The wheezy chuckle sounded again, and then a deep masculine voice, smooth and cultured... one could almost see the expensively well-appointed drawing room and velvet smoking gown if it wasn't for the odd situation of the voice coming from a pretty woman in her mid twenties. Let alone her painful position.<br/>"No no, Daniel. The traditions must be observed. Bell, book, candle... you know the routine. Or you could give up now. She's mine, and I will<em>not</em>surrender her."<br/>The tone became more firm with each word, the final sentence having the ringing certanity of a steel door.