A/N: I'm not dead, I swear. And yes, in the chapter where I referred to Tynan as Mr. Harry-face, I meant to put Mr. Hairy-face. So no, in fact, I do not proof anything. Slap me on the wrist if you wish. And yes, in case you wonder after this chapter, Fi has changed her personality along with me. She's a little dark this time 'round.

Thirteen

"This isn't going to teach me anything, Corbin," I said softly. He smiled gently at me as he locked the shackles into place on my wrists and ankles, as if he were watering flowers or baking cookies. The chains were heavy on my wrists, instantly making them drop to my sides. I had been there for about three weeks and had yet to learn anything except that vampires are sadistic and even a bit masochistic. I hadn't learned how to fight or defend myself and I certainly wasn't standing up any better to vampire influence.

But it was definitely getting me to wonder why the hell I needed to be able to stand against vampire influence without flinching. Why the hell did I need to know? If I was killing human beings, would it even be necessary later on? It seemed exceedingly odd the more that I thought of it. I resolved to ask Big Boss if I saw him. Was I actually working for the government? I seriously doubted it. And it made me cringe at how unbelievably naive I had to have been to accept it as truth in the first place.

Which brings me back to the manacles.

"What is this supposed to be showing me?" I asked, irritated at his lack of response. He rarely answered questions. It was as if he knew that his silence drove me insane. My body had resigned itself to him, but my mind hated it. He ran his knuckles down my cheek and I whimpered. He grinned. I beat myself up about it, my weakness, my girlish crush. He had made me completely smitten about him in between point A and point B. My wrists were practically pinned to my sides, so I couldn't fight him when he placed a hand on either side of my head and leaned close to me. His stormy eyes caught me, glittering, like a spider laughing triumpantly as he wraps his prey in a sticky cocoon.

"Why question me, Fiona?" he purred in my ear. His voice so close to my neck made me shiver. My mind was repulsed and screaming obscenities at me for being so damned susceptible to him. He kissed my throat, making my breath catch. He smiled against it, his cruel lips barely turned up at the corners, and I could feel the irregular incisors beneath, hard and sharp as rusted nails. He leaned into my body, closer. A soft whimper on my part. He left my throat, in favor of my lips. He persistently kissed me, waiting for the moment where I would break.

"Stop," I gasped. He only kissed harder, violently. I could taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth, prompting me to grimace. But I couldn't stop myself from responding. I attempted to reach out to him, though my arms were weak enough that it burned to move them too far. I could hear my little moans. I hated myself for it. I was just his sex slave. "Stop," I begged again. And just like that, he was away from me, standing about five feet away. My body cried out for him and lurched forward in the shackles to go to him. He smiled.

"It will help you learn self control," he replied. I couldn't even remember if I had asked him a question. My mind was only concerned with wanting him, so much that it blocked out any other function. It howled at its dependence on him, on how much it thought of him. I woke and thought of him, worried of where he was. This was not teaching me self control. It was teaching me obsession.

"Is this what you did to my father? Kiss on him?" I hissed, unable to hide the venom in my voice. He laughed and casually resumed kissing me. I immediately leaned forward towards him, grudgingly. He was like a drug and every part of me wanted him. He drifted backwards and I glowered and slid down the wall at my back. My arms were completely vertical as I sulked. I was being reduced to a mindless piece of chattel.

"Your father went to someone else. I didn't have the pleasure of toying with him." He paused, gazing meaningfully at me. "Your hair has grown back at an alarmingly fast rate. And with a bit of friendly encouragement from the food, you are beginning to look less like a cadaver and more like a lovely young seductress. You will lure many a victim, je crois. Though that can present other problems along the way. Such as ovulation. And, as a matter of principal, I refuse to rip out your ovaries. But if you bleed here, you might die." He sighed, occupied with the dilemma.

I could feel myself blushing. Silly thing, it's like I missed out on all those years of ridicule by my peers and puberty. They catch up rather quickly with you. I knew I was supposed to get a period. My personal studies locked in the house had shown me that. But I had never gotten one. I suppose it was because I was malnourished. Either way, I almost hoped that my womb closed up shop. I did not want to be ripped apart by Corbin's cronies. No, he is not a one man show. He has about ten vampire friends that like to bite me as well.

"I suppose I can worry with that when it presents itself," he assured me. As if I would feel reassured by his words. He smiled in an ambiguous way. "Ready for company?" He didn't expect me to answer him. I stared stonily ahead at the huge gothic windows about thirty feet away from me. The cool tile of the floor beneath felt smooth compared to the strange bricks that composed the wall. It was almost like being tortured in a medieval castle only I was not put in iron maidens and there was no threat of being hung. There was no furniture in the room. Just windows, shackles, me and Corbin.

I became alert when I heard voices. Corbin smiled encouragingly at me and left to greet his company as they arrived. I bitterly wondered how many bites I would suffer. They filed in dropping coats in the floor, rolling back sleeves, and eyeing me intently. I noticed that they were primarily men, but there were several women. As they kept coming in, I began to panic. There were only so many bites that I could take. And where in the world would they find room for all these marks? Oh God.

And then I saw the most beautiful man walk through the door. It was either the best or worst day of my entire life. Iain. He had no jacket on and his marble skin was whiter than anyone's in the room. He was absolutely radiant. His pure blue eyes met mine. Had he come to kill me? To take me away from all of this? To finally grant me the reprieve of nothingness?

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my humble abode. And please, drink your fill," Corbin said pleasantly, his eyes burning into me. I stood slowly, knowing that my eyes were huge and my pupils were probably the size of pinpoints. And, as if there had been some sort of bell, as if they were Pavlov's dogs,they rushed forward, giving me little chance to try and slap any of them away.

Fangs sank into me everywhere. My mind was reeling with the shock, the temptation pulled in so many directions. Some kissed my lips with my blood on their lips, others did not. I felt a bit beneath my rib cage and gasped in pain. My arms were marked repeatedly. Strangely, no one touched my throat. My head whirled. This was not teaching me self control. This was teaching my brain pain management. It was only then that I began to feel the chill against my skin.

"Iain," I breathed after one of the vampires roughly kissed me, leaving me with a bloody lip. I caught sight of Corbin standing near the doorway, still pleasant and gazing contently at me. I saw my breath come in little puffs. It was only then that I realized I was breathing faster than usual. "Make it stop," I pleaded. "Please." It felt as if my fingers and toes were freezing. I knew that my vampire counterparts, whether biting me or not, could feel it as well. I was shivering to preserve heat.

Some disgruntled vampires moved away, nonplused. They were grabbing their coats with expressions of disdain and hunger. I looked absently at the stars through the gothic window and then back at the porcelain vampire in front of me. "Iain," I whispered unintelligently. I saw his lips move quickly, but they returned to his perpetual frown too fast for me to tell whether he was upset or happy. The cerulean of his eyes was so clear and beautiful.

I'm going to die, I thought absently. But at least I can see the stars.