I'm so cold. Cold. Images fade in and out. I'm cold. Forms moving. Was I in the earth? No. Not me. Fading out. Fading in. It's cold. The earth, and a hand punched through the soil. My hand? Bigger. Waking up? Are my eyes open? There's water here. On my skin. Voices. Many voices. Warm water, because I'm cold.

"William, lift yer eyes, sweet lad."

Form, blurry… at the side of me. Can't focus.

"Cold."

"Are ye, then? The water's not to yer liking then?"

Squint. Dark hair, no face. Focus.

"Help me."

"Aye, but I'm here fer ye, lad."

Strong hands on me. Eyes clearing. Voices muffled, many voices.

"Where am I?"

"Yer home."

"Who are you?"

"I'd be Angelus."

"Who am I?"

"Yer our newest, William."

Eyes clear now. Large Irishman crouched, and washing filth from my hair.

"I'm new?"

"Aye, ye are."

Ladies. Two ladies. One light, one dark. Smiling.

"I… I'm in a state of sin."

"Shh, lad. Ye'll not be frettin', now."

"Cover me, please…"

Gripping cold porcelain. Gripping cold flesh. Bloated with sin. Ladies aren't averting their eyes. Panic.

"Women… Ye'll be frightenin' the lad."

"Come now, Angelus… You mustn't keep our dear boy all to yourself."

Elegant. Blonde. Tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. Who is she? Why is she here? Where am I?

"Ah now, it wouldn't do to have ye hoverin' Dearest.."

"Yes, yes. Come now, Dru, we'll leave Daddy to it, then."

"But he's just been stewed and coddled. Ready for drinking!"

"Shh, come along Drusilla."

The ladies are moving, their skirts swirling around their slippered feet. A door closing. I'll catch my breath now.

"Exquisite, Sire. Lovely choice."

"Aye, Penn, but he is."

They're lifting me from the bath, and wrapping me in linens. Impossibly strong. They hand me off to one another, and carry me to a large bed, where the linens are removed. Lying here, exposed. A round face smiles down on me.

"Little brother, what a Master you'll become."

"Master?"

Oil is being poured onto my skin. Both men working their fingers into my muscles. I feel my arms grow stronger with each stroke. Oh. Oh no. A swelling in my groin. I suffer with indiscretion festering in my stomach.

"Please… I've no control…"

"This what's troublin' ye, lad?"

Cold hand on my swelling, and… and… and I'm spilling out… and Oh Lord! Oh Lord! What have I done? What have I become? Unseemly! I'm sobbing. The corrupt hands are comforting me.

"I'll hold him, you finish Penn."

"Aye."

The Irishman lifts me onto his lap, cupping my head beneath his chin, the young man with the round face – who called me 'brother', is working the oil into my legs. Curious. I feel home. The scent of the Irishman fills my nostrils, and I must turn my head to burrow into his neck. I feel a pulse in my groin again as the scent increases, and press my nose to the hollow. What's happened to me? But this scent. This scent, overpowering. Smells like home. I trust him.

"That's it, lad. Ye need this."

His hand returns to my groin. Urge. My teeth itch. The other hand, on the back of my neck, pressing me harder into him. Something's happened to my face, and I'm sucking on the throat. Sucking. Sucking. Hand around my member gripping and pulling. Moaning and sucking. Sobbing in pleasure. Oh. Feels absolute. Complete.

"Look, Sire… superb the way they rise and tense."

"Lift them for me."

Strong, sure fingers lifting my sac. Stretching me. Sucking harder. So exposed. Spilling again. Wild spurts in that fist. Spilling. Jerking. Oh Dear Lord. I'm drinking his blood! Can't stop. I need to breathe! I need to breathe! Pant, and it's bubbling in my throat…

"William! William! Listen, boy. Are ye listenin'?"

"I'm sorry!"

"No, lad. No apologies. Yer doin' what yer meant to. Tis who ye are now."

"I'm… I… I bit you! I drank from you!"

"Aye, but ye did. Yer belly was empty, an' the feed was on ye. Tis no sin, lad. Yer above that now."

"What am I?"

"Yer a Vampire. A God in yer own right."

"I… I… I'm a devil?"

"Iffin it be yer wish, then aye, yer a devil."

"I'm afraid…"

"Loveliest… nothin' ta fear. Ye'll learn all ye need at my hand."

His hand. Still on my member. Sin. Damned. No absolution. The man with the round face, who calls me 'brother', is now lying next to us on the bed. His eyes are grey. They're large and inviting. He brings the excitement back to my groin, and I'm grunting because he's running a tongue over my belly.

"Sire… lift his legs, if it pleases you."

My legs being drawn up to my chest. Disgrace. The Irishman holding behind my knees, parting my thighs.

"Your name! What's your name?!"

"Shh, lad. The name is Penn. You're William. Behind you that is our Sire, or Angelus."

"What are you doing to me?"

Smiling. Grey eyes.

"Looking you over, brother. Learning your scent."

His nose is ghosting over the swell of my abdomen, but his eyes never leave mine. Impure. Impure deeds. Succumbing.

"Won't you help me?"

Imploring whisper leaks from my lips. Help me return home. Mother is expecting me.

"Aye, whatever you need. Tell me what it is, William."

"You're interfering with me… It's unclean."

My back rising against the laughter from the chest behind me.

"Sweet boy," Though it sounds like 'Sweet By' "Yer so like our Penn."

"Please… please…"

"Does it not give ye the pleasure, lad?"

"Yes… but it's wrong… so very wrong."

Brother on his knees between mine, fingers running softly over the backs of my oiled thighs.

"You believe you'll be infected with sin, were I to perform this unclean act upon you?"

"To be sure."

"Aye… much like me, you are."

The arms around me tighten, pulling my knees further apart. My backside parted and exposed. So exposed. Brother smiling indulgently.

"There's a spirit 'neath yer skin, my boyo… Ye need to listen. Listen to yer body. Yer body respondin' as the God ye are. Listen."

"And what am I to do?"

"We'll be seein' to yer needs, William. Respond as yer body commands, not yer head – so filled with shame and dishonor. Tis a pity, it is."

The scent of belonging to this Irishman is comforting. If brother smells the same, perhaps it will calm me.

"May I…"

"Anythin', lad. Just ask."

"May I smell brother?"

Curiously, it doesn't bring me shame to request this. Both men seem to shimmer with delight over the question. And this brings me pleasure.

"Breathe me in, lad."

He whispers as he bends to expose his neck to my nose. Inhale deeply. And Oh the scent… Familiar. Right. Moan against the throat. Teeth itching. And I'm sucking again, and groaning. Sucking great mouthfuls of him. He's remarkable. Tastes similar to the Irishman, much less heady and thick, but there is still an imperceptible likeness.

"There ye are, William. Penn is yer brother in blood. Can ye taste this?"

"Ah, yes."

"Would you like to touch me, brother?"

"I would."

"Ah, do."

Brother guides my hand beneath his trousers. A very thick shaft fills my fingers. And while this is the first time I've felt another man, it doesn't displease me. The swell of arousal washing through my being fills me with lust. And is this not sin? But I can not think of the Devils with pitchforks chasing me through the depths of Hell. Not now, because his hips are gyrating against my closed fist, and my fingers seem to want more. There are prickling sensations against my flesh, as if it's awakening. As if I'd been numb. All these years, numb.

"Be mindful, Penn… he's yet a Pup."

"Aye…"

My handsome new brother lifts his form from mine. My fingers close around empty air. My hand aches to be filled with him again, and I whimper. Yet the whimper sounds like some class of beast. Is this the spirit within me? The Devil? This God the Irishman speaks of?

"Penn will prepare ye fer me, William. Ye mustn't be frightened. Tis fine if ye release with the bliss of it."

"Prepare me for you? For what are we to do?"

"Fer our couplin', young one."

Our coupling? However can that work? He mustn't mean… That is to say… This can not be.

"I… don't understand."

"When we're coupled, yer joined with me. Yer body will awaken to the sensations ye'll be feelin'. Ye'll become a proper Vampire. A source of pride to yer clan."

"My clan? Are you my clan?"

"Aye… I'm yer Sire, lad."

"My Father?"

"Not as yer mortal father. Not borne from my seed. Borne from my desire, to be sure. Ah, and my desire fer ye is great."

"You desire me?"

"Aye."

And why is this comforting to me? As though his desire for me is all I seek. His focused adoration is exhilarating. I crave this.

"Sire… you'll be so pleased."

"Tell, Penn… "

"He is untouched. Unbroken."

"I had no doubt."

"Perfect, pink… responsive."

There is groaning behind me now.

"Ah, responsive, are ye lad? Will ye clench fer me? Clench around me?"

"Will it please you?"

"Aye, William."

"I'll do as you bid."

"Yer callin' out a lust in me, boy… I'll need release afore I enter ye."

Brother smiles at him. A moment passes between them. Perhaps brother will give him this release. Oh, but I crave it. Unexplainable. And I can not bring myself to question this… as though the part of me that would is somehow slipping away.

"Do not be frightened, brother. I'll begin preparing you at once."

And I'm not frightened as I watch this man dip between my thighs. My body lurches forward, a cold and wet tongue slides delicately across my backside.

"Shh, m'boyo… shh, now."

"I… I…I…"

"Shh, my love."

My belly trembles and quakes. This tongue of brothers' is lapping and gently stroking against me. I hear a high pitched whine, like a terrified animal. It can't be me. But there is purring behind me, and I can not help but be comforted by the sound. Turn my head to nuzzle the Irishman again. There is comfort here. There is.

"Gently, Penn… mindful, aye?"

The tongue against me halts, and that round face with the soft grey eyes rises between my parted legs.

"Aye, but Sire… Have a look, will you? It's precious."

I feel my body being lifted, the back of my head sliding down the torso it rested against. My backside is offered up to the Irishman as my body is bent in half.

"Ah, William… I canna help me'self at the sight o' this."

Such a passionate moan that sings its' way through the words, my member feels as though it'll burst. And suddenly the Irishman has pressed his lips against the offering and I'm spilling, and moaning as the tongue invades my body. Spilling… arms flailing and…Oh Lord… Where are you? This Fiend is bringing me pleasure as I've never known. Every pore in my body seems to split open at his touch.

"Sire, he's completed… look."

And now I'm flush against the bed, and a pair of unearthly animals are feeding from the wetness on my belly. Tongues flat and rough against my flesh, and there is electricity here. It needles my skin, causing the hairs to stand on end, and this stiffness between my thighs will not relent. It pokes and prods against the emptiness. The voltage crackles around my head, and my hands are reaching aimlessly into the air. Grabbing for nothing, and for everything all at once.

"Please… please… I must…"

"He needs the touch, Sire."

"Aye, undress me, lad."

There are whispers of clothing cutting through the current, and with alarming speed, both men are before me, bare. Their arousals jutting out with pride from soft curls that frame the base. Have I never seen a bared man before? I can't seem to recall. They're fascinating. Hard lines, and taut muscles. Curves of flesh wrapped flawlessly over these perfect creatures. Soft shadows ripple and dance across their skin as the oil lamps in the room flicker. There are lamps. Lamps and fine tapestries. Why had I not noticed before? My senses seem heightened. A large hand grasps mine, halting the movement. My hand was flailing on its' own. How can this be? My body reacting by instinct? I'm feeling drawn into my skin. The hand guides me to my Masters groin. Master. Why do I regard him as my Master? Because it pleases me.

"Bring me to release, William."

The body of the Irishman is on all fours. My arm extended beneath the massive form. My hand intuitively pumps at his swelling, and another pulse of static courses through me. Rain. It smells like rain. Is there a lightning storm outside? Is this where it's coming from? There is a current here. Though I can not put my finger on it. My fingers. Wrapped around my Master. Stroking him. Move myself beneath his face, and stare up in wonder. His eyes smile. His lips quiver. He enjoys my hand. Wordless communication. Is this possible?

"Penn… Childe… Help me along."

The soft moan of lust is quickly followed by a dipping of the bed. Behind the Irishman's knees I see another pair of legs positioning themselves at the rear of him. I watch with peculiar interest, vacillating my eyes from the scene between the thighs and the angelic face above me. I hear the sound of wetness, a thumping, a smacking, and I know. The man who calls me brother has filled the Irishman. The Master. This doesn't repel me. And I am not envious. Inherently I know… it's not my time yet. This Master of mine has a face so contorted in pleasure, it's akin to agony.

"Bring yer lips to mine, William."

His body bends, and mine rises, the motion from the thrusting hips pushes his member back and forth between my fingers. Our lips meet. Oh Lord… if this is Hell… then let me stay, as I'm riding this mans' lips into heaven. Sweet and soft, wet and yielding. A gentle tongue sweeping broad strokes across my palate. A soft rumbling in my chest. My fingers gripping tighter along the length of pulsating muscle in my fist and my own aches in neglect. Dampness coating my fingers as the lips against mine tremble, moaning into my mouth, and a gasp, and he's breathing in my groans… and wetness spurts out of him, splattering against my wrist, and my arm and I'm compelled to deepen the kiss, as though I can drink him in through the pleasure of it.

"Sire… oh so much… where shall you have me?"

His lips release mine.

"Inside, Penn… inside, Childe."

And again, the hips rock violently against the Masters' backside. They still, and the knees between his thighs shake. They shudder. Hands on his hips grip tightly, and Masters' eyes are closed in careful concentration. In sweet torturous ecstasy. The body on top slumps forward, a worshipful kiss is placed on the shoulder.

"Collect the women, sweet boy."

The large hand softly runs down brothers' face, brother leans into the touch.

"It is time, then?"

"Tis."

Brother is gone. I am alone with the Irishman.

"What shall I call you?"

"An' what would ye like to be callin' me?"

"I hear brother call you Sire…"

"Would that please ye?"

"I believe… and then Master is in my head."

There is a broad smile fixed firmly across the dark mans' features.

"An' where did ye hear that, my pup?"

"I can not recall."

"The spirit in ye is awakenin'. Yer aware o' yer place."

"What will it be like?"

"What's that?"

"Our coupling. Will it hurt?"

"Nah, lad… I'll no hurt ye. Tis not my intent."

"Why did you send brother to fetch the women?"

"Tis a ritual. Ye'll be welcomed to the fold proper."

"Did you do this with brother?"

"Aye, and Drusilla, who is the dark beauty you met in your cleansin'."

"And the fair one?"

"That is Darla, head o' the clan."

"Over you?"

"Aye."

"I can not fathom."

"She is powerful, beyond what ye know."

"Will she approve of me?"

"Tis scripted in stone, lad. Ye belong to us now. Ye'll be cared fer, and taught, loved and tended to, in all ways."

"Why?"

"Because ye were chosen. Hand selected by us four."

"Brother, too?"

"Aye… "

"And shall I call him brother?"

"Ye'll call him, Penn, brother, whatever be yer wish."

"And Darla?"

"Ye'll call her Sire or Darla."

"I see."

"Are ye feelin' alright, then?"

"Yes."

I watch as he drapes his body next to mine. Sire. A name befitting him. Large. Shock of black hair. Kind dark eyes. Powerful. The stirring in my loins as I scan his body causes my member to twitch against me. But I do not feel shame. His hand comes to rest on my chest, and a kiss is placed on my shoulder. We lie in wait for the group. Whatever this ritual holds, it will be alright. Because Sire is here.

The heavy door creaks open, and in walks the most radiant woman I've seen. Darla. Sire. Smiling sweetly.

"Has the coupling begun?"

Her voice is like syrup, melting over me. She smiles into her words. I feel my body fill with adoration for her. She is power. Somehow I sense it. The purest of us all. Small, delicate frame… but there's something intangible surrounding her. Something ancient. Formidable. She strides to the bed with a graceful ease. Cupping my face in her hand, she licks her lips and tilts her head while examining me.

"Well well well, you are the precious one."

Her lips are so full, I want to press myself against them. I feel tears flood my eyes.

"Sire."

And it's hoarse, as I'm overcome by this torrent of emotion.

"There, there… what a lovely boy. These eyes should never know tears, my love. So blue… so very blue, they are."

A sob bubbles up from my chest. I am drawn to her. This power… hypnotic. Her face hovers close to mine now, and I smell the scent of family on her so pure, so much… The ruby lips rest against mine, impossibly soft. Another sob, and I'm hers. I know. As I belong to the Master, I belong to the Sire.

"Angelus… he is darling. What a wonderful addition."

"Ah, aye… but he loves ye, can ye feel it?"

"I do. Does he know we love him, too?"

"I'd venture ta say."

"Does he understand what's happening this evening?"

"Aye."

Her soft face turns to mine again. When she speaks, her lips quiver around the words.

"Tell me, sweet love… what will take place for you?"

"I'm to be coupled with by Sire."

"Yesss… very good, dearest."

With her words, I can feel myself leak against my stomach. I want so much to show her. To be what she wants.

"Isn't he a vision, Sire?"

Brother has slipped behind her, his hands fall to her tiny waist, where he plays with the strings from her bodice.

"My dear Penn… do you remember your night?"

"How could I forget?"

"I'll save that in my memory eternally, beloved Childe."

"As it will be in mine."

Shared and easy laughter between them, and they are now kissing passionately. I do not wish to avert my eyes. I drink in his naked form pressed against her gown, his arousal being toyed with by those small delicate fingers. My hand, once again, reaching for the air, and Sire, pulling it to his member.

"There ye are. Feelin' better, then?"

"Yes, thank you."

His eyes close, and his head sways as if in a trance, inhaling me.

"May I play, too, Daddy?"

The childlike voice sings out. Turn to see this dark goddess, beautiful blackened almond eyes. She is lovely beyond words. She spins on her toes in a pirouette, and gestures towards the heavens with her arms outstretched.

"Of course, my little plum. We wouldn't be after leaving you out."

She giggles and claps, and climbs onto the large bed. She's moving too quickly, and I recoil when her hand scratches at my leg. Burrow my head in Sires' neck. This time, I do not suck, as I am contented to breathe him in deeply.

"Drusilla girl! Behave, or t'will be the corner you'll be watchin' from."

"Yes, Daddy. Yes. I'm sorry, I'll play quietly."

"Now then, William is new. We mustn't frighten him."

"No. It upsets the birds in the air."

"Of course it does, pretty. Now settle in."

The bed creaks and groans from the weight of five bodies. I am still safe, nestled here in Sires' neck.

"Well let's see what we have, then."

Darla. Sire. Turn my head to face her, and her eyes are scanning my nakedness, yet I do not feel exposed. She smiles at me appreciatively, and lifts my member into her hand. My body trembles at the delicate inspection, she twists and turns the throbbing muscle, pulling back the hood, and revealing a shiny and wet peak. I begin to pant. Her thumb gently sweeps away the liquid, and she brings the thumb to her lips, tasting me. Her eyes close as if she's savoring it.

"Lovely, so rich, you are."

"Lift his sac, Sire… you'll enjoy the weight of it."

"Mm, finely crafted, indeed."

Those talented fingers roll me through this feather-light touch. I begin stroking hard against Sires' member in order to release some of this tension.

"Lad… lad, ye slow down… Shh… calm yerself."

"Sweet love… William, I'm going to part your legs now. Will you be still for me?"

"Yes, Sire…"

Her hands on my inner thighs, and I'm fighting against the urge to shiver, she presses them apart. I whimper, but do not move. I can hear Drusilla giggling and clapping and making delighted 'oh' and 'ah' sounds. Penn silences her by slipping a hand into her bodice, cupping and stroking at her breast beneath the fabric.

"Intact. Oh Angelus… You've picked one ripe for the plucking. Well done."

"Many thanks, m'lady."

"Draw his legs up, dear one."

"As ye wish."

Once again, my legs are folded and pressed against my chest. Darla is softly tickling around my exposed backside, and I break into whimpers. Her fingertips lightly tap, patting my tender flesh. I feel myself tighten in response.

"My love, you'll adore being inside this one."

He's groaning. My Sire. Stirrings inside of me. Leaking. Fingers skitter about my rear, a nail lightly draws over me. Brother is fondling Drusilla, and watching the motions of Darla's hand intently.

"Reveal her."

A quiet command from behind me. Brother unlaces the fabric, and… Oh… Her breasts are small and pert. Tiny dark nipples punctuate the milk white skin. I'm sure, though I can not recall, that I've never seen a woman's breasts. I'm breathing hard, and clenching my jaw.

"D'yer see them, William. Isn't she a vision?"

"Quite, Sire… Quite."

Brothers' hands caress the lovely mounds and her head falls back to his chest. Those full lips part and whisper…

"Spss… spss… spss… The beasts in the field do clamor."

"Aye, Princess."

Does he understand her? Her beauty is astounding. I can not take my eyes from the sight of elegant fingers pinching and massaging their way through the creamed flesh. I feel my chest heaving in gulps of air. Sire's hands continue tickling and working at me. I know not why I feel a throbbing where she touches. It wouldn't seem a likely place to derive arousal from, yet I am. As Angelus instructed, I listen to my body respond. Close my eyes and relax into the sensation.

"That's it, beautiful boy. Now you see."

"May I?"

"Please, darling…"

I sense brother approaching… his fingers join hers in gentle exploration. Tickling against me. Delighting themselves.

"Splendid."

"Marvelous, aye."

"Wholly receptive."

"Look how he tenses… "

"I see. Charming."

Drusilla. Her dark hair spilled around her bared shoulders. She's coming for me. Slithering towards me. Unearthly movements.

"May I taste him, Daddy?"

"Mind the teeth, Dru."

"Yes, I will. May I?"

"Aye."

And suddenly. So suddenly. Her mouth is on my backside, the fingers that moved away are replaced by her tongue. She's purring like a cat and I'm groaning loud, and gripping Sire's member. I throb there. I ache there. My own member bounces up and down on my belly. Long scrapes of her tongue and the sounds that are coming from my lips are inhuman. Close my eyes and see black wings behind the lids… black wings stretching out… spanning. Feathers… black feathers… Awakening from a deep sleep. Fluttering against me, folding me in.

"D'yer think he'd be ready, then loveliest?"

"Oh yes, watch him flower."

"Little plum… prepare me for him."

"Yes Daddy…"

Her voice is lilting, but her eyes glitter with excitement. My hand is removed from his organ. Drusilla is slathering his member with the oil they worked on me earlier. My knees still pressed to my chest, and the oil is poured over brothers' fingers, and Darla's. Slippery, now. Three pairs of hands play along my rear. I feel myself opening to their touch. Throbbing … for what, I do not know. Aching… opening… unfolding…. More… I long for more… and I whimper. Because I do not know what I'm longing for. Do not know what I'm crying for. Entrance? It wouldn't seem so. It doesn't seem quite fathomable. But I feel my hips rise, and try like mad to spread my legs farther.

"Oh, Angelus… Will you look?"

"I see…"

So breathy beside me… and his body moves away… More… More… Aching inside. Empty… Fill me… Fill me…

"Aye, lad…"

And am I begging? Am I pleading aloud? Am I imploring this fiend to open me further? I am. I am. Please… More. Open me. The fingers skitter away, and a quiet descends on the room. Quiet except for my open mouthed sobs… my pleading. I can hear my voice ringing out.

"Fill me… more… please, I beg of you…"

"Ah, William… I will, sweet one. Keep yerself open for me."

I do. My body lifts, and I reach between my thighs to spread myself. For what? For him. For Sire. There is a bluntness at the site of my ache. Much larger than the fingers. Oh… this I need. This I crave. Open me. The pressure pushes forward, and I feel myself stretch. Relief hanging in the air. Walking the ledge. More. More. Stretching around. Discomfort is brief, through the pain, the pleasure sings to me. I listen. Listen hard. My body yielding. Slowly the intensity in my rear unwinds, and I feel thickness as I've never felt. Full, as I've ever felt. Complete, as I've ever felt.

"Sire…"

The word is sobbed out.

"Ah, but ye are… ye are mine, my Childe."

Everywhere, his scent floods me. I can feel it slide over my flesh, as his fingers do.

"Oh… God…Ah… Sire."

"Come alive, William. Come alive fer me."

And he wants me to clench, and I clench. And he wants me to move, and I do. And my arms wrap tightly around him, and I move for him. Only for him. His body pushes me open, and seals me shut. His sex pulses within me. And I feel the ache inside me burning for him. Burning me. Rendering me. My knees pressed against his sides, supple flesh moves along them. His quiet words echo in my ears.

"My boy… my sweet boy. Give yerself to me."

"I have. I am. I will."

A vow.

"Eternally, my love."

"For all time."

His lips fall to my neck, as if by instinct. This act sends shivers and tremors through me. There is a piercing, and I'm crying out in pleasure. He drinks from me, he takes me in. The forms around the bed move quickly now. A woman's hand comes into view. Long slender fingers on his shoulder. Dark ringlets spill across his back, and Drusilla is drinking from his shoulder. Brother is holding up her wrist, and his features are flickering until he shifts into the most magnificent beast, and he slices into her arm with blinding speed, his own extending to Darla… her features shift, and I feel myself swell… I swell, and ache… and the burning inside intensifies, and I feel the movement of blood beneath my skin. Darla is drinking from brother, and her arm extends to me. Inherently, I know. Bite into the offering… and everything fades to black.

The wings bat at my eyes. Seer. Vicious. Hypnotic. Power. Engraver. Passionate. Disregard. It's them… it's all of them. Sire. Strong. Lethal. Darla. Agile. Cunning. I'm one of them. I'm one of them. Their fluids flow through me in a circle. Each drink making me stronger. They're bestowing their strengths to me. Gifting me with protection. With immunity. I am home. I am home. I am reborn. I am home. I am.