Reaper's Word

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.