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Synopsis:
In a remote Maine inn by the sea, where Annabelle is supposed to be reconnecting with her father and his new family, she is also falling in love for the first time. But this isn’t a typical teenage romance for the 19 year old. The object of her affection is older and worldly, with pale, aristocratic good looks. And he has a secret—a secret that could destroy Annabelle's family, unless she can prove to him that she isn't just another "target".

Sometimes, one can pinpoint the second their life is ruined. For Annabelle, or as she preferred, Anne, it was when her parents split. She was only six, not old enough to understand why her parents were breaking apart. All she was aware of was her mother cried, & her father was suddenly missing from her life. & now of all times, when she could take care of herself, he cared? Annabelle hated him to her very core. But even so, she was a girl set for college, & with her mother recently passed away, only that traitorous man could support her.

So now, Anne stood at the Maine National airport, waiting for her father to come pick her up & drive her to Hell in his Suburban. By the way, he was only an hour & a half late. Anne crossed her arms crossly, her anger seeping though her veins; so much for him turning over a new leaf. He had a new family, new wife, & still forgot her. Not to mention that because of her goth tendencies, people were staring nice & rudely at the freaky girl.

Suddenly, a pale hand grabbed Anne's shoulder. She tensed & looked up to see well, the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on. His eyes were a aqua hue & his dark hair shone even in the current cloudy weather.

"H-hi..." Anne said shakily, her eyes wide from the surprise. In his hand, he held a picture of her & blushed lightly; her father must have sent him to pick her up.

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And for Maurice, he could very clearly remember the moment his life was ruined. He couldn't remember much of what had happened before that moment, but it had changed his life forever.

He was no longer human.

Oh, the handsome, forever-late-20's man looked it, to all normal appearances. If you were willing to overlook his stunningly good looks, and the unnerving sense that no matter where you went, he was watching you, Maurice looked human. And yet there was always that nagging doubt in the back of your mind...

Maurice liked to play games with himself. Much like a man locked in solitary confinement, Maurice had no real better way to occupy his time. His most recent game involved an unsuspecting, if somewhat torn, family. He was going to see if he could pick them off one by one without the others noticing, until there was one left...

So he'd made friends with the man several years ago, while he was working on another project. The man trusted him completely, which was something that Maurice, the gentleman with the slightly European accent, prided himself on. People never suspected him until it was too late. And now Maurice had offered to pick up the man's oldest daughter, a girl who apparrently the father hadn't seen for thirteen years. A pity, really. If Maurice had any family he would have spent more time than that with them. He thought.

"Annabelle?" he asked, a kind look in his serious face. "Your father sent me to pick you up. I'm sorry I'm late. My name's Maurice," he said, offering her a hand in token of friendship. His eyes took in her somewhat...er, unique appearance and he gave her a rare not-quite-smile.

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Anne took a moment to collect herself before she could function normally. The cool smile that Maurice was giving her was incredibly chilling, a feeling that a goth girl like her would usually like... but she didn't. Why did every part of this man make Anne want to run & scream? Deciding to key on his undeniable attractiveness, Anne shrugged & looked around as others rushed to their lovers & friends. How sweet.

"I'm just ready to get home & rest," Anne grumbled, dropping her duffel bag to rest her hand. She flexed it gently, keeping from letting out a groan. Acting cool & mysterious in front of a whole crowd of locals sure was damned hard work for a girl. She looked up at Maurice with her carbon-black rimmed eyes, pondering what about him made her feel like prey.

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The brief smile on Maurice's face vanished as he nodded. "You must miss your father," he reasoned gently, taking the liberty of reaching down to snatch the duffel bag in his deadly pale clutches. He met her eyes briefly, locking with them as if they truly were, as the saying goes, the window to the soul. And then he looked away and led her out of the airport and to the car that was parked outside; a shiny black Lincoln whose style resembled something more of twenty or thirty years ago, but which seemed in top form. He loaded the bag and held open the passenger door for her, a gesture which was as much habit to him as eating might be for a mortal. He nodded, almost a bow, and got into the driver's seat before driving slowly, methodically away. "I trust you had a good flight." It wasn't a question, really.

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Anne grunted in response, looking outside with boredom. The flight had been a bit on the... boring side. There weren't even any kids that got air-sick & puked on their parents. & Anne loved the chaos they started. But alas, no danger or chaos was started, & Anne found herself sleeping in the middle of the plane movie. Sitting up, she shrugged in a more direct response & looked over to Maurice. He really was a total hottie, & totally goth-worthy too. What she wouldn't give to see him in ripped black jeans & eyeliner.

"To normal people, it was flawless," she told him, jerking herself out of her daze. "Tell me, do you like everything to run on schedule & perfectly, like 93% of the rest of the world?" She looked to him, noticing that he was driving out of town & into the forested areas of her father's home & hotel. She fought the urge to grumble at the nothingness around her & waited for Maurice's answer.

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Maurice's black eyebrows raised a little in curiosity, though he kept his eyes constantly on the road. "There is something to be said for perfection," he replied in a low, quiet tone. Maurice, after all, was perfect. He was the ultimate killing machine, with very few flaws that usually plagued humankind. "Though in perfection itself, there is imperfection," he said very philosophically, though he hadn't really intended it. That was simply the way Maurice spoke. The girl was a strange one, he decided. Definetly not the normal nineteen year old, that was for sure. She seemed to want chaos. Well, it was chaos she was going to get, soon enough.

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Anne couldn't help but watch Maurice for a bit, his attitude towards the conversation a bit distant. He seemed to be deep in thought, but he was answering as though his full attention was on her & the conversation. Anne got her chilling feeling again, but found that she liked it this time. The danger that Maurice gave off attracted her like catnip for her baby Luna. Luna was a furry black cat that Anne had to have sent in earlier than her own arrival. Anne just hoped that Luna didn't try to kill her for being "abandoned."

She sighed to herself & crossed her arms, wondering how much longer she was going to be confined inside metal boxes before she could relax. The more she was with Maurice, the more Anne found herself wanting to stare at him. But she couldn't let herself; she had much more dignity than that. If she had any chance with the mysterious & sexy Maurice, she was going to have to play it cool.

That meant none of her usual spazzing around him; which sucked.

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Maurice remained silent through the rest of the trip, simply enjoying the ride and for once not planning for his most recent project. There was plenty of time for that later, when he could witness family dynamics a little better.

They pulled into Annabelle's father's house and Maurice parked the car before slipping with impossible rapidity to the back where the duffelbag was and picking it up. He looked to Annabelle, deciding at once that she wasn't happy to be here. "I am sorry for your mother," he said in a low, sincere tone. And he was. He knew what it was like to lose a loved one, though admittedly Maurice felt things rather more remotely than humans did. He led her up the drive toward the house.

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Feeling herself stiffen, Anne held back the urge to hiss back at Maurice that she didn't need pity. In all actuality, she didn't. Her mother & she had drifted apart much longer ago, her mother indulging herself in boyfriends & parties while Anne went to raves & discovered life on her own. The woman who had recently died could barely be qualified, as "mother".

Keeping the idea to herself, Anne found Maurice at her side as she walked to the house, his gaze quiet & intent as he got her one bag with impossible speed & grace, holding it away in silent admission that she was not to carry it with him around. She was a bit touched by his kindness, but made sure she wasn't suckered in by it. She was quite aware of the "gentlemanly" type of men, & knew what to look for. However, as Anne knocked on the front door & it slammed open, Anne's step-mother throwing Luna into Anne's arms, Anne never once felt a single ulterior motive escape Maurice's eyes; strange. Luna now hissed in Anne's arms & she petted the cat while Amy Simon, James Simon's (Anne's father) new wife was cussing up a storm.

"You keep that damned hell cat away from me!" Amy yelled. "No one told me that little monster was as psycho as it's owner!" Anne flinched only slightly at Amy's words, but only because Amy had insulted her baby. No one messed with her Luna, especially the woman who'd broken up her mother & father in the first place.

"Shut up, Prom Queen Wannabe," Anne hissed. "Luna just knows how to sense bad people. She loves Tommy... & apparently Mr. Maurice." Amy scowled, Anne now noticing that Luna was staring contently at Maurice, as if she almost worshiped him as a master or close friend.

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Maurice silently watched the exchange between step-mother and -daughter, and looked over, curling a white finger under Luna's chin. "Ladies," he said gently to them both as they went inside. "Let us not raise our words against each other. Annabelle has had a long flight and I'm sure she needs to rest," he said unobtrusively. It wasn't his nature to get involved in others' affairs, but he felt she needed some gentle defending.

Maurice glided to Annabelle's room reserved for her and placed the duffel bag on the bed. "I'm afraid your father may be out." He couldn't decide yet whether he wanted Mr. or Mrs. Simon to drain first. Save the best for last, he always thought. "I think I will stay for dinner, if you'll have me." It was odd for someone to invite themselves to dinner, but for Maurice there was no question in the option.

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