Why? Why had they done this to her?
She collapsed in a heap, unable to remain standing any longer, and buried her face in her hands as she attempted and failed to control her violent sobs. Tears flowed down her cheeks like non-slowing rivers, soaked up by her sleeves and running down her arms. Her shoulders shook as sobs ripped through her body.
She knew they had left. She could sense it, sense the room was empty except for her and her over-whelming grief. Of course they had left. They'd done what they wanted to and were long gone. Still, she forbade herself from crying any louder than her current soft keening. They didn't need to know how she was suffering, and the tears doubled as she remembered all over again.
They were gone. All of them. All of the people she had cared for. The only ones she could trust. All of them: gone. She'd never see their faces again.
It had been wrong to lock all her desperate sadness away for so long. She should have listened, should have used the knife while she still could have. Should have gotten rid of them then. How could she have held back? But it was too late now. It had passed, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was over.
They had destroyed her.
Half an hour later, she pulled herself together, her face set with resolve and determination. This wasn't over yet. Not. By. Far.

~*~

He took a single step towards her, anticipation and blood-lust buzzing in his veins like every other hunt. He couldn't wait for the sweet deliciousness of the girl's blood to sate his everlasting thirst...
The moment she sensed the movement, she whirled around and reflexively withdrew a long, thin knife from a hidden sheath. Only a simple steel dagger. What chance did it have? He suppressed a laugh at the useless weapon. It was no match against his immortal strength and experience.
The girl backed away as he continued to advance toward her, a naked fear in her eyes. She held the knife out at him, and he didn't even flinch.
Letting a low chuckle escape his throat, he leaned into her tempting scent, waiting for the right moment to strike. Maybe if he spoke, she'd have more a reaction—humans could be dreary oftentimes, and the hunt was the best part after the feast. "Now, now… Do you really think that measly blade can do anything to me…" he smirked. This mere human didn't have a chance.
He caught a flash of recognition in her eyes, and I smiled secretly. "Measly blade?" she echoed. "Xavier, I think you should know a blade as significant as this one in your history. Or does the true form help your memory? Laktnoz," she commanded, and the thin dagger transformed into a deadly, glistening sword. The weapon of bloody pasts. The weapon of…a vampire slayer. The vampire slayer.
A flood of shock rushed through his body. How!? How did this girl know his name? Was it…her? The one who she had left the sword to? The heiress?
Perfect.

~*~

"I must say," Xavier mused aloud. "That was quite the acting back there, Your Highness. Unless you were truly scared? Possibly…"
I resisted a shudder. I had only interacted with him for less than three minutes, yet he knew my identity—or at least title—and emotions already. It was his possession of this information that made me vulnerable to him. If Xavier knew any more about me, he could reduce me with ease and I'd be at his mercy.
No wonder Xavier was the lord of all vampires. It wasn't only his regal and honored, pure bloodline, the Madoski, but his skill was legendary even when compared to the outstanding skill of the princess of the Pranton vampire slayer line—me. This was one of my very most difficult missions yet, and I'd barely begun.
I scrutinized my opponent's features. To expect perfection in all vampires, both any gender and age, had been pounded into my mind through rigorous training, but the lethal beauty of Xavier's features took my breath away. He was lithe and deadly, speed and strength superior to all—all results of his pure vampire blood.
The minute picture of Xavier on my mission file did nothing but to give me a vague idea of what he looked like, just enough to identify him if I saw him. Everything was burned almost immediately, so the image I recalled was not very clear. In reality, however, he was a feast to the eyes, even in vampire standards. My will was succumbing to his intoxicating charm—must be part of his vampire powers—and I struggled to focus on the task before me. My mission was to kill Xavier, a task proving harder by the second.
Xavier began to circle me, and I did my best to make sure my back never faced him. It would prove disastrous if that ever happened.
But it was futile.
I gasped involuntarily when he appeared soundlessly at my shoulder, right behind me. I'd forgotten to factor in his pureblood abilities to my defense. So, so foolish. That could've been the end of my life.
But I wasn't going down without a fight.
Swiftly, I plunged Laktnoz into his side, so fast the blade was a blur—but a sweep of wind, and he was gone, the sword stabbing air, him reappearing before me.
"You know," he hissed, his feline grace of a panther's. "I believed you really were a simple human at first, but the Princess? Never…" He slinked to my other side, and I twisted to face him again, my heart rate picking up as my adrenaline kicked in. A hint of a smile flickered across my face for a second before disappearing. It was about time those slayer instincts kicked in.
I dove at him in the middle of his last word with my weapon, eyes flicking to his feet as he dodged. This attack had been especially significant in past missions. Just before he steadied, in that single moment, my foot shot up to knock him off balance again. With a smirk, he regained his balance before I could take advantage of it, ruining my attack.
I cursed under my breath.
"You'll have to do a lot better than that," Xavier commented, almost taunting. "I'm not like the others you've killed… Show me what you've got, Princess."
An angry hiss escaped my clenched teeth. How dare he tease me? How dare he abuse my title? With a silent snarl baring my teeth, I struck again, this time almost landing the blow before he intercepted it and somehow sent the force back at me so my hand trembled.
Being deterred again and again only ignited a fire of anger. Xavier was my hardest assignment, by far—all of the others I had killed by the first few days, but it had taken more than usual to track this one down and finally assault him. This irritated me, and irritation often made me more tactless—but I was in control. Ever since my loss, I had made sure of that. I would never let anyone see me cry again. I would act instead of weep, and it was my duty to rid the world of something worse than filth, these vampires, Xavier.
This wasn't over yet.

~*~

I lunged one last time, feigning another offensive attack, then disappeared.
Confused, Xavier hesitated. I know he was wondering, where had I gone? And then—I was behind him—ready with my blade—he turned but not quite quick enough—
"Impressive, but still not fast enough," he whispered into my ear. I froze. How had he possibly done that? I had been at my fastest, ever, but he'd dodged my blade as if it were nothing! I began to step back, ready to attack again, but realized I couldn't move my body. What had that vampire scum done!? Was it magick? It had to be—nothing else could enhance to such a condition as his, nothing could bind me without touching me. I'd never met a vampire, or anyone, that could use magick like this. Was this particular in the pureblood lord? I shivered, knowing I was moments away from death.
"Hmm…" he purred. "You amuse me, to say the least. I think I'll keep you."
"Bastard! You—you'll never—have me alive!" I gasped out.
"No, Princess. I'm your lord now." He stroked the underside of my chin, and I struggled furiously against my bindings. How dare he touch me! I glowered at him, and he mock-flinched back, chuckling softly. "That glare stings, Princess…Be kind."
Kind!? How could I possibly be kind to him? To vampires? They'd taken everything that meant anything to me before—my family, my loved ones, my home. The lovely mansion I'd grown up with was ashy remains now. And now this wretched creature was going to take away the last important thing in my life—my duty. I had to fight back! I had to!
"Grahh!" I screamed violently, and broke free of the invisible bindings, lashing out viciously. Xavier leaped back just in time to prevent getting his body cut open, an angry red mark appearing on the flawless skin of his chest, visible through a rip in his white shirt, which was becoming crimson with blood.
No one, mortal or immortal, had ever left a mark on him since he'd become Lord. His feral eyes gleamed silver as his lip curled in a silent snarl. "You shouldn't have done that, Princess."
"No!" I cried breathlessly as he immobilized me again, much stronger than last time. He stood behind me, his fingers trailing across my throat, and I shuddered. He bent toward me, skimming his fangs across my skin, and I closed my eyes in agony. He was going to bite me. I was about to become a vampire, something I'd rather die than have happen to me.
But he drew back. "Not many have the mind capacity to break free of my grasp no matter how much I'm holding back. You certainly are quite amazing. No wonder you're the princess, Alexis Pranton. Seventeen human years, yet you've done so much. Excellent…" My chest felt like it had been squeezed. He knew exactly who I was, my age, my name. "Yes, I know who you are, Your Highness, and I also know who killed your family." He let the words hang in the air as I stiffened.
My voice ripped through the heavy silence. "What?"
"I can help you, Princess…Just be mine."

It's a cold November night. The trees have shed their thick cover of leaves, foolishly, exposing their brittle bark skins to the world. The wind whistles loudly, yet so high up, she can't hear a thing. The tiles of the roof are uncomfortable, but she has long gotten used to their hard edges digging into her legs.
She leans back on her arms, gazing up at the myriad of stars scattered freely across the stone black slate of the night sky. A chill creeps down her bare arms, her long, black hair flowing gently to the side in the breeze, and she shivers. The soothing peace of solitude is difficult to release, but she reluctantly begins to rise from her sitting position to retrieve her jacket from inside.
"Oh, you going in?" asks a familiar voice, currently hinted with badly suppressed sadness. She glances up, meeting his bright, olive green eyes. He is dressed in a thick parka, and holds her sweater in his right hand.
Her heart seems to swell in her chest at his thoughtfulness. "No, not anymore. Thanks." She smiles at him, gratefully accepting the clothing and pulling it on as he carefully takes a seat beside her, by the cold railing. He pulls her icy hands into his warmer ones, fire and ice, instinctively weaving their fingers together. His skin against her sparks tiny lightning bolts through her veins, too calming to be adrenaline—but that's the feeling. She lets herself relax in his assuring company, resting her head against his shoulder, thighs touching lightly. He is the only one she would ever allow in her private sanctuary.
She allows her eyes to slide closed, imagining the tranquil silence wrapping around them like a thick, wool blanket, accompanied by the flickering of a blazing fire. Times like this, just sitting together doing nothing, are the ones she loves the most.
His soft question does not pierce and shatter the atmosphere, merely sending ripples of disturbance that can be easily smoothed out. "Why do you like it up here so much?" His tone is wondering and curious, rather than accusing and scorning. She likes his way of inquiring much better than theirs, and lets herself relax.
He waits in anticipation for the answer. She is silent for so long that he expects her never to answer. Maybe she has fallen asleep? He leans over to check, doing his best not to jostle her.
He holds his breath as he studies her face closely, afraid even the soft fluttering of his exhales will rouse her. She is so stunningly beautiful he wouldn't be able to breathe anyways. Her expression is smooth of stress and tension, the furrow that appears between her eyebrows when she feels on edge now nonexistent. He is loath to wake her up and disturb her after such a tiring weekmonthlife, and starts to return to his original position.
"I like it up here..." she whispers suddenly, and he realizes with some embarrassment that she was awake after all.
"Why?" he prompts, still curious. He's always curious about her. She's too mysterious, too distant... He's afraid someday he'll wake up and find she has dissolved into a fine mist, beyond his reach forever. He never wants to let her go, and is afraid she's leave him someday.
Her eyelids flicker open, revealing those piercing blue eyes, as icy as her hands. "It's..." she fumbles for the words, "really private. It's my own. When everything is too much, I come up here and it doesn't seem too bad anymore..." Her gentle voice fades as her eyes shut again.
He blanches. She said she came up here to be alone, for isolation and privacy...but he was up here. With her. Intruding. Was she angry at him? Did she really want him to leave, but she didn't want be rude and kick him out? He swallows, at a loss. What to do? Could he stay? Would she want him to leave, even if she hadn't said anything?
"What's wrong?" she asks, her voice breaking through the panicky haze of his mind. She had felt him tense under her head, and lifted it to turn back and examine his expression. He'd concealed his emotions quickly, something he'd always been particularly skilled at in all the time she'd known him, and it had been hard for them to open up to each other at first.
"N-nothing." He avoids her eyes—of course she would be able to read them, too easily.
She frowns to herself, knowing she has upset him, and reaches up to touch his cheek lightly. When he leans into her palm, she takes that as a signal he is not angry at her, at least, and moves her hand to the back of his neck gently to pull his face toward hers.
He tries not to blush when she draws his head down close to hers. Does she have no idea what she does to him? She seems to have no qualms against this confident movement, but he is less brave than her. He's always known that, and her courage is one of the things he admires in her the most.
"Tell me what's wrong," she demands, her voice contrastingly soft.
He wonders if she likes to embarrass him on purpose. At least subconsciously. "Um..." he stalls, failing miserably at avoiding her intent gaze. He doesn't want to lose his eyes at the cost of letting her disappear from his sight, so he focuses on the three freckles across the bridge of her nose. They're small and dainty, their delicacy reminding him of the girl who holds his heart.
She trails her fingers down his cheek, her touch hummingbird light, sending spider webs of electricity through his skin. "Will you please tell me?" Her tone has changed—still equally quiet, but more pleading, like sweet cajoling.
He swallows with difficulty, spellbound by her dulcet voice, and manages to force some words out of his throat. "Erm, are you sure you're okay with me being here?"
"Why would you say something like that?" she asks, slightly offended. She doesn't show it though, cautious about revealing too much emotion to him in fear of scaring him away.
The confusion in her eyes is like a breeze of cool air. Relief floods his body, and this uptight set of his shoulders releases slightly. "It's just…" He stops, inhales, and tries to speak again. It's so hard for him to talk about things like this. "Well, you said… You said that this is where you come to be…alone. But I'm here…?"
She stares at him wordlessly, feeling her eyebrows draw together. "Really?" she blurts out before she can check herself. Always speaking without thinking through…it's one of her worst flaws.
She regrets it instantly, as he jerks out of her grasp and pulls away slightly. Not too far, at least, she thinks to console herself as she reaches out to him again. He lets her wrap her arms around his waist, but his downcast expression makes her wish she could snatch the word right out of the air. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that," she whispers, feeling her own features pull down in correspondence to his.
He peeks at her unhappy countenance, his heart sinking when he sees it. It was just an instinctive reaction, one like an irritable kitten clawing out when the hand runs its fur the wrong way. "Sorry," he says immediately, hoping with every cell in his body she will forgive him.
The tightness around her chest releases at the sound of his apology, and she looks back into his eyes. "It's not your fault," she says, still ashamed. "It was mine. I just meant that about them. I don't mind you. I don't mind you anywhere, any time." She has the urge to beg for him to stay with her forever, but decides it's too much still. It's too early for them to say 'forever.'
His smile seems to light up her entire world in just a second, like the birth of a new star. The nebula beforehand shines in its own way, but this burst of brightness is just so much more. She loves his lightning bolt smile, and loves that she caused this one even more.
So when she reaches up to press her lips against the underside of his jaw, just a butterfly touch, it's not actually right to blame her. After all, it was him being so irresistible, wasn't it?
He blushes again, but holds her tightly. She presses her cheek into the center of his chest, below the hollow of this throat between his collarbones, closing her eyes to the steady thumping of his heartbeat. Her fingers flit along his sides up to his shoulders before skimming back down to hold his hands. He tightens his grip, so very glad she's brave enough to touch him like this.
She's not trying to make him uncomfortable, really. He's just so shy, she can't resist. It's just that…he can't see she's incapable of leaving him. That she loves him just as much as he does. That she never wants to leave him. That what they have is something special, something she thought she'd never be able to have.
So when they stare out over the city at the sunlight breaking the darkness between the trees and sky, shattering the outline with those finger-like rays of light, she knows this is how she wants to begin every day of her life...watching the sun rise, with him, in her happy place.
Still, that sun—not matter how magnificent—is no match for the brilliance of his grin.