"You want to run this by me one more time?" Momo demanded, nearly spitting out his drink. He stared at Kyra from across the breakfast island that separated their kitchen from the living room. The previous evening she had called him for a ride from Malcolm's house. She practically dove into the passenger seat, looking as if she had survived a brush with death. It wasn't until they had gotten home that he saw that her face was bruised and her lower lip was split. She had promised him an explanation in the morning before escaping to her room.

He knew Kyra, he knew that she had a good head on her shoulders and knew what she was doing but that wasn't enough to stop him from worrying about her. She was like family to him, the only family he had in the world and he loved her dearly. He knew that if he had been interested in women he would have been madly in love with her and they probably would have had two kids by now.

In his mind, Kyra was perfect. She was sickly stubborn, sassy with a healthy dose of spunk, but way too naïve and innocent to the world around her.. Kyra was the kind of person that was never too busy for somebody else, always putting her own needs below those around her, kind and honest. She never forgot a person's name or any minor detail about, knowing exactly what to say or do to make them feel like they were the center of the universe. She was wickedly intelligent, absorbing knowledge and information as if it was air. Kyra spoke several languages and could play an instrument she picked up.

She was spectacular.

Kyra sipped on her coffee, fiddling with the mug before setting it down. "Look, he was going to kill him, I just couldn't stand there and let it happen. That vampire is completely innocent, I had to do something."

"But, Ky, if Malcolm finds out that you lied to him he will kill you." He offered, concern weighing his words. She nodded, "I know, that's why I'm going to feed him True Blood until I can figure out a way to get him out of there. It's what any decent person would do."

"No, anybody else would have called the cops and let them sort it out then gone to sleep with a clear conscience. But, as usual, you get yourself involved is something that totally doesn't have anything to do with you."

Kyra moved out of the kitchen, dropping onto an overstuff armchair in the living room, her coffee carefully cradled in her hands. "It's wrong, Momo." He sat on the coffee table, putting a large hand on her knee, "I'm not arguing that, Ky, all I'm saying is that it's dangerous and I'm worried about you. I would lose it if anything were to happen to you. Like rubber room, white jacket lose it. You're the only thing on this horrid little marble that I enjoy."

She smiled at him, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. "I love you too, Momo. But you're not going to guilt me out of doing this. Tonight, after all of my lessons, I need you to pick up some True Blood and to take me there. I will not let him die, Mo, not when I can do something to stop it."

A knock at their door cut off his reply and she let in the first of many music lessons she had scheduled for the day. The small boy wandered into the apartment struggling under a cello that was larger than he was while Kyra chatted with the mother about pick-up times and payments before ushering the boy into the small soundproof music room the he and Kyra had constructed.

He sighed, running a hand over his face before straightening up the kitchen and gathering his workout gear. He was planning on a long intense workout in the complex's gym with the hope of burning off some of this anxiety.

The darkness slowly lifted from Eric's mind as he came back into consciousness. Despite the cleverness of the blood bag last night, Malcolm had nearly drained him a few hours ago; leaving only a trace amount of blood left in his body. Even now, he could feel his body struggling to pump the remaining amount through his system. He knew he wouldn't survive another draining. His hunger was ravenous, his entire being ignited with the demanding urge to feed. Even the thought of a True Blood, as much as he despised them, was enough to make him moan.

Eric heard the front door open, the weak floor boards creaking under light footsteps. There was no hollering, no crazed voices, no loud music or sounds of drinks being opened which meant that his captors hadn't returned.

"Ky, baby girl, light of my life, you know I love you, right?" A strong masculine voice suddenly filled the house, the floor shaking as he stepped into the house.

There was a small pause before she answered, "You're not talking me out of this, Momo, so don't even waste your sweet-talking. You're just annoying me with that nonsense."

"Well, excuse me for trying to make you understand how big of a cluster fuck you managed to get yourself into. The same cluster fuck that you've now drug me into. Hell, we invite one more person and we'll have ourselves a giant nougaty cluster fuck party covered in insanity sprinkles." Momo continued to grouse as the voices slowly moved through the small dwelling.

The basement door let out its usual squealing protest as it was forced open. "Oh my God, Mo, the only reason I brought you along was to do the heavy lifting. Once you're done you can leave. You're hardly involved."

"Great, so I'm nothing more to you than a mule, hauling your contraband." Eric could hear those damned steps threatening to give way as the man began his decent.

"Oh, Momo, you're more than just a mule to me." She offered, "You're also my ride. That's an important job, you know."

"Gee, thanks. You're a bitch, you know that?" Momo stated simply, but the love in his voice betrayed how deeply he cared for her. There was a small scream as a body hit the cement floor. "Holy crap, Ky, are you alright?"

"I hate this freaking place." She snapped, "What the hell did I slip on? You know what? No, I don't want to know. Seriously, who the hell lives this way?"

Something heavy was set on the floor just outside of the door. "Let's just leave then, Ky. You don't have to do this. It's not your responsibility to save this guy."

"Yes it is. What kind of person would I be if I walked away for this?"

"Just like everyone else."

She sighed, "Then everyone is wrong, Momo, this is wrong. What is being done to that man is wrong and I would never be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try to do something about it. And if walking away from someone who is in need and in as much pain as that man is, if that is what it takes for me to be like everyone else, then, I'm sorry, but I'd rather be different.

"Now, I can handle the rest from here. Go ahead a get out of here, Mo. I really don't want you anymore involved in this." She slowly drug whatever it was in front of the door out of the way before it was forced open. "This stupid bucket weighs a ton. Just how much did you buy?"

The single bare light bulb hanging above Eric's head flickered into life as delicate footsteps wandered into the cell dragging something behind her. "Holy Mary mother of God," the man exclaimed as he took in the heinous scene.

"Don't stare," she stated over her shoulder. "You're being rude. Get your gorilla butt over here and help me lift this thing. I think the bottom shelf is broken."

Momo edged his way along the side, keeping the vampire in his sights. It tracked him as he moved, following his progression with predatorily accuracy. Even though the vampire's eyes were covered, Momo had no doubt that his gaze were fixed on him. Slowly, the vampire's attention shifted to Kyra as she struggled to lift the twenty gallon drum he had brought from work. He wanted to take her away from this dank chamber, away from the danger it was exuding.

"Here," he said, his hands gently pushing hers away from the handle, his gaze still locked on the vampire. "Let me." The shelving unit creaked, swaying dangerously under the new weight but eventually settled.

Kyra wiped her hand on her jeans before shoving a stray curling strand of hair from her face. "You had better take off before Malcolm and the others show back up." She suggested, "I'll call for a cab later."

"Ky," He started but she cut him off with a tight smile, "Momo, honey, go." He exhaled heavily before pressing a kiss against her cheek. "Call me and I'll come and get you, don't call a cab, call me. Stay safe, baby girl."

Momo walked out, pausing at the door to glance back. Kyra was leaning against the wall, twisting her fingers. She looked so unsure, but he knew her well enough to know there was no talking her out of this. Even if it killed her, she was going to help that creature. He closed his eyes, turning away and walking back upstairs, praying the entire way. Because only God and his angels were all that could save his Kyra now.

Kyra didn't move until she heard the front door shut. Suddenly alone, in this tiny room, the vampire seemed larger than life. She turned away for a moment, snapping the lid off of the barrel to pull one of the many bottles of True Blood out. A smile fluttered across her lips when her fingers brushed against a pile of straws. Momo, as always, had thought of everything.

She cracked open the bottle, tossing the cap back inside the barrel before making sure the lid was shut tightly. "Mr. Vampire, sir," She said hesitantly, setting the bottle on top of the dryer. "I have some True Blood, I'm sure that you're starving."

He didn't respond, didn't move and it unnerved her. She knew the basics of vampires but nothing could have prepared her for this. It was as if she was talking to a corpse, a terrifyingly powerful, hungering corpse. She should have been scared, but she just wasn't. All she felt was the overwhelming need to save him.

His hunger assaulted her, his rage and pain slamming against her like physical blows. Kyra also felt as his great strength seeped out of him, weakness and frailty taking its place. She could feel him dying.

She wanted to free him, to let loose those horrid chains but he was so weak she was certain he wouldn't survive if she had. No, she needed to wait until Malcolm and the others left for Dallas in a few weeks, and then there would be enough time for her to get help and for him to regain his strength before Malcolm came for him again. She just needed to keep him alive for a few more weeks.

Kyra moved slowly forward, continuing to talk in a low, gentle voice; as if she were comforting a child. "I'm going to take the gag out, okay?" Her fingers brushed his cheek. He yanked away with a snarl, the chains rattled as his flesh burned.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "I'm sorry. I-I don't see very well, the light in here is really bad. Trust me; I'm not trying to take advantage of you." Kyra pulled the rag from his mouth, wrinkling her nose at its horrid smell. She tossed it into the corner behind the water heater. His fangs were out and she knew, by his snarling breaths, that he wanted to sink them into her.

"I'm, um, I'm going to take the blindfold off too, okay? I can't leave it off but while it's just the two of us it'll be alright. I know you don't want me touching you but bear with me until I get it off then I'll back up and give you some space." She waited until he gave the slightest of nods before trailing the tips of her fingers along his face until they brushed the rough burlap cloth. With extreme tenderness she slipped off of him, before retreating.

Eric hissed as the minimal light blinded him, making bloody tears well in his eyes. He focused on the cracked, caving cement floor until the bursts of light faded from his vision. Slowly, he raised his gaze until it found her.

He had expected her to be a copy of the girl from his bar, the whore that had started all of this, being that they were related; but he was surprised to find that she looked nothing like her cousin. She was a few inches shorter, lithe and athletic with lush curves that her rail thin cousin didn't possess.

Her hair was loose curls that hung to her waist and was the color of dark wine. Three scars marred the right side of her face, running from her hairline before curling beneath her jaw. The silvery imperfections blaringly noticeable against her sun kissed skin that seemed to glow in the weak light as sweeping cheek bones and full blush colored lips enhanced an already ethereal face. Her gray eyes seemed to swirl like pale smoke caught behind glass, as she stared back at him; absentmindedly brushing at a few persistent stray curls that continuously fell over her eyes.

Eric had seen far more beautiful women in his long existence but there was something about this girl demanded attention, something that wouldn't be ignored. He had expected her to be cowering, that her pervious courage would abandon her in the face of his wrath; but she wasn't, instead she stood calmly, regarding him silently. He could smell no fear from her, no terror; instead all he could smell was a drugging mixture of vanilla and cinnamon.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, delicate fingers sliding around the bottle. "I have a bottle of True Blood if you want it. Its O negative, the clerk at the convenience store said it was the most popular. I hope that's okay because I think Momo said he bought like six packs or something like that."

He watched, unblinkingly, as she moved towards him with an almost feline grace; her steps slow, virtually measured as if she was uncertain where exactly where he was. The toe of her sneaker brushed the leg of the chair, her fingers skimming his arm before she raised the straw to his lips.

His senses exploded at the smell of the synthetic blood until his fangs throbbed. The embarrassment of being fed like a child didn't stall his reaction; he latched onto that absurd little straw. It tasted like ashes in his mouth but Eric didn't care, swallowing it down as quickly as he could. He drained three bottles until his debilitating hunger eased. Eric felt a small percent of his vigor returning to him when he finally leaned back, exhaling unnecessarily.

She stepped back, sliding the third empty bottle into the barrel, sliding the lid back in place before leaning against the dryer. "Feeling a little better?"

"I would feel a lot better without the chains." It was the first time he had spoken and his voice was deep and rich, the smallest hint of an accent coloring the words, so smooth, like dark chocolate, it sent sparks flaring down her spine and into her veins. No one should be allowed to possess a voice like that.

"You know I can't do that. I really want to but-"

Eric snarled at her, "You fucking bitch! You think you're so different, so much better than they are but you're not. I will rip you apart just to watch you bleed."

Her eyes flared, darkening until they looked like storm clouds. "Okay, first, Mr. scary vampire killer, don't compare me to those degenerates, that's not nice. Secondly, I promised I would get you out of here alive and I fully intend to keep my word. If you had let me finish before rudely threatening maiming, I would have told you that in your current state you're too weak to get away from them even if you were to drain me. I need help to get you out of here and I refuse to get Momo involved in this; so, I was hoping that you had some friends, but that hope was pretty much dashed by that charming display of personality."

She exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Malcolm and the others are leaving for Dallas in a little over two weeks with your blood. They're making a huge deal about it and everyone is going. They'll be gone long enough that I can get you out of here and you'll have time to regain your strength so you'll be ready when they come for you. And they will. Give me a little time, and I will get you out of here."

"Two weeks." Eric agreed.