Dedicated to Steph :)
One shot for the moment, may or may not continue.
Reviews make me happy! :D

They are coming for me.

I can feel it. I can't see anything through the thick fog that presses around me, hugging to my skin and stealing my vision, but I can feel it. They're everywhere.

Behind every tree that I can't see through the mist, around every bend, every corner. Waiting to be the lucky one to get to me first. And I can't do anything, go anywhere. I'm stuck here, rooted to the spot in fear until one of them gets bored and comes to find me.

What was I thinking, coming here? My voice of reason, of rationality, of judgement, had been screaming at me to stop and turn back for the last hour now. But the voice of my heart, my soul, my longing, kept driving me forward.

I had to know that he was ok. I had to make sure that he hadn't been hurt because of me.

All my grand plans had ended with me running into Eamon first. I'd pictured the way we'd reunite in a scene a thousand times over. I'd run straight into his strong arms, and he'd hold me there for what seemed like an eternity. Then, he'd gently life my chin so I could see his totally perfect, uninjured face, and just before his cold red lips landed on mine, I would gaze into his never ending green eyes and everything would be right in the world.

I had not taken into account the fact that Eamon lives with twenty other vampires. Twenty vampires that are wild and savage and bloodthirsty, twenty vampires who would not hesitate to snap my neck and drain my blood. Twenty vampires that are now positioned strategically around me, waiting for me to stumble blindly into one of them.

They haven't realised that I know they're near me yet, otherwise I wouldn't be alive. It sounds crazy, but I can sense them there. Maybe it's because of the time I've been spending with Eamon and Briar. It's like I'm attuned to the vampire world. I can read the subtle clues that would be oblivious to everyone else. The deathly silence is the biggest giveaway. The middle of the forest is home to all kinds of animals. The absence of their noise, their activity is an ominous indication. The way it feels like the air has stopped, the way it has dropped ten degrees in the last minute, the way the fog has grown to a thick, blinding blanket around me...All these signs have me counting down my heartbeats.

I tremble violently in my thin cotton sweater that I wore because it is pale blue...Eamon's favourite colour. I wait for the moment when one of them realises I'm not moving anymore and then, just like that my life will be over. And I didn't even get to see whether Eamon was ok.

Suddenly, the fog on my right shudders slightly. My body locks up with panic and my breath stops. All I can hear is my own heart pounding in my chest as a figure swathed in black materialises through the mist. It takes all of two seconds, but to me, it feels like an entire lifetime. A soft laugh shatters the silence, and suddenly the vampire is standing barely two centimetres away. I can feel his stale frozen breath on my cheek as he continues to laugh menacingly. His skin is as pale as snow; his black hair is slicked back and plastered against his forehead. Beady black eyes shine excitedly, and he licks his lips, exposing two perfect fangs. A name suddenly springs to the front of my mind. Lucian. I've seen him before, from a distance. He was the one who told the elders about Eamon and me, the one who caused all this. He was the one potentially responsible for Eamon's punishment. Anger courses through my veins for a split second, flowing like lava, until reality catches up with me again and the lava is replaced by ice, freezing me where I stand.

"Well look what I've found here," Lucian whispers, in a voice that hisses like a snake. "It's Skye, isn't it? We've never been properly introduced. I'm Lucian. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He holds out a hand for me to shake but I am so frozen with fear I cannot move. Not that I would touch him anyway. I stare at his hand until it becomes evident that I am not going to take it. He withdraws it and a terrifying grin spreads across his wide mouth, exposing his fangs.

"That's hardly polite Skye," he hisses again. "I would expect a lady of Eamon's to have much better manners. Let's try again."

He holds out his hand again, but this time instead of waiting for me, he grabs my fingers into his own and squeezes with an iron grasp. The pain courses up my arm and through my body. A gasp of agony escapes my lips as I feel the crack of my little finger.

"Much better," Lucian says, the maniacal smile still stamped on his face. "We mustn't forget our manners now child."

He releases my hand, and steps backwards, his eyes examining every inch of my body in a cold calculating way. They light up when he reaches my face, and he steps forward again, running an ice cold finger down the side of my neck.

"Of course, you're not a child, are you?" He whispers, leaning into my ear as his hand continues down, over my ribs. "You are most certainly a woman."

His hand stops on my hip and he lifts his head so he can stare into my eyes.

"I am beginning to see now why our dear Eamon held such a fascination with you. You are very pretty you know, with those big blue eyes and soft, warm skin. Your hair is rather distracting though," he says, pulling a curl loose from my ponytail and draping it across my neck. "It is the exact same shade as I imagine your blood is. Hanging there over your neck it almost makes me...hungry."

A higher, piercing laugh sounds from somewhere to my left, its owner still concealed in the fog.

"Lucky really, that Eamon won't have to bear witness to your fate," Lucian says, starting to circle me. "I hate to think what it would have done to the poor boy. You were in love, weren't you?" He mocks, as more peals of laughter erupt from the fog.

"Not to worry though. We've taken care of that. Your beloved won't be seeing anything...ever again."

All the fear that has built up inside me and frozen me solid shatters with a burst of anger and passion.

"What have you done to him?" I snarl.

"It is not your place to be asking questions!" Lucian screeches, his eerie calmness replaced by burning anger as he snaps back to his position in front of me. He takes a moment before he speaks again, the smile back on his face, though I can see his hand quivering and his eyes are still livid.

"I will grant you one, small favour though. A dying wish if you please, because I am such a generous man."

The laughter explodes again

"His dratted sister, the young one? Bree I believe..."

"It's Briar." I whisper, so quietly I barely hear myself speak.

Lucian stops, the smile slipping off his face. He stares at me for one long second, before I find myself flying backwards. I hit the trunk of a dying oak tree and my head snaps back and hits it twice.

I slump to the ground, my vision cloudy, ears ringing. Slowly, like a beating drum, I feel the pounding in the back of my head. I reach behind, dreading the sticky wetness of blood. If I'm bleeding then it's all over. I feel a small moment of relief though when I find that it's just a lump the size of a small boulder. That relief is instantly replaced by fear as my wrists are grabbed and jerked up, so I am standing, again, face to face with Lucian.

"Never," he whispers, so quietly and so menacingly that it makes my skin crawl, "never interrupt me or correct me again. Do you understand?"

I nod stiffly, and that small move sends a wave of nausea rolling through my body. I think I might be concussed...I guess concussion doesn't matter if you're going to die.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," he continues, his voice returning to the usual hiss, "The brat Briar's fate hasn't been decided...yet. She got to watch the demise of her brother...and now she can watch your end too. Won't it be lovely to have her there for support? You two were close...weren't you?"

I instantly think of Briar, her long dark hair and wide hazel eyes. The way she is old beyond her age, yet still innocent at the same time. Her fierce determination and courage was something I'd always admired and I wondered briefly what she would do if she were in my situation now. Then I stop myself. She is in this situation. And it's my fault.

"I asked you a question!" Snarls Lucian. "When I ask questions, I expect answers!"

He yells the last word so loudly, I think I feel the ground move.

As if they were waiting on some hidden cue, I begin to see more dark figures emerge from the fog. Five, eight, twelve...

I stop counting as Lucian grabs me by the back of the neck.

"I've had enough fun and games," he growls to the two shapes closest to him. "Vaughn, Malick, you know what to do."

He shoves me roughly into the arms of two large, leering vampires and the last thing I see before my head is knocked with a tremendous force into the trunk of the same oak tree, is a pair of bright green eyes appearing from the darkness.