Disclaimer: I own nothing, expect maybe the plot. The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare and the song Hysteria is by Muse.

Summary:Isabelle is being followed by a certain vampire. But when her stalker saves her life will she learn to be grateful, or will the consequences lead her into a world of dark desire?

A/N: Thanks to Taylor Jade, Tbaby13 and Light and Night for the reviews.

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Haunted

". . . I want it now, I want it now,

Give me your heart and your soul . . ."

- Hysteria by Muse –

Chapter 2 | Hysteria

She dreams.

An angel is standing before her and whispering her name – Isabelle, Isabelle, – but then the angels face falls away, its wings fading from white to black and it's all Isabelle can do not to scream as the faceless monster approaches her.

She jerks awake, even though she shouldn't. She is tired, so tired and all she wants to do is sleep.

"Isabelle, Isabelle," a voice is whispering, but she pays them no mind. She can feel the hard ground beneath her, hear the buzz of the distance, Brooklyn traffic, there is a slight sting in her arm but she cannot open her eyes; they are too heavy. So it comes as a surprise to her when something warm and wet touches her lips.

At first she flinches away, but then something gently caresses her cheek, keeping her in place and she hears them again.

"No, you have to drink. Drink Isabelle," they coax, "it's the only way."

Isabelle does as the voice says – a rare occurrence she'll admit, but something about their deep, velveteen voice makes her want to listen – licking the warm liquid from her lips. She has to suppress a moan. The liquid is bitter and metallic but as soon as it comes into contact with her tongue Isabelle feels it.

Every nerve ending in her body comes alive, burning white hot beneath her skin. Isabelle's eyes fly open. She can feel herself getting stronger by the second as the feeling courses through her – her heart is pumping wildly in her chest.

Her now steady hands grasp the air near her mouth, searching for the source, whatever it is. They come into contact with something solid, firm yet soft – an arm she realises – and Isabelle holds on for dear life.

She drinks greedily, too greedily it seems, as after only moments the arm is ripped away from her and strong hands reach down to restrain her as she tries to follow.

"That's enough," the voice whispers in her ear and she is suddenly tired again, the adrenaline having worn off, her eyes fluttering closed.

It is a strange feeling – like you can do anything and everything in the world you just need to find the energy to get up first. But this is important, she reasons, I have to thank them.

Her eyes flutter open slowly and she has to blink a few times before her vision comes back into focus. And then she is staring into deep brown eyes and it takes less than a second for recognition to sink in.

"Raphael?" her voice is hoarse, she coughs a few times in embarrassment.

He says nothing, merely strokes her cheek gently from where he is kneeling on the ground next to her, a slight smile curving his thin lips. It's unnerving.

"What happened?" she tries again, but as soon as the words leave her mouth they're unnecessary. Everything comes rushing back; the ravenor demons, how there were more than expected, the attack. She hopes Alec and Jace are okay.

"You were attacked," Raphael says, as if they were talking about the weather.

"What did you give me?" the question is measured, hesitant because, to be perfectly honest, she's not sure she wants to know the answer.

Raphael smiles down at her when he answers, still stroking her cheek, but Isabelle sees the way the muscles in his neck tighten when he speaks the words.

"My blood."

Isabelle gulps. She was expecting the answer, so why is she suddenly so terrified?

The next question she has to ask, because, although she doesn't want to hear him say it, although every fibre in her being is telling her not to speak the words she has to know.

"How did you find me?"

It is not what she had originally planned to ask, but his answer remains the same.

"I was following you."

He says the words so calmly, so offhand and it is strangely comforting, but blood is still pounding in her ears; she hadn't expected him to be so . . . honest.

"The blood," she begins, the meaning to his words just sinking in, "Will I be a vampire now?" she doesn't mean to say that either. Isabelle knows you become a vampire – you cannot just drink a vampire's blood, you have to die aswell.

She thinks of Simon, the day he was turned, his mutilated bloody neck and ghost white skin. Dead. Or almost dead at least.

But then she thinks of how she had felt not moments ago. Unconscious? Dead? Her thoughts flicker back to the angel from her dream. She couldn't be sure.

"No," Raphael answers immediately and the noise he makes is almost a laugh, "not unless you die," (So blunt) "it'll be out of your system in a few days."

Oh, what good news, she thinks sarcastically, but she really is relieved.

Isabelle braces herself, letting her hands – firmly planted on the ground – support her weight as she moves into a sitting position. She brushes Raphael off stubbornly when he tries to help her.

She is feeling much better; her heart rate is back to normal, her head is no longer spinning and the stinging pain in her arm is gone. Wait . . . gone?

Poisoned. Bringing her injured arm up to her face, she intends to inspect the wound . . . but there is no wound.

"I took care of that," Raphael answers her unspoken question, rolling his eyes when she looks at him curiously, "you were poisoned and I took care of it."

"But how?" fearing that she already knows the answer, but wanting him to deny it.

Raphael raises an eyebrow, confirming her thoughts.

"You drank my blood?" she guesses she should have expected it from a vampire, but the revelation is a shock all the same.

"I sucked the poison out of your system, it was the only way."

"You already said that."

Raphael smirks down at her.

She had expected him to get angry, defensive maybe, but clearly Raphael is in no way sorry for what he did and she reasons that she shouldn't be either.

"Thank you," she whispers and something squirms inside her stomach when Raphael smiles.

"You're welcome."

"Isabelle? Isabelle!" the call is distance but close enough that Isabelle recognises the voice instantly. Alec.

She turns to Raphael, his dark eyes boring into hers, "That's my brother."

He nods, "I know."

They stare into each other's eyes for the next, lingering moment. There is something about his eyes, a dept to them and she finds that she cannot look away.

"I should go," he says before getting up in one graceful incline, dusting the dirt off of his knees. Isabelle nods, suddenly speechless, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this. I have a reputation to uphold," he smirks, "Our little secret?"

She nods again. Who would I tell?

Another chorus of her name – from Jace this time – sounds in the distance and she thinks about the consequences of telling her brothers. They'd freak.

Raphael smiles down at her, and with a final, "Goodbye, Isabelle," in his velvet tone he is gone, leaving her alone on the hard, cold ground feeling suddenly cold herself.

Eventually Alec and Jace find her, but she lies telling them that she took down the ravenor demon herself and that she'd merely hit her head when she fell. They are making their way past the demons body when she spots its disjoined head and a bloody mess where its neck should be. She closes her eyes, waiting for Jace or Alec on either side of her, helping her walk, to call her out on her lie and tell her that there is no way she could have caused this much damage with just her whip. But they don't, too concerned about getting her back to the Institute and into the hospital wing to notice. And for that she is grateful.

Now she just has to work on keeping it a secret.

. . .

He isn't sure why he lied. He had been following her for the better of the last two weeks – and obviously she had noticed – so when Isabelle asked him if he had been following her that night his initial reaction was to say yes. He hadn't been. It was pure coincidence that he found her when he did. But it must mean something.

Raphael has always been superstitious. Growing up in a religious family was sure to have an effect on him and so it is that he believes a high power has some say in matters such as this.

He and Isabelle were supposed to meet tonight. He was supposed to save her. The thought brings a smile to his face.

So maybe it was coincidence. Or maybe it was God's will. But either way he and Isabelle are linked.

Either way he will have her.

. . .

Isabelle wakes up alone, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjust to the blinding light in the hospital. At first she doesn't remember the previous night and for that short, oblivious moment she is happy – save for the pain in her head and the stinging in her eyes. But then the attack, the blood, Raphael, it all comes rushing back and she feels her stomach drop from the weight of it all.

Our little secret.

Don't tell anyone. I can do that. Because the truth is, she doesn't want to tell anyone.

She is in last night's clothes she realises, so she sits up, intending to go to her room and as the blood rushes through her body, making her head spin, the pain falls away and she thinks that she's never felt so good in her life. She knew that vampire blood had weird side effects but this is something else.

Not one to dwell on these things, Isabelle gets up and leaves the room.

It would be better if she forgot about last night all together.

. . .

When she walks into the kitchen she is met by beaming faces and a loud chorus of "Isabelle!" from Alec, Jace and Clary – visiting Jace . . . again. She smiles in greeting before sitting down, which leads her to answering all of their obvious questions. Are you feeling okay? Is your head better? Do you want some orange juice? Answering yes to all three, Isabelle sits back with a sigh; it's so nice being waited on.

"Well I think you're really brave Isabelle," Clary begins form across the kitchen table, "to take down a demon all by yourself-"

"Erm, I took down two," Jace cut in next to her.

"I know," Clary says, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. Isabelle rolls her eyes at their PDA. Disgusting.

"Here you go," Alec hands her a glass of orange juice with a smile, sitting beside her.

"Thank you."

Isabelle downs the juice in one – she hadn't realised how thirsty she was.

"You know what I don't get," Jace begins, staring at Isabelle curiously. She nods, encouraging him to go on, "How did you do that much damage with just your whip?"

Isabelle freezes.

Oh no, she thought they hadn't noticed that. What did she say?

"Erm, luck?" she jokes and, turning away from them, she feels her face fall.

Jace laughs from behind her, "No, seriously."

Isabelle sighs, leaning against the sink, glass still in hand. Let it go.

"I really don't know," she says, without turning to face them, "I don't remember much."

Lie. She remembers everything.

"Are you sure?" Alec presses, "Is your head okay?"

"Its fine," she says through gritted teeth, squeezing the glass tighter.

"I don't know," he continues, ignoring her, "Maybe we should call a doctor-"

"I said I'm fine!"

Crack.

The glass breaks apart in her hand, cutting through her skin and falling to the kitchen floor. Clary gasps.

In an instant Jace and Alec are up out of their seats and coming towards her.

"Isabelle!"

"I'm fine, really," she bites out through the pain, trying to pull away when Alec grabs onto her arm.

"I'll call the doctor," Jace runs out of the room.

Her hand is burning but still Isabelle struggles against her brother when he tries to inspect her hand for damage.

"Isa- Isabelle! Let me see."

"I said I'm fine!"

Isabelle raises her right palm – the one she hasn't injured – intending to push Alec away, but when her palm connects with his chest Alec moves with such force that he is sent half way across the room where he lands with a thump on the laminate flooring.

The room is silent as Isabelle stares down at her brother, mouth agape in shock at what she's just done.

"Wha- Isa-" Alec stammers, looking up at her, his expression a mirror image of hers.

Clary's gaze flickers between the two, but she says nothing.

"I called the-" It is at that point that Jace re-enters the room, breaking off as he takes in the scene before him, "Wha- What happened?"

No-one can answer him.

End Chapter

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A/N: So I've got a storyline planned out, it will involve Isabelle and Raphael's 'blood connection' and what I mentioned last chapter about vampires and Shadowhunters disappearing but I don't want to give too much away.

So I hope you all liked it and I'll try and update as soon as I can.

:D