Two chapters in one week. My muse must have stopped by. This chapter wrote up much more easily than the last one. Keep the reviews coming, they help me make writing a higher priority than the 12 other things I always have going on.

Recap: Tank and Ranger get Stephanie and Ramirez into the basement holding cells. As the sun sets, Stephanie starts screaming.

Stephanie

I'm by the side of an empty grave, Benito Ramirez holding me up in a vice-like grip. He bites into my neck.

There is something hard and wet against my mouth. I don't want to, but I am forced to drink by a ravaging thirst within me.

I'm falling, falling.

Oblivion. Mostly. But the occasional sound of digging. Then a feeling of movement. Still trapped, still can't move.

I open my eyes, gasping for air. Which doesn't make me feel any better, oddly. I don't recognize the room. It's gray and dark and there's no windows. But my brain is still stuck in 'maniac is biting me' mode, and I scream. Quite frankly, I think I deserve it. Just a little one really, to let out the hell of a day I've had. And then I realize my neck is burning. Burning like I'm wearing a hot poker choker. I scramble to pull away whatever was burning me, but I can't lift my body. My hands claw at my neck as I try to pull away whatever is scalding me. But I can't get a grip on whatever it is, it eats at my hands too. I let out a scream of pain and frustration.

"Stephanie, Stephanie are you hurt?" a panicked voice calls from the other side of a door I hadn't noticed before.

"Ranger?" I almost sigh in relief. But the pain is intense and very distracting. And I'm so, so thirsty. "Ranger, get me out of here!"

I hear a lock tumble and he bursts into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes one look at me, turns pale for some reason, and rushes to my side. He grabs at something on my chest and yanks. For a second the pain is even more intense, then it's gone.

I grab onto him, clutching for dear life. He winces and I hear a slight crack. "Can't…breath" he gasps out. I release him. He smells good. Unbelievably good. And I want him so badly. And I'm so thirsty. I close my eyes as I bring in his intoxicating scent.

There is a slight pop and then there is something being poured down my mouth. It's rich and sweet and flavorful. It has every comforting flavor, like Boston Creme Donuts and Thanksgiving Dinner all rolled into one. But in a moment it's gone, and the thirst returns. Another pop, another bottle being held at my mouth. This one is amazing too, but the flavor profile is a bit different. Less homey, more spice. I gulp it down, my eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. My cheeks begin to warm. One more bottle, this time buttery and creamy. I finish it and start panting. I fill my lungs with air, but I don't feel any different. No relief. But I can feel my chest healing. The burns I had just a few moments ago are closing up, leaving nothing but a slight tingle.

I open my eyes. Ranger is there, staring at me. Trying not to stare at me. Failing. He looks so clear. I can see a tiny scar by his left eye that I hadn't noticed before. And every thread in his shirt. I can hear his heartbeat. He smells like sweat and work and dust and I want to ravish him. Because somehow that scent is the best one on the planet. But he doesn't look like he wants a ravishing. He looks like he is scared. Scared of what? And then I see the bottle in his hand, open and outstretched to me. A red bottle. And on the label I can see what it is. Tru Blood.

"No" I whisper, covering my mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't get to you in time."

"NO!" I say louder, launching myself away from him. The bed pushes towards him, knocking him off balance as he tumbles to the floor. I find myself flung somehow against the opposite wall. How did that happen? I look around, but there's only the two of us in the room. I can't have pushed that hard, could I? I'm not nearly strong enough…

Ranger scrambles up and keeps looking at me like he might cry. "I tried to find you, I tried so hard, but by the time we got there it was too late."

I covered my face, trying not to cry myself. But then I felt something sharp against my inner lip. And when I pulled my hands away to feel my teeth I saw my hands were covered with blood. I started to hyperventilate, then realized it wasn't actually doing anything. "Oh God." I moaned "I'm a vampire."

Somewhere, not too far away, I heard a cackling, giggling, high pitched laugh.

Lester

Filling in the grave took a lot less time than it took to dig it. Especially once we found a garden hose and used it to create soft spots next to the piles of sand, causing them to collapse into the hole. Who knew all my Sand Castle work when visiting my grandparents would come in so handy?

Bobby and I both decided to just eat and get to work, meaning we left only an hour and a half after Ranger and Tank did. I was worried about him, and Bobby was fascinated at the idea of studying a vampire. So we ended up arriving at the future Rangeman site about 20 minutes after sundown. We parked, noting from the SUV in the parking garage that they had made it. There was still no cell reception in the lower levels or landlines installed, so we hadn't been able to ask them how things were going.

When the elevator opened up we saw Tank standing between two of the cells, his arms crossed. Out of one cell was the sound of sobbing, out of the other a high pitched giggle. I gave Tank a "what's the situation" glance. He walked over, very quietly for a man the size of a rhinoceros.

"She isn't taking it well, but she's alive. Well, undead? She's moving and talking and not attacking. But she's drunk all the Tru Blood I bought, and I don't want Ranger in there if she's thirsty. But getting him to voluntarily come out of there won't be easy."

"You want me to go get more?" I asked, figuring it was the least I could do.

Tank nodded. "Get a lot, we have no idea how much she will need. And I don't want to run out."

Another giggle came from the room further down the hall. "Don't forget the Champ. You have to feed your prisoners. It's the rule."

I shuddered at the high pitched creepy-ass voice. It sounded like something out of a horror movie with no budget for actual special effects.

"I'll be back soon." I called over my shoulder as I hightailed it out of there.

Ranger

I tried to comfort her the best I could. There wasn't much I could do though. I sat down on the floor beside her and put an arm around her shoulder as she cried into me. I felt so damn guilty about it all. And I was aching from what was likely a broken rib from her grabbing me.

After a while she lifted her head from her hands, sniffing. Her face was blotched and red. Not normal red. Not the red of a puffy face. It looked like she had visited a slaughterhouse. Blood ran down in streaks from her eyes. Madre de dios, she was crying blood.

I reached over and took her hand in mine, hoping to comfort her, though I didn't really have any idea of what to say. I had already said I was sorry more times than I could count. And I don't think Hallmark had a line of "Sorry you're now undead, but here's an inspirational picture of a sunset" cards.

I was going to open my mouth and just play it by ear, but the strangest thing happened. My hand, which was blistered and raw from the hours of digging, suddenly stopped hurting. As I held her hand, I could see my own skin smoothing out where I had touched her. And a few moments after that, the other hand mended as well. In fact, I could feel my cracked rib straightening out and I started to feel my fatigue lift. I stared at my hand. "What the hell is going on here?"