A/N: Sorry it's taking me so long to update. My Great Gandamother passed on Wednesday. She would have been 91 in August and she was the most amazing lady you'd ever meet :) I want to start writing again to get my mind off of things. I have about half a chapter waiting to be finished, but now just isn't the time. Hopefully by next week you'll have more.

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I paced back and forth beneath the trees, staring up through the leaves toward the moon. As the wind died down I glanced to my left, across the rows of graves. My gaze settled on the warm little farmhouse sitting lonely on the edge of the cemetery.

It had been years since I had entered that house. Forty years. It was now part of the historical park that encompassed the antebellum cemetery and the second house across from it just up Hummingbird Road. The more historical of the two houses was the Compton House and Historical Museum. The Compton family, leaving no living (or otherwise) heirs, had Finally Died some twenty-two years ago. The last owner of the home had kept it in immaculate conditions and it was one of the last surviving antebellum homes in the greater part of Louisiana. It's doors remained open from 8 AM to 4AM daily to allow for the light challenged individuals of the community to come learn about the War of Northern Aggression (at least, those of us who hadn't lived through it, that is). The Stackhouse Family Home, while certainly a place of note around the community, was less used as a museum and more so a home for the Compton caretaker and Historian. Though every now and then people would stop by, wanting a glimpse of where the famed telepath had made her home.

I ran my fingers back through my hair and along my jaw, resting my hand over my mouth. I was hungry and weary, but I would share her first meal with her. It had been decades since I had made a child, and while it was now a common practice among the upper class to avoid death, cure disease and secure their social status for untold years through conversion, as they now referred to it, I was old fashioned. I would not turn a human for any amount of monetary compensation. It was circumstance and nostalgia and greed that took hold of me the night I made her. I saw in her a stoicism and spark I had not seen in a human in nearly forty years. And I had to have more of her.

I turned back to the fresh grave with anticipation. I crouched near her head and felt the soft, damp earth beneath my fingertips. I was swept up in a wave of memory and emotion.

***

I was standing outside a bar on Sixth Street called La Zonna Rosa. It was 4AM, Pam should have been here moments ago. Once a popular music venue in Austin, The Zone, as they now called it, was on the outs. I had been spending the last decade running a company that helped venues revive themselves for the public, with a certain vampire flair. The 'fangbanger' phase had gone out of style as the world began accepting and integrating vampires into human society. And while tourists weren't as easily catered to as they had been in the past, there was still a market for those who wished to live on the other side of the fence. Pam and I were now making a temporary home in the Texas hill country and marketing ourselves to several businesses gone bust. Now she was fifteen minutes late.

I had been well fed in the few weeks we had been here, and the scent of fresh blood was easily dismissed. It was the accompanying sobs and expletives that lured me across the sixth street to the steps of a coffee bar, now closed for the night. Huddled against the door was a puddle of matted brown hair and a tangle of legs in a long, dull orange skirt. Underneath the hair sat a child of nineteen, maybe twenty years, cradling a bloody hand to her body. She was barefoot, with tiny hindi tattoos scattered across the tops of her feet. She was very thin, very pale and she was shaking. I stood there, taking her in, mesmerized by her helplessness.

"Fucking Christ! Goddamnit! Asshole!" she was screaming at the door behind her. "How can anyone be so completely fucking devoid of emotion, you cunt?! Fuckstick!"

I could feel the fear radiating off of her as I stepped closer to the storefront. She was trying to project bravado, and she was turning the heads of passersby in the process, but none were coming to her aid. She went quiet and winced as she pulled a long sliver of glass out of her bloodied hand. I noticed the broken bottle sitting on the cement next to her. She still hadn't looked up at me, but I knew she was aware.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat in a human gesture meant to make humans more comfortable.

"Vampire," she proclaimed in a mild tone. "You smell like one."

That was certainly not the response I was expecting.

"But a business-y one. You don't kill much, do you? You're not from around here, either. Well, most vamps aren't from around wherever they end up, but I mean, you've spent most of the last, oh I'd say, hundred years or so east of here. And you're waiting on a pretty girl." With that she lifted her chin and met my eyes. Hers were bright gold in color.

"I'm quite impressed. Now guess my age, name and business and I will consider it more than a parlor trick," but I was impressed, though my tone suggested otherwise.

"There haven't been parlors to do tricks in since the early part of last century, Mr. N. And I'd say your age is around 800 or so."

"You flatter. But you haven't got my full name and you're a bit short on the age, my dear." I smirked in spite of myself. "Years ago, if someone had appeared out of nowhere, knowing what you know about me, I'd have counted them a well educated enemy." I growled softly. "I have no enemies any longer. I destroyed them all. What are you?"

"I'm a girl who's cut her hand trying to knock some sense into a scumbag," she spat out the last word in disgust. I let my eyes wonder the area around the sprawled child and discovered a large silver colored duffle bag and a small grey purse tossed aside. I reached for the bag with one hand and lifted her to he feet by her uninjured arm with the other.

"You'll be the pretty girl I was waiting for this evening."

Her eyes widened and I could sense the fear tamp up again. She stiffened as she stood in front of me.

"I didn't think vamps kidnapped victims anymore," her tone was even but there was an edge to her voice. I wondered why she wasn't running if she was so frightened. They used to run. I remembered that. They screamed too.

"You should get that cleaned up. And my date has stood me up I suppose. Can I carry your bags anywhere for you? It's late." I didn't know why, but I was determined to learn more about this one before I let her escape my sight.

"You're not hungry?" she asked with a smirk, and I felt her relax a bit. I stood there, staring blankly at her. I was hungry for more than blood from this one. She was intriguing me.

"Well, I am," she looked down at her feet and then up the street. "Do you have a car?"

***

I sat her bag in my trunk and slid into the drivers seat, reaching across to open her door from the inside. She looked in nervously.

"This is an old car," she sighed.

"It is a very good, very expensive old car," I said defensively as I rubbed the leather of the passenger's seat. I motioned for her to get in.

"I'll get blood everywhere," and she waved her injured palm in front of her. I gingerly grasped her wrist and pulled her into my Astin Martin.

"No worries, I will take care of everything."

She slowly closed the door behind her. Her emotions were a rollercoaster of fear, relief, anxiety and curiosity.

I took her bloody hand in mine and raised it to my mouth, but hesitated there to wait for her reaction. She stared straight into my eyes, and did not breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to clean your wound and heal it. It's not bleeding anymore anyway." She relaxed a bit and leaned her back against her door so that she was facing me. I lifted her palm to my mouth and began to clean the blood from her wrist and fingertips. When her taste hit the back of my throat, my mind screamed in realization. Fairy. I kept my eyes lowered and my tongue busy. It was faint. Much more faint than Sookie's blood had been. After all, the fae had been gone from this plain for four decades, enough time to seriously dilute the blood of any fae offspring. Did she know what secrets her blood held? I licked until I realized her hand had been clean for some time. As I cut my thumb on a fang, I heard her giggle.

"Can't you glamour me? I mean, you've asked, been very polite, but you haven't made me do any of this. Can't you do that?"

I began running my bloodied thumb along her palm where the glass had sunk deep in the flesh. When she began to heal, I pulled a tissue out of the glove compartment and wiped her hand clean once more.

I turned in my seat and started the engine. As I was pulling out of the tiny parking lot at the end of the street, my phone rang. I pressed the button on my headset on the second ring.

"Pamela, you were late… You should find somewhere else to sleep for the day. I'm heading home now. We must talk but… Later, Pam. Hurry and be safe, it is almost light."

"Whoa. You're not taking me to your place, are you? You can drop me off at a coffee shop on the drag. It's 24 hrs. It's safe." She crossed her arms in a show of stubbornness, and stared out the window.

"My name is Eric, and I am afraid I won't be going home by way of… 'the drag', I believe you called it? Guadalupe Street, yes?"

"Yes," she affirmed softly as she turned to look at me again. I could see my stupid grin reflected in her golden irises. That wouldn't do. I ran my hand across my mouth and quite literally wiped the smile off of my face.

"Would you like me to glamour you?" I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. I glanced at her again, expecting to see shock, where I only saw a tired smile.

"I don't think you'll have to. I have a habit of falling asleep in moving cars. It's like being rocked to sleep. I've just been so tired lately. Haven't been getting the really good kind of sleep, you know? I've been walking for, well days, I guess. I've been getting showers here and there. Got a couple of friendlies at tattoo shops and dinners, so I can keep clean and keep fed, but it's been hard you know?" she drifted off into silence for a moment. "I need to figure things out, and fast." She leaned her head up against the passenger window and fell fast asleep.

***

She had been in the ground for three nights and now it was time for her to rise. I crouched near her head, a six pack of blood close at hand. I would be there, to comfort, to explain and to be held accountable for what I had done. She would, no doubt, want to be left alone to grieve. The least I could do would be to take her to my home and be there to comfort her in private and safety.

I felt her scream before I heard it and I sent my hand down into the fresh grave to help her out before her panic consumed her.

"It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a dream," she sobbed into my chest as she placed both of her arms around my waist. "No. She was real. It wasn't a dream, Eric. How could you?" You should have let me die with her! She would not say it, but I felt it to my very core. Her words dissolved into incoherent sobs as I lifted her in my arms and carried her back to my car. I sat her in the passengers seat and opened a bottle of blood. I kneeled down by the door and held it out to her. Her sobbing evened out and her red, tearstained cheeks began to dry.

"I don't want it," she whispered softly.

"I'm taking you home," I handed her the bottle anyway, and made my way around to my seat. We headed off to Shreveport in silence. Along the way I noticed her drink the first bottle and start on a second. She was drinking very slowly and was almost finished with her second bottle by the time we pulled into my driveway.

Although I knew how independent she insisted on being, I also knew she was in no kind of mental state to deal with this on her own. I walked around the car, opened her door and lifted her from her seat. I carried her into the house and back to the bathroom. I had prepared clean clothes, towels and candles to be lit the night before. I began running hot water into the tub. I glanced over my shoulder where she half sat, half sprawled on the floor against the vanity, shifting her bottle of blood from one hand to the other.

Once the water was steadily running and the candles had been lit, I turned to undress her. I gently removed the bottle from her hands and lifted her arms above her head as I pulled her dress off of her. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her panties were next and then her jewelry. I sat her rings on the counter and left her clothes in a muddy heap on the floor. I picked her up and gently placed her in the tub. I handed her bottle of blood back to her and sat back on my haunches. I watched her sit and sip and cry tears of blood. And I ached for her loss.

After several moments of silence she asked my to help her get clean. I washed her hair and massaged her back, but left the rest to her. I didn't want her to feel used or objectified, only safe. When she was clean I lifted her out of the bath and drained it. I toweled her dry and dressed her in her soft grey cotton slip. Her hair was already beginning to dry in unruly waves. I pulled her to me and held her close.

We left the bathroom and headed for her bedroom, a small room next to mine. It wasn't light tight so she would have to share my room for now.

"How much time?"

"Dawn is in six hours, but you will need to rest in four or five." I sat next to her on the floor, our backs against her bed. "Do you have questions for me? Anything you wish to know?" Her golden eyes, still rimed with her bloody tears, stared straight to the heart of me.

"Do you love me?"

***

She was still sleeping when I pulled into the gated community at the edge of the river. I could hear her breathing softly, her breath making small clouds against the window. I had about forty-five minutes to situate her and take care of a few personal things before dawn.

I made my way around to the trunk and took her bag up the steps and set it just inside the door. On my way back the sprinklers kicked on soaking the bottom of my jeans. I reached her door and opened it slowly. She fell into my arms and stirred restlessly before quieting back into sleep. How could she be so trusting? Perhaps I was old fashioned, but a modicum of fear was what I expected from humans.

The house that Pam had secured for us was comparatively modest next to those surrounding us. It was off the banks of the Colorado River in a gated community that offered vampire security measures to its residents. It was an open concept, split level home with light safe glass in all rooms and an additional light tight, fireproof room set above the garage. It had a substantial kitchen by vampire standards. Three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms and a great room encompassed the lower level. The master bed, bath and den occupied the upper level. The front and sides of the home had a few strategically placed widows, but the back of the house, facing the river, was nearly an entire wall of light safe glass. Floor to ceiling, upstairs and down.

I walked through the double doors and past the stairway to my living area, and deposited the girl on the couch in the great room. I grabbed a blanket from the arm of the sofa and draped it over her. I noticed that she was bordering on being filthy.

My phone buzzed on my way to the kitchen. It was a text message from Pam.

Master, I apologize for my tardiness. There was some latent business in Shreveport I had to attend to. Nothing that cannot wait to be discussed. Please enjoy your evening. A meal, perhaps? I will be sheltering downtown.

I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a blood. As I waited for it to heat in the microwave, I took pen and paper from a drawer and began a message to… I hadn't even gotten her name.

Please take a shower.

If you wish, you may stay in residence through the day. I have little business to attend to tomorrow evening and would be pleased if you would join me for dinner.

It would be unwise of you to explore.

Rest and I will take care of everything else in the evening.

-E

I glanced at the couch where I had left her. She had curled herself into a small bundle of hair, filthy clothing and the blanket I had covered her with. I left the note on the kitchen counter. And proceeded upstairs for the day.

***

I woke early. The last rays of sunlight were sinking beneath the riverbank. It was one pleasure of having survived as long as I had. I stood in front of the wall of glass marveling. My age, along with advancing technology, had allowed me to behold what I once thought lost forever.

I had only pulled on my jeans when the music made it's way up the stairs to my ears. She was playing it softly, but I heard it clear as a bell. It was an old tune, something you would hear on the classic stations. It reminded me…

I made my way down the stairs and found her in the kitchen. She was wiping the countertop with a rag, singing along softly.

"When the tears come streaming down your face

When you loose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home

And ignite…"

"Please turn that off."

She jumped and gasped as she turned to face me. She was wearing a pair of my boxers and an old Fangtasia t-shirt. She reached over to my iPod and turned it off. I walked past her to the refrigerator and got myself a blood. I didn't bother to heat it.

"I see you did not take my advice," I leaned back against the counter and looked her up and down. She was clean now. Her hair fell in long light brown waves to the middle of her back. Her nose held a surgical steel stud and I could see small hindi spiral tattoos trailing down from behind her left ear. She stood in front of me and stared back.

"How old are you," I gripped the counter behind me, trying to restrain my shock. She completely ignored my reprimand.

"I don't believe we know one another well enough for that, my dear. Where are your clothes and why are you wearing mine?"

"Sorry, but you said to shower and I didn't have anything clean to wear. I found your washer and I'm drying my clothes now. These were out in the garage. I thought I'd clean a bit. Sorry if I woke you with the music. I like old music." She finally stopped for a breath and held her hand out to me. "Devonee, by the way."

I stared until she realized I was not going to accept her hand. She quickly placed it behind her back and looked out the kitchen window.

"It means Godlike," I was referring to the name she had given me. Perhaps it had given her a complex.

"I didn't know that," she spoke softly to the window. "Look, I'm sorry to bother you. I'll get my things packed once they're dry and catch a bus downtown. Thanks for the place to sleep." She looked down at her palm, now healed, without even a faint scar. "And… everything else."

"What else did you discover on your wanderings through my house?" I glanced at the iPod and back at her. "I see you found something to entertain yourself."

"Sorry."

"It is a small offense." I brushed it off quickly. If I had allowed myself to suffer for everything that reminded me of her, I would have been finally dead long ago. "Are you accompanying me this evening? I could use a change of scenery. Pam visits five star restaurants and hotel dining rooms and bars, it can become quite boring."

She looked at me quizzically. I was not sure if she was put off by my mention of Pam or my extended dinner invitation.

"Pam is my business partner. She will not be joining us. As I said, I need a change of scenery."

"Well… where do you want to go?" she drew her gaze from the window, across the kitchen floor and up to meet my stare.

***

"That is not what I meant, Devonee." I was trying to keep myself calm and under control. If I let myself go, she would crumble. I had never made one so fragile. It was taking all of my strength to hold her together. "We must discuss logistics and facts and…" I stared down at the newborn vampire crumpled on the floor next to me. My child.

Her eyes looked back at me, empty. The same eyes that had stared at me, cold and dead, moments before I turned her.

"If that's not an answer, I don't know what is." It was like the flat of a blade coming down across my cheek.

"Devonee Blair!" I erupted. I snapped back into the Master/Child mentality. I saw her cringe and turn her head away from me. "Love does not exist in our world. What kind of a stupid question is that? There will be no room for love in you. Do you understand me?"

I watched as she dug deep to bring up her signature resolve. I knew she would. This was what was left for her and she had to deal with it. When she made up her mind, it was solidified.

We sat late into the night discussing what was to come, protocols, hierarchy. Her place in my home had not changed. She was still my employee, would still see to my business affairs, only at night. We discussed next weeks trip back to Texas. We shared another bottle of blood. And, finally, the sleep of the dead was dragging her under.

I carried her dead weight back into my bedroom and placed her on the bed. I still had an hour before my daytime sleep would take me. I sighed and sat on the comforter next to her. I pulled my shirt off over my head. It had been a tiresome week. I was raw. I was tired. I was determined to return to the normalcy I had become accustomed to. No more fighting for my life, my status. No more fighting for her's.