Chapter Seven

Kevin sat brooding in the study of the large house. His anger over not finding Nick was consuming him. Howie came into the study.

"Kevin, I think you should just let them go, Howie said quietly.

"He's just like Terri, that ungrateful whore," Kevin spat.

"Don't speak of my mother that way," Howie said with slight annoyance.

"She was my mother too. But she couldn't accept me for what I am. Just like he couldn't," Kevin replied.

"Kevin, you're everything she raised us not to be. She tried to make us beautiful, awe-inspiring creatures. The only thing you inspire is fear," Howie said.

"And what law says I shouldn't? I'm a cold-blooded killer and don't forget, you're one too." Kevin said rising, his eyes blazing with anger.

"I only feed to survive. I don't torment and play with my prey. You're also doing the same to AJ. He's going to become just like you," Howie said, planting himself steadfast in front of Kevin.

"What's it to you?" Kevin hissed.

"You're hopeless. I never thought I would say this but I hope you find your destruction soon," Howie said and turned to walk out of the study.

"Damn you!" Kevin roared and picked up a crystal ashtray. It shattered against the door Howie had just closed.
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Sherl shifted to look out over the blanket of clouds. She fingered the passport in her hand, the one that contained her false identity. She almost felt like a fugitive, except her chasers didn't want justice; they wanted death.

She looked over at Nick and noticed he had broken into a cold sweat. "Are you ok?" she asked.

"I'll be fine. Flying always makes me nervous. I'll be back," Nick said, getting up and leaving for the men's room.

Sherl picked a magazine out of the seat pocket and started to flip through it. After several articles, she noticed Nick had not returned from the men's room. Wondering what was taking him so long, she got up and made her way to the back of the plane. It was quiet and dim. Only a few overhead lights shone. One of the two restrooms was marked "Occupied." Hoping it was Nick, she raped softly on the door.

"Nick?" she whispered. There was no answer. She called his name again. A passenger a few rows up turned to look and give her a condescending glare.

"I'll be done with him in a few minutes. You want sloppy seconds?" she barked at him, annoyed with his intrusion. He quickly looked away.

"Nick, what is wrong? I know you're in there," she said. After what seemed like an eternity, the latch clicked open.

"Sherl?" a voice from inside.

"Nick, what are you doing in there?" she started to say when Nick grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the restroom. He was pale, almost gray. Hiss breathing was coming in short, spastic movements. A blood sweat shone on his forehead. Nick opened his eyes and they were the pale yellow-green of his vampiric nature. His fangs were clenched in an awful grimace.

She pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser to wipe his face. Nick, what is wrong?" Sherl pleaded.

"I should have never left him. I need his blood. It hurts, Sherl" he whispered, clutching his stomach. He slumped down to the floor. She slid down as much as the small space would let her and continued to mop at his forehead.

"Nick, what should I do?" she cried.

"I need to feed," he said, his face twisting in pain.

"You can't! Not on the plane. Where would you hide the body?" she said.

"I don't need to kill. I just need something," she said. A spasm racked his body and he let out a groan. Sherl didn't know what to do. She had no idea how to help Nick.

He looked her in the eye. He was pleading. "Sherl, I'm sorry. I have to," he whispered. It was then that she realized the only human he could feed from without discovery was she. She closed her eyes remembering the pain when Kevin had fed from her. She took a deep breath and nodded.

Sherl tried to suppress a cry as Nick bent over her and bit deeply into her neck. It was excruciating as he took strong draws from her body. The tiny room began to spin and she felt as if she would pass out.

Nick let go of her before she blacked out and leaned back against the wall, taking in deep breaths. His fangs retracted and his eyes returned to their normal pale blue.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as Sherl held her hand to her neck. Her flesh was throbbing and blood still flowed from the wound. Nick, again, leaned closer to her.

"No, I can't give you anymore," she whimpered.

"Sherl, no. I'm sorry. I had to or risk being discovered. Move your hand, let me heal it," he said quietly, placing a hand on her wrist. She was surprised to feel it was warm.

"You're hand is warm," she said, absently, still not taking her hand away from her neck.

"I know. That always happens to me afterwards. It only lasts a short while,' he said. 'Sherl, you can trust me. Please." Cautiously, she removed her hand from her neck. Nick bit into the pad of his thumb and covered the wound with his blood. Slowly, the throbbing subsided.

"There," he said. He bent his lips to her neck and gently linked away the traces of blood that remained. He could feel her heartbeat and the bloodlust almost returned. He moved away to look at her.

"Next time, could you give me a little more warning about your condition? So I can prepare my self," she asked.