There are a few things that one experiences in life that are impossible to be forgotten. Like hearing your mother being killed by a vampire. Or being kidnapped by said vampire. Or watching a man you thought to be indestructible chained to a floor getting the crap beat out of him. Lucky me, I got to see them all in one night, when I was ten years old. Now, eight years later, those memories still haunt me. Sure, you learn to deal, but the screams never stop; and the blood never goes away. My name is Zoë Sommerfield. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm not a little kid anymore. I haven't been a kid since the night my mother was killed.

My autobiographical train of though was snapped as the lights in the training facility went off. I smirked and let my eyes adjust before slowly scanning the room for the intruder. I've lived in the Honeycomb hideout my whole life, and I know the training room like the back of my hand.

I felt a presence behind me and I turned and kicked the figure. He grabbed my leg mid kick and threw me to the floor. I quickly re-gained my stance and bent down, dodging a punch. I kicked the person's feet out from under them and straddled them on the floor. My hand went around his neck and I felt a wild heart-beat. After a few minutes of gagging, the figure finally gave up.

"Fine, I give, I GIVE ZOE!" King choked out. I smirked once more and removed my hands from, his throat, but remained on top of him.

"Sneaking up on me only worked until I was about ten, King." I stated, laughing.

"Yeah, whatever. I let you win." he reasoned, "Now get off me." I did as he requested, and helped him off of the floor.

"You're getting too old for this King."

"I'm only 30!" he roared. Hannibal King hates it when you remind him how old he is. Granted, he's still in the same shape he was eight years ago. When I was ten, boys still had cooties and I never really appreciated the god-like body King had. Once I hit 15, I realized how amazing good looking Hannibal was. My whole world crashed down about that time. I stopped speaking to him, because every time I tried, I would blush and giggle. It frustrated me because I'd never had that kind of reaction to anyone before, especially KING.

Abby figured it out first, seeing as how she's a girl and all. She took me aside and asked me if I had a crush on King. When I'd furiously shook my head 'no' and looked at my shoes, she knew I was lying. She told me it was okay, and that it was normal and all it was, was a little crush. She then told me that King was worried that I was upset with him. I begged her not to tell and she promised she wouldn't if I would stop avoiding him. I said I would and the subject was dropped.

I've attempted to let go of my infatuation with King ever since I was 15, but instead, it's grown. I've fallen in love with him. The only problem is that he treats me like I'm the eight year old girl I was when my mother was killed. Take the most over-protective father you can think of, and multiply it by ten. King constantly makes me check in, and I don't think I've ever been on a real date or to a real school. King told me once that he'd lost my mom and he 'sure as hell wasn't going to let anything happen to me', therefore, I got to have NO LIFE outside the hideout.

I can barely go out without King waiting up until I get home. I've tried to explain to him how I'm eighteen, and if I really wanted to, I could just leave. He just shakes his head and tells me if I ever did that, he'd hunt me down and tie me to my bed. Once, when I was feeling extra flirty, I told him that I wouldn't mind. He scolded me and walked out of the room. It's not fun getting completely shot down. King specializes in breaking my heart. So here I was, in love with a man who thinks of me like a daughter.

"Zoë?" he asked, snapping me once again out of my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I turned to him, in question.

"Abby and I have to go out again tonight. We'll be back late. Don't wait up." King always told me not to wait up, and yet, I always do.

"You know I will." I told him, rolling my eyes. He laughed and turned to leave.

"I know, I know."

I always worry about Abby and King when they go out to hunt. I always check the profiles and see about how many they have to take down. This gives me an approximate time frame for their hunt. I checked, and tonight's seemed fairly easy. I guessed about an hour, give or take.

When they had been gone almost five hours, my mind went into worry mode major. I called King three times and Abby four. I was convinced that I needed to go out and look for them. Even though King would kill me for it later. I wasn't allowed to be a nightstalker. Abby was all for it, but King was too worried and said I wasn't trained enough yet. As if eight years isn't enough.

I was suiting up to go out when I saw their SUV pull up outside on one of the security camera's. I saw that Abby was driving, which was odd. I then saw her to around to the passenger side and help King out. I gasped as I saw his blood covered face through the monitor. I ran down the stairs and out the door to help Abby. She saw me and smiled at the look of fear on my face.

"He's fine. He just got a little scratched." she said.

"A little scratched?! That bitch tried to claw my eye's out. Then she staked me!" I heard him rant from the inside of the car. "I hate getting staked." he mumbled.

I helped Abby get him inside and up to him room. Abby went to put away their weapons, while I helped King into bed. I peeled his bloody vest and shirt off with some difficulty, frowning at the gashes that plagued his chest. His face was the worst. A long gash went from his eyebrow to his cheek and his lip was bleeding badly. No matter how many times I saw King come home injured, I still couldn't deal with it. My eyes glossed over and I felt tears sliding hotly down my face. King must have saw because he grabbed my hand and mad me sit next to him on the bed.

"Hey now, you and I both know that I've been hurt worse than this-" he began.

"I know, but I still don't like to see you get hurt." I told him quietly. He brushed away a few tears as I began to clean his wounds.

"She put up quite the fight." King said, laughing. "The way she staked me, I'm thinking we invite her to be a nightstalker." King obviously thought this was funny, I however, did not.

"Not funny. Not funny at all, Hannibal." I snapped. He looked taken back at my use of his first name. I only used his first name when I was mad.

"Zo-"

"No, Hannibal. Not this time. I swear to God, if I lose you-"

"Zoë, I'm okay. I promise." he assured me. I rolled my eyes and got up to leave his room.

"Get some rest."

I got to my room and collapsed on my bed in tears. Abby came in a little bit later and laid down next to be silently.

"Abby, one day, he's going to get himself killed. I can't deal with that. I can't lose him too." I cried.

"I know, Zoë. He's careful. He's careful because of you. He does this for you. To protect you from what killed your mom."

"He doesn't act like it." I retorted, bitterly.

Abby sighed and left my room, turning out my light as she went. I hated Hannibal King. I hated him because I loved him so much, and he refused to see it. He always had to protect me, and never let me protect him.

One day he was going to need me. I prayed that it was sooner rather than later.