A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews everyone! I love to hear what you think of it, it really makes my day to hear from you. If you want, you can check out some of my other stories, but they're more rudimentary than this one. The one I would really recommend is Wish Upon a Star, co-written with Badass Hathaway. Enjoy, and keep those reviews coming!

The Unread
Chapter Two: Defence is the Best Offence

We had run all night, but now we could run no more. Thanks to the hole in Lissa's bike I let (well, made) her ride on mine while I ran beside her, until the morning light was too strong for Lissa to continue further. After that we camped out at the train station, got on the train to LA (which was as far as we could go without crossing over) and sat, waiting. It was then that the memories and experiences of the night caught up to me, rushing through my head like a flood – insurmountable, unstoppable.

Why had she done it? It was like she was possessed, a different person and that scared me. Then again, I guess I had changed a bit too; being all responsible and having Lissa take action instead of me. And taking deep breaths? Calming down? All this being-on-the-run stuff must have been getting to me, but obviously not as much as it was to Lissa. She hadn't said a single thing until the showdown in Portland and her face was drawn and paler than usual. It was like she was under a trance, and I'm sure that if I could know what she was feeling she would be as confused as I was about her actions.

It was all so hard, but I knew things could have been worse, so I stayed quiet until we came two stops from Nashville, Tennessee where we stepped onto the platform into a cloudy, misted autumn day. When we were safely off into a side street Lissa finally got up the courage to confide in me. I knew it was only a matter of time, but it took longer than usual after what had happened.

"Rose ... I'm so sor – " I cut her off as she collapsed into me, her muddied blouse, now more brown than white, wet with tears.
"Its okay Liss, it's over now. I don't know why you did it, but it's over. "There was so much that was unspoken in those sentences, but I think Lissa understood. I fingered the rose necklace around my neck absentmindedly after Lissa's sobs had quieted down. The pretty gold and ruby pendant was given to me by Prince Victor Dashkov nearly two and a half years ago, soon after the accident that left Lissa the last of her kind. She had also been given one, with a platinum chain and blue topaz in the shape of a forget-me-not, which was a constant, if slightly painful reminder of what we had left behind. Well I wasn't sorry, and I liked my necklace - it went with pretty much every outfit.

But now it was over with, we had to get out of sight. It was only a matter of time before the Russian guy came after us, and by now he would be p****d (rhymes with hissed) off. We found a hostel and checked in for the night. I was sure it wouldn't be long before we would have to sell the necklaces, maybe for university entry fees, but it would be a stretch. We would have to be running further and faster than this to escape from the Academy completely. It was far from over.

We spent a week like that, in hiding. We didn't speak to anyone besides ourselves, didn't engage with others and never looked a person in the eye on the street, not that we were on it very often. We cut ourselves off; we didn't want to be discovered. I don't think either of us would have had the strength to fight them again. Lissa especially, all of that compulsion had taken its toll on her and she burst into tears a few times every day. She was an emotional train wreck, and I was struggling to be the strong one, to keep it together. I like to think I succeeded, but on the last day of our stay, a Friday, everything came apart.

We had checked out of our square-inch hotel room at eight o'clock and were making our way down a side-street to an ATM where we could hopefully withdraw enough of her inheritance to make another real life somewhere, out of America if necessary. Liss had done the research, we could go anywhere within the borders and chances are the guardians or at least the Psi Hounds could get us at any time. But if we used fake names and spent some money on a new hair style or two we could pass unnoticed and board a plane. Overseas the hounds could never trace us, and the Royals couldn't exactly let them in an airport, so ... it was perfect. Defence is the best offence, after all.

So as we were edging down this side-street towards freedom I spotted something that made my heart sink deeper than the Titanic on a good day. Here was my iceberg now, complete with that typical brown leather duster (yes, Lissa had Googled it). Mr Russian Guy was back, but on his own this time. He must have been scoping out the territory, one of the first tricks we learnt as guardians back at the academy. The catchphrase for this was 'make it your own home turf.' Pretty much say it all, doesn't it? If you know the place you're fighting at, know every escape route and place to hide, you're that much closer to winning.

But if he scoped us out than it was all over, so I urged Lissa into a dark alleyway and told her the situation. At least she wasn't going to compel him – even if she'd wanted to I was right when I bet he had a high resistance to it. We crept around the street corner and went towards the bank. At least if he grabbed us in there he would be dealt with accordingly. But there would be a lot of questions ... oh well, best just to avoid him. It was night-time; he couldn't pull anything serious without the police patrols being onto him in a second. Of course, a 911 call from yours truly wouldn't hurt.

That plan worked right up until we came to the ATM. Lissa had memorised the PIN number and we had withdrawn enough to keep us in air fares to Washington then make some other transactions. Lissa had planned this part to perfection – I was only in charge when there was violence involved, and now that my feeding induced endorphin rush was over I was looking forward to some action on what would be a very boring trip otherwise. In my mind, taking out the Russian Hathaway-style would definitely brighten my day. But Lissa's safety was more important that my Russian guy vendetta, so I held myself back.

That is, until he appeared from behind and, clamping two hands over our mouths, took Lissa and escaped into the night.
Oh, he was going to get it now.

A/N: Well, that's it for now! I'm not going to be writing every day, it's up to how many reviews I get how much I write. Please review! - AD