Cold hands glided across blazing skin. She moaned as hungry lips found her throat, kissing and nibbling. Her breath caught as she felt the prick of fangs teasing her neck.

"Scream for me Star.."

A piercing scream jostled Star from her bed. It took her a moment of sleepy confusion to realise she was the one that had made all the noise. A hand shot to her neck, fingers tracing the smooth and blessedly unbroken skin.

She let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. The dream had seemed so real, every sensation and emotion. The thrill of pleasure laced with pain still pulsed through her body. She wiped a hand across her sweaty face. There was no way she was getting back to sleep now.

"I need coffee.." she mumbled to herself as she stretched and yawned.

Her mind turned the clock back to last night. The Frogs were OTT; too many horror comics no doubt. Perhaps their mother banged their heads together as babies, she mused. She had to give them some credit though- it wasn't all make believe. She just wished there were less annoying and more sane options available to her if she needed allies against evil.

Star covered the distance to the kitchenette in a few steps and filled the jug with water. She left it to boil and attacked her luggage for clean clothes and toiletries. Today was supposed to be her first real day in Santa Carla. Before last night she had planned to unpack and settle. The store downstairs needed her attention if she was going to reopen it anytime soon.

"Ha! Black magic..." muttered Star, remembering the Frogs' tale of resurrection.

The Frogs' conviction was persuasive, yet despite the palatable fear she had suffered on the Boardwalk, and the stories the Frogs had told her, she had safely returned to the store last night. No one had followed her, vampire or otherwise. Yes, she had been terrified, but nothing had happened in the few minutes it had taken to get to Gypsy Rose.

If David and the Boys were back, Star wouldn't have succeeded in getting two steps from the Boardwalk. She knew them, or more correctly, had known them. The way they stalked their prey had been bone-chillingly calculated. No one survived... that was, until they had assigned her a victim.

After a wrestling match with the taps, Star managed a lukewarm shower. Michael's face, her 'victim', crowded her vision. She pushed it away, her heart lurching. She hastily threw on the clothes she had pulled from her suitcase (which now looked like a hurricane had hit causing it to hemorrhage floaty skirts and lace). Feeling slightly more human she made a beeline for the steaming jug and sloshed the hot water into a mug. The fourth small cupboard she searched through held the coffee, which she scooped generously in.

As she stirred the black liquid she considered her options. The Frogs swore they had seen all four vampires. Seeing was believing, but Star hadn't seen anything. Her fears had taken hold the moment she passed the 'Welcome to Santa Carla' sign. She was bound to overact being back here. There had many panic attacks in other towns and cities over the year, it just felt more real at the scene of the crime.

Star took a sip of the strong brew. It was easier to rationalise in the safe, warm, light of day. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the emotions she had felt at the sound of her name echoing around her. His laugh... the way the wind had tried to hold her... was her imagination really that good?

She finished the cup and poured another. Regardless of what she believed, she decided not to make herself at home yet. She was used to living out of bags and boxes, and there was no point in settling in IF the Frogs were right.

"They'll never let me live this down if they are right," she told the empty room.

If they were right maybe no one would live, came her afterthought.