This was written in conjunction with my girlfriend... More updates as I write more of it...

With a sigh, the young woman lifted herself off the bed and stretched her sinuous body. The night air drifting in the window was cool on her skin, and moonlight silhouetted her naked frame as she strode across the small room. She picked up a dress from the back of a desk chair, held it up appraisingly, and placed it back down, laughing gently. A second dress was picked up, and this one she shrugged over her head.
Clothed now in a floor length dress, cut low over the bodice but otherwise undistinguishable in the poor light, she crossed back to the bed, and gazed lovingly down at the two still forms in it. A young man and a young woman, both looking to be about 18, lay stretched out on the bed, limbs intertwined and hair intermingled. The young woman smiled down on the two of them, and brought a hand up to her mouth to wipe away the last of the blood that trickled down her lips. Reaching out, she brushed back the hair from the other woman’s neck. There, on the nape of the neck, was a large bruise, reminiscent of those common to lovemaking, but culminated by two holes in the center, almost like a bite. Blood trickled gently from the bite marks, and the young woman over the bed bent down and gently licked it away. The young woman on the bed shifted slightly, rolling half back to look up at the other.
“Shh,” breathed the woman over the bed, “Go back to sleep, Anne, it’s alright.”
Anne sighed, and closed her eyes. The woman looked at the other on the bed, but he was no longer there. She spun, dress whirling beneath her, and was caught around the waist by the young man who had shared the bed with Anne.
“Damon!” she hissed, trying to sound furious, “what are you doing?”
“Ah, my darling Cassandra,” He laughed gently, “don’t you wish you knew?”
Cassandra began to protest, but he kissed her, and stole her words away. As they kissed, her hands rose to rest around his neck, and she felt wetness. She pulled her hands away, and they were red in the moonlight.
“Damon,” she began, but he cut her off.
“I’m still bleeding freely.” His whisper caused her to shiver slightly. “Bleeding for you.”
Almost trembling, she swept his hair aside, revealing a mark like the one on Anne’s neck. She raised her mouth to the mark, and he lowered his neck to meet it. She bit gently, sharp canine teeth easily re-puncturing the already tender flesh, and began to drink the blood that spilled forth.
Damon sighed in a mix of pain and pleasure as her teeth punctured his skin and she drank his blood. This was his life, his joy. She was his mistress, a young vampire of surpassing beauty and charm, and he was her thrall. One day, he would turn, become a full blooded vampire, but for now, he was hers. His was the blood she took most regularly, his was the company she preferred. In her turn, she protected him, gave him the promise of immortality. She was everything to him, the goddess of his world.
He must have been moaning louder than he thought, for Anne stirred again. She hurriedly moved aside as Cassandra and Damon collapsed back onto the bed, kissing passionately. Blood flowed from Damon’s neck with renewed vigor, leaving crimson trails down his chest. Anne leaned in and stole Cassandra’s lips from him, and the two women kissed fervently, Damon’s blood flowing back and forth between their mouths. He, in turn, reached down to the hem of Cassandra’s dress and lifted it up over her head, leaving her naked once again. As Cassandra removed her dress, Damon and Anne kissed, Damon shuddering to taste his blood on her lips. As they kissed, Cassandra walked to the head of the bed. Reaching out, she grasped Anne’s wrists, and slowly fastened handcuffs around them. Anne looked up in shock, but before she could react, Cassandra had attached the cuffs to the headboard, and was back on the bed. She and Damon kissed as Anne struggled against the cuffs to reach them. Finally they broke off, and leaned in against Anne’s neck. Damon nuzzled and kissed her, whereas Cassandra bit and drank. Anne writhed and shook with pleasure at the dual stimulation, and her cries grew continuously louder as the other two began to caress her body. They took it turns to kiss her and suck her breasts, while continually massaging lower and lower. Finally, their hands reached the juncture of her thighs, penetrated the nest of hair, and entered her. Anne gasped in shock; no one had ever touched her like that before, and now there were two hands, belonging to two separate people, probing her secrets. Damon tenderly inserted a finger between her lower lips and began to thrust it in and out of her virgin pussy. Cassandra, meanhwhile, rubbed Anne’s clit, occasionally pinching it between her thumb and forefinger.
“Oh, god… mmmh, yes! Oh, YES!” Anne moaned loudly, and ceased speaking comprehensibly. She screamed, but Cassandra clamped her lips over Anne’s mouth, turning the shriek back into a repressed squeal.
Cassandra broke off their kiss, and locked lips with Damon instead. They kissed and bit, tongues flashing back and forth, all the while fingering Anne.
“Oh, GOD!!!” Anne panted again, before practically fainting from pleasure.
“Damon will do,” he shot back.
Cassandra poked him, and he twitched, laughing. Her eyes lit up, and she began to tickle him. Her hands danced up and down his sides, tickling, poking, and scratching. He writhed in mirth, trying to avoid her attack without falling off the small bed the three of them shared. Finally, he grabbed, first her right wrist, then her left. She struggled to free her hands, but he held her too tightly. Grabbing both wrists in the same hand, he quickly stretched out and tickled quickly behind her left ear, the only spot on her body that seemed to affect her. She shrieked in mirth and anger, then wrenched both hands away, but he caught them again in a matter of seconds. She twisted and writhed in his grip, but he refused to let go. After several seconds, she began to pout.
“Let go of my wrists!”
“No.”
“I want them back,” she said, in a voice somewhere between a whisper and a whimper.
“Nope,” he responded, without a hint of mercy.
“Pweeeze?” Her eyes opened wide, and her lip curled into even more sensuous a pout than it had been.
“Nuh-uh,” he chuckled, “you can’t have them back because you’d tickle me again.”
“No I wouldn’t!” she said, indignantly, “Now give them back!”
“No.”
They continued as such for almost two full minutes, arguing back and forth like small children, until Cassandra wrenched her arms again and something in her wrist popped.
“OW!” she exclaimed. “You hurt my wrist!”
Damon, who had released her wrists as soon as it popped, denied it, “I did no such thing! You hurt it yourself because you struggle to damn much!”
“Do not talk back to me,” she began, voice suddenly full of rage. “You hurt my wrist. You ought to be severely punished for that!”
Damon’s manner changed at once. Voice tremulous, he begged her for mercy. “Oh, please, mistress,” he began, speaking softly and timidly, “don’t punish me! I’m sorry!”
“How sorry?” she asked, her voice full of false sweetness.
“I’m very sorry, mistress,” he answered. At the same time, he slunk down, tilting his head back, exposing his neck in submission to her.
“We’ll see how sorry you are after you’ve been sufficiently punished, I think.”
Cassandra lay back against the foot of the bed, and gestured for Damon to follow.
“Now, you will eat my pussy, and we will see just how sorry you are!”
Damon smiled, knowing that this was less a punishment, and more Cassandra trying to satisfy her desires. His grin widened, and his manner changed from that of a submissive to that of a man about to eat a perfect pussy. He leaned close to her, simply breathing in the delicious scent of her.
“Mmh,” he murmured, “du riechst so gute!” (You smell so good!)
He leaned in again, and this time he planted a kiss on her outer lips, which made her shift a bit.
“Quit teasing,” she demanded, “or I may find a more suitable punishment!”
He leaned in and licked her, his tongue penetrating her outer lips, causing a flood of her juices to spill forth. Gently, he licked her again, and then plunged his tongue into her. She moaned softly as his tongue penetrated her, and louder as he licked up to her clit. He gently inserted a finger into her tight pussy, amazed that no matter how much he fingered her, how much they fucked, she always seemed tight as a virgin. As he gently slipped his finger in and out of her, he began to pay special attention to her clit. He began by simply licking it, but quickly progressed to forcefully dragging his tongue across it so as to increase the amount of pressure he put on it. Her moans increased accordingly. Finally, when he had her worked up enough that he could have drowned in her sexual juices, he slurped at her clit as if he were drinking through a straw, and then, very gently, bit it. She gasped, short of breath, and he did it again. He continued to finger her and alternate licking and nibbling her clit until she could not control herself.
“Oh, Damon, yes, god, oh, Damon, more, oh, yes, yes, yes, oh god, yes Damon, just like that, oh god, yes, oh, yes master, make me scream, oh Damon, oh, more, just like that, oh god, how do you always know, yes, more, oh…”
She put a hand on his head and pushed it away from her, but the look in her eyes screamed that it pained her to do so.
“I don’t want to pass out just now,” she offered as explanation.
Damon crawled up until he could kiss her.
“Kiss me now,” he demanded, “while your juices are fresh on my lips.”
Cassandra obeyed him, desperately kissing him, hard and fast, without biting, simply trying to kiss him until she could only taste his tongue. Damon kissed back, but reservedly. He let her spend herself on desperate kisses while he marveled at the fact that she had not only listened to his orders, but had gone so far as to call him master, something she had never done before.
It didn’t take long for Cassandra to realize that Damon was not responding to her kisses with the passion that he usually did. Slowly she pulled away, hating to stop for even a moment and asked, “What’s the matter?” Damon sighed and looked at her with some measure of trepidation.
“Well, you said something, something you’ve never said before. You called me master.”
Cassandra sat up and cocked her head to the side, trying to remember anything beyond the pleasure she had felt only a few minutes before. “I did. Well, I just finally feel like I can give up control when I’m with you. It’s like I don’t have to watch myself every second to make sure that I am in control. I can trust you,” at this she looked away, a little embarrassed at her confession.
Damon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This strong, dominant woman not only called him ‘master’ but seemed to be telling him that she trusted him enough to submit or at least to give up control. “Gods, I can’t believe how much I love you.”
Cassandra looked relieved at this and leaned in to kiss him once more. Damon smiled and accepted her kiss. The two began to kiss with greater intensity and Cassandra leaned farther into him, wishing desperately to become one flesh. Her hand, which had been tangled in his hair slowly trailed down his neck and drew patterns across his chest. She used her nails to tease and torment him as their tongues entwined. Soon her hand drifted even lower.
“Hmm, a little excited are we?” she whispered in his ear with a small smile.
“Only a little,” he replied, arching his back a little. He gasped as Cassandra continued their kiss while encircling him with her small hand. He sat up straighter and wrapped both arms around her, trying to pull her in as close as was humanly possible. Realizing the inevitable, Cassandra pulled away and glanced at Anne. Anne had fallen back asleep at this point; she knew that the two of them needed some time alone. She turned back to Damon who had been watching her with a curious expression. “Why don’t we let her sleep?”
Damon, misreading her suggestion, looked disappointed but grudgingly agreed.
Cassandra realizing what he must have thought laughed. She said, “No, silly. Let’s go to my room.”
At this, Damon immediately perked up and started to stand and gather his clothes. Cassandra giggling rose from the bed and shrugged her dress back on. She crossed the room and waited by the door and Damon struggled into his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head. Cassandra stepped into the hall of the townhouse the three of them shared. It was Cassandra’s home that she had ‘inherited’ from her dear Great Aunt Cassandra when she died. While it suited her purposes to attend a university when she tired of the decadent life, it did not mean that she was going to live in one of the dorms.
Cassandra lightly glided down the stairs to the basement where her rooms were. Damon followed after her, as quickly as he could. When they reached the bedroom, Cassandra swept inside and lit several candles and a stick of her favorite jasmine incense. Damon closed the door and came up behind her as she blew out the match. He put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. Cassandra smiled and arched into him. Encouraged, Damon began to slide his hands over her. She made a small noise of pleasure and squirmed under his capable hands. She turned and faced him when she could take the teasing no longer. Although she only spoke one word, he understood her meaning clearly: “Bed.”
Damon didn’t waste a second, but quickly crossed to the bed and made himself comfortable. Cassandra hesitated only a moment, simply enjoying the sight of Damon in her bed. She soon joined him however and they picked up right where they had left off in Anne’s room. After a few minutes however, Damon pulled back and asked, “You said you trusted me. Does that mean you trust me enough to turn me now?”
Cassandra who had been wearing an expression of surprise when he had first pulled away, now gave him a measuring look. After a very long pause she said, “I think you may be ready. But I warn you, it is painful.”
“I can deal with pain,” Damon said, trying to look unafraid.
Cassandra just barely stopped herself from smiling at his bravado. “I know sweetie. But this is the most excruciating pain you can imagine.” She pushed herself into a sitting position. “Well, if you think you are ready, I’m willing.”
“I am. I want to spend eternity with you. I want to make the dream to be together until the end of time a reality.”
“Alright. Well, you will need to fight and feel some pain, but I could make it easier and more pleasurable.”
“Why do I need to fight?”
Cassandra sighed. “Well, traditionally most vampires are turned against their will or by accident. So they fight when their system begins to shut down. This makes them stronger. It takes great strength to break through the influence most vampires use to keep their prey complacent. And it takes even more to try and reject the blood.”
Damon swallowed hard and asked, “Well then, you said you could make it more pleasurable? How?”
“Like this,” Cassandra pushed Damon gently back against the pillows. She placed a leg on each side of him and lowered herself slowly onto him. She leaned forward and claimed his mouth again with her own. Slowly she began to move her hips against his and felt him respond immediately. Damon moaned as Cassandra changed rhythms and ran her nails up and down his chest. She slid her hands under his shirt and quickly drew it over his head and off. She drew back and let him lift her dress over her head and toss it aside. Cassandra smiled and began to unfasten the button on his jeans. In a moment she had them off. Now that there was nothing between them, Cassandra began to kiss and lick Damon’s chest. She left sporadic bite marks whenever the mood struck her to do so and enjoyed his quick inhalations of surprise and pleasure. Abandoning his chest for the moment, she returned to kissing him. As they kissed, Damon began to lift his hips in a quick rhythm. Cassandra pulled back and smiled as she said, “Not quite yet my dear. Wouldn’t want to rush things now would we?” She smiled that evil smile that drove Damon insane with a mixture of equal parts of anticipation and annoyance. She bent down again, but this time focused her attention on his neck. Cassandra nibbled all along the curve of his neck but never broke skin and never drew blood. But just the feel of her teeth seemed to drive Damon wild.
Groaning he said, “Gods, how do you manage to get me this hard? I didn’t think it was possible.”
Cassandra did not reply but allowed herself a small smile as she gave a particularly hard bite. She thoroughly enjoyed his gasp.
Soon he was begging her to take him inside her. All he wanted was to be inside her and to know that they belonged together, joined as one flesh. Cassandra stopped her tormenting and raised up enough for Damon to position himself at her entrance. Before he could react, Cassandra slid all the way down, taking him inside her in one quick motion. She paused for an instant, enjoying the feeling of completeness as he filled her perfectly. As she began to rock back and forth Damon moaned. She controlled the rhythm, speeding up and slowing down, making sure that he would last. Soon though Damon grabbed her hips and pushed her down harder with each thrust. Cassandra let her head fall back as he reached deeper and deeper inside her.
“That’s right. Teach me what a man should do to a woman. Make me feel every inch of you,” she could only gasp these words as she rapidly reached her own climax. She leaned down and bit his earlobe as she felt the waves of pleasure break over her. She could feel that he was coming to climax and moved her mouth to his neck. As he came deep inside her, she bit and began to drain his blood. His cries of pleasure gave way to cries of pain. He struggled as he felt his life slip away. She listened for any signs of second thoughts. But Damon never expressed any remorse for his decision. When she had drained all she could, bringing him to the brink of death, she drew back and bit her own wrist. Offering it to him she told him to drink. He grabbed her wrist and began to suck. She let him go until she knew he had had enough to turn. She tugged her wrist away from his mouth.
“That’s enough. Now sleep my love.” Damon sighed in annoyance of being denied the blood but did as Cassandra told him. She looked at his sleeping form, brushed a hair out of his face and reluctantly slid off the bed. She glided back up the stairs and went to go check on Anne.

As she reached the top of the stairs, Cassandra was struck by a wave of dizziness. Unable to walk straight, she stumbled into Anne’s room and collapsed onto the bed. Anne mumbled something sleepily and cuddled closer to her. Cassandra’s head was spinning violently, a feeling she had not experienced since she was a thrall herself, many and more years ago. Her last conscious thought was that it must have something to do with the turning.
Anne awoke to the sound of the birds the next morning. As it was a Saturday, she had no classes, but planned to go into the University to pick up a few hours at work. Still half asleep, she snuggled up closer to Cassandra. It wasn’t until she wrapped an arm around her mistress’s waist that she realized something was wrong. Cassandra and Damon had shared Cass’s bed in the basement since the three of them had started living together. To wake up and find Cassandra in her bed must mean something was wrong, certainly the night before, possibly now.
Anne jumped out of bed, not noticing that Cassandra never stirred, and threw on the dress she had worn the night before. She sprinted down the stairs, and burst into Cassandra’s room. Her heart stopped as she saw Damon lying in the bed, a gash much larger than any she had seen adorning the side of his neck. She ran to him, shook him, but he did not stir.
“Damon!” She begged, as she began to check for a pulse, “Damon, wake up!”
Damon did not move. She checked his neck and wrist, even laid her head down on his chest to listen for a heartbeat, but she found nothing.
Sobbing, she ran from the room. She took the steps two at a time, and returned to her room, where Cassandra lay in exactly the same position she had held when Anne left.
Anne stumbled to the bed and fell on her knees looking face to face with Cassandra.
“Cassandra! Wake up! Please, there’s something wrong with Damon!”
Anne’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Cassandra neither responded nor moved at all. Anne reached out and shook her shoulder, begging her to move, to respond in any way. Even though some part of her knew it was senseless, she reached out and felt for a pulse on the side of Cassandra’s neck, and found nothing. She took Cassandra’s wrist to find a pulse, and found a bite mark. It was in that moment that Anne knew what had occurred; Cassandra had tried to turn Damon. But it seemed that the attempt had cost them both their lives.
Weeping, Anne picked up Cassandra, cradling her close, and carried her down into the basement. There, she laid Cassandra’s limp body in the bed next to Damon, then checked on Damon again. Finding nothing, she wandered out of the room in a daze, her body choosing the destination as her mind reeled. She knew that she could not call traditional authorities. They would never be able to help Cassandra, a mistress, and if Damon had been turned, they would face the same problems with him. In addition, she would not subject the bodies of two people she had loved to the indignity of a scientific investigation.
Anne spent the day fretting around the house, trying to decide what to do. She checked on Damon and Cassandra almost incessantly, and wished for answers just as often. As night fell, Anne suddenly began to feel a power emanating from all directions. She felt as if she was slightly off the nexus of a great event. While she could not explain the power, it soothed her.
Throughout the evening and into the night, the power continued to build, until the energy was an almost palpable storm raging through the house and the surrounding yard. At 2am, exactly 24 hours after Damon was turned, Anne turned and left Cassandra’s room yet again. Without warning, she felt a sharp, piercing pain on the side of her neck. Her knees buckled, and another pain joined the first, but on the opposite side of her neck. Anne gasped out loud, her breath coming faster and faster as two sets of fangs drained her blood.
Without warning, the second pair of fangs to hit her neck was lifted, and Anne’s heart soared as she heard Cassandra’s voice.
“Enough, Damon,” Cassandra commanded. “We don’t want to bleed our little one dry.”
Anne breathed a sigh of relief and regret as the second pair of fangs lifted away from her neck, leaving her feeling drained but exhilarated.
She turned, and there they stood, framed in the light of the doorway, and looking as beautiful as any god and goddess Anne had ever seen. The stress of the day finally broke past her mental numbness, and, coupled with her relief at seeing them ‘alive’, she collapsed in her own turn. Damon caught her and carried her gently upstairs to the kitchen. She stirred, and tried to stand of her own power, but Cassandra commanded her to sit, and she was unable to resist the power in her mistress’s voice. As Damon set about brewing tea, Cassandra began questioning Anne.
“What happened tonight? The last thing I remember was coming upstairs to check on you, since you seemed a little worn out earlier. How did I wind up back down in my room?”
Anne sat, shocked, rage building within her. Finally, she exploded. She briefly appreciated the looks of shock on Damon and Cassandra’s faces as she screamed at them.
“Tonight? TONIGHT!?! You left me last night! I had fallen asleep, and I assume you went to go fuck, and then I wake up and you’re both dead! Do you have any idea…”
“Enough!” Cassandra’s voice cracked like a whip, easily silencing Anne even though her voice had been rising to a hysterical crescendo. “Now, calmly, tell me what happened.”
Anne, still shocked, slowly, and, with great effort, calmly, explained waking up with Cassandra in her bed, and going to check on Damon, assuming there had been yet another stupid fight. She described her day spent nervously wasting time, hoping for answers, and her reluctance to seek traditional help. Finally, she explained the rising feeling of power, the energy she had felt building before the resurrection. Damon and Cassandra both listened to her narrative with rapt attention; the teapot boiled for a number of minutes before Anne’s tale was done and Damon could shut it off. He set a cup of boiling tea in front of each of them, and Anne brought her story to a close.
“And then you were sucking my blood,” She thought a moment, then added, “I know this might be a bad guide, but I’m fairly familiar with the legends and stories of vampires, and I don’t ever remember a 24 hour gap between turning and awakening.”
Cassandra shifted guiltily, and Anne gave her a piercing, questioning look. Cassandra stayed silent for a minute, and then began her explanation. “It is a very rare thing, for there to be a coma between turning and awakening. My master, a very long time ago, told me about the legends, but I thought they were only that. I was told that the coma is only experienced by those with very great destiny ahead, or great sorrow.”
Silence greeted her announcement. For several minutes, the only sound was the sloshing of tea as the three of them sipped at it. As the clock in the hall struck 3am, Anne fell asleep at the table. Her cup slipped from her hands, and tea spilled across the table. She awoke instantly as it dripped into her lap, and moved to clean it up, but Cassandra shook her aside. The three of them, by silent consensus, walked up the stairs to Anne’s room, and fell into her bed. With a flurry of whispered arguments, and eventually “I love you”’s, they settled into reasonably comfortable positions and fell asleep.

The next week passed oddly for the three. As Damon was newly turned, he was unable to spend much time in the sun, and thus skipped all his classes for the week. His teachers were likely not surprised, because he missed classes fairly regularly. By Monday night, however, a problem had arisen. As kind as Anne was, and as much as she loved Cassandra and Damon, she simply did not have enough blood to support them both. Cassandra, having turned her first thrall, was entitled to adopt Anne as her own, but her love for Damon kept her from doing so. Damon, as a new immortal, was entitled to find a thrall of his own, but he intended to spend his immortality with Cassandra, and so he was unwilling to do so. The need for blood, though, was overwhelming, and so on Monday night, Cassandra and Damon drove to the university they attended. When they arrived, they went their separate ways, each going deeper into campus, looking for secluded areas.

Damon found his first; he had spent many hours wandering the area at night before he moved in with Cassandra. There was a perfect alley between two buildings, dark, secluded. He leapt onto the roof of one building, and waited. Less than five minutes later, a lone figure walked down the alley. From the stumble, Damon could tell he was drunk, which was no surprise at their school. Resolutely, as his prey passed, Damon dropped down behind him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and sunk his teeth into the other’s jugular. The attacked gasped, but was otherwise silent. Damon drank long and deep, ingesting more blood than he ever had before. He drained his victim of all blood, letting him fall just before the last drop passed into his mouth. He stretched, wiping the blood off his mouth, glorying in the feelings the meal had given him. He could feel the starlight shining bright on his skin, could hear the music from a party several blocks away, could sense the heat fading from the corpse at his feet. As he remembered the body lying on the ground before him, he set to work. He lifted the body, and, after checking all directions, left the alley. Less than 50 yards away, there were a series of maintenance ducts, into the largest of which Damon dumped the body. His dark work complete, his thirst sated, he returned to the car to await his love.

Cassandra, meanwhile, was waiting in a stretch of trees not far from a prayer grove. She grinned, wondering what she, a pagan, was doing at a catholic university, but it seemed that there was indeed a higher power, which had put her with Damon and Anne. Her reverie was interrupted by the giggling and shrieking of a pack of drunken girls stumbling back to the dorm not far from where Cassandra stood. She watched as four girls passed by, with a fifth, obviously much more intoxicated than her friends, stumbling 15 yards behind. The trailing girl tripped on a piece of uneven sidewalk, and cried out to her friends as she fell. Her friends, however, did not hear her, and Cassandra seized her opportunity. Stepping quietly out of the grove, she walked over to the fallen, and, gripping her by the shoulders, pulled her to her feet. The girl smiled at Cassandra, but Cass could tell the girl was not really seeing her, merely trying to be nice.
“Come on,” Cassandra started, “let’s get you inside.”
The drunk girl leaned on Cassandra, one arm slung over her shoulders. Cass steered her away from the door, and instead into the trees by the prayer grotto. The girl was so drunk that she didn’t even question it until Cassandra’s fangs sunk into her neck. The girl let out a short scream, but Cassandra had been ready for it and clamped a hand over the other’s mouth. The girl licked Cassandra’s palm, but Damon was rather childish and did that all the time, so Cassandra was able to resist the temptation to let go. She drank deep, taking her fill, until her thirst was fully quenched, which had not happened in a long time, since she had kept her thrall alive. As the girl’s limp body fell to the ground, Cassandra basked in the glory of the night. Her every sense was on fire with the thrill of the hunt, of a full draining. The noises of the insects and animals in the trees around her seemed as vibrant and clear as anything she had ever heard before. Feeling strong enough to do anything, she lifted the girl’s body like a rag-doll and carried her to the fountain in the center of the prayer grove. It was a large stone circle, and, when it wasn’t spraying water, like now, it reminded Cassandra of a sacrificial alter. She lay the girl down in as natural a position as she could, and went to join Damon.

They shared stories on the way back to Cassandra’s townhouse. Both were surprised that the other had decided to kill without discussing it, and Damon was particularly amused by Cassandra’s placement of the body. When they arrived home, Anne was waiting for them. When questioned, they said that the feeding had been a success. There was silence for several moments, and then Anne’s face wrinkled in confusion.
“What did you do after the feeding? Did they just walk away?”
“They didn’t walk away,” Damon answered. “You don’t walk far once you’re dead.”
Anne cringed. “You killed them?”
“We didn’t really have a choice, sweetie,” Cassandra answered.
“You killed them?” Anne repeated, horrorstruck.
“Yes, darling, we killed them to feed,” Damon replied.
“Why did you kill them? Cass, you’ve been feeding for months off Damon and I, and we’re still alive!”
“Well,” began Cassandra, “I’ve never taken my fill from you. Whenever I fed off of the two of you, I never drank my fill, was always hungry. That’s why I needed to feed everyday. This will hold me for several days, perhaps even a week.”
“And Damon?” Anne questioned.
“Two days, three if we’re lucky. He’s young, new to his immortality, and so he will need to feed often to keep his strength up, especially if he’s going to go out in the sun.”
“So you’re going to kill people every two or three nights? The university will flip. There’ll be cops everywhere; you’re going to get caught!”
Damon joined the conversation again. “What do you propose we do instead? Die? Unless Cass and I both adopt new thralls tomorrow, which isn’t likely, we’re going to need to do this again, and soon.”
“Feed, yes, fine, but don’t kill them!”
“How, sweetie, how?” Asked Cassandra, “How are we going to just walk up to someone, and suck their blood, then walk away?”
“Drink from several people. Get your fill, but from mixed sources. Pick drunks coming back from parties, they’ll think they’ve just got hickeys the next day. You both picked drunks tonight, they’re the easiest marks, I would imagine.”
Silence greeted her proclamation. Cassandra busied herself brewing tea, and Damon simply sat and watched the ground.
“Please,” implored Anne, “do you want that blood on your hands? Do you want to kill innocent people every night, or every week, for the rest of your immortal existences?”
“It’s a good idea, Anne,” Cassandra finally said, handing tea to each of them, “I think it will work.”
The next two days passed quietly. Since it had been several days since they had taken her blood, Anne was able to supply Damon with enough sustenance to last him until Friday, when it would be easier to find drunks in the abundance it would take to slake his thirst. Cassandra and Anne went to school and work, Damon stayed in the house and played videogames and guitar. The evenings were spent simply, watching movies and enjoying each other’s company. Cassandra and Damon acted as though nothing was different, but Anne began to act strangely. She was quiet, which was a shock, and she held back from the usual habits of watching movies while curled together, the three of them fitting into a place that was only meant for one.
“Do you know what’s wrong with Anne?” Cassandra asked Damon Wednesday night.
Damon, who was lying in the bed they shared, looked up languidly. “I don’t, but it’s beginning to worry me a little. She’s never been this quiet for this long.”
“I’m well aware of that, dear; I wonder what’s bothering her; is it the killings, is it your turning, is it the realization that we have each other forever and she has no one right now?”
“I think if we simply let her go for now, she’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
“That’s no help!” Cassandra played angry, then dove onto the bed ad began to tickle Damon. He resisted to the best of his ability, and then kissed her. Quickly, her attitude changed. She began to kiss back; her hands began to caress, then to scratch. She thrilled in his moans of pleasure and pain, the two sensations melding and becoming one. She bit deep into his neck, and, even though he was an immortal, and did not bleed, the sensation and the action were such that the two of them nearly died of pleasure. They kissed for some time more, but then lay down, and went to sleep, curled happily in each other’s arms.
Friday morning dawned clear and warm, the promise of a beautiful weekend fresh in the air. Cass and Anne stumbled through their classes, their minds elsewhere. After the end of the day, however, Anne didn’t meet Cassandra at her car. Twenty minutes after Anne was supposed to be there, Cass called her and furiously demanded to know where she was.
“I’m sorry,” came Anne’s reply. “I got a bit tied up organizing a project for my screenwriting class. You go on; I’ll get a ride back later, or stay the night in my old dorm if I can’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Cassandra, yes, I’m sure.”
“Ok, then. Bye sweetie!”
“Bye.”
Cassandra drove home on auto-pilot, her mind racing, wondering what Anne could be up to. When she returned home, the sound of explosions coming from the living room told her that Damon had not grown tired of his video games yet, so she went in to speak to him. It took her several moments to gain his focus away from the violence onscreen, but when she did, and told him about Anne, she had his full attention. They discussed possible explanations briefly, but soon decided that they should wait and see what Anne was up to, because they had plenty they could get up to themselves.

Smoke from an incense stick curled serenely through the flame of a lone candle, which provided the only light in the room. Quiet music played on the stereo, going through all genres, though light metal and goth rock seemed prevalent. Damon and Cassandra lay naked on her bed, their clothes in a disorderly pile on the floor. They were kissing with a passion born of desperation, as if it had been months, instead of days, since they had fucked. Cassandra’s hands were in a blur across Damon’s body, leaving long scratches as she tried to touch every inch of him at once. Damon’s right hand was buried in her hair, holding her mouth close to his. His left hand was buried between her thighs, his middle finger plunging in and out of her pussy. As his thrusts came faster and went deeper, her moans began to intensify. The scent of her arousal filled the room, filled Damon’s nostrils and made him mad with desire. Her pussy closed tight around his finger, warm and wet. He drove his finger deeper, the very tip brushing the entrance to her womb. She cried out, but the words caught in her throat, giver her cries a muffled, surreal air. She reached out, and grasped Damon’s hand, holding it tighter to her, forcing his finger to plunge deeper into her.
“Yes!” She moaned, “Deeper, harder!”
“You’re a dirty little slut,” he replied, and she shuddered to hear him call her names. “You’re a whore, holding my hand down, fucking yourself on my finger. Begging for me to finger fuck you harder, faster, deeper, you dirty little nymph!”
And he continued to finger her, and her cries grew louder.
“You’re a dirty little slut. Say it!” He commanded.
“I’m a dirty little slut,” she repeated, half whisper, half moan.
Her cries reached a peak, and she grabbed his hand again, holding it steady as he thrust once, twice, three times, then she pulled it away. He trailed his hand up her body, a small line of her sexual juices tracing a path from her pussy to her breasts, which he began to caress. She rolled him onto his back, and climbed on top of him. His erect penis was in front of her, and she slid forward so it bent down towards his stomach. She began to tease him with her dripping pussy, sliding the lips up and down his shaft until he was begging her to fuck him until he couldn’t take it anymore. She ran her hands down from his shoulders to his hips, and was delighted to see scratches marking the way. She raised herself up, positioned him with her deft hands, and slowly, tantalizingly, lowered herself onto his cock. They moaned together as the pleasure hit them, and Cassandra began to rock back and forth, fucking herself on him, using him as a toy for her own pleasure. Using one hand, she held both of his at the top of the bed while she used him as she saw fit. Damon could only stare up at this goddess, this heavenly vision, this beautiful creature as she rode him. The necklace he had given her swung between her lightly bouncing breasts, and her hair framed her face like a curtain. Cassandra leaned forward and bit him on the chest, just beneath his collar bone. He gasped sharply at the pain, and was about to tell her to stop, when the pain gave way to intense, almost inexplicable feelings of pleasure. She bit again, harder, and again the pain was almost too much for him before turning erotic and pleasing. His cock stiffened further, throbbing deep within her. She felt the slight swell, and grinned evilly at him.
“Enjoying your pain, darling?” She asked, coyly.
He could not form words to respond, but another moan rolled out of his throat, and she took that as an affirmative answer. She released his hands, and immediately he grasped her hips and began directing the tempo of their love-making. Even as she tried to continue the rocking rhythm of before, he held her down, thrusting his cock as deep into her as he could, reveling in the sensation that came when he brushed the back wall of her vagina with the very sensitive tip of his cock. She moaned to have him fill her in that manner, and began to speak, though she was having trouble forming thoughts.
“Mmh, that’s right Damon, that’s it… Show me how a real man fucks his woman, take me and make me your own! That’s it, deeper, harder; fill me up perfectly, one flesh, forever!”
They continued fucking, faster and harder, until Damon was near orgasm. Cassandra recognized the look on his face, and her own excitement rose as the beautiful expression graced his visage.
“That’s it, Damon,” she cooed. “Cum on now, cum hard, make me feel it, make me know you’re mine, make me know I’m yours!”
As she spoke, he thrust one final time, driving his cock deep inside her, holding her hips down, before exploding into her. Cassandra, who had been near climax, exploded as well, an orgasm flooding her body. She fell forward, burying her face in the pillow next to his head, leaving his cock inside her.
They lay there for around five minutes, before getting up and, regretfully, dressing. It was nearly 11pm, and they decided to leave for the university, to feed. When they arrived, they stayed together and walked to the center of campus. They reached a convergence of paths that lead to every dorm, as well as to the neighborhoods surrounding the university where most of the parties were likely to be. They sat on a bench and talked quietly, not focusing on any topic, nor on the conversation. Their senses, much more alert than any human’s, heard people approaching, though their prey was almost 500 yards away. As the group approached, they were able to smell seven different fragrances, suggesting seven people, as well as an abundance of alcohol. As their prey walked past, Damon and Cassandra saw that they had been right; seven drunken students walked by and separated to go to their own dorms. Cassandra stood up and followed a group of two, male and female, who were walking together, but seemed not to be dating. Cassandra walked quickly, and caught up to the male of the pair. She grabbed his hand, and he looked at her, and smiled. She leaned her head up, and he met her, their lips meeting. Damon walked up to the girl, and asked if she’d like him to escort her home. She agreed, and Damon was surprised to realize that he knew her; she had been in his English class the previous semester. She didn’t seem to recognize him, however; she asked his name, which he provided as Andrew. As they neared the back door of her building, she stopped, and turned to him.
“Andrew,” she asked, “am I pretty?”
“You are very pretty,” he said, truthfully.
“Than why did Brian go with that other girl?”
“I do not know. But I’m glad he did, because that leaves me with you.”
Her face lit up, and as he leaned down to her, she met his lips with mouth half open, ready. They kissed for a short time, and then he began to kiss his way down her cheek, over her jaw, and down onto her neck. She sighed, and it was so much like Anne’s sighs that he paused for a moment. She looked at him expectantly, and he went to work. He bit, his fangs puncturing her skin, and began to lap at the blood that flowed forth. The girl sighed again, and moaned lightly, as Damon continued to lick and suck the blood that spilled from her neck. When he judged he had drunk enough, he pulled away from her neck, licked his lips, and kissed her once more on the mouth. She opened her mouth, probably intending to ask him in, but the sudden lack of blood, and thus much greater percentage of alcohol in her veins, caused her to almost fall over. He helped her up the stairs, and she disappeared inside the building.
On his way back to the bench he had shared with Cassandra, he passed Brian, who, from the stumble he had adopted and the blood on his collar, had been the first course of Cassandra’s evening meal. Cassandra was sitting on the bench they had shared earlier, and he sat down and kissed her, tasting her victim’s blood on her lips, and knowing she tasted the same on his.
Several times more they went out and took prey. The drunks made it excessively easy for them, all they needed to do was come onto them, and blood was virtually guaranteed. Cassandra, who was still nearly full from the killing meal on Monday, only drank twice, but Damon took nine victims before he’d had his fill. As he walked his last to her door, Cassandra materialized out of the shadows and kissed the blood off his lips. As they embraced, a young man walked out of the dorm and gave Damon a dirty look; Damon realized the same young man had come and gone several times, and each time Damon had been kissing a different girl. He gave the man a discreet thumbs up, and the other flipped him off. Damon chuckled through the kiss, and Cassandra, who had seen the exchange, rolled her eyes.
Although the pace of the hunt had dictated the timing, and it was close to 2am, the campus was still vibrant, and Cassandra and Damon decided to play the stereo-typical nocturnal vampires. Hand in hand, they wandered across the university, pausing from time to time to speak to friends and acquaintances. They quite literally bumped into Damon’s former roommate as he rounded a corner, and spoke at length to him, and later on saw several of Cassandra’s friends, who walked with them for a while before heading for their dorms. By 3am, Cass and Damon were among the last people on campus, and began to walk towards their car. The night was fine and clear, but a strong wind was beginning to whip past the buildings, almost blowing away Damon’s hat. On a particularly strong gust, they both caught a very familiar scent: Anne’s perfume. Intrigued, they followed the smell; on the other side of the plaza in front of the languages building, they spotted her. She was pressed against the wall, her red hair trailing across it, stuck to the rough stone. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, a look of pleasure on her face. The real shock, however, was the young man kissing her neck. A very low moan, barely audible even to Damon and Cassandra’s sharp hearing, drifted across the plaza. The young man lifted his mouth from Anne’s neck, and began to kiss her mouth. She responded willingly, her hands grasping his back and holding him to her. Cassandra and Damon watched, fascinated. They could smell no fresh blood, could sense nothing amiss, and realized that this was no vampire attack; Anne was having a legitimate hookup.
Not wanting to seem creepy, they left Anne to her romance, and returned to the townhouse. They went down to Cassandra’s room, and fell into bed. Their kiss goodnight got out of hand, and they were soon making out, tongues flashing between their mouths, hands caressing and scratching. In a lustful rage, they tore each other’s clothes off, and paused a moment, each appreciating the other’s body. They kissed again, but more sedately, Cassandra marveling at the bite marks she had left all over Damon’s chest. After a short time, they both fell asleep.

The phone began ringing at 2pm the next day. Damon, who was a restless sleeper, rolled over at the noise, and woke up on the floor. He stumbled to the phone and picked it up.
“Hullo?” He asked, sleepily.
“Morning Hun!” Anne’s voice was shrill and cheerful.
“Can it, kiddo, you woke me up.”
“Aww, I’m so sorry,” Anne replied, sarcastically. “Do you wanna come get me?”
“Uh, sure. I’ll be there in about 45 minutes.”
Damon re-cradled the phone, yawning, and went upstairs. He set coffee to brew, and took a quick shower to wake himself. He got out, got dressed, and filled a large travel mug with fresh coffee. After writing a note to Cassandra explaining where he had gone, he left for the school.
About 20 minutes later he pulled up in front of Anne’s dorm. He felt energetic and alive, and his ears rang from the Slayer that had pounded out of the speakers over his short drive. He walked into the building and stood in the lobby. Anne wasn’t there, and he had forgotten his cell phone. Not wishing to walk up four flights of stairs, he looked around, ensured he was alone, and disappeared, re-appearing moments later outside Anne’s door. He smiled to find himself where he intended; when he had secretly practiced around the house, he often found himself several yards, if not floors, from where he wished to be.
He knocked on Anne’s door, and her roommate answered.
“Hey Damon! I haven’t seen you in ages! Then again, Anne hasn’t been here much lately either…” Her voice trailed away, and Damon could see her eyes shifting from his bite-strewn neck to his elongated canines, which were revealed by his nervous grin.
“Yeah,” Damon began, feeling slightly awkward, “where is Anne, anyway?”
“I think she just went downstairs. I’m surprised you missed her.”
Damon chuckled quietly, knowing exactly why he’d missed her.
“Alright, then, I’ll go lookin’. See you later.”
He could feel her eyes on the back of his head as he walked towards the stairwell, and it made him vaguely uneasy. Even after she shut the door, he felt as if he was being watched, and he was relieved to meet Anne in the lobby and walk with her out to the car.
Thunder rolled as Damon started the car, and Anne looked confusedly at the clear blue sky. The thunder rolled on, and was joined by a chorus of bass drums. Anne recognized one of Damon’s favorite songs, Slayer’s Raining Blood, and quickly secured her seatbelt. Damon swung the car around and maxed out the volume on the stereo. As the music built to a crescendo, he put the pedal to the floor and left twin tracks of rubber as they left the school.
Cassandra greeted them as they came into the kitchen from the garage. Damon replied instantly, but Cassandra needed to repeat the greeting at a higher volume for Anne, whose sensitive hearing had been assaulted all the way home. Damon poured himself another cup of coffee, and then turned to Anne.
“So, where were you last night?”
“I was sleeping in my old room,” she replied, coyly.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. Why were you sleeping in your old room?”
“You’re just mad because I woke you up!”
“Nah, that was ok, I needed a good excuse to blare some offensive music.”
“Well, then you should be thanking me!”
“You’re being awfully evasive, Anne,” Cassandra put in.
Anne whirled furiously and stared at Cassandra. Cassandra met her gaze, then relaxed her control and let the hellfire shine brightly in her eyes. Anne quickly looked away, and Damon chuckled. Anne punched him in the shoulder.
“Well?” He asked.
“Well, I decided to stay. By the time I was done with everything, it was almost 2:30, and I decided not to call you. I thought it would be too late.”
Damon and Cassandra exchanged sidelong glances; they both knew it was at least 3am when they had spotted Anne.
“We were on campus pretty late, weren’t we darling?” Cassandra directed the question at Damon, but kept her eyes on Anne.
“Yeah, let’s see… I think we were near the languages plaza on the way back to the car when my watch sounded three…” Damon let his voice trail off, also scrutinizing Anne’s face, which paled slightly.
“You two were out late… Maybe I should have called you,” she said nervously.
“No worries,” Cassandra started, her voice full of comforting sweetness. “Did you have a good night?”
“Oh, um, yes, it was fine,” Anne stammered. “I worked on a presentation for my screenwriting class, then I went out to a party at the theater frat with a few friends.”
“That’s fun,” Damon chimed in, “Did you meet anyone new?”
“Well, um, yes, I, er, I met a guy from the local community college.”
Anne became very interested in the belt-loops on her jeans, and fiddled with them intently.
“Well?” Cassandra demanded, impatiently, already knowing the story but wanting to hear it from Anne’s mouth.
“Well, I played a few games of beer-pong with him, and then he offered to walk me back to my dorm… I guess it was about three, actually,” her voice trailed away slightly, then she chuckled quietly. “Actually, at about three we were, well, we were, uh, near the languages plaza. I’m, uh, I’m surprised we didn’t, you know, see you.”
“Were you by the languages plaza, or were you preoccupied in the vicinity of the languages plaza?” Damon’s tone told Anne that he either knew or guessed the truth, so she caved in and told them.
“Well, actually, he had me up against the side of the building, and we were making out. When he went to kiss my neck, it was such a shock that he wasn’t biting that I almost laughed, which might have spoiled the moment. He was really cool, though, and didn’t ask why I’m already coated in hickeys and scabs. Or it might have just been really dark.” She started laughing as she finished her tale, and Damon and Cassandra readily joined her.
“Well?” Cassandra’s voice plainly stated that they had reached a point where she didn’t know the rest of the story, and was quite eager to learn it. “What happened then?”
“Then,” Anne started laughing, and it was several moments before she could start again, “Then his ex-girlfriend walked by, saw us, and started screaming at him. After a moment, he just looked her in the eyes, said a very pointed ‘good night’ and turned to kiss me again!” Stunned silence greeted her announcement, and Anne quickly continued. “But by then it was about 3:30, and he had to work today, so we swapped numbers, and a little more saliva, then he walked me back to the dorms.”
The three of them sat around the table, sipping warm drinks and telling stories of the night before, for another half hour or so. Anne was quite pleased to learn that both vampires had had their fill of blood, but had not killed, and was quite amused to hear about the man who had flipped Damon off outside the dorms. Cassandra was just wondering if she should tell Anne that they had seen her when Anne’s cell rang. She glanced at the screen, then jumped up, and ran from the room, calling, “It’s him!” over her shoulder as she left.
“Well,” Damon began, “it seems that she may have someone of her own.”
“Yeah. That’d be nice, someone for her to focus on, let us stay in the shadows, an occasional thing instead of all she’s got. It has to be difficult, the only sex she gets being finger or oral action from one of us, and then we go fuck,” Cassandra smiled as an excited squeal echoed down from the direction of Anne’s room.
They lapsed into silence for a time, simply sitting, not needing words, until Anne burst excitedly back into the room.
“He asked me out to dinner tonight! Oh, my god, I’ve got a dinner date tonight! He’s picking me up at seven!” She moved excitedly around the kitchen, her feet barely skimming the ground as if gravity had no hold on her in this exciting moment. Cassandra gave a half-scream of excitement, and Damon let out an excited whoop. After a moment, Cassandra and Anne went upstairs to choose her outfit for the evening, and Damon went down into the basement and grabbed his book before going to sit in the hammock and read.
At 6:30, Damon got up out of the hammock, having just finished the third of a trilogy of vampire novels. They were among Cassandra’s favorites, and she had been furious to learn that Damon had never read them. He went inside, put the books back on Cassandra’s bookshelf where he had found them, and went up to his room on the main floor. There, he tied his long hair back, imitating the look of Dracula in Van Helsing. He then put on dark jeans, his Slayer shirt, and a black trench coat. He strapped his broadsword across his back, with the handle protruding above his right shoulder. An airsoft shotgun, long since modified to look real, completed the outfit, and he went out into the living room. Cassandra was sitting in her favorite chair, leafing through a law journal. She looked up as he walked in, and gave his outfit a quizzical look but decided not to question him. As seven o’clock drew closer, he stood and began to pace the floor, constantly checking his watch and looking out at the driveway. Finally, as the hall clock chimed seven, a car pulled up, and the young man from the night before got out. He was an average height, with long brown hair that Damon was pleased to see was up in a faux-hawk. He walked up the steps and rang the bell.
“Don’t anyone fucking dare answer that!” Anne’s shout echoed down the stairs, but Damon was already pulling open the door.
The young man stared in shock at the militantly dressed, heavily armed figure that answered the door. Damon beckoned him in with his right hand, his left holding the shotgun to the same shoulder. The young man stepped nervously in, declaring that he was there to pick up Anne.
“I know why you’re here,” Damon said, his voice adopting a gravely tone he rarely employed. “And I want you to know that Anne is as dear to me as my own sisters. If you break her heart, I will see to it that you suffer. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, if you hurt her, I will make you wish you had never been born.”
As he finished his proclamation, Anne came down the stairs. She shrieked in horror to see Damon addressing her date, especially dressed as he was. She punched him squarely in the back, causing him to take an involuntary step forward. She brushed past him, and, grabbing her date by the arm, led him into the living room, saying she needed to introduce him to her roommates. Damon followed menacingly behind.
“This is Cassandra. Cass, this is Josh,” she began. “This is Cassandra’s house, actually.”
Josh shook Cassandra’s hand, obviously pleased to see someone who wasn’t threatening to kill him.
“And this,” she continued, “is Damon. Don’t let him scare you, he’s nowhere near as badass as he’d like you to believe.”
Damon dropped the scowl and amicably shook Josh’s hand.
“No hard feelings, right Josh? I’ve just wanted to do that for a really long time.”
Josh, realizing that his life wasn’t in immediate danger, grinned and shook in return. They exchanged introductory pleasantries for a few minutes, then Josh glanced at his watch and excused himself and Anne, saying that he had reservations in ten minutes. As they walked towards the car, Damon leaned out the door and called out, “I wasn’t kidding, though. Hurt her, and you have me to answer to!”
Josh involuntarily quickened his pace, and Damon, laughing, closed the door.

After Anne had left, Cassandra and Damon decided to pop in a movie. Damon obviously wanted to stay up and wait for Anne to return and Cassandra decided that leaving him to face the two alone was a bad plan. She thought that she could help diffuse an awkward situation and leave the two of them alone so Anne could have her goodnight kiss without interruption.
So they settled in, curled around each other on the couch, as the opening scene of the movie lit up the screen.
“I can’t believe you are making me watch this,” Damon complained as the first notes of “Seasons of Love” filled the room.
“Cassandra hit him lightly on the shoulder, “Shut up. You love it and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Damon. He tried to look angry but broke when Cassandra quickly kissed the end of his nose. “Stop that,” he laughed. Cassandra smiled and snuggled closer to him.

Josh and Anne walked up the sidewalk to the porch of Cassandra’s house. They were shyly holding hands and walking slowly, to spend as much time with each other as was possible.
“Well, I had a really great time,” Anne stammered. I wish he would just kiss me, she thought.
“Me too. I love spending time with you. I hope that we could do this again, maybe?” Josh looked suddenly shy and unsure of her answer.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Anne smiled. Josh leaned forward slowly and kissed her softly on the lips. All too soon, he pulled away.
“Goodnight. Sleep well, my dear,” He smiled and turned to walk back to the car.
“Goodnight,” Anne murmured. She fumbled for her key and unlocked the door, her heart soaring. She had finally met a true gentleman- a guy that she had only dreamed of. Cautiously, she edged the door open. Although they were probably otherwise occupied, Anne was not taking any chances; she wasn’t going to be ambushed by those two.
She sneaked into the family room and was surprised to see the two of them asleep on the couch. “RENT” was still playing on the television in front of them. She reached over and turned off the T.V. Cassandra, woken by the sudden silence, opened her eyes.
“Well hey sweetie. How did it go?” She whispered, being careful not to wake Damon.
“Amazing. He’s so cute, and sweet and nice and oh, perfect,” Anne smiled and danced giddily on the spot.
Cassandra smiled back, “That’s great. I’m so glad you found a good guy.” She carefully extracted herself and stood up. “I suppose I should get this guy to bed. He’s going to have to start doing some work again. He can’t skip classes forever.”
“Well, he could if he wanted. I mean, he doesn’t need a job anymore,” Anne shrugged.
“No, he does. We still have to live somewhere. I mean, we have to exist in society,” Cassandra yawned. She reached down and shook Damon awake.
“Wha-what time is it?” He blinked quickly and looked around, a little disoriented.
“It’s almost one. It’s time to head downstairs,” Cassandra stood back as Damon struggled to stand. He saw Anne and swore.
“He’s gone already? I didn’t even get to show him this,” Damon reached behind the couch and pulled out his katana, which he had recently rediscovered in the attic.
Anne groaned at the idea of Damon threatening Josh any further, and grabbed the katana out of his hands. As he tried to regain it, the blade pulled free of the sheath, leaving Anne holding the blade.
“Go away,” she said, brandishing the sword, and Damon quickly retreated downstairs, with Cassandra trailing behind, laughing.

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