Disclaimer: Laurell K Hamilton owns all the characters. I'm not making any money.

 

 

All it took was a small brush in the kitchen. Just shoulder to shoulder, something that should have been innocent. But that small touch sent my senses reeling, made my knees weak. I had thought the monster inside of me was gone, just a temporary side effect of the marks, but there it was again. So I did what I knew how to do when I couldn’t shoot my problem. I ran.

 

“Anita? Anita!” followed me as I fled up the stairs. I locked myself in my room, and stood in the middle of the carpet. I dug my nails into my skin, trying to bring myself to reality. The desire of the arduer burned in my veins, like scalding liquid passion. I had to get rid of this. I couldn’t keep going on with this arduer shit. I had enough problems. At that moment in the kitchen, I had wanted to take him to the floor. The real Anita Blake might take Edward to the bed, but not to the floor. It just wasn’t my style. Whoa, wait a minute, Anita. Edward? I gulped hard.

 

There was a knock on the door. “Are you alright, Anita?”

 

“No. Go away, Edward, please.”

 

“Let me in, Anita.” There was a commanding note there. But more concern.

 

“No.”

 

He went away for a few seconds. Then I heard a slight clicking sound at the doorknob. Edward was picking the lock. Within seconds he entered the room, slipping the lock pick kit into his back pocket. “What gives, Anita?” he asked, walking over to me.

 

I immediately took a step back. “I don’t think you should be around me now, Edward.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

 

“Because you hate monsters.”

 

Edward seemed even more confused. “You’re not a monster Anita.”

 

“More than you know.”

 

A sudden shudder shook my body. Edward was looking very scrumptious right now. Not just aesthetically, although that was in there. But as a meal. I turned my back on him. He grabbed my arm, turning me back around to face him. A jolt of energy jumped between us, like a fishing lure bringing in the catch. The arduer had chosen its target. Edward and I were very close, not nearly an inch apart. He froze. I looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was heavier.

 

“What just happened, Anita?” he asked, his eyes still closed. A small tremor ran through his body. He opened his eyes slowly, to look down at me. There was a predatory look in his eyes. He wanted me now too. The arduer had done its dirty work. His hands went to my waist, pulling me to him. Our bodies were one line. But that was as far as he went. So far. I don’t know how he resisted, because I wanted to jump on him, tear his clothes away, and taste the smooth plane of muscle of his chest, the salt of his sweat on the tip of my tongue. Stop, Anita, stop!

 

“The arduer. It feeds off of lust. It uses me as its bitch, and I have no control over it. It’s the one thing that controls me.”

 

“Is it anything like what I’m feeling now?” he asked in a hushed voice.

 

“Probably ten times more. Leave now, Edward, you still have a chance. I know you don’t really want me like this.” I tried to step back, but Edward pulled me back to him, with a sound of protest similar to a growl coming from his throat.

 

“How do you know I don’t want you like this?”

 

“Its just the arduer talking.”

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

He leaned his head down to rest atop mine. He let out another deep breath. “What do you mean?” I asked, breathless. He was so close.

 

“I mean just what I said,” he breathed out.

 

I shut my eyes tight. Because with them open I could see Edward’s neck, it looked very inviting. I remembered what I did to Jason’s neck. I couldn’t do that to Edward. He wouldn’t grow it back, not like Jason could. “It’s just the arduer, Edward. You shouldn’t be here.”

 

“I can’t leave you, especially not like this.”

 

I let out a frustrated sound that resembled a sob too much for my tastes. “Please, Edward, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

 

“Why? It’s just another part of you, Anita,” Edward murmured. His fingers dug into my sides. He was struggling for control as much as I was.

 

I leaned forward, so I could rest my head on his shoulder. “Because you hate monsters, Edward. I don’t want you to hate me.”

 

“I’ve stuck with you this far, Anita. I couldn’t start hating you now. Trust me.”

 

“How can I trust you when I can’t trust me?”

 

“Let me help you.”

 

“Do you know what that means?”

 

“You said it’s like a hunger?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Every hunger can be fed, can be sated.”

 

“If I feed off of you, Edward, you’ll never see me in the same way again. I’ll just be another monster, one of them. You can love me now when I’m a monster like you, that you can understand. But magic is where you draw the line. I know you.”

 

“Everything can be beaten. I don’t know why this is any different.”

 

“No, Edward.”

 

Edward ducked down, and nibbled my neck. No blood, but he stretched the skin as he drew back. A sound escaped my lips that was half exhaled breath and half scream. Edward dropped to his knees in front of me. His knees hit the carpet so hard it sounded like it hurt. When his eyes turned up to mine there was a feral look to them. His lips were half parted. I tried to back away, to save him from my monsterdom, but he grabbed the backs of my knees, and lowered me to the floor.

 

He leaned over me. I was suddenly fascinated by the way the muscles in his arms bunched. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips claiming mine as his hand traveled down my torso. His hand slipped under my shirt, and began to travel upward. And then suddenly he was gone, standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. “Everything.” He took a breath. “Can be beaten, Anita. We can conquer this.”

 

I rolled into a ball on the floor. I didn’t know how he was able to stand on the other side of the room, because there was a burning in my veins to jump him. I screamed in wordless agony, pushing myself to my feet. He did his part, he got away. I could damn well do mine. God Damn IT! I am Anita Blake, Bad Ass Vampire Slayer! AND I’M GOING TO KICK THIS BITCH IN THE ASS!

 

I glanced over at Edward. He was leaning against the wall, but his eyes were following me. I rushed out of the room and down the stairs. I rode the banister of the basement stairs, and flipped the light switch. I pulled off my over shirt so I was just in my tank top, and I flew at the kicking bag. Every kick, punch, and martial maneuver I had ever learned I pulled on that punching bag. The house must have been shaking, but I couldn’t tell. All I was concentrating on was how hard I could hit this punching bag. As I exhausted myself I could feel the arduer slowly leaving my system. 15 minutes later it was completely gone, and the stuffing was falling out of my vinyl kicking bag.

 

I crouched down on the floor, breathing heavily. And then I realized I was crying. They were silent tears, but tears all the same. I had beaten the arduer. Not even Jean Claude could do that. But I could.

 

I glanced over into the shadows of the stairwell. Edward was watching me from the first step. He stepped down, and walked towards me slowly, his gliding lithe motion back. “Are you alright, Anita?”

 

I nodded. “Are you?”

 

“What ever that was, it’s gone. When it disappeared in you, it left me too.”

 

I nodded, letting out a relieved breath. I sat back on the cold concrete. I couldn’t move. “I’m sorry, Edward.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, Anita.”

 

Edward held out his hand, offering me a hand up. For once I took it, and let him pull me to my feet. My legs didn’t want to work. But Edward was together enough to hold me up. He helped me up to my bedroom, into pajamas, and under the covers. I drifted off into half sleep, exhausted. When Edward thought I was asleep I felt him kiss my forehead. “I still love you, you know,” he whispered, and walked out of the room.

 

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