She ran her fingers along his neck, caressing his pulse in silky fingers. "Are you afraid?" she murmured softly.

The skin under his fingers rippled as he swallowed. Finally, he answered in a soft, ragged voice, "Do as you want." There was a pause, then he said tiredly, "I can't fight anymore."

She leaned closer, brushing back his damp, filthy hair. "You've lost your will? And you, a son of Vida?" She laughed. "I'd thought I'd never see the day."

His hazel eyes fixed on hers, weary and hopeless. He didn't reply.

She laughed softly, running her fingers down his arm. The limb was white and chalky, useless, numerous scars lining it. In order to keep him alive on his constantly decreasing blood supply, his body had withdrawn blood from the limbs and circled it constantly in his torso and head. His eyes watched her, waiting patiently for her next move. He had given up.

"You used to fight me, David," she said quietly. "Where has all the magic gone? All the fighting? All the swearing?"

His gaze dropped. Her fingers crept around his wrist, feeling the sores under the manacles. He had dislocated his wrists twice struggling to break free. His ankles…she looked at them and whistled softly, a whistle of admiration. The skin around them was split open, infected, the chains hugging the swollen skin tightly. Flies had already landed, and maggots played in the dead flesh. "All of it's gone now," she remarked, her voice soft and wistful.

She turned back to him, seeing the bleak expression on his face. "My poor David," she said gently, returning her touch to his face, sliding her nails delicately across his skin. He shuddered under her touch, closing his eyes.

Gently, almost lovingly, she lowered her head to his neck.

The skin split open easily under her questing fangs, and the blood, still sweet and rich with Vida magic, seeped into her tongue like water into the desert. She let out a soft, involuntary moan of ecstacy, drinking it in.

Her grip on his shoulder was firm, strong. He twisted slightly, the prey instinct still there. She lifted her head, eyes dark with bloodlust. "And the fight's gone, David?" she whispered, her voice thick.

He lifted his head off the ground slightly, looking deep into her vampiric face, beautiful and endowed with a hunter's savage grace. His head dropped, and he closed his eyes.

She laughed, a deep, throaty sound. "Very wise."

She pressed herself closer to this man, her prey. Choosing another point of entry, she lowered her head once more.

His memories flooded her mind, as they so often did when she killed. She savored every one of them as she savored his blood, drinking in the thoughts and recollections of this man—David Vida, husband of Dominique Vida, father of Adianna and Sarah Vida—the women of David's life showed as powerful, independent creatures, bright and vivid in his memories. The memories brought her into the world of vampire hunters, hunters every bit as savage as she was. The thought was intoxicating. She breathed, heady with the scent.

His body convulsed under her, the pulse growing erratic as the heart struggled to keep on beating. She kept her grip on his shoulder firm, locking him into place. He gave one last shudder, and he died, the pulse under her lips slowing to a halt.

Satisfied, she closed her eyes and slept, an arm wrapped around his dead body. They looked for all the world like two contented lovers.

Oneshot. I was reading Shattered Mirror again and was inspired in a fit of insanity to write this. So, what do you think? Press the pretty purple button and review!