GENERAL WARNING FOR STORY: ADULTS ONLY. Violence, blood and gore, coarse language, adult themes, coercion, and sexual content. If you don't like it then don't read!

DISCLAIMERS: Same as chapter 1.

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful reviewers* for welcoming me back! You've no idea how much I appreciated your reassurance, it's hard coming back to writing this after so long. I'll keep posting and hope that I can hold your interest! Even if I do go on about boots at the start of this one...

(*I'm currently not counting one review which just called me sick, true as it may be, as I don't know what to make of it. Seems safe to guess they didn't like the story, except they waited till chapter 8 to tell me that? Ah well. I know this story isn't everyone's cup of tea but I don't write it with the intention to offend, and I'm sorry if I have offended anyone. I've added a few more lines to the warnings in chapter 1 in case the subtext of this story wasn't clear enough.)

More on Anders now, I didn't originally plan on him being such a big character but I need him for the storyline so here he is. You also get Victor in full alpha mode, hope (some of) you enjoy it!

~ Nyx ~

CHAPTER 10

Sofie would have been hugging her boots, if only she wasn't so busy clinging to a tree just then.

Back in a small town they had passed, on a dusty road that served as the high street, Victor had dragged her into a shoe shop and demanded that she find a new pair. It turned out that Blaine – knowing exactly what these boots meant to her and being the utterly heartless bag of shit that he was – had hidden the tracking chip in the heel of her right boot. Not surprisingly, Victor wanted them gone.

Her boots were worn in and tired from long years of use, but they were lovingly mended and still perfectly comfortable and serviceable. A gift from Pa for her sweet sixteenth when most of her friends were being adorned with pearls and prom dresses, she had gone hiking with her Pa in the mountains rushing with the first meltwater before most people started climbing in the spring. It had become their thing, their yearly adventure, and to maintain the ruse of a happy marriage Blaine had allowed it to continue even after he had married her and tied the noose around her neck. For Sofie it was her fondest recent memories of her late Pa and these boots occupied an irreplaceable corner of her heart.

Victor was furious. Absolutely livid. She knew it wasn't from any kindness on his part that made him carve out the tracking chip with his claws and hurl the boot at the terrified shopkeeper; most likely he himself wanted to be the cause of her tears rather than a freaking pair of walking boots. A world-record-speed repair later, the boots were safely back on her feet and she was practically tossed back on his back, and they resumed their way.

After supposedly forcing him to relent on his point, maybe he believed this to be her comeuppance. Now further down the mountain, in view of a winding road meandering at its base sandwiched between gullies and rising cliff faces, he had abandoned her thirty feet up a tree.

It was amazing how the world changed when you stopped still and were robbed of any distractions. She clung to the tree, ignoring the scraping of the rough bark, pouring all her energy into not falling off the branch barely thicker than the length of her boots.

She gradually registered the whisper of leaves as the breeze flittered through them, and the faint creek of trees swaying together in the forest, their barks expanding with the water molecules within as the frozen temperatures eased into spring. Hidden amongst those gentle sounds was the faint trickling of water, a soft chorus of all the small streams and brooks scattered between the gullies rising about her.

Movement caught her eye. Squinting down through the neighboring trees, she saw a black stretch limo pull up in a patch of gravel curving along a bend in the road. Two men emerged, the driver – with an actual chauffeur's cap, Sofie almost giggled to see – and a suited passenger. They glanced around, searching the tree line around them, before they seemed to relax somewhat.

She continued to watch as they wondered around the limo, presumably stretching their legs, exchanging a few words. They kept looking around as though waiting for someone.

She didn't even hear a rustle. The large paw suddenly grabbing her neck made her jump and she lost her balance, Victor's tight grip cutting off her startled scream. She floundered, her arms wheeling for a moment before she clutched the only thing within reach to steady her – the hand around her neck. Victor prevented her from falling to her death, but he also kept her just a little off balance, teetering over the lethal drop off the branch.

How in the world he managed to fit on the branch behind her she hadn't a clue, but his body pressed into her back, mutton chops scratching her neck.

"What's the first rule, frail?" he breathed in her ear.

The hand loosened just enough to let her answer.

She didn't hesitate. "I do as you say."

Why was he reminding her of it now? Was this about the boots? She'd explained that!

"Good," he purred.

It only partly allayed her fears. He was still keeping her at risk of falling and talking to her about rules. Not good! her brain argued.

"Here's rule number two," Victor growled. "Never betray me."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't dare!" she husked, completely honest.

His grip tightened on her neck regardless. "You sell me out, or hold back something I should know, or try and stab me in the back – you betray me in any way, frail, and I'll make you fucking wish I'd dropped you right here. I'll make you suffer in ways you've never dreamed possible, you'll be begging me to kill you. You hear me?"

"I hear you. I'll won't betray you!"

She could hear him still growling faintly deep in his chest. He didn't move, still breathing hotly in her ear as if trying to believe her.

"You know I'm telling the truth," she insisted, desperation colouring her words. "I mean it. I won't, Victor. You know I won't!"

His grip tightened another notch, as though already angry at some imagined infraction, before he grunted and pulled her back onto the branch and released her. Gasping, she scooted her back against the thick bark. He smirked at her before crouching down, perfectly balanced on the branch that looked no thicker than a tight rope against his bulk, and eyed the two men by the limo.

Their conversation was still too quiet for Sofie to pick up but Victor listened intently. She ignored him, too relieved at the feel of the solid tree beneath her hands to care.

But she cared an awful lot more minutes later when he turned and reached for her. She hugged the tree harder, eyes wide in alarm.

"Time to go, frail."

She glanced between him and the long drop. "We're going down?"

A muscle tweaked along Victor's jaw. "Yes. Now, c'mere."

She couldn't resist eyeing the ground again. It was way too far. "You're not going to drop me, ar–"

With a huff that signalled the end of his patience, he leaped for her. Her startled squeak was muffled against a solid shoulder as his arm wrapped around her waist, snatching her up as he sailed by through the air. Their arching descent took them into the path of another tree, and he grabbed for it with his free hand before kicking off its thick, knotted bark towards another. He continued in this way, bouncing from tree to tree, descending in staggered increments until he finally landed on two feet on the ground. He set her down and loped off in the direction of the parked limo without waiting for her.

Sofie's heart took much longer than the rest of her body to climb its way back into her chest. She indulged herself for a moment, simply relishing the feeling of solid ground beneath her boots.

"Asshole," she grumbled under her breath as she picked herself up and went after the mutant.

"You deaf? Or just plain stupid?"

"I had to ask, Creed. Client's orders."

"That's no reason to have the same fucking conversation again."

"On the contrary, this is an entirely different case now. You conveniently forgot to mention last night that it was Castro's wife."

Ah, were they talking about her? Sofie stepped out of the tree line to the crunch of gravel and watched them arguing from several feet away. They held an awkward position – the driver, who Sofie could now see wore a full gray chauffeur's uniform to go with his cap, was poised as though to open the back limo door for Victor, but the guy in the suit, who she recognised as Anders from his voice, had reached out to keep the door closed.

Anders might as well have been in black tie. The suit fitted him so well it was obviously tailor-made, the premium material of the white shirt and black suit somehow whiter than white and blacker than black, the lines and edges of the whole ensemble so crisp and sharp that it could have given her a paper cut. He even had one of those pristinely folded pocket handkerchiefs, and his black shoes gleamed in the overcast light. The whole effect was very Terry Benedict, complete with a face that was as impersonal as it was striking, framed by a neat head of short black hair. He was almost as tall as Victor.

"Did you get it or not?" the large mutant demanded.

"I did, although I must stress that my client was most reluctant to allow the arrangement when he learned who it was. He wishes to avoid any entanglements with any of Kelly's compatriots." Cold eyes glanced dismissively in her direction. She couldn't see his pupils, they were lost amidst unnaturally black irises.

"She fucking hates Castro's guts, she ain't no part of that."

Anders' brows drew together. "He's spreading rumours, that she didn't leave by choice –"

"She did," Victor interrupted before Sofie could explode at that.

"My client cannot be involved if you have abducted –"

"Fuck's sake," Victor swore, and glared at Sofie. "Tell him."

Eggshells. She was definitely walking on eggshells. She knew that dropping Victor in it wasn't an option, but neither did she want to lie.

But she could safely avoid both. Leaving out anything to do with why she continued hanging out in the company of the mutant, it was with complete truthfulness that she was able to tell Anders, "Victor didn't abduct me from Blaine." Her face darkened. "I left my husband of my own free will, like I'd been trying for the last eleven years."

Anders seemed somewhat taken aback by the distaste and seething resentment dripping from the biting emphasis.

"Like I said," Victor smirked. "I'd've killed her myself if she was helping that pisshead in any way. She's not, and it makes fuck all difference if she comes or not."

"But the connection is still there," Anders argued, glancing hesitantly at her. Sofie couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want to offend her or if he was checking her reaction to Victor's harsh statement.

"My client wishes to avoid any difficult repercussions and she is a Castro," Anders continued. "Is there no way that we could persuade you –"

"She's just a fuck toy and she comes with. Or are you secretly hoping I'll plough your ass instead?"

Fuck toy? Ah yes, how could she have forgotten? That's right, he was going to make her beg. She found herself shivering from something that felt suspiciously like anticipation...

She hastily aborted the disturbing direction of her thoughts by throwing herself forward and thrusting out a hand.

"Mr. Anders, we were never properly introduced. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Sofie, Mr. Creed's architect."

Her abrupt interruption also served to distract Anders from his efforts in not backing away from the huge mutant at the shocking suggestion, even though he knew Victor was only deliberately trying to rattle him. Dark eyebrows rose above a straight thin nose and he visibly braced himself before shaking her hand, clearly reluctant to make the gesture. Sofie tried not to take it personally.

"Architect?" he repeated skeptically, snatching his hand free. His dark eyes traced the lines on her cheek and trailed down the marks on her neck.

Sofie glanced at Victor, since he had actually neither accepted nor rejected the idea of her employment when she'd broached it, but he merely glanced about indifferently, only impatient to be going.

"And cook, I suppose. PA. General scratching post," she added, taking amusement at Anders' barely concealed startled reaction at her flippancy. It was better than the alternative, to be terrified out of her wits. She was that, too, but this was an easier way to cope.

"Give it here already," Victor demanded, holding a hand out expectantly.

Pursing his lips in disapproval but without further protest, Anders reached over his own shoulder to accept the small envelope offered by the driver from behind and handed it over. Victor sliced it open with a claw and shook the contents out into his hand.

Not contents. Content. Just one. A passport.

Victor flicked it open, glanced at the picture, then at Sofie. And she realised it was a passport for her.

On balance, her reaction was remarkably mundane. A new passport might have been a way to freedom, the potential key to flying away from Blaine – he had a long reach but it wasn't outside the realms of possibility for her to hide in some remote corner of the world. Victor, on the other hand... Nope, not happening. A passport was even more useless than those three bullets had been.

"Total secrecy?" Victor was asking when she tuned back into their conversation. The new passport disappeared into his inside coat pocket.

"Of course," Anders replied somewhat prickly.

"How d'you manage that?"

"Trade secrets, Creed," Anders evaded.

Victor shrugged, unconcerned.

Anders' posture suddenly became noticeably more nervous, jittery and uncomfortable. Even Sofie noticed. Victor eyed him like a hawk.

"Uh, there's just one other issue before we go," the man said, shifting on his feet.

"Spit it out, Anders," Victor rumbled.

"Well, you see, it's a matter of insurance."

"Insurance?"

"Yes. When my client learned of your lady friend's name," – Sofie almost snorted at the description – "this venture became greatly more risky. It could cause a great deal of grief for my client if it ever became known that Castro's wife was connected in this, so if in the event that I was unable to persuade you to leave her behind, my client instructed me on a contingency plan."

Anders paused again, only fuelling Victor's irritation further.

"There's been a change in the payment method for this venture."

The temperature dropped. Chills genuinely ran down Sofie's spine. Thunder clouds practically gathered over Victor's head.

"My client will pay half of the fee upfront, then the rest on completion of the job so long as the identity of your companion is kept under wraps and there is no backlash from Castro or Kelly or any of their ilk."

Victor was every kind of pissed off. His chin tucked in, his jaw twitched, his impressive muscles bulged, making him appear even larger.

"Here's my card, you can contact me on this number day or night," Anders said, proffering a crisp business card. "I can assure you that the balance of your fee will be transferred as soon as the job is complete, so long as discretion is assur –"

He broke off choking. Victor grabbed the poor man by the throat and left his feet dangling.

"We had an agreement, Anders," Victor growled softly up at the dawning horror on the man's face.

"We... will... pay...!"

Victor's hand tightened, but before he could crush the life out of the man, he paused at a gentle touch on his strangling arm.

"He said he'll pay," Sofie tried.

"Stay outa this, frail."

There was nothing but more choking sounds from the Brit. The driver dithered, unable to decide whether to attempt a rescue.

Sofie worriedly eyed the red face darkening to purple.

"He'd never get away with trying to cheat you though, would he?" she reasoned, trying her best to sound calm and not as panicked as she was actually feeling. "If he really doesn't cough up, think of all the fun you'll have hunting him down, you know, for shits and giggles."

Sofie considered it a small victory when the huge mutant mulled it over. She was even more triumphant when he capitulated with an irritated growl. He dropped the gasping man, stepped over him, and strode to the limo. The driver rushed to open and close the door for him as the irate mutant folded himself in, then hurried around to get into the driver's seat. If she wasn't so busy being concerned for the gasping man, she would have thought Victor was actually sulking.

Sofie crouched beside Anders, supporting his shoulders and helping him to sit up. It took a good few seconds for him to regain his breath.

"Christ," he croaked, his tendency to formality temporarily relaxed.

She did feel sorry for the guy but couldn't help but think that he'd partly brought this on himself. "You did hire him."

"Yeah," he grimaced.

Perhaps it was a bit cruel to remind him of that just now. "Are you all right?" she asked in a kinder tone.

Anders shifted, tried turning his head and gingerly rubbed his neck. "I think so." With an uncomfortable grunt he shifted his legs and made to stand up, still noticeably unsteady. Sofie instinctively reached for his hand to help.

As soon as she touched his hand, the reaction was immediate. Anders gave a soft gasp, his legs giving way again as his head fell back, mouth wide open, and his eyes turned entirely black – sable where the whites of his eyes should have been, his whole eyes swallowed up in the sea of obsidian.

"Anders? Anders!"

His eyelids fluttered, blinking without seeing, his mouth still gaping wide. Sofie was about to shout for Victor when Anders' loose hand gripped hers firmly, turning her back to him.

"Don't bother the others," he murmured, "I'm fine."

"But... Are you sure?"

The inhuman wash of ebony had receded, leaving his eyes human again with just his irises unnaturally black as before.

"Sorry, I just wasn't prepared."

"Prepared?"

He still had a hold of her hand, her left one this time, and he looked at it now – the tan line had faded over the winter, but the flesh of the third finger was still indented at the base where she'd been forced to wear her wedding ring. It was the first thing she'd got rid of when she'd escaped, donated to a cancer research collection box with a note suggesting them to pawn it.

His eyes then trailed up for the second time to the claw marks at her neck, before they held her gaze with something that might have been an apology or pity, she couldn't tell which.

Something had happened. His cold dislike of her had thawed, replacing it with the weight of understanding. Too much understanding...

It was her turn to snatch her hand back, suddenly wary, as she remembered how he had carefully braced himself to shake her hand earlier.

"You know, don't you? Are you a psychic or something?"

"Please, you've got to keep this to yourself."

He seemed more anxious than threatening, but she drew back, her years with Blaine making her highly suspicious of secrets. Her distrust must have shown on her face.

"It's no secret that I have a mutation, but there's no end to the people who'd target me if the exact nature of my abilities became widely known..."

"So you're a clairvoyant?"

"Not quite... I see the past. A person's past, when I'm near to them. I can usually control it, how much or how far back I see, or if I see anything at all, but with the unexpected contact... Forgive me, I saw everything."

She sat back on her heels. "Everything? Like, what I've seen? And heard? And done? How I've felt? My thoughts?"

Anders kept nodding.

"Well, fuck me sideways. So you know all about Blaine?"

Nod.

"Pa?"

Nod.

How far back can she go? "My crush on Timothy Allen when I was seven?"

Nod.

And last, but by no means least, although Sofie couldn't figure out why it would bother her so much that Anders, or anyone else for that matter, should know about what had occurred between the two of them – "Victor?"

Again a nod. Her lips twisted. She felt violated in a way she couldn't describe, her entire past known to a perfect stranger. It seemed there was only one option.

"Does Victor know what you can do?"

She was getting tired of these wordless nods.

"Well then. I don't want anyone knowing about me either. If Victor asks, you can tell him, he'll find out if he really wants to anyway. But otherwise, I'll keep shtum if you do."

"Deal," Anders agreed. He climbed to his feet, plucking up his business card that had fluttered forgotten to the ground as he did so. She followed suit, and only then as she found herself craning her head to look up at him did she remember that he was almost as tall as Victor.

Anders studied her for a moment before he said, "My name is Whisper."

What a bizarre name. "Whisper Anders?"

A ghost of a smile curved his thin lips. "Just Whisper. My chosen name."

Ah. "Is that 'cos the past speaks to you?"

He could have lied and just agreed. It was to his credit that he didn't. He was subdued. "That too, but it's mainly for my twin brother. He was lost before I was born, but it feels like he's still with me, watching over me and speaking to me."

Ironically, she felt as though she had just smashed open his box called Privacy and had a good old rummage. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intru–"

"It's quite all right," he reassured kindly. "I know significantly more of you than you do of me, it seems only right to redress the balance somewhat."

He was back to his formal tone, she noticed. He must be feeling better.

He glanced towards the limo, clearly concerned about the other mutant's short fuse, but he turned somber eyes towards Sofie once more.

"You saved my life. I am in your debt."

She shook her head. "Pish, you don't owe me anything."

"Allow me to insist otherwise." He pressed the business card into her hand. His simple words were delivered with a heavy tone, carrying more concern and meaning than he could safely voice. "Call me, if you need to."

The side she was looking at contained a single telephone number. She turned it over. Bold black letters leaped out at her, solidly embedded into the thick card. Amazing how such a simple thing could scream of money and under-table handshakes where the real deals were made.

ANDERS & GABRIEL

Michael G. Anders
Attorney at Law

She knew a golden opportunity when she saw one. Giving him a nod, she slipped the card into her pocket.

Victor brought her to a dead standstill with just the heat of his body at her back alone. The private airfield stretched out before her like a mockery of freedom, in sight but out of reach, and Anders hovered in obvious alarm at the edge of her perception.

This was the culmination of the previous three hundred terror-inducing seconds of his glowering at her all through the limo ride as though he wanted nothing better than to tear her limb from limb. It was impossible to think properly whether he was more angry at her meddling in his affairs or because she'd been right. Sofie was too preoccupied stressing over whether her intervening on Anders' behalf might be considered a betrayal, only minutes after his laying down that very rule.

The hairs on the back of her neck shivered on end at his proximity. She could feel his dark eyes boring through her skull, silently daring her to try anything. She didn't. She stood stock still, understanding at a primal level that this was not the time to fight, putting up no resistance – even when he grabbed a fistful of hair, forcibly tilted her head right back, and closed his fangs over her exposed throat.

Tunnel vision. Two sharp fangs, two rows of teeth, biting into the skin and muscles and tendons at her neck, just perilously, infinitesimally short of breaking skin. Blood gushing through the jugulars, double thumping to the runaway beat of her heart. So acutely aware of his ability to literally rip her life away, with frightening ease.

She was reduced to simple terror, a desperate submission to appease this powerful mutant who held her life in the... snap of his jaw. Obey... Never betray... Obey... Never betray... The rules repeated over and over in her head like the only mantra that could save her and embedded themselves deeper with every repetition as she submitted body and soul.

She had no idea how long they stood like that before he eventually released her, a long rumbling sigh of fading tension fluttering her hair. He rested his chin on the crown of her head and draped a weighty arm over her shoulder, his hand dangling loose in front of her.

Almost worse than the terror itself was the rush of its passing. Sofie started shaking, trembling and fragile like a broken shard of glass in the face of a raging storm.

Victor waited, unusually patient as she gradually brought herself under control, as she began to register the airfield again, sunlit past the shadow of the massive hangar acting as a private airport, and Anders ashen faced, the eight security men who had rushed over now circled around them, likewise frozen, all rooted to the spot half a dozen feet away by the feral mutant's unmistakably territorial stance over her.

Victor gave her time until the slight movement of her head looking around told him that he hadn't scared her totally out of her mind. He growled softly above her, quiet enough that the others wouldn't overhear.

"If you ever interfere in my business again..."

Sofie waited for the threat, whatever colourful way he'd cooked up to make her suffer this time...

"You'd best be goddamned sure it's to my benefit."

"... O... kay..." she said uncertainly, not having expected anything but a dire warning.

"How 'bouts we make that rule number three."

Somehow, from his uncommon patience and the way he was nuzzling her hair, despite the diabolical test of submission – or perhaps he was calmer because of it – she understood that at that particular moment he was being far more indulgent than usual. Emotions still running high, she elbowed her way out from under his chin and arched a brow, letting her irritation show, something she'd never have dared otherwise when talking about rules.

"How abouts? Are you just making these up as you go along, Victor?"

"'Course I am. Why would I bother with something I don't need?"

She blinked, totally lost. "What?"

He rolled his eyes as though she was that stupid. "Ain't never kept a frail before."

She could only stare after him in stunned silence as he sauntered off without a care in the world towards the jet taxiing into the hangar.

A/N: Breathe, Sofie! :) She still lives, and now she has a friend. And speaking of Anders, it was so hard trying to find him his mutant name! Everything I thought of was super lame or already taken... I'm still on the fence with Whisper but hopefully it isn't an existing character at least...

So we're finally about to get to the plane that I mentioned a couple of chapters back. Hmmm, what mischief can they get up to 40,000 ft in the air? *rubs hands in glee*

Also, I gotta ask, do you only like lemons or do you read the other parts too?