(As always, Twilight belongs to S. Meyer, not me!)

…

10.

There's a drumming noise inside my head
That starts when you're around
I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an almighty sound

Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell.

…

Bella

…

As Peter hustled me to his car – he'd nixed my idea of running, hopefully to keep me from murdering the townspeople too early – I felt like I was losing my mind. A part of me cried out for blood, another part fought for control, for normalcy. Despite the encroaching darkness of twilight, the world felt bright around me, a red haze creeping in on my vision.

I climbed into the passenger side, glad for the bench seats in the old car when Peter slid in behind the wheel and placed a comforting hand on my leg. I clutched at his arm as he drove, and he smiled down at me, laughing at the no doubt terrified look on my face. "Aw, Bella, you'll be okay. Try bein' excited!"

I could only shake my head. The desert breeze in through the window tasted like dirt in my mouth as I turned toward the window, but as we approached the city, I buried my face in Peter's shoulder for fear of freaking out at my first scent of human blood. His scent and the feel of his soft flannel shirt against my cheek calmed me somewhat, dulling the chaos in my head.

After an unendurable wait and yet too soon, Peter pulled over, stopping the car in a neighborhood that honestly would have terrified me when I was still human – run down, boarded-up houses, graffiti everywhere. The ghetto.

"You sure about this?" He asked, seriously. "You want to take a human life?"

I took a deep breath and then said honestly, remembering all the horrible people I'd encountered in my short, messed-up life. "Some people are monsters… they don't deserve to be alive." I looked up, meeting Peter's eyes. "And I need to know what I am now… I'm built for this. But most of all… I want to."

He nodded acceptingly, and then we got out of the car and began walking down the sidewalk, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood – car alarms in the distance, music, heartbeats and harsh voices inside the closest houses. The burning in my throat intensified with anticipation.

We hadn't gone too far when three guys turned the corner from the alley, directly into our path. As I walked slightly ahead of him, Peter immediately grabbed me from behind, holding me in place with his hands on my hips, fingers grazing my hipbones.

The dangerous-looking trio was dark-skinned, wearing baggy jeans, doing that sideways limp-walk, an acrid, chemical scent coming off of them - heroin, most likely – that masked the delicious scent of blood pumping through their veins. I itched, ached to taste them…

"What you doin here, motherfuckers? This is Blood territory. You ain't welcome here." The middle one spat through his shiny grill. Blood territory? I almost laughed – he didn't know how right he was.

"Tell you what, snow bunny," he continued, limping forward as his homies surrounded Peter and I, each pulling out guns and trying to look threatening.

The leader continued, "I'll let you go – just you – if you blow me." I watched in shocked revulsion as he reached down and began unzipping his sagging jeans. "Come on, bitch, get busy."

Peter leaned down slightly, kissing my neck once and then whispering angrily in my ear: "Get that fucker."

At that, I gave in, gave myself over to my bloodlust, to the thirst and to the voice inside calling me to find my true prey.

With a sway of my hips, I flitted forward and pinned him roughly to the cement wall behind him. With one hand around the back of his neck and the other holding him in place, I breathed in the scent of his blood, savoring the anticipation and letting my bloodlust build. The burning in my throat reached a fever pitch –then with a growl, I bit down on his neck and tasted heaven and hell.

Fuck – the warm blood tasted sweet, tangy and blazed a hot trail down my throat and spread through me. I moaned into the guy's bloody neck, oblivious to the violence behind me.

I felt dizzy, almost orgasmic – like my vampire self solidified. I was electrified, with a burning in my chest, a tugging – and, I realized, a connection to Peter. As I drank, the blood came slower, the man's heartbeat stuttering, so I pulled away and let him drop. I licked my lips, savoring the last sweet drops of blood.

Then instinctively, I turned to glance over my shoulder, absently wiping at a smear of blood on my mouth. I caught his eye as he stepped toward me, over his victim's body, through the dim yellow light from the streetlamp, reflecting off patches of blood glittering on the concrete. "Peter," I said faintly, my voice sounding far away.

Exuding danger and straight sex, with a smear of blood across his lower hip and jaw, he strode forward purposefully and kissed me roughly, pushing me back up against the cement wall behind me. Fuck, everything was so much more intense as a vampire.

I tasted sweet blood on Peter's lips, and I reveled in his heady scent, feeling the blood lighting me from within. Then somehow we were on the ground, with me on my back, Peter's hips between my legs and his hands all over me (from my hips to the sensitive skin at my wait, up to my chest – my hands grasping his waist, pulling closer) and there was pressure, friction, a hardness, right there. He ground against me, and I couldn't help but moan out loud – Peter moved his mouth to my neck, kissing and biting till I cried out.

"Peter," I panted, and he pulled back, the passion in his bright eyes matching my own. In a moment, so many silent words passed between us – and like the eye of a storm passing, we crashed back together. His kiss was electrifying, and his hand strayed south, down my jeans, touching just – just right there, pressing and circling my clit, then pushing deeper.

I shivered at the pleasure – his hand worked faster, and he kissed me harder. The burn of pleasure built, intensifying at Peter's touches, jolting me each time his thumb brushed my clit.

My hands moved up over his chest, to clutch at his shoulders and in his hair, almost purring as Peter's mouth moved to my neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses, sucking lightly. When the pleasure built to an impossible height, he bit down sharply on my neck, throwing me into one perfect moment of pure pleasure – hot, bright, and sharp - and I shattered completely.

I enjoyed only moments of that perfect bliss before threatening voices and footsteps rang out from only streets away. Peter and I both shot to our feet, me re-buttoning my jean shorts, clumsy with my newborn strength. "The rest of the gang, I'm guessing?" I asked Peter, and he nodded in agreement before grabbing my hand.

"Come on; we should get back to the car. They can deal with the bodies."

My stomach lurched as I remember just where we were – three deathly still bodies crumpled in the narrow alley just off the main street. Blood pooled underneath their bodies, creeping toward a drainage grate. My conscious mind recoiled at the site, but venom pooled in my mouth as I remembered the intoxicating taste of human blood… and the burning returned to the back of my throat.

On the way back to the house, as I leaned back against Peter with his arm around me, his hand tapping out the rhythm of the song on the radio, I propped my legs up on the door and let my feet dangle in the wind. I closed my eyes and savored the atmosphere of the night – I felt sated and calm, like I knew I was in the right place. A strong sense of rightness floated through the car. I smiled up at Peter.

"How you feelin'?" He asked. "Think you'll stick with my diet?"

"I don't know… back when I was with Edward, I was always so sure I'd be a vegetarian like the Cullens if I were ever changed. I never expected to end up here, but honestly… it feels kind of right."

"Feeding on humans is our true nature." Peter agreed, swiping his thumb against my shoulder. "Natural selection at work. Humans can be cruel, can truly deserve or even with for death. The cancer patient, the child predator, the serial rapist. People en masse see what they want, and ignore the underworld of crime, poverty, and pain."

Peter pressed a sweet kiss to the top of my head, then rumbled out a rueful laugh. "Besides, self-control's not one of my strong points."

Curious, I asked, "Did you ever try to feeding from animals? No humans?"

"Honestly? No. I don't see any benefit of denying myself. The stress, the frustration – the slightest thing would make me explode. I regulate the wildness so it won't explode all at once." Remembering the sight of Peter's predatory, masculine stance in the street after we fed, I knew that Peter enjoyed his wildness, reveled in it.

I also knew his reasoning was sound. "That's why the Cullens were such a threat to me. Jasper tried to kill me once, you know. He wasn't used to my scent… but I could never really blame him."

Peter had gone tense when I brought up Jasper's attack, and his voice was low and rough when he replied. "Yeah, the fucker told me what happened. Looked like he felt pretty guilty about it, too."

"Now who's the empathy?" I teased, and Peter grinned ruefully.

The gravel road crunched under the tires as we left the main road, and when the house finally came into view, I realized how much it really felt like home.

…

(A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You always make my day. Sorry this one is a little shorter and took a little longer to post… I rage-quit one of my jobs the other day so I wasn't exactly in the writing mood, lol. On the bright side, I have way more free time to write now! Oh, and the lyrics at the top are from "The Drumming Song" by Florence + the Machine.

Let me know what you think! What you liked, hated, want more of… I'm always open to ideas!)