The others have gone, leaving only Hunter remaining, circling me like a predator would circle it's prey. After several attempts of struggling furiously against the binding ropes, I give up. I just kind of slump down into a position with my head bent backwards, staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes. My thoughts keep on running back to Alice: is she safe? Where is she? Is she at home, or have they taken her too? Or worse...

The ropes are astonishingly sturdy and don't leave much more room for thinking because of the biting pain forming where they've been bound tightly across my ankles and wrists. They keep me completely paralysed to the uncomfortable chair. The chair's worn wood is biting unpleasantly into my lower back. I try the ropes around my wrists once more, but they still won't give up.

"You know..." I begin, but bite my lip, unsure about whether or not to speak. Instead, I focus on what's around me. It's not very easy, as the sun has set and the moon is the only source of light as it streams in through the window and bathes the otherwise black room in an eery glow.

I look at Hunter's frighteningly immobile figure, contemplating the darkness outside the window. I don't know how he walks around without knocking over at least some sort of furniture or even hit his toes into the foot of a chair, but the black surroundings don't seem to have any effect on him. On his kind.

I shiver internally and focus on the faint outlines of his shadow. They seem to be able to do anything in a matter of seconds. Strenght, speed and night-vision. Oh, and let's not forget that creepy scene in the cave with the whole "you smell so good".

They obviously have dog noses as well...

I groan, frustrated, again failing to free myself from the ropes. This is becoming way too tiring. I have Hunter's attention in the process and in a flash he's at eye level with me, crouched on one knee. He tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow curiously. Now that he's closer, I can see his jet hair, as efficiently as you could in complete blackness, but the moon's light, swarming into the room, gives me a good view of his looks.

And they're good. That's another thing; none of the guys are ugly - I seriously wish they were, it'd make it easier to hate them and fear them - but they're not. They all seem to have been born with beauty in their genes, which I find completely unfair by the way.

I groan in annoyance at the though.

"What?" He looks amused now, his black eyes sparkling with interest and curiosity. Now that his face is inches from mine, I can see the bright red circle around his pupil, differing its colour amid the rest of his black eyes. The scar glistens in the moonlight, but it doesn't ruin his looks, only makes him look more tough, invincible. Annoying.

"I wish you were ugly," I state boldly, starring straight into his eyes.

He tilts his head and chuckles. It's painful to admit that his lough sounds heavenly. "And why's that?"

-I'd make it easier to hate you," I reply truthfully, spilling out my thoughts out loud. "Why can't I read your thoughts?" I burst out suddenly, immediately regretting my words.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He lifts my chin up and seems to examine my eyes closely. "What did you say?" He whispers, slightly more threatening that before.

"I'm pretty sure you heard me." I breathe out, my voice slightly quivering as he leans in closer. "And stop looking at me like that, it's creepy." I finish, trying my best to seem unaffected by his face inches from mine. If I was expecting another laugh, I get nothing. "Jay's practically been glued to me and he's probably seen everything going on at school." I point out, stating the obvious.

"Try," he suddenly says, his voice being one of command.

-What?" Gosh that sounded dumb.

-Try," he repeats coldly, making fear resurface into my mind. Somehow, I know what he wants me to do. But I don't like reaching in, it's unpredictable and uncomfortable. I never know if I'll find myself drowning in happy roses and lilies and unicorns, or struggling to catch my breath in a glass box tightening closer and closer to me, crawling with dark and strange monsters. The only reason I did it to Angelina was because she was seriously pissing me off.

"If I do, you're going to promise me that you'll tell me everything, even what I'm not supposed to know." I demand, bargaining for my truths unraveled, and secretly, my freedom. If I can just get untied to reach into his mind, and plan some sort of escape plan, I may be able to get my freedom back. I could get Alice back.

I shake my head, forcing her out of my brain. Even though it hurts, I can't have any distractions.

Hunter snarls at my words, probably trying to scare me to reason, but I remain impassive, waiting for his reply patiently. Obviously noticing that I'm not going to waver on my decision and conditions, he sighs and passes his hand roughly through his hair, which falls back into place in an annoyingly perfect way. He sighs again, having made his decision, and flicks his eyes back at me. That red circle around his dark pupil is still glowing fiercely. They're hypnotising. "Fine. I'll tell you what you need to know."

"And what I'm not supposed to know," I check.

"Yes, and that," he snaps back, and I smile, oddly satisfied. With the most arrogance that I can muster, I smile coldly and straighten up, trying to appear professional. Inside I'm anything but; my nerves are jumbling into a chaotic mess that I can't get any sense out of.

Focus Emma, focus.

"Good then. Let's get started."

...°...

I have no idea where this sudden confidence is coming from but I have no doubt that I have to try anything I can to get away from here and get Alice, as I sit crossed-legged on the floor, face-to-face with Hunter. In a matter seconds he had ripped the ropes off as if they were paper and thrown the chair across the room like a rag doll, leaving me no choice but to sit on the soft carpet. I don't mind, at least I can breathe again without feeling the strain of containment.

I can't direct my gaze from the scar lacing the side of his face but I force myself to do it anyway, pushing away the thought of how he got it. I still can't empty myself of the curiosity.

"Well?" Hunter snaps, impatience coating his voice as he tries to recompose himself. I remember Jay and Chase. I couldn't read their thoughts. How will I be able to read his?

It's this or probably being thrown in a cave to rot to death.

I shiver at the thought. I can do this.

I can do this; I can do this; I can-

"We'll be sitting here tomorrow if you don't get started soon." His voice is cold and threatening, and I straighten up, staring straight into his eyes.

"No need to be rude," I mutter, earning a snarl from him. I put my hands up in surrender, "Okay, okay, geez... someone's got their panties in a twist..."

In a second he's kneeling right in front of me and gripping my chin hard, lifting it up to stare into his blood red eyes.

Oopsies, I pissed him off.

"Do not disrespect me," he hisses, fangs extending and gleaming in the pale moonlight. I gulp and nod, and he lets go off me with an expression on his face as if I was a disgusting insect that he had been forced to touch. He settles back down in front of me and his stare makes me extremely uncomfortable. I don't tell him that though, because I'm pretty sure that I want my intestines to stay in my body. I take a deep breath and stare back into his glistening eyes.

Usually, at first it would feel like an invisible cord reaching out from his sin and trying to rip my eyes out, but then, the pain would gradually fade, clearing a twinkling path to his head. I'd focus on that path, and pass all of the childhood memories contained in his mind, good and bad, until I wouldn't be able to take it anymore and my head would feel as if were about to pop.

Not now.

Nothing.

Emptiness.

It's like slamming into an endless iron wall, separating his head from mine. I can't get in.

"This isn't working." I cross my arms and let out a sigh of annoyance. He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest as well, mimicking my stance. However, when he does it, it defines the hard muscles under his tee-shirt. But it's freezing in here.

"Why aren't you cold?" I whisper, watching as my breath leaves my mouth and evaporates into a puffy cloud in front of me, before disappearing into the darkness. When he breathes, nothing comes out, so he must not be breathing.

"We don't feel the cold," he says slowly, acting nonchalant about the whole thing. I can see a tension though, in the way that he sits up straighter. "We don't need to. We're practically dead corpses wandering around the earth."

Dead corpses wandering around the earth.

So their kind is everywhere.

My lips quiver and I gulp. "But if you're already dead, you can't be killed ... can you?" I ask hesitantly, watching his reaction.

"No, we can't. Only by very few ways that only one type of your human kind knows about. Now, get to work."

One type of my human kind?

By the way his eyes flash red and black as he tries to control his anger and impatience I have a feeling that he would hate for me to press the subject. My body shakes slightly - from the cold or not I don't know - and all thoughts of possible escape seem to vanish from my mind. Suddenly, the ferocious scar on Hunter's face starts to change, throwing blue reflections on the floor.

I extend my hand towards it.

...°...

Hunter's POV

I see her pale, trembling fingers reach towards my face, and I've got no idea what the hell she's doing. Then I see her eyes. Slowly, a golden colour seems to appear in their depths, mesmerisingly mixing into the sparkling blue hues, until swirls of a sparkling golden blue watch me intently.

I don't stop her when she touches my scar, my reminder of how love doesn't exist, too hypnotised by that usually beautiful colour in her eyes to think properly.

And then there's pain.

I keep myself from screaming out in agony as I'm pulled into a tornado of dark swirls, half-present, half-gone, with Emma clinging onto me. It seems like our bodies are being stretched and ripped in between a dream world and reality. Emma looks paler than ever as she grips at my body frantically, frightened out of her mind. This has never happened before.

Somehow, I feel the urge to protect her from whatever's coming, but I push that thought or instinct away. Vampires don't feel. I look down at her with what I hope are cold eyes but she's not looking at me. I follow her gaze, and see the ground approaching at a horrifyingly rapid pace.

We're falling from a pale blue sky.

Without thinking, I swing an arm around her waist and try to hold onto the swirls cascading around us like protective shields. However, I reach towards it with my hand and it passes right through, as if it's made of pure air. If we crash, we're done.

Emma finally looks up at me with those golden blue eyes that seem to hold onto so much pain in the past and closes them, burying her face in my chest and wrapping her petite body around mine. I look down onto the ground and see it coming closer and closer rapidly, a chaos of colourful air twirling around us. I can feel Emma fisting my teeshirt in her hands and take a deep breath, crouching into myself and bringing her with me.

I feel the impact the second we reach the ground, and my legs bend. Suddenly, I crouch further and we connect with the grass, and I wrap her into me to keep from colliding with it. I feel her body being ripped from mine as I tumble slightly down a hill, pain lacerating my body. I look up and move to groan, but no sound comes out of me. I can't seem to utter any form of sound at all. I look up the little hill side that I rolled down with a broken body to find Emma scrambling to her feet and looking around her all disoriented and with frantic eyes. I open my mouth again to yell at her, to show her where I am, but nothing comes out either. It's infuriating. I can't speak. Finally, she sees me, and she also opens those red lips to speak, only to find out herself that she can't.

Shaking her head with wander, she resorts to running down the hill and drops by my side. A little path goes from the bottom of the hill and leads into some little village of sorts in the far distance. It's barely a dot in the horizon filled with peaking mountains, and if not for my vampire sight, I would have no way of catching it.

Convinced to go to that village, I move to sit up, but agonising pain rips all the way from my legs to the top of my head. Emma sees the strain in me and looks at me with... worry. How can she possibly worry about someone like me? I had her kidnapped, hell, I tortured her. At the memory of the state of her crimson blood in my mouth my eyes flash red. I can feel the burn that they bring, that burn to feed. It's dangerous to be near me, but Emma doesn't realise at all. But she seems to figure out something.

I can't heal without blood. I was stupid enough not to feed again before coming to her room, but the chaos that the guys made when trying to tie her up wasn't exactly a lovely sound to eat to. I sit up slowly, trying to ignore the pain in me. I take her delicate hand in mine and she turns her wrist automatically. I raise an eyebrow at her and she slowly nods.

'We won't be able to get out of here if not.' She seems to mouth, rosy lips moving in sync. I watch them with wonderment, but when the burning desire from hunger flames higher in my throat, I feel my fangs extended on instinct. I travel a finger over the soft skin of her wrist and feel a beating, erratic pulse. I bring her hand up to my mouth, and before she can have the chance to back out, I bite in. I see her face contort into one of pure pain, but then it fades as I greedily gulp down her fresh blood, morphing into one of pleasure and lazy fatigue. Her blood is like sweet honey in my mouth, something of the best that I've ever tasted. It takes great strength in me to rip my mouth away from her hand, and she immediately slumps into my body with exhaustion as I feel my body healing in seconds.

A soft breeze caresses my face and blows strands of golden hair around hers. I stand up and lift her up into my arms. Then I run. It takes me less than a minute to reach the village. Emma's eyes are drooping, but she'll be on her feet again soon, as soon has her body has regenerated her blood cells.

Don't think about her blood.

I look around the place, and it seems like we're standing in the village square. It looks like it's been pulled straight out of Medieval times, and a strain of recognition forces its way into my mind. No one is around, or at least not outside. It seems completely deserted. Sensing Emma shift in my arms, I place her gently on her feet, and her legs wobble slightly as she catches onto my arm to steady herself. My bicep tenses under her touch, but she doesn't seem to notice.

Then it hits me. Emma looks up at me with curious and hypnotising eyes but I'm not looking at her anymore.

This is my birthplace. My homeland. My failed heart seems to start up and then stop dead again. The shock is too much. Suddenly, at the other side of the fountain in the middle of the square a cottage door swings open, and a little boy runs out of it -about ten or so of age - playfully ignoring his mother's warning yells from the inside.

He's got jet hair.

He's got black eyes.

No scar is visible on his face, yet.

He's me.