The Awakened and his Embraced company slipped trough the front door of the party and made their way to Lucien's car parked out on the front lawn. The sleek profile of the gloss black Lamborghini almost made it blend in too well. Had it not been for her keen night vision and the hiss of the doors automatically opening as they approached (thanks to a button on Lucien's key chain) she may had tripped right onto the hood.

The trip to her 'dinner' dates home was like something out of a sci-fi movie, or perhaps Batman. The interior of the vehicle was set with displays for everything one could imagine. Cell phone, video phone, GPS, full satellite radio in full color LCD... the inside apparently cost just as much as the outside. It was hard to blink without feeling like she might break something and then have to pay for it.

The black Mastigos-Mobile pulled into the driveway of a large house on campus. It looked recently renovated and sill the scent of paint and fresh wood slipped through the vents off the vehicle's air conditioning.

He led her through the house, going in through the side door and passing through the kitchen (spacious, even in the dark) and up the stairs into the first door on the right as they reached the top of the staircase. He flipped the light on and the room was huge. It actually looked like it used to be two separate rooms that Lucien had the dividing wall between them knocked out and the two combined.

The first feature to catch Sarah's attention was the monochrome. Everything was white, gray, polished steel, or black. Around the room, one to her left, two on the opposite wall, and one to her right were four glass cases, like those one would see in a museum. Within each was a single guitar standing vertically. Two overstuffed white leather couches faced each other in the enter of the room divided by a black polished stone coffee table. At each end sat a large over stuffed white leather chair.

Apparently this was Lucian's study, or den. A place where he came to relax. One final thing to catch her eyes were the three closets, with painted tri-fold doors.

"Welcome to my home." He said politely. He seemed to be in more control and more alert since they left the party. "Please, relax, make yourself comfortable."

This was a long, long way from her usual style of hunting. It was, in fact, a long way from her style of anything. The car ride itself was sex on wheels; if she hadn't been so hungry, Sarah would have regretted the car coming to a stop as soon as it did. Even so, the house was like something out of a movie, the kind of thing that nobody really lived in. Endless expanses of space with strategic placement of what little decor existed appealed to her spartan sensibilities. The windows were... well, they were large, but unless things went terribly wrong she wouldn't be here by the time that became a problem.

Nodding appreciably, she managed to say, "It's quite a home. Love the style."

Hunger pulled at her with new urgency, and the creature drew close to Lucien once again. Fingernails traced along his shirtless chest before hands slid around under the open jacket and pulled him againt her. With deliberate effort, she drew breath, taking in the scent of this man who somehow seemed to hold more depth than his toys or choice of career would indicate. Cologne and sweat mingled with the faintest scent of his vital blood, and Sarah stepped into him, the tip of her nose moving up along his collar bone, then back to and up along his neck as she simply breathed him in, a line of soft kisses making its way up, up farther along that beautiful bronzed skin.

There was a place, a spot not far from the ear, that was a particular favorite of hers. It had been in life, on the tiny handful of awkward dates she had endured, interludes of tenderness amid the violence of the clan, and on one magical night a few stolen moments with someone between the the pressures of med school. In her new unlife, that place had taken on new meaning. It was a place where scents mingled, where nerves joined in sending sensations of bliss, where life pulsed vibrant just beneath the skin. Reaching this place her mouth opened just a touch wider, and sharp ivory slid almost painlessly into the cherished spot as they belonged, had always belonged there - her fangs in his throat, his life flowing into her like wine, like love, like a promise unbroken.

She had hungered for just this moment, had waited and fretted and persevered to feed from this enigmatic man. And it was worth every lost opportunity and frustration of the night. This was no mere blood (as though any blood could ever be "mere" to her). This sweet nectar was manna, full and ripe and satisfying in a way that no mortal had been in the thousands of nights of her unlife. Some tiny little part of her brain, some flicker of memory amid the dead flesh that was still capable of clinging to something other than the utter bliss of the moment, couldn't help but chuckle to itself: He really does taste like money!

Blissfully Lucien fell prey to The Kiss. Like all mortals the sensual seduction of the vampire's bite shot waves of euphoria through him and in an instant Sarah's embrace became all he ever wanted, ever needed. As his hands explored the sides of her body, rubbing their way down to rest within the back pockets of her jeans Lucien suddenly awoke from his dark reverie.

Survival, in the deepest part of his mind triggered an impulse. An impulse that for the extremely rare mortal who was able to resist the lure of the Kiss would have meant they would thrash and fight back and resist the vampire's attempts to feed.

Not the Awakened, however.

For a man who had the power to bend reality with his will alone, that simple impulse was a beacon, a conduit to the Watchtower of the Iron Gauntlet in the realm of Pandemonium, Kingdom of Nightmares and the Abode of Dreams. Lucien, whether he was aware of it or not, was a Warlock. That instinct accomplished a feat no mere mortal could ever conceive. His thoughts and emotions and feelings remained locked in the bliss while his mind, now capable of carrying on multiple mental tasks at once, took a moment to consider the predicament he had found himself in.

Oh Jesus, what's going on? She's... she's drinking me, he thought as Sarah continued to feast upon his precious life's blood. College is so messed up. Lou said not to mess with the pre-med psychos.

The bliss of the moment was robbed from him as his Arcana refused to allow him to fall prey to a mental effect as simple as a vampire's bite. He could wield True Magic after all, not the parlor tricks these other supernatural creatures possessed. Such was the Mastigos way.

He politely tapped Sarah on the head as she continued to feast upon him. "Uh, excuse me," he winced, feeling a bit lightheaded. "I was going to offer you a drink, as is customary in this sort of social affair, but I'm starting to feel a bit awkward here. Do you mind?"

Sarah was prepared for many reactions from her vessels. A few had passed out in her arms, many had clung for dear ecstatic life, and more than one - of both the male and female persuasion - had fumbled with belts and zippers in a confused mating instinct.

Being politely tapped on the head and asked to stop feeding wasn't on the list. Hell, it wasn't in the damned library. In something that if it wasn't shock was a very close cousin thereof, Sarah withdrew from Lucien's neck, pulled back and stared at him like a deer in the headlights - fangs and all.

So stunned Sarah was that the customary, near-automatic healing touch that she always gave had been neglected, and she caught sight of twin trickles of blood beginning to drip like rubies down toward the collar of his jacket. With what tiny bit of composure she had left, she swallowed hard and half-whispered, half-stuttered, "Um... I should really fix that...," nodding in short little movements toward Lucien's punctured neck.

Cue reality in

3.

2.

1.

Flip out.

The lapel of his crisp white (freshly dry cleaned, did I mention that?) jacket became soaked in blood as he threw up the collar to absorb the trickles of blood. "No! No you can't "fix it", did you miss the part where you just tried to eat me!?"

Lightheaded and dizzy the room spun as vertigo reared its ugly head. "Chicks who drink my blood are so on my 'not call back' list Sarah... why would you do that?"

Wavering, he let go of his lapel and raised a bloodied hand against his freshly painted white walls as ceiling met floor and left became right, the young Warlock caught his first taste of his own Nimbus. Not only Lucien however, for Sarah could see well the effects the young Mage was having on the world around them. Surrounding the young man was a radius of space where nothing was cohesive. All within would warp and weft in directions that were impossible to describe. At the center, Lucien remained unchanged.

Within a moment it was gone. "I... think I'm gonna puke. What... did you do to me?" The Warlock asked, assuming that this was all Sarah's fault.

Oh... shit. This was a long, long way from how anything was supposed to go. Somewhere in the dark and cobwebby depths of her unbeating heart, Sarah couldn't help but feel bad for the poor guy; if the situation had been reversed, she certainly wouldn't be all that happy. No, if the situation were reversed, I'd be all happy and lightheaded because I WOULDN'T FUCKING KNOW THAT SOMEONE JUST FED FROM ME!!!

And then, the acid show kicked in. The world started twisting in entirely improbably ways around Lucien, and Sarah blinked half a dozen entirely unnatural times trying to clear it. What the hell... was he on something? Am I on it now? Oh hell....

Unfortunately, there was still a problem, entirely aside from the fact that he knew that she had drank his blood. From the spreading stain, he was still bleeding out, and unless she did something about it fast, this was going to turn into a 911 call or worse. Grabbing hold of his arms, she locked eyes with him and said with no small amount of urgency and just a tinge of panic, "You need to hold still so I can stop the bleeding, or you're going to die. Is that clear?"

He fussed, trying to escape. Awakened or no, Lucien was a simple guy face to face with one of Nature's perfect predators. "Clear? No it ain't clear, none of this shit is clear!" He swore, a rarity on Lucien's part as he slowly lost more and more control over himself as the fear of his own death and the proximity of her 'Beast' became a sudden reality.

He had been bitten. So, he feared he'd be a vampire too and that scared him. Fear of death, as they say, is worse than death itself. "I get to spend the rest of my... whatever... waking up in a coffin." He looked at her and seemed startled. "Oh, man this sucks Sarah, I can feel myself turning! My heart is slowing down... I can feel the bleak darkness of undeath's caress coming to claim my soul... my dad is going to be so pissed. How am I going to explain this?"

To her credit, Sarah didn't laugh. Her eyes did threaten to roll back far enough to see her optic nerves, and the sigh she let out was anything but subtle, but she didn't laugh.

What she did do was two-fold. First, she leaned in during his self-pitying rant and quickly licked the wound closed. Then, she lined up in front of Lucien and gave him a short, sharp slap across the face.

"Your heart isn't slowing, you're not going to sleep in a coffin, and you're not turning into a vampire." She sighed again, easing the confused young man into a seated position on the sofa, then tiredly plopped down on the opposite end, facing him. "It doesn't work that way, Lucien," she said softly. "Whatever else may be weird about you, you're not undead."

Lucidity returned to Lucien, albeit slowly. He poked his neck a few times, searching for the puncture wounds. "How did you...?" was one of several question weighing on his mind, but first and foremost he could imagine his conversation tomorrow at breakfast"

So, yeah. Guess what I found out last night. Vampires are real. Yup, I know... crazy huh? Freaked me out too, blew my goddamn mind.

But first... "Sarah, what do you mean it doesn't work that way? I'm not going to become a... what ever you are?"

And now, it's out there.

Two basic options were in front of Sarah.

Option one was to launch into a disinformation campaign. Explain it as fake fangs. Explain it as a bad trip from something slipped into his drink. Explain it as magic. Explain it as anything other than the truth.

Option one was absolutely the correct thing to do. "The herd shall not know," she knew, wasn't just for werewolves.

Except for two small problems. She had already more or less given the poor bastard the big reveal. And she couldn't lie worth a damn. So she went with Option two: the truth.

"I made the wound go away by licking it; believe me, I'd love to know how it works medically, too, but it doesn't exactly follow any rules of biology that I've ever read. And I mean that you're not going to turn into... something like me just because you've been bitten. If that was the case, well, the epidemiology on that would get pretty ugly pretty quick."

She sighed again; this was anything but a comfortable situation. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just...." ...wanted to drink your blood didn't sound like the best way to continue. "Normally people don't remember it afterward. The human mind doesn't want to remember it, no matter how good it feels. So it makes up little stories, things that seem normal if kind of erotic. You sort of broke the rule on that one, and I don't know how or why. Did you take some kind of drug or something? There was a weird sort of reality twist there, a minute ago, and I think that I got it from whatever was in your system."

"You mean, you're an actual vampire?" he asked. Still freked by prospect sure, but logic told him that if she was going to kill him she would have already done it. Besides, she was kinda cute. Great ass too.



"Drugs?" Lucien half-scoffed/chuckled. Wiping the blood from his neck with his ruined jacket, he continued. "No, no drugs. Even the drink I had was pretty weak. Although you wouldn't know it by looking at me my life's been one big drug trip for awhile now though. I'm clean, but..."

He paused and rubbed his forehead. Sarah noticed his peaked palor seemed to flush itself as Lucien's pattern replenished itself by using his own internal reserves of mana. "Never mind, it's stupid. So, I guess the next question is, what do we do now? This is pretty messed up, lets face it."

He extened his hand, palm out, like a warning. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, you're damn sexy and all but one," he presented her one raised finger. "this is the single most bizzare "make-out-with-a-hot-chick" time I've ever had, and two," she was presented with another finger. "There is no way you're going down on me with those choppers." He shook his head. "Guys are... protective of those kind of things. You know?"

To Lucien's first question - the big one - Sarah merely nodded mutely. The second was where things got complicated, because she really didn't have a clue what the answer would be. And then, he mentioned the dental work.

"My... oh. OH! Oh... um..." With the slightest effort, she willed the gleaming points to retract once more to some semblance of the human norm, and gave an apologetic half-smile. "With everything going weird, I sort of forgot they were out. Sorry," she added with a shrug that looked far more appropriate for a shy college girl than an immortal creature of the night.

"This... hell, I don't even know where to begin, let alone what to do now." Rubbing her eyes out of ingrained habit, she tried to formulate something resembling a plan. "I hope your not offended, but yeah, I think going down in any way, shape or form is pretty far from the list of priorities. I'm... we're..." - *sigh* - "...this isn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to know. It breaks all kinds of rules, unless you're something supernatural yourself." Hope springs eternal, and she dared ask, "I don't suppose you are, are you? I mean, you did shake off the Kiss."

The handsome playboy smiled. I was joking Sarah. You know, to lighten the atmosphere. It's kind of tense in here, case you hadn't noticed." Lucien was like that, he said what what everyone else in the room might be thinking or even too afraid to say.

Despite being asked a question Lucien's eye were set on something else. He was completely mystified by Sarah's condition. When her fangs retracted his stare became one of genuine curiosity. He strolled over to her and knelt on floor placing himself twixt her legs with a palm on each thigh, his thumbs resting dangerously close to places Sarah hadn't had touched in quite some time. "Do that again," he asked, in a voice so charming it could convince the sun to go on vacation for a few weeks. "I'd like to see them, just... you know, not in me this time."

For the second time tonight, Sarah blinked like some wild thing caught in the lights of an oncoming truck. No matter how far out of kilter things went, it seemed like they still found yet another way to hook around in yet another unexpected direction. Was he actually... turned on? What the hell?!?

A bit too shocked to do much of anything else, and with a quick search for a handy excuse turning up empty, the vampire complied and let slip the tools of her trade. As she did so, the last of her focus on the facade that had been so carefully maintained for the night finally fell to the wayside, and what little colour was in her Irish skin faded to the pale tones of the dead.

He was fascinated. They slid slowly from their place within her gums with a low, and near inaudible, sounds as the muscle pushed them downward. "Sarah, that's... amazing." He was gawking and it was obvious.

"What did you mean," his eyes remained locked on her fangs, he even went as far as move himself closer to her to get a better look seemingly unafraid of the danger they posed to him and his future cardio excercise regimen. "By 'a supernatural'. You made it sound like a club or something." The wrods were more spoken to the air as he remained transfixed on Sarah's weaponry. "Man, what do they teach you girls in Pre-Med?"

"You," Sarah declared, shaking her head with something halfway between a chuckle and a laugh, "are a very strange camper. Most mortals would be running for the hills right about now. The handful left would be fumbling around for crazy shit like holy water or garlic or something. But you? You just want to know how everything works."

Something he said before finally caught up to her. "No drugs... you really aren't on anything. That... that warp thing that happened around you... that was all you, wasn't it? And the way you taste, like nothing I've had before." Sarah cupped his chin in her hand, tilting him up to meet her eyes fully. "What are you, Lucien Hunt? Because whatever it is, it's not human."

*I don't know,* he replied without moving his lips. *I wish I did, but I don't know.*

He stood up and walked around for a moment. "I know that I can see wisps of all sorts of colors around people, I know I can tell when people are around me just by 'feeling' them there." Emotion built, apparently Lucien had been saving this for someone, and was now getting his chance. "I know I can hear what people are thinking, I feel what they're feeling, I know that in a dark room, blindfolded, I can tell you exactly where everything is..."

His hands rested on his hips and he sighed. "I know I'm loosing my god damned mind. Hell, now I'm seeing vampires. Next thing you know Gary Busey will crash through the door with a kid in a wheel chair and tell me we have to kill Declan Perault, the psycho werewolf. with a bottle rocket and melted silver cross."

He shook his head. Despite his composure, Lucien was obviously overwhelmed.

Not entirely sure what to do, Sarah gingerly reached out and put what she hoped would be a comforting hand on Lucien's shoulder, even as she inwardly shuddered at the reference to Declan. Just because he knew her own dirty little secret was no need for him to know the rest.

"Been a while since I heard anyone make a Silver Bullet reference. I guess you are pretty shaken up." The joke, as most of her attempts as such went, fell flatter than a foundered flounder.

"What you're describing sounds... well, I honestly don't know what it sounds like. Not like anyone else I've ever heard of. Not like that says a lot, mind you; I'm young yet. But whatever it is, it sounds like you're pretty new to it. And as things go, it doesn't sound all that bad. No sprouting hair in funny places, no need for an SP-three-million sunblock, no drinking bl... sorry. Who knows, maybe you're something new.

"What I can tell you is this: you need to keep it on the Q.T. Letting normal people know that things that are decidedly not normal are walking around in the night is an incredibly good way to find yourself on the business end of a pitchfork and/or torch, courtesy of the Committee for Concerned Citizens Against the Strange and Unusual. Or maybe a nice view of the ceiling in a government lab while Uncle Sam tries to figure out what makes you tick. That, of course, assuming you convince anyone that you don't belong in a rubber room. As far as Joe Sixpack knows, there's no such thing as vampires or werewolves or mindreaders or whatever the hell else is out there... including you. Do you understand?"

He looked at her from over his shoulder with a look of concern. "Werewolves? Christ sakes, don't tell me they're real too. You're joking right?"

"Um..." Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. For the love of Luna, just tell him every goddammed thing, Sarah. Jesus fucking Christ.

"...figure of speech?" she finished, cringing even as she heard the words come out of her mouth. You win the prize, Sarah O'Neally. Orange County Fair Blue Ribbon for Idiot in the Blabbermouth Class. Well fucking done.

He folded his arms. "Bullshit."

Nodding gamely, she sighed yet again. Are sighs habit-forming? Have I formed a habit? Can I form a habit?

"Yeah, they're real. I've known a few. OK, more than a few. It's a long story, and one that we can talk about sometime later. But for now, I need you to tell me that you understand exactly why you can't march down to the clinic or UCLA paranormal studies crew or talk-radio studio or whatever and try telling the world about things like you and me."

He turned and faced her, and brushed a stray lock of coppery curls back behind her ear. Fearless of her fangs Lucien's lips brushed hers in a tender, possibly even caring, kiss. "You've no need to worry Sarah, you secret is safe with me. As for mine, well, I've no intention of broadcasting what I can do, trust me."

Whatever this was, it wasn't anywhere in Sarah's admittedly short record of experience. Growing up, affection of any real sort simply wasn't in the cards except from her brother - and he was gone by age eight. Her life up in the hills marked her as an outsider throughout school. By the time college rolled around, Sarah learned the hard way that socialization patterns were something established long before, and so she remained on the fringe. And then, with her cross-country trek and subsequent embrace, she had entered into a life permanently on the edge of any sort of society, be it mortal, vampiric or lupine.

So the reaction from this strange man, the odd caring he showed for her, left Sarah somewhere between uncomfortable and flummoxed. She knew the basic physiology of what this was supposed to do; endorphines pump into the system, the heart races, nerve centers go on alert, etc. But her heart did not beat, and the closest thing to an endorphine surge she had felt in three years was the joy of feeding.

After a gentle but quick kiss of her own in return, she pushed him back just a bit. "I... I'm not sure what you have in mind, but..." She looked down at herself, at her pale skin. Taking his hand in her cooling own, she tried to explain. "I'm not really alive, exactly. The responses aren't... well, what I mean to say is I don't function exactly like I used to. Things like sex are, well, they're just an occasional prelude to the one joy I have left. And all things considered, I don't think you're up to another round of that, Lucien. With what I already took and what bled out after, that's the last thing we should be doing if you want to stay on the breathing side of the equation."

The empathic young Warlock held her hand gently and all the same in a firm enough grip that only empaths can seem to manage. That, "I'm your gay friend, you can tell me any thing girlfriend!" sort of grip. Had Lucien not brough her here with the intention of premarital antics and college hi jinks Sarah may have very well believed he was gay. Thankfully (hopefully) she knew better.

He laughed softly as he spoke. "Sarah, I'm not trying to get you into bed." His smile was enough to jump start her heart and threaten to flush her cheeks. "Although," he winked as he joked with her. "Considering the circumstances, you so owe me, girl."

A slight grin rose up to from at edge of of her soft lips. She suddenly found it difficult to look him directly in the eye and she raised her hand to conceal the smirk of cheer that ambushed her smug undead lifestyle.

"Was... was that a smile I just saw?" He moves his head trying to make contact. A somber expression eventually met her gaze. "My eyes tell me you are not dead Sarah. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you. You are a soul with a body, not a body with a soul."

He gripped her other hand in his own. "The sun, does that old fable hold any truth?"

The smile disappeared at mention of the sun, and her temporarily beating heart slowed to a stop.

"Mr. Sunshine is not my friend, unless I want something that makes a third-degree burn look like a tan. I'm pretty much a sunset to sunrise existance.

"As for the soul..." She trailed off for a minute before continuing. "That kind of depends who you ask. There's a fair number of us who are solidly of the opinion that we don't have one anymore, and most of the rest figure that if we do, it's thoroughly damned. I... well, I never bought into the whole heaven-and-hell thing, so I don't buy the damned bit either. I think I have a soul. But I'm not at all ready for the only real test of that. Not really sure what Luna has in mind for me when I die, and pretty sure I'm not in any hurry to find out."

"Trust me, you do. I can see it. And if you ever doubt come to me and I'll set you straight again." He winked, to help her understand he wasn't preaching. What is it with this girl? She seems so... sad.

"Look, we're pretty much over the making out part, not that I don't find you attractive, but let's face it - when it comes to making out, you suck." The vampire jokes had begun, and Sarah felt that if he continued to see him, they'd only get worse, like his taste in home decor.

"I'd like to get a shower, but I'd really like to know more about you. Any chance I could talk you into staying, and sharing more with me?" He thumbs rubbed the back of her hands softly.

Lucien's joke was an absolute groaner, and it may have been that and that alone that elicited a dry chuckle from the undead girl sitting across from him. Then he make his request for her to stick around.

"I..." she started to protest, then stopped. What? I need to get back to the party that the police have already crashed? Stalking around? Finding a nice spot of dirt to dive into for the day?

A little surprised, she found herself saying, "As luck would have it, my social calendar seems to be open for the time being. I think I could be conned into sticking around for a bit. Though," she added, "not for too long; I need to find a good spot to hole up before the big glowing deathball comes barrelling over the horizon."

"Come with me," He said as he gently gave her hand a tug and led her from the room into the hall. They turned north and entered the last door of the hallway.

The master bed room, a massive room that seemed to betray the possible dimensions of the home, was decorated in a very modern theme. Every piece of furniture, the massive overstuffed bed included was all polished steel. The walls were simple with a flat dark gray, but oh the mirrors. Several of them, two walk in closets each possessed quad-fold doors with full length mirrors. Several were mounted upon the ceiling over his bed. A polished steel armoire sat near the entrance, and a feet away was a the thick polished black door that led into a master bath. For all it's expensive features, the room lacked any sign of windows.

"Come on in, make yourself comfy." He walked to the dresser and selected a few articles of clothing. "I figured you could pick a few CDs out while you wait." With a remote, he pointed to the smaller of the two walk-in closets, the one directly in front of his bed, and the doors opened revealing a massive television and sound system to match. All in all, and the spectacle was either getting amusing or annoying by now, it was an incredibly impressive display.

"I'll be a few minutes."