C H A P T E R | O N E
Author's Note: I would appreciate any and all comments, whether they're good or bad. Good is always better, but I can definitely use constructive criticism, as well. Thank you!

"Shh."

There was no denying the surge of hope that erupted through me as the ice cold hands I believed to be familiar locked around my mouth and wrists. I fought back that urge to scream, the idea dying in my throat as I searched the darkness for the golden eyed angel who had been absent for so long. I cursed under my breath, seeing nothing in the darkness, the sensation of the frozen grip that had ensnared me fading as the warm night's air replaced it. Another dream, I realized, the gaping hole that had been driven through my chest splitting open, just like new. I should have known better than to trust myself in the state I'd been in, months over, by this point. I'd been seeing him everywhere, hearing his voice in my dreams and, more recently, in her waking hours. In this place, so similar to the place he had left me, was it any wonder that I could recall in great detail the feeling of having him close?

I would have believed that, accepted that the hands I felt were naught but a product of what I'd come close to labeling my insanity, if not for the flash of pale, white skin I caught, zipping by in a patch of moonlight. My heart still managed to fall, sinking deeper into the hole in my chest than moments prior - I didn't feel him. This presence did not bring with it the calm and immediate gratification that my hallucinations of Edward had. This felt solid, logical, somehow. It felt real. The tiniest surge of fear rocketed through me, and I damn near reveled in it. It was a feeling in general, something that broke through the monotony of numbess, day in and day out. I could at least be grateful for that, if nothing else. I backed up, hands outstretched behind me, until they met the damp moss that covered each and every tree trunk in the forest. I knew all the trees by heart, it seemed, having spent many hours of the night in the very area I now stood in, waiting for something. Anything, at all. Now that I was glimpsing that something, even if it had not been what I expected, my heart was suddenly attempting to liven itself into beating, again.

"Is it you?" I asked the darkness, unable to speak aloud Edward's name, though I was praying with all my might that the answer would come in the velveteen silk of the voice I knew, so well. Tears stung my eyes, and I almost laughed with glee. I was feeling again, after months of moonless nights and sunless days, of not feeling the rain or the sunshine, or even trivial and human emotions, I was finally feeling something. I wondered, very briefly, if the fact that I refused to discriminate based on what I was feeling - fear, happiness, sadness - made me pathetic. The thought was gone as fast as it had come, however, replaced with my attempt to keep up with another blindingly fast flash of white that whizzed by.

I circled, feeling the presence of someone or something, against my back. The cool, faintly sweet breath of a vampire lingered on my cheek, though it was impossible to tell reality from exquisite and painful fantasy. Besides, all vampires seemed to have the same scent on their breath, give or take an undercurrent. This scent was different, though I would not allow myself to acknowledge that. How could I, when I was finally being offered a mental vacation more realistic than just the whispers of his echoing voice in my head. It, somehow, mattered even less to me that, if it were not Edward, I was in very real danger. It was sick, but it was worth it to me, even to pretend, for a moment or two.

Whoever, whatever was circling me in the forest ghosted closer and closer every time I whipped around, searching frantically for Edward anywhere in the darkness. My tears flowed unchecked over my cheeks as I turned circles fast enough to make me dizzy, until finally I was pinned roughly against a tree. It happened so fast that my mind refused to process it for several moments. It took me an equal amount of time to take in the face that stared back at me, the moonlight casting enough light for me to make out the features that the face wore. I expected the hole to come back with renowned vengeance, but it ached dully around the edges, a normal and routine senstation, for me.

"You need to work on your listening skills. I asked to you keep quiet," the sultry voice purred, semi-familiar red eyes burning into mine as a cold hand found its way to my throat. I didn't understand how this reality was possible, but I could definitely assure myself that it was far from a fantasy. My dreams were of Edward, only ever Edward, and the pain was alway reserved for when I opened my eyes. This person, this creature, was not the fabric my dreams were made of. He had been the very core of my nightmares for the better part of a year, until finally those dreams had subsided. I froze, immediately, wondering how this scenario existed, though I was positive as to how it was to end.

"Much better," he congratulated, hand moving from my throat when he was sufficiently convinced I'd be keeping silent. He kept a grip on my chin, holding my gaze to his with his thumb and forefinger. I couldn't speak, at that point, if I had wanted to. Given his instructions and the grave seriousness he had given them to me with, I did not intend to try. I could see the smile on his lips and the gleam of his brilliant teeth in the moonlight as his lips curled back over them. He gave a musical but threatening laugh that made me shudder, the reaction he drew from me only making him laugh more. After a moment, he grew deathly silent, red eyes watching and observing with utter seriousness. "Now, and forgive me, but I'm honestly curious, here, I would like to know just what you're doing out here tonight and, so alone?"

I shuddered at the coolness of his breath as he leaned in with his words, voice menacing but amused as he spoke. I was unsure whether it was a question he truly desired an answer to, or merely a taunt, until he gave me a warning shove back into the tree, taking a step forward to intrude my personal space. My breath stopped completely, making words difficult to come by. His narrowed eyes indicated a distinct lack of playfulness about the request and I did my best to find the vocal skills God had given me.

"Looking for something," came my soft and flat reply. I had decided to give him the truth in it's least detailed form. He looked on at me, curiously, loosening his grip ever so slightly as he appraised my words.

"And what, pray tell, have you been looking for, in the woods, every night for weeks upon weeks? One would only assume it's trouble you're hoping to find..." His voice was light and comical, though the edge of brutality that lurked there never left. He wanted to remind me how dangerous he was, and what a fool Edward had been for ever allowing him to live, in the first place. His paraphrasing my nighttime rituals as they had been for the better part of the time Edward had been gone let on to one key fact - James had been watching. He had never stopped tracking me, never stopped keeping tabs on his human prey. It also indicated that he knew precisely what I had been looking for, all those nights I'd put myself in harms way. I didn't need to say it.

"You know who I've been looking for," I answered, none too timid to give him that bold of an answer. If James was going to attempt round two of the game he had begun before, he was out of luck. It would end in his killing me, as Edward would not be coming to her rescue. Pity, really. I was just barely eighteen, and it seemed a shame to die alone, without the person you cared for most even acknowledging your existence. There hardly seemed an alternative to my death, as I was certain James had not merely dropped by to chat. And if he had, this time, the next time would end in a bloody way. It was all a matter of 'when'.

"Ah, yes. Loverboy and the rest of the do-gooders seemed to have abandoned you," he said, a mocking pout playing on his lips. He brought a hand to my cheek, icy fingertips caressing the damp skin of my cheek, where my tears had fallen. I shivered, my mind immediately making the connection between the temperature of his touch and Edward. I bit back those thoughts, refusing to allow the memory of Edward's gentle, faint touches to be marred by confusing them with the rough, unpracticed way James had about him. It was a disgusting comparison to attempt. "I felt it was certain he'd return for you, by this point. You're such an interesting little plaything, and I believe we both knew my game was far from finished..."

He could threaten me all he wanted, I could handle his taunts. It was nothing I hadn't lived through before, and, in all honesty, living was not high on the list of concerns. I had not been doing much living in so long, in the first place. Numbness was no comparison to the vibrance and love I had felt when with Edward, or even the broken, shattered feeling I had achieved when he left me. It was a twisted stroke of fate's pen that I was to be so grateful to my would-be murderer, just for allowing me a single night of feeling something amid the time I had felt so little. Irony in it's truest form.

"Why aren't you frightened? Last time you were in this situation, I could smell your fear a mile away," he recalled, breathing deeply, presumably checking the air for a similar scent. He would find none. He seemed frustrated by this, growling and tightening his grasp on me, once more. I tensed up, but still failed to muster up the fear he seemed to crave. "Last time, you even knew for certain Edward would find you. Now, it's all up to a roll of the dice. You have much more to fear now, especially if your little hero decides not to show," he pointed out, casually, giving a small shrug.

"He won't come for me, this time," I answered, defeated but certain. James looked shocked, though I could not decide whether this was due to my speaking out of turn or the information I was giving him. He inched ever closer, though I hadn't been sure that was possible, and laughed almost directly against my lips. It was a humorless chuckle that unnerved me by it's proximity and it's whimsical but dangerous tone. His scent, I noted, was nothing like Edward's. There was a sweet, earthen tone to his skin, where as Edward's had been tinged with a faintly minty note. Not that the perfume of my attacker should have been registering in my mimd, whatsoever.

"Oh, you had better hope you're mistaken, though I suppose we'll see just how well you know your Romeo... Sweet dreams," he half whispered the latter half of his sentence, head cocked curiously to the side. His hand moved from my chin to entangle deeply in my mussed mane of hair in one of the familiarly quick moves vampires were capable of, pausing less than a human blink before my skull made direct contact with the sturdy trunk behind me.