Embrace The Twilight

"I swear, I'm telling you the truth," Amber Lily Bryant said.



She wasn't whining. Stiles hadn't heard the girl whine yet. She was the kind of person he could have admired, in any other circumstances. But she was on the wrong side in this. If his experiments were successful, though, he would soon have the most powerful antivampire weapon in any arsenal known to man.



"How can I believe that you don't know whether you can live eternally or not? Hmm?"



She shrugged. "I grow older. Vampires don't, not from the moment when they're changed. If I grow older, it stands to reason that I'll eventually die."



"One thing doesn't necessarily prove the other."



"Doesn't it?"



He shook his head. "Do you heal like other vampires? All in one day?"



"I've barely had a scratch in my entire life. Though if you want to know that, you've certainly put enough of them on me to check for yourself."



He frowned, glancing at the bandages on her arms and chest, where his team had removed tiny skin samples. She followed his gaze, and her eyes clouded with her true feelings. She hated him. He knew that. But she would cooperate now. He had the ultimate tool to force her. He hadn't bothered to move his captives because he saw no need. His troops were prepared, and since there was only one lone vampiress at large in the area, the one who'd managed to escape his trap, he didn't feel too threatened. "You've never had a scratch, you say. Yet your skin is clearly not impenetrable."



"No. It's just that my parents are somewhat over-protective."



"Ahh. So you've never suffered a major injury, or been in an accident where you should have suffered one but didn't?"



"Right."



"What about illnesses? Colds, the flu?"



"I don't know."



"You've never been sick?"



"Not that I can remember."



"So that's hardly in keeping with your being an ordinary mortal," he told her. She only shrugged. "You know, Miss Bryant, in the end, you might be very glad I helped you find out these things about yourself. You must want to know more about your own nature. Especially something as vital as whether or not you can die."



"Everything alive can die, Mr. Stiles."



"Dr. Stiles," he corrected.



She pursed her lips, silently doubting his degree.



She was sharp, he thought. He didn't have one. He was largely self-taught. A lifetime's experience with vampires could teach a man far more that any university could. And he'd had years of research experience at the DPI. He'd worked with some of the greatest scientific minds of their time. He should be a doctor, even if he wasn't.



"You have this telekinetic ability-you can move things with your mind. Have you ever tested its limits?"



Meeting his eyes slowly, she shook her head left, then right.



"What's the largest thing you've ever moved?"



Her gaze shifted down and to the right as she tried to remember. "I don't know. A pile of books, maybe. A lamp. I don't know."



"Have you ever tried to move an entire person?"



"No."



"Try. Try to move me." She shot him a look, and he smiled. "Gently," he said. "You want your parents to continue receiving the best of care, after all."



Swallowing hard, she nodded. Then her expression changed. Became very focused, very intense. Her eyes centered somewhere in the area of his chest, and her facial muscles seemed to tighten a little.



And then he felt the blow, dead center of his chest. He flew backward, slammed into the barred door.



She jumped to her feet. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry! I didn't do that on purpose. Honestly!"



He managed to stay upright, lifting up a hand to stop her panic.



"I thought it would take more effort," she told him.



He lifted his brows. Then she was more powerful than even she realized. But it probably wasn't the wisest idea to go to great lengths to make her aware of that. Still, he needed to know. He ran a hand over the back of his head, where he'd felt the impact. "What about the thoughts of other people. Can you read them?"



"Only vampires, and only when they're not blocking them. That's how I know my family is okay down there in that cell where you're holding them."



"And can they read yours?"



"Yeah. Same rules apply. They, of course, can read almost any mortal's thoughts, depending on how strong-willed the person is."



"But you can't?"



"No."



"I see." He straightened his lab coat and came back to her side. "Let me see one of those little scrapes, hmm?"



She held out her arm. He peeled off the bandage and noted that she didn't wince. Maybe because it didn't hurt. Stiles frowned, looking closely at the mark in her flesh. "Half-healed already. You may not heal in a day's time like your relatives do, but you do heal far faster than an ordinary mortal. And you're physically stronger, too."



"Look, I've been cooperative. You've taken enough blood and tissue from me to build a whole new model, and I've answered every question. Don't you have all you need yet? Can't you just let us go?"



He ignored her plea, taping the bandage back in place. "What about your menstrual cycles? Are those normal?"



She blinked at him, saying nothing.



"I don't suppose that matters at the moment." He would keep her alive long enough to find that out, anyway. "You can rest now. We're going to see how much weight you can lift a little later on. I'm sure that's something you've always wondered about, isn't it?"



"No, it's really not."



He sighed, still unsure she'd been honest earlier when she'd told him she was a vegetarian. It might have been an attempt at sarcasm, but he had told Kelsey to bring her vegetarian meals from now on, all the same.



"You've been a good girl this morning. We can come back to those other things later on."



He pulled the tranquilizer gun, kept it trained on her while he called for Nelson to come open the door. He never entered the cell with the keys on him. It would be begging for trouble.



Yes, he was going to keep Amber long-term, he'd decided. She would be his personal subject of study for the rest of her life-or his, whichever came first.



He might even breed her, just to see what sort of little monster she would produce.



The others, of course, he would need to kill. He didn't like vampires, and he didn't really believe there was much more to be learned by studying them. The DPI had exhausted every avenue of research, and while he'd once feared most of it was lost in the fire, one of the relics he'd taken from the ashes had turned out to be the massive hard drive from the organization's mainframe.



Everything they'd ever learned was on it.



Her parents and her "uncle" Roland-they were dispensable. But not until he had everything he needed the girl to give him willingly. He went downstairs into the room in the back, which had been Eric Marquand's laboratory once-though why a vampire would have a laboratory in his home, Stiles couldn't begin to guess. It now served as one again. Closing the door and locking it behind him, he made sure he was alone. Then he opened the locked cabinet, made a few notes in the books that were for his eyes only. Closing the cabinet again, he relocked it Then he went to the tiny cooler and removed a vial of Amber Lily's white cells.



He located a rubber band and tied it around his biceps. Then he filled a syringe with the white blood cells, which he'd extracted from the whole blood in order to ensure that there would be no compatibility issues. He located a bare spot among the needle tracks on his arm, finding a good artery, and then he inserted the needle, depressed the plunger and closed his eyes.



"Two cars will be better than one," Will said. "We'll need every tool at our disposal."



Nodding, Rhiannon marched across the lawn, opened the door of her Mercedes and made a purling sound in the back of her throat. Her cat raced to her side, leaped into the car and made itself comfortable in the passenger seat. "You two follow closely. Don't let me lose sight of you."



"We'll be right behind you," Will promised as he walked down the driveway to the open gate and through it to his car on the other side. He opened Sarafina's door, and she looked surprised by that before getting in. Then he hurried around to his side and got in himself.



He started the engine and backed out of the way, waiting for Rhiannon to drive past him, then pulling into motion behind her.



He glanced at Sarafina. "Are you hurting as much as it feels like you are?" he asked.



She blinked at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"



"I have all these aches I didn't have before. It feels like I'm the one with the lump on my head, the bruised cheekbone and the wrenched ankle, among other things."



"You feel my pain?" she asked.



"I figured it was the blood. Don't Misty and Edward...?"



"No."



"No?" He glanced quickly at her, the bulk of his attention focussed on the road. "They sure sounded as if they were feeling it when they phoned me."



She shook her head. "They crave me like a drug. They think they love me, but it's the blood they love. They don't live inside me the way..."



"The way I do," he finished for her.



She slid her gaze away from his, trying to look out the window. "I was furious with them for disobeying me, and they knew it. They ran off into the woods right after they phoned you, which was what I had told them to do in the first place."



He shrugged. "Then they didn't disobey. Exactly. They just...delayed obeying."



She shot him a glance, brows raised.



He felt her pain when she moved. Her head ached. Her neck was stiff. "What I'm feeling-it's real, isn't it? You're in a lot of pain."



"We tend to feel physical sensations to an exaggerated degree-by mortal standards, at least. Pain, pleasure, they're heightened in my kind, along with every other sense. So yes, injuries cause me significant discomfort. Any real damage will heal with the day-sleep, however."



"But you've got half the night to get through before that." He shook his head. "She really kicked your ass."



Her head snapped toward him, eyes flashing.



"That wasn't a slam. I'm amazed, is all. I mean, you kicked my ass. I still haven't made peace with that one."



"Why are you doing this?" she asked, still staring at him.



"Doing what?"



"Making conversation. As if-as if you don't hate me with everything in you."



He drew a breath, was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. "I guess it must be because I don't hate you."



She narrowed her eyes as if she didn't quite believe him.



"I probably should, considering what you tried to do to me. God knows I've been trying to. But I don't. Actually, I kind of respect you for taking action to protect two girls you didn't even know. Against a man with whom you felt...connected. Maybe even cared for a little bit. Or am I assuming too much?''



She said nothing, just ripped her gaze away again, aiming it out the side window.



"I'm assuming that's why you didn't just kill me outright. Because of...the bond between us."



"I didn't kill you because I'd never met a man whose will seemed as powerful as yours. Breaking it was a challenge I couldn't resist."



"And that's all it was?"



"That's all it was."



"Sorry, Sarafina. But I don't believe you."



Her back stiffened a little. She didn't ask him why not, but he was on a roll, and he wasn't going to stop now.



"You didn't succeed. And you're still with me. And if the challenge of breaking my will were all you wanted, you'd still be trying. God knows you're strong enough to go a few more rounds with me."



She turned toward him slowly. "In case you haven't noticed, Willem, there are more pressing matters right now. I misread the situation and put the Child of Promise in jeopardy. I have to right this situation. And when it's finished, if we're both still alive, perhaps then I'll consider renewing my efforts with you."



He smiled a little crookedly. "No, you won't."



"And what makes you so certain of that?"



"Because you might win. And then you'd never have the satisfaction of knowing whether I'm so fucking hot for you and out-of-my-head in love with you because of mind control or just because I am."



She looked as if he'd hit her between the eyes with a mallet.



"I am, you know."



She shook her head, short movements left and right, over and over. "You're playing with my mind again."



"I wasn't playing with your mind in the first place. And none of the stuff I did with you back in that room was acting. I wanted every bit of it, and then some. And I can't really blame it on the blood, because I was craving you like a drug before we ever met outside our minds. And I think you know it, because you were craving me, too."



"No."



"Yes. And you want to know why. What the hell it means. And you'll never find out if you zap my brain the way you did those two zombie slaves of yours."



She sat rigidly, as far from him as she could. "You couldn't be more wrong, Willem Stone."



"You wish I was wrong. But we both know I'm not. At least I'm honest enough to admit it, Fina. I loved every minute of being chained to that bed, forced to submit to your will. You'll love it, too, when I return the favor one of these nights."



Her eyes widened, and he saw something he hadn't see before.



"Jesus, you're afraid of me."



She pursed her lips, crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't be ridiculous. I could snap you like a twig, mortal."



"Exactly. So what is it about me that frightens you so much?"



"I do not get 'frightened,'" she told him. "I'm a vampire. I've survived centuries. Monsters. Attacks of all kinds. Vampire hunters from all ages. Nothing frightens me."



"Right."



Will focused on his driving. But as he did, he had the feeling he was on to something. It was niggling in the back of his mind. The key to understanding this woman who so puzzled him. And for some insane reason, understanding Sarafina was as important to him as anything had ever been. Including escaping his captors, surviving his missions, even staying alive.



Sarafina disliked knowing that he thought her somehow afraid of him. She only wanted to see this mission through to the end and get away from him as soon as possible. She didn't want to admit to him that she'd felt remorse when she'd believed she had succeeded in breaking his will. To admit to that would be to admit to weakness, to a lack of confidence in her own judgment.



Nor would she admit how his lies about wanting her still, about loving her in spite of what she was and what she had done to him, had stirred fire in her belly. Much less the longing it stirred in her heart.



It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. And she refused to believe otherwise, or to acknowledge the answering feelings stirring inside her.



She'd given herself, body and soul, to other men- her fiance, her vampiric sire, her soul brother. All had betrayed her, left her alone in the end, and the pain of it had shattered her, again and again.



With Willem, there was no question that he would follow the same pattern. Even if, by some quirk of creation, he never intended to, he would leave her in the end. Because he was mortal, and she was not.



There was no future with him. None.



A very soft tone, short and repeating at even intervals a second or so apart, drew Sarafina's mind from her thoughts. She shot him a glance. "What is that?"



He jerked the wheel to the side, stopping the car and flashing his headlights once to get Rhiannon's attention ahead of them.



She must have seen, because she, too, slowed to a stop. Then she reversed her car and pulled it onto the shoulder just ahead of them. Even as she got out and walked toward them, Willem was leaning over Sarafina, rummaging in the glove compartment and finally pulling out the device that was making all the noise. It had a tiny screen marked into a grid, and a small light on that grid was flashing in time with the tone.



"Why have you stopped?" Rhiannon asked, leaning over the side of the car.



"This," he said, holding it up. He thumbed a dial on the side that lowered the volume of the beeps. "It's a tracking device. I put the other half of it into Amber Lily's bag. It sends out a signal, which this part picks up. It tells me where she is."



Rhiannon glanced at the box in his hand. "It tells you where her bag is."



"Well...yes, that's true. But if her bag is with her..."



"Yes, I can see where it might be helpful. Is it in keeping with a mansion about twenty miles ahead?"



He glanced at the box, then at the road. "Are we moving northeast?"



"Yes."



"Then, yes, that's where she is."



Rhiannon nodded. "Then he hasn't moved her. She's still at the house in Byram. Or her bag is."



"This will pinpoint her for us. We'll even be able to tell what room she's in when we get a little closer. There's an elevation readout on the bottom of the screen."



"That will be helpful." She glanced at Sarafina. "We should feed. Neither of us is at full strength after our little...disagreement." She glanced at Willem.



"Not while I draw breath," Sarafina said.



Rhiannon shrugged. "For God's sake, I would only take a little. Just enough to soothe my aching arm. I think you may have broken it."



"You'll have to kill me first, Rhiannon."



She sighed. "I'd be more than happy to, if I didn't need you for the mission ahead."



"Catch a rabbit. Bite your damn cat, if you need it that badly."



"Please." She grimaced. "I'll just drain the first of Stiles's men I happen to encounter when we get there." She glanced at Willem, sent him a wink. "Your loss, pet. I give great jugular." Then she turned and sauntered back to the Mercedes. She started it up, and the taillights flashed on. Then she pulled slowly into motion again.



Will followed, but as he did, he sent Fina a look. "Why didn't you tell me?"



"Tell you what?"



"That...that you could ease your pain by, um... you know...."



"You need to be at full strength, too, Willem. If I drink from you, I'll weaken you."



"Not if you only took a little. I've been downing protein drinks all day."



"What flavor?" she asked. "If they were chocolate, you're history."



He glanced at her, confusion, then surprise, etched on his face. "I don't believe it. Did you just make a joke?"



She averted her eyes, turned her head.



"Come here." He reached out to snag her around the waist with his right arm and pulled her across the seat until she sat so close her side was pressed to his. He tipped his head to the left. "Go ahead."



She eyed his corded neck, licking her lips. She already knew his taste. She wanted it. "When I taste you, Willem, I sometimes...have difficulty knowing when to stop."



"Yeah, and I have trouble wanting you to." He slid his hand up to cup her head, gently pressing it into the crook of his neck. The skin touched her lips, and she darted her tongue over it, tasting its salt, feeling the pulse beat against her tongue.



He shivered. "Do it."



"Perhaps...somewhere a bit less apt to prove deadly." She slid lower down his body, her head brushing across his belly and over his thighs.



"Oh, shit yeah," he whispered.



With a fingernail, she sliced open the leg of his jeans, just enough to give her mouth access. She tasted the skin of his thigh, kissed it, and then she sank her teeth in.



He sucked in a breath, his muscle going tight, then slowly relaxing as she nursed at the tiny wounds in his thigh. His hand came to the back of her head, ringers twisting in her hair, caressing her nape, urging her on. She felt his hardness, beneath the jeans, pressing against her cheek.



Power-his power, which had been further enhanced by hers when he'd tasted her bloods-coursed through her body. The pain in her eased. She tasted the very essence of Willem Stone, felt his heartbeat joining with hers.



And then the blood flow slowed. She'd punctured only a little, not very deeply, and nowhere near a major blood vessel. She sucked the skin until it gave no more sustenance, and then she lifted her head away.



Her pulled her close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder as he drove for several minutes.



"Better?" he asked at length, his voice a little coarse but in control. "I'm not feeling the pain like I was before."



"Yes. Much better." She lifted her head. "And you? Did I take too much?"



"Hell, no. Only next time, I think it might be a good idea to stop the car first."



She'd been relaxing against him, almost snuggling.



As if they were a couple in love. But she stiffened, sitting up slowly, smoothing her hair, and putting cold, empty space in between them.



"There...won't be a next time."



"The hell there won't"



She shot him a look. He averted his eyes. "Okay, look," he said, "you had a good point back there- about there being more important things to worry about right now. But when this is over-"



She pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't"



He kissed the finger, nodded. "Okay. I won't. Yet."



She closed her eyes and leaned back against her headrest. Perhaps her relief had been misplaced. Perhaps her efforts to makes him hers to command had worked after all. She hated the idea. But why else would he be acting the way he was?