Clair went back to her home and tried to draw but just didn't feel like it. She felt a bit mentally off. Living
like this was just not how she wanted to keep going. She rubbed her forehead.
She'd been going back to the studio regularly, but now she was holding back on that a bit. She just
didn't seem able to focus. She kept thinking about Isaiah and it was growing worse. She didn't
understand it. The more she tried not to think about him the more she would. It was horrible, how badly
she wanted his touch. How badly she wanted to hear his voice and feel the possessiveness of him.
She put a hand on her face. She was starting to wonder if she had Stockholm syndrome.
She knew that the condition was where victims started to identify with their captors. They started to feel
sympathetic toward them. Developed feelings for them. She didn't feel hate toward him anymore. She
was lost at what she felt toward him. Yet she knew that her skin crawled with want of his touch. She put
her head on her knees.
She was getting very tired of hiding, tired of living like this. It was useless and hopeless. He'd catch her
one of these times when she slipped up. Wouldn't it just be better to go to him when she wanted to?
Really it was her choice. If he simply wished to use her and then kill her it might be better than living
like this.
Clair was feeling depressed. Her emotions lately had been swinging from one end to the other. She
knew she was just growing tired of it all. Clair moved to the edge and climbed down. She went out into
the hall to go clean up and dress. Then back into her little home. She'd decided on her next course of
action. She was going to just hand herself over to fate.
Just laying there thinking she fell asleep. When she woke her mind had not gotten better. Just felt lost
and needful. Sad and resigned at the same time so she moved and climbed out of the vent and slowly
walked thinking. She moved to the closet of dresses. Went through them to find what she wanted for
what she was going to do. She wanted him to be in a good mood. Receptive and her doing what he
liked got her that. Clair stood turning to face the mirror in the room that she was in. She didn't know
how he would respond to what she had in mind.
She wore a white dress from the closet. It was shorter with a deep plunging neckline. She didn't wear
shoes, she never did anymore. No point to it, it was easier to move silently in the house without them.
Clair gave a nod to herself in the mirror. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her, and her eyes were
tired looking. She felt tired, hence why she was just going to go and find him to see just what he had
planned.
She moved down the halls slowly feeling for where he was. As she should have guessed, the piano
room. He really enjoyed that room. He really enjoyed music period. It was an odd thing, something so
simple and normal. It just didn't fit his image of a killer and creature.
Clair had everything set for what she was going to say. With a deep breath she moved to the doorway
of the piano room. The music was gentle but a kind of darkness to it. She just stood there for a moment
in the doorway unsure of what she wanted to say now. It just didn't seem to be right, it had been easier
on the walk here. His eyes were looking down, but they closed for a bit longer than a normal blink. She
knew that he sensed her there. He looked up still playing, his eyes hazel as it moved over her.
"I'm surprised to see you." Was all he said, though she could see that more than one thought was
going through his head. There was also a critical look. She was sure part of him wondered if she was
going to attack or something. No one approached him so calmly. There was no turning to run now and
she knew that.
Clair glanced away from him and stealing herself she moved over toward where he was playing. He
watched her, she could tell that he was truly confused by her approach when she never willingly did
such a thing.
"I have something to ask you. Well, more of a request really." She'd have laughed if she wasn't feeling
so dower. He looked her over clearly seeing if she had a weapon or something. Which she didn't, and
his gaze moved over her a bit differently a moment later. He stopped playing, a slight smile came to
him.
"I don't give things for free you know." He stood to his full height and Clair tried to not feel too
intimidated by his presence. She had made up her mind, and she was going to do this her way. She
would get her request or she would just rather die now. She failed horribly though at not feeling
intimidated. Hence she didn't meet his eyes. However she came here to do this and just get it over
with, and she wasn't going to back down.
"It's not really a request that I think you'd get nothing out of." Clair moved forward standing very close
to him she raised her hands and hesitated a moment. Isaiah just watched her. Her actions were very
odd and he didn't know what to make of them. Always the enigma, he honestly did not know how to
react to this yet.
Clair put her hands on the top of his chest. A soft touch but one nonetheless, and he enjoyed even the
slightest touch from her. She moved her hands closer together taking hold of the front of his shirt,
where she kept her gaze. He could feel that she was trembling slightly. His desire to see what she was
going to do kept him from taking action. He felt excitement suddenly.
"I'm tired, very tired. I don't feel much like running anymore. Nor do I wish to hide for long periods of
time playing cat and mouse." He heard it in her voice and a bit of sadness. That was interesting to him.
Clair didn't tend to be much like this. He wondered what had brought it on. The fact that he thought
about it. That he found it mattered made him wonder about himself.
"What exactly do you wish to ask Clair?" He questioned looking down at her. She had undone the top
button of his shirt and moved to the next. Her hands slightly shaky but growing stronger. She glanced
up at him and he saw a bit of that spark that drove her. He still wasn't sure what she was doing. She
had to know the second she came near him, he wasn't going to let her walk away. It had been over a
week. Near two since he'd enjoyed her last and he wanted again.
"I don't know if you've made up your mind yet. So, I ask that when you get around to it, you kill me
quickly. I'd prefer to not have a drawn out and painful death. It's the only thing that I'm asking." He was
having a problem focusing on what she was saying.
He had to really recenter himself for a second because other thoughts were running through his head.
She'd undone the buttons of his shirt now. Slid her hands against his chest to his side, his body
responded instantly. He looked at her, his eyes darker now with lust. She really got a reaction from him.
A very forceful one and all she had to do was touch him.
"Would you promise me that?" She asked, he didn't really see why not. To be honest if he was going to
kill her it wasn't going to be all that painful with the way he'd do it.
"Yes, I give my word." She seemed to relax a little and he wondered if perhaps she'd come in this room
with the chance that she might not be leaving it. Actually that was probably her exact thought. He
wasn't ready to be rid of her, and he wasn't sure that he wasn't going to keep her yet. He’d never felt
torn on a decision before and he really thought about it now.
"Thank you." She said leaning forward and pressing her mouth to his chest. He tensed at the action.
Clair had never voluntarily done such a thing, it was always him. He always had to be the one to start it
to force her hand. Over the weeks that she had been free he'd had to actively hunt her down for this.
Coax her to participate, and her mouth lightly kissing his chest instantly made him hard and needful. He
felt transfixed for a moment watching her. She was so very different from all the others. The intimacy
was real, not a forced thing right now.
She moved her mouth down his chest to his stomach slowly and even if he'd wanted to speak he
couldn't have. His body burned from her touch. He'd had others that had touched him this way, but he'd
never had such a strong reaction. Never truly wanted their touch. Her though, it felt like a hot brand
instead of her mouth.
Clair moved her hands from his sides to the edge of pants, sliding them to the front. They were low
already on his hips and the brush of her fingers was soft and made the skin there tingle slightly. She
undid the top of his pants. His hand went to the hair at the back of her head. He took a fistful of it and
forced her head up to look at him.
"Why?" He asked, not that he didn't want her to. Or now that she was on her knees he wasn't going to
make her continue. She was such an enigma to him. She was actively trying to please him. Just the
fact that she touched him of her own free will was a thrill in itself.
"Because as much as I tried not to, I want you." Her gaze moved from him. He saw that it tore at her
that she could want him. That she did want him not because it would give her time or freedoms, but
because she genuinely wanted his touch. A deep satisfaction came to him. He felt a very strong glee at
this. That he'd managed to snare her this way.
"Besides," She said pulling the edge of his pants down farther. "You don't give things for free. I'm sure
you'd like your reward." She brought her head forward and took him into her mouth. He made a low
hissing sound. Her mouth felt damn good sliding over him. Nearly as good as her body always did. The
hand he had in her hair tightened to the point of pain.
The woman was perfect, and his, his perfect little female. She moved with slow deliberate movements
sucking him. She took all of him too despite his size and her slight reflex. She glanced up at him and it
was sexy as hell her hooded expression. It wasn't enough though, coming in her mouth would be
satisfying, making her swallow around him. However, sinking between her legs was what he enjoyed
most.
It took him a good amount of effort to move. He pulled her up so she was flush against him, she met his
gaze. While his was black hers was a bright aqua. He'd already been very close to deciding how to
deal with her. Her action right now sealed the deal. He brought his hands up and tipped her head up by
holding either side of her neck. His thumbs braced under her jaw.
"I want to hear your voice." He loved the sound of it, even when she talked it was soft and musical.
"Sing for me." She looked confused, like she didn't get it. That was clearly not what she'd come in here
for. If it was a thing of his she'd do it. She started to sing, and he moved pulling her with him. He didn't
know why nor did he really care. Sound was stimulating to him. Especially rhythmic sound, he pulled
her back to the chase lounge.
Isaiah sat and pulled her so she had to kneel on either side of him. He bunched the material of her
short dress and held it to her hips pulling her down onto him. There was a hitch and a very slight pause
in her song but he enjoyed her reaction. The way her body tensed around him. He brought a hand up
to the back of her neck.
He moved his mouth over the front of her throat. Could feel the soft vibrations against his lips. With his
other hand he forced her hips to move. Lowered his other hand to have more control over her
movements. Making her ride him, and what a terrific slick glide she was. She paused again with a
sharp moan. He ripped the top of the dress so it pooled at her hips and he had access to her full firm
breasts. He bit down on the soft flesh nearly breaking skin. It just made her voice hitch again.
Clair dropped her hands to his shoulders and moved with his guidance. Her body felt so good to him,
so tight and hot. He forced her down harder onto him, and he lowered his head to the side of her breast
sliding his tongue over it before sucking lightly. She was incredibly wet and grew more so. Her body
was clearly begging him to do as he pleased, and he suddenly wanted full control. If her body was
begging to be fucked then he was going to do it proper and hold her down while he did it.
He took hold of her and turned pulling her below him on the lounge and covered her mouth with his
silencing her. Isaiah moved his body with a desperate need. She moaned into his mouth, her hands
digging into his shoulders through the material of his shirt. He ground into her, one leg around him and
the other braced against his arm lifted higher. She could not help the little sounds she made.
There was something different about the way that he took her this time. Clair just knew it, she could
feel it. He was just as demanding, just as rough and intense, but it just felt different to her. He ground
into her, his left hand going to her hip. Then lower on her thigh gripping it and pulling it up tighter to him
than loosely over him. He thrust into her lifting her hips off the lounge. He lifted his head a slight growl
emanating from him before moving it closer to her neck and ear.
"I want to taste you, so very much." He said against her throat closing his mouth over it, but he didn't
break the skin. He couldn't so long as the promise he'd just made a few minutes ago held. Yet he didn't
think she would deny him. All she had to say was yes and he could take again. She put a hand to the
back of his head.
"Yes." She gasped out and he bit down instantly. Her cry of pain was sharp but short lived. The hot
sweet liquid poured into his mouth. The energy in it was what he really wanted. Clair was so full of life,
even in her depressed state she'd been in as of late.
Clair cried out arching against him. He moved harder and faster, she couldn't think anymore. It felt like
he was in the back of her throat again. When he got like this, she didn't know how she managed to take
him. He felt like velvet wrapped in steel inside of her with how hard he was. He pulled her body onto
him as he fully buried his body in hers for his release. He gave a muffled hoarse cry against her neck.
His tongue moving over her throat before he looked down at her.
His black eyes impossible to read. His body sated in one go. He grabbed her arms pulling them from
him and gripped her wrists in one hand. He pinned them above her head bent slightly near the top of
the lounge. His body still in her. Hers still rippled around him and he enjoyed the feel. He held her
pinned there and raised his free left wrist to his mouth and bit down hard. He saw the sudden spike of
fear in her eyes. She couldn't go anywhere, and fighting him would be useless. He had her where he
wanted her and so he'd do as he pleased. She shifted below him, and his body jumped in response to
how hers gripped him for a moment.
"Open your mouth Clair." She kept it closed. This was not what she expected coming in here. She
wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Just that she knew it would probably be more control over her
or something. She didn't want her will stripped away.
"Open it or I will force it open, even if I have to break your jaw." She hesitated for a moment and then
opened her mouth. He pressed his bleeding wrist to her mouth.
"Swallow." He said knowing that the blood was pooling in her mouth.
Clair tasted the warm blood that seemed to pour into her mouth. It was coppery, yet had an odd almost
licorice taste to it. She didn't want to swallow because she didn't know what would happen after she
did. She hadn't even wanted to open her mouth, but she didn't doubt that if he got angry enough he
really would break her jaw.
She could feel a little bit of the blood running down the side of her face. He leaned down, his arm at a
bent angle against her mouth. He still held her wrists. She wanted to bolt from the room to get far away
from this, but it was far too late for that.
His mouth closed over the front of her neck and he bit down. Not hard enough to break the skin or
cause damage but enough to bruise. She couldn't help the need to make a sound of pain and the blood
rushed down her throat. He did it to make her swallow the blood. She felt a couple hot tears from the
pain of him biting her throat. He studied her for a moment.
"Again." He said to her. Her eyes narrowed but this time she swallowed on her own. "Better." He said to
her clearly annoyed.
Isaiah could see the questions and anger in her expression. There was a touch of fear as well but just
the passion that she seemed to feel everything with. He watched her gaze waiting, it would just be one
second and he'd know it had been done.
Clair went suddenly very still and the slight sound of a gasp came against his wrist. What he'd been
waiting for happened. Her vivid green eyes changed like an odd paint spilling over them. The solid
black taking over. He pulled his wrist away from her and her eyes went back to their normal color. After
this they would never change like that again. He looked at his wrist for a moment. The wound was
nearly healed now.
"What did you do to me?" She asked. Clair had felt ice run down her spine and then her vision had
grown sharper but duller in color.
"I've made you immortal." He answered like it was a trivial matter. He wanted to keep Clair and her
mortal condition wasn't going to allow him that. She was immortal. Though not truly like he was. She
would heal from most wounds and live so long as no one did her any real damage.
"You...but why?" He could see that she'd clearly thought he'd choose to kill her.
"I enjoy you very much Clair. I want you here until I decide otherwise."
"I don't know what to say to that." She said, because she really felt... owned. More like a piece of
property than before. However she was being given life. She had value and so long as he felt that she
was valuable. She would have freedoms she hadn't before.
"It doesn't really matter. The same rules still apply to you. They're always going to apply to you so long
as you live."
"What if I get away?" She asked. She didn't think that she would but she had to ask. His gaze grew
very dark, he didn't answer at first.
"I suggest that you don't think about it. I'll kill you or anyone I feel has even a remote chance of leaving
this place."
"Understood." She said. "I just hate being property."
"So do I." She looked at him. Living here she tended to forget that he was owned just as much as she
was. Those that trapped him here did indeed consider him to be their property. Their living battery, at
least they left him alone most of the time. They didn't have to live in fear every day. Wake up every
morning and wonder if today was their last day.
He lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss wasn't as harsh or demanding as normal. It was closer to a slow
and leisurely tasting of her. Clair let him, and kissed him back as well. Why she was so torn on this she
didn't know. Logically she should never want this, but she did. There wasn't much she could do about it.
Isaiah's head suddenly snapped up and he looked toward the door of the room.
"Fuck." He snarled and moved quickly getting up and pulling her with him. She had no idea what
caused his sudden anger and irritation. Plus there was an unease there. What would make him feel
unease? She also noted the atmosphere of the house changed too.
"Hide, and don't come out no matter what." He commanded. His tone very serious. He moved toward
the door pulling his pants fully up. Clair felt a little unsteady and she was confused but she left the
room, and changed quickly.
Clair was leaving the room to go to the vents when Gamma came running around the corner. She
came up to Clair following her. She had been sent to make sure that she would indeed follow
instructions. Not to mention the hell hound had to see to her safety.
From Gamma she managed to get that the family was here. They were coming to find Isaiah to get
blood from him and to kill her. She didn't think they could do that, wasn't that against the rules? But
what did she really know? Only bits and pieces. What would they care about some woman stuck in
here?
"Why?" Clair asked Gamma. How did they even know about her, even remember her.
'Michael has seen you, he thinks you are a threat to them.' Gamma mentally spoke. Clair remembered
back to when they were here earlier. She'd heard one of them called out to her. They’d shouted for her
to stop and come back in the kitchen. She’d ignored them, had it been Michael? Clair got into the vent
and hid. She wasn't coming out until she was sure that the coast was clear. Isaiah was no longer the
type of danger she needed to fear most. Michael and his family were.
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