Author's note: This is my first attempt at anything in the Blade universe, but after seeing Blade 2, I had a few ideas, and this is one of theme. Nomak was, for me, the most complex and interesting, as well as compelling character, and far too tempting for me not to try to write him. Please review, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated, as well as any corrections with the universe (I'm not as familiar with it as I am with most verses I write in), and any corrections on Nomak's backstory. But basically, reviews help keep me going.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to David S. Goyer, Marvel comics, New Line Cinema, and whoever else has copyrights. I mean no copyright infringement, please do not sue me. Savvy?



He was still lying.

The bastard he called father was still lying, trying.

Trying to save his own skin, trying to placate the very monster he had created. His only thoughts were not of his children, neglected, betrayed offspring that were nothing more than pawns. They were focused solely on tricking them, escaping the same fate he had damned his son too.

The same fate his son would damn his daughter, his favorite, too.

Burning hunger, pulsing agony, feral nature, loss off any and all thought other than to feed, to numb the ache and sate the bloodlust. That was Jared's fate, that would be Nyssa's fate.

Yet, how seductive the lies were. How promising, comforting they sounded. Softening his core, weakening his resolve the tiniest bit. It was all he had ever wanted, and his father was promising it to him, lying through his dull fangs, worn from age.

But how he had always yearned to be his father's son, to be the Prince sitting on one side of his father, a sister he knew only as his one-time hunter, would-be slayer, sitting on the other. Like a real family.

United. Close. That would never happen.

Damaskinos was not united to anything other than survival. Damaskinos was not close to anything other than his own interests.

The creature once known as Jared now called nothing but Nomak and hunted like a criminal, stared at his father, creator, the source of his pain. He neared the withered male vampire with each step, glaring in contempt mixed with longing as he heard promises of a cure, of apologies, of position.

He could hear the pathetic tremble in his father's voice. Could smell the almost rabid fear emanating from him. Could see the terror in cold, black eyes. It kept him from giving in. It kept him from falling to the floor and accepting the empty words. It kept him from letting himself believe.

At one point in his pointless existence, he had clung to the hope that one day he would hear this promise, that he would be accepted openly, publicly. That Jared Nomak could be known as Jared Damaskinos. That he could be with his sister, a sister he only knew because of the few times his father had mentioned her as they grew up, separated.

Nyssa had never known about him. That was painfully obvious to him. It had been for almost a year now, the growing, gnawing suspicion solidified when he had come upon her in that nightclub. She had been completely unaware it seemed, ignorant of her father's true nature.

And why not? She lived in the world that was only for show, she was not a part of his experiments, therefore she had no need to know. She was for the public, Jared was for the supposed survival of the vampire race, to give Damaskinos his own chance to play God and damn whoever got in his way.

Not to mention the son he hid from all others, who had been so crucial to the experiment.

For some reason, there wasn't any sense of honor or flattery, no pride in the fact.

Perhaps being in constant pain dulled those sensations.

Now here they were, face to face again, finally. And the room was steadily filling up with more lies.

It was time to end it. He closed in, glowering at his father. Old, frail hands lifted up as the ancient overlord tried to convince his son everything would be made right. It disgusted Jared, and he turned his head away from them.

But again, the words were well placed, were the very things he had always wanted to hear, had always wanted fulfilled. Why couldn't they be true?

Even as he finally embraced his father, feeling the cold fingers comfortingly cradled his head trying to placate him still, he knew. Even as he sighed, clutching his father close in the first actual contact Damaskinos had allowed in years, so many years, he knew the truth.

Fear drove the words, desperation filled the promises, and self-preservation made the apologies.

Illusions. More illusions. That was all he had ever had. All his father had ever given him. Illusions.

And Damaskinos would never put an end to them. But someone had to.

The urge to turn his father was minimal, as the thought of drinking the ancient, cold blood turned his stomach. Perhaps a part of him still couldn't bring himself to damn his father to the same fate. Perhaps it was because his suspected his father might even prefer living as a Reaper than not living at all.

What did it matter, the reason? He did not turn his father. The chunk of cold, aged flesh was quickly swallowed while blood, dark and green, gushed from the wound the bite had left.

Immortal life drained from the decrepit body as it stumbled towards Nyssa. Towards his daughter. Away from his son. Away from Jared Nomak.

The son he had needed, used, mutilated, turned into a creature never sated, never able to find a moment of peace, a moment free of pain.

No, it was his sister their father crawled to. His sister who was sent out to kill him even unknowing of the truth. His sister who had known the closest thing to love from their father. His sister that had been allowed to take the place rightful to him.

His sister who had handed their father over, handed herself over, to him.

Siblinghood was only an illusion in their family.