This was no good, simply no good.

Ungolim drummed his fingers together nervously, gazing up at the statue of Lady Luck in Bravil. Why was Mother quiet? Why did she not share her secrets with him?

It had been like this for many months. Every now and then, the Listener would hear the faintest whisper – usually a name, and if he was lucky, a location. Even then, recruitment was much slower than it ever had been. Lachance was the last sent to retrieve a new member, and oh boy had Uvani thrown a fit over that. Ungolim sent him to Leyawiin, despite Uvani's presence as Speaker there, and he hadn't received a minute of peace and quiet since. And then he was accused of favoring the Cheydinhal Speaker! How preposterous.

The Night Mother had been specific, though. Send Lucien Lachance. When her words were so few, how could Ungolim ignore it?

He began to pace in front of the statue, running his fingers over the stone reverently. In his mind he pleaded, begged, and swore his undying loyalty and commitment, but the Night Mother said nothing. She never did.

Zarissis hummed happily to herself as she entered the Sanctuary once more. Her contract went splendidly. No one suspected a thing and she even got a few magic spells out of it.

It was like a whole new world had been opened before her. She knew that as a Breton she was more attuned to magic than most of the other human races, but never had she suspected it would be as addicting as it was. Every time she stopped for a rest along the road, Zarissis concentrated on summoning fire and ice, feeling the buzz of magicka between her fingers. It wasn't much, but with practice she could be better.

There was the occasional chorus of girlish laughter from the dining room, and Zarissis felt a pang of regret that she hadn't spent as much time with her Sisters as she ought to have. She glanced down the hall where she knew Vicente was waiting for her.

He had lived for three hundred years; she was certain a little more waiting wouldn't hurt him. Slinging her satchel into an arm chair, she entered the dining hall where the gaggle of women were hovered over pancakes.

As soon as Antoinetta saw her walk in, she shrieked and dived from her seat, pulling Zarissis by the arm. The red-head found herself plopped into a chair and inserted into the middle of a conversation about beheading.

"While Gogron is partial to removing their heads, I think an arrow in the throat is just as sufficient," Tel announced as she inspected her nails. It seemed that she didn't approve of his methods, although she didn't say as much. "Too messy, you know?"

"I gotcha, girl," Antoinetta laughed, and stuffed a bite of pancake in her mouth, trying to speak around it. "I jus' prefer foo sfab 'hem." A little bit of syrup dribbled down her chin and Antoinetta was quick to wipe it with her finger before inserting it between her lips.

Ocheeva sighed, her disappointment seemingly directed at Antoinetta's messy eating habits, although she kept her opinions to herself and instead added another layer of pancakes to her plate. Antoinetta finally managed to swallow her mouthful of breakfast and launched into a detailed story about some wealthy man she was assigned to kill, describing the man's luxury bathtub and how he met his end in a puddle of blood and water.

It gave Zarissis a moment to contemplate her own methods of assassination. So far she'd only done two official contracts, plus her initiation kill. Rufio was stabbed in the chest, Captain Tussaud met his end through an open throat, and her most recent kill had been staged as an accident. Looking back on her experience, she couldn't quite pinpoint what she preferred the most. It did take her a while to warm up to the idea of killing, but that was the nature of her job – and the price she paid for freedom. All in all it wasn't so bad, and she did feel some fulfillment watching the life drain from someone's eyes.

I'm becoming a proper psychopath, she mused happily, taking the time to help herself to the remainder of breakfast. Antoinetta made a show of stealing a bite from her plate, to which Zarissis responded by sticking her tongue out, warranting a happy giggle in response.

It wasn't so bad having a family, honestly. It was certainly not what she expected from joining an assassin's guild, but the presence of her sisters helped fill the hole in her heart that was created when she ran away from home. She missed her family dearly, but even the love of her mother and father wasn't worth the loss of her freedom and a life of boredom. She just hoped they'd forgive her one day.

They likely think me dead. The thought was unbidden and she quickly shoved it away, stuffing her mouth before dismissing herself from the table. That was definitely not a place she wanted to go to in her mind; there was only guilt and a distant feeling of loneliness to follow.

Her feet took her to a familiar room at the end of the hall. Zarissis was surprised to see the door cracked open, light spilling out of the threshold. The head of the vampire within jerked up at her approach.

"Songbird," Vicente purred as she entered, his gaunt face lighting up at the sight of her. He quickly set his book back on the table, standing to greet her. She felt her own mouth contort into a smile at his warm greeting, and in a blink of an eye he was before her, pulling her into his embrace.

Zarissis lingered in his hold for a few moments, inhaling the sharp scent of the soap that clung to his skin. As he pulled away he ran a hand over her head, fingers brushing against the flyaway orange hairs that haloed around her face.

"I'm glad to see you back and in high spirits, my dear. I have heard the news about Baenlin. Excellent work." The smile that graced his lips as infectious, and she soon found herself beaming at him in return. She wondered briefly if it should concern her how attached she felt to him already or her desire to please him and made him proud. It was a feeling she'd not experienced since her youth, during the hunting trips with her father. Somehow, Vicente managed to make her feel like a girl again, although not in an unpleasant way.

"I missed you," she admitted, glancing to her feet in the process. He'd been on her mind each night during her trip, replaying their most recent interactions in her head over and over. It was shocking how quickly they'd been thrown together and already she found herself daydreaming about his lips on her neck, hands groping in places they shouldn't be. It was sinful, some would say…but she wouldn't have it any other way.

His hand cupped her chin, pulling her eyes up to his. "I missed you too, sweetling." Although his grip was firm, his touch was surprisingly gentle all the same. After a moment his hand fell to her shoulder and another smile adorned his face.

"I owe you a reward, don't I?" Zarissis couldn't help but think that the expression he wore was somewhat more mischievous than she was used to. Had her mind not turned to mush at his touch, she may have recognized the loss of professionalism that Vicente normally wore.

She was shocked out of her thoughts when Vicente sat down and promptly pulled her into his lap, legs straddling his waist. This was far more intimately close than she'd ever been to him and her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of red, the color stark against her normally pale skin. Vicente merely lifted a hand and stroked over the warm flesh on her face, feeling the blood rush beneath his fingers.

"Is this what you call a reward?" Zarissis's voice broke as she whispered her joke, only to have her voice die in her throat as Vicente's hand reached behind her and balled in her hair, pulling her head backwards in a sharp motion. Her fingers clutched his arms as a hiss of pain escaped her lips, only to end in a delightful gasp when Vicente's lips pressed against her throat. He left gentle bites in his wake, delicate bruises forming beneath the onslaught of his teeth. She couldn't help but quiver in his grasp.

This was unlike anything she'd ever conceived. His roughness was surprisingly arousing, and she squirmed in his arms as heat overcame her. Anything, she realized, she'd do anything to relieve the agonizing pressure that was building inside her.

Vicente released her hair and tilted her head back up, assaulting her lips with his own. She was overwhelmed with blinding arousal as his tongue invaded her mouth, hand gripping the back of her neck almost painfully. She was dimly aware of his faint trembling; hand shaking as he reached forward to caress her face.

Reality hit her again as the deafening sound of tearing leather filled the room, and she looked down to watch as Vicente pried her armor apart with inhuman strength, leaving mere rags hanging from her shoulders. Her chest was bare to the chill of the room now, modesty unveiled before the vampire who she now knew as her lover. He cradled her breast in his hand, bringing cool lips against her nipple.

Zarissis cried out in pleasure, leaning back to rest her hands on the table behind her. Her back arched as he continued his ministrations, tongue deftly swirling around each breast with the familiarity of an experienced lover. He brought his fingernails down on her sides, angry red scores of scratches adorning her pale flesh. It burned, and Zarissis bit down on her lip as tears pricked in her eyes…yet at the same time it filled her with the same longing, pleasure intensified as she watched Vicente press his lips to the lacerations, tongue hungrily lapping up the beads of blood that began to form.

A deep, inhuman growl escaped his lips and he threw her onto the table, shoving candles and papers alike to the floor to make room for the temptress whom he held in his lap. His own arousal pressed painfully against his pants, and it took everything he had not to seize her then and there. Instead he waved his hand toward the door, the telekinesis spell slamming it shut.

Alone, they were finally alone. He had put off his own instincts and needs for so long; he could not bear to go another agonizing night without her warmth. He needed her, needed to consume her, needed to feel her breath on his skin and her cries of pleasure in his ears. The vampire demanded to be sated and fed, and Vicente could no longer fight it.

Zarissis watched with wide eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt, casting the material to the side. She had seen him shirtless, of course, but last time she'd been so bashful. This time, however, she allowed her eyes to linger uninhibited, admiring the man who stood before her.

He was thin, that much was true, but where Zarissis may have expected to see ribs she was a little more surprised to see rippling muscles. He was flawless in her eyes, and she cast her gaze downward to follow the dark trail of hair, only blushing and looking away when she noticed his pants.

Her embarrassment and pure innocence was adorable. Vicente watched her face redden at the sight of his arousal, grinning as he relished her naivety.

"Look at me," he commanded, and Zarissis tore her gaze away from the spot on the door. Crimson eyes met green, and Vicente carefully pulled himself over top of her, table creaking beneath his added weight.

She began to understand how prey felt before the attack of a hunter. Vicente's eyes were intense and heated as he loomed over her, the red of his irises only a thin ring around his dialated pupils. With incredible purposefulness, he lifted her hand and pressed it against his erection, fingers scraping against the taut fabric. She inhaled sharply as he shuddered from her touch, and of her own free will she carefully pulled the drawstrings of his pants.

Need clouded her mind, and she tried to grasp the reality in front of her. He was much larger than she would have expected, but this was the first time she held a man in such a way. She leaned upward and pressed kisses to his neck, sucking the skin there as she freed him from his constraining clothes. Vicente trembled in her arms while she left her own bruises on his skin, hungrily biting his flesh with more force than he had given to her.

Her roughness nearly sent him beyond the point of no return, his mind teetering over the line between control and the monster that threatened to spill forth. At last he pushed her down, removing her treacherous mouth from his neck.

"Why is it that you're still clothed?" His voice was meant to simply be a teasing whisper, but instead a husky growl passed his lips. Zarissis gazed at him beneath heavy lids, her chest heaving as she panted beneath him. By Sithis, she was beautiful; Vicente could only hover above her in wonder as his eyes traced the mounds of her breasts, memorizing the pattern of the clusters of freckles over her chest and the rosy peaks of her nipples.

He finally reached down and began to pull the last of her leathers over her hips with agonizing slowness. She whimpered at his touch, watching as he slung her boots and armor to the floor. She was naked before him, aside from her smallclothes. Another blush crept over her face as his eyes raked over her, finally resting on the moist spot of arousal between her legs.

Vicente dragged his fingers over her ankle and through the inside of her thigh, making her squirm at the chill of his touch. His eyes settled on her face as he finally gave her what she'd been wishing for the entire time.

He pressed his palm to her core, massaging his fingers over her smallclothes. Vicente couldn't help the victorious grin that broke over his face when she screamed out, arching into his touch. She was soaking through her clothes at the barest stroke, body quivering as his fingers lingered over the bud of pleasure. In one swift motion he disposed of her remaining underthings.

The vampire in his mind purred at the sight of her, disheveled hair haloed around her head as she lay on the table, her legs spread around his hips with her sex bare to him. He gave her an amorous smile as he pressed a finger inside her, feeling her tormenting warmth tight around the digit.

Zarissis cried out and gripped the wrist between her legs. Everything he'd been doing before had been so pleasurable, but this felt like a painful intrusion. Never before had anyone done this to her, and she suddenly began to feel doubts about where they were heading.

"Vicente –" she warned, but he cut her off by removing the grasp she had on him and pinning her wrists above her head with his free hand. Fear spiked through her as she gazed up at him, but he seemed unrelenting. He began to move his finger inside her once more and she merely clenched her teeth, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over her eyes.

"Trust me," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. "The pain will be over soon."

Vicente gazed down on her painful expression and felt his own feelings of guilt arise at hurting her. Still, it could not be helped, and if anyone was to help her through this it would be him. Had it been Lucien in his place, Vicente had no doubt he would have been carelessly rough with her and leave her terrified.

He angled his hand upward and pressed, searching for the spot that would send her spiraling into pleasure again. He must have been successful as her hips jerked of their own cognition and a tiny gasp escaped her lips.

Moving his fingers once more, Vicente added another digit. This time she really did sob out, tears staining her cheeks even as she gasped in painful pleasure at his touch. He kept a steady rhythm, noting as her skin began to redden and her chest heave with quick breaths.

Zarissis's legs clenched around him, and Vicente watched her eyes squeeze shut, mouth opening into the beginning of a pleasurable scream.

Just as quickly as he had entered, he was gone, and Zarissis sobbed out in protest as his fingers were removed from her core. The pressure was unimaginable, and she gripped his arms desperately.

"Please Vicente, please," she wept against him, watching as he regarded her with hungry eyes. She didn't care about the pain, not anymore. She wanted him, no, needed him. Nothing mattered except the man in front of her.

They had been the words he was dying to hear. Vicente flashed a predatory smile and hitched her legs around his waist, pressing his own arousal into her. He felt the tear of her maidenhood even as she cried out, followed by the distinctive scent of blood.

He felt unbelievably large inside her. Zarissis had never experienced the intimacy of a man, but now she understood why some referred to it as 'making love'. His body was flush against hers and she felt one with him, clawing at his back as he began to move inside her.

The pain dimmed to an intense bliss, and he clutched her close to him as he gasped into her ear. Never had Zarissis heard such a beautiful sound as the needy moan that passed his lips, uttered into the warmth of her shoulder. He kissed her neck as he rocked into her, speed increasing with each passing second.

The table may not take this sort of violent love-making, she thought mindlessly as it groaned beneath the friction of their bodies. She was not given a moment to contemplate it further as he gripped her thigh closer and savagely thrust into her, tearing pleasurable shrieks from her lips.

The pressure was building again, and she was certain she was going to fall apart. She was dimly aware of her own pleading and babbling, please, yes, harder, don't stop, oh Vicente. His thrusts were becoming more erratic and she knew he must have been just as close as she was, his own gasping and cries of pleasure becoming just as loud as hers.

Zarissis reached down and dug her fingernails into his backside, pulling him into her as she thrust back down with equal roughness. Her sudden touch on him sent him spiraling over the edge, teeth sinking into the soft flesh on her shoulder as his climax overtook him.

She screamed. The feeling was unlike any other as she tipped over the edge, her insides seeming to clench and pulse at the pleasure. She could hear herself moaning his name over and over, only half aware of his fangs in her neck. That too was unimaginable bliss, and she held his head close as the euphoria began to wear off, pressing him to drink more of her blood.

With her eyes closed, Zarissis felt joy overcome her. She never could have fathomed the exhilaration she experienced before, and to have shared such an event with Vicente…her heart warmed at the thought of his name, even at the sting of his sucking on his neck. She hissed as he withdrew his teeth and placed a kiss on her skin.

"Feeling good?" He murmured, running his fingers over her flushed cheeks. Gods, she looked beautiful. Zarissis gazed back with her lips parted as she took deep breaths, trying to regain air after their passionate encounter. Her eyes were heavy as she regarded him, reaching forward to brush his loose hair behind his ears.

"I love you," she blurted, blushing deeply at her own words. She had never loved anyone before, but the way he made her feel…if love was real, then this had to be it. Zarissis never wanted to leave the cold confines of his arms. She didn't care if he was a vampire or if he was dead or if he murdered for a living. No one had cared for her in such a way, and even looking at him made her heart race faster.

Vicente tilted his head to the side, a delicate smile stretching across his features. To watch her, so insecure as she confided in him, warmed his heart. "I love you too, little bird." Vicente leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling her heartbeat patter beneath her skin. He wanted to savor every moment with her, commit the details about her to memory. If only he could remember the taste of her flesh on his lips, he'd be happily dead.

At his response she threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his chest, earning a hum of approval from Vicente. He rolled her on top of him and held her close, smelling the result of their passion on her skin. After a few moments of cuddling, Vicente felt her muscles relax and her head droop against his neck as she fell asleep. He couldn't fight the grin that overtook his features.

She was beautiful, and she was his, like a dark gift from the Night Mother herself. Vicente closed his eyes and allowed himself to drop his guard, falling into a restful nap while he waited for her to wake up.

The first thing Zarissis was aware of was how cold her bed seemed to have gotten over night. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant sensation; her skin felt flushed and warm and the coolness beneath her was quite welcome. She pulled the blanket that was around her closer to her body, and was rewarded with her bed humming in amusement – her 'bed' naturally being the naked vampire beneath her that was reclined with a hand behind his head as he regarded her with a cheerful smile.

"Good evening, sweetling," he murmured, trying in vain to disguise his immense pleasure. "It is not every day that I get to wake up with a beautiful, naked woman on top of me."

Zarissis's face flushed as she regarded him through sleepy eyes. "How long have you been awake?"

"Oh, long enough to hear you snore," he teased, wrapping long strands of orange hair around his fingers. Zarissis dropped her head back on his chest, contemplating sleep again, when she heard something she'd never expected to hear from him.

With her ear pressed against him, the light sound of a slow heartbeat thumped from within his chest. It wasn't like a typical human's heartbeat; each pulse was several seconds apart and far slower than any human heartbeat she'd ever heard. As if in recognition of her observation, Vicente hummed in amusement.

"Your blood has done wonders for my physique. I suppose I can say my cold heart only beats for you?" He flashed fangs with an exceptionally large smile.

"Is that a hint you'd like breakfast?" Zarissis teased in response, running a finger through the light dust of brown hair on his chest. She was surprised to find that there was no residual pain in her neck, and upon further observation she couldn't feel any scabs or scarring either. It must have been something to do with his vampiric powers, and Zarissis couldn't help but wonder if she was infected now.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, inhaling her scent. "You do smell phenomenal, my love. Perhaps I shall?" He growled into her ear and Zarissis felt heat flare through her body at the pleasurable scraping of his fangs.

Unlike before when she'd been at the peak of her climax, Zarissis was acutely aware of Vicente's own shallow breathing as he nuzzled her neck, and the way her body shivered each time his teeth scraped against her. She couldn't hold back the painful shriek that erupted when he finally pierced her sensitive skin.

It almost felt as though she'd been…drugged. The pain ebbed into a mild pleasure, but the world began to spin and soften around her. She felt her muscles go slack involuntarily and the way her body slumped against his.

Zarissis had read many books by scholars and researchers alike, and knew of basic knowledge about the symptoms of venom emitted by the species of Tamriel. It would explain why her puncture wounds healed so quickly, and why a vampire's bite could pass the disease, as well as her current state of mind. Vampiric venom seemed to have many uses, and she wondered if she could infect herself with it through simply kissing him or if the action of biting and drinking blood released the venom automatically.

So caught up was she in her thoughts that she barely noticed Vicente watching her through curious eyes, long since departed from her neck.

"What are you thinking?" He inquired softly, stroking her hair back as he held up her limp body. It was almost frustrating the lack of movement she seemed to have, and had she been with anyone but Vicente the helplessness would have sent her into a frenzy of panic.

"Contemplating your many special abilities, like the one to paralyze me and render me vulnerable." It was a snide remark, tinged with a hint of sarcasm, but he merely narrowed his eyes in a playful manner.

"I haven't heard you complain yet, especially last night when you were holding me."

His smile was infectious. It was impossible for her to feel any bitterness toward him; besides, she knew exactly what he was before she decided to be stripped down in front of him. In a way it was exciting to have a creature considered mythological for a lover – a boyfriend even, if she could call him that.

"Of course I wouldn't complain." The feeling began to ooze back into her arms and she carefully squirmed back into a cuddling position, her body wrapped precariously around his, leg thrown half-hazardly over his groin. "Feeling full now?"

"Oh certainly. But there is the matter of making you breakfast, yes?" Instead of continuing to cuddle her as she'd hoped, Vicente removed her attachments to his body and swung off of the stone slab, reaching for his pants strewn across the floor.

A pout formed on her lips as she watched him change, letting her eyes linger on his body. "Now?"

Vicente laced up his pants and began to hunt for something on the floor before returning to her place on his bed. She squealed as he seized her by the hips and pulled her toward him, earning a moan as her pelvis became flush with his body.

He grinned mischievously and pulled his shirt over her head. "Now."

Zarissis was in an exceptionally good mood. Patting Sufferthorn at her hip concealed beneath the waist of her pants, she followed Ocheeva diligently through the marketplace.

Normally a woman wearing pants was unusual for this region, but a quick glance in any mirror could confirm that Zarissis looked very little like a merchant's daughter and now bore the ragged appearance of many adventurers. She was conscious of her toned arms and the dirty tan that had spread over her face recently, as well as the messy state of her hair. Typically it was painstakingly braided, but she had thrown it into a disorganized bun at the back of her head, flyaway hairs crowning her face.

"Apples," Zarissis read from the grocery list squashed in her hands. "For Lucien." This shopping trip was turning out to be quite the expedition, and already she struggled to keep the various food items inside the sack on her back.

Curse Vicente. How quickly he volunteered her! When Ocheeva asked for someone to help her, Vicente didn't even bother asking Zarissis what she wanted to do. It was probably best that Ocheeva pulled her away quickly or she would have hit him.

She didn't want to think about what he'd do in response.

"Why does Lucien need so many apples?" Zarissis frowned as Ocheeva pulled open the sack on her back and shoved an armful of fruit in it. She grunted over the weight and made a mental note to say something to the man later.

Ocheeva chuckled low and throatily. "Many reasons, my dear. Pray to our Mother that you never witness any of them first hand."

Zarissis frowned. It was quite a cryptic response, but the tone of the Argonian's voice suggested that she better drop it. Maybe Lucien could provide her insight later…although at the present time, Zarissis was half-tempted to throw them at him next time she ran into him.

"I heard you got a promotion," Ocheeva began again, turning to give her a toothy smile. "Congratulations."

She quickly ducked to hide her face as a crimson blush blossomed over her cheeks. Reward indeed. The day after their love-making Vicente decided to inform her of her actual success and advancement to Slayer. That, of course, was followed by her clothes being torn from her body, yet again.

Antoinetta had been kind enough to find her a replacement set of armor when she snuck back into the living quarters at night wearing Vicente's clothes. The blonde had giggled and demanded all the details, already guessing what had transpired between the two.

Of course, the whole sanctuary knew by that point. Lucien made sure of it after he saw her in Vicente's clothes one morning.

"Thank you," Zarissis muttered to Ocheeva, who chuckled happily.

"No need to be so embarrassed, child. Our Dark Brothers and Sisters are allowed to love and have relationships. Vicente has been a part of this Sanctuary for a very long time, acting as a mentor and in some cases as a father to us. I'm happy that both of you have each other."

Ocheeva smiled at her before reading over her shopping list again, marking off the last of the items. "Teinaava and myself were nearly raised by Vicente. Lucien found us, you know, as hatchlings. He was just a boy then, didn't even know how to take care of himself let alone two Argonian infants. Vicente directed him and showed us many things. I admire him greatly, and you as well."

Zarissis blushed again and looked down. She felt barely old enough herself, yet to know that Vicente had been with everyone else as they grew up was…unusual, to say the least. Still, he certainly had more than a lifetime of women to choose from, and he told her he loved her.

She frowned. "So what happens now? I mean I'm human, and he's not. I'm happy to have him, but it'd be weird for him to see me old when he looks so young."

At her words Ocheeva gazed at her and tilted her head, rubbing her scaled chin in thought. "Well, if he's serious about you, I imagine he might consider turning you. You'd be able to share the night with him, then."

There was an idea Zarisiss had only considered in passing. Being a vampire? Vicente seemed happy enough, and killing sent her into enough of a bloodlust that maybe drinking blood wouldn't be so bad. It was surreal, though. Would he really want to be with her forever?

Ocheeva motioned for her to follow, pulling Zarissis from her thoughts. "We're done shopping, let's head back. If you're really bothered, I'd recommend asking Vicente himself. In my experience, he's always been very kind and understanding toward any kind of question. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

She did love him, but the idea of asking him if he wanted to be with her forever was intense. Still, she'd give it a thought. Throwing the bag of food over her back, Zarissis followed Ocheeva back to the Sanctuary, her questions still running through her mind.

Lucien scowled over the rim of his cup, his mouth set into a hard line. This kind of gaze would have frightened off even the hardiest assassins, but the vampire before him merely glared coldly back. There was very little that could break the external façade of Vicente Valtieri.

The old vampire was no fool, but neither was Lucien.

"She was mine, you know," Lucien snarled at last, breaking the silence. Internally he fumed. It was a gross shock to him when he walked into the kitchen of the Sanctuary after a long day of contracts to find Zarissis wearing an oversized grey shirt that certainly wasn't hers, and a shirtless vampire who was smirking like he'd won the entire betting pool at the Arena.

"I was under the impression that she is an independent adult with the capacity to make her own choices." Vicente's voice was cold, and his look equally unamused.

Lucien jumped from his chair and threw his cup down, the metal goblet clattering noisily against the stone. "You SEDUCED her! You call that independent?" He snarled in a rage and knocked the candles from the table, reminding Vicente vaguely of an overgrown child.

"She had the ability to say no, Lucien. That's more free will then you would have given her." He watched Lucien with the look of a disapproving parent, but offered no further information on his blossoming relationship with the young assassin in question. He knew Lucien and had prepared for this. All the same, whatever his Speaker thought now didn't matter. Vicente walked a fine line between man and monster each day, and in his mind she was now with him. He had mated with her, given her everything he had to offer. He would long out-live Lucien, and with his blood running through her veins, so would Zarissis.

He wouldn't let her go, not now. The mere thought of her set his veins on fire, a desire that could not be quenched. Drinking her blood was like a drug, if only for the thought of a piece of her being with him. Vampires were obsessive over their possessions, and Vicente didn't want to objectify her, but the vampire part of him wanted to own her. Every time he saw her, it whispered in the back of his mind that she was his, and he'd kill anyone or anything that tried to take her from him.

Vicente fought down the boiling desire that burned within him as he watched Lucien's fury. The Speaker turned to him at his words.

"Did I ever say no?" His voice was merely a whisper, eyes narrowed dangerously. Vicente now knew they were walking on treacherous ground. Lucien wielded the past like a weapon, ready to slap the vampire with it any chance he had.

Vicente's words came out in a growl. "I would say it was I who never had the chance to say no. Do not forget who seduced who, Lucien."

The Speaker took two steps forward, his fist colliding with Vicente's jaw with more force than the vampire knew he had. It didn't hurt, so to say, but it was the shock of being hit that made Vicente hiss and withdraw.

"We used to be friends, once." Vicente's voice came in a murmur, and he touched the place on his chin where he could still feel Lucien's touch. The Speaker didn't say anything, merely pulled back and turned away, closing the door behind him as he left Vicente's room in silence.

He hoped it was merely the stress of the traitor driving a rift between them. Now was not a time for Lucien to isolate himself from his only allies, not with someone Oblivion-bent on framing the Imperial for the deaths of many members of the Brotherhood.

Vicente only hoped he'd come to his senses soon enough and realize that there was much more at stake than his pitiful crush. They were in dark times, and Vicente feared he'd need to protect more than just Lucien.

A/N: I felt like I needed to add an author note to say sorry for the long delay before update, personal life shit ya know. Also please review. I feel like all of you are afraid to admit you liked the sex. Just admit to it. Everyone knows already ;) Muahahaha