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Isobel's POV

His eye glowed in the brilliant kitchen ceiling lights.

"That's not how you welcome guests, Isobel." He sneered, his mouth dripped crimson, my mum's blood, on the clean white floor tiles.

"Sorry if I don't offer you my wrist, I didn't expect a blood drinker for dinner." I snarled, my heart pounding, my hands trembling. It sounded ridiculous to say, but, let's face the facts: he has God damn fangs, a bloody mouth, and glowing eyes and a predatorily gleam that shone in his red eyes.

"It doesn't matter; your mother offered her neck as a starter. I hope you're going to serve me the main course." His voice is like velvet, soft and smooth, his brows raise in expectancy, his lips curving smugly.

I gulped, loudly. "Oh my God. Y-you're a v-vampire." The word felt my lips, it felt alien and wrong. My blood ran cold, shudders rippled through me, I felt as if someone threw a bucket of ice cold water down my back.

The male approached me; his movements were liquid and smooth. I stepped back, feeling stupidly conscious in my pink pyjamas. Mum's eyes watched us, she looked unfocused, glassy eyed and hypnotized. He's done some vampire voodoo on her. He smiled; it's all toothy, including his large, razor sharp "F-fangs." I whispered, mostly to myself. The male laughed, his eyes watched me with uncanny sharpness, his hands reached out greedily for me.

"I prefer virgin blood, it's pure." He teased, I dodged his hands.

"Mum!" I squealed, running towards the knife holder. My hands curl around a handle, he lunged for me. I thrashed it forwards, purely out of self defense.

"Ow." he scolded me like a piddling pet. He looked down at his torso, his crispy while shirt began staining crimson, and then stopped. Super healing. Uh-oh. His pale hand plucked the knife from his torso, as if it was a pesky hair. "You stabbed me." He glared; his face turned from teasing to anger and annoyance.

I staggered back in horror, screaming for help as I ran towards my mother. "Mum, wake up!" I slapped her cheek with force. She didn't move, not even a flinch. I shook her, fiercely "Mum, what are you doing?" Her eyes were focused above my head, her body rode with the jerks I gave her, she was like a rubber mannequin.

"She's doing as I tell her to." His voice sends chills down my spine, its lush and rich with seduction and hunger. Something bone crushingly hard clasped my wrist, twirled me disturbingly fast and pinned me to the American refrigerator by my throat. I yelped, his hand felt cold and strong against my windpipe, I panted harder, labouring my breath. His eyes were now a deep brown, this made him look a lot more human than before, but not human enough for me to fall for his charade. He's not human.

"Isobel Knight. Do you know what I am?" He asked, reasonably. He looked middle aged, his face stiff with irritation and impatience: his dark hair curled, his face had a few wrinkles, but he looked roughly 46 years old, maybe younger.

I shook my head, out of habit, and feel the metal, close to my head give in with a harsh whine. "Liar."

I nodded, feverishly fast. I closed my eyes, images of his crimson eyes and sharp…canines glistened in the ceiling lights, slashed through my rationality. "You're a vampire" I blurted out, fearfully.

His hands stroked my cheek; he tilted my chin, and ordered me to open my eyes. I obliged, too frightened to disobey. "You're younger than I expected. Your mother didn't say you were young. Nevertheless, you will be mine, Isobel." he spoke apathetically.

I cried, it's shameful, but inevitable. "Are you going to kill us?" I asked, "Because if you are, can you make it quick, and kill my mum first?" the tears welled up, over spilling onto his choking hand around my throat. His fingers loosened around my neck, his eyes darkened.

"Why are you volunteering her first?" He asked, releasing me.

I remained pinned to the fridge door, my muscles wouldn't move, panting as my heart thumped painfully hard in my chest. "I don't want her to see me die." I whispered, looking at my mum with a yearning look. I don't want her to die, I don't want to die.

"Isobel." He snapped, ordering my attention. I turned to stare, the tears blurred my vision. "Morganville has rules. If you don't sign to a Protector, you will be fed on by the others. I am here to inspect the Knight family, you will be owned by a vampire, and as selfish creatures we want the best."

I cried, he's a monster, speaking as if it's an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is in Morganville. Shit, I should ask for a transfer, or Mum should at least get a raise. "The Protecting vampire will own you: body and mind, Isobel. Same goes for your mother. But, remember these Protections aren't reliable. There are always breakable." He drills the idea into my head.

"What if I don't have Protection, what happens to us?" I asked, feebly.

He smiled a wicked evil thing. "Once you turn eighteen, you can be fed upon, just as your mother can, now. She is unprotected, she is liable for feeding on, and, her death can not be taken to trial. This is your warning. Not many get forewarnings, Isobel. Take my advice. Sign for Protection, I'd hate to see you or your mother get hurt."

My stomach churned as he glided towards me, kissing my forehead gingerly, I could feel his nostrils drag in my skin scent of my forehead. He whispered: "Hmm, you smell so…pure. That attracts a lot of hungry vampires, Isobel." before disappearing like a ghost.

I collapsed against the counter, panting hard. I really should have checked the background of this place. No wonder the tourists avoid this place like lepers, it's Hotel California: you can check in but never check out.

"Ow!" my mum yelped in shock. I guess the slap hurt, then.

I turned to her, teary and afraid. "Issie, love, what's the matter?" she tilted my head "And what happened to your eye?" she squawked. I pulled her hands from my face.

"Mum, please listen to me-"

"Honey, is someone bullying you?" she interrupted me

"No, Mum listen-"

"Issie, do I have to call the school and find out myself?" she interrupted me again, scolding me as if I was to blame.

I cried out, she was starting to really piss me off. "No, Mum. There's-"

"Just spit it out already!" she butts in again.

"Mum, we need to leave Morganville." I blurted.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion "Why?"

I laughed, humourlessly and breathlessly "Where do I begin?"