Prologue

In the time that followed she would always remember that year as a crazed and terrifying beast of burden. Though on occasion it could be magnificent and mesmerizing, As Lana Dempsey saw the night in ways no other human would, specifically no other human that lived to tell the tale that is. A tale, no doubt that wouldn’t be believed by anyone else.

Yet this beast of burden terrified her for she barely had any control over it, a mortal world that was busy, conflicted and natural but this beast was unnatural. It was very unnatural indeed....

He was the needle and thread her heart needed but didn’t want, not to begin with anyhow. The strawberry-blonde was happy to emotionally bleed out, for such was the fashion back then. The screaming and hollering of a generation so jaded that their souls were tainted green along with their words.

Not always in red anger like the papers said but disinterested and vague, passions were left to the people with the microphones and thrashing guitar notes. Her last weekend as her old self was a bit of a blur now.

A colorful blur with music and friends and laughter before the memory of Iain Carmichael would rain on the parade.

“This is all too mad to last you know?” Iain would often say with a smile, always sadness before a smile.

“I’m all for going crazy, but only for you, mind” Lana shouted back on some blustery day in the country amid a happy love affair. Granted it was a bit clandestine being the teacher and students as well as lovers. It was a good three years past her adolescence and she thought it a wonderful invite to adulthood.

Or so she thought...

One year later and love was not such a splendid thing to Lana, nor was the her father’s redundancy. Love made her soar high before life brought her down into a tail spin. It veered out of control at an oddily steady pace. So Lana chose to forget in ways most young people forget

...This was not her beast of burden but what came after.

Of all the things she feared while two worlds collided on so violently with each other, Lana Dempsey greatly feared walking back into daylight and possibly never loving anyone as much as she loved him.

The deeply conflicted Spaniard, an immortal that was growing tired of the gift of eternity was given his last saving grace by saving her. There would be moments where he wished he hadn’t but they would be cast out by the dozens more that made Raul glad he did.

His Love for Lana was the thorn of the rose that pricked him, injured him. Beguiled by the beauty of love only for it to betray him to the point he didn’t know himself anymore. Two wounded people would come to heal the other but not before sacrifice, for nothing ever came without sacrifice.

It’s a cruel law of living that nobody questions yet quite understands. These two torn souls would dance in around love and death, night and day, good and evil, selfishness and selflessness. Once the music stopped could the two ever be the same again?

A trio of friends walk drunkenly home after a moderately successful night of mischief, moderate in the fact it began on Sunday night and College would be eight hours later. or the fact it was Sunday, the runt of Father Time’s children and the quiet holy whisper before the maddening screams of Monday morning.

It may very well have been God’s great day of rest but to everyone else it was a day of dread, complete and utter dread. For Monday was the coming tyrant invading peaceful lands or storms in the summer time – In short if Michael did ring out Judgement Day it most likely would fall on a Monday.

It was a gaggle of superb clumsiness as not only were the friends drunk but they followed the hardcore habit that all revellers - female and feckless usually - make at one time or another. That was to wear heels with very little balance, down the road they clattered, their footwear thundering along as if they were glitzy, bright-coloured horseshoes.

Nathanial Armitage with his flares and platforms, Lana Dempsey with her heels and trousers with Jessica Howard and her wrap skirt and pixie boots.

“God I feel like I’m in a cave, why are cobbles so bloody noisy?” Nathan whispered as he tried the light-footed approach although he did feel rather daft, he didn’t mind as he knew he was drunk enough not to care.

“Nobody’s about, it’s One in the morning and you basically have a rock on the soles of your feet” Lana replied as she nudged her friend playfully.

“Hey, what’s good for the gander is good for the goose. At least they stable and not things that look like leather needles. Honestly, Jessie how can you wear them?” Nathan now turned to the woman that walked at his left side, staring down at the ankle-breakers he shook his head.

“...Vogue says so that’s why, darling” Jess roped an arm around Nate’s neck and played the professional aficionado she hoped she would soon become.

Nathan smiled sheepishly as again friendship and the intimacy known only to lovers tread a fine line.

“If it hadn’t been for the rain I would have walked barefoot” Lana mumbled, she too became self-conscious of how loud her footsteps really were.

“It’s not even spring yet, there’s no tea and hardly any shopping in, loud kettle too early in the morning for-” The engineering student listed flatly.

“Okay, Jesus I get the point, my feet are sore that’s all” Lana snapped back as she began to hobble a little.

“You sure you’re okay about tomorrow? Just skip the morning class, you don’t have to see him” Jessie asked with a slur.

It was still an open wound, still a sore subject. Lana resigned a deep sigh and put her hand on her hip.

“I’ve faced him a few times Jessie, tomorrow isn’t going to be any worse off than Thursday” Lana stared blankly ahead but was a tad irritable over the topic.

“...Only if you let it get to you?” Nathanial groaned

“Yes only if I let it get to me which I don’t and I haven’t...for a while” Lana jabbered on defensively. At which point Jessica stopped her and took her aside.

“Who are you angrier at, Iain or yourself?” The journalism student said sternly, her brown eyes showed she sobered up at little.

Nobody liked this subject, not even Lana, it was messy history but it was her messy history.

“It’s a tie most days, unless he’s being patronising. Which is my favourite bugbear in the whole world” Lana flailed sarcastically. The blonde was exasperated and baffled by the man that loved her but more or less left her – Emotionally if not physically.

“You’re lying, badly I must add but I’m tired and I’m cold, I’m ready for bed” Jessie dramatically wrapped her scarf around her neck.

None of the mortals had any idea that they were all being watched. As the group stumbled further down the road, a young man who had no business being on the roof observed them intensely.

Mentally picking and probing what his best target would be, the strange youth analyzed each person.

'Now what would be best? The vain redhead or gangly, loud northerner? Tall enough not to need platform shoes or shall it be the distressed-looking blonde?'

“Hmm she could do with cheering up it seems, the blonde girl it is then” The pallid man mused to himself as leaned against a chimney turret then jumped out of sight.

Lana Dempsey drunkenly collapsed into the armchair, her last Sunday of a good night’s sleep for a very long time...

A weak beam of morning light seeped through the ivory netting and trickled onto the floor, vanquishing the darkness from the room. Eventually the beams fell upon the silhouette of a young woman. Sound asleep, her makeshift bed a raggedy, old armchair. Awkwardly sprawled out on the compact structure, she was gently roused by the sudden warmth on her hand.

With a hoarse groan, the woman clumsily slithered out of her tight spot, a compressed corner she had fallen into several hours earlier. Fatigued and disorientated she sighed over the responsibilities of the day ahead.

“Nat, Nathan…Didn’t I tell you to set the alarm?” The girl whimpered, unsurprisingly it came to no reply; after a few irritating moments of clearing her throat she tried again.

Still her calls went unanswered, cursing under her breath she used whatever energy she had and pulled herself up from the armchair. Hobbling into the narrow hallway, her knock on flatmate Nathaniel’s bedroom door was gentle at first but became fierce as she slammed her hand on the door knob, it flew open to reveal an empty den.

A wide crease on the black and white striped duvet suggested a hurried hand. Books and clothes strewn around the room portrayed a panicked and disorganised lifestyle. A depiction of Nathaniel Armitage - a man of a shy, nervous disposition one day and a zany, screwball live–wire the next. But it seemed a bit more rushed than usual, even for Nathan.

Then it hit her, eyes widening as she added the clues up, closing her eyes and shaking her head she slowly looked to her left and up at a high corner of one of Nat’s Royal Blue walls, a small clock…It was 9:35.

“Oh my good God… Why did he? How could-?" She stammered, tensing up as she let out a choking growl throwing her arms up in the air she manically dashed about the dormitory.

She was desperate to find suitable clothes, some of her fellow students argued suitablly for society. A prim and ridiculously proper establishment surrounded her, leaving those of her fazed and forlorn generation to spout rage and disdain for it all. Clothes were no exception.

Ripping off her dark PVC trousers and slashed sleeved top she opted for an angelic-white tunic and tidier Denim jeans. Next obstacle was her fieldwork which she clutched tightly as she sped out the door.

Racing down the avenue, with her mind full of dread, flashes of her tutor’s scowl, she had little regard for the poor souls who crossed her path. Furious yells came from those who were jolted and carelessly pushed aside were ignored, a few nanoseconds spared for guilt and remorse yet quickly forgotten.

Gasping for breath she staggered up the entrance steps to Kings’ college hallway. The building was marred with all that was the British reserve; polished floors, well-kempt notice boards, hushed calm voices of those going about their business. All glossed and superficial, what Nathan would call ‘An adhesive frame of mind’ working over the cracks as best they could.

“Really Miss Dempsey, I’d imagine your mother despairs of you?” A mousy yet firm voice said.

After the task of regaining her strength, Lana Julianne Dempsey had to face gaining some composure, despite her heart and mind set on shaking the living daylights out of her selfish flatmate who left her behind.

She braced herself for the dull experience of becoming victim to Well's droning – Haughty receptionist and head of the college’s busybodies and gossipmonger’s club. The eternally curt woman wore a grey Pussy Bow blouse and A-line skirt that had conformity written somewhere in the hemline, she gazed at the student disapprovingly.

“Mrs Wells…Agatha; my mother despairs of me and I despair of my mother, it’s quite the norm these days” Lana answered tauntingly. Lana was never too dynamic or daring.

Truth be told if it were not for the bullying atmosphere of the Punk Movement she would be a shrew. But times were changing and tempers were fraying, hers included. Quietly sizzling along a gunpowder trail ready to find a keg, along with the rest of her generation.

“So I've been told...” Agatha concluded, her green eyes glistening with scornful satisfaction behind her wide rectangular glasses.

All Lana could do was politely nod expressing her dubiousness by raising her eyebrows, before she picked up the pace again as she stomped and occasionally skidded along the waxed floor before darting around a corner. Agatha watched her go, sighing and shaking her head she checked the numerous memos and public statements she had to process that morning.

Weary of her chained-to-a-desk life, she was only too aware of how precious the job was heading back to her workspace, her mind drifted to her daughter Alice. Proficient and affable as the fifty-year-old secretary was, she couldn’t ignore that the tiny droplet of youthful insolence was turning into a moderate ripple it was only a matter of time before both Alice and herself would be dragged along with the riptide.

Lana walked cautiously towards the classroom door, towards the familiar baritone voice of Iain Carmichael as he bellowed the anecdotes expected from a history teacher. always loud, gregarious and passionate. Traits that Lana discovered were not just restricted to the college grounds; a chance encounter in a nightclub quickly led to an affair that lasted three months.

It was in the last days of her own blissful ignorance, when everything felt nice and rosy before the consuming level of apathy gripped the nation so tightly, it was almost choked to death. The memories that flooded back every time she saw him became less and less comforting so much so that life was turning so askew she felt sick.

“Come on Lana keep it together, don’t let him see weakness’ she whispered to herself as she leaned her head against the window few of her fellow students took notice and with a sweaty, slightly shaking palm she opened the door.

The rusty hinges heralded her unpunctual appearance; the class was enveloped into a stony silence while Lana gingerly made her way through the human labyrinth towards her seat, sending Nathan the coldest stare her eyes could muster.

“….The tools of propaganda were powerfully harnessed by the likes of Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery and General George S. Patton; in spite of all that was going on around them their alliance was in fact a rivalry” Iain spluttered and he continued his duties as a teacher managing quick gazes at his former lover, traces of guilt and dismay flickering in his green eyes.

“Miss Dempsey, perhaps you can give us possible reasons why the rivalry occurred with so much going on at the time?” Iain inquired nervously.

Lana’s body language showed no signs of wanting to be brought to centre stage to test the certain interest in education that Lana wasn’t sure she had anymore, but he had no choice, he was teacher after all.

Lana made a deep sigh, the sound floated throughout the room, the gossip-mongers mingled in their hushed voices over witnessing another chapter in the scandal that may or may not have happened.

“Mister Carmichael, as impossible as it sounds especially with everything going on, pride was a factor. Ambition also, every campaign had a need to be strong or successful as their counterpart?” She answered slowly, feigning a jeering smile as she did so.

“Careful with your assumptions Miss Dempsey, a rivalry was rumoured yes - Do you believe the war effort benefitted from it?” Iain continued, he dared to warn her as a teacher would. It did not make Lana feel any better to see he had a glazed stare as he waited for a reply.

"If it’s objectivity you’re after then…Both Field Marshal Montgomery and General Patton were both powerful men, with duties to uphold and reputations to keep. However, they were not susceptible to the attentions of the media- or the desire to be war heroes” Lana seethed quietly; she couldn’t hide the hurt she felt but was determined to save a little dignity.

“You are observant after all, good that's good” Iain stammered, apologetically.

Lana shrugged before slumping into her seat she ran her tense fingers through the thick mass of strawberry blond hair. Her loyalty to the punk movement stood out in a single strand of peroxide black.

" Oh dear a lover's tiff again? In front of the whole class and everything, tsk” A male voice crept from behind. Nathaniel’s cockiness fed her fury even more but she tried to let it pass, tried to acknowledge the conflicts of Nathan’s Jekyll and Hide persona but she couldn’t.

“You better not be talking to me Armitage, we’ve got less than five minutes left in here when we’re finished I’m going to kick your selfish backside up and down this college- Don’t believe me here’s a taster. Lana fumed, as she turned her body around and kicked her flatmate in the shin.

“If it were not for the desk I would have aimed higher, do it again and I"ll be playing pin the donkey with one of Jessie's shoes!” Lana warned, vengeance did feel good but she realised it was a little over enthusiastic her conscience didn’t stop the gleeful smile that appeared on her face.

Fifteen minutes had passed; Lana was left alone in the class as her fellow classmates set off to another lesson sifting through her beige satchel as she tried in vain to organise the various case studies she had thrown so carelessly into the bag.

On hearing footsteps approaching, she didn’t bother to look up as she assumed it was Katherine Gilchrist; teacher of Social Studies. Lana started to giggle at the lesson’s significance, with all that was going on in the country she could imagine the poor woman changing careers before very long.

“What’s happening Lana, you’re falling behind so badly, why?” Iain Carmichael asked softly, almost sounding like the old Iain the Iain that used to be hers; a sweet, considerate man who - without warning - Turned into the reserved, subdued shell that stood before her.

“A sign of the times? Not caring enough or should that be not cared about enough?” She whispered, holding her breath as the regret of a love lost came out in the open an action she did not intend or expect.

“I almost feel guilty now, I've given you something to be angry about?" Iain pleaded, his words were heavy with remorse yet still nervous as he had yet to deal with the consequence of his actions.

“I don't appreciate the tone of voice, you're too young to sound anything like your workmates. You're a 28-year-old teacher, I'm a 21-year-old student, we both had a great time together. The world didn't end Iain...” Lana protested defiantly as she slipped the satchel strap over her shoulder and cautiously passed the teacher by.

“...Yet” Iain snapped as he threw a folder hard on his table.

“Oh wait of course it is, three day weeks and all that - nothing worse, not even rejecting someone that loved you” Lana rebuked coldly, the jilted lover began to walk off though Iain had yet to finish his side of the furore.

“Who rejected who exactly? There's more to you then finding someone just to help you escape from something!” He raged on, the unspoken love was still powerful, regardless of the heartache it was still the elixir of strength in one instant and a spear to do harm in another.

“That's a crime now is it, something to be frowned upon like 'God Save the Queen? " Lana was foolish enough to step towards him just long enough to know she was still willing to gamble for love, but Iain wasn’t playing, not this time. He hung his head and grimaced at the reality of the moment.

“Do you know how hard it was to convince the board there was nothing going on?” He cooed, his hand wandered up before he forced it down, wanting so much to comfort her, to feel that intimacy again. But he forsook it and there was no going back. They were long past that and they both knew it, Lana could just about keep the tears from flowing until she walked along the hallway. Leaving Iain to reflect on his mistakes; both past and present.

The world-weary young woman tucked her skinny hands under her head and mused at the fluffy clouds that floated thousands of feet above her if the tunic she wore was clean it wouldn’t be for long, she had only be lying on the green for a few minutes yet was already noticing the faint dabbles of grass stains she smiled at the sky as it showered her with the warm, spring sunshine.

“Nathan let me borrow your coat for a while? It’s quite chilly today” Lana asked as she took her arms from under her head and wrapped them tightly around her.

Nathan wanted to bear a grudge but knew it was pointless as he was raised to know better, he was only too aware of being part of a dwindling league of gentlemen: The kind that held doors, paid dinners, protected women from a near-by brawl. Or just simply to hand over the jacket when they got cold.

Lana took no time in swamping herself within the large bomber jacket and nuzzled her cold cheeks against the sheepskin collar.The two friends were distracted by the curious muffled sounds coming out of a transistor radio the sound was slowly increasing in volume as Lana tried to make out the song through the crackled airwaves.

“You two must have been spark out this morning” A South London voice trilled through the air. Lana reappeared from her wool and leather cocoon and looked up at the shadowed figure that stood before her.

“What happened to you? Oh I didn't know you were friends with the Bay city rollers?” Lana asked, blinking to fight the weak sight caused by the mid-afternoon sun then blinked again as she studied her friend’s new flight of fancy with fashion.

Jessie Howard was the second and most vivacious of Lana’s live-wire friends while Nathan would burn up and burn out, Jessie would go from one extreme to another affecting almost every aspect of her life; relationships, employment, social interactions. But it was fashion in particular she held close to her heart, to her it was no hobby, it was a way of life.

Today belonged to the Celts, another dreadful mark of novel, frivolous fashions outside Punk, the variety show style that became almost vaudevillian, theatrical. Like some bad Punch and Judy act had made it's way into music notes as well as fashion, Lana wasn’t too impressed.

Jessie posed proudly in the array of tartan; the skirt and even the heavy tweed coat that stood out like a sore thumb was tartan, clashing with breezier garments. Garments made for the new breed of hippies, as well as the avid sun-worshippers.

“Lana don’t steal my thunder, they cost me a lot of money and I quite like them” Jessie whined, as she acted the poise of a Plentiful Prima-Dona. One hand curled below her neck, the other resting gracefully on her head. She was joking of course, but something told Lana that her friend daydreamed of such a life.

“I’m just playing, who am I to tell you how to dress? I'm no vogue editor and I'm not Jerry Hall either. Dress however you like, Jessica” Lana giggled, before making a peace offering in the shape of a genuine compliment.

Jessie remained unconvinced as she caught Nathaniel rolling his eyes but she left it alone. Feeling slightly deflated she turned up the radio and hummed to the last encore of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust and the spiders from Mars.

After that the three friends drifted off into their own individual worlds of thought and memories; some good, some bad but all in complete silence. Lana’s mind was filled with thoughts of home, of her mother and sister also of her troubled father whom since being made redundant was a changed man.

Nathaniel’s thoughts dwelled on an engineering dream he had planned, it was currently hampered with obstacles and dead ends but the determination was still there, a trait he was proud to own. Jessie’s mind once again wandered back to the idea of fashion photography, it was cool to be contemporary in anything but she so desperately wanted to heed what could be her real calling.

The idea of being triumphant, even in small ways in front of those who opposed her ideas, teachers and relatives that regularly trampled on her ideas. Those whose horizons were blocked by office building or banks. They were each gently ushered back to the realm of reality by a quiet tweet of a bird singing after a few bewildering moments that realised it was coming from the radio.

“No sorry. Off now, turn it off now!” Lana growled as she sat upright she reached for the volume switch.

As jaded and lost as Lana felt, she did enjoy a few feckless frivolities when she needed cheering up. The drifter would go and see the latest sentimental film or even listen to the few folk songs that had any optimism left - who else would that be other that sweet Joni Mitchell?

Her sister Catherine was three years younger than her and the memory that burned the most in Lana’s mind was a happy-go-lucky girl dressed in red, patchy dungarees and a thick bowler haircut. Despite being opposites in persona and in looks they shared a solid relationship, in hazy summers gone by they would bop to the catchy guitar rift and hopelessly attempt to guess the lyrics of T. Rex’s ‘white swan’.

“Forget Beethoven, Stanley Kubrick should have used that in A Clockwork Orange- that would have been more than enough!” Lana said firmly.

“I take it you don’t like it then?” Nathan joked as he grinned at the genuine discomfort Lana had with the song, like it was some mad phobia.

The three friends watched as straying students both off and on the campus returned in their droves. The freedom of Lunchtime ended and the second segment of the day’s dreary studying was about to begin. After they claimed their belongings they strode along the green towards the college; back to class, back to an unwelcome reality.

Hours later and Lana yawned while watching the mania of people rushing to get home almost everyone was quick to the pace; jogging, sprinting, jabbering hurried goodbyes to the point of being rude. For Lana, dashing meant exertion and she didn’t have any, after only five hours of sleep she was practically in a daze. the college was brimming with those from all walks of life; Hippies, beatniks, Mods. Even the lesser known faculties of Eco-warriors and Bohemian hobo were making their presence known.

The crowds dispersed once the furious horns and frustrated shouts of drivers wanting to go home shot at them from every angle in the middle of the fracas, Lana spied Iain Carmichael slinking into the background as he mounted his black and yellow Raleigh bicycle. Lana turned away, it hurt but she admitted her cowardice and shuffled away before her ex would notice.

Strolling along the quiet suburbia, it was eerily still but Lana was comforted by the lights that were beaming out of parlour and bedroom windows. Twilight was ebbing away and the mystical purple of the sky was turning darker by the minute, a strong breeze wafted through her body the first touch of the cold night air was not welcome and slipping her bare hands under her arms she quickened her pace.

Upon turning the corner the disaffected youth cursed under her breath as she looked on towards a deserted park; the attendant who was usually generous with time-keeping had locked up early. As annoyed as she was Lana did not regret the delay, she had two options; one was to get home via the hazardous route of the main road. The other was cutting through St Matthew’s Church, the latter was a grim and disrespectful choice, but one which she was guilty of using frequently.

A few minutes later the blonde trespasser was creeping along the dead-end alley that stretched along the sacred and prohibited property of the stately basilica. Lana forced her foot into a crook in the wall and carefully pressed herself against the bricked pillar, on taking a deep breath she slowly leaned her left leg against the groove and lunged for the top of the wall.

Lana was no wimp, the wall was only 8ft high but a fall could still leave a serious injury. She looked out at the graveyard that dominated the property, shaking her head at the nonsensical lengths it took in finding a short-cut home, the night-crawling student hung on to the wall before making a clumsy drop to the ground.

She quickly dusted herself down and cautiously made her way to the public churchyard. It was a pretty spot with primed rose hedges and an oak wood pagoda. For the purpose of leaving mourners and priests a place of peace while sheltering them from the elements. Lana crept through the gravel path and bounded over the Iron Gate, she turned around as the sudden groan of an antique door being opened before Father Grey emerged from the rectory. Gazing into the night sky, he contently rambled around the grove, oblivious to the trespasser that had just crossed into his garden. Lana smiled to herself before hurriedly setting off for the last leg of her journey.

Thoughts of food, warmth and most importantly sleep filled her mind so much so that she was almost lost in her imaginings look. Then something shook her from the daydream, within a few minutes she was observant and alert to everything around her. She started to wonder why until she felt a presence that seemed to be disturbingly close by, turning around she met a shadowed figure, a stranger appearing from nowhere unnerved Lana but she stubbornly held her ground.

“…Quite an odd way to get around isn’t it? I’ve heard of walking through fields and fjords but never a graveyard” The stranger quizzed, his voice was like a growl – deep and strong.

“I won’t tell if you don’t, don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?” Lana said nervously, looking hard to see if she could find a face behind the dark. Strangely enough the silent request was answered as the man discarded his first shroud of mystery and stepped into the floodlight.

His wide brown eyes weakly disguised a sneer as he looked up and down at her, Lana felt oddly attracted to him despite the Neanderthal innuendos; it was something that she couldn’t place. For some reason, instead of making a hasty retreat she felt compelled to stay and face him.

“I merely like to people watch, no harm in that surely, the name‘s Tobin” Hisplayful introduction was a very cocksure swagger. Lana thought about misleading him with an alias, a fabricated story. She planned to steer him away from the truth but before she could think, it came out she didn’t even know why she did it.

“I’m…Lana Dempsey, this neighbourhood is just a stomping ground for my friends and I. Are you new, I can’t place your face to anything?” She explained cheerily, she shook her head and realised the stupidity of her inexplicable actions.

“No I’m…old to these...areas. Well hello and goodbye Lana, short and sweet but maybe I’ll see you?” Tobin swaggered as he returned back into the shadows.

Lana nodded and gave a nervous smile before warily walking away from him. Tensing up, she was convinced she was expecting an attack or another snide remark. She moved several paces up the broken pavement before slowly turning around.

The man had vanished she looked around for doors or narrow passageways that he could have slipped through but there wasn’t any. Totally bewildered she took one last look back before jogging home. She was oblivious to the figure that watched her sprint up the road, a figure that was in no alleyway or crevice. The elusive figure only known as Tobin was crouching at the base of a tall Ash tree a crooked smile of gleaming white teeth was the only clue to his being there.

“Very pleased to meet your acquaintance Miss Dempsey” The man snarled and with that he enveloped himself with the night and began his own journey home.

Nathaniel stood in the hall and studied the trail of scattered clothes and magazines that were tossed carelessly around every corner. He shook his head and reluctantly gathered the mess in a crumpled pile, once satisfied with his effort of slapdash tidying up he returned to the lounge and dumped the pile on to the battered, aged table that was given as a sympathy gift from Jessie’s mother.

He scratched his stubbly chin as gazed around his temporary residence, his minimalist and cramped hole in the wall: The china blue walls were in desperate need of a fresh lick of paint, the room was in dire need of homely furniture instead of the mismatched cream sofa and seaweed green armchair.

But of all it’s flaws, Nathan was extremely proud of what the run-down place represented - freedom, independence and a good simple hideout for when the world got that little bit uglier. He yawned before switching on the 21inch television, a recent commodity that the dorm’s inhabitants were very pleased of possessing.

The furious rattle of keys sounded throughout the flat and in stumbled Lana, her mind still full of the evening’s events, she was still excited by Iain’s sincerity yet was still a little shaken by her encounter with the elusive Tobin

“Moonlighting with lover boy again?” Nathan droningly asked while settling comfortably into the sofa as the funky opening credits of 'Minder' began.

“Discretion is lost on you, truly it is" Lana huffed as he prodded him to make some room on the couch.

Despite the fact that Nathaniel caught the couple in a clinch, she hoped he would find some clarity in time. But he didn’t, finding the level of risk to her education absurd Nathan was a good loyal friend but he had no sympathy for a love affair whose serious casualty would be the forlorn and excluded student and not the academic, reputable lecturer.

“Taking such a risk for the bloke, he’s not worth getting chucked out for Lana” Jessie mused softly as she peered over the May issue of Vogue magazine.

For she too was tired of her friend’s tortured love life, it was sad to see her agonise over something that could not possibly resolve itself quietly and respectfully.

“Well I wasn’t, I owe the man an apology but chickened out like the grown up I am” Lana grumbled as she flicked through the pile to see if there was any precious paperwork to reclaim.

“Good, that’s good, think Chicken – it will help in the long run, then all this Mills and Boone rubbish will be done” Jessie continued; raising her eyebrow as Lana was slow to meet her gaze but she added nothing further.

Most of the night was dedicated to slumming it in front of the Television, entertained by the constant crisis-stricken Granville and unnerved by the uneasy calm in Northern Ireland. The last hours of the week slipped away, Lana was relieved- It had been challenging at best and spirit-crushing at worst.

She was a keen disciple to the holy sanctity of weekenders as no weekend was ever the same; wild to relaxing, eventful to quiet- It didn’t matter, she loved them all the same. It was the best and by far the strongest proclamation of individual freedom and as valuable to her wayward generation as gold.

Nathaniel resisted the taunts of the Friday night party crowd that passed through the avenue and dragged himself to bed leaving the girls to continue in confiding and gossiping to each other till the early hours.

New York was supposedly bankrupt yet studio 54 was still big business, a bright shiny lava lamp attracting all of the wildest glow bugs in the city. If New York was going, it was going out in style!!

Lana voiced her disdain for that music scene yet she didn’t mind the jollity of the madness. Nonetheless it waa slowly but surely turning into a garish, larger than life monster stomping on everything in it’s path.

“If I could stick on PVC trousers for a night…You can stick on a pantsuit” Jessie smirked, envisioning her friend squirming uncomfortably in a typically loud colour like blood red or glittering gold. Lana who was dozing at the time was soon sitting wide-eyed once she heard her friend’s avenging proposal.

“Oh no, no way I’ll do this disco thing, but there will not be any Lycra or polyester or any tight material of any kind. it’s going to be footloose and fancy free or nothing” Lana firmly objected.

Trundling towards her bedroom looking back at Jessie who beamed an appreciated smile at her Lana made a mocking scowl before grinning back. Serenaded by the neighbouring lark singing his sweet and beautifully-soft song, Lana settled into a long and peaceful sleep little realising it would be the last time she would experience such a luxury.

The quiet punk rocker walked along the market lane as she nervously scoured the rickety stalls for tops and trinkets for the evening; she looked hopelessly into the mass of gold necklaces. Nothing was original anymore- you either opted for loose eco-friendly beads or thick Initial pendants.

With fashion industries so heavily divided and dominated with clichés, you were either one or the other: A Bohemian hippie or gregarious disco diva, there was never an in-between; it made Lana feel more isolated, not only did she like to differ from what was expected but she was part of a group society labelled as misfits.

She took her time to deliberate what were best either clothes of the vibrant or of the pastel kind, annoyed by her indecision she looked around the market. The street was buzzing with life – Gaggles of teenagers hunting for statements of cool or rebellious indifference, children fighting in vain to reclaim their much-treasured Saturdays from their bargain-obsessed mothers. Stall traders competed for the prize of the loudest barter on the street

Then there were the outcasts; Motley crews of misfits and lone thugs, the signal was always the same. Quiet hushed voices, uneasy curiosity etching on every face, society’s way of saying ‘you’re not wanted’ was not just reserved for the punks and the much-loathed skinheads.

It was for the unusual yet intriguing doctrines of the Harri Krishna group people who preached nothing but peace and harmony in song and loud chanting were subjected to ignorance and hate. It was a reality check that Lana found particularly hard to swallow, an uneasy silence spread throughout the crowd as Joanna Crawley walked by with a confident bounce.

“Hey JoJo, How’s it going? Marlowe told me about the bust. I’m sorry. It must have been a bit of a drag” Lana said as she picked through the hangers of ruffled shirts and halter necks.

“Nah not too bad, the boys in blue did me a huge favour – I got nicked…and now I have more devotees I got snapped in the local paper. Publicity is publicity!" Joanne grinned at the thought of becoming ever closer to her dream of making it big.

The bandleader had a brash and bullying ego that hid an uncertain young woman, with the Beatles gone and the army of Carnaby Street disbanded, many people felt lost while drifting to and fro between different ideals that barely had a meaning or a purpose.

All they knew was that they were angry but a new command was coming, a loud and feirce presence that would finally give Lana and her generation something significant to shout about…A certain man called Joe Strummer

“What about your gig, bet Marlowe was none too pleased with your groupies trashing his pub?” Lana replied, she spied a scowl at the corner of her eyes as she paid for a top and left the stall.

“You know him, money is money. He’s banned us for a bit but that won’t last long he needs the revenue, the greedy bastard” Jo explained with gritted teeth her frown enhanced by the overwrought use of blue mascara, black eye liner and pale cheeks. They walked in silence for a few minutes as Lana checked the tops for marks, Jo once again guffawed at Lana at the absurdity.

“Quite the chameleon, aren’t you Lana? One minute is punk; the next is boogieing on down…How naff is that?” Jo gibed fiercely but then she never was a fan.

“Don’t you start, I don’t do the boogie thing. If it makes you feel any better I’ll be kicking and screaming all the way there but it’s a favour of the month unfortunately and there’s no way out, so there you have it.” Lana grumbled as she stomped up the road.

“Shame that’s not my scene would have been priceless for the squirming alone” Jo heckled, secretly relieved at the genuine disdain her friend had for the shambled disco fever perhaps Lana was a true punk after all.

“Glad you find it entertaining, maybe you should don some silver hot pants…It could become your closet hobby, singer of Mad Shaman is shockingly revealed as a secret disco babe extraordinaire” Lana envisioned enthusiastically as she stretched her arms out like a brainstorming Broadway director.

“Never ever will you see me part of that music circus I’d rather jump off a cliff! You pass that crap around and I’ll have you Dempsey” Jo protested, forewarning the mischief-maker with a frantic finger-point and a hard jab on the shoulder.

“Easy, don’t have a fit you’re in a market now not a stage, save your energy” Lana whined, self-consciously watching the devotees of the British Reserve glaring back with contempt.

“You coming or are you going to pussyfoot out of it like you did last time?” Jo scorned. as she remembered the embarrassment of discovering what a lightweight Lana was to the Punk ritual of head-banging.

As well as the lack of disregard for anything except the music, dressing punk was a statement, thinking punk was a very fine art but an art that Lana couldn’t really get to grips with. The blonde saw Jo Crawley’s darkly-clothed posse at the nearby bus station: A rag tag bunch with bleached green and red hair with make-up that would pave the way to the foppish style of the New Romantics.

“I don’t know Jo, things have been up in the air recently- I’ll try but no promises though. Good luck, just remember to do the music before the mad shit alright?” Lana pleaded and through the make up and stern exterior, she saw Jo’s mask slipping and a warm smile beamed across her face.

“You make sure you’re not brainwashed with that disco crap, I mean it, you’ll be stuck in the land of Glitter ball with no way back” Jo called out and made a little giggle as the thought of Lana’s discomfort returned.

Lana watched her go, her punk-rock counterpart was one of the thousands of the disaffected with broken lives, the pieces they could find were gathered and freshly-moulded together, usually resulting in a band or gang, not just for the purpose of fame or notoriety but to just simply belong.

Lana was happy for Jo, she wished her emptiness and isolation would be solved as bombastically as her friend’s was. While rummaging for the top, the nervous uncertainty crept back. Lana liked a party atmosphere but hated this mad trend of show and tell dance moves, she squeezed the purchase begrudgingly in her hand before shoving it back into the back then headed for home.

A few hours later the corralled youth skittishly checked her appearance in the bathroom. Finishing off her look in bangles and long teardrop earrings she stared at her reflection and sighed. A confident woman would look at it with a mischievous smile, with steadfast faith in her sexual prowess and her desire to have fun with friends.

  Lana was no such person; as brazen as she led people to believe, it was just another mask, a mask to hide the absolute lack of control she had over her life.

  “Lana you’re not ducking out of this one so you might as well get your things together” Jessie shouted from behind the closed door, the radio was blaring to the sound of the lowly croon of Michael Jackson ‘The way to go’.

  Lana resisted the temptation to scream and rant at Jessie and her mad fixtures for Funk and Sickly ballads but it was a favor for a friend so she seethed quietly and made a sulk as she reluctantly gathered her shawl and purse and stumbled out of the bathroom.

   The cramped flat was alive with happy, chattering people; the celebration of Saturday was about to begin despite her nerves Lana was soon swept up with the feel-good vibe. With all the conflict erupting in her life it was enough to be quenched by other people’s lust for life, as it made the absence of her own that little bit more tolerable.

   The exuberant crowd made their way to the much-talked about Discord club, a chic yet modestly-furnished venue; Filled with the typical endorsements of the Disco era, flashing lights, large glitter ball even the moronic males who pitched themselves as professional dancers were all accounted for. Clattering along the concrete in their kitten heels and shiny platform shoes, Lana and her group of close friends and distant acquaintances joined the queue.

 Once passed the boisterous bouncers they headed towards the epicenter of the mayhem, the centerpiece of this mad production of light and music lay in front of them. The parquet stretched out invitingly like a candle to the hypnotized moth. The group made a disorganized dash for the nearest available seat, those who were last had to go around hustling for an abandoned stool or chair.

  Lana managed to squeeze in with Jessie as they both secured a seat despite clambering for it like temperamental children; they looked at each other and giggled at the nostalgia of it, the laughter made her relax a little, she didn’t feel self-conscious it comforted her when she realized that most of the group must have felt the same way.

 Those initial nerves soon eased off once the drink flowed; Lana made her best attempt yet to acquaint herself with the rest of the group. After some infuriating moments spent on shouting and repeating themselves, they decide to call it quits. Realizing that it would be more fun to get to know each other while dancing, Lana wasn’t keen but knew she was obligated to Jessie to make an effort.

  She started to jive and try to keep in rhythm with Kool & the Gang’s ‘Get down on it’ she was relieved as it was just the right song for a non-disco fanatic to start off with- understated and simple.

 Not the usually blitzed sound of funk fused with one paltry keyboard note, no matter how cynical she was about the fever of disco, she couldn’t ignore it’s entertainment factor, especially when the wannabes walked onto the dance floor.

  “Hey Lana, fancy a twirl about with me? Remind the rest of them they're not in Come Dancing” Nathaniel called out, a mischievous twinkle shining shamelessly in his eyes.

  “Why not…? They're all looking a bit too serious aren't they? After you....” Lana teased while Nathan took her hand and pulled her towards his cramped dancing space.

  There they both relished in making nuisances of themselves by exaggerating each dance move. After much giggling they decided let the inner child rest and started to dance more seriously yet still managing to stifle the odd smile, the night wore on; disco track after disco track was played, much to Lana’s annoyance.

 ‘Whatever happened to variety being the spice of life’ She thought.

  Lana wondered if the world had really forgiven Paul for leaving the Beatles. she hadn’t heard one single song, not even during the odd venture the DJ took away from his music schedule.

 Perhaps in an odd way it hurt too much to play them, memories of happier times of the past made all the more painful by the chaos of the present. When it was Sex, drugs, Rock n’ Roll. These days it was Sex, Violence, hard drugs, political upheaval…and Rock N’ Roll.

     The group took it in turns to fill the emptying dance floor the novelty of the Saturday party scene was fading away. People wisely chose the safety of being drunk sitting down rather than drunk and standing up while trying to dance with the risk of throwing their dignity to the wind.

 There were the few that dared to only to regret the decision minutes later after throwing up or smashing a few glasses, heralding bemused looks on the faces of everyone around them.

 Lana was glad of the fact that she never found herself in that predicament. She fell flat on her face a few times but managed to keep her dignity with humor, when all else failed humor was the trait that usually saved the day.

 “Jessie I won’t be long. I’m just going to get some air” Lana whispered in her friend’s ear.

 Jessie responded by tugging at her arm Lana managed to trace a strained look of concern under Jessie’s immaculately curled auburn hair. Lana dismissed it by rolling her eyes and shrugging with that she stumbled out of the circle of friends and made her way to the foyer. Squeezing through the crowd she was suddenly spun around by a hand that clenched onto hers and pulled her out of the hubbub.

  “Thought I recognized you, the graveyard girl” A voice exclaimed, .feeling slightly shocked and disorientated Lana fought off the fatigue, she faced the elusive Tobin, only this time in the full glare of the trick lights, dressed in black trousers and a ruffle-sleeved shirt.

 “My name is Lana, graveyard girl sounds like an extra on The Munsters, I didn't expect to see you again, here in a place like this, all busy and out in the open” Lana replied nervously, thinking if it was a good idea to go outside alone.

   “Some of my friends say I’m behind the times, so I’ve come here to see what the big deal is” Tobin explained, a crooked smile crept across his pallid face, hiding a joke that would become clear to her in a matter of days.

  “Well you’ve missed most of it, it’s not my scene but it’s fun if you’re into it” Lana babbled nervously, she stared at the floor and started to back off.

 “Don’t suppose you wish to dance, I didn’t plan to be here alone but it looks like I might have been jilted” The mystery man continued, a growl once again resonating in his voice.

   “Sorry, no…but I’m sure there are plenty of women who would, I’m all danced out I’m afraid” Lana sighed apologetically; she stepped more confidently away from him and started for the exit.

  “Well I’m sorry…But I can’t allow a pretty petsl such as yourself to leave me stranded without as much as a dance” Tobin protested then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him.

Astounded by his arrogance Lana tried to wriggle out of the deadlock. He twirled her around twice, so many emotions were rushing through her, she couldn’t decide what she felt the most. The young woman was fearful of him yet curious by the level of his joie de vive, her insatiable curiosity was once again the reason why she felt compelled to stay.

  The rest of the night became a bit of a blur to Lana, she was aware of her surroundings, voices were muffled but she could still hear them. The same went for the strange song the wonderfully absurd ‘Play that funky music’ by wild cherry, it lightened the mood but not for long.

  An odd rhapsody was unfolding that Lana could not explain it for there was no why and Ithere was no how. It was something and she tried desperately to unravel what it was, the question did not arise out of fear. It was not to gain the upper hand and it was merely there to quench her curiosity, whatever qualms she had about the mysterious stranger disappeared.

  Her instinct to be wary of danger was somehow quashed by the insatiable need, a dangerous dare to live and let live. Even when the pair stumbled into a cold bed-sit and started to discard the other’s clothes she felt no fear or shame as she kissed him. Passionately kissing someone she barely knew would have made Lana blush or secretly wonder a few years ago but 1976 was a time where not much love was going about.

  People would reach for comfort and sympathy wherever that could get it even if that meant taking the occasional route of a one-night stand, the political student with a broken heart was no exception. Lana was patient to all her lovers despite few of them falling under the trap of re-bound, she made sure that the truth was hidden with all the consideration she could muster. She was a selfish lover on occasion but why would that be frowned on when the whole world was a selfish place anyway? With sweat dripping down her shoulders she faced Tobin.

   “You’re quite forthright aren’t you? You want what you want Are an entirely different breed” She panted, tucking a sweat-sodden hair strand under her ears.

  “Ah a susceptible mortal, how quaint” He whispered to Lana looked at him quizzically before she could say anything he silenced her with a kiss and pulled her under him.

  Amidst the hazy mirth of love-making, Lana felt a tingling at the nape of her neck, at first she thought it was an itch but gradually it became stronger. She was about to sit up when without warning, Tobin lunged at her jugular, a moment of searing pain coursed throughout Lana’s body but it was gone before she let out a whimper, feeling a warm trickle of what she thought was a sweat stream trickle along her shoulder she fell into a daze.

   Tobin wiped it away with his tongue and followed it back to it’s source, taking a few moments to look at his victim; she was indeed a beautiful creature: Clear pale skin tainted only by the sweat and the thick line of blood oozing from his mark. Lover turned to Predator, food for thought to food source but the kind no human ever knew.

  No human that was alive anyway

    When Lana came to she found herself lying on her stomach, a cool breeze from an open window danced across her bare skin. An overwhelming headache greeted her as she dizzily crept out of the bed. Looking around the dank room it was plain to see it was barely lived in, buckling against the sink she gazed up at the mirror. A look of total disappointment leered back at her.

  “Do you know what you are? A stupid, impulsive hussy- That’s what you are” She croaked as she slapped and scrubbed her face with as much ice cold water as she could.

 Replacing her bra and trousers she started to smooth her hair with her wet hands. Something caught her eye and with bungling nerves she swept away the matted strand of hair that covered Tobin’s mark.

  “What the fuck… love bites? That’s so damn kitsch” Lana groaned and bashed her head on the mirror and started to imagine the lothario’s background, wondering if he was one of those reckless youths Maggie Thatcher was so damn worried about, Lana soon dismissed the notion with a shake of the head and a grin

  No he was a man alright, a man who grew up quite a while ago” Lana sighed, the thought made her laugh but his abrupt leaving was still an obnoxious thing to do.

 She grumbled her vexation to the early morning; the shade of milky blue slowly diluting the night sky, the dawn was coming. Shivering from the lack of sleep Lana quickly checked her bearings and made her way through unfamiliar streets trying to find her way back home.

  Anxiously looking around like a lost child, she eventually clasped sight of St Matthew’s steeple, relieved she rushed along narrow streets until she began to recognize what was around her.

  “Why have gates in parks, what are people going to steal, acorns? Or they vandalize a small bench? Ooh what a crime” She groaned as she stomped over to the wall and wondered about the miscellaneous park keeper.

  She looked over the iron fence and touched the top staple- It stung, cupping the injured finger into her hands; it wasn’t bleeding, it wasn’t scratched yet there was an odd skirmish as the tip like a burn.

 Puzzled, she checked the fence’s joints looking for a jag or a crook that she didn’t notice before, there was none to find as all she could see was the splotches from the faded black gloss and the odd freckle of rust. Slightly bewildered she shortened her pace and started to climb the wall, with many pauses and unsteady footing in-between.

  The forlorn party girl dropped into the graveyard and fell onto the grass, ripping out the shards with frustration she stumbled to her feet. The sky was turning brighter, it was not yet sunrise but it’s arrival was at hand, instead of feeling rejuvenated by the coming day of rest she felt weakened.

 Lana's mind fell into the same incoherence that swayed her the night before but some how she realized it was a lot more serious. Feeling sick and unbalanced she leaned against a gravestone, as her hand clutched the smooth stone mound she heard a strange sizzling noise, wincing loudly she pulled her hand away to reveal a swollen reddish mound of ugly, scorched flesh.

“G- What’s happening to me?” Lana garbled, unnerved by the fact she could not utter the Lord’s name.

 She silently pleaded again. A plea that resulted in Lana spitting out blood; terrified she wiped away the blood with a shaking hand before doubling over in the most dreadful pain she had ever felt.

  Leaning against the door of the rectory, the terrified student pulled herself away and howled at the long ripple similar to that of a third degree burn that stretched from her elbow to her wrist. Lana tried in vain to call out to Father Emery to try to pound and kick at the door but there was no energy left in her. Falling to her knees in the full glare of the rising sun that peeked across the horizon, she noticed thin smoke that appeared from nowhere, the incredible soreness that covered the soles of her feet was also coming to attention.

  With a bloodied mouth she started to let out a gurgled scream as she finally realized the smoke was coming from her. Frantically clapping her hands over her body to find the reason Lana squinted as the sun’s sharp prickles started to sting her cheek then gradually all over her face. Still screaming as loud as she could she decided to crawl into a ball, death was coming for her she didn't know how or why but it was coming.

    A tall figure clambered to the top of the wall and made an extraordinary jump onto the 10ft pagoda, covered from head to toe in a heavy brown cloak, the figure looked down at the distressed woman. Making one last tug at the hood that protected his face he rushed over to the stricken woman. Lana didn’t notice him as her hands were shielding her eyes from the sun's lethal rays.

  Through the tiny cracks of her closed and badly burned fingers Lana gazed at the ground until a dark shadow hindered her sight a robust arm draped around her waist and swept her up within the safety of the cloak. Lana thought she was being helped up to her feet that perhaps Father MacGregor had heard her desperate cries for help.

 The strange thing was she couldn’t feel the ground, she was on a surface then she felt air again, a surface and then air. Lana was too weak to muddle through what was possible and what was not, all she knew what that she was grateful to the one who helped her…A person that she would come to discover had effectively saved her life. On nestling her head against the bicep of her hero, she murmured a Thank You’ and slipped into unconsciousness.

   The figure jumped and ran across several rooftops and narrow beams, stopping only to secure his grip on the damsel he saved. Grunting as he pushed his physique to the very limit as another cloaked character of a smaller stature followed closely behind.

  Lana woke up huddled on a wooden stairwell, she found herself being comforted in the caress of the one who saved her. Thoughts that she wished were part of a nightmare drifted back into memory, the wounds were still fresh and she shuddered with shock and started to wince as the pain came back.

   “…It’s okay shush, you’re safe now you can rest awhile, this ground has been desecrated for years. The building is nothing more than an old town hall now” A voice whispered and stroked Lana’s head as he tried to explain her bewildering predicament.

  Lana tried to move back so she could place the face to the soft Hispanic accent that soothed her anxiety like a lullaby, she collapsed back into the stranger’s arm; she couldn’t even muster the strength to avoid embarrassment. Weakly uttering the questions of who he was and how did he find her.

   “Easy, stay still, sudden movements will only make it hurt more. My Name is Raul, this boy here is Alexei, we won’t hurt you” Lana’s chivalrous knight firmly replied, Lana blinked several times before managing to focus on the image of young curly-haired boy, his face showed anxious concern as he switched his green eyes from Lana to Raul and back again.

  “Shouldn’t we be moving on? We’ve been here for hours, it’s nearing midday, there won’t be much shadow left” Alexei suggested, nervously looking down at the floor where the sunlight was fighting the shade…and winning.

   “We’ll move down to the lower level when we have to, stop looking at it Lex, you’ll only make yourself feel worse” Raul answered gruffly and looked around the derelict clock tower, the dusty air shone in a bright yellow glow as Raul’s unstoppable adversary slowly closed in on him.

  Alexei quietly whined to himself and crouched in the decreasing gloom as his hair fell upon his crossed legs as he bowed his head - he had the traits of any other eleven year old boy: Inquisitive, impressionable and eager for adventure. It was his inquisitiveness that made him follow Tobin despite fearing him. It was his thoughtfulness that led him to decide to watch over the helpless victim thereby alerting his superior for help and assisting with saving the girl’s life.

  But he was not like other boys, boys grew into men. Alexei’s eagerness for adventure led him away from his parents during a love-in and into the path of a lanky stranger, a presence he had been stuck with for almost a decade.

   “You're lucky to be alive, as little sense as it makes I think you already know that. Tobin beds anyone he's determined to have. There have been others, all turned to dust once the sun is up. He just leaves them there every time, worst excuse for a Vamp-“He whispered, starting to gather confidence as he felt so much anger for his fellow clansman only for his stance to be cut short.

  “Alexei now is not the time” Raul growled, glaring at hapless child with contempt, Alexei cowered in silence and shrunk further into the darkness. Lana reached out to him breathing heavily she made the faintest smile at him.

  “What happened to me, ...what happened please…Please” Lana croaked, taking a pause with each sentence that passed through her chapped lips.

 Alexei looked at her with sadness although it didn’t last long and the burning rage for Tobin returned once he looked over the girl’s wounds: Her skin was marred by the conflicting colours of red and purple, made by the blemishes of burnt, dead skin that partially covered her face. Alexei’s heart went out to her as he looked at her damaged eyelid, realizing she was trying to open it.

  “They will heal you know, that’s the best thing about being us in a couple of days you won’t find a single mark- Promise” Alexei replied softly.

 The boy was not afraid, living as an immortal showed how wide the concept of nightmares could be. The kicks could never measure up against the sheer anarchy of being a vampire, conscience was never a question brought up much – It was kill or be killed - Sometimes problems would arise to disrupt a pretty straight-forward way of surviving, this time it came in the form of Lana Dempsey but neither Vampire knew it…yet.

   “Someone has to stop this, he can’t keep doing this, he just can’t” Alexei said furiously, shaking his head as the hatred for Tristan and simple restlessness took hold.

   “I will deal with him in my own time Alexei, I will ask you to leave well enough alone you hear me? You keep away” Warned Raul as he grabbed the edge of Alexei’s cloak and pulled him in Alexei pulled back.

 The force ripped the shroud away and Alexei fell to the floor, missing the ray of light by inches shocked and frightened he slowly crawled back to the dark and looked up at Raul with enraged eyes.

   “We feed off the living just to survive, some would call that monstrous but the only monster I’ve ever seen is the bastard that turned me, he left her there to die, if she didn’t wake up when she did there would have been nothing left of her!” Alexei yelled, hurt and frustrated by the fact there wasn’t anything he could do against his foe.

  Raul was ashamed of himself as a leader of twelve he had made some bad choices for he had lived in the world of the undead for thirty-eight years, a life that began when he was caught in the violent throes of the Spanish civil war. Tired and weary he sheltered in a near-by barn when he came across a young French woman.

 Looking back he should have guessed something about her was amiss as her clothes were clean as well as being extraordinarily calm despite rioting going on in every corner the stranger's name was Adele - she was attractive, she was intelligent…She was also a vampire.

 Together they built up a shaky, tempestuous relationship spanning fourteen years, they were never equals. She was the temptress and he was the fool, no matter how much power and presence he gained over the years. It was one obstacle he could not overcome.

   “Forgive me Lex; I didn’t mean to be so harsh, you’re right Tobin is reckless but I will deal with it. The council will not be pleased by this, that’s certain enough” Raul sighed, patting the boy’s head and invited Alexei to sit beside him.

  Alexei reluctantly obliged leaning against his superior’s knee as the lack of sleep and good rest were beginning to take their toll.

  Raul looked down at the girl then stared menacingly at sky outside, scowling at the daylight as it kept them prisoner in the cramped clock tower having no choice but to stay put until the night released them. Raul nestled his head against Lana’s and continued to stroke her troubled brow.

 “Whatever happens, you will come to no harm I will help anyway I can, you must trust me- What is your name?” He whispered softly, as he gazed helplessly at the semi-conscious woman that lay in his arms.

   “L- Lana My name is Lana Dempsey” Lana replied weakly, burbling slightly as phlegm and saliva gathered in her mouth.

 “Lana, pleased to meet you, bet you wished you stayed home yesterday?” Raul inappropriately joked, attempting to create some much needed comic relief, it failed miserably but he was glad he tried.

  Eventually an evening chill wafted into the building as Alexei was the first to emerge into the night air he was barely able to contain his relief. Sashaying over tiled rooftops and over stone arches he tip-toed along a narrow balcony and waited for Raul. Raul gently helped his ward up to her feet and stumbled over to the narrow window.

  “Lana I know you’re tired and I know it hurts but you have to stay awake, just until we reach my home anyway” Raul pleaded, taking his cloak off he wrapped it around the invalid and precariously made his way to Alexei’s position with Lana trying to keep in step as much as she could.

  The three of them bounded and skipped across the city skyline until they reached the suburban wasteland of derelict properties and unkempt greens, the street was eerily quiet with abandoned battered and charred cars strewn along the desolate neighborhood.

  Walking slowly along the broken pavement, Alexei bowed under Lana’s arm and took some of the burden away from his elder. Much to Raul’s relief, you needed to have immaculate skill to free run over dangerous heights, distractions were costly and there was never any room for error.

  “Lana, I’d like to welcome you to the real heartbreak hotel” Alexei exclaimed, Lana looked up at the dilapidated building that stood before her.

 At thirty feet high it looked like an old office block that probably dated from the-turn-of the century: windows were boarded up with rickety shutters and pieces of beech wood, some of it was rotting, some of it looked recently cut. The trio clambered up the cracked concrete entrance and walked cautiously into the hallway.

 Lana was astounded to find that it wasn’t an office at all but an old boarding house, the reception area was tidy despite no longer being of any use. A pigeon-holed cabinet hung solemnly on the wall, most of the holes lay empty with the exception of the first level.

 Seven keys lay undisturbed alongside some pouches and trinkets that Lana had never seen before. A moderate staircase with odd brass fittings led up to the second floor Lana hobbled over to the leather chair and sank into the cushion, although still feeling quite stiff she began to relax.

  The comfort was short-lived as a rumble of footsteps came charging out of nowhere and Raul’s whole troupe of vampires revealed themselves to Lana. The group who barged and bounced off one another against the narrow stairwell stopped dead in their tracks as soon as they spied the newcomer.

  “Collecting strays are we Raul? Oh well, a meal is a meal” A voice chortled; from so many faces staring at her Lana could not see where it was coming from. But once she heard the sadistic proposal she sat bolt upright, Lana's eyes transfixed on the noisy group.

  “You listen here, I am nobody’s meal ticket and you can make a bloody good try but you won’t be having any of me. Not a single fucking drop!” Lana yelled, clenching her hands over the brown leather to fight her nerves, the group stared at her with glistening eyes; a sneer appeared on one face then on all of them.

   “Very nicely put, I like a girl with a bit of spunk makes the hunt that little bit more interesting” A female voice replied, a young woman with smooth chocolate coloured skin emerged from the flock of young vampires and leaned over the antique staircase. Her light brown eyes flickered between curiosity and menace, a wild burst of chestnut-brown hair in an all-out afro danced in the draft of the open door.

  “Easy does it girls; Tash calm yourself down; this is Lana- our newest member of the circle, don’t be lazy you are skilled enough to hunt for yourself. Now try to be nice to our guest Hmm?” Raul explained, as she casually stepped in between Lana and the gang, spreading his arms to protect her.

  Despite the stance, the girl tightened her posture. With a snarl she stretched a leg over the banister; it was the first time Lana had caught sight of bright, sharp fangs. Her eyes widened as she tried to make sense of the completely senseless.  For she was witnessing the work of fiction that was now fact, vampires really did exist all the fear that was inspired by them, all the forbidden folktales; all of it...was true.

 Gasping Lana fingered the mark which was still pulsing on her neck, she started to whimper and fiercely shook her head violently, such a truth was impossible to comprehend.

  All the children who locked their windows at night, feeling stupid for taking a crucifix, just to ease their anxiety, just to feel safe while parents would dismiss it as a phase, what would the world be like if it knew that the phantom was real?

 “This can’t be happening, it’s not real none of it” Lana cried, bowing her head.

 It was at this moment that the girl decided to strike Lana felt a breeze on her hair and looked up just as the girl vampire jumped into the air towards her. Lana screamed and curled up into a ball, she had cheated death once and if it was so keen to have her she did not have the power to deny it twice.

  Lana waited to be lynched but nothing happened, she slowly moved her arms from her face to see Alexei standing beside her. Shaking, she stared up at Raul who had the girl vampire by the wrist as she hung in mid-air.

   “Have you lost your hearing Tash? I will not have any more upheaval in the group. You better watch yourself kid or she will be pouncing on you if you’re not careful” Raul hissed as he tightened his grip on the eternal teenager, aware that her bloodlust was still struggling to be satisfied.

  “Look at her and tell me what you see…Do you see a victim that is pale and barely alive? Maybe I plucked her from a burning house while on my way home, what do you think?” Raul growled as he firmly gripped the girl’s throat and forced her to look at the supposed ‘victim’ after a few silent glances Tash’s eyes returned to normal.

   “I’d say she was almost smoked, what was she trying to do- See if she could still sunbathe?” Tash replied, with that Raul let go and Tash swooped gracefully to the ground. She looked back at the gang; some made faded smiles and nervous giggles: All stood to attention once Raul re-established his authority.

   “She didn’t know she had been turned in the first place, I found her burning alive in a churchyard” Raul explained as he perched himself on one arm of the chair, Alexei leaning against the other with Lana cowering in the middle.

  “That would explain the scorch marks, man I’ve never seen anything that bad, who found her” Tash continued warily, trying to hide her disgust at Lana’s horrendous injuries. Lana clasped her hands together nervously as a silent gesture of support Raul reached for her arm and gently stroked it.

   “I did, good thing too. I doubt she would have lasted…” Alexei aired proudly, salvaging what he could from a tactless remark looking at Raul, it was to no surprise that another scowl crept menacingly on his face.

  “Ah little Lex trying to be a hero are you? That’s nice, a little pointless but nice” Tash teased as she walked to the foot of the staircase and leapt up on the smooth mahogany counter.

  “Well it makes a change to do things a little differently sometimes Tashelle. I’m going to teach Tobin a lesson one day…even if it kills me” Alexei stammered, knowing that one day it probably would.

  Tash stretched over to check her knick-knacks, people could have called her possessions worthless but to her there were as precious as any jewelry: trinkets that held the memory of home in Kingston, Jamaica.

 Dried leaves and varied incense of exotic flowers, it came to light that It was the only way for a vampire to rest, to temporarily calm the demon inside them after retrieving two incense sticks she placed the pouch back into it’s crook.

  “If I know Tobin, it probably will…So you’re our new girl then, why would you be here otherwise?” Tash inquired ruthlessly.

  “Turned? Yes, his girl? Never!” Lana retorted, gnashing her teeth, furious at being subjected to such spite and not being able to challenge it.

  “Enough, I don’t want to hear anymore, Alexei try to find a room for Lana. Keep away from damp areas she’s been through enough already – we all have” Raul ordered.

 Lana cautiously stood up and slowly followed the boy up the stairs and through the small barrage of onlookers. Be they guests or residents of this ramshackle hub made no difference in easing the newcomer's anxiety. A tense silence filtered the air and the atmosphere was almost too much for Lana to bear as she reluctantly walked up the creaky steps.

   “What of Casimir, what would he make of all this?” Tash whispered.

  The Jamaican at first glance appeared to be no older than Lana herself, yet the trick of the eyes disguised a soul of ninety-seven years and brought wise counsel to Raul whenever he needed it.  The threat went silently, neither of them needed to detail the consequence of going against an elder, especiallyone that was discreetly deft in sociopathy.

  A cold and malicious superior to all of the Greater London and East Anglia Shadow Clans there wasn’t much a vampire feared but after facing the likes of Casimir, the ordeal always changed their minds.

  “ I'd expect a firestorm of some sort in the distant future of course - providing my protégés think well before they speak-to absolutely anyone” Raul announced sarcastically as he looked at every face of the group.

 Each of them held the same daunting anxiety, once he finished Raul swaggered into the grimy yet oddly majestic drawing room and eased into an armchair.  

  Staring blankly into the dimming fire, a scarce source of the element they hated but needed, he clasped his large hands together and quietly muddled over his troubles. The bewildered clique were left to talk amongst themselves.

  Tash looked on nervously as her chieftain meditated, taking his fortitude as a bad sign yet she did not express her concern. Instead she wandered quietly to her room clutching at her incense sticks. Small shreds of peace vampires were allowed to scavange through.

  “Here we are, it’s not as bad as it looks, you’ll get used to the lack of light after a while: We have some oil lanterns if you want one it’s just a mattress to sleep on I’m afraid there are not many beds that we can use, Rotting and rusty and tentanus-inducing I'm sure” Alexei explained as he cringed over all the bad things that made the boarding house such a bad idea. The boy dashed about the dank room, fetching a rustic oil lamp and tidying up as much as he could.

  Lana felt slightly intimidated at being surrounded by the gloom, like a stranger is a very distant land nothing reminded her of the world of 1976; punk rock, Starsky and Hutch or watching Top of The Pops while sitting on banal furniture. Everything was frozen in time.

   “When London was taken out by the Blitz of '41 this area was heavily bombed and a great fire destroyed half the neighborhood including this fine hub. The roof didn’t collapse but the place was classed unsafe, so when the humans moved out, we moved in” Alexei explained, marvelling at the decrepit residence that had safely sheltered him for the past eight years.

  “It was Roan who found this place, he’s a bit of a brute, an immortal wideboy who likes to spread his weight about” Alexei continued, Lana was finally lulled into a calm by the boy's presence.

 She couldn't decide if it was wonder or just pride that stopped the hysteria completely. For if a boy no older than twelve could be brave then perhaps LANs could too.

  “Who is Roan…has it got colder all of a sudden?” Lana shivered, e

exhaling violently as she started to rub at her shoulders.

  “I'm hoping you won't find out any sooner than you need to, he's Adele's mate now and both are bad news. Try to avoid them” Alexei answered before disappearing into the dark corridor.

  Lana stumbled into the room and crouched on the mattress, which was surprisingly springy and soft. Alexei returned with two or three blankets, they were warm and they were clean. He then proceeded to wrap each of them around her.

  “ The body temperature of a human being is 37 degrees right? Well when you are turned, the blood flow gradually decreases bringing it down eight sometimes even ten below” Alexei said as he patted and checked every uncovered area.

   “How is that possible? That would be like contracting the Flu every day?” Lana stammered as she gripped at the blankets’ corners and pulled them up against her cheek, the softness of the blue cotton was very calming.

  “To a human yes but you're not human anymore or that is, you soon won't be human, demons supposedly come from a very cold parallel plain. You will fight it and it will fight you but there's no ignoring what you are now" Alexei declared in a manner that surpassed his child image and exposed the frustrated spirit of a grown man that could not be freed from his immortal coil.

   “Demons, I don’t understand?” Lana spluttered nervously, her heart sank as she watched the boy making a strained pause over what to do next.

   “I've said too much already, I'll get into trouble if I don't stop now. This of the vampire as an illness or a plague but instead of making you weaker and killing you it makes you strong, so strong and gifting you with lots of things...There is no cure though” Alexei whispered as he knelt beside her.

  He was dismayed at the fear that flourished in Lana’s eyes, nearly a decade ago he himself was petrified at such talk.

  “How do you know so much? Isn’t there a way of stopping it?” Lana pleaded as images and memories of stories and nightmarish ghouls came back only this time with more ferocity.

   “…In time, everything will come in time, all these questions have answers that won't make you feel any better than you do now” Alexei sighed and sulkily walked out the room.

   As he turned the corner he met his glum-faced guardian, his figure cloaked in the flickering light of the hall’s Candelabras. The Spaniard's hazel eyes were weary and sad, his thick mane of black hair swept to the left temple of his forehead.

   “That was well done, I’m proud of you, I’m very proud” Raul whispered while folding his arms he leaned against the wall and nodded approvingly.

   “It should have been you, you're the chieftain, I don't remember much but I remember being scared." The boy sulked quietly.

  Looking at his battered wrist watch the boy grumbled to himself as it was only 10.45. A time where he would just be skulking around in the city centre would now be spent catching up on the sleep he lost when he was stuck in the church tower.

   Raul watched Alexei slip into his room, once the door was shut he edged closer to Lana’s new abode about to ask a question he was suddenly lost for words when the sound of muffled crying came to his attention.

  He slithered to the floor and pushed his back against the wall. He tried again to voice the question but nothing came out, realizing there was nothing he could say to comfort her. So he decided to just sit and listen quietly, like a watchman ready to help whenever and wherever he could.

  The late hours of the night faded into the early hours of the morning and an anxious Tashelle crept into the hallway. The exhilaration of a hunt did little to distract the uncertainty that was now playing out for her Clan and she didn't like it. Did the factions accept new blood, on occasion yes but she felt this was different. She felt that something was changing, something was in the air and she didn't like it.

   The West-Indian did not want to accept that Lana’s weakness might be the match to light the tinder box. She peeked in as the guest with the forced invite dozed soundly in a tight foetus position, her arms hugging at her body.

 It was a pose showing loneliness and perhaps some unconscious sense of abandonment. The scene did not render with Tash for it was normal for a vampire to feel such heavy negativity it was the truth after all.   Suddenly Lana’s body jolted and she was wide awake she quickly sat up from where she lay and pushed herself as far from the intruder as possible.

 “Take it easy, I wasn’t doing anything – Just came to check on you, glad to see your adapting so well” Tash exhaled as Lana sudden movement made her jump, astounded how much progress the girl was making.

 “I wasn’t sleeping, the stairs creaked, i was worried i'd be somebody's midnight snack” Lana yawned, still nervous by Tash’s unexpected presence she watched the girl carefully.

 “Liar, you didn’t hear me, you have powerful instincts now, it was the demon inside that woke you up” Tash exclaimed coyly.

Lana momentarily closed her eyes as she remembered the headache-inducing lesson of what it meant to be a vampire: Enhanced strength and agility – Good - demon that inhabits your mind, body and soul – Depressingly bad.

 "I'm a little too old for bedtime stories or Brothers Grimm-type tales. Thanks anyway. Lana groaned sarcastically as she pulled herself up off the floor.

 “Defiance, that’s good you’ll need all of that fighting talk if you want to survive this” Tash replied cheerily taking no offence with the jibe, she was relieved by the fact that she had finally unearthed the rookie’s steely spirit.

 “I think it's too late at night to be a doomsayer don't you think?” Lana grumbled, she was still shivering from the cold but it had calmed at little during the few hours of a troubled sleep.

 “But it’s all part of the game, don't you know? Every member of a Shadow clan has a ypart to play and the need to think of your faction first and always.The few things we keep for ourselves we keep very well and very privately.” Tash whispered, nervously squeezing the bag of dried flowers and bay leaves.

 “Sounds like the rules of a gentlemen's club a hundred years behind the times. What is all this?" Lana quizzed curiously as she gazed at the bag and it’s oddly-coloured contents.

 "These? these are my tools. You put them around any place of rest you choose to help you sleep” Tash shrugged, then shyly showed off the incense sticks before shoving them into her coat pocket.

 “I take it you’ve never heard of camomile tea, is hot milk not the standard anymore…?” Lana said, almost giggling at the absurdity, which Tash scowled at with disdain.

 “Sleep is peace, as you’re probably aware peace is promoted by the man upstairs once he turned his back on us all bets were off, so we take whatever we can” Tash declared boisterously as she pointed a finger towards the ceiling.

   Lana frowned at the lack of respect but with things the way they were none of it was surprising after dealing with the sun’s treachery she had to come to terms with a religious background that no longer held any meaning. She dared herself to make one last attempt at a prayer, her effort came to nothing but another dizzy spell closely followed by blood at the mouth. Groaning, the novice wiped the trickle away and bowed her head in shame.

 “Ooh, trying to pray are we? You did not find this morning proof that He is no longer listening or that He even wants to?” Tash teased, Lana started to cry as the battle between denial and acceptance raged on her mind.

 Tash shook her head ashamed with herself, unwelcome or not a guest was a guest and Raul would frown upon the witch's miserable skills as a hostess. Kneeling down she softly squeezed Lana’s hand.

 "Incense helps but it doesn't always work, My Jamaica is a place of for the senses, salty air or spices from Kingstown Market. Some of us are lucky enough to keep memories from keeping photographs that are decades old, others use fabrics that connect them with home. We are more than coffins and crucifixes Lana” Tash persisted only this time more sympathetically.

 "All I have right now are the clothes on my back, I have nothing” Lana sobbed as another level of pain entered into her conscience, remarkably she had only realized it then – The pain of loss – Knowing there was a good chance she would never be able to gaze upon her family ever again.

 “Surely there must be something you can think of… your mother’s perfume perhaps?” Tash replied while redeeming her previous display of spite and selfishness with genuine encouragement.

 Lana wandered off into deep thought and it was a bittersweet task to accomplish, it was sad yet strangely comforting to the point where she was able to smile.

  “…In my home my mother has this habit of making jam right before a summer fete, the smell would waft about the house for days.” Lana sighed as she slowly opened her eyes wishing more than anything that she was back there.

 “Honey would have to do, perhaps summers flowers could ease you as well?" Tash mused proudly.

 “You sound like some haggler, how can you do homeopathy when you are all the night can give you?” Lana grinned; the life of a vampire was far beyond the pale, she just couldn’t believe how colourful it really was.

 “We are many, there's more of us in the world than you're ready for but we all need money. There are thousands of ways to make it, even a vampire has some right to” Tash said rather matter-of-factly.

  “A vampire that sells Wicca spells for cash, that is probably the oddest thing I’ve heard all day” Lana chortled, her wariness of the girl vampire was slowly disappearing Lana dropped her guard and carried on with the girly chit-chat.

 “Well this isn’t the twilight zone but it’s closest you’ll get to it, I’d best be off to bed now so see you in the evening.” Tash said softly and walked into the room opposite.

  With a more clarified mind Lana took her time in learning her new surroundings, the hall was dimly-lit and a simple border of dark plywood cut through the middle of the wall, the few remaining inches of wallpaper lay claim to the 1930’s – Very practical but very drab - Brass torch lights were erected beside every room, some were cracked some held fragile candles where the bulbs once stood.

 Before toddling down the stairs she squinted at the grand old-fashioned clock that was gathering dust, whatever momentum it had as a proud possession was long gone, the time stood at five minutes to five. The bedraggled guest looked down at the dark and undeterred by it’s menace she took the lantern and boldly plodded down the stairs. Turning into the drawing room she was caught off guard by the scene of several lanterns dotted about the room, each disguising figures that Lana did not recognize.

  “Miss Dempsey I’m surprised to see you up, I’m just having a talk with my associates, This is Jaden, Rhys, Belle, Lynette and Luca” Raul pronounced humbly as he introduced each stranger with a confident flair.

 Lana tried to look friendly and take as much grace for the introduction as she could but she felt too intimidated to linger any longer so she started to backtrack towards the stairs.

 “No, please it’s alright stay if you wish to, I'm glad and yet startled over your quick recovery” Raul pleaded and reached an inviting hand towards Lana and indicated to the empty chairs that stood at the corner of the room.

 Lana bashfully stayed where she was, feeling guilty at not obliging her host, she kept looking at the new delegates they seemed friendly enough but there was something in their expression that unnerved her.

 “You’re busy, you have guests I don’t want to intrude” She denounced sheepishly, holding her breath she quickly turned around only to stop in her tracks when Raul boldly called out to her, with her heart pounding furiously against her chest she slowly turned back to him.

 “You’re my guest also, please there is no need to fear me, you have no cause to....” Raul negotiated softly.

 “I’m not afraid I just feel it's best to keep my distance for a while, no upset no fuss” Lana stammered as the palms of her hands started to perspire.

 “Not very good at lying is she? That will have to change if she wants to stick it out” Luca sneered Lana cautiously looked over at the dark-skinned, tousle-haired vampire that saw through her ill-prepared lie.

 Raul looked at his counterpart with disdain but secretly agreed with his comment, feeling slightly disappointed with Lana’s continuing mistrust he sighed and looked on with sad eyes.

 “Ah, el perfume de meido, I can sense as well as i can smell it it's best not to lie to me Lana, it really is a waste of time” Raul tried not to make it out like a demand but his presence was bold and intimidating.

 Lana was alarmed that such a natural occurrence of being afraid was undergoing such scrutiny, scrutiny that brought up the worrying question: If they could sense fear, will the rest of her emotions betray her?

   “So what do you think of my casa? I have no doubt it was fine in it's time. I believe silly realtors these days would say it would be a fixer upper” Raul explained trying desperately to diffuse the skeptical tension that engulfed him from both sides.

  “Without the fixing part, obviously - it's sad how such a place can be forgotten like this” Lana guffawed, the butterflies in her stomach were gigantic it was difficult to laugh so she just smiled.

 "Just like a poet, always has to make a statement with a touch of irony", Lynette snorted.

 Raul was relieved at Lana's honesty and the unexpected show of humor, he looked around the room and shyly nodded at the odd proposal, the place was consumed with perhaps almost every stereotype that made their species so revered: Dank living spaces, decadent furniture and time-honored trinkets of eras gone by, the building itself was one huge relic.

 “Raul I take it you're the boss man, the leader of this faction this nocturnal tribe. This, this 'shadow clan' of yours so it's only fair I tell you I'm going back to campus” Lana exclaimed as she struggled to put her disorientating confusion into words.

  “Impossible all ties must be cut for your sake as well as the people you hold dear you know why, don’t you?” Raul discouraged, feigning sympathy, then he clasped at Lana’s shoulders the faintest moment of intimacy was revealed to them Lana didn’t notice and pulled away from him. The unanticipated sensation left a lasting impression on Raul, so much so that it caught him off-guard.

 “You can’t ask me to turn my back so easily, this is my life; I’m not your protégé yet” Lana raged, she had heard superficial requests like that before, from her father when he tried to control her mother’s action before a viscous row would incur.

  “You can be in denial as much as you like but the fact is the life out there is over, the sun may have tanned your flesh before but it will burn you into ash now; do you really need to be reminded of that?” Raul retorted, getting increasingly agitated as his fellow vampires were intrigued by what was unfolding before them, an amusing story for Roan and the rest of the council no doubt.

 “I can look after myself, as impossible as this is, I know what the risks are” Lana counteracted boastfully. It was a good bluff as she was feeling the total opposite inside.

 “Senorita I don’t think you do, in fact I have seen more than you know and worse than I barely remember. There’s taking risks and there’s being fool-hardy” Raul yelled, a Hispanic accent piercing high upon his rage.

  Without thinking he shook her hard Lana managed to wriggle out of his grasp and darted for the front door. She ran outside hesitating for a moment she looked back to see a remorseful Raul gazing at her, before dashing up the deserted street as Lana began the race against time to get home before Sun-up.

 “Damn Raul, you just don't do subtlety well do you?” Luca gibed as he watched the girl disappear around a corner. Raul fell against the outer entrance door; he rubbed his eyes wearily and rested his head against his raised arm.

 “So slow on the mark, it's a miracle you have lasted as long as you have Luca, Eighty years old with a teenager's mind, it's boring me, boy.” Lynnette scolded calmly, a woman of Celtic origin with dark auburn hair, green eyes and a refreshingly passive nature that added a calming influence to the clans.

 Raul was not comforted by the gesture, stemming from the fact that Lynette's was as changeable as an Artic ice sheet for she had befriended Adele some years before. It was only a matter of time before his toxic ex-lover would involve herself in the charade. The thought alone was enough to give him a headache, sweeping his fingers through his thick hair he groaned loudly.

 “Lex, ALEXEI!” He yelled, tilting his head upward with Spanish eyes moving towards the ceiling, Raul intensely listened out for any movement upstairs.

 After a short silence there came a few creaking floorboards then a frenzied rumbling as Alexei grudgingly raced down the stairs.

 “I need you to fetch Seb, he has work to do” Raul proclaimed grumpily, Alexei looked around in a daze then was quietly informed by his clan over what went on, the boy not happy in the slightest.

 “You just let her go, as easily as just letting her walk out, how come, what for?” Alexei moaned as he tugged at Raul’s shirt, it was the only act of frustration he could carry out – The boy was impetuous but not stupid.

 “I don't know, I was stumped by the sheer audacity - She’ll just try to get back to where she came from like any cynic I've come across” Raul surmised bluntly, looking out at the sky with the thankful royal blue shade: The night was dying but it wasn’t dead yet.

 “I wonder if she’ll make it...” Luca blasted sarcastically, Raul resisted the urge to fight for he was too exhausted. Besides even if Raul did Luca would only ruffle his feathers more about why this one girl got so quickly under his skin.

 “She’ll make it, I’m certain she will, Alexei do as I ask please” Raul commanded, Alexei took one look outside before heading for the uprooted terrace out the back.