A/N: This is a story that deals with BDSM. Please consider yourself trigger warned.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyers.

Petit Agneau

Chapter One

Little Lamb

To my right, the large wood and iron doors opened, blaring horrid, screeching music into this quiet oasis. I never took my eyes off the ice cubes dancing in the amber liquid of my glass. I wasn't drinking it, of course, but having it made the humans more comfortable. Not that that really mattered anymore. The humans seemed to revel in our otherness. Any chance to see a vampire acting like a vampire was Instagram worthy these days.

At first it felt liberating. Like I could finally be my most authentic self for the first time in over one hundred years. The dietary restrictions were nothing to me, I had embracing "vegetarianism" decades ago and hadn't lapsed since. It was harder for others but necessary in this brand-new world. I suppose I should thank Carlisle for that. If not for his regard for human life I would not have anything I did now. I wouldn't be standing here in this club, I wouldn't own this club. I wouldn't be able to enjoy the things that I did. Decades of exceptional control of that base part of myself allowed me to live, really live my truth.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. I didn't need to look to see who it was. He called every day at this time. I waited three rings, then ignored the call. It was our little ritual. Him checking up on me. Me letting him know I was still alive. Cruel perhaps, but also necessary. He never understood. None of them did. I couldn't be sure if Alice told them what I was doing, but I thought not. She had promised me she wouldn't when I left. But then, if she had seen things going better if she did, I had no doubt she would tell them all. It was her way.

What a pretty, little lamb…

The thought barely registered, but the image did. It was a girl. The one who just walked into the back room. She seemed ordinary enough. Walking down the street I would never have looked twice at her. But here she stuck out. Not necessarily because of her features, brown hair and eyes, pale skin, petite and rather pretty. It was how she was dressed. A blue t-shirt, a jacket, jeans, and sneakers. Humans never dressed like that to come here. They wore leather and studs, long flowing cloaks and coats, or practically nothing at all. At first it made me laugh, now it was annoying. They had this idea of what vampires looked like and were trying so hard to mimic it.

But not this one. She looked like she had just stumbled in off the street. She even had a backpack over her shoulders. Perhaps she just came from class at one of the local universities. How she ended up here remained to be seen. I waited to hear her mind but there was nothing from the spot I knew her to be in.

I watched closely through the eyes of my bartender. She was frozen by the door. Her eyes wide, her heart rate spiked, her mouth ever so slightly ajar.

It was a rather common pose for newcomers to the back room. They never quite believed it until they saw it. And most minds went a bit blank while taking it in. But not quite this blank. Usually I could hear their shock, their arousal at the sight, seeing it through their eyes as it assailed them. But there was nothing. It was as if she wasn't there at all.

I turned my head towards the door. My bartender jumped at the sudden movement. He hadn't seen me move in over three hours. Of course, I had moved several times over the course of those hours, but it had all been too abrupt for him to actually see it. In addition, his mind had been too enraptured by the little lamb at the door. He looked away as soon as he saw that I was now looking at her too. He knew better than to pay attention to any woman who caught my eye.

She wasn't looking at me. Too engrossed in the scene happening across the room. I didn't need to look. I knew what she saw. A half-naked woman, chained to a cross being flogged by her Dom. Again, this was not uncommon. Most who ventured into this part of the club spent the first few minutes staring with wide eyes at the play going on around them. For a novice or the vaguely curious it was quite a spectacle. They had created this idea of what these clubs were from that ridiculous book and movie. The reality was startling to say the least.

Looking at her, there was still nothing from her mind. A first for me. Intrigued, I got up and moved silently and quickly to her side. Too fast for human eyes. I came to a halt at her right. I didn't want to block her view. It was always interesting to see how newcomers experienced what this lifestyle was really like. Would this little lamb like it? Oh, I hoped so. She was delicate. Like the petal of a flower. It would take no small measure of restraint to keep from damaging her. I would have to be so careful with this one. It would be infuriating.

Just the thought of it aroused me.

I took a breath to speak to her and it hit me.

The sweetest scent I had ever come across assailed my sense. For a moment, just a split second, I was no longer in control of myself. There was nothing human left in me anymore. I was a predator, a shark, and her my prey, a sweet seal. We were caught in the dance of life itself. The hunter and his quarry. There was something almost poetic about it. How she and I would move through these next moments. She would die, a small animal succumbing to the strength of a larger, stronger creature. It was almost fate. Perhaps her destiny was to sate my thirst as it had never been sated before.

I could see it in my mind's eye. Pulling her against my chest, tugging her hair back to reveal her throat, letting my lips peal back from my teeth. I could feel how they would slip so easily through her paper-thin flesh. I would savor her blood as long as I could. Letting it coat my mouth, my throat, my entire body. It would be a satisfaction like none I had ever felt before. I would be gratified as I had never been before. My hunger would be sated in a way only human blood could.

My vision came down to a point. Sliding through the hair blocking her neck to the pulse hammering there. Fire coated my throat. More fierce then anything I had felt before, even as a newborn. Nothing had ever smelled so good in all my life. In my early years, every human smelled delicious. I could scent out a drop of blood on someone's clothes and long for the relief of their life force. At the time I could imagine nothing better. Had I known, out in the world somewhere, there existed blood as sweet as this, I would have spent all my life searching for it. And it had found me.

Had I been in any state of mind to, I would have laughed at the misfortune. For her. This would be the best day of my life. Perhaps the last too, but that hardly mattered. I would be able to sate my thirst in a way it had never been sated before. This whole building was filled with humans. I could and would outrun them. They couldn't defeat me or stop me anyway, and I had the resources to flee once I was done. The plan was half-cocked at best, but the fact that I could think at all was nothing short of miracle. My mouth felt dry as the Sahara, the fires of Hell burning down my throat, thick venom coating my teeth.

Nothing mattered but tasting her blood, taking her life force into myself. It was the single most selfish thing I could do and I couldn't wait to do it. I didn't care at all about the room full of people, they were little more than collateral damage. The beast in my throat was the only truth I knew, the only thing that mattered anymore. In only a moment we would both change completely. My eyes would be red. Her body in my arms, pale and lifeless. Destiny.

My immediate instinct was to strike. How I denied it, still evades me.

My phone, still on the bar, vibrated again.

I snapped out of it just as quickly. As soon as my mind cleared everything came back. Sense returned. The blood of this little lamb didn't belong to me. But she certainly would. I relished the idea of this additional torment. Not only would I have to exercise extreme control in dominating her, but I would have to fight my base urge to drain her. I was already hard at the thought. The tight confines of my trousers hid most of it. I pressed into her side, letting her feel it, and shoved my face into her hair.

She froze, suddenly aware that she was no longer alone. All this had happened in mere seconds. Far too quick for her human mind to process. I brought my cold hand to her chin, turning her face to me. Her mind was entirely silent, but I was not beginning to suspect that was not due to shock. A shield perhaps? Oh, this would just make it that much harder. I wouldn't be able to read her thoughts to see if I was pushing her too far. I would have to learn her cues, pay close attention to any subtle movement, or any noise she made to discover her limits. The challenge was more mouthwatering than her blood.

I expected to see fear in her eyes. It was a natural reaction. Most humans were still startled by our otherness. They thought of Dracula when the word vampire came up, but the reality was far more alien than that. I knew what she saw when she looked at me. White skin, flawless and perfect. Messy bronze colored hair. Tall, muscular, perfectly handsome. And my eyes, black as night. But not from hunger. Well, not hunger for her blood. Oh, that was there, I doubted it would ever leave. This hunger was for her submission.

"Now, now, little one," my voice as smooth as silk whispered across her blushing red cheeks, "do not be afraid." Her heartbeat faster at the words, her breathing stuttered against my lips. How sinfully divine. "Some liquid courage perhaps?"

I steered her to the bar. Back to where I had been sitting before. My phone hadn't stopped buzzing. As soon as the call went to voicemail, it would start buzzing again. I quickly turned it off, not bothering to see who was calling. The precious bundle in my arms was far more important.

"What would you like to drink…" I left the question hanging, waiting for her to answer or tell me her name.

She would tell me everything, and soon, but right now she seemed ready to run at any second. The game had already begun between us. I already had to be so infuriatingly careful with her. I fought the grin begging to spread across my face. I didn't want to frighten her.

"Bella," she whispered, never taking her eyes off me. Yes, I like that. Only look at me, only ever me. "Bella Swan."

Although she whispered her voice was strong. More so than I had anticipated. Not a lamb at all it seemed. I could see how my bartender had thought that. She looked so much more fragile than her voice suggested. There was a certainty to her voice that I found beguiling. It was a curiosity. And she was American. There was no obvious accent, so it was impossible to say where from America she came. However, the lack of accent did exclude some places. Not New England or the south. It hardly narrowed things down.

"Bella," I tasted the name on my tongue. So apt for her. Still so startlingly fragile in appearance. It didn't seem like she wanted to be as delicate as she was. "What would you like to drink, Bella?"

Her eyes flicked over to the bartender. I had never bothered to learn his name. He was intelligent though. He kept his eyes off her, merely inclining his head in her direction, letting her know he was listening for her order.

"Amaretto sour, please."

A sweet drink, I learned from his mind. Yet another piece to this puzzle. He nodded and began to put it together. The phone rang behind him. He glanced at it, then at me. The question was clear. Yes, very intelligent. Perhaps I should learn his name. He might be useful in management. A thought for another time. I shook my head ever so slightly, but he caught it. He was to finish the drink first.

The phone kept ringing. He placed the drink in front of Bella and rushed to answer it. I wasn't surprised by the voice I heard but ignored it all the same. I nudged the glass towards her and watched closely as her lips wrapped around the two little straws. Oh, those lips. The sinful things I would do to those lips.

There was a question in her eyes; before she could ask it though. "Boss?"

I didn't bother looking at the bartender. "Hang up, if they call back, hang up again."

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen!" Too fast for the humans to understand, but I caught it. Oh, Alice, not now. He hung up the phone before she could say more. Yes, this human had potential.

Her eyes widened at this exchange. "You work here?"

I grinned. "I own here." Her heart raced. I reached out slowly and placed my hand between her breasts. The muscle under my fingers sped up. "Listen to your heart fly."

The phone rang again. Alice was persistent if nothing else. It didn't matter, we wouldn't be out here much longer, and I trusted this employee to listen to instructions.

"So, you really are… one of them?" I smiled at her timid question and the way she paused before saying vampire.

"Does that frighten you, Bella?"

She shook her head quickly, too quickly to have actually thought about it. "I've seen your kind before, just never talked to any." She took a sip of her drink, eyes still locked on me. My hand still pressed between her breasts; I could feel as well as I could hear the effect I had on her. "I never saw any before coming to London. They just weren't around my hometown."

"Where are you from?" I moved my hand up slowly, eager to feel her skin again. The texture would be different on her chest and throat, softer. She shivered as the pads of my fingers slipped past the collar of her shirt.

"Oh, Arizona but I meant Florida," she said, her voice breathy and soft. "That's where I was living when… well, you know."

"No, you wouldn't find many vampires in either of those states," I laughed. She gave a quiet giggle and ducked her head. I cupped her chin, bringing her eyes back to mine. "No hiding, Bella." Her first order. We would see how she did with it.

"Where are you from?" she asked, then blushed again. "Although, I should probably ask your name first."

"Edward Masen," I said easily. "I was born in Chicago." She opened her mouth, another question in her eyes. But she closed her mouth just as quickly and looked away again. "Eyes on me, little one," I snapped. Her eyes came back to me instantly. "You can ask me anything."

She took another deep pull of her drink, draining it. I slipped the glass from her hand and pushed it towards the bartender. He quickly swapped it out with a fresh one. Bella blinked at the new drink but quickly brought her eyes back to me.

"I don't usually drink this much," she admitted, taking another sip regardless. Her heart finally began to slow. "Umm… I don't want to be rude."

"Ah, little one," I sighed, pulling my hands away from her. "How easily frustrated I am." Her heart picked back up again, just I knew it would.

"What? Why?" She leaned towards me, reaching out but stopped short.

I fought my grin. Oh, my little lamb, already so eager for my touch.

"I told you. You can ask me anything. I'm not used to being ignored."

She started shaking her head before I finished. "I wasn't ignoring you, I promise," she said, hurriedly. "I just don't want to offend you. I've never talked to a va- I mean, one of you, before. I don't know what's okay to talk about and what isn't."

I knew that, of course. I stared her a moment. Pausing my game to think. There was the added benefit of making her squirm a little. She was such an odd mix. Both forthright and fragile. Perhaps she knew her vulnerability and fought tooth and nail against it?

"We are just as unique as humans in what does and doesn't offend us. All you can do is ask." She bit her lip and looked away again. That was getting frustrating. How I longed to take her over my knee for it. Soon. "Speak, Bella," I ordered.

Her eyes returned to mine. There was a bit of mischief there. "It's different with your kind, though. If I offended another human," she shrugged, "I mean they probably won't kill me for it."

A sharp mind too. She thought she was being clever pointing this out to me. Quite frankly humans killed each other all the time over insults, real or imagined. But she was smart, she knew that. My Bella was merely pointing out how much easier that would be for me. True, but irrelevant. I wasn't interested in killing her anymore, no matter how sweet her blood.

"Ask."

"When? When were you born in Chicago?"

I chuckled at the question. Humans were so fascinated with the concept of forever. How little it meant, in reality, alluded them.

"1901."

I could see in her eyes that she was doing the math in her head. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open when she worked it out. My chuckle was low and dark. What an invitation that mouth was. My patience was coming to an end. I stood up, she followed suit reaching out to me again.

"I'm sorry! I was pushing too much? I mean, I-"

I held up my hand to stop her and then turned it. An offering.

She had to choose. Did she follow me? Or did she flee? I thought I knew what she would do. I could see in her eyes she thought she knew what she should do. She glanced over her shoulder at the door. Her eyes flicked to the phone, still ringing. And then back to me.

Her warm little hand nestled in mine.

I grinned. The phone stopped ringing.