Disclaimer:

If you haven't read the disclaimers in the prologue and part 1 ... then continue at your own peril.

Ugh okay. Warning—damn it!: Intense scene between Miranda and Andy ahead.

Thanking my beta, Kerri-Ann, whose been very helpful with characterization. Sorry running behind on posting. I'm still negotiating a beta for grammar, punct and such. All mistakes are definitely mine.

... and frankly, your rhetoric sucks

Andy whipped around, her vision tunneling, sharp and narrowed with singular focus.

And all she could see in that moment was everything the woman across the room seemed to represent with her cruel taunts. Andy's desolation, fear and rage. There was a burning inside which promised the pain and the fear would be eased if she would just... And there was Miranda, blue eyes calculating and challenging, unafraid. Unaffected

"What's the matter, Andrea?" Taunting and amused, that tone of voice was like glass cutting into Andy's brain. Goading her. She needed to leave. Something ... something bad was coming. She could not move. "I thought you were leaving." The journalist trembled.

Andy wanted to ... No! She fought for control of that thing writhing inside of her. No! Andy's heart thumped so fast that were it not for its harsh pounding a humming bird might have taken residence in her chest. Her fingers curled until the tightness of fists saw them numbing.

Miranda's calculating glare twisted into a callous smirk.

Andy dropped her gaze to the floor, breathing fast and hard. "You shouldn't ..." she tried to warn.

"Still got a little whine left in you, after all? Shall I pull up a chair for an encore performance of Andrea Falls Apart Again?"

Andy looked up with whiplash speed and suddenly she was airborne.

Canines extended, she had leaped—had she been in her right mind she would have been astonished at the distance she'd covered. Hands clapping down on Miranda's shoulders, she landed with barely a whisper of sound and shoved the woman back against the wall. The glass tumblers thudded onto the carpet.

Fury gave rise to gnawing hunger as Andy's gaze latched onto the woman's throat. That pale throat promised it was the softest of flesh. But the beating pulse there was slow. Steady. It froze her, made the thing inside hesitate as though confused. There was no struggle from Miranda to free herself. No stiffening of limbs preparing for the fight or flight. And the older woman's heart beat a rhythm much saner than Andy's own.

Horror mounted at what she'd almost done, what she had done. This is not me. She'd assaulted Miranda. This is not who I am. The urge to rip out the woman's throat left her shaken as she held Miranda's shoulders in bruising grips.

"It's always there, Andrea" Miranda whispered, unafraid. "Wanting out." Andy's wild eyes met curious but calm blue. "Wanting to taste fear. Wanting to spend rage." She felt like the room around her was twirling madly. "Wanting. Forever wanting." The fashionista's voice had dropped in octaves and was even softer than usual, like a whisper in the ear. Andy swayed at the near seductive quality.

"What's hap..." Her grip on Miranda tightened. The hunger twisted within her, changing becoming sharper and she was burning up inside. "Oh god." The scent of jasmine and neroli was now all around her. "I can't..." She shook her head attempting to clear the fog enveloping it. Something tugged at her. "What is ..."

"Yes," Miranda purred. Their faces were so close she could feel the warmth of Miranda's breath on her lips. "That wild hungry thing you feel inside of you right now..." Andy took deep, harsh breaths. "...It will always be there. It will always crave ... many, many things." They stared at one another until Andy shoved away from the older woman tumbling backwards, pale. Beads of sweat formed above her top lip.

"You don't ..."

 "It's a predator, violent. Blood thirsty."

"Stop it." Andy back away reaching behind her blindly for the doorway.

"No matter where you go, no one will be safe."

"Shut up!" she wailed and spun around. She made it to the door frame.

"You think you won't lose control again?" Miranda's voice followed her. Andy stumbled down the stairs. Heart pounding erratically. "And Christian's waiting for you. Where will you go, Andrea? Your apartment? He's probably watching it. Your family?"

"Don't." She froze but didn't look back, knowing the woman stood at the top of the stairs.

"You think he won't. He turned your friends, your lover. He had them violate you, turn you into this ... You think he won't hunt you all the way to Cincinnati," Miranda spat. "You think he won't hesitate to use your family ..."

Andy whipped around, eyes blazing. "Then I'll find him ... and ..."

"You?" Miranda scoffed. "You'll what?" Miranda descended slowly. The whisper of her nightgown, almost hypnotic. "Kill him?" Her smile was cruel and skeptical. "What will you do?"

"I'll..." Andy lowered her gaze, eyes drifting over the way the blue fabric clung to the woman's frame.

"Beg him to leave you alone?" The callous tone cut through that admiration, reminding Andy who she was dealing with and that those soft curves belong to a woman who was nothing but jagged edges, and sharp glass. "To not hurt your mommy and daddy." Miranda laughed. "Or maybe you'll go to the police?"

"Do you really hate me that much?" Andy didn't expect an answer. It was pretty obvious. Andy lifted her head. "Are you done?" Her heart was aching, tears stung her eyes. "Do you feel sufficiently paid back for Paris?"

"You ran to me." Miranda reminded coldly.

"Lesson learned," Andy whispered. "It won't happen again." She choked back a sob turned and reached for the front door. Her hand made contact with the knob. She'd barely pulled the door open when she was slammed against its solid surface, a body pressed against her back as two arms darted around her shoulders, elegant hands slammed the door closed.

"Goddamn you, Andrea. How dare you come to ... and now..."

Andy's breathing quickened. Fear.

"All you do is run away." Miranda voice was hoarse and rough against her ear. "I'd have given you anything, everything." Andy felt shock ripple through her as her cheek was pressed against the cool door. "I trusted you." Her heart was pounding so hard it roared. "I needed you, Andrea." Miranda trembled against her. "I turned around and you were gone. I called you..." Miranda grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Andy jerked back, her head bumping the door. Blue eyes glittered at her with inhuman luminescence.

"You ... you're like him." Andy regretted the words the moment they slipped from her lips.

Miranda growled and snatched her hands away. "Don't. You. Ever..."

"I'm sorry," Andy whispered.

"What do you want from me?" Miranda demanded, her voice raw. "Why did you run to Elias-Clarke?"

Andy closed her eyes. The solid press of wood against her back was the only thing holding her upright.

"I don't know, Miranda. I don't know how I ended up there." Andy shook her head. "I had no idea what was happening to me. It never even occurred to me ... to come to you. I just ran without knowing where I was going. I just ran." She looked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

She slid boneless down the door to the floor, shaking violently. Lost. Adrift. She couldn't see past the horror that had overtaken her life. The truth was ... the very notion of the word that neither of them had spoken teased at her brain and was ludicrous. An unbelievable 3-D scary movie had over-taken her world.

Vampire. I'm a god-damned vampire. How the hell is that possible? "What the hell am I going to do?" She looked around wildly for a moment. "God! I've got to get out of here. I'm sorry." She struggled until she was standing. "Listen. I uhm..." Her gaze remained fixed on the floor. "Thanks for ... yeah." She turned away. Reached for the door again. "Thanks."

"So." Miranda's voice was cold, flat. "You'll leave. Again. Still intent on running, Andrea."

"Why are you doing this?" Andy asked softly. The doorknob was cool in her palm. She leaned her forehead against the door. "I thought this was what you wanted." She was far gone past confused. "I know you don't want me here."

"I brought you into my home. I cleaned you up. I fed you. I kept you alive for days. And you'll just ... leave. Again."

"Days?" Andy frowned. Andy stiffened. "Fed?" Her hands trembled. "Kept me alive?"Andy mouthed although she knew Miranda hadn't heard it. But her blood suddenly chilled. "Fed?" She whispered.

"You had noticed hadn't you?" Miranda questioned. "You were calmer. Earlier. The blinding headache—gone. The dulling of that fierce hunger you thought would drive you insane." She felt the barest pressure of Miranda's body touching her back again. "Sounds are more bearable."

"What did you ...?"

"Use what's left of that intelligence of yours."

Andy felt sick. Blood. Andy swayed. There was no need to ask whose. She felt now what she hadn't felt before. Understood that dizzying sensation that had come upon just moments ago in that room. That scent which had wrapped around her, Miranda's scent. That pull. There was a prickling at the back of her mind ... something ... a tie. An acute awareness of Miranda Priestly, more intense then it had ever been before. A link.

Is this what Christian had tried to do to her?"

"What little substance that would-be rapist you ate gave you, you wasted when you vomited it back up. And you'd already starved yourself for days."Andy's stomach churned. "How much longer do you think you would have lasted? Someone should've been ... I cannot fathom why they let it go on ... allowed you to ..."

A hand touched her back and Andy wanted jerk away from the touch but didn't. She felt cold.

"What do you want, Miranda?"

"You had proven yourself, before you left." Miranda spoke calmly. "I had plans. For you." Andy shuddered. "Nothing like this." Miranda assured her. "You wouldn't have been ready. I wasn't even certain I would offer you this."

"To be like you. To be like..."

"As a human you were very promising. Like this..." Miranda paused. "Your barely worthy of being a pet."

A pet!? Andy's stomach knotted. She had no idea what that meant. But she didn't like it.

"But you're a resourceful girl, Andrea. I'm sure in time ..."

"No." Andy shook her head.

"You have a choice to make." Miranda pulled away and allowed Andy to turn and face her. "We're not the only one's Andy. And though I'm no little fish, there are bigger fish than me. And when they find out that Christian has made his own little minions ... they'll come for him and the little mongrels he made of your friends. And what they'll do to you when they learn what his three little fledglings have done. Your little sob story won't make a difference. All they'll see is a taint." Miranda lifted her head, lips curling into an unpleasant smile that said 'I've got you'. "I don't think I need to spell it out to you."

"Taint ...?"

"You have nothing, Andrea. No money. No power or political pull. You barely keep your debts in check. You're the unwanted white trash... thrown into the mix of blue bloods."

Andy drew in sharp breath.

"I have clout. Sway. I am not lacking in power." Miranda glanced down at her nails as though growing bored with the conversation. "Christian Thompson is the bottom of the barrel, barely a lowly baron. Because he was the favored human of Jacqueline Follet."

"Jacq..." Stunned Andy gaped, mouth hanging open until in embarrassment she snapped it closed with an audible click.

"I will not wait indefinitely for your answer." Miranda turned away and headed up back up the stairs. "Choose wisely, Andrea. Choose soon."

"Why are you doing this?" Andy called after her.

"You'll find warm clothes and shoes hanging in the closet." Miranda's voice floated down to her once the woman was out of sight. "Avoid the places your friends associate you with."

"Miranda!" Andy called. But there was no answer. Andy closed her eyes, took several deep breaths and then opened her eyes again. She smiled bitterly. "Nope. Still in hell."