Fic info.
Confidante
Chapter Six
They ended up talking for seven hours.

Katheryn could hardly believe it when she saw the pre-dawn light illuminating the man in front of her. And she hadn't once been bored. Which was fortunate, since his favorite subject was himself. But—him being a Vampire and all—he'd led an interesting life. She'd enjoyed hearing about it, once she'd gotten used to the violence that he seemed intent on describing in every minute detail.

So when he suddenly grabbed her, changing into his Demon face, and saying, "Time's up," she was understandably startled.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, her hands against his chest, his teeth near her throat. They were standing— he'd lifted her from her chair—and she could feel every inch of him as his arms crushed her to him. "Angelus, hear me out."

He raised his head to look down at her with narrowed yellow eyes. "If you're trying to put me off until the sun fries me, it's not going to work."

She grimaced. "No. I want to know something. If I were able to get away from you, could I get a promise that you wouldn't try to kill me or my family?"

He grinned, baring his fangs. "If you could—and I'm not saying you could—I'd slaughter everyone you hold dear and then kill you while I fuck you."

She glared at him. "You're telling me you didn't like talking to me? Then what the hell've you been doing with me since eleven? Why didn't you kill me before? You enjoyed it, Angelus. You liked it. Besides, if you kill me, you won't have me around anymore." She worked her hand between them and cupped him, leaning in to lick at his jugular. "Just imagine how much you'd miss me."

Angelus groaned. He grabbed her head and kissed her brutally, cutting her lips and sucking her hot tongue into his cold mouth. She continued her ministrations on his groin and rubbed her breasts against him. Finally, they broke away and Angelus stared down at her as if he didn't recognize her.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, shifting his face back to human. "Ten-thirty. The Bronze."

And then he was gone. Just like that. Katheryn blinked and staggered a little with the loss of his body for support. She stood there staring at the chair he'd been in for most of the night until the sun finally broke over the horizon, spilling golden light over the porch.

She looked down at herself and grimaced at the blood staining her blouse and skirt. Hopefully, her parents were still in bed.

Opening the front door silently, she slipped inside. The front room was huge with a domed ceiling and curving stairway. From the second floor, you could see the first from a veranda that ran the length of the room. The entire thing, including the stairs, was made of white marble. Off to the right of the front door was the sitting room where her mother entertained and off to the left was her father's study.

She crept to that door now and looked in. Her father was passed out in his armchair, an empty shotglass on the floor beneath his dangling hand and an empty bottle of whiskey next to it.

Katheryne made a face that was a perfect blend of amusement, pity, and disgust. Her mother must have slept with someone again. If it had been her father who'd cheated, he'd be in the gameroom, passed out.

That was the only argument her parents ever had. Katheryn had named it "You Cheating Bastard/Bitch" depending on who was at fault. And no matter the outcome, her father was always the one to spend the night outside the bedroom. In the study if it was her mother's fault, in the gameroom if it was his.

Quickly, she turned and made her way up the stairs. He'd wake up soon and want to take the fight to her mother again. Katheryn would really like to be in her room before they started screaming. Especially in the condition she was in.

And she was lucky she'd hurried because just as she reached the huge double doors to her room, she heard her father's swear as he woke up to a hangover. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it with a sigh.

She'd spent the night with a Vampire and she was still alive. But she wasn't fooled into thinking she was safe. He hadn't let her go, he'd given her a reprieve. If she could get away from him tomorrow he wouldn't kill her.

...Not that a Demon's word counts for much, she thought wryly. She glanced at the clock. It was about six forty-five. Nothing like going to school with no sleep.

Turning on the shower in her bathroom, she stripped out of her clothes. Her blouse was ruined—blood and silk were not a good combination. Her skirt might be salvagable, but she doubted it.

Standing in front of her full-length mirror naked, she examined the bite mark on her side. Wetting a washcloth, she gently cleaned the blood away, wincing at the stinging. Already, it was bruising. It would be ugly, but the cuts themselves weren't all that bad. They weren't that deep, either. He hadn't been going for a fatal blow.

Katheryn stepped into the shower and began to wash, her mind feverishly working on how to escape him later that night.