So here it is... sequel to Dark Times. Hoping that you guys enjoy.

Not Over Yet

Prologue

It paced the dark, empty room. The one he had resided in. The one she had "haunted" for so long. But now, he was gone.

She would see Jasper Hale again…. Of this, she was certain.

If he did not return on his own, then she would go and find him.

Her kind never had an issue finding the ones they wanted. Never. It was an impossibility.

Of course, if she were to fail in coaxing him back—again, an impossibility—she could always call upon the others. Together, they were strong. Success was certain.

Jasper was weak anyway. Far too weak to resist.

So she would wait… she would patiently bide her time… in the meantime, she would return to the others. To her home.

The house was useless now. Useless when the one whose life she coveted was gone.

So she left…

And reappeared in her homeland.

Chapter 1

Jasper POV

I sat back in the chair with a soft sigh, rubbing at my aching side gingerly. It hurt really badly.

At least I wasn't so sick anymore.

Away from the house, I had recovered somewhat. Carlisle had said the house wasn't good for me, and I guess he'd been right.

I could walk now. I couldn't hunt alone, but I could still do so. I could even manage a full animal. Sometimes.

"Done with the exercises for today?" Carlisle interrupted my train of thought.

I nodded. I couldn't handle anymore.

Esme rubbed my shoulders lightly. "You're getting so much stronger, sweetie," she told me, smiling softly. "Your father was right. Getting out of that house… away from that thing… must've been what you needed."

I nodded. Few more doses of that cure Aro had given us, out of that house, and I was okay again.

Carlisle sighed.

"Jasper, have you seen any more of the creature?" His golden eyes bored into me, causing me to quickly become uncomfortable.

"No, sir."

"Hey now, no need for the 'sir'," Carlisle reminded me softly. "I'm just wondering." His gaze hardened somewhat, for a second time. "Are you certain, son? I've heard you sleep-talking about it as of lately."

"I'm sure, Carlisle." I rubbed at my temples. The interrogation was giving me a headache. "Just nightmares from the experience. I haven't seen It again."

After a moment, he nodded. "Alright, Jasper."

But he might not have been convinced… he retired to his study a few minutes later. Possibly doing more research, I guessed. Not that he would find anything.

I didn't understand why he still bothered. Three weeks of research and he hadn't found one thing. It was on the verge of becoming completely ridiculous, honestly.

"Jasper… Jasper, darling. Come on, Jasper."

It took all of my focus and willpower to wrench myself from my thoughts and focus on Esme. But it was like looking at her through heavy fog—her face was blurred and even her voice seemed muffled.

"Yeah?" My voice sounded far away, even to my ears.

"I said come and lie down, honey." She stopped me as I began to interrupt. "You don't have to sleep, but you do have to lie down. I'm not playing."

Resisting the urge to gripe and grumble the whole way, I went quietly, allowing Esme to take my arm and lead me to the bed, where I flopped down.

Still couldn't see. I closed my eyes, giving up.

Its form danced behind my lids.

No matter how far away we were, I would never be completely free from Its power.

The young shape-shifter opened her eyes, only to find herself in bleak, gray surroundings.

What in the…? She wondered, trying to sit up. But to her immense fear, she immediately found that she was bound to the place where she lay. To a human, she supposed it would've felt cold. To her, it seemed lukewarm. It was bearable.

With a jolt of surprise, she realized she was not alone in the room.

A man stood, with his back to her, bent over something. He was mumbling nonsense to himself as he did so, in an incomprehensible language, at least to her ears. Nonetheless, she tried to understand and failed.

After a few minutes, he straightened up and turned, starting toward her. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried in vain to conceal her horror at the sight of his face.

It was… disfigured, to say the least.

Scars ran across his face, not unlike those of Emily Young, but far greater in number. His mouth, like Emily's, pulled down at the corner, as did the entire right side of his face. But the left side… oh God, she thought, trying not to vomit. It was nearly gone. As if it had been eaten away.

"Hello, Christine," he greeted her. "I would ask how you are doing this evening, but I can already guess your answer. Not well, hm?"

Christine's eyes narrowed, her hands clenching into fists. "Why the hell am I here? What do you want from me?"

"Is it really so hard to guess, young one?" The man looked at her with an expression of profound sadness, but his lips twitched, as if trying to smirk.

"Tell me."

"My creations want your life," he told her. "No, 'want' is not the correct word. They need your life."

Christine merely stared at him. "Creations?"

She was beginning to get a sick feeling. A feeling which told her she would not be leaving this place alive… if she left at all.

"My creations, yes." The man folded his hands behind his back and began to pace, his eerie blue eyes never leaving her. "All of my creations were once supernatural, you see. I originally tried humans, not wanting to destroy supernatural life…" he smiled at this, "but the humans did not last long. They fought amongst themselves.

"Many of them were once vampiric beings," he said. "Until I turned them into what they are now. Once the original one was created, I never had to go through that long, grueling process again. Now, I can create them by feeding a supernatural being to another."

Oh no….

"You, my dear Christine, are supernatural." The man walked over to her, placing his greasy fingers under her chin and lifting her face, tilting it from side to side, as if to get a better look at her. "Yes, you will make a fine one. Strong young one."

Christine's heart was pounding with terror, so badly that she was almost sure he could hear it, although he gave no sign of it. "No!"

He didn't give any indication that he'd heard her, merely continued talking.

"I am sorry to take such a short life, but I must. This is why I prefer older vampires, you see, rather than shape-shifters. But you were all that was available to them, and so you were chosen." He released her chin and walked over to the door.

"Maria, do you still wish to watch?"

"Of course." It was a high, musical voice which rang like a bell, and Christine's body surged against the ropes binding her. Every muscle screamed at her to phase and destroy the creature that gave the voice, but she could not. Vampire! Vampire! Her mind screamed.

The bloodsucker entered the room. Her long black curls fell to her waist and she wore a snug, stylish outfit. Her red eyes were alert and bright as she looked at Christine and smirked. "Mutt."

Christine snarled, struggling against the ropes.

The man, who had been out of her sight for a few minutes, returned with a faint, ghostly figure trailing behind him. He smiled at Christine. "Lie still now, Christine. This will only hurt more if you dare struggle during the process."

She growled at him too, but forced herself to be still. Why hurt herself more during her final few minutes?

The figure approached, shimmering in and out of view as it did.

Christine couldn't even look away.

A gap in the lower part of its face opened, and it bent over her.

Christine felt a sucking sensation, and a feeling of floating… her body jerked…

And everything faded.

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