The darker the red, the more recently fed.

The unnatural red of his eyes never frightened me. It was, oddly, the one detail of his species that I was so keenly focused on from the beginning. Alec could hide anything for his outward appearance and reputation. From the expression on his face to the power of his stance. It was a beautiful facade. Sometimes, I was lucky enough to see through it. Usually when he wasn't expecting a rush of emotions to hit him like a ravenous wave.

Those eyes now, were shining brightly with a deep burgundy red.

And I saw nothing.

My chest tightened, and air barely entered my lungs. I needed to get out of there. Everything in me was telling me to run.

So, I ran.

I stumbled as I shoved myself up from the ground, grabbing the railing to keep from falling while simultaneously using it to launch me faster down the aisle. It didn't hinder me or my desire to get out of there as I sprinted to the staircase.

Alec stopped me on the last step with my hands on both banisters. I should not have expected any different. I took a hail mary and tried to slide past him on the left. He was already blocking my path by the time I made the decision, his hand caught my elbow as if he expected me to trip. Sparks resonated from his touch, but I refused to look at him.

"Darling, look at me." My chest constricted as Alec pleaded with me, but I squeezed my eyes tight.

"Don't call me that."

My brain was beginning to go numb, the stitching of some kind of static prodding at every thought that tried to sneak into my consciousness. This unknown feeling was taking over like the shadow of a cloud, blocking everything that tried to give me an inch of sunlight.

"Saffiya –"

"Alec," I murmured softly as the man at the front desk began to take notice. "Let me go."

"Please don't make me do that." His voice was strained, and I had to stop myself from comforting him.

I tried to step past him again, but his hold kept me in place. My body slightly jerked from the movement, which caused the owner of the shop to stand, at which point Prosper moved to deal with him.

My eyes were relinquished to his. The red had lost its dominance to his pupils, dilated and shining with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. He never did it on purpose, and I doubt he knew he had such an intense puppy dog look that it made me feel as if the entire world was on the line. I needed to think, and I couldn't process anything when he looked at me like that.

"If you don't let me go, I'll scream."

His brows furrowed with something more than determination, maybe a little doubt. We weren't on an empty train platform this time, and the stakes were higher here in the heart of the Volturi's city.

"Please don't run from me." There was a flash in his eyes and a weakness in his words. I faltered. "Please."

All I did was run from him.

I repeated, "Let me go." He did.

I stayed frozen on the last step of the staircase. I didn't want him to let me go. I could feel the anxiety radiating off of Alec in waves. We stood inches away, the single stair difference putting us at near equal height. My focus traveled from where his hand had held me, the sparks only just fading, to the side of his body and up his shoulder. Semi-formal (as if he'd wear anything less) tan trousers were paired with a hunter green formal top, and he certainly did not fit into the Italian city's considerably lighter style.

I was about to give in to the natural pull to him when I caught sight of a chain peaking out along the V-shaped neckline of his shirt. The silver necklace was isolated, as the more vibrant gold in his Volturi crest was unnecessary for the city. And much more gaudy, in my opinion.

My lips parted, and tears immediately sprung to my eyes. For something that was so valuable to me, I had completely forgotten about the chain that held my mother's ring.

My free hand moved to his chest, and he seemed unsure until the pad of my index finger slipped under the chain. He tensed, but whether that was because he was waiting for my reaction or because I was touching him was his business. He didn't stop me as I followed it down, over the fabric as it was hidden under his clothing. My fingers trailed to his ribcage, where the outline of the ring was hidden.

Was I worried Alec would kill me like he killed Oakley? Except, he didn't kill Oakley. He turned her.

My eyes flickered to Prosper, feeling the pressure of some nonexistent clock, but he and the owner were gone.

Things had changed. Alec had changed. Had I?

I glanced towards the door.

Before I could process it, my free hand joined the other to rest on his chest, and my face collapsed against his shoulder. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. His arm circled my waist, his hand rising to gently cradle my head. I paid no attention as he stepped back, lifting me down the remaining stairs and hugging me tightly into his chest.

The sense of sanctuary that enveloped me from simply being this close to him, in his arms, was impossible. Quite literally, supernatural.

"I have indulged in your ignorance for too long." Alec separated us and offered me his hand. "Walk with me?"

The farmers market was nearing its end, but it seemed just as busy. Oakley was missing, but Percy and Prosper were leaning casually against the brick wall. Percy stood up straight to follow, but Alec shook his head and began to walk us casually through the streets. Every once in a while, he would turn us in one direction or the other, but neither of us spoke as the sidewalks became steadily emptier.

I knew he was waiting for the endless barrage of questions he had come to expect from me. I could sense the anxiety growing in him the further we walked in silence.

And Alec was the most patient person I knew, but even he had his limits.

He physically stopped me and placed both his hands on my arms. I practically guided myself to the tiered wall beside us. He was dead on this morning – for someone who liked to run, I sure enjoyed being trapped by him. Under him. Oh god.

"Talk to me," he sounded agitated.

"What do you want me to say?" I mumbled, my eyes focused on his chest. His thumb slipped under my shirt at my hips, unconsciously caressing the skin back and forth while his other hand left to brush my hair behind my ear.

"Fuck, Saffiya. Anything." I shrugged. "You're scaring me."

Oh.

He sighed after another minute of awkward silence. Well, awkward for him, I'm sure. My brain was zeroed in on his thumb as it absentmindedly moved over my hipbone. I didn't care whether he went north or south, but I was going to have a heart attack if he didn't choose. But he could not read my mind. So, he eased into the issue, "You have every right to be angry." I tilted my head, my mind easily switching back.

"I'm not angry." His hand fell from my face as he leaned back.

"You're not?" I shook my head while he stared at me, lips parted in steady confusion.

I examined his expression. "Should I be?"

He sort of laughed, uncomfortable and unsure, a composure I had never seen him sport. "Yes, I believe some – most partners would be."

"Why?"

He frowned. "Because I did not inform you of my previous relations with Oakley."

"Oh." I looked down at our shoes. "I hadn't thought of that yet."

The first question that came to mind on the topic set off a match in my stomach, but I quickly tuned it out. Why didn't he tell me anything prior? It would have been nice if he had told me immediately when Oakley arrived, but I could follow his logic as to why he chose not to, considering the details of her transformation and their history.

Was it his history with Oakley? No. I didn't care that he slept with the crazy woman. I didn't particularly like the thought of his hands on someone else in the way he touched me or that I wanted him to touch me. It made me feel a little gross, but I had no reason nor right to be angry with him over it happening in the past. Though, I knew he would not be quite as level-headed if we discussed my extremely limited history.

Honestly, it bothered me more that he looked no older than sixteen and a woman of twenty said he seduced her, even if age was of little consequence in their time and he was already a vampire. It was weird.

His body tensed as if he could tell that he'd prompted my thoughts to switch gears, and wasn't sure how he felt about it. His eyes began to flit over my face, trying to gauge any results so he could prepare. I took pity on him.

"I'm a little unfairly annoyed with you because you knew what Oakley was like and didn't prepare me with anything other than 'dangerous.'"

I paused, and it took him a few seconds to realize I was expecting an explanation for the brief comment.

"I had hoped to not expose you to her, especially not alone and for the period of time she achieved today." He spoke slowly. That was suspicious, but I reserved judgment and absorbed the information at my own pace. "As you have learned, she thrives on getting under one's skin – maliciously and eagerly."

I processed, finding the answer suitable before thinking again. "I'm pissed that I had to hear your sexual history basically from Oakley," he flinched, "but I don't think we were quite ready for that conversation yet anyways." He seemed relieved and grateful as his hand joined the other at my hips.

"Thank you for being honest with me."

"Don't get me wrong," Okay, let's do the honesty thing. "It makes me feel icky to think of you with someone else, but it's sort of unfamiliar territory for me anyway." My eyes studied his shirt, too bashful to wait for him to respond, so I rambled. "You're over a thousand years old, and you never expected a mate. If you haven't been with at least one person, I'd be embarrassed for you." He chuckled at my lighthearted tease.

Now that I'd started, I couldn't stop. "It made me feel wanted when you defended me."

He raised his eyebrows as my hands slid up from his chest with growing courage and loosely locked behind his neck, bringing him a step closer. "Is it weird that I found it kind of…attractive that you almost broke her arm for touching you?"

A rough sound came from his throat as his fingers pressed into my waist. I wasn't sure when they'd risen, but it definitely made my heart beat faster.

His voice was significantly lowered as he asked, "Anything else on your mind?"

He was like a flashcard, serving as a catalyst so I could find the connection. Because that's when the scariest question hit me unexpectedly – and hard. I loosened my arms around him.

He studied my change for a moment as if deciding whether he should ask again or not. "What else?"

"Did you love her?"

He smiled sadly at me.

"I thought I could," he admitted. Something inside me flashed red. "But no, never. And I do not believe Oakley experiences any emotion not underlined by self-preservation and malice. It was purely physical, and infrequent." It didn't make me feel much better, but I'm not sure any answer would have been preferable.

"Nothing could compare to –" I shook my head, leaning up to briefly brush my lips against his jaw. The last thing I needed was reassurance. I never doubted him, and while I was still learning how to return the comfort, I hoped to be able to ensure him the same confidence one day soon.

I tugged on his hand, keeping us moving along the path.

"What were you thinking of? Previously?"

I hesitated, and we naturally broke apart. "I'm hurt that she knew more about you than I do, and apparently more details than the others," I tugged on my bottom lip, "and I am really sorry that I asked her to tell me your story when that was your decision to make."

He nodded, but my stomach clenched when there wasn't verbal forgiveness.

"Would you like to know anything else?"

My head shot up to meet his eyes. He was serious.

Yes. There was something. I don't know why it bothered me, as the action may have been the most reasonable in Oakley's story. Thinking that he was capable of something so violent made me almost wary, but I couldn't fathom why.

"Did you really kill the boys that teased Jane?"

He frowned, and his head even tilted to the side in deep thought, breaking eye contact with me. It wasn't the face of someone coming up with a lie or trying to decide whether to confirm or deny my question. It was like he didn't know what I was talking about.

Alec looked back at me, and the penetrating intensity made me take a step back.

"Do you mean the girls who tried to kill my sister?"

It was my turn to process his question, and my abrupt shock was all that he needed for his eyes to burn.

He dragged both hands roughly through his hair, glowering down the street as if wanting to run off and kill someone. Oakley, I'm assuming. But he did not discredit her or demand to know what she'd told me. Even though, from his reaction, she definitely exaggerated something.

"We do not remember everything from our past. However, Jane and I put our memories together early on, and from what we can recall there was not a lot of good in our human lives." I swallowed, my mind bringing Jane's story about Olive and their mother back to the forefront of my brain.

We walked side by side but distanced. It might appear that we were engaged in a normal conversation. In the recesses of my mind, I knew it was wrong. I could have been satisfied to listen like this if I knew that was what he needed. The problem was, I didn't know, so I matched his steps, and remained fully attentive.

"They did not remove the pyre after they murdered our mother. In some sense, we knew it was meant for us. The Reverend turned us into our mother's victims when it would have been easier to cast doubt around our loyalties. He believed we could be…saved," He said bitterly. "His intentions were made clear in the summer that followed."

"Our father became a pitiful shell after losing our mother, and I was forced to take over the forge." Villages and towns in the years they were alive would maintain a limited hierarchy. Professions that were responsible for necessary materials, like metal, would be considered higher on the associated tier depending on the accessibility. From what I knew, Jane and Alec's village sounded small enough for their forge to be the only one. My assumption was proved correct when he continued. "The Reverend proposed a betrothal between his son and Jane, and I in place of my father, was expected to give permission.

"Jane was furious at the match, but it was strategic. He would be able to support her in a way we could not guarantee from another suitor…and she'd be safe." Alec added softly, "There were still whispers."

I knew he wouldn't want the comfort of well-meaning words that would not change the sting of his actions, nor did I have any to offer. Instead, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his shoulder in a silent kiss, the only way I knew to show support in this moment. Alec's eyes closed, and I think it meant more to him than I thought. I remained there, linking my arm with his as it hung at his side and sliding my fingers in between his. This was right.

"Shortly before our seventeenth year," I recalled Jane mentioning their mother's death occurring soon after their sixteenth birthday, "Olive and the other girls in the village were taunting Jane about our mother. When she tried to fight back, they pushed her into the river and held her down. One of the girls found me, frantic and shouting how they were going to kill her. They scattered like rats when I arrived, but Arthur was there the entire time. Simply watching it happen."

I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to breathe through the disgust and fury that swallowed me with the information. Whatever I was feeling, I imagined his emotions to be ten times darker. "Foolishly, I confronted him that night. If it were not for some of the other boys pulling me off, I would have killed him then." If Alec's anger as a vampire was any indication, I could figure an idea of the damage he could inflict as a human in such a rational rage.

Alec tilted his head to look at me, slowing us down. He led me to the side of the nearest building and his palm went to my cheek, wiping away tears I had failed to notice. I leaned my head against the stone, scanning his face with a patience I didn't know I had. His eyes were haunted, and I realized he was waiting for my permission to continue. I nodded.

"They secured me to a post in the center of our town, and Arthur returned the favour with as many lashings as he desired." It was like I'd been punched in the gut, and my body filled with a wrath so vengeful it forced me to inhale sharply. I forcefully swallowed it back, trying to listen and ignore the urge to protect him against people who were long gone. He observed my outrage with low emotion. "Jane eventually found me, and in her grief, she cursed them to burn."

That sounded like her.

"Two months later, the church burned down with both the Reverend and his son inside. They were walking us to the pyre only hours after."

"They just assumed?" He hadn't expected me to speak, as I'd stayed quiet throughout his story. He stopped, scanning my face thoughtfully.

"Our father turned us in."

Their father lied, or believed his own blood was capable of something so horrific and dehumanizing. He was the reason his own children were burned alive. How could a father accuse his own children of murder when he had lost their mother to the same monsters?

Then, I actually processed the words he'd chosen.

"Turned you in?"

He nodded with no shame, no remorse.

An uneasy feeling rested in my stomach. Earlier, guilt had filled me for believing Oakley over my instincts and everything I knew about Alec. I had always struggled to understand why the vampire world hated them, feared them, and why they were considered so sadistic and evil. Oakley finally provided something that would fit that profile, and I'd hardly questioned it.

My instincts were wrong.

Hesitantly, I brushed the side of my fingers across his cheek. His head tilted into my touch, and his lips graced the back of my knuckles. His eyes fluttered open, returned to a maroon not quite as certain as before, but solid nonetheless.

"You deserved better."

Alec pressed his lips firmly on mine, catching me off guard with the gentle pressure before I returned it.

"I have better."

Dear goodness. I rolled my eyes, but he cut me off before I could make fun of him, tasting my lips with the yearning of forever. I grasped the fabric of his shirt and reconnected our bodies, Alec allowing me to do so. His teeth gently pulled at my lower lip, releasing it with a small pop and proudly drinking in my response. Triumphant, his mouth absolutely dominated mine, taking advantage of my need for air to deepen the kiss as his tongue traced over the seam of my lips.

And then his phone rang.

Alec grunted softly into my mouth, but ignored the sound. I kissed him back, but couldn't stop the small laugh as it continued to ring, "answer it."

"No," he refused petulantly, reconnecting our lips and holding me closer.

I giggled, which made him switch to my neck. He nipped at a soft spot and I held back the sound it called forth to try and catch his attention. "I'm not going anywhere," I reminded. "Swear it." He broke into a smile, a genuine, full-bodied smile. Teeth and everything.

Alec pulled out the phone, handing it over without a beat. He switched places with me, leaning on the wall and pulling my back to his chest. "It's likely Jane returning your call from last night."

His lips found the side of my throat again. I glanced down at the phone flashing with Jane's number and shouldered him away as he continued trying to distract me. He huffed, settling for nuzzling into the crook of my neck.

I flipped it open, laughing at him as I answered, "Hello?"

There was silence, and after too many beats of waiting, Alec tensed behind me just as a smooth, sing-songy male voice spoke, "This must be the infamous Saffiya."

"This is she." Alec held out his hand, demanding the phone but I ignored him. "And who am I speaking with?"

The man on the phone sounded elated, "Anjinha! [little angel] I see the nuns raised you well." My breath caught in surprise at the inside knowledge. It pissed Alec off enough to snatch the phone from my hand.

Alec snarled, pushing off from the bricks. "Where is my sister?" I followed him, and his hand automatically found the loop on my jeans to keep himself together as I leaned against his side to listen in.

The voice did an extreme 180, sounding incredibly disappointed at the sound of Alec's voice. "Oh, I have no idea." Alec's chest eased up with the accent now clearer, despite the questionable confirmation. "You would not have answered if you knew it was me! So, I found one of my humans to – what was it called, Gata?" [cat (vulgar) sexy] His voice distanced itself from the speaker as he spoke to someone else. "Yes! Spoofing." He made an exasperated sound. "Humans, these days. Although they are nothing if not creative."

"What do you want, Bastian?" The vampire blood nightclub owner guy?

"Business as usual, then. I was informed that you wished to speak with me." Hamzah had only just started working on Bastian. How did he already know Alec was looking for him? "My agreement has another two years, and I know the Volturi would never go back on their word," he held a proper guise. But he was caking his display of a prominent businessman so heavily that I began to doubt his confidence, even over the phone. "What is it you want?"

It dawned on me that Bastian probably thought the only reason the Volturi would be looking for him was because he was in trouble. Alec's lips had drawn into a smirk, drawing the same conclusion I had, or he already knew. Only he had to go and be smug about himself.

"That depends on what you have."

"That depends on what you will give me."

In a tone that made me shiver, "Goodbye, Bastian."

"Very well!" The voice called through the phone, desperation slipping in as he enunciated through his accent. "Razin."

"You are wasting my time." I tilted back from Alec, trying to figure out how he thought his harshness would help.

"It is information from within his own house. Not even your spies could access it."

"And you could?"

Bastian paused, but did not answer. "And a gift for your new mate. Retrieved at my club, of course." Alec grit his teeth, but refrained from looking at me. "I would be willing to discuss the terms of a new agreement in person–"

"Volterra is always open to you Bastian." One note of Alec's voice told me Bastian would be lucky if he ever left the city.

"How kind," Bastian clipped. "But I have a very stressful enterprise to run. Tell me, has your mate ever visited Berlin? It would be unfortunate if you were to experience all the city has to offer without her."

"She is otherwise engaged."

"Surely, Alec." The man tried to coax him, "Anything for your Sweet Saffiya."

Dread flooded my system. Why did he say that? Why did he call me that – "Why did you call me that!"

My reaction caught Alec by surprise, as he immediately swapped the phone to his other ear to keep me from grabbing it and demanding more information. But the nickname was like some hypnotist's trigger word, and I quickly found myself with my arms pinned behind me and Alec's hand over my mouth. His hand covered whatever sounds were beginning to fall past my lips. He was glaring at me, but concern flashed in his eyes. My face was practically melting under sudden tears eager to stain my cheeks, a realization that ceased my abrupt battle.

A ringing giggle erupted from where Alec had literally dropped the phone on the cobblestone so he could contain me and whatever fit that was. I shot forward as if I could reach it before him.

"That's enough." Alec snarled, but I'm not sure whether he was talking to me or Bastian, because the phone was suddenly back in his hand. Better not be me. I shoved Alec off, and he relented, eyes guarded as I began to pace.

"Then, I shall expect you both this time tomorrow?"

His grip had tightened on the phone, shaking even as the call ended.

I gave a small yelp as he tossed it against the wall so hard I thought it might smash through the stone. Instead, the pieces shattered and rebounded, and suddenly Alec was holding a sliver of plastic an inch from my face. He dropped it impatiently and stepped on it like an overdramatic baffoon.

"I'm going," I said quickly.

He couldn't quite hold back the growl and gave a sharp, "I know."

I wrapped my arms around myself, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt as he turned away from me, pulling out another phone to dial another number. Since when did he have two phones! He didn't even like them. He grunted in frustration but immediately began speaking rapidly with whoever was on the other line.

Sweet Saffiya.

I dragged my hair up into a ponytail, but I had no rubber band. I gave up with a huff, holding my hands over my forehead and trying to hold in a shout to express my racing emotions. I needed to calm down.

Sweet Saffiya.

This was too much. My lungs started to expand with a harsher pull, as if afraid air would soon become a commodity it could not afford. My blurred vision began to mimic a Dalmatian's spots, so I folded to lower myself to the rocky ground like a child afraid of fully embracing the sand on a beach.

"I have not been informed. She is," Alec glanced back and was on his knee in front of me before I could blink.

I tried to do it on my own, but he held firm, gently guiding my body to sit fully on the ground. I knew it was cold and that his hands should feel colder than the bare ground. Or maybe the bitter air would win that contest. My stomach twisted.

"I'm gonna throw up." The words hardly left me before Alec moved us into the nearest bush. His hands, with surprising expertise, twisted my hair together to bring it away from my face as I emptied my guts out. Poor bush.

I heard footsteps. Footsteps? Vampires don't have –

Alec's hand shot up to halt the newcomers' activity, and he shifted to the side, disrupting my attempt to investigate. His touch returned to my lower back, and I leaned against him after getting the taste out of my mouth as best I could. Exhaustion rushed through me.

He moved his hand over my forehead, lifting it to rest behind my ear for another moment, then the back of my neck. "How do you feel?"

I shook my head, which was a bad idea.

"I've never been to Berlin." He didn't know that.

Alec gave me a bewildered look before inspecting me up and down with concern.

"You okay, kiddo?" Someone asks from a little further away.

My Sweet Saffiya.

I managed what I hoped passed as a nod, trying to stand back up on my own and questionably state, "I'm okay" just before I stumbled back into Alec's waiting figure.

I heard someone snort from behind us, but seeing as I was a bit distracted, Alec snapped at them instead. The murmur of discussion that followed somehow made our interaction feel more private as he fetched a cloth from inside his jacket. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt the semi-soft material swipe over my brow and then across my mouth.

My vision reflected back to me like raindrops on a windowpane. I could see, but nothing was totally clear. The thoughts running through my head wouldn't settle long enough for me to feel anything more than a flash of distress or other unpleasant emotions before they moved onto the next memory. I didn't feel good, and I wanted to cry.

"I'm going to move you," before I could disagree, Alec lifted me anyway and walked instead of using his speed to set me on a bench near our original stop. I could have walked there on my own. Probably.

He began to move away, and I barely kept in a whimper as I tried to follow his body. I rested my head against his arm, which surprised him but I'd regained his attention. If only briefly, as he continued speaking with the others. Felix and Demetri, I think. Maybe Percy. Alec's hand moved to the back of my head, his fingers breaking out and moving slowly through my hair, putting a light pressure on my scalp. My head grew heavier, and I almost convinced myself that this was a fine position to nap in until his support disappeared, making me snap back.

Alec came back into view, kneeling before me. I hadn't realized I was staring at the ground.

"Darling," his voice flowed slowly, with a soft entrance, "I am going to walk you through what will happen next. I need you to listen to me."

He shook my knee a little, and I blinked my eyes back open. "Promise?"

I attempted a convincing smile, my voice hoarse, "Promise."

"Prosper is informing the Masters of Bastian's call and proposal. You and I are going to meet them and the rest of the team to discuss options and strategies." He watched me cautiously. "One of those potential options will be leaving you here – no!" I jerked away from him again, but he kept me rooted to the bench. I shook my head wildly, but he cupped my cheeks and shushed me patiently. "We will only be reviewing it for potential flaws. I will not leave you behind. In fact, I do not want you leaving my side until we return from Berlin."

"Can you do that?" I could do that. Yeah. I could totally do…crap what was it again? "Saffiya, breathe."

I manage a simple, "I am breathing."

"You have another job."

"Okay." I whispered this time cause I still couldn't remember my first one.

"I cannot reach Ja – my sister. So you," there was a rush of air and a figure suddenly at his side. He took something from them and unbent my fingers before closing them around the object. "You are going to keep calling her until you get an answer."

I heard it. The quiver in his voice.

It woke me up.

"I'm gonna find Jane." Kind of woke me up.

"No. You are going to call her."

"Okay."

"Until she answers."

"I know." He eyed me. "I am going to call Jane until she answers because you're worried about her."

Alec grumbled, "I never said I was worried."

I caught his hand as he stood and brought it to my cheek. I raised my head to look up at him and kissed the palm of his hand as he had done earlier before letting him go.

My Sweet Saffiya.

Dad.


A/N: Thank you to everyone for your thoughts and opinions and advice!

An unimportant note: So, this was posted on accident and early on Wattpad, as such it had some errors, and you guys are getting it a bit later. There may be some changes as I continue to compensate, but I chose instead to keep it consistent across sites.

Main things b/c I wanna quell any confusion this accident brings:

The vampire blood club guy (great nickname) was originally published in Dispensation as Finneas, and his name was changed to Bastian.

Bastian's not her dad. She'd know his voice, which added to her little freak out as to why he knew her father's nickname for her, which was used all the way back in Chapter 2, Saviour.

Oh yeah, Sweet Saffiya was her dad's nickname for her.

I think that's it...

Ro