Finally an update! Sorry, I've been having a bit of writer's block lately, but expect more regular updates from now on.

Enjoy!


His scent is everywhere, surrounding me. I feel like I'm trapped in a fog. I inhale, mouth watering, as his teeth lower toward my neck, drugged by the heavy, musky aroma. It's a scent similar to Edward's, but also completely different. Instead of clean and fresh, his perfume is dark and exotic; reminiscent of a room filled with incense—o f long, summer nights.

Lips on my neck, his mouth opens and I feel his tongue, cold and wet, licking my neck. This completely alien feeling rips me from my woozy state, dragging my muddled mind back into reality.

I try to push away from him, but he's too strong.

Plan! I need a plan; I need to stop this, no matter what!

"Wait!" I whisper urgently, knowing that his teeth are hovering inches away from the tender flesh of my throat, "Please don't… I don't want to die."

Louis sighs, like the weight of the world is hanging on his shoulders. His eyes meet mine. They're glazed over, lids hooded, reminding me of the look on a predator's face before it leaps on its prey. But, maybe I'm just imagining it, there's also a hint of regret and bitterness in their crimson depths.

"I h-have an idea." I stutter, taking advantage of the lapse in his focus, "That can help both of us."

Lip curling, he glares in return, a low growl catching in his throat. He's like a panther, transformed into a wild animal, lusting for blood. I stare back, standing as still as possible, knowing that the slightest movement could easily bring about my demise. Finally he releases me, and reluctantly draws back a step. One delicate hand reaches up, shakily, to cover his nose and mouth.

"You have one minute. I can't promise what will happen after that."

A chill runs down my spine, but I fight against my fear, knowing that it won't help me.

"Take my blood, but don't turn me into a vampire."

His eyes widen slightly, a gesture that would be imperceptible if I wasn't gazing so intently at his face. "…What?"

"Just…don't bite me. You can take it without doing that, right? Without killing me? Then, you can make my blood last over a long period of time, and still use me for your plans!"

He doesn't respond right away, turning his head to the side, features hidden by a dark, curtain of hair. I wait patiently, trying to give the appearance of being strong. In truth, I can barely breathe in his stifling presence.

Antsy and tired of waiting, I blurt out the first thought that comes to mind. "What, afraid you can't do it? Don't you have any self- control, you coward?"

Wow, I'm an idiot, I'm shocked by my own brazenness, Earth to Bella! First rule when you're facing a blood-thirsty vampire: Don't FREAKING INSULT HIM!



He slams his fist against the wall, too fast for the human eye to see. The entire room shakes, and a deep, cracked imprint is left behind.

"NEVER!" He bellows, spitting viciously, "NEVER CALL ME A COWARD!"

I shrink back. His voice is loud and reverberating, ringing in my ears. If anything, I had expected more cold, piercing sarcasm, not this sudden outburst. His expression… let's just say if looks could kill, I'd all ready be six feet under.

Still, it's like something has snapped inside of me. I can't stop my anger, my frustration from pouring out. "Come on!" I yell in return, though my voice cracks embarrassingly, "Edward once drank my blood; he sucked a vampire's venom from my hand! And, my blood is more irresistible to him than anyone!"

Jaw clenching, eyes narrowing, his fists begin to shake even more violently, "Well, he LOVED you, I could care less!"

"You can't do it, how pathetic!" I scoff.

He vanishes, reappearing right in front of me. Gasping, I resist the urge to run, standing my ground.

"I have more self-control then you give me credit for."

His eyes are such a brilliant red. I know he must have fed recently, perhaps within the last hour. It gives me courage. My only hope is to challenge him, insult his ego.

"Then show me!" I jut my chin upwards, defiantly.

It's like déjà vu—the same position, the same situation as just a few minutes before. He's hovering over me like a bat, so near that I feel like I can be swallowed up in his shadow. Then, much to my amazement, he smiles. Not that big, or brilliant, but still a smile. A slight curve of his lips that is neither a smirk nor a grimace—it's beautiful. Again, I am reminded of an angel. Is this what Lucifer, the light-bringer, looked like? The one who shone most brightly in heaven, then was cast down into the pits of hell?

"You're more interesting than I thought." I begin to speak, but he places a single finger on my lips, "Shh, silence, ma cherie, j'accepte."

Even though he says it in French, it's easy enough to understand. I nod, needlessly, clenching my eyes shut. His icy breath tickles, as he lifts my wrist to his nose and inhales deeply. Then, there's a light prick, a little pinpoint of pain on the innermost part of my wrist. I peek through the corner of my eye, noting with relief that he has not bitten me, instead using the tip of a knife to puncture my skin.

Now all I can do is hope, pray to god that he will be able to stop himself once he begins, that he won't completely lose control. With a sort of morbid fascination, I watch as his lips latch onto my wrist. What a strange position we're in. Me, standing straight, looking down on him, as he bends over my wrist, both hands grasping my arm. If someone were to enter the room, perhaps it would look like I am the dominate one, and he's merely a suppliant paying his respects.



Ah, I can feel it.

The sucking is a strange, unnatural sensation. His mouth moves on my arm, teeth lightly scraping along my skin. My arm feels empty, so empty and light that it could float away any second. A warm, bubbly feeling overtakes me, and I almost become euphoric, light-headed and giddy. His lips are like ice, but I can barely tell, since my skin burns wherever they touch.

Just as I'm about to say something, he pulls away abruptly. I snatch my hand away, clutching it to my chest protectively. The tips of my fingers are completely numb. The room lurches wildly. I feel exactly the same as the first (and last) time I drank. It was at a party in Phoenix, and after only two beers I could hardly walk straight. Two blurred images of Louis stand before me, four eyes piercing, "You should sit down."

He grabs me by the waist, and plops me into one of the arm chairs. In an attempt to stop the spinning, I wrap my arms over my head, resting my head between my knees. Something warm and sticky trickles down my cheek. I rub it off, and I realize it's blood, staring at my red-stained hand. Lifting my head, I look down at my shirt to find long, crimson stains streaked across.

"I'm bleeding." I state the obvious, pursing my lips, "Oh god, I'm bleeding! I'm going to bleed to death and I die!" How ironic would that be? After all that work, bleeding to death from the wound that was supposed to save me. I look up at Louis pleadingly, half-forgetting that he's the one who caused this entire situation. His eyes are shining even more brilliantly than before, crinkling in amusement. He's no longer the irrational beast, having transformed back into my cold, captor—still dangerous, but far less unpredictable than his frenzied state.

"Idiot, you're not going to die." His low voice is strangely reassuring, "Give me your arm."

I obey, surrendering control. One of his hands holding my own, he rips of a long, strip of cloth from the arm of his shirt. Teeth clenched in concentration, he tightly binds the wound on my arm. When he has finished, the makeshift bandage is so tight that I feel as if my arm is about to fall off.

"What, never heard of band-aids?" I joke weakly, as he stands up again.

"Why would I ever need one?" His question is an answer in itself.

Louis strides to a chest of drawers, extracts a thick, wooly blanket and practically throws it at me. It's only then that I realize how cold I am. Goosebumps cover my arms, and I have been shivering violently without even realizing it.

How did he…?

I'm almost tempted to say thank you at this random, act of kindness but I bite the words back. What do I have to thank him for? This is all his fault anyways! I scrutinize him. His tall lithe form, the smooth skin running up his naked arm—what can his intentions really be?

"Stay here." He orders, pointing at the chair, "I'll send someone to get you, momentarily."



I want to protest, to insist that I'm strong enough to stand and leave by myself, thank you very much! But, my eyes are all ready heavy with exhaustion. I wrap the blanket around myself, turning sideways to rest my head on the arm of the chair. He takes a step toward the door then, hesitating, glances over his shoulder. Sometime during our exchange his hair must have come loose, as it is now hanging freely down hi s back.

"I hope you can continue to surprise me in the future, Bella. For both our sakes"

He flips the light switch and leaves me in a welcoming darkness that quickly engulfs me in sleep.


Bella's pretty good at thinking on the spot, huh? But, there are many more trials still facing her! What will her training entail? Can she really perfect her powers in two months? Who are the others that live in the castle?

Find out the answers to at least one of these questions in the next chapter! (It's one that I'm really excited about, since I'll get to introduce one of my favorite characters)

Review!