Okay all, this is my first Fan Fiction story and I hope you all like it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: none of it is mine, with the exception of Bianca LaConte.

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In the city that never sleeps, the clubs were still open and foot traffic still pounded the pavement. This was Bianca's favorite time in New York City. She loved to see the beginnings of the crystalline dawn over the high-rises. As she walked the busy sidewalks, people either stared openly or avoided her gaze. Either way, they moved from her path and gave her a wide berth. It was always like this around her. Something about her air, her vibe, her body language demanded caution from others. Some recognized this consciously, while others were mystified by their sudden impulses.

A man down the street leaned against a graffitied brick wall and pretended to read a newspaper, but watched her approach. There was no denying her appeal, despite her youthful appearance. Her hips rolled rhythmically with every step and her shoulders rocked, like a panther slinking toward its prey. Her heavy-lidded, dark eyes peered at her fellow night-owls with hints of condescension, amusement and danger – that is, when she wasn't ignoring them completely. She wore fashionably faded blue jeans, a black tank-top, and over the flimsy camisole, she had on a red, thin jacket. She was petite but her small stature did not give off a sense of helplessness or delicate femininity. This girl was a hunter as surely as he was and that's why he was here.

He turned his focus to the paper in his hands, but his periphery never lost sight of her. He had found her using a new tracking system. And once he had her, he could develop another. As with the centuries before, the common man was unaware of a brutal, on-going war between his kind and hers. Much to his frustration, her race had always had the upper hand. But, he thought with a triumphant smirk, no longer.

The man didn't stand out in a crowd and was best described as non-descript. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height and build meant he blended well almost anywhere, but especially with the shadows filling the alleyway he stood in front of. The girl was about to pass him and he made his move. It looked completely innocent, as though he'd accidentally bumped into her. But he shoved a silver knife between her ribs, into her lung. She couldn't scream, but gave a staggered gasp. Her eyes widened and she started to fall forward. Taking her slim arm in an iron grasp, he dragged her through the alley to a dark SUV. He shoved her still body into the back and sped through the night.

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She was horribly aware of everything going on around her. Abducted from the streets of the City, she'd been moved upstate. The silver was still embedded in her back, paralyzing her and she'd been tied up in some condemned warehouse basement for hours. The Hunters had been more aggressive in their cause lately, but she never imagined that she might be taken. Not just because of her skill and instinct, but because kidnapping wasn't their normal M.O. They didn't take prisoners. Neither did her kind, for that matter. Neither side could afford to! There had been a standing kill order for both sides ever since the Hunters had formed.

The man approached her chair and twisted the knife as he removed it, tearing the already damaged flesh. The silver was gone, but the weakness it caused remained. She could barely move and the wound was knitting together at an excruciating slow pace.

"You're making a mistake." Bianca choked out. She twisted weakly against the ropes binding her hands, but only succeeded in burning the flesh of her wrists.

"No, I'm correcting one." The man retorted. "You are an abomination of nature; you and all of your kind. Your very existence is against God. I'm executing God's Will by executing you."

"Spare me the mission statement, Hunter." she drawled, rolling her eyes. The hatred between them ran so deep, even in her pain she found the strength to ridicule him. "I know more about your brainless, ineffectual society than you do. Only an organization run by witless wonders could pursue a single task for two millennia without making any headway. I mean, what's your move here? What will killing me accomplish? You can't kill us all. You can't even find us all!"

"See, that's where you're wrong." he smiled. "How do you think I found you? For over a century, we have worked on something much more effective than wooden stakes, silver bullets and UV lamps. Those things will hurt you, but this…this will track you. Each and every one of you."

He looked at her expectantly and she put on a face of mock-surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry! Were you expecting me to be impressed? Or believe you? Why the hell should I? You probably stumbled on me by accident! After all, that's the only way your people have ever accomplished anything: Dumb. Fucking. Luck." she mocked with a smirk.

The Hunter's jaw muscles twitched and he backhanded Bianca. Mentally, she smiled, even as her head snapped to the side. It was like dealing with a three-year-old: if he thought she didn't see him as a threat, he'd ramble about his prowess and cunning with no small amount of arrogance…but with very helpful details. "Stupid bitch! We've kept your kind in check for two thousand years! And the credit for finally bringing you down will go to US! I'm your own personal Armageddon, Dark One, because I'm not afraid of you. Thanks to one of your comrades, we know the truth. We know what you really are and it's not as scary as you've led us to believe."

She swallowed tightly, but raised her chin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really." he said with flat sarcasm. "Well, I'd stake my life on this information."

"As if I care what you'd stake your life on, Hunter! Your life is not worth my time! But…" she leaned in and was pleased to see him flinch. "Your death certainly is."

"And that's exactly why my kind pursues your kind. Killing is nothing to you! You may not be demons as our ancestors believed, but you're still evil."

"Do not act as though you stand on higher moral ground!" she bit out. "Killing is as impersonal and practiced as a handshake to you and yours. You enjoy it just as much as we do, if not more! We do it out of necessity; you do it for sadistic pleasure and twisted ethics."

"Oh, you're wrong. You're so wrong." he said fervently. "I will take no joy in killing you. But I can't let you escape with a quick death. You, who have plagued humanity for so long, must be made to suffer for your crimes. And we are the Chosen; it is our divine obligation to dole out that punishment." He moved to the door, but turned around as his hand settled on the doorknob. "I suggest you reflect on your sins. When I return, I'll bring things that will…persuade you to confess. But there will be no mercy for you tonight – not by God's hand or mine."

The moment the door shut behind him, she renewed her struggle against the ropes. His cult-like devotion and belief drove her to desperation; after so long, it amazed her to see that her sense of self-preservation was still strong. She pulled with all her might and millimeter by millimeter, her hand pulled through the restraint. She bit her lip to stifle a cry as her thumb dislocated and her flesh was scraped off, but quickly removed the ropes and untied the ones binding her ankles to the chair. Only a moment later, her thumb forced itself back into place with a faint pop and her skin healed.

Hiding in the shadows was second nature to her and she waited with grim anticipation. Feeding off humans wasn't her normal fare but Hunters were always an exception. As she waited, she couldn't help pondering what he'd said. One of her own had given up their secret? Vampires, by necessity, were a secretive community, but they had protected the One Secret since their beginnings. If the Hunters knew, it could be devastating! She would have to summon the others. There hadn't been a Vampire gathering in decades, but this warranted the deep concern of their entire race.

She heard the creaking of wooden stairs and the clunking approach of heavy footsteps. Breaking out of her thoughts, her body readied for the attack. It was always such a thrill, stalking one's prey. Her body, which was normally lifeless, revived her heartbeat, filled her stomach with hunger, and exposed her fangs, all in preparation of the feast. Her senses sharpened; she could hear the steady breathing of her chosen victim and her normally brown eyes morphed into translucent blue with pinprick pupils. Her lovely olive-toned skin faded into a pure white, anticipating the life-blood of this human.

Finally, the door opened with a squeak and she didn't give the Hunter enough time to process the empty chair in the middle of the room. In a flash, she was on him. Her fangs sunk into his jugular and blood, thick and delicious, slid down her throat. It was said amongst her people that the blood of a Hunter was the sweetest of all. She had fed from many during her long existence and had always found the Vampire proverb to be totally true. It had been a while since she'd drunk from a human, let alone a Hunter; she delighted in the warm, metallic taste and pulsing flow.

The Hunter tried to scream, but only a pathetic gurgle emerged from his throat as she continued to drain him. She grew satisfied with her victory too soon, though. The Hunter, with his last conscious effort, grabbed one of his instruments of torture. It was a gun equipped with silver bullets. His aim was wild as black clouded his vision, but the Vampire roared in pain as the bullet pierced her side. She dropped the man's weakened body with an angry sneer and let him bleed out on the floor. Bianca turned away to examine the wound, not giving the dead man another thought. Luckily, the bullet had passed through her. If it had stayed inside of her, she would have been paralyzed again. As it was, she was still recovering from the first attack and could barely keep upright.

She moved unsteadily, but crossed through the rotting warehouse and made it outside. Luckily, it was after sundown; travelling in her condition was bad enough without adding sunlight to the equation.

Parked outside the main entrance was a black sedan. She crawled into the front seat and, with more effort than usual, ripped the access cover off of the wires behind the ignition. Immortality had given her a pretty eclectic set of skills; her concentration drifted but eventually, she was able to hotwire the car. Merging onto a main road, the Vampire discovered she'd been moved to Mt. Kisco, New York.

Mt. Kisco. Unless she was mistaken, that was close to the city of Westchester. She was one of the few people outside the mansion who knew the true nature of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. A little over a year ago, she'd investigated the school thoroughly for…personal reasons. She didn't concern herself with the residents; she made a point to avoid mortals as best she could. Instead, she focused on their organization. It didn't take long to figure out its multiple purposes. It was a school, but also a base of operations for the mutant do-gooders, the X-men, and a safe-house for mutants in trouble. Well, she was in trouble and could easily pass as a mutant. Besides, it would give her the rare and treasured opportunity to – well, she couldn't concern herself with that now. A place to rest and heal was paramount.

The Vampire drove on and slapped her cheek to stay conscious. Everything was wavy and blurry, but sheer urgency kept her awake. She nearly cried in relief when she saw the great gates of the mansion. She abandoned the Hunter's car and took note of the cameras around the estate. This wasn't the first time she'd broken into the grounds or the mansion, but this time she'd need a more formal introduction to accomplish her goals. Invisible as always, she lifted into the air and over the stone wall, landing gracefully on the manicured lawn. At incredible speeds, she was across the estate and at the door in seconds. Swaying slightly on her feet, she rang the doorbell and knocked loudly.

Scott Summers was on night-watch, patrolling the halls, when he heard the doorbell. Instantly, he was on guard. He hadn't heard anyone use the gate intercom and he certainly hadn't buzzed anyone in. There was a strong wall surrounding the mansion's property. No one should be able to get to the door without him knowing. He approached the heavy oak doors cautiously, hand poised on his visor.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

A light, feminine voice called through the door. "My name is Bianca LaConte. Please, let me in!"

Scott cracked the door, but swung it open fully once he caught sight of her. Blood covered her tank-top, jacket, neck and breasts. Her dark-lidded eyes were drooping and she was leaning against the door for support.

"Jesus Christ! Are you alright?" he cried. "Let's get you to the med-lab."

"NO!" she practically shouted. "No medicine. Sanctuary. I seek sanctuary."

"Come in, then." he urged, watching as she stumbled over the entrance. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the med-lab? My fiancée is a doctor."

"I'm fine." she ground out. "Please, I'm just…I'm so tired. I need to rest."

"But you're bleeding!"

"It's not my blood. I was attacked." Bianca insisted weakly. "Look, is this a safe-house or not? What happened to helping your fellow mutants?"

Scott froze. "How do you know about that?"

Her glance darted around the room and she improvised. "I-I know one of your alumni. They told me if I ever got in trouble, I could come here."

"Who is this former student?" he asked suspiciously. Most of their students, past and present, were dedicated to protecting the school that had fostered them.

"Does it matter?" she burst out, losing her already thin patience. "You can ask me all the questions you want – tomorrow. Please! I need to rest!" she practically sobbed. The knife injury was nowhere near healed and the one through her side was just starting to regenerate – very, very slowly. Luckily, she'd fed from the Hunter already; that would help with the healing process. Even so, any injury involving silver meant her body needed to shut down for a while and concentrate on the area. But, even worse, she had two wounds and grave ones at that. Bianca wouldn't be able to keep it together much longer but couldn't risk passing out in front of the human; he'd take her to their med-lab and the doctor would discover things best kept secret.

Scott looked her over critically before nodding. "This way."

Bianca's body sagged. "Thank you." she sighed.

Scott led her through the dark hallways but halfway up the staircase, she was forced to lean on him for support. He slipped a hand around her waist and brought her arm over his neck to help her walk. He glanced over at his midnight mystery girl and found her sluggish and weak. She was barely conscious; he wanted nothing more than to hand her over to Jean, but nothing would come of it. The girl was refusing treatment and he had to respect that.

"Come on. Just a little further." he murmured softly. "I'm taking you to one of our guest rooms. It's got a nice queen-sized bed and fluffy pillows and you can sleep as long as you want, I promise. Don't worry, Miss, you'll be alright. We're almost there. Hey…you still with me over there?"

Bianca's eyes were closed but she nodded weakly, her chin hitting her chest.

"Good. Now, is there anyone you want me to call for you?" he asked, hoping to keep her awake by talking.

"The others." she murmured deliriously. "I need the others. The Hunters…they know. Have to…have to stop them."

"Uh-huh." he responded uncertainly. "Um, anyone specific? Parents, friends, maybe a boyfriend?"

But Bianca didn't respond. Her feet dragged heavily on the floor and her confused ramblings had boiled down to moans and grunts. She tripped over an upturned corner of the hall rug and Scott fought to keep his grip on her as she went down. That seemed to be the last straw and she didn't even have the strength to hold onto him anymore. He groaned as he swung her petite body into his arms, hooking an arm under her knees. She was a tiny little thing, but dead weight was dead weight and he arched his back to support her against his chest. Her arms swayed limply and her head lolled and bounced with his step, but thankfully, he turned the corner and arrived at a guest room.

After a brief struggle with the doorknob, Scott managed to get into the room and lay Bianca gently on the bed. He cared for her in unconsciousness, taking a wet rag and cleaning the dried blood off of her. There was some matted in the ends of her curly, black hair and he did what he could for it. As uncomfortable as it made him, he couldn't let her sleep in a blood soaked tank-top. Changing her was borderline unethical, but she wasn't a student here and he just couldn't leave her like this! If he smelled blood first thing in the morning, he'd make it even worse by having to smell vomit, too. Turning to face the door, he removed her jacket and tank-top as best he could. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and maneuvered her into it, staring hard at her face and squinting against glimpses of her black, lacy bra and smooth, olive-toned skin.

Scott, left only in a white ribbed tank-top and black slacks, cracked the door enough to slip out and moved purposefully down the hall. Jogging down the stairs and hallways, he arrived at the Professor's bedroom. After knocking, it took a few minutes for the Professor to get up, dressed and into his chair. Xavier opened the door, his eyes tired and sunken, only to see a very informally dressed Cyclops.

"Scott?" Xavier asked confusedly. "What is it?"

"Professor, I'm sorry if I woke you, but…we have a situation."

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