Author's Note: lstvry has requested that I insert some more information about the Cult and Baits and whatnot in here, so if you were confused and can't wait for a better explanation within the story, here it is!

The Cult – A large secret society of 'Witches' whose main objective is to rid the world of vampires.

Baits – A Bait is usually a young girl who is used before the Hunt to attract the vampire's attention. Their job is to lead the vampire to the Hunters. As you can imagine, many Baits are killed relatively quickly, Morgana being an exceptional case.

Hunters – What you see is what you get! Hunters are members of the Cult who's job is to kill the vampire using specialized weapons developed within the Cult e.g. Morgana's dagger Iris.

Chapter Three

My first lesson was Art, with the final two Cullens – or at least a Cullen and a Hale. Rosalie and Emmett, who I had the good fortune to sit around a large table with, fit in surprisingly well with the stereotype of high school jock and cheerleader. Emmett, a truly gargantuan man built like a bear, with a brain just as similar, was friendly enough. Rosalie had a snide attitude, and she was beautiful in a vampire kind of way, with skin like marble and long blonde hair. It was amusing enough to watch Emmett draw crude drawings of stick men and ponies and the like, but I didn't speak to either of them. It was almost sad to know that such a childlike creature was going to be torn apart by my hand. Neither of them seemed to have any kind of supernatural power, so so far Edward was the only one who I was certain of to have a power. A few days should do it, I thought to myself as I handed in the draft of my drawing, then I can move in on the rest of the coven.

The Art teacher, Miss Thomas, glanced at my work, "Nice job, Morgana. It's good to see someone with actual talent in here,"

She cast a glance at Emmett, who had proceeded to sticking glitter onto his palms with a Pritt Stick. "Thanks, Miss." I said, slinging my bag onto my shoulder.

I had History next, which meant another lesson with Jasper. Out of all of the vampires, he seemed to be the most likely door into the family. If only he wasn't mated to the she-demon. My fingers curled around the handle of Iris, lying unsheathed in my school bag. If I had to pick, Alice would definitely go first. I'd like to see her dance her way out of the path of my blade. I released the dagger when I walked into the History classroom, where Jasper was sitting pensively.

"Good morning," I greeted him, lacing my voice with fatigue.

"Mornin' Morgana. You sound tired," He smiled down at me as I sat down heavily,

"I am tired," I lied smoothly, resting my head in the crease of my right elbow and closing my eyes. I made sure that my hair wasn't blocking my jugular, and that my left arm hung down beside my schoolbag, my fingertips stroking the handle of Iris, hidden in my bag. A human wouldn't have sensed the change in him. The sudden, tense stillness of a stalking predator, ready to pounce. The burning sensation of a vampire's eyes trained on the blue vein beneath my white skin. The slow, slight descent of his head as he got ready to bite. His fingers curling, ready to grab my body in the vice grip of a predator. At the last moment, I opened my eyes and stared at him directly in the eye. Burning gold and hard amethyst. Somewhere at the front of the room, a door slammed shut, breaking our bond.

"Good morning class, I hope you're all well and had very little to eat, because today we'll be studying Medieval Torture Devices, in honour of our new student, Morgana."

I looked from Jasper to the teacher at the sound of my name, and smiled in appreciation of whatever it was he'd just said. I wondered if to Jasper, the dominant word in that sentence dedicated to me was 'torture'. The excitement radiating from the teacher was undeniable, and my attention was drawn from Jasper to him as I pulled my hair back over my throat and looked forward. Finally, he couldn't keep it in any longer, "I have a real treat for you all. A friend of mine in the, ahem, Historic Society," He shifted his glasses importantly, "Made these for me."

He heaved a cardboard box out from beneath his desk, and dropped it onto the table. Everyone except Jasper and I leant forward in anticipation. Obviously pleased with himself, the teacher – and I just realized I had no idea of his name – picked up the box, and gave it a shake, "One for every pair. By the end of the lesson I want a full description and diagram of your model from all of you."

He began to move around the classroom, handing out various devices and wooden models of miniature medieval torture devices. How pleasant. Of course, when he got to me and Jasper, he pulled out a...you guessed it...stake. "I think he thought of the other kind of stake when I told him," He apologized, before chuckling, "Isn't it peculiar how stakes were used to kill both witches and vampires?"

He wandered off, chuckling to himself, with both me and Jasper staring after him. I was starting to wonder how much this teacher knew. Either that or he had a peculiar interest with the supernatural, and I just happened to notice it more. To break the awkward tension, I picked up the wooden stake, and twirled in speculatively between my fingers. It was more like a shaved pencil than anything dangerous; however the sharp end did have a rather vicious point, and it was heavier than I expected. I set it down on the table, and started to draw a witch at the stake, despite how much the image upset me. Witches, the Cult, whatever you wanted to call us...

Suddenly, someone hissed at me. My first instinct was to grab the stake and round on Jasper, but before I got to turning to the vampire, it registered in my mind that it was a human behind me that had hissed. Flustered, I stood the stake up in front of me, and turned around. A blonde boy a few tables behind me was grinning at me. I raised an eyebrow at him in question. He held up his model, obviously very pleased with the highly-thought-out comment he was about to make, "Hey, I'd like to see your rack."

Before I could spit out a remark on the size of his stake, Jasper turned on him. "Do not speak to women like that," He growled,

A vampire with manners. No morals though.

Obviously urged on by the presence of a baying crowd of freshly-excited teenagers, the boy sneered, "Sorry, I forgot how you Cullens treat girls. Pieces of meat, isn't that right?"

The comment made my eyes widen slightly. So these humans weren't as blindly ignorant as they seemed. Jasper was on edge, and I realized that my tempting him earlier had only made this situation worse. He wasn't as consolable as he usually could be. His animal instincts had been kicked into overdrive.

"Just shut up!" I cried, trying to diffuse the situation. In my haste to distract them both, I slammed my fist down onto the table.

After that, things went a bit fuzzy. I was vaguely aware of girls screaming, and the boy almost falling back off of his chair. Something had gone wrong, was the only thing I could decide on, but I couldn't fit the pieces together, as if every time I tried to grab at them, they flew away like brightly coloured birds. A solid grip on my upper arm brought my senses spiralling back to dazzling clarity. Pain. Searing pain in my arm. My eyes rolled down to look at my right arm, and all I saw was red. The stake, which I'd so foolishly stood up on the desk, must have been in the way when I slammed my arm down. The wood had impaled itself in my wrist, right to the middle. For a moment, I could do nothing but stare at the splintered wood – that had partly crushed on impact with my arm - sticking out from both sides of my bloody wrist. Blood. This was bad...

This was really bad.

...

Thank you for reading! Please review or I shan't continue

May I just add that I had absolutely no pleasure in Googling 'Historic Torture Devices', so I hope that this was worth at least one review :D