Ok. I lied about the hiatus, I actually have more time that I thought! Probly two more chapters after this one. Enjoy! I hate having "new" characters without ever developing them….so here's a little insight into Adrian.

It had been almost seven days since the last few reserves of blood had gone dry.

Adrian had actually been improving remarkably and was no longer walking unsteadily. His abdomen was still extremely tender and he still hadn't found a way to keep the wound from draining all over whatever shirt he was wearing….it looked rather like he went around with a watery spaghetti-sauce stain on his stomach….but at least he was alive. He was just psychologically a mess. His sister, Tara, had been out with the rest when they had attempted a break through. For the first few hours after the small band had left, he had paced and cried, knowing full well what was going to happen. Now the grief had settled down to a smoking simmer. He still paced, but not with the same fury or desperation as before. His gait was slow and uncertain, almost hopeless. He didn't even bother to return the only-barely subtle glances of the Boys as he passed by and they unconsciously licked their lips. They were hungry, and he was looking better with each passing hour. But he didn't care. He had resigned himself to the fact that if it came down to it, he didn't stand a chance against four of them. Five, including Cate. It was almost an acceptance, the kind of submission a deer feels as it sees the hunter's bow drawn taut. There was no escape, either outside the walls or within them.

He sat by himself in the hall at one of the larger tables, his lean arms outstretched on the worn wood, and forehead down. It was dark, ominously quiet. There were no more voices, no more discussions, no more comforting scents of people he knew. Once in a while, even though he knew he would recognize nothing, he concentrated to the best of his abilities and tried to pick up anyone. The only smells were stale, cold. Dead. He was sitting next to Tara's seat at the table, and every now and then, a tiny spark of her presence entered his mind. It was all imagination, true. It wasn't comforting, it was maddening. It was like being dropped into a separate universe where everything looked the same, but the people in it had gone mad. Both he and Tara had been picked up by Daniel as a pair of scruffy youngsters eking out a living in the rural countryside of Denmark. It was a rough, cold country, and the two were near starvation by the time they were happened upon. Two scraggly children with wild dark hair and blue eues. He had been only twelve, Tara nine, and neither had any memory of family or life prior to each other. It was a fierce bond between them, once that never diminished even as they were slowly reintroduced back into human society. She had been even quieter than he, even softer, without the witty repartee and falsely-confident bearing that he used to keep any would-be enemies at bay. She had never grown up.

Adrian snorted unhappily, feeling his breath come back into his nose from against the table. It smelled wet and snuffly, like someone had thrown him out in the rain. Tara had flourished under Daniel and Rita's gentle hand, and had even been beginning to smile by the time she turned fifteen. He had been almost painfully proud of her. The boys in the clan had even begun to notice her, and rather than feeling jealous or protective, he had been ecstatic. They were all great guys and he knew that she was in desperate need of a stable male presence in her life besides her brother. Especially when her brother's affections were drawn elsewhere. Drawn? More like wrenched with the strength of a thousand stampeding horss.

He had been seventeen and just starting to take his place as a newly christened hunter when Cate and Tobias were brought into the clan. He was scarcely able to take in the whispered story of kidnapping, torture, and everything else that had happened… His breath choked itself in his lungs, his eyes were unable to even blink. The icily beautiful girl of barely sixteen stopped his heart right in his chest like he had been hit with a thousand volts of electricity. Whether she had known at the time, he wasn't sure. All he knew was for the next two years he would have jumped in front of a speeding train if she had but nodded her head in that direction. They were both young, and he was still quite aware of his…condition, as Daniel always delicately put it. Friendships were of course encouraged between humans and non-humans, but relationships beyond that were considered dangerous ground. He never made eye contact with her, never touched her, always carefully positioned himself forward and with his hands in his pockets so that if she were to look at him, she couldn't see the line of fur running down his spine or the slight sheaths of his claws which were still apparent even in human form. Adrian had always been soft when it came to girls. Most of the young men teased or flirted, but he was never able to summon up his confidence in that direction. Tara even teased him about being a hopeless romantic. Her favorite terms of it was "puppy lover" to which he couldn't help but smile himself. Then was one day he was careless and forgot that Cate was behind him. He was adjusting the tautness of his crossbow string and felt a slight tug at his topline around the base of his neck and froze. Turning around slowly, he only barely managed to lift his eyes up to meet hers. She was so beautiful, he was afraid he would pass out.

Literally pass out, hit the deck, and be the laughingstock of the entire clan. But he hadn't.

He didn't even remember what she had said next to him. All he remembered was that was the first time she had even touched him, ever fully looked at him, and from then on it was all-in, heads-first love. Past infatuation, past anything he had ever felt before. Someone actually willing to look past what he was. It had lasted two years. It was the little things that had driven him absolutely mad with affection. The way she lowered her eyes when she was thinking, the was she played with his hair, the way he knew he was the only person who could actually make her smile, the way she kissed….especially, especially the way she kissed.

Around her, he didn't have to be the best, the bravest, the strongest, the handsomest (he wasn't any of them, he though ruefully. He was a lean-looking young man with sharp features, a bone structure that only a girl would envy, eyes that were just the right shade of pale blue to make people feel uncomfortable, and an unfortunate penchant for being softhearted). He only had to be Adrian. And that was what she wanted.

Two years. It didn't seem like it had been that long. Daniel had even been hinting that he had better start thinking of finding a ring. But for some reason, Cate suddenly began to balk. He never figured out why, but she distanced herself with alarming speed over the next few months. He begged, pleaded, said things he never would have ever though he would be capable of saying…but she was firm. And that was where it ended. He tried to convince himself it was because of who and what he was. Who could tolerate being with a beast….It was easier to blame it on something he himself did, that to trey and figure out what had been going through her head. In his mind, she was perfect. Absolutely perfect. It must have been something he did. To this day, he still didn't know what it had been. And then there was David. Damn it all, he couldn't hate the guy. David was exactly the kind of person Cate should be with. Someone who could match her in every way, including the darker ones.

Adrian pressed his forehead harder into the table, the grainy wood making slight impressions in his dehydrated skin.

He wasn't as cold as David.

He wasn't as tough as David.

Wasn't as strong, wasn't as magnetic, wasn't as masculine…..the list when on and on….

In fact, he felt rather inferior in every way possible.

Despite it all, he still couldn't hate him. He was what Cate needed, what she wanted, and it killed him to tell it to himself over and over…but it was true. Why am I thinking about her when I should be thinking about Tara….he chided himself, feeling a tear spring to his eyes. Sometimes, he hated how he couldn't emotionally stand his ground like so many of the others did. He could fight and kill with the best of them, but when it came to things like his, his heart was like candlewax. One flame and it would melt and be molded by anyone into anything. When he had been younger, he supposed it was charming. But now…now he didn't know what it was. There was no place for emotion now. A single hot tear fell from his eye and he snuffled, embarrassed. Sometimes he hated being this way. It wasn't his fault he had grown up with only a sister. Maybe it made him weaker, maybe it channeled his emotions along a more feminine path, but whatever it had done, it was times like these when he felt ashamed of what he was.

A strangled noise forced its way from his lips, like a suppressed whine, a dog that had just been kicked and was looking for redemption. But it wasn't held down for long. The muscles in his neck tensed as he opened his throat, letting the noise and all of the rage, fear, and self-hatred that came with it out to reverberate around the deserted room. It became a raging, high-pitched howl, filling the dead space of the high ceiling as long as there was breath in his lungs.

Outside, Lath's hounds put their ears back and growled to each other. They recognized the sound, and it wasn't one they liked. The howl of a wounded animal, a lone wolf with a broken leg feverishly keeping the rest of the hungry pack off. Something was going to happen soon. Even they could sense it.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Cate felt incredibly nauseous, and from the looks of things, the others weren't doing much better. Paul had whined for the first three days, but after that even he got to the point where misery isn't alleviated by complaining. He was now moping around the house with Marko, who was trying to convince himself that if he looked hard enough, he might find a rat somewhere among the food stores. Dwayne had stopped speaking almost entirely but was generally still composed, while David seemed to be in a constant state of quiet rage. His limp had become painfully obvious, and he was aware it made him a target. Cate had forgotten about that. Now she was sure it would come down to her and Dwayne. Not something she wanted to think about particularly. It seemed hopeless, and the growling in the pit of her stomach didn't help convince her there was a way out. Either stay in here and die, or go out there and die. Going out and dying quickly was almost beginning to seem like a good idea.

Marko had shyly passed her a small flask that evening, and slipped back out of her room before she had a chance to ask him what it was. Unscrewing the top and putting it to her nose, she realized, with amazement, that it was blood. Not very much, but where had he gotten it? She smelled it deeper and recognized it. Looks like the Boys had taken up a collection….she wasn't sure if she should feel flattered or not. It was both a way of asking her to bond with them, as well as being chivalrous and trying to ease her discomfort. What the hell, she liked them anyways and was already undead…might as well, she thought. Ha ha…this is great….eau de Lost Boys. Base notes of leather and wood, that's Dwayne, with a middle ripple of a sort of sharp grassiness, that's Paul. A bit of a light, ocean-y smell, Marko, and topped off with the unmistakeable black-pepper scent of David, which she knew almost too well. It still made her eyes water slightly when she really took it in. They should market it. Her hunger made her giggle deliriously, but she drank it anyway.

"Enjoy?"

David was leaning against the doorway, lopsided smirk already in place. Pushing off the wood with his shoulder, he sauntered over to the bed and flopped down on his back with a grunt. Her fingers moved to the inside of his bad knee and began gently massaging and probing the damaged tendons. "Thanks. Tell the guys thanks too. Feels bad?"

He didn't reply, only stretched his body out like a cat in the sun, as if to indicate that she should keep going. His skin was deathly cold to her touch. Having just drank, her own temperature had risen back up to an almost human level, and it felt like touching metal in January. She moved her hand ever so slowly up along his inner thigh and he let out a growl of satisfaction that softened in pitch until it was almost a purr. Emboldened by the warmth flushing through her system, she only had to glance at the door to cause it to swing shut with a crack. David's eyes opened halfway "When did you learn to do that?"

"Practicing. There isn't very much to do around here now, is there?"

"Clever."

Now having some privacy, she gracefully slid over and lay down on top of him, putting her knees on either side of his hips and pressing her chest against his. Even through his clothes she could feel the chill of his skin. It was strangely sensual. His hands came up under her shirt and rested on her lower back, giving her momentary goosebumps. But David's mind wasn't completely focused. The vision of her simply looking at the door and having it slam shut bothered him slightly. She was progressing far more quickly than any of them had. He wasn't sure if it was because of something in her human bloodline or….well, if she was just well-suited to the change. He felt her mouth moved to his neck and tried to concentrate on enjoying the warmth of her body. He has kept his hunger in check the past week, although at times he had felt like taking a bite out of anything moving that passed by. Her presence was a welcome distraction. He tried to move his hands and realized that she was holding him in place. What? He tried again…but a thrill of shocks coursed through his wrists from her mind, as if to say "oh no you don't". At any other time, he would have found this a nice little game. Restraint and the like had become, well, for lack of a better word, popular in their sexual relationship. But this time, he actually felt a tiny twist of fear in his chest. He tried to tap into the bond and couldn't. Her thoughts were disorganized, messy, chaotic, and his voice couldn't get through.

It was at that second that he felt her fangs drive into the side of his neck. With a gasping intake of breath, his eyes rolled back in his head. She could have taken a two by four to the side of his head and it wouldn't have been half as unexpected. His first instinct was that of a trapped animal.

FIGHT.

She didn't know what she was doing. The bond was screaming with bloodlust. Whether she had meant to bite or not, it didn't matter now. She was both unable and unwilling to stop, and that meant he was under thirty seconds away from death.

Holy shit, fight her.

He clawed at the side of her body in vain. Her mental hold was too strong and his struggles were confined to mere jerks. Too strong even for him. Terror gripped him as he came to the stunning, but blatantly obvious realization that he had made a mistake.

David has made a mistake….

He had underestimated her. She had surpassed him, and now he was realizing by just how far. How could he have missed this?

"Cate" he tried to choke out but the words didn't come. He fought the wave of numbness that was coming over him. It was so inviting. So….calm. It bore down on him so quickly that his efforts quickly subsided.

"Oh God…" he tried to focus his eyes but couldn't. His vision was dark. The feeling was one of complete….rapture? Acceptance? Submission? He wasn't sure, but as it seeped into every crack in his psyche, he realized it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, really. Everything felt so wonderful now, he didn't understand why he had been fighting and struggling only a minute ago. There was a dim scream and a funny feeling of pressure at his neck…not pain, as his nerves were thoroughly dulled into a state of acceptance, but on odd, wrenching pull. But by the time the feeling registered in his head, the last sparks of consciousness were already fading. It was beautiful. His muscles relaxed completely and the brilliance of his dark blue eyes faded to a filmy cobalt gray, like a sky just about to rain, and David accepted the calming, almost humbling numbness that finally caused the world around him to go black.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"GET HER THE FUCK OFF!" A frantic Paul was screaming at Dwayne and Marko, trying to reach in and grab a hold to lend his own strength to the effort. It was pure luck, and not a moment too soon, that they had been passing by. Paul had walked on by completely unaware, his head bobbing along in time to the stone-aged tape player and headphones he had dug out of the backpack lashed to his bike. Marko had been the first to notice the scene in the room. Not being one to press in other people's business, especially David's, he sturdily ignored the pull of the mental bond between them as he passed. The door was closed, it wasn't his business, and he sure wasn't about to play psychic peeping tom on that was going on inside. But it was a sharp pang on panic that screamed like a bullet through the air from David's mind to his that caused him to pause, knock, and when no answer was received, go in. David was out cold, completely limp, and it was taking all of them to pull a ravenous Cate away from his neck. Her strength was amazing.

It was the strength of a frenzied, starving animal being dragged away from the only meal it had seen in months. Dwayne finally managed a clean shot and gave her a tremendous blow about the head. She dropped the ground immediately, her golden eyes flickering and rolling back in her head.

But that was all he could do. As Marko and Paul rushed to David, frantically trying to bring him back to conciousness "David! David! Marko, is he breathing?" "Yeah he's breathing but holy Jesus, Paul, what do we do?" "I don't know just…just…just get him up on the bed or something! Oh man…." , all he could do was stare at the senseless form on the ground in front of him.

This was it, the time for waiting was over.

They needed to get out. Now.