Everyone! This may be the last chapter posted on Fanfiction! Maybe…

I know, I know, but don't freak out. If I continue posting the story on here and I ever decide to change a couple things and try to get it published. Try being the key word. It will be difficult because the story was published under this website and they will have certain rights to it that I can't over step.

If you send me a review or a private message (from my profile) and include your email address I will send them to you. If you don't have a fanfiction account to send me a review, here is my email address I set up for the sole purpose of this story's circulation. Use common sense when it comes to the words that should be symbols.

twieveluv(at)yahoo(dot)com I'll send the chaps out to 300 people if you want.

No spaces or caps. Oh yeah, and if you are one of the people who I email the chaps to I would like some of you to volunteer to be helpers, you better be prepared to give me some long reviews cuz you all will be my advisers and critiques and if the book does get published you will be on the acknowledgements for sure. This is going to be handled like business instead of just enjoyment so be prepared, you're going to be like slave labor cuz I can't pay you. I don't have any money.

Think of this as a free book and for some of you a side job of beta-like people.

Nothing to do with Twilight. My story, My characters, My plot.

Vampire rules are different.

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Tristan's point of view (but not completely, it's more like 3rd person). These will happen every few chapters. It's kind of an experiment also to see if this is how I should write the whole story.

Aurora held onto him in a way he never thought she would. Her cold, yet headstrong demeanor had vanished and fallen away to leave a desperate and lost young woman with silent tears rolling down her face. He looked down at her head resting on his chest and her eyes were shut as she was trying to stem the flow of tears. He wished she wouldn't. He was desperate in his own way. He was desperate to be closer to Aurora.

She had not been the frightened youth he would have suspected her to be in the face of her friends' murder. It was at that point he knew he could not let her die. And now she was having a repercussion of the night's events.

She had amazed him when she embraced her fate and tilted her head for his easy access to her neck. She was brave, however foolish. He grimaced at the memory of her standing like a beacon among his fellow vampires earlier that day. Known killers. Foolish didn't even cover it. She was so unlike them though, her features looked strangely different. A different beauty. Not as stunning, gaudy and vivacious as most vampire woman, but softer, more angelic.

He was walking slowly up the stairs and saw she almost had the tears stopped, though a few were still falling from her eyes. He could picture her eyes perfectly, every detail in place. They were a strange blue. Her eyes were not pure like sapphires nor did they have ripples of gray cutting through the iris. They were dark though, not the light clear blue of the sky but like the darkness of the ocean at its deepest.

His imagination came up with several descriptions of her eyes when he lay beside her sleeping form during the night.

The closest he came to a satisfactory conclusion was moonlight. The rare occasion when the moon was a beep blue shining down on the earth and the beams illuminated the dark silver clouds.

He reached his room and paused before the door. He looked down at Aurora again and saw a fresh flood was running down her face and her jaw was clenched in an effort to stop it.

"You can cry, you are only human Aurora," he said softly. He would savor the opportunity to watch her walls come down. He could sense she was very similar to him in this respect—walls didn't come down often, or in his case never. Never before he met the girl with stronger walls than a fortress. Yet apparently, not strong enough.

He shifted her slightly and twisted the handle on the door and swung it open. Aurora jumped a little in his arms at the sound. He chuckled. Even in her most incomprehensible state she wasn't delighted to be going into a bedroom with him. He knew she was afraid, but he didn't want her to be.

"Ma colombe," he sighed. "Speak to me." Just to hear her voice would be reassuring.

Tristan walked over and laid her down on her side of the bed. It was, in his mind, now her side since no one else was ever going to be sleeping there. She didn't protest or squirm when he got in beside her. He let her get used to the weight of his body on the bed before he wrapped his arms around her. That she did protest to. The tears had almost stopped again and now came the anger. He didn't know if she was angry with him because of her friends' deaths or because she had cried. Most likely both, he thought.

She pushed and pulled but he only tightened his hold. He didn't say anything when she stopped struggling, he just let her calm down before speaking again.

It was several minutes before he opened his mouth to do so, but she started talking.

"I think Madame Charmon was fired," she said quietly. Tristan closed his mouth and waited for the rest.

"The volleyball team is going to be slaughtered without Jordan."

He didn't know what she was talking about, but to him, that was unimportant. She was opening up, only bare facts, no details but this was his chance to see into her world and he wasn't going to interrupt.

"The girls at school will have to find others to pitifully worship," she laughed shakily at this and it made him smile. She could still laugh, that was a good sign to him, but also a bad one. He sensed the laughter was forced. "All the boys will drop out of tango class. … They probably had some sort of memorial service for all of us…" she whispered. "Where are their bodies?"

Tristan knew she would eventually ask this so he buried them instead of the traditional burning. "They are in a small cemetery on the outside of the city," he said quietly into her hair and hugged her even closer when she took in a shaky breath.

The night he met her he had buried the bodies of her friends and dumped the remains of his comrades in the river, after his shower. He followed the strong smell of her and her friends through town and happened upon a hotel. He followed the smell to a huge room and easily broke off the electric lock. He went inside and looked at the suitcases. He couldn't differentiate which belonged to the blonde girl in his house so he brought all of them back with him. The whole trip took 35 minutes in all and he came back to discover her asleep. He watched her restlessly toss and turn with unease. She didn't know that she had stopped turning when he took the first kiss they'd ever shared.

He couldn't help himself. A beautiful and soft creation was sleeping in front of him and he had to touch her, to be close to her. His need to keep her safe and protect her was foreign to him but he wanted to follow that instinct. An instinct he didn't think was possible from a killer of thousands. An instinct he had never even wanted until a small brave human more radiant than her namesake came into his house.

He had touched her soft rosy lips to his cold ones and life reclaimed his body. It was amazing, this new feeling, and he wanted to explore it. She had stopped her restlessness and he slowly pulled the sheet away from her and saw she had only removed her shoes. He was a little disappointed but it was probably good she had, otherwise he would have been sure to wake her up with a bit more forceful kiss. He slowly picked up her arm and drew her wrist to his mouth. He kissed the light skin covering the thin blue veins and once again life shot through him. It was a new form of ecstasy not known to man and he had no intention of letting others discover it. He planted kisses up her arm and to the edge of her halter top. He kissed across her collar bone and only stopped when she shifted slightly in her sleep and moaned. He smiled up at her face, he liked the sound she made, he could easily get used to it.

The urge to wake her up was great but he didn't know how she would react to him and he didn't want to have to leave her side. Not that he would let her have a choice, really. But a small part of him still wanted this human to choose to be close to him. A more dominant part assured him that she was what he wanted, and he had always done what he wanted. Of course, he argued with himself, that usually ends with someone dying. He didn't want her to die. The feelings he got from touching her were amazing and he wanted that to continue.

The next morning, to his great dismay, she tried to kill herself. Tristan remembered being angry at the very thought of someone taking this new sensation away from him, even if it was herself. He had thought of her as a possession then, not as another rational creature. Vampires did not usually consider their destined prey, humans, to be anything other than a resource.

Tristan quickly changed his mind about that. When she had willingly touched his face he knew he would do anything to keep this new way of life, anything to have her touch him. The rush that ripped through his body was staggering and he wanted her to touch more of him. He wanted to crush her body to his and absorb her warmth, but he thought that would be a little extreme and might frighten her.

And now, well now she was in his arms crying because of something he could have prevented. He wished he had, for her sake. But it hadn't occurred to him that she might be close to them. He had preferred to be on his own ever since his mentor's death. He had been surrounded by others all his vampiric life but none of them had ever gotten close to him in over 200 years like this girl had in a few minutes. He should have known she would have a bond with her fellow human companions but it was not the way his mind worked.

She continued on talking about things he didn't understand and some he did. He asked random questions throughout her spiel about her age and school. It was good to hear her voice. Eventually it got softer--speaking about something she and her parents did when she was a child--and she fell asleep.

Tristan woke her hours later. He had to, night had just fallen and he needed to feed.

"Aurora," he whispered.

"Hmm," she moaned.

Tristan couldn't stop the smile that covered his face. He pushed himself up and crawled over her carefully, the bed groaning in protest. He kneeled down on the wooden floor beside the bed and brushed her long hair out of her face.

"Aurora," he repeated, louder this time.

She clamped her eyes shut. "Huh uh," she breathed.

"Wake up," he said softly.

"No," she said, very clearly, and attempted to roll over with a huff.

Tristan reached out and grabbed her hip, not allowing her to turn. She opened her eyes then and gave him an annoyed look. His smile grew wider. Only she could do such things to him.

"I have to go out," he whispered. "Stay here." His tone made it perfectly clear there were no options for her. She had to stay put, now that it was dark.

"Fine," she sighed. "Where are you going?" She rolled over onto her back but kept her face turned to him, letting her hair splay out on the pillow.

"Into the city," he answered with a small smile for her benefit. It was the truth; he was going into Paris.

He saw the questioning look in her eyes but she didn't ask. She probably already knew.

"Will you be fine when I leave?" he asked.

He already knew she would be, but he had to ask. She had gone several days without crying for her friends. Even though she needed to. Maybe now she would stop trying to kill herself, he hoped. Going to Victor's home was an indirect form of suicide, even if she didn't realize it.

"Yes," she answered tonelessly. He stood up beside the bed.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. She turned her face so he could reach her lips. She was smiling as their lips met and he enjoyed the feeling under his. Her hands reached up and encircled his neck and she started pulling him on top of her.

"Aurora," he said as he pulled his lips from hers.

He was too thirsty and she started becoming tempting in more than a healthy way. He pressed his forehead to hers watching her eyes come back into focus.

"I have to go now," he said, reaching up and untangling her arms from around his neck. "Promise me you will stay in the house."

"Yes, sir" she said, rolling her eyes.

"This is no time for stupidity, stay put," he said.

"Don't say it like that," she glared at him. "When you say it like that it sounds like an order. It only makes me want to defy it."

He growled, but in a playful way… or so he thought. He grinned down at her when her eyes got wide with a hint of fear. She saw the grin and punched his shoulder.

He didn't even blink at the impact but Aurora's jaw dropped and she looked at her knuckles.

"Ow," she gasped in surprise and threw Tristan a dirty look.

He restrained a smile though by the increasingly penetrating glare he knew she noticed it. He leaned down again and kissed her forehead.

"Goodbye," he murmured against her soft skin and left the room in a fashion that Aurora's human eyes could not compute.

He reached the red light district of Paris quickly and set out to make his hunt even quicker. A woman walked by his position of leaning nonchalantly on the brick wall of the entrance to an underground club. She eyed him the same as every human female. He gave her a suggestive smile and she quickly left her original path and stepped towards him.

She was beautiful. Only the attractive ones ever approached him, others blush crimson and duck out of his line of sight. It was always amusing to him to see how much more cocky the attractive women are. It eventually killed them. He remembered when he was still human and the women were brought up to be modest and shy. It would be mildly refreshing to him if they still were.

The woman approaching him had added a slight sway to her hips. Her hair was shoulder length and wavy and dark. Her eyes were fixated on the prize. Little did she know that the prize was planning her murder. He smiled ruefully as she stood in front of him. He shrugged off the wall and he could hear her heart flutter. His hand came up and brushed away her short hair from her neck. He inspected the tan curve of it with a look the woman mistook for longing. He placed his hand on her neck and pulled her closer. Her breath caught.

"Partons quelque part," he whispered. He was surprised she could hear him over the sound of her own heart, but she nodded.

He locked his gaze on hers and led her both with his hand and eyes into a small dark alley. It wasn't really that dark, considering where they were, there were many lights still flashing across their faces, changing the tint of their skin to pink, green, blue even.

He looked away from her to assess his surroundings. He saw an old metal door leading into a deserted part of the building he had been leaning on. Right above the underground club. Perfect.

It was locked of course but all he had to do was turn the knob a little harder than a human could and the lock broke and the handle dented. He opened the door for her and she walked in without hesitation. Once again he thought of his human life and how much humans had changed. When he was truly alive, women would never be left alone with a man, let alone go into a deserted building in the middle of the night. This was just too easy.

She let out a low giggle as he came up behind her. He spun her around and gave her a smile she wouldn't forget. He leaned down and placed his lips on her neck. She sighed and he sank his now razor sharp teeth into the giving flesh. She laughed again.

He knew the sensation that was taking her… from experience. A pleasant buzz was filling her ears and a tingling rush was originating from the place his teeth had sunk in and spreading to her limbs. She was becoming more relaxed now and he was supporting most of her weight. Minutes later she had lost too much blood to even be considered living, but her heart was still beating. It was necessary to drink most of her blood, at least to the point where her heart stopped beating, because if he didn't, she could turn into one of them. If he withdrew his teeth while her heart was still beating it could move the vampiric virus throughout her blood stream. With the desired result of turning into a murdering superhuman.

Her heart stopped beating. She had long ago stopped breathing.

Tristan lowered the still body to the wood floor, there was still music from the club below pounding through the building. He lingered over the body, watching the healing power of his own saliva, if you could call it saliva, healing her skin where his teeth had penetrated. Tristan couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman on the floor. She was probably only in her early twenties and there were similarities between her and Aurora. The very thought made him almost sick to his stomach. Almost, because, of course, vampires can't be sick. But he was as close to sick as one of the frozen could be.

Her cheekbones were similar, high but not prominent. Her eyes were big and her lashes were long and dark. Those little things sent him over the edge. He ran. He didn't know where he was going until he broke down his own bedroom door, practically ripping it off the hinges.

"Oh my God!" Aurora exclaimed as Tristan swooped down on her and lifted her into the air.

He was holding her in a bone-crushing hug. In his head he was whispering a prayer of thanks she was there. He didn't kill her, she was still alive. She wasn't the girl he used in the abandoned space above the club.

"Tristan?" she gasped.

He backed her into a wall and rested his knee on the wall between her legs so she could stay level with him. He started kissing her and all went down hill. A tear sprang from his eye silently, the first time he had cried since the death of his mentor and father figure Nicodemus.

"What's wrong?" Aurora asked when she pulled away for air. He still hadn't said anything.

Aurora saw the tear on his cheek and her eyes widened. She cupped his face in her hands and he closed his eyes.

His dark blonde hair falling over a seemingly 19 year old face. She studied him as he breathed, not answering her. His eyebrows were perfectly arched and a light brown, his lashes long and dark, his eyes weren't as large as her own but they were more angled. His cheekbones were high and his jaw strong creating hollow cheeks. His hair was another thing that made him look younger than twenty, because his body sure didn't. It was too long, but perfect nonetheless and he seemed to jerk his head, subconsciously, every few minutes to get it out of his aqua eyes. (yeah, his eye color is going to be aqua from now on because the red eye thing is a Stephenie Meyer creation and if this is gonna be published, we can't have those) His skin was smooth and flawless and pale, but not so pale that it was unnatural.

"Forgive me," he voice was as smooth and deep as always but his tone was different. Sad.

"Always," she whispered with a small smile.

"Make me forget," he said, finally opening his eyes. "Make me forget what I am."

"You're everything I have ever wanted," she said. "You need to remember that… not forget it."

He pulled away from her grimacing. "I'm a monster Aurora, you don't want that."

She gave him a wide toothy smile and reached out to him and pulled him closer. "I've never wanted anything more than I want this monster."

He just looked at her as she brought her lips up to his. Aurora felt him tense and slowly relax as she deepened it. When they finally pulled away both were panting.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured into her neck.

"Well, that's a shame," she said as she tried to breathe properly. "Because you're the only one who gets to have me…oh," she broke off as a hand slipped up the t-shirt she was wearing. Panic was starting to take over as he heaved off the wall, taking her with him.

"Stop," she breathed, her gaze fixed on his king sized destination.

"You," he said, pulling away from her neck. "Are paranoid."

She rolled her eyes to disguise her hesitancy. He turned around so his back hit the bed and she was merely jostled on top of him. He gave her a wide teeth-shining smile when her breath caught.

"See?" he said, gesturing with his chin his properly placed hands, outside of any clothing. "Paranoid."

She soon went back to sleep beside him and Tristan propped himself up on an elbow to watch her. He couldn't explain the tiny relief he felt each time her chest rose as she took in a breath.

He couldn't avoid comparing her to the girl in the abandoned room. With a deep sigh in an attempt to delete the images from his memory he pulled Aurora closer and tucked her head under his chin. She mumbled something unintelligible as he closed his eyes to further assist the battle to erase the night's events.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair.

Email me for the next chapter. twieveluv(at)yahoo(dot)com

Ma colombe—my dove, as in the bird

Partons quelque part—Let's go somewhere