Sierra: Part 1

Mika's Note: This story isn't very long, only a little over 4,000 words, so instead of chapters, I think I'll just break it up into 3 or 4 parts.  And I also just came to the realization that I never did fix this story to fit with Dakotah, so I'm thinking she'll be having a flashback later, in another story.  *sigh*  Why do I do these things to myself?

Originally written October 2003.

The Witching Hour. All Hallow's Eve. My night to howl, so to speak.

I think I've been spending entirely *too* many nights howling lately. Or, at least, that's what my body's telling me. Sick as a dog, no energy, grouchy to the extreme. Yup, my body's *definitely* telling me something.

I'm gonna be a Mama.

Which, under ordinary circumstances, wouldn't be so bad. But I've got a problem. No, no... my boyfriend didn't leave me. No, he doesn't beat me or otherwise abuse me. Nope, he's as loving and considerate as any one man can be. And he's hot to boot. The problem is much more serious than that.

You see, my boyfriend's a vampire.

Yeah, you heard right. Vampire. As in neck-biting, blood-sucking, turning-into-a-bat-and-flying-away vampire. Well, maybe not turning into a bat...

But the neck-biting is good. Too good.

He doesn't know. Not yet. Gods, not yet. But in time he will. Soon. I'm running out of time. And excuses.

So, I gather from that look on your face that you're wondering how all this happened. Well, it's a long story. I'd be happy to tell you if you're content to sit and listen.

You are? Well, get comfortable we'll be here awhile...

~*~

It was Samhain, or Halloween if you must, three years ago tonight. I was decked out in all my witchy glory and headed out with a group of friends to a newly discovered club they'd been invited to. It was supposed to be full of really hot guys, one friend had confided. Truth to be told, it was full of really *COLD* guys. Cold as in dead, or more appropriately, Undead. But we didn't discover that until later.

We headed out in my best friend Angie's car. With six of us packed into her Toyota, we joked and teased as we made our way over towards UNLV and the plethora of trendy bars and hangouts that surrounded the campus. I'd always wondered who thought to put that school so close to not only the airport but the Strip as well. Just what college kids need - easy access to booze, women and gambling. And a fast way out. But I digress...

"Sierra, I'm shocked."

"Shocked? Why Angie?"

"Look at you! Black cape, long peasant dress, Tinkerbell wand... It's not like you to perpetuate stereotypes. All you're missing is a tall, pointy hat."

"Sorry Ang, I left the hat at home with my broom." Laughing at myself, I continued, "Nah, but it IS Halloween. I just thought I'd dress so everyone *else* would know I was a witch."

"According to Donny," chimed in Celia, another girlfriend, "you don't need to dress up."

"Yeah, well, what does Donny know?" I mumbled, trying not to think too much about my recent ex. "After all, he does prefer Lana to us."

We all laughed in an attempt to erase Celia's untimely comment. Donny and I had been an item for well over a year - my first steady man since graduation. Then, one night about three weeks ago, he left without a word of explanation. Angie and Tara saw him out hanging on Lana a few nights later, a girl he swore he couldn't stand. So much for honesty in relationships, right?

"Look at this place!" whined Constance, our resident rich girl. "It looks like a warehouse!"

Laughing, Angie replied, "Gee, I hope it ain't a strip club then!" referencing the fact that most of the strip clubs around town were precisely that, warehouses.

We unfolded ourselves out of the car, straightened our clothes, and basically primped before heading inside. Looking around at the bland facade, my eye caught on the club's sign. Nightwalkers. "Hey Ang, that's quite an odd name for a club, isn't it?"

She glanced at the sign and nodded. "Yeah, but then a real oddball told me about this place. Remember Peyton? That cutie in my night class? Him."

"Oh no!" I laughed. "We're in trouble then!"

"Now Sierra, he's a nice guy,” she scolded. "Just a bit... eccentric... is all. Besides, he said he'd be here tonight, so be nice!"

"Yes Mom," I mocked as well all entered the club.

The illusion of a warehouse vanished as soon as you entered the building. Plush, antique-type sofa benches were scattered everywhere. Made of some sort of dark wood, they sported red velvet cushions and practically called out, "Come sit on me". The floor was concrete, stamped in an odd design that resembled flowing water and colored a pale reddish-pink. The bar was on the far wall, directly opposite the front entrance. It was made of the same dark wood as the sofas and polished to a high shine. A gorgeous, redheaded creature with brilliant green eyes stood behind it taking orders and mixing drinks.

Off to the far right was a high, old-fashioned stage that was currently void of entertainment. A rich, red velvet curtain hung directly behind it, presumably hiding the performers. The rest of the huge space was littered with people dancing, drinking, and trying to pick each other up amongst the many tables and sofas.

Spying the stage, Tara stage-whispered playfully, "Oh my gosh, it IS a strip club!"

"I resent that comment!" came a familiar voice from behind us.

"Sorry Peyton!" Angie called as her tall, blonde god walked up and hugged her. "We were just joking."

An odd twinkle lit up his eyes. "'S’okay. No offense taken, my dear." He focused his smile on her a moment longer before turning it on the rest of us. "So, are you going to introduce me to your friends or not?" he teased.

Flustered, Angie sputtered, "OH! Of course! You know Tara, right?" he nodded and she went on. "This is Celia," pointing to our short brunette friend, "Constance," pointing to *our* blonde goddess, "Paige," our redheaded goddess, "and Sierra." That's me, of course, the resident pagan and scapegoat. "Guys, this is Peyton." We smiled and passed hellos back and forth.

"Ladies, why don't you find your way over to the bar and order yourselves some refreshments? I regret that, with the holiday tonight, there won't be any performances, but we can find a way to entertain ourselves, I'm sure." He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "I have some friends with me. They're over that way," he pointed over his shoulder in the direction he'd looked before. "Be dears and get something for my Angie, would you? We'll meet you over at our table."

Tara took Angie's order and we wove our way to the bar. Waiting for my drink to arrive, I watched Angie and her new paramour. She hadn't mentioned anything about seeing him, but anything was possible. He was certainly enjoying her company however.

Constance and Paige were noticed by a couple of hunks almost immediately after reaching the bar. They made obvious faces and we laughed and waved them off. Grinning like schoolgirls, they focused their attention back on their new pals. We couldn't deny them; this is why we were here after all.

On the way back to Angie and co, Celia was headed off by a rather obnoxious and completely obvious young man. And Celia, being Celia, drank it up and excused herself.

Looking at each other, Tara grinned at me. "Looks like I just might be going home with *you* tonight."

"I love you and all, Tara, but you're just not my type." We giggled self-consciously and resumed our mission, drinks in hand.

"Where are the girls?" Angie queried as I set her drink before her.

"Out there," I said, motioning my chin out towards the dancing throng. "Mingling, I suppose."

"Ah," Angie replied knowingly. "I see. Anyway, Tara, Sierra, this is Andrei, Peyton's roommate."

"Hi," he replied, shaking both our hands. "Nice to meetcha."

"We're still missing a member of our party," Peyton interrupted. "Dakotah's not very fond of this kind of place so he tends to hide. But, he's here somewhere."

"Oh, okay," I replied, not knowing what else to say. I looked to Tara for help but she was oblivious. Her eyes were locked onto Andrei's. He was standing now, with one hand outstretched to her. Seeing a lost cause for what it was, I turned back to Angie and Peyton.

"Angie dear, I do think Andrei has the right idea. Would you like to dance?"

By the way Angie's face lit up, I didn't need to hear her answer. Her voice found me anyway. "Sierra hon, are you gonna be okay here by yourself? I mean..."

I cut her off. "Go, dance! It's okay. Besides, I'm still nurturing some unresolved anger. Go have fun." She didn't need any convincing. They were off before I'd finished my sentence.

Looking down at my Coke, I frowned. "Why'd I pick tonight to stay sober?" I mumbled, wallowing in my own self-pity. Poor me.

"Maybe because that alcohol crap will kill you. Or at least get you into serious trouble in a place like this."

Startled, I looked up.

"Sorry," apologized the voice. "I thought my friends had been sitting here."

"If you mean Peyton and Andrei, yeah, they were here."

"Where are they now?" I pointed without looking and he nodded. "As I thought. Mind if I join you?"

"S-sure," I stumbled. "Plenty of room."

He seated himself across from me and held out his hand. "I'm Dakotah. Sorry they all abandoned you. No social skills, that group."

"No, it's okay." I forced myself to look him in the eye and was startled and surprised by what I saw.

His eyes were a deep blue color, framed by long, thick lashes. The kind most women would kill for. He had long, dark hair that fell in loose waves down his back, almost to his waist. There must've been some kind of Indian blood somewhere in his family because he had that beautiful caramel-colored skin and fine features that the Indian people call their own. And his body, well, wow.

But there was a contradiction in his eyes that I couldn't figure out. As beautiful as they were, they seemed out of place in his young face. Almost like they'd seen more than his years hinted at. Liked they belonged in an old man's face and not in a fresh kid's. I told myself I was imagining things and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. He was so hot however, that I had a hard time looking at anything but his well-muscled arms or hearing anything but my heart thudding in my chest.

"This isn't my thing. Especially not on a night like this. I'd rather be out under the moonlight." he was saying.

"Yeah, I agree," I think I said.

Angie and Peyton suddenly appeared next to us. "Glad to see you decided to show your face, pal." Peyton shot out. "Had a young lady all alone here at our table."

I swear Dakotah rolled his eyes. "Well, if you weren't so eager to get your fang on, she wouldn't have been here alone, would she?"

"Fang on?" Angie asked, confused. "Oh, I get it! Like 'get your groove on' but you used fang since were in this gothy-vampish club!" She tittered a little laugh. "That's funny!" Dakotah just stared at Peyton.

"We're going to go cuddle on a couch. You two should join us." :She looks like she's pretty tasty. I wouldn't let her get away if I were you.:

:Go away, Peyton. Do what you want. Just be discreet! There are way too many mortals in here tonight. If you must feed, then do so out of sight:

Obviously, I was unaware of this conversation, but I knew something was going on. The tension at the table just went up about fifty notches.

"Whatever you say, boss." Peyton spat.

"I'm not your boss. I'm just tired of your games." Dakotah watched Peyton lead Angie over to an unoccupied couch in the corner. He turned his attention back to me as they began to make out. "Please, excuse me. I need to get out of here. My apologies - I don't mean to leave you on your own."

"No worries. Not like it's the first time it's happened tonight." I looked out towards where my friends had disappeared. "Unlike my friends, I'm not interested in one-night stands and carousing all night." I watched nameless faces pass by me on their way to and from the bar. "Maybe I should leave too."

"If I miss my guess, you all came here with Peyton's friend, right?"

How the hell did he know that? "Yeah, we came with Angie. So?"

"So, you don't have any way home."

"I can catch a cab."

"Not in this area. You'd be history."

"I've lived here a long time. Don't worry about it."

"I'll take you home."

"Um, no. And you're worried about thugs on the streets? Sorry, you're a Greek God and all, but I'm not that stupid."

"Romanian."

"Huh?"

"Romanian God. But that's beside the point." He caught my gaze with those incredible blue eyes and I felt my body yield to his command. There'd be no arguments from me anytime soon. "It's okay. I don't bite." *Weeelll, not hard anyway.* "I'll take you home and you'll be safe."

"Okay." Don't ask me how or why, but suddenly I trusted him. He took me by the hand and led me to the front door. I followed like a lovesick puppy.

"My truck is over here." He directed me to the left and escorted me to a newish Dodge Ram. While unlocking my door, he glanced back at the club, like he was sending psychic hate mail or something. "Get in." I obeyed.

I don't remember telling him which way to go but I must have since he found my place without a hitch. He had my keys in his hand and let me into my own apartment. I felt obligated to have him in for a drink. I *do* remember screaming at myself NOT to do this, but I don't remember listening very well.

In the end, my stupidity didn't cost me my life. But it could have. I know that now.

We talked for a good part of the night. I know that I wish we'd been otherwise occupied. After some time, I think he felt the same way. I don't know when he left me. All I know is I woke up on the wrong side of my bed, clothed in my favorite jammas, with a crick in my neck.

Sitting up and rubbing my neck, I squinted at the bright sunlight coming through my window. Morning! Oh no! Where'd the time go? I moved to get out of bed and fell to the floor. After letting the carpet comfort my pounding head for a moment, I moved more slowly and pulled myself back into bed. That's when I noticed the rose and paper on my nightstand.

Sierra:

Everything is as it should be. You drifted off to sleep shortly after midnight. I brought you to your room and laid you on your bed. I locked up and left. I next went to insure your friends all made it home safe. They are all fine.

Be warned: Nightwalkers is NOT a place for girls like you and your friends. Peyton made a serious error in inviting you along. For your own safety and sanity, do NOT return. Trust me when I say it could cost you more than your innocence.

Will I see you again? Time will tell.

Until that day, be well,

Dakotah

Sighing, berating myself for not being able to remember anything, I got a glass out of the kitchen, filled it with water, and put the rose in it. I carried it back to my room and left it on my nightstand. Wondering if I'd ever see my Greek God again, I fell asleep.