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The poison was fast. Traveling through his blood stream, making him weaker by the second. He needed blood. And he needed it now. The sun sliced through a window, as Mick St. John staggered up the steps to his apartment, making him bend forward in humiliating avoidance. The wound in his torso throbbed painfully, an ugly reminder of the night’s events. He’d told her to stay in the car. It was safer that way. For him. Always for him. She had thought it was because he was being nice, and a part of it was because of her protection. But, if she knew; if she saw what he was. She hadn’t stayed and it made it that much harder to leave the warehouse, the call of blood coursing through his being. Almost like he was alive.

Slamming into his door, Mick saw through monstrous eyes as it opened. Frantically, desperately, he searched out the pouches, the sickeningly truth of the way he lived. And he drank. Drank like a thirsty man who hadn’t had water for decades. He could feel the blood pouring down his chin, uncaring.

“I keep dreaming about you….why?” Mick stopped, yellow eyes fearful. He had felt her presence; smelt her before he’d even heard her. She was someone that had followed him for decades. She’d saved him, as he had her. His constraint on the monster within him had started with her. He would always know her. He heard the unsteady heartbeat beat underneath her warm, inviting skin. She had to leave.

“Don’t look at me.” Pain coursed through his body, making it easier for him to bend forward, as Beth walked closer to him. He wouldn’t drink in front of her. If she saw the monster he was, everything would be over. She was a reporter. And Mick knew that came first. Over whatever the hell the pair had between them. He fell to the floor, a heap of disgrace; the wreck of a man who once was.

He heard her heartbeat speed up, as she came closer. He tried to stop the trembling, but the poison was starting to get the best of him. He needed to feed. And then he turned to face her. This time, he heard her gasp over the maddening pace of her heart. “Oh my God.” Yellow eyes met Beth’s, as he awaited her next question; the inevitable one.

“What are you?” ‘A monster. Someone you knew long ago.’ “I’m a vampire.” It was done. The truth was out. Josef would know how to handle this after everything was over. And the fleeting thought that passed through Mick’s frantic mind was how he would stop Josef from killing Beth for knowing the truth. He waited, shaking on the floor, for the women before him to leave.

She didn’t. She stood there, warm and alive, blood pumping steadily through her body, staring at him. Another bout of pain shot through his body, causing him to bend forward more, a slouch of man, trying to hide himself to the one person whom he wanted to know all. The clicking sound of her heels made his heart drop. And then the sound of the door shutting was heard. She was gone, he was sure. Until he heard her feet carrying her back over to him. He looked back up at her, seeing her calm eyes staring at him again.

“What are you doing?” Mick trembled violently, closing his eyes at the pain. He needed to feed. “Go. Please. I can’t let you see…” Beth knelt forward, coming to kneel on her knees beside him. He couldn’t hide at all now. She was staring straight on into the eyes of a man haunted by unfortunate circumstances; a man ridden with being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was staring into the eyes of her friend. Mick averted his gaze; her scent overpowering his senses. A man of willpower was what he was. Because of her.

He heard the rustling of fabric in his ears. Once again, he turned to face the woman who was anything but predictable. She had taken off her jacket, a teal top clothing her now. “Beth, please, just….” He stopped, as she moved closer to him. “Feed.” He couldn’t. He couldn’t let her see what a monster he was. He just wanted her to see him as the man who rescued her. A friend. Not something to be scared of; something to write about.

She just sat there, looking at him. Mick looked down at the pouch in his grasp, the hunger and the pain calling out his primal side. Weakened from everything he could possibly imagine, Mick slowly started to bring the tube to his lips. He would deal with the repercussions later. Think up some believable lie. Because he’d been doing that for as long as he could remember. “No.” Mick watched, as Beth moved aside the collar of her top. “From me, Mick. Drink from me.” The trembling was violent now. Too much. All too much. He just wanted his safe life. Drinking miserably from pouches, getting the bad guys, saving Beth. It was too much. “Beth, please. Go. You don’t know what…”

The same woman who had saved him was now breaking him. She was pressing forward, her smell becoming his entire world. He could hear her heartbeat, strong in her ribcage. Sure of herself. He knew she was a woman of will. The smooth skin of her jugular was swimming in his vision, her eyes next to all he could see. In them he saw assurance; no fear.

It was too much.

He surged forward, watching her eyes widen. But still, no fear shone in them. His crazed gaze went from her eyes to her neck. His breathing labored. He started, as he felt her hand, her warm skin, on the base of his own neck, touching the sweat and fear of a man scorned. Encouraging him. Pressing him forward. He couldn’t. He set his mouth at the crook of her neck, his fangs scraping her throat. He wouldn’t do this. He’d spent so much time doing the right thing because of this woman. If she would only leave.

And then she jerked her body forward and his teeth sank into the soft flesh he found there. Warm, salty blood flooded into his mouth. He felt her heartbeat in his chest, heard her intake of breath from his breaking her skin. Too much. He started to draw back out, but her hand was there again, at his neck, keeping him planted. “Please, Mick….please.” Something stirred inside of him at the sound of her voice; husky. Unbridled.

She wanted this. Mick become unhinged, grasping her from her position on the floor and bringing her into his lap, her gasp all he heard, as he started to drink from her. She was the best he’d ever tasted. Sweet and forbidden. Allowable. She grasped his shoulders, her head titled back. Too much. Pulling himself out, he scraped his fangs across the bite for a second; felt her fingers press in on his shoulders, before he pushed back in, resuming.

It was no longer about his healing. It was about trust. That he would be able to stop. To prove to her in a twisted way, that he wasn’t a monster. That he had some kind of control. He had no control over his emotions, however, and he felt himself rocking into her pelvis with desire. Nothing like this had ever happened. A woman so willing, so trusting. Her blood. Her body. Her answering moan only encouraged him, as he felt the last of the poison being flushed out of his system.

He licked at the bite mark on her neck, nothing but a fast-healing wound and his saliva there now. His hot breath puffed out onto her neck. This was all too much for him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. All thoughts were driven out by Beth’s movements. Pulling his face up to meet her’s, once again he saw no fear in her eyes. Only assurance and a deep amount of desire, which he was sure was mirrored in his own. She wiped the bit of blood from his chin, transferring it to his shirt that fit him so well. And then a smirk appeared.

“I thought you said there was no such thing as vampires.”

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Comments, please! Should I continue with the story, or leave as a one shot?

Tags: fanfic, micbeth, moonlight