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the park, closing his eyes and feeling for his brothers, and especially for Madeline. She’d followed him a few times when he’d gone out before, probably just making sure he didn’t do anything stupid – like go visit an old girlfriend. But tonight he felt her still back at the nest, so he continued his walk back to West Hollywood—back to the world he’d inhabited as a human.
    As he headed west and north, the neighborhoods improved. At this late hour, all the trendy clubs and restaurants he passed in Hollywood and West Hollywood were closed, empty reminders of a life he used to love.
    He crossed Santa Monica Boulevard, wanting to avoid encounters with any humans including the male prostitutes still on the street, some in drag. He stayed on the residential streets the rest of the way to Laurel Avenue where Clara lived. Like all of West Hollywood, her block was packed with apartment and condo buildings, the streets filled with parked cars – not an empty space in sight.
    He climbed the front steps to her building – a fairly typical two-story 50s modern – into the center courtyard filled with well-tended lush plants and small trees that thrived in the shade.
    Clara had one of the front ground-floor apartments. When he came to her door, he quietly unlocked it and slipped inside. Her lights were out, and he could smell her in her bed.
    She was fast asleep, lying on her side, still wearing his t-shirt, with the covers pulled up to her shoulders. He climbed onto the bed and lay down behind her on top of the quilt. He could smell the blood on the pillow beneath her neck, but her hair hid his view of her wounds.
    Her breathing was steady and strong and he inhaled to catch her scent better. His fangs extended, but he was determined to stay in control this time. He knew he should wake her and look into her eyes to erase her memory, but he wanted to steal a moment with her while she slept. He reached his arm around her and pressed her back into him, relishing the feel of her warmth and soft curves against his cold, hard body. Her hand covered his and pressed it into her breast. He held perfectly still, not wanting to wake her. He didn’t want this moment to end.
    She continued to sleep soundly, so he relaxed and simply held her and listened to her breathing and her heart beating. I do love her. I could have had a life with her. Goddamn Madeline.
    After a while, his fangs retracted and he felt the beginnings of the pull of dawn. He carefully extracted his hand and climbed off the bed. He knew he should wake her to alter her memory, but he just didn’t want to disturb her. I’ll come back tomorrow and take care of it.
    Would she tell anyone about him before he could return? And what if she did? No one would believe her.
    He walked around the bed and knelt before her, kissing her forehead and saying a silent goodnight. She didn’t stir.
    Walking back to the nest, he wished he could spend every night holding Clara and once again, cursed Madeline for stealing his life. He finally felt the desire to kill – a desire that he knew should be instinctual for him. Only, his desire was to kill his maker, which, of course, was impossible.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    Derek lay in his bed in the dark, feeling the now familiar surge of what seemed very much like adrenaline just before dawn. If he weren’t safely tucked into his home with the boarded up windows and securely locked doors, he would instinctively use this rush of energy to dig himself into the ground for the day. Fortunately, he hadn’t had the need to do such a thing, but his maker and his brothers had assured him he’d be able to do it.
    He felt his brothers all around him. He had fifteen of them. Some he hadn’t even met, but he could feel them. One was running towards the nest; the others were already inside the houses, as was Madeline. The last one entered his house and Derek felt him close by. He closed his eyes and waited for dawn, thinking of Clara as he’d done