She had lived in this house her entire life. From the time she was a baby to now, more than twenty years later, she had called 189 Harris St. home. She was as familiar with it as she was her own body; she knew every wood plank, every stair, every crack, every squeak. If she were to go blind tomorrow, she would still be able to move about her home without assistance. It was the one advantage she had over a trespasser, for she owned no weapons save for a very special can of mace that she carried with her always, and had no knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, her physical strength being slight, if not minimal. She was not an aggressive or violent person by nature.

So when she walked into her home late one night after a particularly serious bout of overtime, she knew something was different. She was familiar with the very presence within, and could detect the slightest change. Being the gentle individual that she was, the slightest change to her home, good or bad, alarmed her.

Though she couldn’t see in the dark, she kept the lights off, guessing that, if she had any intruders, they couldn’t either, and that gave her the upper hand, because she knew the house, and was less likely to stumble over something or step on the squeaky places in the floorboards or knock something over as she fumbled through the darkness. Unless, of course, her intruders were vampires.

She knew all about vampires. She knew they existed, that they stalked the streets at night, that they fed on humans. She touched the scars on the side of her throat, six of the tiniest of pinpricks, and a chill rolled down her spine. She had been warned to keep her mouth shut, and she kept well to that promise. The less humans knew about vampires, the better. If the general public knew that the undead walked among them, it would cause widespread panic and chaos. Unable to tell the difference, the humans would start killing each other out of sheer terror, and that would be far worse than any havoc the vampires could cause. Still, though they stayed hidden and under the radar, they were everywhere, and she knew to be very careful when walking at night, where she went, and who she made eye contact with. One wrong look could very easily be your last.

Frightened though she was as she moved through the darkened halls of her home, she knew that it was very unlikely that she had vampire trespassers. The bloodsucking predators were only dangerous if you happened to be on their hunting grounds, which were outside. They were not without manners, and didn’t go breaking into their prey’s houses to feed on them. That was considered rude. They kept their hunting to the streets, or in bars, so there was a very small chance that she had vampires in her home. Unless they were not here for food. If that was the case, then there was only one reason vampires were in her home, and that had to do with her involvement with the vampire hunter, Blade. The Daywalker, as he was known, neither human nor vampire, but somewhere in between.

Though she would hardly call them involved. They had met three years ago, when she was barely twenty years old, and she had only seen him five or six times since then. Still, she was someone he knew and had a relationship with, and anyone they could use to get to him, they would. Her hand slipped into her pocket and closed around the can of mace. Blade had given that to her as a means of protection to ward off vampires. A mixture of silver nitrate and garlic extract, it was sure to cause some serious discomfort if sprayed in the face, and fatal if swallowed. On regular humans it did virtually no harm, except leave a bad taste, so it was no use against familiars, but it would cause enough of a distraction for her to get out of there and get away.

Gripping the can tightly in her hand, she crossed the kitchen, carefully moving around the table, and approached the living room, turning around as she did so. A pair of doors separated the living room from the kitchen, but she usually kept them open, having no real reason to close them because she lived alone in the house. She knew exactly how many steps she needed to take to get from the kitchen table to the living room, and her hand brushed against the door as she slowly backed into the room.

She took two steps backward and stopped. A chill rolled down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. She pulled out the can of mace out of her pocket and raised it up in front of her just as she felt something brush against her hair, and a deep voice spoke softly in her ear, “Hello, Kaila.”

Her scream cut through the air like a gunshot, and she jumped up and forward, momentarily disorienting herself and crashing into the table. The living room light switch was flipped on as she whirled around, the mace held in front of her like a gun, and she recognized the figure that had been behind her, swathed in a black leather trench coat, sunglasses and a wide grin.

“Blade!” she shrieked furiously, causing his grin to widen. “You scared the living daylights out of me!”

“I was just testing your reflexes,” he explained, chuckling. “I just want to see if you could defend yourself in an emergency.”

Heart rate slowing, she untangled herself from the chairs and crossed the kitchen floor to turn on the lights and illuminate that room.

“And are you impressed?” she asked, tossing the can of mace onto the table. “I’ll have you know I’ve never had to use that.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Not once.”

“That is very impressive,” he said, and she could tell that there was a note of relief in his voice. “You’re very fortunate.”

She wondered if she should mention that it would take a lot to provoke her into retaliation, and that it wasn’t in her personality to attack herself. However, she decided against it. Because of who he was, Blade had a hard time understanding that some people weren’t fighters, and probably would chide her, convinced she was making excuses. He lived in a world where everyone acted on their instincts, and she lived in one where people thought before they spoke, and kept their actions polite and courteous to others. She did not understand his world any more than he understood hers, but perhaps, for the safety of them both, it was better that way.

“I’ve brought you something,” he said.

“What is it?” she asked, even though she already knew what it was. It was the exact same thing he always brought her every time he came to visit; ever since she had told him it was her favorite.

“The same thing as always. A dozen burgundies.”

She always loved hearing him say it.

From behind his back, he produced a dozen burgundy roses, still wrapped up in plastic and tied at the bottom. He held them out towards her, and she took them into her arms.

“Oh Blade, you shouldn’t have,” she said, though the sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable. They both knew well the reason he brought them.

He grinned, and now that they were closer, she could clearly see his six fanged teeth, standing as strong and as straight as ever. It made her wonder that if he’d ever gotten punched in the mouth hard enough to knock his teeth out, and if he did, could he grow them back?

Deciding that that was a conversation for another time, she gave him a grateful smile, and then a hug.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said.

“You too,” he answered softly, releasing her. They both knew that every time they saw each other could easily be the last.

She went to a cabinet over the fridge. Standing on the tips of her toes because she wasn’t very tall, she took a vase out, then filled it with water from the sink and stuck the roses in it, not bothering to cut them or unwrap them. She’d take care of that later. With that done, she busied herself with getting a bowl of leftover soup and a glass bottle of cranberry juice out of the fridge. She was going to need plenty of fluids tonight.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked as she took the plastic lid off the bowl. “Since I’m already at it?”

“No,” was the reply, and she put the bowl in the microwave. Then, realizing that she hadn’t had a chance to get comfortable, she took her coat off and carried that and her purse into the living room to hang them on the coat rack. She had to walk past him in order to do this, and could feel his eyes on her for the entire time. It always felt rather odd and slightly unnerving to have him watch her so closely and never say a word, but by now, she knew that this was normal for him. He was always inclined to do things and not explain himself. It was probably why they got along so well; she was not the kind to ask questions, and he was not the kind to answer them, especially if they were about him. She had come to accept by now all the strange things he did as a part of his behavior, and explained them all by the life he led.

“You’re inside now,” she said as she went back into the kitchen. “You can take those sunglasses off.”

His eyebrows went up, and it made her laugh.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you without them. You’re not the vampire hunter under this roof, Blade.”

She was a quiet, unsociable and introverted individual at work, never seeking attention from her colleges, but with him, she was never afraid to shoot out a quip every so often. When actually speaking, Blade could have a tongue sharper than his sword, and she always loved the challenge of trying to match him. She’d found she was quite good at it.

“Touche,” he said, for he knew she was right. When he came into her home, he was not the Daywalker, the infamous vampire killer. He was someone much different. He reached up and removed the shades, revealing his strange, light brown eyes. Still to this day, his eyes remained a mystery to her. The reason for their unusual color was unknown to her, and she’d always meant to ask, but either she forgot or the mood just wasn’t right. She figured it was just another thing attributed to his half-vampirism. She’d always read that vampires had unusual eyes, but those were stories, and as she was rapidly coming to understand, real vampires were nothing like the movies, so maybe that was yet another myth.

The microwave timer went off, and she opened it, fishing out the bowl, ignoring how hot it was against her fingertips as she brought it to the table. She stirred it with a spoon, then took a drink of her cranberry juice. When she looked up, he was gone.

Her heart jumped, because she hadn’t heard him leave, but she didn’t worry. He’d probably gone off to check the place, make sure that there weren’t any vampires or their familiars skulking around, preparing to attack, and probably to secure the doors and windows as well. She highly doubted anything was going to happen, but she humored his caution. If it would make him feel better, then who was she to stop him? Instead, it was best to eat quickly, because the search, even if he ran into a scuffle, wouldn’t take him long, and he would be wanting what he came for.

He didn’t always surprise her like this. As a matter of fact, this was the first time she had ever come home to find him there. Granted, she wasn’t asked to work overtime often, and this time he just coincidentally happened to drop by and she wasn’t there. Most of the time, he had shown up after she’d eaten, and was sitting up in her bedroom reading or watching television. When that was the case, he landed on her windowsill, tapping on it if it was closed, or just climbing in if it was open. The exact reason he kept coming back to her, she didn’t know. Maybe he himself didn’t know, but she had a pretty good idea. What was clear, though, was what he came for.

Because Blade was a half-vampire, he was immune to sunlight, silver and garlic, and he had greater strength, speed, agility and endurance than a normal human. However, he also had to drink blood in order to sustain all that. Years ago, when he began this business of vampire hunting, he, Whistler and another helper had developed a serum that had the same effects as blood, except maybe less potent, without actually being blood. However, after twenty years of taking it, it was becoming less and less effective, and worse still, his body was beginning to reject it, sort of like an addictive drug. He needed more and more of the stuff in order for it to work, and it was getting dangerous.

Then three years ago, when they had met, they discovered that consuming actual human blood helped bring down his intolerance, and began increasing his ability to react to the serum. She had volunteered, knowing that the cause to which she was donating to was far more important than her own safety. It wasn’t his favorite option, but when put in perspective, they really had no other choice. They didn’t know how big the doses would have to get before he rejected it completely, and since he was the greatest danger to the vampire nation, it was crucial that he stay alive and strong. As long as he didn’t drain her completely dry, they didn’t really have a problem. She needed a lot of liquids and rest afterwards, but there was never any lasting harm done. Only the six scars on the side of her throat, where his fangs always pierced her. It never hurt much; he always did it quickly so that she barely registered it before the pleasure of drawing on the wounds overpowered it.

In addition to her blood, he came for something else, too. She’d had boyfriends in the past, though only one or two ever meant very much to her, and only two had ever lasted more than a year. She just didn’t connect with people very well, and found it even harder to connect with men. Blade wasn’t her boyfriend or lover by any means, but she knew that they were far closer than just friends. They couldn’t be, after what they had been through together. She had saved his life, and he in turn saved hers, finding companionship and a few moments of solace in a desperate situation. What they shared was not love; she had no reason nor interest in fooling herself. His heart and his soul were bound to his work, and hers were bound here, to her home. He was all alone in the world now. The friends he had come to care for in the past were no longer with him, and he faced the vampire nation by himself. What she offered him was a base, a steady place to come to when he needed her, a constant in a world where everything can change in a single heartbeat. What he offered her in return was something she still was unable to put a finger on. Perhaps it was a sense of purpose, a reason to exist, a knowledge that she was doing something right. Indirectly, she was helping save hundreds of innocent people who hadn’t the slightest inkling that supernatural predators lurked in their midst and fed on their blood night after night, and that was always a comforting thought. She didn’t mind “being used”, as he put it. It was all for the greater good, and that was what counted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement, and turning her head, she was that Blade had returned, now stripped of his trench coat, vest and sword, and dressed only in a black sleeveless shirt and pants. She took one last swig of her cranberry juice, then closed the bottle.

“No bad guys lurking about tonight?” she asked in a cool, but playful and well-meaning tone.

“Nope,” he responded. “All clear.”

“Well, now that’s a relief.” She got up from the chair she had been sitting in, transporting the empty soup bowl to the sink, and rinsed it under the water. “We wouldn’t want anything to go bump in the night, now would we?”

She threw a look over her shoulder to see how he was taking her teasing. He was still standing in the doorway to the living room with his powerful arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the frame. His eyelids were hooded over, but he was still watching her. It was an amusing factor she had noticed: his sunglasses made him look sharp and alert; without them he looked rather sleepy. She knew that he was staring at the slope of her sides from her shoulders into her hips, and how the soft fabric of her t-shirt clung gently to those curves, bunching up and folding in places because it was meant for a bigger girl. She felt a slight blush rising up to her cheeks, and that pricking feeling on the back of her neck that came with being watched made her pat her hair with a hand in an attempt to squash it. Quickly, she finished rinsing the bowl and spoon and placed them into the dishwasher. It was a lot easier to know he was staring at her when she could stare back, and she did just that as she straightened up, leaning against the counter. He had a way of making her feel very vulnerable, despite the knowledge that she knew he would never hurt her.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, maybe more. Neither one said a word, and the sounds outside of the traffic and those walking past seemed to have become muffled. There was no change in his expression and he didn’t move a muscle when he commanded her.

“Come here.”

She was an ordinary girl.

Just a normal girl, with normal brown hair, not too long and not too short, and normal brown eyes, no special shade, just ordinary brown. It was a few months past her twentieth birthday. She was a sophomore, going to a small community college not far from her house. Her parents had moved out and left their house behind to her, where she was now living by herself. It was something about the place that she was so attached to. Maybe it was the comfort of the familiar, because it was a place she knew, and the unknown was not something she took to well, even if it was nothing more than a new house. Her two older brothers, one with a family all his own, had already moved out, and her parents were both retiring to Florida to live out their days. They left their house behind to their only daughter, where she lived alone, and was not the least bit scared of doing so.

Even after what would happen to her, and what she would come to learn, she had no fear of being alone.

She had been driving home from running errands late the night Blade crossed her path. Or rather, she crossed his, because if it had been up to her, she would have gone straight home, made a pot of tea, and done her homework by the fireplace. But fate had other plans, and before she could stop, a car pulled out in front of her from a side street, a white, new-looking pickup truck. Taken completely by surprise, she slammed on her brakes and swerved hard to the right. She had been going rather fast, because this was a quiet stretch of road and there were usually very few people around. The velocity of the car, combined with the sudden change of direction caused the car to flip up onto its side as it went sailing off the road and down a small slope that made up the side. She finally came to a stop when the nose of the car smashed into a tree and it rolled over onto the roof, leaving her hanging upside down and badly shaken.

For a few minutes, she tried to catch her breath and figure out what to do next. She was sure the people in the truck had seen her go over, and would be down to see if she was all right. In the meantime, she had to try and at least get out of the car. She was not hurt at all, just rattled, and hanging upside down. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she looked down and tried to unbuckle her seatbelt, but it was jammed. She pursed her lips in frustration and punched it harder, but it wouldn’t release. She gave a despaired sigh, and then someone tapped on her window.

Looking in at her were three frightened faces, one of them yelling, “Roll down your window!” It came out slightly muffled, but from the motions he was making with his hands, she understood. She fumbled for the button, found it, and pushed, but nothing happened.

“I can’t!” she yelled back. “It’s stuck!”

At first he didn’t understand her, but after she had yelled it a couple of times and shaken her head, he nodded and then disappeared, leaving the other two behind: a man and a woman who looked like brother and sister, probably a little older than her. They both waved politely, then turned their heads as their friend returned. Their faces changed from friendly to urgent, and they kept covering their heads with their hands and shouting, “Cover your face!” over and over again. She finally got the message when she saw that he was clutching a rock with his hand, and she realized that he intended to send it through her window. Copying the figures outside, she threw her arms up around her head, making her sure that her face was completely blocked.

The window was hit three times before the glass shattered, and she heard a cheer from all three of them.

“Hey there. Are you all right?” asked the one who had smashed her window.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. “I just can’t unbuckle the belt. It’s jammed or something.”

“E, go get the knife out of the truck,” said the other boy, and the girl jumped to her feet and began running back up the slope towards the road. “We always carry a knife just in case we run into an emergency,” he explained, turning back to her. “We go on all kinds of outdoor kind of adventures, so a camping knife is always handy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m Scott, by the way. This is my friend Burt and the girl you saw was Elaine, my girlfriend. We call her E for short.”

“Nice to meet you; I’m Kaila. I thought you two were brother and sister” she said to Scott.

“Oh yeah, we get that a lot,” he said with a laugh. He had dark eyes and a very pleasant smile, and Kaila felt herself very fortunate to have run into such friendly people.

“So, you live around here?” asked Burt.

“Actually, I live in the city,” she replied. “I’m just out running errands. Or at least I was.”

“I see. And do you live with our parents, or a boyfriend, maybe?”

She smiled.

“Nope. My parents moved out to Florida last summer, so it’s just me. I’m a student at one of the community colleges.”

The two boys looked at each other, and for some reason, the look made her uncomfortable. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because at that moment, E returned, a huge knife clutched in her hand. She handed it over to Scott, who was closest to her. He took it, and said, “Okay, I’m going to cut the belt up here by your head, so move over in case I slip, just so I won’t get you.”

She obeyed, moving over as far as her seat would allow, which wasn’t much, but he said it was enough. He reached into the car, took the seatbelt in one hand and began to saw at it with the other. The blade was incredibly sharp, and it was through the belt in the space of a minute.

“There!” said Scott triumphantly, and withdrew his hands. Her weight pulled the belt loose, and she tumbled onto her head on the roof of the car with a bump! E and Burt grabbed a hold of her arms and pulled her out through the window. They sat her upright a few feet away, allowing the blood to drain back into her body, and E asked, “Are you all right?” with a face full of concern.

“She’s fine," Scott snapped, cutting her off. “Which is great for us.” The friendliness vanished from his face as he came over, grabbed her by the shirt, and pressed the knife to her throat. “Kids,” he proclaimed. “I think we just found the perfect little twat to feed to the vampire hunter!”

“Aww, come on, Scott, not her!” Burt groaned. “Let’s just go get some bum or something!”

“Yeah!” E joined in. “He said get someone who wouldn’t be missed! She’s probably got family or friends that’ll come lookin’ for her! Let’s let her go!”

“Nah,” said Scott, a nasty gleam in his eyes. “She said she was alone here, didn’t she, Burt?” His companion nodded. “All her family’s on the other side of the country. It’ll be weeks before they get news of her disappearance! Plus, look at this. So young, and so pretty.” He ran a hand over her soft hair, and she was too terrified to throw him off or resist. “Even the Daywalker’ll have a hard time resisting the Thirst in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

The other two looked at each other, then began to nod their heads as equally sinister grins broke out over their faces.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Burt. “Good work, Scotty!”

“Granger’s gonna be so proud of us!” E squealed. “Looks like fate is finally on our side!”

“Get her up to the truck now before someone sees us!” barked Scott, and they dragged her to her feet, protesting.

“What’s going on?” she cried as they made their way up the slope. “Who’s Granger? Where are you taking me?”

“Shut up, bitch,” Scott growled as they reached the road, and he shoved her into the backseat, climbing in after her (the pickup was a four-door). He was still carrying the knife, so she obeyed, scrambling into the far seat and fastening her seatbelt as Burt got into the driver’s seat and E got in on the passenger’s side. The engine started, and the prisoner leaned her head against the window, staring out at the passing scenery, fighting tears. As they drove, she watched the empty road turn into the city, and the other cars and people passed by. None of them were aware that a young woman, not even old enough to drink but just as normal a the rest of them, was being kidnapped and dragged off to suffer whatever fate they had planned for her. She had no idea what they had been talking about back there by the side of the road, about Granger and the Daywalker, and everything else, but she had very good reason to believe that it was not chocolate ice cream. She also was pretty sure that she probably wasn’t going to come out of it alive.

While they were riding, she noticed in the light of the streetlamps that Burt and E had a small tattoo on the backs of their necks. It was the same mark, and resembled a gang symbol. Curious, she broke the silence to venture a question.

“What is that mark there on their necks?” she asked Scott next to her.

“It’s a vampire brand,” he replied. “I’ve got one, too.”

She looked at them, trying to decide if she should feel sorry for them or burst out laughing. In the end, she went with the wiser choice, and did neither. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and repeated, “Vampire?”

“That’s right, babe,” said Burt in front of her. “Vampires.”

“And don’t you dare call us crazy,” E snapped, twisting around to face her. “’Cause we’re tellin’ the truth!”

She couldn’t help but notice the desperation in her eyes as she said this, and wondered why.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said, holding up her hands to show she’d meant no offense. “It’s just that as a general rule, we’re taught that vampires don’t exist.”

“Yeah, they do,” said Scott, and then there was silence again.

“So, are you guys vampires?” she asked.

“If we were, we would have fanged you back by the side of the road,” said Burt shortly.

“Yeah, we just work for them,” said E.

“Which means we’ll be vampires someday,” Scott finished. “We’re familiars, or at least that’s what they call us. Vampires use us to do things they can’t, like go out in daylight.”

“Hmm,” she said, letting all that sink in. “You said the vampires call you familiars.” They all nodded. “Then what would you call yourselves?”

There was a pause, in which E and Burt looked at each other, and Scott tapped the point of the knife against the pad of his index finger. He had an uncomfortable look on his face, almost fearful.

“Slaves,” said E finally, with the tiniest bite of disgust. “Property.”

“Oh,” the other girl said, and nothing else was spoken for the remainder of the trip.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at what looked like an office building. Burt was the one who dragged her out this time, because they were on the same side of the car. Then Scott tucked the knife into his belt and grabbed her other arm. They led her up the steps with E in the lead. Resisting wouldn’t have done her a whole lot of good, and struggling was just stupid. There was no way she was going to get away and she would only wear herself out, so she allowed them to march her through the front doors and then the shining halls. They walked so fast that everything passed by her in a blur, and she tripped over her feet several times in an effort to keep up. She had never been a fighter. In school, she had always been bullied by the other kids because of her gentle temper and she never fought back. She was still shaken hard from her accident, her capture, and then all this talk about vampires. Being who she was, she had never been a huge fan of scary movies, preferring the vampire in romance novels, because then it was even less likely such a creature that could exist. Her personal experience and what she had been told by her kidnappers were still warring inside her head, and her dazed state made it easier for the boys to jerk her around as they made their way through the halls. She had no idea how long they were at it, but E’s voice finally brought her back to reality, and she realized that they had stopped.

“Arlen,” E was saying. “We’ve got something.”

She stepped aside to allow the boys to drag their prize forward.

The man in front of her looked around his late twenties, maybe so late as very early thirties. Though he was seated behind a desk, she could tell he was well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and large hands with long, slender fingers. His dark, coppery hair was just past his shoulders, combed behind his ears, curling only slightly around his neck. His blue-gray eyes were set a normal distance on either side of a well-formed nose, which was above two smooth, sculpted lips. He regarded her coolly, his eyes scrolling up and down what must have been an unimpressive sight, with her dirty hands and jeans and her hair in disarray. There was also a small cut on her lip where her teeth had slammed into it that was bleeding a little.

“You can go,” he said, still looking at her, and E bowed her head and left the room. “You two stay here,” he said to Scott and Burt, and then his lips pulled back far enough to reveal his fangs. Her shiver was noticeable, and he rose to his feet and approached the three humans before him. She shrank back, and he laughed.

“Are you afraid, little girl?”

She managed to squeak out a “No,” but even she herself was not convinced. She was trembling so bad it was hard to even see straight, and the boys holding her should definitely be able to feel her shaking. She had never been good at masking her feelings, and the terror was clearly displayed on her face.

The redheaded vampire chuckled again and said, “I would be if I were you. You could very well be in the last minutes of your life right now.” He took her face in one large hand and turned her head from side to side, cool eyes fixed on her throat. “Hmmm. Actually, you look rather delicious. If the Daywalker refuses you, I might just take you myself.”

There were two other people in the room, probably vampires as well, and they laughed in perfect syndication to his smile. She shuddered in his hand, her heart did a flip-flop, and then she spoke out, “Are you Granger?”

Confusion flashed across his face as though he couldn’t believe she actually had the mental capacity to ask a question at this time. Then he let go of her.

“Ah yes. Where are my manners? I am indeed Arlen Granger and the humans that hold you are two of my familiars.”

“I know. They told me,” she said.

“Did they tell you why you are here?”

“Something about the Daywalker. Nothing else.”

“Well then,” he said with a very unpleasant smile. “Let’s get to it, shall we? It would be terribly rude of me to keep you waiting, now wouldn’t it?”

Everyone laughed, except for her, and then she was swept out of the room through a side door.

“Allow me to introduce you to a vampire’s worst nightmare, even more than the sun. We call him ‘The Daywalker’, because he can move about in sunlight. He’s not a vampire, but he’s not human either. He’s both: with all of our strengths and none of our weaknesses. Except one.”

“What?” she gasped out, stumbling over her feet again as they dragged her along at an almost frightening speed. She was relieved when they came to a stop at the end of a corridor a moment after she had spoken. As she caught her breath, Granger answered her question.

“Our thirst for blood. See, vampires get their strength by drinking human blood. He’s the same way, except he has this serum he drinks instead. Or at least he did. He doesn’t any more.” He pressed his hand against the wall, and what she thought had been a solid wall opened up to reveal a cell containing a man clothed all in black and slowly getting to his feet, his movements sluggish as though he had been drugged.

“Good evening, Daywalker!” said Granger in a loud, jovial tone. “I was feeling generous tonight, so I brought you something. Thought you might be thirsty.”

The other vampires and the two human familiars laughed maliciously, and it echoed around the hall and the cell. The man waited patiently for it to die down before replying.

“Thanks. But I’ll pass.”

His voice was heavy, and sounded like he was in no mood for any bullshit, but he also sounded tired, as though it was taking all his strength just to keep his eyes open. She noticed, in the midst of her fear, that his eyes were a light brown, curious in a man of his race.

“Come on, now!” Granger mocked. “Don’t be rude. She’s a gift.”

“She’s a human.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s right; she’s one of your precious humans. Silly me. How could I forget?” His tone suddenly changed from mocking to spiteful. “You goddamn idiot! Humans are nothing more than our food, and your’s too, if you’d just wise up and realize that you’re still a predator, even if you can walk around in the daytime! You can’t hide forever, because sooner or later, the Thirst will take over, and then you’ll have no choice!”

At these words, he slammed one of his huge hands between her shoulder blades and she hurled forward straight into the prisoner. He made an effort to catch her, but she crashed into him too hard for him to resist, and they fell to the floor in a heap.

“Oh!” she cried. “Are you all right?”

The response she got was a shove in the stomach that sent her rolling.

“Get away from me!” he growled, but it was delivered not in anger, but panic.

“Oh, how touching,” said Granger. “Still trying to protect them, even from yourself. I think I’m going to cry. She’s already bleeding, you know. She’s got a cut right there, on her lip. I know you can smell it, and all it takes is just a little kiss…”

“How can you do this?” she cried, hardly able to believe anyone could be so cruel.

“Simple, honey,” came the reply. “Because that disgusting half-breed there is the only thing that stands between us and complete control over you despicable humans. With him here, he’s out of our way, and weakened like this, there’s no way he can stop us now.”

Her eyes flashed.

“Then why don’t you just kill him? Then he’ll really be out of your way.”

“Using his blood, we may be able to figure out what it is that makes him resistant to sunlight, silver and garlic. We need him alive to find out how to become Daywalkers ourselves, and then we truly will be immortal. Plus, death is too good for this monster.”

“So you’d rather just make him suffer? You’re barbaric!” she spat.

“It’s no less than he deserves!” Granger roared back, and she jumped. “If you knew how many of us had died by his hands…” his voice trailed off, and he regained his temper. “But I wouldn’t worry for him. Given his state, it’s your neck I’d be worrying about if I were you. We’ll see who’s the barbarian then.”

She shuddered and touched her fingertips to her throat as they laughed again, backed out, and the doors closed. She pursed her lips, trying it keep from crying. What did she do now? They were both trapped here together: looking around, she could not see any way to get out of there. She turned to her fellow prisoner, lying flat on his back, and the urge to cry became stronger. She had no idea what it must be like to hunger for blood, but from what she had read in her romance novels, it was something horrible, and a vampire needed an immense amount of self-control to keep from tearing the heroine’s throat out. The image was disturbing, and she didn’t want it to happen to her, but when she thought about it, it was probably no worse than what she would suffer if the vampires took over. She would possibly be killed outright, or worse, used as a slave. Heaven knows what they would do to her if that happened. She was willing to bet they could come up with creative ways to make her realize that maybe death was the better option.

She quickly wiped the blood off her lip with her finger and sucked it off, hoping that it might help calm his thirst if he couldn’t smell it any more. The cut wasn’t very deep, and had stopped bleeding a while ago.

“How long are they going to leave me here?” she asked.

“As long as it takes for me to kill you.”

Even though his voice was weak and full of exhaustion, there was no mistaking the hatred and disgust in it. He really loathed these creatures. But why?

“Granger said if you didn’t take me, he would.”

“Better him than me.”

She frowned. If she had a choice, she would rather have died by his hands. Some protector.

“What makes you say that?”

“He can live with innocent blood on his hands. I can’t.”

“Oh.” She could see his point. After all, he was more vampire than a human, but he was more human than a vampire. That was why he killed them. And he didn’t want to become the very thing he killed, did he? Granger had said that he drank a serum instead of human blood. Did that stuff work better?

She asked him.

“Serum,” he mumbled, and turned his head. His weakness and lack of blood were making him delirious. “Where’s…my serum?”

“I don’t have any, I’m sorry,” was all she could say.

But she did have something else.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly.

“Blade,” was the faint reply.

“Blade?” She took a deep breath, and knew what she had to do. In all the romances, in situations like this, what did the heroine always do? What she had to do. They had no other alternative.

She reached up behind her head, sweeping her brown hair away from her throat. To say she was afraid was nothing short of the truth, but she knew she had to do this. The end of the world as they knew it would surely come if she didn’t, and sometimes, the fates of many rested upon the fate of one. Well, maybe two, in this case.

“Drink my blood, then,” she said, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.

His light brown eyes opened just a little, but she could still tell he was glaring at her.

“Have you lost…your mind?”

She rolled her eyes, her fear dissipating rapidly and being replaced by annoyance. She had figured something like this was going to happen. However, now was not a time to play saints. There were more important things to worry about.

“Hey, listen to me,” she said firmly, but trying not to sound nagging. “They said that you protect the humans. I know this is going to sound strange to you, but this is a way you can do that. Someone has got to stop Granger and the rest, and I certainly can’t.. If you don’t drink, you’ll die, and then where will we be? The vampires will take over and enslave every one of us! We’ll be nothing more than cattle: mindless animals caged in pens, waiting for our turn to be slaughtered!” She crept towards him, crawling on her hands and knees. Her voice became softer as she said, “You’re strong; I won’t resist you, so please take what you need from me, and if you need it all, then take it. The humans need you, Blade. You’re their only hope. I don’t know anything about you, but I do know that your duty towards the human world is greater than your morality, so do this for them. It’s all the same to me. I’ll die whether you drink my blood or Granger does. I’m going to die anyway, so you might as well make use of me. If you don’t do this then Granger will, and once he’s done with me, he’ll move on to the rest of the world. Humanity will be doomed.” Her heartbeat picked up, despite the blood already pounding in her ears, and she crept even closer. “And one life: my life, isn’t worth that.”

His chest swelled, and then he raised his head. The rest of his upper body followed suit, in a slow, painful movement. At last, he was up in a sort of semi-sitting position, halfway on his side and his back, propping himself up on his elbow with one knee pointed upward for balance. With what looked like an exhausting amount of effort, he raised his other arm and beckoned her closer still, and she moved until she was directly by his side and his arm fell onto her shoulder. Using her as a brace, he pulled himself up until he was properly sitting, and his hand slid underneath her hair to firmly grasp the back of her neck. His skin was cool to the touch. With the hand that wasn’t pinned by his arm, she pushed her hair away from her neck again and he bent over her. Her heart was racing in fear as his mouth opened and she saw the points of his fangs, but where the vampires only had two, one on each side, he had six. Her flinch was obvious, but he didn’t bite her immediately. Instead, he mumbled the words, “Don’t be too sure about that,” against her skin, causing it to break out into gooseflesh.

She took a moment to try and process what he had said, so when his bite did come, she cried out both in pain and surprise and her whole body jerked and arched into his arms. His grip on her tightened, crushing, and she found herself clutching the arm that was around her waist, fingers digging into the small of her back. Around now, her natural instincts were starting to kick in, telling her brain that her body was under attack and to fight back, get away at all costs. And indeed, before she even knew what she was doing, she struggled feebly, trying to get away, but then she regained control of herself, and lay still. Even in his weakened state, his strength far surpassed hers, especially now when his primal instincts were taking over. So she let herself go limp in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and listening to the sounds of his sucking. The temperature of his body began to rise, and she felt herself leaning backwards, causing a fair amount of discomfort in her knees, so she unfolded her legs from beneath her, letting them just lie flat and relaxed.

Hmmm. These vampires are pretty stupid, she thought as she became light-headed. A small smile crossed her lips. They had undoubtedly kept a hold of Blade for a while, starving him of his serum and taking his blood, weakening him severely. She didn’t know how long he had been here, but it couldn’t have been very long, because he still had a great deal of control over himself, though she was sure he could hear her frightened heartbeat and had felt her warm body when she had crashed into him. Still, it was bound to give out sometime, and she was just glad it was now rather than later, because then he probably wouldn’t have waited for her to give herself up and torn her throat out in his need for her blood.

Still, throwing her in there was a bad move on the vampires’ part. Sure, it would be fun to sit there and watch him struggle between his desire for her blood and his desire to spare her a horrible death, and then laugh when they opened the doors and found him with her body in his arms, exposing him as a hypocrite, but did they take into account what would happen when he finally did consume her blood? His strength would return, and then he would be able to fight them off, bringing all their plans to a grinding halt. And all because he was able to understand that stopping the vampires was more important that sparing the life of an ordinary girl. Some, perhaps he himself, would call him weak, giving into his thirst this way, but she didn’t see that. Rather, she saw the contrary. Courage can take many forms, but perhaps the greatest was the ability to understand what was important, even if it didn’t agree with your own personal philosophy. And, it was one life against millions. What did it matter? This wasn’t such a bad way to die. In fact, it was actually quite pleasant. There was no pain, apart from the initial bite, and though it was slow, she was beginning to relax, gently slipping away into blackness.

An involuntary jerk of her entire body brought her back into consciousness. Though she was vaguely aware of her surroundings, she could feel him, still sucking on her neck, his arms still locked tightly around her, the hand on her nape pressing so hard she feared he would snap her spine, and the cold of the floor. Everything else was just a blur, and her body acted without her control as it jerked and spasmed, as though she were drowning and running out of air. I must be in my death throes, she thought. Fear returned like ice water as she realized that her death was not some distant event yet to come. It was here, and now that it was, though she knew she was contradicting herself, she didn’t think she could face it. Hadn’t he taken enough? Or did he really need to drain her completely dry?

But her struggles were too weak to throw him off, and he remained fastened to her like a leech. However, her fear did not last much longer, because all of a sudden, he let go, tearing his mouth away from her wounds and dropping her into his lap, where she rolled off and landed onto the floor on her back. With her vision going on and out of focus, she saw him get to his feet, his strength renewed, and she heard the rumbling of the doors opening, and then someone, a woman, scream, “It’s the Daywalker!” somewhere out of her line of sight. The last thing she heard was Blade’s response to that scream.

“Right on, motherfuckers.”

And then everything went black.

Later, though she had no idea how much, she opened her eyes to a dark figure bending over her, blocking out the faint light above. There was a sensation of rising up into the air, and then blackness enveloped her again.

She awoke with a start to broad daylight, opening her eyes and jumping upwards into a sitting position. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook her, and she groaned as she put her hand up to her forehead.

“You shouldn’t sit up too quickly if you’ve lost a significant amount of blood,” said a familiar voice.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” she replied, her eyes squeezed shut, hand still to her temple. She didn’t need to look to know that Blade was standing in the doorway, already dressed. “I always forget. I had the dream again.”

“What dream?”

“About the night we met. I always have it when I see you, and never any other time.”

He said nothing at first, just continued to stare at her, or at least that was how it appeared. It was hard to tell exactly what he was looking at when he was wearing his sunglasses.

“Lie down,” he instructed, and she sighed, but did as he commanded. He had a habit of avoiding the serious subjects. Come to think of it, he had a habit of avoiding all subjects. As she well knew by now, Blade wasn’t much of a talker. She knew very little about his life: a few details from nights sitting up together when sleep eluded them both. She knew about his mother and how she’d died, then come back as a vampire, and then how he’d had to kill her. She knew about Whistler and his daughter, and how they had helped him, and how he now carried his quest on alone.

He knew a little more about her than she did him, but as a general rule, she didn’t talk very much either. It was a good arrangement, as he would say. They both knew that their secrets were safe with each other, and the gives and takes were about even, though he tried every time to convince her otherwise: that what he was taking from her was greater than what she received in return. That was how the roses came into play.

He stayed long enough to watch her lie down, then he left the room. She didn’t wonder where he had gone as she pulled the sheets up to cover her breasts. She knew that he was downstairs in the kitchen getting her something to drink, probably milk. He always saw to it that she had plenty of fluids throughout the day, usually stayed a second night, and left the next morning, when she was able to make it from her bedroom to the kitchen without passing out.

Sure enough, when he returned, he had a glass of white milk in one hand. He brought it over as she sat back up, took it from him, and drank a few swallows. He folded his arms over his chest like a parent making sure their child is behaving, and she smiled and blushed a little under his gaze. He must have noticed, because he turned away and began tinkering with some of his gadgets that were lying nearby.

“Blade?” she ventured after a silence.

He didn’t look up or stop his work.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever worry that the vampires will find out about us, and come for me one day?”

His sigh was not loudly audible, but she knew it had been there. This was probably not something he liked to think about, much less discuss with her.

“Every day,” he replied, still focused on his work. “But that’s not really what I’m afraid of.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if that happens,” he began, stopping and raising his head. “I won’t be here to protect you.”

She had no response to this. She’d had no idea she meant so much to him. Of course, he kept showing up on her doorstep (or rather, her window), so obviously she meant something to him, but she’d never known she was that important. After another silence, she spoke again.

“Or you’re afraid they’ll turn me, and then you’ll have to kill me like you did your mother.”

He stared at her for a minute, then went back to his gadgets. When he didn’t respond, she continued. She could have been right, given the prolonged, uncomfortable look on his face, but she just as easily could have been wrong. You could never tell with Blade.

“You know I would never do that to you, right? If I ever got bitten and turned, I’d kill myself before you ever found out. I have no desire to live forever, and certainly not as a vampire. Being with you has taught me that.”

“I know,” he said. “But what am I supposed to do when I come home to find you’re no longer there?”

And to that, she definitely had no answer.

The next morning, they stood on the flat roof of her house. It was safer this way, he said, for the both of them. In case any familiars were keeping an eye out for him, he wouldn’t endanger her by having them see him walk in or out of her front door. That was also why he parked his car several blocks away.

There was a slight chill in the air as the sun came up over the buildings, and she hugged herself against it. Goodbyes were never easy.

They watched the sun rise, and she was so glad to be human. It must have been very sad that vampires were never able to witness this, especially if they were born that way. The sun was the source of all life, and everything depended on it for survival, even the undead.

“Kaila,” he said at last.

She turned her head.

“You shouldn’t go on like this.”

“Sorry?” she asked, looking at him quizzically.

“You’re getting old enough to start having a life of your own,” he explained. “Meet someone, settle down, have a few kids, maybe.”

“And you think you’ll be in the way of that?” she asked, and he nodded. She laughed, and turned back towards the sunrise. “Oh, I don’t think so, Blade. I don’t have a chance at a normal life, now. Once tainted,” she said, tilting her head and tapping the bite marks on her throat. “It would be pretty awkward to have to explain these to a young suitor, wouldn’t it?”

He had to nod in agreement.

“I crossed the line three years ago when I let you drink my blood. I can’t ever go back. Besides, one day, the vampires will find out about us. It may be tomorrow, it may be six months from now, or maybe even six years. But sooner or later, they’ll figure out why you disappear for a few days once or twice a year. You think I want to have a couple of kids around when that happens?”

There was a pause, and she could tell he was beginning to see her point.

“No one else should have to suffer for my past decisions,” she continued. “I think you of all people should know that.”

Point made, she turned her head back to the sun, which was now several feet above the horizon. Another pause, and then it was broken, this time by his voice.

“You’re not afraid of what they will do to you?”

She smiled. Even though he seemed so cold and incapable of any emotion except anger and hatred, the concern was evident, and she was touched.

“No,” she answered, and she spoke the truth. “I’ve already faced death, and come out alive. It can’t get much scarier than that, can it?”

“There are things in this world that are far worse than death.”

She sighed, slightly perturbed. He let her, but spoke again before she could. “And if that happens, know that I will not hesitate to do what is necessary.”

He was referring to her being turned into a vampire, and she understood. After all, she was the one to point out that his duty to the human world was far stronger than his personal life. Of course, he sounded rough just then, but she knew it was because he was trying to steel himself against the idea of having to kill her if she was ever turned. She knew that, if the time ever did come, his hand would shake, and he probably would hesitate. However, it would only be for a moment, maybe to apologize and say goodbye, or to hear her last words, and then it would be lights out for her. He’d make it quick, too, probably with a gun. He wouldn’t want to hear her scream.

“I know,” she said, and they faced each other. “And I’m not afraid of that, either.”

“Then you’re either really brave, or really stupid.”

“Probably both. Just like you.”

“Touche,” he replied. Placing a hand heavily on her shoulder, his face became serious. “Keep your eyes open, and be aware of every step you take, Kaila.” Then, faster than she could react, he took a running jump and sailed over the side of the building. She took a moment to process what had just happened, then ran after him, reaching the side to see him falling towards the deserted back street, out of sight of the humans on the busy cross streets on the front side of her home.

“Be safe,” she said as he hit the ground, looked around, and began running.

“Until we meet again.”

He didn’t look back.

A strong breeze caught her earthy hair and lifted it off her shoulders, and the morning rays fell upon the bite on her throat.