The worst part is: you want to submit. You truly, truly crave it. You've always been deeply masochistic and submissive, and he's a tremendously skilled sadistic dominant. There's a large part of you that recognizes him as your master, your natural superior, and wants nothing more than to throw itself at his feet.

But you can't. You're a hunter. He's a vampire. It's your bounden duty to keep striving against him as long as you have a breath in your body. To fight; and then, when you can fight no more, to escape and warn others of his presence. Not to give yourself over to him as a servant.

"He's evil," you tell yourself yet again. You shake your head, hopelessly trying to dispel the dizziness. "Evil." Did you speak out loud? You just don't know anymore. You stumble, slamming into the wall, the lash marks on your body leaving dark smudges on the oh-so-expensive Regency-style damask paper; but you stagger on down the landing. You're not sure where the front door is, or what floor you're on, or even how you got out of your room; all you know is that you have to keep moving.

Your bare feet ache. He's beaten them too – the second night, in fact, when you made it was far as the road. He dragged you back from the kerb just as a car came into view. That was the night he took your clothes, leaving you only your serviceable underwear: shorts and an exercise bra. "You'll recover," he told you. "I've no use for a crippled servant, after all." Right now, though, the lush carpet might as well be cobbles strewn with glass.

There's an eager titter from the shadows nearby, but it fades into a gasp. "No, Teddie, we can't play with her," you hear a soft voice comment. "She's Reiji's toy… and I think he'll be very cross if we touch her."

Up ahead you see the lambent glow of a hunting vampire's eyes – green eyes – Ayato? No… worse… God, not Laito..! You brace yourself against the wall, hoping to manage a solid kick when he gets close enough, but instead of falling upon you the pervert reels back, hat falling askew and a look of shock on his face. "Whoa…" he exclaims. "What has that man been doing with you?"

You swing past him towards – yes! The spiral staircase, the one leading down to the common living-room. From there, it's easy to find the main doors. You're so focused on flight that you miss the dark form slouched at the top of the stairs, one leg stuck out across your path.

By the time you register the obstacle, it's too late. You're falling head over heels, landing face down and striking your head on the bannisters. You hear a faint snicker from the figure at the stair-head, and the fainter rush of air that indicates his swift departure.

You try to rise, but it's hopeless. Between your condition and the shock of the fall, you can barely raise your head. You watch helplessly as the magenta glow of your captor's eyes appears out of the dark.

"Well, well. It seems the lout can be useful after all, if only as an obstacle," snarls Reiji, leaning to pick you up. He lifts you effortlessly, as if you were made of air instead of muscle and bone. His arms feel like steel shackles around your body, daring you to even think of struggling. You curse him, but go limp against his chest. That traitorous submissive part of you is in bliss.

Moments later, Laito is following Reiji into the latter's room. He sees his half-brother dump you face down on the bed, pinning you down with a knee in your back as he takes up his riding-crop yet again.

"Hey, Reiji… don't you think..?" he begins. His voice dwindles to nothing at the look Reiji turns on him.

"What?" the dark-haired vampire spits. Laito takes in the cold sweat, the burning glare, the white knuckles of the ungloved hands. He raises his own hands in mock surrender. He knows better than to pester Reiji when the latter is in this kind of mood. It is rare for older vampire to get this angry; when he does, he's dangerous. Laito backs out of the door. "Oh, nothing," he says innocently.

"I thought not," comments Reiji. The door slams itself in Laito's face. Shaking his head, he leaves you to your fate.

Back in the room, the vampire is doling out another dozen strokes with the crop. Reiji normally takes his time, allowing the pain to peak between each blow, but tonight he's furious; the strokes fall inhumanly fast, a rain of agony along your thighs and calves, driving the last remnants of your consciousness down into the dark for a moment. Done with the beating he flips your limp body over, slipping an arm under your shoulders. Tugging your hair with his free hand, he forces you to face him. Your eyes are partly open, showing only a sliver of the whites. "Wake up," he snarls. "Wake. Up. Look at me."

Your eyelids flutter; his face is swimming in and out of focus. "You know what comes next," he says, moving in for the bite. He sinks his teeth deeply into the soft skin of your neck, moving them, letting you feel them, but barely drinks. Not yet.

"If you ever want me to leave enough blood in your body for you to stand up… if you ever want to walk again, much less run… you will submit to me…" he hisses into your neck. "…Servant."

You're about to offer another denial, but his teeth are in your throat again and this time he's drinking for real. Your vision is fading. Almost without volition, your lips shape a single, silent word:

Master.