Finally have a new fic. Courtesy of vampirelover1000x, who got me back into writing. Check out her Twilight fanfiction, even if you despise the 't love story.

The Beginning

Biology next. Just my luck. Brand-new school and I have my least favourite lesson six times a week, and only one double period of it. I coughed and wiped tired eyes. I'd hardly slept, and when I had finally dropped off, my sleep was fitful.

"Hey, Jenna?" I turned, spinning on my Converse flats. Grace was running towards me, clutching handfuls of paper. A few of them left the pile and floated away with the trail of slipstream that was almost visible behind her – along with the parting of the crowds of impatient students glaring at her. "What're you doing after school? Care for a cinema trip? Need to get out," she yelled. "Weather's pushing me down, need some time to get out of this trance." My best friend- since I moved here, anyway- thrusted the pages she was carrying into my hands. Grace, super organized, brought out a black and gold planner and began flicking through pages.

"Hi, Grace-" I began, getting cut off.

"I knew it Jenna! The Flying Gunmen came out today. Please come with me! It has Zac Efron as the main character..."

I don't think much of the guy, being totally honest. But I didn't know him, I guess. I always do it, but I hate people who judge others before knowing them. I mean, I think Andy Sixx is cute, with the whole pale vampire thing going on. Edward Cullen? Too cliché. Not my cup of tea either- far too... spaced out?

"Spaced-out much? Hey? Earth to Jenna."

"Grace?"

"So, is that a yes?"

"Yeah sure, whatever."

Grace smiled and linked her arm through mine. Looking closer, I saw she had dark circles under her eyes, too.

"Didn't get much sleep?"

"Nah, not enough air ventilation."

"Same. Obviously, it was too hot. 34 degrees Celsius."

Grace nodded in agreement. "Right, so Jenna. You going-" Her eyes opened wide, and she gave a hacking cough, hardly getting time to cover her mouth. I know how she felt, every cough was like her lungs were collapsing. We were close; that would be the reason we had come down we the same cold. The girl stopped in her steps. "J-Jenna?"

"W-What, Grace?" My voice was stuttering, catching in my throat. I shouldn't have asked her what she was seeing because I was seeing it too. Whatever 'it' was. The guy standing up against the biology doorframe. Supposed to be safe, doorframes are.

"Jenna Evans! Grace Wicks! Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee; hearken to Her sweet voice. Your destinies await you at the House of Night!" He lifted a single pale finger, longer than the average humans should be. I don't know about Grace, but a catastrophic amount of pain hit my forehead. I fell to my knees, curling up in a foetal position. I clutched my head, feeling the throbbing sensation encircling my brow.

"Jenn? Jenn!" I opened my eyes. My head was killing me and I had no idea what had happened. "Did... are you awake?" Grace was standing above me, looking shocked. I gingerly reached up and touched the space between my eyebrows and immediately regretted it. I had lucky never been stabbed through my skull, but I guessed this is what it would feel like.

"What... happened?" I began to sit up, gritting my teeth trying to not feel the worst of the sting. I urged Grace to continue.

"Crazy guy, white hair, youngish? Totally hot. How could you I remember him? BAM, I almost died. Well it felt like it at least. Woah, dude, you look like Death."

"I feel like it." Even though my eyes had been open a while, I suddenly saw. "Dude, what the frickin' hell is on your forehead?"

"Look at yours." She pulled out a mirror and showed me my reflection. My hand automatically rose to touch it, before pulling myself back. "See? Even I don't understand it. What should we do? Do you have any concealer?"

"No. I don't, Grace. What practical joke is this? I heaved myself to my feet, looking at the onlookers. "Who did this?" I demanded, pointing to the Mark on my forehead. No-one answered, but everyone who looked in my direction shuffled away as quickly as they could.

Grace pulled on my arm. "Jenn, let it go. You don't need this, we just need make-up and we can live through this. It's nothing, okay babe? Just breathe." I glared at her.

Suddenly, my other arm was yanked out of its socket. Okay, not quite, but it felt like it. I looked down. Man hands. A blindfold was tugged around my eyes, covering the top half of my head. I couldn't see; my breathing pace quickened. Grace let go of my arm. I heard her footsteps chasing after me and my pursuer. I couldn't look up. Even if I could see, the way this guy was holding my arm made it impossible. And it hurt, a lot.

After what seemed like hours, even though it was more like minutes, I was shoved into a damp smelling room. From the scream Grace gave, it sounded like the man holding me had closed the door on her.

I kicked out, connecting with something solid. The man gasped- giving me a chance to move away, swiftly. I backed towards the direction of what I thought was a door, tripped, and smashed my back into a wall. I dropped down onto the floor, my feet knocking over a bucket. Water sloshed over me as I leaned down, bending over myself. I fiddled with the blindfold's knot, and to my surprise, the man didn't stop me; his breathing slowed, but he didn't move. As the blindfold slipped off, I covered my eyes. The throbbing in my head was getting worse, my eyes were getting tired. I wanted to go home and sleep, or at least for the adrenaline that was supposed to be rushing through me to start waking up and working.

"I didn't think I'd get a protestor," a voice told me. I frowned in confusion. The pain was easing off, especially since I had heard this guys' voice. It was so beautiful; deep, but silky, almost... musical. Should I risk a glance at him? I didn't want to crush the image of him I had in my head, and I didn't want to see him with a weapon. Although, he didn't seem like the type of person to carry a weapon- a voice in my head was telling me he was here because he had been pranked, too.

I looked up, and the second I did I felt something crushing against my lips. A pressure, not too soft, firm. I opened my eyes and looked up. A flash of black hair, but he was there. Kissing me. He was holding me, pushing me further into the wall. I elbowed him away, covering my mouth.

"W-What? Who the hell are you?" My voice was low, tentative. I didn't know who this guy was, but as he moved away from me, I saw him smirking. Jerk.

"It's been a long time since I did that to anyone." The guys' smirk grew bigger, as his eyes squinted through the darkness. "You're a blue, huh?"

"A what?"

"You have the Mark."

"Oh, yeah." I thought that much was obvious. This guy was obviously much slower than I thought he'd be. Another first appearance, I guess.

"Me too." I raised my eyebrows. In response, he flicked his long, dark fringe upwards, revealing a blue crescent, a match to mine. And Grace's. Grace.

"Grace. You left her outside, why?"

"I don't know. Instinct." Right. "And anyway, she seems annoying. Hey, you probably have quite a few questions, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Shoot."

"Uh, okay... Why have I got this? Who pulled the joke? Because it isn't funny."

"You're obviously not as clever as I thought you were." Where had I heard that line before? Could this guy read thoughts? "It's not a joke. It's the real thing."

"Oh of course it wasn't," I told him. "Of course, it's real. A Mark just 'appears' on my forehead."

"Actually, it kinda does. Unless you have another explanation? I assume you do."

"Er, a needle filled with a mild sedative was shot at me between the eyes, I went out for a few hours while someone painted this thing on me with permanent paint." I glared into the one eye he was showing. As if on cue, he pushed his hair out of his eyes. And laughed.

His laugh was velvety- if not more velvety as his voice. It filled the room, echoing throughout the small closet. From the bucket of water, I guess at it being a Janitors' closet. Who knew? I smiled at him through the darkness. But frowned quickly afterwards- he had still laughed at my analogy.

The man swivelled his head to look towards the door. "Listen, Jenna."

I gasped.

"How did you know my name?" I shuffled out from against the wall, moving as quickly as possible to the door.

He ignored me. "You and your friend need to come with me."

"If you think I'm going anywhere with a stranger you can think again."

"Name's Alex. Now we aren't strangers. Okay?" No, not really.

I sighed. He was persistent; I'd give him that. "What? Make it fast."

"You are Changing. In a minute, second, or hour, you'll go through a change, just like I did. Basically, you'll become a Vampyre Fledgling. Either that, or you won't survive the Change and you'll die." Nice. Just what I needed. "The same thing will happen to Grace, and then after that you'll be required to go to the House of Night."

"The... what?"

"House of Night. It's a school for people like you and me."

"Weirdos?"

"Vampyre Fledglings. That is, if you survive the Change."

"I see." I stood, to my full height, trying to use my five foot seven inches to my advantage. Then Alex stood up. He must have been at least six foot, if not taller. "Erm, so why are you telling me this?"

"My job. I'm kind of on probation. If you can call it that. Recruiting, I guess."

"For the school?"

"No... let me put it this way... it's not fair people are being chosen to go and get Marked, so I'm there for them, I'm there so that they can smile again and get to the House of Night without worrying too much, etc."

"Right."

"You blatantly need my help as it is."

"Thanks."

"No problem. So you ready?"

"I never said I was going anywhere." This guy had nerve. If my Mother had told me one thing, it was to not be around strangers.

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