Hey guys!
So, as requested, I've started a Marko/OC fic. I hope you all enjoy it :)
(I may or may not continue with this depending on whether people like it or not, and depending on whether another fic comes into mind).
Also, credit (and thanks) for the photo used on the cover goes to Alyster Dark who runs a webiste called 'Alyster Dark's Lost Corner.'

Chapter 1: I know you

Run, Allie. Run for your life.

I could hear them yelling behind me. I didn't try to decipher the words, disrupted by short bursts of laughter. My mind was focused on getting my feet to move as fast as possible away from the bloodsucking bastards chasing me.

And then the footsteps cut off.

Don't look back. They'll catch you if you do. Just run!

But where to? The rational, coherent part of me asked. I was miles from anywhere. And the only civilization around here appeared in the form of a few small cottages and a narrow tarmac path. The worst part was that I had nothing to defend myself with. No stake, no holy water, not even any garlic. How ironic was it that the day I leave my weapons at home would be the day I needed them most?

I turned on my heel and sprinted up the path. Tree branches whipped across my face as I raced up the narrow trail, screening me from the menacing velvet sky. I had about two minutes before they caught up with me. And when they did . . . well, it was obvious what would happen then.

Don't think, just run!

And then, out of nowhere, a hand grabbed the back of my shirt. I flared out, catching something soft with the heel of my foot. I heard a snarl and the hand released me.

I guess my two minutes was cut down to about two seconds. I scampered away from my pursuers in one last desperate attempt to stay alive, choking on the oxygen that wasn't reaching my lungs.

And then a miracle happened. I never thought, not once in my short life, that I'd ever be so glad to see the grey building standing ahead of me. The church loomed slowly into view. Too slowly, in fact – arms flung themselves around my ankle, bringing me hard to the ground before I could reach the lush green turf of the graveyard.

I yelled as my face hit the asphalt.

The same arms that had caught my leg were now dragging me backwards. My bare heels scraped across the dark, stony ground, and I could feel that the skin on them was being torn. I grabbed hold of one of the thin tree trunks to the side of me, and my arms felt like they were about to snap off.

But I didn't let go. My shoulders were on fire, and my whole body was in agony; blood dripped off my face. For a second black spots danced across my vision.

And then the hands let go of me. I gasped and scurried off into the trees, crossing the edge of the lawn just in time.

My body crumpled on the dewy grass. I'd never felt so relieved to be on holy ground. The hisses behind me were proof of the fact that I'd survived, and if I wasn't so exhausted, I would have laughed out loud.

"Not this time, bloodsuckers." I gasped.

I rolled away from the snarls and hisses to be on the safe side, and then my eyes slid shut.

I drifted into a peaceful unconsciousness.

I came around just when it started to rain. The wet, ice-cold drops of water splashed rebelliously on my forehead until I couldn't stand it any longer. I wrenched myself up, and when I saw that I was lying bare-footed in a graveyard, last night came back pretty darn quick. I muttered about cold-blooded killers as I gathered myself together.

Why had I been wandering around by myself last night at all? Hadn't I been taught, over and over again, not to put myself at risk when I didn't have to? The thought of mentors made me feel sick. Crap. What was I going to tell Edgar and Alan? The truth, I supposed. There wasn't much else I could say. Apart from nothing. And they would jump for joy when they heard that there were four – maybe more? – vampires in Santa Carla. They didn't seem to care about the fact that they'd never even seen one before. They were both totally convinced that we were all hardcore vampire slayers.

I shook my head and stood up, wincing when my whole body flared in pain. Ouch. Was there any part of me that didn't hurt? I had yet to find it.

I limped back along the path, noticing two long bloodstains and another burgundy patch on the asphalt. I quickly ran a fingertip across my forehead. It was covered in dried blood. Great. Another injury to explain to my not-so-understanding mother – she didn't comprehend how near-death experiences and concussions were a normal part of a teenager's life. Or my life.

I hesitated when I reached the comic store ten minutes later. I was one-hundred percent aware of the blood smeared across my face, and I was pretty sure that I couldn't just blow it off.

Oh, yeah, don't mind the gash on my face. Or all the skin ripped off of my heels. It's nothing. Don't worry about it.

I was sure that wasn't going to go down well. I took a deep breath and pushed through the door.

Edgar and Alan were lounging by the counter when I hobbled in, conversing quietly in low voices with each other. When they turned to look at me, their faces went blank with shock.

"Allie?" gasped Edgar.

"Hi, guys. Do I really look that bad?"

"What happened to you?" said Alan.

I grimaced. "We might want to take this conversation somewhere more private. Away from eavesdroppers."

I glowered at a kid browsing for comics who'd been staring.

"I think you're right. Outside?"

I nodded and followed them out.

"So, what happened?" demanded Alan.

"Vampires." I said, straight to the point. "There are vampires in Santa Carla. Four of them – the same four that chased me last night."

They blanched. "What do you mean, 'they chased you?'"

"I mean exactly that. They came at me out of the blue as I was walking home last night – hey! Don't look at me like that! I'm sixteen; I can walk home by myself. Anyway, as I was saying: they followed me for about a mile, and then I found a church. No big deal."

"And your face?"

"We had a bit of a scrap, but it's nothing serious," I said. "I kicked one of them in the face, though."

Edgar grinned. "Excellent."

"So where's my 'I'm so sorry about your face, Allie, you must have had a rough time?'"

"It was coming."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure it was."

"Allie!"

I turned round at the mention of my name, and instantly wished I hadn't. A girl with long, flowing raven hair stood before me, grinning so widely that her face was prone to being split in half. Her beautiful visage radiated vanity.

"Oh." I tried to sound pleased to see her. "Hey, Tara. How are you?"

"Great! How about you?"

I wondered whether she saw the massive gash on my face or not. "Oh, I'm brilliant. Couldn't be better."

She grinned as if she hadn't noticed my dripping sarcasm.

"Well, seeing as we're both here, would you like to come on some of the rides with me? I dumped my boyfriend earlier, see."

I heard Alan choke on his own laughter behind me, before turning it into a hacking cough.

"I thought you only started dating him yesterday?"

She shrugged. "He was getting kind of boring."

"Of course."

"So, do you want to?"

No. I'd rather burn in hell. "OK then, I guess."

"Thanks, Allie!" She grabbed my hand and dragged my away from the Frogs. "We need to get that off your face, though. You look hideous!"

"Really?"

"Mm-hm. I have some make-up if you want me to put some on you."

I tried to smile at her, but it came out as a sort of twisted grimace. "Thanks, Tara."

"No problem!"

I scowled. I'd rather face vampires again than spend a whole day with Little Miss Perfect.

By the end of the day, I could wholeheartedly agree with that statement.

"Will you walk home with me?" She begged, doing her best impression of a whining puppy as we ambled out of the boardwalk. "I don't like the dark."

"Uh, yeah, sure." I said.

Her blue eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas morning, and she clapped her hands together. "Thanks!"

"Don't mention it." I muttered.

I glared as headlights came round the corner, along with howls of laughter and yells. Four motorcycles pulled up to the curb, and I backed away, tugging Tara along.

"C'mon," I muttered as the bikes' roars cut off.

But she wouldn't budge.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? C'mon!"

I looked up when the bikers approached us. And then I understood. Tara was staring at them with a dazed expression on her face, her thoughts written plainly across her features.

I almost groaned out loud when she grinned at them.

"Well hello, boys," she said in a teasing, coy voice.

One of them grinned back; his sandy blond hair was strewn in a lion's mane around his head. "Ladies," he greeted us.

Tara batted her eyelashes at him and cocked a hip out to the side, sliding her miniskirt up her waist until I could hardly see it. I almost gagged.

"We should go now," I murmured lamely, and tried tugging on her hand again as I surveyed the rest of the bikers.

The one farthest away from me was probably the tallest, with hair blacker than the sky. He had a serious expression on his face and, unlike the blond, he didn't seem an ounce interested in Tara. The man stood next to him didn't seem particularly interested either, but had a smirk on his face which told me he was enjoying himself. He had platinum blond hair which gleamed silver in the starlight.

And the last one . . . was looking at me really weirdly. Like he was trying to figure something out. There was a small crease on his forehead as he frowned, and I automatically brought my hand up to the gash on my head.

I swear I'd seen this guy before. It was right on the edge of my mind . . . until Tara said my name.

"Allie? Allie, this is Paul, Dwayne, David and Marko." She said, as if they were all the best of friends.

I ignored her, staring at the one called Marko. His curly blond hair made a halo around his head, and I had to grab my wrist to stop myself from reaching out to touch it. Was it really as soft as it looked?

He looked down when my hand jerked, and raised his eyebrows when he saw me grasping my wrist. I let it go and blushed, trying to look away from his eyes.

But they were captivating. It seemed like I could see into them for miles and miles, like a deep ocean, even though the waves were stormy grey. They were completely in contrast with his vivid patchwork jacket, which surprisingly didn't make him look like a clown as I would have thought.

"N-nice jacket," I stammered, and then blushed.

"Don't mind her, she's just had a bit too much to drink, that's all." Said Tara silkily.

"I haven't had anything to drink!" I protested heatedly.

She smiled condescendingly and patted my arm. "It's time you should be getting home, don't you think, Allie? I'm sure your mum won't be able to tell you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk!"

"There, there." She patted my arm again, and turned back to the bikers. "Well aren't you going to offer me a ride, then?" she asked.

I stood there with my mouth wide open. "I thought you were scared of the dark?"

"When did I ever say that?" she said innocently.

"You . . . you told me earlier!"

Tara laughed. "No I didn't, silly. Now go home."

"Tara, don't go with them! You don't even know who they are."

The platinum blond smirked. "Clever girl,"

I saw Tara shiver momentarily at the sound of his voice, but she regained her composure quickly and winked at . . . David, was it?

"Tara, I'm serious," I said. "Don't go with them."

"You're being ridiculous, Allie. I'll call you tomorrow, alright? I'll be very busy tonight . . ." she trailed off into a giggle and looked hopefully at Marko.

Unexplained anger boiled inside me.

"Fine then. Be like that. It's not my fault if anything happens to you." I turned away from her.

"Oh, stop being such a spoilsport. She's always like this," she added to the boys.

"Just because I don't suddenly turn into a slut when someone of the male species walks round the corner!" I fumed. "You only just dumped your last boyfriend!"

She glared at me. "I'm not going to waste my time on you anymore, Allie. Our friendship is over. Goodbye."

And with that she walked over to Marko and tugged on his hand, pulling him over to his motorcycle. I watched them drive away, Tara clinging onto Marko just a little too tight. God, I could've killed her at that moment.

"Slut," I muttered and stalked off, white-hot anger raging inside of me.

Why did I care so much if she went off with them? And more importantly, why did I care so much about her going off with Marko?

I shuddered as what could only be called jealousy reared its ugly head at me.

How was it? If you liked it, check out my other Lost Boys fic, Immortal (David/OC).

Review? :)