"You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control."
~Megan Chance~

Chapter Two: At The Top Of The Mountain

"What are you wearing?"

Sam's face is blurred by the rain and Leah is confused. It's like she's looking at him from inside a waterfall and she doesn't really understand why he's here in the first place. He gives her a real smile and she's looking at her Sam again. She wants to cry but she's stuck.

"Lee Lee? Are you awake?"

She nods, then wonders if she's just a blur to him too. "Why are you here?" she asks. Her voice is crackly and raw and she can barely feel her tongue.

He raises an eyebrow in the same way that Sam always did but doesn't do anymore. His grins, all wide and blurry. "What are you talking about, Lee? Are you okay?" His tone has shifted, concern in every note. Leah's head is beginning to hurt. None of this makes sense.

"I don't know," she answers honestly. "I don't know what's happening."

Sam steps through the rain, water dripping from his handsome face and Leah can see the truth. It wasn't real, none of it was. His expression is passive and controlled. His wicked grin is gone. This isn't her Sam...this is Emily's Sam. He grabs her wrist but she barely feels his grip. His fingers are cold, almost leech temperature. "What are you wearing?" he asks again. "Emily needs to know."

She tries to pull away from him but he's too strong. Everything is beginning to blur again, the world around her is spinning. Sam's doesn't seem to notice how dazed she is, he only tightens his grip. "There are arrangements to be made. Everything has to be perfect. What are you wearing?"

His voice is getting louder, more urgent and the sound vibrates through Leah's head until it feels like someone is holding it in a vice grip. Sam is still talking, talking nonsense now, that she can barely hear but one word makes it in. One word spins around in her mind. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emi-

Leah wakes with a start. A burst of sunlight hits the back of her eyes and she squints against it. Nausea swirls in her stomach and she lays her head back down. Her face rests against cool, hard stone and she closes her eyes and swallows the lump in her throat as she tries to pull herself together long enough to figure out where she is.

"Shit," she mutters as she manages to pull herself up, head still throbbing, and looks around. She's back in human form, a scratchy blanket thrown over her. Morning air hits her skin where she's let it drop. She breathes it in, hoping that it may somehow rejuvenate her. She feels like a bag of shit and it's been a while since she felt this weak. Physically, at least.

The room she's in is open, giving way to a breath-taking view of the mountains. The décor is colourful and intricate, if a little worn. Only large, thick pillars make a room out of it but otherwise, she is at the mercy of the elements. The nausea has settled slightly and she awkwardly pulls herself to her feet, not even bothering to wrap the blanket around her.

"How long have I been out?" she asks, a grin on her face. She didn't hear him coming but at least her sense of smell is still working..

Her voyeur steps through the open door and averts his gaze. "An hour. We left a blanket for this very purpose," he says, gesturing to her naked form, eyes still on the dragon sculpture beside him. She picks the blanket up and wraps it around her. She doesn't know enough about these guys to push her luck and what she does know, she doesn't like. "What did you do to me?" She asks.

The man turns his gaze towards her. He's younger than she thought. Although, he still has a good more years on her. His head is shaved bare and his brown eyes are regarding her with both curiosity and wariness. "Our apologies," he says in stilted English. "At first, we thought you were one of the dead, a blood drinker."

"At first?" she asks, injecting just enough malice into her voice that he knows she's wants answers. She hides her surprise that he appears to be in on the big secret.

He nods. "Yes, but after we realised, we had to know that you weren't dangerous. We had to make certain of what you were."

"And what is that?"

His solemn expression gives way and he smiles. "A protector."

When she doesn't answer, he continues. "Blood drinkers have been coming to our town for centuries. There was a time when they would wipe out whole villages. Over the years, we developed ways of fighting them and the few who still came here soon learned of their mistake. Our reputation is our greatest weapon but now the dead ones are coming more often, in bigger numbers, taking more of our people. No one in the village is safe. They hold no regard for human life-taking men, women...children."

She snorts and the young man looks surprised. She rolls her eyes at his questioning gaze. "Look, I left that life behind a while ago. If you want someone to protect your village or whatever, you're gonna have to look elsewhere. I'm done with all that shit."

He stares at her thoughtfully for a moment then bows his head. She turns her back on him as he leaves. He pauses by the door. "None of us can change who we are. We can deny our spirit as much as we want but nothing will change." Then he is gone.

Great, she thinks to herself. She moved halfway across the world to escape the spirit and destiny lectures and ends up in this fucking place. The only thing she can't deny is that every waking day brings new evidence that the world really is out to fuck her.

She sits and thinks for a while but it does no good. Each and every memory hurts. Memories of Sam and Emily and Seth. Even memories of her father. The problem is that they're all tied together. When she thinks of one, she thinks of them all. By nightfall, she's made her decision. She'll go offer these monks her gratitude, as is only fair and proper-and much more than they deserve considering they shot her ass up, then she'll be on her way. She looks out at the mountains and winces. That's going to be some rough fucking hike.

The temple isn't really that big but the high ceilings lend a certain grandeur to it that it otherwise wouldn't have. She can't help but stare in wonder as she makes her way through the corridors. The etchings and murals that decorate almost every blank space are works of sheer power and beauty. She tries to make sense of the stories they tell but just when she thinks she's got the hang of it, something random is thrown in. Just like real life.

"Hello?" she calls but no one answers.

She pauses as she hears voices and the clatter of pots and pans. Her stomach grumbles softly but she ignores it and focuses on what is being said. Her Cantonese isn't that good and they speak too quickly for her to pick up all the words but after playing in over in her head a few times, she gets the basic gist of it.

"There is nothing in the legends that mention a woman." The voice is young, and she places it as the voice of a teenager. "There are protectors scattered across the world and none of them are women. None of their histories show that any have ever been women."

The answer is a laugh. Leah can hear the slurp of soup being ladled into a bowl. "History and legend were only possibilities themselves once. What do you think?"

The next voice is familiar, her intruder's voice. "She is certainly a protector...though she has little desire to fulfil her duty. By my judgement, I'd say she's a young one. Without any idea or control of her power. But regardless, she is unwilling to stay with us."

An old sigh, a weary sigh. One that reminds her of her father's complaints about getting old. Longing hits her deep in her stomach as the old man speaks again. "Well, we will just have to find another way."

It's so painfully familiar and she has to bite her lip against the tears. That was her father's way of doing things. Always with optimism however weary that hope was. Nothing was ever impossible, nothing was ever over. Not if you didn't want it to be. She thinks about what he would have said...what he did say one night when even his sense of duty and acceptance were no match for her heartbroken sobbing. "It's okay to be sad, Leah. Just make sure that you're sad on your own terms. Find a way to get over it, not for Sam or Emily...but for yourself."

Maybe she's been going about this all wrong. Denying her destiny while she should be embracing it...on her own terms of course. None of this imprinting crap. No. She's going to be stronger than that. None of the others ever had much sense anyway. They're too busy being in love and protecting their leech friends that they don't notice the destruction around them. They sit in their contentment, waiting for their enemies to come to them.

If they had any sense, they'd realise that the only way to make any real difference, is to go after them first.

It is a different man who comes to find her. He doesn't say anything, he simply stand and waits. She wonders how anything ever gets done around here. Maybe they're all telepathic, like Fangface Cullen.

"What do you want me to do?" she asks, injecting a sigh into her voice because she doesn't want them to think she has given in easily.

"Eat," he says and beckons to the door. She raises an eyebrow. "That's it?"

He nods and says, "Yes, for now."

Leah is having second thoughts already but she lets him guide her from the room and down to the kitchen. There, they shovel rice and soup and vegetables down her throat until she's close to bursting, and considering her appetite and the fact that she hasn't eaten a proper meal for a few months at least, that is no easy feat. There's no conversation around the table and all of them seem wary and worried around her.

She feels more lost than ever.