Sorry it's been a little while since I updated last. But don't worry, I haven't finished the story yet, so there's much more to come!

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~TLD

Part Eleven: Under the Skin

It was daybreak and, for the first time in her life, Wednesday welcomed the rising sun. She'd thrown open her dark drapes sometime after 3am – after waking from her dream – a nightmare really – and had been sitting, curled up in a tight ball, on top of her sheets, staring into the darkness out her window and waiting for the sun to dispel the final remnants of her horribly, enticingly, seductively evil dream.

Her eyes bore the dark bags of going without sleep, but she had refused to let herself doze even a moment after waking, for fear that the dream might take hold again and that she'd lack the willpower to push it away as a nightmare.

She tried to forget it. To push it out of her mind. To ignore the deep longing it created in her belly. To forget the power she felt coursing through her body as she struck and the flavor that had set her body on fire as she drank.

It was just a dream, she told herself, over and over. It wasn't real. That is NOT what I want.

Wednesday tried to think through the dream and what it meant, carefully. Up until meeting Joel, well – new Joel, Wednesday had always written off vampires as a superstition invented to prey upon men's fear of losing power. You know, like with the myth of the succubus – a female that drains a man of his vitality – you know, literally. Fear of impotence. Wednesday smiled. Men were horribly predictable.

So, within that frame of reference, Wednesday had just assumed the myths of vampirism played the same role – female vamp sucking the life, taking the power, away from her male victims.

That part of the myth had always intrigued her.

What scared her now was that this dream didn't center around that aspect at all.

Suddenly she was contemplating the physical aspects.

She hoped it had to do with her attraction to Joel on a basic, human level. She couldn't hide it from herself anymore. She cared for him. She desired him. She L – L – Loved (she forced the word through) him. It was only human that she'd dream of him.

But, she thought, that doesn't explain the blood…

She shook her head against the absurdity of all. First of all, it didn't matter – She was NOT a vampire. So she didn't have to worry about killing Joel. And secondly, it was a dream. Dreams don't always mean something.

She sighed heavily. Dammit, she thought. She decided it was time for her to get up and face the day. After last night's attack, Joel will need help getting home and she needed answers about why her house seemed to become a breeding ground for bloodsuckers.

A soft knock at her door nearly caused her to jump out of her skin.

She stifled a small gasp with her fist.

"Wednesday?" came Joel's soft, low voice.

As she tried to slow her breathing, she kept silent. After a moment, Joel's footsteps faded into the distance as he went downstairs without her.

She clutched her knees harder to her chest and realized she needed another few minutes before she was ready to face the day, and Joel, after all.

Joel had assumed that he'd be the only one awake. The Addamses were creatures of night as much as he was and, if he hadn't been so anxious about his recent revelation, he knew he'd be in bed until at least noon. It was around 6 am.

So he was supremely shocked to find Morticia, wrapped in layers of black silk, sitting motionlessly in her Queen Anne, a steaming cup of henbane tea warming her hands. She didn't look at him as he approached. Her eyes appeared foggy, unfocused.

Joel stopped a few feet away from her, not wanting to scare her when she realized he was there. As the minutes ticked by, Joel felt awkward, staring at Morticia through her absorption. He turned to leave.

"You're up early," Morticia's clear voice stopped him.

Without turning, he replied, "I couldn't sleep." He turned, and smiled politely, "You?"

Morticia smiled over her tea, "No, I couldn't sleep either." Her eyes seemed sad and distant. As they began to glaze over, returning Morticia to her distraction, Joel felt compelled to speak.

"I fear I have brought a terrible evil down upon you, upon all of you," Joel blurted. He moved to sit in a chair across from Morticia.

Her eyes returned to his face. They narrowed slightly, "Yes?"

Joel felt ashamed under her scrutiny. Head in his hands, he continued, "Apparently," his voice was filled with venom, "my schoolmates haven't moved on in my absence. My presence is required." He lifted his head and his eyes burned with a violent hatred that Morticia had never seen in him before. "So they've come to fetch me back," he said, turning his burning eyes on Morticia.

In a vague corner of his mind, through his rage, he noticed Morticia's body tighten as she reacted to his ferocious gaze. Mustering all the control he could find, he toned down the force of his gaze. Slightly cooler, he continued, "And, worst of all, she is coming with them."

He dropped his head, unsure how to continue. Because of this, he didn't notice Morticia's small nod, as she confirmed her feelings from the night before with Joel's confession. A steely look of determination crossed her features and her eyes narrowed in preparation of a battle she'd waited ages to finish.

"Lilith," she said, softly.

Joel's head shot up as if he'd been electrocuted. "What did you say?" he gasped.

Morticia smiled slightly. It didn't reach her eyes. "Yes," she said simply, "I know her. We've met."

Joel watched as Morticia's usually stoic face contorted into an angry, if not slightly wicked, expression. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, rose from her chair, and began pace the room.

Her back to Joel, she began, "It was many years ago. I suppose I was a few years younger than you are now, and my mother decided that Ophelia, my sister, and I should attend finishing school, like all proper young ladies." She laughed once, without humor.

"She was interested in Ophelia," she continued, slowly, as if reliving the experience as she spoke. "Ophelia shares her coloring, you know, blond and pale." She shuddered slightly with disgust. She turned back to Joel, smiling sardonically, "Woe befalls the unfortunate." She sighed.

Joel noticed her voice sounded slightly envious. He smiled internally at her logic.

Her smile faded and she faced Joel with an unreadable expression. "I told Lilith to leave Ophelia alone." Her eyes glinted wickedly, "Lilith seemed to find that amusing."

Her expression melted. She sighed heavily, "Well, I suppose it might have been. I was only 14 or 15 at the time, practically a child. Anyway, the lifestyle of a vampire may be glamorous, Ophelia certainly thought so, but I knew better."

She turned knowing eyes on Joel and approached in her seductive way. "Power," she whispered, "that's what she promises." She shifted her weight and stared deep into Joel's eyes. He squirmed under the power of her gaze, and wished to back up, to give himself more space, but didn't for fear of revealing himself a coward. Finally, she spoke again, "But that's what she takes."

She turned abruptly, moving back toward her chair as if the conversation had drained her of all energy.

Joel heaved a sigh of relief to be released from her stare and found a seat for himself. When he could speak again, he said, "What did she do when you told her to back off?"

To this Morticia smiled. "I've always had an affinity for poison, Joel. Poisons, potions, acids…" She let this last word slide into a hiss. "She came for me one night, as I slept. I heard her coming, though, and when she grabbed me by the throat, I was ready. I flung the acid into her face." Her smile was pronounced now, and deliciously wicked. "She screamed," she added, before lapsing into silence as if savoring the memory. "I reached for the stake I'd made, but before I could drive it through her heart, she grabbed my wrist."

Morticia rolled up the sleeve of her traditional black gown and offered her wrist to Joel. He saw the unmistakable imprints of a human hand, dug deep into her flesh. It was like a bruise that never healed, but deep into the flesh, like Lilith's grip had killed all of the tissue underneath. Joel could run his fingers in the grooves that Lilith's hand had made.

Joel thought he understood why Morticia always wore long sleeves now.

Morticia rolled her sleeve back down, "Of course, she healed from the acid burns in a day or two. This, however…" her eyes returned to their wicked glint. "Now it's my turn to leave a mark."