She's never had someone kiss her like this, with no fear that she's a breakable, fragile thing, and letting her give while taking what she's offering. And, oh, how he takes, bending down and grabbing her thighs. Wet warmth seeps through her jeans from his bleeding hand; it should worry her about his injuries, but then he's lifting, and with her feet no longer firmly on the ground, she's too dizzy to think rationally.

She's never thought herself a particularly small girl, tall and with weight in the right places, but as Kane carries her with little effort and drops her atop the wooden crates, never breaking their kiss, it makes her feel all kinds of things she's never felt; all of them leave her ravenous with one whimpered word on repeat in her delirious mind.

Apparently, it's not just her; Kane's fingers are just as hungry, scrambling to unfasten the button on her jeans. Her fingers find his belt, and the clanging of metal as she tugs it open makes her whole body shudder.

And then it all stops. 

Kane breaks their kiss to lay his forehead against her shoulder, and their ragged pants in tandem fill the deathly quiet of the warehouse.

It's silent for a long time. When her breathing returns to normal, Kane's remains fast and quick.

Hannah embraces him slowly, as one does when they're trying to hug an unpredictable grizzly, draping  her arms over his upper back.

Kane hums against her shoulder, throaty, and she can hear the twinge of a question in it.

She runs a palm up the nape of his neck, a sticky warmth meeting her touch, and with an assessing touch, presses her against the back of his head, through his wet hair. He's bleeding.

"You're hurt."

Kane snorts. He pulls sharply away from the embrace, leaving Hannah feeling absurdly cold, and stumbles back a few steps, putting space between them, just like with the dead vampire, but this time he's not smiling; he's regarding her with a deep frown. "Come on, let's get back to the car. We're wasting time."

He turns away with colour on his cheeks and refastens his belt.

Hannah sighs at Kane's slight waver in his gait as he stomps off. It's becoming glaringly obvious that Kane will have to be on his literal deathbed to admit that he's hurt.

She slides the button of her jeans back in place and hops off the crate, making sure to never let her eyes wander to the carnage that stains the dirty concrete floor.

They leave the blood-covered warehouse and walk into the falling rain. She sticks close to Kane's side, just in case there's another vampire laying in wait outside. No fiends jump out at them from the darkness as they make their way to the shadowed vehicle at the end of the empty parking lot. Kane stumbles a few times. Hannah stops trying to help after her touch is shoved off aggressively, instead shaking her head and rolling her eyes for being forced to witness such sheer stubbornness.

Hannah swallows. "That girl back there..."

"There's nothing we can do; she's already dead," Kane says coldly.

Hannah slows her pace as they reach the car, the falling rain soaking her hair. "Won't leaving the bodies raise questions?"

Kane's voice is hoarse. "I'll use a burner to make an anonymous call to the Bureau. They'll do all the work of cleaning it up. Won't even look into it for long either. They'll be happy their work's been taken care of. I should be getting a salary at this point." He touches the back of his head and scoffs at the blood staining his fingers as if it's personally offended him for daring to bleed.

"Let me take a look at your head."

"No. I'm fine." Kane turns and opens the driver's side door, sliding inside with a slam of his door. She sees him, through the rain-slickened windshield, toss his blade onto the backseat.

Hannah follows and plops her wet behind atop the passenger seat, clicking the door shut. She licks her dry lips as she drags the seatbelt over her chest and locks it. "So, where to? The hospital?"

Kane's eyes widen, and then he's laughing, bowing forward while covering his face with a palm. It's a bit breathless, but a genuine sound all the same. It makes her feel awed, as if she's witnessing something precious, and she's quickly becoming addicted to the thought of making him do it again. He rubs at his watering eyes.

Once he catches his breath, Kane looks at her from under dark lashes, his green gaze suddenly breathtakingly fond, and memories of their kiss still aching her lips rush back with such heated intensity she's surprised the vehicle doesn't go up in flames. He reaches out with a bent finger and gently taps the bottom of her chin.

And that's it, and then he's looking away.

It's not a gesture Hannah's ever been privy to; it's strange, leaving her reeling.

She watches as Kane leans back, sticks the key in the ignition, and the car hums to life around them.

Hannah's suddenly suffering a warmth in her chest she can't seem to contain, smiling widely and gripping her fingers, because if she doesn't, she's not going to be able to stop herself from reaching out. Kane might bite her fingers off if she tries; he's already back to wearing his cold expression as he grips the steering wheel and guides the car out of the lot.

"No detours. I don't like the way that asshole kept saying we. Fucking hell, maybe he'd been trying to get a rise out of me by dropping Reid's name. Probably was. Worked, didn't it?" Kane's voice is so raspy that it hurts her own throat to hear it. He grits his teeth, fingers on the steering wheel flexing, and wipes at a trail of blood that's begun to trickle down his temple. "I'm not taking any chances, not when that lone vampire was tough as nails. It'll be faster to just go straight home." The car drives over a speed bump. "We'll call Reid on the way."

Hannah swallows. "Is that usual? Getting beat to hell?"

"No," Kane grinds through his teeth. He laughs dryly. "Lucky you, first time out, and you met one of the old ones. Almost had me with his entrancemant. He'd have to be clocking in at two hundred. I haven't met one over one-fifty that could get in my head like that."

"I felt it," Hannah says with a shiver, recalling the tortuous feeling. "It was horrible. I couldn't breath. I've never felt helpless like that before."

Kane glances at her quickly. "You made it; you broke through it. Beat that bastard." He looks back at the road with a smirk. "Hannah, what you did is badass. I've never met someone who could break through an entrancment that's already taken over. It takes years of mental conditioning to learn to defend against a vampire. You did fucking amazing."

"Yeah whatever." Hannah snorts, her cheeks hot. She's uncomfortable with the praise. "I saved your ass, didn't I?"

"You did," Kane says seriously. His gaze remains on the road ahead as he guides the car through an opening in the chain-link fence surrounding the pier. "When that fucker bit me, I was done for. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be facing a fate worse than death right now. He sure enjoyed gloating about his plans, the creep."

"How does it feel? To be bitten?"

Kane swallows. It's audible above the humming of the vehicle. He takes a while to answer, and when he does, his throat bobs with each word as if they're physically painful for him to utter, "Really, really good. That's what makes it so dangerous." He turns his gaze away from the road to glare at her, his green eyes sharp, the air suddenly tense. "Never let a vampire get their fangs in you. It's death. Okay? I only got away tonight because you didn't hesitate on that trigger."

Hannah nods warily. "Yeah."

Kane slowly looks back at the road. She's not sure, but she thinks Kane might be shaken from the ordeal or slipping into shock, hopefully mild, as he periodically wipes his forehead with the back of his fingers, and she doesn't miss the tremor in his hand. Either way, he'll never admit he's not one hundred percent; she's sure of it. So stubborn.

"So," Hannah says as the tyres of the car crunch against the gravel road they'd entered hours ago. She knows Kane's listening intently because his fingers tighten their grip on the steering wheel. "Is that how you and Reid end every night?"

Kane's expression pinches, blinking rapidly past the swooshing of the windshield wipers, combating the droplets of falling rain that batter the vehicle. He's trying to stop his smile, but she can see his mouth twitching, and the telltale way his teeth gnaw against his bottom lip, uncaring of the nasty red gash he's surely rousing that must be the culprit for why she'd tasted blood in their kiss.

Hannah grins so wide that it aches her cheeks. "What is it? Is he a better kisser than me?" She laughs softly and leans forward, trying for a conspiratorial tone. "It's okay. You can tell me. I won't be offended."

Kane's tongue presses against his inner cheek. "Maybe."

"You fuc-" Hannah slaps his shoulder, and she squawks at the hard pinch on her inner thigh. It's a precise place to cause pain, and it's clearly practised. She has no qualms about sticking her hand under his jacket and tickling his side.

Hannah snickers evilly when Kane jerks away from her touch with a sharp breath and a faint laugh. "No more saying, maybe. It's unfair."

"Fine," Kane says with a faint smile, keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other gripping her fingers beneath his jacket to stop her from tickling him further. He doesn't let go of her hand, even after it's gone limp, and now they're simply touching.

Hannah flattens her palm against his warm chest above the soft material of his shirt. Kane keeps her wrist gripped so tightly that it's impossible to dare slip her fingers into his, like she yearns to do, so instead, she touches. His heart is beating rapidly.

She whispers softer than the rain pattering against the windows. "Do you want to kiss again? Sometime?"

Kane's grip on her wrist gentles, and his whisper rasps his voice further: "Maybe."

Hannah curses and smacks him in the shoulder with her free hand, gentler than he deserves. And Kane's eyes remain on the rain-slickened windshield, and he lets her have her revenge without retaliating with another pinch, only giving an amused snort.

It's silent, and then he drags her wrist up to the curve of his neck, and he must be trying to kill her, a murder of the cruellest kind, because he rests his chin on the back of her hand, his green eyes never wavering from the road, but she knows with an ache in her heart that his attention is solely on her.

Even with the blood-covered sword staining the backseat, their clothing soaked with rainwater, and the lingering smell of gunpowder and death clinging to their skin, for a moment, it's easy to pretend the darkness staining the world can be defeated by something this simple, with shared smiles of warmth and a gentle touch.