Chapter 3

           The light of the moon streamed in through the tinted windows of the black limousine.  It cast a dark blue light over the leather seats and the interior of the car.  Moon light reflected off the spotless car and caused a dark shimmering affect.  As buildings few by the moving vehicle, the moon light flickered and darted in different patterns over the leather.  Taisto sat, head lowered, eyes fixed on the carpeted floor.  Moon light flickered over the side of his face.  Pamela was next to him in the back seat, eyes closed, and relaxed.  The car moved in near silence.  As they road, all the sounds occurring were the sounds of the road against rubber.  He had one arm wrapped around her, holding her close to his side.  Partly, it was to make her feel safe as she slept, and another part of it was simply that he wanted to hold her. He lifted his eyes from the floor and looked into her face.  Beautiful. The moon flickered over her face.  In this light, her hair was much darker that normal.  Sleeping that way, she looked so peaceful.  He could hear the sound of her breathing, it was steady, and deep.  The moon cast a blue light over her skin.  Her head lie against  his arm, tilted back, neck exquisitely exposed.  He let himself gaze at her pale neck.  It looked smooth and alluring. Taisto shifted in the seat and moved closer to her, staring into her face.  He was careful not to shift his arm or the side she rested against too much for fear of waking her.  His face was only inches away from hers.  Her face was so smooth and perfect. He could have kissed her now, the thought had crossed his mind.  Likely, she would not even awaken if his lips were to brush hers.  He could imagine the sensation of his lips touching hers.  He could almost taste her lips against his own.  They were plump and inviting, irrestistible to be sure.  His own breathing pattern had changed, it was heavier suddenly.  His heart beat a bit harder as his eyes moved from her lips to her neck.  He moved closer.  This close to her, he could feel the heat of his own breath bounce off her neck.  His fangs extended.  Lightly, he allowed his fangs touch  her skin.  The beats of his heart were racing like mad.  The sound of her heart beat and the rushing of her blood through her veins pounded in his ears.  Her blood would be sweet, he could tell.  It would be a more sensual taste than anything else.  He could smell it, feel it, and he desired it.  The temptation was growing beyond what he could stand.  If it was just a prick, barely enough to puncture the skin,  maybe she would not notice.  If it was just enough to draw blood, maybe he could escape her notice.  Wait.  Taisto closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  No.  He could not do that, not yet. 
    Pamela moved slightly, and a pitiful whimper rose from her lips.  He pulled away to look into her face.  She had not been awakened, she was still not conscious.  More than likely, she was having some kind of flash back.  After looking at her for a time, he pulled away and rested his head on the back of the seat.  He closed his eyes again and sighed.  Not yet, it was not time.  He had to wait.  Control.  He had to control such urges.  He had to be patient, and wait for the right time. 

                                                                               

    The long car pulled up in front of the police station.  Taisto watched as the building moved closer as the car settled into its place. He looked up at the large sign in the front of the building that informed the public that the local law enforcement resided in that spot.  The light from a street lamp made his eyes sparkle.  For a fleeting moment when the light first touched his eye, it made his eyes turn a darker shade than green.  He blinked quickly to return them to the correct shade of green.  Something about those types of street lights made his eyes react.  They always regressed to their original color of deep, dark blue.  He sat up and looked at Pamela.  It would be best if she stayed here while he went inside.  Carefully, he slipped his hand under her head and lifted it up so he could slide his arm out from under her.  Just as his arm was clear of her, her eyes fluttered open.  She looked like she was in a daze.  She let out a quiet moan.  Her head started to roll to the side.  Eyes bleary and confused, she sat up slightly.
    He cupped her face in his hands. "Relax.  Your alright,"  He gently pushed her back.
    "But wh-where am I? What happened?"
    She did not resist him as he pushed her down onto the seat.  He knelt beside her and gently lifted her legs onto the seat as well.  She instinctively pulled her knees up and lie in a near fetal position.  Taisto slipped his coat off and used it as a blanket to cover her.  She stared up at him with eyes that still held that helplessness he had seen in her before.  He stroked her head softly, letting her soft hair flow between his fingers.  Strangely, she did not seem at all concerned that she was in an unfamiliar car with a person she hardly knew.  She was not resisting him, but rather giving into him easily.
    "I will take care of this."  He massaged her temple with his fingers.  "Just sleep."
    "But -- "  Her voice was so soft it was hardly noticeable.
    "Hush."  He lowered his voice to a whisper.  "Close your eyes."
    Obediently, her eyes drifted shut.  Again, he thought of kissing her lightly, but did not.  He stayed by her side a few minuets more, until he was satisfied she was asleep again, then slipped away from her and eased out of the car door.  Taisto straightened and adjusted the collar of his black suede shirt.  Slowly, he shut the car door, trying to avoid the loud sound it would make.  The door clicked shut.   Taisto walked up the concrete steps, not bothering to touch the rot iron black railing.  The lights overhead sent a yellow glow over the steps, and gave his skin an odd glow.  He reached out and gripped the cold handle of the door, hesitated, then threw it open.  He walked inside and surveyed his surroundings.  The room smelled strange, musty maybe.  The moment he entered, eyes flew from their projects, and focused on the adolescent coming in.  Many of them were bleary-eyed, and had dark circles under their eyes.  There were several officers in the main room, and through other doors, he could see several more.  Desks with files piled on top, and desk organizers spilling over with papers, were a clear sign of an overworked department.  Who knew how much overtime and lack of sleep each officer in the room had going right now.  Taisto walked past several desks and headed to the man he guessed took statements, and directed pedestrians.  The name on the man’s desk read: M. J. Smith.  The short, balding man watched him come with mild interest.  His blue dress shirt was wrinkled, top button undone, and his tie hung loosely around his neck.  
    “I would like to ask you a question, Sir.”  Taisto said politely.
    The man seemed annoyed at the intrusion.  “What do you need, kid?”           
    “If, say, I were to make a citizens arrest, could I bring the person here?”
    Smith eyed him, taken back momentarily.  “I suppose you could do it that way, but I would hardly suggest that kinda action.”  He grunted.  “Just report the problem, and let us handle it.  You should never run around being a vigilante, kid.”
    “But, hypothetically, if I did, I could bring him here? ”  Taisto remained emotionless.
    “Yeah, but I don’t recommend it.  We do the arresting.”
    “Thank you for your assistance.”  Taisto turned, and walked back toward the door.
    Eyes that had first watched him enter now ignored his exit.  Obviously, he was not a person of interest.  To them, he likely looked like a punk, but he was not posing a threat to anyone here.  They had other cases to attend to rather than gawking at him.  Taisto pulled the door open and walked back into the yellow light.  The night air was a harsh change from the building, not that he even minded the cold. His heavy shoes clunked against the concrete.  His driver stood by the trunk, waiting.  
    “I think it is time to have a little fun.”  Taisto chuckled.  “And be a good citizen.  Right?”
    The driver grinned. “Yes, Sir!”
    Taisto tipped his head.  “Open it.”
    The keys jingled as the driver took them out, and they rapped against the trunk.  The keys turned to the side with a distinctive thump.  The lid to the trunk instantly popped up, revealing a crumpled body.  The form had a rope around his wrists and ankles.  The man turned his head, eyes wide.  Taisto looked down at him with disdain. He extended his claws slightly, just enough to serve as a knife.  Without letting the light fall on his exposed claws, he reached down and cut the ropes.  Immediately, he retracted his nails and jerked the gag from the prisoners mouth.  Surprisingly, the man did not make a sound.  The likely reason was fear of agitating them.  With one hand, Taisto grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out of the trunk.  Like a possum playing dead, the man did not even twitch, even though he was suspended in the air.  The driver slammed the trunk shut and walked to the driver side door to wait again.  The man remained compliant, and Taisto lead him to the stations door.  The little prisoners eyes widened as he noticed the sign, but he still did not resist.  It would have bee pointless.  Maybe he though that even jail was a less concerning prospect than staying where he was.  Taisto opened the door and guided him inside.  His prisoner stumbled over the threshold and stopped.
    Taisto still had him by the back of the neck.  “Listen.”  His voice was low.  “You are going to tell them exactly what you did, and then, you will plead guilty at trial.  Understand?”
    The man turned and stared at him in confusion.
    “If you do not, you will regret it!  You better hope your lawyer does not get you off, because if you get off, I will be there to punish you instead.”  The man cringed under his glare.  “Are we clear?”
    “Y-yes, clear!”  The voice was full of tremors.
    “Good.  Then you will tell them everything, and sound as guilty as you can.”  He smiled.  “Oh, but you can leave out the part about the trunk.  I just took you here in the car.”
    The man nodded and walked with him obediently.
    Eyes were again fixed on him, but this time, they were even more intent. Ignoring them all, he lead his prisoner on.  The stares followed him all the way to Smith’s desk.  One man stood up, seeming to feel the need to be ready for some unknown danger. Officer Smith had his back to them, and had not seen the entry.  The back of the chair was torn, and some of the stuffing was hanging from the rip.  Smith looked up from a stack of papers on his lap and swivelled around in the rolling chair.  First, he looked at the adolescent he had seen moments ago, and then at the second man.  He seem surprised at the addition of a new player in the game, but recovered quickly.  He dropped the stack of papers on his desk as he stood.  Smith instantly took the stance of an interrogator.
    Before the man could open his mouth, Taisto spoke. “You said I could bring him here.”
    Smith opened his mouth and closed it again without saying a word.
    “I brought the criminal to you.”  He smiled.  “I was just saving you the trouble.”
    The man arched his bushy eyebrow.  “Just what, young man, do you think you're doing?”
    “I told you that already.”  
    “Fine!”  He huffed.  “What'd he do that made an upstanding guy like you feel the need to assist us?”
    “I saw him attack and try to kill a teenage girl.”  Taisto stated flatly.
    That got him!
    “What?”  Smith leaned forward.  “When was this?”
    “Less than an hour ago I think.”
    “Is the girl alright?”  He was tense.
    “Yes!  I stepped in before he killed her.”  Taisto nudged the man.  “Tell him!”
    The man looked at the floor and stayed silent.  Maybe he should have given the prisoner a little more motivation to talk to the officer.  It was a little late now, they were committed.  He would have to work with it this way.  There might still be room for subtle intimidation.  Still, there was his word.
    “Where is the girl?  We need a statement.”  Smith fumbled through his desk drawers.
    The girl?  He meant Pamela.   
    “Oh, the girl.”  That was a problem.  He would never hand her over to them.  “I don’t know. She ran away, but I was a witness.”
    Smith looked at him as he with drew a pencil and note pad from somewhere in the desk.  “I see.”  The cop motioned for one of his companions.  
    Another detective, a younger man with thick brown hair, walked up.  “What’s up?” 
    The new man was a typical looking one.  He was the type movies always portrayed detectives to look like.  The young, good-looking, type – Innocent, but worldly at the same time. Of course, it would not take long for him to age, and loose much of his looks to age.  Humans always aged quickly, too quickly.  Alive one day, old, and gone the next.  It seemed a bit depressing.  He never did know how they could stand it.  However . . .
    “What is your name, kid?”  Smith demanded, but Taisto did not even hear the question.
    Pamela came to his mind.  She was human.  She was one of these, and yet, he was glad she was alive.  He did not hate humans, and he definitely did not dislike the girl.  Maybe his thinking was brought on because he knew so little about humans.  He knew enough to live among them on a day-to-day basis, but he did not know their feelings.  The thinking and feelings of vampires were different than humans, weren’t they?
    “Hey, your name, kid!”
    Taisto’s eyes snapped up from the desk.  “My name is James.”
    Smith scribbled on the pad. “James what?”
    He gulped.  “James N . . . uhh.” Making up a name had not been in his plans, though he should have thought of it.
    “Nnnn?”
    “Newman.”  Taisto finished sharply.
    “Fine.”  Smith moved to stand with them.  “Then lets get you to tell us what happened, James Newman.”  The young detective and Smith surrounded Taisto and his prey.
    The four of them marched to the back of the station.  Before they got to the back, Smith took Taisto by the arm.  The older cop whispered something to the other.  The young man took their prisoner in another direction.  Taisto frowned as he watched his charge walking away.  That would not work well.  If the prisoner was separated from him, he would never know what he told them.  Things were not going as planned yet.  The tables might well be turned in a minute.  He might he they prisoner, if he was not careful.  Taisto instinctively  rushed to go with the man he had been guarding.  Smith jerked him back and spun him into a room.  The room had green walls, one table, four chairs, and one florescent light over head.  Interrogation room, he thought. Without a word, Smith nudged him the rest of the way in and shut them both inside.  He was already wondering how this had begun to go so wrong so quickly.  They did not trust him, obviously.  Their eyes told him that much.  Now it was an interrogation room.  The thought of bolting crossed his mind, but he refused it.  This could go better with time.  Besides, if things really went badly, he could bring in the girl.  She could tell them what happened.  He had not wanted to bring her into it, but he would if there was no option. Another thought occurred to him.  What if she was confused now?  What if she thought he did it?  His throat tightened.  That would not happen, he hopped.  In the human world, they had to follow the human rules, or risk exposure.  That would mean, getting arrested would put him in a dangerous position.  He might be forced to go to jail, and that was not a possibility he relished.  Without being ask, he crossed to a chair and took it.  He would not let them know he was worried, not a chance.  He had not done anything wrong.
    “I will press charges against that man for what I saw him do to the girl.”  He turned in the chair.  “I also want you to charge him for assaulting me.”  Taisto folded his arms.
    “He attacked you too?” The note book hung from the cop's fingers.
    “Yes, when I stopped him.  He came at me.”  He shrugged.  “I won, but he started it.”
    More scribbling.  “You had a busy night!  Playing the hero, and fighting for the girl.  You should join the force!”
    The comment had been sarcastic, but Taisto ignored it.  “I guess.  But would you have had me ignore a girl in trouble?”
    Smith frowned.  “No, I never said that.”
    After about an hour of questioning, he had finally turned the detective.  He gave his story of hearing her scream, going to help, and ending up in a fight.  Smith seemed to believe him, so that was a good thing.  The only thing that worried him was whether or not the man was acting.  Men in these lines of work knew how to seem like they were on our side, then turn on you with out warning.  He did not blame them, it was part of the job, but it made it harder on him.  For the most part, he was confident that Smith believed him.  The detective had dropped the overall “good-cop, bad-cop” theme long ago. The man helped him fill out the paperwork, his complaints against the man, and they recorded his testimony.  If there was a trial, it would all be used as evidence.  He just hopped none of it came back to be used against him.  Smith was reading over his notes in silence.  The dull sound of a motor to the air conditioner, hummed in the walls.  Or was that a heater?  He could not tell.  The color of the room was starting to annoy him.  There was no color variation, just wall to wall green.  This room was plain and boring.  He hopped to leave soon.
    “So, you have no idea where the girl went?”  Smith flipped a page.
    “No, but why do you need her?  You have me.  Can’t you leave her out of it?  That brute put her through enough!” He had raised his voice, quite a lot. The sound echoed in the room.
    The man’s right eyebrow shot up.
    Taisto looked away.  “Sorry.  It just upsets me.”
    “What upsets you?”
    “What he did.”  Taisto balled up his fist.  “If you’d seen how frightened she was, you would be angry too!  She was trembling like a child when I got to her.  And she was so shaky she couldn’t even stand.  I had to carry her out.” He huffed.
    Smith tapped the note book on the table thoughtfully.  “I thought you said she ran away before you had a chance to get to her, and that is why you could not identify her.”
    His chest tightened.  He slipped.
    “Well, I!  She did run away!”  He paused.  “But I did help her out of the alley.”
    “Then you saw her face, right?”   
    “No. It was too dark.”
    Smith studied him from across the table.  He began to tap the notebook thoughtfully.  Every tap made Taisto’s chest feel tighter.  He covered the slip, but not well.
    “Listen, I’m going to see how my partner is doing.  Just wait here.”
    “Uh, sure.”  He agreed as Smith left.
    Yes, he definitely slipped.  The question was, how much it was going to cost him.  Would his whole story be questioned now?  Smith knew he was lying about her, that went without saying.  Most likely, he went to go compare stories with the prisoner.  Soon, he would be back.  He had to wait and see how things went.  No reason to panic.  He could still bring her in to tell them the truth, but that was the last resort.  Taisto leaned back in the chair and rocked it back and forth.  As a time passing event, he balanced his weight from side to side, seeing how much it took to tip the chair.  He was too good though, he knew how to lean, and when to move.  Balance had never been a problem for him, he was good at it, and good at pushing beyond the limit of gravity.  The doorknob squeaked and he instantly put an end to the game.  He sat still while Smith entered.
    “Well, mostly, the stories match.  He admits to going after the girl, and getting into the fight with you.”
    That was a pleasing surprise, he had not been sure what that man would say once they were separated. The threats must have worked.
    Smith continued.  “However, there is one thing bothering me.”
    “Oh?”  Taisto feigned surprise.
    “The guy says you told him the girl was a friend of yours.  You say you don’t even know her. What does that mean, James?”
    There it was.  Some of his words coming back on him.
    Taisto shrugged, “He was mistaken.”
    Smith nodded. “Yeah, must be.”
    Neither spoke again for a minute, they let the silence linger.
    Smith opened the door.  “Well, you are free to go.  We don’t need anything else from you.”  He smiled.  “Oh, but give me your address just in case we need to call you for a trial.”
    There was an old lot near his school, and luckily, he knew the address.  He spouted off the lot’s address for Smith and walked out of the green room.
    If all went well, and the man remembered the threat, there would be no trial.  He was free to go, and he would take the chance.  Since the stories matched, they had nothing to hold him with, even if they suspected him of something.  Already, he had spent enough time in this place.  He did his job, and he had taken care of it.  The bad guy was in jail, she was safe, end of problem.  A happy ending, he could say.  Taisto walked past the doors, and made it to the desks.  He was half expecting them to stop him, but no one did.  The door was almost within reach.  His hand went out for the handle, but he was too late.  The door slid toward him, and stopped him cold.  Pamela stepped off the last step, and was nearly inside.  His pulse raced, and he suddenly felt ridged.  Her hair was a little messy, but still beautiful.  She was bleary-eyed, and still looked dazed.  His coat was around her shoulders.  The girl looked confused.  She must have just awakened.  He took two swift steps and closed the gap between them.  Pamela grabbed his arm and looked up into his face.  It was not a look of fear, but a look full of questions.  She was asking why he was her, why she was here, and what had happened?  He would tell her later, but now, he had to get her outside.  
    Smith was not far behind.  “Who's this?”
    Taisto did not bother to look back.  “She's no one!”  He pulled her to his chest.  
    Pamela whimpered, but leaned against him with out resistance.  Her body pressed against his and he engulfed her small frame in his arms.  He felt her shiver. His heart swelled in his chest, and he felt something like rage, but it was not rage, he was not sure what it was.  The strong need to protect her consumed him.  She was still too vulnerable.  He could not allow them to touch her or go near her.
    Impulsively, he pulled his coat from her shoulders, and he slid it over her head.  “She has nothing to do with it.” 
    It cover her head perfectly, and hid all her features. They could not see her face now, with the coat in the way.   Even if they could see her face, they could not see enough to ever identify her.
    “Hold on, kid!”  Smith was closing in.
    “You said I could go!  I did what I could, but I’m not staying here any longer. You can’t hold me!”  He snapped back at Smith.
    Taisto felt her wobble in his arms, as if she was dizzy.
    “Tai-s --” Her voice was still so quiet, but he put his finger gently to her lips to silence her.
    “Hush, I told you I would take care of it for you.”  He put his cheek to her forehead.  Her skin was soft and warm.  He liked the touch of her smooth skin against his own, the feeling was pleasurable.  He could feel her breath on his neck.  This human girl stirred  up feelings deep within him, and he did not know what to do with them.  Until now, he had never felt these feelings for anyone; the desire to be with her all the time, to touch her skin, to shelter, and protect her.  Before, he had felt affection for people he called family, and friends, but nothing that felt like this.  All he wanted was for her to be protected and happy.  Could what he felt be turning into love?  In the beginning, he did not love her.  Something in him drew him to her, and he felt something for her, but not true love.  But the more he was with her, the stronger his feelings grew, and the more he wondered if he had begun to love her.  He chose her originally because of the feelings he had toward her, but now those feelings were changing, and becoming much stronger.  She made him feel weak, and strong at the same time.
    “But I . . . I -- ”  She persisted, but then stopped.
    Tiasto tightened his hold on her.  Without giving anyone another chance to speak, he whisked her back out the door.  Though she was walking a little, he practically carried her to the waiting car.  Her feet almost did not touch the ground as he pulled her away.  In one fluid motion, he jerked the door open and pushed her in the back.  He quickly jumped in next to her and shut the door with a hard slam.  Without needing to be told, the driver was pulling away seconds after they were both inside.  The limo sped away, leaving Smith standing at the station door.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Chapter 2

        Pamela rushed up the driveway of her home.  Her pace slowed slightly as she neared her house.  Right now, she wanted to collapse on the front stairs.  Her legs burned just a little, and she was out of breath.  She had run all the way from school.  Now, at last she reached home.  Up till just now, she thought she was in better shape, but running all that way had taken a lot of energy out of her.  Her pace slowed to a walk.  She glanced up at the mansion in front of her.  The house loomed in the sky above her, or at least it felt that way.  She always felt so small next to in.  I was two stories high and covered a large area of ground.  Like the school, it looked like it belonged in a book or a movie.  It was an old  Victorian house that had been restored for modern living.   At times, she wondered if her family had stolen the house from Boston, or maybe some old movie like ‘Gone With the Wind.’  Not that it mattered, it was still her house, even if she did not like it.   At least she had a place to go. Why should she complain?  Most people dreamed of living in such a house, big, gaudy, and impractical for a family of three.  Perhaps there was something wrong with her.  Truthfully, she had no use for such a large place as this.  But, home was home, nothing she could do about that.  Anyway, she had nothing to complain about, at least not about the house.
    Pamela stopped and chastised herself.  Why was she acting so grimly today?  She was being pessimistic about everything, and that was not like her.  She always made an effort  to be upbeat  and happy, yet she was  in a dark  state of mind today.    That would simply have to stop, she would not allow that from herself.   Pamela  marched forward with  the resolve to stop her  previous behavior.  Carefully, she opened the front door.  Entering on her tiptoes, she slid the door shut behind her, and cautiously made her way to the stairs.  If she was not careful, the servants would hear her.  They would snap to attention and fawn all over her.  Several of the servant were new to the house, and they were working to impress the family.  Her father fired the ones she liked.  She had become friends with some of the servants, but of course, they were the ones who were replaced.  Even now, moths later, she had no idea why her father dismissed them.  Sometimes she wondered if it had occurred because of her friendship with them.  Her parents did not approve of her mixing with those they considered to be of lesser importance.  Whatever the reason, it had been done, and there was nothing she could do about it.  However, she did not want the servants falling all over her to gain her approval.  That was a nusance.  Gingerly, she mounted the stair case and used the marble banister to support her careful steps.  Quickly, and quietly, she went up the stairs.  Looking down to the first floor, she saw no one. Feeling relieved, she walked toward her room.  Her room was at the end of the long hallway.  Once she reached it, no one would bother her.  The servants did not venture in unless called for. 
    Coming from a branch hallway, a maid stepped out into Pamela’s pathway, a load of towels were in her arms.  Pamela skidded to avoid her, but she nearly collided with the girl.  Her mind jumped back to the scare she received earlier that day.  The face of the boy, and his tiger like eyes replaced the maids instantly.  With a new sense of urgency, Pamela jumped back.  Her eyes were wide and her heart was pounding.  The maid looked at her questioningly.  Pamela's heart was beating harder as she tensed, ready to run, but not knowing why.  Thought the boys image faded from her eyes, the startled response she felt did not leave her.
    “I am sorry I startled you, miss.”  The maid said sweetly.
    “No, it was not your fault.”  Pamela sidestepped the girl, and then hurried to her room.
    With a slam, she closed the door with both hands.  Her breath came out in one long sigh.  She propped herself up with the door.  Her knees felt weak, and she was not sure she could make it to her chair.  Pamela turned her back to the door and fell against it.  Her breathing was coming in short, heavy gasps.  She shook her head hard several times.  Why was she so unnerved?  She allowed him to frighten her this way!  Pamela huffed in annoyance.  What did she care about him?  It was not like she would see him again like that.  The school was a big place, she could avoid him if she wanted.  It was foolish of her to have gotten so upset, wasn’t it?  
    “Still.”  She muttered.
    That look in his eyes.  Thinking back, she could still clearly see his eyes.  In the minute of her viewing that look of a primal predator in his eyes, she could even have sworn his eyes darkened slightly in color.  But, that was foolishness, a trick of her mind.  She gritted her teeth, set her jaw, and clenched her fists in stubborn determination.  There was no way she would allow herself to be afraid over such a foolish thing.  What happened was just a trick of some odd minute of paranoia, nothing more, nothing less.  For what she knew about him, there was nothing about him that should be worrisome.  Though he was mysterious, he seemed like a good enough person.  Everyone had some mystery about them, he just had more than others.  That should not be held against him.  All she was doing was being foolish, and even judgmental. Pamela walked to the bed, the head was against one wall, but it was centered in the room.  Her purple princess canopy bed welcomed her as she dropped onto it, face plunging into the comforter.  She crawled up to the head of the bed and flopped onto her feather pillows. Her eyes lids felt heavy, and she was tiered from all the running.  Reluctantly, her eyes fluttered shut.  Until this moment, she had not planned to fall asleep, but it happened.  She lie still and allowed herself to drift away.

                                                                    .  

    The room seemed to have been partly swallowed by darkness.  Only the moon light in the window provided light into Pamela’s room.  When she opened her eyes, she was confused for a moment.  How long had she slept?  She propped herself up on her elbows.  Could she really have slept until night fall?  Pamela glances at the clock on her night stand – It was nearly ten o’clock.  Her auburn hair fell into her eyes as she shifted positions.  Why had she slept so long?  There were things she had to do today, but now most of the day was gone.  Pamela sat up quickly.  There had been several things she needed at the store.  She planned to get the things she wanted after school, but in the rush of coming home, they had been forgotten.  All the brand name stores would be closed by now.  Perhaps one of the local stores would still be open. She knew there were local stores that were open until at least midnight.  Though she knew her parents would never approve of her going to a regular store, it was her best option.  She smirked.  Somehow, she did not think they would drive her there.  No, she would have to go without their knowing.  Not that she was at all bothered by the thought of sneaking away.  Though she did not do it often, it would not have been the first time.  As long as she was not caught, it would not be a problem, and she had yet to be caught sneaking out.  Everyone considered her a “good” girl, but she could be as sly as the next girl, if she wanted.
    Pamela slipped out of bed, and her feet gently sunk into the carpet.  She let her toes sink into the softness of the floor as she stood.  The darkness in the room gave it a strange feeling, yet it also felt comforting.  In truth, she loved her room.  It was her own, and her place of solitude in the house.  This was her comfort to living in the house she did not like.  She glanced in the direction of her closet and wondered if she should change out of her school uniform.  She quickly decided against it, for the sake of time.  After all, she did have to walk there, and that would take a bit more time, so she should try to hurry.  Instead of totally changing, she slipped off the tailor fitted blazer with the school monogram.  Pamela rushed to the closet and pulled down a custom made leather jacket.  She hurried to the door and eased the knob to one side, and she gently pulled it open.  The hall was dark, and there did not seem to be anyone around.  She eased into the hallway on her tiptoes, careful not to make a sound.  The house was well made, so fortunately the floor did not squeak like some houses, but it was best to play it safe.  As she crept forward, her eyes were keen, and she was alert.  Her heart was pumping a little faster at the prospect of being caught, but then, it always did when she was sneaking out of the house without permission.  There was a certain amount of excitement in breaking the rules.  Her breathing was shallow, but that was intentional.  She neared the stairway and scanned the upstairs, and the down.  She peered into the darkness below, but she saw no one at all.  That was rather odd.  Her parents went to bed early, but never this early.  Someone should have been around.  Even the servants did not appear.  Suddenly, a distant memory hit her.  Tonight, was the night her parents were attending a fund-raiser banquet that was for some organization or another.  They told her weeks ago, but it had slipped her mind until now.  Her tense muscles relaxed.  Sneaking out this time would be easy.    Still with a hint of caution in her step, she hurried down the stairs, and then went to the door.  A final look around satisfied her that she was not being observed, and she went out the door.  She clung to the shadows as she left her driveway and hurried down the sidewalk.  Her shoes thudded on the path as she walked briskly toward town. She was nearly jogging, but she held herself back for going quite that fast.  There was no need to over tire herself.  There was still a ways to go.  Even so, if she hurried, she might get back to the house before her parents even came home. That would simplify things a great deal..  
    The moon was a half moon, a ways away from bringing a beautiful full light, and it hung high over head like a light bulb.  The deep blackness of the night sky was dotted with only a few scattered stars.  The night air felt crisp and clean.  It was refreshing to walk at night, and also to walk alone under the stars.  It pleased her.  Of course, it was not so hard to please her because she found beauty in almost everything.  Pamela loved the sun when it shined brightly in the sky like a watchful guide, and she loved the moon in all its glory with the night sky as a stunning and contrasting backdrop.  Lovely.  She loved the smell and sound of rain as if fell like tears to wash away the sorrows of the earth, and she did not even mind a cloudy day.  Even clouds had their beauty and unique appeal.  However, right now, she could bask in the nights splendor. 
Her shoes kept clacking into the sidewalk as she moved forward.  She was passing buildings now, small businesses and apartment homes.  Rarely did she ever venture into this part of town, but she was sure she could find a store she wanted.  There were bound to be places open, she just had to look.  If it was necessary, she could ask for directions from someone she might meet on the way.  Her eyes moved over the buildings, but she hardly noticed anything out side of that.  Her focus was on finding the right place, and little else entered her mind.  In face, she had forgotten all about the incident at school.  Right now, she was blissfully unaware of outside, or past things.  She was not even taking into her mind that someone could be following her, nor that it had been going on for sometime now.  A heavy foot step behind her, then a can rolled from someone’s foot colliding with it.  Pamela’s eyes widened as the sound cut into her thinking.  Instantly, her mind snapped back to previous event.  Taisto.  He had come back for her, he would catch her alone again!!  This time, there was no where to run.  This world was not so familiar to her, and she did not know its hiding places.  More heavy footsteps.  They were falling faster now.  Her heart pounded and adrenaline suddenly spurted through her veins.  He knew she heard him, and he was coming to get her now, before she had the chance to run.  That was the reason for his quickened step.  She turned quickly to see what was coming, but not fast enough.  A large hand clamped over her mouth and jerked her head back.  Instantly, she began to claw at him and fight to run away.  His other arm circled around her waist, quickly pinning one of her arms to her side, and capturing her at the same time.  Pamela squealed and hit at him with her free hand as he dragged her backward.  She dug her heels into the ground and struggled to stand her ground.  She tried to shake him off.  He jerked her back hard, knocking her off balance, and she easily moved back then.  Again, she struggled to pull free, but she was already partly into an alley, and she was fading backward quickly.  He was stronger, and bigger than she was.  Something hopeless inside her told her she did not have a chance against him.  But, she had to keep resisting.  With all the power in her lungs, she tried to make her voice heard through the muffling hand.  Her voice was nonexistent however, even to her own ears.  For all her effort, her screams were not loud enough for anyone to hear.  She claw at his hand as he dragged her farther into the alley way.  She could see black dirt under his fingernails.  He smelled a little too, she noticed.  This was repulsive, being touched by this person.  Desperately, she threw her body forward, trying to gain back a little ground.  She dug her heels into the ground again, hopping for any strong hold she could find.  In response, his arm tightened around her waist and she felt her feet leaving the ground.  This new action had been unexpected.  He was practically running with her now, unchallenged.  Her eyes widened as the feeling of total loss of control hit her.  She began kicking wildly, but was not sure she connected with anything.  Responding again to her, he tightened his arm around her even more, and squeezed her mouth.  His fingers dug into her face and pressed hard into her cheek bones.  Her ribs suddenly felt as if they were threatening to break under the pressure.  Pamela let out a muffled cry and tears flooded to her eyes from the pain.  Suddenly, he stopped running and put her feet on the ground.  Ready, she was going to run, if she could.  He let her waist go, but kept an incredibly firm grip over her face.  She felt a little dizzy as she suddenly found her forehead pressed into a brick wall.  She started to fight back again, but heard a noise, like something being flipped open.
    Something cold pressed against her neck.  “Stop that girly, or your throat will never utter another sound.  I will cut you so you’ll never talk again.”  His voice was gravely and low.
    Pamela froze and shut her eyes.  Somehow, even before he spoke, she had already realized it was not Taisto.  This was a much older man whom she did not know.  This confirmation brought a new wave of tears.  This was a man she did not even know, somehow, that made the attack all the more horrific.  There was nothing to go by, no point of familiarity.  At the same time, she was almost glad it was not Taisto. 
    “Little girl, you look like you are lost.  Your cloths are too nice for you to be from around here.” He chuckled.  “And even without the jacket, this looks like something one of those Hawthorn kids would wear.”
    The cloths, she should have changed them!  Why had she not considered this aspect.  She really did look too rich to be here.  Of course she would be a target.  Anyone with a brain would have thought of that, but she had not.  No, she came here blindly, asking to get mugged.  She had been naive.  So naive.
    "What, you don't want to talk?"  He laughed.  "Fine, then I will just take what I want from you."
    His hand slipped from her mouth just enough.  "No! Let me go!:"  Pamela screamed.
    "Shut  up, you!"  He clamped his hand over her mouth again and hit her head into the wall.
    She cried out, but it was muffled by his massive hand.  Dizziness returned.  Her head might be bleeding now, she was not sure.  She fought the urge to cry. He was probably going to rob her and kill her.  All she wanted was to go to a store! Why had it turned out this way?  Of all things, why was she about to die in an old alley!  This was never how she pictured her death.  She had hopped to die after living a long, nice, quiet life.  Death should have been further down the road by about fifty years, not now, not here.  All the things she planned to do in life, they would be lost now.  There were so many thing she wanted to see and understand yet, but it was over now.  Until this moment, she never dreamed of her life being robbed from her, but it seemed too real now.
     The man jerked her head back and put the knife over her throat.   Involuntarily, she screamed into his hand.   She wondered if begging for her life would make a difference to this man.  Her mind raced.  There had to be something she could do to save herself.  The tip of the knife touched her skin.  Soon he would press it hard to her neck and the tip would draw blood, if it had not already drawn blood.  She could not see anything but the wall.
     Suddenly, the man let out a cry of alarm and his arms jerked away from her as if propelled by some unknown force.  She jerked slightly, and tried to look back, but could not, he was still holding her.  His body jerked away from her.  She closed her eyes, terrified, and afraid to hope things were stopping.  A box  cracked and the sound of wood fragmenting crashed in her ears.  Glass shatter somewhere behind her and a tin can was crushed beneath someone's foot.  A body hit a wall, it sounded like, and a moan echoed in the alley.  Pamela opened her eyes and turned around to at last see what was happening.  As she turned, she saw two figures.  They stood facing each other, arms locked in a wrestling form, and stance.  Her eyes widened as one of them was slammed into the brick wall twice.  Her body was frozen in place as she looked on.  One man, the one being slammed against the wall, was likely in his forties.  He had on what looked like a grey goose-down coat, and worn jeans.  Instantly, she surmised that he had been her attacker.  The other man had his back to her, she could not see his face.  The second man had on a long black trench coat, and the collar was turned up.  Vaguely, she could see the top of his head, but as he struggled with the other man, his face was obscured.  In the poor lighting, she could barely even guess to the color of his hair, but it could have been brown.  Her attacker still had the knife and he made wild attempts to stab the other man.  Almost as easily as a blade of grass would bend in the wind, he avoided being caught by the knife.
    Pamela pressed her back against the wall and inched away from the two.  The man who had been her assailant looked crazed and a little scared.  He was attacking wildly, like a rabid dog, but the stranger seemed to handle him as if he was moving slowly.  The man in the grey coat lunged at the second man.  In movements like a cat, the second man deflected the knife by batting it away.  And almost at the same time, he struck him in the nose with an upward thrust with the heal of his hand.  The older man howled and staggered back.  The younger man took the opening and rushed him.  The two crashed against the wall.
Pamela's heart was pounding as she watched.  It looked as if the man who attacked her would soon fall, but would that leave her in any better circumstances?  She had no way of knowing if the man in the trench coat was her protector, or if this was simply a turf war between the two.  It was possible that she was destined to be the other man's victim next.  She inched along the wall, her hands stretch out on either side of her to stead her.  Fear had already consumed her, and reason was not likely to prevail in her mind now.  All she knew was that she wanted to get away, she wanted to go home.  Still, she dared not run.  If she moved slowly enough, they would not notice.   She took another side step, and another, not daring to take her eyes of the two.  She lifted her foot and took another step, but her foot did not connect with the ground this time.  The round bottle under her foot did not support her, but flew out from under her.  With a slight whimper, she fell to the ground, one leg twisted behind her, and the other out stretched.  Her hair fell into her face as her body seemed to vibrate from the impact.  Her ankle under her instantly turned with pain, and she did not even have to think to know it had been sprained.  Pamela winced, but did not cry out this time.  She cowered on the ground hardly daring to look up.  It would be impossible for her to run away now.  Tears stung her eyes and fear flowed through her.  If only she had never come out tonight!  Pamela clenched her fists and dug her nails into her hand.  If she could not run, perhaps she could still do something.  If they thought she had run away, if she could hide, there was a chance she would still make it.  Her eyes lifted and scanned the surroundings.  There.  A large metal dumpster stood only feet away.  She quickly crawled to it and slunk to the other side of it.  She pushed against it and put her back to the wall.  Maybe they would not see her behind it.  Pamela ignored the thoughts of disgust at the filth she was in and closed her eyes.  If she sat quietly, and did not move, maybe they would over look her.
   
                                                                            

       The man swung at him again.  The look in his eyes was like a street dog's.  Taisto blocked his weak punch with one hand.  This was already becoming a bore.  Fighting this man was like fighting a child to him.  It was just too simple and easy.  Still, he had to make it look as if it was taking some effort.  The human was a bit larger than he was, so logically, it should have been hard.  It would be hard perhaps, if he were a human, but he was not.  Therefore, this was getting old.  Vampires were stronger than humans.  He glanced back and saw Pamela disappear behind the dumpster.  A few moments before, he heard her fall, so she must have injured herself.  He doubted she would be crawling like that if that were not the case.  His eyes fell back on the repulsive human he was fighting with.  Even though he had been holding back immensely, the look of fear in the man's eyes told him his skill had not been unnoticed.  Taisto smiled as he avoided a hit.  The man's eyes connected with his, and the fear seemed to grow.  Perhaps the fact that he was smiling unnerved the human.  Were his fangs showing?  Not likely, but something worried the man.  Taisto looked back again and could tell she had not moved on.  There was no way for her to see them now.  An even greater smirk crossed his lips.  With her eyes sheltered, he could end this much faster.  Without her looking on, there was no reason to let this fight go longer.  He had been allowing it to go this way mainly because he did not want to frighten her too much.  That problem was out of the way.
    Taisto dropped onto all fours, pivoted on his hands, and then kicked the humans feet out from under him. "So, what did you think you were doing with that girl?"  As quickly as he had dropped down, Taisto was on his feet again.
    The man looked up, bewildered.  "I-I-I was not doing anything to her."
    Taisto glared down at him.  "Is that so?"  He looked into the humans eyes.  "Then why did you have the knife to her throat?"  He reached down, grabbed the man by the neck, and jerked his to him feet with one hand.  "What would you have done to her if I had not come along?"  He raised the human off his feet.  "You pathetic hum . . . old man.  Would you have hurt her, and killed her?"  He had to watch his words, he almost referred to him as a human to his face.
    The man's eyes were wide, but he was silent.
    Taisto laughed softly, so she would not hear.  "If you had so much as pricked her neck with your knife to draw her blood, I would have killed you.  Your heart would be beating its last in the palm of my hand after I tore it from your chest."
    "What are you?"  The human's voice was shaky.
    Taisto smiled.  "Just a concerned citizen."  His smile broadened.  "And her friend."
    The man wriggled and kicked.
    Taisto lowered him so that his feet could touch the ground.  "I've had enough of you."  He swiftly moved behind him and struck him on the back of the head.
    Without another sound, the man fell to the ground.  His head bounced slightly on the ground as he hit.  Taisto turned, his eyes on the place where Pamela was.  The human was no longer conscious.   He was out of the way totally.  Perhaps he would do something about him later, but not now.  Someone else interested him much more.  He could smell her terror, and he could hear her heart beating wildly.  Why had she come out here tonight?  It was lucky he had been near enough to her her muffled cries.  No human could have heard her.  However, he knew her voice, and would have heard her distress no matter what.  
    Taisto glanced back at the man.  "Besides . . . I am the only one allowed to spill her blood, and I alone can pierce her neck.  Had you done it, I would not have forgiven you."

                                                                            

    Pamela held her breath.  Several tears brought from her fear fell down her cheeks.  The alley was suddenly silent.  The fight was over now.  She found this even more terrifying.  The silence was enough to drive her mad.  Footsteps hammered on the ground and echoed on the walls.  Someone was coming.  The victor was coming in search of her now.  She clenched her fists in her skirt.  A scream threatened to rise from her throat, but she pressed her lips tightly together and swallowed.  All she could do was wait and listen.  He was walking, so slowly.  Step. Step. Step.  So slow, so agonizing.  She wanted to cover her ears, but she worried her movement might draw him to her.   She wanted to scream and tell him to go away, but she stayed silent.  Even her heart was trembling as she waited.  If this went on much longer, she could not stand it.  In her mind, she pleaded with him to leave her alone, and to turn the other way.  She could barely breathe as she stay, curled up on the ground.  Her body was plagued by shaking and trembling she could not stop.  In some ways, even if he found her, she would be glad to a degree.  At least it would be over, the horrible waiting would at least end.  Tightly, she shut her eyes, not wanting to see.  Though it was not logical, part of her hopped that if she could not see him, he would not see her.  If she could pretend that she was alone, and somewhere else, maybe she could wake up.  Maybe this was a nightmare.  She had not ever woken from her nap on her bed, and when the dream ended, she would be home.  Pamela listened as the footsteps drew closer.  Desperately, she tried to calm herself, but with no success.   He was standing just on the other side of the dumpster, she could tell.  Step.  Step.  Without opening her eyes, she knew, he was standing before her.  She had been discovered.  He stepped in front of her.  He was so close, and too close not to see her.  She trembled even more as she thought of it. 

                                                                            

    Taisto stared down at the girl.  He could see her trembling from fear.  Something about the scene made his heart soften toward her.  The terror he saw in her made him sympathize with her.  Though he had never really been put in a place where he feared for his life, he could still see her fear.  What must she be feeling? And she must have been suffering in her now for it to bring out such fear.  Fear. Terror.  Being a vampire, such fear of death had not been a part of his life.  He had not idea what it could really be like to feel helpless like her, and to be sure of death.  He could not remember a time when he felt fear as he saw in the human girl now.  What a horrible thing to be put in such a state.  She looked so vulnerable this way, not really like herself.  He did not like seeing her this way, seeing her so vulnerable.  The look on her face did not suit her character. He took another step closer to her.
     "No . . ."  She whimpered, and a tear escaped in the corner of her closed eyelid.
    Her eyes shut even more tightly.  Her face showed the last of her will leaving her like a ghost.  Slowly, with all her hope drained from her, her body began to fall.  Tears trickled from her eyes and splashed in the air with her sudden fall.  She slid to the side, and her hair rustled over the bricks.  Like a dolls she toppled slowly onto her side and lie motionless.  Her beautiful hair fell around her.  Taisto stared at her, somewhat mesmerized by her.  He did not move.  Pamela cowered at his feet in terrified submission.   It was as if she hopped that if she was submissive and curled up at his feet, he would have mercy on her.  Or perhaps she was simply too drained to go not struggling, and so she gave up.  She began to sob, unable to control it any longer.  The sound of her voice was heartbreaking, so wounded.  She sounded like a lost child who had run out of places to hide and had given up to die.  He felt an intense sense of pity toward her.  He could not imagine the fear she must have felt.  That human had forced her into the alley.  She must have been so afraid as she waited to be killed.  It was quite cruel of the human male to do this to her.

                                                                            

    She could hear him kneel beside her, and she felt his hand gently move over her head.  It was as if he planned to comfort her, but she doubted she would be so lucky.   She wanted the slap his hand way and pull back, but somehow she was helpless to move. The man ran his fingers through her hair and then he brushed it away from her eyes.  He let the strands fall between his fingers.  A chill went up her spine as she felt his touch.  His hand moved to her shoulder and he gently rubbed her arm.
    "It's alright.  You're safe now."  His voice was a gentle but strong.
    She knew that voice.  Her eyes slowly opened and landed on black shoes and the corners of a trench coat.  Her eyes moved upward and finally landed on his face.  Taisto looked down at her with gentle green eyes.  His eyes held sympathy and tenderness for her that she had not seen before.   If it had been earlier in the day, the sight of him would have frightened her more.  However, seeing him now filled her with relief.  So he had been the man in the black coat, and he fought to save her.  A new rush of tears came, but they were not of fear this time.  She sat up and looked into his eyes.  He saved her life!  Everything was alright now, he was here.
     "Taisto!"  Before she thought, she threw her arms around him, and nearly knocked him over.  One of his hands flew back behind him to steady his balance.
    He hesitated for a moment, but then slid both his arms around her.  "You're safe now."
    Pamela buried her face in his neck and shoulder as she sobbed.  She was relieved to see him, someone she knew.
    Taisto rubbed her head gently, like he was dealing with a child.  "Shhh.  Don't cry.  I will take care of this, don't worry."
    Her mind told her to run or pull away, she knew she should.  But she could not bring herself to do it.  A girl like her should be more dignified, and not hug a strange boy.  But she stayed.  In his arms, she felt safe.  She could not bring herself to leave the shelter of his arms, and she was not sure she even wanted to.  He felt strong, and safe, which she needed.  Somehow, she did not want to leave him.  She wanted him to keep on protecting her.  But she knew this new thinking had been brought from her fear.  Right now, she was not thinking clearly.  She knew it.  She needed to calm down, but right now, he was her only comfort.  If not for him, she would likely already be dead.  The man was obviously going to kill her, she knew that from the start.  She grasped his coat and balled her fingers in it.  This night was not a night she would forget, ever.  Pamela glanced up to be sure no one else was around.  The alley appeared to be empty.  It seemed Taisto frightened the man away.  She relaxed and let her head fall deep into his neck.  His body was warm against her.  The cold in her body was beginning to lessen.  She closed her eyes and a well of tears trickled down her already tear stained face.  Her breathing was still erratic, as was her heart beat.  Though she was beginning to calm down, she had a feeling she was still a little delirious from the fear.  She could feel herself slipping into an nearly unconscious state.  The adrenaline rush was finally wearing thin, but it was leaving her totally drained. Pamela felt him shift her in his arms and lift her off the ground.  He was carrying her. Her instinct was to flail around wildly to force him to put her down, but she did not.    She strained to open her eyes, and her head rolled against his arm.  She tried to move, and to get on her feet, but her effort was terribly weak.  Likely, her resistance was nothing more than a slight movement to him, while to her, it took great effort.
    "Shhhh,"  He cooed.  "Easy.  I am going to take you away from here."
    Pamela went limp in his arms.  She did not have the strength to fight him.  Besides, he gave her no reason to fight him, nor to fear him.  Perhaps it would be best if she allowed him to help her.  He already helped her, it was doubtful that he would harm her after saving her.  She could trust him.  He would not harm her, she felt assured.  Yet, it was as if there was something he had left unsaid, a hidden agenda maybe.  She was on the fringe of slipping into deep sleep, and she finally succumbed to its.  She let him hold her in his iron like arms.  With her head resting against his chest, she could hear the steady beat of his heart.  It was oddly soothing and lured her farther into sleep.  Somehow, she did not mind this feeling.  She did not mind being held in his arms right now.  Really, she even liked it.  Her legs dangled in the air.  She was limp like a rag doll in his arms.  Everything seemed distant suddenly.  Sounds were muffled, and even feelings were not vivid.  She heard a car door open, and she felt him place her on something that could have been the seat of a car.  After that, she knew nothing more.  Her awareness vanished and she slipped into the sleep she had no strength to fight.  For so long, she had resisted the urge to faint, but at last she slipped away.
 

                                                                                  Chapter 1


            Voices blurred all around the school yard in an insain mess.  Everyone was talking at the same time.  It was like they had a quota of sound they had to reach by the end of the hour.  Someone who had voices in their head already would have been driven even more insain by all of it. There was laughing, shouting, and even what sounded like singing, but it all mixed together in an unintelligible hum of sound.  Sitting in the distance, away from all the people, a teenage girl sat on a thick stone wall.  She watched and listened as the crowds of her fellow students passed by.  Here and there she caught bits of understandable conversation, but very little.  Her eyes drifted over the peoples heads and rested on the large building that served as a school.  It was made from large grey stones and resembled what you would have seen in the movie about the Roman empire more than it did a school.  The building stood two stories high.  There were large pillars in the front where two great wooden doors stood.  The huge wooden doors looked out of place among the mass of stone walls.  Around Hawthorn Academy there was a tall and thick stone wall.  The grounds were accessible only through the mediaeval looking steel gates. A few small stone gazebo style buildings were scattered around the campus.  Though it was true that it was a prestigious establishment, it sometimes seemed ridiculously extravagant to make a school look this way.  It was positively rediculous.
    Pamela Pritchard sat on the wall of one of the gazebos.  Her back rested against one of the beams, one leg dangling over the side.  Strands of her rich auburn hair floated and swayed in the breeze.  Her hair was just long enough to pass her shoulders – her emerald green eyes sparkled in the few rays of sun that made it through the branches of a near by tree.  Pamela jumped down from the wall, her pleated grey skirt bounced with the movement.  She glided up the stairs gracefully and moved onto a bench under the roof of the gazebo.  Her eyes again landed on the many students who were rushing about.  She focused on some of the girls who passed by – they were pretty, and thin.  Pamela sighed and tapped her foot on the floor.  Not so long ago, she had been thin.  Lately though, she had been struggling to keep her figure.  She gained several pounds over the summer and could not seem to rid herself of them.  Though she tried, she simply could not seem to fully get her figure back.  In her mind, she had become far too plump.  It was not so much that people would really notice, but she noticed. She hated it – and she hated those girls who never gained weight!  Nothing annoyed her more than seeing the kind of girl who could do anything she pleased, but never gain a single pound.  As for being pretty, she had never really seen herself as being pretty.  If anything, she felt she was average and plain looking.  Like the old book, "Sarah Plain and Tall."  Come to think of it, that might have been a movie.
    Pamela stopped her train of thought. She shook her head and reminded herself that it did not matter.  She had other qualities.  It was more a matter of wanting to feel confident than it was wanting to be good looking to impress others.  Maybe she would like to be pretty, but beauty was not everything.  Besides, she was not really looking for a boyfriend or anything.  In fact, she did not plan to even try to get a boyfriend at all.  Maybe she would think about it down the road, but not yet.  In reality, she wanted to be friends with people, guys included, more than she wanted to date. Friendship was more important to her. In truth, it would not have been overly difficult to find a man.  She was a senior in highschool, so even if she was plain, she was automatically given a higher place in the social ladder. If she desired to, she could get an easy date, but none of that appealed to her.  Besides, she did not have the time for a relationship even if she found one.  She was going to go to college next year, and a relationship would simply get in the way.  She had been in a few passing relationships in her past, but nothing serious.  However, having been in a few casual dating situations, she found she preferred to be single.  Though her past relationships had not ended badly, or with hurt feelings to either side, she still found it bothersome.  There were too many things that went into it.  It was so much trouble!  Friendships were less complicated, so she preferred it to remain as such.  Being single was far less complicated, and she had more freedom. Pamela smiled and laughed to herself.  Some people would have said she was trying to avoid getting into a relationship for fear of the rejection it might hold in store.  Or they would have said she was covering up her feelings by saying she did not want a relationship.  However, for her, that really was not the case.  She had goals for herself, and she wanted to achieve them. Perhaps she would consider love and such things in the future, but not until she had at least gotten on the road to achieve her life goals.  Besides . . . she had not been herself these days.  She was unusually quick to be harsh with people.  Her attitude was not good.  Dating would only make her even more moody - not something she needed.  She needed to help herself get out of her recent rut.  No guy could ever help her with that!  Pamela’s mind traveled back onto other more relevant subjects.  The school day had ended, and everyone was either just getting out of class, or they were getting ready to leave the campus.  Though she could have left earlier, she enjoyed the peace she found in the distant gazebo.  She came to the spot often, but she was seldom bothered by anyone.  In some ways, she felt that this place would be lonely if she did not frequently visit.  Moreover, she preferred the solitude of this little space of the school over staying in her own home.  However, it was time to go back to her eery dwelling place once again.
    Pamela slowly rose from the bench and headed in the direction of the school.  Her eyes focused on the ground as she walked through the field of students.  Today, she was not in the mood for all the idle passing conversations.  To avoid being spoken to, she pretended to be deep in thought.  Most of the time, people would not speak to someone unless they could see their eyes.  Something in people made them want to see another person's eye before they spoke.  If a person was looking down, and not making eye contact with anyone, that person ran a better chance of being left alone. Perhaps it was an odd thing to do, but she was simply not feeling social.  She hurried inside and made her way quietly through the crowds as she journeyed toward the school lockers. Earlier, she left her books and black leather attache case there.  After a few more minutes of wading through people, she reached the long line of oak lockers.  They had been specially made per the deans request.  Though they looked attractive, they were over done.  Simple lockers would have been more practical.  Even so, it was nothing she cared about – they worked.  She quickly twisted out her combination and opened it.  Snatching out her books and slipping them all into the case, she readied her self to dive into the human sea once again.  She swept the hall with her eyes.  No one.  Fortunately, so she would not have to deal with crowds for the moment.  She wanted to be alone, and for now, she was.  It was nice.
She sighed.  Normally she did not feel so antisocial, but right now, she did.  In a lot of ways, it was not really a good feeling.  Pamela took hold of the locker door and began to close it.  As the door swung shut, just behind the door were jade color eye, and a face connected with them.  She had not noticed the boy until the locker door was no longer blocking her view.  Heart pounding, and eyes wide, she let out a high-pitched squeal and jumped back – though her scream was not loud, it was still obvious that she had been startled.  She clutched her bag to her chest in hopes of calming her heart. How had this person been so fast?  Hadn't she just looked down that same hallway?  She felt instantly shaky, like a sudden cold front had moved in. 
Taisto Koray leaned against the lockers, smirking as he watched her reaction to his presence.  Though he had been standing so close, he had been so quiet, she had not even noticed him.  She was not even sure when he had slipped into the hallway, and she definitely had not been aware he was so close.  Was he a cat?  He stood with his back against the lockers, arms crossed, and one of his heels hooked onto a low latch to prop his foot up behind him.  Perfectly posed, as if he were ready to have his picture taken in a magazine.  He stared at her with his piercing green eye. The collar of his dark, mint green shirt was unbuttoned and hung loosely at his neck.
He had dark blond hair, so dark it almost crossed the line into brown.  His hair was cut in short, choppy layers that were meant to give him a scruffy, punk look.  However, his hair was immaculately styled and looked it.  Everyone in the school knew he was probably the richest student there, but no one knew who he really was.  Nothing was known about his family, he was hardly an open book.  It had not been long since he transfered into the school, so he was still a mystery.  Perhaps that added to his intrigue for students, and added to his popularity.  Even so, it was clear that he was a person of good breeding from some well to do family.  Some speculated that he was really a prince who was from some far away land, and he had been sent away to learn other cultures for himself.  Truthfully, no one knew.  Either way, Taisto Koray did his best to hide his obvious wealth.  He wore cloths that looked ragged, but any girl with an eye for fashion instantly could tell that they were designer cloths.  The boy was typically seen in designer jeans made to look worn, and expensive shirts made to look old.  Clearly, his attempts were in vain, most of all because he went to Hawthorn Academy.  Only rich students could afford to go the the school.  To top everything off, he was quite handsome.  All the girls in the school would swoon at his feet if he gave them a second look.  The dashing senior boy was perhaps the most popular person in the whole school.  As for Pamela, she had never been fully sure what she thought of him.  While she did agree that he was both interesting, and attractive, she was not sure if she liked him.  She had not been around him very often, and spoke with him very seldom.  In fact, the last time she spoke with him had been almost a month ago, and that had been related to a class.  He had politely ask her a few questions about a class project.  She did at least give him points for good manners.  The boy seemed nice enough, but she could not be at all sure.
    “You scared me!”  Pamela controlled her voice to make it less shrill.
    “Sorry, it was not intentional.”  Taisto smiled.
    Pamela tried to hide her slight annoyance.  “Was there something you needed?”
    He shook his head, and several strands of hair fell into his eyes. “No, nothing.”     
    She stared at him, and he stared back.  She had to wonder what he was doing.  Why was he just standing there?  Did he have some reason for being there other than to gawk at her?  She knew his locker was not anywhere near her locker.  All he was doing was standing there, doing nothing.   He stood silently, staring at her.  Her eyes were held by him, as if his eyes were hypnotic.  Looking at him now, he worried her.  She did not like the way he looked at her.  It was as if he were seeing her as a predator would look at prey.  It was only a fleeting look, but she saw it just the same.  Never before had she seem him look at her that way, nor anyone else. His smile was mischievous and his eyes held mysterious intentions.  She felt uneasy.      
    Taisto unfolded his arms and pushed away from the lockers.  “Did you know that your name means ‘all honey’?” He stepped a little closer to her.  
    She stepped back. “N-no, I guess I didn’t know that.”
    He nodded.  “I wondered if you were familiar with the meaning.”  Taisto smiled.  
    Pamela's eyes darted around the room, and she intentionally maneuvered her steppes to place herself closer to the exit.  At this moment, she wished there was someone else in the hall – anyone at all would do, just so long as they were there.
    “I apologize.”  He bowed his head slightly.  “I seem to have upset you, but that was not my intention.”  He smiled gently.  “I simply enjoy such odd facts about life.”
    She forced a smile.  “You did not upset me, it is just that I am in a hurry to get home.  I will be late.”  Pamela walked backwards down the hall as quickly as she dared.  “I am sorry that I have to rush off, but I will see you later.”  She waved and quickened her step as she continued walking backwards.  She did not want to turn her back on him.  But she had to hurry, her knees were getting weaker.
    The moment she felt she was at a safe distance, she smiled, then turned in a run.  She hurried through the now nearly empty school.  There were still many students who had not yet gone home, but not enough to make her feel any more at ease.  Before, she had been glad she could walk home alone, but now she wished for anyone to walk with her, just to be safe.  Something in his eyes had totally unnerved her to the core.  She just wanted to get back to her nice, safe home.  Even going home sounded good to her after she had seen the look in his eyes.  A chill ran over her skin, and she hugged her arms.  He looked at her so strangely.  His eyes reminded her of a tiger who was stalking its victim – She did not want to be any where near him for a while.  Pamela ran to the gate, and the guard opened the large metal door for her.       
 
                                                                      

          Taisto Koray walked down the hall slowly.  He did not rush out as the girl had done.  It seemed his approach had been too fast. The young man watched from the large doorway as she hurried across the grounds.   He leaned against the doorframe.  Her brown hair floated around her shoulders as she ran.  He watched the way she moved, and the way the skirt swirled around her slender legs.  
Her smooth, pale skin made him want to get closer to her.  It was her hair that captivated him most, and her eyes.  Right now, he wished he could run his fingers through her hair and feel it slid through his fingertips.  Everything in him longed to be near her, to touch her, feel her, or even to catch the sent of her perfume. He even allowed his mind to envision her, draped in his arms – his fingers sliding across her forehead and sinking slowly into her hair, moving across the form of her head, then traveling all the way to the tips of her hair. He forced himself to stop the vision there. A little creative licence was allowed, but not too much. If he did not stop himself, he might find himself stalking her to her home.
She was incredibly beautiful. Likely, she was the prettiest girl in the school.  Everyone knew how beautiful Pamela was, except her.  Most of the boys thought her inapproachable because of her beauty.  She was shy, but gentle.  There was something very untouchable about her though.  It sometimes seemed she was too perfect to touch. 
He let his breath out slowly in a sigh, to relax.  In the pit of his stomach, he felt a fluttering.  Perhaps it was the thrill of the chase, or perhaps it was something different, he was not sure yet.  Taisto smirked.  But then again, maybe he was sure.  He had a reason for taking the chance of chasing her that the other males did not.  The humans were not as brave as he was, for one thing.  Taisto licked his lips, slowly and gently ran his tongue over his now protruding fangs. His new sense of excitement had draw out his long white fangs.  He watched as Pamela rushed out the gate and turned the corner.  He tilted his head to one side as he thought.  The next time, he would have to develop a better approach toward that girl.  Somehow, he just had to capture her, but he had a feeling she would not be making it easy for him.  Still, he had no intention of giving up.  He was not so easily dissuaded from such things.   Half the fun would be in the case!  It was worth it.  He would have to hurry a little, but he was confident he would make his deadline. After all, he was a Vampire!  He absolutely would catch her in time.  Some time he would find out how to reach her, how to catch her.  He ran his hand through his hair.  As he thought of her, he again licked his lips.   
    "Someone like her . . ."  Taisto smiled.  "Someone so beautiful must have sweet blood.  Perhaps she really is 'all honey.'" He whispered under his breath.
    He would find out, and soon.
    


                                   

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