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Eliot heard whispers that crashed into his head like a marching band drum line.

"The vitriol fluid in his eyes has been replaced with blood. That'll go away once he feeds for the first time."

"Stay back Mr. Ford. The silver keeps him weak but he's not yet in his right mind. He could still kill you."

"I've got the donor blood. Did you find the nasal cannula?"

The words bounced around in his head. He thought he opened his eyes but he couldn't see anything. He could hear heartbeats over the din. He could hear muscle contracting, forcing blood through ventricles. He could hear the valves opening and fluttering closed. He could hear air flowing in and out of lungs. He focused on the sounds of the living as two hands held his head still and another forced a tube into his nose and down his throat. He coughed, trying to dislodge the object. He tasted the lubricant in the back of his throat and felt fluid filling his stomach. His head began to clear, allowing him to feel the other hands holding down his limbs. He swallowed around the tube, opened his mouth, tried to speak and for the first time felt a new addition to his mouth, his fangs. Eliot tried for a moment to raise his head and then faded back into darkness.

Eliot opened his eyes again and he was alone. He looked around, taking in his new surroundings. Heavy curtains covered the windows leaving the room lit by a few dim lamps. He lay on a bed underneath a heavy down duvet. It felt good to be warm. He tried to rub his eyes but his hands were cuffed over his head. He moved his legs and found they were free; gingerly he shifted his weight and turned onto his side.

"That's better," he said to himself as he stared at the door in front of him.

He heard a door handle turn behind him and then footsteps.

"Eliot, are you awake?" Captain Mercier asked.

"Yea, I think."

Mercer stepped around to where Eliot could see him. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

Mercier brush the hair off Eliot's neck. The bite wounds were gone. "That's the silver in the handcuffs. We'll get those off you in a few minutes." He sat down on the bed. "Your friends are here. They really want to see you."

"Friends?"

Mercier motioned to Nate and Sophie who had just walked in. "Do you remember them?"

They came around the bed and into Eliot's line of sight. They both looked exhausted, like they hadn't slept soundly for several days. Nate was unshaven and his eyes were heavy. Sophie looked no better, but he was glad to see both of them.

"Nate Ford and Sophie Devereaux," Eliot said quietly. "Where's Parker and Hardison?"

"They didn't want to overwhelm you," replied Sophie as she reached out and stroked his hair. "They'll come see you when you're a little stronger."

"God, I'm so thirsty," said Eliot.

Sophie pulled her hand away and jumped back. Mercier took her hand to reassure her. "That's a good sign. He's having human cravings. He won't hurt you."

Mercier turned back to Eliot. "Hold tight, okay? I need to get these cuffs off and we'll get you some water." He stood up and pulled a set of keys from his pocket.

Eliot was relieved to hear the clicks of the locks releasing. Mercier helped him roll back over on his back and put his arms down to his sides. Eliot lay still trying focus on his own heart beat, but he couldn't feel it. Under the blankets, he checked his own pulse; absent. He began to panic. He realized he couldn't breath as he tried to take air into his lungs. He tried to sit up and he lashed out as Mercier tried to help him.

"Calm down," he said. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

Eliot popped his fangs. Sophie and Nate backed away. Mercier had a hold of both his wrists. As he clicked the cuffs back onto Eliot's wrists, he called out for help and three more men came onto the room. The larger two men climbed onto the bed and held him down. Eliot thrashed against them, memories of being face down on the stone floor came rushing back. His arms were wrenched over his head and bound again to the headboard. The silver began to take affect and Eliot couldn't fight anymore. The last of his strength had left him.

"Eliot, you're okay," Mercier said calmly.

Eliot gave in. He knew there was no point in fighting now. "What's happening to me?" He ran his tongue along his teeth and, feeling the fangs, tried to hide his face with his arm. He looked up at Sophie and Nate who had moved to the other side of the room.

"Eliot, what startled you?" Mercier asked.

"I think something's really wrong," he replied. "I can't feel my own pulse."

"You don't have one anymore."

Eliot was silent. He laid back and stared at the ceiling. He concentrated on his chest, hoping to feel the rise and fall of respiration that wasn't there.

"How?" he asked.

"Do you remember anything that happened in the last couple of days."

Eliot shook his head. "Days? No. Maybe, a floor in a basement. How long have I been out?"

"Thirty-six, maybe forty hours," replied Mercier. "You were sent here to retrieve the Staff of Inigo. Do you remember?"

Eliot looked over to Nate and nodded.

"Do you remember the girl?" asked Nate. "You found her and tried to take her with you."

Eliot nodded again. He licked his lips, swallowed hard and closed his eyes tight. "What happened to her? Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's fine," replied Mercier. "I know we have a lot to explain and we will, but for now just know that both of you are okay."

"What am I? Am I...I don't have a pulse. I don't have a breath. I have..."

"Fangs?" finished Nate. "Eliot, I didn't believe it and I witnessed it."

Eliot uncovered his eyes. "Where do I go from here?"

"We need to get you up and moving,"replied Mercier. "Representatives are flying in from all over the world. Your debut is in two days. You need to be briefed."

"Help me up. And get these things off me."

Sophie smiled. "That's the Eliot Spencer I know."

Mercier removed the handcuffs again and helped him sit up in bed. Eliot sat for a moment collecting himself. "Clothes. I need clothes."

"Parker went back to the hotel for your things. Your clothes are hanging up in the closet," replied Nate.

Eliot opened and closed his fists, rolled his head from right to left, then left to right and then pulled his knees up to his chest. "Will I get used to this not breathing thing?"

"Eventually. It takes a few days," said Mercier. "It's easier than you think."

Eliot put his hand to his chest and rubbed like he was pain.

"What's wrong?" asked Nate.

"Bad case of heartburn, I guess," replied Eliot.

"Mr. Ford, Ms. Devereaux, you may want to step out for a few minutes," said Mercier. He motioned for one of the men to escort them out. Another walked out as well.

"No, we're staying. What's going on?" replied Nate.

"What's wrong?" asked Eliot, worry building up in him.

"That's not heartburn. That's hunger. You need to feed."

"Feed? You mean blood?"

"Yea," replied Mercier.

Eliot heard someone on the other side of the door. As he looked intently at it, everyone else followed his gaze. It opened and a young woman entered.

"Somebody order breakfast in bed?" she asked casually.

Eliot took a sudden Interest in the blankets that covered him. "She's breakfast isn't she?"

"Eliot, this is Diana. She is one of our human donors."

"You can't just run out to the blood bank for a six pack?"

"It doesn't work like that. Sorry."

"I'm not biting her." Eliot shook his head.

"It's okay," replied Diana. "I do this a lot. You're not gonna hurt me. I've had two units of O-neg to prepare for this. Hey, how do you feel about citrus? I've been on a steady diet of oranges and grapefruit."

Eliot turned to Nate and Sophie. He felt like he was going to throw up. "Yea, you guys might want to leave for this one."

"No, there is going to be a point where we are going to witness this. It might as well be now," said Nate.

"I'd rather not walk in on you accidentally," Sophie agreed.

"Top or bottom?" asked Diana.

"Excuse me?" replied Eliot.

"You need to figure these things out before you get hungry other wise you might slip up and leave evidence."

"Top or bottom of what?"

Mercier took Diana's hand. "For vampires," he said. "Feeding is as intimate as making love."

Diana crawled over Eliot and laid down next to him. He sat up a little higher and leaned against the headboard.

"You can bite anywhere on the body and draw blood but the main arteries will flow faster." Mercier took Eliot's hand in his and placed it on Diana's neck. "Diana's done this before so she's comfortable with it. Feel her pulse. This is how fast you want you want it. Eighty to ninety."

Eliot counted the beats in his head. He nodded. "What if it's too fast."

"That's what usually happens, especially when the donor is scared." Mercier moved Eliot's hand to Diana's upper arm. "You can feel her pulse, here, in the valley between her bicep and tricep. Now, if you grab the donor by the arm you can monitor their heart rate while you silence them. Look into her eyes."

Eliot shifted himself so he could look eye to eye with her and tucked his hair behind his ears.

"It's okay to touch her. That's it. Draw her in. Feel her pulse slowing?"

Eliot nodded. His fangs descended. Keeping eye contact with her, he stretched out next to her. Her body radiated heat and the ebb and flow of her blood circulating through her fluttered against his chest. He pulled the duvet tight around them and embraced her and she in turn relaxed and let her head rest on his arm and exposed her neck.

"Listen for where the pulse is the strongest. You don't need to pierce deep. You only want to puncture one side of the artery. Drink until you feel the heart rate slow and then lick the wounds."

"Cleaning up my mess?"

"No, the substances in your saliva will close the wounds and stop the bleeding."

"Okay."

"Whenever you're ready."

Eliot looked up to Sophie and Nate. "Are you really sure you want to see this?" he asked.

"Do what you need to."

Eliot opened his mouth, his lips barely brushing her skin. He counted to three and then bit into her neck as if he were taking a bite of an apple. Blood pulsed into his mouth, flowing warm and sweet over his tongue. He swallowed once, then again and again. The blood warmed his throat and soothed the burning in chest. He closed his eyes. He swore he tasted the subtle flavor of tangerine but soon it vanished, replaced by a flavor he couldn't identify yet couldn't forget. The warmth spread to his legs and up into his head. Colors swirled before his eyes; images dashed in and out of his mind - a little girl playing in a park, a young woman in a formal gown, anger, passion, death, grief. He pulled Diana closer and felt her hands snake into his hair. He rolled the two of them over so that she was on top of him while he drank from her. He loosened his grip on her and let his hand rest in the small of her back. She straddled him and lay on his chest. As her heart rate slowed, he stopped drinking and as he was instructed, licked the two small puncture wounds. Diana slid off him but Eliot was reluctant to let her go.

Mercier handed him a small towel and he wiped the remaining blood from his mouth and Diana's neck. Eliot lay back and rested with an arm behind his head.

"See, that wasn't so bad," said Diana. "You didn't hurt me."

"So, that's it? I'm a fuzzy, cuddly vampire?" asked Eliot.

"Oh, no, you are a cold blooded killer. We all are, but stacks of bodies draw attention," said Mercier. "Relying on human donors is safer in the long run. In a pinch, you can drink animal blood. Just tell your local slaughter house you're making sausage."

"I bet there are not a lot of Jewish vampires," joked Nate.

Eliot felt a little embarrassed. He had forgotten that Nate and Sophie were still in the room and he wondered what they were really feeling as they watched him.

"How do you feel? "asked Sophie.

"Surprisingly good." replied Eliot.

"Well enough to begin your briefing?" asked Mercier.

"Yea. Yea. I'm ready."

"We'll give you some privacy. Daniel here will be outside the door. When you're dressed, he'll take you downstairs."

Eliot watched everyone leave. Diana was still in the bed.

"Do you mind if I hang here and sleep it off?"

Eliot threw the blankets off and got out of bed. "No, not at all."

"Wow! Wait until you look at yourself in the mirror. Mazel Tov."