Made in Death's Image 02

FOR HER BITE: BOOK TWO

PROLOGUE

It was a dark night, with storm clouds rolling in over the city from the south. In the alley way, Ceil's back was turned, towards the stone wall. Despite her long brown hair being pulled back into a ponytail, the hoodie she wore covered her and her figure into an inconspicuous form. Her fingers brushing across the wall carefully, as if examining the facade of the building. Then, she hummed, taking a step back to turn her attention up towards the sky. As she did, she could feel the three vampires step into the alley way. Their attention on her and only her.

"You should know better," she warned without turning around.

One stepped forward, "One human, three vampires, I think we're good."

She turned then, rolling her eyes, "Really?"

"Stand back," the cocky one laughed, "She's mine."

Ceil didn't move as the vampire lunged across the alley way. It was only when he reached her did she move. Her movements were graceful and swift. Her arm shot out, catching him by surprise. Her hand slammed into his throat, shoving his Adam's apple back into his throat. He coughed hard, stumbling back a step. She was by no means as fast as a vampire, but her years of training let her understand some of their more predictable movements.

It was all she needed.

Her other hand had already moved backwards, pulling the large silver plated knife from its holster before burying it into the vampire's neck. The vampire fell back dead, the knife still in his throat before it exploded in a rancid pile of sinew. The other two realized the joke was over very quickly, lunging towards the woman hissing. She took two steps back before using the wall to flip over their forms, landing behind them. As she landed, she pulled two smaller knifes from her pant pockets, throwing them both at the first vampire. He let out a cry, the knives finding their place in his chest.

The third one grabbed her by the wrists, as a means to restrain her. She grunted, bringing her foot up to kick him in the chest. His hold broke, but as she took a step back, the other had pulled the knives free of his flesh and stabbed the short knife into her back. She grunted as he pulled the knife free.

"We have what we want," the one in front of her said, backing up.

Ceil's eyes narrowed as she leaned into the wall, "And what did you want?"

"We heard it, Codrin, he is dead," the other said, now standing beside the other.

She gasped, "What? Codrin is dead? H-How?"

"All we know is a hunter and a vampire were involved," the vampire said slowly, holding up the knife drenched in her blood, "And with his death, a change is coming. Someone has to fill that void."

Her eyes widened, "The rules of the old world are gone then. There doesn't need to be a war. Or will the vampires continue to be unreasonable monsters?"

"The way it'll be done won't be a war. We aren't beasts. We aren't monsters. We know the value of subtly," the other laughed, "You slaughtered one of us so carelessly and have the nerve to think of us as animals!"

She sighed, the pain in her shoulder growing, "Then what's your plans now?"

"Change. We hope the hunters are prepared."

Then they were gone, leaving the bleeding hunter alone in the night. Ceil breathed slowly, moving over to the dead vampire's puddle and freeing her blade from the pile of flesh. Sliding it back into her holster, she stumbled out of the alley way.

As she walked away, a soft rain began to fall, cleaning the sinew from the alley and soothing Ciel's founded fear.

ONE

"Here you go," Michael said to the pretty blonde at the bar, "Your Sidecar."

She smiled, taking her drink and moving to join her table at the back of the bar. As soon as she walked away, he let his customer service smile drop from his face as he sighed, leaning against the bar. His thoughts elsewhere. It had been six months since he left the hospital. He sighed again, six months since Codrin's death.

He ran his fingers through his hair looking at the wall clock. It was almost closing, and he couldn't be happier. When he started back to work five months ago, he was overjoyed at the normality his life returned to. Now, however, he felt as though every night dragged out more and more. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he wasn't sure he was ok with being normal again.

Michael's phone rang behind him, and he blinked out of his thoughts, turning to pick up the phone. It was Francesca. He paused, a frown on his face. He knew she meant well, but since the incident six months ago, well, she was certainly being a mom. His frown jerked into a smile the more he thought about it.

"Hello?"

Fran's voice was as warm as always, "Hello dear, is everything going alright?"

"Yes," he chuckled, "Ten minutes until closing."

"And you're alright to close on your own?" she asked, "I can come down if it makes you nervous to be in the place alone. It's no trouble."

He rolled his eyes, "No, no. I'm good. I promise, I'm ok."

"How are you getting home?"

"Well, I'm not going home right after closing," he said slowly.

There was silence, and he knew what she was thinking.

"Are you going out tonight with Grace?" she asked quietly.

He paused for a moment, "I am, yes. We're going out to dinner."

"Oh Michael," she sighed, "I worry about you, I really do. She's the reason you went missing for almost two weeks and then kidnapped? I didn't know if you were ok until you ended up in that hospital. All in under a month. I don't want to come off as nagging, but ugh, I don't know."

He nodded to himself, "I know Fran, but we're taking it slow. A-And I really like her. I won't forget all that happened, but I want to move on. With her."

"Alright," she said brightly, "I know you'll be ok."

They said their goodbyes, then Michael was announcing the last call. As he gave the bar clients time to leave, he began cleaning up. Wiping down first the bar counter, then the tables, and washing the dishes. The clients left, as he finished sweeping and mopping. As he finished, he heard the familiar car door slam shut. He looked up towards the front door, a smile on his face. He put away the mop and broom before heading outside, locking the door behind him.

Standing beside her sleek black Mercedes was Grace, looking as beautiful as always, her short blonde hair holding a youthful spring, her signature red lipstick across her lips and she wore a lavish, black dress that left little to the imagination. It stopped below her knees, having a sweetheart neckline, with sheer lace sleeves. Along with it, a pair of red pumps. He paused, his eyes widening, his breath caught in his throat.

"Hello darling," she purred, loving how his eyes drank her up, "How was work?"

He walked over, smiling brightly, "it was ok. Nothing but slow and tedious. Better now that I'm with you. Am I under dressed?"

She kissed his cheek, before opening his car door for him, "No. You look perfect."

"You don't have to open the door for me." He chided.

All Grace did was hush him and close the door after he entered. Michael sat listening to the dulled click of her heels that somehow penetrated the car. She sat down swiftly and in one impossibly fluid motion.

"Where are we going?"

She smirked, "You'll see."

TWO

The restaurant was extremely fancy to say the least. Despite the place having dimmed lights, he could still see the expensive and patterned marble walls, with black and gold tiled floors. Even the tables were excessively decorated, no doubt the cloths on top of them cost more than his rent. In his seat, he shifted uncomfortably as Grace ordered an expensive bottle of wine and herself a steak extra rare. Then, it was Michael's turn to order. Who nearly choked on his own tongue when he noticed the prices. Hell, a glass of water here was more expensive than the most expensive rum at the bar.

"He'll try the risotto with Iberico Ham and Truffle," Grace cut in, seeing his distress, "With a glass of your nicest German beer."

The waiter nodded, before leaving.

"I am definitely under dressed," Michael muttered.

Grace chuckled, "You could get naked, you'd look even better."

Her words had desire and joy filling him. She was so playful nowadays and with no sinister intention.

"How did you find a place open so late?" he then asked curiously.

The waiter returned, pouring Grace a glass of wine then placing Michael's expensive German beer in front of him. Then, the waiter was gone again, leaving the two alone. Grace sipped at her red wine for a moment, allowing Michael to do the same with his beer. He felt guilty, to him the beer tasted like beer, the higher cost of this restaurant did nothing for his taste buds.

"This place caters to vampires," Grace then said.

Michael's body froze, a brief flash of fear filling him. He scanned the room realizing the anxiety he felt was simply because of class but because of species differences. He could spot a few pale individuals that surely weren't human now that he thought about it.

"You're safe," she hummed softly, "You're safe with me. And while this place caters secretly to vampires, it's higher demographic is rich young people. They make surprisingly good snacks for the more restrained of our kind."

That made him relax but only slightly, "H-How did you hear about this place?"

"Vampires weekly," she joked, "I'm kidding, I got an exclusive invite from them I was Codrin's celebrated progeny," she paused hoping the words didn't send Michael spiraling into a panic attack, "I am a rich business woman after all, they sent out invites on their opening night. Actually, the invite came with a lovely bottle of their red wine."

Michael nodded, trying to compose himself, not realizing how involved Grace was in her world. It made him realize how much he still didn't know about her. Actually, he didn't realize she had a business aside from her previous position as Codrins...his mood darkened slightly. In truth, she still hadn't opened up exactly what she was to Codrin. He knew Codrin was Grace's maker but he also knew there was something else there that Grace simply avoided.

"Michael?" she asked softly.

He blinked out of his thoughts, "What were you saying?"

"I asked how your food is," Grace said, her voice gentle.

He looked down, the risotto on the table in front of him. They ate in silence for a while before Michael found himself not very hungry. Grace picked up on this quickly, a pretty frown forming onto her lips. She leaned forward, her hand grasping onto his.

"Is the food not to your liking?" she asked but her abs Michael both knew what she was really asking about.

Before he could respond, she was already flagging down the waiter. Michael's eyes widened as the woman began ordering everything off the menu. While it was overwhelming, it was also funny. Grace rattled down the list of food in every appropriate accent to the language of origin for each dish. She looked so fucking adorable, her eyes skimming over the menu, a pout on her face as she read each item, the occasional wink at him, full well knowing the joke she was playing. A smile broke onto his face, and he realized they both had so many skeletons that shouldn't ruin this night.

The plates began arriving and Michael did his best to try some of everything, enjoying their date. They laughed and giggled before finally ordering dessert, which was a strawberry vanilla cake topped with white mousse, gold flakes and shaved chocolate truffles.

"Is the gold really necessary?" He asked poking at it with a dessert spoon long since brought it to the table.

Grace laughed, lifting a piece and placing it on her tongue. He watched as she sucked her finger clean of the confectionary mousse and gold leaf. Her red lips wrapped so suggestively around her finger. He looked her back in the eyes and she stopped breaking out into laughter, "Oh sweet man. Gold doesn't taste like shit. Rich humans are just painfully excessive."

Michael joined her in some laughter before turning his attention to the dessert and trying some, "Mhm," Michael moaned, loving the taste. However sweet and pleasurable the dessert was, his mind was still on Grace.

He spoon-fed her a bite of the cake, to which she ate. Grace wasn't one for human food, but she loved the attention from Michael, she loved him being so gentle and caring, feeding her bits of cake from a spoon. Grace sexily licked the side of the spoon, keeping her eye contact with Michael as she did. He swallowed hard, his member growing hard at the sight of her when suddenly her eyes grew wide and she leaned back. Her entire mood changed, her eyes turning from loving to very angry.

"What is it?" Michael asked curiously.

She didn't need to answer because as soon as the words left his mouth, Michael got his answer. Flanking from the sides of the table, the remaining two members of the Hidden. They were dressed in their signature cloak, although the man wore a long sleeve shirt and slacks, the woman wore a tight fitting dress.

"What are you doing?" Grace snarled viciously. Her eyes flashed that same silver.

Michael reared back in his seat, his gaze frozen onto the table. His entire body tensed up as pure fear and panic filled him. Every fiber of his being begged him to run away from the table, but he held back. He wanted to trust Grace, and he wanted to show that he was trying his best considering the circumstances.

"We apologize for," the man paused to send Michael a disgusted look, "interrupting your event however, we have come for an answer. Our king is dead and now we must--"

"--stop right there," Grace hissed, "Leave. Now."

The woman bowed, "We will leave but you cannot run from the question forever."

Then they were gone. Once they left the restaurant Grace relaxed, but Michael couldn't. He felt as if the walls of the restaurant were closing in on him, a pressure filled his chest. So he stood on shaking legs, rubbing his face as he looked at Grace. No words needed to be said. She simply nodded, leaving a large amount of bills on the table before they too headed out of the restaurant and towards Grace's car.

Panic filled Grace as they got in silently. She knew the Hidden showing up would be horrible for Michael's mental health let alone their relationship. Not to mention what the Hidden wanted, and what Grace had purposely kept from Michael. It wasn't to be suspicious, she simply did not tell him anything about her vampire ordeals because he wanted to go slow. He made her feel human again, she didn't want to ruin that.

She started driving, not paying attention to the increasing speed.

"I am so sorry Michael," she gushed, her eyes on him, "Are you alright? Of course you're not alright, I'm a fool for even asking. I cannot express how sorry I am, oh god I hate that they showed up. I should kill them--nevermind. I am so sorry Michael, please say something, I don't know what to do to make you feel better--"

"--Stop!" Michael snapped suddenly, throwing his hands up, "Just stop! And slow down, Jesus Christ. I'm ok Grace. I'll be ok, but pushing me isn't helping."

She breathed out slowly, the car's speed decreased to the legal speed.

"They want you to take over," Michael then said quietly, "Don't they?"

She sighed, "Yes."

"How long?"

Grace hesitated, only making his anger spike, "Grace how long?"

"Four months," she finally admitted.

They drove in silence for a while longer. Her eyes flickered over to him but she didn't say anything. Instead, she let him sit with his anger, knowing she'd only piss him off more if she pushed him right now. Michael sat in his own comfortable silence, he was stewing with his anger but he was also trying to calm himself down enough to talk to her about the issue. He understood why she wouldn't bring up vampire issues right away but it still angered him to know she kept something like this from him and for so long.

"I'm not going to do it," Grace then said.

He looked over at her, curious, "If you don't, what will happen?"

"I do not know. Perhaps one of the Hidden will step up or they'll renominate, or maybe even one of Codrin's other progeny. The list is truly a long one," she hummed.

"But you're at the top of it."

"Yes."

He sighed, looking out the window, "Will anyone seek revenge for him? The Hidden? Codrin's other progeny share is sadism?"

"No," she chuckled, "They're estranged, aren't they? Left or abandoned for not living up to him"

"How about his other creations?" he chuckled, relaxing slightly.

She tilted her head slightly, "That is not quite how the vampire lineage works. When one of us dies, we don't seek revenge. Not unless we feel truly indebted to our maker. When we die, the others simply move on. For the better or worse."

"I see," he said.

But he didn't, not really.

Eventually, Grace pulled up to Michael's little apartment. She cut the engine and when he got out, she did too. This was part of their routine. They'd kiss each other nicely goodbye, and they'd go on with their night. However, this time, Grace laid her hand on his cheek. After such a horrible night, she wanted it to end off on a good note.

"Perhaps I can come up this time?" she whispered.

He hesitated, stepping away from her touch, "I-I'm not ok tonight."

"Oh," Grace sighed, disappointed filling her, "Ok. Please take care of yourself?"

"I will. Goodnight Grace."

"Goodnight Michael."

She watched him go into his apartment as sexual frustration and disappointment filled her like lemon and milk. She was angry they had yet to be intimate together since the incident but her emotions softened as she realized it was probably for the best. It was the eternal hunger and lust in her blood and nor really her soul. After the night they had, perhaps a tad of time away from each other would do better than being together at the moment.

So she got back in her car, and drove away.

THREE

Grace headed home. Parking her car in her garage, she then made her way into her 1860's post modern inspired house. With a groan, she kicked off her pumps, grabbed a bottle of chilled red wine from her fridge and collapsed onto her blue sofa. She hummed, opening her laptop and reading through business emails whilst chugging the red wine right from the bottle.

However, soon her hunger got the better of her and she found herself unable to focus on her emails. She tried to focus but the mental image and urge to rip out a human's throat and drink them like a slurpee. The primal need to feed her hunger finally got the better of her however, and with an annoyed groan, she slammed her laptop shut.

"Alright Grace," she muttered to herself.

Stepping into her bedroom, she changed her elegant dress for a short slutty red one instead, along with her red pumps. After changing she took off into the night. By the time Grace got to the nightclub, it was already in full swing. Lucky for her, she was an attractive woman and thus got to walk past the long line up outside. Though worse came to worse and little use of glamour wouldn't hurt.

The moment she stepped inside the loud and flashy night club, she could feel all eyes on her. Hanging her head high, she pulled a smirk on her face and made her way over to the bar. There, it took no time at all for the bartender to notice the beautiful blonde and walk over, with a stupidly confident smile on his face.

"Hey doll," he purred, "What can I get you?"

She hummed, "Blood and Sand please. Use Oban."

He nodded, moving to make her drink. She watched the human attempt a flashy show of making her drink before he wrote his number onto a napkin and slid it over along with the drink. She thanked him, handing him a bill before she walked off into the crowd of dancing people. Grace moved to stand against the cool wall of the club, her eyes flickering around as she debated who would have the privilege to feed her.