Bound by Blood

by JayEmEl

Vampires have struck in Vale. Yang and Pyrrha are sent to investigate these human disappearances and murders. But when they discover that an ancient vampire has been at the heart of Vale, S.U.N orders its execution. Yang finds herself torn between the sacrifices she made to keep humanity safe, and her growing affection for the very creature she's been directed to destroy.

10. Haunted

Okay, so, I decided to shorten the chapter by removing a whole scene at the end. Instead of 20K words, it's like 14.5K. There's honestly a part of me that's kind of wondering if this chapter should exist at all, but here we are.

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter holds slightly graphic descriptions and elements of self-harm and abuse, conversations about death/wanting to die, and generally not being super happy.

Also, to avoid some initial confusion, we're rewinding a bit.

---

In the pitch black of the bedroom, inky wisps of even greater darkness rose and reached out from the floor, forming the shape of a woman pulling herself out from the void and collapsing on her hands and knees. Blake gasped, choked, and struck her hand out behind her in a quivering command.

With the reluctance of leaving a lover's embrace, the ghostly black claws retreated from her body, fading into the room around her.

She stayed there for a moment, trying to gather her strength. Liquid light pushed itself through her veins, incandescent, slow to progress, agonizing. It oozed from her chest and splattered on the cream rug beneath her, a mix of clear glowing purple and the thick stygian of Blake's own blood. The pain was radiating through her entire torso and even up her throat, and she coughed up more of both. As if that weren't enough, the other hole in her shoulder made her arm feel like it was being repeatedly stabbed by hundreds of large needles.

She'd have to acquire another rug.

Stars, curse Aurora. Blake couldn't even drag herself onto her bed. Instead, she rolled over onto her back there on the same rug her bed was on, palms facing upwards, and closed her eyes. She was motionless as stone as she focused the energy in her body, redirecting the flow of power in her veins towards the angry, gaping, still-glowing hole in her chest. The bullet had missed her heart. It wouldn't have killed her, either, but she would have spent days out of commission trying to heal that – and being absolutely miserable in the process because of not just being dead. As it was, these two wounds would take the rest of the night and most of the morning to heal, and Blake couldn't do anything else except lay there and focus on them.

It was her second taste of Aurora's new technology. The first time, it was Yang who had shot her in the calf with it – but the bullet had been smaller, the dosage less significant.

It had still been the worst pain Blake had experienced in a very long time.

She didn't know how new, exactly, the UV-C bullets were, but she hadn't yet heard of them before locking herself away from the world. Her best guess was that Aurora had finished developing and rolling out the technology during her absence.

Because of course they had.

She had been able to heal a lot quicker from the hole in her leg by drinking Yang's blood, though. That hadn't changed.

And you practically killed her then, too.

Blake wasn't upset with Operative Akouo for this. The enforcer was just doing her job, after all. If anything, Blake was grateful. The shots had knocked her out of her frenzy, saving Yang's life. That was the most important part, the one Blake chose to keep in mind while she suffered and fought against the liquid light still infecting her wounds, stitching herself back together from the inside out. Yang was safe.

For now.

For now.

But as Blake laid there in the heavy silence, focusing and fretting and hurting, a ringing slowly started in her ears, and there was pressure forming against her mind. Her muscles tensed and she clenched her teeth – bits and pieces of memories flashed behind her eyelids, moments of violence and gory cravings. Fangs sinking into a still warm heart. Blood spraying into her mouth, splattering on the wall. Bones shattering in her grip. Piles of mutilated flesh and corpses left exsanguinated in her wake. More blood. Blood, blood, blood, nothing and everything but blood. Suddenly, she felt him as if he were lying right there with her, arms wrapped around her body, chest against her back, fingers digging into her skin and lips pressed to her ear so hard she felt his teeth. A shudder rippled down her spine.

"Command her. She is nothing."

It was a deep and calm, sinister voice – caressing, almost, like sordid reassurances dripping from a torturer's mouth.

"No…" Blake's subconscious refused to let her forget it. She had obeyed it for centuries, obeyed him for centuries. His influence reached across the expanse of time and still tempted the killer in her, whispering how perfect in her ravaging she was and urging her to take, and take, and take…

She choked on a sob, raising her hand to her wounded shoulder, and, in her desperation to shut him out, Blake plunged her index and thumb into the bullet hole. The pain shot up to her temple, sharp and hot, and she cried out, but she didn't stop pushing into her flesh until she found the round lodged in her humerus. Her whole body trembled, and the silver stung her fingertips, but at least she couldn't feel him anymore, couldn't hear him anymore.

Blake pried the bullet out of her arm and let it drop on the carpet beside her with a low, muted thud. She lowered her shaking hand.

Slowly, like the tide retreating to the ocean, the ringing and pressure abated in gentle waves, and despite the torment she was in, she was able to relax her muscles. She closed her eyes and exhaled a sigh, relieved to only be dealing with the physical agony. It was almost comforting. Her mind and her body were her own like this, quiet, alone.

I will not command Yang.

She repeated it to herself in a whispered breath. Over and over again until the panic subsided completely…mostly. To remind herself of who she was. To hang on to reality so she wouldn't slip between her own fingers.

It was always there. That gaping, screeching void of a maw, ready to swallow her whole. It was always there.

It was always there.

---

It was nearing noon when Blake finally finished healing. The process was the closest to sleep she had ever gotten, this focused trance, except it wasn't relaxing or pleasant – but that was nothing new. She opened her eyes. It was still very dark in the room thanks to the blackout curtains, but Blake could see fine. She slowly sat up, passing her hand through her hair. Almost immediately, she felt a familiar ache in her stomach as well as the dryness of her throat.

She was thirsty. Of course she was. Using that much energy to heal without drinking at the same time to expedite the progress was bound to have that effect.

Except Yang wouldn't be expecting her to need to feed so soon. It hadn't even been a week yet.

Blake's fingers dug into her skull, pushing down her felid ears. She had no right to ask Yang for a drink earlier than normal, let alone at all, especially not after attacking her. It would be presumptuous to assume their arrangement wasn't null after that.

What do I do now?

Feeding from regular mortals wouldn't quench her thirst anymore. She supposed she could try, but she would have to go out and find a willing victim. Her previous ones were either dead or too old now to withstand the blood loss. And if it doesn't help your thirst anyway? Then what?

There was a kind of wicked irony in being so powerful yet also completely at the mercy of her own basic need. She was terrified of it. She hated it so much – she always had. Losing control and endangering people, killing people –

Stop thinking about it. You'll make it worse.

To help redirect her mind before she panicked – or, worse, before she triggered her own frenzy – Blake decided she needed a bath and a change of clothes. She was about to stand up, but then she saw the bullet she had removed from her arm and discarded on the rug next to her. She picked it up, ignoring the sting, and examined it more closely.

The encasing was silver, but she could see where the tip had exploded to release the liquid light. The bullet still glowed purple slightly where traces of the UV-C remained. Blake arched her eyebrows. She knew who would be interested in learning more about this technology, if he wasn't already aware of it. His boss, too. Blake would have to bring this to Cryolife first, though.

She finally stood up from the floor, keeping the bullet in her hand, and turned the corner out of her bedroom, heading for the bathroom, where she slid two fingers upwards just a bit on the switch to finally turn on a light, however dimly.

Blake caught her reflection in the mirror and stopped. She put the bullet on the counter and rested her hands on the surface for a moment, glaring at herself. The left side of her face had a smattering of dark, dried blood, and the sleeve and collar of her white bomber were ruined. More dried blood all over her chest, but the wound was gone. Her irises were already halfway consumed by crimson, an irritating reminder that she was thirsty. She looked like a homicidal madwoman who had just returned from committing murder. Except it usually wasn't her own blood that she was covered in, so this was a twisted welcome of something different for a change.

She washed off the stains at the sink, watching the unclean water disappear down the drain. Hollow. Tired. Her distorted reflection on the lake. Hands plunging in and tainting the water red. Splashing it on her face, blood dribbling back in. Gouging deep marks down her cheeks and jaw with her nails, immediately healed.

Try as she might, she could never fully wash away the scarlet horror of her sins.

After she scrubbed off what she could without succumbing to the urge to tear out chunks of her own skin, Blake drew her bath, forcing the memory away. Now wasn't the time to spiral.

She had a shower, too, but she hadn't used this one yet. It was possible she never would. Blake had tried this invention by humans a few times in the past, but she didn't like how easily the water got in her felid ears. Humans hadn't thought of faunus with the initial designs.

They hadn't thought of faunus for a lot things.

But the world was a little different now.

Blake was, too.

And it only took three-thousand years…

She bathed in scorching hot water until it started turning cool, and then got out, letting the water drain. As she was drying herself off with her towel, she heard her scroll vibrate from where she had left it in her pants' back pocket on the floor. Here we go, then. Blake grabbed it, noticing that she had three other messages from different people. She only checked the most recent sender.

It was Coco.

Coco: I don't know if you knew this but your enforcer friends just got approved for their own little

base of operations in Vale. Renovations are going to start literally at the end of the week.

Coco: Wanna know how I know? BECAUSE IT'S IN FRONT OF MY OFFICE.

Coco: Get Aurora OUT of here.

Blake rested her scroll on the counter and raked her nails through her damp hair with her other hand. It was all she could do not to cry.

There was so much to do, so much to keep track of, now that she was back.

She couldn't even bring herself to answer or look at her other messages.

There was something else she had to take care of today, too, regardless, two different people she needed to visit. She finished drying herself and then applied cream to her body – it was in the small things that she could hang on to slivers of who she used to be. Once done, Blake picked up her dirty clothes, putting the ruined bomber and tank top in the garbage and the jeans straight into the washing machine, and then made her way back to her bedroom to pick out a new set of clothes. She slipped into a tight black dress that hugged her neck and cut off at the middle of her thighs, and slid a loose, long and buttonless white blazer overtop. She brushed her hair and passed her hand through it a few times with styling product, but didn't dry it, finalizing her outfit with smokey eye makeup and high heels.

The people she was visiting were business-oriented, and the role she played in their life demanded that she present herself a certain way. If there was anything she had learned in the past millennium or so, it was that, often, unwaveringly, without having to hurt anyone, just the idea of power could move mountains. So, satisfied with her appearance, she shut the lights off and drew the darkness into her arms until it engulfed her completely – and vanished.

The shadows of Vale guided her, a specter passing through the city undetected, swift and pulling the breath out of passersby like a sudden change in wind pressure. She located her target quickly, finding him in his office on the second floor of the mansion he lived in. Blake's presence began manifesting in a corner of the room facing the door, the shadows darkening, and she opened her eyes, staring at him from there. He was filing through some documents at his desk, unaware of her arrival.

These fifty years could have been kinder to him. A man in his late seventies now, his movements were slower, his frame frailer and beginning to hunch. He still dressed sharply and took care of his appearance well, but the wrinkles and darker spots on his skin couldn't lie. Blake almost pitied him – and, by accident, she forgot to stop breathing.

The smell of his blood was weaker, less filled with vitality, but the scent still made a pang of thirst wrack her stomach and throat, and she clenched her teeth. She was fine. It wasn't anything she hadn't dealt with before, as much as she tried not to get to that point.

It still soured her mood.

Blake reached for the shadows at the bottom of the window behind the man and pulled them upwards so that they slowly created a curtain of darkness, blocking out the rainy day and any kind of view into the office.

Noticing the unnaturally dimming light, the man turned, saw what was happening behind him, and froze. Blake heard his heartbeat accelerate, and her body tensed with an undercurrent of anticipation. She could choose not to breathe to avoid tempting smells, but nothing could be done about her hearing – and hearing a frantic heart excited her predatory instincts. Being thirsty amplified the feeling, sharpening her vision until every edge was a blade, every speck of dust outlining itself so clearly she could count them, and making everything in her surroundings appear to slow down by a fraction when her internal clock sped up.

The man swallowed with difficulty, and Blake locked onto his throat bobbing. No. She snapped her attention back to his face, the shape of her solidifying with her hardening grasp over her impulses to attack. He put his hands on his desk to steady himself. "Nightshade…" he whispered, almost in a rasp.

Blake moved into the office space, a cloud of black with red and gold eyes, and then let the shadows fall away from her just as she put her hand on the door and gently pushed it shut. And locked it. She set her gaze on her host and offered him a tight smile. "Hello, Edrick. I hope this isn't an inconvenient time for you."

Edrick Beryl was trembling. Blake registered his fear, but she suspected he was also shocked. He lowered himself down onto his chair slowly, eyes wide. "Nightshade…you're… You're alive."

She acquiesced with a tilt of her head. "Yes. I am."

"But…" Edrick raised his hands helplessly for a moment, looking a mix between distressed and thoroughly confused. "They said you…they said they'd…"

Blake arched her eyebrows. "'They'?"

"I don't know who they really were," he muttered, shaking his head. "They, uhm –" he interrupted himself, passed his hands over his face and bald cranium like he wasn't sure if he should admit what he knew. But scrutinized under Blake's narrowed gaze, he caved with a sigh and said, "They called themselves Detectives Ember and…Akouo, I believe it was. They were here just about two hours ago."

Oh, Yang… What have you done?

She couldn't be angry. Not at Yang or Akouo, anyway, not fully. But she was angry – angry at the situation, angry at Aurora, angry at herself. Blake had thought the world would be a safer place if she locked herself away. And, for all intents and purposes, it had been true. But her absence had left a power vacuum, and someone had moved in, someone who appeared to have some kind of chaos on their mind, and Aurora had naturally intervened.

It wasn't like Blake hadn't considered the possibility, but she'd been so focused on just…trying to make it all end that, at the time, she couldn't bring herself to care enough.

And that was her fault. Her mistake. Her selfishness. Nothing she ever did seemed to be quite right.

"What did they want?" she finally asked, more tired than she'd intended.

"They asked about you. About others like you. And…they're wanting transaction records, a list of names of the people who have picked up blood from Cryolife's warehouse. They're taking me tomorrow."

Blake didn't reply. But she felt the hot iron of guilt seer into her back, felt the prickle and itch of long-healed phantom burns. She'd failed the mortals by disappearing as she had, and, in so doing, had failed the other vampires in Vale, too. It was only by being present and guiding things with her own hand that things seemed to be…at least peaceful. Not perfect by any means, and Blake hated that she had to continuously lean into intimidation tactics to ensure that certain individuals didn't decide to twist a knife in her ribs, but she supposed this was part of her burden to bare – part of the burden she had no right to complain about, to run away from, especially when she'd been the one to build this all from the ground up in the first place.

What would my father say?

…My mother?

But something violent gripped her by the spine from the inside and pulled, and Blake almost physically doubled over.

She couldn't think about that.

"Not that you owe anyone any explanations or visits..." Edrick started cautiously once he realized Blake wasn't going to say anything, still checking her for any signs of upset and pulling her out of her own head, "but it has been over fifty years. Why are you suddenly…back?"

"Unforeseen circumstances. Tell me what happened, please."

His shoulders tensed. "After two years, your, ah…attorney contacted me, saying your assets were frozen due to a lack of activity…" He hesitated, and Blake nodded for him to continue. He hurried on. "I delayed for as long as I could, but the transfer had to be settled. And then the years kept coming with still no signs of life from you, despite several efforts made to find you, so I assumed…"

Blake took a few careful steps forward, which silenced him immediately. His summary of the events made sense – Blake had indeed put a clause in the handling of her affairs that if nothing changed after two years, then Edrick would be put in charge of them. It seemed things had so far panned out the way she had prepared them to in the eventuality of her disappearance, in whatever form that took. "I understand," she said, placating, because there was no reason for him to be so anxious. She hadn't killed any mortals in over a millennium. Although…she supposed he didn't know that. She crossed her arms. "But I'm here now. You must know what I want."

Edrick nodded and stood up rather suddenly, fumbling for something in his breast pocket while he began rambling on. "I still keep this key on me at all times, you know, just in case. I guess a small part of me always believed you would return. You're Nightshade, after all. Nothing could keep you down." There was a small stack of shelves on the wall with books on them, and Edrick felt under the lowest one with his fingers until he seemed to find the latch he was looking for. He then pulled the shelves forward, revealing a secret safe, which he unlocked with his key. From within the safe, he fetched a pile of bound folders and letters. He set them on his desk and motioned at them slightly. "Here they are."

Blake arched her eyebrows, making no move to approach the documents. "And the rest?"

Edrick cleared his throat. "My, ah, son has the rest."

They considered one another in silence for a moment, until Blake tried to discreetly swipe her tongue over her lips in an attempt to relieve the dryness she felt. It didn't work. It did make Edrick look even more uncomfortable, though. She was fast to get his mind thinking of something else. "So, you have a son. Why is your son running my affairs?"

"I'm getting too old to handle everything…Nightshade…madam. Oliver is more capable."

"I see."

Too old.

Words could not describe the sheer size of this irony. What was she even doing here anymore?

What I wouldn't give to be in his place.

When she felt a little less inclined to attack, Blake finally came to stand directly in front of Edrick's desk, merely three feet away from each other. She was careful not to breathe. But she did lean forward slightly, meeting his eyes, and allowed her passive aura to wash through him when she spoke next. "Well, let's not worry too much, then. How has…Oliver been handling the things you couldn't?"

Edrick's heart rate slowed. His stance relaxed. The look in his eyes became less alert. It helped Blake keep her mind off her thirst, her heightened senses returning to normal now that her interlocutor wasn't exhibiting so much fear. And it would reduce the harm to Edrick's health, too, being less anxious like this now.

He sighed and motioned absentmindedly with his hand, his cadence of speech becoming almost sluggish. "As far as I know, good. I was very clear with him about what the expectations were, and I still meet with him regularly to discuss progress. He wouldn't misuse the responsibility, I swear it."

Blake would be the judge of that when she met with Oliver in person. For now, she just nodded and gave Edrick another hard smile. "Have you told Oliver about his benefactor?"

Edrick looked over his shoulder at the black mist covering the window, like some part of him was still trying to be alarmed, but his expression was unconcerned. "I did. He's well aware. But…he doesn't believe me."

"No, I suppose he wouldn't if he has never seen me before."

Edrick creased his eyebrows, looking down at the folders and papers on his desk like he wasn't sure why they were still there. He sat back down on his chair. "As per your directives, Oliver has continued steering the majority of profits from Cryolife's Vale branch and the library towards hosting charities for the homeless and raising funds for the orphanages in the city. He's a good man." Edrick's eyes lit up momentarily as he thought of something else. "In fact, he's hosting a fundraiser in three days."

"Time and place, please."

"Right. Jasper Lounge, starting at seven in the evening. It is in collaboration with Adel, I believe, so they will be auctioning designer clothing."

Oh, Coco… It seems we'll meet anyway. Two birds, one stone, as mortals said. But, really, Blake would go see her before then. "Thank you." Blake finally picked up the bound files and letters. "I expect you to initiate the transfer process with your attorney so that we may settle the matter soon."

"Of course, Nightshade."

"Good." Blake turned, and she was about to leave, but then said over her shoulder, "Do tell Oliver I'm looking forward to meeting him." And then all the shadows in the room converged towards her, enveloping her in their embrace, before warping back to where they were, and Blake and the manifestations of her power were gone.

---

She dropped off the documents at her home, in her own office, ready to be looked over later, and after grabbing the UV-C bullet from her bathroom counter, traveled towards Cryolife's Vale facilities.

Despite so many mortals working here, it was one of the rare places where it wasn't immediately tempting to drink from anyone. Everything smelled too strongly of antiseptic, and the various rooms were well insulated because of the frequent manipulation of biohazardous materials. The scientists on site also dressed for safety, and that contributed to reducing the strength of any enticing scents.

There were fewer shadows in the establishment, bright lights turned on almost everywhere. Blake couldn't exactly shadow travel here, but she could still travel as a shadow. She was a dark, ominous shape that crawled along the ceilings, sometimes lounging the walls, passing through security checkpoints and locked doors like they were nothing – she did her best to avoid being seen and mostly succeeded.

The black tendrils and mist that were Blake solidified into her shape on a chair in the main office space. It was currently empty, but there was one person in particular whom Blake had ensured to be seen by, and she was expecting him to show up shortly now that he knew Blake was here.

She was right. It only took about two minutes before the door opened, closed, was locked, and then a man swiftly came to sit at the desk in front of Blake. He was wearing a mask and opaque safety glasses, but he only removed the mask, and Blake still had no idea how he could see through the glasses. The tag on his vaguely askew white garbs read Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck. He linked his fingers together on the desk and leaned forward a bit. "A good late afternoon to you, Nightshade. It's been quite a moment. Welcome back. What can I do for you?"

Blake's lips twitched. Quite a moment, indeed. She appreciated him not making a bigger deal out of it than that. "Two things. First of all, were you aware of Aurora's new UV-C bullets?"

"I don't believe so. Interesting. Do you have a sample?"

The bullet was in her hand already. She placed it on the desk in front of the doctor. "This one is used. I may be able to retrieve a full, unused clip later. But I thought you might be interested in analyzing the liquid light."

Dr. Oobleck's eyebrows rose so that they were visible above his glasses. He grabbed the bullet, but then dropped it suddenly when he realized it was silver. "Mm-hmm, yes, okay." He put on a new pair of latex gloves and picked it up again, and brought it closer to his face to look it over. Then he produced a loop out of one of the drawers in his desk and studied it even more intently, occasionally humming and muttering to himself.

Meanwhile, Blake's gaze narrowed more and more until she was outright squinting at him. "Doctor?"

He immediately put the loop back into his desk and instead put the bullet into a sample container before shoving it in his lab coat pocket. "Anyway, yes, very fascinating. Thank you for bringing that to me, I'll be sure to run some tests and see if I can uncover its secrets. As soon as I learn anything, I'll let you know."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it."

"You're very welcome. And your second inquiry, Nightshade?"

Any amusement Blake had begun feeling vanished. She leaned forward a bit. "I'd like an update on your main operation. Any progress?"

Oobleck's face was impassive. Without being able to see his eyes, it was always a little disconcerting. Blake wasn't intimidated by him at all, but for some reason, he had never been intimidated by her despite only being a hair past two hundred. He drummed his fingers on the desk before suddenly crossing his arms. "Yes. We've been able to turn the mice. And other specimens, too."

Blake's eyes widened. They had been trying to achieve this for…well, a long time. Longer than fifty years. It was an important breakthrough. "How long ago? Can you show me?"

Oobleck nodded. "Yes." He jumped out of his seat, put his mask back on, and motioned at Blake. "It's fairly recent. Two years now. You'll have to put on a coat and keep your hands to yourself." Which Blake already knew, but he hurried over to one of the cabinets he had in the corner and fetched a lab coat for her anyway before she could properly react. "Here." Blake shrugged out of her blazer and draped it over the chair she'd been sitting on. Meanwhile, Oobleck continued, "Also, now that you're back, I thought you should know there are health and safety evaluators visiting tomorrow."

She almost let that comment slide while she put on the lab coat. But then she realized the doctor wouldn't mention something like that out of the blue if it wasn't important, so she asked the one question that seemed mildly pertinent based on the one detail he had gone out of his way to provide… "Are they on schedule?"

…And got the answer she needed. "No. Our last evaluation was only a month ago and they never give us such short notice. That's why I thought you should know."

"I see." There was only one possibility about what this was, then. Coordinated effort. Stars above, I wish they'd leave. I'll handle the warehouse. "In that case…" Blake turned to face Oobleck fully again once she smoothed over the coat and pulled her hair out of the collar. "Make sure Aurora finds out nothing. Hide any suspicious materials in advance, focus on your more benign operations during their visit. They cannot get the slightest hint of what you're working on. Let them evaluate, answer their questions, and make them believe they've thoroughly wasted their time."

Oobleck was listing off her directives on his fingers. Then he stood straighter at attention. "As you wish, Nightshade. Aurora will find nothing out of the ordinary here."

She acquiesced, and then they both just stood there.

He stared at her. Waiting.

She sighed and put her hands in the big coat pockets.

Seemingly satisfied now, Oobleck guided Blake out of the office at a quick pace, and she practically had to jog to keep up with him. He weaved through his colleagues working in the open laboratory space, and Blake followed him through a few locked doors until they reached a very brightly lit hallway with cages lining the walls.

But these were not regular cages. And they were not regular lights, either. Blake immediately felt the discomfort on her skin, the itch that hinted at a lot of silver nearby, and her muscles weakening from the sun lamps – not debilitating like Aurora's new UV-C tech, but mimicking what it was like for vampires to walk out in the daytime. The cages weren't simply made of small bars where it was easy to see inside, either. These were reinforced, the bars thick and only around the tops.

The sounds coming out of them were not anything like rodent squeaks. It was more like a lot of unnatural hissing and yipping.

Oobleck shut the door behind them, and Blake stood still because suddenly she wasn't sure any of this had been a good idea. Except it was far too late to backtrack. Two years too late. Maybe even a century. "Doctor, what…have they turned into?" She didn't know if she should even dare look inside the cells. She hadn't considered this outcome.

But she should have.

"Monsters. Animals with a soul no more." He sounded grave, and started advancing down the hallway much more slowly than his earlier pace. He gestured at the cages he passed one by one, and Blake's eyes never left him. "Without advanced intelligence or morality to guide them like we do, all they know is their baser instinct – hunger. Except now they know no fear, and they seem to have no concept of –"

"Being sated," Blake finished in a whisper, "reduced to a never-ending state of frenzy." Oobleck didn't try to correct her. For the first time in a very, very long time, she felt sick to her stomach. There were hands reaching around her neck, digging into her jugular and into the base of her skull. Someone's voice was rasping in her ear, tearing into her mind. "You never have to be hungry again, my love. Show them who holds the power now." "Have any escaped?" she demanded, and her voice was hoarse and loud because she was trying so hard to hear herself over the sound of screaming in her head and ringing in her ears.

Dr. Oobleck came back over to her, but with the glasses and mask it was impossible to tell his expression. "No. All specimens are accounted for so far. We don't dare try to turn bigger animals at the moment…but we're reaching a point where it might be necessary to further our research. Primates, for example." He tilted his head, leaning forward a bit. "Nightshade, you don't seem well."

"I'm…fine!" Blake clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stop breathing again because she was panting, the ache in her stomach and dryness of her throat coming to the forefront of her mind with vicious intensity even though she wasn't nearly thirsty enough to be having this kind of reaction. You can't go into a frenzy, you can't go into a frenzy –

There was only one thing she could do to stop herself from losing control, and she had to do it now. She turned away from Dr. Oobleck, pulled up her sleeve, and brutally sunk her teeth into her own arm.

Sharp pain assaulted her nervous system, distracting her mind, and then she had an initial taste of bitter copper which turned into an overpowering saltiness, and that made her gag. She choked, eyes watering, but pressed down harder into her flesh until the pain was firing off through her entire torso, until she had sliced through muscle and veins alike. Only then did she release her arm. Within seconds, the deep gouge marks of her teeth in her skin began to heal, leaving only the stygian traces and smears of her blood as proof that there had been a wound there at all. But the purpose had been achieved – Blake was sufficiently thrown off that the risk of succumbing to her frenzy disappeared.

She allowed herself to breathe again, deeply and measured, and closed her eyes for a moment after blinking a few times to clear the wetness. "…You wouldn't happen to have some tissues nearby, would you?" she asked, swallowing thickly, calming down now that her mind wasn't filled with the cries of her victims or the sweetest, tormenting urgings of her once-mentor. Her mouth and back of her throat still burned from the taste of acrid salt, but that would fade eventually.

She missed Yang. And Yang's blood. They both had such a soothing effect on her, a warmth like nothing Blake had ever experienced before, being comforted and energized and satisfied all at once, like being alive was just maybe something worthwhile, after all, and suddenly she wished more than anything that it wouldn't be unacceptable to meet with Yang again.

…What?

Blake didn't make it a habit to be roaming around this thirsty – and she was very much being reminded of the reason why.

Dr. Oobleck presented Blake with a few cotton pads, which she took to wipe off any remaining blood from her arm and mouth. He pulled the waste disposal shoot open from the wall so she could get rid of the pads afterwards, saying, "Very interesting. Would you recommend – "

"We're not talking about it."

"Purely for scientific dis – "

"Doctor, the remains of your corpse will be a scientific discovery by the time I'm done with you. Show me the creatures."

Oobleck shook his head and motioned Blake forward. "No appreciation for the work I do here."

Blake ignored that.

Secretly, though, she was glad the only thing he cared about were the analytics of her frenzy attack, and not the trauma, itself. There were many worse demons than excessive curiosity, after all – like the ones Blake was hearing now. She followed Dr. Oobleck closer towards the first few cages, and he reached towards one of them that was at eye-level. He slid open the peak-hole and moved to give Blake the space to see.

Her eyes widened when she saw them.

They weren't harmless mice anymore. They were bigger, blacker, with plates of bone armor growing out of them to cover their heads and protect their torso. Spikes grew out of their tails, and their claws were much longer, more menacing. Their eyes were a glowing, burning red.

And when they saw something staring at them, they immediately snapped and raced towards Blake.

She instinctively backed up, and they both crashed into the metal of the cage, screeching and squealing in terrible anger. They started clawing at the sides of the cell, and recoiled when the silver stung them.

Dr. Oobleck shut the peak-hole. He cleared his throat, but Blake couldn't quite relax her stance right away. "As you can see, it may not be safe to attempt to turn larger animals. At least, not until we are better equipped to contain them."

Blake's eyes stayed focused on the cages, thoughts firing off in different directions. There weren't very many things that still made her afraid in the world…but this? The possibilities of harm were far too numerous. Finally, she asked, "You've been able to consistently turn the animals that you do have?"

"Yes. We've altered the venom with great precision and results have been conclusive."

Blake wanted to rub her face and lean her forehead against a wall somewhere, but she stayed put, hands in her coat's pockets, and firmed her expression into something more professionally neutral. "What tests have you done on them?"

"As you must have seen, they are weak against silver and sunlight, as we are. It is still uncertain if they can turn other animals. At the moment the answer is no, but a fledgling vampire can turn mortals after they've matured for a century…and so it is possible that once they reach a certain age, too, these grimm may be able to turn other animals in a similar way."

"That's what you're calling them? Grimm?" Blake arched her eyebrows, and when Dr. Oobleck confirmed, she sighed. Can't get much more appropriate than that, I suppose. Sometimes grim problems required grim solutions, after all. "Anything else?"

"We've begun phase two, as per our plan. Tests have so far been failures, though. We're working on it."

It was a good thing time was all Blake ever had, and that reading and learning new things were two of her favorite hobbies. Science had evolved by leaps and bounds, especially within the past few centuries, and had she not dedicated so much time into staying updated and knowledgeable, she would not have been qualified to supervise Cryolife's Vale branch. The things they were discovering, the kinds of experiments and accomplishments they could do now…they almost seemed indistinguishable from magic, and Blake was sometimes still tempted to call it that even if she knew the real processes behind it all. Sometimes even now, she felt out of her depth – and not having foreseen what might get created, exactly, by trying to turn animals into vampires made her uncomfortable.

She didn't let her hesitations show, though. It would have been pointless anyway. "Good. Keep trying. And don't bring in bigger animals yet. The size of the creature isn't going to matter here, and there's no use in taking extra risks with this. And stop creating more of these grimm unless you absolutely need to for the purpose of advancing the research. This is dangerous."

"Yes, Nightshade. We are taking as many precautions as necessary, have no fear."

Blake almost scoffed. Instead, she frowned. "Wonderful. And now I'm getting out of this gods' forsaken hallway." She promptly turned around and walked towards the exit out, anxious to finally get away from the monsters they themselves had made. She knew it was necessary, that they had tried every other humane alternative with no results, but it didn't mean she had to like it or even think what they were doing was right. It wasn't right.

But after all the wrong she had wrought, what was one more in the name of finally bringing some good?

---

The shadows fell away from Blake as she sat back on the plush half-circle couch, but she didn't let herself relax just yet. She observed her surroundings for a moment. There were a little less than two dozen mortals sitting at various tables, a few of them playing pool in the corner. Twice the attendance from five decades ago. The booming music from downstairs was quieter here, much to Blake's relief for her sensitive felid ears. She didn't really want to be here tonight. But she'd made a promise to a friend.

A friend who hadn't seen her in over fifty years. A friend who Blake had said nothing to about her disappearance from the world. A friend who, for all intents and purposes, might be an old woman now.

A friend who had every reason to be angry with her.

Blake wasn't afraid of seeing the effects time had on mortals. What she was distressed about was acknowledging the passage of it, passage of time that Blake had hid away from to weaken herself, to somehow put a stop to the nightmares that haunted her even if she didn't sleep. And yet she continued to be so, so, unbelievably tired, and her efforts had amounted to being a waste.

It seemed her arrival hadn't gone completely unnoticed, not as Blake had initially thought. At the other end of the more intimate space, leaning on the bar counter, the waitress was staring at her, wide-eyed. She must have been having a conversation with the only other vampire present, Henry, and the bartender, because when her obvious inattention was noted, Henry turned in his seat to see what had her so intrigued. His eyes widened momentarily, too. He said something to her, which had her tearing her gaze away to animatedly ask him what appeared to be several questions all at once.

Blake lost interest and took out her scroll. Began to relax. She was far away enough from the mortals in the room that breathing wasn't too much of an issue. Still, this wasn't her typical scene. She supposed she could try enjoying it while she was here, though. She'd somewhat enjoyed it before, after all, when she wasn't alone.

Blake opened Mimic's messages and sent:

Blake: I'm here now. Upstairs.

She was about to return her scroll to her blazer's pocket, but then remembered that she had two other messages from different people she hadn't checked. Blake looked at the first.

It was from Yang.

Yang: Hey u alive out there? If u r, wtf happened on the roof?

Yang: Hello?

Blake closed her eyes for a moment. Guilt and regret crashed into her. Yang deserved an explanation. And Blake wanted to give her one. But she had no idea where to start. The answer wasn't anything easy, certainly not something to discuss through text. It was already such a surprise that Yang was giving Blake the chance to justify herself at all – there was no way Yang would agree to meet again.

And it wasn't like tomorrow's encounter was going to be anything pleasant, either.

"Um, hi! Welcome to Wicked Thirst Parlor. I'm the VIP waitress tonight, my name is Melanie."

Blake opened her eyes, set them on the waitress, who was smiling and looking at her with too much interest. She held her breath when Melanie's scent wafted over. She did smell very sweet, like...dessert. Maybe strawberry. Blake clenched her jaw.

"If you don't mind, I saw you appear out of nowhere! I didn't know vampires could do things like that." Melanie was far too excited about this discovery. She was practically thrumming with energy. "Henry said it's because you're ancient, older and more powerful than any of the vampires in Vale!" She paused to gather her breath, and then she asked, leaning a bit closer, "Are you…are you the one they call Nightshade?"

There was a disconnect for Blake. She never understood that fascination some mortals had for vampires, that barely concealed hope that one might turn them, if they pleased enough. Almost like worship. It made Blake's skin crawl, reminded her of things she didn't want to think about. "Yes," she still confirmed, tense, putting her scroll back into her blazer's pocket.

"Oh, my gods! I've heard really cool things about you! Why haven't you come here before? You know any of us here would have been lining up to let you feed from us."

Stars above. This young woman had absolutely no ability to read a face. Blake wasn't in the mood for this. To be fair, though, Blake had been gone for about fifty years. None of the mortals in here would have seen her before, even if she'd spent a few evenings with Coco and Mimic having a drink previous to her disappearance. But this overzealous enthusiasm about being a willing victim to an ancient vampire, although not new to Blake, was just as disturbing as it had always been.

She was far too used to her victims exhibiting fear or at least some form of apprehension. Even Yang very clearly wasn't thrilled about it – which trapped Blake into the spiraling, vicious feelings of guilt and horror that had plagued her forever. Half-hearted consent wasn't consent.

What am I doing?

"…I'm not here for that," Blake finally managed, strained. "But thank you."

Melanie looked visibly disappointed in the lowering of her shoulders and the excitement fading from her face. However, she did a good job of returning to peppy professionalism with, "Okay, well, just call me over if you need anything! It will be my pleasure!"

As soon as she was far away enough, Blake allowed herself to breathe again. She didn't need to, not really, her heart pumped too slowly to require that much oxygen – it was mostly an ingrained mortal habit she hadn't gone out of her way to change. And, also, she enjoyed smelling things in general, not just the scent of blood.

It wasn't long after that Blake saw someone come up from the stairs. Tall rabbit ears, long chestnut hair. Blake's eyes widened a bit. Mimic pivoted, facing Blake's direction, and the ancient quickly realized she looked almost unchanged from her memory. Not an elderly woman.

She was turned.

Fox and Yatsuhashi were behind her, but they didn't follow her when she started making her way over to Blake. Blake didn't pay them any mind, focused on her friend. She stood as Mimic got closer, unsure as to what she would even do, especially because it was hard to tell if Mimic was happy or angry or relieved or disappointed –

Mimic wrapped her arms around Blake into an unexpected, tight hug. Blake tensed, hands coming up, believing the absolute worst was about to happen…but nothing did. Of course. Because Mimic was a vampire now. She no longer had the warm body of a mortal, no longer carried the scent of food, the feeling of a wildly beating heart in her chest, blood rushing through her veins.

Blake closed her eyes, some of the stress in her muscles leaving. She allowed herself to bring her arms around Mimic, too. I've never been able to actually hug her before. There was a knot of emotions in Blake's throat, made it hard for her to swallow. Is she not angry with me? Ugh, I'm so touch-starved.

Mimic pulled away soon after, though, and Blake let her go, blinking and clearing the wetness from her eyes. Mimic smiled. "Surprised?" she asked, briefly taking Blake's arm to pull her back down towards the couch in the alcove.

They sat, not quite facing each other, not quite side by side, either, both keeping an eye on the rest of the area before them. Blake passed her hand through her hair and crossed one leg over the other. "Yes, kind of." She observed her, how Mimic looked paler, the dark brown of her irises now reflecting copper in the light. Not much else had changed, really, and she didn't seem unhappy or pained. "When did it happen?"

"Not long after you…left. Coco practically begged when she came of age to turn me, herself."

Blake couldn't help the strangled laugh that left her. And she noticed the ring on Mimic's hand, too. She'd missed that happy event. "Coco? Begging?"

Mimic grinned. "Well, she did ask me to marry her and be with her forever, sooo…" But then her eyes widened, and she leaned forward with an excited gleam, "And on the topic of Coco, she won't have an aneurysm if you know my real name now!" She stuck out her hand. "I'm Velvet Scarlatina! Nice to finally make your proper acquaintance."

Velvet Scarlatina. If Coco had known there was almost no difference for Blake at this point whether the individual was mortal or a vampire…

But she avoided using that power, regardless.

Blake slipped her hand into Mim – Velvet's, and gave a gentle shake. "Nice to meet you, Velvet. It's a pretty name, suits you well."

Coco had fallen for Velvet almost immediately upon laying eyes on her. At the time, the rabbit faunus was a newly hired photographer for the models showcasing Coco's wildly successful line of high-fashion clothing. And from that moment on, Coco had adamantly protected Velvet from other vampires, insisting she take on an alias despite not even being a vampire, herself, and had been so paranoid about it that she hadn't even wanted Blake knowing Velvet's real name when she introduced the two. Neither Velvet nor Blake really had an issue with it, even as their friendship developed over nine or so years. Velvet was very sweet, and she'd been quite reserved and timid at first, but she had an uncanny ability to read people and truly see them – which made her almost a prodigy of model photography. The deep conversations that had ensued between her and Blake because of this, too, had been the start of their friendship – despite the unfathomable reality gap between a mere mortal and an ancient vampire.

The affection had crept up on Blake and left her surprised, too. She'd never thought she'd be close to a mortal ever again after she'd been turned. There'd just been…too much everything.

But here they were. Velvet was still smiling, until she seemed to notice something on Blake's face, and her gaze became concerned. She leaned back on the couch. "Is everything alright? I've never seen red in your irises before. Why haven't you fed?"

Blake immediately looked down at her lap in a feeble attempt to hide the obvious sign of her hunger, the one she'd utterly forgotten about and should have known Velvet would pick up on right away. "I…" She couldn't tell the truth. Not here. Not even to Velvet. "I have to find new volunteers."

"Well…you're in the right place, at least."

Avoiding Velvet's far too perceptive and still worried gaze, Blake glanced out towards the tables, where the mortals were still enjoying their time. They weren't just up here for the fun of it. All of them were also possibly waiting for the opportunity to be fed from. And that waitress, Melanie, seemed particularly enthusiastic about it. These mortals were giving true consent.

Except Blake's situation wasn't what it had been before she'd locked herself away from the world. Drinking from them wouldn't sate her. But I should try. For my sake. For Yang's sake.

When Blake didn't reply, Velvet said, "Let's start with a glass." She got Melanie's attention, who came over with a wide smile, just waiting for the occasion. Velvet ordered two drinks, a soft Soul Fountain for her and a hard Palpitation for Blake. Melanie gave the ancient a wink before returning to the bartender.

And Blake had never been less interested. She knew this wasn't going to work. There was something – someone – she was craving, someone very specific, and, more than that, she yearned for everything that someone came with and represented for Blake. She knew it in every fiber of her being that anything less wouldn't be enough. And it made her absolutely miserable.

"You're not upset with me?" Blake finally managed, and she lifted her stare with the intention of finding Velvet's eyes, but then…Blake froze. Her stare never made it to Velvet. It stopped on the person who had just come up the stairs at the other end of the room. Someone with an untamed mane of blonde hair and a naturally open, inviting, beautiful face. Someone who radiated warmth like a beacon, like the sun, who smelled like comfort and life all the way from here.

Blake swallowed with difficulty and forced herself to stop breathing. Couldn't tear her eyes away.

Yang was here. Yang was here. Like some sick, twisted joke from the universe. Some terrible, cruel trick of fate. The damnable gods, themselves, punishing Blake, coincidentally dangling the one thing she wanted, needed, most when it was the one thing she couldn't have. Not anymore. Not after last night. Not after what she'd done.

I should be trying to lock myself up again, not reclaiming my place. What am I doing?

Yang went to sit at a two-seater table near the stairs. Her eyes traveled across the room, taking it all in, and eventually, inevitably, landed on Blake.

Velvet had replied to Blake's question, but Blake had processed nothing. Yang seemed equally shocked to see Blake here. Unexpecting. Blake wasn't why she was here.

"Blake? Blake, hey, who is that?"

Blake found it hard to move her jaw. She still couldn't look at Velvet. "She…she's an enforcer."

Yang averted her gaze, broke Blake free. It almost hurt, the severing of that connection.

"An…enforcer? Like, from that organization Coco warned me about?"

Right. A lot of the vampires in Vale had no interaction with Aurora – a side effect of Blake's influence and protection in Vale, a side effect of providing for vampires through Cryolife. "Aurora, yes," Blake muttered, doing everything in her power to stop looking at Yang, finding her own hands clenched on her lap. She tried focusing on each individual finger to relax.

"Are you okay, Blake? You're really worrying me. I've never seen you like this."

"I never wanted you to see me like this, either." She was admitting way too much. She'd been so careful. She'd done everything that she could to hide the black, ravenous beast lurking in every corner of her mind, ready to snuff out life like it breathed. But now, like this, she couldn't stop it from creeping into her system, seeping through the cracks like tendrils of toxic smoke.

"What do you mean? What happened to you?"

She didn't get a chance to reply to Velvet. Melanie came back with their drinks, still looking at Blake like she'd hung the moon somehow, and all Blake could do was let herself be blinded by the sun. Until Velvet put her hand on her arm. Blake blinked, didn't even see Melanie leave. She picked up the glass. Downed it in long, slow, and purposeful gulps.

It tasted good. And the mineral-vitamin mixture added to the blood gave it a hard kick that left Blake's veins buzzing almost immediately. But the moment she set the glass back down, licking her lips, she felt hollow. Like she'd just swallowed nothing, and it made her feel emptier inside than before. She couldn't help glancing at Yang again – Yang, who was staring at her intently, calculating.

So close, yet so, so far away.

Blake shook her head, quickly returning her attention to Velvet. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Velvet could not have looked more skeptical, eyes searching Blake's expression. "That enforcer isn't just anyone. Why are you looking at her like that?"

"Like what? Aurora shouldn't be here."

"Blake, you're really hungry. You're looking at her like you… I don't know. Like you might hurt her. It's not like you."

Blake clenched her teeth. Felt the pressure in her canines, they were aching to grow into fangs. You've only known me nine years, Velvet. Nine years. I've been around for three thousand. There is evil inside me.

And Yang was beside Henry at the bar now. They'd barely exchanged a few words before Henry suddenly moved closer to Yang, leaning into her like he wanted to bite her neck.

The fury Blake experienced was visceral, clenching all her muscles, preparing her to leap through the shadows and end Henry's life right then and there for his sheer audacity. Yang did not look comfortable, she obviously did not want to be drank from, and if Blake had to kill him to protect Yang from harm –

A large hand made of darkness appeared between the two, Blake's anger and fear manifesting her power before she even consciously made the decision. But now that it was there, she made it grip Henry's face and neck, pushed him away from the most important person in her life right now. She felt him struggle, saw his shock and pain from across the room. She knew, deep down, beneath the fury, that it was enough. He wouldn't try to touch Yang again.

But the edges of Blake's vision had taken a red tint, and there was someone whispering in her mind, a sinister voice telling her to "Make him pay for his insolence," and "Show him, my love, what happens when I'm disrespected." Blake clenched her teeth, her fists, and the black hand started digging its claws into Henry, drawing his dark blood.

Yang turned on her stool and locked her eyes directly on Blake. Panicked. Urgent. Blake switched her attention over to her, focused on her expression, trying to remember what was happening, trying to forget what had happened. Yang shook her head, motioned with her hands, mouthed "Stop."

You're hurting him. Blake instantly made the hand dissolve, forced herself to look away, forced herself calm down, secured her hold over her impulses. She hated being hungry like this, hated balancing on the tightrope of her control and fearing what she'd do if she fell.

It wasn't safe for Blake to be hungry.

Now that Yang wasn't in danger of being assaulted, Blake slowly leaned back on the couch and tried to get comfortable again, tried to uncoil the tension in her muscles, shift away from an unsatisfied hunting mindset. It was always so hard for her to do, something she'd spent centuries correcting in isolation with a stronger ancient vampire. Even now, it took a while before the excess focus dissipated, and she felt it like a wrongness in her whole body – like anxiety, not able to sit quite so still anymore and dealing with an undercurrent of jumpiness and grating edge.

And Yang only glanced back at Blake, unaware, uncertain, before returning her attention to Henry, like their conversation wasn't just over for some reason after that near-incident.

"You know, I might not be upset with you for leaving for fifty years, but I'm about to be upset that you're not letting me help you with whatever's going on right now. Why am I even here if you're just going to ignore me?"

Velvet was right. Blake wasn't being fair or considerate. She'd specifically told Velvet she'd explain things tonight, and instead, Blake had been avoidant. So, slowly, she let out a long breath, and it felt like there was a crushing weight on her shoulders and on her chest that she couldn't push off. That knot in her throat returned, made it difficult to speak, but Blake powered through. "Her name is Operative Ember. She's here with other enforcers because of the disappearances and murders that happened recently, caused by vampires. A coven led by another ancient that took advantage of my absence. So…they're all my responsibility. The vampires, the ancient, Aurora and their enforcers…all of them. None of them would be here if I hadn't left. I'm finding it hard to navigate the situation." Without causing harm. She didn't say it.

Velvet took a sip of her drink. Considered Blake's words. "Okay. I see how that's bad. But that doesn't explain anything that just happened in the last fifteen minutes."

That's it? Doesn't any of that alarm you? "…It's too long of a story," Blake decided, felid ears leaning back. Too dangerous. "I'm sorry. But…yes, Ember means…a lot to me."

Strangely, the concern on Velvet's face turned into intrigue and knowing amusement by the raising of her eyebrows and the tilt of her lips. She tried to hide it with her glass, but Blake wasn't blind.

"What?" she urged, frowning. She couldn't recall saying anything funny. In fact, she was extremely frustrated. "What's with that face?"

But then they both saw Yang leave the counter, carrying two drinks. It initially seemed like she was heading directly towards them, and that made an anxious mess of Blake's insides, but then Yang turned slightly and slowed as she reached the table Fox and Yatsuhashi were playing cards at – and Blake was instantly both relieved and immeasurably disappointed. I hate this.

"Hey, guys. Mind if I join you? I brought some drinks for you, on me."

They could hear her, she was close enough to their alcove now. Even just hearing her voice helped ease the contradictory storm of Blake's emotions, calmed the agitated back-and-forth prowling happening through her nerves that had been driving her insane.

"She's very attractive," Velvet finally commented. "I was almost convinced you didn't care about romance."

Blake groaned and crossed her arms. Then she sighed, giving up on denying that before even trying. There were other hills she'd rather die on. Like, maybe, a literal one. "It's complicated. And no, romance wasn't even on my list. None of this was." She wasn't worried about Yang chatting with Fox and Yatsuhashi, either. They didn't know anything. And Yang looked sincerely engaged with them as she spoke, like she truly cared even if she barely knew them, that empathy shining through and causing an ache in Blake's chest.

"You know, of all the vampires here, I feel like I can offer a pretty unique perspective, since I was a mortal dating a vampire not that long ago. It's really not a big deal." Velvet motioned at Yang with her glass. "You like her. Be honest with her. See what happens. It's not any different from a conventional relationship."

Blake creased her eyebrows, almost physically pained with this whole situation now. "Velvet, it's not that simple. She's scared of me, and with good reason."

Velvet looked genuinely confused. "Why is she scared of you? You're the most careful person I've ever met. Blake, for the gods' sake, please tell me what happened."

Blake closed her eyes for a moment. Struggled with herself. Allowed Yang's clear, friendly voice to soothe her. Finally, she found the strength to lean forward and look at Velvet. Tell her everything that she dared. "I had an underground vault constructed, in one of the poorer areas of Vale. One of my regular mortal volunteers at the time assisted me, locked me in. I figured I could disappear entirely with no plans of being let out.

"But someone did let me out, some fifty years later, and I was rabid with hunger and still wanted to die. Ember happened to be in the area. I'd hoped she would kill me, if I attacked her, and since I was so weakened." Bake scoffed. "Instead, she had me drink her blood, and I'm the one who almost killed her. And I almost did it again last night if it hadn't been for her partner shooting me. Because Ember hugged me, tried to comfort me. I don't –" Blake's voice broke, and she cleared her throat, refusing to cry. "I don't deserve that kindness. You don't truly know me, Velvet." She shook her head, lowered her voice to make sure nobody else would hear. "And now I don't think anything less than enforcer blood will sate my thirst. Hers, specifically."

Velvet was staring at her, wide-eyed. Maybe even hurt. Definitely sad. There were a lot of thoughts happening behind her stare. But then…she just said, "Try it, then. Find out for sure. We're here now, there's no better place."

Blake swallowed hard. Velvet didn't sound cold or closed off, like she might've decided Blake wasn't someone she wanted to be friends with anymore, but there was evidently a lot to process, and for now she seemed to be choosing to focus on the more immediate problem. Blake couldn't fault her for that. So, she let out another long sigh, and looked over towards the bar. Sure enough, Melanie's eyes didn't miss the shifting of Blake's head, and she gave the ancient another hopeful smile.

This time, Blake indulged her. She raised her hand, beckoned her over.

Melanie all but ran towards their alcove. She grinned. "What can I do for you, Nightshade?"

She already knew. Blake could see it in her excited expression. But Blake needed verbal consent. "Are you open to being fed from tonight?"

If it were possible, Melanie's eyes lit up even more. She nodded vigorously. "Absolutely." And no sooner were the words out of her mouth that she turned and reached for the curtains on the outside of the alcove's wall, and drew them shut.

There was a mild, pulling distress in Blake's chest from not being able to see Yang anymore, but she knew the privacy was necessary. Either way, Blake couldn't stand the thought of Yang watching this. "Come here," she murmured, resting a hand on the couch beside her. Still, Blake refused to allow herself to breathe. But the mere thought of feeding from a mortal had her canines growing into fangs in preparation, her hunger coming to the forefront of her mind. Her vision sharpened, everything else around her seemed to slow, hunting instincts taking over her senses.

Velvet was watching, quiet, seemingly lost in thought. Concerned again. The last time Blake had fed in front of someone else had been…centuries, if not millennia ago. It made her uncomfortable. But this was Velvet. She was trying to help.

Melanie did not share any of Velvet's caution. She took her place beside Blake, just a little too close. Her neck was already bare, she'd worn a shirt that wrapped around her shoulders – No. Blake snapped her gaze to her lap before she could see Melanie tilt her head to show her neck even more. "Not your throat," Blake directed, fists clenched. She barely contained a shudder. "Give me your wrist. If that's okay with you."

"Oh! Yeah, totally. Sorry, that's never been asked from me before. Here you go."

Blake saw Melanie roll up the sleeve of her shirt from the corner of her vision, then present her wrist to Blake. Blake resisted the urge to breathe in, instead just carefully holding Melanie's forearm with her fingers. She stared at the unmarked skin below the waitress' palm, wished so badly it was Yang instead. But Blake was doing this for Yang – for the slim, tiny possibility Yang wouldn't have to keep making the difficult choice between moral dilemmas and loyalties. And Blake was doing it for herself, too, for the slim, tiny possibility of not being stuck between drinking from Yang or locking herself up again to protect mortals from herself.

"This is going to hurt," Blake warned.

"I know. I'm ready. Can't be any more painful than being bitten in the neck." Her voice dropped into something more tempting. "But don't worry, it hurts so good."

Oh, stars above. Just get this done and over with, Blake. Blake didn't say anything else, just leaned forward, pulled Melanie's wrist closer. She opened her mouth and sunk her fangs in.

Melanie let out a little gasp. That was all Blake really registered before all of her attention was focused on feeding, focused on withholding her venom. The warm blood splattered into her mouth, and it was as sweet as it had smelled. Blake swallowed, practically greedy in her thirst, guzzling and pre-emptively anticipating the first waves of relief she was supposed to feel when the blood coated her esophagus and filled her stomach.

But no relief came. She sucked full gulps into her mouth one after the other, tried so hard to connect to the usual rippling sensations in her nervous system, but there was only emptiness. A black, bottomless void. And the more that satisfaction could not be reached, the more that Blake's drinking became aggressive, uncontrolled. "You just have to drain her, my love. You'll see, you'll feel so much better after." Adam's voice was murmuring in her mind now, spurring her on. There was a ringing in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. Her grip tightened.

Somebody let out a cry. Tried to hit her – Blake's other hand stopped it, held it in place. Somebody else was tugging on her arm, this one was just a little stronger. Still too weak. Blake was stronger than them all. She'd show them. She'd never be hungry, starving, again. She scraped her teeth further into her victim, drinking and drinking, angrily trying to get rid of the hollowness –

Pain exploded at her temple and Blake was thrown back against the couch, releasing her food. There was a brief feeling of burning on the side of her head, too, but Blake quickly healed and the pain disappeared. She came back to her senses all at once, blinking and wildly trying to get a grasp on the situation.

Velvet was holding her arm, staring at something else. Someone else. Yang was here – close enough to touch. And – Melanie. Blood all over her wrist, tears and panic all over her face.

No, no, no, no, no…

Yang put both her prosthetic and flesh hands on Melanie's temples, forcing the waitress to stare into her eyes. Lilac irises pulsed a deep purple. "You cut yourself with a knife at work, it was an accident, but you have to hurry to the hospital to get medical attention." She let Melanie go, and the injured young woman raced out of the alcove, holding her wrist to her chest.

Blake was shaking. Horror and shame wracked her from the inside out. Her fingers touched her face, feeling the blood, wiping it away. She'd done this. She'd almost killed another mortal. She'd lost control again.

Yang drew herself up to her full height, set a furious stare on Blake. It cut through Blake like her fangs had cut into Melanie. Blake was too dangerous. It didn't matter what she did – at her very core, she was a monster. "I'm sorry," she whispered. The atrocity of what had taken place truly settled on her, and Blake almost broke down into awful crying right then and there.

She couldn't stay here. She had to get away. She had to protect Yang, the world, innocent people like Melanie, from herself.

The darkness rushed into Blake, took her into its familiar embrace, and she became one with it. In the blink of an eye, Blake was gone from Wicked Thirst Parlor.

---

Her fingers fumbled with her scroll trying to get it out of her pocket. It clattered on the living room floor, beside the rug, and Blake used clawed shadows to grab it back into her hands. Trembling, a sob racking her body, she swiped through her contacts. Desperate. Further and further down the list. Smearing a faint trace of blood on the display – not hers. Blinking over and over again to clear the tears that kept blurring her vision.

Until she found the name she was looking for.

Her thumb hovered over the call icon. Something made her hesitate – maybe a lack of contact for almost a century. Maybe a fear of this being useless, yet again. Maybe a fear of being judged – and what a strange feeling that was, after being so far past caring for so long.

But maybe she needed it now.

Blake started the call.

It rung once, went silent. Then it rung a second time. The tears freely started streaming down Blake's cheeks. Please… It rang a third time. Then a fourth, dragging on forever, the next silence roaring in her ear. She slowly sunk to her knees there in front of the balcony windows, her throat closing up in her distress at having to face that there was nothing else she could do except eventually, inevitably, cause more harm.

And then the line picked up.

"About time you called."

Hearing her old friend's holier-than-thou tone of voice almost made Blake completely break down. She tried to say something, torn between a strangled laugh and a tortured moan, and ended up not saying anything coherent.

"Blake?"

And Blake could only cry, forehead touching the floor, tears splattering on the dark wood. "End my life, Weiss," she begged, her voice coming out rasping and small. "End me before it's too late."

There was silence on the other line. Blake kept crying, trying to form more pleas, hoping that just this once – this one, selfish, miserable time – someone would grant her the choice of her fate.

"…You know I won't do that, Blake," Weiss responded, quiet and so much softer than she usually sounded. Like Blake was made of glass.

Blake clenched her fist against the floor by her head, another shuddering sob forcing itself out of her body. She sniffled, tried to breathe, and somewhere amidst her halting, bitter attempts to compose herself, she managed to only whisper, "…I know."

Weiss was quiet again, her way of giving Blake more time to gather control over her emotions. But then Weiss eventually returned to a more cutting tone. "Rather impudent of you, calling me for the first time in almost one-hundred years and ignoring my text messages only to ask this of me when you know it's the exact one thing I always denied you. What happened? I thought we'd gotten you through the active searching of your own death."

…No. I've just become more patient about it.

But I can't afford patience anymore.

Still, Weiss' tirade did its job, as it always had – it distracted Blake's thoughts towards lighter, more practical issues. Pulled her out towards somewhere just a bit brighter and more open, put her in a mindset ready to consider possibilities. Just a little. Blake slowly leaned back on her hunches, sniffled again and used her palm to wipe one of her eyes, threaded her fingers through her hair.

"Aurora happened," she finally croaked, "and some other ancient vampire. I've been put into an impossible situation where only enforcer blood will sate my thirst now…but I think it's worse than that. Like some special brand of enforcer. And I only know one carrier." Her throat tightened again and she took a shuddering breath. When her voice returned, it was barely a breaking murmur. "I can't go back to feeding without consent, Weiss. I can't. You know better than anyone what it will do to me."

"Blake…" Weiss paused, collected herself, and asked, "Do you remember the state you were in when you wandered into my territory, some two millennia ago?"

…The wind was frigid, biting, but the air so crystalline and the day so bright Blake finally began to think that maybe, just maybe, if she stopped walking on this frozen tundra right here, right now, she could let herself become ice and be lost to time, never to be found. Her mind had never felt so clear, so certain. Surely no mortal could travel this far without succumbing to the vast, snowy elements.

But then the wind whipped at her face again. And she smelled them.

Warm. Alive.

Unsuspecting.

Blake closed her eyes. "I remember." But then the shadow of a guilty smile pulled at her lips.

Weiss hadn't let her get very far into that murder spree.

"You were a broken shell. Hollow, ugly, painted in the blood of your victims. And even then, at your most vicious, your most uncontrolled, I saw there was a story to you. You're so driven, Blake, and you've come from so far – farther than anyone I'd even seen capable, exactly because of your drive to create change. And after everything you've done since we met, now you want to give up? Now you want to let the monster you came from win?"

"I don't know what else to do, Weiss," Blake whispered. "I'm stuck. Unless you want me to rot away again in isolation. That's all I have."

"I want you to try. We did so many exercises together, spent centuries carving your will into iron. You can delay the time you need to feed, you won't start looking like a hideous corpse for a little while still." Weiss then switched into a more practical tone. "Now, why do you think this particular enforcer is a different brand than the others?"

Blake sighed, swallowed, massaged her brow, and moved so that she could lean her back against her sectional nearby. "I'm not sure. Ember – that's Aurora's name for her – has…her scent is different. Better. Drinking from her is more than just sating my thirst – it feels like…like…" It feels like home. "Addictive," she finished lamely.

"…Right." Blake could practically hear the eyeroll. "Well, disregarding that questionable longing I just heard come out of you, I might know why. Some of Aurora's enforcers have parents who were already enforcers before their conception. This Ember of yours isn't the only one out there. I'll help you by doing what I can to find a few others."

"Weiss, they're enforcers. I was lucky enough that Ember was okay with feeding me the last time, the circumstances were…less extreme, but Aurora wants ancient vampires like you and me dead. Even Ember has withdrawn her consent now." Blake let out another, longer sigh – exhausted, miserable. Just another conversation chasing its own tail.

Practically eating itself alive at this point.

"And you've spoken with her? You've truly checked with her about it?"

"Of course I have!" Blake snapped, and immediately recoiled from hearing the darker growl in her own voice. Shuddering, she suppressed the sudden jolt of anger. "I'm sorry. I – I think I have." Her mind rushed, sifting through her recent interactions with Yang, and her shoulders sagged. "…or maybe I've just been assuming, mostly." But correctly, I feel.

Weiss made this little noise that sounded like a scoff. "What is it mortals say these days? Something about what assuming makes out of you and me…"

"I…don't think mortals say that very much anymore… Not that I'd really know, either, I suppose."

"Hmph."

They were both quiet for a moment, but then the dread crept back up Blake's throat at the realization that there still wasn't any noteworthy solution here. When she spoke again, her voice came out soft but resolute. "Weiss, you've seen into my mind. You know my heart. I will come knocking at your door before I lose myself completely."

This time, it was Weiss who sighed, whose tone darkened. She didn't reply right away, as if still trying to think of any other outcome, any other option they might have missed, but eventually… "Then I guess I'll be waiting, won't I?" she murmured.

"Yeah. I guess." Blake pressed her forehead to her knees. "Goodbye, Weiss."

"Goodbye, Blake."

The call ended.

For a while, Blake just sat there in the darkness of her home, staring out the long balcony windows that composed the entire back wall of her living room. Vale's city lights expanded out towards the water. Undisturbed. Twinkling. Unknowing of the danger that had brought it to life to begin with.

They had taken comfort in the veil of shadows, insanely. Like newborn fawns wobbling behind wild cats to hide from the wolves.

So egregiously stupid.

But it had been a chance for her to do something good, finally.

Of course Blake had protected them.

And look at Vale now.

She wasn't too sure how long she sat there, lost in thoughts and memories, losing track of time because it meant nothing after a while. But at some point, Blake exhaled slowly and looked at her scroll again. Found Yang's name at the top of her contacts. Her fingers hovered for a moment, until she tried:

Blake: Would you accept to meet with me again?

But Blake deleted it. Because that seemed like the wrong place to start. Yang would never just say yes like that anymore. She tried again:

Blake: I don't know if you're still at Wicked Thirst. But I never

meant to hurt anyone. I'm glad you intervened.

And Blake deleted that, too. She'd hurt the waitress, Melanie. She'd been about to kill her. And had there been no one to stop Blake, she would have most likely ravaged the entire bar. From Yang's perspective, any excuse Blake would try to give would probably come across as disingenuous. And she'd be right, because it was inexcusable.

So, shoulder slumping further, accepting that there was no justification here, all Blake finally sent was:

Blake: I'm sorry.

---

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

Blake crossed her arms. Kept staring out window, across the street at the old building made of concrete and iron. It had been a police station, decades ago, before Blake had locked herself away. For all intents and purposes, it had been maintained in good shape and was probably still in some sort of use instead of being left to become visual pollution.

Perfect for an initial base of operations for Aurora.

What a twist of fate this was.

Blake glanced at the woman beside her. Coco had an expectant frown on her face, arms also crossed. They were standing in her office, admiring the irony before them. Or something.

"…I'll start by giving the mayor a visit."

Coco arched her eyebrows. "Is that going to actually work?"

Blake shook her head. "No, but it will slow them down. Getting pushback from the city means they won't be able to move in right away or start reinforcing the building with their tech."

"Cool, great." Coco waved her hand impatiently, "So, what if the building mysteriously exploded in the meantime?"

Blake pinched the bridge of her nose. What if indeed. "They're just going to find somewhere else to move in."

"Oh nooo, another explosion…"

"Coco. Please." But Blake still smiled wryly despite herself. "How are you going to make that happen, anyway? Do you hide bombs in your clothing designs, too?"

The younger vampire scoffed and walked over to her desk. "Don't give me any ideas. No, it was a hint-hint at you to take more drastic measures than just playing politician."

Blake winced. That one cut deeper than Coco probably realized. She tried to say something in her defense, but when she turned away from the window to set her stare on Coco, she saw that the fashionista was busy.

Coco pressed a button on her communication panel and said, "Scarlet, tell my last guest I'll be ready to see him in a few moments, he can start heading up."

"Uh-huh. Consider it done."

Coco brought her attention back to Blake. "Sorry, if I'd known you were going to show up, I'd have ordered supper for you, too. Speaking of, is it really so hard to text every now and then?"

"I…" Blake initially struggled with what to say, caught between two difficult subjects she really didn't want to get into, but before she could settle on anything coherent, her scroll started vibrating in her back pocket. Her eyes narrowed and she brought it out.

Yang was calling.

Yang was calling.

And after the incident at Cryolife's warehouse earlier that same day, Blake had absolutely no idea what Yang could possibly want or how heated this conversation was going to get. She took a breath and told Coco, "We'll talk later. I have to take this. Enjoy your meal."

"It's just Jaune. He's fine. Don't be a stranger."

Blake gave her a quick smile and rushed into the embrace of the shadows so that she could appear onto Adel's rooftop. The evening breeze caressed her skin, and, staring up at the sky for a moment, Blake gathered her courage. Then she answered the call.

"Hi, Ember."

"Oh, you picked up. Uh, hey, Blake."

Blake paused, jarred. Creased her eyebrows. She could have sworn they'd just been in a very literal physical fight several hours ago. In fact, she'd been pretty sure they were no longer on speaking terms at all since Yang left Blake alone there at Cryolife.

Why did Yang sound so…normal?

"Listen, I know you're mad at me, so I won't chit-chat or whatever…but there's something I thought you should know."

Mad at you? "I'm not m – what?" Was Blake's perspective so warped that reality was the literal opposite of what she thought?

"We just found this out like two hours ago. You know the coffin you locked yourself into down in the subway station? It got burned down, completely destroyed. And we know the name of the fire ancient's protegee, or whatever. His name is Mercury Black. He's the one who did it."

It was a little like the entire building collapsed beneath Blake's feet. The sudden wave of vertigo made her take a step to center herself, and all she could do for a moment was stare at the roof while her mind raced. Something in her chest tightened so viscerally she suddenly had to fight a flight response.

So it was him.

"…Blake?"

"I…I have to go. I'm sorry."

Blake lowered her scroll just as Yang was beginning to protest with, "No, wait –"

But the faunus had already disconnected the call, was already vanishing into smoky tendrils of darkness. There was something she needed to investigate.

I'm sorry.

---

This is also not a great chapter ending (like I said at the top, there was initially a whole other scene after this that I removed), but I think I don't need to go further with Blake's POV right now. You guys get the idea, that's what matters.

Hope you enjoyed, even if it wasn't a happy chapter?