Fic: Legacy (1/?)
Title: Legacy
Author: Helion
Chapter: Prologue
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Rating: PG-13 for language (NC-17 over all for violence and sexytimes).
Summary: An ages old prophesy foretells the rising of a dangerous power and taboo love between a vampire and a witch. The fact that that vampire is popular HBIC Santana Lopez only complicates matters when it is reveled that her mate is meant to be none other than her Glee captain Rachel Berry. She finds, strangely, that lack of attraction is not going to be her biggest problem. It's keeping her hands off Rachel long enough to figure out what exactly the prophesy means and how long they have before their lives, and the lives of all those in Glee Club, are turned upside down or destroyed completely. Not to mention Rachel's still not going to let them forget about Sectionals, even with a dangerous villain breathing down their necks.
Warnings: Language and Violence. And Santana's general lack of control.
Spoilers: Just about anything is game.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, we wouldn't NEED fanfiction. Also, Glee would prolly be on Showtime, because the places that my brain takes them are not FCC compatible.
A/N: So yeah, I decided to post this. Hope you guys like it... and don't worry, there I won't make you wait too long for the sexytimes! Let's just see how long these too can keep their hands off of each other.
Prologue: Santana
Santana crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, suppressing the groan she felt like letting out and turning it into a growl that scared a sophomore sitting next to her.
It was no secret that Santana was a member of a very old, very powerful vampire clan that basically dominated the Midwest. There was a ton of misconception on her species at the moment, seeing as everyone was still turning over the Revelation a few years ago when the rest of the supernatural community came out of their proverbial broom closets. She was the only upper-echelon vamp that stalked McKinley’s hallways, oh there were plenty lower and mid levels wandering around, but most of them had parents that were turned in the last century. Santana was the oldest daughter in a long line of vamps leading back, some say, to biblical times.
Fortunately, most of the myths had been dispelled, and Santana’s family had decided to remain coffined until it had blown over. There were still some floating about and as with anything newsworthy, wackos that thought they knew everything and preached about the horror of ‘undead life’.
Ok, sure, yes, they could turn people into vampires. No, they didn’t do it often because it was a process that took years and usually only was used on a lover or friend who agreed to accompany you, were you to decide on the Final Change; unless you ran across one of the freaks that had been psychotic before they changed… and there were sadly plenty of them still out there. Yes, she was ‘alive’ for now. Yes, her parents, thankfully, were still ‘alive’. No, her grandparents were not; and yes, she still called them every Sunday like a good granddaughter.
She could walk in the sun and did NOT sparkle. The first person to suggest that walked away with a broken face with very little effort on Santana’s part. She did have to wear sunglasses often when outside though because she had inherited a living vamps eyesight in spades.
She got along with her werewolf friends just fine, though her parents didn’t really like them much it wasn’t as forbidden; her line, having changed with the times to survive, was much more progressive than some of the other clans were. She even dated an Elf for a little while, before deciding that her tastes ran far too dark for Brittany; because, yes, she was still a monster and a hunter somewhere deep down past the soul that would remain with her until she decided whether or not there was an afterlife for those born and not bitten.
Speaking of the Elf, she leaned over and patted Santana’s hand.
“San, don’t scare the normies. It’s not cool.”
Santana simply snickered, sending a friendly smirk to her best friend, and went back to drawing in her notebook.
This class was ridiculous. Why she was in a Spanish class in the first place was a wonder, seeing as how she’d practically known how to speak the language since birth. She was contemplating a nap when suddenly she caught a whiff of something that had her fangs descending of their own free will.
She looked up quickly, a growl on her lips and ready to jump on the source, when she met the eyes of none other than Rachel Berry, good witch and social pariah, handing a note to Mr. Schuester.
In an extremely short skirt and low cut top.
That wasn’t the weird part, Santana had often found herself staring at the girl’s (surprisingly) nice rack and legs that could kill. What was weird was the aura of power suddenly around the girl, and the scent of… something… that made Santana want to exit her seat and steal the girl away right that second.
“Mine.”
She didn’t realize that the growl had escaped her lips, albeit thankfully in a low tone that only a few around her with advanced hearing could hear.
Puck gave her a quizzical look and mouthed ‘down girl’. The half wolf, half incubus obviously had not sensed what Santana had. Brittany, for some reason gave her a huge smile. Quinn and Sam, the other wolves in the room, turned and raised eyebrows. Thank god the only supernatural’s in the class were her friends. Even more so, Santana was thankful that only Brittany knew her little secret. The others thought her fangs only descended when she was pissed, or needed to feed.
She wasn’t sure it was a good thing, that she was content enough with her sexuality by this point in her life that she could admit to herself she definitely wanted to feed on something.
And that something was not limited to Rachel Berry’s blood.
Prologue: Rachel
Rachel Berry nearly skipped down the hall on the way to Mr. Schuester’s class with her tardy note in her hand. She had had the best summer, extending into that morning when her fathers woke her up with a surprise gift that she had spent a good chunk of the morning going over with them.
She had spent the summer honing her power, learning to look beyond people’s faces. Learning new spells and potions and one extremely exiting prophesy handed down from her grandmother on her Daddy’s side. She let her mind drift back to a month ago, at her grandmother’s cottage.
“Granny, I don’t know why you insist on living all the way out here when you have plenty of money.”
“Its close to nature deary… you should like it. It’s in your blood.”
“Oh, I do love it granny, I just simply cannot see myself living here for the rest of my life. You know it’s my dream to live in New York.”
“Yes. Well. As long as you visit your old grandmother whenever you can, I suppose I can get some sense into you yet girl. Though, now that your daddies left, I can show you this.” The older woman rose, going for an old leather bound book on the bookshelf. She returned and flipped to a page near the end of the book. The others beyond it looked blank.
“We’ve been saving this for your 18th birthday, but your father’s and I figured now may be better. There have been strange energies in the air, and you may need to know this now.”
“Granny?”
“Whenever one from our family is born, a prophesy is made by the parents of a Changeling child. You remember when I taught you about Changlings, correct?”
“Yes, Granny. They are Faerie’s, Elves or other creatures from the Fae realms. They’re parents give them up, in exchange for a human child, because for some reason the child cannot, or is not supposed to, grow up in the Fae realms.”
“Yes, and I have helped several sets of Fae parents help their children find homes here that will fit them. Sometimes, even, they can be given to Changeling families. Those that have found their heritage and found a mate in one of their own. Anyway, Rachel, when you were born a prophecy was made. It’s fairly vague, but possibly the most important in our line since its beginning. You see, you only know part of the story of our history. You know how we arrived here from Europe, and that we are one of the oldest families of European witches on American soil. However, there is something you do not yet know. Have you heard of the conquistador Hernando Cortez?”
“Yes, of course. We went over him in history class this last year.”
“Well, there are things your human teachers do not bother to tell you. There was a reason Cortez was so ruthless. The way in which he managed to obliterate the Aztec people. He was from a very old family of living vampires.”
“Ok…”
“You see, when your great-great-great-great grandfather visited Spain with his family, he met Cortez before he left for the America’s. After a short time knowing her he had taken an unhealthy interest in my great-great grandmother that was unrequited. Though he insisted she returned his love, after only knowing each other briefly her father had to refuse his proposal of marriage as he had already been married. Cortez, being a proud man, and Rachel being a young woman-“
“Wait. Her name was Rachel?”
“Yes, dearie, who do you think your named after? Anyway, Rachel being the headstrong young woman she was agreed with Cortez that her father was following ancient prejudices. However, she was simply the oldest daughter and as such the one to pass on the magic most strongly. Her father could not allow her to follow Cortez, a vampire, across the sea.”
“What does this have to do with me Granny? This all happened hundreds of years ago.”
“It is your history darling. However, as it happens, Cortez made a prediction, or possibly a curse, that a descendant of his would meet the last of our pure line in a test. They would put to rest an old animosity, and save ‘an endangered people’ from war. They would be identified by the parents of a changeling, and guided by the child of the one who made the prophesy. Which is why, every time a child is born to our family, we help a Changeling find their home on earth.”
Rachel’s grandmother opened the leather bound book in front of them to a page where the writing was less worn than the rest of the manuscript.
“Wait, and you think I’m…? No, I’m supposed to be on Broadway. I am going to be a star and no one can stop me.” Rachel stomped her foot rather impressively for a teenager who was sitting down. “Besides, there are plenty of vampires at school but they are all lower levels, none with the lineage that Cortez boasts.”
“Rachel, dearie, please just read. It may make more sense later, your father’s and I do not even know fully what it means yet. It also does not mean that you cannot achieve your dreams. We do not have the original curse, that remains with Cortez’s line. However, we do have a prophesy made for you when you were born, and you may have more insight into it than either of your father’s or I.”
When her grandmother told her to do something in that tone, and with such a valid explination Rachel was not one to disobey and this time was no different. She turned to the words that were written in a strange language, the Witches Runes (not to be confused with Scandinavian runes of course) which Rachel had learned to read at an early age.
“When the last of the children reaches an age,
They will find each other in a fit of rage.
Not knowing the consequences she may seek,
Two are made whole as love makes its peak.
Joined they will be by brothers in arms,
To fight the one that harms
The balance.
The Wolves will rise to meet the attack,
Defend they will their chosen Pack.
One from each story will join,
Each a side of a dangerous coin.
This child’s task it is to find the treasure Cortez lost,
To find each player, but beware the cost.
A lone one, of family no more,
One of the same kind lost and sore.
One half of the others and a more dangerous breed,
Beware that this one may spread his seed.
Protective they will be of this one,
Except when it hinders their own fun.
Her mate will know them.
A family will be made by those not of her blood,
Choose she can not, be she risking a flood.
Love her they will, though they will not show,
Until the time is right and that she should know.
One of giants, Sirens and Sidhe
Two from a land across the largest sea,
They will find the girl.
Torment she will have when young,
To prepare her for a battle not yet sung.
Together pack and hidden family fight,
The last battle will be met one night.
If all goes well, then she will know,
The reward of a prince’s love in the snow.
Forever together, they will find their dreams.
“Granny, what… what does this mean?”
“You will find out in time dear. It is probably quite simple if you think on it for a while. You must be very careful of the wording however, some words in The Language do not have gender assigned to them, so it may be hard to find the players in this drama. The last lines appear clear though. You will find a lover, and together you will right some sort of imbalance and if you succeed you will, for lack of a better term, live happily ever after.”
Rachel, of course being Rachel, only focused on the most Disney like portion of the prophesy. She would find her prince and they will live happily ever after. She wondered who it was. She doubted it was Finn, he had a good heart but she just couldn’t deal with his hulking drama anymore. He was worse than an emo band with his sad puppy dog eyes and his inability to want what he had after getting it. She doubted it was Noah, he was far too promiscuous. Sam had potential. He could have the star power she needed to rise in the ranks of Broadway and Hollywood.
She was still contemplating which of the boys would be her leading man, and which spell components would be best for a potion to de-gnome their garden and ward off pixies, when she walked into Mr. Schuester’s class. As she was handing her note to him she caught a whiff of something outside her aura, as if she were being drawn to something. It felt like an electromagnet, and she looked up as Mr. Schue told her to take her seat. She instantly met chocolate colored eyes that were so intense she wanted to look away, but she could not manage to break eye contact.
She opened up with her third eye, what she called the part of her that allowed her to see auras, and gasped. She knew there were unnaturals like her wandering around the school, and she knew some of them were pretty powerful. She just had never taken a chance to look at any of her fellow glee-mates though. She realized a second too late that she was staring into the eyes of none other than Santana Lopez, Head Bitch of the Cheerios and, apparently, a much more powerful vampire than Rachel had given her credit for.
She nearly groaned as she saw the blood red aura around her previous tormentor, it was contained, much more so than those of their other classmates (and why was Brittany’s that bright green color? Humans usually had a darker shade.) and was strong, more concentrated than any she’d ever seen before. As she saw the vampire’s thin fangs drop down she felt and saw a piece of it reach out to her and she was suddenly and uncomfortably aware that she had been aroused since she walked in the room.
She managed to break eye contact as Mr. Schuester was walking back up to the white board, when the vamps attention was taken off of her by several of their fellow friends in glee club. She realized she had been walking towards the Latina, though had thankfully been released from that strange hold as she passed her seat. She took a second to look around the room, no one else seemed to notice anything wrong, aside from Brittany who gave her a big grin and Sam and Quinn who both had quizzical looks on their faces. She felt her eyes drift again, this time downward as she took in the look of the vampire. She was not in Cheerio’s uniform yet, as she took in the low cut top and black jeans she shuddered. It wasn’t the first time she had admired Santana Lopez’s assets. Sure, she liked boys but that didn’t stop her from looking on occasion. She was sure, however, that this was the first time she had blatantly run her eyes over the Latina and had her acknowledge it with that little smirk, made all the more intimidating by the fangs she could tell had still not retracted.
She sat down, panting lightly from the exertion the little display had cost her, and trying to concentrate on the lesson. It was not an easy task, considering she felt eyes on her neck the entire time.
The fact that she kind of liked it certainly didn’t help in her attempt to pay attention.
A/N: Comment people! I love hearing what you guys think!.
Author: Helion
Chapter: Prologue
Pairing: Rachel/Santana
Rating: PG-13 for language (NC-17 over all for violence and sexytimes).
Summary: An ages old prophesy foretells the rising of a dangerous power and taboo love between a vampire and a witch. The fact that that vampire is popular HBIC Santana Lopez only complicates matters when it is reveled that her mate is meant to be none other than her Glee captain Rachel Berry. She finds, strangely, that lack of attraction is not going to be her biggest problem. It's keeping her hands off Rachel long enough to figure out what exactly the prophesy means and how long they have before their lives, and the lives of all those in Glee Club, are turned upside down or destroyed completely. Not to mention Rachel's still not going to let them forget about Sectionals, even with a dangerous villain breathing down their necks.
Warnings: Language and Violence. And Santana's general lack of control.
Spoilers: Just about anything is game.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, we wouldn't NEED fanfiction. Also, Glee would prolly be on Showtime, because the places that my brain takes them are not FCC compatible.
A/N: So yeah, I decided to post this. Hope you guys like it... and don't worry, there I won't make you wait too long for the sexytimes! Let's just see how long these too can keep their hands off of each other.
Prologue: Santana
Santana crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, suppressing the groan she felt like letting out and turning it into a growl that scared a sophomore sitting next to her.
It was no secret that Santana was a member of a very old, very powerful vampire clan that basically dominated the Midwest. There was a ton of misconception on her species at the moment, seeing as everyone was still turning over the Revelation a few years ago when the rest of the supernatural community came out of their proverbial broom closets. She was the only upper-echelon vamp that stalked McKinley’s hallways, oh there were plenty lower and mid levels wandering around, but most of them had parents that were turned in the last century. Santana was the oldest daughter in a long line of vamps leading back, some say, to biblical times.
Fortunately, most of the myths had been dispelled, and Santana’s family had decided to remain coffined until it had blown over. There were still some floating about and as with anything newsworthy, wackos that thought they knew everything and preached about the horror of ‘undead life’.
Ok, sure, yes, they could turn people into vampires. No, they didn’t do it often because it was a process that took years and usually only was used on a lover or friend who agreed to accompany you, were you to decide on the Final Change; unless you ran across one of the freaks that had been psychotic before they changed… and there were sadly plenty of them still out there. Yes, she was ‘alive’ for now. Yes, her parents, thankfully, were still ‘alive’. No, her grandparents were not; and yes, she still called them every Sunday like a good granddaughter.
She could walk in the sun and did NOT sparkle. The first person to suggest that walked away with a broken face with very little effort on Santana’s part. She did have to wear sunglasses often when outside though because she had inherited a living vamps eyesight in spades.
She got along with her werewolf friends just fine, though her parents didn’t really like them much it wasn’t as forbidden; her line, having changed with the times to survive, was much more progressive than some of the other clans were. She even dated an Elf for a little while, before deciding that her tastes ran far too dark for Brittany; because, yes, she was still a monster and a hunter somewhere deep down past the soul that would remain with her until she decided whether or not there was an afterlife for those born and not bitten.
Speaking of the Elf, she leaned over and patted Santana’s hand.
“San, don’t scare the normies. It’s not cool.”
Santana simply snickered, sending a friendly smirk to her best friend, and went back to drawing in her notebook.
This class was ridiculous. Why she was in a Spanish class in the first place was a wonder, seeing as how she’d practically known how to speak the language since birth. She was contemplating a nap when suddenly she caught a whiff of something that had her fangs descending of their own free will.
She looked up quickly, a growl on her lips and ready to jump on the source, when she met the eyes of none other than Rachel Berry, good witch and social pariah, handing a note to Mr. Schuester.
In an extremely short skirt and low cut top.
That wasn’t the weird part, Santana had often found herself staring at the girl’s (surprisingly) nice rack and legs that could kill. What was weird was the aura of power suddenly around the girl, and the scent of… something… that made Santana want to exit her seat and steal the girl away right that second.
“Mine.”
She didn’t realize that the growl had escaped her lips, albeit thankfully in a low tone that only a few around her with advanced hearing could hear.
Puck gave her a quizzical look and mouthed ‘down girl’. The half wolf, half incubus obviously had not sensed what Santana had. Brittany, for some reason gave her a huge smile. Quinn and Sam, the other wolves in the room, turned and raised eyebrows. Thank god the only supernatural’s in the class were her friends. Even more so, Santana was thankful that only Brittany knew her little secret. The others thought her fangs only descended when she was pissed, or needed to feed.
She wasn’t sure it was a good thing, that she was content enough with her sexuality by this point in her life that she could admit to herself she definitely wanted to feed on something.
And that something was not limited to Rachel Berry’s blood.
Prologue: Rachel
Rachel Berry nearly skipped down the hall on the way to Mr. Schuester’s class with her tardy note in her hand. She had had the best summer, extending into that morning when her fathers woke her up with a surprise gift that she had spent a good chunk of the morning going over with them.
She had spent the summer honing her power, learning to look beyond people’s faces. Learning new spells and potions and one extremely exiting prophesy handed down from her grandmother on her Daddy’s side. She let her mind drift back to a month ago, at her grandmother’s cottage.
“Granny, I don’t know why you insist on living all the way out here when you have plenty of money.”
“Its close to nature deary… you should like it. It’s in your blood.”
“Oh, I do love it granny, I just simply cannot see myself living here for the rest of my life. You know it’s my dream to live in New York.”
“Yes. Well. As long as you visit your old grandmother whenever you can, I suppose I can get some sense into you yet girl. Though, now that your daddies left, I can show you this.” The older woman rose, going for an old leather bound book on the bookshelf. She returned and flipped to a page near the end of the book. The others beyond it looked blank.
“We’ve been saving this for your 18th birthday, but your father’s and I figured now may be better. There have been strange energies in the air, and you may need to know this now.”
“Granny?”
“Whenever one from our family is born, a prophesy is made by the parents of a Changeling child. You remember when I taught you about Changlings, correct?”
“Yes, Granny. They are Faerie’s, Elves or other creatures from the Fae realms. They’re parents give them up, in exchange for a human child, because for some reason the child cannot, or is not supposed to, grow up in the Fae realms.”
“Yes, and I have helped several sets of Fae parents help their children find homes here that will fit them. Sometimes, even, they can be given to Changeling families. Those that have found their heritage and found a mate in one of their own. Anyway, Rachel, when you were born a prophecy was made. It’s fairly vague, but possibly the most important in our line since its beginning. You see, you only know part of the story of our history. You know how we arrived here from Europe, and that we are one of the oldest families of European witches on American soil. However, there is something you do not yet know. Have you heard of the conquistador Hernando Cortez?”
“Yes, of course. We went over him in history class this last year.”
“Well, there are things your human teachers do not bother to tell you. There was a reason Cortez was so ruthless. The way in which he managed to obliterate the Aztec people. He was from a very old family of living vampires.”
“Ok…”
“You see, when your great-great-great-great grandfather visited Spain with his family, he met Cortez before he left for the America’s. After a short time knowing her he had taken an unhealthy interest in my great-great grandmother that was unrequited. Though he insisted she returned his love, after only knowing each other briefly her father had to refuse his proposal of marriage as he had already been married. Cortez, being a proud man, and Rachel being a young woman-“
“Wait. Her name was Rachel?”
“Yes, dearie, who do you think your named after? Anyway, Rachel being the headstrong young woman she was agreed with Cortez that her father was following ancient prejudices. However, she was simply the oldest daughter and as such the one to pass on the magic most strongly. Her father could not allow her to follow Cortez, a vampire, across the sea.”
“What does this have to do with me Granny? This all happened hundreds of years ago.”
“It is your history darling. However, as it happens, Cortez made a prediction, or possibly a curse, that a descendant of his would meet the last of our pure line in a test. They would put to rest an old animosity, and save ‘an endangered people’ from war. They would be identified by the parents of a changeling, and guided by the child of the one who made the prophesy. Which is why, every time a child is born to our family, we help a Changeling find their home on earth.”
Rachel’s grandmother opened the leather bound book in front of them to a page where the writing was less worn than the rest of the manuscript.
“Wait, and you think I’m…? No, I’m supposed to be on Broadway. I am going to be a star and no one can stop me.” Rachel stomped her foot rather impressively for a teenager who was sitting down. “Besides, there are plenty of vampires at school but they are all lower levels, none with the lineage that Cortez boasts.”
“Rachel, dearie, please just read. It may make more sense later, your father’s and I do not even know fully what it means yet. It also does not mean that you cannot achieve your dreams. We do not have the original curse, that remains with Cortez’s line. However, we do have a prophesy made for you when you were born, and you may have more insight into it than either of your father’s or I.”
When her grandmother told her to do something in that tone, and with such a valid explination Rachel was not one to disobey and this time was no different. She turned to the words that were written in a strange language, the Witches Runes (not to be confused with Scandinavian runes of course) which Rachel had learned to read at an early age.
“When the last of the children reaches an age,
They will find each other in a fit of rage.
Not knowing the consequences she may seek,
Two are made whole as love makes its peak.
Joined they will be by brothers in arms,
To fight the one that harms
The balance.
The Wolves will rise to meet the attack,
Defend they will their chosen Pack.
One from each story will join,
Each a side of a dangerous coin.
This child’s task it is to find the treasure Cortez lost,
To find each player, but beware the cost.
A lone one, of family no more,
One of the same kind lost and sore.
One half of the others and a more dangerous breed,
Beware that this one may spread his seed.
Protective they will be of this one,
Except when it hinders their own fun.
Her mate will know them.
A family will be made by those not of her blood,
Choose she can not, be she risking a flood.
Love her they will, though they will not show,
Until the time is right and that she should know.
One of giants, Sirens and Sidhe
Two from a land across the largest sea,
They will find the girl.
Torment she will have when young,
To prepare her for a battle not yet sung.
Together pack and hidden family fight,
The last battle will be met one night.
If all goes well, then she will know,
The reward of a prince’s love in the snow.
Forever together, they will find their dreams.
“Granny, what… what does this mean?”
“You will find out in time dear. It is probably quite simple if you think on it for a while. You must be very careful of the wording however, some words in The Language do not have gender assigned to them, so it may be hard to find the players in this drama. The last lines appear clear though. You will find a lover, and together you will right some sort of imbalance and if you succeed you will, for lack of a better term, live happily ever after.”
Rachel, of course being Rachel, only focused on the most Disney like portion of the prophesy. She would find her prince and they will live happily ever after. She wondered who it was. She doubted it was Finn, he had a good heart but she just couldn’t deal with his hulking drama anymore. He was worse than an emo band with his sad puppy dog eyes and his inability to want what he had after getting it. She doubted it was Noah, he was far too promiscuous. Sam had potential. He could have the star power she needed to rise in the ranks of Broadway and Hollywood.
She was still contemplating which of the boys would be her leading man, and which spell components would be best for a potion to de-gnome their garden and ward off pixies, when she walked into Mr. Schuester’s class. As she was handing her note to him she caught a whiff of something outside her aura, as if she were being drawn to something. It felt like an electromagnet, and she looked up as Mr. Schue told her to take her seat. She instantly met chocolate colored eyes that were so intense she wanted to look away, but she could not manage to break eye contact.
She opened up with her third eye, what she called the part of her that allowed her to see auras, and gasped. She knew there were unnaturals like her wandering around the school, and she knew some of them were pretty powerful. She just had never taken a chance to look at any of her fellow glee-mates though. She realized a second too late that she was staring into the eyes of none other than Santana Lopez, Head Bitch of the Cheerios and, apparently, a much more powerful vampire than Rachel had given her credit for.
She nearly groaned as she saw the blood red aura around her previous tormentor, it was contained, much more so than those of their other classmates (and why was Brittany’s that bright green color? Humans usually had a darker shade.) and was strong, more concentrated than any she’d ever seen before. As she saw the vampire’s thin fangs drop down she felt and saw a piece of it reach out to her and she was suddenly and uncomfortably aware that she had been aroused since she walked in the room.
She managed to break eye contact as Mr. Schuester was walking back up to the white board, when the vamps attention was taken off of her by several of their fellow friends in glee club. She realized she had been walking towards the Latina, though had thankfully been released from that strange hold as she passed her seat. She took a second to look around the room, no one else seemed to notice anything wrong, aside from Brittany who gave her a big grin and Sam and Quinn who both had quizzical looks on their faces. She felt her eyes drift again, this time downward as she took in the look of the vampire. She was not in Cheerio’s uniform yet, as she took in the low cut top and black jeans she shuddered. It wasn’t the first time she had admired Santana Lopez’s assets. Sure, she liked boys but that didn’t stop her from looking on occasion. She was sure, however, that this was the first time she had blatantly run her eyes over the Latina and had her acknowledge it with that little smirk, made all the more intimidating by the fangs she could tell had still not retracted.
She sat down, panting lightly from the exertion the little display had cost her, and trying to concentrate on the lesson. It was not an easy task, considering she felt eyes on her neck the entire time.
The fact that she kind of liked it certainly didn’t help in her attempt to pay attention.
A/N: Comment people! I love hearing what you guys think!.