Allison stood pacing back and forth in her bedroom trying to figure out the point of all the sacrifices. Earlier in the week she and Isaac had found some of her dad's markings on where each sacrifice took place, and who was killed. Though there was a clear pattern, philosophers, virgins, healers, and warriors, she still had no idea why these innocent people were being killed.

Just as a thought occurred to Allison, it was interrupted by a soft shuffling noise outside her window. Allison drew out her favorite dagger and prepared to grab whatever was outside her window.
As she peered out her window she saw a flash of fabric in the moonlight, grabbed it, and had the person pinned on the floor in three seconds flat. Her father's hand on hand combat lessons had paid off after all.
While straddling the body pinned underneath her, Allison then had the chance to look at the face.
"Isaac?" Allison asked.
"Yup, it's me, now as hot as this is, you're crushing my balls."
"Oh, sorry," Allison said embarrassed, "I thought you were someone else."
"I was just kidding," Isaac said laughing, "no need to be embarrassed, but it is awfully cute when your cheeks turn all pink like that." At this Allison blushed even further, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red.
Since Allison still hadn't moved off of Isaac, he flipped her onto her back so that he was now straddling her. Then, leaning down over her, be began to kiss his way up her neck, starting at her collarbone. Allison groaned as he leaned over her, and sick of the torture, moved her face so that their lips touched. Sparks ignited between their lips and they began kissing fiercely, still on Allison's floor. Isaac's tongue flicked across Allison's lower lip and she immediately opened her lips. Isaac lifted her shirt up just over her belly button and moved down to kiss her stomach. He continued to inch her shirt up just over her lacy bra. Isaac leaned down to kiss each of her breasts which were protruding from her bra. Allison moaned, and began to lift Isaac's shirt, seeing what she was doing, he pulled the shirt over his head.
Allison gazed at the sculpted muscles that covered his stomach. When she looked up, Isaac was giving her an intense look that she was sure she'd never seen on his face before. But as briefly as she had seen it, it disappeared. Instead he smiled and flipped so that she was now on top. In doing so, her foot caught the edge of her nightstand, shaking it and knocking the lamp onto the floor.

The lamp hit the floor with a loud crash, and then shattered on the floor. Allison heard a door slam downstairs and then the banging of feet on the stairs. In half a second, Isaac was out from underneath her and in the closet. Allison quickly adjusted her shirt, just as her dad slammed her bedroom door open and rushed inside.
"What was that," her dad exclaimed, then taking in the shattered lamp on the floor, asked a different question. "How did you break the lamp," he asked instead.
"I was practicing my kicks, and I accidentally kicked the table and knocked the lamp over," Allison said.
"I'll go get a vacuum and a broom," her dad said, and then added, "You do realize that we have whole training room to practice in, right?" He wasn't sure what Allison said in response because he noticed the men's shirt sticking out partway from underneath her bed. Being the good father that he was he decided not to bring it up. He'd rather not know what was going on with his little girl behind the closed bedroom door.
Isaac emerged from the closet, "so you're practicing your kicking moves, huh, that's what you call this," he motioned to the space on the floor where they had been only moments ago.
"I'll be practicing my kicking moves on you if you don't shut up and get back in the closet before my dad comes back," Allison said.
"Fine, fine," Isaac said, putting up his hands and backing into the closet.
"Okay," Allison's dad said, "here's the dustpan, broom, and vacuum. I'm sure you can clean it up yourself, so I'll leave you to your-," he gestured around the room, "whatever you were doing."

Just as the door clicked shut behind Mr. Argent, Isaac fell out of the closet laughing until his face turned bright red.
"Shut up," Allison said, "he'll hear you."
"Oh trust me; he already knows I'm here," Isaac said, still laughing.
"What, how? You were in the closet."
"Yes but I can hear him muttering to himself about how it better not be another werewolf. And my shirt is still sticking out from under your bed."
"Dammit Isaac this is all your fault."
"Technically," Isaac said, lifting a finger, "this is your fault. You're the one who took off my shirt."
"Get out," she said, shoving Isaac's shirt into his chest and pushing him towards the window playfully.
"Make me," he said, pinning her against the wall and bending down so that their faces were level.
"I guess I'll just have to do my worst to you then,'' Allison said just before shoving him onto her bed and straddling his hips.