Red Velvet

It was late in the evening when I got home.

Mom had a late night shift at the hospital. Another dinner alone for me. God, I missed Riley. Since she'd gone off to College, nights had become lonely and boring. There was no amount of Ben&Jerry's that made my sister's absence lessen. Although we were nearly three years apart, Riley had been my first friend. The greatest. Fitting all the big sister requirements. Taught me all I knew about boys before I'd wanted to learn.

I wondered what she'd say to me seeing a Vampire.

Shaking off thoughts of my sis and Daimon—those tended to end in a mess—I marched for the kitchen. The soft browns of the counters and beige walls cozied me up.

Getting a bowl, I poured milk, eggs and salt beating the yellow mix with a fork, putting all my anger against Charlotte to good use. Her presentation had been perfect. The kind that made you want to throw yours in a trash can and run home—or beg to present another day.

Funny thing was, Charlotte's little brain wasn't smart enough to pull it off. I'd known her since kindergarten. Someone had done it for her. Some poor loser who believed she'd go out with him if he played her little-minion.

Once the eggs were in the frying pan, I turned up the heat and leaned on the table. That little... Taking a big breath, I moved around the scrambled eggs not wanting to burn dinner over Charlotte. Adding bacon, I grabbed a glass filling it with water and sat at the table, eating alone.

It wasn't until I put away the dirty dishes, switched off the kitchen and hall lights, that I curled on the couch flipping through channels. Between reruns of Castle and Grey's Anatomy I couldn't pick.

"Well," I threw my head back. "This is a bust." I shut off the TV with a huff, throwing the remote aside.

There was a rap on glass. My hair flew off to one side as I whirled. I pursed my lips, hoping it didn't happen again. Knowing Daimon, what he was, was finally hitting me full force. It was a screech, a nail dragging across a window. It was coming from the window to the left of the couch. The one I was so mystified eying.

The curtain was only half drawn. I could feel my heart busting one pound after another, waiting for a break in. A shadow moved outside. I stopped crawling over the couch, breath heaving out of burning lungs.

Biting my lip, I up and left the small comfort the sofa provided, easing toward the window. A sheen of sweat built between my shoulder blades once I managed to peel the drape...

A loud knock jumped me, causing an even louder sounding yelp from me.

Letting the curtain fall back, I walked with careful steps into the small hall, curling my hand around the knob.

"Boo,"

Hand covering my heart, I snapped around, pretty sure if I was twenty years older I would've had a seizure.

"Damn you," I cursed.

A not so stranger face smirked at me. Although, with Daimon hanging upside down—yes, the bastard could walk on the ceiling—it looked like a psychotic frown.

"You're too easily scared." He said, and in a fluent flip, he was standing beside me. The smirk now conveyed the usual humans-are-below-me mark.

"If you're not happy with me, you might as well find some other poor girl to terrorize and blackmail into being your personal blood bank."

"Aren't we feisty this evening?" Daimon reached forward, twirling a piece of blond hair.

"Who gave you the right to barge in here? My mom could've been home—"

"But she's not."

I slit my eyes, not wanting to know how he knew her schedule.

"That's not the point, Daimon. It's my house. You can't simply barge in whenever you feel like it." I snatched my hair from his reach, leaving him to stare with a mild amused glare.

Daimon stepped closer, my eyes drove up to his. Amethysts mocked me openly, "Oh, but I can. You invited me in, remember? There's no taking that back, my sweet."

Yes, well, I'd been threatened. Again. Two weeks ago, Daimon had popped up outside. He'd been pulling off another Spider-man stunt, standing outside my bedroom window, on the wall. He didn't leave until I invited him in, saying he'd throw a feast with every last person I'd ever talked to.

That night, he'd drunk my blood so heavily, I passed out. Next day, I'd slept in and missed class.

Just one more reason why I hated him.

"How did you even get in, lurker?" I side-stepped him, dying to put more than inches between us.

He nodded to the kitchen, "Back door. Which, by the way, you should learn how to lock." I sunk on the couch.

Arcata might be in California, but in no way were we a city like San Francisco. No. Arcata was a very safe, family-friendly and wholesome town. Until a Vampire decided to come along and turn it into his playground. Fortunately for the town folk and college kids, he'd found me. Who apparently struck his fancy.

Too bad for me.

"Locking the door won't keep out the actual danger."

Daimon dropped his leather jacket on a chair, before sitting on the opposite end of the couch. He crossed a leg, looking my way.

"Your words are like stakes, Scarlett. You kill me each time you speak, each time slower and deathlier."

I made sure to put a pillow in our middle.

"Spare me the poetics. If you ever scare me like that again, I'll actually learn how to whittle and stake you." That earned me a jovial laugh. I didn't appreciate it. Even if the lines of his face softened, making him more human and less gelid.

"Not in a hundred years would you be able to stake me." His arm stretched out over the couch. I felt his fingers find their way among my hair, brushing my scalp. "Now, lighten up."

"Scaring people isn't fun, Daimon."

The little massage his fingers had began, stopped. He let out a frustrated breath.

"All I did was knock! If you hadn't taken so long, I wouldn't have let myself in."

All he'd done was knock?

"Don't lie," I grabbed the brown pillow in an angry fit. "You were outside—I heard screeches. You dragged something across the window." I pointed behind him.

Twisting his neck, Daimon followed my pointing finger. His attention lingered for a second—max—before facing me, up close. Breath, cool as a winter's midnight, danced across my lips. Skin tingled under Daimon's thumb and forefinger, he kept tilting my chin—our eyes met.

"I can assure you, Scarlett, you're safe from any Peeping Tom." Dancing under my chin, trailing the hollow of my throat, his fingers inspired a hotness within. "Your danger... is already inside."

The softest sound left me as Daimon's plush lips kissed under my left ear. Another hand crawled up my leg, curling on my hip—tugging me closer, straight into his lap. Daimon's thigh ended between my legs, pressing into...

He made an appreciative noise, moving his lips down, along the arch of my neck. Daimon jerked his leg—the one between mine—and my hands landed on his arms, holding on. Hard. Cupping the back of my head, he pulled back slightly. Blue lavender eyes, framed by thick sooty lashes, ravished my honey ones.

"Is your mother coming home tonight?"

My brain was working another direction while Daimon gazed deep into me, my fingers were curled on his bare arms, feeling the hardness of his muscles inch by inch.

"Scarlett," he called firmly. "Answer me."

"I... No. Not tonight."

A brilliant smile overcame him. I blinked. It was a tad worrying. That smile. It was so pretty and flashy, but also so... dangerous. Something wasn't right, I knew it when Daimon's pupils dilated and changed color, dipping into a dark shade. There was no white left.

"I want something different tonight, princess. Something I haven't indulged in, in a long while—because of you. Well, because I gave my word I wouldn't feed on any townspeople as long as I had you to keep me entertained."

"That's not exactly our deal..."

"Hush," he commanded, deeply, softly. I kept trying to look away, but his eyes, something inside them kept me in place. "I want to do more than feed."

My brain raced in all possible directions. His smile widened.

"No, not that." He said as if he'd read my mind. Probably had. "I want to hunt."

I stared at him with a gaping mouth.

"But..."

"Before I feed," he began and something strong shut me up. "I want you to run. I want you to feel afraid, to run away from me—"

Words sunk in, burying themselves deep within my brain and a cloak of anxiety settled all over my shoulders, heart and... and fear began to sprout. Much more fear than I'd ever felt since meeting Daimon, since I'd found out about his secret.

His eyes closed and once they flickered open, they were normal. I wasn't—whatever he'd done was still taking effect.

The sight of four fangs easing out of his gums tore a scream from me. I bolted from the couch—he let me—and I ran. Heart pounding in my ears, I ran, stumbling outside the living room, gunning for the door.

I faltered a step. Daimon showed up as if by magic, leaning on the door.

Instinct whirled me in the direction I'd came—a hand gripped my elbow, pulling me back. I screamed. I didn't understand why I was acting this way, why Daimon was acting this way.

I twisted, throwing punches left and right. Many met air, others caught him in the chest. But those were like insect bites to him and then, one landed on his jaw.

Using my lucky break, I pushed away from him, sprinting across the hall for the stairs. On the third or fourth floor, my feet betrayed me. I fell, landing flat-chested on the stairs. Hotness was prickling behind my eyes.

Pain shot through my jawbone as I tried getting up. My body shook as floor boards creaked behind me.

"You're scared of me," Daimon's voice was smooth, veiled in darkness. "Terrified. Because you know you can't escape, no matter how hard you try. You're defenseless and weak."

I gasped, grimacing as I used the banister to pull myself up. Giving up was not in my nature. I turned around, and there he was. Legs widespread, arms at his sides all wrapped in dark designer clothing.

The chills kept coming no matter how many steps I climbed, always keeping my eyes on him.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Scarlett. You don't have to be prone to these emotions—to mind compulsion. You can be strong, fearless..." His lips tipped at the end. "Like me."

Like him?

He... He was a monster. Every nerve ending in my body told me to run—to get away. Still I felt locked up. And Daimon was advancing, coming up each stair gracefully like a predator enjoying his hunt's terror.

Because he knew there was no escape.

Several things happened when I turned and ran the up the last few stairs, I wasn't pulled back like last time, no. I was hit from behind—chest smacking into a wall. Daimon's chest pressed on me, caging me. His nose didn't nuzzle my neck, his fangs didn't trace my skin before sinking—there weren't pleasantries.

Daimon simply bit me.

Hard.

There was no place in my mind where I could go, no running from the piercing agony. It shot from my neck all the way to my head and chest. I spasmed between him and the wall, screaming. There was no use in letting go—I couldn't. The fear was too deep and churning.

He tore in, growling over my faded yells. Vision started to blur, colors mixed into blackness and body parts numbed.

Are you feeling it, my sweet? This is the power a Vampire has—the power you could have.

Daimon's mental voice wasn't drowned by hot-poking pain because I didn't feel much of anything now. Just a tender sensation of release and... Was I supposed to feel so light...?

It was like... like the ground was moving. Or I was... falling...

Thoughts were coming further and further apart.

Until... Until there was this coldness over my neck—I think I shivered.

You never fail to disappoint, Scarlett. Always so sweet. Like rich chocolate...

Through hazy eyes I saw... saw a bloody mouth, overgrown teeth and the most blazing eyes.