Chapter 3 : A vampire or a victim

oOo

He didn't return for days. And she was lonely.

She almost reached out to Nik, but she stopped herself because he always seemed to have one of those pesky daggers handy, and loneliness beat playing dead for another century. Besides, she wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

Instead, she decided to cook. She wasn't overly domestic but at times it brought her peace, which she hadn't truly felt since she turned. But she didn't allow herself to dwell on the past too long as she pulled on her wide leg trousers and a turtleneck sweater, smoothing her hair into a chic bun. Mr. Patel gave her a warm smile when she entered his shop, one she returned with ease. She set about choosing the ingredients, dropping them into the basket that rested upon her arm. When she reached the counter a few minutes later, he was preoccupied by the small television to the side. He smiled at her again as she set her items out for him to ring up, but the warmth was replaced with tight worry.

"Dinner for your husband?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

"Yes," she lied. "He's been out of town on business."

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she gave him a shy smile, but his face had clouded.

"You need to be careful," he said quietly. "On the news..."

He turned the small set so she could see it now. A pretty sunny blonde's photograph was on the TV, but from the grim expression on the anchor's face, she already knew. Now the photograph joined three others - blonde hair, blue eyes, bright smiles. All dead.

"You need help and your husband's not here, let me know. Don't want to see you end up like them." He wrote his number on the back of her receipt and dropped it into the paper bag. She nodded absently.

"Thank you." Rebekah managed to sound sincere before she pushed out the door and stepped into the brisk sunshine, letting the air she didn't need fill her lungs.

Those girls looked so much like her that they could've been her sisters. Most women would have felt a creeping fear run down their spines, a shudder of horror. But she was not most women. She knew the deaths were his way of dealing with emotions he couldn't yet put a label on. But she could.

Stefan was over Elena.

She ventured out to a club not far from Gloria's later that night. She'd hoped that perhaps he would show up and join her for dinner, but she ate alone. It was probably better that way – she could relax instead of being rattled by his presence. She wasn't naïve – he would likely be in a mood when he returned, despite how clear it was that his sights were back on her.

The wine enveloped her head in a gentle cloud, and she was hungry for something else. It'd been so long since Rebekah had blood hot from the source, and she longed to dance and feel attractive, to bask in the glow of the opposite sex. Her legs and cleavage were on display below her short tailored jacket, and as soon as she entered the dim space with flashing lights, she'd already garnered the attention of a few men.

She was greeted with a drink when she approached the bartender. Rebekah took a sip, its fruity taste pleasant and the alcohol potent. A handsome redhead a few stools away raised his cup to her and she winked in response before turning to head onto the dance floor. She closed her eyes as the beats and the bass traveled through her body, and she swayed along. It wasn't long before he was behind her, his hot breath upon her neck and his hands resting on her waist. Her skin tingled at the contact of a man who lusted for her.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he commented, his voice deep and husky.

She turned to face him with a coquettish smirk. His eyes were a greenish hazel shade, his hair a deep auburn more than red. She rested her hands upon the lean muscled chest hidden under his dark tee, and they moved together under the lights. He wasn't the one she wanted, but he would do for tonight.

"What's your name?" she asked, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Drew." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile and his fingers brushed over her sides.

"Thank you for the drink, Drew."

"And you are?"

She hesitated for a moment. Did she want to leave this as an anonymous one night stand? Her mind flitted back to how she'd played coy when she first met Stefan. "Bex," she said finally, settling on her old nickname. She could always compel him to forget.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Bex," he grinned.

She smiled again, and they danced close, surrounded by other sweaty bodies. It was too loud to carry on a conversation. And to be honest she wasn't in the mood to talk, as it meant fabricating more stories. Too much work since she was only after physical attention tonight.

His lust grew the longer they danced. Rebekah felt a bit smug when he gave in, his lips catching hers. She closed her eyes, picturing someone else, which wasn't too hard. Drew was a good kisser, and her body responded to his touch. It had been far too long.

His mouth left hers as he paused for a breath, and the song changed to one with a slower tempo.

"Let's find a dark corner," he suggested, eager to go further. She bristled inwardly at the suggestion, and she wasn't sure why. It felt safer to stay here, out in the open.

She gazed up with seductive eyes, to show him he'd still get what he wanted, later. "Can we finish this dance first?"

She molded her body against his after he nodded and let her head rest upon his shoulder.

But Rebekah didn't quite feel at ease, that sixth sense keeping her on guard. She sighed and opened her eyes, annoyed with herself. She'd intended to smile at Drew again, but something over his shoulder caught her attention. The gaze of a jealous lover.

Stefan leaned against the bar, his bottle of beer clutched in his hand nearly to the point of shattering. She wasn't sure why her heart wanted to pound out of her chest with guilt. He'd been the one to leave her, after all. But she couldn't help wondering how much he'd seen.

She didn't even have time to tell Drew that she needed to visit the ladies room before Stefan was in front of her, gripping into Drew's shoulder. Rebekah warily thought again of those girls on the news. He was in full-on ripper mode, unstable. She didn't want a massacre on the dance floor.

"Would you mind if I shared a dance with my wife?" Stefan asked, his eyes gleaming darkly.

Drew stammered, but Stefan didn't give him a chance to answer. Instead he pushed Drew out of the way before pulling Rebekah into his grip.

"Trying to forget me?" His tone was rough and her stomach flipped. She wasn't sure if it was out of nervousness that he might still lose it here around all of these bodies, with their warm blood pumping and roaring in his ears, or if it was out of a sick satisfaction that she'd gotten under his skin.

Her lips twisted into a pout and she refused to meet his stare, one which she was certain was undressing her. "You haven't given me any reason not to."

Rebekah cringed at what poor Drew must think of her now, what he'd tell his friends in the morning about the philandering hussy who'd nearly gotten him beaten up by her jealous husband. If only he knew how lucky he was to be walking out of here alive, in one piece. She wanted to be angry with Stefan for playing these games, but she knew he was just as screwed up as she was, and that as thick and self-absorbed as he could be at times, he was the only one here who understood her.

Stefan's hand cupped her ass, pulling her into direct contact with his body, and she let out a little moan as he pressed against her.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted in a low voice, and she knew that was as close as she'd get to an apology tonight. His familiar cockiness was back with the bloodshed, the side he watered down around Elena. And Rebekah wanted to give in to nostalgia, to let him lead her straight to his bed, to make up after this heated spat as they had so many times.

But she was still defensive over the last few months. Yes, it was a drop in the ocean compared to eternity, but she'd been through so much – daggered right at the height of one emotional moment after another. A little support would've been nice as she tried to wind herself back down to normal. Instead he heaped onto her burden with apathy and mood swings.

"I saw the girls you mutilated," Rebekah replied icily. "Is that what you wish you could do to me, Stefan? Drain me and dismember me, so you don't have to bother with me again?"

Her voice was cruel. He stiffened in response. As closed off as he'd been, it was clear the pendulum had swung far in the opposite direction after the vacant sex they'd had. He was a wide open mess now - his emotions on his sleeve, his moods labile. But her own white hot anger was at the surface and overwhelming any concern she might've had for the innocent patrons around them. Her temper couldn't be contained, and her voice began to rise above the music, earning them more than a few curious glances. But she didn't care.

"I never asked to be brought here, you know. You might as well have left me dead –"

His mouth crashed down onto hers, effectively silencing her. She stood still for a moment, stunned, though she supposed she shouldn't be – isn't this how it went? But then his tongue traced over her lips in a way that had her mind zipping back to the 20's, his hands traveling along the outer edges of her breasts before they settled on her rib cage to pull her back tightly, against him where she belonged.

It was just one kiss, but when they separated her thoughts were flying all over the place, her breath caught in her chest. Damn him. She wanted him to grovel. She didn't want him to reappear and sweep her off of her feet, manipulating her till she didn't know if she was coming or going. And most of all, she didn't want to feel.

His forehead rested on hers, and Rebekah closed her eyes to regain her composure and shield herself from the effect he had on her. But she could still feel the intensity of his gaze.

"Let's leave, hmm?" he said, that smooth voice with its faint pleadingly persuasive edge. "Let's go home and talk."

"Talk, eh?" she challenged, her eyes opening give him a weak glare. Rebekah expected him to smirk and play the cocky bastard, but Stefan's face was as serious as ever and her angry resolve weakened. He answered with a subtle nod. She sighed. She was tired of fighting what she wanted out of spite.

So she ended up doing what she always did when it came to Stefan.

She gave in.

"Are you sure?"

She couldn't let herself believe she'd heard him right, despite seeing those pictures of her near-doppelgangers on the television. After a lifetime of disappointment, she didn't dare let herself believe.

"I can't get you out of my head, Rebekah," he said, his voice clear and unfaltering. "You're consuming my every thought. Why can't I leave the past where it belongs?"

"Because we were good together," she replied gently, stroking his face. He nodded his head once in terse agreement.

Stefan leaned over her now, and she rolled onto her back. They'd been lying on the bed in her room – their room now, perhaps – talking into the early hours of the morning. He'd confessed his fears, the ones he'd confronted. He'd confessed his sins, including those against her, and his concern that he couldn't overcome the ripping. She kept quiet, listening to him spill his guts, until he finally asked her what he had skirted around all night, the question that made her chest feel as if it might burst.

"I think I loved you, didn't I?"

"I never got to find out." She let her blue eyes examine his. "But I wanted to."

He shook his head. "He took you from me, and I hate him for that. But I've always held a part of you with me. Why else would I have kept your necklace all those years, without knowing why?"

"You gave it to Elena, Stefan. My necklace."

He nodded. "I know." Sadness fleeted across his face, but he met her eyes again. "But she's not the one who's making me feel this way..."

Her own confession burned in her mind, until the words spilled out before she could stop herself.

"He compelled you because of me, Stefan. I'd threatened to leave him behind, to run away with you… he daggered me because he thought I'd betrayed him for you. And I did." He looked surprised, and she felt the tears stinging at the pain of the time they'd lost. If it wasn't for her selfishness, it would all be so different now.

"Don't blame yourself," he said. "We're here, together, now. Don't worry about the past."

He gazed down at her from above, his fingers taking the time to run over her hair, as he both remembered and re-memorized her.

"Then find me again," she gently pleaded, her eyes shining. "Make me remember, and make me forget."

Rebekah didn't have to prod him any further. Stefan kneeled above her, his fingers at the tops of her stockings. But he left them there, instead easing her skirt over her hips, followed by her camisole and underwear. His hands ran around her thighs and he parted her legs so he could lean in closer. She trembled in anticipation of his touch.

"I always loved you in these," he whispered darkly as his fingers kneaded into her flesh and she tightened her legs around him. "God you're so hot."

It was clear now that anyone but him tonight would have been a mistake.

He took her breast into his mouth. Her fingers gripped into his soft wavy hair, tugging until he growled at her and bit into her soft flesh. Rebekah gasped at the pain, but she let out a low giggle as it turned to pleasure.

"You always played dirty," she teased.

"I'll show you dirty," he smirked.

He lifted her off of the bed and pinned her high up against the far wall. His thumb ran lightly over the bundle of nerves between her legs and she tried to buck her hips forward for more contact.

Stefan chuckled, lowering his head down until his mouth came into contact with her wet center. His tongue probed deep, over and over, and her eyes rolled back as she crossed her legs around his head. She didn't ever want him to stop.

But her body began quivering from his ministrations, weakening enough so that he could pry himself loose. Rebekah foggily noticed he was naked and ready for her. He waited till she was nearly recovered before yanking her hips down against him, penetrating deep to join them completely. They cried out together, and her fingernails bit into his shoulders as he thrust into her. It was rough and fast but his eyes never left hers this time, except when his mouth bruised against hers with a kiss, their fangs nicking each other's lips. His blood tasted better than she'd remembered.

"Oh, Stefan," she moaned, and the hitch in her voice told him she was close. The mattress hit her back, and Rebekah was humming near the edge, suspended in a delicious purgatory while his fingers rolled over her clit. Stefan groaned when her stocking-ed legs ran over his skin, and she bit down on her lip to keep control. It was his eyes finally undid her, though – the bonfire of lust that blazed there – and her erratic cries of bliss triggered his own release.

His arms barely supported him above her afterward, and she felt his half-hard cock stir inside her. His gaze left her soul stripped bare, and her chest tightened at his intoxicating expression.

"I've missed this. Missed you. You're so unbelievably hot..." he panted into her ear.

With a growl, Stefan pushed up into her again. A lusty gasp escaped her. He hadn't forgotten how this used to go, and with just a few more thrusts she clamped down around him for the second time. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her eyes squeezing shut as she rode out the last throes. Once her body relaxed, he pulled out of her, falling to her side.

But instead of turning away, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he drew the covers up. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, whispering, "Bex, I want you to stay with me."

They laid there in a heavy silence, and Rebekah waited till he fell asleep before she let herself answer what her heart had never forgotten.

"I won't leave you again, Stefan. Not as long as we both walk this earth."

She intertwined her fingers with his before her own slumber consumed her, and neither woke for the cell phone that began to vibrate on the nightstand.