage girls naturally acquire.

"When Monsieur B sends word to Believe, that is when we go." The woman sighed. "Quarter you must learn to have patience with the world. It doesn't all revolve around your wants, you know."

The man called Believe grunted in agreement, puffing on his cigar.

I looked at the three. B… Q… B. Believe, Quarter, Backyard. Monsieur Birthday, Monsieur B.

I froze as Quarter gave me the evilest of smiles. Without the other two noticing she mouthed something at me, but I couldn't decipher what she said because by that time I had turn and ran.

Running recklessly through the halls I bumped into people, almost knocked over a bust or two, and pretty much a cause of momentary chaos in the hotel.

I ran up the many flights of stairs, my breath soon coming in ragged pants. By the time I reached our apartment my hands were shaking, and it took me much longer then it should have to open the door.

Stumbling in I rushed to the locked door, banging on it and pleading with the sleeping Mello.

"Mello! He's here! B's here, in this hotel! Mello help me! If you really love me then wake up and save me from him! MELLO! What, are you so afraid of the day that you won't help me?! YOU COWARD!"

I screamed the last two words then shivering and crying I slumped on the floor. I hadn't meant to say all those mean things to Mello, but I just wanted him to wake up and save me…

I made the effort to grab my Mello doll and then sat with it in my arms, crying and leaning up against the locked door. I stroked the doll and whimpered.

"Mello… Mello help me…"

Eventually I managed to cry myself to sleep, a weak, jittery sleep that didn't do well for my nerves.

"Mon Dieu…" Mello whispered as he opened the door to the parlor. My sleeping body slumped over at his feet. Mello traced his finger down my tear-streaked face.

"Near… Near, what did he do to you?" Placing a deeper, more comfortable sleep on me, he picked my up and brought me to my room, gently placing me on the bed.

Mello went back to the locked room, opening a carefully concealed sliding door. Looking through his closet Mello took out a deep blue coat which went down to his knees. Putting it on him buttoned the buttons in the middle, leaving the bottom and top open.

Walking out of his apartment Mello thought of rooms B could be in. There were only ten floor, so the possible rooms he could be in were mostly likely rooms 904, 409, or 404, judging as four and nine were his favorite numbers to make thirteen with… Mello was sure B would make it easy for him to find him… B would want Mello to find him.

As Mello stepped on the landing of floor nine he reinforced his mental barriers, B getting inside your head was not a pretty thing.

Mello knocked pertly on the door of room 904. That girl Quarter Queen opened the door in nothing but a skimpy night gown.

"Guess again, Mihael." She taunted. In response Mello barred his fangs and then slammed the door in her face.

At room 409 Believe Bridesmaid and Backyard Bottomslash greeted Mello more politely then Mlle. Queen, but still looked at Mello with an air of dominance.

Before knocking on the door of room 404, Mello calmed his emotions and mentally prepared himself as much as he could for a meeting with a vicious, blood-lusting killer.

It only took the slightest knock on the door for B to answer, as he was most likely waiting for Mello.

"Aah, Mihael, good evening please do come in."

Mello nodded rigidly.

B's apartment was not as large as Mello's, but certainly grand enough.

"Please sit down."

Mello did, placing himself tensely in a wooden chair.

B sat down in an armchair, somehow managing to delicately slurp a tea-cup of blood.

"Before we begin Mihael, would you like some blood? I can tell you haven't hunted tonight."

"I prefer fresh blood, thank you."

B smiled, putting his cup back on the saucer. "Always the gentleman, weren't you Mihael?"

"What the hell do you want with Near, B?"

B frowned, biting slightly at his thumbnail.

"Mihael, why don't you call me by name instead of some silly little alias I don't even use."

Mello growled slightly, grinding his teeth together.

"Oh right, you asked about Near. Who is Near? I don't know anyone named Near."

"You know perfectly well who Near is."

"Oh, you mean that white-haired looking boy name Nate who you've got under your spell?"

"Spell?! I don't know about that, but if Nate's Near's proper name then yes."

"I'll be blunt with you Mihael." Be began to balance his cup of blood on his head. For what purpose Mello couldn't fathom. "I want Nate as my fledgling."

Mello leapt from his chair and pined down B's shoulders to the arm chair.

"I swear if you lay one finger on him I will kill you." The venom truly oozing out of Mello's voice was completely unnoticed by B.

Because to put it simply B began to laugh. "Mhm… Ha, ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha, ha! KYAHAHAHAHA!"

Mello backed away. "Are you done yet?" He asked sarcastically.

When B calmed down he turned to look at Mello, his fiery red eyes so cold it sent hypothetical chills up Mello's spine.

"Kill me will you Mihael? I'm four hundred fifty five years older then you. What are the odds?"

"The odds?!" Mello spat. "I don't give a damn about the odds!"

Mello stood up and walked to the door, the anger seething in his very steps. He turned around one last time to glare at B.

"All I care about is Near."

B chuckled and drained his cup of blood. Mello slammed the door. Then smiled manically. "M'kay. Fly, fly away Mihael. Fly, fly, fly… Fly, fly, fly, fly… Fly, fly, fly…"

I woke up in my bed disorientated and confused. Piecing my mind together I slowly concluded that Mello must have woken up and brought me here.

Even the thought of Mello brought me to tears. I squeezed the doll of him close to my chest. Why wasn't he here to console me? To soothe my fears and lift my spirits, of why Mello?

I fell onto my stomach and sobbed into my pillow. I heard Mello come in, the door slamming and simply didn't and care and sobbed all the louder.

"Near…" Mello breathed as he saw me. He sat on my bed and gently rubbed my back. Massaging my shoulders and loosening my muscles.

"Mello!" I cried. "What have you done but sleep in the day and try to distract me in the night?"

Mello brought me up in his arms and I tried to break away, but his arms were too strung thus holding me. He kissed the top of my head and stroked my hair.

"Near… My beautiful white-haired Botticelli angel. Please stop tormenting me with your sorrow… Everything is alright."

"Really?!" I shrieked. "Then why is B here?! Why does he want to kill me?! And what are you to hiding from me?"

"Near look at me." Mello said seriously. I tuned to look at him. He slowly traced his thumb down my cheek bone. I though he would simply stare at me forever, until suddenly he pressed his mouth on mine. I felt a stream of coppery liquid flow into my mouth. I only deduced that it was Mello's blood after his mouth parted with mine. My vision focused, my hearing accelerated, and my brain was working twenty times faster then normal. Mello's was… The medicine he gave me.

Mello smiled weakly, the light in his eyes still bright.

"Among my kind, the kiss of blood is a common greeting."