By nightfall, Emilia was a mess, still unable to fully comprehend what she'd agreed to walk into. A vampire bar, of all places. It had been three months since the band had last performed, and now Joey had managed to procure them a gig at a goddamn vampire bar. In fact, the vampire bar. The one that she'd heard her friends talking about in hushed, electrified awe. Fangtasia had been the hot topic with the locals of Shreveport since it had appeared a year ago with glossy fliers, drink vouchers, and all the appeal that a bar of its kind could offer to the sometimes eager, but always curious crowds. Emilia's closest friends, Lisa and Everly, had been no exception to this. They'd both cooed with delight when they'd been informed of the impending gig.

"It's going to be epic Ems."

"It is about time you finally checked it out, you may be surprised ..." Everly said, somewhat reassuringly.

"You may even like it," Lisa had grinned, flashing her even, hyper-white teeth that she'd admitted were the result of online whitening kits and the braces she had been embarrassed about as a teen. Of course, Lisa had very little reason to be these days; her previously gangly, awkward adolescent appearance was replaced with legs that went all the way to her armpits and waves of brunette hair.

Emilia grimaced. "Not likely."

It wasn't that she disliked vampires on principle, she'd had nothing to do with them for that matter. Since they had come-out-of-the-coffin, so to speak, almost two years prior she'd managed to continue her own life as she always had. Sure, her two girlfriends had frequented the vampire bars, coming back with overly embellished stories about their own close encounters with the undead. And sure, Emilia had seen the news reports, heard the rumblings of fear and prejudice, and watched as the blonde-haired, prissy Nan Flanagan of the AVL debated and reassured the public on late-night television. But otherwise, in her average life that consisted of a crappy job, a crappier apartment, and a decent group of friends, she'd succeeded in remaining untouched by even a whiff of vampire.

That was until now.

Emilia smoothed the red dress over her thighs, considering her appearance in the mirror for the hundredth time that evening. Red was not her usual choice for a gig, nor was a dress this short, or this tight (although it did have blessed long sleeves that offered a modicum of modesty), but Lisa had foisted it upon her, declaring red Emilia's colour.

"You mean their colour," Emilia had said with a sniff, knowing all too well that Lisa was primping her for the vampire dress code. Her delicate sensibilities were overcome by her excitement about the band getting such a high-profile slot, knowing that if she wanted the gig to go well, or wanted any chance of continuing the band's surprising success, she should at least dress the part of a willing enthusiast. Even if she was anything but.

The Phantom League, a college band, had only done okay before the Great Revelation that allowed the vampires to announce their existence, and Emilia knew that they owed their growing appreciation in local circles to the continued acceptance of anything remotely alternative and underground. They could hardly be considered the country, swing, or light rock that made up most musical acts in the area. Emilia was reluctant to admit it, even now before their vampire club debut, but if they wanted to continue playing with any regularity, they would probably need to appeal to the crowd that frequented such establishments. And more than anything Emilia wanted the band to continue.

It wasn't just that the other members, all men and all slightly older than her twenty-one years, had steadily become like a family to her, it was that music was by far the most important part of Emilia's young life. So much so that as soon as she'd turned eighteen, she'd moved from her family home in Fort Worth just to attend a reputable music school in Shreveport. Which was consequently how Emilia ended up the lead singer, and only female, in The Phantom League, as well as how she ended up standing in her cramped bedroom, tying her hair up into a messy ponytail that could pass for deliberately grungy if she didn't try too hard to tame the loose curls that fell around her face, and deep-breathing. Pre-gig nerves were nothing new to her, but she'd never experienced this degree of nausea. It shocked her, and she couldn't pinpoint where the bout of anxiety was coming from.

Her phone rang, wrenching her out of the flood of fear that was plaguing her, and managed to smile at the name flashing on the caller ID.

"Hayes," Emilia said, turning away from the mirror and slipping into her combat boots while pressing the cell to her cheek with one shoulder. The boots may have been an odd combination with the pretty dress, one Emilia was sure Lisa would critique her on when they met up at the bar, but they were far more comfortable on stage than any heeled shoe.

"I'm here now Emilia," Hayes replied, a hint of annoyance evident in his otherwise cool voice, "Laken is too, are you planning on joining us?"

"Wow, so supportive …"

"I really don't know why you're being such a girl about this …"

"Sexist much?" Emilia interjected tartly, flicking off her bedroom light and passing through the loungeroom, groping for the small bag she had placed on the couch that contained her wallet and keys.

"It seems pretty chill here, I mean, I'm sure it will get busy later but need I remind you what a score it is landing a headlining show at Fangtasia," he continued, pointedly ignoring Emilia's remark.

Hayes was, by and large, a good guy, a good guy Emilia had briefly, for a second, considered with more than just platonic interest, but he was also kind of an arsehole. At least he could play guitar like nobody's business.

"I'm leaving now, I'll be there in twelve minutes," Emilia said, huffing down the stairs that lined the apartment building as she made her way to where the reliable, if old, light blue Hyundai Elantra was parked.

Hayes chuckled. "Always the control freak."

Emilia had timed the drive between her apartment and the bar down to the minute via online maps, even testing the trip in the cool light of day twice in the previous month just to ensure she would be able to get there with plenty of time. She hadn't banked on the swirling discomfort in her stomach, or the growing fear twinging the back of her neck every time she considered where she would be driving to, however.

"Tucker and Joey just got here," Hayes said, just as Emilia unlocked the car door. "See you soon Ems, and for once in your life just be cool." He hung up without a goodbye and Emilia sighed, knowing that in his way he was trying to calm her down.

She spared one last glance at her appearance in the car mirror, hoping that her makeup stayed just the right amount of rock-star smudgy before she backed out of the spot and began the drive to Fantasia, white-knuckling the steering wheel despite never going over the speed limit.


A surprisingly long line was already forming outside the square, black building, its neon sign winking in the growing darkness like a hellish beacon, and Emilia parked with care, taking a few moments to study the crowd and continue her practised, slow inhale and exhale. The individuals in the queue were much as she'd expected, latex and leather-clad, and their eagerness was immediately apparent as she made her way past the line. There was a lot of fevered chatting and adjusting of already revealing garments, and Emilia's more understated look garnered a few side-eyes as she ducked to the front of the queue.

"Emilia Claesson," she said to the bored-looking blonde woman who was standing at the door holding a clipboard with pink manicured hands. "I'm uh, with the band?"

"Is that a question?" The woman asked in clipped tones, sparing her a glance before referring to something on the clipboard.

"Sorry. No, I'm with the band," Emilia said, attempting a more confident voice that was undercut by a squeak when she realised that the pretty blonde was almost definitely a vampire. If Emilia was porcelain-skinned for Louisiana, then the woman standing in front of her was a painted corpse.

The vampire woman sniffed daintily, a flicker of interest sparking her otherwise cold eyes as she appraised Emilia and motioned for ID.

"Twenty-one? Ah to be young."

Emilia smiled, hoping it was an appropriate response, and the vampire quirked a fine eyebrow at her before gesturing her inside. There were a few groans from the waiting line of people, but Emilia ignored them as she stepped into the dim club.

It was pretty much exactly how she'd imagined it. Wide, gleaming bar behind which stood a man who was undoubtedly another vamp, although his ghostly pallor was masked by shining, olive skin. He was drying glasses, and his eyes moved to her with interest, trailing up her bare legs and settling on Emilia's neck for the merest of terrifying moments before he returned to his almost mannequin state. So far, Emilia thought vampires seemed kind of dull as if human actions were only worth the most minute of effort. A few dancers, all scantily clad, were moving around the large club, settling on raised platforms that littered the dance floor, obviously prepping for a night's work. Shining vinyl booths, which matched the rest of the black and red themed interior framed the dance floor, alongside small black tables.

Most curiously there were two stages. One on which Emilia could see her band mates setting up musical gear, the other on which sat two basic chairs, and a throne. Before she could consider why a bar needed a throne, Hayes was calling her over and with dragging feet, Emilia walked to the band stage, attempting to smile at the four men who greeted her. Joey pulled her into a considerate, one-armed hug before lining up his bass pedals, and plugging them into the board that connected them. Emilia busied herself with mic adjustments and amp alterations, barely murmuring in acknowledgement when Tucker, the drummer, or Hayes would throw a setup-related query her way. Fang-bangers, metalheads and general clubgoers alike were starting to trickle into Fangtasia now, and she only allowed herself a breath of relief when Everly and Lisa joined the growing crowd. Everly was as dark as Lisa was fair, but she was equally, unfairly gorgeous, and Emilia noted that they were both receiving appreciative glances from other patrons, a few of which she could only assume were as undead as the woman at the door or the brooding man behind the bar.

Standing next to her two female friends, and gratefully accepting the glass of bourbon and Coke one of them must have gotten from the bar on the way in, Emilia felt as dowdy as ever. Lisa may have outgrown her teenage awkwardness, a stage that Emilia was doubtful the beautiful Everly had ever even had, but Emilia certainly hadn't, and her friend's womanly curves accentuated by almost identical fitted black dresses only emphasised her own skinny, flat-as-a-board body by comparison. Emilia was also laughingly short compared to them both, especially when they have dressed appropriately in heels and her own feet were sweating inside scuffed boots, boots that Lisa groaned at, as Emilia had known she would.

"The dress is perfect, but seriously Ems," she said with a grimace, "thank god you're talented 'cause style just isn't your forte."

"I'm almost hurt," Emilia said in response, swigging the cold drink enthusiastically. Liquid courage.

"You look lovely," Everly said, always the kind, if not completely honest one, and Emilia met her smile in appreciation.

They were due to play at 10 pm, and the club was now filled with the rhythmic, non-music sounds of dark trance, beats that most of the crowd were swaying to. Exactly one drink, and one awkward moment between Laken and Lisa later, who had recently slept together in a drunken moment, Emilia felt an odd pulling sensation at the back of her neck, a burning buzz that yanked her head around as if it had been physically tugged. It took her a few moments to locate the cause of the involuntary reaction, which she'd attributed to the feeling of being watched in that uncomfortable stranger-in-the-dark way, and her searching gaze landed on the previously empty throne.

It was now occupied by a lithe, blonde, and dangerously handsome vampire. The power emanating off him was almost uncomfortable, and while Emilia noted that a few obvious and desperate fang-bangers were eyeing him, no one else in their vicinity seemed to be aware of the chilly vibes rolling off him like waves. Even from her relative distance still near the music stage, she could make out the clean, long lines of his body, the way his navy suit, which looked expensive, hugged every inch of him, and most importantly, and worryingly, the way his intense gaze had yet to leave her face.

"Who's that?" Emilia whispered to Everly, cocking a head in the vamp's direction.

"Oh, that's Eric Northman."

Emilia was startled by the almost reverent way Everly said his name, she was usually pretty immune to the charms of others, you can get away with selectivity when you look like a gorgeous Amazon woman, and she grinned at her friend's obvious lack of understanding.

"Come on Emilia, I know you're practically the Virgin Mary, but anyone with eyes can see he is all kinds of hot."

"Well … sure if you like freaky Viking-esque vampires who do nothing but stare," Emilia said in response. She gaped as the aforementioned vampire's overly broad shoulders shook as if he was suppressing a laugh, and when she met his eyes again the corner of his mouth was twitching.

"I think he just heard that," Everly said, her grin widening.

"Shut up," was Emilia's only, useless response, before she downed the rest of her drink and moved further into the crowd of bodies lingering on the dance floor to escape the vampire, Eric's, eyeline.

For the next hour, Emilia still felt the tugging sensation at the nape of her neck but did her best to ignore it amongst growing nerves and made a note to slow down on the drinking, favouring water instead. Before too long the club music was dying down and people were moving to cluster around the band stage, a brief soundcheck having gone well enough to have piqued the interest of a few club-goers. With a come-here gesture from Hayes, Emilia hugged Everly and Lisa and joined the band on stage, willing herself not to trip over her own feet. She pulled the mic towards her, appreciating the bright stage lights that dulled out the dimmer red glow of the rest of the open space beneath them and inhaled.

"We're The Phantom League and I hope you don't hate us," Emilia said into the mic with a grin, before the beginning chords of our first song rippled around her.

It was easy then, or easier, to lose herself in the music, enjoying the heat of the pressing crowd who were responding to their sound and the reverberation of her voice, which carried throughout the building. It was the one thing Emilia could do, the one thing she loved to do, and she spared a glance to her left to note that Eric, now almost eye level with the band across the club, had sat forward, and was resting his imposing arms on his knees, keeping track of her movements with widened eyes.

Emilia mentally praised herself. Joey had whispered to her just before they'd begun that Eric owned the bar, no surprises there, and he was the one they wanted to impress if they wished to secure more paid gigs at Fangtasia. She hoped attentiveness and wide eyes were the vampire equivalent of human enjoyment and moved her body more fervently to the music they were making.

They played without pause for just shy of an hour, the delight of the crowd and their resounding cheers and applause growing with every tune.

"This is our last song, thank you so much for having us," Emilia said, lowering her voice to a whisper and smiling when the audience responded with resounding cries of "More" and "No! Encore".

"It's called Just Tonight." She paused for a second, realising with growing embarrassment that the finale song was plainly, unabashedly about sex, something that she hadn't considered the implications of before adding to the set list for the night. She had written it at Hayes' behest, the guitarist insisting that the band needed more sex appeal, and Emilia now fought the urge to glare at him as she growled out the first few lyrics. The creepy pulling feeling in her neck grew with every line she sang, and Emilia avoided Eric's eye as they performed, not wanting to see what emotions he may have been exhibiting. The fact that she could even marginally feel them, or feel something, flowing from him and into her tickling subconscious was awkward enough and the last thing Emilia wanted to do was sing a song about sex to him.

The band finished to the sounds of loud applause and Emilia smiled at the crowd that she could barely see under the hot stage lights. She switched off the mic and accepted Joey's clap on the back as Hayes high-fived her. The process of packing up the equipment was punctuated by various people coming up to the side of the stage to greet and compliment them and their sound, and Emilia acknowledged every kind word that was offered her way. It felt good to be so well received, a reaction that was often missing from their previous gigs, which had mostly taken place in under-occupied dive bars.

Their music had been replaced by the steady trance beat again, and the dancers on the podiums, evidently vampires, continued to move tirelessly as they had been doing during the set. As Tucker, the ever-generous, borderline-alcoholic drummer left and returned with a tray of shots for everyone, the tugging in Emilia's neck was becoming impossible to ignore. She looked up at Eric across the dance floor, narrowing her eyes. He was still staring, and in one slow move, his hand flicked in an undeniable come-hither motion, the rest of his body remaining still.

"Oh no, hope you didn't piss off the boss," Joey said with a chuckle, handing her another shot. Emilia hadn't consumed this quantity of alcohol in some time, and her limbs felt languid despite her tense mental state.

"I doubt it," said Lisa, "I think he wants her." She finished her testy statement with a pout, and Emilia turned to scowl at her.

"I doubt it," Emilia said smoothly, "he is probably, I mean, hopefully just wanting to ask about the band …"

"Sure," the tall brunette said, flicking her wrist towards him, "that's why he has been eye-fucking you all night."

"Lisa stop," Everly warned, noting how Emilia froze at the other girl's pronouncement.

"Jealousy is an ugly trait," Hayes joined in, reaching over her shoulder to grab another shot from Tucker. "Our little Ems is pure vampire bait."

"Ick," Emilia muttered, steeling herself as the overwhelming pull towards Eric grew somehow more intense, almost sending her running towards him just as her mind screamed to leave the bar at once.

"I think you're going to have to go, honey," Laken said with a small smile and a gentle push in the lower back. "He's looking pretty annoyed now."

Eric's large frame did appear more tense, the rise of his shoulders and frown marring his otherwise perfect face.

Emilia took one more shot with a shaky hand, and without turning back to look at her friends, dragged herself across the dance floor, smiling at a few patrons who attempted to stop her to offer further praise for the band. After what seemed like an eternity, in which she didn't once glance up at Eric, but chose to focus on every step her scuffed boots took, she reached the edge of his stage, which was cleaved by a series of small steps that led directly to him. At this proximity to the impressive vampire, the air around Emilia felt too hot, almost sparking with an energy she couldn't determine. She'd never experienced anything like it, and in her surprise, glanced up to meet his icy blue eyes, seeing hints of shock mirrored there.

"Come here." His voice was low, almost pained, and without thought Emilia climbed the steps to reach him, noting that even seated he towered above her. His blonde hair was smooth, and long, brushing the collar of his suit. It looked gloriously soft, the only soft thing about him, the rest of his face and body all hard, attractive angles and obvious muscle.

"Sit."

It was almost an order, and Emilia nodded dumbly, taking the seat to his right and perching on the edge of it. Eric rotated towards her, crossing one long leg over the other, and appraised her with heated eyes. Emilia saw that like her own, his hands were curled into fists, and she wondered if he was also experiencing the toxic, unbearable energy that radiated between them. She dismissed the idea offhand. Whatever was going on it was likely due to her tipsy, anxious state and was completely one-sided.

"Look at me." Another order, there was nothing in his even, gravelly voice that offered room for anything but compliance, and Emilia met his gaze with as much bravery as she could muster.

"Silver eyes," he said, a hint of something wistful in his voice that was not evidenced in his hard expression.

There was a weighted, awkward pause, and Emilia's hands trembled as she clenched them harder against the fabric of her dress. She almost protested his observation, her eyes weren't silver, but rather a dirty, dishwater grey. Fidgeting in front of the vampire, she wanted to smooth the skirt down to cover her knees, but something in his unrelenting stare had her pinned, and after several attempts to say something, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, she finally stammered out,

"I'm Emilia, Emilia Claesson."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "I know who you are." Emilia assumed he had asked the female vampire at the door her name, or more likely, had heard it from Joey when he had initially booked the gig. "What I don't know is what you are."

"Sorry?" Emilia mentally admonished herself for being unable to keep her voice steady.

The giant, blonde vampire leaned in closer and grabbed the front legs of the chair Emilia was hovering on, pulling it towards his ridiculous-looking throne with no distinguishable physical effort. She squealed in a very undignified manner, her alarmed noise faltering into silence when she found herself face-to-face with Eric. His nose almost brushed her own, and Emilia watched his nostrils twitch as he inhaled, his blue eyes closing.

"You are so, so afraid," he said in a tone which indicated this was a state he found very agreeable.

As if to prove his point Emilia gulped.

The air around them was almost crackling, the oppressive energy catching in Emilia's throat whenever she tried to breathe like a normal human. She seemed to have forgotten how.

"Yes," she said finally, knowing there was no point in denying what he could sense, or indeed, smell. "I'm afraid."

"That is … unusual."

"Surely not," she said with an awkward giggle, "I mean … vampires." Emilia ended her non-sensical statement, gesturing a hand to indicate the bar filled with people in what she hoped was a motion that illustrated her meaning.

"Look at them," Eric said, and he placed one large, icy-cold hand on her neck to operate her like a puppet. At his touch shivers ran through Emilia's entire body, causing her to jerk as if she'd been electrocuted. Eric noticed her response, and the contact between them, while small, seemed to be having a similar effect on him as he withdrew his hand. She could see the whites of his eyes as they widened again, and they stared at one another for a moment before he shook it off, whatever it was.

"Look at them Emilia," he said again, keeping his hands to himself and choosing not to comment on what had just happened. "They are desperate. They want sex, they want blood, they want comfort. Whatever fear they may have has been completely overridden by those desires."

Emilia spared a glance at the busy club, noting that Eric was right. The people just below them, a sea of black spandex, were almost greedy in their needs. They pressed their bodies together and smiled too wide at one another on the dance floor. The display, from this vantage point, made her feel ill. She didn't consider herself to be a judgmental person, but the lack of fear exhibited by the club patrons in favour of wanton, hungry desire seemed stupid. Especially now that Emilia was sitting with her knee almost touching a creature that could kill any one of them in a blink.

"But not you. You don't seem to want any of those things. And your smell …" he trailed off, moving his face closer to Emilia's hair as he inhaled again. "I smelled you before I even saw you, it was like a trail following you throughout my establishment."

Emilia grimaced, wondering for a second if she'd forgotten to apply deodorant after showering, or if her coconut shampoo was offensive to the presumably ancient being seated next to her.

He laughed a low and biting sound, at the woman's obvious discomfort.

"You misunderstood child. It is delicious." As if to emphasise his point he reached a hand for her again, avoiding her skin to grasp a curl of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

"What is your natural hair colour?" He asked with interest, the normality of the question almost making Emilia laugh. She felt a little hysterical.

"You can tell I dye it?"

He nodded in reply, twisting the strands of black hair between his fingers.

"I'm blonde."

"All the way down?" He grinned, the grin widening when Emilia blushed scarlet at the not-so-subtle meaning of his words. "How sweet, so innocent."

She blanched, wondering if the vampire could somehow smell just how innocent she really was. Was virginity detectable via blood?

"So," he began, dropping the length of hair, "I ask again. What are you?"

"Um, a vocalist? A waitress?"

Eric shook his head, his expression becoming frustrated.

"You feel this?" He reached down and grasped Emilia's compressed hand in his own, a hand which completely encompassed her fist, and the staticky, uncomfortable heat began to grow again despite the inhuman coolness of his touch.

"You feel it too?" Her shocked eyes met his and she pulled her hand away, twisting it in her lap to rid it of the chill that now enflamed her skin.

"Yes." His voice was as tense as Emilia felt, heavy with emotions she couldn't understand.

"I assumed, I mean … I thought it was like that with everyone and vampires." Her excuse sounded weak, and she knew without seeing the shake of his head in response that it was not like this for everyone. Whatever attraction humans may feel for vampires, or vice versa, it wasn't like this. It was horrible, so painful that Emilia couldn't even define it as a pull or longing anymore. Her skin felt like it was peeling off. She could feel the pulsating of the blood in her veins being pulled towards him, like metal in an MRI machine.

"You're not human," Eric said decidedly, and Emilia gasped, huffing out a laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement.

"Of course, I'm human Mr. Northman," she said, ignoring his smile at the use of his name in such an awkward, impersonal manner. "What else would I be?"

"Your singing …"

"Did you enjoy it?" She asked, interrupting him and regretting it when he raised an eyebrow at her, annoyance evident on his handsome face.

"It was impossibly divine for a human."

"Plenty of humans sing well," Emilia said.

"They do," he admitted with a small incline of his head, "but not like you."

She shrugged, unsure what she could say to convince him that she was a normal, if very frightened, human.

"Will you hire us to play again?" She asked, the presence of Hayes and Joey, who had moved up in the crowd so they were closer to the stage, eyeing their friend and the vampire, reminding her of what their main goal for the evening had been.

"Is that what you want?"

"Well … yes. It was pretty exciting for us, to get this gig I mean." Eric's neutral expression emboldened her. "I would like to play here again if you'll have us."

"Oh, I would very much like to have you."

Emilia smiled before the lecherous grin now plastered on his face alerted her to what he meant by having and you.

Emilia's face was flaming.

"I'm sorry Mr. Northman, I don't know what impression I gave you. I don't … um," she waved a hand, searching for an appropriate word, "… date."

Eric threw his head back to laugh in an almost human gesture.

"Who said anything about dating you, my lite kärlek?" He wriggled his fair eyebrows, and despite the butterflies that now fluttered like mad inside Emilia's stomach, she almost grinned. If he wasn't so threatening he would be charming.

"I don't speak Swedish, and I don't do that either, whatever you mean."

"But your name is Swedish," he said.

"I know, it's a pretty poor excuse, but my parents moved here before I was born. They didn't speak it much at home ..."

"Have you been there? Have you seen Sweden?" The raw emotion at the mention of what Emilia assumed must be his homeland pre-vampire life tugged at her heart despite her reservations.

"No. Maybe one day," she said with a little smile. It had been a dream of hers for a long time, an impossible dream given her financial state.

"I would take you ..."

Eric's offer staggered her, and she looked at him incredulously. He appeared serious.

"I would take you, and your little band," Eric waved a hand towards the band stage, "they could play here anytime ..."

"If?"

He smiled. "If you come back here, tomorrow. Come to me."

Emilia bit her lip, an action she regretted when his gaze landed on her mouth and with a click his fangs popped out, shining white and long against his lips.

"Oh my god," she said, staring at the curved fangs. They were intimidating to be sure, but somehow looked natural in his face, like he was supposed to have them rather than the even white teeth he sported.

"Tomorrow night, you'll come."

"No. No, I don't think I will." Emilia stood up, too fast she thought as the alcohol still coursing through her system reached her head. Before she could step away Eric reached out, capturing her wrist. Her skin felt like it sizzled with the contact, and Emilia bit back a yelp.

"Your blood sings to me, I think I could control you by it alone."

"That's … not possible," she said, trying to think about her limited knowledge of vampire powers and not the humming sting of physical contact with Eric.

"I hadn't thought so, and yet you felt me pulling you to me, didn't you?" The grip on Emilia's wrist tightened and she hissed, avoiding his piercing eyes and looking over her shoulder towards where her friends had now all gathered, only feet away. Joey was standing very stiffly as if considering interfering and weighing up the options of such an action.

"Please …" Emilia said in a whisper, "please let me go."

"I'll see you tomorrow, liten sak," Eric said in a promise, releasing her wrist and standing so that he was flush against her. Her head barely skimmed his chest and the sheer size difference between them scared Emilia even more. He moved with all the grace of the predator he was, and without another word, Emilia ran down the stairs into her group of friends.

They started pestering Emilia with questions, moving behind her as she continued across the vampire bar, pushing past dancing, drinking patrons who had somehow remained oblivious to the interaction that had taken place between Emilia and the owner of the establishment. She didn't dare look back to Eric, but the now familiar tugging in her neck was starting again, and Emilia didn't doubt that his eyes hadn't left her retreating form. When she reached the edge of the bar she turned, several sets of worried eyes greeting her as they all waited for her to say something. Emilia didn't miss Lisa's stare that contained unhidden hints of agitation.

"Everly?" Emilia asked, turning towards the woman as she lingered, " Can you drive me home? I think I'm a little too drunk."

To her credit Everly nodded without pausing, looping her arm in her friend's and waving to the group as they exited the bar.

Emilia waited until they were both seated in her car, with her in the unfamiliar passenger seat, before she started shaking.

"What did he do to you?" Her friend asked, reaching over to take Emilia's hand.

"Nothing. He didn't do anything," Emilia said, pressing the back of her free hand to her eyes to stem the flow of tears that were threatening to fall.

"Can we get out of here, please? I'll tell you everything he said when I get home. I just want to be home ..."

"' Course," Everly said, inserting the key into the ignition and starting the car.

"Do you mind staying the night?"

Everly cocked an eyebrow. In all their years of friendship, Emilia had never once asked Everly to spend the night at her tiny apartment.

"He really freaked you out, didn't he?"

Emilia nodded in response.

"Of course I can Ems! I'll stay as long as you need." Everly pulled the car out of the parking space and drove away from Fangtasia as Emilia cried in the passenger seat.


An hour, and several cups of tea to calm her nerves later, Everly and Emilia were sitting cross-legged on the worn blue couch reviewing the events of the night.

"It may not be as sinister as you think?" Her friend offered, tucking her long legs under Emilia's shaggy blanket.

"You mean, insinuating that I'm not human, that he can control my blood and wants to eat me isn't sinister?" Emilia took a sip of tea.

"Okay, okay," Everly smiled wryly, "I take your point."

"You may be right though. I mean chances are he'll find some willing fang-banger and forget about me by tomorrow."

Emilia didn't believe it herself, but Everly's smile and gentle presence was as always calming, and they fell asleep on the couch at around 3 am, watching reruns of Friends.

#

Emilia woke up a few hours past dawn, her muscles cramped from sharing the small couch with her much larger friend and headed straight for the bathroom. Her phone, which she'd thought to put on charge next to her bed, was blinking, indicating unread text messages.

There were two from Lisa, the first apologising for her behaviour the previous night, and the second inviting Emilia to lunch that day so she could apologise in person. Laken and Joey had both texted her as well, asking for clarification regarding the night's events and being overall pretty kind and understanding about the sudden exit from the club. The final text, which had come in at around 5 am, was from a number Emilia didn't recognise. She froze, small tremors radiating through her as she read, and then reread the brief message;

Tonight, min älskling Emilia. Eric x

P.S I still have your delicious scent on my skin