Marked in Silver ๑ m.c. [The Bound: Book Two]

Chapter Four.

Chapter Four.

Michael knew she was afraid. He didn't need to look at her face to know it. His arm was still around her shoulder, and he could feel the tension in her body, and it wasn't there only because he was making physical contact with her. In his opinion, she was smart to be scared. 

"Alright, sweetheart. We're here. Who are we looking for?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could make himself sound. 

It took Clarabelle a moment to gather her thoughts. 

"I'm not entirely sure," she finally said. 

Michael was quiet for a split second. "You wanted me to bring you here. I did. Now you're telling me that you don't know who you're looking for?" he asked cautiously. 

"I'm running on the very little information that has been gathered by other hunters, alright?" she sounded exasperated.

Michael gave her a look, "Do not under any circumstance ever say the H word again. Not in here anyways. People have been killed by far less". His face was serious to emphasize the warning. Clarabelle nodded casually.

"Fine. But it's the truth. Most people that have faced this guy haven't seen the light of day again. He's dangerous," she said. 

Michael smiled, "Aren't we all?"

Clarabelle ignored this, though she knew he was right.

"All I know is that they call him The White Fang," she revealed. Michael nodded, seemingly only half interested. His eyes were at the bar.

"Want something to drink?" he asked, as soon as she went quiet. With a long sigh she shrugged.

"Sure, whatever. It'll be a miracle if we find this guy tonight". 

"Don't be a downer. Optimism is the way to go," Michael grinned childishly at her as he steered her towards the bar. Clarabelle rolled her eyes at Michael, something that had clearly become a habit. He actually enjoyed it. It was a clear sign that his words had some sort of effect on her.

The place was not packed but there was enough people to make them change directions ever so often to find their way to their destination. Once they made it to the bar, Michael got the bartender's attention, "Vodka tonic for me, and for the lady," he turned to Clarabelle, and she gave him a look that confused him. She moved her eyes towards the bartender, "I want the same he's having," she said. Michael smiled as the young man behind the bar began working on their drinks. 

"I like a woman that can drink," he said close to her ear. She tried to ignore the goosebumps that arose on her arms. 

"Oh then you'll love me," she said teasingly.

They drank 3 of the drinks each... maybe four, if they had downed one of them without paying attention. The alcohol had affected her a little bit more than him, but only slightly. They were laughing about nothing in particular as he steered her through the club. 

"We need to find this guy," Michael said with determination. His words only slurred at the last syllable.

"Easier said then done," Clarabelle said, rolling her eyes. She almost tripped over her own feet, but Michael's arm on her waist kept her from falling. 

"He's an important guy and he comes to this place. We'll find him," he assured. Clarabelle wasn't as sure, but mostly because she wasn't at all that concerned with finding the guy at the moment. She was too distracted by Michael's smile, and his green eyes that would not stop staring at her. 

His smile always widened when she caught him looking, as if he knew the effect he was having on her. She was a little bit more than unnerved, but she wasn't for long. Once they had walked across the room, she noticed a black curtain that looked like it could be an entrance to something. She turned that way and pulled Michael with her. Behind the curtain there turned out to be what was supposed to be a dark secluded room. There was a leather couch against one of the walls. 

"V.I.P" Michael said in amusement. Clarabelle smiled at him, which only confused him. 

"This is never going to happen again, just so you know," she told him. Michael's brow was furrowed.

"What? The drinking? Because people always say they're never going to drink and blah blah blah, but they always do. It's all bullshit," he said with a shrug.

Clarabelle took a step towards him, "No, I mean this," she grabbed his leather jacket with both hands and pulled him against her. Michael caught on quickly as to what was going on and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to meet her lips with his without as much as word or a question. Then their mouths were on fire, both with the lingering mix of the alcohol consumed by each and also by the sparks of the flaming passion of their kiss. 

As they kissed, Michael found a way to corner her against a wall. His lips left hers and trailed down her neck, scorching her skin with the warmth of his lips and his tongue. Clarabelle was so far gone in the pleasure of their heated encounter to notice that one of his hands was no longer roaming over her body, but digging inside his jeans pockets. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured against the soft skin of her neck, "I really do like you".

She was confused at his words until she felt the stinging pain of a needle on her arm. Michael's mouth leaves her skin, and now his green eyes are looking at her face. His expression is serious. More intimidating than she's ever seen him. He brushed a hand against her cheek as her vision started to obscure. The last thing she remembers before she passes out, is Michael's words, "You were looking for me, Belle. Well, you found me".  

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A/N: Holy shit :O Uhm.. does this count as a cliffhanger? I think it does. Sorry :x

So what do you think? I was going to have someone else be the bad guy, but then I thought it would be even more exciting if Michael was. So this happened. Oh well... this complicates things, huh?

Anyways, stay awesome peeps.

Liz.x