The boardwalk didn't seem as fun tonight. Even with me barely going out anymore, the prospect of being so out in the open was better in my mind than in reality. I twirled a match between my fingers as Marko and Paul flounced around in front of me. Dwayne walked beside me, his pinky hooked with mine. David was gone. Drinking... or was it eating?

Sometimes I forgot I was a half-vampire. I barely felt it, really. David said he wasn't sure why, and Dwayne theorized that it might have been because it was only a small amount of blood compared to how much they had drunk. He said most would drink the whole bottle, but they gave me just enough to pull through the accident.

When I first moved here, I truly believed the boardwalk would be my favorite place, but now, it made me scared. So out in the open. So vulnerable. And so cold. Alabama was nowhere near as cold as Santa Carla was.

I pulled Dwayne's hand up, the one I was already linked to, and I kissed his knuckles before holding it close to my chest.

"Are you okay," he questioned as we made our way into a back alley. Marko had mentioned that he wanted to meet up with someone. A dealer, probably.

I nodded but kept his hand close to me. "I'm fine, just a bit scared."

"We'll keep you safe, princess. Don't worry too much."

"I know. I just get in my head a bit too much, y'know."

Dwayne stopped us, and the other two continued ahead of us. He leaned against the brick wall and pulled me into him, hugging me with his free arm. I laid my head on his shoulder and smiled a bit. He was incredibly warm for a dead person. "What are you thinking about now," he questioned.

"He said it would happen when the moon reached its peak. Does that mean the full moon? Because that's only in a few days."

Dwayne sighed lowly and nodded. "Yes, I believe so. I realized that when you were sleeping afterward. We only have three days left now."

"Three days." The words were barely there, hidden in my breath. "Only three days," I repeated louder this time. "Do we have a plan?"

"Hide," he responded. "They can't go through with the ritual if they can't find you, and they haven't found you yet."

"Okay."

Marko came bumbling back with Paul by his side, hand in hand. "The sun's about to start rising," Marko said, jokingly pushing Paul away as Paul tried to kiss his cheek.

Dwayne responded with some affirmation, and he said that we should head back. At this point, David would probably meet us at the cave. At least, that's what Dwayne said. So, we headed back to the bikes, loaded on, and took off down the road.

Dwayne was correct in saying that David would be at the cave, as he was sitting on the edge of the cliff when we pulled up. His headphones were on, and he was humming quietly along to the song when I walked over. I placed my hands on his shoulders, and he leaned back slightly, resting on my legs.

I sighed and sat down, my legs on either side of him. The sun was rising. I could see the dashes of pink beginning to fill the horizon. "You need to go inside," I spoke, pulling back one of his headphones.

"One more second," he responded. So, we waited one more second, and then the one second led to ten minutes, and then we were rushing inside, trying to keep him from the sunlight.

"Goodnight," we both whispered to each other before falling into bed. The others were already fast asleep, and we drifted away with the pull of the sunrise in the back of our minds.

Unfortunately, I was startled back away by the sound of whispers. I didn't understand the words spoken, and I hadn't fully grasped that they were not voices I was used to until I was yanked out of bed. I blinked rapidly, my brain trying to keep up with what was going on. I opened my mouth to call for one of the boys, but someone wrapped a cloth around my mouth, tying it at the back of my head. Then, I was pulled out of the room.

I yelled against the cloth, flailing my arms and trying to get away, but nothing seemed to work, and then the smoke filled my lungs again, and I soon passed out.

I awoke what only felt like moments later in a place I didn't recognize. I was in what seemed like a rickety house. The floorboard creaked underneath my feet when I stood and turned, studying the room. The only things inside were the bed I was on – which was really only the mattress on the floor – and a shelf on the wall.

There was a window as well. I stepped over quickly, trying to stay as quiet as possible which was quite hard considering how noisy the floor was. I tried to lift the window, but when I inspected further, I saw that it was nailed shut. So, I tried punching it out, not caring how much noise it would make, but it did nothing but hurt my hand. I clutched my fist close to me, hissing quietly. That wasn't glass, though it did look to be.

I flexed my hand, wincing as sharp pain shot up my arm, and tears gathered in my eyes. I stepped over to the door, and it was locked as I expected to be. And then tears were falling freely down my face. Where was I? What happened? Who took me? Obviously, I had a vague idea for all the answers, but my chest felt like it was growing tighter, and my breathing was coming out heavier, and then, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I clutched my chest and fell back in front of the bed, crying harshly and trying to control my breathing.

They said they would keep me safe. They said the lost wouldn't find me.

I knew I shouldn't blame it on my boys, but it was all I could think of at the moment. It wasn't their fault. They didn't know, but still.

I slammed my hand on the ground and looked up as the door was open, letting out a cry as I saw who walked in.

Peter.

He gave me a big smile, his eye twitching a bit as he made his way over to me before dropping down into a squat in front of me. "Hello, little dove, how are you?"

I didn't respond, choking back another sob as I stared into his eyes, the rising sun from the window casting a glow into his blue eyes. God, he had beautiful eyes, but they were so empty. Hollow. As if no one was behind them.

"Not very talkative today, huh," he mused. He grabbed my chin between his two fingers and pulled me close to his face. "After everything I went through to find and get you, I would think you would at least greet me. It's been years, my dear Wendy. I thought you would miss me."

"My name's not Wendy, and I don't know you."

His face dropped from his smile, and he snarled at me. "Yes, you do. You know me, Wendy. You know me." His voice was pleading, and both of his hands grabbed my cheeks instead of the one, holding me closer. "You know me, you do. I swear. You- I-" he seemed to lose his wording before he lunged forward and kissed me harshly.

I gasped and pulled away harshly, almost falling backward completely. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling towards an opposing wall. "I'm not Wendy! My name is Ivarella Saint. I'm- I'm eighteen. I come from a town in Alabama with less than one thousand people. My mom was killed by your lost boys, and so was my aunt. I have a weird obsession with matches, and I have four boys that I love deeply who happen to be vampires, and I do not know you. You're a character from a book I read. I don't even know your real name!" I took a deep breath before continuing. "The only thing I've wanted to do since I've gotten to this godforsaken city is to go back to Alabama, and everything seems to be going against me. I'm tired. So fucking tired, and I don't know what's happening anymore."

Peter had risen from his place crouched down and was staring me down as I ranted. He seemed to take a few moments to think before he said a single sentence. "My name is Oliver."

And then he walked out, locking the door on the way.