I am so sorry this took so long! I've been trying for weeks to get it out of my head, but it just wouldn't come. So I tried changing the point of view. Hope you guys enjoy a rare look into their heads ^^ I offer something naked in the next chapter as an apology for my lousy ability to kick things out in a timely manner.

I promise the next chapter will be up much sooner.

Quick love note to both The Lady Talla-Doe, and Zuvios Gemini for being such awesome people and not killing me when I kept getting stuck.

Talli, you cookie theif, you owe me an update!

My shoulder erupted with fire, the pain singing in my veins like the Devil's own deep tenor. And while I screamed out in surprise and hurt, that look crawled into his eyes. Alien and predatory. Satisfaction was the closest word I could think of- but it still didn't fit. Nothing in our language could describe it properly.

Then he twisted the blade again, and my vision danced with small black dots. Letting out a groan, I felt myself go limb beneath him- too dazed to try to overcome the shock. The situation wasn't one I was familiar with; usually, I was the predatory one.

I didn't like the feeling very much.

My hands moved on their own, planting themselves firmly against his shoulders. Bracing myself for the pain, I lifted my legs and drove the hard heels of my feet into his stomach. The blow had enough power behind it to lift him completely off of his own feet, sending him a good dozen feet away. The blade stayed stuck in my flesh, jarring painfully as his grasping fingers tried to take it with them.

My breath came in short, halted gasps as I climbed to my feet. Dust, stirred from our movements, swirled dramatically around me. With shaking hands, I reached up and pulled the blade out- my eyes tightly shut, teeth biting into my lower lip. I couldn't prevent the moan from escaping this time.

His answering groan sounded from among the small outcrop of rocks to my left. The responding blow, however, came from behind me. A hard hit to the small of my back had me back on the ground, rolling away from his follow up kick. My braid caught in the tangles of dried weeds as I darted to my feet- yanking the tie out painfully.

As he dove for me again, I brought my hands up quickly, slamming them both against his chest. The dagger, still wet from my blood, skipped across his coat before burying itself in the thick muscles of his shoulder. The wound was a mirror image of the one he'd just given me. The savageness inside of me, the inhuman nature that makes me ideal for Priesthood, finally wakes up, giving a leisurely yawn and shake before washing over me.

Suddenly I'm smiling.

She's beautiful, standing there, ready to attack. The wind's picked up around us, and her hair is loose for once. It rides the currents like an angry nimbus cloud, pooling around her face in such a way that is anything but gentle.

I wouldn't have loved her so much if she were only a gentle being. It is the fierce woman that I crave. The beast within her that has always called to me. An inner fire burns in all of us, lighting us up from the inside. It is that small thing that brings us closer to the Vampires, as opposed to the weak willed humans. The primal urge to fight and defend, rather than run away.

It's always burned the brightest in her.

The smile I give her in return is taunting, and challenging. She's on me in a moment, body flowing from one spot to the next, marking me with my own blood, claiming my life as her own to torment. She's the most beautiful, I find, when she's embraced her beast.

When she can kill me without feeling any remorse.

My nails score his flesh, leaving ruby lines. We've both discarded our weapons now, fighting with just our bodies. It is easier; though his strength is far superior to my own, I am quicker than him- leaving small marks with each pass I make. Marks that will continue to deplete his strength, his stamina, slowly. When he falls, he won't expect it.

I feel his fist connect with my chin, and the aching burn as my own teeth bite through my lip. Snarling wordlessly at him, I spit my blood on his lips, and use the vivid crimson mark as a target for my own fist. His tongue darts out after I hit him, a sadistic grin splitting his face as he licks away the smudged remains of my fluids. I shudder, inside, and try not to let my disgust show.

He sees it anyway.

Hurt enters his pure, honey gaze. Then anger burns there, greater than anything I've seen yet. A volcano could have burned less than his spitting orbs. The next thing I realise is that he might really kill me. His hurt is great enough, that he would do it without though. Lost in a hurricane of emotion, he would murder me here- in the dust of what used to be a great city. I withdraw immediately, turning to run for the rocky bluffs not far from our body riddled fighting arena.

As I move, I draw out my small cross blades. Despite my attachment to my own personal holy weapon, I know it will have no effect against him. Distance can be covered quickly, and his own weapon was too similar to mine for him to fall for my little tricks, complicated swings, and calculations. I plant my feet firmly on the first small rising stones, and twist my body around as my momentum carries me over the larger stones pillars. As I drop beneath the protective shadows, my wrists flick once, twice, three times- and the cross blades are away, slicing silently through the air. I see three of the six connect before my vision is filled with the sand colour of the wind and water shaped columns.

His howl of rage fills all my senses. Part of me revels in his anger- knowing that I created such a senseless beast- while another bit, probably the last of my humanity, withdraws from sight; hiding in the recesses of my mind. It quivers in fear at what my brother has become; at what I've turned him into. I shrug those thoughts away as I climb to my feet, not bothering to brush off the sand clinging to my shredded black uniform. Those thoughts, and the images they produce, can only hinder my escape now. There is no place for guilt in war.

I pick up speed as I hear him crash into the stony ground after me, my feet all but flying as I race towards the cavernous mountain side no more than a hundred metres from my present position. Gasping, painful breaths burst from my chest as I run, the blood from my wounds soaking my clothes to my skin. My head is pounding, dizziness making it hard to focus on my goal. But I'm determined.

If I'm to die, my last stand will be in those caves. I will not cower from his rage; instead, I will meet it face on- unleashing my own beast to fight him. But to do that, I need the cool comfort of the stone.

In a cave, he will have nowhere to hide from me.

With that thought in mind, I push myself a little harder; stretching out my legs to their longest, fullest stride. Pain washes over me in long, leisurely waves now, and the pounding in my head has become as constant as a beating drum.

I stretch out my arm, my fingers just brushing stone. Then I feel impact, hard against my side. The tackle throws me into the sand beside the stones, the small gritty rocks tearing through my skin as though it were paper. I thrash in his hold, tossing my head and flailing my limbs. Behind me, I hear something crunch. His snarl fills the air around us. It's muffled somehow, distorted by something. I've broken his nose, I realise, slightly giddy. It isn't the killing blow I'd hoped for- but it will do. My defiance is evident in my struggles, and the Church will know I fought to the bitter end.

Then his hand closes around my throat, cutting off my breath. I struggle weakly, but cannot break his hold. Within a minute, the world dims around me, and I know no more.

THE END.

AAAAARGH!- cringes and hides from angry kicks- I kid, I kid! Review if you hate/love me.