Sunset Beach Condos

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Ares was dressed in an attire he normally wore when he tended to the bar. Every inch of his body left like it was on fire with a deep sense of hunger that gnawed at him from the inside out. A light sheen of sweat beaded to the surface of his tanned skin. He'd noticed a deep bite wound on his neck earlier and did his best to dress and cover it up. But out of everything he felt, that mark on his neck burned the worst. The usual color in his bearded face looked as if it had been drained. Deep shivers ran up and down his tall frame as the subtle hints of death clung to him along with the sandalwood and spice that came off his person. The man had no idea what was happening to him, but would do his best to push through tonight's work schedule because later he would go investigate for answers. If he could make it through, that is.

As he stepped into the recently renovated establishment, it was like his senses were slammed all over again. The crowd, the sheer noise volume, the lights... He could hear beating hearts everywhere as it made him feel an aggression rise in his chest he wasn't used to. Ares' gums started to ache with a terrible pain as it felt like something had started to cut through them. His usual brown eyes looked darker from the stress the man felt. As he walked across the main floor and headed into the office, his throat felt tight with thirst. He had tried to eat something earlier, but his stomach had rejected it almost instantly. And water, it was the same. Now, he would just have to focus on getting through the night for now. The man briefly stepped into the office. If his boss was there, he respectfully greeted her with a quiet, "Good evening, boss." and clock into work. If she asked about him, he nodded and said, "I'm ok." and then headed back out of the office.

Ares wasn't one to complain much, if at all. Instead, he'd endure it until he couldn't. He slipped behind the counter and thoroughly washed his hands then dried them. The first patrons of the night ordered drinks. With practiced ease, he quickly made them in a timely fashion as always. But his hands shook ever so slightly as he fought himself. When his eyes glanced up he could swear that the veins on the patron's neck looked clearly visible to him. What the hell is happening to me...? He thought silently to himself. The drinks were handed off when they were paid for. If change was made, he handed this back to the patron and moved quickly onto the next. He had gotten about five more clients their drink orders, plus wrote down some orders for food. He hung the order sheets up for the kitchen to grab and attend to before he turned back toward the rest of the bar. He swallowed as he felt his heart in his chest beat rapidly like adrenaline had been pumped into it.

The strange hunger he woke up with burned inside even worse. A shudder ran through the man but still, he did not complain or showed any sign of stopping his duties. Ares recognized something was wrong, yet he knew he had responsibilities and really needed this job. So, he did what he normally did. Tackle one problem at a time until things were smooth again. As he went though, he began to become acutely aware of the heat that came off of the patrons. Their heartbeats made the hunger worse and soon he found he needed to briefly close his eyes and steady himself for a few seconds before he was able to move again. If anyone touched him, though, he quickly moved away from them as if to recoil. Memories of the attack from earlier was still fresh in his mind and he wasn't ready to face the trauma it caused just yet.

The stairs creaked like they resented her.Each step up to the fourth floor groaned beneath the weight of her boots, echoing off chipped plaster walls and dim bulbs that hadn’t been changed since the Reagan era. The stairwell stank of mildew, piss, and microwave curry. The air was damp and heavy, clinging to her like smoke.

By the time Willow reached her door, peeling paint, rust-bitten hinges, the number “408” hanging sideways like it was trying to fall off, she was already regretting the move. But regret was a luxury, and she hadn’t had room for luxuries in years. She unlocked the door with a flick of her wrist. No wards yet. She hadn’t bothered. No one would come looking for her here. The apartment was little more than four cracked walls and a floor that sloped toward the bathroom like the whole building was slowly giving up. There was a mattress on the ground, a single lamp, and a mirror she hadn’t meant to bring but hadn’t been able to leave behind.

Outside the large living room window, the sunset bled red over rooftops. The sky looked wounded. Maybe she was just projecting. Willow dropped her duffel onto the mattress and peeled off her jacket, the leather creaking with the motion. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at the floor like it might open up beneath her and save her the trouble of pretending. Her dreams had been worse since the move. More vivid, more insistent. Voices that knew her name whispering from places that shouldn't have mouths. Bones twisting in smoke. A door she’d almost opened. Almost.

She blinked hard and rolled her shoulders, dragging herself back into the now. Enough of that. Tonight, she needed air. Distraction. Maybe a drink that burned. Maybe a mistake or two in black denim and bad intentions. Willow dressed like armor. The black mesh top clung like a second skin, veiling the burgundy bralette beneath in just enough shadow to hint at sin without apology. Her jeans hugged her hips like they missed her, and the silver chain at her waist shimmered when she moved. She wore combat boots laced tight, and her lips, a deadly shade of blood red, were the only softness she allowed.

She walked to the bar instead of calling a car. Needed the movement. The ritual of pavement underfoot. The city at night always smelled like wet concrete, gasoline, and desire. She liked that. Familiar chaos. The bar’s sign caught her attention, the striking anchor leading to its name. The Black Anchor. Curiously, she pulled open the door and stepped inside. Inside, it was all wood and low lights, leather booths, and the bitter lull of a bluesy guitar bleeding from hidden speakers. The scent hit her first. Liquor and smoke and something… other. Faint. Metallic. Not human. Not unnatural either. Just… old. She liked it instantly.

Willow claimed a stool at the far end of the bar, one boot hooking over the rung, body angled with practiced indifference. She didn’t look around, not at first. Let the room study her. Let them guess what kind of storm she was. She only looked up when she felt it. That slow tug under her skin, like static teasing the edge of her spine.

The bartender. He was… striking. In the way lightning was. Sharp in places where most people weren’t. His face was all clean lines and tension, like something carved by obsession and kissed by bad choices. Dark hair, even around that perfect jaw. A mouth that could ruin. Eyes that caught hers and held...just a second too long. Just enough to spark. He wasn’t normal. She didn’t know how she knew, only that her blood reacted. Not in fear. Not quite. But something primal and very old shifted in her chest. Something she hadn’t felt in years. Her magic didn’t scream. Strangely, it purred. Not a warning. A question. Willow arched a brow, slow and deliberate, then let her lips part into something lazy and unreadable. She didn’t speak yet. Let him make the first move. Let him think she was just a girl at the bar in a too-tight shirt with shadows under her eyes. Let him wonder what kind of hunger sat across from him.

Sadie had been at the bar for a couple of hours. Just as the evening shift had come in for shift change. She didn't have to be at the bar as much lately, as she had a fully functional crew. And managers she could trust. Plus, her kitchen manager was amazing at keeping that area running smoothly. She had come the evening before as she had hired a new bartender and wanted to train him properly. Though he didn't need it. So, that evening, she had just wanted to drop on for a few hours, then head home, or do something a little more extracurricular other than work.

She has been in her office for the past fifteen minutes, tidying up the paperwork so it didn't accumulate as she heard a knock. Followed by someone entering. She didn't look up right away until the scent of copper or iron. She swiftly looked up at Ares, and he looked drained and ratehr pale than he did the night before. She stood up from her desk as he greeted her, and she responded. "Evening, Ares. Are you okay? You don't look so well." He replied he was 'ok' and then headed back up front.

She sat back down as she let her thoughts wonder slightly. She soon decided to finish up the miniscule paperwork as she preoccupied her mind. But, the nagging feeling in the back of her mind made her leave her office to check on him. As she left the office and arrived up front, she saw a dark-haired female sitting at the end of the bar. Sadie gave her a small smile and said, "Welcome to the Black Anchor. I hope someone has assisted you, lovely." She had enough servers and bartenders so hoped someone had already gotten to her.

She soon looked around for Ares and approached him cautiously, and stood next to him. With her back to the customers at the bar, she leaned over and whispered, "Are you sure you are alright? You look different than you did last night. Did something happen between then and now?" If his gaze met hers, he would see the concern in her eyes as she wanted to help him. She could tell his scent had changed, or there was a lack of from his normal human scent that was the he had the previous day. She didn't know him well yet, but they had had a few conversations since they met a few weeks back. She was hoping he was comfortable to come to her if he had a problem.

Dirty glasses were picked up five at a time as they were placed into the sink, thoroughly washed then dried. He put them into their proper places and worked methodically as he managed his time well. Yet through it all, his head felt like someone took a hammer to it and just let loose without end. Another shudder crept up his body as pain just continued to mount. His gums were sore, and it felt like there were teeth that didn't belong there. The man's heart continued to rampage in his chest without mercy, and he wondered if it was a heart attack or something. The was a scent of something that reminded him of copper, or maybe it was iron? Whichever it was, he couldn't figure out where it came from as the hunger inside him grew and the sense of aggression rose in his chest. The urge to rip into someone's neck was present in his mind and it made his mouth start to water.

Rationally, he struggled to maintain composure and think things through in an attempt to understand. The mark that was covered and dressed burned worse than ever before and it felt like his strength was sapped a little bit over time. Ares started to realize that the desire to just utterly bite into the nearest person might actually happen. In a serious effort to fight it, his hands stayed busy as much as possible. A scent wafted into the bar that damn near killed his resolve though. Blood. A heartbeat that spoke in whispers. Like it knew death and still stood. His eyes glanced up and when they landed on a dark-haired woman their eyes connected for that brief moment. His body screamed to go forward and drain her of every last drop of blood from hers. He felt like there were claws in his ribs as pain just radiated.

She looked like she was about to say something. Ask maybe? His rational mind fought with his body to remain in control and not do something he'd regret. But fuck it got harder as the minutes ticked by. When she didn't say anything, those dark eyes ripped themselves away from the dark-haired woman as he quickly finished drying and putting up the glasses he had worked on. His body had started to turn to go over and ask her if she needed something but then his new boss, Sadie, seemed to pop out of the office and stepped behind the counter then. He kept his distance for a moment since the woman seemed to talk to the other and ended up getting flagged down by a different patron, so he took care of their order. He wrote down what they wanted and tore out the little sheet to place it properly over by the small window for the kitchen staff to take. When he was done, he turned around to take back some empty shot glasses by the handful and placed them into the sink to wash.

His pace slowed as a painful shudder ran down his frame when his boss came over. Her heartbeat was loud, and he could smell the blood in her veins, yet it wasn't as appealing as most of the others in the bar. His eyes dilated for a few seconds as he had a hard time keeping that usual calm exterior. Her words were heard, but he didn't answer right away because a huge wave of pain slammed into him at that exact moment. Unconsciously, his hands slowly moved to grip the counter in an effort to steel himself against the urge to jump over it and attack the person at the bar in front of him. A shaky, inhale of air was taken as he physically had to force himself to turn around, so his back was to the clients. It was honestly a struggle to do it, too. "I... I'm ok." He turned to look at her and could see the concern in her eyes.

How did you tell someone you only recently met that you thought you'd been attacked? He wasn't sure if it had been real or a damn dream. But yet the mark on his neck said otherwise and he couldn't explain it. Ares' own eyes started to change as the whites of his eyes darkened briefly before they were human again. He didn't even realize it happened. His shoulder seemed to shake ever so slightly as another wave of pain hit him harder this time. The bite wound felt like it burned and drained him somehow which only made the hunger more prominent to the man. "I'll get back to it, boss." Even in his condition, he still wouldn't complain and was determined to push through it. He started to go over the dark-haired woman to see if she needed anything.

Along the way, he collected about two other orders as he got to her. "Can I get you anything, miss?" His voice came out deep, but there was a pained edge to it's undertone as he fought with the urge to rip into someone's throat. The lights continued to plague his eyes, the sounds of rushing blood through everyone's veins... He started to feel dizzy but still, he fought through it. Ares glanced toward Sadie for a moment before he looked back to dark-haired woman, whose name he didn't know yet. He would remain as professional as possible, but it might be obvious there was an internal war going on inside as his eyes started to change again without him realizing it. The color of it was just barely underneath the surface. A human might not notice, but someone supernatural might...

Willow didn't look up at first. Her attention wasn’t on the drink. It was on the shifting shadows at the far end of the bar. The heartbeat that had stuttered. The silence where breath should’ve been. She heard the voice before the presence. It was bright, polite, warm. Willow finally lifted her gaze, slow and deliberate. The woman who spoke was pleasant, sunshine in human form, wrapped in responsibility and smiles. Not dangerous. Not yet. Willow tilted her head slightly, curls brushing her shoulder.

"Mm," She hummed, like velvet laced with smoke. "Assisted, yes. Served, no. But I’m not here for the drink. Not anymore.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She glanced toward the shadows again, toward the one becoming something else. "You might want to check on him," Willow murmured. "One of your bartenders is about to forget how to be human." With that, she turned her gaze forward once more, composed, knowing, and waiting for the blood to hit the floor. However as she waited, Willow had felt him coming before he spoke.

It wasn’t the sound of his boots or the orders barked from across the bar. No, it was the heat of something shifting beneath his skin. A bloom of old magic and new hunger crawling under his bones like it wanted out. She felt the pull of it like the way her kind might feel a curse being born. His voice was deep, steady on the surface, but cracked at the edges like a mirror about to give. Willow's eyes, mossy green laced with gold, lifted to meet his without flinching. She didn’t answer right away. Didn’t need to. Her stare dragged across his face, studying the pale of his skin, the too-sharp tension in his jaw, the way his pupils flexed beneath the sway of oncoming bloodlust.

A human might not notice the shift beneath his eyes, but Willow wasn’t human. Her gaze narrowed. "That depends," She murmured, low, rich, and threaded with something arcane. "Are you offering drinks... or something warmer?" There was no accusation in her tone. Just a knowing, ancient patience. Her fingers tapped once against the bar wood, the faint smell of dried herbs clinging to her like memory. "You’re fighting it," She added after a beat, quiet enough that only he would hear. "Most don’t bother. Which makes me wonder… why are you?"

Her gaze held his, steady and sharp. But then something shifted. Not in him. In her. The look in his eyes… it wasn’t just hunger. It was confusion. Terror layered under instinct. Like a man thrown into a fire without ever knowing what kind of fuel he’d become. He wasn’t resisting the turn because he was noble. That’s when it clicked. He was resisting because he didn’t know he was turning.

Willow’s posture eased a fraction, the tilt of her head softer now, but no less alert. "You don’t know," She said, more to herself than him. Her voice dropped lower, like a spell laced in breath. "Gods… you have no idea, do you?" Her fingers stilled on the wood. Whatever he was becoming, whatever had turned him, it had done so without guidance. Without ritual. And that was dangerous. For him… and for everyone in the room.

Willow, however, didn’t flinch. She simply exhaled through her nose, slow and thoughtful. “Sit with me,” She said, still quiet, but with the kind of gravity witches use when the air gets too thin and time feels short. “Right now, before you hurt someone you don’t mean to.” She didn’t wait for his pride. She didn’t offer kindness or panic. Only the truth, and a barstool.

She had a bad feeling something had happened to Ares, but wasn't for sure until the dark-haired girl said something. Sadie could sense that the beautiful girl at the bar was not just a regular human. But she didn't dwell for the time being and headed towards Ares. She asked him what was wrong, but his answer was vague. Though he looked like he had wanted to tell her, and she didn't fail to notice the flash of blue in his eyes. She had been about to ask again, but he dodged her and assisted the brunette at the end of the bar.

Sadie stayed up front and helped with the drink orders, though she subtly focused on Ares and the patron. She started to listen and sensed a change in him. Like he was writhing in pain, but trying to hold it in. She looked over as soon as she heard the girl demand him to sit down. But, what made her move was the last comment from Willow. Before you hurt someone. Sadie passed the head bartender and whispered that they needed to cover for Ares. Since he didn't look too well. She then swiftly, yet gracefully walked towards Ares before he sat down. She made her way around the counter and firmly grabbed his bicep. She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. "You need to come with me. She is right." She paused to survey the floor of all the customers and continued. "She is right. And you don't know what's going on with you, but I can help. I can sense something is very wrong. You're coming with me my office."

She didn't give him no room for objections. As she pulled him along, her eyes would meet the girl that was making him sit down and tilted her head towards where they were headed. Letting her know that she could follow them. She dragged him towards her office and opened the door as she lead him to her couch. "Sit down here. Don't even think about leaving this office." She looked directly at him as her eyes glowed the dark purple and pointed at the sofa. She didn't let him oppose and then looked towards the door. If Willow had followed, "Hey. I'm Sadie. Can you stay with him? I have to grab something from across the hall that will help."

She grabbed her keys out of her desk and walked to the special storage room across the hall from her office. She unlocked the main door with her key, then went to a door that had a two step verification lock. She put in her code, followed by her thumb print and opened the hidden cellar door. She walked down the steps that led to a fully furnished basement like room that was directly under the bar. She soon went to grab the black bottle of Le Sang De La Vie, courtesy of her business with her ex. Jasper. She made her way back up the steps and made sure everything was locked before she headed back towards her office.

Once she entered, she shut the door behind her and locked it. She popped the top off the black unbreakable bottle and walked towards Ares. As she handed him the bottle she said, "You need to drink this. You are fighting something that will kill you if you don't drink it. You are more than likely craving this. And drink all of it. While you do, I will explain what is going on. And before you ask. No. I am not like what you are becoming. I just know what you need." She waited for him to grab the bottle from him as she looked over towards Willow if she had come to the office. "No one will hear inside this office, and no one can see into it. But, this may get a bit noisy for the both of us. Especially since he is trying to fight it." Her eyes showed concern before she looked back towards Ares. She waited to see what he chose to do and if he had any questions of his own. But, her main question was... Who the fuck did this to him?

Ares didn't know if he could honestly take much more as his strength to fight whatever the hell was happening dwindled. The dark-haired woman's words were difficult for him to process because of the amount of pain the man was in. Still, he did his best to keep up as humanly possible. But she was so close. Just across the counter. All he'd have to do was jump over and sink his teeth into her neck... The scent of herbs wafted up to him and there was a sharp pain in his chest like a warning almost. Yet the blood that rushed through her veins sang to him like a siren's irresistible song of sweet promises. "I can make a drink that warms you, miss." Tone still professional, but frayed at the edges like it physically hurt to speak the words. And honestly? Fuck, it did hurt as he continued to fight like hell against the urges to rip into her neck.

Of course the longer she took to answer, the less and less control he had over his actions as the hunger caused his body to move subtly closer to the counter. Which was dangerous. So very dangerous right then. The sound of her steady heartbeat seemed to drown everything out as his focus turned acutely on just her. But then she said something that barely managed to pull his mind away from the agony. Almost. "Know about what?" His voice held the pain and confusion that he genuinely felt. Even when her voice dropped so low, he could still hear the words. His lips parted slightly as if to make sound. To say something. Anything. But the second he did, a sharp pain shot up his chest and his head began to pound worse than ever. His mouth closed, jaws clenched to stifle anything that might have dared to escape.

No, he would hold it in for as long as he could handle. Which wasn't going to be long at the rate this was headed. But then she said something that still managed to get through the haze of it. Sit with me. Right now, before you hurt someone you don't mean to. The weight of her words somehow broke through as if a hand had reached in and grabbed him. Before he realized it, his feet had started to walk slowly around the counter as he came out from behind it. He'd even been about to sit down when he felt an actual hand grip his upper arm. Whatever trance he'd been in was broken as he physically attempted to recoil. Fragments of last night's attack flashed before his eyes like a nightmare. His other hand came up and gripped the wrist of... "Sadie?" Well fuck... He'd almost attempted to throw her.

Immediately, his hand let go. "I'm sorry..." Ares couldn't shake the feeling of teeth on his neck and tried hard to remain calm. He struggled to think as his boss seemed to insist, he go to the office with her. Then he realized how strong her grip actually was despite the thickness of his bicep was in comparison to her hand. How the hell did she have such a grip that strong? He was tugged firmly as she didn't seem to take no for an answer. The movements all felt like a blur to him as the mind struggled to process. A sensation of panic, fear, bloodlust and the urge to just rip into someone was balled up as it rose in his chest. Muscles tensed under the woman's grip as he instinctively kept trying to recoil. It honestly wasn't her though. The memories of last night kept coming back in flashes with each step that they made while she held him.

Before he knew it, he'd been led right into the office and up to the couch that was in there. A look to her was given as he was about to protest. But the words got stuck in his throat when he realized Sadie's eyes weren't normal. She pointed to the couch like she honestly expected him to obey without hesitation. Well, to be fair, she was still his boss. So, he hesitantly sat down as he was told to stay there and not leave. He looked at Sadie as questions flew to his lips, but none seemed able to even reach a single note to be heard. Then she spoke and was gone from the room. If Willow was there, he looked at the dark-haired woman with confusion as fear hinted at the edges. The hell is going on? Did my boss' eyes turn purple?! His lips twitched as if words attempted to escape the man.

A hard shudder ran through his body as he felt colder, physically weaker but somehow the hunger that gnawed at his chest was deafening. One foot moved forward. Hands gripped the couch subconsciously. His eyes turned black with the bright, pale blue irises. He could barely think... If Willow was there, he almost didn't notice above the roar that made him physically ache for something. "What's happening...?" He finally asked but soon Sadie returned. The door was closed, locked behind her. What had she been holding and wh-... His train of thought stopped as the smell of something caused his throat to tighten so hard it hurt. He froze there on the couch. Had anyone said anything? He hadn't heard a damn word. A hand reached out to grab the bottle. Nails had become a little longer as the burn from his neck intensified to the point he couldn't fight it.

The smell of something crimson was in the bottle. He downed it without hesitation. Unable to stop himself, no more strength left to fight it as hard as he tried. His rational mind, for a moment, was so hazy a coherent thought couldn't be heard within. Had the women said anything? He never heard a word. The liquid that came from the bottle was so sweet, so potent, so fucking irresistible! His head tilted and lips sucked on the rim for the want to drain every last drop. And for a moment, the pain eased. A sense of peace washed over his body. Muscles physically relaxed, even. Then pain worse than anything he'd ever experienced overwhelmed him. The bottle clanged to the floor as he doubled over and fell to against the hard surface. Body curled up as the scent of death rose from his person. A deep, hard groan suddenly filled the air of the office. Sharp and agonized. Ares couldn't hear a damn thing if anyone spoke. His back straightened, legs shot out as he lost control of the muscles.

A seizure violently took over then. The life he'd led up to that point literally began to flash before his eyes as they went back and forth from human to vampire. For a moment it stopped as his breath was labored. "Stop alsjeblieft met vechten, jullie twee!" He briefly spoke in his grandmother's native tongue as the mind went from memory to memory. Images of his twin brothers fighting and him shouting at them from across the kitchen to knock it off while he cooked for everyone... The seizure started again, this time it was harder, much more violent. If nothing cushioned his head, it would pound repeatedly against the hard floor. It lasted several minutes before it slowed to a stop. Black veins had crept all over his tanned skin. Sweat soaked his hair, neck, clothes... His own blood had started to seep through the dressing on his neck where the black veins seemed to radiate from.

His breathe was ragged and shallow now as he laid unconscious. The transition wasn't done as he started to wake only to groan helplessly while his body had started to shut down completely. Which, in reality, it had. All that was left to shut down were the brain, heart and lungs before the transformation was complete... His breath came in quicker as panic and fear set in. Ares continued to cling. To fight it. But in the end, he lost that battle the second the blood had entered his body, and he'd drank it like a starved beast. A final yell left him as eyes screwed shut with another seizure, more violent than the last. It was no more than a few minutes after that his body was dead. Whatever human scent had been there, was now gone. Ares laid there, dead as something else took root and cemented his fate. All function had ceased until the transition was, at last, finished. It started with a new scent that began to rise from him.
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Dangerous. Alluring. Monstrous. A flicker of movement. Vitals returned, but they were so low no human would be able to truly detect it. Not without instruments. His mind was slow because of the physical trauma of the transformation. Eyes fluttered behind their lids until they opened. Blurred vision at first. Then sharp. Too sharp. So bright! The man was on his back as he stared upward at nothing in particular. But it was clear the florescent lights overhead caused his eyes to squint. The pain was gone, save for a few things. A hand reached up to his neck as the bloodied gauze was pulled off. He couldn't feel the burn anymore as fingers moved over where a clearly visible bite mark was. "What... What just happened?" His voice was deep, quiet and frayed at the edges as his mind began to analyze everything with a painful sharpness.