To Freeze Fire

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. There were too many things that had transpired the tireless night before. So many things had happened to her, that, if she were to be complexly honest with herself, she would admit that she hadn't completely wrapped her head around it all. 'Stupid, I'm so freaking stupid' she cursed herself. 'It would be my luck to have a bounty hunter sent after me that picks and chooses when to grow a conscience'

Rubbing her wrists, she could still feel the metal around it from where Michael had cuffed her to him after they changed clothes. Many times throughout the night, she had purposely tried to break free, as she had done in Phoenix. She only made herself cold in the process, the ice only reaching midway up the chain, never to any avail. The moment she had been set free, she darted into the bathroom to be alone with her thoughts.

Going over the things that had occurred in the past 24 hours, two things stuck out in her mind. One was how he was so very determined to return her to the grey headed man. And two, how reluctant—no—that was the wrong word—how he had straight up refused to take her virginity. Now, she was thankful he hadn't. If he had taken her, and everything still had happened the same way, she couldn't live with herself. The sense of betrayal would be that much more.

She stared at the mirror, looking at the bruises she had on her hips. He was strong, though at the moment in time, she couldn't for the life of her recall him using enough force to cause them. For her first experience with a man, she kind of thought of them as battle wounds, that would fade with time. Something even worse though, may take their place if she didn't find some way to escape his clutches.

Turning on the shower, she slid her lace underwear down her hips and to the floor next to her shirt and skirt she had already taken off. Her bra followed the items in a heap at her feet before she edged her way into the water. She thought this may help somehow. Taking a shower, using fragrant soaps , in doing so washing away all traces of him. It didn't.

If anything, the warm water caused her to think of his hands, his lips, and his kiss. Her hand strayed down on its own accord, almost coming in contact with her clit when there was a sudden rapping on the bathroom door. Blood flooded her cheeks, her whole body going ridged. "Y—yes?"

"You didn't say you were taking a shower." Michael thundered from the other side of the door.

The desire that had began to fill every cell of her being, flowed to anger. "Since when do I need you permission?" she asked cynically, throwing the words at him as if they were punches.

The bathroom door opened, his bellowing voice informing her, "Since you became my responsibility; my captive. Take ....your....pick."

Her eyes went wide, jerking the shower curtain to the wall as far as it could to hide herself, "H—hey!" she yelled, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing! GET OUT!"

From the other side of the shower curtain, she could hear him clucking his tongue, like she was a disobedient child, "You're really going to be that modest after our little session earlier?"

"You didn't see me naked earlier!" she retorted.

"Not for a lack of wanting to." He grumbled, with obvious dissatisfaction.

"Just get out, or I'll scream." He seemed to take her words in for a few moments, as though he was weighing out the options, consequences if she did. She did the same by questioning herself if this may be her way out.

"If you scream, I'll kill everyone that hears you." He muttered in a cold sounding voice, a shiver running up her spine considering she had always associated him with heat. "Just hurry up, we have to leave in ten minutes."

A few footsteps prior, she heard the door to the bathroom closed. Alone, she thought of what she had been doing moments before, what she had wanted to do. Despite the shit being scared out of her, she still felt the desire to end the ache within her.ten minutes would surely be enough to...

'You're really going to risk him walking in on that?' she shook her head, finishing lathering her skin and hair with suds, cleaning every portion she felt had been exposed to him. One place she couldn't reach. And she didn't mean her pride alone.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she reached for the yellow towel on the rack to the right, first taking to the ends of her hair, and gradually patting herself dry. She was about halfway finished when she realized something was terribly wrong with this picture. The floor was bare. Her clothes were gone.

"God—Fucking---Damn it" she cursed, wrapping the towel around her, tucking it in at her chest to one side. She opened the door a fraction, sticking her hand out, "Give me my clothes."

"If you want to talk to me, you had better come out here." He whispered serenely, almost into the crack in the door, "Hard of hearing after all that yelling you just did, ya know."

"You're fucking crazy if you think I'm coming out there in only a towel." She all but growled.

It would appear he had an answer for that too. "Well, if you'd like, you can leave the towel in the bathroom."

"I thought you said we were leaving in ten minutes!" somehow, she thought pointing out this detail would be enough to hand over her clothes he had stolen. However, it had the exact opposite effect than she had hoped.

"I'm well aware." He said, "Which is why if you don't come out here in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to be coming in to put your clothes on myself. And I can't promise your underthings will go on first..."

'crap, crap, crap!' what was she going to do? She said the first thing that came to mind, "What happened to not forcing women to do things they don't want to?"

"20, 19, 18..." he began to announce in a booming voice.

'Fuck me,' her thoughts screamed, "Ok...OK!"

She opened the door, and walked through the threshold, leaving behind the only partially safe place she knew. His eyes were focused on the towel immediately, a crooked smile pulling one side of his lips higher than the other. Standing there, she bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling, holding a hand out, "My clothes please?"

His eyes scanned the full length of her, as if remembering every detail for his demented mind to repurpose. "No."

"E—excuse me?" she rasped, her voice steadily becoming strained the moment she stuttered. He couldn't possibly have lied to her just to get her out of the bathroom. 'Oh yes, that's exactly what this shit hole did!' her thoughts screamed, her vision turning red with anger, "You said if I come out you'd give them to me!"

"Recall, dear one," his smile widened on that one side, pulling the other to better match it, "I told you that if you wanted to talk to me, to come out. Having me return your clothing to you was never a part of the bargain."

"Oh!" she fumed, "Who the f—"

"I want you to answer a question" he interrupted, "If you answer truthfully, I'll give you your clothes back. And you have to explain, no simple yes or no."

Her eyes went searching for her backpack, wondering why she was even entertaining the assholes amusement and sense of control over her. It too was missing. 'Fuck!'

She bit down on her lower lips almost hard enough to make it bleed, "What is your question?"

"Normally I don't ask these things, but you seem quite certain that upon your return home, that you will be harmed. I'm curious as to why. What caused you to run away from home three years ago?"

The blood drained from her face, a light headed feeling taking over. Why on earth did he have to ask that question above all others? It would have been less painful for her to drop the towel and let him see her bare, than to let him inside her head.

"Why does it matter?" she muttered looking to the floor, feeling suddenly more naked. A part of her mind enlightened her of what this could mean. A possibility of why he would be asking such a question. The proposition looked like her only way out, "All you have to do is finish the drive to Maine, and you'll never have to see my face again."

"I'm the one with the leverage here." He signaled waving her bra slowly, "Answer the question."

Rolling her eyes, she sighed, "fine."

With a deep breath, she leaned against the threshold, "On my eighteenth birthday, my father took me out of town, saying that he wanted to go night fishing like we used to before..." her voice cracked and she shook her head, he didn't need to know the specifics, "Anyway, when we got to the lake, the sun had just set, and I could see someone on the back, looking straight at me. When we got out, the stranger started to approach us. He announced that he was there on behalf of a man named Zael, who was ready to honor the agreement my father had arranged. Before I could get my senses about me to ask what arrangement he was talking about, he grabbed my hand, and slipped a very expensive ring on my ring finger, and it all came together." She lifted her eyes, meeting his unreadable expression with a tear filled gaze, "My father arranged my marriage complete stranger. When I turned eighteen, I was no longer his problem."

He said nothing, made no attempt to hand her clothes back, as was the agreement. Like he was staring at her, but not really seeing her. A feeling crept up on her, more than embarrassment than to have revealed such a private and hurtful moment of her past that had scared her, but one of fear. There was this look in his eyes that reminded her of how people look right before they would have a seizure, or in shock, this blank, vacant looking thing.

"Michael?" she whispered, leaning back off the threshold, moving one step at a time towards him, repeating his name even louder followed by snapping her fingers, "Hello, is any one home?"

It took her crossing the entire room before getting his attention, though he at last, looked down at her. She made a grab for her clothes, and the moment she made contact with his skin, she knew she had made a mistake. 'His skin is so hot!' she thought, 'It's like he has a high fever?'

"Why...?" she began to ask, looking up from his hand, to his face where she only had a split second warning before his lips closed over hers. Moments passed, and still he made no attempt to grab her in any way. Her eyes closed, and she could hear him drop her clothes to the floor, then his hands on her face, kissing her so thoroughly she went weak in the knees quickly

He placed her hands on his chest.

"How do we keep arriving here, Mia?" he sighed, dropping his forehead to hers, the tone sounding helpless, concerned. Was it possible he felt this crazy attraction towards her as well? A shiver went up her spine; it was like she was hearing him speak for the first time, saying her name like that. Then everything shattered. "I have to take you back."

She pushed at his chest, and picked her clothes at their feet, darting as quickly as she could away from him, retreating from battle.

Something inside her felt abandoned. God, why did she always feel like crying around him? There was something wrong with her. There had to be. 'It's the way he looks at me,' she thought, 'when he gets close to me...'

"Maybe you father can be reasoned with, Mia." He offered as she closed the bathroom door to have some privacy, she commenced to get dressed, crying like a child, careful not to inhale to quickly or do anything that would otherwise tip him off she was doing so. "You have been gone for three years after all. Surely your old man would try to hand you off just like that."

She yanked her shirt over head, yanking the bathroom door open, "You tell me, you really think that grey headed man would pay you god knows how much to have a family reunion?" she shook her head sure. "You met the man yourself, but let me tell you, if he paying you that handsomely, it's not because he wants to see me. It's because this Zael person wants to seal the arrangement, or pressuring him about it."

"The grey headed man...he's your father?" he sounded shocked. It gave her a certainty that she had gotten her point across, that the man, who was her own blood, was a monster; uncaring about her well being, cruel.

"I haven't referred to him as my father even to myself, for years, until tonight so that you could know who he was." She shrugged by him, almost knocking him out of her path. Starting to search more efficiently for her backpack, she found it stashed under the bed. "Since you bent on taking me back to my father, and collecting what I can presume my dear old dad is withholding on your dues, all I ask is that you give me the chance to defend myself. Don't take me back empty handed."

She unlocked the door to their room, tossing her backpack over her shoulder. He went out before her, and after returning the key to the room, they sat in the car, silent for a time. It was like he couldn't believe what she was saying, about her attitude about this. 'I can't show him how terrified I am about this. It might ruin the only chance of getting out of this alive. She had been right all along. He wouldn't release her, but he might supply her with what she may need to escape again.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked raising a brow, "Weapons? You really think you can use something like that against you father if he threatened your life?"

"Anything I may need to get the hell out of there. And that man quit being my father the moment he traded me to a stranger. Since you deal with people like me on a regular basis, you have some idea of what I'm up against I take it," she pointed out, "Your reaction to my story told me that much. Its bad, you pretty much froze up on the spot"

He started the car, "I have an inkling." He admitted in a growl sounding voice, like she had insulted him, "And offense doll, but I'm afraid a half human isn't going to cut it."

"H—half human? What are you talking about?"

"Your father told me about your human mother."

Her mouth fell open. Her mother hadn't been...? Eyes going wide, she suddenly found a reason why her father had been cruel to her all this time. She wasn't like him, at least, not fully.

Michael, always so observant, gauged her reaction, "You didn't know?"

She could only shake her head, taking slow deep breaths. He continued on while she caught her breath, "You're not going against just your father this time. It was a miracle you escaped the first time around. A mistake I'm sure he won't be keen on repeating. When I was contacted and met with the grey headed man, he had some of Zael's men around."

Strapping herself in, the man beside her began to head down the road making his way to her final destination. The initial shock starting to ebb away, the fact of her being stuck between two worlds, being replaced with a question, "These men, are they like him?"

Her voice sounded wounded, and she hated herself for it. She prepared herself for the worse, feeling a rush of relief over her when he responded, " No, Zael's men are not ice mages" he said, continuing on after just a few moments, "they're vampires."