1. Thirst

S weet...so sweet . What...was sweet? Harlow stared blankly, but saw nothing... Saw nothing? Am...I asleep? But...he was eating something... No, not eating, drinking.

Mine! a voice in his head hissed.

No, not a voice...his own voice... Having voices inside his head that weren't his own would be...a bad development.

Harlow frowned, his brow pinching when he realized his mouth was pressed to something.

What the fuck was he drinking? Odd...it didn't feel like most of it was even going down his throat...yet he could taste it so clearly.

Whatever it was...was warm...coppery, sweet... So sweet...just like...taffy.

MINE, his mind roared loudly.

Wait...taffy?!

Harlow gasped as his vision slammed into place. At the same time, he reared back in panic, fangs he shouldn't have tore from the neck of the person he'd been feeding on.

"Foxx!" he croaked, his throat sore.

Hands clenched where they were gripping the man's upper arms, he held the vampire up while he sagged in his hold. Hauling Foxx against him, Harlow cupped his face with one hand. "Foxx..." he trailed off.

Slowly pulling his hand away, he stared at the bloody hand print he'd left behind...

Gaze flicking down, he found that wherever he was touching Foxx, he was transferring blood. As if thinking about it was enough, the feeling on his skin came then. The sticky warmness of it all, everywhere. It was everywhere. Harlow was coated...

Blood...so much blood. Biting... He'd been biting Foxx... Why...had he been…?

Harlow flinched, shouting as his head throbbed sharply.

" I should have done this a long time ago." The words echoed in his mind, memories violently shoving their way forward.

" I should have done this a long time ago," Micah sneered above him.

Harlow smirked. "How's the leg?"

A hand roughly gripped his hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. His smirk only widened.

"Why are you smiling?! Don't you get what I'm about to do?!" Micah snapped.

"Why? Are you waiting for me to beg and cower?" Harlow chuckled.

Micah? He barely had the thought before very different visions pushed it aside.

Threat... Surrounded by threats...

"No! NO!!!" a man screamed.

He shook his head as shrieks, screams, and crying filled his mind... Men, women... The feeling of his hands piercing through flesh. Claws...claws shredding...blood spraying over him. Faces stretched in terror, blood vessels in eyes bursting as the life was squeezed out... Hands that were his own tearing through people like they were just paper.

Harlow shook his head again as the violent images continued to flicker through in a jumbled, confused mess.

Sweat dripping down his face, body swaying where he stood, he took deep breaths, trying to push it all away. But even as the violent images faded and stopped, the smell, the feeling, it remained. Harlow felt wet...gritty...and the inside of his nose was burning under the onslaught of blood. He wasn't even sure how he managed to smell Foxx under it all.

And fuck, it was loud... Breathing, his own and others… Odd pulsing, thumping noises, creakings, things scurrying around, bugs outside...animals... Everything was just so fucking loud.

Swallowing hard, he took another deep but shuddered breath. Micah...had changed him...

What the fuck was that other shit though?! No... It didn't matter. Foxx... Foxx was what mattered. He forced himself to focus on the vampire again.

Foxx looked worryingly pale...as pale as he had been when he'd found him pierced through with a spike. The bloody handprint left behind stood out starkly against his skin, as did the freckles on his face. The man's eyes were closed, and his button nose to his pale plush lips were slack and unmoving.

The green overalls Foxx was wearing had odd bloodstains, as if he had pulled something onto his lap, and the yellow sweater that had illustrated suns on it, now sported two bright bloody handprints from him holding him.

More worrying... Harlow grimaced as he eyed the bloody mess of a wound he'd left behind. A trail of blood had formed from it to the neckline of his sweater. Was it...still bleeding?

What...should he do? Wait...he was a...vampire now... Saliva! His saliva would now be a slight coagulant! Maybe... Was that just a myth? Harlow winced, closing one eye as the throbbing in his head ramped up.

Fuck it! He leaned down and licked at the bite mark, his heart skipping a beat before racing at full speed on realizing just how tempting he found Foxx's blood. Harlow had to force himself to back away once he'd licked off all that was there.

On his first look at the now clean wound, his head tilted while he continued to stare, his brow pinching as he eyed the edges of the bite. They were torn due to him yanking away...but the imprint of his teeth was clear enough... Clear and...wrong.... "What...?"

Harlow ran his tongue over his teeth, frowning on finding four fangs instead of just two. What the fuck? Was he...a mutant?

His gaze flicked to Foxx's face when the vampire let out a groan. The man's head lolled back, and Foxx's eyes fluttered open. Looking dazed, the vampire stared up at Harlow.

"Foxx?" he rasped. "Hey, Foxx, are you okay? I don't know...why I..." he trailed off.

Why...had he bit Foxx? Foxx was a vampire...why would he be biting him? Why hadn't Foxx pushed him away... Did it matter? Fucking hell, he needed to help the vampire first, then he could figure out whatever the rest was about later.

"H..." Foxx mumbled incoherently when he scooped him up into one arm. Harlow was almost shocked at how light the man felt. Was his...new strength kicking in already?

"I'm sorry, Foxx. I don't know why I bit you, but...let's see if we can find you...some...blood! Yes...there has to be some around here somewhere..."

Micah was staying here… At least it seemed like he was based on the flashes of the house he'd seen. And the...terrified people he'd possibly torn apart.

Harlow looked around. He was in some sort of outdoor courtyard. Tiles covered the ground, benches were situated around the edges, and it felt like there should have been a fountain in the center, but there wasn't.

The area wasn't that big, and it appeared to be in the center of the house rather than along the exterior, with a door to the left and right of him. A bloody trail leading off from the shattered glass door to his left...came right too—big surprise—him. What was a slight surprise was the still breathing vampire splayed out on the ground where he thought a fountain should be.

He eyed Micah with disgust and shuddered on realizing the man's mouth had been on his neck at one point. Harlow resisted the urge to rub at the no doubt still open fucking wound, that now he was thinking on it, was starting to sting.

"Hide..."

He glanced back down at the fear-filled word, frowning at finding Foxx's eyes closed. Why had he even been trying to talk to a severely blood depleted vampire? Blood! He had to find blood for Foxx... Where…?

"The kitchen!" Fucking duh , he thought with disgust. His brain was seriously feeling fried, and just in sensory fucking overload. Even his vision now felt too sharp...too clear.

Shaking his head, he took a step forward and froze. Nothing…he felt nothing. No itch at the back of his throat. His tongue wasn't sticking to his teeth or the roof of his mouth with each movement. And for once...his muscles didn't feel moments away from seizing up and cramping…

Harlow let out a shaky laugh. "It's...gone… The thirst... It's gone."

"Sorry," Foxx whimpered. "Sorry… Sh-should have known…"

"Shh, Foxx, it's fine," Harlow murmured, not sure what the vampire was even talking about. Either way, he needed to get his shit together. Fucking hell, they hadn't even had their first date and he had already attacked his boyfriend.

Harlow headed inside, wincing at the sound of glass crunching under his feet as it seemed to slice through his brain. How the fuck did paranormals handle this constant noise?

He wandered down a hall, away from the thicker bloody trail, as he didn't remember seeing a kitchen in between the murder spree. There was still blood this way, or rather a drag mark and handprints.

Turning the corner, he found the who in the equation. Well, half of the who. Stepping around the entrails the man had left behind, he went to lightly nudge the torso out of his way...and sent it fucking flying. Harlow grimaced when it landed with a squish and a loud thud as it hit the wall at the other end of the hall, the body falling into a heap on the floor. There was now a nice gory dent in the wall.

Okay...so his strength was kicking in. Shaking his head, he kept going, eyeing the hallway mirror as he passed. Face and T-shirt coated...he was as bloody as he felt. Where the fuck were his weapons and leather jacket? Well...at least...he could confirm those flickers of memory were probably fucking real.

Harlow found the kitchen a few doors down. No blood at all, besides the footprints he made by walking in. It was empty, no people or bodies. But then...he was pretty sure...that the three continuous pulsing noises he was hearing...were heartbeats—his, Foxx's, and Micah's.

Setting Foxx up on a chair, he paused for a brief second to make sure the vampire didn't slip off before going right to the fridge.

"Fuck, yes!" he growled on finding it filled with stacks and stacks of bagged blood.

Grabbing an arm full, he moved to Foxx's side, dropping them all onto the table. Harlow snagged one, and as if he was holding a fucking feather, he gently gripped Foxx's face. Opening his mouth, he tried to slap the bag onto his fangs.

Key word being tried, because as Harlow slapped the bag up, it burst. Blood spraying in his eyes, Harlow slammed them shut, shouting, "FUCK!"

Wiping at his eyes with one hand, he heard Foxx sputter and cough. Ignoring the vampire, Harlow blindly made his way over to the sink he'd spotted on entering, by trailing his hand over the top of the table as he went around it.

Reaching out on making it to the other side, he moved too quickly, his hand cracking against… Well, based on the sound of water running now...what likely had been the lift up handle on the sink. A handle that had probably broken off, and if the sound of glass breaking was any indication...had flown into and through the window.

But he didn't really give a fuck, because he'd accomplished what he meant to, which was to start the water.

Blindly reaching, at the feeling of water hitting his sensitive skin, he leaned down and started splashing it on his face, rubbing at his eyes. After a few moments, Harlow cracked them open and splashed more water, before grabbing the towel folded nicely on the counter and wiping off. His eyes didn't feel great, to say the least, but he could see now.

On rinsing out the small hand towel, he returned to Foxx, who apparently had passed out again. Harlow cleaned the man up as best he could, before tossing the towel aside onto the table.

Taking a deep breath, Harlow grabbed another bag, opened Foxx's mouth again and slowly brought the bag upward, pressing it onto the vampire's fangs. He sighed at the sound of the man's fangs popping into the bag.

When the bag was barely one fourth depleted, Foxx jerked back awake. And as if it were poison, the man tore that sucker off.

"FOXX!" Harlow cursed as blood once again sprayed everywhere. Growling, he grabbed the towel and wiped at his face before dabbing at Foxx's. At least it had missed his eyes this time.

"Harlow...Harlow... You have..." Foxx swallowed hard, before continuing to babble. "Have to...to listen... You have to..." The man weakly tried to push his hands away when he attempted to attach another bag.

"Foxx, stop!"

"No!" the vampire cried, tears forming in his eyes.

He grimaced and dropped his hands away. "Foxx, what is it? Tell me."

"You… You have... That pedo! Yes...still alive. Tie him up, put...boot!"

"Boot?" He frowned.

"Car!"

Ah...right… Boot was what British people called the trunk. "You want me to put Micah in the trunk?"

"Yes! Then...burn!"

"Burn?"

"Place! Burn...this place! Cover it up! Can't... We... They...can't know we're here! And then...hide… No...ummm..." Foxx trailed off. The man frowned, his eyes flicking around, looking panicked.

"Foxx, you are sounding slightly...crazy and confused." He slowly brought the bag closer again. "Why don't you let me feed you before saying more, hmm?" he said as he tried to attach the bag.

Foxx turned away. "No!" he whimpered. "You… You don't understand! They...they will kill you! AH!" Foxx gasped. "Tony! We call him... He won't… They won't..." The vampire trailed off, his eyes starting to close, before jerking, gaze going wide as he croaked, "Yes, Tony! He could register...you! Secretly!"

"Foxx..." Harlow hesitated. "Why would I need to register as a vampire secretly?"

"Harlow..." Foxx whimpered, sniffling as his head rolled back. "Sorry… I-I should have noticed..." The vampire's eyes slowly slid shut.

Harlow dropped the bag, one hand threading through Foxx's hair as he gently lifted his head forward while he lightly tapped his face. "Come on, brat, keep those eyes open."

Whining, Foxx's eyes fluttered open again.

"That's it. Keep them open. You want to tell me, don't you? About why I need to be registered in secret? Because something about it is scaring you, right?"

"Yes." The vampire sniffled.

"I'll let you tell me, but you have to promise that once you do, you'll let me feed you more blood. Will you let me do that? If you do, afterwards, I will do whatever you want me to, okay?" Harlow said, in an attempt to reason with the dazed and stubborn ass vampire. Because he figured, even if he tried to force-feed him again, he'd just end up with more blood spraying everywhere.

"Okay," Foxx murmured.

"Okay. Now, tell me the reason."

"It's...because...you're...not…" Foxx shuddered. "A vampire."

Harlow blinked. "I'm...not?"

"No..."

"Then what the fuck am I?"

"You're a..." Foxx swallowed hard. "You're a... You're a...dhampir."