The Skin Underneath

R.G. King

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Copyright 2010 R.G. King

  

Life does not end simply at death.

Good Morning, Sunshine. Black Stilettos. Home.

Even before Damon opened his eyes, he knew that he was dead. It was the stillness in his chest like an empty attic, the heaviness settled in his bones. He tried to excuse it as just an irrational thought, but while he was able to move his arms in the tepid moisture he was lying in, there was something vital missing. He opened his eyes and focused through the dim and dusty light, on the hairline crack in the ceiling. Oh, yes. He wasn't breathing. 
Damon let his eyes roll in their sockets, debating whether or not to allow his heavy eyelids to wander back to sleep. It didn't feel like an after life. It felt like he'd woken up embalmed, his skin chapped and brittle. His mouth was a dusty tomb; dry mouth like a bitch. He moved his head to the side, felt the cold stone against his cheek. There was a pulse there, what felt like the irregular heartbeat of a stone giant. He imagined the despondent rubble of the structure crumbling as the beast stirred. He'd woken up inside of some Grimm's Fairytale nightmare.
The vintage army cot with the coffee brown stains underneath showed no signs of his body having ever been laid to rest there. It explained why his skin felt raw. A sheer layer of dust covered everything. The orchids on the wallpaper where cracked and chipped, the ceiling scarred with water damage. The place was rotting from the inside, out. It was rotting away at the seams. So although he felt as if his body had been lying in that wetness for decades, it hadn't been there long enough to grow dust or mold. He hadn't become part of the floors, a dank organic waste decaying back into nature. The thought frightened him, as he had no recollection of coming into that lost and forgotten room. It was odd to be detached from one's body; suddenly the mortal vehicle had virtually no connection to his existence on the earth. It was coincidental. 
Damon looked left, looked right, and then began to inhale rapidly, intent on releasing his pure terror in the form of a scream worthy of any Hollywood B movie flick, but caught dust in his throat instead. It was a fit of coughing that finally lifted Damon from his reclined position, and the shock of it made his head swim. The hair he pushed out of his face somehow seemed too long. He put his head between his knees, and decided it as easier to avoid the act of exercising his vocal cords since it involved uncomfortably expanding his useless lungs. Air was vital in speaking only. 
Damon couldn't remember the last place he'd been, where he lived, his birthday. His name was still there: Damon Everett Stevens. Age, 27. Male. Gray eyes, black hair. Shoe size? He drew a blank. Social security number, ditto. We don't need no education/We don't need no thought control. Pink Floyd; a piece of random information. The disembodied voices gave him chills. 
The room was much smaller when he was sitting up. The only source of light peeking through the slats of the blinds looked artificial, neon. He swallowed, his throat sore and dry, his body tense, his mind finally finding a memory in the empty expanse of his brain, and a familiar feeling rose in his stomach, the feeling of being haunted, the feeling of being touched by God. The memory made him uneasy, made him wonder if maybe he'd become conscious of some old dream, or maybe he'd finally arrived in Hell. Damon wanted to hit himself just for daring to think it, and he knew that he needed to move from that place if only to spare his sanity.
He stood up, shaky at first, ignoring how his joints wanted to stick, but eager to depart from the uncomfortable moisture on the floor. He used the wall to support himself when he thought his knees would give, hating how the wallpaper crumbled under his fingers when his hand balled to a fist. Damon closed his eyes and lowered his head, trying to control the nausea and dizziness that made it hard for him to think. Teacher leave them kids alone. His tongue felt swollen against the taste of metal in his mouth.
The brown shirt he was wearing had been an unconscious thought, but when he fully opened his eyes, he felt like the bottom dropped out of the floor. What he realized was that he'd actually been wearing a white shirt, which made so much more sense because Damon didn't think that he'd even owned a brown shirt, maybe in a wrinkled heap in the bottom of his closet, but Damon was not an actively brown shirt wearing type of guy. The white jockey shirt he had on was stained brown though, and while it was dim and it wasn't the precise shade of red he would've expected, the sticky consistency told him that what he'd assumed was water, was actually blood. 
Something horrible had happened while Damon had been asleep. Panic and disgust made him pull the stiff fabric over his head, while thinking every frightening thought he'd ever had in the middle of the night, the chills he'd felt when he read about serial killers, irrational thoughts about ghosts and monsters, fears of the dark, of never seeing the age of thirty, of never again fucking a woman. Damon threw his shirt into a puddle of blood and water. Drowned. He ran his hands over his clothes and tried to look into the individual threads in order to tell if he'd been soaked in blood or water. Damon had no pain, no sign of wounds when he ran his hands over his body. Someone else's maybe? The pounding under his feet floated up to his ear and made it hard for him to think. He thought it was music, but the low decibels reaching his ears would have required subwoofers the size of a Volkswagen to be able to resonate through the stone floor. 
First using the wall and then the sink with a layer of dust as thick as the lint screen in a dryer, Damon began making his way to the door. There was no toilet there, no mirrors, or soap. Embarrassed that he had to shuffle because his legs wouldn't work, Damon made his way to the door opposite the cot so that he wouldn't trip over it. More than anything in his entire life, he hoped that the door would be unlocked. He didn't know what he'd do if the room was a prison. Lose his mind? Crawl up into the fetal position and pull out his hair? With the holes in the drywall near the floor that were just the right size for rats, his own blood seeping into the stone floor, and the overwhelming emptiness of the lack of life in his chest, he didn't think it would be long before he lost his mind.
Damon laid his weight on the cold metal of the antique doorknob of the only exit. The door itself was made of natural and worn sturdy oak, perfect for a prison. But the knob turned easily and he pushed it open using all of his weight. Once the music blasted into his ears, he lost control of the balancing act on his numb feet and he fell onto the landing of the stairwell, barely managing to grasp the railing to keep from tumbling over the edge. He pushed against the back wall, covering his ears and feeling frantic to comprehend what he was hearing. It sounded like pumping tribal music, the bass imitating the heartbeat of an animal being hunted. It was driving the atmosphere extending directly from the sound system to assault his brain. Damon sat on the dirty landing, with just a single light bulb to keep him company. The stairs were covered in threadbare red carpeting, and the one flight ended with a black doorway. Nowhere to go but down. There was heavy bass thudding where his heart should have been. Dead. He was dead. The music pounded against his skin and made him feel claustrophobic. Everything felt too harsh, too raw.
With nowhere else to go, Damon rose to his feet and started down, gritting his teeth, leaning against the wall for support. He was careful not to misstep and fall, but he had a feeling that it probably wouldn't matter. Whatever had happened to his body was permanent. He suspected that there was nowhere else for him to go. It was easier to handle the pressure as his ears adjusted. He'd been invited to a party? He wondered how he'd appear to other people, and raised a hand to his cheek instinctively, expecting rough stubble but was surprised to find himself clean shaven, closer than he'd ever been before. His hand was still rubbing his chin when he stepped off the bottom step and was enfolded in black velvet curtains. 
Before he passed through them his hand rose, in memory, to a specific spot above his left eye and paused there. He'd had the strange realization, almost a reminder of self when most of who he had been was forgotten; that he'd had a scar or some kind of indentation there, but his mind had lied and his fingers found only smooth skin. Damon wondered why he'd thought that in the first place. Had there been a scar? He couldn't remember. No memories were logged in his head. He wanted a mirror badly, to make sure that he was still himself; that his hair that felt too long was still black, that his eyes were still the same ethereal silver hue. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he pushed himself through the smooth and heavy fabric, and felt the soft skin on the inside of his elbows, the upper arm, up to his shoulders. He didn't know what he was looking for. He'd thought he would find something there to comfort him, but he had no idea what it was.
Once Damon had been freed from the claustrophobic weight of the curtains, he stopped. His mind wouldn't let him consider the idea that all of the people dancing under the black lights and strobes were all there because of him. That he had any place to be waking up dead there. It was a fucking rave. He stood and stared. A fucking rave. The intermittent light source showed people consumed in the act of dancing, normal young adults and teens. Party kids. It was like he'd fallen asleep and woken up on a Saturday night, dead, yes he knew, dead; not breathing, no heartbeat, cold as ice, and woke up in a club, music pumping, bodies swaying, laughing, smiling, happy. He stood there, not able to move, leaning against the doorframe, and trying to contemplate how in the Hell he could've gotten there. 
And it wasn't an ordinary nightclub. Damon recognized that it was some underground party. The kind of stuff that he was afraid of getting too sucked into, the parties that are thrown in warehouses and barns in the early morning hours, outside of the city, and entry by association only. You've got to know people. It was the kind of place that people from his industry, people in the business, would disappear for days at a time and come back and crash at Damon's place to sleep it off and wake up with crazy stories about what went on; funny that this was his first solid recollection of being an ordinary everyday human man. Here, this was deep underground, heavy metal pumping from the speakers, beautiful people, flashes of needles, people snorting off the mirrored buffer of the bar. Damon absentmindedly scratched at an itch in the inside of his elbow. All the drinks in sight were various shades of red, some thick burgundy and set on fire, others chili pepper red glowing embers, downed straight. These were black leather wearing, pierced, tattooed, and branded people, who partied for days on end. The crowd parted briefly for Damon to get a glance at the pile of naked bodies writhing in the middle of the dance floor. Unreal. 
Damon pushed the hair out of his face and wondered if he looked presentable. He'd never had the typical college boy look; he'd always been pale, which made him look sick next to such black hair, and almost translucent eyes. "Like an old spirit." He heard a voice in his mind, a memory. It was a female voice, distinctive, like someone he knew he shouldn't have forgotten, but couldn't recall a name or face. The darkness may have saved him.
 Looking at the bar made Damon's stomach clench. He wanted to fill the void that was forming his stomach. There was a succulent smell coming from behind the bar. It was a pungent meaty smell that made something move in his stomach. He moved towards the bar, reaching for his wallet, and found it missing. He didn't even know if he'd have money if it had been there. Who knew what had transpired in his life prior to his departure from the living, but the reflex was a comforting return to something that no longer existed. Sure normal people had a license, a library card, video membership and pictures of cute children in their wallets, credit cards. What had happened to him? What kind of man had he been? All old comforts were gone. For the first time, Damon thought he was going to lose it.
Fuck. All the anxiety he'd ever had about death crowded his brain. All fears of the afterlife were resurrected because, fuck, he'd forgotten to repent all of his sins and find Jesus or Buddha or whatever crazy God allowed his soul to remain conscious and in its body long after that same body had ceased functioning. He needed a drink from the bar, he told himself, to be steady. He needed to wake the HELL up.
 Damon leaned against the wall and ran his hand along the plaster popcorn. There were deep-set benches lining the dance floor. He needed to sit. A blonde with hair to her waist seemed to catch his movement out of the corner of her eye and gave him a smile from the corner of her mouth. She was gorgeous, and practically naked, when you counted the rips in her stockings, but he didn't hold her eye or smile back. He had no idea where he was or what kind of people he was dealing with, so he walked by her as quickly as he could to sink into the soft leather seat. He was acting like a creep, like he was so sure that he'd become some kind of monster. 
Damon sat and forced his lungs to take yawning inhalations in an effort to calm himself, but it didn't help. Each inhalation of air made his lungs feel like crumpled brown paper bags expanding. He leaned against the wall and looked further down on the red leather bench that ran along the wall as far as he could see. There was a man within reaching distance, big, muscular, and bald headed, kissing the neck of a woman with teased curly hair straddling him. Her smiling face met his eyes and his eyes darted away. The insistent smell of good food made him finally think to find an exit. He couldn't just stay there. The people who'd brought him there would be looking for him, and he needed to get home, get something to eat and straighten things out. Standing up seemed easier. He tried to look over the crowd to decide in which direction to move, but a swift motion out of the corner of his eye made him turn in the direction he'd come from. Two men with sunglasses on and dressed all in black lift up the curtain he'd just exited and disappeared behind it.
Damon's stomach dropped. It was forming in his mind. He had been brought there for a reason, he did have captors. He worried that the repetitive and increasingly faster pumping of the music was intensifying his anxiety. It felt like his heartbeat was back, only it was now being hunted; it was terrified, and it was in theater quality surround sound. Damon started through the crowd, heading in any direction in hopes of some quiet, or some clear thoughts. A severe pang in his stomach made him stop. It was hunger and something else, an emotion he couldn't quite place. Doubling over, Damon noticed what looked like blood splattered on the concrete floor. His vision blurred. He wondered if he had been unconscious for days, weeks. Murdered? The smell remained and gave him the will to stand up straight. His body was screaming at having to use so much energy with no fuel in return. He'd be okay if he could fill the hole in his stomach. 
He ducked as best he could, but people were dancing so close that they looked as one, arms and legs flailing out of a mutual being. There seemed to be no end of the crowd. It was when he'd completely lost all of his sense of direction that the music stopped. It not only stopped, it sounded like someone had literally yanked the sound system's cord out of the wall. Everyone stopped moving and for a moment Damon heard silence as absolute as he'd ever imagined. Then the lights came on. 
Damon froze. He wouldn't even be able to describe the starkness of the scene. It was as if God had pulled the night out. Pale skin, moist with sweat and red, white, red, red, red, intermixed with sets of green, glowing eyes. Sometimes, when an animal's eyes hit the right angle, you can see their night vision lenses. He was seeing theirs. One hundred people, and not one breath in the room. Impossible. That was the word of the day. Damon heard the footsteps approaching and he dove headfirst into the crowd, but the suckers were fast and managed to get their hands on his ankles. The men in black. Except these weren't wearing sunglasses and their eyes were as black and dead as night. Damon's face hit the concrete and he tasted blood. Before Damon even remembered to inhale in order to scream, the music is back on, and the crowd were insects squirming against him as the linebackers in suits led him back in the direction he'd came. Someone plugged in the juice, and it was if nothing had ever happened. And the Beat goes on. 
Damon fought with the conviction of someone who thought they were about to be dragged back to the place where they'd died. Instead the rock solid arms, raising him inches off of the ground, forced him past the bar and through the folds of a royal blue drapery veined in gold. An antique crystal chandelier hung over the stairwell in the adjoining room, red wallpaper with golden vines and daunting candelabras held flickering Victorian candlesticks along the path. There was actual carpet there. He relaxed in their hands. Damon couldn't complain much about his accommodations there, even if he remained a prisoner. On the stairwell, the hands squeezing his arms loosened and he could hear murmuring coming from above them. He caught the smell again, and his stomach was beginning to speak to him. It seemed to have a voice.
It was calmer there, he realized as soon as he'd entered the doorway. The lighting was dim, small spotlights of light pointed at the floor from between slats in the gritty old blinds clinging to a small window. He could smell food. The entire west wall was a vertical half dome in which he could see the party he'd been physically removed from. The lounge was still part of the club, but managed to hover above them. Higher up in the proverbial food chain. Damon couldn't help but shudder. He didn't want to keep thinking like that. They had looked like animals. He was beginning to believe he was among monsters. He assessed the room of well-dressed people and high security. This was as VIP as you could get. Where did the monsters hide among the beautiful? 
 Was he part of some kind of medical experiment? Rich people did shit like that all the time. 
 A distinguished older gentleman with a seaman style navy blazer glanced at him but his conversation didn't stop. Eyes darted his way, but no one stopped or acknowledged his presence. The men who'd lugged him up the stairs now let him go and then went back through the magic curtain, the beat to a song that seemed familiar distracted him but then they fell shut and he was trapped on the other side with the classical music playing. It was while taking a few steps following the enticing scent that would quiet the voice in his ear, that Damon first saw her. 
She was talking to a man in a pinstriped blue suit. Damon was too far away to hear anything they were saying, but he took a step forward, trying to get closer and almost knocked over a chair. What was he doing? He didn't even know this woman. But there was something about her that seemed familiar, and the scent was strong there, it was by her, so it seemed he had no choice. Her curly blonde hair was loose in a bun, sophisticated but not formal. Her green blouse was sleeveless and clung to her body, rose up her long neck. The skirt was black, knee length and made of a slinky material that showed every curve and the slit up the back was nearly illegal. He made his way through the crowd, past the bar and groups of people talking, trying to get closer without seeming obvious. She was all Damon could see. 
Black stiletto pumps, conservative, except for the way the thin strap rose above the heel and wrapped around the ankle. They made him think of whips and chains, those shoes. This was a woman of detail. This was a woman who had a purpose for every movement. Her green eyes flicked his way and he caught them. She didn't give him any acknowledgement, just returned her eyes to the man speaking to her. The Suit was all business, uninteresting, and unimportant. Damon tried to get closer, dodged bodies, and her eyes caught his again. This time he was rewarded with a tiny smile from those glossy pink lips. She knew he was coming. With a thin and delicate hand she raised the glass to her lips, the ring on her middle finger glinted in the light that told him without a doubt that it was a diamond. Her drink was thick and left a pink haze clinging to the sides of the glass. That great smell, he knew, was coming from her. 
Damon was disappointed when her eyes returned to the man again. He paused. Maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. What about his escape? He'd never done anything this crazy, had never so much as gotten up the nerve to start a conversation with a girl sitting next to him at the bar. Just, suddenly, he didn't care. Her green eyes met his again. She was calling him, he knew. He walked over and somehow, without saying a word, she'd sent the businessman away. There was a sly smile playing at her lips. 
"My name is Lilith," she said, her words deliberate, her voice deep and calming. 
"I'm Damon." His voice sounded harsh to his own ears, as if he'd been screaming.
"It's a pleasure to meet you properly." She took a sip of her drink and Damon realized that he had nothing to say to her. "You must be cold," she said.
He wrapped his arms around his chest, as if it would actual shield his flesh from her. "Freezing, actually," he said, subconsciously looking around as if there might have been clothes lying around. Freezing was an understatement. He felt raw.
Lilith nodded to one of the security men standing off to the side. This one was dressed like the others, fully equipped with his sunglasses on. The man went into a closet that blended in and was flush with the wall and pulled out a shirt much like one that he'd torn off his back in the bleak, filthy room. "You must be hungry, too," she said, handing him her own glass. He took it but just looked at it. What good would this do? How about steak and shrimp? He shook is head and handed it back. Lilith narrowed her eyes. "Let's go. I don't want to be here anymore than you do."
She started to walk off, but Damon held his ground. "Where are we going?"
Lilith paused and smirked at him with pouty pink lips. "You're going home."
She led him through a back exit that was really just a narrow stairway that opened into an alley, and a limo pulled up almost immediately, as if it had been entirely pre-planned. Damon hoped that she knew where he lived, that he'd been right and they did know each other, and she kept her word because he couldn't remember where he lived. Images came, like his record collection, his guitars, and a front door lock that stuck half the time. Gene Simmons's autograph. But no specific number or street name came to mind. He kept his distance from Lilith as he walked behind her. She moved with a slow gracefulness that seemed to threaten violence. The driver opened the door for them but wouldn't meet Damon's eyes.
Damon sank into the leather upholstery facing the driver and Lilith chose the seat directly in front facing him and crossed her legs, letting her toes linger on the inside of his leg. His eyes followed the curve of her leg up to her face and he instinctively put his hand on his stomach, which felt sore from the hunger. There was something behind his ear whispering, eat. Now the goddess before him smelled like fresh cooked meat. It wasn't right. But then, nothing was anymore.
He met her eyes and he knew for sure that she was the reason he was like this. It was all there. He didn't know why he was so sure of this, but it was the truth. "Please," he said. "Tell me why I'm like this." 
Lilith's face held no emotions. "They'll be plenty of time for explanations."
Damon knew she was playing with him. Everything about her told him that; her posture, the hand on her knee, her flirting eyelashes. Pink lips. She was every woman in his life who'd ever led him on, lied, used him, stomped on his heart and wasted his time, all rolled into one. Lilith was A Rachael, A Gabrielle- that was the last one wasn't it? A Leslie, A Nicky, that girl at the staffing party who'd gone down on him in the copy room, and God, he'd loved them. He could see the laughter in Lilith's eyes. She knew she was manipulating him. Suddenly, he was hit with a pang of remorse at his missing life and memories, and the only thing he found in the empty expanse of his brain was a still shot of himself having a cup of coffee at his Mom's kitchen table. And he'd rather have been there than anywhere else at that moment, dead or not. 
"Let me out," Damon said, softly at first. "Tell the driver to stop."
"No," Lilith said firmly.
"Let me out," He said, louder. Lilith didn't say anything, she just stared him down with those green eyes that he was sure could stop a Mack truck dead in its tracks. Damon was the first to look away. "Where are you taking me?"
Lilith didn't reply, just examined her manicure. Damon sighed and tried to ignore the terror that was threatening to take over his mind. He tried hard to remember anything about his death, now that he was so sure of her involvement. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, but nothing came. She was silent for the rest of the ride, until he was well into her territory.

Lilith opened the door and walked in, not turning back to watch him enter, acting unconcerned if he ran. But they'd passed two security guards posted at the end of the hallway, and if he tried anything, they'd be on him in less than thirty seconds. Damon entered just enough so that he could close the door behind him. It had been evident when they'd pulled up in front of the upscale, luxury, resort style apartment building that it wasn't where he belonged. Still, he'd followed her, because he was a prisoner, and because he needed to see what she knew about his death. Damon stood there in the arched entryway and watched as she took off her jacket and draped it over an expensive looking chair. Everything in the apartment looked expensive. It was like walking into one of those stupid decorating shows. He'd always thought of wealth as not worrying if something spilled on the cream colored silk feather down chez lounge. He could just buy another. This is what Lilith's place reminded him of, with the massive mahogany furniture, crystal chandelier and real flowers on the hall table. He was afraid to touch anything, to fully enter the formal sitting room. He was afraid, period. 
Lilith disappeared from his view without saying a word. How would he escape? Damon swallowed, scratched the inside of his arm. He was at her mercy. But answers were coming. If there was a God, answers would arrive with the click of her heels on the marble floor. Then, she was next to him, halfway up the hallway. It was like he was watching her in one of those flip books that seemed to just be pictures, but when you bent them back and let them slip past your thumb, you could see it move in a halted animation. She had let her hair down, her curls hanging low beneath her shoulders, and she was wiping her hands on a paper towel. The food smell was getting stronger. The little bug in his ear was beginning to shout.
Lilith gave him a genuine smile and went into the kitchen to throw out the paper towel. It was the first real positive sign she'd given him. His eyes undressed her for a moment, visualizing red lace underwear, and then he shivered. Was she the same as he was? Would her skin be icy, too? 
"Make yourself at home," Lilith said, coming back into the room much sooner than Damon had expected. He took a few steps forward only because she'd told him to, but wasn't sure if he wanted to sit on the couch, loveseat, oversized reading chair, the sofa sized ottoman or piano bench. Lilith just stood and looked at him. He'd always assumed he'd enjoy it. He didn't, though. "This is the first time for me too," she said. Damon detected a slight accent that he couldn't place. She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. "Come here," she paused. "I won't bite." Damon hesitated but sat next to her. The couch sank down slowly under his weight and for a brief moment he had an irrational thought that it was trying to swallow him. "I know you have questions for me."
"What happened to me?" He asked, looking into her green eyes for the first time since they'd arrived. 
Lilith smiled, looked at him like the child she'd created by forcing him to bend to her will. "There's nothing wrong with you. Your body has evolved into a completely different species, Damon."
Damon, whose elbow rested on the arm of the couch, kneaded the skin of his forehead with his thumbs. "What?" He asked the lush beige rug. This idea was too big for Damon to wrap his head around. He shook his head and pushed his hair out of his face. To look her in the eyes, and see if she was lying. "Explain this to me in words I can understand."
"Damon, you're dead," she said, her voice was gentle, trying not to crack his fragile brain.
"I figured that part out on my own, thanks," he snapped. "But what the hell does it mean?"
"It means you're a vampire." 
She'd said it so simply that Damon had to take a moment to let it sink it. He was working at half speed. 
He stood up and with both hands pulled his hair. No. It wasn't possible. Was she insane? Was he? Then the knowledge grew in his chest, that there was no way to restart his heart. And he just stood there.
"Where are you going?" She asked, like he'd just backed out of a business deal. Damon's mind paused. Good Question. He fell back onto the couch, putting his head between his knees. He was starting to lose it. A small moan escaped his lips. There was no heartbeat. He couldn't breathe, no, not couldn't. Didn't need to. Why would she lie? Suddenly, he couldn't think of anything else to ask her. His mind had gone blank. "You'll live here with me," she added. Oh, good. Just like a new pet. Who was this woman and who did she think she was?
"You did this to me, didn't you?" Damon asked her. He was beyond horror. He was a normal dude. He took his nephew to the park every other Sunday, met his friends at the game, he went to church on Easter and Christmas, called his Mom once a week, and paid his fucking taxes. These kinds of things didn't happen to people. Vampires were not real, unless it was Halloween or you were crazy. Hadn't they proven that vampires don't exist by now? There's got to be scientists or something somewhere. 
"Damon," she said, her voice soft all of a sudden. She must've seen in his eyes that his mind was unraveling. "The moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you."
"When did you see me?" He asked. How long had she watched him in the shadows before she made her move? "How long before?" He couldn't even finish because he didn't know what she'd done.
"None of that matters now," she said, but he interrupted her.
"How long?" He demanded, his fingers on both sides of his head, in a strange attempt to massage his temples although he didn't have a headache. He did feel, however, that a mental break down was eminent. 
"You don't remember." It wasn't a question. "Any of it."
She didn't continue. "Fuck, Lilith. How long?"
She paused and he thought she wasn't going to give him an answer but then she said quietly, "Earlier tonight. Some friends dropped you off. I'd been feeding and I saw you walking."
"Earlier," he repeated, and he couldn't help but feel humor tugging at his lips. "Earlier," he said again and shook his head, this time grinning as he looked at Lilith. Of all the gin joints, in all the world. . . He paused a moment. "So what happens now? You take my life away and now what am I supposed to do?" He was too tired to leave, to storm out, to get angry and yell in her face. Fuck, yell? Slap that smirk off, wring that skinny neck. He had a vision of her still and stony face, lifeless. But he'd always been passive aggressive, hadn't he? The hunger was growing more insistent. He wanted to ask for something to eat. It was right under his skin and he felt it nibbling at his consciousness. The bug.
"You'll live here with me," Lilith said again. "You'll be my companion."
He removed his hands from his face and looked at her. "You're lonely?" Her eyes were the color of autumn green apples. 
"Yes." She had done something to him, didn't she? She had some power.
"I'm hungry," Damon said. There was something about her that wouldn't allow him to be angry about what she'd done to him. In the back of his head he knew there was something wrong with that, but he couldn't focus on the thought. The fact was that it was out his control. All he could focus on was Lilith. And the voice telling him to eat. It didn't matter that she was leaving out chunks of the story, or the entire story itself. She hadn't told him anything, but he didn't care. He wanted a full belly and some sleep. Because if he didn't soon, he suspected his undead enchantment might have still been just temporary. 
Lilith nodded and stood up, and the whole world was suddenly gone. "I have food for you." She went into the kitchen leaving him shivering on the couch. She was back before he'd even turned his head to follow her out. He jumped when he saw the wine glass in his face. "Drink this."
Vampires drank blood. It slapped him across the face. That was what Lilith had been drinking. That was the smell he'd been following. Even the color seemed to awaken the bug, the way the light played in the surface. He looked at her again for reassurance because no matter what he had to do, he was desperate to rid himself of the hunger burning a hole in his belly. 
"This is what you'll live on," Lilith said. "You know that, don't you? Surely you've felt the hunger by now."
As soon as the blood touched his lips, Damon felt the wings of some great fiery beast envelop his body. The intense icy feeling in his core was gone. He was having a total Alice Down the Rabbit Hole moment; the liquid was gone, leaving him considering chomping glass in lieu of trying to lick every trace of pink film left of the glass. There was only the thick, pulsating metal taste in his mouth. He found, with his tongue, long incisors where his canines had been. Lilith hadn't lied. And for the first time since he'd woken up alone and feeling slightly decayed, his body felt half warm.
"You need to rest," she said.

Cannibals. The First Kill. New Underwear.

Panic set in again as soon as Damon tried to roll over. He wasn't in his apartment, he hadn't fallen asleep on his couch, and what was it that he had been trying to grab at? He wasn't sure, it was tight hold on his upper arm that cut off circulation, but when he tried to take it off he found he couldn't move. There was a sharp pain in his neck. It felt like a vice, a huge spider or tick, something biting him that wouldn't let up. His perception became clearer and he realized that he wasn't tied. Someone was on top of him, pinning him down. He tried to make a sound but he felt like his throat was paralyzed. According to the alarm clock with glowing red numbers, it was three in the morning. He moved his legs and the person holding him down was suddenly perfectly still. An animal. The massive furniture looked like guards standing watch, and when the figure lifted its head he knew exactly who it was, and he felt the fear down to the pit of his stomach.
 "What are you doing?" He asked. It sounded like a yell in the still room.
Lilith made no move towards him, and in the darkness where he couldn't clearly see her, she seemed embarrassed. Her hair was loose past her shoulders and her eyes glowed green. It wasn't just their color. They were illuminated, like a cat. "I was hungry," she breathed. 
He put his hand to his neck and felt wetness there. All at once, he was contemplating suicide, ways to end it all. It felt like his only way out. He moved as far away from her on the king sized bed as he could. It seemed unnatural that she would want to feed from him, like an animal eating its own young. "Isn't this like, cannibalistic?"
"Come here," she said. 
Damon hesitated, and then came to her, knowing that he had no other choice. Lilith leaned over and kissed him. As soon as he tasted the blood on her lips, he started drowning in her and wanted nothing more than to pierce her skin. He didn't know what made him change his mind so suddenly, or why he wanted to be on top her, this monster, the one who had killed him and even better, brought him back just for amusement. He kissed her harder, intent on bruising her lips, and her skin was cold when held her wrists, and when he lowered her onto the bed, her chest didn't rise and fall. Once the taste was gone from her mouth, he leaned over and bit her neck, releasing her life into his mouth. This is what she'd wanted all along. 
Lilith moaned softly and he rewarded her with a mouthful of cold blood that he pulled into his mouth until his cheeks were full, and that he swallowed hungrily. Feeding from her felt like sitting in the balustrade of the theatre in her mind. Damon saw how much she'd needed him. She'd wanted to end the loneliness for both of them, and here he was on top of her. Lilith was happy. He drank until he could see her walking alone on a dark bridge and she was afraid of the water, and it was snowing, and she was looking for him. When had this been? It was then that Lilith pushed him away and he had to let go and sit up because she was too strong for him. She easily held him back with one hand as she touched the wound he'd made on her neck, right above the artery that had no pulse.
With the sudden distance, Damon felt empty. "I need you," he said, and although he was sure he'd said this to other women, he'd never meant it before.
"There's a limit Damon," she said. She took her hand from her neck and replaced it with his. The mark had healed. Just as long as his hands were on her, everything was okay. "You don't want to hurt me, do you?" Damon just shook his head. "Lay here with me." Damon did as he was told, and Lilith put her head on the soft flesh of his stomach. He felt privileged to stroke her hair. "Will you stay with me?" She asked him, talking into his bellybutton, her breath tickling the hair above his zipper. Her nightgown had ridden up and he could see her entire thigh up until about the point where it started to curve.
"Yes," he said because he could never imagine being away from her.
She lifted her head, rolled over, and looked into his eyes. "You'll promise to never leave me?"
"Yes," he said, because all he could think about was having her head back on his stomach.
"You'll be my companion?" She sighed and put her head back down. Her hair felt soft on his skin.
What does she mean by companion? "Yes," he said because he felt like he could spend eternity with her in that room. 

Damon woke up again with urgency in his body. He rolled over and he could see through the open blinds that the sky was lightening and it was almost dawn. Lilith was already awake, looking at him. Scared, he met her eyes and felt like he wanted to crawl inside of her to avoid the light. Besides all of the legends that came into his mind, there was a reflex that told him that the sun equaled death. 
"Don't be afraid," she said. Then, his perception of her wavered and he couldn't see her as well. She was blurry, when nothing else in his vision was. "Listen to your instincts to cross over the veil. It'll protect you from the sun."
Damon wasn't sure where to start, but closed his eyes and concentrated on removing himself mentally from the sun. He felt something pulling him and he gave into it. For a split second he felt as if he was falling, but the world righted itself, and when he opened his eyes he no longer felt a panic at the impeding sun. It was like he was wearing sunglasses. 
"What just happened?" He asked her.
"It's the veil that separates us from the humans. It's only necessary during the day. In our sleep, our bodies do it for us. You're just nervous because you're not used to the sensation." She touched his face but he could not feel comforted with her hand on him. There was something he knew, but couldn't remember, that made him sure that hand was capable of violence.
So, not only were vampires a different species, they practically existed on two different plains. It was the kind of stuff that scientists studied. Different dimensions, different worlds. "Do we burn in the sun?"
"We catch on fire, yes."
Damon couldn't help but let his mouth hang open. "Have you ever seen it?"
There was a smile tugging on her lips, and she tucked her hands under her pillow, making herself more comfortable. "It's an incredible sight."
Damon shivered at the look in her eyes. Why couldn't he run? "It's like magic," he said.
"It's survival," She said. "It's just like breathing. How magical is that? Go back to sleep."
For a long time Damon couldn't relax. He was sleeping next to a Bengal tiger. She was beautiful, graceful, and strong. But, she had violence inside of her, and she wasn't telling him the truth about their relationship before his death. He had to remember, because she had too much control over him. He couldn't think straight when they were in the same room. He had to get a grip, he had to remember, and he had to leave.

When Damon woke up from a dreamless sleep, the sun was already gone from the sky. Lilith was curled into a ball next to him. He leaned over and inhaled her scent deeply. Food. She opened her eyes and smiled up. He'd never loved someone so quickly, so completely.
"Are you hungry?" She asked him. Damon nodded and then lay down, pressing his face against her neck. She stopped him when his fangs began to lengthen and pushed his head away. "Damon, that's not for every day. If we transfer too much blood back and forth it's liable to make us lose our minds." 
"What will I eat?" He asked. It was emasculating. 
"I'll take care of you," she said. She slid out of bed as graceful as any predator he'd ever seen. There it was again, the tiger inside of her.
Damon watched Lilith walk into the adjoining room, his mind wandering back to the image of her, half mad from fear, crossing the bridge in the rain. He'd been there, hadn't he? Lilith's voice interrupted his thoughts and he got up, walking into the doorway she'd disappeared through and found a formal dressing room about the size of his final apartment. It was funny. He'd never had so much finality before.
Lilith was already dressed in a low cut top, a short skirt, and knee-high boots, all black. Better to hide the blood stains. She was zipping up the boots in the chair placed in the center of the room. It looked like a department store, with no mirrors, and he wondered how she could ever find anything. It had to be catalogued. "We'll get you clothes tonight," she said without turning towards him.
"I want food." 
"First things first, then." She walked past him into the hallway, her heels clicking on the marble, the only thing that allowed him to follow her quick movements. He wondered what it would take to move like her. "Let's go hunting."

The first thing that struck Damon when he stepped outside was how loud it was. He wanted to put his hands over his ears but he didn't, mainly because he was afraid Lilith would laugh at him. She turned her head and gave him a smile that was private between the both of them, as if she knew how much her approval meant to him. Yes, he wanted her approval. He also wanted her love and affection, the truth, and control. He wanted it all. 
Lilith examined the buildings as they passed. She was deliberate. This was a nice part of town, but she was looking for something specific. "The hunting on the streets is easy enough, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. But, invading a human's space takes talent. Just like in legends, we have to be invited before we can enter a human's dwelling. It doesn't exactly have to be a verbal invitation, an implied invitation is enough for us to cross the threshold, but once that happens there's nothing they can do short of having a stake by their bed. The good news is those types are long gone." She turned and smiled at him. "Humans don't believe in us anymore." Damon wished he had. "This looks like a good place," she said, stopping in front of a sky-rise advertising floor to ceiling windows facing the park. Automatic glass doors welcomed visitors into what resembled the lobby of a hotel. Damon followed her in, wondering if finding the place had actually been intentional. He couldn't read her expression, but his gut feeling told him that she was a liar.
The doorman nodded his head at Lilith and didn't question them as they passed. Damon looked back to make sure that their presence hadn't aroused suspicion, but the doorman didn't seem to find anything wrong. He continued watching the door for monsters that weren't as well dressed. He knew it was a place she'd frequented; she rounded the corner past the convenience store that led to the elevator. She looked at home in the surroundings, which still paled in comparison to the penthouse that Lilith occupied. The view from her balcony had allowed him to see the river, a sight that had tugged at his consciousness, his brain wanting to remind him of something important, but the little bug in Damon's ear always overshadowed the urge with near obsession. Eat, eat, eat. 
In the elevator, Lilith leaned against the paneled interior said, "Pick a floor."
Damon shrugged. "Six."
Lilith hit the button and then slid her hands down the railing, towards him. She pressed her side against his and smirked. She was flirting. Damon pulled her towards him, expecting more weight and warmth with the embrace, but settling for the chilly lips against his earlobe. "It's exciting, isn't it? The first kill," she said. "The trick to manipulation is eye contact. If you master that, they'll do anything you want."
When the doors opened Damon didn't want to let her go, but his hunger overpowered everything. Lilith exited first and then stopped at the first apartment, pressing her ear against the door. "Still awake. Better to wake them while they're in bed. They're more likely to open the door with less suggestion." She moved on to the next door. "There are four in this one. Probably not best for your first time." He was a virgin again. She moved on to the next door. She seemed to be teasing him, and he wasn't sure if she was just making a show out of it. Damon wished he'd just been able to have another glass full. They'd be back at home in the quiet apartment, alone together. Lilith pressed her ear against the last door in the hallway, 65F. She smiled as she met his eyes. "Two humans. This is the one."
Damon moved forward, not knowing how they'd get a human to invite them in, but ready to eat anything that came into his path. Lilith smoothed down her hair and knocked on the door three times. "Get back," she said, practically pushing him with the look in her eyes. Damon waited out of sight next to the doorway and he could hear someone stomping down the hall and to the door. A moment later the door swung open a few inches and Damon could hear the security chain go taut. His heart sank a bit. His mother had one of those stupid chains that prevented anyone from pushing the door open when she answered it. It used to drive him crazy because he could never remember to unlatch it before he opened the door. What a random memory. Why couldn't he remember anything important? 
"I'm sorry to bother you," Lilith began, and Damon was impressed with the human act. She sounded completely normal and not at all like a predator. Damon was afraid to see her in action. "The electricity is out in my apartment and we'd really appreciate it if we could just use your phone to page the Super. He's not answering his door, and you know how hard he is to get a hold of." 
"Sure," Came a deep voice from inside the apartment. "No problem." Damon heard the door close and the chain being pulled open. It wouldn't have mattered what she said to him, men would do anything for a pretty girl. No, that was an insult. Lilith wasn't just pretty. She was the sun, moon and stars. The door opened wider and Lilith signaled for Damon to wait a moment behind the door. "I've got a phone in my bedroom," the man said, and Damon smirked. Did this guy think it was his lucky night? Was he going to wait until her back was turned, then press her up against the wall? Or better yet, slit her throat? Damon could imagine the blood splatter on the wall. Lilith glanced at him then, and he thought maybe she'd had the same idea. Vampire minds were disturbed. He was quickly coming to realize that. Suddenly he'd seen the worst potential, in everyone, everything. 
Lilith was smiling at the man again. "That'd be great. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it," she said as she followed the human into his home. 
Damon laughed to himself. Here was this guy thinking that he'd come into the best luck of his life, like his life had just turned into some porno flick, when he was really about to be breakfast for the scariest creature Damon had ever known. He stuck his head into the doorway. The living room was empty, but he could hear two distinct heartbeats. He couldn't see much, all the lights are off except for a huge hundred gallon fish tank behind the couch that illuminated ten or twelve angel fish of various sizes and colors. Where had he seen a fish tank like that before? Giselle. The name brought up another memory, of her standing outside of his door, she was crying, but he wouldn't let her in. He couldn't remember why, but she was upsetting him and it was raining outside, wasn't it? She was a pretty girl with blue eyes and a long slender neck. He thought maybe he'd have to stop by and visit her some time. Shit, if she wanted to see him so bad.
Damon followed one of the heartbeats into the kitchen and down a hallway. It was eerie creeping into someone's apartment. He could hear movement and smell Lilith in the opposite direction. So that left the other one for him. Something about this realization made him feel like the air in the room drop, the air still, and he half expected to see his breath in the air. It was like a poltergeist was creeping up behind him, this awaReneess that he'd never be normal again. He was a freak now, getting his kicks creeping into apartments after dark to violate people. But, try as he might, he couldn't feel bad about it. He felt dirty, but again, the hunger overpowered anything else he might be feeling. It was all consuming.
Damon stopped outside of the door and paused for a moment with his hand on the knob, not out of doubt or guilt, but to savor the moment, to picture it, to taste it. He let the door swing open and just stood in the doorway. It was a girl, a teenager. Her room smelled like sandalwood incense. He knew that because he'd known a girl who'd burned it, too. His mind briefly placed him there, and he could almost see the black light pictures and the girl; when he heard the bug again, right at his ear, as if Lilith had rested there. Damon fluidly crossed the room, feeling as if his silent body appeared, to a human, no more than a wisp of smoke. And when he sat next to her on the bed, he was nothing more than a shadow, covering her face and stealing the warmth from the air around her. She was a pretty girl, probably not even old enough to order a drink at a bar. Damon had always been a sucker for brunettes. Especially librarian looking ones, barely suppressing their latent sexuality. The young girl, lying amongst pink pillows and pictures of her friends and family, smelled clean, like discount bar soap. She looked soft, she looked warm. She looked delicious. 
Damon leaned in closer, afraid to wake her, but feeling his control slip. It was the thirst that made him lose it. It was the smile tugging on her lips. A split second was all it took.
He found himself moving faster than he'd ever thought possible. His fingers tore at her body and hair. There was a muffled gasp but she didn't have a chance to scream. He wouldn't have heard her anyway. He was beyond reason, beyond caring. All he was thinking was how warm she was. He wanted to drain every drop of her, having this irrational thought that he wanted to be inside of her, no, he wanted her inside of him. He wanted his body to radiate her warmth. He wanted to feel alive. And soon he was sitting there, drenched, blood on his mouth, on his face, in his hair. He didn't stop until her blood had stopped flowing. And the room was still of heartbeat and breath. 
Damon held her hand, and for the first time, wondered her name. His stomach had stretched to the limit, his body finding the need to let the last mouthful spill to the carpet, his body gorged, a tick too bloated to move. So he sat there, against the bed on the far side of the room, staring out of the open window at the moon, holding her hand and wondering her name. He didn't remember how they'd fallen on the floor. He could hear Lilith walking down the hallway. He was still linked to her, he knew, and wondered why he hadn't been able to see the girl's thoughts. He probably hadn't bothered to look. Lilith didn't speak when she reached the doorway, and Damon closed his eyes to avoid being blinded when her hand reached for the light switch. He felt it turn on, but neither moved and Damon could feel her shock.
When she didn't speak, Damon opened his eyes to survey the damage. When he did, all he could see was red. He didn't even know what color the wall in front of him had been. Even the glass of the window was stained red and he wondered how he'd been able to look out at the moon in the first place, and why it hadn't unnerved him that the moon had appeared red. The fingertips he was stroking were no longer attached to a body. It was no longer her, she was an it. He pushed the body part onto the sopping wet carpet that squelched under his feet when he rose. It was black. 
"Certainly had a field day, didn't you?" She said finally. He couldn't tell if she was pleased, or horrified.
Damon tried to move away from all of the blood that was now colder than ice, but slipped and fell back and came in contact with the still warm 'it.' He couldn't help but think that she'd been pretty once.
It all came up. Damon didn't remember the last time he'd thrown up when he was alive, but being dead and throwing up blood was horrible. And vampire bile was snot green. Damon doubled over and during a pause between heaving, heard a heavy sigh from Lilith.
"Such a waste," she said. "And after having so much fun." Damon had never felt so ashamed. He wiped the blood from his mouth and stood, doing his best not to look at 'it' as he tracked the blood through the room and down the hallway. "Let's go," Lilith said as she led him back into the living room, "You don't want to be here when the father finds her. I don't think it'll be a pretty scene."
Damon was still clutching his stomach and trying to keep the rest of his dinner down. "He's alive?" He asked as he wet a paper towel in the kitchen to wipe the pink stains from the skin that was exposed. Mercy?
"Yes," She said, and then looked for a reaction. Her remarkable, almost olive colored sparkling eyes were hopeful.
Damon controlled another heave, and took a few steps to the door. "Kill him." It was strange hearing the words coming from his mouth.
"What?" 
"Kill him," He said again in a normal speaking voice, trying his best to keep it from shaking.
Lilith stared at him, her hands on her hips, but Damon wasn't going to stop and have a discussion about it, and he walked out right out of the apartment. He only paused outside of the front door long enough to hear Lilith go back into the man's room and end his life with a dull snap. 
When Lilith found him, Damon was outside in an alley still breathing heavily, clutching his stomach, bent over and heaving in the rain. Damon had taken off his shirt and thrown it on the ground, disgusted with the feeling of the blood but also feeling like he was back in that room and everything had started all over. He was that scared creature again with no idea what to expect, no idea what had happened to him, and well, he was still that man. And he was still covered in blood despite having thrown off the moist shirt. The rain was beginning to wash it away. It made him feel better to have something touching his skin that he didn't want to destroy. He heard Lilith, and when he lifted his head she was there in front of him. She put her hands on his chest, lifting him up straighter and forcing him to ignore the cramps in his stomach. He thought that she was going to kiss him, but her lips went down close to his neck and for the first time since he died, he felt aroused.
"You tell me what to do again, and I'll be using your fingers as toothpicks." Her voice so cold against his neck made him shake uncontrollably. The Tiger had been revealed. He had to fight to keep his teeth from chattering in his mouth. When he met her eyes he saw that she was serious. She'd kill him before she ever took his instruction again. 
Lilith paused, glanced away, her eyes for a second flashing yellow. "You need new clothes," she said then, and the menace was gone. She just looked bored. Her eyes rose and she cocked her head. "Yes?" 
"Where are we going to get clothes this late?" His previous experiences in shopping took place in the mall, which wasn't open in the middle of the night.
"No, Damon I don't think I'll take you to the mall," Lilith said, as she started walking off. "Ever." she added, glancing back to make sure that he hadn't grown a brain, no doubt. "There's a place where we can get you a more suitable attire for your new social class." She hung back, hooked his arm around her and whispered. "You've reached the upper class."
Damon smirked to himself at his.
Without any kind of warning, Lilith slipped down the next alley and Damon had to back track and follow, reveling in her flirting. He caught up as she knocked on a door with no handle. This was how she'd picked the location where they'd fed. Did she plan every aspect of her life? There was a brief movement inside, then a pause. The door swung open but there was no one on the other side. The air was thick and sweet smelling like incense, making Damon think it was some kind of holistic healing place, but when he walked through the threshold, he saw it was more of a designer outlet. The walls were gray slate and stark, the racks bare, and no mannequins. Classy place, where's the music? He looked around. Welcome to The Jungle.
Lilith walked straight to the men's rack. Damon knew what it reminded him of. In college he'd shadowed a producer that was supervising a music video. It was back when he was a student, when he was interning for all these guys in the recording industry. Shit, they were willing to meet with you then, order you around, but once you were out of school they didn't return phone calls. They weren't going to pay for what they could get for free. Damon brought himself back to Lilith and the sound of her scraping the hangers as she looked through the rack. He'd let her decide. The racks reminded him of the wardrobe racks the designers had for the talent. It was the little things that brought the memories back.
"Lilith," cried someone behind them. "How nice to see you again." He turned to find a short fat vampire walking in. She reminded Damon of his Aunt Edna. Well, he wasn't exactly sure if he had an Aunt Edna, it sort of sounded like something he'd seen on TV. But if he'd had one, that's what she'd look like. 
"You never forget the ones with money, do you, Fontine?" Lilith said looking up. It was a relief for Damon to see that he wasn't the only one that she talked to that way.
Fontine didn't seem to notice her tone of voice. "We have some new styles that I'd love to show you. Direct from Europe."
Lilith visibly winced.
Damon wondered how it was possible to be a fat vampire when their diets consisted of nothing more than blood. How much did she drink in a day? Was she lacking exercise in the afterlife? He had to look up at the ceiling to avoid cracking a smile. He needed to practice his stoic vampire face. 
Lilith gave Fontine a look that seemed to imply that she should've known better. "I'm not shopping for myself tonight. I need something for him."
It seemed as if Fontine suddenly realized Damon was someone worth acknowledging. He wondered how many other men Lilith had toted around with her before she'd found him. "Hello, sir. Very nice to meet you. I'm Fontine, clothier of royalty in the afterlife."
Lilith rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Fontine, there is a line between love of your station, and total and absolute madness. Please do not cross it."
Lilith held her eyes until Fontine's worried eyes fixed on Damon's. The woman, barely up to Damon's shoulders, looked like a cartoon animal searching for reprieve. "And your name, sir?" Addressing him as someone important despite his seemingly derelict appearance. If you asked Lilith. The Queen. 
Damon opened his mouth to answer but Lilith turned and interrupted. "His name doesn't matter," she said as she pulled a black shirt off of the rack. "What matters is that I'm paying. And I want him dressed properly. Show me what you have." Fontine nodded. Conversation ended. It seemed his presence mattered, but his identity didn't. So much for social pleasantries. "Try this on," Lilith said as she pressed a hanger into Damon's chest. 
He looked down at it. A black shirt, sheer, form fitting. He looked at Lilith and shook his head. "It's too small."
She didn't even acknowledge his comment, didn't flutter an eyelash. How he'd love to rip that face off. "Try it on," she said. There was no anger, no emotion, just plain, simple instruction. How do you argue with that?
Damon took the hanger and looked at the shirt again. It wasn't that he was out of shape so much as just naturally lean. He'd never had any desire to dress like some kind of Calvin Klein model, and weren't they mostly gay anyway? Damon didn't want any metrosexual, homosexual, or any kind of sexual wear. He wanted T-shirts and jeans, preferably his own. If only he could remember where it was that he'd lived. He suspected that although Lilith claimed to find him by chance, she might know where Damon had laid his human head. Could there be anything that Lilith didn't know? 
 "I have clothes at my apartment," he said. Home. "How about we go by there? I'd like to be comfortable."
Lilith held back a laugh, glanced at Fontine, who looked amused herself, then looked at Damon again. "I don't think so, Damon. And I didn't bring you here to argue with me. So, please just put the fucking shirt on."
She said with such fake sweetness, and total absence of malice. If Damon hadn't known better he'd think she was joking. But Damon had seen inside her head and he knew that when it came down to it, Lilith was not someone who joked. At all. Damon nodded and looked at the shirt again. There was no price tag on it. He slid it off the hanger and put his arms through the holes. He liked the way the material felt on his skin. It was soft, and very flexible.
Lilith smiled. "Much better," she said. "But those crusty, bloody jeans. They have to go. Take them off." It took Damon a second to realize that she meant immediately. He looked at Fontine to see if there was any alarm in her face, but she was looking at him well below the waist and seemed excited. Great, all he needed was an audience. He didn't see why he might not be wearing underwear, but it was his biggest fear as he unlinked his belt. Lilith's laugh began at about the time that his pants reached his ankles. "Fontine, do you still stock underwear?"

-

The clothes would be delivered, she'd said, although Damon didn't know when or by whom. Maybe some assholes in black. Shit, and he'd always thought that they'd worked for the government. He was just glad that it was over. With no intention of ever going clothes shopping with Lilith again. He'd rather cut off his own fucking head. He'd rather starve. That was probably more of a meaningful statement. 
Damon was glad to inhale the night air, not because he needed or wanted to, but because he was letting out a sigh of relief. Lilith glanced at him. "What's with the attitude?"
"I'm not a doll, or some kind of pet." Damon said.
Lilith just looked at him for a moment then laughed and shook her head. Everything about the look told him he was silly for thinking that she'd wanted to make him feel inferior. "Jesus, Damon," she said, and started walking down the alley to the street. He followed. "You're slow on the uptake, aren't you?" Damon reached out then and didn't know why he was so stupid to touch her without her permission, but his rage was building and he was becoming less afraid. He pulled her arm until she stopped and turned around. He thought he'd yell at her then, scream in her face, but a sudden panic took him over and he just stood there. "How long will it take you to realize that you are what I tell you, you are?" He'd never hurt a woman, never so much as thought about touching a woman in anger, but there he was, about to bring Lilith to her knees. Her hands were faster than he'd ever thought possible, and Lilith took him right there in the alley, within plain sight from the street and with such force that his blood hit the pavement before he did.

943. Noelle.

Damon woke up in Lilith's king-sized bed. He didn't remember how he'd gotten home or changed clothes, or even how his new wardrobe had been delivered so quickly. The label on his pajama pants said Prada. He was alone but could hear Lilith's heels echoing through the apartment. He didn't know why the sound relieved him. He'd hated her last night, he'd been completely humiliated, but now he didn't care, and he didn't feel any anger, he just wanted to see her. 
Damon found Lilith leaning over some papers laid out on the side table against the wall in the living room. He walked up behind her and put his hands around her waist.
"What are you doing?" He asked, breathing into her ear. 
"Trying to get some work done."
"You work?" 
Lilith turned around and Damon's arms slackened. "Yes, I work."
"Oh," he said, and pulled her closer. "What do you do?" Lilith didn't answer his question, but pushed him back a few steps when his fangs began to lengthen across her neck. It wasn't his fault. He craved her. "What's the matter?" 
"I fed from you when I woke up. You can't just expect to rely on me to live. I told you that last night." Damon put his hand on his neck, but didn't feel any pain or remember the feeding. "I have to go," she said. She picked up a black folio from the desk and walked past him towards the door.
"Where are you going?" He felt like she was abandoning him. There was panic in his chest. He felt it rising from the little demons in his belly.
She gave him a blank look. "I told you. I have work to do."
"When will you be back?" He felt his stress level rising and pushed his hair back. 
Lilith's eyes didn't waver. "Why are you so concerned?" She acted as if she didn't know she was his everything. He wished it wasn't true. 
"What am I supposed to eat?" It was a constant nag in the back of his head.
"I don't know." She shrugged again and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. She was doing the 'God give me strength' look, but for some reason Damon didn't think that Lilith was on God's nice list. "Practice hunting. Lord knows you need to learn a little restraint and control." She started walking to the door.
"Can't I just come with you?" 
She stopped with her hand on the knob. "No." She said this so seriously that for a second Damon thought that she must've been joking. Then, her cell phone rang. "Stay close. Don't speak to anyone. If you do, don't mention my name."
Lilith opened the front door and then turned around. "Just try to stay out of trouble." She pulled her phone out of an expensive looking leather bag, and left the apartment without another word to him.
The apartment felt like a tomb. It was a cold and dim and all of the furniture, although very plush and expensive, looked like it had never been touched, used, even closely looked at. They were just there for show, and it bothered him. He couldn't stay there. There was nothing for him. 
Damon walked into Lilith's dressing room. He saw that she'd cleaned out a small space for him sometime during the previous night. The clothes were hung neatly in a long black row, with the black pants and shirt she'd picked out for him facing forward, two telling pairs of men's shoes, black, were along the wall. The other side contained hundreds of neatly hung shadows. He went to that side instead, and ran his hand down the row of shirts and stopped at the last one because instead of being black like all of the others, it was the green shirt she'd been wearing when he met her. It was something else that made him linger on it. It reminded him of something and he couldn't shake the feeling. He pulled it off the hanger and held it for a moment, not even looking at it, looking at the wall because something was coming back. The green, it was the same color as the numbers on the door of his old apartment. What were they? He could see them just as he was going in. 943. And all of a sudden he knew, he remembered exactly where he'd lived. In Highwood apartments on Downing Street, the ninth floor apartment 943. He dropped the green shirt right where he stood and grabbed the first shirt and pants he saw on his rack. 
Damon took the stairs, not wanting to run into Lilith, in case she'd lingered or waited for a car. He didn't want her to know that he was going back to pick up some personal things. He figured he'd go back there, pack a bag or something, and grab his Playstation and some games. He didn't want his expensive stuff thrown away once they cleaned out his apartment when he was finally evicted. It was more sentimental than anything, more just because he could, just because he had nothing better to do. 
It turned out he wasn't that far from his old place, just maybe a twenty minute walk through the city streets, to the few blocks that separate the rich section from the ghetto. It was only eleven, early for a vampire but not too late in the evening to be knocking at the superintendent's door for an extra key. As soon as he'd walked in the door, he'd remembered that he didn't have any ID, any money, keys, anything that certified him as alive. But one step in the front door and he remembered who lived in that first apartment right passed the mailboxes. 
Mr. Grasso opened the door with a frown on his face. "What do you want?" He had a tone that implied that Damon had been pounding on his door for over an hour. 
"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Grasso but I lost my keys."
The old prick squinted his eyes. "Didn't you just come by here like, two weeks ago?"
Damon remembered, but it hadn't been two weeks ago, it more like two months ago. He'd been mugged by some punks when he was leaving the studio. Everyone else in the building had gone home, which wasn't unusual because the real work of editing was solitary. Damon loved the job but it hadn't left much time for socializing, dating, or seeing the sun. He'd had a pretty good set up going, the boss was letting him take care of this entire album, was trusting him to make this sixteen year old blonde girl, who seriously needed some singing lessons, sound like Whitney Houston. Things had gotten rocky after he'd been sent home after embarrassing the boss by mistaking one of the new talents as a janitor. It was a simple mistake. Damon had been a jackass, he had admitted it. This guy had come in with dirty old jeans, holes in his T-shirt and a book bag over his shoulder, and Damon told him that next time he took out the trash, not to leave it so close to the back door because he'd stepped in a huge pile of nasty when he went out to have a smoke.
 "Yeah, I know," Damon said. "But I was mugged though, Mr. Grasso. That's kind of different, don't you think?"
The middle aged greasy man squinted at him harder and didn't move from the doorway to fetch the key. "You're sure you're okay, kid? You don't look too hot. Those kids messed you up pretty bad, huh?"
Damon tried his best to look relaxed, and alive. "I'm all right, except I need to get in my place because I got to be up for work tomorrow. I don't want to be late."
Mr. Grasso understood. He nodded and leaned over a drawer right by the door. No work meant no rent, and no rent meant Mr. Grasso couldn't afford hookers. Damon knew what they did down there. He lived right above the old man. He'd learned to sleep with the radio on so that he wouldn't be woken up in the middle of the night by slapping noises. It was kind of weird. Now that he remembered this, he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Damon was handed the key with a warning to get some sleep because he looked like the walking dead.
Damon laughed out loud as soon as the door closed. If Mr. Grasso heard it, he ignored it. The walking dead. He'd heard that saying hundreds of times, hilarious how it meant so much now. Damon was still grinning when he arrived at his apartment and unlocked the door. He let it swing open and then stood there in shock. There was trash all over the floor and empty food containers lying all around. He realized that he was still in the hallway. Not wanting to seem as if anything was out of the ordinary, he stepped in and closed the door behind him. The mirror in the entryway was shattered on the floor. It crunched under his foot as he walked into the living room. The TV was still on. It was the news and the sound was off. The ashtray was filled with his brand of cigarettes, and his stomach dropped when he saw the syringe lying next to it, right there on the coffee table. He knew it couldn't have been him; he had an obsession with getting the evidence out of sight as soon as he was done.
There were empty sandwich bags on the floor, wax paper, a lighter, a rusty old spoon on the carpet. Damon stood there and felt sick. He was also itchy all of a sudden. Nerves. Someone had been sleeping on the couch; there were sheets wadded up in a ball and it smelled horrible, like shut-ins, invalids. He knew who'd been there, no question about it, who'd been invading his apartment while he'd been gone. Giselle. The key. She must have still had it. Is it a surprise? She'd always been more indulgent. It was one thing when they were together, and it was no big deal, but she'd raided his party closet and gone fucking insane waiting for him to come home. And now that he was there, he wondered why he'd even bothered to come back in the first place. Everything looked so trashed compared to Lilith's furniture, and he still owed another year's worth of payments on his leather couch set that now had junkie crust on it. He scratched the inside of his arm as he walked through the room and wondered why he'd ever put so much emphasis on anything material. He wished he'd realized how temporary this place was. It was disgusting, the drugs. The way they'd lived. 
There were gnats flying around his face when he opened the door to his bedroom. She'd been there too. Clothes were draped everywhere, his sheets were on the floor, and the blinds were barely hanging on to the windows. Now that he was there, he had no desire to take anything with him, not the Playstation or the games he'd spent a small fortune on. No DVD's. What did he need movies for? His life was a fucking movie. He left his favorite books, as well as his guitar that was signed by the Prince of Darkness himself, Ozzy Osbourne. It was now lying on top of a pile of dirty laundry, tossed there carelessly. That bitch. God, why was he so itchy? Now the back of his neck was driving him crazy. The filth was giving him a rash. He needed to get out of there. He walked back to the door. He didn't want to see anymore, and he didn't want to have to rip Giselle's head off if she happened to walk in the door, if she were that unlucky. 
There were a pack of cigarettes and his favorite lighter on the side table in the hallway. He picked up the lighter. It was silver, big and bulky, with a black rose engraved in it. It was the kind that had a flip top and had to be buffed with the bottom of your shirt to remove the fingerprints. Giselle had always wanted it, and he wondered why it was still there. He flipped the top, lit it, and it was like a torch, with a blue flame in the center. He flipped it shut with a click that felt satisfying, and only succeeding in bringing back more pointless memories of the living. He opened it again and had an overwhelming urge to set the entire apartment building on fire. Then Giselle wouldn't have anything left of his to ruin. Not that it mattered. Instead he put the lighter in his pocket and made his way to the door. He didn't want any of that shit anyway. It was funny, he thought in the back of his mind, as he passed by the pack of cigarettes. It took death to finally break the addiction.
Damon reached down to scratch his inner thigh, and when he straightened up, saw the framed picture of his mother that was still hanging on the back of the front door. It was a Glamour Shots makeover package he'd bought her for Christmas one year. Her hair was teased and her smile was big and forced, but he loved it. As a housewarming present, she'd hung it there and told him never to take it down. She's said it would keep him from doing anything stupid since she'd be the last thing he saw before he set out into the world. For the first time, he wished that he didn't remember anything.
He'd done plenty of stupid things since she'd put the picture there, but what it really had done was remind him every time he went to work, why he was trying to make it. So his Mom wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life in that stupid ass little trailer they'd had to move into once his father had died. She deserved better than that. She was a real lady, and she loved him more than anything. Damon swallowed hard. He guessed that it was too late for all of that now. It wasn't his life anymore. Still, he took the frame off the hook and peeled the backing off. He placed the frame and glass on the side table and slipped the picture into his back pocket without another thought.
While he was locking the door behind him, why, he didn't know, the door next to his opened and his neighbor Jasmine peeked her head out. 
"Hey, Damon. What are you up to tonight?" She asked, leaning out of the doorway.
He shrugged and tried the handle to make sure it was locked. "Just passing through." He could hear her heart pounding through her skin. He was starving. 
"I was just going out to pick up some take out. A friend of mine is coming over and we're going to watch a movie. Do you want to join us?" 
Damon had been waiting for this invitation since she'd moved in a few months before. He'd sit in his apartment and think of things to talk about if they happened to catch the elevator together. It was dumb, but he'd been lonely after Giselle moved out, and he needed some female companionship. Damon smiled for a moment but then thought better of it. She was a nice girl and his thoughts went back to the mess he'd created the night before and suddenly he felt sick and not hungry, not at all. "I'd love to Jasmine, but I already have plans tonight."
She shrugged and smiled. Damon felt the tension gone. "Alright, well I guess I'll see you next time," she said and went back into her apartment. She'd come out just to ask him that, and he was pleased. What a shame that his human conscience still lingered.

 
When Damon woke up the next night Lilith's side of the bed was perfectly made, and her smell was nowhere on the sheets. His stomach sank. He'd wanted to have a taste. Her blood was running low in him; he'd somehow picked up on the feelings. She didn't occupy all of his thoughts, and things were coming back to him more rapidly. So, he guessed it was better that she wasn't home because he was able to sneak off without having to answer any questions. He had some questions of his own, such as, what was so all consuming that she didn't have time for a man that she'd made for herself? 
Damon dressed quickly and went to another place that he'd recently remembered as his nightly haunt, the studio. He wondered who was taking over his project. He was sure by now he'd have twenty messages from the boss on his answering machine, asking him where he was. He should've checked, not that it mattered. It was just that although he'd been in major trouble and put on suspension for a week, Damon was the best they had, hands down, and he knew they'd come crying back, as soon as they had any problems. Damon may have been a nerd and a user, but he was good at what he did. It was a five minute walk to the studio once he'd reached his old apartment building. He had no desire to go back up. The location had been planned for a reason. College dorms behind him, he was ready to get out in the world, and before he'd even talked to the owner about needing help, Damon had planned his future and set his sites on the best studio in the city.
There were only a handful of cars in the parking garage when Damon arrived. He went to the emergency fire door and pulled it open easily. No humans lived in the building, so he wouldn't need to be invited, but he was also at an advantage because he knew Leslie and Rob always left a brick lodged in the door so they didn't have to smoke out front. There was some ordinance that said you couldn't smoke within 100 feet of the building, so there was a patio table on the top floor of the garage. Damon slipped inside and walked down the dim hallway. Most people had gone home but he could still smell the remains from lunches. People practically lived there when deadlines were coming up. He kept to the shadows and walked soundlessly, his quick movements and light step natural to his new body. He liked it. He was becoming more of a predator, fitting more into his role in the afterlife. He heard a few murmuring voices at the end of the hall where the main lab was, and he approached quickly to catch snippets of conversation. The door was closed, so he couldn't see well. 
"I told you not to trust him that fucking loser. I told you he was unprofessional. And where is he now? God knows where, and with my tracks. How are we supposed to release this album in a week if we don't have half the tracks? I'll tell you again, do what you have to do to track him down." He recognized the voice, the boss's daughter, Noelle. What did she expect? She'd chased him out of there, he wasn't going to leave those fucking tracks behind, not with all the time he'd put into it, all the hours spent staring at that fucking monitor. For what? To be run out for an honest mistake?
"The tracks are fine and Damon's not missing. I bet he's working on the tracks in his studio at home, despite the fact that you publicly humiliated him. Do you think he wants to ruin his career?" This was Markus. He'd been helping Damon out on the other half of the album. He was a good guy and he owed Damon a favor for helping him on what had eventually become a Billboard Award winning album. He was right. The tracks were on Damon's computer at home. They were nearly finished, but now Damon hoped now that no one ever found them. Let her try and pull that off. There was a sigh from Markus. "Look, just give it another couple of days. I'll keep calling. I'll go by his place. I know Damon. He's not going to just up and disappear. You guys may've had a falling out, but he knows where his priorities are."
Damon heard Noelle take a step, and ducked into a smaller lab to avoid being seen. She passed by in a cloud of expensive perfume. His urge was to reach out and grab her, but he knew there'd be trouble if Markus decided to turn around. One human was no problem, but he'd never tackled two. Once he'd heard the back door close, he took a step out and saw Markus sitting with his head down. His heart was beating fast. Damon was tempted to put him out of his misery, but then had a better idea. The bitch had to die. Wasn't it the working man's fantasy to take down the dreadful management? A murder in the workplace, how tragic it would be in the morning. He hurried down the hallway to catch up with her, and wondered if Markus was aware of the sound. But it was dim even to his own ears, and Damon imagined that he appeared as nothing more than a shadow. He let the door slam shut though, to wake Markus up, and to startle Noelle enough that she paused in the parking lot and spun around. Damon was a movement in the corner of her eye as he ducked behind the nearest car, then across the parking lot until he was beside her gold Lexus. 
Noelle's heart started beating quicker, and she turned to walk to her car again. He could see her eyes were wider as she started walking again. Her heels dug loudly on the concrete and Damon couldn't wait until she got close enough for him to grab her. He inched closer to the back of the car as she leaned over to put her key in the lock. Then, he whipped around and grabbed her waist, putting his other hand over her mouth. He thought her heart would explode with how fast it was beating. He didn't bother turning her around so that she could see who it was that would end her life. He just bent her over the hood and sank his teeth into her neck. He couldn't help get aroused while she was struggling against him, straining to push away the car, and he paused, realizing that he was actually considering raping the girl. He was becoming an animal. That's how she'd seen it, it was all there, in her blood. She thought he was raping her. 
Damon paused for a moment and withdrew his teeth. The blood continued pouring out from the wound and down the hood of the car. So much for the mint paint job. She was barely breathing now but for some reason, Damon couldn't continue feeding. He couldn't stand being in her mind. He liked the ones who were confused better, the ones who had no idea what was going on. He continued holding her head down against the hood of the car, although there was no threat of her running. He was getting in too deep now, when he hadn't completely realized his strength. He could do anything he wanted with Noelle. Damon clamped his hands around her neck, and squeezed, loving the feel of her blood between his fingers. He was in control now. She had no power, she was nothing.  

Ride Along.

 Damon opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. He wished he was dead. Not half-assed dead, like he'd become; he wanted after life dead. Fire and brimstone. Clouds. Somebody bury this body. Lilith's body shifted against his, and when he moved his head to the side, his chin rested on the top of her head. She fit so perfectly in his side that he hadn't even known she was there until she'd moved. 
"Good morning," he said.
She smiled, and uncurled like his Mom's favorite cat. She yawned. Damon couldn't believe how normal she looked lying there. "Good evening, Damon." His name sounded natural to her voice. He was convinced that she did love him. 
"Where were you last night?" He tried to keep the accusing tone out of his voice because he wasn't sure what there was to be jealous of, other than her time. 
Her groan was like a purr on his side. "You don't even want to know."
Oh, yes there was the anger. "Where were you?"
"Jesus, Damon. You don't beat around the fucking bush, do you?" Lilith said, sitting upright. She was a quick one. Damon was barely able to follow her movements.  
"Lilith, what's going on?"
Lilith stood up and Damon felt an urge to grab at her nightgown but resisted. "Damon, you have no idea how important my work is."
"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while you're doing your important work?" Deja vue. All relationships were the same.
"What I do will ensure the survival of our species." 
Damon would rather die then continue this afterlife. "Is this what I should expect?"
Lilith moved her hair off of her shoulders. That neck was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get. "Are you hungry?"
Damon didn't want to give up his argument, but the pale skin was too much for him to handle. How do you say no to that little monster? If he looked closely he could see her veins just below the surface. Damon crawled to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her and bit into her neck. It was incredible how easily his teeth found the familiar indentations. Her cold blood filled his mouth and he was lost inside of her. He saw that she was in a position of power, not just in their relationship but in every faucet of her life. She prided herself in that. After a few moments of drinking, Lilith managed to loosen his grip and push him away. 
"I have to go," she said, her voice harsh as if they'd just finished having sex. It was his most favorite tone of voice to date.
"Where were you last night?" He asked again, not knowing why because his only interest was to fall back asleep with her next to him.
"I was working. I told you." 
Damon closed his eyes. "You didn't come home last night." He felt her hair against his arm. 
"I came home," she said, "I was here."

When he woke up again, he was alone. Her promises didn't last long. But his anxiety subsided when he heard her heels clacking along across the apartment. He walked to the door, pausing for a moment to picture her location by the sound of her slowing steps, a neat trick. He saw her approaching the entryway to the kitchen, and he pulled the door open, running across the room and barreling directly into Lilith, knocking her against the kitchen counter. He landed on top of her.
 She seemed to be stunned for a moment. "Jackass." Damon couldn't hold in the laugher. "What is wrong with you?"
Damon got off of her and sat against the kitchen cabinet. "Did I hurt you?" If they'd been humans, Lilith would've broken a leg. All Damon had really wanted to do was test a theory. He hadn't even considered that Lilith would really get hurt.
"No, you didn't hurt me," she yelled, "you asshole." 
Lilith stood up and fixed her skirt. He looked straight ahead and thought about what he could easily do if he could just reach out and touch her. God, was he still thinking human thoughts? She saw where he was looking and turned back towards the kitchen. 
"No," she said. 
He held out his hand to her. "Where are you going?"
"Damon, I was getting a drink. Have you lost your damn mind?" She was angry and Damon was well aware that he'd better watch what he said. 
"I've missed you, that's what's gotten into me." The tone surprised him. He stood up. 
Lilith shook her head and looked over his head, off into space, way beyond that apartment. "Damon, you don't want to know what I do. It's a dangerous world, our society, and it's not something that you want to be involved in. You're safer in the house."
"Lilith," Damon said as he stood up and looked into her eyes, "I want to know."
She met his eyes. "I don't care what you want."
This made him pause. What could he say to that? He pushed back his hair, regrouped, turned his head away, and tried to fight back the rage. "What exactly am I to you?" He asked. This was the question. It's what had been nagging him since he'd met her. What was his purpose?
Lilith shrugged. "I don't know. You're here to keep me company. This is a big house and I don't like it when it's empty."
He struggled to make sense of her. Here was a woman who believed that everything on the earth was put there for her to manipulate, to acquire, and completely for her own pleasure. "I'm a pet to you."
"Yeah," she said and shrugged as she walked to the bottle warmer on the counter that looked like a black electric egg carton for square shaped eggs. She picked up one of the bottles that were filled to the top. "You can say that. It's probably the most accurate description. Although, I don't know if it can be considered a pet/owner relationship if you're both the same species."
Damon stared, trying his best to keep his mouth closed but failed and let his chin drop. He ran his hands through his hair and closed his mouth. "I was joking, Lilith."
"Were you?" She took a long swig of the bottle and Damon was suddenly starving. He walked over and put a hand on one of the bottles. Lilith followed his movement and clamped her hand over his before he could even get it out of the warmer. "Didn't you just eat?" When he didn't reply because he was trying to figure out whether or not she was serious, she said, "Just watch it." She patted his stomach. "You don't want to let yourself go."
Damon didn't realize what he was doing until he'd pulled away from the counter and held her by both arms and wanted to scream in her face, but remembered she was a woman, looked like one anyway, and controlled his tone, forcing out a thick scratchy voice. "Who do think you are?" Damon was no tyrant, but he was an adult, and he wasn't going to be treated like a child in his own home.
There was a flash like a picture being taken, and then Damon was against the wall with his arms crossing in front of him and Lilith was holding him down so hard that he thought the bones would give before she did. "I'm your everything," She said in a voice so soft that Damon almost thought that it was inside of his head. "How do I know this? Because I made you." He could see the overhead light playing on her fangs. "That's the way things are, and that's the way they always will be." Damon fell to his knees, not because he was weak, or hurt, or faint, but because she was there and then she suddenly wasn't. She'd done it on purpose, but it didn't surprise him. He couldn't feel anything but empty. She was right. He was nothing. Lilith looked down at him for a moment then shook her head. "It's not a matter of how I talk to you. The real question is why you let me do it, isn't it?" He looked up and met her eyes and he saw every single nightmare he'd ever had, all rolled into one. This was real, this was his life. Damon looked away. "Get up," she said and walked out of the kitchen. 
Damon stood up and walked into the entryway of the living room. "I'm leaving."
Lilith didn't turn around from the side table. She had papers piled there. "Fine. Have a nice afterlife."
Damon didn't move. Where did he think he was going to go? His old apartment? To kill Giselle, then what? Lilith brought him into this world and he had no purpose without her. God, he hated how she knew that. But shit, she knew everything. He walked over to her and stood there at her shoulder until she turned to him and crossed her arms. She was challenging him. "Look," he said, throwing his hands up, "What do I have to do?"
"That's a good start." She turned her head and looked down at her paperwork. "I'll allow you to ride along with me tonight if you'd like." 
Damon held back the smile. He was too old to show that kind of excitement. "Where are we going?"
"Questions, questions, all these fucking questions," Lilith said, "Jesus, Damon
can't you just shut up?"
He wished she'd left before he'd woken up. "Look, if this is how it's going to be tonight, I think I'll just sit this one out."
But, she was giving him a look. Not a bad one, a thoughtful one. "No, I think you could use a bit more of an education. Get dressed."
Damon did as he was told and put on black Armani dress pants and a black shirt. Lilith came into the bedroom to change out of her eggplant colored silk nightgown and paused in the doorway. He knew he must've looked good, as classy as she'd intended to be. "You're not regretting making me, are you?" He asked her, as if she'd wished him out of thin air, or if he'd been made for her like Adam and Eve. 
"Not for a second," she said as she walked past him into the dressing room. He didn't know if she meant it, but when he sat on the bed and she lifted the nightgown over her head he could've made love to her right there on the floor. For some reason, he didn't think he'd be able to get it up. No, he knew the reason. It was fear.
When she was dressed in black pants, probably some designer brand he'd never heard of, black stiletto heels, and a sleeveless black turtleneck, she collected her bag and called out to him. "It's about time we get going. I suspect our driver is already out front."
"How do you pay for all this?" Damon asked as Lilith closed the door of the apartment behind them. She continued without locking it. "From your work?" 
"My work pays in accomplishment and power." The elevator door opened and they entered. Lilith pressed the button for the lobby.
 "Okay, so where does all this money come from?"
She was smiling. "Damon, when you've lived a long time and have lawyers who don't ask any questions, you can get away with pretty much anything. I was wealthy long before I came into this world." She acted as if she'd never been human. She acts as if she were born into this legacy.
Lilith managed to pull the door handle herself. She let Damon enter first and he settled into the seat behind the driver, facing her. How had he gotten there? His old life seemed so long ago, and so simple compared to all of this. If he'd known about vampires, there wouldn't have been much sleep. He wondered if he'd ever been fed from when he was alive, but the thought gave him a panicky feeling in his stomach and he figured he'd never know for sure. 
Lilith sat down and crossed her ankles. "Damon, do you know anything about heroin?"
"Heroin?" Damon repeated. All of a sudden he felt nervous. The car pulled away from the curb and he felt trapped.
She held his eyes. "Yes, Damon, like drugs. Illegal narcotics? What, are you hard of hearing, or are you just stalling?"
Damon shrugged and looked out the window. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. He felt like he was being accused of something he didn't remember and he didn't know why. This was bullshit. "I don't know, Lilith. But, if you know something about me that I don't, I'd appreciate it if you'd share it with me."
Lilith looked out of the window. She didn't want to talk about it either.
Damon wasn't able to tell where they were. Nothing looked familiar. The buildings were too nice, the streets too clean. He wondered if everyone in the houses they passed were dead as well. A vampire neighborhood. The rich may as well all have been blood sucking monsters for all he knew. His eyes snapped into focus, expecting to see a reflection in the window, but he didn't. His hand went up to his head and pushed his hair back. He was usually good about keeping it short, but he couldn't remember why he'd grown it out in the first place.
"I need a haircut," he said, mostly to change the subject and end the silence. 
"Why?" She seemed offended by this. "It won't grow back."
He shrugged. "I don't want it to grow back. I like it short."
"I like it long." 
"You know, I was thinking," he said, looking of the window and trying to act casual, "That maybe one of these days I can borrow the car." Lilith didn't respond. "Just for a little while. I'm starting to remember some things about my Mom and I wanted to maybe visit her. She doesn't have to know I'm there or anything. I just wanted to make sure she's okay."
"Damon, I don't think you want me, or anyone I know, to find out where your mother lives, am I right?" She was powerful, she was a goddess, and Damon was afraid that she'd jump across the seat. Before he could say anything more, the car came to a stop and the driver killed the engine. Lilith looked out of the window and Damon followed her gaze. They were at some kind of warehouse.  "She's much better off now that we don't know that information, don't you agree?" Damon didn't answer because he felt like he could kill her. It was as simple as that. He wanted to rip out all of her hair and stomp on that pretty face. Lilith looked at him. "I want you to wait in the car for me."
"How long is this going to take?" Damon asked. He was hungry again.
"Why, do you have a date?" She snapped. She picked up her bag and glared at him.
He grabbed the wrist that the bag was in. "What happened to you to make you this bitter, Lilith? Did some guy fuck you over? Or maybe you just don't like dick all that much?" Here was the old Damon. He was out again, and he was about to get him into some trouble.
For a moment Lilith didn't move and Damon didn't either. Then she reached over and grabbed his hair at the nape of his neck. It was terrifying to be so close to her face when she was angry. "You're coming in with me," she said, and although he didn't know why this was such a threat, he knew that at this point he had no choice. When did he ever have a choice?
Lilith didn't let go of his hair as she stepped out of the car. She dragged him all the way inside and then shoved him up against one of those guys he'd seen that first night he'd woken up. It was the guy who'd handed him a shirt. He was wearing another black suit, and was straight faced as he clamped his hands on Damon's upper arms. Lilith didn't say anything to the man but it seemed understood that Damon wasn't going anywhere. The Suit held him right behind the door, out of the way of the other two men in black suits, one of whom handed Lilith a white letter sized envelope as soon as she walked in. 
It wasn't until he followed the clicking of her heels, less sharp on the concrete, that he saw the man sitting there on a lawn chair in the middle of the room, where it had been cleared of boxes. He was shirtless, sitting perfectly still, and following Lilith with his eyes. As well as the man tried to hide his shaking, Damon saw it and he was sure that Lilith saw it too. Damon could interpret the scene immediately. This guy had made Lilith mad, and it could've easily been Damon in that chair. 
Lilith didn't speak to the man. Just walked over and looked down at him. He would've been insane to jump up and try to attack her. If she couldn't have defended herself, there were three men standing right by in case he needed to be pulled off of her. So, what chance did this man stand? None in Hell.
"I have one question for you," Lilith said, her voice normal, her stance relaxed. The man didn't even look up at her. He stared straight ahead. Smart man. They all were waiting for her. No one moved. "When is the meeting?" Lilith held up the envelope, but Damon couldn't see it, or tell if there was more to it, some papers. There was no reply. The man was shaking, but he was a vampire and was able to control himself to the point where he'd be mistaken for a living mannequin had he been in public and not in some dusty old warehouse. It reminded Damon of a mafia movie, something too cool, or too violent, or too sensational to be real. Lilith didn't seem surprised when she didn't get an answer. She gave the man a few moments and then continued. "I will not torture you. I will not negotiate. We have two cans of gasoline." She paused for a moment and it seemed to Damon that her speech was rehearsed. He didn't know if this was attributed to the fact that she was nervous or just did this a lot. Again, silence. But Lilith didn't seem disappointed. When she turned to the man standing closest to Damon, he saw a distinct smile on her lips. "Is he here?"
"No," he said in a voice that had less personality than a robot.
Lilith looked annoyed at that. "Well, it looks as if I'll have to do this myself. And such a waste, too." 
Damon saw it then, that it hadn't been about the information. She hadn't come there for that. She'd gone there to take out her anger. Out came cans from their sides as the two men moved towards the center of the room. 
"Although," Lilith said afterwards, as she walked up behind the victim, who had gasoline dripping from his hair, "I suspect that your blood would have tasted foul anyway." She lit something in her hand, which Damon recognized as his own. It was the silver lighter he'd brought from home. The light reflected on his bright finish before Lilith's hand disappeared into her pocket.
Damon had thought himself invincible in this state, but the sound of this man's scream was enough to keep him quiet as he waited through Lilith's stops for her to feed, and tried, despite the nightmares, to sleep.

Company. Follow the Leader. Michael, the Prophet.

Voices broke through his darkness and when Damon opened his eyes, he knew it was the night for visitors. Lilith was in the other room. He could hear her through the wall, but her words were too muffled to make out clearly, and usually it wasn't a problem for him. He rolled over and stepped out of bed. When he tried to stretch, he found that his neck was sore. His hand felt the familiar indentations, and he wondered if vampires could be sucked dry, too.
 Damon ran a hand through his hair, looking for a mirror that was nonexistent. Wrong life. He focused on getting dressed instead. It was black Armani again, a knit shirt and slacks. Lilith would approve. He didn't know if he missed his jeans. Were all vampires like her? He hoped to God that they weren't. No, correct that. He hoped they weren't. He needed to drop the religious undertones. It was time to lose the human thoughts.
 Damon was walking to the door, still buckling his belt, when Lilith came in, sliding in without opening the door wide enough for him to see who her company was, brushing her body against his.  She pushed him back from the door and closed it behind her. "Do not come out of this room."
"What?" It wasn't because he hadn't heard.
"Don't leave this room," she said again, pointing one finger directly in his face. Damon felt like a puppy.
He sat down at the edge of the bed. "Why the hell not?"
Lilith seemed to really look at him for the first time. The look lasted a minute and then one side of her mouth crept up and Damon wanted to bite that plump lip right off. "You look nice, by the way. Were you trying to impress me?" Her scent came closer. He could identify it now. It was the smell of blood. She pushed her body against his, straddled him on the bed, and Damon felt like she surrounded him, his eyes full of gold curls. He couldn't ever remember being as turned on, even when he was alive and his only lust was women. She wiggled her hips on top of him, bared her teeth, and then she seemed surprised. "Damon, not right now," she said, and then blushed when he pulled her harder against him. "Damon, you're not supposed to be able to use those parts anymore." She started to pull away, but despite her strength Damon held her there.
"I may be able to come up with some uses for it," Damon said, and he couldn't shake that big goofy grin. He wanted her.
"It'll be gone soon. I guess maybe it just takes a while for it to stop working," she said, and it was clear that she knew the words would sting. Even when she was flustered, she never lost control.
Damon felt his stomach drop. He'd never thought of this. He swallowed. "So, vampires aren't supposed to be able to get it up?"
"No," she said, shaking her head and not looking a bit sad about it. "We're creatures inhibited by the blood lust. How can you even think of anything else?" She was right. The hunger was always there. Lilith slid off of his lap and he let her go. "Don't leave this room and don't make any noise. Pretend that you don't exist." 
"I'm hungry," he said, although he was distracted. Despite the fact that he was currently functional, he felt impotent. 
Lilith wrinkled her nose. "Well, be patient. I don't want them here anymore than you do. But I'm not going to get them out of here if I have to deal with you."
As soon as she was gone he went into the adjacent bathroom, which obviously had never been used, to test his equipment.

He was patient for a while, until his hunger began to become more insistent, and the voices in the other room rose to the point where he could begin to understand words like, don't, deny, and violence.  He sat up and looked at the door, tempted to just walk out. Maybe there was a party. Would he be noticed? Someone yelled "bull," but Damon couldn't tell what the argument was about. Certain words stuck out like, value, respect and human species. He put his ear to the door and the voices grew louder. It wouldn't surprise him to find out that the walls were sound proofed. He would've given anything to see what Lilith was doing. He pressed his body against the door. 
Lilith was yelling at someone about respect again. His hand went to the knob, still not enough courage to actually turn it. But as soon as his flesh touched the metal, the voices stopped. Damon felt awkward then, as if everyone on the other side had felt his presence and were staring at the door, waiting for his arrival. He stood perfectly still and listened for a noise, a movement, something to tell him that things had resumed. Nothing came. Should he open the door? It had been too sudden, even for vampires, to have left the room. They were waiting for him. Vampires couldn't die again, could they? So, nothing to fear then. His mind was running a blank on any type of superstitious knowledge of vampires. It was too much pressure and every moment he took, the longer it had been that they were sitting in silence, waiting for him. Damon turned the knob and pushed.
They were sitting on Lilith's cream colored couch, leaning forward as if they were in danger of being swallowed by it. There was no surprise on anyone's face. He was too afraid to move, too shocked to try to run because that was his first instinct, when he walked into a dangerous situation. And Lilith had been trying to save him from it, how ironic. There were four men, the first one bald, smoking a cigar in a black suit, red shirt, tie.  The man with the big nose in the chair next to him was in a suit too, blue shirt with the first button unbuttoned, blue eyes and spiky hair, sitting low with his hands on his lap. Across from him was a man on the couch, short black hair and dark eyes with a cigar on the ashtray in front of him. The oldest man had short gray hair and blue eyes. He wore a black suit, shirt and tie, like an undertaker. Not the way that Damon looked like an undertaker. He looked like the real thing. There were glass shot glasses shaped like chalices on the glass coffee table. Tomato juice, that's what the stains in them looked like.
Lilith stood in front of them all, giving Damon a disappointed look. 
"Nice of you to join us," the gray haired man said, after the moment of silence and meditation. "We were just debating your existence."
Damon was distracted by the smell of blood and fierce anger in the room. He could smell it now. If he'd been able to smell it from the bedroom, he probably wouldn't have had the nerve to turn the knob.
Damon opened his mouth, but Lilith said, "You must be kidding me. This isn't a new vampire." She sounded to Damon like the voice of reason, or some kind of hostage negotiator.
The gray haired man and the man next to him glanced at each other. "You go from being alone, to hiding a man in your bedroom. Meanwhile, we're hearing rumors that you changed over a human and here we are," the gray haired man said, putting his arms out, "You mean to lie to my face?"
The man with spiky hair snapped forward and said in a voice that sounded like a snarl, "Are you calling her a liar?" Damon almost took a step back. This man was fierce, and it was easy to see that he was barely under control.
Damon was able to find his voice. "I'm not a new vampire," he said, stepping in front of Lilith. He had to be honest with himself. He'd die for her. Maybe it was one of the reasons she'd brought him back to life.  He was shaking and knew it was obvious to anyone who looked at him. The vampire with the red shirt plunked his shot glass down on the table hard enough to draw everyone's attention. These were nice, expensive, and durable. All Damon had at his house were the novelty kind from places he'd never been to. His human life had been pathetic.
The gray haired man looked at him and then laughed. "Please. Your fangs haven't even fully grown in yet. Who are you kidding?" He waved a dismissive hand in front of Damon and turned his attention to the angry man with spiky hair. "Get him out of my sight." 
Damon was halfway into the lunge before he realized what he was doing. Maybe he was trying to prove himself, trying to seem like a man, but the only thing on his mind was destroying the gray haired grandpa who thought he was too good to be in the same room. Lilith grabbed him, knocking his head against the marble floor before he even made contact with the man, as if she'd known what he was going to do. He saw white, and then the pain subsided.
The gray haired man hadn't moved a muscle but the man with the spiky hair and pale blue eyes had his fists clenched and looked livid. Lilith stood over him and Damon could almost see the entire length of her leg. "What's wrong with you?"  Damon was too shocked to move. "Get up," Lilith said, as if every moment he lay there added to her embarrassment. Why didn't she know that she was the world to him? It was his fault really. He hadn't stopped to consider that this was probably part of her work. His head was pounding but Damon got to his feet trying not to show any sign of it. "Get out of here," Lilith said, her hand on her forehead like she felt like she'd just been hit in the head with a sledgehammer, too. Damon started walking towards the bedroom. "No," she said louder than necessary, "Out." 
Damon looked at her, but her eyes didn't say anything. She wanted him out of the apartment and out of her life. He had a feeling that she wouldn't keep him from coming back home, but he'd have to pay some price, eventually.
The city street was like a feast, a buffet for the monsters that walked among them. Their human breaths clung in the air, the easiest way to tell who was alive and who was dead. It was hard for Damon it was hard to walk by a pretty girl alone, or someone who was lost and distracted without wanting to drag them into an alley. But, he couldn't make another mess of an innocent girl. It was better to head down to the homeless shelter at the edge of the road that separated the Haves from the Have - Nots. Not that those people deserved to die anymore than any other human, but the shelter was a long walk from Lilith's apartment and many of the people he found there seemed to have mental problems, were confused, lonely people. It didn't make it right but Damon had to eat and well, the less on his conscience, the better. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was getting closer, the sidewalks dirtier.
Damon knew why Lilith hadn't wanted him to mention her name, wanted him to keep his mouth shut period. She'd broken some law in their world when she'd brought him back from the dead. He supposed that it made sense. If everyone just started turning humans into vampires left and right, then there wouldn't be so many people just like him when he'd been alive, who never even fathomed for a split second that one iota of the legends he'd known about vampires had been true. It made him wonder what else had been true. It also made him wonder where new vampires were supposed to come from. Maybe all the vampires who exist now have just always been. Why Lilith had been alone was another story. He guessed it wasn't a huge surprise. She wasn't exactly what he thought he'd end up with.
A couple walked out of a coffee shop and Damon paused a moment to inhale the scent of food. The beasts were awake in him, but had no desire to eat. The smell reminded him of his old life, much of which was still blurry yet. He turned to keep walking and then paused when he heard a yell from the alley just ahead. He took a few steps closer. It sounded like a woman was being attacked. Once he was in the threshold, easily seen from the narrow passage, the movements and muffled sounds stopped and all Damon could hear was quick breathing. He thought maybe he'd gotten the wrong impression. He listened for another movement, tried to see who was there in the dark, but all he could see were trash cans, scattered plastic containers, and a cat sitting on a dumpster. 
"Can I help you?" Came a deep voice. 
Damon jumped. He smelled it then, the smell of sweat, of rotting meat, blood. Always the blood. He needed to mind his own business. He realized what he should've noticed first, that there was only one heartbeat in the alley, one gasping breath. He needed to keep walking.
Two hours later found him with a full belly, touring the rough parts of the city. He didn't see any more of his kind and was glad. The other vampires were savages, and he felt overwhelmed with panic and fear every time he thought about them. He was also considering ways to end it all, but the thought of setting himself on fire was frightening, and a stake through the heart was questionable and nearly impossible to do alone.
Instead, he went home. The silence told him that everyone was long gone. Their empty glasses were still on the coffee table, next to the cigar butts in a glass ashtray. Why would vampires want to smoke cigars? Shit, why do humans smoke? At least to vampires, it isn't lethal.
Damon went into the empty bedroom and started the undress. The sun was getting closer to the horizon. He could feel it creeping up on him out of the corner of his eye. It was eerie to be so aware of something that seemed natural not too long ago. Everything was eerie, the fact that he could presently hear someone walking up the stairwell and past his front door, how he could smell the deli across the street and the fact that he knew there was a human in the building, somewhere. He was too tired to wait up for Lilith. He thought of ways to be decapitated. He slept.

Three sharp footsteps and then a slam. Damon opened his eyes and the room was dark. This was his punishment. The bitch. His ears followed her into the elevator. He leaned over and inhaled deeply. Her scent was missing. And the itch was back. He sighed and scratched his ear. He couldn't hear the elevator anymore. Where was she? Their apartment faced the street, didn't it? It faced everywhere, it's the fucking penthouse. 
He spotted her walking out from the canopy and crossing the street. He felt the adrenaline hit him. He could follow her, find out where she went at night, who cared if she found out, what was she going to do, kill him? Hallelujah, best fucking news he'd had all day. What he needed to do was get to the back of the house, to a back alley where no one could see him jump. He tried not to consider the word jump too closely. If he thought about it too much, he'd lose his nerve. There was a window facing an ally in a room he'd never been in. No one had, the bed was covered in dust and there were cobwebs draping the chandelier.  
Damon opened the windowpane and leaned out. He couldn't smell her from there, just the dumpster near the fenced in garden that was overgrown and full of dead flowers. He was just glad they didn't live in a taller building. This wasn't too ridiculous, maybe six flights, maybe eight or ten. He couldn't remember how many buttons were in the elevator. He pulled himself out onto the fire escape, remembering old stories about how vampires could jump from high places and land on their feet, just like cats. Or maybe it was werewolves? His heart should be thundering in his chest. He should be sweating, out of breath. Something. There should be some reason why he couldn't jump off of the fire escape.  He climbed over the railing, waiting for his mind to give him a reason. But, what did he have to lose? 
He paused. No humans in the alley. Maybe a large rodent and small car near the end of the block. Vampires were another story. They were almost undetectable if he stood perfectly still. How long was he taking? He'd never be able to pick up her scent again if he didn't move. He could already feel the scents of the city crowding his nose. Hotdogs, urine, blood. Always blood. He squatted, wanting the best and safest flex of muscle, and jumped.
The feeling of freefall was wonderful. His stomach was in his mouth when he landed, but his legs took the shock easily and he was able to stand with just a dull numbness in the soles of his feet. Maybe there were advantages to doing nothing but reading comics in high school. It wasn't until his freshman year in college that he'd started paying attention to anything other than comics, books, movies, and well, anything that wasn't a girl. College brought along independence, fun, and a roommate that helped change his perception of the world with the aid of illegal narcotics. Just being able to graduate was an adventure. He just wished he could remember it.
Damon stepped out into the street and started making his way down the sidewalk after the lingering scent of his love and nightmare, Lilith. He tried his best to stay on target, ignoring the cute human he passed, a brunette who was still sniffling from a cold. Past the grandma bundled up with a distinct smell like chocolate chip cookies and cigarettes. He stopped dead and turned around. She smelled like his Mom. Exactly like her. He forced himself to focus. Vampires don't have mothers. His hand instinctively went to his back pocket where the picture was. Where it still was, transferred to every pair of pants he wore. He tried not to look at the face when he took it out. It made him too sad. It was more of good luck charm now, something he felt better just having it with him. Lilith turned a corner and he knew that if he didn't keep walking, he'd lose her.
  Focus, focus. Lilith never once looked back. How could she not suspect? He passed a guy his age, purple hair, drunk, and Damon wondered his blood type. Did they have different flavors? Seems that they might. No victims so far had tasted the same. 
The quarter moon was high, the color of blue cheese. He tried his best to trail a block behind, and never take his eyes off of her. His scent guided him the most. There was a coughing drunk against the building, a middle aged man with a walkman to his right. Could Lilith smell him? She wasn't slowing, kept walking even when there started to be broken bottles on the sidewalk and used condoms in the gutter. How in the hell was he ever going to find his way home without having to follow her back? 
It was like a shadow sliding over a building, and Damon almost stopped completely.  A man with blonde hair to his shoulders came up beside Lilith. Damon's first instinct was that Lilith was about to be assaulted, but the man matched her stride perfectly. She didn't turn her head or speak, didn't seem surprised at all, and if they hadn't been in perfect step, they would've looked like strangers instead of militants. They were approaching a factory, a huge red brick building with a tower and a rusted clock that kept the wrong time. Damon sped up. That had to be it. He was careful to step around bottles and trash. The only humans he'd seen on the street two drug dealers and a bum riffling through a metal garbage can bolted to the sidewalk. It was odd to think of Lilith inhabiting in a rough neighborhood like this.  Eerie, like a dream. Shit, he should've been used to that feeling by now.
In the time that it took Damon to take a step, they had ducked down an alley on the side of the factory. He sped up and turned down right after them. The light was dim but by the time he rounded the corner, he saw one of the doors of the factory closing halfway down. He heard music, then silence. Sound-proof and dark inside. Well, at least he hadn't been seen.
It was yet another door with no handles. Damon brought his ear to it. The last thing he needed was a replay of the night before. He didn't think Lilith would give him another chance if he embarrassed her again. Once he rested his hands on the door, he felt it click and it swung open a few inches. It was another night club. Apparently, all vampires did was party. There was a huge vampire behind the door, a bouncer.  His arms were as big as Damon's thighs and his head was bald. He looked like some kind of warrior, but he just stared Damon up and down then stepped back to let him in. Once he took a few steps in he realized that the place was different from the last one he'd been to. His eyes rose to the only source of light, two drive-in screens showing scenes of human mutilations. Here were heads being chopped off, humans being attacked, tortured. Snuff films. They did exist. Damon tried to be repulsed, but he felt something rising inside of him and the music didn't help with its primal beating. It was like the sound of a heartbeat, only slightly faster than normal, like one of his victims who'd just spotted him in the shadows. Is this my reflection? Should I be afraid? This was a place for someone like him.
 Damon pushed his way through the crowd, pulling his arm out of several grips. They were trying to pull him in, but he was trying to find a half hidden curtain hiding a bar and VIP room like where he'd first met Lilith.  It was the bar that Damon found first, and he wanted to nip his craving, but he had no money to pay for it, hadn't any need for money since he'd met Lilith. He sat down at the bar, swiveled his stool to face the crowd. She was nowhere to be seen and he was too far away from the wall to see a curtain. Panic was rising in his throat like bile, and he wanted out, wanted to be somewhere quiet. He turned back to the bar just as the bartender a placed shot of the red stuff in front of him. Before he could say anything, the bartender pointed down the bar to where Lilith was leaning over, her curly hair almost touching the stains on the counter, watching him. Brilliant bitch. Had she been playing with him the entire time? Nothing was beyond her. She was a god. All seeing, all knowing.
 The man next to her, the same one from the street put his hand on her shoulder and Damon took this chance when her head was turned to down his shot. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he was seeing her for the first time, that it was another chance to meet her all over again, establish his role as the man. Courage. That's what he needed. He left his seat at the bar and walked over to her.
Lilith wasn't smiling when she spun around, legs crossed, hands folded on her lap. Good, watch her hands. She was fast. Damon opened his mouth to tell her that he was sorry, that he'd never even think about crossing her again, when the man sitting two stools over turned and grabbed his upper arm, stopping him before he could get within earshot of her.
"Hey," he said, leaning close to Damon's ear. He was a vampire, a normal looking guy, brown hair and eyes, but he had a grin on his face, like he was about to tell a joke. Damon wasn't sure that he'd ever been so close to another man before. "You been here before? Maybe I could show you around, you know, give you a tour." Damon started to pull away but the man's grip tightened and he stopped. "I just don't think you should be here right now." Did this guy work for her? He was missing the fancy black suit. Lilith walked away from the bar with the same man from the street. Damon watched her leave and then turned back to him because he still held his arm. The grin was gone. "Maybe you should give up the chase and go back home, friend." 
Lilith was trying to distract him while she disappeared with that other man, but Damon wasn't going to let her go. He pulled out of the man's grip and followed the two moving figures through the crowd. They were retracing their steps to the front door. Damon hurried to catch up, pushed people aside and managed to keep his balance despite the slippery trek. He was a step behind the front door when it closed behind them, but he managed to catch it before it clicked shut. A sick feeling formed in his stomach when his hand touched the cold metal, the sudden realization that he may have to face her, that she was angry about being followed. He turned and looked back at where he'd come, towards the bar and the man who'd tried to stop him. He didn't know why, maybe just instinct, maybe to see if he'd been followed, but he couldn't place his eyes on the guy. The crowd was too thick, the lights too dim. The bouncer came up behind him and blocked Damon's view of anything except massive pecs.
"Either you're in, or you're out," The bouncer said, leaning in close. "It's not a good idea to leave the door open." The look in the man's eyes told him it was more dangerous than anything else.
Damon pushed forward against the heavy door and into the dark alley. It seemed, as the door closed behind him, that he was alone and he'd lost her. Then, quicker than his vampire mind could comprehend, there was a loud crack, the sound of bone snapping in half and then the pain came, until he was blinded by the tears in his eyes. But he could still smell her and because of her cruelty, he wanted her dead.  He thought he cried out when he realized his left leg couldn't support him anymore, but the moment was lost to him, he couldn't think straight, couldn't see.
"See how well you follow me now," she hissed, the hot breath hitting his face smelled like rancid meat. Then the scent was gone, she'd left him, and he was alone. 
Damon grabbed at his leg, but the pain just flared up. He couldn't move his toes. Broken. But how? He hadn't even seen her when he'd stepped out, and there was no sign of the blonde haired man she'd been with. Damon was breathing now, hard, trying to calm himself because it seemed that the chances were great that another vampire would find him and instead of help him, suck him dry, kill him and leave his body to rot in the alley. Lilith would step over his body and reflect how she'd made him once. Such a waste, and after having so much fun. 
 He heard footsteps getting closer, but his eyes refused to focus on the face of the shadow moving towards him. It was too dim, and the person was illuminated by the street light behind them. There was the sound of loud music for a moment, then of a door slamming and another figure came into view, kneeling immediately in front of Damon as if to see if he was okay, pushing the first figure out of the way. Damon just worked on breathing because it distracted him from the pain.
"Back off, Kris."
"Who is he?" 
"It doesn't matter," the man leaning over him said. Damon felt cold hands on his back, propping him up against the brick building. 
"He looks familiar." An audible sniffing sound. "Is he hurt?"
His view was now completely obscured by one kneeling in front of him. "He's mine," the voice said through clenched teeth.
"Oh," the other said, and then laughed. "Well Michael, don't just leave him lying around on the street. Next time I see him out here I'm sending him upstairs."
Damon wanted to say something to set them straight, that he didn't belong to anyone, but he was afraid that nothing would come out of his throat but a sob. It hurt bad, like she'd cut the damn thing off. What she'd really done was break it in the shin, the most painful part of the leg.  
"Don't try to speak," the kneeling man said. The streetlight looked like a halo behind him. The other had left, or was at least gone from his sight. "That was close, man. Next time I give you a suggestion, don't just ignore me, ok?" The man put his hands around Damon's waist and picked him up easily, sighing deeply, and throwing Damon over his shoulder. Damon just bit his lip and tried not to cry. Vampires don't cry. "I don't usually go around doing charity work, you know. You're lucky you're my friend."

Damon woke up, mostly out of annoyance from the repetitive dripping sound. When he opened his eyes, he saw that it all hadn't been a dream. He was in a scummy bathroom, dumped in the bathtub, and definitely not in Lilith's house. He tried sitting up, but pain shot up through his right leg and he fell back down, bruising his back on the faucet.  He wondered how long he'd been sleeping. He was weak and his body felt sore. 
A head appeared in the doorway.  It was the man from the bar who'd brought him there. "How do you feel?" He asked.
"Like a big huge pile of dog shit," Damon groaned.
"Thanks for the imagery." His head disappeared into the other room.
"What's your name?" Damon called.
The head reappeared. He was grinning, looked like a nice guy, a regular joe. "My name's Michael."
"Thank you, Michael," Damon said, trying again to lift himself up but not able to balance himself. He'd fallen back in awkwardly and couldn't get back on his feet. Why the hell had the guy put him in the bathtub, anyway?  Worried that his body would get in the way? "For not leaving me out there. Who knows what the Hell would've happened to me. I'm Damon." He offered Michael his hand. "Little help?"
"Yeah, buddy, no problem," Michael said, as he walked into the bathroom and took Damon's hand. "You're weak. Come on, I'll get you some food." Damon used Michael as leverage to stand on his bad leg and pull himself out.
Damon followed him into the dirty apartment, limping slowly and biting back the pain. Good progress, though. At least the bone had healed in his sleep. Enough to stand but he decided it was probably better not make any quick movements. Michael walked over to a small fridge against the wall and came back with a milk bottle full of blood.  Just like Lilith's place.  Probably the only thing that was like Lilith's place since Michael's apartment was a dump. Busted down furniture, and empty milk bottles all over the floor. Why milk bottles? Nostalgia?  Michael handed the bottle to Damon. "It's not the kind of stuff that you're used to but it'll help get you back to normal."
It was gone in two gulps and tasted about the same grade as everything else he usually drank. "Thank you," he said, although he didn't understand the hospitality. He also didn't know what to say next. 
"You should stay here a few days," Michael said, breaking the silence. Damon started shaking his head but Michael continued before he could make his protest verbal. "Do you believe that some people are able to see the future?"
"No," Damon said, mostly out of instinct, but then he reconsidered. "But I never believed in vampires, either."
Michael nodded in agreement and sat down on one of the barstools that were lined up against the wall, when there was no bar to speak of. "I know the feeling. We're taught to be skeptics. But look at radio, television, cell phones. What could be more impossible than invisible signals floating through the air and into your home? That's unbelievable to me. So if that's fact, what's unbelievable about people receiving invisible signals in their minds? Think of me as a receiver."  Damon shrugged and then sunk into a nearby chair into the broke down purple velvet couch, to help the throbbing in his leg. Who was this guy?  "I knew what she'd do to you. I knew before I even woke up. Don't you think there was a reason that I was sitting in that specific seat at the bar? That I found you in the alley and brought you here?" Michael asked, indicating the room that had never seen a mop, a broom, or any kind of cleaning product. "Come on, think about it," He said, placing a finger on his forehead. "What are the chances? And believe me, anyone else and I wouldn't have thought twice about just minding my own business." 
"And I thank you for that," Damon said, and shifting in his seat. Just met the guy and he was already annoying him.
"Look, you can't go home. Trust me on that. Just give her a couple of days to cool off. You obviously know what she's capable of."
"Why should I trust you? I don't even know you." He said, and he was angry suddenly, he didn't know why.
Michael shrugged. "I don't know why. Maybe because I just saved your life. I know where you came from and I know where you're going, okay? We're friends, or," He said, shrugging. "We will be."
"If I go home, she'll attack me again?" Damon asked and grimaced, thinking of his injury that was quickly feeling better. What didn't help at all was that he couldn't forget the sound of the bone snapping. Damon looked at Michael. He didn't seem like a nutcase. He seemed like someone Damon would've been friends with before his little accident. 
"Forgive me for being cheesy, but she made you and she can destroy you. She can," And then Michael trailed off and his eyes glazed over, "She can be difficult." It seemed to Damon that had no other choice. "She won't hunt you down while she's still angry. You'll be safe here."  
Damon figured that if Michael had the intention of keeping him prisoner, there wasn't much he could do about it now. "When you found me there was someone else there. You told him to back off because I was yours." Damon looked at him. "I'm not," he paused. "What did you mean by that?"
Michael's grin got wider. "Hey, don't get the wrong idea." He laughed. "I don't think I'll ever quite understand Kris." He paused and took a sip from his glass, looking refined. "These people are not the kind you want to mess with. He's just like Lilith, the bastard always has been. He could've kept you like some kind of pet. Then where would you be?" His grin widened. "You're not into wearing slave collars, are you?" Michael laughed but Damon felt sick remembering how easily Lilith had hurt and then abandoned him in the alley.
 "She doesn't own me," he said, shaking his head. "She asked me to live with her, and I agreed." He could tell Michael didn't believe him but he kept talking, trying to convince himself, at least. "She's rich, powerful, and beautiful. I shouldn't have followed her." He crossed his arms. "How did you get to be such a Lilith expert?" 
Michael didn't respond at first, just looked away. "Damon, we're cool, okay?" He caught himself. "You don't have to be afraid of me." He chugged the rest of his drink.
"I'm not afraid," Damon said, sitting back in the chair, pushing against the firm and worn velvet, the metal springs underneath.
Michael nodded once. "You're safe here." Damon looked towards the window and as he did, Michael shifted in his seat. The sun was about to break the horizon and his new best friend seemed to feel it too. Michael stood up and patted the couch. A cloud of dust flew up. "Wouldn't be a bad couch to sleep on."
Damon nodded. "Thanks."
"Stop thanking me," Michael said, tossing the milk bottle over his shoulder. Damon liked the sound of the glass shattering. 
Once Michael was gone Damon lay down and was asleep as soon as is head hit the velvet. 

The next night Damon woke up to some classic AC/DC. We're on the Highway to Hell. He smiled. It was funny because it was true. When he opened his eyes a scraggly haired brown dog sat in front of him within an inch of his nose. Had he forgotten something? He heard Michael walk up.
"You got pets?" Damon asked. His leg didn't hurt. He swung both of them over the side and sat up. The dog smelled like wet garbage. Adorable.
"Don't get too used to him," Michael said. "I caught it for a friend who's got a kid. She was supposed to come by."
Damon looked over his shoulder. Michael was wearing a T-shirt and camel colored shorts.  Damon couldn't remember what it was like to wear whatever he wanted.  "A vampire kid?"
Michael shrugged. "Yeah, she's a friend from a way back. She was pregnant at the time of her," he paused and looked away. "Her accident. She doesn't remember much about it, which isn't really unusual. Anyway, the baby was born shortly afterwards, two months premature, and it grew normally for a while, but then it stopped."
"But doesn't the child's mind still evolve? Grow up?"
Michael shrugged and shook his head. "It's weird, I mean, we can't know for sure whether the brain stopped developing because the baby never learned to talk. She never got that far. Let me tell you something though, that kid looks like a toddler but she's a natural predator. It's like she has no conscience, no morals, and no remorse. Monica's had to pull the kid off of her before. Can you imagine being stuck with a kid for all eternity? But what do you do? It's your kid, so you can't just abandon it, too sentimental. But you can't turn your back or sleep with your throat exposed or else you wake up missing a pint and having nightmares about dirty diapers. The kid's small but she could take down a cow if she wanted to. Probably a human kid too but they run too fast." He paused. "You know. Short legs, she'd never keep up." Then, he started laughing and Damon wasn't quite sure that everything he'd just said was a joke.
 "So where's the kid now?" Damon asked.
Michael composed his face. "They must've gotten intercepted, as far as I can tell. Never showed up. The fact is that some people high up aren't too happy with this kid running around. I was trying to get her safe passage to Europe, but that's not exactly something you'd want to experience in your lifetime. I'm hoping that she just chickened out. "
"Why is that?" Damon asked. He was glad he'd stayed. Michael was a nice guy, straightforward and informative just the kind of friend he needed to meet right now. 
"You may not have noticed this yet, but our kind aren't too fond of running water. Which is why, in case you hadn't known, the majority of the vampires in this city, seeing that it's an island, have been here since their deaths. I know where every back alley leads to. I know this city inside and out." Michael ran a hand through his spiky brown hair. "And I know its people inside and out. I mean, that's why` your appearance had drawn so much attention. I mean, no one can understand how Lilith thinks no one will notice. It's a slap in the face of our rules, our commandments, and the structure of our society. It's blatantly obvious that she's made you for no other reason than to piss people off."
"Sounds like Lilith," Damon said. Shit, it was worse than being an accident. No wonder Lilith wouldn't give him the time of day. He swallowed and turned back to the dog. He didn't want to hear anymore. Face to face with an endless pile of information and he didn't want to talk about it. "What are you going to do with this guy?' Damon asked, and put his hand on the dog's head. He could hear the animal's heartbeat and feel the blood moving underneath his skin. He wondered why he'd never gotten a dog when he was alive. It seemed to him that he'd missed out on a lot. He'd never even left the city during his time alive, never on a school field trip, or on a vacation, and now he never would.  He was cursed to learn every inch of it. Damon wanted to puke.
Michael shrugged. "I don't know. He's kind of cute but that beating is driving me insane."
Yes, the beating was annoying and seemed to be taunting them. Mortality. "I don't suppose we could change him?"
 "Probably not a good idea."
Damon nodded. They didn't need another animal with a thirst for blood roaming the street. The dog didn't seem to think anything of them staring at him, he just sat there with his tongue hanging out, panting. For a second Damon was tempted to snap his neck and get it over with.
"Just want to rip him apart, don't you?" Michael asked, complete 180, and complete change of voice. He'd gone from standing by his doorway to leaning over the couch before Damon could turn his head, thinking for a split second that someone else had entered the room.
The sad thing was that it was exactly what Damon had been thinking. "You can read my mind?"
He shook his head. "No, just able to pick up on feelings. It's comes natural to our kind. You'll learn how to develop it. It's the blood lust." Again with the blood lust. Damon hated that term. He felt like Mr. Hyde, like he could snap at any moment. It hated it more because he knew he could, and he had. Michael was walking back to his room.
 "Michael, can you see what Lilith is doing right now?"
He stuck his head back out of the doorway. Through the open door Damon could see an American flag hanging up on the wall of Michael's room.  "Nothing new. Plotting to take over the world."
"Funny," Damon said, turning back to the dog. What was the point of having a friend who could see the future if he wasn't any help? Damon wanted to get out of there, go back to Lilith's where he didn't know so much, and where he could hide from Michael's judgment. The walls of Lilith's prison were much safer than being out in the city, interacting with his kind.
Michael stood in the doorway. "I don't have to look at what she's doing. Her and Kris, that's what they do."
"Kris? The guy from the alley last night?" Damon asked. 
Michael crossed his arms, and a vision popped into Damon's head. Military, he was sure. In another life, Michael had been a soldier. "You don't know? She hasn't told you?" 
Damon didn't like the tone, and wasn't sure that he wanted to know. "Know what?"
Michael walked to the side of the couch, to look in Damon's face as if he thought he was kidding him. "What she does when she leaves at night." Damon could see what he was doing. Michael was leading him. He was giving him a chance to refuse the information.
"Taking over the world?" Sarcastic. A ridiculous idea, taking over the world.
Michael crossed his arms. "Damon, there's a war going on. And you were born right into the middle of it."
"A war over what?" Betrayal was the first feeling to hit him, and he wasn't sure why, since Lilith had never made promised to be honest.
"Over power."
Damon felt like he was reading a bad science fiction novel. Bad being relative, because he'd liked them when he was alive. "Power," he repeated. Great. He'd never been one for politics. "Well, what side of the war are you on?"
The easy going look came back to Michael's face. "Just like any red blooded American, whichever side maintains the status quo. Let's me live my life the way I like."
"Is this some kind of war with the humans?" Damon asked, and guessed it was sort of natural. Those were the legends, right? Looks like they'd gotten something right.
"Sort of. More like the power to control them. If you think about it, the humans aren't much of an issue, are they?"
Right. He had a point. Damon ran a hand through his hair. "Well, what side is Lilith on?"
"Anarchy," Michael said. "For no government, free rule over the humans, and a black market that treats them like cattle. Blood banks would be nothing compared to what they want."
"Wouldn't be so bad," Damon said, shrugging although he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was what Lilith would've wanted him to say. Disgusting.  This is where he stood in this war, next to his companion.
 "No, not if you don't have any morals to worry about. I guess some vampires think too human."
Damon looked down at his hands and wondered what he'd done in his past life to make him deserve such a mess. He felt an urge to look at the picture of his mother, which he had in his back pocket, but he was afraid of something more emotional rising in his throat. "Yeah," he said, but knew he wasn't fooling anyone.
Michael leaned closer, looked in his eyes. "I think there's someone you should meet."

The Front Line. Puppy Food.

Michael took him for a walk through the industrial section of town. Cracked and overgrown sidewalks, glass crunching under their feet. Crows. It was not at all like where Lilith's club had been, a factory at the end of the business section of town. Michael's hour walk had taken them through the ghetto, past the government housing, and the power plant. They had arrived at a Mecca of abandoned warehouses, the kind of place Damon would've avoided walking the streets of alone, dead or undead. It felt creepy, all the buildings lined up with gaping holes in their faces, with who knew what still living in them.  Spooky. 
 "This important person I'm supposed to meet lives out here?" Damon asked. Conversation had been casual, and Michael, quiet. 
"No, he doesn't live here." Michael made it sound like an insult. "This is where they do business." Damon nodded, looked over his shoulder at a rustle in the ashes of an old bakery, a little Dutch girl faded gray smiled back at him. "We can't just shove them in the middle of human places, we have to have privacy, and we have to hide." He paused. "From Lilith." Damon was bothered by the grim frown on Michael's face. Disapproval, for sure, maybe something more in the tone. Damon nodded that he understood, but he hated being there, hated realizing that Lilith was worse than he'd thought.
"I haven't been able to see the stars this clearly in a long time," Damon said, in an effort to lighten the subject. Third grade, Boy Scout camping trip. He was remembering more every day. More human life to miss. Damon never knew that city streets could be so dark. The buildings were bleak and silent, the streetlights out on both sides. Michael opened his mouth to comment, but just ahead of them, the streetlight snapped on like someone had hit a switch. They both stopped dead. 
"They can see us." Michael didn't move, but his eyes rolled in his sockets, searching, listening. "Keep walking," he said, lower. They moved forward on the same foot and in twenty steps the next streetlight blinked twice and then turned on, right before they reached it, broken glass twinkling in the street leading the way like stars. Damon looked at Michael again, who swallowed but kept his mouth shut. 
Twenty steps, light number three turned on. "You weren't kidding when you said this guy was important, huh?" Damon asked. 
"No," He said.
Damon counted to twenty again and light number four blinked on. "Are we almost there?" He asked through clenched teeth. There was a scurrying sound from nearby bushes. Rat.
"Yeah."
Damon heard the sound of glass breaking a block away. Started praying, and then stopped. "Are we expected?"  Five.
"Now we are."
Number six brought them to a small building sat far back from the street. Michael stopped in front of it and Damon was relieved to see that it still seemed to have a decent roof and from what he could tell, all four walls intact.
"What do we do now?" Damon asked. He was afraid to leave the sidewalk and take the well worn dirt path that led to the front door. Michael went first, ignoring Damon's question. There was a small plaque about the size of a light switch plate next to the door that cast a copper glow. The black symbol, which looked like two fangs in the shape of a cross looked familiar, but he knew it wasn't a good time to open his mouth. Their footsteps were loud enough. Michael ran his fingers along the raised enamel of the symbol. Once the tip of his finger touched the tip of the lowest fang, there was a click and the door creaked open half an inch. The air inside was cold and stagnant and Damon's first thought was that he didn't want to go in. It was the familiar smell of rotting wood it made his throat heavy.  It was the first smell he could remember from his rebirth. The smell of his death.
"You coming?" Michael asked, looking back to find that Damon was still outside.
Get a fucking grip. You're not only an adult, you've cast your mortal coil. He stepped inside and made it a point to close the door behind him. There were no lights on, but he could make out piles of boxes stacked high to the ceiling. His scent told him nothing about what was in them, but with his nighttime vision that got stronger and sharper by the day, he could see paths between the cardboard towers, a method to the madness. Damon guessed that it would've been pitch black if he were still human. There was a lump that he suspected was fear in his throat, but this place wasn't as bad as walking in and finding another fucking night club. But, Michael didn't hesitate, wasn't surprised at the abandoned look of the place, and didn't seem scared. He led Damon through the path between the pillars and walls made of cardboard, a hedge maze made of boxes. One left, straight ahead, two lefts, a right, and Damon had lost track of the way back. He almost fell out of step when he saw a shadow flit by through a gap in the boxes, and he wasn't entirely sure that hadn't heard a few extra footsteps between their own. Michael didn't seem to pay them any attention and Damon didn't want to lose his guide, so he tried his best to ignore it.  They came to a flight of metal stairs, which took them to a platform and an office with an open door. 
Great. They'd found the administrative offices of the revolution. Damon wished then that he would've asked more questions about this man he was about to meet. He hadn't even asked Michael how he knew him. Damon was a child in this world, he was trusting, and so far it had just come down to luck. But wait until he learned shit. Then everybody had better watch out. Right.
Michael stood by the open doorway and let Damon walk in first. The messy office was lit by candlelight, and behind the scuffed mahogany desk was seated the gray haired man he had first encountered seething in Lilith's apartment. The last time Damon had seen the man, he'd wanted to tear him apart, limb from limb and then piss on his lifeless body. Except this man wouldn't be as easy to kill as a human.
Damon glanced at Michael, who wasn't meeting his eyes. He'd been saved from the alley just to suffer humiliation? Just a joke then, and Damon had been stupid enough to think this Michael punk was psychic.  The only thing on the old man's face was amusement. 
"Please sit," the gray haired man said, pointing to the only two chairs in the room, dust clinging to both the rotted wood and the papers stacked up past the chair backs. Damon looked back and forth between the old man and Michael, and then sneered. The man behind the desk stood up. "I'm Lucas." As if Damon would be familiar with the name. He held out his hand and Damon shook it, out of reflex, and with fear. Lilith will find out. And he would not be forgiven.  "Good to have a formal introduction. Thank you, Michael."
"No problem, Lucas. What's new? How's the front line?" Michael asked, sporting his big grin. In the candlelight Damon noticed it was a bit crooked and broad, and that there were no laugh lines next to his eyes. Damon wanted to punch Michael in his goofy face, stomp on it. No, slice it off. That was better. There was the animal in him again. Violent thoughts were calming.
Lucas ignored the comment. "I'm glad the two of you came to see me," he said, leaning against his desk and almost knocking down a stack of papers stacked midway up his torso. Just like any kind of job, mountains of paperwork and formalities. Bureaucracy and bullshit. 
"I didn't know he was bringing me here," Damon said, though he knew it wouldn't make a difference to Lilith. She'd slit his throat when she found out he'd been there. 
"Damon wanted to learn about the war," Michael said. Not defensive. Matter of fact.
Lucas nodded. "I know it can be a bit confusing when you first enter this world." Damon picked up on the choice of words and just stayed silent, not sure if Lucas was trying to trap him. 
Michael leaned in closer and seemed to meet Lucas's eyes. "But I don't think he knows anything about it."
Lucas raised his eyebrows. Maybe he'd been under the impression that Damon had been made as some weapon against his side. Surprise, surprise. Damon was just another possession she'd acquired. The thought stung and Damon wondered where along the line he'd grown so bitter. 
"I'm not sure that it's any of my business," Damon said. "I think I made a mistake coming here." He didn't meet anyone's eyes, just stared at a hole in the ceiling, body stiff, his arms behind him like a soldier.  Had he been military in life? Doubted it. 
Lucas took a deep breath. "No, no. This is important to learn, especially to some, especially to you." He said it as if Damon mattered. Damon almost snickered, knowing better. "I'll try to explain it briefly and with as little cliché as possible, because I know humans tend to mock and trivialize things they know nothing about. They have movies and books that make light of our efforts. It's interesting how humans have a way of knowing while still claiming ignorance, don't you think?" Rhetorical question. Damon crossed his arms, trying not to pay attention, tuning it out, killing time until he left. Not wanting to remember, to be able to convincingly deny it later. There was nothing he'd learn there that Lilith couldn't teach him. "While the history of the American vampire does not extend as far as that of our European counterparts we have successfully conformed to a similar way of life. A life of hiding, some might say." He said this tight lipped, as if some might say it, but never him. "Recently, and I use that term loosely, since time moves slower on this side of the veil, there has been a revolt to change our way of life. We've considered different approaches of feeding over the years, even considered taking over the daylight, but hiding our kind seems the best route to maintain a balance. Humans would become endangered fairly quickly. We're not monsters, but to have faith in our kind, enough to entrust the fate of an entire species? We have no desire to extinguish the development of the free human species. We're all still human, to some extent. We may change, evolve, but our human skin still lies underneath, and we should never forget it. Damned are those who presume they are gods, don't you agree?"
Damon did, but he refused to acknowledge it. 
When it was clear that Damon wasn't going to respond, Lucas continued. "We've always had rebels in our society, those who have become bored with their eternal lives and instead spend their time trying to tip the balance of power, but we've held firm on our traditions.  Your Lilith, however, is posing a bigger problem than we originally thought. Initially, we thought of her as someone who'd lose interest quickly, or make someone angry and get herself killed. Surprisingly, however, she's had staying power. Now we find out that she's taken it a step further. She's recruiting allies. She's uniting our society against us. She's promising them a vampire utopia, a chaotic feeding frenzy, something that we've fought to keep from happening since the first of our kind rose from the grave. You're living in her house. I am curious to know where your interests lie." 
 "Where do you think?" Damon snapped and then turned to Michael, still angry about being caught off guard, being put on the spot when they knew how Lilith was, exactly what Damon was up against despite what his personal opinion may be. He didn't have a personal opinion when it came to her. "Michael, you yourself don't know your position in this 'war'," Damon said, making quotation marks with his fingers.
"Don't be a fool and think that because this city doesn't look like a war zone that there is not a struggle for power going on beneath the surface," Lucas said so sharply that Damon felt ashamed. He wasn't Michael, had no history with these people. Lucas got to his feet and returned to his seat behind the desk. "Everyone must choose sides eventually. Don't assume because of Michael's laid back nature that he doesn't have a personal stake in this, Damon. Why else do you think he'd bring you here?" Damon looked away. It made sense. "It's important for everyone to pick a side. Because when the war finally comes, those who are neutral will get lost in the shuffle, trampled in our wake. Then there are those who could play a pivotal role if they chose to." He opened his mouth and then closed it, swallowed and his eyes rose above Damon's head. Damon followed, half expecting to see a bat wearing Lilith's face, but found nothing there but cobwebs.  "I can't speak candidly here, Damon," Lucas said, drawing his attention back. "I'd like you to come to meet my colleagues, and to learn more about this 'war'," Lucas said, imitating Damon's quotation marks. But Damon didn't want to agree to anything. He was unsure about what to think about the gray haired man, or even friendly Michael who, up until now, Damon had considered a friend. "You don't have to decide right now. Sleep on it," Lucas said, returning to his paperwork. "I'll get the information to you."  It was clear from the bowing of his head over the mess on the antique desk that it was time for them to leave. They had been dismissed. Damon turned. "May the Lord keep you," Lucas said in a tone of voice that Damon wasn't sure that he liked. "Until we meet again."
Damon saved his outburst until they were back on the street. The streetlights were all on. "Did you really think that bringing me here would change anything?" Damon threw his hands up and then started walking in the direction they'd come, towards home. "I hope you realize the shit you've gotten me into."
Michael shrugged, followed. "Just seemed like you needed some guidance, and there's no better place I know than Lucas. I know that she isn't giving you the full picture."
"What do you even know about Lilith? You don't live there."
Michael was quiet for a moment, the only sounds on the street were their footsteps crunching on broken glass. "I know Lilith."
 "What the hell did she ever do to you?" Damon asked, wondering how many years they had been around before Damon was even born. Michael had a tight lipped smile when he shook his head. Damon couldn't blame him. He didn't have much of an argument for defending Lilith. The longer he spent in his new vampire skin, the more he wished for his heart to begin beating again. He wished for ball games on Sunday, calling his mom out of the blue, traffic. Going to work. Making love. Lucas was right. What kind of world would it be if Lilith was in charge?
"When can I go home?" Damon asked. He was hungry, had dreamt of Lilith's flesh. It's a shame that he hadn't been alone with Lucas. Had he been this violent in his past life? He liked to blame it on a side affect of his condition. The truth was that he couldn't remember much about his life before.
"What the hell is for you there?" Michael asked. 
Damon ignored the fact that Michael thought him insane. "When can I go home?" He repeated.
"I'm not holding you hostage, buddy." Michael's feelings seemed to be hurt. "You think I like you around, cramping my style?" Then, he grinned again and things were fixed between them.
"You know what I mean." Damon said regretting every moment since he'd woke up and decided that it would be a good idea to follow Lilith home. But, that was something he knew that lingered from his living days. He had a memory, clinging to the surface of his consciousness. First seeing Giselle at Starbucks. Saw her walk in with pink sweatpants, and matching iPod on her hip, cheeks rosy from the cold. Junkies couldn't possibly live that healthy. He'd been a fool back then, too.
Michael took a deep breath, acted as if just thinking about Lilith was physically painful, and then said, "If you were to walk out of here right now, take a right at the corner and grab the city bus headed downtown, you'll arrive at approximately ten thirty eastern time. You'll walk in and find her with two men. She will be pouring herself a nightcap into a glass that will shortly make contact with your head. The two low level suits will then remove you by force. I will, yet again, have to come get you and believe me, I won't be as happy to do it this time. One leg was bad enough, but two shattered knee caps will keep you incapacitated for days." He glanced at Damon, maybe to see if he'd cross the street, but Damon just gritted his teeth and kept walking beside him. "I have better things to do with my time. I had plans tonight."
"Who are they?" Damon asked. "Those two men she's with." Couldn't help it. He'd reached new lows when it came to women. But Lilith was all he really had. The only thing in this world really his.
"I knew you were going to ask me that," Michael said, louder than necessary, but Damon could tell that he wasn't really angry, just playing the part. Michael, always playing.
"Of course you knew," Damon said, interrupting. "You're a prophet."
Michael's steps slowed and he tilted his head, giving Damon a slanted smile, studying him. "Some people would call me that." He shook his head, appearing to try to dismiss the comment from his mind. The look on his face had been distant, as if he were remembering something. "But aren't you even curious about what my plans are?"
"I'm curious about those two men." He refused to crack a smile.
Michael shook his head and didn't open his mouth. 
The night was the coldest he ever remembered in the city, colder than Lilith's body, and he found his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black leather jacket. The moon was bright, and combined with the orange street lights, made their trek seem unreal, made him feel like he was starring in his own horror flick.
"Since you obviously have no intentions of asking," Michael finally said, "I'll just tell you. I planned to take you out so you can have some fun. I'm sure you haven't tasted our nightlife." They stood on the street outside of Michael's apartment. "I bet you thought all we did was eat."
Fuck nightlife. He'd seen enough. "They're probably just friends from work, right? The two guys." They went upstairs.
Michael paused outside of his door and gave him a look that Damon recognized as the look of a friend who's about to punch you in the face. "Yes, Damon," he said. "They're probably friends from work."
Damon didn't want to talk about it anymore. He needed a break from thinking. This woman was going drive him insane. "I don't feel like going out tonight," he said and he sat down on the couch. Flashback from his living days.  His arms were itchy again and he scratched the inside of his wrist. When he looked down at it, he thought for a moment that he saw red welts. He blinked and they were gone. Was it the hunger? He turned towards Michael's bedroom, where he could feel him standing against the doorway. "It smells like shit in here." He felt a weight on his lap and he put his hand on the dog's head, scratched him behind a flea ridden ear. "Oh." He'd forgotten.
"Let's eat it," Michael said, hovering over the back of the couch. 
Damon thought that the beating in the dog's chest was the most annoying thing he'd ever heard until the rumbling sound started from deep inside of it. Damon smiled because it seemed that he hadn't heard that sound in a long, long time. "I think it's hungry."
Michael sighed. "If we're not going to eat it, then let's set it free and get going. The streets are calling me, man. I'm starving."
"Let's feed it." Damon said, finally saying the conclusion that he'd had in his mind all along. He'd had a memory come back while looking at the eyes of poor mutt, of volunteering at the animal shelter with his Mom. She'd made him work for a few weeks every summer. Explains why he'd had such a soft spot lingering. Remembering her smile hurt. Remembering her bringing his lunch and keeping it next to hers in the fridge, remembered the smell of the kennel, getting bit by a pit bull. Remembered Roxie, head nurse, man, she was cute. A good kisser, too. It all hurt so bad that he closed up his mind, swallowed, and scratched behind his own ear. 
Michael paused as if he wasn't sure what he'd just heard. "Let's feed it," he repeated, and then threw up his hands.
"I don't suppose you have any dog food," Damon said, scratching the shaggy mess and trying to maintain patience towards the rumbling.
"Unfortunately, I don't." 
"I guess I'll swipe some money tonight after I'm done feeding." There was the guilt again. Yes, Lucas had been right. The human skin was still there. He couldn't imagine letting go of that part of him.
Michael plopped himself down on the couch next to Damon. "What do you think, that we're going to walk into some twenty four hour supermarket without some kind of disaster? I don't know about you, but I know I don't have that kind of self control. Besides, I thought you didn't want to go out," he said. 
Damon gave him a dirty look. Michael was such a woman. He reminded Damon of Giselle. Well, what he remembered of Giselle by the end, which was, mainly, that she'd been annoying. "What do you suggest?"
"I suggest we let him go and then go have fun."
"Look at him," Damon said, "He's pathetic. He'll get eaten alive out there."
"Out there?" Michael asked, pointing to the window. "Where the hell do you think this dog came from? I was going to feed it to a three year old. You should consider him lucky."
Damon shrugged and looked at the dog again. "Well, he doesn't eat blood."
"Are you hungry or not?"
"Michael, I'm not going to eat the dog," he said.
"No, asshole. Let's find some food that owns a dog," Michael said, grinning.

They walked down the sidewalk looking for a human walking a dog.
"I don't think people walk their dogs this late," Michael said, after five blocks and no sign or scent of canine.
"Maybe someone who has a puppy," Damon said. "They've got to go at all hours of the night." They had left their new pet at home to wait and shit. He felt bad because it was late, the sun was creeping closer to day break, and it was too late for Michael to have fun now, they'd have to go right back. Damon couldn't wait to sleep and let all the information he'd learned sink in. 
They both spotted him at the same time, a fat balding man wearing horn rimmed glasses, tripping over his big puppy's leash. Rottweiler, female, unfixed. Damon moved forward, imagining that he'd be able to take the man with one arm tied behind his back, but Michael caught his arm. "You think he's got a bag of dog food in his pocket?"
Damon nodded that he understood, and they backed into an alley nearby. The man didn't seem to notice he was being watched. They were just a shadow to him. The human didn't even reach for the bottle of mace Damon could smell in his pocket. They waited on the puppy. 
"I don't even know how you talked me into this," Michael said. They were hugging themselves, trying to find warmth that wasn't there and periodically jumping up and down a bit as if that would help.
"I guess I'm just a nice guy." He paused then said in a soft voice, because he was embarrassed that his mind kept going back to the same thing. "Do you know what she's doing right now?"
Michael peeked his head out of the alley. "Still sniffing."
"No," Damon said although he was sure that they'd both known who he'd been talking about.  "Lilith. What's she doing? Is she alone?"
Michael shifted his eyes and looked back around the corner. When Damon saw his face again, he looked relieved. "I think she's going to go. Dirty bastard, he's going to let her go right on the sidewalk, isn't he?" Michael turned and watched them, and Damon leaned up against the brick wall next to him, listening for a sound to signal they were heading home. "That's disgusting," Michael said before turning back. "Right on the sidewalk." Then, he grinned. "Time for stealth mode," he whispered to Damon, and then was gone. 
It took Damon a moment to realize what had happened, and then Damon followed him into the next alley. He could barely make out Michael's shape wavering in the light and his found it was easy for his body to follow, and instinctive pull making him cross over the veil, to the side he usually only used during daylight hours. The human hadn't had to walk too far in the cold, the bald man ducking into the first apartment on the next block. It was strange being under the veil at night. The air felt heavier and unnatural and he couldn't see as clear, even looking into the bright lobby of the human's apartment building, it was like wearing sunglasses. They stood outside watching the human get into the elevator through the glass double doors. Damon put his hand on the handle, but Michael shook his head. He followed his eyes to see that Michael was watching the digital display over the doors to see where it stopped. 
"Six," Michael said, "I'll race you." 
Michael won by a flight, and by the time Damon busted through the stairwell door onto the sixth floor, the human was down the hall putting his key in the lock of apartment 612. Michael was leaning over the bent form with one arm against the doorframe. Playing with his food. 
"Look at this guy," Michael said, "Pitiful. Imperfect. Human." Once the human had the door open, Michael didn't move to follow him in, couldn't, just let the human close the door in his face. They crossed back over the veil together, and Damon felt much more comfortable without the screen over his eyes.
Michael was looking at him, so Damon closed his eyes and put his head up against the door. There were two strong heartbeats, and another fainter and faster. The puppy. "Two. The other human is sleeping," He said, not even realizing he heard the deep, shallow breathing until he'd said it. He was in his element now. Feeding, it was his most basic instinct. How could he go wrong?
Michael shrugged. "Cake, man." Damon wondered what it would take to make him lose his cool. Michael knocked on the door while Damon was behind the doorway, out of view.
Michael gave his best used car salesman grin when the door opened a crack, no chain on that one, as if he wouldn't be able to easily overpower the man. It was the invitation, that one tiny detail that evened it out for the humans, gave them a fighting chance. "I'm sorry to bother you sir," Michael said, his tone making the word "sir" more than just sarcastic, a joke. "But we were working on the gas lines, and it appears that there may be a leak in one of the pipes, so we're just going around to every apartment to make sure that everything's safe and up to scratch." How scripted, right off TV.
"Sure, no problem," the human said, and opened the door. Simple as that. Michael had been right, they were pathetic. The human didn't seem to notice the late hour or that fact that Michael and Damon were wearing regular street clothes. Damon made a mental note to practice his manipulation skills when he had a chance. Here was another vampire trick, more magic that he couldn't handle.
Michael pushed the door the rest of the way and entered. Damon followed and made sure to close the door behind him. Less witnesses to the murder. It chilled him to think like that, except it did less and less, the longer he was in his new form. The puppy ran straight to him, tail wagging. Damon picked him up. Michael brought the man down in the kitchen, grabbing his throat from behind, bending the man backwards in order to sink his teeth in. One muted gasp and it was over. Simple and painless. 
Damon turned away as Michael fed. He wasn't much for watching. "Aren't you going to eat?" Michael asked after a moment, sitting back and wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve. 
Damon nodded, didn't even know what he'd been waiting for. He handed the puppy to Michael, who took it reluctantly and held it out at arm's length. Damon glanced at the pale body on the floor and saw that it was still breathing. He felt better, a little less pressured. It felt obscene being in a house that smelled like chocolate chip cookies, contemplating murder. Damon's hand went to his back pocket and fingered the stiff photo paper as he followed the sound of breathing down a dim hallway with a picture of Jesus at the end, a large yellow halo over his head, his hands in prayer. 
The figure in the bed was in a deep sleep and didn't stir when he walked in. He knew it was a woman because he could smell her fruit scented soap. He closed the door behind him. He took a step closer, and he felt like a pervert. Would he ever be comfortable in his own skin again? Damon swallowed but never for a moment wanted to turn back. The beating wouldn't let him. Instead, he sat on the bed and tried not to look into her face to closely as he pushed her thick hair back. He didn't want another face burned into his memory, another taken life, an innocent victim of circumstance. With his hand this close to her, he could feel the pulsing under her skin. Gone were his feelings, only the hunger remained. Feeding quickly and trying to send her sleepy thoughts to keep her from being afraid, Damon managed to stop before he lost control, stopped before her breath became too shallow. She'd feel under the weather in the morning, he was sure, but she'd survive. She sighed and rolled over when he stood up to leave. There was no heavy guilt on his shoulders when he left the room, and that was a feeling he liked, something he could live with.
Michael was looking in the cabinet under the sink.
"Dog food?" Damon asked, his stomach full, his mood uplifted. 
Michael handed him a bag of kibbles. Puppy food, specially formulated for your pet's growing needs. Damon knelt and poured a little bit of the food onto the carpet for the puppy, who ran out from under the coffee table and started eating.
"Your compassion is killing me," Michael said, as he brushed by Damon towards the front door.
"Hey, man," Damon said from where he was crouching. Michael turned around. "Thanks." It was about time he had someone to say that to.
Michael paused in the doorway and half turned. The grin was back. "Don't mention it." 
Damon watched him enter the hallway then patted the puppy on the head one last time, and followed.

We Call It, "The Meat Market."

The first thing he felt was hot dog breath on his face. "I should've eaten you yesterday," Damon groaned, pushing the dog's face away and sitting up.
"What happened to the master of compassion?" Michael asked, walking out of his bedroom, right on cue. He sat next to Damon on the couch. 
"Isn't there anywhere else I can sleep?" He asked, brushing back the hair in his eyes. The couch was a bitch. It made him miss Lilith's frigid bed.
"Well," Michael said, "There's my bed, but you pretty much ruled that out the first night." Always grinning. Damon was almost tired of it. Michael sat back, stretching his arms out along the back of the couch. He nodded towards a white envelope on the coffee table. "You have some mail."
"Where did that come from?" Damon asked, reaching past matted fur to pick it up.
 "Someone slid it under the door while you were sleeping."
Plain white business sized envelope, no postage. It had his name on it, Damon, that was it. He tried to remember his last name but the memory eluded him. Michael's address. The return address was to a J.D. Corbett to what was most likely an office downtown. It was unsealed and there was nothing inside. "It's empty," he said, looking at Michael.
"It's the address to the next meeting. There's two letters in the first name so that means that meeting is in two nights. It's from Lucas, a safety measure in case anyone else gets their hands on it."
Anyone else meaning Lilith. "Are you going?"
Michael shook his head and stood up. "I wasn't invited. It's addressed to you." He walked to the door. Damon wondered where they were off to, and wished Michael wouldn't rush him around when he had so much to take in. 
"What goes on in these meetings?" He wasn't sure he wanted to be involved with anything going on behind Lilith's back.
Michael put a finger to his lips and put his other hand on the doorknob. "You may want to put that in your pocket," He whispered.
Damon thought better than ask questions, folded the envelope and stuck it in his back pocket. Michael made a show of looking at his watch as he pulled the door open. There was a goddess standing in the doorway. Damon couldn't register it for a moment, and neither could she. Michael was grinning, leaning against the doorframe, proud that he'd completely ruined the element of surprise. Still, Lilith looked impeccable, her pale skin looking translucent against her black clothes, hair down, a pair of sharp black heels. Damon wanted to take her right there on the floor.
She gained her composure before he did. "Nice trick," she said, and then put her hands on her hips. "Let's go."
Damon didn't know whether to be relieved or angry, but he didn't move.
"Finally come to claim your possessions?" Michael asked, his smile gone. He didn't look like his easy going self anymore. His body was tense. It was then that Damon knew that they had some sort of a history together. This wasn't just third party hatred, Michael had known first hand Lilith's abuse.
"You know, Michael, you really should look into hiring some help," Lilith said, looking like she was seething inside. She wasn't a fan of him, either. 
Mutual hatred. Interesting, but the last thing he needed. Damon stood up to go. 
"You know what, Lilith? Now that you mention it, I think I did have a cleaning lady. I must've misplaced her." Michael pretended to think, pressing a finger to his chin. Damon grinned but suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. "Oh yeah, that's right, I remember. I ate her."
Damon couldn't hold it. He let out a laugh and then clamped his hand over his mouth. Lilith didn't find it funny. She just turned and walked out of the door. Damon started to follow but felt guilty for some reason. His eyes met Michael's.  
"Don't worry," Michael said, as he closed the door behind the two of them, "I'll take care of the dog." Damon couldn't help but smile. 
While she was halfway down the hall when he turned, Lilith stopped to let him catch up, holding out her hand. It was clammy. And it was the little bug in his ear that woke up at the sight of the sheer fabric. Except he couldn't decide whether he wanted her naked or bleeding, but possibly both. He pulled her closer, the days he spent with Michael slipping from his mind, replaced with only need. He felt like he couldn't have lived another day without smelling her. It wasn't perfume she wore, it seemed like pure lust. The distinct smell of that soft spot of skin at the base of her neck was that he loved. She seemed to know what he had in mind, and pulled out of his arms.
Lilith didn't speak, although he would've given anything to hear it, until they'd left the building and walked onto the sidewalk. "I missed you," she said, her voice barely above the freezing wind. Her stoicism frightened him.  Damon wasn't sure what to say, and he didn't want to incriminate himself, so they walked most of the way in silence with Damon periodically looking at her sideways to admire how beautiful she looked in the moonlight. Just like that, all was forgiven. He would've died for her right then. She turned her head, met his eyes, smiled with the corner of her mouth. It was all he needed. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into a dark alley. "We're almost home," she said, but didn't push him away. 
Tasting her was better than sex.  Her body quickly relaxed against his but began to pull away when she decided that he'd had enough. He turned his head to the side, eternally playing the submissive with her, but she just took his hand and pulled him after her. She looked both ways as they emerged and, finding nothing to alarm her, headed home.
As soon as they entered the apartment and the door was closed behind them, Damon grabbed her again. 
She spoke first. "I never want to send you away again," she said. He tried not to examine her words too closely.
"I'll never leave you," he said, his voice hoarse in his own ears. She pulled away first and took off her jacket, draping it over a chair. Damon thought about his dog of all things. He hadn't even had a chance to name him. 
"I regret that you had to stay with Michael, although I wasn't surprised when I heard he took you in. Extraordinary powers, if you believe them to be true, but that personality? That attitude? He's . . . unfortunate." She walked by him headed towards the bedroom. "If he sought you out, might be something interesting in your future." She turned. Not good necessarily, just interesting.  "Did he mention anything?"
"No."
She continued walking towards the bedroom. "What did you two do?"
He shrugged, trying to look innocent. Had she looked into his thoughts while he was feeding? "We just hung out."
"He didn't introduce you to any of his friends?" She asked. 
Damon didn't miss a beat. "No, we just stayed in for the most part."
Once in the bedroom Lilith started taking off her clothes, her back still to him. First her skirt fluttered to the floor then she lifted the black shirt over her head and kicked off her heels. Damon put his hands on her naked waist and pulled her close. Lilith froze, as if she didn't know what to do. Did she fault him for clinging to his human life by clinging on to what other men couldn't? She turned her head and Damon kissed her neck, tempted to bite her again but didn't. He just wanted to pull her down on the bed. 
 "I want to show you something," she said. 
Damon had no interest in seeing anything else. He'd seen enough for an entire lifetime. "Unless it's something in that bed, I don't want to see it." 
She sighed as his hands ran up and down her body. She liked it. "I want you to understand me," she whispered. 
 He smelled her hair. "I understand you."
 "I need you on my side." This was the first time he'd ever heard her voice soft, yielding. 
 "Any way you want it," he whispered into her hair. 
 "Damon, I don't know if I can do this."
 "How long has it been?" He asked her. It was unbelievable.
 "Decades." Damon reached down and unzipped his pants. They fell to the floor. "A century," she whispered. He liked the way she felt against his skin. But then, at once, he could feel the atmosphere in the air change, the small warmth they have made between their bodies was gone, and her skin was cold. He got a chill. "The last time it was my brother," she said. "He raped me and led me to become who I am." 
 Damon stopped moving. She pulled out of his grasp and the only thing that remained was her scent, a mix that he could only describe as blood and lavender. 
 "I'm sorry," He said, pulling up his pants, feeling like he was the one who'd killed her. He wanted to know more, but suspected that it wasn't a good time. He needed to change the subject, gain some more points with her. She opened her closet. "What did you want to show me?" He asked, walking to the doorway of her dressing room, hoping to regain the mood, as she slipped on a pair of black pants. 
"Something to get your blood lust flowing," she said after she'd put on a shirt. What a shame. "I think it's important that you see it." She put on a pair of heels, black, one of the hundred that she owned and were lined across the bottom of her dressing room. 
 "Don't those kill your feet?" He asked, although the thought of seeing her in anything else was comical. 
"I'm already dead," she said, "What's pain?"

Damon smelled the blood up the street, a block before the building even came into view. He wasn't hungry, Lilith's blood kept strong enough to last him two days if it needed to. But the animal in him always took over, and he couldn't think about anything but getting closer. He didn't care anymore about what she had to show him, about sides in the war, he just wanted to see what smelled like a feast. It wasn't until they were in front of the blood splattered iron door that Damon realized that he could also smell fear. It was an interesting scent (eat), like adrenaline and sweat, life and death, dying. It was almost as if he could smell screams in the air. He would normally have thought (eat) something like that would sicken him, but tonight it made the blood stir in this veins, his heart almost start beating. He felt human for a split second, then afterwards, never more like an animal. Lilith looked at him with a cocky half smile as they approached the door. 
"What is this place?" Damon whispered. Her smile developed fully. It was beautiful. He wanted to tear her apart and it was the strangest feeling of adoration he'd ever had. He was sure she felt the same way. It certainly would explain everything.
 "We call this the meat market," she said as she unlocked the door with a key from her key ring. Before he could ask for an explanation, she pushed the door open and Damon walked into a living nightmare.
 The building must've been soundproof because as soon as they door opened Damon's ears were filled with the screams he had smelled outside, screams so piercing he almost wanted to cover his ears. He looked at Lilith with panic in his eyes. He'd been trying not to show her any weakness, but that scream was the most chilling sound he'd heard in his life, and he didn't have to remember his life to know it.
"There's nothing to be afraid of when you're the top of the food chain," Lilith said, then laughed. She had a wild look in her eyes. If she hadn't been an animal before, she was an animal now, a full fledged member of the feline family. Fuck vampire. Lilith was a panther. Before them was what Damon would describe as a torture device, but was really a killing machine. Over one story high, it was a massive structure that made Damon want to crawl into the fetal position and block it from his memory. A naked man was strapped to it by his hands and feet, silent now. It was his scream Damon had heard. A male vampire with long hair had slit his throat and the blood was streaming out of the wound. Damon couldn't tear his eyes from the wound even as he followed Lilith around the machine. What he really wanted to do was go up and lick it clean. Under the platform the blood was being funneled to an assembly line where people were catching the flow of blood into old milk bottles. The steady beating from the lower level told Damon that these people were human. They were dirty and looked full of lice and seemed as if they weren't being fed much of anything. The place wasn't going to give him bloodlust, it was going to give him nightmares. Damon had no idea how Lilith thought that this sight was what was going to make a difference in his feelings, how he'd be able to join her side and promote this. 
 "How can they work here?" He asked.
 Lilith snickered as she led him past the machine. He wanted to slap that look off her face. "Work? They're slaves. Missing people, drug addicts, kept alive until they're harvested. We distribute the blood to our kind." She turned and met his eyes, "Some for small favors. This is power in a society that values nothing else." 
 "Why did you bring me here?" Damon asked, tearing his eyes away from the violence because Lilith had moved on. Behind the killing machines were others behind it, at least five others he could see. He'd never remembered seeing a building this big in the city. It seemed to go on several football fields. He wondered how Lilith was able to hide her crimes in the middle of a war zone, just miles away from Lucas's office. It was a slap in the face. A few machines were manned by vampires or humans, but others were entirely automatic, systematically decapitating its victims guillotine style. The room was repeatedly filled with abruptly ended screams. 
She followed his gaze. "This is my work." 
"This bloodbath?" Her smile was gone in an instant. Was this where she came everyday? No wonder she was the most evil figure in history. Well, in Damon's personal history. 
 "This bloodbath is our survival." She started walking through the center isle of machines. Damon followed but could barely hear her through the screams. "I know you don't understand yet, but you will." She was headed towards a door that, as they got closer, opened and out walked the young spiky haired man that Damon remembered from Lilith's apartment. The angry one. He looked Damon up and down but didn't smile. Lilith embraced Kris and then turned back to Damon with her arm still around him. Damon didn't like how intimate they looked. "This is Kris," she said in a tone that made Damon think that she owned him too. But then again, it wouldn't surprise him if Lilith talked like this about everything. 
 "Damon," he said, extending his hand in an effort to be friendly. Before Kris could shake it, a jackhammer scream from a middle aged, large chested woman in the machine on their left made them all cover their ears. Damon felt good that he wasn't the only one that did.
"Bitch must've been a fuckin' opera singer," Kris said with a grin once all of their hands were removed from their ears, "Why don't we all go into the office?" Kris said, pointing to the door he'd come through. Kris held the door for them, Lilith entering first. "Its sound proof," Kris said, closing the door behind him. With a giant sucking sound, the door cut through the screaming and left them with only each other.
The office was board room sized with dark wood walls and leather chairs pulled up to a stainless steel conference table that looked more like a butcher's table. "This is where you work?" Damon asked. Lilith's eyes focused on the whiteboard at the head of the room, words there in a language that Damon didn't recognize. 
 "So," Kris said, sitting on a row of cabinets along the back wall. "Welcome to the underground." Damon didn't know what to say. "I bet you didn't think that while you were shooting up . . ."
  "We're doing big things here," Lilith interrupted. Kris looked like he wanted to continue, but looked away instead.
Did they assume that all humans were strung out? Damon had liked to have a good time, but there was more to him than that. What, he couldn't really be sure of, but he gave himself enough credit to know that Kris's exaggerations were a way to make Damon look bad in front of Lilith. They were sitting in an awkward pause in conversation, when a short vampire burst in through a side door, making all of them jump right before Damon had opened his mouth to comment on the weather. The visitor shuffled in looking nervous with his head down, red glistened hair drenched with sweat. He was younger than Damon, probably not older than twenty.
"Edward, what the hell is wrong with you?" Kris asked in a tone of voice that said it wasn't unusual to see Edward puttering around the office and looking like he was about to have a nervous breakdown. 
 Edward had started opening and closing different drawers, looking for something. "They're coming," he said, his voice shaking. "They're taking the building."
"Who?" Lilith asked. 
Kris jumped down from his seat and the tension in his body was clear.
Edward pulled out a cardboard box and began filling it with papers from the bottom shelf. He was distracted but still managed to squeak out a name. "Lucas."
"How do you know this?" Kris demanded, and when the kid's frantic packing didn't pause, he asked again.
The kid stopped and opened his mouth to answer but three other men burst and drew their attention. "We need to get out of here," The one in the lead said. He was dark skinned and his head was slick and bald. They were all wearing street clothes, jeans and t-shirts. Not her usual lackeys in suits. "Lucas says he'll burn this place to the ground."
It seemed they all moved at the same time, heading towards the only other door, the one leading towards the back of the building. Damon noticed that they all seemed to naturally crowd around Lilith, to protect her. Damon, himself, followed as close to her as he could, but that was for fear of his own personal safety. They entered another room that looked like it functioned as a lounge, when it wasn't empty. The place seemed endless. They entered another conference room almost identical to the first. This conference table was made out of heavy mahogany. 
Kris, who'd lead the way through a maze of rooms, suddenly whirled around and stopped them all. "How do we even know all of this is true?" He asked, his face red.
The men looked at each other, babbling. None of them could come up with a coherent response. Damon saw that Kris's hand tighten on a handle of something just under the top of the conference table. Before Damon could even begin to guess what it was, Kris pulled out a blade with a movement so fast that Damon couldn't follow it with his eyes, didn't see the ornate dragon handle or comprehend the enormity and weight of the sword until after the arc was complete and there was the bald headed man's body, still standing, with its head gone, blood gushing like a busted fire hydrant, first hitting the low ceiling and then receding. When the body slumped to the side, blood splattered on Damon's shoes. He couldn't help but think of the old school Ninja flicks he used to catch on late night TV. Except for the blood. They're not allowed to show blood gushing from decapitated bodies on TV. He felt the restraint in the room, that they could easily all be licking the blood off the floor, from the wound, fighting over the body.  There was silence but Kris's anger still remained.
Kris walked passed the bald head rolling across the floor and grabbed another man, young with blonde hair, by his collar and slammed him against the wall so hard that the floor seemed to shake and a crack formed in the sheet rock. Dust flew everywhere. But before Kris could even question him, there was a loud explosion and the building shook. From where he stood, Damon saw Kris's face drop. They were all too stunned to move.
Kris turned his head and looked at Lilith. "They were telling the truth."
Lilith opened her mouth but before she could reply another explosion rocked the building, knocking them back to their senses. This time no one crowded around Lilith, and she would've fallen, her heels slipping in the blood, had Damon not caught her by the waist and helped her through a storage room and out the back door. 
She didn't want to stay to see the building fall to rubble, although a few who escaped, Kris included, stood out in front of the fire, letting their rage build until it seemed that they would destroy anything they put their hands on. Lilith went silently into the limo that pulled up to the back alley, her driver forever diligent, and they were two blocks away when the remains exploded and seemed to make a crater in the earth. She didn't speak when they arrived back at the apartment and Damon was too afraid to say anything, knowing that her silence was a result of her rage, her insanity, but not sadness. He wondered how long Lucas had known about the meat market, how long it had taken him to destroy it, and if he'd purposely waited for Damon to see its demise. It seemed impossible that someone would be unafraid of Lilith's revenge. He was curious about Lucas, but most of all, he pitied his stupidity.

Love is life.
Love is everything.

2.

Luna.
"I'm fine," She said into the phone, trying to be on time for once in her life.  She slipped a sneaker on, "100 percent, completely, absolutely, peachy fucking keen." She caught herself just as the last word left her lips, and she slapped her palm to her forehead much harder than she'd intended to with an audible slap, and cursed some more in her head at being so careless. "I'm sorry," she said in the following silence. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I'm just a little stressed. I've got to go, though. I'm going to be late for work. I love you." She hung up the phone, disgusted, and sat there, looking at her hands before motivating herself to get up for her jacket. She knew her Mom was sensitive and still, like an ass, she ended up putting her foot in her mouth.
Adrienne left her bedroom, sweats on and her curly blonde hair on a heap on her head, and sat down on the coach. Luna knew she'd been waiting for the yelling to be over. 8:03 and her favorite show had already started. "Your Mom getting on you again?"
 "No," Luna said, knowing it was obvious that she was lying. She felt her face getting pink. 
"Oh," Adrienne said, her eyes on the TV. The light from it made her face reflect a Martian green.  
"I've got to get to work. I'll see you later."
"Bye," Adrienne said in a hollow voice.
Luna began hugging herself as soon as the cold air hit her. Winter had been long that year, with no end in sight. The sun rarely broke through the clouds, and she couldn't remember what it was like to be fully thawed. She was just glad that the diner was at the end of the block, although it didn't offer her much opportunity to see the rest of the city.
Lou gave her a dirty look from behind the counter when she walked in three minutes late. Good thing he didn't know how close she lived, he could practically stop by and rattle her out of bed. But he'd grown to expect her lateness and he let her go behind the counter and tie on her apron without making her cry about it. Luna loved the diner just as much as Lou, and if she could, she'd work their until she was eighty and became a landmark, part of the décor, like the plaque mounted on the wall of the third booth back commemorating the occasion of Elvis sitting, and masticating, like some normal Joe - Shmo in 1969, before Luna's existence was even thought of. It was the cool factor that made her love working there, the fact that it had been a diner since before even her mother was born. It was small but not cramped, and ancient to her. 
Table one was taken by a trucker taking a break from driving, a tall block of a man who didn't talk much so and wasn't much good for conversation or stories of the road, like most of them were. He just sat and read the paper, his only request being for her to refill his cup when it got low. He was polite and like most of the people who wandered in after the dinner crowd and before the night clubs closed. Table six was occupied by regulars, a couple who had recently celebrated their golden wedding anniversary. They came in at least once a week and ordered the exact same thing.  Good tippers, reliable for relaying how the weather outside was, and proof that it was possible to spend your entire life with someone. 
Luna took in the quiet atmosphere and sighed mentally. She was doing okay for her twenty four years on earth, she was on her own, had a steady job, no man tying her down, a goldfish that needed her. She had the rest of her life to figure out what she wanted to do when she grew up. What didn't help was that most of her friends from back home were both married and starting families or in college. Her mother kept her posted on what went on in the neighborhood, just to remind Luna how different she was, and always would be from the kids she grew up with. She'd tried the college, but after a few boring semesters that failed to excite her interest, she decided she just wasn't cut out for college, and a general degree in Humanities wasn't going to get her anywhere in life. 
 And as for getting married, Mason had taken care of that. She still regretted giving him the ultimatum. But after giving him five years of her life, she'd come to the point where she needed something to show for it. She'd begun to feel used and all she'd wanted was to feel legitimate. It was the one thing she'd ever asked him for, and a week later he'd moved out and stopped returning her phone calls. She'd gone from trying to be assertive, to crying and pleading. Then she saw the engagement notice in the paper. It had taken up half a page. And hadn't that been great when her friend from back home, Joy, had shown it to her over their monthly get together of high school friends. Luna had to pretend she hadn't cared but at least made it to the bathroom before breaking down. Then, having to excuse herself with bloodshot eyes, she stopped calling her friends from back home. She hadn't seen them since.
 Luna knew she needed to learn forgiveness, needed to forget it ever happened. But he'd made that impossible. The wedding invitation sat in her mailbox, a white envelope with her name written in bubble girl hand writing written in PINK gel pen ink glaring at her and providing an answer to every question in her mind of whether or not Mason had been seeing someone else. The answer was yes, and he'd been waiting for any chance to break up with Luna, he'd just lingered out of pity. For a week it lay in her mailbox, Luna treating it like a live wire, and closing the lid to it every time, and then for two days it had sat on her coffee table with RETURN TO SENDER written on it in black eyeliner. Eventually after two glasses of wine, Luna grabbed it and ripped it up, flushed it down the toilet, deciding that she wasn't the marriage type either and she'd have to deal with it just like she'd deal with college. Pretend it wasn't an option. God had a plan. She just hadn't figured out what it was yet.
Luna was pouring the trucker cup number three and wondering if anyone would ever find her attractive again, when the door of the diner slammed open. Everyone jumped, and looked up at the group that entered. The three of them all looked like models from the magazines that Luna knew she shouldn't read because they warp her self image but bought anyway. The first to walk in was a man in his late twenties with styled wavy brown hair and hazel eyes and wearing a button down long sleeved striped shirt which included the color pink, clean jeans, and unscuffed black shoes. Gay, was Luna's first reaction, he was too hot to be straight. He headed to the table furthest away from the door. The woman who entered after him had beautiful long black hair to her waist and such pale skin that Luna automatically felt self-conscious about her own brown eyes and mousy brown hair that was just barely past her shoulders. Why couldn't she have been born with such a smooth, flawless complexion? 
The man who entered last almost stopped Luna's heart completely. He was about the same age with spiky dirty blonde hair and the purest blue eyes Luna had ever seen. She tried not to stare. Who were they? When she had the nerve to look back, she saw his blue eyes pause to look her up and down with a half smile on his face. She blushed despite herself and averted her eyes, pretended to be busy cleaning the counters. She prayed to God that he'd ask her for her phone number. When she looked back, "blue eyes" was whispering in a corner with the other two beautiful people. He couldn't have been interested, she'd misinterpreted the look. Luna wished she'd worn a skirt, anything would've been more fashionable than an old polo and jeans, but knew she was kidding herself. She hadn't worn anything other than jeans in over a year.
Luna waited a good three minutes before approaching them because they'd already walked in looking like they owned the place, and she suspected that she'd soon grow to hate them because, if no other reason, they were too beautiful to be her friends.  They were silent by the time she made her way over, small novelty sized notepad in hand.
"Hi, I'm Luna," she said, to start out, trying not to stare directly at big blue eyes.
"Hi, Luna. Pretty name," he said, his arms extending over the arms of the booth. He was seated alone on his side of the booth. The other two were cramped for arm room.  
"Thanks," she said, not sure if she should pick up the conversation, or if he even cared about the translation of her name. "What can I get you?" She asked, having the courage to take on the aquamarine color and feeling as if she could melt.
He smiled, no prefect teeth this time. "I think we'll just have some coffee. We're still waiting for someone."
"Coffee? That's it?" His friends shook their heads, looking amused, almost stifling laughter. She guessed the joke was on her and her plain clothes. Why hadn't she put some mousse in her hair? It would've only taken a second. 
 They remained silent, the other man drumming his fingers on the tabletop, as they watched her return with cups and a coffee pot. "So, what are you guys up to tonight?" She asked as she poured the coffee. Since she generally started small talk with most of the customers, she told herself she wasn't prying. 
"So far this evening has proven to be uneventful, but hopefully things will change once our friend arrives," Said "blue eyes," watching her. She could feel his eyes on her. Something about his gaze made her feel special but uneasy. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad.
She finished pouring. "Can I get you guys anything else?"
"No thanks, Luna." He was only one who'd spoken. 
She went back to waiting on her other tables. While she was bringing out her new table's food, a pair of newlyweds who couldn't keep their hands off each other, and who depressed Luna immensely, the door opened and Luna almost dropped her plate because out of the corner of her eye, the door appeared to have opened by itself. A man wearing sunglasses walked in and seated himself in the back corner. He was older than the other three, but he was well dressed and clean. They appeared excited and began talking amongst themselves. Luna, curious, set herself to clean the table right behind theirs but she couldn't hear more than hisses no matter how close she got. They were silent when she walked over to give them the check. 
Minutes later they stood up together, and Luna felt her heart sink when she saw them walk out. For some reason she'd expected something more exciting to happen from their presence. She was disappointed that she hadn't been able to say anything more to "blue eyes" before he'd walked out of her life. Not that she'd known what to say, she was a disaster with men, but it would've been a welcome change to have had a really good looking guy try to get her phone number. 
Next to the bill, which had the exact change on top of it, was a fifty dollar bill with a couple of business cards on top of it. All of the coffee cups had gone untouched. She glanced at the doorway, which was empty, to make sure there hadn't been a mistake. Then she picked up the bill and put it in her back pocket. On closer inspection she saw that the business cards were just promotional V.I.P. passes to some kind of club. Maybe "blue eyes" had been interested. Or maybe they were just promoters. She put the cards in her back pocket and forgot about them, debating on spending her fantastic tip on bills, or a new pair of shoes. 

Two Days. 

Damon rolled over and squinted at the glowing red numbers on the nightstand, sighed. He was a tangle of black hair and rose colored cashmere sheets. Waking in the daylight reminded him of hangovers. He sat up and wiped his hands down his face. The blonde lump beside him in the king size bed stirred and squinted up at him. 
"What are you doing?" She asked. "It's still light out."
 "Some things are more important than sleep," He said, sounding unconvincing even to himself.
"Where are you going?" Her eyes, which he could barely see because of the mass of hair that covered them, were closed again and she was falling back asleep. Looking at her this vulnerable made him ask the same question that had been bothering him for weeks. Why was he trying to sabotage himself? Would his lies be worth it?
"Meeting up with some friends," he said, slipping out of bed. "No need to worry your pretty little head about it." He kept his eyes on the bed even as he left it, because he could never predict her temper. She opened her eyes and glared at him despite the strong daylight that seeping in through the blinds. She watched him get dressed silently. "I was joking," he said. Her look made him remember why he was doing it. Because she was a cold heartless bitch who deserved to be by herself. 
Lilith settled back into the bed a bit. "You joke when you're nervous."
Damon rolled is eyes with his back towards her. What the hell did she know about him, anyway? He sat down on the edge of the bed to put on his socks and shoes. "Why would I be nervous?"
"Damon," she said, her voice turned cold. "Where are you going?" Damon knew it was a bad sign when she repeated herself. Before he could think of a reply, something dawned in her face. "Oh," she said, "I know where you're going. I saw that envelope in the trash. That's where you're going."
Damon narrowed his eyes and turned to see the smug look on her face. "Why were you going through my garbage?"
"First of all," she said, raising herself onto one elbow and exposing a white breast, "This is my home, so that makes it my garbage, not your garbage. Second of all, I didn't go through anything. I had someone go through it for me. How the hell else am I going to know what you're up to? You aren't telling me anything."
He stood up and left the room, saying over his shoulder, "Don't you ever relax? You can't possibly control the entire world."
She leaned forward, watching him through the doorway, "I'll tell you what I can control," she started, but then stopped with a smile on her face.
He came back to the doorway, getting annoyed with the conversation that had been becoming more and more frequent over the past few weeks. "Lilith, a meeting downtown is not something you can control."
Lilith brushed her hair off of her shoulder. He knew she was trying to distract him but his eyes were still drawn to the two imperceptible puncture wounds he knew were there. "You don't have the appetite for breakfast?" She asked him.
He felt the blood under her skin from across the room, and was on the bed before he realized it. It was the fantasy that she fed to him, that when his fangs were in her, he was the one in the control, that he could tear her apart if he wanted to. The problem was that once he was inside her mind, he didn't want to. She overcame him easily when her blood flowed into his mouth. It was a feeling he'd come to recognize in the past months and it made him increasingly uncomfortable. There were many things he wanted to hide from her, thoughts and memories he forced into the back of his mind, behind the mental block he'd created. He'd been able to control himself, pull away when he felt she was getting too close to discovering his secrets. He could feel her there, like a spider skittering in his brain. 
When he pulled away, she lay back down on the bed and stretched out, her nails looking like claws in the glaring daylight. Damon rose to leave, finally awake. 
"Damon," she said, pulling the sheets back over her body, "Let Lucas know that just because he's gotten you under his brainwash, doesn't mean that I will release my hold on this city." She closed her eyes. "I would sacrifice you in a heartbeat if it kept our species from taking its rightful place." He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to incriminate himself. There was no way that she knew for sure. No way for her to know how far his deceptions had lead him. But secrets were liable to crush him. It needed to end soon. Lilith rolled over so that her back was facing him. "Make sure you lock the door behind you."

 
Damon took his seat among the other men. Lucas sat at the head of the table, like a king. They were silent and perfectly still, five beautiful statues waiting for their leader to speak.  Damon wondered how he'd gotten this deep since he saw that Lucas was just like Lilith, really. There wasn't much a difference except that Lilith wanted to kill every living thing in her path. 
Lucas' voice was deliberate, sudden. "I have never seen our species this split. Here we are, all trying to work towards a common goal, but if we in this room, the leaders of our respective communities, cannot come to an agreement, a defense against this common evil is impossible. There have always been rumors of revolution, but I never thought that it would come to this." He paused and looked at every one of them. "It is time to enforce the laws that were written thousands of years ago."
It was still unbelievable to Damon that there could be five men in a room and no sounds of breathing. He knew the men were on edge, those who have controlled the secrecy and stability of their species. He'd learned much about his world by attending the meetings. They allowed him to come because they wanted information. Damon attended because he wanted to stop the harvesting of innocent humans. He helped organize and participated in rallies against the ill treatment of humans, but he refused to give them information pertaining to Lilith specifically. In private Lucas had given Damon his word that Lilith would not be harmed, and while he didn't want Lilith dead, he was not above giving dates, locations and times that he was privy to by living with their enemy. Would he ever sell them out to Lilith? Never. 
"How are you planning on achieving that? Are you going to create a vampire police team?" asked Marius clasped his hands in front of him on the table, dressed in his usual Armani suit.
"These nightclubs will be shut down, and all humans involved will be harvested to ensure secrecy," Lucas said, and as usual, no emotion in his face.
"I thought we were through with this black market nonsense," said Theo, a dark skinned vampire whose accent Damon could not place.
Lucas shrugged. "Food for the homeless, for incapacitated, for human blood banks for all I care. What else can we do? We can't in good faith let these humans roam around after what they've witnessed firsthand in our world. We can take out individuals like we always have, sure, but how would we handle hundreds of humans coming forward with their own accounts? There would be no more denying it. There would be chaos."
"The human government will never admit their knowledge of us, things will die down, they always do," said another man, usually quiet, who everyone refers to as Wilshire. Damon didn't know if this was first name or a last name.
Andrew sat forward in his seat. "And how do you think people will react to an invasion of their privacy?" This question was one raised in one form or another, every month. Andrew lived and associated with the type of people who frequented those places, just like Damon did, and he seemed to be on the fence whether or not he wanted a change.
Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Some things must be sacrificed to preserve our way of life."
"You think they'll be submissive to these changes?" Andrew asked. Damon noted that he was wearing a black and pink pinstriped Versace suit with a pair of white Pumas.
Lucas sat back in his chair and shrugged. He was the kind of man who commanded attention, and had been an unofficial leader of their species in the States for as long as anyone could remember, at least those who Damon had asked. Damon had asked around. Until recently, an unofficial leader had sufficed. It was up in the air now whether or not the need for a democracy was called for. To the people at the rallies, it was essential. To the men in the room, it was a deconstruction of their society. Consensus was impossible, everyone had too much at stake. "Gentlemen, there is no possible way to please everyone. The time for deliberation is up. Now is the time for action. Damon?"
Damon jumped a bit at the mention of his name. Two of the other men snickered, Andrew from next to him, Marius from across the table. Damon ignored them. "Yes?"
"I need from you names and places. I have heard she's restructuring, that the meat market is being rebuilt under the city."
Damon hesitated because as much as he wanted to help, they had no idea how dangerous it was inside that house. "Lucas, I'm glad to help but she's starting to suspect something's going on. She knew that we'd met but, I think she'd just assumed that I've been attending the rallies." And he had been. He'd also helped, taken the mic when the occasional speaker didn't show, overcoming his human stage fright and speaking of their overcoming the resistance. He'd scouted locations and set up the sound systems. "But things are changing. She saw the envelope and she knows that we're here, right now." There were a few uncomfortable shifting in their seats and glances at the door, which was metal and still shut. "She's not letting me come along on her runs. I've told you about all the files she keeps at home, but I don't think there's much else I can do."
Lucas didn't respond, seemed to be considering his comment. 
"Maybe we should torch Kris's club," Theo offered. "Shake the bitch up a bit."
"No," Damon said, "We're not doing anything like that."
"I agree," Lucas began. "That will only make us more enemies in the community. I suspect that on any given night, if that club were to burn down, one of you four would be inside of it."
Silence, uncomfortable stares. 
"We, of course, are all well aware of where she lives," Andrew began. "We can remove Damon, kill the bitch and move on to Kris."
"Absolutely not," Damon said. "There's got to be another option." That's all he needed, for Lilith to find out that he'd been involved in such a conversation.
"You know, I don't understand you," Marius said standing up and knocking his chair backwards. "You act like you believe in the cause, but yet you don't want to destroy their institutions. How long do you honestly think Lilith can be locked up?" 
"What I don't understand is if you live with her, why this is even an issue? Just kill the bitch in her sleep. She must trust you if you sleep right next to her, like you say." Andrew said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
"If we kill her, we're no better," Damon said, wanting nothing more than to kill the four of them and walk out.  Who did they think they were? He was starting to think that there was no such thing as a peaceful society of savages.
"Since you love humans so much," Theo began, and Damon wanted to punch him in his smug face, "Let's take into account an old human saying. How does it go? Oh, yes. You have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet."
Lucas put up a hand to silence everyone. Then he turned to Damon. "We have, in the past, been able to detain criminals, but we have no adequate facilities to keep Lilith locked up. And then, for how long?" He shook his head and gave Damon an unfortunate look. "The only option Lilith has given herself is termination."
Damon slammed his hands down on the table. "I came into this with the understanding that she would not be harmed." He jumped up, infuriated, filled with all of the frustration that had been building up inside of him continually since he'd first met Lucas. He knew the reason why he'd become involved was because of the picture that he carried in his back pocket tucked in next to his secret life. He kept it hidden from Lilith because with all of the control and fear that she held over him, this was his one way to get it all back, even if he had to lie to himself, even if he was putting both causes at stake because when it really came down to it, Damon would rather die than see his mother as cattle. "You gave me your word," Damon said looking straight at Lucas.
"What do you care?" Andrew asked, "Do you really think all of this will turn out for the best? What do you think will happen to you when the truth comes out?"
That's it. They had to die. He didn't care anymore. She'd find out the truth eventually, but he was just doing what he felt was right, it was as simple as that. He found himself lunging across the table at Andrew, fangs first. He cleared it neatly, knocking Andrew out of his chair, but was pulled apart before he could make contact with the throat. He did manage to rip the left sleeve off of his suit jacket, revealing a pink sleeve underneath. Theo was holding him back and Marius had his elbow wrapped around Andrew's throat. He looked mad enough to, as Damon's aunt used to say, spit.
Lucas walked over to Andrew and grabbed his stubbly chin. "You would do right to watch your tongue." He let go of Andrew's face and slapped it so hard that the noise made everyone cringe. There was a red handprint by the time Lucas walked over to Damon. He'd had never seen Lucas commit an act of violence and he was frightened. He took Damon's face in his hand and leaned in close so Damon could look into his unflinching eyes. "You have two days. In two days you tell us what you know. In two days' time, we'll see where your interests really lie." He let go of Damon's face and walked away.
When the hands holding him loosened, Damon straightened his clothes and left. 

Harvesting. Human Feelings. Crucifix Burns.

The first thing Damon saw once he stepped out into the street was Michael illuminated under a street lamp, but still not much more than a shadow. "What are you doing here?" He was learning that his friend was likely to show up anywhere. 
"I found myself in the neighborhood and I waited." 
"Oh," Damon said. He still wasn't used to Michael's ability, although he no longer doubted it existed.
"How was it?" Michael asked walking along side Damon on the sidewalk.
He shrugged. "The same as always." He'd tried to keep the details from Michael but for all he knew, Michael tuned in every week and knew more than he did. "Hey, you think you could let me in on how this is all going to turn out?"
Michael hesitated. "Let me ask you something first. If I told you, do you think that you would try to change it?"
"I don't know," Damon said, and it was the truth.
Michael sighed. "The one thing I know about you is that you're pretty good about following your instincts, and if I were going to give you advice, I know that you'll do what you think is best regardless. So, I could tell you how it'll turn out, but if things are going to be exactly the same, why not let it be a surprise?"
Damon couldn't help but smile. Michael was blowing off the question. His dad used to do that. But it didn't matter because Damon didn't want to know the future. He noticed the glass on the sidewalk and slowed a bit. "Maybe we should backtrack and cross over a few blocks." He'd had all the confrontation he could handle.
Michael stopped. "Now really, what is there to be afraid of?"
Damon smiled because Michael was right. Damon caught up with his stride. "Nothing. There's nothing to be afraid of." The back of his mind brought up the names Lilith and Lucas. How did he manage to piss off the two most prevalent figures in vampiric society?
Michael just grinned. A human crossed the street ahead of him. "You hungry?" 
"Slow down," Damon said and then changed his mind, stopping dead in his tracks and pulling Michael's jacket sleeve so he'd do the same. "Look," Damon breathed. Then scanned the scene and then Michael seemed to see it. A flash of green in the shadows, eyes, like an animals, able to see clearly in the dark. It was a trap, the spider waiting in its web. Damon, who had the feeling that he was about to see something obscene, backed up a few steps but Michael grabbed his shirt and held him there, never taking his eyes off the scene. 
The human walked up to the vampire with no hesitation whatsoever. Damon almost took his footsteps for heartbeats because they were hesitant and erratic. It wasn't until the human started speaking that Damon understood why. 
"Hey, uh," the human started hoarsely, "Johnny said you got what I need."
A junkie. Damon could see the white-toothed grin of the vampire as he looked down the street to make sure that they were alone. His eyes fixed in their direction a bit longer then needed, but then he turned back to the human. "I got everything, man. What you need?"
The human paused as if he'd forgotten what he'd come for. He looked up and down the street but didn't see Damon and Michael standing in the shadows of an awning. "Just a couple a Kaps," he said finally, scratching and pawing at the side of his head. Withdrawals.
Michael looked at Damon, his eyebrows drawn together. "PCP, I think, or methamphetamines," He said. Michael nodded. After college and a career in the music industry, Damon had a B.A. in illicit substances. He was surprised that he still remembered his human life with how immersed he'd become in his new culture, but he clung to the random memories that popped up, playing them over and over in his mind.  Damon ran a hand through his hair. Itchy, he was itchy again.  
The vampire nodded. "Sure man, I got you covered." He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a little baggie. "I think this is what you had in mind." He held it out to the addict but snatched it away before he could touch it. "How much you got for me?"
The human stammered. He was wanting it bad, nearing a breakdown. Damon scratched the back of his neck. Yeah, he remembered those times when all you could think about was another hit. He licked his lips. 
"Johnny said fifty."
"Alright. This is your first time so I'll let you slide. Fifty." Damon knew what was coming. Next time was seventy five. The human lowered his head and dug into his back pocket, and the vampire dropped the baggie. It took a heartbeat for the vampire to sink his fangs into the junkie's neck. 
"Nice," Michael said as he turned to leave back in the direction that they had come.
"Hold on," Damon said, because there was a car pulling up to the curb. The vampire had draped the human over his arm and was approaching the back passenger side door. It no longer appeared to be an ordinary drug deal. The vampire opened the back door and tossed the unconscious human into it. Then he closed the door, picked up the baggie and put it back in his pocket.
"Quick and painless, huh?" Damon said half jokingly.
"What the hell was that all about?" Michael asked, sounding just as surprised as Damon was. 
"I don't know," Damon said, trailing off because the faux drug dealing vampire was waving them over.
"Hey," The vampire said as they approached, "You let Lilith know that we're doing a good job down here, okay?" Damon nodded but was speechless. "You tell her we're getting good hits and if we had, like, three more guys in this area, we could triple our harvesting." There were headlights approaching and the vampire took a few steps away. "Back to work," he said with a grin and walked over to the corner sidewalk where the new human had pulled up in a beat up Chevy Impala.
Something was dawning on Damon as he and Michael retraced their steps. Now he knew how Lilith managed to abduct so many humans without anyone noticing. Addicts were usually lost people, anyway. Who would notice? They went missing all the time. It would be easy to keep them drugged and half conscious while running the machinery at the meat markets or whatever horrific chores that needed to be done. 
 "Did you have any idea?" Michael asked.
Damon shook his head "No, but it makes sense now."
Michael nodded. "Yeah, it does. You gonna tell Lucas?"
Michael was always asking him moral questions, as if he found the whole situation interesting. Entertaining. "I don't know." 
They walked the rest of the way in silence. It wasn't until they reached Michael's apartment and Damon was ready to head home and talk to Lilith that it suddenly occurred to him to ask Michael what was now obvious. "You didn't know about any of this?"
Michael shook his head. "No. Strange, isn't it?"
Damon started backing up down the street knowing that he was running short on time before the sun came up, and he needed to eat. "I'll see you later, buddy," he said. Michael nodded in a distracted way as he headed up the steps to his apartment.

The perfume was what drew him, her short skirt is what decided it. She wore a pair of black heels, but they were old and scuffed up. Street meat.
"How much?" He asked, amused with himself at playing the game. He'd never had the nerve to pick up a hooker when he was alive. Had thought about it, but never had the balls. 
She walked over, looked him up and down, scratching the back of her neck. "Forty bucks, all the way. You got a car or something?"
He shook his head and reached into his pocket. He didn't remember how much money he had on him. "No, no car."
"Alright," she said, and crossed the sidewalk over to him, closer to the alley. "You want it all, baby?"
He'd never been with a black girl before. "I only have thirty," He said.
Her glazed over eyes looked up and down the street as she scratched the inside of her arms absentmindedly. "Alright, thirty. But you got ten minutes, and I'm checking my watch. Time is money, sugar." She was walking towards the shadows. He watched her walk. Yes, that was the way to go.  Once they were in the dark she fumbled around until she found the wall and then faced him. "You got protection?" 
"No," Damon said.
She found a condom in her purse and then remembered something. "Money first, baby." 
He handed it to her, and she turned her back to him, hiking up her skirt. She pressed against him and he figured he'd better get on with it before he got too excited. 
"What's your name?" He whispered, didn't know why, because he was afraid of what he was trying to hold back, control.
"Whatever you want it to be."  She paused. "Bambi, like the deer. Now let's get on with it." 
 It was interesting feeling her struggle against him. But it was only for thirty seconds, he counted to himself in his head, before her body went limp and he had to hold her up. Afterwards when she was lying in a rain puddle, he bent down to retrieve his money from her grip but changed his mind and left.
 The route back home led him past Kris's club and since he had so much information on his mind and Lilith would soon be heading home because of the ungodly hour, so he decided to stop in to see if Lilith was still there. The thought of abducting addicts, who were such easy targets, sickened him. He now knew that it was possible to feed off humans without hurting them, letting them go on with their lives, without even knowing that they'd been violated. It was wrong to kill humans unnecessarily. 
The doorman with the platinum fangs let Damon in immediately, knew him as a face of importance for fear of Lilith's wrath.  He was surprised to find that he recognized the music shaking the walls. Metallica, Enter Sandman. Nice song choice. He made his way around the dance floor, scanning the crowd but knowing that Lilith was most likely behind the velvet curtain that separated her from the others, mostly unclothed, on the main floor. Humans died horribly there. Upstairs, they were served neatly on little platters like sushi and drained into crystal glasses. 
He found the VIP lounge, but there were only a few people milling around and no one he knew. He eyed the red drinks at the bar but walked past them. He knew she had to be around there somewhere. She usually met with her men at the end of the night.  He spotted a small corridor he'd never noticed before, a small cove beside the bar. No one tried to stop him as he made his way over.  He was tempted to call her name when he saw all of the beaded curtained doors lining the hallway, but didn't want to draw attention to the fact that he didn't belong there. They could be offices or bedrooms for all he knew. He heard nothing from the passing rooms as he made his way to the end of the hall where lights glinted behind a beaded curtain. He saw movement as he got closer so he did his best to quiet his steps, not really sure why, but having the feeling that he may need to back up quietly to avoid discovery. He looked through the spaces between the beads, which remained still and silent with no breath to stir them.
He saw Lilith's face over Kris's shoulders. She was sitting on the edge of a desk with her hands around him, her fangs sunk in Kris's neck. Damon pulled back the curtains, alerting them of his presence, and waited for them to pull away. Lilith raised her eyes but didn't remove her teeth from his flesh. When he realized that she wouldn't move, he stopped caring. Damon ripped them apart with the intention of throwing him to the ground but once he saw the blood welling up in his wounds, he allowed his first instinct to take over and sunk his fangs in, finding the neat little holes that Lilith had made. Damon heard the click of Kris's teeth gritting together and was able to feel his anger down to the core. 
Kris's hand reached around and grabbed Damon's hair in a weak grip and started pulling. Damon didn't feel it at first but Kris's grip intensified until Damon was afraid that he'd have a hairless patch in his scalp.  He removed his fangs from Kris's neck, falling short on his goal of draining him dry. She's crossed the line. If Lilith hadn't had time for him, why had she picked up another guy, especially an asshole like Kris? 
Kris slumped down to the ground when Damon released him. He looked at Damon like he wanted to rip him to pieces. His remaining energy only lent enough to raise him on his elbows. 
It hadn't been until he let Kris go that Damon realized that Lilith was giggling and had been giggling since he entered the room. He made his way over to the desk. Without giving a second thought to the fact that he'd never laid an angry hand on a woman, he grabbed her by the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her onto her six inch stiletto heels. They were the same height.  
 "What the fuck's so funny?" Damon asked. He tried to tilt her head to gain access to her throat but her hand clamped onto his jaw and held his face still. He tried to focus on the shimmery pink lip gloss as the image of Lucas' face close to his own flashed into his mind. She didn't speak, just tightened her grip until she broke the skin and he thought his jaw might snap off. He let go. She just pulled his face closer when he tried to pull away, licking the blood that welled up from the scratches. 
Then she said, "Go home." 
Damon opened his mouth to demand what was going on, but Lilith put one finger to her lips to silence him. His anger immediately felt misplaced and deflated. He's been transformed into a child. He looked over to Kris who had pulled himself up onto the white leather couch and was sitting with his legs crossed. He had a smug look on his face despite one shirt collar, which had once been pale blue, was stained red. 
"We're going to talk about this later," Damon said, finding his voice shaky and a bit hoarse.
Lilith rubbed the spot between her eyebrows and nodded. "Go home."
Damon left, confused. He waited until the sun came up, and fell asleep on he couch. Lilith never came home.

Damon was woken up with a kick to the shin. His leg jerked up to his body and he rubbed it with one hand, rubbed his eye with the other. He heard the signature sound of clicking heels on the marble heading south, towards the bedroom. "Where the hell have you been?" 
Lilith was squinting in the pre dusk glare, the blinding light that snuck through the blinds during midday when the sun was parallel with the buildings. Damon walked to the bedroom, limping on the newly injured leg that had once been broken, and stood there in the doorway while she undressed. "Does this seem like the best time to speak with me?" She asked, taking off her jewelry. First the rings, followed by the diamond horseshoe around her neck.
"What's going on, Lilith?" 
"You need to remember," she said, her voice raising itself into the lecture tone that made his eyes want to glaze over, "That you're no longer human. Therefore, you have no right to claim human feelings. Jealousy, love, it's all useless to you now." She walked over to him. "Food. That's all it is. That's all anything is. If I wanted Kris, which I don't, I hate Kris," she said this with so much venom that Damon had to believe it was true. "I could've had him a hundred times over, but I chose you, Damon. And," she said, her voice bringing on the unfortunate tone, "at this point I'm beginning to question why." 
"Cute," Damon said, and pulled off his shirt because there was no question that if Lilith was going to bed, he was going with her. "That's real cute."
She sat down and pulled the blanket on top of herself. Damon usually loved it, but his blood was boiling too much to let him feel human. 
"He's nothing," she said. "I was just having a little treat Forgive me for having a little indulgence every now and then." She shrugged. "Maybe if you spent more time at the club, I wouldn't be so tempted."
It was his fault, of course. He should've known. The bitch needed to die. "I could join you tonight." He wondered why he did it to himself.
She gave him a small smile. "Are you sure it won't question your moral standpoint? I would hate to set you back another hundred years."
He couldn't help but grin. She was charming in an impossible way. "We'll see." He lay down next to her and yawned as she pressed against his side. Her fangs lengthened against his taunt skin. He pushed her forehead away and turned on his side, playing her game. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

Damon admired the back of Lilith's legs as she climbed into the limo. They were using the small limo, not the stretch he'd seen parked in the back lot of the club. She was talking on her cell phone about some shipment. Damon figured it to be Kris. It was always Kris, she didn't seem to trust anyone else.
Lilith hung up the phone and Damon took the opportunity to speak before the phone rang again. "So, your goal is to have the entire human race addicted to drugs. Is that the plan?" He asked as if it were the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. He wasn't sure if it actually was the most stupid, or the most brilliant.
"No," Lilith said, as she pushed buttons on her phone, engrossed in sending a text message. "We don't want all the humans addicted."
"What then? Are you trying to destroy the human race before you enslave it?" Damon asked.
"For your information, on a small to medium scale, drugs have had a very positive outcome for our cause. It helps us gain the human's trust until they can be taken and harvested. We're aware that it isn't the angle that will win us the war."
It was what he'd been waiting for. "Oh yeah? What's your brilliant idea for that, then?" Lilith lifted her eyes up from the phone and glared at him to tell him he'd be stupid to think she'd fall for it. "What's that look for?" He asked.
"Damon, our plan for the human race is none of your concern. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," she added as she snapped her phone shut.
Damon just turned and watched the scenery. Dirty city streets. He'd learned of so many places he'd never known existed. "Where's this field trip today taking us?" He asked.
"To check up on an inspection of a shipment and deliver payment. Then, we'll see." Lilith settled back in the seat. "Tonight's pretty free."
Lilith was the first one out on the sidewalk when they arrived at the warehouse, and Damon managed to grab a peek of red panties as she climbed out. The driver handed Damon a briefcase. He glanced at Lilith while he took it, and she nodded her head once. It was heavy. As he followed Lilith up to the front door he looked up and down the street, worried about cops but not sure why.
"Is this the drugs?" He breathed.
"That would be the payment," Lilith said as she opened the door to the warehouse. Boxes lined the inside of the wall, making it impossible to tell exactly how far the space ran. The interior area was cleared of all but a card table and three men. Two humans were standing around a vampire sitting at the table. "You'd be surprised at the fortune you can amass in just a couple of centuries. My lawyers are visionaries."
Damon thought he'd better open a savings account. Had she been as wealthy when she was alive? A spoiled daughter to some business mogul? He kept a few steps behind her as she walked up to the men and he shivered, thinking of the time's he'd ridden with his friends to buy for his own supply. They'd been lucky. He couldn't believe they'd been worried about cops. There were worse things to be afraid of at night. 
"Good evening," Lilith said. Three black suited men entered and then closed the door behind them. Damon winced at the sound. She smiled at them as she took the briefcase from Damon's hand. "I believe this is what you've been waiting for." She laid it on the table. "Has it been tested?" 
The vampire seated at the card table nodded and pointed to the three open packages on the floor next to the boxes. "Off the charts."
Damon knew the silver plant buds were really good quality weed, and the white powder he guessed was coke. There was some dark sticky hash, the spectrum of rainbow pills. Next to it, wrapped in trash bags was a camel colored powder he instinctively recognized as heroin. The cause of many wild nights. His itching started fiercely, quickly overshadowing the bug in his ear. His hands found the back of his neck and he scratched, coming to the realization that the itching started whenever he thought about being human again. The vampire in the charcoal suit handed Lilith a paper with what Damon figured were test results. "Very nice, gentlemen," she said with a smile he was surprised to see, was genuine. "I guess those chemistry sets we sponsored have come in handy." Damon was disgusted. What was noble in expediting the destruction of a species?
The humans nodded, their heart rates still a bit elevated. Damon wondered if they knew they were dealing with the dead. Lilith placed the briefcase on the table. 
"Three?" The human on the right asked. He couldn't meet their eyes.
Lilith nodded. "Yes."
The human removed a money counting machine from the backpack on his shoulder. Damon remembered these from waiting hours in line at the bank. The human placed it on the table and started stacking the hundred dollar bills into it, while the vampire plugged the machine into an extension cord. It hummed on and started counting, the numbers flashing rapidly upward. The atmosphere turned casual. Lilith impatiently bounced on one foot. Damon knelt to inspect the packed heroin, and knelt down to touch it, smelled it on his finger. Good stuff. He scratched the inside of his arm as he stood up. Lilith was behind him.
"I know what you're thinking," she said. "And it has no effect on us."
Damon swallowed. "Quality," he said. "I was just checking quality."
There was a thump on the table and Damon's eyes were drawn to the wrought iron crucifix on the table. It was an antique, something stolen from a church, a monster of a crucifix, and Jesus face was so sad in its detail that he was compelled to step closer. Damon pulled Lilith's waist until his lips were an inch from her ear. "Would it really harm us? If we touched it?" He was instantly reminded of black and white horror films on classic movie Sundays.
Lilith pulled back and looked into his eyes as if to see if he was serious. "Why don't you see for yourself?"
Damon met her steely look and then looked away at the crucifix, at the tears in Jesus' eyes. He wondered where the men had gotten it, how they'd come to the conclusion that this would keep them safe while they got rich off their species' demise. And Lilith? Would she let him die for her amusement? Probably better not to think too hard about the question. The man counting looked up and added another stack to the machine with his eyes on Damon's hands. He'd always had a sick fascination with things that would probably end up hurting him. At first the metal felt cool to his skin but as his wrist tensed up to bear the weight of it, a burning sensation began to rise from the metal as if it were being heated up from the inside. The pain was immediate and intense, the smell of burning flesh a new scent to him. He could see the misting smoke curl up from between his fingers. As much as he wanted to drop it, he didn't want to look foolish to the humans, so he slowly put it down with only a slight tremor. Once he released it, and turned his back to the humans, he snuck a look and found his hand blistered. The humans went back to their counting. 
Lilith was smug, as usual. "There's a reason why a vampire religion never took off," Lilith said over his shoulder. "Christianity isn't big around here." 
There was a sick feeling in the middle of his stomach replacing the pain in his palm as his wound began to heal. He'd never been very religious but this was the first time he feared for the state of his soul. But then again, an eternal existence on earth was nothing less than damnation. 
"Thank you, miss," The counting man said while he put the money back into the briefcase. He had an accent from some South American country that Damon would never be able to place. He imagined what the humans saw as they left, an insane vampire picking at his hand full of blisters. These men were the scum of the earth, but they considered him a demon. Great.
"You'll take care of this?" Lilith asked the vampire that was still sitting. He was dressed like a concierge in a fancy hotel. She looked at her watch, a flash of gold and sparkle. "The others should be around for pick up." 
Back in the car Damon inspected his hand again as Lilith answered a call. His wounds healing quickly, he watched his body repairing the damage, his skin smoothing out and regaining its natural composure. After she snapped the phone shut, she informed the driver that they would be stopping at Kris's place.
"What the hell do we need to go there for?" Damon asked.
Lilith rolled her eyes. "First of all, we're just going to the club. Kris keeps the order and lives there most of the time. It's the only place to find him this early in the night. Second of all, you're waiting in the car."
Damon started shaking his head. "I'm going up with you."
"Damon," she said, "In case you haven't noticed, this relationship is not a democracy."
Damon crossed his arms. "I'm going."

After waiting nearly an hour for Lilith, Damon decided he'd had enough. He pressed the intercom button to speak with the driver.
"Can you bring me home?" Damon asked him.
"No can do, boss. Not until she's back."
"Well, I'm Mr. Lilith right now and I'm telling you to take me home."
"Sorry, sir. Not until Mrs. Lilith is in this vehicle." He turned around in his seat and Damon saw a glint of fang. "Do you think I have a death wish? I can call another car for you."
Damon was disgusted. "Never mind. I'll walk," he said, and pushed the door open. He really didn't want to walk, but he had to stop thinking about what Kris and Lilith were doing up there. He stepped right out into Lilith's path.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
"What took so fucking long?"  
"Let's go," she said, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the line of humans and vampires outside. She walked past him and got into the back seat.
"What did you need from Kris?" Damon asked as the car pulled away from the curb. "I almost left without you."
"Just plans. I've got to deliver them personally. Why do you have so many questions all of a sudden?" She had her arms crossed in front of her in the classic defense position.
He shrugged. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
She shook her head as if they thought him unfortunate. "Damon, you really are too much for me. You hate Kris but you're starting to become just like him."
Damon laughed, although the situation was quickly becoming unfunny. "Well Lilith, if you want to talk about who we think we're like, I'd like you to know that you're every woman I've ever dated all rolled up into one, and on her period."
Lilith narrowed her eyes. The car came to a stop in front of their apartment. "Get out."
"I thought you had plans to deliver," Damon said, his hand already on the door handle.
"I'm delivering plans. You're going home because you're acting like a child." She sounded like his mother now. It seemed to be hundred of years since he'd heard it. "I'll be back when you're acting more reasonable." She leaned over and slammed the door shut narrowly missing his foot. He was left standing on the sidewalk, in the dark.

 

Damon's Soul Mate. 

Damon looked back and forth between the two buildings, squinting despite the nearly descended sun. He was unsure where he was or where he was supposed to be. 
"Lost?" Asked a voice behind him.
Damon jumped at the closeness. "Was that necessary?" 
Michael grinned. "Why so nervous?"
Damon's hand went to loosen his tie. He didn't know why he'd gone all out with not only the starched black dress shirt and pants, but the black jacket and tie as well. "I'm not nervous. Why are you so fucking happy?"
Michael shrugged. "I'm not happy." His white fangs were back. "Just hungry."
Damon nodded. "Patience," he said, but his mouth was curling up because of the dark thoughts in his own mind.
Michael rolled his eyes. "You'd think I'd be used to the waiting."
"What are you doing up? It's barely dusk."
Michael shrugged, which annoyed the hell out of Damon because he didn't consider shrugging an acceptable answer for anything, they both catch sight of a long legged redhead, both of their heads turning in sync. "She looks tasty. Can't beat that color, am I right?" Never mind the exquisite shape of her ass, Michael just wondered what her insides would taste like. It was Damon's turn to roll his eyes. "What are you doing out here?" Michael asked him. 
"I have this meeting."  Why else would he be out alone and not in the company of Lilith?
"Yeah?" Michael's eyebrows were raised, his face the one of someone staring at the king of the obvious.
Damon raised his eyebrows. "Do you care?"
Michael shrugged. "No, I was just trying to be polite. Good job ruining it."
Damon smiled. "I have a meeting with Lucas in about 20 minutes, but I can't remember if it's being held at 10055 South 54th street or 10057 South 54th street."
"Well, you should be glad that I was good enough to make such a friendly gesture as small talk." Michael started backing into a crosswalk. Traffic didn't hesitate and neither did Damon.
"Why is that?" He asked, feeling a chill as a car passed right through his body doing about 35. He could never get used to the feeling and tended, when by himself, to wait out the crosswalk signals.
"Because my journey this morning led me by your apartment, where Lilith informed me of two things. One," he said, holding up a finger, "Is that you had a meeting at 10057 South 54th street." 
Damon followed and nodded. "I guess it's good that she's nosy in addition to evil."
 "And two," Michael continued, his second finger poised, "Was where I should tell you to go when I finally found you."
It wasn't surprising. "She was a little upset with me."
"Lilith mad? I can't imagine why."
"Well, you'll understand that kind of stuff when you've been with the same woman for your entire afterlife," Damon said as he started walking in the direction of his meeting.
Michael followed. "How long has it been, old timer? 100? 200 years? You don't look a day over 60."
Damon rolled his eyes again, this time out of Michael's line of sight. "Yeah, well if I wasn't dead already it would've killed me."
10057 South 54th street, a squat blue building dwarfed by the 50 story building next to it. They walked down a side alley and entered in through the back entrance. It appeared abandoned to any human walking by, or one unlucky enough to enter. They would see an eerily quiet lobby, and then most likely, their sight would melt into blackness as they were, as Lucas would put it, liquidated. Despite the ease in which the problem could be rectified, Damon knew there were great pains taken to make sure that no human ever got that far. 
"You know," Michael started as they entered the lobby. It seemed empty but Damon caught glimmers of their kind peeking out from behind the marble pillars in the lobby. "What you need to do is find yourself a cute new feline to occupy your time."
They were alone in the elevator on the ride up to the twentieth floor, the penthouse suite. Damon could feel the cameras in the ceiling follow their movements. Security had increased 200 percent since the rise in the resistance had increased rapidly in the past three months. Damon had changed their perception of her strength and reach, and the old timers had begun to feel Lilith's eyes on them. "Those clubs where you pick up your felines are just places to torture and lead humans on. They're dangerous to our way of life," Damon said, hating the way he sounded like some kind of authority figure because he'd always despised them. 
Michael shrugged it off. "I just think you need to loosen up and meet some young, cute little vampire to play with for a little while. Lilith's blood is so pure in you that you're starting to look like her." He was laughing. 
"That's very doubtful." Damon couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Yeah? Well she's such a narcissistic bitch that I don't think she'd mind owning a fucking clone of herself."
"Despite the fact that I've lost all ability to see my reflection, I am sure that I have not grown any curly blonde hairs this week. Besides, we can't all be as gifted as you are," Damon said, really turning to look at his friend for the first time as is presence finally registered. "Why are you even here?"
Michael's grin was Reneewed. "You're going to come into some luck tonight."
The elevator doors opened with a welcoming ding and Damon got out, still pondering the statement. Michael didn't follow, just continued leaning against the back of the elevator, his arms crossed, grin spread from ear to ear. 
"What kind of luck? You mean I'll survive another night sleeping next to her?" Damon couldn't say her name out loud, not then. It was almost bad luck, considering the weight of the situation. He'd meant it as a joke but had a hard time smiling afterwards.
Michael leaned his forearms against the metal, leaning into the wood paneled hallway, "You're going to meet a girl tonight. Someone significant." There was no joking in his tone. Damon just narrowed his eyes, moments before telling Michael to fuck off. Michael stood up straight, his face solemn. "Your soul mate." The elevator doors began to close.
Damon was confused when, in the last second that Michael's face had blinked out before the glare of the chrome steel, his friend still had never cracked a smile. So Damon didn't have time for a smart comeback. Instead, he laughed out loud in the silent hallway. He chuckled for a full minute as he headed to the last room down the dim corridor. He'd been somewhere else for a minute, trying to remember what it was like to love someone. As he crossed into the threshold, he felt a chill. 

To the Future of Our Species. The Club. Adrienne.

Damon arrived at home ready for a fight. He found Lilith exactly where he expected, seated at the mini bar that was to the side of the living room, dressed all in red, drinking a cocktail that, of course, coordinated with her outfit. Damon closed the door behind him and stood there waiting for her to say something. There was finality in the air. Today was the day he'd sold her out. Did she know? 
He ducked in time to avoid a glass tumbler to the forehead. It wasn't hard since he'd been expecting it as soon as he saw the look on her face.
"How dare you?" She cried, as if enraged that he hadn't taken his punishment like a man. She was across the room in little more than a blur. 
He managed to sidestep her and pull her against him by her waist, a move that he hadn't even known he could do. She'd taught him to be more graceful.  "How dare I, what? Leave the house? Or have a life?" Best to play stupid.
"How dare you get involved in something that I have told you, you have no business in?" She hissed, and Damon could smell the blood on her breath. He was starving and thought briefly how much trouble he could save by just tearing out her tongue.
Lilith pushed him against the wall hard enough to stun him and she held him, her body pressed against him little more than a demonstration of her strength. He was no match if she really lost her temper. "While I was out trying to secure our future," She whispered into his ear as he struggled against her, "You were out cavorting with the enemy." He started to speak but she interrupted him, "Don't try to lie, Damon. I feed from your blood every night and I know the secrets your soul hides." He tried again with Reneewed strength to break free but only successfully took two steps before she pushed him back again. "Damon, I know what your insides look like." She looked directly into his eyes and let him go but he stayed against the wall, steadying himself as she turned his back on him, walking away. She must've had him followed, or someone had ratted him out. Either way her patience had exploded. Lilith poured herself another drink. "What do they tell you at those meetings?" Damon glared. "Do they tell you that it's okay for our species, the top of the food chain, to compromise our survival for something as measly as the sun?"
"The sun," Damon said hearing the bitterness in his laughter, "Is not a measly thing." She was insane. Why hadn't she realized this before? He felt giddy with his potential freedom.
Lilith raised the glass to pink lips which were so soft, and so cold. "Who was there anyway, the old timers? Lucas? That asshole Andrew?"
Damon just shook his head. "It doesn't matter."
"How do you expect to sleep under the same roof as an enemy?" Questions he'd asked himself. What did she think she'd get out of him?
He shrugged and walked into the bedroom, wanting to change because if he wasn't coming back, he wanted to be comfortable. The suit he'd worn to the meeting reminded him of something he should've been buried in. "I've been doing it this long. Nothing's changed." He was a liar and they both knew it. He didn't know why he pretended to want to stay when he'd had one foot out the front door since she'd moved him in. 
 "What do they say about me? I'm sure they don't approve," Lilith said sneaking up behind him and putting her arms around his naked chest. She smiled with her mouth against his flesh. "I don't want problems, Damon. I like the way things are. These new clubs are good stepping stones to creating a unified system of feeding. I like not having to wait to feed, Damon. Don't you see how this can benefit all of us?" She kissed his neck and Damon could feel her fangs lengthen. Sure, she was sweet and cuddly. Right before she attacked.
His reflexes were quick enough to catch her face in his hands before she could pierce his skin. He held her there and turned. In her eyes he saw all this time he'd wasted loving her for a gift he'd never wanted. "Just as woman was created from man, we were created from humans."
Lilith's sneer sickened him so much he let go of her and looked away. How was it possible to contort such a beautiful face into that of a monster? "Damon, is that the kind of drivel they feed you? Your God loves you so much that he's revolted and burns you when you come near him."
Damon wanted badly to smack her across the face. Instead, he remembered his mother and bent down to take out the picture from the fancy black pants he'd been wearing, palming it to hide it from her until he pulled on a pair of jeans and put the picture back in his pocket. 
"So, what now?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips, "This is what it comes down to? I mean, this is it, Damon. I'm tired of fighting a war in my own house. Either you stop this nonsense, or you get out for good."
Without hesitating, Damon started getting together money and papers that were scattered on the bottom of his dresser. Lilith seemed speechless, and went back the bar. Damon got his things together, which were mostly envelopes with addresses, and put them in a laundry bag he found in Lilith's dressing room, along with another change of clothes.  He paused in the doorway of the living room, how to say goodbye. He'd known the day was coming, but he'd always been afraid of being alone. 
Lilith looked at him with contempt. "Have a toast before you leave." Damon hesitated, but liked the sound of a final drink together, and so joined her as she poured out two red shot glasses. Was he being a hypocrite? It didn't matter. They'd be putting an end to all of it soon. Lucas had resigned to have her killed, he knew. Lilith tilted her glass towards his until the lips touched. "To the future of our species," Lilith said with a curiously solemn look on her face. They downed the shots together, and as soon as Damon felt it go down, his throat began to close up on him. He slammed the glass on the counter involuntarily and then held on to the edge to keep from falling. He vaguely heard the glass roll off the table and shatter on the floor but he didn't care. The blood burned all the way down. Damon could swear he felt it burn as it entered his veins. Afterwards, he felt almost human, almost alive.
"What the fuck was that?"  He asked, already dreading the answer.
Lilith shrugged. "Just like everything in this house. The best money can buy."
Damon bent over more out of reflex because his first reaction was to throw it all up. "That's illegal, Lilith," He croaked and stood up with his hand still to his stomach despite how much energy her had. "You'd better be careful, Lilith. Those laws that have never been enforced will soon be. Then we'll see who's on the winning side."
"What do you know about our laws?" He could see her regret in changing him. Good, that's what he'd wanted, the closest thing to an apology he could ever expect. Lilith laughed. "I see you pass up the young healthy humans for the bums on the street corner. You expect everyone to live like that?"
"And what, I'm less of a man because of that? Because I realize there is no need for killing? Well, at least I don't feed off of children." He shuddered openly. "And I hope you didn't acquire that yourself."
"Black market, Damon," she said as she replacing the glass milk bottle into the fridge. Damon wondered how many babies it had taken to fill it. They were animals. He didn't regret his decision to have her killed for a second. Lilith slammed the door shut. "And two ounces of that can keep one of us alive for a week."
He glared into her green eyes. "I never want to see you again." He started backing his way to the door, never turning his back on her. 
"You see, Damon," Lilith said, walking out from behind the bar, "The problem is that you've always been down here," she said, indicating with her hand at her waist, "And I've always been up here," She said, her other perfectly manicured hand above her head. "Our kind is not meant to be down at your level."
Damon stopped just at the doorway. "Don't tell me what our kind is meant for, because I can tell you one thing." He yanked his leather jacket down from the coat rack. "If God had meant for us to rule the humans, he wouldn't have created the sun." He left then, slamming the door behind him, ending the discussion and the companionship that he swore to her their first night together, would last as long as they did. Damon would never step foot in her home again. 

 
  Luna walked out onto the sidewalk quickly, her thin arms wrapped around her body, the small wad of twenties tucked into the corner of her bra constituting the work she'd put into the night. The experience of living in a big city was something that both awed and overwhelmed her. Had it been a good idea? She still wasn't sure. The bright lights and busy streets still scared her, but it was away from all the mistakes from her past, from Peter and his wife, and there was free to be nobody. The smell of hotdogs drifted to her nostrils as she crossed the street onto the sidewalk.

It was the sudden loss of purpose that sent Damon reeling. What now? Where would he go? The smell of a woman in her special time of the month caught his attention. Damon turned instinctively but the sidewalk was crowded with people around a hot dog stand to pinpoint where the smell had come from. He'd heard that that kind of blood female was a specialty in other countries, and he had to admit that it intrigued him. Like the rest of his species he was controlled by his instincts, behind everything else, the constant craving for food was always there. He moved on, deciding that it was not the night to try new things.

Damon knocked on Michael's door. Sullen and tired, all he wanted to do was sleep. He hated change. Michael had his grin in place when he pushed the door open. Damon wordlessly sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. Michael just joined him. They were silent for a moment as if Michael was waiting for him to say something. 
Finally, Michael became tired of waiting. "I got some food," he said, scratching his head and pointing to the back bedroom. "The remains of an investment banker, I think." 
"No, thank you," Damon said, aware of how thick his voice sounded.
"Let's go, we're going out," Michael said. Damon started shaking his head. "Don't say no, Damon. We need to get you out of this slump you've been in."
"Slump? We broke up like twenty minutes ago. I haven't had any time to be in a slump," Damon said, amazed at how much of an asshole Michael could be. But then he, himself, had never been good with that kind of stuff. And the guilt was there, the guilt that he'd given his consent, he'd given names, and addresses, dates and locations. Lilith was going to die. 
"It's been a long time coming. So there's no excuse to sit around here and mope all night." Michael leaned back into the couch. Damon was silent, refusing to agree even if he didn't want to sit around in Michael's filthy apartment all night either. "Who finally did it?" Michael asked. "Did she find someone else who doesn't put up so much of a fight?" What a joke. They both knew Lilith wouldn't waste her time training another man to be what she already had in Damon.
"I thought you knew everything." Damon said. "What, was that channel not coming in clearly?" 
Michael just looked up at the ceiling and grinned. "You're free." He sounded as if he'd been waiting to take Damon out for an eternity.
A cockroach ran across the bloodstained coffee table. "It's a great feeling."
"We're going out," Michael said again. Damon shook his head. "You've got to eat, right?" Damon just kept shaking his head. For once, his mind was not on the hunger. "Have you forgotten that I can see the future?" Michael asked.
"No," Damon said, "I haven't."
"Well then have you, in all the mess that's happened today, forgotten what I told you this morning?" 
Damon had, and it took him a moment to remember. The elevator, a soul mate. He cracked a smile.  "Fuck you." 
Michael raised his eyebrows. Looked genuinely surprised. "Damon, don't you think that when someone with my kind of talent recommends you to do something, then it's probably a good thing to do?" Michael said, talking to him as he would a child.
Oh yes, the broken leg incident. "You can't be serious," Damon said.
Michael shrugged. "You'll never know if you don't get your ass off of that couch."
Damon closed his eyes and sat back, trying to imagine what it would be like to actually like somebody. He couldn't imagine it. Maybe his previous life hadn't been any luckier. His smiled cracked again and he opened his eyes. "Where are we going?" 
Michael smiled. "One of these places you're trying to shut down yet never have been to."
Damon's grin froze on his lips, and his eyes narrowed. "I've been to one. Several times. You know, Lilith's. Anyway, I doubt my 'soul mate' goes to places like that. I'm done with those savages."
"Hey," Michael said, laughing. "Watch your mouth. You know, I've been known to get a little wild in my day, but I know for sure that the people who go to those clubs are not the kind of people you want to mess with. You are planning to just take them all on by yourself. Maybe you should see what you're up against."
Damon wanted desperately to change the subject. The idea of taking anyone on made him nervous. He'd feel better when Lilith was gone. But then again, maybe he'd never be able to sleep right. "And what's with this soul mate shit?"
Michael stood up, raising his hands to the sky, as if talking straight to the heavens. Damon looked up and saw only cracked plaster. "Damon, I'm talking about the greatest love you'll ever have in your life." Michael lowered his hands. "I'm talking about the one you were made for. The One."
Damon stared. Waited for the punch line. When it didn't come, he looked away at the floor thinking back to the few memories he had prior to the new existence, of women, trying to remember if he'd ever thought for a split second that someone was his soul mate. No, there weren't any soul mates; he saw only cracked and bloodied bottles on the floor. Everyone had a hand in the black market. 
It was nearly two full minutes before Michael opened his mouth again. Damon heard the breath and glared at him, waiting for something stupid to come out of his mouth. When Michael didn't say anything he sighed. "What?" Damon asked.
Michael just looked at him for a second and when he spoke, all humor was gone. "Ok. So she may not turn out to be all of that. Hell, I don't even know what it'll feel like when you see her. And if I knew what you know now, would I meet her?" He shrugged. "I don't know. But you have a unique chance. You know what'll happen if you join me tonight. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but it's too late. I have a feeling that no matter what happens, the one thing you will regret is spending the night sitting on this goddamn couch. Doesn't a part of you want to know what it's like to not have regrets?"
"Why does it have to be 'soul mate,' though? That's really gay." Damon couldn't suppress his grin. "Do you realize how sixteenth century sissy guy that sounds?"  
Michael shrugged again and spread his arms out across the back of the couch. "Those are your words for her, not mine."
Damon thought a moment, laughed, and stood up. "Fuck it. Let's go." 

Adrienne knocked on the door twice before pushing it open. Luna barely looked up from the book that she was reading, wrapped up in her red comforter in her neat little room on her neat little bed. She hated being disturbed while she was reading. "I thought you had a date with Mark tonight?" Luna asked her roommate.
"The bastard cancelled," Adrienne said, leaning against the doorframe and playing with a bottle of nail polish on Luna's dresser. She was dressed and ready to go out, tight jeans, heels, cleavage strategically placed. Luna hated looking at her sometimes, and couldn't understand why Adrienne had such an immaculate complexion despite the fact that they used the same damn products that Adrienne got at a discount in the salon where she worked.
"What a jerk," Luna said, but Adrienne was too good for him and while she'd never bother with trying to change her friend's mind about anything because it wasn't worth it, she'd just cling on to whatever it was longer, she wished her friend would wake up. Adrienne came from a good family, was paying the bills with working part time at the salon, but was having success modeling, yeah, like there weren't enough blonde hair blue eyed girls in ads. She didn't need some pretty boy stringing her along. 
Adrienne sighed. "How was work?"
"Stupid." Luna said.
"Yeah," she said, nodding, and leaned against the door frame. "I'm bored." 
"I can tell," Luna said. "Maybe you should try reading." Certainly couldn't hurt. The girl was too pretty for her own good.
Adrienne gave Luna a look as if she just recommended she take a running leap off the top of their roof of their apartment building. "I was thinking more along the lines of going out."
 "Look at me," Luna said. She was outfitted in flannel pajamas, bootie socks, and pony tail. "I'm ready for bed."
Adrienne shrugged as if saying, it was worth a try. "Okay well, I'll see if I can find someone else to go with me," She said, sounding as if she knew even before she went into the room what the answer probably would be. Luna felt bad she was such a boring friend but she couldn't help it. Being boring came natural to her.
Luna suddenly remembered the VIP passes she'd found in the pocket of her jeans when she was doing laundry. She'd been flattered by the attention but she had no intention of going there just for the chance of maybe running into him. She'd be mortified if he was just a promoter and had no recollection of meeting her. If he wanted to see her again he knew where to find her. Five out or seven days out of the week, Luna could be found working. "Hey," she said because Adrienne had turned and was closing the door. She stopped. "Have you ever heard of a club called Twilight?"  Luna could see the gears turn in her curly blonde head. She scrunched her freckled nose and shook her head. Luna leaned off of the bed and pulled up her small black leather purse. She found the passes and handed them to her friend. "Some guy left these VIP passes with his tip at the diner. There's two, you can have them if you want. It might be cool."
The cards were black and the surface had a ridged texture that made a hologram. Printed in silver gothic type font were the words: TWILIGHT. "How do you know they're VIP passes?"
Luna got off the bed and took one of the cards. "There's two images if you move them." She leaned the card back and the words changed to VIP ENTRANCE. 
"I wonder what kind of club it is."
Luna shrugged. "The guy who gave it to me was clean cut and really cute. I bet they have a website or something."
Adrienne smiled. "Ok well, thanks. I'll see if Maggie will go with me. She may know where it is, too."
Luna nodded smiled. Maybe she should go, could be fun. Then she corrected herself. No, it was rarely ever fun for her.  She knew better. "Have fun. And be careful, okay?"

Damon and Michael came up to the building that looked just like any other club on the strip including a long line of humans wrapped around the block. Damon couldn't believe how well the club blended in with the several others on the same street, that the humans were waiting in line for their own mutilations.  Some humans were being let in with what looked like hand stamps which glowed in the dark and had a fluorescent tint. Michael led him passed the humans to the front of the line. Once closer, Damon recognized where he was. It seemed like weeks ago. It was Kris's club. He wondered if Michael knew, but didn't mention it, with the hope in his mind that he would run into Kris and kick his ass. Damon had never been a fighter, but he was learning.
"Do they let all these humans in?" Damon asked under his breath to keep anyone from overhearing.
Michael shook his head. "Rule is that if you find someone you like, you're supposed to give them a pass to this place. They're let into a different entrance where they're persuaded to join the party upstairs. I don't really know what they do to them up there."
"Then why are they standing outside waiting if they'll never get in?" Two heavyset bouncers guarded the front door. The black one, a fellow vampire, had gold plated fangs. Damon wondered briefly if he'd look nearly as fierce if he dared to have a set made and decided against it.
"Sometimes, if the party's slow, they'll pick some of the better looking people to come in. Very selective."
"Do they have any idea what they're walking in to?"
Michael shrugged and faced the other bouncer, a white guy who looked like an ex marine, his head bald, and his arm baring one large tattoo of an eagle wrapped in an American flag. The bouncer flashed a light into Michael's eyes that made them turned green, and then did the same to Damon. That was enough to have the door opened. After stepping through the threshold Damon was enveloped by the sounds of Slayer and the smell of smoke.  
The lights were so dim that even Damon had to pause and let his night vision take over. A human probably would've been bumping into people, but there didn't seem to be many humans walking. The experience was much like walking into an acid trip. The only bulbs in the building were black lights, and it caused an interesting effect. There were eyes and teeth everywhere. Anything that wasn't black looked red, and it was weird to look into Michael's eyes the color of life in his eyes. Above them were stained glass windows that gave the impression of an old church, but what he really he felt like was that he was in a fun house. Blood left black stains on glaring white fangs. There were some people dancing on the dance floor, but it wasn't as active as at Lilith's club.  The patrons were mostly sitting at high tables, or made up the moving shadows along the walls. There were couches there, where the light didn't reach; most likely to hide what was going on from the humans. Damon could see just fine. Lilith's place couldn't hold a candle to the carnage happening in those shadows.
The smell of blood was almost overwhelming and while the counters and tables were mainly spotless save the occasional splatter, their feet, in places, found puddles. Damon was used to practicing self restraint, but even he was tempted to grab the nearest human and help himself. He knew that he wouldn't be stepping out of the line there. Damon swallowed and rubbed the stiff paper in his back pocket. He'd gotten into the habit when he was nervous. It was a less notable habit than the itching.
"What first?" Damon asked.
Michael smiled. "Refreshments," He said, leading their way to the bar.
On the way Damon caught a glimpse of a booth that humans seemed to be standing in line for. He heard the hum of the needle and saw the vampire hunched over a human girl. Damon had thought that the symbols he'd noticed on the soft, fleshy inside part of the wrist of the humans outside were hand stamps, but he realized they were tattoos. They glowed yellow to Damon's eyes but he assumed that they couldn't be seen to humans unless under the black light of the club. The symbol, he realized, was familiar to him as he'd seen examples at meetings of the resistance. It had always looked to him like two fangs held against each other to form a cross. Damon had learned the symbol was a character left over from a dead language. Vampires still remember, while humans had long forgotten. The symbol stood for one word. Food.
Michael ordered two by holding up two fingers, and the bartender placed, on a black plate, two lines of an ultra white powder that looked either like the powder inside of pixie sticks, or pure cocaine. Michael leaned over and with a small piece of a straw that he'd pulled out of a cup sitting on the counter, he snorted it. His eyes were already glassy when he looked up at his friend.
"Michael, what's coke going to do?" Damon said, distinctly remembering how he'd hadn't liked the uppity feeling he'd had using coke in the past. He preferred drugs that would allow him to spend the night lounging in his apartment, not compulsively cleaning it. But just the look of the drugs, and the possibility of a high was just too good of an idea to pass up, and he took a straw out of the cup for himself despite his doubts.
Michael laughed a bit too hysterically. "You think this is cocaine? That is cocaine," he said, pointing down the bar two where two human women were snorting up. "You obviously need to get out more. That shit doesn't work on us. This is Dip. Don't worry, Damon. It won't kill you." Michael said, and laughed until he was doubled over. 
Enough questions. Damon leaned over, snorted, felt the head rush, the waves crashing over him. Oh God, yes. He was floating in a vast, warm ocean. "What's in it?" He asked, holding his nostrils closed. A newbie. It burned all the way down.
Michael's grin was manic. "This is funny," He said, then paused a second as if he'd forgotten to finish his train of thought. "Holy water and garlic." He started laughing again.
Damon wandered away from Michael a few steps, not knowing where he was going, but trying to get his mind off of the immediate panic in his belly. Poison. He saw nightmares in the shadows, and the music was snaking down his throat, enveloping him. Was this was acid was like? He stopped walking and placed his hand on his forehead. The lights were hot, the music was speaking to him, and he was pretty sure that the blood stains on the floor were trying to eat him. Damon slumped down into a couch against the wall. A human female stumbled past him, almost falling into his lap. He resisted the urge to grab her and suck whatever life was left, but he failed because he couldn't see straight. All he was good for was sitting and looking around. Michael had walked off.
He spotted a couple of human females being led by the bouncer he'd seen outside with the flashy grill. Of the four, the blonde caught his eye. Her hair was curly, and resembled Lilith's. A tiny bit. Damon stood up and trailed behind, barely able to keep up as he darted around bodies. He didn't know why, because humans tended to all be the same to him, but guessed it may have been because of the potential of destroying something that he could pretend was Lilith. He followed up a flight of stairs but was too late to duck behind the curtain before it fell. Damon saw an extension to the club that looked like a bar, no black lights, and no blood stains. He tried to step by the bouncer, but he moved to block his way, looking over his sunglasses at Damon, his grin looking sinister with all the gold flashing red in the lights. He shook his head. Damon didn't push it, but spotted Michael leaning against the bar talking to a couple of men as he descended. The group around Michael all had matching grins. 
Damon put his hand on Michael's shoulder, who laughed when he looked into his friend's face. "Dude, you look so fucked up."
Damon laughed at that, he didn't know why, but it was a good laugh. "Why don't they let people up there?" He asked, getting right to the point and pointing to the black curtain above Michael's head.
Michael didn't turn to look, just shrugged and glanced at his friends who were moving away for more entertaining conversations. "They let people up there. They just don't let you back there," He said before he downed a shot. Damon winced as he watched him, remembering his last black market ingestion. Sad thing was it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
"They let me through at Lilith's club."
Michael pulled Damon closer to him. They were both so high that they leaned on each other for support. "They don't let you back there because you're a spy. The only reason you got this far is because you're with me." 
"I'm not a spy," Damon lied, but had no idea how to convince anyone otherwise. 
Michael raised his eyebrows and turned around. Damon tapped his shoulder again. "What goes on back there?" His head was still full of visions of the blonde and what it would be like to back her up against a wall. A replacement Lilith, this one warm, submissive. 
"That's where the Kris gets first pick of the humans." Michael sat on a stool and made himself comfortable. "That way, if they resist, or make too much for a fuss, he can dispose of them quietly without making a scene." Damon looked back at the curtain and saw a couple of stylish looking men being led back. Michael followed his gaze. "And no, he doesn't discriminate." He put some money down on the bar. Just a token, Damon knew. "They won't let you back there because they know your face. You're a marked man."
"Would they let me in with you?" His eyes went back to the black curtain.
 "I guess we can try if you wanted to. All that's back there is a bar and a whole bunch of bouncers. The only reason our kind go back there is just to get their pick of the fresh meat."
 "I just want first pick at the meat market." Had that come out right? 
Michael shook his head, his eyes shining with amusement or intoxication, Damon didn't know which. "I think maybe since it's your first time, you should try out the submissive girls down here. You know, the regulars. The new girls can be rough. Down here it's funny. You either got the zombies, or the girls who can't get enough."
"Where are the new vampires made?" Damon asked, forgetting the blonde for a moment because his brain seemed to be having problems sticking to one train of thought.
 "Are you fucking with me?" That set of his laughter again. Damon wanted to slap it out of him. He ran his hand through his hair and looked around. The high was already starting to wear off. "Look," Michael said, composing himself, "I don't know what your friends downtown are telling you, but there aren't many of us being made these days. If they allowed that, our species would outnumber the humans and we'd be eating them like cows. Definitely none made unless it's necessary, absolutely none made in the clubs." He paused as the realization of why the question was asked came to his face. "Except for you. I don't know what the hell Lilith was thinking when she made you."
"Can you take me up there?" Damon asked, not really sure that he was comprehending what the hell Michael was talking about. His mind was racing and all he could think about were human heart beats, warmth, and the blonde.
Michael hesitated before he stood up. "Sure, buddy. Let's go." This time Michael led the way and Damon was able to enter with only a condescending stare. 
The bar had dimmed lighting but no horror movies taking place along the walls. Damon scanned the sparse crowd and spotted the human friends the pretty blonde had come in with, but the she wasn't with them anymore. There were a few vampires mingling in the crowd but not as many as he'd expected. It seemed like an excellent opportunity to pick out the best new blood. The humans were relaxed, which must've been attributed to the amount of free alcohol circulating. 
Damon sat in a stool with his back against the bar and Michael sat next to him. "You dragged me in here to sit? I thought you'd found her, the one."
Damon continued to scan the room. "She's not in here."
"Oh, not good," Michael said with enough of foreboding tone to make Damon turn and look at him. 
"What?" 
They were both interrupted by a woman's scream loud enough to cover the pumping music for a brief second. The music was turned down there, but it was still loud enough to cause all the human heads turned simultaneously towards the hallway at the end of the bar. Now he knew why there were so few vampires hanging out in this section of the club. It would be unnerving to hear screams periodically, harder to pretend that everything was all right. There were a few chuckles to discount the event, and things went back to normal. He wondered if his blonde had just screamed. "What's going on back there?"
Michael looked unfazed. "Who knows? All I'm sure of is that when the humans come down the stairs they're submissive. The screamers don't make it that far."
"All or nothing, huh?" Damon said, not sure if he was as outraged as he should've been. The drugs still clung to his consciousness and made his thoughts muddy. What rose in him with the next scream was anger, his default emotion whenever he was high. The blonde, who, he'd decided, wasn't in the room, did not deserve to be tortured by an asshole like Kris. Damon stood up and Michael grabbed his jacket, although not tightly, as if it were more for the principal of it. Damon pulled away easily and followed the echo of the scream around the corner and down a hallway with a single unguarded doorway. Either they assumed no vampire was stupid enough to wander into there, or the person in the room was more than capable of taking care of themselves. 
Damon stopped just outside of the doorway, not sure what to do. He heard shallow raspy breaths now and smelled a female in the room. It was too late now. Damon found them on the bed, Kris on his hands and knees leaning over the pretty blonde who lay motionless, all eyes in the room on the intruder. Damon was struck by how cruel Kris looked. His piercing eyes stared into Damon's and showed no mercy. The drug was making things worse, he knew, because he'd never been so scared in his life. The blonde didn't move, she was little more than a statue with a heartbeat that was so fast that Damon wondered if it were really possible to die of fear. There was terror in her eyes. 
Damon just listened to the one breath in the room, the pretty blonde's rapid inhale and exhale, and took in the scene. The modern white table and chairs stainless steel, everything crisp and clean it was almost blinding to look at, marred only by a bright red bloodstain on the white carpet. The bed itself was white enough that it almost blended into the walls and carpet. All Damon could do was stare and sniff the smell of blood lingering despite the scented cinnamon candles that tried to mask it, the same way the canopy of the bed cast a shadow on the face of the vampire and made his eyes glow. There was no human skin left in that one. He was all animal. 
Kris was the one to break the hypnotic hold. He sat next to the girl, sighing. "What do you want? Did Lilith send you here?"
Damon hesitated but was relieved that Kris hadn't seemed to know of his falling out with Lilith. "I thought someone was hurt."
Kris busted out laughing, a sound that seemed natural.  "Playing the hero?" He said, mocking Damon in his pretentious playboy voice. "Well then, why don't you come back in about ten minutes? Someone should be hurt by then." Kris's hand was slowly gliding over the bare stomach of the blonde whose shirt had ridden up to reveal the lace of a bra that was not as white as the room around her. She looked warm. Damon wondered if she was the woman Michael had told him he'd meet.
"What are you going to do to her?" 
Kris rolled his eyes. Damon didn't realize that there was someone behind him until he became aware of an additional breath in earshot. He stepped back to let in two vampires holding between them a very drunk looking frat boy type.
Kris's eyes shifted from the new human, to the blonde, to Damon. "You came in here for her?" Kris asked Damon, who nodded. "You know her or something?" Suddenly, his face brightened as if he'd just realized something. "I get it. You're one of those guys who like to take it by force. You heard those screams? Yeah, she's definitely one of those." As Kris laughed at him, Damon felt embarrassed and a little ridiculous. He knew it was how Kris was trying to make him feel. "Hey, it's ok. Don't be embarrassed," Kris said after seeing the look on Damon's face. He stood up. "I don't get it myself, but I guess I'm just lazy. I mean, if it will just come to you, why not, you know? In the old days we would've had to get our asses up and done all that hunting shit, you know, creep into town at the first sign of dark." He laughed to himself and lifted the pretty blonde into a sitting position. He held on to her but she looked too afraid to run away even if he hadn't been. Her eyes bugged out from their sockets but the new human's head was rolled back and he failed to notice. "You know, I could use someone around here like you. I'll talk to Lilith about it, maybe." Damon shivered at the sound of Lilith's name. It was obvious she hadn't let her boy toy in on the news that she'd gotten rid of her newest pet. "I got this guy now but he's a human and there's something about that isn't right. Enjoying your food is one thing, but I mean, there's something about it that's beyond perversion. He kind of makes me sick." Kris actually seemed to shudder. Then, he smiled and his fangs gleamed almost as white as the room around him. "That's not a mind I'd ever want to tap into." He looked down at the blonde who, Damon noticed a bit disappointed, had twice as many freckles as Lilith did. "But hey, if this is what you're into, I have plenty more where that came from." It seemed to Damon that Kris seemed exactly like the kind of vampire who enjoyed taking it by force. His little speech didn't seem natural, but to Damon it seemed that Kris was a talker and just like Lilith, he did most things just for show.
Damon relaxed once Kris had nudged the blonde off the bed. She stood but didn't move any closer to Damon. The vampire nodded to the men at the door and they dumped the mumbling drunk kid onto the bed. The vampire smiled and looked down at the human while licking his lips. The human just smiled sleepily back up at him. Damon knew it was time to leave. He didn't think he needed to see anymore to know what Kris got off on.
The blonde put up no resistance when Damon took her arm and pulled her closer.  Kris called his name before he could leave. "You enjoy that. And don't worry. I won't tell Lilith." He walked Damon to the door. "Next time you have the urge, stop on by. I have ones like her all the time." Damon met his cold blue eyes. "Screamers." He said, amused and flashed his fangs. "Make sure you take her out of here. My employees hate the mess." He grabbed the front of Damon's jacket and leaned into his ear. Damon couldn't help wonder what kind of violence might have happened in another time and place. "Make sure you finish her off. They frown upon ones who can't keep secrets." The double meaning of the statement hung heavy in the air. 
In the hallway, the blonde's blue eyes focused on Damon's. His first reaction was to note how muddy and pale her eyes were in compared to Kris's. He found himself wondering how she'd look like as a vampire. Would her eyes clear up and would her veins glimmer under translucent skin? He'd never remembered seeing a vampire with so many freckles. The blonde's lips quivered. Damon didn't speak, just led her back to the lounge. She lingered a few steps behind him and he pulled her along.
When Damon leaned in to whisper in her ear, he inhaled her scent of strawberries and cigarettes. His fingers touched the small of her back. He loved the touch of warm human skin. "I won't hurt you. I'm taking you home." She remained silent but he knew by her frantic eyes that she didn't believe him after all that Kris had said. Damon passed Michael, who seemed to be entertaining a group of friends, and didn't even pause, just wondered if Michael had expected as much when he'd brought him there. 
Once they were out in the cold, passed the bouncers, and the humans who never looked more like cattle then at that moment, he understood perfectly why Lucas and the others were so intent on shutting those places down.
Damon let the human's arm go once they were out of sight, but kept pace with her until it was evident that she wasn't going to slow down or speak to him and so he finally grabbed her arm in the same place, hard enough to make her yelp, and pulled her into an alley. Damon pressing her up against the wall and stood uncomfortably close to her so that she couldn't move, so she would focus on his face. "We may be being followed so I can't let you go home by yourself." And because he may have been in love with her, he wasn't sure because he was still high. She was beautiful, she was warm, and he wanted to eat her and kiss her, he wasn't sure which. "I don't think he believed I was really like that for a second." 
The blonde spoke for the first time. "I'm not letting you know where I live. How do I know you won't kill me as soon as we're alone?" Her hands were shaking, and her heart was still beating fast. He wasn't any better than Kris to her.
Damon threw his hands up. "We're alone now. I'm not killing you am I? Look- what's your name?"
"Adrienne," She said without hesitating. 
"Look, Adrienne. Do you live alone?" 
She shook her head. "No."
"Good then, at least you know if I try to harm you that you've got someone who can call the police, you know, and neighbors and stuff. If you live in the city I know the walls aren't that thick." That made her smile. It was nice. "Adrienne, if I just let you leave then they might grab you before you make it a block and take you right back to him. That'll defeat the whole purpose. If I at least escort you I can get you home safe. They'll leave you alone if they see that they can't have you tonight. Believe me, they have better things to do." Like kill babies. And probably her friends. She didn't know how lucky she was.
Adrienne hesitated. "Okay, walk me home. But you're not coming in." She paused for a minute. "And who are you anyway?"
Damon didn't know how to answer the question. Definitely not what she would've expected in a hero. "I'm Damon."
"Are you one of them?" She asked, walking at a normal pace along side Damon on the sidewalk. She'd lowered her voice, good, because while Damon couldn't hear footsteps, he knew there was a good chance that they were being watched.
"It depends on what you think they are." She looked too afraid to answer. "I won't hurt you." He wondered whether or not he was telling the truth. If Lucas were there, he'd say she needed to die for knowing about their world. Kris was right, he hadn't had much of a choice after all.
Adrienne shook her head. Damon was still having trouble walking straight but he hoped that she wouldn't notice. It was uncomfortable still being high. He just pushed his hair back, trying to savor her company while it lasted, tried to pay attention. "I thought I was in a regular club. I didn't even know people like that existed. I mean I've heard about people who play vampire games, role playing and stuff, but you always kind of assume they do that stuff out in the middle of no where. I never thought that they would trick people into joining their clubs." Damon tried hard not to laugh, but a smile managed to creep onto his lips. She thought it was a game. That it was all fake. He wished. Damon wondered if she was high, too. "What?" she asked at the look on his face. Damon just shook his head. "You're different," she said. "But that guy back there, he thought you were."
"I'm not like them," He agreed, and was proud of that. "Being there doesn't mean I was like them. You were there and you're not." 
Adrienne smiled. "Okay, so we're both not like that but yet somehow we meet and end up going home together."
Damon had never wondered whether or not vampires could blush until then. He looked away. And no, the situation hadn't surprised him. He'd never known Michael to be wrong. Damon thought she looked beautiful in the moonlight. She smiled at him but her eyes widened and she stopped short. "Oh my god, my friends are still back there."
Damon hesitated, not knowing how to put it. "Well . . . um ..."
"We have to go back," she said.
Damon grabbed her arm. "That's not an option. Why don't you call them when you get home?"
Adrienne nodded and continued walking in the direction of her apartment. The look of fear wouldn't leave her face. "Do you think they'll be okay?"
Damon knew for a fact that they'd be killed if there was any threat of resistance. The humans who frequented the club would do anything to be a permanent member, the others too terrified of being killed if they squealed, and besides, who believed in vampires these days? "I'm sure they're fine."
He knew she didn't believe him but he was done trying to address her fears. They walked in silence until she slowed in front of her apartment building. Damon felt awkward, wanting desperately to come in but not being able to find the words. What now, should he kill her right on the street? He didn't want to. He clung to his high at the edges of his consciousness.
"Here it is," she said with finality, but didn't take a step towards it, just faced him and waited.
While Damon was deciding, he tried to find something meaningful in her eyes, something to tell him whether or not she was the one, but the idea was so foreign that he didn't know what he was looking for and gave up. He swallowed, trying to consciously squelch the eating compulsion. "Is it okay if I come in? I just want to make sure everything is okay before I leave you."  If she didn't invite him in he'd never be able to have late night visits while she was sleeping. He was hungry but hesitant, worried that feeding from her would be the end of their relationship. She'd wake up feeling violated and he'd be gone.
The elevator ride was awkward and she didn't say anything until the door of her apartment was open and she'd peeked inside. Damon could feel her tension. "Looks like the coast is clear," she said and let the door swing the rest of the way open.  
He couldn't feel any of his own kind inside, and when he stepped inside and no one tried to kill him, he was sure. It was a home to females. He could smell it as soon as he walked in. The perfume, potpourri, and hair products. Pink flowers in the couch. The second female in question, Damon could tell was sleeping in a back room. "I don't think its best to tell anyone what happened tonight," he said, but suspected it wasn't anything she'd want to share. "Why don't you call and check up on your friends?" He didn't care about the friends, he just wanted her distracted enough to feed. 
Adrienne sat down on the couch and picked up the receiver to a corded antique looking faux rotary phone. As she held the phone between her neck and shoulder and leaned in to dial the numbers, all Damon wanted to do was sink his fangs into her neck. She would taste great but he didn't want to risk it, still had "what if's" running in his mind. He instead drew his attention to the second heartbeat, the other female in the apartment, wondering if he'd be fast enough to get away from it. He decided to chance it because the sun was getting close to the horizon, and he could feel it there, creeping closer by the second. It just couldn't wait to spoil his night. "Can I use your bathroom?" 
Adrienne nodded. "Sure, it's the door around the corner, at the end of the hall."
Damon followed her directions, and found another door in the hall, the entrance to the second female's room. Yes, he had to do it, and right then. The door was unlocked. She looked angelic in the dim light, and maybe because he was high, he tried to guess what made up her scent. Strawberry shampoo, coconut soap, and an underlying scent of blood. It was that time of the month and that thought evoked the type of lust that was at once human and animalistic. He could hear Adrienne start a relieved conversation with her friends in the living room and new he didn't have time to linger. Maybe they'd gotten out and would have a long story to relay. 
Damon leaned over the sleeping figure. It was a shame that he hadn't gotten there earlier. He could've put Adrienne to sleep, and had more fun with her. But, the sun was becoming a bigger problem and he needed to move fast. She barely stirred as he laid his hands on her neck. He could feel her heart beating through her warm skin, and he urged her into a deeper sleep. He didn't know why humans did this, but as long as he was calm, and sent sleep type thoughts, they didn't feel him, had no idea that he was in the room. Her sleep was quick and deep and since it seemed easier than usual, he wondered if it was because he was getting better or because she was one that was used to being fed from. When his fangs pierced her skin, a sigh came from her lips, as if she were having a good dream. Maybe she was one of those zombie looking humans he'd seen at the club and it some coincidence. After the first taste Damon started pulling harder. Her blood tasted better than usual, and its potency hit him hard. It was better than what Lilith had, it was as good as the drug had been and he was amazed at how powerful he felt. He reluctantly finished feeding as he heard Adrienne's conversation wind down and she said goodbye. He sat up and looked down at the girl, noticing her features for the first time. She was pretty, still had a smile on her face, and he had an overwhelming human urge to kiss her lips. Within a couple of seconds he was closing the door behind him, his victim's wounds healing themselves while she slept the deepest sleep of her life.
Adrienne smiled when he walked back into the living room. "They're okay, my friends. Maggie got sick so they brought her home.
Damon doubted it. If they had survived, it was because they'd struck a deal. "That's great," he said, trying to sound genuine. He didn't move closer to Adrienne because of his full belly. He felt like he reeked of blood although knew better than to think that a human's sense of smell would be anywhere near as powerful as his. "I guess I'd better be going." 
Adrienne nodded and glanced at the windows that were partly obscured by heavy drapes. "It's late. The sun is coming up." Shit, how could he have lost track of that? The sky was lightening, but he was spared a few minutes by the buildings. Damon took a few steps for the door. "Hey, let me get your phone number," She said, suddenly seeming embarrassed. "In case I need rescued again." She was smiling but looking at the floor.
Damon thought up a quick lie. "I actually don't have a phone right now. I just moved into this new place. Oakstead apartments, near downtown. You know it?" He was nearly out of time. It was hard not to keep glancing at the window. He should have left five minutes ago. 
 "It's okay. I'll give you mine. You can call me from a payphone or something if you want to get together this week." Damon wondered if she was always that pushy, and if drapes could hold back the sun. "Where's a pen?" Adrienne mumbled, walking into the kitchen. 
"I'll come by to see you tomorrow night, like around, I don't know. After dusk, okay?" Damon took the opportunity to, as her back was turned, cross over the veil. Adrienne attempted to protest with pen in hand, when she looked up she found that she was alone and the front door was wide open.

Caught.

Damon walked in and swung the door shut behind him. He could hear Michael and what sounded like a group of people in the back bedroom so he slumped down on the couch, recalled his evening, and smiled to himself. Soon after, he heard the door behind him open. "Was it her?" Michael asked.
Damon didn't turn. "She's a pretty girl." He was still smiling.
"Pretty. You could've had your throat slashed, or worse, for pretty. There are tons of pretty girls in the city." Damon just shook his head. He was licking his lips, but he wasn't thinking about Adrienne anymore. He heard Michael sigh. "If she wasn't that special, why'd you play the gallant knight and rescue her, then?" Michael took two steps out and closed the door between them and the raucous in his room.
"Don't you already know? You know everything else," Damon said, glancing over his shoulder. Michael was leaning against the doorframe. Damon could smell the blood from where he was sitting.
"You think I spend my every waking moment trying to see into your future?"
"No," Damon said, defensive because he knew if faced with the same ability he couldn't resist spying on everyone. "I know you don't."
"Well, actually," Michael said, laughing. "I do. I just couldn't see anything. I had some sort of block." Damon wondered if his friend was still high. When he spoke again he was serious.  "You can never go back there again."
 "I lost my chance at living the wild life, I guess," Damon said, trying to judge how many voices were coming from Michael's room, but couldn't.
"Well, what did she taste like?" Damon could tell from just the tone that Michael was grinning.
"I didn't feed from her," Damon said. "She thinks the people she saw were pretending. Playing games. I couldn't let her think otherwise."
Michael shrugged. "Maybe you should think about going all the way, you know, changing her. Shit, there don't seem to be any rules right now anyway. Nobody cares."
"Why the hell would I do that?" Damon said, turning around on the couch. His reply was louder then necessary and he gritted his teeth, swallowed nervously. 
"Well, she's in danger and you love her. . ."
 "I do not love her." Again, he'd come off aggressive. "I don't even know her," Damon said, lowering his tone. "She's a pretty girl but. . ." He trailed off. "Why are you pressuring me?" He felt his anger rising and tried to control it.  
"I'm not pressuring you." Michael said, rolling his eyes. He stood up straight and put his hand on the doorknob to his room. "You must be starving then." 
 "I ate."
Michael raised his eyebrows. "You sure you want to pass? We're having a little after, after party in my room."
Damon shook his head and thought about the dark, solitary bedroom and the sleeping girl. "I'm beat."
"Well, make yourself at home," Michael retreating to his crowded bedroom.
Damon remained still as he stared off into space, feeling alone, until the dog with no name walked over and put his head on his lap. Damon didn't feel so bad then. Instead he went to bed wondering whether, if Adrienne had freckles on her face, it meant she had freckles everywhere else?

Having had enough of listening to Luna's alarm clock beep repeatedly for half the morning, Adrienne let herself into her roommate's room, reached under the nightstand and unplugged it from the wall. Luna was nothing more than a mop of hair under a pile of blankets.
"Luna," Adrienne said, standing over the bed with her arms crossed. When there was no reply she sat on the bed and nudged her until Luna finally stirred. 
"What?" Luna asked in a raspy voice, raising herself up on her elbows and looked up at Adrienne with her eyes barely open. 
"Don't you have work?" Adrienne asked. 
 Luna felt like she'd been sleeping for a week. "What time is it?" She asked more out of reflex since her head was cloudy and she wasn't even sure what day it was.
"Luna, your alarm clock has been going off for forty five minutes. You're late." Luna tried to sit up but winced and lay back down. Her body felt like it hadn't moved all night. She'd had a vivid dream, but couldn't remember more thinking someone was sitting at the foot of her bed. Somehow, it had left her exhausted. "What's the matter with you?" Adrienne asked.
"I don't know," Luna said, her throat straining to speak, "I hurt all over." She felt sore, just like she had the day after Mason had moved out. She'd spent the night crying and drowning her sorrows in wine. It hadn't been pleasant. But, God, she hadn't been crying had she? Just staying up late, thinking too much as usual.
"Were you feeling bad when you went to bed? You looked okay to me." Adrienne asked, becoming more concerned once the annoyance of the alarm clock was gone.
Luna shook her head. "No, I was fine." Maybe she was coming down with the flu. Or maybe her depression was catching up to her. She prayed every night for God to help her forget.
"Well, you look a little pale," Adrienne said, rubbing Luna's back through her flannel pajamas. Luna thought the touch was odd because while they'd known each other for half of their lives, Adrienne had never been the mothering type. It made her wonder just how bad she looked.  It was usually Luna's job to be the backbone, clean up the messes and be there when things went wrong. Growing up two houses down from each other and being best friends most of their lives, they'd gone through half their lives playing those roles. Adrienne was the flighty one, ready to take risks knowing that she always had someone to lean on. Luna? She had some regrets but shuddered to think where Adrienne would be if left to her own accord. Probably knocked up by some hillbilly from back home. It had been a natural decision to venture out into the city together, Adrienne to work as a hair dresser with aspirations of becoming a full time model. Luna had been undecided, and both of their plans had been working out.
Luna raised herself up by increasing degrees, since her head was having a hard time balancing. "Will you give me the phone?" She asked as she put her hand on her forehead. "I'll have to call Lou and tell him I'm not coming in today. He's going to have a fit." 
Adrienne left to find the cordless phone in the living room. Luna fixed her hair and put the back of her hand to her forehead. No fever. Maybe she was just sick of life. 
"Did you have fun last night?" Luna asked when Adrienne came back in with the phone.
"It sucked," Adrienne said shrugging as she handed Luna the phone, but her friend saw something in her eyes shift that told her she was lying. 
"Nothing exciting happened?"
Finally Adrienne's face broke into a smile. "I met a guy."
Luna tried to smile but even that hurt, she wasn't sure it came across successfully. "I guess it couldn't have sucked that much then."
Adrienne turned her face. She looked like she wanted to change the subject, and it made Luna want to talk about it more. She opened her mouth, but Adrienne stood before she could get another question out. "Can we get some light in here?" Adrienne asked as she leaned her to pick up the cords of the blinds, "It's beautiful outside." 
Luna cried out in pain when the afternoon sun blinded her, and she covered her eyes. It was enough to startle Adrienne into letting go of the string causing the blinds to fall with a sharp bang. 
"What the hell was that all about?" Adrienne asked, and Luna couldn't tell if she sounded angry or concerned.
"I don't know. It really hurt." Luna blinked, unsuccessfully trying to get rid of the glare. "Damn it, I feel like I'm hung over." 
Adrienne shook her head. "That is so weird."
"I know," Luna said, the glare fading aware but her eyes still pounding. She just hoped she'd feel better and not have to go to the doctor. Making barely above minimum wage once tips were added, didn't leave much for paying medical bills with no insurance. She shook it out of her head and focused on something else, the reason why her roommate looked so happy. "So who's this guy you met?"
"His name's Damon."
"That's a cool name." Sounded like someone who considered performance art a fulfilling career.
"Yeah, really cute. Black hair, nice eyes. He walked me home last night and he's supposed to stop by again tonight." Luna was surprised to see Adrienne seem genuinely excited about meeting someone. Usually she acted like she wasn't very interested and couldn't care less if they called until they showed any kind of affection. Then she'd hold on for dear life no matter how much of a loser they were.
"That sounds cool. I'll try to be scarce tonight," Luna said. She took a deep breath and knew she'd avoided it long enough. There was no way that she was going to be able to make it in to work if she could barely walk. She started dialing.

Damon woke up hours after the sun had set, surprising himself when he saw the time. The days really were shorter in the winter. Even Dog, which had begun to take on their habits, was still sleeping. Damon shook out a nice pair expensive of black pants and a matching black shirt from his bag. He'd adopted the custom from Lilith. Black was best at hiding blood stains. Since he'd nearly overslept his date and Michael wasn't there to distract him, he headed right to Adrienne's apartment.
She opened the door with a radiant smile. Damon was instantly reminded why he'd rushed over. To, for once, have a woman smile at him and mean it. He inhaled the scent of the living as he stepped through the threshold having already been invited from the previous night, and he missed everything he had been. He was struck with the realization that he should've fed before stepping into the house of the living. The night would be difficult.
"I wasn't sure that you were going to show up," Adrienne said as she closed the door behind him. She looked nice in a pink striped skirt, sandals, and a pink top. It fit her.
Damon turned to her and smiled back. She'd gotten all decked out for him, make up, perfume. It suddenly occurred to Damon that Lilith had never needed those things to be beautiful. "I always try to keep my word," he said. "Besides, I needed to make sure that no one needed rescuing." He moved closer to her. Was she wearing clothes from The Gap? He would've killed for her phone number when he was alive, but now what he'd had Lilith, what competition would a human girl hold? He wanted to smack himself for these thoughts. Was he actually entertaining a relationship with a human girl? It was impossible. He wished he'd never come. 
"Good to know that someone's looking out for me." She walked past him, slipping a piece of paper into his hand. Once their skin brushed, he felt her pull away instantly, as if she were shocked at how cold it was. 
"What's this?" He asked, as he opened the folded slip. Her handwriting was the bubbly girl kind, and she'd written in pink ink.
"It's my phone number. I wanted to make sure that I gave it to you before you disappeared again," she said, the corner of her mouth upturned. She had a sarcastic tone that made Damon sigh mentally. Lucas would kill him if he knew he was there. Why had he come back? Curiosity. Desperation. "So, where are we going tonight?"
Damon hesitated and his mental bankroll went through his head. He'd never been one to pickpocket his victims. He shrugged. "I thought we could just stay here and catch a movie on TV or something. Stay out of danger for once."
"Oh," she said, and he could see that her smile had frozen and there was no sign of it in her eyes. She was dressed to go out. It was a good attempt, except that he was already tired of the pink theme, and her shoes were pinching her feet and making them red. There was an awkward silence.
Damon sprawled on the couch, uninvited, and gave his best encouraging smile. He figured that Adrienne guessed correctly that he was unemployed. She sat next to him and he could hear a deep rumbling inside of her. He'd forgotten that humans needed food too. Yes, he guessed a guy showing up at a girl's house at that hour, it would be reasonable that she'd be expecting food. 
"Why don't we order in some take-out?" He asked. Shit, he hadn't thought that girls that skinny thought about eating, but what did he know? 
She looked instantly relieved. "How about Chinese?"
"That's fine. I'm not really hungry, though." Damon could tell his reply wasn't the correct answer, but he didn't want to have to pretend to enjoy human food when just the smell of it made him sick. He cursed himself for forgetting his dating etiquette. He knew he should've been making more of an effort, but he just couldn't believe he was sitting in her living room acting as if everything was normal and no one in the room was dead.
"You sure you don't want anything? I have a menu around here. There's this great place that delivers." Adrienne walked into the kitchen and Damon couldn't help but follow her with his eyes. He couldn't tell if it was his human or animal side taking over. "So, what did you do today?"
Damon wanted to laugh. He didn't know how to answer. A door opened down the hall and Damon turned to see the face that he realized had been the reason he'd came back. It was the brunette that had tasted spectacular the night before. Except then she had been a peaceful spirit who looked, once he'd seen her in the light, seen her smile, than she'd tasted. She froze when she saw him looking at her, and blushed, wrapping her arms around herself, obviously embarrassed to be caught in her pajamas, nothing indecent, just red shorts and tank top with white martini glasses on them. Once their eyes had made contact he just wanted to taste her warmth again more than anything, and was glad that he hadn't eaten because he thought that he could satisfy all of his urges with that one girl. 
"Sorry," she said in a small voice, "I thought you guys were going out."
Damon glanced at Adrienne, who seemed to purposely look away. He held out his hand after an awkward silence. She smelled more exquisite then he remembered. Yes, exquisite was the word, and he'd never even used that word to describe anyone, not even Lilith, before. "My name's Damon," he said. Her warm soft hand met his and he wondered if she found cold hands sexy.
"Luna," she said, with a genuine smile, "It's nice to meet you." Once she'd said it, there seemed to be some recognition in her face because her expression turned thoughtful and she cocked her head to the side. "Have we met before?" 
"I'm sure haven't," Damon said, breaking eye contact to glance at Adrienne's general direction. "Would you like to join us for dinner?" He asked, ignoring the sound of a drawer slamming in the kitchen. Luna looked startled as she snatched her hand back. "My treat," he said, although her attention was now on her roommate in the kitchen. He'd never liked someone so quickly in his life.
"Um, no thanks," Luna said, still looking over her shoulder at the kitchen. "I already ate. Thanks though," she said as she turned back to him and her eyes lingered on his. He knew he must have broken about a million dating rules in the past ten minutes but the only thing that mattered to him was why Luna's face was flushed, and why her heartbeat had become escalated. "It was nice to meet you," she said as she backed away into the hallway where she'd come. "You guys have a good night." Their eyes met one last time before she disappeared back into her bedroom. 
Damon was left with an angry woman. Damon flashed his most charming smile. Adrienne had abandoned the thought of take out and was eating an apple when she walked back out from the kitchen. "Well, now that she's gone why don't we watch a movie?" He asked, trying his best to act interested when he was really just thinking hard about how he could get into the other room with Luna. "I think one of those old B movie horror flicks is on tonight. I thought the best way to keep you safe was to keep you indoors."
Adrienne finished her apple, threw out the cork, and sat next to him on the couch without saying a word either way. She turned on the TV and with Damon's made up instructions, found a movie close enough to what he was talking about, and settled in beside him. He put his arm around her, tried to make small talk, and could tell by her body language that no amount of good looks was going to make up for the fact that she already considered him an unemployed loser and was just waiting for him to go. He did think about going and returning once the girls were asleep, but his hunger wouldn't let him wait. So instead he decided to save himself any more awkward situations and just sent out some calming thoughts throughout the apartment, enough for the girls to feel tired. It was a first for him, but Adrienne's body gradually pressed heavier against him, her breath slowed and as Damon looked down at her, controlling his urges in order to save his thirst for Luna, who had the prettiest name he'd ever heard, and waited until she was unconscious. 
Damon picked up the remote and turned the TV off. When Adrienne didn't stir he closed his eyes and tried harder. It was like whispering suggestions into Luna's ear. He saw himself leaning over her shoulder, the air pushed through his vocal chords stirring the hair from her neck. He could faintly hear her breathing from where he sat, and when it became shallow and steady like Adrienne's, he knew it was time. 
Damon carefully pushed Adrienne off of him and crept down the hall, loving the anticipation, loving the sound of her breathing, the smell of her as he approached. The overhead light was on, but the switch was right by the door, and he flicked it off. Luna had been reading, but he didn't bother to move the book, just straddled her with one knee between her legs, the other beside her hand holding the book. Her warm skin almost aroused him, and if it hadn't been for how strongly he was drawn to her beating chest, he would've kissed her. Instead he placed his lips on the skin below her ear and bit. He began feeding slowly, trying to prolong the experience for as long as he could. Her blood was like liquid silk on his tongue. He wanted to be inside of her forever, and he ran his thumb down her jawbone, feeling the slender line. He placed two fingers of his other hand just below his own chin so he could feel her heartbeat, keep himself from going too far.
Damon was lost in her, completely unaware of Adrienne creeping down the hallway until he heard her call out to him in what he would later consider, barely be more than a whisper. His heart couldn't beat but for a second he thought it did, maybe it had been Luna's, but he sat up straight, breaking whatever spell he'd had over Luna, whatever moment or connection they'd had, and causing her artery to momentarily erupt before the magic set in and his saliva went to work cauterizing the wound. Luna's chest seemed to wake first, her breath suddenly caught in her throat, as if she'd forgotten to breathe. She woke dead awake and opened her eyes, catching him before he could cross over the veil. He knew he'd blown it.
Luna's mouth flew open and she screamed right into his face, but she couldn't have known he was still there, had felt the hot air from her breathe on his face, because to her, he'd already gone, along with the weight of his body pressed against hers. Adrienne opened the door, snapped the light on, and they both froze for a moment.  Then, the trance was broken and Luna started hyperventilating over the onset of realization that her body was covered in a warm, slick substance. And it was red. She couldn't even think, just jumped out of the bed and felt it drip down her legs. Blood.  The book tumbled after her, face down in the speckles of blood in the carpet and her first reaction, with rising panic in her throat, was to wonder how in the hell she'd be able to explain the bloodstains to the librarian because no matter how well she tried to clean it off, blood always stained.  
"Luna," Adrienne said, moving closer as if she wanted to help but Luna knew that her friend was afraid to touch her. "Are you okay?"
Luna started shaking her head slowly. "I don't know," she said. "I don't think so." She'd had a dream. He was on her bed. Was she hurt?
"Where are you bleeding from?" Adrienne asked, looking horrified. 
"I don't know," Luna said again, and her brain was still in panic mode and refused to function. She just couldn't stop staring at her hands, at the red seeping under her fingernails.  
"Luna, what happened to you?"
"I don't know," She said, again. No, no pain anywhere. Her breathing was starting to return to normal and her thoughts started to become clearer. The library didn't need to know. She'd reimburse them. She'd say she'd left it on the bus. The book could be burned. It had to be burned. There was something inherently wrong about a book whose pages were bloodstained, and she sure as hell wasn't going to keep it as a souvenir.
"Are you hurt?" Adrienne asked. 
"I don't know," Luna said. Where would she burn it? In her waste paper basket? That was a crazy thought. The whole apartment would go up in flames.
"Luna, I don't see where you're bleeding." Adrienne said, moving closer and finally managing to get Luna's eyes to focus on her.  
 "I don't know." It was all she could say. The book didn't matter. What mattered was that her life had just been transformed into a horror movie. She wondered if she'd still believe the events in the morning.
"Luna," Adrienne said, trying to keep her attention. She sat down on the end bed, which hadn't gotten much blood on it at all, and looked up at her. "Was it Damon? Was he in your room?"
Luna didn't say anything at first. But yes, Damon had been there. Doing what, she didn't know, couldn't remember. And hadn't she been reading? Why was the light off? "I thought it was dream," she said, and she couldn't help but feel sorry, for what, she didn't know.  
 "If it was a dream, then where did the blood come from?" Adrienne was looking at her own hands.
Luna shook her head but although she remembered dreaming that had been in her bed, he hadn't scared or hurt her, and really remembering it had felt almost like she'd had a sex dream about him. She felt her face redden in spite of herself. She'd liked it. "I don't know. I'm not hurt." She was starting to feel awkward, standing in the middle of the room with blood splattered all over herself.
Adrienne sighed, not knowing what to do. "I must've fallen asleep. Luna, I'm so sorry, I should've known better than to bring a stranger here." Adrienne was close to tears and Luna could hear the betrayal she felt in her voice. "I thought I could trust him." 
Luna felt there had to be another explanation. A nose bleed or something combined with a weird dream about a guy she'd just met. A really good looking guy who didn't seem like he'd ever do anything like that. "Did you see him leave? Did he have blood on his clothes?"
"Luna, I fell asleep and when I woke up, he was gone. When I came in here, you were by yourself." Something seemed to occur to her. "Luna, did he touch you?" Adrienne asked as if it were something more scandalous then waking up in your own blood. 
Luna's hands fell to their sides. God, that wouldn't have been so bad, would it? The minute she'd met him outside in the living room she'd wished she'd joined Adrienne the other night because maybe she would've met him first. "No. He didn't do anything like that to me." She'd seen Damon so clearly in the dim room before Adrienne had come in, and if that was a real memory Adrienne would've seen him leave. People didn't disappear. "I don't know where this blood came from, I don't feel any pain. I mean, maybe he hurt himself and . . ." She couldn't finish that sentence. It didn't fit. 
"I'm so sorry." Adrienne looked close to tears again.
"It's okay," Luna said, doing the reassuring this time, regaining her more comfortable role. "You didn't know." Adrienne looked even more guilty and swallowed hard. "I think I'll take a shower now," Luna said as an attempt to break the heavy mood. The blood was drying and feeling sticky on her skin. She needed to feel clean. Just thinking about the blood was making her feel nauseous.
Adrienne nodded. "Just make sure you're not hurt. Maybe we should take you to the hospital to be sure. They have rape kits and stuff, you know, to be sure."
Luna averted her face. "Really, I feel fine. It's probably just a nose bleed or something." Adrienne looked doubtful, but Luna couldn't take it any longer and left the room. While she was in the bathroom she could hear Adrienne scouring the apartment for any sign of Damon, and for some reason Luna didn't think she would find anything. She couldn't quite help thinking, beyond any rationale, that Damon had just been a dream.

As soon as Damon's back hit the cool wall of the elevator, he crossed back over the veil and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He jabbed the lobby button four times and stuck his head out of the hallway, listening to make sure that yes, he still heard two heartbeats in that apartment and yes, she's stopped screaming. He'd never lost control of a situation before. He's been completely off guard, he'd gotten too comfortable. Luna. He could've stayed there all night. Before he even got out onto the street, Damon knew that his road would lead him right back there.
Michael was sunk low on the couch, watching TV when Damon entered. 
"You're not partying it up tonight?" Damon asked.
Michael shrugged. "I'm bored with going out." He took a sip out of a mug that was clearly full of blood. Damon licked is lips, still tasting the bum who'd just happened to ask him for a dollar as he was walking up the street. He couldn't resist, the animal was still in the pilot seat. "What have you been up to?" Michael asked.
Damon smiled in spite of himself. "Interesting night."
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? It's still early." A cloud of dust flew up into the air when Damon sat down next him. There was no one to breathe it in. Michael gave him a smirk. "Did you go visit your cute little human?" Damon nodded. "I take it that you finally got some." Damon smiled again but shook his head. Michael turned his attention back to the TV. "This human TV is shit. Is this what you used to watch?" He switched the channel again. "Look, a show starring me."
"Michael," Damon said, turning to him, "When I feed from her roommate, it's like nothing I've ever felt before."
"Then dump your cute human and start seeing the roommate."
"I think I spooked them. I was almost caught. I think they saw me." Michael cringed. Damon nodded in agreement. After a moment of silence Damon couldn't help but say it. "So it looks like for once that your prophecy didn't come true. I mean, the human wasn't "the one," right? I was instantly attracted the roommate when I saw her. I don't know that I really believe in that stuff, anyway."
Michael head slowly swiveled to focus on Damon, his face blank. "What are you talking about?"
"Your prophecy about meeting my 'soul mate'." Damon thought he should've known better than to bring it up, but it was bothering him. If Michael could be wrong about one thing, then what about everything else?
Michael just snickered, a little too much malice in his face. "I guess you're right, Damon," Michael said. His tone said that he didn't wish to continue the discussion. Damon guessed that he was sensitive about his accuracy rate. An advertisement for a phone psychic came on. $3.99 a minute.
Damon sighed and changed the subject. "Are you planning on sitting here all night?"
Michael shrugged. "I got my food, my entertainment. Hey, look at that bitch. You think I could take her? Vampires my ass, they look more like trick or treaters." He shook his head and looked at Damon. "You got anything else in mind?"
"I don't know," Damon said, stretching out his legs. "I thought maybe we could go out again."
Michael cringed. "I don't think we can go to Twilight again, Damon," he said, looking awkward. "I think Kris was pretty upset with you. I'm sure even Lilith knows about that scene by now."
"Michael, I'm not interested in humans right now, so that's not an issue. And I don't care what Lilith thinks," He added, although in the back of mind he half expected Lilith to walk into the room and cut his head off just for saying that, and glanced at the door involuntarily. "I think maybe I'd like to meet a nice vampire girl. A girl more my species." Yes, someone who he didn't have to worry about killing, someone more reasonable to take his mind off the pretty human who tasted so good.
Michael looked relieved. "I think I know a place where I don't have to worry about you making a fool out of yourself."
 "Just don't take me where the crazy girls are." 

The White Room.

 "What are you doing?" Adrienne asked when she saw Luna carrying an overstuffed trash bag into the kitchen
"They're ruined," She said, her lips pouted despite her stark resolution. She stuffed the package, which contained the library book wrapped in the middle. They blood stains were beyond explanation. Adrienne saw once Luna came back into the living room that her roommates' skin was pink and shiny after what seemed like the longest shower in modern history. "Blood got on them."  
"You could've soaked them overnight."
"It's alright," Luna said, shaking her head. "I have more sheets." It was a no-brainer. She never even wanted to see that specific shade of Cape Cod blue ever again in her life. She had a sudden pang for fear and loneliness and she doubted, yet again her decision to break away from her old life. Things might have been better.
"It's kind of late," Adrienne said, "I'm exhausted." Her face was turned away towards the clock on the wall, anywhere but her friend's face.
The guilt feeling rose in her and Luna felt flushed. "Don't worry about me. I'll lie on the couch and watch TV." She briefly wondered if Damon would come back but knew better because they had made a run through the apartment, making sure the front door was bolted and all windows locked. No one was getting in. "I might sleep once the sun comes up."
 "Are you going to be okay?"Adrienne looking over the glasses she only wore at night and in the company of her closest confidante. Luna liked to think that she wore them for the sole purpose of looking down to her friend the way she would to a small child. Who was mentally handicapped.
Luna nodded and wrung her hands nervously. "Maybe you can just leave your door open?" What she wouldn't give to be at her Mom's house right then. She felt like when she was six and she was afraid to put even one foot on the flesh colored carpet for fear of the alligators living under her bed.
Adrienne's own guilt was apparent in her expression. She was unaccustomed to reassuring. "Just wake me up if you need anything, ok?" 
Luna smiled, not sure if she was conscious, or stuck in the greatest nightmare of her life. 

"The women you'll meet tonight are different from the humans you've dated. They're more direct," Michael said over his shoulder to Damon. "A little more wild than what you're used to."
Damon smiled, thought back to Lilith and how much he'd wanted her erased from existence. He'd had some insight into how wild the females of his species could be. "Michael, you have no idea how much directly related experience I possess in that area."
Michael considered this then said, "Well buddy, in that case, I think you'll find these girls a breeze."
Damon laughed and felt uplifted, as if for a brief moment he had nothing to worry about.  "Michael, what's the best blood you've ever tasted?" He asked.
Michael paused at the edge of the alley and turned, looking ashamed. "Well honestly, between you and me, I guess it would be the unmentionable stuff that you can only get off the black market. I mean, it's not completely unobtainable on your own, but you've got to admit it takes a black heart to get stuff like that on your own. I'm not sure I'm cut out for that kind of violence."
Despite the harshness, it had been better than even Luna's, but he'd never admit to drinking it. "Now's not the time for politics," Damon said, and he believed it. He was tired of it, and half wished he'd never met Lucas.
"That's right, now's the time for girls." Michael darted past him and after ducking to the left and nearly losing him, Damon found him stopping abruptly at an unmarked door. "Here we are," Michael said.  It was nearly pitch black in the alley and Michael leaned towards him. "These places are hidden because they're much more like human coffee houses than night clubs you usually see."  Michael opened the door and walked right in. No secret codes or passwords in that place. Even before he entered he knew it was more his speed. Just a harmless coffee house, was his first reaction. Vampires were sitting in groups talking, or reading silently. Just like humans, and appearing utterly harmless.
Damon put a hand on Michael's arm to stop him. "They really drink coffee here?"  He scanned the menu before realizing that instead of different flavors as available in human coffee houses, there instead was the option of strengths of espresso as well as blood added for flavoring. 
Michael nodded. "Yeah, it's an interesting effect. Sends a jolt to the system, almost makes you feel like the blood's flowing again." He shrugged. "It's something to do. And our kind, as you can imagine, can talk for hours."
Damon hadn't realized that the black market had become so mainstream. It was something that he'd plan to discuss with Lucas. Things were dangerously approaching a human genocide magnitude, dangerously close to the farming of the human species.
Michael ordered an espresso with a shot of "red." Damon ordered his black although, with being surrounded by so much food, he was starving. There was no mention of cream or sugar.  
Michael approached a group huddled close together who'd called his name. A sultry blonde shared a seat with a brunette in a low cut cocktail dress, and an older man in a suit seated on a straight back leather chair ass said hello. Michael and Damon shared a cornering love seat. 
"What's going on?" Michael asked the crowd. Damon looked from one face to another. They were all staring right back. 
"Absolutely nothing," said the undertaker in the leather chair. Damon noticed the detail that had been taken into the man's dressing himself; the cufflinks, the wing tipped shoes. 
Damon cleared his throat. "I think I'll go mingle."
No one spoke until Damon was well out of earshot. He frowned, found a place against the wall and hoped the humiliation didn't show in his face.  
Damon wandered into an adjoining room that functioned as a library. Bookshelves painted in vivid colors took up every available amount of wall space. Comfortable chairs were scattered throughout, intermingled with poster sized artwork of humans being torn to shreds. The only inhabitant of the library was a pretty brunette with long hair hanging down to her waist sitting with her legs crossed on a recliner, completely engrossed in a novel. Damon was in the mood for good conversation but didn't want to bother her, so he sat down across the room in a position to keep a direct view of the doorway and sipped his coffee while he flipped through a magazine. Once he swallowed the now familiar bitter liquid, he felt a rush and his vision sharpened. He blinked. After the next sip, Damon felt a distinct quivering in his veins. It was strong, and it was waking his body up. He put the cup down, not sure he liked the feeling.
 He didn't recognize any of their periodicals. They seemed comprised of tabloid magazines claiming unexplained phenomena. Extraordinary events involving voodoo and such  There was one underlined article about vampires living among "us." That one was pretty accurate. He was two pages in when two pretty vampires peeked in through the doorway. He looked up upon hearing the distinctly British accent of the one in front. 
"Raven, are you ready to go?" Asked the red head.
Damon smiled at her. She stopped short and the woman behind her almost knocked her over. The red head smiled back and Damon was grateful to see a friendly face. The not so beautiful woman with kinky hair, upon a closer look, behind her went pale and grabbed the back of the red head's shirt and whispered something into her ear. 
Damon was sure that the contents of the message was not in favor of him, those hazel eyes never wavered, just continued to twinkle. Even her bottled Andy Warhol red hair appealed to him.
"Hi," she said to him, and that was all.
"Hey," Damon responded. She reminded him of this girl he'd dated for a short period of time, a few years before his death. Great in bed, but not too bright. Red heads, you've got to love them.
The girl named Raven glanced back and forth between them. "Whenever you're ready," she said, trying to regain her friend's attention.
The red hair girl shook her head, kept her eyes on Damon, and never lost that dazzling smile. "It's ok, sweetie. Take your time."
Raven nodded knowingly and then went back to her book. The redhead moved forward into the room despite the efforts of her friend who at first tried to hold her back but eventually gave up and just left the room. Red head walked over and sat next to Damon on the matching white fur loveseat.
"I'm Joan," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before."
"You haven't. I'm Damon." He was about to shake her hand then realized that he'd probably look like a moron.
 "Yeah," she confirmed as if she'd already suspected his identity. Did he have a target in his forehead? "Are you here by yourself?"
Damon started to nod then caught himself. "I'm here with a friend." There was an awkward silence in which he couldn't think of a thing that they could possibly have in common. "You come here a lot?" Damon asked, suppressing the urge to slap his palm against his forehead and call himself an idiot.
 "Not too much. I get tired of partying, you know? Chaos all the time, it's kind of unsettling if you stop and think about it. Sometimes I just need to sit." Damon smiled. "So I come here."
"Did I scare your friends away?" Damon asked, leaning forward and pushing his hair out of his eyes. Being a narc had its moments of redemption.
"They weren't into coming out here, anyway. It's not really the 'it' place to be." She crossed her arms in the awkward silence that followed. 
Damon nodded as if he understood, but he couldn't stand that even in death he wasn't as cool in reality as he was in his head. 
"I keep hearing that this place was going to be shut down," she said. 
"Yeah?" Damon pushed his hair out of his eyes. 
"Yeah." She raised her eyebrows. "I guess the powers that be aren't too happy with the additives in our coffee. I expect they prefer us to use cream." Her smile curled up in the corner. He couldn't tell by her seemingly genuine smile whether or not she was just trying to prove a point.
 "Well," Damon began, not letting it faze him. His smile was natural. "They could just serve it plain." He felt he might have been walking into yet another theological debate.
Joan giggled. "Then why would anyone come here?"
Damon put his black coffee on a side table where Joan couldn't see it. "It'd be a shame if they closed it down. This is the most comfortable I've felt since I stopped breathing."
Joan laughed and shook her head. Damon happened to glance at the doorway and spotted Michael about to stick his head in, then change his mind at the last second when he saw his friend wasn't alone and decided to walk by, but not before he managed to flash Damon a sparkling, toothy grin.
Joan saw it too and giggled again. Every time she did it, he couldn't help but smile. "Friend of yours?" Damon's smile turned into a grimace. "You kind of figure that with eternity, men would've figured out how to grow up." She met his eyes. "Things don't change much."
Joan's friend, Raven, who hadn't moved until then, slammed her book shut. "Let's go." 
Joan eyebrows were raised when she turned back to Damon. "Hey, after I drop my friends off, I was planning on going back to my place and having more of a private party. Would you and your friend like to come? I have this connection that's hooking us up with some live action." Her eyes twinkled. Damon looked away and ran his tongue over his incisors. He knew she was probably leading him into trouble, why else incite conversation consider who he was, and then immediately bring up politics? Despite that, Damon was interested in what she wanted to show him, so he nodded.
"Ok. Let me talk to my friend." Damon felt her eyes on his back. He found Michael leaning against the wall far separated from the general public, with his arms crossed awaiting his arrival.
 "No," Michael said as soon as Damon was within earshot.
"What?"
"I'm not going." 
"Why? Do you see something?" Damon asked. For the first time he considered that someone other than Lilith might actually cause him bodily harm. Surprisingly, he wasn't scared.
The intensity of Michael's gaze made Damon feel that he was trying to reading his thoughts. "You've lost the faith. What does it matter what I tell you?" Damon started to object, but Michael cut him off. "Look, Damon. Take it for what it's worth. I'm not going with you. You've made it this far on your own."
Damon nodded. Luna, the human, was out of the question for the near future, unless he lost his self control and decided to take it by force. He was curious about Jean's intentions and trusted that if it were really a dangerous situation, Michael would let him in on it. "Leave your door unlocked. I'll be in late."
The serious demeanor cracked and Michael's light mood reappeared. "Come on, Damon. Why would I need to lock the door?" He put his hand on Damon's shoulder. "See ya, buddy." 
Damon paused. Michael's foreboding tone made him say what he would have otherwise just thought. "Michael," he said, shrugging, "I'm a believer." He didn't waste time. There was a pretty girl waiting. 
Damon found Joan by the front door. "Ready?" He asked. 
"My friends went on ahead," she said as they walked into the solitary black alley. Joan smiled at him. Damon wondered if she would've looked nearly as perfect if she were still breathing.  "Do you usually go home with woman you've just met?"
"No," he said, reminded of the night Lilith first brought him home like she'd just bought a new puppy from the puppy mill. "Never."
Joan squinted at him from the corner of her eye. "Never is a long time."
Damon was embarrassed. He was early in the game yet. 
They crossed the street and Joan turned down a narrow alley between an office building and a drug store that was still open. It went deep into where even street lights couldn't reach. Damon followed the scrape of her shoes against pavement, though he could see her eyes when she turned to check on him, a faint green reflecting back at him. She stopped, letting his body come to rest against hers. When she leaned in, Damon couldn't help but miss feeling hot, moist breath on his face. He pushed the thought away. He had humans on the brain.  
"I've wanted to do this since you walked in," she said, and kissed him. Her lips were tepid, and chapped. As his tongue ran along her incisors, he wanted nothing more than to crack the skin of her neck. He pricked his tongue against the sharp point, and she moaned when she tasted it in her mouth. His hand took hold of the hair at the nape of her neck, and turned her head to the side, exposing the taunt skin.
The sharp retort of a footstep made them both freeze. Damon felt the tremor of a growl escape his lips. He saw the green glow of her eyes shift in the same direction. From the smell emanating from the figure stumbling towards them told him it was just a vagrant. Damon started towards him, already tasting the warm blood flowing into his mouth, thinking it may be better then the cold liquid sitting, in Joan's veins, but her fist tightened on the sleeve of his jacket and held him back. 
"Better things are ahead," she breathed. "Patience."  Then all he felt was air where she'd been. It was so dark in the alley that he didn't follow by sight, as much as by her smell, and that small giggle that escaped her lips before she turned a corner. He no longer tasted blood in his mouth, his tongue had healed. He peeked his head around the corner, and then cautiously approached the hissing sound. The floodlight hanging at the top of the building allowed him to clearly see two figures spray painting a monstrous sized stencil against the back of the building. 
Joan stood there with all of the lights shining down on her head, her eyes raised to the emerging work of art. "It's beautiful," she said.
The two masked men dressed in sweat suits nodded, but didn't stop working. Damon stepped out of the shadows. The graffiti was nearly two stories tall and was of a familiar tribal symbol that Damon recognized. The stained glass effect they'd used made him wonder how long it had taken them. Now was the finishing black outline. Any human who saw it would assume that it was just graffiti but to Damon the common symbol, resembling two fangs in the shape of a cross, told him the building was owned and inhabited by the dead. It was a safe haven.
Joan waved him past. "Let's go." He found her outstretched hand in midway through, and resisted the urge to pull it away once the cold palm rested against his. By the door of the building two blocks down that she stopped at had the same common symbol embedded into a plaque by the entrance. 
"This is it," she said, looking at him intently, like she wanted to memorize his face. It made him uneasy so when she started to turn, he pulled her back. 
"What's the matter with you?" He asked, his stomach sinking wondering if maybe Michael had forgotten to tell him something.
Her eyes dropped. "I'm just not looking forward to sharing you with my friends." 
 Damon pulled her back a few steps from the threshold of the building, fighting off an immediate flight response.  "Let's go some place private, then. We can go back to my place." He thought of Michael's dirty apartment. "Or someplace else."
"No," she said, too quickly, pulling him in the opposite direction. Damon stopped dead in his tracks and their hands pulled taut. "Well, I promised you some fun, didn't I?" She sounded frustrated.
Damon took a step, not able to shake the sinking feeling that he'd momentarily put into effect a sequence of events that couldn't be stopped. He made a conscious decision to deal with, and not regret, whatever was ahead. He didn't like it, but figured there wasn't much to lose.

Across the city, Luna woke up screaming from another nightmare. 

Michael changed the channel from where he lay on the couch, and turned up the volume.

The elevator stopped on the third floor. It wasn't until he'd crossed the threshold towards bleary white light that he realized Joan hadn't moved. With the searing pain that began in his retinas came the clarity that he'd walked into something bad. White was Kris's favorite color. Damon turned back to her, averting his eyes, but didn't attempt to stop the door from closing. She looked so sad, and he was starting to know why.
"I'm sorry," she said, a barely audible sound that managed to slide from between her cold, cold lips. He wasn't sure it made him feel better.
Damon swallowed and turned. The room didn't contain Kris, as he'd expected, it didn't contain anyone, and it was just as white as the first place he'd seen Adrienne. And it was here that Damon had to consider for a split second that he'd gone deaf. Yes, he knew better, but he'd never, since he'd woken up scared and deceased, not been able to hear anything but the sounds of his own body, which was nothing. This place was sound proof.  He could smell the bleach. It made sense. A place like that would need to be bleached to the point where the sheets would eventually dry out, and crack. Damon stood there, trying his best not to speak or move. He knew something was stirring beneath the surface, but he wasn't going to invite it. He had plenty of time to wait.

Adrienne practically threw herself onto the makeshift bed on the living room floor. Had the night passed so quickly? She didn't feel any better, or more rested, just worse as time progressed. "What happened?" Luna was a bit touched to find that her friend was out of breath. "Did he come back? Did you see him?" Adrienne asked.
Luna shook her head. "It was just another dream." 
"You were saying his name," Adrienne said, as if it may have caused the same amount of harm as sleeping with the front door wide open. The statement was all the invitation Luna needed to lose it. Her face crumpled, she could feel it. Oh God, please help restore reality. Luna covered her face. "I'm so sorry. This was my fault," Adrienne said, and put her arms around Luna's shoulders. It felt good to press against a body that she knew wasn't going to disappear, not unless Luna had genuinely gone nuts, and all of her friends had become imaginary. 
Luna shook her head, trying to keep her shoulders from trembling, trying to keep her whole body from trembling. "It's not your fault. I just wish that I knew what the hell is going on."
"Well, I'm sure you'll feel better now that it's morning," Adrienne said, looking exactly like she'd gotten just as much as sleep as Luna had.
Luna nodded but wasn't sure about it. It was just dawn, no person in their right mind would be up yet, and nothing seemed real, she still even half expected that she was still dreaming. "What time is it?"
Adrienne shrugged and yawned. "Not sure, early. Maybe you should take a bath or something. Make up on sleep time this afternoon."
Luna wondered where Damon was at that moment when she was trying to reorganize her life. Where did he live? Did he think of her too? And just what in the hell had he done to her? 

After a long while, what may have been hours for all he knew since there was no clock in the room, Damon sat down. But he didn't relax. It was too surreal there, and he couldn't help but think1 about his decisions in life, and well, thinking was probably the last thing he needed to do. He got up and paced a bit. His mom used to say that he didn't get his impatience from her side of the family. It's interesting how all of his bad traits somehow came from his Dad, a man he still couldn't recall ever meeting. 
Damon approached the white desk set in the middle of the room opposite the king sized bed.  He sat down on the white and stainless steel chair and took the pure white quill in his hand. The ink blotter was empty. There went the plan of ruining the carpet. Every detail had been thought out. Kris was an asshole, but he wasn't an idiot. Damon opened the top drawer and found a pile of blank paper. He picked up the stack and then let the paper run through his hands and slide onto the floor, disappearing into the carpet. He was sick of white. It made him want to vomit. He slammed the drawer hard enough to shake the desk and startle himself. No one came running out from the elevator, no disembodied voice coming from a speaker box. He'd watched too many movies.  
Fuck. Damon laid his forehead on the desk. He was in extreme anxiety mode. It was at that angle that he noticed the black ink glaring at him from the stark white floor. A page must have been mixed into the stack. He dropped to his knees to pull it out from beneath the other papers. It was hand written with a fancy stroke. The words made no sense the first time he read it, so he sat there and read it over and over. 
 Make yourself at home. You are about to be taught a lesson in hunger.
Damon didn't feel the paper slip from his fingers as all of his energy was focused on prying the elevator shaft doors open.  He couldn't fit his fingers in the creases no matter how hard he tried. After several failed attempts, he gave up. Earlier, outside, when the sick feeling had made its way down to his stomach, and when he'd felt fate teasing him as he approached what looked like a normal apartment building, he'd never considered that he may have gotten into something inescapable. Damon simply thought that he'd face the challenge, or deal with the pain, or take the verbal abuse, and just once ride away into the fucking sunset. The white room was so much worse, possibly the worst thing you could do to an animal. He was being starved.
 Such a dreadfully pure white, Damon could barely focus on the walls much less scrutinize them for any kind of weakness. He tried crossing over the veil to try and reduce the glare a bit, but it did as much as staring into the sun with shades on. He was sure it was intentional. Everything that involved Lilith in the slightest way was planned out to the smallest detail. He was being held in a prison for vampires, created by vampires. They'd finally done it. He'd been one upped.
Damon started forcing himself to breathe, reminding himself that he was not deaf, although his panicked mind still couldn't shake the thought. He stopped after a few practices because what he mostly felt was that he was trying to clear out cobwebs. He looked around, first to the left, then to the right, having no idea how he could possibly begin an escape. Damon resigned to the only thing he could do. He waited.

An Old Friend.

"Adrienne?" Luna asked. She had her hands clasped nervously in front of her, looking down onto the mass of curly hair. Adrienne was sitting with her feet up on the couch, which Luna hated, and was watching TV.
"Yeah?" She asked, sounding as if she'd been falling asleep. 
Luna didn't hesitate before asking, since she'd spend the last twenty minutes deciding on whether or not she should ask, and had checked her eyes in the mirror to make sure that the wild look was gone and her hair was combed and smooth and her clothes matched, and they weren't wrinkled. Basically, she wanted to make sure that she didn't look like she was losing her mind. The last thing she wanted was for Adrienne to suspect that Luna was 'off.' Adrienne would completely fly off the handle once Luna had asked the question on her mind. But Luna had never felt any kind of strong instinct until then, so she decided to follow it. "Where'd you meet him?"
They both knew whom she was talking about. What other 'he' was there now? Adrienne hesitated a moment as if only to illustrate how much she didn't think it was necessary to answer the question. "I met him at the club you gave me passes to. I told you that," Adrienne said fairly calmly, and Luna was impressed.
Luna couldn't help wondering if there was a connection between Damon and the blue eyed stranger at the diner who'd given her the passes. Maybe they'd known each other. Maybe she'd been set up. It was a long shot, since she considered herself an unusual target for some conspiracy, but so was waking up from a nightmare covered in blood. What were the odds of that? "No, I mean, where was he? In the VIP section? Did he approach you? I'm just wondering."
"You know what?" Her face contorted into a sneer. "I don't want to talk about this right now," Adrienne said, getting up. "I'd like to attempt to have a somewhat normal day." There was the attitude, and Luna immediately felt bad about even asking in the first place. She should've just let it go like Adrienne wanted her to do. Why couldn't she do it? 
"Where are you going?" Luna asked, having a miniature panic attack about being left alone. She supposed she should go to home to her Mom's. Her mother at least always indulged Luna's clingy nature. That was part of the problem.
Adrienne glared at her over the kitchen counter. "I'm going to make a protein shake for lunch. I have a photo shoot this afternoon." 
There was no reason for Adrienne to freak out about it. It's not like Luna wanted to track the guy down or anything. Not really.  She followed Adrienne into the kitchen. "Why don't you want to talk about it?" Then, Luna came to a startling conclusion. Her jaw dropped. "Adrienne, did he do the same thing to you?"
Adrienne just looked at her, disgusted. She slammed the milk down on the counter. "Do you think I'd let him in this house if he did something like that to me?"
Luna focused hard on the box of Cheerios sitting on the counter. "Those dreams seemed so real, you know? And to a certain extent, they had to be, because of all the blood. But it was weird, I felt like I was seeing what he was seeing. Like, I could see myself. There's just got to be more to it than that. Something happened last night."
Adrienne continued mixing her shake as if no conversation were going on at all. Luna wanted to knock her glass off of the counter, wanted the satisfaction of hearing it shatter, but she'd never, ever, have the guts. Adrienne got the point where she had her finger on the blend button before she finally lost patience with Luna watching her. "Don't you work today?"
Luna shook her head. "No, I'm off." She bit her lip and waited through the blending noise until Adrienne was pouring her shake into the glass. "Do you have his phone number or anything? E-mail address? Screen name?"
Adrienne looked at her as if she'd suggested she they call another planet. "Why in the hell would you want to contact him? Don't you realize how lucky you are that you weren't hurt? There are some fucked up people in this city, and we met one of them last night. You should be worrying about calling the police. He practically raped you."
"He didn't practically rape me," Luna said but hated that she sounded like she was sticking up for him. "I just want to know what happened. I want to know that I'm not crazy, that it really happened to me."
Adrienne slapped her hands on the counter and Luna noticed that her ice was melting. "Luna, you saw him sitting next to me on the couch before you went to bed. He's real. The blood that was covering you, that was real. I don't understand where the confusion is."
Luna nodded. If she didn't do it now then she'd never be allowed to bring it up again because Adrienne was no doubt the dominant one in the relationship. Once Luna backed down on something she knew there wasn't anything she could do to take it back or rectify it. "Did he seem strange to you when you met him? Did he seem 'off'? I didn't get that vibe from him at all." Adrienne pressed the button again, filling the apartment with a sound that had always reminded Luna of a lawnmower. She didn't care how angry Adrienne was. It felt good to get it out, even if Adrienne would never, ever, be able to understand what it felt like to see that dim face leaning over the bed. Luna felt it again then, what she'd felt when she opened her eyes, a mix between lust and horror. While in the bath she wondered what it would've been like if she hadn't woken up frightened. She reveled in the thought of it and then put an abrupt halt on her brain, cautioning the development of some kind of blood fetish.
The silence after the blender was pounding in her ears. "If you want to see him so bad, you can look him up yourself," Adrienne said, softly. It was simple for her, but with the subject closed for Luna, she didn't know what else to do. She thought she'd have to forget about the whole night, block it out, and move on. 

Damon waited.

Every thought went back to the incident. That's how she'd categorized it in her mind. The Incident. Washing the dishes, she had a lot of black dishes didn't she? His hair had been black, but it had been too dark to see the color of his eyes, just that they were pale, like his skin.  He'd looked almost sick, anemic, but his skin glowed a bit like in classic paintings, the paint the artists made themselves, the pigments were inaccurate and made their subjects looks like they were angels. Damon had looked like that, and she looked through her old text books to verify that yes, Damon looked like his skin was glowing a bit, was it the dream that did that? Had to be, because when he'd been sitting on the couch he'd looked normal. TV blood was so fake. She'd seen the real thing, and no matter how much they tried, they could never convey over the screen the warmth of it, could they? 
Sleeping was worse, she simply couldn't do it, she just sat up watching the TV without watching it, reading without looking at the book, just thinking too damn much. And praying, praying, praying. Lord, please help to stop the thoughts, to bring sleep, to bring resolution, to forgive her, to forgive Damon if he'd just come back, help her to relax. Oh God, she needed to relax. Luna had been fortunate that nothing horrible had ever happened to her in her life, but she still couldn't decide whether or not the incident was horrible or not.  Try as she might, she didn't hate or fear Damon the way that Adrienne did. She was getting to the point of obsession, and was starting to think that maybe if she could just talk to him, things would become clearer. But, she didn't know where to begin her search. That club, Twilight, where Adrienne had met him was a good start but she didn't know where it was, or even if it was a place Damon went to regularly. What if it'd been his first time there, just like Adrienne, and he never went back? He could be anywhere, a college student, work in the millions to jobs in this city. She got dressed and headed to her favorite coffee place. She needed stimulation. She needed to get fresh air. She was beginning to feel like her apartment was some kind of prison.
It was a quick walk, but there was a cold sort of chill in the air and no one on the street seemed to be smiling. Even when she came upon ROSIE's, the usual colored beaded curtains covering the windows and the college students smoking outside, there weren't any friendly faces, no one she knew.
After she ordered her drink, Luna heard someone calling her name and turned to see her friend Harvey, who she hadn't seen in years, sitting at a corner table by himself. She waved at him and after she paid for her coffee she walked over and took a seat in front of him. Harvey was one of her oldest friends from college and she'd lost touch after she'd dropped out. He was good looking with short brown hair and green eyes and she didn't know why she'd never pursued anything more than just a friendship with him. Oh yes, Mason. The eternal mistake. What she needed was a guy like Harvey just sitting there working on his laptop, drinking coffee and ultimately managing not to be a total jerk.
"How are you?" He asked, looking genuinely glad to see her. 
It was enough to bring her down a few notches with the brief thought of how she was doing. "I'm doing ok. How are you?" 
He looked happy and healthy and it made her smile to know that people were doing okay, that there were good people still left in the world. "I'm great. Man, what happened to you? I never see you around school anymore." 
Luna's face reddened and she was suddenly reminded of how much of a loser she was. "I just took some time off." She felt like crawling back into her bed and sleeping the rest of her life away.
"I thought so. I missed you hanging around the art department last semester. Remember we were supposed to be taking Griffin's Art History lecture together? I was worried about you, it was like you disappeared and no one knew what happened. Hey you remember Karen? The girl with the big black-framed glasses? She got a gallery booking and left school to start working full time. She had those great photographs from her trip to Death Valley, remember?" Luna nodded, glad to no longer the center of conversation. "You still live with that girl Adrienne?"
"Yeah, still in the same place." She shrugged. Then she felt guilty for the lost time, for never telling him that her school career was over. "Harvey, I'm sorry I never kept in touch. It seems like Adrienne's the only one that I ever talk to now." She looked down when she said it, feeling the guilt crushing her shoulders like it tended to do in the last couple of years. 
 "Don't feel bad, it's my fault too. I thought about stopping by there but I wasn't sure if you'd moved or not." Maybe he'd thought she'd blown him off on purpose. And she may have done it unconsciously, she hadn't wanted to talk or see anyone after the Mason incident. It was great to know that her life was ultimately turning into a series of horrible incidents.
There was an awkward silence as they sipped their coffees and reflected about the past year. Harvey looked the same, from the high and tight haircut, to the banged up laptop he'd gotten used at a pawn shop. School had always been a struggle for him but Harvey was the type to never complain. He just figured that in the scheme of life, he'd been dealt a hard hand and the only thing to do was buck up and work a little harder than everyone else. 
"How's your mom?" Luna asked, remembering the firm hugs the older woman would give her when she walked into the small apartment. She always smelled like cinnamon bread from the bakery they owned downstairs. 
"She's doing okay now. She was sick for a little while, but my Aunt Maria moved in a few floors down so she could help out and actually give me some sort of life," he said with a grin. That was something she'd always loved about him. He always had a great attitude.  "My mom asks about you. You should stop by the store sometime."
"I should," Luna said, wondering how the reception would be. Would his Mom embrace her or scold her for not showing up earlier? "There's a shortage of fresh baked bread in this city. Are you still living with her?"
Harvey seemed embarrassed. Luna hadn't remembered just how sweet he was. "Yeah. She's needed more and more help running the store and she's been getting sick a lot too. It's the best I can do between having to run the store, going to school, and still be there if she needs anything, you know? Thank God the store is doing so good. I guess it's like you said. It's hard to get fresh baked bread in this city."
"That's great." Luna wondered if she would give up her life for her own mother. She'd like to say she would. 
As they sipped their coffee, Luna's mind wandered back to Damon and her eyes went instinctively to the door although she knew the slim chances that Damon would just waltz through. 
"Are you waiting for someone?" Harvey asked, as if he suddenly felt self-conscious. 
"No, no," she said quickly, feeling bad that she'd let herself slip. She sure wasn't going to tell an old friend the strange story. He'd think she was on something
"Are you okay?" He asked, looking slightly worried. "You look a little nervous."
"No, I'm fine," she said, doing her best to look normal. The conscious thought of that hurt because two days before, she'd been normal. 
 "So, what are you up to today?" He asked.
 "Not any plans yet. I was just about to go take a walk." She wanted to smack herself on the forehead for saying it because the last thing she needed was for Harvey to tag along. What if she did happen to see Damon on the street? What would happen then?
"I'm headed to this exhibit at the art museum downtown," He said. "They're featuring some gothic horror art collection. It's supposed to be really dark stuff. I'm meeting some people up there. You're more than welcome to tag along." The last part of his invitation trailed off because she was already shaking her head.
Luna shook her head. "I think I'm in the mood for something lighter." The last thing she needed was more nightmares. "You should stop by sometime, though. I'm off the next couple of nights." She didn't know why she was saying it because she had no desire to have visitors. It was like she was just stuck in nice mode for her entire life and she couldn't turn it off, not even when it mattered. "Do you still remember where I live?"
"Yeah. 2D, right?" He seemed eager enough to keep catching up on old times.
Luna nodded and gave him a genuine smile because it was nice to be distracted for a while.  "Yeah, just stop by next time you're in the area and we can catch up some more."
 Did it sound like she was flirting? Harvey wrote down his cell phone number for her. She knew she must seem on edge but she took the pen when he was done and wrote her new phone number down on the napkin for him. 

Damon waited.

Was Damon crazy? Luna wasn't sure. She thought briefly that maybe she was the one who was crazy. But, even if she were, it didn't add up. None of it made any sense, and until she was able to find him, it never would.
Luna wandered in and out of bookstores and gift shops on the trendy block but didn't really even see anything that interested her. It was like she was just walking just to walk, walking to forget. In one particular shop, the kind with fake artifacts from countries that she'd probably never visit, she caught her reflection in a mirror shaped like a half moon and she paused. Was that really her face? It was no wonder Harvey had asked if she was okay. Her face looked pale, just as pale as Damon had seemed, and her mind flashed back to when she saw him standing above her bed again, God when would she stop trying to find something different in that memory? She shivered and felt unbalanced, like she was going to faint and she didn't know why she felt so convinced of the feeling since she'd never felt fainted before in her life. She headed home because now she felt like a monster, or some kind of crazy person.
As soon as she closed the door behind her Luna heard Adrienne's voice slightly higher than unusual, which usually happens when she's upset. She put her jacket in the closet and couldn't help but eavesdrop since Adrienne had her door wide open.
"Why do I care?" Luna thought she was maybe talking to an ex-boyfriend, and it sounded juicy enough.  "Because that was a dangerous place and I don't want you to go back there. You guys were lucky that you left when you did. Just trust me. Maggie, we've been friends for years." Luna knew Maggie, she was one of Adrienne's modeling friends. "You've been acting so weird lately. Are you even listening to me? Fine, you know what? Just do whatever you want." Adrienne slammed the phone down on the receiver so hard that Luna jumped from where she'd paused outside of her door. She quickly walked to her room and sat down on her desk, turning on her computer as if she had no idea what'd just happened.  Instead of coming over to talk about things like she usually did, since they were fifteen and either one of them had a problem, but Adrienne closed her door. 
Putting her head in her hands, Luna took a deep breath and knew that she was powerless to do anything except wait to see if either Damon would show up, or if the memory would just become one of those unbelievable events that she'd look back on in her life and question whether or not it was all just a dream. She was resigned to her fate. She would wait.

Starving. Art Appreciation. The White Room (II).

Luna woke up hungry.
She opened her eyes and waited, hearing Adrienne hovering outside the door. She'd paced back and forth a few times and hesitated with her hand on the doorknob before she actually opened it. She seemed unsure about waking her. Luna rolled over once the door opened. Adrienne looked angry and miserable, the same look she'd had on her face ever since the night of The Incident. She'd begun leaving the room if Luna even mentioned it. "There's someone here for you."
Luna sat up. She didn't really know anybody other than Adrienne, which was quite sad in her opinion. "Who?"
Adrienne shrugged. "I've seen him before but I don't know his name."
Luna got up followed her into the living room, straightening her clothes that she'd fallen asleep in. She hadn't slept again the night before. She'd spent a sleepless night staring at the TV, watching infomercials and unedited movies on cable. She didn't remember any of it. At seven o'clock she'd taken a shower, gotten dressed, and promptly fell asleep. She was becoming nocturnal. 
Harvey waited for her the threshold of the apartment looking awkward and shy.  He smiled when she entered the room.
"Hey," she said, trying to put on a happy face. She tried to tell herself that Harvey was her sunshine through the clouds. She should be thankful to still have a friend after how she'd treated everyone in her life. "Sit down," she said, sitting on the couch. "What are you up to?"
He shrugged and sat next to her. "I was just passing by. Remember when we ran into each other at the coffee shop the other day?" 
Yesterday, Luna corrected in her head.
Harvey seemed embarrassed. "Well, it ended up being a really cool exhibit and I was sad you'd missed it, so anyway, I picked up something for you in the gift shop." He shrugged again and looked away. "I just thought maybe something from the museum would make you think about going back to school. Cause you were really good, Luna. There was a lot of merit to your work. I think you sell yourself short sometimes."
Luna felt her face start to blush. Nice to have someone who thought she had talent, everyone else thought art school was just a waste of time. What had she even done with all the projects she'd worked on? Probably half at school, half in the closet somewhere. "Thanks Harvey. That makes me feel better." She asked, glad that she'd given him the open invitation. "So you enjoyed the exhibit?"
He nodded. "It was interesting. Well, interesting in a fucked up way, I guess. Did I tell you it was art of the macabre? It was an experience. I mean, just blood and guts everywhere. I'm asking myself, is this the voice of my generation? You know, cause this is the museum of art, you know, this is the big time and what are we creating? Canvas splattered with the artist's own blood. Why are we so compelled to commend these people? It just makes you wonder who we're living next to these days, you know? We pass these people on the street. I bet most of them normal. No one would ever think they had such horrible images inside." He pointed to his head.
Luna wondered if painting would help with the nightmares.  She suddenly felt like it was freezing in the apartment. "What else did they have?" She asked as she tried to focus on the conversation.
"It's kind of hard to explain." Harvey slid off his shoulder bag and started looking through it. "I brought you some prints so you could get an impression. Some of them were a bit like looking into a nightmare, to be honest with you. They had this one pencil sketch of a woman biting into a baby's head like it was an apple." Luna cringed. "I know," he said, laughing at the look on her face. "Not a lot of things get to me, but my skin was crawling at times. You know, I can't say that it's a bad thing because the work did what it was intended to do. It was created to get to you. A couple of the girls had to leave because they were feeling sick. I think what really got to me were the overly bloody ones, like people drinking each other's blood."
Luna's heart skipped a beat. Too vivid. "Like vampires or something?"
Harvey scoffed at her, and he shook his head as he looked away. "No," he said, "These were contemporary. You think of vampires, you think of eighteenth century type stuff. These were more like satanic, voodoo type. I mean, they weren't ritualistic or anything but those kinds of people aren't supernatural figures, they're just sick, you know? And it's irresponsible sometimes because people see that and think it's just a game." Luna averted his eyes. She didn't know why but Harvey seemed heated about the topic. After a pause and a breath, his voice went back to normal. "It was an experience. Some of them were beautiful in a creepy sort of way. The way an artist can capture the serenity in a corpse. I wish you'd come. There was incredible workmanship, no matter how disturbing the subject. It just kind of makes me question my faith in humanity, you know? It's the whole 'love thy neighbor' thing. How do I know my neighbor isn't fantasizing about taking a bite out of my neck every time he says 'Good Morning,' you know?"
Luna felt sick to her stomach. "I guess what makes us human is that we can control our urges. We're not animals."
"That's something to believe in. Other people's will power." Harvey gave her the package in his hand. "Here we go." 
"Thanks," she said, looking at the box. Post cards prints encompassing the most prolific works in the exhibit. "I'll feel like I was there. Which, after your impression, I'm not sure may or may not be a good thing."
"It's good," Harvey said, laughing. "It's good," he repeated. "The most important part of life is experiencing all aspects, no?" When Luna scrambled for a reply and couldn't find one, he just smiled warmly. "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She shook her head. "Good." He grabbed her hand and stood up, pulling her to her feet. "I'm taking you out. You need this, I can tell."
Luna couldn't help but smile and remember why they were such good friends. She wanted to hug him just then. "You don't have to do that."
"Come on, I need someone other than my mother to spend my money on. How lame is that?  We'll have an old friend dinner. A celebration reunion."  It was a valid reason. They used to go out all the time when Luna was in school.
"All right, Harvey. I'll let you spoil me for old time's sake." She spotted Adrienne standing in her doorway with her arms crossed, watching them somberly, but Luna ignored it and walked to the door. "Harvey, I knew there was a reason that we were such good friends."
"Gee, thanks. I knew I was only your 'buying you stuff' friend. Get your jacket. It's cold out. Come on, we're going to have fun tonight." Luna opened the door to the coat closet, pulled her jacket out, and jumped when she heard a knock at the door. She closed the coat closet and opened the front door.
Luna kept herself from gasping but her heart felt like it skipped a beat. Adrienne's friend Maggie, who looked like she'd been attacked, stood on the other side. Her clothes were wrinkled, ripped and pulled at, and her eyes were glassy, like she was high.
"Maggie?" Luna asked, and the girl's eyes swiveled from out in space and focused on her. "Are you okay? What happened to you?"
"Is Adrienne here?" Maggie asked in a hollow voice, sounding as if she hadn't heard the question. 
 "She's right here," Luna said, "Come in." She stood to the side so that Maggie could pass. The girl walked in but didn't seem to know where to go. She stood uncomfortably close to Luna and sniffed her so conspicuously that all Luna could think to do was widen her eyes. The spell was broken when Adrienne came out of her room and saw the two of them standing there as if they were about to kiss each other.
"What happened to you?" Adrienne said, asking what everyone in the room wanted to know.
Maggie noticed her for the first time. "Adrienne. I came for you." She took two steps forward and reached out a hand.
Luna noticed that the girl looked seriously underweight, not just model underweight, but sick, and wore the tank top and shorts, in winter weather, wrinkled and carelessly as if they had been an afterthought that had been found in a dumpster. Luna also noticed that her hands were twitching. 
"What happened to you?" Adrienne asked again. She looked like she was afraid to touch the girl or get any closer.
"I came for you."
"Maggie, are you okay?"
Maggie nodded. "Yes. I want you to come with me."
Luna threw a questioning look at Adrienne, but everyone's attention was on the thin female in the middle of the room. 
"Where are we going, sweetie?"  Adrienne asked, as if the girl was unbalanced and any kind of harsh words would set her off. For all Luna knew, it was true. She'd seen the girl two weeks ago, her usual snotty and nose in the air attitude. 
Maggie looked at Adrienne as if she'd forgotten something they'd just discussed. "Adrienne, it's just a harmless place." She seemed to be saying it, not as if she believed it, but because she felt like she had to. 
Adrienne was shaking her head and she was mad. "Look at you. You're a mess. What the hell happened to you?" Luna didn't blame Adrienne for being harsh. She didn't want to be anywhere Maggie had recently been to either.
Maggie laughed, and it gave Luna. The laugher of someone who probably needed to be medicated. "Adrienne, I have to go now but if you change your mind . . ." She trailed off and leaned down to put a couple of cards on the coffee table. "You know where to find me." Luna didn't know what was going on but she desperately wanted the crazy girl out of her apartment. It was as if she was sucking the normalness out of her life, and God knew that Luna wanted nothing more than to be normal.
"I don't think so," Adrienne said.
Maggie held her eyes for a moment more, not quite focused, and when she came back to reality she just shrugged as if she had figured that it was just worth a try. "Well, I guess I'll see you around then." She headed for the door.
Adrienne quickly came up behind her and turned her around with uncharacteristic violence. "What the hell did they do to you?"
This time Maggie's gaze didn't waiver. "They made me whole." She pulled away and was gone through the doorway. When Luna leaned out a moment later, not knowing why, but knowing that she needed to close the door, Maggie was gone from the hallway. She turned back to her friends, her hand on the doorknob and looked at Adrienne for an explanation. 
Harvey was the first to break the silence, though. "What is she? Some kind of addict?" He was looking back and forth between the two girls.
Adrienne didn't reply so Luna felt pressured to say something to break the silence. Harvey hadn't meant it as a joke but Adrienne may have thought he had. Adrienne just went back to her bedroom without meeting anyone's eyes, her hand over her mouth because the sobs were momentary. Maybe Luna was being selfish, but she really didn't want to know what was going on. She wanted to go out with Harvey. And she didn't want to think that Maggie's condition had anything to do with Damon. 
"Wow," Harvey said, this time lowering his voice because he seemed to suspect that he was in trouble, "Does this kind stuff normally happen around here?"
Luna shook her head and looked up at him.  "Not usually."
Harvey nodded. "Yeah. Somehow I guessed that."

Damon hadn't moved in hours. He tried to tell himself that he was conserving energy, but it was more because he couldn't think of anything worthwhile to do. He thought maybe he was going insane, but he didn't feel insane, wasn't suffering from hallucinations, and didn't hear any voices. He didn't hear anything, in fact, but he was getting used it. Only the white walls still hurt, so he closed his eyes and felt better with the knowledge that yes, he could move, but he didn't want to, it wasn't worth it. They'd have to come sometime. That's the thought he clung to. He'd just wait. It was all he could do. The worst part was that he was beginning to feel hungry.

Over a huge bowl of chicken with Alfredo sauce over bow tie pasta, Luna and Harvey exchanged stories of the year they'd lost touch on. Harvey had spent a lot of time at school and at work. Had met a girl named Jackie, who he'd briefly dated but then ended up being dumped by because he'd been too distant. After that, he'd given up on a dating scene. Luna didn't tell him about her failed relationship. Actually, she didn't tell him much of anything. She just listened. It made her feel better to know that she wasn't the only one who had problems. No, he didn't have any kind of nightmare that had turned out to be real, but his life wasn't what he'd planned it to be, either. As the conversation settled down, Luna found herself thinking about Damon again.  Obsession had settled in and wasn't letting up, but she didn't let her insanity keep her from going out. Lord, please grant serenity. And sanity.
"So what's really going on with you?" Harvey asked. When she hesitated, he continued. "I can tell something's wrong. You look so nervous. It's not me, is it?"
"No," she said. "Harvey," she began firmly because she knew it was the only way to get him to back off. He'd always come on too strong with her, wanted to know everything, how her brain worked. He was the hero, the kind of guy who always had the answers so always wanted to help. She'd always asked him for advice because he was the rational one, the mature and responsible one. But what good is the rational friend if your problem was off the scale, out of the loop and completely out of left field? "I just have some stuff going on right now that I'm not ready to talk about yet."
"So, what then? Some boyfriend or something?" Harvey asked. Luna didn't know why he was so concerned about her love life.
"Nothing," she said, trying to sound convincing and deciding the best thing to do at this point would be to lie. "You just caught me after having a few bad nights at work."
The waiter returned to the table. Luna ordered red wine. She'd never had a taste for wine but she'd seen it being poured at a neighboring table and the color enticed her. Besides, she was still starving despite the big meal. Harvey ordered a refill on Pepsi.

 
Damon hadn't moved, his head still on the desk, the corner digging into his skin. He thought about Luna. The way she smelled. Her smile. Her legs. The blood. He thought about Lilith. Her anger, her hair, her eyes, her hate. He thought of Kris.  Of slicing off his head with a rusty old machete. Of tearing out his heart. Of eating his eyes. He thought about Luna most of all. Why hadn't God let him meet her while alive?  Maybe he would've had a chance at being happy. Once he got out of that box he decided he'd find her. And do what? He didn't know. Probably end up killing her, or ruining her life. But when he hadn't eaten in what felt like days, and there was a little monster growing in his belly, and all he could imagine was splitting her skin with his teeth.

Harvey followed her inside without being invited. Luna sat on couch, making sure that he had enough room to sit next to her. More than anything, she hoped that he wouldn't try to kiss her. She already had one boy on the brain. She flipped through the channels until she found something remotely interesting and lay her hand back down at her side, uncomfortably close to his. She felt something under her arm and looked down. There were the prints that Harvey had bought her from the museum.
"Thanks for dinner," Luna said as she picked up the box. In reality, pretending to be normal had her wanting to just slit her wrists so she wouldn't have to pretend anymore. She flipped over the box and there were a few images of the postcards inside.
"No problem," he said, focusing in on Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. She hated that the tension between them was beginning to feel like a date.
"Were these local artists?" She asked and flipped the box over to the front.
"Yeah, some. Why? Is there someone you know?" He asked as he looked over at the box. 
She pointed to one of the pictures of a dark figure crouching down in an alley. It was in black and white, scratched and edgy, drawn in cartoon style. It reminded Luna of the comic book ark exhibit that they'd put together at school. "This one looks familiar," she said, tapping the box. "I thought maybe it's someone I know." It had been months since she painted.
Harvey didn't say anything, just rubbed his chin and sat up like he was ready to go. She thought that he could see the sadness in her eyes, the look that she'd tried to shake in the mirror, but it was still there, she knew, because he kept looking at her long and hard. He stood up. "I should get going before my Mom starts to worry. I had fun though, Luna. If you want to hang out again just give me a call. Keep in touch, okay?"
"Ok, thanks," She said, then stood up and walked him out. After she'd closed the door behind him she went back to the couch and picked up the cards again. Harvey really was a nice guy, there was no denying that.
She opened the pack and shuffled through them, seeing exactly what Harvey had been talking about. Overall, the underlying theme was of blood. As horrible and vivid as the images were she was still intrigued by them. Usually, she didn't have the stomach for any sort of violence in movies or media, and felt sick to her stomach when it came to seeing blood in real life. But these images were different. They mesmerized her. The level of craftsmanship was amazing. The lady eating the baby was there, there was also another of a woman holding a baby upside down ready to drown it, another of two woman ripping through a man's neck. The last card in the deck made her drop the rest of the postcards and stare. 
It was a painting of Damon, yes she knew it was crazy, another of the seemingly crazy things she'd seen, but she was sure, it was Damon crouching down behind a door in the foreground of a sleeping woman's bedroom. Luna tried to tell herself that it was only a coincidence that the man just looked like Damon, but a feeling in her stomach told her it was him, and she felt surer about it than the chances of her surviving the day. He looked exactly the same as she remembered him, the shoulder length black hair pushed out of his face, the translucent gray eyes that made her feel like she could see into his soul. The artist made him beautiful, in a style that fit the term Realism in a whole new light than when she'd first heard it in art school. She couldn't quite remember the era that the style had been prominent, but knew the use of it suggested that the artist wanted to convey truth in his almost photographic representation. Even as she remembered the horror of that night she didn't feel fear, she just wanted to know why. She flipped the card over to look for the title and artist. Vision of the Future, was the title, Artist: M. Masaitis. 
Did the artist know him? Had Damon done the same to the woman in the painting? Sneaking into her bedroom late one night, leaving her bloody and frightened half to death? Did he do it all the time? Do what? What had he been doing? It was the million dollar question. What in the hell had he been doing? That's what she needed to know.
Luna went into the kitchen and dialed Harvey's phone number. She hadn't even needed to look at the paper, she remembered it by heart. 
"Hello?"
"Hi, Harvey? It's Luna."
"Hey what's up? I know you can't miss me already."
 "I just wanted to know if you knew anymore information about an artist at the exhibit you saw. I was right about the print, I did recognize it. I, uh, think I might know the artist. Maybe through school?"
"Ok, shoot." He was out of breath, probably walking quickly through the cool night air, trying to get home before the expected snow fall.
Luna tried to sound casual, but she knew that her voice was probably shaking. "Well, the painting is called "Visions of the Future," it's by this artist named M. Masaitis. Have you ever heard of it?"
Michael was silent a moment. "No, you wouldn't know him personally. It was probably part of their permanent collection that they moved in for the gothic theme. You know how they rotate the paintings so they can mix it up? Michael Masaitis is a painter from the early part of the twentieth century. He did a whole 'Visions of the Future' series, but none of the paintings were numbered or individually named. It probably seems familiar from one of your art history classes. I know they talked about him in mine. He was important in the resurgence of Realism close to the second half of the twentieth century."
 "So if it's part of the permanent collection it's nothing I could possibly buy right?" Not that she had the cash to lay down, but if there was a private owner, it was at least a starting point, a trail she could follow to the artist himself.
"Yeah, that stuff they won't part with for anything. If it was a normal part of the traveling exhibit you might have been able to, unless a private collector owns the painting. In that case you may be able to negotiate a price, but it won't be cheap."
"Are you sure about that time period though?" She was still thinking he was mistaken. The artist had to be still alive to have painted Damon so accurately. "Is it possible that maybe you're thinking later?"
"I'm pretty sure about it, Luna. There was a big chapter on him in my Modern Art class last semester. His stuff's pretty rare because a lot of it was destroyed when someone broke in and murdered the artist. Some robbery or something."
"It looks contemporary. Maybe you're mixing him up with someone else."
 Harvey's breath was drawn out. He didn't like being second guessed. "No, it was Masaitis, because I remember there was a big controversy over his body, so that must mean that he's dead. I don't remember why the big deal though. It was misplaced or something."
"Then how do they know that he really died in the robbery?" Luna had wrapped her little finger in the cord and was now struggling to pull it out.
Harvey laughed like she was being ridiculous. "I mean, I wasn't on the investigating team or anything, but I'm pretty sure there weren't any paintings that he signed his name on after that time if they attribute his death to the robbery despite lack of corpse." Is it possible that the artist just happened to paint someone who looked exactly like Damon? That's some big coincidence. She flipped it over to see if she missed any information. 
"Are you still there?" He asked. 
Luna opened her mouth then hesitated, trying to think about how she wanted to word it. "That name, Visions of the Future, what did that mean? Did this guy really think that he could see the future?"
There was only silence on the other end of the phone and Luna was about to ask if he was still there when he replied. "I don't know, Luna. I guess that's a question for the artist, isn't it? I mean, he may have thought that he was seeing something but may not have lived long enough to see if it was true."
"You're right," Luna said, and she shivered. She was suddenly aware of how alone she was in the apartment. Adrienne had disappeared somewhere while they were gone. "It would be a question for the artist." Luna could hear that he'd flipped on the TV. He didn't live as far as she'd remembered.
"Hey, the painting that you're talking about, is that the one with the hot blonde slitting the guy's throat?"
"No," Luna said, glad that she hadn't gone, and having no desire to have a look at the prints. "This one isn't bloody, just creepy. It shows this guy sneaking into a girl's bedroom." She kept looking at Damon's eyes in the picture. The pupils were almost white.
"No way to know about that one, then."
"Well, thanks for your help." Suddenly, a thought popped into her head. "Hey, if I wanted to do some more research on this guy, what could I do? I mean, other than the Internet. I'm not good with searching and most of it's just not accurate anyway."

Damon had enough. His head snapped up and he pushed the desk away so hard that it slammed into the wall and fell over, the drawer falling out. He got to his feet. Was that a snarl? He was becoming an animal. Damon was losing it, in this room, waiting for his meal to come to him. But Kris was too afraid, wasn't he? Damon wondered why he'd been saving his strength.
He went over to the bed and tore the sheets off, pushed the mattress onto the floor. He lifted the bed frame and threw it against the wall, leaving a dent in the frame, cracking the wall behind it. He was at this crack before the frame had settled onto the carpet. He could feel the slightest bit of air coming through but it still hurt his eyes too much to focus on it. He was amazed at the purity of it all. He picked up the frame, backed up, and threw it again, harder. 
After a loud bang, the hole was bigger but he still couldn't see through it. Damon looked around for something heavier and picked up the remainder of the desk. He threw it and with a loud crack, the wall and the desk both fell apart. He took a moment to pause and see if he sensed anything alive in there that could possibly be food, but there was no movement, breathing or otherwise. All he could see from where he stood was an identical white wall. He moved towards the whole and as he looked inside, he was held speechless. This growl that left his lips was louder then the one in his stomach.
He laid his hand on the hole he'd created, rubbing the layers of insulation with his thumb as he stepped through. He felt weak, defeated. This room was exactly the same as his. He just stood there, looked around. Was this a trick or had he reached the point of insanity? The world seemed to go grey for a moment, but he forced himself back. He wouldn't let Kris win. Damon just went into his old prison and sat down in the chair. He put his head in his hands. He'd wait.
With his lightning quick speed he was through the wall and as his new fear of starvation, more real this time, ripped through his belly, he kicked the all too familiar desk into a hundred pieces that rained a layer of wood onto everything in the room, including himself.

M. Masaitis. An Offering.
And Introducing The Artist . . . . . . . . . As Himself.

Luna knocked on door 315. DR. PARRISH.  "Come in," Came an older man's voice from inside the office. Luna opened the door. Dr. Parrish was a kind looking gray haired man who looked like he could use a few dozen hairs for the top of his head. 
"Hello Dr. Parrish. One of your students, Harvey Walker, referred me to you."
He was dressed professionally and when she shook his hand, she found it hot, moist and meaty, a sensation she didn't mind much because it reminded her of her own father, who she hadn't had much time with before God had taken him.
 "Oh yes," He said smiling. "Have a seat. Mr. Walker told me you had some interest in the work of Michael Masaitis." 
 "Thank you so much for taking time to talk with me," Luna said, trying to control the anxiety that was eating her from inside. She was ashamed at her desperation was convinced that it was transparent on her face. "I've been trying to do some research, but there isn't much information on him."
Dr. Parrish nodded. "Yes, it is often difficult to find information on more obscure artists. His work was too dark for mainstream audiences at the time. The primary body of his work originated in the early 20th century in America, although Masaitis, himself, was French and immigrated to the United States at a young age.  He is important because his few years in France seemed to have influenced his style and he avoided the themes of what is considered Modern Art, painting in a Realist style that was predominant in France at the time. His work, although gruesome, is believed to be painted from actual scenes, whether staged or not. Now this is assumed because of his almost photographic representation of the subject, which as history has told us, is nearly impossible without a live subject." Luna knew it was true, as she'd had a hard enough time drawing fruit in a realistic way. Her style had always been more abstract and surreal, relishing in the feeling of satisfaction she felt at having the feeling of paint on her hands, the organic and spiritual shaping of the paint meeting canvas. Suddenly, she wished she was painting.  "It was the unusual circumstances around his death that increased his popularity. May I ask what it was about his work that perked your interest?"
Luna hesitated and when she couldn't fabricate a response, she went with the truth. "To be honest with you, Dr. Parrish, the man in one of the paintings looks like someone I know." She handed him the postcard print from the set Michael had given her. It felt awkward to be bringing someone else in on her nightmare, but he didn't have to know, she wouldn't tell if she didn't have to. It was hard to part with the one object she hadn't stopped touching for over twenty four hours. "And not just similar, Dr. Parrish. Identical." 
He considered this and she was relieved that he didn't just laugh her out of his office. "I assume that since you're here, that you've already discounted the fact that it may just be a coincidence." Luna nodded. He was silent for a moment, as he looked over the card, back and front.  "This particular print could've been mislabeled."
 "I don't think so, Dr. Parrish. That's from the museum downtown, on Ashley Street." 
He leaned back and placed one finger on his chin. "The museum rarely makes mistakes like that." 
Luna nodded. "I know that there is some controversy, but isn't it possible that Masaitis may still be alive?"
Dr. Parrish kind of winced. "The controversy was over the way he died, not really over whether he was dead or not. His house was burnt to the ground but they never found his body. His family never doubted his death, but there was evidence of arson. Also, there were some artwork found after the incident under strange circumstances, but there was nothing signed under his name after the fire. That's all collectors really have to go on sometimes."
Luna wondered what the professor thought of her. Was he just appeasing her? "What were the strange circumstances?"
Dr. Parrish shrugged, but he seemed to be enjoying the questions. "There were much more paintings in the house than were thought to have ever existed. He had a huge storeroom under his home. The majority of them were destroyed after the fire. Also, more and more seemed to pop up looking like a Masaitis, but unsigned. Those were found to be the early work of a now contemporary painter named Garcia Copeland. There have been a couple of obscure artists that copied his style very closely but none were successful. Garcia Copeland, who's bringing back that dark style, has finally been given some notoriety. His style is so perfect, in fact, that it's sparked interest in Masaitis again. It's possible that the museum could've made a mistake, but it's highly unlikely."
Luna wasn't convinced. There were too many pieces of this puzzle, and none of them seemed to fit. But how could she solve the mystery of an event that had taken place before even her mother was born. "What if I wanted to look into this further? Where do you think I can find more information on Copeland? Just in case there's been a mistake. So we could get it corrected," she added.
"Why don't you ask your friend?" Dr. Parrish said. Luna raised her eyebrows, not sure who he meant. He glanced at the print and then handed it back to her over the desk. "The one in the picture."
Luna felt her face get red. "That's not really an option."
Dr. Parrish laughed at that, and Luna felt relieved. "Here I thought you were following the path from your friend to the artist, when really you're following the path from the artist to your friend."
Smart man. Luna wasn't sure that she liked the look on his face. "It's an old friend I've lost touch with. The question is, if I know him then how could have Masaitis?"
He raised his bushy white eyebrows. She couldn't tell whether he was taking her seriously. "So you think it's a possible the museum made an error? That this is really someone you know?"
Luna shrugged. "What other options are there? That Masaitis is still alive?"
Dr. Parrish smiled. "Well on the slim chance that he is, he'd be in his hundreds, and not able to paint much now. I don't know, is it possible that a struggling artist would fake his own death and disappear into obscurity only to reappear eighty years later under a different name?"
It didn't seem likely but crazier things had happened, Luna had learned that. He didn't attempt to answer his own question, so neither did Luna. "Well, thanks for everything Dr. Parrish."
He stood up to walk her out. "You should expect to find information on Copeland on the Internet. Good luck with your search young lady. If you find anything notable, please, let me know." Luna smiled back at him standing in the doorway. "Sorry to say that in this case, I suspect it to be coincidence."
Luna paused in mid step and shrugged. "I sort of hope so, Doctor."

 
Damon had settled down and resigned to his fate of going mad with hunger. It had been hours since he'd thought of anything other than the taste of food. He was feeling weak and although he tried to remain awake, he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. He fought against it, knowing he'd feel humiliated if he fell out of his chair. He wouldn't die, necessarily. He was more likely to go into a coma. Then what? Were they waiting until then to kill him?
Damon had to grit his teeth snap out of it and stand up. He began pacing in an attempt to suppress his hunger. He kept on for what seemed like days. 
What could he think about that hadn't been exhausted yet? He knew what, the same thing he'd been pushing to the back of his mind. The things he wanted to remember, but hadn't let himself. Human things. The smell of his mother's soap. Her favorite red shoes. The pink flowered hideous couch that she'd paid way too much for. 
 It was a slight movement from the elevator that finally stopped him. He walked over, trying to hurry, but not quite being able to even break into a jog. He now realized why it was that Lilith and Kris were both so much stronger and faster. It was true when they say that you are what you eat. The better stuff runs the body longer. He pressed his ear against the door and could hear the heartbeat through the skin, clothes, and doors that held him back.
Damon was clawing at the doors by the time they began to open. He was shocked and disoriented at first when he didn't see anything. The hunger that controlled him had also made him blind. It wasn't until he steadied himself against the doorway that he realized that there was a young female human lying unconscious on the floor.
Damon paused because the offering confused him. Before his brain could begin to access the options, his animal instincts took over and he pounced. He should've known better than to think he'd be able to restrain himself with any kind of food in front of him. He bit her neck and drank so deeply that he almost choked with so much blood in his mouth. It didn't take him long to stop her breathing. When he'd drained every drop of blood in her body, he felt like he was so full that he could be sick. He settled down on the floor next to her. She was dried out, her skin pale, dry and cracked. She looked like she'd been dead and buried, then dug up. There were no buttons to press to close the doors or pick a floor but there and no way that Damon was going to get out of the elevator. He was tense while he waited for the doors to close. They finally did after a long while, and Damon felt the elevator begin to descend. It figured that Lilith and Kris would take their time. He shouldn't have expected anything less.  
When the doors finally opened, Damon didn't move because he saw another white room and, although he heard voices, it didn't register that there were other people in the room until his eyes adjusted and there was Kris sitting in a metal chair, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit, with a huge grin on his face. Damon wanted nothing more than to destroy him, tear him limb from limb, so that he could never make that cocky grin again, but the bodyguards on either side of Kris told Damon it wasn't wise. 
"So," Kris began, leaning back with an elbow propped on the chair, "Exactly how long have you been working for Lucas?" Damon bit his tongue because he wasn't sure it was worth it to lie. "I take it by your silence that you're not going to deny it." Kris paused as he took a moment to get more comfortable in the chair. Damon took a few steps into the room and the elevator closed behind him and left. Half of him regretted even leaving his prison. Maybe starving to death would have been better than the punishment they had in mind. Damon didn't move any closer to Kris. "You understand, of course, how surprised we are about your betrayal, Damon. Especially Lilith. She's beside herself with grief over the revelation." 
What, had the asshole seen this in some movie? Goddamn ham. Grief wasn't the case with Lilith. The word was anger. Better yet, rage. That's what she was feeling, and Damon didn't blame her. He felt enough of it in himself. 
"Well, where is she then?" Damon asked, trying to sound casual. He knew if any kind of mercy would be given, it would be from her. Kris had wanted him knocked down a peg since the day they'd met. "If she's so broken up about this?" 
 Kris snickered. "Her feelings of sadness may have been overshadowed by how quickly you tried to take up with my friend earlier." Damon winced in spite of himself. He knew Kris saw it, but it was a reflex because he knew exactly how stupid he'd been. Lilith was too angry to save him. He was on his own with her crazy male pet. "Yeah, that's right. You pissed Lilith off, and it's up to me to deal your punishment." 
 "So, what now?" Damon asked, not missing a beat, and trying to sound sarcastic when really, he was shaking inside. "What'll it be?" He'd thought anything would be better than the white room.
 Kris shrugged. "I haven't decided yet whether you live or die." A shiver went down Damon's spine, not sure how serious Kris was, or could be. "Do you feel like a hypocrite now? You pretend to preach about not using humans like cattle and yet you just pounced on that young girl, didn't you? You killed her."
 "What did you prove? That when I'm hungry, I'll eat?" 
 Kris snickered again. Damon wanted to crush his face with his boot. "Why don't you sit with me, Damon? Let's talk. Let's see if you can convince me to let you live." 
Damon wanted to be defiant but also wanted to sit down because his fear was making the room spin. He moved towards the chair, which was stainless steel with a white padded cushion. He wondered if they got some kind of special deal on stainless steel office furniture. "So where's Lilith?" He asked again, trying to sound conversational.
"She's around," Kris said, and whether or not he was aware of it, Damon caught his eyes flick to the left and he followed them. There was a video camera hanging in the corner, high up on the wall. He thought it was odd that Kris would tell him intentionally. Maybe he wanted to illustrate how cruel Lilith could really be. She'd sit back and let Kris kill him and Damon would know that she was watching the entire time. 
"What now?" Damon got more comfortable in his seat, eyes still on the camera. 
 "Talk with me. Tell me why you did this." Kris didn't seem like the talking type and Damon knew there was no answer that would satisfy him. Damon just shook his head. "How did you meet Lucas? What did he give you in exchange for your soul?"
Exaggerating bastard. The best tactic was denial. He had to drag the encounter out. "I just listened. I never told him anything."
"So, what? You were just wasting their time?" Kris's hands were folded on his lap and all Damon wanted to do was tear off his face. That was just to start.
"You'd have to ask them that," Damon said, keeping his tone level. "I don't know why they wanted me there. Maybe it made them feel better to think I was on their side." He could feel Kris's glare and knew his lies were obvious. "But I wasn't. I wanted to find out something to tell Lilith, I wanted to impress her. I wanted her respect," Damon said, right into the camera. She had to be watching. "But they guarded their conversations around me. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want her to think I was a failure." Kris just rolled his eyes. Damon realized it was useless and shut his mouth.
"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" Kris raised his voice. "How long do you want to stay here?" He stood up and the chair fell silently onto the white carpet. His eyes glowed and he leaned across the table. "Are you here to waste my time too?" He was yelling now and Damon sat back in his chair, not knowing how he'd protect his throat if Kris decided to jump across the table. "Because, let me tell you, if you had the intention of wasting my time, I suggest you change your plan. I've had enough of you. You are not my problem." Before Kris could do or say anything else, there was a siren that made all of them in the room cover their ears. 
The noise didn't stop until the elevator doors opened and Lilith stepped out, looking as perfect as ever. His mind cleared and all he saw was his savior. The siren fell away as soon as she took a step into the room but the silence that followed was just as shocking. They both watched her walk in and Damon knew how important her presence was to his fate.
Kris picked up his chair and sat back down on it, as if nothing had happened. For a moment everyone in the room was still while Damon built up the courage to open his mouth. "I wasn't lying."
"Get him out of here," Lilith said, turning her face to the guards who had stood motionless the entire time, not even moving to shield their ears.
Damon felt cold hands like steel on his arms dragging him past Lilith into the elevator. "Please don't do this to me Lilith. I wouldn't lie to you." 
Lilith didn't even give him the pleasure of turning her head. She sat in front of Kris on his empty chair and crossed her legs. The doors of the elevator closed and she was gone. 
When Damon was thrown back into his room, he found it perfectly made. The bed was put back together, the desk placed back into its original perforations in the carpet. He lay down on the bed, but when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, he moved his head and saw a shiny glass piece in the top corner of the room. He stood up and looked closer. It was a camera, but it was embedded in the wall and didn't have any part that he could rip down and destroy. There was some plywood board covering the hole he'd made, disgusting in the perfect match of color. It didn't matter. Escape was just a waste of time. Damon presented his middle finger to the camera. Then he sat down on the bed with his back to the fucking thing, and resigned once again to his waiting.

Luna scrolled through the webpage, reading again the same information. The laptop had been a great investment, whether or not she'd stuck with school. She'd taken extra out from her student loans to pay for it, and was continuing the payments despite not continuing the education. It made her mad sometimes, but at least she still had her laptop so she didn't have to go down to the library and sit next to the homeless people killing their day until they were moved out onto the street for the night. 
It turned out that Garcia Copeland was a recluse, and it was all the same no matter what resources she checked, he was unreachable. He hadn't been seen in years, the paintings seeming to come through his manager, making no public appearances, not even attending most of his openings. Actually, she'd found no evidence that anyone other than his manager had ever seen the painter. There were no interviews or pictures of the artist on the websites found. There were even articles written about his obscurity. Luna guessed it was partially why the artist was popular. Not even his fans seemed to know anything about him, although some fan sights assumed that his manager, Marshall Brummell, was painting under the assumed name. Luna wrote down MARSHALL BRUMMELL and the address of the Tina Webb Gallery. It wasn't far from her apartment but it was too late to head out there, it was long past dinner hours and Mr. Brummell was probably going to bed. She was working the early shift the next day though, and she'd be able to just make it there before they closed. 

Damon slept off his anger but didn't know why he even bothered to open his eyes the next night. His stomach still felt comfortable but he knew all that he had to look forward to was hunger. Only this time, they wanted to document his progress. He wondered if Lilith was watching him at that moment, lying there fighting consciousness. Maybe that's the one thing that she got off on. Damon decided it was finally time he got off. Fuck Lilith's perversions. Maybe he'd create one of his own. He had nothing better to do, and maybe it would be enough to finally get a rise out of her. Turn her fucking head.  It wasn't hard for him to get it up. He just thought of what it would be like to have Luna alone in this room for a few hours. He felt like he was jacking off in the middle of a crowded stadium, he could just imagine the group of people standing around the monitor in the control, and Lilith getting angrier as he got closer. Exhibitionism had never been his thing, and he was more than just a little uncomfortable, but he was going to make a point if it even if he'd be suffering the consequences later. He had all day because he didn't think he'd be able to finish in that room, ever.
It didn't take long for the elevator doors to open and for Lilith to step out, but her face showed no signs of amusement. It was a great idea, he should have thought about it sooner. Although he had every intention of keeping it attached to his body, he didn't stop or put it away when she came in, as Lilith would've wanted. 
"You're vile, do you know that?" She said, hands behind her back, halfway into the room. 
"Come here," he said, doing his best to shoot her his bedroom eyes.
Lilith froze. "Fuck you, you slime. You piece of shit."
He ignored it, just stroked faster, harder. He was terrified. "Talk dirty to me." He looked her up and down. "Why don't you pull up that skirt and climb on top of me?" Oh God, he thought he might have been starting to sweat.
Lilith looked like she was afraid to come any closer. "You know that Kris is probably watching you right now?" His rhythm wavered a bit and his eyes flickered to the camera. Shit, he just lost, his confidence was gone and she'd dive right in. Lilith was an expert on weaknesses. "You've heard about him haven't you?" She took a few steps closer to the bed and lowered her voice. "I think he swings both ways, if you know what I mean." Lilith raised her eyebrows quickly in succession. Insert innuendo. 
 There was nothing that Damon could do to get the idea of Kris's face glued to the security monitor somewhere. He took his defeat gracefully and put his limp member away. He reasoned that at least he'd gotten her into the room, and there was still hope at winning the war. "Let me out of here."
She put her hands on her hips, looking down at him. "Give me one good reason."
Damon didn't know what to say to that. He'd broken any trust she'd ever had in him, what reason had she to let him live? "Because I'm innocent, Lilith. I wouldn't lie to you. Look at me. I'm terrified of you. My hands are shaking."
 "I could rip your arms off, do you realize that?" Her voice was calm and their eyes met. "I suggest you start playing along, Damon. I won't hurt you, you can leave this building alive, but don't you go and do this cutesy crap thinking I'm going to feel sorry for you because, Damon, in the whole scheme of things, you don't mean shit to me. I couldn't care less what happened to you. You're a spot of dirt on the carpet."
She wasn't joking. "I was just trying to pass the time," Damon said.
"Pass the time planning your confession." She headed for the elevator.
Damon felt empty inside and it was all orchestrated by Lilith, her slow game killing him simply by not coming closer. He put his hands behind his head and watched her as she walked. "So when's Kris coming up?" He asked. She looked back at him from the elevator. He shrugged and smiled. "Hey, why not? It's not like I'm getting any love from you." He half expected Lilith to charge at him, and that would've been something, at least something, but she let the doors close with confidence of someone who knew what Damon was afraid of most.

The glass door said, The Tina Webb Gallery. Door chimes noted her arrival in the backroom somewhere when she walked in. It was amazing how silent the gallery was, and for a moment it seemed impossible that the place was even open. The sounds of the street stopped with the suction sound of the door. It smelled sterile, like bleach. It was the first thing she smelled but she got a chill when she looked at the walls and the first thing she thought was the bleach must've been necessary to clean the blood from the walls and the floor. The walls were brilliant white and the paintings hanging were such striking red splotches that she wouldn't have been surprised to see blood dripping from the ceiling. Garcia Copeland fulfilled his promise from the print she'd had. The artwork on the walls all had a violent theme in common. The place was upscale despite all the blood on the canvases. Luna guessed that the new trend was blood and gore chic. 
An Asian woman in her mid twenties walked out from behind a thick crystal beaded curtain. She was dressed neatly in a blue business suit and thick black heels. She had intern written all over her face. "Can I help you?" She asked. 
Luna noticed bags under her eyes. "I'm looking for Marshall Brummell."
The woman rolled her eyes. "You and half of the city," she turned and walked to a neat desk in the corner of the room. "I'm working his accounts right now. What can I do for you?"
Luna considered that it may work out to her benefit. "Well, I was trying to get in touch with Garcia Copeland. We went to art school together and we lost touch a few years ago. I've heard that he's doing well. I was wondering if you guys had any way that I could contact him."
She looked at Luna skeptically but she seemed nervous at the same time. "Well, I'm not too familiar with that account. To be honest with you, Marshall disappeared a few days ago. I'm trying to run this place by myself and I'm kind of lost. Give me a minute and I'll see if I can find anything." She paused. "You're not the media or anything are you?" She looked as if she knew she'd just asked a stupid question. "I just know that Copeland is a very private man. I personally think he'd be more successful if he just resigned to play the game." She looked Luna up and down from her scuffed leather shoes to sloppy ponytail, and shrugged. Luna thought the woman may have picked up on the smell of French fries. Damn college grads, Luna could've had an easy job like that if she'd only been able to comprehend college algebra. "Oh, you look harmless. Besides, even if you were media it would only help the poor bum." She disappeared through the beaded curtains still talking. Luna was glad for her good fortune. Most gallery inhibitors were snobs. 
Luna tried to not look away from the swaying beads because she was afraid of what she would see. No paintings featuring Damon were in the main showroom, and she didn't want to know if there were anymore like that in the back. She didn't think she'd be able to handle seeing it in real life. The woman came back a few moments later and handed Luna a business card. "It doesn't have his phone number on it, but it has the address of his studio. You could probably swing by there and catch him before he goes home for the day. They usually work pretty long days, and who knows? Maybe Marshall is back in town."
Luna's stomach dropped at the thought of actually being able to meet the artist, but when the woman gave her the card she suddenly felt overjoyed that she was so close to Damon. Dear Lord, please keep her safe today. She didn't know what she'd do if she finally met him, but that part she'd figure out later. She actually got something productive done and it was exciting. The gallery was on 15th and Copeland's studio was on the corner of 23rd and Wade. After thanking the woman, Luna headed in that direction without giving it much thought, despite the darkening sky. 
It was a quick walk to the gritty black building. It was old and looked like it would collapse onto the sidewalk.  What looked like three homeless people were leaning against a storefront a few buildings down and she could smell them and hear the bottles clinking against the concrete. Luna held her purse tight against her chest. She hesitated when she got to suite 2B, but by the light under the door, there appeared to be someone inside. She pulled her cell phone out in case she needed it in the strange man's studio. She really should've had it out the whole time but she'd been completely out of her head, she'd been thinking too much again.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure stand up. The figure had been crouching among the homeless and then stood at full height, which was by far much taller than Luna. For a moment, the streetlight hit his eyes at an old angle and they seemed to glow green, like an animal's. She quickly lost her fear of the artist. No one answered her initial knocks, but the door swung open an inch by just the force of them. Without hesitating, Luna pushed the door open and slammed it closed behind her. She turned the deadbolt but then hoped that she wouldn't regret it.
Breathing hard, her heart racing, she leaned against the door, expecting like in some horror movie, that the doorknob would rattle and someone would try to come in after her. The studio was empty as far as she could tell, although there were two doors along the back wall, one of which was open a crack with no light on inside. 
There were canvases of half completed projects, in all of which red was the dominating color. She was half surprised that there wasn't a five gallon bucket of red paint nearby. Once she was convinced that no one was trying to follow her, she took a few steps into the room. She could make out faces in his pictures, but the ones in his studio were still completely different from the print she had. A chill ran down her spine, although she was to the point where she was used to it by then. These were in the genre of the exhibit post cards that Harvey had brought her. It was the room of a sick man.
On an easel was the most current project, the painting of a young girl whose eyes were full of terror, her face was splattered with blood. As she looked closer, she saw familiar brown eyes, the hair brown despite the splotches that looked black but were just stained with blood. Her eyes narrowed and a sudden realization hit her. The paint still looked wet in some places, but the fear in the woman's eyes was unmistakable. It was like looking in a mirror. She tried to rationalize it, tried to tell herself that it was a mistake, this was just another girl with brown hair and eyes, but something in her stomach told her that something was very wrong, and she needed to leave as soon as possible. She'd just forget all of it and move on, as long as she didn't meet the artist of that portrait. She needed to get out.
Luna turned towards the door and caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye. She whipped her head to the left, and saw nothing. Froze. Heard nothing. Was it possible to die of fright? She took a deep breath and looked around. No one in the room. Maybe a mouse or something. She wanted to call someone to pick her up, but she knew there was no one to call, and no way she'd wait anywhere nearby. She took a few more steps and it happened again, except the movement past her peripheral was to the right. Was it man size? Why didn't she see anyone? Was he behind the stack of cabinets, or the wire rack? Jesus, who was this guy? No one could move that fast. There was evil in the room, she should've known better, she should've seen a priest, brought a rosary, holy water, any other religious artifact that she had no idea where its location was in her room. She backed up the rest of the way until she felt the door. There was no one there. There was no reason to suspect otherwise because she'd always had good hearing, and one could always trust their eyes. She took a deep breath to try to keep the heart palpitations at bay until she was at least outside, and knew she had to move quick if she wanted to avoid losing consciousness.  She hadn't even reached the lock when she felt the hand around her neck while hearing nothing because he hadn't made a sound. What she heard was her own startled gasp.

Reconnection. A Face in the Window.

Damon was starving again. But he'd found a toy he'd forgotten about in his pocket, and he'd since perfected the cool ass open and close flip top lighter move the actions stars did in movies. Flick of the wrist down to open, light the smoke, ring finger thumb combination flip closed. It was the noise that satisfied him. It made him think of the times he'd been cool, and it made him crave cigarettes. He knew it was the cool factor that drew him in, and he never would've admitted it.  He thought about lighting a fire to draw Lilith back, but he had no way to put it out just in case Lilith was unconcerned. Maybe she'd casually exit the building and leave him to burn. Damon flipped the lighter closed with a tink that for some reason reminded him of what freebasing smelled like. He'd never thought of his human life primarily in terms of prior drug use, but sometimes he surprised himself with a recollection that he recognized as truth that made him question what he really did know about his prior existence.
 Nothing burned as bad as his hunger now. He knew that the next time he saw Lilith that he'd rip her apart and drink deeply of her blood. He craved her. He also craved Luna, skin warm enough to send his body shivering. The sensation of her blood running down his chin was a delectable fantasy. Contemplating his own death of starvation, Damon regretted never having the opportunity to spend time with her during her waking hours. He tried to remember what talking to her was like, but he couldn't focus the thought for too long. It always drifted back to what she tasted like. The hunger.
It was hard for him to stay awake. He didn't know if it was boredom or madness, caused by weakness, the blood from the young woman's body having long been spent. There was a dull ache in his stomach. He wondered if maybe the woman had been sick. He wouldn't have been surprised if they'd thrown it in to make him sick. Could human disease effect even their kind?
 It was after a long nap that he was jolted awake by a movement on the bed. His eyes snapped open and he wondered why he hadn't sensed her enter the room, wondered how she'd been able to sneak up on him. He sat up as quickly as he could, but she managed to knock him onto the floor before he could even begin to carry out his plan of ripping her heart out and eating it.
He tried to get up but she pushed him down with her foot. Her stiletto heel was pressing dangerously close to where he thought his heart should be. As nice a view as he had, his brain would not cease to keep reminding him that impalement wasn't on his list of ways he'd like to die. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lilith asked.
"I was trying to kill you," he said, feeling beyond fear. Fear he'd learned to handle.
"What?" There was a moment of amusement before it was replaced with anger. He'd done even less than he'd thought. She let go of his neck for a moment and pulled him by his hair into a sitting position. It didn't hurt much but as the strands tightened in her fist he winced at the idea of an afterlife without hair. She pulled his face close to hers. "I meant, what the hell do you think you're doing getting involved with those conservationists? Do you have any idea of the mess we have outside right now?  They're lined up down the street." She threw his head back onto the floor. "They've made you into a fucking martyr. They got a hold of Dianna Morgan, you know that? They tied her to a stake and burned her like a witch, right in front of the building."  Damon had always figured, without Lucas saying it, that if he was caught, he was on his own.  Now the pressure in his chest loosened with the hope that he was being saved. Unless of course, the resistance was planning on making an example out of Damon, too. "Dianna Morgan, she was a nice girl. You should know. You seemed to think she was nice when you decided you wanted to go home with her." If she put any more weight on the stiletto, she'd break the skin. "You killed her." Lilith lifted her foot and the pressure was gone. She was the last bitch that needed to tell somebody when they were supposed to feel remorseful. She looked at him a moment lying there helpless and she seemed satisfied that he was still as pathetic as ever. "Get up," she said.
Damon got up. The best thing to do was to play along. The truth was that he didn't feel a bit guilty about the pretty red head that he'd met. He also wasn't angry about her betrayal. He was getting used to it. "What now?" 
"You're leaving," She said, and he suppressed a smile. "I'm done with you, Damon." She headed to the elevator and he followed closely, behind staring at her neck and not fully believing her. She stared straight ahead as the doors closed around them.
 Damon clutched his stomach. "I'm starving, Lilith," He said. She didn't acknowledge him. "Please, Lilith, for old time's sake." He wasn't used to begging, not for that. Lilith turned her head and looked for a second like she'd changed her mind.
He felt the sting on his cheek before the sound. Pinning him, she pressed against his. He felt a cold rough tongue against his cheek. She was licking the blood from the broken skin inflicted by her rings. Damon wanted to wipe off but was too weak to push her away. "For old time's sake," she whispered. He knew that she was smiling.  
As soon as the doors opened, hands clasped his upper arms and pulled him through the doors. He didn't know why, but he was terrified, convinced that his time was up, Lilith had signed his death warrant, and he was headed straight for the slaughter machines.  He called her name, tried to pull back, but they wouldn't let him go. They pushed him right through the front door and he stumbled blindly into waiting arms that pulled him further out into the street. There was a bonfire subsiding and the smell of burnt meat. He could only see shapes, hear screaming voices, but the fire was too bright and left a glare in his eyes. Lilith hadn't lied, but he was too crazed by the smell of blood around him to focus on anything. He ran out into the night away from all of the cold bodies. He was looking for a warm one.

Luna woke up coughing, as if a moment before she regained consciousness, her body had forgotten to breathe. She was no longer in the brightly lit warm studio. She was in someone's cold, dark apartment. She could feel wrappers around her hands, and the air was dusty and stale. It was dark, but she was rested enough to know that hours had passed. She stood up and felt along the wall for a light switch, kicking glass bottles and scraps of paper out of the way. Before she could take more than a few steps she heard a snap and the apartment filled with light. She froze and her heart almost stopped. There was a handsome man with playful brown eyes standing at the light switch, grinning. 
"Who are you?" She asked, but inside she was sure. This was the painter. Whether he went by Garcia Copeland or Michael Masaitis, this was the man she was looking for. She didn't know how he managed to do it, but this man had tricked a lot of people. 
"Who am I?" He repeated. He looked so comfortable, just leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "You should know. You went through a lot of trouble to find me. I should be asking you, who you are."
"My name is," she started, but he put up a hand to stop her. 
"I already know who you are," He said. 
 Luna swallowed and tried to calm her shaking so she could talk. "How did I get here?"  She asked, putting a hand to her head, hoping to stop the pounding. Lord, please offer protection from the crazy man. Had he drugged her? Oh God, now she had to worry about potentially failing a drug test. No one would ever believe that she wasn't crazy.
"You don't remember? You fell asleep in the car, and I had to carry you up." He was insane, the guy had lost it. Luna had been blacked out since the studio, and the chances were slim of her being convinced to get in that guy's car. He gestured towards the couch which looked like it might collapse any minute. It was purple velour and hideous. "Please, sit. The main attraction will be here shortly." 
She decided he was too close to the door for her to run, so she walked over and sat, the layers of collected dust making it hard for her to breathe. She tensed up when he sat next to her. "I came about a painting," she said, trying to talk quickly and maybe work her way out.
He smiled at her, his grin was one of comforting. "I know what you came for." He didn't continue, just looked at his watch, stood up, and walked out of the room as if he were looking for something. Luna knew that he was just trying to kill time, but she was anxious about what was coming next. Who was on their way?
"Mr. Copeland, please. I don't have much time. I have to be going soon," she said, wanting to make sure that he knew she would be missed if she didn't make it home. But would she? 
"Call me Michael," he said, as he came back into the room. He handed her something and she took it before she realized it was her purse. "And I know you'll be leaving soon." 
Luna nodded, confused. Good. She held onto her purse tightly, tempted to go through it but didn't, just ran her hand across the soft black leather. The man wasn't old enough to be the famous painter she was looking for. Masaitis would be ancient. Someone had made a mistake. The guy was running a scam. "Michael, I came looking for Garcia Copeland."
Michael walked over and sat back next to her on the couch. He smelled odd, not good, not bad, just plain. "You don't give a damn about Garcia Copeland. You came looking for Damon. But don't worry. He'll be here soon. He's got no where else to go." His eyes weren't focused on her breasts, but they weren't on her face either and she had a thought for a split second that he was able to hear her heart beating. She wasn't sure why she thought that. It was all madness and Michael was definitely unbalanced. But how did he know what he did? God, she'd been crazy to even start the search. She should've just forgotten about Damon. "Just don't be alarmed by his appearance," Michael added. 
Luna was about to ask why, when the door slammed open and she almost jumped through the ceiling.  Damon was standing in the doorway, blood dripping from his mouth, and yes, his skin was glowing, his hair was black, and Luna was screaming at the top of her lungs, and pushing her body deep into the couch. Damon just stood there, not knowing whether the human sitting on the couch was real, or if being starved had done something to his mind. 
Michael was the first one to break the silence. "She's cute but she doesn't follow direction very well." 
Damon wiped his mouth, felt disgusted by the blood there, and felt like an animal. "What are you doing here?" He asked her, but Luna had her clamped over her mouth and showed no sign of speaking, period. "What's she doing here?" He asked Michael, who was looking very pleased with himself.
"She came looking for you." He said. "I just kept her busy until you got here."
Luna thought he'd kept her drugged and she was hallucinating, but she couldn't take the hand from her mouth to begin to figure anything out. She thought she may start hyperventilating, but as long as she didn't faint, she was doing pretty well.
Damon ran his hand through his hair and wiped the remaining blood from his face with the back of his hand. "Do you have a towel or something?"
"It's a bad time," Luna said blurted out, practically jumping up out of her seat. Jesus, was that the best thing she could of think to say? She'd been wrong, all wrong. She needed to leave as soon as possible. Damon was a bad man. It was as simple as that.
"No," Damon said too quickly, too loudly. "Please, just wait a minute. I know this looks bad but just let me get cleaned up." What the hell was he going to say to her? How the hell could she have found him? He looked like a monster, but all he wanted to do was impress her. He didn't know why, she was just a human.
Luna was shaking her head, wriggling her hands together, tapping her foot. She wanted to leave, wanted to run for it, but they'd chase her, wouldn't they? Why are the crazy ones always so cute?
Michael spoke to her in a soothing voice, and with him talking like they were alone, it was easier for her to meet his brown eyes. "It's all right," He said. "You'll get your answers soon enough. Just give him a minute to settle in. He's been gone for a good while. He didn't know you were looking for him, or else probably would've found a way to get here sooner."
Luna nodded, relaxed a bit despite her better judgment and looked at Damon, who nodded in agreement. How could she leave now? "Okay," she said, "but I have to be going soon. Someone's expecting me." 
Damon nodded again. She was something special and he couldn't let her get away. "I'll be quick." He ducked into Michael's room and then emerged with a clean shirt on a few moments later.  All traces of blood were gone from his skin. Michael gave up his seat on the couch and Damon sat next to her, both of them suddenly aware of how close they were to each other. There was electricity there. "Luna, there are a lot of things that need clarification."
"Yeah, like everything about you," she said. 
Before Damon could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Damon's eyes widened and he turned. Michael came back into the room looking guilty that he hadn't told them there'd be an interruption. 
"Wait," Damon said, and Michael paused with his hand on the doorknob. Without saying anything else, Damon grabbed Luna's arm and led her towards Michael's bedroom. He walked straight to the window and looked outside. Yes, he was in luck. "Luna," He said softly, "You may not be too comfortable with this." He opened the window and climbed out onto the fire escape to make sure it was safe. It seemed sound, didn't shake when he stepped out on it. He put his hand out to help her but before she could give him her hand, there came a loud noise coming from the living room followed by a cry out in pain. It sounded like Michael. 
Damon considered running for a moment, but remembered all that Michael had done for him before they hadn't even officially met. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the fire escape. "Run home. I'll come to you as soon as I can." 
He left a very confused Luna. She didn't know what happened, only that she was left to climb down a fire escape and who knew what time of night it was?
Damon could feel the heat as soon as he stepped back inside. There was a fire. He grabbed the blanket off the bed in some kind of unconscious instinct and went back through the open doorway. He saw Michael lying by the open front door, screaming, his arm on fire. Damon thought for a split second that maybe they hadn't heard of STOP DROP AND ROLL back when Michael was growing up. Damon threw himself on top Michael with the blanket stretched between his hands, pressing it into the heat, trying to forget that vampires were highly flammable. 
He looked up at Lucas, who was standing there with the other two men who looked like undertakers in their grey suits, and Damon wished he'd never met the old man. "Why the hell would you do that?" 
"He refused to tell me where you'd gone," Lucas said. Damon hated how he looked like such a pretentious snob, who the hell did he think he was? He wasn't more powerful than Lilith, the bitch was still walking.
"I was just in the other room." Damon sat up from Michael, who was flinching while he pulled back the blanket. The skin underneath was scarred black. "And you know Michael. You know what side he's on."
"The situation had changed, Damon. Why did you run from us?" Lucas still spoke with no emotion in his voice, and it just made Damon angrier.
Michael sat up and for the first time since Damon had met him, he wasn't smiling. He was drenched in sweat and holding his arm. He didn't speak.
"I thought that Lilith was supposed to be dead."
Lucas pursed his lips. "The situation had changed."  
In other words, they'd failed. Damon tried to stare him down but couldn't. "They were starving me there, Lucas. I needed to eat." Lucas nodded. "I appreciate you guys getting me out of there," he added.
"We try to protect our own." 
But there was more to it, Damon suspected. But he needed to wrap up the conversation because his mind was on the human girl running through the dark. "What's the plan?"
Lucas hesitated. "You've got to be careful Damon. We'll give it a week and then I'll get in touch with you. You need to lay low during that time. I'm warning you Damon, that if things get out of hand, we may ask you to leave the country."
"I understand." 
Lucas looked down at Michael. "Get this man some food." They left without saying another word. It was as much of an apology as they'd ever get.

When Luna had descended one flight closer to bottom the entire structure began to rattle and heard the ladder slide down. She stopped, her heart almost jumping out of her mouth, and looked down to see a blonde haired man who looked vaguely familiar. She descended further and he seemed to notice her for the first time. They seemed to recognize each other at the same time, Luna because of his pale blue eyes. 
"I know you," he said, squinting through the slats, craning up towards her with hands on the ladder. "You're that waitress." She went down a couple landings and came to the ladder. He offered her hand to help her down and she accepted it. "What are you doing climbing down a fire escape in the middle of the night?" 
"You wouldn't believe me," Luna said, with a little effort. She was trying to climb down without falling and breaking something. She was nervous enough to talk to Mr. Blue Eyes with the VIP passes.
"I'm Kris, by the way," He said his eyes still raised, his hands on either side of the ladder, as if going to climb up.
 "Luna. Why are you climbing up a fire escape in the middle of the night?" She asked, and she was smiling. She didn't know why.
Kris shrugged. "I was trying to play a joke on a friend."
Luna took a few steps past him towards the street. "Well, feel free to continue." She was glad that the alley was well lit. Kris didn't seem like a lunatic, but neither did Damon and she was beginning to question her personality assessment skills. 
"Well, I don't know." Kris looked up again and looked defeated. "Now that I'm found out, it sort of feels sophomoric. I probably look like some kind of deviant." He let go of the ladder. There was something about the way that he said deviant that caught her attention and made her pause. "I probably don't look any better." She started walking away but Kris followed. He was on the border or being too close to her, and she was on the edge of the flight reflex. "It's kind of late," he said. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" 
Luna hadn't thought about it. She had no idea where she was. "I'm fine." She reached the sidewalk but paused in deciding which way to walk. She recognized the area. She'd been to the bookstore they were standing in front of a few weeks ago. 
Kris followed her step. "You know, after we met, I had an eye out for you in the VIP room the rest of the night."
"Can you stop following me?" Luna asked, not wanting to beat around the bush when it came to her own personal safety. She didn't need anymore dangerous boyfriends. Jesus, she corrected herself, why had she just thought that?
Kris came to a dead stop and Luna couldn't help but pause for a moment too. He looked guilty, and embarrassed. He seemed like a decent guy. "Look, I'm just worried about you wandering the streets in the early morning hours. I'm trying to be a gentleman." She didn't respond, but didn't walk away. "Here," he said reaching into his back pocket, "Take my wallet. You can hold it until we get you home. Just in case I try something funny."
Luna hesitated, but she was the kind of girl who followed her instincts, and something told her that Kris was more likely to ask her out then try anything sinister. She took his wallet. "Thanks. I appreciate it." She felt comfortable with the well-dressed Kris, because he was wearing shoes instead of sneakers and he smelled so good. And it was scary to walk the streets at night.
When they reached the crosswalk, Kris turned to her. "You never did tell me. What happened to you that night?"
Luna smirked. Oh God, how many girls had fallen for that? Try being a good tipper, it may work better. "I'm not really a club kind of girl," she said, making sure there was enough comfort room between them as they walked. It was odd to meet a man in an alley, and she wasn't taking chances.
"Well, what kind of girl are you?" Kris asked, giving her a small smile from the side of his face. Yes, the cute guy was officially interested. The signal changed to WALK.
 "I don't know. I guess I'm just a coffee after the movie kind of girl." They came across a main road and Kris fell in step with her. She couldn't help but feel more secure with his presence. The streets were more familiar, she was headed in the right direction. She shrugged. 
Kris smiled at her. "Really? So you're not the party until you can't remember what you did last night, kind of girl? It just so happens that I'm not into that."
"Yeah? So the club thing was just a cover." Luna said, laughing. "To hide this sensitive talky side."
Kris was laughing too. "I'm a liar." He threw his hands up. "I like going out. I like to party. Well, maybe I'll try the coffee thing one of these days, and who knows? Maybe I can be that guy."
Luna smiled. "I think you'd like it. You're a talker, I can tell." 
"You know, normally, I'm not really much of a talker, but I guess I'm not usually in situations where I get the opportunity to sit one on one with somebody." 
"It's the club music, I guess." She pointed to her ears.
 "It's getting late," Luna said, wanting to lose him before she got back to her apartment. "The sun's coming up soon." She must've been passed out for a while. The adrenaline was still pumping. 
Kris swallowed and slowed down. "You know, here I am walking in the complete wrong direction. Are you almost home?" 
Luna nodded. "Yeah, one more block over. I'll be okay."
 "You sure?" He was already backing away from her.
"Yup," she said. 
"When are you working?" He asked, looking like he didn't have anything to do with his hands and so put them in his pockets.
"Tomorrow night. I start at six."
"Maybe I'll stop by." He had a great smile, and straight white teeth. She wanted to kiss him.
"Here's your wallet," she said, feeling like her face was glowing. She'd had faith in God's plan. Maybe it was fate. He was definitely charming, the kind of guy that never paid attention to her in high school.
"Thanks. I'll see you then. And try to keep the walking by yourself after dark to a minimum," he added, with a grin. "I can't be everywhere."
On her way home Luna wondered if Damon would ever show up, or if he'd disappear again. She sure as hell wasn't going to look him up again, that's for sure.

Luna dreamt that Damon came to her bed and lifted her out of it. He opened the window of her bedroom and tossed her out. She screamed until her lungs bled, as the ground came closer, and watched Damon lean out the window and smile down at her. The dream evaporated before she could hit the ground. She discovered when she opened her eyes that the pounding she'd thought was her heart, had been someone knocking on the front door. The clock on the windowsill said 4 o'clock. How had she managed to sleep the whole day away? Luna stood up and took a moment to steady herself in the dim room before she even attempted to walk. Adrienne had a 3:30 meeting, so Luna made sure to look through the peephole before opening the door.
Harvey was standing on the other side, looking to her in her sleepy haze like a knight in shining armor. Luna opened the door, glad to have the company, and then regretted it before he even stepped inside. She was a mess. She had bags under her eyes, morning breath, and her pajamas still on. A pink tank top and boy shorts weren't as bad as a grandma nightgown, but she suddenly couldn't remember the last time she shaved her legs.  "Hey," Luna said, trying to look put together. She remembered she had work at six.
"Hey, Luna," Harvey said, walking into her apartment uninvited. "I was just passing by. Have you eaten yet?"
Luna closed the door behind him then rubbed the forehead. The headache she'd fallen asleep with was still there. "No."
"Did you just wake up?" He asked, noticing her appearance for the first time. He was dressed in typical daywear, a blue and orange polo and khaki cargo pants. 
"Yeah," she said, trying to rub a kink out of her neck. "I didn't get home until late last night."
Harvey gave her a strange look but then proceeded to sit on the couch. "Well, maybe you should change. A cold front came in last night. It may snow tonight."
Luna shook her head. "No, I can't go. I have to work."
Harvey shrugged. "You got time for coffee then? We can walk across the street."
"No, I really have to get going." She didn't want to spend her short time before work trying to humor Harvey. What she really needed was a long hot bath.
"That's cool." He shrugged. "I got time to kill so, can I walk with you?"
Luna suppressed a sigh. He'd been too nice to her to blow him off. "Ok, but I need a shower."
"Ok," He said, taking a closer look at what she was wearing. Yeah, that's what she needed, another man in her life. Hopefully the little frogs on her shorts wouldn't drive him wild. She went back to her room and locked the door behind her. She could hear him turn on the TV. Her body felt sore from sleeping so long, and she felt like she'd wasted the whole day.
 Luna flipped on her light and collapsed in the bed, exasperated. She covered her face, took a deep breath, and tried to collect herself. She'd developed a tremor in her hand, she could feel it. Then she heard it, the slight trembling of someone lowering the ladder on her fire escape. She didn't move for a moment, made sure that she wasn't imagining it, and then sat up. She didn't know why, she supposed that someone could be using it to get downstairs, but she'd lived there for years and had never heard it being used. It should be almost impossible to pull it down from the street, it was too high for the average person to jump and grab on to, then there was the lever that held the ladder up. She heard foot falls on the metal and they were coming closer. She wanted to yank the blinds open but was afraid she wouldn't have time. She got off of the bed and thought that maybe she should get Harvey. It must've been Kris, following girls home. Or Damon, momentarily leaving one of her nightmares.
Luna was halfway to the door when the footsteps stopped. She was breathing hard, and she felt stupid. It was nothing; someone was taking a short cut, just like she had last night. Harvey didn't need to know about the men she'd met.  She stood still a few more moments, and when she didn't hear anything, reminded herself that it was getting late. She sat down on the bed and reached under until she felt her sneakers, pulled them out. Her heart beat was still elevated and her ears listened for any slight sound from the fire escape. Damn it, why hadn't Adrienne taken the room with the fire escape? At the time it seemed like the safest room. She knew she had to verify that there was no one sitting outside of her window before she could relax, so she crawled across the bed and took the cord for the blinds in her hand. She took a deep breath and yanked the cord. There it was. The face in the window. Luna screamed and fell backwards off the bed.
She didn't know what to do, just sat there trying to breathe, took everything in and tempting to just have Harvey chase Damon away. 
"Luna, are you okay in there?"  Harvey was at the door, her savior. She didn't know how to answer. But how could she not let Damon in after she'd actively tried to track him down?
"I'm fine, I just tripped on a shoe," Luna called out, doing her best to sound normal, but well, that was probably impossible for her. "I'll be out in a few minutes." 
Luna stood up and looked at Damon. He just stared back through the glass, no emotion his face, no promises of what would happen if she let him in. He made no move to open the window himself, so Luna crawled over the bed and looked at him closer. She was half afraid that he'd bust the glass open with something and grab her like some kind of horror movie, but he didn't move. So, she unlocked the window and opened it to let him in. 
Damon didn't move, seemed about as afraid as she was.
 "Are you sure?" He asked. 
Luna hesitated then nodded. "Yeah, come in."
Damon crawled in, careful not to touch her, but he settled on the bed less than a foot away. He folded his legs under him and didn't meet her eyes right away. He had no desire to feed from her, she smelled too good. He thought maybe he just wanted to kiss her.  "A little bright in here, isn't it?" Damon asked, not knowing what to say. He wasn't used to human company. 
 "Do you have someone in there with you?" Asked Harvey from the other side of the door.  Luna immediately began to blush.
Damon looked at her, alarmed. The last thing he wanted was to reschedule. His time of freedom was limited and he had to keep off the streets. He just needed to see her, talk to her, and he'd be out of her life, forever. "Who is that?" He asked her. He had trouble disguising the jealousy in his voice.
Luna didn't know what to tell Harvey. It sure as hell wasn't going to be the truth. She turned her stereo on. "Just listening to music." She called, "I'll be out in a minute."
"Is that your boyfriend?" Damon asked.
"Is that your boyfriend or something?" Harvey asked from the other side of the door. He sounded angry.
Who the hell did he think he was? Luna narrowed her eyebrows and stuck her head out of her bedroom door.  "Harvey, please. I'm trying to get dressed." He started to speak but she interrupted him. "Go, go watch TV," she ordered. She didn't move from the door until he went back to the other room. Then she closed it and locked it again.
She lowered the stereo as she walked back to Damon. 
"I'm sorry," he said, feeling shy for the first time in a long time. He had a fucking crush. "I should've used the door."
"You scared the shit out of me," she said, her anger flaring. 
"There's too much to explain." Damon said as if it were unfortunate.
"Yeah, well start explaining." She walked over to where she had a postcard print of his painting. Damon just watched her in silence. "Explain this while you're at it," she said, practically throwing it at him as if she'd rather had hit him with it. Her hands were shaking.  Damon looked at a picture of himself. "And while I was looking for you, I saw one of me, too," she added, oddly calm. She'd pictured this moment in her head before, but it had always ended where he began to speak.
Damon turned the card over to see the artist. Then he started laughing. "You met Michael last night." 
"The man who painted that died about eighty years ago in a house fire."
Damon swallowed hard and handed the card back to her. "I guess that's where the explaining comes in."
There loud male voice was back at the door. "See you later, Luna. I've got to go. Next time just, just send me home. It's better than being humiliated." Luna and Damon just looked at each other, Damon afraid to speak, Luna now not knowing if she should go out to him. A few moments later, the door slammed shut.
"Aren't you going after him?" Damon asked, and he couldn't keep all of the bitterness out of his tone. He didn't even know the girl.
"He's not my boyfriend," Luna said. To Damon it sounded like that guy could never be her boyfriend. "He's just a friend. He'll get over it."  
Damon nodded and felt better knowing that he was alone with her. "Ok. Well I'm not sure where to begin. I've never done this before." He tried to ignore the fact that he knew that he shouldn't be talking to her. Even Lucas would be wondering why he was sitting having a conversation with his food. "Luna, you have to understand that what I tell you may be dangerous." He paused and looked into her light brown eyes and never wanted to look away. He was itchy again, scratched the soft part of his arm. There was something about her, he couldn't quite grasp it, but her lips were soft and pink and just begging to be bitten. "Once you're aware of what truly goes on in the world around you, you can't just forget it or pretend that everything is all right." Luna didn't say anything, so he continued. "So, if you have any doubts whatsoever, I can leave right now. You can have your normal life." He felt it was a good precautionary statement, although he knew she'd found him somehow, and she probably needed to hear what he had to say, and because as a human, she couldn't comprehend how much her life could change. What scared him was thinking of how he'd react with the news if he were still human, and the truth was that he didn't think he'd be able to hold on to his sanity had he been told that his species wasn't on the top of the food chain.
Luna didn't think there was a way for her life to be normal again but at that moment when she was ready to hear the truth and really listen to him, she realized that she still hadn't brushed her teeth, her hair was a mess, and she was still in her pajamas. Not that he was anyone who she thought she needed to impress, the last time he'd seen her she was still in that state, and it wasn't like Kris had showed up. It was only Damon sitting there all in black again, looking nervous and scratching his neck.  Instead of her answer to his question she said, "I, uh," she pointed her mouth but thought better of it, "I'll be right back," she said and left the room, heading to the bathroom. 
As she brushed her teeth, she couldn't help but think about his eyes. They were perfectly gray, like Crayola gray, or the specific shade of the sky that said rain was just moments away.  She'd never met anyone with truly gray eyes before. She put on the bra that she'd hung in the bathroom to dry, and slipped on a pair of jeans that were on top of the hamper that may or may not have actually been clean. If he'd smelled her morning breath, it was too late. She hurried back to the room, still brushing her hair, but spotted the clock in the living room and cursed because she was about to be late for work if she didn't leave. "Damon, I can't do this right now," she said as soon as she stepped into the room and didn't even realize what she was saying until the words left her lips. He looked crestfallen. "I've got to be at work in like ten minutes." 
"Can't you call in sick or something?" Damon felt the weight of his confession on his shoulders. They were about to have a fucking moment. The first crucial moment, something monumental in his life, he felt it coming, and all she was worried about something as trivial as work. How human. "This is important shit. I mean, it deals with your whole concept of what you consider reality to be." He was scratching hard on one spot on his wrist and it was turning red and he saw her eyes drawn to it.
"Are you okay?" She asked. "What, did you fall in poison ivy on the way over here?" She wasn't sure if she should be alarmed or amused.
"No," he said, narrowed his eyes. "I just," he thought of some way to explain himself, but it didn't come. "I don't know," he pushed back his hair. "I get itchy when I'm nervous."
"Okay," Luna said. She could accept that. Sometimes, she bit the inside of her lips until they bled. She glanced at the time on the wall again. "Well, can't you come back after I get off or something?"
Damon held back the sigh, and his hands that wanted to start scratching again. "I guess." He stood up and ran his hand through his hair again, God he did have a lot of nervous ticks didn't he, wondering if he should even bother coming back at all. "What time?" 
Luna hesitated because they were about to have the conversation she'd been dreaming about. She couldn't take it back, couldn't wait any longer. She could get another job if she had to. "You know what? Let me talk to my boss." When she looked at him, Damon had the sexiest smile she'd ever seen. The thought surprised her. She didn't know him, still didn't know what happened the night of "The Incident." But she wasn't scared, despite knowing she should be. 
Damon looked down at the picture of himself wondering how exactly they'd managed to cross paths in the whole huge scheme of things. It had to mean something. Maybe Michael had been right. The paper was stiff in his hand, was smooth to the touch, and he wanted to rip it to pieces. That was not who he was. 
"Well, he wasn't happy, but I told him I was sick and contagious," Luna said, as she leaning against the doorframe. 
"Could you come in and close the door?" Damon asked, feeling bad about telling her what to do, "I just don't want Adrienne to find me here," he said. "I don't really feel the need to explain myself to her. Although she probably hates me." The itching was back but he ignored it 
Luna nodded while closing the door. Having it closed made her feel awkward and nervous, like they were about to make out instead of just talk. "She does hate you." She swallowed and crossed her arms in front of her. Damon, this had better be good because I really can't afford to take tonight off."
"I'm sorry," he said. He knew it was the best place to start.
"I don't want to hear I'm sorry. I want to hear an explanation." She was full of nervous energy but she busied herself feeding her fish to hide her shaking hands. 
"Ok. Where to begin?" He paused. "Okay so from the beginning." He waited for her to stop moving to have her full attention and then looked into her eyes, "I'm a vampire."
A smile teased on her lips and she put the fish food down. "What?" Crazy idea, it was a crazy idea looking him up, what had she think he was going to say? Something rational? Well, The Incident hadn't been rational, the incident had been a nightmare and of course Damon would now kill her and drink her blood. She was stupid for letting Harvey leave.
Damon was glad he'd fed before he came. As beautiful as she was, he could've torn her apart if he'd felt like it. He was trying not to feel like it. "I know it's hard to believe. I wouldn't believe it, either. But from someone who's died and is still walking around, believe me, it's possible. You've got to understand that there are things in this world that are unexplainable. You're going to have to expand your mind and think outside the box for this one."
"You need to leave." Luna said suddenly, realizing what a huge mistake she'd made. She felt light headed, like she'd pass out, and plopped herself down on her computer chair instead of sitting next to him on the bed. Something told her she was in serious danger, but she couldn't quite comprehend what was going on in their interaction.
"Where do you think the blood came from?" Damon asked, immediately getting annoyed although he knew he must have more patience. He just wanted for it to be over, for the talk to pass, for her to understand and move on.
"You know, I wasn't hurt or anything," she said, hearing the defensiveness in her tone. "It must've been fake." She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her he might have been telling her the truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth. She felt like she should run, call the police, scream or something, but she couldn't move, she could barely breathe. The most experience she'd had with vampire folklore were movies and TV shows that made them look like monsters. But Damon wasn't a monster, he was a cute guy, and there were no such things as vampires. If there were, why hadn't she heard about them before?
"Look," Damon said, lifting up his lips so she could see his long incisors. 
"So? I've seen those before. Halloween costumes, whatever. You need to leave before I call the police."  Luna stood up, and knew she'd have to get out of the room because she wasn't sure if she'd be able to run yet, but she knew she was about to throw up, and she didn't want to get any on the carpet.
Damon scrambled to think of something that would prove his case. He didn't care if she called the police. He wanted her to understand, he wasn't even sure why he did, but even if he never saw her again, he couldn't leave her like that, without understanding. "Wait, wait," He said, because she started heading for the door. "I can show you something."
Luna turned and Damon disappeared from where he'd been sitting on the bed. She blinked a few times and narrowed her eyes. He was gone. Luna screamed again, this time shorter, and backed up against the wall. 
Damon then crossed back over because he didn't like the stuffy feeling he felt when he was on the other side at night. 
Luna just collapsed back onto her desk chair with her mouth hanging open. "Are you kidding me?" She knew it was a stupid thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else. Her mind had frozen and her entire life was now different. She couldn't get over that.
"I'm a vampire, Luna," Damon said, with his elbows on his knees, talking with his hands just like his Uncle Stu did because that was the closest to a dad Damon had ever had. The memory startled him and he pushed it into the back of his mind to examine later. "That was just a fancy parlor trick. What it comes down to is that I need human blood to live. I was drinking your blood when you woke up. That's it. That's the whole story. That's what happened." How simple, how unbelievable.
"Why are you telling me this?" Luna put her face in her hands. She knew why he was telling her this, because she'd wanted to know. It was her fault, and she couldn't blame him now.
"Ever since that night, I can't stop thinking about you. I think you tracked me down because you feel the same way," Damon said. He wondered if he was being too honest. 
"I wanted to find out about the painting," she said not knowing why she was so angry. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and Damon felt like a bad man. "That's why I tried to find Michael Masaitis. The search led me to you." Damon looked embarrassed, like he wanted to take it all back. Luna felt guilty lying but she did it because she knew she shouldn't have been feeling what she felt. It just didn't fit.
 "The thing about Michael is that he sees things," Damon said, trying to explain something that he didn't know too much about himself. "Like visions, I guess. I haven't known him that long but he's pretty accurate. I didn't even know he painted. I have some questions for him myself when I get back."
"So Michael is a," she couldn't bring herself to say it, so she didn't. "He's like you, too?" She was nervous enough being in the room with such a predator, like if she said the wrong thing, he'd attack. She noticed how quickly and gracefully he moved, just precise. If he wanted to attack her, there was no way she'd be able to escape. He could do anything he wanted to her. Dear God, why would you create something higher up on the food chain than us?
"Yes, Michael is a vampire too," he said, using the tone of voice, he'd used to calm people down back when he was alive and how people felt mattered.
"Aren't vampires supposed to be really old or something? Like they've lived for centuries. They're like some kind of Transylvanian feudal thing." She seemed like she wanted to talk him out of it.
"I'm fairly new at this," he said, smiling. "And I've never been to Transylvania. So I guess not." 
A new thought came to her. "You're not going to kill me, are you? Because, I don't want to die." Her eyes dropped.
Damon thought she looked so funny with such a serious look on her face that he just started laughing, despite the fact that people with averting eyes were usually lying and that struck him as odd, that she would be lying about that. "No," he said, suddenly in the best mood he could remember. "I won't kill you." He was also the most relaxed he remembered being, even with what he remembered from the living. "I won't hurt you at all."
Luna nodded and took a deep breath. "Ok, so what now?"
Damon shrugged. "I don't know. I've never done this before."
"Where do you live?"
"I'm staying with Michael right now."
"You sleep during the day?" She asked. 
"Yup," he said, nodding his head.
"Okay, so when you say vampire, you mean like Dracula, like you can't go out into the sunlight, you are repelled by garlic and melt with holy water?" Luna still couldn't shake the unbelieving tone.
Damon considered it. "I don't know anyone named Dracula, I can go outside in the sunlight but you just can't see me. And I'm not sure about that other stuff." He was calm, had his hands folded on his lap, and seemed like he could answer questions all night.
"Do you sleep in a coffin?" She asked, squinting her eyes suspiciously like accepting the stereotype was just too much. 
"On a couch right now. I came into a little setback when me and my," he hesitated, "girlfriend broke up."
"Oh, you guys can have girlfriends?" She thought they could probably have whatever they wanted, really.
Damon nodded, and knew it came nowhere close to defining the type of relationship he'd had with Lilith. A relationship had certain connotations like sharing things fifty/fifty, loving each other, feeling safe. "Yeah."
"Have you really thought about me a lot since that night?" She asked, wanting to steer to the conversation back to the issue of them. Was there a them?
"A little," Damon said with his head down, embarrassed again.
Luna liked the way his hair hung down over his eyes. "I've been thinking about you too a lot," she admitted. Was that right? Should she have feelings for someone who'd tried to suck her blood a week and a half earlier? 
Damon smiled and felt a little more confident. "I didn't used to believe in much, but since this has happened, I'm starting to really think there are things out there that are bigger than all of us. I'm starting to think that all kinds of things are possible. I mean, what if we really do have some kind of connection?"
"What do you mean, connection?" She asked, although she knew what he meant. That God had a higher plan. 
Damon lost his courage. He was channeling his insecure nerd days. Some things never change. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head.  
They sat in silence because there was something going on. A change in the world, and Luna felt it right down to her core. She'd never see things the same. "You were right, that was a lot of important shit." She nervously picked a string off of her shirt and wondered if he could see her hands shaking.
"You don't even know the half of it." Damon pushed his hair back and scratched his head discretely, hoping she wouldn't notice.
"How many of you are there?" She asked. How many had she met that she didn't know about? 
"I have no idea, but Luna, there's an entire underground culture in this city that no one knows about. I think back to when I was alive, and I can't believe it, I can't imagine it."
When he was alive. That was powerful and no, she couldn't see it either. "Wow." She swallowed hard, repeating the last part in her head. When he was alive. She took a deep breath.
"Yeah," Damon said. "Everything in your life seems so suddenly unimportant now, doesn't it?"
She smiled at him. She was no longer afraid. "What's it like?" 
He shrugged and sat back, leaning on his hands. "I don't know. I feel more aware than I ever did, like everything's brighter, louder, clearer. Kind of like when you're high I guess," he said smiling. "The good things feel better, the bad things feel worse."
She shook her head, the interpretation wasn't working. "I've never done drugs."
Damon raised his eyebrows, resisted a good itch from his leg, but his smile dropped when his mind went to the darker side of his condition. "I'm hungry all the time. I just control the urges the best I can."
"So you just sneak into girl's bedrooms?"
He shook his head. "Not usually. Mostly it's people who live on the street. I can't just go into people's homes. We actually, we have to be invited first." He felt perverted and ashamed, and what did it matter what she thought when she would never understand and he knew that. "Like the Dracula thing."
"So, how did you get in here . . .?" Then she remembered that he'd come originally with Adrienne. She swallowed hard again. "So, didn't you sneak into my bedroom while I was sleeping?"
Damon hesitated, wanting to make sure he was telling her the truth. He needed to be more practiced in it. "Don't get me wrong, I've been thinking about feeding from you nonstop since that night, but I just promised you that I wouldn't hurt you. I'm not some kind of monster. I can get food anywhere."
"Why would you think about feeding from me if you could get food anywhere?" Luna said, and he had trouble telling if she was teasing or not.
He leaned in closer to her, and started talking with his hands again, something he realized that he always did when he had something important to say. "It's more than just food. We had a real connection. I saw your dreams and you saw me too. How else would you even have known I was in the room? I was gone before Adrienne turned the light on."
It was still vivid for her how she'd felt in her dream that night. She wasn't sure it the dream was what made her shatter the illusions and sit up screaming. She hadn't remembered being afraid before that. "I felt something," she admitted. Damon smiled at her. "How did this happen to you?" 
"That doesn't matter." His voice was hoarse now, he heard it too. "I didn't know how it happened, and didn't ask for it. I woke up like this, and I just felt cold inside," he was talking with his eyes closed, trying to actively block the memory.
"Can I touch you?" She'd broken his concentration. His eyes snapped open.
 "Yeah," he said, his voice shaking a bit. "Sure." He didn't think he'd ever heard anything sexier in his life. 
She walked over and sat on the bed next to him, closer than felt comfortable. She took his hand in both of hers. It felt like he'd just come in from the cold. Oh yes, and she felt what she was looking for. There was something there when their skin touched, a tingle, or maybe it was just the amazing cold against her warmth. The skin was soft but dry, like old worn leather. "You're so cold," she breathed, finally beginning to believe. But he'd already known that, and his eyes were apologizing.
"You're so warm," he said, smiling. 
When she kissed him, his lips were as cold, too.
After they separated, neither of them knew what to say. Damon realized he could do anything he wanted to her. 
"What about your family?" Luna asked.
Damon shrugged, wished he could kiss her again. "Haven't seen or heard of them since. It's probably better that they think I'm dead. I'm sure they wouldn't want to see me like this," he absentmindedly put his hand on his back pocket, but then took it away. She didn't want to see what his mom looked like. 
Luna nodded in agreement. "I can understand that."
"So, you like art?" Damon asked, lightening his tone of voice and trying to change the subject. He pointed to the prints on the walls. He recognized the Campbell's soup cans, but there was another of a dark skinned woman with a uni-brow and a mustache that he'd never seen before in his life. 
"Yeah, I went to school for a while but that didn't work out."
Damon laughed. "I know all about that. It took me four years and a fifty thousand dollar business degree to make me realize that I wanted to produce records. Then this happens and now I'm not anything."
Damon looked up at Luna's bedroom door when he heard the front door open and close. He stood up. "I guess that's it."
"Why? What's the matter?" She stood up too.
"Adrienne's home," he said and crawled over the bed towards the window.
"I didn't hear anything."
Damon paused and looked at her as if she should've known better. "Vampire," he said with so much conviction that Luna had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Damon opened the window.
"Does she know about you?" Luna asked. It would explain why Adrienne wouldn't want her to see him, but not why Adrienne would've brought him home.
Damon narrowed his eyebrows. "No. I don't go around just letting everyone know. I don't like yell it out the car window, Luna."
"Okay, okay," she said, laughing, and pushed him towards the window. "Go."
Damon turned around and paused. "You're the only one I've told. And Luna, you can't talk about this to anyone, at all, under any circumstances. Don't even mention my name." 
"Your name? What is your name?" She knelt on the bed.
"You know my name," he said, putting one leg through and squeezing out onto the fire escape.
"No, your name," she said. "Your God-given name, Damon, your full name." She managed to grab his arm before he pulled away, and he stopped to look at her. Instead of answering, he kissed her. Luna couldn't get enough of those cold lips that never seemed to warm. "When will I see you again?" 
"Don't tell Adrienne a word about what I told you tonight." He said, crouching down next to her.
"I won't, I won't," she said, and she wanted to cry because she was afraid he would leave forever and she had many more questions to ask.
Damon nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Late tomorrow. When you get off of work." 
Luna nodded. "Okay."
Damon kissed her on the forehead. "Stay out of trouble." Then he was gone, jumping, to Luna's amazement, off of the balcony and landing on his feet, three stories down. He didn't turn to wave, just disappeared into a dark alley like a shadow gliding along the sidewalk. She was locking the window when she heard a knock on the door. 
 It was Adrienne, smiling. "Hey, sweetie. I brought home some ice cream."

Some Hooker. Kris's Lies.

The still nameless dog greeted Damon at the door. "Michael," Damon called. He heard glass clinking together in the other room.
Michael stuck his head out. "Yes?"
"I met a girl." Damon said.
"You didn't just meet her." Michael rolled his eyes. Damon followed him. There was the naked body of a blonde haired woman on the floor of Michael's bedroom. All her parts were still attached, but he couldn't tell what color her skin had been. The wounds puckered where Michael had cut the skin and it was red, half dry, a rusty color that reminded Damon of this beat up old car that was on the corner of their land, the one his dad had been working on the same year of the accident, when he'd died a week before Damon was born. The memory slapped Damon across the face and he swallowed before he could speak. "Hungry?" Michael asked. There were a few empty blood stained wine goblets on his dresser and a milk bottle full of blood. 
"What happened?" Damon asked forgetting about Luna for a moment, thinking of his first feeding, and how he'd never thought Michael would be capable of such a crime scene.
Michael shrugged. "Some hooker."
 "Michael, I have a question to ask you that's been bugging me," Damon said. It had been bothering him since he'd decided on the spur of the moment that he'd see Luna again. It might be important someday. Michael turned to him. "When you become a vampire, do you lose the use of your, uh, member?" He'd never talked about anything remotely like it with another guy before. But what Lilith may have been just trying to be manipulative when she told him he'd lose it. He didn't know how else to say it, and didn't have anyone else to ask.
Michael looked embarrassed too. "Well, yeah. They say it's the blood lust, but really once you cross over, you don't even notice."
Damon didn't know how to put what his next question. He couldn't meet Michael's eyes so he focused on a dust ball on the scuffed hardwood floor. "What would you say if I told you that I still notice because it still works?"
Michael paused for a moment. "Really?" He looked at Damon, tried to meet his eyes to see if he was lying, but Damon kept his eyes on the same spot on the floor.
He nodded. "Yeah." 
Michael slapped him on the shoulder and looked like he wanted to shake his hand and give him an award or something. "That's awesome, dude."
 "Do you think there's anything I should worry about? I mean, I know Lilith was put off by it, so I don't think any vampire woman would be into it. What about human women? Would it hurt them? And Michael, does that mean I could get her pregnant?"
Michael just shook his head, shrugged. He was at a loss.  "I really don't know, Damon. But that's an interesting question." 
No answers. He'd just have to see what happened. He was crazy thinking of being with a human again. "What are you going to do with that?" Damon asked, indicating with his chin the fresh victim on the floor. He didn't know the procedure of disposing of a dead body in the middle of a city. He had to turn his face from the blood on the floor.  He could feel the hunger beneath everything, but he'd been practiced in controlling himself.
"You think the dog will eat it?" Michael asked, and Damon narrowed his eyes. "Not like that," Michael said. "Maybe if I chop it up, he won't know the difference." He picked up a glass from his dresser that was still half full.
"You're not feeding that to my dog." Damon walked out into the living room, remembering that the dog needed to be fed. Dog food. "What I was trying to say when I walked in was that I really like this girl." Michael didn't reply. "For the first time in my life, I had an actual connection with somebody." Damon said, and bent next to the couch to get the bag of dog food. A natural connection, not one made purely of fear. 
"Oh? And that's a good thing?" Michael was leaning against the doorframe of his room with his arms crossed.
Damon grinned. "It's just different." He poured the dog food into an old green Tupperware bowl he'd found on the street. The dog with no name bum-rushed the bowl. 
"So, you're in love with a human," Michael said. "Doesn't that seem like a problem to you?"
He hadn't said the L word. And no, it hadn't seemed like a problem. Not a big one. "Why?"
"How can you have a relationship when she doesn't know what you are? Interspecies relationships don't work." Michael said, obviously doing his best to spell everything out. 
Damon grinned. "It's already taken care of." She'd kissed him, which was the last thing he would've expected. But, he'd wanted it.
Michael let go of the glass in his hand and it shattered on the floor. Damon wasn't sure if it was on purpose or for dramatic effect, but he jumped a bit at the sound. "Don't walk there without shoes on," Michael said. He put his finger to his lips as if he was restraining himself. Then he took a deep breath. "Do you have any idea what Lucas's reaction will be?"
"I've seen humans in clubs and stuff who know." Damon shrugged and put the dog food back. "We'll get her one of those tattoos that only we can see or something. Then they'll know she's protected."
"Do me a favor," Michael said loudly, and Damon recognized the anger. He turned around to see if Michael was really serious. "Don't you ever do anything like that again without talking to me first. And don't you dare tell Lucas unless you want to ruin all chances of this girl seeing Monday." His voice was practically a yell, and Damon was too surprised to speak. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you got this girl into? If Lucas finds out she'll be harvested, Damon. Don't you see what he does? He talks about liquidation but only because he wants it all for himself."
Damon shook his head. "Not Lucas." 
"Of course he wouldn't tell people that. It undermines everything he preaches against Lilith, his antichrist." Michael walked into the bedroom and started to pick up the dead woman. Damon sat on the couch. He still didn't think Michael was right on that one. Lucas just wanted things to remain the same. Michael returned with the body of the dead woman thrown over his shoulder. "I'll take the dog out. Where's his leash?"
Damon shrugged. "I don't use a leash. I just sort of hold onto him with my mind."
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
"No," Damon said, laughing. He threw Michael the dog's leash from where it was, on the floor next to the couch.
"Cute," Michael said sarcastically, although he was grinning.  "You just watch that little girl of yours. And don't come crying to me to sort it all out."

When Luna came into work the next night her boss, Lou, who's like a big hairy bear who weighs a slim 300 pounds, gave her a hug and succeeded in cutting off her air flow. "Are you okay?" He asked her.
"Yeah I'm feeling better," she said despite the fact that when he'd let go of her, she'd suffered a brief bout of dizziness.
"That's good," he said, crossing his arms and looking down at her like she was the daughter he'd never had because he'd never, in his lifetime, been able to consistently avoid having an offensive odor.  "If you feel sick and you need to leave then just let me know, ok?"
Luna nodded. She'd never seen the huge ogre as anything but direct and to the point. Last night had been the first time she'd ever called in sick. While picking up an order she had a moment alone with the cook, Renee the Rastafarian, as she considered him in her mind, she leaned over and asked, "Why does Lou think I'm on the brink of death?" 
 "A friend of yours came by and told us about your accident this weekend," he said in a low voice. "Are you doing okay, girl? He said the car you were riding in was totaled and the other driver was killed."
Luna's mouth dropped open. "Who was it that told you this?"
"Some guy with spiky hair, blue eyes I think." He put his hand on her shoulder. "If you're still not feeling up to it, let me know. I can cover for you."
She'd completely forgotten about Kris after Damon had shown up. She'd been distracted all day, trying to do her best to contain the huge secret when she wanted to tell everyone she passed on the street to run, freak out, leave town, didn't they know they were real? Not that Damon had been a monster. For all she knew, they were all nice guys, and they couldn't help it if they needed to eat, right? 
Why would Kris make up such an elaborate lie for her? Luna walked up to the front and grabbed her little notebook from the cubby hole next to the register when, just like magic, the door opened and Mr. Blue eyes himself walked in. Luna looked up when the door opened, she didn't know why, just a reflex, and he was there with his distressed jeans that were worn in before he'd even bought them and a t-shirt so expensive that she didn't even recognize the designer. Maybe it was all in her head, but Kris was some rich boy and he had his eye on her. Their eyes met and he smiled. It was like he'd planned it. He'd known where she'd be standing, probably had been watching her through the window. When had her life begun to feel like a movie?
"What are you doing here?" Kris said loudly, drawing everyone's attention. She could literally feel everyone's heads swing around, even Renee and Lou, and her heart almost stopped beating. "You know the doctor told you that you couldn't return to work yet." He said it in such a dramatic overacted way without ever losing eye contact with her, that she almost started laughing in spite of the odd scene that she didn't understand at all. "What are we going to do with you? You'll run yourself into the ground."
Lou threw his hands up and turned to her. "You're still on bed rest? What are you doing at work? Go home right now," he said, doing his best to hush his voice since some customers were still staring. 
Luna knew it'd be a struggle to keep a straight face while she protested, but before she could say anything, Kris had walked over to the register where Lou and Luna were standing. "Luna I know you can't afford to take the time off but you can't sacrifice your health for money," he said, this time lower. His eyes never held amusement. They seemed to house genuine concern. And for some reason, it was hilarious to her. 
Lou looked grief stricken as if he were some kind of slave driver. Which really, he wasn't, just the kind of boss that expected one hundred percent because he put in the same amount. He owned the place and it was his baby. "Luna, I had no idea that you were so tight on money. Look, go home and relax. I'll take you off the schedule for tomorrow, too. And don't you worry about money. I'll make sure you still get paid. You've earned sick time by now." 
Luna finally let the smile break. She didn't know what to think. Lou had never seemed like any kind of understanding or generous boss. In fact, what he usually did was grunt all the time and keep to himself. "Thanks Lou, I really appreciate this." She wanted to hug him but thought that he'd just blush and it would make him feel worse.
"You know you're my best employee, Luna. You wouldn't take time off unless you really needed it. Thank you," he said turning to Kris, and putting his big meaty hand on Kris's shoulder. "For bringing this to my attention."
Kris nodded and said, "No problem. Just watching out for our girl."
Luna got red and looked away trying to hide her smiling. She untied her apron. She wasn't sure how Kris had just managed to get her two days off paid without her having to take responsibility of telling some elaborate story, but she couldn't complain. That was the kind of guy she needed. 
Kris took her arm on the way outside and the first thing she noticed was that his hand was cold like Damon's had been. She was able to discount it because he'd just come in from the cold but she knew she had to watch him, she had to watch everyone. Couldn't she ever meet a normal guy? 
"Thanks for that," she said, as they stopped at a crosswalk. She couldn't help but feel in a great mood. The most lighthearted she'd felt all day. She really did need to stop being so paranoid. She couldn't stop living her life just because she was afraid. "That was amazing. Lou's never been that nice to me. It's the most he's ever talked to me since the day I was hired there." 
"No problem. Anytime." He looked even better than she remembered. His clothes were clean and wrinkle free, and he looked like a model from Vogue. His cologne smelled great. She could like him. She tried to remember what Damon had smelled like, but she couldn't. "So, I was in the mood for coffee, but I just thought it'd be better if you joined me rather than served me. " 
Her smiled spread wider. He was charming, she had to admit. Were vampires charming? Did they drink coffee? Was she going to have this paranoia every time she met a new guy? "Ok, well, where do you want to go?" She asked, thinking in the back of her mind that Damon would be angry if he found out.
Kris shrugged and Luna couldn't help but notice that his teeth were very white. She couldn't quite catch if he had long incisors like Damon. "I figured that since you were the, what was it, coffee after the movie kind of girl, that you'd know where the best coffee in the city was."
"Best coffee in the city? That's a lot of pressure." Luna said, and she mentally noted that she was flirting. She wondered if it was a date, and if it was considered cheating on Damon. Did he really count? He was dead. She grabbed Kris's arm and crossed the street towards her favorite coffee place. 
"That's me, only the best. I have very high standards," he said, "And I don't like being disappointed."
"I don't think you will be," she said, turning her head and bit and glancing at him. "The coffee may not be best but the company is pretty decent." She grinned and he laughed. Please Lord, grant protection. She really liked this guy. Remembering some old vampire legend she'd heard about somewhere, Luna couldn't believe that she'd left her tiny gold cross on the bathroom sink.
"So, what really happened last night?" Kris asked. "I think I've earned an answer." 
 Luna let go of his arm self-consciously, and grasped for a good lie. "I just blew off work to hang out with some friends that came into town. I'm sorry there wasn't a way for me to tell you. I completely forgot that you were going to come by."
He shrugged. "It's alright. I knew you weren't blowing me off. Well, I was pretty sure anyway, that it was the work you were blowing off and not me."
Luna laughed but noticed that a moment later, something odd happened. As they passed a man in an expensive looking suit holding a briefcase, she noticed that both Kris and the businessman caught each other's eyes and held them. There was no other acknowledgement between them, but it was an odd moment of recognition that was more than just a coincidence. Her heartbeat quickened but she didn't want to seem like she noticed anything unusual. There was something off about Kris, something dangerous about him that she wished she'd seen when she'd met him in the alley. But then again, she didn't know about the underground city that existed around her. She knew she'd made the wrong decision. Changes were increasing that Kris was either dead or in the mafia, decreasing that he's just some great, good looking, rich guy that was falling in love with her.
"So, how long have you lived in the city?" Luna asked him, trying to think of some normal conversation.
Kris shrugged. "I don't know. For as long as I can remember." His answer didn't make her feel any better.
They'd arrived at ROSIE'S, right across the street from Luna's apartment. She had a brief instinct to run, but knew it wouldn't have been a good idea.  Kris already knew where she worked. Again, she rationalized that she was just paranoid about what Damon had told her and maybe she was just reading into things too hard.  "This is it," Luna said, trying her best to sound lighthearted.
Kris paused on the sidewalk and shrugged. "Alright."
Luna ordered a cappuccino with skim milk and whipped cream. Kris ordered the same and then cut her off in front of the register. Gentleman. They found a secluded booth near the back and sat down. "I like this place," Kris said, looking around at the table which had inlaid mosaic designs, waterfalls, rainbows, cutesy little patterns that made this place unique. There was a case on their table with real lilies.  "Nice music." It was some light jazz that played in any bookstore of coffee house Luna had ever been to. Kris placed the coffee at the edge of the table as if trying to keep it from interrupting the conversation, while Luna had her hands cupped around hers for the warmth.
"If you didn't like coffee then why did you order it?" Luna asked, noticing that at that moment Kris looked like he was asking himself why he'd agreed to go there. She tended to notice the look of regret on people's faces, hated that she could do it so well.
Kris leaned forward onto the table. "In case you didn't notice, on the way in there's a sign that says one drink minimum. The last thing I wanted was to get you kicked out of this place." 
Luna laughed. What was happening to her? She knew he was turning up the charm full force, but she couldn't help herself. "I appreciate the concern. I guess those of us who come in to actually get coffee don't pick up on the subtle details."
"You know I just wanted to pretend for a little while," he continued with that big white smile, "Get a feel for the place."
"It's a good place to come and read, or talk with friends," She said, nodding and taking the room into perspective. The light was dim and intimate, conversation down to a mummer. It was her favorite place, really, when she wanted to just sit. She didn't know why, but when she was alone in her room, it seemed much louder, the thoughts in her head never ceasing. Luna met eyes with woman looking at the two of them, and she turned her head back to the conversation. "So, what do you do for a living?" Luna asked him.
"I own a nightclub. Twilight, actually."
"Oh," Luna said, although she thought he looked too young to own a nightclub. Maybe he had an inheritance, or he came from one of those rich families. "Hence the VIP Passes."
Kris shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a shameless promoter. Even when I just like a girl." 
Luna couldn't help but look to see if the woman was still staring. She was, openly, just glaring at the two of them. "It must be a lot of work."
Kris shrugged again. "It gives me something to do, to keep my mind off of the pressures of 'just talking.'" He made quotation marks with his fingers. 
Luna glanced over, trying not to make it obvious. Yes, she was still staring, probably had not even blinked. She wasn't staring at Luna so much as at Kris. Her look was wide-eyed and scared, like he was yelling at her, except that he wasn't. He was just sitting there with his hands folded neatly in front of him, and he was looking at Luna like he was enraptured.  
"Have you lived in the city long?" He asked, drawing her attention back. Luna thought it was on purpose.
"No, not long. About a year." She didn't want to go into the events that caused her breakdown and the reason why she was having a hard time, still. Luna couldn't concentrate on the conversation. No one else seemed to notice or find it odd that the woman was staring at them. She was a normal looking, about Luna's age, her curly hair parted in the middle and made into two pom poms at the base of her neck. She was beginning to make Luna feel uncomfortable. "Do you know that woman?" Luna finally asked. 
Kris turned to look at the woman whose eyes opened even wider once he turned his attention to her. Kris completely ignored the look and turned right back to Luna without a blink. "I've never seen that woman before in my life," he said loudly with a straight face, which was quite a talent because it was obvious he was lying, when the woman jumped up and scrambled towards the exit with tears running down her cheeks. 
Luna glared at him, had the urge to slap him across the face, and knew it probably wasn't the best place to do it considering they were in public. But when he didn't say anything and just kept the innocent stare, she stood up and walked out of the building without a word. She left the coffee on the table, which, in retrospect would've been a good thing to bring with her, to throw it in Kris's face if he followed her, which he did.
Kris was across the street before she had even reached it, except that she hadn't even realized it because he was so fast, and so quiet. Luna reminded herself why she needed to be careful. She knew that Kris was a completely different natured creature then Damon when he rushed up and nearly pulled her arm out of its socket, right before she could reach the door of her apartment building. His strength frightened her and she wished that she'd never woken up that morning.
"What the hell was that all about?" He demanded, his anger apparent. He started squeezing her arm.
"You're a vampire," she said in a voice that was too loud, even for the busy street. She knew it but she didn't care.
Kris's eyes widened and he pulled her quickly into a dark alley between her building and the convenience store next door, and pushed her up against the wall, standing about three inches from her face. "Who told you that?" he hissed. Luna had never seen anyone so angry before and she knew, right then, that he'd kill her. Sure she was afraid, but did she care? That was the real question. 
"No one told me. I just knew," she said, her voice shaking. He wasn't hurting her but he was so close to her that she couldn't move without touching him. She saw in his face that her answer wasn't good enough. She stuttered, but managed to continue. "I met this guy a while back, and he was a vampire and he told me about you and the signs and I don't know why I can't meet a normal guy in this city," she blurted out. The last part was so genuine that Kris seemed to believe her, although he didn't seem to know what to say to it. "So, I'd like to just be on my way."
Kris didn't move. "I'm going to be honest with you, okay? And you really should be flattered, because I have done this before, but Luna, I really like you. And I don't know what that means because I've never liked a human for anything other than food. I actually talked to you. We had a fucking moment, Luna. Can't you appreciate that?" Luna knew where it was going and she started shaking her head. One vampire boyfriend was enough. And no, they hadn't had a moment. They'd had a flirtation. She knew the difference now after Damon because she'd actually felt something for him that was deeper than just attraction. "You can live forever, Luna. I can change everything," he said, whispering in her ear, and it felt like a soft wind. 
"Leave me alone," she said, her voice shook even more and it came out barely above a whisper.
"What if you don't have a choice?" His cold hand placed a firm grip on her shoulder, strong enough to break the bone there if he wanted to, she was sure, and she was praying. Our Father who art in heaven, hollowed be thy name, thy kingdom come. He was taking his time, and he actually licked his lips oh god, monsters really did that, didn't they? Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed are thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. He was smelling her neck, sticking his nose in that good part that always made her tickle, Our Father, except that this time she couldn't breath and although she felt the tingle in her legs, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, it was all wrong and she wished that Damon was there. His cold fingers gripped her chin and turned it to the side, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour, and she couldn't move, of our death. The pain came next.

 Lilith, the Sister.

When Luna woke up again, she heard the pumping beat of techno music, muffled and far away. She was lying on a white bed in an all white room. It smelled overwhelmingly like bleach. The carpet was the expensive looking white kind she'd seen on TV, on one of those decorating shows, or the kind that showed celebrity homes, and everything looked ultra modern, sleek, sterile. The bed was neatly made, with the softest white linens she'd ever felt. She had a headache, and she kneaded her temples as she sat up. The room was freezing. It wasn't the kind of room she'd be able to take for too long, or else her headache would never go away. Kris was sitting back with his legs crossed in a stainless steel chair, staring at her, like she was a work of art. 
"You are so beautiful," he said.
Luna had never heard someone sound so in love, and she'd never felt so dirty in her life. She didn't say anything back, just did her best to ignore the comment, but when she tried to get up she realized that her ankle was cuffed to the bedpost on a short thick chain and padlock with a key. Oh God, he's going to torture me first. She tugged it instinctively, but it wouldn't budge. "Why would you lock me up?" She asked him.
"So you can't run," Kris said. She found the control in his voice maddening.
"Why would I run?" She was trying to sound casual, copying his tone, but it didn't work too well for her. "You didn't hurt me." She wanted to touch her neck, but didn't. He gave her a smile as if to say just because he hadn't hurt her yet didn't mean he wouldn't in the future.  She paused at that look and blurted out, "Are you going to kill me?"
Kris nodded once. "Yes."
"Why?" She asked, and she wanted to cry but she swallowed and held it back because she knew once that happened she'd never be able to talk to him and it would be too late.
"Well, for one, your heart beat is driving me crazy, I'm surprised the damn thing doesn't implode or something. I mean, how fast can that thing really get before it shorts out?"
Luna's throat clenched. "What are you waiting for then?" She glanced again at the chain. There was no chance to escape. She wondered if Damon was waiting for her. Would he come looking for her when he found her room empty? 
"My sister, Lilith. You won't like her. She's very cruel." Kris grinned at her, and for the first time she saw his long white fangs. If she'd noticed them before, would it have made a difference?
Luna didn't know what else to say. She was going to be food. Her whole body was shaking. "Why me? What did I do to you?" She asked. But she knew. It was because she'd let her guard down, let him in, talked too long, had actually been fooled into thinking that someone like him would want someone like her. Tears formed in her eyes. She'd never had anyone to protect her since her dad had died, and now here she was, she'd messed it all up.
He held her eyes. "Luna, I'm really lonely." The tone seemed to catch him completely off guard, as if he hadn't meant to be as personal as he sounded. Then, he was back to his normal self and Luna wasn't even sure she'd seen it. "And I think it's about fucking time that I had someone, don't you think? How long do you think someone can be on this earth with only one fucking sister who's so mean?"" He trailed off and rested in his chin in his palm. 
That was it then. He wanted to turn her into one of his kind. Her mind flitted to Damon. Well, she could be with him, then hopefully with God, eventually. Who were these monsters to Him? Her stomach dropped. "What if I don't want to be your," she hesitated, "companion?"
Kris shrugged and glanced at the door, as if he were waiting for something to happen that would quiet her so he could end the questioning. Maybe it had been his plan all along. "I'm sure you'll pick me over being locked in a closet for eternity." 
Luna couldn't imagine, much less comprehend, most of the conversation. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm her breathing before she passed out. She lay back down, to calm the dizziness and an instant later, it seemed as if it were before her body even touched the bed, she felt his hand on her waist and he was leaning over her. She opened her eyes and jumped, but was able to hold back a scream. Tears squeezed out of her eyes. Before he could speak there came the sound of heels clicking down a long hallway and they both turned to see a blonde with long curly hair, dressed all in black, standing in the doorway. She looked very rich, very much like Kris's sister, the kind of woman that Luna always hated because they made her feel plain.
She and Kris didn't look alike, but the cold emotionless face told Luna that Kris hadn't lied. His sister was cruel. She stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at the two of them on the bed, and even Kris seemed to feel self conscious, because he sat up and all the laugh lines were gone from his face. 
They were silent until Lilith put her hands on her hips and said, "Are we going to get on with this or what?" She had a black bag folded under her arm, which she pulled out and placed on the stainless steel white top desk. "Is this her?"
Kris stood up. "Yes."
Lilith gave Luna a condescending stare that didn't seem to take much effort, and then she folded open the flap of the black bag. There were various sizes of syringes strapped in, like the kind of kit a diabetic might carry for their insulin. She pulled out the largest syringe but just held it in her hand for a moment. "Why doesn't she just drink it?" Lilith asked her brother. Luna thought Lilith was the most slender woman she'd ever seen. She was graceful too, everything that Luna had always wanted to be. Great, this was the perfect to her life. She'd have to stare at that perfect face for the rest of eternity.
"She'll throw it right back up," Kris said, rolling up his sleeve. Luna saw him wince when Lilith pulled the cover off of the syringe. 
 Lilith noticed too. "Still afraid of needles?"  She seemed slightly amused by that, and she walked over to him, slowly and deliberately, as if she wanted to sustain his nervousness. The way she took his hand was graceful but she tapped the soft inside of his elbow harder than necessary, and instead of looking at his vein when she jabbed the needle in, she looked right at his face. He looked back at her with his teeth gritted and they both looked like savage animals. Lilith pulled back the plunger to fill the syringe with Kris's blood and pulled out the needle. She held it up to the light. Luna still wasn't sure what roll she was to play in the blood letting, but she thought that she'd never want to see blood ever again in her life, and pulled far away from Kris who was rolling back his sleeve and adjusting his shirt. 
Kris glanced at her but with Lilith in the room, he was no longer scary. He was more like a spoiled ten year old boy. "Make sure you tap the needle. If I wanted her dead, I could've eaten her."
"I will not be held liable for air bubbles." Lilith snapped back, but she tapped the needle a few times anyway with long gold painted fingernails. She met Luna's eyes. "I'm not a fucking nurse." Even though she knew it was useless, Luna moved across the bed until the chain was taut. She wasn't even near the edge, the bed was that big. How had she ever wanted one of these? Lilith paused, needle raised and one eyebrow up, neat trick, then turned back to Kris. "She's not doing this voluntarily."
Kris shrugged again. "It wasn't a problem for you." Asshole shrugged about everything, couldn't he make up his God forsaken mind? Luna hoped for a split second that Lilith would make him let her go. 
Lilith crossed her arms. The tip of the needle was so thin that Luna couldn't even see it. She was crying silently now, too afraid to move, and she was convinced that she'd die of fear before they could even get to her. "I also didn't opt for the extended transformation plan, either." 
"I want her to worship me," he said, and he was across the room. Luna hadn't even noticed him move but when she looked, he'd had taken off his shirt and was looking through his wardrobe, a huge metal locker. He pulled a shiny burgundy shirt off a hanger. "I want her completely." He turned. "I want to savor this." Luna was busy trying to break eye contact with Kris when Lilith took her wrist in her hands. Once she felt Lilith's cold fingers, Luna was too afraid to even attempt to pull it away. It was too late. Lilith tapped the soft part of her arm a few times to get a raised vein. It felt like a slap, and her arm got bright red. "Besides," Kris added, "I don't want all those problems you had."
Lilith just continued frowning. "In a few minutes, she'll be all over you." She pierced Luna's skin with the pink tip of the needle. "She'll do whatever you want her to." It started with a prick and once the blood was injected, it quickly burned in her veins. She felt her mouth fall open and all she could do was lay back on the bed. Is that what it felt like to shoot up? Kris leaned over her but it was just to unlock the chains, and she felt the weight gone from her ankle. The fire was in her shoulder when Lilith pulled out the needle. "She'll even suck your dick." Kris's head whipped up but Lilith just shrugged. Luna could feel his rage and his restraint; she didn't know how she could know it just by looking up at the both of them through her half closed eyes.
Lilith didn't care. She just slapped the empty syringe into Kris's hand and left the room without another word. Luna watched all of this, heard her walk away, and could still smell her once she'd left her sight. Then burning had her attention, and although everyone kept on as if nothing were out of the ordinary, Luna was on the bed, praying God please don't let this kill me.  She didn't want to be an evil monster. Would Satan come now to tempt her?
 Luna's muscles seized up and when she tried to raise her legs to the fetal position, she lost balance and fell on the floor. She felt like she couldn't breathe, but she needed to get outside. The door was right in front of her. She gripped at the white carpet, pulled herself but it was like she was underwater and her body was one big dead weight. The tingling had reached her toes, and was at the same time approaching her head. Then death. As I walk through the valley, in the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. 
She was afraid that he'd hurt her when she was the most vulnerable she'd ever felt in her life. She was on the brink of eternal damnation. Luna fell into the blackness but when no pain came, she opened her eyes to see Kris was looking down at her with a little smile as if he found it all funny. She knew she must've looked pathetic, lying on the floor pleading at him with her eyes and her entire body drenched in sweat. The burning was gone though, and she was still breathing, and she didn't feel deceased. 
"Get up," he said.
Luna shook her head. "I can't," she whispered. She wondered if it were possible to feel one's own death approaching. 
"Get up," he said repeated. Something about his facial expression told her that he was serious and that she'd better at least try. 
Luna sat up and felt that her head was not as dizzy, so she tried her legs and felt that she could walk easily. After the initial shock of the blood to her system, she felt like she'd slept for a week, she wasn't tired anymore, her bones didn't hurt.
Kris looked her up and down for a moment like he wanted to just eat her, but he turned away. Luna felt disappointed when he turned his attention away, and she wanted to smack herself. "Go home," he said, suddenly sounding disgusted. He threw a piece of clothing at her, which she realized was her jacket. Luna couldn't move. She didn't even know where she was. She tried to get angry but found that she couldn't. All she felt was sadness, and emptiness more complete than she'd ever felt. Why would he bring her there and then plan on forgetting about her as soon as he was finished? And was he finished? She was still alive, at least she thought so, she didn't feel any of the things that Damon had talked about.
"I can't." Luna wanted to cry gain, she was so scared. "I need your help," She said.
Kris walked back to his closet. "Go home."
 "I don't know how." 
 "Look, sweetie," He said, as if he were talking as if he was trying to brush her off gently after a one night stand. He put on a jacket half a shade darker than his shirt. He still looked like a man Luna would've loved to show off, God help her. "I've got to get going. I have lot of work to do tonight." He paused and looked at her face for a moment. Was that pity she saw? "I'll walk you out." 
 Luna put her jacket on and followed Kris down a dimly lit hallway. They walked into a quiet lounge with pale blue walls and carpet where small groups of people were sitting and chatting like they weren't surrounded by monsters, and then out of a heavy curtain and into a night club. Luna paused, trying to take it all in. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. She let Kris out of her sight, and just inhaled the smoke, felt the beating of the music on her skin, and saw, but not quite saw, people dancing. There was a lot of red, and the lights made it look slick, deep and thick, and Luna could feel that tingle between her legs. Something had happened to her.
 A man with a bald head and a tribal tattoo on his forehead grabbed her shoulders, trying to draw her into the crowd. Luna turned her head, eyes searching for Kris in the crowd where he'd disappeared, please God, no, don't let them take her, but by the time she could turn back to the tattooed man, hands were gone and Kris had already come in between, pulling Luna behind him and the bigger man onto the floor. 
Luna braced herself for a fight, closing her eyes and grabbing the sides of Kris's jacket, trying to make herself small behind his back, but the tattooed man didn't move from the ground. Actually, for a moment it seemed that neither moved, the man sat there with a look of surprise on his face, and Kris paused with his hand still out, as if he were challenging. Then Kris whipped around and she found him on the other side of her, smoothing out the wrinkles she'd made in his jacket. This time he put his arm around her and walked her through the crowd. She couldn't see where he was leading her, but she didn't want to see anything anymore, so she just hid her face in his shoulder and breathed in his cologne again and again. 
 "Go straight home," Kris began once they'd emerged into the coolness of a dark alley. It wasn't any better out there. She still had no idea where she was. Kris reached into his pocket and pulling out a cell phone, pushing buttons as he spoke, "Don't talk to anyone and make sure that you're not being followed. If you are, call me. My number is the only one in this phone and it had better stay that way." He handed it to her. "I'll come for you."
Luna swallowed, trying to get the lump out of her throat.  She was proud at herself for not crying. She took the phone from him but didn't move. "I'm scared," she said.
Kris came up close to her again, and cupped her face and for some reason she felt comforted. That's what she'd needed to feel okay. "Don't be afraid," he said, talking softly to her, and she had a feeling it was more to keep anyone from overhearing than anything else. "You won't be in any pain, and in a few hours you'll be back normal." He kissed her forehead. His lips were cold like Damon's but the wetness clung to her skin and she didn't want to leave him. "You have me in your life now. There's no reason to feel fear. Go home and get some sleep."  He started to turn away then remembered something and reached into his pocket. "Take a cab," he said and handed her a wad of money, "The streets are dangerous at night."

Luna woke up with a headache, starving. Her thoughts first went back to the night before. She had a panicky feeling in her belly but at least Kris didn't know where she lived, and according to Damon, he wouldn't be able to enter her apartment unless he was invited, which Luna would never do. She should be safe that night because she had the night off, so she had time to try and figure out a plan of action. She didn't know if she wanted to get Damon involved. Could he help her? Would Kris and his sister hurt Damon? She had no idea how long she had before he tried to kill her. 
It was early in the evening as usual, she'd been sleeping all of her days away, but she was getting used to it. First thing was food, and Luna made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. After she'd eaten it, she was still hungry. So, she ate another as she looked up vampires on the web to try and find information as to why she hadn't known the most essential thing about vampire folklore, which was: that they were real. Luna had no trouble finding sites about vampires, but most of them were about mythology and folklore, and others about so-called real vampires. The problem was that what she found were people who admitted they were not immortal, but still craved blood, who could see well in the dark, are quick and graceful, by their own accounts and all the other stuff that's attributed to the mythology. Is that what Damon, Kris and Lilith were? She doubted it. The internet claimed that there was nothing supernatural about those beings, that they were just humans who had a blood fetish, but Luna had seen creatures that feed on blood. There was still another group, the psychic vampires who claimed to drink energy from their victims in order to live. Sure, it's easy to claim anything with no proof. Luna tapped her finger on the desk, and just let her eyes lose focus. It was all wrong, Lord please help to solve the mystery. Don't give up Lord, she wasn't learning her lessons yet, but please don't give up trying to teach them, because that's what faith led to. Knowledge.
 There was nothing substantial, nothing even hinting at an underground immortal culture in her city. There was nothing to do but wait for Damon to show up.  Luna hated it, that no one was out there telling the truth, and wondered how hard it was to run a website, if maybe that was something she could do sometime in the future, when she had time to sit and just breathe for a while. 

The First Date. I See Dead People. 

Damon could smell her before he saw her. He sped up until he was right under the fire escape, hoping that she was wearing a skirt but she wasn't. "What's the matter?" He asked, calling up. 
Luna jumped because she hadn't seen or heard him. "Nothing," she said standing up. "I'll let the ladder down. Hold on."
"I got it," he said as he jumped and caught on to pull it down. Luna could hear him scramble up but couldn't see him. "This is how I usually get up here."
"I can see how that's the easiest way," she said, taking the few steps down to the landing right outside of her window.
Damon had such a huge grin on his face that it was hard for her not to smile back. He walked up to her and put his arms around her waist like he was going to kiss her in the way that boys kiss girls in the movies, but then he stopped and moved his mouth to her ear instead. "How about it?" He asked. 
Luna knew right then, hands down, that she loved him. She put her hands on either side of his cold cheeks and kissed his lips. 
 "I came looking for you last night," He said calmly and non-accusatory, although he'd been really pissed having waited for several hours for her to show up and had to go home and spend the night watching TV with Michael and the dog. Seeing her then with those big brown eyes that looked excited to see him, it was hard to be angry.
"I'm so sorry about that, Damon. I really should've left you a note," she said, as she pulled away from his arms, feeling that he'd know if she was lying. "Adrienne talked me into going out with some friends and I didn't have a good excuse to say no. They came up and kidnapped me after work."
Damon couldn't shake the disappointment, but maybe it was because he didn't quite remember what it was like to have friends or a carefree life anymore. He tried not to let his mood darken. "We're going on a date tonight," he said as he took her arm and pulled her close again.
"Where are we going?" She asked with a smile, letting his wrap his arms around her, holding him tight because every meaningful touch seemed so much more important once you're aware of your own mortality. She loved those calm gray eyes, and she liked brushing his long black hair out of his eyes. She rested her head against his shoulder.  
"You eat yet?" He asked. She shook her head. He'd learned his lesson from Adrienne, human girls need to eat. "You like Chinese?"
"I love it," she said, although she had a glimmer of doubt when considering that Damon had meant people instead of food. 
"Let's go," he said, trying to pull her towards the fire escape stairs, but Luna didn't move.
 "This time out the front door, okay?"
Damon grinned and climbed in through the window first.

The restaurant proclaimed "Asian Fusion" on the menu. He'd brought her there for a bit of nostalgia. Passing by it on the way to pick her up had been a feeling of déjà vu, and he could almost see himself escorting a big name musician through the front door followed by an entourage and the flashing lights of photographers. He hoped he wouldn't run into anyone from his production studio, but at this time of evening, it was pretty slim. They'd used the place as a trendy spot to hold lunch meetings. It had good food and a casual atmosphere. He had liked to bring dates there, back when he had them, because they served everything in big bowls and you had to eat with chopsticks, which were a great conversation starter, the whole how can you possibly eat with these things conversation. Damon chose a booth in the back, someplace private where he couldn't be seen by anyone entering. A waiter came over and put some menus on the table.
"So, what's good here?" She asked, still shivering from the cold air outside. 
Damon looked at her and wished he was still in a position to be able to warm her up. "Maybe start out with some hot tea."
Luna shook her head and made a face. "Yuck, I don't like tea. Do they coffee here?"
"No, but try some Chai tea." Damon said, pointing to it on her open menu.
Luna didn't know if she wanted to believe someone who didn't need food to live. "What is that?"
"It's sweet, you put creamer in it like coffee, and it's hot. It'll warm you up. You'll like it. Trust me." Actually, he had no idea if she'd like it, but it was something he liked and it was the only thing he had to go on. It seemed to work fairly well.
"Ok. I'll try that."
After they'd ordered, and he'd learned that Luna was actually quite proficient at using chopsticks, he was left grasping for straws. Partly it was because he was still fighting back the feeling that conversation was trivial compared to what would probably transpire in a few days once Lilith had regrouped. He'd been given a stay of execution, but he felt that the guillotine still lingered over his head. "So, what did you and your friends end up doing?"
"When?" Luna asked, surprised he'd think of her as someone with a lot of friends. Her mind had drifted back to blue eyed Kris, the madman, the monster, and her potential killer. 
"When you were ambushed by friends after work last night." He knew she'd been lying, but why? Maybe she did have a boyfriend and didn't want to admit it.
"Oh," she said. She'd been caught. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot already. I've just had a lot on my mind, you know? Anyway, we ended up going to this club downtown. I don't even remember what it was called. I had a few drinks. It was pretty uneventful."
"Must've been a little eventful if you stayed out all night. I waited for a while." Until 3:54 a.m. to be exact. He knew he sounded like a jealous lover, but he couldn't help that the thought of her kissing anyone else made him want to put his hand through a wall. Or the guy's face.
It was obvious that Damon knew she was lying but it was too late for her to take it all back. "I just ended up staying at a friend's house. This tea's good by the way."
"Oh," Damon said. "Yeah, I'm glad you like it."
"I'm really sorry," she said, knowing that he was probably tired of hearing it. "I should've left you a note. I feel bad that you were waiting for me."
Damon shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I was just worried about you." 
After the food came, they both seemed to relax in each other's company. Luna had ordered the exact same thing Damon had, a bowl full of chicken lo mien. It smelled great to Damon, but he had absolutely no desire to eat it, couldn't even bring himself to pick up the chopsticks. 
"This is great," Luna said, after she had taken a bite, "You have excellent taste, Mr. Damon." It was a habit she'd gotten into calling people ever since working as a preschool aide after high school. The teachers went around calling themselves Miss Daniella, and Mr. Frances, and Miss Penelope. She felt embarrassed as soon as she'd said it, but it made her remember the question Damon had shrugged off the night before. She'd wanted to know his name to validate something for her, to have some kind of human aspect, to grasp his transformation. Now things were different in the world, some vital shift had occurred in her perception. She understood the human aspect all too well, but she was curious and he was something special to her, something owning completely to her. "You never did tell me your full name," her eyebrows raised over her chopsticks.
"Why do you care?" Damon asked. Didn't want to think about his family or what they did with all his stuff after they'd realized that he was gone and never coming back.
Luna shrugged. What could it hurt? "I don't know. It just seems like something you should know about a person before things get too serious, don't you think? Haven't you always known your friends last names? And all the girls you've ever gone out with?"
Damon considered this. It did seem like he'd always just known things like that without having to come out and say ask. "You say all the girls like you think I'm so popular with the ladies."
Luna put the tea cup down with a loud clink and laughed. "Damon, what I don't know about you could fill a warehouse."
Damon smiled at her, and picked up his chopsticks. He'd had a pair back home, that's how much he'd loved Chinese when he was alive.  He thought for a moment that he didn't even remember his name, but it was more that he just hadn't thought about it for a while, and he did know it. He shrugged. "Five girls. That's all I've been with."
Luna felt her face get red. One, that was her grand total. "That's not what I wanted to know. That's none of my business."
"But my full birth name, that's not too personal." 
"It's not like I asked you your social security number." Luna put her chopsticks down and stopped eating all together. "Why do you keep avoiding the question?"
He took a deep breath. Here it fucking came, straight from his mouth with no time to process it. "Damon Everett Stevens. Nice to meet you," he said and couldn't even look her in the eyes.
"I like it," she said, and picked up her chopsticks again. 
"Well?" He asked her a moment later. He felt like a weight had been lifted and he didn't know why. What had he expected her to do when he told her, insist on meeting his family?
"Well, what?" She looked at him with a piece of chicken halfway to her mouth.
"Full name. Let's hear it." He did his best to regain his lighthearted attitude because, he wouldn't trade the time he was having with her for anything in the world, especially since Lucas would be getting back to him, and he might never have it again.
"Luna Abigail Scott." She seemed proud of it, or maybe just glad that he'd lost the attitude.
"Luna Abigail Scott," He repeated, wanting to remember. "It's pretty."
"Why thank you, Mr. Stevens," she said and took another sip of her tea. "Do you want to know what it means?"
"What? Your name?" Damon asked, putting the chopsticks back down, pushing the take out memories with Giselle sitting on the floor in front of the TV, sharing a joint or sometimes a needle. Crazy. He'd been lucky that hadn't killed him. But he'd never thought of Giselle as someone who'd cheat. Just someone who was a junky half the time, and so didn't always know better.
"Yeah, Luna. The translation in Spanish means moon." It was a fact that her mom had told her. "When my mom was pregnant with me she was having a conversation with one of the patrons of the museum she runs, and he was explaining to her the translations of these ancient engravings from Spain and he would tell her and she'd repeat it back to him. So he said, 'La Luna Bella,' which means the beautiful moon, and when my mom repeated it back I kicked in her belly, and it was the first time, and the name stuck with her. And she would call me that when I was in her stomach, she'd call me Luna Bella."
"I love that," Damon said, and he was looking right in her eyes. "I love that you have a story." He looked away from her once his mind had drifted to think of any stories that stuck out from his life, anything interesting about names. Just when he thought he was practiced in not thinking, he needed to draw his attention back to Luna before he dredged up something he'd rather stay forgotten. "Does she still call you that?"
Luna shook her head. "No, I think I did away with that when I was a teenager, you know how it is, everything compromises your coolness, you know?" She looked sad then but Damon couldn't get over the thought that he'd had. 
"What a unique name. Jesus Christ, what are the odds?"
"Could you not say that?" Luna asked, not following his train of thought. "I don't like it when people take the Lord's name is vain."
Damon hesitated. "I'm sorry, Luna. Excuse me. It's just I realize what a coincidence that we should meet each other, I mean look at who I am, this jack ass who can't even go out in the daylight and I meet a girl named after the moon. I mean, the one element of this universe that offers protection to us and you're named after it. I love the moon." He laughed. "Do you know how to say 'sun' in Spanish?"
Luna shook her head and half expected a joke. "No, why?"
"I just thought I should know in case I ever meet a girl named after it. Then I would know to run." He felt giddy. Things were coming together. He wondered if the Spanish translation of the word 'sun' sounded anything like Lilith.
After the food was gone and the check was on the table, Luna hugged herself. "I'm so warm and cozy I don't even feel like moving."
Damon didn't feel a difference between inside and outside anymore. "I didn't really know what you wanted to do afterwards. I figured I'd let you decide."
Luna knew that her previous dating excursions were no longer options. Movies were uninteresting now, and a waste of time. Bowling was too odd, and well, she couldn't see herself taking a long walk on the beach with Damon. "I need to talk to you about something."
"Yeah?" He swallowed. "What do you need to talk to me about?" 
"I think we should to back to my place so we can have some privacy," she said, automatically lowering her voice and adding even more weight to her words. She hadn't done it on purpose, but she knew it's what she'd done.
Damon nodded, hoping that she wouldn't have any bad news, but not minding the thought of being alone with her in private for the evening. "Is the coast clear?" He asked, picking up the bill from the table. Luna reached into her purse. "No, I got it," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I just wanted to make sure that your roommate wasn't home."
"She was supposed to stop by and change clothes but she was heading to her Mom's house tonight. The train should be leaving right about now. You guys have money?"  She asked in a low tone, and then wanted to take it back when Damon pulled out a wad as big as the one Kris had given her.
Damon gave her a sideways smile as he stood up to walk to the cash register and put a few dollars on the table. "More then you'll ever know. I'll meet you by the door."

When they got to the apartment, Damon was the first to notice that the front door was slightly open. 
"Wait here," He said as he passed by her and pushed the door open. There were no heartbeats in the apartment, but that didn't mean that there weren't any of his kind there. He could smell it as soon as he walked in, there had been blood spilled. His first thought was of Adrienne, and he was right. He found spots of blood in the carpet and followed them to the sink in Adrienne's bathroom. Damon turned the knob and let the water wash it away. Some vampire had been there, had attacked Adrienne, but where was she? The hospital? Not likely, she probably wouldn't remember. It had to be that way, or else everyone would know about vampires. There was something about the process, about putting them to sleep, or some kind of chemical in their saliva that made humans forget. So, she'd think that, what? She'd gotten her period and dripped it along the floor? There was nothing else out of the ordinary so he closed the door behind him. Adrienne must've stumbled out realizing that she was late, and been too disoriented or distracted to close the door right. It wasn't until he checked Luna's room that he knew something wasn't right. He went outside to Luna with some questions on his mind, and she was leaning against the wall looking pale and nearly deceased. It scared him. "It's all clear. But someone was in your room."
Luna pushed past him, knowing that she'd been wrong, Kris could find out where she lived and he had. Maybe Adrienne had invited him in. Luna found that her dresser drawers were open and there were clothes had been pulled about, things were knocked over on her desk and her papers were rifled through. The tears came then, and she couldn't hold them back, just sat on the bed, the intense sobbing that shook her whole body and it was so sad that it was so familiar. 
Damon went over and sat down next to her and put his arm around her because he could tell that she was shaking, and he didn't know what was going on, but he was obviously missing something in the equation. He didn't know what to say, where to start figuring things out. "Don't be scared," he whispered and began kissing her neck. It was insensitive, but he was starving and she smelled so good, like strawberry shampoo. 
"I wonder what they were looking for?" Luna asked, more with the intention to distract him because just the thought of him piercing the skin on her neck made her sick to her stomach. Yes, she knew what he was, but just looking at him, it was easy to pretend he wasn't.
Damon stood up and went through the dresser drawers, tucking the clothes back in. "Did you have a journal or something? Important papers?"
Luna started picking things off the floor. "No, I don't have anything important."
"Anything missing?" He asked, as he closed the last drawer.
Luna shook her head, putting the last thing back on the shelf. It hadn't been as much of a mess as she thought. It was more the idea that Kris had been going through her stuff, must've tricked Adrienne into letting him in, maybe hid while she left. "No, I don't think so. Nothing broken either." Kris had been looking for her already. 
Damon's eyes rose to the mirror above the dresser. He had no reflection in it. Tucked in the mirror was the postcard of the painting of him, this was the closest he'd get to a reflection, being able to see himself as a monster, some predator who'd snuck into someone's bedroom. That was what she looked at everyday. Damon took the picture and crumpled the stiff paper in his hand. "I've got to leave for a little bit," he said as he put it in his pocket.
"Why?" Luna's head snapped over to him. Did he know about Kris?
 "I need to eat too," he said, looking away.
"Oh," Luna said, and her heart started beating fast again. She wanted to ask him to stay, but she couldn't ask him for that.
 "I know you're probably scared, but I'll be back in an hour or two."  He had both hands in his pockets now and was fingering the paper there, telling himself to hold on because he could control the monster part. "Just keep the windows locked, and don't answer the door unless it's me. This was probably just a break in, Luna. I don't think they'll be back."
Luna nodded but her stomach still told her it was Kris. She thought about his strength, how he could easily do anything he wanted with her. Lord, please watch over the apartment, take care of the people there. "Maybe I could come with you? Wait outside?"
Damon shook his head. "That's not an option, Luna. Just stay here."
Luna let the tears slide down her cheeks. "Can't you just wait a little while?"
Damon clenched his fists. "I don't think you want to be the one with me when I finally lose my self control." He didn't know how he'd lasted so long.
It made Luna realize how much Damon suffered just being around her. It was like waving a steak in front of a starving man. "Go," she said, lowering her eyes, "I'll wait."
Damon headed for the window.
"You can use the door," she said, and felt bad because it was the second time she'd corrected him.
"Oh," Damon said and climbed off of the bed. He seemed disoriented and Luna felt bad and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. She couldn't pick his smell, not cologne or anything, but something more natural. His shirt rode up in the back and she put her hands under it, felt the cold skin there. It didn't feel anything like a dead body she was touching, it just felt like he'd come in from the cold. Luna felt an overwhelming urge to warm him up. 
Luna could tell that Damon was taking care to ignore her neck and focus on her lips. She could feel his fangs on her tongue and she pressed her body up against his. The cold hands felt interesting on her skin. A part of her was frightened but excited when he kissed her neck. It took all of his willpower to pull away, but when Luna felt his head move, she pulled him back.
"I've got to go right now," he said, his voice was hoarse, he could hear it, but there was nothing he could do, just closed his eyes, his fists clenched against her back and holding on to the top flap of her jeans.
"Stay," she whispered, and held his head there, against her neck. It was strange not to feel a rise and fall to his chest but she tried to ignore it, and not think about anything. 
Damon's fangs lengthened and he pressed them up against her neck, pausing, and giving her one last chance to change her mind. Luna took a sharp intake of breath but didn't say anything, and didn't stop him when his teeth pierced her skin. Her body tensed up but she just pressed tighter up against him, barely breathing. Damon was tempted to tap into her thoughts a bit, see what she really knew about what happened in her apartment, but he knew he should have been grateful to still be there. He was afraid of scaring her. Damon drank just enough to satisfy his stomach, but he was by no means full. 
He pulled back and kissed her without wiping his mouth. His stomach dropped thinking that it would make her puke, or that she would suddenly become disgusted. Instead, she moaned and kissed him harder. Something about it bothered him, but his thought was interrupted when she pushed him towards the bed.
Damon's hands under her shirt made her gasp, but he guessed it was more that she had never felt such cold hands in sensitive places. He lifted off her shirt and lowered her down on the bed. Luna pulled his shirt off and ran her hands down his chest. Damon grinned and looked down. Death had been kind to him. Fuck the bloodlust. He'd take Luna any day. They were kissing again when Luna gasped.
"What's the matter?" He asked.
"Do you think we need protection?" 
Damon shrugged and winced, ran his hands down her arms because she was unbelievably soft and warm. "I don't know, but we probably should, just to be sure."
Luna smiled. "I agree." Then her face got red. "Do you have any?"
He shook his head. "No. Well, I used to, but I haven't had much use for them lately. Do you?" This is not how his night was going to end.
Luna shook her head. "No."  Then her face lit up. Without a word she scrambled out from under him and ran from the room in nothing but a pair of pink and red striped woman's briefs that hung low on her hips. Damon loved it.
While she was gone, Damon took off his pants and lay down on the bed. She paused in the doorway and laughed. "Adrienne keeps them in the kitchen." She seemed embarrassed standing there practically naked with a handful of condoms. 
"Well, are you going to come here and warm me up, or what?" Damon asked with his arms outstretched.
Luna ran over and climbed on top of him as Damon tried his best to pull her panties off as quickly as possible. It was then, with Luna on top of him that he forgot about his thirst and almost felt human again.

Afterwards, after Luna had fallen asleep, Damon scoured her naked body for bruises. He'd tried to be gentle since he was very aware of their differences in strength, and it seemed that he had been. Touching her sleeping body brought back his hunger. He moved to the edge of the bed and started putting his clothes back on. 
"Where are you going?" Luna asked in a sleepy voice.
"I'll be back in a little bit."
"Don't leave me," she whispered with her eyes closed, and reached out and grabbed his shirt, holding on to him tightly. Damon turned and looked closer at her face because she sounded like she was in the middle of a nightmare. 
"I won't leave you for long. I'll be back in an hour. When you wake up in the morning and you can't see me, I'll still be there sleeping next to you." Her hand still hadn't loosened. "I'll sleep next to you all night, but Luna I have to go because I don't think I have the willpower to stay with you right now." His words were wasted because when he touched her hand, it fell away. She'd already fallen back asleep. 

Luna woke up in the late afternoon to an empty bed. Damon had left her. She sat up feeling great, well rested, and in love. She didn't think even about Kris until she was in the shower and the knowledge slapped her across the face. He knew where she lived now. She tried to think about the great time she'd had with Damon, but it kept going back to Kris and his promise that he'd come for her.
The phone in her room was ringing when she stepped out and she had to run out of the bathroom with just a towel on to answer it. "Hello?"
"I'm sorry I stormed out of your apartment the other day."
"Oh, Harvey. Hi," she said and went through her closet looking for something to wear. He was the last person she wanted to talk to.
"I didn't mean to be a jerk," he said, and he sounded sincere. The problem was that Luna didn't really care.
"It's ok, really. I'm not mad."
Harvey continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I was just jealous that there was a guy in your room, and Luna I wish I had been that guy in your room, you know what I mean?" Meanwhile, Luna was staring at the look of surprise on her face in the mirror but before she could say anything, Harvey continued. "Look, I'm like two minutes away. I'm going to come up because we need to talk." And then he hung up.
Five years she'd known him and he waited until her life was in chaos to tell her that he wanted to be the guy in her bedroom. It was too late. She got dressed, just an old t-shirt and jeans, matching bra and panties in case Damon decided to show up later. Or Kris. She shivered. Just as she was finished brushing her hair, there was a knock at the door. She wished Adrienne was home, but at the same time reminded herself that it had probably been Adrienne who had let Kris in. She didn't know the circumstances, but it had to be that. She confirmed it was Harvey through the peephole, and she opened the door.
"Hello Mr. Walker," she said, and she closed the door behind him, trying to keep the mood light.
"Luna," he started out, "I like you. I mean, obviously not just as a friend, but as more than that. I need to know where I stand with you."
Luna shook her head. "Harvey, I like you, too. I mean, I've always thought you were a great guy and maybe if the timing was different, something could've happened. But I can't do a relationship right now. My life is too complicated."
"You're seeing someone," he said, and crossed his arms. He looked so angry that Luna had to fight the same emotion rising in her. 
"No, I'm not and it's none of your business. You want to walk in here two years later and try to be the man of my life?" She wanted to slap him.
"Who's that snoring then? You expect me to believe that's Adrienne?" Harvey started walking around the apartment, following a noise which she didn't hear. "I didn't know that girls snored." He was being condescending and she wanted him to leave. When he followed the noise to Luna's doorway he just stood there for a moment, blinked, and then turned to her, angry again. "Not seeing anyone, huh?" 
"What are you talking about? I don't even hear anything." Her arms were crossed.
"There's a guy sleeping on your bed, Luna." He was pointing, but she couldn't see anything because she couldn't see inside of the doorway from the living room. "Is this your non-boyfriend that was in your room the last time I was here?"
Damon? How had she missed that? Luna walked over to where he stood and looked at her bed, which was empty. "What are you talking about?" She asked him, and this time she didn't try to hide that fact that she was disgusted with the way he was acting.
Harvey looked down at her with those dark Italian eyes, as if she'd just told him that vampires were real. "Luna, there's a guy dressed all in black snoring on your bed. You're telling me you don't know who he is?"
Luna knew that Harvey could see Damon. What she also knew was that she couldn't. And Harvey was beginning to freak her out.

A Visit with Insanity. The Dummy's Guide to Killing a Vampire. 
Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Damon was woken up from a deep sleep by the sounds of people yelling. He sat up and saw Luna standing in the doorway with some man, and she looked livid.
"Harvey," Luna was saying, "There's no one there."
"Hey." Harvey said in Damon's direction, but Damon was slow to respond because the sun was still out and a human appeared to be talking to him. "Hey." Their eyes met. "Are you her boyfriend, or what?"
Damon's jaw dropped. "You can see me?" He asked, despite the fact it was clear that he could. Something changed in Harvey's face, and it suddenly became red. Damon could hear the human's heart beating quickly and recognized a flight response before Harvey even moved. "Where are you going?" Damon asked and although he didn't answer, Damon still followed him out of the apartment and managed to duck into the elevator before the doors closed. 
Damon yelled Harvey's name in his ear, but the human refused to even look at him. Finally, Damon decided to change his tactic. He pushed the emergency stop button, which made the car jolt to a stop. He stood directly in front of Harvey, who even then, refused to meet his eyes. "I'm her boyfriend," Damon said. "That's why don't have a chance with her."
Harvey finally met his eyes. The brown eyes Damon looked into were strong, and it made him think for the first time that if vampires existed, then maybe vampire slayers did too. "What kind of future does she have with a parasite like you?" Harvey asked him.
Damon was surprised, but wouldn't let it show and managed to not miss a beat. "What kind of future does she have with a dead man?" Harvey smirked at him and then put his hand right through Damon's body to press the release. They started moving again. "How can you see me?" Damon asked.
"You might as well be a figment of my imagination," Harvey said, but it was under his breath as if he were afraid someone might hear them if the elevator stopped.
Damon snickered. "How, exactly, did a figment of your imagination fuck Luna last night?"
"Vampires can't fuck," Harvey shouted back. Damon was glad to finally see the human lose his cool. "And don't talk to me like some kind of idiot human because I know all about your kind. I know what your limitations are, you blood sucking piece of shit." 
The doors of the elevator opened on the ground floor and Harvey walked out, Damon following. "Yeah, and humans can't see vampires," Damon said. Harvey glanced at him but didn't stop walking. They were outside now. Damon knew he was getting under his skin. "How are you doing this?" 
 Harvey led him two blocks down, one block over, and right into the mall. Damon followed because he had nothing else to do and they were both well aware that he plenty of time to kill. Harvey had to talk, just like the sun had to go down every night. And it wasn't too long until it would happen.
Damon could tell that Harvey had given his predicament a lot of thought. He hadn't come to the mall to shop. He went directly to the food court and had a seat at a table by itself, out of earshot of teenagers or moms carrying toddlers. Then he pulled out his cell phone and put it to his ear as Damon had a seat next to him. "I can talk to you like this," Harvey said, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention.
"Wow," Damon said, sitting back. "You do this a lot?"
"Not as often as I'd like," was Harvey's reply.
"Why are you so pissed off?" The crush on Luna was obvious, but there was something else off about the guy. Like how he could be seeing the dead.
"Why do you think?" Although he had the phone to his ear, his eyes never left Damon's. "You're eyeing me like a steak."
Damon shrugged. "It's not intentional. It's just a part of my nature. How long have you been able to see my kind?"
"What does it matter?"
Damon sighed. "I don't know, I'm just curious. I want to talk to you, like how did you even know we exist? I mean, I had no idea when I was human." Harvey shrugged and looked away, and it was obvious that he wasn't going to answer the question. "Why are you making this so difficult?"
"I'm not trying to make this difficult. I just have no interest in having a conversation with you. It's that simple. I have nothing to say to you.  I have enough friends, thank you. So, I'd appreciate it if you'd just stand up and walk away. And Luna, don't you dare come near her again."
Damon found the protectiveness amusing. He felt the sun go down.  "How did Luna get here?" Damon asked in mock amazement looking past Harvey. The human took the bait and turned his head to look. Damon crossed over and when Harvey turned back, Damon was looking at him with a huge grin on his face.  "I crossed over," He said, when Harvey had no reaction.
"Impressive," Harvey said, as he put his phone back in his pocket.
Damon sighed. What a jack ass. He'd probably learn more from Luna about the guy than by asking him questions directly. "Well, thanks for your time. Good luck with the whole condescending thing. I'm sure it'll get you really far in life." Damon stood up.
"I was serious about Luna," Harvey called after him.
"I know you are," Damon said over his shoulder.

Weird. It was so weird. How could Harvey have seen Damon? She was tempted to call him, but didn't have the energy to deal with whatever it was he was mad about, and figured she'd give him some time to cool off. 
"Damon?" She asked the empty space in her bed. There was no response and she felt like a moron. The sun had gone down and she had an hour until work. If Damon was going to show up, or at least come back, he'd better do it soon. She fed her fish, not remembering the last time she'd actually done it. There was a sound like something falling over in the living room and she froze. She wanted to call out Damon's name, because it was really the only person it could be, but she was afraid maybe she'd missed Adrienne coming in. Her heart was beating too fast, telling her that Kris was back the second Damon had gone away. She put down the fish food and peeked down the hallway. No one. She took a deep breath and let it out. 
Luna wanted to close the door and lock it, but she had things to do, life didn't stop. She went out into the open space of the living room and stood there, listening for anything to tell her someone was in the apartment with her, but there were no sounds. There was nothing except a fallen magazine. She picked it up and put it back on the coffee table. The front door was still closed and locked. Her heartbeat slowed a bit. It was time to get going. Lord, please protect her, keep the evil away. 
Luna went back into her room and paused with her door on the knob. She was just getting her purse, was it necessary? She shut the door, paused at the lock and told herself she was being silly. She was fine. And then she turned around and her heart almost stopped when she saw the person sitting on her bed. The scream was right at her lips before she even comprehended that it was Kris where Damon should had been, and he was sitting there like he'd been there all day. Luna was able to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, more out of not wanting to give him the satisfaction, not because she wasn't afraid. She was afraid. She was so terrified that she collapsed against the door and slid down it, feeling her butt hit the floor when she should have been running. 
 "Happy to see me, my love?" Kris looked amused.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Was this hyperventilating? Oh, God. Oh, God. Okay, she was getting a grip, she was back in reality, Kris was sitting on her bed, and he was talking to her, and he was there to kill her. She knew what she needed to do. She put her hand on the doorknob, half picking herself up and turning it at the same time. As soon as there was space enough for her body, she squeezed through, and got on one knee to stand up. For a second she thought she might actually make it, she saw the front door a spit second before Kris's body blocked it and she felt that steely grip on her upper arm. She tried to pull out of it, but it was impossible, she was much more likely to pull her arm out of its socket than escape him. Her last chance was a look at the window and for Damon.  It was still empty, there was no face there.
"Don't worry," Kris said, "We won't be here long enough for Damon to get back." He paused. "Well, you should hope not. I wouldn't want to get blood on your sheets." He pulled her back to the bedroom, half pushed her down on the bed. She sat. "But really, sweetheart, these sheets are like sandpaper. I think we can do much better," He said, leaning close to her ear. His breath on her face felt rancid and she wanted to push his face away. He stood up and walked over to the dresser, ran his eyes up and down the shelf. "I apologize for snooping around last night but I just couldn't help myself. I got bored while I was waiting for you to come home. Your roommate," he began, and then paused as if he wanted to reword something. "Your roommate is very nice." He had a smile on his face. Luna wanted to spit on him and she wondered if maybe Adrienne wasn't visiting her mom. Maybe she was a missing person and Luna hadn't even noticed. "I'm glad that things worked out the way they did. You may not know this, but Damon seems to be involved in several aspects of my life. You'd better hope that I don't ever see him again." Luna followed his eyes to the mirror above the dresser. The print of Damon was missing. "Let's go," Kris said, turning to her. Luna shook her head but she had no voice. Kris took her hand and patted it. "I have absolutely no problem taking you by force," he said, lowering his voice as if he were trying to be sweet.
"I have to work," she said as a mild protest. "If I don't show up, I'll get fired."
Kris grinned. "You don't need a fucking job. I take care of you, don't I?" Luna opened her mouth but then closed it, knowing that there was no way she'd be able to answer that question without bursting into tears. And Jesus knew she'd cried enough. It was time to be strong. Kris didn't appreciate her silence. He gripped her upper arm again and she grimaced when his fingers tightened on the bruises that were already there. He pulled her to her feet and asked her again, this time, his teeth were inches from her face. "I take care of you. Don't I?" This time she nodded and her eyes went back to the fire escape. It was the last thing she saw before everything went black.

Luna woke up with the prick in her arm that was already so familiar from her nightmares. Next was the burning sensation. She winced and clutched her stomach. She felt so cold, colder than she'd ever felt, colder than Damon's skin, but she was sweating. Did she have a fever? She heard Lilith walk away and close the door behind her. There had been no words exchanged between brother and sister. A moment later, there was added weight on the bed. 
"What is it that all you women see in him?" Kris asked her.
Luna opened her eyes, rolled over onto her back. Even Lucifer had been beautiful, a fallen angel. "Why are you doing this to me?" She asked him.
"I know it's not the bad boy angle. I got that covered." Kris lay on his side next to her with his head resting on his hand. He reached over with his other hand and started stroking her bare stomach.  It wasn't until then that Luna realized that she was in her underwear. She wanted to feel disgusted but couldn't. Now that her body had stopped shaking, she liked his closeness and his hand on her skin.
"What are you doing to me?" Luna asked. Kris just smiled and she tingled when his hand crept lower. She looked deep into her eyes. "Are you going to rape me?"
Kris's hand was gone so fast that for a second she thought she'd just imagined that it had been there. "No," he said, and she could feel the anger tense up his body. He sat up and Luna was able to see the tight undershirt and blue striped boxers he was wearing.
She grabbed his wrist before he could stand. "Because, I would let you. If you wanted to." Kris looked disgusted and he pulled out of her grip. "Don't leave," Luna said, feeling the panic come on. She dropped to the floor and managed to grab his leg. When he saw the desperation in his face he smiled again. "Please tell me why you're doing this to me," she pleaded, crying into his thigh. 
 Kris leaned down and picked her up easily, and held her like a new bride. "I know the process must be driving you mad. But, I need your entire self if we're going to be together. Once your body is filled sufficiently with my blood, you won't even know anyone but me. I'll consume you're every waking thought." Luna leaned her head up against his neck and he sat them both down on the bed. She should have been angry.  "Just a little longer," he said. "And then it'll be done."
The door opened and Lilith popped her head in the room. Her face changed once she saw them in the bed together. "Meeting in five minutes. Ditch the bitch."
Kris just stroked her hair and didn't even look at his sister. Once the door was closed again, he laid her head down on the bed. "I have to work. Just sleep for a while. I'll be back soon." 
Luna was asleep within minutes on the luxurious cashmere sheets. 

Damon headed to Michael's when he found Luna wasn't home. He was sure she was working and he couldn't expect her life to stop for him. Michael was on the couch flipping through channels. Damon peeked inside. "Were you expecting me?" He asked Michael because when the door opened, his friend hadn't even looked up.
Michael half shrugged and half nodded and put down the remote. "It's a curse." Damon sat down next to Michael and looked at him, grinning. Michael glanced at him twice expectantly before he finally asked, "What are you so happy about?"
"Well, I'm relieved you didn't have a vision of this because it would be kind of weird but Luna and I," he searched for the right word to use, "We hooked up last night."
"Hooked up?" Michael looked as if he wanted to start laughing. 
Made love? "We did the deed, you know? We did it."
"You did it? 
"I'm sorry," Damon said, wondering what kind of male complex made him want to tell Michael in the first place. "You didn't need to know that."
"You had sex," Michael corrected him. They both faded into silence. He looked at Damon. "Well? How was it?"
Damon shrugged. "It was ok." Michael continued staring at him, unbelieving. Then Damon cracked and the silly grin came out again. "It was awesome." 
Michael's look said that he approved. "I bet it was. Congratulations, man. I'm proud of you."
Damon put his arm on the back of the couch, turning to Michael to get his attention because now that it was out in the open, he couldn't resist asking. "Have you ever tried? You know, since you changed?"
"What did you think the hooker the other night was all about?" Michael put down the remote and shrugged. "They say the bloodlust takes over all functions. I don't know why you would be any different. Maybe you didn't take to it like most do. Did you use a condom?"
Damon nodded. "Yeah, just to be safe." 
"Cool. Congratulations, again. You've got mail by the way." He pointed to an envelope on the coffee table. 
"Back to the real world," Damon groaned and didn't make a move to pick it up.
"Well, Damon, the world doesn't stop because you fell in love." 
Damon could see the name from where he sat. J. Barnes. "I've got 24 hours of freedom."
"Time enough to kiss your girl goodbye," Michael said. Damon's eyes narrowed. "I'm just kidding," Michael said, and then swallowed hard. "Ok, so I probably shouldn't joke like that." He looked worried that Damon would hit him, which was exactly what Damon wanted to do.
He shook his head. "No, that wasn't funny." Jerry Springer flashed by on the TV. "How could a human protect themselves from one of us?"
Michael took a moment to consider the question but didn't ask why. "Well, as I've already demonstrated for you, fire would be one way," He said, showing Damon the skin on his arm that still hadn't regained its normal color. It looked like Michael had managed to achieve a deep tan on only one section of his body. "Also, excessive loss of blood would do the trick, but you'd have to be thorough. I'm not sure that a human could even do that. For the most part, your body can regenerate fairly quickly. A severe injury would likely just put you into a coma until your body got the blood it needed. The chances of that would be pretty slim, so your body would eventually just decay into dust."
"So, that's really just starvation."
"Yes and also beheading," Michael said, putting up one finger as if he were teaching a class. Vampire hunting 101.
"Stake through the heart?"
Michael shook his head, looking as if that solution was tired and boring. "Probably not, unless it fell into the excessive blood loss category."
"Garlic?"
Michael just stared.
Damon settled down into the couch and tried to imagine Luna doing any of those things. "So, do you think there's any way a human female would be able to protect herself?"
Michael changed the channel.  "Not unless she's educated in the art of the sword. Or owns a napalm gun. Then, I'd say no."
Damon sighed. "I just don't want to lose her."
"I got a painting over there you might like," Michael said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. Damon turned and saw what he'd been talking about. It was of Luna, the night she'd woken up, covered in blood. It was not beautiful, and Damon couldn't keep looking at it. There were many more stacked behind it.
"You've had a lot of time on your hands," Damon said. The painting had left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. A bad memory. He was beginning to hate them. "You're good."
"Thank you," Michael said, stretched out his arms and yawned. "I only draw what I see."  
"Michael, can you see what's going to happen at this meeting tomorrow?"
Michael shook his head. "Nothing."
 The break in was still bothering him and he suspected it had something to do with Lucas, or his group, who insisted no personal contact with humans under any circumstances. They'd kill her, wouldn't they? "What if she were a vampire? How does that work?" Try as he might, he still had a big black space where his last twenty -four hours of living should've been.
Michael shut off the TV and the atmosphere in the room was suddenly serious. "Don't."
Damon crossed his arms.  "Well, she has a say in this too, right? And if it'll keep her safe and on earth, wouldn't it? Then why not?"
Michael's eyes were narrowed. "Why not?" He repeated, "Because if God had wanted all of these vampires around, He wouldn't have stopped making us, Damon. We're the ones who are bringing the end of times, not the humans. If there's ever been an abomination on this earth, it's us."
"Wait, you were the one telling me that I should have changed over Adrienne after we'd just met."
"That was a joke, Damon," Michael said in a flat voice. "I was joking. Although you're right, I was an ass to do it, because it's not a joking matter and it's not something that should be taken lightly."
Damon's head started itching again, but in the spirit of breaking the habit, he pulled out his silver lighter and started flipping the top open and shut. "Why are you so concerned with what God wants, when you'll never see Him? He's practically put a brick wall up between us and heaven." It made him uncomfortable to be talking about this, like God was listening, and yes they say that God hears everything, but Damon felt like God had them on speaker phone in heaven.
"There is no never. There is no always." Michael met his eyes. "And everyone is held accountable sometime, Damon."
Damon flipped the top of the lighter shut. The metal on metal click made him want to shudder. "Twenty four hours." Time to change the subject before he was struck down by lightening. "That's all I have with her."
Michael looked at his face closely for another minute then faced the TV again. "What are you doing here then?"
"She's at work." He saw the time when Michael turned the TV back on. "I should be heading back, though. I want to keep an eye on her apartment. And I'll probably stay there until the meeting." With that, Damon knew it was time to go. He was about to stand up when he came to s sudden realization of something that had been missing since he'd walked in. "Where's my dog?"
Michael gritted his teeth for a moment. "I, um, I set him free."
Damon took a deep breath and counted to ten.
"Look," Michael said, using the heading him off at the pass tactic, "I can't see much right now but I know that you're going to be gone for awhile and that beating was driving me crazy."
Damon's breath caught in his throat. "Is something going to happen to me?" Michael shook his head. "No, really Michael. As my friend you're obligated to tell me if I'm going to die." He thought about that statement. "Again. If I'm going to die, again."
Michael sighed rather reluctantly. "You're not going to die." He paused. "But I ate your dog. I'm sorry."
Damon sat back in the couch. "Why would you do something that?"
"It was late and it was cold out and I was hungry and the beating. . ."
"Yeah, I know. The beating." Damon shook his head. "I loved that dog."
"You didn't love that dog. You just have some kind of complex about saving everything. If it's feeble and sad, you love it."
Damon felt anger rising. "You ate my dog and you're giving me a lecture."
Michael shook his head. "I was reminding you that not everyone's like you."
Drop it. "I think I'll head out," Damon said.
 "Tell your little human that I said hi," Michael said flatly.
He was just jealous. Simple as that.

The room was dark, but Luna knew exactly where she was. How could she have begged him not to leave? She hated him, he was disgusting, and she couldn't believe that she'd let him touch her. The blood had done to her, it had to have been. He told her to sleep, she slept. She could've been gone hours ago.
As soon as she stood up, she was blinded by the white room when the light was flicked on. It wasn't until after she'd massaged her eyes though her eyelids that she could see Kris was standing against the wall right by the light switch with his arms crossed. 
Luna hugged herself, trying to hide her mostly naked body. "Where are my clothes?"
Kris nodded to the pile in the corner by his feet. As she passed him he leaned over and looked into her eyes, but didn't touch her. "It's already worn off, hasn't it?" She didn't respond, just pulled on her jeans. "You hate me, don't you?" Luna gave him a dirty look and pulled her shirt over her head. She sat on the edge of the bed to put on her sneakers. There was no fear now, just anger. "Leaving so soon?" He asked. Ignore him, he can't take your soul, it belongs to God. Kris leaned over the bed. "How does it feel to know that in a very short time, you'll be worshipping me?"
Luna's hands were shaking but she had no answer. She wanted to push his face away but wouldn't risk making him mad. She'd talk to Damon. Luna stood up and attempted to walk past him. Just when she thought she had made it, his hand whipped out and grabbed her upper arm again. He did it on purpose, in the same spot, so the bruises will darken. She braced herself for anything, but he just held out a fistful of twenties. Luna looked at it but made no move to take it. 
 "Take a cab, it's late out." 
Luna snatched it out of his hand. There was no other way to make him let go. She left without saying another word.

Luna opened the door to an empty apartment. Adrienne. She opened the door to the other girl's room and saw the bags half unpacked on the bed. She'd been home while Luna had been with Kris. When she entered her room, Damon's face in the window didn't scare her this time, but she didn't acknowledge him because she didn't want him to see the tears.  Her skin felt dirty, and she didn't want to be looked at, much less touched in any way. She looked at him again, and he tapped the glass. She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and went over the window. 
"I'm sorry I left you earlier," he said, and touched her hand. She moved over so that he could climb in. As soon as he was inside and had closed the window, he tried to pull her towards him, but she stood up.
"We need to have a serious talk."
Here it was, the brush off, the regret. Damon felt his dead heart tense. "Luna, I know you're scared, and I'm sorry I brought you into this." He pushed his hair back. "I'm such an ass." 
Luna sat down on her computer chair. She put her head in her hands. Funny thing was that she managed to get into her own mess without his help. "We need to leave the city," she said. 
Damon looked up at her, took a moment to replay what she'd just said. "I can't leave right now." The tears came then because Luna knew she was alone. Damon pulled her towards him but instead of resisting, she sat on his lap. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I promise I'll take care of you." 
It made her laugh the way he'd said it, so unexpected. "Why did you just call me that?" She wiped her face.
Damon shrugged. "I don't know. I just didn't want to see you cry." Luna took a deep breath, and put her head on his shoulder. It felt good safe. He had his arm around her and he hugged her tighter, pulling her legs up. "Bella, Bella," he said, softly. 
He was the one, she knew. He was it for her. Was it enough? "We need to leave," she said again. She couldn't spend another night there.
"I can't." Damon felt like his insides were being torn out when she looked at him. He'd never felt so helpless before. "I have something I have to do tomorrow. It may change everything." He'd find out what they wanted to do with her. But running wasn't the answer. He was in too deep. "I just need time to think."

In all of this madness, there lies a reason for being.

3.

Accountability (I)

Damon forced himself to get up despite the bright light in the room. He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. He felt like shit. The crinkle from under him when he rolled over made him aware of the note on the bed. It was right where Luna had fallen asleep. He narrowed his eyes, and picked it up. The spot was cold, she was gone.
 He read the note and then crumpled it in his hands. She'd abandoned him. There was no contact information, no reason. It was a sorry a, hope to see you someday. Love will prevail type shit. He took a deep breath with his worthless lungs and counted to ten. After all the worrying he'd done, how he'd trusted her more completely than anyone he'd ever met, she'd picked up and left him. She couldn't have waited a few hours? He was sure he would've had to leave with how dangerous the situation was for him.  
He'd never loved anyone before, not like the way he'd loved her. The girls while he'd been living were shit, fuck Giselle, she'd been nothing to him. Damon threw the pink girly paper in his hand across the floor. It wasn't enough destruction for him. To keep from wrecking her entire room, he took another steady breath and put his face in his hands. She was gone. But he didn't have time to cry. He'd just have to deal with it. Life doesn't stop just because he fell in love.
Damon set off to the meeting, which was to take place in an old warehouse across town. It was a long walk, maybe the longest of his life, as far as he remembered. His heart hurt with every step. He stopped by the gas station and picked up a pack of smokes. It felt good to pollute his lungs. It made him feel human for the moment it took him to light another, with his trusty old lighter who'd been with him through life, and death. The warehouse reminded him of the meat market and his hunger flared while he approached.  He had a vivid image of slicing the skin across Luna's throat with his fingernails and draining her dry. 
Damon opened the front door and smelled it. Blood. He paused just inside of the doorway. There were boxes piled up on either side, making an aisle that went straight back to the other end of the warehouse. There may have been a corner to turn, somewhere further down, but he couldn't see where his colleagues were, or if was alone.  The door clicked shut behind him. He'd double checked the address, map quested it on Luna's computer before he'd left. Nothing moved. His hearing wasn't much help, he heard a tapping sound which may have been water dripping from a leaky pipe, but he couldn't be sure. Or it could have been blood dripping. The smell was enticing. He wanted to leave. He took a step forward, and felt it echo through the walls. He should leave. The smell was horrible. Run. The smell was beautiful. Run. He couldn't decide whether to step forward or backwards. Then he remembered the last time his gut feeling had told him to run away.  Run, Goddamn it.
"Hurry up, Damon. I'm bored." He recognized Lilith's voice immediately. This time, the run instinct kicked in. He pushed it as hard as he could but it wouldn't budge. Maybe they'd locked it, or maybe someone was on the other side keeping it closed. Didn't matter, he wasn't getting out.  He didn't care if he was a chicken shit, he still punched the door in a last ditch effort to open it. Lilith should have been dead, but now she was just pissed off. "Come on, come on," He heard her call in that smug voice. "I don't have all day." 
Damon began following the voice, feeling like he was on his way to the electric chair. It had that same air, the same dread that said he knew that would happen when he reached the end of the corridor. He corrected himself on what he'd thought was the longest fucking walk of his life. 
The first body was lying right after the turn. Looks like he'd been the closest to escaping decapitation. It hadn't worked. Damon couldn't tell who he'd been. The next body was halfway to the conference table. The dark skin told Damon, Theo. Lucas's body still sat in the chair at the head of the table. He'd been first. Four heads lined up on the floor in a neat little line. Marius's and Andrew's faces depicted only rage. The other two, abject fear.  Blood covered every spare surface from the conference table, to the surrounding boxes, and the tepid pool that Damon was standing in. Everything was red except for Lilith. She was as immaculate as ever and she was sitting on the board room table, legs crossed, a red stained towel, keeping her clothes from being ruined. 
"Nice of you to join us," she said. Damon realized then that it hadn't been Lilith who sent him the envelope. Somehow they'd found out about their meeting. Maybe someone had ratted, or maybe a letter had been intercepted. He'd never become friends with the men, but there was an empty sadness inside him. For the cause. Because the chances of Lilith ruling were becoming greater, and that meant that the human race was nearly fucked.
Following a movement in the corner of his eye, Damon turned to see a blood splattered Kris cleaning the blade of the largest sword he'd ever seen. He was in an undershirt, using the blue dress shirt he'd been wearing to mop up red stains on his skin. Kris met Damon's eyes with what felt like extreme hatred, but Lilith called his attention back before any words were exchanged.
"Would you like to taste the blood of the king?" She asked, holding out a full wine glass. "It's still fresh."
Damon just shook his head and glanced at Kris again. "Am I next?"
Lilith laughed. "Don't you think we'd have something special planned for you? We're handling punishments on a case by case basis."
 "I'm sorry," Damon said, trying to keep his voice from rising into a whine. Michael had been right, there was no never. There was no always. At least as long as Lilith was still moving.
Lilith just laughed, a sound that made him cringe. Buy time. Stay alive. "Damon, now's not the time for apologies. We should celebrate." She was looking at Kris. "We've just taken control of the city." Lilith raised her glass like she was making a toast, but no one else had glasses and didn't move. She took her drink. Damon wanted to knock her backwards off the table and rip out her hair. "And all hell is about to break loose," she added, licking her lips. Then she made a face.  "Yuck, who wants this nasty old stuff anyway?" She let go over her glass and it shattered, splashing blood onto Damon's shoes. She slid off the table and walked over to him. She smelled like blood, it covered her like a perfume. She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulders, like all she wanted was a hug. Damon didn't know why, but he had a nagging feeling that she did it just to make eye contact with Kris. His body tensed up and Lilith pulled her head back to whisper in his ear. "You betrayed me, but you're still a part of me, Damon. I created you." She leaned back and looked into his eyes. He didn't know if he wanted to kiss her lips or bite them off. "So, I'll listen to your begging," she said.
Damon had been prepared for any fast movements from her, but it was Kris who kicked the back of his knees and made them buckle. Next, he was looking at her waist and he knew what she wanted. And he knew he was going to give it to her. "Please, Lilith. I've been dishonest, and I never should've left you." Genuine tears welled up in his eyes because he really meant his words and there was nothing left for him outside of those walls. "I'm sorry. And I want to come back home." There was no emotion in her face, and she could've easily stomped him with one stiletto heel. "Just give me another chance." Kris had circled around behind Lilith and was walking towards him now. "Please, Lilith, I was stupid," he said, hearing his voice becoming more desperate as her brother approached. "I'll never leave again." Damon could see the shining blade in Kris's hand out of the corner of his eye. "Please." 
Lilith's eyes moved from Damon to her brother, who hovered over him. Damon opened his mouth to attempt for her attention, but Kris kicked his arm and knocked him over. Damon didn't move from his back on the floor. He felt the blood of his fallen colleagues soaking into his shirt. This was how he'd die. "Get your ass up," Kris said. 
Damon didn't move, didn't speak, just waited for the sword to rise. Lilith was walking away, and a man in a black suit was collecting the heads and putting them into a black trash bag. His last chance. "Lilith," Damon said, and looked in her direction. "Lilith," he yelled. She didn't come back.
Kris seemed angry that he didn't have Damon's full attention, and his terror. He reached down and grabbed Damon's hair, pulling him up to a sitting position where Damon expected him to slice his head cleanly off at the shoulders, and he wondered briefly how long ago Kris had learned how to use the weapon. Instead of stopping at his knees, Kris pulled Damon up until he was standing. "I have my own business with you." He said, and then pushed Damon's face away.
Damon and was about to ask what, when Lilith called to him. "Let's go Damon." She was standing by the open back door. "Get in the damn car." Damon smiled. 
He didn't even consider trying to run away as they walked down a sidewalk and to the car and driver that was waiting for them. The day was so bright, and the sunlight reflecting from the windows hurt his eyes. The cool black interior of the car put him more at ease. He felt the blood on his back still, the cold moistness reminding him of when he'd first woken up in that dark room, alone, and dead.  Damon sat right next to Lilith, pressed up against her. Yes, I'll be your lap dog, I'll be anything you want. 
They must've hosed Kris off because when Damon saw him again, he'd lost all traces of the blood and he had on a fresh change of clothes, another white undershirt and a pair of jeans. He looked exhilarated, the kind of look that Damon would usually associate with winning the lottery or a marathon or something. He made a point not to look at Damon, just leaned in the car and spoke to Lilith.
"I'll catch up with you once everything is cleaned up." 
Lilith didn't say anything, and Kris closed the door. 
Lilith poured two drinks from the decanter, which should've held alcohol if his world had any semblance for normality, but since he really was living his worst nightmare, it was filled with blood. Watching her hands, Damon wondered what she'd done in another life. Where these the hands of a wife? A mother? She handed him a glass. "Drink it," she said. It wasn't a toast. It was a challenge. 
"Lucas?" Damon asked. 
Lilith shrugged. "Your fallen leader? Yes." She said, as if she hadn't known his name, but Damon knew better. 
Damon wasn't sad anymore, just angry. He drank the blood, it was excellent but not quite as good as from the living, this type of blood wouldn't have that warmth. Bella Luna, he thought. Hopefully she'd have a good life, at least now that he and Lucas were gone. 
"What happens now?" Damon asked as the car pulled away from the curb. 
Lilith shrugged, crossed her legs and looked at him. Why had he even left? It seemed inevitable that he'd come back to her. She'd given him life. "We have the city. Now we move on to bigger and better things." 
 "Are we headed to the club, or back home?" Damon asked.
Lilith seemed to be wringing her hands nervously. Damon caught the look on her face. "Neither. We're headed for the country estate. I'm sure my condo in the city will be up in flames within the hour. People will be angry," she said, sounding like she understood why that was. So much for waiting Luna out. It really was over. Lilith was looking out of the window with her hand on the glass. She looked so nervous that Damon started scratching the back of his ear. "Shit," she said. 
"What's the matter?" Damon asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver lighter. It wasn't until he started clicking the top open and shut that Lilith paid him any attention.
"Where the hell did you get that?" She frowned at it and he could tell that she didn't like it but wasn't sure why.
"It's mine," Damon said, scratching the back of his head and putting it away. "Why are you acting so jumpy?"
Lilith took a deep breath and pushed back her hair. "We're an old species, and just like humans, vampires have a superstition that you need to be aware of so that you can prepare for what you're about to experience," Lilith said, smoothing down her skirt. Damon felt anxious, and was scratching the inside of his arm, the skin becoming irritated. She was glancing past him out the window and it didn't make him feel any better. "Vampires don't like running water. We used to think that it was impossible for our kind to cross it, but now we know that it's just superstition. The country estate is useful because we know we won't be followed across the bridge. We could control just the city, but the humans would burn it down, call it some kind of terrorist attack or biochemical hazard, but it would be simple for them to take us out without compromising their hold." She was looking past him again but the car was stopped at a light. She spoke faster as if the hazard was getting closer. 
"The point is that, by having a base outside of the city it gives us the upper hand. Of course, from experience you know that things aren't as simple as that. There has to be a reason why the vast majority of vampires created in this city have never left. There are millions of us out there, in Europe even, who are trapped by water. I will not be one of those." The car was moving again and Lilith had her hair bunched up in one hand and she was running her hands through it as if she were combing it with her fingers, but Damon suspected that she was really close to compulsively pulling it out, because his mom used to do it when she was extremely stressed. "The water in churches is not holy because the priests bless it, how could a simple human channel the powers of God?" She laughed nervously. Damon felt the weight, the anticipation creeping up on him. He realized that he was running his fingernails down his jeans, and made himself stop, holding his hands. "Water is, in nature, the only pure substance. It is also the only substance on earth infused with the power of God. That's why it's used in baptism and all those other stupid human rituals."
"How do you even know this?" Damon asked. You'd think it was something he would've heard before, somewhere through all of the contacts he'd made in their world. He had to admit, not one time had anyone acknowledged anything outside of the city. It was like nothing else existed. He pushed his hair out of his face.
"We know this because it's part of our history. It affects each of us differently, crossing over the water, and there's no way to make it better. It doesn't matter if you take an airplane, a boat. It's always the same. Kris tries meditating, but I see him biting through his tongue, in the end."
Damon narrowed his eyes, was distracted by the panic that was sitting in his belly, and the itching was getting worse. "What's going to happen?" He asked, placing his hand over Lilith's.
She gripped his hand tightly and leaned in closer. "You don't think that God will let us pass right over it, do you?" 
Damon was beyond scratching. He just wanted to hurt himself. "What's going on?" He asked, feeling like he'd been tricked. The partition was up. "What about the driver?"
Lilith pushed her hair back and looked out of the window. He'd never seen her so vulnerable. "He's a hired human. He's been paid to drive directly to the compound, no matter what kind of commotion we cause back here."
The rocking started, Damon's body regressed right back. He was moving forward and backward and he didn't know why, but it caused a memory to stir. Nothing specific, but his body recognized the movements. Lilith called his attention back. "You feel it, don't you? As we get closer?"
"What is it?" Damon asked, still rocking. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. 
"Some call it the wrath of God," she said, facing the window. 
That didn't help his scratching. His scalp was starting to bleed. "What do you call it?" She didn't respond. "What do you call it?" He asked again.
"I see it," Lilith breathed. She sat back in the seat, closed her eyes and clenched her fists.
Damon could feel the incline of the tires, the beginning of the bridge. "What do you call it?' He asked again, and when he got no response, he asked again in a whisper because the pressure had started around his head. 
Finally, Lilith answered. "Hell."
Damon's heart clenched and jolted his whole body out of his seat. His breath caught in his lungs and he grabbed his chest. There was no miracle of life there, no hope for the future, there was just intense white pain as his heart contracted and echoed through his body. It felt like a wind, or maybe just the sound of wind began to stir the air in the car and that's when Lilith began to scream. It must've been the pressure building in her head that made her do it, and if Damon hadn't been so shocked by the movement and pain in his chest, of his heart trying to come back to life, he'd probably be screaming at the top of his lungs, too. Another contraction came, and he felt like his heart wanted to break through his chest. How was this even possible? And Lilith was screaming like she'd just had a glimpse inside of her own personal evil. And it was never ending, as soon as one scream ended, she began another and she was pulling her hair out and leaning forward in the seat as if the next thing that was going to come out of her mouth was vomit. 
The next contraction made him cry out, squeeze the skin over where his heart was, and made him want to shove something down Lilith's throat to make her stop screaming. He rocked back and forth, had one hand to his chest and the other on his forehead to try to relieve the pressure but it wouldn't let up. He could hear the water under them, felt like he was engulfed in it and he wanted to crawl through the roof of the car to get away. If that was God, and water his holy tool, then Damon wanted nothing to do with Him. Another beat came, and he felt his old blood, thick and clotted, try to move through the veins. He was pulling his hair now too, fell to the floor and pressed his face into the floor mats. Another beat came and he stamped his foot against the door again and again. He felt something splatter against his face and realized it was blood, coming from Lilith's throat. She had screamed so long and hard that something was ripping inside. Damon was in the fetal position when it suddenly stopped. He opened his eyes and looked at Lilith, who still had her mouth open but had stopped screaming. No one moved for a moment. 
"Relatively short bridge," Lilith said, her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. She smoothed down her hair. "It's easier at night. When you don't have the added pressure of the veil." 
"My heart was beating," Damon said. He sat back up on the seat, wiped Lilith's blood splatters from his face and was not hungry at all.
"I know." Lilith's voice was shaking, but outwardly she looked like she'd composed herself. "It's nothing," She said. "The rest of the ride is long, partly because we've managed to find an otherwise completely landlocked route. Just sleep it off, you'll feel better."

Accountability (II)

The car stopped in front of a huge mansion. Damon sat forward, and put his hand on Lilith's knee to look past her and up at the building. It was the biggest house he'd ever seen, with columns and huge wooded double doors that had no windows to greet guests but with security cameras in which to watch them. He couldn't even see the roof, but the stairs and landing appeared to be solid marble. Where had all that money come from?
His hand on her leg woke Lilith up, and when she looked at him, she smiled. It was nice, he had to admit. "What do you think?" She asked.
Damon shook his head. "It's incredible. How many rooms?"
Lilith shrugged. "I don't know, never counted."
The door opened and an older man with salt and pepper hair and a mustache stuck his head in. He opened his mouth and then paused, following the progression of Damon's hand. "Welcome home."
"Tucker, do you have any idea how many rooms are in this place?" She asked him.
 "Forty three bedrooms, 31 bathrooms, five kitchens, three dining rooms, a ballroom and one underground network that runs 22 cubic miles."  He was smiling proudly, like he owned the place. "And congratulations on the defeat."
Lilith beamed at Damon. That was his fate.
The room Lilith led him to was roughly the size of her entire city apartment. The house was immaculate, and that hadn't surprised him. The guards were the typical men she always had with her, the mysterious ones in black suits. Her room there was decorated just as her apartment had been, rich colors and huge mahogany furniture, and devoid of anything remotely personal. Again, not a surprise. 
"Tucker is instructing the guards right now that you're forbidden to leave the premises. You'll be locked in this room until you earn my trust," she said, putting down her purse on the coffee table. The room had its own bathroom, living room, and bedroom area. A mini bar. Anything he'd need.
Damon nodded. He'd expected as much. He considered himself a POW again, but what war was there now? He took his shirt off and sat down on the bed. "So, let's start the celebration." He was afraid, angry, turned on. He wanted to be dominated, dominate, destroy her. He wanted to fuck. 
Lilith continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "Food will be brought up to you daily. You'll see no one but me."
"I know the drill," he said. He wondered for a split second if there were bars on the windows. "Come here," he said unzipping his pants and pushing them off.
"I'll go shopping for you," she said, eyeing his underwear. 
"I can take them off, too," he offered.  Lilith shook her head and took something off the desk which was set up as if he'd actually have correspondence. 
Lilith didn't say anything, just walked over to him, and he thought for a split second that maybe she'd give in. She took something off of the night table and then hiked up her skirt, straddling him. It wasn't until she had her entire weight on him that she held up what was in her hand. The light glinted off the knife and made him blink the glare away. "I always keep one close to the bed, just in case," she said, and her voice was as soft and smooth as the silk pillow covers.
Damon lay still as she slid the blade down his chest and licked away the blood that welled up from the wound she made. Was it sick that he was still aroused? The cut was throbbing but he wanted her to do it again. Would she kill him now, in the privacy of her own home? Wouldn't be bad. The thoughts of Luna wouldn't leave his head and as much as he hadn't wanted to die at Kris's hands, it didn't sound too bad then, as long as it was Lilith who held the blade. Lilith sat up, ready to make another cut. The last thing he remembered before the blacking out was the feeling of the blade on the base of his throat.

The Bitch. Silence.

When Damon regained consciousness, the first thing he knew was the taste of life on his lips. The blood went right down his throat and after a few minutes he was able to grab a hold of the source and suck harder. He had a hold of a wrist.
As soon as he was able to open his eyes, the wrist was pulled away from him. It took a moment to focus but he realized Lilith was still there leaning over him. She wasn't straddling him anymore, but she was there. He wanted to rip her head off but he couldn't move and there was a horrible throbbing pain in his neck. 
"I needed you to feel the betrayal before I could let you live. Do you understand?" Damon, with his head cloudy, just nodded the best he could, despite what felt like a gaping wound at the base of his throat. "This will be the last time I ever bring you back to life."
Damon inhaled because he was going to yell at her, call her the demon that she was, ask her where did she get off nearly killing him for some stupid mistake, she could've ripped something, lost control and killed him, and all to make a stupid fucking point? But as soon as he tried to speak, his throat burned, his whole body clenched, and nothing came out. 
Lilith looked him. "Your vocal chords were severed. You'll be able to move in a few hours, but it'll be at least a week until you can speak again. It's an interesting process to watch, really. It'll be a learning experience." She looked shocked for a moment. "Don't think I do this all the time." She paused. "But, it's the reason my brother will never dare touch me again." When she was gone from his vision his body fell into a deep coma.

When he woke up again it was dark outside and there were strong arms under his body helping him to his feet. He was confused but managed keep from falling. A young girl with short bobbed haircut had been the one to help him up. Several other women walked past them to the bed. The girl with short hair handed him a tall wine glass filled halfway, pink film sticking to the sides. 
"It's okay," she breathed quickly, "We're just changing the sheets."
It wasn't until then that Damon realized that she was a human. Probably a slave. 
"Continue your work," Lilith snapped from across the room. 
Damon lifted his arm, which seemed to take most of his energy, and brought the wine glass to his lips. He knew it was great quality because once it was down, it helped steady his head. Lilith was busy giving orders, so Damon tried to ask the woman how she'd gotten there. There was just a deep rumble and a flash of pain. His throat was fucked. Thanks a lot, Lilith. 
"Don't try to talk," the human whispered quickly.
"Don't you speak to him." Lilith walked over. The other women had finished changing the sheets and were lined up facing her direction, waiting for more orders. They all looked sick, their hair a mess, and they were all tired. "All of you, out. Now."
The humans were gone surprisingly fast and with no hand steadying him, Damon took a few steps back and practically fell back onto the bed. He lifted his hand to his throat and felt a huge scar running from ear to ear, like a smile. Fucking bitch. He should've killed her.
"How are you feeling?" Lilith asked. Like I want to kick in your face, or maybe set you on fire. But, there was no point even trying to speak and she didn't care about his anger. He just shook his head then wiped his face with his hands, trying to clear away the sleepiness that still clung to him. He wished he was dead. Wrong word. He wished he was gone from the earth. "Those types of wounds are slow to heal." Lilith sat next to him on the bed and Damon put her hand on his knee, and gripped it. Hard, but not enough to cause any pain. "I have someplace where I have to make an appearance. You have a good look, you know. You can be a good looking guy when you try to be. I'd like you to be on my arm, especially now since you can't say anything to embarrass me."
Damon narrowed his eyes.
"Damon, we're in it deep right now," She said. "I can't go alone, and I don't have my brother." 
Damon without thinking, asked, "Kris?" Or tried to ask, but nothing came out and pain exploded in his throat again. He decided that when he saw Kris again, he'd kick his ass. Disgusting, that's what the situation was between them. And the way they looked at each other, the time he'd walked in on them, it was all disgusting. It was wrong. But animals, they didn't care about things like that.
"No," Lilith said, interrupting his thoughts and taking her hand off of his knee. "You will not take your anger out on Kris. He's not even here. It's just you and me." She stood up and walked over to the dresser closest to the bed. "I brought you this turtleneck, Armani, and a pair of slacks. Black, of course. It's so classic." She held them up one by one. Damon couldn't care less. She laid them out on the other side of the bed. "This is a very important social meeting between two families. It's not going to be the way you're used to seeing us. There will be no bloodshed. Remember, you're there as eye candy only. Pretend that you belong there, that you've always been a part. Be a snob. Act like me. I'll be back in an hour." 
Damon nodded. He got dressed slowly realizing that he had known all along that there was something more between Lilith and Kris than just business associates. It sickened him when he thought about all the times that he can caught Kris giving Lilith admiring glances and jealous stares. Suddenly, his greatest enemy was Kris. He was the reason for everything. 
Damon knew he needed to rest so he laid down and slept briefly, wondering whatever happened to Luna and knowing that she was safe because Lucas and the others were dead.

Defeated. Michael Masaitis, the famous painter. He's Here. 
 Two Thumbs Up. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Luna kept bumping the back of her head against the door, one hand still on the knob, the other wading through bits of dirt and gravel from the sunflower welcome mat on the back porch. Mom was in Georgia, filling in for the director in some kind of funding meeting for the museum. Luna knew that, had hoped to get three days alone without having to explain to anyone why she was home. But she'd forgotten, it wasn't until the key was an inch from the lock that she remembered her Mom had changed the locks. Shit. Mom had lost her purse, changed the locks. Why hadn't she bothered to come by before then and pick the new key up? Mom had certainly wanted her too. Are you there, Damon? But she knew she was alone in the garden, sitting on the welcome mat, with the knowledge that there was no place for her to go but back to her apartment in the city, where she would soon die.

The lock turned easy enough. Luna let the door swing open and then stood in the doorway. She wanted to throw up. It was the ringing that finally made her walk inside, and then narrow her eyes when she realized the sound was coming from her bedroom. Closing the front door but leaving her bag in the living room, Luna followed the sound into her room and under the bed, next to those ugly brown shoes that were too comfortable to be cool, and next to the green foam frog flippers. She held it in her hands, the phone vibrating along with the music. Please, please Lord.  Her hands shook. She wasn't sure if it was his blood in her that made her answer, or the pressure of the incessant ringing. She thought it was the blood, felt him in there, just below the skin, and what she really wanted to do is cut it out of her somehow. 
"Where have you been?" Kris's voice was steady, calm.
She was losing her mind. "I went to visit my mother," she said. 
"I hope you told her goodbye." 
Why did he hate her? "She wasn't there." Luna stood up and started pacing, breathing deep. He was doing it again, trying to her take over, this time just by his voice.
"Will you come tonight?" He asked. 
Jesus. "No."
Kris paused. "Or I can come and get you. We can visit my winter home. Would you like that?"
Her eyes were overflowing and her contacts blurred. Lord, there's been a mistake. She was the one who wanted the house, the kids, the husband who comes home right after work and whose heart was still beating. "Please," she said. "Why are you doing this?"
"Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in exactly 30 minutes to pick you up. Pack a bag, and don't worry about the rest of your things. I'll make sure they're taken care of." He hung up.
Luna didn't press the END button, just threw the phone at the wall and watched the battery cover pop off. He was going to be angry. She just stood there, and she knew her mind was getting uncomfortably close to the point of numbness. Damon.  She was moving then, walking to the front door, grabbing her bag on the way out, trying to think how she could find her way back to Michael and Damon's. Lord knows it was time to come clean to him.
Luna hailed a taxi and as it pulled to a stop in front of her, a short black limo pulled up behind it. He'd lied, hadn't trusted her. She told the driver the street she was going to, hoping she'd be able to spot their building.  She did spot it when it mattered, and asked the driver to stop, paid him and sprinted through the front door. She looked back when she was at the foot of the stairs. The black car had pulled up and the back passenger's side door was opened.
Luna took the stairs two at a time and found that the apartment door was already open and Michael Masaitis, the famous painter, was sitting on the couch as if he'd been expecting her. Luna checked the hallway, they hadn't caught up yet. She turned to Michael and didn't know what to say.
"Come in," Michael said and Luna moved forward, closing the door behind her after double checking the hallway. Empty. Kris was waiting downstairs. "He's not here, Luna." Their eyes met. "You may as well give up. Kris will find you eventually."
Luna's mouth dropped. What was he? Definitely not as nice as she'd thought. And she had nothing to say to him. Luna left, sprinting down the stairs. From the landing she could see the black idling on the curb, the door was still open, but she couldn't see Kris. She knew she had to run, but before she could take a step, she heard her name being called.  Michael was leaning over the railing and calling down to her. She stopped.
"If you want half a chance, go out through the emergency exit under the stairs. The alarm is broken." 
Thank you Lord, an angel. "Thanks, Michael," she called. 
 Then, not wanting to spare another second, she ran around the stairs and pushed the back door open into the alley. No sirens. Michael was a good man. The screech and the headlights briefly lighting her path told her that they'd seen her duck around the back. Where was Kris? Why hadn't he ended the game yet?
Luna gasped when she came out of the alley and recognized the building across the street immediately. It was the Walker Bakery and Harvey lived with his mother right above it.  She just needed until daylight, needed to keep running until the sun came up, and then she would have 12 hours to figure out a plan. 
Luna ran across the street which had no traffic, another blessing. She caught the door behind a man in an overcoat so she didn't have to buzz up. Blessing two, thank you Jesus. No car yet, maybe she'd lose them. 
Luna didn't know what time it was when she knocked on the door, but there was no answer at the first knock, so she knocked again. There was no answer right away so she knocked again. She was jumping up and down, staring down the hallway, and she heard the creek of the peephole cover being bent back.  
Then the door opened a little bit and Harvey was squinting at her. "Luna? What are you doing here?" 
Luna gave him a fake smile. "Hey Harvey," she said, trying to sound as if she had just come by for a casual visit. She tried not to look behind her, but it didn't work.
 "What time is it?" He asked, looking back at some clock in his apartment. Then he turned back and he saw the look on her face. "Are you okay?" He looked down the hallway probably because she's done it compulsively several times since he'd opened the door. 
 "Can I come in?" She asked. He really had been sleeping, he was wearing a faded old Nintendo t-shirt and plaid green and yellow boxers.
 "Sure." Harvey stepped aside to let her in and Luna did her best to walk lightly. She didn't want to make his mother mad. Harvey looked down his own hallway and since no lights were on, he took her upper arm and led her to his room, closing the door behind him. He snapped on a desk lamp. "What's the matter?" Luna just shook her head and she knew she would start sobbing any moment. "It's that guy, the one with the black hair. Damon, right?" 
Luna paused and looked at him. "How do you know that?" 
Harvey shrugged, then stretched and yawned. "We had a talk. He told me about the two of you." 
Luna felt awkward and had a seat on his bed. It was still warm and there was a comic book upside down between the sheets. She shook her head. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I was just so scared and I can't find him, I'm so worried." 
Harvey remained standing. "Why are you here?" 
"I need a place to stay." The word was more like, hide, but she didn't want to alarm him too much. He looked a little hesitant so she continued, this time being truthful and letting a few tears escape. "Just one night." He looked at his hands and still didn't say anything. "Look Harvey, I'm sorry. I know I've been a jerk, but I really need your help. I'm in over my head, and there are people after me and I'm so scared. I don't have anywhere else to go. One night and I'll never ask you for anything again." She was begging now, maybe she should go all the way and just get on her knees. She couldn't go back out into the cold night again, and his room felt so warm and safe.
"Luna," he said looking into her eyes, "It's not that. We've been friends for a long time, so I want you to know that I'm not telling you this out of jealousy. But that guy is dangerous. You have to stop seeing him." 
Luna almost laughed out loud at this. Damon was dangerous? Kris was the one she had to worry about. She nodded. "Okay, Harvey. You're right." 
"You're a bad liar. But you can have the bed," he said, crossing his arms. "I'll take the floor." 
Unable to suppress the joy of a little protection for the night, Luna ran over and threw her arms around Harvey's neck. She held onto him for too long, she knew, but he was so warm and he was her savior, always had been. "Thank you, Harvey. I really appreciate this." Harvey was slow to pull away, and he looked away and sat down on the floor. Luna settled down on the bed and with eyes wide open, was reminded of Damon when Harvey snapped off the light and immediately started snoring. What did Damon do when he wasn't with her? She didn't know whether she should be concerned about his safety, too.
She was just starting to doze off when there was a knocking at the door. Harvey didn't move and before Luna could react, the door opened a crack and his mother's head was in the hallway. 
 "Harvey," his mother said in a normal tone of voice but it sounded like she was yelling in the silent apartment. Luna was in the fetal position with the blanket pulled up over her head, praying that his mother wouldn't flick the light on. 
 "Yeah, Ma?" Harvey asked, his voice muffled.
 "There's a man out here for you, a friend of yours, he said." Then she said in a softer voice, "You shouldn't invite your friends over this late." Luna shivered inside of the warm blankets. 
"Alright Ma, I'm sorry, I forgot," Harvey said but didn't move off the floor until she was gone from the doorway. He leaned over and closed the door. "Who the hell is that?" Harvey hissed, looking at Luna.  
"Is there another way out of here?" She whispered. Her heart was pounding. He was there.
Harvey shook his head. "No, and you're not going anywhere, Luna. No one's getting into this room." 
Harvey took a deep breath and left. As soon as the door was closed, Luna sat up and started putting her shoes on. It took her two attempts to tie the laces because her hands were shaking. Then, she walked over to the window and looked out.  No exit out to the fire escape in that room, his window faced the front of the building. Lord, please protect the people in the apartment. Luna opened the door and looked out. She couldn't see bodies, just shadows against the back wall. She stepped out into the hallway, inched closer so she could hear what they were saying. It seemed that they had stopped talking once she approached. 
Kris must have been able to smell her. "Come here," he said, calling over his shoulder. She walked into the threshold, shaking. Kris had his back to her.
 As soon as Harvey saw her, he narrowed his eyes. "Get back in the bedroom."  
 "I'll take my possessions and go," Kris said, turning back to Harvey. "And unless you want to die tonight, I suggest you be the one to get back in the bedroom." No one moved. Luna's instinct was to bolt for the door, but before she could even take a step, Kris spoke again. "I'm done chasing you, Luna. If you run, you'll be killing your little friend here." She was on the brink of sobbing but she tried to steady herself. She'd made it this far. Harvey's eyes told her to run, that he'd hold him off, but she couldn't do it to him. 
"I'll go," she said, glancing at the door again. "Just don't hurt him." 
 Kris turned around. "I thought you'd come around." Luna took a step towards him.
 Before she could realize what was going on, Harvey had grabbed Kris's head and pulled it back. Luna's mouth dropped and she couldn't comprehend what was going on. Once he let go, Kris dropped down onto the floor, crying in pain. His eyes were gaping red holes, and he looked like he was crying blood. Without thinking, Luna found herself throwing up on the carpet and she dropped to her knees. He had dug out Kris's eyes. 
Harvey moved past her and went back into the bedroom, leaving her alone with Kris, who was writhing on the floor. He seemed to lose consciousness about the same time that Luna stopped heaving, and he lay still on the carpet. Harvey came back into the living room and barely regarded the mess. He handed her two bags, one hers. 
Harvey didn't try to comfort her, just leaned over and grasped her waist, pulling her up. "Come on, you've got to stand up, I need your help right now."
Luna kept looking at Kris. She couldn't believe it. Mister Big and Bad was passed out on the floor. How hilarious. She almost laughed but caught herself, knowing that it would only come out like someone who'd lost their mind. 
Next thing she knew, Harvey was pushing his mother down the hallway with yet another bag in his hand, instructing her to stay with Aunt Mary two stories up until he came back into town. She was told not to enter the apartment for five days, and never after nighttime. Not until he got back. Harvey's mother took all of this in a way that told Luna's unbelieving mind that she'd been through it before. There wasn't even shock there, and blank eyes looked away from the blood on her carpet. She just walked out of her house and didn't look back.
While Luna waited, she watched Kris lay there, wanted to kick him but was too timid. Harvey came back and pulled at her wrist. She followed wordlessly and it wasn't until the elevator opened on the ground floor that she thought to ask Harvey where they were going. He ignored her, and instead of exiting out of the front door, he pulled her out to the back into the parking garage. She was like a walking zombie, scared out of her mind. There was no explaining to Harvey what had just happened. 
He led her to his old broken down car, unlocked the door on her side, cleared off the seat, and sat her down delicately. When he'd climbed into the driver's seat, he looked at her. "We're taking a road trip upstate. Over the bridge, where they can't follow us." Luna just nodded, not knowing what to say. He sighed. "Luna, I can see that you've gotten yourself into some trouble." He looked at her. "I'll help you, because you're my friend. But, things are going to change for you. You won't be able to just go back to your old life." He paused. "I mean, I don't know. We can assess the situation, but we may have to start over somewhere else." He wiped his forehead with his hand, and she saw the stress she was causing him. "I don't know. Let's get on the road and see what happens." He blew out air and shook his head and just sat there.
Luna leaned forward in the seat and cried tears that never felt so good. Harvey rubbed her back for a second, and then turned the car on.  One he'd pulled onto the street, he took his arm back. She was safe but exhausted, and she was asleep before the car hit the interstate.

Speak no Evil. See no Evil. 

When Damon entered the huge hall, the first thing that struck him was the smell of blood. It was flowing everywhere. From fountains shaped like antique silver angels, to chilled in punch bowls with bits of flesh floating on the surface. There were no live humans anywhere he could see, but figured that it was coming from fresh sacrifices in the kitchen, where it was easy to hose down afterwards. Humans were being harvested right on the premises. Damon thought about Luna and prayed that she was safe. 
The place she'd taken him to was really just a run down mansion. It had probably been condemned. There was no electricity, but huge standing candelabras lit the room. It was more like what he'd thought being dead would be, with the peeling gray wallpaper, dusty scuffed ballroom floor, broken down furniture, and cobwebs covering the walls, half of the furniture, all of the books in the library. But they'd brought in real crystal stemware and plates. It was creepy the way shadows darted across the walls. The building alone was enough to make Damon believe in ghosts.
Lilith smelled good, and Damon leaned into her. It felt good to have everyone turn when they walked in. She had arrived, the woman of the hour. People didn't stop and clap, but every single person shut their mouths and turned. Then, after everything had gone back to normal, Lilith had walked off to mingle and left him on his own. 
Damon walked over to the buffet. It was like some kind of banquet for cannibals. In the middle of the buffet there was an arrangement of white roses, and Damon just stared at them for a moment before turning away and swallowing. The people here were dressed to the nines, and it brought back a memory of his previous life, of release parties, young stars partying until all hours of the night. Snorting coke in the bathroom. Going back to someone's house to freebase.  Snack foods were traded for plates of raw bloody meat there.  He settled for a tall warm glass of frothy blood. The meat made him sick to his stomach thinking of Luna. 
The blood was very good, high quality, probably an athletic young adult. Bella Luna, Bella Luna, where are you? Stop it. He couldn't show weakness there. There was an odd mummer in the crowd. It was as if voices crept up to his ear, audible, but he couldn't catch any snippets of conversation so he found wall space and just surveyed the scene.
He spotted Lilith having a hushed conversation with a group of men seated at a group of four Victorian style chairs gathered in a half circle. Look at her, right over there with the big boys. She was something, alright. Why couldn't they have killed her? Damon walked out to the verandah, because it seemed deserted. He wanted quiet. It was an unsettling thing, not being able to talk. It was a sound to his right that made him turn, a sigh, and he realized that he wasn't alone, there was a couple of women having private time up against the wall, in between the potted bushes. His jaw dropped, and he took a step back. It made him uncomfortable, like he was a peeping tom. He needed to leave, but he couldn't move. He felt he'd walked into some kind of late night premium cable movie. Hands were beginning to roam.  It was the hands around his waist that made him gasp, but it was just Lilith. Just Lilith, it was like saying it was just the fucking devil. Just Satan, no big deal, relax. 
"Do you like that?" Lilith asked him, went around to his side and smiled up at him. Damon looked at the two girls, who didn't seem to notice their presence, or didn't seem to care. Damon just nodded with a smile beginning. Lilith leaned against him and pressed her lips to his. He let her, and started to pull her close when a voice interrupted them. 
"Excuse me." They both turned. It was one of Lilith's men, she being the only one at the party who'd brought her own security. Not a surprise. "Lilith," the man said, sounding nervous. Damon realized it wasn't the interrupting as much as the closeness that made the man nervous. Damon was sure the things she put her personal pet through were no secrets. She'd made an example out of him. "You've got to get home. It's your brother." 
Damon felt her body stiffen up in his arms. "What problems has he caused now?" The man only shook his head. 
Lilith pushed away from Damon and he followed. She met two other of her men on the way out but no one seemed to know what was going on. When they were back in the car, Lilith just sighed and sank back in the seat. 
"It was almost a good night," She said. Damon suddenly wondered if she missed the sound of his voice. "Are you sad?" She asked him. He shook his head. "You must think I'm crazy for depending on Kris so much." Damon raised his eyebrows and nodded again. It was all he could do. She shrugged. "It's easy to get what you want if there's someone else to do the dirty work." She smiled and her teeth were perfectly straight save the fierce looking incisors, and they were pristine white. "You know that I don't like to get dirty." 
Damon figured that they'd just reached the depth of Lilith's feelings. 

There were two cars parked out front when they pulled up. Lilith was at the front door before he could even get out of the car, she playing the part of the concerned older sister. He found her standing next to Kris, who was laid out on the dining room table. There were bloodstained towels and strips of gauze laid out everywhere. He had patches over his eyes. 
"What happened to him?" Lilith was asking the man hovering over the metal instruments. 
"He was attacked." The man responded with the authority of a doctor. Another amazing discovery, someone adept in the art of keeping the dead well.  
His sister's voice seemed to wake him up. "A human," Kris said. Damon could tell that he was seething inside.  It was a humiliating thing.
"A human did this to you?" Lilith had her arms crossed. "Was it the girl?"
"No, there was a man with her. He fucked with my eyes somehow."
 "Thumbs in the sockets," the doctor said, interrupting, "He was lucky that they were still intact, and not ruptured."
Kris's fists were clenched and his body seemed to be having tremors. Extreme shock to the system. Damon had the tremors while his body healed from the throat wound. "It was a defensive tactic, so they could escape." 
"Defense when his back was turned?" Lilith asked. She stuck out her bottom lip and nodded, as if she approved. She sat down in one of the chairs with her elbow on the table, facing the doctor. "Well, Doc will he see again?" 
He nodded. "Yes. No real telling how many days until he's back to normal, but full vision recovery is expected." 
"Thank you," Lilith said, to dismiss him. 
After a few moments only Lilith, Damon, and the blinded Kris remained in the room. 
"So," she said finally when they were alone, "You were attacked by a human." She made no attempt to hide her disappointment. 
Kris sat up and turned his head. His eyebrows were furrowed. "The issue isn't who injured me, it's the fact that this wasn't an accident. This human protected itself."  
 Lilith shook her head. "How do you know that for sure?" 
Even with patches on his eyes, Damon could see the annoyance on his face. "Human men punch other human men in the face. They don't try to take out their eyes while the other's back is turned." 
Lilith looked at Damon for confirmation. Damon nodded with his eyes raised, shrugged, then wondered what it would feel like to stick his thumbs in someone's eyes sockets. He wished he would've showed Luna that trick before she'd skipped town. 
Lilith sighed. "I guess I'll have to send someone to go back and see, then." She stood up. "Stay here, Kris. I'll send someone to take you up to your room." 
Kris nodded then lay back down with a groan. Damon wondered if thumbs in your eye sockets hurt worse than a slit throat. He followed Lilith out into the hall. She was talking to a few men by the door, giving instructions and ticking off things on her fingers. Damon waited impatiently. He was starving, the sun was getting closer and he just wanted to eat and go to sleep. He was just glad that the party had ended early. 
Damon looked at Kris still lying on the table. Yes, even with all of the pain he in, Damon still wanted to kick his ass. Fucking incestual pervert. Damon turned back when the front door closed, and found that Lilith had gone outside. She'd forgotten about him. Being silent had its advantages. 
Damon walked back into the dining room.  Kris heard him come in and sat up, just inches from the chandelier, thinking someone was there to escort him to his room.  Damon ignored Kris's outstretched hand and punched him in the face with enough force that Kris fell backwards off the table and hit a few chairs on the way down. Damon had to give it to him, Kris got back up immediately. 
"Who are you?" He snarled. Damon just smiled to himself and climbed over the table. Before Kris could move, Damon pressed him up against the wall, by the throat. Kris was trying to talk to him. Was he begging for his life? Was he apologizing for something? It didn't matter, because Damon bit into his neck and drank deep, until he had Kris's dead weight on him, and he let him fall into a heap onto the floor. He hoped the additional blood loss left Kris lying there forever.
Damon was wiping his mouth on his sleeve when Lilith came back into the house. She paused in the entryway and looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "What did you do?" She asked him. When he didn't answer, couldn't answer, she pushed past him into the room and found her brother on the other side of the table, passed out on the floor. Damon thought that she'd be angry, but when he looked at her face, he saw that she was laughing. It was the most relaxed natural laugh he'd ever heard from her. She took his hand and led him out of the room. 
 "You're so great," she said, lowering her voice so that her brother couldn't hear. She was still laughing. "I have someone on it. Let's go to sleep." 
They slept nude next to each other but Damon had no desire to touch her, so he rolled over and faced the wall. 

Dr. Walker. Bright light. A Misunderstanding Between Friends.

Luna woke up with the thump of the driver's side door. It had felt good to sleep, and Thank God for Harvey, or else she may not have been alive to see the bright morning. She yawned and stretched her arms. They were at a gas station, which was great, because she'd kill for some coffee. Harvey was at the pump, filling up. She got out of the car and stretched again, yawned. Harvey did the same, and Luna felt guilty that his clothes were wrinkled and the bags under his eyes were so deep that he looked sick and pale. Here she'd been sleeping like a baby. 
"Could you run in and pay for me?" Harvey's voice was hoarse and he looked like he was about ready to keel over. He pulled out his wallet but Luna shook her head. How nice could Harvey possibly get?
"I got the gas, Harvey. Do you want any coffee?"
He smiled, and Luna felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. She looked away. "That would be phenomenal," he said.
Four donuts and two cups of coffee later, Luna and Harvey were back in the car.
 "So, where are we?" Luna asked as Harvey started the ignition.
"We're in Blackwood, my dad lives out here. It's a small town, so we'll be safe."
Luna took a deep breath and put her head back on the headrest. "Thank you, Harvey. Thank you so much."
"Did you have nightmares last night?" Harvey asked. He was juggling the donut and the coffee while trying to drive. She took the coffee from him so it wouldn't spill on his lap. "Thanks. You looked liked you were crying, but I couldn't tell."
Luna felt her face get red and she looked out the window. "I don't know, don't remember. Do you think they might've followed us?" She asked, trying to see the cars behind them through the side mirror without having to be obvious and turn around in her seat. 
 "Not likely. Their kind can't cross over running water, so it's impossible for them to leave the city. And, even if they could, we sure as hell had a good head start." He changed the radio station from a sappy country song and glanced at her, sighed.  "It's not going to take long for them to figure out who my Dad is and where we've gone, but the lab is secure." 
Running water? She would've been safe at her Mom's house, if she'd been home. "Who's your dad?" Luna asked. She wondered why she'd never thought to ask before. She's never had a conversation with Harvey about his father. Maybe it was something Luna seldom brought up because her Dad had up and abandoned the family before she could remember.
"My Dad's actually a researcher at a government funded lab. Part of what they do there is study the kind of creatures that you've come in contact with. Anyway, they have great security. No one's getting in." 
Luna nodded and took a deep breath. Calm, calm. Thank the Lord she was still alive. No one's getting in. She trusted Harvey with her life any day. "Do you want me to drive for a while? You look so tired, Harvey. You should probably get some sleep."
He grinned at her and for a second Luna thought she could love him. Damon needed to find her. "Don't worry about it," he said. "We're almost there. I'm still running on adrenaline." He shook his head. "The feeling you have after a near death experience, you know? I don't think I'll be able to sleep until we're safe inside the confines of a secure government building."
Luna couldn't help but crack a smile. It wasn't funny, but she knew exactly how that felt. She'd been running on that for weeks.
Harvey glanced at her again. "Look, these people," he hesitated. He said people, but he hadn't meant people, had he? He'd meant monsters. "You just, you've got to get out of it. Get a clean start. Never go near those creatures again. You see them, you run. If one of them tries to talk to you, you run. Or come find me. But you can't take them on. They always win."
Luna nodded, held back the tears. "I'm sorry."
Harvey looked frustrated. "It's not," He paused. "It's not that I want you to apologize. I just, I want you to be okay. And I don't want to see you lost to them, or hurt, or dead. Because you know what they do, Luna. They eat us."
"I know," she said, her voice hoarse, and she cleared her throat. "I know, I understand." She paused. "I'm glad I have you. You're a great friend."
Harvey glanced at her. "I'd better be your best friend." He turned down a residential street. "Here we go," He said, "Casa de Walker." The house was a white bungalow style, and looked like it hadn't been kept up or seen a new coat of paint since it'd been built, circa the mid nineteen twenties. The paint was peeling, the driveway nothing more than dirt and gravel, and the grass looked like it would be halfway to their knees. "Sorry," he said.
Luna busted out with a laugh and was surprised that it was even possible. "It doesn't matter. As long as it's not my place and as long as we don't have any unexpected visitors, it's home sweet home." Neither of them made a move to get out of the car. "Is your Dad going to mad that you brought me here?"
Harvey shook his head. "No, he'll understand. He's work with them since before I was born. He'll help."
Still, Harvey made no move to get out of the car. "Then why are we still sitting here?" Luna asked.
Harvey's face got red. "I don't do this just any day. It's just weird to be here, you know? I mean, this is my worst nightmare. Not having control of the situation. Of being a target, of being hunted. I've known about them since I was five years old, and I've been afraid of this."
Luna opened her mouth to say she was sorry again, but she knew it wouldn't help. She closed it again, and put her hand on Harvey's. "Well, at least we have each other now." She felt a surge of guilt, knowing Harvey would've been fine had she not dragged him into it. "I know it feels better than being alone."
He nodded. "Come on. You'll like my Dad." Harvey got out of the car and Luna followed, stepping over the cracks in the pavement that lead up to the front door. "He tends to neglect things," Harvey said. He went up to the front door and started banging loudly and ringing the doorbell at the same time. "Heavy sleeper," he said over his shoulder. 
Luna smiled. She thought that she'd probably like his Dad. And, when the door opened and she when she saw an older, gray haired Harvey with a comb over open the door, rubbing his eyes, she felt hope.
He narrowed his eyes at Harvey as if he didn't recognize him, then put his open palm on his forehead and looked at him. "What are you doing here?"
Harvey didn't answer, just reached out and pushed the door open further, letting himself in. His father didn't say anything, just stepped aside to let Luna in as well. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, tight lipped, and closed the door behind them. 
"Something's happened, hasn't it?" Harvey's father asked, following them into the living room. It was dusty, and looked as if it hadn't received company in years. Harvey and Luna sat down next to each other on the couch. "Where's your mother? Is she okay?"
"She's safe," Harvey said, fingers intertwined, elbows resting on his knees. He was on the edge of the seat, and he looked embarrassed. "She'll stay put until I come and get her."
"Good," He said, and then turned to Luna. "I'm Dr. Walker." She shook his hand. "Harvey's Dad," he added. "Nice to meet you." 
"I'm Luna," she said.
"You two aren't married or anything, are you?" Dr. Walker asked, and crossed his arms. "Because I'm not sure that you two are old enough to be thinking about that yet."
Luna held back a laugh and looked at Harvey who had a smile on his face too.  "No, Dad, nothing like that. We came because Luna was being pursued by," Harvey paused and swallowed. "Well, you know what. I didn't know where else to go. One of them followed her to my apartment."
"Did you use fire?" Dr. Walker asked. "He's always been good with fire," he added to Luna.
"No, Dad," Harvey said, shaking his head and laughing. "No fire. Thumbs."
Dr. Walker nodded, and sat down on a stool by the counter across from the living room. "Thumbs in the eye sockets, that's pretty good. How did you leverage that?" Luna was amused that he was trying to get a mental picture, obviously proud that Harvey had put to good use the tricks he'd taught them.
"He had his back to me." Harvey looked proud of himself for a moment. "But Dad, that's not the point. Luna's in danger and I am too."
Dr. Walker shrugged. "There's always relocation, priest blessings, crucifix, salt and holy water."
"It's different," Harvey said, stopping his rant as if he'd heard it a hundred times before. "I feel it in my gut, this is different Dad. We had to get across water. So I came here."
Dr. Walker looked into his son's eyes for a moment and then turned away. "Yes, of course Harvey, I should've known better than to doubt your judgment. Do you think you were followed?"
Harvey shook his head. "No, we left them behind in the city."
Dr. Walker had a little smile on his face. "They have been known to withstand the water. It's excruciating, but I've heard of cases. Depends on how intense the desire. And if it was a situation where you feel you had to leave town, then there's no telling how crafty they could be."
Harvey looked at Luna, who purposely kept her eyes on Dr. Walker. She didn't want to think about the possibility. The doubt had settled under her belly and all she wanted to do was start moving again. "Maybe we don't know for sure," Harvey admitted.
"To be sure, we'll have to bring you to the safe place. For how long, I don't know. But if retribution is coming, it'll be soon or not at all." He shrugged. "It won't be the first time that I've slept at the office."  He stood up and stretched. 
"What time did you get home last night?" Harvey asked, following his Dad to the door. It didn't take him much preparation. He looked like a man who lived for his work.
The older man didn't respond right away, just closed and locked the door behind him. Then, he put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Make sure you follow closely. I don't want to lose you." 
When they were back in the car, Luna buckled her seat belt and then turned to Harvey. "You look just like your dad," Luna said, smiling at him. Thank the Lord for good people like the Walkers. 
Harvey gave her a crooked sideways glance. "Is that good or bad?" He seemed happier that there were three of them, rather than two. 
 She shook her head then felt embarrassed. "It's good," she said. It felt weird, like she was cheating, but she wasn't.  Damon wasn't there, no way that he could find her, and a good possibility that she'd never see him again. She'd have to work on getting her heart to stop aching. "So, this safe place, what is it?" She couldn't quite imagine a place that could keep Kris out. She reminded herself that Kris is blinded. It comforted her, to think of him in pain.
 "It's the panic room at the base. There's one in every building. Funny thing is that our government has known about vampires for decades and has done nothing to protect the American people, or people anywhere for that matter. I mean, in Europe the legends are more prominent and wide spread, and information is gathered just like in the states, but they do nothing, they just let their people die." He was quiet for a moment, and then seemed to remember what they had been talking about.  "The base is protected by armed guards, who have developed weapons over the decades that are very effective at killing the undead. I mean, think of how lucky we are that we have the most comprehensive facility in the country for the study of the walking dead right upstate." 
"Harvey," Luna said, leaning her head back. "It's a blessing that I met you."
Harvey's face seemed to turn red, but Luna wasn't sure because he looked out of the side window. "Luna, I'd do anything to help you."
Why couldn't thing have been easier? "It's just hard to feel that I'm worthy of that." 
He just shook his head and shrugged. "You're my friend." 
 "Well, Harvey, I'm glad I have you." 
 "Much better than that undead boyfriend of yours, huh?" Harvey laughed, but it wasn't genuine. It was meant as a joke, but Luna was hurt because she'd been thinking the same thing. "I'm sorry. That wasn't funny." 
 She shook her head. "No, you're right."  They had pulled up behind Dr. Walker's car, a late model blue Toyota, in front of a highly gated area after a long country road which contained at least six difference signs saying DEAD END. "So, this it?" There was a guard leaning down and speaking to Harvey's father. When their turn came, two guards leaned in both sides of the car. Luna rolled the window down.
"Luna and Harvey right?" The guard on the driver's side asked. He was tall and black, with a shaved head. Luna wished he was leaning in on her side because her guard was a middle aged hairy guy who looked right down her shirt. 
Harvey nodded. "Yes, sir."
The guard on Luna's side held up a little wand about the size of a pen and flashed a bright light directly into her eyes.  The pain was intense, and the glare blinded her even when she covered her eyes and started rubbing them. She didn't cry out when the light flashed, but she did when the door opened and a hand pulled her out of the car. She dropped to her knees, rubbing the tears that kept welling into her eyes.  
"Hey," Harvey said and Luna could hear him fumbling for the doorknob, "Let go of her." The guard on his side of the car pushed the door shut again. "Leave her alone," he said yelling at the other guard through the open window. 
Luna blinked her eyes but only saw the glare. The guard was picking her up by her upper arms, trying to stand her up. Dr. Walker walked up as the guard tried to pry her hands away from her face. 
"What are you doing to her?" Dr. Walker demanded. 
"Her eyes. You said they were humans." 
 "They are," He said, starting to protest, and then something dawned on his face. "What?" He came closer and put his hands on Luna's shoulders. She was breathing heavy and had her eyes closed, but the pain was gone. "Can I see?" She opened her eyes. Dr. Walker's eyes widened when he saw what was there, and Luna could hear Harvey gasp.  "What happened to you?" Dr. Walker asked her.
Luna knew she wasn't blind, but the glare still stung and she had no idea what they were seeing. "What is it?" 
Dr. Walker looked sad, like he pitied her. "You're eyes are green, kiddo." 
Harvey punched the steering wheel. "Fuck."
"You're in deeper than I ever thought possible," Dr. Walker said. Then, he seemed to realize that there was a line of cars forming behind them. "Let her in," Dr Walker said to the guard. "She'll be my responsibility." Then he thought twice after he had helped Luna into the car and slammed the door shut. "And don't tell anyone about this," he whispered fiercely to the guard as he passed by. 
The guard just nodded, looking shocked. 
As soon as she was back in the car Harvey lifted his head from the steering wheel and looked at her. There were tears in his eyes and with that look of disappointment in his face, Luna finally broke down and cried. 
"What happened to you?" Harvey demanded, and he sounded like he was about to hit her. Maybe his hadn't been sad tears, but tears of anger. Luna wanted to tell her story, but she couldn't talk through the sobs. "Did Damon do this to you?" She didn't answer and he seemed to be getting angrier the more he thought about it. "What the fuck happened to you?" His voice was progressively getting louder as he drove through the maze of buildings. "How could you let someone do that to you?" He looked disgusted. They pulled up in front of a building, next to the Toyota and Harvey turned off the car. They sat there for a moment, his hands still on the wheel, silent. Luna had calmed herself and she sat there breathing heavy and sniffling. How had she become such a bad person? "Do you think this is a game?" He asked her, his voice level. Luna saw that Dr. Walker had gotten out of his car and was waiting out in front of the building, trying not to blatantly stare at them through the windshield. "Did you think it would be fun?" Ouch. That was supposed to hurt, and it did. "If I had known that," he said, and then stopped. If he'd known, he would've turned his back. 
With that statement left hanging in the air, Harvey got out and slamming the door so hard that the car rocked violently. Luna didn't move or cry. She felt numb and suddenly could remember the glassy buffered feeling of the world on Zanax and wondered if her prescription had expired. Nothing like not caring.  Harvey walked past his father, who lowered his head to open the door.  
Tears clung at the rim, but she bit her lip, stamped her feet on the floor a few times, clutched the corner of her shirt in her palms and forced breath through her nose. Good, good, that was it. She wasn't losing it. After a deep breath, she was able to move again, found the strength to open the door, and the fear enough to glance behind her as the door of Dr. Walker's lab swung shut and cut short the daylight.
 "Welcome," came the voice of the doctor as her eyes began to adjust. His hand rested on a microscope, and he looked like a crazy professor in a B science fiction flick. "I'm sure that by know, you're aware of what we're studying here." Luna nodded and her eyes found Harvey on the corner of her line of sight. He was sitting low in a plush chair in the back, where a couple of chairs and a coffee table were tucked in as an after thought, to add some kind of semblance of human habitat. The lab was sterile, white walls, blue shelving, stainless steel counters. "Please, have a seat." Luna sat on a metal stool that vaguely reminded her of chemistry class.
Dr. Walker remained standing and cleared his throat, and Luna knew she was in for a lecture. "We've discovered that the vampire world, commonly known in this field as the species vampyre, is separated from the human world by a thin screen that acts almost exactly like a filter. During the day, light is refracted through the ocular lens at an angle that, combined with the colored filter structure of the veil, makes it impossible for our eyes to focus on the dead. My colleagues and I were able to develop contact lenses that allow normal humans to see vampires during the day by eliminating the light refraction and limiting UV rays to the eyes, similar to what happens when the sun goes down. That's why, at first glance, it's hard to tell whether or not someone is human. And why we weren't able to detect that there was something off about you, Luna. Now, I can see it written all over your face. It's the blood. It's in your movements, in your eyes, especially." His eyes stared for another moment longer and Luna thought it may have been time to tell her own story, but Dr. Walker turned his eyes away, opposed to his son whose eyes never reached her to begin with, and kept talking. "There are also other ways to tell vampires apart from normal humans, of course. If you shine UV light in their eyes while they're under the protection of the veil, their eyes will glow green, which is an indication of the eye evolution, the metamorphosis of the eye to the predatory gene that is inherent in all of us. The eyes will also turn green if the vampire is subjected to low amounts of UV light under the protection of the night." 
 "What about large amounts?" She asked, arms around herself because it was cold and breezy in the lab, like the air right before a bad storm.
 "Large amounts will cremate them." Dr. Walker smiled.  Luna nodded, but didn't smile back. She hoped that God would keep Damon away and that He would protect him. "What I would like to know," He continued, "Is how enough blood got into your system to turn your eyes, but yet your heart is still beating. And I know it is, because I checked for a pulse when the guard was trying to handcuff you." Harvey cleared his throat again, and both of them turned their eyes to him. Harvey held his father's eyes, and his jaw was gritted shut, and the tension in the room was clear. Dr. Walker turned back to her, time to change the subject. She wanted to speak but kept her mouth shut, forcing the thought to the back of her head that Dr. Walker now thought that there was a conversation that needed to take place between two lovers, first. "You'll be safe here," Dr. Walker concluded. Luna nodded again but never took her eyes off of Harvey. "There are guards on duty twenty four hours a day and weapons capabilities in every lab, so there's nothing to worry about." 
Her eyes finally snapped back to the doctor. "Has there ever been a breach of the main gates?" 
Dr. Walker gave her the same crooked smile that Harvey had. "You're the closest thing to a vampire that's freely entered these gates." 
Not funny. Luna squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. She used the pause in conversation to take a moment to tell her side of the story. "The reason that I'm like this is because," she began, and her voice sounded unnaturally loud to her ears, "is because Kris, the one who followed me to Harvey's, has been giving me injections of his blood several times. He wants to completely control me. I've told him no, begged for his mercy, but he still manages to find me, and bring me back." She let the tears well up, and she looked, not at her friend or his father, but to a spot right above Dr. Walker's right shoulder where the small basement window near the ceiling showed the last remnants of daylight. "That's why I ran, because my time was up, and he was going to kill me." Don't look at him. She had to be strong. "That's it in a nutshell. I didn't volunteer to be a science experiment. I thought," she paused and a tear rolled down her cheek. She was going to lose it again. "I thought that I could escape. I thought that I could run. I thought maybe he would get tired of me.  But I never told anyone because I was afraid of getting someone else killed. You know, might as well just accept it, right? And not drag my friends down, or get someone else hurt just because I had the stupid notion that it would be a good idea to go on a date with this cute guy and he turned out to be a fucking creature that wanted a subservient girlfriend. Here I am. The closest thing to a fucking vampire that you can get without being dead." She wanted to add that sometimes she wished she was, but shut her mouth. 
 There was a pause. "I think that sheds some light on some things." Dr. Walker said after a moment, walking behind his bench to another table where clip boards were piled up. Luna refused to look at Harvey. "Do you feel that those injections had his desired effect?" 
Luna couldn't help but smile. She felt better that it was out in the open, and she felt that Dr. Walker was the last person who would pass judgment on an emotional level. He was a scientist first, a human being second. "I'd say yes. For hours directly afterwards, I couldn't think of anything but him. I'd even forget names of people, and I just didn't care about anything." 
 "The blood acts like a virus once it's in our blood stream. Your immune system can fight it off, but eventually the disease will take over your body and it will die." 
Luna shivered in the cold room. Nice talk. At least she was listening to Dr. Walker describe it instead of experiencing it first hand. "How do you get your test subjects?" She asked. 
 "Well, when I said that no vampires have crossed these gates, I meant no civilian vampires. We do have test subjects." Luna nodded. Of course. Here was one conspiracy theory that happened to be true.
 Dr. Walker pulled out a little blue notebook from the pocket of his lab coat. "May I examine you? I don't think I've ever actually seen a case like this before." 
Luna stood up and walked over to him. His hands were cold when he took her wrist to record her pulse again. "The blood wears off after awhile, so I'm hoping that by long I'll be back to normal." With this, she glanced at Harvey, who had his chin in his hand, and his head was turned away. 
 "Pulse is a little low, as well as your body temperature." Dr. Walker pulled back her upper lip and looked at her teeth. "Teeth look fine. Have you noticed any abnormalities? Anything new you can do that you weren't able to before?" 
 "Just can't handle bright lights anymore," she said, her eyes tearing from the light he shone in them. 
 Dr. Walker clicked off his mini flashlight. "If I'd seen you on the street, I would've assumed vampire." 
 Luna swallowed. "I like to think of myself as living, thanks." The ground seemed to lose its stability, and she had to grip the counter. She managed to press herself into another stool without going out of the doctor's reach.  The sterile smell was getting to her, and she put her hand on her forehead. "How many people know about vampires?" 
 Dr. Walker was leaning over and looking into her ears. "Well, other than the typical legend? And not counting those controlled by them? Not many." He shrugged as he reached into his drawer for a syringe. Luna cringed. She hated needles now. "There have been attempts to persuade the government to do something about this epidemic but they won't even acknowledge it. They're funding our research here, but to anyone who asks, we test sleep patterns." 
 "Don't they worry about some kind of uprising?"  She asked. "Like if the vampires take over the humans, like they do in the movies?"
Dr. Walker was writing some notes in his book and smiled to himself. "First off, real life bares no similarity to the movies. Second, the president is just food like anyone else. You must know that if they wanted power, there would be no war. From what I understand, the vampires are too busy fighting amongst themselves to be much of a threat. They've have the whole history of mankind to make up their minds, its unlikely anything would drastically change now." He straightened up and stretched. "It also helps the president to sleep easy knowing that his personal body guards train here for two years before he even meets them." 
 "I'm hungry," Harvey said suddenly. He put down Popular Mechanics.
 "I'm sorry about my son's behavior," Dr. Walker said, crossing his arms and leaning back on the counter.  "It seems that I forgot to instill patience in him." 
"I'm sorry," Harvey said, and ran his hands through his hair, a sign that Luna recognized as extreme agitation. "It's just that we need to take a break." 
Luna swallowed and half hoped the doctor would say no. She was afraid to be alone with Harvey. Her nerves were shot, she didn't know if she could handle it.  
She looked away when Dr. Walker nodded. "Sure, how about I order us a pizza?" 
"Yeah," Harvey said, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. "That sounds good. I'll walk out to meet the driver at the front gate, and we can get some fresh air before we get too caught up in our interrogation."
Luna wasn't sure if she liked his word choice, and didn't know if she should be angry and defensive or afraid when the door shut behind them and they walked out into the air that was beginning to get colder by the minute. 
Luna knew Harvey wouldn't wait. "I'm sorry about what I said in the car," he said, and when Luna looked over at him, his eyes were on either on the ground in front of him or on his black leather boots. 
"Don't worry about it," she said, looking around and pretending that she was actually looking at her surroundings. She didn't know if he thought she was a liar or he really didn't care any longer. "It doesn't matter the reason. It's something we have to deal with." 
 Harvey seemed to find a hard time expressing himself. "I just don't want you to think that this was just a waste of time to me, because it's not. It's never even crossed my mind."  They were walking through the lawn and the smell of the pollen and flowers invoked a bright image of walking through the back of school property when she'd been skipping class. Harvey stopped and looped his arm around a huge tree, the bark clinging to his sleeve, and he didn't care. He swung around and stopped her.  
Luna's heart started beating faster, being so close to him, and she focused all her attention on the front of his shirt because she was suddenly aware of the fact that he wanted to kiss her. "I'm confused," she said. Did he get the point? She looked up at him, and his mouth was so close to hers that she wanted to step back. She didn't know if she'd see Damon again, but the last thing she needed was another man in her life. Even if he smelled really good, and he was something solid and comforting that she could hold on to.
Harvey laughed, which really just sounded like his throat clenching. "I noticed." He pursed his lips and then took a step back, and it seemed to Luna that they exhaled together. "The great thing about being lost is that it is possible to be found." He stepped past the tree and kept walking. "There's always hope, as long as there is life."
Life. Luna snorted as she followed behind him. 
"And here," he said, picking something from the front of his shirt and handing it to her. It was a pair of black slick Oakley sunglasses. "I know its dusk, but this would help avoid any more trouble." She smiled and took them from him.
"Thanks." She put them on her face, and then shivered, hugging her arms tight against her shoulders as they walked passed bushes whose branches were whipping back and forth. A storm was coming. 
"I have a sweater in my car. We can grab it on the way back."
"Harvey, you've known about vampires your entire life?"
Harvey shrugged. "For as long as I can remember."
"And you've managed to grow into a normally adjusted human being?" There had to be a catch. She'd known for a month and she was barely able to form sentences.
"I had a lot of nightmares as a kid." Harvey's shoulders were hunched and his hands were in his pockets. "I grew out of it. It helped being around them, understanding how to protect myself." Sad childhood, and she thought hers was hard, never having a Dad that cared about her. "Luna, I want to ask you something personal, that's none of my business."
Here it came. She could practically smell the jealousy. It was a stench that kept her from wrapping her arms around his neck and inhaling that cologne deeply. "Just ask. I won't answer if I don't feel comfortable."
Harvey took a deep breath. "I don't want you take this the wrong way, but I just really want to know what it is that you see in Damon. Okay, I get that this other guy Kris forced you. But Damon hasn't done anything to help the situation."
 "I didn't choose them, they chose me."
"So then where does this other Kris guy come into the picture?"
"You're not going to believe this, but you're looking at the girl who has the worst, most absolute horrible taste in men. It's bad luck. I met two cute guys, within a week, who happened to be vampires." 
"And now they're fighting over you?" Harvey said, rhetorically.
"There's no fighting," Luna said, disgusted. "I've managed to keep it a secret. Why? I don't remember anymore."
"You wouldn't let Damon help you." He shook his head. They were approaching the front gates. 
She knew what he was thinking, that now she had to turn to him, that's what all that vampire nonsense led to. That's what all that love crap got you. Forget passion. Let's settle for the man who'll be nice to me. "Have you ever known any of their kind? On a personal level?"
Harvey's eyes were on the gate they were approaching. "What personal level?" He glanced at her.  "Damon was the first I'd ever talked to outside of a lab environment. He seemed okay. He didn't kill me."
"Damon's a nice guy," she said, knowing that it wouldn't make much of a difference.
"He's an animal," Harvey said, putting a hand on her arm before they came up to the security office, to stop her, which she did. 
 "An animal would've killed you," she said. He grimaced but continued walking and chose to ignore her comment. She watched him walk to the gate to get the pizza and hugged herself harder, hoping he'd be quick because the sun had almost set and the sunglasses made it harder for her to see anything. "Do you want me to give you some money for that?" Luna asked, reaching into her pockets when he came back within earshot. 
"Don't worry about it. I owe you one for being a jerk to you in the car." Luna didn't say anything otherwise, and walked along next to him, taking a short cut through the grass, to a lighted area next to the parking lot that had a picnic table. 
"Do you need any help?" She asked.
He shook his head. "Do you plan to keep your promise when you told me you wouldn't see him anymore?"
Luna hesitated and then smiled the kind of smile that she reserved for subjects that could easily make her cry. "I'm not sure I'll have a choice about that one."
Harvey had his answer and they walked in silence. The smell of the pizza made her stomach rumble but she was getting used to it now. Her stomach always felt empty.
"My Dad hates being interrupted once he gets to work," Harvey said as stood over the picnic table, "And I'm tired of talking about vampires for now." 

A Pretty Girl.

Damon was already sitting alone in the car when Lilith finally joined him. It hadn't been a bad wait. He's flipped through the channels on TV, located the DVD player and tried to guess Lilith's password on the laptop that was sitting in its custom table and docking port next to the mini bar. It hadn't been DAMON, DAMON 69, or DAMON SLAVE. Not even KRISASSHOLE, or the variation, ASSHOLEKRIS. Damon turned off the TV when she sat down in the soft leather, but sighed mentally when three other men entered after her and closed the door behind them. From experience, he knew that they were all boring and all had their heads collectively shoved up Lilith's ass.
"Ok," Lilith said with a sigh, and she really did look bored, even when she was on the verge of battle, something he'd picked up on before she'd left him alone in their suite to later be collected by some 18 year old servant boy who'd come up to retrieve him like some piece of matching Louis Vutton luggage. "Here's what I know. The apartment had a rental contract with a Lucille Walker, additional resident listed as one son, a Harvey Walker. A short internet search later and we find the next closest relative, a Dr. Arnold Walker, who lives upstate and just happens to work for a government funded lab that is publicly researching sleep patterns, but privately testing anti vampire arsenal. This lab poses no direct threat to us as it has been in existence for the past 60 years with no adverse effects on our way of life. There are however, a few vampires that are being held prisoner there. I, considering these circumstances, suggest that we burn it to the ground." 
 There was a chuckle and all three men smiled. Damon swallowed and scratched behind his ear. 
 "Yes Ma'am," said the one with long curly hair who would have reminded Damon of Howard Stern had he not been wearing Cops sunglasses or had any semblance of humanity in his eyes. "Excellent."
 Lilith loved the response, she smiled. "I'm not concerned with retaliation. They're humans, how much harm can they do? Also, there will be no feeding from this moment on. I want my army to have worked up a hunger by the time we arrive. My brother has his heart set on this little human girl so I'd like to take her alive. He's certainly earned it." She dug into a small red book that she had in her hands to pull out a picture. "Since Damon's useless, I'll make that his job."
Damon smirked at her, and feeling the other men looking, pulled the neck of his turtleneck higher as he took the picture out of her hand. No voice, no respect, that's how it was working out. His eyes widened when he recognized the two people in the picture. For a moment the bottom dropped out from under him and all he could see was that pretty face. There was Luna, his Bella Luna, sitting on a rope swing, and she's smiling into the camera, holding on with both hands and Harvey is behind her, holding the rope steady. Sweet picture. He resisted the urge to tear it up, just closed his eyes and put it down next to him on the seat. Lilith was still talking but Damon was piecing things together, realizing that he'd known if he'd just sat and thought about it for a moment, and how he'd been too stupid to put it all together and save the only thing in his life he ever really cared about.
 "Any other humans," Lilith was saying, "I don't care about. Just torch the place and try to keep the survivors to a minimum. It'll be the perfect follow up to our last attack." Everyone nodded. "All right. That's it. Brief your men and we'll be on the road shortly." 
The three men left then, and Damon was able to grab Lilith's leg before she could follow after them. She sat back down but didn't close the door. "I wanted to say goodbye to my brother."
Damon shook his head and leaned past her to close the door. He was tired of sharing his women with Kris. He was going to his Bella and he was set on leaving. 
"You're jealous, aren't you?" She asked, and it pleased her. Damon did his best not to show any emotion. He just rolled his eyes and tapped his wrist where a watch should've been. Lilith looked at his face closely. "You can't speak yet?" He shook his head. The pain was better, but his voice consisted of a series of grunts. Lilith leaned over him to bang on the inside of the screen that separated them from the driver. Her breast brushed against his arm, and he inhaled the scent of blood. She knew what she was doing because she paused there a moment, glinted her lip gloss in his direction and then sat back. The car pulled away from the curb and Damon was satisfied with his small win. "You're healing very slowly," Lilith said, turning back to him, but he wasn't there with her anymore, he was beyond there, wondering how in Hades he'd be able to not only track Luna down before anyone else did, and escape with her. Now that he knew why they wanted her alive, he'd have more control. 
Damon's eyes focused on Lilith because she'd found the picture on the seat and picked it up. "She a pretty girl," Lilith said, flicking the paper with a long fingernail. There could've been a million reasons why she studied his face closely after she'd said it, but he ignored it because she was impossible to predict. "Maybe you wouldn't be able to control yourself." Damon just shrugged although the thought of not controlling himself made the back of his ear itch again. "Would you like me to tide you over?" She asked him. 
The woman knew her strengths. Damon pounced. He was an animal, but still a man, and he was able to ignore her sigh when he bit into her neck, thinking of his love, and he was able drink deeply. After he was full, he sat back in the seat and cleared his throat, licked the cold blood from his lips. All that came out from his throat grumbling, but the pain was gone. Maybe just a couple more days of silence. There were alternatives. He picked up a pen that was on the seat next to Lilith's notebook and while he wanted to pick that up too, he knew she'd just snatch it away. So he picked up the small stack of Manila file folders, wondering if Lilith was a member of the Office Depot frequent shopper club. 
Any rivers I should know about? He wrote, and then held the folder out for her to read.
"Nope, not one." She said, and crossed her legs, looking at him like she was waiting for him to start entertaining her.
Am I really worthless to you? He wrote and then held it out again. She smiled, and then Damon felt the familiar feeling slip over his head. That was his drug. He loved that glint of white he saw between perfect pink lips.
She tugged the file folder from his fingertips. 
Yes. Her script was cursive and elaborate. His, glorified chicken scratch. 
Why do you want me? He printed underneath.
Lilith shrugged and held the folder on her lap, tapped it with her pen. Women like to cuddle. 
Damon sat up straight and took a deep breath, forgetting for a split second that he was mute, and then reminded himself a brief moment before he even attempted to speak. He wrote: Cruel women like to cuddle?
Yeah, right.
Lilith took the file back but just held it. "Maybe just control, then."
Damon caught his laugh. He hunched over, trying to keep from laughing out loud. Control, yes control. He hoped she'd die.
"I like you better silent," she said.
 Damon leaned over and kissed her, bit her lips. He felt the same.

Jeremy. 

When they got back to the lab, Dr. Walker was busy looking under the microscope at what Luna assumed was her blood sample.
"Hey Dad," Harvey called out, and held the pizza box over his head. "We have some pizza here with you name all over it." 
 His father looked up and smiled. "You two look in better spirits."
"Hungry?" Harvey asked. His father shook his head. Harvey had a seat on a stool right next to Luna and as uncomfortable as she felt, she didn't move away. She knew it was within her best interest to act pleasant with the whole situation. She was interested in what Dr. Walker was seeing in her blood sample but thought it better to just keep her mouth shut of the whole situation and keep the mood light. "How long do you think we'll have to stay here?" Harvey asked.
Dr. Walker shrugged but didn't look up this time. "I don't know. It's likely that Luna may never be able to go back. Does she have any family?"
"My Mom. She'll be back in a couple of days from a business trip." Luna said, trying not to think about how simple it would be for Kris to track her down there.
"I can send your things when I get back," Harvey said, but there was no hope in his voice. He seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Luna nodded, and played along but it was getting harder and harder for her to breathe. Was she having a panic attack? 
Dr. Walker made a few notations and then stood up. "Your mother's okay, isn't she?" He asked his son.
Harvey nodded. "Yeah Dad, she's fine." His voice was weak and sounded like the same kind of rehearsed answer that Luna told her Mother.
Dr. Walker nodded and stared off into space for a moment. Luna glanced at the pink slide in the microscope. "Do you see anything that I should worry about?" She asked, wondering if evil was the same as cancer.
He frowned and shook his head. "I see the virus present in your blood stream, but your immune system seems to be holding it off quite well. As long as you don't receive anymore injections, and there's no reason to believe that you will, your body will recover. Whether or not you will retain any vampire characteristics remains to be seen."
Luna nodded. Pretty good news. She looked at Harvey, who nodded too. She leaned up against the counter. "So, you guys have vampires here?"
Dr. Walker seemed to perk up. "Yes, we actually have one animated test subject in custody. Would you like to meet him?"
"Animated?" Luna hesitated. Strange choice of words, Doc.
Harvey stood up. "My Dad hates to refer to them as alive in any way."
She smiled and looked at the older man. "I don't blame you."
"It's about his feeding time anyway," Dr. Walker said as he led them to a door in the back of his lab. "This half of the building is more commonly known as The Kennel."
Luna saw the grin on Harvey's lips. It was how he approached every disturbing thing in the place. He's grown up around it, it was his reality. That's the part that was sad. How had he learned to sleep normally?
Dr. Walker slid his ID card into a slot next to a door in the back of the lab, and led them down a long white corridor that held an abandoned receptionist desk and waiting area chairs. "Is this place usually so deserted?" She asked.
Dr. Walker half turned to answer. "An associate and I run these two buildings almost exclusively. He's on vacation right now, which is why it's a bit quieter than usual. Most of my work is done alone, so for me, it's a solitary day. Most of my colleagues work on the other side of the site testing weapons." They'd come to a small desk that held a guest book. Dr. Walker signed it, and swiped his ID card. "That's where most of them are developed. My responsibilities have dwindled in my old age to analyzing research and taking care of Jeremy.  I'm the one person who's been here long enough to develop any kind of working relationship with him."
"His name is Jeremy?" Luna asked.
"Jeremy," Harvey repeated over this shoulder, with a smile.  Luna understood better as soon as they walked into the room. It was divided in half by the kind of thick plate glass that they had in contemporary zoos. It made her feel like she'd walked into a side show. She'd expected to see a padded cell, but on the other side of the glass was a small cozy bedroom with blue walls, an extra long dorm room bed, and bookshelves. There was a TV on a dresser in the corner but it was off. 
The man sitting on the bed looked around Luna's age, European and thin, and was wearing blue jeans and a striped flannel shirt. He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. He looked gentle to her, and she reminded herself that her compassion was the essence of her problem. 
"I was wondering when you'd come to see me Doc," Jeremy said. "I've been a bit lonely today."
Dr. Walker didn't acknowledge him, just raised his hands to indicate every corner of their transparent barrier. "The glass is covered in the same filters used to manufacture the contacts we wear. It helps us to keep track of the specimen no matter what time of day."
The vampire pretended to just notice their presence. "Oh, and it seems that you've brought the specimen lunch."
Dr. Walker laughed and Harvey grinned. It seemed that Luna was the only one who seemed alarmed. "Jeremy, you should know better than that by now." Dr. Walker looked at Luna, and then reached into a cold storage locker to pull out two deep red blood donor bags. "Meet the reason for blood drives. Jeremy has quite an appetite." He put the bags in a bin that slid both ways through the slot.
"You didn't explain to the young lady why it is that I don't just break this glass and walk out of this place," Jeremy said. "Your nasty little trick." When Dr. Walker didn't begin right away he said, "I don't want her to think that I'm helpless."
Dr. Walker shook his head. "Just salt boundaries. Not much science. More like voodoo, but it works."
"Superstition," Jeremy said. "Just superstition. But yet you humans study the science of salt sifting, don't you? And Doc, I'm sure you've been known to throw it over your shoulder on occasion, as well."
"Enough," Harvey said, short and to the point. Even Luna jumped. She looked at him. 
"Hello, Harvey," Jeremy said. "You're looking well."
"Thanks," Harvey said, and crossed his arms.
Luna was glad that the room didn't smell like blood, just that non-descript new car smell that seemed to signify a sort of sterility. She still wanted to leave, couldn't stand Jeremy's non-blinking stare. And the glass barrier reminded her that he was an animal, not five feet away, who was retrieving his meal, and he was hungry.
"You never cease growing, my boy. I look forward to watching you die." Harvey's smile never wavered.  "Who's the lovely young woman?" Jeremy asked, as he sat back down and began to bite the top off the bag. 
"A friend." Harvey said.
"They do experiments on him?" Luna asked in a low voice, leaning over towards Harvey. 
"The answer to that is yes," Jeremy said, without missing a beat, "They seem to think that just because my body heals quickly and doesn't scar means I can't feel pain."
Dr. Walker. "Whether or not they can feel pain has not been proven."
Jeremy's face never showed any emotion. "You would think that my screams would be proof enough."
"I think I'm done," Luna said, turning her head. She was seeing Kris in him. 
"Don't leave so soon, sunshine," Jeremy said, walking up to the glass. "I thought we could have a talk here. I'm curious as to how you're practically one of my kind, but I can still hear your heart beating from here." Luna couldn't tear her wide eyes away, and couldn't swallow the lump in her throat. "Oh, and relax. I can't get out of this cage." Luna opened her mouth and turned to Dr. Walker to announce that she'd wait outside, but Jeremy started talking again. "Don't act like you're unaware of the change in you. If you were to somehow break your pretty white neck right now, I wouldn't be surprised to find you an hour later you'd be scouring the building for Harvey here, to suck dry." Jeremy laughed out loud while Luna left the room. 
She stood out in the hallway for a moment, waiting for Harvey. He came out a moment later, and put his hand on her shoulder. "Sorry about that," Harvey said. "He's an ass."
"I think I need some fresh air," Luna said.
"Yeah," Harvey said, taking his hand away and scratching his head. "Let's go outside.  My Dad will be in there a while, visiting."
"Nice," Luna said softly. 
Harvey snorted and looked at her. "Not exactly your normal family, am I right?"

"I don't get the salt thing," Luna said, once they were outside. It was cold, branches swaying in the wind, and it looked like a storm was coming. She'd lost track of the time and was surprised to see the orange tinge to the sky that melted into teal. A sort of color red gradient that made the old Luna want to paint. It made the new Luna terrified of the dark. "Why would salt keep him in?"
Harvey shrugged. "I don't think they know why, but the origin of it dates back to the eighteenth century, I believe. I mean, I know there's something about Judas spilling salt at the last supper, and throwing salt over your shoulder when you spill it is pretty common too. It's sort of like on the same lines as them having to be invited into your home. Pouring salt around a home is supposed to keep the evil spirits out. That's all I know. Somehow, through their research, they discovered there was some merit to that old wives tale."
Luna's mind was beyond that, and she couldn't force herself to focus on the topic she'd started. She kept thinking about what Jeremy had said about her, how the blood was so obvious in her. "What I want to know is why, if it's so easy to see the blood in me, then why couldn't Damon see?" Just saying it out loud made her break down, and she covered her face as they stood there on the side walk in front of the non descript, unmarked building. Oh, Lord, why was she such a cry baby?
Harvey considered the question seriously, which was the most compassionate thing he'd ever done for her. "Maybe he just didn't know what to look for."
Or he didn't care. Luna suddenly thought she'd vomit. She held onto the doorway, just in the threshold of Dr. Walker's lab, and lowered her head. 
"Are you okay?" He asked her, and rubbed her back. She looked up at him. Nice. She nodded. "You know, your body is using a lot of energy fighting that virus. You're not going to feel right for a couple of days. You should try to take it easy."
Luna nodded but didn't move. It was at that moment, with her eyes closed, that the explosion hit.

A Successful Night. Where's the Body?

Lilith reached out and slid open the screen that separated them from the driver. "Slow to a stop before you reach the gates," she said. "Let's let the boys go on ahead and blow the hell out of it." Damon felt anxiousness growing in his belly, tapped his hands against the seat, and looked out at the compound. Then, he pulled out his silver lighter and buffed it on the corner of his black shirt. He knew that his body craved the same blood and violence that the others did. And he hoped that he'd be able to see Harvey, and kill him. He didn't know why, other than the fact that the guy gave him an attitude, and Damon didn't like the way that he looked at his girl, and the fact that they'd managed to escape together. The picture had hurt. There would be an end to that friendship, soon.
 "You're going to have to try to find the girl as soon as possible. There's no telling what will happen if one of my men gets theirs hands on her," Lilith said, flicking the picture across the seat at him. It fell on the floor and he picked it back up, wiped it on his shirt too, and nodded.
Once the main gate came into their sight, the van carrying Lilith's men passed them and sped up towards the entrance.
"Watch this," Lilith said, as their own car pulled up. Damon leaned forward, and watched through the front windshield, over the driver's shoulder, as the van barreled towards the entrance showing no signs of stopping. Then, all at once, there were men jumping out from all sides, falling and rolling out onto the street and in the grass, pulling their arms over their heads and bracing themselves. Damon was surprised that the windows of their car didn't blow out with the force of the explosion that followed. "Let the violence begin," Lilith said in the aftermath. 

Dr. Walker rushed out of Jeremy's prison and stood there with the door still open. "What was that?" Harvey demanded as they burst through the door into his lab, as if it were his father's fault, like he was playing the most horrible and insensitive trick he could think of on all of them. Dr. Walker didn't respond, just looked passed them as if the lab would give them an answer. It was the alarm that sounded like an air raid siren that shook her most.  From where she stood, facing Dr. Walker, she could see over his shoulder, and there was Jeremy jumping up and down, clapping. 
Luna clutched her stomach but knew this was the worst time to be sick, and swallowed before she spoke. "They broke in?" She said. She needed confirmation before she'd panic. Please Lord, let it be anything else.
Dr. Walker's eyes were wide and his jaw slackened. "There's been a breach of the main gate."
Luna wondered again why she'd even bothered trying to escape Kris. She's should've lay down and died like he wanted her to.  She should've ended it the only way that was final. Before she could even consider her options, Harvey grabbed her upper arm and pulled her out of the building. 
Luna couldn't see the fire, but she did see a billowy cloud of smoke from where the gate entrance was. The night was dark enough and now the smoke covered the moon. Luna's felt faint and she bit her lip. Harvey, who'd seen enough, pulled her back into the lab. "They got in," Luna mumbled, but Harvey didn't say anything, just held her hand and led her back to the door that led to Jeremy's prison. They walked down the hall to the door beyond the secretary's desk with Dr. Walker following.
Dr. Walker swiped his badge on the side of the door and it slid open. "This is a secure place," he said as he walked into the corridor and down a flight of stairs. Harvey followed, pulling Luna behind him. She was breathing so hard that Harvey looked at her and pulled her to a stop on one of the landings. Dr. Walker continued on ahead and they were alone. "Hey," Harvey said, and caught her eyes.  "You need to relax. It's going to be okay. They can't find us."
Luna let herself bawl then, and grabbed the front of his shirt, burying her face in it. He put his arms around her and rocked her a bit, rubbing her back, until she stopped. They heard Dr. Walker call up from some place down below. "We need to get into the secure room." 
Harvey pulled out of her grip. "Let's go," he said, and held her hand again. Lord please bring her a man as kind as Harvey when it was all over. 
They came to another door where Dr. Walker was waiting with his hand poised over the big red button that seemed like the only way to open the door. "Close your eyes," he said to her.  Luna did as she was told, but still felt the heat from the stadium size lights when they glared on before the door would slide open. 
"It's alright," Harvey said a moment later and when she opened her eyes, she saw that they were in a small bomb shelter. Once they were inside, the door slid shut behind them and she was able to take a deep breath. The stale air was more comforting, made her feel less exposed, and she couldn't hear the confusion outside anymore. She sat down to pray.

Damon stood next to the car, waiting for the fire to subside. The other vampires were rising from the places they had landed. Lilith touched his arm. 
"The site is booby trapped. Cross the veil, and stay that way. I know it's uncomfortable but they're counting on you to not be able to sustain it. They're going to be able to see you, there's no getting around that. But, if your distraction waivers, you'll easily slip back across. Harvey's father works in building 7B, which is on the west side of the compound," Lilith said, pointing to their left and he followed the shining twinkle on her diamond tennis bracelet. "The others have their individual assignments in addition to a deadline of thirty minutes to bring down the compound. They're pretty accurate, so be fast. The idea is to get in and get out before the higher powers have any idea what's going on." Lilith came close and pulled him by his jacket collar, closer to her face. "Be careful, Damon," she said. 
He just smiled at her and pulled her towards the gate, a battle made for lovers. 
"I'm not going in there," Lilith said, pulling against him and stopping him short. She shrugged.  "What about my hair?" Her carelessness enraged him. 
Damon kept walking without her, knowing that he was better off. Only piles of bricks survived from the main gate. He stepped over a few bodies and saw people running towards him holding semi automatics. His body pulled and he gave into the veil, letting it cloud over his eyes in order to walk through the smoke and the bullets along side his fellow undead. 
One of Lilith's men, not anyone he recognized, burst into white flames and fell to the ground. He stepped over the fallen, making his way west just like Lilith had instructed, and towards building number seven. He moved on the grassy lawn, away from the group of vampires walking head on towards a Hummer. He ran west as quickly as he could, ducking through an alley and following in line close behind a group of men who seemed to want to be in the same place that he did. It seemed as if maybe some others had heard Lilith's words. 
Damon didn't know how he'd be able to communicate with his Bella, but he knew he had to push past them eventually. The men, including one who Damon recognized that had huge steel hoops through his ears and was high up in Lilith's rank, busted in the door to building 7. The men ahead of him knocked over tables, and trashed the lab. Others, wearing backpacks, headed to the corner doorway. It was all too planned. He followed the sound of a smaller explosion to another door and a longer hallway that looked like an office but had been deserted. He could smell the fire from outside, and hear the confusion, but it was the air raid siren he could've lived without. Besides, anyone who wasn't aware that there was a breach of the gate by then was probably already dead. He saw some of the men head into a separate room, but he stayed close to the head guard that Damon had noted, who'd just gotten a card entry lock to open with equipment from his backpack. They all piled into the corridor, and Damon was left on an upper landing when the door downstairs slid open and all the men within viewing distance were disintegrated in an instant. 
Damon felt the heat, and was curious about the whoosh sound, but waited until the heat was gone before he jumped the rest of the stairs and turned the corner. He hadn't really thought that it possible for one of his kind to actually catch fire solely from UV light. It was too science fiction for his taste, but there was a veil for a reason. He heard the hammering heartbeats before anything else and the first thing he saw was a man in a lab coat pointing a gun at his face. Damon froze and didn't know what to do. He was still on the other side the veil but the look on the man's face was so serious that he wondered for a minute whether or not he could actually hurt him.
Damon took a step forward and the man's finger tightened on the trigger. He couldn't see anyone else in the room, the doorway was too narrow, but his ears told him that the man wasn't alone. He could smell perfume and it was driving him crazy. Was she in there?  "This gun contains silver bullets," the human said, "Which, if you don't know, can severely wound a vampire even if he is crossed over the veil, which you are at this moment. Put your hands up."
Damon put his hands up but took another step forward. His memory was confirming what he'd thought. That scent, it was her, and she was scared out of her mind. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. There was another moment where neither of them moved and then there was a gasp and the lovers spotted each other over the doctor's shoulder.  
Damon couldn't help but let a smile of relief loose on his face. 
 "What are you doing here?" She cried out, and the man in the lab coat turned to her but didn't lower the gun.
 "Do you know him?" Dr. Walker asked her. "Is this the man who's been holding you against your will?" The man looked like he'd enjoy blowing a silver bullet through Damon's brain.
Harvey's voice behind them answered for her. "No, that's her boyfriend."
Damon dropped his hands at his side and moved towards Harvey with every intention of ripping his limbs off. Dr. Walker saw the look in his eyes and his finger went right back to the trigger. "Stop right there." 
"Please, don't shoot him," Luna said to him, "He's okay, he won't hurt us."
Dr. Walker still looked suspicious but lowered his hands. "Well, come in, then. We need to shut this door." Damon put his hands down and Luna pulled him into the bomb shelter.
"What are you doing here?" She asked him. Damon could only grunt and her eyes narrowed. "What happened to your voice?" He was very aware of the other two men in the room, but pulled down his turtleneck, showing her the scar. She gasped and tried to put her fingers on it before he pushed them away. "What happened to you?" She asked, but closed her mouth. Damon could only shake his head.
Dr. Walker had been watching the little exchange and turned to press the button and close the door just as a hand closed over his wrist. Before he could turn to see who it was, another hand had closed on him and someone else came from behind and took hold of Harvey's arms. They almost snuck up on Damon, but since he had Luna's hand they stayed back and let him keep charge of her care.  
In one smooth movement, Damon had pushed Luna behind him, as if for some reason he thought that they hadn't seen her. The leader of the group, a greasy looking guy, turned his attention to him. "What are you doing here? Damon pulled Luna out from behind him and held her arm up, like a trophy. The man looked between them. What else could he do? It must've been common knowledge now that Damon was mute. The man grinned at him and continued as if he hadn't actually expected Damon to speak. 
 "Well, Lilith wants them all now," Greasy said. Damon nodded and tried to look relaxed. "You got her?" The man asked, nodding towards the door. Damon broke into a grin and nodded. This seemed to help the guy relax. "Yeah, I heard about you. Shit, I know you've got to have balls to sleep next to that one every night," He said, laughing out loud and clapping another guy, who was also laughing, on the arm as they made a bee line for the door. Damon held back until the other men were gone, and he didn't care about the other two humans as long as Luna was all right. He turned to her, wanted to tell her everything, how he knew now why she was scared and why she left, and how he'd take his revenge on Kris now that he could see just how much pain she was in because her face was pressed into his shoulder, and she was sobbing. 
He felt himself taking back every bad thought, and realized how stupid he'd been to think that she just didn't want him anymore. "Shhh," he said, the closest he could get to words, but then heard a step at the top of the stairs, and pushed Luna against the wall with such force that her breath was knocked out of her, and she wasn't even able to whimper. She looked up at him in shock until she heard the voice.
"You still down here?" The man sounded scared even though he was just talking to Damon's back. 
Damon turned his head slowly, with his arm supporting him against the wall. The one they'd send down was low rank, this young looking kid who was wearing baggy black jeans and a black shirt, unlike most of the others who were dressed in nice pants or suits. Damon knew that looked like a bully, like he was going to kill her. Damon waited for the man to continue.
"They sent me back down for you. Time's almost up and we have to take down this building. They wanted me to, you know, give you warning."
Damon groaned, closed his eyes, and then turned around. With Luna there, against the wall, he'd gotten too excited. Too close to her neck. He should've known better. Damon nodded once and then followed the kid up the stairs with Luna's hand in his. Once they were out into the lab Damon wondered if there was anything Luna could use to protect herself, but it seemed everything had been destroyed, nothing looked functional, much less easy to understand and use.
He held on tight to her wrist, not that he thought she's run, but because he was so afraid of losing her again. He'd rather die than hand her over to Kris. Once they were outside, Damon realized how much time had passed. The air was filled with smoke and there were shadowy figures darting through. Luna pressed against Damon's back and he pulled her in front of him to avoid any suspicion from the other men. They walked together, down the sidewalk, the humans coughing because of the smoke. Damon walked slower than the two other men dragging Harvey and his father, who were both stone faced and complacent. The lovers drifted to the back of the group and Damon pulled Luna close to him because while he couldn't speak, he was sure that Luna had something to tell him.
"I'm sorry I left you," Luna whispered, trying to speak into his ear but he pushed her away, pointing to his ear. He could hear her fine. "You're mad, aren't you?" Damon frowned, shook his head. He'd been a moron, hadn't even bothered to ask why she was so scared. Luna scratched her throat, right in the place where she'd seen his scar. "Where are we going?" She still seemed unsure whether to feel safe or not. He guessed he was the last person in the world she'd think would be knocking down the main gates to come and get her. She'd expected Kris and she got Damon. 
Damon just gritted his teeth and shook his head, bad news. Luna's eyes widened but they were both distracted when the building they'd left, 7D, Dr. Walker's lab, explode and burst into flames. Damon hated being so close to the heat and, after the initial duck and cover, all of the vampires sped up, forcing the humans into a jog. The human's hearts were hammering but Damon didn't know anything he could possibly do to save Luna, much less her friends. 
Lilith was sitting out on the roof of the car watching the fireworks and waiting for them. Luna gasped when she saw Lilith, and her fingernails dug into Damon's skin. He frowned, and then realized that Luna had probably met Lilith before. He wished he could explain to her anything, but there was no use, so he pulled her along.  The driver, a man Damon recognized by the stupid hat, helped Lilith down from the roof. Her grin was the first thing his eyes focused on, the shining white teeth, the only thing he could see clearly through the smoke. "Did you boys have fun?" She asked the men who lined up in a row, with their catches next to them. "My brother will be happy to see all of you," She said, speaking to the prisoners. Yeah, everything was for the supreme asshole, Kris. Damon could feel Luna's tension through her arm. Lilith came right up to her next, taking a close look at Luna's neck on both sides. Then, she straightened herself and smiled sweetly at Damon. "Just checking." Damon wanted to grab Lilith's hair and push her down but resisted, just stroked the inside of Luna's wrist with his finger. How could it have happened? That she was standing next to him, all warm skin and strawberry scented, and he couldn't just leave with her right then, start over.  "Well," Lilith said, turning back to the cars. "I don't have the patience to wait for the others, so I'll go on ahead. Damon, I'm sure you don't mind accompanying me and the meat."
The woman knew how to intimidate. Damon walked to the car, and the other men brought their meat. Lilith got in first and slid down to the end of the back seat. Harvey sat in front of her, followed by his father, then Luna, Damon resting his hand for a moment on the small of Luna's back before she sat on the cold leather seat.
"So, this was a successful night," Lilith said as Damon settled into the seat next to her.
He nodded and looked at anything but Luna's eyes.
"I can't wait until my brother sees what we've brought him." Lilith was looking at the humans as if she wished sample each of them.
"What exactly is his plan for us?" Dr. Walker asked. He was the most relaxed of the bunch. His heartbeat was only slightly elevated. Luna seemed to be the one what was at risk for a cardiac arrest if she didn't calm down.
Lilith shrugged. "I suspect that he'll want repayment for the injuries caused by your son, Dr. Walker. After that, I'm sure he'd love to reenact some of the testing you've done to our dear friend Jeremy. I admit I'd be a bit disappointed if he didn't. I'm not sure that even death is enough for some one like you."
Dr. Walker was shaking with anger, and his heartbeat sped up. Damon could see the resemblance between father and son. Did he care if they lived or died? He didn't know. "What I did, I did for science and for the survival of my species."
"Very honorable," Lilith said. "I'll let Kris know. I'll bet he's been dying to know the thought process behind your actions." Lilith laughed and crossed her legs as the car pulled away from the curb. "That beating is driving me insane. I'd have had them ride with the others if I knew for sure that they'd survive the trip," she said to Damon.
He nodded and looked out of the window. The beating was driving him crazy too. Lilith was passing the time glaring at the humans but to Damon it was turning out to be the longest ride of his life. He picked up the pen and folder which were still on the seat, turned it over, and wrote her a note. 
What's Kris going to do with the girl?
"Why?" Lilith asked, with eyebrows raised. "Do you like her?" When Damon just shook his head, she smirked and wrote, 
The same thing I did to you. He thinks he's in love with her.
Damon looked away to hide his emotion. Shit. Harvey was nervously wringing his hands but the other two humans were still.  Lilith laughed out loud. "I know, I know." Her eyes glazed over and her thoughts seemed to drift. "I hate him."
Why are you doing this for him? Damon scribbled.
Luna looked at his note for a long time and then looked out window and didn't answer. Damon put his hand on her knee. There was an uncomfortable shift from Luna across the seat but when Lilith looked into his eyes, he felt as if they were the only ones there. Her blood was thick in his veins and he could still feel her, and fall for her, at any time.
"Wouldn't you?" She asked him.
Damon shook his head. No.
"Well, that's because you're an asshole."
Suddenly, Luna clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh. Lilith's head turned towards her and with the sound in her chest, Damon wondered if the human heart could spontaneously explode. 
"I wonder what he sees in you," Lilith said, her head slightly tilted, "Your hair is a mess, look at it.  It's dull and has split ends. You're overweight . . ."
Luna's face had reddened. "I'm not overweight," Luna began, "You're just-" Damon didn't know if she just couldn't think of a response or if she just consciously caught herself a moment before death. The overweight comment was a little much. Lilith just seemed naturally slight. And gorgeous.
"I'm just, what?" Jealous?" Lilith asked. Silence, Luna lowered her eyes. Lilith, jealous? Insanity. Lilith paused, and then continued her insults, emotionless. "Your nose is too big and you dress like shit." 
Luna's eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip as she looked down. Yes, she looked simple with just jeans and this cute t-shirt that said Crack is Whack, but Damon loved her and couldn't care less if she wore short skirts and stilettos every day of her life. He'd never wanted an uptight, prissy girl. Just the kind of girl that he could hang around on the couch with and maybe get high once and a while, that's all. Damon willed Luna to keep her mouth shut. He stared hard at the side of her face. A few tense moments passed and then Luna looked away. He wished he was anywhere but there. Damon scratched the inside of his wrist. 
Lilith was looking very satisfied with herself. Damon wished he had his voice back. Would he ask her to let up on Luna, or maybe just come clean and walk away? Good question. The thought crossed his mind that maybe his voice would never come back. It must've been his concern about his throat that made Damon miss Dr. Walker's movements. He didn't know why Lilith missed it, what it was that was heavy enough on her mind to distract her from her prisoners. It was Lilith's screams that brought his attention back, and he spotted the small vial on the floor. Dr. Walker had thrown something on her face. Damon could smell the burning flesh and tried to pry her hands away to see what was on it, but she wouldn't move them. The humans were moving but he couldn't follow them and wrestle with Lilith at the same time. He tried to yell for Harvey to sit back down, but nothing came out.
Harvey opened the door on Damon's side, but while Damon let go of Lilith for a moment, he realized that Dr. Walker was on the other side of the car, with the drivers side door open already. That was how they managed to both get a hold of Lilith, while Damon was pulling his own door closed. They pushed her out of the car.  Once he'd closed his door, Damon sat back and turned, found Lilith gone, and sat there in shock. It was in that moment that Harvey grabbed his upper arm. Damon was about to smile and say, thanks buddy you just saved me a hell of a lot of trouble, when Harvey started pulling him. Damon was surprised enough to be dragged halfway through the doorway. Before he was quite out of the door, he managed to grab on to the bottom of the floorboard. Next thing he knew, his legs and feet were scraping concrete, and he was trying to pull himself through the doorway.  
Luna was yelling. "No, don't. Leave him alone." Then, "Pull him up. Harvey, you're killing him." Damon's jeans were tearing, and gravel was grinding away his flesh. Harvey's eyes didn't show mercy, they were filled with hatred and jealousy.
Damon tried to curse them all, but no sound came, just pain, and he felt blood in his mouth, knew that he must've torn his wound open. Harvey was sitting there in the seat where Damon had been sitting a few moments earlier, and his father leaned against the floor, sprinkling on his hand what Damon realized by the gold cross on the container, was Holy water. Damon was prepared for the pain, but it was his desperate reach for Dr. Walker's hand that made him slip and roll off. He half expected to feel the car pass over him, but he forced his body onto the side of the road, and stopped himself when he felt cool grass on his face. His hand was still burning, but he wiped it off on his shirt and although it made a scar in the flesh, he no longer felt in danger of losing the appendage. His body would heal.
Damon pulled himself up and looked around for Lilith. The ground was dark and she wasn't standing. When he turned to see the progress of the limo, he saw that it was swerving back and forth. He guessed that they were working on the driver. His legs hurt, his hand hurt, and his throat was bleeding in his mouth. If he ever saw Harvey again, he was going to bash his face in. It was the screech of tires that drew his attention back to the limo just as it hit another car, ran off the road, and hit a ditch that made it roll over twice until it hit several trees and then lay there in the high grass, upside down.  Damon was at once glad that the highway was empty. The other car they'd side swiped had hit the median head on and settled there, no movement from inside.
Damon lifted himself up, intent on ramming his fist through Harvey's face. But once he'd considered the likelihood of survival, his limping turned into a jog when he reminded himself that Luna had been in the car. He'd forgotten how fast he could move when he really wanted to, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Lilith's voice boom from somewhere close, "My face!" He turned to see her standing by the road not far from where he stood. Headlights slowed behind her and saved him from having to take any steps away from the wreckage. 
"Are you guys okay?" The man asked that came out of his car and ran toward Lilith, obviously horrified by the accident that was in front of him. There was another man, heavy set, who was walking behind him and didn't seem anxious to get involved in a potentially fatal accident.
Lilith turned and in one movement that even Damon had a hard time following, took the slimmer man by the neck and brought him down. Yes, females were the stronger of his species. The other human was standing there, horrified, because his eyes weren't quick enough to see that she'd grabbed his friend. Damon was sure that all the man saw was that his friend was there, and then gone, lost in the long grass that was up to their knees. Damon wanted desperately to check for survivors of the crash, but he knew that if he hesitated, he ran the chance of the other human driving off.
The man didn't notice Damon at first because of the darkness and the fact that he was searching the tall grass for signs of his buddy. When he finally did see the black shadow moving towards him, he attempted to run back to the car, but Damon wrapped his arms around him and snapped his neck, taking a bite before he even realized what he was doing. He let go when he heard a car screech to a stop behind him. He turned, groaning because he thought it may have been more humans, but saw it was the van that held Lilith's army. Several vampires jumped out and headed right to where Lilith was crouching, taking her hands to guide her back to the van. Damon didn't want to leave the scene. No one had investigated the overturned limo yet. 
The greasy haired vampire leaned out and yelled at him. "Let's go, let's go, we need to get out of here."
Damon told himself it was okay, they'd have to check the wreckage because Kris wanted his property. He climbed in and took an empty seat next to Lilith, the other men sliding over to make room for him. He was sickened by the stench in the car. It was strong enough to choke him. It was the smell of blood, anger, death, torture, and violence. Above it all, was a strange tension, as if the laymen were in limbo with each other, one slight change could send them against each other, at their throats. Damon was near the window and able to get a good look at the limo as they passed it, but nothing was moving in or about the wreckage. When the car didn't slow, Damon grabbed the driver's sleeve violently, causing the car to swerve and the men in the car to grip their seats and shift uncomfortably. 
 "What?" The driver replied, "They're humans, they've got to be dead. Kris'll just have to deal with it."
Damon would've laughed if there wasn't blood in his mouth, would've cried if there had been any tears.  

Two siblings, both blinded. It was hilarious. Once at the compound Damon got out of the car and lingered behind the group that was leading Lilith to see the doctor.  He was tempted to double back to the van while everyone was inside, drive back out to the wreck and see what was left of his Bella. Looking out over the gardens, he was tempted, but there was nothing for him out there. He'd heard no heartbeats as they passed, no sign of life. The feeling of loss reminded him of something, so far in his mind that it made him dizzy to think about it, and he suddenly felt like he was standing at a great height and about to fall. He snapped out of the feeling quickly, remembered that Lilith's face had been burning, and with a palm on his forehead he headed inside of the house. Damon wanted to see what Kris had to say about it, see how upset the bastard was, and then kill him. 
Kris was standing in the hallway when Damon came upstairs. He was a quick healer. The bandage was gone, but he was squinting, as if he wasn't sure who was actually there. "Where is she?" Kris asked, already angry at being left out and forgotten. Damon kept walking, clenched his fists to keep from hitting him. "Come back here," Kris demanded, and Damon walked by, pulled one of the men who was crowding around Lilith's doorway out of the way, and towards Kris. 
 "The human is dead," the man said, keeping a good distance away from Kris, running his hand over his bald head nervously. 
Kris's face lost all traces of amusement. "Where's the body?"
Damon looked away because he felt as disgusted as Kris sounded. His Bella.  "They left it behind," Baldy answered, taking a step back. 
It did no use because Kris grabbed him and pulled him forward by his collar until their faces were inches apart. "Take me there," he said. Maybe Kris really had loved her. Ha. The human. In his madness of grief, Damon was having trouble remembering if he'd ever loved her himself. 
He didn't say anything at first, just turned towards the crowd and then looked back. "Your sister is hurt."
Kris paused for a moment with the vampire's shirt still in his hands. "What's the matter with her?" He sounded like he was annoyed with Lilith for taking the attention away from where it should have been. 
The doctor pushed his way out of the crowd, just in time to answer Kris's question. "She was attacked. Holy water to the face, I suspect. She'll be fine, no scarring, she's just in a lot of pain right now." 
Kris just let go of the vampire, ran his hand through his hair and snickered. "The cunt deserved it," he said descending the stairs.
He'd ignore it. It didn't matter, Damon decided. Mourning was what was important. He wanted to follow Kris, jump in the car with him, but what could he do? If Luna were alive, he'd know when he returned from the carnage. And, if Kris decided to turn her, all the better. Then he'd never have to lose her again. Damon waited for the crowd to clear out, everyone dispersing right after the doctor. He closed the door and locked it behind him, pausing for a moment, and swallowed. He could feel her anger from across the room. Lilith's eyes were closed, her hands lying on her chest, looking like an angel, or someone recently deceased. His luck wasn't that good. It took all he had to take a step towards the bed. He was afraid to be alone with her, more afraid of leaving and making her angry.
 When he walked over to the bed, Lilith opened her eyes and looked at him. "I'm hurt." She sounded like a child, but her eyes were steel green and shaped like a cat's. Damon took her hand and sat next to her on the bed. He thought of a priest and this as her last confession. "Are they dead?" She asked. He nodded. Yes, that was the general belief. They were humans, fallible and fragile. They were dead. "Good," she said, swallowed hard. "Let's go to bed." Damon nodded again. Why wasn't he stopping it? He took off all of his clothes and folded them into a neat pile, placing them on the table in the dressing room. He climbed into the bed next to her, numb, and well aware of the fact that Lilith's rage and Damon's punishment, for what, he didn't know, having been brought back to life maybe, would come swiftly. For the first time in his life, Damon felt like he had no soul. 

That Pretty Face. The Siblings Part. 
 You Guys Don't Really Believe That, Do You?  
 A Can of Beans.

Lilith had been as generous as she was cruel, and when Damon sat up from the bed the next night, his throat was clear and he could speak. Her blood still on his lips, her mind was his mind, and he was complete. 
"Ow." That was his first word. 
He ran his hand over his shoulders, the deep grooves about the size of fingernails still remained. Next he groaned and ran his hand through his hair. Finally, he'd reached it. Hell. How long it had taken him, how far from his death it had been.  That was what truly happened when Lilith latched on and would not let go until she was done. He'd truly believed he could die again as she drained him until he could barely move, and none of it mattered because all he wanted was to see Luna again. He hadn't thought she'd be concerned with his thoughts.
Lilith's face was perfection. She smiled at him when she rolled over, ran her fingers softly along his shoulders, and it almost tickled. His rage had replaced hers. He was going to take the price of his soul out of Kris's flesh. It was the least he could do to repay the favor.  
"Where are you going?" Lilith asked, leaning on her elbow. 
Damon ignored the question. He pulled the first pair of pants he saw and left the room, walking down the hall, directly to the doorway Kris had exited the night before, and started banging on the door. 
Kris opened a moment later, while Damon's hand was still raised. "Don't waste your time. She doesn't even know you," Kris sneered. There was a nasty grin on his face, and Damon just narrowed his eyes. Lilith didn't have to know him. She was still his, would never belong to Kris, no matter how jealous he was. Kris seemed to recognize his anger and before Damon could do anything else, he shoved Damon up against the opposite wall, leaving a huge crack behind as Damon slid to the floor. Although his mind was swimming, Damon still managed to avoid being hit by the chair that Kris came at him with next. Without giving it another thought, Damon crossed over the veil as he slid further along the wall to avoid being hit. Kris paused with a broken chair leg over his head and laughed. "I can still see you, asshole."
Damon just retaliated by kicking Kris as hard as he could in the shin and knocking him off his feet, his body hitting the doorframe in the narrow hallway with a loud crack on the way down. Damon jumped to his feet and turned to run, knowing that he'd been stupid to start the fight. He wondered if he'd always been that stupid. Kris's hand whipped out and grabbed his ankle, bringing him back down. Damon turned over onto his back in time to prevent a sharp piece of the broken chair leg from puncturing his chest.  
"What the hell are you two doing?"  Lilith was standing in the hallway with her hands on her hips. 
It wasn't until then that Damon realized how easy it would've been for Kris to overpower him. Instead, after looking up at his sister, he dropped the stake and looked Damon in the eyes. "Its better this way," he said as he started to get up, "Don't you ever come near me again."
Lilith slid down the hallway until she was close enough to Kris that she looked like she was going to kiss him. "This little experiment is over." Damon still hadn't moved from the floor and was able to look up Lilith's nightgown from where he was lying. He thought he wanted to throw up, and never have sex again. Fuck it, he'd take the blood lust. "I don't care where you go or what you do, but I don't want to see that pretty face around here again."
Disgusting. Damon wondered briefly if he'd had a sister but couldn't even recall a vague memory of one. His life felt like that of an only child, from what he could remember. Pinpoints of memories still surfaced daily, and Damon did nothing but push them back down again. It hurt too much to remember a life with a future, with love, with comfort and safety.
Kris laughed bitterly.  "Tell me sister, how does it feel to be loathed?" Lilith looked like she wanted to hit him.  Damon knew he wanted to. What amazed Damon the most was that Kris wasn't afraid of her. But then, why should he? Lilith had always been there for her little brother. He'd give anything to have a peek at what their previous life had been like. 
"You know nothing about hate," Lilith hissed, then turned, stalking off towards her room, her long curly hair hanging down in the way that Damon had always thought of as just for him. That was the only time it was fully down, when they were alone together in their bedroom. Damon just stood up, trying to catch a glimpse of what was in Kris's room, but Kris made sure he covered the doorway. 
"I'll be out of your hair in no time," Kris called over Damon's head, making sure his sister could hear it down the hall. "I have no problem leaving you alone to take on the humans when they find out about your little massacre." It was obvious that he'd stay if Lilith would just ask him to. But Damon didn't want Lilith to ask him. He wanted Kris out, just as long as he wasn't taking Luna with him.
"I don't need you. You do nothing but complicate things," Lilith said, halfway down the hall.
 Damon hadn't moved from in front of Kris's room. He cleared his throat to help find a voice, and waited for Kris to look at him. "Is she alive?" Damon asked him, his eyes serious, asking him to please, for once, give him something. Even Lilith showed mercy now and then.
Kris smiled and leaned in closer to him, to whisper back. "It doesn't make a difference to someone in your position. So don't waste your time."
Damon paused a moment, wanting to carefully word his next question, but Lilith was standing in the hallway again. "I really don't understand you men," she said, resting against the doorframe.  "I thought you hated each other." She didn't wait for a reply. "Damon, let's go. Kris seems to have a bit of packing to do."
Damon swallowed and looked into Kris's eyes, which were not giving away anything. There was nothing more to ask. Kris would never tell him the truth, he just wanted him to suffer, but how else would Damon ever find out? Not through Lilith. He wondered briefly why it was that if Kris hated him so much, why hadn't he told Lilith about Damon's own obsession with Luna? That was probably the biggest question in the whole mess. Why wouldn't he want Damon out of the picture? Then he'd have both of them to himself.
Damon just walked back to Lilith, and he could hear Kris's door close behind him. Once the door was closed in their own room and they were alone, Lilith sat on the bed and crossed her legs. "Damon, I know all about this silly little human love connection you've made." Damon cleared his throat and sat down on an ottoman in the living room section of their suite so he could face her but keep his distance.  "I'm not stupid. I've known the entire time. The only reason I let it go on is because I knew that no matter what happened, Kris would win. You had and have absolutely no chance of getting the girl, Damon. You're a loser. I thought you were well aware of that before I introduced you to this world. How else do you think you even found this world? Do you honestly think just anyone can stumble into this kind of existence. When I found you," she said, and then stopped herself, "Never mind how I found you."
Damon interrupted her because he still had a black hole where the twenty four hours before his heart stopped should have been. "No, go back to that. How was I when you found me?" His voice was rough and low and he didn't sound at all like himself.
"The problem is that humans don't realize that things you do affect your after life. How about reading? How about considering that not all myths are really myths." Lilith was shaking her head as if she didn't want to think about it. "It doesn't matter. Look, my point is that with this human stuff, it's over, so deal with it. He's leaving me here to take all of the repercussions. And at this point, I don't care, because as interesting as this little experiment was, and that's all it was, an experiment, I'm bored with it now. I'm tired."
He'd been stupid to think that Lilith would be in the dark on anything. It was over because the way she'd said it, it seemed clear that Luna was gone. The Luna problem was taken care of, and now all she had to do was tie up the lose ends. "It was just a game for you, wasn't it?" He asked.
Lilith sighed. "It's all a game, Damon. When you've lived as long as I have, you have to find new ways to entertain yourself. Some just take it more serious than others, like my brother Kris. He really thinks he's in love with the girl. Look what it brought him. No good comes from love, Damon. Please, I wrote the book on broken hearts when I was alive, and I sure as hell am not going to start that silliness again now." She stopped, as if realizing that she'd gotten carried away. 
Damon shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, scratching behind his ear, taking a moment for everything to sink in. "Let me ask you something," he said. "What's your name? Your full name."
She looked like she didn't know whether to laugh, or answer his question. "Why are you asking me that?"
"Just, answer the question."  He figured she owed him something. Lilith shook her head and looked away. No intention of answering his question. He sighed. "You were human once, just like everyone else. What was your name?" Lilith remained silent, refused to look at his face. "Come on, what was it?" He asked, his voice rising to a yell even though it killed his throat and his words cracked. 
"I don't have one," She said steadily, finally meeting his eyes. He recognized the look that told him to stop pushing. 
"You were a person once, right?" He asked her.
She sighed. "Why do you care?"
Damon narrowed his eyes. "You were once human, weren't you?"
"Yes, Damon," she said, her voice sarcastic, as if admitting it would end his questioning. "I was once a human."
"You must've had a family, a mother and father? I know you had a brother. I know you had a name."
Lilith stood up, stomping her feet down, looking enraged. "That's none of your business."
"You were a kid, right? Skinned your knees?" He said, as he stood up too, prepared to follow her around her castle, shouting behind her. "You had a favorite fucking color, didn't you?" He asked, not quite yelling, his voice wouldn't let him continue on like that.
"Why are you doing this to me?" She shrieked at him, and then with a shaking hand, clamped it over her mouth. She took a deep breath and looked disappointed in herself for losing control. He liked it.  "What's wrong with you?" She asked after a moment, everything calm again.
He shrugged as if nothing had happened. "I was just wondering."
Her hands were still shaking when she flattened down her hair. "I've got to get going. There are some recorded phone conversations I have to listen to."
Damon nodded but when she left the room, he followed. He caught the door before she could lock it, but she didn't stop him, just pulled her hand away and kept walking. He felt the change in himself. It was like he was beyond being afraid of her. It didn't matter if she was uncomfortable. It didn't matter if she hurt him. The only thing that had mattered to him was gone. 
Lilith walked down a flight of stairs that Damon hadn't noticed before, the kind of stairs that are in the corner of one's field of vision, servant entrances that keep guests from having to think of the "help". Lilith pretended that she hadn't seen or heard him behind her. After several flights of stairs, he could feel that they were in some kind of basement. The walls were thick stone down there, but it was well lit because of all the security cameras. He could feel them follow him as he walked past. Once they turned a corner at the bottom, Damon saw what looked like a military control room, the type he'd seen in movies. There were people bustling around looking busy, stacks of papers, computers, files, and five huge plasma flat screens that were at the moment showing a busy city street. 
Lilith didn't pause to look around. Of course not, she'd created that place. She went straight to an office with windows that faced out into every direction. In the room, several men were standing around looking at a computer screen. Lilith didn't introduce Damon to anyone when they walked in although the men seemed surprised to see him there and even spread out to give him some room around the screen. 
"What do you have?" Lilith asked. 
"We intercepted this phone call between the Secretary of National Security and the Chief General of The United States. It looks like things are pretty serious. They talk about bringing in the marines to take us out, after the massacre at the base last night. Good news is that they still think we're in the city." The man sitting in front of the screen pressed play and what followed was a simple conversation in which each party identified itself and proceeded to explain exactly how they'd go about wiping out their vampire enemies, including specific buildings to plant bombs in. They never specifically mention Lilith or any other vampire by name. It struck Damon as odd. Also the fact that two men who most likely lived in same city, who probably had offices in the same buildings, were laying out plain and simple every aspect of their plan. Something wasn't right. It was too neat, clean.  Government intelligence shouldn't be that easy to get through. At least he hoped not. 
When the call was over, everyone turned and looked at Lilith, who seemed to be thinking so hard that Damon was tempted to just start laughing over how upset she was because of something that was obviously staged. "You guys don't actually believe that stuff, do you?" He asked, looking around at the confused faces in the room. He couldn't help it, there was a grin on his face. Lilith turned to him and he could see her anger. He could feel it, just like the tide rising, like the sun falling, like the movement in Luna's chest. The former movement in Luna's chest. "They're setting you guys up," he said. All he got were blank looks all around. "Jesus, haven't you guys ever played war games before?" Of course not, vampires had no use for brain melting time suckage like that, although he figured that given the chance, he'd actually have the time to beat a game for once. "Look," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "They're letting you in on this fictitious plan so you guys will put all your eggs into one basket so they can sweep you down and blow this place to shit." He swallowed because his throat was dry and tired from talking.  
Lilith just scowled at him. "So they plan to take us out all at once? The humans don't even know of this place." 
Damon shook his head. "I know that's how it seems, but I think they do. I think they've been setting you up for something." Lilith didn't seem to know whether or not to believe him or not. What reason did she have to believe him? He was a liar. When she didn't say anything, he just shrugged. "You guys do what you want. I just wouldn't want to be around when their real plans go into action."
The men sitting around all seemed to look down and Damon could hear a few of them snicker. He was afraid for a split second that Lilith would just erupt in anger but instead she just looked annoyed. "Why do you find this funny?" She asked, looking around the room. "The asshole's right. He's the new guy around here, and he picks up more than you do. Get rid of that shit. Trash it. Show me something useful. Until then, business as usual." She walked out of the room and Damon followed right behind her again. He had to give it to her, she handled her mistakes gracefully.
After they'd walked up one flight of stairs, she stopped and turned to him. He stopped too, and looked up at her. "I deserved that, Damon." He didn't reply, didn't want to walk into any of her traps. He just held her eyes. "What I just don't understand is why, if the transformation to our species is supposed to elevate the soul, that you're so fucking simple."
Damon couldn't help but give her a half smile. "Lilith, I'd like you to know that my purpose in this afterlife is to attain the perfection that you've achieved." Lilith narrowed her eyes at him and turned to walk up the next level. "No Lilith, I'm serious. All I've ever wanted was to be like you." She glanced back at him but kept walking. "You really hate me, don't you?" He was bored with always fighting for her attention, but he didn't intend to put as much emotion in the question as he did. He guessed that it did matter to him, after all.
The question made her stop and turn around again, look him up and down. "Yes, Damon. I do hate you." 
"I do," she agreed immediately. "But I hate everyone, Damon." She didn't say anything else, didn't explain why it was that he was still around, why she didn't just take care of the little problem of Damon when she had the chance. He guessed it didn't matter. Maybe he'd already seen Lilith's human side and didn't even know it. But, if that was all she had to show for it, then he was in trouble. 
Lilith kept walking, but Damon hesitated. She kept on without him and soon enough, she was standing at the top looking down at him. He thought maybe they'd have a moment, where she'd explain herself, or maybe say something that would take the edge off her words, but she just turned again and disappeared down a hallway, leaving him alone in the empty stairwell.
Damon would've liked to pretend that he had better things to do than to follow her, but the truth was that he had nothing else. Instead, he found his way back to the lonely bedroom suite. He was getting hungry, could feel the nagging in his belly. There was no telling when Lilith would be back, so he picked up the corded phone that sat on the nightstand, the antique looking thing that still had a rotary dial. An operator came on the other end immediately, before he could even think of a number to call. 
"Yes, Ma'am. What can I do for you?" Came the male voice that was somehow familiar but didn't quite stir any memories.
Damon hesitated. "I'm hungry," he grumbled in a voice that he knew sounded little more than a grunt. His voice was nearly spent.
"Excuse me?" The voice had immediate attitude. "Who is this?"
"It doesn't matter who this is. I need you to send some food up here to Lilith's suite."
"This isn't fucking room service," the voice behind the phone said. 
Damon didn't really know what to say to that, but it made him angry. "So what you're saying is that you're not going to cooperate? I'll have to tell Lilith about this."
 "Go right ahead, jackass. I'll tell Lilith the same Goddamn thing and if that's what she wants, she can find another personal assistant."
"What's your name?" Damon demanded, feeling that if he knew where this guy currently was, he'd have every intention of going straight there to kill him. The man answered with a serious of obscenities before hanging up on him. Damon jumped at a voice behind him.
"What were you doing on the phone?" Lilith asked, looking at him suspiciously. 
Damon replaced the receiver. "I need to eat," he said. "Oh, and by the way, your personal assistant is an asshole."
"Who?" She narrowed her eyes and plopped her oversized white leather Gucci handbag on the coffee table.
"Your assistant. The asshole operator. I asked him to bring up something for me to eat."
Lilith looked between Damon and the phone for a moment and Damon suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something wrong with her look, and following his suspicions of Lilith's army being tricked, that made her confusion the last thing in the world he wanted to see.  
 "You picked up that phone and there was someone on the other end that told you he was my personal assistant?" She asked while backing out of the room and didn't wait for a reply. She was gone with a quickness that he'd never seen in a woman wearing high heels. He followed her, all the way down to the subbasement again, Lilith moving so quickly that he had to struggle to keep up without tripping down the stairs. He half expected her to kick off her shoes and run, but he knew nothing would ever be so dire. It'd have to be the end of the world.
 This time when she slammed the double doors open, people jumped up to look busy. She hadn't been expected this time, and it seemed that the people had been sitting around and playing cards, trying to kill the time. Lilith went straight back to the phone room, the men stood up, alarmed as soon as they saw her walking towards them through the windows. They scrambled for papers, several turned the opposite direction, but she stalked towards them without hesitating, and slammed the door open. The lead guy, the one in front of the computer, whirled around in his computer chair and flapped his mouth open and closed looking like he was in a panic.
"Who's on my phone?" Lilith demanded, pointing at the computer behind him, as if he were supposed to have the answers already pulled up in front of him.
"What?" The vampire finally managed to spit out.
Lilith put her hands behind him and swung his chair around so that he was facing the computer. "There was a person on the line, tell me who it was."
It was a voice behind them that answered, a man who looked like a security guard. "The line in your bedroom automatically dials the kitchen." The computer guy spun his chair around again to look at her as the security guard kept talking. "But Lilith, the kitchen is this old one near the meat lockers, no one ever goes back there. We've never used it. We intended on getting it changed actually, to make it more convenient. There's no one down there to answer that phone." 
Lilith's eyes widened a second before she turned to the other men in the room that were frozen and not sure what to do with the new information. "Find him," She said, to all of them in general, and turned to look at the people huddled near the door who were just trying to find out what was going on, "In the north kitchen. Find him immediately." Then they were gone in a rustle of wind and papers. Damon was amazed at how fast they moved, even quicker than Lilith, but he guessed that these people had been hand picked by her, bred for speed. These were Lilith's personal employees. Damon couldn't help but wonder how they were paid. 
Lilith followed behind the general group but didn't hurry as much as she had on her way down. She felt confident in them. 
"Who could it have been?" Damon wondered out loud, not thinking that she'd actually answer the question.
"Do you actually think that killing Lucas would be the end of the resistance? There are traitors everywhere. Why do you think you're under lock and key? You can't be trusted." Damon shook his head and grinned, not sure why, maybe because he should've known why she took him back, so she didn't have to worry about him being a traitor anymore. "I suggest you watch yourself, Damon." She sped up a bit as they started up the stairs. There were no other people. Damon figured that they'd be checking out the kitchen. "Your betrayal angered me, but I spared you because of my amusement with the girl.  She's no longer in the equation. I have no purpose for you now. I suggest you create one." 
Damon had no response for that. 
Lilith led the rest of the way in silence and when they came through the two way swinging door, they found everyone in the dining room. They were crowded around the table. "What's going on? Where is he?"
The security guard had removed the phone from the wall and was busy taking it apart on the table. A small silver spring popped out onto the table. "I'm trying to find prints right now."
"What good are prints going to do me? You're not fucking detectives," Lilith put her hands on her hips. A few of the other men snickered. "You're telling me that no one saw anything? No one saw a man leave that room?"
The vampire shook his head. "We haven't used this kitchen in months. We switched to the one closest to our central operations. This place is too big."
Damon kept walking, slipping behind the group, to the door that led into the kitchen. The floors were grimy and dusty, an obsolete room. The floor was blue and white checkerboard tiled, and the metal washbasin and counter told him it hadn't been renovated upon move in. Lilith had been right. Lucas' death hadn't killed everything. There was a red haired woman kneeling next to the door, and a tall man fingerprinting the sink. Taking a look around, the general synopsis seemed to be that there was no sign of him. The light was on in the pantry and he peeked his head in, pushing the door open. 
Damon picked up on the lack of concern with the man involved, maybe they thought Lilith was overworked and beginning to overreact to the whole situation. Damon ran his eyes down the shelves, looking for anything that looked out of the ordinary, but what really could the others have missed? A can of red Goya kidney beans. It lay on the floor on its side, probably left over from when the human occupants of the house were extracted. 
It was on one knee that he happened to spot the slight movement, the dilation of the man's eyes. He'd been lying up against the wall right under the bottom shelf. Damon paused, his eyes wide with recognition. He knew the man. It was Kenny, the guy who'd helped him by taking over the mic during a rally when Damon was so choked up about the welfare of his people that he couldn't speak, the pain in his throat now reminding him of how it felt to have no words left in this throat to yell about their liberation, their joining with the humans to create a society where everyone had the same rights. Where vampire's didn't have to hide their thirst, where humans would volunteer their blood to their immortal brothers, a kind of utopia that deep down Damon knew could never happen but was so beautiful that he'd dream and preach about it until his throat was raw and his breath ran out, that was, had he not been immortal. Afterwards, Kenny had come up behind him, put his hand on the back of Damon's neck, and told him he'd done great, how he, himself, had a terrible time trying to speak in front of a big crowd and he'd done great, inspired the masses, he was a leader, and for the first time since he'd died, Damon had felt like he had a purpose.
The green eyes didn't show any emotion, no pleading, just a hardness and hatred that hurt him. 
 "These people are idiots," Lilith said from behind him. "What do you have there?" 
Damon stood up with the beans in his hand. "My mom used to make these," he said with a smile, and he held them out to her. 
Lilith looked down at the beans but didn't take them out of his hand. "Never had them." She turned and walked out.
Damon followed her out of the panty, turning off the light but leaving the door open. Lilith was walking across the empty room, to the second possible exit for their mystery man, the door that lead out to the back garden. "Do you think he's gone?" Damon asked.
Lilith shook her head. "Door's locked from the inside." She unlocked it and let it swing open.
Damon looked out across the well lit and slightly moist lawn. Kenny was going to have a fun time trying to leave the compound undetected. Lilith walked away from the door, back towards the dining room, Damon guessed to shout more instructions at her minions. He walked away from the door too, leaving it open and walking halfway across the room. "I don't know why those guys are standing around in there. Those fuck-ups should be searching the rest of the house." 
It worked. Lilith raised her eyebrows and nodded. She walked into the dining room where Damon heard her demand, "Why the hell are all of you just standing around?"
Kenny was right on time, standing at the door of the pantry, watching Lilith leave the room. Damon saw him step out and looked at him, but instead of a look of gratitude, Kenny gave Damon the finger before he exited through the open back door. Damon paused a moment in his anger, reflecting on how he'd rip that finger off, before he pursued Kenny.  Damon pounced on him before he made it halfway through the lawn, hunting him in the darkness, and slamming him down hard on the wet grass. Kenny started talking the minute Damon landed on to of him. 
"You traitor," Kenny gasped, pushing his long blonde ponytail back and trying to pry himself out of Damon's grasp. "You pathetic liar, you swore an oath to us."
"There is no us," Damon said with his teeth gritted, and refused to let go of Kenny's leg. "There's nothing left, they won."
Kenny reached over and punched Damon in the face, shocking him but not quite enough to let go of the leg. "So you go right back up the dragon's ass."
Damon laughed out loud at this, because it wasn't funny at all. It was frightening. "They won," Damon said, and let go of Kenny's leg but he didn't run like Damon expected him to, just sat there on the lawn looking down at him. 
"You're just scared."
Damon thought that the more appropriate word to describe himself would have been pathetic. But yes, scared worked too. He shook his head. "They won."
 "The fight isn't over."
"No, you're right," Damon said, agreeing and sitting up, "But my life is over. Just consider me dead."
Speaking of death, Lilith appeared then in the doorway and then walked out onto the verandah. Damon could feel the tension from Kenny, like he was tempted to reach out and hit him again, but Damon stood up slowly and offered him a hand. Kenny accepted it. "Even when we lose someone we care about," Kenny said in barely a whisper. "Some things never die, Damon. Remember that."  
Ha. Lilith would never die. Damon eyed the bitch from where they stood. "Walk at a normal pace to the gate in the back. There's woods back there, you may be able to sneak past the guards if you're silent."
Kenny nodded and turned to leave, then paused with his back towards Lilith. "I'm sorry about your pain. But maybe it's time to start loving things that will last until the last vampire is standing to preach it," he gave a little shrug and smiled. 
Damon kept an eye on Lilith, who was watching him but hadn't moved. It was when Mr. Grease Lighting, head of Lilith's security, walked out that he knew he needed to make more of a distance between them and Kenny. He looked at his old friend and smiled back, not sure whether it was genuine or not. "I'll see you around."
Grease Lightning met him halfway back to the main building. "Who was that?"
Damon didn't hesitate, just put his arm around the vampire and turned him physically back towards the house. "My mistake, just a guard. I tackled the poor guy thinking he was the intruder. Say, what's your name?" Damon asked, wondering if the vampire would be able to see his nervousness.
"Edgar," he said, surprised by Damon's friendliness.
"Edgar," Damon repeated, "I think the only way for the lady of the house to get a restful sleep is for this place to be swept through, top to bottom," Damon said, speaking so that Lilith would be able to hear.
Edgar nodded and was too distracted with his daunting task to question him anymore. "That's no problem. We can still find this guy," he said, this time looking at Lilith.
She nodded, still watching Kenny where he was walking, her arms crossed. "Why were you lying in the grass with another man?"
Damon removed his arm from Edgar's shoulder, checking the inside of his arm for grease spots, and waited until the man was inside before he answered. He walked over to the railing where she was standing, and looked out to see that Kenny was out of sight.  "I thought it was somebody, but it turned out to be just a guard."
"You've been angry, Damon," she said, but it didn't sound like a bad thing, she sounded pleased with herself. "Unfortunately, vampires don't have anger management programs." Damon tried to laugh, but he'd been overwhelmed with a panic feeling, and a feeling of being up high again. The verandah was raised about four feet from the ground and was pure concrete. He wasn't going anywhere, but something about the smell of her perfume and his hands on the cool railing made him want to be sick. He closed his eyes to steady his head. "But it's better than the scenario I imagined when I first walked out. I was worried that the human's death left you a little curious." Lilith laughed and although it was a cruel joke, Damon hadn't heard the sound of her laugh in a long while and it made him smile. No, Luna's death hadn't changed him. But Lilith's death? Damon laughed out loud, joining in with her. After Lilith's death, he'd dance on her grave. With tap shoes. In the rain. And, Goddamnit it, he'd feel all right. 

Our Hero Makes a Break For It. Put Her In The Trunk. 

The meeting with Kenny tugged at his consciousness while he slept, and the next night Damon didn't turn down her neck. He grabbed Lilith by her throat and brought her down onto the bed, wondering if he was scaring her, even if just a little. Her blood was thick and cold in his mouth. This was his love, his life, and he wanted to destroy it. Lilith pulled away from him after her initial submissive sigh, swung her long legs around him and began her nightly business around at her desk. For a moment Damon craved sunlight, or at the very least, something, anything, warm.
Damon just lay back and savored the taste of her in his mouth. 
"Damon," Lilith said as she sat down next to him on the bed, "You'd never heard about this place until I brought you here, had you?"
He shook his head. "No," he said, truthfully. Apparently, though, there were others in the organization seemed well aware of her assets.
"I thought so," she said, nodding. "I originally thought that it was human, but if it was, we would've caught it in an instant."
Damon shrugged. "Maybe it's someone that you don't even know about yet." This time, he let a brief smile hint at his lips.  
He wished he really was up to something, it would've made her angry look even more satisfying for him. Lilith opened her mouth then closed it again. He wondered why she was holding back. 
Damon just sighed and sat up, patting the cream colored satin sheets. All of it was so elegant and luxurious. He wanted to burn it to the ground. "Lilith," he said, and she turned to him as if he were about to say something important. "Did this furniture come with the house? Or did you have it brought here?"
Lilith looked like she should've known better than to give him the time of day. "Why don't you try to keep the nonsense to yourself until you have something relevant to say?" Her tone was icy again.
Through the white lace curtains on the windows closest to the bed, Damon could see a black limo pull up to the front talk.  He stood up and scratched his belly, walked over to see who had arrived. 
"Good riddance," Lilith said. Must've been the car to take Kris away. Damon saw the top of his head walk out from underneath the canopy when he felt Lilith's hand on his arm. "I need you to do something for me."
Damon turned away from the window. "Why would you pick me over your brother? You hate me."
Lilith paused but then continued talking as if he hadn't said anything. "I can use you because no one knows you. I need your help"
Damon just narrowed his eyes. "You've always put up with your brother's shit. Why not now?" He turned back to the window, coming to an epiphany that almost made his heart swell and start beating again. 
Before he could even fully turn, Lilith tightened her grip on his arm and pulled him away from the window. "Damon, I'm talking to you."
 "She's still alive, isn't she?" That's why you sent them away."
Lilith looked flustered for a moment and he was about to grab her by the hair when she regained her composure and shrugged. "I wouldn't exactly say that."
No. Damon pushed past Lilith towards the door, had her back against the wall before she even knew what was happening. He'd either make it or die because Lilith wouldn't let go if she caught him now. He must've been at least a flight ahead when he heard her call his name. Not wanting to risk her catching up, because he believed she'd be able to do it even in heels, he gritted his teeth and jumped the railing, tried his best not to brace himself too hard, and fell the rest of the way. His palms hit the floor with a smack, and he stood up, seeing Lilith leaning over, at least four flight up. Damon knew Lilith wouldn't do the same, for the sake of her stilettos, which she'd probably end up putting through his forehead if caught. 
Damon was tasting fresh air by the time he heard the sharp click on the marble, and didn't pause to see who or what was in the back seat, a shadow was good enough, since Kris was still standing on the curb talking to the driver. Damon didn't hesitate, was well aware that the back door was still open when he slipped into the driver side, well aware that Lilith was behind him, but the element of surprise worked especially while the driver had been left the car idling. The asshole just stood there for a second, even as the car was pulling away, and Damon wasn't sure if that was because he couldn't believe it, or was shocked that Damon could pull it off. 
Burning rubber. He loved the smell, hoped Kris choked on it. The car hesitated then pulled forward, swerved under Damon's shaking hand and almost ran off the road. He saved it and wasn't even sure how, since the banging on the partition was distracting him. The banging was followed by a scream for help followed by more banging. Damon grinned to himself for a moment because while the person in the backseat sounded terrified, it was a female voice and most likely the love of his life.
 "Close the back door," Damon yelled, looking for the button that would open the partition while trying to maneuver around the roundabout while going 60. Fucking gargoyle fountain, he should've run it over. There was no verbal response from the back, just more banging, and he could see from the little red light on the dashboard that the back door was flapping with the wind. The last thing he wanted was for the door to smash into something and fly off, especially with how close the space was between the impending wrought iron gates. 
"Shut the door," he yelled again before pressing the gas petal to the floor to keep the car from getting crushed between the entrance gates. They made it, scraping the paint along the way but at the very least succeeded in keeping the door attached. Even Damon had to take a breath. 
 It occurred to Damon that he wasn't completely sure who was in the back, just as the person back there had no idea who it was driving.  He worried for a second that maybe Luna hadn't closed the door because she was getting ready to jump. She must've been scared out of her mind. He turned a bit and slid the partition back with his hand, looking in his rear view mirror for the familiar brown eyes. 
They were there, to his relief, but after a moment the fear in her eyes didn't leave and recognition never replaced it. She was breathing quickly and had a wild panicked look in her eyes. "What do you want with me?" She whispered, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror and Damon just let his mouth hang open. When he didn't answer right away, she sat back in her seat and wringing her hands, she started to cry. Damon could hear her heart thudding wildly. She was alive. "Where are you taking me?" Narrowly missing a dog that had walked in front of the car, Damon looked at her in the mirror and saw that her hair was whipping around her head. 
"Shut the fucking door," he yelled again, not knowing why he was so angry all of a sudden, it rose like a white flash and he had to consciously stop himself from doing anything drastic, realizing that he sounded just like the people he hated. "Before I have to go back there and do it myself," he added. Luna leaned over and pulled the door closed with a satisfying silence of the night air. With nothing else to say, and the uncomfortable silence building, Damon was just beginning to get his bearings when he noticed lights quickly gaining behind him. 
"Who are you?" Came the small voice from the backseat.
Damon just glanced back at her and bit his lip, not knowing whether it was a personal attack. She seemed to be genuine. The accident must've hurt her. She had amnesia, she was sick. "My name's Damon," he said. 
"Where are you taking me?" She had her hands on her lap. 
"Hold on," he said as turned a corner at full speed and Luna slid across the seat and out of his line of vision.  
"Stop the car," she cried. "Let me out."
The lights from the van were almost blinding him so he flipped up the rear view mirror, and he couldn't see his Bella anymore, either. His was pumped for a fight, but since he knew his chances were slim since he had no idea how to get back to the city, and he'd probably rammed momentarily, he thought if he could talk some sense into her, she may become useful. 
"My name is Damon," he said, his eyes glued to the road, "You know me, don't you remember?"
"I don't know you," she said. "I've never met you before."
"Don't you remember anything before the accident?"
There was silence for a moment then suddenly she was screaming at the top of her lungs, "Let me out!"
Damon was tempted to reach back and make her shut up, but resisted. He was losing control of the situation very quickly. He doubted that he'd ever had any control over it. "Shut up." Without thinking but knowing that he couldn't take anymore, Damon turned the wheel and slammed on the breaks, pulling into a private driveway that was surrounded by woods. It looked like a long road because Damon couldn't even see where it led, but instead of driving down, he stopped in the middle of it and opened the door. 
Luna hesitated in trying to escape, and it's what kept her from running free. Before she'd even reached the trees, he was behind her. But, instead of pulling her back, he put one arm around her waist and the other over her mouth, pushing her further into the woods, and lifting her a few inches from the ground to carry her through the trees. When he heard the van pull up, he stopped and held Luna close to his body, feeling her pulse through her skin, and smelled her. He hadn't wanted to give up his position to the men in the car because it would easy enough for them to identify him dragging her through the woods, but he also couldn't believe she was there with him, still alive. He only wished that no one would be able to hear her breathing.
No one called out his name, or gave him a chance to surrender the girl, the black shadows just split up and started combing the woods. He made himself move, and no matter how hard he squeezed her, Luna still struggled and whimpered against him. He could hear them, felt them moving further away. Not enough men to cover both sides of the woods, and they'd gone straight out of the passengers side. Damon was expecting to find a huge estate hidden back in the woods, but when he finally saw lights, they turned out to be streetlights. The highway was empty, slick from rain, and silent except the car idling on the shoulder of the opposite side. There was a shadow sitting in the driver's seat, and Damon hesitated as he left the covering of trees, not sure if it was all just a trap. When the person in the car didn't move, he took a few steps into the wet grass, Luna still pulled up against his chest. He walked straight towards the car, knowing more than anything in his life that there was a reason for that car, that nothing in the world was just coincidence. The motor in the whined and the window came down.
 "Boo!" Cried the man behind the glass, and then started laughing hysterically. It was the last person Damon had expected to see, even if he'd had a chance to narrow it down in the seconds it had taken him to cross, and even though the person had saved his life once before. Damon just stood there, still standing where he'd been when the window began rolling, two steps past the striped yellow double line, with a wriggling human in his arms. Once he'd calmed his laughter, Michael seemed annoyed that Damon wasn't amused. "Come on, then. Someone's had to have heard us by now." 
Right at that moment, Damon was never so glad to hear a familiar voice. His instinct was to fall to his knees in relief, but he could do nothing else but lean Luna against the side of the car. As soon as his hand was gone from her mouth, she inhaled to let out a scream, but Damon caught her and covered her mouth before she could. 
Michael held his finger out, a small length of duct tape stuck to the tip. Damon grinned and took the tape, had a full vision of something which had been a fantasy for him when he was alive, and put it over Luna's warm mouth. He loved those lips, wanted badly to bite them off.
"Put her in the trunk," Michael said, and Damon heard the corresponding release of the trunk lock.  "Trust me, it'll be much easier this way." 
Damon thought for a moment that he couldn't do it, but as he looked back and forth between the trunk and his Bella he had to admit to himself that time was running short and the last thing he needed was for Luna to do something crazy like jump out of a moving car. And well, if Michael told you to do something, you couldn't very well tell him no, unless of course you had reason to believe that he was out to get you. Luna half turned and tried to kick him in the groin but Damon reached into the open window of the back seat to pick up the rope. Michael had thought of everything.
As Damon tied Luna's hands behind her, she whimpered, tears fell from her eyes, and it was harder and harder to tell himself that he was the good guy. Good guys didn't usually do things like tie up girls and stick them in the trunks of cars.  Still, in his Machiavellian attitude that tended to take over every once in a while, he had to admit that getting her out was a small step in his ultimate goal. He just hoped that Luna would hurry up and remember who he was because if it came down to it, he couldn't blame her if she hated him for the rest of her life for doing what he was doing to her. 
Damon picked her up and managed not to drop her despite her squirming. It looked as if Michael had cleared out the trunk in advance, which was a great help. "I'm sorry," Damon told her, just before he closed the trunk. He hoped she could breathe in there as he closed the trunk, made his way around and then got in next to his friend. He sat there, silently, as if Michael were his father picking him up from school after he'd just been suspended. 
Damon felt embarrassed, partly by the fact that he'd never had a father to pick him up when he was in trouble, so it didn't seem to fit now. The real hesitancy was because he didn't know for sure whether Michael was the most helpful person he'd met, or the most bored. Damon was waiting for a story, an explanation as to how and why he'd found him, but Michael just grinned at him sideways and pulled the car onto the road, allowing Damon to breathe a sigh of relief that felt good in his dry and cracking lungs. Oh, man he was getting old. Damon grinned back and thanked the person upstairs, even though he didn't think it would make a difference, Damon being one of the unwanted, they were shunned by Him, couldn't even consider touching anything Holy. And it wasn't superstition, it wasn't just legend. They were the kind that God turned away, cast off and damned them to roam the earth forever so that they may never meet Him.
"How did you know?" Damon asked finally. 
Michael just shook his head, raised his eyebrows. He looked more than happy to be out in the cool night with all the windows down, rescuing Damon and his girlfriend from certain death. "You've certainly gotten yourself into an interesting situation."
Damon shrugged then turned his whole upper body towards Michael. "You can just see everything then?"
Michael's grin faded a bit and he looked like he didn't know how to answer the question. He opened his mouth then closed it, glancing at Damon face, seeming to think that his first answer wasn't something that would satisfy him. He shook his head. "I don't know. How do I know what's everything""
Damon shrugged then sat back in the seat. Interesting question. "Does she really not remember me?"
Michael took a deep breath and held it for a moment. "Kris seems to have done his research, I'll tell you that. The stuff they can do nowadays, it's really impressive, man. I mean, he's structurally altering her brain in his favor. It will eventually eliminate most of her memories and all of her typical neurological instincts. I'm not a scientist or anything, but I've seen it before, vampires that are turned like that, and they're kind of off. It's like they can never really focus on one world."
"She's still alive," Damon pointed out.
"Just barely," Michael countered. "It was a car accident that I saw."
Damon nodded. Car accident. She must've been badly injured if she was the sole survivor. Damon swallowed and ran his hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. "Does it ever go away? If she's never turned."
Michael shrugged. "Sure, I guess it would wear off over time. If it was something the body couldn't fight, it would've killed her already. The body eventually fights it off." He acted as if he were saying, "Sure, if you'd want to do that sort of thing, you know, let her live."
"It hasn't been long since the accident." Michael didn't reply. "Kris hasn't had her long."
Michael raised his eyebrows and nodded. "He's had her long."
Damon bit his lip until it bled to keep from getting angry and focused on the long stretch of road, then turned to look at the empty highway behind them. Searching carefully for headlights. He glanced at Michael before leaning back and deciding that somehow, they'd managed to lose them.
"Will they look for me at your apartment?" Damon asked him.
"Does it matter?" Michael glanced at him. "Do you really think you can fight and win? With no help from Luna? You know who she'll pick."
Damon shook his head. No, not an option. "I'll make her remember." He knew that Michael thought he was being soft, blinded by love, and all the other bullshit he used to say about those poor suckers before him. He sighed. "You don't understand. I just can't give up on her." He remembered something that Michael had told him what seemed like years ago and he smiled. "She's my soul mate."
Michael shook his head and snickered, glancing at him. "Your words, not mine." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, along with the music. "Man, sometimes I wish I just had a cigarette."
Damon nodded and pulled out his lighter, flipped the top. "Me too. Jesus, I always thought that I'd be free from cravings at my death."
"Can I just tell you one more thing before we change the subject?" Michael asked, glancing in the rear view mirror. Damon turned too. Empty streets.
"Yeah, go ahead."
"You can't keep her," Michael glanced at him. "This, I know for sure."
Damon shook his head. "I'll hide her."
"Come on, Damon you know you can't keep her. What do you think you're doing?" Michael asked, angry, as if Damon was ruining his life too. Or maybe Michael was the type to get angry with people who knowingly and deliberately try to get themselves killed.
Damon narrowed his eyes, wanted to pretend that good guys could ultimately win. "So, what? You came out here to tell me to give up?"
"No, I'm not telling you to give up and go back to Lilith. What, are you crazy? That's suicide. What I am telling you is to let me pull over, pop the trunk, and drop that bitch off on the side of the road. Let Kris have her, okay? That's what I'm telling you." Michael had turned in his seat and was pointing at him. "This girl, she is not worth your time. From now on, she's only trouble, from here on out. I'm telling you. Only trouble."
Damon wanted to tell him that there was no need for him to keep repeating himself, but he bit his tongue and shook his head, more to himself, more to remind himself that yes, he should listen to Michael, he knew better than to ignore his advice, but his heart wouldn't let him tell Michael to pull over. He almost snickered out loud to that remark. His heart wouldn't let him. His heart couldn't do anything. He was dead. Damon swallowed hard. "Michael, I can't let her go. I'm sorry."
Michael looked out the driver's side window then back at him. "You've been lucky so far, you know that? You don't know how lucky because I don't have the heart to tell you."
"Well, thank you," Damon said, and felt bad that it came out sarcastic because he knew that it needed to be said, and meant. He didn't know why Michael wasted his time helping him out, being a friend, when Damon never returned the favor. Michael didn't respond, just kept his hands on the wheel and hummed along with the song. "Hey, how long have you been dead?"
Michael glanced at him, then into the rear view mirror. "Not sure, why?"
Damon shrugged. "I don't know. Just curious, I guess. How did you become a vampire?"
Michael hesitated. "I know you haven't been around long, but you should know that we don't really like to talk about things like that."
"I know," Damon said, because he'd felt the same way. "But why is that?"
Michael just shrugged and tugged at his bottom lip in a way that made Damon even sadder. It was the most human thing Michael had ever done, and he could picture him all of a sudden, a young guy just like himself, a soldier, a victim. Then, he had a really scary thought. Lilith as a child, as a young woman, as a wife, a sister, a mother. He shuddered. There was something about picturing Lilith holding a baby that just made him want to rip his hair out. 

Can't Just Walk Away. There Was Nothing Before Him. 
The Lion's Den. To the Death.

Michael went right upstairs, didn't even pause to help Damon take Luna out of the trunk. She blinked wide eyed in the glare of the street lights and he saw that there was still fear in her eyes. He almost wished at that moment, standing alone in the street that he'd just turned his back and let Kris win. But, love can't let you just walk away. Damon wasn't perfect, but leaving her without even trying, made it seem that their meeting in the first place was a waste of time, their love making worthless, and all the love he'd given her just a sham.  
Damon glanced around to make sure no one was on the street to witness his removal of the bound and gagged body in his trunk. He was alone though, and Luna didn't put up much of a struggle, at least not as much as he'd expected. He carried her over his threshold like his bride, his Bella, like his whole world was in his arms. 
Michael was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and hands folded neatly on his lap. "So, what are you planning to do with the human as we sleep?" He asked as if he expected Damon would just drop the dead weight and give it all up.
Damon sighed and pulled Luna into the apartment, shutting the door with a bang that made her jump. Her heart was beating, but sounded irregular. There was something wrong with her. Maybe it was the fear, but maybe really it was something else, the accident. Her eyes were wild when he spoke to her, and he realized they had faded from a dark almost black brown to a hazel color, beautiful but not her own.  He leaned in close to her face to make her focus on his. "Do you remember this place?" Luna just shook her head, tried to pull out of his grasp, but he just pulled her right back. When he saw her tears it made something in his blood boil. "Jesus, will you stop crying for like five minutes?" He yelled at her, and then ran his hand through his hair.  "I don't know how or where I'm going to get her to sleep," he said to Michael. "Do you have any suggestions?"
"Sleeping pills?" He said, shrugging.
Damon narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to drug her."
"It's not like I just told you to shoot her up with some morphine. Shit, give her cough syrup for all I care," Michael said, turning back to the TV which Damon had reason to believe held no interest for him at all.
Damon shook his head. "You got a closet?"

The next night Damon opened the door to find Luna slumped against the back wall of the dusty closet with her eyes closed. He could tell by her breathing that she was more than just sleeping, she'd lost consciousness. He knelt down and shook her, but she didn't respond. He was so hungry having fed early the night before that he was tempted to take a bite from her neck, but he didn't want to scare her any more than necessary. Once she remembered, he was sure she'd be more than willing to accommodate him. The problem was, of course, getting her to come around. Damon whispered her name, and turned her face to him, slowly and painfully he was sure, pulling the duct tape from her mouth so she'd be able to breathe better. Some of the gray plastic bits stuck to her skin around her mouth but Damon didn't know where he'd seen a more beautiful one. When the removal of the duct tape got him no response, Damon couldn't help but feel a bit panicky and felt mildly, although he could still hear her heartbeat, like he'd killed her. 
He untied her hands to make her easier to move, then thought better of moving her until Michael had a look at her too. There was something about hurt people, you always see in movies that they say don't move them, you could make them worse. He pushed the ropes aside and called Michael's name. When there was no response, he walked to the front door and then took a few steps out to look into the hallway.
When he turned around he found Michael standing outside of his bedroom, holding Luna's arm and it was obvious that he'd just caught her while she was trying to sneak by. Damon let his mouth drop and found it nearly impossible to believe that Luna would be able to move so fast, bordering in vampiric, but quietly and fast enough for him to have missed it. Luna opened her mouth and let out a scream and made Damon want to cover his ears, but didn't want to look weak, so he withstood the pain in his eardrums and just squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth until she was out of air and was standing there breathing hard and wondering why her scream hadn't gotten a reaction. Michael snickered and informed her that the only humans in the building were either prisoners or food so she could just go on screaming until her vocal chords burst, or ripped or whatever it was that those did.
Rip, Damon thought. Vocal chords rip. 
"What are you smiling about?" Michael asked him, looking tired and pissed off, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep.
Damon shook his head. "Thanks," was all he could say. Something about the look on Michael's face made him feel like this time Damon was close to crossing a line. "I'll be more attentive." He paused, not sure how to go on. "You know, I can go somewhere Michael. She and I can get lost. You don't have to do this." Damon didn't know why he didn't leave but instead was waiting for Michael to ask him to move on. Maybe because he had no where else to go.
 "Damon, the problem with you is that you don't understand the way things work. You're not in your human existence anymore. This is something above and beyond that. The pathetic part is that you're willing to risk it all for this," Michael said, looking at Luna not like the beautiful woman she was, but like he would a cockroach. And, as if Michael realized he was still touching her, he pushed her onto the floor with such force that Damon took a step forward to stop the violence from going any further.  "Look at you," Michael said. "Look at what you've become. But you know what? It's my fault because I knew this, I saw all of it but I still let it happen, didn't I?" Michael had a hand on his forehead and he was shaking his head. It was the first time that Damon wondered just how together Michael really was. "Because if you'd had the choice, you would've wanted it this way, even if you knew you couldn't keep her, because that's the kind of guy you are. You're a fucking hero, my friend. Congratulations. You can pay for it with your life."
Damon didn't like it, but Michael was right. Not even the threat of death from someone who truly knew how real the threat was, would be enough to make him walk away. When Michael saw that Damon didn't have anything to say in response, he went back into his bedroom and shut the door. Damon wondered what he did in there, there was no TV, nothing but a bed and a small closet, all covered in dust, bloody glasses and milk bottles. Luna was sitting where Michael had left her, crying on the floor. He sat down next to her, looked into her red eyes and asked her if she knew who he was.
Luna looked at him, still breathing hard, her heart beating fast, and still there was nothing there. She shook her head and just looked like she wanted to run again. "I don't know you," she whispered.
"My name is Damon."
"I don't care." She said, refusing to look at him.
Damon paused, not sure how to respond without sounding like a madman. "I want to keep Kris from hurting you."
Luna met his eyes and he saw how they wouldn't quite focus. An itch began in the back of his brain, something was familiar about the look, not directly relating to Luna but more like something from his previous life, but he couldn't place it. "He doesn't hurt me," she said.
"Luna," he started, but she interrupted in a fit of anger that startled him.
"How do you know my name?"
Damon grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, not even sure what he wanted to do to her, but needing to feel her skin against his. It wasn't quite as warm as he remembered, and that scared him. "Luna, you used to know me before the accident. Don't you remember anything before the accident?" She tried to pull her hand away but he was too strong and just held it tighter. She didn't seem to want to have anything to do with memories, she just wanted to be returned to Kris. "Stop," he said, then repeated himself when she didn't. Finally, she stopped struggling and looked at him like she was about to slap his face. 
"Let me go." Luna's words were slow and deliberate.
"What did he tell you about before the accident? What lies did he tell you?" Damon felt anger growing in him and he tried his best to control it. 
"You don't know anything," Luna accused. "You weren't there." She was holding back tears, and was still struggling and trying to stand but Damon wouldn't let go. He didn't loosen his grip and didn't care about hurting her anymore.
"Well, who were you before the accident?" He asked, planning on challenging her until her memories came back. Although he knew he hadn't been able to force his own human memories. "What about your family? You lived quite a few years before that accident, didn't you?"
"He's always taken care of me," she said in a voice that he didn't recognize. She was fighting with her own mind to hold her memories back, he didn't know why and it was frustrating for him to see her that way.
"He lies to you," Damon said, grabbing her hair at the nape of the neck and pulling her face up to his, pulling back his lips and letting her see his fangs, "Tell me what you remember before him."
"There was nothing before him," she said, her eyes not on his, but on the white incisors in his mouth. 
It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. "You were a child once," he said in a whisper, "You went to grade school, grew up." Things he'd known from their feeding slipped back and resurface. He'd felt her.  "You almost got married once. You flunked out of college because you didn't try hard enough, and ended up working in some dead end diner in the city. Who knows you?" He demanded. Luna had her eyes closed and she had stopped struggling. Damon let go and half pushed her head away. It sickened him that she was so much like their kind when she was obviously human. She smelled refreshing, clean, alive.
Luna kept her eyes closed, breathing deeply, like she was sleeping. "I remember," she said. "I remember you leaning over me on the bed with blood dripping from your mouth." She opened her eyes and looked at him, like prey that had realized after it was too late that it had been stalked for hours. "I remember you."
Damon knew the fact that he'd tied her up and locked her in a trunk wasn't going to help his case. "Do you remember when we made love," he said, and kept talking even when she openly scoffed at the idea, "And instead of leaving, you asked me to stay."
She cut him off. "You took me away from Kris, tied me up and put me in the trunk or a car." She made a scramble to stand up but he caught her ankle and pulled her back next to him. 
 "You loved me once," he said, and had to admit it came out savagely.
"You're going to let me go," she said steadily, "Because even if I did love you once, I do not love you now. And, you're hurting me, and I want to go home." Damon took a deep breath and opened his mouth, not sure what he even wanted to say, but she continued, "I don't know who you think you are, but Kris will find me, and he'll take me away from you, and he'll kill you."
Damon knew it was probably true. He was running out of options, and really it was a miracle that he was even still alive. God had spared him for some reason, he didn't know why, but he was grateful just the same. It was ironic that first time he'd ever considered God, was the time when he had no possibility of ever being on His good side. "You'll remember."  One of the frustrating parts was seeing Luna, an independent woman, who'd stood up to Damon and tried to take on an evil incestuous family, was reduced to some submissive slave.
Damon stood up and pulled her up with him. He didn't know what to do. Probably find her something to eat, and keep her quiet until he decided where they would go. Michael came out of his room again, stood there for a moment and examined them. "Does she remember anything?" He asked, but Damon wondered if he really just already knew the answer and was trying to twist the knife a little deeper.
"Some things," Damon said, which was the truth, and looked at her. Luna returned the look with absolutely no sign of affection. "I think things are going pretty well," he said, and couldn't help but grin at Michael, who just shook his head.
 "Aren't you going to feed that thing?" Michael leaned against the door frame. 
Damon nodded and turned to Luna. "What do you want to eat?" She looked like she wanted to spit in his face, but didn't do anything, just continued to glare. Damon slapped his forehead, trying to look comical, maybe make her smile. That would've been nice to see. "That's right. Chinese. You like Chinese."
"I hate Chinese food," she said. She wasn't going to make it any easier for him, and he realized that he would've been surprised if things had been any different. It's just the way she was, he wouldn't have expected any less. "I want a steak, rare."
"A steak? I didn't think you were a big meat eater," Damon said, scratching his head.
"It's what Kris feeds me," she said, emphasizing the name. Damon wanted to throw up.
He gritted his teeth. "I guess I can do that. But you're going into the closet until I get back."
Luna shook her head and gave him the pleading eyes, but he led her back into the closet and tying her hands without once looking at her face. 

When Damon came back with a rare steak from the nearby restaurant, he'd decided that he was going to feed from Luna. Originally, he'd wanted to hold off and have her give in to him willingly, but the temptation was just too much and he wasn't sure she'd ever come around. 
When he opened the door to the apartment, he noticed the figure standing in the doorway of Luna's closet. It wasn't until the person turned his head that Damon saw that it was Michael standing there, looking down at Luna. There was a strange energy in the room, and Damon felt like he'd walked in on something obscene. He paused in the doorway, afraid for a moment that Michael had done something awful, but when Michael stepped aside, he could see Luna cowering in the corner where he'd left her, looking more or less in mint condition. Damon walked in, not sure what was going to happen when Michael came towards him. He felt like there was something wrong with the scene and that it may be something that Michael would take out on Damon if he couldn't take it out on Luna. 
Michael moved away from the doorway and met Damon's eyes but didn't speak until Damon sidestepped at the last minute and blocked the entrance to his bedroom. "What were you doing with her?"
Michael rolled his eyes. "She was screaming."
"And?" Damon raised his eyebrows.
Michael shrugged. "I needed to shut her up." Damon moved out of the way and Michael walked past him, but Damon still felt uneasy as he went to check on Luna. She looked more frantic then ever. He thought, as he untied her hands again, that maybe she'd known deep down that Damon wouldn't really hurt her.
As soon as Luna's hands were loose, she wrapped them around his neck and hugged him tight. "What the matter?" He whispered into her hair.
"He was going to hurt me," she breathed, "He was going to do something horrible."
It was too much for him and he stopped caring about her safety, about her fear, about their future and before he could do anything to try and resist, Damon sunk his teeth into her neck, and she was gasping and trying to pull away. When he didn't let up on his grip she stopped fighting and relaxed against his body, but he couldn't forgot the sound of her initial shock. Her thoughts were well guarded despite her fear. She was used to being fed from now. He saw himself as a monster in her eyes, and it was true that she had no memories of the night they made love, of the fun they'd had when they were together. He didn't know how to recover them for her, all he knew was that although he could've easily created new memories, better ones, she wouldn't let him. 
Damon left her unconscious on the floor of the closet, her food on the floor next to her, and the padlock on the outside of the door, which had been there long before Damon brought her home, made sure that she wouldn't be going anywhere. He knocked on Michael's door, and heard Michael call for him to come in. The room was the same, and Michael was lying on the dirty mattress under the U.S. flag with his arms under his head, looking up at the ceiling. "Do you really think it's such a good idea?" Michael asked him before he could say anything. "Asking them for help when you betrayed them once."
"I don't know," Damon admitted, "But I have no place else to go. Maybe they could hide me, help take down Lilith's castle, or just take Luna some place far away where Kris can never find her."
"She's part of him now. He sees her dreams," Michael said. He didn't seem to care either way about it, it was just a fact. 
"Just tell me where to find Kenny. He'll help. He owes me one."
"I'll help you," Michael said as he stood up. "But you're liable to bring the sheep right into the lion's den. Just remember that."
Damon sighed, nodded. Michael put on a jacket and led him out of the apartment, and for the first time since Damon had known him, Michael locked the door before they left. 

The new offices were heavily guarded and were situated in a very nice part of the city. Maybe they were tired of run down buildings, or maybe they figured they'd make themselves harder to find if they hid amongst humans. Damon's presence seemed to create a big disturbance in their evening. He saw faces, glowing green eyes, in the windows and several vampires, including Kenny, came down to meet him on the street where he and Michael had sat on the curb waiting for over an hour.
Kenny was the only one who offered Damon his hand when they approached. The others just glared. Damon remembered them all, not by name but by faces, something he'd always been able to do. 
"Good to see you," Kenny said, looking pleased that Damon had surgically removed himself from the dragon's ass.
"Glad to be here. Looks like you've moved up in the world." He felt like a jerk standing there with his hands on his pockets, crawling back to the people he'd abandoned. It seemed like he always went crawling back to someone. Never could quite get the hang of being a hero.
"You like it? We thought it'd be harder to find, but apparently not," Kenny said, glancing from the building to the two of them. 
"This is Michael. He's a friend," Damon said.
Kenny nodded but didn't offer a hand. "Would you like to come in?"  
Damon hesitated, not liking the feeling he was getting and the fact that Michael hadn't moved or said anything. No telling what they wanted to do with him. "I just wanted to talk to you in private for a minute," Damon said.
Kenny looked uncertainly at the two others who'd come out with him, they just appeared stern and unforgiving. "I think I'd feel more comfortable if went inside to talk."
Damon looked at the others too and wasn't sure that he wanted to take one foot off of that sidewalk. Damon opened his mouth to say a flat out no, but he just closed it again and chose his words better.  "I didn't come here to pretend that I'm an ally. I came here to ask for help from friends."
Kenny seemed more uncomfortable and looked around the sidewalk to see if anyone had over heard, but they were alone on the street. Downtown closed at five promptly and there were seldom people on the streets after dark.  It was a perfect place for their offices. "Look, Damon. The street isn't exactly the best place to talk about this."
Damon glanced up to the window of the third floor and saw a quick shadow move from his view. He swallowed hard and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have to walk away."
Kenny took a step forward when Damon took a step back. "Look, Damon, don't do this." He sounded like he was pleading for his own life, and it suddenly occurred to Damon how easy it would've been for Lilith to take over their organization if she really wanted to. Lucas was gone, and if the people could see how easily she'd taken them out, what would stop her from doing the same to them? He could imagine how scared he'd be if he was sitting at a desk in the office and Lilith had just breezed in, looking like some kind of demon, and Kris with the sword that had killed his own leader. 
"Stop right there," Damon said, putting his hand out to emphasize his seriousness. Damon glanced at Michael for advice but his friend had no emotion on his face. 
Kenny didn't take another step. Damon took the opportunity to back his way into a dark alley and make it ten blocks in two minutes before slowing down long enough to give Michael a look that told him he was about to just give up and die right there in the middle of the street.
"Look," Michael said, putting his hand on Damon's shoulder making him come to a stop. "Damon, I have to give you credit. You came a lot farther than I thought you would. As soon as I met you I said, 'This is a nice guy, but he isn't going to last long.' You've followed your heart Damon, I have to give you that much. But you have to realize that if God just handed us whatever we wanted, we'd never learn anything, we'd never know integrity or to truly appreciate anything." Damon started walking again, feeling disgusted. The last thing he wanted to talk about was God. Michael put his hand on his shoulder to stop him again. "What I mean to say is that maybe you wouldn't love Luna if you didn't have to fight so hard to win her."
"I thought I'd never win her," Damon challenged, crossed his arms to keep from punching his friend in the face. "You said that."
"I'm not the writer of the story, I just get to see it before anyone else," Michael said, and kept walking. 
"God," Damon said, following. He was angry. "He's barred us from the gates of heaven, Michael. He's cursed us to walk these streets forever. He hates us, and what I want to know is, if God didn't want us, who's the screw up who accidentally kept us walking and talking?"
Michael took a deep breath and Damon could tell that he was choosing his words carefully. "God doesn't make mistakes. He knew that we would be walking down this exact street at this exact time, do you know that?"
Damon gave Michael his best 'yeah, right' look and just shook his head. "He gave us free will. We make our own destinies."
"All of the stories in the universe are written by the same hand, Damon. That doesn't mean He made bad things happen to you, it means He knows the story before it happens. Why else do you think I have this gift? I have faith that if God gave me this gift that He still loves us, His cast-offs, His monsters, His parasites, and really Damon, I don't think there's any reason to be angry about it. You've seen it first hand; there are demons in the world. What I also know is that we're not evil, not if we refuse to be, which is something you've proven already."
Damon nodded, taking it all in. They were approaching the apartment building and Michael came to a complete stop and faced him. Damon looked up at the building and took a deep breath. "I'm leaving."
"She's not there, Damon." Again, no emotion on Michael's face. "I just thought you should know that before you come up."
Damon swallowed and paused. Nothing went through his head at that moment, his mind was taking a mental break. Then, the world came back to normal and he was back, the loneliest man ever born, the perpetual loser, the Charlie Brown of his generation. "Goodbye, Michael," Damon said, not meeting his eyes.
"He would've killed you," Michael said, as if it would've made a difference. As if he'd known Damon would've been stupid enough to do something like fight back for once.
"I know," Damon said. There was a moment of silence between them where he felt like Michael was waiting for him to say something, waiting for some lash out of anger, but Damon wasn't sure what he felt. Mostly he felt tired. "I'm not going say thank you," Damon said, which was the only thing that he wanted Michael to know above all. He wondered if there was any way that Michael would've let him be happy, any chance that he would've forgiven Damon for falling in love with a human. 
"Maybe you should go," Michael said, and turned his head to look up and down the street. "They'll be out looking for you."
That was it, their business was done. Damon nodded and took a step backwards off the sidewalk. Good riddance. And the only reason I don't kill you is because in some fucked up way I owe you something. You're just making sure I'm alive long enough to pay it back, aren't you?
Michael called him back and Damon stopped where he was across the street and turned back. "I know it seems like they've won, but you've got to realize that this isn't going to end until one of you is dead. It's not too late in the game. God will take any pure soul into heaven, so in that case I want to let you know that you've probably got a better chance than most."
"What about you, Michael?" Damon asked, wanting to make it sound like a dig, but he thought he sounded more like a kid. "Are you at peace with Him?"
Michael grinned at him suddenly, and shrugged his shoulders. "If I were, I'd be human, wouldn't I?"
Wouldn't he? Interesting thought. Damon ran his hand through his hair.  Michael was walking away, and Damon was left alone in the street wondering what being human had to do with being right with God. 

Her Apartment and the Why. 

Damon wandered around for a bit, wondering what would've happened if he hadn't been picked by Lilith. If he'd decided not to stay with her. If he'd never met Adrienne. If he'd forgotten about Luna. It would've been easy to forget, then. 
Damon didn't know why his legs tortured him, but he recognized Luna's block from the color of the sidewalk, the smell of the cleaners on the corner, the familiar cars and finally, the white frosted glass entrance doors with green trim. Was Adrienne there? Had they given up on Luna yet? No, it hadn't been long enough, not like how long he'd been missing. He wondered if his stuff had long been given to charity, his mom given up the idea that he'd walk back into her life. But standing there under street light, there was no way that Damon could keep walking down that alley. He'd have to stand in that room one last time, see if any scent remained on her sheets, remember what her warm weight had felt like next to him. And maybe, he'd be able to tell if Kris had taken Luna back there before he locked her up. Maybe he'd taken her back to get clothes, or maybe she'd wanted pictures of her family. 
Damon felt better once he was in the back alley and saw that all of the lights were out. Adrienne wasn't in. Maybe she was too afraid to be there since Luna's disappearance. The first step on the fire escape was the hardest. It was hard for him to walk up knowing that Luna wouldn't be curled up tight in that bed, and she'd never be there again. Chances were that if Kris brought her anywhere, it was his club in the city, or maybe he'd just find a new hiding place for her. 
It was no wonder that Adrienne wasn't sleeping at the apartment anymore, the lock on the window was broken. Damon slid inside but paused, just inside the windowsill because he realized that there was someone in the bed breathing deeply. New tenant? No, the room was the same. He could see the makeup and nail polish bottles on the dresser, the fish tank, the Mexican lady poster. Damon didn't know what to do, couldn't dismiss the thought that maybe it was Luna under those sheets, but he was too afraid to believe it. He managed to maneuver into the apartment by pulling both legs in and then stepping over the corner of the bed. He did it soundlessly and quickly, keeping sure not to wake the sleeping human. He slid over to the light switch and flicked it on, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the pain of brilliant light, and then opened them. 
Even avoiding the visual shock, it took Damon a moment to comprehend that it was Harvey sitting up in the bed looking at Damon with about as much shock as he felt.  "What the fuck?" Damon said, not sure if he was angry.
Harvey didn't give him a chance to move.  He ripped a silver cross from his neck and held it up by the chain. "Don't move," he said.
Damon took a step back. He already had one scar on his palm in the sign of the cross. Everything else had healed except for that. "What are you doing here?" Damon asked, his back was against the door. "You were supposed to be dead."
Harvey shook his head and seemed to relax that Damon hadn't expected him to be there, but didn't lower his weapon. "I don't know how long I was out but I came to and crawled out from under the car. My dad was unconscious and I couldn't pull him out," he said, mimicking the motions, "I think he was stuck snug around the middle, but I couldn't even tell if he was breathing, you know? And they were coming, I heard them pull up, and my Dad had always said, if there's ever a question about whether I will live or die, you turn around and you run. They're not supposed to win, you know? Because the war still goes on as long as people are fighting and I had to keep fighting. I didn't even know if he was alive or not, I had to leave him behind." He paused and put his hands back on his lap. "I hid in the bushes until they left. They must've heard police because they didn't even look for me. They took my Dad, though. But I just don't think they'd take a dead body, right? What do they need with a dead human body?" Damon knew exactly what they could do with one. "What are you doing here? You were with them, weren't you? You left with them. That demon bitch, you know her."
Damon took a deep breath, put his hands in his pockets to keep from scratching himself. "Casual acquaintance," he said, and then swallowed. "I went with them. I also helped Luna escape, but they took her back." He knew Harvey was wondering why Damon was still standing there in one piece. "I had no where else to go, so I came here thinking maybe he'd bring her back to get some clothes or," He trailed off, knowing that it was pointless and Harvey had been there for the same reason, because he was nodding and lowering the sign of God, letting it slip through his fingers and hang limp around his neck.
Harvey nodded and looked down at the carpet. "I didn't know what to do afterwards.  I didn't want to go home because they'd, of course, look for me there. I thought maybe he'd bring her back here, too. Adrienne was too scared to be here by herself, so I told her if she wanted to leave for a couple of weeks, I'd stay in case Luna came back." Harvey looked sad and lonely, the same that Damon felt, and it was the first time that Damon thought that maybe they'd ever be friends. "Did you see my Dad where you were?"
Damon shook his head and sat down on Luna's computer chair. "I asked about him and you, Lilith wouldn't give me a straight answer."
"I thought maybe he was dead, but I don't know. I guess I kind of always figured that if someone that important to you died, that you'd just know down inside. I mean, I figured you've got to know." Damon nodded. He understood. "But, they wouldn't take a dead body. It's almost useless. I have this feeling that there's still a chance for him."
"Yeah," Damon said, agreeing and looked back down at the scar in the palm of his right hand. "I know exactly what you mean."
"So, she'd dead, isn't she? Luna. She's one of you?" He hated the tone in Harvey's voice. The love tone. Luna must've been something special to him too.
Damon shook his head. "No, she's alive, just not coherent. She doesn't remember much of anything before the accident. I was told a lot of it had to do with the blood that Kris gave her."
Harvey nodded. "Yeah, it makes them forget, takes over their entire minds. I imagine that due to loss of blood, Kris decided to pump her full of his own to revive her." He shrugged. "That would be my guess." He shook his head. "He's pushing her to the limit, nudging her closer to that line." Harvey paused. "So, you know there's only one thing we can do now." Damon looked at him and Harvey's eyes weren't quite focused. "We've got to get them out, or else they're dead."
Damon nodded, feigned agreement. "Or we could move on," Damon said, "And leave this place. Start over. It's not too late for you."
The look in Harvey's eyes told him it wasn't an option. "You've gone this far, why stop now?" 
Damon shrugged. "Maybe because they always win? Because there's no chance in hell that we'll be able to get those two out of that house alive."
"There are two of us now." Harvey sounded like the speakers at the anti Lilith rallies they'd held. He was building to a crescendo and Damon wanted to, but didn't roll his eyes. "Don't you think we're stronger together? I mean, there's got to be a reason that we've both survived this long against them, and then were brought here together again. That's got to mean something, right?"
He sounded like Luna. Damon smiled but couldn't meet Harvey's eyes. He thought of kissing Luna the way he'd kissed her before all of the mess. That alone was worth it when he had nothing else to live for. "It means something," Damon admitted. But that was as far as he went. He didn't want to talk about what would probably happen to them in the end. But, if his mission in the afterlife was to end it all while trying to save his true love, well why not? It was better than living forever with no purpose. 
Harvey looked satisfied with his answer and sat back up. He was somber a moment later, as if he remembered their chances of survival. "Can I ask you something personal?" Damon didn't respond, just waited for the question. "It's just because I always wondered, and I've never had anyone to ask before." He seemed embarrassed. "I've never known a vampire that I considered my friend. I think you're the closest I've ever come to that. Anyway, what I'm wondering is, what was it in your human life that made you do it?"
Damon looked at him. "Do what?"
It was Harvey's turn to look away. "It's just that I don't understand how someone could be so sad that they'd want to take their own life." 
Damon shook his head and felt a sad grin on his face. "I didn't kill myself."
Their eyes met. "Of course you did," Harvey said. "How else would you get like this?"
Damon felt a sick feeling rising in his stomach and the truth was that he didn't know why. "Lilith." He scratched the inside of his arm, hard. "It was Lilith, she killed me, brought me back." He could barely say the words without feeling like he'd throw up.
"Lilith?" Harvey asked, unbelieving. "Holy shit, Damon." He shook his head, mouth hanging open. "Okay, she was the one who chose to bring you back by feeding you her blood. But don't you realize that you must've been dead first for that to happen? It was your choice to die, Damon. It's the only way that demons can take control of you. Otherwise, God gets your soul."
Damon was shaking his head, but his hands were shaking and he was remembering something that was tickling the back of his head, something he didn't want to remember. "She killed me, she gave me her blood, she brought me back."
Harvey was becoming frustrated with the subject, and he seemed amazed that Damon was so much in the dark with things that he seemed consider basic. "Hasn't anyone explained how it works, Damon? Don't you remember anything about your death?"
Damon shook his head again, not because he didn't remember but because he was trying to forget. "No," was all he said.
"Roman Catholic law says that anyone who takes their own life will spend their entire eternity in Hell, right? No questions asked, don't pass GO, don't collect $200."  Sure. Damon was scratching so bad that he thought his skin might come off. He didn't find the joke very funny and Harvey continued, "Well, this is your Hell, so to speak. That's why God cast you off, because you didn't appreciate what he considered his greatest gift, life." Damon was rocking back and forth, clutching his stomach, trying to keep from vomiting, and trying not to listen to the words that were nonetheless hitting home for him. "That's where vampires came from. What happens is that a vampire will drink the blood right from your veins, as you are then recently deceased. Most of the time they'll feed you some of their blood too, although it's been proven that even their saliva can initiate physiological change. Once any kind of fluids is exchanged, you're infected with their virus too, which is an interesting phenomenon considering that you, at this point, would be clinically dead and your cells shouldn't be able to reproduce. Vampires are drawn to people who are depressed, who are likely to commit the act themselves, for some reason, they can smell it. It's a particularly strong pheromone according to my father. That's why you're drawn to Luna, Kris saw it too, I think even I saw it, and I'm realizing now that all of these years I've been trying to save her from the same fate."
 It was all coming up now, the memory vomit, and Damon knew why vampires didn't talk about their past lives. It was all true. He'd decided to end his life, had enough of the pain. It had been constant for as long as he remembered, he'd always been depressed, never quite fit in, always thought that people didn't like him, no matter how much they pretended they were his friends. Sure, friends, right. They thought he was an asshole, that he was fake, a jerk. Damon knew then that he must've always needed help, his mother had tried to tell him as much, but it wasn't until after he'd been fired from the studio for mistaking one of the studio talents for a janitor, that he really lost it and just holed up in his apartment with the shades drawn, stopped eating, stopped talking to anyone.. He'd completely humiliated himself after all the years of passing off as a normal guy with a positive outlook on life. 
Then some jackass fucking gangster had to dress just like Carlos, the guy who came in every night to empty out the trash. It'd been dark and he was tired, and he could trace all of his misfortunes back to that one second when he was walking out of the building and into the cold, the same parking lot he'd returned to and murdered Noelle in, and he'd turned to brush the hair out of his eyes, it was getting long then already, and the only thing he was thinking of was getting home and shooting up and he'd be so relaxed, man he won't care about that deadline at all, and there's Carlos and it came out. Hey man, could you remember to empty the trash inside the cage, and, last night you forgot it, and, shit. Shit. That was it. Why couldn't he have just shut up and forgotten the fucking trash, focused on the dope man, the fucking dope. 
 Damon was on his knees in Luna's room, pulling at his hair and Harvey was standing on the bed, trying to get as far away from him as possible, because Damon's eyes were shut tight and he was sweating and he looked like he was about to lose it.
 He'd lost any desire to function in the world after that. Well, he'd given it a great shot and it was time to stand up, dust himself off, and admit defeat. With that job out of the way he was able to devote himself to his favorite hobby. Next, the real kicker, was the messages from Giselle, yes that was her name, he could see her all red lipstick and that muddy brown hair, those eyes that were so dull now, man the fucking dope did it to her, and goddamn, what a lady she'd been once. It started with, where have you been, we're worried sick, and eventually graduated to, I can't believe you'd do this to me, we were supposed to get married, you lying stack of dog shit, I knocked on your door for hours you mother fucker, and I know you were there because I could hear you walking around, and watching TV and ignoring me when I was leaning against your door crying just wanting you to let me in, just open the door a crack and show your face. I don't want a hit from you, okay? Don't forget me, God damn it, I'm under control, I swear I'm not using, I just need your help, okay? I need a place to stay.
 Yeah right, like he was going to let her come in and take over the place and he'd find shit missing and fuck having to share his dope, fuck that shit, don't ever trust a fucking junkie. But it turned out that he couldn't even trust himself because the less he cared, the more he needed, and the years supply he'd told himself when he bought it was long gone and so was his health, his money, his friends, Giselle, and damned if he could even remember his mom's phone number but the one thing he did have were the dreams, and he held on to them. The dreams were of Lilith, which he knew now that he could remember, the dreams of the demon woman who told him how evil he was, how much he deserved to die because of the pain he caused everyone. He dreamed that he never wanted to let her in the window, how she scared him to the point where he wanted to piss in his pants, but he did, he always did, because he was helpless against her. When the withdrawals came and everything was real but just a dream, he decided he couldn't handle it anymore. He'd left his apartment then, smelling like stale sweat and freebase, and cigarette smoke, and began to walk, trying to pick the perfect place to die. Couldn't step out into traffic, and if he hadn't OD'd by then his body could handle anything so that was out. He would've slit his wrist had he found a razor, but he was drawn to the water, the bridge that led out of town. He'd walked, hours and miles in bare feet, until he came to the bridge. She was there, somewhere, and she was calling him into the water. As soon as his feet touched the cool concrete, he knew that he'd do it. The cool flesh on the white stone had sealed his fate. Damon stood there for a long time once he'd stepped over the railing, held on with both hands, trying to imagine what it would feel like to die. When, in this silence he'd heard her voice say his name, he turned to his living nightmare, her eyes wide, and he thought he saw tears, as if she were in pain. As if she'd come a long way, suffered many trials, just for that one moment, just to witness his death. He opened his mouth and his hands, and he was falling. Darkness, and then the cold stone room. He'd slipped away somewhere after the contact of the water. And he'd awoken in the puddle. When he realized that what he'd thought was sweat that night was actually water, the smell somehow made its way back to his nostrils, and Damon threw up Luna's still throbbing warm blood onto the carpet. 

Adam's First Wife. 

 "Are you okay?" Harvey was standing on the bed looking like he was going to be sick himself.
Damon was on hands and knees on the floor and he looked up at Harvey with red frown lines dripping down his face and from his eyes. "I remember." His voice was harsh and he knew then exactly how easy it was for Luna to forget.
"I don't know how we're going to clean this up," Harvey said, and although Damon found it funny that he'd think Luna would be upset about a stain on her carpet, it was impossible for him to laugh at that moment.
And even though Harvey had moved on to other things, Damon was still in the moment and his body felt so cold. "I did do it," he said. "I jumped into the water."  He swallowed. "I drowned." Damon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat back down on the chair.
Harvey began to lower himself on the bed. "Why?" 
Damon shrugged and wiped the blood off of his hands onto his shirt. "I guess I've just always been depressed." Harvey threw a towel over the stain on the carpet. Dark green towel, brown where the blood had started to soak through. Yeah, depressed, that's what you call addiction these days? 
"What religion are you?" Harvey asked, suddenly changing the subject, but Damon couldn't focus on anything else but the memory of his death.
Damon shrugged. "I don't know. I never really went to church when I was a kid. Just on Christmas and Easter. Catholic, I guess."
"Well," Harvey said, looking a little surprised, "I'm Jewish."
"Congratulations," Damon said, starting to scratch his cheek but then gritted his teeth. Lowlife junkie. Maybe he deserved his own personal hell. 
Harvey shook his head, obviously annoyed at Damon's inability to grasp the point. "What I'm trying to get at is that you can trace most of vampire history in our own human religions.  In Hebrew mythology, the tale of Adam and Eve is preceded by a brief passage that told the story of Adam's first wife, Lilith." That got Damon's attention and he sat up. "Adam hated Lilith because she'd tried to dominate him and when she wouldn't obey her husband, God cast her out of the Garden of Eden. Eve was Lilith's submissive replacement. She even continued to torment them after Eve came around, and history turns her into a living demon, a succubus if you will, that would be known to live forever by sucking the lives out of men."
Damon narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to tell me that Lilith has been around since the beginning of time?"
Harvey shook his head. "No. I don't think she's the first Lilith. But, there's something too close to the similarity, and you know what I've thought for a long time? That maybe Lilith gets her kicks out of sucking the lives out of men and maybe she chose that name on purpose. Or even, think of this, that okay, Lilith is her name but isn't there some significance in that? It just all can't be coincidence, right?"
Damon laughed out loud at this, because the truth of her name wasn't a surprise. "What's with this looking for all the signs all of a sudden?" 
Harvey hesitated. "I don't know. Just seems to me that there's a connection there. The world's too amazing to just come together by probability, don't you think?"
More God talk. He loved it. Damon shrugged and shook his head. They were both silent for a moment then a thought occurred to him. "Hey, so if the way humans become vampires is by suicide, then why is Kris bothering with the blood transfers?"
"All you need, once you're freshly deceased by your own hand, is the bite of a vampire. Kris is taking his time with her, slowly replacing her blood with his own." When Harvey spoke Damon thought he looked like a college professor, and if there wasn't a huge pool of blood on the floor, he was sure that Harvey would get up and start pacing around the room, draw diagrams, asking if Damon had any questions or needed help after school. "As more cells are produced in her body, she'll begin to physically change into her dead form."
"Well, what happens when he replaces all of it?" Damon asked, his fingernails digging into the skin around his wrist to keep from scratching. He realized what it was that made him itch. He was still dealing with withdrawal. Maybe it was of his human life, or something that he did when he was hungry, but there was no doubt where that habit had originated from. Damon had been nothing more than a fucking junkie.  
Harvey paused with his hands still stuck in their straight fingered emphasizing gesture. "What happens when her human blood is gone?" He repeated, lowering his hands. "I don't know. They've never risked testing it in a lab."
"Great," Damon growled, swiping his arm across the table and knocking off Luna's laptop and a pile of papers. 
Harvey stood up, his heart beating louder, "Hey," he protested.
"As if she's ever really coming back," Damon said, and ran his hand through his hair. "Like she's going to care what happens to this shit." When he said it, he meant everything, her furniture, her pictures, her fucking computer. He put his head down on the desk and scratched at his knee.
"Man, are you okay?" Harvey sounded like he was afraid Damon had something infectious. He'd forgotten that Damon really did.
"It's just nerves. A habit from the old days."  Damon looked up and pushed his hair back again and Harvey nodded, sitting back down.
"When Luna and I were in my Dad's lab, he told us that she'd be okay. He'd been studying people infected with the vampire virus and that later had reversal in testing."
Damon lifted his eyebrows. "How far advanced?"
"I don't know," Harvey said, flatly. Damon heard him swallow and he wanted to rip out that throat. "But we have to get them out."
Damon let that sit in the air, hanging between them like smoke. "Your father is probably dead."
Harvey shook his head and looked away. "They wouldn't have taken a dead body." Damon squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, letting his forehead fall back on the desk with an audible thud. "You don't understand," Harvey said, talking to the side of Damon's head, "They know that I'm alive."
"Why did they torch the car?" Damon demanded. 
"I don't know," Harvey said, and when Damon turned away he continued. "I don't know everything. But I know that it's important that I stay alive.                               ned away he continued.forehead fall back on the desk.ujnd                                       Us that know, we're rare. See, that's the problem. Your kind never die, they just grow stronger with time. I mean, if they were able to withstand sunlight, our species would be long gone, wouldn't we? I mean, don't you see that there is no evolution? It's all a crock of shit. Everything you learned in school." Harvey seemed to realize that he was preaching. He sat down. "Crock of shit," he said again. 
"Thanks," Damon said, sitting back in the chair and stretching out his legs, sinking his boots into the brown carpet. "But it doesn't surprise me anymore."
"What do you think?" Harvey asked.
Damon finally met his eyes. "I guess we're going in to get them." He realized how clichéd it sounded then grinned as he continued, "Or die trying, right?"
Harvey nodded and took a deep breath, and then he was laughing too. 

With Harvey's beating heart in his ears, Damon felt his better. He almost felt human, except that every time he thought about it now, brought up one or two clear memories, he was reminded that all he'd been was a fucking junkie, with no purpose in society. He could feel the usual cloud of numbness trying to take him over, but he held it back as best he could. Something was more important than him now. It seemed selfish to worry about anything else but her. 
"So, you've spent a lot of time with Lilith, right?" Harvey asked, and he sounded like he was afraid to say her name out loud, like it would make her appear out of thin air in front of them on the dark sidewalk.
"Yes." Damon almost shivered.
"I always wondered what she was like in person. I've done a lot of research on the family, but it doesn't give me much insight into the day it happened? Why would all the siblings in the family kill themselves?"
Damon shook his head, although he knew one half of the puzzle, the rape and how easy it would've been for Lilith to drown herself. As surprised as he was by the thought, he knew once it'd occurred to him that it was how Lilith had done it, just like he done it. He must've picked it up somewhere, or maybe from the time they crossed the bridge. Maybe God doesn't hate all vampires, just made them afraid of what killed them. What would Lilith be like if Kris had never touched her in the first place?  "She never told me about any of that. And all the siblings? How many were there?" Damon almost stopped dead with that realization that there were more of them.
"One other. The oldest."
Damon nodded. "Around?"
Harvey shrugged. "Not sure. Not that I've heard of."
Damon wished he'd known sooner, may have been able to find out when he was on Lilith's good side.
"They were wealthy, the family, that much we knew for sure. Their father owned several hotels in the city.  Kris was a local playboy and business man. Lilith was married to a friend of her father's. The oldest brother obscure, a recluse."
Damon snickered, couldn't think of Lilith as married and didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"
Harvey nodded. He seemed to get the hint. "Yeah, I used to have to come by here to pick up boxes and handle deliveries. Looking back, I'm glad my Dad was so paranoid. I used to think he was insane, but I guess once you get used to having monsters living among you, you can't really help but wonder what would happen if they decided they didn't like the underground anymore. You know, what if they decided they didn't want to hide anymore?"
Damon nodded and realized how close the world was to coming to that. He didn't know if Lilith would be able to pull it off, but he couldn't help but shudder at the thought of his mother as a slave to Lilith. It was a direct image that haunted his dreams and although he knew the chances of Lilith and his mother meeting where slim, he knew better than to put anything past her. "There is a group in our species that's trying to keep Lilith and Kris down too. They're trying to keep us hidden from the humans, to keep the balance there's always been."
Harvey grinned. "Where do you think we're going?" He asked, and for the first time Damon realized he was approaching the building he'd been hours earlier. The hub of the vampires who may or may not have been taken over by Lilith but were definitely were against Damon, personally.
Damon stopped short. "Shit."  
Harvey turned back to him. "It's all right. I had everything moved here after I'd touched base with the vampires." He saw Damon's shock. "It's okay, Damon. We've worked together for quite a while. I think they'll be our best allies in this."
Damon shook his head because he was getting a sick feeling in his stomach again. He needed to fill his belly, he reminded himself in the back of his head. But there was something wrong there. Vampires didn't work with humans.  He knew for a fact that once the vampires had gotten what they wanted from Harvey, he'd be what Lucas used to call liquidated. "Harvey, no. You can't trust them." Damon didn't feel very well with those words leaving his mouth, but he knew it was true, as much as they'd helped Damon, it was all because Damon had been an asset to them. 
Harvey looked confused, but Damon saw a shadow movement out of the corner of his eye and he put his hand on Harvey's shoulder to keep him from taking another step.  "I think you may be right," Harvey mumbled, his eyes in the direction of the movement, his shoulder tense under Damon's hand. 
Damon took a few steps back, but felt someone behind him and turned just in time to grab the man's throat. He was a vampire with a thick beard that made him look like a biker. Before Damon could think of Harvey, he had his mouth on the man's neck and he was drinking deeply. It was the huff of breath from Harvey at the shock of cold hands on his arms that made Damon let go and turn. He didn't want to grab Harvey in the opposite direction for fear of breaking his arms and leaving him useless, so he reached over and grabbed the vampire's hair, which startled him enough to let go of Harvey and give Damon just enough slack to grab the stake in the vampire's hand and deeply impale him instinctively in the heart. It surprised even Damon as he stood there for a moment, looking at the blood on his hands, breathing hard, not knowing what to do next, half expecting them to keep coming, but nothing else on the street moved. 
Harvey looked up him from where he'd fallen on the sidewalk when the vampire had let him go. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding dazed. "I should've been quicker." He swallowed and looked at the vampire that had his neck torn open. "He's still alive."
Damon looked at the vampire, who was moving nothing more than his fingers, as if trying them to see if they still worked. Then, Damon straightened up and wiped his bloody hands on his pants. "Let's get out of here before they realize what happened."
Harvey nodded and didn't question him. Damon had to slow his pace to keep from losing Harvey but he managed to do it despite his intense flight response. "I guess we'll have to find some other weapons for the time being," Harvey said. He took a deep breath then looked at Damon again. "That was incredible."
Damon was shaking. "Where are we going to find weapons?" Fuck Michael, Damon should've gone to Harvey for help in saving Luna.
Harvey had a funny smile on his face. "I really didn't want to get into this, but I guess we have no choice now."
"What?" Damon asked.
"Well, I moved all my stuff from my apartment there, which, thinking back, was a little too convenient, wasn't it?" Harvey started walking in the opposite direction and Damon followed. "And my Dad's lab was destroyed, obviously, you were there. I think we're going to have to take the trip out to my Dad's house and see if there's anything left there to salvage. I don't know if they took the time and energy to torch the place, but it's worth a try."
"It's too far," Damon said, and he looked behind his shoulder to see if they were being followed. "It's too much time. I think we've really got to get in there as soon as possible. I mean, they'd never suspect anything so soon."
Harvey nodded. "Well, I'm not sure what else we could do. There are a several weapons we can make ourselves, or I could, but that's the point. You're a vampire. I can't very well give you a cross and tell you to stick it down Lilith's throat."
Damon took a deep breath and pulled the lighter out of his pocket, started nervously clicking the lid open and closed. Harvey came to a stop in front of a church and looked at Damon. He smiled. "I have an idea." Damon kept walking because being so close to a place of worship made him feel light headed. "Damon, I think this'll work well." Damon stopped, halfway between the church and the bar across the street. "What if you did have weapons like those, the magic ones, but you didn't have to actually touch them. Like, holy water in water balloons, how about that?" Harvey was laughing, and Damon couldn't help but smile too. It was brilliant. "We need to get the balloons first, don't we? Where would he find an all night place?"
"Actually, I think I'm going to leave that part up to you," Damon said. It was almost dawn and the hunger was gnawing at his belly.  He missed Luna. "I really should retire for the night, and feed before it's too late." Harvey had a look on his face that hinted his feelings for Damon had changed, as he just realized Damon wasn't the way he'd thought, as if he was saying, 'Man, I thought you were different.' It was a look of disgust and Damon had to look away before he could entertain the idea of ripping the look right off of his face. "I'm going back to Luna's. I'll crash on the couch until sundown. I can help you then."
Harvey looked tired. "Hopefully, I won't need much help. We should be ready to go by tomorrow night. This is going to be a big day. I need you to be fresh and strong Damon. Whatever that entails." Damon snickered, wondering what Luna would think if she knew that Harvey was offering himself as food. It was both typical and unexpected. He nodded then turned his back to him. He could smell the spilled blood, it was there that he was drawn to, to the biker vampire pulling himself along the sidewalk in the direction of the tall building. It was there that Damon filled his belly, and felt strong enough to conquer the world. He went to sleep and didn't hear Harvey when he came in hours later, didn't hear the bags falling to the floor, and was knocked out until the last rays were gone and he could feel the moon.

And Enters The Geek. Pink Panties. 110%. 

Damon wasn't hungry when he woke up, but when he looked down at Harvey sleeping deeply, he was tempted to take a bite, just for the hell of it. He could smell the blood beneath the skin, could hear his heart beating, and had an overwhelming urge to stop that breathing chest. Instead he shut his eyes and said Harvey's name loudly.
"What?" Harvey asked, then seemed to register how close Damon was to the bed and sat up. "What are you doing?"
"I'm waking you up," Damon said, looking up at the ceiling. He wanted to pretend that he didn't have any kind of inclination to bite Harvey's head off.
Harvey didn't move or say anything until Damon had moved out of his way. Then he stood up and stretched. "I have a friend, this weird guy, one of those so called conspiracy theorists, except that if you really knew how the world works, you'd see there's a lot of truth in what they're saying. The press discredits them and it's a shame. The world would be a lot different if people listened more." Harvey seemed to realize that he had his preaching voice on and stopped his stretches, lowering his hands. "I thought we'd give him a visit."
Damon shrugged. "Unless he knows a way to conceal your heartbeat so that they don't hear us sneaking in a mile away, then I don't want to talk to him. We've got to get moving while the night is young."
"Luna was in that house too, the past few days, wasn't she? Why didn't you know?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Because the rooms are sound-proof. There are hundreds of tunnels under that house. Scott's good for picking the truth through all the made up crap. He's been good on information before, gets it mostly it from the internet." Harvey walked over and picked up a water balloon from a bag next to the bed and tossed it from hand to hand. Damon eyed it. "He's going to flip when he meets you. He's never seen a vampire in the flesh, but he's begged me to take him to my Dad's lab."
"So, you tell people about your Dad?" Damon asked, wondering if the balloon was shortly going to be flying towards his head. 
"No, just Scott, mostly for the look on his face. I mean, I met him and I thought," Harvey paused deep in the memory and used his pointer finger to express it, "This is a cool guy. A little paranoid, but someone I'd like to converse with." Harvey stopped tossing the water balloon and looked down at it in his hand.
Damon couldn't help but grit his teeth, thinking back to the limo ride and Lilith's melted face. He couldn't take it anymore. Harvey blinked and then Damon was in front of him, taking the balloon gently from his hand. 
 "Sorry man," Harvey said. 
"Let's get going," Damon said, backing away.
"Don't you want to see our weapons?"
"Later."

The label next to the buzzer said S. TENEMAN and the door was buzzed open without Scott even asking who it was. He came to the door with a wad of bills in his hand and stopped with his mouth open as if visitors were the last thing he'd think would show up on his footstep. 
"Hey man," said Scott, a short skinny guy with dark red spiked hair. Damon recognized his I am sci fi T-shirt instantly. "What are you doing here? You could've just shot me an e-mail or something," he said, eyeing Damon, who was looking past the human into the dark apartment that appeared to be lit with black lights and velvet art posters. "Who's your friend?" 
Harvey hesitated, as if not sure how to answer the question. He looked up and down the hallway before he spoke. "Someone you've been waiting a long time to meet." Scott reached into his pocket and put on his black plastic framed glasses that were an obvious attempt to get in touch with his nerdy side, while Harvey walked past him into the apartment. The ensemble is complete, Damon thought to himself, while Scott sized him up. "You're going to have to invite him in," Harvey said, passing through the threshold.
At this, Scott's skin got paler and Damon couldn't help but grin, letting his fangs show. "Who the hell have you brought to my apartment?" Scott asked.
Harvey shrugged and inhaled. "Someone you're sure as hell not going to forget." Then, he laughed and nudged Scott's shoulder. "Come on, invite him in."
"Hold on," Scott said, then reached behind the door and pulled out a huge iron crucifix that was bigger than his head. "All right, come in."
With that simple gesture, Damon could feel the invisible barrier slide back and he was able to walk into the apartment. Strange magic.
"Scott, this is Damon," Harvey said. 
Scott looked at Damon suspiciously. "Is he for real?"
Harvey grinned. "You tell me."
"Come on," Scott sighed and dropped the crucifix on the floor so heavily that for a moment Damon thought it might break through. Damon guessed he wasn't being a very convincing vampire. "So what are you guys up to tonight?" Scott asked, as he led the way into the living room with the wall covered with posters of a common theme: Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate, and Amber Sumerville in Star Whores, a title that Damon distinctly remembered renting himself. 
"We're looking for some information. On vampires," Harvey added, as if it may not have been clear.
"Yeah?" Scott raised his eyebrows. "And you had to come knocking on my door." He shrugged. "Well, I got the knowledge if you got the time." He laughed and then something occurred to him. "Any of you guys got the time because I called for my pizza seems like an hour ago." He glanced at the clock. "Should be here any minute. You guys like pepperoni? Oh shit, sorry dude I know you're a vegetarian."
"You're a vegetarian?" Damon blurted out. Fucking hilarious.
Scott was laughing too. "Yeah. Hey, you guys want to smoke?"
Damon must've missed the smell when he first walked in, but it was obvious now. It was easy for him to see the ash tray despite the black light. "No, thanks," Harvey said, and although it was exactly what Damon wanted, he knew pot would do nothing to him, so he shook his head. "And we're here for more important events."
"Important events? Man, I got you covered." Scott jumped when the buzzer sounded and then walked over and buzzed the door without asking who was there to visit again.
"You know, that's really kind of dangerous," Damon said, watching Scott pull out his money again. 
Scott chose to ignore that comment. "You guys heard about the big shindig going down tomorrow night? It's supposed to be unprecedented."
"Actually no," Harvey said. "But what do you know about it?"
 "It seems that a large group of vampire leaders are meeting tomorrow night to discuss their plans on taking over the most coveted spot in the world, the man behind the president, Mr. Big Guy himself. They're all bringing human sacrifices as signs of faith." There was a knock at the door and Scott got his pizza. He continued as he kicked the door closed behind him. "So if I were you guys, I'd be off the streets tonight. Get home quick and stay locked in because it's going to be a fucking free for all out there." Scott walked over and put the pizza down on his collection of comics and porno mags on the coffee table. "You guys want some grub?"
"No thanks," Harvey said, and Damon shook his head.
"How do you even know all of this?" Damon asked.
"The signs," Scott said, throwing up his hands, his mouth full of pizza "They're everywhere, dude. Just watch the news, it's full of codes that only certain people are trained to interpret. It's all there, if people would just open their fucking eyes, maybe read a little bit, who knows, couldn't fucking hurt, right? It's all an illusion, man." 
Scott paused and Damon took this opportunity to give Harvey a blank stare and ask, "Why in the Hell did you bring me here?"
Harvey nodded in Scott's direction. "Give him a chance. What have we got to lose?"
He was right. Damon turned back to the raving pothead. "So what's this nonsense about everything being an illusion?"
Scott continued as if he were used to it. "What I'm trying to tell you, is that behind the man who controls it all, there's a man behind a curtain. Think Wizard of Oz. Behind the scenes, so deep where no one will ever find him, there's a vampire who controls vampire and human relations. The effect trickles down. There's nothing in our country that happens without his say-so. It's been that way for centuries, since George fucking Washington, man. Think about that."
Yeah, deep. Damon crossed his arms and sat back deep into the couch. "So what you're telling me is that back in the time of our founding fathers, there was a vampire in the back round nodding his head in approval?" As much as Damon wanted to sound like he thought it was unbelievable, he could see it happening. Just because, well, crazy shit did happen all the time.
"Okay, so maybe not George Washington," Scott said, as if Damon were the stupid one to actually take him literally, "But you have to admit that somewhere along the line someone decided it was best to keep the existence of vampires under wraps. Now, who do you think that was? Do you think that in the whole history of mankind there has been no one who discovered vampires, and tried to blow the secret, so therefore no need for the secret service and CIA to shut them up?" Scott was practically yelling at this point. "If that's what you think, my man, you are one sad puppy. You are one sad puppy, my friend, because this shit's been going on for thousands of years." Scott paused to grab a lighter and take a bong hit. "Who do you think tormented Adam and Eve once they were thrown out of the garden? Adam's first wife, Lilith, that's who. She was the first vampire, mother of them all, the bitch who made all vampire women people that you do not want to mess with." Scott reached over, grabbed a slice of pizza and, taking a bite out of it, continued to speak, "And every female she makes into a vampire, they take her name. So, this vampire banshee, she multiplies. That's the really fucked up shit."
Harvey, who'd been leaning against a corner desk, lost his footing and almost fell. Damon felt like he was about to do the same, but it didn't keep him from snickering. "Every Lilith has been directly changed over from the original Lilith, the one from Hebrew legend?"
"How else would we still even know about the legend?" Scott demanded as he threw his slice of pizza back down in the box, "Not from the government, that's for sure. And you don't see that shit in the bible. See, the thing that happens now is that who knows who the original Lilith is, with all the fake ones walking around? Who knows for sure what even happened to her? For all we know she may be the one running the government behind the scenes, keeping the vampires down. But they're rising up, I can tell you that. I've got a good source that says they are not taking any precautions with this party, man. It's by invite only, they're monitoring any planes that fly overhead, and they will straight up kill anyone who so much as looks suspicious." Scott paused. "If I weren't so afraid of being ripped limb from limb, I'd love to sneak in and take pictures, prove to the world that vampires exist. Shake things up a little bit."
"It wouldn't work," Damon mumbled, his finger on his chin. Scott glared at him, as if asking him what he knew. But Damon knew that mirrors were useless to him, and that vital part of camera mechanism made it impossible to capture them. "Vampires don't show up on film," he said, distracted. 
"How would you know?" Scott said, and took another bite of pizza. "You came here asking me questions." He put the pizza down and stood up. "Come on, I'll show you." He walked out of the living room and Harvey and Damon followed. Scott sat down in front of a huge monitor and piles of equipment piled up. Damon had some experience working with computers, but Scott had a set up that was impressive.
Harvey waited until Scott was sitting in his chair and shaking his mouse to cancel the X-files screen saver, and turned him around to face Damon, who had his arms crossed in front of him and was standing perfectly still in the doorway of the computer room. "Look at him closely and tell me if you see anything strange," Harvey told his friend.
Damon heard Scott's heart skip a beat once he did it, and he was satisfied. "You are, aren't you?" He glanced at the wall and Damon followed it to a limited edition Fantastic 4 vanity mirror that hung at about head height and in which Damon wasn't reflected in.
Damon ignored the question. "Is there any way that we can speed this up? I'm getting kind of hungry." 
"What do you need to know?" Scott asked, turning his head towards Harvey but never taking his eyes off of Damon.
"I need to know where this meeting is going to be."
"Why the hell do you need to know that? There's no way you're getting in," Scott said, his voice a mixture of shock and awe. 
"Don't worry about that part," Damon said, feeling like the room was too small. He could feel the warmth radiating off of them. Why hadn't he eaten before he came? "Just tell us where."
"Oh, I already know where," Scott said, looking up at Damon over his glasses like an asshole. "But, that's not the point. The point is that it's suicide to try to get in. Undead or not, it's insane."
"Insane," Damon said, moving across the room and up to Scott until their noses almost touched, "Is how I'm going to act if you don't cut the shit and spit it out," he said, and tried to tell himself that he was just angry and fed up, not because he was close to losing his control. "So I suggest you give us the information so we can get out of here." He wondered how close Scott was to pissing his pants. His heart beat certainly hinted that he was close.
Harvey leaned over the two of them. "Feel free to excuse yourself at any time," he said, speaking directly to Damon. 
"I think I may do that." Damon said, not moving his head but his eyes up to Harvey.  He could feel Scott's quick breaths on the side of his face, and he thought how easy it would've been to just kill and eat them both. "Let me ask you something," Damon said, turning his eyes back to Scott. "You got anybody in this building you don't like?"
Scott hesitated, he seemed afraid to meet Damon's eyes. "No, not really. But if you're looking for food, there's a girl two apartments down that's really hot."
Damon was caught off guard for a second and then smiled. "That's even better."

Damon knocked on the door and could smell her before he could hear her heartbeat, only one there. She was alone.  He saw right away that she was fresh and clean, right out of the shower, terry cloth against soft warm skin. The door was only open two inches, the chain lock straining, but this was wide enough for her to get a full length look. 
"Hi," he said, trying to look friendly. Brown hair, brown skin and hazel eyes. Scott was right. Bella. It'd be easy to pretend if the girl smelled more like her, but to his eyes the light never dimmed enough to play tricks with him. Nothing like the real thing. 
"Damon?" She swung the door open and the girl was smiling. "Damon Stevens?" Damon opened his mouth but stopped there because his mind was blank. "Jesus, Damon," she said, slapping his arm and, as soon as she did, he felt the barrier lift and as easy as that, he had his invitation. "It's me, Steph. I was interning at Sunrise studio you know, before . . ." She trailed off.
"Yeah." Damon nodded. "How are you?"
"I'm great," she said, and pushed his hair back. "But, I'm a mess. Come in," she said, taking a step back. Damon looked up and down the hallway to make sure there were no witnesses. "So, what made you look me up?" She asked as she closed the door.
"Well after a long time in the dark, I decided it was time to get on with my life." He paused because he realized how deep it sounded. "Just looking up old friends," He said as she walked past, wondering if he'd ever seen her naked, had the pleasure of her company, if she was one of the few, the proud, the brave. God, how old he felt. And so tired.
"I'm so glad," she said, stopping the doorway of her bedroom with her hand on the frame, "Because people were so worried about you. People ask about you all the time. And I thought things would turn out different with us, you know, after that night we went out for drinks and you were too drunk to drive home. Do you remember?" She asked, laughing. 
Damon grinned. Interns. He remembered her now, mostly for her vocal capabilities. The only question now was how to sneak up on her without her voice giving him away. She sighed, as if imagining all the time they'd wasted. She'd been a lucky one to get away, luckier still was Giselle, if she was even still alive, hadn't OD'd that was. Giselle's bad taste in men had saved her, because if she'd had her way, they'd have been married and living in the suburbs, have 2.5 kids to fuck up, too. 
"Well," Steph said, taking a step back. "Help yourself to the fridge while I get dressed."
Damon hesitated and then said, "Thanks." She closed the door a little but not all the way and Damon didn't move. He could hear her, all she was now was a walking heartbeat, opening the closet, combing its hair, flossing. Damon pushed the door and it swung open silently. The light from the bathroom framed her bed, which was the last place he wanted to take her while he was so hungry. She didn't seem to notice that the door was open despite the fact that it lit up another portion of the room, illuminating her closet, the nightstand, and the drug paraphernalia. Her humming didn't stop. 
Damon walked across the light, sinking into the remaining shadow in the corner of the room and she saw him, probably not more than a movement in her peripheral vision. She'd chosen that moment to turn away from the mirror with a glass of water to her lips. She gasped when the light flickered and a second later, the glass shattered followed by the sound of her cursing. Her heartbeat had doubled now, and Damon had to bite his lip to keep from rushing at her. It was a unique situation and since, the last time he'd been there he'd had to stuff her pink panties into her mouth so he could finish his business, the last thing he wanted was for her windpipes to get warmed up. No screams, it had to be a silent kill.
Steph took a deep breath, calmed herself a bit and stepped over the glass. She walked to the open door and peeked out whispering, "Damon?" Her heart was hammering now and maybe that was why she couldn't hear him, didn't even feel him behind her before his hand slid over her mouth. She tried to scream anyway, struggled and then her heart did something that Damon was noticing as increasingly familiar. Once a human's heart was beating so fast that it seemed it may keel over and die, it started missing beats, becoming irregular, just like hers was doing. It slowed gradually, just as Damon's hunger did, until it stopped just like Damon's hunger because he was angry, he didn't care, and because it was clear to him now who he was, and who he'd always been. An asshole.

Later, Damon found the two humans still sitting around the computer. He walked in without knocking, and then leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed. Both of the humans turned to him and looked at him as if they expected some kind of commentary. "What?" He asked.
Harvey shrugged and looked back at the computer screen, but Scott had an open mouthed smile. Damon felt like the guy's idol. "How was it?" Scott asked.
Damon laughed out loud and nodded. "You were right. She's hot."
Scott slammed his hand down on the table and looked giddy.  "I knew it, man. I knew she'd be good."
Damon didn't respond to that and wasn't quite sure why Scott was under the impression that he'd just had sex with her. Stupid human fantasies. She'd been attractive but he didn't think he could look at any human the way he looked at Luna. The rest were food now.
"You know, I've been thinking," Scott said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms out over his head, "And I think I want to go with you guys."
Damon shook his head. "Absolutely not."
Scott lowered his arms and then crossed them, looking like a spoiled child. "I've been trying to prove conclusive existence of vampires for nearly a decade, and you're the first one I've ever met. And now, here's this chance to finally get close enough to be right in with them, observe them."  
Damon cut him off. "So this is all research for you? Well, it sounds to me like it's some kind of fucking game you think you're playing. Look at me. Do I look like someone you want to be friends with?"
Scott swallowed hard. "I want to be a vampire." 
"Oh, well why don't you save us the trouble of getting killed along with you, and just slit your wrists now?" His head pounded for a moment, remembering the feeling of the cold wet metal of the railing in his hands, and Damon couldn't control the flash this time. He grabbed Scott's computer tower and pulled it onto the floor, scaring everyone and conjuring up a huge cloud of dust. Scott pushed his chair away from Damon and even Harvey looked surprised and angry. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
Scott put his hands on his knees and kept his eyes to the ground. "I don't know what I'm talking about. And you don't know where this party is." He paused and then his green eyes rose to meet Damon's. "And you'll never know if you don't apologize for knocking my computer over." 
Damon wanted to laugh but then held it. He pushed his hair back, hated it that length. God, how long has it been since he'd had a haircut? Time passed quickly for an addict. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Alright," Scott said, and smoothed his hands out on the empty desktop. "I just hope you didn't fuck up any of my shit. Then we'll really have problems."
Harvey clapped his friend on the back and then walked around to help him pick up his pile of equipment on the floor.
 "What's it like, man?" Scott asked Damon as he was plugging wires into the back. He sounded like he was trying to come up with casual conversation.
"Hungry." Damon shrugged and glanced at Harvey, who had his back to him. "Angry." 
When all of the wires were plugged in and Harvey was back in his seat, Scott took a deep breath and ruffled his hair looking back and forth between the two of them. "So, why are you guys doing it?" When they didn't answer right away, Scott snickered. "There's no way I'm walking blindly into this."
Damon grinned at him. "The usual love and revenge. Why else?"
Scott raised his eyes and swiveled his chair around to look at Harvey. "Your dad? The professor?"
Harvey laughed but his eyes weren't in on the joke either. "You make him sound like he's on Gilligan's Island. Yes, my father, the scientist, he'd probably be one of the sacrifices you mentioned earlier."
"That's if they took him," Damon added. 
"Which they did," Harvey said. 
"What about you?" Scott asked in Damon's direction before he swiveled his chair around to punch the button that turned his machine on.
"A girl." Damon said. My Bella.
Scott nodded but Damon didn't see how he'd be able to begin to understand. "So where does that leave us? Me, with information that you need." Scott met Damon's eyes and this time Damon had trouble finding fear in them. "And you're stuck with an extra human."
The reaction was simultaneous. Harvey threw his hands up saying, "Give it up."
 Damon started yelling, "I have no idea how I'm going to get one human into that building much less two."
Scott waited for their outbursts to subside, and then continued. "I know a way to get us in, and I'll be able to print out of the architectural plan of the property once I get my computer up and running again." Damon felt helpless, tired of all the trouble, ready to give up and all he could do was keep shaking his head. "If this makes you feel any better, I want to tell the both of you that I'm willing to die for this. I'm serious," Scott added when he saw the looks on their faces, "I'm completely serious when I say that this is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm willing to go into it giving 110%, to get in and get your loved ones out of there alive. And, if I die living out my dream, well then it would be worth it."
Harvey stood up with his arms crossed. "That was a nice try. You get that from X-Files? Man, that was pretty good."
Damon sighed like a man on the edge and stood up. "Just let him come." What was the point in sparing another funeral? Fuck it. Humans want to die? Let them line up. "Get your stuff together, we're leaving." He glanced at the time on the wall and looked at Harvey. "I need to speak with you outside." He looked at Scott. "We'll be back for you in twenty minutes. Get the information you need, anything that you think will be helpful. Take what you can carry and don't leave what you can live without. I don't know if you'll be able to come back here." Scott swallowed and nodded. He looked nervous again.
"Where are we going?" Harvey asked as he stood up.
Damon didn't answer him, just looked down at Scott again. "I have a question for you. What part of this is your dream? Getting ripped limb from limb, or being cast off from God as in inhuman monster?" He stood up straight. "Shit, if I were you, I'd run in the next twenty minutes. I sure as hell hope you're not here when I get back."

Even before the door of the apartment swung shut, Damon pulled Harvey into a side alley. No heartbeats there, no living soul to hear them. "How do we know that what that pot head says isn't bullshit?" Harvey raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth but Damon continued. "Is this guy serious? Where does this guy get his information?" Damon asked, putting his hands through his hair and pulling.
"People talk, Damon, nothing is private anymore. Information is up for grabs on the internet for anyone who's willing to take the time and effort to sort through the crazies. E-mails are like postcards, even encoding doesn't work because hackers like Scott, who have no life, sit around and decode them. I mean, this is his entire life, trying to find out about vampires, wondering what it's like to walk among them, to see one in the flesh just to validate the hours he's spent tracking them down. I would've loved to end his obsession a long time ago by bringing him to my Dad's lab, but there was no way we'd get the security clearance with his history with the Feds, and I was afraid that it would only egg him on."
Damon was glancing up and down the street to make sure there was no one around to overhear, but the streets were completely still of any beings, alive or otherwise. "It's hard to believe that he'd be an expert."
Harvey shrugged. "Don't we need all the help we can get?"
Damon took a deep breath and pulled his hair again. "How the hell are we going to get you two in there? Shit, how the hell am I going to get in there?" 
Harvey just shook his head and looked away. "I thought the house would be easier to get into. During the day, while they're sleeping."
"They're never all sleeping." Damon said. "There's always someone keeping watch. Maybe this place will be better, where ever it is." There was silence where Damon imagined what would happen once they were faced with the task at hand, once it was time to save the day. "So, do you think there's a Lilith, a bigger Lilith than the one we know, who's puppet master?" That was enough to give him nightmares. 
Harvey shrugged again. It seemed to Damon that shrugging was all Harvey did. "Maybe. I don't know. But I think we'd be better off focusing on the Lilith we do know. She's going to be handful enough."
"How are we going to kill her?" Damon asked, under his breath.
 "She's not indestructible. She's not some kind of-"
"I know that," Damon interrupted. 
Harvey responded quickly. "Well, I'm not the one who's going to have to worry about that."
Damon looked away, down the street to a car approaching. "Yeah, you're not, are you?"
The car passed without slowing. "She's not a God, Damon. She used to be human once, too."
Damon smiled at that. "Hard to believe." Harvey nodded. It was harder to believe that Lilith would ever have been vulnerable enough for someone to take advantage of her. To rape her. It was mind blowing. If he had a chance to ask her before he killed her, he would. He'd have to remember between when she was begging for her life, and when he ended it, to ask her how it was that she became so evil. 
"So, is that all you wanted me for?" Harvey asked, leaning against the wall of the building.
"You know," Damon said, ignoring the question because what he wanted to do, he was doing right now. He just wanted to talk. "Scott wants to be dead. I want more than anything to be alive."
Harvey looked away and didn't speak.
"You said your Dad might be able to reverse Luna with some kind of blood transfusion. Do you think that would be possible for someone that's dead?" It was embarrassing, worse that it was in front of Harvey, the jerk who always thought of him as a monster, no matter how much Damon proved otherwise. Well, proved it in his own mind at least. 
Harvey hesitated, choosing his words. "You could replace all the blood in a dead thing's body but that won't make it alive. It'll take nothing less than God's finest work to make a heart start beating again once it dies. I mean, think about it. The heart's living tissue, and once its dead, it starts decaying,"
"Okay, I think I get the point." Damon said, grimacing.
"So if you could do it all over again, you would remain human?" Harvey looked as if he hadn't considered that Damon would have felt bad about his choice at all. 
"Well, I didn't know this was even a possibility. I just wanted it to be over. I think, I think I was trying to escape Lilith, to tell you the truth." Damon swallowed and pulled out his lighter. "And my problems." He ran his hands through his hair. "Man, I need to smoke."
Harvey nodded as if he could relate. "Can't really blame you for making a decision and then regretting it." 
 Damon took a step out of the alley. "Let's get the geek before I change my mind."
"No, wait," Harvey said, reaching out to grab Damon's arm but then seemed to think better of it and pulled his hand back. "What did you really want to ask me?"
Damon shook his head. "I just wanted to know if we could trust this guy."
"You wanted to ask me if it was possible to become human again." Harvey was looking at him so intently that Damon felt ashamed and didn't know why.
"It's just," Damon paused and knew that Harvey saw right through him. "Well wouldn't you? If you thought that there was even a one percent chance, and didn't know if you were wasting your time to even hope for it?"
Harvey hesitated and although Damon had thought it was pure disgust, his voice was gentle when he finally spoke. "There is a Roman Catholic priest in the Vatican who believes that with total redemption of their soul, vampires can be human again." His eyes were on the ground.
Damon wasn't sure if he'd heard him right, or rather, it was more a figure of speech because Damon's hearing was perfectly fine. "The catholic church knows about vampires?"
Harvey's laugh was bitter. "The catholic church knows about everything."
Damon was silent for a moment as he took in this knowledge, and he swallowed hard because it was the only thing he could do to stop the smile from coming to his lips. "So, do you think there's any truth to it?"
This time it was Harvey's turn to take a measured pause. "I believe anything is possible."
It was enough for Damon, and this time he let the smile slip past his lips and it didn't falter even when Harvey pushed past him into the apartment building.

Bricks. Invisibility. Scared Shitless.

"Before you even think about coming with us, there are some risks you need to be made aware of," Damon began and didn't even acknowledge the fact that Harvey rolled his eyes. Scott dropped his bag at his feet. "Harvey is able to see vampires because he wears specialty contact lenses. Right now, you're at a major disadvantage."
"We're doing this at night," Scott said, sounding bored. "That means I can see them, just like I see you."
Damon opened his mouth to say something, but really just did it to make Scott off guard while he crossed over the veil and snuck up beside him. He reappeared by Scott's neck before the human even had a chance to turn his head and expose his neck. Scott didn't cry out but gasped when Damon grabbed him but as soon as his flesh touched the human's, Damon's palms started burning savagely and he had to let go. Scott was laughing but Damon couldn't focus on anything but the red shade his hands had turned. 
"That's why I took a shower in holy water," Scott said. The stupid human looked proud of himself.
Harvey crossed his arms. "You just happen to have Holy Water hanging around your apartment?" 
Scott's face slackened and he dropped his hands. "Yes," he said defensively.
Damon was trying to wrap his hands in his shirt bottom because he wasn't sure the sizzling feeling on his skin was just a hallucination. "You know what? I really hope you die first. It'll be one less annoyance."
"He'll be fine," Harvey said to Damon, it didn't sound very convincing. The truth was that Harvey didn't know whether Scott would make it or not. It really didn't matter. It wasn't anything they should think about, because no matter what, they were going to try it. They had nothing else. 
Damon just nodded, once, and looked back at Scott, who'd picked up his bag. "Alright then," Damon said.  "Let's get back to Luna's and see what we have in the way of weapons."

When they arrived at the apartment, Scott seemed surprised to find the absence of the obvious female inhabitants strange but didn't ask any questions, just put his bag down on the couch and then followed Harvey into Luna's room to see the weapons he'd created. 
"I was able to get a case of bottled water blessed by a priest and then I funneled it into water balloons," Harvey said, tossing one between his hands. Damon took a step out into the hallway.
"How did you manage to get a priest to bless a case of bottled water?" Scott asked.
Harvey shrugged. "I told him I was going to bless and baptize some sinners downtown, and he was more than willing to help me out." He winked. "Once I made a small donation to the rectory."
 "Pretty good," Damon said, trying to sound encouraging, but already feeling nervous about carrying weapons that were potentially lethal to him.
"Next," Harvey said, picking up and putting another bag onto Luna's bed. "We have something a little more complicated to coordinate, but it gets the job done." He bent down and pulled out a travel sized can of aerosol hair spray and a lighter. "It's awkward when you're being attacked, but we have no access to napalm guns, so it'll have to do." He paused. "Damon, you may want to stay way from this one."
Damon scratched the side of his neck. "I think I just might."
"Next, I have these." Harvey pushed a button on a small metal handle and a thick jagged blade popped out. "I only have two of these. Damon will have the other because he's the quickest. For maximum efficiency, you have to plunge and twist. Preferably from behind, preferably in the heart." He handed it to Damon, who liked the weight to it, eyed the blade and wondered what it would be like to slit Lilith's throat. Messy. He thought it would feel exactly like coming. "You can also go for the throat and follow up with a wound to the heart, which should be enough to incapacitate your victim." First Harvey feigned slicing his own throat then demonstrated a plunge into the heart. "Hold on to that. It's your sword." Harvey turned his attention to Scott. "If you see anything even remotely sharp, grab it and go for the eyes. It's their slowest regenerating organ. You'll be long gone before they can see again."
Scott nodded. "What about UV light?"
Harvey pointed at Scott like he'd just earned a gold star. "Very good. Vampire's are very quick, but flashlights aren't, of course, out of the question." He picked up a long heavy plastic stick. "These were expensive. I bought the strongest one for Damon, I thought it would help avoid any accidents on my part."
"I appreciate it," Damon said. He'd meant it to come out sarcastic, but there was more emotion in it than he would've liked. His nerves were shot.
"I have a few pocket flashlights that have UV bulbs in them," Harvey said, holding up a few flashlights. "These are good to shine right in the eyes, it'll blind them temporarily."
"Good, good," Scott said, looking at all the bags on the floor. "This is good." He rubbed his hands together. "What about garlic?"
Harvey shook his head. "Garlic's no good. That superstition stems from the belief that vampires would be detracted from a smell stronger than the stench of their own decomposing bodies." He met Damon's eyes and it seemed to Damon that the human blushed a bit. "No offense."
"Why?" Damon asked, his eyes narrowed. "Do I smell bad?"
Neither of the men answered, just turned their attention deliberately to the piles on the floor. "So, no garlic, is there anything else?"
"No, seriously," Damon said, narrowing his eyes. "Do I smell?"
Scott hesitated. "No, you don't smell bad, you just smell sort of distinct. It's not strong. Just kind of like suede leather. At first I didn't even know that it was you."
Damon glanced at Harvey's body spray on Luna's dresser and grabbed it, sprayed his body twice. "Better?"
Harvey nodded and shrugged. 
"What else do we have?" Damon asked, tossing the cologne back.
"That's it," Harvey said, crossing his arms. "Scott and I both have crosses around out necks. There aren't many ways to kill a vampire. I mean, after their initial death, they're virtually kill proof. Our main goal will be to wound them long enough for us to get in an out. If we can manage to take out Lilith and Kris, we won't have anyone coming after us. At least not for a while. We may have to actually leave the country if they aren't defeated."
Damon shook his head but kept his mouth shut. He'd cross that bridge over troubled waters when he came to it.
"You mean there's an actual Lilith involved in this?" Scott asked, for the first time showing doubt.
"Yes, a Lilith," Damon said, and for a moment he wanted to laugh.
"Shit, I wouldn't be surprised if she were," Harvey said, and shrugged his shoulders like he'd just gotten a chill.
 "She's not," Damon said, cutting him off. "Believe me. I think I've pieced her history together pretty well."
Scott started biting the skin around his thumb. He took a deep breath. "But, we're just going in, and saving the professor and the girl, and then we're out right?" Damon and Harvey both nodded. "Are you sure there aren't anymore weapons in those bags? Fang proof neck guards, suits of armor?"
The both knew he was joking, but no one in the room had enough energy to smile. Harvey took a deep breath and let it out, waiting for to see if anyone had anything else to say. When no one did, he went ahead. "Alright, well, I guess that's it. Let's all crash and get some sleep. We'll need to rest."
Damon glanced at Scott and saw that would be difficult for him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle. "I think you may want to take a couple of these, both of you, to help you sleep." 
"Where did you get this?" Harvey asked, narrowing his eyes and taking it away from Damon as if worried the vampire would take the whole bottle. 
"In the bathroom." He avoided mentioning Luna's name on the bottle. "I thought it might come in handy when we get our hands on Luna. She might be hysterical if she doesn't remember us. We can out her to sleep."
"What is it?" Scott asked.
"Prescription Zanax. They're for anxiety," Harvey said as he opened the bottle and shook them into his hand. "And they're huge."
"Bricks," Damon said. "That's some heavy shit. It'll make anyone at ease." 
Harvey nodded. "Yeah, I guess it'll help tonight." He handed a pill to Scott then put the bottle into his pocket. "I'll hold onto them."
Damon felt the resentment again. "I wish I had some drugs that would do something to me, then I wouldn't have to deal with this shit."
Harvey took a moment before he answered, either to control his temper or think up a good excuse. "I don't want you to overmedicate her, that's the only reason I said it. Luna shouldn't need this, she'll be sluggish and tired anyway, and drugs may not help the situation."
Damon wasn't happy but he didn't try to take the bottle back either. "Good night," was all he said, and although what he really wanted to do was sleep in Luna's bed, Harvey had already claimed it, so he went into Adrienne's abandoned bedroom and closed the door. 

"It's time," Harvey's voice came from above him.
Damon didn't move, didn't open his eyes.  "It's still light out," he said. 
"I thought we should get into position before they arrive, so we won't have to worry about security."
"I'm sure they've had security on the place for the last twenty four hours," Damon said, his eyes still closed.  "And it might mess up the plan if we're discovered early. How can you be passed off as sacrifices if, say, the sacrifices hadn't arrived yet?" 
"Lilith will know as soon as you step foot in the building," Harvey said.
"Good," Damon said, opening his eyes. He saw Harvey's eyes narrow with the realization that Damon's eyes were blue. "I want her to. I want Lilith to know I'm there but not be able to see me."
"How did you do that?" Harvey asked. He leaned in closer. They must've looked decent.
"I was going through Adrienne's cabinets last night and I found these contact lenses. They must not be prescription because I can see perfectly. Are they passable?"
Harvey took another moment to look, and then nodded. "They look really authentic. But Damon, you're pretty distinctive." 
"I'm going to make a sacrifice of my own." Damon said, sitting up and pushing his hair out of his eyes. "It was getting too long, anyway. I'll use some cologne or something, too so she won't recognize my scent. Lilith won't be able to pick me out of a crowd. I'll just have to keep my distance."
Harvey took it all in, couldn't find a complaint, then nodded. "When exactly did you come up with this plan?"
Damon shrugged then thought about it too. "I had a dream last night that I was dragging the two of you down the street."
Harvey crossed his arm. Typical Harvey move. "How exactly are we going to pretend to be sacrifices without getting sacrificed?"
Damon didn't know. "I guess that part still needs figuring out. Right now, I need you to find me some hair clippers. It's getting late, isn't it?" 

 
They found a pair of hair clippers under Adrienne's bathroom sink. "Why would a girl have clippers?" Scott asked, standing just outside of the bathroom door, Damon and Harvey kneeling in front of the cabinet. Scott had been a fan of the disguise plan after he'd seen Damon's new eye color. 
"She probably used to cut her boyfriend's hair or something," Harvey said, standing up and unraveling the cord.
"I wish I had a girlfriend who'd cut my hair," Scott said. 
"I think you may want to start dreaming bigger dreams," Damon said, running his hands through his hair for the last time. He wondered if it would grow back and decided it didn't matter because he'd never let it get that long again. "Like hoping that you live past tonight." Harvey was inspecting how to turn the clippers on.
"Are you kidding me? This is the greatest adventure of my life," Scott said, and Damon could see Scott's reflection throwing his hands up because Damon's own body didn't block the view in the mirror. "It's almost asking too much to get out of this alive," Scott said. "Fuck, in fact, why don't you shave my head too?" He was laughing with one hand pointing to his head, the other holding a smoldering joint.
"Yeah," Damon said, sitting down. "Why don't we all shave our heads? We have all the time in the world." They followed Harvey into the kitchen where he pulled out a chair for Damon to sit.  "Have you done this before?" Damon asked suddenly, whirling around in the chair to look at Harvey.
Harvey narrowed his eyes, acting like he'd just been insulted. "I'm an art student, not a barber. You'll get what you get, don't complain, and you're sure as hell not getting a fade. It's skin head all the way."
Scott laughed, almost giddy, but it didn't help Damon's nerves. "At least he's not using a straight razor," he said.
Damon shrugged. "Might as well be, maybe I'll have a better chance of blinding them as a distraction." 
The razor clicked on and the motorized buzz filled the kitchen. Damon felt cold steel vibrating against his head. The black hair slid away, feeling like silk and making him want to cry. There went four months that felt like a dream. There went mom, his job, his junkie girlfriend. There went Luna. There went life. The room was silent after the last of it fell and once the machine clicked off. Damon had never noticed how absolute black the shade of his hair was until he saw it next to dingy tan and white linoleum. Damon's hands went up to his head.
Scott was the first to speak. "Wow," he breathed. Damon was sure the change was dramatic. "That's fucking love, right there."
It caught both Harvey and Damon off guard and their eyes snapped towards him. Damon liked the feel of his own scalp, which was soft, and ran his hand back and forth. He chose to ignore Scott's comment because he could imagine how much it had stung Harvey, and Damon couldn't afford to lose him, at the eve of their battle. He turned and looked up at Harvey because he knew how much everything was going to change in the next few hours. He felt it, they all did. "Will it work?" Damon asked him.
Harvey looked at him so seriously that Damon thought for a second he was about to get a fist in the mouth. Harvey turned his face away and Damon felt the hand slap the back of his head, not hard, not hostile. "You're a new man." 
Damon sat there in the kitchen with his elbows on his knees, hands folded and paused, not in prayer, but close. He followed the others out into the living room and as they started gathering their weapons, Damon walked out of the apartment. He felt crowded. It was too much pressure, it was too fucking important. He found what he was looking for, the fire escape, fresh air, the roof. He paced for a while, shook his arms out. It had all come to it, he felt it in his bones. Bella. Was love enough to save her? Damon walked to the edge and for a second thought he'd let himself fall. But, when reminding himself that he'd just wake up from it, he stopped and instead opened his mouth and let out a battle cry that sounded as free as if he was an innocent child and as savage as if he'd killed a man. And he had. The scream started as a yell and grew into a roar and he felt complete for a moment, one perfect moment and then his perception shattered. He stood there blinking, saw Luna, his mother, Lilith. His body was tense, and what he felt like then was vomiting.

This Is How It Ends.

"Will you stop touching your head?" Harvey asked. Damon couldn't help notice that although there was quite a bit of annoyance in his voice, there was also seemed to be some jealousy.
"Man, I knew I should've shaved my head," Scott said, and then turned to Damon. "It feels cool as hell, doesn't it?"
Damon grinned and glanced at the both of them before he turned his attention back to the street. "It's okay." 
"Are we close?" Harvey asked Scott, who had printed out a map and then memorized the floor plan of the building and grounds he'd managed to track down online. 
"Yeah, a couple more blocks. Do you hear it?" His voice was almost a whisper.
Damon had noticed it for blocks. The silence. There was no one out, no lights on in the buildings, nothing so much as a stray cat or dog, rat or pigeon. He hadn't wanted to mention it, but at that rate, their approach would not be a surprise. 
Harvey nodded. "Yeah, it's too quiet. You think they're expecting us?" Harvey asked, turning his eyes towards Damon.
"I think at this point they're expecting something, but it's probably not us," Damon said, and did his best to keep his voice at a normal tone, but it was hard not to feel the need to whisper.
"I just wish we could've brought bags with us," Scott said, softly. They were each armed with a flashlight, a lighter, and two perfume bottles one filled with holy water, the other with hair spray. The water balloons had been abandoned once the final plan had been formed.
"We know better," Harvey said, and turned to Damon. "Do you think you should start carrying us or something?"
Damon gave him a disgusted look. "No, I think dragging will do fine. Just remember to look scared shitless." He grabbed each of the two by their shirt collars and continued down the street. 
"I don't think it'll be too hard," Harvey said. 
"Turn left here," Scott whispered. 
When they turned the corner, they saw the gate keepers, three huge vampires standing in a line, waiting. It's as if they'd always been there, statues.
Standing there, he felt like a warrior. Damon paused to take a deep breath and feel the wind where his hair had once been. 
"I was told there were people patrolling this block, but I didn't believe them." It took all of his strength to achieve a sarcastic tone, and he was glad to see his self control was enough to hide the shaking that was just at the brink. "And I said, there's no way that two fucking humans could escape with a look outpost two blocks away. I come out here and what do I find? The little shits escaped from cargo." Harvey and Scott were doing a good job of trying to actively run away but Damon had a firm grip and he walked briskly down the street towards them.
"Who the fuck are you?" The middle vampire growled. He had dark skin and a goatee. He was dressed in a tux and wore a fedora. "And where the fuck did you come from?"
Damon shrugged and grinned. "They sent me out because the head count was short. I guess they didn't feel the need to inform you."
The tallest vampire on the right shrugged his shoulders. He outweighed Damon by a hundred pounds.  "I heard something about some humans on foot." The other two vampires walked around Damon, circling slowly. "They said there may have been one of our kind with them."
"I am one of our kind. And somebody up there doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about." He pretended he was Michael and grinned uncontrollably. "I haven't been over to the site yet. They sent me out for these two as soon as I got here. Where does the meat go?"
Harvey was whimpering and hanging by the slack of his collar. It was a good show. The lead vampire shrugged. "Well, the party's already started." He grinned and his teeth gleamed for a second in the light. "I don't think two measly humans will go unnoticed."
Damon hesitated, not knowing what to say to that, but he was saved by the shortest vampire, who looked a bit by Scott except with black hair instead of red, and sans nerd glasses. "They might be missed by whoever brought them. I think the sacrifices are for a ceremony at the end of the night."
The lead vampire looked down at Harvey again, who moved his face and hid it. Damon was holding all their weight now, Scott was slumped half way on the ground. Damon didn't know if Scott was just a good actor or if he'd really just passed out from fear. "Okay, we'll play it right," He said, adjusting his fedora. "They promised us passes after everything's done with. You got inside duty?" He asked Damon. He'd passed their tests, but as he'd guessed before he'd even met them, people tended to believe if you were confident and remained as vague as possible.
Damon nodded. "Yeah, I was supposed to be inside. Hopefully they'll let me in, as long as I don't get there too late." He started walking past them and then picked up Scott with one arm and managed to throw him over his shoulder. "Which way to the party?" 
The three of them walked in silence the two blocks. Scott and Harvey's hearts vouched for his authenticity. They were too afraid to speak. Damon saw the lights first over the buildings. Then, the beautiful sky rise appeared out of nowhere once he turned the last corner. He could hear the music and people talking, saw the line waiting to get in. He felt Harvey tense up again, but nothing from his shoulder. Scott was still either out cold or playing dead. Damon bypassed the line and walked down the side alley to the back loading and unloading entrance. There were two guards, one bald headed but shaved shiny with a straight razor, the other had an afro.
"I found them," Damon announced as he walked up to the two who were standing around talking. There was a large Mac truck pulled up with its doors open. "They were running down an Ashley street, thinking they could get away."
"Found who?" Asked the one with the afro. He had a deep voice that rumbled in his throat like gravel.
"The humans who escaped. I was told when I reported for guard. I was supposed to be inside tonight, but when I got here they told me I wasn't going anywhere until these two were found." Harvey was struggling to get out of his grip but Damon had a strong hand. No movement from Scott, and Damon was beginning to wonder. He knew Scott was still alive, the two rapid heartbeats were driving him insane. 
"I've been here all night and I haven't heard nothing about no runaways. Things have been running smoothly." The baldheaded vampire crossed his arms. 
"I talked to some guy out front. You know, what's his name, the tall guy with the brown hair?" Damon pretended to be remembering but knew his chances were good that there was a tall guy with brown hair around there somewhere.
"Kris?" 
Damon had gone all the way to the top without even thinking about it. He guessed Kris and Lilith were the hosts. Even better, they'd have their hands busy all night. "Yeah, Kris. He was pissed off."
The two vampires looked at each other. Then the vampire with the afro with the thick silver chain around his neck grabbed Harvey's arm and lifted up his sleeves, then did the same for Scott. "They're missing their tags."
"They must've taken it off," Damon said.
The guy with the afro, still close, looked Damon in the eyes and narrowed them. "Where are their tattoos? They were instructed to bring the best of their lot, their own personal property. Where are they?"
Damon panicked but was reminded of what he and Harvey had planned to do if all else failed. Deny, deny. "How do I know where their tattoos are? All I was told that I was supposed to find them and bring them back, which I did. If you have a problem with it, you can talk to Kris." Damon was praying that Kris wouldn't come walking out right then.
The bald headed one sighed, ran his hand over his scalp and pulled the afro vampire back. "Maybe they're extras."
"Extras?" The one with the afro said, and then raised his eyebrows. "Then maybe no one would notice if they were missing from the festivities." 
 All those vampire assholes thought alike. "If Kris sent me out to find them, then they'd be missed." Damon pretended to be anxious, which actually, wasn't very hard. "And I'm not going to answer to Kris just because you two can't wait until this is all over. Now, where do these go?"
The bald-headed one shrugged. "I'll take them to the loading room behind here. Most of the meat is being held there until the end of the night for the sacrifice."
Damon nodded, hoping not only that Harvey and Scott would be able to protect themselves but that they'd do it inconspicuously and quietly. "All right," he said glancing at the afro-ed vampire. "But I'll be looking for them at the end of the night." He thought he saw a look of thanks in Harvey's eyes when he handed him over. Next, he handed over Scott, who still wouldn't open his eyes, and the bald headed vampire had to put him over his shoulder to get him inside. 
When Damon walked up the back door, anxious and scared, he saw that it didn't have a handle, but a little card swipe next to it. He cursed himself for not thinking of it, and paused, trying to think of a good excuse as to why he supposedly had the authority to be inside but didn't have a card. What were the chances that the vampires would not only have inside access but would be willing to share it with Damon? He swallowed and was about to turn away when the door slid open it slid open and there stood Kris, looking Damon right in the eyes.
Damon stopped dead in his tracks, thinking that he was caught and it was all over, but Kris was on his cell phone and, after actually facing Damon, took a step back impatiently without missing a beat in his conversation, so that Damon could enter. Damon walked past him slowly, with his body tense, expecting Kris to wait until Damon thought he was home free, to reach out and grab him. But Kris just kept talking and walked outside. It wasn't until the door closed behind him that Damon remembered his change in appearance. Thank the Lord for women, who were never happy with the looks they were given. Damon breathed in deeply the smell of blood, and it was so strong that he almost forgot why he was there. He quickly walked into the crowd of people, trying to disappear before Kris noticed the two extra humans, recognized Harvey and blew their whole plan.
Once Damon had immersed himself in the sea of walking corpses, he wondered where Luna would be. Would she be a sacrifice? He doubted it. Kris wouldn't go through all the trouble just to kill her. That was, of course, if Lilith hadn't worked her magic and talked him into getting rid of her. Lilith hated any kind of competition. 
The hall was beautiful, golden and peach striped wallpaper, parquet floors, and crystal chandeliers. Expensive. He knew he'd find Lilith there. The crowd seemed for the most part to have all of their attention on the tiny piano player playing on the grand piano in the middle of the ballroom. She was a young girl, not even in her teens, human, and she was brilliantly playing some classical piece that Damon thought sounded familiar. Would she be a sacrifice? Her heart was beating quickly along with the music and as he got closer he saw that her hands were shaking. She was dressed in renaissance garb and her hair had been curled into perfection. She looked like a little porcelain doll, the kind his Mom used to collect and it made Damon sick when he realized it was the same thing those people were doing, except that their dolls were living. It made Damon sick. He continued walking, as hard as it was to tear his eyes away and move on.  
Most of the people there he didn't recognize. There were women dressed in every decade of clothing, the same went for the men. He didn't remember if Harvey and Scott had called it a meeting for the state, region, the US, or the world. No, not the world, he remembered. His kind were afraid of water, weren't they? He ran his hand over his soft head, and steadied himself. He'd made it halfway there. He was inside. He tried to move away from the music but the crowd was too thick, no way to move position without drawing attention to himself. He scanned the room for Lilith, but didn't see her anywhere. 
Once the classical piece was over, the current of the crowd moved to another room, where he found the dining room set up as a buffet with an antique fountain depicting a village on a mountain. The houses were made of pure gold, the mountain from silver. The golden village on the silver mountain was sustained on a swift moving river that was vivid red and still warm. He picked up a glass and dipped it in the red sea that surrounded the mounting. The blood was fresh, warm, and young. That is why the vampires were meeting. That was what they wanted. A society of vampires where humans are bred for food, a demon utopia. Damon drank deeply from the glass. There was no way he'd be able to put it down even if he wanted to. He'd come to terms with the fact that he was an animal, too. 
Damon's heart clenched as he heard Lilith's laugh rise above the conversation as it lulled. He did his best not to whip his head around. Instead, he turned slowly, following the noise to where she stood, not halfway across the dining room. It was a beautiful hall, similar to where his record label threw its Christmas party. The walls were red, inlaid with gold threads and the candelabras looked like they were solid brass. Damon thought it was amazing how comfortable everyone looked. Lilith was standing there, speaking with a group of men, and as usual, and she was the center of attention. She was wearing an all black short slinky dress, knee high black stiletto boots. She looked like his fantasy, the kind of woman who'd make him work for it, make him get down on his knees and beg for it, all the while loving every minute of it. She must've felt his eyes on her because her emerald eyes flicked over and met his, and he thought he'd die right there, of fear. 
He glanced away again, feeling like it was the first time he'd seen her, and it had started, all over again. There he was, soaking wet and recently deceased and mainly, vulnerable. But while he thought Lilith would dart across the room, her eyes turned away and he hadn't been found out, not yet. To avoid being obvious, he moved back into the crowd before she realized he was staring. He chose a spot further away, but when he turned his gaze back to her, intent on following her progress through the entire night, she met eyes with him immediately. It was like she was intent on following him too. 
Damon left the room entirely, crossed the entire hall, not too quickly, but headed out towards the double doors that lead to the balcony, which faced the city. It reminded Damon of the party he'd accompanied Lilith to. The hall there had a balcony with two entrances too. He stopped in the threshold, remembering the night and thinking that if Lilith did discover him, it was best to stay in public and trust on her obsession with maintaining airs. Damon turned back to head in another direction, but found Lilith so close behind him that he brushed her clothes when he turned. He took a step back and his back touched the glass doors that were propped open. 
"Who are you?" She asked flatly, not letting any emotion slip. 
Damon snickered and looked away, having no intention of speaking and giving away his identity so quickly. Although he reasoned, his voice was back to normal and he'd lost the rough tones Lilith had been used to hearing. Damon nodded to a very rich looking old woman sitting with her legs crossed on a chair surrounded by men.
Lilith followed his gaze and smiled sweetly. Damon hoped she wouldn't be able to spot his fake eye color. "The guests were told that the compound was secure. There weren't permitted to bring their own security."
"I'm undercover," he whispered, leaning in close. He hoped he looked sexy with his bald head, at the very least interesting, just as long as he didn't look how he really felt, which was terrified.
She smiled, her lips perfect, white. "Yeah?" She paused. "You look so familiar." Damon gave her his best grin, shrugged, not denying it. He had no problem with her leaning in close. She wouldn't be able to recognize his smell because he'd practically bathed in Harvey's cologne. He'd be all right as long as his blood wasn't spilled, and he didn't have any plans on that happening. She leaned in then, inhaling deeply, trying to come up with some memory. It obviously wasn't working. "Interesting," she said, although he thought she sounded a bit annoyed. He didn't relax until she'd pulled away. He had visions of her just grabbing him and sinking her teeth in. "What's your name?" She asked him. 
Damon opened his mouth but didn't know what to say, noticed people glancing in their direction. "Maybe we should talk in private." He sounded scared, he knew. He was blowing it.
"Maybe," she said slowly, drawing the word out, "We could talk outside." And, hitting a button besides him on the wall, the doors started to swing shut, pushing Damon outside. The panic didn't quite set in until the doors closed seamlessly, and it seemed as if they were soundproofing the party as well as anything that were to happen on the balcony. 
They took the time to look out over the city for a moment and Damon briefly contemplated just jumping over the edge and running. He hadn't planned exactly what to say to her, just imagined that by now she'd be begging for her life. Lilith hugged her arms and walking around him in a circle, looking him over. His body was tense, reminding himself how fast she was. 
Finally, she stopped. "Who are you?" She asked. She was getting angry and he knew he had to say something before she lost it. 
It was time. Don't blow it. "It doesn't matter," he said softly. "I'm no one, not without you. But you were there for my death. Now I want to know the story of yours." He couldn't hide the cocky grin. He would've been okay if he'd hid it. Damon tried circling her, like a predator, but Lilith didn't appear to be nervous in the least. He stopped and Lilith crossed her arms.
"What have you done with your hair?" She asked, sounding concerned, but Damon knew she was just buying time because he hadn't seen a look of recognition on her face yet and while she probably suspected it was him, she didn't think he'd be the kind to get passed the guards and she was worried that he may be someone from the past and was thinking far beyond him to all of the other men she'd ruined. So, he was safe while he kept her intrigued because she wouldn't call him out until she was sure.
He ignored the comment. "I know why you did it. It was no surprise after what Kris did to you."
Damon knew her hands were coming out, and he was able to catch them before she could grab the collar of Harvey's borrowed dress shirt. 
Lilith didn't look surprised, just angry. "Why are you here?" She asked him, and he could see her teeth when he spoke. He had to be careful, and he had to be fast.
"I need to finish this," Damon said, and he felt wild, like a killer. She hadn't done anything, in this visit anyway, that warranted murder. 
Lilith didn't laugh like he'd expected her to and for the first time she seemed nervous and glanced at the glass doors. Damon did too, but there were no witnesses there, no one to save her.  "Which do you want to hear?" She asked, as she pulled her wrists out of his grasp and they were circling again. "About me hanging from the rafters of my fathers stables? Would that get you off then?" Damon open his mouth but Lilith continued. "How about before then, the rape, since you want to know so much, do you want to hear about my brother on top of me, biting my face and then slitting my throat? Well, what story do you want to hear?"
"Oh," he said, his voice louder than he'd meant it. Sarcastic. "So that's where you get it from."
"Damon," she said, her smile coming on full strength. "Who let you in here?" She asked him as if he were some unfortunate child.
Damon clenched her throat in his hands, was able to because as soon as she was sure it was him, her body relaxed, assured that he'd never do anything to hurt her. Damon ignored the scratches her nails made in his skin. He was angry now, in a rage really, and he didn't feel any pain. "That was a lie, Lilith," he said, his teeth clenched, "Kris didn't kill you. I know how things work. I'm not as stupid as you think I am." 
It was his turn to be caught off guard. He'd been cocky, hadn't spaced his footing. Lilith was able to swipe his legs out from under him and send him to the ground, his head making a cracking sound on the concrete. "I didn't say that he killed me," Lilith rasped. "I spent two months in a coma." Damon felt satisfied that he'd hurt her, mentally and physically, but it wasn't enough, he wanted more. He wanted blood. But time was running out and someone would eventually wonder why the doors were closed. "And I didn't say which brother. Did you think I would forgive him for that? He's lucky that he's still even walking this earth. I let him suffer, I let him see how powerful I've become, as a warning to what will happen if he ever tried to touch me again."
There had to be something else, something she was leading up to. Cue the oldest brother Harvey had mentioned. Stupid bitch didn't do everything for theatrical effect. There was pain and truth in her story. Damon sat up and grabbed the top of her dress, pulling the stretchy material low enough to expose the lacy black bra underneath and heard it tear, looking into her face to see if there was a family resemblance he could place, but he couldn't find one. "Who?" Lilith slapped him against the face but he still didn't let go. "Who?"
She slapped him again. "Fuck you." 
He was running out of time to hear the rest.  "The original Lilith changed you," he said. It was offered out as bait. Lilith just scowled and pushed his face away. Damon let go and used it as a chance to get back on his feet.
"You know nothing." Her dress was torn halfway down the front, and they were circling again. 
"I don't need to know anything to kill you," Damon said. Both of their faces had an odd seReneeness. "His name, Lilith," he said, his hand ready to grab the weapon he'd brought just for her.
"You should know. He's one of your closest friends. And you wonder why I hate you," Lilith said. 
Damon couldn't hold back his outburst. "I've never done anything to you," he said, practically yelling. He wasn't sure why, but it felt good. Lilith didn't have time to respond because his hand was already on the big spike he'd dug up from some old train tracks he'd found. He'd woken up in the middle of the night, snuck out and walked for hours, thinking of ways to kill her. He'd walked until the sun came up and he found some old train tracks. He'd polished it through mid morning until it shone, silver, shiny, like new. His aim was good and he plunged the stake, not in her chest, but in the middle of her throat, the only part of her body thin enough for the stake to go through and still anchor into the side of the building, if he'd enough strength and anger, and Damon had. 
The veins of her neck burst and dripped against the silver, turning it back into the rust color it had been when he'd pried it out of the ground. The blood made it too slippery for her to pull it out, even if she'd had the leverage, which she didn't, because her toes were an inch off the ground. Damon stood there and watched her struggling to pull out the stake, trying to murder him with her eyes. After a moment, Damon gathered all of the strength inside of him and yelled in her face, so hard that his lungs ached, "I hate you!" Then, he took out the small vial of hairspray from his pocket, pulled the top off, and poured it all over her. She tried to speak, but only a croak came out.
At that moment, Damon remembered the look on her face when she'd slit his throat and the significance of the stake now in hers overwhelmed him, and he found himself pounding it with the palm of his hand yelling, "I hate you!" with every strike, driving it deeper into her throat and the wall. Once she lost consciousness, Damon stopped and he thought that his dead heart actually hurt. He felt that with killing Lilith, he'd killed every woman he'd ever loved. Except that he hadn't finished killing her yet.
Damon took a deep breath to help slow the tears and put his forehead against hers, which had slumped forward. Her skin was pale and translucent under the moon. Her lips, perfect pink pillows. She'd always looked beautiful when she was sleeping. Bella. Even she was second to Lilith then. "I loved you," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers. He pulled out his silver lighter, flipped the top and lit it. 
This is how it ends. 
 Damon brought the edge of the flame to the bottom of Lilith's dress and stepped back once the flame caught and it spread fast, even faster once it touched her skin. Damon wiped his face but didn't turn away from the fire until her entire body was burning and the heat made it too uncomfortable to stare. She never woke up. 
This is how it ends. 
Damon didn't realize he wasn't alone until the clapping began. Damon was jumpy and had made it halfway to the glass double doors when he saw the figure walk out of the shadows. He knew how stupid he'd been, hadn't bothered to even look closely around. He stopped, faced the rapist, liar, murderer. He'd had to make an appearance sometime. The oldest brother. 
"Michael," Damon said. The grin was bigger than ever and Damon wanted to destroy him.
"That was excellent," Michael said. "A great job, Damon. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that." He walked slowly forward, crossing in front of the glass doors. "Thank you, Damon." 
"This is what you wanted?" Damon asked, his fists clenching and unclenching.
Michael stopped, hearing the hostility in his voice. He crossed his arms. "This is what we both wanted."
Damon dropped his lighter, and the noise made Michael jump. "You're a liar."
Michael's grin was gone and with his new knowledge, Damon could see how he looked like Kris, but not like Lilith, never like her. "Did you really want that bitch running things?" Michael asked him, Damon now seeing his act, his parody of a used car salesman. "It'll be better once things calm down and they'll see who knows best."
Damon's jaw dropped. "You are out of your fucking mind."
"Who better to lead our people into the future than a man who can foretell it? You listened to me, and look where you are now. I promise, Damon. I won't forget what you did for me." Michael shook his head. "I told you that you'd make it up to me."
Damon glanced at the smoldering black form that was Lilith. "What I did for you," he repeated. "Look at what you made me do!" Damon screamed suddenly, pointing to the monstrosity that had used to be a goddess. The fire was smoldering and showed no signs of extinguishing. Suddenly he felt like he'd never really wanted to kill her at all.
Michael paused and frowned. "I just couldn't do it." His eyes had glazed over and Damon knew Michael was out of his mind. "I tried. I could never put that woman in her place." He paused. "But that was before I had the sight and realized that I didn't have to do it myself."
"How many?" Damon asked, holding his stomach and completely consumed with his feelings of nausea. Bella. He had a sick feeling that they'd all die now. "How many were there that attempted before me?"
Michael shook his head as if he'd just been accused of something. "Not many. A few." Again, he looked off into the distance and Damon wondered how he'd ignored the signs of instability. "I could never influence her in that way, she'd have been suspicious." Damon took a few steps toward the door. Fuck that family, he'd had enough. 
Damon swallowed and paused for the lump in his throat to go down. "She was your little sister. You two were humans. And you still remember it don't you? That fucking flag hanging in your room. You think that gives you the freedom to defile and degrade your kid sister?"  Damon looked away because Michael appeared content. "How could you?" He was speechless. Here, all along Michael had been his moral compass, and to look back at how Damon had been manipulated by a psychopath. "You were a monster before you were a monster. You know that?" Damon shook his head.
 "Look, Damon," Michael said, "No hard feelings, alright? We're still friends, okay?" Damon didn't stop until Michael grabbed his arm. "Hey, this is serious." Damon focused on the hand on his forearm, not on the sincere face of a friend that he'd trusted. "I'm about to save your life again."
Oh, how generous. Damon's hand went to the blade handle in his pocket. "Don't," Michael said, slowly and deliberately, the way you'd talk to your child. "The humans-" Michael never finished because Damon kicked him in the chest instead. 
Betcha didn't see that coming, asshole. Then, when Michael bumped his back against the railing, Damon brought out the blade and sliced Michael's throat open. He didn't resist the blood this time, he grabbed Michael's body from falling over into the streets below, and drank. It didn't last long because he couldn't stand the taste or the images he'd seen in his head and Damon stopped, knew right there, that Michael's head was not some place he wanted to be.  He'd seen the future, and Michael had told him the truth, at least in that respect. The humans knew and they were coming, and Damon was glad he'd taken Michael out of the equation because he'd seen Kris wasn't the only family member who'd wanted Luna; only Michael hadn't wanted her to keep. The image of his tortured Bella set his mind where it should've been all along and he left the two bodies there, after digging that steel blade into Michael's chest and twisting, and he headed to the double glass doors with new purpose. 

A Vampire Slayer. I'll Be Coming Back For Her. All Right.

When Damon entered the hall, closing the doors behind him, he saw everyone's attention was towards the front of the room, so he was able to blend right back into the crowd. He hadn't been too late, it looked as if the festivities were about to begin. Everyone's attention was on the heavy, engraved doors that were being pulled open by the former Lilith's laymen. The first person that walked out, a human with such an irregular heartbeat as to suggest that it could stop at any moment, looked familiar, even from where he stood, far back in the crowd. She was dressed in a long gray and black gown that was somehow both expensive and disturbing. He pushed his way forward, wiping his mouth and his neck hoping that Michael's blood was not obvious, trying to get a closer look at her. The gray mesh on the top half of her gown accentuated the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra and she was obviously very cold, but the detail on the satin black lower half suggested that it had been carefully thought out and designed. The only sounds were the step of their shoes. Luna came forward with her eyes glazed, hair pulled severely back, deep gashes on her neck and a chain collar that was hanging loose around her painfully thin neck. It wasn't until he saw the other end of the chain in Kris's hand that he realized the woman he was looking at was his former lover, his life, his Luna.
Damon stomach jumped and he forgot about the murders he'd committed, and pulled his cold sopping wet shirt away from his skin, wishing the blood would dry, glad that it was black and just appeared that he was wet, only the smell suggesting that it was fresh. The couple floated through the mass of people, who all moved out of the way to let them through. Damon moved forward again, trying to get closer to that heartbeat, barely noticing that while he'd slid behind a man wearing a white jacket, he'd left a smear of blood across the back. Luna was floating across the hall, as if sleepwalking, leading her master, appearing to be a ghost in the flesh. That was their new aim, the upper class, humans as domesticated pets. As she came closer, Damon wanted to reach out and grab her, but he resisted. Instead, he stared at her face so hard that she must've felt it, because her eyes flickered and then turned to look right into his. He was stunned. She remembered him, there was something in her eyes, her step hesitated, and then she was gone. She continued walking and Kris glanced right at him with no sign of recognition. 
The couple continued walking to the front of the hall, near the mountain that was flowing blood. Kris was dressed in a deep rich burgundy and stopped, turned towards the crowd and opened his mouth as if was about to speak. Before he could get a sound out, there was a scream from the balcony and everyone was turning towards the glass. Everyone but Damon, who kept his eyes on Luna, and the fact that there was a closed door right behind where she was standing. Not really standing, she seemed to be leaning on the wall for support. It made him sick. 
Someone yelled over the commotion, "It's your sister," and no one had to ask whose. Kris turned towards the doors, and someone else yelled, "It was the humans," another yelling, "A vampire slayer."
It wasn't what Damon had planned, but he was happy with the result. Kris rushed through the crowd to see what was going on, leaving Luna leaning against the wall. Damon pushed his way through the crowd, walking against the current, fighting his way to Luna. He was hoping for more than a blank stare when he grabbed her, but at least she didn't yell when he grabbed her wrist. In one quick move, he grabbed her and picked her up easily because of all the weight she'd lost. She looked like she'd drop dead from hunger at any moment. He could feel her bones through her clothes, anorexia nervosa had nothing on her. He opened the door and slipped in, his nearly dead bride in his arms, hoping to find a hallway but found only a supply closet lit with one bare bulb. Damon slid in so fast that he bumped into a silver breaker box and the cover slid to the floor, causing a large clattering noise. He paused with his hand over Luna's mouth, listening over her breathing to try and see if anyone was attempting to come in, but all he could hear was the same commotion outside. 
Damon relaxed a bit and looked down at her face, still blank and far away, and then focused on the wall behind her, on the breaker box that didn't actually contain anything other then white silly putty looking stuff, and intermittent fuses connected by colored wires. He'd killed Michael for telling the truth. The humans were already there.
Damon knew he didn't have time to hide Luna and come back to her later. He needed to get out of the building as soon as possible. So he held on to Luna's hand and looked out onto the hall. Most people were on the balcony if not facing it, and Kris was nowhere in sight. Because of the people crowded in a group he was able to pinpoint guards standing by the door Kris had come in. He rushed over to them, carrying Luna in his arms because he couldn't trust her to walk. There were screams and gunfire coming from the area of the balcony. His time was running out. 
"They want everyone out there," Damon said, trying to sound out of breath and nervous, which didn't take much acting. "I'm to watch the humans." He hoped he looked official enough, with one of Kris's most prized possessions in his arms.
"What's going on over there?" Asked one of the vampires, an Asian man who looked like a teenager.
"It's bad. I think its humans," Damon said shaking his head, and it made the vampires grin at each other and hurry towards the crowd, some of which were filing out of the exits. Damon opened the door they had been guarding and stuck his head in, thanking his luck at finding a kitchen where humans were sitting on the ground, chained together like slaves. He walked in, making sure he was the only vampire in the room, still carrying Luna, who made no effort, no sounds, and no resistance. It was an improvement from the old frightened one, but he was deeply afraid that when it was all over, Dr. Walker wouldn't be able to get that mind back. Damon shoved a chair under the doorknob like he'd seen in movies, and hoped that it would at least buy him some time. He saw Harvey and Scott chained, looking a bit shaken up but smiling when they saw him enter. He took a step towards them but Harvey jumped up and pointed back to the door.
"The keys," Harvey said.
Damon put Luna down carefully on the floor and turned to find the keys hanging on a hook next to the door. They were huge iron keys that looked like they belonged to nineteenth century jail cells and they jangled loudly when Damon picked them up. He guessed they'd wanted to make that part idiot proof. The last thing they needed was some stupid jerk losing the keys. Damon ran over and knelt next to Harvey, who grabbed the keys out of his hand and began trying them in his lock. Scott was bouncing up and down, waiting for his turn. 
"You did it," Scott said, looking giddy, "I can't fucking believe it."
Damon didn't allow himself to celebrate. There was no telling how long they had, there hadn't been a timer. 
Harvey looked up at him, noticed the look in his eyes, kept trying the keys but periodically kept looking back at his. "So you found her." It wasn't a question, and he said it in a low tone.
"What was left," Damon replied. 
Harvey glanced at his eyes again then slid the right key into the lock. "What's going on out there?"
Damon hesitated then figured Harvey needed to know. He leaned in to whisper it in his ear, sure that no one else could hear. "There are bombs in the building."
Harvey froze for exactly one second, then released the lock and stood up. He looked like he was going to be sick. There were at least twenty-five people in the room, all locked individually, most of whom had been sitting and crying silently. Damon could see in his mind he was calculating whether or not he'd have time to release all of the locks. 
Damon went ahead and unlocked Scott, finding the right key on the second try and wondered what it was that had given him such good luck that night. Then he knelt down next to a man in a business suit, the next human in line. "Start unlocking yourselves." He looked into the man's eyes, knowing he'd be easily controllable because of his state of mind. "Work fast but calm and don't leave anyone behind." The man nodded as if he were in a trace but as soon as Damon stood up, he began working on the locks. "Where's your father?" Damon asked.
Harvey shrugged, looking at a loss, looking shattered, knowing they were out of time. "I haven't heard."
Scott suddenly jumped up and down. "I think I saw him when they were being led in. There was a man with a beard, and a dirty white coat, he was in a cage."
Harvey raised his eye brows but Scott turned and started running towards the back of the door. He slipped on some blood on the floor and fell, giving Harvey a chance to catch up and Damon a chance to grab Luna's hand and pull her to her feet. He glanced back at her and realized he'd left that collar on her. He stopped and unbuckled it, wanting to kiss her because he was so glad they were doing it, they were getting away. If only he'd had a chance to set Kris on fire too, to kill that fucker and make sure he wouldn't be able to follow. Harvey stood above Scott, waiting for him to get up. "Let's go," he said.
Scott looked up at him, wide-eyed and pointed under the kitchen counters. "Guys, I think there's a bomb under here." 
Damon reached down and physically picked him up. "I know. And who do you think did it?" Harvey began leading them to the back door. "Humans, a force worse than vampires."
Scott mouthed the answer with him, laughed, but it wasn't a normal laugh. It was more of an, oh shit I'm going to die, laugh.
"Where?" Harvey demanded. They'd walked out into an open warehouse area. There was coughing coming from a covered crate on one side and although Damon hurried, Harvey still sprinted and beat him to it. When they removed the canvas, they found Dr. Walker covered in dirt and blood, but still breathing. Harvey laughed out loud and knelt down in front of the door. "Dad."
"Son?" Came the small frightened voice of the doctor. 
Scott knelt down too, looking at the lock that was attached the latch on the oversized dog crate. He paused for a moment and then let it fall with a huge clank on the metal. "We left the keys."  He looked back into the other room.
Damon shook his head. "No time, we have to move." 
Harvey was inspecting the sides. "We could probably just take it apart."
They all stood up and Damon gave Luna's hand to Scott. "Don't take your eyes off her for a second," he said, still not sure if he could believe her comatose state was genuine.
Scott nodded. "Is she going to be okay?"
Damon didn't answer, just picked up the doctor's crate and carried it over his head. "You're going to have to cover us," he said to Harvey, who nodded and reached into his pocket. 
Once the door swung open, Damon could see that Scott was going to get the vampire battle he'd wanted. There emerged into the back alley where they'd came in, but now there were five vampires watching guard, and they weren't going to give Damon a chance to talk his way out of things. Harvey had his full size bottle of hairspray in his jacket and lighter ready, and created a ball of fire that consumed the first vampire, who Damon never even had a chance to see. Scott slipped past him without a word and shined his flashlight in the eyes of the vampire with the big afro that they'd seen coming in, causing the vampire to cry out and clutch his eyes in pain and the entire time, Scott never let go of Luna, who was covering her eyes with her free hand. Harvey shot another ball of fire at a couple of female vampires, and Damon walked past them as they tried to roll on the ground to put it out, but it didn't seem to be working on the concrete. Eventually, they just stopped moving. Scott seemed to feel the need for variety and pulled out his bottle of holy water to stop another vampire who was about to pounce on Damon as he walked down the loading ramp. Scott sprayed it into his face, which had the same effect as it had on Lilith, the smell and burn of acid. Damon had to take a few steps to the side to keep the splash to a minimum because he could feel the individual drops that landed on his arm.
They all looked around, expected more, but vampires were on a shortage, they were all inside trying to find out what was going on with Lilith, and Michael, and the humans that had begun to storm the grounds. Had to keep moving. Damon headed for the truck that was still sitting there with its back door open. 
"You think they left the keys?" Scott asked, struggling to keep up, pulling Luna behind him.
"Why not? They have excellent security," Damon said, groaning as he placed the doctor gently in the back of the Mac truck. He pushed it far enough to the back where it was in no danger of sliding out unless they were going up some steep hills. 
"Keys," Harvey cried as Damon came up to the passenger's side. They were in the ignition. Harvey started the truck as Damon slid in next to Scott and Luna. As they pulled away from the curb, Damon took Luna's hand and held it in his own. She looked at him blankly and didn't say anything.
"Will she come out of this?" Damon asked Harvey without ever taking his eyes from her face.  He wanted to be sure that if he never saw her face again, that he'd remember it forever. It was all worth it, even if that was all he'd have a chance to do. 
Harvey glanced over. "We can turn her into a person again. I just don't know how much of her memory we're going to get back."
Damon nodded. Luna's eyes had drifted off again. Harvey was coming to an intersection, the light was red. "Run it," Damon said flatly and Harvey did. "Is your Dad okay?"
Harvey nodded and grinned. "Yeah, I think so."
"Where are you going to take her?" Damon asked.
"Me? We're in this together. And we're going to have to disappear."
Damon nodded. 
The streets they drove down were completely clear, which was good since Harvey was going about 70 on a 35. Up ahead three men walked out into the street, trying to flag them down. "Don't stop," Damon said. "They're not human." 
As they got closer and the men didn't move, Harvey asked, "Are you sure?"
"Does it matter?" Damon asked looking over everyone to meet Harvey's eyes. He stepped harder on the gas. 
"Was it everything you thought?" Damon asked the only one in the car who'd gone purely for the experience. 
Scott grinned broadly. "We did it, man. It was incredible, and we fucking made it."
Damon was about to relax in his seat, and brought Luna's hand up to kiss it when he spotted the four military hummers that had set up a roadblock in front of them. There were men in guns standing up on the back. Harvey slammed on the breaks, and while Damon's heart sank, he knew it was mostly reflex and he probably would've done the same thing had he been driving. 
"I'll find you," Damon said in a soft voice that carried across the cab. 
"I knew it. I shouldn't have told you about that priest." Harvey sighed and slammed his fists on the steering wheel. The truck was completely stopped, the humans outside yelling for them to come out with their hands up. "We need to stay together."
"I'll find you," Damon said again, and looked out of the window at the humans. "They'll kill me," he said simply and nodded towards them, at the men pointing machine guns. "But you'll be okay." Damon seemed to think of something and grabbed a pair of sunglasses leaning on the rear view mirror and put them on Luna's face. "Make sure they listen to her chest. But they won't have the contacts, right?"
Harvey shook his head then opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he realized there were two men approaching his driver's side door with their guns raised.
"Thank you for the knowledge." Damon said to Harvey, knowing that he sounded genuine. "And please, take care of her." He put his hand on the door knob and then stopped. "You all get out first so they don't open fire. Come back for your father."
Harvey nodded and opened the door slowly.
Damon leaned over and whispered in Luna's ear that he loved her, to walk directly towards the bright lights no matter how much they hurt, and to keep her hands up. Always keep her hands up. 
"Hey," Damon called out and Harvey turned around, illuminated from behind by spot lights, a soldier cuffing him. "If this works out, I'm coming back for her."
Harvey looked like he wanted to say something but was pulled away and probably decided it was better to accept it, and kept his mouth shut. 
Damon waited until all of them were safe past the gun points and then slid out quickly and ducked down an alley. They chased him on foot a bit, but he headed to the area furthest away from the building and just when he thought he'd lost them, he heard an explosion that rocked the streets and almost brought him to his knees. He stopped, turned around and realized that he no longer heard footsteps behind him, and only regular traffic up ahead. He was alive after all, and although he didn't have the girl, had missed killing at least one of the bad guys with his own hands, and he had nowhere to go, he did have hope, something in the bottom on his belly that was growing and giving him something believe in. He'd find that priest, see if there was a way to go back, a way to wake up from that nightmare. 
Once Damon reached the normal city street with passing cars on it, he stopped and spared a minute to look back and he could see, as he looked up over the buildings, the rising smoke. Maybe the fates had taken care of what he hadn't had time to finish. Humans, the one force on the earth strong enough to keep the vampires down. Damon ran a hand over his scalp. For the first time in his life, he felt all right. 

###