"What were you going to do with them?" Mir asked Phaelyss as he led them down a dimly lit corridor. The vampire glanced around at him, dark eyes wide with just a touch of worry.

Mir held the gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Phaelyss pursed his lips. "They were half-fangs, we were probably going to kill them. The smaller, angrier one though, we knew she'd been made by you. Valtov was going to see if he could get your powers from her." He turned sharply on his heel and continued down the hall, forcing Mir to abandon the rage that had surged up in him.

It was a short, and silent walk.

The leading vampire stopped at a steel door. "They're in there, key is on the wall."

Mir nodded and wrapped his hand around the large handle.

"What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"We just killed Valtov. The council has agreed to have you back as there leader. What do we do now?"

Phaelyss was looking at him expectantly and Mir realised he had absolutely no clue what he wanted. "Right now you can do whatever you want with the council," He clapped the vampire on the shoulder. "Whip them into shape, get them how you like them. I'll contact you soon."

The older vampire inclined his head in affirmation and began to retreat back down the dank corridor.

"And Phaelyss..."

"Yes?"

"If you betray me – and we both know you'll be tempted – know that I will hunt you down and kill you slowly."

Instead of looking afraid, Phaelyss smiled understandingly. "I know you will. It's what vampires do."

Then he was gone, sweeping around a corner with a flash of dark cloak and equally dark hair. Mir turned back to the door and dragged it open.

Cheyenne and Erin were behind a barred door, the latter with her eyes fixed on him. He nodded at her and then turned to the other person, the vampire not in a cell.

"You could've run by now."

Ingrid watched him carefully. "I know better than to burn all my bridges."

He snickered. "You're here because this is the part where I forgive you isn't it?" Vlad's memories indicated as much. "I saythat you're my sister and I can't hurt you and everything starts again." Faster than the other vampires could follow he'd slapped a hand over her mouth and nose and pressed her against the damp wall. "Well this isn't the part where I forgive you." There was a piece of cloth hastily wrapped around her neck. Mir ripped it off.

"This the part where I warn you." His fingers stroked the deep cuts his fangs had left causing Ingrid to twitch. She shut her eyes, physically hiding her fear. She'd forgotten how good Mir's telepathy was. "Look at me," He said.

Ingrid didn't look at him.

"I said look at me!"

The vampire's eyes burst open as his hand curled around her throat. Blue eyes, paler than his own to the point of looking silver, focussed on him.

"This is your last chance." He snarled in her face. "If you step out of line, betray me, or even annoy me again," Dimly, he realised that he was saying everything Vlad was already said and that he was falling into a trap that he had been for years. Killing her was the best option and killing her was the only guarantee. For a moment Mir just stared into her eyes. Ingrid couldn't possibly know that he was considering ending her on the spot but she recoiled anyway. "I'll end you." He could do it right now. This would be a victory, he'd be safe from his biggest threat – Ingrid deserved to die anyway.

He could do it. He should do it. He...

He removed his hands. Ingrid straightened herself up and looked at him levelly. "I know my brother," she told him. Then, as if the loss of Vlad was more than just a minor convenience to her, she nodded sadly. "But I don't know you. So I'll listen to your warning." Then she flitted away, and Mir sighed.

He turned to the two vampires in the cage. "Let's go rescue dad,"

The sun was sinking, diurnal light retreating from the school leaving hideous shadows that stretched hands up the walls. Mir was alone. He'd rescued the Count, Erin and Cheyenne but he was alone. Cheyenne said she needed time to become accustomed to her new circumstances, and while he was hurt that she didn't want him there, he understood.

Instead he watched dusk approach. Fear lingered just under his skin, the fear that when the time came… When he could properly be with Cheyenne she would reject him.

Mir shook his head. It was a stupid thought. He and Cheyenne had wanted this and she wouldn't just reject him. The moon would rise and he would invite her out hunting and they would be vampires together. He smiled, the thought of Cheyenne, covered in another's blood, in his arms was a potent wish. Maybe even Erin could join them at some point.

Finally the royal navy of night-time had consumed the sky and the courtyard was tinted blue. Mir pulled on a jacket and headed out of his room to where he knew Cheyenne would be. There were a thousand possibilities for them now – and he couldn't wait to start with them.

She was with Erin in the throne room. The two blonde vampires were deep in conversation but Erin closed that conversation neatly when Mir entered.

Her smile was very slightly crooked. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to it." She slunk out the room and Mir heard her flit away once she was in the corridor. Jealousy maybe? He and Erin had always had a thread connecting them but now, with Cheyenne like him – he could properly commit to her.

The newly-made vampire in question was seated on the sofa with a glass of blood that she sipped on quietly. Mir lifted it out of her hands and took a gulp. "Cold," He said, "We could go get the real thing right now if you want," He held out a pale hand.

Cheyenne looked at it. Mir wondered if she'd have doubts, back when she was human she'd always squirmed when it came to how he procured his food.

Then she clasped it in her cold palms and smiled warmly at him. "Please."

He took her to an abandoned building on the edge of town, a place where the more troubled of people tended to lurk. Easy pickings.

"It's good to finally be a vampire with you Vlad." Cheyenne smiled at him, her big doe eyes full of love – proving that everything might actually work out. He totally missed it, too caught up in his own bloody happiness to catch that he was being played.

"Yeah. I was worried that you becoming a-" He stopped. "You called me Vlad."

"And you answered to it." She hissed, her cheery composure vanished. He tried to move towards her but she darted backwards.

"What are you doing Cheyenne!"

"Don't talk to me like that!" Her new fangs snapped furiously when he tried to get nearer to her. "You're not him! You're not Mir."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're weak!" The half-fang growled. "You're only pretending to be Mir so you can have me and Erin and so people will still fear you – I can tell, I was with him for-"

"Fuck you Cheyenne! I am Mir! And you were with me for what? 3 months, if you want to do this shit then you should at least have some decent argument." It was happening again, just like Erin – Cheyenne was to despise him. Panic thrummed through his veins and there was a salty burning behind his eyes. "How could I not be Mir?"

"Don't lie to me! Even you know that you've changed! You're breakable!"

All of his fears were being realised and he knew that Cheyenne was speaking the truth. He had been softening – he should have killed Ingrid, Phaelyss, Jonno and – dammit, he should've killed Erin long ago. Vlad's memories were flowing through the cracks like water. He wasn't even sure if there was a definitive difference between the Vlads and Mirs in his mind anymore. "Cheyenne – this isn't true!"

"Fuck you!" She snarled and threw a brick at him. "Don't try to lie! When was the last time you killed one of your hunting victims!"

The vampire who couldn't work out whether he was Vlad or Mir stopped dead. It was a good thing that Cheyenne, even as a vampire, was a terrible throw. The slab smashed harmlessly on the floor beside him. He stared at her as if she had just told him the most shocking news in the entire world. She almost had – she'd made him realise what he already feared.

"What can I do about it?" The question was so far from everything he'd been as Mir. It was passive, compromising, everything he'd been incapable of a few short months previous. Surely that made him a better person? Surely Cheyenne, who'd always wanted more from him, could understand that?

"You can't do anything!" The half-fang spat at him, scarlet blazing in her iris and turned her back to him. "You're just going to become more and more like him until there's nothing of Mir left. You're going to become a fucking joke – weak! I bet you're even stupid enough to get yourself killed."

His hand brushed Cheyenne's shoulder and she snapped around. His face was thrown to the side by her slap and she darted away. Intense bursts of hurt and rage contended to control his actions.

"Look at you! On the floor – fucking pathetic! You're not Mir, you're not even strong enough to be Vlad!"

Somewhere along that sentence he snapped. Something in her poisonous words cut too deep (as if it hadn't been already) and he picked a side. He shut the doors on Vlad's memories temporarily and allowed one of the swelling emotions to overwhelm him. Mir picked rage.

"You think I'm not Mir?" His words were feral. He let his own nature come in to play and he saw Cheyenne tense as his own fangs, sharper, longer, deadlier dropped from his gums. A metallic, visceral growl escaped his throat.

His girlfriend grinned, exposing a combination of carnal delight and fear as she curved her lips. "Mir, there you ar-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence because his body slammed into hers. They were both taken to the floor, Cheyenne trying to untangle herself from his fatal fury, Mir trying his hardest to keep her trapped.

It was a short fight as Cheyenne had nothing on him as a vampire, and she had even less on his anger. The look in her whiskey eyes was nothing short of terror when he pinned her to the floor. He looked animal; he couldn't even vocalise what he wanted to say to her so he settled on a snarl.

And idea of what to do to her, an attack that he'd become very fond of over the past few weeks rose up in his mind. An amalgamation of Mir's uncontrollable temper and Vlad's years of repressed instincts. Something he'd found was just effective as punishment on vampires as it was slayers.

Mir's top lip curled, ignoring Cheyenne's hyperventilations, and he tilted his head neatly to the side.

An agonised scream ripped from the half-fang as Mir's teeth eviscerated her throat.