Bring Your Own Vampire

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES THIS STORY IS CALLED BRING YOUR OWN VAMPIRE.....BASED ON THE NOVEL BY L.J. SMITH. ENJOY!!!!

~Dear Diary, Tomorrow is finally Halloween. I am so nervous! My stomach keeps twisting. My hands are shaking, and my palms are all sweaty. I keep thinking: What if it doesn’t work? What if I make a complete fool out of myself? What if he hates me? What if...? I’m just freaking out here! But at least I’ve got one thing going for me: my alibi. Since I’m forbidden to even talk to Nic, my mom’s dropping me off at Claire’s. She thinks I’m spending the night. Claire and her family think I’m only staying for a couple of hours and then leaving to go baby-sit my nephew. Instead, I’ll be going to Nic’s to begin the ceremony. I keep checking to see if I have everything; that I have my incantations memorized. I can’t help being so paranoid; I’m conjuring a very powerful and bad-ass vampire from another dimension. You’d think I’d be terrified of that, of the possibility of him killing me, but I’m more afraid of his rejection because of my... feelings for him. I think that if he were to laugh at me, that would be the worst. I think it would kill me. Great Moon, I’m so scared. But this is something I have to do. I have to or I’ll- ~ Hannah sat back abruptly and threw the diary on her bedroom floor. Her shoulder-length auburn hair fell into her eyes in soft waves as she drew herself to her feet to look in the mirror. “What am I thinking?” she asked softly, the words forming on her reflection’s full, pink lips. Her bright-blue eyes stared back at her, sad and self-deprecating. “Why would he ever give *me* the time of day?” It was true she wasn’t his type of girl, but she wasn’t a *total* leper. She was no bigger than perhaps Marilyn Monroe had been, maybe and inch or two taller. She was very curvy and voluptuous, having developed a woman’s body at a young age. She had nice bone structure and pale ivory skin that flushed easily. Many had told her she was beautiful, but she knew she would never be exotic or drop-dead gorgeous. She was beautiful in a distinctly Irish, charismatic, wears-her-heart-on-her-sleeve-and-soul-in-her-eyes kind of way. She refused to pretend she was something she was not, and that was part of the charm that drew people to her like a magnet. But that didn’t mean *he* would notice- or even be interested for that matter. Hannah sighed and shook her head. /Why am I always so hard on myself?/ She smile at her stupid question. /Because everyone else is. Because I’ve always had low self-esteem when it comes to guys/. Feeling stupid, Hannah looked at her toes, painted hot pink, and wrapped her arms around herself. There was a knock on her bedroom door and she turned toward it. “Come in,” she called. Her mother walked in, cigarette in hand. “I’m going to bed- so should you.” Hannah shrugged. “Whatever.” “Goodnight,” her mom said. “I love you.” “’Night.” Her mother frowned, but shut the door again as she flipped the light-switch off. Hannah sighed and threw herself on top of her bed, hoping she would get at least a couple hours of sleep before have to face the panic tomorrow would bring. Another sigh escaped her lips as she let her thoughts drift to ways she could welcome Damon, a tiny smile playing about her lips. Perhaps sleep would not be so bad tonight... --- “Thanks, but no thanks, Donavon,” Hannah said, faking politeness, her small hand resting on the doorknob. “My brother-in-law only lives a couple of blocks away. I’ll be fine walking.” Claire and Kennedy stood at the bottom of the staircase, giving her suspicious looks. “It’s broad daylight, mom,” Claire said. Donavon smiled. “Alright, then,” she said. “You just be careful.” “Yes, Mrs.- I mean, Donavon. I’ll do that.” Hannah groaned inwardly. She hadn’t expected it to take so long just to get out the door. “Bye, guys.” She opened the door and stepped into the overcast Portland day before Claire’s mother could ask any more questions. Hannah shivered at the cool October air and pulled her light sweater tighter around herself. She grabbed her backpack off the porch, which contained her overnight things and most of the supplies she would need for the ceremony and ran down the street. She turned the corner, walking past Edward Elementary School and then turned another corner, soon reaching a tall slate-blue house that served as the apartment building that Nic lived in. Nic stuck her head out of her bedroom window from up on the roof and waved. “It’s almost dark; you ready?” she called, her short green and black hair wild and tangled about her brown face. “As ready as I’ll ever be...” --- Hannah ushered Nic inside the circle and then closed the Northeast corner with her athame. Hannah took the candle that Nic held out to her and walked around the circle with it. She did the same with the cup of water, censor, and bowl of dried flowers. At last both girls sat down on the cushions they had laid on the ground opposite each other. In the center of the circle, between both girls, was a cauldron. In unison, they began the incantation to invoke the elements. [“Air, Fire, Water, Earth Elements of astral birth We call you now, attend to us! In the circle rightly cast Safe from psychic curse or blast We call you now, attend to us! From cave and desert, sea and hill By wand, blade, cup and pentacle We call you now, attend to us! This is our will, so mote it be!”] Hannah could already feel the power rising within the circle, within herself. She felt her hopes rise and she continued, completely in sync with Nic, who had just recited, [“Crescent one of the starry skies.”] Hannah added her own line, [“Flowing one of the ocean’s sighs.” “Flowered one of the fertile plain.” “Blessed one of the gentle rain.”] Their voices came together. [“Here our chant ‘midst the standing stones Waken us to your silver tones Be with us in our sacred right.”] Nic and Hannah both stood and took a palmful of powdered vervain from a small bag. Hannah closed her eyes and visualized Damon reincarnated from the flames of the cauldron. As she focused on her wish, she held the powdered herb up to her mouth and breathed softly upon it, trying to force the wish through her breath onto the herb. The girls turned to face the North and said, [“King Boreas of the North wind By the powers of earth We call you to carry our wish to the northern corner And by the powers of the gnomes We ask that you bring us success.”] Hannah blew a quarter of the herb from her palm in the direction of the North. They turned to the east and said, [“King Eureus of the East wind By the power of air We call you to carry our wish to the eastern corner And by the powers of sylphs We ask that you bring us success.”] Hannah blew another quarter of the herb to the east and then turned, facing the South. [“King Notus of the South wind By the powers of fire We call you to carry our wish to the southern corner And by the powers of salamanders We ask that you bring us success.”] She blew a quarter to the South. She turned to the West and in unison with Nic said, [“King Zephyrus of the West wind By the powers of water We call you to carry our wish to the western corner And by the powers of undines We ask that you bring us success.”] They blew the final quarter of the powdered herb to the West and then sat back down on their cushions. Hannah took a small slip of parchment and looked down at the red words /‘Damon Salvatore + Hannah Jean Homes’./ She spoke in a soft voice. [“My heart is strong My spirit is weak It is this man that I seek My heart doth burn within the fire So I may have my heart’s desire Bring together my prince and me 		Let him fall on bended knee I summon him to my side Bring together my prince and me 		My kingdom now I wish him to see Crossing history to my side From myself he will not hide.”] Hannah dropped the parchment into the cauldron. Then she and Nic said in unison, [“In this night and in this hour We call upon the ancient powers Bring us Damon Bring us the power of thee Powers of the witches’ rise Course unseen across the sky Come to us who call you near.”] They placed their hands over the cauldron and continued. [“Into this cauldron we do enchant Fetishes to bring corporeal form From flames that tower we add our chant To bring him here, whole and warm May these fetishes contain the power To make our ritual a success From this magick we will not cower Let him come so we can rest Ignite these symbols of our desire His body forms from within the flames Ensured his transformation by the fire Though he knows not of our claims These words will travel through the minds Of stubborn parties and unbind The thoughts too rigid to be kind A compromise they’ll disentwine.”] They added packets of different herbs and other fetishes they had consecrated earlier into the cauldron, naming each one and their purpose. When all the fetishes were in the cauldron, they said, [“This is our will, so let it be 		As we say, so mote it be!”] They each lit a match and threw it in the cauldron. There was a large burst of flame and they both took a quick step back on instinct. As soon as the flames had died down, they knelt back in front of the cauldron. As they poured more flammable liquid into it, they chanted, [“Hear these words, here our cry Vampire from the other side Come to us, we summon thee Cross now the great divide Beloved Damon Salvatore We seek your body, mind and soul We ask that you commune with us 		And move among us.”] They stood and each lit another match. [“Claw of pain we bring you here Damon you are here forever!”] As they threw the matches into the cauldron, Hannah’s voice rose above her friend’s. [“So mote it be!!!”] Hannah closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing and calm herself. The heat of the fire against her skin began to fade. For the life of her, she could not open her eyes. “Um... Hannah...?” Nic said, a note of fear and awkwardness in her voice. “Open your eyes.” Slowly, she obeyed, her eyes focusing instantly on the beautiful (and very naked) man before her. “Great Moon,” she sighed, her gaze traveling lower. His features were nearly perfect under a shock of dark, black hair- hypnotizing, midnight eyes, high cheekbones, full, sensual mouth. Just at the sight of his face, she wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. Her eyes made their way reflexively down his body, taking in lean, flat muscles and long legs. He had the body of an Adonis, and Gods, was he *beautiful*. Her inspection only took a few seconds and when she reached his eyes again, they were dazed and confused. “What-?” he began, but he was too weak. His knees hit the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. He let out a quiet groan, his hands clutching at tufts of grass. “Damon!” Hannah knelt down in front of his, cupping his cool face in her hands. He looked up at her, eyes dilated in bloodlust. His lips pulled back from his fangs in a savage animalistic snarl. She stroked his cheek gently with her thumb in understanding. She scooted in closer, cradling her body against his, fitting perfectly. She pulled her hair away from her neck and offered it to him. Without hesitation, he fisted a hand in her hair and buried his face in her neck, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to pull her even closer. He let out a soft growl as his lips met her throat and she resisted the urge to recoil at the sharp sting of his fangs piercing her flesh. But the pain faded almost instantly, only to be replaced by a feeling of intense pleasure and closeness she had only dreamt about. She laced her fingers through his silky hair and held his head to her neck, radiating her desire to sate his hunger, her happiness and her love. He pulled her tighter against his chest and buried his fangs deeper into her neck, his nails clawing at her bare arms. She moaned, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, her thoughts becoming slow and incoherent. At last, hesitantly, he pulled away. She rested her head sleepily against his chest, running her hands across his hard, cool shoulders. He seemed to come to himself at last. He looked down at her for a long moment before pulling away and glaring at her in fury. He lunged to his feet, his head whipping around to look at Nic and then back at the dazed red head on the ground. “What’s going on? Where am I?” he demanded, his low voice laced faintly with an Italian accent. Hannah stood shakily, feeling very light-headed, and stumbled. Instantly, Damon was there, his muscled arms steadying her. She leaned against him for support and groaned, holding onto his arms lightly. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She looked up at him with wide, luminescent eyes. He held her gaze, captivated. “/Scuzzi?/” She ran her hands up his chest and felt his nipples bead beneath her palms. His pupils dilated once again, but this time with a different kind of hunger. Lust. Suddenly she was unbearably aware of his naked body pressed lightly against hers. She fought the urge to press herself closer and pulled away. He frowned at the loss but quickly recovered. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by his state of undress. “If you come upstairs with me-us- I’ll explain everything... And we can find you some... erm... clothes to put on.” As if to emphasize her point, she looked downwards. He gave her an ingratiating grin. “Lead that way, /bella rossa./” Hannah barely contained the shiver that went up her spine. She looked past him. “Nic?” Nic walked past Damon and to the back door of her apartment building. She pulled her keys from her pocket and disappeared inside. Damon draped his arm around Hannah’s shoulders and followed Nic. Behind them, the fire flared up again. Hannah whipped toward it, cold with apprehension, but the fire was out and she could see nothing lurking in the shadows. “What is it?” Damon asked, glancing around, his eyes narrowed. “It’s... nothing,” she assured. “Come on. It’s cold out here.” - 	“They’re a bit big,” Damon said as he zipped up his borrowed pants. Hannah rolled her eyes and lay back on Nic’s bed. “I told you they would be.” Damon threw his shirt back on the dresser and sat next to her on the bed. “How about that explanation?” She sat up and gave him a quizzical look. “I’m surprised you’re so calm about this.” “I’m not the type to get too bent out of shape about anything.” “No,” she agreed, “you’re not.” She got up and picked up her backpack. When she sat back down next to Damon, she unzipped the bag, pulled out four well-read paperback books and handed them to him. “’*The Vampire Diaries’*?” he read. When he turned the book over and read the back, his eyes widened. “Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?” “No, Damon. You are... a character from a book- *those* books, and this... well, this is the real world,” Hannah said gently, placing a hand over his. He continued to stare at the books, his shoulders tense. “But... why? Why did you bring me here?” Hannah stood abruptly and paced the room, not looking at him. “Because I... I...” Damon rose after her. He placed his hands on her hips and turned her towards him. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and insistent. She sighed and gave herself up to her inevitable fate. “Because I fell in love with you.” Damon stepped back in surprise, releasing her. “You...?” “Yes,” she said, bowing her head. “I love you.” For a long moment, he was silent, but then he blurted, “*Why?*” Hannah let out a bitter laugh. “How could I not?” She looked up at him and cupped his face in her palms, her eyes burning with compassion and sincerity. “Damon, you are the most beautiful and amazing person I have ever known. You’re strong and passionate and independent. You’re the ultimate bad boy- in a good way. You’re charming, clever, and it doesn’t help that you’re absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. But most of all, you’re the only thing that’s made me feel in a long time.” Hannah blushed and looked down again, letting go of his face. “I know it’s insane. And I know you could never love me; I’m not your type of girl. But you have no idea how happy it makes me just to have you here, how much I- And you’re going to laugh at me now, aren’t you?” When Damon didn’t say anything, she chanced to look up. Damon’s mouth was slightly parted, his breathing labored. His eyes were widened slightly in surprise and- if she wasn’t mistaken- fear. “Damon?” His head whipped down to look at her. Hannah reached toward him, but he jerked back. His eyes flew to the open window. “I can’t,” he murmured. “I’ve never... And you...?” “Damon? Damon, please,” she pleaded. But Damon jumped out the window and disappeared in a flutter of great black wings. “*Damon!*” -- 	/Clink... Clink... Clink... Clink…/ “Mmm... what?” Hannah whined groggily, forcing herself to open her eyes as something clinked against the window again. /Clink!/ Hannah groaned and got out of the bed to open the window. Something small and hard hit her on the forehead. A pebble. “Ow! Ashton!” she said angrily, rubbing her forehead. She scowled down at the messy-haired teenage boy on the lawn. At the sight of him, a heavy gust of wind whipped against her cheek, sending a dark chill down her spine. “Ashton...? What d’ya want?” Hannah called down to him, puzzled and slightly unnerved. “I need to talk to you,” he called back, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his pants. “Please?” Hannah could never turn down a friend in need, especially Ashton. “Okay,” she answered at last. “Meet me at Edward’s in ten minutes.” She saw him give a small nod and she turned back into the small bedroom. She grabbed her black converse sneakers and slid into them and pulled her leather jacket on over her black nightdress before climbing out the window. Looking over the edge of the roof, she took a deep breath, muttered “here goes nothing”, and then she jumped. She landed flat on her behind in the soft grass, which, thankfully, had not been mowed in a long while. “I’m going to kill Ash,” she hissed, rubbing her bottom. “This is definitely going to leave a bruise.” Ashton stood waiting by the swings. Walking up to him, she looked into his dark brown eyes. They were so cold, so empty. For a minute, she was so taken-aback by their iciness that she couldn’t speak. “What’s up?” she asked finally, concerned. He shrugged and looked away. “Did you and Kenny break up again?” She swore she saw him smile slightly, but when he looked back at her, his face was a mask of ice. “And if we did?” he said quietly, carelessly. The feeling of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach grew. “What’s the reason this time?” she replied, sounding more calm than she felt. /What was wrong with him?/ She had never felt so uncomfortable around him, so... *frightened.* This time he did smile, a cruel twisting of his mouth. “My interest reside in another woman.” “Okay...” “Don’t you want to know who?” Ash moved closer, invading her territory, trapping her. His lips were inches from hers and she could feel his cool breath as he said, “It’s you, my love.” /You’re not Ash./ The realization hit her like a cold shower and her body tensed in awareness. Ash would never call he his *love.* Ash was never so cold or callous. /*You’re not Ash!*/ “How did you know I was at Nic’s house?” she asked quietly. “You told me,” he answered instantly. “Ages ago. Have you forgotten?” Hannah straightened up and faced the Ash-double stubbornly. “I never told anyone. Who are you? You’re not Ash. What have you done with him?” His laugh was as sharp and cold as a dagger. “Don’t you worry your pretty, little head over that. The boy’s fast asleep in his bed, no doubt.” Hannah shoved hard against his chest, terrified. He laughed again and grabbed a hold of her upper arms. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn’t break free. His grip was like a vise. “Who are you?” she demanded, giving up her struggles and looking up into that stony face. “I am Death,” he said arrogantly. “I am Fear. I am a nightmare’s nightmare, a devil incarnate. I am the purest of all evils.” He stepped away from her, releasing her arms at last. There was a bright flash and Ashton disappeared. In his place stood a tall man with eyes like liquid silver and hair as white as snow slicked back into a long ponytail. He was dressed in black robes of fine silk and his skin was the color of moonlight. Hannah couldn’t help but note that he was beautiful. In a sinister type of way. She felt every ounce of evil and power radiating from him. He’d let his shields down long enough to show her what he truly was and the aftermath left her skin prickling, as if it was being stuck by thousands of needles at a time. So much evil it made her sick. “*What *are you?” she choked out. “I am a warlock. A very powerful warlock. But I’m sure your psychic senses can already tell you that.” His voice was deep and rumbling, cruel and cutting and glacial. “I am *Marcellus*.” “What do you want with me?” “I want to know where the *vampire* is,” he hissed. “You conjured both of us, and only one of us can be here without destroying the balance. Only one of us can exist on this plane, and that *will be me*. Where is he? If you tell me now, I promise to make your death quick and painless. I just want to know where the half-breed bastard is.” Hannah’s hand came up of its own accord and slapped him, hard, across the face. She instantly knew it was a mistake, but she was instinctively defensive of Damon. “I will never tell you where Damon is. And threatening me will not work either.” “You little bitch!” he ground out, blood rising to his cheek where she’d slapped him. “You’ll pay for that!” He flicked his wrist at her and she felt a rush of magickal energy slam into her chest, sending her flying into the pavement. Marcellus lunged after her. Mid-lunge, he was knocked off course by a large black wolf. It growled furiously and tore at the fallen warlock’s throat. Still growling, the wolf shifted into human form. “Damon, no! He’ll kill you!” Hannah cried out, standing up quickly. Damon whipped his head toward her, black eyes blazing, mouth drenched in blood. “Stay out of this! You’ll only get yourself hurt!” he yelled. “*No!*” Unbidden, tears came to her eyes. “I can’t...” Marcellus flicked his wrist again and Damon went flying. He slammed into the brick wall beside Hannah. A stream of blood ran down his temple and he grimaced in pain. A few feet away, Marcellus stood up. “Damon!” Hannah ran to him, but he pushed her away and stood once more. He lunged at Marcellus again and the warlock made a slashing motion with his hand. Hannah could see the red magickal energy that burst from his fingertips and pierced through Damon’s left arms, leaving a bloody hole in its wake. “Oh, Goddess,” Hannah moaned. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nic running toward the fight, still in her pajamas. Damon was on the ground just a few feet away; Marcellus towered over him, prepared to make the last devastatingly fatal blow. “I have to do something!” she growled. Hannah didn’t even need to think. She heard Nic scream, heard Damon shout, “*NO!*”, but she still thrust herself in front of him. She found herself immersed in a red glow as she was hit square in the chest, doing to her what it would have done to Damon. She fell back against the shell-shocked vampire, feeling her blood pool beneath her. “Hannah,” Damon whispered, though it sounded far away. Marcellus’ face twisted in anger and shock, his eyes widening in disbelief. “What have you done, you stupid girl?! Why?! Why would you save that *monster*?” She looked up at him unflinchingly. “Because I love him,” she whispered hoarsely. It was that simple. “Well then you can join him in Hell!” Marcellus raised his hands again. “I’ll kill you both!” “*NO!*” Hannah cried, forcing herself into a sitting position. “Not if I can help it! [‘I am protected by your might O gracious Goddess, day and night Thrice around the circle’s bound Evil sink into the ground!”] Marcellus paused, as if he were stuck to the ground, but with a slight effort, took one step toward her. “It seems the little witchlet is weakened. Can’t even cast a simple protection spell? Pity.” He threw his head back and laughed. Damon’s fingers laced through hers and she felt wave after wave of his power course into her. “*I SAID /SINK/, GOD DAMNIT!!!*” she thundered. And that he did; just disappeared into the cement so fast he didn’t even realize it himself. “Bastard,” she murmured, suddenly feeling very tired. Damon was cradling her gently in his arms, the lines of pain evident on his face. “You are so stupid,” he whispered. She smiled slightly. It was all she could manage; she hurt too much. And everything was becoming so dark. “Nic, go call 9-1-1,” Damon commanded. “And get some towels to stop the bleeding.” Hannah looked up into Damon’s eyes. Despite his hopeful words, she saw that he knew. She would die before help came. “Damon...” she croaked, so softly it was almost inaudible, but he heard her. Those ebony eyes met hers, intense and determined and desperate. “I can save you,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically husky. “But I don’t know if that’s what you want.” A few tears leaked out of her eyes and onto his shirt where her face met his chest. “I don’t want to die,” she pleaded. He ran his fingers tenderly through her hair. “I won’t let you, then,” he promised. He bent his head and kissed her softly of the lips before pulling back to remove his shirt. A small cut on the base of his throat welled up with blood. He leaned over her and she pressed her lips to the cut. As she sucked, she felt herself grow weaker, her life ebbing. Distantly, she heard sirens and then her heart slowed to a stop and the world faded away. Suddenly she woke. At least, she *thought* she was awake. Everything was pitch-black around her. And cold, so very cold. She lazily stretched out her hands, reaching above her head into the darkness. And hit cold metal. She could feel the same metal at her back where she lay. It was some sort of long, steel, *enclosed* box. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled the scent of the metal all around her. Her nails clawed at the metal above her in panic and she heard the hesitant thud of footsteps in response to her scratchings. Some small, insistent part of her demanded that she stop. She was supposed to be *sleeping*, it said. And she instinctively obeyed. Above her head, the box opened and she felt herself pulled from it as if on a metal slab. She felt bright fluorescent lights flash against her eyelids and sensed a person lean over her. /How funny../ She could hear their heart beating frantically, smell the stench of their fear, nearly taste the blood flowing in their veins. And she was *hungry*. She heard the man slowly sigh out his breath in relief and start to move away. Her eyes snapped open and she lunged at him, wrapping her hands around his neck. He tried to scream but her fingers had already crushed his windpipe and seconds later, her fangs ripped deliciously into his throat. Blood filled her mouth and soothed her burning throat. It was so warm, so rich. Forbidden. It was ecstasy. *Life*. She drank until his veins were dry, until she was full to bursting, dropping his lifeless body carelessly on the ground. She slid soundlessly from the metal slab, the new life still thrumming in her veins, making her feel giddy and strong. She looked around the bright room. Everything was silver and shiny. And it smelled strongly of chemicals and death. The Morgue. Panic flooded her again. She looked into the reflective surface of a metal door... and gasped. It wasn’t *her* reflection! But when she pressed her hand to the door, the strange girl in front of her did too. It couldn’t be her... The girl had her glossy auburn hair that fell just past her shoulders. But her breast were slightly smaller and perfectly round, just above a tiny waist, flat belly and narrow hips. Her thighs were strong and toned, her legs long. She looked into the reflection’s face. The eyes were the same startling blue with a lingering sadness. The same full pink mouth. And that was her nose, upturned and elven, only smaller. Her cheeks were thinner, her eyebrows perfectly arched and golden, like her eyelashes. Her skin was a flawless porcelain, even paler than it had been before and unmarked by blemishes or scars. But it still *couldn’t* be her... Her breath came in shallow gasps of anxiety. /What had happened?/ She couldn’t remember. All she knew was that she was scared and alone. /*What was happening?!*/ She let out a small sob and pressed herself into a corner, sliding down the cool wall and pressing her head against her bare knees. She shook from head to toe and all she could do was sit there as one thought entered her mind: /Damon./ Damon walked silently but lithely down the hall to the city morgue. He was late. He hoped she hadn’t woken yet, or worse, been found by Marcellus. If she was disoriented... He didn’t want to think of what trouble she could get herself into. Inside the morgue, he instantly saw the mortician dead on the ground. She was awake. He found her huddled in the farthest corner, arms wrapped around her naked body. She was different, physically. Still beautiful. But he knew it was her. And she was shivering. From cold or fear, he couldn’t tell. Most likely a mixture of both. When he knelt before her and stroked her cheek with his thumb, she jumped slightly, but then she realized it was him. She sighed his name and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. He tensed slightly as she pressed herself against him, at the feel of her breasts rubbing against his chest, and the soft, giving flesh beneath his hands. “Damon,” she sighed again, trying to get closer. “Shh,” he soothed, running his fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, /rossa/. I’m here.” He pulled away and looked down at her. “Let me get you something to cover you up,” he said, and stood. She let out a sound of protest and reached out for him. He grasped her hand lightly for a moment. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” He took the white lab coat from the mortician and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled up at him gratefully and began to clumsily button up the over-sized coat. He turned back to the man’s corpse and lifted him onto the empty steel slab, draping him in the white body sheet and sliding the slab into darkness. He shut the metal door with a resounding click. Hannah got to wobbly legs and stumbled into Damon’s arms. “Careful,” he said, holding on to her tightly. She leaned her head against his chest and sighed contentedly. “Come on; let’s get you someplace safe.” She hesitated and placed a hand on the body locker in front of her- the one with the mortician inside, and pulled out the body. “Hannah?” She ignored him and picked up a scalpel off a small tray a few feet away. She looked at the sharp blade for a minute, transfixed, before moving back to the mortician. But when she ripped open his expensive-looking dress shirt and pressed the blade to his left pectoral, Damon placed a halting hand over hers. It remained there for a long moment, but then slid away, deciding to let her have her way. The blade slid into his skin with surprising ease and little blood. She carved the symbol slowly and carefully, a symbol for her new state of existence; the first thing that came to mind. The Chinese symbol for holy mother. And on the left side. The side for evil. She smiled at her handiwork and slammed the body all the way back into its locker. She dropped the bloody scalpel on the floor. Damon watched her warily, but when she melted into his arms once again, he decided to let it go for the time being. He had to get her out of there before someone came along. “We can’t be seen,” Damon explained as he ushered her to an open window, “by anybody; not with you in a lab coat and nothing else. Do you think you can climb through this window?” In answer she pulled herself up through the window. The window was ground-level and the grass beneath her hands was wet. Her knees sunk into the mud. It must have rained. She heard Damon climb out the window behind her. The next moment, he was steering her toward a black Mitsubishi Eclipse and opening the door for her. “I stole it,” he said as she eyed him suspiciously. “Get in.” Inside, she didn’t even bother to buckle her seat belt as she stuck her hands deep into the pockets of her lab coat. She pulled out a large leather wallet. Inside was the mortician’s license: Robert K. Liechtenstein; and 200+ dollars in cash, not to mention all the credit cards. She fanned the green bills out and grinned. She liked money. “We’re here,” Damon announced, interrupting her inspection. She looked up at the tall building. The Embassy Suites Hotel. She’d been there, but she couldn’t remember when. Stuffing the wallet back into her coat, she took the hand Damon offered and stepped out of the car, allowing him to lead her through the extravagant lobby, past prying gazes and into a beautifully elegant suite on the top floor. Her eyes widened in awe and she drew in a sharp, gleeful breath, spinning in circles to look around like a little child would, trying to get a 360 degree view of the room. Finally she plopped down on the king-size bed and sighed. It was so comfortable. The bed sank beneath Damon’s weight as he sat down. She opened her eyes and grinned up at him toothily, showing small, pointy white fangs. He smiled back hesitantly. “Get some rest, /rossa/. You’ll need it.” She frowned. She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to go out, hunt, use her new vampiric senses. But his jaw was set and the look in his eyes was firm. Her mouth quirked mischievously. /I can change that./ “What’s that look about?” Damon asked wearily. She pulled back on his shoulders and made him lie beside her. “Hannah-” He broke off with a soft groan when she nipped teasingly at his neck and slipped her hands beneath his shirt to rake her nails lightly down his chest. He arched himself harder into her nails, but before he could allow her to do more, he rolled on top of her and restrained her arms above her head. She struggled uselessly beneath him. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, /rossa,/” he said quietly. “After you’ve had some rest... then we can do whatever you please. But right now, just get under the covers and get some sleep. Please.” He kissed her softly on the forehead before standing up and saying, “I’m going to take a *cold* shower. When I come out, you’d better be in that bed and fast asleep.” With that said, he shut the bathroom door behind him. A moment later, she heard the roar of the shower and the tantalizing slide of a zipper- things she never would have heard as a human. She liked it. She sighed disappointedly and climbed beneath the covers, her body filled with a near-unbearable tension. But as soon as her head hit the soft pillow, she was out like a light, not even waking when Damon climbed into the bed next to her, his Jean-clad thighs rubbing against her bare ones as he settled himself beneath the blankets. --- Hannah woke slowly, feeling slightly disoriented. /Where am I?/ She sat up groggily and placed a hand against her forehead. A soft breeze flew across her bare chest. Off to her right, she heard curtains flutter. And then she shot out of bed, eyes wide in shock and pain. Across her arm was a burn mark, bright red and searing. She looked from her arm to the bed where a ray of sunlight hit the spot where she had been sitting. She backed into a wall and slid to the floor. Memories came flooding back to her: /the ritual... Marcellus... Damon’s lips brushing against hers... waking up in the morgue and- OH, GODS, she’d killed a man./ And now she was hyperventilating. Damon had turned her into a vampire in order to save her life. And the look on his face... She smiled faintly. He cared. For now, she could believe that. It helped calm the raging storm inside of her. Still thinking of Damon, she took a deep breath and made her way to the bathroom, carefully avoiding the pools of sunlight stretching across the room. She left the door cracked slightly and then turned to the sink. As she splashed a bit of cold water on her face, she heard the quiet click of the suite door. There was a rustle of bags and a tired sigh. With forced patience, she dried her face and stepped back into the bedroom. Instantly her sense were overloaded with *Damon*. His scent, the sound of his heart beating, the mere sight of him; it all seemed to be heightened, drowning her in the wonder that was him. She leaned against the wall, weak with desire. “How are you feeling?” he asked, setting the shopping bag down on the bed. /Wouldn’t you like to know,/ she thought wryly. “I’m... fine.” At his skeptical look, she added, lip quirking, “Or, at least, I will be.” She wanted to go to him; have him wrap her up in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right, that he would take care of her. It wasn’t pride that stopped her, though. It was the fact that the curtains decided to shift at that moment so that the sun blocked her in her little corner. “Uh... a little help here?” she cried out, pressing herself flat against the wall. Damon laughed. “And I should do that because...?” When she shot him her iciest of glares, he shrugged, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “And hurry,” she added hastily. He reached for a small shopping bag. He pulled out a silver ring and held it up, showing her an inset gemstone, midnight blue and about the size of her pinkie nail. Lapis Lazuli. She relaxed slightly; any more and she’d be in the sunlight, which was steadily getting closer. Damon took her left hand and slid the ring onto her third finger. It was a perfect fit. He pressed his lips to her palm briefly, then took a step back. Hannah tested the pool of sunlight with her foot, and then, feeling nothing, immersed herself completely in the golden rays. “Aack! Bright!” she hissed, shielding her eyes from the sun. “*Sssssssss.…*” Damon pulled her back into the twilight. “That’s where the other bags come in. Sit.” She obeyed. Kind of. She thought it better to lay down. On the bed. Damon gazed at her heatedly for a minute or so, realizing she no longer wore the lab coat from the night before. “Well?” she asked innocently. “Show me.” He smiled. “As you wish.” He took the big shopping bag and turned it upside-down, dumping its contents on the bed. “I didn’t know what color you’d like, so I thought black would be the safest bet,” he explained nonchalantly. Hannah snorted. “And I’m sure your own love of black didn’t come into the mix at all,” she said, her voice laced thoroughly with sarcasm. “Well, maybe just a little,” he admitted. She sat up and motioned for him to sit next to her. After a brief hesitation, he gave in and then urged her to look at her presents. She took her time examining each article of clothing with eager fascination. A pair of low-rise jeans. Black. A black lace camisole. A minidress. Black. Some panties(mainly thongs, she noticed with amusement). Sunglasses. And two pairs of shoes: stilettos and converses. Also all black. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn this much black in my life,” she mused. But she was grateful to have some clothing. She kissed Damon on the cheek. “Thank you.” She took the jeans and camisole and slipped them on. She could feel Damon’s gaze on her, making the task that much harder. She turned to the mirror and nearly gasped. It was the same girl from the morgue, only now she looked sleek and dangerous all in black. A hunger lingered about her face, in the sullen pout of her lips and the heavy-lidded gaze that seemed to see everything and nothing all at once. She held herself with a confidence and power she never knew she possessed. Her movements were lithe and sultry and amazingly precise. “Well, I never expected to see the day when I’d look like this. I finally look like a part of my family,” she murmured, still staring at her reflection in awe. “Damn, I’m hot.” “I agree,” Damon said softly, drawing her attention away from the mirror. She turned to him, smiling. “Are you hungry?” She gave him a thoughtful look. The thought of feeding should have disgusted her, but it didn’t. The possibility of her hunting and sating her hunger with Damon, having him share his knowledge with her, his life, made her stomach twist in excitement and her mouth water in anticipation. “A little,” she said shyly, wrapping her arms around herself. As much as she wanted it, she was still new to this. In one graceful movement, he was off the bed, his arms embracing her. “You’ll get used to it in time, /rossa,/” he soothed. It was amazing, how well he understood her. “You’ve just got to figure out your way.” She shivered. “I think I might have already,” she murmured. At his questioning look, she elaborated, “at the Morgue. Marking my victims.” “Whatever you want,” he sighed, looking at her as if she were insane. She pouted at him. “Why not? Is it so wrong that I want to be special. Seeming as, technically, I *am* the mother of all vampires. I want my prey and my fledglings to be distinguishable.” “And what am I?” he said, feigning offense. “Well, it does take two to make a baby...” “And *technically* you were that baby,” he rationalized, smiling slightly. “Doesn’t this all remind you of some sort of trailer trash bit?” she asked, smiling herself. “Maybe just a little.” “Then maybe we should just-” “Shut up?” At her nod, he added wickedly, “and find something more fun to do with our mouths...?” Hannah’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “But I’m *hungry*,” she mock-whined. He shrugged. “What are you hungry for?” he said seriously. The smile she sent him was purely feline. “I’m thinking something... Italian,” she drawled. /She learns fast/, Damon thought with pride as she pressed him down onto the bed and straddled him. She sighed, melting into his arms as his kiss exploded across her senses. Great Moon, he was magnificent. No doubt centuries of practice only helped to refine his natural talent. He turned them over so that he was laying on top of her between her thighs and slowly ran his hand up under her shirt. Her nipples beaded beneath his palm, causing her to sigh and arch beneath him. She sat up slightly so he could pull her shirt off over her head and then fell back onto the bed when he confidently found one breast and then the other with his mouth, expertly stroking her with his tongue. She clutched his head to her breast, savoring the feel of his body against hers. And to think, she’d have an eternity to memorize all the curves of his body. When Damon sat back, she let out a sound of protest. He placed a quieting finger over her lips, smiling slightly. She nipped at it. “Shh,” he soothed. “I’m just taking my clothes off.” She eagerly sat up to watch. Noticing her fascination, his mouth quirked in a sly grin. Slowly he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing, bit by bit, smooth tantalizing skin. Finally he parted the lapels of his shirt and she was greeted with perfectly, his muscled biceps and washboard abs. He moved to the fly of his pants, his fingers moving over the button and to the zipper. He unzipped it slowly./ Click. Click. Click./ The sound of metal on metal was more felt than heard. He turned his back to her, smiling back at her over his shoulder as he murmured, “No peeking,” before inching those impossibly tight pants down past firm, round bottom and long, toned legs. When he faced her yet again, she moaned. Even though she had seen him before, it seemed as if she had really been paying attention, and the sight set her body on fire. She looked down and nearly gasped. /How is *that* supposed to fit?!/ As if sensing her thoughts, he moved forward, lithe as a panther stalking its prey. Before she knew it, her jeans were on the floor and she was pressed flat into the mattress beneath him, bare flesh to bare flesh. Her fingers gripped at his biceps. Her thighs clenched around his hips in anticipation. She bit her lip, waiting. But he just lay there, looking down on her. She looked up into his fathomless eyes in curiosity and saw that they were filled with strange lights. She felt as if she could fall into their depths and just keep on falling forever. Entranced, she began to relax, and then melted when he lowered his lips in a sweet, comforting kiss. She didn’t know when he entered her; there was no pain. But when he finally pulled his mouth from hers and began to thrust, she felt his cock stretching her, filling her deliciously. Pleasure erupted within her, making her squirm and moan in delight. Stars were flashing before her eyes. She was in bliss. The only problem was: he was moving too slow. Slowly rocking in… then out… in… out… in… She slid her hands to his hips, demanding he move faster. He ignored her, face taut with control, and kissed her neck. “Damon,” she hissed. His teeth grazed across her nipple before taking it deep in his mouth. She moaned and slapped him sharply across the bottom. “Faster,” she insisted. “Patience is a virtue, /bella/,” he groaned, her slap having pushed him deeper. “Yeah, well you can take your virtue and shove it up your ass.” she said through clenched teeth. “Harder.” With a grin, he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head in one of his hands. “You want it hard?” he challenged huskily. Hannah’s heart thudded in her chest. “Yes.” He thrust into her hard to the hilt. Once. Her breath hitched in her throat. He withdrew, her muscles clenching at the loss. And then he thrust again. Harder. Her head thrashed against the pillow in wanton desire. “Faster,” she moaned. “Yes,” he said hoarsely, teeth bared, eyes burning. And then his control broke loose, and with a possessive, hissing-out of breath, he pounded into her, hips pistoning recklessly. This time she screamed. Behind her, the headboard collided with the wall. Her legs became tangled with the sheets. Damon’s teeth were on her throat, bruising her. She wanted so desperately to touch him, to run her hands down his sweat-slicked back, kiss him as he was kissing her. But he still restrained her hands above her. She was so close to the edge now, twisting and shaking and screaming her voice hoarse. Damon could tell. He himself didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. He’d meant for her first time to be gentle, but that was a lost cause. They needed a release. Now. He slid his hand down her quivering belly to stroke the tiny, hidden nub just above where he thrust into her. She cried out. Beneath him, her body tightened, and for a second, her movements stopped, only to be replaced by violent tremors that shook her body, the bed, and him. He continued to thrust for another long moment, before his own body exploded in an ecstasy so sweet, it was beyond words, drawing from him a wave of heat and completion. He groaned, a low rumble deep within his chest. Hannah was limp beneath him, gasping for breath. He looked down at her reflexively and his heart muscles clenched painfully. God, she was beautiful. Not because of the change- though that was amazing too- but because of something inside of her. Something that he knew only he could bring out. Her eyes shone with passion, intensely blue with love. Her skin, flushed pink and cover with the soft sheen of sweat, glowed from a fire within. She looked vulnerable and delicate and fierce as a lioness and he had never seen anything more breathtaking this girl- no, woman- after making love to her. And it made him swell with pride and possessiveness to know that *he* had been the one to do that to her. “Damon,” she sighed, looking back at him with glazed eyes. Her parted lips, swollen and red as holly berries from his kisses, drew his gaze. Mercy, help him. He wanted her again. But she was too wrung out, he knew that. He moved away, his body nearly spasming at the loss and ran a hand through his hair. Hannah frowned at Damon. She forced herself into a sitting position and propped her chin sleepily on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing herself against his back. Damon chuckled and placed his hands over hers. “You said earlier you were hungry,” he said lowly. His voice still had the lingering traces of sex. She realized now what the heavy, throbbing feeling in her mouth was. She pressed the tip of her tongue to one elongated fang and felt her stomach tighten. She was *starving*. And while sex with Damon had sated one hunger- kind of- it had only increased another unbearably. She bit into his shoulder lightly. “Mmm, definitely,” she murmured, ignoring her bloodlust for the moment so she could tease. She ran her hand down his stomach so that she could cup him in her palm. He was hard again. She smiled against his back, flicking her thumb against the tip of his cock. He growled. “That’s not what I meant,” he said tightly. She giggled. “I know,” she said, pulling away. “I just love to torture you.” She stood and began to put her clothes back on. Damon lay back on the bed, erection standing at attention. “I can see that,” he muttered moodily. She fought the urge to pounce on him, take his cock into her mouth and… She shook her head slightly and pulled on her shirt. Fully dressed, she turned to him and said seriously, “I’m starving. Where do you want to go hunting?” He smiled at her, a mischievous lilt to his dark eyes and glanced at the open window. Sometime during their lovemaking it had turned to night. He decided that would be best for her first night of hunting. He held out his hand to her. “I think it’s time I teach you how to hunt.” -- The club was one she had never been to, even though it was one of the most popular in town. Half-naked women and horny men filled the darkened dance floor end to end. “I *love* it!” she yelled to Damon over the loud music and thrumming bass. He draped an arm over her shoulders. “Pick a victim, any victim,” he said, as if this were all a game, and one he enjoyed very much. “Umm…” She inspected the crowd thoroughly, feeling picky. She spotted a dark-haired, 20-something that caught her eye. She smiled brightly. “I pick that one,” she said, eyeing the specimen hungrily. “Not a bad choice. Here’s what you need to… “ He trailed off as he looked to his side. She had disappeared. “Well,” he huffed, offended. She had already stricken up a conversation with the boy. He felt a wave of irritation at her independence, but quickly stifled it. That didn’t mean she’d leave him so soon, not when he was just becoming so attached to her. An insistent tap on his arm drew him away from his depressing thoughts. He looked down into a face with too much makeup and a body with too little clothing. He fought the urge to grimace; she was still food. “Hey there, handsome,” the blonde said, batting fake eyelashes. “Would you like to dance?” He shrugged slightly. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. He took her willing hand and led her out back into an alleyway. Hannah was already there, her victim dead on the ground. Damon passed a look to her, silently telling her to stay back. The girl beside him opened her mouth to scream, but he pounced forward, graceful and precise, burying his fangs deep into her neck. And then there was only the sound of drinking. Hannah watched him in fascination. The way he moved to take his prey was pure art. And he was so beautiful, even when he dropped the nameless girl to the ground, his blazingly white fangs glittering in the darkness, his mouth stained with blood. She felt a surge of affection for him, her hunting partner. This was her life now, and she would not want to share it with anyone else. “You missed a spot,” she said softly, moving over to him.. Slowly, she traced her thumb across his lips, wiping the blood away. His mouth parted and he drew his tongue across the pad of her thumb. His eyes, growing heavy-lidded, were on hers. He wrapped long, slender fingers around her wrist and kissed her palm. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, lips brushing against her wrist. She shivered and leaned into his chest. “Yes, let’s go home,” she whispered. Home. She’d found a home at last. “And then we need to talk,” he went on, hugging her closer to him. “Come on.” As they left, he absentmindedly glanced at her prey. His eyes were open, lifeless and staring off into space. And on his chest, where his shirt lay open, was her symbol carved deeply into the muscle. Damon groaned inwardly. This was her choice, t that didn’t make it any less stupid. One day she would be traced- whether by the police, townsfolk or hunters, it didn’t matter. They would kill her, and he might not be able to save her. Hannah’s impatient tugging drew him from his worries, and he could not disobey the demands of his body any longer. He needed her again. ____________ 	“He’s still here, isn’t he?” were the first words out of his mouth when he entered their hotel suite. Hannah sighed and sat down on the couch. “Of course he is, Damon,” she said. “All I did was trap him in the ground. He’ll find a way out eventually- if he hasn’t already.” “And what do we do when he does?” “Well, I haven’t exactly thought about that. I’ve been a tad preoccupied, what with my dying and all.” Damon took a seat next to her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m afraid I won’t be of much use magickally,” he said softly. “I have strength and magickal energy, but its not for fighting warlocks.” Her face brightened in comprehension. “But I can tap into that energy. I did before when I sank Marcellus.” She sat up straighter. “If I can do that again- I mean, a normal banishing wouldn’t be strong enough- but if we can combine our strengths- I could do a mash-up of protection and banishing spells- maybe some hexes or binding rituals-” “Hannah, slow down; you’re hurting my head,” he teased lightly. “What are you getting at?” “We can beat him! If you’ll trust me, that is. It’ll be a piece of cake,” she said earnestly, practically bouncing in her seat. “Are you sure?” She nodded. “What do you need to… do whatever it is that you’re going to do?” “Well, hopefully everything I need should be at the local occult shop, Moonshadow,” she said thoughtfully. “But I don’t think I have enough money to get everything…” “Who said anything about money?” Damon said slyly. “But- but-” “We’ll go right now.” “But its closed… Damon! Damon, get back here!” Hannah ran after him out the door. “We can’t just break in! That’s wrong! Damon!” He stopped so abruptly that she ran into his back with a small “oof”. “Do you have a better idea on how to get what we need? And quickly?” he said. “Fine,” she conceded. “But this is going to be murder on my karma.” Damon raised a sardonic eyebrow at her. “Murder, you say?” “Oh, shut up, you! Let’s just get this over with! And I want to check on Nic, too.” “Hannah, you are one of the most… *interesting*… women I’ve ever had the pleasure to fuck.” He grinned at her. “And to think I fell in love with you! I’m so hurt!” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I demand an apology!” “If you insist, my lady,” he murmured, before his mouth descended upon hers. Moonshadow could wait for the moment. “Would you relax?” Damon hissed, dragging her up the dark stairway. “But what if the owners are still here? Or there are security cameras? Or an alarm?” she squeaked. “We’re going to get caught!” Damon groaned. “No one is here. I would have sensed them. We can’t be seen on cameras. And I disabled the alarm before we entered. We won’t get caught. Now would you *calm down and get your things*!” He was quickly losing his patience with her. He could understand how her religious morals still held strongly with her but he was too tired, too hungry, and way too horny to let her whine all night when there were things needed to be done. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It just doesn’t feel right.” He opened his mouth to make a scathing remark, but she had already pushed past him and began to gather an assortment of herbs. “I’ll get some bags,” he offered. He found some behind the cash counter and brought them to her. She threw the packets of herbs in the proffered bag. He followed her around the store as she continued to place an assortments of oils, gems, books and candles in the bags. “I think that should be enough,” she said absently, moving to the cash counter. She set down a wad of green bills, then pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “What are you doing now?” Damon asked wearily, looking over her shoulder. “I’m torturing a rabbit. What does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped. “It looks like you’re about to do something stupid,” he said. “I’m writing an I.O.U.,” she said. “It’s just something I need to do, Damon, so just let it be.” That shut him up. Hannah went back to her note and quickly jotted: ~“Emergency. Will pay back and some. IOU:$138. Blessed Be, HH”~ Hannah turned back to Damon. “Can I meet you back at the hotel?” At his incredulous look, she added hastily, “I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to check up on Nic and talk with her.” He shrugged and took the bag of magickal goods from her. “Fine, but if you’re not back by three, I’ll come looking,” he warned. She grinned up at him. “I don’t know if that will be enough time. Our hot lesbian sex can be quite time-consuming.” His eyebrows quirked up in interest. “Really now? Perhaps I should come along and make sure everything’s all right?” She chuckled. “You are such a man.” “How else could you possibly want me?” He flashed her one of his rare and very charming smiles. “True, true.” He bent his head and kissed her softly. “Be safe,” he murmured. “With you, I am.” --- 	/Tap-tap-tap… Tap-tap…/ The light that suddenly flooded the attic blinded Hannah momentarily, and she nearly fell from where she was perched on the windowsill. A disheveled and half-asleep Nic stumbled to the window to open it. “Wha- Hannah…? Is that you?” she said through a yawn. “Yeah. Can you invite me in? This isn’t exactly the most comfortable position in the world.” “Um… sure.” There was a long pause. “Well?” Hannah hissed. “Oh! Sorry,” the human girl said sheepishly. “Come in.” Hannah fell through the window, no longer supported by the invisible barrier. “Thanks,” she groaned. Nic helped her off the ground. “You look awesome, Han! So he turned you, then?” “Obviously.” “Well, I didn’t know for sure. I figured he must have when the news said your body had gone missing from the morgue. But I can’t believe he did; he ran away from you. He’s taking care of you, I assume? It’s just a bit odd. He obviously must care about you if he saved you. He could have just let you die,” Nic said, sounding the most logical that she ever had. “I-I never thought of it that way…” Hannah was a little disturbed. Could her really care for her? It wasn’t just sex for him? “I’m glad you came back. I never got to say goodbye,” Nic said quietly. “Hey, kiddo, don’t do that. I’m going to be here. For an eternity, actually. We can still hang.” The green-haired girl visibly brightened. “Really? Yay-zor!” Hannah chuckled. “I actually came here to check that you were okay. You are, aren’t you? Marcellus hasn’t been around?” Nic shook her head. “I’m fine. That guy’s still here? What are we going to do?” “Don’t worry,” the red-head soothed. “Damon and I are handling it. But just in case Marcellus decides to attack you, I wanted to make sure you were well-protected.” “How will you do that?” Hannah pulled a necklace of tiger’s eye and what looked to be carved with runic symbols from her pocket. “This is a protective necklace. It should protect you from any malicious magickal energies. I’ve also changed it so that if you’re in danger, it will alert me and I’ll be able to help you.” Nic took the necklace and put it on. “That’s it?” “No. I also want to do a protection spell on the house so nothing bad can get in. If you’ll allow me.” “Of course. I trust you.” Hannah smiled at her friend. “I’ll get started now, then I’ll have to get back to Damon or he’ll freak.” “Aw, that so sickeningly cute!” “Shut up.” Hannah had to race back to the hotel in order to not be late. The last thing she expected was for him to be curled up on the couch, fast asleep. It was adorable. Disappointing, yes, but still adorable. He looked so young and vulnerable in his sleep, all traces of his usual mockery and cruelty gone. It made her want to wrap her arms around him and never let go. Smiling at the sight, she quietly shut the television off and set a blanket over him, careful not to wake him. He shifted a little but didn’t wake. She laced her fingers through his and watched him as he slept, awestruck, never remembering when she slipped from blissful observation into contented slumber.