Chapter One

A couple of things to note: Obviously I have ignored certain events that took place in the books, because that's what fanfiction is all about- having your own way I have also changed the decisions of certain characters, which might in turn bring about differences in their personalities and character. Again, within the realm of fanfiction we can do as we like. If the characters aren't so in character, it doesn't necessarily mean a lot to me. I just wanted to have fun with an idea.

"We done for the night then?" Enver asked, pushing the buttons to take the lift to the top floor of the building where their rooms were. Mr Crepsley nodded.

"Yes, get some rest," he said, glancing at the rip in her shirt. "You fought well," he added, the closest thing to encouragement he could manage in his voice.

"Thanks," Enver sighed, leaning against the back of the lift. She was exhausted, and in pain. Darren smiled at her from the other side of the lift, the same exhaustion in his eyes. After a few moments of silence the lift made it to their floor, and one by one they exited it, making their way to their relevant rooms. They had rented rooms that opened into one another, making it easier to communicate and keep watch over one another. Enver unlocked her room, walking into it and flicking the light on. Closing the door behind her she sighed again, clutching her side where the rip in her shirt revealed an abrasion. It wasn't deep, but hurt fairly. She'd been lucky. Harkat had knocked aside the blade that had caused it, before it had had a chance to do any more damage. If it hadn't been for him, goodness knows what would have happened. But that was the nature of the fight- they all looked out for one another.

Going to the bathroom Enver looked for a first aid kit. Being down in the tunnels meant that they all had to clean even minor wounds as soon as they got back, to prevent infection. Trying to unzip the little kit she carried, she cursed. It was impossible to do it one-handed, but she was trying to stop the cut from bleeding with her other hand.

"Need some help?"

Enver froze. Narrowing her eyes she wondered whether or not to scream. If she did Darren and the others would come straight away. But that wouldn't be quick enough. Turning around slowly, she leant against the sink for support. Steve Leonard stood in the doorway, his scarf wrapped around him, his hands in his overcoat pockets.

"What are you doing here?" Enver snapped. "You got a death wish?"

Steve smiled. "No, I just... I wanted to see if I could help."

"Er... did you forget the part where you played us? We don't want your help."

"I know you don't want it," Steve said, sighing. "But you need it. I know more about the people you're fighting than any of you. And I didn't play you," he said, walking into the bathroom slowly. "I told you the truth when the time was right."

"Really? Cos it felt like being played," Enver mused. She watched Steve closely as he stopped a few feet away, smiling slightly.

"You all take things so personally," he said. "I'm no different to Crepsley and the others in putting the interest of the clan first, before one person. Or a group of them."

Enver raised her eyebrows.

"I'm going to break your face," she said blankly. "I really want to."

Steve chuckled, walking towards the counter next to the sink, where the first aid kit rested.

"Yeah, OK," he said, sighing. "I'll even let you if you'll be nice to me after."

She rolled her eyes.

"What do you want?" she repeated her earlier question.

"Answer's still the same," he said, looking at her intently. "Let me help you."

Enver hesitated. "You know, it's fine... I can just get one of the others..."

Steve nodded, a sad look in his eyes.

"Look, if you really don't want me here, I'll go, but I'm trying to make things right."

"I know," Enver snapped. "But it's just not always so simple. I can't just... not feel things. When you... when it seemed like you'd betrayed us..."

She turned towards the sink, looking down into it as she leaned against it, wincing.

"I know," Steve said softly. "And a thousand times... I'm sorry."

He unzipped the first aid kit, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. Standing next to her, he hesitated, then moved forward a little, reaching for the bottom of her shirt.

"Can I..." he said quietly. Enver hesitated, still looking down into the sink. Eventually she nodded slightly. Steve lifted her shift just enough to expose the cut and unfolded the antiseptic wipe, applying it gently.

"Ow..." Enver flinched sharply, colliding with him. He caught her, supporting her so that she didn't fall.

"Sorry," he said. "Probably should have warned you."

"Well, I probably should have known," she replied. "I wasn't thinking..."

"Come on," Steve said, half lifting her and leading her out of the bathroom. "Lie down and I can do this properly. Then you can sleep."

"Dude, no way," she laughed. "I need to have like eight hundred showers and a few baths. It's nasty down in those tunnels."

Steve laughed.

"Well then, lie down, I'll finish and then you can have your endless baths. If you're lucky I might even run one for you."

"Sweet. There's bubbles." She winced again as he laid her down on the bed, and leaned back into the pillows.

Steve retrieved the first aid kit, taking the toothbrush mug out of its holder to fill it with fresh, warm water. It wasn't much, but for now, it was a start.

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Enver lay in the bath, the hot water bliss on her aching muscles. It was one of the best feelings in the world. Steve had been true to his word and had run her a hot bath, and though the cut still stung, it was clean and safe. A knock at the door jerked her awake, just as her eyes began to droop.

"Enver?" It was Darren.

"Yeah?" she called.

"We're meeting next door briefly, when you're ready. Everyone's back."

"OK," she said, sitting up slowly. "Won't be long." She wondered if Darren's everyone included Steve. Did they know he was here? She wrapped herself in a large, fluffy white towel, and then deemed herself too tired to get properly dressed so pulled on the over-sized bathrobe over the top of it. She was decent. It would do. Opening the bathroom door, she saw that Steve was not there. Making her way into the room next door she was surprised to see that he sat in an armchair in the corner. Looking around, she noted the presence of the entire group. Vancha perched on the window sill, Kurda to his left, pacing up and down. Mr. Crepsley sat in the other armchair, with Harkat and Darren sitting on their respective beds. Arra Sails was by the door, leaning against it. She was the newest addition to the group. Looking around for somewhere to sit, she nodded to them all.

"Here, there's room here," Darren said, gesturing to the other end of the bed that he sat on. "Just don't make my pillow smell like girly perfume," he grinned. She laughed, perching next to him. Glancing at Steve she was surprised to find him looking back at her, a strange expression crossing his face.

"Sorry if I made you all wait," she said, looking away.

"Oh don't worry," Mr. Crepsley said. "I myself was about to indulge in a warm bath, and the others have only just arrived. We have called this meeting because we wish to discuss recent developments with the newcomers."

He proceed to explain the events of the past few weeks, which he, Darren, Enver and Harkat had spent searching the tunnels for the vampaneze. After about half an hour, Enver was excused, and slipped away to her room to sleep. When she had gone, nobody moved in the room full of vampires. Mr Crepsley sighed and Arra Sails moved to sit down.

"So, who's the girl?" she asked, before Vancha or Kurda could. The three of them had travelled from vampire mountain that day and had never met Enver before that night.

Already having anticipated the question, Mr Creplsey sat back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. Kurda and Vancha looked to him along with Arra.

"She is possibly our only hope against Tiny."

They were silent for a moment.

"Ok," Vancha said gruffly. "Explain..."

"We found her when Darren was forced to attend that infernal school. She was a lonely, bullied little thing, unable to fit in and appear normal. Much like Darren, actually."

"Yeah, minus the bullying," Darren grinned, remembering how he had dealt with Smickey Martin.

"Yes. Minus that." Mr Crepsley frowned, continuing his story. "Darren befriended her after saving her from a gang of vicious girls one afternoon. It wasn't long before we figured out why she didn't fit in. She is... different. Then one day, Desmond showed up, in an odd sort of state. He was... bothered. When he saw Enver he turned positively ghost like. He did not say anything, but it disturbed me, so I sought out lady Evanna on the matter."

"Ah, how is the old girl?" Vancha grinned.

"Her usual self," Mr Crepsley said, visibly stiffening. "She told me that Enver is one of the very few things on this planet that can drive fear into the heart of Desmond Tiny."

Arra snorted.

"How does she do that?" she snapped. "She's just a weedy little thing. She doesn't look like she could win a fight with a scarecrow."

Vancha shifted in his seat, curious, and Kurda stopped pacing and stood still, looking at Mr Crepsley.

"She may not be the world's best fighter, Arra, but she can do something that none of us can."

"What?" Kurda asked, voicing their combined intrigue.

Mr Crepsley looked very serious.

"She can evade him, and she does not conform to his predictions about the future."

Vancha laughed.

"No way, Larten. He hasn't been wrong in centuries. Well, ever actually. As long as any living vampire can remember he has been right every time about the future."

"That's as may be," Darren spoke up. "But Enver has proved him wrong twice in her lifetime. He found her when she was a baby- we don't know where or how, but something about her frightened him then and he cursed her. He thought he had killed her, but when he saw her the other day he looked the closest thing to afraid he is capable of. Evanna told us that she has twice defied his attempts to kill her, thus avoiding the future predicted for her. And him."

Vancha sat forward in his chair and Kurda leaned against the wall, deep in thought.

"How is that even possible?" he breathed. "And what do you mean, she can 'evade' him?"

Mr Crepsley cleared his throat, leaning forward.

"He cannot locate her, as he can us, or anyone in the world for that matter. Indeed, it seems as though he has no power over her."

Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Then Kurda broke the silence, a look of deep concentration across his features.

"You say he cursed her? And it had no effect?"

Darren stood up slowly.

"Well, not strictly," he said, clearly uncomfortable. "She... can see the future as it will play out adverse to the way Tiny sees it... but she cannot speak of it."

"What?"

"Tiny's curse took away her voice when it comes to the future. She can see it but she cannot communicate it. It seems as if she doesn't understand it- she just thinks of it as dreams. In reality it is the way the future could happen, if we do the opposite of what Tiny tells us to do."

"We?" Arra said.

"Well... Evanna says that Enver could be... a weapon. She doesn't know it, but she could be our best chance of winning the war. Up until now we've had no choice but to trust Tiny, and we haven't known of any alternate future or any possibility of it being different. Now we have an advantage, and he's worried. We are no longer the puppets he plays with. We have... choices."

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