So it's not Wednesday but what can I say, travelling is tiring stuff. Also, I have WiFi now so gotta catch up on all the Kpop comebacks I've missed (omg so many). You're all fandom people, you must feel me.

Anyhow: disclaimer - I do not own VA.

Have fun! xx

Chapter Twenty One

I continued around the building, pausing to take my shoes off at one point and reviling in the feel of the cool grass slipping between my toes and brushing across my ankles. I turned the last corner and began skirting the wall that ran behind the source of the booming bass and hazy stench of alcohol and something a little smokier and a little less legal now. As I considered turning back and going around the way I'd come in order to avoid the alley that cut through the wall right next to the party – and the cocktail of Moroi smells emanating from it – a cluster of shadows vomited from the alley's opening and I didn't pause to see who it was, I just pivoted and began walking around the other way. Decision made.

But one of them must have had keen enough eyesight to see me through the groggy blur of whatever they were under the influence of because I'd only taken three steps when they started calling out to me.

"Hey. Hey!"

"Hey, girl, don't leave!"

"You from the party? Why you walkin' so fast…"

"Come back and have some fun, baby girl!"

I sighed and hoped they'd forget it once I'd rounded the corner – out of sight, out of mind – but even as I was darting into the shadows behind the wall I could hear them speeding to catch up to me, still catcalling and making drunken comments and overly excited noises. Just as I felt a finger on my arm I spun and smacked the guy across the face in a stunning backhand that actually hurt my knuckles. The others reeled back and started making hooting noises, like seals on heat, and one guy actually fell over laughing so hard. Two guys stumbled forward to help their buddy up off where he was gripping the wall, dazed, and I began to turn but was confronted again with a hand on my arm. Only, this time, the hand was firm and when I prepared to strike again it pulled me close and grabbed my other arm. I tugged, growling insults, but apparently even drunk boys can use their muscles sometimes because I was soon trapped in the middle of their little gang, their tallest and broadest holding me to him while the others advanced. My heart picked up the pace but I forced my mind to be calm, reminding myself that I'd gotten out of worse situations when I'd only had human strength and now I had just under a year of training behind me.

But it seemed that my powers were failing me tonight and each tug and pull and jerk of my body only seemed to make things more entertaining for the group of drunken accosters. The boy holding me had both my arms firmly pinned from behind and while the guy I'd slapped was recovering with his two mates off to the side, there were four more guys in front of me, all taller and more muscular than me. I must have found the only group of Moroi who actually worked out because all the others I'd seen had been skinny, weak and proud of it. Trust my luck.

"Hey, now that waz'n ver' nice. My friend was just tryin' say hello, y'know?" slurred the guy holding me as he stumbled a bit, dragging me to the side with him. His breath was hot and putrid in my ear as he laughed. His friends thought that he was hilarious also.

"Let me go now and we can all walk away happy, big guy," I snarled, trying to jab him in the rib with my pinned elbow and failing.

His friends also thought that I was a true comedian. The one who'd fallen over laughing before came closer and inspected my face, putting a hand on my neck. I froze, my face tingling as the blood left it. "You're funny, girl. And pretty too…"

He leaned in to me suddenly and his hair brushed my chin as he put his lips by his fingers, dragging his nose across my skin. He let out a primal moaning sound that made me want to throw up and scratch his face at the same time. "Fuck, and you smell good too…"

I was abruptly jerked back by the guy holding and the other guy let go of my neck. "I caught her, Mikey, I'm first," he grumbled in warning.

Suddenly my back was against the cold hard concrete and Big and Broad's hands were on my wrists, his body pressed so hard against mine it was a struggle to breath. My fingers were already tingling from his death grip and I felt the stab of panic hit me. The cloud of alcohol was suddenly cloying in my mouth and I gave in to the instinct to flounder aimlessly, adopting Mac's Hit First, Aim Later approach to fighting. But my struggling only seemed to please the asshole holding me and he started grinding against me. Then his mouth was at my neck, his tongue wet and hot and I think I screamed but the panic had taken over now and I couldn't hear a thing. Over the panicked buzzing in my skin I felt the slice of his fangs for a brief moment and–

Then he was off me and flying across the grass instead, tumbling head over heels backwards until he landed in a crumpled mess a few yards away. I started to fall when my legs were the only things left holding me up but managed to catch myself halfway down the wall and forced myself to stand as straight as possible. My head swung violently, caught in the throes of even that small sample of Moroi endorphins. I blinked rapidly, clearing the terrified tears from my eyes to see what the hell had happened and my eyes immediately snagged on a new addition to the Moroi men surrounding me. This one was skinnier than the others and looked only marginally more put together but the main difference between this one and the others was that he was standing with his back to me, only a foot away, his stance easy yet I noted the broad placing of his feet. Defensive. Protective.

"Sorry boys, I'm afraid the fun's over. This one's out of bounds, Queen's orders."

Wait.

Adrian Ivashkov?

The drunkards either didn't take the Queen's orders thing seriously or didn't care because the air suddenly changed from alcohol-fueled sexual tension to plain old testosterone-fueled violence. The one called Mikey stalked closer to Adrian, though I noticed he kept a safe enough distance. "Fucking Ivashkov," he snarled, baring his fangs. "Come to join us have you?"

"Sorry, Mikey, I've gone straight. Or straighter." He didn't sound sorry.

"So I've heard…" Mikey trained his gaze on me and ran his tongue over his fangs, his sick grin flashing in the moonlight. "Such restraint you have, Ivashkov. I don't know how you do it, with the bitch right behind you." With that he took another small, snake-like step forward, pausing just out of arm's length of Adrian. "She's the one they're all talking about, isn't she? The werewolf girl. I can smell it on her blood… I've smelt it before, y'know, and I've always wanted to try it…"

His predatory stare hadn't left me and he must've forgotten himself in his lust for my blood because he wondered into Adrian's range. Adrian took a small step to meet him and shoved him by his shoulders. Both boys hackles rose substantially and Mikey finally looked away from me to Adrian. He laughed harshly and spat on the ground at the other Moroi's feet. "Think you're better than us now, hmm? Just because your little whore's friend forced her pretty ass on the throne doesn't change what you've done—"

I don't know exactly what happened then. I thought the Moroi endorphins must've been playing with my vision because one minute Mikey was standing just out of arms reach of Adrian and the next he was hanging upside down three feet above our heads. The group of Moroi stumbled hastily backward, three of them – including the one I'd hit – immediately deciding that they should probably go sleep off whatever was in their systems right now. Big and Broad was still on the ground a few yards from us, not moving. The three boys left around us stared dumbfounded up at Mikey as he wailed helplessly, his face quickly going an alarming shade of beetroot. A deep, rhythmic pounding resounded in my ears as I watched him flounder in the air.

"Let me go! Fucking freak, let me go!"

"You're new to this whole negotiation thing, aren't you?" Adrian drawled, his voice smooth yet low. "Calling me names isn't going to get you very far."

Mikey continued shouting profanities and insults and soon his friends joined in, yelling orders at Adrian without actually making a move against him. Adrian just laughed and Mikey began rotating in the air, swinging like a broken horse on a merry-go-round. Soon enough, Mikey was yelling at his friends to "fucking do something" but when the boys finally decided to rush Adrian they were thrown back like some invisible giant hand brushing dust from a table top. All by a small flick of Adrian's wrist. I no longer believed that it was the Moroi endorphins making me see things. Maybe Adrian's element was air, but no breeze disturbed us. Whatever he was doing it was saving my ass so I wasn't thinking too hard about it. In fact, it was becoming increasingly hard to think about anything over the insistent pounding in my head.

One boy didn't get up and the other two couldn't get away fast enough, leaving Mikey and their other two friends behind without so much as a parting glance. This is when Mikey stopped yelling and started crying. "P-please," he begged, his voice hoarse. "Please, stop!"

The swinging slowed, but didn't stop. "What was that?" There was a menacing jest in Adrian's voice that surprised me. "You'll have to say it louder; us freaks are a little hard of hearing."

"Fuck sakes, Adrian. Please put me down!"

"On your knees, Mikey."

The boy frowned, his face looking disfigured and not at all attractive under all the fear and sweat and desperation. "What?"

"Beg me on your knees," Adrian snarled, a smile lacing his words.

"But I—" Mikey swung violently to the right, his neck snapping to the side. "Okay! Okay!" His face scrunched up as he tried to fold his knees upward. After a few weak attempts that left him panting and red enough to be on the verge of purple, all he'd managed was a forty five degree bend of the torso and he slumped back down with a cry of frustration.

"Pathetic piece of shit," Adrian muttered and Mikey was thrown viciously to the grass, landing hard on his shoulder. I heard a sharp crack and he screamed. I felt a laugh bubble up in my chest. The thumping in my head was loud enough to drown out most of it now. Adrian shook his head at the boy and knelt beside him, ignoring his pained and frightened whimpers. He said something to him, something that looked both lighthearted and threatening at the same time, then gave Mikey's shoulder a hard pat and rose.

I couldn't hear the yelp of pain I knew must've come out of Mikey then, nor could I hear Adrian as he crossed to me and tried to help me to my feet. When had I slid to the ground? My vision was clouded, my gaze flicking dismissively over the blur of colour around me. When Adrian touched my arm a growl ripped from my chest and he hastily retreated. I thought I saw him swear as he fumbled for his phone. My gaze fixed itself finally on Mikey as he gripped his injured shoulder, his heartbeat thundering in my ears. I felt a sting: thick soil burrowing under my fingernails as I sunk my fingers into the grass. Then I felt the real pain, simmering in my gut before it rushed out in tendrils through my veins and laid itself bare to the moon through the tears on my cheeks.