Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I just like to play with the characters.

Additionally, I would like to thank my wonderful beta, EdwardsMate4Ever, and jaspersdoll, for suggesting the title and other creative input.

This is a Jasper-Bella fiction. It takes place in current time. Vampires are in hiding, but have a more structured society. They take human "pets" for food, and some humans are held in captivity to be bled for vampires. They bottle this blood much like humans bottle beer, and it is sold in the underground vampire clubs and bars. There are a number of "designer" blood labels, some of which are very popular. Bella's blood has been featured in a blend called "LaGuerra" and is the most popular designer bottled blood on the vampire black market.

Humans who have been claimed by vampires have a small tattoo on their wrists to mark them as vampire property. The marks are usually a series of dots forming a small triangle or rectangle. The colors and pattern identify both the Vampire Territory and individual owner claiming the human.

Chapter 26– Kidnapped by the Mexican Coven

The next few months seemed to pass quickly as continued to I attend high school. My sprained ankle healed quickly, though since gym was a required class, I quickly had other injuries to replace the ones that had healed. The coach often commented that was a good thing my guardian, Carlisle Cullen, was a doctor.

I grew used to living in a house with so many vampires. Crazy came frequently, but also stayed away for longer periods. She seemed to be spending more time with Isaiah.

I grew more comfortable having Jasper close all the time, since I was no longer afraid fear of being bitten. Everyone at school now assumed he was my boyfriend, because he never let me out of his sight. He escorted me from class to class, and I began to look forward to seeing him waiting for me outside each classroom, leaning against the lockers. He met my smile with one of his own easy smiles, gracefully pulling off of the locker to join me in our stroll to the next class.

One terrible day, though, we were playing baseball in gym class. It was a Friday, and I had managed to make gym my last class of the day, so if I got hurt, I didn't miss school due to yet another trip to Carlisle's clinic at Forks Hospital. I had been safely stowed by the coach in the outfield, where I was less likely to do any harm to other players.

I had the feeling that someone was behind me in the woods. I turned, but didn't see anyone. A few minutes later, one of the players hit a homerun, and all attention, including my own, was on the girl running the bases.

Suddenly I felt a cold hand go over my mouth as a stony arm wrapped around my waist. I was lifted and carried at vampire speed into the woods. I realized it could be five or ten minutes before anyone on the team missed me. I clawed at the hand, but to no avail.

Within a few minutes, we were at the small Forks airport. A plane was slowly moving towards the edge of the runway. I saw the door being opened, and the vampire carrying me jumped onto it, and the door was closed again. We were quickly airborne.

As I tried to catch my breath, I decided to risk a look around the inside the plane. But when I looked up, I was slapped. Not hard for a vampire, but hard enough to draw blood. I heard a growl, and a finger quickly came over to wipe the blood from my face. I was sure that finger was about to be licked.

I bit my tongue, gently, to keep from screaming. Don't make any noise, don't make any noise, I kept telling myself. I heard hissing and shoving. Apparently someone else wanted a taste, and they were being denied. I worried that if they fought, the plane would be damaged and crash.

Then again, that might be better, as I quickly became aware of a pain far worse than the injured nose. My chest began to hurt, and I felt it was hard to breathe. The longer we were in the air, the worse it got. I wondered if the cabin pressure wasn't set for humans, and I seriously began to worry if I was going to survive the flight.

To try to distract myself from the increasing pain, I sought to get another look at my kidnappers. As they had walked to the other end of the small plane, I finally got a glimpse of them. Dark hair, dark skin. It looked like Jasper's enemies, the Mexican coven he had spoken about, had grabbed me.

The flight seemed to take forever. I wasn't offered, nor did I ask, for anything to eat or drink for most of the trip. My stomach growled at one point, and I was handed a piece of stale bread. I choked it down, since I wasn't sure when I would get another chance at food. It was hard, as my chest seemed to not allow much air, but I vowed to try to keep my strength. I was covered with sweat from the pain from my chest, which soon seemed to be spreading to the rest of my body.

We eventually landed somewhere in the desert, and I was carried off of the plane to a small black car with tinted windows. The vampires handling me were not gentle, and they managed to touch my breasts every time they came near me. I even had one sniffing down the side of my neck. I just kept my head down, and my mouth shut, fighting for air. I was surprised that the problems breathing didn't stop after we landed and disembarked. Had they drugged me somehow?

Don't cause trouble, I kept telling myself. The heat was oppressive, but I was barely aware of it over the chest and body torment.

Soon the car stopped, and I was taken into a large building in what appeared to be a rather run-down neighborhood. I heard a door being opened, and I was dumped onto the floor of a small room. I could smell the awful odor of blood in the room, some of it stale. Someone had been bleeding in here for a while. There were other smells too, primarily the smell of sweat and the stuffy odor of a room that had been shut up without adequate ventilation.

Someone crawled over to me, and I heard a gasp. I looked up to see the Mexican girl from the kidnapper's house back in Veracruz. I barely recognized her, as her hair was messy, her face was covered with sweat, and she was holding a bloody rag in front of her mouth. I soon realized she was spitting blood into the rag, which was why it was stained part brown, part bright red.

What had they done to her?

She looked at me in agony, and then shot a look at the door. She put a finger to her lips, signaling silence, with a frantic appeal. Then she made a sign like she was sewing her lips shut.

I understood. I was to stay silent.

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