Author's Note: Hey, everyone! I know it's been MONTHS since I last updated, I'm so sorry! I've been doing so much stuff lately that I had no free time to write (and a writer's block came up). Chapter's really short, so please READ AND REVIEW, you are much loved if you do!

My breath was nearly taken away at my discovery of the old leather picture. The face was montrous, hungry and unearthly as its jaws had spread apart, ready to eat my soul. The eyes were pitch black, sucking every part of me into the depths of a bottomless abyss. My heart lurched, my stomach dropped, and my knees felt wobbly. My hands went cold.

I really had to stop freaking out, but I couldn't help it. There was some weird shit going on in this house and I didn't have anyone to talk to. If I told my mother, she would flip her shit. If I told my sister, she'd flip shit. Charley and Amy would flip their shit, too.

Basically, everyone would flip shit if I said anything. One-way ticket to Hell, a guarantee that I would go to the psych ward without a second thought. I was totally sure of it-so fucking sure.

I bounded down the attic stairs to the second floor of the house, speedwalking down the hallway and into my room. The desk lamp was flicked on, dimly lighting the room with the creepy picture in my hands.

Normally when you're holding an old, leathery ancient picture that depicts a terrifying vampire from Mediterranean myth, you don't immediately think of the word family. It just wasn't appropriate. In fact, it was the sickest and most perverted thing you could dream of when looking at such a picture that should have inspired absolute terror. I should have dropped it, screamed, and ran the fuck out of the house, but I didn't. Instead, I saw the picture and thought FAMILY. It couldn't have been my thoughts; it couldn't have been me feeling an almost warm, fuzzy feeling of affection toward it. It couldn't have been me having a sudden yearning to have it all back, as if I had lost something of a dear treasure. I stared at it with wide, transfixed eyes, taking in every detail, feeling a wave of calmness and serenity wash over my eagerness to find this thing. I wanted to sway to pounding music, to feel the wind on my face...

My vision blurred at my unnatural, delirious happiness that came from nowhere. My bed morphed into a blue blob, the ceiling became a sky, the floor the earth, and I felt my heart finally calm itself into a relaxed rhythym. I felt myself sway slightly, only to have a pair of hands on my sides to steady me.

I was pulled into a pair of strong arms, against a shaped torso that seemed only to fit me, and something of a chin rest gently on top of my head. Every part of me was soaring, the room spinning in a joyous dance around me. I was sure that my breathing had started to turn into slow breaths and I felt that I was being rocked side to side-an action my mother would do to calm me.

The voice had stopped bothering me for now, but the physical sensation of being held didn't. Something like a thumb stroked at my ribcage, warm breath blew at the crown of my head, and the delirious contentment hadn't eased up at all, either.

Why was I even acting so high right now?

"Jocelyn," whispered his voice.

*Charley's POV*

"Look Peter, I think something is going on at Jerry's house. She's been acting strange lately since what happened at the pool. It's like…I don't even know how to describe it anymore. She's just…"

I was on the phone with the one and only magician—sorry, illusionist—who helped me get rid of the leech (that was after Jocelyn) a few years ago. I just couldn't believe my ears. Even the fucking person I depended on to help me didn't believe what I was trying to tell him. How was I supposed to get him to come over and at least check out what was going on in this neighbourhood? I was dying here!

"Charley, how the fuck could Jerry survive after WE killed him? Have you ever heard of post-traumatic stress disorder? "Cause it sounds you've gone batshit crazy," he had replied after my rant about Jocelyn and the house.

"Could you just believe me for a second? There's shit going on that can't be explained away with fucking science. How can a street lamp make a three-dimensional shadow that was walking erect appear behind Jocelyn and touch her? And my eyes weren't playing tricks on me either, Pete. I saw what I saw."

"And that's what you saw, kid.I can't believe you when I haven't seen it with you."

"Fuck, Peter! Can't you just take a moment and at least consider the possibility of a restless spirit form of Jerry? He was a vampire, remember? You didn't believe that, either."

I heard Peter snort rudely and then sigh in defeat as I did the kill shot of reasoning, and I couldn't hold back the bitterness I felt in my voice.

"Are you in or not? "

"You're going to get yourself killed. Of fucking course, you dumbass."

"Great."

Well, at least his way of saying "bro, I love you" hadn't gone from him.

"Thanks, Pete. When did you wanna meet up?"

I barely had time to register what was happening until my back had hit my bed, vampire-ghost-thing leaning over me. The hand that had swallowed my mouth whipped my head to the side, the sudden full weight of Jerry, the fucking vampire pressing heavily onto my torso. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs, they burned too much.

"Shh," he tried to calm me, "Jocelyn, don't fight."

I could only squirm and exhale shakily, staring at the sudden fangs that had slipped from his gums. I kicked hard at my bedpost, the pain shooting from my heel up my leg-a motion I regretted instantly-which had earned a wickedly amused chuckle from him. My lamp had been turned off, the tapestry dropped to the floor, and the shutters to my window had been closed. It was completely dark, except for whatever I could see with my eyes.

Which was Jerry, who was probably very bored and very hungry.

And me, who was very alone and very vulnerable because my sister was at college and my mom wouldn't come home until the morning. Whom's muffled screaming and struggling was going in vain when an actual threat appeared in the house.

"Joce, it's just you and me. No one is going to be home for hours."

His free hand pinned my opposite shoulder to the bed, "We can hang out until then. And you know what? "

Freezing cold breath flew down my throat, making me shudder. His fangs were grazing my skin menacingly, ghosting over where my pulsepoint was.

"I'm starving."

"Mmph!" I cried, sounding like a wounded, surprised puppy. I kicked again, uselessly digging my feet into the covers with energy I was suddenly losing. Lead weights tied themselves to my limbs, eyelids growing heavy, muscles relaxed; the only thing I could really feel anymore was the sucking on my neck, only with no liquid coming out. No blood. I moved weakly again, but he wasn't done yet. I felt my eyes rolling into the back of my head when he pulled away suddenly, licking his lips.

I was too tired to move or struggle anymore, instead going limp to show I was done fighting.

"You've been so good to me, Joce," he whispered, leaning in again, "I just need one more thing from you."

He breathed in deeply, the form of his lips shaped into a smirk against my throat. Something wet touched there, running up to just below the soft area below my ear.

I blacked out.