"I'm...col...cold." Chrys managed to stutter through
chattering teeth. The chills had started suddenly, and
now it was all she could do to breath in gasps as her
body shook violently. She'd known she was going to
die, everyone did eventually. Asher had explained it to her. Her
body would die and she would rise again in three
nights.

He'd also said that the first few months her hunger
would be immense when she first woke, but that he
would be there to help her control it. She didn't
exactly like the idea of being so out of control she
might kill someone while feeding. The very thought of
feeding still made her somewhat nauseous, but she was
willing to deal with the drawbacks as long as she got
the chance to rip Reagan's throat out with her
teeth. The thought of doing that was very soothing actually.

She looked up in Asher's direction. It had been really
strange the first time he'd fallen "asleep" next to
her. She'd been afraid she was going to be forced to
spend the day with a corpse. It turned out to be only
part of the day. At around ten Reagan's flunkies had
opened the coffin and taken her out. She'd been kept
in a separate room. Well it was more a suite of
rooms. A bedroom, sitting room, and a bathroom. She'd
been left alone there for most of the day.

She was glad they hadn't left her in the coffin. Being
in one with company, who talked and laughed, and plotted
and planned was one thing. Being in one with a dead
body was a whole other.

She'd also been fed and allowed the use of the
bathroom. She hadn't even seen Reagan in all that
time, just some strange men in robes. They hadn't been
all that reassuring. Somehow she felt like she was
being prepared for some ritual, she just
wasn't sure what kind. If they intended to
offer up a virgin sacrifice to some dark lord then
well she fit the bill. Of course since Reagan wanted
her to become a vampire it made her wonder if she was
meant to be the tool used in the ritual. Maybe she was to be the raving
monster sent in to eat the virgin sacrifice? Neither
role really made her feel all warm and squishy
inside...cold and queasy were much better adjectives.



They always put her back in the coffin before nightfall though. 
This had proved to be somewhat difficult
since Asher was already awake by then. The first time
he'd almost managed to escape. Unfortunately they'd
managed to subdue him with holy paraphernalia. Well,
she assumed it was holy. It did the whole glowy white
thing, but none of it looked silver and it certainly
wasn't in the shape of a cross. Strange things were afoot
and whatever they were it was giving her a bad vibe. Not that
she was psychic...but you'd have to be an idiot not to
figure out that whatever Reagan and company had
planned it wasn't going to bode well for her and
Asher.

They'd had this conversation though and so far they
hadn't been able to come up with any viable plan. Now
it was too late, she was dying, and she'd rise and
Asher's use would be gone. She wondered vaguely if
he'd still be here when she woke, or if Reagan would
have already killed him? Maybe he was to be the
first night's entertainment. The thought didn't sit
well with her. She liked Asher, he was somewhat abrupt
and cocky, but he'd been kind to her. Besides he was
her only ally.

Asher looked down at Chrys. He hadn't said anything,
but something was wrong. He'd been feeling odd for a
while now, and their last session hadn't helped at
all, even though he had drank very deeply from her. Now it felt like
a slow fire was creeping through his veins burning him
from the inside out. It'd started out as a slow warmth
that had gradually spread. It was becoming highly
uncomfortable now. He didn't want to upset her
however, and there wasn't anything either of them
could do about it. Besides she was dying. At least she
would not die alone.

A fit of coughing broke the silence that had fallen
between them. Asher reached out a hand and steadied
her shoulders. She caught her breath and laughed
lightly...carefully. "You know I always wondered what
dying would be like...I just sorta expected it to come a
little later in life." She said as he pulled her
gently into his embrace. Normally she would have drawn
away, but if she was going to die it might as well be
in someone's arms. "What was yours like?" She asked
after another fit of coughing.

Asher was silent for a long moment. No one had asked
him that before. It could however be taken as a dying
request. He could hear Chrys' heart slowing with each
passing second, and he could smell the sweet metallic
scent of blood as she coughed. His shirt would
undoubtedly be stained from it. Of course if he was
correct he probably had no need to worry about a
stained shirt, however fine the silk. He'd be dead
before sunset tomorrow. Reagan would have no use for
him and she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. Well
perhaps she might, but only if it was to torture him
in the interim.



He pulled Chrys' head down to rest on his shoulder. "I
died in Lisette's arms." He said rather softly. Chrys
sighed closing her eyes while a slight smile played on her lips.
"Maybe it's a family tradition then." She said
relaxing as best she could, when her first instinct
was to fight with every ounce of strength in her body.
It wouldn't help though...she was dying...and nothing she
did would stop that. She was coming back so what
did it matter? Better to just relax and make her last
moments as happy as possible. A small laugh escaped
her. Happy...while trapped in a coffin and coughing up
her lungs? Ah well at least there was Asher.



Asher frowned down at the top of her head. "Perhaps,"
was all he said. She wouldn't last much longer and the
fire in his blood was threatening his control. He held
himself rigid fighting it. He had an idea of what it
might be...he'd felt something similar once upon a time. 
It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat, but he
feared he no longer had a choice.

"You're so warm" Chrys mumbled in a soft bemused
voice. She began coughing violently again and it sapped
her last bit of strength. She could feel
herself...she'd expected some kind of floating
sensation...a detachment. What she felt was more like a
great pressure that was squeezing her smaller and smaller,
forcing her out of herself and into a cold darkness
where light never reached. She was afraid, but it was
too late to scream.

Asher leaned down and placed a light kiss on her hair.
She was gone...strange last words...not something he'd
want on his tombstone, but since she would not have
one it was a rather moot point. Her body was still
warm and he could almost believe that at any second
she'd take another breath and continue speaking to
him. She wouldn't though and he knew it...she was dead,
but only for the present.

He hadn't lain there long, stroking her hair idly while
he considered what to do next, when the coffin lid was thrown back and
she was ripped rather savagely from his arms. The men
standing over him were the same ones he had seen on
every other occasion and they held their holy items
firmly, almost desperately in fact. He smiled cruelly.
One of their number was missing...he'd managed to do
increasingly more damage. He hadn't expected them just
now, though he probably should have. Reagan obviously
had reasons for wanting Chrys to be a vampire...and the
reasons appeared to be rather pressing. He could not
think of that now though, this would probably be his
last chance.

He flew out of the coffin, not even bothering to try
and fight with those who'd held him captive. He would
return for revenge later. Now it was time for a
tactical retreat. He did glance back once to see
them...not pursuing him but collecting Chrys' remains.
They were obviously more interested in keeping her
then in him. That was fine for the time being, but he
would not leave her here indefinitely. He'd return
when he had Jean-Claude and the others.

He raced up the stairs and out down the nearest hall,
then stopped. Racing around madly wouldn't lead him
from this place any faster and speed was of the
essence. He looked around trying to orient himself.
He'd never seen this hall and there were no windows...if
he could find a window then all would be well, but
Reagan's lair appeared to be mostly underground.

He stood still for a long moment. There are certain
benefits to being a vampire...a heightened awareness for
instance. Most people only think of it in regards to
alerting one of the approach of others. However it
could also be used to sense the eddies and currents in
the air...and finding a fresh one...lead one out of the
jaws of hell and back into the world above. Asher
smiled. He might now be an urban creature, but there
had been a time when he'd been at home in nature as
well, and the tricks of a hunter are never truly
forgotten.

He found what he was looking for quick enough and
began following the smell of fresh air back to its
source. The guards from behind him must not have
summoned help very quickly, because it was another
five minutes before he almost ran into the
reinforcements. He almost got caught as well, hovering
near the ceiling as he was they wouldn't have noticed
him, but the sudden surge of fire in his blood almost
made him fall.

As he stepped out onto the street a short time later
he realized it had been much too easy. He hadn't heard
any cries of `after him' or `get him' and he should
of. Which meant one of two things, either Reagan had
wanted him to escape or...well actually that was really
the only reasonable explanation. The only question was
why.









INDEXor 
To Be Continued