Night blanketed the small town like snow, flowing over the streets and houses, the illumination of the moonlight overhead lighting the shabby homes and private shops just enough to see their soft outline in the black. The weakly lit streets and sidewalks where occupied very little, only the occasional car passing through and then disappearing to get to the larger, working cities that lay past.
There was however an older teenage girl, walking swiftly through the dark as though she owned its beauty and elegance, as if she where born to the night itself. There was no mistaking this because her lithe, practiced movements where to be envied, quick but most perceptibly faultless.
Looking closer still you would see her beautifully enchanting face with eyes blue and bottomless as the ocean, a small smile playing out on her lovely fierce, features. Dark, silky hair hung to her shoulders, straight and short with luminosity.
This creature was unquestionably made of the night, made to walk its surface, made to control it and never be controlled by it.
This creature's name was Vershia, aged 17, or rather 571.
Her steps where sure and confident, but minutes later as she continued walking, she was felled.
A splitting, searing pain had erupted through her body, starting from her head and reaching down the very tips of her toes as though she'd been cruelly electrocuted.
Her vision swam before her, and then changed. There was water. She couldn't breath. It was sunny and hot, and yet she was wet and cold. She was looking for someone. Panicked. Afraid.
For nearly an hour she felt like this, pulling at her hair in pain and frustration as her normal senses slowly returned to her, the occasional electric jolt making her tense up uncomfortably. When she finally sat up straight she felt simultaneously sick and fiercely hungry, as she usually was after one of these painful episodes.
Almost instantly she knew there was something wrong. She knew who and where. Of course Fang couldn't die by being drowned, but she was still worried. First there where feeding matters to attend to, and then she would find Fang and Avon. They where undoubtedly together; They almost always where.
As though nothing had occurred, she continued at a run down the dark streets, slipping silently from the eyes of all but her impending victim.
Fang looked through the gap in the trees, silently noting the two police cruisers sitting in the drive of Alex's home. They looked almost intimidating to him, because it meant that not only had Danna noticed that Alex was gone, but she'd read the note as well.
Silently, he cursed himself for leaving it there. As long as they didn't believe that she'd murdered Jamie she might be able to return home…If not, that would be a problem. If she went to a juvenile facility, she wouldn't be ale to get blood. She would murder and then get murdered.
Therefore, there where no alternatives to turn to if they believed that she'd been murdered.
This he knew he would have to find out.
Quickly he jumped over a thick bit of brush and then ran across the yard, barely skimming the grass in his hurry. Nimbly, he climbed the tree that lead to her window, jumping through and landing noiselessly on the baize carpeting. Luckily there was nobody in the room, and he continued softly to the door. He heard nobody especially close so he opened the door and settled on the top step to listen to the voices below in the living room.
One was sobbing and female, so this was obviously Alex's mother. Two other voices where male, obviously police by the state of their authoritive, removed voices.
"Do you know where your daughter might be, Mam?"
A sobbing answer that sounded like a 'No.'
"Did she tell you she was leaving?"
"And you said earlier that she was going to Jamie's last week before you found her on the street?"
"Are you aware that Jamie Collins' body was discovered early this morning?"
A choked, horrified sob. More sobbing.
The police respectfully let her cry for a good amount of time before another man continued.
"It appears she was murdered, and this note says that your daughter may have had something to do with the murder. If we find your daughter unharmed we will have to take her in to a juvenile facility, and if we find something worse we will send someone to tell you. In the mean time we have Good day, Ms. Bevet."
There was the sound of more sobs, and then the door closing and cars driving away.
Seeing that there was nothing more to hear, Fang went back to her room and dropped from the sill, catching himself just before he met the ground.
Avon watched the sleeping Alex inquisitively, watching her toss and turn wildly, ensnaring herself farther in a mess of blankets. She hadn't awoken since they had brought her back to the prison, and since then she'd thrashed around, talking in her sleep and once crying. There was matted blood in her hair where she'd apparently been hit by a rock while was being thrown down the river, a few scratches on her hands and legs, and she was feverish and wet.
Looking at her now, he felt bad for the poor girl, trapped forever as a vampire. She was definitely not accepting it well; he remembered he'd almost relished his change. However it had been a very long time ago, and the memory was foggy and distant now so he could very well be wrong.
For a second he was surprised as her eyes fluttered and then almost opened, but then she shut her eyes tight again, as though in pain. In that moment he'd seen the strange quality of color in her eyes and then almost laughed. No wonder she was in such a bad shape; she hadn't had blood in over a week. Of course being a newly turned vampire meant that she didn't need as much blood as full vampires, but she still needed it every few days which she hadn't.
Avon was ejected from his thoughts when he heard her mumbling again, eyes still closed. There was a bunch of weird mumbles that he couldn't decipher, and then he heard a name quite clearly in the middle of it all. "Fang…"
He spoke allowed to her in reply one she'd fell silent, wondering vaguely if she could hear him in her coma-like state.
"You would think you would say something more like, 'Oh Fang, I love you so much'!" He pitched his voice mockingly at the sleeping figure, wondering when Fang would return.
He'd expected no reply, but then he heard her speak again, this time (strangely) "Avon..."
"What do you want?" He asked with fake irritation.
Nothing this time.
He began to turn to stare at an interesting bug on the wall, but before he could, her eyes opened.
This time they stayed open.
He was speechless, not knowing what to say to a suicidal, grief-stricken vampire that had just woken up next to another vampire whom had recently and accidentally taken part in the slaughter of her best friend.
For a minute or two she was silent, confused, hiding a pained-look that was both physical and mental. Then she sat up and saw Avon who was still staring at her dumbly. He half expected her to try to fight him or run.
However his shock was lengthened when she threw herself around him and began crying.
The first few seconds where pure shock, and the burning sensation of her warm skin on his.
At first he felt the instinct to gently push her away because of the aching hunger he felt at her touch, but instead he gritted his teeth and let her hang onto him. Avon was so badly tensed that drops of blood landed on the stone below, from his nails biting into his hands. His breathing became labored, his eyes turned slowly darker, and by now he didn't have the mind to push her away even though he needed to.
His limit was unquestionably reached if not passed, and he moaned at the mental pain that filled him, the blood lust that so cruelly tempted him, his pulse quickening, blistering white hot enticement filling his every thought and movement. Agitatedly, he became aware of how dry his mouth was, the starving sensations that needed to be filled, his passion, his very being, his reason for existence that all lay in the blood of which the girl before him had.
Alex's life teetered on less then a thread, yet she was to sickly and feverish there was no way she could have remembered not to touch Avon, no way she could have felt him shaking at her contact, no way she could have cared that she was almost about to die. At the time all she wanted to do was hang to someone like a child no matter what the cost, even death.
With all Avon's remaining humanity he wished for Fang to make his presence, to take her away so what he knew would happen, would not happen after all.
But it did.
Avon bit his lip, shaking violently and trying to stop himself.
He couldn't. He wouldn't.
Having held back so long, his attack was quick and almost knowingly malicious, and still holding the girl in that position he embraced her tightly, automatically biting at the base of the neck. In his haze he had expected a struggle…But it never came.
The hot, burning sensation of blood flooded his mouth, spilling onto her already-soaked T-shirt and numbing his mind completely. Even through his blood lust he felt a scorching hate towards himself, and even more so when she gasped slightly but didn't try to pull away from him.
Her blood was like boiling sugar on his tongue, sweet and saccharine but bitter when he remembered who it was coming from, flowing in sync with her heartbeat and pulse, all rapidly entwined with one another, sinuously spilling from her wound and mixing his own pulse with hers, everything seeming to combine and then repeatedly send numbing, fervent thrusts of something like an electric shock through his body. It didn't hurt, but it was strange. It was a new kind of vitality that shook him to the foundation of his passion for blood, chilled him with its unique dynamism.
In all of this he noticed that Alex seemed to only cling tighter to him as he killed her, just as Fang had told him she'd done to him when she'd been turned.
She had trusted Fang. Now she was trusting Avon.
The thought pained him and he forced himself to stop, retracting his teeth from her wound and furiously trying to get himself together. He knew he hadn't taken much blood, but in her current state even a little amount was bad.
His body seemed to burn with disgrace at his own weakness, eyes burning faintly as they changed color, his thirst controlled with no sign of permanence.
She was alive he was relieved to see, but still in pretty bad shape. Worse NOW. She was barely conscious, and although the infliction would usually cause a vast amount of pain, she ignored it for the most part, looking up at him almost apologetically.
She gave him a 'Don't-worry-it's-my-fault" look, and then said, "I'm sorry…."
He became further guiltier and livid; he was nervous and angry with himself, and as he paced the cell furiously, he heard Fang enter.
"Crap," he muttered to himself.
Fang entered the cell and then looked to Alex who was sitting up, awake but far from alert. Blood stained her clothes in a most obvious way, the marks on her neck horribly more noticeable when he entered.
At first he didn't register what had happened, but without words he easily figured it out.
First he rushed towards Alex and checked the state of the bites and then the head wound, and then turned to give Avon a 'What-the-hell-did-you-do-you-idiot' look, picking her up and delivering her back to the bed as he did so.
"I…She hugged me…." He finished lamely, looking apologetically at both of them, not trying to sound as though he where placing blame on Alex.
"I only took a little, I managed to pull away from her before I could do too much damage…But the problem is, she hasn't had blood in a week…And after this, she's really going to need it."
The way Fang's eyes widened a bit it was obvious that he'd forgotten that she still needed blood often, and he turned worriedly back to Alex again.
"Bite me again," He ordered her firmly, giving her his wrist
Unlike last time she complied without complaint, stopping easily after she bit because she was too weak to continue. Fang ignored the pain, knowing she needed the blood more then he did.
Through her pain she felt almost the same experience as Avon had, but she tried not to dwell on this fact.
After this was finished Fang lay with her, Alex curled against him, asleep, both still soaked from their plunge in the river.
Fang hadn't yet told her she couldn't go home. It would be foolish to ruin her life further with that vicious fact, especially when she was already sick and weak.
Avon lay against the wall, staring off into space and still looking remorseful at what he'd done.
For an hour it was like a photograph; unmoving, unchanging.
However the scene was tainted when Avon finally spoke in a whisper, his voice all the more audible in the warm silence.
"Vershia is coming."
Fang said nothing, and didn't question him as to how he knew; it was just a feeling.
However the silence that followed was much tenser, because they both knew that Avon's ex-mentor and Fang's ex-girlfriend where the same thing and they both knew that it would make things much more complicated.