Desperate Times (closed)

[sweetheart97]

She struggled to run, though it wasn't as though she could go any faster. Her leg hurt with every step. Lightning flashed through the sky as rain poured down her face. Her clothes were drenched. Her normally soft blonde hair was plastered to her head, and her peaches and cream skin was dotted with mud. To be fair, she'd been running, rather, on the run, for what felt like years, even though the virus that took out half the human population only came about 3 years ago. The first two years and some change she lived with other humans.

Cassandra was all that was left.

One day, their building got overrun by vampires. Because a pandemic wasn't enough, vampires existed, so did werewolves, elves, the Fae, and who knew what else. To be fair, the elves and the Fae weren't awful, so she heard. They were responsible for the vaccine.

The vaccine that cured the virus and made them vulnerable to vampires again. Oh yeah, good job guys. A plus.

She darted underneath a tree, leaning against it and panting hard. She couldn't even roll up her pant leg to see what was wrong. There'd been a trap, and she hadn't been careful, but she could put weight on it so that must mean it wasn't broken, she reasoned. Correct guess or not, she needed to move. She took out a map. It was crude. She was about to cross into vampire territory. It didn't matter which one. She just needed to get through it as quickly as possible. On the other side were the Fae. She'd be safe...well, safer...there.

She tucked the map away carefully. It had gotten wet. She limped as quickly as she could, heard a howl, and moved faster. Cassie looked ahead, almost screaming in frustration.

The stupid vampire had stupid bars around his...or her property. Stupid, metal fence.

Swearing under her breath, and hearing another howl, she decided she didn't really have a choice in the matter here. She could probably get across, and at least have a second to think. She ran, threw her bag over the fence, and saw that if she was careful, she could step on these little pointy bits. She gripped the slick metal bars, and placed her booted foot on the spike, which turned out to be slick and sharp. Cassie got her footing again, carefully ascending. Don't look down, she told herself. The howling was so close, almost to the fence. Terrified tears ran down her cheeks, and she made it up another spike. Then the howling was below her, and something jumped at her, then whined, and landed on the ground. Cassie looked down. She didn't understand. Why weren't they attacking?

She couldn't stay up here all night. Her arms were starting to shake. She slipped trying to get her foot on the last spike, but she sliced her pant leg and quite deeply down her leg. She opened her mouth in a wordless scream, got herself up to the top and threw herself over the fence. The fall knocked the wind out of her and she was more covered in mud than anything, but she was alive. She laughed, breathlessly looking through the fence. "Sucks to be...you."

Cassandra sat up after a moment, and saw her leg. Well, she saw her pant leg. "Oh no...no, no, no, no..." She scrambled for her pack, looking for a flashlight. It worked for a few seconds, enough for her to see that she was bleeding quite a lot. She opened the med kit, sheltering it as much as she could. She looked at the small alcohol wipe, and started to try and clean the top of the wound. Flinching, she knew if she continued she'd scream. She put a clean shirt against the wound and just bound the thing tightly, hoping to stop the blood. She didn't have far to go now, maybe a mile? Two? This map wasn't exactly drawn to scale. She tried standing, and had to sit back down. Her other leg was much more painful now than it had been when she was walking on it. She looked around for shelter, very much regretting her choices. No where here would be safe. She looked through her weapons pouch, something she had thrown together. Something to kill a vampire...something to kill a ...she held up what she found and suppressed the urge to scream out of frustration.

It was a No. 2 pencil.

It was all she had. She clutched it, her pack at her back. It was a green bag with several pins on the front, including a red and white anti vaxxer pin.

This rain had to stop some time. Meanwhile, she'd be here with her stake, blue eyes watching.

 

[The_gladiator]

“You’re pretty cute, for a dead man,” her words still echoed in his head as he stumbled away from the gate in his security fence. Finally, back on his property. What had hunger made him do? He wondered to himself even as he stood in the steady rain, turning his face up to it. The cool water serving as a balm for his heated cheeks. This felt good, way too good, but it always did. Even so was it worth the price? He growled as his right hand drifted down to press against the lump in his trousers, as if pressing against it would make it go away. Definitely not worth the price, he decided in that moment. He could be assured that she was not left this wanting, he had more than seen to that. She had given him the blood he needed. When he had asked her about his own carnal needs, she had laughed in his face. He had made the one mistake he always seemed to make when dealing with the tricky fae. His release had not been a part of their agreement, their negotiations, although hers had been.

Darius wiped water from his face, as if he could wipe away the memories of what he had just done, just to have a drink, just to avoid starvation. He closed his eyelids over his eyes. The hazel eyes were a combination of olive green and golden brown that seemed to shift colors with his mood and his clothing choices. The water ran from his long dark hair in rivulets that snaked down the back of his shirt, further serving to cool his heated skin. If he were human, he would be well and truly drunk, fae blood packed quite a punch.

Finally, Darius headed towards his home, fully intending to sleep off the remains of the power trip he was on. Then he heard the howls. Distant but growing closer. A frown creased his brow. The pack was hunting something. He was well familiar with the local wolves. He saw them whenever he had occasion to deal with the man, nay fellow vampire, pulling their strings. Though both had been ritually murdered to be converted to vampires by their mistress hundreds of years before, he still couldn’t escape that bastard even in undeath.

Dark to his light; they would be forever joined. To this day Darius wasn’t sure what curse beyond vampirism had been bestowed on he and his brother that they could not be far from one another. They had tried it at various times in their undead lives, but it was not pleasant. Not that he particularly found having Dominic near him to be any better, the prick was a thorn in his side. It bothered Darius that Dominic was what he could be if he didn’t give a shit about the sanctity of life. They shared the same hungers, but what Darius only took with consent and respect, Dominic was not afraid to steal. Two paths in life that had diverged long ago.

He changed his course and headed towards the noises. He could see them prowling up and down his fence. They knew better than to test the silver tipped cold iron spikes coming from its surface. Not to mention they knew exactly whose land this was. They dared not enter. He’d make it a very unpleasant experience for them. He wondered what their issue was, and then he saw her.

A human woman, blonde hair huddled just inside his property. She rose and soldiered on. It looked as if she were heading across his property away from the wolves and towards the fae lands, where he had just come.

He could smell her blood, she was wounded. He watched her walking, unsteady at best on her legs which obviously was where she was injured. He admired her spirit that she soldiered on.

He stepped into her path. “You are injured,” his voice was a deep bass rumble, flavored with some distant accent. “May I help you?”

 

[sweetheart97]

The rain continued, and she didn't see anybody. Time pass, minutes, then half an hour, and she finally stood up, putting on her pack. Maybe it is broken, she thought as she whimpered on her other leg. She wasn't sure if she had stopped bleeding. She didn't dare check, since her hands were covered in mud.

Cassandra started walking, and to call her unsteady was polite. She weaved as though she were drunk. Just one step after another. She'd be safe soon, or so she believed. The Fae would protect her. They didn't feed on humans, and right now, that was all she needed. She carried the pencil in front of her, as if it were a dagger.

She thought her heart was going to stop when Darius stepped in front of her. She almost walked straight into him. She took a step back. No, no, no. She couldn't have gotten this far just to be caught now. She held the pencil in front of her, her arm extended, but there was still about three feet to even reach Darius. Cassie knew enough to be cautious.

"Stay back! I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to!" Her heart pounded. She was terrified, more than when she was climbing. Her arm shook. She listened, and shook her head. "It's just a flesh....wound," she said as the world seemed to spin.

Cassandra felt dizzy. Darius' voice was beautiful, and she couldn't place the accent. "I just...I just need to sit for a minute," she told the vampire, shaking her head when he asked if he could help her. She couldn't let a vampire help her. The ground was so far away. She reached out with the hand that didn't have the pencil, sitting carefully so that she didn't hurt her leg more. She took off her pack, sitting it next to her. She kept the pencil trained on the vampire. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have him take a look at her leg. Not the bleeding one, she knew what was wrong there.

She sighed, a single breath showing her frustration. "Do you know how to tell if something is broken?" she finally asked. Cassandra pointed to her left leg. "One of your neighbors has traps out. I didn't see it in time, and well, you can guess what happened." She extended her leg, watching. "Please just tell me if it's broken, and I'll be on my way." The pencil stayed trained on Darius.

 

[The_gladiator]

Darius watched her struggle, listened to her words and actually laughed. “Just a flesh wound. Let me guess, and if I come over, you’ll bite my legs off too, right? “He seemed to find the Monty Python reference hilarious. The blood drunk certainly not helping his He Man vampire image. “What’s that thing you keep waving at me anyway.”

He stepped closer, hands up palms out letting her know he meant her no harm. His chuckles continued as he saw that it was a pencil she held. “Yes, I can tell if your leg is broken. Fear not, I mean you no harm.”

As he knelt close to her, he looked up at her, the moonlight reflecting the green of his eyes. “You cannot harm me with that, so save your energy.” He looked at her for a long moment and spoke, “After all I am wearing my pencil armor…” here he tapped his chest, where he wore a button-down dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled back over his strong forearms. “I think this one is 55% cotton, 45% polyester,” he added offhand. He flashed her a quick smile, not wide enough to show fang.

He captured her booted left foot in his strong hands. Though his grip was firm it was also gentle. “Let me look,” he purred, his voice now a low seductive rumble, no longer mocking her, as he was trying to calm her long enough to look at the wound. His right hand shackled her ankle holding her still as the left pushed up her pant leg. His excellent night vision took in the wound, but most of it had to be done by touch in the dark, and he probed the injury with gentle fingers.

“Extensive bruising,” he murmured half to himself half to her. He probed a bit more firmly. “Puncture wounds probably from the steal jaws, the tibia and fibula seem unbroken. I will want to examine it more in proper lighting, and clean and bandage the “Flesh wound” on the other leg.” He looked up briefly at his words flesh wound shooting her another half smirk.

 

[sweetheart97]

She glared at him for teasing her. "You're a vampire, of course you mean me harm. You drink blood. Yes, I know you are a vampire because..." She stopped talking, realizing that it might not be best to tell the deadly creature how she knew. She raised her chin. "Ticonderoga Number Two Pencil," she stated, as if she were stating the model of gun she was wielding.

The moonlight caught his eyes, which were a very entrancing shade of green. She could have looked into them for hours. She shook her head to clear it. Cassandra could have slapped herself. He was handsome, but a handsome vampire was still a vampire. When he knelt, she scooted away a tiny bit, swallowed, and made a face when she thought he wasn't looking at his pencil armor quip. He'd get no smiles back.

She gasped when he caught her foot. Cassandra swore internally. She never should have sat, she should have ran when she had the chance and now she might not get another chance to run. She dropped the pencil when he firmly held her ankle, no longer fighting him but looking at her leg instead. Her skin was so pale, aside from the bruising. His voice did calm her considerably, and she stopped swearing at herself in her mind. She stopped fighting him so much.

His probing was gentle at first, but she flinched, crying out before she silenced herself with her hand. She let the hand drop, realizing that she was already in a deadly creature's clutches, so muffling sound that would draw the attention of a vampire or werewolf or other creature was a bit redundant.

"Wait...what?" She didn't return the smirk but he had confused her. Take her somewhere with more light...no, no, no, that couldn't happen because more light meant a compound or something and she could not be in one again. "No. You said it's not broken!" Cassandra shook her head, the heady calm effect dissipating.

"One, I already bandaged it. Yes, I know it's not pretty, but I'll fix it when I get where I'm going. Two, why do you care about my other leg?" She didn't ask the last question, which was why she was even alive still. "I'm not coming with you. My "Flesh Wound" is fine. My other leg isn't broken, which you told me, so I can go, I just need to walk more slowly. Now that they're leaving me alone, I can do that." She gestured with her head towards the fence. She tried to pull her leg back, but her strength was tiny compared to his. She took a deep breath to try calming herself. "Please let go of my leg," she demanded of the vampire in a tone of voice that while calm on the surface, was frustrated beneath.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Racist, much?” He commented dryly. “A guy happens to be dead and you see what he gets? I didn’t choose to be dead you know. Did you choose to be short?” he asked.

“And your pencil is far from the ash wood stake that might, and I stress the word Might Harm me.” He stood as he spoke. He scooped her up in his arms Cradling her like a baby. He caught her pack up with the hand that was under her back.

He held her easily as if she weighed nothing. Her struggles would be futile, even if he was blood drunk. “Now, I know you had questions,” He said over her struggles as he walked towards his home. “Let’s start with the fact that I want to look at the other leg because it’s bleeding through that t-shirt and if I can smell the blood, so will those that mean you harm. You are lucky that Scragg’s bunch won’t come in here after you. You owe me at least for that much.” His voice was still low and even. He could have said even more but he was more focused on carrying her. “Please don’t struggle, I seriously do not want to throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, please let me just make this easy on you. However, if you continue to struggle, I will do what I need to assist you.”

He approached the door to His home. He set her on her feet beside the door handing her the bag. His arm was still around her waist supporting her the hand finishing the gesture by capturing her far wrist, his thumb idly stroking over the pulse he found there as he used his free hand to punch the code into his door lock.

When the door opened, he ushered her inside. Bright lights snapped on as the door slid closed behind them with an ominous click. “There is a bench just ahead, please sit, let me have a better look.”

 

[sweetheart97]

"I'm not...that's not...you don't understand what it's like out there for a human right now. And being short is different. It's cute." She narrowed her eyes. "Being dead isn't cute." Cassandra's eyes got wide when he picked her and her bag up. "No, no, no, nonono, put me down, please, put me down," she hiccuped, shaking, clearly terrified as she cried in his arms. She shoved at the brick wall that was his chest. "Owe you? I don't owe you when I cut myself on your fence!" She twisted in his arms. "Please, you don't have to do this, I'm sure that, if you have batteries we can," she stammered, then he mentioned that he would throw her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and she stopped fighting. She couldn't get locked inside with him.

She winced and took her bag, on her feet again in what felt like no time at all. She looked towards the entrance, but felt his thumb on her wrist. It was soothing, and her thoughts of trying to make a break for it melted away. She felt tired, more than in a long time. She stumbled and blinked at the bright lights, the click of the door snapping her out of whatever that was.

She was covered in mud, and not an inch of her clothes or hair were dry. The makeshift bandage was dark red. Little drops of water ran down Cassandra's hair as she actually obeyed the vampire. She dropped her bag, and sat down on the bench, holding on to it.

"Once you look at it, will you let me go, please?" she asked, fighting tears because she thought she knew the answer. When the dressing was off, the wound bled freely. It extended down the inside of her calf, quite deep and needing cleaning.

Cassandra swayed on the bench. Bits of her face, those not covered in mud, were white. "I need...I need to lie down." She struggled to keep herself upright. Her vision blurred, and she felt the world tip. "What ever your name is, please don't kill me, or snack on...my..aorta...." Anatomy was not a strong suit of Cassandra's. She tried to stay vertical and awake, a deep voice sometimes breaking through a weird misty dream land. Why was she mad at him? Who even was he?

 

[The_gladiator]

Whenever he touched her, the touch seemed to help to sooth her. It combined with his soothing voice to help her accept him. However, things like the lights snapping on in the foyer would snap her out of his control. Not that he was deliberately trying to mesmerize her, yet.

He was pleased when she finally just did what he asked and sat on the bench. Then, his hands were on her leg again, this time the other one unwinding the wrappings. “Not bloody likely,” he murmured finally as he observed the gash and the fresh blood that welled up as he exposed the wound. “It needs cleaned, you need cleaned, you need to rest, then we’ll talk.”

He frowned up at her, was she serious? “I can promise you little one, that I will not snack on your Aorta. Breaking the ribs is just so much trouble.”

He swayed a bit. The light was hurting his own sensitive eyes, and that combined with the high he had gotten from the fae blood and he was not quite himself. He got to his feet. He could not clean her here. As it was, she was dripping mud, blood and water all over the bench where people were obviously meant to take off their shoes before storing them in the neat shoe wrack beside it. The room was a strange mix of bunker and home.

He lifted her in his arms again. He pressed her head to his warm shoulder. Warm with the borrowed heat he had found this night. Quick steps carried them to a bathroom, where he unceremoniously began to strip her of her wet and dirty clothing, the pants of which were ruined. He contemplated it and finally removed her panties and bra as well. He kept his eyes respectfully averted. She seemed to be mostly drifting in and out of shock, but even so, he would not be caught checking her out. He could admit to himself that he was curious, the lump in his pants having subsided with the stress, but the burning need in him was not far buried.

He even took steps to protect himself from touching her most sensitive areas. Only brushing a wash cloth over her breasts and between her creamy thighs his eyes watching the water tint pink and brown with the blood and mud as he cleaned her. He considered himself saintly to not cop a single feel that entire bath. The injury helping to curb his desire for her. The gash needed stitches and all the injuries needed cleaned.

He dried her with as much care. “I promise I’m not looking at your assets,” he murmured in his low voice as he dried her blonde locks in a towel, noticing that she seemed more awake in that moment. His green eyes met her blue ones and he let her have some of his power couldn’t have her fight him right now. He would never harm her, would never rape her, but she didn’t know that, and to come to, seated in a chair in front of a vanity while a strange man toweled dry your hair was probably not high on her list of things to have happen to her.

He was certain even the clothing in her bag would be soaking. He finally dressed her in one of his dress shirts, taking care to roll the sleeves back so she could use those small hands. He could tell that the shirt would come well down to mid-thigh or longer when she stood, not that he intended on letting her stand. He took care not to brush her full breasts as he buttoned the shirt.

Finally satisfied that she was as clean as he could get her, dry as he could get her, and the wounds had been cleaned he scooped her into his arms once again. This time he lay her on the scarlet of his sheets. They contrasted nicely with the dark wood of the four-poster frame, and black duvet. There her blonde hair and pale skin contrasted starkly with the bedding. He began to more thoroughly clean the injuries with alcohol and other antiseptics. Then he did something he had not done in a very long time. Darius had worn many hats in life, and this was not the first wound he had stitched. He took care to be gentle but more than once had to meet her gaze with his, urging her to sleep in that soothing voice.

At last, he wrapped the legs, and covered her with the duvet and sheet. Confident she would sleep, he went to his kitchen to prepare hot tea, and perhaps some soup if he could find it. She had to be hungry, and the heat would serve to further wash away the chill that the bath had started to banish.

When he returned to the bedroom, he lifted her so that she lay half propped against the pillows, half against him. His large hand brushed her cheek. “Wake now, you must drink some tea little one,” he urged. With the wound stitched and the others wrapped the pain would hopefully be more manageable, and she would hopefully wake at his urging. She needed to replace the blood loss.

One might ask why was Darius helping this stranger. Something in her called to the healer within. Also, not having to beg Dominic for blood, or bargain with the fae for sustenance might be a welcome thing indeed. Drinking from her would also certainly beat starving. However, he was not Dominic, he would not force her. He would win her. She would see.

 

[sweetheart97]

She blinked when she felt herself lean against him. A warm vampire? She weakly tried to push his hands away once she felt him take her dirty clothes. "I can do it..." The blackness returned and then she was nude and in some very pleasantly warm water.

Her blue eyes kept fluttering closed, color creeping back into her body as he washed away the mud and the cold. Pert breasts buoyant in the water, she shivered when he took a limb out of the warm water, closing her eyes when he put it back in. She whimpered when he cleaned her wounds, but the warmth of the water soothed her enough that she didn't fight.

Blinking as he dried her, she felt strange. Her breath came in quick gasps and her eyes widened. The man, there was a man in front of her and where were her clothes? She remembered where she was, she was in a vampire's house and she needed to get...out. Just as quickly as the terror came, it was gone. She just stared into his green eyes, and felt oddly calm as he dried her hair.

Cassandra felt like she was barely awake when he helped her into one of his shirts. She fumbled with one of the buttons, but couldn't get it and eventually had to let Darius help. She moved to stand up, and for a moment had the sensation that she had stood up much too fast, but Darius had picked her up before her feet touched the ground.

She did hold onto him this time, until he put her down on the bed. Cassandra looked rather puzzled as Darius got the supplies that he'd need for her leg, and she, if she had more energy, would have moved. She tried to sit up and got shushed. She got shushed when she tried to complain she'd get blood on the bed, something so precious she couldn't believe she was on one.

Cassandra's blue eyes met his green ones, and she relaxed. "You have a bed," she murmured quietly. The first bit of cleaning required only a bit of calming from Darius. The stitching took more, though after his voice, it was more like a dream. When he was done, she was well and truly asleep, even before he wrapped her legs.

She grumbled when he lifted her, and swatted at his hand, reaching shakily for the covers that had slid down. She leaned back against him, hoping to sleep, but he kept waking her up. Finally, she woke up, very groggy. "5 more..." There was a tiny, helpless sound as she realized who held her, and tried to piece together the last bit of time. "I'm not a little one, please, I just want to sleep." Holy crap, there were pillows. "Ok, ok...one sip." She took a sip of the tea, meaning to take a tiny sip, but it was really good tea and she didn't realize how thirsty she was.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Always fighting me,” he murmured, “Do you ever just do what you’re told? Do you ever just do what is good for you?” he was grumbling and he knew it. Stubborn as all hell even in her stupor she fought him at first.

Finally, she relented and took a sip of the tea. “That’s it. I must call you little one, I fear that I was not given your name.” he said quite practically. Even as he tilted the tea, cradling her small hands in his own, dwarfing hers but his grip steadied the cup allowing her to drink.

When she had taken the entirety of the cup, he set it down. He wanted to offer her soup but he watched her eyes flutter closed. He had been lucky enough to get her to drink the tea. He had given her something to help her sleep. His powers of hypnosis were strong, but he needed to be sure she didn’t wake in the middle of the day and stake him while he slept. Not that he figured she had something to hurt him. If she had she wouldn’t have been threatening him with what had she called it. Oh Yes, a Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil. He smirked at that memory.

He lay her back down and tucked the blankets up to her chin. He left the soup on the bedside table. He knew he should go see to her things, but now that he was done taking care of her, the fact that he was coming off his own high struck him. He had done much to resist so many things about this woman, the fresh blood, the beauty of her nubile form. He went to his closet and removing his own wet clothing, dressed in somewhat old fashion looking pajamas. She need not fear, he would not hurt her. Even her virtues were safe, for now.

He moved to the far side of the large bed and crawled under the covers. She after all was in his bed, he wasn’t going to sleep on the floor, even if he technically would die at dawn. He just hoped that she would sleep the entire night and not try to get up without him. He suspected that he would not be that lucky, hopefully she wouldn’t break his stuff, yeah, he was ancient but some of his things he actually enjoyed. Hopefully she’d just stay in bed. She was more than welcome to cuddle him. Don’t be an idiot, He told himself, she would never snuggle a corpse, especially one catatonic for the day. Having her pale form pressed close to him did sound lovely though. What a thought to drift off to.

The erection was back, curse that fae bitch, and the beautiful woman near him. However, before he could consider what to do about such lust, dawn sparked across the sky, and like all good little vampires, Darius let paralysis take him.

 

[sweetheart97]

She was a little frustrated that he was being so...kind. It would have been much easier to hate him if he didn't make Monty Python jokes and joke about having pencil armor. Cassandra was getting herself ready to set him straight about being called "little one" when she felt like lead. She fought to keep her eyes open.

"My name is Cassandra," she whispered, as he tucked the blanket around her. "Come here often?" she joked. Then she was asleep.

She woke an hour before dusk. She woke slowly, happily enjoying the bed for a moment or two. Then she remembered how she got into the bed. She froze, and looked to her side. She scrambled out of bed, landing on the carpet and putting as much distance between Darius and herself as she could. A dead body. Did vampires sleep? Was he dead? She looked around, having not thought this through. Her legs, she gently touched a wrapping, seeing just a bit of darkness. Did she pop a stitch? Wait, how had her leg gotten stitched?

Cassandra decided she needed answers. Dragging herself along the carpet was a bad idea, but she could manage a crawl. She was back at the bed, since she didn't know where her pack was. She peeked over the top. He was so still. Blue eyes darted around nearby for something to poke him with. For the next ten minutes, she tried poking him with a lamp, tossing coasters at him like little frisbees, swiping with a cord, none of which gave any information about him except that he was out of reach.

She noticed the soup and sniffed at it, and made a face. Very carefully, she picked it up, and set it aside. Nope, the spoon didn't reach either.

Then Cassandra saw the pillow. She picked it up and smacked the vampire full on in the face with it. She ducked, but nothing happened. There were still 30 minutes of daylight left. About 10 of these were spent with Cassandra just really smacking the crap out of the maybe dead guy's face. Technically he rescued her, but sometimes, you just need to beat a vampire with a pillow.

She was very tired after that much work though. She tried to lift herself back into bed, and this time couldn't get up. Cassandra huffed and sat on the floor for about another fifteen minutes, pondering her options. Finally she sighed, and having exhausted nonbreakable items to use, tried talking.

"I get it, you're teaching me a lesson, but I legit can't get up. Are you dead? You were alive last night. Hey, I could really use your help." No dice, so she smacked him in the face with a pillow and hid. This would continue until he reanimated.

 

[The_gladiator]

Darius made no response to her oh so loving ministrations. If he had been awake, he would have probably had a few choice words for her. He had after all, treated her with the utmost respect.

Precisely when the sun went down and dusk claimed the world, there was a frozen moment in time and then Darius’s chest rose and green eyes opened. His head pounded. It normally didn’t hurt this badly after a Fae blood excursion. The drunk feelings never left a hangover. Just what could be wrong with him?

Then it struck him, a pillow. Directly to the face she struck him. This time though it caused a grunt of startlement. He Snatched the makeshift weapon from her hands. “Is that any way to treat such an item? What did the goose down ever doo to you?” he asked rolling towards her, the pillow trapped under his upper body as he looked down at her now. “Pray tell me, why are you on the floor, and also, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” He had a niggling suspicion he knew why his head hurt now, though. “When did they stop teaching humans how to be a proper guest in a household? When I was your age,” he muttered, this last part more to himself than her, “We weren’t allowed to just go destroying someone’s home, we were grateful for the hospitality.” As he spoke, he made a face and used one hand to pluck a feather out of his mouth.

“Exactly how many times did you hit me young lady for there to be feathers in my mouth?” Even as he bitched, he became aware of the awkward way her legs lay. She clearly could not get up. He was seriously tempted to leave her there, and even went so far as to roll back over like he was going to leave her there, only to roll off the far side of the bed and walk around the bed. The black jammies showing off his own pale skin, his long hair flowing down so it almost blended in with the shirt’s color. He lifted her back into the bed. “Now, can you be trusted with one of these?” he asked as he tucked a pillow behind her head, careful when he lay her down that the shirt did not ride up and accidentally expose her charms to his eyes.

She felt good in his arms for that short moment. His warmth was significantly less today. Fae blood would buy him a couple of days, but even it faded quickly and already pangs of hunger ate at him.

 

[sweetheart97]

The startled grunt made her jump. She hadn't been ready for the pillow to come out of her hands and she actually got lifted off the ground a bit before she let go. Everything hurt when she landed. "Well, you were kind of...dead...and I don't have anything to help myself stand with."

Cassandra crossed her arms. "I was asleep, but I woke up and there was a dead body next to me and I might have overreacted and ended up over near the closet," she pouted. It was his fault she got scared. When Darius spoke of manners, she rolled her eyes. "Those manners probably went out the window when vampires penned up humans." She looked down, picking at a nail. "Is it hospitality or am I dinner because I don't remember a lot of last night but I'm pretty sure I had a different destination in mind."

She actually felt bad for being so harsh. "A couple. Okay maybe for 10 minutes or so. I'm sorry." She looked down at her hands, then up at him. He was even more handsome just out of bed. She was more than distracted watching him walk over, so much so that she didn't fight him or struggle. "Why are you doing this?" She leaned against the pillow. Cassandra stared up at him. He was very handsome. She made herself look away from his eyes. "Also, if you tell me where my pack is, I can dry it out. I'll be out of your hair by sunrise." She was so tired again, but she had to get out of here.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Ten minutes or so?” he said lifting an eyebrow and crossing is arms over his chest. “And you did not think that there was remotely any better use for your energy than to give me a headache? Literally?”

He tucked the sheet around her. “I have not snacked on you. As I said your aorta is safe from me.” And here he chuckled. “So eager to leave. I am not sure what you believe you have to offer the Fae to protect your pretty little ass, but you know you’ll have to bargain with them for your life. I don’t suppose you knew that, did you?”

His eyes considered her the eyes showing more of the brown in them this rising, still ringed by the green. “In my eyes you might be safer here, as I have asked nothing of you except that you be welcome and comfortable.” His voice was reasonable until he shifted to chiding her, “Except you do not seem to have welcomed my hospitality. So far you have, shown yourself to be racist against me because I am dead, have thrown household items at me, broken my favorite lamp shade,” as he spoke he looked around the room as if to find other things she’d done as he ticked points off on his fingers. “Not to mention the amount of times you struck me across the face with a pillow.”

He smirked before delivering his final comment. “Even if I were into S and M little one, I would not chose my pillow as my tool of choice, and…” here he paused for affect, “I am not the one of us that would be receiving the spanking were it to come to that.”

Having said his peace, he reached into a nightstand drawer and produced a small bell. “Do ring this if there is anything I can do for you, and in the meantime, I will leave you to either rest or reflect on your childish ways, whichever your conscience will allow you to do.” His smirk letting her know that this last was at least in part, a joke. He was not offended by any of her actions, more amused at her fire, she had personality that was for sure.

 

[sweetheart97]

She looked at the wall. "I'm sorry. I was frustrated, and..." Cassandra was quiet, kind of angry that the vampire was so arrogant, so...she didn't have words for how frustrating he was. Not only was he laughing at her, but he was treating her like she was made of glass. She pouted at the sheet, but his hands did feel good, her body betraying her. She then looked up, surprised.

"No. You're fucking with me. The Fae help humans. They made the..." She fell silent. They did make the vaccine but she didn't want to advertise her unvaccinated status to the very macho vampire that she had just pissed off. She blushed at 'pretty little ass'.

"How could I be safer here? You literally drink blood." She shrank back into the pillows as he listed her crimes, each one making her feel smaller. When he began to chide her again, her cheeks got red, flushed. "I said I was sorry."

It took her brain a moment to realize what he was talking about with S and M. Perhaps getting caught by a vampire had scrambled her brain a bit. Her heart pounded, though she wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement and she was sure he could hear it. Her blush brightened and her eyes went wide. All she had on was his shirt after all. "You wouldn't," she said, meeting his gaze. She looked away quickly.

Then he pulled out a bell. She was confused. She'd summon a vampire like a servant? "So, I'm supposed to be good and rest here, in your bed, in your shirt and ring a little bell when I need something. That would be me accepting your hospitality?" Cassandra asked. She huffed.

"Ok, ok. I'll rest, but I want to go through my bag." She met his eyes. More brown than green now, but handsome. "Please." She added to the end.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Yes, they made the vaccine. And when you wish to act like an adult, we can talk about why they might have done that. I can assure you it was not out of altruism.” He spoke finally addressing some of her earlier comments since he had sort of ignored them as he had scolded her.

He looked back from the door, “Yes, that is exactly what you should do. Also, yes, I Drink blood. That doesn’t mean I drink blood that is not freely given to me. Do you make a habit of eating food that you did not buy or was not given to you? Do you always assume everyone you meet is a criminal? You probably think I rape women too, why not, clearly I steal blood and have the nerve to not lay down and die just because I happen to be dead.”

Darius opened the door and then looked back over his shoulder. He had previously ignored her response to his spanking comments. He wanted to say something but finally he didn’t, and closed the door behind him.

He walked out to the foyer where they had entered. He found her bag there. He picked it up the lights snapping on as he waved his hand over a motion sensitive plate. He could clearly see the pins on the pack. He at first did not bother to look at them for anything greater than curiosity to learn more about his guest, but then he saw the anti-vaccer pin. He frowned. This meant she was most likely not vaccinated. “You really don’t like to do anything that is in your best interest, do you,” he murmured to himself as he picked up the pack and stalked back towards the bedroom.

Opening it he stepped to the end of the bed, far enough away that he’d be a bit of a stretch or a painful lunge to reach him. “You may have this when I confirm there is nothing in it that can hurt me. I assume there is not, as you were threatening me with a pencil, but one can never be too careful.” He unzipped the pack and began to lay out the items.

The first item was what appeared to be a crude map, with ink smeared by the rain crudely imposing words over the local terrain. He looked at it long enough to snort. “You really believe dragons exist? I suppose you think elves, dwarves and hobbits do as well? “He asked as he saw one territory to the north of his home marked as such.

Laying the map aside, he produced a flashlight that refused to turn on next. He was unsure what the next item was at first, and when he realized what it was, he quickly lay her vibrator aside, and had he had extra blood in his system he would have blushed. The numerous batteries, all of which probably needed recharged, and expired granola bars were not interesting to him. The slim ID carrying case was however. Hazel eyes scanned the ID. “Cassandra DUBOIS,” he said aloud, as if asking a question, he did some math, “You look young for 27,” he remarked. “O Negative,” he continued seeing it listed her blood type, “Tasty,” he added that last bit just to tease her. Smirking at her over the ID.

Setting it aside, he found the rest seemed to be a change of clothes, most of which was damp as everything else. The only thing that was not was the sheer green and gold panties at the center of the bundle. He again felt like a voyeur as he looked at them. However, he made no big deal of them. He did however move towards her.

His hands pulled down the sheet. He held the panties in his hand. “I am going to help you put these on,” he said softly, “Try not to kick me in the face while I help you. You will need my help to get your legs through them and not hurt yourself, and before you object don’t forget who dressed you in that shirt, I have been nothing but a gentleman, let me help you.”

 

[sweetheart97]

She waited until he left before she started to cry. She had stolen food, had to, and now she was in a vampire's home and frustrated. Cassandra dashed the tears away when he came back with the bag. She tried to sit up to reach him but he was just too far away. "I promise there's nothing..."

Too late. She huffed and leaned back against the pillow. As he critiqued her belongings she rolled her eyes. "It's a figure of speech, meaning that we don't know what is there. Or was that before your time?" She snarked back.

She pretended not to see him pick up her vibrator, her own cheeks flushed brightly. Then her ID. "Well, believe it. And that's private and couldn't hurt you." Cassandra swallowed hard when he said she was tasty.

Especially when that remark was followed by him finding the fancy underwear and bra that hid nothing much at all. She watched him move towards her, shaking her head. "I can do it myself," she argued, but his soft voice was already taking the fight out of her. She felt exposed as the sheet slid down, and closed her eyes. "If I don't fight you, you won't hurt me?" She had started to panic before he touched her, but even an innocent touch to her ankle could calm her.

"How do you do that?" she asked, letting him help her with the panties, not even fighting as he covered her again.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Yes, dragons went extinct long before my time,” he murmured as he had sorted through her belongings. However, now, he stood before her panties in hand the sheet pulled down to expose the bandage wrapped legs.

He lay a cool hand on her ankle, smoothing his thumb over her pulse, as if he could automatically find it. “I do not intend on hurting you either way, but yes, it is preferred that you not fight me when I am just trying to help you,” he said as his hands worked gently feeding first one and then the second dainty foot through the legs of the panties.

He then guided them up over her shapely calves, hidden mostly under bandages. “I will want to check the wounds as well this rising.” He said softly. His hands had now crossed her knees and his fingertips barely skirted the outside of her soft thighs as his hands slid under the shirt. He could have let her finish sliding the panties into place but he did not stop, his hands not ceasing their upward movement until he felt them catch against her womanhood and the waistband rested against her hips. He made no effort to straighten entirely, that would be too intimate, that was something he was sure she could take care of.

He sat on the edge of the bed lifting her legs into his lap, beginning to rub her feet as his eyes found hers. It was important circulation continue with her legs and feet so the muscles did not atrophy. “How do I do what, exactly?” he asked. He was fairly sure he knew what she was referring to, but he would make her ask. “Please ask your questions more clearly if you can little one,” he urged as he rubbed her feet.

 

[sweetheart97]

"Rising?" she asked, squirming a little bit as he slid her panties up. She expected to be able to reach them, but he kept sliding them up. She adjusted them as he sat and pulled the shirt and sheet back over, embarrassed. "It was late when you bandaged them yesterday, we don't need..." A look quieted her down and she stopped protesting.

She made another little mewl of protest when he picked up her legs. She started to pull her leg back but his massage felt so good. His touches, his voice, but this was different. "My name is Cassandra and you..ah!" She flinched because of a very sensitive spot on the arch of her foot, but Darius' thumbs worked at it and she relaxed.

"Your touch calmed me, your voice, and when you look into my eyes I can't seem to fight you." She blushed, watching him massage her feet as she nearly fell asleep. She wouldn't admit that she was aroused by his touch more often than not.

A couple minutes went by, and she was brave enough to ask questions, as if his touch made her a touch drunk. "You know, a foot massage isn't standard hospitality." She watched him. "You're not going to let me go, are you?"

 

[The_gladiator]

“Since I rise at dusk, and it’s not a day, my kind often counts our existence in risings rather than days. But it’s more an old-fashioned term. I am showing my age. The cool kids would just call it a night. I even heard a vampire call himself a night owl once.” He spoke in a soothing tone as he worked the ball of her foot. “A lot of running and very little stretching.” He mused to himself as he worked. “My touch sooths because that is my gift. My gaze can hypnotize as can most master level vampires, though I have done my best not to bespell you with my eyes.” He snorted, “There are a lot of things I have tried to do to be sure I am on my best behavior for you little human.”

“Spent a lot of time in the home of many vampires, have you?” he asked curiously, after she had spoken up again. “You know, since you seem to be such an expert on our culture and what is typical hospitality and all. “He was half teasing her again. He seemed intent on throwing all of her assumptions back at her. It was true that it was not normal, but he did have a purpose.

“That being said, this is typical behavior when you are in the hands of a healer. You have abused your body, and now may be bedridden for some time, I do not intend on you ending up crippled on my watch, so you will allow me to tend you.” He said this as if it were fact, that she might as well not even bother to argue, for she would lose. He was clearly used to getting his way. Bossy was an understatement in that moment.

 

[sweetheart97]

She whimpered a little as Darius worked on her foot. He wasn't wrong. Most of her time had been spent running. Cassandra's eyes widened when he told her that not only did his touch soothe, but his eyes did too...and that he was on his best behavior. "Why? It's not..." She frowned. "Those wolves would have dragged me back in pieces. Here you are, you give me a foot rub and..." Another huff. "I just don't understand."

When he asked about the vampires, she got still and her heart pounded. "Technically you're the first because they didn't keep us in the house proper." She pulled the duvet closer. Just to hold it.

Then her eyes widened. "No! I'm not bedridden! I can't be! I can walk, I can..." She flipped her legs over the side of the bed, letting go of the duvet. She froze at his last sentence, and sighed, putting her legs back in the bed under his gaze. She felt small. "How long do I have to stay here?" she asked. "In bed, I mean."

Cassandra watched Darius, wary. "Okay, what are the rules?" she asked.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Those wolves are flunkies. They serve a particularly nasty son of a bitch. They do his hunting for him. In turn he gives them direction and purpose. I would hope I am different than those savages.” There was fire in his tone. It was clear that he and the wolves were not on good terms.

She had made an offhand comment that he had ignored at the time. However, after she had her little outburst where she tried to run and then climbed back into bed, he found his mind revisiting it. Her suddenly cowed behavior spoke of something, something that was related to her words about not being kept in the house proper. She was a sheep. She was a part of some vampire’s flock, or had once been. Sad understanding swept over his face.

As he worked to finish releasing the knots in her foot, he knew what he needed to do. Each master vampire who considered himself a shepherd marked his flock, just as if they were truly livestock. The closest Shepherd was Dominic. Different vampires placed their brand in different places. He knew where Dominic’s mark would be placed and when he was finished with this task, he would check her for it.

“You will be bedridden as little as possible. I will help you to the lady’s room in just a moment, we will make sure we get you walking as soon as possible.”

He leaned across her body, scooting a bit closer. Before she could jerk away, he had caught her left wrist. He was surprised he hadn’t felt it the night before. As soon as he turned her arm over, he could see the remnants of Dominic’s brand. It was crisscrossed with self-injury scars and burns, clearly painting a picture of her pain, and her desperate attempt to hide the mark. However, the top of the d and half of the circle the d was inside were still plainly visible. The whole pattern there if he touched it with his fingertips which he did next, just to confirm it was true. “You seem to be just as acquainted with the son of a bitch the wolves serve as I am,” he said softly. Knowing that that wasn’t true, no one knew his brother like he did, but she clearly knew more than he had expected. “This is old though. You escaped and were recaptured. Your fear is too strong for this to be your only mark of ownership. This was placed and defaced long ago. Tell me little one, where is the other mark. Let me see it. Please do not make me search for it. I would like to know exactly who I will be protecting you from. You owe me that at least for protecting you.”

 

[sweetheart97]

Her foot felt better than it had in ages, and despite being tired, sore, she was feeling a little better.

She was confused as he leaned across her, tilting her head but when he grabbed her wrist she shrieked, tugging at it. "Nonononononono I won't go back, no, please," she whimpered, but as his fingers traced it she shivered. "Wait...you know him?" she asked, no longer fighting. Cassandra shook her head.

"Please don't make me." Blue eyes met his, and she looked away first. "I don't think it will help you much." She sighed, squirming underneath him. "Um, the mark is on me, and you are on me...I'm not running." When Darius got the idea, Cassandra sat up. High up on her outer left thigh was a brand, a square with an S inside, but someone had held a heated blade to the mark, hiding half of it. She looked away. The scars for this brand were new. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Please don't make me go back, please." She met his eyes, only for a bit. "I'll follow the rules, if you tell me what they are. Please. They'll kill me." Death probably would have been a blessing, since humans were too rare to simply kill.

 

[The_gladiator]

“Yes,” he said his voice soft and soothing in stark contrast to her panic. His fingertips stroked over the pulse in her wrist. “I know him. I would never return you to him.” He said softly. He was sure she might not believe him.

He moved back so she could show him. When He realized it was on her opposite thigh, he gently pulled her towards him until she lay on her side facing him. This put her left thigh up.

His fingertips were gentle as he pushed up the shirt. He took in the mark, and the crude attempt to disguise it. He recognized this mark as well. “Sampson,” he murmured. “Sick son of a bitch.”

Some vampires weren’t just shepherds of humans. Some liked to take liberties with their sheep. Sampson was one like that. Dominic might force a woman now and then, but coercion was more his style. Sampson was, and had never been above rape.

He pulled his hands away from her hip, pulling down the shirt. His eyes met hers and there was concern there. “Were you part of his special flock?” he asked softly, hoping that she would say no. Fearing the truth.

 

[sweetheart97]

The world seemed to tilt a little bit when his voice soothed her, his fingers somehow helping her focus and calm down.

Cassandra wrapped her arms around her body, shaking as Darius touched the mark. "I didn't know anything could hurt that much," she whimpered. "They covered our eyes so we didn't know it was coming and please, I don't want that again please don't send me back," she begged, crying as she pleaded with Darius.

He knew about everything it seemed. Sampson's special flock. "Yes, but it didn't turn out as planned. I.." She couldn't quite say it, she'd have been flayed for certain by other courts for what she did. "I'm fine. I...didn't serve."

Then she met his eyes. She swayed, trying to break free. "That was a lie. I was in the special flock, but one day, maybe three days ago, I got a knife. And when it was time, my time, I slit his eyes." She told her story calmly, meeting his eyes. As long as she had eye contact she wouldn't panic. After all, vampires did heal if they had blood. "I'm an awful person, but I ran, grabbed what I could and he sent things after me." She was having trouble, panic fighting through his calming aura.