Ian sauntered up to me, dropping all pretense of the teenage boy he was supposed to be playing. He grinned as he came closer, inches away, and caught the terrified expression I tried to hide.

"It's no use, Bella," he purred, his voice liquid gold. "Tell me what I want to know."

I was trembling and afraid but I held my ground. There was no way I was going out without a fight. "Never."

He swooped down holding his face right next to mine. His grinned widened, contradicting the crazed look in his eyes. I could feel his hot breath on my cheek and I instinctively flinched away. His hand reached out and turned my head, softly, so that I was gazing into his eyes. He clicked his tongue.

"Bella, Bella. I thought you were smarter than that," he mocked. His grip tightened and I quietly whimpered.

I was proud of myself, not giving him the satisfaction of watching me suffer in pain.

His tone turned deadly. "Your parents will be next," he whispered, but it was all I needed to hear.

My hands tightened around each other, my knuckles turning white, as I internally debated. It was unfortunate that he hit the only sore spot I had.

I conceded, tilting my head down, ashamed of myself. I was so weak. I sighed in defeat. "All right."

The night was filled with spilled secrets, and later, screaming.

I sucked in a large breath, filling my tired lungs, and opened my mouth to scream. It came out a squeak and my weak attempt at yelling made him laugh.

"You shouldn't have lied to me, Bella," he reminded me again, as he pulled his hand back to hit me.

I flinched before his hand made contact, my body sore and my cheek bruised. As his hand met my swollen face, I let out a small ooof, tears streaming down from my eyes. I was so tired.

"I'm running out of patience, Bella. Make your choice," he said, lowly, his mouth right next to my ear. It was a good thing, too, because I was pretty sure I was about to pass out. Fear kept me conscious.

I couldn't talk anymore, my mouth abnormally large and cut. I struggled to breath, my nose one big, black bruise. Ian must have noticed how broken I seemed, because he pulled away, putting a couple of feet between us.

He gave his trademark grin and said, "You have two minutes. Us, " he motioned to himself. "or death."

I didn't take him at face value, knowing his promise of death was empty. I was too important to him and his organization to kill off. I was unique and one-of-a-kind. The worst thing he could to me was to beat me senseless, as long as he didn't do permanent damage. I silently cursed the parents I was trying to protect.

He disappeared froom view, but I guessed that he wasn't far off. I carefully, painfully, pulled myself into a sitting position. My clothes were matted with dried blood, and my once-purple shirt kept sticking to me. My long, brown hair was sweaty and dirty and plastered to my skull. I quickly assessed my wounds. A ton of little closed cuts and bruises and a massive headache. I felt worse than I actually was.

One minute left. I didn't bother thinking about the choice I faced, knowing I would never willingly join them. I refused to be used as a weapon of destruction. That left one major problem. How was I going to get away from him? I knew he was one of the strongest of his kind, which was really bad for me. It also meant he was the fastest, and there was no way I was going to be able to run from him. On my best day, I wouldn't be able to run half a block without him already two blocks ahead of me.

I heard the leaves rustle to my left and muffled shouting. I stood up straighter, ignoring the mass of bruises that was my back, and listened intently. It sounded like fighting. The voices moved closer, and I could pick out three distinct tones. One was definitely Ian, but the other two were unknown to me. They were arguing in low, attractive voices and every now and then, a twig would snap, and I assumed they were circling each other.

A light bulb flashed over my head as I realized this was my chance to escape. Eagerly but slowly I raised myself up, using a low-hanging branch as support. I hobbled over in the opposite direction of the noise, still alert. The leaves crunched under my worn sneakers and I winced, afraid Ian and the others would burst out of the forest, coming for me.

I paused for a long second that seemed to stretch into forever and quietly placed one foot in front of the other. All was going well until I was halfway across the clearing and the shouting suddenly escalated. The sound of twigs snapping were close together and it sounded like a haunted opera, harmonizing with the howling wind.

The noises moved together, heading in my direction. The footsteps were too quick, too heavy. It could have been running, but my trained ears knew the difference between human and almost-but-not-quite-human. This was definitely the latter.

The edge of the forest formed a tight circle around me and I whirled around, gasping for an exit. I knew if Ian and the others were concentrating they could pick out my slow limp and find me in an instant. It didn't help that I was only about two hundred feet from where I first began my great escape.

Suddenly, three blurred shapes hurtled out of the forest towards me. Ian reached me first and clutched me to his chest, whirling to face the others. I gasped as I saw them, and not because they were inhumanly beautiful. To me, that was the big, flashing sign that pointed out who they were. The other organization fighting for me.

It was a boy and a girl, late teens or early twenties, but their youthful look didn't fool me. They could have stopped aging at any time, could have been three hundred years old for all I knew.

It was the boy that interested me. He was tall, several inches taller than my 4'11 height. He had mussed, bronze hair and deep topaz eyes. He was slight but built and he was hunched over in a fighting stance, eyes flashing back and forth between the man who held me and me.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, gazes locked. Time stood still as we watched each other. I only tore my eyes away when I heard a growl resounding throughout the clearing and remembered I was trapped in a death lock.

I turned to the girl. She was deathly pale like her partner, but small and short, close to my height. She had cropped black hair and serious gold eyes. She wasn't as captivating as the boy but as I looked her over I couldn't help imagining that such a small, innocent looking girl could never do me any harm.

I mentally berated myself. That was their trap. Draw in the young and the stupid with devastating good looks and wide innocent eyes, turn on the charm, and quicker than you could scream, you were dinner. I knew it was especially important for me to be immune to their tricks.

The grip on me tightened and I wriggled, trying to loosen it a little. Of course, his concrete arms didn't give an inch and I remained stuck.

"She's mine. We found her first," the voice behind me said.

The boy's eyes darted to me and back to the man, before talking in a low, velvet voice. "She's not going without a fight," he promised, his stance stiffening.

The girl's arms dangled by her side. "And you're outnumbered," she said in a high, musical voice.

Slowly, so as not to look as if they had an ulterior motive, they began to move closer to us, step by step. I noticed, so I was pretty sure it didn't escape Ian's attention.

It didn't and he mimicked them, moving us closer and closer to the center of the grassy clearing.

I obviously wasn't going to leave alone, but I wasn't sure who I'd rather be leaving with. Ian or them? Shapeshifters or vampires?

I didn't know who was the most dangerous.