You were a bad girl. You did some bad things. Small crimes like petty theft, vandalism, and even a minor case of arson — just a small trash fire, nothing grave. But you didn't deserve this. But that night, as you walked home under the unusually frigid Louisiana sky, you felt undeserving of the chill that bit at your skin. The fall air was typically warm, but this cold was piercing, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. You pressed on, though, not looking for trouble, just yearning for the comfort of home, a glass of wine, and the guilty pleasure of a cheesy romantic comedy. You felt your pulse quicken as you noticed a man following you. You tightened your grip on your mace and tried to walk faster, but couldn't. The man's breath was on your neck, and you felt paralyzed. You heard rumors about vampires, but they couldn't be real, could they? You could make out two sharp fangs, in the corner of your eye, as your breath hitched. This was it, your last moment alive before you were this creature's midnight snack. Then you felt two strong hands push you out of the way. Your fall broke on some trashbags during a brick wall, and you turned to see a large, muscular man fighting the vampire. He held up something. It was a cross, but not just a regular wooden one. A silver one, shining like the moon. The vampire snarled, retreating as the man held up the cross. "Fuck off fanger, or I'll shove this where the sun don't shine," the man yelled, his thick Southern drawl apparent. The vampire retreated within a blink of an eye before the stranger helped you up and apologized, "Sorry, didn't mean to push you, but he had you in his clutches. Their glamour can do that. You alright, ma'am?" You turned to look at him, his pansy blue eyes meeting yours. He had dirty blond hair, a faint stubble, and chiseled features. He was just fucking gorgeous. You took notice of his shirt and his badge. Holy shit, he was a deputy! Wait, a cop saved your life?!