Brenda felt like a strange, morbid sort of bride in the outfit and make-up she wore. She pulled the veil down over her face to avoid immediate recognition. She was certain her picture had been on the television since she'd disappeared. When a police detective went missing, they were looked for.

The club was crowded when she and Simon arrived. Brenda kept her head down as Simon led her through the crowd, toward the back room where she'd spoken with him the first night she'd met him. She knew it had only been a few days, but it seemed so long ago now. She supposed it had been a lifetime.

In the back room, Liz was lounging on the lap of a large black man. She looked up when Simon arrived, with Brenda just behind him. She could sense something in Liz, she realized, that wasn't present in her companion. An instinct that told her Liz was a predator, and so was Simon, but she'd found herself used to that, as he'd made her. She could see in Liz's eyes the same realization as she looked from Simon to Brenda.

Simon cleared his throat. "Liz, I'd like you to meet my Childe," he said, gently taking Brenda's arm and leading her farther into the room.

"So, you're breaking Traditions now?" Liz asked in a light voice, a smirk playing at her full, shining red lips.

"It's nothing you wouldn't have done, Liz!" Simon said defensively.

Brenda nodded in agreement. "I'd have died if not for Simon," she said softly.

"And are you here now for a feeding lesson?" Liz asked.

Simon nodded.

Liz glanced down at the man she sat with. "Would you mind?" she purred.

He sighed, and extended his hand out toward Brenda. "From the wrist," he said.

Brenda approached him slowly, looking at the wrist uncertainly. She could see the vein beneath his skin, and imagined the pulse beneath it. She remembered the liquid she'd drank from Simon's veins, and felt an intense hunger rise within her at the memory. She reached out and took his hand gently, and lifted it toward her lips, feeling her canines elongate as she brought it closer. She'd expected to feel revulsion at this, but the need was so acute that she wasted no more time sinking her teeth into the tender flesh.

As the blood flowed into her mouth, she felt as if she'd been parched and this was the first sip of water she'd had in days. It wasn't as overwhelming as the experience she recalled with Simon earlier that evening. She felt much more aware of what was around her and in control of herself. But she still felt pleasure from drinking the man's blood.

"That's enough," Brenda heard Simon say as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

She drew back, instinctively licking away at the blood that oozed from the wound, and finding to her surprise that it healed over completely as she did so. His wrist looked smooth, and the flesh unbroken. Brenda let go of him and stepped back, looking up at his face, self-conscious of the fact that she feared she may have given him the pleasure she remembered experiencing when she'd been bitten, and wondering how much experience he had at being fed upon.

The man drew his arm back and smiled politely at Brenda.

"Good," Simon said. "Do you feel better? Are you still hungry?"

"A little," Brenda said, answering both questions.

"Feel free to hunt around the club," said Liz.

"This is a good place for that," Simon said, gently taking Brenda's arm. "You're pretty enough that you should be able to draw people to you. Just go and find a conspicuous place to sit, and look like you want a drink. When someone comes along to buy you one, you find some place secluded, and lead them to believe that you're interested in them physically. A bite is quite welcome in such a situation. I'm going to try to feed a bit myself, so you'll be on your own for now."

Brenda nodded and followed Simon out of the back room, dragging her feet. She eyed the people in the club, and imagined the situation Simon had recommended. They'd be putting their hands on her, and she would have to endure it. Maybe normally she would have been fine with it, but the thought of being groped now simply turned her stomach. She didn't want to try to seduce anyone. She wanted to be alone. But she needed to feed.

She did as Simon had advised, finding a seat right at the bar, and looking out at the other patrons. A few people did make eye contact and smile at her, and when they did so, she froze up, and her reaction must have been quite obviously negative, because no one approached her. She knew, her body language demanded that no one come near. No matter how badly she needed to feed, she could not hide her reluctance to allow anyone to flirt with her.

Eventually, Simon was approaching her again, and Brenda found it difficult to meet the expression of pity upon his face. "Let's find you some animals to feed on," he said in her ear.

She nodded gratefully and followed Simon out of the club.

-

After having broken into the Denver Dumb Friends League, Brenda felt both guilty and worried, although she had finally healed her injuries. Although she hadn't killed any of the animals and Simon had ensured her that those she'd fed upon would recover, she knew she couldn't do that often. She would have to learn to feed from humans. Yet she felt that required too much intimacy for her.

She listened carefully as she crawled into Simon's window once more, and was eventually uneasily satisfied that no one lurked within his apartment. Simon followed behind her, closing the window and locking it, and then sliding the board into place so that no light was allowed in. After a moment of fumbling around, he turned on a small lamp near the couch. "You will not be able to go out in the sunlight anymore," Simon told her, in a tone that she couldn't decide whether it was meant to be apologetic or simply helpful.

"I suspected that was the case," she said, eyeing the boards on all of the windows. It seemed like a small loss to her, compared to her entire life that had been stolen.

"When the sun comes up, you'll grow sleepy anyway. You won't be able to stay awake easily," he explained, approaching the couch. "This unfolds into a bed," he told her, removing the cushions from it and setting them behind it.

Brenda joined him in unfolding the bed from within.

"I'll get you some blankets," he said, turning away and disappearing into his room.

He had two blankets and a pillow with him when he returned just a few minutes later, which he began spreading out over the small bed.

"Are you going to be in a lot of trouble for . . . doing this?" she asked.

"It's called the embrace," he told her. "The act of creating a vampire is called the embrace. And no. Not a lot of trouble. There are three Traditions we're all expected to follow, and the first of them is not to let mortals find out that we exist. Another one is not to embrace anyone. I expect I'm going to owe the Prince a favor when he finds out. It would be a good idea to introduce you to him as soon as possible, so he knows who you are. Most cities are ruled by a prince," Simon explained.

Brenda nodded slowly. "What is the other Tradition?"

"Don't destroy another vampire by drinking their soul," he told her.

Brenda almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the notion. "All right. I won't even ask how one does that."

Simon nodded. "I should warn you, though, not to drink blood from another vampire. Doing so will give that other vampire power over you. The more you do it, the more power they will have over you. Not only that, but you will become addicted to it."

"I drank your blood," Brenda pointed out. She'd seen what addiction did to people, and she wanted no part of it.

"Only during the embrace, and that won't make you into an addict. Don't worry."

"When were you embraced?"

"In the late nineteenth century."

"Who embraced you?"

Simon turned away from her and was quiet for a moment. "My Sire, the woman who embraced me . . . well, it's her dress you're wearing now."

"What happened to her?" Brenda pressed.

"She went away," he said. "I'd prefer not to talk about her if you don't mind."

"Okay." Brenda wasn't going to press him to discuss something painful to him. She wondered if his Sire had also been his lover. They'd lived together in this tiny apartment, obviously, since he still had some of her things. She wondered if her absence pained him. She wanted to know Simon, since she found herself so utterly dependant on him now, but she didn't want to risk alienating him. He was all she had. She'd have to give it time. She needed time herself, time both to heal from her horrific experience, and to mourn the loss of everything that had ever meant anything to her.

"Get some sleep," he said to her. "You'll be safe her, I promise. I'm sorry for what you've been through. You truly were a victim."

"Thank you," Brenda said uncertainly. She didn't like being called a victim, for it had connotations of pity, but didn't know what else to call herself. She preferred to call most women who'd experienced rape survivors. But she had not survived. There was no word but victim for her.

She watched as Simon walked away again, closing his bedroom door behind himself, leaving her alone. She crawled into the little bed and lay down, not feeling the slightest bit sleepy. Hadn't her notes about the case been left at her apartment? Simon's address had been in there. Had the two men gotten it? She doubted it, suspecting they'd have known to get her out of there as quickly as possible before police arrived, since she'd made so much noise.

But then the police would have her notes. Would they come to Simon's apartment to follow up on her questions with him? Or perhaps looking for her? He was one of the last people Brenda was known to have spoken to. She feared they would try to question him. What if they came during the day, as she had done at first?

She wondered how her parents were coping with her disappearance. She had trouble guessing at her mother, but it pained her to think of what her father must be going through. She'd always loved him more, even though you weren't supposed to love one parent more than another. She couldn't bear to think of her father mourning her. She imagined instead that he was relentlessly searching instead. Which she supposed was very dangerous. She didn't want him to find what she had found. She didn't want him to know what had happened to her.

Sleep took her quite unexpectedly and abruptly as the sun began to light the horizon outside, unseen to her. Her worries were quickly lost to unconsciousness.