I screamed, high-pitched and undignified, as Tom collapsed at my feet.

It took me a moment to realize he had only collapsed, not turned into a pile of goo. Tears streamed down my face—tears of fear, grief, and most of all, relief. Across from me stood Eric, panting heavily, his hand bloodied but, to my immense relief, not clutching Tom's torn-out heart.

He had spared him.

However, my relief was short-lived. 

Before I had time to recover from the shock, Eric was on me again. He grabbed me, slamming me against the nearest wall, his blood-smeared forearm pressing against my throat, the sticky blood of my former lover coating me, making me nauseous. 

"Why did he call you Annie?" Eric snarled, a wild panic flickering in his eyes. I had never seen him this restless before. I couldn't answer—partly because he was choking me (again), but mostly because I didn't want to. 

Everything that had crashed into my life and steamrolled me because of Eric had already taken too much from me. This small memory, this nickname, was mine. I had shared it with Tom, and that was already biting me in the ass. If I was giving away any more of me, I would soon stop existing...

Eric's grip on my throat tightened, as did the pounding in my head. My eyes felt like they might burst from their sockets. Giving in wasn't an option. He leaned closer, growling, and if I had had the air, I might have growled back, even though I was clearly in the worse, nearly hopeless, position. Sometimes I was stupidly stubborn like that. 

"Damn it, Eric, let go!" I gasped, struggling for breath. Slowly, his grip eased, though his gaze remained wild. A calculated, controlled Eric was already dangerous enough, but this version of him, unhinged and homicidal, terrified me. 

Still, I'd rather take my chances with this almost-murderous Eric than spend another minute in this hellhole.

His grip loosened just enough for me to breathe, though he still held me off the ground. At least he wasn't actively trying to crush the life out of me anymore—a small victory. 

Moving my feet, dangling in the air, was no option. Kicking him would probably only result in me breaking me feet or him choking me again. So I did the only thing I could think of. I cupped Eric's face in my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes. To my surprise, he didn't resist but allowed it. Strange.

"We need to get out of here," I whispered. His gaze remained fixed on me, his stare an ominous mix of looking at me and looking straight through me. 

Seeing Eric so passive, so quiet, scared the hell out of me. This whole ordeal had left me with more questions than answers, and my heart had been shattered—figuratively, thank God, not literally like what had almost happened with Tom. And whatever "relationship" or connection I had with Eric now seemed irreparably broken. The only question left was whether he would help me escape or throw me to the wolves—or rather, the vampires. I hoped for the former, if only to spite the bastards who had trapped us here and get some answers he seemed to be yearning for himself. 

My thoughts raced as I sensed we were being watched. Every gaze in the room bore into us, though for different reasons. Tom still lay unconscious on the floor. James's eyes flicked between his brother and us, filled with hate, grudging admiration and jealousy. Monroe lounged on a chaise, feigning dominance and ease, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. And the little girl with tear-swollen eyes gazed up at Eric like he was her hero. 

That did it. I didn't know when or why, but I saw it—I saw myself in that girl. I could've been her once, looking up to some authority figure, desperate for protection, regardless of how dangerous they were. God, I didn't just see her as I once was; I saw myself in her even now. I wanted nothing more than to be rescued from this nightmare, to go home and collapse in bed, crying. Ironically, I wanted that old Eric back—the one with the sharp wit and lewd comments. The ruthless Viking who'd bulldoze through anything to get what he wanted and then leave you on your doorstep, shaking, when he was done with you, instead of pretending to be decent.

I wanted a dark angel, not a white knight.

As I grappled with the realization of how much trust I had put in Eric, the world around us seemed to stir.

"For God's sake, this isn't worth it," Monroe grumbled, getting up in one swift movement, heading toward the little girl.

"You can't protect them both, Viking!"

Eric bared his teeth in a savage, inhuman gesture and hurled me toward the girl, putting himself between us and Monroe.

Bodies collided, too fast for me to follow, as a fight erupted. I saw James hesitate, torn between Monroe and us. He took a step toward us, and I did the only thing I thought might buy us time. I leaned over Tom's limp, bleeding body and pressed my hands into his wound. His eyes fluttered open, and he screamed in pain. Despite everything, it still hurt me to cause him more suffering. A shiver ran down my spine as I blindly fumbled in his wound, preventing it from healing, and keeping James and Tom from joining the fight between Eric and Monroe. I bit down hard on my lip.

He'll heal. He'll be fine. This is temporary. After what he did, he deserves to suffer...

I kept repeating it to myself, resisting the urge to pull my hand away and bandage him. Somehow, it worked. James's gaze instantly locked on us, a mix of anger and concern, and he abandoned his path to Eric and Monroe to rush toward his brother.

Seizing the moment, I yelled at the girl.

"Run!"

She bolted for the door. James whipped his head around, following my gaze. He was about to lunge after her when another deafening bang from the entrance stopped everyone in their tracks. The door had been blown open, and two hulking men from earlier tumbled into the room. Behind them strode a furious, pink-clad blonde woman with a murderous grin.

Pam.

I had never been so relieved to see the killer Barbie. She glanced at her nails, shouting at one of the remaining goons, who had just moments ago been a 150-kilo vampire.

"I just got my nails done! Do you know how annoying it is to have to go back tomorrow?" she snarled.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat as I looked back at the girl. Thank God, she was smart enough to hide under a side table near the chaise and then dart past the distracted vampires. I prayed Tina was on her lunch break and that the girl could make it out of this hellhole.

My hopes lifted as I watched Pam, with effortless grace, drive her stiletto heel into the heart of one of the gorilla-sized bodyguards. He dissolved into goo—it had to be wood.

Pam spotted me, and if she had been human, her face would've turned red with fury. I could almost hear her voice in my head, threatening to kill me for putting her Maker in danger. I swallowed hard, but before I could react, the ground beneath me vanished. I wanted to scream, but long fingers covered my mouth, and the familiar electric sensation of his touch told me exactly who was holding me.

"Do you trust me?" Eric's voice whispered in my ear, his body pressed tightly against mine.

"Holy shit, no!" I shouted, my eyes wide. Eric smirked. "Right answer."

He had grabbed me by the sides and leaped into the air, dodging a charging goon who would have crushed me. Still holding me, he continued our strange little conversation, holding me tight about 10 feet above the ground in this huge, castle like, ballroom,  making the most of the brief pause Pam's surprise entrance had granted us.

"Let me rephrase," he said, biting into his own wrist and holding the wound to my face, his blue eyes glowing with an intense hunger. "Do you want to make it out of here alive?"

Well, that was a different question. I had only seconds to decide. Every moment I hesitated, his wound began to heal right infront of my eyes. The chaos surrounding us wasn't slowing down either. I looked into his eyes, those deep blue eyes, and trusted my gut. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to the open wound. It took every ounce of willpower I had to lick the blood from his wrist. The taste of iron was revolting—at first. 

I didn't want to hurt him, but the sounds he made as I licked the blood sounded like anything but pained. He pressed harder against me, his breath heavy in my ear as a low moan escaped his lips. Something shifted against my stomach. Oh. Oh no. He was... he was getting off on this?

A shiver ran through me from head to toe as I pulled my lips from his wrist—though not without one final lick to ensure the wound had healed. He groaned deeply. That... was something. I blinked, breathless, staring up at him. His eyes burned with blue fire. I almost gave in to the desire written all over his face, but I was more aware of our surroundings than he seemed to be. Red goo, likely vampire remains, splattered noisily against the wall to our left, and I flinched. 

My heart raced, every nerve ending buzzing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric struggle to regain control. Or so I thought—until he yanked me closer.

"Eric!" I shouted, but he had already flown us into an adjoining  room, pinning me between the wall and his solid frame. Behind him, something exploded, and he groaned again. This time, it wasn't a sound of pleasure, though his arousal was still painfully obvious, pressed firmly against me. Grinding into me. Still... growing? Jesus, exactly how much heat was he packing?

He pulled me into a searing kiss, intense and unapologetic. Fireworks went off inside me.

"I'm beyond furious with you," Eric growled, kissing me passionately. His tongue mingled with mine as his extracted fangs grazed my lower lip. I shivered all over, goosebumps erupted before Erics traveling hands followed their path along my body hungrily. Hot flashes tingled my whole body. Erics form pressed me into the wall, pressed me unto my tiptoes, letting me feel every single delicious muscle of his against me, firm and strong even through our close. This time I was the one moaning desperately, my core clenching, wanting, yearning. 

His lips traveled lower, along my jaw to my ear while his hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, holding me in place. Cold his breath tickled my neck as he whispered: "Explanations later." His tongue darted out, licked my ear, bit my earlobe and as my knees actually buckled, he held me steadfast, holding my head in place. 

I gurgled a pretty unladylike sound when suddenly, his teeth punctured my neck and he sucked. 

Boy, did he suck. 

Eventhough his mouth was at my neck, his steady sensual sucking didn't feel like he was on my throat. Instead, with ever strong pull of his it felt more and more like his mouth was between my legs, teasing, liking and sucking on the sensitive flesh. Hot and heavy my blood kept pumping through me and with each pull of his, my knees buckled more, my moan turned deeper, more desperate. I think I might came a little and couldn't hold back the frustrated, angry growl when he eventually pulled his teeth from my artery, even though I was already more than light headed. I wanted him to continue. Badly enough to risk being bleed dry. 

Lids almost to heavy to lift I looked at him, feeling achy and unsatisfied, empty with a need to be filled. When he put me back on my feet this time in an attempt to put me back down, I was the one holding onto him as my knees had turned into jello. I was also swaying to the side. 

Eric held me stead another few seconds, his gaze a mixture of worry and stupid male pride he tried poorly to hide behind a smile. He looked almost... sheepish? I shook my head, convinced I had finally lost my sanity. Eric didn't do sheepish. As I looked again, the expression was gone. 

"You good?"

"Hmpf." Not my most eloquent answer thus far and not the tirade of curse words I had wanted to throw at his head for biting me without permission. But in my defense, the blood hadn't yet returned to my head. 

Apparently my grunt was enough to ensure him as he shrugged his shoulders and turned around to throw himself head first back into the fight surrounding us with a war cry. 

I, on the other hand, sunk back against the wall in my back, my legs barely keeping me upright, yet alone caring me another step forward. 

What the hell was happening?

I ducked just in time, when something fleshy was flying in my direction, flashing against the wall in my back with a disgusting thud. 

Right. 

War.