A/N As the last Breaking Dawn film came out a few months ago, I'm not sure how active this sight still is and how many people read Twilight fic's – so please leave a review if you want me to continue with this. Anyway, this is me testing the waters.

Story Rated T for violence, language, sexual situations and torture.

LAWLESS

PROLOGUE

The room is slightly too hot…slightly claustrophobic. Technically, the two people sat across the table from one another are alone, but they can both sense watchful eyes behind the darkened one-way glass that takes up the wall to their right.

Suddenly someone in the room speaks.

"Miss Moore, this isn't going to work if you don't co-operate."

The statement is only met with further silence and David Mathis pulls off his wire-rimmed glasses and polishes them hastily on the bottom of his jumper. He can feel a bead of sweat dropping down the back of his neck and he glances over his shoulder at the one-way glass for the eighth time. He curses mentally in his head. He's more afraid than the girl he sits opposite.

For her part, she's remained resolutely silent and the paper that he's supposed to be taking notes on has stayed blank for the past forty-five minutes.

"Excuse me," Mathis muttered, replacing his glasses onto his head. He stands and walks out of the room, leaving the girl to continue to stare resolutely at the place he'd been sitting as if he never left.

Outside of the room, Mathis feels like he's gone back in time. He now finds himself in a corridor with high ceilings and marble floors that are grand in contrast with the boxy interrogation room with its cement walls and floors and dim lighting. He hurries down the corridor until he quickly comes to another door, at which he hesitates for a second - stealing himself - and pushes open.

It is dark inside, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. Two men stand in front of a window that allows them to see into the interrogation room, to where the girl continues to sit, completely oblivious.

"Is there a problem?"

Mathis bites back a cry of surprise as a hulking figure seemingly appears in front of him.

"Well?"

"She – she isn't giving me anything to go on. This isn't working," he said in exasperation, keeping his dark brown eyes pointedly averted from the other man's blood red ones.

"Nothing?"

"No."

The tall man turned to the other who was still stood by the window. "Then kill her."

"Wait!" cried Mathis, clearly upset. "Wait! Perhaps if she wasn't so scared -"

The man raised an eyebrow. He was too still, and Mathis is suddenly aware of the words leaving his mouth,

"It's just…I see the bruises – the bite marks. They're just teenagers -"

"Are you a Doctor of a Psychologist?" sneered the man in front of him. "Or have you forgotten that we know where your wife and children live?"

Mathis passed a shaky hand over his eyes for a second. "No. No. My apologies – just, just give me the rest of the session at least. I beg you."

The man glanced at the clock above Mathis's head. "Fifteen minutes," he said, smoothly. "If there's nothing – we kill the girl."

"Of course." Mathis left the room, blood rushing in his ears.

As the door closed he heard the two men speak.

"You're going soft, Demetri."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should have killed the fucking Doctor. They start asking –"

The door shut and Mathis swallowed, shaking his head.

Fifteen minutes he reminded himself. Fifteen minutes until this girl was damned eternally or killed.

He sprinted back down the corridor, took a few seconds to briefly compose himself, and then re-entered the interrogation room. The girl's head lifted and the curtain of blonde hair fell away from her face as her eyes flickered to him. A muscle jumped in her jaw, and he could see her hands gripping her knees tightly underneath the table.

Jerkily, Mathis sat back down; smoothing his jumper, and pulling his chair in a little closer to the table. Quickly he picked up his pen and scribbled onto his paper, pushing it towards her when he was done.

The girl's brows furrowed as she dragged the sheet towards her, but as she rotated it to see clearly what he'd written, her eyes widened.

Please. Answer my questions or they're going to kill you.

A gasp escaped her – the first sound he'd heard from her - and suddenly her hands moved from her knees to the lip of the table, bracing herself against it. She visibly crumpled in on herself. "No," she choked out, tears pricking her eyes as they met his. "W-why? What's going on? I don't understand what I did wrong!" She trembled. "Please. Help me."

He swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, dragging the paper back to him.

"I can't. Now, you're name is Jenna Moore?"

"I don't – I –" she was on the verge of sobbing.

"Please, calm down. You're name is Jenna Moore?"

"Yes – yes. I lived in England – London – I don't understand why they took me."

"This is all irrelevant information, Jenna, please just focus on answering my questions," said Mathis, adopting his smooth, calm psychologist's voice. "How would you describe yourself?"

"I don't know. Tall, blonde –"

"Personality-wise," Mathis cut in. How many minutes had passed now? He tried to calculate in his head. Two? Three?"

The girl called Jenna visibly collected herself; her eyes darting to the one-way window and back to his face. "I don't know! Stubborn? Calm?"

The fact that she – like so many teenagers – had barely any sense of self caused his hope to begin to wane. Maybe there's something in her past, Mathis thought.

"Did anything happen to you, anything when you were younger?"

"I had a normal child hood."

His hand clenched round his pen. Maybe his carefully neutral expression gave something away, because Jenna seemed to realize she had all the wrong answers.

"My granddad died when I was small though –"

"How old were you?"

"One – I think. Apparently my Mum was really upset –"

Shit Mathis swore in his head. Shit, shit, shit. "Do you consider yourself a perceptive person?"

"More like persuasive."

He jumped on that. "Persuade me."

"What?!" she asked, incredulous.

"Persuade me of something. Persuade me to do something."

Her eyes sparked. "Why are you here?"

Caught off guard he blinked. "You're wearing a wedding ring," she said. "You're old enough to have kids and yet you're caught up in some terrorist organization of kidnapping young adults. You seem like a nice guy so…why?"

He smirked slightly at her idea of this being a 'terrorist organization'. "Bringing my children into this was a dirty trick."

"How old are they?"

"Isaac is seventeen, Yves was fifteen last week."

"You miss them?"

"Yes."

"You miss them like I miss my family? My parents? My brothers and sister?" she said, her voice hard.

"I would imagine so."

"And they exploited that emotional dependency," she said, nodding towards the one-way window. "Didn't they?"

Mathis glanced to where she was looking. "Please," he murmured. "Don't talk about them."

"Because they're dangerous?"

"You know they are."

Her hands gripped the table a little tighter. "When they took me it was very fast. Very quick. I was alone in the house – I didn't have time to scream. No human could have done that."

"Others…have voiced the same ideas."

"So you speak to other people? You interrogate others?"

Suddenly, Mathis realized just how much information he had given away – the web she had spun round him so quickly.

He smiled. "Very good Miss Moore."

She sighed and leaned forward across the table to fix him with an unblinking stare. "All game's aside now, Dr Mathis - why am I here?" she asked very softly. "Why do you ask me all of these questions? Why did they take me?"

He sighed, ignoring her and turned to the one way window, giving a pointed nod.

As soon as he'd given the signal, the two men strode into the room.

The tall blonde one that Mathis has spoken to before looked at him. "What are the odds?"

"High potential," Mathis said, determinedly avoiding the girls gaze.

"Good," he said, and before Mathis could blink the vampire had pulled Jenna up by her hair and bitten into her neck. She screamed out, struggling hard and the vampire quickly slammed her head down onto the table and she crumpled to the floor.

"Jesus Christ, what are you doing!" yelled Mathis in horror.

"It gets annoying when they scream and struggle like that," the vampire shrugged. He turned to his friend. "Take her to the transition room. Make sure she's checked on in four days time."

He turned back to Mathis, who was suddenly aware that something wasn't quite right. His human instincts driving him, he began to back away from the intimidating vampire; edging towards the door.

But in two strides the man had caught him, and Mathis felt himself being thrown down, face colliding with the concrete floor. He lifted his head and felt blood stream from his nose and mouth. "Don't kill me," he choked out. "I've done everything you've asked of me. Please."

"I won't," purred the vampire yet Mathis was far from reassured. "But this," he said, and Mathis felt a foot on his back. "Is what we do to people that ask too many questions."

He grabbed Mathis's arm and pulled it back until it snapped.

A/N As you can see this is going to be a pretty dark story. It's mainly about Jenna's transition into vampirism and the subsequent chapters will be from her point of view.

Please review.