Bella's P.O.V

Abducted. Abduction. Abductee. No matter how many times Bella ran the word through her head, the thought like a swirling spoon in a dark cup of thick coffee, she just couldn't quite grasp its slippery application. Now that the adrenaline had pottered to a soft drip, drip, drip of anxiousness after a rough nights sleep of tossing and turning, all she found herself capable of was thought. She had been abducted. Taken. Forcibly shifted from her home and carried away to New York city of all places, maybe even further if she had not ran for it like she had. The real kicker to the equation was the abduction wasn't the worst or most outlandish aspect of what had taken place. No. Aldrick… Well, that man wasn't human. He was a vampire, he had to have been. He had drank Jessica dry, ripped through her car as if it was made from cardboard, ran faster then she could blink, and he slept in a box during the day... That meant cold ones weren't the only ones running around with a penchant for putting fangs into necks.

The realization made her dizzy and yet, the thought of multiple species of vampires roaming the earth was not the top of her 'I'm in shit' list. One; this new breed, or at least Aldrick, wanted something from her. He would have surely sucked her insides up and out like a slurpy, like Jessica, if he only wanted a quick snack. He wouldn't have bothered to abduct her and fly her all the way here, planning on taking her further, if all she was was a happy meal. Two; With Aldrick in this city, perhaps even still looking for her, she doubted he would give up after carting her across country, she couldn't return home. He would track her, find her, that would put Charlie in danger and she couldn't risk that alternative, not until she was sure Aldrick or anyone else was not on her tail. Finally, Three; now that the sheer will of survival wasn't fogging her mind, she could focus on the minute details from her encounters that she hadn't had the time to focus on previously, such as that damned tattoo Greensworth had scarred upon his skin.

It had looked eerily similar to her birthmark. Not identical, of course, but with enough similarities to raise the hair on the back of her neck and for her to be classed as suicidal if she ignored the fact. Idly, still laying on the couch Scud had let her sleep on, she lifted the borrowed Nirvana shirt he had lent her, and traced her birthmark that spread out like a silvery spider's web on her left lower ribcage. Greensworth had been mainly dots with one sharp, potent line. Hers was more intricate, but still compacted into an invisible box. A quarter circle made one corner, a curving L made the other, a dot balancing on the tip, with what looked like another line encased within its sanctuary. Across from that was two lines that looked oddly like an equals sign, squaring off the whole mark. Renee had always joked that Indiana Jones had sneaked into the delivery room to place an ancient rune upon her in some clandestine and convoluted adventure. Well, Bella could feel the destiny of it all too heavily right now alright, but she definitely wouldn't use the word 'adventure'. The sound of the old, stained basement door creaking open jolted Bella into action. Shoving her shirt back down roughly, she sprang up into vertical awareness, her other hand going straight for the crowbar she had admittingly slept with clutched tightly between white knuckled fingers.

"Ease up buttercup, it's just me. Plain ol' Scuddy-wuddy."

Bella let out the breath she had been subconsciously holding in with a giant puff as her fingers drifted from the cold metal of her only weapon. Slouching back into the threadbare cushions, she eyed the bright eyed, scruffy man who came lurching in through the door, kicking it closed behind him, a clothes shopping bag in one hand and a large box of what she guessed were dough-nuts safely tucked into the crease of his elbow.

"Sorry, I just… Thought you were still sleeping. Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like a person who gets up much before three o'clock."

His boots thudded heavily on the bare concrete flooring as he wandered over to the stack of crates he used for a table, chuckling as he dropped the fried goodies upon its face, holding out the gaudy pink bag of clothing towards her. Bella squinted at it with caution, one eyebrow cocking up high.

"Hey! I work. I pay rent for this shitty place. Not much… Mind you. Now chop chop and get dressed, we're busy today."

Bella didn't dare take the bag.

"We?"

Scud shrugged, reaching up to ruffle at his hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp. Oddly enough, he wouldn't meet her eyes and a hot, cindering coal lodged itself home in the very pit of her stomach. Something… Wasn't quite right.

"Yeah. I mean, I have a work errand to run, just a little delivery and I doubt you want to be locked in all day. Come on, It'll be fun. I drop my little delivery off at the party and we can have a few drinks down at this little bar I know. Look… You look like someone who needs some lovin' from Jack and Daniels, I'm just trying to be a good host. Plus, I already bought you a killer outfit from the thrift store, shame to see the red leather go to waste."

Bella couldn't help it, really, not when her eyes scanned him, paying close attention to his wrists, where she had seen Greensworth's tattoo. When she only saw unblemished skin, she tried to swallow gruffly. A little voice in the back of her head was telling her to be cautious, to back out now but she had no where else to go. Plus, if this Scud really was in league with Aldrick and his kind, then maybe she could hassle information out of him. Something. Anything. Even the littlest bit of knowledge could help her get the fuck out of this situation she found herself in. Worst case scenario, he was leading her to Aldrick, and with any sign of the imposing man on the horizon, be it a blonde hair, private jet or blacked out sedan, she would run like the wind. Best case, he really was just trying to be nice to her, she had a strong feeling the guy was lonely, ever so, and he could be simply trying to find companionship. If that was the case, having never been to New York before, she could use all the help she could learning the lay out of the city. Concurrently, if she fervently denied his offer and he was working with Aldrick, she could tip him off, and in so, tip of Aldrick and that could lead to a full out fight that Bella wasn't too sure she would win. No, best to play along until the very end.

Bella gave her own non-committal shrug, reached out and took the bag, trying to stomp away the paranoia and adrenaline that began to pump through her veins.

"What's the harm, right?"

Scud's P.O.V

Allure, noun, the quality of being powerfully and mysteriously attractive or fascinating. If Josh, or Scud as he liked to be called, could only attribute one word to the whirlwind that had entered his life through a smashed window, alluring would be his pick. Bella was all contradictions and riddles wrapped in pretty flesh. She looked fragile, delicate, like spun glass, yet he could tell there was a will of steal and hell fire beneath, lurking, ready to leap forward and make itself known at a moment's notice. The blood on her dress when she had first slipped into his front room attested to that. She spoke politely, jovially, playfully with husky tones of a jazz singer and yet, always between her words was a sense of hardened sarcasm, wry derision and irony, as if she would always know something you didn't, and she found everything and anything you could or would say hilarious.

Even the way she held herself, walked, didn't fit together well. She stumbled in places, held her limbs loose and swinging, almost gangly in a way, like a stretched, stuffing-less teddy bear, and yet there were certain moments, like when he had walked into the room after his morning shopping trip, that showed something else entirely. Too quick, sharp, precise movements, clumsiness seemingly forgotten, as if it was all an act, or at least a subconscious act, and she was only putting it on to make you feel comfortable around her, and only doing so long enough to lull you in before she pounced. All that wasn't even considering her eyes. Sometimes, once or twice, Scud could have sworn he saw… Something, a shadow, demonic and clever and ravenous skit across her eyes. But then it would be gone, an illusion to both those who saw it and perhaps Bella herself, he doubted she knew it happened.

It was like there was a whole other person, all brimstone, sardonic irony and predator just crawling beneath her skin, sleeping, patiently waiting for that special day to come for it to awaken. She… She reminded him of a vampire trapped in a useless human body. If he had not have checked her pulse the night before while she had slumbered to make sure, he was sure he would have truly believed she was a vampire playing a game with him, or at least a treasured familiar if he had saw any sort of glyph when he scanned her when they first met. The click and clank of the shower turning on brought his gaze to the shut bathroom door momentarily.

They had spent most of the day whittling away hours until sun set watching cartoons on his shitty television screen, making idle chit chat here and there, puffing away on some of the good kush. It was likely her fist time smoking it, or smoking in general by the way she had originally eyed the blunt and the amount of coughing and hacking she had done on her first few tries she had taken. But, like he had thought, she had been a fast learner and she seemed less rigid then she previously had been. To be completely honest, he had not meant to invite her along to the drop off he had been scheduled to do this night, he knew the danger he was putting her and himself in by doing so, but he… Well, he could not either. It was a paradox. For some unexplainable reason, he felt the need to keep her around, keep her close, keep her… There. Being someone who didn't often go against his gut, his gut having saved his life countless times before while being a familiar himself, he was hesitant to dismiss it this time, especially seen as it was practically screaming at him to take her along. And so he had gotten her some clothes, nice ones, ones that would make the vampires at the party think she was a precious pet to another vampire so they wouldn't try and take a bite, or think twice about doing so. The look only needed to last a max of fifteen minutes before they left.

He would take the box and letter Dragonetti had given him, insides as much as a mystery as Bella, hand it over to either Frost or one of his minions, leave Bella in a large crowd that was likely to be at Frost's penthouse party, find her and leave and get that Jack Daniels drink he had promised to deliver. Simple. The door to the bathroom unlocked and it was only as it swung open to reveal Bella that Scud realized he had been lost in his own thoughts so much he had missed the sound of the shower turning off and the hair dryer going. She stood in the entry way, sweeping her arms out dramatically, little worried frown puckering between her brows.

"So… How do I look?"

Scud swallowed the lump in his throat. Oh, yeah, the clothes would work… Perhaps too well. Shit. She cleaned up well, especially when there was no blood, dust and dirt crusting along her skin and adorned in a baggy, tatty dress. Her hair fell into wild curls, thick and untamed, almost comically so if it didn't just scream sex hair and bring other thoughts other than laughter to your mind. She seemed taller now, still small but no longer barely topping five foot with the black suede high heeled boots on her feet. The red leather trousers, dark red, like mulled wine, made her legs longer, or perhaps only showed off how long they really were. The printed T-shirt, arms roughly cut off leaving a frayed edge, was slinky and just tight enough to give hint to the curves and slopes hiding away underneath, almost like it was daring you to play peek-a-boo. The black cross printed on the shirt in bold harsh lines was just a gimmick, especially where they were going. She looked ready to kick ass and then go get crazy laid, only to repeat the cycle until daylight broke. Yeah, perhaps the outfit was not the best choice, he hadn't known she would brush up so well, but there was no time to change, the party would start soon and the quicker this was over with, the quicker they could get drunk.

"You'll do. Come on, the party starts soon."

After all, what's the harm?

Quinn's P.O.V

The trail of smoke from his lit cigarette momentarily blurred his vision before dissipating into the heavy air around him. The bass and thrum of the thumping music was almost loud enough to shake the furniture. Quinn was laid across a couch, uncomfortable making the other habitant of the couch squeeze themselves into the far corner to keep away from touching him. He, Deacon and Mercury were currently sitting in a corner room, just off to the main room where the party was taking place, just far enough to have some privacy but evidently not far enough away not to hear the music playing. Quinn almost wanted to laugh at the way the weasel faced mans features scrunched and squeezed themselves into odd shapes from the environment the man had found himself in.

Deacon Frost, who sat in an armchair, relaxed and visibly at ease, made the leather seat look like a throne as he too puffed at a cigarette. The party around them was in full swing and Quinn couldn't wait much longer to hear this meat bag's pleas and thank you's so he could get back to partying. After a moment of silence, Deacon laughed, lent his elbows on his knees, invading the mans personal space while a vicious grin split his face in two. Quinn almost felt giddy at the sight, felt a shiver go down his spine. He had seen that grin before, countless times, blood was about to be spilled and the real party was about to begin. Deacon's voice was low and playful. The idiotic human took it as only that. A mistake he wouldn't live to regret.

"So, what you're telling me is you have important news… Only you won't tell me until you have my… Oath that I'll bite you? Is that right mister Gremwall? Does your master know you're here, or did the little sheep leave his pen?"

The man coughed indignantly, tugged on his tweed jacket lapels and sat up straighter, if that was even possible. The guy looked like he had a rod permanently rammed up his ass.

"Greensworth… My name's Greensworth. And… Well… I-I… You see, my master, he's found something. Something precious in the right hands, dangerous in others. He isn't planning on sharing the information, not with any vampire from the new world. If he finds it, he'll take it. I only need the insurance to be turned and I will happily give over all the information I have. After all, she-… It was found in your territory, in my eyes it has nothing to do with my master. Do I have your solemn promise?"

Quinn winced and bit back the bubbling laughter almost choking him… If he could choke anymore. If there was anything Deacon and he and all of their house hated more than uppity, prideful humans who thought they were above the slaughter house, it was un-loyal familiars that were willing to sell out their own masters because they wanted to turn. The man, this Greensworth, was as transparent as a white T-shirt at a pool party. Even Mercury looked ready to feast on the skeletal man… Well, she always looked ready to feast, but that was besides the point.

"Oh, you can take my word that I'll bite you."

The idiot didn't understand Deacon's real meaning and grinned widely, almost looking like he wanted to jump around in his seat and began spilling his guts. Quinn did laugh this time. Soon, it would be his real guts flopping onto the floor.

"Aldrick… My master, he was visiting me, planning to turn me of course, when some little bitch caught his eye. He decided to take the tram-"

Before he could carry on, Deacon was out of his seat and had a hand around Greensworth's throat, face uncomfortably close to his, pinning his head back into the back rest of the couch. Quinn jumped up, excitedly getting ready to leap in too, Mercury circling behind the man, all waiting for Deacon's silent order to action.

"I really wouldn't waste my time…"

The man choked, scrabbled, but never dared to touch Deacon. Ah, the man had been a familiar long enough to know the rules then. When it sounded like he was trying to say something, Deacon let him go with a little shove. It took a moment for the man to stop coughing enough to be able to answer.

"Anima Gemella! He, my master, he found an Anima Gemella! He was going to take her back to the old world council, see if she belonged to any of them, if not, well… You know what happens to one of her kind if the house she belongs to doesn't find them first…"

Quinn froze, Mercury froze, and you knew it was a serious situation when Deacon of all people froze too. Anima Gemella, or soul mates to the humans, or mates in vampiric layman's terms, were rare, beyond rare. The few houses that had been blessed with one through their long, long history had never fallen. None. And the lucky bastard who would mate one? Well, the last one to have one was Dracula himself, and the legends of those who held one before hand were just as fantastical as his legacy. None of them were dead, some 'sleeping', sure, but none had ever died. They couldn't be killed. Sun? No. Stakes? Nope. Silver? Fuck right off.

Of course, this sort of power being bestowed upon a house lead to other houses trying to track the Anima down before they inevitably reached their destined house and mate to off them brutally, leading to the vampire's death and subsequently the quickened fall of their house. Vampire politics at its quintessential height, that was what this was. Do or death. Feast or die. Kill or be killed. Either way, they would have to find this mate, especially know they knew there was one and in their territory too, likely to kill her off before she could find her house. This was, after all, the first time the New world vampires had been gifted a Anima, she wouldn't have been born or raised here otherwise. Idly, Quinn wondered if, maybe, she belonged in their house, Frost's house, but quickly dashed that thought away. The only ones to have a mate previously were purebloods, so that wiped out Frost's house almost completely out.

And with Deacon's plans? His plans too, seen as he was and would always be behind Deacon a hundred percent? Well, the last thing they needed would be for House Erebus or Dragonetti himself to have that sort of power gifted upon him by the blood god himself. Deacon seemed to be one step ahead of Quinn, he always was with everyone, and came to the same conclusion. Hoisting Greensworth up by his shirt, Deacon predatorily flashed his fangs in warning and growled.

"Where the fuck is she?"

Greensworth went white, pallid, continuously swallowing as he fought to bring the words out between crooked teeth.

"I… She was at the airport! We were taking her to Prague, to the old council, when she… She escaped and we haven't found her yet! She's tricky! B-b-but she's still in New York, we know that! She hasn't left and all roads are being guar-"

Deacon lunged, tearing through his throat ravenously, blood and chunks of skin flailing everywhere, almost black under the silver lighting Deacon liked to have installed in his houses and nightclubs. Before he got his fill, as unappetizing as the man looked, Deacon chucked his quaking body to a ready and salivating Mercury who finished where Deacon left off. By the end, there wouldn't be much left to clean up.

"Quinn! Fucking find her and snap her neck! No, bring her back here and I'll fucking skin her. There's no way in hell I'm having a pureblood in the new world with a Anima. Not when we're this close to ending the righteous bastards!"

It was eerily quiet… Too quiet… The music had stopped. They had been too swept up with Greensworth to notice. The chatter, laughter… Silent before noise erupted again. A few human pet screams, growling, the sound of furniture breaking, a feminine, gruff war cry, a male yell.

Deacon rumbled a growl that even sent jitters through Quinn, storming towards the door, Quinn right behind him. When they entered, the scene that greeted them was the last thing either expected. Fights breaking out was common place, especially when you place vampires together along with a food source in a confined area, but that was part of the enjoyment of these parties. Normally one vampire would try and take a bite out of another's human, the vamps ego would be bruised and a little squabble would break out, normally ending in the human getting eaten by the victor in the throws of adrenaline.

You normally didn't walk in on a vampire getting staked by a broken piece of chair, the burnt scorches on the floor between the pair telling of how this was the third that had been staked. To be honest, it took a while for the image to compute in Quinn's mind, chiefly trying to link the act he was witnessing to the assailant.

She was a short thing, being held by the throat, about to be bitten into before she had plunged the broken chair leg into the vampire's chest, using her long, leather clad leg to kick the vampire away before he dusted right in her face. To be fair, for being in the heels she was in, she landed quite gracefully. She was a pretty thing, even covered in vampire remains with her shirt nearly torn to pieces from the fight she had put up, hair wild and fluttering around her from the open balcony pool. The nights breeze brought her scent fluttering along to his widening nostrils and if he still had a heartbeat, he was sure it would have spluttered to a stop. Fucking hell, she smelt good. Too good. Seasonal, all winter snow drift, ice and hidden warmth behind locked doors. Something mysterious yet familiar was lurking as a undertone. Spicy too. The spicy ones were always the best. They always fought the hardest and always filled the most. Could he really blame the three who had tried to take a bite? Hell nah.

Then she straightened out, a spare broken chair leg in her hand as if she was ready for another bout of fighting. Fortunately, her shredded top that was more cropped sports bra than shirt, rose too and Quinn's eyes drifted to the silvery scar printed on her lower rib cage that was on show from a giant hole, glistening in the moonlight and fluorescent lamps. Not a scar…

Birthmark.

Glyph.

Deacon's Glyph.

The Anima Gemella… Belonged to House Frost…

Strangely, the crowd was as silent as a graveyard, apt description though it may be, Quinn couldn't bring himself to break that silence, especially when the familiarity of the undertone of the woman's scent clicked into his mind. Deacon. The scent held a hint of Deacon's own artic seas, choppy waves, deep salt, frigid beach breeze and the distinct smell of a vast ocean.

No… Not only House Frost… But Frost… Deacon…

Then, as if they were in a movie that had been paused, someone pressed play and everything and everyone was in movement. The woman belted it across the room, dodging the vamps in the crowd, someone's familiar, a mousy man who looked like he dabbled in the weed a bit too much lurching for her, who she solidly decked squarely in the jaw as she dashed past, the humans present began to shout and cry out again and most importantly…

Deacon Frost gave chase, cutting through the crowd as they moved instinctually to make room for the bulldozing vampire, Quinn using that as his own pathway to follow behind.

When all is said and done… What's the harm in a little back up?

Next chapter: We find out exactly what went down in the party from Bella's P.O.V to see how she ended up in the predicament we see, we find out what the harm was in bring Bella to a party for vampires and exactly why having back up, when confronting a pissed off, tired of their bullshit Bella, could hurt! Also, we get a little sneak peak into Deacon's P.O.V

I know I haven't updated this fic in such a long time, but I haven't given up on it and I hope you guys haven't either and that this chapter makes up for the ridiculously long wait I've put you through. I really do enjoy writing this fic and I hope you enjoy reading it as much. Hopefully you won't have to wait for new chapters again (I can't promise because, well, life gets in the way sometimes XD) and updating should be back to normal!

As always please Review, as they get the fingers typing faster and the brain conjuring plot easier!

Thank you all to those who have reviewed, followed and favourited! You are the best!