A shiver ran down her neck as the wind brushed against her wet hair. With how short it was, the water droplets tickled the tips of her ears and dripped down her neck. Kopje was sleeping in as were most, save the mages out on patrol near the border. Here, just outside the complex's barriers, it was quiet, empty, and she breathed in the rough northern air.

Just ahead was a small pond with a trickle of water down rocks that she couldn't really call a waterfall. It glittered just so in the morning light, and the wind across the water brought the scent of dense pines and murky pond seaweed.

It was so unlike the air of her home in the Copse territory. In the northern parts by Neil's territory, the pines were much less dense and they smelled of fresh grass. The only noises were the small animals skittering by and the friendly cackles of Neil's men as they teased the Copses and Cascades.

There were no screams nor the smell of old blood soaked into the bark.

On the south, the Copse territory bordered the ocean, and the salt breeze blew in over the sands and palm there. Her uncle Tide had taken her and her cousin Alec there so many times. Poor Alec's calling was wood magic and he'd been so frightened of the water as a child. 'Roots couldn't save him in the water,' he'd cried as he clung to Tide's leg. Until last year, none of her magic had worked right, so she'd been just as safe in or out of the water.

Today, she would see all of them. Kopje was heading over to the Copse territory with her after he got up, which would be when the sun fully rose. It was hovering the horizon, and she was so excited that she could barely contain herself. The magic in her skin wanted to dance out and form into fireworks, which she could do now with her training.

Alec was a general class mage, and after the last year, he should be almost ready to run his own missions. And what about Neil? Certainly, he hadn't slept the last year away, though she wouldn't be surprised. It would be so great to see how everyone had grown. Last time she'd seen her day potato of a boyfriend, she'd been unable to wield all but the most basic of magics.

Now, with her training, she could harness real power. Kopje favored fire and lightning magics because they were the most powerful and best for killing. They exhausted more magic per punch though, so she had chosen water and wind. The water spells she could use were all mid-range because infiltrators couldn't handle tangible things made with magic, but she liked the even flow on her fingers. All her strongest magics were wind.

Just like Neil's.

Each time she cast a hurricane spell from her palm or formed her wind blades to fight close range, a bit of him breathed against her hair and it had kept her going in the loneliness. Tonight, she would sleep by his side, or at least as much as she could before he went to his nocturnal activities. First, she would meet her family while Neil was tucked away in his lavish comforters behind his thick sun-blocking blinds.

Something brushed against her neck and pulled her from her thought, sending a chill down her, but by the time the dark magic crawled against her back, it was too late.

"Don't move," a deep voice whispered into her ear, the blade at her throat reinforcing the command.

How had the vampire slipped up on her? She'd have sensed dark energy unless he had some way of masking it. If he could do so, then he was no mere border guard. An assassin? For him to come this close to the complex though was risky. It was the only way to catch her out without her partner though.

"Slow now," he rasped, lowering his breath to her neck, and she jumped from a snapping noise.

It took her a moment to realize it was the sound of shackles closing over her wrists, and a cold sweat dripped down the back of her neck. She had to get out of here, but she didn't know what to do. Would she even be able to call for someone before he slapped his hand over her mouth, and what could they do if they heard her even?

"Please don't struggle." The man gripped her shoulder and turned her around to face him, the tip on the blade still shoved up under her chin.

Light blue eyes grazed hers, and she recognized them. The vampire she'd let go. That was what she got for not killing him. Perhaps this was why most mages killed vampires on sight. Listening to their words was only a delaying tactic for them to gain strength and return to exact revenge. Anger coursed through her for her own stupidity and her arms trembled.

"You can be angry, but you are coming with me." The man's expression was cold like all the northern vampires.

The first thing she tried to do was shift through the shackles, which normally she could do, but nothing happened. Normally, she could slip through magic restraints, but these were a different level. With how many infiltrators populated the north, they must have special ones to contain her kind.

She wasn't far outside of the barriers, and even then, vampires didn't come this close to the complexes nor wander into their territory alone. This man was risking a lot coming this far for her, but she wasn't in sight of the complex, so she couldn't get help before he whisked her away. There was nothing she could do physically as he pushed her shoulders to get her to walk further away.

"I let you go!" she protested as she stumbled forward into the woods. It was so dense that she lost sight of the pond in moments and fear spiked throughout her.

This man had slipped up on her undetected, which made him at least general class. She'd thought he'd been some normal vampire trying to get home, not a Zehir general. Kopje would kill her if he found out, but she doubted he'd have the chance. This man was keeping her alive, which meant that she was going to be tortured until they bored of her or used by him. Vampires had a sick way about them when they had women that couldn't fight back.

No one came back from being taken either way.

"Please don't do this..." Silvia begged as he formed a chain of dark magic to her shackles and moved ahead to pull her forward.

Why? Why couldn't she have just gone home? Why couldn't she have brought herself to kill him the night before? It was either return home with the weight of killing a defenseless vampire heavy on her heart, or not go home at all for having mercy and letting him escape.

There had been no winning.

This wasn't fair. She'd been so close to escaping this hell hole of a territory and being with her family again. Now it was all going to be snatched out from under her, and she was losing everything she'd learned over the last year about composure and staying strong.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

They walked in silence until they reached the border of their territories. There were no mages in sight, but that was to be expected. It was impossible for them to patrol the entire length of their boundaries and this man could hear where they were easily. With no desire to linger, the vampire scooped her off of her feet and darted into the sanctity of the Zehir woods. Only a significant distance in, did he set her back on her feet and continue to drag her to their castle.

By the time they got to the bottom of the hills–her stumbling over low brambles and twigs and scraping her arms and legs on various branches and thorns–she'd stopped talking. No matter what she said, he didn't respond, and she was out of words to use. This man didn't care that she'd spared him, only that light magic bled from her veins when she was cut.

The castle wasn't too busy as he headed into a side door. With the sun rising, vampires were sleeping now and the interior of the castle would be barren, all except the day patrols heading out, and the house head who sensed her presence as soon as the man brought her in.

Tanya Zehir.

The woman was a vision of dark skin, and Silvia meant it. There was more skin visible than she had clothes. Like any vampire, her sleek form was toned and her midriff would make men jealous with her tight muscles. That wasn't exactly the first place Silvia's eyes went. It was to the breasts popping out of her top that could barely contain them. Indigo flashed in Silvia's vision, and she knew it was the woman's wavy hair that ended just past her chin, but she couldn't look at the vampiress' face. Instead, she dropped her gaze to the floor.

Vampires could control a mage with their eyes, and though Silvia was immune to such things, that didn't change that looking into the Zehir leader's eyes would get her backhanded into submission. This was bad, and she was trying to figure out just what to do as the woman stepped up to her general.

"Jesse," Tanya crooned, running her hands up to the side of his face. "You don't usually bring snacks home. What have you brought me?"

The woman moved to touch her, and Silvia wanted to stumble back but didn't know if that would make it worse. She settled for tensing every muscle in her body, but Tanya's hand never made it to her. Jesse Zehir outstretched his arm and cut the woman off.

"This one isn't for you," the man finally said something. What he said was strange though. Anything a lesser vampire brought back to the castle was property of their master. Why was he withholding her from his house head?

"Oh?" the woman asked with feigned interest. "This is the woman who spared you last night then."

"Yes," he answered simply.

Tanya snapped her hand past him and lifted Silvia's chin, sending a violent shudder through her as she met the deep pitch eyes on the Zehir leader.

"Blood debt laws only go so far," Tanya said to her or perhaps him. "If your toy tries to flee or does anything suspicious, her life is forfeit. And I know you want to run." This time the woman's words were definitely pointed at her. "Give me a reason to rip your throat out, please."

Silvia needed no more motivation than that to remain silent.

"Tanya, you need rest. You've been hunting the borders all night. Leave me to my indulgences." Jesse sighed, like her stalling him from indulging in her was untoward.

With one final run of her hand up Jesse's face, Tanya sneered at her and spun on her heels. The slow clip clop of her heels on the tile floor echoed in her mind as Jesse yanked on her shackles and she followed him up nearly three flights of stairs. There would be no climbing out of a window, it seemed. Gasping for breath, half out of exertion from the uneven stone stairs and half from fear of what was coming, she stumbled forward as he yanked her into a room.

It was well decorated with lavish tapestries, rugs and shelves, but she didn't get a look at much before he pushed her forward and she fell onto the huge bed ahead of them. Like any vampire's place of rest, it was covered in thick comforters that would block out the sun if the blinds were opened on them, and she crawled back away from him as the chain of dark magic dissipated.

This was their final stop.

Her final stop.

"Don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be," Jesse said, undoing the buttons on his shirt. Thank the heavens he had like sixty of them on that ornate thing.

By the time he had his suitcoat off, she'd stuffed her face into the blankets to avoid looking at him. The boards creaked and she peeked at him as he walked over to the wardrobe and hung it up. He was still wearing a sheer silk undershirt that covered his skin in long sleeves and frilled near the neckline. In that and a slick pair of black pants that hugged his skin, he returned to the bed, and her breath quickened.

They both knew where this was going, and she was at a loss for what to do. In a moment, his fangs would be at her throat, and she couldn't say if he intended anything else, but she didn't give the Zehir men much stock for morality. If she fought him, Tanya Zehir would hear and kill her. Whatever blood debt Jesse owed her, it meant little to him except for that he didn't have to give her to his leader. This man hadn't kidnapped her for tea and a light chat.

His eyes crawled over her form, and she scooted away from him, up toward the head of the bed. It didn't take much imagination as to what he wanted as his gaze lingered on each cut or scratch on her body before he locked eyes on her throat. With a low growl, he prowled closer and his fangs lengthened past his lips. When she'd let him go, he'd been injured and there was no way he was fully healed. Her blood would rejuvenate him far quicker than any blood slave's could.

Mage blood was powerful like that.

"Please..." Silvia tried one last time, tears slipping from her eyes.

In an instant, he was lying on the bed and leaning over her with a hand on her cheek.

"This won't hurt too badly," he whispered into her cheek before lowering his fangs to her neck.

In one last attempt to stop him, she covered both sides of her neck with her hands. She had to do something. If he intended to kill her, she could enforce a blood claim to stop him, but the northern vampires were brutal and would respect no one's ownership over her unless they respected them. She'd been in the north long enough to know that Neil's claim wouldn't be enough. She would have to use the name of someone more powerful, and she wasn't sure if she should get Talamayas wrapped up in this.

That, and if she did so, it would be the last day she'd ever be allowed with the mages. It would cause Talamayas trouble and shame her family in the eyes of the mages. It would have to be a last resort, but she didn't know how long she'd have.

"If you resist, it will only make it worse," the man spoke against her face, sliding his hands into her hair like he had any right to touch her. "Silvia, is it? I gleaned that much while watching your complex. I do not want to hurt you."

"Great job you did of that," Silvia rasped, glaring into his blue eyes just an inch from them.

"You might not happy with this arrangement, but I am not cruel. I want you in my service, and if you obey, you will find me quite giving. I don't harm slaves and I would like us to be close." The man purred his words at the end, and she didn't need more than that to know what he wanted from her.

"I will never sleep with you willingly. I have a mate." Silvia growled, but she whined as he kissed the side of her face.

"Some mage, I'm sure, but how much could he care if he left you alone. You will find me much more protective." He cradled her face in his hands with a smile that showed way too much of his fangs.

"It's not protective if you force me to sleep with you," she used the most threatening voice she could manage shackled and at his mercy.

"My sweet, Silvia, we love the rush of the chase. You'll come to me all on your own once you realize that this is your life. I'm patient but also famished. My wound was no small injury and I need blood. If you struggle, it will hurt more than it needs to. Remove your hands or I'll be tempted to nip at them too."

She refused, but he gripped her manacles and pulled her hands down himself, more gently than she'd expected. As he leaned in and placed his lips on her throat, she relaxed into it as much as she could. He was right. Struggling would tear the flesh at her neck and make this worse, and he'd said he didn't intend to kill her. That meant she had a chance to escape if she went along with his ownership of her.

All she needed was a single chance to escape, but it had to be timed well or Tanya Zehir would rip her throat out. A gasp escaped her as his fangs slipped into her throat. The grip of his jaw on her neck was softer than what she was used to with Neil who had little control of his urges. Neil was younger though, and control of such urges came with time and repetition.

Jesse Zehir certainly was practiced in opening the throats of women.

His lips warmed against her neck as he drank and cradled her. With each swallow, he wrapped himself tighter around her–first a hand in her hair, then one at her hip, and by the time she faded off from blood loss, he had her pressed against his body as tightly as any lover.

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Word Count: 3020