"You're deluded."
Erik had to admit that he was growing tired of her shouts and snaps at him. He made a motion to roll his eyes, shaking his head as he finished packing the small bag which he had carried around with him for weeks on end during his vendetta to find Schmidt.
He'd gagged the girl to leave and fetch her some normal clothes, deciding it would be for the best. It was soon as he removed the strip of tape from her mouth when he heard her speak again. Erik slowly untied her wrists and ankles, watching with a nonchalant expression as she made a feeble attempt to scramble from the bed.
Erik's arm wrapped around her waist as he dragged her back.
"How many times do you intend to defy me?" he wondered from her.
"How many times do I have to tell you that my dad did nothing to you?" Grace retorted.
Erik's brow furrowed. How did this girl not know who her father was? Was Schmidt that good a liar? Erik didn't know. He supposed she was living proof of his callous behaviour.
"Just keep quiet," he growled lowly. "Get changed. We're flying to Argentina."
"Why do you need me for this?" Grace complained as Erik thrust the bag of clothes to her.
He suppressed a groan, wondering if he could simply just gag her for the entire journey. It would make his life easier, he knew that much.
"You are going to take me to him. You know where he could be, and I don't. So shut up and do as you're told."
"No need to be rude," Grace hissed. "Besides, I keep telling you that you have the wrong girl. My dad is a businessman."
"If your dad is so rich then why do you work at some grubby little diner? Why does daddy not keep you with him?" Erik drawled; his tone of wonder and sarcasm.
He watched with intrigue as Grace snatched the bag he was holding out to her. She took it into her hands, her glare not once leaving Erik's face as she did so.
"Like I said," Grace drawled, "we aren't that close."
"Apparently not," Erik mumbled. "Go and get changed."
"Jesus!" Grace yelled out in frustration. "You don't need to be so bossy about everything, do you?"
Erik didn't reply as he threw his bag onto his shoulder and waited for Grace to come out of the bathroom. Erik had checked the lock on the bathroom window, securing it before she went in to change. It took her a few moments to come back out, her body now covered in a black skirt and normal white top. She was fiddling with her hair, trying to place it into a ponytail as Erik grew impatient.
He had managed to go back to her apartment and find her passport for the journey.
He took hold of her wrist and began to drag her from the motel. She said nothing for the entire journey to the airport, deciding that it would be for the best. She was well aware that Erik Lensherr was a man on a mission. He just had the wrong girl with him.
"How did you get my passport?" Grace decided to ask once they had passed the check in desk.
"I found out about you, didn't I?" Erik rhetorically asked. "It wasn't as difficult as you seem to believe."
He kept her by his side for the entire time, his hand on the small of her back as they stood in the departure lounge. Erik took a seat on the metal chairs, leaning back and dumping his bag on the floor. Grace sat beside him, running her hands through her hair as she did so.
"How did this happen?" she mumbled to herself. "One minute I was working, the next I'm being held hostage by some deranged German."
"I'm hardly deranged," Erik scoffed. "That's your father."
"Why do you keep saying that?" Grace hissed.
Erik turned his head to the side, regarding her with annoyance for a brief second. She said nothing as Erik grabbed his bottle of water and drained the contents of it, leaving none for her. She looked put out for a moment, deciding to keep quiet as Erik looked back to her.
"It's true," Erik assured her. "I don't take little girls hostage for no apparent reason."
"Really?" Her brow arched. "It seems to me that is exactly what you're doing, you idiot."
"You've seen my arm," Erik said. "You know where I spent my childhood."
"I know," Grace replied, not too sure how she should approach that subject. She didn't really want to talk about it with him. "But my dad was not involved in that. You need to believe me."
"And I would," Erik agreed, "but I know differently."
"I don't think you do," Grace whispered. "I don't know who you are, or what you are, but please, just let me go."
Erik looked to her pleading face as they sat in the corner and out of the way in the airport. She was looking at him with wide eyes, her face softening under his gaze.
What he was. No, he supposed she didn't know what he was. He didn't want to reply to her after that. She had no idea what she was saying to him.
"No," Erik harshly replied. "I am what I am because of your father. He didn't give me my...ability...he experimented on me...did things which you couldn't comprehend."
Grace continued to shake her head during his revelation. She refused to believe that he was talking about her father. He just couldn't be. Erik said nothing more to her before he noted a tear fall down her cheek. She rubbed it away just as quickly as it had fallen. He felt nothing at seeing her in distress.
She was a human.
She was his daughter.
She repulsed him. Everything that she was made him disgusted with himself for having to bring her with him. He supposed it would hurt her to see what Erik intended to do to her father. Hopefully he would manage to get rid of her by then.
...
"This is it."
Erik looked down the hill to the villa. The scenery was picturesque; Erik was willing to accept that. He looked around the mountains and hills as he kept his fingers wrapped tightly around her elbow. He had been pushing her for the majority of the walk, making sure she couldn't escape his gaze. She'd stumbled most of the way due to his pace, complaining as she went.
"And how did daddy afford this?" Erik sneered. "Did the Nazis give him a good pay packet?"
"My dad is no Nazi," Grace hissed back. "I've told you that already. He is friends with those men in that tavern. What do you intend to do to them?"
Erik continued to push her down the hill as she looked up at him. The sunglasses and hat he wore clouded most of his expression as he refused to answer her question. He held his jacket over his shoulder as Grace pulled at the skirt she wore; mainly annoyed that it was a bit too short for her.
"You are aware that those men in there have seen me."
"When did they last see you?"
"A few years ago," Grace replied. "My dad could be in there. You can't do anything to hurt him...he's my dad..."
"He's a monster," Erik retorted. "Now you're to be a good girl, do you understand me?"
"And if I'm not?" Grace challenged.
Erik jutted his chin out as he slowed his pace at seeing the door he was about to enter. He shook his head at her, a small smirk coming onto his face as he slowly moved his fingers to the locket which sat on her chest, making it hover in the air above her neck.
"You don't really want to know, do you, Grace?" Erik solemnly replied.
She clamped her mouth shut, her jaw tensing before she snatched the locket from the air and allowed it to fall back to her chest. Smirking, Erik patted her on the shoulder before opening the door.
"Good girl."
Grace grunted something unladylike to him before daring to follow him into the tavern. She looked around as the air filled with cigarette smoke. Erik strolled ahead to the bar as Grace stood in the background, looking for any sign of her father. One of the men turned their heads to notice her stood there.
"Grace!" he called out.
He could recognise Shaw's daughter from anywhere. She smiled at him, folding her arms as Erik turned his glare onto her. They all noted the way the two of them were looking at each other.
"Do you know him?"
"Yes," Erik spoke for her, his gaze turning slightly softer as he did so.
Grace attempted to recall the names of the three men, finally managing to do so. Christian sat at the far end of the table, drawling on his cigarette, whilst Lukas drained the beer he was drinking and Max stood behind the bar.
"I have been courting Miss Shaw here for a while," Erik declared, motioning for Grace to come closer to him. She regarded the men with worry for a moment as she passed their table and stood by Erik's side. His arm wrapped around her waist as the men looked slightly unconvinced.
"Grace tells me her father owns this villa,"
"Ya," Lukas nodded. "Sebastian hasn't been here in a while though."
"I see," Erik drawled, taking hold of Grace by the hand. He led her to the table, sitting down besides her on the empty bench as he held the beer he had ordered. "She told me that her father had some German friends."
Grace's mind completely wandered as she heard Erik lapse into German. She said nothing, only managing to pick up on a few words which he spoke. Dussledorf was definitely easy to understand. She watched on as Erik toasted with her father's friends and began to drain his beer, his gaze flitting between the two of them.
A moment of hesitancy came over her as she felt the atmosphere in the room change. Erik lowered his glass back down, the motion slow before he turned his arm around, revealing the numbers to the men. Grace didn't quite understand the reasoning behind it, but their expressions changed in an instant.
Lukas was the first to react, moving his hand into his pocket and drawing a knife from it. He moved to attack Erik, but was intercepted as the young man grabbed his arm and snatched the knife from him. Grace shrieked as Erik moved his other arm and nudged her from the bench, pushing her to the floor as she heard a piercing shriek fill the air.
Looking back up she saw Max emerge from the bar, a gun in his hand as Erik slowly made him turn the device and shoot Christian in the chest. He stumbled back as Erik pulled the dagger from Lukas's hand and flung it at Max. Grace felt her body fill with horror as he drew the dagger back to him and placed it back in Lukas's hand, another scream sounding from the man.
Erik pulled back for a moment as Grace scrambled to her feet, watching as he drained off his beer and Lukas looked at her, his gaze wide and somewhat accusing.
He spoke to Erik once more, the pleading in his voice beyond recognition.
"Let's just say I'm Frankenstein's monster," Erik drawled, his gaze looking to Grace as her legs shook beneath her and she struggled to comprehend what she had just seen from Erik. He stood up and moved over to the wall of the tavern, looking to a picture which contained her father and his friends. Grace slumped down against the bar, her legs finally giving out on her.
"And I'm looking for my creator," Erik whispered as the gun moved through the air and into his hand. He fired the final bullet and Lukas turned silent.
The entire room smelt horrific to Grace's nose. She looked around at the three dead before looking back to Erik. He moved to pick the knife from Lukas's hand, looking at the words which sat on the knife. He dropped it on the floor by her, his eyes fixed on the blood.
"Blood and honour."
Grace looked at the words, noting the German writing there.
"A personal favourite of the Hitler Youth."
She didn't dare touch the blooded blade, the fear clouding her senses as she listened to what he had said. And she had no reason to doubt him. The way they had looked at him, the way they had feared him...she knew what he was saying. And then there was the dagger. He couldn't make that up. She gulped loudly and looked back to him, shaking her head back and forth.
"My dad...he can't..." she croaked out, still in denial about her father being a part of this. He would never do anything like this. She refused to believe it.
But there was something nagging at her. There was some horrible part of her which doubted her father. How could she do that? How could she doubt him all because of a stranger keeping her hostage?
"Your father owns a boat in Miami," Erik called out, looking back to the picture on the wall. "Could he be there?"
Grace tore her gaze away from the dagger to look back at Erik. She shook her head back and forth, refusing to believe anything that he said.
"Maybe," Grace admitted. What use was there in lying to him? He'd only find out.
"You still don't believe it, do you?" Erik said, shaking his head in disbelief.
He took a step closer to her, watching as she backed away in fear from him. She hooked her arms around her kneecaps, leaning back as far as she could. He shook his head upon seeing her.
"You killed them," Grace said.
"Trust me," Erik drawled, sitting back down on the bench. He moved forwards and laced his fingers together, dropping them to sit in between his legs. "They've killed a lot more people than I have."
"And you're going to kill my dad." Grace drawled. "You're going to do that to him, aren't you?"
Erik said nothing. He could hardly confirm or deny it. He chose to keep quiet as Grace shook her head and stood up. She would get to her father before Erik could. She wouldn't let him hurt her father.
"You won't," she defended him. "My father can't have known what these men were like...he...he couldn't have known..."
Erik allowed a dark chuckle to escape his lips.
"You're a naive girl."
"And you're psychotic," Grace replied. "I'm going nowhere with you."
She strode forwards as fast as possible, her long strides causing her skirt to ride up her thighs. She moved past the seat which Erik was sat on. He stood up after a second, catching her up with ease. His hand wrapped around her upper arm and he dragged her back to him, managing to hold her wrists in his grip. She attempted to hit him, demanding him to let her go.
"Why do you fight when you know you can't win?" asked Erik, keeping her at a distance from him as she finally stopped her fighting.
"My dad couldn't...he couldn't have done this..."
"Keep telling yourself that," Erik drawled, wondering if she would cooperate now. It turned out he didn't have to wonder for long as she stopped hitting against him and resorted to crying again.
...
Sebastian Shaw lounged on the Caspartina, a glass in one hand as he looked to the sky for a moment. He sat on a sun lounger, enjoying the evening sun as it set beyond him. He deduced it would only be a matter of time before Colonel Hendry came to him. Sebastian knew that much.
He took a moment to look across to Emma as he contemplated what his daughter was doing at that moment in time. He barely spoke to Grace, but he often made an effort to have Emma check on her.
"Do you want me to look?"
"Did you read my mind?" Shaw wondered; a small smirk on his face as he looked over to her.
"It is hard not to when you're thinking so hard about her." Emma smirked and closed her eyes. She took a moment to glance around until she focused on the girl.
Shaw remained relaxed until he saw the look on her face. She was scrunching up her nose, her face intense before she opened her eyes. Shaw moved to sit on the side of his lounger, looking at her with wide eyes.
"Your daughter's been kidnapped."
"By who?" Shaw wondered, his voice calm and controlled.
"Erik Lensherr."
Shaw heard himself inwardly groan at the piece of information. He shook his head back and forth and pushed his body from the lounger.
"Find Azazel." Shaw demanded. "Tell him to bring her to me. Now."
...
A/N: Thanks to anyone who has read so far! And to Sheinreen and teamrosalie21137 for reviewing the first chapter. I do hope you'll let me know what you think.