To Bleed for Him

"Pounding, it starts again.
Hurting, oh, where do I begin?
Screaming, they dance around my head.
Hoping, they'll maybe end up dead.

Feeling it grab hold, what can I say?
Really fucked up again. (I gotta do this right.)
I can't fucking give in. (I feel that I can fight.)
Can't I ever win? (I'll keep it on my mind.)
Here it comes again!"
- KoRn

Antony sat bolt upright in his bed, his own terrified gasp startling him in the stillness of the room. If he needed breath, he would have been panting for it, but as it were, he just stared silently into the darkness. It was like light to him these days, the darkness — soothing, comforting, safe. He had no reason to fear it now. There was no big-bad lurking in the shadows, waiting to snatch him up in the middle of the night. He was the big-bad.

But is that a good thing? he wondered, the broken images of his nightmare flashing through his mind, dancing through the darkness in front of his eyes — Torryn, bleeding out in his arms; his own face in the mirror, grinning at what he'd done; his blood-covered hands, shaking in not terror but pure elation. He had the power to do what he wanted, to take what he wanted — but was it a good thing?

In an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts and from the slight trembling of his hands, he glanced toward the clock on his bedside table, the numbers glowing at him through the near-impenetrable darkness: 3:53 pm. He had hours still before he needed to get out of bed.

I wonder where she is, he thought to himself. I wonder if she's gotten herself eaten yet. It was meant as a joke, but even he didn't think he was very funny. She'd always had problems not getting eaten. Why had he let her out of the house by herself, again?

There was a sudden knock at his door, soft and tentative, but it opened a crack before he'd even opened his mouth to utter a grumpy "Fuck off." "I thought I heard you moving around in here," an unfamiliar girl said quietly, her body only partially blocking the light as she opened the door wider and stepped inside, and he had to shield his eyes against the glare from the hall light. Light — the enemy.

"And who the hell are you?" he grumbled, trying to peer at her around his hand and failing.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with a girlish giggle, pushing the door shut behind her with a soft click. He could focus on her now, and he lowered his arm to take her in. Tall, olive-skinned, not slender like the women he used to shamelessly chase but plenty pretty in spite of — or perhaps because of — it. She was a human, though, a human who stank of vampire from clear across the room, and he'd never seen her before in his life. He would've remembered a smile like that. He was sure of it. "I guess I should've introduced myself before I came in. I'm Alexis."

"And…?" He wasn't in the mood for this. Not even a little bit. It didn't matter how attractive she was.

Her smile never faltered, no matter how nastily he eyed her, no matter how much fang he bared with his sneer, and his distrust of her skyrocketed. "I was told that you might be in need of my assistance."

"And who, may I ask, fed you that steaming pile of bullshit?" he asked sardonically, looking her up and down appraisingly. "And what in God's name would I need assistance with?"

"Would you mind if I turned the lights on?" she asked, her tone just as calm and cutesy as before. "I can't see a thing."

"Yes," he snapped, "I would mind. Now either tell me why you're here, or kindly get the fuck out."

"I told you why I'm here," she laughed, taking a cautious step deeper into the darkness. "I was brought here to help you."

"Help me with what?" he asked slowly, harshly, and he glared daggers at her though she couldn't see him.

"Everything," she answered with a shrug. "Anything. I'm well-versed in the ways of the vampire, you know. People hire me for a reason."

"Who hired you?" They were going in circles, and he was long past being fed up with it.

"Someone who wants to remain nameless — an anonymous benefactor, if you will." She perched herself carefully on the edge of the bed, barely jostling it even as she situated herself more comfortably. Her white teeth nearly glowed at him as she smiled. "I was told that you've been having some trouble with your new station in life."

"I'm not," he said flatly, his glare hardening further. Why wouldn't she just leave? "Now get out before you piss me off."

She blinked demurely at him through the darkness. "So you're not having trouble keeping your underlings in line? You haven't already had to fight vampires attempting to overthrow you? Everyone in your little coven adores and respects you and obeys you without question?"

His lips tightened into a thin line, anger and shame lancing through him simultaneously. How did she know all of this? "Well-versed in the ways of the vampire," she'd said. What the hell did that even mean? "That's none of your business. And even if it's true, it's nothing you can help me with."

"Maybe not completely," she started, and his distrust grew as a seductive edge seeped into her smile, "but I can help to get you moving in the right direction." Slowly, she leaned across the bed, and he became painfully aware of just how low-cut her brown top was. "For instance, I hear you've been having some problems with your Progeny as of late."

He felt his face empty of emotion, a feeling of defensiveness overwhelming him until he could barely control his own features. "She's not my Progeny," he said in something of a monotone. "Her name is Torryn, and she's my girlfriend, who just happens to be half-Progeny. If you intend to say anything negative about her or act negatively toward her, I suggest you run, and run fast."

She chuckled lowly. "Oh, no. I have nothing negative to say about her, and I have no reason to treat her with anything less than respect and compassion. I don't know the girl; she could be amazing for all I know." She eyed him through the darkness, squinting to see the set of his jaw, and her smirk became something more sweet, a smile more gentle and genuine than before. "Honestly, if someone like you has chosen her, she just has to be something special." Her expression quickly returned to its previous lustiness, and she went on as if she'd never broken character — and that's just what this was, he knew: a character. "I've heard that you've been refusing to feed outside of her, that you've been entirely refusing to sate yourself in any way without her, and it's…" She paused, her gaze drifting as she searched for the word. Her eyes darted back to him suddenly, and she finished decisively, "Worrisome, to say the least."

"Torryn and I have an understanding," he said stoically. "She doesn't want me satisfying myself with other women, and I honestly don't want to sate myself outside of her. Why is everyone treating this like it's such a huge problem?"

"Because a master vampire needs more than what one body can provide," she said sharply, eyes narrowed and filled with the icy fire of rebuke. "If you want to take and maintain control of the empire your father left behind, you're going to need more than just one girl, and you're certainly going to need something more than a Progeny eventually."

He gritted his teeth and glared at her. He could've thrown her out, could've killed her, could've beaten her within an inch of her life and sent her away, but it wasn't her he was mad at — it was how right she was. He'd watched his father for years — more than enough time to figure out that many meals and many mates weren't luxuries but the very barest of necessities.

But he didn't want to be his father. He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't become that monster, and he'd made a silent promise to Torryn. His father had tortured her, terrorized her endlessly, sent her off to be raped and beaten and drained dry by some faceless undead with wallets just fat enough to keep him content.

No, he would never be his father. Never.

"It's for her sake as much as yours," she added softly, almost as if reading his mind, and he felt his whole body tense. "If you can't protect yourself, how can you ever hope to protect her?"

His jaw clenched, and he sent his appraising glare across her face once more. He didn't know this girl, he didn't trust her one bit, but what she said…

Was he really going to agree with her? Was he really going to go along with what she said? Did he really, honestly believe that she was right?

He took the blanket at his waist in a tight grip, and his jaw clenched tighter.

Yes.

-?-

Torryn stared through the front window of the McDonald's lobby, watching the patrons move about without really seeing them. She'd been planning to back out of her parking spot for the past ten minutes, but she hadn't even started the car yet. Her mind was racing, her heart alternately hammering in her chest and slowing to a horrified crawl. How could Skylar do this to her? How could he start making her love him all over again like this? Hadn't he just been implying that he was only after friendship? Where had all of this come from?!

Fucking bastard, she thought, giving the steering wheel an aggravated smack. Things had just started to go well, too! But she knew that things hadn't been going well with them for a long time. Everything had gone to hell when she'd gone off and stupidly cheated on him, and nothing would ever rectify that — except maybe getting back together with him.

Her palm found her forehead with a thwack, and the sharp slap of skin-on-skin contact resounded throughout the small car. No, she scolded herself. No! Bad Torryn! She'd just gotten settled in with Antony, just gotten her life semi-on-track after having it turned upside down once. Why did she want to go and uproot herself again? And, more importantly, why did she want to break another boy's heart?

She didn't. And that's why she never would.

"Easier said than done," she grumbled, her forehead falling to rest on the steering wheel with a thump. God, she was a terrible person. How had she managed to get one amazing man on her tail, let alone two?

She jumped at the sound of her phone ringing, the familiar lyrics of an Art of Dying song ringing out in the silence. She had to contort her body in the most uncomfortable way to fish it out of her pocket, but she somehow managed to get it out in the open before the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" she said quickly, almost before she even had the phone to her ear. She hadn't even taken the time to see who it was.

"Torryn?" her mother's voice filtered through, and the edge of fear to it had Torryn's shoulders tensing instantly.

"Mom? What's wrong?" Her mother's breath came through in a gasp, and the sound of shattering glass forced Torryn straighter in her seat. "Mom? What's happening?"

"I…I made a mistake," the woman stammered, and Torryn could almost hear her swallow through the phone. "I thought it would be a good idea to try…but…" She trailed off, the horrible snapping of breaking wood quickly filling the resulting silence. "They found me, Torryn," she said, her voice raised to be heard over the shouts and thumps and chaos in the background. "I need your help!"

"Mom!" But the line had already gone dead, and Torryn didn't have the time to ask anymore questions, anyway. She threw the phone onto the passenger's seat and started the car, throwing it into reverse and slamming a foot down on the gas pedal without taking the time to look behind her. A horn sounded, then another, a cacophony of discordant bleating, but it didn't phase her one bit. There would never be a more horrible sound than the one she'd just heard.

There would never be a more horrible sound than her mother asking for her help.

-?-

"What are you suggesting, then?" Antony asked, sliding from beneath the covers to stand beside the bed. He watched the girl — Alexis, she called herself — strain to watch him through the darkness, likely unable to see much more than the shadowy outline of his figure, and it comforted him somehow, gave him more power. He may have been the big-bad these days, but something about this girl and her ilk set him on edge. "That I —"

"Feed from me," she interrupted, smiling, "yes."

"And why would you let me do that?" he asked, crossing the room to his dresser and tugging a drawer open. If this was going to happen, he certainly didn't want it to happen while he was lying in bed in his boxers. What if someone walked in? What would they think? But he wasn't seriously going to let this happen…was he? He clenched his jaw, staring at the drawer full of jeans. Yes.

The girl chuckled lowly, and he heard the bed creak as she shifted. "What? Do you think I'm afraid that you'll eat me or something? I already told you — I'm well-versed in the ways of the vampire. You're not the type to go for the kill."

He turned to look at her with a pair of jeans in his hands, finding her reclining on Torryn's pillow and wearing a smile that was almost smug. "And what will you get in return for your…services?"

"Besides the thrill of the bite, you mean?" she asked, and his mood soured further. Humans, playing with the influence of vampire saliva like it wouldn't get them killed. Disgusting. "Money, maybe," she went on when he didn't reply. "A place to stay. Whatever I decide on that my employer is willing to give."

"So you don't even bother to make a deal before you rush in to your death?" he asked bitterly, turning from her and working on pulling his jeans on. "You're not a very good businesswoman, are you?"

She laughed, and the good-natured tone of it surprised him. "It's a dangerous job. Why bother making plans and getting paid up front when you might end up dead, anyway?"

He thought it'd be the other way around, but he decided to let it go. She didn't seem sensible enough to warrant further conversation. "Is that all you're here for, then?" he asked, zipping and buttoning his pants deftly. "Your only use is to feed me and then be on your merry way?"

She sat up to eye him, her expression growing serious. "Well, really, what else can I do for you? I have advice to offer you, an ear to lend you, but all of that comes free of charge. Anyone could give you that."

He paused with his hand on a drawer handle, glancing at her over his shoulder. "What advice do you have to give me?"

"After you feed," she said with a soft laugh, falling back to lie across Torryn's pillow. "It'll give you a reason to keep me alive."

"Well, give me a little teaser," he said, pulling the drawer open and fishing out a navy-blue T-shirt. "Just so I know that leaving you alive will be worth it." She was silent for a moment, a moment long enough to give him time to tug his shirt on and turn to look at her. She was frowning.

"Leave her," she said softly, finally, when her eyes found his. "Leave the Progeny and find yourself an undead to settle down with. It'll be better for the both of you."

He turned from her, gripping the drawer handle tightly, his knuckles turning bone-white in the darkness. His jaw cracked as he clenched it, pain shooting through his skull though he barely noticed it.

He hated her now. Really, truly hated her. He hated her because she was right — so painfully fucking right.

He hated her — so shouldn't he have sent her away by now? Shouldn't he have stopped listening to her words and rid himself of her presence?

No.

She was right. And it was about time that he started listening to someone who was right.

-?-

I should call someone, shouldn't I? Torryn thought nervously as she started down her mother's street — the street of the house she'd lived in all through her childhood. Antony? Or Skylar? But what good would calling Antony do? He couldn't come out in the daylight. And Skylar…Skylar would only make her realize her own weakness. Skylar would only try to make her fall for him harder.

No, she was on her own this time.

But what if there are vampires? Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. It won't matter. I can do this. I can handle whatever they throw at me. I have to.

The house came into view after a long, agonizing moment, and she nearly flipped the car, pulling into the driveway at full speed and braking only at the last possible moment. There were no other cars here, she noticed as she threw the car in park, turned it off, and tore the seatbelt from across her chest. The front door was hanging open, the broken doorknob dangling uselessly from its hole in the wood, but there were no other cars in sight. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

She stepped out of the car and closed the door as quietly as she could, then tiptoed across the driveway and up the stairs to the front porch. She strained her ears to hear any signs of a commotion, but…nothing. There was nothing.

What the hell was going on?

"Mom?" she called as she stepped over the threshold and into the house. The living room was intact, surprisingly enough, but for the broken door frame that she'd just past through and the splinters of wood that covered the carpet. "Mom? Are you here?" Panic stabbed through her as the silence seemed to grow louder. What if they were already gone? What if they'd taken her mother? What if they'd already killed her?

No, she told herself, starting up the stairs. No, that just can't be. She wouldn't let it. She couldn't let it.

"Mom?" she yelled again, more tentatively this time, as she peeked around the corner at the top of the stairs. She saw no one in the hallway, but the floor was littered with more splinters of wood at the very end of it — right in front of the door to her old bedroom. Her heart began to race, and she swallowed before letting out another careful call of, "Mom?"

She tried to tiptoe down the hall, but no matter how quietly she tried to step, the creaky floorboards screamed at her through the deafening silence. Of course, she had no idea why she was even bothering to try to be quiet. It was obvious that no one was here, and even if they were, her shouts had already given her away. Why had I done that, anyway? she groaned inwardly, her hand trailing along the cool paint of the wall. I'm as good as dead now.

A cool breeze tickled her skin as she stepped in front of her wide-open doorway, the door hanging from its hinges in odd, jagged chunks of wood. The window across from her was shattered, the curtains torn from their brackets and strewn in tatters across the floor, and at the foot of it —

"Mom!" she cried, starting forward into the debris-strewn space. It was empty but for the furniture, all of her belongs long gone, and her mother lying bruised and bloody beneath the window pane. Was she okay? Was she alive? Torryn couldn't see her breathing.

But before she had the chance to check, before she even had the chance to kneel at the woman's side, she was caught up in the tight grip of someone — someone reeking of musk and ashes. Vampire. The realization had barely entered Torryn's mind when she began to struggle, kicking and flailing like there was no tomorrow — and there might not be, depending on how many of these sons of bitches she was up against.

The man dropped her when she managed to nail him in the manbits, and she fell to her knees on the floor, beginning to scamper away the second her hands found purchase on the hardwood. She spun to face him — no, them. Half a dozen of them, standing in a semicircle around her, four men and two women. But they were all standing in front of the window, in full view of the afternoon sun. Living vampires? But why living vampires? What did they want with her? What did they want with her Goddamn mother?

"Relax," the man who'd taken hold of her said, smirking down at her and recovering beautifully from that blow to the balls he'd taken only seconds ago. "We're not here to hurt you. We're just here to talk."

Yeah, sure. That's why he'd grabbed her. That's why her mother lay half-dead on the floor.

Panic boiled into anger, anger into blind rage, and she was on her feet before she even knew what she was doing. "Bullshit," she snarled, lunging at the foremost man, the one who smirked down at her with infuriating cool. "Bull-fucking-shit!"