Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

The room was crowded with people, filling the space with chatter and the clinking of flatware on fine porcelain. The majority of those gathered were Cardassian, but Weyoun spied a few Vorta amongst the crowd. A gul was being promoted this evening, and Weyoun was pressed into attending this dinner, though he would rather spend his time alone.

It had been two months since those four days of lustful heaven with Lilith, two months since he had drunk a drop of blood. He was full vampire now, and had learned much from his teacher. His vision, hearing, and smell were extraordinary, and he would often stroll outside Central Command just to gaze up at the heavens. Despite the lights of the capital, he could still see the ocean of stars above him, and it pleased him greatly. Lilith had returned his long-lost sense of aesthetics to him as well.

It was strange regaining such a gift. On the one hand, he had always prided himself on his non-partiality, and it pleased him that, as a Vorta, he could ignore physical attributes and focus on motives and personality. Now, with the gift restored, he found it a little more challenging to ignore things such as a strange hairstyle or annoying voice.

But he had discovered just how beautiful his people were, and it pleased him to glance around the room at all the guests. His eyes lingered on the sole female Vorta in the room, and he smiled to himself as he examined her. Her purple eyes were accentuated by long, full lashes, and when she smiled, her eyes lit up and sparkled in the light. He found her enticing, and he slowly made his way through the crowd toward her.

She wandered over to the table with kanar, tulleberry wine and other spirits, and his hand gently stopped her from reaching for the wine.

"Allow me," he murmured softly, smiling at her. He poured her a glass and another for himself, then focused his attention on her.

"I see Benath couldn't be persuaded to join you here."

Her alluring eyes sparkled as she smiled coyly at him. "He's missing quite an enjoyable evening. His loss."

He laughed softly and raised the glass of wine to his lips. Although every other food displeased him with its ashen texture and flavor, wine was the only thing he enjoyed. Its rich flavor and body sat well with him, and his smiled as he took a precious sip.

"Morelya, correct?"

She bowed her head in affirmation. He could smell her youth and suspected that she was only on her second or third clone.

"And you are Weyoun," she said softly with another smile. He smiled back and nodded.

"I see my reputation proceeds me."

She shrugged and he led her over to a table in a dark corner. The evening was getting on, and since the toasts and tedious speeches were over, the crowd was starting to dissipate into small groups and pairs. Already a few Cardassians had sneaked away with young, beautiful women on their arms. Damar had left with a rather attractive woman named Ziyana, and Weyoun had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the thought.

Instead he focused on the beautiful Vorta in front of him. Her alluring eyes called out to him, and he could almost feel a haze coming from her, like tendrils of smoke that wrapped their arms around him. Her pale, winged ears were partially covered in her hair, which was pulled back into a simple hairstyle. Her scent was thick in it, and he breathed in deeply when she looked away and closed his eyes briefly.

She smelled of warm spices and kava nuts, and he smiled to himself at the memory of their taste. The smell of it almost made his mouth water, but the thought of how her blood might taste made his mouth water in earnest. He was so hungry... He swallowed and composed himself, taking another sip of wine.

He made small talk with her for the rest of the evening, but soon the party got a little too rowdy for both their tastes. Weyoun stood and offered her his hand.

"Allow me to escort you back to your quarters," he said, cocking a handsome eyebrow. She inclined her head and took his hand gratefully, and he lightly pulled her to her feet and followed her from the room.

As they walked back together to her quarters, he focused on initiating a bond with her. He saw his chance as she turned to him at her door, and he cast it toward her. Morelya shivered slightly as the bond ran through her, but she smiled.

"Sorry, I felt...nevermind. Would you like to come in?"

He laughed softly as he knew he had been successful. "It would be my pleasure."

Her room was very neat, with very few commodities. His weren't that different, but he had a few more consoles at his disposal than she. Morelya took a seat at a small comfortable looking chair, and Weyoun took the seat opposite her.

"May I be frank, Weyoun?"

"Of course," he replied with a small smile.

"You acted...strangely at the dinner. You were quieter than I expected, and you kept..."

His smile widened. "Speak your mind, my dear. I want to hear what you have to say."

She sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I found our conversation quite delightful," she said diplomatically. "But you kept staring at me like...like a Cardassian."

He raised an eyebrow, and his grin spread across his face. "May I be just as frank with you, my dear?"

She nodded. He stood up and sat on the small table separating the two chairs so that he was mere foot away from her.

"You claim I was rather quiet at dinner. To be honest, I was too busy admiring a beautiful woman to waste my time with talk."

Her eyes widened at his words, and they stayed that way as he stepped forward and blocked her into her chair. His gaze hungrily took in her enticing features, from her eyes to her winged ears to her full, plump lips. A lazy finger trailed down her ear and she gasped.

"Weyoun...you're scaring me..."

"There's no need to be afraid," he purred, massaging her ear. She closed her eyes and moaned, gripping the fabric of the chair in near delirium. He was used to the sensation, but he could tell she was not. She convulsed a little as his teasing, skillful fingers danced over her, and without another word, he pressed his lips to hers.

He settled himself on her lap and continued to kiss her, and he was surprised and delighted that he could actually taste her skin. It had a sweet salinity that he found enjoyable, and he chuckled to himself as he explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She breathed in a quick intake of breath and battled back with her own tongue, and they fought for dominance. Weyoun won out and ran his fingers through her hair, ripping out the band that held it bound, and it tumbled down her back, sending a wave of her aroma toward him. He moaned in satisfaction and trailed his lips toward her ear, where he let his tongue dance over her ridges.

"Has anyone told you," he whispered in her ear, "that you smell heavenly?"

"Not really, why?" she breathed, convulsing again his tongue lightly traced the outline of her ear.

"Because you do, my dear." He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her intoxicating scent, and he felt his fangs advance. He caressed her neck with his lips, and she groaned at the foreign sensations that flooded her. He flicked his tongue over her sensitive area right behind her ear, and she whimpered in pleasure, slowly running a hand over his ear. He pressed harder in response, and his fangs gently scraped her skin.

She was frozen, immobile as he removed her vest and shirt. His blood-red eyes found her wide, cloudy purple ones and he smiled. Urgent, burning hands explored her exposed, creamy skin, and she closed her hazy eyes. His fingers undid her bra and tossed it aside with her other clothes, then lightly teased the pale, sensitive flesh beneath, causing her to gasp and moan.

"I never realized it would feel this good..." she groaned huskily, fingering the edge of his vest. He grinned and let her remove it.

"You and I have much to learn, Morelya," he whispered back, returning to her neck. Her breasts pressed against his bare skin, and he found he liked the sensation of feeling her beating heart reverberate through his chest.

He closed his eyes, and, without another thought, he sunk his fangs into the flesh of her neck.

She cried out in pain, but that soon settled down into cries of intense pleasure. She convulsed with him, moved with him as he drank the hot, sweet liquid that trickled from the puncture wound. Just as he suspected, it had a nutty flavor with a hint of spice that he found intoxicating, and his nails dug into her skin as a lustful madness overtook him. He could hardly control himself as he drank from her, but he only heard encouragement pour from her trembling lips. Bloodlust held him in a tight grip as the warm, sweet blood trickled down his throat.

He pulled away about halfway toward the danger line, and he kissed her warm, soft lips fiercely. She whimpered in the intoxicating lust that gripped her, eagerly responding to every one of his movements.

He stood and pulled her toward the bed...

…

Morelya awoke and groaned: her head was pounding, her stomach ached and she felt an intense pain in a place she had never felt it before. She shot up at that, and the covers slipped off her naked body. She stared down at herself in shock; she did not recall undressing at all.

She winced as the sunlight hit her eyes. Her head pounded at the unwelcome light, and she groaned again. What had happened last night? She felt like she had been hit with a phaser on heavy stun, that or she had drunk about twenty gallons of liquor. Neither seemed likely. The last thing she remembered was the party...

Those damn Cardassians! Had they slipped her a narcotic, then dragged her back here and raped her? If that was the case, she would personally see the execution of whoever was responsible. She didn't see what the hell Weyoun saw in those drunken louts, but then it was the Founders who were responsible for this strange alliance...

Weyoun was at the party...

Yes...the diplomat had poured her some wine...they had talked a little...he had offered to escort her home...then they were at her door and everything went blank.

No...Weyoun wouldn't...most Vorta were interested in mating rituals, yes, but Weyoun would never experiment with one of his own kind!

Would he?

She realized how little she knew about him. Every Vorta in Cardassian space knew him as the zealous liaison to the Cardassians, but beyond that...

But he would never! He wouldn't dare touch one of his own kind in that manner. All Vorta touted their superiority like a badge on their sleeves, at least when they weren't working, and to use a fellow Vorta for something like this...

Maybe she was thinking about this the wrong way. Had she...had she initiated things between them? But...how? Mating with someone would have been fascinating, if she could remember how it had felt. All she had left was a headache and pain between her legs, and she knew exactly what it meant. What had happened last night?

She realized she needed to get to work, and so she showered quickly and got dressed for the day. There were no clothes on the floor, no PADD or even a lingering smell to give her any indication that Weyoun had been in here last night.

She was quiet all day, to the bemusement of her colleague, Benath. He asked her if she was all right, and she nodded absentmindedly. He didn't press her, and she continued sorting communications in silence.

By the end of the day, she was itching to get out of that room. She felt like she was crawling out of her skin, and she hurried back to her room and flopped down on the bed. Tears of confusion and frustration streamed down her cheeks until she heard the buzzer at the door.

She quickly dried her tears and composed herself, then strode across the room and unlocked the door.

Weyoun was leaning in the doorway, a cocky, satisfied look on his face. For some reason, she felt relief at the sight of him, and when he came in, she didn't feel the need to protest. Once the door was closed, he slowly wrapped his arms around her and laughed.

"Oh, I do apologize for how you must feel right now, and for leaving you this morning. I did not wish to, but you understand that I had duties."

She did not answer, simply kissed him hard and desperately, and he chuckled into her mouth. He found her delightfully entertaining, and he was more than happy to oblige her need for him. They embraced and kissed each other, but then he broke away when he felt cool wind brush the back of his neck. He twisted around and stared in awe at the newcomer perched on Morelya's couch, and she clapped her hands and laughed. The sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Well, Weyoun," Lilith said with a grin, "Long time, no see."