Zara smiled and wiped at her lips as she began walking confidently through the night. Her knee-high black leather boots clopped against the pavement of the alley as she went and she loved the sound as it filled the emptiness around her. She slipped into the matching black leather trench coat, which she had only just purchased, having removed it earlier. Wouldn't want to spill. She flipped her long black hair behind her and sped up her pace, eager to get out into the deserted city. It had been a good night. As she approached the end of the alleyway, she noticed some movement from just beyond the lamppost about a block down. She narrowed her eyes, picking out the details of the man easily. Even as she did so, he stepped into the light. It was a sign of respect; a showing of good faith, revealing himself to her. Not that she had needed it to recognize him.
The light shown brightly off his shaved head, adding an eerie glow to his dark skin, making him look oddly surreal. His full face was handsome and stern, his square chin very proud. His dark eyes glittered with strength and dignity, and his impressive shoulders were held back with remarkable posture. He exuded confidence in every way. Confidence and power. It was him; the man who she had been spotting in the shadows more and more often. The one who seemed to be nearby every single time she was alone, as of late. Had he been human, she would have demanded to know who he was, what he wanted of her. Why he was so arrogant as to stalk her like this. But he was not. The look of his skin, the grace and speed in which he moved, even his very smell; everything about him told her he was nothing of the sort. And that simple fact changed everything.
The self-assurance drained off of her with remarkable speed. Without even being aware of it, she changed her whole posture, transforming from the creature that belonged in the darkness, into a cowering mouse of a woman. He was bigger and stronger then her. He was her superior, obviously more comfortable in his powers then she would ever be. Zara could not face him. Instead, she forced her knees to move. Forced her legs into a run. To get her out of there. No sooner had she turned back to the alleyway, though, then he was at her side, grabbing her elbow and spinning her back to face him.
"Wait." His rich voice boomed at her. She covered her head with her arms, expecting the blows that would surely come for her stupidity. Yet nothing came. Instead, a very bizarre feeling began at the base of her skull. It started out as nothing more then an odd tingling, but quickly transformed into a poking and pushing sensation, as if something was trying to get in her head. She resisted it fiercely, uncovering her head and looking up at him with confusion in her gray eyes.
"What -" She never finished her question. Before she could, the thing trying to get in beat down her resistance and exploded in her skull with incredible ease. Instantly, a pain she had never before imagined possible hit her with such force she clasped her head again and cried out. Her body was on fire. No, not on fire. It was being consumed by fire. But it was worse. Oh, so much worse. Because even as she felt her very blood turned to ash by the flames she could not see, she felt something pinching at every single centimeter of skin on her. Not pinching. Pulling. Trying to pull it off! Words didn't begin to describe the agony that had her begging for death. But she was long past the point of words within mere seconds of this. Instead, something primal brewed in the very depths of her dissolving stomach and tore its way loose from her lungs with an intensity that she had never known before. It was so much more then a scream. So very much more.
She fell to the ground, but never even knew it. As she lost her grip on consciousness and tumbled into what she prayed was death, the last image she saw was the dark man's proud face twisted into a mask of fear and worry.
Then there was darkness.

She blinked several times when she opened her eyes again. Nothing she did though could remove the fogginess that seemed to have taken root in her mind. She didn't know where she was. She didn't really know who she was either. All she knew for sure was that the pain, though it had lessened some, was with her still and prevented her from moving. That and that she was very thirsty.
"Gabriel?" She called out; unsure of whom it was she was calling. But she did know that it was not him who came. It was the dark man. The one who had done this to her. He looked down at her with a deep concern that was absent of all the malice and cruelty she had expected though. Had she been able to think clearly, she would probably have been surprised. He put a blissfully cold hand on her forehead and left it there for a second, his deep brown eyes filled with worry. Then he mumbled something about a fever to someone behind her. Someone she could not see. Fever? But she couldn't get fevers. She was sure that was true. Wasn't it?
"Go get her something to drink." Said a musical voice that she was certain she should recognize. Then it sighed sadly. "I'll call him." The dark man nodded and vanished from her sight. As he left, a delicate hand moved to take the spot his had held. For a second, she thought she felt it tremor a little. Then it too disappeared and she saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. A second later, the dark man returned and propped up her pillows, helping her sit up. He handed her a tall glass of water and watched as she emptied it gratefully. Almost the moment she handed it back to him, she felt the darkness taking hold of her again. She fell back onto the pillows and her eyes slid shut.
"Night is coming soon." His voice accompanied her as she stumbled into troubled dreams. "Night will make you better."

Zara opened her eyes again. She could only vaguely remember what had been going since her initial loss of consciousness. There were flashes of a man and woman caring for her, but she could not bring their images to any kind of clarity. Nor could she recall what had been said. The pain, to her vast relief, had receded quite significantly. It was still with her though. And it made her very glad she was lying in a soft bed. She managed to turn her head, surprised at its stiffness, and look around the darkened room.
To her frustration, she could discern no details. It wasn't that she could see it. Her eyesight was superb, and she knew it. No, it was more like her brain would not translate what she saw into meaningful images. With one exception. To her right, passed out in a small black recliner, was a mop of bright orange hair that she recognized instantly.
"Seany?" She murmured, not wanting to wake him but needing the assurance of his familiarity. It was all he needed though. As if he had been waiting for her for some time, he instantly awoke and jumped from the chair to be at her side.
"I'm here, Zara. What do you need? Are you thirsty again? Hungry? Are you supposed to eat? I don't remember if you're supposed to starve a fever or a cold. It's been way to long. Do you need to sit up? Should I get the others? I don't know if they're here. I think they went to get something to eat before I fell asleep."
"Seany." She said again, interrupting him. He shook his head a little, sending the locks of orange flying into their typical disarrayed mass. His paler then usual face colored a little, bringing out his freckles. His green eyes wavered with worry. It was then Zara realized how frightened he was. "I'm ok. Not stellar, but I'll live." She hesitated a moment. "I promise." He smiled and kissed her forehead.
"Yeah, of course you will. Never doubted it." He lied. She sat up, eliciting a shout from him. "Hey! I know you're not supposed to be up yet!" She disregarded his protests without thought. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.
"Oh God, Seany! He needs help!" Zara pulled herself out of the bed, stumbling a little. Sean reacted instantly, grabbing her before she fell. He was in a state near panic, though, and she didn't blame him. But she could not ignore the cries that were going on in the back of her head.
"Who? Damn it, Zara, what the hell is going on?"
"He's in trouble! He needs help! He needs... Me." She shoved him away from her and ran out of the room as much as her jello-like legs allowed.
Zara was not even aware of her surroundings as she ran. She didn't know where she was going, only that she get there. She heard nothing and saw nothing as she went; she was so focused on the one who was calling her. Finally, after what felt like hours later, she stopped in front of a nondescript building. It looked like any typical office, except perhaps a bit less cared for. It was no different from the four surrounding it. Except that this was where he was. Where he needed her to be.
Sean was beside her a second later, his breath still coming evenly, though hers was a bit strained. He shoved his hair out of his face and looked at the structure in front of them with disgust and anger.
"Ok. What the hell? Where are we, Zara?"
"Where he needs us to be." She answered simply, well aware of how cryptic she was being, but unable to answer his questions any better then that.
"And who is 'he'? I don't see anyone! Come on, Zara. You've been sick... You need to sleep some more. I'm sorry I let you out of bed. That was my fault. Let's go back, and get you better, ok? Then, if you still want to come out to this god-forsaken dump, we can spend the whole night here. Sound good?"
"No. Not yet. Just wait. He's coming." Even as she said it, she heard a door slam shut. Sean looked up with obvious surprise. A figure staggered out from the doorway. Zara darted forward, Sean at her heals, to help him.
He was white as a sheet, except where he was covered in blood. His own, Zara could tell from the smell. His head was as clean-shaven as the dark man's had been, but it was not nearly so smooth. Instead, it was covered with small, circular marks. In fact, his entire body was covered with them, she saw quickly. His body might once have been muscular, but was now dilapidated and nearly skeletal. His face was almost entirely cheekbone, and there were massive black circles under his blue eyes, which were misted over and unfocused.
Sean pulled off his shirt without a moment's hesitation and slipped it over the man's body, which was already shuddering with the coldness of the night. His skepticism forgotten for the moment, he slung one of the man's pitiful arms around his shoulders. Zara did the same with the other one. Without a word, the two of them helped walk the man back to what she now recognized as Sean's apartment. The man's body would, occasionally, be racked with sobs or fits of coughing, and Zara couldn't help but notice the speckles of blood that came spitting from his mouth with the latter. Nor could she fail to see the needle tracks running up and down the arm she held. Yet he did not seem like a junky. She could detect no signs of drugs on him. Rather, he seemed to be in shock. More importantly, she got some of the same sense off of him as she had from the dark man. The sense of being something... different. Something not quite human. As if reading her mind, Sean caught her eye while they helped him into the elevator.
"Zara, what is he?"
"Can't you tell?" She murmured. "He's one of us."
"But how? I mean... Look at him..." She knew what he meant. She had thought the same thing when she had first seen him. But she knew better.
"It doesn't change what he is. I can smell it in his blood. He's a vampire, Seany."