Please don't kill me! I know it was terrible of me to give that cliffhanger and then neglect it. Truth is, I knew how I was going to resolve it, but midway through this chapter some more idea-fish jumped into the murky, unpredictable pond that is my brain. I'm more of an engineer at heart than a writer. Then I decided to add a memory, but it took me a while to stop that and it's taking up most of this chapter.

I don't own Nikola; if I did, Sanctuary's future would still be bright and happy.

/

The taste of blood never came. Instead, Nikola felt the last thing he'd expected: soft lips on his own. By the smell, they were Helen's. The distraction gave him enough control to let go of Addison and move away from him. As he kissed her back, he forced back his claws and fangs so he could put his arms around her, his facial bones shifted to their normal positions, and as Helen saw his eyes return to blue-gray pools, she put her head under his chin and hugged him. Nikola, feeling very humbled, couldn't look at the assembly gawking at the pair. He whispered, "Thank you. I was about to do something horrible."

"Are you going to be alright?" Her voice was filled with concern.

Nikola hesitated before saying, "I'll be in my room…hopefully." He gently withdrew and ran out. In the lab, he heard Helen speak quietly, "Will, please get Addison to a clinic bed. Henry, I trust you can manage here without me?"

Nikola took an indirect route to his room to avoid the heartbeats he could hear around him. He couldn't trust himself near anyone now. When he accidentally strayed close enough to smell one of Addison's fellows, his throat felt inflamed with each breath. He began to run at full vampire speed.

He hadn't answered Helen earlier because he didn't know if he would be alright.

He passed the wine cellar without a thought, entered his room and locked the door.

I can't believe Helen had to kiss me just to keep me from hurting someone! What's happening now? This hasn't happened since the group perfected my medication! At least it wasn't a full-blown loss of control.

Every smell in the room barraged him. Through them, Nikola knew of everyone who had been in this room in the past half-year. He tore off his dress shirt, almost ripping it. He was surprised when the sound battered his ears like cannon fire, so he gingerly exchanged his dress pants for some loose-fitting shorts, and sat on the floor, covered in sweat, avoiding the now-ear-shattering bed. He could count the number of sweat beads on his skin because he could feel them individually—

Nikola knew that he would go mad from sensory overload if he continued to focus on what was around him. He thought back to his and Helen's happy days at Oxford, before they were brought into the world of abnormals, before the Five, before Johnny-boy forced his way to Helen and left a path of destruction in his wake. It had just been the two of them, 'the Oxford Outcasts' as they'd named themselves: the woman and the foreigner.

They had been happy, not caring what the narrow-minded students and professors thought.

Nikola hadn't liked Montague John Druitt from the minute they met, but Helen did, so Nikola had tolerated him for her sake. James and Nigel were more agreeable, and not only because they hadn't ogled Helen like a grand prize at a fair.

Even after the formation of the Five, Helen and Nikola had remained best friends. Then it began to slowly crumble away after Nikola ceased to be human.

That morning in the UK Sanctuary had been normal as ever. Nigel and James were in the lab, probably discussing and experimenting with various formulas, looking for new purposes they could be used for. Ever since a particularly loud experiment a few weeks ago, the pair began to turn the gas lamps as low as they could. Druitt's advances on Helen were becoming more frequent (and public) by the day. Gregory Magnus was, as usual, gone on one of his frequent expeditions. Nikola, naturally, was on the roof, sketching and feeding the pigeons. Today, there must have been at least a dozen of the small gray birds.

About two months ago, the Five had undertaken their most daring project yet: they'd found Source Blood: pure, untainted vampire blood, which many ancient legends promised would give miraculous powers to those were injected with it. The Five had decided to put these legends to the test, and within the week, Nigel could turn invisible at will, Watson's intellectual capacity soared, and Druitt could move about from place to place, without actually moving his body, over any distance; he would simply disappear, and reappear somewhere else with a flash of orange light. Nikola's luck, naturally, had fared as poorly as it had with his attempts to tell Helen how he felt about her: he hadn't changed at all. He felt worse for Helen, though. While the men, Nikola included, had fantasized about what superhuman powers they might gain (Druitt was the worst of them; he deserved Helen even less than Nikola), Helen held only curiosity of how the human body could be affected. Yet she hadn't changed, either.

Nikola usually waited until after lunch to leave the others, but today it had been only ten o'clock in the morning before Nikola couldn't look at Johnny without seething, and he didn't want Helen to notice. By this point, her blushes at Druitt were so potent that she could no longer hide them, so she no longer tried. Ever since Nikola had realized that it was far too late for him to attempt to court Helen, he'd found little reason to associate with the rest of the Five. Whenever Nikola and Druitt made eye-contact after a successful John-Helen flirtation, they couldn't hide their hatred for each other, and Druitt would add a triumphant glare that said, "She's mine. If you try anything, she'll hate you forever."

Of course, Helen's choice in men was just that, her choice. This was the only reason Nikola had not interfered yet. He cared more for her happiness than anything else. He loved her, and despite his best efforts, he knew he would continue to put her every desire above his own for the rest of their lives, regardless of the way she treated him.

At least, he thought they were drums; they sounded much lower than any drums he'd ever heard. And the volume! The drum-sounds were so close that, if they were drums, they would be right in front of him, but there were no drums in sight. The sound of drums would be a peculiar sound to hear on the Sanctuary roof, and they didn't sound quite like drums.

Is it downstairs? Maybe it's Nigel and James.

Curiosity peaked, Nikola made to stand up.

At the same time, there was a loud and awful scratching sound that made him stop where he was. The scratching sound stopped as well. He looked around, startled, but he was still alone. He stood up, scaring the pigeons away. The strange drum sounds hadn't ceased, and Nikola's ears were attacked with a loud whoosh whoosh while the pigeons flew away, as if a lot of air was being pushed. Strangely, both the drum and windy sounds died down within ten seconds, but they never quite stopped. Now he was able to hear more drum-sounds coming from other directions all around, including from where he stood, but it was only a single beat now. There were so many, beating independently of each other, that they became a constant hum to Nikola. There were many other sounds besides: banging, rustling, pounding, and so on, but still Nikola could not see any sources of noise.

Nikola made to run downstairs, to tell the others of these anomalies, but within a second, he was on the ground, stunned from the pain. As his foot stomped on the ground, there was an ear-splitting boom that took him by surprise. As he'd hit the ground, it happened again, but at a lower pitch. Nikola lay there for several minutes…or hours until he was fully aware again. The cold stone felt soothing against his cheek as he felt waves of heat leave his body. He acutely felt a drop of sweat form and slide down his head onto the stone. Nikola's panic, confusion and pain prevented him from having any coherent thought at the moment. Not that he knew what to think. He slid his hands over his ears, afraid there was more noise to come, and it was accompanied by a scratching sound.

The gears in his mind began turning.

Nikola continued slowly rubbing his fingers around his ears. It was as loud as someone speaking to him. Furthermore, he could feel miniscule bits of sweat forming, but they were so small that he could feel a hundred of them with each finger. Then came the smells. He could smell the dirty stench left by the pigeons as well as his own sweat now. Those whooshing sounds were from the pigeons' wings, carrying them away. And the drums…

The heartbeats of every creature around me! Amazing! The Source Blood changed me, too! I'll get used to my hypersensitivity soon enough. Finally, something works out in my favor!

Something worked out in his favor…with absolutely no downsides. It felt glorious.

Nikola was eager to tell the others. He tried to ignore the sounds that came from close by as he listened for the voices of his colleagues. Thankfully, there was no wind today. He could hear each of them as if they were right next to him: Nigel and James were still in their lab, and Helen and Druitt…were kissing on her bed. Nikola broke his concentration before he heard anything that would make his rage boil over. Taking off his shoes to avoid being stunned again by the noise, Nikola went back to his room (which itself was distracting with all the new smells) to explore his newfound abilities on his own. He also found that his sight, which had been slowly fading for the past few years, was now better than before. While not as powerful as his hearing or olfactory senses, he could see very well, as if his eyes had been healed. He wondered if his night-vision had improved as well, and if his taste buds had also been affected by the Source Blood.

After at least an hour spent identifying smells in his room, there was a knock on the door. About twenty minutes ago, Nikola had found that he could tone down his hearing ability (could he do this with his others senses, too?), so he kept it so low that he finally couldn't hear his own heartbeat, which he knew he would eventually learn to ignore. This, combined with is complete concentration on the scents around him, was why he hadn't hear anyone approach until they knocked. By now, Nikola had bathed and changed into a new suit, so he stood up and opened the door.

He instantly wished he hadn't, and there was no way he could have anticipated what happened next. So many details came at once.

It was Helen. She wore a different dress since he'd last seen her that morning. Her scent hit him. It was light and fresh. A vastly different scent, masculine and a bit sour, came with it. Johnny's, no doubt. It made Nikola want to throw up, but Helen's scent overpowered it and, of all things to happen, his stomach growled. Sure, Nikola hadn't eaten in a few hours, but this was just weird. Furthermore, with each breath he took of her sweet scent, his stomach grew louder. Apparently, overactive senses were not the only changes to Nikola's biology.

All this happened within two seconds.

Helen heard his stomach and came to the main reason for her presence. "Lunch is ready."

Nikola was blown away as her breath surrounded him. He was distracted enough to stop regulate his hearing. The sounds came crashing back into his head: Air moving in and out of Helen's throat, the others' conversations a few hundred yards away, their heartbeats, his own faster than the rest. Helen's steady, unalarmed pulse boomed through Nikola's head and quickly drowned all others out, making his stomach do somersaults. He stepped back and fumbled to close the door, too afraid to inhale. He was losing control of…something in himself. He had to get air: dull, non-Helen-scented air.

Helen caught the door before he could shut it. The sound of her hand smacking the door was loud, but it didn't compare to the thumping of her heart, so close to his. She half-smiled not sure if he was messing around. "Nikola, what are you doing?"

"Stay away Helen. Something's wrong with me," Nikola croaked, his Serbian accent stronger than usual. Giving up on the door and too terrified to stay close to her, he backed up against the far wall of his room, sniffing slightly to test the air. No good, despite being about six feet away from the source. He felt so hungry that, with that little puff of air, his belly hurt.

Helen was incredulous. She took a few steps toward him. "Nikola, what on earth are you talking about?"

"It's the Source Blood, Helen." The last of his breath was gone.

Helen beamed. "Oh, Nikola, that's wonderful!" He jerkily shook his head. Then she remembered the fact that he obviously wasn't happy about it. She took a few more steps forward and quietly asked, "What's it doing to you?"

Nikola couldn't speak anymore: he had no more air in his lungs, but he resisted the urge, that was getting stronger by the minute, to breathe. Instead, he widened his eyes and shook his head again, more forcefully this time. She seemed to understand but not care. She came right up to him and stopped. It was so part of her character to let her curiosity get the better of her. She seemed intent on staying put and help Nikola until this -whatever this was- was over, but it wouldn't be over until she left.

Nikola felt a burst of heat as her hands touched his arms. He could feel the blood pumping under her skin. That sensation, combined with her heartbeat, now accelerating, made him shiver all over. She held him tighter, which only made the reaction worsen. He couldn't stop looking at her neck. He could clearly see hot, wet blood rushing through her carotid arteries. His mouth watered..

The lack of air was getting to him. He barely had the energy to stay standing. He could feel his mind slipping, his face paling. He prayed nothing bad would happen as he opened his mouth in a grimace—

"Nikola!"

Pain.

Nikola felt like the bones in his head and…hands, strangely enough, were melting. His vision tunneled, still centered on Helen's neck. He screamed, but it didn't sound like anything that could have come from him: it was several octaves lower than anything Nikola's vocal chords could possibly achieve. It sounded like the voice a reptile-humanoid might have, rather than a human.

Helen's eyes widened and a wave of fear-scent came off her as she pulled her hands away. Nikola couldn't guess how he knew it was fear, some part of him just knew. And that part reveled in it. It sent him over the edge.

He grabbed her (he didn't know why) and saw, in the corner of his eye, that something was different about his hands, but he was too transfixed by her neck to become fully aware. His instincts (when did he get instincts?) took over. He gave an almighty roar and sank long teeth into her neck.

His canines sliced into her artery as easily as a butcher's knife into soft butter. He felt instant euphoria as the hot metallic liquid flowed into his mouth, and he involuntarily began to suck and swallow it at an alarming rate. His stomach rumbled with pleasure. He could stay like this forever, he decided.

He heard something strange, a moan maybe? Curious, he turned to see what it was, careful not to let his mouth move away from the sweet, delicious beverage—

Reality came crashing down.

The face of the one he would never hurt, the one he'd loved for most of his adult life, the one who'd shared in every enjoyable moment he'd had at Oxford, stared up at him, weak and pale.

Helen.

Helen!

Had Nikola just been drinking her blood?

He wrenched his teeth out and dropped her, both too drunk and stunned at reality to do anything else. Barely conscious, Helen continued to stare up at him from the floor as it quickly turned red. He tore his gaze away from her and found Griffin, Watson and Druitt standing in the doorway, flabbergast at the scene before him. Each had wide eyes. Druitt looked ready to murder. Watson couldn't move from shock. Griffin's hands were over his gaping mouth. That reminded Nikola of noticing something strange on his hands. He held them up.

There were long, black claws where his nails used to be. His right hand was sticky with Helen's blood. He moved, with superhuman speed, to the full-length mirror on the wall to his right and peered at it.

He didn't recognize the monster that stared back.

His hair and clothes were the only recognizable features on the figure. Its eyes were solid black –no irises or whites– just black. The facial bones were all in wrong positions to belong to a human. They made the face sharp, with pointed features. The teeth were almost worse than the eyes: they weren't regular teeth, per say – they were long, slightly curving fangs. The clawed hands were there as well. The creature's face and clothing were also spattered with blood.

Is that me?

He had more thoughts, all happening at once:

I've become a demon.

My chance at happiness is gone, even if Helen does survive, which she won't.

I'll never be allowed here again.

I should be put down, like the animal I am. That's what I deserve…that's what Helen deserves.

He knew what he was, what they were called…but he couldn't bring himself to use the word, so the monster forced it into his mind.

Vampire.

What had he done to deserve such a cursed life?

The other men rushed at Nikola. He wanted to submit, to die then and there. But he wasn't in control. The monster wanted to live, live and kill. When the others landed on top of Nikola, the monster threw them off at once with apparent ease. It ran to the window and jumped out. It landed outside, almost gracefully, forty feet down. John reached the shattered window just in time to see it disappear into the woods, while Nigel and James frantically attended to Helen.

A knock on his door plus the fresh scent of Helen, as sweet as it had been the first time he experienced it (minus Druitt's foul stench, of course) brought Nikola back to the present. He'd fallen asleep, and he'd had his alter-ego's favorite nightmare: the first – and only time – he'd tasted Helen. He hadn't dreamt of that day in decades, and when he did, it usually meant Nikola's darker nature was stronger than he liked.

As if I needed the dream to confirm that.

He was almost sure he was under control, though: his senses of smell and hearing were manageable and his head felt clear. But he didn't swing open the door anyway; he opened it a crack, just in case, and tested the air. Yes, Helen's scent only affected him the amount it usually did (which was tantalizing but more than bearable), so he opened it all the way. Helen knew that he wouldn't have done that if she were in any danger, so she walked in and sat on a couch. He offered her a drink, which she refused, so he poured a single glass of '49 Lafite for himself and joined her. They both decided to ignore their earlier kiss, for now.

Helen gave him a "What trouble have you caused now?" look, but simply said, "We need to talk."

Nikola smiled uncertainly and held up his hands. "Don't worry; I'm just as confused as you are."

That didn't ease Helen's mind in the slightest.

/

Yes, I know my writing style has probably dramatically changed since Chapter 1. As always, please inform me of any typos/ grammar problems. Also, general writing-style from the more experienced writers would be nice ^.^

By the way, in this version, when Nikola's eyes transform, they turn red (as in the show) and his vision tunnels while they turn black.

Thanks for reading!