Summary: Through an unfortunate turn of events, Max falls into the hands of a man who is not only evil in every sense of the word but hell bent on burning down the world if it meant keeping her safe. But all Max wants to do is get away from him. But will that change?

Disclaimers: I don't own Maximum Ride and this story in no way reflects the views of fanfiction or my religion and I'm not trying to offend anyone.

Thanks for the review you guys! Really means a lot, and I just hope I can keep up whatever you guys like about my story. I'll try and update as often as possible, I promise.

I also apologize in advance because Fang might lose some of his fluffy cuteness in this chapter. But what did you expect? He's evil.

_Dark and Light_

It was after Max drifted in and out of sleep several times before she realized she was in a stranger's bed. Shit, Max thought disgusted with herself. Shit. But no, nothing could have happened – Max couldn't possibly have…done that because she was still dressed from what she wore the other night, even her sneakers. Nothing had happened, thank God.

Sitting up more, Max tried to guess whose bedroom she was in. The space, painted a deep red, was bare of except the essential furnishings; bed, nightstands, desk. There were no pictures or books to give an idea of whose room it was.

Pushing away the heavy comforter and the black dots that brushed past Max's eyelids, she realized that her skin felt tight with each movement, where the drops of metallic from last night had dried.

Max paused, remembering. Certain properties, he'd said. What the hell kind of "certain properties" did this stuff have if she could hear colors after just a few drops? Max thought dazed, but then. Fang.

This was his room, Max realized. Was it possible she was still at DuMort? Had she passed out on him and, not knowing where to take her, he'd left her to sleep in hotel suite? It was possible. But where was he now?

Reaching the sliding glass door which lead to the balcony overlooking the city, Max stared. She had only seen Las Vegas at night briefly, where it was all lit up, but…how could night and day make such a difference to the point it didn't even look like it was from the same country?

The answer was simple. It couldn't.

She was still in DuMort, Max was sure of it. But she wasn't in the same city. But how could that be? This was all wrong. Not until Max shifted through the hazy memories from last night of Fang and the elevator, did it click. "You don't have a choice," he'd said. "You're mine," he'd said.

Had he…kidnapped her? Yes. There was no other excuse for his behavior but… why? Why would he do this? What could he possibly…Max didn't finish that thought. She couldn't believe this shit. Why did the crappy stuff always happen to her?

See, mom, that's the kind of shit that happens when you make me go bond with Jeb! Max would say when she got out of this mess. And she would get out of this; it should be easy. Fang must have taken her phone, but Max had an idea. She was alone. No one was stopping her. She just had to get down to the lobby, call Jeb, and alert the police.

Only it wasn't quite that simple.

After easing open one of the three doors – the other two had been a bathroom and walk in closet – Max froze, realizing her abductor had actually posted guards outside her door. Luckily, this one – dressed in an oversized black trench coat with a pinched rat like face - was slumped against the golden wallpaper, half asleep.

What kind of seventeen year old has henchmen? She couldn't help but wonder as she slipped past him making her way to the elevator. The lobby was swarmed with short men, similar in a rodent-like appearance and to the snoozing guard. What kind of seventeen year old has an army of henchmen?

She'd find out later. Right now her priority was slipping past all of them without getting caught…she'd have to contact Jeb somewhere other than the lobby. There was no way Fang had an entire hotel at his disposal, but it was just as unlikely the lady at the front desk was on Max's side.

First things first, Max would have to make it out of the lobby. Maybe she'd get lucky and run into a pair of cops parked in the streets. Her dad must have alerted the authorities by now; mom must have been contacted and sick with worry.

DuMort's lobby was as elegant looking as ever, with cream pillars rising up from marble floors to meet a handcrafted painting of cherubs on the ceiling. Only…the cupids looked different. Their skin was almost gray, with slitted eyes, and the wings looked like those of…well, bats.

As one of the rat looking body guards passed Max's hiding spot with a packed luggage cart, she ducked behind it and followed its trail, getting off and shuffling her body so it couldn't be seen behind the pillar. Okay. I run for the door in three…two...o-

"Hey, is she awake yet?" A voice croaked, from the other side of the pillar with an oddly upstate East accent. A second voice answered no, she wasn't. They had to be talking about her. Max pressed her spine to the pillar, trying to hear better.

"She's been passed out for two days already. I doubt she'll ever wake up."

Two days! How was that possible? It felt like only hours. This was probably better for her, Max knew, everyone had to be looking for her, it had to be all over the news. But it was still concerning.

"Hey, Mickey, what do you think 'e wants with her?"

"Who? The boss?" Mickey asked.

"No! The queen o' England! Of course I mean the boss, stupid!"

Mickey paused. "Oh. Dunno. Maybe e's lookin' for a girl."

"Nah. She's probably just his latest whore."

The Mickey voice snickered, while Max was frozen. "Yeah. Just a plaything. A pretty one, too. I tell ya, if I ever got her alone, I'd…"

Knowing Max never would have made it to the door with the two men standing right there, Max was forced to listen to their conversation, Goosebumps ripping over her skin in disgust. When Max contacted the police, she would make sure they also did an investigation on this Mickey guy to see if he was a pedophile. Jesus.

Being sixteen is so great, Max thought dryly. Like really. What a great year this is turning out to be.

When the conversation died, and the perverts were gone, Max counted to three again, and burst through the revolving door. She heard shouts of "Hey!" behind her, but she didn't look back. She charged through a business people, knocking a man over but not stopping to apologize. She wasn't sure if she was being chased, but she wasn't slowing down to find out. She had to put more distance in between her and the hotel.

Skyscrapers plunged from out of the ground from every corner, and in spaces in between cars lined up in continuous strips. Even though traffic was the least of Max's worries, she glanced over to see what the problem was. And blinked in surprise. That was the worst car accident she'd ever seen.

Ten cars, at least, were all piled up into a pyramid the middle of the intersection. You couldn't tell where one car ended and the next began, more surprising than that though was there were no police, no ambulances. The traffic continued to honk impatiently, like this was something that happened every day, and buzzards of people J-Walked through the streets, looking bored.

What the hell kind of city was this? Slowing her run to a walk after two more blocks, Max paused to catch her breath. There was a man, in a gray hoodie and slumped against the back of a brick restaurant, pausing for a smoke.

Max frowned. This city was huge; it could take hours to find the police station. Searching block after block until the city was dark wasn't a very tempting proposition. "Um, excuse me, sir?" She said to the man.

He raised his bent head, blowing a puff of smoke her way and staring at her.

Max coughed. "I believe I've been kidnapped. I'm far from home and I was wondering if you could show me the way to the police station?"

He looked her up and down, before showing a mostly toothless smile. "Sure."

Max smiled uneasily, following him down the sidewalk as they headed south, where less people were milling about. The buildings got smaller, the dark alley's in between them growing. Mom used to say it was gentlemanly, walking close to the rode with the lady furthest from it, because dirt wouldn't splash onto her. Max supposed that's what this man was doing now, until they walked past the space between buildings and he shoved her inside.

"Hey!" Max shouted, trying to scramble to her feet. But the toothless man kicked her in the stomach, hard.

"Hey, boys!" He shouted into the space somewhere behind Max. "I got something."

Turning to see who he could possibly be speaking to, Max saw ten or so boys, looking no older than twenty, all pausing in there drinking to watch her.

One of them was headed straight toward her. He snatched her by her hair before she could kick him away, and dragged her with him, deeper into the alley. He shoved her away, up against the filthy brick wall, but his hands were back in a second, this time on her neck. "Hey, pretty thing, what's your name?"

Max wheezed, her ribs sore. I can't answer if I can't breathe, asshole.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust - You're not too pretty to look at either, buddy. – And pressed her into the cold ground. Max tried pushing him away, and he frowned before laughing when he discovered he could easily overpower her by pinning her wrists.

Then Max kicked him. Really hard. In a really sensitive place. She felt triumphant for minute, when he howled like a child. But then her head snapped back with the force of the blow he gave her. Max tried to get up again, but the other guys were on her in seconds, holding down her arms andshoulders and her legs.

The boy Max had kneed, seemed to recover. He hit her across the face. Then again. One more time when Max tried to spit on him. The two other boys that were standing took turns hitting her for good measure. "Stop!" Max yelled, trying not to wince. It hurt to breathe.

"Knock her unconscious," One of the boys holding her down said. "She's gonna fight otherwise."

What the hell were they going to do to her? Max struggled with more force, but it became increasingly hard. Especially since the boy who'd just spoken gripped her hair and slammed it down into the earth and the world seemed to be getting darker, her eyes heavier.

The boy on top of her, was trying to take off her jacket. "Stop it." Max rasped, but she couldn't fight off the darkness anymore. Her eyes were closing, when she saw Fang.

He was standing at the opening of the alley, watching the scene before him, his eyes murderous and dark. Max must have been hallucinating, because she could have sworn right before her eyes closed, she saw his hands blazing. Fire licked up his leather jacket as he approached them, the boys trying to take Max completely unsuspecting as he approached them.

Max passed out.

_X_

Max had seen a cartoon once, where a talking coyote was trying to catch a different animal with some insane elaborate machine that he'd designed himself. But it never worked, and then he'd say, "Back to the old drawing board," with this crazy hopeless look in his eye that was supposed to be funny, and then he'd try again.

Now Max knew how the coyote felt. Because when she woke up, on the same king-sized bed she had that morning, with her wrists tied to the bedpost behind her head, for a wild second she felt like she should just give up. She'd tried to escape once now and it had almost gotten her killed, or worse.

It hadn't been worth it, obviously, because she was now stuck in the same position she had that morning. Except now she was hurt, to the point where it was painful to breathe, and she was tied. Literally.

"Fuck," Max slammed her head down against the bed, hopelessly, as if that could solve her problems.

"Glad to see you're awake." The voice was eerie and instantly familiar. Max jumped in surprise, and the tight grip on her wrist dug painfully into her skin, restraining her.

Fang was staring at the foot of the bed, watching Max intently. He no longer looked dangerously flirty and mysterious. His jaw was set so that if looked if he tried to unclench it, it would fall off and his eyes held an anger than was trying not to be seen. Max saw it anyway.

"What do you want?" Max raised her chin, not wanting to feel intimidated by his height. "Why am I here?"

Fang barked a laugh. "Isn't it obvious?"

Max refused to dignify that with a response. He was laughing at her, and she was tired of it. She already felt like an idiot. She should have stayed away from him. She knew that he was trouble, that he was dangerous. Fat lot of good regrets did her now though. She needed to focus.

Maybe he wanted to use Max as a ransom? It made sense. Her family wasn't filthy rich or anything, but they were well off. Besides...he certainly didn't look like one of those rapists from those specials on E! network, which was the only other explanation as to why he would kidnap her.

Not until he was next to her, on her left side, did she realize he had moved. She was glaring at him ferociously, but he paid her no mind, not even as his finger ran down her neck and over her torso until it reached the hem of her shirt. Max tried to kick at him with her untied legs when he pulled it up, revealing her battered and bruised stomach, but he held her feet with his other hand.

The hand that had tugged up Max's shirt was now running his fingers over her bruises. It was hard for Max to tell from this angle, but it looked like the bruise painted over her entire stomach; a hideous painting of green, yellow, and purple.

His thumb was stroking one of her ribs. "Get off!" Max said gruffly, struggling against the ropes and his hands. He glanced at her, his eyes holding a wicked gleam. And before Max could tell him to stop whatever he was about to do, he was doing it.

His hand cobwebbed over her entire stomach, his thumb and pinky both touching opposite sides of her ribs. Then he pressed down, digging into the swollen flesh until Max had no choice but to cry out. Even when she did, he didn't stop. He let her writhe under his grip, his other hand preventing her from bringing her legs up into a protective ball.

"Stop!" Max cried finally, and to her surprise, he did.

The pain was still intense, so much that it was hard to breathe, but it was less.

Fang had shoved his hand in his pockets, looking nonchalant even as he towered over the wheezing girl through slitted eyes. "You have two broken ribs and a few major cuts and bruises. Nothing to get so worked up about."

He's fucking crazy.

"Why did you kidnap me? Why am I here? Where even are we? "Max had more questions, oh she had plenty, but speaking hurt too much

"That's nothing you need to worry about. And as for your first question, you're here because I want you to be."

"That's the shittiest reason in the world," Max told him, feeling dizzy. Had he drugged her?

"And that was the shittiest escape attempt I've ever seen. Speaking of which…" Fang reached for her neck, cutting her air supply. "Don't you dare ever try to run away again. You're not getting away from me, understand?"

Max tried to rasp out a Go to hell even though – duh – she couldn't breathe. Stars started to dance over her eyes. Fang was obviously not impressed, seeing as the hand that wasn't at Max's neck then plummeted down onto her ribs.

Max tried – and failed – releasing the pain from her body in the form of some sort of noise, but only choking sounds came out.

"Do you understand?" he screamed.

No. Max wanted to say. No, I don't understand. I don't' understand why you're doing this to me. You can't control me, you can't keep me here. You just can't. No. No. No. But instead, "Yes."

He grinned sadistically. "Good."

Why are you doing this? Was the question on Max's mind, but it was too pathetic a question. Even for her.

For an insane moment, Max thought she saw Fang's eyes soften in sympathy. But she was wrong.

"There are clothes in the closet for you. If you're hungry, I'll bring you food. You're aloud anywhere on this floor, but the everywhere in the hotel is off limits." He wasn't even looking at her now, as her temper flared. He was treating her like a pet. As if hearing these thoughts, he grinned. And to spite her, he continued. "When you start to behave yourself I'll untie you."

Max was beyond furious, her face turning red in anger. "Don't talk to me like that."

Fang scoffed. He could talk to her however he liked. "Like what?"

"Like I'm a freaking animal!"

Fang leaned in close to her, knowing how it set her on edge. "If you don't like it, maybe you should quit acting like one."

Max tried to kick at him, but he leaned back, out of reach. He laughed at her.

She'd had quite enough of that. He had turned his back on her, heading for the door, when Max screamed. "You can't keep me here!"

Fang leaned against the door frame. "Oh, yes, Max. I really can."

_X_

And Fang would keep her here. He'd waited a decade and a half for this girl. And though time moved quickly in the Underworld –two days here, could be two months on mortal Earth – it had seemed like a torturous eternity.

He'd watched her grow from hell. Whenever the baby girl he'd agreed to take as payment crossed his mind – which had been surprisingly often – he'd go and watch her, through the mirror, and he'd always be surprised when he saw she wasn't a baby anymore.

Sometimes he'd even send her things. Never anything much – sometimes he'd have a note appear in her desk in grade school and if he remembered her birthday, he'd send a card, signing it as her great uncle.

And then he'd realize that what he was doing was disgusting – him having a school boy crush on some mortal girl. It was repulsive.

It had crossed his mind many times that he should just leave the girl alone; that he should not collect the dept. Jeb owed him. Let the girl grow old amongst the humans like she was supposed to. It was what she deserved.

But she also deserved better than a father who did not love her and did not want to. Jeb had not wanted her when Valencia was dying, and even now – though he told himself otherwise – Fang knew he still didn't want a daughter. Oh, sure Jeb felt shame, for being such a disgusting excuse for a human being, and told himself it was caring. But it was not.

Besides…there was a reason Fang had chosen to take her on her sixteenth birthday. It was because she might not have made it to her seventeenth otherwise.

So Fang would collect the girl, because he was punishing Jeb, because Fang refused to not take payment, and because he was protecting her.

Besides, Max was fascinating.

He did not think he had ever seen a human behave the way she did – she called things how she saw them. Her opinion of people were often as blunt as, "You're my friend." And "You're not." She labeled things as good and bad. Dark and light. She treated others how they deserved.

Which is why, Fang knew, with the way she was treating him now, that he deserved it.

_X_

Booooom. I like that ending. Okay, so Fang was a jerkface. Yes. But I tried to redeem him, a little, with his POV toward the end. Watcha think? Don't hate him too soon okay? I'll try and fix it!

Also, if you guys have any requests that you want to see happen, like ways for Max to slowly but surely come around to Fang, lemme know! I'll try and make it happen!

REVIEW PLEASE.