Amelia Atwater-Rhodes: Demon in My View

Aubrey drew his knife—the same one he had used to shed Ather's blood years ago, when he had been changed. He slid the blade across his skin at the base of his throat, and he pulled Jessica toward him to drink.

She had known this moment in the lives of each of her vampiric characters; had described it in words and tasted it in dreams. But never had she fully understood it.

As she drank, she closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the sweet taste and the feeling that came with it. The English language had no way to properly express this rolling power that filled her like blue lightning, slipping into every molecule of her body and changing everything it touched.

Jessica tried to cling to the sensation, but a gentle numbness began to ease across her skin and into her mind, like the first tendrils of sleep. She was only vaguely aware of the fact that her heart had slowed and stopped, and only distantly did she realize that she was no longer breathing. The inevitable blackness of death stole over her, and she succumbed to it willingly, trusting that she would wake shortly.

Jazlyn was in constant pain for the first few days, but even that pain served as a welcome reminder that she was alive.

The first thing she did was go to the church, inside which she had not dared set foot since the day she had been changed. The priest blessed her and listened to her confession, which she abridged for the sake of his sanity.

She thought she had been given another chance — a chance to leave behind the life of darkness and evil. When the child came — Carl's child, whom she should have had years before — she thought it was a sign that she'd been forgiven.

Instead, the child was a reminder of her past. Jessica was flawless, brilliant… and shadowed by the night. She looked nothing like Carl or Jazlyn; instead, she had Siete's fair skin, black hair, and emerald eyed.

Those eyes could look upon someone and see the darkest parts of their soul.

Jessica had spent more than twenty years in Jazlyn's womb, kept alive only by Siete's blood. She was more his child than Jazlyn's.

There was no way for Jazlyn to raise the child who brought back her every painful memory. No child deserved to have a mother who could not brush her raven hair, or look into her gemstone eyes, without shuddering.

Jazlyn put the child up for adoption, so that she could be given to caring parents who knew only of sunlight and laughter. Jessica deserved that life; she had done nothing wrong.

Jazlyn prayed that her child would never be touched by the darkness of her past.

Jessica's heart had stopped. Her face was almost white, and as cool as the fall air surrounding her. She had died only moments before, as Aubrey's blood had entered her system. He left her side reluctantly to check on Caryn.

Caryn's breathing was slow and deep, and she seemed to be fine except for the cataleptic sleep she was in. At the moment Aubrey's hunger was more of a danger to the witch than anything else.

Almost without thinking, he brought both girls and himself to his seldom-used house in New Mayhem, where no one would bother them. The forest had far too many predators in it to leave them alone there, and he didn't know what Caryn would want him to tell her mother.

He put Caryn in the one bedroom with windows, knowing that no witch would want to wake and not be able to see either the stars or the sun. But he left Jessica in a bedroom with heavy blackout curtains that would block the sun while she slept.

Then, before the mingled scents of Jessica's and Caryn's blood could defeat his usually iron self-control, he went searching for dinner. Having fed well, he returned home to watch over the girls, and finally allowed his mind to turn to other things.

Like how many ways he could fillet Fala, for one. Or how many ways he would fillet Fala, for two.

An hour before sunset, Aubrey dragged himself away from Jessica's side. Fala needed to be dealt with before Jessica woke.

He appeared just behind Fala in her room, his knife at her throat and his mind clamped on hers to hold her in place.

"I hope she sliced you open very well," he snarled, pressing the edge of the blade into her throat just slightly.

"And I hope she's very, very dead," Fala answered in kind, softly so as to not put any more pressure against the blade. Despite her caution, a thin line of blood appeared on her dark Egyptian skin. "If she isn't, I'll correct that error soon."

"I suggest you don't," he said. Considering how the last fight had gone, Jessica might win if Fala chose to pick another.

"She drew blood, Aubrey," Fala answered. "I have claim, and you can't stop me from acting on it."

What he had done for Jessica would have been illegal had Fala conquered her pride earlier and admitted that Jessica had been the one who wounded her. Instead, she had waited until now to actually call on blood claim, and now was too late.

"The law only applies if she's human," he answered coldly.

Then his attention was drawn away as he sensed a familiar presence just outside the door.

Jessica had washed the blood off her skin, but her pallor showed that she still needed to feed.

"Don't stop her," Jessica said. Aubrey released Fala but didn't move away; Jessica was certainly not strong enough to best Fala in a fight now, before she had even fed. Yet she walked calmly toward Fala, looking at the vampire with scorn. "Wounded by a human…what a blow that must have been to your pride."

Fala growled, but she restrained herself from attacking with Aubrey so near.

"I have no desire to fight you," Jessica said simply, almost regally.

Fala's eyes narrowed in response, but she made no immediate comment. Aubrey knew that Fala could tell as well as he could how strong Jessica would be once she had fed.

"However," Jessica continued, just as controlled, "if you ever harm anyone I care about, or come anywhere near me, you will very quickly learn just how many interesting stories about your past I still have to share."

She didn't wait for Fala to react. Instead, she disappeared, presumably to feed.

JESSICA RETURNED SHORTLY to Aubrey's home in New Mayhem, her fair skin flushed with the blood meal she had taken in a sleazy corner of New York City only minutes before.

Aubrey was lounging on one of the couches in the living room when she entered. He stood and approached her. "Caryn went home, but she left this for you," he said, handing her a letter.

Jessica scanned Caryn's letter—a long, rambling, maudlin farewell. She made a point to hide her own emotions as she silently said her goodbyes to the person who had probably been her last tie to the mortal world.

"And," Aubrey added reluctantly, glancing toward the table, where Jessica's computer now sat, "she had me bring that here."

Jessica smiled wickedly. How harmless the contraption appeared—plain black plastic without a single scratch or mark to show how much tumult it had helped her cause. She wandered to the table and brushed the laptop's case affectionately.

Aubrey had followed her. "Do you really need that?" he asked.

"I can't write without it," she answered, assuming the closest she could manage to an innocent expression before the underlying mischief showed through.

"You live to make trouble, don't you? "

"Life is nothing without a little chaos to make it interesting." She turned to face him and playfully raised her gaze to meet his, challenging. "What do you want to do about it?"