My body . . . It's on fire . . . !

My eyes flew open as I sat up straight and screamed, louder than I even thought possible.

"What the—" but my tongue . . . it felt funny. It couldn't function with the two pointy objects that scraped it when I tried to say the nasty words I planned to lay out on Drake.

Tentatively, my hand reached for my mouth. My fingers met my canines, which were longer than they were early today. My hand began to shake and my eyes started to water.

"Shh, my love. It's only for the best. You'll grow used to your newfound abilities. You'll find your different than most."

I looked up at Drake, hovering over me like a hawk hovers over its prey before diving in for the kill. I cringed as he knelt beside me, and when he touched my shoulder I shoved my body backward, to get as far away as possible from the man who tricked me . . . again.

Only, when I jumped back, I landed several yards away from him, against the wall of the gym. I couldn't possibly push myself this far, if I was human—which I'm not anymore, apparently.

"What did you do?" I asked once again, my tongue fumbling around the sharped teeth. I closed my eyes, begging it to be a nightmare, one of those nightmares you believe to be real until you wake up.

"My blood flows within your veins now, Zoey." He chuckled. "I am rather surprised. The change was rather quick and nearly painless."

Nearly painless? Ha! The fire still burned in my body, causing me the desire to itch all over. But I didn't give in. Not until I awoke from this mess and continue with my plan to run away, far, far away.

My eyes opened slightly, and met with ones of pure black.

"Let's see what you've got," he hissed, "my Queen."

Anger I'd been suppressing suddenly unleashed. "I'm a human, human for Christ sake! And I am to remain human! This isn't supposed to happen! I'm human. Human! I refuse to be a fucking bloodsucker. I refuse to kill people. I refuse to drink the blood of the innocent. I most definitely refuse to be anybody's Queen! Especially yours!"

My fist slammed into his chest and he was sent backwards. His limbs flailed about in the air, yet his landing was graceful. He crouched and leaped back into the air, his teeth bared and his arms ready to strike.

Hot tears ran down my cheeks and my body flared with anger. I couldn't allow this to happen to me. I couldn't let him win. I will never be his queen.

I met him halfway in the air; my leg struck out and made contact with his shoulder. We came back down to the ground in a tangled mess of striking fists and feet. We could have fought for hours, days even, and I wouldn't notice. My mind was blurred with hatred and fear. Fear of becoming one of them. People live for this shit, beg to be turned and be a vampire. But I've seen what happens to those who change and kill for the joy of it. Example one: Danica. She can be Drake's damn queen. I don't give a flying fuck. All I cared about at that moment was Drake—dead.

. . .

Abbey watched the manor carefully, noting all the guards that patrolled the area. There were at least five patrolling the front and possibly four to six guarding the back. Two out of each group had dogs, most likely.

But that was the least of Abbey's worries. She heard screaming not moments ago. She had been prepared to jump into action, but Blade kept her logic in check. If she attacked minutes before dawn, they were done for. She had to wait five more minutes before leading the group into the manor. Five agonizing minutes until she could hold her niece, her last connection to family, in her arms, begging to God that she's still breathing.

Abbey closed her eyes, took a breath and watched the horizon, pleading the sun to hurry the fuck up and rise already.

. . .

Somehow, I don't know exactly how, I landed on my back and fainted. When I woke, my arms were bound, as were my legs, to a wall in a room. People stood around me, servants of the household. I screamed, my throat burned and my body felt like fire coursed my veins.

"Release me," I growled. Many stared at me like I was an interesting piece of art at an exhibit. I swore to myself that if someone dare come near me, I'd bite off their heads and spit it into the fire.

No one moved—except one. It was a miniscule move, and I wouldn't have caught it if not for my extremely heightened reflexes. Cynthia nodded at me. Such a small nod and a gleam in her eyes like she knew something I didn't. I hardly seen her since the night I met her. She seemed better fed, color in her cheeks and healthy glow about her. I noticed Cat next to her, tears in her eyes. My glare went from her to the man who stood directly in front of me.

"You," I sneered. "Release me."

"I must apologize, Mistress Zoey. Master Drake has forbid us to do so until he returns."

"Then why are you here?"

The man swallowed. "We do not know yet, Mistress."

I growled at the title. "Then leave."

"We cannot. Not until Master Drake allows us to."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Leave me!" I shouted. "I want to be alone!"

"That's not possible, my love."

The servant crowd split like the Red Sea as he walked toward me. I spat on Drake's boots as he approached where I stood, bound to the wall.

"How are you feeling, my dear?"

"Get the fuck away from me." My teeth had retracted, I noticed. But how they did, I couldn't comprehend. "All of you leave! And untie me!"

The servants had a confused look on their faces. I realized I had just told them to do two things that rather contradicted each other, but I didn't care. I wanted to leave, but with each passing minute it seemed less likely.

"They will not leave unless told to do so," Drake said calmly, "by me."

I sneered at him. "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm trying to feed you. Tell me, which do you prefer to eat: the cook, the butler, one of the maids? Or maybe, you'd like to have them all? That would be a treat."

"I refuse to drink."

"Then you will die."

I glared into his eyes. "So be it."

. . .

Caden paced back and forth, waiting the moment when the sun rose over the hills and shined onto the manor with all its glorious heat.

Nick, Joel and Cody leaned against the car, all three seemingly completely calm, carefree. Caden's nerves were bunched and his mind was whirling and they were calm? How disgusting.

But why was he so . . . nervous? He's never been nervous before in his life. Not once. He had nothing to be nervous for.

And now he did . . .

Zoey, he whispered into the wind. Hang on. We're coming.

. . .

Drake pointed to each servant, saying each time, "This one?" making it sound as though we were shopping for a prom dress. I gritted my teeth, denying each person.

Then he came upon Cynthia. I stared into her eyes, hesitating a moment when I saw her pupils roll down then up, a silent nod that wouldn't catch Drake's attention.

"Ah," he said. "The cook's helper, fancy that."

He pushed her forward, taking my silence as a yes. She stepped up and he patted her head, like she was a pet that was to be rewarded; rewarded with death, but not by my hand.

Drake's hand touched my own and he lifted it to press it with a kiss. "Now my sweet," the bonds suddenly fell away from my hands and my feet, "you feast!"

He shoved me toward Cynthia. Without even a hesitation, I grabbed her and made for the door, certain we'd make it before Drake could react. But she was human, making her slower than me and causing Drake to beat us to the door. When he turned around to face me, his eyes were a blood red—no pun intended.

"You test me for the last time, Zoey," he spat.

All I could do before he grabbed me was push Cynthia away from me. Before I could blink, we were in the backyard. When I did blink, we were in the vines. The last time we were here, together . . . I shivered, not wishing to bring back that particular memory.

The sun was rising on the horizon, causing my adrenaline to spike. I'm a sucker now—I could die by sunlight. I scrambled to get out of Drake's hold, but he just pulled me into his arms and cradled me instead of dragging me.

"No!" I screamed. He had slowed down, purposefully waiting for the sun. He would live, whereas I will turn to ash in his arms.

You've tested me for the last time, Zoey.

Oh, shit. I just knew my actions would kill me one day; I was just not planning that day to be so soon.

I screamed on last time as the sun rose fully over the hills in the distance, allowing its heat to strike me and Drake full on. I flung my arms over my head, my last attempt to stay alive.

And that's when I noticed two things:

Drake had stopped.

I wasn't turning to ash.

. . .

A | N: Yay! An UPDATE! Haha.

Again I ask ALL readers to at least review saying YAY or NAY to SEQUEL OF THEY NEVER CAME.

Much Love!

Willow Jane