A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys, you're awesome! I use a tiny bit of German in this chapter, but I had to use a translator, so if any native speakers stop by and see that I've somehow typed something like 'off, you chicken,' I'd be much obliged if you reviewed/left me the correct translation. Also...Swedish speakers want to do me a massive favor and translate a couple sentences for my next chapter?

Again, thanks so much guys!

"Eric," I moaned, his lips moving in a pleasing pattern that strayed down to my neck. "Eric, no." I pushed away from him, tried to bring my knees to my chest and force space between us, but I was powerless, pinned under the weight of him. I was no match, and no matter how angry I got, no matter how much adrenaline powered my cells, I wasn't going to overpower him.

"Eric!" I screamed, hoping my voice, my volume would reach him, "Stoppen Sie bette*!" It wasn't Swedish, but I figured he would have picked up German somewhere along the line. He let go of me and I sat up, mind reeling, telling myself that I had not enjoyed his touch, his lips on my skin; that he had not inspired the heat in my body that made me perspire under my jacket.

"You speak German?" His eyes followed mine, taking one in, then looking at the other. He was still far, far too close for my taste. For my own good.

"A little." I smoothed my hair back and pushed him so he stood up, stepped away from me. "I was friends with a few German kids when I live in England. One in particular always made fun of me because I couldn't pronounce 'ich' to his liking."

"So," he said, changing gears, his voice becoming all business, with a tinge of that condescending purr I'd come to abhor so well. "What major problem did you solve today?"

"Well, your liquor vender was overcharging you massively; I threatened him with not-so flattering media exposure and the American Vampire League."

Eric didn't acknowledge my words right away; he sat stock still, gazing upon the empty shelves across the room before running a hand over his jaw vacantly. The tiny hairs on my arms, my body stood up to gauge the meaning of his silence; they tested the temperature of the room, pointed toward Eric like mini satellites trying to get a reading on the deadly calm of a nearby planet. When he came back to himself, showed signs of life, or at least animation, his head turned to look at me. I held myself up to his microscope, breathed evenly and tried to keep my façade of collection, of fearlessness.

"You may be worth the trouble you cause, after all." A back-handed compliment if I've ever heard one. "I knew he was overcharging, but I thought it would have taken you a little while to figure it out."

"And if I hadn't?"

"I would have dealt with it myself." His lips parted in a wolf smile, an imitation of friendliness, of joy that only hid the danger that was lurking just out of the corner of your eye.

"I would have enjoyed watching that," I said, knowing that the attitude was probably immoral. But it was true.

"You wouldn't have tried to protect the poor human vendors from my wrath?" Eric asked, inching into my space. He was physically intimidating, and he knew it. But I was not his. My body belonged to me. I stuck a finger out, pointed it into his chest and eased pressure into the digit. He caught my drift and stopped advancing, though he didn't back off any.

"Yeah, because his being human makes it alright to break the law." I rolled my eyes, knowing the gesture would come off as an adolescent tic, but he brought it out of me. "I don't care what anybody is—and I've never been a big fan of the human race in general. These humans were getting away with extortion because they thought they could."

I sighed, tired of vampire and human politics. "There's good and bad, and everyone is capable of both. That's it."

"Good work," is all Eric said before unfolding his long limbs to get up. He towered over me, our height difference, especially while I was seated, was laughable. He ambled back toward his office, but I called out to him.

"Does this mean I can leave?" I asked, and he stopped, though he kept his back to me. "I do know the way, after all." I couldn't help throwing in the little dig to show him that I was outside the bounds of total control.

"No, you'll stay." He was punishing me. Fine, I'd have a good time in the bar if it killed me, which was entirely possible. My ipod was sitting precariously on the edge of the couch, forgotten in the heat of Eric's anger. I lifted it to my chest, hugged it to me and plugged the earphones back in. I needed something calming, something to smooth my frayed nerves.

Bon Iver flowed out, up through the cord connected to my ipod and into my ears. I closed my eyes, focused on each muscle group, actively trying to unclench my body, which felt like a live wire. My reflex responses were telling me to fight, or run. Too bad neither would help here; Eric's strength and his inability at first to stop himself had scared me more than I wanted to admit. In my head, I walked through the steps of the progressive relaxation method, a sort of self-guided meditation that allowed for the release of tension. I needed it; my fingers, my body, my soul begged for some sort of release, and I didn't know what to give it.

My quiet moment was interrupted when, one again, my headphones were snatched from my ears. The music that still played sounded soft, tinny from so far away.

"What," Pam drawled, raising a bored eyebrow, "are you doing?"

"Ah," I rubbed my eyes. "It's sort of self-hypnosis."

"You're a hypnotist?" She was interested, now. I glanced over her shoulder; Eric had come out of his office and was staring at us without any expression on his face. She turned to look at him and he smiled, an indulgent, paternal expression that softened him. I looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out their history, their link. I was too curious for my own good. Pam said something to him in Swedish, cutting me out of the conversation. They spoke of me, though, because Eric's eyes drifted toward me, then back to Pam. He said something back, appeared to think something over for a moment while I sat, their subject, suspended between them.

I remained silent, didn't betray my contempt over their high school exclusionary practices. Pam's eyes caught mine again, and I felt like a deer spotted by a hunter. She was vampire and enjoyed every moment, no doubts about it.

"Not really. I took a class, theory of hypnosis, in school, for a science credit."

"I can hypnotize people, too," she said, the words themselves innocent, white as snow, but the meaning behind them was pointed. Of course I knew about the vampire's glamour, but I'd never been subject to it.

"Elliot," Eric said, but his voice was different, layered with a sort of undulation that reached for me from across the room like a tentacle, lifted my chin so I stared directly into his eyes. He dropped my gaze to come closer; it gave me a split second to retrieve myself, to look down at my hands, which he took hold of, stroking the soft skin just below my knuckles.

"Look at me, Elliot." Internally, I was recalcitrant, unwilling to let him exert mental authority over me. That was what I clung to, the power of my own mind; I could never protect myself from him physically, but I could fight back by thinking on my feet, sidestepping him when he came for me. But my resistance wasn't enough, couldn't hold a candle to his supernatural influence. I looked up into his azure stare, furious with myself, shouting internally as I obeyed him.

"Good girl," Eric cooed, which sent me into a frenzy.

"She's shaking," Pam said, looking at me like I was a mouse in a lab, an experiment.

"Raise your right hand, Elliot," Eric continued. No, I thought. That's ridiculous, I'm not his dog. He won't treat me like a…I felt my palm slide away from the smooth material of my trousers No, no, no, this was not happening. I would not be taken by him, couldn't be owned like that! I struggled, tried to lower my arm, but I could only halt its progress a few inches above my leg.

"Tell me, Elliot, what did you like about our second night together?" Pam smiled, that of a hyena; I felt like I was looking at them through a spyglass. They were far away, had locked me up somewhere in my own body.

"That…" No, I ordered. These words can't come out; they're not his to know. "You…" My teeth gritted together as my body tried desperately to bite back the syllables, the sounds, reel them in so no one would know they'd ever been though, ever been meant.

"Yes?" he urged, layering the spell thick with insistence. "What?"

"Seemed…so…." They were out of me, drawn like I was a dispenser. But I couldn't let him make me finish the sentence; it was too personal, for me and him. Though the tentacles of his spell were still wrapped around me, I pushed against them and felt a painful pulse in my mind.

"Did you break her?" Pam asked of Eric; I'd gone silent, and apparently bitten my lip because I tasted the sharp copper tang of blood in my mouth, felt it dribble down my chin. I was released from his hold in that moment, and fury washed me like the hot water of a shower. This time, it was all mine. Eric still looked at me, and I knew he felt the surge of malice that threatened to spill into action. I wanted to hit him, to tear at him until he was as powerless as I felt, wanted to make him bleed for me so I could look down upon him and be satisfied with the damage I'd done, because he had struck first, and harder; it's just that my wounds were invisible to him.

Pam, who was closest to me, was drawn closer, I assume, by the blood that had dripped down my chin and begun to seep into my white silk shirt. She raised a pale, delicate finger to wipe it off, but I surged forward, met her lips and crushed against her so my blood was painted on her face. If she was surprised by my actions, her appeasing kiss didn't betray it. She allowed my touch, then reciprocated until I broke away and stood up.

"This is all we're worth, huh?" I asked, not looking at either, addressing both. "Blood and sex, and some entertainment on the side. Fuck you. Both of you." I stepped around them, but Eric reached out and took hold of my ankle. It wasn't any use to try and unlatch him, like one would a toddler who had commandeered a leg in hopes to keep you there, with them; no, if he wanted to keep me, he would. I turned back, scowling.

"I have to change," I said, motioning to the blood on my shirt.

"I'll come with you," Eric said, releasing my leg to stand up. I didn't say a word, didn't look back, just went to my car and waited for him to join me. As soon as the door shut behind his long body, I was gone, speeding down the main road that would take us back to the house. Hopefully some of my dresses wouldn't be too wrinkled.

"You're speeding," Eric piped up. So I was; the speed limit was 50, I was going well over eighty.

"Don't worry," I kept my voice blank. "You won't die if we crash. Unless the car catches alight."

"Why are you so incensed?" In a way, I was glad he wanted to get into this while I drove; this way, I wouldn't have to look at him.

"I told you that I wasn't yours; that I hated to be controlled. So you glamoured me, took my body from me too." I took a breath, remembered that the cycle was important, that I had to keep going; in, out, repeat. After checking the rearview mirror and seeing no one, I pulled the car over.

"The only way," I began, looking him in the eye so he would at least conceptualize taking me seriously, "For me to work for you is if you stop trying to make me yours. You—you can't take my mind away from me."

"Well, you did fight your hardest," He replied, not blinking, or breathing, concentrating only on me.

"Yeah, and my hardest is no match for you."

"I could change that." His voice was serious, but he couldn't mean…

"You're asking me if I—"

"Want to be a vampire, yes." He lowered his eyebrows. "You're smart, and strong. Why not?"

"Because I like this—" I took his large, almost rough hand and placed it over my chest, on my sternum. He looked devious for a moment, but I jockeyed the placement of his fingers so he was nowhere near my breasts. I went silent, and felt the beat of my heart.

"It's a ticking, Elliot," he returned, leaving his hand on me after I'd dropped mine; "It's a count-down of your life, one beat at a time."

"So you're saying you would turn me if I said yes."

"Yes." It was simple, honest, and I felt like he was telling the truth.

"Why do you want to be my—what's the term? Maker?" Eric's mouth was already open, ready to reply, but he paused for a split second as the unfamiliar word slid into the air between us.

"So you can stop resenting vampires having what you want so badly."

My mouth fell open; I'd toyed with the idea of being a vampire once or twice, but never seriously. "What are you talking about?"

"You want power, you want control—"

"I do not," I started, but the look in his eyes was enough to make me fall silent.

"Over yourself. But you're a woman, and you know that physically, people will overpower you. And sometimes life is beyond control."

"And that would change by becoming a vampire? You still have sheriffs and monarchies, and just as many laws and rules. You just happen to hold yourselves higher than humans."

"The evidence speaks for itself." He slung his arm around my neck so there wasn't any space between us, especially in limited space of the car. He tilted the my seat back and pressed his ear to my chest. "Right now, I can hear the blood moving in your veins. If I bite you now and don't let go, you die. I could break everything in your body, tear you apart in a second, and still, you fight me, the one predator you can't kill."

"You're forgetting something," I slid my fingers down through his hair, prying him off of me. "You have weaknesses, bigger than ours. The sun. Stakes. Fire. We can adapt, use weapons, stay up for days. No one's dominant here; we're just on different playing grounds."

"Remember the option." Eric said, looking forward once more, out into the darkness.

"The day you come across me bleeding out on a sidewalk, then sure, do what you have to," I mumbled to myself, sarcasm cutting into each word like a knife, carving out the bitterness and anger in my voice. Without looking back at him, I brought the car back onto the road and headed toward Eric's house.

When we arrived, we separated, silently, going into our specific rooms without another word to each other.

Three hours later, I walked into the main room, dressed and ready to go. It had only taken me an hour to shower, change and put makeup on, but after this afternoon, I had no qualms about being passive aggressive, no matter how badly it made me look. I'd been treated like trash; raise your hand, tell me your favorite part of a night of beauty and sex that had been filled with invisible ulterior motives.

Whatever we had experienced together that night was a fraud, but something about his radical personality changed didn't quite click; I tried to figure out what, but it was like a popcorn kernel stuck in my teeth: a constant bother, just out of reach. Something had been bothering Eric when we met—he'd acknowledged it, or at least my ability to read him. He'd taken me, made me work for him—but was a different man now, cold, aloof. So why was I so important? Was I a threat to him somehow?

My thoughts just frustrated me; whatever Eric was feeling was beyond me, now.

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugged lightly on the ends and walked around the foyer, looking for him, though he wasn't in sight.

"Eric!" I called, but all I got was the reverb of my own voice.

"Fine," I muttered, taking my keys from my purse. I'd go back to Fangtasia, alone. I slipped off my heels when I got into the car—standard is a nightmare to drive whilst wearing stilettos.

***

The back door of Fangtasia wasn't locked, but I reminded myself to tell Eric I'd need a key. I went in, clicking loudly in my heels, and ran into Pam, who'd changed into a very low-cut, slinky black dress.

"Playing Morticia this evening?" I asked, jokingly. She gave me a smirk that contained a little fang, and came closer.

"That was quite a performance this afternoon." Her eyes were on my mouth.

"I do what I can," I said, regaining every ounce of anger than had been diluted to a dull simmer by the time I'd left the house.

"I'd be careful," She advised, looking serious. "If you want to last, you might try compromising.

"I will when he does," I replied, and she smiled, taking a lock of my hair between her fingers, reminiscent of that first night. I'd straightened it, so it fell past my mid-back. "Such a pretty lost cause." She shook her head, and I slid past her, feeling her eyes on my back for the duration of my walk to the front.

The bar wasn't crowded. There were maybe twenty people there, college-aged kids who laughed too long, spoke too loudly; they thought they were brave for coming here, for daring to come close to the big, bad vampires. Their tacky show didn't improve my mood; I was still genuinely angry over the events of the afternoon, and Pam had just stoked the embers. The waves of anger rolled off me as I sat at the bar and ordered a drink; I smiled at the bartender with a clenched jaw before handing him a twenty and pounding down two shots of tequila. More people came in, the majority undead this time. Vampires could smell anger, I guess, because I'd acquired a three foot bubble of space on either side where neither man nor vampire dared to venture, though the latter were looking at me curiously. I was on my second gin and tonic when an icy hand touched my back; I turned to ask what the hell the owner of said limb thought they were doing, and turned straight into Pam.

"Wanna calm down?" She asked, catching me as I overturned in surprise. And maybe due to the effects of a little too much alcohol. "You're scaring the guests."

"Am I?" She just looked at me with a deadpan expression; a giggle escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"Eric wants to see you," She said, putting her hand on my back and pointing to the VIP section. He was looking down at me, expectant.

Great.

*(Stoppen Sie bette=please stop)