Abigail froze, her body rigid in determination, yet indescribable fear. Lucifer was the last person she would ever want to encounter, but she found herself standing there, straightening her spine to look the man in his eyes; watery, dead, emotionless blue eyes.
"I need to speak with you." Abbi whispered, her mouth opening and closing, unsure whether it was terror or fury overriding her ability to think correctly.
Lucifer leaned into an easy grin. "It would seem we have the same intentions then. Shall I escort you to a more quiet place so we can chat?"
She had the fierce urge to decline this offer, but instead Abbi said, "Of course. Lead the way."
He hadn't yet spoken anything else before the man grasped her arm with a rough turn and started to pull her deeper into the midst of the mansion. The light from the room quickly disappeared behind them, and a murky darkness filled enveloped the room. The only sense Abbi had left was her hearing, and that was proving to be a rather useless thing - vampires walked without a sound, and the only sound was her own seemingly loud footsteps.
A rusty hinge shrieked as a door was yanked open. Lucifer quickly shoved her inside, and she assumed he followed behind.
The pitch-black settled around them, the light still refused to reveal itself. Just when Abbi had thought that Lucifer only meant to lock her in this cellar-like room, a sweep of fabric rustled at a far away point - then the room was lit by the pallid moon.
As Abbi's eyes lifted up to greet the being in front her, Lucifer's face was whiter than usual with the moonlight gleaming down on him.
"Perhaps, Abigail, I should allow you to explain why my grandson has given you up as a Subjugate?"
******
Nate could hear his grandfather's voice from the large, echoing, ballroom.
There were only two words that concerned him thus far; Abigail and Speak. At first, Nate though he was mistaken, and maybe Lucifer had just become loony after the many centuries of his existance, but there was no mistaking his light, musical voice. A voice he had grown so accustomed to, it was like his own.
But the chances were impossible. Certainly, there was no way of describing how she could have gotten here. First, Jeffery had strict orders to never let the Subjugate leave without permission from their master - and in this case, Abigail didn't have his permission. Secondly, what were the chances of Abbi wanting to even step foot inside of this hostile estate?
He would have believed his self-motivated reasoning, if it weren't for the curiosity of returning to his grandfather's "Poker Hall". The voice was most likely a lost Subjugate, and his own stricken mind had conjured up the sound of the voice of the girl who had brought him here, tonight.
Nate was simply going back to see who his grandfather was talking to; it wouldn't be a problem, would it? And if he was indeed speaking to Abigail, then Nate would just be sure to remove her from the situation. Like any other deranged and overprotective vampire.
So Nathaniel was now slowly making his way back toward the hallway in question.
Just outside of the loud poker room was a delectable scent. It hit Nate like a wrecking-ball. Frustration replaced his inquisitiveness.
How had he missed her?
And by how short a distance Nate had just walked, how had he missed her by that much?
It was at this time when his grandfather's scent struck Nathaniel's unprepared mind. The mild anger rushing his movements was halted as a splash of realization finally woke Nate from this paradox.
Abigail was in trouble. Lucifer would have her helpless, strung in chains against a chair as he repeatedly beat her for interrupting his party. Nathaniel could hear her screams in the forethought part of his mind, making the sudden stab of emptiness crash against the more moral side of his conscience.
He was supposed to feel indifferent about her; but the imprudent way of his mind was at war with his rational aspect of life, and Nate was torn by whether he should side with the Devil - perched on one shoulder - or the Angel, delicately sitting on top the other.
Yes, Abigail was in a dangerous place right now (danger being Lucifer's presence) and yes, he was prepared to rush into any of her maidenly tower-top issues, but Nate was prone to thinking rashly, and for whatever reason that had brought her here - she had come for a reason. Maybe he would wait for her, to be ready for the arrival of his Subjugate. And then something else had taken over his head (once again) and a disposition clouded the hope he had come across.
How would Abbi come to him if she were to be wearing a hutch of metal? How was he supposed to wait for her if he had known such knowledge of her being locked up?
An impatient whisper started to spin around his brain, his tragic fear encouraging this impatience.
The choices leading up to Nate's moment of triumph revealed itself again, and as always, he chose Abigail's safety. And that meant he had to find her, and his grandfather.
The only thing he really had to go on was their scents - which, by the amount of time it took for Nathaniel to decide he was going after her, was starting to waver and fade - meaning that he had to move even faster.
Nate, honing in on the specific spot of his beloved, moved toward her smell. As he ran, seconds ticked by like an hourglass draining a dribble of sand; he was fast, but the panic spreading through him was quicker. Tempted to start screaming her name, Nathaniel blurred by several different doors, his ears blanching this way and that to decipher the inactivity of sound; and then - there was a noise.
It was Lucifer, his stark monotone a sharp bubble on Nate's radar.
And then there was light - Abigail had begun to speak.
It was the only thing that had made his hand hesitate at the doorknob, and the only thing to force the rain over his heart away, and make the world - his existence - clear.
Nathaniel wanted to slap himself for these nonsensical thoughts, but was sidetracked by what she said.
"He doesn't want me, anymore. Nate said that the only faint attraction between us was blood lust. I didn't know what else to do." She sounded honestly pained, though, Nate had no explanation for why.
"And so you thought coming to me would be the correct thing?" Lucifer retaliated, voice now more like a whip then the blank and undramatic drone.
"Well, yes." Abigail said, her own tone hardening at the edges. "I had no other option. How am I supposed to make him love me if he believes as he does?"
Nate froze, the internal silence underneath his shock was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"You make him believe differently." Lucifer hissed. "You force Nathaniel into your love, or I will force you mother onto her knees and split her skull open." There was a silence that followed, one that had Nate choking on the explanation for what this confrontation meant.
He needed Abigail to say something. But what would she even say? Anything that came out of her mouth in this situation, would be a dagger of bloody poison shacking away at the solid ground of Nathaniel's world.
He didn't want her to explain anything, because for someone who had lived for one-hundred years, Nate admitted that he had been incredibly stupid. But at least before, he could live in the fantasy of Abigail really loving him. Now, contrary to his once constant day-dream, Nathaniel was putting together the puzzle pieces; and while he continued to build upon the one, big masterpiece of a plan, Nate also knew he had failed. Failed at the most honest and easy thing to not fail at.
Nathaniel failed to love Abigail. He had thoroughly convinced his feelings to be true, that he loved her, and someday, would get her affection in return. But now, facing the big picture that his puzzle had made, Nate couldn't have been further from the truth.
Standing just on the other side of the door,she had strung him along in her web of golden eyes and blatant white lies. Oh - and how foolish he was.
Even though Nathaniel constantly attempted to be the dominant one, he was clearly compliant in every way possible when it came to Abigail. A submissive retreat to earn her love and trust, while she stood above - holding all the strings.
But Abigail was not the real puppeteer.
No, because even though she had done what it took to seduce him, there was something still over her.
Nathaniel could remember her screaming for her mother at Lucifer's party; the lively threat Lucifer himself had made, the one thing that she would stop at nothing for - her mother.
And Abigail's mother was officially Lucifer's Subjugate; making everything of importance to sit right in his slimy fingers; for him to control until his pawns had cornered the king.
How had Nathaniel let this happen? How could he be so oblivious to the obvious?
There was only one thing he could do, and this time, Nate promised himself and the continuous love of his existence that he would protect her, and anything that mattered to her.
Nathaniel would have to be a part of the game (if he wasn't already). He would be whatever Abigail needed, and in this case, she needed him; to love her, to want her.
Well, at least he knew there would be no difficulty in his part.
******
Abbi was frozen as Nathaniel strode into his bedroom like a blond angel.
She hadn't seen him since that very somber moment earlier in the hallway, and Abbi was positive he didn't see her, but something was still off with the boy. He looked almost anxious, rushed, and now - he was staring at her, with an open amount of pity and need, or at least, that's what Abbi saw.
She met his eyes with an avid amount of loathing, making sure to shove the fact that he had rejected her, into his face. Nate didn't seem to care, though, because he was no longer looking at her face, but the book in her hands.
"Why are you reading that?" He asked.
She shut the cover slowly, glanced briefly towards him, then back down at the book. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of her personal favorites. It was exactly three in the morning, and although she was incredibly tired, something had her stuck in awake mode; reading usually helped calm her into oblivion.
"Why do you care?" She retorted in a low voice, before opening it again and started reading at a random page (honestly, shutting the book probably wasn't the best idea).
Then he was standing over her - Abbi could tell by the sudden stir of wind - and the book was carefully plucked from her hands by slender fingers.
Her head shot up to give him a glare, but Nathaniel wasn't paying attention and was half way across the room now, his head engrossed in the novel. She watched him, her anger quickly fading, whilst admiring the way his hair fell towards his eyes, which were vivid with color.
He turned to give her a curious look. "Pride and Prejudice?" The honest face he was making melted away and he crinkled his nose.
Abbi shrugged, still not allowing her eyes to stray away from the perfection of his face.
Nathaniel closed the book quietly then nestled it into the crook of his arm, obviously not going to give it back. She sighed and stood up. "What do you want?"
Nathaniel regarded her with humorous eyes. He didn't answer and instead stepped closer to her. For a moment, she thought she saw him look to her neck, and had the urge to tuck her chin down. The last thing she wanted was his not-so-much-love-bites.
Nate moved rather fast and in only a few seconds, had moved across the large bedroom to stand in front of her. The breath caught in Abbi's throat.
"To get to my desk." He breathed, allowing the pleasant smell of him to waft towards her nose. Abbi looked down, noticing she sat in the chair belonging to his small table - there were no other seats in his room, and she didn't exactly want to be on the bed (too many memories).
"Of course, let me just move." Abbi said with a bit of acid, trying to move away from him.
Nate stayed with her, though, like the pest he was, and smirked at her sudden temperament. In return, Abbi glared at him.
"I don't think I want you to."
She was startled by his forwardness, and just hours before, he had greedily proclaimed there was nothing between them. Looking him in his glossy blue eyes, Abbi glowered, her own amber gaze heating to flame. "I suggest you rethink that notion, then let me move." She said forcefully. pushing on his rocky chest with her hands.
"It may take me some time to think." Nate said, his tone heavy and unreadable.
And because Abbi was so tired, she could think of no retort or have any lasting anger towards Nathaniel. Her shoulders sagged and Abbi sighed again. "Fine then." She muttered as a finality.
But what surprised her the most was when his arms were finally around her waist, and he pulled her to him, allowing the warmth to spread across her skin.
Abbi shut her eyes, relishing in the feel of his hands against her as he swept Abbi into a tight embrace. At this second, encircled in his arms, she knew there were only two things that she wanted more than anything else; Sleep and for Nathaniel Drake to hold her while she did.