Rose of the Emperor

In a world of darkness, blood, and fear, can two people from two very different backgrounds come together despite their hatred, fear, and the monsters in their pasts?

I

Zech

The building was smack in the middle of one of the country's largest cities. It was a huge, ugly thing, abandoned and slowly falling apart as the owner neglected to repair it. 

Standing on the sidewalk outside, I glowered up at the dilapidated structure. My hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of my long, black overcoat, the collar flipped up to protect my ears from the chill fall breeze. In one said pocket, my hand was securely curled around the butt of my favorite .44 pistol. Footsteps sounded on the sidewalk to my right, the jaunty, rhythmic smack of my partner's sneakers. 

"You always have to brood before a hunt, huh, Zech?" the man that spoke was around twenty years old, with floppy brown hair that got in his grey eyes constantly. He wore faded jeans and a bulky jacket that helped conceal his shoulder rig. 

"Shut up, Matt," I told him, smirking as he pulled a cigarette out and lit it. "You always have to have a smoke before we go Hunting." 

"At least my habit is a common-place occurrence," he retorted. "Not many people go around glaring at abandoned apartment buildings." 

"Bah," I snorted as he took a long drag, "that place is a nesting ground for monsters. And it's right in the middle of a tangle of complexes, a mall, and four different parks." 

"You got that right," he sighed, flicking ash onto the sidewalk. He stared at it for a moment before speaking again. "Sal brief you on the victims?" 

"Yep," I said tightly, my eyes narrowing. "Young mother and her two kids. Got grabbed about an hour ago." 

"Jesus," Matt shook his head, dropping his cigarette butt to the ground and grinding it out under his boot heel. "These things always go for the innocents, don't they, Zech?" 

"That's why we call them monsters," I replied grimly, looking back up at the grimy apartment building. "Come on. We're wasting time." 

"You know Sal doesn't like it when we go in without waiting for our back up," Matt sighed, putting a hand inside his jacket anyway to grasp at his gun. 

"Yeah, but do we ever listen?" I smiled coldly at him and he shook his head. 

"Let's get this over with," Matt sighed more deeply as we headed for the front door of the building, which hung crooked in its frame. 

We drew our guns as Matt slowly pushed open the door, and the late afternoon sunlight failed to penetrate the murky blackness that saturated the space beyond. 

For a moment, nothing stirred. 

Then, the hair on the nape of my neck stood up as my skin tried to crawl over my head to hide in my hair. My heartbeat quickened and sweat beaded on my forehead, palms, and upper lip. 

Something was watching us from the darkness beyond the doorway. 

As soon as I realized this, a raspy, hissing giggle came from the deep shadows, echoing in the empty entry way. A pair of empty eyes appeared and watched us from the darkness, bright with thirst and madness. 

Instantly Matt and I squeezed the triggers on our guns, his glock letting out a sharp pop pop pop in contrast to my .44's loud blam blam! Bullets whizzed towards the thing staring at us from the dark. The eyes widened, and there was an agonized shriek. 

A gangly body tumbled forward into the rectangle of light made by the door, and Matt and I stared down at what used to be a preteen boy. He'd been inhuman for only a few weeks, the incapacitation of rigor mortis gone, the rotting only just starting to reach its worst point. His clothes were scraps, torn and bloodied and soiled, his body bloated with gases as his insides decomposed. I could see maggots wriggling in his skin, and his smell wafted up to us, forcing me to wrinkle my nose involuntarily. After about ten seconds in the sun, the body burst into flames and turned to dust in just over two or three minutes. 

"Vampires," I said in disgust. "Come on." Matt followed me as I plunged into the darkness of the building after my prey and their victims. 

My name is Zechariah Malachi. I am one that seeks out and destroys the monsters that stalk human kind. I am a defender of innocents, an exterminator of what hides in the dark. 

I am a Hunter. 

II

Zech

Matt and I headed straight for the basement door, feeling our way through the dark, knowing the Vampires would want to be as far from the windows and sunlight as possible. We crept downstairs, starting at every creak of the wood and metal. 

There was another monster waiting about a third of the way down, a gangly creature that used to be male, and was now little more than skin and bones. It jumped at Matt, who let out a strangled shout before I put a bullet through the thing's heart. Matt smiled sheepishly at me, and I eyed him, raising an eyebrow. He scowled and jerked his head down the stairs. Then, from the darkness below us, there was a sharp, petrified cry of a human woman that was suddenly cut off. 

"Come on!" I snarled at Matt before plunging downstairs, deeper into the dark. A sense of urgency filled me, a terrible fear that if I didn't get there soon, it would be far too late for any of them. 

I rushed downstairs and grabbed for my flashlight and shined it into the murky blackness. I couldn't see anything with the thin beam, and panic started to rise in my throat. 

Fighting for control, I closed my eyes and listened for any clue as to where they might be. The soft whoosh of my lungs as I inhaled and the hurried thud of Matt's foot as he came down the last stairs to the basement sounded far away in my ears as I focused my senses forward, into the eerily silent basement. I could faintly hear the soft thud of Matt's heart and the gasp of his breath, but I tuned those out, too, straining to hear some sign of life in the large basement. 

The quiet, pain-filled gasp of a woman. A slow, labored thudding of an adult heart. And the panicked, fluttery sound of a child's. And finally, a nearly silent sucking noise, and the glugging of a rotting throat swallowing greedy mouthfuls of blood. 

The God dammed thing was feeding. 

"Zech--?" Matt whispered, but I didn't let him finish. The sounds were coming from the far corner, and I pounded towards them, trying to widen the beam of my light as I went. It lit upon the emaciated form of a starved Vampire crouched over the dreadfully still body of a woman in her mid-thirties. A little boy, maybe five years old, was curled beside her in the fetal position, clinging to one of her dead-white arms, senseless with panic. 

"Get the hell offa her!" Matt screamed, stepping forward and shooting at the Vampire. 

"Watch the kid!" I snapped when the monster released the woman to snatch up the child and drag him in front of its one vulnerable spot: right over its heart. I knocked Matt's arm away, but he'd already stopped shooting. 

"Drop the boy," I ordered the Vampire. "Step away from the woman. Now." 

"Huntersssss...." the thing hissed, drawing out the 's' like a snake. "I am no fool. I knowssss Hunter trickssss. If I dropsss thisss sssnack, you shootsss me. Sssso, I thinksss not." 

"Drop him!" I ordered. "Or I swear to God, I will hang you outside the window to meet the sunset!" Fury twisted the creature's face, making the rotting flesh flake and tear a little. 

"Inssssolent foolssss!" the Vampire shrieked, throwing the boy aside to leap at us. Instantly Matt and I fired, but the damn thing was just too fast to be hit with bullets. It came flying at my face, howling in a voice as dusty as the top shelves of my apartment. Its mouth was stretched wide, showing the tongue like a strip of beef jerky, lips like a dry pond and long, yellowing fangs. It was headed to rip out my throat but I'd been ready for that since it had spoken. 

It got about a foot away before I gutted it, using the knife I'd had tucked in a sheath up my right sleeve. It's belly, distended with blood, burst like a water balloon, spraying gore everywhere. Screaming with agony, the Vampire clutched at its stomach as the slimy ropes of its intestines spilled out in a rotting, stinking mess. 

"This is for those kids and their mom," I snarled, raising my gun, taking careful aim and neatly shooting it once through the heart, killing it. 

Breathing hard, I watched it crumple to the ground and stared at it for a moment. Then I turned to look for Matt. 

He was standing over the limp body of a woman with chestnut hair and blue eyes cloudy in death. Next to her, by her left leg, was a little girl with her back to me, bright blood staining her pink dress. Matt knelt down next to the still body of the boy and touched his neck, searching for a pulse. He sighed. 

All dead. 

"The females were dead, or as good as, when we got here," Matt said, his voice dull. "Then the Vamp threw the boy into that wall there. Broke his neck." I stared at the little family, at their blank eyes, their mangled bodies, and at their killer. 

"Better call Sal," I whispered, pulling  out my cell phone and pressing speed dial three. It started ringing, so I put it to my ear. I watched the storm gathering on Matt's open face. 

"Y'know, Zech," he said slowly, reaching over to gently close the little boy's eyes. "Some days, I really hate my job." He carefully arranged the children into the arms of their mother, closing all of their eyes. 

"I know, Matt," I said quietly. "Me, too. Me, too..." Then Sal picked up his phone and I softly told him what had happened. 

"Alright, Zech. I'll send clean-up over..." he sighed. Head of the Hunters, Sal had lots of death to deal with everyday, but it still hit him hard every time we lost victims. Maybe that was why he made such a good Hunter; he never lost hold of the pain of somebody-even a complete stranger-dying. 

I glanced over at Matt, who was looking down at the shattered family with a black look on his face. 

Some days....I really hate my job. 

III

Roze

Some days, I really hate my job, I thought as I did my best to keep smiling in the face of a particularly annoying customer. 

"Sir, you ordered your eggs scrambled," I told him patiently, holding up the slip of paper that I'd taken his order on. "Look, I have it right here." The guy was more than half a foot taller than me and probably twice my weight, so when he stood, he cut an impressively intimidating figure, but I stood my ground. 

"Look, chickie, I told you, I said over medium eggs!" he snarled, poking me in the chest just above my name-tag that read, "Hello, My name is....Roze" just hard enough to hurt. He continued speaking loudly enough to get the attention of everybody in Manny's tiny little diner, "I'm not paying for any of this!" 

"But you've already eaten four servings of pancakes, six servings of bacon, six of hash browns, and seven cups of coffee!" I spluttered in outrage. "You owe the diner $37.85!" 

"And I told you, I'm not paying any of it!" the man yelled. "You've already screwed up my order!" 

"You asked for scrambled eggs! It's right here!" I shoved the notepad under his bulbous nose and he swatted it aside, knocking it into an elderly man's breakfast. "Hey!" I protested. 

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," another waiter butted in, his expression stern. Jack wasn't nearly as fat as the rude customer, but what weight he did have was solid muscle, and he knew how to use it. 

I saw the conflict waging on the man's face: continue the scene and get out of paying, but probably be roughed up by a blonde waiter, or drop it, pay the money and escape unscathed. 

Finally he slapped thirty-five dollars into my hand and stalked away. 

"Hey!" I shouted after him. "You're $3.85 short!" He ignored me and kept going, slamming the door behind him as I shouted, "Jackass!" at his retreating back. 

"Roze, this is a family diner," Jack chided me. "And I don't appreciate you coupling swear words with my name." 

"Sorry," I said, grumbling to myself as I cleaned up the jerk's mess. 

"Yes, well, it happens," he replied, smirking slightly. Still grumbling, I spent the last three hours of my shift in a bad mood. When I yanked out of my employee apron and headed for the door, Jack caught up to me. 

"Hey, Roze, feeling any better?" he asked, grinning. 

"No," I grouched. "I hate people." He laughed, walking with me to the P.O.S. primer grey '94 Chevy sedan I drove. 

"Hey, uh, Roze, you got any plans for tomorrow night?" he asked suddenly as I was wriggling the key into the lock to open the door. 

"Why?" I asked immediatly, silently cursing the idiot that had bent my key just enough to make it annoying as hell to use (that idiot was me, by the way). 

"Just wondering if you'd like to, um...mebbegoutwitmetodamovies," he rushed, making it impossible to understand him. 

"What?" I asked, perplexed by his odd behavior as I paused in my key-wriggling. 

"Would you like," he said, taking a deep breath, "to go to the movies. With me?" He was blushing terribly and not looking at me as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. I finally realizing what he was asking of me. 

"Oh!" I blinked. "Well, actually, Jack, I'm not really interested in dating right now, at all. I'm busy enough as it is." 

"You're not busy," he mumbled rebelliously. "C'mon, Rozie. Please?" 

"No," I said firmly. "I'm sorry, Jack. Maybe next time." He sighed, a disappointed look on his face as I finally got my car door open. I got in and closed the door jamming the bent key into the ignition as Jack leaned in the open window. 

"Then I'll just ask you again tomorrow," he said, smiling. "See ya later, Rozie." He winked at me before going back into the diner, whistling under his breath. I stared after him for a moment. 

"Confident, isn't he," I mused to myself as I turned on my car and left the parking lot. As I navigated the streets of the city towards my apartment building, I thought about Jack idly. 

I'd lived in the city for nearly six years, in the same apartment, working the same job. Jack had waltzed into Manny's diner around two years ago, pestered Manny until he got a job as a busboy, helping various waiters and waitresses serve customers. I liked him well enough, what with his quick wit and easy smile, always laughing about something. More than a few of the girls at work swooned over him constantly, always chattering about him when they thought he wasn't listening. Thing was, Jack always seemed to be listening. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when people were talking about him, especially when it came to women. 

I supposed the reason why he was so interested in me was because I wasn't interested in anybody, really. I didn't allow myself. Not after what had happened to Bryar. 

Sitting at a stoplight, I shivered slightly at the memory of that day, of the fire, the smell. The blood. 

I shook my head violently, sternly reminding myself that though Bryar had survived that awful day, and I had escaped unscathed, the whole thing had been a mistake. A terrible, ill-fated, deadly mistake. All in the name of love.  

It was why Bryar had spent so many years drifting between life and death as I unwaveringly cared for her until she could do it for herself again. It was why we both avoided contact with each other. It was why I moved cross-country every six years and never to the same city as times before. It was why I lived alone. It was why I had no friends. I didn't even allow myself any pets. 

And most of all, I never ever allowed myself to date. After all, how can you hide from your lover the fact that you're Vampire? 

IV

Roze

There are three types of Vampires that prowl the earth. Their scientific names are Homo Mortui Vampiris, Homo Sanguinem Vampiris, and Homo Diurnae Vampiris. But the common folk call them Noctes, Opacares, and Sol Altusi. 

The first, the Noctes, are the foulest creatures to inhabit this world. Most of them are ancient, walking corpses that live only to eat, emerging from their lairs to capture food to drink, or victims to turn into Opacares, which are young Noctes. Unlike their Sires, Opacares can withstand short stints in the sunlight, and blend into human society slightly better after they pass through their rigor mortis stage. Male Opacares can also reproduce with human women, usually through rape, creating dhampirs, half Vampire children. Dhampirs have all the positive strengths of Vampires, and none of their weaknesses, though they are not usually seen as actual Vampires. When a dhampir is bitten by a Noctes or Opacares, it becomes the last type of Vampire, a Sol Altus, or living Vampire. 

I am such a creature. 

Sol Altusi like myself are considered the weakest of the "actual" Vampires since we are much like humans, save our heightened senses, faster reflexes, and greater strength and speed. Like all Vampires, Sol Altusi have a taste for blood, but is not essential to our living like our cousins. However, if we are injured, it can take us a very long time to heal without blood. 

So, there you are. Vampires 101. 

Even though I was the most human-like of the Vampire species, I was still a Vampire, and the whole world still hated me for everything I was, even though I'd only tasted human blood once in my life. 

If he knew what I was, Jack would have never asked me to the movies. 

He would have called the Hunters instead. 

A cold shiver ran down my spine as the light turned green and i urged my sedan into motion. Hunters were one of my worst fears; if they ever discovered me, I would be mercilessly erased, destroyed, exterminated. I was nothing but a monster to them. They did not care that I had thoughts and feelings like any human; all they saw were the fangs in my mouth and the thirst for blood in my belly. 

Dark thoughts filling my head, I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex and pulled into my usual spot. Yanking the key out of the ignition, I got out of my car and shut the door. 

That was when the smell hit me. 

Sweet, slightly metallic, cloying as it assaulted my senses, so strong I could nearly taste it. It sparked a howling hunger in my belly and a burning thirst in my throat that made me stand as stiff as a board, not even breathing. 

Blood. 

I smelled blood. But from where? 

I stared around, searching for the source. Across the street was an old apartment building; there were dozens around here, three or nine of them being empty shells. There were two ambulances, a fire truck, and scores of gawking civilians gathered around the sagging structure that I'd failed to notice as absorbed in my thoughts as I'd been. 

Without realizing it, I started across the street, drawn by the scent of blood. Some jerk in a pick-up truck honked angrily as I forced him to screech to a stop to avoid hitting me. I barely noticed, my body screaming for blood. I could feel my fangs pricking the inside of my lower lip, my mouth watering. I reached the sidewalk, where police were shooing spectators away. They didn't notice me, pre-occupied with a group of teenage boys that were refusing to leave. The smell of blood was stronger now, my body howled with need. 

A pair of paramedics emerged from the apartment, carrying a stretcher between them. They were followed by two men who stank of blood. 

The first was a man with messy brown hair and tired grey eyes, his sports jacket stained in a few places with blood. 

The second wore a long black coat, his hair dyed black with streaks of red in the front. His clothes were spattered in gore, as was his face and hands. His expression was cold, and hard, full of a hatred so pure it chilled me to the bone. 

But what stopped my hypnotic quest to find blood was t source of the scent. 

A little girl, around eight years old lay on the stretcher. She wore a frilly pink dress, one she would wear on a birthday, with shiny black shoes and white socks. There was a butterfly barrette in her hair. 

As the paramedics maneuvered down the stairs, her head lolled to one side, revealing the wound in her neck. Torn open by a Vampire's fangs, I could see the mangled arteries and tendons, white against the raw meat of the mangled muscles and flesh, gruesome and horrifying. I stared at the dark stain on the collar of her birthday dress, the blood spattered on her pale skin, the blood trailing from the corner of her mouth, the blood, the blood, so much blood. 

My stomach heaved and I vomited violently into the gutter, horror driving everything from my head except a mounting sense of disgust and shame. 

It had been her blood I had smelled. 

It had been her that I had wanted to eat. 

Oh, God. 

I was a monster. 

I threw up again, emptying my stomach, my whole body protesting what I was, what I had wanted to do. Tears sprang to my eyes as I fell to my hands and knees, puking my guts out. 

"Hey..." a voice said from above me, a hand appearing on my back. "Excuse me." I couldn't even look up. I retched, image after image of that dead child flashing through my head. 

"What's up with her, Zech?" another voice asked. 

"That's what I'm trying to find out," the first voice said crossly. "Hey, lady, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?" 

"That little girl..." I whispered, ignoring his question. "Oh, God. There are Vampires here. Noctes." The two men were quiet for a moment. 

"Yes," the first voice said suddenly. "But they're gone now. We killed them." That got me to look up. 

It was the two men I had seen from before, the one closest to me crouched down with his hand on my back. His black and red hair was lank with sweat and blood. I noticed that he had soft brown eyes. He was relatively young, maybe early twenties at most. He had a tiredness about him of a much older man, on that has seen far too much pain and death than one should in one lifetime. He smelled of Axe deoderant, blood, death, and anger. 

But those soft brown eyes spoke of genuine concern and kindness. 

Now, I'm blaming it on just puking up what felt like every meal I'd ever eaten, but my heart skipped a beat before picking up some major speed, pushing the blood to my cheeks, making me turn red. 

I wasn't blushing. I swear. 

"Are you okay, miss?" the second man asked, drawing my attention to him. He was around the same age as the first guy, with shaggy hair and an open face. 

"I'm feeling better now," I said hoarsely, my throat raw from vomiting. 

"Do you live nearby?" the first guy asked. 

"Across the street," I said softly, sitting back on my heels and gently touching my throat. 

"Matt, go ahead and finish up here," the first guy said. "I'm gonna make sure...um. Your name?" 

"Roze," I supplied, not really, listening. My focus was on the amount of vomit I'd spewed into the street. I wondered if I could get in trouble for that. 

"Okay, Roze, then. Matt, I'm going to make sure Roze gets home okay, and then I'll come back. So don't strand me out here. You're my ride back to HQ." 

"Okay, okay, I'll wait," Matt sighed. "Don't take forever; Melody'll get worried if I don't get home soon." 

"Alright. Ms. Roze, my name is Zech," the guy introduced himself before getting up. "Can you stand?" I nodded and fought my trembling body all the way back to its feet. I wobbled dangerously in my black heels and Zech steadied me by placing a hand on the small of my back automatically. 

"Sorry about the blood," he said as he looked both ways before crossing the street. "Try not to blow chunks again, eh?" 

"I don't think I could if I wanted to," I said faintly as my thirst started to burn at the thought and scent of blood. But I shoved it away, wrestled for control and won. 

One of my neighbors, Jose, a young Latino man, turned sheet white as we approached the door. 

"Ah, Senorita Roze! Do you want that I call an ambulance?" he asked, quickly yanking the door open. 

"No, no, not necessary, Jose," I reassured him weakly, waving a hand at his concern. "I've just had a bit of a bad evening..." He openly gaped as Zech helped me through the lobby to the elevator. 

"What floor are you?" he asked, peering at the faded and much abused buttons. The people in my building are impatient and like to think that hitting the button a million times will make it go faster. 

"Nine," I informed him, leaning heavily against the reflective wall of the elevator, my legs visibly shaking. Had I been living on a diet of blood, I would have been much stronger, but having certain....weaknesses, I was rather dependent on my daily consumption of human food and having my body empty of fuel meant I was almost defenseless. Zech pressed the button labeled with a faded number 9, then turned to look at me. I suppose I cut a pretty pathetic figure, pale and shaking, leaning against a wall and about ready to fall over. 

As the elevator moved slowly upward, he sighed, "You're lucky you're little," and scooped me up into his arms. I squeaked in protest and my face caught fire, but he ignored me. I could smell him much more intensely now, Axe deodorant, the sweat, blood and anger, all spicy, sour scents. But underneath all that, close to his skin, was a sweet, pleasant smell, like hot chocolate, a smell that made me feel inexplicably safe, and for the first time in my life, cared for. 

I leaned my head on Zech's shoulder, my nose close to his neck so I could breathe the scent that that told me that this man, this Vampire Hunter, genuinely cared about me, a Sol Altus. 

A tear welled up in my left eye and slid down my cheek. My heart felt swollen, and with every throb, it ached, and I didn't know why. 

V

Zech

When I saw Roze puking her intestines out onto the street, it struck a chord with me. After all, when I'd first seen someone murdered by Vampires, I had done the exact same thing. 

So, I went over to see if she was okay. 

She was a little younger than I had thought she was. She had long black hair up in a ponytail, and wore a crisp white blouse, a black business skirt and heels. When I first spoke to her, she didn't really look up, but when she finally did, it took my breath away. 

Her eyes were a brilliant shade of amber that were framed by thick lashes, set above high cheekbones, a cute nose, and a well sculpted mouth. Even though her eyes were full of tears and had a couple burst blood vessels from the force of her vomiting, her nose was running a bit, and there was vomit and saliva on her mouth and chin, my heart still sputtered oddly for a second. 

Matt gave me an odd look when I offered to take her home, but I ignored her and helped her across the street to her apartment. When we reached the ninth floor and got out, she laid her head on my shoulder, close enough to my throat for me to feel her breath. Heat crept up my neck and flooded my face. 

God, what is wrong with me?  I thought, mentally shaking myself. Being a Hunter, I had no time for relationships, and I didn't see the point of putting any woman through what Matt's wife did. It was an awful thing to witness, the naked relief on Melody's face when her husband came home to her after a Hunt. I never wanted a girl I cared about to go through the self-inflicted torture of wondering if she'd ever see me again after kissing me good-bye in the morning. I avoided relationships. It was better that way. 

"Eighty-six," Roze said, waving her hand at one of the brass-numbered doors. 

"Key?" I asked after awkwardly shuffling her around before trying the knob. 

"Here," she fished the ring out of her skirt pocket after I set her down, swaying dangerously and slumping into my side. She shook one key lose and I unlocked her door, helping her inside. 

Her apartment was a little one bedroom, one bathroom with a joint kitchen and living room. It looked like she'd lived there for several years, and it had a very personalized feel to it. Just from a quick glance, I could tell that her favorite animal was a wolf, and her favorite color was a deep, sensual red that was evident in her furniture and rugs. Her couch and coffee table were either gifts from her parents or from second-hand shops, and her TV looked older than my truck, which I'd had since I'd learned to drive. Along several of the walls were bookshelves stuffed to bursting with paperback books that all looked like she'd loved them to death, spaced every so often with a ceramic or glass figurine knick-knack of lupine shape or design. 

I helped her sit on her couch, and she protested softly, trying to keep a grip on me. She mumbled insistently, her hold surprisingly strong on my coat sleeve, "Not good manners to pass out with a guest." I snorted at that. 

"Don't worry, I'll just leave your keys here and lock the door after me, okay?" I suggested, setting her key ring down on the battered coffee table. 

"No," she hissed, her fingers locking on my wrist to a point very close to pain. "Noctes. Danger. Not safe. I'm not safe. Please...stay." Her eyes were wide with an emotional hybrid of panic and fury, making my heart skip a beat. 

"Okay, okay," I reassured her, trying to pry her fingers off my wrist. "Nothing's going to hurt you. I promise." Her grip slackened, and she sighed deeply. 

"I'm sorry," she breathed, closing her eyes and leaning back on her couch. "But Noctes scare me to death." 

"Yeah, they seem to have that effect on almost everybody," I chuckled, patting her knee. She smiled slightly, not opening her eyes, and I realized that she was falling asleep. I supposed she must have been wiped out by all that vomiting. I watched her for a moment until I was sure she was actually asleep, and then decided to go get a cloth to wipe her face clean of tears and snot and puke. 

I didn't find one in the kitchen, but I did discover that she liked pancakes and ramen, and that she didn't like doing dishes. I'm a little bit of a neat freak, so seeing those dishes sitting in the sink bugged me. Sighing, I started cleaning them. Halfway through, my cell phone buzzed angrily at me, and I paused to look at the screen. 

New Message: 

hey r u coming down here or not? cuz im leavin now.

-Matthew

"Oh," I said, realizing that I'd left Matt sitting in his car for most of an hour. "Well, crap." Sighing, I quickly typed a reply. 

Sorry. Just go ahead and go home. I'll take the bus home or something. See you tomorrow. 

-Z

I sent it, then nearly instantly got a reply back complaining about making him wait for nothing and that next time hid leave my a*s alone even if I didn't end up making him wait forever. 

Chuckling, I put my phone back in my pocket and returned to cleaning the dishes. While I was at it, I wiped down her counters and threw away some suspicious looking cheese that was in her fridge. Then I remembered my original quest and ventured into her bedroom and bathroom to look for a washcloth. 

Her room was unbelievably messy. Her clothes were strewn everywhere, her bed was unmade, and the drawers to her dresser were hanging open. With a long-suffering sigh, I threw her dirty clothes into the hamper, straightened up her dresser, made her bed, threw away fast food wrappers, empty soda cans, and other random bits of debris. The bathroom wasn't quite as bad, but she had makeup canisters and jars and tubes on every available surface, most of them appearing to only have been used once or twice. After organizing it all, I found a washcloth in one of the vanity drawers. 

As I was getting it wet, I glanced in the mirror and saw I was still spattered in gore from killing the Vampire earlier. Suddenly self-conscious I washed the blood from my face and neck, trying to clean up as best as I could. Then I went back out to the living room. Roze had slumped to the side, passed out on the couch. I gently wiped her face and mouth  clean, kneeling on the floor next to her couch. She mumbled something something and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked at me for a moment, confusion in her eyes. Her body visibly tensed and her nostrils flared. But then her eyes cleared and she relaxed again. 

"Oh...Mister Zech. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep..." she looked around as she slowly sat up, her eyebrows rising as she said, "You...cleaned my apartment." 

"Uh...yeah," I said, standing up and turning away. "Sorry about that. I have a thing about messes, can't leave 'em alone." She smiled up at me. 

"That's alright. Now I don't have to do it," she laughed softly as she got to her feet. She swayed a little bit, then steadied. Kicking off her heels, she suddenly lost several inches of height and padded into the kitchen in stocking feet. 

"You want something to eat?" she asked, yawning as she pulled left over pizza out of the refrigerator. 

"Oh, no, thank you," I said, examining her shelves of books. Some seemed to be rather old. She turned the TV on and flipped through the channels until she hit the six o'clock news. She waved me into a chair and stood munching on her pizza, watching the TV. I noticed that the anchorman was reporting on the Vampire attack that had occurred, and saw myself emerging from the abandoned building after Matt. God, I looked like hell. 

I didn't realize that Roze had moved until I felt her behind me, pressing against my back, her face close to my neck. 

"Ah, uh, what-" I stammered, heat flooding my face at her sudden closeness. 

"Shhhh...." she breathed, reaching up to untie her ponytail so that her dark hair tumbled down loos past her hips. Her lips brushed my throat, right over my racing pulse. her breath was hot and fast on my skin. I was so shocked and flustered that I couldn't move, almost didn't want to move. 

I felt her lips, her tongue, her teeth brushing against my throat. 

VI

Roze

I stood in my home, watching Zech watch TV, trying to enjoy my cold pizza. 

But I couldn't. 

I could smell Zech clearly; he had cleaned himself up a bit. He still smelled faintly of blood, sweat, and anger, but right now he smelled so much more like that sugary sweet scent that made my heart stutter and my breath catch in my chest. 

I wanted to bite him. I wanted to know if he tasted as good as he smelled. I could do it. It was nearly time for me to move on, anyway. Jack was taking too much interest in me; the Vampire attacks were becoming more frequent again...I could kill Zech, and move tomorrow...

I could do it. It would be easy. 

Just one bite...

Before I knew it, I had dropped the pizza and was standing behind him. I leaned down, pressing against his back, my face close to his neck. He twitched, startled and tried to say something, but I softly shushed him. 

I pressed my mouth to his skin, feeling his pulse racing under my lips. I touched my tounge to his neck, tasting that sweet scent on his flesh. A shiver passed down my spine and I struggled not to bite him right then. 

No, I can't....I thought, but I want to...I want to... My fangs lovingly bushed over the tender skin, searching for just the right spot. 

But then he pushed himself out of the chair, shouting, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Just a minute!" I followed him as he backed away until he hit the bookcase. I could smell that sweet scent, that and the hot, spicy smell of desire, both were rolling off him in waves as I trapped him, pressing my body against his, rising up on my toes, trying to reach his neck. 

"Hey, wait! Roze! Jesus, how long has it been since you got laid?" he demanded, laughing weakly as he grabbed my shoulders and held me at arms length. "Look, we don't even know each other, so let's not do this, okay?" I made a small sound of desperation and need, making him blush violently. He stank of lust, reeked of it, and it was driving me mad. 

If he wanted me so much, why wouldn't he let me take him? 

"Roze, just listen to me for a second-" he said as I forced my way closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. I was so much shorter than him that I needed to haul myself up by my arms and wrap my legs around his waist to reach his neck. My skirt bunched up around my hips, baring my thighs as I leaned in close to him breathing deeply, inhaling his smell, able to see the pulse pounding in his throat. 

Moaning softly, I leaned in closer and opened my mouth, exposing my fangs. Just one little bite...it won't even hurt....he'll be in so much pleasure, he'll barely notice, he won't care...

"Oh, my God..." Zech whispered. "Oh, my God, what am I doing...." Then, suddenly, he bore me forward, down onto the couch. With a soft sigh of defeat, he gently brushed my hair out of my face and leaned down. 

His mouth pressed against mine, so sweetly and gently, it broke my heart to think I had been about to kill him. 

VII

Zech

She tasted like strawberries. 

My heart pounding in my chest, I kissed her as gently as I knew how, pulling away before long to look down at her. A moment ago, her brilliant amber eyes had been burning with a white hot need, a desperation that I didn't quite understand, but had been driving me nuts. I wanted to forget every reason I'd ever had for not getting involved, to just for one night do what my instincts were howling for, just this once, just this once! 

But when I pulled away, I saw that her eyes were full of tears, and her face was full of shame. 

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry-" I said, instantly getting off of her. "I thought-I thought you wanted...." I stammered into silence. 

"No..." she whispered. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have...I....oh, God. I'm so sorry." She sat up and covered her face, starting to cry. I sat there for a moment, bewildered. I didn't understand why she was so upset. It was just a kiss, nothing too terrible. I awkwardly tried to comfort her, patting her lightly on the back and mumbling apologies. 

"I, um. Roze, I really don't understand why...you're crying," I said after fifteen or twenty minutes of tears. 

"I c-c-can't t-tell yoooooooooouuuuuuuu.." she sobbed into her hands. "You're a Hu-Hu-Hunterrrr..." 

"What does that have to do with anything?" I sputtered, confused. She let out a small wail of miser and kept crying. I sighed. "Roze.." I pulled her off the couch and into my arms, holding her, trying to comfort her. After a moment, she pushed me away, nose wrinkled up and still crying a bit. 

"You stink like blood," she mumbled. "It's bothering me...would you mind...showering and changing your clothes?" 

"Huh?" I blinked as she stood suddenly and turned to walk into her bedroom. She moved very quickly, just fast enough to make my skin prickle. 

It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. 

She was soft. Warm. Whole. She cried. She vomited for Pete's sake. She walked under the sun. She...she couldn't be...

Was Roze....a Vampire? 

VIII

Roze

I stood in my bedroom, breathing deeply of air that did not smell of blood or lust, or that sweet scent of Zech's. 

Relax, I ordered myself. Get Zech fresh clothes and start up the shower. Act human. Control yourself. You've done it for years; you can't screw it up now. You're not like Bryar, no matter how much he wants you to be. You're strong, you can do this. Relax. 

With a sigh, I dug around in my drawers, noticing Zech had organized everything except my underwear drawer for some reason. After a minute, I found a big, baggy pair of sweat pants and a grey T-shirt that I thought might fit Zech, at least temporarily. After laying them out on the bed, I went into my bathroom and turned on my shower, letting the water warm up. I went back out into the bedroom to pick up the clothes I'd laid out. When I turned to go back out into the main room, Zech was standing in the doorway watching me. At the sight of him, my heart nearly stopped, but I managed to keep calm. There was no reason for him to be suspicious of me. 

"I think these will fit you after you shower and I wash your clothes," I told him, moving closer to him and holding the clothes out to him. "You may have to go commando for a bit, but it'd be better to just have everything clean, right?" An odd look on his face, he said nothing, just watched me. "Zech? Are you okay?" 

"Roze...what are you?" he asked softly, stepping closer and pulling a gun out of his pocket. The clothes fell from my numb fingers as I took a startled step back. 

"Oh, my God. What are you doing?" I whispered, eyes wide as he pointed the gun at me. 

"You're not human. But you're unlike any Vampire I've ever seen," he said in a soft, deadly voice that made me cold inside. God, this was my nightmare come to life: a Hunter bearing down on me, the gun pointed right at my heart, Death itself staring me down....Oh, God. I was going to die. 

I backed into the wall as he came closer, close enough that the gun was pressing against my left breast, the cold metal sharp through my shirt. 

"Roze. What. Are. You," he asked, leaning down so his face was close to mine. Ridiculously, I thought, dear God, I'm going to die a virgin...Bryar would laugh herself sick if she knew. "Answer me, Roze," Zech said softly, smelling of anger, blood, and very faintly of that sweet chocolate scent. 

"I...I'm a girl. A mortal girl," I gasped, staring up at his soft brown eyes which were not at all soft right now. The sweet smell got stronger, and my heart started beating faster. The gun dropped a little. "Here," I said, taking his left hand and laying it over my heart. "Feel." He was silent for a moment. 

"You have a heartbeat," he sighed, relief in his face. "Thank God." I laughed weakly, knowing that I had come far too close to being killed. My heart slowed down to a normal rate as I calmed back down. But when I noticed that Zech's hand was still resting above my heart on the curve of my breast, my breathing and heart rate kicked up a notch again. 

Zech watched my face for a moment, dropping his gun back in his pocket to lean against the wall with his forearm above my head. He bent down so that his face was really close to mine again. His sweet scent flooded my senses, and my body howled for his blood. I longed to let him lean in close, then strike, to bite deep, to drink my fill. 

But as his soft brown eyes stared into mine, I couldn't do it.

I wouldn't do it. 

He leaned down to kiss me again, but I turned my face away, saying, "I'm sorry. I just....can't. I just can't." 

IX 

Zech

She wouldn't look at me, fear and shame in her amber eyes. She turned her face away, quivering. Sighing, I took a step back. 

It wasn't the first time I'd been rejected. It certainly hadn't been the most embarrassing of the rejections I'd experienced. But then why did it seem to hurt so much? After all, I knew practically nothing about Roze. I had also accused her of being a Vampire and put a gun to her heart. I didn't really blame her if she thought I was a psycho.  

"I...I'm sorry," I said finally. She nodded, then moved around me to scoop up the sweats and T-shirt she'd dropped, holding them out to me. 

"I can understand. In your line of work...sometimes, I suppose, the paranoia gets to you. And sometimes, that saves your life," she said softly as I took the clothes. I nodded sharply, then went into the bathroom to shower and change. The shirt was a little tight and a little short, and the sweats were like shorts, but I stripped and showered and changed anyway. She had strawberry shampoo, I noticed, and a bright pink razor. I washed my hair and skin with her cranberry-scented soap, and then rinsed off, hopped out, and changed into the borrowed clothes. I could see her mouth twitching at the corners as I handed her my dirty clothes, but then she turned a little pale when she saw how many weapons I'd been casually toting around. 

While she went to go use the apartment building's laundry room, I helped myself to cold pizza and a can of coke from her fridge. I flicked through the TV stations, cursing the people who made is so there was nothing good on TV in the evening except news. 

It was nearing eight o'clock when Roze came back with my clothes, which were still hot from the dryer. 

"Thanks," I said, accepting the clean garments from her gratefully. She nodded before sitting on the couch, curling up as she determinedly stared at the television screen, which was on a cooking show of some kind. Quietly, I padded into her bedroom and took off the sweats and T-shirt, thankfully pulling on my own clothes. When I came back out, she was snoozing gently, her head dipping a bit before jerking back up again. 

"Roze?" I carefully touched her shoulder to draw her attention. Blinking up at me, she rubbed at her eyes. 

"Yes? Are your clothes still damp?" she mumbled, yawning. 

"No, no," I reassured her. "No, just considering that it's starting to get late, I'm gonna get going home." 

"Oh...do you need a ride? How far away do you live?" she yawned, slowly pushing herself to her feet. 

"Thirty-first and Elm," I said. "I'll be okay, I'll just get a cab." Instantly she flopped back down onto the couch. I grinned at her obvious exhaustion. I supposed that the ridiculous amount of puking, having a sudden attack of lust, half an hour of crying, then being accused of being a Vampire and nearly being shot could tire a person out. 

"Hey, Roze..." I said quietly after finishing my call to summon a cab. 

"Mmmm?" she said without opening her eyes. 

"I'm...sorry for accusing you," I said, toying with my cell phone. "And for pointing a gun at you." She opened her eyes and looked at me, amber irises unreadable. 

"Apology accepted," she said after a moment, pushing herself up again and getting a pen from a jar on one of the shelves crammed with books and knick-knacks. She pulled an address book from a black bag on the coffee table. She offered them out to me. 

"What's this for?" I asked, taking them from her. 

"So I have your number," she said. "In case I ever want to call you. Maybe go to a movie sometime." Slightly speechless, I flipped the book open and scrawled my name and number on a blank page. I noticed that almost every page was blank. The only other name and number in there was of a girl named Bryar. 

"There you go," I said, handing it back to her. Her eyes looked over the number and name, widening slightly. 

"Malachi?" she said softly. "You come from a very old Hunter family." 

"Yeah...it's, ah, caused some problems, that reputation," I sighed, pushing away unpleasant memories of woman with grey-green eyes and a man with black hair, a little baby girl cradled between them. 

"You're cab's here," Roze said suddenly, looking out the window. "Be careful getting home. Lots of monsters out at night." 

"Yeah, I know," I replied, not moving for the door. She watched me look at her for a minute, getting redder by the second. How could I have ever thought her a Vampire? 

"Um...thank you for helping me today," she said, taking a step towards me. 

"No problem." For some reason, I felt nervous, and couldn't stop thinking about that one kiss from ealier, of that sweet strawberry taste of her mouth. Her nostrils flared a bit as her lips parted slightly, her amber eyes staring at me with a mixture of fear, hope, and reason warring with desire. Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward until I was only a few inches away, hoping, praying that she wouldn't turn away again...

She stood up on her toes, a determined look on her face as she closed the distance between us. Firmly kissing me on the mouth, she held it for a moment, a simple kiss that set me on fire inside. My muscles and innards were twitching violently with butterflies when she pulled away, breathless and red. 

I grinned and said, "'Night, Roze," before saluting good-bye and going down to meet my cranky cab driver. 

X

Roze

After Zech left, I sat on the couch for a second and did some thinking. 

Then, I decided that I was crazy. I had spent hours with a Vampire Hunter, offered him food, washed his clothes, nearly been discovered and killed, taken his number, and kissed him twice. And all I could think about were those kisses. 

Yup. Totally insane. 

With a small moan, I leaned back, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. I was so tired. Maybe that was why I was acting so stupidly. At least I hadn't given him my number; that would have been extremely stupid. 

I cracked open one eye and peered at the black address book on the table. Leaning forward, I flipped it open, passing Bryar's number with only a small pause before staring at Zech's number again. 

Malachi? You come from a very old Hunter family. 

I know. It's caused some trouble, that reputation. 

I pursed my lips, eye fixed on the page. In a moment, I'd memorized the dang number. 

Stupid. 

Grumbling to myself, I stumbled to my bathroom. 

"Good grief, he cleaned the whole place," I mumbled, looking at the neatly organized make-up and beauty products that I hardly used. I pulled on the sweats and T-shirt Zech had worn temporarily. They still smelled like him. The alarm clock next to my bed read 9:38 PM when I finally crawled under the covers. I was asleep before I stopped moving to get comfortable. 

It is forty years ago. I look nearly the same, except my hair is several inches shorter, only hanging to the middle of my back. I wear the style popular with the decade, a long, just-below-the-knee length skirt, with a modest blouse, both the color of a velvety midnight sky. I am standing on the balcony of a second story house, leaning on the rail as guests arrive in the driveway. 

"Why are you out here all by yourself? The party's inside, Rozie," a voice says from behind me, a voice as familiar as my own. 

"You know I don't enjoy these parties of yours, Bryar," I say softly, turning to look at her in the soft ligh of twilight. She is stunning as always, with her milk-pale skin, cheery purple eyes, and the flaming twist of her red hair. She wears a white dress, cut scandalously low, and heels just high enough to give men ideas. Her blood red lips are curved into a sultry smirk, eyelashes fluttering as she puts a hand on her hip and fakes surprise. 

"Why, Rozie!" she gasps, putting her finely manicured fingers to her cupid's bow lips. "You should have said something! I'll go down and cancel the whole thign right now if you want." 

I roll my eyes at her. "I have said so. Many times. And we both know you won't. Nobody wants to disappoint your precious guests," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. She grins, showing canines that are just a little too long and sharp to be completely human. 

"Oh, little sister, so negative," she clucks her tongue, waving a finger at me as if I've done something naughty. "Since you won't have me cancel the party, why don't you come join?" 

"You know I don't want to." 

"I have dancing planned this time," she says, dangling it in front of me like a treat. And, I have to admit, that does catch my attention a bit. 

"Real dancing?" I ask sourly. "Not that ridiculous swing stuff that's popular right now?" I peer at her suspiciously as she smiles again. 

"Real dancing," she says, laying a hand over her heart and holding up the other. "Cross my heart." I chew my lip for a second, then sigh. 

"Fine," I say, making Bryar clap excitedly, her fiery curls bouncing around her shoulders. She grabs my wrist and pulls me back inside and I can't help but resist a little. She tugs me down stairs and into the big room that used to be a large sitting room. There, the party is in full swing, a small band pumping out popular songs as the guests dance. Bryar's parties are always a big success, and she glows from all the attention. 

"Well, if it isn't the hostess and her sister themselves!" says a man from behind us, his face a bit pink from dancing and drinking. Now, Bryar and I are only similar in two ways: we are both young, and both female. Only an idiot would take us to be sisters. So the story is that we share only a father, and that we look like our mothers. Most people buy the story. 

"Ah, Mister Charleston!" Bryar exclaims with near-believable pleasure. "So good to see you! We are so pleased you could come. Right, Rozie?" She elbows me and I scowl at her a bit. 

"Yes, of course. Very pleased," I mumble, wishing I had actually stayed up on the balcony. I should have known that Bryar wants to torture me with guest introductions. 

"May I introduce my son, Henry?" Charleston seems to reach out and scoop a young man out of the crowd. Henry's simliarity to his father is obvious, but he is more handsome and much thinner than his father. I find his appearance appealing enough, but Bryar is almost drooling over him. 

"Henry, these lovely ladies are the Del Imperator sisters I was telling you about," Charleston tells his son, almost shoving him towards us. 

"Charmed," Henry says, his eyes glued to Bryar. Rolling my eyes and sighing as the two ogle each other, I excuse myself and escape back to the balcony. 

I know Bryar likes men. She likes to play with them, play with their minds and hearts, play with them in her bed before finally biting them. Usually she kills them, and I end up helping her set up a Opacare to take the fall for her. Then we would move cross-country a few months later, to avoid suspicion. 

Over and over. For always. 

I sigh and suppose that young, handsome Henry would be Bryar's next...meal. 

But I do not ever even dream how horribly wrong this time would end up going. 

XI 

Zech

It sucked to drag myself out of bed at 5 AM the next morning when my alarm went off. 

Maliciously pounding on the snooze button with my fist, I heard the plastic crack a bit from the force of the blow. Groaning, I slid out of bed and nearly crawled to my little kitchen. I dumped ground coffee beans into the coffee maker along with some water. Then I stood and glared at it as it gurgled and hissed while hot coffee slowly dripped into the pot. An eternity later, I poured myself a mug, along with creamer and sugar, guzzling it recklessly enough to burn my tongue. I stared at my empty cup for a second, then poured myself a second helping. 

One hour and six cups of coffee later, I crawled into the shower. The water heater in the building was broken, and the landlord wasn't getting anywhere trying to fix it, so I all but shrieked when the freezing water battered against my skin. I showered at the speed of light and nearly broke my neck in my haste to get away from the sleet coming from my shower head. Shriveled and blue from cold, I yanked on my underpants, jeans and grey T-shirt. Trembling violently, I quickly shoved my feet into socks and boots. While pulling on my long black coat and strapping on my various weapons, I shoved a doughnut into my mouth. 

It was nearly seven o'clock when I headed out the door, locking it behind me and clambering into the ancient, white Ford truck I drove whenever Matt didn't pick me up for work. The monster of a vehicle roared to life and I knew I was going to get crap from the landlord later for waking him and his wife up at this time in the morning. I fiddled with the radio as I pulled out of the driveway. I flipped through the stations, finding nothing but early morning talk shows. Sighing, I halted at a stoplight and popped in a CD. After a second, Avenged Sevenfold started blasting through my speakers. I hastily turned it down; it was too early to be that loud. 

Even though it was only seven-thirty, when I got to the Headquarters of Hunters in this city, most of the regulars were already there. Muttering to myself, I parked my truck in the very back of the parking lot, then jogged into the building. Headquarters is a mixture between an office building, a police station, and a jail. Every Hunter in the city has an office in the building, and some of them even lived there. But considering that the building also temporarily housed captured Vampires before they were destroyed, I didn't want to live there. Plus, the apartments were tiny. I got in the elevator and rode it up to the twelfth floor. I went down to my office, barely glancing at the letters on the door that read: 

Zecharias Malachi

Vampire Hunter

R. 83

I opened the door and stepped inside, jumping when I saw Matt sitting on the edge of my desk and a tall, bald man named Sal sitting behind it. 

"Zech," Sal greeted me solemnly as Matt raised a hand in hello. 

"What are you two doing in here?" I scowled at them as I shut the door behind me. 

I was a Rank 83 in the Hunter Organization (rankings are out of 100, 100 being the best of the best of the best of the best, so 83 is pretty good if I do say so myself) and so I got a pretty roomy office in which I crammed a large desk, four filing cabinets, a side table with a lamp, a comfy desk chair and two guest chairs. 

"Well, what with the out come of yesterday's Hunt..." Sal said quietly, folding his hands over his belly  and leaning back in my chair. "I thought it would be best to talk to the two of you about it." 

"I've told you many times before Sal," I replied in a low voice, balling my hands up into the fists as I saw the Vampire from yesterday sucking on that woman's neck all over again. "Reliving something like that doesn't make it go away. It doesn't help me feel better. So just let it go." Sal sighed, shaking his head. 

"I told you so," Matt said in the tone of a long-suffering martyr that's been overly sacrificed. Sal glowered at him for a minute before getting out of my chair. He left my office, clapping me on the shoulder as he went. After he shut the door, a slow smile spreading across Matt's face. 

"What?" I demanded, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. 

"That girl from yesterday..." he said, grinning widely. "The one you helped home..." 

"What about her?" I asked, a sudden image of Roze flashing in front of my eyes. A ghost of that last kiss she'd given me brushed against my lips along with the faint taste of strawberries. I could feel myself getting slowly redder as he grinned at me. 

"You did her, didn't you?" he demanded, jumping off my desk, laughing at me. 

"What?" I cried. "No!" My face was on fire, and I couldn't believe that Matt would assume something so ridiculous. 

"Oh, please!" he said, waving a hand at me. "You've got that 'I just lost my V-card to a hot girl' look all over your face!" 

"I do not! And who says I've still got that card anyway?" I demanded hotly. 

"The fact that I've known you since you were sixteen and in all that time, that girl was the closest you've gotten to a real date in all that time!" he said triumphantly. "And you told me to wait, then an hour later you tell me to leave!" 

"I was doing her freakin' dishes!" I bellowed, throwing up my arms in disbelief. Matt blinked at me for a second, his mouth hanging open. 

"You're serious," he said, staring. "You did her dishes." 

"Yes! I cleaned her whole apartment!" I cried in exasperation, flopping into my chair, glowering up at him. He continued staring at me, dumbstruck. 

Then, when he regained his voice, he said, "Dude. Are you gay?" 

"What!" I jumped back up to my feet, outraged. 

"Well, Zech, I mean, come on, man! I'm married and the chick was puking in the street for God's sake, and I wanted to take her back to her apartment and do her! You can't say she isn't hot. And totally do-able." When he said that, for some reason, I really wanted to punch him in the face. Hard. Instead, I took a deep breath and ran my hands through my hair. 

"Look, Matt," I said. "I did not sleep with Roze. Yes, I really did clean her apartment. No, I am most certainly not gay. And Matt, don't make me tell Melody what she said. So what if she's cute? And who cares if....if..." I took a deep breath and blurted, "If I'm a virgin?" Matt blinked at me, then busted up laughing. 

"Zech, sometimes, I just can't believe you!" he chuckled, opening my office door and exiting. He was still laughing as he shut the door behind him. I flopped back into my chair, pouting. 

"What the hell does he mean by that?" I mumbled sourly to myself, fiddling with a pencil that had been on my desk. 

XII

Roze

I forgot to turn my alarm on when I went to bed. 

So, when I slowly emerged from my nest of blankets and sheets, it was twelve twenty-seven, four and a half hours after I was supposed to be at work. I stared at the clock for a minute or two, processing the information. Then, with a panicked yelp, I shot out bed, headed for my cell phone, which was in my bag in the living room. 

I had nine missed calls and several text messages, all amounting to, "Why the freaking HELL aren't you at work?" 

"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no, oh, no," I whispered, dropping my phone and sprinting for the bathroom. I tore my hair up into a quick ponytail, yanking on my skirt and blouse while shoving my feet into my shoes. I ran out the door, grabbing my bag and keys, forgetting to lock the door. In too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator, I clattered down the stairs, nearly breaking an ankle on the fourth set. 

When I got to my car, I struggled to push the key into the lock, muttering curses to myself. I finally threw the door open, getting in and jamming the key into ignition. I threw my sedan into reverse, shot out of my parking spot, then shifted into drive, slamming down on the gas. My tires screamed in protest as I sped out of the lot and into the street. 

I tried to drive as calmly and lawfully as I could, but I knew that I looked more like a madwoman taking suicidal risks as I ran red lights and swerved around other cars. But I told myself that I was driving normally and not 40 mph over the speed limit. 

I tore into the parking lot of Manny's Diner, laughing like a hyena as I narrowly avoided running over some overweight middle-aged man. As I screeched to a stop in an empty spot (which was really two I'd parked sideways in), Manny, Jack, and several other waiters and customers were staring at me through the windows. I knew I looked completely insane, but I couldn't wipe the huge grin off my face. 

Hey, I like to go fast. Sue me. 

XIII

Zech

I spent most of the morning pouring over paperwork from yesterday's Hunt, rubbing my forehead and muttering to myself. 

"Hey, Zech," Matt opened my door a bit and stuck his head inside my office. 

"Still mad at you," I said, not looking up from my papers. "So whatever it is, the answer is no." 

"Damn," he said, giving a theatrical sigh of disappointment. "And here I was hoping to buy you lunch, since it's nearly two and you haven't emerged from your office to eat." Scowling, I looked at the clock on my wall. It was, in fact, almost two o'clock, and my empty stomach decided to voice its gurgling opinion on the prospect of food. I eyed Matt, who stood in the doorway, smiling smugly. He already knew I'd never refuse a free lunch. 

"Fine," I growled. "But I get to order whatever I want!" Chuckling, he held the door open for me as I snatched up my wallet, keys, and coat. 

"Do you go anywhere without that thing?" Matt asked as I shrugged it on. 

"Nope," I said shortly. "It's good protection against Vampires. And human thugs." 

He snorted, "We're going to lunch, not Hunting." 

"Still," I insisted as we left my office and headed for the elevator. "You never know." 

We took my truck, and I drove as Matt gave me direction to a dinky little diner his cousin owned. Manny's Diner was a little place, clean and simple, screaming of a family business passed down for generations. The food was excellent, and I was in the middle of one of the most perfectly cooked steaks I have ever eaten when a beat-up, primer grey sedan screamed into the parking lot like Vampires were chasing it. 

Everyone in the diner noticed when it did, and several people, including some of the staff, stared openly out the window. 

"Oh, thank God," I heard our server, a blonde young man named Jack, breathed, his stiff posture relaxing a bit. I glanced at him curiously for a second, then looked back outside, suddenly grateful for our window-side booth. 

Then, out of the trashy little car, stepped Roze. 

I stared even more, my mouth falling open in surprise. Her long black hair was up in a very messy ponytail, an almost "I just finished making wild monkey love to a guy I don't even know" look, accented by a slightly wrinkled white blouse that only had four buttons fastened, all in the wrong places, displaying the flat plane of her belly and the full swells of her breasts above her collar. Her black skirt was slightly crooked and hiked up just enough to get every straight man's attention. She was also wearing those heels that made her legs seem like they went on forever, drawing the eye to her shapely calves and thighs. 

Over all, she looked like a woman that would get you to do things in bed that should come with a medical warning label. Twice, if not more. But, her face had a childish look of glee on it that made it appear as though she would take a fiendish delight in dangling those acts in front of you before snatching them away again. All in all, I knew every male in Manny's Diner suddenly found his pants to be about five sizes too small. 

Including me. Especially me, since I knew what those smiling lips tasted like. 

Matt's head whipped around so he could stare at me instead of Roze, his mouth working silently for a second before he found his voice again. 

"That's...that's...isn't it?" he spluttered, clutching his water glass so hard it was close to shattering. 

"Yeah..." was all I could say, still ogling Roze shamelessly as she started walking towards the diner. Had her hips had that mesmerizing sway to them last night? 

"You liar!" Matt hissed, leaning forward onto the table, his face accusing. "How could you help a woman like that back to her apartment and not do anything with her? I mean, holy high Hunter, Zech, look at her!" 

"Shut up, Matt!" I snapped, shaking my head furiously and trying not to go back to staring as Roze entered the diner. I turned to Jack the waiter and said, "Can I get a glass of cold water, please?" 

There was a look of cold fury and appalled shock on his face that made me blink in surprise. But in that blink, the look was gone.

"Of course, sir," he said in a voice that sounded just a little too calm and polite. I stared after the waiter for a second, chills running down my spine. 

That look on his face when he had stared down at me spoke of murder. 

XIV

Roze

Oddly, when I entered the diner, I found the place almost completely silent; everyone's attention was focused on me. Women stared with something akin to anger and shock, while men watched me with wide eyes and open mouths. 

"Roze!" Manny furiously beckoned me from the kitchen, shock on his round face, mixed with relief. I hurried over to him as noise slowly returned to the diner. 

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I forgot my alarm-" I began, but he waved my excuse away. 

"Never mind that, thank goodness you're alright. We all thought you were dead," he told me, mopping at his face with an already damp cloth. 

"Why would you think that?" I demanded, bewildered. 

"Well, with those Vampire attacks right across the street from your apartment, and them not releasing the names of the victims, bless their souls...and when you didn't show up this morning..." he shook his head, then blinked at me as if seeing me for the first time. "Dear God, girl, what happened to you?" 

"What?"

"You look like...like you just had an extremely kinky quickie in the back of your car!" he spluttered. 

"Well, I left in a bit of a hurry," I said defensively, quickly trying to fix my buttons and hair. 

"Obviously," Manny smirked. "So why were you late? Six years you've worked here, and you've never been late!" 

"Ummm...I forgot to set my alarm," I said, wishing I could escape to face the angry women and staring men. 

"That's not like you," his smirk grew bigger. "What happened? You meet a man?" 

"What! No, I-!" My face started to burn as the scent of Zech drifted around me, overwhelming my senses. Manny's smirk became a grin. 

"Come on, Roze. Lying doesn't fly with me," he laughed, throwing an arm around me in a half-hug. 

"Well, I did meet... someone...yesterday..." I admitted slowly, blushing furiously. Manny had a thirst for gossip stronger than a starved Nocte had for blood. 

"A name, Roze, what was his name?" Manny demanded. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear this. You've never been on a date the entire time I've known you!" 

"Oh, well, uh, his name...well, it's Zech Malachi," I told him in a embarrassed whisper, noticing that Katie, the cashier, was craning her neck in an effort to eavesdrop on us. 

Manny blinked at me, surprised. "You're kidding." 

"No...why?" I asked, a little nervous about his reaction. "Do you know him?" 

"Do I know him? Roze, he's my baby cousin Matt's Hunting partner! And they're here right now!" Manny cried, nodding over to booth number nine. 

And sure enough, when I looked over, a young man in a long dark coat with red and black hair was sitting there, watching me. 

I blushed violently again as my eyes locked with his. I quickly looked away, butterflies making my stomach twitch and jump. 

"What is he doing here?" I whispered, almost to myself. 

"Having lunch," Manny answered obviously. "Look, Roze, why don't you take today off and work Saturday instead? Your shift would almost be over by now anyway." 

"Huh? Oh...okay," I agreed without much thought, sneaking another look at Zech. He raised a hand and waved a little, scowling when his friend laughed at him. Manny cruelly shooed me out of the relative safety of the kitchen, leaving me to the mercy of Zech's eyes and the faint scent of his sugary-sweet smell. 

Zech said something to his partner before getting up and walking over to stand in front of me. He said nothing for a moment, watching my face. Then he smiled a little and said two words that turned the butterflies in my stomach to huge, flapping pterodactyls. 

"Hey, Roze." 

XV 

Zech

She looked up at me for a moment, apparently speechless, a faint blush in her cheeks. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and disbelief. She'd straightened up a bit, and no longer looked like she'd done some really intense necking in a back alley, and I wanted to smack myself for my irrationally calm greeting. 

Finally, she responded to my too-casual hello. "Oh, um, hi, Zech," she stammered out, flushing a little more. 

And that was it. We stood there in the middle of Manny's Diner for a few minutes in an increasingly awkward silence. Then, I finally plucked up my courage and spoke. 

"Well, uh, I was thinking, if you're not doing anything tonight, maybe you'd like to go see a movie with me?" 

"Oh!" she blushed again, surprise and pleasure appearing on her face. "I-well, I'm not sure if-oh, sure, I'd love to." 

"Great!" I said, a sudden sense of relief flooding through me. "So, I'll, uh, pick you up tonight at around, um, seven? Ish?" 

"That's fine, that's perfect!" she babbled, her amber eyes glowing. "I can't wait." 

"Me neither," I said, unable to keep a big, goofy grin off my face. 

"Hey, Zech," Matt appeared beside me. "I've paid for lunch. And it's past three. We need to be getting back. Nice to see you again, Ms. Roze." He nodded towards Roze as he gently started tugging me away. 

Roze followed us out to the truck, where I sternly shook off Matt. "Well, um, I'll be seeing you tonight," I said awkwardly, wondering if I should hug her or pat her shoulder, or what. 

"Absolutely," she said, smiling up at me. We stood there for a second, both making half-attempts to touch or somehow make contact with the other. Finally, we shook hands, and I jumped into the truck. While rumbling out of the parking lot, Matt started howling in triumph. 

"Dude, you've got a date!" he yelled, laughing. "I can't believe this!" 

"Shut up, Matt," I snapped, nerves already starting to make me twitch. We drove along in silence for a moment as I thought about the details. 

What movie should I take her to? Should we go to dinner before or after? Should we go to dinner at all? Should we go to her place afterwards, or mine? Should I even be thinking about making a move like that? 

"Aw, hell, Matt," I moaned. "A date. What should I even wear?" Matt turned in the passenger seat to stare at me for a second. 

And then he started laughing. 

"I never should have said anything," I grumbled as he continued to convulse in the seat next to me. 

XVI

Roze

After Zech drove away, I got in my own car and also went him, thinking as I drove. 

My God. A date. A date. With a Hunter. I couldn't believe it. How big of an idiot was I? As soon as Zech showed even the smallest of interests in me, I should have been running the other way. 

But...I couldn't run. Something about him pulled me in, kept me from escaping. I wondered what it was. Was it was because he was a Hunter, and therefore forbidden? Or had I finally just snapped like Bryar had when she'd met Henry so many years ago. 

There is blood everywhere. It's on the walls, the floor, the bed, on her body, gushing from her wounds, from the punctures in her beautiful form. She lies on the bed, staring up at her lover, at Henry, forgiveness and understanding in her face as he raises the knife to plunge it into her heart, to kill her. 

"Bryar!" I scream from the doorway. Henry jerks and turns to face me. I fly at him and shove him away from my sister, my only sister, the only one who has ever come close to loving me...

The force of the push sends him catapulting back into the bedroom wall. His skull cracks loudly against the stone, and he falls in a heap to the floor. 

I rush to Bryar, who looks up at me blearily and says, "Roze...where is my Henry? He was here, he was here, just a moment ago...I wanted to tell him something...I wanted to tell him....that even though I'm a Vampire...even though I am forbidden to do so...I love him. Will you tell him for me, Roze? Tell Henry that I love him?" 

I jerked the wheel as my car started to drift towards oncoming traffic. I blinked away the memory and the tears in my eyes. 

I had killed Bryar's Henry, and I knew that she had never forgiven me for it. 

And after that day, I had cut myself off from love, completely and totally. 

But here I was, going on a date with Zech, a Hunter. I'd have been better off with Jack. At least he didn't have the right to kill me on the spot for being a Sol Altus. 

When I got home, I fought with my keys before remembering that I hadn't locked the door when I'd left earlier. I wondered what I was going to wear to my date as I walked into the living room. I halted in my tracks as the door swung open, shock and fear shooting into my veins like icy needles. 

There was someone sitting on my couch. 

XVII

Roze

"Hello, Roze," the person on my couch said softly. "You left your door unlocked. Very unwise of you." The person was beautiful. She had tumbling, fiery curls and pale skin, wearing a purple, Chinese-esque dress with a black clutch in her lap. She had vibrant purple eyes and deep red lips parted in a perfect smile. The dress was barely decent, leaving most of long, pale legs bare to match her arms and throat. 

"Hello, Bryar," I said, my mouth as dry as parchment. "What the hell are you doing here?" 

"Now, is that any way to greet your sister when you haven't seen her in almost thirty years?" Bryar tsked, smiling coyly at me. I snorted. 

"Sister....Yeah, I suppose you might still be able to get away with that, Bryar." I shook my head in disbelief. "Now, I'll ask you again. What the hell are you doing here?" Bryar sighed and leaned back into my couch, looking me up and down, her purple eyes searching. 

"Look at you, Rozie," she said, still observing me. "You look exactly the same as always, and yet...there's something different about you." 

"I cut my hair," I told her sarcastically. "Look, Bryar, either tell me what you want or get out of my apartment." She grinned at me childishly, bouncing up off the couch to move at inhuman speed so that she was standing right in front of me. 

"Don't be so hostile, Rozie. I'm simply saying there's something odd about you..." she leaned in closer and breathed in deep, smelling me. "What's that sweet scent on you, little sister? It's making my mouth water. I know it's not you, you smell the same as the last time I saw you, but there's something...something I can almost taste..." My mouth was dry with fear, and my heart was thudding just a little too fast in my chest. 

She could smell Zech on me. 

"It's nothing, Bryar, just a new perfume I've been trying out," I said, trying very hard to sound convincing. HEr purple eyes glowered into mine as she put her perfectly manicured hands on her hips. I looked away guiltily and she smiled. 

"You're lying to me, Rozie..." she purred, reaching out to draw one painted nail down my cheek. "And you know I hate it when you lie to me." On the last three words, her face and voice grew cold and hard as her nail bit into the skin of my cheek, drawing blood. Anger pulsed in my gut, and I abruptly slapped her hand away, glaring at her. 

"Stop it, Bryar. I'm not some newly Turned that you can bully about any more," I snapped. "Now get out of my home!" My tone shocked her into silence; I had never stood up to her like that, not ever. 

"You are different," she said quietly, moving back away from me a little. "And I can't help but wonder why. What has changed you, in the past few decades?" 

"It's none of your business," I snapped at her again. "Why are you here! You know we're more noticeable together." I scowled at her, and she smiled brightly. 

"Oh, don't worry, Rozie. I'm not here to stay," she laughed. "Actually, I came to warn you." 

"Warn me?" I said sharply. "Warn me about what?" 

"Father is in town. He's looking for you," she told me nonchalantly. "He'll be here as soon as the sun is weak enough for him to travel under a cloak." I felt the blood drain from my face, dread rushing into my stomach to form a cold, hard, knot. 

"Our...Father?" I whispered, swaying a little on my feet a little. 

"Dominius Imperatrix himself," Bryar replied, picking at a cuticle absently. "And I have to say, Rozie, he's not happy with you, not happy at all. You don't even bother to keep in touch anymore. And then there's this business with you acting like food and all. I mean, how long has it been since you actually tasted of the blood?" 

"Not since...the first night," I whispered, leaning back against the door. "My first taste. My only taste." I squeezed my eyes shut, terror and panic starting to pound on my control. 

I remember that day, nearly ninety years ago, the cold warehouse floor smooth under my bare feet, the chilly breeze teasing my dark hair. 

All my senses are sharper, especially smell. I had been blind before, but now I can see everything, even in pitch darkness. I can see the girl with flaming hair and the tall man in the dark cape next to her, with the unconscious young man at his feet. I can hear the young man and the girl's heartbeats and breathing. There is no heartbeat from the man in the cape. I can smell all of them, so strongly it makes me dizzy. 

The girl smells of perfume and makeup, but there are also the scents of blood and a tangy smell I identify as her excitement. The young man smells of fear and confusion and a sour scent I name fear. 

And the man in the cape stinks of hunger, blood lust, and rage. He reeks of death and slow decay put off by gluttonous amounts of blood. 

I fear him, fear that he will bite me again, start that horrible pain again. I touch my throat gently, feeling the sticky wetness around the ragged punctures wounds in my neck. I can also feel an unfamiliar burning my throat, a fiery thirst unlike any I've ever known. I need to quench it, I need to, it hurts, I want it to stop. 

"Are you thirsty?" the red head asks, a strange look on her face, a mixture of hunger and anticipation. 

"Yes," I whisper, holding my hand against the burning in my throat. 

"Here," the man says, kicking the young man towards me. "Drink." I blink at him, confused and still frightened. 

"Bite him," the girl hisses, taking an eager step forward. "Bite him!" 

Uncertain, I kneel beside the unconscious young man, thirst burning in my throat. His scent makes my mouth water, and my body urges me on as I bend to press my mouth to his neck. Then, acting on instinct, I open my lips and viciously bite down on his throat with my new fangs. 

Hot, sweet, delicious blood flows into my mouth, down my throat, soothing the thirst. I shall never forget this taste, shall revel in it, worship it, lust after it for always...

And then he starts screaming. 

He sounds just as terrified as I had when the man had been biting me, if not more so. Horrified, I jerk away, leaving him twitching and crying as blood spurts from the wounds I made. I scramble back away from him, one hand clapped over my bloody mouth. I want to vomit. Bile rises up in my throat, and I heave violently onto the concrete, blood and half-digested food from my last human meal spewing everywhere. 

One hand over my mouth again, tears running from my eyes, I look at my Sire, my Father, and the redhead, and smell a cold, bitter scent coming from them. 

Disappointment. 

My stomach revolted and I fought to keep my last few meals down as the memory surged and receded. 

"You're kidding me," Bryar said, staring at me in disbelief. "Only that once? What the hell, Rozie. You're an even bigger failure than we thought you were!" 

"Shut up," I whispered, but she didn't hear me. 

"I mean, that's just wrong, Rozie. You're a Vampire, for Pete's sake, whether you like it or not!" 

"Shut up!" I screeched, my hand reaching up to grab Bryar by her shoulder, using my other to open my door back up again. I yanked viciously on her joint, feeling it pop and crunch a bit under my fingers and I flung her out into the hallway. "Get out!" I screamed at her before slamming the door and locking it securely. With a dislocated shoulder, Bryar would be unable to break it down in order to get to me. Besides, I knew her. She wouldn't risk fighting me if Father was after me. 

I sank to the floor, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. "God," I breathed, slumping forward. I stayed that way for a long time, crying for a while before falling into semi-unconsciousness, too many emotions to count running through me. 

When I looked up again, hours later, my living room window was open, the screen carefully cut, and another, scarier star of my past was casually reclining on my couch. 

XVIII

Zech

I spent the rest of my work day being poked fun at by Matt and all the people he'd told (everybody whose number was in his cell phone, and all the people in their cell phones) for having an actual date with a real live girl. 

"I don't see why this is such a big deal!" I yelled as another group of people burst into laughter at my appearance in the break room. 

Feeling extremely abused and the butt of far too many jokes, I stormed out of work and got home at five thirty. I tried to spend the extra time watching TV, but found that I was too nervous about my impending date to focus on any show or program. 

I ended up digging through my dresser and closet, trying to find something suitable and casual to wear. I discarded shirt after shirt along with pair after pair of pants. Most were too fancy or too beat up, or just not quite right. 

Feeling ridiculous, I stood in my room surrounded by clothes. I was thankful Matt was not there to bear witness and thus tell the world that I was sincerely unsure of what to wear to my first date in several years. Sighing, at six-forty, I finally decided on a pair of sort-of-new-looking slacks, and a button-up, dark blue shirt. 

I was nearly finished getting dressed when my cell phone rang. Muttering, I grabbed it and checked to see who it was. 

Unknown Caller

Debating whether or not just to ignore it, I finally answered it. 

"Hello?" I said into the phone. 

"Zech? Oh, thank God. Listen, you've got to help me-" said a familiar voice on the other end of the line. 

"Roze?" I blinked in surprise. There was a splintering thud and Roze cried out in fear. 

"Zech, I'm so sorry, so sorry, I lied to you, but I need your help-" she gasped as another thud sounded in the background. "Oh, God, he's breaking down the effing door-!" 

"Roze, what's going on?" I demanded, clutching my phone so hard it creaked in my hand. 

"Please, Zech, help!" I heard her scream as the sound of splintering wood filled the background. 

"Roze!" 

XIX

Roze

The man on my couch was very tall and very thin, with deeply sunken, yellowed eyes that watched me with an ancient intelligence. His hollow cheeks were dimpled slightly by the small smile on his thin, dry lips. He wore a ruffled white shirt and black trousers, a long black cape thrown around his shoulders and black boots encasing his feet in the fashion of centuries past. His large, pale hands were folded over his flat belly, as he leaned back into the couch cushions with his legs crossed. He wore an expression of cold amusement, his smile stretching into a grin as I watched. Pale fangs poked past his lower lip from among his yellow human teeth. His skin was dry and flaking with death, and there was an angry burn on the back of his left hand. He stank of death, blood, and madness, mixed with the unpleasant reek of slow decay. 

"Bryar tells me you were a most ungracious hostess when she visited you this afternoon," drawled the Nocte lounging in my living room. "You dislocated her shoulder when you threw her out, you know." I couldn't move, I couldn't even speak. I was frozen, sitting curled up on the floor with my back to the door. I couldn't believe he was actually here. 

Dominius Imperatrix. My Vampiric Sire. The one that had Turned me, made me immortal, save for injuries beyond extreme, and given me a thirst for blood that both frightened and disgusted me. He was one of the oldest Noctes on the planet. He was strong, fast, and smarter than any human genius on earth. 

And above all, he was a merciless killer. If he wanted, he could kill me right now. 

I tried to ask him why he'd come after me, but all that came out was a squeak of fear. Dominius terrified me. It was why I had started moving cross-country every six years or so, to avoid him. 

And yet he had found me. 

"Not even an apology for injuring your sister so?" Dominius shook his head in disappointment. His brittle, colorless hair was tied back in a ponytail at the base of his neck with a blood red ribbon. "You always were such a wild, violent child, even after all we did for you," he said, sighing. "I have spent many years searching for the two of you. What's it been, fifty years? Sixty? Time flies when you don't have to worry about running out of it." He smiled, bits of dead skin peeling back from his lips. He leaned forward towards me, leering, and I pressed myself back against the door, unable to keep from whimpering. He laughed, a cold, hard sound that chilled me to the bone. 

"Still so skittish. Wild like an animal," he said softly. "Come, my pet, my wild Roze. Come quietly, and I won't punish you too badly." Fear froze my breath in my chest as he rose to his feet and stood over me. 

And then I thought of Zech, probably home by now, getting ready for our date. I remembered that sweet scent that had overcome my defenses so easily. 

And I wanted to see him again. 

So as I stared up into the yellowed eyes of my Sire, a hard knot of resolve formed in the pit of my stomach. 

I would not let him take me. 

As he reached down for me, I suddenly exploded with movement, launching myself for my bedroom without even getting off the floor. I sprinted at a nearly horizontal angle, moving faster than I had in many decades. As a Sol Altus, I had superior strength and speed to humans and most Vampires. But not to my Sire. 

However, I had surprised him with my sudden bolting, so I made it to my bathroom and locked the door behind me in less than a second. Literally. Then, with desperate fingers, I pulled out my cell phone and punched in a number that I was now thanking God that I had memorized the night before. 

As it started to ring, I heard my Sire outside the bathroom. 

"Roze...come out of there right now. Do not make me punish you," he snarled, rattling the locked handle. Crouching next to the toilet, I tried to ignore him as the phone continued to ring. 

"Come on, come on, pick up!" I whispered, desperately. Then, the phone clicked, and a sweet familiar voice answered. 

"Hello?" 

"Zech? Oh, thank God. Listen, you've got to help me-" I flinched as my Sire started slamming into the door, trying to break it. 

"Roze?" Zech sounded surprised, and instantly concerned. Dominius hit the door again, hard, and it splintered a little under the blow. I cried out when that happened, almost incoherent with terror. Honestly, I was shocked the wood was holding out at all. 

"Zech, I'm so sorry, so sorry, I lied to you, but I need your help-" I gasped as my Sire's fist punched through the door, sending splinters of wood flying. "Oh, God, he's breaking down the door-!" Dominius reached through the hole and clawed at me, but I shrank back away from him as Zech's voice sounded in my ear. 

"Roze, what's going on?" he demanded as my Sire's arm vanished. Then, the door exploded inward as he kicked it down. I screamed as he entered the room. 

"Please, Zech, help me!" I shrieked as Dominius entered my bathroom and stared me down, fury in his dead eyes. He lunged forward to grab me by my hair, hissing like an infuriated cat. I dropped my phone. 

XX

Zech

I could hear Roze screaming, the crash of breaking bottles. There was a sickening shattering noise, and a wail of pain that ended suddenly. Then, I heard cold, soft laughter, and a dead, cruel voice hissing, "Oh, my wild Roze. You should not have fought me." The sound of crunching glass, and then dial tone buzzed loudly in my ear. I pulled my phone away from my head and stared blankly at it. 

Contact Lost. 

Something cold and merciless started squeezing my heart, and I couldn't breathe. 

"Roze..." I whispered. For a second, I just stood there, staring at my phone. Then, years of Hunter training kicked in, and I punched in Matt's number in a panic. It rang twice and he picked up. 

"Please tell me you're not backing out of your date," was the first thing out of his mouth. 

"Shut up, Matt!" I snarled, tearing around my already trashed room as I gathered as many as my weapons as I could find. "Roze just called me. She just got grabbed by a Vampire." 

"What!" I heard something thud to the ground. "Zech, man, you have the worst luck with girls, ever. I'll alert Sal and meet you at her apartment." We hung up without saying good-bye and I finished strapping on guns and knives and other such toys and ran out the door to stomp my truck into life. 

Slapping my magnetic cop light on the roof, I peeled out of the driveway-something else for my landlord to complain about later-and shot down the street. 

When I got to Roze's apartment, it was full dark. I rushed into the elevator and repeatedly jabbed at the number nine. 

"Come on, come on, come on," I muttered as the ancient thing slowly made its way up to the ninth floor. The doors opened to a seemingly normal hallway. I sprinted down to Roze's apartment and tried the knob. It was unlocked. In the living room and kitchen, everything seemed okay. But I noticed Roze's purse was on the floor to my right, spilling its contents everywhere. There was also the faint smell of dead things, and a hint of blood. Her living room window was wide open, the screen tore right across. I went into the bedroom. 

The door to her bathroom lay in splinters, and there were pieces of a broken mirror, too, scattered over the floor. 

Oh, God, please, please, please...

I slowly walked towards the bathroom, hoping, praying, that I wouldn't find Roze's ravaged body there. 

The bathroom was a wreck. There were broken bottles and canisters everywhere. The mirror was shattered and smeared with blood. There was more blood on the walls, the floor, speckled on everything. The shower curtain was torn and the sink was broken and the faucet was spewing water straight into the air, creating a little rainbow over it all. Numbly, I reached out and touched a dot of Roze's blood on the wall. It was still wet. 

I'd missed them by minutes, if not seconds. 

Oh, God. 

When Matt got there, he found me sitting on the edge of her bed, head in my hands. 

"Hey," he said softly. "We've got some leads, Zech." 

"I want this thing, Matt," I growled without looking up. "I want to kill it for hurting her, for daring to take her away." I looked up finally, and Matt took a startled step back because of the look on my face. 

"We'll get it, Zech," he said after a moment. "I promise. We'll get the thing that took her. Now come on. It's time for a Hunt." 

There was knot in my gut that burned with a white-hot rage that I was sure showed on my face, because as I got up and left Roze's apartment, Matt moved to the side and watched me leave with a look on his face I'd never seen before. 

Fear. 

XXI

Roze

So cold. 

So dark. 

Where...? 

I couldn't see anything. He'd blindfolded me. There was a wad of cloth in my mouth. He'd gagged me, too. My arms were numb from the shoulders up, and my hands felt like gloves stuffed with too much blood and meat. There was pressure around my wrists I could faintly feel from where they suspended from above my head, which was tilted back. My feet weren't touching the ground. He'd tied me up and hung me from the freaking ceiling. 

Holy hell, what an a*****e! 

No wonder I felt like crap! 

I slowly examined myself blindly, cataloging each pain and ache. Okay, so all the bumps and bruises and cuts and wounds probably contributed to the crappy feeling. But still! 

I took a careful sniff, trying to glean any information I could of my present situation. I smelled my Sire, and Bryar, too. I also smelled two, maybe three dead bodies, and wherever I was stank of blood. The thirst started burning more intensely in my throat, adding to my discomfort. I grumbled through my gag and wiggled a bit, testing my bonds. 

"I wouldn't bother if I were you," came Bryar's soft voice. "It's chain. You can't break them with numb-clumsy hands." I said something impolite into my gag, which came out muffled and garbled. She sighed. "It's no use, Rozie. You'd do better to give up and rejoin us. Don't you miss the old days? The days right after your new birth, when you could run and hunt and be truly free?" I snarled into the gag again, and she laughed. "So stubborn," she sighed. "Well, you'll give in eventually. You'll give in or die." I heard her heels click on the floor as she walked away, her scent faded. Dominius's scent was stale, and soon I could smell nothing but the sour stench of death and the sweet, seductive scent of blood clamoring for my attention. My throat burned, and my stomach growled loudly. I wiggled some more, trying to at least get some blood flow back into my arms. Violent pins and needles rippled over my numb flesh, making me whimper in pain a bit. Gritting my teeth, I wiggled more, starting to swing back and forth, testing the chain. 

Then, a dry, cold hand locked around my ankle, jerking me to a stop. 

"Foolish Roze," whispered the cruel, cooing voice of my Sire. "You cannot escape. Your ankles are chained together. You're hanging by your wrists with more chain that is mounted to an iron beam. You can't swing free of a hook because there is none; the chain is directly attached to the beam. You can't scream, you are gagged. You're blindfolded, too." I could hear the cruel amusement in his voice as he spoke softly, "My dear, sweet, wild Roze...you really should not have fought me." 

And then he sent me flying into a wall. It felt like solid brick and mortar, and white-hot pain exploded in my left side. 

Broken rib...I thought dazedly as I swung back towards Dominius. He grabbed my ankle again, halting my gentle swing. Humming contentedly, he started passing my ankles from hand to hand, savoring my fear as he prepared to hurl me into the wall again. And again. And again. 

And again. 

XXII

Zech

"Okay, so we've had four people-including Roze-go missing in the past twenty-four hours," Matt said to the room at large. There were roughly two dozen Hunters crammed into the meeting room, clustered around the long table in the middle of the room. 

"However, Roze's home was the only to have been trashed," said Sal. "She obviously put up a fight against the thing that took her." 

"From the evidence in her apartment, we've come up with a theory that the perpetrator had a personal bone to pick with Roze," added Matt. "The average Nocte would bolt as soon as she made a phone call for help. This one risked capture and destruction to nab her." 

"The other victims also have a different profile than Roze," said Michael Burner, an R. 76 Hunter. "Lily Trevant, Mitch Howard, and Tom Vasquell were all in their late thirties to early forties, and had gone out alone around dusk on the opposite side of town." 

"Roze Del Imperator, approximately twenty-two years old, was taken from her own apartment at 6:42 PM," provided Anna Demar (R. 79). "Completely different profile from the others." 

"It wasn't stalking her...why did it bother coming after her?" muttered Michael, scratching his head. 

"Like I said, personal bone to pick," Matt shrugs. 

"What Nocte would have an issue with a twenty-two year old human woman?" demanded Sal. "It doesn't make any sense. What do we know about Miss Del Imperator?" 

"Moved here six years ago from Boston. Lived in the same apartment, worked the same job," sighed Anna. "We interviewed her coworkers; she's apparently not not very social outside of work, though well loved by the staff. But she does often have trouble with rude or uncooperative customers." 

"Maybe a new Opacare went after her for revenge for being an unforgiving waitress?" suggested Michael. 

"Highly unlikely," Sal replied, effortlessly shooting down the idea. "Opacare attack at random, usually homeless people on the street, not working girls in their apartments. This was a deliberate, calculated assault and kidnapping. The thing knew her routine, that she lived alone. As soon as the sun had set enough for it to travel under thick cloth and by shadows, it went to her apartment and grabbed her." 

"You said she put up a fight," Luke Ryans (R. 40) said thoughtfully. "And we're reasonably sure the Vamp that took her is probably at least several centuries old, no? How did she fight back against something a thousand times stronger than her?" 

The room was silent for a moment. 

"What does that matter?" I demanded room by myself. That burning knot was still twisting in my gut, and I was sure my frustration would cause me to explode soon. Roze had been snatched hours ago, and  here we were dilly-dallying while she could be dying. Or worse. She could be Turning. The knot clutched painfully at the thought. 

Roze, beautiful, even in death, walking towards me, smiling. Her hair dull and losing its color, her eyes, pale and milky with cataracts. Her skin, pale and rotting, flaking back from her dry lips, exposing the long yellow fangs as she bares her teeth, snarling like a starving animal. Suddenly, she wasn't so beautiful anymore as she lunged for my throat. 

I shook my head angrily, trying to disperse the image from my head. Roze would never do that. Roze wouldn't become like that. If she had been Turned...

I would put the bullet through her heart first, myself. 

"We're wasting time here," I snapped as the assembled Hunters stared at me. "We know it took her and that it took her for a reason. We also know that all the other attacks were on the opposite side of town. So narrow down the area and tear it apart!" They all stared at me like I was crazy. 

"Zech, that's totally impractical," Sal said gently. "If we go in there blindly, it could become a bloodbath. We've got to be cautious-" 

"We don't have time to be cautious!" I screamed, turning to punch the wall so hard that the drywall crumpled. "Every second we waste here, she gets closer to dying, to becoming a Vampire! We have to make a move now!" 

"Control yourself, Zechariah!" Sal snapped suddenly, stress making the lines on his face seem deeper. "The only reason you're on this Investigation-let alone this Hunt-is because you threatened to go solo if I didn't include you. Do not force me to terminate your involvement." I snarled in frustration and stormed from the room. 

I knew Sal was right. I knew I should keep a cool head, proceed with the utmost care. I knew that it would only endanger countless lives if we went in without any idea what we were up against. I knew all that. 

I knew it, but I did not care. 

I got into the elevator and went down to the ground floor,, my head whirling and my stomach twisting. I had to find her. I went out into the parking lot and got into my trunk, bringing it to a roaring life. I sat there for a moment listening to its rumble idle. 

Where to start? 

The other three victims had been taking from an area about four blocks by four blocks, mostly apartments and warehouses. 

There. 

I put the trunk in reverse as Matt emerged from the building, searching for me. I briefly considered leaving him behind. Then I saw he had his gun belt on, along with the tell-tale bulge on his right hip under his jacket that was his special Hunting knife. He jogged over to the trunk and hopped in the passenger side. 

"Zech, you got instincts. I trust you," he said as he strapped himself in. "So I'm going with you. But if I die, Melody is going to come after you with a vengeance." I grinned wolfishly as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards where I hoped I would find Roze alive, and not an Opacare. 

"Let's Hunt," I said to him. 

XXIII

Roze

Pain. 

So much pain. 

Burning agony every time I breathed. Broken ribs? Throbbing ache in my shoulder with every gentle sway of my body. Dislocated joint? Stinging little stabs everywhere, all over my body. Small cuts and bruises, probably. Line of fire along my shin. Fractured tibia? Constant throb in my head, sickening, dizzying. Concussion, maybe? Stiff, uncomfortable pain in my neck. Whiplash, possibly? Acute, sharp aches in my mouth. Broken teeth? And countless other agonizing injuries, everywhere, all over, until my whole body was one solid ache. 

I still hung by my wrists from the ceiling, swaying slightly every time I moved. I was still blindfolded, but they'd removed my gag because I couldn't breathe through my nose. Dominius had broken it in one of the countless times he'd shoved me into the wall. So, I forced a ragged, broken gurgle of air through my gag over and over in order to breathe. 

I'd lost track of how long it had been. Eight hours? Twelve? More? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that Dominius would continue punishing me and Bryar would continue to try and convince me to give in until I joined them again. And maybe I should. It would stop the pain. I wouldn't have to hurt anymore. I wouldn't have to be lonely. I could have a family again. 

"Rozie." I was in so much pain, I couldn't even tell when Bryar came to see me anymore. I couldn't smell anything with my broken nose, and my head hurt too much to focus on hearing. I grunted to tell her I was conscious. She came close enough to place a gentle hand on my ankle. Even that lightest of pressure sent waves of pain through my body. "Please, Rozie," Bryar said pleadingly. "I'm begging you. Please, just give up. Come with us. If you just join us, you won't have to be punished anymore. I'll take care of you, like you took care of me all those years ago. We can be real sisters again. You don't have to hide anymore. Rozie, please. Please come with us." I was silent for a few minutes. I hurt so much. Surely it would be easier to just give in. It hadn't been so bad a life, with Father and my sister. I could go back. I could give in. Let go. I wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. I wouldn't have to deny my bodys its desires just because I was scared. I just had to give up. To let go. I didn't have to be worried about being in trouble. Trouble...

A flash of memory. 

Malachi? You come from a very old Hunter family. 

I know. It's caused some trouble, that reputation. 

Zech. 

Zech. 

Zech!

Concerned eyes, the softest brown. Black hair with a thick streak of red. Careful, gentle hands, rough with working calluses. Strong, confident arms and a well muscled body. Those sweet kisses, his perfect mouth over mine. 

That delicious, wonderful scent of chocolate. 

Zech...

With effort, trying to ignore the screaming pain in my neck, I lifted and turned my head until I faced Bryar. I couldn't see her because of the blindfold, couldn't speak to her because of the gag, but I knew I was looking right at her. I snarled through the wet cloth, spitting blood and saliva at her, agony rippling through me with every second that passed. My sister's hand vanished from my ankle, and I heard her backing away before she turned and ran. When I was sure she was gone, I let my head drop back again, allowing myself to whimper pathetically in pain. 

Oh, Zech. May you never find me. Please, don't Hunt them. If you do, if you come after them for me, Father will kill you. He'll rip you apart, first in spirit and mind, and then in body. Slowly. Painfully. 

I wouldn't let that happen. I would die first. If I die first, Bryar and Dominius would be denied my assistance and then they would move on. Zech would be safe. So, using the very last dregs of my strength, I brought my head up again, heaving against my own weight to press my mouth against the crook of my elbow. Hissing in pain, I pulled my lips back from my teeth, exposing my fangs. It only took a second. I bit through the weak skin over the veins, tearing through the flesh. I barely felt it as blood sprayed from the gaping wound, then started slowly gushing out. Since my arms were above my head, it would take a while-probably hours-before I died. But that was okay. Even if my death was slow and painful, that was okay. As long as it kept Zech safe. 

Funny, how much I'd come to care for a guy I'd met...what...not even two days ago? Ridiculous. Stupid, even. Irrational, too. But weren't emotions always irrational? So many of the romance novels on my shelf at home said so. But a lot of them had the whole "love at first sight" thing in them, too. But I wasn't in love with Zech. I wasn't in love with Zech. 

But that last kiss...

He looks so nervous, so hesitant, leaning down a bit, watching my face for something. An unfamiliar feeling overwhelms me, and without thinking, I stand up on my very tip-toes to press my lips to his testing that sweetness on his mouth. The feel of  his kiss takes my breath away. 

I pushed the memory away. I wasn't in love. I couldn't be in love. I wasn't Bryar. I wouldn't be like Bryar. 

Please, God....keep Zech safe. 

XXIV

Zech

Matt and I had been combing the streets for hours. It was nearing 4 AM, nearly eight hours after Roze had been taken, and still nothing. Matt called his wife every half hour to reassure her, and I didn't blame him or begrudge him the few seconds it took him to tell her he loved her. I hated what I was putting Melody through, but there was nothing to be done. I needed Matt to help me find Roze. 

We prowled the neighborhood-well, I prowled, he just walked-keeping an eye out for any sign of a Nest. Abandoned buildings, evidence of an unreported break-in, blood, even a body. But there was nothing. For the past three or five hours, there had been absolutely nothing, and I was getting close to losing it. 

We started over again, passing a hobo for the third or fourth time. He begged Matt for money, skittering away from my violently venomous glare. We walked up and down every street again and again, examining every building as closely as we could. Most were houses, kind of run-down or beat-up on the exterior. There were also seven warehouses, all in various states of disrepair. Matt and I risked jumping the chain-link fence to get closer to the buildings. I was getting pretty desperate. 

Close to warehouse number six-the one in the best shape-Matt held up a hand for me to stop. 

"Smell that?" he mouthed, and I took a deep breath through my nose, immediately wishing I hadn't. A sour, foul stench assaulted my nostrils, making my eyes water and I nearly gagged. I could smell dead bodies. Several of them. 

Vampires. 

I drew my knife and gun, Matt copying me. We crept along the side of the building until we came upon a door. The chain that held it closed was broken cleanly. Each of us standing on either side of the door, I slowly pushed it open. It didn't make a sound as it glided inward. I went first, gun and knife raised at the ready. We crept into the pitch dark building, listening as hard as we could. This was always the most dangerous part. If we didn't catch them by surprise, the Vampires could sneak up and slaughter us before we even knew they were there. 

"Are you lost?" asked a sweet, feminine voice with no visible source, echoing creepily in the hollow building. Matt and I froze, waiting. The voice came again, echoing off the warehouse walls. 

"Are you lost?" 

Are you lost? 

You lost? 

Lost? 

"Show yourself, Vampire!" Matt ordered, calmly scanning the dark warehouse. 

"Why are you here?" 

Why are you here? 

Are you here? 

You here? 

Here? 

"Show yourself!" I yelled. "Then we'll tell you why we're here!" There was a girlish giggle as the voice spoke again, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. 

"How do I know you won't shoot me, Hunters?" 

Won't shoot me, Hunters? 

Shoot me, Hunters? 

Hunters? 

Matt and I glanced at each other in the dim light streaming from the door, and he nodded. 

"We won't shoot you if you don't attack us," I called. "Truce?" There was silence for a moment. 

"Truce." Then, from the darkness, came a beautiful woman carrying a candle. 

She had long, coppery curls highlighted blonde by the candlelight with wide, impossibly purple eyes. She had a long, straight nose and a full, cupid's bow mouth the color of fresh blood. Her pale, curvy body was sheathed in a floor-length, cream-colored Chinese-esque gown that bared her arms and was split up both side, baring an indecent amount of thigh. Her feet were bare, and her hands cradled a candle in a small, glass bowl. 

"Why are you here?" she asked in a sweet, musical voice. We stared at her for a second. She certainly didn't look like any Vampire I'd ever seen. 

"We're looking for a girl," I said. "Long black hair, about twenty-two." She gave a tinkling laugh. 

"You're a Vampire?" Matt demanded, and she gave him a grin that displayed canines that were just a little too long and sharp to be human. 

"Yes," she said sweetly. "And you are Hunters." 

"Are you responsible for the missing people?" I demanded, taking a step forward. 

"Possibly. Lots of people go missing every day," she tilted her head, as if curious, her nostrils flaring as she stared at me. "You smell...familiar. Have we met before?" 

"You would be dead if we had," I snapped. "We're looking for a girl, about twenty-two years old. Black hair, light brown eyes, Caucasian. She's about five foot four, taken from her apartment around ten to twelve hours ago. Sound familiar?" She smiled brilliantly at me, as if she'd solved a rather difficult puzzle. 

"Ahhh, I knew I would remember a face as handsome as yours, had we met previously," she breathed. "No, you're the scent that was all over her yesterday." She beamed, taking several steps forward. "I wonder, if you smell that good, do you taste just as mouth-watering?" 

"Back off, Vampire," Matt snarled, drawing the hammer back on his gun. 

"So you do have her," I growled. "She'd better be alive and whole, Vampire, or I'll burn you alive before putting a bullet through your chest." She laughed, throwing her head back to reveal the length of her pale throat. 

"Oh, please," she purred. "You act as if you really care about her. How long have you known her? A day? A week? You don't know anything about her." 

"Shut up," I snarled, gripping my knife and gun more tightly. "Tell me where she is, or I swear to God, I'll shoot you right now!" She examined my face for a minute, her eyes growing wider with every second. Her lips parted a bit, as if in shock. Pain and an old, old sadness rippled across her face in heart-breaking agony. 

"Oh, Henry," she whispered, agony in her bell-like voice. She turned to one side in a blur, and then she was gone. Just gone. I heard her cry out, a sound between blinding fury and bittersweet agony as the candle fell to the floor, shattering in its glass bowl. 

"You sure have a way with these things, Zech," Matt sighed as we started creeping further into the building, watching the darkness for any sign of the Vampire. 

"I can't see anything," I muttered. "That red-haired b***h dropped her candle."

"Here," Matt pulled a flashlight out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. 

"Why didn't you use that before?" I hissed, glaring at him. 

"I didn't want to announce our presence," he replied, calm in the face of my temper. "But now that it knows we're here, might as well use it." He shined the light around, exposing the horrors that lay around us. 

The concrete was smeared and speckled with the brown stains of dried blood. Off to our left, four or five bodies lay scattered and deathly-still, their throats ripped out and drained of blood. Our three other victims and two more. I only looked at their ravaged, bloated faces just long enough to confirm that none of them were Roze. Looking around some more, I found that most of the warehouse was bare and empty, with some skeleton shelving, dilapidated stacks of construction materials, and what looked like the hollow shell of an ancient Chevy. Also, on the far side of the room, next to a wall that looked more worn and abused than the others and glittered with bright red splashes of fresh blood, was a frightfully still figure with long black hair hanging from the ceiling by a chain like some kind of perverse cat toy. 

"Roze," I choked, recklessly running towards her. 

XXV

Roze

Tha-thump. 

Tha-thump. 

Tha-thump. 

Every sluggish beat of my heart continued to push blood out of the torn veins in the crook of my elbow. It ran down over my shoulder and back and torso in tiny streams of stinging heat. I hung from the ceiling, blind, unable to smell, dizzy and disoriented from blood loss. And I seemed to be hallucinating on top of everything else, because I could have sword I'd just heard Zech's voice. And then I heard it again. 

Don't be a fool, I scolded myself as my imagination continued to create the illusion of Zech and his friend-Mark? Matt? Matt-having a conversation with Bryar. He can't be here. He just can't.  I tried to block out the voices I was hearing, pretended they didn't exist. I focused on the blood trickling from my self-inflicted wound, thinking, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, as I heard Bryar give a cry of pain and anguish. 

It's not real, it's not real, it can't be real, he isn't here, no one is coming for you-

"Roze!" 

The illusion shattered, and it was real, he was here, he had come for me. 

The fool. 

We were all going to die. 

But even knowing that, I couldn't stop the joy and hope that bloomed in the heart at the sound of his blissfully real voice. 

Then there the was the soft touch of his hands on my ankles and calves. 

"Roze, Roze, say something," he said, touching me just enough so I knew he was there. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a garbled groan through my gag. 

"She's alive," I heard another voice say-Matt-as Zech sighed in relief. 

"How are we going to get her down?" Zech demanded, trying to reach father up my body to get to the chain around my numb wrists. "I can't reach the chain!" 

"Ring around the Rozie..." 

...the Rozie...

...Rozie...

Bryar's voice echoed around the warehouse eerily, bouncing off the walls and ceiling. 

"We have to go before that things come back, Zech!" Matt hissed as Bryar continued to sing. 

"...pocket full of posey..." 

...full of posey...

...of posey...

"Shoot the chain," Zech ordered. "I'll catch her." There was the loud bark of gunfire and the screeching complaint of damaged metal. Then I was falling, right into the safety of Zech's arms. His fingers found my mouth and yanked the gag out from between my teeth, and I choked in a desperate gasp of air, spitting out a few broken teeth and globs of my own blood and saliva. I tried to say his name, but all that came out was an agonized cry as my arms screamed with sudden relief and pain as blood flow returned to my tortured limbs, finally free of the weight of the rest of my body. The worst case of pins and needles in the world tore up and down my arms, making me want to scream but leaving me unable to even whimper. My dislocated shoulder screeched from the fall as my broken ribs also complained as loudly as they could. Every other broken, bruised, and bleeding part of my body joined in, all of my being howling in pain. But even with all that agony clouding my senses, even with the blindfold over my eyes, I could hear Bryar getting closer, still singing. 

"Ring around the Rozie...Pocket full of posey...ashes....ashes....you'll all fall...." She was close, too close, much too close, I could smell her hate and madness and blood lust, even through my broken nose; she was that close. I tried to warn Zech, to tell him that she was right behind him, but all that came out of my throat was a strangled gurgle. 

Something cold on his hip brushed against me. 

Gun. 

"Ashes, ashes..." 

Ashes, ashes...

Ashes...

"You'll all fall....!" 

My fingers wrapped clumsily around the butt of the weapon as I heard Bryar rush for Zech's back, howling. 

"Down!!!" 

Zech whirled, no weapon in his hands, defenseless. 

Except for me. 

I raised the gun, blind and barely able to smell, and fired. 

The gun roared and jumped in my hands, and I heard Bryar scream in agony. 

"S**t-!" I heard Matt choke. "Zech, let's go!" My injuries screamed as Zech lurched into motion, and the pain was so much that my mind flared white, then faded into darkness. 

XXVI

Zech

Roze was in worse than bad shape. She was in three-inches-from-death shape. In less than twelve hours, she'd been brutally abused and unbelievably tortured, and the knot in my gut relaxed a teeny tiny bit when I realized she was alive. But when she fell into my arms and I realized just how badly she was hurt, it tightened up again. 

I wanted to kill the thing that had hurt her, the thing that was singing in echos as Matt shone the flashlight around, trying to spot it. 

Roze struggled and gurgled a little into my arms as the insane Vampire continued to sing. I looked down at her bruised, swollen, blindfolded face, and wondered why she was trying to flail. Then, a horrible howl of anger and blood lust came from behind me. I whirled around, but didn't have either hand free to defend myself, let alone Roze or Matt from the charging Vampire. 

Suddenly, a gun roared, and the Vampire screeched in pain. I heard Matt curse loudly. I looked down in surprise. Roze, blindfolded and shaking in pain and effort, was holding one of my guns, which was still smoking a bit. 

"Zech, let's go!" Matt choked, sending me into motion. I jarred Roze a bit as I moved, causing her to cry out in pain and suddenly go limp. Her unconscious fingers dropped my gun onto the warehouse floor, and I left it there. 

We left the building at a head run, me quickly shifting Roze into a fireman's carry. Using his knife, Matt sawed a large opening in the fence so we could get through. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon as we reached my truck. 

"Hospital or HQ?" Matt asked as we gently laid Roze across the middle seat and my lap. 

"HQ," I said. "There's the Medic Ward there, and they specialize in Vampire attacks." Matt jumped into the drivers seat and started up the truck, pulling out of the parking space and peeling out towards headquarters. 

As he slapped the magnetic cop light on top of the truck, I laid my hand along the side of Roze's face as gently as I knew how, praying that she would be okay. I'd taken the blindfold off, and her eyes fluttered open for a second. They were even more beautiful than I remembered, those perfect amber irises. 

"Zech..." she breathed, pressing her face against my hand even thought it must have hurt like hell. "You came for me. You...came...for me." And then she was out cold again. 

The hard knot in my gut loosened and finally vanished. 

When we got to headquarters, Sal was waiting for us. Shame, relief, pain, and exhaustion all flickered across his face as I gently lifted the unconscious Roze out of the truck cab. 

"Zech-" he began as I drew closer to the front door, but I gave him the hardest, coldest most furious look I could muster. It must have been something to behold, for he was immediately silent, cowed. 

"Even a few more minutes, Sal," I snarled. "And she could have been dead. If we had waited like you wanted...she would have been dead!" He flinched when my voice rose to an infuriated scream, but I couldn't feel ashamed of my behavior. I stormed past him, leaving Matt to explain what had happened. I carried Roze inside and into an elevator. Using my foot, I pressed the button marked "M.H." for the medical hospital, which took up six whole floors of the Hunter skyscraper. I tapped my foot impatiently as the elevator slowly moved upward. When we finally emerged into the reception level of the hospital, Roze was a big hit. She was nearly instantly snatched out of my arms and placed on a gurney, before being wheeled away. I was permitted by the doctors and nurses to go with her only because I threatened to make a scene if they didn't let me go. 

They pushed Roze into another elevator and up to the ICU floor where they proceeded to torture her nearly as badly as the Vampire had. They had to re-break her nose to set it right, waking her from unconsciousness with a cry. Her shoulder was dislocated and she screamed horribly when they shoved it back into place. I snarled and tried to strangle the urge to shove the stupid doctors away from her. Her ribs were broken in multiple places, and they found that one of her lungs had been punctured by the fractured bone. They took her away to surgery, where I wasn't allowed to go, despite my loud protestations. 

I sat in the waiting room until one of the nurses came out to tell me that Roze was out of the major surgery, and stabilized, but still unconscious. They still had over a dozen more surgeries to conduct, but had to wait until some of her swelling went down. 

"Go home," the nurse said. "Get some sleep. She'll be here in the morning." 

I slept on the horrendous excuse for a couch in the waiting room. 

The next morning, after four more surgeries and a total of nineteen hours of waiting, a doctor came out to speak to me. 

"Mr. Malachi," he began gravely. "Miss Del Imperator is in stable condition. She has countless injuries varying from minor to severe, and she will probably have scars from head to toe, and probably metal ones, too, for the rest of her life. But I believe she will make a full recovery with time." Relief flooded through me, and suddenly I had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing. 

She was going to be okay. 

I hadn't quite realized until that moment just how much I had been fearing that she would die. 

XXVII

Roze

I woke up in a hospital. The walls were plain tan, the ceiling eggshell white tiles. Machines connected to me by tubes and needles and wires and suction cups beeped and hummed against the wall to my left. I was lying in a hospital bed with rails on one side, not enough pillows and a far too crisp white bed sheet tucked over my lower body. I could hear the air conditioning running, along with the drip of an IV needle, a blood bag, and the steady breathing and heartbeat of someone to my right. There was a cast on my left leg, a sling on my arm, and I was swathed in bandages like a Halloween mummy, and what I could see of my skin was bruised terribly and slightly swollen. 

But, apparently I was full of morphine and some other wonderful drugs, because I couldn't feel anything, anywhere. I wondered, briefly, if Dominius had paralyzed me the last time he'd swung me into the wall. I tried to move my fingers and toes. They twitched weakly in response. Okay, not paralyzed. 

I tried to look around, but my neck was too stiff to move, and restrained by a neck brace. So I twitched my eyes left and right, trying to find the source of that separate heartbeat. 

Zech was sitting in a chair next to the bed, flopped over onto the edge, snoring gently. He looked exhausted, with hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He wore a nice, but dirty blue button-up shirt and dark slacks, his long black coat hanging over the back of his chair. His red and black hair was ruffled and stuck up everywhere. He looked tired, but somehow at peace. 

Trying to focus, I pushed and poked at my doped-up nerves until my right hand twitched its way over to gently touch my fingertips to his face. I sighed. 

Zech. 

His eyes slowly blinked open as I moved my fingers over his cheek. 

"Roze?" he mumbled, still half-asleep. I tried to remember how to speak under the weight of morphine. 

"Zech," I whispered finally, trying to smile. I probably looked terrible. 

"Roze!" he sat bolt upright, suddenly very awake. He leaned forward, gently touching my hand and my face. I noticed he hadn't shaved for at least a few days, and had quite a bit of stubble along his jaw. "How do you feel?" he asked. "They drugged you up pretty good." 

"I don't feel...anything," I breathed, frowning. "I don't...like it." 

"You'd rather be in pain?" he raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. I made a face at him. 

"I don't like...feeling...numb," I whispered, pouting a bit. He smiled wryly and leaned forward a bit more to kiss my forehead. 

"Get some more sleep, Roze. You need rest to heal," he told me, gently patting my hand. I grumbled silently for a second, but when I tried to blink my eyes, but they didn't open again. 

XXVIII

Zech

Roze spent six weeks in the hospital. At first, she mostly slept. But halfway through the second week, she was awake for hours at a time, and usually very bored. She took to quizzing me on Hunting, on my life, my family in particular. I avoided those questions as much as I could, unwilling to think about the bloody horror that had ruined my life so many years ago. I also asked about her life and family, but all she said was that she had been born in a coastal town and had a half-sister through her father. As soon as we learned to avoid the subjects of each other's pasts, we actually got along rather well. I spent nearly every minute I could spare in her hospital room, talking. The hours I was supposed to be in my office, instead I was with Roze, talking and laughing as I pretended to work. She was healing frighteningly slowly, her bruises taking weeks to heal when they should have taken days. I found her slow recovery odd. I also found several things she said and did odd, too, the more time I spent with her. 

"I love to waltz," she told me once as she picked at the bandage around her fractured elbow. "I haven't danced in ages, but I love to waltz. I remember, at the parties my sister used to throw..." He eyes got a dreamy, far-away look in them, like she was remembering something from a very long time ago. 

"Then maybe we could go dancing sometime," I said, bringing her back from her distant memories. 

"You dance?" she asked in surprise. "I thought it was an art lost to this era..." And that was it. Strange, odd little things that made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Sometimes, it seemed as if Roze had been born several decades ago, back when women wore long skirts and men smoked cigars and drank scotch. I found many things about her behavior very odd, but I ignored it. I had just saved her from being killed by Vampires; I didn't need something else to worry about yet. 

But Matt had other ideas. 

During Roze's fifth week in the hospital, my partner cornered me in my office before I went up to see her. 

"Zech," he knocked on my door frame as I was gathering my day's worth of paperwork so I could go visit Roze. 

"Yeah?" I responded absently, patting my pockets as I searched for my pen before finding it on my desk. 

"We need to talk," he stepped into my office, shutting the door behind him. "It's about Roze." 

"Is she okay?" I demanded, my head snapping up in alarm. We'd never caught the Vampire from that night, the copper-haired beauty. Had she come back? 

"She's fine, just fine," he reassured me quickly. "I just wanted to talk to you about the night we saved her." 

"What about it?" 

"Remember that Vampire? The red-head?" Matt asked, and I nodded. "Well, her body wasn't found. We think it's still alive, and probably very upset with the one who shot it." 

"I already know she might be in danger of another attack," I said, my stomach twisting a bit with repressed worry. 

"I know, but the thing I actually wanted to talk to you about is Roze shooting that Vampire," he sounded a little nervous, like he was afraid I was going to snarl at him or something. "It was dark in that warehouse, Zech. The flashlight was pointing the other way. That Vampire was probably moving at close to 100 miles per hour. and Roze hit it. While blindfolded. I doubt even Sal could have made a shot like that. Even if he wasn't beaten half unconscious with broken bones and punctured organs and a concussion and whiplash. I don't think any Hunter in the country could have made a shot like that." 

"So she got lucky. It happens sometimes, Matt," I shrugged, trying to ignore the prickle on the back of my neck. 

"You and I both know there's no such thing as luck, Zech," Matt said softly. "I don't think she's human." 

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. "She's no Vampire. She bleeds, she breathes, she pukes Matt! She has a heartbeat. She's alive." Matt pulled a fat packet of papers from his large jacket pocket and tossed it onto my desk. 

"Look at those," he said softly. "And then try and tell me she's human." Then he turned and walked out of my office. 

I glowered after him, then at the packet on my desk. 

I didn't want to open it. I didn't want to know what information my partner had come across to make him believe that Roze, sweet, gentle Roze, was a Vampire. 

Treating it like a poisonous spider, I flipped the packet over with my pen. In big, bold letters, the title read: 

"Dhampirs and Sol Altusi." 

I stared at it for a moment, bewildered. I knew a dhampir to be a half-human, half-Vampire child, spawn of a rapist Opacare. 

But what the hell was a Sol Altus? 

XXIX

Roze

Ring around the Rozie...pocket full of posey..ashes...ashes...you'll all fall...

DOWN!

I woke with a jerk, heart pounding. I laid perfectly still for a moment, not even breathing, until I remembered that I was safe, I was in the hospital at Hunter Headquarters. 

Well. 

I was as safe as a Vampire pursued by her own kind could get, anyway. Always surrounded by potential enemies. 

Zech isn't an enemy, I thought stubbornly as I relaxed my stiff body gradually. 

That's because he doesn't know you're a Sol Altus, whispered a voice in the back of my mind. He doesn't know you're a monster. 

I shook my head a little, dismissing the voice. I wouldn't think of that. I looked at the round, bland clock hanging on the wall of my hospital room. Almost ten o'clock. I frowned. Zech was late. I wondered why, briefly. Perhaps work had finally caught up with him? Yes, that must have been it. I sighed and settled back into my pillows, bored. I was looking forward to and dreading being released from the hospital. On one hand, I missed the comfort of my own home. On the other, I was terrified that what had happened within it would happen again, just as easily as it had the first time. There was also a small part of me that feared that Zech and I would drift apart after I went home. 

Stupid, whispered that voice again. And I knew it was right. It was ridiculous of me to be so attached to Zech. After all, as soon as I was healed enough, I was packing up and leaving. Maybe I'd even leave the country. Possibly to France? I'd always dreamed of seeing Paris. Or maybe Italy? Venice and Rome had been in my fantasies before, too. Perhaps I'd go on a world trip. Just wander the planet for the rest of my existence..

I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep again until I was already dreaming. 

The lighting is soft, more of a gentle glow than anything else. I can't see a source for it. The floor and walls and ceiling are all white marble that seems to be speckled with golden flecks that makes them sparkle and glimmer. There are rich purple curtains hanging around the tall sweeping windows that displayed the inky black sky with its scattering of pale stars. But I am more focused on the interior of the room. 

It seems to be a grand ballroom, with a large band in the corner, playing a graceful waltz. Countless people twirl across the dance floor, all in gorgeous gowns and dashing suits. It seems to be a masked ball, all of the guests are wearing complex and intriguing masks of every shape, size, and design. 

I realize that I, too, wear and elegant gown and mask. My gown is blood-red, with thin straps and a split in the side up to my hip with a decorative black and silver corset. My mask is also black and silver, hiding all of my face save for a triangle around my nose and mouth. 

I look around the ballroom, watching all the other couples waltz. I long to join, and take a hesitant step forward. As if on cue, a young man separates from the crowd, stepping towards me with a familiar, almost careless stride. He wears a pair of dark slacks, a button-up blue shirt and a long black coat with a black mast. His hair is black with a streak of red in the front. His eyes are a hauntingly familiar brown, and there is something about his smile that stirs my memory, but I cannot place it. 

He holds out his hand to me, those brown eyes burning with an emotion that makes me feel frightened, but excited, too. I hesitate only for a second, then place my hand in his. He pulls me out onto the dance floor, twirling me into his embrace, holding me close. He spins me around effortlessly, his hands warm and gentle on my waist and hand. I stare up into my eyes, watching the emotions burn. 

Suddenly, he leans down, pulling me close against to him. I can feel every curve and angle of his body against my own. I can feel his heartbeat, fast and nervous in his chest. His eyes close, and he continues to lean down until his lips are only a hair's breadth from my own. A familiar sweet, sugary scent floods my senses, and suddenly, I know who he is...

I woke without opening my eyes, trying to hold onto the dream. I wished that it had been real. I would have loved to have danced with him. 

"Zech..." I sighed as I slowly opened my eyes. 

XXX

Zech

"Dhampirs and Sol Altusi." 

Just under the title was an old, faded ink stamp that read "CLASSIFIED" in blocky red letters. That simple stamp made my stomach clench uncomfortably. 

Hunters didn't have classified information. Keeping information from a Hunter about a breed of Vampire could get the Hunter killed. 

So why was this file classified? 

Hesitantly, I pulled off the rubber band and flipped it open. Wishing Matt could have left well enough alone, I started reading. 

" When a human is first turned, it becomes an Opacare. Usually, the first instinct of a Opacare is to feed. After it has drunk its fill, it turns to its secondary instinct. Now, in many Vampires, this instinct is to hunt down people they knew during their human life. However, for some reason, Opacares, especially males, find their second instinct to be mating. 

"Since there are very few female Opacares willing to mate, the Opacares often end up kidnapping a human female. 99% of the time, the Opacare will feed upon his victim, usually killing her. However, very, very rarely, the victim survives, and becomes pregnant. Most women abort the monster child inside of them. Less than one percent of women that survive Vampire rape choose to bear the child. 

"The result of a human-Vampire union is called a dhampir. A dhampir is a human with Vampiric speed and senses, without the thirst for blood. Most of the time, their parentage is kept secret, and often they join the Hunters as an invaluable asset. 

"Now, dhampirs are exceeding rare, perhaps only one in every four million. 

"But there is one creature on this earth that is even more rare than a dhampir. 

"It is called a Sol Altus." 

I didn't want to read anymore. I wanted to believe that Roze was human. At the absolute worst, I wanted her to be dhampir. Then, at least, she wouldn't be dangerous. She wouldn't have to be destroyed. I could let her live, perhaps even take her into Hunter society as an apprentice. 

I didn't want to read anymore. I wanted to believe her safe. Harmless. 

Please. 

But I had to know. 

I turned the page and kept reading, my stomach churning unhappily. 

"A Sol Altus is a fearsome creature, one of the strongest and most dangerous enemies a man can have. 

"Sol Altusi are dhampirs that have been Turned. Usually, it is a complete accident that a Nocte has chosen a dhampir as its victim. However, some of the ancient Noctes-the intelligent ones-have been known to experiment with dhampirs and Sol Altusi on purpose. 

"After a dhampir is bitten, it becomes a Sol Altus. Like a dhampir, a Sol Altus is alive, and mortal in a sense. However, Sol Altusi have a taste for blood. They are as strong, if not stronger, than the Nocte, and the same is to be said of their speed and senses. Often, Sol Altusi have special skills, such as an especially heightened sense of sight or smell or hearing. Sol Altusi will live forever, frozen at the same age, until they die of extreme injury. In 1983, a Sol Altusi was recorded to survive being completely crushed by a rock slide. Though, when they are injured, it takes them a very long time to heal without blood. Sol Altusi can survive without blood, unlike other Vampire species, but most prefer not to. 

"Sol Altusi are even more rare, maybe one in every twelve million." 

I set the pack of papers down on my desk, staring down at it without seeing. 

It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. It just couldn't be true. 

Please. 

Please, let it be a lie. Let Matt burst in any second, laughing at how gullible I am. Please. Don't let that whisper of memory enter my mind. Don't let me remember her beautiful amber eyes burning with a need I'd mistaken as lust. It had been desire, hadn't it? It couldn't have been...

Thirst. 

That night in her apartment. She'd kept going for my neck, my throat. How could I not have noticed? Her astonishing grace and beauty, her odd way of speaking, her strange behavior. 

Oh, God. 

I was a fool. 

Roze was a Sol Altus. 

I must have been blind not to see it. 

Fool! 

I whirled around and flung my office door open, slamming it shut behind me. I strode down the hall in a storm out outraged disbelief. I skipped the elevator and headed for the stairs; if I stopped moving, I would start thinking, and then I would break down. I would fall to my knees crying out in agony and disappointment and shame, that I, Zecharias Malachi, a R. 83 Hunter, had fallen so deeply in love with a Vampire. 

XXXI 

Zech

I made it to Roze's floor without thinking. I got to her room, my mind blank. I walked over to her bedside, only purpose and action filling my mind. No emotion. No thoughts. Nothing. 

Nothing at all. 

I reached into my pocket to draw out my gun and execute her. She was a Vampire. Vampires must be destroyed. Vampires must be destroyed. 

I raised the gun.

And then I looked into her face. 

Her beautiful face. Her soft pink mouth was curved into a happy smile as she dreamed, her cheeks flushed with pleasure at the imaginings of her subconscious. She sighed softly, then spoke in a sweet whisper. 

"Zech..." she breathed. Her eyes opened, soft, golden amber coming to rest on my face, not even noticing the gun in my hand. 

Beautiful. Trusting. Sweet. Familiar. Kind. Defenseless. Looking up at me with warmth and surprise in her eyes. 

"Zech," she said again, her sweet voice filling my ears and starting my brain thinking again. Thinking about her. About her face, her smile, her eyes, her laughter, her voice, her hands, thinking about her, her, her. About the terror that had seized me when I picked up the phone the day she'd been taken from me. I realized that I had loved her, even then. 

Roze...

My will broke. 

I couldn't do it. 

I stuffed the gun back into my pocket before she could see it. I couldn't bring any expression to my face, nor any words to my lips. I could only stare at her, at my Roze, at the Sol Altus laying in the hospital bed looking up at me. 

"Zech? What is it? You're so pale," she reached up with one of her bandaged hands to brush her fingers against my cheek. I sank to my knees beside her bed, remembering her words from over the phone that that awful day I'd nearly lost her. 

Zech, I'm sorry, so sorry, I lied to you...

And the night we'd met, when my instincts had cried out but my heart had shied away. 

I...I'm a mortal girl. 

Well. It wasn't exactly a lie. She was mortal-to extent-and female. So, technically, it could apply....but she wasn't human. 

She'd lied to me. 

She had lied to me. 

"Zech? Are you okay? Please, talk to me. Has something happened?" she cupped my face in her hands, tugging against the tubes in her arms. Her fingers and hands and arms were still yellow and green with old bruises that should have healed weeks ago. 

"Nothing's happened," I said softly, my voice sounding strange even to me. "Everything's fine." Her face betrayed her emotions; I could tell she was worried about me, about my behavior. I wondered, briefly, if I could actually do it. I could take out the gun right now and execute her on suspicion and reasonable evidence. Matt believed her a Vampire. I suspected she was probably at least a dhampir, more likely to be a Sol Altus. With that evidence and support, it would pass Sal's questions. After all, no Vampires of any kind had a place in civil or criminal court. As a hunter, I couldn't be accused of murder if the victim was a Vampire. 

I could do it. I should do it. 

But I didn't want to. 

And I could not physically get myself to reach for my gun at all. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill her. 

I stared into her face, so beautiful and perfect, even with cuts and bruises that should have been gone ages ago. My heart stuttered a bit. 

God, I was in love with a Vampire. What a fool I was. 

XXXII

Roze

Zech was horribly pale, his face closed against emotion as he knelt beside me, his eyes on my face. Like in my dream, his eyes were burning, but not with passion. His eyes were on fire with agony. He was in pain, awful pain, and I didn't know why. 

I cupped his face in my hands, trying to understand. What was wrong? 

"Nothing's happened," he told me, his voice hollow, broken, full of pain. "Everything's fine." I could see dark thoughts tumbling around behind his eyes, smell the pain on him, sharp and unpleasant. He was trembling under my touch, his breathing rough and uneven. He stank of fear, of shock and anger and hate. But then he looked up at me and stared into my face. I heard his heartbeat stutter a bit before picking up the pace. the other scents, the hot, spicy, and bitter scents faded away to be replaced by the smooth, sweet, chocolate scent that I couldn't seem to put a name to. 

That scent filled my nose, overwhelming my senses, making me dizzy. What was that scent? What did it mean? 

Zech was still staring at me, watching my expression, his face still closed, his eyes burning with pain. 

"Zech?" I said his name one more time, staring at him as he gazed back at me. Something broke behind his eyes, and even though the pain still smoldered there, something else was burning even more brightly. Suddenly, he rose up and pressed forward, his expression determined. He closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his mouth firmly against mine. 

I gasped a bit, lips parting. His tongue shyly brushed over my lower lip before retreating. He tasted just like that sweet scent. He was very gentle, his lips moving over my mouth. He pulled back for a second to breathe, and then he was kissing me again. It was more than pleasant. It was more than amazing. I couldn't even think straight by the time he pulled away again, his eyes holding a burning pain and a white-hot passion that could only mean one thing. 

"I love you," he said softly, stroking my face gently. "I love you. I know what you are, and yet I love you still." It took a moment for that to register. He loved me. Okay. Not good. Certainly not good. It made me stupid happy, but it wasn't good, regardless. 

I know what you are. 

Those five words froze the blood in my veins. 

"Know...what I am?" I whispered fearfully. He nodded, pale and something like defeat in his face. He leaned close to me, his lips brushing over my cheek until they reached my ear to whisper two little words that shattered my world. 

"Sol Altus." 

XXXIII

Zech

Her face drained of all color and I knew that I was right. She wasn't human. She wasn't even half human. 

She was a vampire. 

A Sol Altus. 

But I still couldn't kill her. 

Shock, pain, and fear filled her face and her eyes overflowed with tears. 

"You came here to execute me," she whispered, making no move to run, her hands still on my face. She was shaking with fear. 

"You don't deny it," I said softly, closing my eyes. "You are, aren't you. A Sol Altus." 

"I am what you say," she leaned her forehead against mine, her skin soft and warm. And any hope I had that it wasn't true died a quiet, agonized death. 

"Vampire," I breathed. 

"Yes. Yes, I'm a Vampire," she breathed as she started to cry harder, her body shaking. "I'm a monster." Her eyes closed as she pulled back away from me, slumping against her pillows. "I was born in a tiny seaside town on the east coast I can't remember the name of in 1927. I grew up like any other child of that age, modeled to be a homemaker, like my mother. But I was d-d-different. I was faster than everyone else. Stronger, too. And I didn't know why. My family h-hid me away because they were ashamed of what I was. Even back then, when no one believed in Vampires or m-m-monsters, they knew...they knew what had raped my mother and planted its foul seed inside of her...my own grandfather wanted to k-k-kill me...but Momma wouldn't let him....

"When I was seventeen, Dominius f-f-found me...he's b-been experimenting with dhampirs for centuries...Bryar had been his favorite Turnling...she was strong and cold...everything a Vampire should be...Dominius was excited about me because I was a stronger dhampir than Bryar had been....but when I woke...when I tried to feed...I was disgusted. I couldn't do it," she sobbed with shame and fear, her face in her hands as she gasped and stuttered out her words. "And I could smell it. I could smell everything. That boy's b-blood...Dominius's stench...and when I failed...when I pulled away and puked my guts out because I was so disgusted by my own being...I could smell their disappointment. B-b-because I was still a failure. I've always been a failure. A mistake!" Her voice rose to a despairing wail. 

I knelt next to Roze's hospital bed, suffering from my third or fourth heart-stopping epiphany of the day. 

Roze couldn't drink blood. She was so disgusted by it, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was a Vampire, but she didn't hurt people. 

She didn't need to be erased. 

XXXIV

Zech

"Roze...look at me, Roze," I shook her shoulders gently, drawing her attention. "Stay here, okay? Don't go anywhere, don't let anybody but me back in, alright? I'm not going to let you die if I can help it." 

"H-huh?" she hiccuped, looking up. Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying, and her nose was running a bit, but she was still beautiful to me. 

I would not let her be killed. 

"I'll be right back," I said, brushing her hair out of her face and kissing her forehead. Then I got up and strode from the room, heading for the stairs again, unable to stomach the idea of the slow ride down to the Hunter's offices in the elevator. I clattered down the narrow steps, a wild, desperate hope gripping my mind. 

It had never been done before...it had never even been thought of before. But it was possible...if I could get him to believe me...

I charged down the hall of the fourth floor, startling the Hunters gathered there. I slammed one of the doors open without even knocking, puffing like a bellows. 

Sal stared at me in surprise, his mouth open in a small O as he held a pen in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. 

"Sanctuary! Clemency! Whatever the hell it's called!" I gasped. "I request sanctuary for Roze Del Imperator!" 

"Zech," I jumped as Matt spoke from where he stood next to the door. "What do you think you're doing?" 

"I'm requesting sanctuary!" I snapped before turning to Sal. "Please. Roze isn't dangerous. She doesn't harm people!" 

"She's a Vampire," Matt hissed. "Have you lost your mind, Zech? She's not human!" 

"She's not a threat to us, either, though!" I shouted. "D****t, Matt, she doesn't hurt people! She doesn't need to die!" I turned on Sal, gripping the edge of his desk so hard my knuckles turned white. "Sal, she can't drink blood. It makes her physically ill. When I first met her, she was puking in the street just from the scent of blood. You've got to grant her sanctuary." Sal's face was closed, his eyes narrow. He set down the paper and pen he was holding to fold his hands together as he looked calmly up at me. 

"This is not like you, Zech," he sighed. "She is a Vampire, no matter the breed. You watched your family be slaughtered by Vampires when you were a child. And you want to let her live?" 

I flinched violently as that old rage surged up in me. Those buried memories welled up inside, swelling into a dream-like reality in my head. 

It is very cold outside, snow coating the ground and buildings. I am inside, watching cartoons in the living room. I am seven years old. My three year old sister is in her playpen, making baby talk to herself as Mommy makes dinner in the kitchen. Daddy is in the den, watching football on the big TV. I can hear the radio in the kitchen, talking about the sudden outbreak of attacks and disappearances. Hunters are desperately trying to keep the situation under control, but they can't be everywhere at once. 

Not long after the sun goes down, we hear a window break upstairs. Daddy gets his gun out of the cabinet and tells Mommy to stay with us kids. He goes upstairs and all is silent for a moment. Then I hear Daddy yell, the gun roars, and there is an unholy shriek from upstairs. 

Baby Ashlynn starts crying and Mommy tries to shush her as she dials 9-1-1 on the telephone. The gun roars again and we hear Daddy yelling like mad that there's too many. 

Fear has me frozen like a statue when my father's body starts tumbling downstairs. From the limp, floppy way he moves I can tell he is dead. He lands at my feet, his body collapsed like a rag doll, all unnatural angles and crooked limbs. His eyes are open, but they're empty of everything that had made him my Daddy. 

Mommy screams incoherently into the phone. Ashlynn is wailing in her arms. My eyes are fixed on the top of the stairway, where an unimaginable horror stands. 

It is around five foot seven inches, and would have been taller if it would stand straight. Instead it stands hunched over and slightly crouched. It is hideously thin; flaking, dry skin stretched tightly over its bones. It is horribly pale, its complexion that of a long-dead corpse. It had once been a man, and I can see the faint ghost of a handsome human being behind the twisted face of the Vampire. His ragged clothing spoke of a couple of decades past, and I knew this was an old Vampire, though not one of the most powerful, frightening creatures out there. 

It slowly begins to walk downstairs, its bony fingers clicking against the rungs of the railing. Its dead, milky eyes are fixed on me, its head tilted somewhere between curiosity and arrogance. It pauses halfway down the stairs, watching me. Then it spoke. 

"Take the mother and child," it hisses, in a voice like sandpaper over rocks. "But leave the one that does not scream for me." For the first time, I look past him, and see who he is talking to. 

There are more of them. Many more. Perhaps two dozen. Some of them look as old as the first, others merely days or even hours fresh. On all of their dead faces is a bestial thirst that howls to be sated. 

With an earsplitting shriek, they rush forward, carelessly swatting me aside to get to Mommy and Ashlynn. Their screams rise to something inhuman as I lay dazed on the floor. They sound more like pigs at slaughter than a woman and her child. 

I try and get up and help them, but suddenly the hunched Vampire is standing over me, leering into my face with bloody, broken teeth. I gasp as its claw-like fingers grab onto my face and slowly lift me from the floor. 

Then the front door slams open and strange men rush in, yelling as the fire their drawn guns, taking out Vampire after Vampire so that our home becomes a complete war-zone. 

The hunched Vampire drops me with a howl as a bullet takes it through the chest. Sick with fear and mental numbness, I collapse to the floor next to the bodies of my family. It is not long before I start to vomit violently, choking and heaving as my body rejects what my senses tell my brain. 

Dead. 

All dead. 

I am alone. 

I snarled and pushed at Sal's desk violently as I shoved the memory away. 

"That's different!" I snapped. "Roze isn't a monster! She doesn't drink blood! She can't!" 

"You can't prove that," Sal sighed. "We can't put human lives at stake on the word of a Vampire. We can't prove that she's not dangerous." 

"Yes, we can!" I roared, throwing my hands up in the air. "Look at the evidence, Sal! Matt himself saw her puking into the gutter that day because of the smell of blood!" 

"But we can't prove that it's not all an act, Zech," Matt said softly. "How do you know she's not faking it?" 

"Then tempt her! Offer her blood! I swear she won't take it!" I turned desperately to Sal. 

"I will not put a human life in danger to save a Vampire, Zecharias!" he rumbled. 

"Then I'll do it!" I screamed. "Put me up as bait! If she takes it, I die and nothing will stop you from killing her, too!" Sal looked shocked as I stood there in his office, breathing hard before I calmed down a bit and said in a normal tone of voice, "Sal. I can prove that she's innocent. Please, let me do this. Give me a chance to save her." 

Sal was silent, looking at my face. He sighed. 

"You're going to get yourself killed, boy," he told me. "Fine. If she resists the call of your blood, I will grant her sanctuary." 

XXXV

Roze

When Zech came back, he was even paler than before. With him were Matt, and a strange man named Sal. Both of them were armed. My heart sank. Zech had lied to me. He had come to execute me. 

I had always hoped that when Death finally did come for me, I would face it with my head held high and with no fear in my heart. 

I did not fulfill my hope. 

I cowered in my hospital bed as Zech came closer, a strip of black cloth in his hand. I whimpered as he gently brushed a hand over my hair. "Sorry about all this, Roze," he whispered to me before tying it around my eyes so I couldn't see. I wanted to cry out and fight back as he gently lifted me from the bed after having a nurse come and detach all the tubes and wires and needles. But I couldn't. Instead, I clung to him like a frightened child, hoping, praying, that somehow he would save me from certain death. I could smell his cologne and that sweet chocolate scent. He also smelled very faintly of fear. I could also smell Matt and Sal. Matt smelled angry and agitated, worry rolling off him in waves. Sal smelled of defeat and sadness. 

The scents confused me, and I tried to focus on Zech's smells as he carried me along invisible hallways and staircases. Fear was making my stomach tremble like a wet kitten, and I all I wanted was to have died in that warehouse. Better to have been murdered by people I hated then executed by people I cared about. Tat sweet scent filled my nose, blocking everything out but the memory of his confession, and the pain that came with it. If he really loved me, why was he helping them kill me? 

Suddenly, Zech stopped walking and set me gently down on a cold, rough floor. Everything smelled slightly damp. Were we in the basement? As Zech let go of me, I whimpered and stretched my hands out after him. 

"It's okay, Roze. It's okay," he told me as I heard him stepping away. "Just relax." I could hear and smell Sal and Matt moving around, too, murmuring quietly to each other. 

"See how her head follows him?" Matt said softly. "She can smell him, or hear him. That blindfold's too thick for her to see through, no matter how good her eyes are." 

"Quiet. Let Zech have his test. Then we must be prepared to deal with a feeding Sol Altus," Sal whispered back, his voice cracking with an emotion I couldn't place. "Be on your guard. It may try to attack one of us once its finished with Zech." So I was an it now. Despair crushed my soul. 

In the end, I could not be like everyone else. I was different. 

I was and always would be a monster. A creature that belongs to the night, yet one that walked in daylight. Fate is cruel and cold, unfeeling even as I sat on that freezing, damp floor, trembling in my hospital gown and pajamas. 

I heard Zech's nervous breathing, smell the sour scent of his fear and the frantic thumping of his heart. I heard him draw a knife, the quiet sliding of metal as he pulled it free of its sheath. My heart stuttered with fear as he palmed the knife nervously. 

"I love you, Roze," he said, so softly that none but me could possibly hear. "I love you." And then he brought the blade down. I could hear it whistling through the air. I flinched away, too cowardly to face Death when she came for me. 

But the blade did not connect with my flesh, but Zech's instead. I heard him grit his teeth as the knife bit into his skin, and gasp in pain as he pulled it free. 

The smell of his blood hit me like a brick wall as a few spatters hit my cheek. Smooth, sweet, and utterly delicious. 

"Okay, Roze. Come on..." Zech panted. The scent was driving me mad, I barely heard what he said. I reached up and pulled down the blindfold, searching with my eyes for Zech. He was sitting on the floor in front of me, a bloody knife in one hand, the other limp in his lap as blood flowed from a wound in his forearm. My eyes locked on the pumping blood. The smell in the air was so strong I could nearly taste it. My mouth opened a little as I licked my lips. 

"Get ready," Matt whispered. "Any second now..." Zech watched my face with a look of faith and fear, sitting there, just waiting for me to drink him dry. 

"Well, Roze?" he asked softly. "Aren't you going to eat me?" I was fighting inside, my instincts at war with my heart. I needed to eat him. My body demanded it. It would help me heal completely. I wouldn't have to feel stiff or sore anymore. I wouldn't have to hurt. For the first time, I could drink all the blood I could hold, and then I would finally die, killed by the friends of the man I loved. 

The man I loved. 

Oh, Zech. 

Hair as dark as the night with a streak as read as the dawn. Eyes a soft as chocolate and a mouth that was firm and tasted like the sweetest cocoa. Hands, strong and sure, arms that held me tightly enough to take my breath away. A body that moved with swift sureness, and smelled of anger, blood, hate, and pure, unadulterated love. 

Suddenly, everything was clear, and once more, the smell of his blood hit me like a slap to the face. A second later, I pitched to one side to vomit up my last few hospital meals, spewing chunks of half-digested food everywhere. My stomach heaved and revolted and I puked again, coughing and retching and hating my life. I started sobbing wretchedly as my body continued to spasm, tears and snot mixing into the mess on my face. 

"I told you," I heard Zech say smugly. "She's physically unable to drink blood. Just a few seconds around it and she starts throwing up." 

"I've never seen anything like it," Sal said in wonder. "A Vampire that can't stand blood." I felt slightly annoyed as my tears started to subside and I realized I was laying in my own puke while they talked about how amazing I was. 

"Excuse me," I said sourly. "But can I go back to bed now?" I heard them all turn to look at me in surprise. 

"Oh, sorry about that, Roze," Zech walked over and helped me sit up. There was vomit all over the floor and in my hair and on my clothes, but Zech didn't hesitate for a second to scoop me up in his arms and hold  me close, despite his bleeding arm. 

"Aright, Zech. I'll grant your request," Sal sighed, running a hand back up over his head. "But first take Roze back up to the hospital and get that cut looked at. You'll probably need stitches." 

"Of course, Sal. Thank you," Zech held me more tightly, and I clung to him, surprised to find that the smell of his blood no longer summoned the hunger to my body. It still made me nauseous, though, and I had to fight to keep my gorge down. 

I didn't understand what was going on at all, but I somehow had the feeling that everything was starting to work itself out. 

Epilogue

I knew I was dreaming, but I kept shoving that thought away to the back of my mind, because I didn't want to lose hold of the image in front of me. 

He was tall and well-built, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. His dark hair was swept back in the style of forty years ago, a few stray hairs dropping into his face. He stared at me with pale grey eyes full of admiration and love, and I longed to reach out and touch his face, his hand, any part of him at all. But I knew if I did, he would vanish like smoke. 

"Henry..." I mumbled, feeling my body shudder with a movement from outside my dream. The image started to slip away, and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter to try and hold it in place. 

"What was that, Bryar?" asked another voice, a dry, deep baritone that slipped into my head with a mixture of oil and honey, poison sweetened with malice. The last shred of the dream vanished as I opened my eyes and sighed. 

"Nothing, Father," I said, not meeting the gaze of the creature sitting across from me. 

It had once been a man. In many ways, he still resembled a human. But only a fool would mistake him for a living being. 

His hair was dry, brittle, and colorless, tied back in a long tail at the nape of his neck with a blood-red ribbon. His face was as pale as a corpse, the skin around his eyes was flaking and the color of dried, rotten meat. His eyeballs themselves were pale and milky with cataracts, his irises a barely visible circle of grey with a small dot of black at the center of each. His mouth was set in a cold, humorless smile, the skin cracking and splitting at the corner of his pale, thin lips. A cream-colored cloth was wrapped around his throat and tucked into the open collar of his black silk shirt. He wore black slacks and his feet were clad in dark leather boots. His legs were crossed, and his pale, thin hands were folded neatly in his lap, two golden rings on the last two fingers of his left hand. Over it all he wore a black cape with a high collar and a dark red inner lining. 

Dominius Imperatrix watched me carefully for a moment before nodding and looking back out the heavily tinted window. The limo we were riding in was all black, even the leather interior, and every window was tinted almost to the point of illegality, to prevent even the tiniest ray of sunshine from reaching my Nocte Sire. 

I looked down at my own pale hands. So much time spent in darkness. Rozie had a tan. She had looked healthy, even without blood. 

Well. 

She'd looked heathy before Dominious had started using her like a demented cat's toy. I closed my eyes briefly at the image of my little sister hanging in chains from the ceiling of a dark warehouse, bruised, broken, and bleeding. 

A small shiver went down my spine when I remembered the hate and fury in her snarl when she'd stared at me through her blindfold. 

Oh, Rozie. What happened? We used to be such friends. I had thought she'd been happy to see me after what happened with...after what happened forty years ago. After all, hadn't I been the one to leave her behind? 

Or was it her that left me? 

I shuddered as I came too close to memories I had buried long ago. 

No. I must have been the one to leave. Rozie never had the strength to abandon me. To deny me. Not even to stand up to me. 

But she'd stood up to me in her apartment. And again in the warehouse. 

And then once  more, when she'd shot me. I touched my heavily bandaged side. 

What happened? We used to be so close...Like true sisters. What happened to my Rozie? 

And I remembered that man, the one with the black and red hair. The one that smelled like Hershey's chocolate; so delicious. 

The Hunter. 

Why had he come after Rozie with such...determination? Neither Father no I had noticed him in her life in the past few weeks as we'd watched her, monitering her movements, learning her schedule so we could take her without much trouble. 

But that Hunter...he had known almost immediately that she had been taken. 

How? Better yet, why? 

People were taken often. The Vampiric infestation had nearly doubled in the past few years. More Opacares were being created every day. In South America, there were even cults that worshiped some Noctes as gods and willingly traded their humanity to become like them. 

Fools. They had no concept of how precious their mortal life really is. 

I sighed again. 

Riddles in the dark. 

"What are you thinking, my Bryar?" Dominius asked, his grey eyes watching me without blinking. You don't need to blink when you're dead. 

"Rozie," I admitted. "I was wondering what we were going to do now that she has friends among the Hunters." I fingered my bandages again. The shot Rozie had taken at me had blown away part of my left side, and I was only half-healed because Dominius wouldn't allow me to gorge myself a I wanted. 

"Ah. Yes. About that..." he mused, nodding slightly. "I forgot to tell you. Since she refused to rejoin with us, her family, and has chosen human, I have decided that she is no longer useful to our cause, or my research. 

"I plan to kill her. Soon. And with her the Hunters that denied me the pleasure of torturing her to death on my own terms." I blanched and twisted my hands together. 

"Are...are you sure another form of persuasion won't convince her, Father?" I asked timidly. He looked at me, not even glaring, and my skin went cold. "I mean, perhaps, if we indirectly threatened her, she might be more willing to return to us?" He continued to just look at me, and I felt myself break into a cold sweat. 

Then he looked away and said, "Indirectly threaten her..." He thought for a moment, then raised his eyebrows and looked back at me, disbelief in his milky eyes. "You think she is in love." 

"Why else would he come after her so quickly? And what reason would she have to resist us so much?" I shrugged, looking down at my clasped hands. "It only makes sense." 

"Indirectly threaten her...hmmm....you may be onto something, my Bryar," he said, starting to laugh. He laughed in a cold, merciless way that made my insides squirm uncomfortably, even after he had stopped. "Very well," he said. "We shall try your idea. After all, my wild Roze is a very unique Sol Altus, even if she does not realize it herself. It would, truly, be a waste to kill her unless there was no other option. Perhaps it would be fruitful to instead capture her lover, the Hunter with red and black hair..." 

Author's Note

I wrote this down a long time ago, and decided to throw it up on here and see what people thought. :) Let me know how you feel about the story line, characters, whatever. :) Thanks for reading.