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He sat in a chair by the fire in his study. A book laid open, forgotten on his lap. Alice was sprawled out on her stomach on the wooden floor, sketching. Everyone else was out hunting for the weekend.

As he stared into the orange flames, his mind was suddenly in another place.

[the reward]

He watched as the flames licked over the parts, engulfing them, sending a sickly sweet odor into the air. The purple cloud of smoke rose high, blocking out the stars that were shining in the night sky. He was disappointed. He liked when he could see the stars.

He felt someone approaching, but was not alarmed. The emotional climate of the person had the underlying tone of wildness; it was primitive. He recognized it as Maria. She stood next to him and put a tiny hand on his shoulder.

"I'm impressed. You helped us to win in your first battle," her smooth voice said as she stood on her tip-toes to whisper into his ear.

"Yes ma'am. I'm glad to have been able to do my duty," he replied respectfully.

He felt her emotions become softer, a little embarrassed, "You saved me, soldier."

She was referring to an earlier part of the battle. One of the newborns in the opposing army had lunged at her and he had been close by. He took him out swiftly, only getting bit on the hand in the process, before moving on in the fight. He hadn't even exchanged glances with her when it happened.

"I suppose I might have, ma'am. But I reckon you may have been all right without my interference." He rubbed his hand where he had been bit. It itched almost as much as his throat at the moment.

"The venom will sting for a few days, but it will fade," she explained.

She then stood in front of him and moved her long dark curls to one side. The light of the fire cast an eerie glow onto her and in the light he could see a small, crescent-shaped scar on her pale neck.

"It leaves a scar, but the stinging will cease."

She grabbed his hand quickly, then. He was surprised at the change in her emotions. Her underlying feral emotions dominated, mixed with lust and appreciation. He eyed her curiously.

She brought his hand closer to her and then moved her face to where he had been bitten. She pressed her lips to the irritated scar gently, causing a tingly feeling to shoot through him. The wound was too new for him to feel anything but discomfort at her touch, but he thought, possibly incorrectly, that she meant well.

He allowed himself to get caught up in her emotions. He liked the desire she was feeling for him. It was a lot better than the hate and rage he had felt in battle just minutes ago. He found himself wanting to be closer to her, his animal instincts kicking in.

She helped this along by taking his face in her hands and tugging him down so that they were cheek to cheek.

"Kiss my neck, Jasper," she whispered seductively into his ear, "And that's an order."

They were together through the night. It was rough, fulfilling a deep animalistic need. When she was finally finished with him, she smiled, but the emotions he felt from her didn't match her face. He felt that she was satisfied, but almost smug.

She didn't give him too much time to contemplate it though.

"Shall we hunt?"

He nodded and they stood together. As they walked away from what was now just a pile of ashes, she suddenly turned and kissed him brutally on the mouth.

"Keep winning me new cities to hunt in and you can be assured that you will be rewarded," she said with another one of those smiles that didn't fit her emotions. On that note, she ran off to find her next prey. He followed blindly.

He gasped as he came out of his thoughts. He felt that if it were possible, he would be in a cold sweat, trembling. It was a sickly feeling--he felt shaky, vulnerable. He hated to be vulnerable.

He was suddenly aware of two tiny hands on either side of his face and then there was a flash -taking his face in her hands-.

She quickly took her hands away, understanding the panicked look in his eyes.

"Jasper?" she whispered tenderly.

He focused on the person standing in front of him, a petite silhouette in front of the fire.

"Alice," he whispered automatically, instinctively reaching for her small hands. She let him take them into his larger ones and squeezed reassuringly.

"Lost in thought?" she stated, more than questioned.

At his nod, she smiled apologetically, "I saw you but I didn't understand…not until I felt it from you…"

"You…you felt what?" He hadn't been aware of projecting his feelings onto her in his daydream.

"I felt…despair? I think. Some confusion…some apathy," she explained.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

"It's okay. I just wanted to check that you were all right," her warm eyes were concerned as she searched his face for an answer.

"I'm all right," he reassured her, his thoughts becoming more clear now. "Just…reminiscing."

She nodded and brushed her fingers against his face lightly before going back to her drawing. She knew it was likely that he was remembering something they had already talked about. If he wanted to share with her, he would do so in his own time.

He got up from his chair then, placing his book carefully on his seat. He strolled over to the wooden window seat and sat, his back against the wall, staring out into what was just starting to become the morning. It was light in the distance, but still dark as he gazed out into the forest.

[the punishment]

"RUN Charlotte!" Peter exclaimed from beside him. The white-blonde woman in front of him did just that. Peter, with one last pleading glance to Jasper, followed after her.

Peter's look begged him to understand, to not come after them. Jasper closed his eyes, feeling a strange warmth coming from both of them, despite their determination and fear. He liked the warmth. It felt…very unfamiliar. But somewhat…pleasant? He hadn't felt true positive emotions like that in quite some time. He sent waves of calm in Peter's direction, hoping they would reach him, and that Peter would understand. No one would chase them.

"Do you want me to bring them back, Whitlock?" Davis, another of Maria's favorites, along with he and Peter, asked.

"No. Let them be. It's not worth it." Jasper ordered. He was higher in rank than Davis, and therefore had to be obeyed.

He felt Davis's reluctance, and then acceptance.

Jasper wondered briefly where they would go, what they would do without Maria's army. Would they start their own? Would he one day have to fight against Peter, his comrade, for Maria? He hoped that day would never come.

The two finished off the remaining newborns alone, not needing Peter's help. All Jasper had to do was keep the climate calm to a point of lethargy and he could keep them under control. When the last one had been destroyed, he sighed, their anguish still resonating throughout his body.

"I'll meet you back at the house," Davis said, exiting.

Jasper only nodded, a bit too late. He felt weak, drained. He needed to feed.

He gathered himself together, setting the remains on fire and slowly trekking to the main house to find Maria. It was easier to hunt when the two of them went together. They could sometimes convince a small group of humans to follow them and then feed on more than just one for that night. Sometimes they fed on up to three or four, each, until they were overly satisfied and feeling stronger.

As he got closer, he saw that she was standing on the wooden porch of the house. Her emotions told him she was angry and slightly disappointed. Mostly angry. He approached her carefully and then mustered up calm feelings to send to her.

"Stop, Jasper," she ordered sharply.

"You're angry," he stated simply, withdrawing the calm.

"Peter is gone," she said, a flicker of malice present in her voice and emotions. Jasper was wary of the malice, but it soon faded into anger again.

"Yes. He and a newborn…they ran off."

"And you just let them, is this correct?"

"I assume you talked with Davis."

As if on cue, Davis came out of the house behind Maria. His emotions were arrogant, satisfied. "Yes, I explained the situation," he answered for her.

Maria smiled at Davis, "Go fetch me a few from San Angelo. Their blood tastes the sweetest to me. I'll meet with you later. You've done well," she instructed him.

Davis silently brushed past Jasper as he left to do Maria's bidding, but Jasper could feel his excitement. This wasn't going to be good.

"Follow me, please, my dear Jasper," her voice was bittersweet and he could feel her anger and excitement as well.

She led him through the old house, to the basement.

"You understand that when you go against me, there are consequences," she said matter-of-factly.

"I never 'went against you,' Maria," he defended himself.

She spun around and glared at him, "You do not address your leader that way."

He tasted her emotions, feeling no difference in her fury, "I apologize," he replied.

She continued, "I have no use for those who choose to betray my wishes. When you let Peter run off, you did just that. Therefore, you must prove to me that you do wish to serve me…that you want to continue to be here with me."

"I would do anything to prove my loyalty," he responded immediately, though internally, he was starting to question whether that was true.

"Great," she said as they reached the bottom of the stairs, "start proving." And with that said, ten wild, brand new vampires stepped out of the shadows.

* * * * *

Twenty-two. There were twenty-two new crescents etched into his skin. Two on his jaw, four on his back, thirteen across his stomach, one above his eye, and two on his right shoulder. He had fought them off of him, sometimes a few at a time, dismembering until they were all destroyed. Breathing heavily, he took a box of matches out of his pocket and started the fire. There had been so many fires…

Maria came down from her perch at the top of the stairs, applauding him slowly, her red eyes shining in amusement. "Well, Jasper Whitlock, I must say your fighting skills are immaculate."

"I learn from the best," he stated, desperately trying to ignore the burning scars all over his body.

She strolled around him like a hawk circling her prey. She was impressed, but he could still feel a bit of anger flare spontaneously every few seconds.

"Mmm…I suppose I can't disagree with that," she said, still circling.

"Have I put your fears at ease, then?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't want to fight him now. He didn't know if he could turn against her.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Jasper. I'm still not so sure…how do I know that you weren't just protecting yourself for your own good? I mean…it would make sense that you would just fight to save yourself, not for me…" she speculated.

"Name what you need from me, Maria, and I shall obey," he stated, hoping she wouldn't request for him to fetch Peter for her. He didn't know if he could do that. He was puzzled at the ambiguous nature his thoughts had taken lately.

She was closer to him now. His instincts were screaming at him to back away, but he knew it was inevitable. Maria would do with him what she wanted. And he knew he would let her.

He felt only her satisfaction as she took his left wrist to her mouth. "Hold still, dear Jasper. It will be over soon," she whispered into his arm. And then she bit him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried not to grab his wrist away from her. It would hurt worse if he moved.

She kept her teeth in his skin for what seemed to be just a minute or two, pooling all of her venom into his skin. It started out as an itch, then a burn, then searing pain. He couldn't hold it back anymore. Defensively, he lunged at the exposed top part of her chest, biting and taking her by surprise. She sprung away from him then, crouching in front of him, her eyes flashing.

He was ready to fight her, when she laughed, her emotions giving way to that consistent wildness that he always felt from her emotional climate. She stood up slowly, all feelings of anger replaced with pride and a small flash of lust. Very slowly, she moved to stand in front of him.

"You surprised me. A very good move. You can stay…but I don't want another slip-up like this again from you, Jasper."

He didn't say anything, his wrist burning to the point that he felt he would cry out if he opened his mouth. He refused to let her see him do that.

Her emotions spiked in excitement. "Davis is back. If he's brought enough, I shall take pity on you and share. Meet me upstairs when you're ready," she told him as she started up the stairs.

At the top step he heard her pause. "Oh, and Jasper?"

"Hmm," was all he could manage.

He saw her peak through the wooden banister down at him. They locked eyes, red on red.

"I don't want to destroy you…you're a major asset. Don't force me into that position." And with that said, she left him.

The first thing he saw were her golden eyes. So kind. So concerned. So unlike the red he had just been remembering.

He then noticed that his right hand was gripping his left wrist tightly. He relaxed and let his hands drop into his lap.

Alice was sitting across from him on the window seat. Her legs were pulled up to her chin, her arms wrapped around them. She looked closely at him, waiting for him to speak.

"More flashbacks…I'm all right," he repeated his earlier statement.

"You are all right," she told him, "we're together."

He nodded, leaning his head against the cool glass window.

"Jazz."

Jasper looked over at his Alice. Her face was calm, her eyes were searching his, her emotions were full of concern.

He opened his arms and she crawled into his lap, her back against his stomach and her head nestled under his neck. He closed his arms around her, taking in her scent, but also her emotions. He soaked up the purity of her love, her warmth.

She took his hand in hers and stroked the back of it daintily. "I want to show you what you look like when you get lost like that," she said after a while.

"Show me," he whispered into her ear.

She slipped out of his arms and grabbed her sketch pad and then ran back, fitting herself into the same position she had been in a second ago.

She opened it to the exact drawing and he looked over the top of her head.

She had captured him perfectly. No camera or mirror could ever come close to her drawing of him. His eyes were tortured and foggy. They stared out the window, not seeing what was outside. His face was like stone, blank, but at the same time, she had captured the pain that he had been feeling.

"Did you draw this from what you observed or what you felt from me?" he asked.

"Both," she replied steadily.

He held her tighter, letting her feel how much he cared for her, how much he appreciated her sharing in any of his lingering pain and not judging him. She accepted him fully, and he did the same for her.

She stroked his hand again, her love-filled emotions the same as his own. She knew him. Every part of him. And she understood about these rare bad days.

They looked at themselves in the window. The reflection was slightly distorted, but it made them appear to be just one person.