I own Anya. Nothing else. Reviewers: I feel so thankful to have you all. I'll add you to my Thanksgiving list. And as always, the freedom of speech is highly enforced.

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I woke up alone, instantly sitting up from the excess of information that was running through my brain. Eric was nowhere to be found. Go figure.

Probably using his time to suck up some more to the King. Hopefully he didn't take that literally.

Urgh...stupid vampire was corrupting my mind already.

Anyways...

Loka, I mused as I slowly stretched my arms above my head, so that was her name. The demoness. The doppelganger.

My ancestor.

I wonder if all she said was true. I mean, I'm really part demon? Really? Really? Insert raised eyebrow.

I'm still skeptical. So what, I can sprout dagger-like teeth and red eyes in a blink; maybe I'm part albino shark?

Okay. Stupid, I know. But... I dunno.

Being a predator is weird. Thankfully, for me, it comes and goes.

Speaking of coming... I smelled something sweet in the air, edged with a slight bitter tang. I couldn't place it; it was like...mangoes?

Zamboomafu!

Entranced by this new scent, I lifted my nose in the air and crawled out of the luxurious bed, sliding down the sheets. I absently put on my shoes commenced with my tracking. It led me [obviously] to the door.

Mmmmm, I like these mangoes.

I opened the silver-lined door with ease [take that, vamps!], and headed down the long hallway, turning at the appropriate corridors where the mango-scent was strongest. I felt like a drunk opposum. Isn't that an image?

Yet all I could think was of mangoes. And where said mangoes were coming from. A magical mango grove of marsupials?

It was stronger than ever now. I reached a familiar doorway and entered. The fancy schmancy dining room. Seems like just last night.

Only except this time, none of the former occupants were in it. This time there was a rangy, druggie-looking black-haired vampire complete with...

Tara.

TARA? What the heck was Tara doing in the King of Mississippi's house tied up by an insane-not-even-attractive-looking vampire? And in an attrocious white nightgown, no less.

"Tara?" I blinked, allowing myself to come into full view. The smell of mangoes permeated everywhere, but it seemed to come from her particularly.

"Anya?" Her head and black braids whipped around to face me from her fixed, tied down position, "W-what are you doin' here?"

Well, that was a hard question to answer.

"I would ask her the same question, love," a smooth British voice rang out, "Humans aren't meant to roam about unattended." Oh. It was the abductor vamp. Guess that's what she found attractive about him.

"Consider me exempt," I sneered back at his arrogant face, "Now what the hell are you doing to my friend, you prat?"

Yeah, that's right. Use British slang on the Brit. Hopefully, I used it correctly.

Tara quivered in her seat, "A-anya, don't." That silly mango smell came in pungent waves from her. Made my mouth water.

"Let me take care of this, love." Prat vampire stroked Tara's hair in a psychopathic way while she flinched away from his touch. Somebody can't read signs.

The room was flooded with the sweet-bitter scent. Could no one else smell this? Was my nose malfunctioning?

I scowled, "Don't touch her!"

"She's mine!" he roared, zipping across the room to pin me against the hard door, "She belongs to me! Only ME!"

I grit my teeth as he pushed me into the wooden door even more. Maybe my ribs would break in a couple minutes. Maybe less. His hands were just digging into me, bruising. My body felt as if a a large bus were running it into a wall. Not good.

"Screw you," I gasped, wishing more than ever that my demon aspects would come into play now, "She's MY friend!"

Tara was screaming in the background, hoping to get someone's attention. Didn't work.

Still smelled like mangoes. Guess that'd be the last thing I remember before my death. Mangoes.

"She. Is. Mine!" British vamp spit-scream accentedly in my face. His eyes were wild, and his hair was just jacked up. He was a complete mess. Looked like a serial killer.

Guess my killer wouldn't tarnish his reputation by ending me. Probably would just strengthen it anyways.

The intense pressure and smooshing suddenly disappeared in a flash.

"And she is mine," an enraged Eric snarled, pinning Mr. Possessive to a floral wallpapered wall by his throat, "So I suggest you watch which humans you touch."

Well, that was an entrance, Mr. Viking. He actually looked really scary right now, with his fangs bared and eyebrows majorly furrowed. His eyes themselves were laser beams.

"She was-" started the assaulted druggie vamp, but was cut off.

"Get out of my sight. Now." Cue the death Scandinavian glare. That's how they do it in the north. Holla.

Druggie was released, and immediately snatched up Tara and ran for his life. The last look on her face that I saw resembled a Holocaust victim's. Scared as hell.

Mangoes...

"TARA!" I screamed, trying to dash after them, "TARA!"

Restraining arms held me back as I struggled against them, still screaming, "TARAAA!"

A long finger was held to my lips, silencing me.

"Now is not the time for this," Eric muttered in my ear, "You're making a scene."

I yanked myself away from him, "Then when is it time for this? When she gets raped? When he kills her? She's my friend, dangit!" I made to follow Tara's trail again.

"And when will you not understand the bigger picture?" he growled, once again pulling me close, "We did not come to the King of Mississippi's house to make social calls or rescues. We came to find a way from out of the Magister, end of story."

"And to save Pam, right?" I simpered, almost snarling myself, "Well, hello! That's exactly what I'm trying to do too! Saving a friend!"

"You have no earthly idea of the bond Pam and I share," the Viking's eyes flashed dangerously, "It goes beyond any mortal attachment that you have with your 'friend.'"

"Don't talk down to me!"

"Then don't act like a child! Your friend has made her choices, and she is living with the consequences. Welcome to the world."

"That doesn't mean-"

"We don't have time for this," he snapped, holding my shoulders quite tightly, "Do you not remember what I told you in the car?"

I remained silent, glaring and fuming at the same time. Nope, definately don't remember.

"You agreed to be a good little human and trust my judgment," he said with hard eyes, "Do you know what would happen if you went storming after your friend just now?"

I kept up my glare, not speaking. No comment.

"Russell f**king Edgington," he curled his lip, "The King would have found out that one of his subjects was attacked by my human, thereby putting suspicion on us and our expedition."

"So, what? We get thrown out, no big."

"In addition," Eric glared at my flippancy, "He would most likely discover your demonic nature due to your loss of temper, making you a prime target for his experimentations. You would become a pet to him, forever under his rule."

"Oh." I frowned, not finding any win-win situation here.

"Your friend will have to save herself, because we certainly cannot risk it. Odds are she will attack him in the daylight hours and run for it."

My eyes cast downward, wanting some insane rescue plot to come out of nowhere. It didn't. This was the real world, not some fairytale story.

Life sucked here. Tara would have to deal. It was the hard truth I wasn't willing to admit.

"Sparrow," Eskimo breathed, tipping my face up with a lean finger, "Trust me."

I silently nodded my head, reality setting in. God, life really did suck.

"Now breathe," he said, brushing a strand of dark hair from my face.

"What?"

"Take a deep breath."

I gave him a weird look, but complied. Had to show I trusted him, I guess.

In...out. I felt slightly better.

"Good," he tilted my head a little with his fingers, examining my face for some sort of sign, "Your eyes were maroon for the last few minutes."

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands, "It never ends."

Eric quietly removed all obstructions to my face, and placed a slow kiss on my forehead.

It was then that I realized what the smell of mangoes meant, that sweet bitterness.

It had come from Tara. Tara was scared.

Loka had said that demons feed off of emotions...

Fear.

That's what I had thought was so tasty.

That's what those mangoes were.