The next morning, or evening, I guess, I awoke pressed, naked, into Eric's body. We faced each other, his arm slung around me. It was so long I think he could have hooked it around me entirely, in a complete, albeit one-armed embrace. He was still unconscious, so I took a moment to myself and allowed myself to feel everything I'd been blocking last night. It wasn't fair; I hated Eric, hated what he'd done to me because I was me, an independent, deeply private person who would never have submitted to a blackmailer in the first place. Loving him, if that's what I was doing, was a paradox. He'd gotten under my skin, forced my back into a wall until I finally came clean with myself, admitted what had been hidden so deeply in my mind that I never would have realized it alone.

But what good was this, now? I would be leaving a piece of myself behind and carrying his blood in me until the day I died, leaving me marked, unable to forget him, to simply ignore his existence. I would feel him, always.

I crushed my body closer to his until there was no room between us and gripped my hands around his arms, ghosted my fingers across his cheeks, ran them through his hair and let a low moan leak out of me; it filled the room with fury and pain and regret. But I didn't cry, couldn't even make my eyes water because I was doing what had to be done. I was taking control of my life. It had jumped the rails in the past few weeks, gone streaking madly, gaining velocity before heading into a final crash, and I was throwing on the emergency break, praying it wasn't too late.

The screams died down, leaving my throat raw, tender, and I just stared at Eric, memorizing every aspect of his features; the high brow, barely-there lashes, soft lips. I licked my own and kissed his; they were lifeless and I held my breath, pouring my unreciprocated passion into his prone body until I felt the muscles of his mouth jerk. His teeth lengthened without warning, one moment dull, blunt like mine, the next sliding out over his bottom lip, digging into mine in the process.

"Ah," I gasped, wincing at the tiny, but shooting pain. He'd latched onto my bottom lip and the sucking was making the veins underneath throb. He let go, pressed back onto my mouth, opening my lips with his tongue.

"Morning breath," I garbled, muffled between kisses.

"You taste like me," he said, releasing me for long enough to speak. "I have no problems with that. Actually…" He trailed off, closed his mouth and I heard a soft popping sound before he made contact again; this time I pried his entrance open and felt, as soon as I swished my tongue over his playfully, the slick layer of blood that had bubbled over the muscle. It deepened the kiss, made me more aggressive, assistant. I thought I heard Eric chuckle, but I couldn't tell; I was too busy trying to keep us connected and moving, trying to make sure I was communicating my fervor for him. I allowed myself to feel every good thought and emotion I'd had about him and the memories filled me, passed through to him; He rolled onto his back, taking me with, wrapping himself around me as I stopped the kiss to take a breath.

"There aren't enough women like you, Elliot," he said, gazing up at me; I felt his words—in more than one way—and walked my hand backward down his chest, toward his groin. He shuddered when I wrapped my hand around his long length, and I almost got off on my control over him.

"Oh, am I interrupting?" I froze, hearing Pam's voice behind us, and then the light switched on; at that very moment, she was staring at my very naked butt…and probably cackling to herself, waiting to lick up every last drop of the delicious embarrassment I was sure to show. Vampires routinely underestimated humans, but that sort of went with the territory, I supposed. Instead of blushing, or covering up and allowing Pam the pleasure of laughing at 'silly human' behavior, I planted one last kiss on Eric and swung my legs over the end of the bed and stood up to face our interloper, planting my hip and placing a hand there.

"Not at all, Pam." I licked Eric's blood from my lips, enjoying the rich sweetness briefly before I looked her square in the eye. "I'd ask you to join us," I motioned to Eric, "But maybe some other time. Now, what's on your mind?"

She gave a wicked grin, and I knew I'd been measured and found satisfactory. Her teeth shone lightly in the soft light, and something told me she was remembering the kiss we'd shared.

"I came to offer you some clothes," she said, drawling lightly. "Though, what you've got on now is a vast improvement over last night."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up to 'incredulous,' but I couldn't help but smile at Pam's innuendo. "Thanks for the offer," I said, and turned back to Eric.

"I'll be back in a little while." Without pulling on the t-shirt that had been discarded on the floor earlier, I followed Pam from the room but thought of Eric, what I could have been doing, and longing free-floated through my blood. I think I heard a chuckle as the door shut behind us, but it could have been my imagination. Pam walked in front of me, leading me down the hall, then up the stairs; her legs and hips twitched in time with her steps under a blue silk kimono-style robe that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. I trailed my hand lightly on the wooden banister, now slightly, and very apparently cold.

But Pam's room was just to the left of the top stair; she breezed in and I stared at another beautiful bedroom. Hers was done in cream and honey-bronze tones; everything was simple—the foam-white bedspread that encased a huge mattress, both of which looked inviting enough to fall into. The furniture was stained black; an antique bureau with a huge mirror attached to it showed me our reflections, and, like last night, I didn't quite know the woman who stared back at me. Especially after this morning's ingestion; my hair was almost silk, and my nose, which had always seemed a bit too curved for my face looked less obvious.

"Relax, Elliot," She said, pulling up the corner of her mouth; it wasn't a smile—I didn't know what to call it, really, but it was almost amicable. "Vampire looks good on you."

"I'm going to put that in the 'compliment' category," I muttered, wondering if she had given me a backhanded compliment with a nary a hint of sarcasm on purpose. But my attention was pulled in another direction when Pam opened the door to her closet and revealed a collection that beat out Prada, Versace and Armani. Combined.

"Wow," I breathed, high on clothes I'd never dreamed of wearing.

"You know he wants to turn you, right?" Pam asked casually, like we were discussing an article in The New York Times while she surveyed a black pencil skirt and a jade green silk top.

"I gathered something along those lines," I replied, dully.

"And?" She wrinkled her nose at the outfit, bypassed it for a black sheath dress and a deep maroon wrap, which she handed to me, along with a bra and underwear. I'd forgotten I was naked, and hurried into the bathroom, which Pam nodded at before I even asked where it was. I spoke through the door.

"I don't know," I said, pulling on the dress. It was a little loose in the hips, but it fell gracefully, creating swooping lines I admired in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that surrounded the perimeter of the bathroom. "I don't know if I'm ready."

The door opened suddenly, and Pam's face was serious, though she did look me up and down as I pulled the sweater on and tied the ribbon on the back.

"Ready for what, Elliot?" She shook her head. "Mortals. You always wait, like you're playing a game of poker, hoping the next hand is the jackpot."

"I'm too young to die."

"People die every day." He mouth was thin now, a slash against her face. "I died when I was nineteen. But my death was a blessing, and yours will be too. How can you be sure you're not already dying? Or that you won't get into a car accident tomorrow?"

She was right, of course; the things I did every day were more dangerous than I knew, especially of the late. The statistics of getting hit by a bus, crashing my car, getting burglarized and killed, raped—they all lined up, distinct and scary. With Eric, my death was certainty, but it wasn't permanent.

"His offer means something," she continued, appealing to me. "He doesn't turn many."

"I'll think about it," I appeased. I needed to get out of her grasp, to stop looking her in the eye and facing my future, something that I'd been avoiding at all costs. She nodded, though I wasn't sure if she believed me, and looked me over once more.

"I'm good," She said, proud. I felt like a dress-up doll.

***

An hour later, we were back on the road, headed toward Fangtasia to regroup and try to figure out what, exactly, was going on. When we arrived, I saw my car, sitting lonely in the lot. There was no sign of the Mercedes.

We trickled into the building lazily, like fat drops of rain sliding down a clouded window on an overcast day. There was a pleasing bite to the air, and I turned to Eric, who looked occupied, running over something in his own head.

"Have you been to New England in the fall?" I asked, far away myself, picking apples in orchards while quiet leaves fluttered to the dirt floor, creating multi-colored confetti.

"Yes," he said. "But I think it loses something in the dark."

I'd forgotten about that; fall was best viewed in the sun when everything soaked up the gold light and reflected it back, making the atmosphere warm even as the temperature dropped. I remembered driving on the highway, wind splashing through the car, making my hair weave snake-like around my head as I gazed out the window at the pinpricks of red, yellow, orange and brown surrounding the roads.

"It does," I murmured, looking at Pam. We'd arrived into the open office, and I took a seat on the couch. Eric pulled two chairs off the tower on which they'd been stacked and gave one to Pam before sitting down.

"So," he started, "The man who took you, who used chloroform on you was the same man who made the beer delivery?"

"Yeah," I saw him in my mind. "He was tall, sort of stocky, but not fat. And his hair was short. Like, military short." Eric exchanged glances with Pam.

"That's not our normal guy," he said, and went on to describe a shorter, lithe man whose hair was almost as long as Pam's.

"Oh," I said. "But why would a witch, a vampire and a human be working together to get rid of you?" I asked. I knew they wanted his job, but was killing him the way to do it? Especially with the taboo of one vampire killing another?

"Intimidation," Pam spoke up, crossing her legs neatly as she did. "They wanted to show they could take Eric's business and job; once they did, no one would confront them for it without suffering the same fate.

"Brutal." I sometimes forgot the extent of corruption the need for power can contain.

"Effective."

That Eric understood the motives for the planned hostile takeover took me aback. I was really in over my head here. Realizing this, I thought that now might be a good time to cut and run, while I still could.

"Hey," I said, glancing at Eric. "I haven't eaten in what seems like forever." It was true—I couldn't remember the last time I'd chewed anything, even gum; I guess his blood had kept me fulfilled. "I think I'll go get something."

Eric stood up to come with me, but I shooed him away. "I'm ok, I promise. I'll just go to the corner on Main Street; there's a café there, right?" Eric just nodded, told me my purse was on his desk. I looked at him, watched his lips move and leaned down into him, pressing hard again, that desperate, passionate kiss that I wanted to remember for the rest of my life, before turning my back, straightening my falling features and retrieving my purse from Eric's office. I numbed myself, cooled my blood with apathy and pushed open the back door, vowing no to cry until I was at twelve hours away—when Eric couldn't come after me.

But I didn't make it out of the building, because as soon as I felt the cool night air on my face, I also felt a metal cylinder brace itself against my forehead.

"Aww," A female voice said, and in a moment I recognized it as my female captor. The witch. "You wouldn't want to leave the party before it starts, would you?" My eyes went wide and speech left me, abandoning my conscious mind, leaving only Ohgodohgodohgodohgod to ring over and over as I was stepped back into the club, each footfall sounding like a sonic boom. Adrenaline shocked my system, made my heart lurch out of gear and then beat double time to make up for the error.

It was with the gun to my head that I was brought back into the room where Pam and Eric were already standing, fangs out, ready to attack.

"Down, vampire," she directed at Eric. "Take a step," she warned, as he legs quivered beneath him, begging for action, "And she gets a bullet in the brain. I was never that great at biology, but I remember 'dead' is sort of a permanent state for humans."

"I will bathe my hands in your blood," Eric growled, voice low.

"Ooh," she mocked. "Not while I have your pet, you won't."

"What do you want?" He asked, his tone so menacing I swallowed down the fear that was trickling into my throat like bile.

"I want what you have," she said, running her tongue across her teeth. "I want your club—and I would have by now, if this little idiot," she shook me, pulled by my hair, "hadn't killed Johan."

"Why was he so important?" I asked, my voice barely a register above 'whisper.' "He was only giving you fifteen percent—without him, you would get everything." I was looking at her closely now; her eyes were wild, jumped from face to face, never stopping, never making eye contact over a second. The gun was shaking slightly on my forehead.

"I can't exactly be sheriff like this, can I?" She snarled, gesturing to herself with her free hand.

"He was going to turn you?" Eric's lip was raised in a sneer that was made all the more malicious by his predatory stance—and teeth.

"You were going to pay that human lackey to stake Johan so you could take over everything," I realized, aloud.

"What a smart girl," the woman cooed. "You figured it out." I wanted to punch her, humiliate her for the imprisonment she'd subjected me to, for endangering my life, Eric's livelihood. She was obviously insane; her pupils were dilated, stuck open and she looked flushed, slightly sweaty.

"This is your plan?" Pam questioned. "You came, barely armed to our property, one human against two vampires and a girl who can obviously take care of herself? What were you planning on doing?"

"You," the witch gestured to Eric, her short, dark-colored nails standing out against the pallor of her skin as it waved through the air, "Are going to sign the deed to this place over to me. I'll take it from there."

"And how do you plan on making us do that?" Pam took a step closer, testing the witch. My entire body tense, clamped down when, with a thin finger, she pulled the hammer back and tensed the trigger.

"Pam, don't come closer," I begged, knowing the woman would have no qualms about making good on her promise to blow me away.

"I will make this business go to hell," the witch said, sweetly. I know you can feel my power. If you don't give me what I want, I will burn your livelihood to the ground." Her eyed were dark with pleasure; she was drunk with the idea of her authority.

"Hey," Eric said, his voice sweet and slow; he was going to glamour her, try to get her under his control. "Focus on me."

She looked doubtful, glance at me once before meeting Eric's eyes.

"It's alright," he said, putting his hands up, showing his innocence. "We're going to give you the deed, and everything's going to be fine."

"Fine," she mumbled; she'd begun to shake and I felt the butt of the gun dancing across my skin, the metal hard and impersonal, though it had the power to rip my life away at any moment.

"Yes, you're going to be great," Eric continued. "Point the gun at me, that's who you want; this is all about us—forget about the girl."

"All about us," Her eyes were wide, and the arc was slow, but the gun found its way to Eric, and she kept it trained on him.

"You're doing so well," Eric was weaving his words thick, now, trying to make her let her guard down completely so he could control her completely, use her like a puppet.

"You know what?" She asked, voice dreamy, like she was about to be put under for a surgery.

"What?" Eric asked, his voice laced with paternal care.

"I think you should find someone that works better on,' She snapped, all hints of her transfixion gone. The gun went off in her hand, one, two, three, and all hit directly into Eric's chest. He went to his knees, then fell forward, a look of brief surprise crossing over his features before they went slack and he fell into oblivion. Without thinking, without making a decision, I grabbed at the handle of the gun, clawing at her hand there, punching at her elbow so her grip would weaken. The gun clattered to the floor and she fell after it, trying to reach it before I could. It didn't matter, though, because Pam had vaulted over to us, tackling the witch just as she wrapped her hands around my throat, digging her nails into the arteries there hard, so the blood flow was blocked entirely.

"Unhn," I grunted, seeing spots as air decided that they had stayed away from my lungs long enough. I lay still for a moment, trying to wade through the dark until I felt like I could move again without the world trying to knock me off its axis. I crawled over to Eric, who was lying in a pool of his own blood; his hair dipped into it, making it scarlet against his skin. He didn't move, didn't respond when I tugged at him, tried to shake him awake. Pam sighed behind me, and I turned in time to see her take her teeth from the witch's neck before looking the insane woman in the eye and breaking her neck with a quick, deft snap that sent a shudder through my spine. I knew it had to be done; the woman wouldn't have stopped coming after us, no matter what, but killing was still killing.

"Pam," I yelled, breaking her out of her blood swoon. "Come here!" She did, moving fast so that she disappeared and then was immediately next to me, looking down at Eric with serious eyes. He was pale, and still unconscious; the feeling of fear for him was paralyzing as I gazed down at his body; vampires were not supposed to get hurt, to fall down and stay there. I couldn't feel him, couldn't feel his presence through the bond and that shook me to the bone; I felt alone and cold without his soothing presence.

"He should be alright," she said, worry drawing around her voice, "But he's still losing a lot of blood."

"Bite me," I ordered, not stopping to second-guess myself. He face went blank in surprise, but she did as told, lifted my wrist gently like a mother rearranging a newborn, and bit delicately, licking the blood off her teeth as it started to pour down my wrist. I held the liquid to Eric's mouth, allowed it touch his tongue so the anti-coagulating agent would kick in and let the wound stay open long enough to get some sort of benefit from it.

Soon enough, he'd started swallowing the blood that had begun collecting in his throat, dripping down his cheeks like fake tears. When he opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity, I pressed my hand to his cheek and took my hand away. Pam licked the cut clean and I ran my thumb across his mouth, wiping traces that had spilled over back in. His tongue reach up, licked my skin and his eyes shut for a moment as he savored the taste. The bullets that had hit him popped out onto his shirt, then rolled off onto the floor, clicking like heavy change.

"Eric," I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. I blinked and one fell on his cheek, remaining static for a moment before rolling off into his hair. "I'm so glad you're ok." I brought my face down to his, breathed in his scent and a sob found its way out of my throat. "I was so scared."

His eyes were large, making the blue stand out even more against the whites. His hand went to my face, my hair, and I brushed back against his skin, like a cat being caressed.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice haunted, confused; "But I don't know who you are."

THE END

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For now…