For most people the world consists of two parts: lightness and darkness, day and night. These two parts of the day bring out the two parts of who you are: professional, serious, and focused during the day, reckless, thrill-seeking, and unpredictable at night. The darkness has a way of releasing inhibitions, and people begin to display pieces of who they really want to be. But what about those who live in darkness always? Years spent living in darkness only weakens your humanity, eliminates what little morality you may have. And in sunshine -which for most wipes the slate clean and brings a new day- they feel only pain, a reminder that darkness is the only world they're allowed to know from now on.

Joshua Chasez is one of those people. Thinking over the past few centuries of his life, darkness was all he could remember. Sunset was his morning, and he couldn't wait to get up today. It was time to go meet with Amy; a girl he'd picked up at MONROE'S a week ago. MONROE'S wasn't a bar his kind was known to frequent, and that was exactly why he liked it. While it didn't offer the protection that a Circle owned bar did, it did offer one advantage: he was the only one of his kind to go there. It was his hunting ground, and his alone.

Amy made the mistake of stepping into his hunting ground.

It had been a Thursday night, and she'd had a stressful day at work, so she stopped off for a cocktail. He could still see her there, sitting at the bar in her black skirt and gray blouse. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a bun, and she absentmindedly toyed with the olive in her martini glass as her eyes roamed over the bottles behind the bar. He could feel her emotions: frustration, disappointment, loneliness. They were pulsing through her veins with every strong beat of her heart. But something else was there too, bubbling just below the surface. Defiance? Rebelliousness? He could smell the seed of revenge beginning to sprout within her, and he became giddy. The rebellious ones always presented a bit of a challenge.

"I've never seen you here before."

Amy glanced over at the sound of his voice, and promptly rolled her eyes as she turned back to her olive.

"I'm not interested."

"Interested in what?"

"In whatever you're selling, offering, or trying to get. I'm just in here for a quick drink. Alone."

Joshua inhaled a deep breath, turning his back to the mahogany bar and leaning his elbows on it.

"Quick? You sat down with it nearly, fourty minutes ago, and you're been toying with it ever since."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Spying on me now?"

He smiled, his lips curling into a toothless grin. One corner of her mouth lifted in return. Maybe he'd been wrong about her being a challenge.

"Let me guess: rough day at work? Your alarm clock didn't go off, and you woke up an hour behind schedule, leaving you no time to do your hair. You sit through traffic, and then pay twenty dollars a day to park just so your sleaze ball of a boss can stare down your blouse and give you bullshit assignments to keep you busy. You spend your day manning the coffeepot in the conference room, clearing the copy machine of paper jams, and spell checking your boss's emails so he doesn't look like an idiot. And at the end of all that he skips over you for that big promotion and gives it to someone newer and less qualified, rather than recognizing you for the creative, talented woman you are."

Amy sat quietly while he gave a freakishly accurate account of her daily life over the past three years. Her boss was such a dick. A fat, over paid, under qualified moron whose only pull was the fact that he was the owners' cousin. The mundaneness of her life was written so plain as day that even this stranger could see it.

"Be honest," she said. "Did you follow me here?"

Joshua smirked again, turning toward the bar and picking up his drink, a glass of straight whiskey poured over ice.

"I'm no stalker," he told her.

"Psychic?"

"Observant. I gathered you were running late by the simple bun in your hair. I guessed on the cost of parking, because that's about how much it costs everywhere in this city, and the rest I could read on your face."

Amy nodded along, impressed by his skill but hypnotized by his voice. It was deep and masculine. Seductive. Smooth. And he spoke lowly, only to her.

"You should consider trying to parlay that into some kind of financial gain. You're very gifted."

He shook his head, perfectly groomed chestnut locks catching the light.

"It's not a gift, more of an acquired skill."

"How long did you have to practice?"

"A long time."

His evasive method of answering questions only piqued her interest.

"How long is that?"

"Longer than you've been playing with that poor olive."

He gave her a playful wink, then reached over, and took the toothpick from her fingers.

"This is the best part of the martini," he said, twirling it between his fingers. "You let it sit, soaking up the vodka while the juice seeps out. You save it until the end, like a little bite sized prize you get to devour as an award for finishing the drink. But you've poked so many holes in it, I'm not sure it'll be able to hold anything, alcohol, juice, or otherwise."

Amy laughed, looking at the pathetic green mass at the end of the toothpick that used to be her olive. He was gazing at the stick, almost lovingly. Then he turned his eyes to her, and they were bright blue, so piercing they almost seemed to glow.

"But, if you're willing to try it, I think you might be able to get a taste of the deliciousness I'm talking about."

He reached over, rubbing the olive over her bottom lip. She could feel the vodka wetting her lip, and the tip of her tongue flicked out for a taste.

"Come on," his honey-like voice urged her gently. "Just try it."

He could feel her hesitation, the voice in her mind telling her to just get up and walk away before he had the opportunity to flirt any more. But he knew she wasn't going anywhere. More than hesitation, he could feel her desire. She wanted the olive. She could taste the saltiness; imagine the slight burn of the alcohol as she swallowed. She wanted the olive, and on the outskirts of her subconscious, she was starting to want him too. Joshua rubbed the olive over her lip again, and her mouth opened just enough to exhale. He pushed the olive into her mouth and she chewed slowly.

"Taste that? The bitter and the burn?"

Amy nodded, her eyes sliding closed as she let out a low moan. It was indescribable, sweeter and more potent than she ever thought it'd be. It was decadent and tart and sinful. Sinfully delicious.

"Do you like it?"

Amy's eyes opened and she licked her lips, hoping for some remainder of what she'd just experienced.

"That was incredible."

"It's the vodka," he said. "They use the finest vodka, imported from Russia. They say it's the purest you can get state-side. Would you like another?"

This time her smile was eager.

"Please."

Two hours later Joshua slammed her back against the front door of her apartment. Both of them were too engaged in their lip lock to realize how much that should have hurt her. She lived on the Upper East Side, alone, which was exactly the way he liked it. He hated it when there was a roommate involved, because then you had to be careful about how much noise you were making. But then, sometimes a roommate situation brought about a two-for-one deal, and because of that he couldn't really complain too much. But he wouldn't have that option tonight, unless a passing neighbor stopped to watch the show they were currently putting on in the hallway and offered to join in.

His lips attacked her feverishly as she fumbled to find the keys lost in her briefcase. He could feel the racing beat of her heart and the sexual desire running rampid in her body. She had been no challenge at all. After the olive he'd bought her a drink. A few drinks, actually, and it wasn't long until they'd decided to go back to her place. Now she was all over him, lost in his presence, eager to end the celibacy she'd been forced to endure for the past eight months. He could smell the excitement seeping out of her, it was flower and pure. He could smell the arousal, dark and spicy. And with every move she made he got a whiff of her blood, healthy and strong, loaded with cells and plasma. For him it was like smelling a juicy steak on the grill or a cake as it baked in the oven, a smell so tantalizing you wanted to eat it right out of the pan rather than wait for a plate. If only they had been somewhere private, then he could devour her the way he wanted to.

Finally breaking their kiss, she looked down at the offensive briefcase holding her keys hostage. Did it have any idea how much of a cock-block it was being right now? It had been months since the last time she'd been touched by a man, let alone a man who looked this good. He was tall and handsome and charming, and judging by what was pressing against her stomach he was also hung like a horse. His lips travelled down her neck, sucking at the pulsing vein as a hand pulled one her legs to wrap around his hip. Dear God, if this stupid briefcase didn't give up those keys right now she was going to throw it in the fireplace the second she didn't finally get inside. His head lifted from her neck, and there were those blue eyes.

"What's the hold up?" He asked.

Amy's expression turned shy, and she unhooked her leg from his body and placed her foot back on the floor.

"I can't find my keys."

Before she could even think he'd grabbed her hips and spun her around. She was sandwiched between the solid door and his hard-as-stone torso pressing into her back. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned into her, forcing her to absorb some of his weight. The closeness of his body and her vulnerable position sent a chill over her that made her nipples harden.

"Let me help you," he all but growled.

His hand dipped into her bag and immediately she heard a jingle as he held the keys up in the air.

"Looking for these?"

She smiled with disbelief as she took the keys from him.

"Another one of your acquired skills?"

"No. That was luck."

He stepped back, allowing her enough from to breath and unlock the door. Her hands shook as she undid the deadbolt and the spicy scent she was secreting grew stronger. With the door finally open she dropped her things on the floor in the foyer and turned to face him. This was the moment she'd been waiting for.

"So, would you like to-?"

The shrill ring of a phone halted her sentence, and annoyance flashed over her face.

"Excuse me."

As she headed further into the apartment Joshua's fist banged against the wooden trim on the door frame. He was really starting to become frustrated. First they'd taken a wrong turn on the way to her apartment, then her keys had gone missing, and now the phone was ringing. His patience was beginning to grow thin, and his jaw was beginning to ache as he fought against his needs.

"Sorry about that," she said, returning to the door. "That was my boss, the unappreciative dickwad. He needs some help on a last minute project, and I need to be back at the office in a few hours. It looks like we'll have to put tonight on hold until another day."

'Fuck,' he thought.

But he kept his little outburst to himself.

"Are you sure you don't want to invite me in, just for a few minutes? I was so looking forward to my night with you, Amy."

He ended his sentence by running a slow finger down the center of her body, from her lips, between her breasts, to just below her belly button. Her response was a whiff of spices, but he felt her denial before she spoke it.

"Sorry Charlie, this is important. It could mean that promotion I want so badly. But, just because tonight has to end prematurely doesn't mean we can't try again another time."

Her hand crossed the threshold back into the hallway and she handed him a business card.

"Call me?"

Joshua captured her hand before she could steal it back, and he took the card before kissing her knuckles.

"Sure thing."

Once her door closed Joshua turned his back and rolled his eyes as he stuffed the card into his pocket. All of that time and energy spent on her and he'd gotten nothing in return. Sure, he had her number, and he was willing to bet she'd jump at the chance to meet with him if he ever did call, but he was here now. He needed someone now, damn it. There were just a few more hours until sunrise.

A week had passed since then, and Joshua had spent his evenings spread between half a dozen women since then. All of them had fulfilled their purpose perfectly and his record of never having been turned down was still intact, all except for Amy. That was the reason he was going to see her tonight.

At this hour the streets of New York weren't empty, but they looked damn near deserted compared to how they looked during the day. At least, what he'd heard about daytime New York. It'd been a long time since he'd been able to roam the streets during the day.

His blacked out Mercedes CL65 rolled through the empty streets, passing cobblestone apartments and newly city planted trees. It was quiet for the most part except for the occasional wailing of sirens in the distance. It took him a few minutes to finally find a parking place a few spots down from her building. The pavement was shining with a layer of freshly fallen dew, and rocks crunched under his expensive loafers. He passed the night guard at the door on his way inside.

The older black man merely tipped his hat and waved him by. The sooner the young man left, the sooner he could go back to dozing at his post. Taking the elevator up to the third floor he strolled down the modern hallway to apartment 324. He could smell her already, her dark spicy scent creeping out through the crack under the door. The fragrance made an ache of wanting roll through his jaw. He knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping twice on the wood. He heard her footsteps as she hurried over, and the door was flung open.

"Hey," she smiled, taking in his dark slacks and fitted black sweater.

"Hello."

She raised her right wrist, checking the time on her slim gold watch.

"It's nearly eleven o'clock."

Joshua's response was a relaxed shrug.

"I had a late meeting," he lied.

"Must have been important."

"Not really. It was kind of a snooze fest."

Amy nodded, trying to fight the smile on her pink lips. She was trying to camouflage her excitement, playing it coy and cool.

"Well, would you like to come in?"

His jaw throbbed a little harder and he smiled whole heartedly.

"I'd love too."

Inside, the apartment was modest and simplistic. A dark wooden table with a silver lamp sat just inside the door, her purse and keys resting on top. Beyond that was a small living room, which housed a new flat screen TV and a plush green sofa.

"Sorry, it's a little messy," she said, indicating the stacks of stuffed manila folders in the corner.

"It's quite alright." He turned to face her. "I'm not that particular about my surroundings."

"Sounds like you're calling yourself easy."

"Hmm, not easy, more laid-back."

His crystal gaze grew more intense as he took a step toward her. Amy could feel the mood in the room darken with his energy. The air seemed thick, and between her legs her panties grew damp.

"Where I grew up, if a girl was laid-back like that, she was easy."

The sentence left her lips, hanging in the air during a moment of silence. Then a force pushed against her, and Amy suddenly found herself perched on the foyer table. Joshua stood between her knees, holding her there.

"How do you move so fast?" She asked, breathless.

His sudden surprise movements were thrilling and exciting. To her, he was mysterious, and spontaneous.

Leaning close to her, he brushed his lips over her cheek. It must have been a chilly night, here in New York, because the frigid air had cooled his skin considerably.

"Magic powers," he whispered to her.

"Magic? The only magic people I've heard of are those things on the news, and you're not one of those. Right?"

He knew what 'things' she was referring too. Vampires. When he didn't respond to her question, her pulse began to quicken as fear and confusion set in. Her blood raced so fast that he could see the pulsing of her arteries through her skin.

"Joshua?"

Her voice trembled as she spoke his name, and she reached up to touch his face. He'd just added the element of danger to his allure, the spicy aroma only grew stronger. She touched his cheek, her eyes drawn to his mouth. He parted his lips and bared his teeth, allowing his fangs to slide down. They were long and white, sharp as the tip of a knife. They gleamed in the light of the little lamp behind her.

"You are a vampire," she whispered.

Her voice held much more astonishment than fear.

"I am."

She stared at his fangs for a long moment, finally pulling her eyes up to meet his.

"I've never met a vampire before."

"I can assure you, you have. You just didn't know what they were."

Her eyes wandered down his body, from his chiseled jaw to his Adam's apple, down to his chest.

"Are you afraid?"

He knew that she was not, simply because he did not want her to be. Amy shook her head, putting her hands to his chest. Her palm rested between his pecs where she should have been able to feel his heart beat. There was nothing. But, she could feel the coolness of his skin through the fabric.

"No, I'm sure that if you wanted to hurt me you probably could have done it already."

His hands spanned her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the small table, and therefore closer to him. He could feel the heat from her groin radiating out between her thighs.

"I definitely would have done it by now," his voice full of certainty. "Unless my intentions were to toy with you first."

He felt her sharp intake of breathe. Her pulse continued to race, her beating heart echoing so loudly it clouded all his thoughts. His fangs were growing a mind of their own, wanting to reach out to her and pierce her flesh. How would she taste? Bitter? Sweet? She smelled like vanilla, maybe she would taste the same.

"But that is not my intention," he reassured. "There are much more fun things I can think of doing with you, than harming you."

Amy smiled, only slightly relieved.

"I-I heard a rumor," she stammered. "That a vampire bite during sex is like, the ultimate high for a human."

Joshua nodded, running a hand through the ends of her hair.

"It is. A bite in the beginning heightens your senses, sends your libido into overdrive. Every touch, every move, will feel more intense than ever before. And a bite at the point of orgasm... well, I've been told that it's indescribable."

Amy had been listening with interest, her eyes growing wide with curiosity at every detail he shared.

"Won't the bite make the human into a vampire?"

Joshua shook his head.

"Old wives tale."

"Really?"

"Oh, absolutely."

He wove his hand deep into her hair this time. Playing with the strands was calming her speeding pulse. He didn't want her too worked up, or she'd overcook herself when he did bite her.

"Do you want to try it?" He suggested. "I promise it'll be our little secret."

Amy's eyes rose to his again, and he stared into them. He seeped into her, slipping into her mind and unlocking her deepest thoughts. She wanted to be bitten. It was naughty, and adventurous. And above all, her parents would hate the idea of their little girl opening her legs -and her veins- to a vampire. He loved it when the humans had Daddy issues; it made things a lot easier for him.

Slowly she turned her head, pushing her brunette locks behind her shoulders. Her gaze fell to the floor as she tilted her jaw. Her neck, covered with smooth sun kissed skin, was stretched out before him. She looked nervous, and her blood pulsed strongly.

Without hesitation he leaned into her, biting down forcefully. His fangs tore through her skin, and she gasped at the sharp pain and the soothing endorphins that followed immediately after. The blood rushed into his mouth, warm and sweet as he took deep, long pulls.

By 4am Joshua was back in his Mercedes, heading home to upstate New York. You'd think that with such a dense population as New York, most vampires would like to live in the city. Some do. But the smart ones live out of town, where the streets have dirt shoulders and the neighbors' house is at least twenty feet away. In the city there's too many eyes watching to be able to maintain any sense of anonymity, but it was prime hunting ground. Not that hunting humans was something any self-respecting vampire would do.

It is strictly prohibited by the government. And by government, that's vampire government, not human. Even though vampires had ousted themselves and revealed the truth about their existence over five years ago, little had been done to acknowledge their presence. They aren't protected by laws pertaining to civil rights, gender equality, affirmative action, driver's licenses, DUI regulations, or even marriage or divorce. Subsequently, they are not subject to punishment for disobeying laws.

For one, they aren't considered true men or women, so they aren't specified in any laws. For two, how do you punish a vampire? They're hard to catch. Any vampire can move with the speed of light, and the oldest of the race have the ability to fly. But even if you could catch one, it wasn't easy to subdue one. With superhuman strength and bodies as tough as chiseled granite it wasn't easy to get the best of one. And if you did, you'd better have a pair of silver handcuffs with you to keep it under control, because silver is the only mineral that effects them. But, then where would you keep it? You'd have to have a light-tight space with silver bars. Hanging up garlic or crucifixes won't do anything, except give you a smelly room with bad décor. Plus, vampire prisoners would bring a new meaning to the sentence Life without Parole, and bring a heavy burden to the already struggling tax payers. So, for the most part humans have left vampires alone.

They're a tight community governed by district managers, who report to an elite group of generals, who report to the Queen. She set their rules, regulations, and presides over all trials. There is no House of Representative, Senate, or Supreme Court; only her word, passed down through the iron fists of her Generals. Joshua is one of those Generals.

Miles out of the city, nestled up against a hill topped with a navy blue sky and twinkling stars, Joshua's CL65 pulled up to a wooden two story house. The paint on the outside was white and weathered, worn around the edges. The garage opened and he pulled in, a young girl who looked to be about 17 stood in the doorway.

"Welcome home, Master," she greeted him when he stepped out of the car.

"Sandra," he nodded to her. "I'm sure you took care of everything while I was away."

"Yes. I cleaned up the basement, and scrubbed the carpet in the entryway, and ran your bathe as requested."

"I did not request a bathe," he corrected.

Sandra's eyes lowered, and she began to nervously fidget with the uniform. Her pale blonde hair was pulled tight into a ponytail, hanging down to the base of her neck. She was a new vampire, barely two years old, and Joshua had ended up with her by mistake. A vampire drinking from a human would have only temporary effects on the mortal, but a human drinking from a vampire? The effects become obvious immediately. First convulsions and spasming, until the human fears they may break their own back from the pressure. Then they body will begin to fail; liver, kidneys, lungs all halt, until eventually the heart stops. The next step is crucial to the transformation. The dead human must be taken to hallowed ground and buried in a shallow grave. An hour or so will pass before a new breed will dig itself out of the grave. Dirt will fly, screeching will fill the air, and the dead human will emerge vampire.

As a rule, vampire makers are to be responsible for their "children" until they could properly care for themselves. The first thing the newborn will want to do -the only thing it will be able to comprehend- is feed. Baby vampires are incredibly strong, and awkward with their new bodies. They must be taught to live all over again, from walking, to hunting, how to live safely, and what new laws to obey. But newborns are also rogue during their first few hours, and if their master isn't waiting there with a supply of fresh blood, any unsuspecting human in a several mile radius is in grave danger. Entire towns can be obliterated in a single night. And if the maker was careless enough to bury the human too close to dawn; the baby would crawl from the grave, only to burn to death at the first ray of sunshine. There were makers who liked to fry their children just for the fun of it, and that was where Joshua stepped in. Vampire on vampire murder was strictly prohibited by the Queen, and as a General he enforced her laws up and down the East coast.

He 'd gone to pay Sandra's maker a house call one night, after having received a tip that he had a habit of turning young humans just to watch them burn. When Joshua arrived, Sandra was laying in an upstairs bedroom, her heart completely stalled. Joshua had taken her to a nearby cemetery, and buried her in the back near the fence. When she emerged, he was waiting. She'd spent her entire vampire life with him, cooking, cleaning and tending to all his need; and in exchange he offered her protection, a home, and a willing powerful teacher to show her everything she'd need to know. He taught her to jump, to hide, and to feed. She was now learning how to read minds, and hopefully one day he'd teach her to fly. She admired him, respected him, and adored him.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she spoke finally. "I just assumed that when you returned…"

Joshua silenced her nervous ramble by placing a hand on her shoulder. He smiled softly at her small frame.

"Don't worry, your intuition was right. I could use a bath before bed."

Sandra nodded, and he turned away from her, heading farther into the old farm house. The door to the basement was in the kitchen, marked by a simple white door with a brass knob. Down the old creaky steps there was a long hallway, decorated like something out of eighteenth century Paris. Red crushed velvet fabric draped the walls, and painting by Van Gough and de Goya hung over nearly ancient gold candelabras. These were their living quarters, where they stayed during the day. The lack of windows kept the sunlight out, and the subterranean infrastructure insured that it would never be more than 70 degrees, regardless of how hot the summers got. Everything was decorated in the same historic design. It reminded him the most of home, or how "home" used to be.

Joshua moved down the hall, to the second to the last door on the left. It housed her personal bathroom, which also connected into his personal sleep quarters. A large copper claw foot tub sat in the middle of the room, steam rising from the water. White candles of various sizes cast glows and shadows as they flickered from their places in the corners. Joshua moved to the counter, stopping in front of the rod iron mirror. His reflection was hazy and murky, a side effect of having gone a day without feeding. It would return to normal when the human blood in his stomach was finally digested. While Joshua chose to make his diet purely of human blood, vampire to vampire feeding was the best. Human blood was thin, and provided little substance for the complicated inner workings of a vampire's body.

Drinking from a fellow vampire provided all the nourishment needed, and could keep the urge to feed at bay for weeks. With humans, feeding was required almost daily. For Joshua, the daily challenge of finding a new human was part of the appeal. He enjoyed the daily conquests, and the variation of flavors never got boring. Every human tasted different. People of the South had a spicy, Cajun kick to their blood, and Californians sometimes had a fishy, breezy, salt-water aftertaste. Those from Florida were citrusy, and mortals from the Middle West were a little bland. But even within regions there were variations. Virgins were rich and chocolaty, and drug addicts were sugary and made you feel hyper.

Vampire blood offered little in the way of flavor, but the effects were euphoric. Their fangs were tipped in the sort of venom the induced endorphins to mask the pain their pray would undoubtly feel. While vampires produced the venom, they weren't necessarily immune to it. Being bitten by a fellow vampire gave them the same high as the humans, and their already stellar libidos went into overtime. The urge to bite back was instinctual, and since your partner was already a vampire, you could give in to your urge without fear of having to care for a newborn. But the exchanging of blood caused vampires to imprint, a sense of ownership and entitlement falling over them. An imprinted male was of no use to anyone other than his female, because she became all he thought about it, and he spent every moment of the rest of his eternity protecting her. Because of the imprinting most vampires are mated with their first bit for life, and Joshua had no use for a partner. An eternity of companionship by the same woman -living, dead, or otherwise- was enough to drive any man insane. Besides, he enjoyed the variety of flavors available to his sophisticated palette, and he'd never been one for sharing his coffin anyway.

"My Lord, fresh towels?"

The silence was broken by Sandra's voice. He turned to find her in the doorway, a stack of bright white towels in her thin arms. She had pale green eyes that always flicked to his, and then away, and if she wanted to say something but never could.

"Yes, thank you."

He motioned for her to enter, and she placed them on the table in the corner. Then she turned to him, and move to his side.

"My Lord," she began. "Would you like me to summon a giver for you?"

Joshua grimaced at the notion. Givers were vampire whores, paid by the hour to give blood and fulfill sexual fantasies.

"No, that won't be necessary."

"But Master," she protested. "You must be starving. Your reflection is nearly gone. If you don't feed soon you'll get sick, and I don't know if the Queen will be able to find another General to replace you. I know you don't like the Givers, but they're around for a reason. Won't you please consider-?"

"Shhh…."

He calmed her rant with a low hiss of his voice as he touched her smooth cheek.

"Sweet Sandra," he cooed. "Don't worry. Your Master isn't going anywhere. I'm over 550 years old; it would take more than missing a few feedings to get rid of me. Besides, I did feed."

He turned back to the mirror, where his reflection was as solid as everything else in the room.

"See, it's coming back already."

He smiled reassuringly, and she grinned back.

"Go now," he told her. "It's nearly dawn, time for bed."

He could sense the sun, just barely beginning to creep its way toward the horizon. All vampires had their own internal solar clock. You could consider it self-preservation, or maybe it had something to do with all of Darwin's theories.

"Yes, Master."

Sandra bowed and headed out of the room. He could hear her as she made way down the hall to her own room. When her door closed Joshua returned to his own business. With the sun on the rise and the bath water beginning to cool he was running out of time.

A cream button down was undone and dropped to the floor, revealing the sculpted body underneath. With hard muscle stretched under pale lifeless skin he looked more like a marble Michelangelo statue than a real live man. His dark hair was cute short, having been kept that way since he cut it in 1861 to fight in the American Civil War. His strong Roman nose and masculine jaw had been passed down from his family when he was born in 1432. The only decoration his skin bore was the small tattoo on the back of his neck that all Generals received on the day they're appointed. It was a series of three tally marks, simple black lines made out of ash and tapped into the skin by the pricking of a bamboo stick. It was an ancient tattoo method, dating back thousands of years.

Stepping into the tub, Joshua sighed as the water enveloped him. He was anxious to wash the smell of the human, Amy, from his body. She hadn't been too thrilled when he climbed out of her bed and started to pull his clothes back on after sucking blood from her collarbone and releasing himself inside her. She, like most of the other humans he'd been with had thought it'd been true love. But that was a side effect of the venom, completely out of Joshua's control. So whatever heartbreak they felt was not his problem. All he needed from them was a little blood, and in return he gave them the best fuck of their lives. You don't live 578 years without picking up a couple of tricks. The unparalleled strength and endless stamina didn't hurt either.

No, the pain Amy was feeling right now was not his fault. In a few days the bite would heal and he would be completely out of her life without a trace.

Gone.