A/N - Apologies for the unconscionable delay in updating this story. I can't make any promises because I'm incredibly busy, but I'm certainly motivated to write this story at the moment, and hopefully it sticks. We're getting to the good stuff now! Thanks to everyone that has stuck with it.

FOURTEEN

Christian

Christian's heart still hadn't stopped pounding. They were miles across the country, departing at a small station he'd never been to before, with half an hour before anyone was even likely to know they were missing, and he hadn't calmed down.

Doubt and guilt still clawed at his skin, and despite his initial relief she was coming too, Rose's presence was making that aspect of it worse.

"Okay," she said, voice calm and face determined. "I don't know anything about this place. Our best bet might just be having a quick wander around town, seeing if we see anything that clicks. An especially shady looking car lot would work wonders right now."

He forced one foot in front of the other. Exhaustion mixed with anxiety, and his mind was beginning to disassociate from the whole situation. He was on auto-pilot.

He hadn't been to the feeders before they'd left, and it was a sunny day, even if freezing. His energy was going to run out sooner rather than later, and they needed to be well on their way by then. Rose couldn't drive, but Christian wasn't sure how long he could sit behind the wheel without nodding off.

They walked close together, but not touching, and he wanted to say something, but he had no idea what.

Sorry my mom might have just ruined your career. Hopefully we'll be able to keep my girlfriend's intact.

Sorry about the wound on your shoulder that's definitely going to scar.

Sorry my stupidity has dragged you into this mess.

"Huh," Rose said, coming to a stop beside him. He did the same automatically.

She was looking at a flyer on the window of a shop. It wasn't a new one, and was partially covered by an advert for Marty's Adult Entertainment Experience, but he could still make out enough to see why it had grabbed her attention.

It was an advert for a rideshare app.

He'd never heard of the concept before, but judging by the age of the advert, it wasn't a new concept in the human world. They were so isolated out at St. Vlad's, in the Moroi world in general, that this had never even crossed his mind.

"It would be untraceable," he said, "And honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to compel someone into letting us buy a car without any documents."

"We need a burner phone," she decided, pushing open the door into the shop and smiling warmly at the balding, middle-aged man behind the counter. He was sitting in front of a small electric heater that made the grease stains on his white shirt glow.

He looked at her with interest, and his glance at Christian was much less friendly.

"Hi," Rose said, peering over the counter at the various handsets locked away behind a glass screen. "I'm a bit useless with these things. I need a new phone, I was hoping you could help?" She gave him a vacant but dazzling smile, and he fell for it immediately.

Christian turned away to hide his smile, and pretended to investigate the contents of the rest of the store.

By the time they left, they had a brand new cell each, and he was sure the man couldn't have turned a profit on the deal he'd given Rose.

"Compulsion, who needs it?" he teased.

She chuckled, mashing the on button and watching as the phone lit up. "We're going to have to see if there's any of these apps we can get away with lying about our identities on," she said. "And see how active they are at all. We'd have been better off going straight with this from the city, if I'd known they existed."

They took shelter from the cold in a cafe, where they huddled beside each other in a booth and sipped on too-hot coffee. Rose didn't lean back against the seat, and he knew it was because of her wound. They'd have to get some more medical supplies. The last thing they needed was an infected wound.

"This is such a dangerous way to travel," Rose said with a tut, scowling at her screen. "I mean, not for us, but can you imagine if we weren't the dream killing team?"

He surprised himself by chuckling. He had no idea what he'd have done if Rose wasn't here, and it was both a good and bad thing. They hadn't had a moment to breathe since leaving the hotel, but at some point soon, when things calmed down, he'd have time to reflect on that flicker of heat when she'd wedged herself between him and the door; to reflect on how he'd shared things he'd never told anyone else.

About how even though she was doing this because he'd played the Lissa card, part of her was doing it for him, too.

"I've got some possibles," he said, to distract himself from dwelling further. "Most of our options are from Harrisburg and Pittsburgh."

"Irritating," she muttered. "But it is what it is."

They settled on one of the less popular apps, one that had a ride share heading from Harrisburg to Columbus in two hours. It was a good distance, but not too long in the same transport method. And completely untraceable. Not unless the Moroi had their teeth sunk into Ridebros, which Christian thought was unlikely.

They got a cab to Harrisburg, figuring it was the least traceable method, and stocked up on medical supplies and food. Christian was drained, throat dry for blood and muscles feeling ready to spasm with exhaustion from yesterday's fight and no sleep.

Their rideshare driver was a guy bigger than both of them put together with plenty of questionable tattoos, driving a rundown car Christian wasn't convinced would last an hour, nevermind six, of driving, but he wasn't worried.

The second they set off along Route 76, and with Rose keeping guard beside him, Christian was out like a light.

He woke up to the bright lights of a city at night time, and was immediately on edge. His head was resting against Rose's shoulder, body straining against the seatbelt, and her head leaned softly on his as well.

His throat was even drier, and he tried his best to ignore it, reaching down for his bag while trying not to jostle Rose.

"You're awake?" she asked, lifting her head.

"Barely."

"Good timing. We're almost there."

"It's dark."

She chewed her bottom lip. "It's a busy city. Not that dark, really."

"Did you want dropping anywhere particular?" the guy from the front seat asked, fixing them with a glare in the overhead mirror. Christian didn't take it personally — the man hadn't stopped glaring from the second he'd pulled up beside them in Harrisburg.

"Wherever is convenient for you," Rose said. "As long as it's central."

He dropped them off in the center of the city, on a street which was wall to wall shops, still brightly lit with clothes and technology beaming up at them. It wasn't that late yet, and the streets still bustled with people, which was comforting.

"What next?" he asked, no less exhausted despite his long sleep. The lack of blood was starting to get to him, and he was desperately avoiding thinking about it.

"I think we should get a hotel," she said. "We've covered a bunch of ground, and you look as dead on your feet as I feel."

Stopping moving was tempting and horrifying all at once, but he nodded. Rose was right. They were on the run, but that didn't mean they could continue to hop from place to place every five seconds. They would have to take some breaks. And besides, he dreaded to think how much money they had already burned through.

They found a hotel that wouldn't cost them a fortune, but was big and central enough that it would be hell for a Strigoi to even approach.

In the twin room, Christian kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed, staring at the off-white ceiling.

Rose came and sat cross-legged beside him, frowning down. She had dark circles under her eyes as well, but they were still sharp, and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You need to feed," she said, unflinching.

Christian glanced away. "No. Tomorrow."

"Normally I'd have said yes. We're going to have to be sensible about this. I need to be strong during the nights, just in case, but you've gone too long, and we've outrun everyone tonight." She pulled her hair over her shoulder, exposing her tanned, smooth neck, and he couldn't help but stare, mouth drier than ever. "Let's just get it over and done with and we can both go to sleep."

He knew she wasn't going to back down on this, but he still wanted to fight her. She shouldn't have to do this, especially not after what she'd admitted to him the night before. He shouldn't have put her in this position.

And the last person in the world he wanted to sink his fangs into was Rose. Not after Spokane. Not when he'd spent so many nights doing exactly that, and not stopping. Not when he'd seen his own eyes turn red with the consequences of bleeding her dry.

He jumped when her hand rested on his wrist. "Christian," she said, softly. "It's fine."

"It's not fine." But he still sat up, clenching his hands into fists and then releasing them. "Just leave it until morning."

Rose twisted her hair tighter into a coil, baring her neck further, and tilting her head slightly. "Just get it over and done with. You won't feel so awkward about it after you've done it once."

"It's not awkwardness," he muttered, fangs aching as he watched her pulse thrum in her neck, revealing her own anticipation. "What if I don't stop?" He pressed his fingers against her carotid, and the blood pounded against them, pace increasing further.

She looked over her shoulder, cheeks tinged a little pink, eyes a little dilated. He hadn't realized how close she was, sitting beside him. "I trust you, Christian. Completely."

He sighed, even as he believed her. He shuffled a little closer, so her shoulder was resting against his chest and he could get to her neck. At the feeders it would have been so much less personal, but with Rose he couldn't just stand over her like he was drinking from a piece of meat.

He had no idea what to do with his hands.

His fangs ghosted over her throat, and he heard her breath catch. A strong, sudden urge begged him to kiss her first, to lace his fingers through her hair and surprise her with an open-mouthed, desperate kiss instead.

He buried it, blaming his hunger and exhaustion, the fact biting her was the last thing he wanted to do, so he was coming up with any alternative.

Instead, he sunk his fangs into her neck. The relief of the blood was immediate, but he resolutely focused on Rose, not on the primal satisfaction of feeding.

She gasped when his fangs first broke skin, but his fears he'd hurt her were quelled when the next sound was the smallest moan of satisfaction. Heat clawed through his body, and he pulled back sooner than he would have done if she were one of the feeders at St. Vlad's.

Rose's head leaned back against him, hair splayed across his shoulder, two small puncture wounds glaring at him from her neck.

She took a deep breath, and released a longer, shuddering one. He accepted the weight of her, letting her ride out the high.

"Sorry," she murmured, moving her head a little, hot breath fanning against his neck and making goose bumps rise. "It's been a while."

"You should lie down," he said, softly, though he wasn't sure he wanted her to move at all.

"Yeah. We're going to need to start early tomorrow." She leaned forward, stretched, and made a noise of pain as it disrupted the wound on her shoulder. Then she lay down where he had been moments before, jostling her shoulder again, he was sure, but not flinching.

She was only half on the bed, and he stood up so that she could lift her legs on and curl up properly. He pulled her shoes off for her, and left them at the end of the bed. Her eyes remained closed, and she didn't speak. Christian hoped she was asleep — she needed the rest much more than he did, now he'd fed.

As he was about to make his way to the other bed, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him there. For a heartbeat, he almost thought she was going to ask him to stay, to lay down beside her.

Her eyes didn't open, though, and she squeezed his wrist, gently. "You'd never hurt me, Christian."

He rested his fingers against the pulse in her wrist, and felt the blood pulsing beneath them. His lip quirked in spite of himself. "Yeah," he replied softly. "I know."