The vampires had a pet demon. Well, not really a pet, persay, more like a deadly weapon. If they needed someone dead in a night, you got the order. If Gerard wanted someone to dissapear, if Frankie wanted blood, if Mikey himself had people messing with him, you were who they turned to.

You were beautiful in Mikeys eyes. You were graceful like a feline, serpentine eyes that gave him chills. Pretty raven hair... And oh, your tattoos. Mikey loved those like he loved your personality switches. His personal favorite was the black dragon on your throat, and god, he wished you would let him trace it. Memorize every scar and ink swirl with his lips until he forgot his own name.

Gerard knew it; Mikey was down bad for you. But he was such a sweetheart, always the quiet one. Not brooding, just shy and a little melancholic. He didn't really like people, so to fall so pathetically for someone like you was like a shock to his system.

You took care of everyone like a mother, providing the fresh blood for their vampire diets and finding elusive ways to keep them in that nice New Jersey Penthouse. Yet you never let anyone touch you. Mikey knew about your past from Frank, the only one who you had spoken to about it. You suffered years of abuse, being used by your real father and stepfather in perverted ways as a child, which led to rows of self inflicted punishment scars on your thighs, always hidden by your jeans.

One night, he caught a glimpse of two X shaped scars on your hip bones as you stretched like the feline you acted like. And oh, he wanted to touch them. You see, Mikey always had a thing for scars and stretch marks... and thighs. He thought of them as decoration, something to be traced rather than hidden. As for thighs? He always imagined them to be his favorite pillow. Though he never played with women, always silently watching you from the sidelines, trying to work up the courage to get with you.

And he knew damn well what you were capable of. Soft, yet deadly. An assassin with a cult following of vampires who treated you like their mother.

One night, Mikey got the nerve. He quietly slunk into your room, where he found you asleep on the bed, body splayed out like a resting cat. He could see more tattoos and scars than he had ever seen before, and god, you looked so at peace. Your lip rings glittered under the faint lamplight. Of course, you weren't expecting anyone to come into your room at 2AM, so you sported shorts and an off the shoulder top that hugged your curves comfortably.

He watched for a minute, before kneeling down beside the bed and slowly running his hand through your hair, glancing over your frame.