Aug 12th, 11 a.m.

Hours later Kris woke with a start, her legs kicking out from under the comforter, forcing the material down her body to her waist. She shivered violently from the cold, even though she was wearing a wool sweater and sweat pants. She was feeling better than she imagined she would after feeding Eric for the first time, but her thoughts were still foggy. Then an awful, raw smell consumed her.

Cautiously she turned her head and saw Eric lying beside her, his eyes closed and looking no better than when she'd fallen asleep. He was covered as far as Pam could handle pulling back for fear of ripping his flesh off to the bone. In the background Pam was out like a light on the couch.

Kris was about to get up to run to the outhouse when Eric gurgled from the back of his throat. Panic set in because she knew he'd had to feed from her, but Pam wouldn't be able to puncture her wrist. Taking a deep breath, not as afraid as she was the first time, being that she knew what to expect then, she put her wrist over his mouth.

"Take a bite, Eric." Without warning his fangs ejected and he sank his fangs into her skin, her mouth flew open gasping for air at the ferociousness of his appetite. "Easy, hmmph … shhhh …"

He grabbed her forearm and pressed it harder to his mouth. She grimaced as the skin of his fingers seemed to disintegrate and meld into her own flesh. Within seconds she grew dizzy and laid her head on her other arm watching his face. To her amazement, one spot on his cheek began to heal, but it was only the one spot. She assumed vampires healed much, much faster than humans, unless they were an over-burnt marshmallow on a stick over a fire, apparently.

Moments later his fangs retracted, and he grew still. The blood from the vein in her wrist still flowed, and she grew panicked because she didn't know how to stop it. Sitting up slowly, as the dizziness overcame her, she looked over at Pam and thought about calling out for her, but she knew how heavily she slept. It was impossible to wake her up.

As weak as she was, she added as much pressure as she could to the wound with the end of her palm, but that only seemed to make the blood spurt out faster. She might work at a hospital, but she was only a paper pusher and sometimes taking flowers to patients or simply keeping them company. There was nothing she knew about preventing blood loss.

Sighing out of irritation at her predicament, she turned with her back facing Eric then saw something on the nightstand under the faint light of a small lamp. Sitting back up there was a bottle of Iron supplements and a blue glass dropper, but the liquid inside looked purple. A piece of paper beside it read, 'Feed Eric, 1 drop to punctures, spread, lick. 1 pill. Eat food. Sleep. Repeat.' Kris smiled in relief then chuckled because she felt like she was about to take a shot of tequila.

As instructed, she placed a drop on her wrist and smeared it in. Instantly the holes disappeared. Licking the blood completely away, she appreciated for the first time the effects of the vampire blood. Aside from the warmth that flooded down her throat, it spread down her arms then to her chest, her stomach to finally her legs. A burst of energy surged through her, and she hoped it would last.

She walked to the door, put on the heavy down jacket that felt like sheep's wool on the inside and slipped on the boots. Putting her hand on the door, panic set in when it dawned on her that sun would pour into the room. She wasn't too concerned about Pam healing but more concerned about Eric. Going back to the bed, she covered him up so his head was completely hidden.

She was only outside for two minutes because the cold was unbelievable. It must have been zero degrees, and with the wind it felt even colder than that, not that she'd ever been in a minus-zero region. But it was beautiful, the little she dared to observe.

Pounding the snow off the boots as soon as she walked back in, she kept the coat on because it felt just as cold inside as it was outside. Uncovering Eric, he looked the same as he had when he was first brought in. She'd fed him twice thus far, yet there was no obvious improvement. But first things first.

The fire needed to be restarted in the tall fireplace, so she set about getting that going. Within fifteen minutes the cabin was nice and toasty, for a human, anyway. After finally taking the coat off, she looked over the cans of soup beside a small iron cooking pot that had a thin handle. Kris was about to have her first taste of what life was like in the mid-1800s in America; she had wondered what the hook was for hanging just to the right of the blazing fire.

She downed the whole can like she hadn't eaten in days and felt even better, though she was sleepy. Stoking the fire once more she went back to Eric's bed, where he was still sleeping and laid beside him. Sleep found her quickly.

Almost 7p.m.

That remained the routine for the rest of the day. Kris fed Eric every two hours or so because she had become concerned about his slow healing. He'd never wake up, really woken up, until about that time.

Her wrist attached to his lips she had become numb to the ritual. After each feeding more spots on his face, neck and chest would heal, yet his eyes had remained glued shut. She could tell he was almost finished so she began to pull her arm away. Abruptly he grabbed her wrist firmly, surprisingly strong, and she looked him in the face. A pair of blue eyes stared back at her, though they seemed to be clouded over. She could read not one inkling of emotion from them. For the first time since she'd fed him, she was terrified.

"Who are you?" he croaked, his lips barely moving.

"I … I'm Kris."

"Where am…?" he asked, closing his eyes.

"Beats me, some Swedish mountain. Do … do you still need to feed?" He simply grunted. "Then may I have my hand back, please?"

His grip loosened and he became still again. Even though her head was spinning, she jumped out of bed and rushed to the fireplace, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't need to be frightened of him," Pam said softly as she approached Kris. She bit the pad of her finger, took Kris's hand and healed her wound. "Lick," she instructed and went to Eric's side.

Kris did and immediately felt better. Standing her ground, she said, "Pam, I'm not scared of him," she lied. "But why isn't he healing quicker?"

She shook her head. "Go get some snow and melt it by the fireplace. Use the other iron pot, over there." She tilted her head to the door where the pot sat.

A few minutes later Kris returned, melted the snow and set the pot by Pam's feet. Pam soaked a washcloth then brought it to Eric's neck, softly and lovingly wiping his skin. The blackened flesh peeled away easily but underneath it was still thick with a white, congealed gel. Testing different areas of his chest, she was met with the same result. She deflated and threw the cloth in the pot. "I'm going to have to bury him."

"Pam! The ground is frozen solid out there!"

Ignoring her comment, Pam covered Eric's body and carried him to the door of the other room, turned the knob and took a few steps down. Kris ran to the door and saw her descend a few earthen stairs down; she couldn't see much past that.

Only a moment passed when Pam came back up and closed the door behind her. Kris was speechless; she had no clue what to say, but she knew what she could do. Slowly approaching her, Kris put her hand on Pam's shoulder. At her touch, Pam's body shuttered, and she collapsed onto her knees and burst into tears.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This might have seemed slow, but it'll build up … promise! Oh, and we'll find out the relationship between Pam and Kris.

Reviews much appreciated.