"Ah it's good to be back with the Cirque." Larten said.
Reiko nodded, and sat down heavily.
"Reiko...it has been too long." Larten handed her a goblet filled to the brim.
Reiko stood, leaning against him, and he held her in his arms as she drank the blood-laced wine. The feeling of utter satisfaction washed through her, and Reiko spun and kissed the older vampire, blood still on her lips.
Larten, though surprised, returned the kiss and stroked her hair. He knew that though Reiko may appear to be a child, she was in truth an adult.
This was apparent by the way she spoke and acted, as well as by the way she dressed. They were able to relate in a big way.
"What will you do for your sister?" Larten asked, hands busy skittering over her concealing clothing.
"She must drink the wine before the moon is full, or she will die." Reiko said. "Don't worry. I am good at tricks."
Xxx
"Darren." Reiko said. "This is nectar; for Kuri's cough. Could you give it to her?"
"Um...ok. Guess you two are still fighting?" Darren said.
"She's very angry, but she needs her medicine." Reiko said. "Can you handle it?"
"Sure!" Darren beamed at her.
He took the sealed bottle to Kuri.
"What's that?" Kuri asked.
"Oh its just something Truska gave me. Supposed to help with a cough." Darren lied, knowing she wouldnt take it if it came from her sister.
Kuri took it and drank. It was heavenly! The taste, and it made her feel so strong and...and brave!
Kuri dropped the bottle and gripped Darren by the waist, kissing him.
He jerked back, recognizing the taste on her lips even if she did not.
"Blood!"
Xxx
Kiana ran through the shadows. She didn't need to worry about being caught, humans were much stupider than her now. She ran into a man on the street.
"Watch it!" he said.
She hissed and stared into his eyes. He was hypnotized and under her control.
"Walk to that back alley and sit down."
The man did as Kiana said. Her eyes were filled with hunger. They were a bright red. She moved in on him at an inhuman speed and devoured him, draining him dry.
Suddenly she stopped, sensing another presence, and hissed, pulling her victim close, possessively.
"Kiana?!" Kurda Shmalt stood there, watching her, eyes taking in the gore she had created, what she had become.
Her eyes had gone red.
Her tattoo had gone red.
And she was always, always, covered in blood.
"Let me help you!" Kurda cried.
"I don't want to be helped!" Kiana hissed.