Paul's eyes harden at the compromising position my body's sprawled in- old fashioned frisky femme black and red corset with an underbra adorning my fit torso and silken ebony and red lingerie hanging delicately on my core, ankles fastened harshly to the bed posts, arms wrapped unyeildingly around a cold body, and mouth overflowing with a surplus of delectable white substance dribbling down my chin. I realize the body is dead all too late- because I am focused on the sweet marshmallow fluff- and Paul's eyes are burning the vampire with enough fury to make the Queen Fury, Alecto, flinch, emitting Superman-esque laser beam vision just oozing with hatred. The moment the dead man under me speaks, Paul's form blurs into a giant, vicious, silver puppy. Paul's fur glitters in the daybreak indigo light and mist sweeps the ground around his silver paws.

"Mutt," the leech mutters, condescending turned possessive, "She's MINE!"

This is the second time I've ever hated being a daughter of Aphrodite (and twice in one month). Uh, Mommy, a little help here? Aphrodite isn't the most helpful of of the gods to her children. She loves them, as she ought to, and makes it her life goal to see them starry-eyed at least once, but does nothing when it turns star-crossed. She simply sits back and enjoys the show.

The silver wolf bears it's razor blade teeth menacingly, whether focused on moi or the bloodsucker, I am unsure. Both of us get the message, however. I squeeze my eyelids shut, blocking the easy flow of streaming tears and ignoring the facts swimming to the forefront of my mind's tropical beach, about how to avoid wrinkles. Lightning crackles overhead and I think, Figures the oh so dramatic lord of theatre is having a field day over this! Storm clouds pelt my uncovered skin with freezing raindrops.

The leech keeps me in an even tighter wrist lock. Damien grins at me eerily. I shiver. And how exactly am I on first name basis with a vampire? That's part of the reason Paul may or may not be growling at me. Probably not, since I'm his soul mate. Or some shit.

Paul snarls. And all Hades breaks loose.


Two weeks earlier...

A bubbly giggle escapes my smooth Baby Lips-ed lips as Paul tickles me unyeildingly. I struggle to convince myself to keep to my own terms (War is NOT a great time for a flighty dalliance or fling, much less a committed relationship. Ares may have different ideas), but lately the lines have begun to conflate, blending together like shades of chalk. My normal character is not demure, or even slightly shy and reserved. Not even kind of.

However, desperate times call for even more desperate measures, as said by who the hell knows, child of Athena or something. I squeal, and my sides ache for solitude. Well, not exactly, since I'd love for his magical hands to be on my waist—just not cruelly torturing me with feather-light touches. The desperate times part refers to both my insane array of firework feelings for the magical-handed, Aphrodite-Ares hybrid, copper-skinned wolf-man and Camp being on the brink of all-out war on Earth. It's the day Percy set to leave, which is probably why Paul is in such a lighthearted mood.

"Paul!" chided Emily, "Give that poor girl a break."

I squeal as he rolls me off his lap again to the quilt-covered couch. My eyes a gold, and not in the possessed by Kronos or vegetarian vampire way. I'm just happy. My pajamas are mussed and my dark locks are in no better condition. I tug my flowing rosy efflorescent strappy tank top down to cover my belly button and readjust my fluffy love-covered pants. Today I am as effervescent as Orange Soda and I'm grinning broadly as Percy drags his feet desultory down the wooden stairs.

"Good morning, Percy! Did you sleep well?" I chirp. Paul tugs at my waist so I'm back where I started, on his lap.

Percy makes a noncommittal noise grunt that sounds something like, "Mornin'." I quirk my head at him. He resembles a good-looking Greek God zombie. What was he doing all night?

I repeat my thoughts aloud, and before Percy has a chance to answer, Embry tromps in with an evocative grin on his face. "Yeah, Percy, what were you doing all night?" It was so not my intention to be suggestive.

Percy murmurs, "Sleepin'," and collapses at the table with a dull thud, sea green orbs gorging on the plate of pancakes before him.

Embry looks like he might explode with holding back, so he decides not to. "With who?" Embry adds. I roll my eyes cheerily. I suppose he would die from suppressed innuendo.

Percy eyes the waffles, and then blurts out, "Do you make these in blue?" Then he looks confused, as if he might be remembering something, but doesn't know what. Emily gives him a confused look. Sam walks in the kitchen.

"Why would you want them blue?" she asks.

He shrugs. "It's just something... You know, one of those things you know were important to you, but you don't know why." I suppress the urge to blurt out that it was his favorite color because of a conversation with his mother and his ex-stepfather, Gabriel Ugliano. Yeah, we fangirls do get around. Emily shrugs and bends, opening a cabinet, extracting a bottle of blue food coloring and adds it to the next batch. Embry covers his plate of pancakes in a ocean of maple syrup. Sam waits until she turns to plant a peck on her cheek. She grins, turning her face away shyly.

"Good morning, love," she welcomes him. He replies accordingly. I smile at their felicity, and Paul sets me on my feet as he goes for a second plate of pancakes. Soon, the rest of the pack walks in, except Jacob and Jared, who are on patrol for the oh so lovable vampire race. I've already had my fill of the dulcet syrup and fluffy pancakes.

So I gambol my way upstairs, skipping to get dressed in normal clothes before we go to the beach and send the son of the sea god off sometime at noon. 11 to 2ish. Surprisingly, Seth Clearwater did get to go play bumper cars, because we haven't had an attack since the Hellhound Massacre. Hades, hope you don't miss your puppies too bad. Sorry I kicked 'em. Dead.

I dig through my fetching bag, envisioning outfits that would pop into my hand, I would try on, and disapprove of. We're going to the beach! I mentally find a Evita bandeau bikini in vibrant green and pair it with a white hi-lo tube dress and green sandals. I pull out a soft faded matching towel and silver earrings. I slip it on, eyeing my reflection in the full length mirror and nodding approvingly.

Suddenly, a frosty ethereal feeling sends metaphorical shivers down my spine, and my ebony eyes flickered back to the mirror through my thickly mascara'd lashes. There was the chalky white face of the vampire. I drop my bag in shock. The leech smiles with full white teeth. The sight of him is enough to imbue fear in the pits of my stomach. I whirl, around, but he's not there. He's only in the... mirror. Am I hallucinating?

"Hello, Alexandra..." he whispers in a dulcet, mellifluous tone. "You will be mine." It sounds like melting honey. My stomach overturns. A penumbra, half-shadow, is behind me. He's only in the mirror, but his shadow's right here. Finally a normal human reaction: I let loose a toe-curling, ear-scarring scream, and somehow my fist connects with the glass mirror, right where his gorgeous face is. A spiderweb crack ripples through the glass, thoroughly shattering it. I don't stop screaming and my throat burns, even by the time- instanteously- when Paul and the others are in this room.

"She broke the mirror with her reflection," Embry's voice jokes, "Hell, even she's not THAT ugly." I bristle.

My pure black fearful eyes are wide and I'm trembling. I can imagine I look like an addict suffering from intense withdrawal symptoms. In other words, my stepmother.

His words echo in my mind, searing themselves there, like a tattoo. You will be mine.

I really wish I'd done something else, anything, even let him suck my blood- which would be better than being an object that a leech is obsessed with. Paul's arms wrap around me comfortingly, after a forever. I catch my breath and I'm crying, sobbing, blubbering- I'd never been this scared. How in Zeus's name does the vampire have the ability to appear in mirrors? I liked it better when it was a myth, and all they did was sparkle.

I adopt a woebegone expression, hopelessly trying to force the tears back.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Paul bellows, glowering at all around. "Are you bleeding? What the hell happened?!"

HELLO, ALEXANDRA, the voice hisses like burnt sugar, YOU WILL BE MINE.

No!I screech.

He shakes, and Sam rips him away from me, ordering him out of the house before I get hurt. I'm already hurt, I realize, since blood is pooling on my hi-lo tube dress. Well, that won't ever come out. The pain comes later.

I am really screwed.

YOU WILL BE MINE.


I'm in a trance as someone named Sue Clearwater sews up my wounded fist. I get five stitches on the side of my palm that lines up with my pinkie finger and seven at my knuckles.

Everyone's trying to extract information from me, and Sue hisses every time she touches my wound. "Why is it so cold?" What? I'm brought out of my trance in a tizzy. My eyes show some sort of comprehension.

"She's not brain dead!" Leah cheers. Paul squeezes my unwounded hand with warmth.

Sam frowns. "But the wound is only cold when... that only happens when... a leech causes the damage."

Paul's head snaps to attention, his eyes furious and hateful. "I'll kill it!" he swears a vendetta, letting loose a string of four-letter-words with enough color to be rainbow cusses. Where's my pot o' gold? I'm glad he'd avenge my not-even broken hand. If I was in my right mind I could probably heal it myself. I love you Apollo. I mentally sing my praises. I wonder if they have me on drugs right now.

Paul shakes, tremors rattling his body. Oh, go smoke a peace pipe, Paul. Damn. He's hot when he's angry. Did I mention that? Yeah, I did... Like two chapters ago? What? I'm insane. SO...

Eh, probably not on drugs. I get like this sometimes.

"But we didn't smell Eau de Vamp in there," Jared insists. "It smelt normal. No sickly sweet scent that burns our noses." Burnt sugar, I decide, is a good was to put it.

"You said that some vampires have special abilities," Percy suggests, "Maybe this one's is Air Freshener or something." Sam tilts his head like he might be considering it. Then he shakes it abruptly.

"No, we smelt it definitely earlier, on the beach." Sam says. Beach... sand... water... I think felicitously. Ow, though, to my hand, as Sue pulls the needle out and fastens the stitches. And ew.

"Ambrosia," I rasp, and the supernatural hearers snap their heads toward me.

"What?" asks Paul, stroking my hair gently like I'm a frightened child. Maybe I am. Technically I'm not an adult yet, but he's nineteen. I'll be eighteen next month, I presume.

"Bag. Front pocket," I mutter. "Looks like candy."

Brady's ears perk, and in a second he's in my magical designer bag. Hmm... candy, he must be thinking. The first pocket of my bag is small and unmagical. It holds my nectar and ambrosia, camp necklace when I'm not wearing it, and a mix of drachmas and American dollars that replenish themselves. Brady pulls a few gold coins out. "Oooh... shiny!" he says, distractedly, and Colin grabs a few. Brady grabs a doggy (see what I did there? Oh, nevermind) bag of golden squares out and hands it to Paul, who decides to mouth-feed me. I open my mouth, letting him. He gives me two squares and the taste of warm angel cake melts in my mouth. I almost moan in appreciation. My throat heals and my hand heals itself slowly. Seth reaches for one and I almost scream.

"No!" I cry, "You can't have one. If anyone but a half-blood eats it, their insides burst into flames!" Seth recoils immediately.

"We're already so hot..." jokes Jacob. "But why?"

"Ambrosia is the food of the gods," Kim says, smartly. Figures. I believe she is a daughter of Athena. "We have half-god in us, so we can eat them to an extent. If we have too many, we risk burning up." Paul immediately ceases shoving them down my throat. "They taste delicious, like your favorite food multiplied in goodness by a billion." Yes, they do. "And it heals us."

All look tempted, regardless of the bursting into flames part. I don't blame them one bit.

"So what happened up there that you needed to break my mirror?" Emily inquires wryly. I take a deep breath, and the story just spills out of me.


By noontime, we let Percy go. The sun is directly overhead, at its peak, high in the cloudless sky. The pack is surprised, saying it's a first for this area. It usually storms, apparently. I was right. Zeus DOES like this town. Or hate it, depending on his logic.

Kim exchanges her goodbyes with Percy before me, and so do the rest of the pack- the one's that like him at least. Paul is almost grinning from ear to ear. He's really jealous, I snicker to myself.

"Bye, Percy," I say, sadly. "I'll miss you. Hope you get back to camp soon."

He looks hopeful. "Any chance you're going to tell me where it is?"

I shake my head. "Can't. Wish I could."

"Just a hint?" he urges. "Doesn't even have to be where it is. Tell me something about me."

I duck my head, forcing myself to study the pattern of the dirt made by the wolf pack trekking over it. "Sorry. I've given you quite a few. And you're already starting to remember, at least a little. Blue pancakes..." I murmur the last part.

Percy swallows. His Adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat. "No. It's okay. I'll find it on my own."

I chew on my lower lip mournfully. "Just don't-" I start, but cut myself off, and begin again. "Can you not, like, mention me to Annabeth, or anyone? They won't be very happy I kept you from going to them."

He nods. "Okay."

"You're a good guy, Percy," I say. "That's something about you. You're so loyal. You'd give up the world to save a friend."

"Thanks." Percy smiles faintly. "Goodbye."

"Good luck," I call out to his retreating form. "You'll need it." I add the last part once he's out of view.

We do end up going to the beach, and I get a personal bodyguard. I wonder how in Hades I'm going to not end up hurting people by getting with Paul if he's always with me to enhance my already sparky emotions. Most daughters of Aphrodite don't hate feelings.

I really, really do.

I start craving cheesecake. Damn. Paul and Embry dunk me, and we have a chicken fight, and then we go back to Sam and Emily's. For a "snack". Ha! They are just hungry assholes. I don't end up getting cheesecake.

A week passes and nothing really happens- albeit Paul and I going on some unsaid dates. Sue's diner, picnic on the beach, cliff diving... etc. Two minor monster attacks occur. One was a sea serpent, neon green with azure blue fins and translucent scales. I killed that one easily enough- choking it with a celestial bronze plated scarf. RIP Scarfie! I almost bawled my eyes out. Then on the diner date, one of the waitresses was a empousai. It was pretty easy, given their expertise. Seth basically got seduced, however.

The poor, poor young child. He's only, what? Fourteen, you blood-sucking, life-leeching, forever-young cradle-robber. Seth is fourteen! ZEUS, and he's hot, Native American, and looks like he's twenty something or other. Not quite twenty five, like the other wolves look, or eighteenish, like Colin and Brady. Sam looks to be around twenty-seven.

Paul looks hot, to be honest.

They all have sexy russet skin. My skin is pale. IT'S A CURSE! Look at how the pale vampires turned out.

I gnaw on my dinner on the first Monday night of the week. It's just me, Emily, and Kim here, since the rest of the pack is out phased, patrolling. I swallow the last bit of burger, and then tell Emily I'm going to bed.

I change into a silk tank top and satin shorts, and slide into the bathroom. As soon as I close the door, I face the mirror, and I don't even have time to scream before I'm grabbed, and physically pulled through the mirror.

Holy Hades.