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'The Red Opium' flashes in bright red lights at the front of the shady club. I re-adjust my blonde wig, smoothing out the curls I am not use to having and making sure my bangs are nicely fluffed out. I have put on a good amount of makeup, sporting my usual mascara and eyeliner, plus eyeshadow for a dark smoky eye and dark red lips. My mini skirt does a shitty job at hiding my ass. Thank god for the fishnet stockings and thigh-high leather boots, or else I would be practically naked.

I cross the street, taking very small steps. Anything wider and I will be flashing my lady part at the entire neighbourhood. There is a bouncer at the entrance. His eyes roam slowly over my body. When he gets to my face, he sends me wink through his swamp-water coloured eyes. I throw my hair back a bit to flash him my neck. When he sees the fake puncture marks I spent at least three hours trying to draw on properly, he opens the door for me.

"Welcome to The Red Opium," he says in a sleazy voice.

I was hoping they would not have metal detectors in here. I have Janice tucked into one of my boots and a silver-bullet armed revolver in my leather coat pocket.

When I am inside, the first thing I notice is how peopley it is in here. This is why I do not go out. The dance floor looks a little like an abused chess board. Empty cups and cigarette buds litter the flashing tiles under a mass of sweaty bodies grinding to some Marilyn Manson song. The air is so thick with moisture that my hair starts to become damp. I scan the area some more. Is there a bar somewhere?

I walk past a human being sucked dry by a vamp and try not to grimace at the guttural sounds coming from both of them. I am supposed to be one of them tonight.

After a few moments, the vampire lets the human fall on the ground and just walks away while wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. I debate going to help the poor guy, but decide against it when I see that despite having just been used like a blood bag, he is wearing a smile.

God, what is wrong with these people?

I spot the bar a few yards away and make a beeline for it. The bartender seems like the right person to start with. He eyes me curiously when I sit one of the stools. I can see the bite marks peaking through his sleeveless top, all over his arms and neck. In an attempt not to stare too long, I bring my eyes up to his face. Thick black eyeliner rims his eyes, but it does not distract me from the deep eye bags and frown lines.

"I've never seen you around here before," he says while pulling out a cup from under the counter, "What can I get you?"

"Red wine, please."

"What's your name?"

Crap. I forgot to think of a name. What would be a good fanger, bimbo name? Probably some sort of gemstone, like Ruby. Or maybe a flower. Yes, something feminine and delicate like, Lily, Violet, Lilac?

"I'm huh, Sapphire?" I say and I realize it sounds more like a question.

"Oh, neat. Kinda like your eyes," he hands me my drink and I accept it with a tight smile.

My eyes are hazel, though.

"So," I start, remembering my mission, "You must know the owners of this place?" The rumour has it that this club is not only frequented by fangers, but it is also owned by some. This seemed like the perfect place to start investigating.

"Yeah, I mean, they are my bosses. Why do you ask?" he starts wiping down the counter.

"Oh, just looking for a job," I giggle on purpose.

I feel a slight tap on my shoulder before someone gets dangerous close to my ear. He whispers, "That's a cute skirt, know where else it would look even better?"

Jammed into your windpipe?

"Off?" I flirt back with another giggle.

"That's right," the raven-haired vamp says with a lazy smile, "Wanna go somewhere out back?" he tilts his head towards what I assume are the back rooms. The ones were all the magic happens.

"No, thank's. My vampire date is about to meet me here." Vampire date? What is this, 8th grade?

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing such a pretty thing as you," he grabs one of my curls and pinches it between his bony fingers.

"He would. He is so voracious!" No, it does not sound believable to my ears either.

"Alright, alright..." he trails, backing up into the crowd of people with his eyes still stuck on me.

I turn back to the bartender whose previously casual expression has turned nervous.

"So, about the owners. Can you give me their names?" I start, "So I can address my application to the right people?"

His eyes glaze over for a moment before he replies, "Hmm, I'm not really supposed to say. You could just address it to The Red Opium," he says robotically before he goes back to wiping down the counter.

Ok, this guy is evidently not going to say anything. Time to move on. I gulp down my wine and get up.

"Thank's for the wine."

I start walking around the dance floor, searching some lonely fanger to interrogate. I spot a small girl standing idly by the washrooms. Blood trickles down one of her arms, but she seems conscious enough for a few questions. When I am about to reach her, a hand pulls me roughly through a curtain and then slams against the wall. My eyes come in contact with the same vampire as earlier. He looks down at me with a creepy smile, fangs poking out and all.

"Come on, Sapphire," he says my name the same way I imagine a snake would pronounce it, "You didn't think you could turn me down that easily, did you?"

"My vampire date is not going to be happy with you, Edward," I ram my foot into his stomach to get him off me, "Cullen." he stumbles back a little, just enough to let me go.

"What did you just call me?" he hisses.

I pull out my revolver, but before I can pull the trigger, he launches himself at me and knocks me off balance until I am stamped against the wall. He pins both of my arms on each side of my body.

"That's ok love, I like them feisty," he slaps me across the face and I hear a loud smack. "You like that?" he laughs.

I am about to head butt him but when I bring my face back to his blood red eyes, I get the sudden urge to flee, instead of fight.

"You're a little skinnier than I usually like them, but that ass of yours more than makes up for it."

I start shaking involuntarily when he runs his hand along my jaw, all the way down to my collarbone.

I can see images of the dark street, the angry eyes of my attacker, puncture marks, a kick to the stomach.

I can't fight back.

My muscles feel numb.

Blow after blow after blow. Lying on the ground in a pool of blood. My blood.

The vision shifts to something else. My mother. The green swirling in her eyes as she looks down at me.

"You know what you have to do, Emma." she says in my ear, "It's just like last time. You can get in through the window. Then, you will walk, slowly, to his bedroom where he will be sleeping. All you have to do is slit his throat. It's just like last time."

"I don't want to do this anymore, mommy." I implore her.

"You have too, baby. How else will mom and dad get paid? We have a contract."

"Please, mommy."

I feel another slap to my face, bringing me back to reality.

"I can feel your blood pounding through your artery. So quickly," he inhales me slowly, bringing his face lower towards to my neck.

He darts his tongue out and starts licking my skin. Oh god, I am actually going to let him do this to me. I shut my eyes.

Nothing happens. He gets yanked away from me by the collar and throw against the opposite wall. Death looks at me with cold, rigid eyes before turning back to the vampire writhing on the floor. He sends him a lethal look, picking him up and twisting his neck until it severs his head from his body. He sends it flying on the floor in a brutal display of aggression. Everything happened so quickly. My mouth is wide-opened in shock as I watch the blood sputtering from the vampire's neck hole.

Death rolls his shoulder before turning to face me with what I can only describe as a predatory expression.

"What the fuck are you doing here? In a fanger bar," he says in thunderous rage. The loud music still blaring from the speakers barely covers him.

"I had it perfectly handled!"

"Perfectly handled? So you wanted him to bite you?" He stalks toward me and drives a fist through the wall right next to my face.

I see him take a deep breath through his nose, clearly trying to calm himself down. Then, he looks to my neck and the hardness in his eyes returns with cold fury, "God damnit, Emma. Those better not be real," he grabs me roughly by the back of the neck and pulls me closer to have a better look.

I swat his hand away, "Of course they're not real!"

Relief flashes across his face. His gaze lowers to my low neckline. Then, it travels lower, hungrily, to where my navel is showing.

"What happened to your clothes?" he asks sarcastically.

"I had to look the part," I say, obviously.

"You really went the extra mile, huh?" he sneers, eyes still roaming all over me. "You're not going back out dressed like that." He pulls off his cloak and drapes it over me. I want to resist, but I welcome the warmth of it. It feels like a cocoon, shielding me from the outside.

A hoodie materializes from thin air and into his hand. He pulls it over his head and starts pushing me out and into the club's main area.

"What are you doing?" I yap.

"Taking you home."

He keeps ushering me toward the exit. When a vampire tries to block our way, mumbling something about us leaving when the night has just started, Death drives his fist through the poor guy's chest, gripping what I can only imagine to be his heart, but leaving it there, "I'm the last person you want to party with," he growls lowly. I think he squeezes it tighter because the vamp suddenly blanches.

When Death finally lets go of his organ, he stays rooted in place, eyes big as a saucer. Death wipes his bloody hand against his pants and we start walking again. I am too stunned to say or do anything, so I just follow like an obedient puppy.

We emerge out of the club onto the sidewalk.

"Did you drive here?" he says absentmindedly.

"No, I walked."

He shakes his head.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing at The Red Opium," he says the name as though it deeply disgusts him.

"I was investigating. But since we are on the topic, how did you even know I was there? Are you stalking me?"

We stop walking and he turns to face me. He looks me dead in the eyes and does not speak for a few seconds, as though choosing his next words carefully.

"I don't need to. You drank my blood. That means I can track you, Emma. Do you know what that means?" He takes a menacing step in my direction, "It means wherever you go, I will find you."

Oh. My. God.

"What?" I screech, "That actually happened?" Blood. I drank someone's blood.

Before I can stop it, my entire dinner comes back up and I throw up all over Death's shirt.

Oh, no.

His eyes close for a moment and he clenches his jaw. I am mortified.

"Death, I am so, so sorry." I can not believe this just happened.

He takes a deep breath. And then another.

"I hope this works," he mutters seriously before both his hands find my shoulders and the world disappears in front of me.