Chapter 1

I looked outside through the window; I loved to watch the birds flying in the sky. I didn't dream of one morning to wake up free as a bird and fly away, not anymore. Three years of captivity had taken its toll, I no longer dreamt of freedom. Maybe someone could have called it a Stockholm syndrome, but that wasn't true, I still hated the bastard who had taken away my freedom without even telling me why. Now I didn't care about his reasons anymore, what difference would that make?

I hadn't cried for a long time, not even when I thought about my mom. I wondered if she had moved on already, she probably thought that I was dead. But then again, I might have as well been dead, this house was my tomb. I had been 15 when he had taken me, now I was 18 and I hadn't left from this house for the last three years. There were no locks on the doors, no bars in the windows, but still I couldn't leave. Funny, I had never believed in boogeyman, but he was close enough. A vampire. Who would have ever known? If someone would have told me four years ago that vampires were real, I would have laughed.

"Riley?"

I didn't startle, I had got used to people walking into my room without knocking, why would they care about my privacy. Carelessly I turned to look at my jailor, the middle-aged witch called Vera. I hadn't believed in witches either, but that wasn't the only thing I had been wrong about.

"What?" I muttered.

"Tristan is here to see you. He is waiting downstairs."

Oh great… He had been away for a while and I had been glad about that, but of course it was too good to last.

"What does he want?" I muttered.

Vera frowned.

"Watch your tongue, girl. He's in a good mood, don't ruin that."

"Whatever," I huffed; I didn't care about much anything these days. What did I have to look forward except more endless days, weeks, months, years in this damn house? Sure it was a big house, my room was nice and all my basic needs were taken care of, but none of that changed the fact that I was a prisoner. My mom and I have had our differences, but I loved her and missed her. She had tried her best after my dad had left and I certainly hadn't been the perfect child. My last words to her had been "I hate you". I would have given anything if I could have taken those words back, but I would never be able to do that.

"Come on," Vera said impatiently. "You know he doesn't like to wait."

Reluctantly I stood up, there was no point trying to dawdle. I would just have to go and see what he wanted.

3 years earlier…

Stupid alarm clock… I turned it off and buried my face under the pillow. I could just go back to sleep and skip the school… No, I couldn't, I would be expelled if I would skip any more classes. So what, who needed school? I sighed and got into a sitting position. My room was very small and my only furniture was a bed, a bedside table, a small desk and a closet.

The whole apartment was sleazy, but it was all we could afford. I picked up my jeans from the floor and tried to look for my t-shirt. It was under the bed with my math book and an empty soda can. Maybe I should consider cleaning up around here… Nah, why bother. Carelessly I went to the small bathroom and I brushed my teeth and hair, I didn't feel like putting on much make-up. The TV was on and mom was sleeping on the couch, there was a full ashtray and a half empty bottle on the table in front of her.

"Mom?" I said. "Mom, I need lunch money."

"Check my purse," she muttered without opening her eyes.

"Where's your purse?"

"I don't know…"

I huffed and looked around; I found it from behind the couch. Unfortunately she didn't have any money in there.

"Mom, there's no money."

"What do you want me to do about it?" she muttered sleepily.

I clenched my fists; I was already in a bad mood.

"You could get your ass off that couch," I snapped.

She opened her eyes and glared at me.

"You ungrateful little… Do you have any idea how many sacrifices I've made for you?"

"Right, sure… drunk."

"What?" she shouted and jumped to her feet. "Shut your mouth!"

"Why don't you drink some more, that's your answer to everything!" I shouted back at her. "No wonder dad left!"

Her face went blank, I knew that had been low, but I didn't care, I wanted her to suffer.

"Get out!" she shouted.

"Fine! I hate you!" I shouted back and grabbed my hoodie and my backpack on my way out. I already regretted saying those things to her, but I didn't turn back, I would go to the stupid school. Tears were burning behind my eyes, but I didn't let them out. Angrily I marched down the street; my bike had been stolen a while back. I hated going to school, I hated my crappy home and I hated my life. If I could just get away… I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the car that stopped next to me.

"Madeleine!"

I didn't pay any attention to the man's voice, not before he stepped in front of me. He was some suit guy who had blue eyes and brown hair; he was staring at me disbelievingly.

"Madeleine?"

"My name is Riley," I muttered and tried to get past him, but he stepped in front of me.

"Impossible…" he muttered.

Was he a junky or something? I tried to get past him again, but he blocked my way.

"Would you mind?" I snapped. "I'm late from school."

He smiled.

"Perhaps I could offer you a ride."

"No thanks," I muttered, did he think that I was an idiot? Creep…

He grabbed my chin and I saw his pupils dilating. Oh great, he really was a junky.

"You will get in the car…" he started, but he didn't have time to finish his sentence when I kicked him between his legs, making him to growl in pain.

"Get off me, creep!" I shouted and tried to run past him, but someone else blocked my way. This other guy was tall, he had black hair and dark eyes, he grabbed me a shoved me into the car before I managed to scream. The suit guy was next to me in a second, he didn't look pleased.

"Drive," he said to the dark-haired guy.

I tried desperately to get out, but the suit guy grabbed my hands.

"I would stop moving right now if I were you," he stated menacingly. "Foolish girl…"

I swallowed, despite of my anger, I was smart enough to be afraid.

"I'm sorry," I said as calmly as I could. "I shouldn't have kicked you, I'm sorry."

He didn't say anything; he simply observed me. His grip was viselike, he was hurting my wrists.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "This was just a misunderstanding, thank you for dropping me off to school."

"Oh, I'm afraid you are not going to school," he said. "I have other plans for you."