'And I'm sucked in by the wonder and
I'm fucked up by the lies And I dig a hole to lie in and
I build some wings to fly
And I think that I could love you
'cause you know how to be free
I want you to come walk this world with me.'

--"Walk this World," Heather Nova. Part Two

Oh, Heero, Hilde thought in amusement, watching the other vampire slip over the side of the railing, reclaimed by the shadows he haunted. Ever the fool, I see. At least that much hasn't changed, she smirked. She stretched, limbs reaching and uncoiling with concealed power, her body sliding into a crouch. From this position, she could just make out the body below her perch, preternatural eyes focusing on the loose braid slung across the concrete. Launching herself forward just a bit, she tucked into a flip, landing with an inaudible thud on the balcony she had been so carefully watching.

She knelt beside the mortal curled at her feet, turning his face towards her. Well, I will say this, Heero, your taste is still impeccable. Her hands slid down his neck, stretching it and holding it taunt as she lowered her head to lap at the slow bleeding wound. Mmhmm. Oh, yes, she purred. Very, very nice. The boy groaned but didn't wake, instead cringing away from her as if he sensed something very wrong.

"Not to your taste, am I?" she murmured. "Not like him, eh? We have something in common then. I'd much rather be standing here enjoying your blood with him instead of taking his scraps."

She sat back on her haunches, fingers toying with the wound to keep it open as she considered the situation. It would be simplicity itself to finish him off. The boy was already more than half-dead, thanks to Heero's ruthless efficiency. That ruthless streak was something Hilde had always admired about him. Whether it was in stalking in his victims or in passion, Heero did whatever was needed to accomplish his goals. If he wanted you dead, then you were dead.

She frowned, her grip tightening on the mortal boy's neck. "He should have killed you for daring to lay eyes on him. What made you think you had the right?"

The sound of the mortal's gasps as her hand tightened on his windpipe were sublime to her ears. She let him wheeze a few moments more before allowing his head drop back. With a slow smile that was more teeth than warmth, she stretched alongside him, her hand dipping up and down his chest. Putting her lips to his ear, she whispered, "I could kill you, but I won't. Oh, no. You're going to help me even if you don't know it yet. You're going to help me break him and then he'll come back, back to his family where he belongs."

***

"Is there anything I can do?" Relena asked for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Duo had to grit his teeth to refrain from asking her to shut the hell up.

This had not been the best of mornings. After finding him passed out and bleeding on the balcony, Relena had summoned up enough presence of mind to call an ambulance. Last night had been spent hooked up to an IV receiving a blood transfusion--nearly two pints in all. It was a miracle or so he'd been informed, that he was alive to complain. And this morning had been no better, after having a battery after battery of tests run. He'd been poked, prodded, and stuck in every way possible just so they could rule out the possibility of any infection or disease. The only bright spot was they were convinced he had been attacked by an animal of some sort. Which meant no psych ward and no in-depth questions about his 'experience.' The doctors seemed to take his claims to not remember much at face value, filling the air with understanding nods and words like 'trauma' and 'shock.' He felt guilty about not being entirely truthful, but the whole truth was just too bizarre.

His thoughts turned again towards last night and the dark angel that had visited him. He hadn't been lying when he claimed his memory was a little hazy, he just hadn't told the truth about how hazy it was. He remembered the boy though. It would be hard to forget when Death's shadow, so beautiful and otherworldly, passed you by. His sleep, when he'd been able to snag a few hours, had been filled with glittering blue eyes and the scent of blood. The thought made his hand involuntarily reach for the bandage around his throat, the wound beneath it the one proof he had that last night hadn't been a dream. That boy had been real and he had bitten Duo.

A word floated to the surface of his mind and refused to be banished. Vampire. Nosferatu. A child of darkness. His mind scoffed at the very idea. Logic dictated that vampires were nothing more than superstitious relics, glorified by gothic horror novels and B movies. Logic dictated that the doctors were correct in their assumption: he had been attacked by some animal. After all, Dorothy Catalonia lived one floor up from them and everyone knew what an animal nut she was. Any of those damn dogs of hers could have gotten loose and attacked him. Unlikely, but it was far more logical than the idea that a vampire had attacked him

Unfortunately, in this case, logic was a damned liar and reality's whore to boot.

One thing continued to bother him. The vampire had drained him but hadn't killed him. It didn't make sense. It contradicted his earlier words, and indeed, his actions up to the very point when he'd suddenly released Duo. He wanted to know why, why had the vampire spared him after being so intent upon killing him?

"Duo?" Relena was shaking his shoulder, impatience coloring her tone and features. "Duo? Are you sure you're all right? Maybe I should call the doctor..."

He caught her wrist before she could make good on that threat. The last thing he needed was to be given some sort of medication that would do little more than knock him out. What he needed was time to think and as long as his cousin stayed here, that wasn't going to happen. Schooling his face into the most pitiful expression he could muster, he gazed up at Relena with pleading eyes. "No, I'm just tired, Rel. Really. I think...I think I just need some sleep."

She nodded, her blond hair bobbing up and down. "I'll just sit down and be quiet then."

No, Duo wanted to yell. Take the hint and leave, for God's sake. He'd had enough warm, caring inquiry for the day and he just wanted some time to himself. Was that so wrong? You're not being fair to Relena, part of him argued. You scared the shit out of her last night and you know how well she handles surprises. You're lucky she pulled it together long enough to call 911.

"Rel," Duo finally allowed some of his irritation to seep in. His cousin froze, her blue eyes widening at his tone. "I'm tired. You've been here all night. I appreciate your concern, but you're dead on your feet. Even I can see that. Get a taxi and go home. You can come back when we've both had a few hours' sleep."

"But--"

"No, buts," he waggled his finger at her before jerking his thumb towards the door. "Out."

She sighed, picking up her coat. "You are such a jerk sometimes, you know that? I don't know why I let myself worry about you, baka."

"Relena."

She paused, swiveling towards him with a wounded expression. Duo felt himself soften. "Love you, cousin. Thanks for saving my ass."

Relena smiled, glowing a little at his praise. She crossed over to him, dropping a kiss on his forehead. "I'm kind of fond of you, too. Get some rest, Duo. I'll bring you some soup or something later on."

"Sounds like a plan," he forced a grin, waiting until she had exited the room before letting himself droop back into his sheets. After all the excitement last night and this morning, his body ached with weariness even if his mind hadn't quite gotten there yet.

He let his gaze roll up to contemplate the cheap plaster of the ceiling, overlapping it with a cold beautiful face and eyes like the stars he loved. I will find you, Duo vowed. I'm going to find you and make you tell me why, why you spared me.

After that... Well, after that, he'd see.

***

A week had passed and he couldn't stop thinking about that boy. Heero traced the rim of his glass, ignoring the scent of cigarettes and warm salty bodies pressed in close quarters. His teeth smarted with the urge to feed, an urge he brutally ignored. This was ridiculous. He had come here to pick up a meal or at the very least, a bite, something to sustain him. And all he could do was sit on the sidelines, watching the crush of people out on the dance floor as he leaned away with disgust from the emaciated addicts surrounding him. Any one of them would do; even from here, he could pick up waves of hopelessness and desolation. There were people here who would sell their souls for heroin or whatever drug you'd offer. Their lives were already over. He could take them and it would even look natural with all the puncture wounds dotting their body.

So, why couldn't he bring himself to take their tainted blood? He had never been overly picky before. True, druggies weren't exactly the most palatable dish with all the damn chemicals clogging their system but a meal was a meal. However, every time he worked himself up to approaching one of them, violet eyes flashed across his vision, his body trembling with the remembered taste of that sweet, sweet blood...

Duo. Even the name sang in his head, coupled with the memory of the taste of him, so full of life, so full of death, full of loneliness and dejection and every emotion in between.

Heero had heard it said that once, sometimes, twice in a vampire's existence came that perfect soul with perfect, sweetest of blood that called to a vampire like no other. The perfect vessel that gave life and sustenance that would forever haunt dreams and memory if destroyed or pull and tug at the eternal craving if allowed to live. The downfall of many of his kind came from just that very pull, from giving into that impossible and illogical force that would have driven even the strongest willed to the same feast again and again until one was destroyed.

No, he shook his head in denial. He was stronger than that, strong enough to escape the bonds that had once bound him and definitely strong enough to fight off a mere craving, a whim, for a whelp of a boy. One mortal was much the same as the next.

This one isn't, that voice in his head sing-songed. He growled in frustration, slamming his glass against the table. This was getting him nowhere fast. It was time to feed and time to put this damn silly nonsense out his head. He was a vampire and unless he wanted to kill that boy or get caught, he'd stay the hell away from Duo Maxwell.

He let his eyes wander over the crowd, checking out the possibilities when he found her. He rose to his feet, throwing a few dollars on the table as he weaved out onto the crowded floor towards the bar, the flashing strobe lights making the path with false daylight every few seconds. Daylight that was for him a hazy memory or an image seen on the screen.

She didn't notice him at first. It gave him time to make certain, certain that this was the one he would take. He didn't want any more mistakes. He couldn't afford sloppiness, not like the incident with Duo. She was young, maybe sixteen at most and if her clothes didn't proclaim an open invitation then the loose stance of her body did. He could sense her rising agitation and frowned until he noticed her rubbing her inner arm. More specifically over a patch of pierced skin. So she was in need of a fix? And probably willing to sell herself to get it, too. He watched her flirt, or rather attempt to, with the man next to her. Clumsy as her attempts were, they might have succeeded had the man been aware enough to realize what she was offering.

He sidled up next to her, so quiet that she didn't notice. Not until he put his mouth to her ear, words grazing the fleshy hollow. "Can we go somewhere?"

***

After that, things had been simplicity in itself to get her out of the bar. She... Casey, she informed him glibly as they left together, wanted two hundred an hour. Just to make things seem more on the level, he argued her down to one hundred and fifty. Catching the gleam in her hazed eyes, he probably could have argued her down to a hundred plus a small catch of whatever drug she wanted and bought her for the night.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The light was unkind to the contours of her face, accentuating how tightly her skin was pulled over her skull, transforming it into a living Death's head. He eyed her with distaste. They were too thin these days, bones prominent in hollows where flesh was meant to be. Just the barest sheath of skin covering bones and veins. It made it easier to feed but difficult to make out in that emaciated androgyny if he stalked a man or woman. Not that it mattered much anyway.

Casey nervously shifted under his stare, her shirt sinking lower over small breasts while her skirt rode just a little higher. She tried to smirk, popping her gum in an attempt to look inviting as she caught his eye. It came off as sad, rather pathetic, and he was very nearly seized with the urge to throw his coat around her, pay her, and tell her to go eat something. Wouldn't do any good. She'd just throw the money away on her drug of choice later.

He could smell her even with the distance betwixt them. The scent of fruity perfume and sweat mixing to create a sour-sweet odor. The bitter tang of hair spray and gel and the detergent of her clothes. He could scent her desire and her fear, a balmy fog that lifted and clung to his nostrils, searing them and awakening his hunger. Duo had been so different. Such a gentle scent, like champagne bubbles tickling his nose with playful abandon.

He hated this. Hated the sight of this near sexless girl, wearing her make-up like battle armor. They grew up so fast these days. She couldn't be more than fifteen yet she walked the streets with an air that revealed years of experience. How long had she been selling herself to gain that hardened smile and those dead eyes? The dividing line between have and have nots had only grown wider and deeper since his birth.

"So where are we goin'?" The bubble she was blowing burst, pink gum pasting itself around her dark-stained lips. "I charge extra for blow jobs, by the way."

"Hnn."

"Have to these days," she explained, keeping step beside him. "I mean, if it's good enough for the President, then it's damn good enough to earn me a little on the side, ya know what I mean?"

"Sorry."

Why did I do that? He turned away from her surprised expression. Hell, he didn't understand it himself. Why did he care anyway? She was just a two-penny street whore. You could walk down any street in New York and find dozens like her. Prettier and more talented flesh for sale to boot. A creature like her didn't understand soft things like kindness. No, she dealt in money and hard realities. She wouldn't understand or appreciate the twinge of sympathy he felt for her.

He reached out and pushed her hard against the window of a nearby store, ignoring the cursing of those behind the glass as he crushed his mouth to hers. She eeped in surprise then threw herself into it, returning his aggression with sloppy open-mouthed kisses and fumbling grasps at the crotch of his jeans.

...was wrong...can see the stars out...

God, why couldn't he shut that damn voice out? Why wouldn't it go away? He was angry. No, he was beyond that. He was enraged, the feeling taking him before he was even fully aware of it. He pressed her harder, hands digging into her arms. She whimpered but kept her mouth against his, lapping at his thrusting tongue. With a savage yank, he was off of her and dragging her around the corner into one of the nearby alleys. His eyes scanned the enclosure picking out the huddled form of a wino passed out near the dumpster in back and a few mice slithering through the gloom. It was perfect. Safe. Dark. So why was he afraid all of the sudden?

"Um, can I have my money now?"

He jerked, pivoting towards that timid sounding voice, his companion mussed and lips smeared and bruised from the force of his earlier kiss.

"When our business is concluded." He bit off each word, half-wishing she'd fuck the money and run for it. At this point though if she did, he was just as likely to run her down and take what he needed from her.

He reached out and stroked her face from ear to cheek, keeping eye contact with her. "Take your hair down."

His request startled both of them. He couldn't explain it, this sudden burning desire to see her hair cascade loose and soft across those stick-like shoulders. He just wanted it, wanted it so badly that his hands were moving of their own accord, shaking as they tracked through gelled hair, and unwinding the tight bindings keeping her hair aloft. He finger-combed his way through it , eyes never leaving hers as he massaged her scalp, drawing her closer and closer until his lips found hers again with less force but greater hunger than before. She moaned, slipping her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, trembling as they rested there. He mouthed the soft tight skin of her cheeks and jaw, lips closing over her ear as his tongue flicked at the inner hollow before moving off and down again. He lifted her hand, transversing it with nips and licks as she rubbed up against his hard immortal body, his knee parting her willing thighs. He traced over the marks of her addiction, the purpled flesh of her inner elbow, placing a single kiss there before he clamped down. Her startled cry filled his ears as he suckled greedily, all but holding her up against the wall.

Her flesh proved no protection or wall as the salty copper of her life trickled then flowed more strongly into his mouth. He nearly gagged at the lingering traces of heroin he tasted there. This was not the taste he thirsted for, nor the strong heart that called to him. He opened his eyes, watching as her breath fell in labored pants, her loose fawn colored hair trembling.

Fawn hair...

He flung himself backwards, allowing the girl to slip from his grasp as he stared at her in mounting horror. She looked confused, dozens of questions forming in those near violet eyes.

Near violet but not.

She reached for him, desire clouding her young face and he backpedaled. No. His hunger was there but...Not for this one! Her blood sank into him, solid and dull. There was no enjoyment, no longing for more of the taste. What he wanted, she couldn't give. Only one person could. Only one person could sate him with his blood, with his mind, with those lovely thoughts and dreams.

Oh, no. No. Heero denied it. This was not happening. Blood was blood. It was just sustenance. It didn't matter who or where it came from. Bullshit, his body informed him. Absolutely bullshit, that was. It knew exactly who and what it wanted. It had tasted manna and it wasn't going to settle for plain old water anymore.

Meanwhile, his would-be meal was starting to become aware of a few things...Like the blood running down her arms and the corresponding trickle down his chin. She opened her mouth, to scream most likely when he caught her eye and her mind, holding both. Her eyes glazed over and she swayed slightly on her feet, only the quickness of his preternatural reflexes saving her from a nasty fall. Why he caught and held this paper waif in his arms, Heero did not know. Better to have let fall, let her strike her head against some jagged corner or edge so that no one would believe her tale at a later date.

What tales? the nagging voice inside of him asked. Finish what you started and she won't be telling any tales.

He needed to think. There was no time for that though, no time for much of anything except to make a choice and live with it, pray that it was the right one. He took her face in his hands, gripping her chin and moving it. "Sleep. Go to sleep and forget."

She sighed, a soft childish sound and slumped forward in his arms. He lowered her gently against the wall, brushing his knuckle against her pale skin before stepping back and away, back towards the hum of the streets.

And the hunger remained.

***

Duo stared critically at the plum of fresh bruises across his throat, the remains of his bandages dangling from his hand. With care, he let his fingers map a route across each blemish, noting the regularity and roundness of each mark. Fingers. The bruises looked like they had been left by human hands. How was that even possible? He stretched his mind back, back to that night, trying to recall if there had been any sort of roughness involved. No, he decided. It wasn't from the vampire. He hadn't had to use any sort of roughness to take Duo. Duo had been more than willing at the time to accept the vampire's kiss. His hands swept across his skin to where a pair of pinkish holes stood out in relief against his pale skin. He fingered the marks, the motion sending a gentle shockwave through him. He pressed down, biting his lip in pleasure as it evoked a response in him not unsimilar to what he had felt while receiving the bite. His body broke out in a fresh set of goose bumps, nipples hardening…among other things.

With some effort, he stopped, forcing himself to grip the sides of the sink for support. His breath was coming in short pants, body caught in a reaction not unlike sexual bliss. Oh, God, he thought dazedly. I've discovered how to orgasm with your neck.

"Duo?"

Relena. Shit. He opened his mouth, tried to work it, then swallowed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, Rel?"

"Are you all right?" His cousin's voice floated through the door, drawing nearer. "You've been in there an awfully long time."

"I'm fine," Duo's voice cracked on him and he cursed silently before repeating. "I'm fine. I-I'm just changing my bandages."

"Oh. Do you need any help?"

"No!"

Silence. "Well, all right but do try to hurry out, you have a guest."

"Great," Duo managed weakly. Yeah, fucking great, he thought, letting himself slide to his knees, pressing his head against the cold porcelain of the sink. He reached over and twisted the facet on as cold as he could manage and splashed water all over his face. Had he time, another (far icier) shower would be in order, but this would just have to do.

When he had himself under some semblance of control again, he re-bandaged the wounds, this time avoiding touching the tender flesh. He snagged the black turtleneck draped over the robe hook and pulled it on, fluffing his loose hair out of its grasp. He grimaced, displeased at how stringy his damp hair looked. Pulling a brush through it a few more times didn't help all that much and it was with some annoyance that he simply pulled the damp mass into a limp ponytail. Screw it, he thought with a touch of grumpiness. I'm sick, I can neglect myself if I want to.

He threw open the door, half-expecting to find Relena hovering at the door, trying to shove medication and tea in his direction. What he wasn't expecting was to find Dorothy Catalonia seated primly on the edge of his bed, hands resting on a walking stick and a damn large dog at her feet. The dog had lifted its chocolate head when Duo had exited the bathroom and was now regarding him with a suspicious gleam in those black eyes. He didn't bark or growl, there was just the barest hint of teeth revealed as the dog's mouth flaps drew back.

Then there was Dorothy herself.

He didn't know the Catalonia very well. No one in either the building or their circle of society did. She was something of a recluse, an eccentric by reputation and manner. A few years back she had been very much like Relena, a bit of a social butterfly, and high on the eligibility scale. Then she'd gone off with her grandfather into the jungles of Central America and returned a stranger. A cold, taciturn stranger who didn't suffer the society fools she'd once associated with gladly. Many attributed her change to the death of her grandfather from some sort of exotic fever or being off with 'savages' for so long. Whatever the case, she wasn't a person to be trifled with, not with a tongue and wit sharp enough to cut steel bars. And then there were her dogs. Duo had only once seen her with all of them, but she never went anywhere without one by her side. There were about six of them in all, ranging from simply large to gigantic. Real evil-looking animals, the kind that gave you considerable pause before even daring to approach.

Duo had exchanged a few words with the girl in the past but nothing more consequential than the weather. Because of that, he couldn't imagine why in the world she was here, let alone in his bedroom.

Dorothy gave him the briefest of nods. "I let myself in."

She reads minds, too, huh? he thought. "So I noticed. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "I sent your cousin to see about the tea."

He quirked an eyebrow. Only Dorothy could send Relena after something as trivial as tea. Only Dorothy would dare to. Her pale blue eyes focused on him sharp and intimidating. He could see why Relena might well hop to. However, this was his bedroom and he refused to be cowed here.

"Is there anything in particular you wanted?" Duo tried again, trying to sound as polite as possible. That dog of hers tracked his fidgeting, looking for all the world as if were ready to pounce. With a sigh, Duo settled against the door and resigned himself to staying put. Dorothy was one thing, taking on that dog was another. He already had one set of bite marks, he didn't need another, thank you very much.

"To see how you were doing," Her gaze trailed over him, a critical gleam there. "You look pretty good for someone who was found 'half-dead.'"

Relena's been talking to people, I see, he sighed. The whole building probably thinks I'm at death's door or something, never mind the fact I walked in here under my own power after leaving the hospital.

"Thanks," he replied dryly. "The reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

He expected her to crack a smile or something. Instead, her eyes grew sharper, a frown marring the smooth mask of her face. "Yes, you were lucky this time but then luck just seems to follow you, doesn't it, Duo Maxwell?"

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean."

"And I'm quite sure that you do," she snapped, "After all, surviving the crash that killed your parents--"

He flinched. He'd almost gotten through the morning without thinking about that.

"--and then a vampire attack. Fortune favors you indeed," she tapped her cane against the floor.

"Va--," he mouthed the words, putting his hand to his ears in certainty. He couldn't have heard that right. He--

"Vampire," she supplied, "The whole building thinks one of my dogs attacked you. In fact, there's a movement being led by your cousin to have them removed from the building and destroyed. I think we both know, however, that it wasn't the dogs who put you in the hospital, don't we?"

He stared at her, floored by the whole conversation. He had been expecting something like a 'get well soon' or 'I brought you a gift' small talk. Not for her to read his mind, not for her to speak the words he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. "I-- How?"

"How what? How do I know these things? How can I ask?" she asked.

He nodded dumbly.

She glanced at the half-closed door to his bedroom, then stood, walking toward him and unbuttoning her shirt. He backed up or rather tried to, when his back encountered the hard frame of the door.

"Um--"

"Oh shut up," she said, unbuttoning the shirt halfway, before slipping it down one arm. He started to turn away when he saw it. Lurching off the door, he drew closer, unable to take his eyes off of her. More specifically, off of the scarred flesh of her lower neck and collarbone. Multiple scars that dotted and twisted the landscape of her creamy skin, scars that suspiciously mirrored his own. He met her eyes and she nodded, tugging her shirt up again.

"So, you see, Duo Maxwell," she said softly, "You're not the only one they've hurt."

***end of part two