This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

He was touching her where she’d never been touched before, where she shouldn’t be touched by him. Her breasts still prickled in revulsion from where he’d run his hands over them, even though her nipples were stiff from his attention to them.

And oh, god, he was inside her.

But despite her disgust towards him, despite that he was sick, blood-drinking freak of nature, she was aroused. Pleasure sparkled through her abdomen as he tapped her bundle of nerves with his finger and rubbed her clit roughly with his thumb, his black claw occasionally sending an unwelcome jolt when it touched her just right. She made sure to keep her eyes closed, desperate not to be a witness to any of this even though she was a participant.

The pleasure was building, heading exponentially towards a crescendo that she had no power over. It deeply infuriated her. How dare he violate her like this? And yet for all her disgust for him and her situation, the unwanted arousal kept rising and rising and soon she knew that at any moment, she was going to burst.

Instead, she couldn’t stop herself from screaming when he forced a second finger inside her.

His claw had cut her slightly when he added the second digit, and it hurt, but then he resumed his pace. She tried to ignore his light panting above her just as she tried to ignore the sensations building within her. It was proving impossible to fight, however, because even though she was being stretched uncomfortably and even though he had nicked her with his claw, she felt the pressure building, and then-

Sophie couldn’t stop the strangled moan that passed her lips just as much as she couldn’t stop her hips from bucking as she came, hard, onto his fingers. The resulting chuckle was pleased and smug and she couldn’t stop the angry tears that leaked from her eyes even as she rode out wave after wave of intense pleasure, sucking in labored breaths as she orgasmed.

He removed his fingers from her dripping core and there was a pause. Morbidly curious, she peeked at him through shuttered eyelashes, but upon seeing Mikhail licking his fingers clean with a contemplative look on his face, she clenched her eyes shut once more.

And then came exactly what she’d known was coming the whole time; he leaned down, turned her neck to the side, and bit harshly into her jugular.

The pain was just as bad as the first time he had assaulted her, but since she wasn’t entirely shocked by the turn of events, she was able to let out a loud shriek at the sudden pain. He’d reopened the two bite marks where he’d first drank from her and Sophie could only think that the bruise would be even worse now.

Mikhail drank almost sluggishly compared to last time, appearing to savor her blood rather than just greedily pull mouthful after mouthful. In fact, he was barely sucking at all—he just let her traitorous heart pump the blood into his mouth naturally.

It didn’t take long to become lightheaded and soon she was dizzy. Still, before she could fall unconscious, he pulled away, lapping at the two bite marks. She felt him brush the hair away from her face but kept her eyes closed, not sure that she could face him after the shameful, unwanted pleasure he’d forced from her body.

“He was right,” she heard him murmur thoughtfully, but since she had no idea what he was talking about, she ignored it in favor of pretending to be unconscious.

After a while he got off her and unbound his belt from around her wrists. The angle they had been in would undoubtedly make her shoulders sore later, but she didn’t dare move until he was gone. If she was still conscious, there was always the chance that he would want more.

She heard footsteps going away from the couch and in the direction of her front door. Then, his next words came and she knew that he hadn’t believed her act of being unconscious.

“Thursday, same time. Be here… and don’t try anything stupid. I won’t be so merciful if you do something foolish again.” Then the door opened and shut decisively.

He was gone.

Still, Sophie didn’t move for quite a while. She had to be absolutely certain he was gone before she did anything else.

At long last, assured that Mikhail wouldn’t be returning, Sophie opened her eyes. Upon seeing her naked form and ripped clothing, she let out a horrified sob and began to cry wretchedly.

He had violated her! He wasn’t just after her blood—he was going to make her a sex slave! Disgusted and repulsed by him, the situation, and most of all herself for her body’s reaction, Sophie was immediately on her feet, intending to make it to the shower and wash every last trace of him off her.

Unfortunately, he had drained a good deal of blood, although not as much as last time, so she was forced to wait and steady herself on the back of the couch before proceeding upstairs.

Once safely under the hot water, it was all she could do to not scrub her skin until it bled. By the time she was done it was still raw and bright red, almost painful to the touch, but at least she felt remotely clean.

And yet she still felt as though a coat of grime was on her body.

Her phone was ringing, she noticed vaguely, still in something of a daze after the most humiliating episode in her life. Picking it up, she saw that it was Ashley calling. Sophie had no idea what her friend wanted, but she did know that she had nothing to give at the moment. Setting her phone down after rejecting the call and putting it on silent, she stumbled into a pair of pajamas and collapsed onto her bed.

She knew, on some level, that she needed to eat to start replenishing her blood. Glancing at the clock and noticing the late hour, Sophie felt that Thursday wasn’t really all that far away. Of course, knowing that she would see Mikhail again wasn’t helping matters at all—in fact, it only made the span of time seem so much shorter.

This had proved it. He really was a vampire; she had felt the sharpness of his fangs as he pierced her jugular and she had heard his light swallows as he drank her blood. There hadn’t been the slightest stain on her couch and he had drunk every last drop of blood. On top of that, if it wasn’t proof enough, even though his incredible strength could be attributed to a rigorous work-out regime, the way he moved so fast he disappeared for a moment couldn’t be.

Sophie closed her eyes wearily. Her body felt dirty and her heart was heavy while her stomach churned every time she thought about what had just happened. It was all a dream as far as she was concerned. If she let this haunt her, bring her down, she would surely go insane. She just had to ignore her body’s sensations for now.

Somehow convincing herself, however weakly, that this evening had been nothing but her imagination, she drifted off to sleep.

 

Unfortunately, when Sophie woke up the next morning, the first thing that assaulted her was the soreness of her shoulders, and with that came the recollection of what had happened the night previous. It seemed the incident with Mikhail wouldn’t allow itself to be brushed off as a dream or a figment of her imagination.

She staggered out of bed and knew that the weakness of her body—something that she was swiftly beginning to associate with having her blood fed on—would be problematic, given that she had work in barely thirty minutes. Yes, she’d overslept, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. After something so horrible happening to her, Sophie felt she deserved to be cut a little slack.

Despite the achiness of her body and its calling for her to eat something, Sophie could not summon an actual appetite. Even less so could she summon the will to eat the foods Mikhail had instructed her to; it was only serving his purposes all the more. She knew that it was unwise to go against him in such a way and that it would be better to keep up her strength, yet it was impossible to look at food and still actually come to terms with eating it. In a combination of angst, obstinacy, and despair, Sophie decided against eating and simply headed off to work after showering yet again and changing into her uniform.

She noted with some detached form of interest that the bruise had not returned to a bright purple-and-blue like it had been the first time she had been bitten. Eventually logic led her to the realization that because he had not sucked the blood from her body as hard as before, there hadn’t been consequent bruising and so the current mark was still healing unhindered. However, with the fading of the vibrant discoloration came the problem of the actual bite marks becoming more prominent—an issue that was even worse than the bruise should its true cause come to light. Of course, two little punctures holes were easier to miss, but at the same time they were infinitely more difficult to explain. A bruise could be from a fall, an accident, anything—there were many more believable ways to make up a story for that. Hell, she could even add some truth to her lies and say that she’d been mugged and nearly strangled, which would easily provide a cover story for her new phone. The bite marks, which despite their size told a completely different and more complicated story, would take much a more creative and implausible explanation.

Bruise or no, it seemed she would be wearing a scarf indefinitely until she found a way to get rid of her vampiric stalker. And yet with how tired and weary she felt after the past few tumultuous days, Sophie found that she had no energy to pursue a solution to her situation currently. It would present itself soon enough, she told herself. This couldn’t go on forever.

She refused to think about the future—no good thoughts could come from it and she had no energy to spare worrying.

To all who passed her on her way to work, she was sure she looked like she was going for ‘Best Zombie Imitation of the Year.’ Her face was slack and expressionless and from the worried look Ashley shot her when she clocked in for her shift, Sophie knew an interrogation would be coming at their lunch break. Pushing the distressing thought away, she went about her doing job to the best of her ability.

The regulars of Cornerstone who knew her and were familiar with her usually cheerful, vibrant personality expressed concern over her appearance, but Sophie waved them away with a weak smile and a lame excuse. Surprisingly, they tipped even more generously, clearly out of pity for whatever situation was getting her down. Conversely, newer customers tipped less because of her seemingly bad attitude. It was a small comfort that by lunch break she hadn’t come out with any less than usual.

In her books, that was a good thing. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her pay suffered because of her poor appearance and unenthusiastic interactions.

And just as she had predicted, Ashley assailed her immediately behind closed doors.

“Soph, what’s wrong?” she demanded, her big brown eyes shining with worry, and it was all Sophie could do to not start spilling her outrageous secret and cry her heart out onto her best friend’s comforting shoulder.

Even if Ashley would believe her—and with the evidence of the bite marks and the fact that Sophie was not one to make up such a ridiculous story it might be possible—she would gain nothing from it other than temporary comfort, which would of course be marred by the fact that her friend’s life was then in danger. There was nothing to be done.

Sophie forced a smile onto her face. “Nothing, really.”

The expression on her friend’s face told her she didn’t believe that for a second. “Bullshit. Tell me what’s wrong.”

It was something of a shock and perhaps a true sign of how terrible she looked that her bookish, gentle, usually demure friend had sworn so vehemently. All Sophie could do was chuckle half-heartedly and try to evade her orders. “Wow, you’ve been hanging out with Jared too much, Ash. I’ve never heard you cuss before.”

“Cut it out,” Ashley hissed, her anger fueled by concern. At Sophie’s unyielding expression, her eyes softened and she tried a different approach. “I’m worried about you. You were acting so… off yesterday afternoon, and now you look like you’ve been through a disaster.”

Sophie wanted to reply, ‘I have,’ but smartly bit her tongue and just shook her head, making her way to the table and taking a seat. Ashley promptly followed and sat down next to her, unwilling to let the subject drop.

They were silent for a while as Ashley tried to find a way to broach the topic that would get her friend to talk about what was bothering her. Finally, Ashley said, “Do you want me to get you something to eat? It’s on me.”

The blonde shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

There was a long pause. “Sophie, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. Please, trust me. You know you can tell me anything,” her friend tried to reassure her.

At last, Sophie relented as much as she could while keeping Ashley safe. “I know, but it’s not about trusting you. If there was anyone who I could tell my situation to, it would be you. But I literally can’t… it’ll put you in danger.”

Ashley’s chocolate eyes were wide as she processed her best friend’s words. “Danger… ?” she whispered, fear tinging her voice.

“That’s all I can say. I’m trying to figure out how to fix everything, but I really, truly, have to do it on my own,” Sophie responded regretfully.

“Sophie… ” Ashley’s gaze fell to the scarf, pieces of information clicking together in her mind almost audibly as the wheels turned. “Is somebody hurting you?” Her words were dangerously soft, showing the pure outrage that would come if Sophie confirmed her suspicion.

“Ashley, I can’t-”

With a speed that momentarily seemed to rival Mikhail’s, Ashley yanked the scarf away from Sophie’s neck. It had loosened over the course of the morning and with the surprising amount of strength used, it came off easily. Ashley stared at the mottled bruise with abject horror, her jaw dropping as she inhaled sharply through her nose. “Who did this to you?” Ashley’s voice was flat and terrifyingly emotionless—the words didn’t even sound like a question.

Terror flooded Sophie’s system and she made a grab for the scarf, but Ashley’s quick hands pulled the fabric out of her reach.

“Sophie,” Ashley said, tone threatening.

Tears, borne of desperation and fear, filled Sophie’s eyes. “I can’t tell you!” she said, begging her friend to understand. She stood, leaning over the shorter, seated auburn-haired woman in a futile attempt to regain her scarf. “He’ll kill you!”

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself from saying them. She froze as she realized how much she’d given away and Ashley was equally stunned by the fervor and desperation in her friend’s voice. The room fell into a tense silence.

“Ladies!” called an elderly male voice and suddenly, Mr. Tiller had pushed open the door and was strolling inside. Taking advantage of the interruption, Sophie grabbed her scarf from Ashley’s suddenly loose fingers and quickly returned it to her neck, cinching it snugly.

Noticing the coil of tension in the room, Mr. Tiller frowned as he hobbled over. “Everything alright here?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes!” both girls replied at the same time, their voices too high-pitched to make the lie believable.

“Well, I thought I heard some raised voices, so I just wanted to make sure things were okay,” the older man said uncertainly. However, despite everyone in the room knowing that nothing was remotely alright, he went on wisely, “But it seems everything’s fine. Callie’s working the front and Margaret picked up an extra shift, so your break can be a little longer if you want.”

“Thank you,” Sophie said, while Ashley only nodded mutely. Thankfully, Mr. Tiller had lived his fair share of years and knew when to stay uninvolved; Sophie could only thank the heavens that she wouldn’t have to lie to yet another person, because clearly she was going to have to do some fast thinking with Ashley.

The door closed and Sophie took a seat resignedly. Ashley wasted no time. “Tell me everything,” Ashley said sternly once they were assuredly alone. Sophie opened her mouth, feeling that she’d come up with a decent lie, when her friend continued, “And don’t lie. Sophie Hart, you are a terrible liar and I’ll know if you’re making something up.” Then, placing her hands on Sophie’s shoulders and looking her directly in the eyes, she said softly but with great conviction, “I don’t care if my life is in danger. It scares me, but clearly your life is in danger, too. I said I wanted to help and I mean it; you can’t go through something like this alone. Trust me.”

Sophie felt the last of her walls breaking down at her friend’s firm assurance. Everything Ashley had said was true—she really was a horrible liar, and she couldn’t go through this alone even if she wanted to—and at this point, there wasn’t really the option of backtracking. Trembling with fear and disgust at her weakness, Sophie began to tell her story—omitting the part where Mikhail had sexually assaulted her. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to admit it out loud.

“… so I don’t know his reasons or understand why he’s doing any of these things,” she said finally. “Everything’s like a fog. He’s pulling the strings and I’m the puppet! He’s threatened to kill Kenneth and Dean if I tell anyone—and he’ll kill the person I tell. That means that he might go after you and I can’t lose you, Ash. I didn’t want to tell you and I wish I could erase all of this from your mind. If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself!”

Ashley sat silently for a long time and Sophie wondered if her friend thought she’d gone off her rocker. At length, the shorter young woman pointed at her scarf. “Can I look at it more closely?”

Sophie acquiesced, thinking that Ashley needed more concrete proof to back up the outrageous story. After she’d pulled away the scarf, her friend leaned in and inspected the bruise and bite marks more carefully. With a sigh, she pulled away, and then said something that Sophie would never have predicted might come out of her friend’s mouth.

“I thought Jared might be able to do something, but they’re too big. This vampire’s way older than him; he’d be killed instantly.”

Sophie gaped. “Wait… you know? And what do you mean, too big?”

Ashley exhaled slowly, looking at Sophie almost bashfully. “Jared told me he was a vampire once things started… uh, looking serious. It’s the main reason I don’t fit in with his friends, actually, and one of the reasons I’m hesitant to stop seeing him; I don’t want him to think that I’m going to say anything and get the wrong idea. Vampires are dangerous in general, but the secret of their existence is something they’d definitely kill over.” She paused for a moment, then continued. “The size of a vampire’s fangs—when feeding—can sometimes give you an idea of how old they are, and by extension how powerful they are. Typically, the older the vampire, the stronger they are. There are some cases where that rule is broken and a vampire becomes more powerful than their age would normally allow, but apparently it’s pretty rare. Jared isn’t even one hundred yet and judging by the size of his marks, I’d say Mikhail is way older.”

Sophie’s heart stopped in her chest. ‘Way older?’ What did that mean? How powerful would that make him? A shiver of fear shot down her spine.

“However,” Ashley continued, noticing her friend’s terrified face, “I can ask Jared, but he’s never said anything about telepathic powers. Some can do a little mind control through glamours—a spell of sorts—yes, but nothing about direct mind-reading. So unless I do something to warrant his attention, there’s no real way that I know of that he could find out that I know anything.”

Too afraid to hope, Sophie stammered out, “B-but couldn’t he use one of these… glamours to make you tell him if you know, if he suspected something maybe?”

Ashley smirked knowingly and Sophie’s heart leaped hopefully. Unbuttoning the top of her uniform, she motioned to a thin necklace that had a small, diamond-shaped jade pendant. “It’s a charm that wards off that kind of control,” she explained. Seeing the doubt in Sophie’s eyes, she went on. “It’s made of sterling silver, which burns vampires if they touch it, so it’s very difficult for them to take it off—and, conveniently, there’s a bit of magic in it warms up when a glamour is being used, so I can just fake my way through whatever they try to use one.” She looked at it fondly. “Jared got it for me as a birthday present. Most vampires like to think no one else knows about them, so they usually don’t suspect things like this.”

“I need one,” Sophie said breathlessly.

“Not yet,” Ashley said, shaking her head slowly. “If you suddenly start wearing one, he’ll definitely know you told someone. You can’t find information like this on the internet.” Smirking wryly, she added, “I’ve already tried. Trust me, I had to do some research of my own after finding out about all this.”

Overloaded with the information and sudden turn of events, Sophie exhaled loudly and slumped in her seat. “What else can you tell me that I should know?”

Ashley had a thoughtful look on her face for a long moment before speaking again. “Well, I’m not sure, but I think this… thing with Mikhail is temporary.” When Sophie’s features lit up, Ashley smiled sadly. “I can’t say for sure, but I know from experience that vampires usually don’t spend time with us humans other than for the purpose of feeding. The fact that Jared doesn’t want me solely as a walking, talking blood bag is one of the reason we have so many problems. That kind of inter-species love is highly disapproved of by many, especially older, more conservative vampires. Given how old Mikhail probably is, I doubt he’s very progressive in that line of thinking. If a vampire wants to be with a human, usually they’ll just turn them. Immortality and all.”

Sophie nodded. It wasn’t a surefire hope, but it was something to latch onto—until an even more terrifying thought came to mind. “Then… when he’s done, he’ll kill me, right?”

“No!” Ashley said, fervently and loudly. At Sophie’s wince, she said more quietly although with no less conviction, “I’m not going to let him kill you. We’ll find a way out of this. Together.”

Smiling genuinely at her best friend, Sophie clasped her hands over Ashley’s. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Oh my god, thank you!”

And then she was sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Ashley was holding her and rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Ashley cooed. Even if it felt like nothing was okay, Sophie found it within herself to believe her words for just a little bit.

But that little bit was enough to give her hope for the future.

Sophie had started to calm down when Ashley glanced at the clock. “Hey,” she said gently, “Do you want me to ask Mr. Tiller to send you home early?”

“No,” Sophie replied after a slight moment of hesitation. “No, just in case he’s watching, I can’t give off any signs that something might have changed. He seems to… like to watch me.” She hadn’t forgotten the creepy feeling of his eyes following her Monday evening.

Ashley nodded seriously. “Alright. Well, then we’d better get back out there. Callie’s going to come in and start biting our heads off if we leave her out there alone with Margaret any longer.”

Sophie couldn’t help but laugh weakly. Callie Corradier was a beautiful older woman but someone who had a very strict and severe attitude; it was a generally bad idea to piss her off. Conversely, Margaret was a ditzy, somewhat air-headed individual with more bosom than brain and tended to annoy Callie when they worked simultaneously.

Ashley headed out to clock back in while Sophie took a moment to dry her eyes and clean up a little. It was no wonder Ashley had been so concerned; she looked terrible. The bags under her eyes were decidedly pronounced, she looked pale, and her hands were trembling slightly, probably because of the less-than-usual amount of blood in her body. Vaguely, she knew that she should eat, but even after all the relief of knowing she wasn’t alone she still couldn’t rummage up an appetite.

However, she was much cheerier for the rest of the afternoon and that resulted in better tips and a better day altogether. With a slight spring in her step, Sophie went to clock out. Passing Ashley on her way to the cash register, her friend quietly told her to meet her in the break room before leaving. It sounded urgent and now worried, Sophie quickly wrote in the current time and then headed to the back to wait.

Five minutes later, Ashley came through the door. Walking over to her friend, she leaned in and began to speak softly, clearly conscientious of the possibility of being overheard. Sophie was willing to bet that more and more of their conversations were going to be carried on in hushed whispers from that day forward.

“I was thinking about everything and in order to move forward in getting him out of your life, you’re going to have to go out of your comfort zone,” Ashley said, her words weighted with apprehension. Sophie nodded, nervously gesturing for her friend to continue. “You need to get to know him.”

As much as it made sense, the mere thought of getting to know her attacker was horrific.

Ashley saw her petrified look and shook her head, as though disagreeing with Sophie’s fear. “I know it’s going to be hard, but we need more information to work with. It’ll be slow going because if you look too interested too fast he’ll know something is going on. Try getting him to open up. It’ll be hard and scary, but we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Swallowing with some difficulty, Sophie said, “Go on. What do I need to ask him?”

“His exact age would be helpful, and any clues you can get to find out just how powerful he is without directly asking him. You have to be careful, really careful, because if he catches on that you’re up to something I have no doubt that he’ll… do something drastic.” What she really meant was that he’d kill her. “Find out why he chose you and if he does things like this often. That will give us a better of understanding of what he’s using you for and how important you are in the grand scheme of things. As much as it kills me to put it this way, we need to find out valuable you are to him. It’s a double-edged sword; the less valuable, then your life is in much more danger. The more valuable, the likelier that he’ll need to be eliminated completely if you want to ever get away from him.”

“I don’t mind getting rid of him no matter how valuable I am to him,” Sophie couldn’t help but interject vehemently. The thought of killing someone frightened her and the thought of going head-to-head with Mikhail was certainly suicide, and yet she didn’t find herself objecting to the idea of killing him even then.

“I know,” Ashley replied understandingly. “Just… find out how old he is, what he wants from you, why he wants you, and more than anything, listen closely to everything he says. Something that might seem completely useless could turn out to be crucial information.”

“He, uh, doesn’t talk much anyway… ” Sophie felt chills run down her spine at the thought of his smooth, baritone voice. When he did choose to speak, it usually made her shiver in fear.

“You need to change that.”

Sophie glanced at her friend, about to object, when Ashley cut her off.

“You really have to. The more he talks, the more information you’ll get. You have to be completely inconspicuous about it and don’t give him the impression that you’re really listening or that you care, but he could slip something really important that would make it easier to get rid of him.”

The way Ashley looked at her made Sophie realize just how dire this was to her survival, no matter how much she didn’t want to do it. The saying ‘know thy enemy’ held a meaning now for her that she’d never fully grasped before and with a resolute nod, she agreed to do as Ashley told her. She would have to draw on all the inner strength she could muster to overcome her reservations because this was literally life or death.

“Good,” Ashley said, much louder and brightly. It was a clear attempt to cover for their long, hushed discussion. “Well, you’d better go home, and Callie’s going to shit kittens if I’m in here any longer.”

Sophie burst out in surprised laughter at Ashley’s crude words and then gave her friend a long, heartfelt hug despite the fact that her grip was weak before leaving the break room and then pushing out the front doors of Cornerstone.

She was surprised when she felt her stalker’s eyes following her as she walked home. It was five in the evening, a little earlier than she usually got off, and even though it was very cloudy out, surely he couldn’t be out in the sun regardless of the time of day? Suddenly more afraid than she had been before, Sophie quickened her steps this time instead of moving stiffly like before. Taking a deep, steeling breath, she tried to look a little less like a frightened mouse and more like a warrior who may or may not have been walking into a losing war.

It wasn’t much of an improvement, really, but she couldn’t give off the impression that anything had drastically changed. But despite her outward change of tune, she still wilted in relief after closing her front door and the feeling of being watched went away.