Unwelcome Visitor

Seattle, Washington, Present Day

"Good evening, Victoria," the man before her said with a sneer. His rough accented voice was tinged with contempt, sending shudders of unease down her spine.

Victoria O'Hare fought to hide her discomfort, scowling at the two men standing on her doorstep. It was late and she'd just been about to reach a new high score on Halo.

"We would like a word," the stranger stated, glaring down at her.

Fear jumped in her gut. Shouldn't have answered the door. What had she been thinking? She cursed herself. She was twenty-six years old, she knew better. Rule number one, never open the door to strangers in the middle of the damn night! Stupid, stupid!

Rain poured in torrents, the sound seeming far too loud in her ears. Thunder crashed, lightning streaking across the sky. For one brief moment the night was lit with brilliant blues and yellows, highlighting the two strangers in the eerie light.

The one in front was tall and muscular, droplets of water running down his black hair and strong jaw. She couldn't deny that he was possibly the most handsome man she'd ever seen, despite the clear glare of arrogance in his dark blue eyes.

His companion was equally attractive, but with a slim build and fair complexion. Lightning flashed again and she couldn't stop the startled gasp as his eyes gleamed in the night. Red. He had blood red eyes.

What the hell?

Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the door, ready to slam it shut. She didn't know who these weirdos were, and she had no intention of finding out. "I don't know you, please leave," she stated, moving to shut the door.

A large hand shot out, pressing firmly against the wood. She winced, unable to budge it.

Not good.

The dark stranger gave the door a rough shove, causing her to stumble back. The two men entered as if they owned the place, slamming the door shut behind them. Survival mode kicked in. Shit, what do I do? Make a run for it? Scream?

Before she could settle on a course of action the massive male spoke, "My name is Vincent Shaw. And we are here to discuss a matter with your father, Mathew O'Hare."

That caught her attention. Just what kind of trouble did Dad get into now? Her dad always seemed to find trouble. He suffered from severe depression, he drank a bit too much, and gambled money they didn't have. More than once she'd had to break into what little money she'd managed to save to bail him out of one situation or another. But whatever troubles her dad had gotten himself into over the years it had always been petty things. Not scary men showing up in the middle of night things!

"He's not here," she lied, straight faced.

"Victoria?" She bit back a groan, speak of the devil. Great timing, Dad.

Her father hovered on the staircase, wide eyes staring in shock at the three of them. He was a good looking man, but worn out. His depression left him gaunt, dark circles under his eyes. Many times she'd tried to imagine what he must have looked like before her mother had died and his whole life had fallen apart.

The simple truth was, Dad never got over her mother's death. Growing up she'd had no idea of how badly he'd suffered. In her eyes he was the happiest man alive, both a mother and father to her.

When she left for college he stopped hiding the pain, transforming from the jovial man she knew to one filled with misery. She quickly realized he'd suffered silently all those years, hiding his despair to provide her with a happy childhood. She loved him unconditionally for it, would do anything for him. And she did, dropping out of college to take care of him, sometimes working two jobs just to keep them afloat.

Dad eyed the two men and his face turned solemn. He walked slowly down the stairs, shoulders hunched. "So, you've come for me have you?"

The second stranger stepped forth, those strange red eyes glinting. "Not even going to put up a fight, Mathew?"

Victoria stared between them, her chest constricting. Everything about this situation was wrong. "What is he talking about?" she asked, casting her dad a confused look.

He swallowed nervously, "Do what you will, Jeramiah, but not in front of my daughter."

"You misunderstand," Jeramiah stated coldly. "We've come to offer you an alternative." Those red eyes snapped in her direction. "The halfling should fetch a sizable amount."

"No!" her father shouted, stepping in front of her protectively.

Victoria jumped, never had she heard her father raise his voice before. "Dad..."

"We had an arrangement, damn it!" her father shouted.

"An arrangement that you broke when you failed to pay your debts," Jeramiah snapped, those blood colored eyes narrowing. Victoria felt panic in her throat. This man looked as if he were a hunter about to kill its prey. "Shaw, however, has graciously offered to pay your debts, in exchange for the halfling."

"You....why?" her father stammered.

Vincent gave him an open look of disdain. "That is none of your concern."

Her father shook his head, his face reddening with anger. "You can't have her! I refuse!"

"I grow bored with this, Shaw," Jeramiah snarled. "I see no reason why I can't just kill him and take the female. I have no patience for pathetic humans."

That got her attention. Barely able to comprehend what was happening Victoria stuttered, "H-Humans?"

Jeramiah laughed, "She doesn't know."

"Don't-" her father pleaded.

Vincent stepped towards her. Victoria instinctively stepped back, nearly tripping over her own feet. "You are a halfling, Victoria. Your mother was an elf," he said, his voice laced with malice.

She gave a nervous laugh, taking another step back. "You people are crazy. There's no such thing."

Vincent raised his brows and grinned, revealing sharp white teeth. "Oh, really?"

Holy crap, holy crap! The world began to spin. She felt as if she might be sick. Her mind raced. Not human. Not human. These men are not human.

"Your mother was an elf," Vincent repeated. "And you are what our kind calls a halfling."

"No way. No way in h-hell..."

"This is the truth," Vincent stated. He stood over her as if he owned her. "Your father has borrowed a large sum of money to appease his gambling. I'm sure you are well aware of his addiction."

Stupidly she blurted, "How much? I ca-"

"More than an impoverished female such as yourself could ever repay," he interrupted her coldly.

Damn it! She tried to collect herself, to think through this. These men wanted money. She could take another job. If she worked nights Dad would be alone, which worried her, but they would just have to figure that out later. They'd been in tough jams before, she could get them through this.

In the back of her mind she was aware of Vincent watching her as if he were amused. The smug bastard. Anger stirred in her gut, snuffing out some of her fear. She would be damned if these strangers did anything to harm her father over money. Narrowing her eyes at him she asked sharply, "How much?"

Jeramiah gave a cruel laugh. "Really? I must say, I find this one amusing."

"As I said, more than you could ever hope to pay," Vincent stated.

She hiked her chin up defiantly, glaring at him. "How.Much?"

Vincent raised a brow at Jeramiah. The other man shook his head. With a smirk he slipped a small white card out of his pocket and handed it to her. She snatched it from him with shaking fingers, glancing down at it with a frown. On the front was simply his name and a number written in elegant cursive.

She turned it over.

If Victoria were the fainting type the numbers staring back at her would have left her on the ground. She gaped up at the two men, then stared back down again. Deep within she felt a crushing defeat. She could never pay this back, never. She could work until her bones turned to dust and not even make a dent.

Looking to her father she shook her head in disbelief. "Dad, how is this possible?"

He avoided her gaze, his head hung low. "Victoria, I-"

"Why would you do this!?" she cried, crushing the card in her hand.

"You know why." Her dad gave her a pained look. "I couldn't stop. And they just kept giving me more. I kept thinking, if I won, even just once, I could give you the life you deserved. And if I lost...I didn't think this would ever come back to you."

"I'm sure now you can understand the gravity of the situation," Vincent said.

"So, what now?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You're just going to take him away?"

Jeramiah smiled sadistically. "Yes."

A cold chill crept up Victoria's spine. "And what will you do with him?"

Jeramiah shrugged. "Kill him, torture him, use him for our amusement. Most likely all of the above. I can assure you, we will receive our monies worth from him before he see's the end."

Oh god! She tasted bile on her tongue. "And there are no other alternatives?"

"Aside from Vincent's gracious offer? As I said, you would fetch a large sum," Jeramiah paused, his blood eyes racking over her, "at auction."

"No!" Dad shouted. "Absolutely not!"

"Dad, please." Victoria held up her hand, forcing herself to remain calm. "What do you mean auction? You would sell me off?"

"Precisely. You would become the personal property to whatever creature wins the bid." He cocked his head. "After that they can do what they want with you, or your body."

I never should have opened the door. Victoria felt weak, as if she'd just gone to war and lost.

"However, I am willing to pay the debt," Vincent said. Taking another step forward he caught her chin in his hand. "If you agree to come with me now."

Go with him? There was no way in hell she was going anywhere with this man!

Reading her horrified expression Vincent said, "It's either come with me or go to auction. Or, Jeramiah takes your father, and from there..." he trailed off with a shrug. "It's your choice."

She couldn't think. The world was spinning. All she knew was she did not want to go with this man. Everything inside her screamed to run, to get the hell away.

How dare this arrogant inhuman - whatever the hell he was - bastard back her into a corner like this?

Jerking back she pursed her lips, dragging up courage she didn't know she possessed. Her face hard as stone she snapped, "Fuck off!"