(A/N: I'm bad at keeping in one POV, sorry. I think this is where I started diverging more towards first person pov's oof)

Emerson gasps silently, wide gold eyes turning towards the girl beside him, dropping the heart still beating in his hand. He reacts too late, the other vampires supernatural stealth rivaling his own despite the clear difference in age, in power. A man appears behind the girl, seconds away from ripping straight into her jugular. A spur of the moment decision is made and for the sake of her life, the young woman reveals part of her unusual gift.

Vine-like shadows crawl up her body at an alarmingly fast rate, and then she's gone. She reappears on the other end of the clearing, taking Emerson with her. The eccentric vampires eyes remain wide, this time due to shock instead of concern.

There's no time for distractions as two other vampires leap down from the trees above, their feet landing silently on the forest floor. There's three of them now, each feral but well-fed, eyes black as the night they reside in. They don't have rings, Emerson notes absentmindedly. It's a wonder they've survived as the fledglings they are. Their skin retains some modicum of a humans lively color, showing clearly that they've fed. The speed in which they move signifies the same. A starving vampire will move slowly, their limbs stiffening and their hunger raging. The brothers can attest to that at this very moment.  "Come now, vampire blood does nothing for other vampires. We just want the girl. She smells delicious. We'll even share, since she was yours to begin with."

He isn't wrong, from the moment he laid eyes on her, something about the woman next to him intrigued him. She smelled human but there was something entirely intoxicating about the abnormality in the scent of her blood. Almost unbearably appetizing. They'd had to go through more blood bags than usual, which was soon to cause problems. Having made the mistake of thinking on it, Emerson can't help but focus in on the rapid beating of Elizabeth's heart. With a violent struggle, he wrestles down the urge to drink until he's full. She is not his to touch, she is not anyone's to use.

"Emerson, c-concentrate. Sebastian will hate me even f-further and Remington will never forgive- forgive me if something h-happens to you. I can protect myself, but I may not be able to p-protect you as well." Her words shock the vampire-witch hybrid out of his stupor.

In a moments notice, his fangs are bared completely, nails elongating into points, gleeming sharply in the moons dim light. The thought of where he wants the rogue vampire to end up and a spell is what it takes for there to only be two vampires.

"*Exilium."

He needed to give them a chance and make it even between the sides. They're beginning to need to ration their blood supply, so his idea was entirely stupid, despite how he really thought in that moment it would help. With the new addition to the household, they've not been able to make the trip to the Underground to restock. He didn't think it through. Fuck, he didn't think it through. He always overanalyzes every move he intends to make, why was he so stupid to not do the same in such a crucial moment as this? Was it the adrenaline, did it cloud his thoughts? The thump-thump-thump of Elizabeth's blood roaring through her veins?

Even someone who has no knowledge of magic could tell that banishing a living thing bigger than a teacup took a massive amount of energy out of Emerson. It wouldn't have been nearly as bad if he'd been able to have a full meal. If he wasn't already so weak from being underfed. The pale pallor of his skin was worrying, even for a vampire. Elizabeth knows she'll have to take out the other vampires by herself, with only magic.

She... she cares for them. For Emerson. For Sebastian and Remington. Elizabeth trusts them, wants to learn to trust them completely. She wishes to have a family of her own, people who will care for her.

As one of the remaining vampires realizes her friends are gone, she takes a mad swipe forward with razor sharp claws. On a normal day, Emerson could have dodged. Had he fed recently, these pathetic fledglings wouldn't have touched him. They'd have been nothing more than flies to swat away. But he's hungry, and his limbs are stiffening as the days drag on. Two gashes etch themselves into his cheek, barely missing his eye. Hissing at the pain, Emerson hops back, brandishing one of the many knives in his collection. He's quick to toss another to Elizabeth, knowing she has no weapon to defend herself. He wonders if her strange magic is enough, but doesn't want to chance it.

The girl catches it, fumbling as she tries not to drop the silver bladed dagger. Its handle is gold as, with a single red ruby inlaid in the end of the pommel and the cross guards etched to look like an eagle, it's wings arching out and sloping downward at the ends. She is quick to right her grip, though Emerson notices it's not quite proper. He should teach her.

On the other hand, Elizabeth cannot stop thinking how she can't risk Emerson getting further hurt, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. Elizabeth promises to herself with everything she has that since she now has people to love, people she wants to see live, she won't let anything happen to them as long as she still breathes. So, seeing that Emerson's spell took more out of him than he wanted it to, seeing him injured, she pools as much magic into her spell, and hopes with everything in her that despite never having done this before, Emerson will safely be shadow traveled as close to the house as possible. The knife will only slow them down, unless by some miracle she can manage decapitation. The odds of that are highly unlikely.

He disappears in a swirl of inky shadows, and Elizabeth can only imagine the expression that painted his features in that moment. Now, Elizabeth is alone. Alone and most definitely in danger. Tears threaten to fall from her desperate eyes as she glances around her, holding the knife Emerson gave her tighter with shaking, scarred fingers that lose grip every other moment.

Alone and surrounded by danger. Just like it had been before. The thought could almost be comforting, if she wasn't so afraid.

::

Safe. He's safe. He's safe. That's all that matters. Gritting my teeth to bear the pain scorching my veins at the magic drainage, I open my eyes after the brief moment I took to close them. Shadows fester at my feet, some being the ones I've gathered, others acting of their own free will. Not a good thing. Not for me at least.

With a frown, I bring my hand up to stab the vampire lunging at me. A flash of regret clouds my mind before it's gone and I turn my focus back to surviving. While I greatly appreciate Emerson lending me a weapon, I wasn't completely defenseless. I was born into a hearse, my magic always quick to turn against me and it will one day be my demise.

The vampires screech is loud, the sound causing the other vampire to finally flash forward, ripping the dagger out of my hand and dropping it carelessly to the ground at her feet in one quick motion. Before I can react, too tired from shadowing someone other than myself away, not once but twice within a short amount of time, the woman digs her fangs into my shoulder, burrowing deep enough that I can literally feel her teeth scrape against my collarbone. I yell out in pain, the sound cutting off as I slam my mouth shut, tears freely streaming down my cheeks, trying desperately to push through despite the intense burning rushing through my body. Whimpers still escape me, the pain so unbearable I can't quite shut myself up.

It's like I was back there. This felt just like the drugs they'd inject me with. It burns, it burns so bad. I just want it to stop. I want the liquid fire out of my system, I want it out. Outoutoutout. I don't want to fall back into that perpetual state of hallucination, unable to tell the tricks of my mind from reality. No, no, no. I'm free now, this isn't an injection, if I can just get her off of me- I won't ever have to go back- I-

I got complacent within such a short amount of time. Without my weapons, I can't do shit unless I want to fuck myself over even more. I survived by myself for months after my escape and now these new vampires are going to kill me? Just like that? Its not fair.

The one who threw away my weapon laughs, walking toward me and exuding an arrogant air of confidence. I watch with a fierce glare, hoping it hides my pain and fear. As the girl continues to drink, frenzied, agonizing gulps, I can imagine as the wound I'd made in her abdomen heals up, the flesh stitching itself together as she drinks and drinks and drinks.

With every passing second, I can feel myself grow weaker, and I wonder if the black spots at the edges of my vision are from the blood loss or due to the cover of the night around us. "Does her blood taste as good as she smells Jessamine?" The vampire asks, reaching a hand out to trail a taloned finger down my cheek, blood pooling at the surface and trailing down my face.

Jessamine responds by biting just a little bit harder, dragging her fangs across my skin as she moves away. "Fuck, she's delicious. Dr. Strangebomb was right to try and keep her to himself. Here, have a taste Jasper."

I make to back away as Jessamine lets me go, but I stumble, white flashing behind my eyes as the ground moves to meet me.

I do admit, I'm genuinely surprised Sebastian didn't notice me tuck away one of the larger shards of glass from the broken cup. I'd only just managed to grab a shard as he walked away to get cleanup supplies, nearly failing as I had struggled to see through my tears. I swing blindly, hoping that the glass shard gripped tightly in my shaking fingers will do any amount of damage. It hurts flesh, hers and mine, ripping a slit from the woman's jaw to the cheekbone on the other side of her face. Blood wells up immediately, but the wound closes just as fast.

A few more tears leak from my eyes as I wait for the opportune moment to use my last resort, blood welling up from where the glass digs into my fingers, rivulets dripping down my hand. I hate having to do it, it's worse than killing people in my eyes. Its inhumane, horrid. It's what truly makes me a monster. Its why I escaped.

I squirm uncomfortably as I'm caught in an iron tight hold, the touch causing goosebumps of disgust and fear to cloud my senses. The glass falls from my hand, hitting the forest floor and cracking further. I'm caught within a different moment, mind overlaying the present with the past. There are hands holding me still, strapping me down at the same moment Jasper licks a stripe over my cheek, gathering my blood on his tongue from the wound he'd just made with a singular sharp nail. It drags down my cheek and over my jaw, blood slipping down my paling flesh. He closes his eyes as a euphoric expression takes over his pretty features. I can't truly see anything that's going on, but I know it's not good. This means that all my other senses are heightened. My low gasps of pain, the blood dripping down my front, the pain in my shoulder. I can't see but I can certainly feel. All I wanted was to get out of the house and this shit happens. I want to go back to them. To Sebastian with his abrasive front and underlying kindness and Emerson who has tried his best to make me feel welcome. To Remington, where I feel safe.

My body twitches, flashes of electricity shooting through every nerve and the lichtenburg scars along my body - my arms and legs, my torso and neck - ache like they're being freshly burned into my skin.

Jessamine forcefully takes me from Jasper's grasp, and I can sense more than see as my shadows angrily bite at her skin though its clear she doesn't feel it. She shoves my neck to the side, gripping my hair harshly as she tilts my head at an awkward angle so I'm forced to stare blurrily up at her. Jessamine shakes my head, turning my aching skull even further to the side. The motion causes discomfort to lance down my spine even as I feel the muscles and tendons resisting the movement. My neck aches, every moment agonizing as every best of my heart is felt as a deep pulse of pain that travels down to the tips of my toes and reaches the top of my head.

There's a needle being injected into my eye, my whole body frozen in terror, feeling every single second of the procedure. They're trying to force complacency. I won't do it. I won't. No more souls taken, aferlives ruined.

The harsh treatment and the ache in my skull is a warning that she can snap my fragile neck at a moments notice. The tugging of my hair snaps me back to the present just long enough.

I can do this. They're hurting me. They're hurting me.

At that thought, panic swells within me at what I'm about to do. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this.

But it's either this, or die, and I don't want to die. They are not innocent.

"Stay still now bitch, Jasper wants a taste. We're starving, you see, and you're just the perfect snack."

She is lying. Their flesh is warm, a healthy flush to their cheeks. They're well fed. They don't need my blood. They are simply doing this for fun, for the thrill of it, for the temptation my blood seems to cause.

Jasper is quick to dig his fangs into my collarbone, a spot where he won't get much blood unless he's brutal about it. And brutal he is.

I cry out as he retracts his fangs from my skin a little bit, only to bite down harder than the first time.

As I ready myself, nearly delirious through the haze of pain coursing through every atom, I hope they don't see my shadows snaking their way up their jeans. My vision blacks out for a moment, my head fuzzy like television static, and when I come back, my shadows have made my way up to their knees.

I make sure both vampires have skin contact with me before gathering up both all my courage, and all my willpower. I concentrate on the glowing orb floating in the middle of their chest, imagining myself reaching out a hand to grip it, before pulling and ripping the souls out of their bodies. Its easy, so easy. I've had so much practice, though not of my own volition.

Their deaths are quick, painless even.

I release a sob, falling to my knees as their bodies crumble to the ground like puppets with their strings cut, their souls floating above them, nothing more than a navy blue ball with wisps of what look like flames flickering every so often from around it.

It hurts. It hurts so bad. It's like every inch of my body down to my bone marrow is lighting up in pain. I can only watch the darkness that I'm usually able to command chip away at my skin, quick to turn against me. I can't watch anymore so I close my eyes, though it merely causes me to focus on the pain I'd rather ignore. Wetness streaks down my cheeks, the salt in them burning the wound on my face, but I know most of it isn't only tears. I just... need to rest for a little bit. Just for a little while. And then I can go home. I can go back. Back to Emerson, to Sebastian. To Remington.

Suddenly, I startle, flinging myself back, the tender touch and the tingles familiar but the pain in both my soul and my body causing me to lose myself. "Hey, hey, it's okay. They're dead. No one is going to hurt you. Sebastian, move them please. I don't think she's able to handle the... corpses."

A sigh is heard, and then offhand mumbling, "She was perfectly fine stabbing a werewolf between the eyes but now-"

"Sebastian."

"-fine."

"Sweetness, hey, lovely, look at me."

I watch the bodies, even as they're taken from my sight, lost quickly in the darkness around us, simply staring in the direction Sebastian took them, not really noticing who it was that was doing so. I hate taking souls from bodies. I hate it.

I hate it I hate it-

At least when I kill things for my survival, there's still a chance for an afterlife. But souls removed from their bodies before death will stay on Earth. It takes decades for the soul to finally wither away in one single moment, the person suffering in purgatory forevermore. Its unnatural. Its cruel.

"Sweetness, look at us."

I reach out and grasp one of the souls in my hands, knowing it's only visible when held by one who can see it. The fondly said nickname strikes a chord within me, knowing only one person who calls me that. "T-their souls are t-trapped here R-Rem. It's a-all my f-fault. I didn't want to. I n-never- never want to. But I didn't want to d-die either. I'm a horrible person. I'm so s-selfish. I didn't want to die- I didn't want to die."

I deserve the pain coursing through my body, the blood leaking from my veins, and the tears flooding from my eyes. I deserve it all because I am a monster.

"Sweetness, you're far from selfish. There's nothing wrong with not wanting to die. It's in your nature to want to live, it's in all of our natures'."

A sob breaks through my cracked lips and I literally throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt with my bloody hands. "I- I'm so-sorry. I'm s-sorry. I won't- won't do it again. Just don't leave me. Please. You're the only ones that care. Don't- don't send me back." As my words fall off into a broken whisper, I shudder in his arms.

I've never had anybody. Everyone either ignored me or hated me. They wanted me dead or as an experiment. No one cared. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe they don't care. I want him to care. I want to be cared for. I don't want to run anymore. I'm tired of running. Of hiding. I'm just so tired of all of this. I'm tired of the life I've been living.

His gentle embrace brings me immense comfort and I honestly couldn't be more happy with his existence, for the happiness I feel when around him. "Sorry to break this up, but we need to make sure Emerson's okay, and she desperately needs medical attention." Sebastian pauses before continuing, voice is laced with both alarm, and concern. "She's... she's turning into a shadow..."

"She's what?!"

Remington pushes me away lightly, though he puts a hand back on one of my wounds, to which I groan in pain, as he closely inspects my arms which are noticeably turning misty and floating into the air in some small areas. Inky blackness coats my body like a second skin, the shadows swarming and festering and gnawing away at my soul. As he does this, my vision swarms with black spots, hearing going in and out. The pain, why won't it stop? I want it to stop. Stop. Stop. I don't want to be in pain anymore.

"What the fuck is going on? Elizabeth, --at is this? Lo-- at me. Shit. This d----'t look go--." I focus on his touch, the parts of my body where his hands and arms touch lack the pain that overwhelms everywhere else.

A single thought floats lazily through my head, whimsically commenting on the beauty of the stars above us, and without my knowledge Remington hears as well. He startles before continuing to speak with Sebastian. I've not heard most of their conversation, but I'm too tired to care.

I finally look to Remington through glassy eyes, the sway of being carried in his arms lulling me to sleep as I finally succumb to the darkness that clouds the edges of my vision.

::

*Exilium means Banish in Latin. Once again, got this from Google translate.