Bites stung and ached before bruising over, leaving scabs that no one can erase. The wounds wouldn't go away. Jane reached up to touch hers, feeling the two marks that had changed her life forever. Her fingers trembled and Jane gripped them tightly together, balling her hands into fists and she held them down by her side. Eugene hadn't made it through the fight—he wasn't going to be there again. She wouldn't see his face again, feel his warmth, listen to the sound of his voice rising and falling as he told her jokes to make her laugh. Their hands would never touch as he handed her a drink and he'd never run his fingers through the stray ends of her hair. He'd never laugh, never smile, never breathe again.

He'd died for the second time.

Jane didn't know whether to mourn him or be happy in the knowledge that he wasn't one of them anymore. A creature that lived off of others, living off blood, bleeding out the night just to live in an unforgiving world of hatred that constantly sought to destroy them. Days had passed and it still killed her. Time wasn't on her side. Nothing was. She could go or stay.

Jane could live or die.

Neither sounded right.

Neither could be right.

It wouldn't have worked between us even if he lived, she tried to tell herself. He wasn't a Flynn Rider and I wasn't a Rapunzel. We were just friends...even if I may have wanted more than that. It's too late now anyways. He was dead yet he haunted her memory. He was dead and yet he wasn't.

Jane sighed to herself and went outside—leaving the coven of vampires to deal with themselves. She needed time alone. To breathe. To feed, too, as her stomach hadn't been full in days. Not since Eugene died. She could barely stomach the small amounts of blood they tried to force her to. Every time one of them brushed against her she screamed internally. They wanted her to be one of them. To accept her fate.

It wasn't something she could do.

To the outside she went, her body relishing in the chill of air that kissed her skin in ways no human ever could. Her white shirt seemed to glow in the dark and she moved freely despite wearing skinny jeans. As her heels tapped against the ground she looked up, at the moon that was hidden by clouds. It was only a sliver, a waxing moon, and she wondered if the man in the moon knew her sorrows.

The man in the moon disappeared, leaving her only looking at gray clouds against a black night. The city lights blocked out all stars anyways so she looked back to the world, her head moving, turning, taking in the familiar sights of a world that knew her yet didn't. I don't even know myself anymore. Who am I? Who is Jane Bruno?

Is she the cop that spares nothing to do her job, to protect people, to follow the rules she knows best? The girl who loves alcohol and spends her days longing for another drink?

Or is she the vampire who takes lives, who fought for a clan she doesn't truly love, who loved a man name Eugene who told her to accept her fate? The girl who's only thirst comes for that of a substance she'd rather die than drink.

Blinking, she was both. One eye saw the world in black and whites, the other saw colors not known to man. Everything inside her burned with a passion that she couldn't deny. I am a cop. She continued moving through the night. I am a monster. Then, she stopped, looking down at her still shaking hands. I lost my job, surely. I cannot be a cop. I saved lives, surely. I cannot be a monster.

As she walked the shadows of night parted beside her. Things scurried away. No one was out but if they were, surely they wouldn't have walked beside her. Who could? When one didn't know themselves did others trust them? Do I trust myself to be around people? I don't want to kill...yet I must, right? The only way to live is to kill? It didn't feel right. There had to be another way to obtain blood without killing. To live without taking.

The night took form and called out to her, "Bruno! Come here."

She followed, having heard that voice before. They're a vampire, right? I've heard them. She moved without sound all except her heels, which refused to do anything but clank against the street, signaling to all that she was there.

"What do you want?"

"It's not what I want..."

"Oh, we're pulling that cliché line?" she said with a sigh while running a hand through her hair. "Okay, drama queen, what is it that I want?"

He held up a lock of golden blonde hair—Monica's. As though reading her mind, he said her name, whispering it into the air and letting it linger between them. His fangs protruded, yellowed and stained with old blood. Jane didn't need more words. There wasn't a need for pointless dialogue that only looked pretty. So she held up her hand and asked, "Did you bite her?

"

He shook his head no.

"Is she alive?"

The man grinned, pulling out his phone to show her a video. Monica was sleeping, her chest rising and falling evenly, yet she was tied up. The man again held up the strand of hair for Jane to see. There was no doubt in her mind that the man held her sister captive. I've got to do as he says.

Letting it drop to the ground, he snarled, "Leave the clan."

"Done."

"Never return."

"Done."

He smiled, pressing a button. The phone rang in the open night before someone picked up, speaking in a language she hadn't heard before. One word she could pick up, however. "No." He was stopping something. Stopping her death? Stopping torture?Jane didn't need to know what. I'm leaving the clan and they won't touch Monica. All she needed to know was that her sister would be okay. This vampire had to be from a rival clan—he probably found out about her through her past job. Surely they went looking for her, yet she was hidden with the clan. No more, apparently. Now was time for Jane to survive on her own. Time for her to find herself.

Monica will be okay. "If you hurt her," she warned, but the guy only waved a hand at her.

"I promise not to touch your sister," he said.

I guess this is it. She walked away without another word. Away from him, away from the clan, away from everything she thought she knew or had control over. The world was tilting, turning beside itself, and Jane Bruno walked on.