It took work to get the wooden plaque and its plaster forms out, embedded as it was in David's back. If he'd had a crowbar, something to use as a lever instead of just his bare hands, Michael knew it would have gone faster.

"You are so slow, human." The blonde griped.

"All you do is hold a gun and complain. I'm sure you'd be much faster." Michael retorted, as the wooden plaque finally came free. He tossed it in the open hole, hard enough to flatten a few of the vacuum bags. The nauseating stench of decay and death filled the night air as David's death wounds were exposed.

Michael gagged, coughing hard, his stomach turning over at the putrid odor. Vampires smelled bad but a vampire corpse was unimaginably foul. Backing away, Michael coughed again and spat into the hole, trying to get the smell and taste out of his mouth.

"When you're done, roll him over." The blonde directed, gesturing with the gun.

Spitting a second time, Michael rubbed his mouth with the back of his arm, regretting it. His skin was dirty and sweaty and did nothing to improve the taste he was gagging against. Squaring his shoulders, he returned to the body on the carpet and put his tennis shoe against the side of David's ribs. With a strong shove, David was now lying face up, his arms and legs akimbo, the black coat spread out like broken wings.

"There, happy?" Michael grumbled.

The blonde shrugged. "Get down on your knees."

"What?" Michael couldn't feign surprise. "Why, your aim isn't good enough to shoot me where I stand?"

Frowning, the petite blonde stepped over David's body to come closer to Michael, the gun still aimed at him. "I told you, Michael, I'm not going to shoot you unless you force me to. Now get on your damn knees."

With a huff, Michael sank to the carpet. For good measure he held his hands up in the air, as though he were being arrested. "Fine, whatever."

There was a metallic click sound, something hard encircling his left wrist. By the time Michael realized what was happening, it was too late for him to do anything about it. The blonde had pocketed the gun and was handcuffing his wrists behind his back.

He jerked against the cuffs but only succeeded in angering her. The blonde smacked the back of his head with her open palm, nearly sending him face down onto the carpeting. "Michael, just give up."

"Never!" He felt her hand on the back of his calf and tried to kick. Michael missed and landed on his side, the impact knocking the breath out of his lungs.

"It's fine, pretend you don't know when you're beaten. No skin off my nose." The blonde sighed as she produced a roll of duct tape and proceeded to wrap it tightly around Michael's ankles. Satisfied, she tore the roll free and smoothed down the end.

Lying still, Michael worked to get his breathing back to normal. The blonde left him there, walking the few feet over to where Star lay.

"Get up." She commanded, nudging Star's backside with the toe of her boot. Star didn't move. "I know you're awake. Your heart's been pounding since Michael rolled David's body…" The blonde leaned over Star, brushing the dark curls back from her face.

With a feral shriek, Star leaned up and sank her blunt teeth into the side of the blonde's hand. She hung on while the blonde tried to shake her loose, snarling at the pain and the audacity of the former half-vampire.

"Star!" Michael yelled, wiggling, trying to get to his knees, unsure of how to help. Star clamped her jaws harder, making the blonde scream.

There was a sharp smack as the blonde's left fist connected with Star's eye socket, sending the brunette's head snapping back. Her teeth came free as she fell into the dirt, groaning and crying.

"Damn it!" The blonde snarled, cradling her damaged hand. Michael could smell the blood as it dripped into the dirt. He could remember the feeling that scent would have inspired when he was a half-vampire, the hunger it would have triggered. Now, nothing happened.

The blonde kicked Star in the thigh, making the brunette cry out in pain. Holding her wounded hand tucked into her chest, she grabbed Star by the hair and half dragged her towards Michael. "Couldn't go quietly, could you."

Star cried out louder, unable to fight the hand wrapped in her hair, her hands still bound behind her back. She pushed against the ground, her feet scrabbling in the dirt, as she was moved over to where Michael lay on the carpet. She screamed as the blonde yanked hard, ripping strands of hair from Star's scalp, before she finally let go.

"Son of a bitch," the blonde was spitting mad, trying to look at the bite marks. Michael squirmed across the carpet, trying to get closer to Star. If he could somehow get to the belt around Star's wrists, he could free her…

"I don't think so." The blonde's boot connected with his sternum, shoving him away from the whimpering brunette. Michael rolled backwards, away from Star, almost into the hole.

"Michael!" Star cried, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"It's okay, Star." He called back, realizing what cold comfort his reassurance offered.

"So touching but I'm over it now." The blonde walked away from them, shrugging off her leather jacket, easing the sleeve down over her injured hand. She dropped it behind her as she advanced towards David's corpse.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the fun and games to begin."