The slave winced as her bare knees hit the rough concrete.

Glancing over her shoulder, she shot a look of confusion at her master who had pushed her out of the limo.

Sneering at her, he said, "Sorry this is so sudden." Smirking, his fangs flashed in the dim lighting of the Caldwell, New York street lights. His eye tracked up her body sprawled on the ground with possession, then something like regret briefly shone in his pale eyes.

Then they were back to their old, cold, merciless selves. "The King doesn't allow bloodslaves in the United States. So, I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go."

The car slammed with more force than was really needed. And just as she thought he was going to drive away, he rolled down his window and glanced down at her with a look of pity, "Though, I do regret having to give up that excellent body of yours. I've enjoyed it quite thoroughly over the years."

And with those last words, the window rolled back up, and the car sped away, leaving the slave all alone.

Pushing herself to her feet, she warily looked around for any sign of life. Though, since it was late at night, most of the humans were at home, warm and asleep in their beds. Where she wished she could be.

Cringing at a sudden chilly gust of wind, the slave wrapped her arms around herself. It was September in Caldwell, and the nights had grown cold. The short, cotton dress, her master had always insisted she wear when they were alone, and bare feet didn't help matters. When another cold breeze hit her, she knew she had to find shelter. Not just from cold, but from the approaching dawn as well.

Putting one foot in front of the other, she slowly started down the sidewalk, not lifting her eyes from the gray surface unless she passed a building that seemed appropriate for hiding away during the day. Only to find that it was either inhabited, or unfit for her needs.

For what seemed like hours, she walked and walked. Her feet, cut and bleeding from stepping on foreign objects on the ground, dully throbbed. But she'd experienced far harsher punishments from her master than a simple sting, so she sent the small pain to the back of her mind. She was just about to give up and surrender herself to dawn's light, when she caught the sound of the pulsing beat of music in the air.

Her head snapped up, the people listening to this music could be dangerous. Humans.

Or lessers.

In the distance, she noticed a bright, neon sign. The glowing words: The Iron Mask , seemed to draw her, a beacon that promised warmth, and safety. She shook her head. No, she couldn't go in there. The humans lined up outside the club awaiting entrance, clearly deemed it a gathering for place for humans, and maybe even lessers. Sighing, she decided she needed to keep searching for another haven.

She started walking again, intending to just pass by the club, when male voice called out to her.

"Hey, baby! What's a good lookin' girl like yourself doin' out here all alone?"

The slurred speech and the reek of alcohol labeled the male intoxicated. And if human males were anything like males of her species when they were drunk, she didn't want to confront him. So, she kept on walking, picking up speed.

"C'mon, baby. We just wanna' play," the voice whined.

Oh sweet Virgin. We? There were more than one of them?

As the sound of footsteps behind her drew closer, she debated dematerializing. That would get her free of the human and however many others there were. She tried, picturing herself in a different place, and her molecules scattering into the wind.

But her thoughts were interrupted by a gnawing pain in her gut that almost had her dropping to the ground and doubling over.

Apparently, dematerializing was out of the question. She was too weak. Her master had taken too much from her when he'd fed from her vein earlier this evening, and it had been a while since she'd last fed.

Her terror grew, when the male voice behind her sounded closer and more aggressive, ordering, demanding her to stop.

Relying on instinct, she broke into a run, her legs pumping as fast as she could make them go. Maybe they wouldn't engage in a chase, maybe they'd let her go and go back into the club.

When a big hand clamped down on her arm with an iron grip, she knew that wasn't the case.

She was whirled around so fast, she became dizzy, and found herself face to face with a drunken human male.

Her grinned at her , "What's the matter, sweet cheeks? Afraid to play with me and my pal here?" His eyes roamed up and down her body, coming to rest on her breasts, and the nipples that could be seen through the thin dress. "Hey, Jim! This one's a beaut. Stacked too."

Turning her around, yet still keeping his grip on her arms, he showed his prize to his friend, a short male with light brown hair and the coldest eyes she'd ever seen other than her master's. He studied her like a rancher might before buying a new horse.

Then he opened his mouth and said two words in an emotionless tone that had her blood running cold. "She'll do."

Faintly, she heard the man handling her express his excitement. Her mind had gone blank of all thoughts.

When they began to steer her into an alley, her brain finally kicked into gear. She may have been powerless to stop her master, but she was not going to just let these humans rape her! She had to get away!

Snapping her head back, she broke the man holding her arm's nose. Ignoring the pain in her head and the sickening crunching of the broken bones in her captor's nose, the slave yanked herself free and ran for her life. Her breath came in hard pants, she was weakening slowly, her lack of blood affecting her more and more as she used more of her body's energy.

She didn't get very far before she was slammed to the ground from behind.

Rough hands flipped her over onto her back, and the shorter, cold-eyed man shoved a hand in her hair and yanked her head up off the ground. Grabbing her chin in his free hand, he forced her face closer to his and with a smile full of mirth said, "I'm glad you ran. I like it when they run." His voice became thoughtful, "I wonder if you'll scream."

Determined not to go down without a fight, the slave spit in his face.

Releasing her face, he wiped the spit off his cheek.

The smile didn't even leave his face.

That horrible smile was the last thing she saw before her world went black.