Eliza opened one eye and groaned.  Christmas Eve had sucked.  It was the worst one she could remember since her parents had died, step parents actually, but she thought of them as her parents.  Her birth mother sure wasn't her parent!  She groaned with the agony in her head and the taste in her mouth.  She sat up in bed, found the bottle on the floor and took another pull at the throat searing liquid.  She moaned and flopped back onto the bed.  "Shit," she muttered.  "How can I hurt this bad?  Getting killed doesn't hurt this much." 

The cold water on her face made her feel better.  The band had been real good about giving her time off.  Over the holiday, they were all going to scatter to the wind.  She stared at her face in the mirror.  She was feeling almost alive again.  Grinning, she wondered if technically she was alive.  She knew her body temperature was lower than normal but not that much lower, but her diet was certainly different.  She grinned at herself in the mirror and touched her teeth.  She though of rich, red, hot blood and the fangs had appeared almost as if by magic.  She felt one and it was cool, slick and very, very sharp.  She hissed at her self and was amazed a the sound.  Somehow, raw and primal it was not cat, not human but more than scary.  It was a sound that would make the hair stand on end and make the skin crawl with an unknown dread.  She giggled at the blurry refection in the mirror, but she was used to that by now.   She took another long pull on the brandy bottle and slightly staggered backwards.  She hiccoughed. "Merry," she hesitated, "Christmas to me," she giggled. 

She opened the closet door.  "What to wear?  What to wear.  I need something to celebrate the season.  Hmmm. . .  How about black.  Yes, I think black would be perfect.  And leather.  Leather's nice."  She carefully sat the bottle down, after taking a quick sip.  She selected a deep plum silk blouse, scoop neck pull over, and slid it on.  The slick fabric felt good as it caressed her body.  She selected an almost knee length leather wrap around, spread her legs slightly, wrapped it snug and cinched the leather tie.  The strains of music from the radio stopped her in her tracks. Pure clean sounds of a violin, caught her attention.  She didn't recognize the tune but it was a wailing minor progression that seemed to catch and drive into he soul. 

A tear ran down here cheek and she angrily wiped it away and took another sip of the brandy. Sitting on the bed, she slid on light socks.  She stood and stepped into her almost knee high boots.  Closing the closet door, she looked at her refection n the mirror.  Although her features seemed  indistinct, the could see the outfit was good for her.  She chose a heavy but not too dressy cape, filled a flask with brandy and tucked it into a cape pocket.

The elevator came surprisingly quick and she stepped in.  The couple she'd first met in the same elevator were there and the woman gave her the same disapproving look while the man offered the same shy smile.  The combination of the two, brought out the devil in her.  "Good evening," she said cheerfully as she stepped in and staggered forward, falling forward and twisting into the arms of he surprise and pleased man.  Her back was to his chest and his arms had gone around her.  She'd pulled the cape around so that his wife could not she his hands on her breasts.  She heard is intake of breath and could feel the almost immediate response against her hips. She put her hands over his and squeezed.  "Oh!" she exclaimed.  "I'm so sorry."  She straightened and gave another squeeze on his hands.  She turned to face him and smiled her sweetest smile.  "Thank you.  I'm not usually that clumsy.  I sure glad you were there for me tonight!"

His wife's eyes were wide and she was clearly trying to think of something nasty to say but the elevator had reached the ground floor.  Eliza stepped out and was outside of the building before either of them could say a thing.

The crisp cold air felt good.  The Christmas music sort of irritated her, but the bustle of holiday was sort of interesting.  Her dark glasses at night didn't attract as much attention as she thought they might.  She found all the holiday lights hard on the eyes and the dark glassed did help.  The side walk was crowed and everyone seemed to be in a good mood.  She pushed her way into a crowd to see what everyone was looking at and had to giggle at the window display, but she realized this was not a good for a person only slightly over five feet high.  The boots may have added an inch, but she was still having a rough time of it so she eased out of the crowd. 

She shivered and realized that she was being watched.  In the holiday crowd, she wasn't worried but she wondered why she was being watched.  She hadn't ever seen hunters here and she didn't get any feeling of hostility.  Grinning, she speculated it may be some guy paying attention to her.  She did look pretty good tonight.  Glancing around, she could spot anyone suspicious.  She shrugged, straightened her cape and continued along the sidewalk. She was moving slowly, not really paying a lot of attention.  She was thinking about her last time home, thanksgiving that year. 

It was the last time she'd felt safe, loved and warm.  She sighed and kicked a stone into the alley next to her.  She was bumped from behind and got a quick apology.  She stepped into the alley, leaned against the cold brick wall and sighed.  Reaching into her cape pouch, she took out the flask, flipped the cap off and had a nice belly warming, throat tickling sip.  She held the brass flask up and looked at the glint of light in polished surface. 

A rustling sound caused her to spin and she saw a huddled form rising from next to a trash bin further back into the alley.  A tall man arose and shuffled towards her.  "Geez, Lady, kin I have some?"  He stared at the flask in her hand longingly.

She felt a flash of alarm, but knew he really couldn't hurt her.  Anger at the threat, was her next thought.  "And if I say no?" she said with a hostile tone in her voice. 

He shrugged.  "Have it your way."  He turned and shuffled back towards his spot next to the trash bin.  He sat back down and sighed.  He lie down, curled up and pulled a blanket over himself.

"Shit," she hissed.  She walked to him and pulled the blanket off of him and waited.  He slowly sat up and blinked at her.  "Here," she said, extending the brass flask. 

He took it in both hand and shakily opened it and drank thirstily.  Handing it back to her, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  "Thanks," he muttered. 

She squatted, so you she could look him in the face.  She was curious.  He was a large man, and most would think he could have easily overpowered her, but he was not aggressive.  She wrinkled her brow in concentration and tried to sense him.  She closed her eyes and concentrated.  Darkness.  Sadness.  Hopelessness.  Opening her eyes, she saw him again, and realized he didn't want to hurt anyone.  "So how come your a bum?"

"Got my reasons.  How come you're a bitch?"

She giggled.  For some reason that struck her as funny.  "Good question, but I did share my brandy."

He nodded.  "Yea, you did."

She looked at him and realized he was staring up her skirt.  Squatting in front to a sitting man was not the most modest thing to do, but she wasn't feeling all that modest and she was feeling the brandy.  "Are you really looking my skirt," she asked.

He nodded.   "Yea, and you're not wearing any underwear."  He licked his lips.

Eliza opened the flask and took another sip.  There wasn't much left.  "Here," she said, handing it to him.  "Finish it."  He took it and threw his head back to empty.  She giggled.  That showed where his priorities were.

"Thanks," he said handing it back to her and resuming staring up her dress.  She felt at weird sense of unreality.  Was she really squatting an ally, drinking with a bum who was looking up her skirt.  She looked up and shook her head, which was not a real good idea.  She lost her balance and landed on her ass, the view leaving nothing to her drinking partner's imagination.  She struggled to her feet.  "This is crazy," she muttered.

He looked up at her.  "I've never seen a shaved one before."

"Oh damn," she thought.  "I'm not shaved, I just don't have any hair there," she shot back.

"Oh," he said.  Eliza turned and started to walk out.  "Wait a minute," he called.

She turned, "Yes?"

"Can I see your tits?" 

She stared at him not really believing what she'd just heard.  "Oh, why not!"  She faced him and pulled her silk blouse up revealing her small, firm, bare breasts.  Pulling it down and wrapping her cape about her she asked, "Happy now?"

He nodded.  "Yes.  You are beautiful."  He pulled the blanked around him, rolled over and his steady breathing seemed to indicate that he was sleeping.

She stood there not really believing the whole thing.  Stepping out of the alley, she once again knew she was being watched and not by any sleeping bum.  Still, there was no feeling of danger.

The street was almost deserted.  A few tired people were dragging themselves home and the sounds of off key singing could occasionally be heard.  Earlier, she'd stopped in a liquor store and replenished her flask and she'd been carefully pacing herself.  She was fuzzy with alcohol and almost numb, almost not quite.  Leaning against a cold brick wall, she took another sip of brandy and nearly dropped it when there was the sharp whop of a siren that was cut almost as soon as it started.  A police car had pulled to the curb and the officer was getting out of the patrol car.  She reflexively hid the flask in her cape and tried to look innocent.  Eliza was very good at looking innocent.

"And you're how old," he asked in a stern voice. 

"I'm 34," she answered so surprised it just popped out.

His eyebrows shot up and a skeptical look showed on his face.  He stared at her and nodded and laughed.  "I guess you are.  Whatever your doing, keep doing it, with one exception."  He stood smiling at her.

"Ok," she said in a small voice, "and what's that."

"No drinking on public streets." He smiled.  "Go home and enjoy the holiday.  It's late and a lady alone really shouldn't be out here.  I just chased another young lady home, so now it's your turn."

"Yes, sir," she agreed. "I'll go home right now, promise," she said returning his smile and raising her right hand.  He chuckled, wished her a happy holiday and watched her walk away from the warmth of the squad car.

As she approached her building she got the feeling she was being watched again, but she'd almost gotten used to it by now, and since she felt no threat and nothing had happened all evening, she wondered if it was her imagination.  She almost wished someone would do something.  Other than the elevator incident and the bum, she'd not really spoken to anyone all evening.  Well, other than excuse me.  Several people has stepped on her and most of them had excused themselves.  Looking around for the police, she sneaked another sip of the brandy.  She looked up at her building.  Seventeen stories and she lived on the 8th floor.  It was a beautiful night.  The sky was crystal clear and the stars tiny fires that gave no warmth.  She walked into the ally next to her building and followed the brick wall around to the back where the dumpster kept and garbage collected.  She looked up and nodded. She held her arms out and threw her head back and staggered and fell.  She sheepishly got up and did it again, this time maintaining her balance. 

She relaxed and her face took on serene expression, she lightly flexed her knees and slightly jumped.  As her feet left the ground and she remained gently suspended in the air.  She opened her eyes and looked around and thudded back to the ground.  Making a wry face, she assumed the position and floated up almost instantly.  She opened her eyes and smiled.  Looking up, she gently drifted to the top of her building.  When she reached the edge of the parapet, she wondered how control her direction but a slight gust of wind puffed her to where she wanted to be.  Dropping lightly to the roof, she turned, leaned on cold concrete and looked down from the way she had come. 

The trash wasn't quite as visible from this height and the smell of the wind in her face was fresh, not rancid as it was below.  Another sip of brandy didn't really lighten her mood but did blur the edge of it a little more.  The only ones who'd payed any attention to her all night were a bum and a cop, and the bum was far more interested in her brandy than he was in her.  That cop had been nice but he was paid to be nice.  "A nice cop and a bum.  That calls for another drink," she told herself.  She put the flask to her lips, she draining it easily.  "Good thing, I got a refill," she snickered, reaching into her cape pouch and removing an unopened pint of brandy.  Cracking the seal, she twisted the top off and had another drink. 

A wave of dizziness hit her and she staggered against the low retaining wall.  "Oops," she giggled, carefully sitting down.  "Don't want to go flying by accident."  A sound, on the roof with her, caused her to focus.  "Is it the shadow  man," she wondered and squinted to try to focus her eyes.  She couldn't see anything but she was having trouble focusing her eyes so took her dark glasses off and tucked them in her cape.  She could make out the figure of a very ordinary young woman. 

"You're disgusting," the young woman said.  "You're a drunk.  You do, um, weird stuff in alleys with bums.  The cops chase you off the street."  She frowned.  "They chased me too.  I've never been told to get off the street by the cops before.  That was disgusting too!"  She walked over to where Eliza was sitting. "How do you do it?"

"Huh?" Eliza grunted.

"Oh, close your legs!  How do you do it?  I want to know."

Eliza struggled to her feet.  "What are you talking about and who are you to tell me I'm disgusting?" 

"Well, you are disgusting, but that's not my fault.  I still want know how you do it."

Eliza shook her head and tried to focus.  She wondered if this was really happening.  Maybe it was some sort of twisted dream.  She looked at the young lady on the roof top with her.

"Look, you have to tell me.  I need something.  I can't take this anymore and you can tell me.  You can teach me.  You can do that much!"  The young woman ended on a rising note.

Eliza felt a flash of anger.  Her eyes flashed the wicked red that signaled grave danger for anyone in the path of her ire.  She drew her hand back as if to strike but controlled herself.  This young person had not really harmed her. 

"Oh, go ahead and hit me.  You're as bad as every one else!"  She glared into Eliza's eyes and Eliza could feel her anger and desperation washing over her.

"What is going on, here?" she wondered.  "Who is this girl and why is she so angry with me?"  Eliza glared back.  "No!  No, I'm not going to hit you.  I should.  I really should," she said through gritted teeth."  Her hand trembled as she lowered it to her side.  She saw tears running down the young woman's cheeks.

"Well, if you won't teach me, I'll learn myself," she screamed, and taking three quick steps, dove head first over the parapet.

Eliza responded without thinking and dove after her.  The cold wind whistled in her ears and in her knife position she quickly reached the tumbling body of the girl.  She grabbed and hugged her body tight to hers.  She tried float, to slow the wild descent, but she was drunk, scared and not in full control.  She tried to concentrate and screamed for Jesse.  She saw the stars, saw the scared face of the girl in her arms and then she heard a sickening squishing sound and it was very, very dark.

Pain.  Pain.  Lots of pain.  She opened her eyes as much as she could and saw the girl slowly crawling down from the dumpster they'd landed on.  Eliza had been on the bottom and from the pain she was in, she knew no human would have survived.  Right at the end, she'd felt strong and confident and had managed to slow them a lot.  Now, she hurt.  It hurt to breath and she knew her ribs were broken.  She groaned and the girl touched her face.  "Are you ok?  How did you do that.  Are we alive?"

Eliza reached up, fighting the pain the arm movement caused, and grasped her wrist.  "I hurt," she moaned.  She took a shuddering breath.  "I'll be ok.  Give me a moment."

"Should a call 911?" the girl asked.

Eliza groaned again but could feel the worst of the damage repairing itself.  "No.  Just give me a moment."  She paused.  Using the forearm she was grasping, she slowly pulled herself to a sitting position.  For the first time, she looked at the girl and saw blood on her face.  "Oh, you're hurt too.  Is it bad?"

"No, no, not bad at all.  Really, I'm ok.  Just a little banged up.  If you hadn't. . . If . . .  I'd be. . ."  Her eyes widened and her face turned as pale as Eliza's. 

Eliza squeezed the arm she was holding on to.  "Help me," she said.  She swung her legs over the side of the dumpster and the girl simply lifted her up and gently put her down.  Eliza staggered and held on to her.

"You don't weigh anything," she said in a whisper.

Eliza looked up at her.  "Help me to my apartment, ok?"  She coughed and spit out some blood.  "I still don't feel well."

Wrapping her arm around Eliza’s shoulders, she led her out of the alley and to the front door of the apartment building.  They walked slowly together, Eliza leaning heavily on the girl, looking as though they were carrying on a low voiced conversation.  Looking around to make sure no one was about, they made their way into the lobby and to the bank of elevators.  Eliza told her which floor she was on and the girl pushed the button taking them up.  Eliza never notice her smile or that she'd pushed the button to the correct floor before being told what it was.  As the doors opened, Eliza looked and then slowly stepped into the hallway.  Moving a little easier now, although still hurting, she inserted the key into her door.

Totally sober now from the pain and fright of the fall, she looked at the girl and motioned her to go in first.  Inside, Eliza closed the door and motioned the girl to the bathroom.  "You can clean up in here," she said.  "I’ll be right back.  I need to change these torn clothes," Eliza told her.

"You need more than a change of clothes," the girl replied.  "You need to be checked by a doctor."

"No, no doctor, I’m fine," Eliza told her.  "You’ll see," she said as she made her way slowly into the bedroom.  Taking another outfit out of closet, she slowly undressed and changed.  Moving around her room, she felt better with each step.  This time though, it was a little slower healing.

Making her way to the living room, she saw that the girl had gotten there before she had and was sitting on the edge of the couch.  She looked decidedly ill at ease.  She glanced up quickly as Eliza made her way into the room and made as if to stand.

Eliza waved her back to the seat and sat in a chair opposite her.  Looking her in the eye, Eliza said, "now maybe you can tell me what that foolishness was all about.  You almost killed us both."  "You know I can’t keep calling you she, her and hey you. What is your name?  Mine’s Eliza."

The girl looked at Eliza and hesitated.  After a slight hesitation, she said, "you can call me Payne."

"Okay Payne, now you can tell me what made you do such a fool thing as to jump off the roof of the building.  You should know you can’t fly," Eliza said as she looked at her.

Watching the changing colors of Payne’s face, Eliza knew there were many things going on in this young woman’s head.  Deciding hurriedly, she laid a hand on Payne’s shoulder.  The soft, light touch brought Payne’s head up and her face to face with Eliza.

Staring deep into Payne’s eyes, Eliza used a calming enthrallment.  She knew this girl needed to calm down and most of all, she needed to talk.