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It's been a few months since Mom's 42nd birthday...

Ryder did not speak, or blink, simply stared, wide eyed at Patrick. After a moment Ryder reached out a hand, and touched his face. His fingers ran slowly over his cool marble skin, admiring the texture, all the while never breaking eye contact with Patrick.

"Ryder honey, how you feeling?" Sandra asked, as she and Thomas moved into the room.

He dropped his hand and turned to look at them, his head slightly cocked as he contemplated the pair. Glancing around the room quickly, his eyes fell on Cambridge and then Ragon, until finally he saw the girl. In a second he had jumped from the bed and blurred over to her; the sound of her pulse sang in his ears, drawing him to her, like a siren to their prey. Protectively Ragon moved in front of her and Ryder eyed him warily, as a low growl escaped from his mouth. He acted like a lion fighting over his territory. Patrick too moved over to Ryder, slipping his hand in his.

"Watch," Patrick said, and then moved over to the girl. "You can lull them," Patrick said, taking his free hand to brush the girl's face, as he replaced some wayward strands of hair behind her ear. The girl hesitated, but Patrick purred at her, whispering, "It's ok, everything is going to be alright. We just need to borrow something from you."

The girl was nodding at this, her eyes locked on his.

"You see?" Patrick said.

A strange smile crept across Ryder's face as he took in everything that Patrick said. Still with his hand on the girl's face, Patrick gently moved her head to the side, exposing her jugular vein. Ryder watched mesmerised, the rhythm of her pulse dancing in his mind, like an old song he had forgotten the words to.

"You don't need to take much, though you may want to," Patrick said, exposing his fangs.

Ryder, who had been hypnotised by the vein in the girl's neck, turned to look at Patrick's mouth. At the same time he felt his gums contract, and a sharp pain signified the un-sheathing of his own fangs. Reaching a hand up to his face, he curled back his lips and pressed against his fangs with his index finger. A sudden pain followed this and he drew his hand away, surprised to see blood. He stared at the dark red droplet on his finger, admiring the viscosity of it, as he narrowed his eyes, forcing the blood into even greater focus. A moment later and a smell assaulted his nostrils. He breathed in the coppery tangy scent deeply, closing his eyes as he did so, so as to isolate it from being tainted by all his other heightened senses. This smell, which was more delicious and intoxicating than any other awoke a hunger within him, and as he opened his eyes, they narrowed on the girl.

"Yes, they're sharp," Patrick said smiling, moving Ryder still closer to the girl.

She remained motionless, until Patrick bent down and in one swift movement bit hard at her neck. The first thought that popped into Ryder's head was that he needed to defend his prey.

Before he could begin to fight him for his prize, Patrick had withdrawn his head saying, "Your turn."

Ryder did not hesitate, but lunged at the girl, pressing her hard against the wall, as he sank his fangs through her skin. He relished in the feeling of her soft buttery flesh against his fangs, and lapped hungrily at the sweet nectar that spilled from her vein. Too soon he felt hurried hands pulling him away, and he struggled against his retainers, desperate to finish his meal.

"That's enough," Ragon yelled at him.

For a few moments Ragon and Patrick fought to control Ryder. His hands were reaching out desperately for the girl, who was now slumped against the wall, one shaky hand pressed against her neck.

"Ryder, stop!" Patrick said commandingly, and to everyone's surprise he did so.

For a moment Ryder was panting with the efforts of his attempted escape. Then he licked his lips, relishing in the remnants of blood on them.

"There's one more lesson," Patrick said, moving back over to the girl and lifting her lovingly to her feet.

Ryder watched as Patrick

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