Darren POV

We've been traveling by bus for the past twenty-four hours. For some reason the cracked leather seats, and the smell of old spilled cherry soda is comforting. This is the last bus ride we'll be taking for the rest of our journey I'm guessing. Mr. Crepsley isn't really a fan of public transportation.

I barely slept on the previous bus, maybe an hour or so. My eyes are heavy and my mind demands sleep, but I can't bring myself to do it. Maybe this is how Harkat puts off sleep so long – the fears of his nightmares are his motivation. Mine is endless thoughts the Lord of the Shadows. It's no question whether or not he is torturing Laney or not. It's what kind torture he's inflicting.

Laney POV

"Wakey, wakey, little lady," I hear a sing song voice call. My eyes creak open to see a slit of moonlight through the now closing ceiling door. Murlough and the boy appear.

"Wow," The boy takes a quick look around. "No signs of escape…you haven't even tried!" He laughs.

"Weak human – Murlough would have tried by now. Murlough is smart. Murlough would have escaped." Murlough says. Darren did say the mad vampaneze liked to talk in the third person to talk highly of himself.

The boy walks over to me in a way that I can only describe as strolling. He even whistles a light tune until he is beside me. My pulse hasn't slowed since being trapped in this place. Sweat beads on my forehead and covers my palms. I can't tell what my expression is. I'm so tired. I didn't sleep a wink today; although I should've, knowing that the boy and Murlough sleep all day, and have their sick fun at night.

"What's the matter? Already given up? Hope you know I even left that door over there," The boy nods towards it, "unlocked to see if you'd tried to break out." My jaw drops, and my eyes fill with angry tears. If I had just walked a few steps, maybe burned my bonds off, I might have escaped…

"Upset? Don't get too torn up over it. We were standing guard all day. We would have gotten you regardless." Is he chewing gum? Smack. Yup, he is. The smell of the mint is revolting. He grins.

"Have any idea who I am yet?" The boy asks with a grin. I glare up at him – or at least I think I am – and his grin lingers.

"Murlough, bring in the painting." He says, still looking at me for a few seconds more. Then he turns to hang the picture on the wall. It looks more like a photo than a painting. It's on a browning piece of fabric. Murlough sticks it on the wall, some sort of sticky material on the back of it, and smoothes it out.

"There's a hint. Good luck. Let's go Murlough. He'll be here soon." He says. Who is he talking about?

Before he leaves, he caresses my cheek briefly. I tense at the cold touch. They exit.

The latched door creaks shut, and I'm only accompanied by the candlelight and the painting of a large cat.

I've never been good with distinguishing the differences between cheetahs, leopards, and jaguars. Just think back. You learned this in the fifth grade. Think…

Cheetahs have solid spots, evenly distributed. This cat definitely does not have spots like that. Cheetahs are leaner than leopards or jaguars. This is not a cheetah – rule that one out. Now I'm stuck between jaguars and leopards.

Jaguar's spots are more rosette…but so are leopards. Come on Laney, think. There is one tiny difference between the two. I'm about to cry again. I'm frustrated. Why didn't I pay more attention in elementary? Right, because I never thought I'd be stuck in this situation. I never thought I'd be held hostage. I never thought I'd be abducted. I never thought I'd travel with the Cirque du Freak. I never thought I'd meet a snake-boy…or vampires. I never thought I'd meet a half-vampire. I never thought I'd meet someone like Darren.

That's when it hits me. When the boy had touched my cheek, it had been with his left hand. His left palm had a scar on it – it was a small cross. Darren told me about one specific person who had this scar; a scar that had been created by a self-inflicted injury...by someone who used to be very close to Darren.

Jaguar's spots are filled in and have thicker black lines…rule them out…leopards have almost the same kind of spots as jaguars, only they aren't filled in, and look "almost like flowers," my teacher used to say…

Steve Leopard.

Steve Leonard.

His revenge plan begins…with me.