AN: Hi! I had made a conscious decision not to interrupt the stories with my irrelevant ramblings but I just wanted to apologize to anyone who had been confused about the previous chapter. I had meant to make the transition into Brittany's 17th birthday clear but I seemed to have forgotten. Anywho, thank you to the people who pointed it out and also to anyone who asked questions in relation to the content of the story. It helps me know what to write in future chapters and gives me ideas. So thanks! All encouragement is welcome! Also, did anybody notice the thing about Sam? Was I too subtle? Or did you already know? Thanks anyway guys!

We'd left the party early, John and I.

We'd left the party whilst it was in full swing and everyone was up on the dance floor, utterly oblivious.

I had briefly – as briefly as was possible under the circumstances – informed John of the past seventeen years of my life. Starting from the day our daughter was born and that demon had appeared, and ending with her being taken away from us as swiftly and coldly as a snap freeze at precisely midnight on her seventeenth birthday.

I also explained what I knew about the wolves, which was, basically, nothing. I finished off speaking about Sam. Saving the greatest – and worst – surprise until last. I spoke of how he knew the demon, defended her. How that night – before my very eyes – he had changed into one of those creatures that aided the demon. I wasn't sure of their intentions, or if they even had any, but they were connected to her in some way.

He seemed to have gone into a state of shock. I couldn't blame him. I hadn't stopped shaking since it had happened. We hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye.

"What do we do now?" he looked like a zombie, with his distant gaze and dazed words.

"I believe that this is where I come in."

Of course it was her. Who else could it have been? I don't know why I was so surprised. I suppose it was because of the fact that she had Brittany now. What possible reason would she have to communicate with us now? What else could she want? What more could she possibly take from us?

"You!" that was John. He didn't realise that being angry, fighting back – it was all futile.

"As you are now aware, Brittany is mine and I will be protecting her from now on." She spoke as though John had never said anything. She was still wearing that black dress.

I suppose it would have been a bit of a waste – spending all that time making yourself look perfect only to get five minutes wear out of it. Those were only bitter thoughts though. She clearly spent little to no time considering what she would wear and probably hadn't changed because she didn't see the point.

"How- how dare you take our daughter away from us? What gives you the right?" he seemed to be struggling. I realised then that he must be trapped in his seat, just as I had been on that first night.

"I have every right. She is mine." Her voice had an edge to it as she responded to his verbal attack.

"Says who? You? Who even are you?"

"Says your wife. And I don't see how who I am is relevant to this situation." She seemed to be enjoying this, at the same time she appeared restless. I guessed it was because she finally had Brittany after years of waiting and was having to waste her time speaking to us.

"Okay then. You have her now. Why are you here?" I asked calmly, trying to sooth the atmosphere lest John spontaneously combusted with rage.

"I am here because Brittany is currently asleep. And when she wakes up she will have questions. I am not stupid. I realise that she will not willingly live with me blissfully in the dark as to who I am. It is for the purpose of easing her fear that I have visited with the proposal of allowing one person – who is neither of you – to visit her and ease any worries she may feel." She had started that incessant clicking of her fingers again, the fire flickering on and off between her fingers.

"Well of course we'd send Tina." John pondered, knowing that she was Brittany's best friend and the only other person that she was close to besides us and Sam.

There was a knock at the door. We really needed a doorbell.

"If you could answer the door, Susan?" she was looking at pictures again, like she had the last time she was here. Her back towards us. For a moment I considered running towards her and smashing her face against the fire. I knew that she couldn't be taken by surprise though.

I opened the door to find – of course – Tina.

"You wanted me for something, Mrs. Pierce?" she seemed slightly dazed.

"I- yes, I did. Would you like to come in?" she stepped inside and followed me into the living room where Santana was leaning against the wall next to the fire – casually looking as though she was posing for Christian Dior in her black dress.

Tina looked confused when she saw her. In the kind of way that said – who are you? Her memory must have been swiped, along with everyone else who had witnessed my daughter being wilfully kidnapped.

"Hello Tina." The demon girl greeted, somehow appearing mere inches before Tina, her face a cold mask again.

"Who- ?" Tina barely managed to gasp out before her eyes were rolling to the back of her head as her legs gave out from underneath her.

Santana had pressed a hand to Tina's forehead which had incited the reaction in the girl. She caught her around the waist before she could slump to the ground.

We waited for a beat – then two. Then her eyes opened and Santana stepped away casually, as if she made girls faint everyday. She probably did.

Tina's eyes found the demons and I watched as recognition flourished in them. "You!" she gasped, her reaction the same as – yet wholly different to – John's. She seemed scared whereas he was homicidal.

"What did you do to Brittany? Where is she?" she was panicking.

"You have been chosen by her parents, Tina. When the time is right, and she begins to question, it is then that you will find her. Until then, do not worry." Is all Santana said.

I watched as Tina nodded and disappeared out of the living room and I listened as I heard the front door open and close.

"Where is she going?" I asked, utterly confused.

"Home. Do not speak to her about what has happened, she will not remember." She told me, her voice bored as she took a drag from her magically appearing cigarette. I had all but lost interest in that particular trick by now.

"How will she know to find Brittany?" this made no sense.

"She will not. Not until she sees her." her logic was annoying but before I had chance to further question her, she was gone.

Brittany

My eyes were still closed. I was far too comfy to even consider waking up. I snuggled further into the comfy blankets. Hmmm.

I had had the strangest dream last night…

I instantly tensed up as soon as I had thought the words. I had read enough books in my time to know that whenever someone thinks that they had a weird dream; it is never just a weird dream.

"I know you're awake, Britt-Britt." I relaxed then, recognising the teasing voice as belonging to Sam.

I opened my eyes to see Sam stood over me, grinning down at me like a goof. I smiled back until I registered the ceiling above his head. It was definitely not my ceiling. My bed had never been this comfortable…

"Sam, what would you say if I told that I had been hypnotised by a pack of white wolves and then fallen unconscious in the arms of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen at my birthday party last night?" I asked in a bit of a rush.

He looked at me sheepishly.

"I would say that you have a pretty good memory." He said, trepid. I guess my story wasn't the easiest thing to confirm. But he had.

I jolted upright. My head felt woozy though so I lied back down again. I looked around the room to see… darkness. Everything was a dark colour. From the dark wood of the furniture to the deep purple of the curtains and bed sheets. I couldn't help but think that it was kind of comfortable though. It made me sleepy.

I thought back to Sam's response. "Seriously? That's… weird." I couldn't work up the effort to be panicked. Besides, if Sam was here then it couldn't be dangerous, could it? Plus, I remembered the ribbon that I spotted on the girl's wrist as we were dancing, and again as here hand stretched out towards me. It was her.

"Where are we then?" this seemed like the next logical step in the progression of our stilted conversation. I didn't no why I was thinking so intellectually. I guess it was because of the bedroom I was in. I felt so… regal.

"We're in Santana's home." He seemed uncomfortable sharing information, as if he wasn't sure how much he should divulge. I wasn't too hung up on that though. One particular word in his sentence had me shooting up in bed again.

"Santana? Is that her name, the girl who came to my party last night? Why didn't she come to wake me?" I didn't know why I wanted her to wake me. Was that normal? Wanting the girl who'd, for all intents and purposes, kidnapped you to be there to wake you up? I should be scared of her. But instead I found myself feeling the all consuming weight of disappointment.

"Yes, that's her. Trust me, she really wanted to come and greet you good morning herself, but she thought you'd need some time to adjust. She's trying to make you as comfortable as possible." He assured me. I quickly nodded along with a smile, realising that he'd noticed my disappointment. I shouldn't be disappointed. I should be scared.

Sam gave me time to get ready after showing me where the bathroom was – it was behind a door that was disguised as part of the wall in my bedroom.

He then showed me to the closet where my clothes were behind a similar door. Except, when I stepped inside, I realised that they weren't my clothes. I had never seen them before in my entire life. But they were my size. I decided not to question it, reasoning that it would be unrealistic for the girl – Santana – to have gone to my home and rummaged through my messy bedroom to find my old clothes.

When I was ready I poked my head out of my bedroom door, unsure of where to go. Thankfully, Sam was there waiting for me.

"Come on." He said shrugging off of the wall he had been leaning on and heading down the narrow corridor. I hesitated, remembering that I should be scared. "I bet that you're hungry." He threw over his shoulder. I quickly followed him after that, because I had just realised that I really was starving. I was sure that Sam would protect me anyway, so it was best to stay with him.

I noticed as we walked down the corridor that the only door was the one to the bedroom I had slept in right at the very end. I had ran my hands over the bare, deep purple walls either side of me as I followed Sam to check if there were any ridges that would reveal to me other hidden rooms like the ones in the bedroom. There were none.

After going through a few more, wider corridors with the same decorations as the first with sparse few doors embedded in the walls, we came to a large room. From the four plush red sofas facing each other in a circle around a big square coffee table and the large fire simmering in a corner, I assumed it was a living room. Although it was much grander than any living room I had ever seen.

The chandelier, for example, set it apart as rather majestic. The floors were made of a dark, almost black wood that I couldn't pretend to know the name of; there was a grand piano set apart from everything else. The rest of the space was empty. If there had been lighter colours then the place would have looked cold in its simplicity but instead the dark colour scheme of reds, purples, royal blues, browns and blacks made the place cosy and welcoming. I should have been scared, not cosy, I reminded myself.

Sam led me through to the kitchen, everything was black and chrome. I took a seat at the counter as Sam went to the fridge. I noticed him then.

He was leaning against the counter opposite mine in pyjama bottoms. He had a platinum blonde Mohawk which made him look unnaturally striking. It was the same kind of stark contrast that I had seen somewhere else not long ago, although I couldn't remember where.

The topless man paused in his eating cereal when he saw me looking at him. He smiled. It was weird, usually when boys smile at me it's in a leering way, but he smiled at me kindly, happily. It was not unlike the way that Sam smiled at me.

I couldn't help but smile back, genuinely. That was until I realised that I didn't know who this man was and that I should probably be scared of him.

He must have noticed my change of demeanour because he cleared his throat, waiting for Sam to turn from the fridge. When he did and noticed both me and topless guy looking at him expectantly he paused for a moment before a look of realisation dawned on his face.

"Oh, sorry! Brittany this is Puck. He's a friend." He told me whilst fixing two bowls of cereal.

"A friend of who?" I couldn't help but say suspiciously. It wasn't a very difficult puzzle to piece together. This was the elusive Santana's house, and the 'Puck the friend' guy was half naked, obviously having stopped over.

I couldn't help but to take an instant disliking to this guy. I mean, he looked way older than Santana. What was he? Nineteen? Twenty? And he was all big and imposing with his bulging muscles, the thought of him touching the delicate girl I had seen last night was just… inconceivable.

I guess Sam must have noticed my increase in breathing because he further explained.

"Everyone! He's a real chatterbox when you get to know him." I think he was making fun of him because Puck just raised an eyebrow at him over his cereal. Even though he had smiled at me earlier, I had to admit that Puck was rather intimidating. I couldn't imagine him ever being a 'chatterbox'.

"Oh." Was all I said.

It was silent for a moment before Puck put his bowl into the sink and headed out of the room, smiling at me again and bowing his head slightly as he left.

"Don't mind him," Sam told me as he set my cereal down in front of me, "He really is a good guy. You can trust him."

"Is he Santana's boyfriend?" I whispered in case he heard me. Sam snorted on his cereal.

"No! Why would you think that?" I just raised my eyebrows incredulously. Why would I not think that?

"Oh. I guess I can see your point. But no. Look sis, I don't want to overstep my boundaries. Maybe you should ask Santana when you see her." He told me.

"And when can I see her?" my stomach tensed slightly at the thought.

"Whenever you want." He shrugged.

I had suddenly lost my appetite. Whenever I wanted? Surely, that would be right away. I had a lot of questions, but still, I was suddenly really nervous at the prospect of seeing the girl I had spent the last few months wanting to meet more than anything.

"Now?" I asked uncertainly, but deciding to bite the bullet.

He stopped eating and looked at me. When he saw my expression he nodded, placing his bowl on the counter and standing. "Come on Britt-Britt."

I followed him again through corridors. I couldn't be certain if any of them were the same ones I had previously passed through because they all looked similar. We stopped at a large wooden door in the middle of one of the corridors.

"Here we are." He told me, waiting for me to make the next move. I nodded my thanks to him as I stepped forward to knock on the door.

I stood listening, waiting for a response.

"Come in." I heard called from the other side of the door in the most entrancing voice I had ever experienced.

I was sure that I hadn't heard that voice before. But, somehow, it resonated so deeply within me; shook me so deeply to my core; I felt as though my very soul had recognised it, embraced it.

I took a shuddering breath.

I took one last look at Sam, not sure if I smiled at him or not, and then opened and stepped through the door.

There she was. Sat behind a big desk in a huge leather seat was the girl I had been waiting for – the girl who had come to me last night – Santana.

She was writing something down on a piece of paper. If last night was a hallucination of some sort, then the reality was even better. I couldn't deny that she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Her dark hair falling over her shoulder as her hand flew across the paper; her plump lips pouting in concentration. My breath caught.

I couldn't tear my eyes away as she rolled up the piece of paper, her delicate wrists twisting and turning as she did so. She stamped down on the paper with something hot before throwing it over her shoulder… where it dissolved into a puff of smoke…

"Hello Britt-Britt." She spoke softly, her mouth caressing my name in a way that made me shiver.

I quickly stopped gaping at the spot where her letter had puffed away and turned towards her, where she was now leaning against the front of her desk casually. I should have been scared – freaked out by the whole situation. But then I saw her smiling gently, almost shyly, at me and I couldn't help but relax against the door I had yet to move away from and smiled back. Just as gentle, just as shy.

"Hi." I all but whispered back. It felt as though there was a secret bubble that we had unknowingly created and anything above shyness and softness and gentleness would burst it.

The smile she gave me next though was so bright that I was sure it should have burst our soft bubble, but somehow, I think that it strengthened it.

We were still stood, the whole room between us. She was so far away that I was still half thinking that she was some kind of hallucination. She was stunning. I was stunned.

"Well then, come over here." She called softly, in that kind of joking way that your grandma says when she hasn't seen you in ages and she starts talking about how much you've grown.

I walked towards her. I felt self conscious under her unwavering gaze.

Once I had reached her she stood up from her desk so that we were toe-to-toe with each other. I realised that I was probably closer than I should have been and was about to step back when I felt her arms around my waist and her head against my shoulder; her satin cheek gliding across my bare skin.

Even in all of the confusion and suddenness of the action, I knew it was her. I would have known that they were her hands around my waist even if I was blind and deaf and the only sense that I actually possessed was touch. I had never before felt this way. The way that she made me feel when she held me. It was a strange thing to think but I had felt the exact same way last night when she'd held me as we danced.

I realised that I had just been standing there, limply as she held me. I hesitantly raised my arms to secure them around her tiny, delicate shoulders. My stomach flipped and my heart swelled when I felt her breathe in deeply before sighing softly, her whole body relaxing into mine as she did so. Her silken hair caressed my cheek as I rested it gently against her head.

I knew that it must have been dangerous to be in the arms of the girl who had kidnapped me. I knew that I should have been scared for my life. But all I could think was:

So this is what it feels like to have a crush.