Fear washed over me in a wave as the darkness receded. I blinked groggily against the late afternoon light. My shoulders throbbed from spending the day half-propped against hard cabinets. A groan escaped my throat as I sat up. Every bit of movement drew pain from me.

I grabbed the empty butcher paper and balled it up in one hand before tossing it in the trash.

My stomach heaved at the memory of consuming raw meat.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I wondered aloud as I headed for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, I was freshly showered and my mouth scrubbed minty clean with a liberal dose of toothpaste. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I pulled back my hair in a ponytail. While I looked healthy enough, my reflection was strangely pale.

Night was rapidly approaching.

The lower the sun dipped – the more alive I felt.

Humming under my breath, I pulled on jeans and a pale pink t-shirt with a blooming rose on the front. The moment I was dressed I headed straight out the back door to the deck overlooking the ocean.

Salt air assaulted my senses.

Breathing deep, I allowed my eyes to rest on the beauty of the ocean glowing gold with the sun sinking over the horizon.

Jolly came bounding into view with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his tail wagging madly. He sat in front of me with his tail thumping against the wood planks.

I laughed and scratched him behind the ears. "Well hello there!"

My phone began buzzing. I pulled it out of my back pocket. "Shit!" Sucking in a deep breath, I released it in a soft exhale before accepting the call. "Hello Jessica!"

Jessica Whiteside was my best friend; I hadn't spoken to her in a couple of weeks.

'You're an asshole,' my conscience whispered.

"I'm here!" She cried out in shrill voice.

I yanked the phone away from my ear and stared at it hard. Slowly, I brought the phone up and pressed it against my ear. "Where exactly is here?"

Jessica was silent a moment before laughing. "Uh… Santa Carla. I'm at the Morgan House Bed and Breakfast on West Cliff Drive to be precise. Surprise!"

My mouth dropped and Jolly cocked his head before whining. I stroked his jaw absently. "You're kidding. That's awesome."

A nervous giggle tickled my ear. "Sorry I didn't give you notice but I wanted to see you."

"Wow! What a surprise," I fumbled the words awkwardly as I desperately grasped at the memory of her face. "Um… let me grab a cab and we can meet up at your Bed and Breakfast." Why couldn't I remember what Jessica looked like?

"I'll be waiting," she responded quietly before hanging up.

I stared at the phone in my hand before shoving it into my pocket.

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon leaving the sky shades of periwinkle, deep lavender, and onyx. A crescent moon was suspended in the darkest part of the sky with a liberal sprinkle of stars. Sheer beauty took my breath away.

Strong arms slid around my waist pulling me against a hard body. "Good evening, baby." Marko gently kissed the edge of my jaw. "How did you sleep?"

All thought of Jessica fled as I turned in his arms. "I slept like the dead – except for the moment I woke up and ate a pound of raw hamburger."

Marko's sleepy gaze suddenly sharpened even as a mild grin crept across his lips. "Say what?"

"Raw. Hamburger." I arched a brow. "That's not normal."

He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the tip of my nose. "You worry too much. It's probably some weird part of the healing process. Who was on the phone?"

Deep inside some part of me was screaming to stay silent. The look on Marko's face was pure patience even as I felt a prodding sensation to come clean. "My best friend Jessica from Denver is in town to see me." Marko was silent and while his expression was completely serene; his body stiffened – just a little. "I vaguely recall promising her a vacation at my beach house before I left Denver. So," I concluded brightly. "Jess is collecting."

Marko nodded and looked over my shoulder toward the ocean. "Do you need a ride into town?"

"You aren't upset?"

He gave an amused snort as he caressed my waist with both hands. "Shit no. One of the things I like about you is the fact you give me space without bitching and moaning about it. I figure the least I can do is return the favor." Marko smirked. "Ride?"

"Yes please."

Marko grinned and led me back inside. "Good deal."

Instead of driving like a maniac, Marko drove in almost a leisurely fashion to Morgan House Bed and Breakfast. The B&B was a beautiful old Victorian three story beauty complete with gingerbread trim and stained glass windows.

Fairy lights decorated the wide, sweeping front veranda overlooking the Pacific.

Jessica was standing on the porch illuminated… she looked like a complete stranger. I barely recalled her face or wild Orphan Annie hairdo or the curve of her throat.

I blinked. 'Throat? What the hell am I thinking?'

Marko waited for me to get off the bike before he followed.

"What are you doing?"

He shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "I wanted to meet your friend." His eyebrows shot up. "Problem?"

"No," I stuttered.

A Cheshire cat grin spread slowly over his mouth. "You're a friggin' hoot sometimes, girl." Marko wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked toward Jessica. "David was right about you."

David. The mere thought of him sent a tremor tripping through my core.

I glanced at Marko out of the corner of my eye. "What did he say?"

Marko's grin only intensified; his eyes cool yet filled with humor. "It's a secret," he breathed against my ear.

"I'll bet," I replied with sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

He responded by stifling a laugh with the knuckles of his free hand.

Jessica Whiteside was an attractive thirty-nine year old woman bearing a passing resemblance to Jessica Chastain. Cropped copper curls gave her a saucy appearance that turned a man's head. She possessed deep brown eyes the color of fine chocolate with a stunning intellect floating in those dark depths. While she normally favored clothes from Ann Taylor Loft, tonight she picked a pair of boot-cut indigo jeans topped off with a lacy, form-fitting shirt the color of Cabernet wine. Hammered silver hoop earrings sparkled at her ears in the pale light and I grinned at the tips of black velvet boots peeking from beneath the hem of her jeans.

She looked infinitely more suited to California than I did.

Marko was expressionless as we climbed the stairs and stopped in front of Jessica.

"You look so…" Jessica was staring at me with wide eyes as though seeing someone she didn't expect. "I guess different from the last time we saw each other."

The strong connection we always shared was in tatters. I felt as much and from the crestfallen expression on her face, Jessica did too. Despite standing three feet apart, I had the sensation of being a million miles away.

I forced a smile to my face. "Different as in good or different as in bad?"

She blushed crimson. "Good of course! I guess I expected you wouldn't have such a healthy appearance with the leukemia." Her eyes kept flashing to Marko. "I'm really glad to see you again."

"Me too," I lied. Guilt was drowning me and I needed a distraction so I seized on the nearest one available. "This is Marko Smith." He gave her a respectful nod. "Marko, this is Jessica Whiteside."

A pleasant smile bloomed on his mouth but it never materialized in his eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Jessica."

"Likewise," Jessica murmured as she looked from me to Marko and back again.

The sensation of being sized up was obvious to me and I was certain Marko felt it.

I kissed Marko quickly and stepped away. "I wanted to take Jess out for dinner. Can I call you later?"

"No problem," Marko murmured. "David and I need to get some work done at the shop." He retreated into the shadows leaving me alone with Jessica. The moment I heard his motorcycle start and peel away my heart sank like a stone tossed into the ocean waves.

Jessica reached out and took me by the chin; she was firm in turning my face back to hers. Concern mingled with discomfort left her features unsettled. "What's wrong with you?"

I shook her off and stepped back so she couldn't touch me. "Nothing is wrong, Jess. I feel better than I have in months. The doctor said my leukemia is in remission. Life is good."

"Your skin feels like you just came in from an afternoon of skiing," Jessica's voice filled with frustration. "I never hear from you anymore and when I come to town it's like you turned into a person I don't even know. And what is up with the weirdo?"

Anger percolated in my gut. "Marko is a good guy."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Grace – he was looking at me like I was a juicy steak."

The blood boiled in my veins. "Look, Marko has his own way of communicating. Trust me when I tell you he isn't about to hit on you, Jess."

Jessica's blush turned purple in hue. "That's not what I'm saying!"

"What are you trying to say?" I snapped.

She threw up her hands. "Your boyfriend had a very predatory look on his face. He made me feel like I was a burger just off the grill and he was ready to devour me. There was nothing sexual about it."

I held up a hand as I backed away down the steps. "Horseshit!" I cursed with such vehemence Jessica went still with shock. "Marko is wonderful. He's never been violent in my presence. Why don't you take your jealous ass back to Denver? I don't need you bringing me down."

The moment those words escaped my mouth in a hiss, Jessica gasped.

Turning on my heel, I made a dash for the road.

Jessica was in hot pursuit – I could hear the heels of her boots tapping against the asphalt of the B&B's parking lot.

I forced my limbs to pump and move like they never had before. Shooting across the street, I barely avoided being hit by two passing cars. The sound of horns blasting and Jessica screaming my name faded into the distance as I turned onto a nameless street.

The sound of my breathing thundered in my ears as I slowly came to a stop.

No one was behind me.

Relief pounded over me like a tidal wave crashing into a beach.

Wiping the sweat from my face, I turned and walked away as quickly as my throbbing legs allowed.

I wandered Santa Carla over the next few hours aimlessly.

People passed me and slowly I came to the startling realization I could smell every person I passed. I'm not talking perfume and cologne… I mean skin. The scent was like nothing I've experienced before: warm, inviting, intimate. More disturbing was the fact my mouth watered and my stomach gurgled.

Covering my mouth and nose with one hand, I hurried through the crowd.

My feet lead me home.

I closed the door behind me and sagged against it.

Wiping my hands over my face, I released a sigh before heading to my bedroom. My purse was launched across the room with rage. I pulled the phone from my pocket and frowned.

Thirteen missed calls from Jessica. Thirteen!

I ignored them and dialed Marko's number.

He picked up on the second ring. "How's it going, babe?"

"Miserable," I sank down on the bed. "Jessica and I had a massive fight. I feel like I'm a twelve year old and not a grown ass woman."

"Are you okay?" Concern filled his voice.

"Fine," I retorted softly. "Thanks for asking. Can we meet up tomorrow night? I just want to relax and kick back tonight."

Marko's voice sounded strained. "Yeah, no problem. Give me a call tomorrow night. Get some rest, Grace."

"Thanks," I whispered before hanging up.

After a quick, delightfully hot shower, I shrugged into a soft, old t-shirt before climbing into bed. I reached over and clicked on the radio before relaxing against my pillow.

Melodic strains of U2's 'A Day Without Me' drifted from the speakers.

A crinkle sound from beneath the pillow caught my attention. I reached underneath and came out with the campy comic: Vampires Everywhere!

"Oh what the hell," I whispered before thumbing through the pages.

Comics had never been my thing. That being said, I flipped through at a lightning fast pace. All I learned was a bunch of garbage about head vampires being bad ass, vampires can be killed by stakes, too much holy water, and sunlight which I gathered watching vampire movies from the '50's and '60's.

Bored and tired, I shoved the comic under my bed.

The sun was rising – little tendrils of rosy-gold light caressed my window almost lovingly.

My eyes grew heavier and heavier until I closed them with reluctance.

The pounding on my door woke me long before I wanted and needed to wake.

Groggy and disoriented, I groaned in disbelief as I peered at the clock.

Four p.m.

I crawled out of bed with a particularly inventive metaphor before searching through my purse desperately. My fingers curled around the pair of cheap plastic sunglasses I stashed there. The pain in my eyes flitted away as I stumbled down the hall toward the front door.

The pounding continued unabated.

"I'm coming!" I screamed.

The racket ceased just as I made it to the door.

My fingers caressed my temple in clever little circles. I frowned and pulled open the door.

Detective Hernandez loomed over me. His suit was wrinkled and his eyes bloodshot. He hadn't shaved in days and smelled like he hadn't bathed in about as long. "We need to talk."

The reek of alcohol took me aback. "I thought police officers are prohibited from drinking on the job."

He gave a derisive snort. "I lost my job thanks to your boyfriend." His breath wafted over me stinking of unwashed teeth and rum. "Now we are going to talk about Tiffany Jackson and what Marko Smith knows."

My stomach clenched.

Tiffany Jackson was Marko's former flame. She had been murdered.

"I think you should leave."

The blow caught me off guard.

Sharp pain erupted in the side of my head. The sunglasses exploded into three pieces sent skittering across the floor. The sun blinded me instantly. I threw up my hands and limped toward the door.

Strong arms closed around me and yanked me inside.

A scream escaped my throat as Hernandez tossed me on the floor. Pain exploded in my right side as I bounced with the massive force of impact.

Hernandez kicked the door shut. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "You're going to call Mr. Smith and get his sorry ass over here."

Blood dripped from my mouth. Burning agony settled in the region of ribs. "I can't," I gasped.

He stared me down. "Why?"

"Marko works nights," I ground out. "But you know as much. He's asleep and Marko shuts his phone off when he's sleeping."

Hernandez seized me by the throat and squeezed – just a little. "Leave him a message."

I took the phone in shaking hands and dialed.

Marko's voicemail picked up. 'You reached Marko Smith. I'm busy so leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can. Later.'

My pulse quickened. "Marko, it's me, Grace. Can you come over right away? I need to talk to you."

Hernandez snatched the phone and thumbed it off before shoving it in his pocket. "Good."

"I think you broke my ribs."

The man gave me a half-shrug and sat on the sofa. He crossed one leg over the other. "Once I deal with Mr. Smith I'll call an ambulance." Without further ado, Hernandez pulled a semi-automatic pistol from his jacket.

Blinking heavily, I sank back against the floor as unconsciousness crept over me.

Darkness had fallen. I blinked and swam back to reality.

I wasn't in the living room anymore. Hernandez had stuffed me into the bathroom.

Being locked in a windowless room wasn't the worst part. No, not by a long shot.

Finding myself staring down at the bathroom floor was the worst part of the entire affair. My back was rubbing against the ceiling. I felt weightless… almost as though I could float away on a breeze just like a damn balloon. I remember the same sensation on the Ferris wheel with Marko . However this was feeling was amplified a thousand fold.

Terror filled me and I screamed long and loud.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. The door jerked open and the lights flicked on momentarily blinding me.

Hernandez filled the bathroom door; gun in hand. His eyes went comically wide as he drank in my form hovering against the ceiling. He crossed himself before pointing the gun at me. "What the hell are you?"

"Help me get down." I struggled in vain against the strong sense of being feather light.

He shook his head. "No way. I don't know what the fuck is going on here…"

I stared as a pair of hands emerged from the dark of the hallway behind Hernandez.

A male shriek echoed through the room as those seemingly disembodied hands seized Hernandez. The man was unceremoniously yanked left toward the living room. He disappeared from view and horrific screams rang out followed swiftly by a strange low-pitched growling sound.

Sick, wet ripping sounds issued from the other room before the heavy stench of blood filled my nose.

Everything went silent.

The only sound was my heavy panting and the thumping of my heart.

A human-size shadow appeared just outside of the door.

I whimpered and struggled against the invisible power keeping me pinned in place.

The figure stepped into the light.

David.

My mouth went dry as panic welled inside me. "What is this?"

He smirked and moved closer. Under the bright fluorescence of the lights blood spatter across his left cheek and in his carefully spiked platinum hair became unmistakable. "You seem to be in a pickle, Grace. All riled up and no place to go." He released a deep, disturbing laugh. "Need a hand?"

I stared at the blood-stained appendage. "Don't touch me."

David grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked. "You're being rather immature." He held me against him and let his eyes drift over me almost casually. Those arctic orbs narrowed as they took in my wince of pain. "Let's go."

I sagged against him and buried my face against his chest. There was something comforting about being held by him and surrounded by his scent. I felt like I was in the protective embrace of my father.

David strode into the living room.

A scream danced on the tip of my tongue, I swallowed it whole.

Bloody chunks of what used to be Detective Hernandez were strewn from one end of the room to the other. Spatter covered the walls, ceiling, and furniture. Bloody boot prints decorated the floor.

In ripped, blood-coated clothes Marko and Dwayne stood before us.

David laughed. "Well gentlemen, I suspect the jig is up." He looked down at me and I screamed. His eyes burned amber yellow and red. "We aren't hiding from you any longer, Grace."

Marko's face was demonic in his rage; his eyes shining the same colors as David's. "How bad is she hurt?"

"Nothing blood and rest won't cure," he assured. "I'm bringing her home. Take care of the mess and join us."

Unable to bear the horror a moment more, my bladder voided.

Marko's eyebrows shot up even as his face gentled and his eyes returned to their normal hue. "Whoa…"

Dwayne turned away and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.

David glanced down at his now wet pants and the puddle in which he stood. "Lovely," he muttered before staring intently at me. "Time to sleep now, Grace."

"No," I begged.

He sighed. "Yes. You're injured and I don't have time to screw around."

The compulsion was on me and I obeyed.

Thanks to: LostInSantaCarla3, Guest, FlowerChild23, Ernesto, J. Berry Smith, Chantal, Erzsebeth Bathory, Guest, Liz, Beth, TishaLiz, xXx Tinkies xXx. I appreciate you all taking the time to review and let me know what you think.