Author's Note: I've up-dated early so that I can concentrate on my other story this week. I loved every review!

And I was reminded about my vampires, thanks to Brianna Warren. I have based my vampires on the ones from the show 'Moonlight.' I like them the most. When they are ready to attack/feed their fangs elongate and their eyes go icy blue. They can go out in the sun, but not for too long because it dehydrates them to the point where they will attack and feed off of the closest blood source, they cannot control that. Silver is poison to them. Killing them is to cut off their head with a metal sword (anything metal really) or fire. A stake to the heart paralyzes them.

So, I hope you enjoy and don't forget to review!

Lots Of Love

If he thought that he was over his head before, he felt really impractical right now, going with two vampires in the middle of the night and with no knowledge of what they want, who they really are, and where they were taking him. He could hear the lecture in his ear the whole journey, and although he repudiated to leave without taking a weapon, his sais, both of which he kept out of sight and secure on his person, he still wasn't sure if he felt wholly safe about this whole situation.

And yet, here he was, inspecting as they drive deeper and deeper into the woods, on a trail that was unmistakably coarsely made, and was just barley drivable, and concealed so that no one could find it easily, Kurt assumed that it was for security purposes, and that wherever they were taking him was a place they didn't want anyone stumbling upon, or anyone looking for them to be able to find with too much ease.

As they continued, the forest got more dense, trees in a great abundance, thick and still developing, moss covering over the bark, bright and vigorous from the rain. Everything was shadows of greens and browns, but it looked like the area was teeming with shade and an astonishing assortment of exquisiteness.

Kurt's hand itched to sketch what he was seeing, it had such earthy tones that you don't customarily see these days, and it all appeared so exotic and at the same time familiar. It was a flawless inspiration for a line of clothing that he yearned to begin designing.

He scanned over to the front window, watching as the vehicle pulled up to a near castle-esque that had him reminiscing of the time when he lived with his parents. It was an old Victorian house; an elegantly carved concrete deck that nearly bore a resemblance to white marble that bounded the ostentatious structure. Extraordinary windows engraved into the house were ornamented with stained crystal, one high gothic tower stood out, extending toward the sky. He marveled over the beauty of the house, how it looked like it came from a departed era, standing on its own in this world as it's very own dedication to the past.

As Blaine and Wes got out of the car, Kurt followed suit, transfixed by the building, and although it reminded him of the house where he lived in for years he didn't get the same feeling from this building. There was no sting in his gut that registered in his mind that it wasn't a good place to be. He remembered hating to arrive home, even blessed by their priests and solidified with holy water; he never actually felt a sense of peace and safety when he was near it. This house, this house gave off a completely different aura, although slightly intimidating, it did not give off a feeling that it was an evil place, rather than that, it seemed like a home. Not necessarily a fortress, although that could be what it can be used for, but that it was a sanctuary, a safe haven.

He couldn't explain it to himself more clearly than that, but it was how it all felt to him, it made him feel like that he wasn't entirely mental for trusting them. It solidified what they said more than how they said it. He was sure that if this place felt like evil then he would have turned around right there and left.

The inside was as magnificent as the outside of the house. It had the original layout, adornments from its time, furniture that was well kept from that period, but it still had all of the conveniences of the modern day, that didn't take away from the excellence of the building.

They lead him to the middle of the house, where they opened two wooden doors that opened to a gym of sorts.

"And this is where we train," said Wes, a smile big on his face, looking out to where equipment lay on walls and carriers, and where a few people lay dispersed amongst the room, "And look we found part of the gang, the others must be out."

"Over there would be Nick, Jeff, Artie and Quinn," he said pointing over to where two people, one with dark brown hair and matching eyes sat with someone with much lighter hair and piercing blue eyes, and then another pair, one with strange hazel eyes and blonde hair that barley brushed her shoulders, the other vampire was wearing glasses and had brown hair, neither of those caught Kurt's attention. This vampire was in a wheelchair. A vampire with a disability was utterly unheard of. To his better judgment, he did not ask.

"Everyone went out to who knows where," mumbled Artie, "They said they'd be back by tonight, so no worries or anything."

"So, who is this," questioned Jeff, staring at Kurt inquisitively, eyes seemingly to already know the answer.

Wes nodded, like he knew what Jeff was thinking and confirming his thoughts, "This is Kurt," he said to everyone in the room, "He's the one me and Blaine have been tracking for a while now, you know what I'm talking about."

"So does this mean we're going to start pursuing the items?" Asked Nick.

He shook his head, "We're not quite ready for that just yet," he looked at Kurt, "And I think it would be better if you got reacquainted with your training that you've seem to have circumvented recently."

Kurt nodded, "That sounds reasonable, but I'm still misplaced as to why it's essential I'm here."

"That'll be Blaine's job," he said with a shit-eating grin, "He'll fill you in with what you need to know, and help you with retraining."

"What! The Hell I will," exclaimed Blaine, pissed off that he had to be the one with the inconvenience in dealing with someone who was pathetic, and he did not, under any circumstances deal with weakness, particularly someone who choose to be weak, "Why can't someone else trouble with him?"

Wes shot him a look, not sparing any defenses, "You're the best fighter out of us, and you'll do it because I said you are. I'm not moving on this one Blaine, I don't care if you want to or not, it's your obligation now."