Yes, I know. Another new story. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.

To be honest, I've been struggling with severe writer's block in addition to a whole boatload of stresses in my personal life. Apparently, my muse doesn't like stress and took her toga-clad tail off to pout. She's been there for weeks. Then, just recently, I was lucky enough to stumble upon the artwork of one xx-junglebeatz-xx on tumblr. I found their artwork to be delightfully quirky and a very fresh, creative take on everyone's favorite mammals. I was inspired. A conversation, some permission and a little collaboration later, I have a new story. I also have a new drive on my other works, so I'll call this a solid win. Please, check Beatz out on tumblr, if you get a chance. I am in their debt for this story and my current inspiration. Regarding my other works, I am back on the horse. Just, please, bear with me as I play catch up.

Now, enough chatter. On to the story!

Nick leaned back against the tree roots he found himself flopped against. He was starving. He hadn't had anything in days. Not a drop. If he were a normal vampire, born into the dark blessing, he would have a much easier time of it. Sadly, he was not a born vamp. He still had a century or so before he grew into the same base-level that his adopted sister and parents possessed. The fox groaned as he lay there. It was echoed by his stomach. Not for the first time he wondered if it had a mind of its own.

He'd made a lot of bad choices in his life, but right at the very top was the series of choices that led him to this starving state. Skye had warned him that taking work from the mob was a bad idea. He'd neatly ignored his sister and gone off to make some pocket money. He'd thought the con out very thoroughly, in his opinion. Get in as a courier, prove his value, propose a little deal, get paid, and scamper. No one would be the wiser about the rug until he was long gone. He had a false identity all set up and everything worked out. It was hardly his fault that the head of the Big family was an ice elemental with an exceptional gift for tracking.

Nick had made it out of the city by the barest of margins. None of his bolt holes had been safe. None of his preparations had been of any use and his false ID did nothing. That was the last time he'd try to con anyone that powerful.

"It's a guarantee I won't if I starve to final death, first," he groused impotently to himself.

The one plus he found in his situation was that the woods he'd hidden in were nice and dense. Old growth forests were good for shade and, therefore, good for him. Sunlight wouldn't kill him, but it was not pleasant, either. Especially on the eyes. His trademark aviators were no fashion statement. Without them, his eyes would cook in his head inside of an hour on a sunny day and likely take another two or so hours to heal. Nick longed for the day when he could heal like his father. Dad could handle direct sunlight for half a day before suffering any hurt and heal in minutes. All Nick had to do was stay alive for another five hundred years and he'd be all set.

Taking stock of his situation was a waste of time. He was decently safe, had almost nothing. His phone was gone, as were most of his other possessions. He had his wallet, his real wallet, and a little cash. Not enough for anything useful and he had no place to spend it anyway, being in the middle of the woods.

The only chance Nick had was finding a mammal to feed on. He had a little strength left. Maybe enough for a little mesmerizing and a mind blank. It would just take a swallow or two to last him another twelve hours. Then, he could repeat the process. Once he found one mammal, they would lead him to others. Once a new hunting ground was had, there'd be sustenance aplenty to last him until the heat on his tail died down.

He was gathering himself to start moving when he heard movement. It sounded like something big. If it was a bear, he'd be saved. Larger mammals had more blood to spare with less effect. Nick might just be able to fill his belly and not cause any harm. It was too much to hope for. Acting quickly, Nick burned a meagre drop of his remaining power to amp up his olfactory perception. Inhaling deeply, Nick's elation turned to dread. The smell was bizarre. There was too much in it to decipher, but one note in the mammal's odor made it clear Nick was in serious trouble. The mammal was headed his way, and there was no mistaking that what was headed his way was a lycanthrope.

The Truce had held for over two centuries between the vampires and lycanthropes, but there was still a lot of bad blood between the species. Weres had the right to destroy any vampire trespassing on their territory. That didn't apply in the city so much as official "territories" were forbidden. There were too many normies around, so everyone played nice and got along to get along. Quite a few of the mammals Nick had business dealings with from time to time were Weres. Hells, his partner was one! That didn't mean that Finnnick wouldn't bite his face off if Nick irritated him too much, but they knew each-others' limits. One might even claim they were on friendly terms.

This was not the city. Nick was starved to weakness and in a lycanthrope's territory. All he had to work with was his silver tongue. It was a long shot, but better than nothing. Even at their best, a lone vamp in a Were's territory would likely not survive, especially a starved one. His only chance was to talk his way out of it, but, given his recent track record, that wasn't likely. He'd used every shred of beguilement and charm to talk Mr. Big into allowing him to flee for his life. Now? With depleted powers he was all but certainly doomed.

How ironic. He'd meet his end, not at the paw of a mob boss, but a Beast. He'd be torn apart by a slavering monster instead of being turned into an ice sculpture. His sister would never let him live this down. That is, if he could be resurrected, or would want to be. Even if his family could find his remains and execute the ritual, it might not work. He was still only about twenty years into the Dark Blessing, so it wasn't a guarantee. Besides, Nick did not fancy the idea of having to put himself back together on top of everything else.

Nick was pulled from his distracted reverie as a thicket on the rise across from him rustled. The Beast was not attempting quiet or subtlety. All Nick could see against the moonlight was a hulking mass of muscle and fur. The thing was enormous. Easily the size of a bear. Luminous amethyst eyes shone in the dark.

The beast paused, scenting the air. Nick mustered himself in the face of his fear to at least attempt to talk the Beast away from mauling him, but was shocked still when the massive being's head cocked to the side as though confused and two long, obviously lapin ears popped up on the top of its head.

The wind blew straight out of Nick's sails and he slumped back down, groaning. "Of all the things I could be killed by, it just had to be a were-rabbit."