She didn't know it at the time, but it began when the tall guy with the awful tattoos bit her. She threw him aside in disgust, but it was too late: he was going to turn.

It had been almost a century since she turned anyone, but she remembered all the etiquette. So the first thing she did was break all of it, leaving him to wake up in a ditch ten miles outside Chicago.

Then two days later, the hunger began.

||

They bumped into each other and the boy went flying.

In her defense, Ashlee thought, she had a lot on her mind.

"Sorry," she said, not moving to help him up.

"I'm pretty sure that's not physics," the boy said, staring at the sky. He seemed perfectly happy with lying on the filthy sidewalk. Chicagoans had gotten weirder since the 1920s, apparently. "How'd you do that?"

"Magic," Ashlee said. "Actually, no, robotics."

"No, but seriously."

"That sidewalk is really dirty," Ashlee said. "Shouldn't you be standing up?"

He looked around like he'd just noticed they were on a filthy back street. "Oh. Probably." He held out a hand.

She stared.

"Help me up," he said impatiently. He seemed to think she had some kind of responsibility towards him.

He did look pathetic, though, still lying on the ground. She sighed and picked him up, setting him on his feet without anything remotely resembling gentleness.

"Awesome," he said. "Do you take steroids, or something?"

"I told you," Ashlee said, "it's magic. Are we done here?"

"Want to go out?"

Oh, that was the last straw. Humans, honestly. "No," Ashlee said, and turned to stalk away.

The effect was somewhat ruined by her tripping over her own feet, but at least the kid didn't try to follow her.

||

Two days later, she was drinking from a decently compliant would-be mugger when the boy said, "Oh, holy shit."

"You again?" she said, dropping the mugger to the ground. He groaned pitifully; she ignored him. He'd live, which was fairly generous of her, all things considered. "Are you following me?"

"I live around here," the boy said. "Are you following me?"

"I have better things to do, thanks."

The boy's eyes strayed to the mugger. "Apparently."

It had already been a long night and she was impatient, so she didn't waste time with a thrall. She just sped over and wrapped a hand around his neck. "Don't approach me again."

The boy wheezed and pointed. Did he have no sense of self-preservation? Well, if he didn't even know now to lie around on sidewalks, probably not. "What?" she said poisonously, letting go of him.

"That's my building's back door," the boy said. "Honestly, I just wanted to go home. You were at my building's front door the other night. What's going on?"

Which was when she remembered Simpson's warning and said, "Oh, fuck."

"Are you okay?" the boy said. "You look green. Do vampires puke?"

"I have to go inside," Ashlee said.

"Sure, okay," Pete said. "See you later, since you keep showing up."

"No," Ashlee snarled. The boy's eyes widened. She would have retracted her fangs, except right then, she wasn't sure she could. "Invite me in."

"Um," the boy said.

"Invite. Me. In."

"Yeah, okay," the boy said. "Come in, really, it's great, I'm on the fifth floor and I have a couch and everything."

Ashlee sped in and kicked his front door down. The tightness in her gut, the hunger that had dogged her for days, finally died.

"You," she said when the boy finally got to his apartment, "what's your name?"

"Pete Wentz," the boy said. "That was my door, you know."

"I don't care," Ashlee said. "I'll buy you a new one, whatever. Your closest friends. Describe them."

"Short and soft and red-haired, tall and stoned and tattooed," Pete said. He frowned. "And a hermit, lately. Travis, I mean. The tall one."

Ashlee sniffed. This place didn't carry his scent, but that didn't mean much. Human scents faded quickly. "He's a vampire," she said. "Your friend. You need to call him and have him come over here before dawn."

Pete laughed. "Good one. No, seriously, what's going on?"

"I turned your friend," Ashlee said. "Don't look at me like that. It was an accident. Just – call him, okay?"

"You're really bad at people, aren't you?" Pete said. "Fine, I'll call him. But like, sit down or something. You're making me nervous."

Ashlee sat down and crossed and uncrossed her legs. The uneasiness of the past few days was fading now that she knew what was going on. It was an unfortunate side effect of turning a human: the vampire doing the turning (Ashlee was never, ever, ever going to use 'sire', ever) felt older for days. She should have remembered, but – it had been a long time.

Pete frowned at her but, fortunately for him, didn't say anything. Instead he pulled out his phone. "Yo, Travie. Yeah, I know, never say that again. Look, are you okay?" Pete paused. "Okay, that's not actually – are you, you know." Pete sighed. "Have you gotten all vampire-y in the past few days? Because there's a vampire sitting in my apartment right now saying you have. Uh-huh. Okay. So, could you come over? Because I don't think she's going away until you do."

He hung the phone up. "He says he's going to kill both of us."

"He won't," Ashlee said. "He'll have fed by now."

Pete's expression changed like she'd killed his parents in front of him. "Are you saying he's killed people?"

"No! I'm -" Her awkwardness was coming back. This was why she avoided humans. "I'm saying he'll be drinking blood. We don't get desperate for blood. That's not how it works. We just get hungry. We're not animals."

"Oh." Pete sat down cross-legged on the floor. Ashlee couldn't blame him. She probably wouldn't share a couch with herself, either. "So, are werewolves evil killing machines, or is that an exaggeration too?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ashlee said. "Werewolves don't exist."

The surprise on his face made her smile slightly. Human mythology was so much funnier on the supernatural side of things.

"Who do you fight to the death, then?"

Okay, less funny. "No one," she said. "When will your friend be here?"

Pete shrugged. "He's taking the train. It could be awhile."

She stood up and started pacing. She didn't even pace, normally, but she couldn't look at him right now. It would be embarrassing for both of them if she made an idiot of herself just because she wasn't used to being around –

And then she tripped over a chew toy and broke her fall with his coffee table. Which she also broke.

Wonderful.

"This is ridiculous," she said, sitting on the floor so she couldn't break anything else.

"How old are you?" Pete said.

She turned and glared at him. He shrugged unapologetically. "You're in my house and you turned my friend. I think I have a right to know."

"That's very human of you," she said. It sounded like the insult it very definitely was.

"Okay," he said. "Fine. I still want to know."

"Three hundred," she said. "Give or take a decade. Satisfied?"

"Not really." He tilted his head, looking at her. "You don't look three hundred."

"We don't age, you -" She stopped herself just in time, literally biting her tongue. It wouldn't do any good to insult him, and she wasn't going to give her kind a bad name just because he didn't know how to keep his mouth shut.

"No, I mean." He shrugged. "I just figured, you know, an old vampire would be better at people. Wait, is three hundred old?"

"I'm not giving you Vampires 101 while we wait for your friend," Ashlee said.

The truth was, three hundred was old – and she'd gotten to be that way by staying away from people, mostly. Which was why she was so awkward now. But that was a pitiable kind of statement to make, and she was going to keep quiet about it.

"There's nothing else to do," he said. It wasn't actually false, but she found herself glaring anyway.

"I should have just killed your friend."

She regretted it almost instantly. His face closed in on himself, and he stood up and walked away from her.

"Amuse yourself," he said over his shoulder. "You won't be able to stay long after Travis gets here."

"Is that a threat?"

He didn't bother answering.

Forty incredibly slow minutes passed before the buzzer sounded.

Pete came out of his room and buzzed the person in without bothering to check that it was Travis. Either he was sloppy or overly trusting; either one didn't bode well for his continued existence.

Ashlee answered the door when Travis knocked. She'd been able to feel him the second he entered the building. "About time," she said.

He looked as relaxed as he had right before she'd started drinking from him, but she knew perfectly well how quickly that could change. "I had shit to do. Where's Pete?"

"Pete's not important," she said, sitting back down. "We need to talk."

"You're not talking without me here," Pete said, moving to stand next to Travis. "You've done enough damage, don't you think?"

Travis whistled. "How bad was she?"

"Bad," Pete said. "Why'd she turn you?"

"It wasn't on purpose."

"I bit her," Travis said.

Pete thumped his shoulder. "Good for you!"

"I wouldn't have killed him," Ashlee said. "Now he's stuck like this. That's not exactly good."

"Just because you're a stick in the mud doesn't mean some of us wouldn't like to live forever," Pete said.

His mood had noticeably improved. Ashlee wasn't pleased.

Neither was Travis. "It sucks, actually. Sucks the big one."

"Okay," Pete said, "but we'll make it through, man. We'll do – something, I don't know what. But something will work."

She narrowed her eyes. Just what was their relationship?

"I'm not going to turn you, if that's what you mean." Travis sounded fond, but -

"Are you two sleeping together?" she asked, then winced. She hadn't meant to be so...abrupt.

"No," Pete said. "You can leave now."

"Absolutely not." She crossed her arms. "We haven't talked about what we're going to do about the bond with Travis yet, and that's why I'm here."

Pete shrugged. "If you thought it was just because me and him are sleeping together, you're wrong."

"It's because of your relationship." The other option – well. There wasn't another option, as far as she was concerned. "If you're not having sex, that just makes it weird, not impossible."

"So how do we fix it?" Travis said. "No offense, but I don't want you hanging around here all the time."

"Offense meant," Pete said. Travis' glare didn't seem to have any effect.

"I don't know if we can," Ashlee said. "There are ceremonies, but we'd need a witch for those."

"Witches exist?" Pete blinked at her. "You didn't tell me witches exist."

He was weirdly endearing like this, confused and helpless. Human.

Ashlee shook herself. "They do, but I don't know any, and none of them would be willing to help me even if I did."

"I wonder why," Pete said.

"Pete, man," Travis said, "calm down. We don't need to make this a thing."

"You're a vampire, and you say it sucks. Call me crazy –"

"All the time, for good reasons."

"– but I think that's a thing."

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" Ashlee said.

"No," Pete and Travis said at the same time.

She told herself sternly not to feel bad. It didn't matter in the slightest if she did.

"So aside from witches, how do we get rid of this?"

"The bond between us will always exist," Ashlee said, "but it doesn't need to be this strong, and there's no – I mean no - reason for me to be drawn to Pete."

"And?"

"I don't know," Ashlee said. "I'll look into it."

"How are you going to do that if you don't have any friends?" Pete said.

She told herself sternly that he sounded more curious than intentionally hurtful. It wasn't the most convincing denial she'd ever made. "I'll figure it out," Ashlee said.

"She's three hundred," Pete told Travis.

It was a complete non sequitur, but Travis nodded like it made perfect sense to him.

"We're done, then," he said. Something about his tone told Ashlee to get out.

So she did. She didn't even bother saying goodbye: she just sped out, made herself a ghost. Dawn was coming soon, and she needed a place to stay. She couldn't afford to be picky, so she ended up settling for a vacant apartment three or four miles away from Pete's place.

It wasn't far away enough, not by a long shot. She felt unsettled as she lay down on the floor to sleep. Travis being at Pete's place didn't change the intensity of the compulsion to be there – which in its own way was more unsettling than the initial compulsion. She was more than ready for this whole mess to be resolved.

Vampires didn't sleep as much as they fell into trances that it took effort to be roused from, and half the time Ashlee didn't even bother. But right now she needed the peace. She pushed the hunger away, ignored the compulsion, and forced herself under.

The trance died at sunset. There was no transition, no easing into consciousness: one minute she was suspended in thoughtlessness, and the next she was fully aware of the hunger.

She ignored it and went to the streets.

In 1924, a witch named Leya had lived near the river. Her home was a warehouse now, and her power signature was nowhere to be found. She had died young, then – and Ashlee knew that searching for acquaintances who might have heard of her friendship with Ashlee would be a futile exercise.

She stopped downtown to snack on a tourist, far away from Leya's former home. To passerby they looked like an embracing couple; it only took a few minutes to slake her natural hunger. She refused to indulge the odd compulsion by continuing to hunt, so she masked the tourist's memories, healed the puncture marks, and left her recuperating on the sidewalk.

It was barely eleven when she found herself three blocks away from Pete's.

She practically growled in frustration. A human and a baby vampire, and they could twist her mind like this? They weren't anyone – they didn't have magic, they were completely unremarkable. There was no reason for her to feel like this, no reason for her to want like this.

Unless...

No.

There was a legend, one that was so old that it had been an ancient rumor when Ashlee was changed. It said that if a vampire reached a certain age, their minds twisted back to humanity again. Warped humanity, of course: a sort of softness that could take a century or two to pass, and was more intense than anything ordinary humans would ever experience. The legend, in Ashlee's youth, had been said to be God's punishment for unnaturally long life.

But few vampires lived past two hundred, which was why it was a legend, and not a fact anyone could confirm or deny.

Her strongest emotions had long since died. This compulsion didn't feel like an emotion – but what if she'd forgotten the worst of human feeling? It didn't seem likely, and she'd love to laugh and deny it to herself, but she'd seen the impossible enough not to discount it.

Feelings. She shuddered.

But short of falling on a stake, there was nothing she could do about the curse. So she walked the length of the city, from the northern suburbs all the way down to Indiana, speeding when she felt like it and walking on the beach when she didn't. When dawn came, she ensconced herself in a nice high-rise in Chinatown.

She'd leave the city tomorrow, she promised herself. Curse or not, she'd leave, and that would be the end of it. It had to be; that, or she'd go mad and throw herself on a stake.

Hanging around Pete and Travis wasn't an option.

||

The next evening she stood at the city limits and tried to convince herself to take another step. It wasn't working.

"You can't go back," she muttered to herself. "It means nothing. Leave. Travel. It means nothing."

It was a sorry day when she couldn't even convince herself of the truth.

"I wouldn't call it nothing," someone said behind her.

She whirled around and had her hand around his neck in the blink of an eye. It wasn't until she had him backed against the nearest wall that she registered his appearance: short, red-haired, chubby, with glasses.

Pete's other close friend.

She let go of him immediately. "How did you find me?"

"You're not that hard to find," the guy said. He straightened his hat. "At least, not for Pete."

"You mean Travis," she said.

"No," he said, "I mean Pete. He told me where you'd be."

It wasn't logical to feel her mouth go dry, but that didn't stop it from happening. "That's impossible."

He shrugged. "Tell that to Pete."

"I would, if I was planning on going back."

"You've been standing here for awhile."

"I -"

She couldn't lie to him. Or she could, but it would be obvious that she was lying. Damn it. "What's your name?"

"Patrick."

"Nice to meet you." She gave up and sat down on the sidewalk, ignoring how dirty it was. She could always get new jeans - and Christ, not caring about the filth? She was going native.

"You too," Patrick said, mirroring her action. "Well, sort of."

"Pete doesn't like me." Why did it matter? It didn't. Except – except it did. Damn it.

"I think you confuse him," Patrick said. "Which, can you really blame him?"

"Actually, yes," Ashlee said. "Since his presence is the thing keeping me here."

"I thought that was Travis."

So he hadn't put the obvious together. Damn it. "Right, that's what I meant."

But she'd spurred his thinking. "It's not Travis," Patrick said. "It's Pete. He knew where you were. It's his apartment you keep showing up at."

"You already knew that," Ashlee said, and moved forward, intending to put him in thrall so that he'd go home and forget he'd seen her.

"I figured it was just some weird side effect of you changing Travis," Patrick said. "But it's not, is it? Not completely. Hey!" He leaped back. "Don't!"

"This has gone on long enough," she said. "It doesn't matter why the bond exists. What matters is getting rid of it. I don't need you carrying stories back to Pete."

A second later it became obvious that she should have just sped over and done it, because he grabbed his phone and dialed Pete's number.

"No," she said, but it was too late and she knew it; Pete would be able to find Patrick, would know what he'd done. And Travis would figure out that he could undo it.

God fucking damn it.

"Fine," she said. "So, what, you want me to come back with you?"

Patrick ignored her. "Hey, Pete?"

It was easy to listen in. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. She was going to use the weird mind control shit."

"Jesus. She didn't, right? You're okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry, it's fine. She's here. Want me to –"

"Just get here here," Pete said harshly. "She's not allowed to fuck with you. You're too important."

Was he the one Pete was dating?

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Okay. Jesus, you sap, I'm fine. I'll see you in a few, okay?"

"Be quick," Pete said, and hung up.

Patrick focused on her, tucking his phone away. "I'm guessing you heard that."

"Loud and clear."

"So follow me," Patrick said, and turned his back on her.

He obviously didn't trust her; he trusted Pete to find him if it got bad. Or find her, actually. She made a face as she followed Patrick back. Of all the things she didn't need, overly emotional humans were near the top of the list.

Travis was lounging on the floor when Patrick led her up to Pete's apartment. "'bout time," he said when they entered, not looking up.

"You need to fix this," Pete said, pointing at himself and then at Ashlee.

Ashlee sighed. "Look, I went to the home of the only Chicago witch I know of. She's long dead."

"Meet another one, then," Patrick said.

"It's not that simple."

"Make it that simple!"

Pete flinched at Patrick's yell. Patrick took a deep breath and added, "This is a mess. We need to fix it."

"I'm sorry," Ashlee said. She wasn't. "I can't do anything."

"Will the bond fade?" Pete said. "You know, with time. Will it?"

"Possibly," Ashlee said. "But probably not."

He looked pale but determined. "Stay with me."

That made all three of them stare at him.

"Pete, man," Travis said, "that's the worst idea you've ever had."

"It's not." The set of his jaw was stubborn. "Hunger's driving you nuts, right? And it's got something to do with me. So – stay. We'll figure out how to break the bond, and in the meantime you won't go crazy and kill tons of people."

It almost sounded like a good plan, except – "You don't even like me," Ashlee said.

"So we can ignore each other. Whatever. It's better than -" Pete flapped a hand. "What's going on right now."

She doubted ignoring each other would work, if she really was getting...feelings. But that was the absolute last thing she was going to tell either of them. "Fine. Where can I stay?"

Pete tapped his couch cushion.

Well, she'd slept in worse. "I'm going to go eat," she said, and left. As she closed the door, she heard Pete say, "So that's a yes, right?"

If it really was the curse, then a few weeks or even months with Pete wouldn't help resolve anything. Eventually she'd have to tear herself away and deal with the consequences. If it was some weird aftereffect of her having changed Travis, then it would fade.

In about a century.

She didn't end up eating much of anything. Thinking about where she'd be spending the day put her off her food – and made her almost irresistibly tempted to run away. The only thing that held her was knowing that Pete would track her down. He had the stubborn look about him.

It didn't occur to her until forty minutes to dawn that he had to be exhibiting symptoms. More than he was telling her.

She made it back to his apartment in two minutes, and arrived even more annoyed than she'd been when starting out: she hadn't realized she'd kept so close to him. "You haven't been honest with me," she said, opening his bedroom door.

He was dressed – not, she reminded herself, that it would have mattered if he was stark naked. He did look like he hadn't slept, though, which did matter. Was one of his symptoms going to be sticking to her sleep schedule?

"About what?" he said, blinking up at her.

No, those were pajamas. He'd been trying to sleep. "Symptoms. You know what it's been doing to me – what's been happening to you?"

He scrubbed a hand over his hair. She very determinedly did not find it endearing. "All kinds of stuff. I can feel you."

"I knew that."

"No, I mean -" He shrugged. "You've got some serious feelings going on."

For a second she thought about killing him. Judging by his expression, he felt that, too.

"And I can't sleep," he said quickly, "but that's not unusual. And I'm – normal stuff. Mostly I can just feel you."

Wasn't that nice. She clenched her hands in fists. He was a threat, and she could eliminate that threat, but it wouldn't kill the curse.

And she was pretty damn sure now that the curse was what was happening to her. Them.

"I'm going to sleep," she finally said. "Be quiet until I'm awake."

In answer, Pete yawned. Great.

She threw herself into a trance as quickly as possible.

||

When she returned to consciousness that evening, she opened her eyes to see Pete standing by the window.

"You didn't sleep," she said. It wasn't a question. He stank of it.

"I don't a lot of the time." He shrugged, obviously trying to be nonchalant. "You're going out?"

She wanted to, but she wasn't hungry and the pull of the curse would keep her close anyway. "No. I figured I'd watch some TV."

"Wow, you really are old," Pete said. "There's nothing on TV past, like, midnight. Only infomercials and bad porn."

Ashlee had seen enough bad porn in real life to last several lifetimes. Vampires tended to revel in the obscene. "So what, now you're going to tell me you have something for me to do?"

"I have books."

"I've read books." More than any person – vampire or not – would want to read.

"Uh. Movies?"

If she gave in, at least he'd stop talking. Probably. "Sure," she said.

And so she ended up watching the third Star Wars movie at midnight. Pete was talking her ear off about how he'd love to have been there when the movie actually came out, obviously fishing for a "back in my vampiric day" kind of story. Ashlee wasn't any good at storytelling and had been in France during the 70s anyway, so she ignored the hints.

"Do you ever get tired of it?" Pete said at two-thirty in the morning.

She knew exactly what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "You should go to bed," she said instead.

He looked wistful, but he didn't disagree with her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat when he got up and left her sitting on the couch, staring at a blank TV.

||

Pete wasn't an easy guy to get to know.

She'd seen plenty of unhappy people in her time. Had been one, too, for the fifty years it took for her to successfully kill her former humanity. But he was intense in a way she could barely remember humans being, and he just – he felt too much.

She would have avoided him, if the curse let her.

To his credit, he took a full three nights before he waited up for her to get back from feeding and said, "So Travis hasn't come by."

The blood was still warm in her veins, and she felt herself for the first time in a week. "No," she said.

"And you're still staying with me."

"You're asking me what's going on."

He looked startled. "Yeah, basically."

"I told you as much as I'm going to tell you." She sat down at his kitchen table. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I thought you couldn't."

"I'd still be hanging around," she said, "but you wouldn't have to put up with me."

"And you'd probably go crazy and kill one of my friends. No, thanks."

"What made you think that?" When Pete looked vaguely shifty, she narrowed her eyes. "Spill. Right now."

"I did some asking around," he said. He was fidgeting, looking all of five years old.

She fought to keep her fangs in. He wasn't a threat, she told herself. She could snap his neck and leave his body to rot, and – no. He wasn't that kind of threat. He wasn't a threat at all.

She still kind of wanted to kill him.

"And what did you find out?" she said, noticing how cold her voice had gotten and not really caring.

"You're too old," he said. He wasn't looking at her. Smart. "You said three hundred, right? That's not even – I thought old vampires would be, you know, older. But you're not."

She fought to hold on to her calm. "That's true."

"So you're aging."

"You could call it that, yeah."

"Okay." He stood up. "You're not going to tell me anything else, are you?"

"There's nothing else to tell." The biggest lie she'd yet told, but he didn't need to know that.

"You're not a very good liar, you know," he said, and headed for his bedroom. "I'm staying with Travis tonight," he said over his shoulder. "Don't follow me."

She sat very, very still until he left. She didn't even realize she'd been holding her breath until she let it out.

This was too damn dangerous, and she couldn't stop. She closed her eyes, intending to set herself in a trance despite the fact that it was hours before dawn.

Her plans were interrupted less than ten minutes, though, by someone hitting the buzzer over and over. She walked over to it and pressed 'Talk'. "Pete's not here right now."

"I know," a guy said. "You're the vampire, right? Let me up. We need to talk."

So he was sending her babysitters now. Wonderful. She sighed and buzzed him in.

She hadn't had any specific expectations, but the lazy-looking guy with a lot of hair still surprised her. "Hey," he said. "Can I come in?"

"You're not the one who needs an invitation," she said, moving aside.

He wandered in and, when she shut the door, surveyed her with lazy interest. "Huh," he said after a long moment.

But she wasn't the patient type. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means huh," he said. "You're not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

That made him smile. "Someone scary. You know." He curled his hands into claws and made an exaggerated face that Ashlee thought might be a Dracula imitation.

"So you're Pete's friend?"

"And Patrick's," he said. "Joe. Nice to meet you." He walked into the living room, still at the same lazy pace. If he'd been fond of weed she should have been able to smell it, but...

"Yeah," he said as he sat down, "I can clean my scent up. That's why Patrick sent me."

"You're a witch," she said, moving to sit down across from him. "Consider my interest piqued."

"Patrick didn't know," he said. "But he came back and confessed Travis was a vampire, and talked about you. So you've got the curse, huh?"

"I didn't tell Patrick that."

"You described it, that's good enough." He levitated the pad of paper Pete left out on the coffee table to him and took a pen from his pocket. "Hang on, I have to take notes."

"Male witches are pretty rare, these days," she said, because the damned curse was making her feel nervous in his company. Being reduced to small talk was embarrassing, but spontaneously discovering vampiric sweating would have been worse.

"It's a macho thing," Joe said without looking up from his writing. "But sorcerers always die young, and we get to live to be old and wrinkly."

"And attuned with nature," Ashlee said pointedly.

"Hey, Chicago's got some nice parks. Don't knock it." He put the pad of paper down. "So. You want the curse to end."

"Yes."

"It can't."

Anger now. Goddamn it. "I'm aware of that, thanks. But I can't keep being drawn to Pete. He's –"

"Annoying? High-strung? Crazy?" She must have looked surprised, because he shrugged. "It's not like his friends don't know him."

"Human," she said. "He's human. And this – whatever it is – it'll last longer than he'll be alive."

"Unless you turn him."

"Not an option," she said stiffly.

"What, are you impotent or something? I heard it happened to some vampires."

"That's not funny." She let herself slump back into the chair. "I just can't, okay? I'm old. I was thinking about seeing sunrise in the next decade or so. And I don't particularly like him, and..."

"It'll get worse," Joe said quietly.

"You think I don't know that?"

"No, I mean he'll start to feel it too. And Pete's, uh. Sensitive."

"Just tell me what you're trying to imply. I'm not in the mood."

"He'll hate it," Joe said. "And he'll end up hating you. He already doesn't like you that much, since you showed up and were all cold and 'woo, look at me, I'm a vampire' at him. Which is funny, since he's the kind of guy to think vampires being real is the coolest thing ever. You must've been really terrible for him to be this unhappy. And suddenly wanting to marry you or bond with you forever or whatever isn't going to improve his mood."

"Because I want this so desperately," she said. "Just look at me. My goal in unlife is to marry some short kid from Chicago."

"Funny," he said. "You know I can't break the curse, right?"

It felt like ice water had been thrown over her – which was saying something, since her skin was always colder than room temperature. "You can't?"

Joe shook his head. "My grandma tried once, with another vampire like you. It didn't work."

"What happened to her?"

"He saw sunrise, and the human he'd been cursed on died."

That, on its own, was a threat. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I don't know, maybe something human?"

She answered that with as cold a stare as she could make.

But it didn't seem to affect him. "I know, I know, you're not human, you're old as the hills, all that." Joe waved a hand. "Fine. But you can't just leave him alone, and you know it."

"I'll see the sunrise then."

"Empty threat." Joe stabbed a finger at her. "One, you want to survive. Two, if you do that, Pete dies. And I'm not going to let that happen."

She wasn't entirely sure how dangerous he was; he certainly didn't look dangerous, sitting there with sleepy eyes and the obviously stoned demeanor that even a young, inexperienced human would have detected. That didn't really matter, though. She knew appearances could be deceiving. "So what you're telling me is that I have to, that I'm absolutely required to turn your friend."

"Pete."

"I know who he is," Ashlee snapped without thinking.

Joe actually recoiled. And well he should, she thought bitterly. "You don't want this for him," she said when Joe didn't respond. "Believe me, you really, really don't."

"I don't want him to die." Joe shrugged, trying for nonchalance and absolutely failing. "You have to do something."

"The -" She had to stop and swallow, what she was about to say bringing anxiety to the surface in a way she hadn't felt in decades. "The longing won't kill him. It won't kill me, either."

"Yeah, I can't say I'm too worried about you," Joe snapped.

She waited for him to feel sorry. It was a common human reaction. When his expression didn't change, she said, "I understand."

"I don't think you do."

"Pete's fucked either way. I know you're angry, but that's the truth."

"At least if you turn him, his feelings will be his. He's not – it's not easy for him. He's kind of." Joe made a face. "He's just got issues, okay?"

Ashlee wasn't going to say 'crazy' if Joe wasn't. "I'll ask him first. I'm not going to turn him if he doesn't want it."

"Just remember, it has to be you." Joe stood and walked towards the door. "And when it happens, I need to be there."

He left before she had a chance to object. There was absolutely no way she was going to allow that, of course. Even the thought was repugnant. Vampires didn't hold turning people sacred, but it was generally agreed to be a private thing.

If Joe insisted, though, she'd have to let him. At least she'd be free at the end of it. Once all of this was over, she wasn't going to come back to Chicago for at least a decade. The city hadn't improved nearly enough since its founding.

||

She sent herself into a trance shortly after Joe left, and stayed there until she sensed Pete's presence in the apartment. The curse was getting worse.

"Did Joe talk to you?" she said, opening her eyes.

Pete jumped and almost fell over, which was how it was brought to her attention that he'd been watching her. She frowned at him. "No," he said. "I – wait. Yes. Yes, he did. And no."

"No?"

"No, you can't turn me." Pete set his mouth stubbornly. "We'll just wait it out."

"Good luck. The longest lasted a hundred and fifty years."

Pete was too young and too unselfconscious to hide his reaction. "Fuck."

"Essentially." She tilted her head, removing herself from the situation enough to study him as prey. There still wasn't much that was attractive about him, she thought. But worse vampires had been changed. "If we're going to do it, sooner would be better than later."

"I never agreed to it."

"You will," Ashlee said. "Do you really want to live in torment for the rest of your life? I'm not going to stay and you can't force me to. That leaves you with one more option, and suicide doesn't look good on anyone."

"Joe could force you to."

"You'd still be in pain. Believe me; I've seen this happen before." Half of a lie, but that didn't matter right now.

"It's not fair."

"You're not a sulky teenager, no matter how much you might want to be," Ashlee said. "Life isn't fair. Accept it."

"Funny, coming from someone who cheated death."

She thought of the decades she'd spent away from people, her endless routine never being enough to save her from thinking about kissing daylight. "Not as funny as you'd think."

"I get that you've lived forever and you're wise and blah blah blah," Pete said, "but you don't know shit about people and I know you know it."

He clearly thought he'd come to some kind of great revelation. She waited.

"I just -" He cleared his throat and frowned, obviously frustrated. "You've got to understand why this freaks me out."

"Of course I do." She'd rather kill him. Damn it. "But that doesn't mean your fear is logical or that I can afford to indulge it."

"Indulge it, like it's – Christ." Pete rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't want to become a vampire. From where I'm standing, it doesn't exactly look like fun."

"Joe was pretty clear on what needs to be done."

"Joe can't force you to change me and you know it. Especially since you're suicidal. What's he going to threaten you with?"

The way he fumbled the term would have been interesting, if Ashlee cared about his neuroses. "And?"

"You're not going to do it."

She studied him. He was pale, obviously afraid. For someone so young, defiance took its toll.

Joe had been right; she did know what she had to do.

She held out a hand. "Pete. Come here."

He stiffened immediately, of course. "No."

"Come here." She smiled and reached out with her power. When she spoke again, her voice was honeyed, soft and kind. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

For a single, panicked second she thought the curse would outweigh everything else – that he'd be able to resist and cut the connection. Then his eyes glazed over and he smiled, soft and careless in a way she was reasonably certain he never would when he was himself.

"That's right," she cooed. "Over here. That's right, everything's fine."

His blood tasted better than any she'd ever had. Knowing the reason didn't make it any easier to stop drinking.

But when she felt his life fading, she forced herself to pull back and slash at her own wrist, holding it to his mouth. "Hurry."

He didn't want to, that much was obvious. But the thrall held, and he drank. After that all she had to do was make sure the blinds were drawn, lay him on the floor, and wait.

Well, and indulge in a hell of a lot of self-hatred – but that wasn't exactly new.

||

His waking was one of the calmer ones she'd seen. He didn't try to breathe, just opened his eyes and looked at her dully.

"So it's done?"

"It's done." She stood. "And I'm leaving."

Pete turned more quickly than he'd have been able to manage as a human and stared at her. "Huh."

It nettled her for. "What?"

"You wouldn't have told me that before. Why do you want me to know?"

"You'll be able to feel my location." Ashlee forced herself to shrug. "It's nothing like the bond, but you'll know anyway. I may as well tell you."

"Sure." Pete was frowning. "So you're just going to abandon me and Travis?"

"It's not like that."

"Isn't it?" Pete moved a little closer. His eyes were bright; he needed to eat. "What's it like, then?"

The compulsion was barely anything, a little tug at her awareness that she could ignore easily. She looked away. "Nothing. You need to eat."

"How long does it take to get used to this? Years? Decades?"

Decades, but it wasn't like vampires were known for their warm and caring maternal instincts. Ashlee snapped, "You were all ready to have me gone a few hours ago. Don't try to play this game. You'll both do fine or you'll throw yourselves on stakes, and I'm not going to lie and say I care either way."

"Do me a favor and don't leave," Pete said.

She blinked at him.

He looked back. The hungry glint was still there, but aside from that he looked perfectly calm. If he was experiencing inner turmoil, he wasn't going to tell her. Do me a favor. She owed them, and he knew it.

Well, then.

"I'll try," she said.

"Then I'll eat," Pete said, and sped out of the room.

She should have followed him and made sure he didn't kill his victim. It wasn't that he wouldn't be able to stop himself; hunger was manageable as long as the person had been full upon turning. But new vampires often couldn't feel life fading from their victims, and killing tended to be addictive. So she should have stopped him – she should have cared enough to.

She didn't. She left the apartment and went in the opposite direction as him, finding and feeding from three drunk young men before beginning her search for an apartment in earnest. From a purely logical standpoint she could have left and laughed the next time another vampire mentioned the curse. But one of the reasons Ashlee had stopped being around people to begin with was because of her utter incapability of being logical when faced with humans. The fact that Pete was no longer technically human wasn't really changing that.

So she stopped trying and searched along the Gold Coast for places to live. Just because she had to stay in Chicago didn't mean she was going to stay in a hole like Pete's.

||

He managed to go three hours without contacting her. Ashlee was a bit impressed in spite of herself. He couldn't get words through – thank God, some vampires had been known to have the talent – but he did send through a powerful impulse to talk to her.

She ignored it. He'd need to learn that vampires could do that – and that she was absolutely not as his beck and call. Besides, if he had any burning questions he could ask Travis.

That last sounded suspiciously like self-justification. She winced and tried to think of something else.

But he was persistent. The nagging feeling just didn't go away, until she finally gave up, stole a passerby's cell phone, and called him.

"Your name's not Phillip," Pete said.

"Smart of you to notice," Ashlee said. "What did you want?"

"I'm bored."

She sternly told herself she wasn't going to kill him. It would be completely self-defeating. "Play a video game or spend time with friends."

"Am I allowed to spend time with friends?"

"If you trust them. You've got five years or so, at least."

"I hadn't thought about it."

Of course he hadn't. "Well, think about it now. It's a little important."

"How about we get a milkshake instead?"

"What?"

"A milkshake. Me and you. We can, I don't know, bond vampirically."

"Vampirically? Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

It was a horrible plan, and she knew it – awful, worse than turning him. Worst of the decade, very possibly.

"Sure. Where do you want to meet?"

He actually paused, and she thought maybe – hopefully – something had clicked and he'd realized how much they shouldn't. But of course he didn't actually have self-preservation skills, so he said, "How about Coldstone?"

"See you in five," she said.

"I think it'll take a little longer?"

She surprised herself by grinning at the doubt in his voice. "Think again," she said, and hung up.

He looked rumpled when he showed up two minutes late. She felt – excited, intrigued. Feelings were pulling at her that had nothing to do with the curse and everything to do with prolonged exposure to...people.

For a certain definition of the word, at least.

"I kind of figured we'd be avoiding each other," Pete said as they entered the store.

"You're the one who called me."

"Guess I did." Pete squinted at the menu. "Am I boring if I just get chocolate?"

It was what Ashlee had been planning on; chocolate was still a luxury to her. "That was my plan."

And there it was again, the smile that made her ready to do all kinds of ridiculous things for him. She hated it a little. "We could be really good friends, you know."

"Sure, and sooner or later pigs will start being able to fly."

"Well, if we live long enough." Another smile. This had been such a terrible idea.

Ashlee didn't answer, choosing instead to step forward and give her order.

They ended up sitting at a table outside, looking at the skyline. Pete studied it with an intensity that Ashlee recognized. "You won't be able to see it in daylight again."

"I know."

"I meant -" What had she meant? "I had the same reaction."

That made him look at her. "What city?"

It was something she'd never told anyone. Not because it was a secret, far from it; she just hadn't ever thought it mattered enough to share. "Rome. My mother was British, but she ran off with an Italian man."

"Really? You don't sound like it."

"Three hundred years," Ashlee said, smiling a little.

Pete looked away again. "Travis told me to stay away from you."

"He's right, you know."

"Is he?"

"I'm dangerous," Ashlee said. "Not in an angsty, hide in a corner way. In a very real way."

"I'll take that risk."

"You're stupid to."

"I'm young," Pete said, grinning slyly. "Isn't that the point, cradle-robber?"

She couldn't keep up with his moods. "Right now I'm not sure what the point is."

"Fair enough." Pete took a sip of his milkshake. "So. British, lived in Italy. You should tell me about your vampiric adventures."

"Oh, God."

"I'm going to take that as a story opener." Pete leaned back. His ankle knocked against Ashlee's foot.

Ashlee focused on a point just above his shoulder and thought, with excruciating clarity, What in the world am I doing?

Fortunately for her, she never had to answer, because at that moment, the Coldstone exploded.

She was running away and yanking Pete along with her before she even registered what was happening. "We should call the cops!" Pete yelled. In answer, she tightened her hand around his and yanked him forward that much quicker. She kept her mind on walking as quickly as she could while still looking human.

The explosion wasn't a coincidence, she'd bet her not-life on it. Which meant that someone was pulling her strings, which meant that she needed to get back to the apartment she'd had for all of three hours and move.

Except when they rounded the corner and crossed the street, the stink of vampire hit her head-on. She stopped inches away from the nearest apartment complex's front door and felt her heart drop to her feet.

"I know who did it," she said faintly. "Call everyone. We're going to your apartment."

"But -"

"Now," Ashlee said, and tugged his hand again. This time, she didn't care how inhuman they looked: they needed to get away as quickly as possible.

||

Twenty minutes later, everyone was at Pete's apartment, and Ashlee was having to explain the only rivalry she had. "His name is James," she said. "James Blunt. He's one of the only vampires I know who's older than me."

"And less reclusive." Travis whistled. "Damn. There're twenty-two people living in that complex."

"Not people," Ashlee said. "They don't -" Get that title. They're not like us. No, she wasn't going to go there. "They don't consider themselves people."

"There's a shock." Travis leaned back, hands behind his head. "So what do we do? Guessing there are no vampire cops we can call, or something like that."

"We could always be the cops," Pete said before Ashlee had a chance to answer.

"It's been tried," Ashlee said. "Vampires aren't the world's most tractable group. It can't be done."

"Can't it?" Pete looked at her. His eyes looked almost like they were burning; he was angry, she realized. "You've been around for three centuries and all you've done is stay in the shadows."

"Which is why I'm still here. Vampires who hang around with other vampires get killed."

"Guess we're screwed, then," Travis said. "Look, I get you've got issues and I know a great shrink or five, but we're going to be up shit creek fast if we don't get this figured out."

She'd done plenty of too-human things recently. Avoiding the problem might be the most immature, but only just. "James will take awhile to get things together. We can take a day off," she said, and blurred away before they could say differently.

She found a nice, empty apartment and settled in to wait her semi-panic out. Pete, of course, was mentally knocking in less than an hour. She stubbornly ignored him until she could work her way into a trance.

The problem was that when she woke up, he was still knocking.

"Fucking insane little – leprechaun," she muttered, before looking around and blushing. No one was there, of course.

He must have been able to feel when she exited the trance, because he called her. "Travis told me to tell you you're acting insane," Pete said. "Personally, I get where you're coming from, but taking a vacation when the big villain gives us a breather doesn't really seem smart."

"He's not a big villain," Ashlee said. "He's a two-bit vampire who was still an angry fledgling when I was turned. He's dangerous, but he doesn't warrant panicking."

"I'd agree, except Joe called to tell us there's some kind of freaky magical black hole in Chicago right now."

"That could be anything," Ashlee said, fighting to keep her voice level.

"He did a spell. It's not."

Well, that was just wonderful. "How does Joe feel about vampires in his house?"

"We can't just meet at my place?"

"Witches' houses generally have better defenses set up."

"Joe's kind of...not the paranoid type."

"Trust me, he'll have them anyway." This city had no cultural understanding of magic. It was a wonder it hadn't already sunk into the lake.

"See you there, then?"

He had to stop being so damn tentative, so careful with her. "See you there," she said, trying for a neutral tone.

He hung up without answering, so she suspected she failed.

||

Joe was apparently doing his level best to hotbox his kitchen.

"The window's open, so technically no," Joe said when she voiced her annoyance.

"It still smells awful in here," she said. "And we need you capable of concentrating."

"Don't worry, I can concentrate. Pete's here."

"He'll be fine," Pete said from behind her.

She hadn't heard him come in. She frowned. He was wearing jeans that she was pretty sure were from the girls' section and a hoodie that had more neon colors than the average Vegas sign, and yet something about how he looked made her want to reach out and...

"Okay, seriously, if you're going to make out you're doing it somewhere not my house."

Vampires couldn't blush. Otherwise she and Pete would both have looked ridiculous. "We're not -"

Joe waved a hand. "Sure. So do I need to wait for Travis?"

"He said he'd be late," Pete said. "Fill us in, would you?"

Joe explained. James Blunt was a magic-worker, more powerful than Chicago had seen for at least fifty years. The Daleys still had control of the city, magic-wise, but Joe thought James had a decent chance of wresting power from them. "At which point we all fall into the lake, basically."

Pete was chewing on his lip. It was unattractive, Ashlee told herself sternly. "So...what do we do?"

Joe looked at Ashlee.

Oh, great. "I haven't the foggiest clue. I'm not a magic-worker."

"You could kill him," Joe said, "or try to, anyway."

"With what army?" Ashlee shook her head. "It'd never work."

"You're old and powerful. Everyone in this room knows it. We'd need to outfit you with some magic, but you could do it."

"The odds of me succeeding are so narrow they're almost meaningless," she said. "And I'd rather not get killed, thanks."

"So, what, you're just going to leave Chicago to James's control? Come on. Even if you don't care about us, he's a threat to you, and you know it."

He was more right than she realized. She didn't want to see Chicago under James's rule and wouldn't have even if he hadn't been a complete bastard who had a very good chance of killing her.

But before she could answer Pete said quietly, "She doesn't have to do it if she doesn't want to."

"She kind of does."

"Joe."

Ashlee snapped out of her thoughts and looked at them. Pete looked...oh, hell. She knew exactly how Pete looked. The idea that he could be protective of her was frankly ludicrous, but that evidently wasn't stopping him.

"She does," Joe said, "and you know it."

This was getting ridiculous. "So are we thinking about doing a full-on ceremony? Charmed armor, enchanted weapon, that kind of thing?"

"I can charm your clothes," Joe said. "Armor probably wouldn't help you enough. And you'll need a dagger."

Ashlee shook her head. "Not against a vampire."

"I don't know if I can make a sword in time."

"Oh, God." Pete buried his face in his hands. "This is like World of Warcraft levels of weird."

"Welcome to the dark life, sparky," Ashlee said, smiling in spite of herself.

"I could enchant a sword that already exists," Joe said. "Maybe we could rob the museum."

"Actually..." Ashlee couldn't believe she was saying it. "I know where we can get a sword."

"You do?" Pete said.

"I kind of own one. In a safety deposit box."

Pete mulled it over. "I didn't know they kept swords in safety deposit boxes."

"They do if you make them when the city was founded."

"You know a lot more about Chicago than you're admitting, don't you," Joe said.

That was a subject she was never going to even approach, so she just said, "Why don't we discuss what we're going to do about James himself? You'll need to put some pretty powerful spells in place."

"I can do that."

"What about me and Travis?" Pete said. When Ashlee blinked at him he shrugged and said, "What? I need something to do."

"Patrick, too," Joe said. "I'm not sure yet. If Patrick liked her more we could do a grounding ceremony, but Patrick's...Patrick."

"A grounding ceremony is lending strength and stability to a champion," Ashlee said.

"I know that," Pete said. "They did it on Buffy."

God save the twenty-first century. "It shouldn't be necessary. An enchanted sword will work fine.

"So that's it," Joe said. "We'll get started tomorrow night. I'll get the ingredients today."

"Lots of herbs, huh?" Pete said with a smirk.

"You know, that's totally the first time you've ever made that joke," Joe said. "And you're the first person to ever make it, too. Oh, wait."

"I'm a comedian," Pete said. "Hey, where do you live?"

"Not near you," Ashlee said.

"She's lying," Joe said.

It was counterproductive, she told herself, to wish that Joe was less talented. "A few blocks away," she admitted.

"Cool," Pete said. "We can walk back together."

"What about Travis?" Joe said.

"He texted me to say he couldn't make it. Didn't I tell you?"

"No, Pete. You didn't."

"Oh. Well." Another smile. A legitimately charming one. "He'll meet us tomorrow."

Ashlee wondered what it was Travis was avoiding. Her, probably. "We should get going. Dawn's soon."

"Catch you on the flip side," Joe said.

Pete was quiet on the walk back. Ashlee kept glancing at him – he'd seemed relatively okay at Joe's, but he was obviously sliding into moroseness with a rapidity that surprised her. She remembered, upon being newly turned, feeling like her emotions had been cut out of her. The anguish she'd lived with as a human was a distant memory.

"Hi?"

She blinked at him. She'd been staring. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"What?"

"Having emotions still. It's fairly obvious."

"I'm used to them," Pete said.

But his voice sounded hollow. "Are you? I can't remember what it's like."

"Believe me, you don't want to."

"You could talk about it," she forced herself to say. She was entirely capable of being – generous. Talkative.

"No, I really couldn't."

Thank God. "Well, you know, if you ever want to."

"You'd totally be the first person I'd call."

She took the hint and shut up. She was entertaining pathetically eager fantasies of curling up in her bed when they got to her block and saw the crater.

"So that was where all the fire trucks were going," Pete said. "Well. You didn't have anything there you really liked, right?"

Just a bed. A home she'd committed to. Money she'd spent – never mind that she had plenty more where that came from. She hadn't felt this territorial in decades. "I'm going to kill him," she growled.

"Whoa, easy," Pete said. He was smart enough not to try to touch her. "We already planned to kill him, remember? But dawn's coming. We need to get you to a place to sleep."

Which was going to be – oh, wonderful. Fucking perfect.

"My apartment's this way," Pete said, and started walking.

She was still so furious she could barely think when they arrived. Pete got her a pillow and blanket and she tried not to hunt James down and attempt to rip his head off. The fact that she would inevitably fail wasn't even what was stopping her; dawn was.

"Um," Pete said. "Do you think you could stop growling at my dog, maybe?"

Hemmy did look pretty cowed. Ashlee tried to get a contrite expression on her face. "Sorry."

"You're really not, but that's okay," Pete said. "This is ridiculous. Why would he attack your home?"

"He knows it's the first I've had in awhile," Ashlee said without thinking.

She was very much not ready to process the expression on Pete's face. "Anyway," she said, "I'm going into a trance. It'll help with the rage."

"Right," Pete said. "Uh, good luck, I mean. I'll just be – somewhere else. Doing things."

"Sure," she said. "You should get some rest, too."

"Maybe," Pete said, and went back into his room.

It was disturbing how comfortable she felt here, how used to it she already was. She lay down on the couch with a sigh and closed her eyes. Furious head-ripping would have to wait.

||

Travis and Pete were talking in low voices when she woke up. "Hey," Pete said. "Good sleep?"

"It's not technically sleep, and what you really want to know is if I'm still planning on going on a murderous rampage."

"Told you she was cranky," Pete said.

"And you're disgustingly cheerful. Why couldn't it have been your apartment that was destroyed? Mine was nice."

"Mine's homey," Pete said. "I managed to sleep after all. That trance thing is cool."

"Vampires don't really get insomnia," Ashlee agreed. "Please tell me Joe has an estimated time for that sword."

"Not really. We're meeting him at his place."

"You got a plan?" Travis said. "Other than killing him, I mean."

"Not particularly," Ashlee said. Then she saw the box on the table. "What's that?"

"We got you a present," Pete said. "Or, well, presents, actually. It was Travis's idea."

Which meant it was a transparent attempt to make peace between the three of them. She'd tell them that she wasn't planning on staying for longer than it took to kill James later. "Toss it to me?" she said.

Travis handed it to her. They hadn't wrapped it or anything; it was just a plain brown box, the kind you could buy from a craft store. But inside –

Jesus, she hadn't owned clothing this nice since the roaring 20's.

"Thank you," she said blankly. "How -"

"It was nothing, believe me," Travis said.

"You didn't tell me you were wealthy," she said, stroking the material of the first dress.

Travis shrugged. "You didn't ask."

"Anyway," Pete said, "we figured, you know, you wouldn't have any clothes. I picked them out."

She looked at him. He looked hopeful, insanely so, and – Travis didn't like her, but Travis had funded it. Because Travis and Pete were so close.

Oh, God, she was in so much trouble.

But being three hundred years and change had some benefits; none of her consternation showed on her face. "Thank you," she said. "I'll change in a few minutes. Is there blood in the fridge?"

"Not much," Pete said. "We're going to either knock over a blood bank or start hunting."

"Hunting is fine," Ashlee said. "You'll like it. It's soothing."

"Getting sleep is soothing," Pete said. "Want me to heat it up?"

"The blood? God, yes."

"I don't know," Travis said, "I kind of like it cold. It's got texture."

Ashlee stood up, dress in hand. "That's disgusting. I'm going to pretend you didn't say it," she informed him, and went to change.

She couldn't account for her lightness of mood. Pete was happier, which helped, but – this was why she'd avoided people. Why she hated emotions. The black despair had disappeared when she'd turned, but that didn't mean she was good at managing attachments. Three hundred years had killed off her awkwardness, but the underlying lack of skill at relationships remained.

And she wanted to be around Pete. She wanted it more than she knew she should. Damn the curse and its abilities.

She came out wearing a dark blue dress. Travis whistled theatrically and completely harmlessly; Pete almost dropped the blood he was carrying. "Thanks," Ashlee said, swiping it before he could waste it. She drained it quickly. Nervous energy was rising in her; she hated it and wanted it gone. "Let's go."

Travis had driven, so they ended up in his shitty little Corolla. "You're welcome to make the obvious comment," Travis said.

Ashlee stretched out as much as she could. At least Pete had ceded the passenger seat. "It just seems odd that you'd drive this thing."

"Maybe I'll get a new car now that I'm a vampire. We're supposed to be show-offs, right?"

Ashlee gave in to temptation and rolled her eyes. "Please don't tell me you're going to start asking me if all that Anne Rice shit is real."

"Of course not," Travis said. "…Is it?"

"Absolutely not," she said as firmly as she could.

"Too bad," Pete said. "I bet I could design an awesome velvet hoodie."

She didn't dignify that with an answer. It turned out that it didn't need one, though, because they turned a corner and Travis parallel parked like he'd been born to it.

She was never going to learn. It offended her at every level.

Joe buzzed them in the second they got to the door. One of the perks of being a witch, Ashlee supposed. They walked up silently, the mood dampening noticeably. There was no going back after this, and it was obvious that they knew it.

"Hey," Joe said, after the door swung open on its own and they all filed into the living room to see him sitting on the floor with the sword. "So, the enchantments are going to be put on in two stages. This is stage one. I don't really need anything from you except some blood, though moral support would be nice."

"Ashlee's staying," Pete blurted.

"I kind of figured." Joe shrugged. "I need her blood, too."

The implication that she wasn't really welcome for the rest was obvious, but Ashlee shored up her indifference and held her hand out. "Let's get started, then."

Joe held what she was pretty sure was just a sharpened butter knife. He made a nick quickly, the ease of his movements speaking of long practice.

"Okay," he said, holding her hand over the sword. "Most of the incantation's silent. I might need to draw on your lifeblood a few times, though."

"Do I have lifeblood?"

"You have blood," Joe said. He nicked Pete's hand and smeared his blood over Ashlee's. "Same thing."

"Well, if you need it, it's yours."

"Good to know." Joe closed his eyes. "Okay, here goes nothing."

If there was one thing Ashlee was good at, it was waiting. She looked up at the ceiling and set her thoughts to nothing in particular, slipping into the lightest trance possible. She almost didn't notice when the magic started tugging at her energy.

Almost.

"Don't fall over," she said, reaching out to Pete. She was still looking at the ceiling, which kept her from having to see his expression when their fingers tangled together.

"Wasn't planning on it," he said breathily.

She determinedly ignored the clenching in her gut and kept her gaze trained on the ceiling. It had been about fifteen minutes. He should be done soon.

She could feel herself fading when Joe said, "Okay. That's it."

"Seriously?" Pete said.

Joe nodded. He looked pale and was swaying a little. "The magic needs time to settle in and then it'll be ready."

"What about stage two?"

"That's private," Joe said. "Largely ceremonial, but if anyone else is in the room..."

That didn't sound good. "What?"

"Well, you don't actually want to be dust, right? You should probably leave it alone, then."

Ashlee could recognize a rebuff when it was shoved in her face. "Thanks."

"No problem." Joe made to stand up. "I can show you out."

"It's fine," Pete said. He got to his feet, somehow managing to make a vampire's inhuman grace look clumsy. "See you, man."

Joe waved wordlessly. Ashlee could tell he was going to drop the second they left, so she followed Pete out quickly.

"So that's magic," Pete said.

"Powerful magic. Most witches can't do incantations silently."

"Good to know." Pete hunched his shoulders and opened the front door.

Ashlee waited until they were both on the sidewalk before she said, "We have to go hunting."

Pete, predictably, panicked. "With you? Hell no."

"You just fed your life force to a witch." Almost in spite of herself, Ashlee took a step forward. "You don't have to kill anyone, but you do need to hunt. Unless you feel like dying before we put that fucker in the ground."

"That's your job, not mine. And how do you know I'll die? Last I checked, you weren't exactly an expert on this whole thing."

"I'm a hell of a lot more of an expert than you are."

Pete crossed his arms and jutted his head forward. "I'm not hunting with you."

"So help me, I will force you if I have to." Ashlee reached out for the bond between them and pulled it tight, getting a vicious enjoyment from the way Pete paled.

"I don't want to hunt with you," Pete said again. He sounded sad this time. Young.

She looked away. "I know. But we have to."

"Don't do that thing with the bond again."

It had been an asshole move, and she knew it. "You have my word."

"Okay." Pete took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay."

"Follow me," Ashlee said, and slipped out of the apartment. She wasn't going to give him time to brace himself and thus talk himself out of it.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Pete said, "So where are we going?"

"Downtown," Ashlee said. "The train's this way, right?"

"Two more blocks. Why downtown?"

"Tourists. Drunk people." Ashlee shrugged. "Not as many dark alleys, but it's easier to get lost in a crowd in case of…trouble."

"And this is my life now."

"Like it or not," Ashlee agreed.

They hopped the turnstiles just as the train was coming. Ashlee tried to ignored the thrum of heartbeats; she could tell Pete was trying to do the same thing. "It doesn't get easier."

"Thanks. Very reassuring."

"But it doesn't get harder, either." She frowned. What was she trying to say? "I just – it's not necessary. What I did. You don't have to be like that."

"I'm not sure I can handle having feelings for hundreds of years." He slanted a smile at her. "Lame, I know."

"Not really." There was no way to tell him it was normal, no way for her to get across that if he survived as long as she had, he'd be exceptional. It was hard to understand, from a perspective that was still so human, just how much humans weren't meant to be immortal.

"Those must be some deep thoughts." He elbowed her gently. "Share?"

"Most people don't survive. I mean – I want you to." Not quite a lie. "But most people don't."

Pete shrugged. "I will," he said.

It started to rain just before they got to the Loop. Ashlee grimaced. It wasn't a hard rain, but she preferred to stay dry and clean when at all possible.

"You're totally fastidious, aren't you." Pete grinned. "You're a vampire!"

"I grew up in a world without baths," Ashlee said grimly. "You would be, too."

"Rain is kind of like a bath."

Ashlee just frowned at him. He grinned back, unrepentant, and –

She had to look away.

"Anyway," Pete said into the uncomfortable silence, "won't this make it easier? Fewer people to notice us snacking."

"Maybe. There could also be too few people."

"We'll see," Pete said, but he sounded dubious.

He was right. A little rain hadn't put the tourists off. They made their way to Michigan Avenue, stopping outside a Chinese place.

"Now," Ashlee said, brushing her wet hair to the side, "you can compel people. It's easy and efficient."

"Last time I just grabbed them. I figured you'd be into, you know. Hunting." Pete made claws with his hands.

"…No," Ashlee said. "Watch." She snagged an adult woman walking by and smiled at her, looking into her eyes. "Follow me."

"Okay," the woman said. Ashlee laced their fingers together and led her down the side street nearest them. Pete followed, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes riveted on the woman's neck.

"Don't lose control," she said, and shook her head, letting the fangs out.

The woman's blood was perfectly ordinary. She felt her veins light on fire anyway, the hunger surging in her, taking control, making her need -

She pulled herself back and wiped her mouth. Jesus. "Okay," she said shakily. "So. That's – how you do it."

It became immediately obvious that Pete hadn't heard a single thing she said. His eyes were on the woman's neck, fangs out, hands clenched in fists.

Instinct took over. She curled her hand, cupping the back of his neck and guiding him towards the unhurt side of the woman's neck.

She tried not to get turned on, watching him drink. She'd lost her disgust with the whole process around her fifth decade and hadn't looked back, but it wasn't a pretty process. It wasn't attractive at all, actually. It was vicious and wrong, and –

God. She clenched her thighs together, desperately wanting to look away and completely incapable of doing so.

It was only a minute later that he pulled away, but it felt like forever. "Lick the wound," Ashlee said, fighting for awareness. "It sterilizes."

Pete did what she said and licked his lips. He was a neat eater – unusual, in someone that young. Though it was more normal now that kids were growing up and imagining what it would be like to be vampires. And she was babbling to herself, completely uselessly, in a last-ditch attempt to distract herself from –

"Ashlee," Pete whispered, and she had him pinned against the wall before either of them could blink.

"Don't," she said, and swallowed hard. She couldn't think, she couldn't talk, she -

She kissed him.

Gently, once, and that would have been all, except he chased her lips and made a low noise in the back of his throat. That was all it took to break her control, to propel her forward. She bit his lower lip and then kissed him hard, arching against him when he pushed a leg between her thighs, curling her hands around his wrists and pressing them back against the wall. "God," she whispered, pressing against him, grinding when he thrust his hips towards her. "You - I can't -"

"It's fine," Pete said. He looked completely wrecked. She bit his jaw, kissed her way up to his ear. "It's fine, it's fine, it's fine."

"It's not," she said. "I don't care."

He actually whimpered.

Somehow, that was what made her pull back. She raised her hands like she was being held at gunpoint and took a step back. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Pete thumped his head back against the wall. "Seriously. Don't be."

Too late. "We should get back," she said, not looking at him.

For a second she thought he was going to fight it. It would have been easier to push him away, actually, if he had. So of course he chose then to gain enough maturity to nod and say, "The train's this way."

She stayed next to him the whole way back to his apartment. It would have been fine, just another minor mistake in a long life, if she wasn't slowly realizing that there wasn't anywhere else she'd rather be.

||

The sword was done an hour later.

"I should point out, I don't actually like swords. Or know what to do with them."

"It'll guide you," Joe said. He was still pale, but he at least didn't look ready to drop dead anymore. "That's kind of the point."

"As long as it kills him." She felt herself snarl just at the thought of the man.

"Whoa, easy," Travis said.

"Relax," Ashlee said, forcing herself to focus. She smiled at him, aiming for nonthreatening. By the look on his face, she didn't succeed. "I'm just going to - go," she said. "To, ah -"

"There's a gym a block north," Joe said. "It's closed."

Perfect. "Thanks," she said, and sheathed the sword.

"I'll go with you." Pete hopped off the couch.

She wanted to argue. He'd been quiet for a few hours now, his expression suggesting...something off. She wasn't sure what. But whatever it was, she didn't want him around sharp things.

Then again, she didn't want him mad at her when she went off to behead James Blunt, either.

"Okay," she said. "Get a juicebox or something, it's going to take some time."

"Funny," Pete said. "Let's go."

"Good luck," Joe said. Travis just nodded at her.

She felt stupid walking with a sword. Pete kept stealing glances at her, like he expected her to break out some kind of speech. Was he waiting for a 'but we can still be friends', or an at-death's-door suggestion that they fuck like rabbits?

He answered her question after she'd picked the lock. "I'm just worried you'll be, you know. Hasty."

"Isn't that word a little outdated?"

"Probably." Pete followed her into one of the smaller fitness class rooms, shutting the door behind them. There were floor-to-ceiling mirrors: good. It had been over a century since she'd studied sword-fighting, and she wanted to make sure her form was still acceptable. "The point stands, though. Try not to get killed."

"One of the side effects of being around a couple hundred years more than is advisable is you get used to not dying," Ashlee said. She was aiming for dry, witty, jaded. She ended up just sounding kind of scared.

But Pete, thank God, didn't call her on it. He sat down against the far wall and crossed his legs, looking up at her. "Good."

Fortunately, she'd never been one to mind an audience. She unsheathed the sword, kicked her shoes off, and moved.

She wasn't an athlete. The opposite, really; she was a born klutz. But the enchantments existed for a reason. The sword sang in her hands, cutting through the air like a dream. It was hungry for James' blood, as hungry as Ashlee herself was, and as she moved through forms with it she felt her hunting instinct sharpen and focus.

She was dripping unnecessary sweat and her muscles were tiring when Pete said, "You're beautiful."

Just like that. Loud enough for her to hear, simple and guileless, like after everything that had happened, her beauty was the most important thing.

She took off the sword and walked over to him. He didn't stand up to meet her.

"Call Patrick," she said. "Tell him to be ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Death. Pestilence. Who knows? I plan on succeeding, but I might not."

"You will," Pete said. He got up on his knees. "You will, Ashlee."

What was he - oh. She brought up her hands to support herself seconds before he unbuttoned her jeans. He was looking up at her as he did it, fingers clumsy but careful. She wanted to do too many things to him, she realized. She didn't have time.

"It's okay," Pete said. She had to sternly remind herself that he couldn't read minds. "It's okay, I promise."

She closed her eyes. Her emotions were too strong, and she was so tempted to just deaden them, cut Pete off, end this once and for all. But if she did that, then she might as well try to fight James with her bare hands, for all the good it would do them. "Okay."

"It's not like it's going to hurt, anyway," Pete added teasingly - and then he was laughing one of his stupid laughs and pulling her underwear down.

After that, it was all she could do just to stay upright.

||

It was decided that the assault would take place at sunset the next day. Well, Ashlee thought 'assault' was a bit of a strong word for it; she was going to walk up to the nice, upper-middle class apartment complex, knock on the door, and start beheading vampires until she got to the important one. Everyone else was going to hang back and stay safe.

There was no real reason for her to feel so excited about it, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You're practically bouncing out of your skin." Pete grinned at her from his spot on Joe's couch. "Excited, are we?"

"We are still getting used to feeling things again," Ashlee said. "We would like to get rid of the bastard once and for all. We -"

"Are beautiful," Pete said, and reached out quickly, grabbing her and pulling her down for a kiss.

"Jesus," Travis said from the doorway, "put it away."

They broke apart. Ashlee reveled in how guilty she didn't feel. "It's time?"

"Go get 'em," Travis said.

Some fanfare would have been nice. She sighed and buckled on the sword. "If I don't come back -"

"You're coming back," Pete said. His eyes were wide. She wished she could have told him it was going to be fine, or that she did things like this all the time, but she couldn't. She'd been a vampire hermit for so long she'd forgotten that in the real world, vampires did crazy things like this all the time.

Though the day she bought a long leather coat was the day she staked herself.

"Right, okay. Of course." She took a deep breath. "See you in a few hours."

Travis held the door for her. At the last minute, she looked back. Pete was watching her, expression serious. He wouldn't try to follow her, she knew.

She thought she might love him a little for it.

The weather was getting colder, and though it didn't hurt her, she could still feel it enough to make walking to the complex uncomfortable. It was smarter than getting on public transit with a sword, though, and if this went well, any car on the block would be totaled.

Actually, if it didn't go well, any car in the city would be totaled, along with everything else. But she was really hoping that didn't happen.

"Okay," she muttered to herself right before she came into his hearing range. "You can do this. You can -"

"Hello," James said from the top of a lightpost.

She couldn't help herself. "Seriously?"

He dropped to the ground silently. "You couldn't expect me to waste time sitting in with the fledglings, waiting for you to kill your way through to me. That would be...silly."

"Yeah, okay," Ashlee said, and drew her sword.

She was expecting a showdown, a fight. She wasn't expecting for the sword to be so exquisitely enchanted that it leaped forward, almost ripping itself out of her hand, and severed his head.

How anticlimactic.

For a second she just stood there, sword in her slightly shaking hands. This couldn't be it, she thought. The pile of dust in front of her was a pretty persuasive argument, but - there had to be something else. Surely she was missing something.

Aside from the twenty-something vampires in the apartment complex, anyway.

When a solid minute passed and nothing happened, she sighed and sheathed the sword. This was what she'd forgotten about being in the world: the sheer dullness of some of it. It wasn't that she wanted to live out some dramatic story every seventy years or so, but was a climactic battle after two hundred years of self-enforced emotional deadness too much to ask for?

But she knew the answer to that. Of course it was. She hadn't signed up for the blood-pounding battles; she'd signed up for living her life, feeling things and keeping people close and, eventually, losing them. Dying. Not being human, because she could never go back to that, but being...well, something different.

She started for the apartment complex, her resolution settling in even as she climbed the stairs. Different was good, she thought, unsheathing the sword again. After all, she'd spent a couple hundred years doing the same thing. It was time to shake things up a little.

She kicked the door down, feeling her lips peel back in a feral grin. "Okay," she yelled into the building, "come out and play!"

She laughed, feeling full of life and abandon, when they obeyed.

||

Pete was on her the second she got into his apartment. He slammed her against the door and kissed her hard, hands running all over her. "You're okay?"

"It was disturbingly easy. Your friend's good. Speaking of which - oh God." She paused to press herself against the heel of his hand. "This is great and all, but where are they?"

"Gone." Pete tilted his head, peeking at her from under his hair. "I wanted to talk to you about things. Our future, stuff like that."

She gave in and kissed him. "I'm not good at talking about my feelings."

"I'd noticed. But -"

"We have time," she said, and kissed him again. This time she made it slow, sweet. "I promise. Okay?"

He smiled. She didn't look away. "Okay."

And the thing was - she wasn't actually sure if she was telling the truth. But looking at Pete now, she knew one thing with absolute certainty: she was ready to find out.