'New York City,

New York

About four years ago

(Grace's memory)

It was a little after evening, and Grace was chasing her new golden retriever puppy down a busy sidewalk.

"Pandora!" Grace called, watching the small dog weave around people's feet and praying that Pandy wouldn't decide to take a dive into the street.

For a moment, a short but terrifying moment, she lost sight of Pandora as a crowd of people came off the cross walk. Then, as the crowd passed by, she saw the handsome, blue eyed stranger who held Pandora in his arms. For a second, she was so surprised, she was speechless.

"Is she yours?" he asked, meaning Pandora, who was sitting so calm and contented in his arms that Grace was even more surprised

"Y-yes, she is," She said, "Thank you so much." She reached out to take Pandy from him, and when she did, her fingers brushed his. She blushed a little as she held Pandora close, making sure she couldn't escape.

"Beautiful dog," he said, petting Pandora on the head.

"Thank you," Grace said, shifting her grip on Pandy and looking back up at him.

"Good luck with her," he said, starting to walk down the street.

She turned, gazing after him for a moment. "Hey wait," she called, "What's your name?"'

And that was how is started. She could barely remember the time before Deacon, before her turning, before the melody of the whales joined her forever. The whales were singing their songs right now, telling her that she should forgive him. A single tear ran down her face, and she raised a hand to brush it away. Her anger had faded already, but she didn't know it she was ready to forgive and forget. She loved him more then anything. Would do anything for him, so why couldn't she forgive him?

She suddenly got to her feet, and Priest didn't question her when she left the balcony. She just suddenly knew she had to find Deacon. She had this terrible feeling that she was going to lose him, and she didn't know why. Grace searched for him, and found him in the same room where she'd last seen him-the bedroom. He was standing at the window, gazing out at the city.

"Deacon?" she said softly, stopping at the doorway.

He turned, and as he did, she could sharply feel his emotions; he wasn't angry at her, or at least he wasn't now. He was sorry, he knew how she felt. His arm seemed to have mostly healed, fast even for a vampire.

"Grace-" he started.

"I'm sorry," she interrupted, walking over to him, feeling like she was going to start crying again.

"Don't apologize," Deacon said.

"But I…I…you…" Grace shook her head, grateful when he put his arms around her. She rested her head against his chest and whispered, "I'm suddenly so afraid I'm going to lose you."

"You're not gonna lose me," he said, holding her tight.

Pain lanced through her chest, and she gasped. No. Not this again. Not now.

"Deacon?" she whispered, pulling back to look up at him.

"Wrong," he said, his eyes blood red.

He hit her hard across the face, sending her flying back through the open doorway to smash into the wall of the hallway. She slumped down to the ground, her head spinning and her back feeling like it was broken. She knew-hoped-that some one had to have heard that.

"You broke my fucking arm, Grace," La Magra said, walking towards her, "That wasn't too nice."

Grace shook her head a little, trying to clear it. The room was spinning.

"I should kill you for that," he said, kneeling down beside her, "But I like you, you brought me back from Hell." He slid a hand under her chin, turning her head towards him.

"And I'll send you to Hell again," she replied, her eyes focusing.

"You don't really want to do that, do you Grace?" La Magra said.

"Yes, I do," Grace replied angrily, knocking his hand away from her face, "You monster."

The thoughts and feelings she was getting from him were spinning through her mind, and her head was starting to ache.

"I'm a monster now, am I?" he said, "So are you. So is Deacon, even if he did awaken me into this world to begin with."

"He is nothing like you!" Grace said, her eyes darkening. She wondered where every one was. As if in answer to her silent question, she heard a voice.

"Grace?" Priest called.

La Magra looked up then turned back to Grace. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her feet. She started to shout out to Priest, but La Magra clamped a hand over her mouth. He pulled her into the bed room and closed the door.

"Grace?" Priest said again, closer now.

"Everything's alright," La Magra said to him through the door, sounding like normal. "She's just a little upset still."

Grace struggled, tried to say something, but she couldn't breath to speak. After a moment, she heard Priest's footsteps recede down the hallway. La Magra took his hand away from her mouth, but still held her.

"What do you want from me?" Grace asked lowly.

"Mmm, a lot of things," he purred into her ear.

She tried to pull away, but he didn't let her. "Let go of me, you monster!" She demanded, struggling hard.

He was stronger then her though, a lot stronger. "Back to monster again, babe?" he said, "I can change your mind about that."

He pulled her head to the side and she struggled all the harder. She knew what he was going to do, just like in her dream. She didn't want that to happen. She felt his teeth against her neck, and suddenly she slammed her foot back against his shin.

His head snapped back and he growled. "Bitch." His anger sent a shiver down her spine.

She hated the thought of hurting him, but she managed to free an arm and ram a fist back into his face. He released her and she stumbled forward. Grace spun, expecting his retaliation, but when she faced him, his eyes were ice blue, and the ache in her head was fading.

"Deacon?" she whispered.

"Grace?" he said with a frown. He saw the bruise that was already starting on her cheek. "What happened?"

She didn't answer, but he caught a stray thought from her and knew.

"It was La Magra." He lowered his head, "I'm sorry Grace."

"It's not your fault," she said softly, going over to him and raising a hand to his face.

"But I'm a danger to you," he said.

"I don't care," she said honestly, looking up into his eyes even as she tried to ignore the ache starting in her back again. "We'll find a way to stop La Magra. I promise."

"But until then I shouldn't be around you," he insisted, knowing that he had hurt her when La Magra surfaced.

Grace shook her head, "It won't matter how far away you are when La Magra surfaces; he'll find me," she said, "And I want you with me. I don't want to be alone. The Blood Pack…they don't understand."

"Grace…" he said quietly.

"Please Deac," she whispered, "I don't care about myself, but I will figure out how to stop La Magra and help you."

"But I care about what happens to you," Deacon said.

"I know," Grace said, "That's why I love you." She closed her eyes and hugged him.

---------------------

Standing alone in the elevator, Grace wished that all those years ago, Blade hadn't blown up all their main records on La Magra. Now all she had was the basement archives in the Towers. Half of which was computerized, and the other half, roughly, wasn't. She also just hoped that there would be something in the archives to help her. Grace wondered if something like this had ever happened before. Standing there waiting, she shivered. She noticed the dent in the wall from the previous night.

Finally, the doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and she stepped out. It was dark, but she could see fine. She decided to check the computerized section first, and headed that way, her footsteps echoing in the vast room. She could see the bright lights up ahead from the computer section and gave a sigh or relief; it was lonely and eerie down here. She wished she'd brought her comm. link.

Grace sat down at one of the computers and turned it on. She ran both of her hands through her golden ringlets and closed her eyes for a moment. As she sat there, she realized that she had other problems besides La Magra. The Vampire Nation, Blade, and that woman-Chloe, had she said her name was? Who wanted to kill Deacon. She'd probably been hired by the Vampire Nation so they wouldn't have to get their hands dirty. Had they gotten Blade too? She hadn't seen him since that night three years ago, at the Temple of Eternal Night.

She tried to force that memory from her mind again. Blade still needed to pay for what he'd done. But right now, she thought to herself as she began typing, she needed to find out the answer to her main problem with La Magra. Because she was afraid of what would happen to Deacon if she didn't.

Yay, an update! Sorry it took so long, but I finally got through my writer's block. I'd been stuck on Grace's flashback to how she meets Deacon for a month.