There was blood everywhere. It coated the floor and the walls and even the ceiling. Were it not for the metallic smell that overwhelmed my senses, I would have mistaken it for paint. My skin was smeared with it, and I began to forget how I looked without the reddish dye. It soaked into my dress, weighing me down as I splashed through dark puddles. Glassy eyes stared up at me from lifeless bodies scattered about the room. I smiled at them, greeting them by name as I skipped through the room. Pale faces watched me from behind thick iron bars with eyes wide with fear. They backed away when I flounced up to them, and I giggled behind a crimson hand. These men were silly. Did they think they were safe locked in their cell?

"How did this happen?" The blonde man asked.

The bearded man shook his head, his cruel eyes watching me.

"She was given the same thing, right?" Cruel Eyes glared at him. "Look, I'm just making sure."

"It was the same drug. I have no idea why she's like this."

Blondie scooted away from me with a gasp when I slammed my hands on the bars.

"This bitch is insane! We need to put her down!"

Cruel Eyes sighed.

"I believe we already tried that." He motioned to the bodies adorning my room. "She killed everyone."

"Did Arian say what we should do with her?" Blondie asked, eyeing me nervously.

"Wait for the drug to wear off and hope she calms down."

"Seriously!?"

Cruel Eyes gave him a dark look.

"Are you questioning our master's orders?"

"No! Of course not!"

The sound of a heavy door slamming shut made the two jump. Curious, I cocked my head at the sound. Was someone else coming to visit me? A man in a brightly colored robe floated down the stairs speaking amiably with the scowling Demon beside him. He looked to be in his twenties with wheat-blonde hair and sparkling violet eyes. I frowned. Was this man an Angel? My gaze shifted to the snowy-haired Demon. Why was Vincent here?

"I'm sure you can understand my confusion," the robed man said as they approached the bars, "It never dawned on me that she would be among the slaves."

Vincent grunted at this.

"You know I would never purposely harm your human," the man assured him.

"I'm sure," the Demon replied darkly. "Though I can't help but wonder why she's in such a state."

My eyes flickered back to Cruel Eyes and Blondie. They had been silent during this exchange. Why? The two were watching the robed man with a mixture of fear and respect. Oh? Did that make him Arian?

Arian laughed.

"I'm afraid she's suffering from an allergic reactions of sorts. You see the drug I use to make my slaves passive has done the complete opposite with her."

The Demon King eyed the bodies with disgust.

"I can see that."

My head drooped. Even in my red haze, I could sense Vincent's disapproval. He thought I was monster, and he was right. I had taken pleasure in killing each of the men in this room, and even now I felt no remorse. I let my forehead rest on the iron bars, a tired sigh escaping my lips. What was wrong with me?

"Oh? I think it's finally wearing off!"

Arian snickered when I looked up with dead eyes. The joy that accompanied killing the men around me had dissipated, and in its place was horror. The cell door opened as I fell to my knees, retching. What had I done!? Strong arms dragged me to my feet and a hand clamped over my mouth as I started to scream. A crack to my head silenced me, and a growl followed. I was ripped away from Blondie and pulled into Vincent's arms.

"How dare you lay a hand on her!" he roared.

Raising an eyebrow, Arian dismissed the men.

"I apologize for their…imprudence. I fear the young woman has frightened them with her bloodlust."

With a snarl, Vincent whisked me out of the dungeon as Arian's laughter echoed off the walls. People in masquerade masks stared at us as I was dragged through a labyrinth of hallways. I could only imagine how terrifying I looked dyed in Grell's favorite color. Empty-eyed slaves served Supernaturals in lavish sitting rooms as we passed. My stomach twisted. I could have been one of them. Instead, I turned into a bloodthirsty monster. Vincent paused at the ballroom door, his lips drawn into a thin line.

"Close your eyes," he said after a moment.

When I stared at him blankly, he sighed.

"We have to go through here to leave, and I don't want you to see the sickening thing Arian calls a party."

A bloodcurdling scream rang out from the ballroom and Vincent tensed. The knuckles of the hand around my wrist turned white, and I could feel the Demon shaking. Mossy eyes flashed red as a woman's voice pleaded for help, and I watched quietly as Vincent struggled to maintain his composure. This was the first time I had ever seen him so rattled. Whatever was happening in that room was tearing at every fiber of his moral being, and he was powerless to stop it. Vincent flinched at my bloody touch, but when I nodded my head, he looked visibly relieved.

"Thank you," he murmured softly. "I know it will be hard, but try to block out anything you hear as we pass through."

I closed my eyes as the Demon King swung the door open. Lovely music wafted around us as I was carefully led through the room. Voices whispered around us at my unruly appearance, snickering when I stumbled over an outstretched leg. A female voice wondered loudly if Vincent would be willing to share me as her friends tittered. The sound of a blade being sharpened sent shivers down my spine, and I heard my savior snap that he didn't share his prizes. The woman gave a shrill laugh, and I trembled at the sound of tearing flesh. With a low growl, Vincent sped up. Muffled cries of pain and pleasure drowned out the music as we ran, but it was the laughter of the Supernaturals around us that scared me. There was something cold and wrong about their disembodied voices. It gave me the startling realization that I was a rabbit among wolves. Shuddering, I prayed we would escape soon.

"Leaving so soon, Vincent?" A husky voice teased.

The Demon stopped, every muscle tense.

"I'm afraid so, Julia."

Delicate fingers caressed my cheek, and my eyes popped open. A gorgeous woman gazed at me like one would at a delicious entrée. Her eyes mirrored Arian's in both color and emotion, but there was something dark just below the surface. Something…evil. With a toss of her golden hair, she gave me a dazzling smile as her hands crept down my body.

"What a lovely creature," she purred, "Is there any way I can convince you to give her to me?"

I flinched under her touch, shying away from fingers methodically tearing away my blood-soaked bodice. The hungry stares of the masked fiends around us amplified my terror, but before I could flee, Vincent yanked me away. Shielding my eyes with a trembling hand, the Demon dragged me away from the amused chuckle of the demented woman.

"Come, now, Vincent. I was only joking," she called after him, her tone saying otherwise.

This time, he didn't reply. Sweeping me into his arms, he sprinted through the mansion and launched himself outside. Even then, he continued to run, putting as much distance between us and the evil creatures inside. I listened to his racing heart as he darted through the city, curious but afraid as to why Julia frightened him. My musing was interrupted by Vincent suddenly stopping. Uncovering my eyes, the Demon slumped against the door of a funeral parlor. His hair was free from its braid, with the ends tinted red from where it brushed against my skin. Blood stained his dress shirt and arms from carrying me, and a bloody handprint adorned his sleeve. Cradling me against his chest, Vincent rapped on the door behind him three times.

The door opened just a crack and a silver-haired man stuck his head out, grinning manically.

"Now, what do-?"

Upon seeing Vincent, the man's smile faded. With strength that seemed beyond his thin frame, he grabbed the Demon by the shoulders and hauled us into his shop. After flipping the 'open' sign to 'closed', the door was shut and locked. Silver bangs were swept away as the man knelt down to examine us with gold-green eyes. The snowy Demon gave him a weak grin.

"I told you I would visit, Adrian."

The Reaper flicked his forehead with a chuckle.

"No, you said you would come by to drink tea with me. I doubt that will be the case today."

Vincent rolled his eyes, but allowed Adrian to help him to his feet. Setting me on the lid of a coffin, the Demon explained what happened at the party while the Reaper listened raptly, tapping a finger against his lips. He seemed unsurprised by my reaction to whatever drug Arian pumped into my body, but his eyes narrowed when Vincent mentioned Julia.

"So, even she is interested in our dark rose," he murmured thoughtfully, gold-green eyes glancing in my direction.

Vincent followed his gaze with a frown.

"Taylor, there is a shower in the back room. Why don't you go wash up?"

I nodded and allowed the silver-haired man to lead me to a small bathroom. He didn't say a word to me, but I could feel his eyes watching my every move. Perhaps he was waiting to see if I would say something about that day on Maiden Lane. He knew who I was, and while I had hundreds of questions for him, I was far too exhausted to ask them. After leaving a black robe on the sink similar to the one he was wearing, Adrian vanished. With him gone, I stripped and tossed my dress into the sink. I stepped under the stream of water with a contented sigh. God, I forgot how heavenly showers could be.

Both men waited silently, straining to hear the telltale sound of running water. Vincent smirked at the young woman's sigh, before turning his attention to Adrian Crevan. The exiled Reaper, who went by Undertaker for some strange reason, was a close friend of his. They met back when Adrian was still a Reaper-in-training and he was attending the prestigious Supernatural school known as Black Rose Academy. Vincent mused over the many centuries that passed since their first meeting with a smile. It was hard to imagine a time when the Reaper wasn't at his side. Said Reaper was currently drinking tea from a beaker, hiding a grin behind the glass.

"Soo~ Did you have fun at the party?"

Vincent rolled his eyes.

"Do you even need to ask?"

Sobering, Adrian set his glass down.

"I thought Taylor was being guarded by some of the strongest Supernaturals in the Realms. How did she end up as a Councilman's slave?"

The Demon leaned against a coffin, his fingers brushing against the satin lining.

"Apparently my son's mate was investigating the disappearance of some singers from a music hall he owns in Starfield. Foolishly, he and Damion felt that it was safe to use Taylor as bait with Kane rotting in a cell."

Adrian rolled his eyes.

"There are things in this world much worse than Kane."

Nodding his head in agreement, Vincent reflected on the girl's violent reaction to Arian's drug.

"I still don't understand why the drug made her bloodthirsty," he admitted with a sigh. "It's like it drove her mad and sent her on a killing spree."

The Reaper was quiet. Long silver hair hid his eyes as he reached for his drink. Vincent gave him a sharp look.

"You know something."

"I know a lot of things," Adrian stated.

"Adrian."

With a quick glance towards the back room, the Reaper leaned forward.

"There are some things best left unsaid." The Demon scowled. "I will tell you that her reaction was not a freak occurrence. There is a reason for it, but she must discover it on her own."

Vincent's questioning look earned him a sad smile.

"Do you remember what I told you, old friend?"

"About how the world is not as it seems?"

He nodded.

"What about it?"

"I am one of the few people who remembers the world as it was before," Adrian said wistfully, "I also know why the world changed."

Vincent followed his gaze.

"Are you implying Taylor had something to do with it?"

The Reaper only smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Before he could press further, Taylor appeared in the doorway engulfed in a black robe. It was comically too big for her with sleeves that made her look like a child in their parent's shirt. The hem stopped at her ankles, and Vincent winced at the ugly bruises. It came as no surprise that she had been chained, but the wounds still bothered him. He was relieved to see the blood washed from her skin. She no longer looked like the crazed animal in Arian's dungeon, but her actions had taken their toll. Her skin had taken on an ashy hue that made her look sickly. Dull gray eyes were glued to the floor, drained of both light and emotion. The sight gave him the distinct feeling that he was looking at a walking corpse. Exchanging a concerned look with Adrian, Vincent gestured for Taylor to sit next to him. The woman shambled over to him and hopped up onto the coffin. Wrapping a protective arm around her, Vincent dug out his cell phone, relieved to see it in one piece. He texted his location to the leader of his escort, smirking when Alice texted back to scold him for running off. A knock at the front door followed and Adrian giggled as an elderly Cleric stormed in the funeral parlor.

"Where the hell have you been?" she snapped.

Vincent gave her a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, Alice. Something came up."

The Cleric's eyes narrowed.

"Oh? It couldn't possibly have something to do with crashing a Councilman's party, would it?"

The Demon started to stammer out an apology, but Alice held up a hand.

"It doesn't matter. You're safe." Her sharp gaze landed on Taylor. "We will drop off the girl before heading home. Come."

Vincent guided Taylor from the shop, passing her off to a blonde Witch who spoke softly while smoothing her hair. The Demon paused in the doorway before his mossy eyes turned to Adrian. The Reaper was drinking his tea thoughtfully, and gave his friend a reassuring grin.

"She will be fine."

Vincent nodded, but a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. His gaze landed on something beside the coffin Adrian sat on, and his expression softened.

"Thank you."

Puzzled, the Reaper cocked his head.

"Of course. That's what friends do."

The man gave him a sad smile.

"Tell him that I still love him."

And then he was gone. Adrian watched the door close with a sigh. Sliding from his perch, the Reaper retrieved the guitar peeking out from behind the glossy black coffin. The lid of the one he sat on only moments before swung open. A young man in a white t-shirt and dark wash jeans sat up. His face was buried in his hands as snowy hair tumbled over the sides of his hiding place, and Adrian put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Your father loves you dearly," he reminded the boy, offering him a beaker of tea.

The boy refused the drink and climbed from the coffin.

"Damion told him I was back," he said mournfully.

"Did you think you could hide your presence forever?"

Shay shook his head.

"I didn't want him to know that his son was a monster."

Adrian's heart panged with grief. Shayata Powers never asked to be brought back. Yet, the human known simply as Kane used the foulest of magic to force the young Demon's soul back into his preserved body. The Guardian's intention was to use Shay against Taylor, but had failed to understand how powerful his resurrected tool would be. The man even went so far as to put a magical collar on Shay to bend him to his twisted will. The Reaper watched the young Demon disappear into the back room. Removing the collar had been simple with the use of his Death Scythe, but helping the young man live with his fragmented soul was nearly impossible. Even with his extensive knowledge of Void Magic, there was no feasible way to retrieve the rest of Shay's soul. The best he could do right now was find ways for the Demon to cope. So far, Adrian had found two things that helped to calm Shay; music and gum. He was currently teaching Shay how to play guitar, or rather reteaching. His charge had been a musical prodigy in life, but his talent was absent in his rebirth. As for the second thing, it seemed that the repetitive motion of his jaw allowed him to collect his thoughts and choose his words carefully. The Demon despised this tactic, stating that it was 'unprincely' to be seen chewing gum, but he could not deny the effect.

"You are not a monster," the Reaper said after a moment.

The boy snorted.

"Really? Have you forgotten what I've done? Who I've hurt?"

Adrian clasped his hand in front of him calmly.

"A monster would not have braved his father's palace to leave a letter with Taylor's location. A monster would not have infiltrated a Councilman's home to ensure both his father and ex-fiancée escaped unharmed."

"I owe her that much, don't I?" Shay growled. "Her life is in shambles because of me."

The Reaper's unflinching stare pierced through him uncomfortably.

"A monster does not feel remorse, and it is clear that you do," Adrian stated softly, "You are not a monster, Shay, but I fear you may have created one."