<span style="font-style: italic">â€œIf you are willing to say your life is worth nothing. Then why havenâ€™t you run to the people that put the bounty on your head and have them kill you?"</span><br/><br/>She tensed, sputtering slightly as her air was cut off, twitching but resisting the almost overwhelming urge for self-defense.  â€œOhâ€¦theyâ€™re deadâ€¦alrightâ€¦â€ she said, struggling to talk.  â€œBut notâ€¦by myâ€¦hand.â€  Vanessa slumped to the floor when he let go, returning to his place by the door fast enough that he might have teleported.<span style="font-style: italic">Heâ€™s fast.</span>she thought, desperately fighting to get control of her panic.  If she could smell it on herself, she knew he must have.  She was scared, and he knew it.  Vanessa allowed herself to flood with anger, angry more with herself than anything else, but HE didnâ€™t have to know THAT.  She had no real desire to die. Once was enough.<br/><br/>She took a few stuttering breaths, rubbing her throat ruefully.  Vampires didnâ€™t really /need/ to breathe, but it WAS required to talk, and Vanessa had never gotten used to that suffocating feeling not breathing brought.  â€œI might be sick of running, but Iâ€™m not going to make it EASY for them.  It used to be fun to frustrate them.  Anyway, whatâ€™s it to you if I did it or not?â€