DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. Charlotte Harley, however, is my own creation and belongs to me ^_^

Darkness.

Charlotte bit her lip, glancing nervously at her boyfriend and gripping his arm tightly. He leaned in close to her, and she grimaced as his overpowering cologne stung her nose.

"You agreed to come here with me," Steve whispered harshly into her ear. "We're here 'cause we want to be scared, remember? Don't chicken out on me now." As he spoke, the lights slowly returned, faintly illuminating the old theatre in which they sat.

Charlotte loosened her grip on Steve's arm, silently scolding herself for allowing her boyfriend to see her frightened—even if most of the other people in the audience with them were sharing the same feeling. Charlotte was hardly a chicken, on the contrary she had always been rather brave. Steve had always told her that was one of the traits he loved best about her, and so, in those rare moments when she felt scared, she made her best effort to hide her fear from him.

One of the previous acts was responsible for her terror. A snarling wolf man had been pushed around the room in a cage, and in the short period of time during which he had been released, he had bitten the hand off a woman in the audience. Mr. Tall, the man who appeared to be running the Cirque, had miraculously reattached the severed hand with a mysterious powder. After witnessing that, a terrified Charlotte felt as if she would believe anything.

"And now," boomed a voice on a loudspeaker, "Larten Crepsley and Madam Octa!"

Charlotte felt her fear slowly dissolve as her memory kicked into play, and she brushed a few stray black strands from her eyes. She remembered the pair from the Cirque du Freak flyer. A man and his performing spider, she smiled to herself. From a young age, Charlotte had always adored spiders— the bigger, the better. When they were twelve, Charlotte had shouted at Steve for deliberately stepping one of the "poor, innocent, eight-legged creatures who never gave you any reason to hurt them" while they were at school. The day we met… The day we became the best of friends.

The audience fell silent as a man holding a cage stepped onto the stage. Charlotte found herself staring in wonder from her second-row seat. The man had a rather unique appearance— he was tall and thin, with a pale complexion and a crop of bright orange hair on the top of his head. He had a long scar on the side of his face, extending upward from the corner of his mouth. The man was clothed fully in a blood-red suit.

Bizarre, thought Charlotte. In the seat to the right of her, she heard Steve gasp loudly, and she tore her eyes away from Larten Crepsley to look at her boyfriend. His expression was one of extreme shock, and Charlotte poked his arm curiously.

"Steve," she said softly, "are you okay? What's wrong?"

After a few moments Steve turned in his seat to face her. "I know him," he hissed, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"You know him?"

"Yeah— well, not personally, but…" He trailed off as Larten Crepsley cleared his throat from the stage and began to introduce the act.

Mr. Crepsley's voice was surprisingly deep, his intelligence obvious as he spoke. "Madam Octa is a particularly intriguing spider, as she is extremely deadly," he was saying. "Her venom first paralyses, and then kills the victim." Mr. Crepsley produced a small, silver flute, and unlatched the cage. Out of the metal cage stepped an enormous spider. Several people in the audience's jaws dropped at the sight of her.

Charlotte set her own jaw. The spider was huge, and the most beautiful she had ever seen. She tuned out almost completely, and spent several minutes gazing in awe at the magnificent creature.

The orange-haired man was now having Madam Octa perform tricks, and the gargantuan spider was dangling from the end of the silver flute he was using to control her.

I must have that spider, Charlotte realized. She is the single most amazing creature I have ever seen. She imagined herself playing tunes on the flute, having Madam Octa obediently dance for her and a delighted, laughing Steve. She smirked, wistful, but was jolted suddenly from her thoughts by a sharp pain in her right arm.

"WHA— Steve, ow!" Charlotte yelped, as Mr. Crepsley returned Madam Octa to her cage. Steve had unexpectedly dug his fingernails into her smooth, ivory skin. Every member of the audience turned to look her, and even Mr. Crepsley himself was staring at Charlotte in bewilderment. Charlotte's vibrant green eyes searched Steve's for a reason.

Steve fixed her with a smile. "I love you," he said, loud enough for the rest of the now quiet room to hear. Slowly, Steve leaned into her, and their lips met in a hesitant kiss. Charlotte felt her heart pounding in her chest, and she blushed furiously, feeling certain that everyone could hear it. Someone in the audience clapped, and not long after that, the whole room erupted in a thunderous applause. A few even whistled at the couple.

When Steve and Charlotte finally broke apart and the applause had died down, a startled Mr. Crepsley cleared his throat once again. "I offer my congratulations to the happy couple," he nodded in the direction of Charlotte and Steve, "and with that, my act has drawn to a close." He made a low bow, and took hold of Madam Octa's cage before exiting the stage in a calm and collected manner. The audience applauded once again, and many of the less squeamish cheered.

As the rest of the acts went on, Charlotte paid no attention. She was distracted, her mind dwelling on the kiss. Hours passed, and the show reached its conclusion. The show had been nothing short of spectacular, and though she had missed the majority of it, Charlotte had enjoyed Mr. Crepsley's and Madam Octa's act most of all she had seen. People began to rise from their seats and head for the exits.

"Steve, I think we should go n—" Charlotte started, but when she turned to look at her boyfriend, she was greeted by an empty seat.

Charlotte nearly stumbled as she heaved to open one of the theatre's entrance doors and quickly shuffled back inside, out of the chilly evening air. Steve's beat-up car had been in the parking lot, meaning he was still inside the theatre. What the hell is he thinking, thought Charlotte angrily, leaving me alone here of all places? She froze. She was forgetting something, she was sure. Something important.

Madam Octa. As the name crept in Charlotte's mind, slowly but surely a foolish idea formed. Unconsciously, she pushed finding Steve to the back of her list of priorities, and realized her legs were moving as if of their own accord— she was headed for the dressing rooms, and her mind was set. She hastily followed a different hallway, squinting in the dim light as she moved. She nearly became lost, opening several doors on her way, and finding herself more than once in an unfamiliar hallway.

Eventually she came to a stop in a long, narrow hallway lined with a number of name-plated doors on either wall. Charlotte's heartrate quickened, as she knew her destination was imminent. She ambled down the dark hall, steadily and at a slow enough pace so she was granted time to read each nameplate as she passed. Truska, Cormac Limbs, Evra Von… Charlotte merely allowed a quick glance at them— the names were meaningless to her, they were not the ones she was searching for.

At last, Charlotte reached the correct door. It loomed before her small frame, and she tilted her head upward to stare at the nameplate that now glared back at her.

Larten Crepsley and Madam Octa.

Charlotte held her breath. She reached a small, trembling hand to the doorknob… She heard something. She froze, slowly and silently leaning in and pressing her ear to the door.

"I know who you are," uttered Steve's harsh, muffled voice, "and what you are."

Charlotte gaped in surprise at hearing her boyfriend's voice in Mr. Crepsley's dressing room. She strained her ears, listening…

"You're a vampire."

Charlotte's heart nearly stopped.