Hot Tip

[pinkroses]

Murphy didn’t struggle as Lazarus transported him to the bed, all resistance had seeped out of him with his blood as Lazarus had drunk. He wanted to curl up and roll onto his side to try to ease the pain, but with Lazarus beside and above him he couldn’t figure it out in his hazy state, confused by the sudden soft touches.

Lazarus’ words made their way through and Murphy frowned, blinking against the blood which had dribbled from his eyebrow into his eye. Show yourself? He could hardly move, he was pretty sure he’d punctured a lung, he wasn’t going to survive to get to show off anything to Ben or Jake. The only mercy now would be snapping his neck like he’d threatened at first.

Oh

Was this his mercy?

Murphy couldn’t stop the first gush of blood pouring into his mouth and he swallowed it with another cough – it was either that or choke. He wanted to turn his face away, but he found himself unable to.

“Should… Ben should…” Murphy mumbled against Lazarus’ wound, but he couldn’t get out anything else or even finish forming the thoughts. Fuck, that tasted good. His whole body ached, but that delicious blood was a relief, a point of light in the darkness. Murphy drank eagerly, lifting his right hand to clasp at Lazarus’ arm, urging him to keep that source of nourishment close (although he wouldn’t be able to stop Lazarus if the blonde chose to move).

[Trillian]

"That's right little bird, heal your broken wings," Lazarus said, then the sourness of the metaphor behind his words twisted his mouth into a grimace as Murphy drank. This little idiot would be a powerful fledge and fucking hard to control. He might even be as powerful as Ben, who wasn't even yet ten. That would fix that little fuckface and his ambition. Make him jealous.

And Jake, this would ruin it for Jake, who wouldn't be able to keep this boy, who would smell of Lazarus and have his blood. Fledges sired by Ancients usually creeped out other vampires - they would feel both young and old at the same time. If Jake kept Murphy in his bed, he would feel that. Feel Lazarus between them. He would have to end things between them eventually, to keep his sanity.

Last. Fucking. Laugh.

He grunted as Murphy started taking more back from him than what was given. He looked at the youth - the fledgling, now, because he could feel him - at his rosy cheeked pallour, at his healthy hold, at his face without wounds and no longer needing breath (except for talking) but that lung and rib would be healed anyway.

He waited until Murphy's grip on him was iron and then he swatted the fledgling away (with some difficulty) and moved back. He would want to drink more blood soon, blood that didn't belong to a sire, to support his change. He would do that alone. Lazarus moved to where Murphy had dropped his stuff. He was looking for the journalists carkeys, so he could take his car and drive the fuck out of here. Murphy was now a brand new GPS, and Lazarus only had six hours of driving to get somewhere fast. His celerity wouldn't last for that long.

[pinkroses]

His pain faded away as he drank, breathing became easier, until he stopped without realising he had. All of his aches disappeared gradually, but the focus of the blood he was drinking took away from any relief he would have felt from the pain seeping away.

When Lazarus batted him away Murphy grunted in protest, trying to grab again at that hand, that source of blood, which was already healing up and disappearing. He sat up quickly as Lazarus moved back and stood, stepping towards his sire, brushing the back of his hand against his mouth as he could feel blood drying there. The skin on his face felt stiff, but from dirt and blood, not pain any more.

He felt fucking amazing physically, but his gut twisted as he stared at Lazarus, rooting through his bag. His keys would be found before long, but Murphy didn’t stop to wonder what Lazarus was looking for as he felt a swell of rage. Yes, he'd wanted to be sired, but not by this monster. He was supposed to be connected to Ben, not Ben's tormentor.

“You shit, you absolute fucking son of a bitch!” Murphy said, starting low but ending in a yell as he moved quickly towards Lazarus, reaching out to shove him with all his strength.

[Trillian]

Lazarus wasn't ready for the attack, but as an afterthought he should've been. He stumbled sideways and then laughed hollowly even as he gripped Murphy by the throat, the fledgling still slow like a human, still able to be broken.

"Yes, I am a piece of shit, and you belong to me now, even when I'm not around, which I won't be. You take your pretty self," he had to stop talking in order to hold Murphy all the way out, extending his arm, because the bastard was still struggling and kicking and the blows were annoying. He shook his fledgling and his fingers bit into his neck painfully. "Do you feel that need in your body? That strange empty feeling? You'll have a full blown desire soon to fill that emptiness with blood. You'll be a mindless beast without it. So stop fighting me and look for someone or something to feed from, then you take your pretty self to Ben and Jake, and let them help you, and let them be angry for you, and let them know I fucking had the last word."

He threw Murphy across the room, making sure he would bounce on the bed first before he went tumbling over. No point making more loud noise. The shout might've woken some people up. He searched the bag again and found the keys. Good.

He headed for Murphy's car.

[pinkroses]

Murphy struggled against Lazarus’ grasp, panicking at the tight grip on his throat and being lifted by it, even though he didn’t need to breathe – that hadn’t quite registered in his mind yet. The pain was there, not as bad as when his bone had been breaking but the hold was still making his eyes widen. Murphy’s legs stopped kicking and he clawed at Lazarus’ hand as his sire spoke of that need growing inside him, still trying to gasp and getting no air. He could already feel it building, Murphy had obviously known that would be a part of it, but he was supposed to be prepared.

The names Lazarus spoke, Jake and Ben, got through and stilled him – all of this was because of them. Lazarus had bonded them together forever because of revenge, over something he had fucking done.

Murphy couldn’t make any response though, so Lazarus did get the last word before Murphy found himself flying across the room, bouncing on the bed then falling off the other side and hitting into the wall, all with a distinct lack of grace. He lay for a moment, one leg still half on the bed, clutching at his throat. Any bruises were already starting to fade and he quickly realised that the breathing wasn’t necessary.

He stared at the ceiling, recognising the growing feeling of loss as Lazarus moved away, which increased as the car door slammed, the engine turned on and Lazarus headed off down the highway. A wave of loneliness swept over the fledgling and Murphy rolled over onto his hands and knees, trying to wrap his head around it all. He knew exactly what had happened, but that didn’t make it easier to believe.

Lazarus had been right, the desire was growing, he needed to feed, and soon. Murphy knew the basics, but being bitten, hearing about it, reading about it… he was intelligent enough to know actually doing it would be completely different to all of that.

He stumbled towards his bag by the door, trying to ignore the sounds of the building around him, trying to ignore the parts of his mind that were seeking out a heartbeat, and the part which was reaching out for Lazarus.

“Please, please, please,” he mumbled to himself, rummaging through until he found his phone, feeling a wave of relief that Lazarus hadn’t stolen or smashed it. Murphy rocked back on his heels, quickly flicking through the numbers as he rubbed his hand through his hair.

His first instinct was to call Ben. They had discussed siring, Kerr was experienced with fledglings, hell, he had two relatively young ones still. But Ben’s words echoed in his mind – Ben didn’t need a little bird to look after.

Jake? Lazarus had smelt Jake on him instantly, now he had the ancient’s blood flowing through his veins. Jake wasn’t properly recovered from what Lazarus had done to him – Murphy didn’t want to see him right now, they both had enough to deal with, without adding each other's problems on top.

His's attention was caught as he heard another car door slam and Murphy crept closer to the motel room door, still on his knees, the hand holding his phone dropping to his side as he pressed the other to the thin material of the door. It was one person, heavy footed. Murphy stood and moved to the window, peering through the blinds. Lazarus was definitely long gone, replaced by a man who was carrying a paper bag which clinked slightly to show there were bottles inside. He was big, maybe… maybe he would be ok. But he looked strong and Murphy doubted he’d be strong enough to force him, and he had no idea how to use any sort of mental powers on him. Maybe he could wait til he was sleeping… or find someone already sleeping. That would be faster, he could find one of those easily here at this time. He could just break in (putting no thought into how he’d suddenly get these master robber skills), bite gently, drink a little, then stop. Right? Oh, and heal them. And not bleed them dry. Simple.

His mouth was starting to water just thinking about it and he’d stopped focusing on the man in the parking lot, who had just shut and locked his motel door behind him. Murphy blinked, trying to focus on what he needed to do again and glanced down at the phone in his hand. Anyone who would come to his aid was too far to get there before he’d have to feed.

Shit.

He lit up the screen again, blinking at the birghtness until he stopped at a number and instinctively pressed to call it, pacing across the room as he did so.

"Please pick up," he whispered, surprised at the croakiness in his voice after Lazarus's squeeze - but it was better than it had been and would be back to normal in next to no time. As soon as they picked up the phone Murphy sat on the edge of the bed, his body tense.

"Hey, it's Murphy. I need help, please."

[Existentially Odd]

Luck was finally going Murphy's way because Jeanne re-entered her office just as her phone started ringing. She raised an eyebrow when she picked it up from her desk, not recognising the number. "Bonsoir, Jeanne speaking."

"Hey, it's Murphy. I need help, please."

Jeanne frowned, detecting a queer quality in the reporter's voice that had nothing to do with the panic he appeared to be fighting off. At his first words, she was held immobile, unable to process what she heard.

"Lazarus attacked me. He turned me and now... I'm so thirsty and I... it's, he left me. He, he's gone, how do I... ? I don't know what to do!" he implored.

As his story unfolded, she moved. She grabbed her bag and keys and hastened through the club in a blur undetectable by the security cameras and unnoticed by the mortal population. Her fellow kindred would sense her imposing presence as she passed but they might also find it challenging to hold her fifteen hundred year old figure in sight. She reached her car in a blink, surprising her driver when she appeared at the rear passenger door and rapped gently on the window. The driver put her book down on the seat beside her and leapt out of the front to open Jeanne's door just as she asked her first question.

"Where are you?" she demanded, pulling the phone away from her ear and putting it on speaker long enough for the driver to hear 'Harrow's Motel' and some garbled directions about how Murphy had left the city and reached his current location. The driver nodded, opened her door and closed it behind her once she'd slid onto the back seat. The car moved with impressive conviction, even though Jeanne could see the driver still looking up an exact location on her phone. She paid little attention as she tapped the phone off speaker and held it to her ear once more.

"Murphy?" she crooned, her voice gentle in an attempt to comfort him. If he truly had been fledged, he'd hear the sincerity in her tone, the vibrato of her concern for his welfare. "Listen to me. Focus on my voice," she told him, hoping the rhythm of her accent would help bewitch him, as many had claimed she'd done to them in the past. The throaty quality of the French tongue had beguiled countless foreigners throughout history, surely it could work for her on one terrified newling vampire when she needed it to? "You will be alright," she purred. "I'm coming to you, Murphy. My car is on its way. I'll be there very soon. Maintenant, you said Lazarus left you? Are you in a motel room? Where are you exactement?"

[pinkroses]

Murphy wanted to sob with joy as Jeanne picked up. He’d been terrified that if she hadn’t that he wouldn’t have bothered calling anyone else, he’d just have gone to find sustenance. He could trust Jeanne, the Sacramentum, they’d know what to do. They had taken in fledgling’s before, they had resources, they had looked after enough fledgling’s. She would know what to do.

He pulled his legs up onto the bed, wrapping one arm around his knees as the other clutched his phone to his ear and he tried to explain as succinctly as possible what had happened. Murphy could hear down the phone the car starting to move within a few seconds and that was a relief, but he knew vaguely how long it had taken him to get to the motel and it felt like he couldn’t wait that long.

“Ok,” he said quietly, the despair audible in his voice as she told him to focus on her voice. God, he was trying so hard, but Lazarus’ words about that hollowness inside needing filling were still echoing in his mind and proving themselves true.

“Yes, he’s gone, I can feel he’s, yeah, gone,” he said, stumbling over his words and trying not to think about that connection with Lazarus.

“I’m… uh, I’m in room 6, just sitting here, but I need to find something to eat. There’s people here, I can feel them, hear them.” Murphy hardly noticed he’d moved to the door of the motel again until his hand was on the doorknob, squeezing it tightly.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. Jeanne, there’s someone by themselves just two doors down. I don’t know if I can wait.”

[Existentially Odd]

Jeanne hadn't been new for millennia but she recalled the thirst of which Murphy spoke. She'd felt it somewhat recently, vicariously, when she'd made Taylor (and didn't the thought of him still cause a twinge of deep, bitter regret?). It was unquenchable and would seem insurmountable to this youngling, left alone and traumatised as he wa.

In such a state, feeding would soothe him but if he truly didn't want to hurt anyone, it would be dangerous.

"If you begin drinking from a mortal, you're going to find it nearly impossible to stop. You will very likely hurt them and probably kill them. It's risky. People are not your only choice, however. There will be animals around; a stray dog or cat would provide you with some relief, until I get there to supervise you. What do you think of that idea?" she suggested.

Personally, she'd never been averse to animal blood. She preferred sheep but there would be none of those where Murphy was. The fur would be a hindrance, as would finding a vein but he surely wouldn't be as concerned about killing a dog as a human? He could rip it apart and pour its blood down his throat, if need be. She licked her lips, her mouth watering at the thought.

[pinkroses]

 “Mm,” Murphy murmured non-committedly. Her words made sense, but he was finding it difficult to focus on them.

“An animal, yeah, ok, I… I can try that, I guess,” Murphy said, forcing himself to pick out a few of her words and cling to them. Killing an animal that he’d find around here didn’t sound too enjoyable either, but it would be better than a human.

He began to open the door, then hesitated before dropping down to rummage through his bag. Murphy pulled out a pair of wireless headphones, slipping them into his ears and turning them on so he’d be able to hear Jeanne without needing to hold his phone, then pulled his bag over his shoulder again. If Jeanne arrived he wanted to just be able to leave here without needing to come back and simple things like fastening the catch gave him something to think about for the tiniest fraction of time before the gnawing hunger tugged at him again. 

Murphy slowly opened the door and slipped out into the parking lot.

“I shouldn’t go far,” he said quietly into the mouthpiece attached to the headphones, really speaking out loud more than to Jeanne. If he went far she wouldn’t be able to find him so easily, but he couldn’t see or hear any animals nearby. “Oh, there’s a diner down there, maybe there’ll be something around there,” he said hopefully, beginning to jog in the direction of the faded sign.

If no animal then someone shutting up, someone alone.

Avoiding the front door and windows (partly so he’d find it harder to know if there was anyone inside) Murphy headed for the back of the diner where the bins would be.

“There’s a dog,” he whispered, feeling like he should be repelled at the thought but seeing the dog there, rooting through a bag of garbage which hadn’t quite made it into the bin. Murphy stepped quietly, the predator inside keeping him as quiet as possible – which wasn’t all that necessary at the dog was pretty focused on chewing on a disguarded burger.

With Jeanne’s guidance in his ear, Murphy grabbed the animal with a growl, trying to find a vein in its neck then giving up and ripping viciously to let the hot blood flow. The dog gave a small, single yelp of surprise, but was quickly silenced. Having never had human blood, he had nothing to compare it to, so didn’t turn his nose up at it like some vampires would. After the first initial attempted bites Murphy made no attempt to be tidy and he guzzled at the blood, drinking deeply. It wasn’t a big animal, so it wouldn’t last long, but the instant relief it granted felt like heaven.

“What the fuck?!”

Murphy froze at the exclamation from the human who had left the diner through the backdoor, another bag of rubbish in one hand and a big selection of keys in the other. How had he not heard him approaching?

Without standing up Murphy laid down the recently departed dog and swivelled on the balls of his feet, not wanting to look too scary despite what he’d just been doing. Unfortunately he’d forgotten that there was sticky blood still remaining from the cut that had been on his eyebrow, and the blood around his mouth which had escaped when Lazarus has been feeding him and from feeding on the dog. In the dim light the human wouldn’t be able to see that his previously hazel eyes were now a glinting golden colour, but there was plenty else to let him know that the scene in front of him was fucked up.

The human’s heart was pounding as they stared at each other. The dog blood had quietened him enough that Murphy didn’t want to instantly leap at him, but his mouth watered at the scent of the human.

“Jeanne?” he breathed, his mouth hardly moving and unsure of whether she’d heard the sound of the human down the phone. Before she was able to respond though, the human moved, hurling the bag of rubbish towards the fledgling. Murphy snarled and shoved the bag aside, splitting it in the process as he ran towards the young man, barely out of his teens. The kid had been reached for the door handle when Murphy slammed into him, lacking control as he pressed his face against the metal door with one hand and pinning him with his body.

“What do I do with him?” Murphy asked Jeanne, although to the wriggling human he would sound like he was talking to himself. He wasn’t talking about whether or not to let him go, right now that didn’t seem like an option. His hunger was back, as though the dog had just been an appetiser.

[Existentially Odd]

Jeanne was relieved when the dog was found but that feeling was short-lived. She heard the human's exclamation travel clearly along the phone signal and knew that Murphy was about to face his greatest challenge.

Drive faster, she bade her driver mentally, knowing the instruction was futile without her intervention. I'll get us through and hide us. It would tax her, but she had the ability to mentally scan the minds of the drivers on the road ahead of them, seeking thoughts of notice and patterns distinctive to Police officers for up to two kilometre ahead. She linked in with her driver's mind, allowing her to see the way Jeanne was influencing drivers travelling in their direction to pull over and let them pass. The one speed trap they passed ignored them completely as they sped by.

Of course, that all made it quite difficult to think and give cohesive advice. She wished Charon was with her; not only was he Murphy's biggest fan, his range of influence was far greater than hers. It would've given them a larger buffer from danger. Ah well, if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride. It was all on her to help and, as she heard bangs and the thump of bodies colliding against each other and a door, she began to calculate faster.

Murphy would drink. It would be excruciating for him to stop. He was brand new. His sire was decidedly not. Time to experiment.

"Are you facing him?" she asked, only to be told that he was behind the mortal, pinning him to a door. "It is a shame you can't look into his eyes but this position is fine. You will be able to bite him on the neck from behind but not yet. First, I want you to think of a song. It can be any song - a nursery rhyme, a ballad, a pop song - as long as it is soothing. It must be a quiet song, Murphy. Next... are you listening carefully? Good, next, I need you to project that song into his mind. This is a rudimentary skill and you should be able to do it. Your goal has to be to calm him and if you overpower him with a song you're singing in your head, I believe it will achieve this same principle. Now, go. Think your song - and your desire for him to be calm and quiet - at him," she instructed, her voice raised in a triumph she didn't feel, just yet.

She needed to sound convincing, though. Any lack of belief she displayed would undermine her conviction and his ability to do what she wanted. Theoretically, an Ancient's childe was extra powerful. She was wagering that it was enough to be able to Dominate in a minor way and an obfuscatory song should be crude but effective... she hoped. At the very least, it would allow Murphy to concentrate on something other than his worries about feeding, to get out of his own head enough for his slightly advanced vampire skills to kick in instinctively and have the necessary influence on the situation. "Tell me when he's subdued." If it worked, the next step was the bite... and letting go, after that.

[pinkroses]

Murphy winced as Jeanne told him not to bite, but at least she wasn’t telling him to back off. He really didn’t think he’d be able to for anything in the world at that moment.

“What?” he tried to interrupt when she began to speak about thinking of a song, not seeing where she was going with it, but her French tone was commanding and he fell silent, more willing to listen properly now he had a live body ripe for taking in his arms.

A song, a song, any song, a quiet song. Murphy felt a surge of panic, suddenly unable to think of any quiet songs. Something calming, peaceful, soothing. But she was starting to move onto other instructions, fuck.

Suddenly he remembered a song one of his friends at college had told him off for playing whilst she drove as it was one of her ‘sleeping’ songs and he gave a smile, dropping his head forward in relief, meaning he got a stronger scent of the young man pinned in front of him. Murphy hissed at him to shut up, sensing that he was probably going to start shouting once the surprise of being attacked wore off. To be honest, he was surprised that he was still able to hold him, but put it down to adrenaline. What was he doing? Feeding? Oh, no, that song, the first line:

You’re not worth it babe,

Fitting for the pawn. Maybe the words weren’t that soothing, but he could just think of the tune maybe.

“Got it,” Murphy said with a nod she wouldn’t be able to see, but her next words did nothing to calm him.

“What?” He repeated with a frown. “It’s been, like, twenty minutes, that’s not a rudimentary skill,” Murphy said, the disbelief obvious in his voice. He’d not heard anything about fledges being turned by ancients having greater powers initially so her confidence seemed misplaced.

Jeanne was insistent though, and he’d not actually been trained or learned which skills came first or most easily, so what choice did he have? He had to trust her.

Murphy bit down on his own lip to distract his mouth from wanting to bite on the throbbing, hot neck in front of him as he began to run through the tune of Kelly Clarkson’s Chivas in his mind, whilst willing him to quieten and stop wriggling. Jeanne would hear the occasional couple of notes escape in a hum from the back of his throat.

Please be quiet, please be still. He found himself  thinking those words over and over in tune with the song, rather than the right words.

He was nearing the end of the song by the time the youngster stilled in his arms and his pleas to be let go quietened to nothing. He didn’t droop like he’d lost consciousness, he was just… peaceful. Calm. Like he was sleeping, but able to hold himself up.

“It… it worked. I think it’s worked,” Murphy said, a note of glee and definite triumph in his voice, matching the fake tone Jeanne had been putting on. He glanced around, half expecting to see someone there he could celebrate with, but there was no one there. This was not how it was supposed to be.

But at least there wasn’t anyone else in sight to interrupt them.

Murphy turned his golden eyes back to the boy in front of him and he dropped the hand which was pressing the human’s face against the door to stroke at his throat. He could feel the throbbing artery under his fingertips and wet his lips. Murphy turned the human around and leant against him. There was still heat in his own body so it wasn’t that he was craving, but now they were face to face Murphy could feel his heart beating in his chest

“Can I bite now?” he pleaded, “I can feel his heart. I’m facing him now.” He could feel his excitement rising and tried to remind himself to think of the song and those calming words so that he wouldn’t lose the affect.

[Existentially Odd]

"Not yet!" she told the fledgling urgently - if only to force him to wait a little longer. The car was well past halfway but there was still too much road between her and this youngling who didn't wish to murder his first drink; any advantage or delay she could eke out of him would benefit him in the long run.

"You said you could see him now. I want you to look at his face. You are hungry but he is a person. He was going about his life just as you were tonight. Neither of you expected to die. This has changed for you, we cannot do anything about that now," she admitted mournfully, "but this... this is in your power to control. Look at him. Look at his face. He listens to you sing your song and he is quiet for you. He trusts you. You must remember this. You don't want to hurt him, you just want to drink and let him go. Think your song. Look at his face. Drink and let him go. This is what you will do, when I tell you," she said sternly, doing her best to exert any influence she could muster and send it down the line to the childe.

Her talents weren't as effective at a distance and she couldn't say she'd ever tried to persuade over a phone line but her voice vibrated with a command that all kindred understood. It was the tenor of great age and power, a form of dominance exerted through willpower and timbre, a thunderous roar of command hidden in a velveteen whisper. Every word she spoke to him was designed to drop straight into the suggestible parts of his brain and bend him to her will. Since she wasn't trying to get him to do anything against his will and desire, she anticipated that it would work - unless the phone sapped all the nuance from her voice and delivered nothing but a two dimensional sound equivalent to that of a mortal. She wouldn't really know until it was time for Murphy to disengage.

"First. Are you holding him firmly? Is he still and secure? If he resists you, he will tear away, you will open his throat, he will die. You do not wish him to die, so hold him firmly. Second. Put your lips to his throat and feel his pulse in them. DO NOT BITE, YET. You must slide your lips back, behind the pulse, because when you bite, your fangs will naturally move forward and find the right place. You may not do it correctly the first time. He may cry out in pain, be prepared for this. Third. When I tell you, you will stop drinking, do you understand? D'accord, feel for his pulse and bite him carefully," she instructed. It was very difficult to know what was going on and she wasn't sure she'd know when to tell him to stop. The best she could do was mime the act and time it herself, hoping he'd tell her if any delays occurred.

She could feel his eagerness, even over the phone.

[pinkroses]

Murphy gave a frustrated groan as she told him to wait, but he followed her instructions. His face had got close to the young man’s throat, so when she told him to look at his face Murphy had to straighten up and take half a step backwards to look at him properly. His green eyes looked calm now, his chin had the lightest brush of a five‘o’clock shadow, a fuzz which couldn’t quite be called stubble. His blonde hair looked messy and sweaty, he’d probably been wearing a hat whilst he worked. He was probably younger than Murphy had been when he’d discovered vampires existed. Murphy’s own stubble was covered in blood currently, giving him a suitably terrifying look for what he’d become.

“What’s your name?” Murphy asked, willing the human to stay calm as he answered.

“Andy,” the youth replied and Murphy gave a small nod. Andy. Just a kid doing his job, who found a monster outside as he was trying to close up the diner. He smelt of grease and burgers, fries and a hint of coffee. She was right, there was trust in his eyes now, not that fear that had been there when he’d first seen Murphy.

Andy, you’re going to be ok. He added the extra thought into the mental repetition and praying he wasn’t lying.

Murphy let Jeanne’s commanding tone seep into his mind. He desperately wanted to follow her orders, but it was still distracting, knowing that in a moment he would have his first taste of human blood, the thing his body was craving most in this world.

As Jeanne told him to hold tight, Murphy first rearranged his earbuds, making sure they were in securely so they wouldn’t be dislodged. Fuck, her words were terrifying. Yes, he’d just killed that dog by ripping out his throat, but this was a person, this was Andy. Green eyes, blonde hair, a couple of acne scars on his cheek and that fuzz that in later years would become proper stubble.

As long as he didn’t kill him tonight.

“Yes, I’m holding him,” Murphy said, stepping close again to pin Andy to the door, copying Lazarus by gripping Andy’s hair and urging him to tilt his head to one side as his other arm wrapped around his body, pinning Andy’s arm to his side. He gently kissed Andy’s neck, in a gentle manner learnt from Ben and Jake, feeling for that pulse he’d felt with his fingertips moments earlier.

Stay quiet,  stay calm, you’re ok, you’ll be ok, stay quiet, stay calm, you’re ok, you’ll be ok. He repeated it over and over in his mind.

“OK, I’m going to do it,” Murphy told Jeanne. He was excited, but also terrified. He wanted to bite and feed, but knowing when to stop… fuck.

Timidly, Murphy bit down, tightening his grip on Andy’s hair. Although he was holding on and thought he was prepared, he could still feel him flinch and it only took a second to realise he wasn’t quite in the right spot. There was just a tiny bit of blood from the puncture which Murphy eagerly lapped up, but it wasn’t enough. He felt a rush a panic, and it was audible in his voice.

“It wasn’t right, I didn’t get it right,” Murphy said, a higher pitch to his voice which Andy obviously picked up on as he suddenly gave a struggle. Luckily Murphy’s teeth weren’t still in his neck. “Stop, no, calm, quiet,” the fledgling pleaded, holding Andy as still as he could and thinking through the song again, trying to repeat the calming mantra along with it. As Andy tried to push away from the door Murphy shoved him heavily back into it, his hands trembling  as he projected the song into Andy’s mind, gazing into those green eyes as he did so. That seemed to help and Andy stilled more quickly this time.

“Fuck, okay, I’m going to try again,” Murphy said, but he hesitated for a moment. “Are you close?” he asked, waiting for Jeanne’s response before he leant in again, running his lips across Andy’s throat. He could feel where he’d bitten before, just a scratch, not hitting any proper blood vessels, but it helped him work out a little better where he needed to bite to do it properly.

This time Andy let out a quiet whimper and tensed up in Murphy’s arms, but he wasn’t able to flinch. Murphy gave a happy sounding groan as the hot blood hit his mouth and he drank eagerly, gulping it down. Andy’s sound of pain had faded now and Murphy felt him relax in his arms. He hadn’t even considered the different reactions human had to feeding, but he was pleased Andy seemed to be similar to how he reacted when he was fed from. Calm, peaceful, relaxed.

It tasted amazing, better than anything he’d tasted as a human. He hadn’t even finished with Andy and he was already taking delight in thinking that there would be more of this in the future. He could fill that hollowness inside gradually lessening. He couldn’t imagine it ever being full though, how could anyone get enough of this?

[Existentially Odd]

As it turned out, it was easier for Jeanne to judge what was going on than she'd anticipated, because when Murphy pressed close to the mortal - Andy - the cord of his headphones swung forward. The microphone hanging closer to his heart allowed her to hear the mortal respond. Unfortunately, the first effort at biting and drinking was a failure.

"Yes. I am close. I will be there very soon," she assured Murphy, peering through the windscreen of the car to be certain she was right. There were far fewer cars on the road where they were, she was having to do much less work to clear the way for them. They'd been travelling faster for a long while. They'd left the main roads out of the city and crossed over to... wherever this was, an outer suburb or the next city. Whichever. It did seem close enough for her to risk a question.

How long? she asked the driver mentally, her ears attending to Murphy attempting his second bite while her mind continued to scan ahead. She was going to need a drink herself, after all this.

"Three minutes," came the verbal response. The driver sounded as tense as Jeanne felt.

Closing her eyes to boost her concentration, Jeanne listened to Andy's heart beating. Incidentally, she could also hear Murphy's throat working as it swallowed and the rhythm between the two allowed her to immerse herself in the experience. It was a race between the drinking and how fast the car was driving. She knew the drinking would win, so she really hoped this next part went alright.

"Murphy. You must stop drinking, now. Do you hear how his heart has changed? It is speeding up. That is because there is less blood in his system and his heart is trying to compensate for the lower volume. Soon it will slow - you do not want that to happen. Murphy. Stop drinking now," she ordered, her command vibrating sternly through the phone line. She could only hope the suggestion she'd already implanted was triggered by the aggression of her tone, because if Murphy continued drinking... she believed she'd arrived just in time to watch Andy die.

[pinkroses]

Murphy was reassured by Jeanne confirming she was nearby, although once the blood started flowing he wasn’t worrying about when she would arrive any more.

He heard her first command to stop, but it was followed by a lot of explanation which lost his focus again as Murphy swallowed again. Her second command came through more strongly and the ferocity behind her voice made Murphy flinch. She’d had centuries to practise that commanding tone and it worked. Murphy drew back, licking his lips hungrily, making sure no drops had escaped.

“Ok, oh, shit,” Murphy said, exclaiming as blood kept seeping out. Fuck. He quickly lifted a hand to press against the wound, going with his human instinct to try to stop it rather than thinking about how he could heal Andy.

“I stopped, I stopped, Jeanne, he’s still bleeding, I need to stop it,” Murphy said, swallowing hard and trying to focus on how to stop Andy bleeding, not how much delicious blood was being wasted. He pressed tightly on the wound and gradually lowered Andy to the floor. His heart was still going, but Murphy didn’t want to have to think about holding him up whilst he tried to tend to him. He curled his legs up underneath him and let Andy lean against him. It wasn’t an artery he’d bitten, so the blood wasn’t gushing out, but it felt like he’d drunk a lot (not enough) so he was worried about what was still escaping.

Calm, quiet, calm, quiet, you’re ok, Andy, you’re ok.

Suddenly there was a car behind him and Murphy let out a sob. It was either Jeanne or he was even more fucked. His fingers felt slippery from blood and he wanted to drink again, but he had her to focus on now.

You’re here, thank you, thank you, please help, he pleaded as he lay eyes on the beautiful French woman who looked to him like a ray of sunshine. Andy wasn’t going to die now, she would know what to do.