C H A P T E R  F I F T E E N

{A Hellish place like Santa Carla...and the creatures that go bump in the night}

Hesperia's POV

"I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk, bud!"

That was what I heard as I woke up.

Ow. Fuck.

My head was pounding and the excited, masculine voice basically screaming made it thrum with such shocking pain that I felt like I was gonna puke.

"Well you're so aggravating that a selective mute would miraculously break their silence to tell you to shut your loud ass mouth." Another masculine voice, husky and considerably quieter rebutted.

Dwayne.

Like the flick of a switch things rushed back to me. Them cornering me in that alley, convincing us to go to the cave, having a decent time before David pulled some voodoo shit on me and mind drugged me. Paul and Marko had gotten too overzealous and felt me up, they'd fucking trapped Cassius and then Marko had scared the shit out of me enough to knock me out.

I still can't believe it. Vampires.

"He's got you there, Paul." Speaking of the little imp, that was him. Except he wasn't little, or cute or adorable anymore. He was one of my sleep paralysis demons, now. Perhaps the scariest one.

"Shut your mouth, Marko. You're just as irritating as me." Paul huffed and I discerned through the distance of where their voices were coming from that I was still on the couch, Marko was still on here with me and Paul was back on his respective couch, smoking away at yet another joint.

Jesus, how did this kid function?

Dwayne had to be further away, probably across the cave by the entrance and David was God knows where.

Maybe, they assumed when I woke up I'd make a run for it and he was there to stop me?

Shit. Things just got infinitely more difficult.

"How exactly am I as fucking annoying as you with all of your endless sexual innuendo's and stupid, unimaginative nicknames?" Marko haughtily demanded, as if the very idea of him being annoying was ludicrous.

"Know your birds?" Paul scoffed, and I heard a whoosh of air like he'd thrown his arm out. "Yeah, Hitchcock. You might think they're cute but theres nothing sweet about having to clean their fucking shit off my stuff everyday!"

"Whatever, man. You're just mad because Eevee has a grudge against you." Marko spoke uncaringly and though I was afraid for my life, I couldn't help but 'aww' in my head. Eevee, like the pokemon. That was cute.

"Yes! I am! No one else sees how evil that pigeon is but me!" Paul cried in evident distress and I found it hard to believe a pigeon of all things could terrify a vampire so badly.

"You pulled out her feathers to use as decorations for your abominably hideous windchimes!" Marko snarled with so much more ferocity than Paul had.

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"Did too."

"Did n–"

"Shut the fuck up before I rub both of your faces in their shit to teach you a goddamn lesson!"

David. My blood ran cold and simultaneously the cave dropped into a terse silence, slightly broken by the churning waves raging away outside. It carried on for a while, unusual for the four men to be so quiet before...

"Did not."

I could just see how incensed David must have become from Paul's small, victorious mumble and the stoner squealed unpleasantly like a pig when something was thrown at him. I heard it clatter against the ground and Paul's outraged yell follows but seconds later.

"Dude! What the fuck?! Why are you attacking me?!"

"Because Marko's possessions in this cave are basically just his birds and I don't hurt animals. Your ugly windchimes, however, are fair game."

"You know, I won't take this abuse much longer." Paul declared in a whiny voice and I heard him pick up the windchime, tutting under his breath. "You broke the skull shell, dude. The holy grail. I'm never gonna find one like it again!"

How did a man like him, a psychopath, manage to contain all of the traits and behaviours of a child and manage to be so...fucking frustratingly and charmingly endearing because of it?

"Tough shit." David growled, sounding too close for my comfort. His stupid fucking chair must be where he'd last left it. "No ones going anywhere until she wakes up. The shit's gonna hit the fan and we are all going to have to be here to deal with it." His tone was dripping with annoyance and authority.

Paul must have been distracted because David lowered it dangerously. "Do you understand me, Paul?"

"Crystal clear, boss." Paul said in a military voice and I could just see him stupidly saluting his acrid leader or talking into an imaginary walkie talkie.       

There was a beat of that silence so unnatural to them all, a suspicious hum and then the shuffling of feet moving closer to me. I stayed perfectly still, keeping my breathing in check to feign sleep.

I felt the sudden chill of someone's shadow shroud over me, leeching any warmth from my body and the vicinity around it. Little pinpricks assault my skin, thousands of tiny needles alerting me to danger; whichever ingrate it was who had wandered over to me...they were staring.

Anxiety lurked within me, a sickly monster disturbed by the thought of having to confront them and I try so hard not to move a muscle or to breathe irregularly, but I should have known you can never fool a vampire.

He laughed to himself as if someone had uttered something hilarious and I fail in my plans of inconspicuously hiding my consciousness when his cold, ring bearing fingers encase themselves on my jaw to tilt my head towards him, the cold from his clunky jewellery biting at the flesh underneath it.

Paul.

He pressed his thumb to the skin under my eyes and swiped it gently. In horror, I felt under his touch that my cheeks were wet. Had I been crying silently this whole time?

"I know you're awake, baby."

Not your baby, I want to scream at him–at them all, but it would drop me in the shit if I did.

I had to play this carefully, learn the things they are obviously keeping secret and then I'd find my brother. Somehow, I'll get us out of this.

He started crooning at me in a sugary voice when more tears spilled down my cheeks from behind my closed eyes. My lips quivered with the effort to try to be quiet, his thumb stroking the lower one, bitten raw by anxiety. "Hey, Shhhh. Come on girl. Don't. No crying Ria. Open those pretty eyes for me, babe."

A stab of pain pierced my heart at the nickname and he passed a hand that made me feel sick against the tear stained skin in tandem with Marko–who had my legs on his lap much like he had earlier–who resumed his pattern of nauseatingly comforting caresses.

I listened begrudgingly. It would have happened anyway, I'm not going to let myself suffer needlessly and prolong the inevitable.

Paul was lent over me, that's the horrific sight I'm greeted with when my vision evens out. He was too close for comfort, grinning broadly, teeth on display in resemblance to a hyena and I actually could feel it as my heart dropped into my stomach.

Seeing no pretence to hide anymore or maybe he frankly just didn't care or realize; his yellow eyes were on full show and I half expected this to be a nightmare...they made him look demonic enough for it to be.

He was cooing at me, playing ignorant to the shaking of my hands and the sheen of cold sweat on my moon pale skin, nearly translucent from that very same celestial bodies light bathing over me and the sickness of my fear.

His hands travelled dangerously lower to touch over my heart, alarmingly close to feeling me up as he spoke in velvet tones. "There they are. Aren't you a pretty girl, Ria?"

Gnashing my teeth in a snarl, I peeled my lips back and hissed at him, "I'm not a fucking parrot–and don't call me that. Better yet, let me the fuck go you psychotic lunatics!"

That raucous cackle of his that burst from him was starting to become something of a horrific detail, like the soundtrack to the horror movie my life had become.

He wasn't alone in his sick joy as two other laughs accompanied his, cold and unfeeling. The only one not humoured by my horrendous and unfair predicament was Dwayne, standing feet away where I predicted he'd be, his face turned away and I'm somewhat comforted that he seemed just as disgusted by these three clowns as me.

Paul shook his mane of hair and when he bestowed his eyes back upon me, there was still that unsettlingly sick joy in them. He stretched his arm in faux courtesy toward the gaping maw of the cave exit, bowing his head and body theatrically, the black tailcoat making him look like some distinguished gentleman.

His face veiled by his hair, he said, "By all means, baby, have at it. No one's stopping you."

A catch. There had to be one. They'd gone to all of this effort to get us here and they were just going to let me go? It was too good to be true but I had to try. If I got out, I could find help–someone to aid me in saving Cas.

In the end the catch–the game–was that David's spellbinding trance hadn't stopped. It was like I was in hospital and I was being supplied with constant drugs through a drip, except this was real life and I had eaten nothing, drank nothing–he hadn't touched me. I'd had a singular puff on a joint, but that was nowhere near enough to make me catatonic.

How the fuck were they doing it?

Despairing as I attempted to lift my body and arms to no avail at all, as all three blond men laughed and mocked me for thinking it would be that easy, I lost it.

My face screwed up unattractively and I just...let it all out–the sadness, fear, worry and painful regret that we had done this to ourselves. My emotions were so disordered that they spiralled out of my control and I couldn't stop crying if I wanted to. Harsh sobs, fat tears and now I was even on the brink of a panic attack...and I can't even move to console myself.

They were utterly insane, because where seconds beforehand they'd literally been laughing at me in all of my misery, my tears made David perpetually angry.

My eyes weren't open to see, but I could imagine in my mind, the vicious snarl curling over his mouth animalistically as he shouted at Paul. "You fucking brainless cretin, Paul! Thanks. You've just made my job ten times harder."

"Yeah, nice going asshat." Marko huffed in agreement while kissing my knuckles, shushing me like he hadn't been the one in here to terrify me the most.

"You were both laughing too! Don't pin this all on me!" Paul defended, cursing as my cries grew louder. I fumbled away from his touch the best I could when he attempted to soothingly rub my arm.

"None of you should have laughed." Dwayne intoned seriously and they stopped their yammering over who was more at fault for my suffering in favor of presumably looking at him. "There's nothing funny about this. Do you not understand what your behaviour, the way you've all treated her...what it's going to do?" He snapped as he approached and pushed past Paul violently.

His arms worked their way under my body, ignoring Marko when he complained and tried to keep me in his clutches. Due to his neutrality in all of this, I allowed him to pick me up–not that I could stop him–and even pushed my face to hide it in his neck.

"What are you doing, Dwayne?" David questioned in an eerily calm voice, but we all heard the underlying warning and danger...the calm before the storm, as they say. God, what's his deal? Can't he just leave me alone? Can't they all?

"I'm trying to fix what you might have broken. Have fun with your little pity party while I care for her as we all should be doing in this difficult time she's about to face." He sneered and I have no idea why that seemed to make them as melancholy as it did but, when I opened my eyes and peeked over his shoulder, they all looked downtrodden. Even stoic David had some regret darkening the lustre of his hypnotic stare.

I must have fallen asleep on my little excursion with the dark haired beauty. For how long I didn't recall. But enough time for someone, Dwayne, that was right, to have tucked me into...a bed?

The room–if you could call the dark, damp stone area filled with candles, bookshelves, cabinets and the four poster bed shrouded with hanging sheets of blue lace and silk a room–was lit in a dull orange glow from the candles, the only light in the cavernous space.

It was odd to discover someone had secured a door at the wide entrance to fake a sense of privacy for me. Cute, but wildly disturbing given that their perception of privacy and decent  humility was skewed.

Under the white satin covers and thin patchwork blankets, I felt with relieved hands that I was still dressed in my loose dress and black tights. My chunky leather jacket and large heeled boots were stashed by the door, a fucking odd place to put them, but as I look at the floor I discover a possibly sick reason as to why. The ground was stone. Sharp stone that looked rocky and jagged and uneven enough to tear up my feet If I tried to walk across it.

Had...had they moved my shoes that far away from me so I wouldn't be able to leave?

At the worst moment, where my rationality was depleting is when voices travelled to my 'room' from down the hall. Torn feet were better than seeing those four assholes to me and resolved to suffer pain rather than stay here for them to torment, I went to move.

I'd made it three quarters of a way off the bed before my arm met resistance violently. My wrist was yanked back and I ground to a startled halt, a hiss passing through my lips as pain jolted down my arm. I looked at what was stopping me and felt in record time as the sickness resumed its dance of despair in my stomach.

Handcuffs. They...fucking handcuffed me to the wooden bedpost?

"No..." It was a delirious whisper to start with, in concern that the voices of those assholes still talking outside the door were seconds before coming in. Then, as I tugged at my arm and it wasn't freed, as I heard the door shift and grate against stone to open, desperation raised it to a low yell of dwindling hope. "No!"

I tugged and and tugged and at each unrelenting grasp of resistance my despair doubled and doubled until it sought to bring me to my knees before it. I fought violently to be free, my movements increasingly harsh and frenzied. It made no difference.

Something constricted me around my waist, pulling me into a hard chest.

"No!" I was screaming now, flailing my free arm to dislodge my attacker from me. I couldn't get any air in, my throat closed in fright, my vision obscured by tears.

The person wrapped me in a hug, rubbing their leather gloved hands on my arms only stirring goosebumps of fright, their deep voice lulling me ever closer into a calm state. When he spoke his promises of peace into my ear, his stubble scratched my neck.

David. No. Shit, he'll put that curse of immobility back on me.

"Relax now, sweetheart. Come on, there's a good girl. Stop fighting." My body listened to David's command against my own will, like I suspected it would and it sank back into him, all of my weight supported by his sturdy arms.

"No...no, no..." The mumbles breaching past my wobbling lips were weak.

"Yes," He disagreed with vicious glee and flexed those muscled arms to broadcast his strength, that he could overpower me easily. It was to wake me up and laugh at me. This is real. You're stuck. There's no way out.

That's what the action says and I wanted anything other than it, but my body stopped fighting, easing back into him until he was all that kept me from flopping languidly to the floor.

"That's it." He urged me, pleased, "Very good. Now, let go, Hesperia. Give in."

I tried to claw my way to the surface of this drowning haze enough to mutter one last weak, "N-No."

"Oh?" He drawled condescendingly. He knew just as I did that my fight would soon be all for nothing and it was making him even more smug.

I felt it, as he smirked against the skin of my neck, tightening those sturdy arms around my waist again until I could barely breath. "But you want to give in, don't you, darlin'? You want to relax."

That did it.

In my head I screamed for redemption, in outrage and disgust at him touching me. On the outside I was limp, now weak in his hold–my anger gone. Relaxed...serene. Just what he wanted.

He lifted me, only for a few short seconds to reposition me on the bed. Staring up at him, the only thing showing my hatred for him was the burning passion of my soul leaking from my eyes in sluggish tears–my soul that he can't tame into complacency like my easily controlled body.

He sat by my side and I was truly awed into shock when he raised a single finger, crooking it once.

The three other boys made their appearance like ghosts, spectrally filing out of the black shadows of the room.

Marko came to sit by my head on the pillows, immediately delving his fingers into my hair. He played with it and tilted his head, smiling with warmth, in reminiscence of the sickly childish glee he'd had earlier as he twisted the strands and plaited them intricately. I felt sickened to the core of my very being that he was treating me like a pretty doll rather than a human. A person.

Dwayne stayed standing at the end of the bed behind David, leaning on one of the four posters so he was covered in a shroud of pale green and sea blues, but I still could see the plea for sympathy and forgiveness that he was letting this happen to me on his face.

Behind him, Paul appeared and danced to be by Marko, sitting on the bed by my side to watch the seraphic and cherubically beautiful man 'play' with me. He puffed away at a joint, the Earthly scented smoke rolling over me and I felt my stomach lurch when he pulled it from his lips and licked them far too seductively, contemplating the position I was in.

He lowered it to my slack lips, partially open and I couldn't stop him–no one else tried to–when he gently worked it in using his rough fingers, his face deviously stretched into a terrifying smirk.

"Take a puff and get nice and relaxed, kitty. Be a good girl." I'd give anything to smack the everloving shit out of him until he's black and blue but I was stuck, my hands tied. I decided that it was better to get this over with than to let him hover and torment me if I didn't. I tried to prepare for the haze that was going to join and mingle with David's power in making me lose myself.

I took a slow puff. There was no doubt of me refusing to hold the smoke in and tempestuously, I blew it into his face when he leaned to get a better look with his jaw dropped. He cackled after melodramatically breathing it in and snatched the joint back, shaking his head with his eyes half lidded in desire. "Damn chica, I think I'm falling in love with you!"

He and Marko laugh and jostled each other over me and it was all so horrid, with me cast as a pretty little object for them to fuss at.

"Ria," David's voice called to me and with effort, my head flopped back in his direction. He was smirking, in no end of joy about having fooled me and my prick of a brother, I'm sure. Ironic that he had dubbed Cassius that when he and his band of hooligans have kidnapped us both.

"Such power behind that stare, Ria. I'm surprised." He confided, truly seeming awed by something. His eyes had lost their smug element that was ever present but knowing David that wouldn't last long. "I admit, you've stunned me. There aren't many who can still hold so much resentment, so much sense of self when I take them under like this."

I mutter, the words building in my throat struggling to come out; fighting their way to be said like someone clawing their way fruitlessly up a slide. When I bite them out, they're slurred but easy enough to discern, even through the aggression laced in them. "Under? U–under what? This curse you've put on me?"

The boys mumbled in the background, voices not distinguishable like the shock in them is. Their words twirl and mist away like fog through the air on a winter's morning. David is the only person I can hear, the only one my tunnelled vision sees.

"You speak, too." There was a laugh edged in that proclamation, the same disbelief present in that complementary gaze hardened by the white of his hair. He looked intense, intimidating and I can't move to escape it. What...he thought I was special or something? Was that it? This wasn't a fucking romance novel and I was not falling for this bullshit.

He smiled at me, impressed. "Hardly any can speak. It's admirable, your fight. Pointless," The group released crazed laughs and it really dug in that yeah...pointless as it may be, I really wasn't going to make this easy for them now. He continued, "but I like a girl with fight and it is impressive, nonetheless."

"Great." I snarled, hoping to rid him of the notion that whatever the hell he thought he was going to do with me was going to work out. Their assholery was just even more incentive for me to challenge them at every turn. "Just what I wanted. To impress you. God, my life is fulfilled at last!"

He dulled his appreciation at my sarcasm, anger beginning to show in the edges of his expression. A downturn of a lip, a hardened pale brow, the steel shield sliding over his eyes to protect the most vulnerable parts of him from harm. It was a mask I recognized.

"You know, I'd love to free you, Ria. If I thought I could trust you not to overreact to what I want to tell you." He told me in that cold, matter of fact way. I could see he was ruffled below the nonchalant surface.

"Free me, kill me, assault me. Do what you want. So many urges and not enough fight to deny them for a man like you...and yet you act like a saint. Do you know how much you sicken me?"

I saw it, as he recognized my taunts for what they were. Hints back to their behavior previously that contradicted him and his promises of telling me anything.

"Well, see. Then you go and do that." He tutted, "Generosity is a fickle thing to a man like me, and how nice can I be when you keep running this pretty little mouth of yours and getting yourself in trouble?" I just barely chocked back my gasp as he took ahold of my chin in a bruising grip, staring intensely at the object he seemed so fascinated with. He even let his thumb draw a light trail over my Cupid's bow. I wanted to fucking bite it off, but instead I settled for a glare.

I didn't let my terror of him stop me, managing to jerk my chin out of his hold. "Let's end this meaningless discussion here and talk about what we need to talk about."

He imitated innocence, caching his unease by placing a hand over his heart, a secretive smirk furled over his lips. "Meaningless? I'm hurt, darlin'. Do we mean so little to you?"

I sneer as brutally as possible. "You mean nothing."

The anger was back. It fought, struggling to go away and his gloves made an unpleasant noise when he crushed his hand into a fist. He chuckled, a scoff of air, a challenge received by me from the slits his eyes have now become. "Well that's charming, ain't it boys?"

Paul, like an aggravating mockingjay, happily copied David's sarcastic and mean behaviour, turning my head back to him with two fingers under my chin. It felt better to remember I'm not alone with the evil man who was just trying to set me ablaze through a stare, but I'm not safe. With any of them.

Least of all the handsy Paul.

He took advantage of my inability to fight and kept me still with his fingers, his face lowered so close his lips touched mine intermittently when he spoke. "Really charming, Davey. But there's something our delightful little babe is forgetting." He squeezed my jaw and chin (they all seemed so fond of bruising me like a peach in that particular area) closing his eyes and breathing deeply. I cringed, but he pressed his forehead to mine, his teased hair tickling my face.

He kept my frightened gaze locked with his that tempered my hate and tried to soothe my aggression as he whispered, "It pays to be nice, sugar. Especially to men like us. I mean, I really think you should be thankful!"

"Thankful?" I hissed the word through my teeth, trying to escape his painful grasp that was stronger than necessary. Dislodging him was appearing to be an impossible task.

His face was so close I felt more than heard the excited chuckle he breathed out. The skin around his eyes creased at the corners and when he hummed against me with a nod, my anger peaked. "What should I be thankful for, jackass? You've fucking taken me!"

"That we have, Ria." He crooned, darkly pleased, suddenly too serious to take as a joke like I normally would.

His irises were an odd mix of colours that shouldn't belong to a human man–a dark, glowing sunset of deceit. I felt in a trance, like Mowgli was to Kaa, as the swirling honey, gold and amber shades playing in their depths urged me to fall into them and never escape. I'd nearly won, before. I'd been free enough to get some snark in at David. Now, it was a losing battle. Because, again, I was becoming trapped. And again...I was finding I didn't want to leave.

The hypnotic process was spurred on by his close proximity. That pretty face, charming smile, and then there was the strangely pleasant smell of him. Heady weed and cigarettes and something metallic mingled with a hint of something sweet–like the candy floss or funnel cakes down at the boardwalk, or the way icing sugar lingers in your throat.

I was losing control of myself. Quickly.

"Oh, there we go, sweetheart." He praised as he saw this. "Isn't she so good for us?" He slyly asked the others.

Dwayne, from what I could glimpse of him, kept his jaw wound tightly shut, staring down at the ground.

Marko let out his boyishly manic cackle in agreement. "More than good for us, bud."

"Practically an Angel." David agreed with them both, smoothing my hair behind my ear. It was all I had left in me not to show how much I liked his touch.

Paul redirected my attention back to him by whispering my name. He worked easily enough with my stunned trance that had my eyes closing in fatigue, rubbing his nose against mine in an overly disgusting and cutesy display of affection. As if we were lovers. As if we'd known each other lifetimes and this was all natural.

"You don't need to be afraid of it, sweetness. That feeling trying to break through your fear. Of this little daydream your in. Or of us."

I withheld a scoff. They'd proven it was quite the opposite. Earlier, they'd seemed to want my terror, my tears. Like they lived on it.

But then he sighed forlornly as if he knew what I was thinking and was slightly saddened over it, and I was unsure about them again. It was starting to be really tiresome trying to work them out.

"You can keep your prejudices," He shrugged, proclaiming proudly under the chorus of laughter from Marko and David, "Because you're right to have them. I do nasty things, babe. So do my brothers. And we like it, Ria. See, me personally..." His hand crept up my side, laying his palm flat over my chest. Right above the space my frantically pulsing heart occupied...he groaned, and either I was mental, or his face was really shifting into that mask of a killer hiding below the surface. "There it is. That's what I like. Your fear. Your struggle to hide the way your beautiful little heart jumps with need every time I touch you."

This was exactly what I meant. He was scaring me on purpose, but when the result was tears and muffled cries from me, he became almost...angry, the facade of a beast gone, tutting at me, "But I want your smile, to see you laugh. To see light I'm so used to destroying. Shit," Letting out a sharp puff of irritated air through his nose that set me on edge, he cocked his head at me. "You see how we're in a bit of a conundrum here with you, huh?"

Conundrum wasn't the fucking world I'd use.

He smiled despite his apparent internal conflict. "You're impossibly fucking gorgeous, kinder than you should be, sweet as a bowl of sugar and most of all, you're ignorant to what's happening here. We're the complete opposite to you. We don't have a fucking clue what to do with you now you're here."

Now I'm here? What?

"It's a fight to be nice and we're losing, babe. But right now I've got some time for it. Time to help you before the monster wins again and does something that'll hurt you."

Monster? Fucking hell, what was going on? What had we gotten into?

I wanted to say let me go, but it was something horrid and defeated inside me that just knew that wasn't going to happen. Because his mind boggling monologue held a deeper meaning in it I wasn't grasping.

"So take advantage of our kindness. Won't you let me explain some things?" He asked, but he was so carefree and jovial and just...cunning I didn't know if I could trust he would. He pushed me when he saw that doubt, "I'm the best for it. I mean, if there was an award for talking, fuck knows I'd win by a landslide!"

Yeah, and then some. He was the only one here running his mouth.

I kept mine closed out of stubborn defiance.

He tensed, clicking his tongue.

"I'm struggling with this, Ri. We all are. But I wanna try to make things better...so let me ease your nerves? Let me help you unwind. You want that, babe, I know you do. You want to be in the loop so badly I can see it eating away at you. So trust that you'll know soon, if you're good. Trust me, baby." His warm lips skimmed invitingly against mine with each devoted whisper, hands roving all over me.

Trust me...

It echoed in my head, over and over, until I was left disoriented with nothing but Paul in my focus, and as he continued to douse me in affection with that saccharinely sly grin, I found I didn't hate what he was doing so much when I was a victim to their powers like this. It was even nice. So much so, I relented my silence and breathed out a quiet, breathless, "Trust you...yes. I do."

"Good girl." He whispered, frowning and shushing me when I teared up impatiently, tormented by this game. "Shh, sweets. Keep being good. You're doing so well."

Be good. Be complacent. Let them win. Let them take over my fucking mind until I wouldn't be able to tell night from day. That's what they were doing, what they were succeeding at.

I might be being manipulated, but I still had enough sense to keep being smacked around the head and reminded of the perilous situation I'm in.

"Tell me Paul. Stop playing with me, p-please..."

He cooed, so soothing coupled with Marko's hands in my hair that massaged and caressed and chipped the fear away, "I will, pretty girl. Be patient."

I couldn't be sure how much of my appreciation I was feeling was his power...or if it was starting to be real, even though this was sick. They were sick.

When he spoke at last I felt and knew firsthand the truth to the need in his voice. Felt it in his little kisses he dotted over my skin between words. "See, we've taken you because it's our right, Ria. Not to hurt you, or scar you, but to have you completely. You don't know how fucking badly you're stuck with us, baby. You've got no idea."

"I don't." I agreed softly, and even through this pollution of my sanity my desperation managed to seek for answers. My eyes slipped closed when his hands slid along my waist, gliding swirls and delicate little touches on the sheer material of my dress over my ribs, just under my bra. Some part of me, some warped piece of my very being enjoyed what he was doing and begged me to give in.

"I want to, Paul. I want to understand. Please...help me." I used the sweetest, most honeyed voice I could muster in my tired state.

When I peeled my eyes open enough to see, he was the one who looked entranced now.

"Please?" Perhaps a little boldly, I pushed again.

He watched me in my lie of serenity, watched his hands touch me and swallowed deeply at the involuntary arching of my body into his grip.

"You...you nearly got me, girl, with those lovely little plea's." He suddenly sat straighter, staring down at me passively after sharing a look with David. I could still see it was a battle to stay in control, to not show how I had nearly won him over.

"What I want, is for you to trade something for my help, baby." His hands joined Marko's and fiddled with the ends of my loose hair splayed in light raven waves around my head. I wondered how it had come undone, but Paul distracted me, dragging a knuckle down my cheekbone while I tried to grasp what he meant. He looked devious, did I want to play into this?

"A trade? What trade?" I sounded weak and I was defeated when his lips twitched evilly, his face coming so close I could barely breathe again.

He was serious all of a sudden and his ability to switch his emotions so quickly made my head spin with dizziness like I'd just had an exhilarating ride on the Big Dipper. He was inches from pressing his lips to mine, but there was no fear for it.

Would it really be so bad if he did? That sinful version of my conscious whispers.

He murmured, "I want you to give me a kiss, babe. A real one, with emotion. I want you to mean it. Then, well...then I'll tell you anything."

A...kiss. A fucking kiss? Oh, that was all?

Smoke blew into my vision from the right and still keeping sights on Paul's expectantly smug face, his arms caged around me, I peek in my peripherals to see David and Dwayne sharing the smoke and watching the show play out. So that's where it had disappeared to.

David grinned, a predatory and warning showcase of his unhidden fangs and dread shot down my spine. He said through a cloying laugh, "I'll allow it just this once. Kiss him, Ria. Then we'll tell you all you could want to know. About everything."

But I haven't kissed anyone before, I wanted to protest. I didn't want my first like this. Held hostage in some cave, victim to four men–vampires, who knew nothing of kindness or respect or boundaries.

"Come on, little bird." Marko encouraged, just out of my sight. His voice filtered over me from somewhere up above, sounding too convincing and lovely to deny.

My scalp tingled, evidence that his fingers were still busy. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a trick–his power, but he was so saccharine, so able to settle my nervous worries that I started to listen. Wanted to listen.

Paul's face inched closer and I was not afraid like I should be because Marko's appealing and melodious voice was carrying on, drowning me in assurance. "You'll like it, birdie. Let that comfort in. It's alright. Don't fear what's meant to happen, what's going to happen. Trust me, baby. You're meant for this."

I'm meant for this? T-Trust him? Yes, I should. He wouldn't lie...would he?

And then Paul's lips met mine and it was tentative, at first. Just a little touch. An experiment of how far I'll let him take it. A charmingly bashful caress that I wouldn't have expected from him.

But classically, Paul couldn't behave for long. When I didn't fight against him, he moved them desperately, all but devouring me like he was finally having something he'd been deprived of for so long.

For some fucking reason as he groaned and closed his eyes...I responded, my body doing so of its own volition. As if I was just a puppet for my deepest and disgusting desires to use.

I should have felt shame, but his lips were so soft and that part of me that had shown itself around them, one I was not willing to accept—it wanted me to reciprocate. So I did.

Tentatively, because I was still scared but had no control of myself except to do things that were shocking even to me, I kissed him back. It stoked his enthusiasm.

To my honest mortification, as he gained some confidence and teased his warm tongue against my lips to playfully make a shot at gaining entrance, I allowed it.

He groaned in surprised delight but passionately massaged his tongue against mine and he tasted of something odd. Something addictive. Sweet and spicy with a touch of iron that should be repulsive but left me achingly wanting more.

He tasted exactly as he smelled and I was lost and I was mad and I couldn't fucking breathe because Marko was right. I did like it–and that angered me beyond reason.

So much so that I vowed not to lose. I played him, kissing him back. Hard, to smother his senses like he did to mine. It worked and as he groaned, as he let me nibble on his lip I ignored Marko's unsolicited advice and shoved out that feeling of belonging.

Taking advantage of his vulnerability I sank my teeth into the flesh of his lip with so much gusto hot blood flooded into my mouth.

"Holy shit!" He broke away from me with a gargled yelp and I wasn't stupid, even in such trying times. I listened to my gut and spat his blood onto the cold stone floor, being sure not to swallow until almost all of it was gone.

It was slick and sickening and just...disgusting; thick and hot on my mouth and chin as I gagged, dripping its red warmth onto the cold skin of my chest, left exposed by the deep neckline of my dress.

Marko yanked me back and pinned me down by my shoulders, appearing upside down in a myriad of dazzling colours thanks to his bright jacket invading my sight from his position over me.

He watched Paul hop to his feet, crowded by David and Dwayne. He winced as the brutally torn skin of his brother's lower lip mended and stitched back together. Then he looked at me, and the acrid and bitter blood staining my mouth made his irises glint an ignited orange in the dark candlelight, his facial structure shifting.

"Damn, doll!" He laughed but it was more of a growl. It rang in its viciousness...the echo of the noise just as infernal as he was in appearance.

He gazed appreciatively at the anger still governing me, adding fire to my melancholy beauty in his monstrous eyes. "Guess you can't mean it with more emotion than that."

"Too fucking right, bud." Paul grumbled as he plopped back onto the bed, his lip fixed. Brand new and not nearly torn clean off his face.

He laughed easily at me as if I hadn't attacked him, pinching me on the cheek with his rough fingers. "Thanks, sugar. That was entertaining as hell! Definitely a kiss to remember. I think it'll even take the number one slot on my list."

W–what the fuck? They're not mad I attempted to mutilate him? They really are all insane.

"I think," David drawled in that husky voice that I hated because it made me feel things so unnatural.

I didn't have to move my unwilling head toward him to gleam the sincerity in his words. I felt the bed dip as he sat back down, Dwayne hovering behind him. The cold of the leather of his glove nipped along the nerves of my arm when he glided a finger over my wrist. I didn't want to know what he thought, but he didn't care for nor hear my thoughts of denial. "You need to apologise to Paul for that, don't you darlin'?"

No is what I wish to say. Under this curse, I can't say anything that I want, but he meant for his question to be rhetorical. He clicked his tongue and tears stung my eyes at his brazen statement. "I think we should let Paul clean you up, hm? You hurt him bad sweetheart. It's only fair you make it up to him."

Paul liked the idea Davd was suggesting, his face lit up with carnal glee. I knew what they meant. There was blood on my mouth, my neck and my chest. To clean me up...No. No.

"No! David, please..." I begged and angled my head to see him, my tears falling. Dwayne looked away uncomfortably and David simply hushed me, catching the dewey drops on a finger. He observed them in fascination as they roll down the leather, turning his eyes to watch more spill down my heated skin.

He sighed and I knew just in that fraudulent sound of sadness alone, he was playing this up. He wouldn't change his mind. I couldn't restrain the whimper that spilled unbidden from my mouth when he turned me back to look at Paul, the eager man practically vibrating with excitement.

"Sorry, sweet pea. You're gonna have to learn the hard way what happens when you disobey us. No better time than the present. Wouldn't you say, Paul?"

And with David's hand on my arm, Dwayne backing away from the sickness of it all and Marko still toying with my increasingly messy hair, Paul surged forward, kissing me again.

He was more zealous. More out of control and I had none myself this time to stop him with such vigour as before. He cleaned the blood from around my mouth in kitten licks, carrying them down the crimson trails on my neck.

It was humiliating. I wanted to tell him no, to push him off, scream at them all but I...I also really didn't. It was sick, I was sick because I liked what he was doing so much even though I shouldn't.

It felt so damn good and that made me feel nauseous, but any lucidity to end this fell prey to David and Paul's combined powers of hypnosis that left me complacent and even actively involved. Moans and sighs of pleasure escaped me but under their hypnosis I didn't even realise for quite some time I was making noise.

It was only when his face went dangerously low did I recognize and feel shame for the sounds I was releasing and the position I found myself in.

Paul had somehow managed to make it so he was lying between my legs, my thighs open and cradled against him, one of his hands supporting and holding the back of my neck for better access.

His face was buried in the opening of my dress, most of my breasts left modestly covered but the soft swells straining against the dresses neckline were what had his attention. He licked the blood from my skin with enthusiasm, between the valley of my breasts all the way to my collarbones. His stubble scratched my skin in pleasant shocks of electricity and I was delirious, I'd gone mad because I wanted to pull him closer. To tell him never to stop.

I had fallen down the rabbit hole of madness, lost in a hellish imitation of Wonderland and in this split moment, just this–I never wanted to leave.

He kept up the dizzying rhythm and added little bites to it, encouraged to make them stronger and more fierce by my mewls and my subtle squirming. I wagered it went on for longer than any of them intended; all too soon there was an awkward cough that broke the thick, lustful tension.

"Yeah, Paul? She's been clean for a good two minutes, bud." Marko giggled manically from above me when Paul pulled away with a pout at having his fun ruined.

He eyed me beneath him and groaned, stubbornly prolonging the inevitable by rising up on his knees slowly. "It's a shame it had to come to that. You looked so pretty in red, angel." He grinned down at me, all perfect teeth and true happiness when he slid from between my legs, and I felt ill.

Just...how has my life come to this?

David passed him the smoke when he say straight and he took it graciously, not pulling his intense eyes from me when he resumed smoking it, or when David encouraged my face to look towards him. Paul still watched, made silent in his satisfaction. The embodiment of the cat who'd gotten the cream.

"There. Finally we can get to the good stuff. Come on Ria. It'll be alright, it's over. Hush now." His attempts at calming me by rubbing soothing patterns on my arm made me feel worse, but I was left to scream and rage in my mind. My body was not mine anymore, to control or use. I was a Marionette, with them now in total control of my strings.

To feel this vulnerable...I think I'd rather be dead.

His expression flashed with dark, malignant pleasure as I defiantly glowered up at him. I was seeing real evil for the first time. This look he had, liked he'd won...it was worse than the satisfaction even my true brother had when he murdered my family.

"What do you want to know first, darlin'?" I wished he'd stop calling me that. Despite my better judgement still clinging on, that name made me ache and burn wantonly and I didn't  understand why.

I considered his question, but I could give two shits about what he wanted me to ask that was making him smirk so expectantly. There was just one thing I give a fuck about.

"Where...where's my brother, David?" His high and mighty attitude fell, a pinched look of annoyance sharpening his severe features and the truth of his vampirism gauged his face into a gnarly animalistic mask. Jesus, why did he hate my brother so much?

He snarled a feral laugh, "Your brother? I'd say you may as well forget him. He'll be dead by the end of the week." The others chorused a gaggle of demented laughs for good measure at Cassius's fate but I was left with nothing but heartache.

The man, the creature of tainted darkness that had taken me under his wing. That had looked out for me for years, that had mended me when I was nothing but a sad girl, a lost girl, that had become the closest family I had ever known...they wanted to just kill him?

I couldn't hold it in anymore and I flipped my hand with all of my energy, my fingers quickly snatching up his in a vice–like grip. He stopped laughing, now deadly serious and I gasped for breath, for strength to get out what needed to be said.

"Why are y–you...doing this to us? What did we do to you?" I shuddered with the force of the sobs that my controlled body was too weak to let out. My tears couldn't even fall, they just stayed, blanketing my vision of the ambivalence of him in the face of my heartbreak.

Dwayne spoke for the first time. He was the only one there who talked to me as if I was a person, his dark brown eyes swimming with regret. "There are reasons to our madness in your eyes, Ria. I'm sorry princess, but you must know we are doing this for the good of us all."

He was pleading, unknown to me. For forgiveness and the hope of redemption but I wasn't omnipotent and I could only see what was plainly in front of me: four disturbed men casting me as the main target of some new, twisted game they play with their prey.

"Then tell me what's happening!" I demanded with conviction, the exertion of such energy causing my head to swirl with vertigo and my stomach to roll with nausea. I fought to sit up, to make myself look stronger but I knew as best as they did that it was pointless and I flopped back down, a sigh laden with annoyance and fear and thick with suppressed tears puffed out of my nose.

"Telling you means opening you up to a world you're not ready for. Not yet." David said definitively and it was my turn to laugh, because he's the one who has no idea about other worlds–not me, as he thinks.

Slightly delirious, I giggled and enjoyed far too much the way his self assuredness melted away from him. "You think I don't know?"

"What?" He growled, an increasingly corrupt look of abject annoyance diminishing his arrogance.

I gasped, pretending to be sad with comically wide eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I stutter? I said 'you think I don't know?' Because I do. I know exactly what you are. I did even before Marko's little display."

"And what is that, girly? What are we?" Marko took over when David just stared, trying to call my bluff or figure me out.

I didn't look at any of them, just the arched and jagged stone ceiling when I grudgingly divulged my knowledge. "You're vampires."

Fingers dug with vicious precision into the flesh of my cheeks, ripping my face in David's direction so I was forced to look at him. He was furious and...scared? Of me knowing this? Why?

"How do you know?"

I simply laughed, revelling in having the upperhand and the practical steam pouring from his ears put a smile on my face, one that hasn't been there since we came to this god forsaken place. He shook my face harshly, his hold desperate. But all I can think is 'I've got you'. I've won.

"How do you know?!"

"David, man–"

He snarled aggressively at Dwayne, silencing the poor man. No one tried to stop him as he sneered down at me, utterly pushed to madness at having lost his edge, his advantage over me.

"I'll tell you. I will. But first, maybe you should reconsider your arrogance and realise that you don't know everything?" I advised, loving the way he fell victim to confusion, not knowing what to do from here. To see such a strong man flounder out of his element was thrilling.

"Speak, girl. Don't force me to assuage answers from you. You won't like the way I'll do it one bit, I can guarantee you that." Even I can see the threat is empty. His hold on my face had slackened, too, but I didn't move from it for reasons unknown to me and I even revealed some truths.

"You don't think Vampires and Angels are all that's out there, do you?" From the long and uncomfortable grimace of trying to keep his face blank of the shock I see truthfully revealing itself in his eyes, he very much did think that. I shake my head. "David. No. There's so much more out there, a world full of creatures just as simple and plain looking as you and I on the surface but underneath they are anything but...and we know them. Cas and I. That is how I know what you are. They warned me."

I'm pulled into my memories while I speak of them, my focus pushed to the past while the group of lost men watch me with burgeoning shock. "All of them. Witches, sirens, banshee's. It was all the same. All the similarities between them being their fear of only one other creature–rare to find, deadly if encountered due to their instincts to form groups. Yes, I was always told to be afraid of yellow eyes and the monster they belonged to..." I laughed bitterly, flickering my eyes to meet a pair of those very ones right now, beaming down at me through the dark. "And yet, look where all of that warning got me in the end."

He released me like he'd been burned. His nostrils flared like an enraged bulls and I was sure he was going to do something drastic. He looked furious.

In the end, all it took was a deep breath released through his nose and he was...fine. Just like that. His vicious edge was back, his unease so distant I was convinced it was a memory I had forged in my mind to feel a semblance of control in all of this.

"Look where it got you indeed," He hummed a laugh, so cold and detached I'd rather he was scowling down at me. He squeezed my hand, bent close as if to tell me a secret; his unique smell of smoke, harsh copper and natural pine assaulted my senses abrasively. "There are rules to the supernatural. Many of them and they are not easy to remember. Yet, it's you mortals and your futile rules that are the most amusing to a creature like me. How quickly you all seem to forget them." He mused and his eyes flash like the steel of a knife in the dim light. "You didn't remember the most basic of them, Ria, and now you're in big fucking trouble girl."

He tutted and I wished the ground would split and swallow me to a painful death rather than sit here, staring at this monster any longer...a monster that grinned at me in victory and even I understood who held the aces. David had won.

"Don't you know, sweetheart? You're in the murder capital of the world now–and you never follow strangers to odd places unless you want to court chaos and entice trouble." He laughed with chilling amusement this time when I cried and I felt hopeless, sad.

I was that lost girl again like I was three years ago, but this time the monster that had found me wanted to do anything but help.

"Least of all in a place so hellish as Santa Carla."