Chapter 8: Struggle

A/N: I'm glad everyone seems to be liking this fic! This chap's got a ton of action, so be happy. It made me want to scream after I read it over and realized what I'd written. Heh, I tend to do that to myself. And sorry for the chappie's shortness... Anyway, enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: Everything but Emmie is AHAR's.

It is the strangest sensation, having my blood taken. I feel no pain, although Jager has bitten into my throat with sharp fangs. No, the feeling is pleasant, and I don't want him to stop.

My head is spinning from loss of blood when he finally pulls away reluctantly; I feel like I am floating. No worries, I tell myself...

The pressure of his mind on mine lifts a little, probably because he thinks I am too weak to notice. I blink rapidly because suddenly, something feels wrong. "Jager," I say, my voice thick and slurred like when I'm drunk, "you said you wouldn't do that again." He still has me in his arms, and I turn up my face to smile at him, besotted. He kisses my nose, and the reek of fresh blood floods my nostrils.

I almost want to gag. "Your turn," he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, so calm, that I almost go along with him when he brings my face to his neck. There is a cut there, and blood--crimson, vampiric blood--drips slowly out of it. Jager seems oblivious to the fact that he is ruining his shirt.

I look at the blood and feel temptation burning in my gut. But I force myself to tear my gaze away, instead stare up at Jager and slap him across the face.

He stumbles back because I surprised him and lets go of me. I have to grab onto the chains of a swing to stop myself from falling down, but I am lucid enough to know what he was going to do to me. "How dare you!" I scream. "You damn murderer! Don't you understand that when I want something, I get it? And do you know why? Not because I'm strong, but because I'm stubborn. So leave me alone!"

Jager makes as if to reach out at me, but the rush of satisfaction at hitting him gives me the courage to backhand him again as hard as I can. I let myself feel pride for a moment, but only a moment--

Something slams into my mind, and a pain so intense that I'm blinded for a moment overtakes my mind. The pressure is back and I feel myself collapsing, but Jager catches me.

"Not fair," I gasp and through a blurry vision, see him grin. But it's a furious smile.

"You, Emmie," he says with maddened patience, "have angered me."

"Good," I spit out, and then moan under both the pressure of his mind and his sudden decision to press his lips to my mouth. My stomach flips over and I want to kill the part of me that has feelings for him. He takes my wrist and presses my fingertips to his throat. It is wet with blood again, and when I pull my hand away, I stare at my scarlet-stained skin. I bring it to my mouth, suddenly needing to taste it...

No. I don't want this, a part of me yells.

So I fight him.

Tooth and nail, they call it. I drag my bloodied hand across Jager's shirt to get rid of the stains and then try to shove him away.

I can hear him laughing.

You'll be strong, he tells me, and his amusement only fuels my anger.

"Get--out of my--head!" I shriek above his laughter.

Why must you be so difficult? he scolds gently, but his power on my mind is anything but gentle.

I finally feel myself breaking under his insane vampiric strength. My body sags in his arms, even though I'm ordering it to struggle.

The smell of blood is so tempting it scares me. I don't want to give in, but...

He paints my pursed lips ith his blood, and I try so hard to ignore it. I wonder if it looks like bright lipstick, or just the smeared blood it is. Taste it, Jager orders.

He kisses me and I my love for him leaves me no choice but to open my mouth to respond. I taste the blood on my tongue as he pulls away, and suddenly I can't resist anymore. I am greedy.

I lean forward and gulp from the gash at his throat like a starved child, the blood sweet and thick as it rolls over my tongue. It is better than any liquor I know of.

I drink and drink until he pushes me away. Still, I want more, but Jager sets me gently on the ground, on my back, and I moan for him to stop.

Stop what? I shake my head; I don't know. Go to sleep, little Emmie. You'll wake soon enough.

His voice fades away and I do sleep, a complete, black oblivion.

My heart ceases to beat.

Blood roars in my ears for the last time.

I stop breathing

and sleep.