Waking up from a jolting nightmare was never a good time for anyone. When you had a dark past, it tended to get worse. But who didn't have a dark past in these parts? In this place called Rhy'Din, there were likely a hundred other people with similar pasts or even darker horrors than hers. In retrospect, hers probably weren't all that bad.

But it didn't change the fact they haunted her nearly every night.

Lunging forward in a breathless quake, cold sweat coating her skin like a second layer of flesh, she gasped. Blue-green eyes shot wide and stared forward at the bland cream colored walls of her efficiency apartment, she took a shaky breath. Shaking hands came up to brush the drenched chestnut locks away from her forehead where they were stuck.

"Son of a bitch."

Muttering to herself was a common occurrence, this morning was no different. Finding the air in her lungs, she grabbed hold of the sheet that was covering her lower half and tossed it aside. Legs slid across the mattress and feet dropped to the floor as she hung her head for a moment, shaking her dream away she let out a slow sigh and stood.

Every morning was like in slow motion, her movement felt slowed and sluggish from lack of good sleep, her head was fuzzy from her dreams of bloodshed and the monster she assumed she'd become eventually. Little was known of her kind, probably because they were killed for being abominations before they made it to adulthood.

Her fingers raked through damp locks as she made her way to the bathroom, breaching the doorway and got a good look at herself in the mirror. There were bags under her eyes, darker than the rest of her complexion making them look bruised. Her skin was paler than it needed to be from waking the way she had and it shined with the slick coating of sweat.

Her jaw clenched, expelling a heaving sigh through her nose as she reached for the knobs to turn the cold water on in the sink.

Why did I... why would I do something like that?

I'll answer any questions you have on the way there, but we need to leave, Avery. Now.

Leave? Why are we leaving, where the hell are we going?

What you did... people are going to be looking for you, baby. People that want to hurt you. We need to get you somewhere safe.

Hurt me... why would they want to hurt me? It was an accident! I didn't me-..

Avery. Please. Pack your bags, only the necessities. I promise, I'll explain everything on the way.

... Okay, Ma.

The cold water had her gasping as she splashing it on her face, her eyes squeezed shut as she quieted the sounds of her mother's voice in her head. Blindly reaching for a towel, she leaned up from where she was bent forward and blotted the water from her face, giving it a final swipe. Her eyes open to stare at herself in the mirror, her hands leaning on the edge of the sink as she tried to search for something in those eyes staring back at her. What it was? She didn't know. Just something.

Giving up, she shook her head and tossed the towel aside, heading toward the shower to get it started.

The gentle rumble of the car slowed as she pulled up to a side street, cutting the engine and cramming the keys into the pockets of her jeans. It was a sketchy neighborhood for sure, but she'd grown accustomed to meeting her dealer here. At first, she was always paranoid and looking over her shoulder every few seconds, waiting to get mugged or attacked by some other freak like herself.

Reminding herself it was no worse than Detroit or Chicago, she scoffed under her breath. "Yeah, right." Most of the citizens of those cities were human. Here, humans were harder to come by.

Hopping up onto the sidewalk, she gave a subtle glance around to make sure no one saw her. Her hands found refuge into the single large pocket of her hoodie, her steps quickening before she ducked into an alley beside an abandoned warehouse. She found the backdoor to the place, another glance around to make sure no one saw her, and she slipped a hand from her pocket to ease open the door that was left unlocked.

Opening the door just enough to slip herself through, she closed it behind her. The warehouse was shaded from the morning sun for the most part, rays of light shining through the high rise busted windows in areas, not that the dim lighting made it any harder for her to see.

She didn't call out, not yet. She knew the drill. He came to you after you came to him.

Efficient and ready, speak of the devil and he'll show his face. Around a discarded and half decayed warehouse shelf for pallets and boxes, he rounded with her fix in hand. A generic blue and white cooler, his fingers grasping the handle.

"Morning, Dev." He grunted, approached and came right up to her. She always had to do a double take with this man, considering the first time she'd met him he had been wearing a pristine and obviously expensive business suit. The man knew how to blend, his attire not that far off from her own. A hoodie, a pair of jeans, his hair wasn't in perfect condition and he had a cigarette dangling from his lips. He narrowed his eyes at her, his free hand slowly rising to pull the stick from his mouth and the descent to his side was just as slow. "Jesus, girl. You looked like shit."

She shot him a glare, head tilting slightly as the fact that her fix was so close but so far away was tugging at her patience. "You don't look so hot yourself, Ronnie." There was a light sneer on her lips, the longer she went without her fix, the more irritable she got.

Sighing, he brought his cigarette back to his mouth and left it there as he flipped the lid to the cooler to show her the goods. "Cool it, PMS. I got your stuff. I don't see why you need me to get it for you." He shook his head, giving an exasperated sigh as his fingers slid away from the lid and left it to fall shut with a soft thud. "Place like this, they've probably got banks that you can buy it from like it's a damn convenience store."

Her fingers twitched, her eyes locking onto the sight of the treasure tucked into the cooler as she couldn't hold back the tongue that flicked against her bottom lip. His words had another glare shot his way, "you know why."

"What? Pretending to be human?" He spoke as his brows rose and he took a slight lean forward, squinting through the haze of smoke at her. "Hate to break it to ya, sweetheart. But you ain't human."

"I'm half, and that's close enough," she barked at him, her fingers twitching enough she had to clench her fists to get them to stop. "People find out you're somethin' else, it's what you are that becomes a title. Not your damn name." It seemed that glaring was becoming her usual in his presence.

"Standing out ain't so bad, Dev." He rolled his eyes, finishing off the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and squashing it with his foot. "Humans are just numbers, disposable. They breed like rabbits and there's always more." Shaking a finger at her. "You, you're one of a kind, Dev. You should keep it that way."

They'd had this conversation nearly a hundred times by now, and every time he tried to convince her to come out with it. Shaking her head, she gave him an exhausted look. We've been over this, why do you keep trying?. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're gettin' tired of my business, Ron." Swinging the hammer right back around to him.

He looked appalled at the idea, raising his brows as he took a lean back. "That's bull**** and we both know it. You're one of my favorite customers." His smile grew into a grin, since she wasn't going to continue their conversation he just lifted the cooler to her.

"Then stop bitching about me and keep it to business then," muttered as she looked away, only to drift her gaze back when he held out the cooler. A roll of bills was pulled from her hoodie pocket and set into his waiting hand.

"Works for me," he chuckled, that grin spreading wider at the sight of the roll of bills before he curls his fingers around it and released his hold of the cooler when she reached out to take it.

"Good, we done here?"

"Yeah, Dev. We're done."

She turned around, cooler in hand as she started to the door, pausing as he spoke up with her hand on the handle of the door.

"Oh, and Devon?"

"Hm?"

"Take care of yourself. And don't wait until you're out to get in contact with me for your next fix," he snickered, perhaps at the urgency of her need for it.

Scowling, she gave the handle a tug. "Yeah, I'll remember to do that." And then she was gone.

She'd spent the rest of the day in a power surged haze, the bruises beneath her eyes had faded into nearly being invisible. Her skin looked much more radiant and for once she took a breath that didn't make her feel like her lungs were going to collapse.

She'd gone around her apartment, cleaned it up and took a drive. She did some shopping for the apartment, restocking food that she could finally eat without wanting to dry heave it back up. And behind that smile, was hidden guilt that she'd given in to the power yet again.

Now, she'd finally managed to get tired enough to sleep. She just hoped that for once, she got a good night's rest.

Lady Luck wasn't quite on her side tonight, however.

__________________________________

"Devon, where'd you go baby?"

Crap, Ma's going to see what I've done. Her hands twitched as she frantically tried to cram the dead body of the animal in the bush. It was just a deer, but suddenly she was in a state of urgency to get rid of the evidence.

"Oh, Devonnnn. Come on, dinner's on the ta-.....ble...." Her words faltered as she rounded the corner of the small house, stopping in her tracks and staring at her daughter that was crouched on the ground. "What's going on, there?" She questioned, approaching her.

Her eyes slowly closed as she cursed under her breath and rose slowly to her feet, trying not to turn around. She tried to wipe her mouth on dirtied hands, but it just smeared more.

"Devon?.. What's wrong with you?" Concern laced her mother's features as she came up behind the girl and grabbed hold of her shoulders. "Why won't you look at me? Come on." Turning her around, she let go as she let out a gasp at the sight of Devon's hands and the smear on her mouth. Covering her mouth, her eyes wide, she grasped the girl's wrists tightly. "Devon! What did you do?"

Even as she was turned, she'd avoided eye contact with her mother. Guilt and shame riddled on her features as her crimson smeared mouth and hands were on full display now that she was facing her Ma. "Ma, it's not what you think... I'm sorry," whispering the last as her head ducked. "I didn't... I was..."

"Who's blood is that, Devon? Who's?!" Gripping those wrists tightly, she shook them like she could shake the answers out of her.

"No one's, Ma. It's just a deer's... I didn't hurt anybody," she pleaded, glancing to the bush where she'd tried to hide the cadaver.

Silent for a moment, she followed the girl's gaze to the bush and slowly let go of her wrists before giving her a glance and heading toward the bush. It wasn't mistrust of Dev that had her searching for proof, but she knew that sometimes Devon could lose control. Her hands pushed aside the branches of the bush, getting a glimpse of crimson smeared tan fur and the twisted and mangled body of the animal. Sighing, she pulled back and released the branches. "It's still risky, baby. What if someone had seen you?"

"They didn't, I was careful." Protesting, she shook her head and tried to avoid looking down at her own stained hands.

"All it takes is a little bit, Devon. I told you abou-.."

Cut off by Devon, "I know, Ma. No human on the menu." She scowled, turning her head away in the other direction. "I don't want to hurt anyone, you know that." Her jaw clenched, the muscle jumping beneath the tensed flesh.

She sighed softly, approaching her daughter once again. "I know you don't, Dev." Her hand came up to brush those brown bangs out of her face, trying to wipe at the smear on her mouth with her thumb. "I just worry. Your Da' didn't tell me much, but he told me to make sure you didn't get hold of it." Shaking her head, she let her hands slowly drop to her sides. Staring at the daughter who was avoiding eye contact with her, she ticked her head toward the house. "Come on inside, let's clean you up."

"What about the deer..." She whispered, clenching her fists.

"If someone asks, we'll say a coyote got it." There was a soft smile, lightly teasing as she nudged the girl toward the house.

Snickering, she glanced at her mother finally. "Ha. Ha." Rolling her eyes, she nodded and started for the house.

____________________________________

It wasn't as much of a nightmare as it was one of her least proud moments. She never wanted her mother to see her that way. Nor did she want to have her lust take control of her enough to chase down a deer like a damn animal.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open. Better than usual. Considering she wasn't coated in sweat and her heart wasn't pounding in her chest. A soft sigh left her lips as she noted the dim lighting in the room. Her head turned on the pillow, looking at the alarm clock.

2:37 AM.

Grumbling under her breath at the unnatural hour to wake up, she aggressively rolled over with a thud of limbs on the mattress. "Not yet," she groaned, but sadly was wide awake.

Most days were routine.

Wake up from a night terror. Relive the moments that had given her the night terror. Cold water from the sink. Trying to find something in the mirror. Wonder what she was looking for in the first place. Shower. Get ready. Try to hide the bags under her eyes. Try to distract herself from her life. Pretend to be human. Get hungry. Stare at the blood packs sitting in the fridge. Drink it. Hate herself for the next few hours. Apologize to her dead mother. More distractions. Finally, go to bed.

Rinse and repeat.

Her life had become a never ending re-run in black and white, with hardly any grey in the middle to liven it up. She'd often questioned why she even wanted to be human.

If humans live such boring and mundane lives, why do I want this so bad?

She didn't quite understand it, questioning herself on what's worse: boring and mundane or exciting and hunted. So far, she'd come up with no answers.

Ma went through too much effort to make sure I didn't end up in jail or dead. She uprooted her entire life, her career. We changed our looks, our names. She sacrificed too much for me to just give in now...

She'd have died in vain.

Sometimes... sometimes it still felt like she had. She'd spent so long trying to keep Devon away from being found, all the while keeping her away from the temptation of human blood. By the time Death came for her mother, she'd devoted the majority of her life to keeping Devon safe. And for what?

You can pretend to be human all you want, Dev. But you still broke your promise to her. A drug is a drug. You're no worse than those junkies in Detroit. Just what would you do to get that fix you crave so badly?

She tried not to think about what she'd do if it ever came to that point. But trying... doesn't always mean succeeding. When she wasn't having night terrors, she spent her nights staring up at her ceiling and re-evaluating her life.

Say Ronnie couldn't get you your fix. What if you run out and can't even reach him? What if that need grows too great to stop yourself? What would you do? Would you make that mistake again? Tear another kid's throat out?

And just like every time... Thinking about it... It only made the craving worse.

And she'd go right back to her fridge for that next fix.

"Why the long face, sugar?" Her neighbor, Leah, who was no more than a couple years short of 30, was checking her mail at the apartment mail slots.

Too caught up in the conversation had between her and Chloe, she hadn't even noticed the woman standing there. She blinked, her vision focusing on her. "Oh, shit. Leah. Sorry, I didn't see you there." She stammered, reaching to rake her fingers through her hair before she realized she'd been asked a question. "I'm sorry, what?"

A soft smile as fingers folded around the envelopes and she closed the mail slot, giving the key a turn before her body followed to face Dev. "You look distant, babe." Swirling her finger in a slow circle in her direction. "You've got some negative energy around you. What's going on?"

It hadn't taken Devon long to know the woman was strange, but she wasn't one to talk. The building always smelled of Dragon's Blood incense, and it always came from Leah.

"Uh... just..." She shook her head. She knew better than to involve others in her life by now. "Bad day."

The woman's lips pursed, one hip cocking out to the side as she seemed to quietly contemplate something. "Come on," tipping her head in the direction of the stairwell.

"Come on," a bit of a lilt in her tone suggested she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Can't have you spreading negative energy about this place. Besides, pouting isn't a good look for you." Her steps carried her up the first flight of stairs.

"I'm fine, I'll-..." Pausing as she saw Leah stop at the landing and look over her shoulder. The woman had the sassiest brows she'd ever known in her life. She didn't have to speak to portray her thoughts, nor did she have to give her any look other than a simple lift of brow to express herself. A sigh heaved from her lungs as she hung her head a bit. "I'm coming.." she murmured, heading sluggishly toward the stairs.

Two years.

Two years since she'd seen that girl that still had her heart pounding in her chest at the mere mention of the name.

They'd agreed to live their lives in the meantime, to see other people even if the one they truly wanted was... who knows how far away. They'd tried to move on a multitude of times, but that call was always made.

They always said I love you and they still held on.

No more.

She couldn't give Chloe that hope she was going to come back when even she didn't know if that was a possibility. She knew it wasn't the case, Chloe wasn't a lovesick puppy... but the idea of the one she loved waiting by the phone for that familiar and intoxicating phone call made her sick to her stomach.

There was a time in everybody's life that they had to make difficult decisions for the greater good. And in Dev's eyes, the greater good was the one she loved living happily and moving on from her.

To be honest, she didn't know if she would ever really get over that woman. She always knew the right things to say, she tolerated the Dhampyr's secrets and knew when to stop asking questions.

Chloe trusted Devon.

Even when it wasn't in her best interests. She did.

And Devon trusted her, which was also greatly important.

But sometimes, if you love something...

You must let it go.

And this time, Devon wouldn't be coming back.

Forgive me, Chloe.

She heard the tapping on her door, but she didn't care enough to answer it. He'd discover the door was unlocked eventually.

She was sitting in front of the upturned sofa, having cleaned up a good percentage of the mess around the apartment. She hadn't really felt much for cleaning, but it was something productive to waste time while she waited for Ronnie to show up with her shipment.

There was a bit more rapping of knuckles on the front door before he finally got the hint and tried the doorknob. It gave easily under his palm, swinging open when he gave it a light push. "Devon?" He called, only to fall short when he found her sitting on the floor with a distant look on her face. "Dev..." He sighed, entering the room and closing the door behind him. He'd passed on the hoodrat attire today, returned to his suit as he normally did on the rare times he'd made a home delivery to her.

"Hey, you still in there?" He snickered, trying to lean in her line of view and wave his hand in front of her to get her attention. After a flutter of lash and lid, she gave it to him.

"What?" She shook her head, as if shaking herself out of a fog. More blinking, she looked up at him as her vision focused on him. "Yeah... yeah, I'm here. Sorry."

He watched her for a moment in that lean before letting out a slow sigh, his chest deflating entirely before he switched the cooler in his hands. "If it fucked you up this bad, why'd you break it off with her?" He made it over to the couch and sat down on the cushions, leaning forward to set the cooler in her lap.

"I had to," a simple response as she looked down at the cooler on her lap. Her fingers barely touched the blue part of the cooler, silent as if in thought for a moment before she picked up the clip of money settled beside her legs. "Payment." She was being short with him, she knew that. But at this point, she was tired of talking. Her throat was hoarse from the times spent crying over love lost. She held the money clip out to him, the number on the dot like every other time.

He seemed hesitant on taking it. To him, they were a bit more than just business. He viewed them as friends, but understood that if Devon felt the same, he'd likely never hear from her again. She wouldn't allow it. Not if she wanted anything to do with him. And business didn't mean giving her a fix for free. Sighing, his fingers wrapped around the money clip and he slipped it into his pocket. "Do you want to talk about-"

"No," she deadpanned, cutting him off at the knees. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about her. You're my dealer, not my therapist. Let's keep it that way, Ronnie." There was a certain tone in her voice, that little bit of warning to not push it or she might just cut him off. She wasn't kidding around this time.

His hands raised after he'd tucked the money into the inside pocket of his jacket, as if in surrender to the lyrical gun she had pointed at him. "Alright, you've got it. I won't say a word about it."

Her eyes finally pulled away from where she'd been staring ahead at the shattered screen of the television. That was one mess she hadn't had the chance of cleaning up before she'd given up. "Good..."

And in the midst of everything rotten, he could've just left without another word. Instead, he leaned into the cushions of the couch, one leg crossing over the other. Fingers laced and settled on his lap.

She sighed under her breath. "You're not going to leave, are you?.."

"I have nowhere to be for the next couple hours."

She stared ahead for a moment before simply shaking her head and reached for the cooler in her lap.

Luckily, since the last time they'd met up, she'd managed to get her apartment fixed up from her momentary rampage that had left that shabby place in shambles. The television was replaced with a pristine new flat screen, the coffee table had been exchanged for a brand spankin' new mahogany one that was significantly more sturdy than the previous had been. She'd even said to hell with it and got herself some new furniture, including a new couch and some other smaller chairs for sitting in. She didn't know why, it wasn't like she ever got company.

But this time, it came in handy as she heard the familiar light rapping on her front door two hours after those texts were sent out. Instead of waiting for Ronnie to open the door, she moved to open it for him. She'd been nervous those two hours that passed almost dreadfully slow, twitchy as could be at the vague information of text sent to her that had her questioning who the mention of who she was.

Surely enough, those were answered when that front door swung open and the face that she knew all too well had her tipping her chin to the pristine man in a black and white suit, toting a woman behind him. "Ronnie... glad you made it," she murmured, her tone not sounding all that pleased or friendly. She wasn't trying to be rude, far from it, but new faces made the Dhampyr antsy.

"Good to see you again, Dev. And you're doing better," he noted, slipping through the doorway when Dev let them through. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. Devon, meet Haven Margeux. She's... an old friend," he muttered the last, stepping inside with a slight tilt of head as he assessed the new home improvements made. "Nice touch," he complimented.

The woman in question was slight in frame yet held curves in all the right places, dressed in black from nearly head to toe. Black leather jacket over a loose black tank top, black jeans that left hardly anything to the imagination. Knee high soft leather boots that had heels to shoot her from her normal height of 5'4 to 5'6. A wild mane of curly hair fell in a thick curtain to her shoulder blades and though her face held delicate roundness that would lead one to believe innocence or perhaps even sugary sweetness, her eyes held a touch of cold calculation. It was hard to tell if they were always that way, or merely the business-like situation. "Nice to meet you," said through pursed thick lips as she trailed after her associate. "Ronnie here explain the situation at all?" As if getting right down to business.

She'd stepped out of the way when they'd entered, pausing to take a full assessment of her own to the new face that had shown up with the old. "No, but I'm not surprised," she grumbled under her breath, closing the door when the two had made their way into the apartment. "Go ahead and take a seat, need anything to drink?"

"Rather just get down to business, Dev," came from Ronnie as he moved over to one of those new chairs and settling himself down into it. One leg crossed over the other, fingers clasping and resting leisurely on the thigh of the raised leg while elbows propped on the arms of the chair. "If that's alright with you."

Haven followed next, taking the chair on the other side of the room. Easing herself into the seat with a gentle creak from the leather jacket, she swung that leg over to mimic Ronnie's but didn't take as much of a business approach to her stature. She leaned on one armrest, her hand coming up to tuck a fist beneath a wide and angled jaw, her eyes seeming to assess Devon just as much as she'd been. "Getting down to business would be nice," she added in, glancing between the two.

"To business then," she sighed, trailing on after the visitors to nestle herself in the cushions on the couch between them. He hadn't said it was an intervention, but sitting between the two, it was starting to feel like one. "So, please. Before I lose my fucking mind, talk. What's going on?" She didn't look at Haven when she said it, instead was bearing her gaze on Ronnie, since he was someone she was much more familiar and comfortable talking to. Bringing a new face around, especially right to her home, dubbed an explanation.

His head bowed in a slow nod, glad the other two felt the same way. "Glad we're on the same page, then." A slow sigh left him as he looked Devon head on, glancing over to Haven for a moment. "I'm taking a leave of absence indefinitely. I have some... things... that need my attention elsewhere. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, Haven here is going to be taking care of your business from now on."

That cool gaze scanned between the two, waiting for that information to sink in. She didn't bother speaking, didn't raise a finger to aide in the explanation. She merely watched. She'd been told of Devon, her plight and had known Ronnie long enough that she'd offered to take over for however long the man was going to be gone. But the question would be if Devon would even accept it.

Her eyes looked between the two like she didn't quite believe it. After eyeing Haven for a moment, she turned her heady gaze on to Ronnie. "So, what? After years of dealing with you... you expected me to just be cool with being handed off like one of your kids to Grandma's house while you go on a business trip?" Her brows rose, not so much insulted as she found it laughable. "I don't need a fucking babysitter, Ronnie."

There was a twitch to the corner of his mouth, hinting at a smirk that he bit back with some own willpower. "Interesting analogy..." He glanced at Haven, wondering how she felt about being the metaphorical Grandma in this situation before drawing his eyes back to Devon. "I know you don't. But I may be gone for weeks... months. I don't know how long it'll be. You trying to tell me you can wait that long without a fix without losing your shit again?" His brows lifted as he couldn't quite believe that.

"Here's the deal, sugar." Finally speaking from her long moment of silence, giving a light wiggle of hips to re-adjust in the chair. Her head tilted to the side, letting that long mane fall over her arm. "You can either take my business or go without. I'm not here to be your... Grandma." She narrowed those cold eyes that a moment before had nearly been blank, like a flip of a switch. Only for them to return to being blank a moment later. "You think I won't pick my ass up out of this chair and walk if you don't like it? I'm not here to waste your time, so don't waste mine." She was a bottle of hot sauce, taken at your own risk and might leave a burn in your mouth for long after it's gone. But she knew what she was doing, and how to do it well.

Her brows furrowed at the mention of months or weeks, wondering what the hell could possibly have him gone for so long. She'd known him for years, and not once had a business trip come up that took this long before. But it was his business, not hers. He could've just picked up and left her in the dust, but he didn't. He was trying to make sure she had a way to get what she needed before he left. She appreciated the sentiment, and her negative mind was trying to already prepare for the fact that he may not come back. She swallowed that down, Haven's words bringing her attention over as she stared at her, seeing the switch in her eyes and wondering if she really wanted to deal with this woman.

"How do I know if I can trust you?" Trust was hard to come by from the Dhampyr, it had taken Ronnie at least three references and 2 years for her to trust him enough to even come to her home personally. But here he was, with some strange woman and she was now expected to Deal or No Deal with her.

"You don't. But from what I hear, you trust Ronnie. And I trust Ronnie. See, you're not the only one in this room with a few trust issues, sweetheart. I'll put a bullet between the eyes of a rat without a second thought, and I don't tolerate bull****. So, you going to tell me if I'm wasting my time here?" Her stare was heavy, bearing in deep as if scouring Devon's soul for any lick of reason to mistrust... or maybe even shoot.

She was quiet for a moment, as if considering her options. But then again... did she really have any? Go without for possibly months, or get my fix from Haven... If Ronnie trusts her, I should too. But... Those nagging thoughts of paranoia had her gritting her teeth, wanting to tell the woman to get the fuck out of her apartment and hit the road, Jack. But, "alright. Deal." Simple, to the point. "So, what? Should we exchange numbers?"

Ronnie had been sitting there, listening to the two converse and get their things straightened out. He didn't want to play information medium if he didn't to. And he wasn't going to be there soon enough to do so, so it was time to rip the band-aid off the wound.

She gave a short, firm nod of her head that bounced those curls. And the woman was clearly purely business as her palms slapped the armrests and she jolted to her feet suddenly. "Good, smart decision." She knew a junkie when she saw one, and not all drugs came in the form of things to smoke, snort or pop. "I'll get it from Ronnie. If we're done here, I'd like to move my ass on." Heeled boots started across the living room floor, not even pausing as she spoke over her shoulder. "Shipments will come at the same time, every two weeks. Same numbers as you give Ronnie, and if you need an emergency shipment then it's double." From her tone, there was no negotiations, take it or leave it. "I'll see you in the car, Ron."

Devon couldn't do a whole lot other than stare at the woman, the slight cold aggression that seemed to roll off her like steam as she was making her demands and venturing for the door. ".. I guess I can accept that," she muttered, but it was too late as she watched the woman walk out of the door, closing it with a soft click that she appreciated wasn't a slam. She blinked a couple times, staring at the door before pulling her gaze slowly over to Ronnie. Her brows lifted like this is what you're leaving me with?!

"I'll be out in a moment," to Haven before he looked to Devon, waiting for it. When all he got was that look, "oh don't give me that. She's good, and good at what she does. She'll take care of what you need while I'm gone." He reassured as much as he could, but wasn't sure if the girl on the couch would even listen.

She was like a child that had been told an ultimatum with neither of the options being good. But there was a question that kept nagging at her, bubbling up her throat and finally vomiting out of her mouth. "You're coming back, right?..." She couldn't look at him when she asked, feeling like someone who's Dad was saying he going out for a pack of smokes but was probably going to ditch out and run.

His brows furrowed, as if he couldn't quite understand. "What do you mean if I'm coming back? This is my home, Dev. Besides, if I was going to bail on you, I'd tell you. We've been at this shit for too long not to be upfront." His legs uncrossed from each other, leaning forward with his hands still clasped to rest his elbows on his knees. His brows lifted, chin tucking down some to give her a look.

"Hey, look at me," it wasn't a request, but a demand. Devon didn't like it much, but she did. Her gaze slowly scanned the room until it fell on someone she refused to call a friend. Because calling him a friend would be the end of it.

"What?"

"I'm coming back, Dev. I promise. That might not mean shit to you, but you should know I keep my word." His head nodded sternly to her before he glanced over to the door with a gushing sigh. "I need to get out there before she hot-wires my car and takes off with it," he snickered, pushing himself to his feet. He turned his eyes onto the Dhampyr once more. "I'll hand off your number to her, she'll text you so you have it. And I'll keep in touch and update you on when I'll be back."

She didn't like the situation much, it was plainly written on her face. But she couldn't do much to disagree. He'd gone through the trouble of taking care of her, which he didn't really need to. "Alright, Ronnie.." It was all she could say. She tipped her chin toward the door, as if to tell him to get his ass out. "Before she steals your ride," a mumble as she settled back into the cushions, and hopefully wipe the pit of paranoia and anxiety from the visiting stranger out of her belly.

He sighed, nodding slowly before he made his retreat out of the door.

It was a strange day when it was her phone's buzzing that woke her instead of a breath quaking nightmare. But as promised, it was the third day and early afternoon when incessant vibrations had the pillow beneath her head rising her.

"What the hell..." she muttered, having nearly forgotten of their deal in her sleep driven state. "Shut up, shut up, shut up," she groaned to the phone as it kept going off under the pillow. That inked hand slid sharply under the pillow, grasping the device and tugging it out as squinted eyes peered at who'd sent it. Reflexively, she clicked the Read button.

Text From Safe Haven:
Text From Safe Haven: Remember, sug. Dusk. Don't be late.

The irritation of being woken by her phone vanished as quickly as it came, squinted eyes focused the blur in her vision to not only read the texts but the time on her phone.

"3 PM already? Shit." It was a rare instance that she slept through the night, nevermind sleeping until late afternoon. A steady night of heavy drinking must have knocked her out cold and kept her from being battered by her subconscious. She'd take her blessings when they were dealt to her, though.

That didn't change the fact that she only had a few hours until dusk, and she wasn't willing to test her new dealer's patience. Last thing she needed was for her to ditch out on her like Ronnie had. The blankets were tore from her sprawled frame, flipped to the other side of the bed as she all but scrambled out of it. She left the phone behind on the sheets as her hands swiped at her face to force away the sleep and bedhead hair drifting into her eyes.

Her (not so)morning routine began as it always did, but she left out the re-evaluating life choices in the mirror bit.

With her hand tucked into the pocket of the loose zip-up hoodie, her hand clutching tight to the roll of money as she made her ascent up the steps. The front door to the building had been unlocked, and it almost seemed as if the entire building was vacant. Devon half expected there to be tumbleweeds blowing in the distance, the whole street was silent without another car or anyone on the sidewalks. There was hardly a light on in any of the buildings, and it looked like a damn ghost town.

Seriously, what the hell kind of place are you having me meet you, Haven?

By the time she made it to Apartment 8B, she'd pulled her hood up and had looked over her shoulder nearly every ten seconds expecting someone to come out from the shadows to grab her. The whole place looked like hobo heaven and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight, that chilling feel of eyes on her back with every step taken.

Now, standing in front of the door, she didn't really want to knock. As quiet as the building was, she knew even the lightest rapping of knuckles would echo down the hall and the stairwell. But in case this was actually Haven's place, she didn't want to intrude without knocking. Standing there, her cheeks puffed with the sharp exhale of air released from her lungs as she rocked from toes to heel. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, squeezing one eye shut as her knuckles came up to knock oh so lightly on the wooden door. Even the soft sound was loud to the dhampyr, and she winced at it in the silence.

The door creaked open by the time she lowered her knuckles and crammed them in her pocket, that woman standing in the threshold almost looking identical to how she'd shown up to Devon's apartment those few days ago. Black from nearly head to toe, splashes of leather with certain articles of clothing like her boots and jacket. Black jeans, black shirt. Her wild mane of hair was forced back into an elastic, flattened to her cranium as those narrowed eyes seemed to bear into the dhampyr's soul.

"Haven," said with a nod, it was somewhat of a greet.

"Well, come in." It wasn't so much of a request as it was a demand, standing there no longer as she turned away from the girl and started back toward the center of the room.

"I wouldn't suppose you're going to tell me to take off my boots," she snickered sarcastically, trailing through the doorway with a suspicious glance around the room. Her hand came out of the pocket to close the door behind her. It looked... well, close to abandoned. There was minimal furniture, all looking like it was from a thrift shop or junkyard. A ratty table that didn't look all that stable, two chairs sitting adjacent from the other at the table. There wasn't much else for comfortable furniture, not trusting the look of the dusty couch sitting against the far wall. "Nice... place...?" she muttered, questioningly as she arched a narrow brow at the woman.

"It works for business," she said simply, moving over to the table and didn't take a seat but a lean against it. It creaked behind the woman's weight but she didn't seem fearful of it breaking on her as there was a soft thud of it hitting the wall.

"Yeah, I bet. Nothing says a business deal like a sketchy abandoned apartment or a ghost town street," she scoffed, making it to the center of the room. She stood there uncomfortably, taking in the stare of Haven as she rocked on her heels. She was a bit twitchy under that stare, only because she didn't trust this woman for squat. Ronnie might, but Devon didn't know her from a hole in the ground.

"You can call it sketchy, but it's possibly one of the safest places on this end of town," she noted, her head tilting slightly. Squinting as her arms rose to cross over her chest. "I promised you a Safe Haven, and here it is. I've got people watching this entire block, and not one of 'em are afraid to pull a trigger. No one comes into this building without my say. So relax, Avery."

"I thought Safe Haven was some gimmick of yours," she snickered. "Like some play on your name or whate-..." She trailed off, her blue-green gaze snapping onto and locking to the woman in black. She stared, and stared hard. "What the fuck did you just call me?" Her raspy tone came out far harsher than she'd intended, but that mention of her name had her not caring a bit.

"Avery. That's your name, isn't it? Your real name." She wasn't questioning, just waiting for confirmation. As if she already knew the answer well, but was waiting for Devon's admittance.

"How the fuck would you know that?" She spat, her tone and tongue laced with toxin as she all but snarled at the woman. "Even Ronnie doesn't know that fucking name."

There was a twitch to the corner of her mouth, the slightest tug that threatened at a smile but it didn't present itself just yet. Her steely gaze was locked fast to the dhampyr. "I don't take any clients off the street. Ronnie came to me out of a favor. I wanted to know why you seemed oh so important to him. He doesn't care enough to fix up his clients with a new dealer when business presents itself. So the fact he did for you.." She let her voice trailed off, her head tilting slightly to the side as she eyed her up and down. It wasn't condescending at least. But it didn't put Devon at ease any.

"So, what?... You got my file or some shit? What does it matter. Like you said, pay is pay." There was a twitch to the muscle in her jaw as she forced herself not to grit her teeth. With the tension rising in her shoulders, she'd possibly break a tooth if she let her jaw tense the same way.

"I got what I needed," she said plainly. "You can get angry with me all you want, Avery.."

"Devon," she corrected, almost snarling the name. "Avery's dead. She died a long time ago."

A soft sigh was relinquished from the woman as she gave the dhampyr a look. "Devon. I have to say, I'm quite impressed. I don't know exactly who your mother knew, but she went all out on ensuring your safety."

"Don't fucking talk about my mother. You don't know her," she narrowed her eyes, feeling the anger bubble to the surface even as she forced herself to swallow it down. "We're here to do a deal, not talk about our pasts. You claim to be Safe Haven, well I'm not fucking convinced. Either we get down to business, or I walk and find someone else." She sounded more confident in that than she felt. Sure, she could find someone else to deal her blood, but could she trust them? No.

Ronnie, who the fuck did you leave me with?

"I ain't here to heckle, Dev." She raised her hands as if in surrender. "Just making it clear from the start. I already know everything there is to know on file about you, Devon Blight. You can brush me off like you did with Ronnie, or we get to the straight talk." Her arms returned to their position of crossing over her chest. "You want to hide what you are, fine-.."

"You don't know jack shit about what I am," she countered. She was dangling on the edge of a glare, her fists balled at her sides as if she wanted to swing at any moment. "Fuck this. Fuck you. You don't know me, and I'm not going to sit around and be told my own fucking life story by some chick who thinks she's the FBI." She turned on a heel, starting for the door.

"Not FBI, sug," she started, watching the reaction with nearly a blank expression. "But running from everyone that knows a little bit about you isn't going to solve your damn problem. I was curious as to why Ronnie would get so attached to one of his clients. After reading up on you, I could see why."

She paused at the door, her hand out to reach for the knob but her fingertips barely touched the rusted tetanus infested knob. "Ronnie doesn't know shit about my past," she growled.

"Which only makes it all the curiouser. You walk out that door, Devon Blight. And I can guarantee you won't find another dealer at my price, or my know-how. You'll probably get damn kool-aid in a blood bag. So cut the bull**** with your running, turn the fuck around, and let's make a deal."

She could hear the scoot of the table when the pressure of weight was released on the wood, her brows furrowing at the strange woman. Who the fuck is this chick? So far, Devon didn't like her. But she was right. She didn't trust another dealer to not bring her tainted or diluted blood, and not without paying an arm and a leg. "Fuck," she cursed, snarling the word as she slowly turned around. "We deal, then I'm leaving. No more fucking talking." Those were her terms, take it or leave it.

"That works just fine for me, darlin'. I've already got everything I need to know," her back was turned to the dhampyr, fiddling with something on the table in front of her.

"You don't know anything about me," she muttered, not believing that person could be known by information on a piece of paper. She slowly approached to the center of the room again, pulling the wad of cash from her pocket.

"If that's what helps you sleep at night," she sighed, turning around finally with a red cooler in her hand. "It's all here. If you're smart, you'll meet me here in two weeks for your next shipment." There was a look in her eyes, a challenge before it was gone and a smile like honey replaced the previous cold expression as she made it to the center of the room to meet the dhampyr half way.

Her jaw tensed as she made it to Haven, staring at her and possibly imagining decking her in the nose. Or the mouth. She wanted to wipe that smile off her face, and she didn't know what it was about her that got under her skin so much, and so quick. "We'll see," was all she said, holding out the roll of cash and holding out the other hand for the cooler.

Haven said nothing more, just ticked her brows up with a slight tilt of her head. She put the cooler in the dhampyr's hand, retrieving the cash with the other before shoving it into the pocket of the leather jacket. "Good doing business with you, Dev." Her tone was flat, cold to the touch and it was enough to send shivers down Devon's spine.

"Wish I could say the same," her expression just as flat as hers, but there was a coldness in Haven's eyes that Devon couldn't mimic if she tried. "You're not going to count it?" Lifting her chin to indicate the wad of dough that had disappeared into the woman's jacket.

"Do I need to?" She countered, brows arching ever higher as she gave her a look that held danger and warning all over it with neon yellow tape.

Swallowing hard, the dhampyr shook her head. "... No. It's all there." She didn't think she could stiff the woman if she tried, not with that fucking look.

A firm nod followed, as well as a dismissing wave of her hand. "Deal's done. You can leave now. I've got shit to do, darlin'." The terms of endearment contrasted with the cold look given, just like everything about the woman. Hot and cold.

"Don't gotta tell me twice," she scowled, turning on a heel and made a quick departure. Once in her car, she nearly floored it away from that street.

"I need a fucking drink," she growled, glancing to the cooler in the passenger seat. But it wasn't the kind of drink she needed at the moment.