CHAPTER 1

"Is this the place?" Serena asked as she stepped from the taxi, wrinkling her delicate nose.

"Oh don't bitch," Andrew said, "New York is expensive."

"No more then London I presume," Serena said looking glumly over their new home.

The apartment building was large and imposing, with hundreds of windows trailing up it. Serena didn't like it. Pouting, she thought of her cute little cottage out in the country – oh how she missed England.

Less then two hours from touch down, Serena was home sick. To say the truth she didn't like New York, she thought London was bad, but this had topped even that. Firstly New York was constantly overshadowed by huge buildings, all dominating and impersonal. Everywhere Serena looked there was a building! Secondly, the traffic had never ceased, she had been amused by the cab driver as he pounded his horn every five seconds, but that faded into terror at his crazy driving skills.

"That's what you think," Andrew muttered, struggling under all the bags, "What the hell did you pack in this goddamned bag!"

"Clothes, what else would I pack?" She said sweetly, "But if you're too weak, I'll do it myself."

Andrew snorted, "Be my guest, I'd love to see try and pull that up the stairs."

Serena sniggered and pulled at the heavy bag, following Andrew into the shabby apartment building. The place had grey walls with a vague smell of mildew and old smoke, Serena instantly hated it – she missed her little cottage.

"Lovely! Where the hell did you find this place Andrew?" Serena asked a sharp sting to her voice.

"Do you know how much time I spent looking for a place to stay?" Andrew said glaring darkly at her, "Yes; it's a shit hole, get over it."

"I'm working on it," Serena said.

"Sometimes you can be such a snob," Andrew said, "No wonder everyone calls us poms."

"I am not a snob!" Serena huffed indignantly, "And I am not a pom!"

Andrew rolled his eyes and led them to the stairwell. Serena gasped as she saw thousands of worn steps twisting up the building.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Serena said indignantly, "Don't they have a lift anywhere?"

Andrew snorted, "Does it look like this building has a lift? Anyway we're in America now, we must do as Americans do and call it an elevator."

"It's a lift not a stupid elevator! Now help me get my bags up the stairs," Serena snapped.

"And you said you weren't a pom," Andrew muttered, taking her larger bag.

"I heard that!" She said behind him, evil thoughts of throwing her ten tonne bag into his head.

The first few steps were fine, until she got passed five, when Serena began to feel the effects of gravity and her unfit lifestyle. Of course Andrew just glided on easily, and Serena cursed him, her legs burning at the sudden hard workout.

"First floor Sere," Andrew said.

"Great. What floor is the apartment on?" She asked.

"Fifteen," He answered over his shoulder as he continued on.

"You're shitting me!" Serena exclaimed, groaning as she imagined all the stairs that would entail.

"Fourteen stairs up one floor, then times that by fifteen…" Serena said, feeling her mind tie into knots as she tried to work it out, "Jeeze where's a calculator when you need one!" Serena said exasperatedly.

"Fourteen multiply that by fifteen equals 210," Andrew stated.

"Hey I was trying to figure that out!" Serena grumbled.

"Emphasis on trying," Andrew laughed, "Remind me how many times you failed maths."

"Shut up you prick!" Serena yelled, a deep blush coating her already, exercise induced, pink cheeks.

In school she failed most of maths, and spectacularly flunked algebra. What twit stuck the alphabet with numbers! How can a plus b equal c? She could never figure it out.

Panting harshly Serena felt sweat form on her hot body, ooh she hated physical activities. Serena was silent most of the ascent, her face pulled in a deep frown as she pictured the busy days to come. Boy, she was not ready for the hustle and bustle of New York; it made her wince as she thought of having to find her way through the complex twisting city.

"What floor are we now on?" Serena wheezed as they stopped on yet another landing.

"Floor seven," he said, adjusting his grip on the luggage.

Serena groaned and sat on her bag, her poor legs giving up. For the first time Serena regretted packing so much and calling Andrew weak – at least then he would be carrying everything up.

"Fine, I'll take your bag," Andrew said, "Besides it would be a waste of travelling here if you have a heart attack."

Serena stepped aside and watched Andrew pick her bag easily up, and resume the horrid climb. When they got to their floor, Serena felt relief, her legs wobbling as she leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath. That was the worst torture anyone could inflict upon a person! They seriously needed a lift!

"What room is it Andy?" Serena asked.

"Room 266," he answered.

"Urg, this is room 232," She said glancing at the nearest door, "It's going to be right at the end of this floor!"

"I'm sure you'll make it. Maybe we should check you into a rest home before you check out," Andrew joked, surprisingly in good spirits after the 12 hour plane trip.

Serena sent him a withering look, "Hahaha, what a hoot!" She said sarcastically rolling her eyes, "No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

"That coming from you," Andrew sniggered, "We don't have to wonder why you don't have a boyfriend, you whiner," he retorted.

"I am not a whiner!" She objected, "Let's get going," Serena muttered changing the subject, not willing to admit defeat. She felt hot and sticky, not to mention a little hungry, and all she wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep.

Arriving at 266 Serena turned to look at Andrew, following behind, his arms filled with bags – the majority of which was hers.

"Hurry up, jeeze it takes you ages. If you had been nice I might have helped," Serena said.

"You help me?" Andrew said sceptically, his eye brow rising amusedly, "Who almost went into cardiac arrest climbing the stairs?"

Serena sniffed, dismissing his comment, and held her hand out, "Keys."

"If you haven't noticed my hand are a little busy," indicating to the bags, "in my left jean pocket…no my left," he said as she put her hand in the wrong pocket.

"Got them," she smiled, extracting them and inserting them into the brass lock.

Throwing the door open, Serena got a first look of the place they would be occupying. It was very basic, painted a disgusting green with rickety worn furniture, and led into a crammed kitchenette. Walking more into the room, she saw an exhausted couch and old TV, the dark carpet underneath the TV stand adorned with a hideous rug. Being ugly wasn't the reason Serena instantly dislike the place; it was the feelings associated with the room.

Serena wasn't a common psychic, she had her own special category,but she could sense the feelings attached to the apartment – that's why she didn't like old buildings. This particular apartment had sadness and failure linked to it, which put Serena into a low depressed mood.

"Lovely." Serena muttered, "Absolutely friggin' lovely."

Continuing on she saw a ridiculously tiny bathroom and one bedroom, thankfully, with two beds within.

"Hope you don't snore," Andrew said, coming up behind her. Serena glared at him.

"So what now?" She asked, her eyes revolving around the room, debating on how to make the area more…homely.

"I guess we should do some shopping before we start investigating," Andrew said, "After all the aeroplane food was revolting."

"It wasn't that bad – now who's is being the snob," Serena said smugly, crossing her arms.

"Hmm, but you love any food that's free," Andrew said.

"That is not true, food is included in the ticket, I read the ticket conditions," She corrected.

"Bravo! The girl can read!" Andrew said, turning around, "Now let's get going and find a supermarket or something."

"But its dark," Serena said.

"Unless you are afraid of vampires or something, that shouldn't be a problem. Remember this is the 21st century everything's open 24 hours," He said.

Serena stuck her tongue out, "Fine let's go."

Walking together Serena looked affectionately at Andrew. Despite their constant sibling like banter, she wouldn't be with any other person. She had first met Andrew when she moved to London; he had been suffering from depression, in particular, schizophrenia, or so the doctors had diagnosed. However Andrew was an untrained psychic, confused and scared of the thoughts he picked up from other people. After helping him, they had become inseparable friends; he was her like her big brother, always there for her.

At the landing of the stairs Serena paused, "Uh Andrew, is there another way down that doesn't involve these stairs?"

"Yeah," Andrew said, "The fire escape."

000

Darien Shields shot his killer smile as he climbed from his limo, his gorgeous date, Beryl Reins, on his arm, a flurry of crimson material and long legs. Walking down the red carpet, he ignored the spectators pushing on the sides, and stepped into the large majestic building where the black tie event was being held.

He was one of the most well known and wealthiest men in New York; he had helped carve the city when immigration to America had first occurred. However, it was not like any mortal knew that, for though Darien Shields was one of the most eligible and wealthiest bachelors, he was also a vampire. More specifically, he was one of the oldest and most powerful vampires in existence, originating from Italy in the Renaissance era.

His company, Earth Incorporated, was the empire he had created here, involved in the law and the stock market, bringing large billion dollar influxes into New York. Presently he was attending the annual Charity Ball, an affair where large money was, donated by businesses from the goodness of their hearts. That was not the case though; the charity ball was an affair that distinguished the rich from the stinking rich, an event that, every year, became more competitive for dominance over the city.

The ball room, at the end of the spectacular corridors, was fantastic! It was giant, expanding forever with light marble floors and massive arching windows adorned in gold curtains. Multiple chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, basing around a massive kingly chandelier in the centre.

As Darien stood onthe platform, at the top of the wide curving stair case, he impassively watched the swirling mass of black tuxedos and gowns, varying from every colour in existence.

Beryl's grip increased possessively on his arm as she stood at the top of the stairs. Elation ran through her body like a drug as she looked up at Darien' devastatingly handsome face. She was a queen with her King of the Night, everything was perfect!

Flicking her dark red hair, they descended down the stairs – a striking couple. But Darien didn't care; she was just another leech, human or vampire, eager for his power, money and body. It had always been like that through the centuries, not that he really cared. The only thing he cared for was power.

Power invoked fear. Power was dominance. Power could get you anything.

000

Melvyn