Another New Face

   Bailey sat in the darkness in the corner of Thomas's cell and stared at his weak limp body stretched out across the floor. It had been at least two days since Stephen or anyone else in the house had fed off of him. Bailey had brought him plenty of food and water but his body was taking its sweet time to regain strength.

  So far she had deftly avoided the topic of her identity and how all these bloodthirsty monsters were actually her friends but she knew sooner or later she would have to be honest with him. 

  "Although," she thought to herself, "honesty definitely does not seem to be the prevailing theme of this house. Bailey never mentioned George to me before and Stephen never brought up Michelle."

  A faint groan from Thomas interrupted her thoughts. He pushed himself up onto one elbow and smiled at her through the darkness. 

  "I'm so glad you're safe," he said, the raspy voice emanating from his dry throat. Bailey crawled over to him and held the bottle of cold water in her hands up to his lips. He drank voraciously never once breaking eye contact.

  "You should have some too," he encouraged. Bailey gulped and nodded in agreement.

  "You're right I should," she said, racking her brain for any excuse not to let the now detestable liquid pass her lips.

  "But this is really cold still and you know how I like my drinks room temperature."

   Thomas cocked his head to the side not recalling any such thing about Bailey but he had been in here a long time and it was completely possible he had forgotten many things. 

   "How long have they had you in here?" he wanted to know. He pushed himself up to standing and slowly carefully stretched his legs.

   "Oh you know...just a little bit less than they've had you." 

  "And they let you come and go as you please?" he asked, sounding completely surprised. 

  "Well not exactly," Bailey said, twisting the end of her ponytail around one finger. 

  "They let you come visit me at least," Thomas said with a smile. "That's good enough for me." 

   He walked slowly over to Bailey and sat down next to her. 

  "I've missed you," he admitted. Scooting a little bit closer he reached up one weak arm and rested it around her shoulders. 

  "Oh my gosh, Bailey. You're freezing cold," he gasped. "Are you ok? You're like unnaturally cold." 

  "I uh, I'm fine," Bailey assured him, hopping quickly to her feet. 

  "I should go. They will want me to finish my housework. They get mad when it isn't done properly."

  "Housework?" Thomas repeated. "What on earth are you talking about?"

  "I have to go," Bailey insisted. She yanked open the door and then slammed it shut behind her before Thomas could say another word. 

   "I'm just as much of a monster as Darby or Stephen," she thought to herself. She felt tears well up in her eyes but proudly refused to let them fall. How could she possibly explain to Thomas after not seeing him for months that she was now a creature of the night who no longer thirsted for water but only blood? 

  "Maybe George would have some ideas. He seems to have a way with words."

  Bailey made sure the door to Thomas's cell was locked behind her and made her way quickly down the dark stairwell and outside. 

   The moon was beginning to fade from view. In only an hour the sun would start to rise and another day would dawn. Bailey hurried across the wet grass to the guest house where George was staying. She knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer. 

  A soft "Come in" was the response and she turned the knob and pushed the creaky white door open. George and Darby were on the couch hidden under an array of blankets. Bailey blushed slightly and looked down at her feet.

  "I didn't mean to interrupt," she muttered apologetically. 

  "You didn't," George assured her with his typical sweet smile. He patted to a spot on the couch next to hin.

  "Come sit down," he offered. Bailey stared at him with wide eyes. She could see Darby in her perriferal, glaring as if she absolutely had interrupted something. Bailey took a step back and settled herself into a light blue armchair across from the couch. She noticed Darby's face relax slightly.

 "What brings you to see us?" George wanted to know.

  "Well I mostly came to see you," Bailey began. Darby's face creased back into a frown.

  "To see both of you," Bailey quickly corrected. "Because I don't know what to do about Thomas."

  "Who is Thomas?" George asked.

  "A human friend of hers that Stephen has been snacking on. She feels bad for him now but she's afraid he will hate her if he learns she's a vampire."

  "Wouldn't a real friend love you for who you are no matter what?" George questioned. Darby rolled her eyes.

   "No human is going to love  vampire." 

   "I did," George said succinctly. He stared directly at Darby. She opened her mouth as if to reply but after a few seconds of silence she sunk back against the couch, speechless.

   "I understand the fear of telling someone about yourself," George said comfortingly to Bailey. "But he will find out sooner or later. Best to get it over with as soon as possible. If he hates you, you let him go and start healing from the loss. If he doesn't, you figure out how to continue your friendship despite your differences." 

   "I think she wants more than a friendship moving forward," Darby said with a teasing smile. Bailey blushed again and frowned at Darby.

  "Well that's another big step that I'm sure you two can take together if the time is-"

  George stopped midsentence and sat straight up. He tilted his head back, put his nose in the air and took a deep breath as he swiveled it around.

   "Do you smell that?" he asked Darby. She frowned in concentration and took a deep breath herself.

   "I do smell something," she told him. "It seems somewhat familiar but I can't place it." 

   "I definitely smell it," Bailey chimed in. "I don't know how but it smells like...violence?" 

  As if on cue, there was suddenly a blood curdling scream from outside. It lasted for only a few seconds and was promptly cut short. 

   George sighed and leaned his face down into his palm. 

   "I knew it. I knew he was following me but I couldn't find him. Should have known he would announced himself in his own special way when it was time."

    Now it was Darby's turn to sit straight up.

   "He? You don't mean-?"

    George nodded.

    "That's exactly what I mean. Lee is back." 

A Change for George

   Darby sat in the soft grass nestled against George's chest. They had been together for a week and it was the happiest she had felt in a long time. George had such a unique way of looking at the world. He could find beauty in the smallest of things. A bee on a flower or raindrops on a spider web. His smile made her feel weak at the knees and she couldn't think of a sound more pleasant than his laugh. They talked about anything and everything and she felt relaxed like she could be her true self. 

  And when they sat next to each other and he put his arm around her shoulders or pulled her closer against him, she felt wanted. When he smiled and stroked her hair she was at peace. Nothing in the world could hurt her as long as she was next to him. 

   Her fears that all he wanted from her was to be turned seemed foolish now. They had stayed up late into the night talking about it and she agreed to do it when she felt he was ready.

 "Can you really ever be ready for something like that?" he had asked her. She shook her head remembering the night she was turned and how scared and lost she felt.

 "There is no way to really prepare yourself but I will stay with you the whole time. I wish someone had done that for me."

  George leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Once I turn we never have to be apart." 

  "So you and Darby fell in love at a hippie festival?" Bailey asked, her one eye raised in surprise above the other. 

  "Yes I suppose we did," George admitted. 

  The sky outside was completely dark now but Darby had not returned. Bailey and George sat next to each other on the couch in the guest house, George patiently answering all of her questions about his past. 

  "Was it scary when she turned you?"

   George shook his head but looked down at his hands as if distressed.

  "Scary is not the word I would use but it wasn't easy. I was the first person Darby had turned and I'm not sure she was ready for it. But I wanted it a lot so I pushed for it." 

  "So is that why she left you?" Bailey asked, then quickly realized her bluntness and bit her lip. 

  "I shouldn't have said that."

  "No but it's a reasonable question after what I just told you. The truth is, she didn't leave me. I left her." 

  Bailey frowned.

  "Why would you do that? Darby is a wonderful person," she said, feeling suddenly defensive. 

  "She is wonderful. It broke my heart to leave her but I had to get away."

  "Away? Away from what?"

  George shifted positions on the couch and crossed his legs.

  "Away from Stephen." 

  "Oh," Bailey said, her eyes wide as if she just made a huge discovery.

  "He liked Darby too and he tried to take her from you."

   George threw back his head and laughed loudly, his curls bouncing up and down. 

  "Not at all," he breathed through peals of laughter. 

  Bailey folded her arms and assumed a pouty face. 

  "Well I'm just doing my best with what you're telling me."

  "I know, I know," George said, patting her arm with his hand. "I'm not making fun of you. It's just funny to me to think of Stephen wanting Darby."

  "He clearly sees you as a threat to his relationship with her whatever it is," Bailey observed. "Or he wouldn't be upset about you being here."

   "You're not wrong about that," George admitted. "Although I doubt he will come say that to my face." 

   "So what did you do to make him so upset?" Bailey wanted to know. 

    George sighed, not looking forward to reliving this painful memory.

   "Well what happened was-"

   At that moment the door swung open and Darby stepped inside. She was soaking wet from head to toe and looked none too happy about it. 

   "Oh my gosh, Darby. What happened?" Bailey asked, jumping to her feet. Darby cocked her head to the side and gave an ugly glare. 

   "I was hot and fancied a dip in the lake with all my clothes on," she said, each word dripping more sarcasm than the last.

   "I assume you didn't eat then since you're in some kind of mood," George interjected, also rising from the couch and stretching his arms above his head. 

   "I ate just fine," Darby snapped. "Maybe I just don't like being asked dumb questions when I get home." 

   "Well I was going to get you a towel but now I'm not," Bailey said, stomping over to the door where Darby stood. 

   "I'm going back to the house to check on Thomas. You two have fun together." 

  With that she opened the door and stepped out into the pouring rain barely aware of it pelting her in the face. The door slammed shut behind her and Darby was left alone with George.

   "When I turned her I hoped it would give her more self confidence and she would find her voice. Perhaps that was a mistake," Darby mused, walking to the bathroom and pulling a towel off the drying rack. 

  She tousled her hair with it and wiped her face. George watched her from where he stood by the couch. Their eyes met for a second and she gave him a coy smile. 

  "Did you have a good chat with her?" she asked, unbuttoning her shirt and letting it slide backwards off her shoulders. 

  "I did," George told her, his eyes never leaving hers. "She asked me if Stephen is jealous of our relationship and that's why he's angry that I'm here." 

   "Oh my gosh," Darby exclaimed, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them down over her hips and down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and stood there in just her underthings looking intently at George. 

   "What did you tell her?"

   "Nothing yet," George admitted. "You walked in all soaking wet and that's all I can think about now." 

   "Is that right?" Darby asked, walking slowly over to the couch twirling a piece of hair between her fingers. She stood in front of the tall handsome vampire and let him look her up and down. 

   "And what do you think about it?" she wanted to know. He smiled from ear to ear. 

   "I think you know exactly what I'm thinking," he said. His strong hands reached out and grabbed her hips and they fell back together onto the sofa cushions. 

    All the excitement and happiness and passion Darby had felt when they were first together came rushing back. She pressed her lips hard against his and felt his hands go up and down her back scratching gently with his fingernails. 

  "Is this what you were thinking about?" Darby asked, sitting up on his waist, her legs on other side of his thighs.

  "That was just the beginning," he told her, pulling her down by her arms till their faces almost touched.

  "Let me show you the rest."

Darby and George

   Bailey went outside and peered through the dimming light of dusk to see George sitting in the front yard on an old stone bench. 

   "I was told very firmly to not invite you in," she said meekly, walking up to the strange vampire and twiddling her thumbs. He smiled up at her, his teeth perfectly white.

  "Of course you were," he said. "I expected nothing less from Stephen." 

  "Why doesn't he like you?" Bailey wanted to know. George sighed. 

  "That is a very long story that I would love to tell you. But first I would like to see-"

  George stopped midsentence and turned his attention to something behind Bailey. She turned to see Darby emerging from the darkened doorway looking more uncomfortable than Bailey had ever seen her.

  "Hello, George," she said with a half smile. She stood in front of him awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

  "It's been a minute, Darby. How have you been?" 

  "I'm alright. Turned another one," she said, motioning limply at Bailey with an arm. 

  "I see that. Your friend was asking about my past with Stephen before you walked out."

  "What did you tell her?" Darby snapped, her eyes suddenly boring directly into George's. 

  "Nothing," he responded, in no way phased by her change in tone. "I figured that was a story for another time." 

  "Or never. That works too," Darby countered, looking Bailey up and down. 

  "Stephen has never had such a visceral reaction to a visitor before. I think it warranted questioning," Bailey said firmly.

   Darby sighed and motioned for George to scoot to one side of the bench so she could sit down.

  "You're not wrong. But if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to George alone for a few minutes. Would you mind going in the back and making sure the guesthouse is presentable?"

   "Yeah no problem," Bailey agreed, trying to hide her disappointment at being dismissed so quickly from the new and interesting visitor.

   "Don't worry, you'll get your chance to interrogate him later," Darby called after her as she trudged through the grass to the guesthouse.

   "She seems like a sweet girl. I guess that means you haven't rubbed off on her yet," George said. Darby couldn't tell whether or not he was serious. 

  "Why are you here, George?" she asked with a sigh. 

  "At the risk of sounding cliché, I didn't like the way we left things."

  "You mean the way you left things," Darby interjected sharply. "You were the one who disappeared."

  "That was not entirely my choice."

  "You always had a choice," Darby argued, turning on the bench to frown at the other vampire.

  "You said you cared about me and then when things got complicated, you left."

  "That's not fair at all," George disagreed, standing up suddenly and scaring away a group of birds that had perched in the tree above them. 

  "I tried to fix things. I fought for you. For us. And you decided I wasn't worth it."   

   Darby looked up at George as if he had just staked her through the heart. 

  "Is that really what you think?"

  "What else am I meant to think? I left and you didn't follow me."

   Darby opened her mouth as if to protest but then thought better of it.

  "I'm hungry and you know I can't think straight when I haven't eaten. I'm going to hunt. Do you want to-" 

  She stopped short and rolled her eyes. 

  "Well no I guess you wouldn't go with me. Go find Bailey in the guest house. I'm sure she has all kinds of questions and you can tell her all about what a horrible person I was to you." 

  George reached out to take Darby's hand but she pulled away.

 "Have a good hunt," he called after her instead. If Darby heard him, she made no indication.

  George sighed and walked toward the backyard and the guesthouse. He opened the door to see Bailey wildly waving a broom around. Upon seeing him, she lowered it slowly to the floor and gave an embarrassed smile.

 "There was some kind of flying bug," she explained. "But uh, I think it's gone now so you should be ok."

 "I appreciate your courage in ridding my temporary dwelling of this beast," he told her. She knew he was mocking her but it somehow sounded nice.

 "May I come in?" he asked. Bailey's eyes widened. She had never had a vampire ask her permission to enter anywhere. It felt strangely powerful.

 "Uh yes. Yes of course."

  George nodded gratefully and stepped over the threshold. The guest house was dimly lit by a few overhead lights and a small lamp on an ornate old table against the wall. It was all one room furnished with an old fashioned sofa, four post bed and a modest kitchenette. 

 "I appreciate you all letting me stay here," George said, closing the door behind him and walking over to the sofa. It was covered in blue cloth with light green threads running through it. He sat down on one end and Bailey perched expectantly on the other.

 "You're just dying to ask me questions aren't you?"

 "Yes I am," Bailey admitted. "It has been quite a difficult week," she continued, pushing aside thoughts of Thomas suffering in his cell.

  "I would really like a distraction." 

  "Very well then," George said, leaning back against the couch and crossing one of his legs over the other.

 "What would you like to know?" 

Darby Sees a Familliar Face

   Darby stood under a tree watching the rain fall on a gloomy Saturday afternoon. It had taken what felt like forever to get here but she finally made it to this city in California where everyone was talking about love and peace and all the girls wore flowers in their hair. Wanting to fit in, she had woven her own crown of light pink and blue flowers she found growing in a park. Several people so far had offered her those funny smelling cigarettes but she declined every time. What if smoking that plant made her lose her inhibitions and she started telling people what she was? Or worse, what if she bit someone in clear view of everyone? 

  "On the other hand, maybe no one would even notice," she thought to herself as she watched the crowd of teens and young adults around her dancing without a care to music she had never heard before. There was so much life and passion and art surrounding her and Darby felt even more keenly aware of her undead state. 

  "Hey I love your flower crown," said a voice interrupting Darby's thoughts. She looked up and saw a young woman no more than twenty with cornsilk blonde hair tied in two braids on either side of her head. She was wearing a long white dress that just barely touched the tops of her feet and now clung to her body in the rain. Darby gasped slightly and averted her eyes as she noticed the woman was wearing no undergarments. 

  "Come dance with us," the girl invited, gesturing to the group of men and women behind her swaying back and forth to a delicate melody and seemingly relishing the feeling of cool rain on their skin. The girl had a big welcoming smile on her face and Darby couldn't help smiling back just a little. She took a step forward and peeked out from under the tree. There was still a layer of cloud cover between her and the sun. She reached her hand out and instantly pulled it back under the shade of the tree wincing at the burn on her skin. Leaving the protection of the tree's branches was out of the question until it was darker.

 "Thank you for the invitation but I can't right now. I'm not feeling well," Darby told her. She felt bad for lying to this sweet girl but how could she possibly tell her the truth?

  The girl nodded and looked at Darby knowingly. 

  "Having a bad trip," she said decidedly. 

  Darby cocked her head to the side slightly and frowned in concentration. She thought about her trip to California so far. It had been long and hitchhiking was much more difficult than it looked in the movies but overall it had been a fine time. 

  "No it was a good trip," she told the girl. "But I should probably keep moving. I'm kind of looking for someone." 

  "Right on," the girl said, nodding her head in time with the music. Her braids flopped from side to side against her shoulders. 

  "I hope you find them," she said. She turned back to her friends and one of the young men wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her on the lips. 

  Darby walked on, careful to stay under the shade of the trees. She thought about the day she had met George. It had been in a park not very different from this one and he had been so friendly to her even though he knew what she was. He had even asked to become like her. And now she had travelled all the way across the country in hopes of seeing him again and here she was, stuck under a row of trees until dusk arrived. 

  Feeling discouraged, she plopped down on a large rock next to one of the trees and looked around. How did she know if he was even here? Perhaps she had been too hasty in coming out here. They had only met once for a few minutes and yet Darby had found herself strangely drawn to him. 

 "I'm such a fool," she thought to herself. "As if I would find him in this huge crowd of people."

  She was about to give up and go look for someone to eat when she heard a deep voice behind her say, "Excuse me, miss. Is there room on that rock for one more?" 

  Darby looked up right into George's smiling face. She hopped to her feet and was about to reach out and hug him but she froze up instead. What if that was too familiar? They barely knew each other and it was possibly, even likely, he did not feel the same connection to her that she felt for him. 

 "Um hi. How are you?" she stammered, feeling not at all like her usual confident self. 

 "I'm doing alright. Better now that you're here."

  Darby knew if she was still human her entire face would be blushing from her chin to the roots of her hair. 

 "I'm glad you finally made it," George said, gesturing for her to sit back down on her rock. She did and this time she left enough room for him to sit next to her. 

 "Were...were you expecting me?" Darby asked.

 "Well you did say you were going to follow me here. And I have to say I'm glad you did."

 "You are?" Darby asked, feeling a smile creep across her face.

  "For sure. When I last saw you, you refused to turn me; said it was something I should think about for a while. Well I had plenty of time to think on the car ride cross country and now I know it's what I want."

  "Oh," Darby said, her happiness instantly deflated. George wasn't happy to see her. He was happy she was there to give him what he wanted. 

  "Unless you've changed your mind about it?" George asked, looking at her with concern in his eyes. 

  "No of course not," Darby told him. "If that's what you want then that's what you'll get." 

   Two young ladies walked past them just then, both of them wearing long skin tight jeans that flared out at the knees and shirts that showed their bellies. She looked at George whose head turned in their direction as they passed. 

   "I'm so foolish," she thought as she watched George observe them until they disappeared into the crowd. 

   "Why would he want plain old undead me when he can have his pick from any of these beautiful living girls?"

   "I think you would look very cute in those kind of pants," George said suddenly. Darby looked up and saw that his full attention was once again on her. He looked her up and down and she suddenly felt unflattering in her short black skirt and light blue short sleeved blouse. 

   "Thank you," Darby said, blushing slightly and looking around at anything but George's face. 

   "Are you ok?" he asked. "Are you not happy to see me?"

   "Of course I am," Darby exclaimed, a little more enthusiastically than she meant to.

   "I'm just not sure what you want from me."

   "What do you mean?" George asked, adjusting his position on the rock to face her. 

   "I mean you don't have to pretend that you actually like me just to get me to bite you," she said quietly as a group of girls walked by shaking tambourines and singing a song Darby had never heard before. 

   "Is...is that what you think of me?" George asked. Darby looked at him and saw a sadness in his eyes. Her stomach dropped and she wished she could grab the words she had just uttered into the air and stuff them back into her mouth. 

   "No of course not. I just mean that...well when most people find out what I am they either run away from me or want something from me." 

   "Well I'm not running am I?" George asked. "And since I sat down I haven't asked you for a single thing. I'm just happy to be near you again."

   "But when I saw you last you said you wanted me to bite you."

   "I did but that's not all I want from you. I saw you every day at the park at home for years and there was something attractive about the way you carry yourself. Something graceful and confident. You're a beautiful woman, Darby. I want to get to know you better. And if that means becoming a vampire myself then I'll do it."

  Darby sat there speechless. Had this handsome man just called her beautiful? 

  "Becoming a vampire is a huge transition," she said in a small voice, still reeling from George's admission of admiration.

  "Its a lot to consider and I am not entirely sure I am worth changing your life over." 

  "Well," George said, reaching over to Darby and taking her delicate cold hand in his own warm one," Why don't you tell me about yourself and let me be the judge of that?" 

  

The Visitor

 "What do you mean you don't want to go hunting? We haven't been in almost a week."

 "You went hunting last night, what are you talking about?" Michelle asked, not bothering to look up from the book she was reading in the candle light. 

  "Yes I went by myself. Again. The others were asking about you. They're worried that something is wrong with you."

  Stephen paused and ran his fingers through Michelle's long brown hair.

 "I'm worried that something is wrong with you." 

 "And why is that?" Michelle asked, letting her book go and flopping over onto her back to face Stephen who sat next to her

 "Just because I take a break from hunting I must be broken?"

 "Hunting is how we stay alive, Michelle. So yes, when you stop eating people think there is something wrong."

  Michelle rolled her eyes.

 "I haven't stopped eating. I drained a squirrel yesterday and two rabbits the day before that."

 "Animal blood? That is your diet now?" Stephen asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "We are better than that. You are better than that. You have the power now to-"

  "To what? The power to what, Stephen?" Michelle demanded, rising up onto her knees so she could be eye level with the other vampire.

  "The power to viciously end the lives of strangers? The power to feel nothing as I watch the color drain out of their faces? Well maybe that is something I don't want."

  "You don't get to say that now," Stephen yelled, bringing his hand down hard on the mattress. It left a faint imprint in the dark red blanket and Michelle stared at it as he continued.

  "You told me that you wanted this. We both wanted this. We held hands and did it together. And now you want to back out?" 

  Michelle could hear the pain in his voice. 

 "Not back out, just do it differently. You can have your hunts and your human blood and satiate your thirst for power. I am content with my animals. Although I would prefer to hurt no one at all, I no longer have that choice."

 "And is that my fault as well?"

 "What do you mean "as well"? I blame none of this on you, it was my choice to become this way."

 "And so now I must suffer for your choices?"

 "How do you suffer?" Michelle demanded, her voice rising in anger. 

 "Everything we enjoyed together you have taken away from me. You no longer wish to hunt. The cells downstairs remain empty because you refuse to even live in the same house where a person is suffering. You don't even wish to hear stories of my great kills."

 "Perhaps there are more important things than all of that," Michelle insisted. She crawled off the bed and walked over to the window. It was dusk and a light breeze blew through the trees in the darkening light.

 "Can we not just enjoy being together? Am I no longer enough for you?" she asked, turning to look at Stephen with wide sad eyes. 

  He walked over to her and caressed her pale face with one strong hand.

"Of course you're enough for me. I love you."

 Stephen leaned in and Michelle met his lips with hers. His strong hands clasped her hips and with one swift strong motion he threw her across the room and onto the bed. She laughed and reached out her arms for him to join her. 

 "You always were good at ending arguments."

Stephen stood now looking out the same window. Bailey had not come back to the house yet after angrily stomping off and now it was getting dark. Hopefully Darby had talked her into going for a hunt in the park and they would bring him back someone delicious. 

 "Whatcha looking at?" Darby asked, walking up behind him. Stephen turned and glared at her. 

 "Why are you back? Shouldn't you be out hunting?" 

 "What do you mean back? I never left. I was going to see if you wanted to drain the other victims in the cells since Thomas is apparently off limits now," Darby said, holding up her hands in a feigned surrender to Bailey.

  "Yes I think I would like that very much," Stephen agreed, his fangs tingling. He closed the window shade and turned to follow Darby when their path was blocked by Bailey. She had a huge smile on her face as if nothing had happened this afternoon to upset her.

  "Darby, there is someone here who wants to see you," she said excitedly. "His name is George and he said he-"

  "Did you say George?" Stephen hissed, interrupting Bailey's announcement. Bailey nodded, her excitement fading slightly as she saw the intense anger in his gaze.

  "Did you invite him in?" Stephen asked between gritted teeth. Bailey shook her head. 

  "I thought only you could do that," she squeaked, taking a step back.

  "Stephen, calm down," Darby interjected, putting herself between Stephen and the young vampire. 

  "I will go outside and talk to him and everything will be ok." 

Stephen stood there shaking not taking his eyes off of Bailey.

  "Why is he looking at me that way?" Bailey whispered to Darby. 

  "Don't mind him," Darby told her. "Just go downstairs and tell George I'm coming."

 Bailey turned quickly to leave, ready to be far away from Stephen.

  "And whatever you do," Darby added, "Do not invite him into this house."

Stephen and Michelle

  Michelle and Stephen looked up at each other across the lifeless body of the woman they had just feasted on. Her short black dress was torn in the front from shoulder to shoulder and tiny rivulets of blood trickled down her chest and pooled on her stomach.
 "You have a real gift for finding the tastiest victims," Michelle complimented, licking the girl's blood from between her fingers.
 "Well I learned from the best," Stephen admitted with a wink. He leaned down and sunk his fangs into the soft flesh of the girl's neck and took one last thorough drink. His body tingled with pleasure as it was powered by her delicious blood.
 "Haven't you had enough yet?" Michelle asked. Stephen shook his head.
 "I can never have enough blood. Or enough of you."
 "You are too sweet to me," Michelle told him, batting her eyelashes.
 "Never sweet enough," Stephen insisted. He smiled and pushed the corpse toward Michelle.
 "Are you done?"
  She nodded as she looked down at the body between them.
 "I wonder what her name was and why she was out tonight."
Stephen shrugged and got to his feet.
 "Don't you ever wonder that, Stephen? About the people we eat? Don't you ever wonder who they are or what their story is?"
 "No," Stephen said simply. "I sat alone on a bar stool for years and no one bothered to ask for my name or my story. Why should I care about anyone else's?"
 "I bothered to ask," Michelle told him, a hint of sadness in her voice.
 "Yes you did," Stephen agreed, taking her hands and pulling her up to stand next to him.
 "And that is why I can't ever let you go."



   Stephen sat alone in the darkness mindlessly flipping through the pages of a novel he had read at least eight times. The record machine was skipping again but he didn't care enough to get up and fix it. Cicadas were beginning their evening song from the trees outside and the very last of the sun's rays would soon disappear.
  "Darby and Bailey have been gone a long time," he thought to himself. "They must really be hungry."
  Stephen knew he would soon be hungry as well. Hopefully Darby would remember to fill a bag to bring home to him. He thought of the early days as a young vampire when he would yearn for the cover of darkness and the thrill of the hunt, the overwhelming sense of power and pride that came from overtaking an innocent victim and watching the life drain from their eyes.
  He thought of Michelle and her pale white fingers delicately caressing him as he satiated his thirst with their kills. He remembered the way her soft pink lips felt when they would kiss and lick the blood from each other's mouths. The pain and hurt he had suffered after losing Beth slowly faded away and was replaced by new love, new strength and new hope.
 And then suddenly things had begun to change. Michelle stopped smiling and grew distant. She didn't want to go on hunts with him anymore. And then there was that one horrible day...

  Stephen jerked himself out of his reverie. Marching across the room, he grabbed the skipping record and smashed it against the wall. The pieces fell all over the floor and then the room was silent.
  "I'm getting hungry," Stephen thought to himself, trying desperately to push away all thoughts of Michelle. He was hoping for some new blood but the girls had been gone too long and he was getting hungrier by the minute.
  Grabbing the ring of keys from his desk, he marched up the stairs. He had really been enjoying drinking from that one prisoner. What was his name? Timothy? Trevor? Darby had said it several times but he could never remember.
  "What does it matter anyway?" Stephen thought to himself. No one had even come looking for the boy. He couldn't be that important.
  As Stephen inserted the old rusty key into the lock of the door at the top of the stairs, the sound of another door slamming made him stop. Loud footsteps echoed overhead and he could hear a woman's voice screaming incoherent words.
  The footsteps got closer and closer and before he had the chance to finish unlocking the door a fist began furiously pounding on it.
  "Where is he?" the same voice screamed, sounding angrier and more frazzled than before.
  "Where is who?" Stephen asked, withdrawing the key from the lock.
  "You know damn well who," the voice shrieked. Stephen identified it as Bailey and was surprised. She had never dared to speak with so much force to him or Darby before.
  "I'm sure I don't know," Stephen insisted.
  "Don't play games with me, Stephen," Bailey ordered, punctuating every word with a pound of her fist.
  "Darby said you locked up my friend Thomas and you're going to tell me where he is right now!"
  "Ah, Thomas," Stephen thought. "So that's his name."