Topic: An Eye for an Eye

Jonathan Granger

Date: 2011-10-15 15:18 EST
The girl gasped in pain as sharp teeth sank into the tender flesh at her wrist. She winced and held her breath while she waited for the pain to subside. She knew it would. It always did. She heard the vampire's voice in her head, even as the blood was being drawn from her body to feed the other.

"It's all right, petite. Just relax. It will be over soon, and then you can rest."

The girl sighed as the pain melted away, feeling as if she was floating, or falling into a dream she could never quite wake herself from. How many times had she offered herself to the other" She'd lost count long ago.

The vampire fed with the utmost restraint. The blood of young ones was always the sweetest, but one had to use restraint when feeding, as they were too easily killed, and then they were of no further use.

There were ten of them in Josephine's care. Seven boys, three girls, all of them orphans. No one missed them, no one cared. Like prized pets, she gave them the best of care, and they wanted for nothing. Not even freedom. One day, they knew, they'd become like her. It was the promise of immortality that kept them in her thrall. Blood seemed such a small price to pay really for what they would receive in return.

Kit had been one of them, but turned too soon by another vampire who lacked Josephine's restraint. Fond of the girl, Josephine had let her live, despite her youthful brashness. Time, however, had never seemed to mature the girl, and Josephine knew it was Kit's own foolishness that had eventually ended in her demise. Still, the knowledge of that did nothing to quell the desire for revenge. Though she knew Jonathan had not solely been to blame for Kit's death, someone had to pay. They had taken something from her, and she was going to take something just as precious from them. And then, maybe they'd understand that she meant business.

"Mistress..." A decidedly masculine voice drew the vampire out of her thoughts. She sighed quietly and licked the blood from her lips as she ever so gently pulled away from the girl's wrist, licking the wound to seal it and laying the girl to rest in a sumptuous bed covered in rich silks and satins in vibrant hues of red and orange, like that of a fiery sunrise.

"What is it, Marcellus?" Josephine queried as she turned to face the other vampire, who was older than Kit but far younger than herself. "Have I not instructed you not to interrupt me while I'm feeding?"

"Yes, Mistress, but this is important. I've been following the Granger girl. The sister."

Josephine smiled, her irritation quickly forgotten, her interest piqued. "Very good, Marcellus. Please, tell me more."

Helena King

Date: 2011-10-15 17:20 EST
The night of Ollie's wedding, something snapped.

She was always the good girl, the quiet one. When their mother died and Jon's rebellion took him from home, she'd stayed and taken care of her father. She endured the fits of temper, the drinking, the taunts. There were never any bruises to show for it, so it was easy to look the other way and pretend it wasn't happening. Lena was smart. Lena had a good head on her shoulders. Lena was going to be just fine.

Meanwhile, Jon sowed his oats, made a movie. Made a dozen. Went to rehab, and was still the darling of Hollywood. She went to college, came home every weekend, and when the anorexia couldn't be ignored any longer, David covered it up, put her in a mental hospital, lectured her on the shame she would bring to the family.

When he'd died, it had been a relief not to have to take care of anyone. Then Jon had come home.

Lena was there for the aftermath of the shooting and picked up the pieces after he left Correy. She was good, and she was quiet and she was smart. She listened to him chase off men in the inn and lecture her about the way she dressed, and she wondered what the f*ck she was doing wrong with her life to have nothing to show for twenty-one years of being what she was expected to be besides that.

The thing that killed it was this: the whole time he'd been riding her, he'd been hiding what he was up to. He was addicted to blood. Eli was killing vampires on her front porch to try and protect him, and there was a lug of an "assistant' named Ivan who'd had to hold Jon down in her guest room to keep him from running outside to join the monster calling him. He'd brought that to Ollie's wedding, and she had to clean it up. She had to take care of it. Because that's what she was expected to do. And she'd never had a life, never had a life of her own, and it was too much.

Screw that.

Music blared from the club on the docks, past the closed door with the muscle-bound doormen who were painted green and violet and orange beneath signs announcing LIVE BAND and BADSIDER ALE. Lines of motorcycles leaned outside, metal horses at the hitching post. Another two pulled up while she stood outside trying to get up the nerve to go in. One of the drivers gave her a long, hard look as he swung a leg over the saddle.

"Comin" inside, sweetheart?" He was big, rough-looking, and coming her way. "Ain't safe to just stand out here by yourself." It wasn't safe to go inside with him, either. The thought sent a shiver down the back of her neck.

"Yeah," she jerked a chin toward the door. "I'm coming in. Buy me a beer?"