I give my head a brazen shake and demand I get myself together.

I peer over at the Reaper to find the spot unoccupied. I'm on my feet in an instant, instinctively relocating Ashlen.

I find the indented oval of foliage, right where I left her and seemingly untouched. But that Reaper is creeping her way. She holds out a dark dripping slab.

I stand tall, peering over the weeds. What is that Reaper up to now? She draws her bloody fist to Ashlen's face, nearing her lips. A vampire's heart!

I practically spring over, slapping the Reaper's hand away. The dirt stirs in a dust devil as she ducks down on all fours, hissing through disproportionately large fangs. Her shoulders hunch, retreating like a threatened lynx. Those eldritch eyes scrutinize me in a hideously wrong face. It's like worms are writhing beneath the flesh, squirming inside thin plastic.

I growl down, towering over and coercing her further back. I feel my hackles rise. I sense her volatility in my gut, that there's something uncomfortably amiss. She's sick, a liability. I have this natural urge to put her down right here, but Ashlen's psyche seems tied to the damn monster.

Things can never be easy.

I possessively gather up Ash in my arms, ignoring the ache in my ribs and limbs. Her touch tames my wild nature threatening to come back for seconds.

"No," it's mostly a word rather than a growl, "You won't implicate her further. You've caused enough damage."

I pull her close while eyeing the burdensome thing. Although, I'm loath to admit, the Reaper's prior interference was useful.

Those alien eyes are fixed on mine. The strain in her crinkled plastic features eases and smooths out. I'm disturbed how her appearance has altered in such a short time. There are strings of flesh stretched like chewing gum working to cover her back teeth. Her coloring is less of an angry red, taming to gummy pink. The caverns in her skull are filling in, I can make out the beginning of new lips and a nose.

How is this possible? I've never seen a vampire heal a severe damage so rapidly, especially without human blood. *What* is she?

"Implicate…?" she echoes in question. I swear I detect a hint of mockery or perhaps amus.e.m.e.nt.

"That's right. It's not surprising the Thorn want to wipe you out. You've proven to be a menace."

Her head c.o.c.ks slightly, a genuine reaction of confusion. Her memory has definitely been tampered, but I have no time nor d.e.s.i.r.e to fill in those blanks. She's the same monster as before.

"It's irrelevant at this point," I mutter, already brainstorming through our viable options.

Juniper makes a disturbed animal w.h.i.n.e. I tense, putting my full attention back on her.

She cowers before the sky, paper lids peeled back. Those unseeing eyes are glued in the back lit silhouette of the eastern cliffs. Her teeth are locked and barred as ragged breaths rattle around the jagged spaces. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was having a panic attack.

I watch warily as the hysteria gradually dissipates and she comes back to her surroundings. We don't have time for this erratic behavior. I need her to get out of here so I can focus on getting Ash and I to shelter.

Juniper straightens, blinking the clouded look away. She stares down at herself, hands clenching and unclenching, then studies us with a furrowed brow as if she's never seen either of us before.

"Death… is on the rise," her gaze falls onto Ashlen's gaunt face once more, struggling to compose a sentence. Her surprise is apparent, it's as if each word is a revelation out of a stranger's mouth, "My kindred… She may be too weak to withstand it."

"Yeah, I can see that," I snap, impatient, "Do you have anything of value to contribute or are you going to state the obvious?"

She reaches for Ash. I shield her, tightening my grip and snarling without thought.

'Touch her and I'll tear you apart.' The inopportune promise passes over the primitive part of my consciousness like a separate entity. I don't trust the reaper but this blatant show of aggression is shocking.

Ash senses the tension and rubs her useless fingers against my arm in an attempt to calm. Surprisingly, it is calming. Those eyes that are usually bright with intelligence are glazed as they open and drift upward, managing steady contact with Juniper.

Her maker halts in place and visibly softens as Ashlen somehow establishes a temporary peace between us.

The Reaper meets my waning hostility with a guarded collectedness. Her sclears are bloodshot with advanced hemorrhaging rather than that former rift of demon blackness. A minor improvement.

"Feed her," she frankly asserts.

"Brilliant, problem solved," I sardonically blurt out, "Let me go fetch a closest donor. No more than, hmm, oh, I don't know, a whopping 30 miles from here."

Her expression doesn't change, only her eyes move down my neck with a sparkle of remembrance, "Spare her some of yours."

I'm stricken into silence.

"You are flush with pillaged warmth. It should sustain her for the time being. Share it."

I curl my lip at her then turn back to Ashlen, cradling her face in my palm. I've never given someone my blood. I don't know if I can bring myself to do it.

I can't deny the reaper's instincts. Naturally, the idea crossed my mind, but I didn't want to give it honest consideration. Ashlen's in horrible shape, I could be her best option. After all, how can I expect her to ride barely conscious?

"Of course, there is the lesser," she points down to that revolting mound of heart now coated in dirt.

"No," I bark out. As far as I know, Ashlen hasn't done anything to warrant Thorn wrath, keeping her nose clean is a point of leverage. There's always someone higher on the Thorn totem pole. And besides the fact that cannibalizing is forbidden, I've heard it changes a vampire. Often for the worse.

"Notwithstanding your hesitation, you plainly hold the… *petite* one dear," she interrupts my thoughts, picking up our argument where it was left. I notice the assuredness solidifying in her words.

Her eyes narrow with a flash of revelation. A repulsive smirk crosses that partially developed mouth.

"You are dismayed by the notion of intimate sacrifice."

"You're right, 'death' is on the rise," I reply coldly, "So, unless you can actually be useful instead of offering your priceless pearls of wisdom, I suggest you get a head start."

'Leave, before I'm inclined to act on a bad impulse,' I add in silently.

She chuckles and that flicker of the old reaper only increases my irritation.

"I am beholden to you."

I stare at her blankly and repress a rude comment referring to the worth of her gratitude.

"Natheless, I am aware," she smirks again with that uncanny mouth and her gaze rolls to Ash, "that your succor was not for my benefit."

The temptation to strike her down is immeasurable, the element of surprise may be lost here otherwise. The reaper is sharp and regaining her sense of self at a remarkable pace.

'I'll outwit her,' I reason with myself, 'I can wait.'

There's a wordless exchange between Ashlen and her maker. I can see the depth but decipher no meaning. She then peers at the sky and wisely departs before I give into the foolish compulsion to tear her heart out on the spot.

I suppose there are things more important than a timely revenge.

Ashlen's eyes are unfocused. She mouths meaningless murmurings. Her ailing grip fails to take hold of my shirt.

I curl her into me and vow internally to get her out of this, "Just hang on for me."

I cross the overgrown dirt road, carrying her to the large boulder where I hid our getaway. The darkness is peeling away in shades, the sky flares warning of brighter yellows and blues. These clouds are too wispy to provide any protection. We are undoubtedly going to get burned, this sucks.

"Ash, can you sit?"

Her eyes flutter as she musters a dizzied nod.

"You can lean against me, all you have to do is hold on."

I straddle her on the seat. She wobbles with my hands supporting her shoulders. She doesn't last a full second, turning to jelly and sliding off. I catch her as she dips, laying her in the patch of Aster wildflowers below.

This isn't going to work. I can't risk her falling off while we're on the road. If I had rope I could strap her to me, if I had an extra twenty minutes perhaps I could find a rope-like substitute.

'Feed her.'

I swear under my breath, that damn woman is right. I fed beforehand, it could be a temporary fix.

I stare into her face, beautiful but disturbingly feeble and I'm afraid. There are things I don't want her to know about me and there's a possibility my blood will tell her. I don't know what secrets will be given away.

I don't know what to expect at all.

I haven't felt fear like this, that she'll see into my soul or lack of one. See me for what I truly am and the awful things I've done. A monster.

I close my eyes, sealing my resolve. At this moment, it doesn't matter. Her life is more important than any of that, even if she's repulsed by me after.

I yank back my sleeve and bite into my wrist before I can convince myself there's another way. I would need time to work out an alternative, and we're all out of that. I barely feel my fangs pierce through the vein.

I place my wrist to her mouth. Crimson drops smear her chapped lips. She's not responding to it.

I ball my fist trying to stimulate a flow.

"Drink it, Ash," I beseech, stroking her cheek to rouse her. Those groggy eyes flicker once. Her lips brush weakly against my wrist but it's not enough.

"Please, we don't have a lot of time," I urge, running my free hand through her hair, propping her head forward.

"Come on…"

Damn it! She's too out of it and my lack of a pulse is failing to awaken her.

My eyes flick to the sky again, as if it's on countdown. 'Think, Sam. *Do* something.'

I bring my wrist to my mouth again, biting in and s.u.c.k.i.n.g.

I fill my mouth with the taste of my own blood. I never dreamed I'd do this in a thousand years…

I take her into the crook of my arm, cradling her head and tilting it back. Her mouth parts slightly, eyelashes looking too wide and thick against the gaunt cheeks. I lower my mouth to hers and let it flow freely. Feed her.

I repeat the action, taking from my wrist then pressing my mouth to hers. I hold her tight as I give her more, a drizzle of red escapes from the corner of her mouth, rolling down the snow white skin and dripping on the small purple flowers around her.

'Swallow it,' I implore in my mind.

She swallows.

I lift from her and meet her wolfish yellow eyes. She blinks at me in a daze.

Once again I feed her. Curling her closer, feeling this unique closeness as her lips press into mine. The touch of her sparks something in me. A possessiveness, an urge to protect her, to do anything for her.

...to die for her.

She's becoming more cognizant and starts to squirm. She attempts a sickly struggle, palming my c.h.e.s.t as they push and feel about confusedly. I don't let her go until she swallows it.

A fourth time I lower myself to her. Now she's driven by instinct and is aggressive for it. A hand wraps around the back of my head, fingers lace through my hair and pull me into her mouth. Her fangs scrap against my bottom lip as she nips at it.

I sense her regaining vitality. That inner need for survival is moving her. She latches on, curling a leg around my hip. Her free arm loops under mine as nails sink into my back.

I'm still anxious about what my blood will do to her but also absorbed in giving it. And I have the strangest inclination to have some of hers in return. I want to bite her, *mark* her. I bring her closer.

It's like a tie between us knotting, locking us together. She's a part of me. I need to solidify it, take her blood, hold her… keep her. *Mine.*

I can't be in this mindset. I untangle from Ashlen and offer my open wrist instead.

She fights me as I pull away. Her hands reach out in a frenzy. Those dainty fingers snap over my arm as they connect. She doesn't waste time, tugging my palm to a fanged and hungry mouth.

She bites in fast like a striking diamondback. I'm startled by the speed but also by the lack of pain. She drinks in large frantic gulps as if starved for it. It doesn't take long for a burning ache to start in my wrist, not from her fangs but from the rate of which she's taking. Her grip is exceptionally fierce, possibly bruising.

"Easy, slow down a little," I start to see spots. I'm becoming disoriented, she's definitely taking too much too quickly and that fight did a number on me.

Although she's aggressive, having her draw from me isn't all bad, rather it feels right. Like I'm meant to give it to her, I want her to have it.

"Okay, I need you to stop," I breathe after a minute or two, enduring my limit. I try to take my arm back. She growls, yanking it down.

"Ash, enough!" I pin her shoulder with the free hand, untwisting out of her sticky hold.

I steady myself as she stares with big feverish eyes, l.i.c.k.i.n.g her lips. She's looking less frail, well enough to last a drive out of here, at least.

I exhale and c.a.r.e.s.s her face, a little apprehensive for the answer as I ask, "How do you feel?"

She hesitates then softly confesses, "Hungry."

"Yeah," I snort out, relieved

"Come on," I stand up with new determination, lifting her out of the flowers, "We've got a sunrise to beat."

Something dawns on me as I stand with her in my arms. My feelings for her are stronger. They were always strong, now it's physically undeniable.

I help her on the bike, letting her lean into me as I start it up. Her arms cross around my abdomen. I can feel her smile against my shoulder blade as she whispers, "You found me. You came for me."

I place my hand over hers and gently squeeze.

"I will always come for you."

And I reflect on the impact of Ashlen Kane. I was drifting in a chasm of selfishness and regret until she reminded me of what once was. The unexpected proof that we have a capacity for good when I was nearly consumed with doubt, ready to give in.

I aspire to be more than what nature intends. Because of her, I can hope again.

We are getting out of this alive.

'I'll keep you safe, Ashlen. No matter what.'