Evonne sat in the floor of the shower, the rush of the water masking her utterance of hate as she cursed herself for enjoying the kill.
     She relived the hunt only minutes old. She needed to feel remorse. Another human was dead because of her. She could’ve helped this one. But it was her mind telling her otherwise that sent her fangs into the girl’s neck.
     Her fangs. Even dormant she could feel their sharp tips where her human canines use to be. Though she could fool herself into thinking she were still human, it was the presence of these two new teeth that jolted her back into reality. Her outward appearance was a facade—more like a cruel joke to the life she could no longer have. She tried many times to do as Gabriel said, to abandon the lingering remnants of her humanity. But the irritating morsel held strong. She could feel its talons refusing to yield.
     With her knees drawn up to her chest, Evonne rested her head on her arms. Every time she believed she had this figured out, the same thoughts bled forth. She lightly hit her head on the shower wall.
     “You can’t do this,” she whispered, repeating the words over and over until no sound left her lips. She dropped her head back to her arms. “You can’t do this. You’re weak, pathetic… ” An insect pretending to be a spider. “You’ll never… I can’t…” I can’t…
     Evonne lifted her eyes, focusing on nothing, and clamped her mouth on her arm. She bit down, her dull teeth pressing hard against her skin. Her fangs extended under her command and descended through the skin and muscle. She held her bite strong, her other teeth threatening to break through, as well. Evonne relaxed her mouth as she pulled away. Her eyes dropped to her arm, studying the mark left on her skin. In her mouth, her tongue passed over her teeth, landing on each fang as she dared to face the truth. It did little to sway her thoughts.
     Placing her arm under the rushing water, Evonne rinsed away the blood. She looked at the bite once more, tracing her thumb over the mark as it began to heal. The skin and muscle tingled where she once felt pain. Not even the attempt of manifesting her agony stayed long enough to receive the thrashing it deserved.
     After pulling on her clean clothes, Evonne gathered the damp ones from the floor, as well as her towel, and left the room. She had the remainder of this night and all day tomorrow to remain locked away in the attic, the perfect excuse to keep herself busy and away from Demetrius. She didn’t care how much Gabriel expressed his trust for this vampire. She saw nothing within him to blindly share that same conviction. In fact, this night had proven her skepticism. Taking her deep within the werewolves’ territory, killing humans they had no right to, and even leading the wolves right to Gabriel’s doorstep, all huge red signs pointing to her distrust. And judging by his secret goal for the night, this was far from over.
     Evonne entered her darkened room and stopped upon seeing Demetrius sitting on the foot of the bed. She wanted to fly into a rage, to order him from her room, but her body refused to react.
     “I haven’t finished speaking with you,” he said.
     “There’s nothing else to say.”
     “Not necessarily. I heard you in the shower.”
     “What? You’re spying on me now?” Her hands gripped the damp clothes as she redirected her increasing anger.
     “I took no extra effort to hear you.”
     Evonne remained steadfast. “Get out of my room.”
     As he stood from her bed she saw that he had changed his clothes. And perhaps that was when he happened by the bathroom, easily picking up on her momentary lapse of inner strength—a fake strength she once carried while human. Pretend you’re tough and one day you may actually believe it. On this side of the coin, the idea carried little weight.
     Demetrius walked past her and closed the door. He then turned to face her and removed the damp clothing from her hands, dropping them to the floor.
     “Bravery can be measured in many different levels, even by the acts they are born from,” he said. He forced her to look at him. “Your bravery for tonight wasn’t the act of killing the human or the wolves you outran, but from the offer I now present to you.” He took her hand and led her to the bed, guiding her to sit.
     Evonne didn’t stop him. As with the incident in the attic, she wasn’t sure how he would react if she tried to throw him from the room.
     He stood before her and continued speaking. “The blood bond with the wolf was barely strong enough to warrant the title. The offer I present to you tonight is a true bond.”
     Evonne refused to entertain the idea. “No. I’m not doing that again.”
     “Your real answer should be ‘Why?’ Why? Because you need to see both sides. It will quicken and solidify your death.”
     No! Evonne tried to leave the bed but Demetrius stopped her, his hand holding onto her upper arm.
     “This is an offer,” he reminded her. “Don’t turn it into an order.”
     “Gabriel—”
     “Isn’t here.” He tilted his head, catching a hint of something more. “What are you really afraid of? You know the effects aren’t permanent.”
     She looked away. “It doesn’t seem right.”
     Demetrius saw the truth. “You don’t want it to end. You want that last grain of humanity to remain alive and screaming, to bathe you in guilt each time you kill. You see it as a form of punishment, a way to ratify your actions. This anguish shouldn’t be the cost of your survival. You are a predator. You kill. That is your nature. I hate self-loathing vampires. They are a mockery to my very existence. But you, Evonne, are sitting on the edge of this crater. Under Gabriel’s passive teachings it will take you years to finally break free. But under mine, I will strip the humanity from you before he returns.”
     Evonne dared to look upon him. As her eyes met his, he moved forward. She leaned away, using her arms to pull herself further onto the bed. Demetrius followed, crawling overtop of her as she fought to escape. His hand went under her jaw and forced her head to the side. She had no time to fight against him or break free. His teeth, already at her skin, buried into her neck, the bite large enough to prevent the skin from closing too quickly. As she felt his mouth pulling the blood from her, a new pain filled her body. She resisted him. Her mind screamed for him to leave her. But has he refused, her body gave in.
     The pain stopped.
     A strange euphoria enveloped Evonne, a reflection of the night she was turned. The amount of blood he took was much more than what Adrian drank. But the lack of blood in her system didn’t mean death. She could feel the borrowed heat from his body calling out to her, causing her gums to ache and her teeth to lengthen.
     As Demetrius left her, Evonne’s instincts took command as she latched onto his neck, her teeth slicing through his flesh in one quick movement. His blood pooled into her mouth without much effort, forcing her to drink fast. She felt Demetrius’ hands slide under her, holding her close as he rolled over, her body now on top. His hands then moved under her shirt, his fingers digging deep as he pressed her body closer to his.
     Blindly, Evonne grabbed Demetrius’ hands and forced them above his head, his fingers now intertwined with hers. She kept him pinned as she attempted to keep any of his other intentions from surfacing. Her hands tightened. She drank faster.
     Demetrius’ mind unfolded before her, its presence a perfect blend of serenity and knowledge. Like with Adrian she heard no words, only images of an understanding outside all simple or complex explanation. This was a unity unlike any she had known. His thoughts, where Adrian’s bounced around with hers in a jumbled mess, moved through Evonne like a river. Nothing was hidden from her. The difference between Demetrius and Adrian were now apparent. Before, with Adrian, they were mere children acting in a school play. But this with Demetrius…
     Flashes of more images poured into her head. She could see the woman—the dhampir—Laurel, nestled within him, and even the way he feels while in her presence; the fear and the love. She could see how vulnerable he is with her and how it is she he will only crumbled before.
     Evonne felt her mouth no longer at his neck but on his lips, kissing him the way Laurel had kissed him. Shocked, she withdrew from him and left the bed, using the wall to keep herself standing. In the wake of his blood she could hear and see more than she ever thought possible.
     Demetrius sat up and watched her with curious eyes.
     “Still frightened?” he asked.
     As he talked, Evonne saw his mind open like a floodgate.
     He continued speaking. “The reason the bond between you and the wolf soured is evident. You were both amateurs.”
     Evonne saw beyond his words and glimpsed those from his past. Demetrius wasn’t some vampire who hated werewolves. He carried great respect for them, even loving a few in his long life.
     “Who are they?” she found herself asking, still reeling from their exchange and the nuance of it all.
     “No one important,” he said.
     Evonne saw the unneeded lie and the pain it caused him to even admit such a thing. “That’s not right,” she whispered.
     “Lies sting, don’t they?” he said, his words carrying their own bite. “There are two sides to a blood bond; a dominate and a submissive. But this isn’t always the case. There are ways to experience the bond with no dominate or submissive mind. This, however, requires complete trust, something we don’t have, yet.”
     His talk ushered in more of his underlying thoughts.
     “I can see everything,” she muttered. Her eyes searched for something to focus on. She finally looked at him. “… and how you see me.” And how you should see me.
     Leaving the bed, Demetrius took her hand, a calming gesture as his mouth returned to her neck, his teeth once again at her skin. She didn’t fight him this time. As strong as she believed the bond was between them, it was considered weak in his eyes. Evonne used the wall behind her to keep herself standing. He stripped away her blood, going further than he previously had. Her body then begged for his blood as she found herself at his neck even before he left her.
     Evonne drank slowly. She could see the link widening between them until its barriers were no longer visible. The images became clearer—images he refused to hide. She saw Gabriel and the first time he met Demetrius, and even the house in which Gabriel waited to receive his punishment. The bodies of the two women, the mother and daughter, torn beyond recognition. The anger for this brazen act was justified, but the truth behind it was eventually seen. As Gabriel’s sire abandoned him, Evonne felt raw compassion within Demetrius to save this poor soul.
     She pulled away, the sharp images dulling a little.
     “Do you wish to return to the attic or stay here?” she heard Demetrius ask.
     Evonne was still lost within his mind, the landscape between them much different than when she was with Adrian. The wildfire set in motion by his blood was reckless in comparison to what she now saw. Everything was peaceful, serene, and flawless. Nothing threatened her. Nothing frightened her. A tinge of remorse bubbled within her for not trusting him from the beginning. How could I have known?
     She lifted her head and answered, “Here.”
     Demetrius took her hand once more and lead her to the bed. Evonne settled down beside him, both laying in a sea of absolute understanding. She wished to see things like him, to view world with unbiased eyes. She saw no conflict within him. In this moment, he was as perfect as any earthly creature could be. But he had his flaws.
     Out of all of his children, six of which were born from his blood, only Gabriel stood out as his favorite. But there was another, a child unknown to Gabriel. Demetrius made no attempt to shelter this one stray thought from her. Evonne saw the familiar name.
     “You never told him?” she asked, her eyes closed.
     “I was asked not to.”
     Evonne could feel the pain caused by this one promise. “Gabriel blames himself for his death.”
     “I kept my word,” Demetrius pointed out. “Please, he must remain dead in his eyes.”
     The plea came with a rush of sadness. The contradiction stung worse than any lie.
     “You speak of truth, yet you’ve deceived him all this time,” she pointed out.
     His voice grew distant. “You know why I had to.”
     Evonne obeyed his silent wish to no longer speak about him. But she could see through his words and at the promise he was forced to make, and the day he longed for when he would return.