Dreams Chapter 2, a companions of the night fanfic

Dreams

Chapter 2

A/N: Finally, the next chapter. This is definitely the beginning of the story having an M rating. I'm trying to keep it below an NC-17 rating, but I believe that the common 15 yr old has seen/heard/read things worse than this. If not, be aware that when the story changes to ITALICS, the story is probably turning more mature. A note about how frequently I'll be updating from here on in: I am in the process of doing my Masters degree in Library and Information Studies and the workload is iiiiiinsane. That doesn't mean I won't be writing – because I'll try – only that I'm a poor stressed student, so I appreciate any encouragement or love you may send my way.

Without further adieu, chapter 2:

x.x.x

I was sitting in the common room of my dorm house, banished from my room by a horny roommate and her twenty five year old boyfriend with the mental capacity of a six year old. It was immediately evident to me that this guy was going no where, hinted at by the fact that he was seven years older than we were and his best option of getting laid was in a shared bedroom with single beds. Mom and dad must not like overnight company. I had watched television for a while, but after midnight I started to become concerned by the idea that the noise might wake someone up. I wasn't usually considerate, but living with thirty other majorly stressed out students who would throw textbooks and cruel snipes when crossed gave new perspective to a girl.

I was looking out the window when he entered the room, all swagger of the recently laid. I stared at him for a moment, mouth opened wide, and he stared back at me.

"Well, well," he said with a smirk, sitting beside me. "If it isn't little Miss Kerry Nowicki."

"And apparently the big bad wolf."

His smirk got more mocking. "And what are you doing in this neck of the woods, little girl?"

"I live in this neck of the woods. You remember what that means, right? Living?" I sniped. It must have been the 'little miss' and 'little girl', or maybe just the stress that made up my life. He was lucky no textbooks were at hand.

"Ooooh, ouch," he complained, putting a hand over his slowly beating heart. "That hits me right here."

"You still have a heart?"

"Betray any men you think you're in love with recently? Maybe that's why you're still a virgin." He smirked again. This verbal one-upmanship was getting out of control. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

And that's why I kissed him, getting my hands into his luscious long dark hair and anchoring both of us in place. My lips were demanding against his, forcing him to open his mouth so my tongue could explore his, teasing along the points of his teeth with tantalizing strokes that elicited a moan as he forced me back against the hard wooden arm of the cheap dorm couch. I didn't notice. He tasted of cheap beer and mints and the underlying tang of another woman's blood. His hand stroked over my breast and I pushed up against him, moving us both back into a sitting position. I straddled his hips, gently biting his tongue as I rubbed myself against him.

"Maybe," he hissed later as I rode him. "Not a virgin anymore."

And all I had wanted was to get him to stop smirking at me.

x.x.x

Kerry sat at her desk in the morning, staring at the picture of Michel she hadn't put back into the newspaper folder, and then the storage archives, yet. Nelle was sometimes right, Kerry mused, if she had cleaned her desk the night before, she wouldn't have been subjected to his pretty face so early in the morning. She knew that for the next twenty four hours he would be smiling at her everywhere, as he was plastered on the front page of the Tribune. That image was grainy; the original was a candid shot of him talking to a girl taken before digital cameras became the norm so that the date stamp was across the bottom corner. It had been taken six months before they met.

It didn't seem odd that he looked exactly the same here as he had when she had met him, and yet at the same time she was thrown by the SUNY Brockport sweater he had on. It brought back all the emotions she felt when she first saw him: terror, inquisitiveness, and a surprising rush of attraction. She also felt affection for him, looking so normal and candid in the shot, not knowing that it would be forever immortalized in print for thousands to see. The only favour she could do for him was to make sure it didn't end up online, at least as far as she could control something like that.

"Is that Ethan Bryne?" Nelle asked, looking over Kerry's shoulder. "It's a shame; he would have been such a good looking man."

For a flash of a moment, Kerry felt anger for Michel. "He's good looking here," Kerry defended, shaking the picture for emphasis.

"Good looking?" Nelle leered. "Heck, look at those shoulders and that grin. He's a definite ten, if a little young for my current tastes. He was probably amazing in bed, unless he's one of those guys who thinks that because he's hot he doesn't have to work for it." Nelle looked at the picture suspiciously.

"Oh God no," Kerry breathed. "He was at least a twelve."

Nelle gave her an odd, piercing look. "You're being oddly generous. You've only ever given Luke a nine, and that was because he accidentally did that thing that one time with the—"

Kerry blushed, grabbing the picture of Michel away from Nelle's prying fingers. "I'm being considerate to the fact he can no longer prove himself worthy."

"Nah uh, girl. You're totally speaking from the voice of experience. Is he the one?"

Kerry gave Nelle a wide-eyed look of surprise. "The one?"

"Yeah. The one who popped your cherry, who you lost your virginity to, you know, the first."

"Sure," Kerry said sarcastically. "He was the best sex of my life."

Nelle tapped her finger against her lip as though she were thinking of something. "I thought college-boy was the best sex of your life."

The irony that they were actually talking about the same person wasn't lost on Kerry. "He was. Now will you let me get to work?"

.x.x.x.

"Go long," Kerry gestured with one hand, directing Luke to step backwards a few feet. He complied with a sceptical look on his face, not moving as far as he would have if she were one of his guy friends. The feminist in Kerry bristled at the realization he thought she was weaker than Kevin, or Joe, or whatever other great American football player he tossed the ball around with on weekends, but the realistic side of her realized that there was no way she was making the throw at the current distance between them.

Kerry tried anyway. The football arched through the air, missing her target by a meter and ricocheting off the ground, bouncing into Luke's stomach. He grunted, curling his arms around the ball to catch it. Kerry was eighty-five percent sure she didn't throw hard enough to leave a bruise, let alone really hurt him.

"I'll get you for that!" Luke threatened with a grin on his face as he held the ball in one hand and pointed it at her. "You're in trouble now."

Kerry took a step back, knowing that he could throw way harder than her. Her back hit against the low hanging branches of park foliage behind her, and she was so startled by the sudden sensation of what felt like fingers running across her back, she almost jumped. Distracted, she didn't see the ball coming towards her until it was soaring over her head. Kerry made a cursory attempt to catch it, jumping half-assed into the air with her arms stretched above her head, but she missed completely. Somewhere in the trees behind her, the ball crashed through leaves and came to a stop. Kerry looked behind her and then turned to Luke with a sheepish look on her face. "Did you really expect me to catch that?" she asked.

He smirked.

Kerry took that as a no, figuring that at least she had good reason not to make the catch: Luke had thrown something which was almost impossible for her to reach in time, unless she had been star quarterback in high school like he had been. "I'll get you back for that," Kerry threatened, causing his grin to get wider.

She turned her back on him, unable to watch the way his mouth taunted her. Facing the brush in the park, she hesitated before taking a step in, her eyes scanning the woods for spiders. Dusk was breaking in the open area of the park, but among the trees it was pitch black as night. Kerry inhaled, strangely afraid to step out of the safety of the wide open space and into a place that looked like it could hide more than mere spiders. She took a quick glance back at Luke and sucked up her reluctance, stepping into the woods with her eyes strained for the ball.

Kerry managed to wander a few meters in, her phone clutched in her hand with the display light shining the way. She couldn't find the darn football. A branch brushed against the back of her neck and she stifled a shriek, berating herself for being such a wuss. There was some feeling she couldn't identify warning her away. Her intuition was screaming danger and she couldn't shake the idea she was being watched. "I can't find it!" she called out to Luke, knowing he was still in earshot though she had lost sight of him steps ago.

Freezing, Kerry listened to the noises around her. She wasn't imagining it: leaves had definitely rustled unnaturally from somewhere on her right.

"Luke?" Kerry called out.

"Right here babe," he responded from the left, branches parting as he joined her. The noise of his approach completely overshadowed the small noise she had heard from the opposite direction. "I found the ball."

"Great," Kerry said, looping her hand through his strong arm and smiling. "I was just about to suggest we leave it here overnight and come find it tomorrow once the light returns."

"Naw," he said as he held a branch aside for her. Kerry stepped back into the field, noting that it was full night now and that the overhead lamps illuminated the heavily used paths. She moved towards the parked car, unwittingly staring back into the woods as she walked. Something, she felt, was still there.

x.x.x

I emerged from the campus library later than I intended, taking the quickest route back to my dorm. It cut through a wooded area that was completely charming in the daylight but at night it was a breeding ground for students getting laid away from the prying eyes of their roommates, and druggies taking a quick toke or buying a baggie of the newest uppers. I've been going to this school for almost two years and I had never heard of any accounts of people getting attacked in the area, but there was a first time for everything.

Naturally, I was tense to be in a badly lit area with the possibility of someone crazed on drugs attacking me, but there was no way I was taking the long way around. In about five minutes I had a date with a guy, a normal college student who worked in the library part time and sometimes tucked his shirt into his pants. There was no way I was missing a chance to experience what it was like to actually go on a date with someone who was alive. Michel, the last guy I had "dated" had only been good for a quick fuck, and though I hadn't seen him in months, he was always on my mind.

I started as bushes rustles on my left. Immediately, I curled my fingers around my phone, not for the purpose of calling someone, which might actually be the smartest thing I could do at the moment, but instead to give some strength behind my fist. My self defence instructor had always said that if you were going to punch someone, you better do it as forcefully as possible in the first try because you might not get a second chance. I was pretty confident I could take whoever it was, even if the chances were good I was about to stumble over a couple emerging from the trees with moss in their hair.

I was wrong. If I hadn't been carefully listening to my surroundings I never would have noticed as someone stepped behind me. It wasn't much warning before a hand clamped around my shoulder, turning me around so that I stumbled. I tried to drag my hand out of my jacket pocket but it got caught on the flap. I ripped it free, swinging with as much strength as I had.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, stepping backwards quicker than the human eye could comprehend. Strangely enough, this made me relax and shove my phone back in my pocket. The relief was not long-lived, however, because shortly after I became furious.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, shoving both my hands into the pockets of my jacket and staring at him hostilely. I couldn't see his features in the bad light, and though his silhouette was familiar, I didn't even need that to confirm his identity. I recognised his voice.

He didn't answer me, just bridged the distance between us and kissed me, his mouth almost violent against mine. It was barely a kiss, more like a duel of wills as I battled to stay away from him: I don't know what it was he was fighting for. "Stop it!" I exclaimed, finally breaking away from him. "I have a date tonight. He's a nice guy." I don't know why I had to qualify it like that, but I couldn't look at him as I turned my back and walked away. I didn't get two steps before he grabbed my wrist and twirled me back towards him, his eyes searing into mine even in the dark. My breath caught in my throat as his fingers skimmed down my cheek, barely brushing against the pulse in my throat.

He kissed me again, more gently this time and I didn't pull away. He backed me against a nearby tree with surety in his movements. I knew he could see everything from the way my chest moved as I breathed heavily to the pounding pulse in my throat. My fingers curled through his thick hair as I pushed my tongue back against his, feeling warmth pool in my stomach. It wasn't just the buzz of sexual attraction like I've read about in romance novels, but a warmth of feeling and longing that entrapped my heart and wormed tendrils into my soul. This was why I needed to be away from him: I knew that if we continued the way we were, I would never be able to move away. It was possibly too late already.

Michel's nimble fingers unfastened the buttons of my jacket, pushing the heavy cotton out of the way and spreading his hand across my breast. My breath caught in the back of my throat and I pulled him closer, pressing myself against him wantonly. I didn't care if I had somewhere I needed to be, or things to do, or if I promised myself to stay away from him. I needed to feel him again, like a junkie needs a fix, and my hands trembled with withdrawal symptoms and my need to touch him. I wanted so badly to see him, his sensual lips and darkly lashed eyes always gave me a pause, as I never quite imagined them to be as beautiful as they really were, somehow convincing myself I had it wrong.

His mouth was surprisingly warm against my neck and I realized that in contrast to the cool autumn air, he was maintaining warmth from something. Possibly a heated building, or, as my traitorous brain pointed out, the lips of another girl. Somehow, the idea that he would come seek me out directly afterwards gave me a strange pleasure that shivered down my spine.

"Michel," I murmured. "Why?"

"Why not?" he reasoned back, moulding himself against me and pushing my back harder against the rough bark of the tree. I sighed as his cold hand slipped beneath my shirt, teasing my skin as his deft fingers snapped open the button of my jeans. Michel's mouth was still warm against mine, pressing and nipping insistently until I pushed my tongue back against his lips and felt him smile briefly in the kiss. His long, multi-talented fingers stroked against my clit, almost unexpectedly, and I gasped against his mouth. His smile grew wider for the briefest of moments. "Wouldn't your room be better for this?" he asked finally, nonchalantly.

I was in the process of nodding, my leg twined around the back of his thigh when I realized the implications of the question. Realized what would be waiting for us back at my dorm room. Realized, with a horribly kind of clarity, that he had trapped me with shocking deliberateness and cruelty. He knew I had a date, but would be unable to deny him anything, including showing up to meet the other boy with tree bark stuck in my hair and a vampire's hand curled in mine. "No, here," I insisted.

He drew back and observed me for a moment with a closed expression on his face. "Your call," he shrugged, leaning forward to kiss me again.

x.x.x

The alarm clock went off suddenly and Kerry was dragged from her dream by the haunting cords of some pop-princess song. Haunting because she would be hearing it in her head all day, not because there was anything particularly alluring or emotional about the words or sound. She groaned and rolled out of her side of the bed, trying her best not to disrupt Luke as she headed for the shower. By the time she finished her morning routine, he had gotten up and put on coffee, kissing her and handing her a cup as she emerged from the bathroom.

"Thanks," Kerry mumbled, inhaling deeply and relishing the scent of caffeine but also the simplicity of the act of Luke making it for her. In her previous relationships, she had never experienced waking up next to her partner in the morning without the demand for her to do anything. She took a moment to just appreciate the peace and contentment this new lifestyle brought her before she finished getting ready and gathered her notes from the table by the door where she had left them the night before.

"Love you! Later!" Kerry called out to Luke as she headed into work early, her deadline creeping up on a few assignments she hadn't been paying as much attention to as she should have in the past few days. There was something about the Ethan Bryne case that she just couldn't let go, and she wasn't sure if it was her surety that Michel had killed some innocent bystander in order to facilitate his own get-away, likely assuming the body would have been found years ago, or if there was something else. Something she was missing. Kerry kept thinking that if she wasn't so close to the subject matter that the elusive piece would jump right out at her and be the most obvious thing in the world.

Her drive to the newspaper office was filled with such worries, and when it came right down to it, her day wasn't much different from the last, despite her good intentions to work on other things. The hours she spent forcing herself off the Bryne case helped appease her boss, but only served to make her more determined to solve the mystery and finally put Ethan Bryne behind her.

x.x.x

"Hey Roberts, do you have an official cause of death on Ethan Bryne yet?" Kerry asked, casually walking into the city morgue as though there was nothing wrong with a reporter questioning the medical examiner as he prodded on another body.

"Probably drowned," Roberts said offhand, "but there's a possibility his body was dead before he was dumped. I haven't finished with him yet."

"It's been a week!" Kerry exclaimed, a flash of anger coursing through her at his callousness. "And there's no statute of limitations on murder."

"You've been watching too much CSI," the M.E. casually commented, arms elbow-deep in his patient's stomach. "In reality, this poor sucker on my table died two days ago and your Ethan has been dead for eight years. It isn't even a cold case. The case was solved a long time ago; they just didn't have the body."

"You've had his remains for a week," Kerry repeated.

Roberts paused what he was doing, his eyes softening as he regarded her for a moment. "I understand your need for resolution, but the hard truth is that Bryne is nothing more than a few bones, and the best I could tell from them is that his skull was intact when he went in the water. Now come over here for a second and I'll show you what's been taking up most of my brainpower recently."

Kerry inched around the examining table, carefully trying not to touch any of the instruments, not just because of the creepy autopsy factor, but because she had once poked a finger at a scalpel and not only sliced it open, but also made Roberts curse at her for having to disinfect the entire tray again. The body, displayed so clinically on the metal slab, seemed almost unhuman under the sharp glow of lights. The skin was white as chalk and the angry, gnashed neck wound was a surprising pink. "The bear attack victim? I heard about it."

"Bear attack? Oh, right. That's where it gets weird. It shares characteristics with a body in here earlier this week, but it's far more brutal than the first one."

"The first one?" Kerry quizzed, certain she hadn't heard about any animal attacks in recent days. Sure, her mind was preoccupied, but she was positive that something that newsworthy would have been on her radar.

"Peter Anderson. Found dead in his bed about a day after your boy came in. I ruled it as a cardiac arrest, but noticed a distinct lack of blood in his system."

"And this one?" she asked, nodding towards the body. Her mouth was dry, and her heart racing. She knew what his answer was before he said anything, and she sincerely hoped that all her assumptions were wrong.

"He ensanguinated."

"What? Bled out?" Kerry asked. "Well he does have that nasty bite missing from his neck." Oh, shit, she realized. It was getting more and more likely that this was not a normal animal attack.

"The weird part is that he lost way more blood than was found at the crime scene. The human body has around eight pints of blood, and six were missing."

"Six?" Kerry echoed dully, long-ago spoken words whispering through her mind. Vampires only take about a pint of blood when they feed, Ethan had said, but there are times... Kerry shuddered, her eyes drawn to the storage fridge where the body of Ethan Bryne was held. Rationally, she knew it wasn't the same person who had explained vampire feeding habits all those years ago, but she could still feel a tenuous connection between the bones and the man she now knew as Michel. Drawing back into reality, she found Roberts watching her intently, a questioning look on his face. "Was the body moved," she finally asked.

"Not that I've found evidence of. The bite radius is getting me too. It's almost human, but no human I know has teeth that can rip through the muscle of a man's neck."

Kerry looked back down at the body. It was not her first autopsy and it wouldn't be her last, but there was something disarmingly brutal about the Y incision on this one, as though the vampire had ripped his hands through the man's body. There were things she had trained herself not to look at while in the morgue, coping mechanisms that allowed her to ask Roberts questions as he worked. The stark reality flooded her vision, and for a moment she thought she was going to vomit.

"Not on the body," Roberts commented, having almost as much experience with the green tinge of her skin as he had with weighing hearts.

"I've got to go," Kerry said quickly, backing away from the table. "Give Alice my best." Her back hit the counter, shaking the contents of the glass cabinet with the bump. Kerry bolted from the room, only stopping once she reached the daylight brightness of the parking lot. She calmed a bit, feeling the warmth of the rays hit her face. It hadn't been disgust of the body that made her want to throw up, she realized. It had been fear, and it still swirled and eddied through her stomach like a deflating balloon someone had let go of.

Kerry leaned against the hood of her car, soaking up the daylight. She could still hear Ethan's voice telling her: "Without taking blood, the vampire becomes unable to think of anything besides his all-consuming need, which just grows and grows until eventually he loses what you humans would so arrogantly term 'his humanity.' He becomes like a beast, tearing unthinkingly into the first available victim, and doesn't even recognize until too late if the victim should be his own parent or child or lover... even with a steady diet of blood, too long between kills and the vampire becomes mentally and physically sluggish. It's more than the nourishment, it's the draining of the life force. Besides, killing is very pleasurable." She was still trembling, and despite the fact it was day, she had to suppress the urge to look over her shoulder.

She didn't even notice taking her BlackBerry out of her purse or searching the directory for the Pianist listing. She did notice his voice on the other end of the line telling her to leave a message. Kerry paused for a moment, the first few seconds of her message silence, or with his ears the nervous intake of breath. "Hey, it's me again. I just got out of the morgue and there's a body here that I think needs to be brought to your attention. I know it's not your problem, but it's the second one in a week and I didn't have any other contacts to call. Whoever did this is... crazy and bloodthirsty." Kerry paused, and then said softly, "goodbye."

She knew he'd understand the hidden context.

Quick Disclaimer: I don't own the quotes taken directly from CotN (I would mention what page but I loaned the book out to a friend). VVV owns those, and she did a delicious job with it.

Please review. I would like to know what you think of the dreams/flashbacks. I realize some of you may think them confusing, while others may love them. I'd also like to know if you like the way the story is shaping up so far.