AN: Forgot to do a disclaimer in the first chapter so here it is. The poem in the beginning of first chapter is from the book Mirror, Mirror. I don't own anything related to Blade. Everything else is mine. Thanks for your reviews. Sorry it's been so long, butmy demonic computer crashed. Morereviews equal more updates.

I am a woman who slept with a Ghost.

I thought there was nothing bad with this boast.

I tried my best to separate my heart and my work,

But in the end I lost what I guarded most.

I guess it was expected. The bad girl fell for the bad boy.

I'd stopped being Alessandra James; I was someone new. I was Julia.

Julia Rose was never a good person. So what, see if I care. Julia Rose killed vampires for a living. I had no moral obligations—I liked what I did.

The vampires hired me as an assassin to kill their enemies. That was how I met him.

I remember the first time we met. We were in one of his clubs. He was arrogant—that annoyed me. But I was arrogant too.

I could tell from the beginning he was attracted to me. I purposely teased him. I wore short skirts, tight shirts. I was playing with him. We stopped playing the day he grabbed to fistfuls of my shoulder-length, blonde hair and kissed me.

I kept him at arms length. He was like a drug—too much and you were addicted. I didn't give a damn about him. To me, our relationship was purely physical. To him—who the hell knew what the man was thinking? But I knew it was more to him. I knew, somewhere deep down inside, that when he stared at me with his smoldering eyes that it was more than just physical desire. I knew it when he kissed me, when he held me after we slept together. It was more to him.

I still carried the scars from Alessandra James's life. Two small white dots of scar tissue lie on my pale white neck. The first time he found them he ran his finder over them and asked me where I got them.

"Oh, just from some idiot who died right after. My employer decided he didn't want to pay and sent some lackeys to kill me."

He bought the lie, or he just plain didn't care. That was the last time I told him anything about my past. I hated talking about the past. Funny thing was, neither did he.

I am a rock whose hands have appetites.

They devour their prey with large bites.

I cannot rest or cope with idyllic fantasies,

For I must constantly seek the new fights.

I got bored with him fast, but that's to be expected. I wanted him, but I craved the thrills of the hunt. So I left. He was ever so pissed off when I came back. It annoyed me, a lot.

He became controlling. He didn't want me to take any new job offers. He wanted me there with him. He kept trying to get me to let him turn me. I pointed a gun at his crotch and told him if he ever tried I'd shoot his balls off.

We began to fight. We fought a lot. Over the stupidest things. One day, he gave me my new name.

"Julia Rose couldn't be a worse name for you," he screamed. "You're a freaking thorn in my side, Ms. Rose."

After that, I changed my name to Julia Thorne. I liked it so much better. Rose had always felt a bit too sweet, too cutesy for my taste. Thorne was better.

He annoyed me. I hate things that annoy me. I began to feel things for him for the first time—feelings of contempt. Every little annoying habit I began to loathe. His constant need for control was suffocating. So I left, and didn't come back.