I staggered away from her, the pain in my head worse than you could ever imagine. I have not felt anything like this in the longest of times, not since Alistair and I were separated for the first time. Over the past few months, I have had pains like this, but never as bad. Never in front of anyone either. Not even Delilah knew. I attributed it to a lack of feeding, born out of my own misery. I hadn't had the desire to be around anyone, much less feed on them.

"Shit," I cursed, and stumbled into a gully on the edge of the woods. The pain was so intense that it would not allow me to continue using my full speed. I had made it this far, and now I would have to walk at a normal pace…if I could even manage that. My stomach churned and I once again dropped to the ground, the contents of my stomach threatening to spill out onto the grass. I fought the urge to wretch, absolutely certain that if I started I would not stop, and that my skull would explode shortly after.

Hunched over, I dug my nails into the ground and closed my eyes tight. What the hell could be causing this? I shook my head and tipped over onto my side, debating calling Delilah for a ride back to my home in Shreveport.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it back on my own.

I blinked a few times, but to no avail; my vision would not focus and the dizzy feeling only grew worse. The world around me felt as if it was spinning like a top and the more I dwelled on the motion, the sicker I felt. A pressure built in my head, like my brain had swelled and pressed itself against my skull. Blotches dotted my vision and I closed my eyes again. I began to feel myself fading out.

Groaning, I used what little strength I could muster to pick myself up off of the ground. Slowly I walked down the road, each of my legs feeling like they weighed a ton each. I coughed and sputtered, and brought trembling fingers to my lips as I felt a warm liquid trickle down my chin.

"Blood," I croaked. "Fuck me."

Wiping my mouth, I lowered myself onto the gravel and hung my head between my legs, overwhelmed by the vertigo, the pain…everything. I couldn't hold the tears back anymore; they flowed down my cheeks, clouding my eyes as I choked and shook with each sob that escaped my lips.

"Why?" I cried, balling my fists in my lap. "Why is this happening to me?" I swung my fist to the side and gravel sprayed out onto the road.

I wondered if I was being punished for all of the horrible things I had done during my time on earth, all of the pain I had caused, all the lives that were lost because of me. Guilt, anger and an incredible wave of sadness washed over me. And fear. For the first time in my 3,000 years I feared that I was dying. That this may be the end of me.

"I don't want to die," I whimpered, lip quivering as I spoke. "I don't wanna die."

I slid down deeper into the ditch and laid my head back, giving up on trying to make it home. My body would not carry me any farther than it already had.

. . .

My eyes fluttered open and immediately I closed them. The sun's light felt ten times brighter than normal. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes and used my free hand to push myself up onto my feet. Again I tried to use my speed and made it only a few yards before I collapsed and vomited. Angrily, I slammed my fist into the ground, crying hysterically and wishing that this would all end. If I was going to die, I didn't want to wait days for it to happen.

. . .

Voices boomed around me, all of them making the pain in my head worse. Feet shuffled on the gravel, bits of rock and dirt rolling down the small incline and crashing against the side of my head. A pair of hands grabbed at my shoulders and shook me gently, finger tips checked for a pulse. The person breathed a sigh of relief .

"Miss, are you okay? Can you hear me?" the man shook me again. "Hey, guys! I need help over here."

More footsteps.

"Hey, I know her! Move out of the way," he lifted my body up. "Adrian? You alright? Aw, shit, c'mon, Adrian."

"Jason, shut up," I groaned. "I can hear you," I told him. I covered my eyes with the palm of my hand. "You wouldn't happen to have a pair of sunglasses I could use, do you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Here," Jason placed them into my outstretched hand. Quickly, I slipped them on. "What are you doing out here on the edge of the road?"

"Oh, nothing, just enjoying the scenery and trying to get a tan. What about you?" I asked him. Jason rolled his eyes. "What time is it?"

He checked his cellphone. "One-thirty. How long have you been out here?"

"Only overnight. I think, anyway. Hey," I looked up at him, "do you think you could do me a big favor?"

"Sure, what is it?" Jason looked at me curiously.

"Could you give me a ride back to my apartment? I don't think I'll be able to get back on my own," I admitted. I hated letting on that I was weak. Sick. "I'm sorry to ask."

"No, it's fine. Can't you use your… your Hound-speed, or whatever the hell you call it, to get back there?"

"If I could, Jason, don't you think I'd be there already and not laying here in a ditch?"

"I guess so. Where's your apartment at?"

"In Shreveport. I'll give you directions."

. . .

"How are you feeling?" Jason asked, turning his head toward me briefly. I laid sprawled out on the backseat with my face pressed into the cushions.

"No better than last night…at least I'm conscious, though. Right?"

"And not in a ditch. I think you better start giving me directions now, Adrian."

All while trying not to vomit all over the back of his truck, I gave him the directions to my apartment and prayed we would make it there shortly. I don't think I could stand being awake one more minute, let alone being outside the comfort of my home. I need to rest. And to feed. It has been far too long since I have had any blood in my system, and that has surely taken a toll on me.

"Looks like we're here. You need help getting in?"

I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "Just to the door. I can take it from there."

Jason shut off the truck and walked around to the rear of the vehicle. He opened the door and hooked his strong hands under my arms and dragged my nearly limp body out of the back and onto the sidewalk. I wobbled for a minute before regaining some semblance of balance and began walking towards the house.

I lived in a two family home, I on the top floor, and an eccentric vampire couple on the bottom floor. The two of them collectively were 234 years old and looked to be in their late thirties appearance wise.

The building was tall with a brick façade and two white pillars flanking the large red double doors. I climbed the few front steps with Jason still by my side, and dug my hands in my pocket to retrieve my keys. Somehow I managed to unlock the door on my own and after gripping the doorknob and almost melting it in the process, stepped away from him.

"Thank you, Jason, really. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. Here's your glasses," I said, and handed them back to him.

"Thanks. You gonna make it up there okay? You're still not looking so hot," he said with a wary look.

"I should be fi—"

Before I could even finish my sentence, I doubled over and wretched onto the pavement. Jason grimaced. I gagged, dry heaved until I vomited the second time. I breathed heavily and wiped the bile from my lips. A warm liquid trickled down from my nose.

"Shit," I said, and dragged the word out. Another goddamn nosebleed.

"Shit is right. Anyone else know you've been sick like this?" he crouched down next to me.

"No," I shook my head. "Only you. I haven't told anyone. I also haven't been as bad as this either."

"What do you think'll help?"

I shrugged. "Sleep, blood; I don't know honestly. I've never felt this bad before. Look, I don't mean to cut this short and all, but I really need to get upstairs to bed. I can't be out here much longer. The sun is killing me."

Jason nodded and helped me to my feet one more, and this time led me up the stairs to my apartment. It took considerably longer to climb the flight of stairs and I almost gave up halfway. The simple task had become strenuous, painful. Every muscle, every bone ached. Hurt enough that I could have cried, again, and even in front of Jason. I hated this; being this sick. This weak…needy. Dependent upon a human.

The thought crossed my mind again that this may be karma getting me back. A fitting punishment, this pain and sickness, for a wicked one like me.

I unlocked the door and allowed Jason to leave, not before thanking him once more for going out of his way to help me. Using the last of my energy, I shimmered down the hall and onto my bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind me. Relishing the softness of the mattress, I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep.

. . .

"So, tell me, why is it that Jason Stackhouse is the first to know that you're ill, and not me?" Delilah's voice bellowed, startling me out of my deep, dreamless sleep.

My eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice and the door slamming simultaneously. The lights were still off in my bedroom, the only light coming from the hall. I rolled over and scooted back, sat up against the headboard.

"No one would have known if Jason hadn't found me," I mumbled.

"You think I wouldn't have caught on? Or Eric?" I winced at the sound of his name. "He's still your Keeper, you know."

"Well aware of that fact, Delilah, thanks."

"Did you go see him the other night at all?" she took a seat on the end of my bed.

"The other night?" I asked. "But no, I didn't. Sookie went out of her way to call Eric and tell him I was back, though," I glowered.

She laughed. "That must've made you happy."

"Oh, fucking ecstatic, really," I rolled my eyes. "I could have killed her.'

"Yeah, maybe if you could stand on your own two feet without any help," she teased. "I think you need to go see Eric, though. In all seriousness. And not because you need to make amends, but because it's not good for you to be away from him for so long."

"I guess you're right. You think it'll help any?" I frowned slightly.

She nodded. "I do. Hey—you said you met Eric before he was turned, right?"

"Well, I was there before he was turned and during. He was bounty," I raised an eyebrow at her. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. When did the pain start? And be honest."

"A few weeks after I left them," I answered slowly, staring at her suspiciously. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. Can't I be concerned about a friend?" Delilah asked defensively.

"No, no you can't. You're asking this shit for a reason. And I want to know what exactly that reason is.

She shrugged. "After I heard what happened, I started thinking."

"About?"

"Some old stories, legends that I heard. Micah told me them a while back and I thought of them when Sookie called."

I leaned forward. "And what are these stories? Don't hold anything back from me," I warned.

"I won't. Just don't worry about it, okay?" she paused for a minute. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better," I answered gruffly.

"Well enough to feed?" she smirked. "Your lovely neighbors have invited some humans over. For a 'party'," she made quotes with her fingers. "If you could really call it that. It's just a chance for them to gorge themselves on blood. Are you interested?"

"Of course. When have I ever turned down a chance to indulge"? I grinned.