The elevator reached the top and the doors whooshed open, allowing the two vampires to step out. Walking down the hall, Grace swore to herself that she would never run again. She reached the water room and looked around. No one was there.
"Where's…?" she started to ask where Deacon was.
Verlaine pointed out to the balcony. Grace turned. She saw Deacon standing silently at the railing, looking over the city. She walked across the room and to the balcony.
"Deacon?" she asked softly.
He didn't move at first, but after a moment, he turned. "What's happening, Grace?" he asked, eyes dark and confused.
"I-I…" Grace tried to find the words to say, "I…don't know," she said at last, trying to read his emotions.
"Don't lie to me," Deacon said, "You know what's going on. It's what you dreamed about, isn't it?" he could see it in her eyes.
Grace looked down. "Yes." She said softly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice was quiet as he walked up to her. "Why?" he repeated, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"What was I supposed to say?" Grace exclaimed, raising her head to reveal the tears in her eyes, "'by the way, when I brought you back, I trapped La Magra inside of you'?"
Deacon gazed searchingly into her eyes, then pulled her to him, holding her in his arms; he could feel her distress, fear. Grace closed her eyes tightly, fighting back her tears. No, she wouldn't cry again tonight.
When dawn came, Grace fell into an uneasy sleep. She tossed and turned, Deacon on her mind always, and she moaned in her sleep as she dreamed.
'Edgewood Towers,
Grace's Nightmare
She opened her eyes and looked around. It was dark, so dark. She pushed her golden hair out of her eyes. Was she awake? She felt like she was. She stood up, looking around for Deacon. She didn't see him, so she walked out down the hallway.
"Deacon?" she called.
Her voice echoed down the hall, but there was no reply.
"Verlaine? Priest?" she said. Where was everybody?
She reached the water room and looked around. No one. She walked out to the balcony, looking out over the glowing city.
"Grace?"
She turned at the sound of her name. It was Deacon. And yet it wasn't. "Deac?" she said, eyes widening ever so slightly.
"You know better then that, Grace," He said, normally ice blue eyes red.
"What is it you want, La Magra?" she asked, backing up a step.
"Everything. Nothing. You." He said, walking slowly towards her.
"M-me?" she said in surprise, backing up until she hit the railing. She glanced behind her, frightened by the hundred or more feet of empty air between her and the ground if she fell.
"Yes, you," he said, not stopping until he was right in front of her, "I thought you'd be happy."
"Why should I be?" she said as he raised a hand to her face, fingers gentle against her cheek, "You're a monster."
He gazed into her eyes for a moment, and she shivered. He moved his hand to the back of her head. "So is your lover boy," he whispered in her ear.
He tightened his grip on the back of her head, painfully tight. And then he buried his fangs in her throat. She didn't scream, but bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly. He drank her blood, draining her strength. And then he released her, letting her sink to the floor of the balcony. Dazed, she put a hand to her neck, feeling the wound. She looked up at him as he wiped her blood from his mouth. Suddenly, her skin felt like it was on fire, something was happening to her. Now, instead of feeling weak, she felt strong and powerful. But she was dead inside. Dead and fading. Fading, fading…'
Grace sat up with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. She quickly looked around the room. No one there. She raised a hand to her face, shaking slightly. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She took a shower and got dressed, choosing blue jeans with flames rising up from the cuffs, a black halter top, and boots. As she walked for the door to the bedroom, she grabbed her jacket; she had to get out of this place, she was starting to go crazy. And the whales agreed with her.
Grace sat at the bar in Death's Kiss. Death's Kiss was a popular night spot for both vampires and humans alike. The music throbbing in her ears, she looked over at Deacon as he set his drink down.
"Dance with me?" she asked him.
He didn't say anything, but stood and took her hand. Smiling, she stood as well. Together, they walked out onto the dance floor. The song ended, and a new one started, one with a beat she liked more. She started to move with the music, leaning back into him. Deacon put his hands on her hips, and she placed her hands over his. As they danced together, she moved her hands up his arms, to around his neck. Grace laid her head back against his chest and looked up at him. He kissed her forehead and she released him, spinning around.
Her golden ringlets flew across her face, and for a moment, she couldn't see. He pulled her to him, the both of them still moving to the beat of the music. He held her against him with one hand on the small of her back while he slipped his other hand under her chin, tilting her face up. He kissed her full on the lips, taking her breath away. She closed her eyes, one hand snaking up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his brown hair. As he pulled away, she could hear his thoughts. Naughty. He heard hers and laughed. He kissed her again, nipping her lip with his sharp teeth.
Grace opened her eyes, a smile on her face. She looked past Deacon, and the smile froze. There was a woman standing behind him, ten feet away. She was dressed from head-to-toe in black leather, and had short black hair with red streaks. She held a crossbow in her hands. A crossbow aimed at Deacon. And there was a look to kill in her eyes. She started to pull the trigger.
"Get down!" Grace yelled, throwing Deacon to the side.
The arrow flew through the air, hitting a vampire behind them. Some one screamed.
"What the hell?" Deacon exclaimed, turning.
"Well, well, well, fast reflexes, Grace," the woman said, not lowering the crossbow.
"Who the hell are you?" Grace demanded. She could feel Deacon's anger.
"Name's Chloe," the woman said with a smirk, "I have a busy agenda, so, I'll just kill your boyfriend and be done with it."
Grace's eyes widened. "I. Don't. Think so," She growled, stepping in front of Deacon.
He was surprised to feel how alarmed and defensive she was. All of a sudden, there came gunfire from their left. Grace flinched, people screamed, and Chloe ducked. A bullet still winged her arm, tearing the leather, but she hardly reacted. She turned though. Grace turned too. Reinhardt and Chupa. God, was she glad to see them.
"Now I'm mad," Chloe said, green eyes dark, "Now I'm gonna have to kick some ass."
"I'd like to see you try," Reinhardt said.
Chupa came over to Grace and Deacon. "You okay?" he asked her.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied.
"I'm okay too, thanks for asking," Deacon said sarcastically.
Chupa gave him a dirty look.
Grace elbowed him lightly. Now was not the time.
Moving suddenly, Chloe threw her crossbow to the side and reached for the guns at her hips. Grace saw this and started forward. Reinhardt knew she was going to be too late, and moved swiftly to push her out of the way and ram his gun into Chloe's stomach, knocking her back a step. Grace stumbled, but managed to keep her balance. She was surprised; Reinhardt protected her? But she saw Chloe go after him, viciously attack him, and had to do something. She charged at Chloe from the side, but Chloe whirled and kicked her hard, sending her flying back. Grace crashed head first into the wall, and as her world went black, her last thought was of Deacon.