Hey, guys. Second fanfic here. This is a sequel, kind of, from my earlier story DEAD, I've gotten a lot of reviews saying I should write a sequel, so…here it is! This story is about how, one night, Max, Fang and the flock rest in a little town called Forks, Washington. When, Edward, and Emmett stumble upon the flock. Except, they're hunting. Since they're in full hunting mode, the accidently hurt Max. And as she heals, the love hormones start to run wild with Edward…. But don't worry, this story isn't bad in any way (except occational cussing, and totally awesome fight scenes, just like the book!)

NOW ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I love doing that!)

Max's POV

You may not know this, but running—or flying, in my case—away from an imperial disaster isn't a lovely picnic, let me tell you.

I sucked in air, going all out full speed, but it wasn't enough. This thing was still behind me, and to my horror, it was gaining on me. Its Fingernails were caked with gore, and its eyes resembled the blood spewing out of its mouth. His pale skin glittered, though sunlight was scarce. His hair had a pretty color, but it's beauty was obscured by the ferocious growl coming from its snarling lips. In back of my mind, I wondered whether it lived in a place where manicures or trendy nail salons couldn't be found. I swear, I'm going ADD faster than I can freaking fly. But what was so strange about this demon, was that it didn't have wings. But, somehow, it continued to stay airborne six thousand feet above sea level.

I looked ahead of me, searching for a an escape, something to slow him down, anything, but apparently God, (if there is a God, mind you) didn't feel like humoring me today.

All in all, this who cat-chasing-mouse thing pretty much sucked. And I was so tired of it.

I know what you're thinking: Where's the flock? Where's the beautiful and creepily silent Fang? Where were Iggy and Gazzy, with their never-ending stash of bombs? Where was the motor mouth, Nudge? She could probably kill the idiot behind me just by talking to him about fashion designers, for crying out loud! Where is the scary Angel, who could probably make this bozo run itself head first into the ocean below—

And that's when it hit me. The ocean.

Without a second thought, I dived, streaking like a bullet at over two hundred and sixty miles an hour toward the humongous blue mass below me, which was getting larger by the second. I risked a quick glance behind me, and almost screamed.

Somehow, this hulking disaster followed me with almost perfect precision, and it was so close I could see its sickly yellow pupil, which was constricted. Frantically, I looked back, and only had a split second to straighten my figure out before the water hit me full in the face with a resounding splash.

I must admit, I was totally relieved. That demon, or whatever it was, couldn't find me here. It's probably dead, thank god. I looked around in the water, trying to get my bearings—how deep I was, or if there was any curious sharks around, for instance—when I felt something grab my ankle. That's when I screamed.

But the thing is, no one can hear you, when you're one hundred feet below water. No one can hear you in the middle of Freaking Nowhere, U.S.A….

"Ahh!" I woke, breathing hard, as if I'd flown one hundred miles at one hundred and twenty miles an hour. My chest heaving, I gulped, sat up, and looked around. No one seemed to have moved, Thank God.

Except Fang, of course. His dark eyes were wide open, his piercing gaze staring into my deep brown ones. His black wings glittered in the firelight.

"Why are you up so late?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "Its two o'clock in the morning."

He looked back at me impassively. "I have second watch."


Suddenly he got up, and in one bound, sat beside me. Hesitantly, he put an arm around my shoulders, and I shuddered. Just as hesitantly, I put my head on his shoulders, and sighed.

"Bad dream again?" He looked concerned, and I closed my eyes.

"The same one."

He sighed, but didn't comment.

I know what you're thinking. Knowing all of your humanly human minds, you're all wondering: Max?! What are you doing?! You're supposed to be tough as nails, as hard as stone! Why are you cuddled up against Fang like some lovesick dweeb?

I've been asking myself the same thing.

But, after you're killed, all of those emotions just kind of spew out.

Yes, I was killed. By Ari, of course. I dropped two hundred feet, with a knife sticking out of my belly. Yeah, it was pretty gross. And hurt like hell. But, I was caught, and Iggy dropped me down to the jungle floor, where I got all teary, telling Fang how much I loved him. And I found out, get this, that he loved me back.

Then I died.

But the weird thing was, I was still there. I was literally out of my body, like the freaking Ghost of Christmas Past. I could see everything that was happening around me. Fang was tortured. It hurt so much as I saw Fang hurling his shovel at the tree as he buried me. I couldn't do anything to make his pain go away.

Then, the annoying Voice popped in my head, with the Confucius soul crap again, like, Make them believe in you, and you'll be free blah blah blah. But, I tried. I talked to Fang, telling him what was happening, that he needed to get it together, and all. And…he heard me. He believed in me.

And somehow, soon, everyone did too. And with a clumsy alliance with Max II, I was free. I was alive.

Though it only happened a couple weeks ago, I feel as if it happened years ago.

"Go to sleep." He murmured in my ear, stroking my hair.

And against my will, my eyes started to close, and my head dropped on his shoulder again.

And before I was out, I remembered the cold figure in my dream.

The pale one.