Author Notes:
I wasn't 100% happy with this chapter, it usually takes me longer to upload when I'm unhappy with it too. But I don't think I can improve it.
I also have more of this posted on AO3.
Willow awoke to a dark, writhing mass darting around the room. Letting out the beginning of a scream she stopped, putting a hand over her throat. (Fuck it hurt!) She could only watch in horror as the mass approached her. It stopped at the side of the bed, large, pointed jaws gaping open, an uneasy aura emanating off of it. She sat up, the sheet falling and completely exposing her chest. The frightened woman quickly grabbed the cover and held it back up as the creature stared. She wanted to scream at it, tell it to fuck off. It let out a wispy snarl and extended its arms. What the fu-oh. It was... clothes. She slowly reached out and took them from the creature, furrowing her brow. She really didn't like the way it was just watching her. What did it want? After a good while of staring, Willow gave up and turned her attention to the clothes it had offered her. They were surprisingly modest, something she would happily wear after having nothing on but strips of clothing like the night before. It didn't take long for her to put them on, the insulation from her chilled surroundings was more than welcome. She went to look herself over, to see what the fire-brick red shirt and charcoal bottoms looked like on her person. But... there were no mirrors. With a sigh she glances over to the bathroom door. Fuck. What a mess yesterday was... The alcohol left a lingering dull headache, flashes of water and fear in her mind. The creature gave a soft growl, putting itself in-between herself and the door. Seemed this was one of Wilson's pets, a lap-dog (lap-snake?) of sorts. Speaking of which... where was the bastard?
...
Willow slowly made her way down the halls, beams of sunlight completely changing the feel of the location from the night before. The sun was safe, right? That creature from her room was darting from shadow to shadow. (It was almost cute.) Her biggest fear was rounding a corner, only to find Wilson standing there. Every time she held her breath, only to sigh when there was nothing there. Could she leave? There was nothing between her and the outside world. The front doors of the manor were even unlocked, allowing her to walk straight outside. For the first time in days she felt calm. The sun was bright, burning intensely; keeping the damned animals of the night away. After putting some distance between herself and the manor, the fire starter allowed herself to look at the building.
The stark structure seemed to absorb the colour around it. A bad omen if ever she frickin' saw one. She couldn't wait to leave this place far, far behind, once she figured out how to get over the immense walls surrounding the property that is. The stone walls towered overhead; the only exit, an iron gate that stood just as tall. She gave the gate a good jostling, of course it was locked. It would never be easy to leave a vampire den.
...
The small creature that had been following her stood in the shadow cast by the wall, hissing as she tried to open the gate. (Definitely one of Wilson's pets.) Sticking her tongue out at it, Willow decided she would scale the walls. It couldn't be that difficult, right? She tried to find foot-holes, wedging her fingers and toes into any crevice she could find; but no matter how hard she tried, she kept running out of spots to get leverage. Most of the wall was incredibly smooth, the gate itself composed of vertical bars with only a few foot-holds, all too far apart to actually climb.
She felt like a rat in a cage; taunted by freedom just outside of her reach, inevitable danger inside with her. She walked around the perimeter until the sun was high above, manor house far enough to not seem so daunting. It was just going to be like this everywhere, wasn't it? Even if she did find some sort of structural weakness, it would be way too close to night time. If she couldn't go over, around or through the wall, then her last option was under. Willow had seen multiple drains, which meant there was a sewage system, right? A sewer system meant an exit to some form of running water, running water that couldn't be separated from the outside. As much as the idea of leaving through a system filled with water made her want to be sick, if it was her only way out then she would have to take it.
xX~~~Xx
By the time Willow had found a drain she could squeeze into, it was dusk. There wasn't nearly enough time to sneak off without anyone knowing. She'd have to wait until tomorrow, but that meant another night in the manor. She wondered if the vampires were already awake or not... A shape caught the corner of her eye. Something large left one of the upper floors of the manor, shrieking as it flew overhead. She'd seen those before, they usually attacked villages. People called them a range of things; hell-spawn, ghouls, beasts, the turned, the corrupted. Whatever people called them, there was something grossly unsettling about them. Those creatures were what happened when humans ingested vampire blood; tales from her childhood told of a divine punishment for greedy people seeking the vampire's power. There was nothing divine about them.
The damned thing seemed to be getting closer, in fact it was. The fucking thing was coming down towards her! Panic filled her system as the monster extended its claws and dove out of the sky with a hearty shriek. Willow ran as fast as her legs would take her, the beast barely missing her as it barrelled past. Its wings beat heavily to keep it off the ground, turning to swoop at her once again. As it came down, she lept to the side, her face meeting the grass and dirt.
Something grabbed her by the leg, pulling her off the ground. The stench of rot and dust filled her nostrils as the sight of wiry fur on pale skin came into vision. Willow screamed, the pain in her throat bringing tears to her eyes. She swung her fist at it, a tough hand wrapping around her wrist and pulling her face to its own. Jagged teeth jutted out of its ugly bat-faced jaw, death on its breath. She could see more of them; surrounding her. This was it. This was how she died. Not even by a damned vampire. The pair suddenly lurched and Willow could feel the air being pushed past her, body being jostled like a rag-doll. The ground moved further and further away; she didn't know if she would rather be dropped or have her fucking face bitten off at this point. Where did they all come from? It was a damned swarm. The next thing registering in her brain was the sight of tile and masonry, then a rapidly approaching floor. Its landing was heavy and ungraceful, large clawed feet stumbling as they hit the ground. Suddenly the fire-starter was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground with a thud.
"Don't manhandle her like that, you idiot!" Winded, she looked over to see Wilson approaching. The vampire swung his hand at the hulking mass, causing it to shrink back with a shriek and head into the air. Willow had heard that those monsters could tear a human in half, so for them to be scared of vampires was really proof of how malicious vampires really were. Why didn't the monster kill her?! Now she was stuck with him! "I apologise for the ghoul's roughness. They're essentially animals." Wilson extended a hand to Willow, getting a scowl in response. Forcing herself to her feet, Willow winced. Breathing hurt, the screaming she had done felt like sandpaper in her throat. "The clothes Mr Skitz made for you look stunning." That was the name of Wilson's 'pet'? Mr Skitz? It kind of fit the semi-adorable creature. That didn't matter right now though; Willow just wanted to sleep. Mainly so that she wouldn't have to deal with Wilson and could escape the next day. The vamp didn't have to know that however. "He tells me you've been a busy thing, outside all day. I hope the fresh air was nice." Why didn't he stop talking?! She'd go find the bedroom herself and sleep.
xX~~~Xx
As soon as the sun started sinking below the horizon Wilson made his way to the corner of the estate where Maxwell told him Charlie had attacked. Oddly enough Wilson found a small puddle of silver in the grass by one of the walls. It seemed whatever she used had melted in the sun. The prince wrapped it up in a piece of cloth and brought it back to his study to look at later; his next priority was Willow.
When one of the ghouls came into the foyer with her and dropped the woman like a sack of potatoes, anger flared inside of him. They were stupid remnants of humanity, foot soldiers, hardly worth the effort to scold. Willow didn't seem injured thankfully. He tried to engage in conversation as she stood on her own accord, but she ignored him and pushed past. She seemed to be in pain... Most likely from the night before. "Would you like me to take a look at what's ailing you?" Again, silence. As much as the heir liked the maiden, he would still like to be listened to. Catching up to the mortal he took a hold of her hand, in response she pulled away roughly and spat at him. "Excuse you... That's unhygienic..." The fiery woman stuck up her middle finger in response. It seemed she was hurt . (S he would have verbally attacked him by now otherwise. ) Wilson knew she wouldn't listen to him without a fight however . Swiftly, he grabs her shoulders and wraps his wings around her writhing form . This seemed to be the easiest way to get her attention. There were pinches of pain as she grabbed fistfuls of his wing membranes in an attempt to break loose. "Stop that and listen to me for two minutes." Once her struggles ceased Wilson opened his wings again, revealing the adorable disgruntled expression within.
She tried to escape, or at least hurt the bastard. He didn't sound phased though. With a sigh, she turned to Wilson as he lowered his wings. "Are you ready to listen?"
"Fine." Her voice was hoarse and meek. Wilson supposed his hypothesis was correct. She was injured from the other night.
"I'm going to help with that throat of yours. Come to my study." The mortal shook her head at him with a scowl. "Please Miss Willow. Then you can go to wherever you were headed." Wilson could practically see the thoughts running through the woman's mind as she considered his offer. Letting out a defeated sigh she follows the vamp through the halls.
Wilson's 'study' was interesting to say the least, looking more like some crazy laboratory. There were all kinds of weird structures and contraptions holding pieces of glassware. Willow had no idea what any of them did, but that didn't stop her from wanting to touch them. The only deterrent was the vampire on the other side of the room, rummaging through a drawer. Maybe there was something she could use as a weapon in here…
...
Meanwhile, Wilson was looking for something to aid in her recovery; a tonic made from various herbs should have her feeling better in no time; if prepared in the correct way that is. The medicinal properties of plants were overlooked by many mortals, an art more should really be invested in. He could hear Willow looking through his study, bits and pieces being pushed aside. "Miss Willow, perhaps you would like to assist me rather than potentially breaking something." Shooting him a scowl she walks over, arms across her chest. "I need this Bunsen burner lit and you seem to be a fan of setting things alight, why not do it in a useful manner?" The heir swore he saw something flicker within Willow's eyes; causing the corners of his mouth to twitch upward. With new-found curiosity she steps up to the table, opening the palm of her hand for some kind of ignition source. In turn, Wilson places a metal tin in her hand; a roll of stone to act like a flint, a compartment for fuel and a lid to swiftly extinguish the flames. Hopefully that shouldn't cause too much damage. (Something in the back of his mind said otherwise.)
Watching as she eagerly lights the Bunsen, Wilson places water and ingredients needed into the glass above the flames. Soon enough the concoction is bubbling and the water changes from translucent to a pale yellow. Using a pair of tongs Wilson takes it off the heat and sets it aside to cool. Willow pulls a face as he cuts off the fuel supply to the Bunsen, killing the small flame. He only gives a smirk in response, making her frown further. "Could you pass me the object wrapped in the cloth on that table?"
Since when did she become his assistant? Walking over she unravels the object; within is a shiny lump, some kind of metal obviously. It looked like silver, what was silver doing wrapped up in a cloth? Taking it in her hands, she examines it further. It was incredibly shiny, maybe she could use this as a mirror? "Miss Willow. Over here please." With a heavy eye-roll she heads over to the vamp, holding the materiel out. "Just put it in that dish." A ceramic bowl lay in front of him, the metal landing within with a soft clink. The metal had warped in her hands, becoming lopsided. She could see Wilson's face overcome with curiosity as he hesitantly picked it up.
It didn't hurt, at least not at first. The longer he helped it, the more it stung. This metal was silver, or at least part silver, no doubt about that. But what gave it this flexible property? The irritation became painful, so he hands it back to Willow. "Do whatever you did to warp it again."
Again? Taking the metal in her hands again she frowns. What did she do to bend it? Why didn't he just do it? Trying to bend the materiel again causes it to break in half. Willow looks up at Wilson with wide eyes. Was he going to scold her? Maybe something worse? He just stares, a perplexed expression on his face. It was actually kind of nice to see him stunned, the cocky air he usually carried was absent. If it weren't for the whole prey thing, maybe she'd even find him attractive. Just as her thoughts begin to wander the weight in one of her hands shifts, something shiny falling to the ground. Startled, Willow takes a step back and looks at her hand. The metal had... melted? Yes, it had melted. In her hand. "Fascinating." Suddenly Wilson grabs her wrist and holds her hand to his face, eyes looking for something. (What he thought he'd find exactly was a mystery.) She can see him stick out his tongue a little, his eyes becoming more and more intense. He must be thinking, but what about? The metal obviously, but why was it a big deal? Willow realises how hard she's staring at him when his golden eyes look up and meet hers, the intensity unwavering. "Put that on the table and drink." Mind faltering for a moment she stares, kicking back into gear and getting a chuckle from the vamp. Putting the weird metal on the wooden surface, she picks up the liquid he brewed earlier. What the hell was this? For all she knew it was to drug her... Then again she had been out for hours after passing out... He didn't do anything? Right?
...
Wilson was incredibly impatient, he needed to get to the study and browse the volumes. Willow just frowned at the drink so he decided she needed encouragement. "It's willow bark extract. To help with the pain." Taking one of her hands in his own he guides the drink to his lips and takes a small sip before pushing it towards her own. "See? Safe." Her cheeks flush the smallest bit before she sighs heavily and downs the liquid. Now they could finally go to the study!
Still holding onto her hand, he takes them out of the room and down the halls. Before Willow can even guess where they were going, they had already arrived. It was the room from the other night, where she threw a log at him... Once in the room, he let her hand go and went straight for the bookshelf, skimming over the spines.
Books weren't really Willow's thing, but they burned well. She wasn't sure her captor would tolerate her burning his collection though. Crossing her arms over her chest she looks around the room. Something displayed inside a cabinet in the corner caught her eye. It was a blade of some sort, it looked broken. Glancing over her shoulder, it seemed Wilson was still preoccupied. With her heart pounding in her chest she takes the blade from its cradle. A weapon, something to defend herself. But what now?! Should she attack while his back was turned?!
"This is the one!" Startled by the vamp, Willow slips the blade into her garter, hoping it would stay concealed under her skirt. Without looking up from the pages, Wilson makes his way over to her "We need to match a mineral with a low melting point from this book." Willow gives a nod, doing her best to feign interest. He either didn't notice her insincerity or didn't care, instead he takes her hand and pulls her to sit in his lap within an armchair. She could feel every thump of her heart within her rib cage. She prayed that he didn't find the blade pressed against her thigh.
...
Wilson could feel her pulse quicken, so he takes one of Willow's pigtails within his hand and plays with it. "Look." He then brings the book up, pages splayed for her to see. "We can perform a few tests to ensure we find the correct material. Turning his attention to the mortal, he notices her expression seemingly more alarmed than usual. Perhaps the hand in her hair was unsettling her. Moving his hand however, prompted her to jump and grab his wrist, bringing it back to her hair. The heir was pleasantly surprised at this. Perhaps she was finally coming around, seeing he meant her no harm. "Maybe you would like to assist me?" She shook her head. "Why not?"
"Tired." Her voice was still weak, but not as hoarse as before. The elixir must have started to kick in, numbing the pain somewhat. Regardless, he needed to get the mortal to adapt to a nocturnal circadian rhythm.
"I would like you to stay up a little, so eventually we sleep at the same time." Willow cursed the vamp internally, of course he wouldn't let her have the day to herself. "Let's get you something to eat, perhaps that will raise your spirits."
xX~~~Xx
Wilson watched her like a hawk as she ate, frankly ruining her appetite. At least breathing didn't hurt anymore; whatever was in that drink actually helped. Her meal was some kind of stew, warm and pleasing in the cold weather. Tones of ginger and garlic were within the meaty broth; as to the meat, she prayed it was beef or pork. "What is this exactly?"
"I'm not entirely sure, our chef Warly made it, not me. I assume it's local game, most likely boar."
"Better be…"
"I know you're untrusting of me, but I would never do something underhanded like feed you something human without your knowledge. We only need blood. The flesh is what the ghouls would eat, so I would have to save some specially." Wilson couldn't help but smile at her expression; her shock was just so innocent and pure.
"I would never!" The mortal's voice cracked, pain flickering through her expression momentarily. With a chuckle, he leans on the table, resting his head in a splayed palm.
"Speaking of meals, I would like to discuss my own if that's alright with you." The prince's own hunger was beginning to tug at his thoughts. Thankfully he wasn't doing anything strenuous, so feeding was minimal; that being said, it had been a day since his last drink and a week since his last fresh meal. "I can allow you another day, but not longer than that. I need to sate my hunger miss Willow."
"Don't you have more 'wine' from the Gala?" A sneer accompanies her fingers as the emphases the word wine.
"Do you know how long blood keeps when kept cold Miss Willow?" Taking her silence as a no, he leans forward and places a soft kiss on her shoulder. "It only lasts for about a month, a week longer if it's stored correctly. The longer it is stored, the lower the quality. Most of our stock went into the Gala, the good stock anyway. What's left won't last long and Maxwell needs it presently."
"So you can? You just won't?"
"We don't need to feed every day to survive, but regular feedings keep us from tearing people apart. A starving vampire can drink upwards of three-thousand milliliters of blood, which is more than a fatal amount for you mortals. The more regular the feeds, the less that needs to be consumed. A single cup of fresh blood can last a week if not partaking in any activities. This can be replaced in about a week. Thus, a single vampire can live off of a single adult human for months if managed properly. Of course, this can cause iron deficiencies in th-"
"Shut up, I get it. You like your livestock fresh."
"It needs to be for the benefit of mankind. You're also not livestock. People aren't exactly eager to provide donations however, which made hunting a necessity."
"I'd rather donate than be stuck here."
"Donations don't get you free meals and housing."
"I didn't ask for those things."
"You seem to forget the laws of the land. If I hadn't picked you for myself then you may have been drained dry by now. Perhaps your village would have been attacked by a ravenous vampire or bandits. You're under my protection here."
"I never asked for your prote-" Her voice cuts off, a hand going to her throat and a pained expression on her face.
Fuck it hurt if she strained her voice… "I'll make you another elixir for later, a stronger one." She just wanted to leave... The body of the blade presses against her thigh, she could use it now. He was so close, leaning over her shoulder. Slip it out and try to stab him while he was distracted. She could get him closer still… a sure-fire shot.
"Sorry for shouting…"
"Think nothing of it miss Willow. I understand this situation is less than ideal, but I really want your stay to be as comfortable as possible"
"Why don't you just hypnotise me?" Wilson let out another chuckle, leaning back into his own chair.
"I told you, it's merely a myth. Much like the herb in that stew supposedly repelling us." It took a moment to click in Willow's mind but then she realised he was talking about garlic. That's right, wasn't it supposed to be poisonous or something?
"Prove it."
"Prove what?"
"Prove it's a myth. Go take a bite out of some garlic."
"You realise that I'm a haemovore, right? I can't digest anything that isn't blood."
"Maybe you're just a coward."
"Is that right?"
"Yup." Wilson gave a smirk, shaking his head. Perhaps he should entertain her, show her he was more than open to a good-natured bet.
"Alright, but only if I can steal a kiss~" She frowns at him, prompting another laugh. "Not even on the cheek?" With a heavy sigh she mutters something incoherent under her breath.
"Fine. But you go first!"
"Monsieur Warly! Bring me a clove of garlic!" There were a few moments of silence before (who Willow supposed this Warly character was) emerged from the kitchen. They seemed normal enough. No obviously vampiric traits. There wasn't much to give away anything about them, save for the darkened tones of their skin.
"Dare I ask what for?" Wilson sits up in his chair as Warly approaches, arm outstretched, ready for the herb.
"This young lady and I are making a trade." Warly places the cloves into Wilson's hand, cocking an eyebrow at such a weird trade request.
"Might I ask the terms?"
"I must disprove a myth and as such she will allow me a kiss."
"Mon dieu. I sorely hope you brush your teeth before you do so." Wilson lets out a laugh and gives the chef a feign frown.
"Warly, you know my personal hygiene is impeccable! I ought to flay you for such rudeness!"
"I beg your forgiveness master ." The pair of them chuckle. Did Willow miss something? What was so funny? Wilson must have noticed her face because he gives a small smile and gestures to the darker man.
"This is our chef. A very talented mortal, he provides meals for any other mortals in the manor and assists with the blood supplies." So, he was a prisoner too?
"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss. I assume this one will be staying for a while." Warly doesn't miss the thousand-yard stare in the heir's eyes, he liked this one.
"I hope so." Meanwhile Willow can only think all of the people that must have come before her. How many people did Warly see come and go? Why didn't he leave? Was he hypnotised? "Thank you for your service. You can head off of you like."
"Merci. I've left prepared meals in the icebox, hopefully they're too your liking. Wilson's shadow will get them at your request. I shall see you in a few days, hopefully we can get better acquainted madame. Au revoiur." It wasn't until Warly left the room that thoughts began to make sense again.
"Why does he get to go?!"
"We struck a deal a decade ago. He's honoured it and donates to our stocks, as well as assisting when needed."
"I want to make a deal then!" Willow's heart sinks as he shakes his head. "Why not?"
"Different circumstances."
"I want to be able to come and go!"
"Willow my dear, you're just going to go. Build a level of trust first, then I might be more open to a casual arrangement." He made it sound like this is was something she had a say in. He had made it more than clear that she did NOT have a say! She would be dead before she left the grounds. She needed to take her chances with the blade, wait for a sure-fire kill. Wilson interrupts the silence by speaking up again. "Anyhow. Our little bet." Using one of his nails he takes a notch out of one of the garlic cloves, laying it on his tongue. Willow just lets out a huff, resting her head in a splayed hand being propped up by her elbow.
"That doesn't prove shit." The heir rolls his eyes and leans over Willow's shoulder.
"What do you mean it doesn't prove anything? I've not keeled over, hence myth busted."
"You hardly ate anything."
"I can't digest it. If I eat a mouthful, I'll be sick. If I'm sick, I'll be hungrier later."
"If it makes you sick, then it is a poison!"
"Do you eat grass? Leaves? No? If you regurgitate because you ate a handful of grass, does that make it poison?" Taking her silence as an answer, Wilson tips her face around so his eyes peer into hers. "The myth is disproven. Don't get pouty just because it didn't kill me." Willow's eyes avoid his own sardonic ones. Bringing his chair to the side of hers and snapping his fingers, the form of Mr. Skitz darts into the room. "Prepare the guest bedroom please. Miss Willow would you prefer the fireplace to be on or out?"
"On…"
"You heard her. Dismissed." Using his nails, he combs through Willow's pigtails. "You finish your meal and then we shall go to the guest room to discuss my own. No ifs or buts." It wasn't hard to tell she was dreading this, the moment she'd been trying to avoid. But it was inevitable and he was determined to make it as painless as possible to gain her compliance.
All Willow could think about was how her blood would be spilled if she didn't spill his first.
So, she stalled.
Took her time to eat, her appetite was gone anyway.
Yet he sat, waiting, still combing his nails through her hair.
xX~~~Xx
As they walked back through the halls, the blade of the knife pressed against her thigh was screaming at Willow. The longer she waited to strike, the more likely it was for the weapon to be discovered. But… she just couldn't find the right opening. The dread of a missed opportunity hung over her, causing her to not realise Wilson was talking to her. "This is your room from here on. It's spacious and I can get you any commodities you might need. I'm afraid the bathroom is lacking. I didn't want another incident so I picked a room without a full en-suite." Even with the fire crackling behind a wrought guard, the room felt cold. "Take a seat please miss Willow." A splayed hand guides her to a seat and confirms her fears. It was too late. She missed her chance. "The veins I'll drink from are located on the insides of your limbs and the jugular veins. Jugular is much faster, if you want this over and done with quickly."
Wilson stands before her, waiting for a response. She seems distracted, very distracted. "Willow?" Her eyes finally dart up to meet his. "Are you listening now?"
"Yes, sorry." Her voice was beginning to sound meek again, had the pain medication worn off already?
"Where may I bite you Miss Willow?" Those amber eyes of hers move again, looking at nothing in particular. If she didn't decide he would have to for her. Moving closer the heir places a hand on her shoulder, pulling down the red collar of her shirt to expose her neck. "This will be the fastest way to feed. I promise it won't be as bad as you think." She gives a nod, refusing to bring her gaze back to his. Taking this as confirmation the vamp finally digs his fangs into her, he can feel her heart rate double as she winces, the blood pooling from the pricks and into his mouth. He must have underestimated how hungry he was because it caused something to buzz in the back of his skull and pound in his chest. No, it caused a stabbing pain in his chest. A burning pain. This wasn't right. Pulling away Wilson finds Willow's hands latched onto something, something gleaming. Her eyes are wide and full of fear. Then she pulls on the object, a silver blade emerging from what Wilson now realised was a wound. Did she... did she stab him?
...
Willow waited until she knew he wouldn't move, until she was sure she wouldn't miss. The blade slid from her garter and swung up as hard as her arms would let her. It seemed to take a second for the vampire to realise. There was disbelief in his eyes, confusion and betrayal. (Could a beast like that even really feel betrayed after all he would have done to others?) However, her strike didn't seem to be enough to kill him so she pulled it out and lunged again, this time his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist before it made contact. The other hand covered the wound on his chest, his claws visibly digging into the fabric of his shirt. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Pure fear pulsed through her system. His grip tightens as she pulls against him. "M-miss Willow. After everything. Are you really that afraid of me?"
...
Wilson couldn't believe it. No mortal had harmed him in decades, no, centuries. Had his hospitality not been comforting in the slightest? He saved her. He fed her. Clothed her. He could have torn her apart like the animal the humans thought they were. Was he really that intimidating? That untrustworthy? She brings a leg up and kicks him in the gut, making him stumble and drop her.
For a moment she felt like she could run, he dropped her and she still had the blade. Before she could leave the room, something grabs her waist. Instinctively, she swings the blade at it, but again her wrist is caught and her other arm seized. Shit. Shit. Shit. Willow could feel tears begin to well in her eyes. She failed; it didn't kill him. This was it. At least it would be over soon, but she wouldn't go down without leaving something to remember her by.
Wilson had used his wings to grab her waist and bring her back to him, his priority was to disarm her. As furious as he should have been, he just wasn't. People and animals lashed out when they were scared, they couldn't help it. The woman had moxie to say the least. Facing your fears was the best way to get over them, although he would prefer her to be unafraid of his presence while he was still alive. Now he wasn't sure if the buzzing in the back of his skull was from the loss of his blood or the taste of hers.
Perhaps a quick experiment was in order, before the blood dripping down her neck clotted. If she quit squirming that was... Willow tried her best to get out of his grip, but he was stronger. He dragged her back into the room, using his wings to hold her as he pulled a box out from under the bed. A medical kit, so he could dress her wounds once he was done. However, now he would be repurposing some of the equipment. A tourniquet would be used to keep those... busy hands of hers bound while he dressed his own wound.
...
Thoughts thunder through her mind as the beast stalls. His sharp fingers pry the blade from her hands and bound them behind her back. Why hadn't he already just killed her? Was he going to torture her? Scowling, the fire-starter finally gets away from his grip. He sits on the side of the bed and takes off his attire. As he finally gets to bare skin, she can see the damage before he wraps a bandage around it. A thick mahogany substance oozes from the knife-wound, like dull molten iron. "Next time you need to kill a vampire... aim to the left of their chest." His breathing sounded shallower, maybe she did more damage than she thought, maybe she still had a chance. "Have you got it all out... out of your system?" Definitely more damage than she originally thought. Swiftly she backs into the door and does her best to turn the knob, but the ropes around her wrists dig in painfully as she twists it. He's on her again in the blink of an eye, leaning over her, pupils constricted, thin slits of black in pools of medallion yellow. "Please… just sit." He leaves her room to pass. The moron left the knife on the bedside table! Making b-line for it, a weight shifts her trajectory and makes her face-plant into the bed instead. "How are you going to pick it up?" His weight holds her down, leaning over and hovering at her neck. "Think before you do." She can feel his body lined up with hers, the sinking of the mattress, her hands brushing the fabric of his bandage.
She pissed him off and was going to pay for it...
...
Her heart was still pounding in her chest. She was still squirming to escape him. She needed to stop doing that... this position wasn't the most savoury to be wiggling around in when his mind was leaning more towards impulsive action rather than thought. Holding her hips, Wilson runs his tongue over her neck once again. The mortal's blood was just as sweet the second time around, despite starting to clot. A whine escapes her, a desperate sound begging for mercy. Why couldn't the woman just understand that he just wanted to feed, that the whole process could have been quick and relatively painless. Her taste would be something to be celebrated and savoured after-all. A bottle of it would be nice, something to sip over a book or while researching. No, he couldn't get carried away. Just enough to survive, that's all he needed. One last mouthful, then he pulls away, tongue dancing over stained lips. The heir's mind already felt clearer... Perhaps it was merely hunger causing his ravenous thoughts. Although the taste of her blood was something he wishes he could indulge more on.
His teeth skim her neck, painfully threatening to cause more than just a puncture wound. Suddenly it stops, the pressure lifted. What was he doing now? Putting her in her place? Mind racked with vulnerable possibilities, she tries to stand, only to be pushed back down.
Now the inside and outside of her throat hurt... bite marks and drowning... What else was the bastard going to add to her list?
"J-just hurry up!" If he was going to violate her, (torture or otherwise) she just wanted it over and done with. Something is pressed against her neck, causing her to flinch. Then she feels a weight shift on the bed in front of her, causing the mattress to sink. Looking up she finds Wilson laying on the bed, her knife in his hands. He merely glances at her and gives a small smile.
"I told you. Immortal, not immoral." A high-pitched whistle escapes the vamp's lips and Mr Skitz appears beside his master. "Confiscate this please." The creature almost looks worried. "Now." Willow takes a few steps away from the bed, watching as the shadow creature leaves.
"W-what are you doing?"
"I don't know about you Miss Willow… but this debacle has made me rather exhausted. I might have a rest. It seems at this rate… I'll change to your body clock rather than you to mine." Was he fucking with her? All that and he's going to sleep?!
"U-untie me!"
"You get up to too much trouble when your hands are untied. You said you were tired anyway."
"I said untie me."
"In the morning, so you can use them during the day."
"No, you're going to take advantage of me!"
"I could have just then. Has it occurred to you, that I truly mean you no harm? That perhaps the dogma about us has clouded your mind? I mean, you believe the myths of garlic and hypnotism after all." He sorta had a point... Most of what she knew wasn't true... At least most of what she thought wasn't true about him from what she'd seen. That woman from before was a monster, she tore out a heart in front of her, but he'd been gentle and quiet. (If not a bit provocative). That didn't mean she trusted him though.
"L-leave me alone then."
"I meant what I said about being here. You're safe, you're fed, you're not forced to sleep with the mayor's son to be forgiven for a crime you didn't commit."
Wilson could see her freeze at those words. Various emotions flicking through her eyes.
"Please let me go. I'm moving to the city, away from the village."
"No." Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he heads to the door. "Rest. Your throat is still injured." Before Willow could rebut, the door closes behind him and locks with a soft click.
Keeping her here was the right thing. Not only that, it was the law. She was safer here. Once she settled in, she would enjoy it. Right?
