Maya woke up with a bird on her face.

She wrinkled her nose and blew out air from between pursed lips, making the sparrow move from her nose to her forehead. She sat up and groaned, watching the bird flit away in sudden alarm.

Rapid-moving memories burned in her mind, causing nearly as much pain as the throbbing in her temples and the dry scratchiness of her throat. She was surprised the scar on her neck didn't set the dry leaves around her on fire; it felt like she was pressing her neck to a hot stove. Closing her eyes and seizing her head, she tried to make the memories dreamlike and hazy, tried to convince herself that she had imagined the whole thing, but everything stayed clear and painfully sharp.

Her splitting headache and wildly sloshing stomach didn't help, either, although they were nowhere near as bad as the first time.

The first time... had the same thing happened? She had been attacked by... a vampire? How was that even possible? Vampires didn't exist. It was ridiculous. It was probably just some blood-sucking loony who escaped from a mental hospital, or a twisted, insane criminal from the nearest prison. Somehow, even those scary ideas seemed preferable to a vampire.

Maya slowly got to her feet, cracking all the tight places that came from sleeping in the dirt. Squirming through the thick bushes, she made her way out onto the sidewalk, picking leaves out of her hair.

Squinting against the blinding morning sun, she straightened her clothes- stiff with dirt and muck- and started plodding to the bus stop. The sun danced through wispy clouds, lancing bright light into her eyes every few seconds so that her eyes could never open fully without being blinded. Her skin was hot too, getting that stiff, tight feeling that sunburns gave you.

Avoiding the disapproving eyes of passengers who clearly assumed she was a homeless druggie, Maya flopped down in a seat near the front and leaned her head against the cool window glass, letting it bounce with the motion of the bus.

"Do you need anything, dear? Food, money-"

"Hey, hey. I'm not a freaking prostitute or whatever it is you think I am. I just had a rough night. okay? Leave me alone," Maya snapped irritably, catching a glance of the mixed affronted and pitying look on the woman's face as she moved to another seat.

Bouncing impatiently, Maya watched the familiar buildings of her street pass by.

"Hey, you. Let me off," Maya said, tapping the bus driver on the shoulder. Glaring at her, he pulled the brake as roughly as he could, jerking Maya forward and smashing her nose against the seat in front of her.

"Jerk," she growled as she passed by, aiming a kick at his ankle that missed and his the side of his seat and hurt her toe.

Maya limped up the stairs to her apartment and fumbled with the key for at least five minutes before she managed to fit it into the keyhole and get it turned. She stumbled in, slamming the door behind her, and went straight for the couch.

Unfortunately, there was already someone sitting on it.

If it had been possible for her jaw to fall off and hit the floor, it would have. There was Marco, looking jumpy and skittish, his eyes darting everywhere at once. They jumped in tandem as their eyes met, and rapidly looked away.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Maya said, her voice coming out much too loud. Marco flinched and looked at the floor.

"Maya," he said without emotion, making a quick little motion with his arms as though he wanted to hug her, but was restraining himself. Maya caught the movement, though, and latched onto it.

"What, you won't even touch me? Won't even apologize for abandoning me after I'd been attacked by some crazy psychopath fresh out of a loony bin?"

"Is that the story you've been telling yourself?" Marco mumbled, sighing. "Oh, Maya." His voice broke.

"Telling myself? Do you know something about this, Marco?" He finally raised his eyes to meet hers. They were agonized.

"Tell me, Maya, what was your first thought when you woke up wherever that thing left you?" His voice shook with anger, but it was not directed at her. "What was your first assumption about what had happened?"

Her mind whispered the answer in her head (vampire, vampire), but Maya ignored it.

"You knew this would happen? Why didn't you protect me, Marco? Why didn't you keep me safe?" Maya was struggling violently to keep her tears from overflowing.

"Why didn't you keep me safe?" she whispered.

Silence hung in the air as Marco buried his face in his hands.

"There's so much you don't know!" he moaned, shaking his head. "And so much I can't tell you! I can't keep you safe, Maya, I can't! I'm not even supposed to be here! If they knew, they'd kill me. You're already tainted, Maya, you're unsafe, I can't be around you..." His fingers kneaded into his forehead.

Maya sat on the floor, supporting her head on her fists. So many questions ran through her head in a torrent; who are they, what did he mean by tainted and unsafe, why did he sound so serious when he said they'd kill him...?

"Marco..." she said slowly. "My first thought? It was 'vampire.'"

Taking his face out of his hands, Marco stared at her, deadly serious.

"Yes."