9.

I didn't open my eyes immediately when I finally regained consciousness. The pain had subsided, but there was still this dull throbbing that served as a reminder of the pain. I could only hope that it didn't turn into another burning headache. I didn't know what was going on, but if someone—or something—was in my head, I wanted it out… now.

Can you hear me, Ororo?

"Yes, Jean. Why wouldn't I be able to hear you?" I answered aloud, opening my eyes. I looked around. Jean and I were alone in my room. She was sitting at my side, holding my hand tenderly. Worry lines crinkled in her forehead.

"I tried to probe your mind to see if you were being attacked psychically when you blacked out, and I couldn't. I have to confess I've been trying all day since you woke from the dream. You sent out a mental distress signal, but I wasn't able to get through. Then, when I came in your room, you told me you were fine, and you looked okay. But I couldn't shrug off that feeling…" She said.

I smiled slightly. That Jean was a real kidder. Why was I the only one smiling here? When someone made a joke, it was customary that they laugh along with you. So, why wasn't Jean laughing? "You're kidding, right?" I asked, still smiling, and Jean shook her head. My smile slowly began to evaporate. She wasn't kidding.

"It happened again during one of my classes. This time the signal was more intense – even painful. Rogue and Jubilee came to see me later and told me what happened in your class. I went to talk to the Professor, and he said he got the same signal from you. He tried to speak with you telepathically, but he was unable to," she continued, a grim expression still on her face.

"Do you know why?" I asked barely above a whisper. I didn't know if I wanted to know why they weren't able to get through. It was a disturbing thought knowing the Professor hadn't been able to get through. He's one of the most—if not the most—powerful telepaths to grace this planet. What could be so strong it even kept him out?

"Somebody has placed some pretty strong psi barriers around your mind. When you didn't act any differently, the professor and I decided that it was best if we just tried to break the barriers without your knowledge. We didn't want to alarm you." Jean chewed on her lip after that last statement.

They didn't want to alarm me. This was my head we were talking about here, but I couldn't be mad at Jean or the Professor. They were only trying to help. "Keep going." I commanded.

"They became stronger while you were out. I couldn't bypass them, and even the professor had a hard time breaking the barriers that were protecting your mind." Jean said quietly.

"Did the Professor get through?" I asked. I was afraid that he might have seen something that I didn't want him too such as the truth about what happened to Jean, but I knew it was important that he got through.

"He got through, but he couldn't make sense of what was happening to your mind. He's not sure if whatever was there is completely gone, and…" Jean trailed off, looking away from me. I could sense a sort of apprehension build in her, and my heart thumped wildly at the thought of whatever she was reluctant to tell me.

"And what?"

"The weather went haywire while you were unconscious. Whatever was happening in your mind was causing you to react through the weather. Do you remember what you were seeing?"

"No, I don't remember seeing anything." I said, shaking my head. I didn't remember seeing any images after I blacked out. Everything was just that – black. I remember seeing a wave of images before I lost consciousness, but nothing that made any sense.

One thing was for sure. I couldn't keep having too many of these headaches if they were causing me to manipulate the weather in my unconscious state. That was dangerous. I could lose control, and… well… I didn't want to think about what might happen if I did.

Now, I was trying to absorb the information that Jean was feeding me. She was confirming my fear – there was someone in my head. Wasn't that just the icing on the cake? "Did the professor say who or what he thought it was?" I asked.

"No," she responded with a defeated tone of voice. I looked into her eyes, and her fear mirrored my own. Whatever had "attacked" me could still be present, and it could be building those psi barriers back up. It was the greatest feeling in the world knowing that I had no control when it came to what happened to, and in, my mind. Insert bitter, sarcastic laugh by me here. I thought about Sakura, and I wondered if this was her doing. "But, we're not going to give up, Ororo."

Her grip on my hand tightened, and I used my free hand to cover hers. "Thank you, friend," I whispered.

"Now, tell me about these bruised knuckles," she said, inspecting my hands.

I'd forgotten all about those, but it wasn't as if I could exactly hide them while I was unconscious. I thought about telling her that I got them when the boy blew up the trashcans, but Jean was a doctor. She would be able to tell that weren't that fresh. "I got them while I was working last night." That was not a lie; I was working – technically.

"What the hell were you doing, Ororo? Fighting a bear?" Jean asked. I wondered if mentally battling thousand-year-old vampires counted in that "fighting a bear" category. Sakura wasn't a bear, but she was strong as a damn bear – stronger even.

"No, things just got a little rough last night. I'm okay." I said calmly. She would've freaked if she saw the bruises on my ribs.

They actually weren't all that bad. I was still sore, but they had faded significantly while I slept. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I have Vega to thank for that. Seems like I was thanking him for a lot these days, but at the same time, I couldn't help being angry with him for getting me in such a tight spot.

"Why didn't you let me to look at them?"

"I didn't come home until really early this morning, and I didn't want to wake you. They're not that bad, anyway." I said. I didn't want her to keep prying. Jean wasn't dumb by a long shot, and I knew soon she would start to piece things together on her own. "Could you excuse me for a little while Jean? I want to take a shower. I still smell like somebody's left over dinner."

She smiled a little and said, "Okay, you're trying to get rid of me. I can take a hint. Before I leave, I want to say this, though. I don't know what's going on with you, Ororo, but I'm your friend, and you don't have to be afraid to ask for my help."

She was already involved more than she knew. "Thank you, Jean. I know you would help me, but there is nothing wrong." I said with a reassuring tone. I could handle this on my own, or at least, I hope I could. I hated the thought of bringing in more people.

When Jean left, I retreated to the bathroom. I couldn't get out of my clothing fast enough. Lighting my candles and filling my bathtub to the rim, I let out a sigh as I submerged myself into the water. I closed my eyes, letting my head rest on edge of the tub. Nothing like a warm bath to put things in perspective. I could feel the tension leaving my shoulders. I'd waited too long for this moment; I wanted to enjoy it.

I nearly nodded off in the warm, inviting waters of the bath, and I would have willingly given myself to its call if I hadn't heard a voice calling me. "Ororo…" The voice was like a cool breeze, chilling me to my very core. I opened my eyes quickly, looking around the bathroom. He couldn't be here. It was impossible. "Ororo…" The candles actually flickered, and I sank lower in the tub as if the water was going to protect me from him.

"Vega?" I whispered looking around the bathroom. This was ridiculous; I was alone. The bathroom was completely empty – or at least, I thought it was. I was just hearing things. It had been a hectic few days. I was just suffering from stress. I hadn't yet come up with a valid reason why the candles would be flickering. I froze as the flames of each candle flickered and died, leaving the bathroom dark. Bright Lady, protect me.

The muscles in my stomach constricted painfully as two green flames appeared before me—his eyes—just like in the dream. They started to descend toward me, and I held my hands up in defense. "Please, no, you can't do this to me." I don't know exactly what it was that I was asking him not to do to me. All I knew was that it wasn't working. I could feel those liquid flames consuming me inside and out. I wanted to scream out, but I couldn't. It wasn't painful, but at the same time, I knew I didn't want this. However, I couldn't help giving in to the feelings it was producing.

"No…" I moaned as the heavenly sensations ravished my body. I could feel my eyelids closing as if someone were coaxing me to sleep. I fought to keep my eyes open, but I was fighting a losing battle. No, I could not allow this; I could now allow him to possess my body. I continued to struggle to open my eyes…

"No!" I sat up abruptly in the tub, my eyes opening. I looked around confused, touching my skin. The candles were illuminating the bathroom. There were no green flames swimming before me. I sigh relieved; I had dozed off. It was all just another one of those dreams. It hadn't felt like a dream. I could've sworn I was awake and cognizant, but apparently, I had fallen asleep in the tub. I wasted no time finishing my bath. I no longer felt safe there. Could I feel safe anywhere?

I wrapped myself in my large bathrobe once I got out the bathtub, fleeing to my room where Logan was waiting for me. "Are you feelin' alright, 'Ro?" Logan asked. He was eyeing me as if he were looking for signs that might betray that I wasn't feeling okay. I wasn't okay, but I was feeling okay right now – despite the dream.

"As right as rain," I answered, leaning against the wall. "Did they tell you what was happening?"

Logan nodded and said, "Yeah, there was a lot of technical talk about psi barriers and psychic attacks, but I took it to mean that someone decided to take up residence in your head." That's another thing you had to like about Logan. He could put methodological jargon in layman's terms. "Any idea who that someone might be?"

I shook my head, averting my eyes elsewhere. I did have an idea or two of who it might be. "I don't know." I said.

"I think you do know."

"I think you're right." I said before I could stop the words from coming. Too late to stop now. "I think one of the city's master vampires is playing mind games with me." I didn't mention whether I thought that vampire might be Sakura or Vega – maybe both. I hadn't even told him about Vega. I just couldn't bring myself to; it seemed too personal.

"You need to tell the Professor–"

"I can't tell him about this." I snapped, not really meaning to. Logan's eyebrows shot up in surprise probably at the vehemence in my voice. "I'm trying to keep as many people out of this as I can. That includes you. It's already a tough situation without endangering everyone I care about."

I was serious about that. I didn't want to bring any more people into this. I know that he wanted to help, but I could not allow him to be part of this.

"But you need to let the Professor and Jean know what they're up against," he insisted, and I shook my head. "There's more to this than you're tellin' me. You said the vampires wouldn't out you about being a mutant if you didn't tell anyone where they rested. That's an even trade. Why are they attackin' your mind? Shouldn't they be afraid that you would reveal their location? If I were a vampire that slept there, I'd be kissin' your goddamn feet instead of tryin' to drive you crazy."

"You are right, Logan. There's more than you realize at stake here, but I cannot disclose that information to you at this time." I crossed my arms for emphasis. Hopefully, I would never have to reveal that information to him.

"So, now, you're gettin' all professional on me." He huffed at me.

"I don't mean to be cold, but…" I closed my eyes, as a nauseous feeling began to overtake me, rubbing a hand across my forehead. I could see them again—the flames, his eyes—behind my closed lids. They were penetrating my very soul, warming me. I leaned against the wall, fearful that my legs might give under me. I felt a firm hand grip my elbow and lead me to the bed.

I opened my eyes slowly. A verdigris shade tinted the color of the room, and I looked at Logan fearfully, as I sat on the bed. "Your eyes, they're some freaky green color," he said, furrowing his eyebrows. No, I did not want to hear him say that. I looked away from him, closing my eyes tightly, willing it—him—away. I felt Logan cup my chin gently and turn my face back toward him. "Open your eyes, 'Ro." He said.

I opened one eye and was relieved to see that everything looked normal. I opened my other eye and stared into Logan's eyes. He was still cupping my chin. My heartbeat sped up a little from the physical proximity between us. He pulled my face close to his own, inspecting my eyes. He seemed to pause for a moment, and I wondered if it was from the signals that my body was sending out.

He continued to search my eyes for a moment, as if looking for some kind of sign. My pulse was throbbing almost painfully now as we held each other's gaze. I got this odd feeling that he might kiss me, not that I would have stopped him. "They're back to their normal color now." Logan said, pulling away from me. Disappointment washed over me, but I could have been reading his actions wrong. He looked at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked.

He let out an agitated sigh. "I would like to know what's goin' on here. Things just keep gettin' stranger."

I shrugged, trying to appear as blasé as possible. "There's nothing going on." Truthfully, I really didn't know what was going on. All I knew is that something just transpired between Vega and me, but I wasn't sure what it was.

"Nothing going on? You're skippin' around this city doing the bidding of some vampires, you fainted from some kind of psychic attack, and now, you're eyes just turned green. And you expect me to believe there's nothin' wrong?"

"I don't understand what's going on if that makes you feel any better."

"But you do know what's goin' on?" He was probing. I hated when he did that. I always felt obligated to answer.

"Somewhat," I ran a nervous hand through my damp hair. "I mean, it's all rather confusing. I'm only getting half the story myself."

"Care to fill me in."

"No. It's actually kind of personal in some regards. I'm sure it's not the type of information that I should go telling everyone about." I said, sheepishly. It just didn't seem wise to tell him that something was happening between a certain master vampire and me. I don't think Logan would quite understand the whole human servant bit. Hell, I wasn't even sure if I understood it.

"In other words, you're tellin' me to mind my own business."

"I guess you could say that's what I mean, but remember, you said those exact words not me."

"In my defense then, I think you should know that you're my friend and teammate. That makes you my business. You may not tell me what's going on, but I bet I know some people who will."

"Please, just let it be." I pleaded. "There's no need for you to get involved."

Logan just shrugged at me. Talking to him was like talking to a stonewall sometime. I had no doubt in my mind that he would make good on his threat to find out what's going on. "Nearly forgot. I got a message for you. Some guy called. He said name was Jean-Paul or somethin'," he said with a disapproving tone. "Told me to tell you thanks for the interestin' evening and that he would be by here tomorrow at sunset."

Jean-Paul was coming here. No, he couldn't come here. I would meet him at the club, at a restaurant—anywhere but here. How did he plan to get here, anyway? He told me he didn't drive, but I guess that could be easily remedied thanks to the New York cab system… or Carmen. "Did he leave a number for me contact him with?" I asked.

Logan shook his head at me. "No, but he did say wear somethin' sexy, and then hung up before I could tell him I ain't a goddamn messenger boy." Logan didn't look too pleased. I don't know if wasn't pleased with Jean-Paul or something else.

My stomach complained loudly. I hadn't eaten all day. "I could go for a cheese pizza, right now." I said, chewing on the inside of my cheek, changing the subject before Logan could start again with his questions. I was more content with him thinking that Jean-Paul was a prospective love interest rather than a crucial player in my case.

"But you don't eat pizza." Logan reminded me. I wasn't much of a pizza fan. The tomato sauce usually didn't settle well with my stomach, and that was that minor grievance I had with the taste. But for some reason, I wanted it – desperately.

"I know, but I'm suddenly having this craving for pizza with loads of cheese." I said, wistfully. I also had this weird craving for something meaty (if that makes sense), but that's peculiar. I don't eat meat, and I didn't plan to start because of some bizarre cravings. "I'm going to get dressed. I'll be downstairs shortly."

I dressed slowly, thinking about Jean-Paul and extra gooey cheese pizzas while I pulled on my clothes. I decided to myself that I needed something stronger than my handguns. If I was going into a den full of vampires, you'd better believe that I wanted something that would protect me. Choices in weapons were limited for a hunter when you weren't of the Christian persuasion. A cross or holy water would be nice to have in some cases, but I didn't mind settling for a gun.

I was going to need more than just my guns for this though, and I knew one person who I could get some impressive artillery from. I tugged on a sweatshirt and jeans and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, walking into the hallway. I picked up a phone resting on a stand in the hallway, looking around to make sure no one—particularly Logan—was lurking around. I was really going to have to invest in a cell phone or my own line. I really hadn't had a need for either one until recently.

I dialed the number to Phil's quickly. It rang twice and then, Cecilia picked up. "Phil's Place," she snapped into the phone.

"Cee, it's me, Ororo." I said quietly, still afraid that someone might be lurking around. I covered my mouth and the mouthpiece of the phone with my hand. I knew that wouldn't work if Logan was around somewhere, but it would keep other possible listeners from listening. "Is Phil around, now? I really need to speak to him."

"Yeah, girl, hold on one sec," I heard her move the phone. "Yo! Phil! You got a phone call! It's important!" I heard her yell. Then, there was a brief pause and then the sound of muffled voices.

"This is Phil," the male voice said.

"Phil, it's me, Ororo. I need a favor if you can do it." I said, dropping my voice another octave. I knew he could hear me. He was a vampire after all.

"Keep talkin'." Phil said.

"I need a shotgun, preferably a sawed-off shot gun. One that I could easily conceal under a large jacket if I had to. You got one of those lying around?" I asked. Not only was Phil the person to get information from, he was also the man to get weapons from. I used to joke that he had a small arsenal hidden somewhere. I didn't think that was far from the truth.

"That's a big gun for such a small lady," he joked. "But then again, I guess if anyone could handle a shotgun, it would be you. You really need to find a new profession, Ororo. It's a little unsettling giving a beautiful lady such a deadly weapon."

That was Phil for you. He was always telling me how I needed to focus my attention on the school. In his words, I should just let the weirdoes raise the dead and kill the vampires. He didn't know that being part of the X-Men was a no safer than being an animator or a vampire hunter. I just had to deal with a scarier bunch being a hunter. "One of these days, Phil, I might take your advice, but tonight, I really need to know if you have a shotgun."

He was quiet for a couple of minutes. "You know I can't say no to you. Meet me behind the bar in an hour."

"Thanks, Phil. I owe you." I said. I hung up the phone and stood there for just a second. My stomach growled, loudly, reminding me of that it still needed to be fed. I couldn't believe I wanted pizza, of all things, but I found myself dialing the number of a local pizza place and requesting a large, hand tossed cheese pizza with extra cheese – heavy on the tomato sauce. Yuck. I needed to pick up something sexy to wear while I was out. Going out on a school night. I was turning into a real rebel. I rolled my eyes and went in search of my keys.

I met Phil behind his bar in promptly an hour. Phil was in his mid-forties, but he looked younger. It might have been the whole vampire thing. The temples of his hair were just starting to turn silver when he was turned. He was only an inch or so taller than myself, but he was equipped with the build of a college linebacker. He had stern hazel eyes and aquiline features that intimidated people. What most people didn't know was that Phil was actually a warmhearted person.

He gave me the gun, telling me to find an empty field or something and practice. Then, we exchanged friendly repartee. He told me, once again, that one of these days my work was going to catch up with me. He was probably right. In fact, it was probably catching up with me right now. I was probably going to be killed by some psychotic, childlike vampire – just for the hell of it. That was a positive way of looking at things.

Next, I went to a boutique and picked the first thing that caught my eye that was in my size and seemed "sexy". I didn't try it on, and I barely looked at it. All I knew was that it was a pant set with a lightning design. It would have to do. Lastly, I picked up my pizza. The smell was heavenly, yet repugnant at the same time. It made my stomach churn hungrily while causing a sense of nausea to course through me. I didn't understand this.

When I arrived back at the mansion, I sat at the kitchen table, devouring slice after slice of that disgusting pizza. The taste sent the same feelings through me as the smell had. Half of me seemed to revel in the taste, delighting in the cheese and the sauce -- it was bliss. However, another part of me was disgusted at what I was eating, sickened at the taste. I didn't want it, yet I couldn't stop eating it. It was as if I had no control over my own actions. I warred within myself.

"Ororo? Are you okay?" I heard Scott ask at the entrance of the kitchen. I couldn't see his eyes behind his glasses, but I knew he was studying me with that hawk-like stare. Sometimes, I really wish I could see Scott's eyes.

"Yes, I'm okay." I said through bites of pizza. The half that wanted the pizza won. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're eating pizza for one thing," he answered, walking into the kitchen. He opened the door of the refrigerator, reaching for a soda. Shutting the door, he turned toward me. "You never eat pizza. I believe you said it tasted like cardboard with imitation mush on it, and I told you that you were the only person in America who didn't like it. Something must really be bugging you for you to be eating it."

I smiled, slightly, remembering the conversation. He sat down in a chair across the small table from me. "You're right. Something is bothering me, but I'd rather not discuss it. Right now, I want to concentrate on getting as much of this down as I can. Want a slice?" Scott helped himself to a slice of pizza. I bit back a moan as my head threatened to throb again. I'm sure none of this was going unnoticed by Scott.

"Hey, you two!" Another voice called – Jean. She waltzed over to the table, plopping in a chair beside Scott. She took a bite of Scott's pizza. "You look a little sick, Ororo." Concern crept into her voice.

"Look at what I've been eating," I said, waving my hand at the pizza. "A craving hit me, and I wanted pizza." I knew it wasn't the pizza that was affecting me. I looked into her eyes, and she gasped.

"Are you wearing contacts?" She asked, leaning across the table. I shook my head, and she looked worried. "Your eyes are the same color as that guy at the club, Vega."

I pulled away from her as if burned when she said this. No, that could be right. Wasn't the world supposed to turn green when my eyes changed color – when he invaded? "I think the lights are just playing tricks on your eyes, Jean." I said, closing my eyes. Please, go away. I said silently. I opened my eyes again, looking at Jean.

She stared into my eyes bewildered for a moment. "Maybe, you're right." She said with a chuckle. However, I could tell from her tone that she wasn't convinced it had been a trick of the light.

I wanted to get away. I stood, stretching a little. "I'm feeling a little tired you guys. I didn't get much sleep. I think I'm about to call it a night." I fled from the kitchen, standing beside the kitchen door.

"Scott, I know I'm not going crazy. Her eyes were the most hypnotic shade of green." I heard Jean say, as I stood by the door. Jean was far from crazy. She had seen my eyes change colors.

"Maybe, you're a little tired as well. How about we go upstairs, and I tuck you in."

"Scott!" Jean sounded surprised, and then I heard her giggle. "That might not be a bad idea."

I quickly retreated to my room before the lovely couple could catch me eavesdropping. I dressed for bed, letting the fatigue overtake my body. I'm surprised that I lasted this long on so little sleep – being unconscious didn't count as sleep. I crawled between the covers, letting my eyes droop as my head rested against the soft pillow, making way for the dreams of him…

I opened my eyes and stretched in the large, mahogany bed. I ran my fingers along the dark wood of the bed and then across the elegant silk sheets that shone a beautiful, blood red. I smiled and inhaled deeply. The smell of honey, cinnamon, and roses permeated the room. Most people might decide that was an odd combination of smells, but to me it was heavenly. I inhaled again and buried my face in the plush, feather pillow that was lying beside me and let out an approving sigh.

I looked around the room, memorizing my surroundings. The room was big but sparsely furnished. Besides the bed, there was only an armoire fashioned from the same wood as the bed, and in a far corner of the room, there was a brass vanity table. I didn't know where I was, but at the same time, I felt as if I did know where I was. I knew I was expecting someone. I was expecting him – Vega. I suddenly felt the need to make myself desirable for him.

I stood from the bed, walking slowly over to the vanity. In the mirror, I could see that I was wearing a long, silk gown that was colored the same red as the sheets. Sanguine, I think the color was called. Vermillion might be a better term for it. There were two slits on either side of the gown that stopped about mid-thigh. It reminded me of the seductive gowns I had often seen in Victoria's Secret but was never brave enough to buy – not that I had anyone to wear it for, anyway. I touched the soft silk of the gown, letting the soft material slip from my fingers.

I sat at the vanity, examining the goods that sat before me. There were perfumes, powders, lotions, and brushes. I immediately picked up a brush and began to pull it through my white locks. I studied my reflection in the mirror. My lips were slightly parted, and my eyes shined brightly with anticipation, but anticipation for what?

I heard the door open and my breath caught in my throat. I gripped the brush tightly, my fingers throbbing from the applied pressure. A wave of trepidation and expectation washed over me, and I debated with myself whether I should turn to face him or not. I chose the latter over the former.

I kept my eyes concentrated on the brush I held in my hand. I strained my ears to hear him moving, but I was met with deathly silence. The hairs on my neck prickled, and I fought the temptation of turning around suddenly. I had to make him come to my, not the other way around. I sat stock-still, waiting for what seemed like hours until I felt a pair of hands graze my shoulders.

I gasped. I had been expecting the touch, but it still caught my off guard. He still said nothing, and I felt my heart racing. But was it racing in fear or expectancy? Maybe, a little of both?

I didn't say a word as the hands began to knead my shoulders tenderly. I thought I felt lips brush across my right shoulder, but I couldn't be sure. It had been so brief, but I felt goosebumps forming on my arms. A finger teased the length of my neck, followed by feathery kisses that pursued the same trail as the finger. The velvety lips seemed to linger at my neck for just a moment, and I stiffened. He caressed my neck again with his finger, and then, I felt the tip of his tongue tickle my neck.

I felt myself being turned to face him – my seducer. Beautiful was the initial word that came to mind when I looked at him. The first thing I noticed was his hair. His hair was untamed, framing his face in a rebellious fashion, begging to be touched. His green eyes were dark with emotion; bottomless pools of emerald, betraying a hint of mystery. I wanted to believe that this was some sort of trick. He was making himself appear more beautiful than he really was. I wanted to speak to him, to tell him to stop playing with my mind, but my voice wouldn't come to me.

He took my hands in his own; his skin felt soft and delicate to touch. Bringing my hand to his cool lips, he kissed it softly, his eyes never leaving me own. He led me away from the vanity, back to the bed I had occupied moments before. I looked at him with uncertainty as a lump formed in my throat, but he only smiled invitingly to me. He laid me back on the bed and stroked my hair lovingly as if to reassure me. His fingers trailed from my hair to my neck again, tracing a finger across my collarbone, causing an involuntary shudder. This wasn't right, but I didn't want to think about it.

For once, I wanted to stop being so moral; I just wanted to feel.

He used his teeth to slide the thin straps of the gown down my shoulders, exposing my naked breasts to the world. I tried to cover myself, but he batted my hands away, shaking his head. He lowered his head to my chest and graced my collarbone with a kiss. His ran his hands up and down the sides of my body, being careful not to touch any highly sensitive areas. This only made me yearn more for his touch.

He placed light kisses on my chest, his teeth grazing my skin, and I trembled in response. I arched my back toward him, offering up my bosom, but he ignored it. It frustrated me, but I didn't want him to stop… Then, he suddenly stopped, as if reading my mind. I tried to protest, but the words wouldn't come. I looked at him, furiously, wishing my eyes could bore holes through his head. How dare he tease me like that.

His smile became more inviting as his hand hovered above my still clothed stomach. There was no warmth emitting from his hands. Instead, there was more of a coolness that made chills run down my spine. He silently waved his hand over my body, letting his fingers barely touch my responsive skin. I trembled when his hands teased the side of my breast.

I stared into his eyes, lust making them appear shades darker than their normal color. That looked frightened me, but at the same time, it was arousing. He made a move to rip the gown away from my body, but he hesitated. "Take it off for me," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Ask me." I said, my voice commanding, yet subdued. He smiled at me, flashing a bit of his fangs.

"Would you the gown off for me?" He asked, caressing my cheek. I kissed the palm of his hand, feeling his pulse beat against my lips.

"Ask again."

He brought his face close to mine, rubbing his cheek against mine. I could feel his lips against my ear. "Would you please take the gown off, Ororo?" He asked again.

"Yes," I whispered and slid away from him, getting off the bed, walking to the middle of the floor. I held the gown to my body, pulling the straps over my shoulders, sauntering away from him with a sway of my hips.

I peeked over my shoulder where he was watching my every move, hungrily. I ran my hands over my body slowly, and he raised his eyebrows at me. I slowly slid the straps back down my shoulders. Holding the material over my form, letting it fall inch by inch, until finally I released it. It fell to my feet in a puddle of crimson. "An Aphrodite born of blood and lust instead of the sea." He said, as he stalked toward me, a hunter hunting its prey. This should have alarmed me, but I felt seductive and powerful.

I backed away from him, fueling the chase. I moved around the bed, and he followed me with those same calculated, predatory steps. I found myself wondering if this was how he hunted. I turned my back away from him, and it didn't surprise me moments later when his lips brushed my shoulders. I pulled away him, again, but he wouldn't allow me to deny him – and I didn't want to.

He turned me to him somewhat roughly, pushing me against the bare, cold stone of the walls, pinning my arms to my side. He crushed my lips with this own. His tongue invaded my mouth and wrestled my own as if we were battling wills. Then, his kiss slowed and he nibbled slightly on my bottom lip. He released my arms, and I unbuttoned the simple, white shirt he was wearing, pulling it away from his chest, revealing a tattoo of a snake that coiled around his torso and arm.

I ran my hand across his smooth chest, trying to memorize the feel. I touched my lips to his chest, and he pulled my head away. Using the support of the wall, I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting my head fall against his shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I could feel his heart thumping like mad or was that my own? Perhaps, it was our hearts beating as one. He buried his face in my neck, his hair tickling my shoulders, his cool lips moving against my skin as he said, "We are one. You are forever connected to me."

"Forever?" I whispered. No, I didn't want forever. I tried to push him away from me, but he wasn't budging. His eyes were darker now, but with something I couldn't understand.

"What did you expect, Ororo? I am a vampire," he said as if I didn't already know this. He pulled away from me, a mischievous grin covered his face. "And you may never see the light again."

"Wake up." I whispered to myself. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

My eyes fluttered open to the sound of me built-in radio screaming out into the night. "Ohhh, you were a vampire, and I may never see the light…" A female voice wailed into the room, seemingly repeating his words. I quickly turned it off and hugged myself tightly. This was going to be a long night.