"Isaac," she whispered.

He turned to look at her. "Huh?"

"It's here."

Isaac frowned. "Now? At the party?"

"Yes. Now. It's coming."

Annoyed, he pulled her to the nearest room and layed her on the bed. An hour later, the two stood staring at the little wiggling bundle that lay sleeping there, wrapped in a pillow case.

"That came out of me?" Candace asked. "God, I'm tired."

"Yup," he replied. "But you won't be for long..."

"I know, I know. The plan," she said. "Stick to the plan. Got the knife?"

"Got the straws?" Isaac asked.

"I can't believe we pulled this off," she giggled, exhaustedly. "And to think I did all the work. I'm so proud of myself."

"It takes two to conceive!" Isaac exclaimed. "Besides, I'm the one who told you about this. You would never have known if it..."

"Give it up," she snorted. "I had that...that thing growing in me for three-fourths of a fucking year. And now I'm so tired. Hurry up and get it over with before I fall asleep and miss out on the fun."

"You won't miss out on a thing," he promised. "Not a thing..."

Isaac pulled his shoes on, feeling Mr. Rodgers-like. He looked in the mirror. "I'm evil," he said to himself. He grinned, one corner of his mouth coming up higher than the other. He noticed the slight stain of blood on his teeth, and licked it off with his tongue. Standing up, he walked to the door and out of it. The sound of people breathing and music pounding infiltrated his body, louder and clearer than he could ever have imagined. It was a weird feeling. Must be the sanity of it all, he thought grimly. Suddenly he burst out laughing.

He licked his lips feeling smug with himself, and walked out of the party.

"I'm covered in blood. Dammit," she muttered. She pulled off the second shirt she had on and wrapped it around her waist, hoping to conceal the blood that it was soaked in. She then stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She smiled sweetly, and then pouted. It was no use.

She walked out the door and into the dizzyingly red darkness that seemed to permeate everyone but her. She felt bright; clear; sparkling. She felt like a crystal hanging from an out-of-control ceiling fan above everyone. Had she had too much? No. No.

She smiled at the proverbially ignorant partiers. She walked for the door, not wanting to be around these...these...things anymore. After all, it might rub off on her again.

"Did you like it?"

"I liked it," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," she replied.

"Do you think we did the right thing?" he asked.

"Probably not," she laughed. "Do you feel it?"

"I feel it," he said.

"An immortal," she sighed. "I'm an immortal...finally. I hope no one notices that I'm not kinda pudgy anymore. Did he taste good to you?"

"Wonderful," he said. "I feel almost bad about it though."

"How so?" she asked.

"He was our own child," he replied.

"So?"

"So! Well, maybe some other day we'll have another that we won't need," Isaac shrugged.

"We needed that blood, Isaac. We had to, remember? REMEMBER? For our immortality. To become of a higher state was our goal. 'Take the blood of ye own son and consume him, and ye shall become mine equal - a being of the most supreme rancor'," she quoted. "It's too late to be guilty."

"Of course."

"So, what now?" she asked, dismissing the thought immediately.

"We feed?" he guessed.

"Feed?" she repeated.

"Well, yeah. We have to keep ourselves from starving," he told her. "Being what we are doesn't save us from starvation."

"Who do we get?" she asked.

"Someone from the party," he said, dully.

"Think they'll taste as good as him?" she wondered allowed.

He laughed. "Do you think something could ever taste that good again?"

She giggled. "You have a point. Shall we go?"

"We shall," Isaac replied. "I'm starved."