A/N:Leah: I looked back at what I have written so far and you're right, I am rushing things a bit. I will try to slow down. Thanks for pointing that out . And no, you're not flaming, you're giving me constructive criticism, something I get all too little of. Everyone can feel free to make suggestions, point, stare, and ask questions, as long as it's done civilly. Cheers.

BTW, I've gone back and changed it so that the sleepover doesn't take place on a "school night" so we can have some more Damien/Ebony working. -

Intermission

I hurried back to Damien's, bursting to tell him all that I had just done and seen, and yet certain that would not, nor would I ever, most likely. He and I shared a lot in common – nearly everything, in fact – but I could never tell him what I had seen. I swore I wouldn't. Because I was afraid that if I ever told Damien that I had resurrected a vampire in the Van Helsing safe…

…he'd laugh at me.

So I sealed it inside.

It was getting kinda late, but since all our homework and studying was done, we decided to watch just one more movie. Damien let me choose, since I was his guest, he claimed. I chose Queen of the Damned. It had been one of my favourites since I first saw it on my thirteenth birthday when it first came out on DVD and video. Hey, true to the book or not, Stuart Townsend is still hot! Actually, Damien looked just like he had in the "Forsaken" music video on the DVD's Special Features. Y'know, except not black-and-white. Well maybe just a little. Anyways…

We held a long discussion over what Anne Rice might have killed herself over in the movie, what changes we liked, what we hated with genocidal fury, and the sort. We might have carried on all night if Damien's mom hadn't come in to break us up and get us to bed. She had been talking on the phone with my mom while Damien and I were watching the movie. Mom wasn't too sure about me sleeping over a guy's house, but she trusted me not to do anything stupid. That thought never even crossed our minds, really. I may have been a thief, but I wasn't a slut. Besides, we didn't even sleep in the same room; Damien's mom set me up nice and comfortable in a guest bedroom. Damien's mom was really nice; I liked her. She reminded me of my mom.

I couldn't fall asleep easily, partly due to my constant thinking of Damien, partly because I'm an insomniac. But I didn't want to sleep just then. I wanted to think of Damien, and how much he looked like that vampire from the abbey. At least, he looked like the vampire had looked in my dreams. Then I just wanted to think about Damien himself. He was so sweet and smart, with a sort of shyness that most Goths don't have but was very attractive in him. I think he was only shy around girls, since I saw him carrying on easily with other guys. Or maybe he liked me…no, I didn't want to go there just yet. That would be setting myself up for a disappointment somewhere down the road. I started humming to myself as I thought of him, and how we could be someday when we had gotten to know each other better and had been friends for a while. Smiling, with thoughts of Damien, the vampire, and Stuart Townsend swirling around in my head, I lay down and fell asleep.

I hid behind the great statue, listening to the two priests talk and watching the fountain not far to my left. A rather off-putting structure, really; a marble statue of Jesus Christ on the cross with holy water pouring from his hands, feet, and heart. I wasn't well-schooled in Christianity or anything, but I thought that was supposed to be the stigmata or something like that. It didn't really matter to me. What mattered was what the fat, choir-boy-groping priests were talking about:

"And you're certain that this is what the Bible dictates?"

"Of course. The time has come for a new Crusade. We shall spread Christianity to the four corners of the Earth and save all the lost and decadent souls on this planet. Paganism and atheism run rampant in this godless age, and it is our sacred duty to put and end to it and turn all souls on the proper path to redemption and Heaven."

"But what of those who will not let go of the old ways? What of those who will not be saved?"

"Then we shall purify them in cleansing fire. They will pay for their sins so that they will be admitted into Heaven and there find truth and peace with God and Christ."

I was furious. How dare these hypocritical old farts try to tell people what to believe? Hell, I was a pagan! Who were they to judge me? Didn't they know theocracy is dead? I growled angrily, my hands opening and closing into fists as I tried to calm myself. But I could not be calmed by any means. I was pissed. And I wanted these arrogant old fools to know it.

With a roar of fury, I jumped up and seized a gold chalice from off a nearby altar. With quick, angry strides I approached the fountain of Christ. With the golden chalice, I smashed in His face. The priests yelled and shouted, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I was fascinated by the changes overcoming the fountain. Blood was pouring from Christ's smashed face, and the holy water pumping out in an imitation of the stigmata was also turning to blood. Grinning triumphantly, I dipped the chalice in the blood collected in the basin below the gargantuan cross and filled it. I turned to the priests, holding the chalice aloft with both hands. In Aramaic, I declared:

"The Blood is the Life! And the Life will be mine!"

My words reverberating around the church with such volume that the priests clamped their hands over their ears, I threw my head back and downed the blood in the chalice. When I had drained the last drop, I threw my arms out and laughed evilly, letting the chalice fall from my hand with an ominous clang! I felt blood trickling down the corner of my mouth, and I loved it. I just laughed and laughed without stopping. (A/N: I actually did have this dream; just this next part is made up) Then I realized that someone was laughing with me. I lowered my head slightly to see, and I saw the darkly angelic vampire from my dreams. He stood over the bodies of the two priests, now dead, and he smiled at me with approval and love in his eyes. I felt a warmth filling me as I realized that he was proud of me. He loved me, I could feel it. I smiled wider and wider until I started laughing again. The vampire smiled at me, nodding in approval. Louder and louder I laughed, shaking the church until it crumbled…

…and woke myself with my deliciously dark laughter.

I quickly clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself before I woke up Damien or his parents. I felt exhilarated for some reason, my heart pounding and my blood rushing as though I had just run a long way or gone on my favourite thrill ride. I could still hear the laughter of that dark angel figure in my ears, and I loved it. When my strange mirth had subsided, I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand by my bed. It was nine-forty-five in the morning, so I just got up and went out to the family room to wait for Damien to wake up. He came out about half an hour later and we watched mindless cartoons on TV for a while, talking about how idiotic they were but laughing anyway. When we got bored with "Spongebob Squarepants", we played "Soul Calibur II" for a while (I totally kicked his butt with Raphael, even when he played as Nightmare or Cervantes) and had breakfast. I didn't tell him about my dream, even though I wanted to. I wasn't sure what he would think. Somehow, though, we did get on the topic of religion and we discovered that we were both nocturnal Wiccans (that is, we were Wiccans who drew power from the energy of the moon and the darkness). We were both good-dark archetypes, and had been practicing for about the same amount of time.

"What really gets me, though, is when people assume that 'darkness' and 'evil' are synonymous," Damien said.

"I know exactly what you mean," I agreed. " 'Darkness' is only the absence of light, just like 'light' isn't 'goodness'; it's illumination. That's why there are the four archetypes: good-light, good-dark, evil-light, evil-dark."

"People just like to believe that the world is something polarized," said Damien, "black and white, you know? And when they find something they can't classify, they become confused. But there is no black or white, only infinite shades of grey. No one on the Earth is pure good, just like no one is really pure evil."

"Right, exactly," I said emphatically. "And people who seem good can be evil. There's been innumerable cases of Father of the Year type figures – the guys who everyone likes, who brings doughnuts and coffee into the office every Wednesday – and they turn out to be deranged psychopaths who lock their families into the house and treat them like prisoners in Iraq. That's where the evil-light archetype makes sense." Damien nodded, smiling.

"My parents don't get it," he said. "But they let me carry on because they think it's a 'phase' I'm going through." I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"I've been going through this 'phase' for six years," I said with a grin. "My mom lets me do it because it gives me something to believe in, since I place no faith in the government, in my country, or in the general human race."

"I'd ask you to put your faith in me," said Damien softly. I smiled.

"We're both nightkind," I said. "We're practically related." We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The day slipped right through our fingers. Before we knew it, my mom was calling to ask when I'd be coming home. I offered to meet her at Carfax at around nine, and she was satisfied with that. I asked Damien to come with me so he could meet my mother. He was a little skeptical.

"Oh come on, she'll love you!" I insisted. Damien was still uncertain, but he agreed. He said he wanted to walk me home anyway, make sure I got back all right. London's streets were dangerous at night, especially, he said, for a pretty girl walking alone. I laughed and declared that I could defend myself, but I appreciated his concern anyway. We spent the day mostly playing video games and watching more horror movies, mostly in the vampire genre. I was in a vampire kind of mood (gee, I wonder why). Finally eight-forty-five rolled around and I packed my sleepover bag. That done, Damien and I headed off for Carfax. We had a lively conversation about movies and books and music and such, until we reached Carfax I flashed my security badge up at the camera and the guards buzzed me in. Inside, to my surprise, Mary and Simon Sheppard were standing just outside the vault…and it was hanging wide open.

"Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Sheppard," I said uncertainly. Mary looked up, worry lines creasing her face.

"Oh, hello Ebony," she said distractedly. "Your mother's still in her office; go right up.""Uhh," I said slowly. "What happened here? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, something's very wrong," said Simon worriedly. He looked me right in the eyes and said, "The Van Helsing vault has been robbed!"