-1The sound of knocking jarred me out of a light doze. God, did they expect me to not sleep, ever?

"Damien! Get your butt out here now!" my boss yelled at me through the door to my office.

I sighed. "Keep your pants on, Cass, I'm comin'." I knew that would really ruff up her fur. She hated it when I had the nerve to call her Cass.

"Damien Black, you have five seconds to open this door before I kill you." She meant it. She could. Female or not, Cassandra could pack a punch. You couldn't be a Slayer and not.

I flashed to the door and dodge her fist as it went past my head.

"Can I help you, Cassandra?"

She sighed at me like a child. "Yes, you can be doing your job, not lazing around in your office."

"I've been working my tail off for five days and got about two hours sleep in that time, I think I have the right to twelve hours of sleep." I growled.

She gave me one of her you're-on-my-nerves-and-I-might-kill-you looks, then put her hands on cocked hips. "Fine. After tonight you get a week off with pay, deal?"

I considered her for a moment. She could be pretty, if she tried, I thought to myself. She was thin, had waist-length red hair, the skin to go with it, and vivid green eyes. Her appearance screamed Irish, and as if she didn't look it, her last name was a dead give-a-way. O'Malley. I'd go for it. But she wasn't into guys. Such a shame it was, too. "Deal. What street am I workin'?"

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "Fitz Ave. Shift ends at dawn." Then she turned and walked back to her office.

I headed back into my office. I looked at my self in the mirror. Jet colored hair, dark blue eyes, and very pale skin. All natural, from what I am. A Slayer. Heaven sent to keep the vampire population under control. Not an easy thing to do. Filthy blood-suckers.

I pulled on my black cloak that concealed my weapons, stakes, and a special healing agent my sister, ever the herbalist, had made incase I ever needed it. I didn't. Slayers healed extremely fast. Then I headed out into the city.

All I felt was pounding. In my head, my body. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. I wanted to die, but that wouldn't happen anytime soon, not unless I had stopped being a vampire.

I felt my mouth. Fangs were where they always were. I tried to stand, my legs felt like lead, and all I wanted was to go home and sleep. Dying seemed to taxing right then.

I heard footsteps as I slid down against the building wall. It was a man. Pale skin, black hair, dark blue eyes. A Slayer.

He inhaled deeply then headed into the alley I had gotten myself into. His eyes caught my pale skin easily.

I growled at him, bared my fangs, then coughed. Deep and wet sounding. I tasted blood as it spilled from my mouth. It was my blood. I realized. I wouldn't die, my body would heal, could heal, from anything. Except a stake in the heart, or anything that stopped my heart from beating.

"Huh. Normally it's humans who are in this position, not vamps." he eyed the blood that dripped from my mouth, my fangs. Then at the blood soaking my tight white shirt and jeans. My hair, long and raven black, made darker and matted with blood. Not all of it was mine, I could hold my own against Slayers. There had been six of them. They had done what they wanted with my body, then beat me to a pulp.

I glared at him, then spat up more blood. "You come back to finish what they started, eh? Fine. Kill me, you'll be doing me a big favor. I'd rather be in Hell than right here."

My mind told me to stake her, she wanted to die, kill her. One less vamp to worry with. But I just couldn't. I looked at her face, covered with blood. Most of it from her mouth. She looked innocent, young. Like she was an old vampire, stuck with the looks of a child, on her feet she would come up to my neck, and I wasn't that tall.

"I won't kill you. You need help, my sister's a herbalist, she might help." I said, without thinking.

She coughed more, just a little blood spilled out. "I'll heal, Slayer. I don't need any help." She murmured.

I sighed. "You need blood, I know that much. You won't heal without it."

She blinked, slowly. She wasn't going to die, just suffer till she fed. "Was that an offer?" she whispered. Her eyes closed.

"Was that a vampire asking permission to feed off me?"

She nodded, slightly out of it. Then, she leaned her head back. She looked dead. The only way I could tell she was alive, was her blood-soaked shirt, rising and falling.

I sighed and lifted her up in my arms and headed toward the house my sister, Jenna, and I lived in.