NALU set in the Immortals After Dark universe by Kresley Cole. I highly recommend the book series. Check out the wiki for more information. Not required to understand the story, but recommended as the universe is fantastic.

Let's see, if I move my dinner to next Wednesday, and push sewing day for my man skin quilt to Thursday, then I'm all booked. Sorry to disappoint you.

-Lucy Heartfilia (AKA Lucy the Celestial Valkyrie)

You know, I love what you've done to the place. I miss the viscera hanging from the ceiling though.

-Natsu Dragneel (AKA Natsu the Salamander)

The woman in Natsu's arms ground her sex against him, her heart slammed to the beat of the music. He fed in the shadows of the club and didn't look forward to the effect of the alcohol she consumed. No need for him to seduce this woman. She took one look at his perfect form, frozen with immortality at the age of twenty-two, and pursued him mercilessly. She pushed back her mane of dark black hair and slid a hand to the hem of her small tight dress, lifting it for him. He felt no pleasure in her arousal. With his immortality came the cease of his heartbeat and the loss of lust. To this day, he cursed himself for saving himself for his bride, an unknown woman who would one day blood him and bring his heart slamming to life in his frigid chest. He leaned into the woman and ran his lips against her jaw sliding down to her neck. When he tasted her skin, as tempting as Hades' pomegranate, she moaned against his lips. Natsu opened his mouth, his fangs sharpened like tiny blades. He teased a nick in her flesh— blood beading to the surface. From the small contact, she went boneless in his arms. Her head lulled to the side to allow him better access, and her eyes slid shut. As he sank his fangs into her, she writhed against him. He would be spinning after this. When he had his fill, he licked away the last drops of blood and lay her on one of the V.I.P. couches in the corner. Her chest rose and fell in slumber. He would not drink her to the quick, never could, as doing so caused maddening bloodlust.

Natsu stumbled through the crowd. His head was light from the alcohol and the rush of taking from the flesh of a human. Unlike the Forebearer vampires, who rejected the act, he found the experience wonderful and closest to sex he could have in his current state. The music was too loud for his sensitive ears as he ambled toward an exit. The surrounding mortals, oblivious to what he was, couldn't sense the other immortals that found themselves lost in the throes of passion and music alongside them. A few other vampires took women into dark corners. He nodded toward a rage demon he knew on his way out. To his benefit, in his thousands of years of life, he collected many allies in the Lore and just as many enemies. Loreans, immortals, lived among mortals and remained hidden in fear of the Gods' wrath if exposed. The bouncer eyed him on his way out of the club. Natsu, accustomed to this look from the man, flashed him his thousand-watt smile. A few humans in line followed him with their eyes. They raked their gazes across his body. Their breath lifted into the air with the cold so enamored they did not notice air never left his lips. He veered toward an alley to trace away from the bustle of the city. His body blinked out of existence and he found himself in the mountains of Fiore, his home.

His room was just how he left it. A mountain of mess spread out across the room. Clothes littered the floor, tomes of dragons from Lore and collections of maps stacked beneath the castle window, and small trinkets of gems and stones littered along a shelf. His cluttered desk pressed against the stone wall. Maps and journals spread across the surface and more collected trinkets. Anything he could get his hands on to find his father he kept in his room. Last known locations sprawled across the pinboard behind his desk. The paper clippings never showed his name, but always held his signature, Igneel the King of Fire. His space was a haven away from prying eyes. The curtains closed, but he could see the overcast sky hiding the moon. He slid them open to reveal the town below. Fiore, an immortal hub and trading port, bustled beneath his window's gaze.

"I knew I sensed you." Natsu whipped his head toward the door. Gajeel leaned against the frame with a look of disgust.

"Knock, won't you?" Natsu said.

"Why? Jerkin in here, Salamander? Hiding your bride in all this shit?" Gajeel enjoyed using Natsu's age-old name and gestured toward the piles of books and treasures he collected over the years.

"I wish. If you wanted to watch, you just had to ask." He gave a smile that forced the man to cringe.

"Gross. I just came to tell you Sting needs you downstairs."

"What does the heir want now?" Gajeel shrugged, his lean muscles tensed. He didn't hate Gajeel, but he didn't like him either. An enemy vampire turned ally was unpredictable. However, when it came to their hatred for Sting, they got along. Sting's father, Weisslogia the Cruel, killed in battle had led to Sting's current place as the ruler of their sect of Horde vampires. Rumors say Sting assassinated the ancient Vampire himself for the seat, and one day he could seize the throne of all the Horde.

"Fuck if I know." Gajeel straightened in the doorway. He stood much taller than Natsu and madness simmered just behind his eyes. Natsu knew the man in front of him drank to the quick more times than he originally let on. Sometimes, Natsu saw his gaze wander and his eyes glass over in a red haze with an intruding memory of one of his victims. Some vampires collected them with the taste of blood from the flesh. Only when they killed during the act did the thirst begin, and one's mind lost, their eyes burning bright red. Natsu didn't drink from mortals often, but he needed to let off some steam somehow. When Gajeel's claws appeared more entertaining than their conversation, he walked out to the hall, and Natsu followed. The castle halls, his home since the disappearance of his father, loomed in the still darkness. When a Forebearer found him centuries ago, a vampire named Gray, he had wandered the globe in search of Igneel. It took little time for them to argue about everything. Natsu sought nothing more than to be free and forbearing the flesh was not a part of freedom. Gray had urged him to join for protection, and he agreed safety was important in the Lore. The Horde, the next best thing, suited him fine in that regard.

The throne room changed since Sting's father's death. The usual adornment of corpses and blood, that drained through the floor, replaced by books and classy goblets of blood mead.

"Your heinie-ness," Natsu said with an exaggerated bow. Sting scowled from over the book he read. He heard Gajeel snigger from behind him. Sting closed the book with a snap. His claws lengthened across the book's leather.

"I've asked you both not to use that name." Sting's red eyes bore into Gajeel.

"What do you need?" Natsu asked.

"I have been informed tonight that one of ours was slain in your jurisdiction." Fuck. Natsu shrugged.

"I wasn't aware anyone was sent into my area."

"Maybe, if you weren't whoring around, you would have sensed them," Sting said. His voice continuously business and cold. Natsu didn't know how old Sting was, but the heir liked to act ancient. The older a vampire, the stronger they were. Natsu suspected Sting was younger than he let on. Natsu never asked or hung it over his head, but he could have taken the throne. Sting and his father had not been blood-related after all, and Natsu's strength far surpassed Sting's. However, he found himself far too focused on locating Igneel to take on such a tiresome responsibility.

"You know, I love what you've done to the place. I miss the viscera hanging from the ceiling though," Natsu said pointing toward the chandelier that now hung in its place.

"Don't change the subject." Sting gripped the throne until the metal armrests folded like paper beneath his palms. If Natsu possessed a heartbeat, it would have pounded from the waves of power Sting gave off.

"Who kicked the bucket?" Natsu made sure to keep his face unexpressive. Sting visibly cooled, though his eyes still burned with bloodlust.

"The Minstrel."

"That ancient? Who had the power to bring him down?" Rufus Lore, also known as the Minstrel Who Sings to the Red Moon, was one of the oldest Horde vampires blessed with memory manipulation. Taking on an old bloodlust vampire would have been quite the undertaking.

"I don't know, but I need you to find out." Who would slay such an old and powerful male?

"Fine, I assume you want me to kill them. They can't be too strong. Rufus was always a little wooo if you know what I mean." Natsu twirled a finger around his temple for emphasis. the Minstrel's eyes were bright red from the memories accumulated over a long-life and lost lucidity from what he saw. Rumor had it, he couldn't tell the difference between his memories and theirs. His memory manipulation said to get him through the worst of it. Sting sneered at Natsu's gesture. Probably, hit a sore spot with all the bloodlust the man currently felt.

"I'll be going then." Natsu turned to the exit.

"Before you go, Natsu," Sting said, a smug expression on his lips. "Your brother wants to see you." Natsu's body tensed at the reminder of his brother's existence. The current king of the Horde, just as ruthless and crazed as any other bloodlust vampire, had a few centuries over Natsu. Sting knew his name but referred to him as Natsu's brother to piss him off. Zeref, the vampire known as the Black Wizard, killed the previous king of the Horde. Rightfully killing the king or wiping out the lineage obtained you the seat on the Horde throne. Beside him stood Rogue, Sting's best friend. Natsu loathed him too and didn't know how he got along with Sting so well— they were opposites. Natsu left the castle doors to slam behind him. Sounds drifted up from the town below. He could feel the breeze over his skin, but he could not breathe in the crisp air.

"Fuck that guy," Gajeel said behind him leaning against the closed doors.

"What do you want?" Natsu found himself in a touchy mood.

"To see if you need help with this killer. I'm suspicious."

"Why? Everyone hates vampires in the Lore." It was true that vampires were on everyone's hit list, but other Loreans steered away from ancients like the Minstrel.

"There is no current war or reason to pursue someone so powerful. It just smells fishy to me."

"Then go look into it yourself. I have to go." Natsu did not look forward to his talk with his brother.

"Ain't gotta be a dick about it." Gajeel shrugged and traced away. Natsu followed suit and traced to the Horde castle on their vampiric plane. He stood inside a familiar sitting room. Natsu hated everything about the black castle, the expensive furniture, and the old world feel. A soft fire lit the fireplace and two cups of blood mead sat on a small table beside facing chairs. He sensed another presence in the room.

"Why am I not surprised you knew I'd come to this room?" What little time he stayed in his brother's care he spent in this room pondering over Igneel's disappearance.

"Hello, Natsu." Zeref ambled to a chair before the fireplace and took one of the cups in hand. His red eyes glowing in the darkness, black hair tousled, his skin was gaunt, and his eyes rimmed with lost sleep. Zeref always wore older regal clothing that made him look expensive, but they now looked wrinkled and worn. Natsu stood firmly and crossed his arms.

"What do you want?" He didn't want to stay any longer than he had to.

"Come, sit with me, brother." Natsu winced at the familiar tone in his voice.

"Don't pretend you know me." Zeref never desired a relationship before his adoptive father's disappearance. Natsu didn't know he had a brother until he froze in his immortality. Zeref peered over the side of the large chair and gave him a sharp look.

"Humor me." He placed a lot of power into the command. As much as Natsu wanted to fight him on it, he knew he couldn't leave until he did as Zeref said. He peered at the fireplace. Zeref had either been stupid or confident that Natsu wouldn't use the fire against him. Most vampires had gifts, and Natsu was no different. The fire manipulation gave him his age-old name, Salamander. He sank into the chair across from him.

"You look like shit," Natsu said. Zeref gave him a sharp look before the vampire drained his cup.

"Always lovely to speak to you, little brother." This time, Natsu held his tongue over the mention of their relation. Zeref stared into Natsu's eyes in the unnerving way a cat stares down a fish. "I've looked better."

"Something keeping you up at daylight?" Natsu didn't want to come here and fight with him, no matter how weak he was. The power had always rippled off Zeref like no other he knew. He hated to admit it, but he was grateful Zeref appeared to want to fix their relationship as siblings. Fighting him would prove to be a challenge— one that he would one day take on.

"Isn't there always something that keeps a king from sleep?" He grinned at Natsu shifting his empty cup from one hand to another. His eyes pulled away to stare into the flames. "You don't drink." Natsu's cup of blood mead sat untouched between them.

"I don't drink from a cup I didn't pour."

"Smart, but I have no reason to poison you."

"What do you want, Zeref?" The flames flickered across his red eyes, his focus on something that wasn't Natsu. "Zeref?"

"One day you will know the things that keep me awake," Zeref said. Part of Natsu wanted the man before him dead and reveled in his weakened state, but part of him remained interested in the things that plagued him. Zeref's eyes came back into focus, his face stern "But for now, I heard there was a killing in your jurisdiction."

"Always to remind me of my failures."

"That's not my intention. I wanted to warn you about something." It was the first time Natsu could see Zeref's genuine concern for his wellbeing.

"About the killing?"

"Our oracle has lost sight of you. I worry about you, brother. It is the Accession after all." The Accession happened every five hundred years, a checks-and-balances system for immortals, so killing and mating were soon to ensue. This time, Zeref looked up at Natsu with the furrowed brow of a troubled sibling. "Whoever has killed Rufus the Minstrel may be the very death of you."

"Damn Cana to hell," Lucy said between gritted teeth.

"If you keep wiggling, I'll be making these worse," Levy said. With steady hands, she cleaned the gaping wound on Lucy's arm. Lucy arrived at the witch's coven that evening with blood running down her arm, chest, and a smile on her face. Her mood soon soured with the news of the bounty on her head. No one kills an ancient Horde vampire and escapes without consequence.

"Now, I'll have the whole Horde after me."

"Don't you want to kill them all anyway?" Levy cleaned the last of the blood around the wound. Because of her immortality, the cut already began to close.

"Yes, but not all at once!" Lucy could hear the other witches gathered downstairs. Levy had invited her best friend in, threw the bottle of blue nail polish over her shoulder to Juvia, who caught it without taking her eyes off Friday the 13th playing on the TV in the living room, and grabbed the first aid. Lucy's intrusion, not the first time and not the last.

"Why did Cana want you to kill the Minstrel?" Levy wrapped the last bandage around Lucy's arm and packed up the first aid.

"She won a bunch of money in some bet and said she'd pay me for the kill." Levy rolled her eyes but smirked.

"Who would let kooky Cana, the All-knowing soothsayer, in on a bet?"

"Erza didn't want to leave anyone out." Reliving the moment Cana won, and Erza's face transforming into pure regret, amused Lucy.

"Of course, she didn't. Well, did you at least get the money from Cana?"

"Turns out she wasn't entirely lucid when she told me she'd pay for the kill. She couldn't even remember winning the money. I brought her his fangs and everything." Lucy sighed leaning her head back on one of the coven's many beanbag chairs in Levy's room. The room itself plain with few personal effects. When the witch wasn't going back to her bedroom, finding comfort in the upstairs study, the coven told her to just move her stuff there. Levy stood with the first aid in her arms. Lucy pulled a small plastic bag, with fangs inside, out of her pocket and held them up to her friend. "You can have them. Maybe, decorate this abandoned room with them, Levy the Bookworm."

"Levy the All-powerful you mean!" Lucy was grateful for the Valkyrie's alliance with the witches. She often found herself in the cheerful purple Victorian house. The smell of herbs drifted through the house, up to the stairs that wound through the heart, and to the study at the topmost room. The lively coven was calming to Lucy. She didn't hate living with her sisters in Val Hall, but she appreciated the break from the drama and screaming Valkyrie. "Do you want a warding spell?" Levy asked over her shoulder dipping into the small bathroom across the hall. Lucy groaned and struggled to stand from the beanbag chair. She no longer felt the sting of her wounds, sure they already healed, and would remove the bandages later.

"No, I can't go running behind a warding spell. If my sisters thought I was hiding from the Horde, they would chew me out for the rest of eternity." The Valkyrie were all related as sisters or half-sisters, sharing two of their three parents. If it wasn't for the ancient living Book of Lore, no one would believe they came from three parents. When a maiden warrior cries out for courage, the gods Freya and Woden heed her call and strike her with lightning, saving her. They preserve her courage in the form of a daughter, an immortal Valkyrie. Lucy could not dishonor her mother's courage by hiding behind a magical barrier.

Lucy shoved the fangs into her pocket and leaned against the bathroom door. Levy placed the first aid kit back in its rightful place underneath the sink and rummaged through a container of nail polish. She pulled out a purple color and held it up to the light. "I should let you get back," Lucy said. Levy ambled passed her to the hall and waited for her friend to follow.

"You're not staying? It's a horror movie night!"

"Nah, I'm going to take these bad boys to Erol's and see if anyone has a bounty out for this chump." Lucy patted her pocket where the fangs sat like lead. Levy shrugged and padded down the stairs toward the living area. The sounds of conversation and high-pitched orchestral death music came to a crescendo as they went.

"Don't go upstairs, you dummy!" one witch said followed by a resounding groan from all the women.

"Juvia doesn't think that was clever." The screams of said dummy were no more, and the music was quiet.

"You're always welcome here, Lu," Levy said and turned to the rest of the coven. Lucy waved to everyone and left.

Lucy hadn't been to Erol's in a long time. The bar nestled in the party district, the same place she had killed the Minstrel. Loreans from all over came to loosen up and make business deals. She heard the bar before she saw it. The neon sign flickered, and the door swung open. A pair of male shapeshifters stomped out laughing, their eyes glowing bright green in the night. They eyed her when she came into view. All Loreans were beautiful— came with the immortal territory. These shapeshifters were no exception.

"Be careful, little fey," one said, his voice low and attractive. She would normally chat them up, but tonight she was on a mission. "There's a demoness in there with quite the attitude." She waved over her shoulder at the warning. Most mistook Valkyries for fey because of their pointed ears. Lucy didn't correct them, as her problems were bigger than a couple of shapeshifters mistaking her for a fey. She pushed through the door and found a group of Lykae at a table near the entrance. One of them she knew and waved her over.

"What are you doing here, Lucy?" Laxus asked. For a moment, as he drank in the sight of her, his usual gray eyes shifted to the bright blue of the Lykae clan.

"Looking for a bounty to claim." She nodded a greeting toward the rest of the table to be polite. "Know of a Minstrel?"

"That ancient vamp? Looking to take him on?" Laxus' grin widened. "Need any help with that?"

"No need," she said and removed the plastic bag from her pocket. "I already took him out." One of the Lykae whistled low.

"Damn, Valkyrie, out for revenge?" one of them asked.

"No, why?"

"Only someone out for revenge would look to get the entire Horde after them for one measly bounty." Lucy internally kicked herself for the same reason and would outwardly kick Cana when she saw her again.

"I was promised money, but my client bowed out."

"I don't blame them," Laxus said eyeing the fangs, "Good luck finding anyone who gets involved with a Horde target." Lucy shrugged and slid the fangs back into her pocket.

"This is the Lore, Laxus. I'm sure someone out there is crazy enough to have a bounty out for the leech." Laxus nodded and tipped a beer glass up to his lips.

"Always welcome to spend some time with us Lykae." His eyes flashed an icy blue. The look was quite the compliment, but she never felt that way toward Laxus, and he never pushed for her interest since she wasn't his mate. The muscular Scots rounded the table with their flashing eyes and wolfish grins. If she was a Lykae's mate, she wouldn't be very upset. Didn't hurt that rumors said they had the highest stamina in the Lore with whispers of mind-blowing sex.

"Thank you, Laxus. I'll have to stop by the Lykae compound one of these days." Lucy was thankful again for the Valkyrie's many alliances and waved at the table on her way to the bar.

"Lucy!" a sweet and boisterous voice called from a table close to the bar. A small silver-haired woman waved her over. Beside her sat a large muscular man and a smaller woman with short silver hair. All of them looked to be related. She guessed they were demons, as the man's horns wrapped around the sides of his head like all the other demons she knew. Horns were a show of power and extremely sensitive to the touch.

"Do I know—"

"Erza asked us to find you here. I'm Mira, this is my sister Lisanna, and brother Elfman." Lucy took the chair that Mira slid out for her.

"How do you know Erza?"

"We go way back. She told me not to tell you, but she wanted me to help you with some leech."

"Of course, she did." Erza was one of the eldest and like a mother to everyone, except Cana. Not surprising that she looked after Lucy.

"No need, I already killed him." She tossed the fangs on the table. She tired of them burning a hole in her pocket. Lisanna's face morphed into disgust.

"Did you have to pull his fangs out?" she asked. Lucy allowed herself to grin with pride.

"How else was I supposed to have proof of my kill?" Most of the sisters kept proof of their kills like trophies. Erza's collection remained the largest. Her row of fangs longer than her assortment of armor. Lisanna's eyes widened in surprise, and Mira laughed.

"I like you, Valkyrie. Erza was right, you are a troublemaker. She knew you would be able to kill him. She wanted me to help you with the bounty."

"Why would you do that?"

"I'd like to do business in the future," she said eyeing her brother, who shrank under her gaze. "If our family requires a little muscle, we'd like help from the Valkyrie."

"Sure, what are the terms—" A large demon bumped into a tiny barmaid and sent her to the floor. The demon spared her not a glance and sat at the bar ordering demon brew. Elfman tensed and Lisanna rose from the table to help the barmaid clean the mess. Mira rolled her eyes at her brother and opened her mouth to speak to the demon at the bar.

"Are you going to say you're sorry?" Elfman asked. His voice was loud but shaky and unpracticed. His eyes glinted in malicious inky black.

"What did you say?"

"You just rammed into her. You should apologize." Elfman stood to confront him. Mira's mouth hung open and her eyes widened. Lucy believed this was an uncommon behavior.

"Don't worry about it," the barmaid said to Lisanna, "I'm just an inferi. I'm used to it."

"That's ridiculous. Of course, I'll help you," Lisanna said. The barmaid's light brown hair fell in her face. Other than the rags she wore, she appeared pretty and buxom. Lucy felt bad for her. Inferi were sorceri who had their root power stolen from them and rendered them a slave to the sorcery who took it from them. The owner of this inferi was nowhere in sight. Lucy had only encountered a few sorceri in her life. This woman must be telling the truth. Sorceri wore armor and masks, and this inferi didn't even have any jewelry on. Most of them were masters of poisons and kept them hidden inside their jewelry and armor. The sorceri took these from her to keep her helpless. The idea sickened Lucy. Whoever owned this one, treated them poorly.

Another crash resounded in the bar. Elfman shoved the demon and demanded an apology for the barmaid, who was shrinking by the second trying in vain to cease Lisanna's help. Both demon's horns straightened preparing to fight. Lucy didn't wish to get in the middle of a demon fight and scooted away.

"You will do as he says," Mira said with a death grip on the demon's wrist. He gritted his teeth, his brow furrowed in pain. His silence earned him another squeeze to which he grunted. Mira moved quick enough for Lucy not to have noticed when she left the table. "Now," she ordered. The demon glared up at Elfman and eyed the inferi on the ground.

"I'm— ugh, go fuck yourself demoness." This was the wrong answer. Mira grasped his wrist and threw him on his back. The wooden floor splintered beneath him. Her appearance changed, her hair wild and untamed, her eyes darkened to pitch black, and her outfit skintight and more suited for one of the Death Demon clan. With each kill, they would become stronger, and Mira appeared ready to bathe in the blood of her enemies with acquired strength. The shapeshifters were right, a demoness raged inside. The demon on the floor mumbled something unintelligible into the wooden and passed out. Mira morphed back to the shapely and kind woman Lucy first met. Lisanna, undisturbed by the commotion, took everything from the barmaid and carried it high above her head all on one hand toward the bar. When she gazed up at her brother, she patted him on the shoulder with a grin.

"Congrats, brother," she said and disappeared behind the bar. Elfman's eyes too had turned pitch-black, but Lucy did not sense rage when he stared down at the inferi on the floor.

"Well would you look at that," Mira said tossing her head back to laugh at the sight. "We'll talk later, Lucy. I'll be sending you the bounty money." She grabbed the fangs from the table and slipped them into her dress. She turned all her attention to the barmaid on the floor and helped her up. "What's your name?" she asked the woman.

"Evergreen."

Lucy said goodbye to the siblings and happily made her way out of the bar. She hoped the sorceri who claimed Evergreen's powers had a written will, as the demon siblings were going to rip them limb from limb.

The fangs out of her pocket, Lucy felt free to do whatever she wanted. She strolled toward a night club she heard about a few times from other Loreans looking for a party. Dancing sounded like an effective way to relax, yet something else drew her that she couldn't place.

Natsu traced to the familiar alleyway and leaned against the cool brick wall. The Minstrel's killer could be anywhere by now, but he just wanted to lose himself in a soft throat. The beat from the club muffled where he stood. As soon as the bouncer saw Natsu, the man glared in his direction.

"Aw come on, Charlie—"

"It's Brad."

"Okay, Ben. Listen, you want to let me in." Natsu grinned up at the mortal. Every word dripped with power as he stared him down. Whatever the man saw in Natsu's face made him move to the side for him to enter. "Thanks, Bryan." He patted the bouncer on the shoulder and sauntered through the club doors. The sounds and sensations bombarded him as soon as he entered, but one presence stood out. He couldn't make out what direction it was coming from, but it was intoxicating. Their heartbeat like a pounding drum in his ears, a calm in the storm of people. Natsu circled toward the bar, scanning the crowd on the dance floor. Immortals packed in everywhere inside the club. The live DJ bobbed his head to the bass.

"We have to talk." The deep voice slid beside him at the bar.

"Not interested, Gray." Natsu didn't need to look beside him to know who spoke. The vampire's presence irritated him as much as his voice. The heartbeat from before grew louder and just as quickly vanished from his earshot.

"There's still time, Natsu. You're not filled with bloodlust yet." Gray stood stiff as a board with discomfort beneath the red hue of the bar light. He wore a white coat with fur around the hood. Gray's eyes trained around him. Observant ass.

"I'll pass." Gray never showed his face in Natsu's jurisdiction. This night just kept getting worse. "I have some business to attend to right now."

"Surely, you are around bloodlust vampires. You know how they have lost their minds, and you still plan to take from the flesh?"

"Look, I already told you I want nothing to do with the Forebearers. I want my freedom."

"Do you have that now?" Natsu, on edge before, wanted to cause some violence. The building would look wonderful covered in his flames. The fire rose in his throat with the image. Gray wasn't off base. There was no freedom in this world and even the Horde had rules. Associating himself with Zeref enraged him, but he needed protection and his brother proved useful.

"What if I told you I have a lead on your father?" Natsu's eyes snapped to Gray.

"How do you know—"

"Just come with me. Join us and I can help you," Gray said, "Or would you rather take orders from your brother?" Natsu grabbed the man's collar in his heated grip and pushed him against the bar. When Natsu flashed the bartender a glare, the human backed off from the ruckus.

"Looking into me?"

"Of course." Gray's serene expression pissed Natsu off the most. The bastard was cocky, knew he could take him, and had information on his lineage.

"Why do you want me so badly?"

"It's the accession, Natsu. We need everyone we can get." Natsu's grip loosened.

"I'm on no one's side." The presence and loud heartbeat, that intrigued him before, slammed loud in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of golden hair. He twisted to look for them.

"What is it?" Gray raised a brow.

"This conversation is over," Natsu said, body screaming to leave and find the owner of the sound. Gray eyed him curiously but didn't try to stop him. Natsu pushed club-goers out of the way. The presence brought him to the back of the building, and like a man possessed he followed. An intoxicated woman grabbed him and attempted to pull him toward the dance floor. On a normal night, he would have guided her to a dark corner, but he couldn't get the presence out of his head. The flash of gold hair piqued his curiosity. With his acute hearing, he heard the back-door slam shut behind someone taking the heartbeat with them. He all but shoved the woman off him and elbowed his way toward the door. The rush of outside air whipped his cherry hair into his eyes. He slid a hand through to tame the strands. The door opened to a back alley. A woman made her way toward the street, her long blonde hair brushed from side to side against her ample bottom. Her heart sang in his ears.

"Hey, wait," Natsu said. She stopped and turned her head to eye him— and eye him she did. Her caramel gaze raked his body, and unlike the humans from before, it left him with a shiver down his spine. He stood a little taller under her inspection.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Who are you?"

"Interesting pick-up line," she said raising a brow. The mystery woman smiled forcing him to grin back. She tilted her head a little more. A long braid at the front of her hair fell over her shoulder and revealed a pointed ear. He could only assume she was fey, a ruthless race known as master archers, but she lacked a bow. He spotted a curled-up whip and a strange set of golden keys snug against her shapely hip. She was a mystery that intrigued him.

"Meeting someone?" He imagined her meeting with a man and felt his body tense with the possibility.

"What's it to you?" She turned to fully face him. He cursed softly at her figure. Her hips met a slim waist and ample breasts that nearly spilled out of her top.

"Hoping to be the one you meet," he said. She crossed her arms and tapped her chin with a slender finger tipped with a tiny painted claw.

"Let's see, if I move my dinner to next Wednesday," she said running her finger across an invisible list, "and push sewing day for my man skin quilt to Thursday, then I'm all booked. Sorry to disappoint you." His cheeks ached from how much he smiled at her. Her wit so far, the most attractive thing about her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"You first."

"I'm Natsu Dragneel." He closed the gap between them.

"And what are you Dragneel?" She eyed him again at closer proximity. Natsu straightened with her appraisal, for whatever reason he wished to impress her.

"Ah-ah, I answered your question. Now, answer mine."

"Lucy Heartfilia." Her name was just as beautiful as she was. From so close, her heart sped up in his ears. Lucy was enthralling.

"What do you think I am?"

"Ah-ah," she said stepping toward him, "I answered your question."

"Guess." His voice was a command and came out lower than he expected. She raised a brow in response.

"Okay, I'll bite. Either a demon or a leech." She pointed toward his mouth; her eyes locked on his lips. "You have fangs." Be still his heart, she was witty and observant.

"Whatever you want me to be as long as I can take you out." He wanted to do more than just take Lucy out on a date. He imagined taking her throat in his castle room, her heart pounding as loudly as her moans in his ears. "Could take you anywhere you want to go. I've traveled the world."

"Tricky. Demons and vampires can trace."

"I feel like you enjoy challenges as much as I do. Tell me what you think I am, and I'll confirm or deny." A sly grin spread across her lips and she leaned in closer. She eyed him again, taking longer over his exposed arms and shoulders.

"Demon," she said with a hopeful note. He crossed his arms over his chest in an "x" and made a buzzer sound with a smile.

"Incorrect." All at once her eyes widened, and she took a few steps back.

"I better be going." Natsu dropped his arms in his confusion. While most Loreans weren't fond of vampires, they tolerated the ones without the red haze of bloodlust. Natsu's, he knew, were clear. This one wasn't a fan, as she called vampires "leeches."

"Why in a hurry?" Even though her body was beginning to turn away from him, her eyes still darted to his mouth. She turned toward the street. "Wait, did I do something wrong?" he asked. Natsu couldn't stop his hand from darting out to take her arm gently. Her skin like the comfort of fire against his as he took his first breath after centuries without the need. The air chilled his unpracticed lungs. His long-dormant heart spurred to life. The feeling nothing that he could remember from his childhood with a heartbeat. He pulled her towards him. A breath escaped her in a rush, and he took in the scent of her arousal— better than he ever dreamed. Her breaths labored with the rise and fall of her breasts and her chest flushed under his gaze. After all this time he had found her, like a gift from the gods themselves, his bride.