With a deep breath, he hit 'dial' for the fourth time.

After five rings, he felt his hopes giving way. Just as he was trying to work out if he would leave a message or just keep calling, there was an audible click and somewhat muffled swearing.

Emily: "God damned phone… swear to god I didn't leave it under the couch… Yes?"
Tristan: "Is this a bad time?"
Emily: "Tristan?"
Tristan: "Yes?"
Emily: "Just making sure I wasn't imaging things."

Tristan: "No, I'm me. I'm pretty sure I'm me, anyway. Are you busy right now?"
Emily: "Busy doing a whole load of nothing."
Tristan: "Would you be able to get together in about an hour? I have something I have to look into, but I really need to talk to you."
Emily: "You sound upset. Is everything all right?"

Tristan: "Not… well no, but I think things may be getting better. I really need to talk to you in person."
Emily: "Sure, I can do that. As long as it's within walking distance or you come get me -- Mary's working tonight and took the car."
Tristan: "Whatever you're most comfortable with, although I really don't like the idea of you walking around at night by yourself."
Emily: "Hey, I can be pretty scary if I need to be! I do appreciate your concern, though. Why don't you just stop by the house if it's not too much trouble?"

Tristan: "Not any trouble at all."
Emily: "Tristan, I'm really glad you called."
Tristan: "I am, too. I'll see you in an hour."
Emily: "Sounds good."

Tristan stared up into the starless spring night and took a deep breath before walking through the front doors of the club.

His senses were instantly assaulted by an overabundance of the color red. There were small groups of people pocketed together, their conversations hushed yet excited. The air seemed charged with anticipation, and Tristan suddenly wondered if he should have brought James along after all.

He turned around in order to find a secluded corner from which to observe and narrowly avoided running headlong into the last person he wanted to see.

Tristan: "Oh fantastic. What the hell do you want?"
Jacob: "I was hoping for some chocolate donuts but they only have stale store-bought cookies."
Tristan: "What?"
Jacob: "You asked me what I wanted."

Tristan: "You do know you're not exactly at a Krispy Kreme, right?"
Jacob: "I'm well aware of my surroundings right now."
Tristan: "This town is way too small."
Jacob: "It's the second largest city in the county."
Tristan: "Still way too small."

Tristan was about to find somewhere else to lurk when he was suddenly being clapped on the back by a very unwelcomed hand.

Chris: "Well I'll be damned, you decided to join us after all! I think you'll get a lot out of this -- I'll be covering some pretty interesting things tonight."
Tristan: "Is this your little three-ring circus, then? Or is there another ringmaster lurking in the shadows somewhere?"
Chris: "That's a bit melodramatic, don't you think? Tonight is my show, that's all you need to know right now."
Tristan: "I didn't think you could come up with something like this on your own. Although 'Club Crimsyn' is something I could see you having a hand in."
Chris: "The 'Y' makes it hip."
Tristan: "Yes, if you say so."

Chris: "So who's your little friend?"
Tristan: "He's not my friend."
Chris: "Didn't mean to hit a nerve."

At that moment, Tristan decided he really hated Chris Peterson. Maybe not as much as James did, but he was sure he was quickly catching up. His smarmy know-it-all grin was just the sort of thing that could put him in a bad mood for several weeks. Suddenly all he wanted to do was prove Peterson wrong about anything, no matter how insignificant.

Tristan: "I only meant that Jacob and I have only known one another a short time. I'm sure we'll be fast friends. Isn't that right?"
Jacob: "Actually-"
Tristan: "See?"
Chris: "Right, I can see that. In that case, I'll leave you two alone so you can 'bond.' I have a meeting to start."

Tristan resisted the urge to shove Peterson to the ground from behind, not wanting to cause a scene in unfriendly territory. Instead, he turned his attention to Jacob who seemed to be somewhat lost inside his own head.

Tristan: "I hate to say this, but I'm suddenly glad I ran into you. At least you're quiet company if nothing else."

The briefest touch of a smile brushed Jacob's face before vanishing completely as his eyes skimmed over the crowd before he turned his attention back to the refreshment table. In that instant, he began to understand what James meant about him being like a 'stray kitten' to Emily. Still, he felt a rise of protectiveness -- the person in front of him was no kitten and perfectly capable of doing great harm, even if unintended. At the hospital Tristan had seen him put up an impressive fight against three men several times his size, he didn't want to think what sort of damage he could inflict on Emily.

Tristan had only begun to seek out a secluded corner to lurk in when Peterson's voice crackled over the speakers.

Chris: "I'm sure you all didn't come here tonight to listen to me talk, so I'm going to cut to the chase as it were. Our numbers are growing stronger. More and more of us are coming out of the shadows to live the way we were meant to live. True freedom begins in the realisation that we are no longer human, that we're better than human. Some of us struggle with this for decades, sometimes centuries, but what you need to realise is that the part of you that was human vanished upon your death. The thing that keeps you alive, that keeps you full of energy and vigor as the years go by, is the vampirism inside you. You shouldn't fear this or hide from it anymore than a tiger should fear its urge to hunt. We are, at the center of our beings, predators. We're not meant to live among them, we're meant to live off them, in the same way that they live off dinners of steak and potatoes. You don't see any of them trying to live amongst herds of cattle, do you? So why should we try to live in their world instead of creating a world of our own?"

A collective murmur of agreement rose up from the crowd, and Tristan felt a chill as Peterson turned his gaze directly on him.

Chris: "Humans are our prey -- why else would we be unable to sustain ourselves on pigs' or cows' blood? Why else would feeding on a human deliver so much more pleasure than just a simple glass of A-Positive? Some of our kindred have forgotten this -- think of them tonight as you partake in our monthly celebration."

Without another word, Chris had jumped down from the stage and was making his way back toward Tristan. He seemed indifferent to the cheers from the crowd.

Tristan: "Nice speech."
Chris: "I'm glad you liked it. I've brought you a little something else to enjoy this evening."
Tristan: "I'm sure you've got nothing to offer me that I could get any enjoyment out of."
Chris: "Are you always so quick to judge? You haven't even heard what I'm giving you."
Tristan: "Besides a raging headache from hearing your incessant babbling? Sorry, I don't think I particularly want anything from you. Well aside form maybe your eternal silence."

Tristan suddenly became acutely aware that a small crowd had gathered behind Chris, intently watching the exchange. There was and overriding sense of waiting, as though the night's events were finally preparing to start.

Chris: "I give you the gift of 'Bliss'."
Tristan: "Oh for fuck's sake, Peterson! You called me melodramatic?"

Chris flashed a brilliant smile, exposing sharp canines. In the blink of an eye he'd lunged forward and driven something tiny and sharp deep into his arm, but not before Tristan's fist connected solidly with Chris's face.

Tristan: "What the hell…?"

Within seconds Tristan felt his blood turn to ice water in his veins. Then came the heat, first starting at the point of injection and then working through every cell in his body. Memories and instincts awakened nearly instantly and simultaneously as a flood of euphoria overcame him. Chris stood over him, dabbing absently at a trickle of blood on his lower lip.

Chris: "Something about purified human blood proteins and the vampiric virus -- it was way over my head, but I know exactly how it makes you feel. Next time you could try the pill or powder version if the injection isn't quite your thing. Have a nice trip, my friend."

The ground started to rush toward him then, but stopped suddenly. He was peripherally aware that he was being led to a series of mismatched couches along the wall by a blur of neon blue and pink.

Tristan: "Candyfloss…"
Carlee: "No, my name's Carlee."
Tristan: "Something sweet. He wanted something sweet."
Carlee: "I'm plenty sweet, darling."

Tristan's mind struggled against an overwhelming current of intense ecstasy. The smallest part of him was aware that something was wrong, yet the majority of him didn't care, wanting only to drown in the pleasure of the burning lights and the flesh of the woman next to him.

He froze at the faintest flickering of movement out of the corner of his eye. Through his delirium, recognition clicked in and he stood up shakily.

He was driven forward on pure instinct -- the gangly creature ahead of him was a threat and needed to be stopped at all costs. He would hurt her in a thousand unimaginable ways, her pain forever branded to Tristan's soul if he failed her. He knew that her death would be a slow affair, its sweet release kept from her for as long as possible.