Hunter's Mark (closed)

So I am on here for the first time so please forgive me if I have no clue what I'm doing.

This is a story the lovely and talented ForestFlame started and helped me write. We had a lot of fun writing it and we hope you have as much fun reading it

So, without further ado, I give you a tale of a vampire and her prey.

She rubbed her well manicured index finger slowly round her martini glass, as her emerald green eyes scanned the wine bar. Dipping her finger into her drink, she raised it to her ruby red lips, her tongue extending to greet it, catching the drip of alcohol as it fell from her glossy red talon. She reached out to her glass, caressing the stem like a lover, before raising it up to her lips and taking a sip. Her eyes looking over the top of her drink into the mirror backed shelving of the bar, seeing her own reflection. Her deep red wavy hair falling over her shoulder and tumbling over her firm breasts, like a cascading waterfall. The plunging white blouse and tight pencil skirt she wore hugging her form perfectly. She tousled her hair slightly and that's when she spied him in the mirror sitting at a table by the window. Her eyes fixed on his reflection, narrowing as she thought of the pulsing life in his veins. She slowly lowered her hand from her hair. Straightening her clothing. She hadn't fed, her hunger stirred in unison with her loins. She rose slowly from her seat and walked confidently over to his table.

He sat alone at the table with his drink. He idly spun the ice cubes around the inside of his glass of Lagavulin 16 before taking the first sip. He savoured the flavour, a memory of home, before letting the warmth of it slide down his throat. He let out a long, even, grounding breath. Loosening his silk tie, undoing the top button of his starched shirt he looked every bit the part in a perfectly tailored Italian suit. He knew his role in this game and the thought of it still made him uncomfortable, though he was a master of keeping those feelings hidden. He knew she would be in here, somewhere. All the signs had lead him here. His grey eyes scanned the bar as he brought the glass back to his lips. He counted twenty three people, fourteen women, fourteen possibilities. He caught sight of her movements out of the corner of his eye. Every alarm in his mind went off at once. The confidence of her movements was palpable. She moved like a predatory animal with immeasurable grace barely concealing the deadly power that she could unleash in an instant. Her gaze met fell on him and for a moment all his training left him; she was stunning. She smiled then and something inside him screamed. He knew his role in this game, he was bait, and it appeared he had attracted a nibble.

She glided up to him, she could hear his heart pounding, almost hear the rush of his blood as she approached. This excited her, his adrenaline coursing through him, adding a heady mix to his veins. She didn't utter a single word, but placed a black business card on the table, allowing her hand to glide over his shoulder as she turned and walked away.

She exited the bar, taking a single glance over her shoulder, seeing his head turned in her direction as she stepped out into the night. The rain had stopped now, leaving a fresh earthy smell to the night air, she inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent mixed with the familiar aromas of the city. The pavement dark and wet as she walked slowly, reminiscent of a scrying mirror's surface, glossy and darkly reflective.

Her heels sounding loudly in the empty streets, she spotted a cab, raised a hand and the driver pulled over. She opened the back door and got in. "Where to Miss?" the driver enquired of her. "Belle Vue Hotel, uptown and I would rather you didn't engage in idle chat enroute". "Sure, no problem!" he retorted, as he pulled into the traffic and headed off.

He watched her leave. He couldn't help his eyes from straying over the delectable curves of her body. His phone buzzed, breaking the spell her presence had cast upon him. He let a soft curse escape his lips, he was better than that. He entered his password and touched the icon to open the text, a single word:

"Follow?"

He picked up the card from the table as he typed in the response:

"Direction?"

Belle Vue Hotel. Could she really be so bold?

"West. Follow?"

As most of her kind were, she was apparently a creature of habit. They had found three bodies in the last week all in the West end. He input the address on the card into Google Maps. He smiled; every body had been found within 10 blocks of that hotel.

"No need, return to HQ."

He turned the card over between his fingers, a number was scrawled on the black in ruby red lipstick. She was most likely a class C, needing to feed every few days to maintain her strength. If she were older, stronger she could go weeks without feeding but then it would require a strike team to deal with her. A class C, active for less than 100 years, he could take down himself. Her glamour had been one of the more powerful he had ever felt but he had twelve confirmed slayings under his belt she would be nothing more than a number by dawn. Had she been class B or higher he would not have been able to withstand her glamour, he would have lost his will and simply walked off after her. His partner outside would then call in a team and hopefully get to his location before he was dead, or worse. He finished his drink with a chill; he hated being the bait. He stood up and walked out into the night. At least now he could go back to a more familiar role: the hunter.

He reached his car and sent another text, this time to his director:

"Class C confirmed. Solo hunt begun. Belle Vue Hotel."

He would be given 6 hours to text confirmation of the kill before a team would be sent in. His independence would be respected but redundancy was always required.

"Affirmative, good hunting, may God bless your endeavor."

Fifteen minutes later he was on the fourteenth floor of the hotel, standing in front of the room whose number had been scrawled on the card. He braced for her glamour as he knocked. He would need to maintain the facade of a victim, bide his time before striking. He saw the peephole darken as someone looked through it. He let out a long, steadying breath as the the door opened.

She had heard his approach from the elevator, the carpeted hallways unable to cushion the sound of his footsteps from her hyper sensitive hearing. Sitting in the darkened room, with a small bedside lamp the only illumination, she allowed a wry smile to cross her lips. Her long fingernails drumming on the leather arm of her chair, suddenly stopped as he knocked.

Her green eyes darted in the direction of the door, glinting in the dim light, displaying the hunger she was unable to hide completely. She stood, pulling her skirt straight before walking towards the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and unlocked it, opening it just enough to see him standing there. She left the door ajar and stepped back into the room, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him, the expensive cologne, the perspiration and the nervous fear that wafting into the room before him. He stepped inside closing the door behind him, never taking his eyes from her.


Suddenly she was on him, hand around his throat, pinning him against the door forcefully as she sought out his mouth and invaded it with her tongue. Her red lips pressed hard against his mouth, detecting the taste of the alcohol he had consumed. Her intent, to devour him, to savour him, to possess him, to fuck him. Her body pressed firmly against his, holding him in place as her free hand grabbed his wrist, preventing him from resisting. Her breasts crushed against him, the fire within her taking hold and igniting her passion, the evidence of it hotly collecting at her core and moistening the black lace panties she wore. The animal instincts within her a delicious driving force to physical acts, that would prove challenging to satiate her desires.

He watched the door open. He could feel her glamour burn into him the moment their eyes met. He could not fight it; could not refuse it. All he could do was to rely on his training, deflect it, absorb it, move through it. He closed the door behind him. If he showed the slightest resistance it would tip her off to his nature. He needed the element of surprise, it would be the only thing standing between him and oblivion. His mind was sharp, focused on her movements. Even without the aid of her glamour she was simply stunning. Her delicate features framed beautifully by a mane of red curls. Her full red lips contrasting her porcelain skin. The soft curves of her body, accentuated by her clothing, begging for his attention, his touch. Full breasts and hips, long legs complimented by stiletto heels. He lost himself in her beauty for only an instant, it was her eyes that brought him back to the moment. Her eyes, though a beautiful green, screamed with the naked hunger that was the defining attribute of her kind.

She was fast but a lifetime of training gave him the time to prepare for the assault. He went limp, it was what she would expect from a victim of her glamour. One hand at his throat, nearly lifting his feet off the ground. He could feel her nails bite into his flesh. She was as strong as he expected. He tried to keep up the appearance of a victim as best he could as he calculated his next move. His hand was pinned and he lost feeling to it almost instantly. He prepared himself for what would surely come next. A slow exhale as his free hand balled into a fist his thumb touching the ring on his index finger. But then she did something entirely unexpected. The attack never came, or rather did not land where he expected it.

The kiss was long, passionate, full of a palpable longing. It was so warm. He fell into that kiss. His hand relaxed. A part of him screamed. This was his opportunity to end her. A flick of his thumb would be all it would take. And yet he hesitated. There was something wrong. This creature was curbing her blood lust in the face of her prey. His tongue found hers despite himself, sliding against it, tasting the metallic, coppery taste of blood barely masked by wine. He was still deflecting the glamour and yet something within him was stirring, longing. Again the voice of his training screamed at him to end her now. Again he could not summon the will to do so. He returned the kiss, adding his own growing passion to it. His free hand sliding around her waist, up her back, and into her soft hair.

She felt his initial resistance fading as he relaxed his body and her kiss was reciprocated. She released her grip on his throat slightly, but her hand remained there, she couldn't take a chance. She had let her guard down once before and nearly paid for it when the object of her passion had turned out to be a hunter. The only thing that saved her that time was his inexperience, she had managed to catch his eye at the material moment as he was about to deliver the destructive blow. They had used stakes back then, granted they were modern versions of the crudely carved and unwieldy stakes that had been the norm, but still very effective. Thin metal with hardwood tips, honed to a severe point designed to penetrate the rib cage. Had the Hunter not been so nervous on his first mission, she would never have detected the sudden lurch in his heartbeat that gave away his imminent attack. She had caught his eye just in time, her glamour staying his hand just as the stake was inbound to her heart. She wasn't sure why she didn't kill him, she had every reason to after all. Maybe her brethren were right, she was holding onto a humanity she no longer required, holding onto a life that no longer wanted her. She later learned that he had been dismissed from hunter duties, once their identity was known, they were ineffective. A vampires ability to recall even the smallest of details, a detriment.

Several sketched portraits of hunters were displayed in the Citadel, the underground city where the oldest and wisest of her kind formulated rules and regulations. She knew that they also dispensed whatever justice they deemed necessary on vampires who failed to follow protocols. The Citadel also housed the scientific wing, where a group of very talented, very well read and educated vampires had solved most of the issues that made vampires so easily identifiable by the human populous. They had found a way to manipulate matter, eliminating the non reflective nature of her species, which for centuries was a huge giveaway to hunters. So many vampire deaths were caused because it was impossible to hide that trait from the hunters, whose arsenal included a mirror that would identify what they were in seconds.
Now they blended in better than ever, although hunters were becoming more sophisticated in their methods to detect them.

Here she was, in an uptown hotel, her lips and tongue in a ballet with a handsome stranger. She let go of his wrist, and ran her hand over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling his hard well toned body underneath her fingers. Finding his belt, her nimble fingers unfastened it, with a fast movement, she pulled it free from the belt loops. She slipped the belt around his neck and fed the end of it back through the buckle...releasing her grip on his throat, deciding the belt would be a better option for what she had planned. The belt pulled close against his throat, firm enough so he knew it was there and sending him a message that she had not relinquished control of him. She held onto the end of the belt, as her other hand unbuttoned his trousers, her long fingers reaching in and pulling his cock free. She glanced down, his want of her evident by his state of arousal. She looked up into his eyes, detecting a mixture of passion and nervousness deep within them, every now and then seeing a flicker of daring, that betrayed his thoughts.

Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his, she slid down his body onto her knees, one hand just below his chest holding onto the belt. Her other hand closing around his shaft and bringing it to her lips, her green eyes flashed momentarily as she parted her lips slightly and allowed his turgid cock to slide into her mouth. Her hot wet throat engulfing his length, as her tongue manipulated the underside of his shaft, rubbing and flicking over it. His cock being taken deeper into her, until her ruby lips were at his base. Her tongue moving past his shaft and running over his balls, causing him to flinch. She felt his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly, her mouth finding it's rhythm as her soft lips and tongue danced firmly but sensually over his throbbing erection. Her hand instinctively moving down between her legs, pulling up the front of her skirt and seeking out her wetness. Pushing her lace panties aside, she dipped her fingers into her soaking wet sex and began to groan as the pleasure surged through her, a groan that reverberated down his shaft, causing him to start slightly and grip her hair tighter. She kept her eyes on his...locked in passion as she devoured him.

Her hand relaxed from his wrist. The passion in her kiss redoubling as it burned into him. He felt her glamour waver slightly. She was losing control to her passion. How was that even possible. He was a meal to her, nothing more. And yet he felt something change within her. He should act now. He should have acted 5 minutes ago. Flick the trigger on the ring, the explosion of compressed holy water would create a mist cloud that would either prove fatal, or enough of a distraction to finish her off by other means. Both his hands were free. He should end her wretched, miserable existence right here and now. His free hand caressed her cheek as it too moved into her soft hair. All he could do was pull her closer to him, deepen his kiss, and moan at the pleasure of it.

Every nerve ending screamed in delight as her fingers slid over his body. He wanted her touch more than anything he had ever known. He could feel his knees get weak as she reached his belt. His cock standing, straining hard against the fabric of his boxer shorts. He could feel the precum dribble from the tip with every throb her kiss and touch elicited. His belt was around his neck without the slightest protest. The kiss broken, his whole world dissolved into two pools of emerald as her hands moved down his body. Her touch was electric on his cock, sending chills racing across his body. He wanted her touch. He wanted her kiss. He wanted all of her. She moved to her knees. Oh how he longed for her lips, her wet, warm mouth to envelop him. As she did so, her eyes never leaving his, he could feel his whole body burn. His hands gripping more tightly in her hair as she took him all the way down her throat. Moans escaped unbidden from his throat as her tongue moved. He couldn't comprehend what she was doing, he only felt the rush of passion and pleasure she evoked within him.

He watched as she slid her hand between her legs. His mouth began to water. He wanted to taste her. He let his hand leave her hair, running down her neck to her shoulder. She tightened the belt a little as she felt him try to pull her arm up. The pleading in his eyes, the quick lick of his lips brought her consent as she allowed her hand to be lifted to his lips. The smell of her sex was heavenly, the taste, exquisite. He didn't think it possible but he surged even harder in her mouth. Another delighted moan from her throat caused his whole body to quiver. He watched her pull his cock from her mouth, stroking it's length, slick with her saliva.

She rose then, pulling on the belt, reaching his mouth for another long, deep kiss. The shared taste of their passions was intoxicating to him. She pulled the belt down hard. The fire in her eyes grew more intense. His face was now level with her breasts. He kissed through the light fabric of her blouse, his teeth finding her erect nipple and biting it. Two pools of green passion stared back at him, showing him the pleasure she felt. The other nipple was between his teeth now. He pulled. Her head rolled back. His hands sliding down her back, taking your ass firmly in his hands. Another jerk of the belt and he was on his knees. Looking down at him, she placed a foot on his shoulder. In one quick movement she kicked him onto his back. Then she squatted down, pulling her skirt to her waist, her sex inches above his mouth. She pulled up on the belt, forcing his face into her wetness.

He slid her soaked panties to the side and buried his face in her wetness. His face was soaked from her cum in moments. His tongue racing over her clit. He could see her mounting pleasure in her eyes, looking down on him intently. His lips started to suckle her swollen clit. her back arched as he slid two fingers into her. Her yelp of pleasure only enticing him to thrust faster, suck harder, and for his tongue to move faster. He slid his other hand over her ass, squeezing, digging his fingers into her soft flesh.

Electricity raced through her as his mouth and fingers began a delicious symphony on her hot wet pussy. She pulled upwards on the belt, forcing his face hard against her greedy cunt as she began to grind on his mouth. His expert fingers working her g spot and sending wave upon wave of pleasure through her. She lost herself in him, the tantalising feel of his tongue as he lapped and flicked over her hot sex. Her eyes, blazing with passion met his and locked onto them, swimming within the clouds of passion she saw swirling in the ocean blue.

She arched her back, reaching behind her with her free hand until she found his throbbing shaft, her long slender fingers curling around it and beginning to stroke firmly. His heat radiating through her hand as she heard him groan. Her hips rolling as she continued to grind on his face, feeling her muscles contract as her orgasm hit, rushing through her and flooding her pussy. Her pulsating cunt gripping his fingers tightly as her cum coated his hand and tongue. She let out a loud cry, surprising herself with the volume of it, as her back arched further. Her fangs emerging as her head was thrown back in the heat of her passion. As her orgasm began to cease she turned her head away so he couldn't see her mouth, she couldn't give away what she was.


She retracted her fangs as quickly as she could and lifted herself off his face, pulling him up by the belt around his neck. She got on all fours, holding the belt over her shoulder as she pulled him onto her from behind. She felt him wrap her hair around his fist and pull back hard as his cock found her welcoming entrance and he plunged inside her roughly.

He felt her whole body shudder as her cries of passion reverberated around the room. His face now drenched in the torrent of her flowing cum. Her hand squeezed him hard, unbelievably hard as he caught sight of her fangs. The glamour faltered and failed. She had lost herself completely in her own pleasure. Her nature was laid bare before him: a strength that belied her small frame, fangs that could tear out his throat. He would have let her. In that moment, he would have let her bite him, take her fill of him. He knew he was in mortal danger. The madness of that thought, the thrill of it, was intoxicating. Glamour or not, he was lost to her, completely.

He forgot about the rings, the amulet, he forgot his training, as she crawled away from him. She didn't need her glamour or his belt to compel him, she was what he wanted. he wanted to fill her, feel her wrapped around him. His throbbing cock was drooling precum as she looked over her should with eyes filled with need. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her wetness. He was rewarded with a deep moan and a hard pull on his belt. In one fluid motion he was inside her. She was so tight, he could feel himself stretching her as she took every last inch of him. Her back arched as she as she pulled the belt and pushed herself back down the length of his shaft. His hands gripping her hips as he plunged deeper and deeper into her. Faster and harder he pushed into her over and over. His hand slipped into her hair. His fist knotting in her red curls they pulled each other into a deep kiss. He could feel himself on the cusp of climax. A deep throaty moan escaped him as she clenched herself tightly around his cock. Her eyes bored into his as he began to quiver, his breath catching, his muscles clenching. She nodded and smiled her eyes half closed. The waves washed over him. His moans turned to a scream as he filled her with his cum. Her screams began as his ceased, his body convulsing, pushing into her as her torrent began again, drenching him.

They held each other, shaking, in the aftermath of their shared pleasure. Their breathing was ragged. He could feel her warmth pressed into him. He waited for the strike, unsure he even cared anymore that it would come. He looked down into her eyes with resignation in his heart. He saw hesitation in those beautiful green eyes. She looked up at him with a sad smile. She sighed deeply.

"You're not safe here."

They had said it at the same time.

Her eyes bulged as the realization set in but made no movement to escape his embrace. She merely sighed once more and kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss passionately. He looked past her to his watch; there would be time for more. His arms held her tightly as their kiss deepened.

He took out his phone, waited, staring at the screen. He could still smell her on him, taste her on his tongue. He input a text message. Erased it. Tried again, erased it again. He sighed deeply. Input a message with a smile on his face. He pressed send.

"False Flag Code 85 Alpha"

He looked back at the hotel he had left her less than ten minutes ago. He knew this wasn't over as she must as well. They would meet again.

She stood naked at the hotel window, staring out into the quiet street below. Rain began cascading down the window pane in rivulets, distorting her view of him as he hurried up the street, turning his collar up, head bowed, headed to the adjacent car park. She watched as the amber hazards flashed on a dark sedan, indicating that he had disabled the alarm with his key fob. He turned and looked up at the hotel momentarily, seeing a faint outline of a dark figure in the window, backlit by a dim glow in the room. He opened the car door, got in and she watched him drive off.

She took pause, appreciating how lucky she had been that he had not ended her. What had she been thinking? It was stupid of her to be so reckless. She knew better than that, but her lust for human contact, for the one thing she desired above all else, had clouded her judgement tonight. She had always craved the touch and passion of mortals over the cold unfeeling sexual encounters she had with her own kind. The warmth of their bodies comforted her, reminded her of things she was losing touch with, things assigned to the past. Hot breath on her face, the heat of a tongue in her mouth and the strong and rhythmic beat of a heart against her ear as she lay with her head on a warm chest, rising and falling with each breath.

She closed the curtains and headed for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she turned the shower on and let it run while she turned to the mirror above the sink. She gazed at her reflection, the pallid hue of her face almost iridescent in the artificial lighting, her bright green eyes holding the wisdom she had attained over the last 118 years, 97 of those as a Vampire. But they held something else, a sadness, a longing for something she would never possess, children. That option had been stripped from her on the night she was changed forever. A change she never asked for, never wanted, but here she stood, a shell devoid of warmth, clinging onto her humanity with cold slender fingers, knowing one day, she would lose her grip and be lost to the darkness.

Humanity was frowned upon in the Citadel, the Sanguine Brethren, the oldest Vampires who held counsel there, had no tolerance for any of them who failed to relinquish their grasp on their mortal emotions, citing that they put the Citadel and their kind in danger. Compassion, pity, love and kindness to mortals, were among those emotions prohibited entirely. Any Vampire not in compliance would be dispatched swiftly and without mercy upon discovery. She could see the reason for such harsh retribution, all would be put at risk and eliminated, as had happened 34 years ago in the Alaskan Citadel. A Vampire had failed to extinguish the life of a mortal after feeding, allowing them to live. Two weeks later that same victim, who had tipped off authorities, had pointed him out in a local park. He'd been followed and once day break arrived, the Citadel was destroyed, along with everyone inside. 364 Vampires in total, the oldest 3157 years old. A tremendous loss and one which the Brethren were determined would not be repeated.

She turned from the mirror and stepped into the shower cubicle, the warmth of the water cascading over her lithe body. She put her head under the shower, allowing the water to encapsulate her. Running through the events of the night in her mind. Confused about the reason he had spared her. Why he didn't seem afraid of her and had almost resigned himself to the fact she could have ended him, almost accepting of it. His heartbeat had remained steady, deliberate, almost as though he already knew what she was before he arrived, but that was incredulous to her, it didn't make sense. She did know that if the Brethren ever found out that she was seeking out mortals for carnal pleasure, she would be eliminated, she knew it and yet, she craved it, wanted it, needed it. She knew it was dangerous, putting herself in peril to sate her appetite, but she couldn't imagine never having those feelings again, that touch, his touch. She finished showering, while flashes of their encounter replayed in her head, she had never lost focus like that before, never lost control, confusion enveloped her, kept company by the memory of the passion they had shared. She stepped out of the shower, dried off and got changed. Putting her clothes in the suitcase she had brought with her and donning leather trousers and a red silk top. Sitting on the bed she put her shoes on, pinned her wet hair into a tight bun and reached for the phone in the room. She pressed for an outside line and dialled the Citadel.

A gravelly male voice at the other end of the line answered "Hello?". It was Fabian. "Hi Fabian it's Ayiana, can you send a car to the Belle Vue, it's going to be light soon, I need to come in?". "Sure Ayiana, consider it on it's way". He hung up. Fabian wasn't much for conversation. She redialled, this time calling the reception. The call was answered on it's third ring. "Hi this is Ms Santo in room 182. I'm expecting a car to pick me up shortly, can you ready my bill? I'm on my way down now, thank you". She put the phone down, grabbed her case and after having a final look around the room, she walked out, closing the door behind her.

It was a bigger den than they had thought. They had been expecting three Class D creatures at most. They had found five and their Class B sire instead. They were outmatched and the operation had quickly turned to a slaughter. He had sent out requests for back-up but he knew they would be at least an hour away. This was meant to be a quick in and out operation, a training exercise. The intel had seemed rock solid, the three vamps were staked within moments of the initial assault. A good initiation for the group of younger hunters. However, while engaging in a routine sweep of the building, a basement that did not figure on any architectural drawings was discovered, and a brash member of his team had gone in before calling it in. At that point, all hell broke loose. His five man team was slaughtered in moments. The Class B had torn them to bloody shreds before they could even react. He was the last one of the team left. He had quickly dispatched the other two and managed to wound the sire, but that had only managed to push him into a full blood rage. He was out of time, out of weapons, and out of options. The best he could hope for at this point was a tactical strike to take down the entire building, and hopefully the sire with it. It was always a possibility in a raid; better that than to let this creature continue it's existence. As he called it in he felt the hand close around his throat, a familiar voice at his ear.

"You're not safe here."

He woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding through his chest. his whole body chilled and shaking. The voice ringing in his ears, instinctively raising a trembling hand to his neck as he swallowed hard. She had been haunting his thoughts and his dreams for three weeks, ever since that night. Her voice was now a new addition to that old nightmare, that old memory. He squinted at the clock on his bedside table, just after four in the morning. He had just begun his breathing and meditation exercises to still his mind when his phone buzzed. He checked the text message.

"Code Omega"

A hunt had been authorized. Fifteen minutes later he was equipped and driving to the rendez-vous point. This was going to be a full tactical strike. Two known Class B's were holding up in a residential neighbourhood. A ten person team was assembled five minutes away and given the briefing. It would be a daytime raid to ensure containment and a minimum of collateral damage. Drones perched at high altitude had been monitoring the comings and goings of both creatures and both were confirmed to be inside. The raid was executed with clockwork precision with only minor injuries to four members of the team. They then began their sweep of the house. The house was cleared with only two strange discoveries. They found a small cache of hunter weapons and a camera with a high powered telephoto lens. The first was not uncommon, many of these creatures took trophies from unsuccessful hunters. He turned on the camera and began to scan through the memory card, steeling himself for what he might find: some of these creatures had disgusting kinks and often kept trophies of another kind. But identifying victims and giving their families some sense of closure was part of the job. What he found was not what he expected but it did send a chill up his spine. It was her. Picture after picture of her. They located the creatures' cell phones. They would need to be cracked and analyzed. For not the first time today Duncan's thoughts turned to her but for the first time ever, he was concerned for one of these creature's safety.

She stood back in the shadows, watching him. He stumbled, giggling to himself and muttering. She caught the scent of the alcohol from him and watched as he weaved his way down the alley. The misty rain swirling in the breeze, bringing an autumn chill to the air and soaking her hair and face. She looked around her, checking to ensure that they were alone, before she stepped from the darkness and slowly followed him. Quietly pulling up the zipper on her leather jacket and placing her mobile phone in the back pocket of her blue jeans, she moved with stealth. Her footsteps deliberate and silent, as she tentatively stepped around puddles and avoided the litter strewn across the alley floor.

This was her first hunt in weeks. She had grown cautious, deciding to stay within the relative security of the Citadel following her unintended liaison with a hunter. She found the requirement to feed regularly diminishing as the years passed by. Besides which, the Citadel had a healthy stock of human blood to sustain them all. But there was nothing comparable to the fresh flow and taste of it direct from the source.

Her prey suddenly stopped, she froze, observing him from several feet away. She couldn't risk him seeing her before she could close the gap, couldn't risk him crying out. There was no chance of using her glamour on him in the dark at such distance, if he couldn't see her eyes it was totally ineffective. He turned to face the soot blackened wall, undid his zipper and began to urinate. The pungent smell reaching her nostrils. He began humming a tune, as he swayed back and forth in his intoxicated state. He zipped up his pants and turned, continuing his staggered walk.

She closed in fast, grabbing the back of his neck and piercing the skin with her fingernails. Her other hand moving round and pressing hard over his mouth, she pushed him forcefully against the grime covered walls of the alley. A muffled cry of surprise escaped his throat, as his hands grabbed onto her arm and unsuccessfully attempted to pull it way from his mouth. She looked at his face, his eyes wide and panic stricken, darted over her features, relaxing as her gaze penetrated his. "Don't move, don't make a sound!" She hissed at him. She felt his body slump slightly, as the tension and panic subsided. His arms dropped to his sides in an act of abandonment. She studied his face, estimating his age to be around 36. She removed her hand from his mouth, gripping his shoulder tightly, her other hand moved to his left wrist, where her delicate fingers located his pulse and held him there. His heart was racing, a little too fast, she needed him to calm down slightly. If she bit him now the flow would be too forceful, an untameable torrent that she would find difficult to contain. "Relax, everything is fine". She spoke softly, reassuringly, while monitoring his pulse constantly. She stared into his grey blue eyes, the same storm coloured eyes that she had locked onto 3 weeks prior; a Hunter's eyes. She dismissed the thought and brought her attention back to the moment, she was hungry. His heart rate had normalised and she wasted no time.

She grabbed his hair, pulling his head to one side, exposing the flesh containing overlapping highways that carried his life force. She leaned in, her lips parting and her fangs extending, biting down hard against his flesh, feeling it give way as her fangs punctured his skin. The immediate hot flow of human blood flooded her mouth, coating her tongue. The coppery taste was blissful, tinged with the slight bitterness of the alcohol he had consumed. She drank, deeply and greedily, her hand firmly on his wrist. His heart rate began to decrease, a little more and she would have to stop or risk killing him. Her green eyes flashed brightly as she drained more and more, the delicious taste of him exciting her more than she anticipated, his pulse growing weaker and weaker. She should stop, but she didn't want to, she couldn't. She bit deeper, her hunger overtaking her completely. She felt him slump down, trying to catch him before he hit the floor. Blood lust replaced by panic, as she lay him gently on the wet concrete. She checked his pulse, a pit in her stomach hit with force when she realised he was dead. Her mind raced, eyes darting in the darkness of the alleyway. What had she done? She had never intentionally taken a life, her humanity was too strong. Confusion, shock and disgust in herself, washed over her. Was she loosing her grip already? Was she becoming the true monster that she so despised in others of her species, unkind, cruel, merciless and without conscience? She backed away from him, watching the blood snake down his neck being diluted by the fine rain. The last remnants of his life being washed away in the darkness of a dirty and rat infested alley.

The sound of voices approaching brought her back to her senses, she turned and sped off, self preservation a more urgent requirement than the disposal of his lifeless form. She headed back to the Citadel after calling Fabian for a car. Sitting in the back seat in darkness, her mind in turmoil. Turning her thoughts to the dead man in the alley, she wept silently. Hiding her tears from the driver, who glanced suspiciously at her in the rear view mirror. He spoke in a stern voice "Callub has called a meeting tomorrow night in the great hall. Everyone is to attend, no exceptions! It seems there has been another hunter raid, two dead from what I gather. Callub is enraged, but then again, nothing new there!" He chuckled. "They are talking about a big offensive, to take out the hunters once and for all or some shit like that. Anyway, just giving you the heads up. So don't be going anywhere tomorrow night". "Hadn't planned on it". She replied quietly. The car sped through town and out to the old abandoned oil wells that masked the Citadel beneath.

He watched her strip for him. Her whole body writhing as she slipped off the tight, black cocktail dress. She had not been wearing underwear. He enjoyed the way the light played against the soft curves of her dark skin. She continued to move to some unheard rhythm as she danced for him in noting but thigh-high stiletto boots. Her long, black, curly hair waving as her head swayed, falling across her large, firm breasts. She was completely under his power, she had been from the moment their eyes had met. He had chosen her the day before. She was the perfect victim: a minority and a prostitute. No one would care when she disappeared. He motioned her towards him. Her gyrating stopped as she got down on all fours and crawled towards him across the motel room floor. Her breasts swaying back and forth between her arms as she moved. He watched her round ass quiver as she approached the bed. He watched her come to him, mouth watering. Perhaps he would have some fun with her before he fed.

She continued to crawl on all fours as she got onto the bed he was laying on, with a hungry smile. She slid her hand up his leg until she found his bulging cock, letting her fingers slide across it's length. She undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. She licked her lips as she pulled down the front of his boxers, releasing his swollen cock. She smiled as she pulled the boxers and jeans down, past his feet and threw them onto the floor. She kissed her way, slowly up the inside of his leg, inching her way past his knee, up the inside of his thigh. She opened his legs as she kissed, licked, and teased his balls. Her tongue slipped down to lick his asshole. He actually shivered. This was a new sensation for him and he was enjoying the novelty. Her tongue played as he spread his legs for her even more, inviting her to continue. She knelt between his legs, one hand gripping the shaft of his cock while the other gripped his balls as one finger began to slip into his ass. She smiled at him as he writhed in pleasure. She then licked the length of his shaft. He moaned as she slid her tongue around the head of his cock, the earthy taste of his precum made her moan as well. She then took the tip into her mouth, his hand slid into her hair, grabbing a fistful as his moans deepened. He pushed down on the back of her head and she immediately took him down her throat. He grunted as his cock pushed into the tightness of her throat. She kept him there, unable to breathe, her hand gripping the base of his shaft until she had to pull her head back but his hand kept her there. He enjoyed as she writhed and struggled. Such pitiful creatures. A cruel smile crossed his lips as he allowed he to pull back. Ribbons of saliva were trailing from her mouth, down her chin as she coughed and gasped for breath. Once again he pulled her down onto his cock, pressing it as far as he could down her throat. She removed her hand from the base of his cock as she once again took every last inch of him into her tight throat. She let her hand slide down her stomach, a finger slipping between her wet pussy lips. She brought that finger to his lips. He enjoyed the taste, but the warmth of her flesh in his mouth caused his fangs to extend. He had had enough play. His hunger had become to much, he needed to feed. Just as soon as he came, he would rip out her throat. He was so close, but then he heard a click, felt a strong jolt, and everything went black.

He could not move. He could not see. He was in agony. He knew instinctively it was past dawn. He began to panic when he heard the voices.

"Good job, Ramirez. Your first solo hunt of a class C and you managed to take him alive as requested. Full marks."

Another voice echoed through the pain that he was becoming more and more aware of, tearing at every nerve ending.

"I was trained by the best. Oh, look, I think he's woken up."

He felt something slam into his stomach. It burned. He screamed as he felt the sunlight burning away his flesh. Then it stopped as quickly as it started. He heard her voice at his ear.

"Good morning, Sunshine. It's a bright beautiful, sunny day today. So if you don't want me to pull you out into it inch by inch I suggest you tell Mr. Duncan here everything he wants to know. And there's no use struggling, I put about a hundred thousand volts straight through your spinal cord last night. Don't worry though, if you cooperate, you'll heal, in time."

The next voice he did not recognize, it was male, cold, and measured.

"You will tell me what I want to know, or your miserable existence ends in this room. Not all at once. we can keep you alive and in agony for weeks if we have to."

The interrogation went very well. He got exactly what he expected and a few extra details. These miserable creatures could so easily be turned against each other. He plunged the stake into his heart almost as an afterthought.

Ramirez stepped towards him, a pained expression on her face.

"What was that about, Duncan? Who's the redhead in those pictures? That looked awfully personal."

He walked past her on the way to the bathroom to wash-up in silence. He washed his face then looked up into the mirror. He had changed. His black hair was now streaked through with white. Twenty five years of hunting these monsters. He had twelve solo kills to his credit. The scars of those battles were etched across his angular features, his crooked nose that had never healed straight. It had never been personal. He had always been cold, calculating, and efficient. This time it was personal, this time it had a name: Ayiana. She had no clue what was coming for her, but he would do everything he could to stop it. His cellphone buzzed with an incoming text. He input the password and read it just as Ramirez walked into the bathroom, she had received the same message.

"Code Omega Omega"

A hunting team had been ambushed.

They arrived at HQ Fortunately, it was Johanson's team. They had gotten hit by at least twenty vampires and twice that number of thralls, all heavily armed. It would have been more than enough to take down a regular team of hunters. Of course they had not been prepared for what Johanson was capable of or even what he was. He had transformed after the first member of his team was killed. Once the dust settled there was only himself and one member of his team of six left standing. Had he not been wearing his amulet, who knows where his rage would have taken him. The entire time of the debriefing Duncan fingered the amulet around his own neck, HQ's dirty little secret: fighting fire with fire.

She awoke slowly, opening her eyes and focusing in on her room within the Citadel. The ceiling light drawing her gaze as she waited for her mind to awaken. She propped herself up on her elbows and allowed a long drawn out breath to escape her lips, glancing at the digital clock display that was projected on the wall at the foot of the bed. It was only 3pm, she hadn't slept long, she rarely did lately. It had been 4 days since she had taken the life of the man in the alley. She had tried hard to put it from her mind, but in quiet moments such as this, it invaded her thoughts, took hold and wouldn't let go, like the locked jaws of a pit bull terrier.

She swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed, her elbows on her knees, as she leaned forward, putting her head in her hands. She sighed deeply, straightening up and running her hands through her long hair. She scanned the room, the plain square box that she called home, windowless, with grey painted walls, only broken up by the carved wooden furnishings. It was basic, but functional, not intended for long term occupancy, but as a bolt hole, a hideout. The more permanent rooms were on the lower floor, highly decadent and more ornate, but they were for class B Vampires. Class C's got a bed and little sticks of furniture that no one else needed.

She stood up, crossed the room and picked up her bath robe that was draped over the armchair. She covered her nakedness with it, tying the belt tight around her slender waist. She hated it here, but it was safe at least. There were others that lived out in what they called Satellite Dens, rented houses converted to accommodate her kind. All had cellars or some underground system of sorts, where they could hide out during the day. She had toyed with the idea of renting one herself, but the thought of being isolated outside the confines of the Citadel, made her nervous. So she hired rooms at the Belle Vue, where she could indulge in her penchant for sex with humans, undisturbed and relatively secluded. She had discovered that a few vampires had stayed there recently, she wasn't sure why, but she did know by the bodies found in the local vicinity, that they were no lovers of the human race.

She opened the door to her room and stepped out into the long corridor, taking a right towards the communal showers. She padded along the patterned carpet, running her fingers along the darkly polished wainscoting, interrupted by doors to other Class C bedrooms. The musty smell of old wood and tobacco emanated from the aged and reclaimed timber panels. She reached the door to the showers, pushing it open and entering the tiled room. She quickly showered and then returned to her room, picking out a pair of jeans and a blue halter top, she turned to put them on the bed, then remembered the meeting that had been called for that night. It had originally been planned for the night after her unfortunate encounter in the alleyway, but had been postponed until tonight. She had no idea why, but expected it had something to do with Gideon, Callub's older brother. He had left hurriedly the night she had returned. Something had been planned, but she had been kept out of the loop, which surprised her. She was sure they had their reasons for the secrecy surrounding his departure, one that she was not privy to at present. Maybe tonight they would reveal what was going on behind the scenes, but knowing the brothers, she may never know. They tended to share only what was necessary, cautious and untrusting as they were.

She had heard that Gideon had returned last night and so the meeting was rescheduled for this evening. Protocol demanded that, as all meetings were considered formal occasions, everyone was required to dress accordingly. She put the jeans and top back and instead chose a long green velvet dress, that hugged her curves. The side split in the dress was fairly high, stopping just below the hip bone, but she liked the way she felt in it. She placed the dress on the bed, throwing a pair of black lace topped holdup stockings and a lace thong on top of it. She perused her shoe rack, selecting a pair of high stilettos to wear with the ensemble. She sat in front of the dressing table, looking at her reflection in the mirror and started to apply her makeup and do her hair, wondering what the evening would bring.

It was 7pm and she joined the steady stream of those entering the great hall, a large circular room with wainscoting all around the walls and a marble floor, inlaid with the emblem of the Sanguine Brethren. Four rows of church like pews ran three quarters of the way round the room, all facing the long ornate wooden table where the heads of the Citadel sat in their throne like red velvet chairs. She took a seat in the third row directly facing the front of the Great Hall, the second row reserved for Class B's and the first row for the Class A's and distinguished guests. The seats next to her and behind her filling up with other Vampires of various classes. The high domed ceiling creating numerous echoes, as both footsteps and voices filled the space with noise.

She looked around her, the hall was packed, she estimated around 600 Vampires had attended this meeting. A good turnout, but then again, this was the largest Citadel. She recognised most of the Vampires here, but didn't have personal dealings with many of them. Most stayed in the deeper of the Citadel's 5 levels. The first three were used for accommodation, the higher the class, the lower the level. The reasoning being that if there was a strike, Class C's would be the first line of defence, followed by Class B's. This would buy time for the Class A's, such as Gideon and Callub, to make their escape through the tunnel system at the basement level. Level 4 was the Scientific wing, she never ventured that far, it was off limits to anyone but the Class A's, of which there were only 5.

She was startled by the loud strike of an ornate gong near the door, the sound reverberating loudly throughout the hall, signifying that the meeting was about to start. The large wooden double doors opened and the five Class A's led by Gideon entered the chambers. Everyone stood, a mark of respect for their longevity and rule of the Citadel. They took their seats, Gideon and Callub at the centre of the long table. Another bang on the gong and everyone sat again, all eyes on the highest Brethren in the room. Gideon scanning the faces of every Vampire, expressionless, cold, sadistic. His bronze coloured eyes, beautiful, but hiding the true savage nature behind them. His long brown hair framing his chiselled face. His elbows resting on the table, his fingers, almost skeletal with long talon like fingernails, knitted together in front of him. Callub sat to his left, his long dark brown hair pulled back sharply into a ponytail. Piercing blue eyes deep set in his skull, peered out from his prominent brow. His features not as severe as Gideon's, but he had an air of authority about him that was unmistakeable. All five Class A's wore their velvet robes draped over their shoulders atop of embroidered waistcoats and frilled shirts. Shiny leather trousers and pointed toed shoes finished off their look. Callub stood, his hands pressed against the table, leaning forward to address the crowd before him.

"Brethren, before we move to discuss other matters, I have dire news! We, Gideon, Sebastian, Vincent, Andre and I, have been given information of treachery and deceit!" He paused to scan the hall, his fierce eyes glinting and filled with anger. "It was brought to our attention, that one of our own has been indulging in practices strictly prohibited by the protocols in place at this Citadel. A Satellite Den had observed some nefarious behaviour by someone in this room!". Every Vampire in the hall began looking at each other suspicously, as audible gasps echoed around the chamber. "After being given this information, our investigator, Monsieur Laroch, was tasked with delegating and directing the gathering of evidence of this heinous breach of laws, specifically put in place to ensure the safety of all present! One of you" he pointed around the hall, encompassing the whole room. "One of you, has broken protocol 4, interacting with, showing humanity to and having sexual relations with humans and allowing them to live!" he shouted, the rage evident by his clenched fists and hateful stare. Shock hit Ayiana like a hammer blow to the chest. Her eyes widened, as fear swept through her. She tried to maintain her composure, but her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, her mind racing. "Bring in Monsieur Laroch!".

The large doors opened and in walked a gnarly thin man. His bald head reflecting the candlelight from the sconces around the room. His long drawn features giving him the appearance of a bird, his hooked nose almost beak like. He walked to the centre of the room, turned towards the Leaders and bowed, a thin smile playing on his lips. Callub addressed him. "Monsieur Laroch. Would you tell us the evidence you have gathered and reveal the perpetrator to all present?" Callub sat back down, his fingers drumming angrily on the table. "If it pleases the Brethren" Laroch stated and bowed again, turning to face the seated Vampires. "A certain member of this Citadel, was sighted luring a human into a hotel room, the Belle Vue Hotel to be precise". Ayiana froze, panic welling up inside her. She glanced to the door, would she make it if she ran for it? Highly doubtful, with so many powerful members of her kind in the chamber. She ran through that scenario in her mind and knew it would be futile. "I organised for this despicable creature to be followed, knowing that they had released a human on a prior occasion after having carnal knowledge of them. I was given photographic evidence of the transgressions committed by this wanton creature! After several days of observation, enough evidence was gathered to proceed with a case against them. Having reviewed all the evidence presented and established guilt, only one punishment can be appropriate, death!" he paused and looked around him at all the horrified faces staring back. "The perpetrator is among us now, in this very room. The person who put their own needs above the safety and wellbeing of everyone here. Whose desires were placed at a higher importance then your existence. And who is this fiend? Who so callously placed your safety below their own gratification? You did!" he pointed an accusatory finger towards Ayiana. Her head swam, her body stiffened and a numbness struck her whole frame. "Malakai Sheraton!" Laroch continued. Gasps and mumbles filled her ears. Did she hear right? She looked about her, hearing movement behind her, she turned. Two Class B's had grabbed the arms of a male behind her. He struggled and tried to free himself, with no avail. The commotion continued only for a few seconds, before they dragged him to the centre of the hall.

Gideon stood this time, walking around the table, as Malakai was turned to face the crowd, his arms held fast by the two Vampires either side of him. Gideon approached an ornately carved wooden box on the table, opening it, he removed the item from inside, an equally ornate wooden stake. He walked slowly around Malakai until he was facing him. His eyes flashed with sadistic pleasure. Finally he spoke, his booming voice bouncing from the domed ceiling of the Great Hall and echoing around it. "Malakai Sheraton, you have been found guilty by the Sanguine Brethren of violation of protocol 4. The sentence for such a crime against your own kind, is death, sentence to be carried out immediately!". Malakai, struggling, began to plead for mercy. Gideon was not one to be merciful. With one swift movement he buried the stake deep in Malakai's heart. Malakai's last scream was cut short by the piercing of his chest, his face turned an ashen grey and he slumped, his head lolling back, eyes frozen in a wide fearful stare. "Take that piece of shit out of the Citadel and leave him in the desert to be devoured by the creatures out there!" Gideon hissed. Malakai was dragged from the room. "Now, remaining business will be postponed until Thursday night. We lost some brethren as most of you are aware, so tonight we celebrate them in the Ballroom! Go and enjoy yourselves, but heed the lesson you have learned here tonight. No crime will go unnoticed or unpunished. That is all, you may go!" Gideon strode from the room with purpose. Ayiana, still struck with the fear she felt, got up slowly and followed the others out into the ballroom, she needed a strong drink. The lesson she had witnessed tonight taught her something important. It hammered home to her that she couldn't stay here any longer.

He awoke again to her voice echoing in the darkness. His sheets were drenched in sweat, his heart racing. His fingers absently trailed across the etchings of the amulet that never left his neck. The last line of defense against the rage that burned deep inside him, the beast that rattled it's chain, howling for release. A release it had only ever known once but longed for again. He began the breathing exercises as he did almost every night. He focused on his breath, his heart beat, slowly quieting the howls, or at least shutting them out of his mind. Calmed, he checked the time on the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table. It's blue, digital numbers told him he had only gotten three hours of sleep. His open laptop and notebook reminded him why. He logged back into the HQ's intranet. He was closing in on her. But then, so were those of her own kind who were hunting her. And he still didn't know why he felt he needed to save her. He had lovers before, but none had meant was this woman had, what Ayiana had meant. He let her name slip from between his lips, enjoying the sound of it. He was feeling like a love-sick teenager. But it was beyond him, like an entirely new beast had awoken within him, rattling a chain no amulet could silence.

He once again scanned through all the information they had gotten from the cracked cell phones on his computer. It confirmed much of what HQ had surmised of their enemy's tactics in dealing with internal descent and deviation. Duncan had used some of that information to disrupt the vampires' hunt of Ayiana, though he doubted he could ever do it again without HQ or the vampires knowing. All he could hope is that it had bought her some time. The information in those cellphones had also led Duncan to his next target. He had then used his influence to put Ramirez on a solo hunt to capture him. That interview had proven quite useful in narrowing down where she might be hiding as well as those who were hunting her. A subsequent raid would certainly be in order, he would just need to convince his superiors. He felt he was closing in on her but he knew the clock was ticking. He would have another chance to get information once the debriefing began three hours from now. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He looked into the eyes staring back at him in the mirror, once again he whispered her name as the steam began to hide his reflection.

The sole survivor of the trap that was supposed to have eliminated Johanson's team sat in an interview room that could have easily fit in any police department across the country. Three concrete walls and one mirrored. Three other thralls had survived the attack but had succumbed to the madness that being severed from their master's control sometimes caused, taking their own lives in the process. She was sitting on a folding chair at a stainless steel table, handcuffed to one of three steel rings welded to the table top. The only difference was the massive skylight that allowed the whole room to be flooded in sunlight. There was a giant of a man across from her. Well over six feet tall, a mountain of muscles rippling under an oxford shirt. His auburn hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Big brown eyes watched her quietly above a massive beard which hid the rest of his weathered face. He had been their target, his team. She was terrified. She felt nauseous. Her head pounded. All he did was watch her, massive arms folded across his chest. This was the man, no, he was no man, he was some kind of creature, a monster that had murdered her master. Her mind was a jumble of horrible memories. She had shot him, several times, as she watched him transform and then rip her world in half with his clawed hands. She shivered as she remembered what he had looked like as he had changed. She remembered the roar the monster had issued. She remembered the pain on her master's face as he died, just before she was buried by the rubble of a collapsed wall. She began to sob uncontrollably. She heard the door open behind her. Someone walked in, she heard his shoes on the concrete floor and the shuffling of papers.

"Caroline Rand."

She looked up as the second man pulled up an empty chair and sat next to the first. It was a name she had not heard or used since she began service with her master. The thought of all he had done for her brought about a fresh bout of sobs. She heard him speak again though she could not see him clearly through the blur of tears.

"Your name is Caroline Rand, age 32. According to official records, you began running away from an abusive home at age 12. Social workers noted multiple signs of neglect and abuse and yet you were always returned to your abusers."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"My name is Tenebria."

The voice went on not seeming to have heard.

"Mother, Diane, killed in a murder suicide involving a long term abusive boyfriend when you were 14. Father, unknown. No known living relatives. After your mother's death, you were bounced around the foster system until you aged out at 18. After that there were a few arrests for petty larceny, solicitation, and drug possession but you never did serious jail time for any of it. No known address, friends, or employment history. And that's where the official records end. As far as the world knows, Caroline, you disappeared without a trace at age 24."

She managed to speak a little louder this time.

"My name is Tenebria."

The man continued.

"Of course, we can guess the rest. Judging from the scars on your wrists and neck we found while treating your recent injuries, you met a vampire who fed on you. For whatever reason, instead of killing you outright or siring you, this monster decided to make you a thrall. For the last eight years you have been a servant, a slave to his glamour. We know the types of horrors you have been put through, Caroline, none of that is your fault. We're here to help you."

This time it was a scream as she strained against her restraints.

"My name is Tenebria. He was not a monster, you're the fucking monsters, whatever the fuck you are. He gave me my name. He gave me my life. And you fuckers took him from me. I will fucking kill you all."

She once again dissolved into sobbing. The man closed the folder he had been reading from and placed his hands gently on it. His voice was measured and calm.

"Your name is Caroline Rand. Your master is dead. You can go back to them if you want, but the ritual involved in purging the thralls of a dead master is not a pleasant one. The glamour will leave you in the next few days, but it will take time. Your lost humanity will return. Unfortunately, you will remember what you did as a thrall. Everything you did. All the innocents you led to him to be killed. All the innocents that died by your own hands."

She felt nauseous. Nothing of what he said could be true. She hadn't killed anyone. Not any real people. There had been the people she brought for her master to feed on, but she had been happy for the first time in her life and her master needed to feed. He had made her happy. How many had there been? The question came unbidden. Their faces swam past her memory. Her heart sank, she had watched them die. Had watched their throats torn open, had watched him drink their blood. She had disposed of their bodies. Her whole body began to shake. And still his calm, patient voice continued.

"I can see that the glamour is already beginning to fade. I can see the conflict in your face, the remorse for what you were made to do. I know you will help us, Caroline. You will tell us everything we need to know. After that, you will be cared for. We have helped many thralls recover to a normal life, in time. Some have even joined our ranks. It is by no means an easy road, but we will be there with you for every step of it."

The rest of the preliminary interview with the thrall had gone according to script. She would recover one day, but the stain that creature left on her would never truly fade. Society had failed this young woman so many times throughout her life, Duncan would be certain that it didn't fail her again. In the end, she gave them what they wanted: a name and a location.

Eight hours later he was sitting in a bar across from Johanson and Ramirez. The concern in their faces was hard to watch so he had spent the last ten minutes staring at the ice in a glass that sadly no longer contained any scotch. Ramirez cleared her throat.

"We're worried, Duncan."

Her hand reached across the table to touch his. He looked up at her.

"Liam. Please, just talk to us, nothing you say has to leave this table. We've been at this too long not to trust each other. Especially now. What's up with the redhead?"

Duncan looked at Ramirez whose face was all earnest concern then to Johanson who just seemed uncomfortable. He tried to stammer out a response but kept failing. He knew he could trust them, but could he trust himself anymore? Could he trust that he would not drag them into the madness that was consuming him. Ramirez grabbed his glass out of his hand.

"I'll go get this filled for you, but I want an answer by the time I get back."

The two men watched her walk away. When their eyes finally met, Johanson spoke with a voice that was a soft growl.

"Stop the bullshit, Liam. I know what this is about."

Duncan looked across the table to the big man unable to stammer out a reply.

"You want to save her, whoever or whatever she is. Just like you want to save our dear Ms. Rand. Just like you saved Ramirez. And because of that, I will help you and so will she. But I swear to you here and now, if you jeopardize her life in any way we will find out once and for all whose totem is stronger."

Duncan's eyes glanced down to see Johanson absently fingering his amulet. He stared at the runes carved across it's surface, the etched bear at it's centre, so much like the wolf that was at the centre of his own.

She stood at the bar in the ballroom nursing her Champagne, while the orchestra played Puccini's Humming Chorus, a favourite of hers. Callub had given several speeches about the Vampires that had been lost during an assault, the one that she had been given no knowledge of. She was perplexed as to why she hadn't been told, when most of those present were fully aware of it. She couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. What did they know? What did they suspect? Maybe she had been out when the meeting was held and she was reading too much into it? She took a sip of her drink, looking around the large gilded ballroom. It's marble floor, large crystal chandeliers and the friezes that adorned the cream coloured panels. She looked at the images. Scenes of battles between Vampires and man, heroic images where the Vampires stood proud above their defeated enemies over the various centuries. Her gaze moved to the seated thralls along the North wall. The human slaves dedicated to the service of her kind. Watching as their masters occasionally walked over to them and sunk their teeth into a wrist or neck and drained a little blood from them. They didn't even flinch, just allowed themselves to be used as items on a grotesque buffet. Of course she knew that they had been glamoured, forced to serve, to be used to do their master's bidding. Only Class B's and over had Thralls, Class C's being deemed to have inferior glamour abilities necessary for such prolonged and intense control of a human.

She stood lost in her thoughts when a voice interrupted them. "Can I interest you in a dance?". She turned to her left and saw Fabian standing there expectantly. His long blond hair falling softly about his shoulders, piercing blue eyes the colour of the Pacific ocean. He was handsome, athletic looking and around the same age she was, before she was turned; although Fabian was a Class B. He had a youthful look about him, but his eyes gave away his age. He was nearly 230 years old and had risen through the ranks quickly, being made the secretary to Sebastian. Part of his duties involving organising the safe passage of her kind back to the Citadel after hunts. He held out his hand to her, waiting for her to take it. "Not right now, but thank you Fabian" she replied politely. "I assure you Ayiana, it will be worth a great deal to you" he stated. She found his comment obnoxious and glared at him in disdain. She caught his eyes, the indication in them that he needed to tell her something, as he swept a glance towards the Brethren Leaders sat together at the far end of the ballroom. She instinctively reached out and placed her hand in his, putting her drink down on the bar. The orchestra playing a Beethoven symphony, as Fabian put one hand on the small of her back and lightly held her left hand, expertly dancing with her towards the entrance of the ballroom. She gazed at his face quizzically "Act normally, don't react" he whispered in her ear. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, her instinct was to pull away, but she heeded his words and allowed the kiss to happen, his soft lips moving to her neck and gently running back up to her ear. "They have been watching you" he muttered under his breath. He felt her body stiffen under his hand, as fear coursed through her. Her eyes wildly darting around the room. "Wha...what do you mean?" she stammered. A ball of dread seemingly lodged in her throat as she tried to speak. "Laroch, his henchmen. You've been followed for a few weeks now. They are waiting for the final evidence to arrive from the East Street Satellite Den" he whispered gently into her ear, as he nibbled on the side of her neck. "I haven't done anything!" she quietly uttered under her breath. He pulled away from her and gave her a look that told her that he was no fool. "Who do you think arranged the transport for the task?" he hissed into her ear. "I haven't had the opportunity to speak to you until now, but don't worry Ayiana, I will help you. I have plans in place to protect you. The last remaining evidence will not arrive, I will see to that. But you need to get out of here within the next two days!". She swallowed hard, the fear engulfing her. "I must go now then!" she muttered. "No! There are too many who could stop you if you leave now, they are watching. I will arrange things, but it will take time. It's imperative that you behave normally, while I get things organised. It will take a day or two, but I will get you out of here. It would need to be during the daylight, so they can't follow you" he whispered. "But how? Why are you helping me Fabian?" she uttered softly. "Leave the how to me. When the time is right, I will come and fetch you. As to the why, well, I have admired you for many years Ayiana. I know you barely noticed me, never giving me a second glance. But that's alright, we can't help who we are attracted to can we?" He smiled at her. "Fabian I, I.." He cut her off. "You don't have to explain to me, it's not necessary. But I would rather see you live, without me, then fall into their hands and meet the same fate as Malakai. Just trust me, that's all I ask of you" he replied. She nodded slowly, as the music died down and applause rang out. The two of them stood there and clapped lightly. "Well thank you for the dance Ayiana, you are the most graceful of creatures". Fabian kissed her hand and escorted her back to the bar. She ordered a Scotch and with shaky hands, downed it in one, before ordering another, as Fabian walked away.

Her head swam, mind racing so much she found it hard to gather her thoughts. Outwardly, she seemed perfectly calm, even returning smiles when they were given. Her eyes scanning the room, suddenly noticing that a few of the other Vampires were watching her intently. She spent the next half an hour downing Scotch after Scotch in an attempt to quell the fear that lay heavily within her. The crowd had thinned out, beginning to leave as the dawn approached. She turned and headed to the door, a sense of relief when she crossed the threshold and hadn't been stopped. She got back to her room, locking the door and leaning against it. The alcohol having the desired effect of numbing her to the panic that had knotted her stomach. She undressed and slipped between the sheets of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her mind drifted to the Belle Vue and the many encounters she had orchestrated there. But one stood out, one consumed her thoughts completely. She ran through that night with the Hunter, the passion she had felt, the deep connection they seemed to have. Kindred spirits thrown together for one night of lust and desire. But it was more than that to her, she craved him, was inexplicably drawn to him. Remembering his lips upon her, his urgent touch, the want in his eyes. His hard body against hers, ravenous in it's search for pleasure.

She closed her eyes, her hands running lightly over the swell of her breasts, as the memories took hold. She felt a tingle in her nipples and her fingers found them, hardening at the thought of him. She pulled at them, twisting and teasing them, until they stood hard and proud. Flicking her fingernails over them, sending pulses of pleasure through her body. She groaned softly as she pushed the sheet down that covered her. Gently running her hands down her toned body, passing her navel and heading to her smooth mound. Her middle finger seeking the warmth between her legs. She softly ran her fingertips up and down the smooth lips of her sex, rolling her hips gently, feeling the surges that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Moving her middle finger lower, she parted her lips with it, immediately being met with the hot wetness that escaped from her. She slowly dragged the wetness on her finger up towards her clit, using the fingers of her other hand to hold her lips apart and expose the clit from it's hooded abode. She gently began to rub on her swelling bud, coating it with the slickness on her finger. Circular motions, matched by the motion of her hips as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. She moved her middle finger back to the entrance of her soaked pussy, dipping it inside, a moan escaping her lips, causing her to open her legs wider to facilitate access. She delved deep inside her sopping cunt, feeling the tightness grip her finger and the wetness coating it. She slipped another finger in with it, the two of them working gently inside her, rubbing at her G spot, feeling her stomach tighten each time she brushed against it with her fingers. She pulled her fingers from her pussy, transferring the wetness back to her clit and circling it with firmer strokes. Pulling her knees up, she allowed them to fall either side of her, leaving herself completely open to the pleasure she was experiencing. Her hips gyrating as her fingers worked expertly on her engorged and tender clit. She dipped her fingers back inside her, forcing them in as far as she could, imagining it was her Hunter, probing her with his hands. The thought excited her, she began to furiously frig her dripping pussy, her thumb rubbing back and forth against her clit. Her other hand moving to her breasts and she tugged hard at her nipples, rolling them between her fingers. She felt the muscles in her face begin to pull, the tightness in her stomach and thigh muscles. Her breath quickening, as small gasps emanated from her throat. She wanted to cum, she needed to. Her fingers reaching a fever pitch, as her frame locked, her brow knitted and she let out a loud cry as she came hard on her hand. She lay back against the pillow, breathless, her fingers being held by her convulsing cunt. The velvet vice that engulfed her digits, pulsating wildly. Slowly she removed her fingers, letting out a sigh and allowing a torrent to escape her sex and run down her onto the lower sheet. She lay quietly, steadying her breath, absently running her cum covered fingers over her rock hard nipples, making them slick and glisten with wetness. The thoughts of him invading her mind. She lay still for a few moments, then got up, threw on her dressing gown and headed for the showers. Perhaps she would see him again...who knew?

Duncan left the bar, still unsure of almost everything in his life. He waved to Ramirez and Johanson as they drove off together. He couldn't help but suppress a smile, perhaps love was possible for someone like him after all.

***

It happened while she was brushing her teeth. The memories always haunted her the most in the quiet moments of her life. She knew she would not be able to sleep tonight. She rarely could without the meds no matter how many days, months, or years passed. After having watched Liam and Robert interview Caroline Rand through the one way mirror, it all came back harder than it had in many months. She knew what that poor woman would be going through, every day, for the rest of her life. She could remember their faces as she had watched them die. She remembered the sounds of their moans and screams as the life was drained from them. Sometimes they all came together in a great collage of horror, other times it was one very specific face that haunted her, sometimes her victims' faces, sometimes it was his. At least Ms. Rand's sire was dead, she would never see him again. She shivered at that thought; one day she might see Fabian again. She had been his thrall for five years. Five years she could never get back and hundreds of lives she helped him extinguish. She looked at herself in the mirror, staring at the scars on her neck. She winced at the memory of them. How he had found her, alone, afraid, abused; she had been the perfect victim. The thoughts that had once intrigued and beguiled her now left her nauseous and revolted. A movement caught her eye and distracted her from her past. She looked past her own reflection to watch him undress in the bedroom they had been sharing for the last year. He had been one of the biggest parts of her salvation. She couldn't help but smile as she watched him slip out of his clothes and get into their bed.

He rolled over as she approached, a great bear of a man, quite literally. When he saw the tears in her eyes he sat up and reached out to catch them up with his finger as his hand cupped her face.

"I can see the darkness is back. I guess I should have expected that. Do you want to talk about it?"

She held his massive hand in both of hers and nuzzled her face into it's strength.

"No, I don't need to talk about it. Knowing you're here is enough to chase it away. No matter how often it comes back you always chase it away."

He pulled her gently into his arms, she sighed, feeling so safe as she nuzzled into his massive, hairy chest her eyes focusing on the amulet that hung around his neck and it's little etched bear. She saw the scars around his neck that had still not healed from what the amulet had done when he transformed. She shivered, it always thrilled her a little to know what he could do even though she had only ever seen it happen once. She traced her finger lightly along the scars.

"Do you need to talk about what happened today?"

He held her hand against the scars.

"No. At least not yet. I lost a lot of good people today and will need time to process it all."

She hugged him tightly.

"I feel so safe in your arms."

His laugh was as big as he was; loud and raucous.

"You don't need my arms to feel safe. You are a highly trained killing machine. I should know, I helped Duncan train you. You are strong. You are fast. You are smart. You are Maria Sofia Arias Ramirez. You are La Libertad. And you'd kick my ass in a fair fight."

She smiled at the code name she had earned by having been the only known thrall to have broken her master's glamour while he still lived. When Fabian found out, he had been furious; he had hunted her like an animal. For weeks she had run from him and others of his kind. Alone, exhausted, terrified, penniless, and suicidal she had found Saint Quiteria's women's shelter. The nuns who ran it were affiliated with the hunters and always kept a sharp eye out for vampires and their thralls who preyed upon the most vulnerable. That was the first time she met Duncan. The next few months were a blur of interviews and tests, both physical and psychological. She was touted as a miracle, as a freak, an abnormality, a saviour depending on who you asked. That was eight years ago. She had been offered various therapy solutions to help with the trauma she had survived but she insisted that the only therapy she desired was vengeance. Only one hunter stood by her side to sponsor and train her: Duncan. She had been the first former thrall ever trained as a hunter, but she would not be the last. She had risen quickly through the ranks of the hunter's hierarchy and would soon be leading her own team of hunters.

He continued to hold her tightly against him. Her hands slid around his broad shoulders. She looked up into his bearded face, his eyes all tenderness and concern. God how she loved him.
She adored his kindness, his gentleness, he had been the first and only man she had ever been with of her own volition. He had brought so much joy into her life she knew she would never be able to fully repay him. She kissed him deeply, enjoying the feeling of his whiskers tickling her face.

"Make love to me, Papa Bear."

He moaned and chuckled.

"You know you make me feel like a complete pervert when you call me that."

She smiled coyly as she reached down to grasp his hardening cock.

"That's because you are a complete pervert, Papa Bear."

She kissed him deeply as she continued to stroke him, she could feel her own wetness grow as his hands slid across her body and pulled off the old t-shirt of his she slept in.

"Do you ever get jealous when I'm used as bait and have to get a blood sucker in a compromising position?"

His laugh was once again deep and loud.

"Why would I? They aren't even people, they're things. I don't get jealous of that wonderful purple vibe I use on you all the time, do I?"

She paused for a moment mid stroke.

"What about Duncan? If he's fallen in love with one of these things, what do we do?"

He didn't even pause to think.

"The same thing he would do for us. We have his back, period."

She was going to say something but his hands had found her breasts which he squeezed, his thumbs flicking her rock hard nipples. She moaned deeply as she gripped him with all her might, twisting and pulling him hard. She could feel her wetness start to dribble down her inner thigh as his hand slid down her stomach. She bit down hard on his shoulder as one thick finger slid between her sensitive lips and began to slip into her. She summoned all her strength to push him onto his back and straddle him, his pulsing cock still in her grip. She started to rub the tip of his cock against her wet pussy lips and her clit. Biting her lower lip she started to push down on him. She gasped as she stretched around his cock. He was so big. She remembered how much it had stretched her the first time, leaving her sore and smiling the next day constantly reminding her of what they had shared. She was a lot more used to it now but it was always a bit of a shock when he first slid into her. She gasped and moaned as he began to thrust up into her. It took her a moment to recover her senses enough to match his rhythm.

His whiskers tickled her breasts and her neck as he feverishly kissed, licked and nibbles at every bit of her he could reach. His massive hands on her hips pulling her down onto his cock, filling her completely. She was was not going to last long as she rode him, her nails digging deeply into his chest, her head thrown back pressing her breasts into his eager mouth.

At the height of her passion, she slammed her fists into his rock hard chest, the spasms were rocking her as she screamed.

"Voy a venir, Papi! Ay, Papi, ven conmigo, ven conmigo!!"

He could never resist it when she spoke Spanish, he let the waves crash over him and filled her with his cum as his whole body convulsed beneath her. She collapsed on top of him, smothering his face in kisses.

Their demons had been chased away for a few wonderful moments as they held each other in the aftermath of their shared pleasure. Soft kisses followed with gentle toucjes and sweet whispers of love and care. The meds began to take her into a long, and thankfully, dreamless sleep wrapped in the arms of the man she loved.

***

Caroline Rand was now five days past the death of her Master, she was recovering better than expected. The sisters of Saint Quiteria's were housing her during the initial phase of her recovery. They were also ensuring she was busy to keep her mind from dwelling on what she had survived. She was slowly regaining pieces of her humanity and with it, the horror of the last eight years had started to sink in. She went to her therapy sessions regularly and was showing improvement with every day despite a few stumbling blocks. Duncan had spent a great deal of time with Ms. Rand; other than the therapists he had the most experience in dealing with former thralls and was a quiet and compassionate listener. It was thanks to his kindness that had lead to Ms. Rand's complete cooperation with the investigative team. The vast amounts of information she provided and covert surveillance had lead to the discovery of an an enemy stronghold inside the city. A raid was being organised, it would be a big one. He made a note to talk to Ramirez about approaching Ms. Rand for hunter training once she was doing better. He knew a fighter when he met one and she was already starting to show the same deep seated anger that still occasionally flashed within his former pupil.

A week later, the raid on the location the enemy called the Citadel was set. It was unfortunately located too close to an urban population to even consider an air strike. They would not be able to evacuate the area either as this would certainly tip off their target. No, this was going to have to be a tooth and nail fight, a frontal assault on a well armed and entrenched enemy. The strike teams were assembled and briefed. It would be an intricate six prong attack. Johanson and Duncan would co-lead the main assault, Ramirez would be be part of a secondary team encamped at one of the main exits to ensure none managed to escape. This would be her first time as a team leader. Duncan could not help but feel pride in his former student. Two teams equipped with non-lethal ordnance would attempt to subdue as many thralls as possible. The remaining three teams would combine to watch secondary exits and provide back-up to the main assault force. There would also be another command and control group to provide coordination as well as an advanced medical team to provide support for the injured. The final team was the one that always made Duncan a little uncomfortable, referred to informally as "the other C and C": Capture and Containment. This was the vanguard wing of the research and development group, it was how they collected their test subjects. They were equipped with incredibly efficient, non-lethal, vampire-specific ordnance. Theirs was an incredibly dangerous task; of all the hunters, they were the most despised by the enemy a notoriety they wore with pride. The enemy knew that a captured vampire would be reduced to the status of a lab rat, their screams echoing through the halls of R&D for years if not decades. The fruits of these experiments would be the spear point of the assault. Duncan knew there would be one last group, hidden among all the others: his keepers. Those armed with weapons that could stop him, or Johanson for that matter, should their amulets prove incapable of restraining them. Duncan bore these men and women no ill will, they were necessary, he knew that all too well. He took a deep breath, nodded to Johanson, and boarded the armoured transport.

The night was drawing to a close and the dawn was approaching. The redundant oil wells appearing like giant metal beasts, poised to attack, silhouetted against the night sky. She walked quickly up the dirt path to the old and crumbling workshop, taking a look around her at the nearby lights of the rural housing that sprawled across the landscape in the distance.

Since she had been here, she had watched the modern developments gradually encroaching on the area surrounding the Citadel. The industry and housing that sprang up, forming a chokehold on the land that had once been barren as far as the eye could see. She opened the door to the workshop and stepped into the darkness. Rusty benches and broken furniture had been strewn around the place, creating a slalom for her to navigate her way through. Dirt and dead leaves blown in with the wind, carpeted the concrete floor, crunching underfoot as she walked. She reached the back wall, knocking loudly five times on the wooden cladding that covered it. She stepped back slightly. A loud clunk came from behind the wall and it began to slide to the right. She glanced up at the pinhole camera situated in the corner, high and left near the entrance to the sliding door. Raising a hand in greeting to the operator who was always staring back. A stairwell appeared in front of her and she descended slowly, the door sliding shut behind her.

The click of the heels on her knee high leather boots echoed back at her from the carved stone of the tunnel. She made her way carefully down the steps, now worn with age and uneven. Reaching the inner door, she waited. The intercom, housed just to the right of her, crackled and a male voice spoke. "Identify!". "Willow Ferox, Class B" she replied. The door opened inwards and she walked through into the large granite floored entrance. Large marble pillars holding up the vaulted ceiling, casting shadows from the candle sconces adorning the walls. Walking up to the mahogany covered counter, she peered over to see Solomon sat at the monitors, watching the security cameras that covered the outside of the Citadel.

"Hey Solomon! How's it going tonight?" she said seductively, flashing him a smile and winking. He turned from the monitors and got up, walking over to her. "Hi Willow, good hunt?" he asked, running his fingers through his brown wavy shoulder length hair. She placed her forearms on the high counter top, leaning against them and revealing an ample cleavage. She noticed his eyes drop to her breasts and she ensured that he got a good view down her ruffled blouse. He was young looking, around 22 in human years, although he was 84 in Vampire years. His brown eyes being unable to tear themselves away from her large breasts. " I was very hungry tonight Solomon" she said teasingly. "I couldn't seem to get my fill, took a lot to get me satisfied." She winked again, as he looked up into her big brown eyes. She had the most beautiful almond shaped eyes he'd ever seen, high cheek bones and full soft deep red lips. She was a beautiful woman, even if she had been 32 for 257 years. He had always wanted her, always imagined his hands running over her hour glass figure. Her full hips and buttocks, having him mesmerised, every time he had watched her walking away. He always deemed that she was out of his league. He wasn't bad looking and was reasonably trim, but he was a Class C, that alone was a monumental barrier in this place. "Has that ever happened to you Solomon?" she cooed, running her nail down his bicep seductively. "Has what ever happened?" he asked, clearing his throat and feeling the pressing of his cock against his black pants. "Ever take a lot to satisfy you?" she enquired, gazing into his lust filled eyes, while her finger traced along the neck line of his black and red velvet waistcoat. "Well I....erm...not usually" he replied. Shifting his weight on his feet, when he felt his cock surge at her touch. "You working all night Solomon, or do you...get off at anytime?" She twirled her fingers in her hair, black as midnight and full of soft curls, that cascaded down her back. "I am working until 11am, but I'm doing the second half of my shift on the vehicle exit point" he said regrettably. "Oh that's such a shame! I would have loved some company. Guess I'll have to drink on my own then!" she exclaimed, pretending to pout. "Well maybe another time?" he asked eagerly. "I would love that very much Solomon". She smiled at him, turning and walking away towards the lift to go to the 2nd floor, Class B accommodation. Solomon watched her walk away, the sway of her hips hypnotising him like a metronome. The lift doors opened and she stepped inside, turning to face him and blowing him a kiss as the doors closed and the lift descended.

Fabian was checking his watch, when Willow knocked on his room door. "Enter!" he called out. The door opened and Willow stepped into the room. He smiled at her, following her movements towards a large leather chair by the tapestry he had hanging on the wall. She sat, crossing her legs and flicked her hair back. "Well? Is everything ready?" Fabian asked her quietly. "Yes, Solomon will be on the exit in an hour. You'll have to give me sufficient time though, he's a bit on the reserved side. I have put the ground work in place, all I need is a bottle of your champagne" she said, nodding towards the liquor cabinet against the opposite wall. "Sure, take whatever you need" he replied. "Well, let's go see her then" he said, getting up from the sofa and holding out his hand to Willow, pulling her up from the chair, her tight skirt impeding her progress slightly. They left the room, taking the back stairs up to the 1st floor Class C corridor and locating Ayiana's room.

Fabian knocked lightly on the door, before letting himself in. Willow following directly behind him, closed the door as they entered. Ayiana was sitting on the bed, a nervous look playing on her face. Wringing her hands, she glanced up at them. She recognised the female in the room, but wasn't sure of her name. Fabian introduced them both to one another and they nodded in greeting. "We only have a small window of time to get you out of here" he stated urgently. "Willow will distract the exit guard and I will sneak you out to the car pool, where my Thrall will drive you out of the Citadel in the hearse. You will have to stay in a coffin, until he can get you to a safe Satellite Den that I have organised on the other side of town. From there, I'm afraid you are on your own". He scanned her worried face, her eyes full of fear. She nodded furiously. "I understand. Thank you Fabian, thank you so much". The tremor in her voice evident when she spoke. "I'll go and make sure everything is set with my Thrall. I will come back for you shortly". She watched him leave the room, then turned to look at Willow.

"So, looks like you have been a naughty girl!" Willow said playfully, looking around at the drab room, her hands on her hips. "I was stupid and reckless and now I'm putting you both in danger, just for helping me" she replied softly, her eyes welling up with tears. "I really appreciate what you and Fabian are doing to get me out of here. There isn't anyone I trust in here. No one that I could go to for help. Fabian approached me about this, I didn't intend for anyone else to get dragged into it". She gave Willow a concerned look, a tear now falling down her cheek, which she absently wiped away. "Well me and Fabian go way back, we are always there for each other. He's helped me a lot over the centuries and I helped him when his last thrall escaped. Never did find her!" she exclaimed, picking up a perfume bottle and sniffing the contents, placing it back on the dresser. They both glanced towards the door as it opened and Fabian entered the room. "Right, let's run over things one more time, then we need to get going" he said, looking at each of them in turn.

The lift doors opened and she staggered out into the dark wooden panelled corridor, the open champagne bottle swinging around in her right hand. She spied him, his feet up, back to her. The monitor in front of him displaying flicking images of the cameras covering the car pool. He turned around as he heard the footsteps approaching, surprised to see Willow coming towards him. "What are you doing down here?" he asked, a beaming smile lighting up his face. "Well Solomon, I thought you could use some company, I know I do" she smiled seductively back at him, sitting on the edge of the desk in front of him and putting the bottle to her lips and taking a slow drink from it, allowing some champagne to run down her chin and slender neck. He watched in awe, following the path of the champagne rivulets snaking down to her cleavage. She held out the bottle to him, he shook his head. "I'm not allowed to drink on duty" he stated, his eyes connecting with hers. "Do you always do everything you are told Solomon?" Giving him a knowing smile and slipping off the desk, pulling up her tight skirt and revealing her stocking tops and garter belt. She straddled his lap, her breasts directly in line with his eyes, which were fixated on her amble bosom. He glanced up at her face. "N...not always" he stammered, grinning broadly, a flash of passion lighting up his eyes, while the hardness in his pants became almost unbearable. He looked longingly at her, while her fingers began to undo his waistcoat buttons.

She growled like an animal when he threw her forcefully against the metal racking in the storage room, sending vehicle cleaning products clattering to the floor. Their mouths locked hard against one another, his hands running wildly over her body, grabbing her breasts and squeezing hard. Ripping her blouse open, his mouth now seeking out one of her hard nipples and closing around it, sucking and licking wildly; desperate groans escaping him. His other hand pulling and twisting her other nipple, making her cry out in pleasure, his mouth switching back and forth between her large pendulous breasts. She grabbed the centre of his shirt, tearing it open, scattering buttons around the room, hearing them hitting the metal shelving and bouncing on the floor. Pulling his head back up from her breasts and plunging her tongue deep into his mouth, she massaged his tongue firmly with hers, the taste of the champagne still lingering in her mouth. She pushed his shirt off his broad shoulders and he shook it free from his arms, which he then circled around her waist, undoing the fastenings on the waistband of her skirt and forcefully pushing it past her hips. She wiggled free of it and stepping out of it, kicked it across the floor. His hands grabbed her buttocks, digging into her soft flesh. Her nails raking hard down his back, leaving deep bleeding scalpel like wounds, that immediately started to heal. He grunted loudly into her mouth, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back sharply. Kissing and licking her neck, the frenzy of his passion taking hold of him and making him oblivious to the two people sneaking quietly past his desk and into the car pool. She gripped his throat, blood streaming from the punctures that her nails had inflicted and threw him against the far wall. Within a second she was back on him, gripping his hair and forcing him to his knees. His hands tore off her silk panties and he buried his face in her drenched pussy, his tongue lashing furiously at her; flicking over her clit wildly, before he drilled it forcefully inside her. She pulled his face hard into her, her legs parted, head tilted back; while her hips grinded against him. His tongue bringing her to the brink of ecstasy. Her whole body tensed and she cried out, as she squirted into his mouth; her legs trembling, forcing her to reach out and steady herself on the wall. He drank all of her, the musky taste coating his lips and tongue, running down his torso. He grabbed her ankles, his fingers closing around the leather of her boots and tugged hard. She crashed hard onto her back, letting out a loud groan when she hit the tiled floor.

He moved quickly on top of her, kissing and licking her neck and shoulders. She began to giggle, this was fun! He worked at his belt and zipper, getting both undone and pushing them down his muscular legs, kicking off his shoes in the process. She felt his hardness pressing desperately against her thigh, but he didn't want to fuck her just yet. They wrestled on the floor, kissing, licking and scratching. Hands urgently roaming over each other. Their actions akin to wild animals, more so than anything else. They ended up on their side, top to toe, his mouth once again finding her wet cunt and tonguing it feverishly. She grasped his cock hard and greedily fed it into her mouth, deep throating him, causing him to moan loudly into her sex. His size surprised her, the length of him going deep down her gullet. Drawing it out and trailing thick saliva with it, she ran her tongue from his balls all the way up his shaft, before dancing it over his tip. Her hand stroking his cock firmly and fast, as her mouth engulfed him once again. Their groans filling the room, her legs locked around his head. She felt him begin to tense, his thigh muscles clenching and his cock like a steel rod in her mouth. She took it deep down her throat, feeling it jerk wildly as he came hard. His hips thrusting forcefully against her face, while he erupted into her mouth. The hot sticky jets of cum washing over her throat and tongue. He spun around, lifting her by the waist, causing her to arch her hips high into the air; just the tips of her toes touching the tiles. She placed her hands over her shoulders, pushing down on the floor and raising her body up in a crab position. He slammed his cock into her hard, almost pushing her over and began to piston in and out of her soaking wet pussy, watching her breasts jiggle with each trust of his hips. Their cries growing in intensity as he fucked her hard and fast, his nails piercing the small of her back, as he held her aloft. The sudden clench of her cunt around his throbbing cock, sent him into a frenzy and he pummelled her harder. He came a fraction of a second after she did, the convulsing walls of her pussy pushing him over the edge. They collapsed in a heap on the floor, completely spent. A smile playing on her lips, knowing that Fabian had managed to get Ayiana out safely. Half a mile away, the hydraulic floor of an empty hangar lifted up and a black hearse appeared from underneath it, driving out into the sunshine.

It was just getting dark when their individual rooms were visited by the henchmen of the Brethren. Dragging them out and taking them struggling and fighting to the top floor of the Citadel. When they arrived, they looked at each other in fear and confusion. Fabian, Willow and Solomon, all being held firmly next to a large metal door that sported a thick reinforced glass window. The five Class A's stood silently, hands clenched together, surrounded by several Class B's. Gideon nodded to one of them, and he opened the door. They were thrown inside roughly and the door slammed behind them and locked. The room was stark, bare concrete walls and floor, empty, save for themselves. Fabian tried to push the door, banging on it with his fist. "Hey, what's going on? What's this about?!" he shouted angrily. "Oh no!" Willow gasped and he turned to look at her. Following her gaze towards the ceiling, seeing the clear glass roof high above them. Knowing that with the breaking of dawn, the sun would gradually begin to creep into the room, until it was flooded with light. Dread took hold of all of them, as wide eyed, they took in the night sky.

A woman stepped out of the back of an SUV. There was a muffled conversation with the driver about whether she was sure this was where she wanted to be dropped off which ended with a laugh, of course she was. She walked into what appeared to be an abandoned store front and stepped past broken furniture and other detritus tripping a few times in her stiletto heels until she reached the back wall. She was stunning in a simple, skin tight, black cocktail dress that accentuated the modest curves of her well-toned body. Her long, straight, blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail. Her makeup was flawless, perfectly accentuating high cheek bones, full lips, and large, blue eyes. She held a small clutch purse which she opened to produce a small black card which bore an ornate, red, Gothic capital letter C. She waved the card around like a talisman then knocked tentatively at the wall, her eyes darting from side to side conspiratorially.

She giggled, feeling foolish, and almost turned to go, then gasped as the door slid back revealing a stairwell. Hesitantly she descended it, the door sliding closed behind her. The stairs lead to a well-lit and well maintained passage which ended at a door. A male voice crackled over an intercom.

"Identify."

She cleared her throat nervously once again brandishing the card.

"Ummm... I was given this card? I was asked to come here by a guy named Gabriel. He said he would be waiting for me. I know I'm late but my uber had a lot of trouble finding this place."

The door opened. She walked into a large ornate room, a tall, handsome man in what appeared to be a security guard's uniform approached her. She smiled sweetly and shyly as he shamelessly devoured her with his eyes.

"Oh my God! This is the coolest place ever! Are, are you Solomon? He said to tell Solomon that he was expecting me."

The vampire hesitated, his eyes narrowing. The woman's demeanor changed in a flash. The intel had been wrong. Vampires were very fast, he almost got to the alarm before the flash went off. The full spectrum flash grenade would not kill, but it would certainly stun a vampire long enough for her to tag him with a multi stake round. A stake to the heart was the most certain way of killing a vampire. Doing so while the much faster, much stronger target was moving and trying to kill you was no easy task. Multi stake ordnance certainly evened the odds. They were to traditional stakes what a shotgun was to a bow and arrow. They could be fired from a clip fed, gas powered pistol small enough to fit into a clutch bag or belt fed into a suppression fire machine gun and everything in between depending on the occasion. It only took one of the shards to penetrate his heart to drop the security guard. She made a thorough sweep of the area and then called in the all clear. She looked over the security station seeing the rest of her team moving into the building from the monitors. She opened the doors for them. Her team leader approached her as she glowered over the bad intel that could have cost her life and the entire mission.

"Good job improvising, Martel, I hate bad intel too so don't look at me like that. Hold sentry here with Higgins and Winters. I'll call in the strike team."

He tapped his earpiece.

"C&C, this is Bait and Switch, call in Lobo and Papa Bear, the front door is open."

His earpiece crackled in reply.

"Bait and Switch, this is C&C, copy that, Lobo and Papa Bear incoming."

Duncan ran through his pre-hunt checklist ensuring every piece of his equipment was where he wanted it. He had already checked over his team's equipment before they had boarded the armoured transport. Body armour, helmet, communications suite, earpiece, infrared camera with eyepiece, staker rifle with grenade launcher, tranquilizer gun, ammunition for both, flash grenades, shock grenades, pressurized holy water sprayers, zip ties, vampire restraints, med kit, flashlight, and his dagger, everything he would need and more. He had gone through this same ritual while he donning his equipment for the mission. He had done so before and after inspecting his team. He did so again now as they waited for deployment. He was desperately trying to keep his mind off Ayiana by focusing it on every minute aspect of the hunt. He was trying to focus on his equipment, the battle plan, and the radio chatter that was clicking on and off in his earpiece. His heart sank when he heard Capture and Containment check in. What if they got their hands on her? Would that be better or worse than if she was killed in the crossfire before he had a chance to get to her. But what would he do if he did get to her first, what could he do? Various scenarios played out before his mind's eye as he waited for the call. He looked to Johanson who appeared to be asleep in the low light interior of the armoured vehicle. The man was always so calm before a hunt it was almost comical. Duncan could feel the cold metal of the amulet against his chest, there was always a chance it would be needed, the most important piece of equipment he wore. He once again looked at Johanson, remembering their discussion about whose totem was stronger.

Operation Totem had been R&D's most ambitious weapons project ever, and perhaps its greatest failure. It had been an attempt by the now defunct Genetic Research Directive under the leadership of Dr. Marcus Hastings to use genetic manipulation to produce better hunters, specifically, to create a new race of changelings. Eradicated by the hunters over 300 years ago, the changelings had been creatures of a power rivaling the most powerful vampires. However, the hunters were able to exploit their deep-seated tribal rivalries to isolate and eliminate them one after another. The vampires had learned from the fate of the changelings, putting aside internal grievances for the sake of survival, making them a far more cohesive and dangerous enemy. Of the original 25 volunteers that entered the program, only Duncan and Johanson had survived the ordeal. Fourteen had died within the first few days from unforeseen complications with the procedure. The eleven who had survived had varying levels of success in changing form. Two died from the process: their heightened adrenaline levels and the incredible pain of transformation had stopped their hearts. Of those remaining, only Duncan and Johanson were able to change back to their human form after being tranquilized. The others had somehow lost their minds in the process of transformation, becoming mindless beasts even after reverting to human form. The Directive was shuttered for good and Dr. Hastings resigned in disgrace.

The armoured vehicle idled on a deserted street 100 yards from the point of entry two hours before dawn; they would hit them just as they were settling down for their daylight slumber. Duncan was once again going through his internal checklist when they got the call to deploy.

"Lobo, this is C&C, the front door is open, begin operation Fumigate."

He clicked his earpiece as he smacked Johanson awake.

"Copy C&C, Lobo and Papa Bear deploying."

Johanson smiled broadly as he yawned and stretched.

"Okay girls and boys, remember, don't stake everything you see, we want to take as many thralls alive as we can, so I want confirmation from your IR cams before you use lethal rounds, understand? Also remember that if you have the opportunity, and only, and I can NOT stress this enough, ONLY if it is completely safe to do so, try to bag one or two of the blood suckers for R&D. It's the only way we will ever get new toys. Now, enough of this pep talk bullshit, lock and load!"

A chorus of "Aye, Papa Bear!" rang out as the doors of the transport opened. Johanson stopped and turned to Duncan. He laid a finger to the side of his nose and nodded slowly. The 20 person team entered the abandoned store in single file as it passed a dozen members of the infiltration and reserve teams. A few short words were exchanged between the team leaders and then they went down the stairs and past the security station, preceded by drones controlled by Command and Control pilots to give them advance warning of anything ahead of them.

"C&C, this is Lobo, beginning Fumigate, keep chatter to a minimum."

The earpiece crackled its reply.

"Copy that Lobo, good hunting, Capture and Contain will be on your 6 shortly."

At first, Duncan's team only met small pockets of resistance as they moved through the complex as they conducted a slow, methodical sweep of every door, every room, every opening. His team was efficient and thorough, true professional hunters. The great advantage to the multi stake rifles and tranquilizer guns they carried was that they were gas powered, there was almost no noise to alert sentries. Of course, as they reached the more densely populated areas of the dormitories, the screams of alarm eventually meant they were facing stronger and more dedicated defenses and with it, the start of friendly casualties. Even a Class D vampire was a dangerous opponent. Stronger and faster than any human could ever be the hunter's only saving grace was that their prey were not usually trained for combat. Even so, enough well-armed thralls could take out a hunting team despite their training, body armour, and the advance warning the drones provided. Within the first 30 minutes of the operation, two members of his team were down with gunshot wounds. He held his position to ensure they were stable and that medics were en route before moving forward and further down into the Citadel.

Ramirez and her team had met little to no resistance as they pushed into the Citadel. They had pounced as the first of the enemy to flee the strike team conveniently opened the back door for them. The initial attack had been swift and decisive. They had even managed to capture a Class B for the R&D team. Provided they all made it through this attack and no one bagged a Class A her team's drinks would be on R&D's tab. They were now placing sentries as they moved further into the complex. She conducted a textbook door to door search and destroy operation, or so it seemed. She hesitated on every kill, every time taking the extra split second to be sure the vampire at the end of her weapon was not Ayiana. It was now an hour since the start of the operation, her team had already dispatched several vampires and captured twice as many thralls when she found the cells.

Her teammate opened the door and after the drone flew in, she went in herself, dispatching both vampires who turned from a bank of monitors just in time to feel the multi stake rounds slam into their chests. She did a thorough sweep of the room, there were five locked stone doors along a short hallway that off from the main room. She then looked at the monitors, three appeared to be looking into empty cells, the other two were occupied. She was determining what to do about the situation when her stomach lurched as she saw his face flash onto the monitor. It was Fabian. The initial sense of panic and nausea turned to delight as she saw the terror and panic painted on that face too familiar face. Her smile broadened further as she recognized the woman with him, Willow. She looked over the control console and found an intercom. Taking a deep breath she pushed the button.

"I know what you're thinking, how could this possibly get any worse? Guess what, motherfuckers, it just did."

The face on the monitor froze for a moment, then recognition dawned.

"Umbria? Is that you?"

Duncan was continuing to push deeper into the complex, he was fielding complaints from Capture and Contain that he had not gotten a live capture yet when everything went to hell. A large, well-armed group of sentries had opened fire, knocked out their drones, and forced them to fall back into a large ornate ballroom. It was a trap. His team was now pinned down in a crossfire behind the thankfully solid marble bar. The thralls were using assault rifles to keep the hunters suppressed as their vampire masters ran for the exits. Four vampires, clad in black-out suits which protected them from light based attacks, had been directing everything. They hid behind a wall of their thralls who were more than willing to die to protect them. Philips had dropped one of the vampires with a perfect shot but after that, things had only gotten worse. Three more members of his team were wounded, he had called in for reinforcements but knew they might not make it in time. The thralls had erected barricades that would have been useless in the face of lethal ordnance but kept them safe from the tranquilizers and stun grenades. If they could not break through here the rear guard would be overwhelmed by the escaping vampires. He was about to order the use of lethal force on the thralls when he heard Johanson make the call over his headset. He had made the same assessment Duncan had, he knew Ramirez and her team would be in danger and he was going to take things into his own hands. His voice already had a low growl to it.

"C&C, this is Papa Bear, Code Omega Omega."

He smiled at Duncan and winked. The low roar rippled beneath the sound of the automatic weapons fire. He had torn off his tactical webbing and body armour. Think, shaggy, brown hair was already beginning to grow over his body which was itself growing broader and taller.

"Papa Bear, this is C&C, copy that, you have handlers in place and ready. Let it off the chain."

The sounds of the assault rifles stopped as the second roar filled the room, echoing off every wall and running cold fingers of terror into every mind that heard it. It triggered something deep and ancestral: a memory of being small, scurrying in the shadow of roaring giants. The shock of that roar was enough to overwhelm even the strongest glamour. His body was now a boiling mass of fur, rippling muscle, foot long fangs, and claws twice that length. Part bear, part man, all nightmare, Johanson was now in his Totem form, a 16 foot tall one and a half ton beast looming out from behind the bar. Duncan saw that the amulet was fully deployed and let out a sigh of relief. Johanson's calm nature and bear totem meant he had far better control of himself in this form than Duncan could ever dream of.

The amulet's chain appeared as a series of small metal cylinders upon which hung an amulet the size of a man's fist. As his neck expanded through the transformation the true nature of the amulet was made clear. The cylinders were sealed together, but once the seals between the cylinders were broken, an additional length of pure silver chain would wind out to both accommodate the extra girth of his neck but also to leave the skin around it vulnerable to the most important aspect of the device, the needles. Once the amulet's silver chain was fully deployed spring loaded needles that looked like caltrops would ensure at least a few points pierced his skin to inject him with a chemical cocktail of sedatives, dopamine, and oxytocin from a reservoir located in the amulet itself. All of this would allow Johanson to maintain a tenuous control over himself. Without it, his human mind would be taken over by the raging beast within and he would need to be either tranquilized or killed as he would no longer recognize friend from foe. The embedded handlers on their team were equipped with special silver tranquilizer darts loaded with enough sedative to take down a rhino. If that failed, they were equipped with explosive tipped silver rounds. They would take Johanson or Duncan down without hesitation if they needed to, they would have no choice.

The thralls stood in hypnotic terror as the monster cleared the bar in one jump, shaking the floor like an earthquake as it landed, then lumbered towards them. The lull in their resolve allowed Duncan's team to move in and hit them hard with tranquilizers. Even the vampires were caught off guard. His team managed to take two of the remaining three down. As the beast slammed into the first set of barricades, the last vampire seemed to recover enough to scream the ancient name of the creature that bore down on him.

"Gurahl."

Eyes wide in fear, the vampire reached down and produced an RPG. Duncan barely had time to scream a warning to his team before the rocket was sent hurtling towards Johanson.

The ballroom was large, but the concussion of the explosion in such a confined space was incredible. Duncan's ears were ringing. But even over that he could still hear the roar, it was a roar you could feel. Johanson had caught the full fury of the blast on his right arm which now hung at his side in tatters. Luckily, the amulet was still intact. A few thralls had been caught in the blast and laid dead or seriously wounded around him. With one sweep of his claws he smashed the vampire against the far wall of the ballroom. His team was still concussed and Johanson was barreling past the thralls and into the midst of the retreating vampires, leaving a mass of writhing destruction in his wake. Duncan ran from cover, quickly darted the remaining thralls, though they were all still in shock at seeing their master torn to shreds before their eyes. He managed to catch up with his friend who then turned and roared.

"Whoa, big guy! It's me. It's Duncan. It's Liam. You need to calm the fuck down!"

The creatures eyes were wide and wild though he did pause and sniffed at Duncan.

"That's it big guy, you are in control of the beast! The beast does not control you! We still have a lot of work to do"

The beast harumphed loudly and seemed to calm down a little. Duncan noted that his arm was no longer bleeding and would probably be fully healed in about an hour. Duncan had just let his guard down when it happened. He had not noticed that the earpiece had come out of his ear. He heard the panicked voice of a rookie from Ramirez's team.

"C&C, this is Backdoor, we have contact with a class A, La Libertad is down, La Libertad is down, we need a strike team and a medivac now!"

The rookie had panicked and transmitted on all frequencies instead of C&C's. Even as a beast, a part of Johanson's consciousness understood what had been said. The roar nearly bowled Duncan over. The beast writhed and thrashed in front of him claws tearing at the chain around his neck. And then, just like that, he saw the glittering silver chain fall. The beast then turned towards a group of fleeing vampires and ran. Duncan put the earpiece back in place and keyed it.

"C&C, this is Lobo, Papa Bear is Code Black Omega, repeat, Code Black Omega. I am in pursuit."

He ran after his friend, pausing to grab the broken silver chain, he was not going to let this happen. He felt the burning of the silver against is fingers. Johanson had caught up to several vampires who tried desperately to fight off the monster. As Duncan closed, Johanson spun around and swung his massive claws towards him. He knew there was only one thing left to do. The beast was in control of his friend.

"Alright, you asked for this, buddy."

He keyed his earpiece as he stood his ground in the face of nearly two tons of raging monster.

"C&C, this is Lobo, code Omega Omega."

The earpiece was discarded as he heard their reply.

"Lobo, this is C&C, that's a negative, repeat, that's a negative, we do not have handlers in place, do not unchain. God damn it Duncan, the handlers are being ordered to shoot on sight."

He tore off his webbing and armour, everything else he wore was designed to tear away when he transformed though this would only be the second time he did so outside a laboratory setting. He would need to subdue him before any handlers found them. He felt the fear surge within him, the constant fear that he kept at bay, the fear of losing control that haunted every moment of his life, that clung to him since that first time he changed on a hunt. He prayed it would end in the same manner. He took a deep breath and let the fear and shame of that moment wash over him. He felt the rage within him building against that fear. It screamed at his shame just as his conscious mind screamed as the pain hit him. He felt every bone breaking, every muscle and ligament tearing, he tried to scream as the pain racked his body but all that came out was a long, bone chilling howl. The immediate pain in his neck was excruciating, as was the pain in his hand. He could feel his mind slipping away into a hot red void as the beast howled for blood. That howl was answered with a roar that shook the citadel to its deepest crypts. Fully changed, Duncan's wolf form was an impressive monster in his own right at over nine feet tall but was utterly dwarfed by Johanson's bear. However, whatever he lacked in size and strength he more than made up for in speed and agility. Dancing around the big bear's strikes he managed to strike back with his own claws. He avoided bites as the taste of blood could easily drive him over the edge, it was difficult enough to maintain what little control he had with the whole Citadel saturated with the scent of blood and fear. His only strategy was to harass his opponent, enrage him to the point where he would make a mistake. His mind was dull in this form, single minded, he had forgotten the team that had been dispatched to eliminate Johanson, forgotten Ayiana, he was completely focused on the beast in front of him. Then it happened, in its rage and frustration the bear overextended a strike and Duncan pounced. Before the bear could recover, the chain was back around his neck; Duncan was using it in a desperate attempt to choke him down. The massive claws sailed past his head as he pulled with every ounce of strength he had. Even after he was slammed repeatedly into the walls, he never gave up his grip. Even after the claws raked across his head, taking his left ear and most of skin all the way to his snout, even as the silver burned into the flesh of his hand, he continued to pull. He felt the bear weaken. His muscles screamed, the burning pain in his face was excruciating, blood was pouring out of the open wound, blinding his left eye. And then, the beast finally toppled. He did his best to fasten the amulet back in place and then he fell back onto his haunches.

Then something snapped in his mind. A scent burned into his mind above all the others like a single star brightly shining in a void. It was her scent. His dulled mind now had a new single minded task. Follow that scent. His pain forgotten as the blood staunched and the wound began to heal, he barreled off down a hallway in search of his mate. Nothing was able to stand in his way, bullets slammed harmlessly into his flesh; copper jacketed lead was not going to stop a changeling. His howls and nightmarish form froze thralls in their tracks as his claws tore the fleeing vampires to bloody shreds as he barreled down passages following her scent. Then, at the end of a long passage, one vampire stood, unafraid, before him in regal splendour, Vincent, a vampire ancient enough to have fought tooth and nail against changelings before. As he sensed the vampire's power, Duncan howled and charged. Despite the power of his glamour, Vincent was infuriated that his thralls did nothing but cow before the onslaught of the werewolf. The vampire readied himself, his claws and fangs fully extended, the hunter team he had just dispatched in the cells were nothing compared to this beast. He smiled; it had been so long since he last tasted the blood of a changeling. The shock as the two combatants met was terrifying. The battle was fierce and no quarter was given. The vampire's cunning mind was the only thing that kept him in the fight. To Duncan's dulled mind, this creature was standing between him and his mate. The ferocity of his attacks was unbelievable. And yet those attacks lacked finesse and any tactical edge, he also kept refusing to use his teeth. With every new strike the vampire landed the rage within Duncan burned brighter; he was starting to lose what little control he had. He landed a few blows to the vampire himself though he was getting frustrated that his opponent would not die from them as the others had. He saw the strike coming and yet could do nothing to stop it; in his frustration and rage he had over extended. He howled in pain as the vampire's hand slammed into his stomach, cutting deeply into him. At that moment he lost control and brought his teeth down onto the vampire's shoulder. The vampire howled in pain and stumbled backwards as the werewolf tore off his arm. The taste of the creature's foul blood was more than his mind could bear, exactly as it had been the last time. He now wanted nothing more than to tear the vampire apart with his teeth. The pain from his wound was forgotten as he prepared to jump at his throat. But before he could, there was a flash and the vampire started to spasm uncontrollably. The smell of ozone flooded his nose as a second flash went off, and another. The vampire slumped to his knees. He managed to turn his head to see Ramirez's prone form, her rifle upraised, unloading the grenade launcher into him. She was bleeding profusely and in pain, but her defiant smile was undeniable.

"Never leave a job half-finished motherfucker!"

As the sixth stun grenade slammed into his prone body, the vampire collapsed. Duncan howled in rage and frustration. Recognition blurred, there was movement around him, voices shouting, but his mate's scent, the scent and taste of blood filled his world. There were people standing between him and his mate. He would tear them apart. He howled again as he felt a sting in his back. He spun to see enemies, with weapons raised to him. He howled and mindlessly charged at them. He felt more stinging, the stings were now burning. His vision blurred. He felt his body going numb. The rage was fading as he tripped over his feet and collapsed to the floor. He could hear voices before the blackness took him.

"C&C, this is handler team, Lobo and Papa Bear are contained. Returning to clean up operations. Contact Capture and Containment, we've got a Class A for them."

He was holding her hand gently in his as he sat next to her bed. Her heart rate monitor's beep filled the quiet hospital room she lay in. She looked like she had been put through a meat grinder. He had been by her side for almost 36 hours, refusing medical treatment and orders to leave as he watched over her. Her face was badly bruised, she had four gunshot wounds, and several deep lacerations. It had taken surgeons 14 hours to put her back together.

"How are you two doing?"

Johanson looked up at Duncan's face, a mask of grave concern and partially healed scars, his ear had almost completely regrown.

"We're both going to live, thanks in no small part to you! Did you find her?"

Duncan's face fell. He shivered at the memory of the transformation, the loss of control.

"I remember picking up her sent, it was pretty faint though. Considering they found me near the exit I figure she had been gone a while before we ever got there, but I have no idea where she could be now. I'm just glad she wasn't there when we attacked."

Ramirez stirred and opened her eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I do."

Johanson was overjoyed to see her eyes open, fat tears started to fill his eyes as he brought her hand to his cheek.

"You do what, baby?"

She blinked and winced as she tried to sit up.

"I know where she is."

Darkness, enveloped her like a lover's arms, while she lay there still on her back. A double knock on the lid of the coffin, signalling that it was safe for her to emerge. She pushed the lid up slowly, hearing quickening footsteps getting fainter and disappearing. The unmistakable sound of a door slamming, as damp and musty scents invaded her nostrils. She sat up, disoriented and looked about her. A large square brick room greeted her, empty save for a few tattered and water logged cardboard boxes in one corner. A doorway just to the right of them, paint peeling from it's surface, revealing dull greying wood underneath. She looked behind her, spying the wooden stairs leading up. She pulled herself up to her feet, stepping out of the cushioned carriage she had arrived in. She had no idea where she was, what time it was, or even if she was alone. She approached the tattered door and turned the handle, pushing it open. A long brick tunnel sprawled out in front of her and meandered into the distance. She inhaled, smelling the fresh breeze that rushed through the tunnel, an escape exit no doubt. She closed the door and turned away from it. She ascended the stairs cautiously. Turning the handle on the door at the top of them, she pushed it open gingerly, unsure if it was night or day. She was greeted with darkness. She stepped into the hallway, looking both ways. She noted a kitchen to the right, not very modern, but adequate, she surmised. She walked around the property, confirming she was alone. A small house, two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs and a small but functional living area. She approached the window, looking out, not recognising her surroundings. Trees, lots of trees and distant lights that she deduced to be from the city.

She walked to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and seeing two blood packs lying on the top shelf. She picked one up, checked it over and seeing the Citadel stamp, opened the spout and drank deeply. As her eyes looked back inside the fridge, she spied an envelope, the outside simply sporting the letter 'A'. She took it and opened it. It was a note from Fabian, telling her that more supplies would be delivered in the next few days and to hang tight until then and not to leave the house, unless she had to of course. She couldn't help but be fearful, she knew they would track her as easily as a bear in the snow. Her desire to flee was strong, but she didn't have anywhere else she could go at present. Couldn't trust anyone, even Fabian's thrall, Marcus, made her nervous. If they knew he had transported her out of there, it wouldn't take much for them to get him to talk.

She would need to come up with a plan. She concluded, that for tonight at least, she should be safe. She walked slowly up to the second floor and entered the bathroom. A claw foot roll top bath stood against one wall, the sink and toilet against the far side of the room. She spied a candle in a jar on the window sill, next to it a disposable lighter. She pulled the shades on the window and lit the candle. She didn't want to risk putting on the lights. She placed the candle on a stool next to the bath, put the plug in and turned on the taps. Testing the temperature, she undressed and stepped into the warm water. Lying back, she waited until the level covered her pale body, before turning the taps off and slumping back down. The water lapping at her chin as she stared at the flickering flame of the candle. Her mind starting to drift, memories invading her thoughts.

Making her way through the throngs of traders on the damp London streets, she struggled to carry the heavy basket of groceries. Her back aching, her full skirts trailing in the mud and horse manure that carpeted the streets. One more errand to go, one more chance to speak to him. Big Ben chimed in the background, letting her know that it was already 8am, she was running a bit late, it meant slightly less time with him than she would have liked. She walked quicker, eager to get there. Her heart leapt at the thought of him, the butcher's boy. It had been nearly a week since she had seen him last. Not since her half day off, when they had gone strolling in the park arm in arm. She had been in Service for years now, since she was 9 years old. It was a hard life, she had started as a maid of all works, doing all the jobs no one else wanted and they were usually the most undesirable ones at that. It was no picnic being on the bottom rung of the Service ladder, mistreated by everyone, crying herself to sleep night after night, through sheer exhaustion. She had worked hard, slowly climbing the ladder to where she was now, a kitchen maid for a well to do family in Battersea.

She reached the door of the butchers, a small queue waiting in the shop. She looked for Arthur, seeing him emerge from the back room. He spied her, a huge smile appearing on his handsome face. She smiled broadly back at him, feeling her cheeks flush. The butcher interrupting her and drawing her gaze away from him. "What'll it be missy?" he barked at her. She handed him the list and he scanned it, walking away to gather the items for her. She looked back at Arthur as he cut into a side of beef, glancing up at her every chance he could and flashing her a smile. His dark hair mopping up the sweat collecting on his forehead, giving him an unkempt and bedraggled look. His beautiful blue eyes, framed with dark lashes, catching her gaze. She would see him tomorrow, she couldn't wait. A whole day off with him! She sighed deeply, wishing the day away and wanting it to make room for the dawn. The butcher returned, carrying small packages wrapped in wax paper and tied with string. He rechecked the order, touching each package in turn as he mentally ticked it off the list. "Right well that comes to two shillings and sixpence missy" he said to her, holding out his podgy blood stained hand. Placing her basket on the floor, she pulled out a small leather pouch from her pocket and counted out the money, handing it to him and glancing back at Arthur, who threw her a wink. She beamed, placing the goods in her basket, picking it up and headed back to the house in Hope Street, Battersea.

She woke the next morning full of excitement, washing and changing quickly into her 'going out clothes'. Placing her worn bonnet on her head and tying the frayed ribbons under her chin. She looked in the mirror, pinching her cheeks to make them rosy and hurried down the back stairs of the three storey Victorian Town House. Walking up the concrete steps and holding onto the black wrought iron railings that led from the kitchen, she smiled happily. The sun was shining and turning to walk down the street, she saw him there, his smile greeting her as she approached, he doffed his cap to her and offered her his arm, which she took with delight, her other hand holding her woollen shawl around her shoulders. They walked for most of the morning, stealing kisses when no one else could see. She had never been happier, she was in love and walking with the man she knew she would marry one day. It was only six months away from her 21st birthday, six months of happiness to follow, before her life would be torn apart.

Arthur looked at her lovingly, taking her in his arms and holding her close. She gazed up at him, her heart beating so fast. "I've found somewhere we can be alone, if you want that?" he stated, his eyes looking deep into hers. She smiled and nodded, excitement welling up inside her. "Are you sure?" he asked softly. "Yes, I am entirely sure Arthur. I love you" she replied, stroking his cheek lightly. "And I love you Ayiana, more than anything in this world!" he exclaimed, kissing her softly on the lips. He picked her up, swinging her around, as she laughed, throwing her hands around his neck. He led her out of the park and through the back streets to a run down slum house in the poorer part of town. Opening the door, he motioned for her to enter and she walked inside the dimly lit room. The only furnishings, a bed, small table and a chair. He approached the fireplace, which was still glowing slightly from the embers of the night before. Placing a couple of pieces of coal on the fire, he stoked it with the iron poker and it flickered into life, small flames dancing, casting a subtle glow around the room.

He walked over to her, gently undoing the bow on her bonnet and slipping it off her. She stood nervously; he took her hands and pulled her to him, kissing her lips softly, feeling her tremble as she returned his kisses. "We don't have to Ayiana. I can wait" he said softly. "No, I want to, I really do!" she replied, smiling at him. He looked deep into her eyes, holding her chin and lifting her face to his, he kissed her again, his tongue slipping between her moist lips and sliding over her tongue. Pulling her close with his other hand, feeling her melt into the kiss, a small groan escaping her. He slipped off her shawl and threw it onto the chair back, softly kissing down her neck. Her trembling fingers, undoing his rough woven waistcoat, while his hands found the back laces on her dress and tugged on them lightly. He took his jacket and waistcoat off, discarding them to the side and pulling his shirt over his head. His lean frame silhouetted by the firelight. His belt nothing but a length of rope, tied round his middle, which he undid, causing his trousers to slide down slightly, stopping on his hips. She turned away from him, so he could undo her laces on her dress, kissing her neck and shoulders as he did so. She sighed deeply, she had yearned for this, his touch on her naked skin, his hands caressing her. He released the bodice and untied the laces that held her full skirts around her waist. Pushing her skirts down, revealing the knee length cotton bloomers underneath and the cream lightly knitted stockings tied with small ribbons. She pulled her bodice from her, stood now only in her under blouse, corset and bloomers. He undid the laces on her corset and slipped it from her, turning her to face him. He kissed her again, pressed in against her body. For the first time she felt his hardness, pressing urgently against her stomach. She hadn't expected that, she was untouched and had never even seen a man naked. She lost herself in his kiss, while he slowly removed the rest of her clothing. Holding her at arms length, he took in her form. His eyes drinking in every part of her. Her firm breasts, rose pink nipples, erect and delicate. Her slender waist, the curve of her hips and the triangle of hair that guarded her treasure. Her breathing was rapid, her chest rising and falling quickly, her excitement growing. "Oh Ayiana, you are so beautiful!" he whispered, moving close to her and running his hands gently over her back and down over her buttocks. She shuddered as his fingers caressed her, her nipples tingling at his every touch. She put her arms around him, feeling his toned frame, his lean muscles and the hair on his chest that brushed against her breasts. He undressed, both of them now completely naked. He guided her to the bed, laying her down on the rough blanket on top of it. It itched her, but she didn't care. She looked down his body, seeing his cock hard and wanting. She grew more nervous, not knowing what it would feel like, would it hurt?

He kissed her tenderly, their lips meshing together, tongues seeking each others hot mouths. His kisses became more urgent, deeper, his ragged breathing revealing his longing for her. His mouth softly kissing down her neck, across her shoulders, while her hands lightly ran through his hair. He moved down her body, gently running his fingers over her breasts. She gasped, the pleasure travelling through her, moistening her pussy and causing her to moan. His tongue tracing down to her breast, finding her nipple and closing his lips around it gently, flicking and sucking it, teasing it with his teeth. She groaned loudly, her body beginning to move in rhythm against his. His thumb and forefinger rolling her other nipple lightly between them. He switched, taking her other nipple in his mouth and repeating the process, glancing up into her eyes, while she watched him longingly. His tongue beginning a slow decent down her abdomen, circling her navel, feeling her body trembling. Soft kisses being planted all around her stomach and waist, sending shivers through her and a longing she had never felt before. Oh how she wanted him, how she loved him. She felt his tongue on her thigh, the sudden surges of pleasure growing as his tongue moved higher. He parted her legs, gazing at the glistening feast that awaited him, he needed to sate his hunger for her, his tongue reaching out to taste her.

Her hips raised from the bed and she let out a gasp when his tongue began tracing up and down the soft tender lips of her sex. She reached down, grabbing his head and gently holding it, while he licked her slowly and deliberately. Applying more and more pressure, his tongue parting her lips and delving into the hotness that awaited him. She cried out with pleasure, calling his name over and over as he devoured her. His eyes looking at her soft face, her eyes closed, head moving from left to right. He reached a hand up and grabbed one of her breasts, massaging it with his hand, while his mouth consumed her wetness. He slid one finger gently inside her, her loud gasp and groaning lending him encouragement. He gently fingered her, while his tongue continued to dance over her sex, flicking at her clit firmly. Her hips bucking upwards towards his face. Curling his finger inside her, he rubbed against her nerve endings, she cried out, moaning louder and louder and bucking harder. Her face contorted as she was swept away on the wave of an orgasm that undulated through her body. He lapped at her, catching every drop of the cum that flooded her. His finger being clamped by the tight walls of her delicious pussy. He moved back up her body, kissing and licking his way to her soft mouth. Finding her willing lips, he kissed her passionately. She tasted herself on him, the earthy sweetness of her own body. He lay between her legs, pushing them further apart with his knees, reaching down and grabbing his turgid cock in his hand and guiding it to her soft sheath. The heat of her like a beacon to him, making the search for her entrance all the easier. He kissed her neck, running his tongue up her soft flesh and taking her earlobe into his mouth, he bit down on it, simultaneously pushing his cock inside of her gently. She whimpered loudly, holding him tightly to her, feeling the pain and the give inside her, gasping loudly as her hymen broke. Gently he began to thrust his hips, asking her frequently if she was okay. She nodded and kissed him, groaning into his mouth as he gently slid in and out of her wetness. His excitement growing, but being mindful that this was her first time, he had to kerb the need to hammer hard into her. Her tightness gripped him so hard, he began to groan in her ear, kissing her neck and her mouth, feeling his cock grow rigid, his balls tighten. He couldn't hold out any longer, despite his efforts. He held her tightly, spasms rocking him as he came deep within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling him twitching within her and the warm wetness of his cum coating her soft walls. He collapsed on top of her, kissing her feverishly, muttering over and over "I love you, I love you!". While his body pressed hard against hers. "I love you too Arthur" she replied, holding him in her arms "Forever!".

A tear burned on her cheek as she remembered the last time she saw Arthur. Walking at night through the wet and dirty London streets, unaware they were being followed. Unaware that someone had been watching her, waiting for an opportunity. She had screamed in horror as Arthur's throat was torn open before her eyes. He had tried to protect her, sacrificing himself to save her life. Her screams at seeing him fall, being silenced by the glare of a Vampire, her soon to be Sire Demetrius. She was turned that night and her life would never be the same. After gaining his trust and being allowed out on her own at night, she had taken the opportunity and fled on a ship to America. Hiding out in the cargo hold, safe from the sunlight. Landing a couple of weeks later and moving from place to place, finally discovering the Citadel in Chicago.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, still feeling the utter heartbreak and her total contempt for Demetrius for taking Arthur from her. She hoped that someone had staked him by now, that he would be condemned to hell for the evil things he did, he was a monster! She stepped out of the bath, the water now cold. She drained the tub, drying herself and finding some old clothes in a wardrobe in the bedroom. She put on a long tee shirt and a pair of leggings and sat looking out of the window, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

*****

"I know what you're thinking, how could this possibly get any worse? Guess what, motherfuckers, it just did."

The face on the monitor froze for a moment, then recognition dawned.

"Umbria? Is that you?"

She laughed, she was positively giddy. She always knew she would one day have to face Fabian again. She had spent many of her darkest hours wondering how it would play out. She could not have dreamed of a more perfect way if she had tried. There was actual hope on his face. He was actually thinking maybe she had come back to save him. That was so precious.

"Oh, I'm sorry, no, that small, emotionally damaged punching bag of yours isn't around anymore. What we do have, however, is a strong, confident Latina that goes by her given name: Maria Sofia Arias Ramirez. Oh, I'm not alone either, there are about two hundred of us hunters currently kicking thirty one flavours of shit out of your little Citadel."

She saw his hope turn to humiliated, impotent rage. She savoured every moment of seeing him like this.

"You're a hunter now? I see you have reached whole new levels of ingratitude since leaving my service."

She watched Willow's face fall and the third vampire look incredulously from one to the other. She really was enjoying this far too much.

"Puta, you have no idea! Ever wonder why hunters have been getting better at resisting glamour? You have only yourself to blame for that. I've been training them. In a way, your failure to keep me an obedient thrall will probably spell the end for your whole fucking species."

She watched as Willow exploded on Fabian. Lashing out at him both physically and verbally. She let that continue for a few moments before throwing gasoline on the fire.

"So, the question remains, do I leave you to your deserved fate, or do I go in there and take immense pleasure staking you myself? Of course I could always just call in Capture and Contain so I can spend the rest of my life falling asleep to the sounds of your tortured screams. And trust me, I interned at R&D for a year, it is not pretty."

At the mention of the dreaded Capture and Contain team the panic on all three vampire's faces grew to a fevered pitch. She was certain Willow and Fabian would come to more serious blows shortly and part of her really wanted to see that fight. But another part of her wanted them not just to die, but to suffer, she called it in, leaving the intercom open so the vampires could hear it too.

"C&C, this is La Libertad, send Capture and Contain to the back door, I've got three code Thetas, at least two are class B."

She then released the intercom switch. She would let them stew on that. Her ear piece crackled back the reply.

"Copy that, La Libertad, Capture and Contain are inbound. You trying to set a record?"

She noticed that Willow was waving at the camera frantically while Fabian kept trying to stop her. She was enjoying the sight of the two turning on each other like hungry dogs. The third vampire was now sitting in the corner hugging his knees. She flipped the intercom back on.

"What do you want, bitch? Want to beg for your life? I'm all ears. It'll kill time while we wait for C&C to get here."

Willow was shouting over Fabian's protests until she finally threw him across the small cell, slamming him against the stone wall until he stopped moving.

"We know about your friend's tryst with that redhead, Ayiana. I know where she is. And if you don't let me go, she's as good as dead. And what do you think they'll do to that hunter once they find out about what we know?"

Ramirez paused, thinking. She was about to do something she knew she would regret when an explosion of small arms fire erupted behind her and everything went to hell.

*****

"And that's when the big Class A motherfucker showed up with two dozen heavily armed thralls. We gave them everything we had but they cut us to pieces. The rest is a little blurry."

Duncan and Johanson took it in turn to bring Ramirez up to date on the events of the raid. Most of which they had gotten second hand from their team members after they regained consciousness. She squeezed Johanson's hand tightly when she heard about him losing his mind at hearing of her going down. She knew he preferred not to change if it could be avoided, the fear of losing control was always at the back of his mind. She was shocked at hearing that Duncan had changed. And reached out to hold his hand as they recounted how he too had lost control and needed to be tranquilized by the Omega Black team. The rest of the raid after that had gone as planned. It had turned out to be the most successful hunt their unit had ever undertaken. They had killed at least eighty vampires in total of varying class. The clean-up teams were still finding bodies as they probed the deepest recesses of the Citadel. They had also managed to tranquilize at least fifty thralls. They would be hard pressed to find them placements in their splinter organizations but it would be done. They were certain at least one Class A got past the initial sweeps of the lowest levels. A few dozen thralls were killed, most by Johanson and Duncan when they had lost control, others after lethal ordnance had been ordered for some of the more entrenched areas of the Citadel. Records, both paper and computer were captured as well which would keep the Intelligence Directorate busy for months. Of course, there were casualties on the hunters' side as well, seventeen dead and at least twice that many wounded. The third generation body armour and quick response of the medical teams had ensured those injuries were not fatal. Fortunately, there were no missing hunters. The fate of a captured hunter was best not thought on but the reality was a long, torturous death if they were lucky.

"How many did I lose?"

Johanson took a deep sigh.

"Three: Miller, Saunders, and Taylor."

Ramirez let the reality of the losses wash over her. She let the images of their faces play in front of her mind. Casualties were part of their calling. She had lost fellow hunters before, but these would be the first under her own command. She would be expected to say something at their funerals, she made a mental note to start on that as soon as possible. Johanson continued.

"If Liam hadn't gotten there when he did, if you hadn't dropped that Class A, it would have been a lot worse. Hell, if Liam hadn't stopped me..."

He trailed off his hand moving instinctively to his new amulet. Duncan sighed deeply. He was still shaken from the transformation. Not as badly as the first time, at least this time he had not managed to kill any of his own team. The memories were running through his mind now, tormenting him. He felt the huge hand of his friend rest on his shoulder, causing him to look over at him.

"I owe you, again. Every single person in that raid owes you."

Duncan smiled wanly.

"Maybe, but as soon as Willow and Fabian are interrogated, I'm fucked, no matter how much people think they owe me."

Ramirez shook her head.

"Not entirely. We still have a few days before those two are interrogated, they'll be kept sedated until they finish breaking the Class A, that will take all their resources for at least a week. And since I won't be on active duty for a while, we have some room to maneuver."

Johanson squeezed her hand and kissed it.

"We're all off active duty, Liam and I both went off the leash, we are going to have to go through the usual follow ups and psych evaluations before they consider whether to let us back in the field again. Looks like all three of us will have a lot of free time. So, what's the plan?"

*****

He awoke and knew instinctively it was day. Memories started flooding back to him. He felt numb and assumed he had been drugged. He could not see and he could not move, his mouth was gagged. He could hear the beeping of medical devices and he could smell the humans in the room with him. There were three, two males in their prime and an older female. He could hear and smell the blood coursing through their veins. He could almost taste it. How long had it been since he last fed? The female spoke out.

"Good morning Vincent, I can call you Vincent, right? How about Vinny? Of course I can, I could call you a cocksucking piece of shit if I wanted, really, it's not like you're in any position to stop me."

Vincent returned the insult with an expression of purest contempt; replying to this kind of treatment from mere humans was beneath him. He would simply bide his time until one of these hunters fell under his glamour and then he would be freed. He was already planning how slowly and exquisitely he would kill this peasant bitch. Even bound, gagged, and blindfolded it was not outside his power to turn a human to a mindless thrall. If he were able to see his interlocutor she would certainly be under his power in a matter seconds. Even deprived of his sight, he should be able to get a better read of these people they were obviously very well trained. He was almost impressed, however, he knew they could not keep it up forever, and he was in no rush, a perspective forged over centuries had left him with limitless patience. She spoke again.

"If you're thinking about using your glamour to get yourself out of this one you might want to think again."

The blindfold was removed suddenly; Vincent was now able to take in his surroundings. He was stripped, lying on some sort of hospital bed, but most importantly he was unbound. He suppressed the desire to chuckle, did they really think drugs would keep him immobile for long? There were several monitors and medical devices around him. Tubes and wires were attached to various places on his body. The sight of his missing arm brought back a flood of memories. He then casually turned his eyes to that peasant bitch. He stared directly into her eyes. She returned his penetrating gaze for a moment then crossed her eyes while laughing at him. He had felt nothing. He tried in vain to hide his panic.

"Like I said, your glamour won't work with that running through your blood."

Vincent's eyes followed the woman's pointing finger to a series of tubes stuck into his left forearm. He instinctively tried to twist his arm away but found he could not move.

"Yeah, you won't be moving much anymore, we permanently severed your spinal cord at the C4 cervical vertebra. Normally you would be able to heal a wound like that but we left a metal plate in there to keep that from happening. We might take it out if we need you mobile but it's going to stay put for now. And those chemicals pouring through your veins are targeting a specific series of neurotransmitters in your frontal lobe, stunting your glamour. It has several rather unfortunate side effects, all of which you will become intimately familiar with in the next few weeks. We're still trying to weaponize it, of course, just working out the bugs. You can see how effective it is, can't you. Of course once we no longer need to test and analyse your glamour we will permanently remove the section of your brain that controls it. A simple procedure that you will survive though it will be the equivalent of a frontal lobotomy. But I do get ahead of myself in my excitement."

The hunter's smile was cruel as it crossed her thin lips. She was short, dressed in a lab coat over an athletic, runner's body, her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun. She wore small round glasses in front of deep brown eyes.

"My name is Doctor Alexandra McTavish I am the head of the Research and Development Directorate. You can call me Alexandra, after all we will be working very closely together over the next few months. Just like all the other specimens in this facility. You are only the third Class A vampire we've been able to capture alive, so I guess congratulations or commiserations are in order depending on your perspective. Once you have fully healed from the wounds that were inflicted on you, you will be interrogated by these two gentlemen behind me from the Intelligence Directorate."

The two men in cheap suits merely nodded, their faces showing no emotion whatsoever. Vincent was beginning to feel the discomfort of real fear, something he had not felt in centuries. The woman spoke up again.

"I would suggest complying with their requests for information. You might think that at your age and power you are beyond the interrogation methods we might use. However, you must understand that we broke both previous Class A vampires. We will break you as well, it's only a matter of time. But, for now, just relax, heal up, and start getting used to your new life. Let's hope it is a long and productive one."

She looked at a few of the monitors and checked over the tubes leading to and from the vampire, made a few notes in a book, then turned on her heel and left the room. The two men followed, leaving Vincent to contemplate his fate in solitude.

*****

"I know where they are being kept. I have the means to get to them. And we certainly have enough leverage to get them to tell us where they're keeping Ayiana."

Duncan was incredulous.

"You can't seriously be contemplating letting them go."

Ramirez smiled.

"You leave that to me, I still have a few friends in R&D and a few favours to call in."

It had been two days since she had arrived in the Safe Den. Fabian had promised that more supplies would be delivered, but none had materialised as yet. She hoped that he would keep his promise, she trusted him, having no choice but to do so. She just prayed that he hadn't forsaken her. He did say she was on her own once she left the Citadel, but his note had suggested otherwise. It revealed that he was at least willing to help her a little, which she appreciated greatly. This evening had been a source of confusion to her though; ordinarily two blood packs would last her for a month, yet she had consumed them both in the first night and now found herself with a craving she was struggling to control. She had been told that Vampires often turned feral once on their own. Perhaps it was a survival instinct, or the absence of another vampire to enforce any discipline or temper their behaviour, she wasn't entirely sure. Fabian had warned her to stay in the Den for a few days and not to venture out and maybe that was why, but her hunger was growing with an intensity that surprised her. She had fought the craving since she had awoken, just as the sun was setting and now it burned inside her with a fury she had never known before.

She entered the bedroom, browsing through the wardrobe for something suitable to wear for hunting. She hadn't packed much when she left the Citadel, just enough to get by with, so her options were limited. She selected a pair of jeans, a white blouse and donned her knee high black boots. She hadn't intended on being here for long and had enough cash to replace her clothing, once the opportunity presented itself. Once ready, she tentatively opened the front door, peering out into the darkness. Her Vampire sight able to pierce the blackness and turn the whole night into hues of grey. She stepped out, walking down the dirt road towards bright lights that burned in the opposite direction of the City. She couldn't risk going to her old haunts, they would surely be searching for her there.

As she walked in the crisp evening air, her sensitive hearing picked up the unmistakeable beat of music. She followed the sound into the forest, voices and raucous laughter now mingled with the upbeat rhythm and something else; the anguished cry of a woman! She hurried silently towards the sound, seeing the flames from the camp fire before anything else. A total of 4 tents had been erected to the left of the fire that burned in the centre of the clearing. Her eyes stopped on three male figures beyond the flames, huddled around something on the ground. Looking in the spaces between them, she saw the girl, bound and gagged on the floor, another male cutting her clothing from her. She looked at the forest floor and spotted a small dried branch. She picked it up, snapping it loudly with her hands. Four sets of eyes turned in her direction, unable to see her past the firelight. They all froze, scanning the darkness, the fear of discovery ever present. The radio was switched off and an eerie silence fell over the scene.

The girl began a muffled scream for help and was promptly struck hard across the face by the male kneeling over her. He held the knife to her throat, his index finger raised up to his lips, to indicate that she wasn't to make another sound. Wide eyed, with tears streaming down her dirty cheeks, she complied, afraid of the knife pressing against her skin. Ayiana waited, seeing what their next move would be. "Probably just an animal!" one of the males stated, turning his gaze back to the girl. "Guess again!" Ayiana shouted from the treeline. She almost laughed at the panic on their faces, her eyes narrowing sadistically as she watched them all draw knives from their belts, holding them at arms length in the direction of her voice. "Who's there?" the taller of the males called out. "Oh, no one special, just your worst nightmare!" Ayiana replied. She broke cover, she was incredibly fast and with one swift movement, she grabbed the male on the left and took him into the darkness of the trees that surrounded the camp. Frightened cries erupted from the remaining males, panic stricken and shocked, they began shouting wildly for their friend; not knowing what had happened, what to do and in utter disarray.

Her captive stabbed at her wildly, causing several deep wounds in her left flank, before his screams echoed round the forest. She held him fast, pushing him to the floor and pinning his arms with her knees. He thrashed and struggled, screaming and pleading with her, causing new sensations to well up inside her: excitement, elation, power, rage. She grabbed his scruffy shoulder length hair and yanked his head roughly to one side, biting into his neck with ferocity. Blood arced from the wound she had inflicted, covering her face and painting the forest floor with it's crimson hue. Her excitement mounting, bloodlust and an animal instinct taking hold of her and fuelling her attack. She bit down hard, clenching her teeth together and ripping his throat open, silencing his screams. The stretched ligaments and arteries that were severed by her fangs, snapping back into the wound as she pulled her head away sharply, her mouth taking a large chunk of his flesh with it. His heart pumping the life from him rapidly, struggled to continue it's beat. The only sound, the gurgling from his throat as it filled with his own blood. Gorging herself on the warm flow of plasma, a feeling of elation washed over her. She couldn't remember feeling like this before, she was euphoric, giddy with bloodlust, an almost manic surge of power pulsing through her body. Seeing his lifeless form lying below her, she stood up and returned to the camp for the next in line. In less than a score of heartbeats, the males all lay dead among the trees. Their broken, torn and bloodied bodies a welcome feast for the carnivorous wildlife.

Drenched in crimson, she approached the girl, her whimpering and the crackling fire the only sound now. Ayiana lifted the girl's wrists and snapped the bindings, looking at her swollen face, covered in dirt and streaked with the tracks of her tears, her eyes big, wild with fright. She stared at Ayiana, seeing the blood matted hair that stuck to her face, only the whites of her eyes visible beneath the mask of blood she wore. "You're safe now" Ayiana whispered softly "Go home!". She stepped away from the girl and allowed her to untie her own ankles and remove the gag tied around her mouth. Turning her back on the weeping female, she sat on the log and stared into the fire, Ayiana listened as the girl's footsteps rushed through the forest, accompanied by whimpers and sobs. She listened until the sound disappeared into the distance, her eyes fixed on the flickering embers of the fire as her mind recalled the memories she had tried so hard to bury.

*****

She sat upright opposite Demetrius, his eyes locked onto her face. His long hair draped around his shoulders, fingers knitted together across his blue velvet waistcoat, the colour only broken by the presence of the golden chain from his pocket watch. She eyed the white silk cravat around his neck and envisioned it dyed red with his own blood, imagining slitting his throat and watching him bleed out. Imagining holding his head back to prevent the wound from healing, while his essence escaped in torrents of vermilion. She thought about his demise often, the different ways she could end him, given the chance. She hated him, at least the part of her that held her humanity did. The Vampire side of her was bonded to him, he was her Sire, her master, her everything. A cruel side effect of the Vampire condition, unfettered loyalty to someone who she knew deserved nothing but a painful end to his existence. And yet her emotions remained in constant conflict, between the indoctrinated love for her Sire and the hate for the creature that took the life of the man she now mourned for, a wicked juxtaposition. She would do whatever Demetrius asked of her, she couldn't help it, her whole being tried to fight it, but it was futile. She was an automaton, acting without will, simply following orders; her only aim to please him and she loathed him for it. Demetrius stood and walked slowly to her, holding out his hand. She took it reluctantly, dread knotting her insides, knowing what was about to follow, but blindly accepting of it.

He led her from the parlour and in through the large double doors that led to the basement. They entered the room, the cool damp air greeting them and each footstep echoing around the red Victorian brick walls. In the centre of the room was a large red carpet, on which stood a 'Y' shaped wooden restraining post. The only other furniture, a table set against the side wall, displaying an array of whips and other devices he liked to use. The whole thing illuminated by the wall mounted sconces, covered in dripping wax from the white candles, whose flames flickered and danced in the air current. He led her to the post without speaking, pushing her back against the central stanchion and securing each wrist with iron shackles that were attached to each of the branches. They bit wickedly into her flesh, the lesser of the ordeals she had endured with him and one she now accepted without complaint. She was all too familiar with this scenario, but she still felt nausea building inside her and tried to stem the revulsion she felt towards him; it wasn't difficult, as her need to do his bidding overwhelmed her. He stepped back, looking at her, admiring what he considered as his own. The bustle on her long skirt thrusting her hips forward and arching her back uncomfortably. He had wanted her for so long, had spent many nights staring into the kitchen window of the house she had served. Watching her being a slave to others until the small hours of the morning. Watching and waiting for the opportunity. Now she was his alone and he relished that fact; his forever. He had endured being a spectator to her lovemaking with the human male she had been involved with. Had observed him penetrating her and yearning to be in his place, now he was. It had been a handful of weeks since he turned her and he had been able to enjoy her at his whim, a thing he took full advantage of.

He walked towards her, her chest heaving, stretching the blouse that she wore and causing her breasts to protrude through the thin fabric. He tore it from her, making her whimper and flinch at his sudden movement. Her breasts exposed to his gaze, he relished the sight of them, her nipples hardening despite herself, causing a smile to cross his cruel thin lips. He discarded the blouse, throwing it behind him and walking to the table, where he picked up an embellished dagger. Gold inlay decorated the leather bound hilt and a large ruby adorned the steel pommel. He knelt at her feet, taking the hem of her long skirt and underskirts in one hand, running the blade of the dagger all the way up to the waistband, slicing the layers of fabric wide open. The blade catching on her skin and cutting the soft flesh of her thigh, she winced and sucked air in over her teeth in pain. The wound began to bleed, staunched when the broken skin began to knit back together. He cut the waistband on her skirts, dropping them to the floor beside her, while his tongue ran up her thigh, tasting her blood as it snaked down her leg. He was glad to see that she had followed his directions of not wearing undergarments, he would hate to have to beat her again.

His face now level with her sex, he grabbed her ankles above her lace up boots and forced them apart roughly. The movement making her lose her foothold momentarily and causing her body to slump down the post, sending a sharp wave of pain through her restrained wrists and across her shoulders. She let out an involuntary cry, which made him smile sadistically. She regained her ground and tried to ease herself up slightly to take the strain from her wrists and stem the agony. Suddenly feeling the crude wooden post with iron shackles being forced between her ankles and secured in place around each one. He remained kneeling in front of her, feeling his breath on her pussy, she steeled herself, waiting for his touch. His hands reached up, grabbing her breasts and roughly kneading them, his long nails digging into her flesh. In an instant his mouth was on her sex, his tongue penetrating her, grunts escaping his throat as he feasted on her greedily. His nails digging into her breasts much harder, until she felt the skin give way and the warm trickle of her blood running down her body. She thrashed against the pain, crying out, which only served to spur him on. His tongue buried deep within her, thrusting into her wetness over and over. Despite her efforts, her body responded independently of her will, reacting to his mouth and tongue. His lips closing around her clit and sucking on it feverishly, she couldn't help herself, she moaned with the pleasure that began to engulf her. His tongue began dipping in and out of her cunt, now soaking wet and sensitive to each flick, each lick, each suck. She hated the fact that he had this effect on her, hated the thought that she could derive pleasure from this monster before her. Feeling the muscle of his tongue swirling inside her, lapping at her, stroking the inner walls of her sex. His mouth wild and searching, closing over the soft lips of her pussy, drawing them into his mouth, while his tongue snaked inside the hot sheath of her. Moaning with the pleasure she had tried so hard to suppress, her breathing became rapid, immersed in the familiar sensations that ran through her entire body, building her towards an oncoming orgasm. He suddenly stopped, denying her the release that her body craved.

She looked down at him, her whole core tingling, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He grinned malevolently at her, his eyes glinting with sadistic glee, relishing the control he had over her. She watched with trepidation as he reached for the dagger, clasping it at the grip stop and lower portion of the hilt, just above the sharp edges of the shiny steel blade. He began to stand, stopping and sucking on one of her nipples as he rose up, her wounds from his nails now completely healed. She let out a small sigh, as he sucked the nipple into his mouth hard and pulled his head back, allowing it to pop from his lips, her breast bouncing as he released it. His free hand gripped her throat, she didn't care, her eyes were fixed on the dagger and wondering what he was going to do with it, what pain must she endure next? "Look at me!" he commanded. She pulled her eyes away from the blade, aware that his arm was lowering and the dagger was disappearing towards her sex. Panic began to rise in her, her whole body went rigid, preparing for the pain she imagined he would inflict on her. She felt the coldness of the steel pommel touch her clit and balked, her eyes almost pleading with his. He began to rub the smooth steel around her sensitive bud, his grip on her throat tightening. She moaned as the pommel was pressed firmer onto her, sending surges through her, sensations of cold and pleasure in a heady mix, danced over her body. He locked onto her eyes, feeling excitement at the lust that he saw flicker in and out of the beautiful green that looked back at him, the eyes that had always captivated his soul. A grin appearing on his lips, his eyes widening slightly when he suddenly thrust the pommel of the dagger into her cunt. Her body jerked suddenly, not expecting the cold steel to be used to penetrate her sex. The large bulbous pommel, with it's sparkling ruby gem, stretching her and making her flinch. He thrust the handle of the dagger further into her, she gasped loudly, feeling him begin to piston it inside her, slowly at first, then gaining speed until he was fucking her hard with the mix of leather and steel. Trying not to react was futile, this new pleasure finding a home in her and releasing electrical pulses through her entire being. She groaned loudly, her hips rolling involuntarily, still staring into his eyes as he had commanded. His hand working furiously, thrusting the hilt mercilessly inside her. She cried out with each deep penetration. Her wetness, a torrent of pleasure running down the handle and onto his fingers, the wet slapping sounds of her sex echoing in the room as he fucked her with vigour, his index finger striking against her outer lips with each thrust. He saw the look in her eye change, her brow start to knit and felt her body tense. "No! Not yet, don't you dare cum!" he hissed. She fought against the surges that rocketed her towards orgasm, eager to please him, but she wasn't sure how long she could stay the inevitable. He stopped and withdrew the dagger from her, it's pommel and hilt glistening with her wetness. A moan of utter frustration escaped her and her confusion blatantly evident in her eyes. He raised the dagger to her mouth. "Open!" he commanded. She opened her lips and he slid the pommel in her mouth, making her taste her slick wetness that coated it. He ran it around the inside of her mouth and over her tongue, clattering against her teeth; making her suck it clean, before he removed it and dropped it behind him onto the carpet with a loud thud.

Still holding her throat, he undid his trousers and freed his hard cock, guiding the tip of it to her swollen and wet cunt. With one movement, he thrust hard and deep into her, she gasped, feeling his cock enter her roughly. His grip around her throat unrelenting, as he hammered into her without mercy, grunting with the effort and the pleasure he felt. Her spine forced sharply against the wooden stanchion, painfully pressing against her vertebrae. He extended his fangs, biting down onto one of her breasts as he savagely fucked her. His tongue flicking over the soft flesh captured in his mouth, mopping up the blood that flowed. She gasped loudly, closing her eyes and feeling the mix of sensations that engulfed her pale form. She could hold out no longer, the intense pleasure overwhelmed her, the need to cum now urgent. She began to cry out with every thrust, wave upon wave of sheer bliss crashed over her. He released her breast, the punctures beginning to heal immediately. Moving his head up her body, he bit hard into her shoulder and latched on, using her flesh to give him purchase, while he slammed into her harder. She cried out with the mixture of pain and pleasure that he was giving her and like a steam train racing to it's destination, her orgasm, unstoppable in it's intensity, powered through her body. She let out a primal cry, as her pussy clenched hard around his cock, causing him to relinquish his hold on her shoulder and call out her name several times as he erupted inside her. He remained pressed hard against her for a moment, his cum gushing in waves inside her flooded cunt. Her head slumped back, spent and hardly able to hold herself up by her shaky legs, the muscles of her thighs twitching wildly from the intensity. He stepped back slightly, his cock slipping wetly out of her and releasing his grip on her slender neck. He looked into her eyes, an angry look on his face. "You made me finish too soon Ayiana!" he snarled at her. "You know what happens when you do that!" he exclaimed. She did, she knew all too well.

Her gaze followed him as he approached the table and picked up the thin bamboo cane and returned to stand before her. He ran the tip of the cane over her, following the curves of her body. She felt the end of the cane run around the swell of her left breast, followed by the sharp sting as he flicked it against her nipple. Her body jerked, a whimper escaping her throat, her nipple throbbing from the strike. He turned his attention to her right breast and did the same, before alternating between the two. Her nipples erect and hard endured the sting from the cane, pulsing and sore, yet sending pleasure through the nerves with every bite from it. He traced the tip of the cane down her body, over her belly and running it up between her shaking thighs, tapping it firmly on her clit. She gasped, her swollen bud so sensitive already, absorbed the attention he now gave it and sent a flurry of exquisite bliss through her. He watched her intently, watching her body twitch, enjoying the power that he elicited from this, becoming more and more excited with each reaction she gave him. Taking the cane, he stood back slightly and flexed it between his hands before releasing one end, which sprang back and connected sharply with her sex. She whimpered, the blows sending both pain and pleasure through her whole body, as his continued well aimed strikes hit their mark. He struck her pallid torso, the stings of the cane leaving a crisscross of welts on her body, her breasts and her throbbing pussy. He walked round the back of the stanchion, striking the parts of her buttocks that were exposed to him, until they were glowing red and marked with linear tracks. Constantly he whipped at her soft pale skin, the welts standing out against her milky flesh, fading only slightly as they healed. She flinched and thrashed during this punishment and when he was done, he would kiss all the wounds tenderly as they disappeared, before once more sinking to his knees and tonguing her swollen and bruised pussy to climax. This was her routine, sex, pain and then a beating for making him cum too fast, followed swiftly by the worst of it; the shame she felt for allowing her body to respond pleasurably to his sexual proclivities. He had utter control of her and he knew it. One day, she would have her chance to escape him....one day.

*******

The fire was nearly out, she hadn't realised she had sat here that length of time. She could feel the congealed blood tightening the skin on her face, almost dried and beginning to flake away. A faint light running along the horizon told her that dawn was approaching. She felt the anger stirring inside her, hating the memories that tonight had brought to the forefront of her mind. She needed to keep the past where it belonged, behind her, never to be revisited. This, she would remind herself of on the walk back to the Den. She checked her flank, the deep stab wounds now healed, their presence only evident by the streaks of blood that remained. She hoped that the hunt tonight would stand her in good stead for a while, would ease the hunger for a few more days.

She would normally feel remorse and utter hatred for herself for taking a life, but with these animals, she felt justified. Had she not arrived when she did, that poor girl may have been the only body among the thick forest tonight, once they had taken what they wanted from her of course. She couldn't fully fathom how she had felt earlier, the complete lack of feeling for them, even for the girl. It had taken such will to allow her to leave with her life intact. She had struggled year upon year to retain her humanity, now it escaped her like water through her fingers and she was powerless to stop the leak. It seemed that the older the vampire the more feral they became when all alone. She was aware that all feelings and abilities became heightened the greater the age of her kind and she could feel the changes within her, she was losing control and the worst part was; she was starting to embrace it.

Umbria entered his room obediently, her eyes glued to the floor. She was wearing a black leather mini skirt and a black leather bustier and nothing else. She studied the intricate pattern of hardwood which she lovingly washed and scrubbed for her Master after he fed. She knew he would want to use her body for his pleasure, she had learned her Master's habits and did her best to keep his needs satisfied.

"What do you need, Master?"

His voice was smooth and sweet.

"I've become bored with you Umbria, so I am giving you to Willow to play with. And look Umbria, she has been kind enough to provide me with a replacement."

Umbria raised her eyes as ordered. Her Master was reclining on a chaise longue, naked. A male thrall was sucking on his cock. Well, he wasn't so much sucking as chocking on his cock. Fabian's hand was forcing him down onto his huge cock. The thrall was whimpering and gagging as it was forcibly rammed down his throat. He would coo at his new toy asking if he wanted more of his cock, and the thrall would nod vehemently his face a mess of tears, snot and spit. Umbria suppressed a feeling of jealousy, that was the cock she loved to choke on. Her eyes began to well up with tears. It was then she heard Willow's voice.

"Stop blubbering you stupid piece of shit!"

Willow was one of her Master's closest friends, she was lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a disapproving sneer.

"Get over here and eat my pussy you filthy little cunt. And you had better hope you do a better job than that little cocksucker over there or I might just have you sent to the blood bank."

Obediently, Umbria walked towards Willow. Her mind was a blur of confused thoughts. What had she done to her beloved Master to deserve this. But if this is what he wanted then so be it, she would eat Willow's pussy as best as she could. She crawled onto the bed on all fours and began by kissing Willow's inner thigh. She had never been with a woman but knew what she liked done to her so she started with that. Her kisses were soft, letting her tongue snake out to lick the soft skin of her inner thigh. She felt Willow's hand slide into her hair then knot into a fist. Willow rolled her eyes and sighed.

"No fucking around, I said eat my pussy, you stupid cunt, now eat it."

She pulled Umbria's face into her pussy with a loud, wet smack.

"Eat it!"

Umbria's face was immediately drenched, Willow had apparently been enjoying watching her thrall gag on Fabian's cock. To her surprise, Umbria found that she smelled wonderful and tasted sweet as she licked Willow's cum from her lips. She immediately began to lick at Willow's drenched cunt. She was rewarded with a soft moan. She slid her tongue into her as far as it would go as Willow crushed her face into her wetness, grinding against her. She let her tongue slide up to her clit. Willow moaned and pulled her face more forcefully into her drenched cunt until Umbria began to find it hard to breathe. She tried to pull back but Willow's grip was like iron. She began to panic and thrash her head from side to side trying to get a quick breath.

"That's right, bitch, I want you to fucking drown in my cum! Suck that clit, bitch and maybe I'll let you breathe!"

She did as she was told, taking Willow's swollen clit between her lips and sucking, feeling it throb between her lips with every suck. At least she could breathe again, the scent of her cum was arousing, knowing she was pleasing her made her pussy start to tingle.

"Now finger my cunt, bitch! Good and hard!"

She slid first one finger, then two into Willow's cunt. Pumping her pussy as fast and hard as she could while her tongue slid across her clit faster and faster. Her shoulder was burning from the exertion until she heard Willow cry out, her whole body convulsing as she squirted all over her face. Panting and still convulsing, willow turned to Fabian.

"She's not bad, I might keep her around after all."

He sighed deeply.

"Then I guess you got the better end of the deal, this one is completely useless. I thought you said he would be good at this."

Willow laughed as her spasms started to subside.

"Just because I called the little bitch a cocksucker doesn't mean he's good at it. You do so love humiliating male thralls though, I thought you would be delighted with him. You know I never pegged that one, his ass is probably pretty tight if you're in the mood for that."

She then turned to Umbria who was waiting quietly for further instructions, with her face drenched.

"Now suck those fingers! Don't lick them, I said suck them, shove them down your fucking throat! Gag yourself on those cum drenched fingers!"

She moved in a blur, grabbing Umbria by the back of the head and forcing her fingers down her throat until she was struggling to breathe and her eyes watered.

"Suck those fingers, bitch. I bet you wish that was Fabian's cock don't you? Look at him. You see that cocksucker doing what you wish you could?"

Umbria watched with naked jealousy as the man continued to choke on her Master's cock. Her pussy ached as she lusted for it.

"Oh Fabian, look at that, your little bitch's cunt is drooling like a hungry dog for your cock!"

Willow's voice lowered to whisper at her ear.

"You might never get that cock again though, I might decide you will be eating my pussy from now on."

Fabian's frustration was mounting. He pulled the man up by the hair. He looked at him with an air of displeasure. He rose from the chaise to his full height. Picking the man off his feet by the hair, he slammed him forcibly down, face first, into the chaise. He turned to Willow and smiled as he began to push his cock into the man's asshole. The thrall howled and then screamed as Fabian began pumping his huge cock into him faster and faster with a cruel smile painted on his face.

"He is pretty tight, I suppose, but he doesn't know how to take a cock like a man, disappointing."

Willow laughed and continued to whisper in Umbria's ear.

"You wish he was fucking you like that don't you? Stretching your ass and your cunt with that throbbing cock!"

She moved her hand down to Umbria's pussy and found it soaked.

"You filthy little whore. If you want to be fucked, I'll fuck you. Bend over, I want you to watch!"

Umbria did as she was told, bending over on all fours.

"Did I tell you to take your fucking fingers out of your mouth? Put them back!"

Again, she did as she was told and felt a finger slide into her. She moaned, she couldn't help it, she was watching her beloved Master's cock, oh how she wanted that cock inside her. A second and third finger slide into her and she moaned more deeply. Willow's lips were at her ear.

"You like that, bitch? Well you're going love this."

Willow withdrew her fingers. Umbria then felt her knuckle begin to push against her cunt. She tried to scream but dared not remove the fingers from her mouth. Willow's entire fist was slowly, painfully, pushing itself into her. It was stretching her so much, Willow pushed her fist in all the way to her cervix then began to pump her. It was excruciating and exhilarating all at once. How she wished it was her Master's cock stretching her, slamming into her over and over. She watched, whimpering as Willow fisted her harder and faster. Watched as her Master arched his back, bearing his fangs. Watched as he buried those fangs into the thrall's neck and began to feed. The fisting was reaching a fevered pitch and she couldn't help it, she was going to cum. Willow then immediately pulled her fist out of her pussy.

"You don't get to cum bitch. Now, clean your foul fucking cum off me!"

Willow pulled Umbria's fingers out of her mouth and then shoved her own fingers down her throat. She was chocking her as tears and snot were pouring down her face. She lost sight of her Master in the blur of tears. Though she could hear his voice.

"Sorry my dear, I have apparently drained the poor little fuck."

Willow's voice was filled with mirth.

"Don't be, I never really liked him anyway, cock was too fucking small."

Fabian approached Willow and kissed her deeply. She moaned at the kiss and the taste of the mouthful of blood he let slip into her mouth. Umbria watched, wishing he would kiss her too.

"Clean the shit off my cock, Umbria. I am going to fuck Willow, and she will want that cock clean."

Again, Umbria did as she was told without question, eager to have her Master's cock in her mouth again, no matter what the situation. She let him fuck her mouth as she licked, gulped and gagged on it. She adored every moment of it until he pulled out of her mouth. Then threw her to the chaise.

"Clean that mess up, Umbria, I'm done with you for now."

She began to remove the drained body from the room, watching as he fucked Willow. Her cunt drooling, her body aching, wishing she could be Willow. She couldn't help herself, she began to rub herself. Unfortunately Willow had seen her do it. Fabian became angry, with any luck he would punish her, and keep Willow from having his cock. Perhaps he would whip her again, anything to keep him from fucking Willow and keeping his focus on his beloved Umbria.

"You may punish me as you see fit, Master."

Sadly, he did not, her punishment was to be tied to the chaise and forced to watch her Master fuck. Willow's eyes never left hers, mocking her as her Master took his pleasure from her body, fucking her doggy style. Fabian looked over at his little Umbria, her face a mask of equal parts desire and humiliation, oh how he loved seeing her like that. He was enjoying Willow's pussy, as she clamped down on his cock like a vice. He felt a hand on his shoulder. In his surprise he turned to see Vincent's face, twisted in agony, silently screaming his name.

His eyes opened with a start to the sound of a familiar voice.

"I have come for you, my Master."

Fabian could not believe his ears, it was Umbria. He could not feel his limbs, his mind was foggy, and his vision blurred. Memories were flooding through his mind now. He remembered being in the cell. He remembered being taunted by Umbria. He remembered the blinding lights and pain as the cell was opened and the hunters took him. He remembered the screaming as he was put into a transport. He remembered the cells, row after row of cells containing his brethren. And something else, though he could not put his finger on what it was.

"You taunted me. You're a hunter, you betrayed me, you ran from me."

Umbria's face was awash in shame, her voice pleading.

"I was being watched by other hunters, I knew I had to convince them to take you alive. It was the only way to save you, Master. I'm so sorry. When we escape you may punish me as you see fit."

The earnestness in her eyes was overwhelming.

"I had to run so that I could stop the hunts. I knew you would not let your precious Umbria do such a dangerous mission, but it was all for you."

Fabian's dulled senses were having a hard time registering all this information. Umbria continued more slowly.

"I saw how troubled you were when Eric and Vanessa were slaughtered. I never wanted to see your beautiful face so troubled again so I made a decision. I would infiltrate the hunters, I would learn all I could then I would come back to you so that together we could destroy them."

She kissed him hard on the mouth. She tasted just as sweet as she always had. Memories flooded his mind. She pulled away.

"You are being drugged to keep you immobile but that will wear off soon. I have made sure of that. I left two blood packets next to you. Once you recover your ability to move, you will need to feed. I will ensure there is a distraction to allow you to escape with me."

Fabian interrupted her exuberance.

"Where are they keeping Vincent, I know he's here and I know he's in pain, I must save him."

Umbria's eyes narrowed.

"I didn't know you were sired by Vincent, that's how you can feel him, right? Isn't that interesting. Though it does make sense considering how much he doted on you."

Fabian's heart sunk as he registered the change of tone in her voice.

"Umbria, what do you mean?"

Umbria's face broke into a cruel smile.

"What I mean, is that I've been fucking with you this whole time."

Her laughter cut straight through Fabian leaving him feeling nauseous.

"I wasn't able to torment you as much as I wanted the first time and I've had a week to come up with the best way to fuck with you. I figured giving you hope then snatching it away was a good way to do it. Oh my God, your face! It was priceless. For a moment there you honestly believed you were going to get out of this."

Fabian's mind was a hard ball of white hot fury but he was not going to show this ungrateful bitch that she had won.

"No, you still need me, you need me to find Ayiana and what if I tell the hunters of your friend's dalliances with her?"

Ramirez's laughter was liquid condescension.

"You are so predictable, Fabian: always looking for an angle. Well, I already submitted a report about Ayiana. She's an anomaly, a vampire that won't kill her prey and didn't even try to feed on Duncan during his hunt. Of course, without all the information and photographic evidence your boys collected on her it would have been nearly impossible to prove that to the directors. So, I guess, I can thank you for that. And don't worry, Willow already gave us all the information we needed about where Ayiana is. She was so incredibly eager to betray you to save her own skin. Duncan's on his way to your safe house as we speak. The only reason I came here was to mess with you, you pathetic. Little. Prick."

Fabian raged in silence for a moment until he heard a door open and watched as a large, bearded man entered the room. Fabian knew exactly what he was by smell alone. It was then that it clicked in his mind.

"I am old enough to remember your kind by their stench. But there's something different about you, you're not all changeling, are you. What kind of half-breed are you?"

Johanson smiled.

"You won't be feeling so superior once we tell the Intelligence Directorate that you were sired by Vincent, oh the things they will do to you to get to him."

Fabian decided he would not go down without a fight.

"So tell me, half-breed, why do you get to run around free while all the others of your kind are kept in cages?"

*****

"Good morning, uhhh, let me see, do we have a name here. Ah yes, there it is, Solomon."

Solomon's eyes could not focus. He felt waves of panic wash over him. He knew where he was, where any captured vampire would end up.

"My name is Dr. Andrew Scott, I am here to administer your initial orientation. I will keep this brief. Vampires that enter R&D usually wind up in one of three principle research areas, none of which are particularly pleasant but there is certainly a hierarchy of misery. These areas main focus is to help us eradicate the threat of blood suckers, like yourself. The first is probably the most painful: weapons development. Here your healing powers will be put to their fullest test as you are cut, burned, blasted, and poisoned over and over and over. There is also genetic development possibly the most noble pursuit in R&D. We are always trying to find a cure for the cruel disease that infects you. We have made huge progress but are still not quite there yet. However, for you, it would involve repeated vivisection as various treatments are applied. Not the most palatable of situations to find yourself in. The last is psychological protocols. If we can't cure the beast, then perhaps we can at least control it. Lots of pharmaceuticals with some horrific side effects here but let's face it, it beats getting the shit kicked out of you or getting cut to pieces on a daily basis. But very fortunately for us, we have identified your sire through the genetic markers in your blood. So you will not be going to R&D, well, at least not right away, you are being passed along to the Intelligence Directorate for advanced interrogation."

Solomon was terrified, whimpering. How had this all happened? How did they know he had been sired by Vincent?

"But not to worry, you will soon be reunited with Vincent. You see, it is hard to make a strong vampire crack. Almost impossible, in fact. Their wills have been forged through centuries of brutality. But you, you're already literally pissing yourself you're so scared. And that's how we will break our dear Mister Vincent. If we get you two close enough and with the right combination of drugs, your bond with him will be his undoing. He will feel your fear as his own, your pain as his own. I'm afraid, the survival rate for a class C vampire like yourself is only about 10%. Our methods are, a bit crude. But, if you do survive, you will be a perfect candidate for the psychological protocols. So there is some upside I suppose. Now, do you have any questions before these two gentlemen bring you over for a reunion with Vincent?"

Simon had no words, he simply whimpered helplessly as fat tears began to well up in his eyes.

"Excellent, he's all yours gentleman."

Solomon's bed was wheeled out of the room.

*****

Johanson slid the key-card across the sensor and heard the click of the lock opening. He was certainly not supposed to be in here. But if that bastard, Fabian, was right, he would find what he was looking for in here. The rows of containment cells were quite impressive. Once they had been initially interrogated and had their blood work finalized, the vampires they captured were kept here, frozen solid, until they were needed. It was mildly eerie to see their frozen faces as he walked the length of the R&D containment facility. And then he found it, or rather them. A chill crawled it's way up his spine. Nine cells kept separate from the others. He could not recognize them, not like this, though their names were displayed on the screens of the medical monitors they were attached to. Five wolves, two boars, a puma, and a bear. They were in their transformed state, the other nine survivors of Operation Totem. They were wearing thick collars which were attached to some kind of head gear. Johanson could not comprehend what he was looking at, they were supposed to be dead. He had been told they had been euthanized out of mercy. Totem had been shuttered. So what were they doing down here, frozen, but very much alive?

There was a computer. He logged in using Ramirez's old R&D credentials. It worked and for the first time he thanked IT for it's complete incompetence. He found a secure folder named "Operation Totem". He tried opening it with Ramirez's old access code.

Access Denied

There was another named"Operation Omaha".

Access Denied

There was one named "Sortie Logs".

Access Denied

His earpiece clicked as he heard Ramirez's whispered voice.

"Move it lover, I can't hold him anymore, you have five minutes."

Thirty minutes later he was sitting in his room in silence while Ramirez tried her best to stay calm in the wake of the revelation.

"We have to leave, lover. Knowing this, how the Hell can we trust HQ?"

Johanson just sat, stark still staring at his HQ issued cell phone. He needed to find Duncan. He needed to know and there was no way he was going to tell him over a text he couldn't be sure was secure. He fingered his amulet. Who could they trust anymore?

*****

Duncan was sitting in his car as the sun set. No one had gone in or out of the house all day. He kept his eyes glued to it through the binoculars. It was a good place for a safe house. Sparsely populated but not so sparsely that a meal could not be found if needed. Once the sun had fully set, he drove up to the driveway of the house. He sighed. What was he doing? What was so important about this creature? If nothing else he wanted answers. Of course he steeled himself for the worst possible outcome: he was fully armed and ready should an attack come. He walked up the path to the front door, mounted the few steps, took a deep breath, and knocked at the door.