Author's Note: Please review if you don't find this completely awful. I really do want to hear what you think. If something doesn't work, in your opinion, let me know.


"Henry?" I meant to speak, but as I said his name, I knew it wasn't audible.

He had helped me find this place—a hangout for the older set at school that I didn't know about. As soon as I'd said "sound of gravel," he'd known.

But now, he walked from the room without objection, and a minute later, I heard the slamming of his car door. I hadn't been sure what I was dealing with before then. A pair of sociopaths, I thought. Maybe some drug dealers without consciences that enjoyed torturing girls whenever they passed through a new town.

Susanna's neck had definitely been punctured by something-I assumed it could have been a syringe, carelessly stabbed into her muscle. Or a kind of knife...a poker, really. Cruel, but efficient I guess, if you want to kill someone without an obvious wound. Maybe it was Nik's signature.

The fact that Elijah hadn't tried to deny the violence had contributed to my idea about the brothers. At least I wasn't crazy. Ray was just in a lot of trouble.

But what had he done? Some kind of mind control getting Henry to leave the house. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Elijah…had just held my neighbor by the neck, said one sentence to him, and convinced him to abandon me. Not only that, but he had done it in less than a second. It was as if he knew before Henry came to the door what he was about to do.

Violence was one thing. Kidnapping was another. But what I had just seen: that was another matter entirely. I realized in one breath that I was out of my depth, and I was out of time. I had severely miscalculated something about the situation.

What was he?

What was his brother?

I had been prepared to get seriously hurt by coming here. I had expected Nik to be crazy. But for some reason, I had assumed that the older brother—the one I had talked to about literature, the one that seemed to have so much self-control—wouldn't be an issue. Would perhaps feel bad enough about his brother's behavior to let me collect Ray and get the hell out of there.

Elijah walked towards me again, resuming his spot an arm's length away. He considered me; the same way he had considered Ray when she and Nik were together at the rehearsal. No smile this time. "Your friend Ray is not under my control. I play no part in what Nik has in store for her. You will have to ask him yourself. But I do not send you to her with any hope."

Under his control? I thought. What he has in store for her? They were psychopaths. The air that Nik carried about him, as if he had the authority to do whatever he pleased with whomever he wanted…it came back to me. Elijah's expensive tastes, aloof demeanor. Nik and Elijah behaved like they were gods. And from what had transpired moments ago, they very well could have been.

He held a hand out to me, directing my movement to the staircase in the hallway. Even leading me to my death, he was cordial.

I knew I was crying. I was past plain terror, though. What I felt at that time was resignation. To whatever fate I'd gotten myself into when I stepped through the door. Maybe even when Ray and I had walked into the Darjeeling a day ago. I felt the peace that comes with knowing it's almost over.

The only thing that I had in my control was how soon it happened, and how I reacted. I couldn't read Elijah's expression when he'd assured me I wouldn't remember what would transpire…I had recognized the discomfort he'd betrayed when I asked if I was next. The way he held himself further back from me, made sure not to startle me since.

He was insulted. I'd insinuated that he'd take a liberty with me that was apparently beyond his morals. There was a possibility I could use that.

When the older brother paused at the entrance to the room where Ray was being held—as Nik teased me, calling me to him—I thought I saw a look of reluctance in Elijah's dark eyes. "Nik is rather unpredictable," he said to me.

It struck me as an understatement. And at that moment, when I should have been trembling with fear at the death that awaited me, that awaited my friend, I was angry. "Is that all you have to give me?" I asked. He looked surprised that I had spoken, glanced at the door as if his brother could hear my low voice from inside the bedroom.

"I'm about to die, or watch my friend die—a person I've grown up with, that I've loved—and all you can say is that your bastard of a brother is unpredictable?" I laughed out what was left of the air in my lungs. "Thanks."

I had a feeling that he was used to cleaning up his brother's messes, or tolerating his antics, however gruesome they were.

I thought of Ray, and of all the times I had picked up the pieces after she'd put herself through the emotional ringer with some guy. This was just another one of those times.

Or at least it would have been, had I not pushed into the bedroom and seen my friend, two trails of blood streaming down her throat and onto the floor where they rapidly dripped.

That's when I lost it.

I made to launch across the floor, stayed by a cool touch on my shoulder that should have only hindered me, but unsteadied me enough that I collapsed beneath the weight, the tears I'd been holding in flowing freely at last. "Ray, no!" I couldn't rise—it occurred to me that the older brother was holding me back.

Nik held Ray with one arm, a floppy human-sized doll in the tall blond's grip. In an unreal heartbeat, I connected the red smear around his mouth with that on my friend's neck. The crazy asshole had bitten her; but not only that…he looked…different. My tears clouded my vision as I tried to piece together the shadow that had come over his face, the black irises that replaced his normal icy blue. And the delicate, inch-long fangs that hung gracefully over his tongue and teeth.

"Brother," he said, smiling above the grotesque scene. He licked the blood from his teeth and asked us to join him. "You've just made it in time for cocktail hour."

The word "vampire" rang through my head, bouncing foggily against the things that should have pointed me to that conclusion. Images of puncture marks. Brainwashed neighbor boys. Syringes? Who was I kidding?


"Klaus," Elijah said, stepping in front of the weeping girl. Without his hold on her, she sank even farther onto the floor, a puddle of the brave young woman he'd confronted downstairs. "This is getting tiresome. She's called the authorities; I don't feel the desire to compel more hapless policemen than we have to, tonight."

His brother sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Letting the girl slide to the floor he approached the window. "And the boy," he noted. "Why do they always have to be so gallant?"

Elijah listened as Nor wept gently behind him, steadying her breath, trying to gather herself together as she crawled toward her friend. She had recovered remarkably quickly from her outburst. Klaus turned to survey the scene, a hand massaging his jaw in thought. The girl cleaned the blood from her friend's neck, attempting to see the damage. The crimsoned section of her dress hung limply in her hand when the bite marks were at last cleanly delineated.

In a blink, Klaus was beside the two girls, crouching for a better look. Nor held Ray close to her chest, laid across her knees. "I'm afraid we're going to have to draw our little party to a close, loves." Nor avoided his eyes, jerking her head to the side. She took a breath.

"Take me instead."

"What's that?" Klaus seemed to be genuinely surprised by the offer. Nor repeated herself, crying softly again, though more successfully restrained.

"Take me instead."

Elijah stepped cautiously forward, perturbed by the stupid, yet beautifully humanness of the offer. She would be disappointed, he knew.

She looked up, though still not at Klaus. Her eyes came to rest near the older brother's feet. "She's still alive," Nor said, angry, it seemed, that further explanation was needed. "If you want a girl then take me. Just…make her forget."

Nor let her eyes meet Elijah's for a moment. "You can do that, I saw it. She's…she's not that bloody. Just cover her neck, and tell her to go into the trees." She had to stop, finding words and air to continue. She took another shaking breath. "They can find her later, wandering in the woods. They'll think she had a…a nervous breakdown or something. And then take me." The girl hugged her friend to her chest, pulling her perhaps subconsciously away from the predator in front of them.

Recovering himself, Klaus chuckled. "My dear," he addressed Nor. "We aren't exactly looking for a sacrifice. I am not looking for just any girl. I'm actually quite fond of your friend here." He smiled. "She's been a real pleasure to have around."

"Klaus." His brother's stern voice echoed suddenly in the small chamber. "Do not torture her." Elijah walked to the bloody pile of cloth Nor and Ray were in by the bed. "My patience has reached its end. This petty psychological game holds no purpose but to prolong their terror."

The blond brother rolled his eyes, but rose from his crouch. "That's the point," he said, as if Elijah had entirely missed it. "But you're right, I suppose. There's little fun to be gotten from them now, petrified as they are." He waved his hand nonchalantly, setting the matter aside. "I'll take care of them; you don't have to worry, Brother."

The siblings moved in step towards the girls. "No need, Klaus. I will take it from here," Elijah said good-naturedly. "However, you might like to have a chat with the policemen that have come to investigate." The sound of sirens became evident within seconds of his words. Klaus sighed once again, affecting a sarcastic air.

"Law enforcement: so quick to suspect out-of-towners…" He left the room.


The relief that I felt as Nik exited the room was overwhelming. My shoulders slumped, and I began to hyperventilate again, unhampered by the defensive stance I took for my friend's sake. I almost didn't care what Elijah did to us, because whatever it was, I knew, would be less cruel than whatever his brother had been aiming at. "Miss Donne. Eleanor. I will need you to get up, please."

I found his cool, brown eyes calmly watching me. "Ray," I said. "I—"

"You may leave her." He paused, knowing maybe that I would be more than hesitant to do just that. "We will get her in a moment," he assured me. "I will see to her."

I was so tired, exhausted from the ordeal that must have lasted little more than twenty minutes. So I stood without thinking, my shaking legs making it necessary for the older brother to hold me up with a firm grip on my waist and shoulder.

Deadly serious, he roamed my face with an all-considering gaze that I imagined looked not just at every movement of my features, but into my mind, through my eyes. I think that some part of me knew, even then, that he was listening to my heartbeat, the blood pulsing through my veins along with adrenaline. He said my name—in the same crisp, smooth voice of his that he had maintained throughout the evening, dealing with an incensed teenager or a murderous brother.

"If I let you leave, are you able to take care of your clothing, and that of your friend?" My hearing was indistinct, going in and out as I began to slip into delayed shock. Three cold fingers kept my face trained on his, tilting my chin. I had to blink to bring my concentration to his words. He clarified, noting my fogginess. "There will blood on all of your clothing; if you can't get rid of it before you're seen, it will be extremely suspicious, and you cannot leave it here."

Although the sentence itself wasn't altogether clear in my mind, I understood the gist of it. We needed to clean up before anyone caught us and traced it back to Nik and Elijah. I nodded. "Mm-hm."

His eyes drifted to Ray, lying unnaturally still on the floor. Her neck leaked two weak trails of blood onto the carpet. "Sit," he commanded me, and I was unable to refuse. I don't know if it was merely his insistence or the same power of suggestion that I'd seen him work with Henry. I watched from the edge of the bed as he knelt by my friend, and unhesitant, patiently bit the wrist of his right hand, and held it to her mouth.

Horrified, but oddly resigned to whatever he was doing—he wouldn't make sure I could dispose of our clothes if he wasn't going to let us leave—I waited while my friend slowly came back to consciousness by drinking the blood of a man we had met a day and a half ago. Eventually, swallowing hard, I couldn't restrain myself, and I asked what he was doing.

"You saw my brother had drunk from your friend…have you never wondered what would happen were the reverse to take place?"

"I haven't had the chance to consider before."

He let her head rest on the floor, Ray's breathing finally normal again, her lips stained red. Taking a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, he cleaned his wrist. The pale skin showed no sign of what should have been fresh puncture wounds. "It will help her heal." He said. "She'll show no marks of what Niklaus has done to her. Well, besides her costume, which I am trusting to you."

Reflexively, I glanced at Ray, and below her curly red hair I indeed saw no sign of the two ugly holes Nik had left in her otherwise graceful throat. Her neckline was still red, though, where her blood had dripped while the wounds were open. I looked at myself, recalling my own clothing as if I had awakened from a dream. My hem was bloodied from when I had wiped at her neck. I looked up at Elijah, forgetting to avert my gaze in case he wanted to brainwash me as well as Ray.

I heard the slamming of car doors, and walked to the window of the bedroom, unhindered by my host. Two police cruisers backed slowly out of the drive and, lights unflashing, drove off into the night. Elijah approached me from behind, staying a distance away. I looked down at Henry's truck, where he sat, still under those unearthly orders to wait for me, and he spoke.

"You got a call from Ray, and left to pick her up at a party that had gotten out of hand." He said. "Before you reached her, she had tried to help a drunken boy who had cut himself on a broken bottle." He paused, his eyes returning to Ray for a moment. "He tried to steady himself by grasping her collar. He was…unsuccessful."

He didn't say this to me as a command. I could tell that it was only a suggestion for a story I would evidently, obviously require.

"Let us get her home." Without further comment, he gathered Ray in his arms, raising her as if she weighed less than a bag of flour from the grocery store. Inclining his head, he pointed me to the stairs. Ray began to squirm as we descended, and reaching the bottom step, he gave her to me, setting her gently on her feet. I wrapped her arm around my neck, and got a firm hold of her around the waist, a mockery of the way we sometimes would walk giggling through town.

The door outside had been left open, by an obliging Nik, I thought angrily. I walked my friend to the truck, as Elijah took the opportunity to advance ahead of us, and speak softly to Henry. When Elijah retreated from the window, my neighbor came to life once again, hurrying to open the passenger side door. He grumbled something about "stupid high school parties" and "drunk idiots" when he helped me place Ray between the two of us.

I knew, somehow, that she wouldn't remember anything that happened that night. We pulled out of the rocky driveway, and it was like she really had been at a party that had gotten out of control. Her parents would think she was drunk, I suspected. Just before our tail lights spun around to illuminate the road back home, I saw Elijah, standing stiffly at the doorstep of the crumbling mansion.

And I saw Nik, watching from the window of the same bedroom where he had tried to bleed my friend dry. He must have seen me looking, because in less than a second, he was gone—leaving me unsure if I had really caught him. Just as he disappeared, his brother stayed plainly in sight, raising his chin to see as we drove further away from the house.