Bromley Mansion, Ground Floor, Living Room

Frankie couldn't remember a time when he'd felt such confusion. The last time surely dated back to his human days. He swore his eyes must be burning with all the conflicts that were erupting inside him right now. He was beyond the point where he could tell if this feeling was directed at himself or solely at her. She was responsible for this slip-up.

Letting her go so far as to use physical force on him was the first mistake he'd made. Responding to her kiss had been his second. Giving in to his fucking hormones was the biggest. He hadn't even felt her hand creep into his pocket to withdraw the weapon because he'd been too dazed.

What made it worse was that he'd been inattentive because he felt something for this girl. He couldn't explain the gut feeling he'd gotten when she'd pressed herself against him. It wasn't normal to feel like that as a vampire. If it had been lust, he could have handled it. But what had flooded his body in that moment was something he hadn't experienced for years. He was certain that something was wrong with him. Allowing himself to be stripped of his rationality was downright stupid.

The collision of the knife butt with his head had left him stunned and sightless for almost a minute. She was more practiced in combat tricks than he knew. There had been fireworks whizzing across his vision and though he'd tried to focus on them, they had drifted out of his sight the second he tried. Then the pain had come, radiating into his skull and washing away the dizziness so he could see again. It had also rendered him unable to move for quite some time.

He'd felt the bruising under his skin and cursed in multiple fashions as he'd heaved himself onto his knees. The corridor had been strangely askew as he managed to get onto his feet but he'd stayed up. His limbs had carried him down the stairs and as the pain had spread further through his head because he'd whipped it towards the door; he'd known he'd fucked up.

The door had been wide open and the night sky had greeted him. It had also been empty. No Alison.

How had he not seen this coming? He should have never taken the handcuffs off. He should have sensed it as soon as she put her lips on his. Like hell would she show physical affection after expressing her disgust for what he stood for. He should have known then and there that she had an ulterior motive. Reflecting on it now, he couldn't believe the lack of control he'd had over himself. He was supposed meant to use his head to think, not other parts of the anatomy.

Naturally, he'd stormed after her, following the direction of a very startled woman who had been tending her garden next door. He'd looked intimidating enough in his uniform that she hadn't asked questions, simply pointed down the road. Or it had been the blazing predator appearance he'd sported when he'd rushed outside. He'd been furious. Either way, the neighbor had saved him precious time.

As he ran and followed the scent of adrenalin, he'd tried to gather his cool. At this rate, she was probably thinking clearer than him and that would give her the advantage exactly the way it had worked two minutes ago. The streets were empty and he was glad for it. In a crowd, it would have been harder to find her. The wind gusting through the maze of roads and houses carried her scent and he followed the trail like a wolf.

He couldn't let her escape. It would cost him, everything. His reputation and goodwill with his boss, his job most likely, his position in the high middle class and most importantly his direct link to blood. At this time, nobody could afford slack. Alison Bromley was his key to a good life and if he didn't have her back by the time the sun rose, chances were high that she'd burn. She probably wanted it that way.

He'd passed an impressive mansion and paused when he realized how intense the sensation of another vampire close by became. She was straight ahead, taking a break surely, because there was no way he'd have caught up so fast after that head start. He prowled along the hedges that lined the pavement, quickening his steps the further he got, senses sharpened to their fullest. There.

Like a rabbit darting from its cover, she'd abandoned her cover. He hadn't seen her just yet but the noise that erupted around the corner as she fled was enough indication. He'd rounded the bend and seen what he'd pictured. She had practically flown across the tarmac, trying to gain distance again but he'd seen the panic fueling her movements. They'd been too rapid. She had been pushing herself to her limits already because it was her last attempt.

He'd let her have her chance at breaking in through the back door of the house she'd veered to and took his time catching up with her. He admired her for still hoping somebody would help her. Although it was more if a sick idea of revenge by leaving her in the belief that she could escape. Latest by the time he pulled out his ID, the inhabitants would have backed off without question. Sparing the people inside the trouble, he'd closed in on her.

Grabbing her off the back porch hadn't been hard. She'd fired a string of such graphic words at him that had him wondering about the kind of company she must have had to learn that vocabulary. He'd felt slightly delirious with pain and adrenalin during the chase but now cold certainty hit him. He felt his facial muscles freeze into place and his arms become a cage around her. He didn't felt the blows she rained down on his back nor the knee she dug into his stomach repeatedly on the walk back. His body became irrelevant.

He only needed to finish his task and do it in control. Whatever superficial injuries he received along the way shouldn't bother him. Any more slacking from here on out and he would personally resign from his position. There would be no more mistakes on his part, he promised. She could kick and scream all she wanted because it didn't matter anymore.

The house door was still open and he passed through mindless of the fact that she was still squirming and therefore thudded against the frame. Not with one peep did she acknowledge the pain but he felt her body tense as she clenched her teeth. He kicked the door shut with his heel and it smashed into its lock with a force that had her cringing. Good. He couldn't wait to execute the punishment for her stunt.

He ditched her rebellious body on the sofa, knowing she didn't have the guts to try running a second time. He would place all his money on the fact that she wouldn't manage it onto the pavement. Actually, not even out of the door. She was exhausted, she must be. Her first proper drink of blood had been half a day ago. She needed to replace all that energy she'd wasted in her failed escape. She was in no shape to manage another bolt.

He rummaged through his bag in the kitchen, pulling the stupid handcuffs back out. She'd been so much more pleasant without them on and had used her first unbound opportunity. He should have foreseen that.

She had remained on the sofa, her arms looped around her sides and clasped below her pulled up knees. She looked childlike. Submissive almost. He could imagine her turning puppy-eyes on him and asking him to accept her apology. Not that she would give one. She was too stubborn for that. He needed to at least embed the message that he wasn't one to be messed with.

He positioned himself right in front of her so that his legs touched the toes of her sneakers. She flinched away from his scrutiny and leaned back involuntarily as his face neared hers. He kept his expression unreadable as his hands wandered towards hers. He took in the paling of her face as the metallic click of the handcuffs echoed in the silence. Her struggle to swallow because panic was clogging her throat was a welcome sight. He wanted to click his tongue softly like a parent would and explain to her, You can't swallow fears. They just get worse. They creep into the rest of your body and you can't get rid of them anymore.

Soothingly, he let his thumb trail down her cheek and saw with satisfaction that his touch sent her further into whatever phobia was taking hold of her. Bloodlust flamed inside of him at her display of fear when her pupils widened and suddenly her breathing halted. She waited, breathless for the verdict. He smiled. Slowly and missing emotion.

"I think you really shouldn't have done that"

Her eyes squeezed shut. She inhaled and waited for the torture.

He looked at her steeling herself against him as though he was about to strike her across the face. He was surprised that she'd resigned herself to accepting his control. She must know that he wasn't allowed to harm her. He was here to protect her. He couldn't hurt her for this. He hadn't known it was possible to be so torn between bashing his own head against a wall and doing the same to hers.

He gripped the link of the cuffs and tugged it upwards so her arms rose above her head and she had to stand up with the motion in order to avoid ripping them out of their sockets. She was almost touching him now, standing and staring at him with undiluted fear, trying to figure out his actions before he committed them. He watched a hundred options of what he might do to her passing through her eyes. He almost laughed at her. Did she really think he could physically harm her and get away with it?

"What was that up there?" he asked instead, his voice collected and not hinting at the crazy, verbal duels happening in his head.

She dropped her eyes to the floor and pressed her lips together. That didn't help because he nudged her chin up with his hand again and repeated the question, only with an accompanying snarl, "What the hell was that up there?"

She couldn't get any words out. She was the deer caught in the headlights and there simply was no answer. Her lips moved soundlessly and she looked so helpless that he couldn't stop himself any longer. He laughed.

She blanched violently at the noise and he let her go, moving forward again so she fell back onto the sofa in her attempt to keep a certain space between their bodies. That didn't stop him. Cuffed as she was, she didn't manage to angle her hands in such a way that she could press them against his chest to keep him away. Neither did she dare to hit him again. He was glad she finally knew what was best for her. His laughter faded as the proximity grew and but his eyes mocked her.

"What? Don't tell me you thought I would just overlook that you bash my head in?" he sneered at her face, "Just like I wouldn't notice that you would run off because you kissed me senseless? Was that the plan, huh?"

"No," she whispered, trying to make her voice firmer.

"Let me make one thing very clear," he bent close to her ear, "You're. Not. Going. Anywhere. There's nobody out there. The vampires aren't going to pity you and the humans aren't going to let you anywhere near them. Nobody that you can trust. So stop trying."

She remained still in her seat and didn't look up at him. It was as though the truth of his words had sunken into her body and left her without any will to reject his order.

For once he didn't feel compelled to make her feel better because she'd brought this on herself and he couldn't find it in him to ignore the throbbing in his temple. Not to mention the disgusting feeling of failure she'd sparked in him when she fled. He abhorred feeling as though he'd failed somebody and in that moment he'd ruined the faith that Charles Bromley had placed in him.

He pushed away from the cushions of the sofa and stood in front of her, waiting for her to raise her head and acknowledge what he'd said. To admit defeat.

"Can't you just take out your anger on me now and get it over with? I know you're itching to," she demanded, still facing his shoes instead of his eyes.

He gave that some thought for a bit before he moved his head to the side in denial.

"No," he said and found it was true. He wasn't going to because, really, what was there to do?

Depraving her of blood as punishment was forbidden. So was physical harm. Psychological beating was out of the question because he was meant to keep her from committing suicide, not pitch her towards it. Even if he were one to hold grudges, there wasn't much he could do without risking everything. He didn't want to add that he wasn't exactly thrilled to cause her any pain even though he'd been trained in the infliction of excruciating but invisible injuries. He couldn't. She always had the chance of spilling it to her father, even if she despised him almost as much as she did Frankie.

Alison grew rigid with annoyance. Apparently once he dropped the ferocious demeanor, her resilience came straight back.

"Then stop asking me these questions!" her voice rose, fear disappearing behind frustration, "You know the answers anyway! I distracted you to get out and it almost worked. I did it in the most disgusting, low way imaginable but I'd do it all over again if there was a chance I'd make it out this time. I know I'd stab you right through the chest if it meant I'd get my freedom!"

"Weren't you listening to me? Who are you going to go to?" he countered calmly, ignoring her threat, "Which one of your human friends is going to help you when you're suddenly the enemy?"

"You don't know anything about them so why don't you just shut the hell up!" she snarled, leaping from the couch to stand almost nose-to-nose with him, "I'm not you. I don't skip along the road sucking on humans whenever I feel like it"

"Right," he agreed sarcastically, "You're just like my brother. The human-lover. But you can trust me when I tell you this," he dropped his tone to a whisper, "When you smell freshly leaking blood, straight from the body, you're not going to think about your relationship with that person. You're going to suck your best friend dry for all you care when it comes to it."

"Never"

"Eternity is long. If there's one of your humans left by the time your Father allows you out, I'll prove it to you"

"You're sick" she accused him.

"Says the girl who sexually assaults me"

How did he say that with such a straight face? She wondered absently, even though she was more concentrating on keeping her jaw from dropping at the incredulity of his statement. She bet that any street thug had more manners.

"You can't assault the willing," she shot back, challenging him.

His eyes flickered. She only picked it up because she was barely an inch away from him otherwise she'd have passed it off as a trick of the light. Either she'd just had a mirage happen in front of her eyes or she'd hit the truth on the head.

He didn't jibe back and as the silence stretched the space started to fill with recent memories. Her eyes involuntarily moved from his eyes down to his mouth, which just happened to be exactly on her eye-level. His gaze moved down with hers and rested on her lips in the same gesture. When had they even moved so close together?

Then he let out his breath and backed off. She felt the air rush in between their bodies as the gap widened. He simply looked cold again. A man carved into ice.

"Don't run again," was all he said before he went back into the kitchen.

Alison watched his back as he zipped up his bag and stowed multiple weapons from his uniform in the side pockets. He seemed completely detached from the entire episode that had just happened. She'd thought he would actually kill her. He certainly had looked murderous as he'd carried her home. Then, it was as if a mask had been placed onto that face and he'd simply warned her again. Not even a threat.

She stared at the handcuffs that circled her wrists again. She hated those things but this time, he had a point for putting them on her.

She glanced back at him as he worked, watching the solid arms flex under the jacket. She could still feel them clenched in barely contained anger around her midsection.

Her next attempt would have to be better. A whole lot better.