Title: A Broken Promise

Summary: By this point in Cal's life, he really should have learned that sometimes it just didn't pay to wake up. There was always something bad waiting for him. Too bad he never remembered that until after he woke up.

A/N: More Cal fic!! He's just too much fun to write. This one focuses on Cal and Promise actually and there the Niko/Promise relationship has some place in this fic. Much thanks to sendintheclowns and geminigrl11 for the betas. I had a blast with this fic--and it will be posted in three parts :)

Disclaimer: I totally do not own these--Cal and company belong to Rob Thurman.

-o-

PART ONE

If Cal had his pick of super powers, he was pretty sure that being able to open a portal to anywhere wouldn't be his first choice. For one thing, it was draining. He was getting better at it and it had come in handy from time to time, but spending the time recovering from it was hardly a piece of cake. Not to mention that it made him a beacon to those who wanted to kill him.

Rather, wanted to kill everyone he loved before dragging him back down to hell.

No, that power wasn't really all that it was cracked up to be, especially since it didn't help prevent anything. It didn't tell him when danger was coming, it didn't keep bad things at bay. It was more like a last minute escape plan that he only had enough energy to muster under extreme emotional duress.

He'd take George's ESP any day of the week.

If he'd had it, he never would have gotten out of bed this morning.

Well, truthfully, he wouldn't have gotten out of bed if it weren't for Promise.

Somehow, by being Niko's younger brother, Promise had practically adopted him—which also meant recruiting him at will for any foray she deemed necessary. Unfortunately for Cal, Niko's return to school had made him more indisposed than usual, and Promise didn't like to disrupt Niko from his studies.

Apparently she didn't feel that Cal's sleeping habits mattered quite as much. She could always coerce him under the guise of the business, which Cal thought was pretty low. The business meant a lot to Niko, meant their only source of income, and Cal wanted to pull his weight, to make his brother happy.

Not to mention the fact that if Niko was serious about Promise, then Cal needed to be good to her anyway.

And Niko was serious about everything he did.

Which was how Cal ended up here, traipsing through Central Park on a weekday morning. There were joggers and moms with babies and little groups of school children being led around—none of them worth giving up a half-day's sleep for. He yawned absently, rubbing a trace of sleep from his eyes as he shuffled next to the vampire. "What are we doing here again?" he asked.

Promise looked at him appraisingly and pulled her hood farther over her face. "It is a business contact," she said. "He expressed interest in hiring us for a job."

"What kind of job?"

She gave a half shrug. "He mentioned a string of mysterious accidents at his workplace. He suspected it was something the police would not be able to solve."

"And you need me why?"

She led them under a bridge and stopped, unfolding the hood from her head. Even with the hood, she was a picture of grace and class. Without it, she was striking. Her long hair was always well kept, and for today was swept up into a simple ponytail. The ends of it fell hidden beneath her cloak, a simple black affair that dusted the outside of her silken skirt. "It is best to make an impression of force," she said. "Not all our clients are aware of my skills. They respond better to having a male presence during the negotiations. Don't worry," she told him with a sardonic smile. "I'll handle all the talking. You just stand there and...look adequate."

There was a bite to her last statement, and Cal scowled, looking down at himself. He was in his jeans, mostly because he didn't own much else. But they were a newer pair, devoid of holes and of blood, which was an impressive feat. His t-shirt was also hole-less and blood free, though he hadn't been sure if it were clean or dirty, and it had the wrinkles to prove that confusion. But he'd pulled his jacket over the entire ensemble, which gave him an air of professionalism, or at least more of one than the t-shirt alone.

It's not like he had asked to come along. Promise should really know better than to drag him into professional situations. As it was, beggars couldn't be choosers, and Cal wasn't about to feel self-conscious about something as insanely stupid as his clothes. Especially not for Promise. That was Niko's job.

Sighing, he leaned sulkily against side of the bridge. "It's awfully early in the day for a business meeting," he muttered.

"Not everyone sleeps more than they're awake," Promise said, a mocking smile quirking her lips good-naturedly.

Cal glowered (he had a dark image to maintain). "Sadist."

She feigned surprised. "That's a big word coming from you."

Cal was about to reply, something snide but not very witty, when he saw someone approaching. Someone...little.

Promise saw him too and smiled genially. "Mr. Ely," she said. "It's good to see you this morning."

The man was tiny. Literally. A midget.

Now Cal was used to out there things. He'd seen monsters of all kinds and never even batted an eyelash. So he wasn't sure why this was catching him so off guard.

Promise elbowed him discreetly, and he realized he was staring. Sheepishly, he looked away, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

As Mr. Ely approached, he fixed Cal with a piercing stare that had Cal cringing. The man looked pointedly at Promise. "Who's this?"

"One of my business partners," she said easily. "Mr. Ely, this is Cal Leandros."

Cal remembered to offer his hand, which the man shook without grace. "He looks dirty."

Cal opened his mouth to protest, but Promise beat him to it. "Cal's skills lay in other areas, Mr. Ely," she said easily.

Another elbow silenced Cal's complaint at such derogative language. Instead he clenched his teeth and tried not to glower more than normal.

Mr. Ely was still eyeing him, looking suspicious. "They'd better," he said finally. "Because I'm willing to pay good money for the services you offer."

Now that was more like it. The prospect of a good paycheck was even enough to keep Cal in line.

"Good," Promise said. "Perhaps you would like to discuss the terms of our agreement?"

The small man nodded, but Cal's eyes narrowed. Because the man stepped back, away from Promise, away from him. That wasn't how business deals were closed, that was how—

The flash of movement was too fast to really register and Cal was moving without thinking until everything went black.

-o-

By this point in Cal's life, he really should have learned that sometimes it just didn't pay to wake up. There was always something bad waiting for him. Whether it was Niko's incessant pestering, Robin's endless preening, or even the aftermath of some unbelievably traumatic event, usually he was better off asleep.

Too bad he never remembered that until after he woke up. He might save himself from a headache from time to time.

But there was always something to bring him out, some morbid curiosity as to what he was missing.

This time, it was the sensation of being very, very uncomfortable.

Snuggling down in a warm bed was always pleasant. Doing so on a hard surface where sharp and uneven objects poked into his back was not so much. Which was why, in general, he opted to sleep on a bed (or a couch or a recliner—he wasn't that picky). So why the hell was he on the floor?

Blinking away, he realized he wasn't just on any floor, but on a stone floor. A cold one, littered with dirt, sediment and rocks.

Trying to sit up, he groaned, pain in his head flaring up suddenly. He worked through it, pressing his hand to the back of his head where the pain radiated from.

"Caliban, how do you feel?"

He grunted, squinting his eyes closed before opening them again experimentally.

"Cal?"

He blinked again, realizing that not only was he lying on stone, but he was surrounded by stone walls as well. It was a cavern, chiseled out of hard, dark rock. It was big enough to move around in, but definitely small and confined enough to drive him crazy. There was no outside light source, but it wasn't pitch black, oddly enough. He shuddered.

"Cal?"

He finally turned to the voice, almost surprised to see Promise there. She looked completely out of place. Her carefully done hair was mussed and her clothing stained, and she was seated against the opposite wall, looking at Cal with detached concern.

Swallowing dryly, he managed to croak, "Yeah."

She looked marginally relieved. "You've been unconscious," she informed him. "I believe you may have a concussion."

He felt the back of his head again, wincing at the bump there and feeling a wave of nausea pass through him. "What the hell happened?" The sound of his own voice echoed in his skull, flaring with pain.

"We were betrayed," she said. "It was a set-up."

"A set-up? From the little guy?"

"Apparently his intentions were not pure," she said blandly. "Nor was he alone."

Cal squinted at her, trying to remember. If his eyes could just focus and his brain would stop throbbing, it would be much easier. He remembered the bridge, the midget, then—

"They tried to apprehend me, and you attempted to stop them."

Cal looked at her, leaned against the wall of their enclosed space. "I did one hell of a job, didn't I?"

"They took a gun to your head," she explained. "Blunt side, thankfully, or I'd never be able to explain it to Niko."

That explained the bump on the back of his head. But how had they gotten Promise? And he hoped there were more than two of them or his fighting skills were getting more than a little rusty.

"While I was attempting to assist you, they managed to inject me with something."

Well, that was one Cal hadn't expected. "Inject you?" Cal said, shocked. "Why the hell would they do that? And where the hell are we? And what the—"

His voice cut out with a sharp pain in his head that made him wilt back toward the ground, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to escape it.

"I believe we may have acquired more enemies than we had previously thought," Promise was saying. "Considering the drug they were carrying, I think I may have been the intended target, but I cannot be sure. There are many things that don't make sense. Cal? Caliban?"

She sounded a little weird, a bit un-Promise-like, which really should be reason enough to sit up and look her in the eye, but Cal's body refused to respond. It was on mutiny, pure and simple, swirling and fading and dissipating into nothing.

-o-

He woke again to the sound of a feminine voice, this time with the addition of soft fingers against his face. "Cal? Can you hear me?"

He groaned, turning away as his stomach roiled.

"Easy. Just breathe for a moment."

Breathing—now why hadn't he thought of that? The novelty of that concept surprised him, and he forced his lungs to remember how to work.

They may have worked, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be so hard. And that things weren't supposed to hurt quite this bad. And, geez, it reeked.

The hands steadied him, pulling him up. "Can you open your eyes?"

He wanted to just say no and avoid the issue entirely.

"Caliban." She was scolding him now.

Giving in, he cracked his eyes, shrinking away from the face that seemed to hover above his. It took a moment—a long, awkward, nauseating moment—but his eyes focused and his stomach settled. "Promise?"

The relief on her face was palpable. "Do you know where you are?"

Wherever it was, it wasn't home, in bed, so he knew it wasn't any place he wanted to be. As the four stone walls came into focus, his memory tripped. "We were ambushed."

"Yes," she said with an encouraging but weary smile. "The wound to your head is serious. Your pupils are even, but you've been disoriented."

He struggled to sit up, sheepishly accepting her help.

"You've also vomited," she informed him and he wondered how she could say that like it was absolutely no big deal.

At least that explained the smell. "Sorry," he mumbled.

She didn't seem to need the apology. "Do you remember anything else?"

"Just...waking up here. Meeting the midget. Not much else." Except blinding, mind-numbing pain.

Seeming to be satisfied that he wouldn't keel over, she moved back, sitting again, though still close to him. "As I was saying earlier, they overpowered us, and I awoke here. The walls are thick, impenetrable by any means we have within here. Our possessions are gone. Clearly, this was not an accident."

That was stating the obvious—as if he slammed himself into someone's gun by accident. "But why?" he asked, trying to shuffle aside his sarcasm. It took too much brainpower to maintain anyway.

Something imperceptible fell in her face. She was not one to show weakness—ever—but Cal could tell she was out of her element. "I don't know."

He didn't like to hear that tone in her voice, that small sense of defeat, of hopelessness. He pushed himself up even more, hoping to gain his feet.

Her hands were on him immediately, gently restraining. "What do you think you're doing?"

He pushed against her, but the concussion was really putting a damper on his mobility and despite her small frame, Promise was stronger than she looked. "We need to get out of here," he explained.

"I just told you there was no way out, didn't I?"

He stilled at that, looking up at her. "Yeah, but—"

"But nothing," she said simply. "You've been unconscious longer than you think. Believe me when I say I have exhausted all possible means of escape."

At that, Cal deflated, letting himself slump back to the ground. "So what—we wait then?"

She hesitated and Cal knew why.

He resisted the urge to go back to sleep and avoid her next question.

"Can you open a portal?" she asked, her voice hesitant. She knew what it did to him, she'd seen what it did to him. She wouldn't have asked unless it was their only option.

Cal grimaced. It was a question he'd been trying to avoid. He may be able to open them, he may have used them in the past, but there was no doubt they made him feel vulnerable. Dirty. They were how the Auphe tracked him; worse, they were a sign of what he really was. No matter how long he'd lived with that, it never made it easier. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Will you try?" she asked simply, but damn convincingly.

Every aching fiber in his head screamed no, but Cal figured that really wasn't the best attitude to take when trapped underground with a vampire without her iron supply. Much less one who could thrash him with one hand tied behind her back. "Yeah," he grunted, trying to prop himself up. He glanced at her warily. "You might want to, uh...stand back."

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Just in case." Just in case he couldn't control where it went. There was no need to send his brother's girlfriend to hell, no matter how much she liked to torment him.

She slid backwards.

Satisfied, Cal tried to focus. Opening rifts had come naturally at times, but controlling one—that was another issue entirely. He'd done it, and he was no doubt improving, though he never could vocalize why or how on either front. Clenching his teeth, he focused, keeping his mind set on the apartment.

Pain rippled through his head and he gasped, doubling over toward the ground.

The rift was there, open, but it flickered, it ebbed and flowed, which was all fine and good except for one minor detail.

He had no control.

His mind was screaming, aching with it. It was draining under the best of circumstances. He could only guess the concussion was screwing things up. Badly.

He swallowed, trying to stop it, to pull it back, anything before he made the entire city of New York crash face first into his apartment.

That was, if his brain didn't explode first.

He felt hands on him, a presence. "Cal? Cal, are you alright?"

Promise.

Sheesh, did he look okay?

"You have to stop it," he ground out, as he recognized his own loss of control. "Stop me." He was practically begging.

He caught a glimpse of pain in her eyes, disappointment, and for a second Cal wondered if she was capable.

As he remembered her fighting in the Moonshine, he realized it was a stupid thought, a second before her hand fell hard across his jaw and everything went black. Again.

-o-

Waking up for the fourth time in one day was really not his idea of a good time. If he was going to be knocked unconscious all the time, he would really rather just stay that way. This up and down, awake and out thing was getting old fast.

He felt Promise watching him before he really managed to open his eyes successfully. When the room had stopped spinning and his stomach was not at risk for expelling its meager contents, she asked, "You alright?"

There was that question again, and it was just about as ridiculous now as it had been every other time she'd asked it so far today.

He grimaced, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. Her look was tender, apologetic, and he felt guilty for failing all over again. "I can't do it," he said flatly.

Her face showed no expression. "I know."

"It must be the concussion," he tried to explain, feeling even guiltier. The only good part of having that weird Auphe skill was to use it to save those around him. To know he had it but couldn't use it, well, it just added to the sense of failure he felt for not getting them out of this to begin with. "I can try again."

Her expression changed to one of compassion. "There is no point in exhausting yourself," she said. "Besides, I'm sure by now they realize we are missing."

No doubt, they, meaning Robin and Nik. And that much was true, a solace so real that they could both take comfort in it. He let himself breathe, evenly in and out, willing the world to settle along with his stomach. "Nik's going to be pissed," he said, laughing slightly. "I'm not supposed to let anything happen to you."

"I've received the same lecture," Promise commented, bemused. "Looks like we'll both be in for some extra training when he finally gets a hold of us."

Cal grunted. "You know," he said. "If we teamed together, we could take him. Tie him up and do things our way."

She merely raised her eyebrows. "Somehow I doubt that."

Cal exhaled loudly, trying to shift on the rock-laden ground. "Yeah," he said. "I think you're right about that."

-o-

Cal was bored.

He'd tried to open the portal again, but had received the same violent headache and had retched again before Promise could put him under. The blissful unconsciousness had earned him an hour or so of oblivion, but now awake and as alert as he figured he would be, he was itching for something to do.

Not that anyone ever said being held prisoner in some nondescript underground cavern would be a lot of fun, but the least the guy could have done was left him with something to do.

But he had nothing.

No weapons, no cell phone, no wallet. Nothing.

Except his brother's girlfriend.

Promise, for her part, was sitting quietly across from him, her legs crossed in front of her, resting calmly and easily against the wall. Her gaze was mostly neutral, but Cal could detect some frustration coming through.

Not that he could blame her. Getting trapped wasn't probably her idea of a good time either, especially not with him. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, and that left conversation. Cal was not a conversationalist by any stretch of the imagination, but talking sure seemed more appealing than drowning in the monotony of nothingness.

He turned his eyes back to Promise, smiling in what he hope was a congenial way. "So," he said. "How are you?"

If there'd been any doubts on his people skills, that ice-breaker about summed it up.

She looked at him, slightly bemused. "I'm trapped in a cavern with no means of escape," she replied. "There's nothing to do, and no privacy."

Cal contained a wince—that one had hurt. He knew he wasn't much company, but he was hoping he wasn't that bad.

Her face softened, and she smiled conciliatorily. "I am a private creature," she explained. "I've seen many ages of men but kept my distance from them all. Mine has always been a solitary path."

His hurt vanished, replaced quickly by empathy. He knew that feeling, that desire to hold himself aloof. It was the one he'd fought with every day of his life, the one that told him he was too monstrous to be around others, the one that made him push everyone but Niko away.

At least before. He still wasn't ready to commit to people, not like George may have wanted, but he was learning to trust for the first time in his life. Robin and Promise—they were people he would stand beside, people he'd fight for, people who'd fought for him. It was hard to accept, harder still to understand, but it was changing him.

He knew it was changing her, as well.

She'd been around for centuries, had even been married before, but those things didn't necessarily equate with trust. Not like what she had with Niko. Not like what she had with them.

But old habits died hard.

"It gets lonely though," Cal said, letting his eyes roam the ceiling of the prison.

She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. A moment of silent understanding passed between them.

Cal wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep himself steady to avoid jarring his sensitive head. A familiar sensation rippled through his abdomen. He scrunched his nose. That wasn't a development he'd thought of.

"Something wrong?" Promise asked.

Cal offered her an innocent smile. "Let's just hope Nik gets here before I have to go to the bathroom," he said.

She just stared at him.

"What? I had a doughnut and coffee. Those things are rough on the digestive tract."

She just closed her eyes and seemed to pretend that Cal wasn't even there. Which was okay by him. He closed his and pretended he wasn't, either.

-o-

For all of Caliban's talk, he actually could be quite a gentleman, which was Niko's influence no doubt. His conversation was forced but strangely sweet, and he'd kept an easy distance from her, closing his eyes whether he was sleeping or not to allow her the privacy he seemed to sense she wanted.

The poor boy had even made it an entire twelve hours before guiltily relieving himself in the corner, an immodesty Promise could not degrade herself to quite yet.

He was obviously uncomfortable, offering her apologetic smiles more often than not, as if to apologize for being in there with her. This was somewhat amusing to her. Despite all of Cal's outward roughness (and there was a lot of that), he had a certain sensitivity that she'd never really seen before.

She appreciated this sensitivity in their capture together. The space he provided her helped her relax, helped her hide the fact that this was wearing on her far more than it was him. He seemed to think she was impenetrable. She was not yet ready to tell him of her only weakness.

She sighed. Niko often wanted her to spend time with Cal, for her to get to know him on a different level. She had gone along with Niko's request, often recruiting Cal for business meetings and discussions that allowed them more one-on-one time, and she'd managed to ease herself into a comfortable relationship with the younger Leandros brother.

However, there was still tension. Seeing Cal as a monster was not something she was inclined to do, not since her relationship with Niko so colored her outlook on the boy. Niko believed inherently in his younger brother, fighting for him doggedly, even at the expense of himself. It was hard not to come to respect the boy in those circumstances.

But it was also hard not to resent him as well.

So much of Niko's life was based on him, and therefore any part of her life with Niko was as well. And to see the boy continually thrusting Niko into dangerous situations, into stressful situations—she simply did not enjoy seeing the man she loved in that manner.

Ever since her words to Cal in the RV, there had been a certain hesitancy between them. She had apologized, and he accepted, and they'd fought side by side since then. But Cal had closed something of himself off, some personal wall, as if to protect himself from her emotional attacks.

She figured time would solve that problem, time and proximity. They couldn't get much closer than being trapped in a small room together. It made sense to capitalize.

Besides, it would take her attention off the other pressing problems that were itching the back of her mind.

Namely, her need for iron.

Cal hadn't figured it out yet, and she was pinning her hopes on rescue before it became an issue. There was a reason she never left without her purse and her stockpile of pills. She never wanted to be caught unawares. Without her iron, her urges were...powerful.

Luckily, the boy had other things on his mind. Mostly sleep, his concussion, and his own rumbling stomach.

He was seated now, which was a good sign, she figured. She'd been worried about the intensity of his head wound, and yet had had few means to deal with it except to watch him carefully.

"When we get out of here," he said suddenly, "I'm going to eat an entire pizza."

"So your nausea has receded then?"

He swallowed, his forehead scrunching up. "Well, mostly," he said. "When I'm not moving, anyway."

She let the obvious quip pass unsaid between them.

"Maybe Nik will even spring for a real dinner, not one of his health food, new age places. I'd probably devour a steak faster than a werewolf. What I wouldn't give for a five course meal." His voice trailed off and a dreamy expression crossed his face.

She clenched her teeth, hard, feeling her fangs resting against the inside of her lips. What she wouldn't give for her pills. Her pills or a nice, warm vial of blood.

-o-

It was funny how he could be so hungry for so long that he didn't even really feel it anymore. His hunger had gone from uncomfortable, to panging, to the hollow numbness which he now felt.

Worse than that, he was dry as a bone. His throat tickled with it and he was sure the ache in his head wasn't helped by it either. Even blinking felt uncomfortable.

He'd resigned himself to sitting. Sitting and thinking. Well, maybe sitting and brooding. He wasn't really known for his intelligent thought, but his brooding was pretty standard.

Promise was unusually quiet. Not that she was the overly chatty type, but with all they'd been through together, with all that Niko had meant to both of them, they certainly got along. Promise had been annoyed with him on occasion—sometimes in a little brother kind of way that Cal seemed to grate on everyone's nerves. Other times out of her defense of Niko, and Cal couldn't help but be grateful to her for that much. His brother deserved someone like her.

And it wasn't like he'd done anything recently to get on her nerves, but maybe spending two days trapped with him underground was making her edgy. He didn't smell the best under prime conditions, and with her vamped up sense of smell, the Auphe part of him probably reeked to high heaven.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

She tensed but didn't answer, keeping her gaze down.

Cal sniffed himself experimentally. "I'm sure Niko's working on a way out," he assured her. "You won't be stuck with me for much longer."

She made a sound, almost a grunt, if anything as refined as Promise could grunt.

He swallowed, feeling his stomach grumble hungrily. He hadn't eaten since he'd gotten stuck here, and the water supply was nonexistent. What he wouldn't give for a chili cheese dog right about now...

Crap. No wonder Promise was acting weird. "You need blood, don't you?"

She licked her lips, turning her eyes upon him. In them, he saw a hunger he'd never seen before. A desperate, yearning hunger.

Cal swallowed. Hard. "What can we do?"

She grimaced, looking down again. "What can we do?"

Cal looked around, desperately, though he knew it was a lost cause. They had no supplies and there was nothing but dirt and rock around them. Nothing to satisfy his own hunger and nothing to satiate hers.

The back of his head throbbed, and he could feel the stickiness in his hair.

Well, not quite nothing.

No wonder she didn't want to sit near him. It was like sitting next to an all-you-can-eat buffet and not being able to touch.

"How much longer can you go?"

"Most vampires need some kind of daily sustenance," she ground out. "Blood often works best. I must take the iron several times a day in order to make it be sufficient."

Damn. That certainly wasn't good news. Especially since they'd probably been there a day already.

"Niko will be here soon," Cal said, hoping it sounded encouraging, not desperate.

Her grim smile suggested she didn't totally believe him.

He swallowed hard against the pounding of his heart. "How much blood do you need?"

She glanced up at him, haltingly, suspiciously. "A liter," she said. "It's not truly enough, but it will keep me going for a day."

A liter didn't sound so bad. He didn't know a lot about the body, but he knew some blood was expendable, that the body could survive without some and regenerate it. Surely he could sacrifice a little, especially since it didn't look like she'd make it much longer.

The idea of it though—being drunk like some sort of human beverage dispenser—it made him queasy (well, that could just be the concussion). But this was Promise. This was Niko's girl. Moreover, she needed help. And he could give it.

"So just a liter, huh?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No, Cal," she said. "I can't."

"It would only be enough to tide you over—"

"I haven't in so long," she said, her voice cracking. "I promised myself."

"It's not the same," Cal countered. He forced a grin on his face. "Besides, it's not like you'd be draining me or anything. I can spare a little. I did promise Nik I'd look out for you."

"And I promised him I would look out for you," she replied. "Drinking your blood would not exactly be fulfilling that obligation."

Cal rolled his eyes. "It's not the same thing," he said. "You have my permission. I want you to. I don't want you to suffer."

That much was true without a doubt. It was hard to watch her, knowing her as he did. She was the epitome of grace and elegance, so calm and collected—the perfect match for his stoic and reserved brother.

She closed her eyes, seemed to contain a shudder. "We'll wait," she said. "Niko will come. Niko has to come."

"Of course he will," Cal said, hoping for both their sakes it was true.

-o-

Time had never really been on Cal's side, and time never seemed to move like he wanted it to. So the hours seemed painfully long and lonely, just him and Promise. No word from their kidnappers. No sign of rescue. If Nik was coming, he was just a bit slower than either of them hoped. Apparently, the cavalry didn't always have perfect timing.

To her credit, Promise lasted quite awhile. At least it seemed that way. Cal really didn't know how long it'd been—they'd taken his cell phone and his watch after bashing his head in.

"Cal," she said, her voice straining.

Cal's stomach turned, hating the entire situation. The idea of getting the blood sucked out of him wasn't high on his list of things to do today, but looking at Promise, he had no choice. Her normally regal exterior was cowering and desperate. He wouldn't deny her. He couldn't.

Scooting closer tentatively, he kept his voice soft. "How do you want to do this?"

She looked up, greedily. "Your wrist," she said. "Give me your wrist."

Cal shrugged out of his jacket, turning his wrist over and offering it to her.

She only hesitated for a moment before her slender hands took his arm and pulled it close. "I'll only take a little," she said, her voice wispy. "Just enough to tide me over."

Cal just nodded, though he was pretty sure that any blood drained from him was too much, just in principle.

Her lips were dry and soft as they brushed his wrist and he flinched but she held him firmly. Her lips bared, Cal caught a glimpse of her teeth gleaming and white as they descended right into his skin.

At first it was nothing more than a needle prick, sharp and sudden, and he gasped.

It was hard to look at her, hunched over his wrist, sucking so eagerly, like an animal. This wasn't Promise. This wasn't the refined, amazing woman that his brother loved. It just wasn't.

His stomach flipped. He wasn't sure if it was the concussion, the blood loss, or just the sight before him, but he had to turn his head and look away, wishing he could drown out the suckling noises that filled the cavern.

-o-

Things were awkward.

Okay, more than awkward. Awkward was about the understatement of the year. Maybe the century, where Promise was concerned.

What was he supposed to say? Gee, how's the weather? How you feeling? What about those Yankees this year? Oh, and my wrist is feeling just fine after you sucked the blood out of it.

Cal had seen some weird crap in his day. He'd done weird crap in his day, stuff that would have most good and normal people spinning out of their sweet, little naive brains. The very fact that he was half demonic probably had something to do with it, not to mention his whole stint in hell and his attempt to end the world.

So really, Cal just shouldn't be surprised anymore. Maybe it was the lightheadedness, maybe it was the lack of fresh air, but it was really hard to take having his brother's girlfriend drink his blood.

He'd known she was a vamp, sure, and over time he'd gotten to know a little about modern vamp habits. But seeing her sucking at his arm, slurping his blood, really put her refined, elegant image in question.

Glancing at her, she was sullen against the wall, nearly gray in the dim light. She had retreated there after relinquishing his arm. They hadn't said a word since and she hadn't even looked at him. She seemed to be taking this about as well as he was.

"You okay?" he asked, knowing exactly how ridiculous the question was. Of course she wasn't okay. She had just given into a primal urge she'd long since buried, and he couldn't imagine she was feeling to keen on her relationship with Niko at this point. It was one thing to not get along with the in-laws. It was another entirely to slurp the plasma from under their skin.

She looked at him, her eyes grim and exhausted. "I'm feeling much better, thank you." Her voice was soft and colorless and as carefully crafted as ever. She knew how to keep her composure, there was no doubt about it.

But Cal knew. Cal could see what she wasn't saying, what she wouldn't let herself say.

He sighed.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said.

She didn't even flinch. She also didn't look up.

"Promise, I'm serious," he said. "You can't change what you are."

"Which is what? A monster?" Her eyes flashed up at him with a sudden vigor that surprised him.

He smiled slightly, tentatively. "Well, if you're a monster, then I must already be condemned, because I know you, Promise. And you've got nothing on me in the monster department."

There was doubt in her eyes when she looked away again. "You're not a monster, Caliban."

"You've been hanging around Niko too long," he said lightly.

"Your DNA doesn't make you a monster. It's what you do."

"I seem to have pretty vivid memories of trying to destroy the world," Cal pointed out.

Promise shook her head. "You couldn't control that."

"I know," he said. "And you couldn't control this. So don't worry so much about it."

She held his gaze a moment longer, questioningly and maybe hopeful before she smiled and leaned her head back. "And Niko says you have no inclination to philosophy."

Cal snorted at that. "He said that?" What was his beloved big brother doing talking about him when he was dating a woman as beautiful as Promise? They'd need to have a talk about Niko's priorities when he got out of here.

"Every day," she confirmed. "Drives him crazy."

"It's not my fault he's an introspective freak," Cal said.

"Nor is it yours that you're an uncouth barbarian most of the time."

Cal grinned. "Careful, Promise, or I'm going to think you're hitting on me."

She rolled her eyes. "Only you would consider that a pick up line, Caliban."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You know you're wondering if you picked the wrong brother."

She seemed to consider this. "Well, it depends," she said. "Can you do the things Niko does with his legs?"

That was an image he simply did not want. He groaned, holding his head. "Come on," he said. "That's just not fair."

She shrugged innocently. "You started it."

He grunted, closing his eyes. "And I'm going to end it too." The pull of sleep was nearly immediate, nearly paralyzing. "Wake me when Niko's here."

-o-

Niko wasn't there when he woke up. Promise was though, seated on the opposite side of the room, sleeping sitting up, her body turned protectively away from him.

It was weird to see her sleeping.

He knew she surely did sleep, as most beings did, but as he watched her with closed eyes against the wall of the cavern, he realized he'd never seen her sleep before. Any time he might have seen her sleeping, he'd probably been asleep himself. Why he wasn't sleeping now—that was a matter of sheer restlessness. His legs were threatening to cramp, so stretching them by walking the small confines of the room was his only recourse.

They'd been quiet, letting the hours slip silently between them, and he'd been so lost in his own ruminations that he'd never even seen her nod off.

Vamps probably didn't need as much, but he couldn't help but feel that she was nearly above sleep somehow. A creature like her had more important things to do.

Unless you were stuck in a freakin' underground cavern.

That thought annoyed Cal and he kicked the wall just out of principle.

"That won't do any good," Promise said, and Cal jumped.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She straightened, not even acknowledging his apology. "You know the walls are thick and pure rock. Any way out will only come from outside."

That was hardly comforting, but Cal forced a smile anyway. "Good thing Nik's out there then," he said, pushing himself to a standing position, wavering slightly on his jellied legs. "Because I'm about to go stir crazy in here."

"Niko is quite persistent," she agreed and he could feel her watching him, maybe waiting for him to pass out. This was the most he'd been upright in hours.

Cal snorted, pacing the small length of the room, keeping a hand on trailing along the wall to steady himself. Toppling over would do nothing for his bad boy image. "That's one way of putting it."

She didn't reply, but he could feel her eyes tracking him as he walked back and forth.

He kicked the wall again, unable to help the feeling of claustrophobia that was settling over him. "I am just so ready to get out."

"Perhaps if you tried relaxing," she suggested. "Some sort of meditation."

Cal laughed loudly, maybe a tad hysterically. "That is exactly what Nik would do if he were here. He'd sit there, right in the middle of the floor and cross his legs and do that yoga thing he does."

"Your brother is a smart man," she said.

Cal's smile fell at that and he sunk back to his seat on the ground, feeling his body wilting again. "I'm just so tired," he snapped, feeling his self-control ebbing. "I want to get out of here."

Cal moved to stand again, which turned out to be a bad idea. The cavern spun and his stomach turned and he found himself nearly gagging.

When his head cleared, Promise was next to him, gently restraining him. "Cal? Are you alright?"

Breathing thickly, he winced but nodded. "I think so. Just a little vertigo, I think."

"You head wound perhaps," she said.

Cal resisted the urge to snipe sarcastically. No reason to take his bad day out on her. It wasn't like she was having a better one. Keeping his breathing steady, he willed his stomach to settle. "Yeah," he said. "Maybe."

"You should stay still," she advised. "Don't aggravate your wounds."

Now that didn't make him feel completely pathetic and emasculated. It would help if he actually thought he could still move and was conscripted by weakness to comply with her suggestion.

"You know, you might be a good nurse," he said, opting for humor instead. "Except for that whole attraction to blood thing."

"Yes, and you'd be a good patient if not for your dazzling personality."

Cal feigned hurt. "Come on, Promise, that's low."

A small half-smile quirked her lips. "Are you saying that you're not man enough?"

"Oh, I'm man enough," Cal scoffed. "I can do anything Niko can and then some."

Easing herself back against the wall, she just smiled. "Somehow, I doubt that," she said, more than a little suggestively.

Cal groaned, throwing his arm over his face. "I really do not want to know."

-o-

Cal slept more as time wore on. Promise had watched him carefully, discreetly, so he wouldn't notice. The head injury had made him sluggish, not that it had made a huge difference on his wit, but it was the lack of food and water that was making him exhausted.

She was pretty sure the blood loss wasn't helping too much.

She'd been careful though, very careful and measured. She'd only taken from Cal what she needed to stay functional. She'd only taken what he could easily regenerate. It kept her sane, but it did nothing to quell her urges.

Hunger panged within her.

It had been nearly a day since she had last fed. Hours since she'd exhausted Cal's left wrist. Hours, and she wanted more.

She needed more.

She stared at Cal hard, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest in the dimness. He was on his back, his head turned away from her. That boy certainly did enjoy his sleep. She'd always known that; Niko complained of it often, but seeing his sleep in action was something entirely new.

On the back of his neck, she could see the dried blood, and she wanted more.

She needed more.

It was an endless, vicious circle.

She closed here eyes and turned her head. Perhaps she could learn something from Cal and try to sleep the time away. Perhaps it wasn't as much laziness as a chance to escape from the interminable wait for rescue.

Trying to relax, she tried to believe that. She was waiting for Niko to rescue them, waiting for him to dig through those walls, strong and determined, to find them.

As she drifted off, it was hard to believe. Hard to believe that she was waiting for anything but death.

-o-

Promise looked terrible. Starving and almost crazed, the look of the homeless hobos who roamed the streets scuffling through trash bins. Desperation.

Niko would not be happy if his girlfriend died, especially on Cal's watch. Especially when Cal could stop it.

And Cal may have not been the most altruistic guy around, but he'd do anything for Niko.

Anything.

He scooted over, holding his wrist out. "Here," he said. "You need more."

She looked at him, scared almost, glancing from his face to his wrist.

"You need to get your strength back."

"I will not hurt you."

Cal rolled his eyes. "Come on. I've survived worse than this."

She paused, considering. There was no way denying that one. "That wrist is no longer suitable," she said. "The pressure of drinking shrinks the veins."

Well, that was pleasant. Cal restrained a grimace and held out his other one. "Something fresh then," he quipped.

The look she gave him was one of desperation and grief. She didn't want to do this. Every moral fiber in her being was resisting this.

But every instinct inside of her was screaming for blood.

The battle was epic and Cal almost felt guilty for weighing in on it so heavily. He didn't want to shatter her resolve, but he didn't want her to die. She could always recover from a lapse in her moral lines. She would not recover from a lack of nutrition.

"It doesn't mean anything," he said. "It's just survival."

She closed her eyes, swallowing painfully. "I'm so hungry, Caliban."

"I know," he said softly, holding his wrist out. "It means nothing to do this."

Eyes open and tired, her mouth opened in longing. She licked her lips. "I'm sorry," she said softly, nearly sobbing. "I'm sorry."

"Shh," he said, scooting himself until he was next to her, his wrist in her lap.

Her eyes rolled up in to her head and her hands went unconsciously to Cal's wrist, her fingers lightly stroking it. Then her head dropped forward, her hair falling about her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she murmured before she sunk her teeth in and it took every ounce of strength Cal had not to squirm away.

His blood raced within him, pouring out of him, almost pulled out of him, throbbing in tandem with the powerful aura of the vampire that held him.

He choked on a cry as he realized she could kill him if she wished, she could bleed him dry and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it at all. It was a terrifying sensation of powerlessness, of defeat, that ebbed deeply within him. He turned his head away, submitting to her power, to her need, and clinging to the hope that she really was not a monster.

He drifted, his panic lessening as his strength fled him entirely.

As suddenly as it began, he was released, his wrist dropped limply on her lap and he was shoved away violently. He let himself fall to the side, feeling the rock against his cheek as his chest heaved for air, for life.

Distantly he heard her sobbing, and he knew he should go to her, comfort her. But he couldn't move, couldn't do anything except let oblivion take him once again.