Biology

{waking from dreams of my bite marks in your neck and fuck if I didn't like them being there, your absence from my bed a tangible chill...gone. You left...a dread settling over me as I realise you would feed... from a stranger?...teeth clenched, a deep growl escaping my chest} *Eyes flashing as I spot him. He'd do. Glymera shit would feed me whether he wanted to or not. Morals be damned, I needed to feed. End of…A satisfied smile curves my lips. He is wasted. I watch him stumble from the human bar, poor choice and follow, starving, stalking. A growl builds in my throat as I stalk, his scent disgusting to me but the pure blood necessary. Hating what I have to do, I materialize in front of him and smile sweetly, reaching out to pull him to me, his face lighting up as he mistakes my growl for a purr of invitation. With a seductive smile, I draw him down into an alley, and push him against the wall, feeling his body react and forcing down my gag reflex, running my tongue over the heavy beating pulse in his throat, fangs grazing as he moans, his hands stroking my sides and ass, my body reacting wildly, instinct wanting to fight, to kick out. Instead I strike, my fangs sinking deep into the throbbing vein and feeding. His cries are muffled by the hand I clamp over his mouth, not wanting witnesses to be drawn to his high keens of passion, retching as his blood slides down my throat, the taste nothing but ash on my tongue, but the strength infusing my starved cells and body is not to be denied.* {reaching out with my mind, using the blood ties to locate you... in an alley off Trade Street... the logical part of my brain saying I should let you go... You are not mine to command...if you had wanted to feed from me, you need only have asked. The possessive male in me wanting to tear out the throat of the motherfucker who would feed you. scrubbing a hand over my face, exhaling loudly...pacing the room, still naked, your scent all over me, the sheets still warm} FUCK TORY!! {pounding a fist into the wall, creating a huge crater there, plaster dust showering the room, jaw clenching, fighting the urge to kill something and I know I can't go to you, because if I did I would tear an innocent male limb from limb} motherfucking bonded male instincts....Not yours V.. she's not yours...she didn't want your fucking blood...she left...{pounding my forehead against the wall as I grind out the words. Willing my breathing to calm...hands falling limp at my sides...fighting the urge to scream] Smoke. I need a fucking truck load of red smoke and a vat of fucking Grey Goose... *Locking my jaw in his throat, feeding deeper even as his heart slows, feeling the pulse against my tongue get sluggish. I pause as I feel the rolling wet on my cheeks, thumb catching the drop and lifting it to my eyes. Tears. Why the fuck am I crying? For him? Fuck no. Why does it hurt so much? The thoughts bounce around my head like speedy Gonzalez on crack, losing the rhythm of my feeding and growling, the male a limp, sated and drained mess, barely breathing as pleasure and death ripple over him. I unclench my jaw and watch him slump to the alley floor, backing away, lip curled in self disgust, running like my ass is on fire, just getting away, hiding from whatever the fuck I've just done, fighting to stop my body from giving the world a playback and redelivering the goods all over the floor. Materializing in the hotel foyer mind in a blood soaked haze, I dimly wonder where HE is*

{turning into the alley off Trade, catching the sweet stench of lesser like the sweat of roadkill on a hot night. There it was, bent over the civilian's slumped body and it looked like the male had been worked over good. Poor. Miserable. Fucker. Materializing right up in the lesser's grille just as it pivots around to face me, cracking my lead-lined gloved fist into the fucker's jaw with a hard smile, black blood splashing my leathers, my fist a battering ram, its facial bones splintering under the relentless blows until the lesser falls, wide eyed, bubbling black blood through its pale lips. Planting a shitkicker on its chest, unsheathing a black dagger, I drive it straight into the cavity of the MOFOs chest where its human heart once beat, withdrawing the blade even as the lesser's body disintegrates in a blinding flash and turning my attention to the civilian slumped down on the asphalt, the male's face beaten almost beyond recognition, barely breathing, pulse weak and thready. He had lost a LOT of blood,  far more than could be accounted for by the beating. And then I see it. The fresh ragged bite marks in the male's throat. Fuck! Knowing instinctively Tory is behind this. Had she left the male out here for the sun? Or worse?  If the male died, Wrath would surely have Tory killed. Above all, it is the Brotherhood's duty to protect civilians...Fuck! The male had better live. Hauling the limp body into my arms, making for the Escalade to get him to Haver's clinic}

*A small noise, minute, the turning of a key in the lock.* Shit!!! *Gathering the sheets around me, I dematerialize to the room next door, listening through the wall as the steward shows the people to their room, exhaling and scrubbing a hand down my face* too close. I really need my own fucking place *chuckling, body like jelly from the feed, still buzzing off the blood, in the back of my mind knowing the male lived, for now, feeling him inside my blood. He was moving, no idea how but the fucker had survived. Maybe the lessers had got him. Shrugging* he deserved it. Rapist. *moving towards the new, clean bed and curling up with a sigh. Wrapped in the old sheets, thoughts whirling as the consequences finally kick in, fear filling me as I think of the Brothers. If the male died, they'd be gunning for me. I was good but fuck if I could take them all at once. Single? Yes. I had a chance. Together? I was road kill. Growling low, thoughts taking over, spinning their webs in my head, the vicious whispers of what if. What if I'd asked, what if I'd stayed? What if I hadn't freaked out and run back to the only thing I knew? What if he died? What if they came for me? What if he hated me? My eyes close tight, shutting out the world; the only sound my ragged breathing. The rest of life is an abyss and I am staring right into the centre of the consuming darkness of my own mind. Why am I regretting it? I'd done worse, much worse, and not batted an eyelash. But this...feeding...was always a problem. To get so close as to have someone else's essence permanently inside you. No. I hate that I need to feed. And so often. And from males!!! It tears me up and makes me feel dirty. And connected, linked forever to another. It's why I try to feed off strangers. Less pain after. But this. Feels like I am rotting from the inside...sick to my stomach, staring at the wall, mind and gut churning with darkness even as I drift in a waking sleep*

{Holed up in the pit in a cloud of red smoke, trapped by the daylight, drowning in Goose, thoughts dark and brooding}

*content on the surface as I play with the kitten, thoughts turned inwards thinking of him, the way he felt, his taste, wondering if he'll be the one to expire me when the male dies. Cursing myself for my weakness*

{Clothes still spattered with the blood of the lesser I killed... but I can't bring myself to wash away her scent...Peering, bleary eyed into the bathroom mirror, splashing water on my face. Confronted by the warning tats around my eye. Cursing under my breath. Is it any fucking wonder she wouldn't feed from you? You're cursed. A fucking freak. She'd rather suck on the Glymera scum she hates so much than taint herself with your corroded blood. Raking my hands through my hair} Fuck! Will the sun ever set? Feeling trapped… {Talking at my reflection} this is why you never get close to anybody, V. Cold. Detached. In control. Your terms...but fuck her scent on my skin makes me feel anything but in control right now...}

*wrapping the sheet tighter around myself as I inhale his scent, fangs throbbing, tears blurring my eyes as the what ifs fuck with my head again, wanting so much to take back what I did, would rather have his blood coursing through my veins than the shit I swallowed but no...I couldn't...I'd want him more...wouldn't be able to resist getting closer to him…wouldn't be able to face him when they came for me. A snarl rips from my throat as my anger for myself boils over, fists needing to punch something even as I chastise myself for feeling anything. Why should I feel as though I'm betraying him? I have no claim on him...and he has no claim on me...I can feed from whoever the fuck I want...and I want him...HIS blood...not the corroded, corrupt shit that now strengthened me with it rotten cells. A desperate cry claws from my throat as I slump against the counter, cursing the Scribe Virgin and anyone else that comes to mind*

{Leaning my head back against the wall, huffing loudly} get with the fucking program V. So she fed from another male. It's just biology, right? Not like you haven't fed from countless, anonymous, couldn't give a fuck about them females. Survival, true. {Banging my head back against the wall} So why was this female different, why did she awaken this fierce hunger inside me that craved nothing but her…to possess her. A hunger that scares and thrills me both at the same time. Curse the fucking Scribe Virgin for making us this way. Let it go V, and what if the male dies? What then? Will you be able to kill her by your own hand? Would you defy the King for her? Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!

*twitching the curtains, peering out, wincing as the last rays of sun flash over my skin, jerking it back in place...could I do it? End it all? Save everyone the trouble of killing me and just...go play in the sun? At least I won't fucking sparkle...I'll burn...gritting my teeth as I think of him. Could I actually leave him behind? Go to…wherever the hell bitches go and just watch him? Never speak to him again? Never touch him?...huffing out a frustrated breath, hands fisting in my hair as I tug it hard, the pain centering my thoughts a little. But I still reach for the curtain again, watching the rays die away as night replaces day and my world starts over still as fucked as before...worse now, the meeting taking place whenever and my life in the balance. Yey me!!! Fucked it up again...my hand slams into the wall, crashing through the brick of the new room* shit...aww fuck, Tory, you really are a mess. Why on earth would he even want to feed you? You're a murderer, a thief...a criminal. *growling as I dematerialize, itching for a fight*

Should I find her? Warn her? Tell her to get the fuck out of Caldwell and never come back? Why did that thought wrench in my chest? Yeah, who the fuck was I kidding. I was looking for an excuse to see her again and if I did, what then? And what? Drunk and stoned as I am now, could I control the animal hunger in me? I would scare her away...maybe that would be a good thing...no... Right now I needed sleep, clear my head. Maybe tomorrow I could face her...

*murmuring under my breath as I materialize outside Zerosum, eyeing the bouncers* suicide mission numero uno...piss off the Reverend *smirking as I push through the crowd, glaring at anyone dumb enough to touch me and snarling as I ease into a booth, setting my Glock on the table* Lets play...I need to hurt, Lavender boy...and you're gonna give it to me...*knowing he'll hear me, I wait*

{Frowning, hoping to fuck she doesn't do anything stupid when I'm not available to step in...}

*looking up at the female bouncer as her shadow falls over the table* <<He isn't here, Ty. You need a drink? >> *nodding, a little shiver of relief going through me as I realize I might have almost signed my death sentence. Dropping my hands into my hands, my growl audible to the other patrons* Maybe I won't die today then huh, brain? *knocking back the Absinthe, I settle for drowning my ass in the Green Fairy and waiting...for him...or...whoever...to take me to the other side*

{Cracks open an eyelid, face down in the sheets, empty bottles of Goose strewn around the bed, voice gravelly} by the sweet Scribe Virgin what have you done?

*Run...It's the only thing that comes to mind as I face the possibility of meeting my death. I watch the shadows pass over the spot where I left him, two things may have happened. The Lessers got him...Or he did. The owner of that scent. And neither fared well for me*

{Groans softly, cock rock hard in my leathers, still feeling the pain where she hit me and fuck wasn't I a pervert for getting off on it? Thinking about the flight risk, chances were a female like her would run. Contemplates speaking to the King about 'restraining' her in custody until the outcome of the male's life or death was determined. Cock jerking involuntarily at the thought of her captive in my penthouse... Fucking. Freak. Pervert. Yeah...hand drifting down to cup the massive erection straining for release from my leathers}

*Sprawled out on the bed, imagining his hands spreading my thighs, that tiny needle inking whatever the fuck he wanted into my skin branding me in the best possible way as only he could* fuck...that's messed up...*biting my lip* I'd die if he did it...it would be too intense, too fucking much to have his designs permanently etched into me...and then if he had to kill me anyway *rolling to my side, thighs clenched tightly together, core throbbing at the mere thought of him touching me, his earlier words...it had taken all my control to not pounce on him* I am so screwed...

{Pictures her laid out on my rack, thighs spread wide for the ink…for MY eyes only... Fangs punching into my lower lip, a rumbling growl in my chest as I see the needle penetrating that sensitive skin, mouth dry in anticipation of all the ways I would want to penetrate her...fangs, tongue, cock...} Oh sweet fucking Scribe Virgin!!! {Rubs my temples trying to banish all the erotic images from my brain}

*eyes clenched tightly shut as my mind replays every word, sound, expression...every touch I've ever received from him, moisture pooling between my legs, wanting...no needing to see him again, even if it is just to smack him...or die...shaking my head as I curse the Scribe Virgin for making me this way, nails clawing at my thighs as I fight back the arousal, knowing it will do me no damn good to be this turned on. Can't really fight off Lessers or Brothers if you're horny as hell. Growling, fisting a hand in my long hair, I do the only thing I know to get rid of it...sit in a freezing cold shower...for hours...not that it will actually work*

{Throws a towel around my neck and hits the gym, intending to run myself into the ground to the blaring beat of hard core rap in an effort to take the edge off my frustration}

*resting my head against the wall as I curl in the corner of the shower, watching the water ripple down my ink, intently thinking about him...so much so I can see him as he pounds out a heavy beat on the treadmill, legs working tirelessly. The image is so vivid, I jerk in shock as it fills my head, playing out like a movie. I watch, unable to look away as he punishes his body, shivering under the water*

{wiping the sweat from my brow with my bicep, never breaking stride on the treadmill as I try not to think about where she is now… alone, afraid, despite the front. Cursing the way we parted...how she lashed out at me. Fuck, could I stay away? If I saw her tomorrow, I knew I would probably cave and do the tat and fuck the consequences and to hell with the death sentence hanging over her head} Fuck me!

*frowning as the connection is cut off, wondering whether what I just saw was real or just my imagination, my body burning again just from the sight of him. If I died...I'd never ever see him again. It was almost enough to make me run then and there, just up and leave and never come back. But that presented the same problem. A lack of V. Laughing softly at the ridiculous notion, running my hands down the scarred but imageless expanse of my thighs, knowing I would have to get the tats done before I left...had to*

*The only place where I am guaranteed to find a reason to fuck someone up. Screamer's was my second choice when the Rehv was unavailable to fuck with and it didn't fail me now. I saunter in, hips swaying to the heavy beat, lip permanently curled as males reach for me, their breath heavy on my neck, their hands coasting over me, watching them flinch as they touch the firm shape of Glock or daggers instead of skin, eyes wide with shock. Laughing low, I make my way through the crowd, the females tripping over themselves to avoid me, dragging their whipped males with them. See that was the thing about being mated. You turned fucking soft. You live for another person and it lessens who you are. I'd tried it. I knew. You make someone else your whole life? You lose yours. The bartender eyes me, his gaze intent with the heat that I usually associate with anger, but in this males case, it was a clear signal that he wanted something. And if he went for it, he was going to find my blade buried hilt deep in his groin. We'd see how much he wanted me then. With a tight smile, I order, grabbing the bottle before he can pour the shot and slapping the bills down on the table. More than enough to cover it thanks to my takeaway male the previous night. The Glymera were loaded. And his wallet was lying there all helpless. What's a girl to do? Baring my fangs in some semblance of a grin at the bartender, I make my way into the shadows, leaning back in a chair and watching, from my corner, the interactions. The drugs, the females, the lies, the hate. All these found in one place. I love it. Taking a swig of the Goose, I settle back to drown*

*Stretching slowly, cracking my shoulders and kicking out the multiple kinks in my limbs, I pull on my leathers, an oversized tee and my boots, loading my body with my blades and dematerializing downtown. If trouble won't come to me, I go to it. With a fangy smile I head towards the park, usually a haunt for the weird, pale and smelly, and lurk...waiting…My head snaps up as a twig snaps beneath someone's foot and I drag a deep breath into my lungs, hissing softly at the sickly sweet scent that stalks the combined scents of a human female and a civilian male. My blades are silent as they drop into my palms, feet balanced as I lean against the tree, tapping the heavy metal against my thigh as I wait for the couple to walk past, the male looking at me startled as he catches my scent. I pin him with a glare that silences his whimpers and sends him hurrying his date away. Shaking my head at the idiocy of walking through the park unarmed and with no protection...stupid things, thinking they are safe. Taking a deep bored breath, I step out slowly and smile into the face of what people like to call evil. But this wasn't evil. This was mini evil. I'd stared into the abyss of the Omega himself and seen the purest evil known to anyone. This lesser is new, but he is fast as he kicks out at my knees, catching me in the thigh instead as he miscalculates and I stab my blade into his eye, watching the black blood flow over my fingers as I wrench it out, flicking my hand and settling into a crouch, delivering a roundhouse kick to his jaw, flooring him and planting my boot on his chest* well hello there beautiful...Clairol not treating you right? *indicating his roots with a nod of my head* you should try another brand...I'm sure something will work for you...or, I can send you home to daddy *smirking as I plant my blade into his chest, seconds too late as his arm comes up, the point of his knife dragging deep into my cheek and down my jaw, laying me open to the bone. Screaming out in fury, I send my fists crashing into his face as he turns to ash* FUCK!!!! *snarling at the pain that rips its way through my face, I don't hear the others until they are on me, their hands gripping me tight as they work me over, my body jerking from the force of their hits, like sledgehammers over every part of me. Baring my fangs, I strike at the one closest to me and bite deep, snapping my head back and ripping his throat open, spitting and cursing, kicking back, freeing my legs and knocking my shoulder into the chest of one behind me. With an arm free, I wrench myself from their hold and spin to face them…four...not too many...but old. Older than the one I took out. With blood streaming down my face, saturating my shirt, I growl* Hello boys...

*They had fucked my shit up. That's the best I can come up with as I walk unsteadily through the streets. Mentally I catalogue the extent of my injuries. Three broken ribs, fractured cheek and jaw, cheek laid open to bone, dislocated shoulder, multiple lacerations. I can tell I'm not the prettiest of pictures by the looks on shocked faces when I pass them or catch a glimpse in a shop window. I have to get home. Too weak to dematerialize, walking is the only option and every step sends not so sexy pain shooting through me. My cheek throbs with every breath I take, blood slowing to a steady trickle, turning my blue shirt black. They'd got the jump on me and I am pissed as hell. Didn't matter that I'd sent them wherever the fuck they went. It just mattered that for some reason I'd been too distracted to notice the ugly fuckers coming up behind me. Sighing heavily, I drag my feet into the lobby of the hotel and head for the elevator, ignoring the confused, scared and concerned looks of the humans and slumping down in the corner the minute the doors close. I would need to feed. Again. Or I would never heal fast enough to run when the time came. And this time I wouldn't drain the bastard. I'd take two and then split the feed. More painful for me, but they'd be alive. The elevator sidles to a stop and I ease myself onto my feet and head for my room, opening the door with a pin and slipping inside. First stop. Bed. I needed to sleep some and then I'd hunt for food. Yes. Bed*

*snarling in pain, the needle threading through my cheek, biting into the raw skin* Fuck...I'm a warrior not a fucking seamstress…*the surgical wire pulls tight as I tug on it, biting my lip, ribs aching as I move my arm to thread it through my skin, stringing the pieces together* I'm going to look like Frankenstein!! Fucking lessers...*eyes narrowed in the mirror as I watch my own movements carefully, trying not to poke out my eye, my stomach growling at me for attention* In a minute. We'll hunt in a minute *rolling my eyes at the fact that I'm talking to my stomach, I tie off the stitches and head for the shower wanting to at least be a blood-free Frankenstein, cranking up the volume on my iPod, dancing slightly as Limp Bizkit starts up, I turn the heat up full blast and step under the spray hissing as the boiling water runs into the cuts and caresses my sore muscles, tears filling my eyes as it burns the raw hole in my cheek*