"Good night." Starsky said by way of greeting. "We will be taking supplement donations throughout the night. Therefore, should your ID be called, follow one of the guards in an orderly fashion. Enjoy the celebration." Her little speech was simple, straightforward, and lacking any character at all. It was beyond me what my brother actually saw in her. It must have been her power. In this place, Starsky was the big cheese, and an ambitious firsty like my brother would certainly notice the one in a powerful position.

After her lame speech, Starsky slipped from the room as gracefully as she had entered. She wasn't eager to be a part of our party. Who wants to watch their cattle drink? Apparently Hector was up for it. His eyes were on me again since there was no Starsky to admire.

Humph.

The superiors were opening boxes and setting bottles on tables, and the firsties dove in.

There were, in the least, ten types of drink to chose from, and I chose a strawberry flavored wine cooler.

I felt a peck on the back of my shoulder just as I was taking my first drink.

"Erm, Harper?" A timid someone said behind me.

I turned to the speaker as i wiped some of the fruity beverage off my chin, and found a youthful, brown-haired firsty peeking from beneath his lashes nervously. I couldn't match a name to his narrow face, or remember ever noticing him before.

"Yes?" I said.

"I just wanted to give you...well...here." He shoved a small package into my hands. "It's not much, but...happy birthday." He managed an awkward smile.

"How sweet." I said, somewhat puzzled, but not showing it. I beamed back confidently. "Thank you." I was being entirely sincere.

He nodded, a slight pinkish color in his cheeks. Automatically, I glanced around to make sure no superiors were noticing my blushing new acquaintance. They loved a rise in body heat. Thankfully, our group of guards were very professional. Not a single eye in the place was planted on us aside from Hector's, which I expected. He didn't appear very happy about the situation, but he made no move toward us, holding steady to his title of guard.

I freed the package of its wrapper, and inside was a heart. It was stained glass, glued together with a black substance that added to it's loveliness. The different shades of red, pink, and purple were lovely. It was hollow and fit in my hand like a softball would. If I sat it on a shelf, it would stay at an angle, looking over the room with it's beauty.

"Thank you." I uttered. "It's beautiful."

"I-I thought of you when I was making it." He said nervously.

"How did you make it?" I asked, thinking that was a better, kinder question than, "who are you?"

"Glass craft. My father taught me." He said simply. He rubbed a hand through his brown tresses, looking down at his feet.

"It's amazing."

"Dusty!" My brother yelled from the far side of the room, where the alcohol was sitting in front of him on a table. He held up two drinks as if to say, "which one?"

My new friend jerked his head toward my brother. "Just a sec, dude." He said.

So he knew my brother? How was it possible that he knew Skip, but I'd never noticed him before? Surely they spoke...then again, I usually kept my head down and noticed near to no-one. Besides that, my brother had a life separate from my own - even if we were locked in this building together.

The boy, Dusty, spared an apologetic glance at me, a slight grin and shrug. "See ya later?" He asked. I nodded, unsure of what else I should do, then he went to my brother.

I can't say I was sad to see him go. I felt sorry for the boy. He cared enough to make this amazing piece of art for me, and I hadn't even known his name, or even that he was apparently Skip's friend. Furthermore I knew what his gesture meant...and I was equally aware that I would never be able to return his affections. There was no way I would fall in love, marry someone in this place, and doom my own children to this type of life.

"I'll take that, dear." My mother said, lifting the heart from my hand. I let her. "You go mingle. Have fun." With a huge smile, she nudged me. "It's your party."

I didn't do much mingling - it's hard to be social when you were locked up so often, but I did drink more wine coolers. I decided I didn't like them much after the second, but I kept going because my mother promised they tasted better the more you drank. She was wrong. By the fifth, they still tasted horrible, and the urge to visit the ladies room grew and grew with each drink.

The good thing about the ladies room is that the superiors never went in them, even the cleaning of them was done by firsties as one of their chores. The superiors never had reason to go in, and viewed the rooms as disgusting, reeking of firsty wastes.

I relieved myself in peace - the first moment of peace I'd felt that night without the eyes of Hector on my movements.

I flushed the toilet and started to open the stall door, but as soon as I unlatched it, it flew open. To my surprise, Hector was on the other side, and he entered the small space with me, latching the door back.

I was startled, but I made no display of it. I didn't want to excite him more than he already looked. That goofy, mischievous grin I was getting too familiar with was already present. The alcohol in my system made it a lot easier to push away the worries I had of being in a tiny space with a blood sucking creature.

"What are you doing in here? Superiors never come in here." I reminded him.

"Who was that human boy?" He asked. The term "human" wasn't as foreign to me as it could have been, I'd never heard anyone in the compound aside from Gramma that used the word - certainly never around the superiors. They hated to be reminded of the old days when firsties ran everything, and those kinds of words were sure reminders.

"Just a friend." I gave a coy grin. Let him take that any way he wants. I was feeling brave to tease him so openly. More than likely a feat of the drink. Somewhere in my mind was saying it was what he deserved for staring at Starsky the way he did. Then another part of me shouted that it didn't matter what way he looked at anyone because he was a superior and I was not, nor would I ever be.

"I hate him." He said with malice, and almost as an after thought, "can I kill him?" He brightened at the thought.

Okay, it's not such a good idea to tease a superior. I thought.

"You see, that's the problem with you vampires-"

"Vampire? A human hasn't called me that in over thirty years." He chuckled.

We were much too close; his scent - embers and sandalwood - was overwhelming. He smelled of fire, a fire like the one he was awakening in me with his unusually near proximity. It was desire...but that's not right. I hate superiors. I hate their predator eyes and their unreal good-looks. I hate their carelessness and their frightening super strength. I thought. I hated how small the stall was and how his hard chest pressed against my soft, fragile, human one. Hated the way his smirking lips were centimeters from mine; how his breath smelled so sickeningly sweet. Why was my body betraying me?!

"Thirty-some years...so-so you're not new?" I said grasping to fight whatever odd urge had overcome me. Trying to block the audacious thoughts about those lips that played in my head. His fangs extended as I stared. I took half a step back to try and broaden the space between us, but my back hit the side of the metal stall.

"No." He whispered. So close! My brain screamed. In one swift motion I was off the ground with my back pressing even harder against the side of the stall. Hector held me up, one hand on my bottom, the other around my waist. instinctively, my legs wrapped around him. My hands found comfort in the soft, thick locks of his hair. I told myself it was so I would easily be able to pull his head away, if he got too happy with the fangs, but maybe my hands had other ideas; they seemed to want to pull him closer. He was trailing a soft line with his dangerous lips, along my collarbone. I was frozen, and for a second I wondered if I was imagining it all.

The hand left my bottom and he ripped away my choker necklace, letting it fall to the floor like he'd freed me of a merely troublesome restraint. I made the weakest sound of protest, but it faded as he replaced the choker with his mouth. He didn't bite, or lick, or even kiss. He just put his lips on me, feathery-light pressure, just enough to make me anticipate more, good or bad. His hand went to my thigh, where my dress had rode up, and I could feel the coolness of his touch on my warm skin. It sent exciting shivers all the way through to my bones, and almost like he could feel it, too, he pulled me closer to him. Holy- what was happening to me?

"Your face haunts my thoughts, Harper. I could just kill you and be done with it. I'd never have to think of you again, never have to want you again." He whispered against my neck.

"P-please..." Was I begging for mercy or begging him to get it over with? I couldn't think; he was intoxicating all of my senses.

"Or I could make love to you right now, do things to you that will make you think of me like I think of you. I could satisfy you so thoroughly, it would make you obsessed."

It wasn't a threat. Everything about him told me it was true.

"I could get lost in you for hours, Harper." He growled seductively against my skin.

I felt his lips part against my neck, a cool moistness caressing my tender flesh - and everything went black.