Oh god I'm sorry I haven't updated in like, months. I'm here to make up for it now, after all it's summer break...I really should be working on my webcomic but hell, I'm going to finish this. Stop cheering, really it's not needed ;D. Oh I messed up on chapter 8, it went into chapter 9 shit, so I'm just adding this stuff in. Forget the error. Well here we go. Onto Chapter 9 (this one is long)

"I just want to ask one more question!" I exclaimed to France-ward as he sped up, his speed far exceeding the speed limit on this quiet road. He wasn't paying any attention to the road more than likely, he was attempting to reach his hands into my pants as I asked him.

He sighed as I swatted his hand away. "Fine, you can ask one more question, Iggy-la. But seriously this is like, you're tenth question mon amour."

"How the bloody hell did you manage to find me, you frog?" I asked him, blushing from him calling me his love. I didn't like this damn frog, no fucking way!

He smirked, a smirk I didn't like whatsoever. I followed the feeling of a prude with extreme sexual tension." He looked away, chuckling as my face turned red like a tomato. I tried to think of an acceptable response, that wouldn't include slamming his face into the wheel and saying every curse word that came to my mind. I failed, horribly and decided to forget about it and remind him about an earlier question.

"You never answered one of my first bloody questions, you wine faced git." I stalled.

He looked at me, annoyed. "Which one of your many questions, Miss Prude?"

My manly eyebrows twitched at that statement. "The 'following the feeling of a prude with extreme sexual tension' thing. Can you feel any sexual feelings? How the fuck do you do it? Does the rest of your family do crazy shit like that, that nobody should do, nor even want to do?" I felt stupid for asking questions like that, but I was trying not to get myself killed by a madman, who was obviously out for sex.

"Uh-uh-uh, that's more than one question, mon petit ami! If you ask another, I'm going to force you to give me roadhead~." He said, smiling. I simply glared at him and waited for a response.

"Fine, I guess I won't get roadhead from Miss Prude over here. It's just me who feels those. I can't feel everyone in the world. Only within a certain distance. The more I know the person, the more I know where they are and their sexual urges. It's quite useful for when I want to watch some. How you say it, free porn. But no more than a few miles." He paused, letting that sink in on me. "It's like when you're in a dance hall with sweaty, turned on people. You just feel it."

"Most of the time I tend to ignore it, unless I feel the urge to, well, watch some. Or find people, like how I found you. Everyone has their own feeling. But as I was saying, it's hard to concentrate when feeling everyone's sexual urges." He frowned, "it's hard when you want to seem normal when you feel everyone's sexual urges. And let me tell you, our school is filled with horny mother fuckers."

"So you found me that way? Do you always feel what I, err, feel?" I asked.

"The curious thing is, no. You switch on and off for me, kind of like a fuzzy old TV. Half of the time when I do feel you, it's very fuzzy and unclear. So I guess that's a way I can find you." He said stroking his beard with a hand and grinning at me.

"Great, so I'm a broken old TV. Good for me." I sighed. At that time I looked at the dashboard.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT DO YOU WANT TO BLOODY KILL US YOU HORNY BASTARD?" I screamed, our speed was over a hundred miles per hour.

"What's wrong with you, Iggy-la? Why are you freaking out?" He said, looking at me with those blue eyes I lo-hated, I hated them.

"You-you're going over a hundred miles per hour!" I said, still panicking but not shouting. I looked out the window in a panic, but I couldn't see anything it was so bloody dark outside.

"Relax, Miss Prude," he said rolling his eyes "we're not going to crash. I always drive like this. And half those times I'm getting roadhead. I have above average concentration skills." As I glared at him he slowed down to eighty miles per hour. "Happy, mon petit ami?"

"No that's still bloody fast, you frog. And stop calling me your little friend, especially in french. I. Dislike. You." I growled.

"This is fast? Hah, mon amour, you have no idea of fast. This is terribly slow for me." He said.

"Slow down more, don't hit that rabbit. Watch out for streetlights." I said glaring at him.

"Mon dieu, enough commentary on my driving skills. You're so annoying, mon amour." He growled at me. "You owe me one thing now. One that I'm sure you'll give me, seeing as you're so opposed to giving me roadhead, even though it's a wonderful thing. What's a theory you have now?"

I glanced sideways, this was one thing I didn't feel like talking about. Especially not now.

"I won't laugh, at least, not a lot." He said.

"I uh, was talking to an old family friend. America-b Black, and he well. He said your family was well, vampires, and you were. French. Please don't laugh." Or rape me, I added in my head.

He did none of those things, he just tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

"What did you do when you got home?" He whispered softly.

"Well, I went onto the internet and researched vampires."

"Did it convince you that I was a vampire and French, Iggy-la?" He said looking straight ahead.

"No, nothing fit at all, I even got a good laugh out of it. But..." I said.

"But what, Iggy-la?" France-ward asked.

"I decided it didn't matter." I whispered looking out the side window.

"Hah, it doesn't matter to you, an Englishman that I'm French? It doesn't matter that I'm a vampire? What kind of idiot are you?" He sounded angry, I wanted to get out of that car, quick.

"No, it doesn't matter to me. I, love you and I always will," I did not just bloody say that I loved that wine faced git! I did not love him!

"Bwahaha, you love me? So you're finally admitting your feelings, mon amour?" He laughed.

"I-I do not! I was just trying to make you feel better!" I stammered, my face bright red. "But I am curious."

"About what, Iggy-la?" He sighed.

"How old are you?"

"About seventeen."

"How long have you been that age? And French?"

"Since, well, the creation of France." he admitted, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"But, you're out during the day time!" I exclaimed. After all, I did know all about vampires, I knew everything there was to know about the occult.

"Well, duh. Haven't you ever read Twilight? That's all true about Vampires, I mean we don't sparkle, but sometimes I'll put on some glitter to attract men. That shit is like a gay magnet!" He said, happily.

"Well, do you, drink blood?" I gulped, coming to the important question.

"Hmmm, not human blood. I survive off the blood of roses. Hence why I love them so much, besides the fact that they're beautiful things that look wonderful on a bed when you're about to have a romani-" He stopped as I punched him in the face.

"Bloody pervert." I muttered.

"Well, mon amour. I'd love to continue this... Rousing... Conversation, however this is your home. I very much so doubt you want me in there right now, so I'll content myself to watching you while you sleep." He said, muttering the last part so I couldn't hear it.

"What did you say, frog? And stop speaking that bloody language. It burns my ears." I grumbled.

"Nothing~ Well, adieu mon amour! I'll see you at school!" He sang as I got out of the car.

I took off his jacket, I mean I am a gentleman after all, and gave it to him. Inhaling the sent of roses secretly.

"Keep the jacket, you'll need it. And maybe you'll jerk off to the sent of it or something tonight. Seriously, you need to stop being such a prude." He smirked at me.

"Fucking frog, I'm not going to touch myself, that's dirty." I blushed.

"Oh by the way, don't go in the woods. You won't like what's in there." He said, suddenly serious. This man, err vampire, was bipolar or something, he switched moods like every few seconds.

"Just go away you bloody bipolar frog." I growled at him.

He drove off, speeding as always. I swore I could hear him chuckling as he drove off. Why did he have to be French? Muttering to myself I walked inside.

"Iggy-la?" Sealand-ie asked from the living room, watching the boat channel more than likely.

"Yes father, it's me." I walked in, sighing. There was no other way to get to my steps. Surprise surprise, he was watching the boat channel.

"You're home early. Can you make me some food?" He said flipping channels.

"Seala- I mean father, I can't cook. And I'm not home early, it's like two in the morning. I'm going to bed." I sighed.

"Eh, whatever. Goodnight Iggy-la." He said turning back to the boat channel. He was a horrible father.

I went to my room and thought about tonight's events. But I knew three things. First, France-ward was a vampire, and French. Second, there was a part of him - and I don't know how dormant that part was - that wanted to have sex with me. And third, If he came near me to rape me and suck my blood, even if I was in love with him. I would murder him.