After a sip of lemonade, they returned to the car waiting for them outside. Again he wanted to take the driver's seat, but Knox directed him towards the backseat and climbed in with him. Vivian sat at the front, on the seat next to the driver's, but turned back in it so that she faced the men.

Uneasy, he waited what was to come now.

"I must say, I'm impressed", Knox said. "At first I thought you were going down, but then… an excellent performance. Congratulations."

Accepting this praise with a polite nod, he reached for the notepad lying next to him. There was a question on his mind, a question he wanted to know an answer to. If I had really gone down, he wrote, would you have helped me? Then he handed it to Knox. Maybe Knox would take it as an act of provocation. But he just wanted to know.

Knox read the sentence, then looked up at him and smiled, just like a kind elder brother would smiled at a little boy. "You should be informed that it is not my habit to pick fights", he answered smugly.

He nodded silently. Yes, he could have guessed. Good to know.

Even though she hadn't seen the question, Vivian could guess what this was about, for just when he least expected it she ran a hand through his hair comfortingly. "I would have got you out of eventual fixes", she said quietly. "Trust me. I don't take pleasure from watching lads being beaten up."

As if he were a kid! On the one hand, he liked Vivian to take care of him – although he didn't quite believe that she could protect him from drunkards wanting to beat him up. But on the other hand… He really wasn't that small anymore! They shouldn't believe he was weak.

He wanted to tell them so, wanted to let Vivian know that there was absolutely no reason to treat him as a boy… But he didn't want to affront them. So when he took the notepad from Knox again, he wrote: I don't want you to get hurt because of me.

Vivian read it, then blew him a kiss. "Cutie."

"Flirting, is he?" Knox snatched the notepad and read the sentence. "How cute indeed", he jeered. "How caring!"

He bit his lips and didn't say a word.

"Jealous", Vivian noted matter-of-factly.

Knox ignored her. "Why don't you talk?" he asked abruptly. "Here, go on. Write it down. A nice little psychological essay."

Having no alternative, he took up pen and notepad. How, how on earth should he explain? He wasn't even able to offer an acceptable explanation for himself, so how should he point out to Knox that he had a reason to remain silent.

I don't even have a reason, he thought bitterly. There's absolutely no reason. It's just… Well, I don't. I simply don't. Because… I can't.

Well, not quite. Technically, I can. But when it comes to it…

"Go on", said Knox. "I'm waiting."

Some quick thinking was needed, and fast. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he slowly started scribbling. I fear I cannot really explain, he began. I was very small when something happened that I don't like to remember.

Actually this was none of Knox's business.

But whatever that job was about, he had the feeling that he definitely wanted it.

On this day I barely escaped with my life, yet orphaned and with nowhere to go. Some time I spent on my own, lurking at the edge of villages as well as out in the wilderness, until I was picked up by the police.

Right. Now the hard part came. Never during that time had I spoken a word, and now, as they found me, it seemed that…

Here he stopped. It seemed that – what? That I couldn't do it anymore? That I was unable to? That I didn't dare to?

None of Knox's business, indeed! What did he have to ask him for?

It seemed that… Well, it seemed that he was stuck here.

Bloody hell.

Anyway, even if he managed to bring down onto this piece of paper what he felt, they would find it strange and unlikely. They wouldn't understand.

So he would just write… anything. Anything that came to his mind. Never bother about the truth. Your feelings are private, future employer or not.

I somehow had forgotten how to speak, he continued. It was all there; I could write things down (having learned how to read and write from my parents), but I couldn't utter a word. Maybe it was just because I was scared (I was fairly small then), or because I was too shy, or because I feared that my English wasn't good enough. Rubbish, he thought, pausing and giving his own handwriting a critical scan. That had never been his concern. He had known perfectly well that there was nothing wrong with his English. And the other things also weren't quite true. Yes, he had been a bit shy then, but that wouldn't have prevented him from speaking.

They didn't press me, he wrote on, hoping that Knox would take the hint. So it just became a habit of mine. I have been silent ever after.

Well, that wasn't nearly as good as any of his essays. But writing about himself, about his feelings, was giving himself away. That explanation was good enough for Knox. His lips pressed together defiantly, he passed the notepad over.

Knox read it in silence, his expression hard to interpret. Finally he handed it to Vivian and regarded him pensively. "Freak", he murmured.

Normally such remarks hurt him. But not this time. For when Knox said it, he sensed a certain undertone that almost made him smile. Was it really – a little bit of admiration of some sort?

"Sounds like something psychical to me", Vivian remarked. "Ever seen a doctor about it?"

He shook his head violently. What did she think he was, a psychopath? She could call him whatever she wanted, but he was not mentally ill!

"That – event you mention here", Vivian continued. "You haven't yet been quite able to get over it?"

No.

Yes.

He didn't know.

Memories were creeping up on him, catching him off his guard. An image came back to him, long banished to the deepest recesses of his mind, of smoke and flames, wild greedy flames. Screams. Pain. Fear. Despair. He felt his shoulders hunch and couldn't do anything against it. Voices, voices crying out in agony, crying his name. Mother! Father! He was unable to help them. He shivered, hacked his teeth into his lower lip to fight back that howl of misery inside him. Never, never again! He just wanted to forget, never see those pictures anymore, never hear those terrible voices.

There was blood on his tongue. His lip was bleeding.

"Obviously he hasn't", Knox stated matter-of-factly.

Like under a whip he flinched under this remark, clenching his teeth. The taste of blood was getting stronger.

And then a hand gently touched his cheek. "Come with me for a moment", Vivian said softly.

Knox didn't protest as he climbed out after her, glad to feel the cool night wind on his face. What had come over him?

One day he would have to learn to live with his memories. One day he would have to cope with it all.

But he was not ready yet. Not yet.

Vivian led him a few steps into the patch of green beside the parking lot. They were not far away from the car, but shielded by a large bush. For the first time he wondered what Vivian was up to, why she was taking him here. Because she felt sorry for him? Because she knew that Knox was hurting him? Probably she didn't care.

Facing him, Vivian offered him a smile that made the his palms go wet. "Eric just hit a weak spot, didn't he?" she asked.

There was no denying it, so he nodded miserably. He had wanted to be strong and dauntless, and what Knox had found about him with a single personal question was weakness.

"Don't hang your head", Vivian said soothingly. "Everybody has his weak spot. So have I."

He tried a smile, but didn't wholly succeed.

"You know what it is?"

Shaking his head, he watched her coming towards him, irritated by the sensation that his guts had gone all wiggly at once.

"Well-built young men." She was very close now, her breath warming the side of his neck. "There's always that irresistible lure to touch them." While she spoke, her fingers were tracing the lines of his chest, wandering down towards his stomach… Automatically he flexed his muscles, at once flooded with pleasant sensations. Normally he didn't like it when people touched him unnecessarily, but he suffered Vivian to do so. This feeling was new to him, new and exciting. There were things on his mind, thoughts and desires the nuns at the orphanage would consider as extremely sinful. Soiling his stainless young soul, that was what he was doing.

It was high time he did. He yearned to do it.

Vivian's hand had now reached his belt buckle, but – to his disappointment – didn't go any further, but was withdrawn. He gazed at her, urging her with his eyes to go on…

Now wait a minute. He wasn't her plaything!

But as she reached up towards his cheek to pat it, he didn't retreat.

Her fingers touched his lips, tenderly wiped off a drop of blood. "Only a little bit of training", she whispered, "and you'll be magnificent. Mind that. Never let yourself be pushed off course because of your past. I think you might just be the right man. With those aquiline features of yours, and with those marvellous eyes… Listen, would you kill Eric if I told you to?"

Her scent was dazzling. What was that she had just said? Aquiline features, marvellous eyes… Kill Eric Knox?

Before the message had truly reached his consciousness, words had formed in his mind, travelled to his vocal cords… Whatever you command me to do, I will. He opened his mouth, formed the words… but no sound escaped his lips. He tried again, and this time he emitted a soft, low growl – before he returned to his usual habit of nodding.

Yet he managed to nod firmly enough to get the message across.

"Almost", Vivian remarked. "You were quite close to it, weren't you? But never worry about it, your eyes speak clearly enough to me." Again she patted his cheek. "Though I wonder what your answer would have sounded like. I live to serve, maybe?"

He tried to repeat what had been on his mind, but the words were choked in his throat.

There was definitely a wicked look about Vivian now. A femme fatale look. A tiny bit scary, and at the same time more than a tiny bit stimulating. A lot more. "You know what?" she breathed seductively. "I drink your blood, and you will be… mine."

Inhaling deeply, he let the cool night air calm him down, fight the heat building up in him, the heat and the dizziness. Vivian was closer than ever before, their faces only inches apart…

When she kissed him, he still was taken by surprise. The heat was killing him. His first reaction would have been to run for it because he did not know how to react, if not for an instinct awaking, telling him exactly what he had to do. In respond he put his arms around her, pulled her close. One hand wandered up her back, dived into her hair and played in it… Heavens, this was joy, true, pure joy of a kind he had never felt before. He suffered her to suck the blood from his lips, sucking her lips in return, lost in her fragrance, his fingers becoming entangled in her hair, wrapped in soft strands…

A memory returned to him once more, one so bitter and yet so sweet he had never yet found anything alike to. Taking a thin strand of her hair between his fingers, he gave it a yank, felt it come free.

With a tiny shriek, Vivian stepped back from him. He didn't really notice, becoming lost in an emotion so strong it clouded his eyes with tears. Slowly he brought the strand up to his face, sniffed it, analysed its fragrance and compared it to the one he remembered…

"You devil."

He looked up at her, embarrassed, and quickly looked away again, automatically stuffing the hair into his pocket.

"Some sort of fetish, is it?" Again she came very close to him, but not as close as the last time.

Fetish? Did she refer to something sexual? He shook his head. If she knew… When he closed his eyes, he could still see it, the smoke clouding the sight of the distant hills. And he could still smell the fragrance dimly, mingled with the scent of burning wood, and another one, strangely sweet… Was this what burning flesh smelled like?

If she knew…

"So even a kiss cannot loosen your tongue", Vivian stated. "Tougher than I thought."

Oh no, his inner voice answered. There's nothing that can. Nothing in the world. Not even my own will.

Freak, he told himself. Bloody crazy freak.

Vivian seemed to have come to a decision. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it. So we'll just go to the next trial. See how…" Here she paused and smirked before she continued: "… scrupulous you are."

There was no alternative to nodding.