"She's really something." Isaac smirked at Taylor. "No wonder you were attracted to her."

"Ike, stay away from her. Don't even look at her. She'll get inside your skull and fuck with your mind. She makes you think that you need her, that you're better off with her. And once she has you, you believe her. You can't get enough and once you do its too late. Your life is gone."

"Tay, why'd you do it? You could have come to me, we would have figured something out. I'm your best friend, and your big brother."

"I was, confused, and lost. I thought I had no where to go, better yet, I never thought."

"I don't understand."

"You never will."

"I would if you'd explain it to me."

"I can't, not now. My memories are all distorted because of the change. I can't remember the feelings, only bits and pieces. I can't explain anything, I'm sorry."

Isaac put his hand on Taylor's shoulder, "It's alright. We'll get through this."

"No, I won't but you will. And I hope you can learn to deal with what you now know."

"What are you talking about?"

"The only way to stop Zac is to kill him. I'm thinking along the lines of decapitation. But if I can kill him I won't be able to go back home. I wouldn't be able to face them."

"What do you mean if you can kill him? What happens if you can't?"

"He'll kill me."

Her eyes were blurred and what she was seeing didn't seem to make sense. Zac's hair looked like a yellow mass of clouds that were slowly but surely fading and getting darker. His face had no facial features, and his voice sounded miles away and about two octaves too low. Yet she knew he had features because she could feel his nose against her shoulder, and his mouth against her neck. And she knew that he was right next to her, and not far away like he seemed, because his hands held her tight against the wall. "Zac?" She was desperate to make out his name, and to get his attention. He didn't hear her, lost in the rhythmic sounds and motion of his feeding. She fell.

"Kara?" He looked at her crumpled figure on the ground. "Get up, I'm still hungry." She didn't answer him. "Damn it, bitch, when I say get up I want you to get up." He delivered a swift kick into her stomach. She didn't respond. She didn't even groan or cry like she usually did. For some reason he was concerned, and he bent down and picked her up. He head fell back limp. The dawning that she was dead slowly rose over him. "Why didn't you turn?" He looked at her, gangly and disgusting and dead. Not dead and waking, but dead as in 'ready to be buried' dead. He laid her on the blankets, confused and sad. "All I wanted was someone to belong to me. Someone who needed me unconditionally." He stared at her. "Why didn't you turn!" He screamed. He laid his head on her chest, and sobbed. He didn't think vampires could cry, but he proved himself wrong.
"Don't cry." Her voice was melodic and sweet.
He looked up.



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The Eighteenth Night