"You forgot this," Damon said to the beautiful, dark-haired woman. She stared at him in disbelief. Neither one seemed to notice that it was still storming.
"What?" she asked, then remembered where she was and what just happened. "Oh, thank you."
"It wasn't a problem," Damon told her, smiling. "Montoya, right?"
"Yeah, um..."
Damon laughed. She seemed to have forgotten his name already. "Damon. Damon Thatcher." He handed Montoya her purse. She took it, and then shook his hand.
"Montoya Selina Juarez," she introduced herself. "My friends call me Monty."
Damon smiled again. "I like Montoya, if you don't mind. Monty sounds to...manly." He laughed out loud.
Montoya finally realized that the rain was still falling. "Oh god," she said. "I am so sorry. Please, come in." She turned and found the right key to unlock the door. She opened it up and motioned for Damon to enter. "Please, it's the least I can do."
Damon said "Sure, why not?" and walked into the lobby of Montoya's apartment building. She led him up the stairs to her apartment. She told him to wait in her kitchen while she went into the bathroom to get some towels.
"Some night, huh?" Damon asked, looking around at the spacious kitchen. Jeez, I haven't seen an apartment this big in, well, ever.
"Tell me about it," Montoya answered as she entered the kitchen. She had changed into dryer clothes and was drying her hair with a towel. She handed another towel to Damon and then offered him a cup of coffee.
"No thanks," he replied. "I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help but notice that you seem a different person now then when we first met. Is there something wrong?"
Montoya shook her head. "It's hard to explain, but believe me, I'm fine. Can I ask you something, now?"
"Sure thing."
"Was it me or were you holding a stake earlier?"
Damon reached into his coat pocket and pulled the stake out. He was hoping she hadn't noticed it, but now it seemed that he was going to have to explain it all to her. "Yes," he finally said.
"A stake. As in, to kill vampires?"
Damon touched his nose with the tip of his finger. "That would be correct."
"Well, now. That certainly explains a lot." She finished drying her hair and set the towel on the kitchen table. She sat down and offered Damon the chair across the table from her. He took it.
"So, Mr. Thatcher," she started.
"Damon," he corrected.
"Damon." She paused for a moment. "Where are you from?"
"Virginia."
"Wow. That's quite the way from Cleveland. What brings you here, if I may ask?"
Damon nodded his head. "Business, of a sort. I am trying to find my brother."
Montoya watched every movement of this handsome man. She couldn't remember the last time she had a man in her apartment, but she wasn't about to argue. This man saved her life. True, she wasn't sure how she felt about being saved from a vampire, a fictional monster, but that didn't mean she didn't believe him.
"So have you had any luck finding your brother?" she asked Damon.
"None so far," he answered. "But, then, I've only been in town for a few hours. To be honest, I only stopped in that shop to get out of the storm for a few minutes."
Montoya ran her hands through her short, black hair. Why did I get this cut? She thought. "Well, I'm not about to throw my knight back out in the storm. If you like, you can sleep on my couch."
Damon smiled. What was it about his smile that was so...warm? Did she like him? Either way, she felt that she could trust him. "I would be honored to sleep on your couch," he teased. "Actually, I am pretty tired, so it's definitely appreciated."
"I'll go get some blankets." Montoya left him and walked down the hall to the linen closet. She pulled some warm blankets out and a couple of pillows.
Why don't you let him sleep in your bed?
It's not like that.
Yes, it is.
Montoya could feel "The Pull" coming in strong. It wanted her to sleep with Damon. Not that it wasn't tempting, he was very attractive, and she could only imagine the body under that big coat. But it just didn't fell "right."
"Need a hand?" Damon's voice startled her. She closed the door to the closet and handed him the pillows.
"I got it. Thank-you, though."
"Anything to help my host."
Anything?
No!
Montoya felt uneasy under his smile, but still managed to offer a small one back. Something about Damon made her feel stronger, gave her the strength to resist "The Pull." She wished him pleasant dreams, then went into her bedroom and closed the door. There she stood, with her back against the door, breathing heavy. "The Pull" was working overtime, but yet it wasn't strong enough to force her to go out there and throw herself at him.
But, God, she was horny!
Why me? She thought.
Because it's who you are.
Why am I like this?
Because you need to be.
But why?
That was the question that kept her awake at night.
Damon awoke jumping off the couch. If anyone had seen him they would have been amazed at his speed and agility in the maneuver. Something felt very wrong. There was an almost chill in the room. And he could almost swear the fear was so thick it almost had a physical form.
I know this feeling. He is near.
Damon walked over to the window and looked out. The rain had stopped. The street glistened in the streetlight's glow. He didn't know the exact time, but he was sure morning was right around the corner. After assuring himself that there wasn't anyone on the streets, Damon turned from the window. Instantly, he froze. Sitting in a chair in front of him was the only thing he had ever feared.
"Hello, Damon," the man said. He sat in the shadows, not that it mattered. Damon knew that this man was always in shadows.
Damon instinctively reached for his coat pocket, forgetting that it was draped over one of the kitchen chairs. "Hey."
"Why did you follow me?"
"I didn't. I came for my brother."
"But he is mine."
"Not while I breathe, he isn't."
The man laughed. "Don't be trite with me, Damon. You know that I can kill you before you can even think of what to do next. Or maybe I should start with that lovely girl down the hall?"
Damon gritted his teeth. "She has nothing to do with this. Like you said, you came for my brother."
"She interests me. Her mind is fragmented. It's like reading a book written in a language you don't understand." The man stood and turned towards Montoya's bedroom. Damon made a step towards him, but was sent crashing through the window he was standing in front of. He managed to grab the curtain, but that didn't do much more than momentarily break his fall. Damon hit the sidewalk outside Montoya's apartment hard.
"The Pull" came in stronger than ever, causing Montoya to jump out of bed and open her window. She was halfway out when the door to her bedroom crashed open with such force that the door frame splintered. She screamed from the sudden fright, and then froze in terror when she saw the shadowy man step into her room.
"Montoya," he said. "Where do you think you are going?"
Montoya wasted no time regaining her composure. She climbed down the fire escape into the alley. She looked up towards her bedroom window a moment before turning to run into the street.
The man was right in front of her.
"Montoya," he said. "You don't think you can get away from me, do you? Not with all the fun we are about to have."
Montoya was so scared she started to cry. She couldn't explain it. The fear was just so intense. "Who are you?" she asked. "What do you want from me?"
If she didn't know better she would swear that he was smiling. "You interest me, Montoya. I wish to study you."
Montoya knew that she was going to die at the hands of this man, no, creature. What could she possibly do to defend herself? Just then Montoya heard a hissing sound and a burst of bright light broke through the center of the shadowy man before her. The man evaporated and reformed behind Montoya. Standing in front of her was Damon, holding a flare in one hand. His other arm hung limp, close to his body. She hoped it wasn't broken.
"Run, girl!" Damon yelled. "Run!"
The two wasted no time in running from the shadowy man. They ran for what felt like hours until they came to a deli that was serving several people. They made their way through the early morning patrons until they found an empty table in the back. Montoya's fear had died down some, but she was still scared. "Who was that?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.
Damon just looked at her, his eyes wide. This wasn't a look she ever thought she would see on his face. Finally, he spoke. "Fear," he answered. "Pure, unadulterated fear."
"What?" she asked, then remembered where she was and what just happened. "Oh, thank you."
"It wasn't a problem," Damon told her, smiling. "Montoya, right?"
"Yeah, um..."
Damon laughed. She seemed to have forgotten his name already. "Damon. Damon Thatcher." He handed Montoya her purse. She took it, and then shook his hand.
"Montoya Selina Juarez," she introduced herself. "My friends call me Monty."
Damon smiled again. "I like Montoya, if you don't mind. Monty sounds to...manly." He laughed out loud.
Montoya finally realized that the rain was still falling. "Oh god," she said. "I am so sorry. Please, come in." She turned and found the right key to unlock the door. She opened it up and motioned for Damon to enter. "Please, it's the least I can do."
Damon said "Sure, why not?" and walked into the lobby of Montoya's apartment building. She led him up the stairs to her apartment. She told him to wait in her kitchen while she went into the bathroom to get some towels.
"Some night, huh?" Damon asked, looking around at the spacious kitchen. Jeez, I haven't seen an apartment this big in, well, ever.
"Tell me about it," Montoya answered as she entered the kitchen. She had changed into dryer clothes and was drying her hair with a towel. She handed another towel to Damon and then offered him a cup of coffee.
"No thanks," he replied. "I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help but notice that you seem a different person now then when we first met. Is there something wrong?"
Montoya shook her head. "It's hard to explain, but believe me, I'm fine. Can I ask you something, now?"
"Sure thing."
"Was it me or were you holding a stake earlier?"
Damon reached into his coat pocket and pulled the stake out. He was hoping she hadn't noticed it, but now it seemed that he was going to have to explain it all to her. "Yes," he finally said.
"A stake. As in, to kill vampires?"
Damon touched his nose with the tip of his finger. "That would be correct."
"Well, now. That certainly explains a lot." She finished drying her hair and set the towel on the kitchen table. She sat down and offered Damon the chair across the table from her. He took it.
"So, Mr. Thatcher," she started.
"Damon," he corrected.
"Damon." She paused for a moment. "Where are you from?"
"Virginia."
"Wow. That's quite the way from Cleveland. What brings you here, if I may ask?"
Damon nodded his head. "Business, of a sort. I am trying to find my brother."
Montoya watched every movement of this handsome man. She couldn't remember the last time she had a man in her apartment, but she wasn't about to argue. This man saved her life. True, she wasn't sure how she felt about being saved from a vampire, a fictional monster, but that didn't mean she didn't believe him.
"So have you had any luck finding your brother?" she asked Damon.
"None so far," he answered. "But, then, I've only been in town for a few hours. To be honest, I only stopped in that shop to get out of the storm for a few minutes."
Montoya ran her hands through her short, black hair. Why did I get this cut? She thought. "Well, I'm not about to throw my knight back out in the storm. If you like, you can sleep on my couch."
Damon smiled. What was it about his smile that was so...warm? Did she like him? Either way, she felt that she could trust him. "I would be honored to sleep on your couch," he teased. "Actually, I am pretty tired, so it's definitely appreciated."
"I'll go get some blankets." Montoya left him and walked down the hall to the linen closet. She pulled some warm blankets out and a couple of pillows.
Why don't you let him sleep in your bed?
It's not like that.
Yes, it is.
Montoya could feel "The Pull" coming in strong. It wanted her to sleep with Damon. Not that it wasn't tempting, he was very attractive, and she could only imagine the body under that big coat. But it just didn't fell "right."
"Need a hand?" Damon's voice startled her. She closed the door to the closet and handed him the pillows.
"I got it. Thank-you, though."
"Anything to help my host."
Anything?
No!
Montoya felt uneasy under his smile, but still managed to offer a small one back. Something about Damon made her feel stronger, gave her the strength to resist "The Pull." She wished him pleasant dreams, then went into her bedroom and closed the door. There she stood, with her back against the door, breathing heavy. "The Pull" was working overtime, but yet it wasn't strong enough to force her to go out there and throw herself at him.
But, God, she was horny!
Why me? She thought.
Because it's who you are.
Why am I like this?
Because you need to be.
But why?
That was the question that kept her awake at night.
Damon awoke jumping off the couch. If anyone had seen him they would have been amazed at his speed and agility in the maneuver. Something felt very wrong. There was an almost chill in the room. And he could almost swear the fear was so thick it almost had a physical form.
I know this feeling. He is near.
Damon walked over to the window and looked out. The rain had stopped. The street glistened in the streetlight's glow. He didn't know the exact time, but he was sure morning was right around the corner. After assuring himself that there wasn't anyone on the streets, Damon turned from the window. Instantly, he froze. Sitting in a chair in front of him was the only thing he had ever feared.
"Hello, Damon," the man said. He sat in the shadows, not that it mattered. Damon knew that this man was always in shadows.
Damon instinctively reached for his coat pocket, forgetting that it was draped over one of the kitchen chairs. "Hey."
"Why did you follow me?"
"I didn't. I came for my brother."
"But he is mine."
"Not while I breathe, he isn't."
The man laughed. "Don't be trite with me, Damon. You know that I can kill you before you can even think of what to do next. Or maybe I should start with that lovely girl down the hall?"
Damon gritted his teeth. "She has nothing to do with this. Like you said, you came for my brother."
"She interests me. Her mind is fragmented. It's like reading a book written in a language you don't understand." The man stood and turned towards Montoya's bedroom. Damon made a step towards him, but was sent crashing through the window he was standing in front of. He managed to grab the curtain, but that didn't do much more than momentarily break his fall. Damon hit the sidewalk outside Montoya's apartment hard.
"The Pull" came in stronger than ever, causing Montoya to jump out of bed and open her window. She was halfway out when the door to her bedroom crashed open with such force that the door frame splintered. She screamed from the sudden fright, and then froze in terror when she saw the shadowy man step into her room.
"Montoya," he said. "Where do you think you are going?"
Montoya wasted no time regaining her composure. She climbed down the fire escape into the alley. She looked up towards her bedroom window a moment before turning to run into the street.
The man was right in front of her.
"Montoya," he said. "You don't think you can get away from me, do you? Not with all the fun we are about to have."
Montoya was so scared she started to cry. She couldn't explain it. The fear was just so intense. "Who are you?" she asked. "What do you want from me?"
If she didn't know better she would swear that he was smiling. "You interest me, Montoya. I wish to study you."
Montoya knew that she was going to die at the hands of this man, no, creature. What could she possibly do to defend herself? Just then Montoya heard a hissing sound and a burst of bright light broke through the center of the shadowy man before her. The man evaporated and reformed behind Montoya. Standing in front of her was Damon, holding a flare in one hand. His other arm hung limp, close to his body. She hoped it wasn't broken.
"Run, girl!" Damon yelled. "Run!"
The two wasted no time in running from the shadowy man. They ran for what felt like hours until they came to a deli that was serving several people. They made their way through the early morning patrons until they found an empty table in the back. Montoya's fear had died down some, but she was still scared. "Who was that?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.
Damon just looked at her, his eyes wide. This wasn't a look she ever thought she would see on his face. Finally, he spoke. "Fear," he answered. "Pure, unadulterated fear."