Path of the Vampire forum

You can do this, Caligrace. Just one foot in front of the other, block it out.
In and out.
Just get in and out…

The mantra played on repeat on her mind, growing louder with each second that ticked by. Even still, her hands still trembled as she lifted her cup to her mouth. Her fingers clutched the plastic tight enough that cracks began to form, the soft snaps barely heard above the sound of laughter and music that surrounded her. It was nearly deafening, and paired with the scents and array of emotions that filled the apartment, her sanity was slipping from her like quicksand. Closing her eyes, she tried to hold herself steady, a statue among the hundreds of bodies that pressed in against each other, swaying to whatever song blared from the speaker dangling precariously from the ceiling.

Taking a sip from the crushed container in her white-knuckled grasp, she nearly choked as the cheap beer splashed against her tongue, warm and thick. Her eyes started to water, and she freed one hand to press her hand against the hollow of her throat, hoping that would ease the foul alcohol down before she added to the piles of vomit on the floor. I don’t belong here, interrupted the chant, the thought causing reality to come crashing in. All around her were bodies covered in sweat and running mascara, the mixture of cologne and perfume nowhere near strong enough to cover the scent of body odor and cigarettes. They were nothing like the clientele that she brought in back home, and this apartment was far too small to house their bodies with ease. With barely any room to breathe, she was left to wonder how they were even managing to dance, their bodies pressed too close together.

Take a moment and just focus.
That’s all you have to do.
Focus.

A sound to the side had her head snapping around, the sudden cough interrupting her thoughts. It took her a second to realize what she thought was a cough was yet another blonde doubled over, her hand clutching her bare stomach as she released the contents of her dinner all over the floor. The sour scent was too much, and as the drunken girl started to laugh, as if her vomiting was the highlight of her evening, Caligrace twitched. That last thread of sanity she had snapped, and she could feel the darkness pushing in. The scream built in her throat, and the cup she held slipped from her fingers, crashing to the floor. The beer spilled out across her Jimmy Choos, but she didn’t care. No, she couldn’t care.

She had to get out of here.

Her palms landed against the flat of someone’s back, his sweat covered shirt clinging to her skin as she shoved him forward. In her downfall, she hardly noticed the way he flew forward, dark hair vanishing in the crowd in front of him, his grunt of surprise drowned out by the sound of intoxicated laughter. Without him in front of her, she had a free path to the kitchen, where she vaguely remembered a broken screen door slamming shut. It would be enough to allow her an escape, at least. She only made it a couple of steps when she felt her stomach twist, reminding her - painfully - as to why she was here in the first place.

She had to feed.

Sweeping her tongue across her teeth, she took a moment to close her eyes, small hand resting against the wall. There was a moment when she wondered why it was warm and sticky, but the thought vanished quickly as the searing pain hit her again. ****, girl. She’d pushed herself too far. Knowing she was out of time, she took a moment to try and force the break-down back, her sunset glossed nails dragging across the wall. Bits of wallpaper followed the motion, and though she felt it gather beneath her nails, she didn’t care. Not this time. Taking another deep breath, she ran her free hand through her scarlet curls, the scent of the leather from her jacket, still holding a hint of Bjorn, of home, of family and faction, helping to center her. Swallowing, she pushed herself from the wall and took another step, and then another, until the bright light of the kitchen drew her in.

When she crossed the threshold from carpet to tile, she stumbled forward, her hands bracing her against the counters edge. Once she was steady, she dipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket, fingers curling against the metal tin of her pillcase. She had three left, and the desire to swallow them whole nearly brought her to her knees. It would numb the pain, the darkness, the myriad of emotions swirling within her. It would quiet the thoughts, push aside the imminent break-down - but no. No, she had promised. She had promised them all, and she refused to give in so easily, even if she was teetering on the edge.

“Hey, are you -- are you alright?”

Pulled from her thoughts, her gaze snapped to the man that had spoken, his shirt wrinkled and stained with what looked like blood. Zeroing in on the splash of crimson, she swept her tongue across her lower lip, tasting the chemicals of her strawberry gloss. A minute passed, and she realized he was still watching her, dark hand outstretched, as if he wanted to steady her in case she fell. Shaking her head, she tore her gaze away and met his eyes, clear of alcohol and warm with kindness. Not him. “I’m fine, handsome. Thank you, though. Go back and enjoy the party,” she whispered, her accent out of place, and she watched his lips twitch as he realized she was far from home.

Before he could say anything else, she straightened herself and brushed past him, the screen door slamming behind her. Breathing in the night air - still tainted with smoke and alcohol - she glanced across the small backyard, taking in the faces. Some too drunk, some too high, and most were too engrossed in each other. However, a small group off to the side caught her attention, blood splattering their clothes and skin. Instead of giving in to the urge to rush across the grass and just grab one, she tilted her head, and softened her expression. She knew without a doubt, with the moon catching her hair a certain way, making it look like fire, one of them was bound to look her way. She hated to do this, to use her charm and her looks to her advantage, but with the hunger gnawing at her gut like a raging wolf, she hadn’t a choice. Taking another deep breath, she took a step forward, and started her way towards the group, hoping one would break away before she got too close.

The night had gone his way so far. He'd won his fight by executing a perfect pace choke on the other fighter. Though he'd rather had won by an official knock out. A win was a win and he wasn't going to fight that the guy was dumb enough to get caught in the hold. The blonde, scratched at his chin, eyes moving over to the house and the party that was going on inside. He was only here because his manager said he had to keep a lower profile, the press was less likely to find out if he did a back yard fight, rather than if he got into yet another bar brawl. So here he was, some house, celebrating his victory with a group of people he didn't know any of their names. He had heard whispers of the guys here having brawls on the back yard after the UFC fights, so when he was invited, he quickly said yes. Just because he had won once tonight didn't mean he wasn't ready for more fighting. He rose his cup to his mouth, cheap whiskey and overpowering lemon hit this tongue, then slid down his throat. He wiped his upper lip, and scanned the group of guys that was slowly gathering.

Yeah, they are going to fight, and they are going to want to fight me. Because I ******* won tonight. Perfect.

He smiled, stepping up towards the group, he wrapped one arm around one of the guys, Brad? Or was it Ryan. He didn't ******* know but he knew what they were talking about and that is all he needed.

“Ah, So you guy's want a chance to bring down the winner of tonight?” He slammed down the rest of his drink, knowing his breath now smelled like lemon and whiskey. He crushed the cup in his other hand, blue eyes scanning the faces of the group of guys, polo's, khaki shorts, at least one had a shirt on that said something about state wrestling. Maybe there would be someone worth an actual fight after all. He tossed his crush up to the grass at his feet, and pulled his wallet out, showing it to the group as a smile spread across his face.

“I got two hundred to anyone who thinks they can take me down. You pick the fighting style, I'll fallow. You want to wrestle.” His eyes glanced to the one wearing the wrestling shirt, he was fit enough to be a wrestler, the shirt was tight around his biceps, he had a rounded face and his ears held clear signs of cauliflower ear. If Blaike wasn't in the mood to fight, he would have tried to see how adventurous the guy was. He let his eyes wonder to the other's in the group. “Or if you want to box, I'll box. You choose.”

He knew he had them the moment they all looked around to each other and finished their drinks off. The guy he had his arm wrapped around, slapped it off his shoulder and stepped into the middle of the group.

“Boxing. I'm not getting caught in that hold you pulled out.” The guy was at least six one. He was built like he went to the gym way to often and forgot leg day to much. Blaike smiled, and scratched his chin again, he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket, and stepped forward. He watched the other man crack his neck and start stretching. Blaike thought to do the same but instead, he simply stuffed his hands into the pockets of his favorite gray shorts and admired the man as he stretched out.

“You gunna take your shirt off next?” He rose a blonde eye brow over his blue eyes and smirked. That's when the guy attacked, he of course knew it was going to happen, the guy let him know by the way his face twisted at the suggestion and his arm came flying at Blaike's face. His instincts kicked in, blocking it easily with a push of his left arm. Blaike ducked in his right fist balling and connecting with a loud thud into the six one guy's chest. To easy, to boring Blaike let out a sign as the guy stumbled back holding his chest, gasping for air. The other man's arms fell to his stomach as he let his guard down, gasping for air to come to his throat acting like holding where he was hit would some how magically allow air to flow into him.
Blaike stepped forward again, ready to strike, but he knew better, as much as his fists ached to make another connection, he knew if he took the guy out to fast that no one else would fight him. Instead he took a step back, and waited. Taking the time to take a solo cup form the hands of one of the many crowding around to watch. He took a drink deciding he'd at least let the guy connect with him once. Put on a good show, at the very least. He thrust the cup back into the hand he had taken it from, and took his stance. The guy then raised his hands and shook his head. “No, Nope, I'm out.” He coughed, fading back into the crowd and away from the fight. Well, so much for that. He looked around the group, waiting for another to step forward, the crowd was a mixture of boos, and guys shoving at each other trying to convince one another to step forward and face him.

He took a step forward, placing himself in the middle of the small ring of people, and smiled. Time to pull out his favorite parlor trick.

“Alright, Alright, It's not fair I get it.” He pointed to his chest, blue eyes scanning the crowd as he spun in a circle, finally his eyes landed on a guy with a bandanna on. He smiled, and pointed.

“Can I barrow that?” The small guy with the bandanna paled as Blaikes finger pointed at him.

"Uh, What? You want this?”He pulled his bandanna off and shakily handed it over to the blonde. Blaike let out a laugh and held the bandanna up.

“Alright, So Let's make this ******* show a bit more interesting?” He winked at couple of the girls that had shown up to watch. Blaike held the bandanna up, then continued to tie it around his head, covering his eyes, he let his voice rise as he spoke.

“So, I'll blindfold myself, and how about two of you fight me? I can't see, and you've got a buddy to help out.” Blaike smiled, only seeing black at this point, though if he tried he could see the grass at his feet in the fading moon light.

He knew his challenge had been accepted when he felt his arms grabbed from behind, in a loose hold, Rookie mistakes. Blaike let out a laugh, he still had to make this worth watching. Instead of trying to fight the arms off he instead used this as leverage, figuring the other attacker was going to come directly in front of him. He leaned back into the hold, and pushed up, kicking one leg out in front of him. He was met with a fist to his face, the taste of copper filling his mouth. But, his leg had found the target at the same time. There was a cracking sound, fallowed by a thud on the ground. Gasps came from the crowd, and he heard people moving to the area in front of him. Groaning coming from the ground. Blaike smirked

"Well, I would like to believe that's one down.” The arms that held him shoved him forward, and he ran into the chest of what he could believe to be was another guy. He felt himself be turned back around.

“Ah, Thanks. It's a little dark out here.” He chirped to the person, before he took his stance. Fighting blind folded wasn't the easiest but it was worth the crowds excitement. He put his fists up, and waited, knowing he'd have to get hit a few times before he could honestly take the other person out. His mouth was still full of the taste of copper so he spit before taking a step forward. He was met with a punch to his ribs, causing him to faultier just slightly, his hands moved up blocking his had from the next attack aimed at his face.

Blaike ducked and trust a fist out, meeting air, he then hopped, spun and kicked his back leg out. CRACK. Connection. He felt it in his calf, as it met with the other person he was aiming to hit. He heard a grunt, and then was greeted with another fist to his rib cage.

“****, You are a squirmy one aren't ya'.” Blaike spoke, hoping the other fighter would be dumb enough to speak, so he'd have a better tell of his location. He had no such luck but was met with the connection of knuckles to his temple. He was sure he could see stars dancing under his blindfold. He had to end this fast. He reached out, finding skin his grasp, he pulled moving his head forward, this was a move more out of luck that skill.

BAM.

Blaike felt his head split open as he connected it successfully with another head. He had one arm gripping the shoulder of the other fighter, he felt it go slack, and then heard another thud. The crowd went wild, yelling, and he found both his arms being raised above his head.
He let out a laugh, and let the crowd surround him, the bandanna was removed from his eyes, and he was greeted with the sight of two large guys on the ground, groups huddled around him. On either side of him were two girls. Neither he would take home.
The crowd around him was smaller than he had remembered when he put the blindfold on. But what really caught his eye was the red glow of hair under moon light. At least he thought it was red. That might be the blood running down his head. He tore his arms free of the girls, shot a look to the guys on the ground and let out a laugh.

“Good fight guys, get yourselves cleaned up. I'm going to go do the same.” He looked up again, seeing the redhead moving across the grounds. He smiled Perfect. I'll catch her while pretending to go to the bathroom to clean up. He stepped around the small crowd, wiping at the blood at his head, smearing it a bit more down the side of his face before wiping his knuckles on his white tank top.

He shook his hands and cracked his neck as his feet carried him across the yard. Knowing he defiantly looked like he had just been in a fight, he tried to play a bewildered look on his face as he walked towards the red hair glowing in the moonlight. As he got closer, he faked a stumble, causing him to fall forward, and into the path of his desired target.

“Oh, Uh, ****, ****. Sorry. I'm just trying to get to the bathroom to clean this up.” Blaike let his face relax, only letting the hint of a smile play on his lips. Letting his blue eyes grow a bit in size to fake a lost appearance.
“You don't happen to know here that is do you?” He tilted his head to the side, and straightened out his posture to his full five ten height. Trying his hardest to not rake his eyes up and down the woman he had purposefully placed in his path. He then let a smile come to his face, his eyes lighting up their true intent.

“I mean, I forgot the manners I'm supposed to have in front of such a sexy woman as yourself. I'm Blaike, in need of a little patching up. Think you could help a guy out?” He winked then, and once more pointed to the wound on his head, making sure to flex as he did so.

The scent of sweat, alcohol, and dried blood from the fight lingered in the air like a thick cloud, enveloping her. The twang of human desperation coated her tongue, and as she watched the blonde break away from the group, she had to force herself to remain still. He was tall, his muscles large and well toned, and it was no surprise that he was the one that came out on top. He had the swagger that spoke volumes, and she knew before he reached her, that the first thing she would feel from him was confidence. It hit her with the force of a bullet, causing her to close her eyes as she worked frantically to pull apart the myriad of emotions.

Confidence.
Aggression.
Adrenaline.
Desire.

They flowed through her like water, and with each step he took towards her, grew more turbulent until she felt as if she were beneath the crashing waves. This simple, almost cliché, male was a second away from causing someone of her status to crumple to her knees - and it wouldn’t be for the reason she was certain he was envisioning within his mind. As he weaved his way across the yard, she swept her tongue across her lower lip and stood straight, allowing her shoulders to relax despite the tension that was woven within her muscles. Brushing a hand through her hair, she let the crimson curls brush across her skin and fall down her back, her full lips forming a charming smile. This wasn’t something she wanted to do, and she prayed it didn’t reflect in the dark amber of her gaze. Run, handsome, run far away.

He didn’t run, though.

Instead, he stumbled - and directly into her path. She knew the act for what it was, having read the intent in his eyes. He thought this was a game of cat and mouse, and maybe it was. However, she was far from a meek little rodent. Following along with the act was easy, her arms reaching out so her small palms could rest against his chest to steady him. “I’m surprised you’re still able to walk,” she chuckled, allowing her voice to take on an alluring tone that she had been trained to use, but often refused to. When she was certain he wasn’t going to actually pass out at her feet, she allowed her brow to raise at his compliment, her short, quiet laugh amused. “What a charmer you are. I wonder how many other girls you’ve called sexy tonight,” she said, taking a step back.

It wouldn’t have surprised her. It was almost basic, the way he came onto her in such a classless, quick manner. He thought she was as easy prey as the rest. A few compliments tossed her way, and she would melt like putty at his feet. Just play along, girl. You’re so close, that familiar voice chimed, with a laugh as soft as honey within her mind. In the flash of an eye, her wary smile changed, her expression shifting, brightening, and she allowed a giggle to leave her throat, matching that of one of the bubbly, barely dressed blondes somewhere behind her. “I do know where the bathroom is. Here, let me help you. Oh, you’re covered in blood. Does it hurt?” Feigned excitement entered her tone, then, causing the French lilt to intensify, as if he was the hottest thing to ever enter her world.

Without waiting for an answer, she slipped her arms around him and lead him through the crowd, holding her breath as the scent of his blood swept through her. You’re almost there, she sighed, while hoping he didn’t notice that she was leading him away from the party. As the turned around a corner, the lights vanished, and they stepped into the small alley between the apartment buildings. Suddenly, she stumbled, as if his weight had become too much for her. The motion sent them falling, his back hitting the brick of the building with a quiet thud.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Forcing horror into her voice, she followed the statement with another one of those brainless giggles, her hands running along his chest until her fingers laced behind his neck. For a moment, she was teleported back in time, to another man, another face, another situation so similar to this. She had been the intended prey then, and she couldn’t help the smile that formed - before the hunger clawed at her with such a force, it caused her to gasp, her eyes darkening. No, this was nothing like that moment.

Forgoing all pretense, she gave his head a sharp pull, bringing him down to her level so her fangs could sink into the flesh of his throat. His blood exploded across her tongue, and she fed heavily, slender fingers gripping the hair at the base of his skull as a pleased sound vibrated her throat. One second, two, and then she was coming back to herself. Her reality took control, and she shoved him away, her hands shaking as she clawed her fingers across her face. No, no, no, oh, god, no. The taste of his blood was heavy on her tongue, sweet and intoxicating, begging for her to take more, to feel more. Her eyes, when she lifted them to watch his dazed expression, had taken on an ethereal, almost beastly glow, and she forced herself to back away.

There was a reason she didn’t feed, a reason she strayed so far from the vampiric side of her. Her fingers curled, nails digging into her palms as she trembled. Tears burned her eyes, the chaotic mess within her mind threatening to take control, but she forced herself to focus. The last thing he heard before she vanished into the night was her apology on the wind.

His plan had unfolded perfectly, just like he knew it would. It wasn’t his first rodeo, it never failed him. Getting in these fights always worked out in his favor, because even if he did end up as bloody as he was, he always got the most attractive person at the after party. Tonight, was just like all the other nights, though he had to admit to himself, this one would end up in his top ten list of most attractive one-night stands. His blue eyes scanned over the small woman before him, taking in her features. At least number four on my list. He was so lost in his own thoughts, and the fact the woman had her hands on his chest he barely registered she was speaking to him. He didn’t bother with a response to her question about how many girls he’d called sexy tonight.

Instead of answering the question, he shrugged letting a sly smile play across his lips, winking down at the woman. Which seemed to have worked because the next thing he knew, he heard the one thing that always meant he’d be picking his shorts up off the floor of a random bedroom the next day, a laugh. I bet she has those fairy lights in her bedroom….I can’t wait to see if the carpets match the drapes, I bet she doesn’t even have any carpet.


He shook the thoughts from his head, when he realized the red head was speaking again. Catching a note of an accent, he almost thought to ask about it, but it didn’t matter to him. “Awesome! I’d love some help with this.” He laughed at the question of the head wound hurting. Finding himself being led though the crowd by the woman. Hook, line sinker “Nah, It’s nothing I can’t handle, been hurt worse than this before, but lucky I got a cute thing like you to help me out with it.” He winked once more, ignoring the fact that they were moving away from the party and people. His eyes were focused on appraising the soon to be newest notch on his belt.

****, did I catch her name? She doesn’t seem to care, so whatever

I bet my name being screamed out in an accent sounds as cool as hell


It was only when the woman stumbled, and his back hit the cold hard bricks of a building that he realized obviously, this woman had the same intentions that he did. He could get down with that, there was nothing hotter than a person that knew what they wanted and went for it, after all that’s what he was doing too. The blonde man laughed, a back-alley trip to bone town, this had his name written all over it. He let his eyes fall, looking at the woman who now had him pressed against a building. Her fingers ran up his chest and he wrapped his tanned arms around her thin frame. “Nothing to be sorry about sweet stuff, I can get down here if tha-“ He stopped speaking, watching the features on the woman’s face change before him. Did her eyes just ******* get darker? ****, I might be drunker than I thought. Hope little Blaike is still ready for his duty’s!

He let out another laugh as the woman pulled his head and brought him down to her. “****, Yeah you-“ He was silenced again, was this chick ******* biting him! It’s always the ******* red heads freaky as all hell He tilted his neck more giving her all the access she needed, though he started to feel a bit lightheaded. He started to push at her waist. This wasn’t ******* normal. “Hey come on, if you really want to suck on something.” Just as suddenly as she had latched onto his neck, she was done. He leaned back into the brick wall, face a mess of confusion. "The hell happened to your- Hey! Where are you!”

Just as he was about to pull her in again the red head slipped from his arms and disappeared.

“The **** just ******* happened??” He leaned against the cold bricks, looking down the alley way and then down to his arms. He felt like he was spiraling, like the alley itself was turning in on him. His legs felt like they had combined with the concrete and it was swallowing him whole. The blonde man dropped to his *** in the dark alley, feeling his mind spinning.

His body felt cold and heavy like a ship sinking into the darkness of the night around him. He curled his legs up to his chest bringing his hands to his head.

Breath, just ******* breath. You are drunk, probably have a concussion. You just blacked out for a bit after that chick bit you, probably freaked her out and she ran off to get help. She’ll be back soon bud, just ******* breath.

In a small moment of vulnerability he tried to talk himself through the situation that had just unfolded. "It doesn’t matter than you totally screwed the pooch on getting in bed with a ten, you just gotta breath. She’ll be back any minute now with some help. You are going to be just-"


In the alley he fell slack against the brick wall, his muscular body losing shape, swirls of moonlight shining on red hair, played behind his closed eyes. The memory of the accent bit at his ears. The feeling of fingers on his chest, the same fingers gripping the back of his head. He fell into into unconsciousness.

“Ms. Summers, while I understand what you’ve had to endure, you have to understand -- our shop closes at six,” the man said, his voice low and rough, as though his throat was filled to the brim with sand. It grated on her nerves, and she felt her pulse jump beneath her eye. Her smile stayed in place, however, as sweet as sugar with just a touch of arsenic. “And you, Monsieur Jacobs, must understand that this pick-up was planned well in advance by my employer.” Her tone sharpened, and she watched as his muscles tensed, thick fingers twitching as he lifted his hand to trail them through his crumb coated beard. She didn’t understand what the problem was. The door to the auto-shop was at his back, the lights off except for a lone, dim glow in the office. Running her tongue along the edge of her teeth, she fought against the strange, twisted emotions she felt from him.

“Ms. Summers, I have sai--”

Holding up a small, pale hand, she silenced him. “I do not have time for your excuses. My plane leaves in an hour, and we are both here. The door is behind you. Simply open it, walk inside, and acquire the part so we can go about our lives.” The sweetness dropped from her tone, that sharp edge bleeding into each soft spoken word. This trip had been a disaster since the second the plane landed, and she had reached the end of that very frayed rope of her patience. His eyes widened, and she watched as color crept up his throat, into his chubby cheeks, before he started to stutter. She could hear the words he wanted to say, but was too shocked to actually get to roll of his tongue. Instead of the ‘how dare you,’ was a touch of spittle that had her nose wrinkling. Waving a hand, she didn’t say anything more, and watched as he roughly pulled the keys from his grease-stained back pocket and unlocked the door.

That wasn’t so hard now, was it?

Allowing him a few steps ahead of her, she followed him in, her small frame easily gliding through the door and between aisles that he took like a bull in a china shop. His arms knocked items off the shelves, and she stepped over them, barely refraining from just shoving the shelves over completely to make his journey smoother. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she pulled it tighter around herself as she finally made her way to the counter, amber gaze jumping to the ceiling when she heard the whirr of the camera. A brow raised, and she couldn’t stop the secret grin that formed. Had she been in Harper Rock, she would almost stake her life on the fact that someone would have been checking in on her. Being in New York, however, she wasn’t certain if there reach went that far. Shaking her head, she focused her attention back on the wideset man, watching through the office window as he started tossing boxes and items around as though it enraged him to be bested by a petite redhead.
The voice took her by surprise, and she barely kept herself from jumping, her jaw tensing. Lifting a hand, she brushed at her ear, as though that would demolish the spirit that flickered in her peripheral. It had been awhile since she’d been joined by Nine, and she watched in the mirror above the garage door as the bloodied poltergeist flashed her a sardonic grin and vanished. Rolling her eyes, she reached out and tapped her nails against the counter, attempting to ignore the way her fingertips stuck to the surface. When the man finally emerged, the item tucked under a sweaty arm, she tipped her head and held out her hand. Finally. Of course, life was never that good to her, it seemed. Without handing her the part, he headed straight for the register, and started booting it up, causing both ‘brows to raise.

“That’ll be two thousand dollars and fifty three cents,” he spat, slamming the part on the counter, but keeping a meaty hand atop it. It was clear he thought if he kept his weight on it, she wouldn’t reach over and take it. Little did he know it would be far too simple for her to just snap his wrist and move on. Of course, she wouldn’t. Violence was a limited source for the vampire, something she reserved for those that truly deserved it. He was nothing more than a gnat, and though he tested her patience, he didn’t deserve to suffer for it. “What kind of part did she buy? No matter, it’s already been paid for. I have the receipt right here,” she said, removing the sheet of paper from her bag. Every had told her she would probably need it, and of course, the woman was right. Tossing it onto the counter, she smiled, though it died when he didn’t bother to look at it, and instead, held his free hand out as if waiting for her to put money in it. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you? It’s already paid for. The receipt is there, I have a back-up on my phone, and Ms. Devereux has the transaction order in her possession. If you would rather, I can call her. Trust me, though, she will not be as kind as I am.”

His jaw worked at her words, and with a low growl - and a slew of insults tossed in her direction - he slammed his hands against the register and shoved the box towards her. Laughing low, she pulled the part beneath her arm and flashed him a smile, before making a hasty exit. “Don’t fret, cher. You won’t have to deal with me again,” she called over her shoulder, unable to resist that parting sentiment as she stepped back into the streets. Now that that was taken care of, she could enjoy the time she had left within the city. There were places that Bjorn had given her to check out, and she couldn’t wait to find them. Of course, when the man’s name entered her mind, she reached for her phone, intent to text him - but found the screen black. Pressing the power button, she sighed, realizing that it had died. Without the device, she had no map, and no way to reach someone, but she remembered the directions that he had given her. There was that, at least, even if she was awful with such things.

Winding her way down the streets, she danced her eyes across the street signs and ignored the way people watched her as though she had lost her mind. Little did she know, it was strange to see a small female dressed as she was on the streets so late at night, and especially alone. Making her way down the list, she visited each place as the night waned on, until she finally turned the block to the final destination. Running her fingers along the brick, she frowned when she caught the scent of sweat and blood and hear the low rumble of cheering from inside. Trusting Bjorn’s opinions, though, she pushed open the door…


….and was instantly assaulted by the crash of adrenaline and rise and fall of aggression.

Before she had a chance to turn on her heel and leave, a hand grabbed her, and she found herself swept up in the rambunctious crowd until she was at the front. A man tried to lift her up, and she slammed her elbow into his stomach with more force than necessary. It sent him stumbling back, but she watched as he only laughed, eyes red from intoxication. That wasn’t what kept her attention. No, it was the man in the ring, blood dripping from his face, his hair stained with it. In a flash, she realized who he was, last night crashing back into her.

Oh, ****.
Every is going to kill me.

“Yeah, I got him here, found him in a ******* alley again, I swear I’d drop this kid as a client if he wasn’t such a good ******* fighter. ---Yeah, he will fight tonight---How do I ******* know? Because I’ll kick his as into that ring if I ******* have to. —Yeah, the bets are set. ----No, he doesn’t ******* know I’m betting on the fight, but that’s how we get more ******* money. ---"

His head pounded like he had drunk too much and swam in a river of bad decisions. Blue eyes fluttered open, bright white florescent lights violated his eyes, causing his stomach to twist into knots. ****, I’m going to be sick.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up I think he’s waking up; I’ll meet you after the match tonight.”

He swore he could hear the click of the button on the phone. Rage, mixed with disappointment, resentment. The feelings crashed into his head causing his head to throb more, Why the **** am I feeling these things. Last night must have fucked me up more than I though.

“Robbie that you man? My head is ******* killing me.”

He moved to sit up, knowing perfectly well where he was. He was on the bright yellow couch in Robbie’s office, the same couch he always ended up on after a night out. Today felt different, his whole body felt different, new. Blaike flexed his hands while he looked down to them, his head still pounding like the bass was turned up to loud in his head. He bawled and unbawled his hands, then realized Robbie had been talking to him the whole time.

“—I found you in a ******* alley covered in blood, I hope it was your ******* own. I swear to god Blaike if you ******* killed someone, this is over, I won’t deal with a ******* murder.”

Blaike stood, towering over the five-foot five man, He held one finger out to silence him. His blue eyes zeroing in on what he could only imagine was the sudden increased heartbeat of the other. This brought a smile to his face, though he winced, and ran a finger over his mouth. Cracked lip, yep. He had gotten in a fight last night.

“I didn’t kill anyone Robbie, just call your ******* tits man. I had a bit of brawl, then I-“The blonde paused trying to remember everything that happened. He remembered the fights, remembered going toe to toe with two men while blindfolded. Then all he could remember was bright red hair, moonlight shining down on it, causing it to almost glow in the back yard of the house party. He remembered walking with her, her laugh, an accent. Feeling like he was going to get lucky, then nothing, just the feeling of sinking.
It coursed through him, only then did he come back from his thoughts. Robbie was standing in front of him, his thin face bright red, eyebrows pushed together over top of his smug stained glasses. Blaike stepped around the stick like man, making his way to the sink he splashed water on his face. Still ignoring everything Robbie was yelling at him from behind. He took a moment to clean himself up, washing the blood from his face. He then pushed away and turned back around to face Robbie, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“What time is the fight, I don’t think I ate so I should be good for weigh in, granted my stomach is in knots, I’ll just eat big after the win. I think if I tried to eat right now, I’d ******* barf all over your fake Gucci loafers.”

He nodded his head to Robbie’s horrible choice in bright yellow loafers. He knew they were fake, much of Robbie was fake but he was a damn good manager and there wasn’t any changing that. Robbie had been with him from the start. He felt an odd since of kinship with him, but he still knew the guy would drop him as soon as he found a better fighter. If he could find a better fighter. He smirked a little at his own thoughts, blue eyes flashing over Robbie’s face, he’d been talking the whole time, ******* great.

“—So, the fight is in about fourty minutes, I had them push off the weigh in, they didn’t care this isn’t big time it’s just a local match. Do you need to stretch get ready? You look like ******* **** in a hand basket.” The thin man was talking at a million miles an hour, one of the many reasons Blaike tuned him out so often, He didn’t have time for words.

“I don’t think that’s how that saying goes Robbie, but yeah I’m good to fight. Just let me get ready, you know I’ll go stretch get cleaned up.”


Robbie was just staring at him like he had grown two heads. The thin man then shook his head and raised his hand in the air “Blaike, I swear to god. If you loose tonight, you are fired. I’m done with you. Don’t go trying to kiss the guy, don’t make those ******* comments about trying to get them in bed. I want a go seri- “

He didn’t stay to hear the rest of the fake threat. Instead he slipped out of Robbie’s office door and towards the showers. He had to get cleaned up before the fight tonight.

“You gotta fight for your life tonight bud, you are hungover as **** tonight.”

_______________________________________________________________

By the time he had gotten out of the shower, he hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror, he made his way into the ring and trained, and before he knew it he was getting out of the car in front of the hole in the wall place they held low brow fights. Why Robbie had gotten him a fight here after he had been doing so well, He didn’t ******* know but all that mattered was the way the light’s shined on the cage in the middle of the room. Blaike couldn’t help but to smile, his body felt ready. His stomach was still tight, but he figured it was just hunger. The smell of food as he walked into the back of the made him think twice about grabbing any.

The feelings hit him so hard he felt like he had already stepped into the cage. The blonde placed a hand over her stomach, the other running over his forehead. **** this, I’m still ******* fighting tonight. I need to be in that cage.

He got his wish. It was the start of round two when he really started to feel his stomach turning in hunger. The man he was fighting, panted, backing up slowly circling the blonde. HUNGER. EAT. He felt his stomach screaming at him, his body wasn’t moving like it normally did. Everything was falling apart, his emotions were running wild, unchecked like he normally had them when he was in the ring. Blood. The man in front of him stepped forward, attempting to hit him with a right jab to the face. Blaike stepped back, taking in a breath, pushing the punch off with ease. Blood, the man had a nice cut on his cheek from a nasty left hook he had landed on him. Blaike himself was also bleeding, but it wasn’t his blood that was driving him mad. It was the other fighters. Blaike let out a growl lurching forward in a flurry of blows, he needed the other fighter to bleed more, he needed his blood now. What the **** am I thinking! I don’t need ******* Blood! His thoughts didn’t stop him. All he could see is the vibrant red color falling from the other fighter’s cheek, soon there was more. Blaike was on top of him, fists never stopping. He leaned in opening his jaws.

SMACK.

Blaike let out a growl, there were suddenly more people in the ring, someone had been trying to push him off, pull him off. He shoved them; they flew backwards towards the cage. He let out another loud growl, looking back down to the fighter below him. If you could call the thing that was under him still a fighter. Face smashed in, blood all over the tight white mat under him. The fighter was groaning, crying, screaming for someone to get Blaike off him. He smiled, letting out a wild laugh as he raised his fists. He’d won, He’d ******* won. Now he was going to eat, this stomach forced him to, screaming at him like a banshee in the night. Feed. Blaike felt more hands on him pulling, but he wouldn’t let them take him from the fighter, it was his right. He had ******* won, he was the king of the ring tonight, and he needed to eat. He licked his lips, leaning down towards the other fighter. That’s when he felt it. At first it felt like a tickle, then it shot through him faster than he could process what was going on.

He looked over his shoulder to the security guard holding the taser that was stuck into his back. The guard slowly backed away, raising his hands into the air. “I- I- I just need you to get out of here, I don’t care if you won, you just need to let us help him.”

Fear. Self-anguish.

He felt the emotions before he could even stand. What was he doing, why was he trying to eat the other fighter? He was he staring at that blood like it was the only thing that could make his stomach stop screaming at him. It took everything in him, he moved faster than he had ever before, shoving his way thought the crowd of people that had entered the cage to get him to stop attacking.

“Blaike you better ******* stop, you!” Blaike moved onto Robbie, standing over him like he had done a million times before, but he could feel his heart beating this time, almost see the vein in his neck carrying blood. Blood. His stomach twisted again. He shoved Robbie, and almost winced as he watched the skin and bones of a man fly into the table displaying merchandise. Robbie stared at him, eyes wide, fear screaming behind the honey brown orbs. Blaike couldn’t take it, he had to get the **** out of here and now. He shoved his way through the crowd, pushing people out of the way as he made his way out to the back door and into the alley. He took a deep breath in, the night air smelled like garbage and piss. Then the memory hit him. Red hair, a perfect ten, another notch in his belt. Then teeth, no he knew what it was now, fangs. Fangs in his neck, the feeling of blood being drained from him, then a whisper of the word sorry on the night wind as the red head disappeared. Blaike spun around, as if he was going to go back in, he stopped instantly.



“What the **** did you do to me!” He tried not to yell, but he couldn’t stop himself. Fists balled at his sides, stained with another mans blood.

His emotions crashed into her like waves in the midst of a storm, each one stronger than the last. Fear, anguish, hatred. They left a bitter taste on her tongue, and it messed her up. Her hand reached out, slender fingers digging into to arm closest to her. The skin was damp with sweat, and the scent of stale beer filtered through her senses. Blood, there was so much blood. Needing a second to breathe, she watched as the new Norgard disappeared, his rage burning hot and strong. She knew that feeling all too well. The panic she saw in his eyes, she felt. The man who held her upright tried to sweet his large arm down and around her, and she blinked, watching the way his smile was filled with drunken promise. Pausing, she gripped his wrist before he could finish the trajectory, and twisted, pushing him back and away. As he spun, she spotted a blonde just as drunk as he, and by the way she was glaring in her direction, he was just what she craved. Without missing a beat, she shoved him into her arms.

“You’re welcome,” she said, her words drowned out from the sound of cheers and confusion. Shaking her head, she pushed through the crowd, following the scent, the myriad of dark, twisted emotions, until she broke through the doors. Breaking free of the crowd, the door slammed shut behind her, silencing the voices. Out here, she could focus. Out here, she didn’t have the lights flickering like mad, the buzz of the electricity, the pulse of adrenaline. Shaking her hands out, she gathered her hair up into a fist, pulling it over her shoulder as she watched quietly. She didn’t speak for a moment, and instead, watched. It didn’t make any sense. She hadn’t fed him her blood. She hadn’t killed him… so how had she turned him? For a moment, there was a flare of hope. Maybe someone else had --

No.
His blood sung to her, much like Hudson’s had.

Tipping her head back, she lifted her gaze to the stars, but she still kept him within her sights. He was an animal caged, body trembling, fists clenching. To her, he wasn’t a danger, but the same couldn’t be said about the others that might cross their path. When he spun on her, she focused on him, the moonlight catching in her amber eyes. Her stare was steady, showing a calmness that quite honestly, she didn’t feel. Running her tongue along her teeth, she freed a hand from her jacket pocket and held it up, small and pale, to stop him. “Stay where you are and take a breath,” she said, her voice quiet. While, technically, they didn’t need the lungful of air, it was something natural, something calming, while she ripped his world out from beneath him. Crossing her arms across her chest, she searched within herself for that familiar hum of power, and focusing on him, kept her voice calm and alluring.

“It’s going to be okay, doll. That, I promise you.” Well aware that she had still yet to answer his question, she focused on calming him. While still not afraid of his attack, she ensured that he was pacified, before she finally took a breath herself.

“What I did to you is simple. You’re a vampire, but I think you knew that already, didn’t you?”

His rage hit him like a bug slamming into a windshield at a hundred miles per hour. His bones ached with fury as he stood in front of the red head. He couldn’t believe his eyes, of course it was her, of course she was ******* here. He felt his body lurching forward, needing to close the distance between them. How ******* dare, she be here. The moonlight was shining on her again, and had it been any other night it might have stopped the blonde in his tracks, tonight it only poured gasoline on the red-hot flames burning inside of him.

Her hand came up as if telling him to stay put. “Stay where you are and take a breath,” The tall broad shoulder man growled. “**** you.” Why the **** did she seem so relaxed, he wanted to tear her apart, but something inside of him, even in his blinding fit of animosity wouldn’t allow him to take a step towards her.


“It’s going to be okay, doll. That, I promise you.” When she spoke the words, he felt his rage drain from his body. Tense muscles relaxed starting in his shoulders, it was like his tension was being washed from him, his posture went form that of a rabid animal to a docile one. What the **** was this woman. He still didn’t make a move to step forward, letting the feeling wash over him, putting out the fire that was burning inside.


“What I did to you is simple. You’re a vampire, but I think you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Blaike laughed, straight laughed at her words. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d already kind of figured out what had happened, he was dense yeah, but he wasn’t totally dumb, he knew there were vampires out here. He pointed towards the door behind her with his blood-stained hand. “I almost killed that fighter in there, and then I wanted to ******* suck the god damn ever living life out of the only person I could probably call my best mother ******* friend!” Even in his pacified state he couldn’t help but to swear. At least he didn’t feel like he was going to tear the next person he saw’s head off. He finally took in that breath she had told him to take earlier, realizing he didn’t have to breath anyone freaked him out a little. The man unballed his fists, instead choosing to mock her stance by crossing his own arms over his chest.


“But why? Why the hell would you ******* turn someone and leave them in a god damn alley? I could have turned out to be a serial killer, or some ******* psycho.”

His rage washed over her like a flame, licking at her skin, threatening to seep into her veins. She could feel it swell within him, taste the ash on her tongue, and she wanted to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. She had swore when she was turned, that she would never deliver this curse to answer without their consent. Still, she found herself standing in the alley, her amber eyes locked on the blonde. Her childe, the fighter, his large body trembling with barely contained anger. When he stepped towards her, she had remained calm, her heels planted firmly on the cracked pavement beneath her. He might remind her of a caged animal in that moment, but he wasn’t a threat.

For a second, though, she hesitated as she waited for the power to take effect. He fought it, as she knew he would, but finally, the aggression seeped out of him. He went from tiger to kitten in the blink of an eye, and even as he began to spit curses at her, she felt her lips twitch into a faint smile before she shook her head. She understood his anger, his confusion. She understood the emotions that danced like wildfire in his eyes, because she had been there. Their circumstances had been vastly different, but the ending was the same. They had both been created to be monsters, both without their consent.

Running her fingers through her fire-colored hair, she clicked her tongue. “Are you finished, doll?” The question was asked with a touch of amusement to her tone, her head cocking to the side as she glanced to her watch. They only had an hour at best to reach the terminal, and she still wasn’t sure he’d go willingly. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It isn’t often I feed from humans, but I’m in a new place, and we didn’t plan it out adequately. To be fair,” she said, leveling her gaze on him, even if she had to tip her head way back to do so, “I don’t know how I turned you. It shouldn’t have happened, and trust me, I plan to find out. We need to go, though. We don’t have time to sit here and discuss this. I promise, I’ll answer all of your questions, but I need to take you back to Harper Rock where it’s safe.”

The second the words left her, she braced herself for a fight. Even pacified, she couldn’t force him to come with her. No, it was something he’d have to do on his own - or she would knock him out. Of course, that posed another problem, but… for now, she just waited, fingers drumming against her arm as she kept her gaze locked on his.

Listening to her speak, only in raged him more. Who the **** was she to just think he was going to trust her? Why the hell would he fallow her anywhere, there wasn’t any ******* trust between them. He STILL didn’t even know her ******* god given damn name. The rage filled him again, starting in his toes as he felt himself take a step towards her trying to close the distance between them, he’d ******* destroy her for making him this way.

Just as he was about to take another step, he heard sirens in the distance. Bright blue eyes flickered down the alley way. Robbie stood there with a phone on his ear, his eyes still wide with fear. Blaike could almost smell the fear radiating of his best friend. The guy he’d traveled with over the last few years, the guy he was able to hug after every win. As small as the bean stalk of a man was, he was still the closest thing to family Blaike had felt like he had in years.

Feeling like a ice bucket was just dumped over his head, Blaike hung his head in defeat. The need to fight, to throw this red headed woman around like she was nothing fell to the cement like change out of his pocket. He tore his eyes away from Robbie, looking back to the woman in front of him his voice flat, covering the emotions that were turning in his stomach.

“I’ll go with you.” His eye twitched as he held her gaze. Fists balled at his sides. “Just promise me you won’t let me hurt anyone…No one like him.” He gestured his head towards the man standing at the end of the alley way. If he still had a beating heart, he knew it would be falling into pieces. There was something inside of him, telling him that this was what he needed to do. He knew if he stayed here, tried to live without the help or whatever the **** she was offering, he’d end up hurting someone. The tall man hung his head looking down to his bare feet on the cement, the blood that still soaked his hands. He’d always felt like a monster on the inside, covered it with his cockiness. But now, now he was both on the inside and the outside. It was almost laugh able, the sounds of the sirens got closer and Blaike nodded his head to the other end of the alley.

“We should go before I change my mind about running away with some bat **** crazy vampire woman who just ******* turns men like it’s nothing…”

He let a smile come to his face, blue eyes lighting up. Of course he still hated her, still felt like she'd taken everything from him. The sense of danger though, knowing this was probably the worst ******* idea of his entire life, that made him excited. Hell, if he was going to go down this path he might as well jump right it, it wouldn't be the first time he did something completely ******* idiotic without thinking it through first.