Alyssa stretched her arms over her head, feeling the tension ease from the stiff muscles in her back. She took a deep breath of the cold air and looked up at the stars burning brightly in the night sky. She glanced back into the shadowed room and the man lying there. His eyes were closed but she could tell from the way that he breathed that he wasn't asleep.

Alyssa chuckled softly and stepped back into the room, closing the balcony door behind her. She went to the bed and knelt down next to him. She touched his face. His skin was cold but she knew that he had to be burning inside.

“Where am I?” He opened his eyes at the touch of her fingers on him. The room was dark, the only light coming from a single candle on a nearby table but she saw him turn his head slightly, his fever bright eyes searching her out.

“Lay still. You’ve been hurt.”

“Where am I?” He tried to sit up. He felt a wave of dizziness that nearly made him want to throw up and he quickly laid back down.

“Stubborn. I told you to lay still.”

A low chuckle, a husky, female sounding low chuckle. There was a face above him but he couldn’t make out the features.

“Who are you?”

“A friend. A friend who knows who and what you are.” A strong hand gripped his wrist when he tried to raise his arm. “Now stop that before you pull the stitches loose.”

“Stitches?” John felt hot, like he was burning from the inside out. “Why have I got stitches? What’s going on?”

The burning was worse. He tried to kick off the heavy blanket that was covering him but his legs didn’t want to move. It was getting harder to breathe too. He felt like he had to get out of there but he just couldn’t get his body to do what he wanted it to. A wave of nausea hit him and he covered his mouth with his hand.

“Oh,God. I think I’m going to throw up-“

“Hang on.”

A rustling sound and then a gentle pressure on his arm. Then he felt the sharp prick of a needle on the back of his hand.

“There. That should help.”

“What…” John tried to turn his head. Everything was starting to get dark again. His head felt as heavy as a bowling ball and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Don’t fight it. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. I promise that I’ll tell you everything when you wake up.”

For once, John decided not to argue.

The room was still dark when John next opened his eyes. He raised his head slightly. He still had a slight headache but at least there was no white hot pain or gut wrenching nausea that threatened to tear him apart. He pushed back the blankets, sat up slowly and swung his long legs over the edge of the narrow bed.

Suddenly the world tilted crazily around him and he had to grab on to the edge of the mattress to keep from toppling over on his face. His fingers dug into the sheets, desperately trying to hang on.

“What are you doing?”

He heard a scraping sound and then there was someone beside him. A strong arm slipped around his shoulders and something soft brushed against his face. He leaned closer, smelling warm clean skin and that hint of lavender again.

“I don't think you're quite ready for that, Colonel.” The voice laughed softly. Strong hands slid under his knees and laid him back on the bed, propping the pillows behind his back so that he could at least sit up. The cool rim of a cup was pressed to his lips and his nostrils flared slightly at the smell. “But this you do need. Drink it.”

He took a sip. The blood was still hot and laced lightly with wine. He savored the sweetness of it on his tongue and then swallowed it all in one gulp. He felt a warm glow spread through his belly and he settled back against the pillows with a soft sigh, feeling a little bit of his strength returning.

“Hungry, were you?” A hand was pressed to his forehead.

There was definitely a smile in that voice. “Yes. Thank you.” He kept his eyes closed and tried not to think about the touch of those fingers on his skin.

“You're welcome.” Cool fingers brushed sweaty strands of hair back from his forehead. “And there's no need to be ashamed, Colonel. Everybody needs a little help now and then. How long has it been since you've eaten?”

“I...I can't remember.” But he did remember and that was the problem.

“I could tell.” The voice said wryly and he felt his face getting hot again. “Don't move. I'll be right back.”

The bed moved slightly and John heard what he thought was the sound of a door opening and then the definite sound of water running. He turned his head just a little and though his eye sight was still blurry, he could make out a faint light and the dark shadow of someone moving.

Within a few minutes the woman was back. She leaned down and he felt something warm and wet against his leg. “Don't worry, Colonel.” The soft voice soothed. “I'm just going to wash you.”

“I think I can handle that.” He growled softly and reached up a hand.

John was lost and he really didn't care. Once he'd reached the Space Gate he'd dialed a random address, not sure where he was going, just hoping that he could get through the Gate and away before anyone in Atlantis could catch up with him.

Without even thinking about what kind of danger this man might pose, the girl grabbed his wrist, and pushed the gun barrel away, struggling to pry his fingers off the weapon.

He was strong, nearly as strong as she was. But he wasn't strong enough. She got control of the pistol but when she tried to scramble away from him, he grabbed at her arm, jerking her down and rolling on top of her before she could get away.

He looked down at her face and saw the anger etched in her eyes. She was breathing hard, he could feel her heartbeat racing against his chest and he could smell the rage pouring off of her. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to hurt her. But what other choice did he have if he wanted to survive?

“I'm sorry.” He could feel the thing inside him. He tried to fight it, tried to keep it from taking him over again but he knew it was useless. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, wincing when his suddenly sharp canines bit into his lower lip.

“Get off me, you bastard!” She fought against him, trying to push him off of her but he was heavier than he looked.

John was beyond hearing her now. The animal was in him again, gnawing and clawing at his insides and her blood smelled so hot and sweet. He made a kind of growling noise in his throat, and his body tensed as he raised a hand to grab a handful of her dark hair. He wrenched her head to the side, exposing her slim neck.

She twisted and writhed beneath him, trying to throw him off. He groaned, burying his face in her neck, inhaling her scent. He ran his tongue over her skin, enjoying the taste of her before he bared his fangs and sank them into the soft flesh of her neck. She screamed and he felt a thrill of pleasure at the sound. Her blood was like sugar in his mouth and he lapped at it hungrily.

“Enough!” A rough hand gripped the back of his coat and he was jerked back. His teeth ripped into the girl's neck as he was pulled from her and she screamed as her throat was slashed to the bone.

John was thrown back against the wall, his head smashing against the rough stone with a sickening crack. Dazed, he looked at the girl, at the blood pooling on the hard ground beneath her, freezing into a red glaze in the frigid night air. Her eyes bored him into him, hate twisting her mouth into an ugly grimace. Blood, rich and dark bubbled at the corner's of her lips as she struggled to breathe. And then slowly he saw her body twitch once...twice and then go still, the light in her eyes fading as the veil of death fell over her.

“I hope that she was good, Sheppard.” A voice breathed hot into his ear. Strong fingers dug into his throat. “You god damn idiot! Are you trying to get us killed?”

John glanced sideways and saw a gleam of fire in dark amber eyes. The woman would have been beautiful if her face hadn't been twisted in a look of pure malice.

“Or maybe that is what you want.” Her fingernails dug into his throat, her nails as long and sharp as daggers. “Maybe I should kill you right now myself, you stupid bastard. Save us both a lot of trouble.”

“Then do it, Alyssa.” He managed to gasp out. “Quit fucking around and just do it.”

She snorted. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” She leaned closer and tendrils of her dark hair fluttered against his cheek. She smiled and pressed against him. She ran her tongue over his mouth, licking away the last drops of the girl's blood that lingered on his lips .

“No, Sheppard. That would be way too easy.” She let go of his throat and slid her hand down his chest and over his flat belly. “You're such a pretty man. I think that I can find a better use for you.” Her fingers found what they were searching for and he gasped. She laughed, low and husky and he felt his erection grow hot and hard, pushing against the front of his jeans.

“Time enough later, my little pet.” She kissed him, her sharp teeth nipping at his lips and then she pushed him away and got to her feet. “Come on, you've got work to do.” She grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him to his feet as if he were nothing more than a child. She pushed him toward the girl. “Clean up your mess and be quick about it. We'll have company soon.”

She laughed when he hesitated. She pushed him aside and knelt down, grasping the limp body under the arm pits she hauled her to the edge of the pier. She lifted the body and tossed it over the side as if it were nothing more than a bag of trash.

She turned and looked at him, her dark eyes sparking with humor. She cocked her head slightly and gave him a feral smile. Raising a bloody hand to her mouth she licked off the blood that stained her fingers. She grimaced and spat on the ground. “Nasty!” She exclaimed. “There's nothing worse than blood once it's gone cold.”

“You're a crazy bitch.” John growled as he got to his feet.

“Maybe.” She laughed and the sound sent a shiver down his spine. She reached out, grabbed him by the arms and jerked him closer. “But right now, I'm a crazy bitch that you need.”

“I don't need you.” He tried to pull away from her but she was too strong. “I can handle myself.”

“How?” She traced a finger down the curve of his cheek and then she slapped him hard. “I know you are new to this but I would have never thought that you could be this stupid.”

He pushed at her and this time to his surprise, she let him go. An eternity seemed to pass as they stood staring at each other and John felt ashamed that he was the one to look away first.

He heard her chuckle softly. “Always the warrior, Sheppard.” She laid her hand on his arm, gently this time. “And always the pain.”

“You don't anything about my pain.” He jerked away from her and headed away from the pier. Blindly he headed down a narrow alleyway, not sure where he was going and not really giving a damn about it.

She was behind him, following him. Her steps were light but to his ears they sounded as loud as gun shots in the still night air.

2.

John opened his eyes. He was in a bed, a warm body pressed against his back. The weight of the arm that circled his waist and the hand that cupped him gently felt comforting. For a moment he thought that he was back in Atlantis and then he felt the touch of the woman's lips against his neck and reality came crashing back down on him.

His body tightened. He started to move away from her and felt her sharp nails dig into him, her fingers curling into the nest of dark curls.

“Not so fast, sweetheart.”

“Either kill me or let me go.”

“So melodramatic.” She laughed and kissed his neck again, running her tongue over the scar on his neck. “You should have been an actor, my love.”

“I'm not your love.” He growled low.

“Oh really?” Her fingers stroked him and he felt himself grow hard at her touch. “I think another part of you just might disagree.” Her sharp teeth scraped across the scar and his body shuddered.

His body was tingling. Her fingers moved over him, leaving a trail of fire in their wake and he gasped at the sensation that threatened to rip him apart.

She flipped him onto his back and he didn't try to fight her. She was on top of him now, straddling him. A shiver danced down his spine when she pulled the night gown she wore over her head and tossed it on the floor. He reached up to touch her, to run his hands over her full lush breasts but she only laughed and grasped his wrists, pinning him to the bed. She leaned over him and he caught her spicy scent, like warm cinnamon, as she pressed against him.

Her nipples poked against his chest like hard diamonds and he groaned. He fought to keep control but when she rocked against him, the feeling of her warm and wet against his belly was too much. He broke free from her grasp and his hands went to her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

She laughed when he rolled her over. Her long legs wrapped around him and she dug her fingers into his back, pulling him deep into her tight warmth, nearly matching him thrust for thrust as he slammed into her again and again.

Her sharp nails dug into his arms but he was beyond the pain, feeling only the pleasure of her clenching around him, making him swell as he drove into her harder and faster. She withered beneath him, her legs tightening around his hips, her hands roaming over him, her nails scratching at him. She arched her back, her breasts brushing against his chest, both of them crying out when he exploded inside her.

John would have pulled away from him then but Alyssa held him tightly against her. He buried his face in her neck, shuddering at the touch of her long fingers tracing over the scratches she had created on his back.