And once again, I woke up in a place unfamiliar to me. This was becoming a habit—one I definitely didn't like. As my consciousness slowly and sluggishly returned, my thoughts trailed a step behind, only fragments of the last few days reappearing in my mind. The feeling of urgency tugged at my senses, like I needed to be somewhere, remember something, but my mind refused to obey – all I got was a headache. 

Sighing, I dropped back into the pillows in the unfamiliar surrounding. 

It was dark.

Again.

And I wasn't alone in bed.

Again.

The shape of the body beside me was suspiciously familiar. But something felt different. I strained to listen, then froze. The body at my back was breathing. Vampires didn't breathe. They didn't need to; they had no need for oxygen. Yet every cell in my body was certain, that Eric was lying beside me. My cells knew it, even without my brain consciously acknowledging it.

Where his skin touched mine, I felt his coolness, but from that contact, a warmth spread, slithering under my skin and winding through my body. His breath brushed against my cheek—he was holding me so close—and a shiver ran down my spine down to my toes. His presence thrummed in my bones, pulsing through my blood, tingling.

God, I sounded like a lovesick teenager. Enough of that.

I twisted around, not without effort, since Eric was holding me as tightly as a five-year-old clutches a stuffed animal, ready to give him a piece of my mind. But the sight of him stopped me cold, the words dying in my throat.

Red streaks marked his face, and though his eyes were open, they held such sorrow that it was like a knife to my guts, stealing my breath. I placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away the marks that must have been his tears. He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing as he took a deep shuttering breath.

I had never seen Eric look so human before. It terrified me. Inside, I felt the carefully constructed walls around my heart begin to crumble; my own breath became shallow, and my eyes started to sting.

"Eric, I—"

Eric shook his head vehemently, and I stopped. What could I even say?

Help, I can't take this. 

Wild Eric, fine.

Seductive Eric, difficult enough.

Arrogant Eric, almost amusing.

But vulnerable, human Eric...?

I had had some equally rough... what was it, 48 hours? I couldn't even guess what day it was anymore. I had been awake too many nights, passed out, and woken up in bizarre situations. So the sight of vulnerable, human, crying Eric just about broke my heart. There was no more denying it. Despite everything, he meant something to me. He'd made me feel. So much.

I felt pity for him, because something had clearly happened to him. I felt fear, because what could have happened to a vampire that would leave him clinging to someone, crying, when he usually laughed in the face of death? I felt guilt because I was on the verge of breaking my promise, betraying Tom. And then I felt sadness because I was thinking of Tom and anger because I wasn't thinking about him enough. But most of all, I felt for him. His pain was like my own.

Awkwardly, I tried to wriggle out of Eric's arms. He looked at me with those big blue eyes and whispered a single word that made me pause. "Don't."

Then his lips were on mine, hot and breath-stealing. And what a kiss it was. Eric's surprise attack and his centuries-honed technique made me forget to breathe until I was gasping for air.

Eric growled in response to my pulling away from his lips, and before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me, molding his body to mine. I was crushed under 250 pounds of Viking—not that his weight was uncomfortable; quite the opposite—and his hands moved faster than my mind could keep up with. My dress was gone within seconds, and I had no idea how he had managed to strip me of it. Sparks ignited behind my closed eyes whenever his quick fingers grazed or teased important parts of my anatomy, as I tried to regain my footing, find the metaphorical rug, he so effortlessly had swept from under me. My entire body tingled.

With a clear purpose, Eric nibbled his way from my ear along my jawline to my neck, where his sharp teeth grazed my heated skin. I shivered with pleasure, bending my head back further to allow him better access. He growled appreciative, grabbing my hair and holding me in place as he continued his exploration. The next touch of his lips on my neck had me moaning, the pent up anticipation and his skillful mouth a dangerous cocktail of endorphins rushing to my bloodstream, making me light-headed and needy to a point, I didn't care about any consequences – as long as he'd sink something into me within the next few seconds!. My hands tangled in his hair, guiding his head closer to my neck, giving him the go-ahead to bite, when suddenly Eric stopped. Dazed, I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him.

He was staring at me as if I were an alien. Staring... through me.

"Eric?"

His gaze didn't refocus; instead, he continued to look into the distance, his eyes empty, the sparkle gone. Could vampires have strokes? Was there literature on this? First thing Monday, I would check the local library's database for "Vampire Medicine for Beginners."

Another blood tear slid down Eric's cheek, and I instinctively wiped it away, startled. My touch seemed to break him out of his shock, and he was on me once again.

Only this time, I was ready for his attack, so I noticed it. As hot, passionate, and technically flawless as his kisses were (and by the gods, were they ever), I sensed the impatience. The desperation. The emptiness with which his actions were carried out. I recognized his actions and the logic behind them for what they were, because at times,  I had reacted the same way. Empty Sex as an adrenaline rush to numb some pain.

Carefully, I pushed him away, and he resisted at first.

"Eric," I mumbled, but the fact that I said his name was drowned out by his lips, hard against mine while still maintaining a heartbreaking softness, to not harm me. Eric's cool tongue briefly swept across the inside mouth before he pulled back and caught my lower lip between his teeth, nibbling and tugging at it, pulling me close. My head fell back, and my body arched toward him, my sensitive, stimulated skin, clad only in underwear, feeling every inch of him touching me. 

A reluctant moan escaped me as I tried again to reach him.

But once more, he pulled away, pressing more of his heavenly weight down on me, his entire body settling on top of mine, adjusting to my bodies involuntary movements and its comparative smaller size. Just that movement made it clear how well we actually fit together. How much he knew what he was doing, how true his previous bragging had been. He might have had an inflated ego, but it was far from undeserved. Each movement complimented mine, as his straining erection was pressing against my barely clad pussy with each roll of his hips, somehow touching each and every nerv-ending every single time. Without even really touching me, I was already on the brink of something truly powerful, my body aflame my core pulsing with need. 

God, Sex with him would be fantastic, and it had been so long since I'd had any. Maybe I could  just let things run their course? Just to find out what would happen next? 

Eric sucked on my neck, letting his vampire teeth brush lightly over the thin skin above my carotid artery, playing with my fear and desire, igniting a fire I didn't even know I had in me. I moaned again. My body, ablaze under Eric's ministrations and so in need of the orgasm he was so expertly building within me, would hate me for this, but my brain was sending me signals that something wasn't right.

I sighed heavily and longingly, pulling Eric by his hairs back to my mouth, allowing myself one last, toe-curling kiss (and what Eric did to me during that kiss didn't even begin to be covered by the innocent word "kiss") before doing what needed to be done.

I slapped Eric hard across the face.

He froze. His eyes wide.

I slithered out from under him, which he let happen in his surprise, and sat facing him. His gaze still rested on me, and though I was sure his vampire body no longer even remembered where I had struck him, he was holding his cheek.

Such a human gesture. It made me certain it had been right to stop him. Gently, I took his free hand in mine and guided the one on his cheek to join it in his lap, so I could clasp both his hands. His bewildered gaze followed our intertwined hands, and he didn't move again. Eric, the cocky, arrogant, dangerous, and murderous thousand-year-old vampire, sat before me in bed with his hands clasped in his lap like a lost child, while I sat in nothing but lingerie opposite him. He hung his head, defeated. 

Something. Was. Wrong.

A tiny part of me pointed out that I would never get such a good chance to stake the vampire, who was practically collapsing in on himself in front of me. But the sneakiness, the cruelty of that thought disgusted me so much, it made me shudder.

"Eric?" I whispered softly. But he didn't stir. I spoke a little louder, more cautiously.

"Eric?"

Still no reaction. Helpless, I didn't know what to do. I was certainly the last person equipped for emotional stability and deep conversations. I bit my still-tingling lower lip and took a deep breath in an attempt to dispel some of the built up lust still coursing through my body. 

Did his shutting down mean he wanted me to leave?

I looked around the dimly lit room. The only light source was a small table lamp casting minimal light from the adjoining room. We were in a hotel room. Judging by the metal-barred windows and the barely visible decor, it was the Carmilla, though this room was clearly an upgrade from the shoebox James had shoved me into.

Then I looked down at myself. I was still wearing the scanty lingerie I had worn under my dress at Godric's. The dress that was now nothing more than scrapes of fabric lying not he floor, thanks to Eric. How was it that twice in what I estimated were two days, I ended up trapped in a room with no clothes?

Eric still hadn't moved. His silence made me realize how much energy and zest he usually exuded. For the first time since I had met him, he really did seem... dead.

I didn't know how quickly or slowly time passed, but eventually, it got... awkward. Eventually the heat that had built between us had dissipated and I once again had become acutely aware of the situation I was in and my naked body on display. Cautiously, I tried to pull my hands away from his, but he held on tighter.

At least he was aware that I was still there. That was something. In the dim light, I thought I saw that he had started bleeding from his ears as well. Alarmed, I jumped up, tangled myself in the sheets and barely managed to catch myself before hitting the floor, groaning as the impact jolted my shoulder. Pain shot through it—my shoulder hurt!

Wide-eyed, I glanced up at Eric, who had at least turned his head in response to my noisy commotion, even if he didn't move otherwise.

"You..." I rotated my shoulder back, and the sharp pain confirmed my suspicion. "You didn't give me your blood!"

I kept moving my shoulder, despite the stabbing and pulling sensations. I should probably stop, but the relief, that he'd respected my boundaries, was overwhelming.

"Yeah, you should get that checked again. It's making a weird crunching sound," Eric rasped quietly.

I jumped slightly, startled that he'd spoken. Good God, he was talking! I scrambled back into bed, cupping Eric's face in my hands. 

He pulled away, leaning back."You should leave now."

Stunned by his rejection, I recoiled.

"Eric, you... you're not okay," I whispered, unsure how far to push him in this  state of mind. Hurt male pride was one thing, but hurt Vampire-Viking-Prince pride? That was uncharted territory.

Eric laughed coldly, devoid of any real emotion.

"It's the bleeds."

I stared at him, confused. He was a vampire. And male. Surely he wasn't talking about having a period. Eric gestured to his ears, where a small trickle of blood was accumulating.

"It's daytime. I'm a vampire. We're not meant to be awake during the day," he explained in a condescending tone, as if he were speaking to a child.

In one fluid, graceful motion, Eric rose from the bed and walked toward the door, wearing nothing but a pair of tight black boxer shorts. I swallowed hard at the sight and stood up instinctively.

"But I... we... what?" I had expected a lot of things, but not to be thrown out. True to my nature, I immediately searched for the fault within myself, looking down at my body. Was he... done with me? Eric followed my gaze.  I did think I saw something akin to frustration or regret swirl in his eyes. If he didn't truly want me gone, why was he doing this?

I raised my arms, then let them drop noisily against my bare skin with a loud slap. "I was just trying to help."

He tilted his head slightly. Before I could react, he disappeared for a mere second before  returning, holding something in his hands, approaching me. In an unexpectedly gentle gesture, he wrapped me in a plush robe, his words dripping with sarcasm and condescension, starkly contrasting with his actions.

"Ashley, I'm tired," he said, steadily guiding me toward the door, and I followed without resistance. "If you need someone to fuck, find someone who's awake during the day."

Eric opened the door to the hallway and nudged me out. One corner of his mouth lifted, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It was all for show. "I'll be available again after sunset."

And with that, he closed the door, leaving me standing there in nothing but a bathrobe.

Author's Note:

It's not exactly the most polite way to kick someone out while they're still in their underwear, but hey, Eric is still Eric, after all.

Besides, you might already have an idea why Eric was in such a state. Any theories? In any case, let me know what you think, and don't forget to hit that little star button if you enjoyed this chapter.