Kurt gasped and cried out as he held his quivering form up against the tiled wall, his forehead pressed against the cold surface in an effort to concentrate on anything but the force of the icy water being fired against his still freezing cold body from the hose being held by the guard who was laughing along with his four colleagues. Every few seconds they would turn off the hose then at full force turn it back on at a different part of Kurt's body, trying to make him fall, but Kurt held strong, nails scrapping at the porcelain tiles, even when his knees gave into the pressure he held himself up, not giving them the satisfaction.

His teeth chattered as the water turned off again, the laughter and taunting of the guards clear to hear now, but Kurt didn't care to listen, instead trying to force some strength back into his legs to hold him steady while he tried to fill his lungs with as much air as he could; the force of the water making it incredibly difficult to breathe. His head was still clouded and dizzy from the drugs that had been pumped into his body since he'd been held captive in that freezer, the water doing nothing to help that, but this was also the first time Kurt had been without the blindfold he hated so much.

He knew why though, the drug hadn't clouded his mind that much and he'd seen his reflection in the broken mirror just outside these wet rooms. He had no colour to his eyes, no bright blue irises nor pitch black pupils, just white eyes. One of the guards was explaining to the others about how the mixture of the drug given to him would create the film over the eyes to stop a pixie from casting a spell. Though what spell they thought Kurt would cast on them he didn't know.

His head hit the tiles hard as the water hit him on the back of the head, he tried to cry out but the water would either take his breath away or he'd end up choking on the barrage of water. Kurt tried to move his head away from the water, but it followed him no matter where he twisted his head. He brought his hands up to try and protect his head but lost his balance, his hands flying back to the wall to pull himself up from his shaking bent legs, but with the disorientation and the loss of balance on his right foot, he fell.

His hands flew out to catch his fall and he gasped for air until the water returned, hitting his side and spinning him back against the wall. The water turned off and through his coughed, panic breaths Kurt tried to turn his back to the hose but all too quickly the water fired at his chest and stomach. He tried to push the water away with his hands, the pressure making it impossible to breathe but to no avail. With a pained cry, Kurt forced his body to swivel round on the floor, the release on his chest allowing him to force the needed air in as much as he could while the water continued to hit against his back.

The water turned off and Kurt did what he could to take in as much air as he could while coughing up all the water he'd been forced to swallow while his tears from the pain mixed with the water running off him. He couldn't control the trembling in his limbs; he was frozen, every movement an agony that felt like he'd snap if he moved too quick. The only warmth offered to him so far had been from the two guards dragging his limp body from the freezer to this wet room.

He had no idea what was going on, he faintly remembered a soothing voice telling him to wait for him, to wait three days but with the blindfold and the four walls of the freezer, Kurt had no idea what day it was or how long he'd been in there. Gingerly, Kurt turned his head to the guards when the water didn't turn back on, the want to cry when he saw the hose had been put away almost too much to bare.

Two sets of large, burly hands pulled him up on weak legs which just slipped on the wet tiles leaving him to be dragged along towards the main door. With two guards ahead of them and one behind, they dragged Kurt down the corridor, still soaked to the bone and unable to right himself on his feet, through the farm and out into the open towards the manor.

The dawn air had a residual warmth to it which, when the wind hit Kurt, he held onto whatever he could, in desperate need to return any feeling to his frozen body. He thought about running, of knocking the guards out and running for the gates, but who was he kidding, he couldn't even hold himself up. Still being dragged, the guards lead him through the manor, up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. There, Kurt was pushed to his knees in front of someone he hadn't met before and Hunter, both stood by the dressing table, their words mumbled to Kurt's dazed state and water filled ears.

"How long do I have?"

"Another four hours until the auctions start but if you think the film's lifting just give him a small dosage from the pack I gave you."

"When do you need him?"

"All the auction pieces need to be in the holding room in one hour."

"Okay, I'll get him ready for you."

A hand gripped Kurt's chin and through the dizziness he received, Kurt just managed to focus on the face he wanted to rip off.

"Now be a good boy. I need you looking pretty for your big day."

With a pat on the head, Hunter left the room, the door locking behind him. Kurt forced his head to lull back and then to the side, trying to gauge the room he was in. The man from before was organising something on the desk while two guards stood by the door and something had been lain out on the bed. The only thing bringing Kurt any joy at the moment though was the warmth of the room, the heat prickling at his skin and allowing his stiff muscles to loosen ever so slowly. Kurt was ready to do anything if it meant he stayed in this room.

The man from before stepped over to Kurt and knelt down to his level, a comb lifted Kurt's head to greet the man.

"Now, I need to sort out your hair and put some colour in those cheeks of yours. Then we're going to get you dressed. Are you going to behave for me?"

"Yes, master." Kurt whispered an automated response.

"Good boy. Now, sit in the chair."

Kurt looked to where the man pointed with the comb and swallowed hard. There was no way he'd be able to walk that far, but he also didn't want to get into trouble. Leaning forward, Kurt pulled his body onto his hands and knees and with as much grace as he could muster, crawled towards the chair. He heard a happy grunt from the man and much to Kurt disgust, he found his body reacting excitedly to that little bit of praise.

With careful steps, Kurt forced his body towards the chair as fast as he could, not wanting to upset the man and be punished. Reaching up, he grasped the arm of the chair and agonisingly pulled his body up, using his toes to heave his body as far as he could. As his legs began to shake, two hands gripped his arms and helped him to sit in the chair.

"There you go." Came the comforting voice of the man.

Kurt kept his head low, clasping his hands in his lap, "I'm sorry, master."

"That's okay. Right, let's get you ready."

Kurt looked up into the mirror on the dressing table, his reflection giving him a fright; white eyes, surrounded by sunken black skin upon a white canvas with sharp cheekbones sat on a slim neck and exposed collarbones. He'd be covered in bruising and blood if it weren't for his seemingly uncontrollable ability to heal himself.

As the man ran his hands through Kurt's hair, followed by the comb, Kurt allowed himself to relax at the fangless, warm smile sent his way through the mirror.

Blaine handed over the keys of his car to the chauffer in front of the manor as Wes stepped out from the passenger side. Together they walked into the manor where they were shown into the first waiting room, where three other vampires sat. Each one greeted Blaine with a handshake, inquiring to his presence, to which Blaine lied, explaining he was here to oversee this particular auction.

Settling their interests, he joined Wes by the window seat, where a young human woman offered them an alcoholic drink. With the woman gone, Wes allowing himself to chuckle and shake his head in disbelief.

"Trust Hunter to starve us of blood to heighten our need to the blood we're about to buy." Wes shook his head again, sipping his drink.

"It works though. There are studies and everything." Blaine teased, trying to lightening his mood and failing.

The last three days had gifted him with less sleep than the days before, to the point where he didn't even try to sleep last night; too afraid of the lifeless eyes he'd dream of again, chained to that frozen chair while begging him for release. He had called in sick today, the lack of sleep and the frantic pace at which he and Wes had tried to get their reports together draining him of the energy he needed to even walk around his apartment.

Earlier, Wes had arrived at Blaine's apartment with a female human, to which Blaine greedily drank from with need and hunger and the knowledge that he'd need to be strong to get through tonight. He felt bad for the girl who had to be carried from the apartment when Blaine was finished with her, but he would see that her master was appropriately compensated.

Wes' paperwork on Kurt had gained ground, but the final checks would take another week, and time had caught up with him, but at least with those papers in order, they could look to work on Kurt's freedom once Blaine bought him tonight. Blaine intended to buy Kurt with his own funds and avoid the use of the taxpayers' money, because that would mean Blaine or Kurt having to pay back the full amount.

"What's my limit?" Blaine asked.

"Don't worry about it. Just keep going until you win, we'll figure out the rest later. Hopefully with all my work, Hunter will have to give back the money and everything will be just as it should." Wes reassured him, patting Blaine on the knee.

Hunter arrived at the door, knocking gently to get everyone's attention, "Gentlemen, the viewing gallery is open and I welcome you to come and join us. Don't worry, when your auction is about to start I will come to collect you."

The other three men walked ahead of Hunter, who waited for Blaine to approach, his eyes turning to Wes, "Wasn't expecting you here, Wesley."

"The Governor never travels alone on important business." Wes replied, his shoulders rolling back.

"Didn't get that paperwork sorted then, eh?"

The grin Hunter sported worried Blaine slightly, but let it slide as he led them through to the back room, where in the centre of room, cut off by iron railings was a decahedron shaped pit. The walls of the pit were covered in black one way mirrors with lamps attached in four of the corners, shining down on the ground where more lights shone through the glass floor. In the middle of the pit swayed a young woman dressed in a tiny red bikini, with long black hair. She looked around twenty years old and would have had her ovaries removed to prevent her from procreating outside of the farms.

Most women sold would be in their forties, after they were done birthing, but with the money Hunter needed to recuperate it seemed even the young females were up for sale this week. The buzzers were going off every few seconds to indicate a new bid, jolting the young girl who turned and stumbled around the pit, obviously drugged. The screen just above the hanging lights rolled over from twenty four thousand sects to twenty five thousand sects and again by another thousand as another buzzer went off.

Three out of eight red lights went out, indicating the pulling out of three of the bidders and as the price rose to thirty thousand, four others pulled out, leaving one lit and therefore the now proud owner of the girl. Blaine watched a guard walk through a hidden door, shrouded the girl in a black cloak and carried her away. She would be dressed with a new collar and leash before being handed over to her new vampire master, where she would most likely live out her life; it was only the lucky few who got a master who would eventually set them free.

A hand came down on his shoulder, "Your auction is in twenty minutes after the next boy, Blaine. You might as well follow me down."

Blaine nodded to Hunter and followed him back through the manor and down into the basement, Wes following just behind. He wasn't sure what he was about to see when he was down in the pit, the last time he'd seen Kurt, he'd looked terrible. This was completely different; here Kurt would be on sale to highest bidder so he would have to look his best. Blaine's heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Kurt, wondering if he'd have any of that light in his eyes again.

Kurt couldn't stop looking at his reflection in the full length mirror situated on the back of the door that would lead him out of this room and to his fate. After spending around an hour with the man from before, he was lead to this waiting room where he and five others sat, wrists and ankles chained, waiting to be called out. But Kurt had little time for the other five in the room with him, what caught him was his reflection.

He looked, normal, better than normal, he hadn't looked this good since... he couldn't remember... skin pale with a gentle glow and a slight hue in his cheeks. Lips plump and pink surrounded by a sculpted face and coiffed chestnut brown, washed hair. He was dressed in just a pair of teal blue shorts with white belt, but considering he'd been naked for most of his stay here, he felt almost over dressed.

The only thing out of place was his stark white eyes and he couldn't stop staring at them. He was aware he was half pixie, but now, looking into that mirror, he was afraid of what this world was forcing him to uncover.

All heads turn to the door as they hear the bolt turning and the latch releasing, their backs straightening, hands in their laps and heads lowered, even Kurt followed their lead. After watching the young girl before them being electrocuted for her poor posture, everyone made sure to put on their best performance, plus no one wanted to have a burn mark or a bruise on their skin; no one would buy a damaged human and if you didn't sell, it would be the torture rooms for you.

Two guards entered the room, the one remaining by the door while the other unlocked a young boy's chains from the floor and while grabbing the chains between his wrists, pulled the boy forward to let the other guard wrap a long black cape around his body and over his blonde hair. With a shove, the boy left the room, his chains clanging around him with the two guards either side of him and once again the door was bolted shut, leaving the remaining four in the dark room with just a tiny barred window.

From the room, Kurt could just hear Hunter's voice being echoed through the speakers, describing the boy, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is our third auction of the day and also our youngest human of the night. Fourteen years old, straight blonde hair, lovely olive toned skin and handsome features. Weighing in at forty kilos, he is at the peak of fitness with O negative blood. He's a good cook and good with maths and speaks two languages. Shall we start the bidding at, 500 sects?"

Nothing about the boy's name, his hobbies or his family, just straight facts like selling cattle with a starting price that would match a small calf. Kurt jolted as the buzzers began in earnest; they couldn't hear what the price was rising to, just the incessant buzzing as the vampires fought over the little boy. But it didn't last long and soon enough the last of the buzzers sounded and the countdown started. Three. Two. One.

"Okay, boy #5372 goes to auctioneer #13." Sounded Hunter's voice, "Next auction will commence in ten minutes."

Kurt's stomach turned; they had been placed in order of appearance and he was next. His stomach twisted and his limbs shook and for once, he hoped that he would be topped up on the drugs, just to relax his body and blur his mind from the repugnant auction he was about to be thrown into. He swallowed hard as the door unlocked once more.

Hunter ushered Blaine and Wes into a small darkened room with two large leather chairs and a small glass table, two large alcoholic drinks already resting there. The walls were padded with black leather with a red carpet under their feet, while spot lights from above gave them a gentle light but not too much to wash out the view through the window ahead of the chairs through to the pit where the auction would begin.

On the arm of one of the chairs was a small keypad to enter a bid with a small screen above to show the current high bid. Wes pats Blaine on the shoulder before disappearing out of the room. Blaine takes his seat leaning his head on his hand, staring out into the pit. He felt sick, just the idea of bidding on a human as they're displayed before them like a piece of meat made him want to abandon the contents of his stomach.

But in the same breath, he'd have Kurt out of this building within the hour, away from this hell and he'd never have to deal with this side of the business again, or at least until he could wipe it out. Humans shouldn't be bought and kept chained up in a corner at the whim of a vampire, it should be an agreement; blood for protection, blood for money or blood for shelter. Blaine shook his head, he'd fought this corner before, and even though he got freed humans an agreement of this kind, no one would listen to him when it came to the bred humans from these farms.

He thought about what he'd do when he got Kurt out of here. How would he cope having him in his apartment while he recovered? Should he have him in his apartment while he recovered? But then where would he go? He'd thought about Nick, but Jeff was more than often over at his place and Nick was also busy performing, so it wasn't ideal, plus it would be wrong of Blaine to dump Kurt on him. No, Kurt would be staying with him... he'd just have to order in more blood than normal in order to keep his fangs to himself.

Wes returned, taking the seat next to Blaine and shuffling around to get himself comfortable, "What a load of rich bastards." He grumbled.

Blaine took in the fang digging into his friend's lip and the narrowed eyes teamed with the creased brow, "Who's in?"

Wes sighed, taking his drink and downing it, "You have a couple of bosses from the banks, the chief of police, a couple of club owners, Mayor George and some scumbag from the red district. I think you'll need to dig into the pot."

Blaine nodded with a heavy sigh, "This is going to hurt."

"Just, don't think about the money, just think about outbidding all these jackasses and winning. We'll deal with the money down the road. If we're lucky we can just get it back once we serve Hunter his rites."

"Right..." Blaine began to tap his fingers on the fine leather of the chair.

"Nervous?"

"Very."

The lights flashed above their head, indicating the auction would begin in five minutes. Wes picked up Blaine's drink and nudged his arm with it, smiling ever so slightly when Blaine got the hint and chucked back the drink in one gulp. He needed to calm down and relax, stressing and throwing silly bids in wouldn't do him or Kurt any good.

The guard yanked Kurt up from his seat by the chains holding his wrists together and dragged him out of the room, the chains on his ankles preventing him from holding himself up and keeping in step with the guards. He stumbles, falling hard on his ankle and he's sure he's strained it, but the guards just continue to drag him along until they reach another room, tossing Kurt within and locking the door behind them.

Kurt tries to push himself onto his feet but the chains prevent him, forcing him back to the floor and increasing the searing pain in his ankle. The guard grabs the chains again and pulls Kurt to his feet while bearing long fangs at him. Kurt shrinks away, lowering his head and curving his spine to become as small as he could while standing.

"Heal your ankle, fairy." Grunted the larger of the guards.

Kurt bit his lip to stopping himself from reminding the guard that he couldn't do that not wanting to risk another beating so close to his auction; if he was going to be sold, he didn't want to miss out on a potentially good home because of a bruise.

"Inject him first. He heals better when he's off his head." Chuckled the second guard.

The hue on Kurt's cheeks was no longer due to the blusher that had been applied but due to his embarrassment as the guards made fun of him. Hands grab at his arms and force his body back against the one guard who holds him still, while the other pulls out a needle from its sterilised pack and jams it into Kurt's thigh. But he doesn't make a sound, instead he closes his eyes and waits for the drug to take away any feeling he may have left in his body, any anxiety he was feeling and allowed himself to fall into the hypnotic state.

He can tell by the now muffled voices of the guards that his ankle is healed, that he's standing tall and strong on his feet and that his body is moving toward the experimental touches the guards swipe across his arms, back and neck. He feels fangs drag across his neck and he can't help the needy moan and gasp of air he releases while leaning back on the guard and tilting his head to give him better access.

A muffled voice from the other guard has the other moving away while Kurt whines and tries to reach out for those fangs, which causes a chorus of laughter around him. Running his hands over his head, Kurt moans, closing his eyes to the world and just relaxes, let's go to the glorious rush he's embracing. A black cloak is draped over his shoulders and the hood is thrown over his head, but Kurt just smiles, enjoying the warmth the thin material grants him; it's the warmest he's been in a while.

Hands push Kurt forward to another door and through to blinding lights. Kurt lowers his head to avoid the bright lights above him as he looks around. This room is strange, instead of four walls there are multiple, all lined with black glass reflecting his image at different angles. He stumbles on his feet as the drug makes it harder to hold still and sends him into a dizzying spell while the light from above him and below the glass floor blind him.

He's not sure where his feet are taking him as he stumbles around the pit, hands reaching out for stability, only to find his reflection staring back at him then stumbling back into the centre of the pit. He can hear something above him, a chorus of muffled voices but he's too caught up in the serene dizziness he's forced into.

A large hand grips the cloak on top of his head and pulls back.

The lights flashed within the pit, drawing Blaine's and Wes' attention to the inner ring, nerves tense and bodies sat rigid. Blaine had sunk his fangs into his lip far too many times in the last few minutes, while his nails tore through the leather on the arm of his chair despite Wes' constant pleas for Blaine to stop. Though from Blaine's view, Wes wasn't coping much better himself; he hair was a mess from how often he'd run his hands through it, his skin was pale with how hard he was running his body and he was finding it difficult to retract his fangs.

The door on the far end of the pit opened up and in walked a caped figure with two guards either side of him, ankles cuffed and just visible wrists cuffed. The cape covered most of his body but Blaine could still make out his pale skin from his calves down to his fidgeting feet. There were whistles and calls from above the pit to try and get the boy's attention but he couldn't hear them.

The boy swayed from side to side, his balance off as the lights shone down on him, blinding the boy who hid behind his hood. He was heavily drugged, Blaine could tell; most humans who were drugged swayed, but the boy in front of him couldn't stay steady on his two feet, tripping over his toes and stumbling from side to side. At one point falling against the glass of one of the other bidders, pale hands coming out to stop him, only to then sway his head from side to side, inspecting his face in the glass as if surprised by his own reflection.

Pushing away, Blaine watched him stumble into the centre of the pit again as one of the guards stepped forward to grab at his arm. His other hand reached up and pulled away the hood.

Kurt's head was forced back, the cloak's clasp snapped open as the guard pulled the material away from his body. Stumbling on his feet, Kurt pulls his hands to his eyes while they adjust to the lights, only to have them slapped away by the guard who steps forward. There are cheers and laughter from above him but it all merges into a hum of nonsense in Kurt's ears, while all he sees ahead of him is white light with countless red dots and shiny black glass. His head can't process it and all he wants to do is hold his head and sink to the ground but knows he'll be punished if he does that, so instead he throws his head back to the skies – the only way to keep his head up – and stumbles on his feet as he walks in slow, little circles.

A high pitch whine has Kurt closing his eyes until a voice he knows but can't understand sounds all around him.

"... gentlemen... .... coming... .... boy #154.... .... John ...."

'John'... that was what Hunter called him, and what some of his other masters called him, but he didn't like it. Kurt allowed himself a smile as he remembered the name those hazel eyes called him, 'Kurt'. He liked that name.

".... pixie... ..."

Kurt tilted his head in confusion, he thought he was half pixie, half human. What was Hunter talking about? A gasp passed through Kurt's lips when a blade sliced across his thigh. He shuffled away and turned to the guard with the bloodied dagger in his hand, but as Kurt forced his head down to the wound, it was no longer there. Kurt groaned, his eyes spanning around the small space he was in, trying to find the muffled voice while the laughter from the guard now licking the blood from the blade had him scurrying to the far side then back into the centre as the other guard cracked a whip at his feet.

"... feisty... .... beautiful ... ... creature... ... much fun..."

What was he saying? What did all these words mean? Kurt bit his lower lip to try and focus but a chorus of whistles muddled his mind and had him groaning for something to centre himself.

"start... ... commission ... ... 150,000 ..."

A buzzer caused Kurt to jump and turn to the offending sound, and again to another on the other side.

"170,000"

What were these numbers? Why was he here? Kurt felt so lost, why was the drug doing this to him? He'd never felt so lost before. He was feeling faint. He gasped and jumped when the buzzing came from behind him again.

"... sects."

Money? Were all those numbers, money? Kurt's mind focused for a moment, payment... bids... these numbers were bids on him. Kurt searched around trying to find his bidders, to see who was bidding on him, to see who he'd be sold to but all he could see was a wash of black, red and white.

"250,000... who... win... gorgeous"

Kurt wants to see those hazel eyes behind the glass, like he'd promised. Kurt wanted to see him again, wanted him to win and wanted to go home with him. He was a good man, he was kind to Kurt and Kurt knew he'd help him to clear this fog from his mind.

"300,000."

A roar above him at that bid followed by a round of applause and encouragement made Kurt wonder if that was the hazel eyed man's bid. Kurt took some long breaths to focus his mind on the glass around him, to see if he could see through the glass, but all he got was his own reflection and his own white filmed eyes staring back at him.

"350,000."

Another buzz went off and Kurt looked around to notice that the red lights from before were disappearing and going off one after the other.

"... two... left... 370,000... any more... 380,000."

Kurt walked over to the glass with one of the red lights above it and pressed his finger tips to the glass, rocking his head from side to side, following his reflection but also trying to see through the black glass.

" .... he likes... bid... 390,000."

A glint of light passed through Kurt's eyes but the shock of the action only resulted in Kurt pushing away from the glass and back into the centre of the room. He had seen something, something through the glass, but it went too quickly for his hazy mind to process it. He had wanted to see hazel eyes and maybe he did, but was that just his dream crossing with his reality?

"Going once... .... twice .... more... ... SOLD"

The lights went out, plunging Kurt in darkness and the cloak is put back over his head before he's ushered out and back into the room before. This was it, someone had bought Kurt, and he was about to meet the winning vampire. Kurt could only hope that it was those hazel eyes that had promised so much.

Blaine is on his feet as soon as the cloak is removed. That isn't Kurt. Bleary green eyes and blonde brushed back hair stare back at him, mocking him from the centre of the pit. That isn't Kurt. The boy stumbles around the pit, obviously overdosed on the drug and trips on his feet, falling to the floor, his pale hands catching him. That isn't Kurt.

Blaine's fangs were on full display, slipping past his lower lips while his pupils dilated across his hazel irises and his body tightened, each muscle contracting and expanding to take on the vamparic strength he was to unleash onto just one person.

Wes was at his side, his own eyes black and fangs hanging long, pressing a strong hand into Blaine's shoulder to gain his attention.

"Blaine, calm-"

Blaine sneered and growled at Wes pushing him away, watching with little guilt as Wes catches himself on the opposite wall.

"That's not Kurt!" Blaine growled, pointing a finger at the young boy back on his feet and staring up at the lighting where Hunter's voice was echoing.

"I know, but we've got to do this right." Wes tried to argue.

"Fuck that!" Blaine spat, lost to his vampire instincts, "I'm done playing by the rules."

"Blaine, you're not your father!"

Wes called after him but it was no use, with Blaine's speed he was gone before Wes could speak his name, but Wes was quick to follow the trail of Blaine's scent and energy. Wes ran passed the waitress now trying to clear up the shattered drinking glasses on the ground, passed the guard now nursing the long claw like marks across his chest and up the stairs passed the two congressmen who seemed to have been pushed down those stairs.

Following Blaine's path of destruction, Wes halted at the broken door way, where lay the once put together intercom system, now just a tatter of wire and plastic across the red sodden cream carpet with sheets of paper fluttering through the room. Hunter lay on the carpet, clutching his arm where angry red teeth marks sliced down from his elbow to his wrist with Blaine standing over him, a firm foot pressed into his leg and blood coating his fangs, lips and chin.

"Blaine, don't!"

A cry from Hunter was sent around the upper floor of the manor when Blaine pressed down on that leg, snapping it like a twig, all the time those black eyes gazing down on his prey with predatory glee. Hunter's own fangs had fallen back in his defeat but Blaine was relentless, twisting his foot into the already broken bones, a slight twitch in his lips telling Wes he was almost enjoying this.

"Blaine! Enough!" Wes snapped, using his speed to knock Blaine away from Hunter, hissing at his friend with extended fangs when he dared to advance. Wes turned to Hunter with narrowed eyes, "Where's Kurt?"

"Who?"

Wes was the one to kick into Hunter's broken leg this time, "You know who I'm talking about, don't play dumb! The pixie was supposed to be down there! Blaine paid to bid on the pixie, where is he?!"

Hunter shook his head, daring to smirk and chuckle at the pair, Wes' hand was up and pushing the growling Blaine away in an instant, "Blaine paid to sit on John Smith's auction. That boy down there, is John Smith, blood bag #345. The paperwork's in my drawer."

Blaine was there, yanking the drawer out, pulling out the paperwork and throwing the offending wood at Hunter which broke on impact with his out stretched arm. It was when Blaine was about to tear the papers to shreds that Wes took them from him, scanning the pages with increased anger, both for Hunter for tricking Blaine to come to a second John Smith's auction and for Blaine for not checking the paperwork correctly.

"You see, everything's as it should be." Hunter huffed, trying to sit up as best his could, snapping his leg into position as he felt the bone trying to heal itself.

"You knew I wanted the pixie, Hunter!" Wes was holding back Blaine now, the smell of blood on his friend's lips only faltering Wes' reserves slightly.

"Too bad." Hunter taunted.

"Hunter!" Wes hissed, "Where's Kurt Hummel? I know what you did, I have the evidence to prove it and when I have my report completed I will take you down... unless... you tell me where he is." Wes didn't want to use this card, he wanted to take Hunter down either way, but Blaine was becoming impossible to hold back.

"I sold him."

"What?"

Wes couldn't hold him this time, instead all he could do was watch his friend fist his hands into Hunter's jacket and lift the bulky male up against the glass which over looked the pit and viewing balcony, the glass shattering behind him leaving him hanging over the edge.

"This height won't kill me, Blaine." Hunter spoke with a quiver after looking down towards his potential fate.

"I don't want it to kill you." Blaine enforced, pushing Hunter's body further out the window, "Who did you sell him to?"

"When did you sell him?" Wes added, taking up a spot next to Blaine.

"Yesterday." Hunter spoke, "To a blood trader."

Panic. Blaine's body was overwhelmed with a sense of panic to the point where he almost dropped Hunter then and there, Wes' hand on his back the only thing holding him in the present. If Hunter had sold him to a blood trader Kurt could already be outside the city walls or already sold on to anyone the trader dealt with and they too could be from outside the city. Blaine slowly crawled onto the window ledge, holding out his arm to force Hunter to hang over the drop which would see him paralysed for weeks; vampire's were good at healing but not this good.

"I need a name, Hunter." Blaine ordered, his grip on Hunter's shirt loosening.

"Adam Crawford."

A collar locked around Kurt's neck as soon as he left the pit, followed by a leash locking into the loop on the collar. The cuffs were removed from around his wrists and ankles then with a tug on the new leash, Kurt was pulled through the manor and to the main doors. Kurt was still dizzy, the new scenery not helping him to gain a hold on his surroundings and to stop his head from spinning. He had been sold and he was about to meet the man or woman who just bought him.

The cold air that hit him did nothing to clear his mind but just reminded him of how little he was wearing, but he didn't want to try to cover himself up; he didn't know if the guards would still punish him or what his new master would do if he saw him like that. Kurt could see what looked like the gates he'd tried to escape from before not a few metres away, but he knew if he tried to move, he'd end up toppling over; nothing was holding still.

A long black car pulls up in front of the manor and Kurt's instincts are to duck his head and keep his eyes on the ground. He doesn't dare to look up, not even when a set of black shoes approach and muffled voices speak above him, not even when the leash is handed to a pair of tanned hands and he's tugged towards the door does Kurt look up.

He saw those tanned hands before, were those the one's that belonged to the hazel eyed guy? He had seen them before but he didn't remember, couldn't remember who they belonged to and the voices were too muffled to distinguish.

The back door opens and Kurt shuffles inside, keeping his back straight against the back seat, his hands in his lap and his head down. The leather is warm and there's a glass of water in the cup holder on the door, but Kurt doesn't touch it. The driver's door shuts close and the engine comes to life just as the door on the other side of Kurt opens and a large figure steps in and sits next to him.

The car is silent as it heads away from the manor and through the gates Kurt had dreamed of escaping into a deep dark forest. Kurt could tell the man next to him was staring at him, examining him and he made sure to hold himself properly whilst praying to greet those hazel eyes once he was allowed to look up.

A hand came round to cup his chin and with ease Kurt allowed that hand to turn his face up and towards the figure next him. His heart sunk when he met not hazel but blue eyes and a charming smile he recognised from many of the nights he was forced to give blood and pleasure his masters. He swallowed hard as the man he only knew as 'master' licked his fangs and lips whilst the hand on his chin moved to stroke his cheeks and his neck, squeezing only gently to get a squeak of a moan from Kurt; a moan Kurt knew he was after, Kurt remembered this master liked his voice.

The touches continued across his cheeks, his neck and his chest, all of which had Kurt leaning into the touch, wanting more and stopping the tears from falling at the knowledge that those promises to him hadn't been kept. A smile had Kurt crawling into the open arms of his master and tilting his neck to let the man kiss and lick at his skin. Kurt moaned, partly from the touch igniting the draw of the drug within him and the knowledge that his master would be pleased with him for making those noises.

The hands on his thighs make Kurt shiver as that accented voice spoke to him, "You cost me a lot of money tonight, tiger." Yes, Kurt remember that nickname, this master always called him 'tiger'... he preferred, 'Kurt'.

"I'm sorry, master." Kurt whispered, arching his neck further for him.

"Don't worry," Fangs dragged across his skin, his cheeks burning as his body sang with joy for what was about to come, "I'll get my money back with you."

Fangs sunk deep into Kurt's neck and he couldn't help but grip to the body he sat in the lap of, moaning and crying with pleasure as the vampire rocked him into every gulp of blood. Kurt didn't know what was going to happen now, he didn't feel safe with this master like he did the one who promised him so much, but he would need to please this master to get the best future he could hope for and just that thought brought tears to Kurt's eyes, but the drug wouldn't let them fall, instead turning his sorrow into pleasure and need.