Of Noble Chains
D.L. Miles
Copyright 2012 by Devin Miles
Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Also by D.L. Miles
The Ethereal Crossings
Book One: Shadeland
Book Two: Fenridge

The Storm Wars
The Warden in the Gates


Prologue:
“And what’s this say, Zia?” her brother asked, holding the little girl in his lap.  He pointed to the northern part of the map, near the house they now lived in.  He had ditched his extra classes to spend time with her, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to see her much when he started college.
Zia pointed at the same area and said, “North Quarter!”
“Very good!  How about over here?” he dragged his finger west, to a tangled mess of barren lands.
“Wild Lands!” Zia cried.
He laughed, giving her a hug as a reward, “That’s right!  Now how about here?”  His finger slid south, to the area she had been forbidden to go.
“South Quarter, Specter lands!” she growled and bared her teeth playfully at him, and he mimicked her.
“That’s right,” he agreed, “but Zia you know they’re not all bad, right?”
“They’re monsters,” she stated, “they’re bad!”
“No, kid,” he shook his head at her, “not all of them.  Don’t think like that, okay?”
She pouted and faced the book.  “Okay.”
“But for the ones that do go STRAY, the Ventori will keep you safe.  Like me!”
Zia crawled around in her brother’s lap to face him, the book forgotten.  He thought she looked sad, and she stared straight at him with a bit of wonder as she asked, “You won’t go without me, right?  I wanna be Ventori!”
He laughed, and patted her head.  “Never, kid.”
That was the moment Zia truly decided what path she wanted to follow, and it was the same as her brothers.



Chapter 1:
“It didn’t take long for the five clans to unite themselves against the darkness all those years ago.  They did it to save everyone, because nobody else wanted to try.  Unfortunately their bravery wasn’t enough, even battling as one didn’t save all of them.
The clans fell, but so did the darkness, and the children of the sides that remained went into hiding, immersed themselves amongst the humans, dormant for eons; until one day, the Raijin clan stood up and declared war against those who lived in the shadows.  Soon the other clans joined them, all but the Neith, who chose to remain neutral.
It’s been just over a century since Havilan the Light revealed our people to the world, revealed that the nightmares are real too.  Although the humans had legends, stories told through generations, they had difficulty accepting the clans help.  And now the darkness is growing stronger with each passing day, awaiting their moment of glory; waiting for the opportune moment to strike, so they can take down the clans…take down all of us…”
“What about the humans?” a tiny hand rose into the chilled air, waving about to get Zia’s attention.  Breena, a little blonde girl wearing a pink sundress with matching bows stared down her storyteller, along with the rest of the New Havilan Library daycare attendees.  “Did we get to live?”
Zia resisted a chuckle and allowed her eyes to roll over the bookshelves a moment.  An elderly couple was peering at her, listening to her story, they were probably old enough to remember when the darkness was really bad.  Zia had been sure to leave out the part that the humans already knew of what lived among them; it just didn’t make the story sound as good.  “The Specter’s will leave no survivors, Breena,” Zia finally said.
The girls eyes dimmed a little, as did the other children’s.  The librarian, and daycare supervisor, cleared her throat, warning Zia that her tale was getting a little too mature for the kids.  Zia pulled at the collar of her shirt and decided to change her answer.
“What I mean to say,” she continued, “is that as long as there are Trackers, you humans don’t have to worry about the darkness making a comeback.  We’ll save your sorry—um…we’ll keep you safe.”
Another hand shot into the air; Joshua’s dirt-caked face scrutinizing her every word.  “Mama says you’re a freak that should be put down just like all the Specter’s.”
Zia felt her eye twitch and forced a smile across her face.  These kinds of comments from Joshua and his racist mother weren’t uncommon.  She said, “Well, Joshua, your mother is an ignorant—“
“Ms. Noble!” the librarian cut Zia off before she could insult Joshua’s mother again.  The ankle-length skirt swished back and forth with her hips as she came around the desk.  “How many times have I told you not to insult the children’s parents?”
“Sorry Mrs. Mayfield,” Zia said, standing up from the miniature plastic chair.  The woman began to usher Zia towards the door, the history lesson with the kids was now over.
“Alright children,” Mrs. Mayfield sighed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “say ‘goodbye’ to Ms. Noble.”
The kids did as they were told and the librarian was already motioning Zia towards the door, shooing her as if she were an intruding cat.  She hoisted her backpack over her jacket, hoping the knife she hid there didn’t clink against anything to give Mrs. Mayfield yet another reason to kick her out.  She loved coming to tell stories to the kids despite how often it ended like this.  Zia’s feet shuffled against the thin carpet as she made her way to the door.
“You’re going to be late,” Mrs. Mayfield smirked at her before glancing at the clock.  Zia followed her eyes to the wall and realized that the ceremony had already begun.  Much to the librarian’s annoyance, Zia swore rather loudly and dashed out the door.
Her bike wasn’t that far from the glass doors, but it seemed like a mile now that she was in a hurry.  Zia hopped on it and began to race down the street, careful to avoid traffic, when her phone began to ring.  With some careful maneuvering she got it from her pocket.
“Where are you?” Iscah hissed into Zia’s ear.  “The ceremony has already started and I just told your parents that you were already in line!”
“I’m on my way,” Zia shouted, narrowly dodging a large pickup.  It blared its horn at her and she yelled right back at it.  “Sorry Issy, I’ll be there though.  I’m like, five minutes away.”
“Well you better hurry because your mom already has her camera out; I think she’s on her second memory card.”
“That sounds about right.  I’ll see you there!”  Zia ended the call before her best friend could say anything else.  She was a soon-to-be Tracker, or Ventori to those that were part of a clan; dealing with a bit of rush-hour traffic was nothing.  Zia’s smile grew wider across her face, the summer breeze blowing her hair back.  Today was the beginning of her destiny, and nothing could ruin that.

It wasn’t long before Zia was leaping off of her bike and running for the auditorium of the New Havilan Community College.  She could already hear Principal Smithers calling out names as her heels clicked on the newly buffed floors.  She reached the huge wooden doors of the auditorium but stalled as her hand stretched towards the handle.
Glancing down at her attire, Zia didn’t think jeans and a tank top with matching army bag were appropriate for this occasion.  Her lips pulled towards her teeth when a noise caught her attention.
Wheels squeaked and echoed down the hallway, bounced off of the glass trophy case and towards Zia.  Her head swiveled around to find someone rolling a cart of costumes towards her; one black robe that hung on the rack was exactly what she needed.  As the janitor stopped at another wooden door, he began to jingle a roll of keys in his hands, searching for the right one.
“Hey,” Zia said, running up to him, wary that the Principal was getting dangerously close to her name.  “Can I borrow one of these?”
She ripped the costume from the hanger and threw it over her head before the man could refuse.  He didn’t seem to try though, just continued to look at his keys.  She tossed her bag into a corner by the trophy case, figuring it would be safe enough there.
The robe she wore was obviously made for someone much taller than she and the edge of it pooled on the shining floor.  She quickly thanked the man and ran back to the doors of the auditorium, being sure to hold up the robe so she didn’t trip.
Taking a moment at the doors, Zia ruffled up her hair, getting it to the perfect tousled look.  As she pushed the doors open with a little too much force, the Principal was just turning back to the microphone.
“Kehzia Noble,” he said into the thin silver mic.  Zia glanced over at her classmates, hiding at the back of the room and awaiting their names to be called.  A few of them rolled their eyes at her, as did the parents and teachers.  The Principal peered over his glasses, unimpressed.  “I’m so glad you could make it to your own graduation.”
Everyone laughed, but that didn’t slow Zia down as she walked across the blood red carpet of the auditorium.  With a big smile she said, “I know you are!”
She held the robe up and waved at her parents in the sixth row from behind the students that had already been called on.  Her mother, the beautiful Win, was already snapping photos while her father, Cash, recorded everything.  Iscah was next to them, signing that Zia had cut it too close as she pointed at her wrist.  Zia couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the people there were giving her a strange, confused look as well.  When she made it to the stage and looked out over the crowd she understood why.
All of her classmates that had been called and those hiding at the back were wearing a navy blue robe, while she wore a black one.  She mindlessly shook the Principal’s hand and took her fake diploma from him.
“I’m amazed you survived this long,” he mumbled to her.
“Right back at’cha,” Zia shot at him.  Principal Smithers inspected her costume as she walked away, the silence of the auditorium a little unnerving.
The steps down to meet the rest of the graduates creaked and moaned.  Zia shambled her way into a seat, right next to her least favourite person in all of New Havilan.
“Congratulations,” Hayden whispered to her, “but you won’t cut it as a Ventori with that punctuality.”
“At least I know the alphabet,” Zia hissed back at him, “last time I checked R was not in front of N.”
Hayden shrugged.  “What can I say?  I wanted to make sure I graduated before you.  Nice robe, by the way.”  His hand reached over and flipped up a hood Zia hadn’t known was there.  It pushed her hair forward, blinding her as more names were called.
Using jerking motions, she shoved it back, making sure to fix her dark strands; it was simple since there weren’t many of them.
“I didn’t think Ventori were allowed to be so petty,” Zia whispered, “besides, it doesn’t matter if you graduated first; I got my acceptance letter before you.”
A smirk in Zia’s direction and her heart did an unfamiliar hard thump.  Hayden shifted in his seat to face her.  He put an arm around the back of her chair and brushed his sandy bangs from his eyes.  Zia would never admit it, but her heart did another little flutter.  He laughed, “You got an interview first, not an acceptance letter.”
“Sorry, but I don’t see the difference,” Zia grew tired of being so close to Hayden, especially with the overwhelming scent of after-shave.  “By the Light, have you picked a clan yet?”  Hayden flinched and turned back to the stage, removing his arm from Zia’s personal space.  He kept his mouth shut for the rest of graduation.

The reception was held outside, once everyone had gone through the journey of walking across the poorly lit auditorium stage.  Zia had managed to escape any more conversation with Hayden Rider and met up with Iscah first.  She greeted her best friend with a tight, breathtaking hug.
“I’m so happy for you!” Iscah said, pushing Zia back to hold onto her shoulders.  “You graduated early, and from the Light Academy no less!”
“I know!” Zia grabbed Iscah in another hug, her strawberry scented hair flowing everywhere.  “Now all I have to do is survive telling my parents about college and I’m done!”
Iscah pushed her away.  Zia laughed, thinking about how their roles were usually reversed.
“You still haven’t told them?” Iscah asked, her large eyes sharpening on Zia.  “But you’re interview is tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Zia said slowly, “I’m going to do it tonight, after dinner.  So don’t say anything!”
Zia waved her hands at Iscah as her parents approached.  Iscah was staring daggers into Zia, and had every right to.  But as Zia’s parents approached, they each plastered an easy smile on their faces.  Win and Cash immediately hugged their daughter, right before they started snapping pictures.
“Alright Win, calm down,” Cashel laughed, taking the camera from his wife’s frail hands.  “I think we have enough photos for now.”
“But I can’t help it, honey,” Win started to pat down the shoulders of her daughters robe, picking off stray hairs or pieces of fluff, “she graduated from Light Academy at only seventeen.  She’s the youngest student to ever do it!”
“Technically there are five of us graduating at seventeen this year,” Zia burst her mother’s bubble, even though she already knew this.  “But I guess out of all of them I am the youngest by about a month.”
“Oh, I don’t care,” Win whipped Zia into another hug, “I couldn’t be prouder and I got to be here to see it.”
“Ha ha, yeah…” Zia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.  Knowing what she was thinking, Cashel handed the camera back to Win.  “Let’s get some more photos, yeah?”
Zia spent the rest of the reception with Iscah and her parents, taking small chances to glare at Hayden Rider.

He stood on the opposite side of the courtyard, watching Zia with every chance he got.  From now on he wouldn’t be able to see her on a regular basis, and it made his chest hurt.  But Hayden knew that if she at least got into the Tracker program, there was a slim chance he would get to have classes with her; of course he had to get in as well.  Arranging to sit next to her at graduation hadn’t been easy.  He had to convince the girl that was originally supposed to be there to trade spots, and then he had to switch the names on the roster.  Hayden couldn’t believe Zia had thought he was doing it just to say he graduated before her, but then again she had never been able to notice his advances before.  For one of the most popular girls in school, she certainly was oblivious to how others felt towards her; or maybe it was just his feelings she didn’t notice.
A sigh escaped his lungs, and his friend Cal noticed.
“I got a plan,” he announced to Hayden, who finally shifted his gaze away from Zia.
“A plan?” Hayden mocked.  Cal, one of the only other clan members in the school, always had a plan.
“Yup, just you wait,” Cal winked, “she’ll be yours in no time!”
Suddenly Hayden noticed his father had disappeared and he glanced around the immediate area.  The man he called dad was already stepping into a sleek limo on the edge of the road, not even turning around to give his only son a wave goodbye.  Hayden grimaced, and Cal jostled him.
“Your mom’s coming over, man,” Cal said, and whirled away with a fresh drink.  Hayden wished he could do the same.
But instead he jumped into action as his mom approached, “Hello, mother.”  He wrapped his arms around her stiff shoulders and she gave him a single pat on the back.  She was of the Shakti clan, and they weren’t known for being…caring.  But she was better than his father, at least.
Her sandy brown hair blew in the light breeze and her lips formed a tight smile, “Congratulations on your graduation, Hayden.  I trust you’ll be choosing your clan soon?” his mother questioned.  Everyone was asking that, even Zia.  But he faked a smile, and nodded.
“Of course.”
“I trust you’ll make the right choice,” she eyed him, her makeup perfection.  He nodded again.
But the truth was he had no idea which clan he would pick.  His gut told him to go in one direction, while his mind told him to go another.  But for now, he would convince his mother he was going to enter the Shakti clan, and become a true member.
“Of course.”
Hayden couldn’t help but wonder what his parents would do when he really did choose.



Chapter 2:
That night Zia went with her parents to her favourite restaurant to celebrate.  It was half bar, half diner, and had a family feel to it.  Though her father had suggested going to one of New Havilan’s more upscale restaurants, Zia refused; Stallion’s had the best burgers, in her opinion.  Plus there was no chance of running into Hayden there.  She squeezed into the blue vinyl booth next to her mother while Cashel retrieved their drinks from the counter.
The diner wasn’t that busy, since most graduates were probably out eating at the most expensive places in town, Zia thought.  But she didn’t like those places; this place carried too many good memories for her.  And memories trumped fancy prices any day.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to school in the fall?” Win suddenly asked, taking Zia away from the blissful atmosphere of the room.  The same elderly couple that had been watching her at the library hobbled their way to a booth on the other end of the diner, not even seeming to notice Zia.
“I’m…sure,” she lied, “I just want to work for a year and really…think about what I want to do.”  Zia shrugged, trying to imagine how tonight’s conversation would go.  How would she take it?  Zia didn’t think it would go very well.
“Well, alright,” Win said, just as Cashel set their drinks on the white table.
“Here we are,” he said, “our orders are all set.”
“As always,” Zia laughed.  Her mother picked her glass to her lips, taking a sip.  Maybe now would be a good time to test the waters?  Zia thought.  “So…speaking of school and all…did you hear Hayden is trying to get into the Havilan School of Trade?  He’s trying to become a Ven—a Tracker.”
The liquid spat from Win’s mouth, sending her into a coughing fit.  Zia passed a napkin to her as fast as she could and she dabbed it at her mouth, still coughing.  As the cloth came away, she tried to hide it, but Zia knew all too well what was there.
Zia turned quiet, as did Cashel.  Nobody said a word, knowing what everyone was thinking.  There was no way Zia could tell either of them that she planned on doing exactly what Hayden did.  There was no way she could tell them that she had an interview tomorrow with the Havilan School of Trade’s Chief Administrator for Tracking.
“I’m sorry, mom,” Zia said, “I was just…making conversation is all.”
“I know, Zia,” Win said, waving her hand at her daughter, “you just caught me off guard.  That poor boy has no idea what is in store if he does become a…if he succeeds.”
“You said his name was Rider?” Cashel asked, careful to watch his wife in case of another attack.  “Is he the one that has to pick a clan?”
Zia nodded her head, glad to get the topic off of Tracking.  Hayden was sort of famous among clan members, because it was so rare to be born to two different ones.  He would eventually have to pick which would be his official clan, which meant shaming the other.  Zia felt a little sorry for him, but really it couldn’t be horrible.  She could see in her father’s eyes that he didn’t like the idea of picking a clan though, and the topic was just as upsetting.
“That must be tough,” he finally said, “for both him and his parents.”
“Oh yeah,” Zia scoffed, “it must be so horrible to have to pick a clan.  Who should it be?  The Shakti, the most powerful warriors, or the Jasper, the best Trackers around?  Oh…I guess he’ll probably pick the Jasper clan then, huh?”
“If he wants to become a true Tracker, he will most likely pick them,” Win came in, squeezing her napkin under the table.  After a moment she excused herself to the washroom.  Zia pursed her lips and watched her mother’s hunched shoulders find their way through the familiar quarters.
“Sorry,” she said again.  Cashel only shrugged her off; Zia would have preferred he scolded her or something.  Ever since Donataen died…they never punished her for anything.
Zia took a sip of her drink, avoiding eye contact and hoping their meals would get there soon.

In the washroom Win made her way into a stall, needing to take a breath before facing her family.  She tossed her bloody cloth into the toilet, and leaned against the cool plastic of the door as she locked it.  Her sickness was getting worse; the Tertiary Plague affected less than one per cent of the population, transferred through blood.  At one point in time its various strains devastated the humans, but the clans now helped develop a way to combat the disease.  Win covered her eyes, thinking of how lucky she had been to meet Cash, a clan member, so their children would never get the plague.
But the sickness still ravaged her body every day.  Nobody in New Havilan even called it the plague that it was; they referred to it as “the sickness”.  It shortened the lifespan of those with the sickness which usually meant they never made it past 30, but she had, thanks to the hard work of those at the hospital.  But it wasn’t enough to actually save her; she still couldn’t speak the words they had told her at her last visit.
Win left the stall, finding the bright washroom empty.  She patted her face in the mirror, noting the large bags that crouched under her eyes, how her skin almost appeared translucent.  She painted a smile on her lips, reminding herself she lived to see her daughter graduate high school.  One day at a time, she thought, one day at a time.

Her bare feet padded against the wooden planks of the Redcreek bridge, splinters digging their way into her toes.  The red haired woman kept running, only taking a second to glance over her shoulder as she passed a sign reading “BRIDGE CLOSED: CONSTRUCTION”.  Even if she had been looking at it though, she wouldn’t have seen it; there was only one light at the end of the bridge, barely illuminating such a black night.
The moon hung in the sky, she knew that, but tonight it hid behind the clouds, not daring to look upon this scene.  A scream escaped her throat, having bubbled up from the terror.  As she reached the end of the bridge a laugh soon followed; her, a skilled Ventori, just screamed out of fear.
Her laughing soon subsided as she banged her fists on the wooden planks that blocked her way, the bridge broken halfway over the river.  What had started out as a beautiful evening wasn’t going to end the way she had planned.  Lifting her green gown to prepare for a fight, she decided she wasn’t going to go down easy and pulled a dagger from a sheath on her thigh.  If tonight was the night she died…well, she was going to take someone with her.
Red hair swirling in the night wind, she turned as something hit her.  The dagger she loved so much fell to the planks below and glinted under the dimming bulb that hung nearby.  Her breath disappeared from her lungs and the boards cracked and crunched under the pressure, along with her ribs.  She hadn’t seen what had hit her, a Specter maybe, a big, solid Specter.
The woman sailed over the water and plummeted down, a man watching her fall.  She didn’t scream this time; she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.  But as she contacted with the freezing water below she closed her eyes, and let out one last breath; a scream silenced by the rushing waves.
A blurred image of the man walked away, not even checking to make sure she was dead.  He didn’t need to, even she knew she wouldn’t survive this.

“So how did it go?” Iscah asked from the other end of the phone.
“It didn’t.”
“What?” 
Zia could hear the accusation in her voice; hear Iscah telling her how much of a coward she was.  Zia explained to her friend what had happened but she still didn’t quite understand.  She shifted her body uncomfortable on her bed as she rolled away from her computer.  Silence fell upon the phone line before Iscah finally said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?  This isn’t your fault.  I’ll just go to school, work part time…then…”
“I’m still sorry,” Iscah sighed, “and I know nothing I say will change your mind.  So good luck tomorrow.  I’ll be rooting for you!”
“Thanks.”   A few minutes later the girls said their goodnights and Zia rolled back to her computer.  The first page was open to the Havilan School of Trade’s website, specifically the admission requirements for the Tracker program.  She had this page memorized though, and she closed it with a huff.
The next page Zia came to was the local newspaper.  The North Quadrant Gazette was the newspaper for the north half of New Havilan, the predominantly human half.  Even though Zia lived up there, she wasn’t exactly human.  She was half Medean, on her father’s side.  It was something she was very proud of, but her parents thought differently; there were too many people like Joshua’s mother that hated anyone from a clan.
So the only ones that really knew of her heritage were Iscah, a pureblood human, and other clan members like Hayden.  Zia’s eyes skimmed over the front page when one article caught her eye.
Woman jumps from Red Creek Bridge the headline read.  Zia clicked the glowing “read more” link and looked over the article.  Apparently a woman in her twenties jumped from the bridge leading to the southern half of town just after the annual Ventori Grand Ball earlier this evening.  There was no other information, since it had only happened about two hours ago.
Zia contemplated that a moment, thinking that while she was out with her parents, enjoying dinner and entertainment, this woman was jumping from a bridge…dying.  What could have made her jump?  Zia wondered.  It was rare for a Ventori to commit suicide.
She continued looking at more articles before going back to look at the Tracker program description.  A sigh escaped her lungs as she rested her head on a hand.
“Our state of the art program will teach clan members how to properly track, arrest and bring in STRAY Specter’s,” Zia read aloud, her voice not giving away any of the excitement she was feeling, “and here you can discover how to survive as a Ventori, and make contacts in the hunting world.  Please be aware that this program is only offered to clan members and any pureblood humans need not apply.”
Zia scrolled the pointer over the “program courses” and clicked.  If she managed to ace her interview tomorrow she would be taking classes like Types of Specters I, Proper Bounty Hunter Techniques, Research I, and History I come September.  Another sigh and Zia scrolled down to the electives; she would definitely have to take Special Weapons Training as her first semester elective.  As she began to daydream about her courses and the people she would meet, a footnote caught her eye.
“Please also be aware that anyone wishing to take this course is expected to adhere to the belief that not all Specters are evil until given the status of STRAY by the Havilan Board of Justice.”  Zia scoffed at the idea.  “Yeah, right.  Specter’s not evil?  I’d like to see that.”
She closed the screen again and opened up her notes for the interview.  Even though she had read these questions and answers at least twenty times a day for the past two months since her interview had been scheduled, Zia still felt the need to do it.
Her eyes read and reread the words for another hour before she finally went to bed; as if she would actually get any sleep before morning.



Chapter 3:
Sitting outside the interview office was nerve-wracking.  Zia could feel her hands shaking, her heart trying to beat out of her chest and she swore that if she wasn’t careful, her teeth would begin to chatter.  So to try and appear a little more…in control, she clutched her hands together and clenched her mouth shut.  Soon though, her entire body began to shake in her borrowed pant-suit.
“Nervous?” a man next to her asked.  Zia jumped, not even realizing someone was sitting there.  She had thought she was alone; some Ventori she was.  When she managed to catch her breath, she lost it again in his eyes, in his face, in his gorgeous everything.
Sitting next to her was a twenty-something man with sharp grey eyes and a nose that had been broken one too many times, but it suited him.  As he sat there in his worn black leather jacket and worn out jeans his brown hair brushed back, the way he looked at Zia made her feel as if she were the only person in the entire world.  She didn’t even care how cliché that was, or that technically they were the only ones in the room.  Zia’s interview seemed to be the only one scheduled for the day.
“A little,” she finally managed after gaping for a moment.  “I’ve only had, like, two interviews before this one so…”
“It’s just an interview,” the man said with a hint of a laugh.  Zia turned away from him and focused on the door in front of her; hopefully that would keep her from staring at him.  But all it really did was give her a gnawing sensation in her stomach, and reminded her that all of her hopes were riding on the next hour.
“But it’s an important interview,” Zia found herself saying, “if it doesn’t go well I won’t be able to get into the Tracker program.”
That seemed to catch his attention.  “Tracker program?  You want to be a Ventori?”
“Hells yes,” Zia said and quickly covered her mouth.  “I mean, yeah, I do.  It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“Have you ever actually Tracked a Specter?” the man crossed an ankle over the opposite leg and leaned back in the metal chair.  His left arm stretched out over the backs of two other chairs, his fingers almost playing with the fake plant that sat on the table next to them.  He wasn’t looking at Zia anymore, either.
“Kind of,” she admitted, scratching at her neck, “I’ve gone out with my brother before, but I was too young to do anything so I usually waited in the car and watched.”
“Your brother’s Ventori?”
“Yeah…” Zia paused.  Her eyes drifted down to her lap, her body no longer shaking or scared.  “Well…he was.”
“And now you want to follow in his footsteps?” the man began to peer about the room, seeming to be getting bored with their conversation.
“No,” Zia laughed and it seemed to surprise him.  His head turned to face her, eyebrows high.  “I want to be a Tracker, but I want to do it my own way.  I mean, I know my brother influenced my choice, but I’m not going to end up like he did.”
The man didn’t say anything and instead seemed to ponder Zia’s words.  She didn’t mean she didn’t want to end up in the same place as her brother, but she didn’t want to be the same kind of Tracker he was.  Zia planned on being a whole new class of Ventori, whether the Board of Justice approved or not.
The door clicked open just as the man opened his mouth and a woman emerged.  Zia had expected another student to come out, either looking happy or sad about how their interview went, not this middle-aged clan member.  On her jacket she wore a pin, identifying her with the Shakti clan, and as a high ranking member.  Zia swallowed loudly.
“We’re ready for you Ms. Noble,” she said and waved Zia inside.  Her eyes then fell on the man next to Zia and narrowed.  “You’re late, Aeryn.”
“Sorry,” Aeryn held his hands up and stood.  Zia followed after him.  “I had things to do.”
“Get inside already then,” the woman scolded, “you missed two interviews this morning.”

Aeryn shrugged and sauntered into the room, the young Zia Noble trailing behind him after another look from the Shakti woman.  He tried to resist laughing, knowing how terrified she must be; he had caught her swallowing her own fear.  When they were both inside, the door slammed shut and Aeryn made his way to the windows, leaning against them casually.
He watched Kehzia move her way inside the room, taking everything in.  He could tell by the way she carried herself that she was better than some of the Ventori he had partnered up with, and at only seventeen.  But she wasn’t what he had pictured from Donataen’s description.  Donataen always described his sister as a hell-raiser, determined and far from level-headed.  Not this…this girl.
Kehzia was tall though, like her brother, with short chestnut hair and the same bright blue eyes.  The way she moved was almost like a dance, and Aeryn could tell she was aware of her surroundings, whether she was conscious of it or not.  When she came further into the room she looked out the windows, and for a brief second Aeryn caught a glimpse of bliss on her face.  He touched his hand to his lips, hoping to hide his smile.
Aeryn didn’t care about any of the other interviews today; he was only here for Kehzia Noble.

The room was exactly what Zia had pictured in her fantasies.  It had three people sitting behind a long table, with a single chair facing them for the interviewees.  Across the room were a row of windows, none of them open to let in the beautiful summer weather.  At least the blinds are up, she thought.
“Please take a seat, Ms. Noble,” said one of the men behind the table.  “I’m Dr. Ivy, this is Father Killian and that is Ms. Madsen.”
Each person nodded to Zia.  She smiled and did the same.  Dr. Ivy was the person she really needed to impress; he was the Chief Administrator of the Tracker program.  Basically, if he liked her, he could veto everyone else on the board.
“Hello,” Zia said, sitting down on what felt like the smallest chair in the world; which was saying a lot, considering how often she sat in children’s chairs at the library.  “I’m Kehzia Noble.”
“We are aware,” Ms. Madsen said, shooting a glare in Aeryn’s direction.  He remained a mystery by the window.  Zia really hoped he wasn’t an interviewer; she hoped he was just there to observe because if he looked into her eyes and asked a question, she was sure she would forget everything.
“Right,” Zia mumbled, a little taken aback by the board woman’s attitude, “sorry.”
“Let’s get on with this,” Ms. Madsen continued, and Father Killian narrowed the corner of his eyes towards her.  Madsen looked up at Zia over a stack of papers, red fingernails clicking against the sheets.  “Why did you choose Havilan School of Trade as your first choice?  There are plenty of other schools with adequate programs for a…half human.”
Zia understood her attitude instantly, but plastered a grin on her face.  Her mother always said that you should never stop smiling during times like this, no matter what you felt.
“Because it’s the best,” Zia replied, already prepared for this question, “the Havilan School of Trade has trained the greatest Tracker’s out there and they also employ the—“
“Yes, we’ve heard all this before,” Ms. Madsen interrupted, “moving on.  Why do you think we should let you into our program over someone else?  There are other pureblood clan members that want in as well, so why you?”
Zia flinched.  This sort of racism was not what she had been expecting in an interview; especially an interview with the Havilan School of Trade board members.  Did nobody notice what she was doing?  Zia flicked her eyes to the other board members, each of them unreadable.  She wanted to say something, but her mouth started to dry up and she didn’t know what to say.  Zia didn’t have an answer for this question and her mind completely blanked as it searched for reasons she should be let in over someone else.
“Because I want it?” she blurted.
The corner of Father Killian’s lips twitched upwards but he managed to resist a full smile.  His eyes flicked towards Aeryn who shifted by the window but Dr. Ivy, the one Zia wanted to like her, remained motionless.
“Because you want it?” Ms. Madsen repeated flatly.  She scribbled something down on the paper, back perfectly straight as she did so.  Wouldn’t want to wrinkle her clothes would she?
“Yes,” Zia continued, “what other reason would there be?  Everyone who applies is at roughly the same stage of it, so what else could you judge someone on?  I graduated a year early from the Havilan Light Academy, third in my class only behind the girl that slept with two of her teachers and,”–she lowered her voice—“Hayden Rider.”
Aeryn moved around again in the sunlight, crossing his ankles.
“She’s got a point,” Father Killian said, “that’s very impressive for someone her age.”
Zia smiled, thinking that she had actually reached someone on the Board.
“But do you have any experience?” Ms. Madsen asked, flipping a sheet of paper onto the table.
“Experience?” Zia stammered.  “Does anyone have experience?”
“Do you, or do you not have any experience in Tracking, Ms. Noble?”
“Not exactly experience—“
Ms. Madsen’s hand shot to the side and grabbed a stamp, slamming it down on the paper.  Zia flinched again as the noise echoed about in the room.
“We cannot, in good conscience, allow a novice into our program,” Ms. Madsen said, a cruel smirk on her face.  “Maybe when you gain some real world knowledge you can reapply.”
Zia’s eyebrows rose.  She had been in here for less than five minutes and she was already being rejected?  She jumped from her chair, fury running through her veins.
“You think just because I’m half human that I shouldn’t be allowed into the program?  What?  Am I less than you because only half my bloodline is in the Medea clan?  Or—“
“Medea clan?” Dr. Ivy finally perked up.  “You are Medean?”
“Um…yes sir,” Zia quieted down for him.  Maybe she still had a chance?  There was a strange sound of hope in his voice after he had heard the word “Medea”.
“You are Kehzia of the Medea clan…” Dr. Ivy tapped a large finger against his mustache before turning to Father Killian.  They exchanged whispers before facing Zia again, completely excluding Ms. Madsen.
“We will allow you into the Tracker program,” Dr. Ivy began, lifting Zia’s heart higher than when she first laid eyes on Aeryn, “if you can gain some experience with a certified Ventori.”
“What?  Like a co-op sort of thing?” Zia asked.  She had tried to do a co-op with a Ventori in high school and it didn’t go well.  Tracker’s weren’t known for being the most friendly or trusting of people; it’s almost impossible to find one willing to work with another person that isn’t family.
“We will give you a week to find a Tracker willing to teach you,” Father Killian said, black sleeves leaning forward on the table, “and if you spend the summer working with them, we will allow you into the program.”
“Okay,” Zia declared, “I can do that.”
“I think that’s agreeable, don’t you Ms. Madsen?” Father Killian looked over to his compatriot, giving her the same smirk she had given Zia.
Ms. Madsen didn’t give him any notice.  “Understand, Ms. Noble, that should you fail to find a Ventori, or fail at receiving any knowledge we will terminate your pending acceptance.”
“Understood,” Zia chirped, “thank you.”
Father Killian turned to the man at the window.  “Do you have any questions for her, Aeryn?”
“Nope,” Aeryn left his ledge and came forward a few steps, “but I do have something to say.”
“I thought you might.”
“Since Ventori are so hard to come by these days, I’ll be her certified trainer.  A…mentor so to speak.”  Aeryn took one more step towards Zia and slapped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close.
“Really?” Zia asked, unable to hide her excitement as her voice raised an octave.  This man wasn’t her ideal person, but he wasn’t hard to look at and he was willing to help her.  Who was she to deny help?
“Of course,” Aeryn said, “I owe someone a favour, and this is the only way I can think to repay it.”
Zia didn’t bother to ask what he meant and instead relished the expression on Ms. Madsen’s face.
“You may terminate her pending acceptance at any time over the summer should you feel the need,” Dr. Ivy said, finger still tapping against his face.  “But do try to teach her well, Mr. Rinehart.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Aeryn started pushing Zia towards the door.  “Let’s get started then.”
He opened the door and shoved Zia outside once she shouted another “thank you” to the Board members.  When they were in the hallway, under the bright fluorescent lighting she looked up into his grey eyes.
“Rinehart?” Zia questioned.
“Yup.”
“You’re Aeryn Rinehart,” she said, astonished, “the Aeryn Rinehart, greatest Ventori in all the world next to Havilan the Light?  That Aeryn Rinehart?”
“You know,” he chuckled, “technically I’m the greatest living Ventori ever right now, since she’s dead and all.”
Aeryn started moving down the hall, leaving Zia with her mouth hanging open.  She had no idea who he was ten minutes ago.  She didn’t know who he was when they had gone into the interview room.  But now he was her hero; not only that, he was her mentor.
Her mentor was Rinehart the Unbreakable.



Chapter 4:
“So what happens now?” Zia asked, running out the front doors of the Trade School.  Aeryn walked under the clouds that blew in the breeze, looking up at the impending storm.  Zia chased after him down the busy street, avoiding a mass of people as they exited a bus.  It was hard to run with such heavy pants on, especially since she was used to wearing shorts or jeans.
“I mentor you,” Aeryn shrugged, his hands swinging with his long strides.  Zia managed to match his pace.
“But what does that mean?  Like…am I just following you around all summer?”  The initial excitement was beginning to wear off, and the reality of how hard this was going to be to hide was setting in.  But she shook it off and peeked up at Aeryn from the corner of her eyes.  He was so cool, and she could feel power and determination wafting off of him.  She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.  How many times had she drifted off in class with images of her meeting him?  Of course she hadn’t known what he looked like then, but she had easily filled in the blanks.  But her imagination was nothing compared to the real Aeryn Rinehart.
“Pretty much,” he said, looking down at her in the same way, “but since you’re seventeen you need to get your parents to sign a consent form.”
Zia’s heart skipped a beat but quickly returned to its normal pace.  Well, its normal pace around Aeryn, which was faster than she thought it could even move.  The butterflies soared in her stomach, and she ignored the jelly like feeling her legs did.  Having her knees buckle in front of Aeryn was not a thing she wanted to happen.
“Okay,” she said slowly, “where do I get one of those?”
“Let’s worry about that later.”  Aeryn took a sudden right and started crossing the street, not bothering to look for cars.  Zia glanced both ways and decided it was safe before stepping off the concrete.  He said, “Right now I’m starving, Tracking is hard work.”
They hopped onto the other sidewalk and he began moving inside a forest-themed restaurant.  Aeryn signaled the waitress for a table for two.
“You got back from a job?” Zia asked, unable to mask her eagerness.  “What were you doing?  Did you catch anything?”
As the waitress began to lead them to a table by the window, Zia’s mentor got very serious, very fast.  “Rule number one in Tracking kid, don’t talk about the job.  To anyone.  Ever.”
“Right,” she agreed and they sat down.  Out of habit, she picked up the menu but kept her eyes on Aeryn.  “Because it’s dangerous to let people know who you’re Tracking, because they could come back for revenge.”
Aeryn laughed over the plastic pages.  It was loud and full, genuine, Zia thought.  “No.  It’s dangerous because half the things we have to do to catch STRAYs are illegal.”
“Oh…so what’s rule number two?”  Zia pretended to gloss over the menu, but found her eyes kept rising up to watch Aeryn.  The way he bit his lip as he made his choice was very childlike, but kind of cute too.  This was the badass Ventori she had daydreamed of most of her life?  It was surreal to see his small quirks in action.
“Rule number two?” Aeryn pondered.  He glanced at Zia before returning to the menu.  “Don’t involve humans.”
“Are you saying that because my best friend is a human?” she questioned.  There was no way he could know anything about her, but Rinehart the Unbreakable was a great Ventori.  Zia wasn’t going to be surprised if he knew things about her that even she didn’t know.
“You grew up in the North, right?” he asked back, and she nodded.  “Well they have pretty much all humans and only a few clan members so chances are you only know humans.  But they can’t get involved in Tracking; too corruptible.”
Zia tried to imagine Iscah being corrupted but just couldn’t.  There was no way some Caster would be able to convince her to become his minion.
“I know another clan member,” she said, deciding against mentioning Iscah, “he’s actually trying to become a Tracker too.”
“Hayden Rider?”
“How did you know?” Zia set her menu down, not even hungry.  How could anyone eat on a day like this?
“You flinched when you started talking about him,” Aeryn shrugged as if noticing something like that was no big deal.  But she had mentioned Hayden at the interview so he must have put this all together.
“Will he need to get experience too?” Zia asked.  “Will he have to get a mentor for the summer?”
Aeryn looked at her again, this time setting his menu down over the red and while plaid cloth.  “Maybe, I don’t really know about it.  I try not to get involved with the Board’s affairs unless I’m getting paid for it.”
“Okay.”  Zia was going to assume that Hayden would need a mentor, especially if he had gotten Ms. Madsen on his review board.  It was hard for her not to smile at that, because there was no way he would get a better mentor than her.  After all, she had Rinehart the Unbreakable!
They spent the next couple of hours together, but their conversations were unusual to say the least, and not what Zia was expecting.  She had tried steering the conversation to Tracking, and what she would be doing to get experience, but he avoided it.  Aeryn kept telling her that she didn’t have to worry about it, that it would come naturally, but what was that supposed to mean?
It didn’t matter.  Zia was certain that the coming summer would be the best she had ever had.

Aeryn stood on the edge of the Redcreek Bridge, looking down into the murky waters below.  Getting there was easy enough, since the death was ruled a suicide there was nobody putting up orange tape and getting in the way.  Aeryn glanced at a group of people holding candles and rethought his statement; no officials getting in the way and trampling the evidence.
The wind ruffled his hair into his eyes and he brushed it back with a sigh.  This wasn’t the ideal case for a novice to start on, but Zia wasn’t exactly normal, or a novice.  It would have to do.  As he surveyed the bridge that the woman had jumped from last night he spotted something on the ground.
He knelt down and wiped his fingers across the planks, noting that there were a few loose splinters that seemed out of place.  But not only that, there was also some residual blue dust; Caster class dust.
Aeryn rubbed the dust between his fingers, thoughtful as he eyed it.  Another strong breeze and it was gone, taken away with the storm as a few drops of water began to fall.  He straightened himself and moved to the group of mourners, hoping to listen in for a clue or two about the victim.  Hopefully they didn’t recognize him, with his particular connections.
Three women stood in front of a photograph of the woman, holding candles against the setting sun and sniffed back tears.  She was pretty, this Ventori that had supposedly jumped in her ball gown.  Her smile reminded Aeryn of Kehzia, or Zia as she liked to be called, and he wondered if she would end up with the same fate.
During their meal together he had seen the way she kept looking at him, with that dopey look of awe and wonder, but there was something else there too.  She respected him, saw him as a hero, as a Light Knight or something.  Aeryn plucked a flower from his pocket and set it in front of the photograph, and walked away without a word to the mourners.
His feet left a trail in the dirt as he blazed down towards his horse.  The black steed, Aeryn’s closest friend now, whinnied as he approached.  He patted the horse and climbed up, taking one last look at the bridge.
“I won’t let it happen again, kid,” he whispered and rode off towards the city.

Dealing with consent from Zia’s parents was no trouble at all for her.  It especially helped since they weren’t going to know anything about what she was doing, and she could forge both of their signatures perfectly onto the appropriate form.  She had just finished filling out the consent form from City Ark when there was a knock at her bedroom door.
“I brought you some cookies,” Win said as Zia turned to face her, “I thought you might want something sweet to celebrate after your job interview.”
Zia shuffled the consent papers into her bag, being sure to make it look casual and not rushed.  She always hated how rushed people looked in movies, and nobody ever noticed.
“Thanks,” she said and she spotted two large books underneath the plate, “and I guess you brought some college to go with that?”
A weak smile and a shrug from her mother.  “I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to look at what they have to offer, for when you’re ready to go.  I’m not trying to push you into anything.”
“I know,” Zia said, standing to take the plate from her mother, “want to look at them with me?”
“I’d like that.”
They sat down on Zia’s bed, after she flattened out the unmade blankets for a clear space.  Her gut kept telling her to confess to her parents what she was really doing; that she didn’t have a job in records at City Ark, and that her late hours were really because she would be out Tracking with Aeryn.  But it made Win so happy whenever Zia pointed out that something in that stupid college catalogue was interesting.
She didn’t want to take her mother’s hope away.
Because the hope of her going to college was the only hope Win had left.

That evening Cash and Zia accompanied Win to the hospital, for her regular checkup.  Normally the appointments were during the day, but due to the new Accords being signed there was a problem with her doctor; he had to witness one of the signings for healthcare.  Now, all Specters in the city were being given equal healthcare options, not that they wanted it.
So while Win and Cash sat behind closed doors, Zia waited in the small waiting area.  Today she knew they were talking about more treatment options, but it would only prolong the inevitable.  But even if it was just to add another day, Zia was willing to try it.  It also reinforced her belief that Win could never know that she had started her official Ventori training with Aeryn.
A vent overhead buzzed to life, brushing through Zia’s hair.  She glanced up at it, letting the air blow over her face, letting it soothe her.  Her eyes closed, and only reopened when it the breeze died.  She lifted her head, and looked towards the door her mother sat behind.  How was it going?
A person threw themselves into the chair next to her with a huff, and she glanced over to see her hospital buddy Melinda there.  Her dark hair was in a high ponytail, with her messy bangs falling in front of her eyes.
“Hey, Mel,” Zia gave her a smile, despite the dread in the pit of her stomach.
“’Ey, Zee,” Mel sighed.  “How’s it going?  You graduate yet?”
Zia had never told Mel of her dreams of becoming a Ventori, though she had mentioned it as a possibility.  But Mel was human, and didn’t understand the honour and respect of it all, though she claimed she did.  She related it to being a part of the Human Guard, but Zia didn’t think it was even close to that.
“I did, just the other day,” she leaned further into the seat, “how are you doing?”
Like Win, Mel was afflicted with the sickness but she didn’t show it.  Mel was all attitude and snark, which Zia loved.  It was nice to talk to someone who could hurl insults back at her; Iscah just couldn’t handle it.
“I’m doing good,” she shrugged, looping an arm around Zia’s shoulders, “they think I might be able to make it pretty far past thirty.”
“If anyone is going to ensure they live just to spite someone, it’ll be you,” Zia tried to joke, and it got a laugh out of Mel.  Her whole body shook as she did, but it was just who she was, it had nothing to do with the sickness.
“Did you hear about the signing for Specter Healthcare?” Mel suddenly asked.
“Yeah,” Zia snorted, “they can actually come up here for it.”
“Ugh,” Mel rolled her eyes, “can you imagine?  A Specter coming up North just to fix a cold?”
Zia laughed.  “They don’t even get sick, I don’t see why they had to make an Accord for it!”
Zia and Mel laughed, not even caring about the elderly woman that sat across from them.  The woman squinted her eyes at the girls, and finally spoke, “You know nothing of this world.”
The girls faltered.  Mel stood, ready to fight but Zia put a hand on her wrist.  “What was that?”
“It is because of humans,”—the woman looked to Zia—“and members like you that there is war in this world.  If you do not change your ways…I am glad I will not be in this world much longer.”
Mel pouted, her cheeks reddening with anger.  Zia just shook her head, and the woman walked off.  Neither of the girls knew what to do about that; no human had ever stood up for a Specter for.



Chapter 5:
Zia woke up at six the next day, completely eager for it to start.  And as she was dancing around her room, she remembered that she had no way of contacting Aeryn, since they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, or anything else for that matter.  Her pace slowed as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, hand in the air and ready to apply another coat of mascara.
“Crap,” she whispered.  She quickly finished getting ready and headed downstairs, the smell of bacon enticing.  As her foot touched down on the first floor there was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Cashel asked from the kitchen.
“Dunno,” Zia called back, knowing her mother wasn’t in there too.  She usually slept in late, even with her afternoon naps and going to bed before the sun.  “I’ll get it.”
She padded over to the door and swung it open, very un-Tracker like, she thought, but who would attack at half past six in the morning?  The wind blew her hair back as she came face to face with Aeryn, a smile on his lips.
“Great, you’re up,” he said, inviting himself into her home with a single step.  Zia was pushed to the side as he looked around the hallway, unaware of the intrusion.  She thought he seemed a little too eager to investigate an average household.
“What are you doing here?” Zia asked, hoping her father wasn’t about to come around the corner.  She shut the door behind her, wanting to make Aeryn leave, but not wanting to, at the same time.  Maybe she could just—
“Hello,” Cashel appeared in the kitchen doorway, metal tongs in hand.  “Who might you be?”
“Good morning,” Aeryn said, reaching a hand out, “name’s Aeryn.”
Although he was confused, Cashel took the man’s hand.  With a glance up the stairs he turned back to the Tracker and said, “Please keep your voice down, my wife is sleeping.”
“Gotcha,” Aeryn laughed and continued to inspect the various photographs on the walls and little knick knacks that decorated the hallway.  Zia was given a strict look from her father, asking her to explain but she merely shrugged, her brain trying to think up a good lie to save herself.  How could she explain knowing Aeryn, an older man, and not admit he was Ventori and also her mentor?
“I’m just here to pick Zia up,” Aeryn said, eyes falling over a particular family photo that included Donataen, “take her to—“
“Work!” Zia tried not to shout but it still came out like a scream.  “He’s here to take me to…work.”
“Oh, I see,” Cashel eyed the stranger in his home, “and what is your relationship exactly?”
“I’m her m—“
“Man!  He’s my man,” Zia laughed and grabbed onto Aeryn’s arm.  “Surprise, I have a boyfriend.”
Aeryn didn’t react like Zia had thought he would.  But then again, she hadn’t had enough time to think any of this through.  Aeryn wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, but not too close as to upset Cashel.  Zia blushed, never having a real man like him do that before.  Suddenly it was even harder to lift her head to look her father in the eyes.
“A boyfriend?” Win’s voice drifted down the stairs.  She stood at the top, bathrobe draped around her as she began to descend.  Something about the fading flowers on her cuffs made Zia’s heart sink.
“Yup,” Zia swallowed, her mother’s eyes piercing into Aeryn.  
“Where in Havilan did you meet?” It was Cashel doing the questioning this time.  His scrutinizing Medean blood came out in full force then as he lowered his eyes towards the fake couple.
“Oh, calm down Cash,” Win shushed, “we’ve never met any of her boyfriends, just be happy you know what this one looks like.”
Cashel grunted at his wife, clearly unhappy with her words.  Zia took a deep breath ready to explain and thank her mother for her understanding when Win said, “Now you don’t have to waste any time tracking him to place a bug on him.”
“No bugs please,” Aeryn joked as Win shot him a superior smile.  And here Zia thought her mother was frail.  “Cindy doesn’t like them much.”
“Cindy?” Zia heard herself asking.  They weren’t even dating for real and she felt appalled she already sounded like a jealous girlfriend.
“My horse,” Aeryn explained, gripping Zia’s waist just a little bit tighter, “she’s fine around mosquitoes, but she hates anything bigger.”
“You ride a horse?” Win asked, curious.
“Easier to get around,” Aeryn’s eyes drifted over Cashel, “perfectly safe though.”
Hoping to avoid any further conflict, Zia said, “Dad, the bacon’s burning!”
Cashel’s eyes widened and he hurried back into the kitchen.  Win moved into the doorway to giggle at her husband, but made sure to keep an eye on Aeryn.
“Anyway,” Aeryn said as he turned to Zia, “I think we have to go.”
“Right,” she agreed and freed herself, rather unwillingly, from his grip.  She dashed over and kissed her mom on the cheek before throwing on her favourite pair of boots.  “I’ll see you later!”
“Stay safe!” her mother called out as she passed by Aeryn.  Suddenly, his hand shot out and he grabbed onto Zia’s arm.
“Hold on,” he said and just as Zia looked up to see what he wanted, he kissed her.  Zia didn’t hear if her mother reacted, she was too busy trying to figure out what was going on.  Rinehart the Unbreakable was in her hallway, kissing her.  And it wasn’t like any other kiss she had ever experienced; of the four boys she had dated in high school she had only kissed two.  But this was nothing like those; those were desperate boys, and she’d had the control.  This was a man, and his kiss was gentle; he held all the power.  This was something Zia wasn’t used to.

Their lips parted and Aeryn slowly smiled, enjoying the expression on Kehzia’s face.  It was a fun mixture of surprise, anxiousness and attraction.  He turned to her mother, who simply raised one thin eyebrow at him.
“It was nice meeting you,” he said and he grabbed onto Kehzia’s hand, pulling her out the door.  Aeryn felt triumphant as he held onto her hand, as if kissing her had proven something to himself, to Donataen or maybe it was to their parents.
“What was that?” Kehzia ripped out of Aeryn’s grip and turned to face him on the cobble walk, only a few feet away from Cindy who was already shimmering in the early morning light.
“I wanted to convince them,” he explained, “we are ‘dating’ aren’t we?”
“Yeah but…” Kehzia looked down and then back up at him quickly.  “That wasn’t necessary.”
“No,” Aeryn shrugged and turned around, “but it was fun.”

Zia’s face was burning, her mind racing after that kiss.  Something about it had made every part of her body tingle, her stomach twisting in all sorts of directions.  Something about it made her angry too.  She looked up to see Aeryn fiddling with something on a big black horse.
“Well don’t do it again,” she ordered him, “not unless it’s my idea…wait…I mean…”
“I know what you mean,” Aeryn sighed, sounding almost exhausted with her.  “Now come on, we’ve got work to do.”
“Okay,” Zia accepted that Aeryn was in charge here, even though it was hard for her to do it.  It was hard for her to try and stop her face from turning as red as it was, but she easily forgot about it when she watched Aeryn’s horse, Cindy begin to change.
One moment, she was standing in the shade, but as the sun came over the high tower of City Ark she began to sparkle.  Cindy, once a black charger, turned into a glittering glass steed, starting from her tail until the line of magic came to her nose.  Zia gasped, amazed.
“No way,” she said, watching the horse trot on the spot after its transformation, “you have a Seraphic Steed?  No.  Freaking.  Way.”
Zia jumped towards Cindy, hands hovering over the clear mane.  As her eyes drifted up and down the horse she stopped at its white saddle, noticing something was missing.  She asked, “Where are her wings?”
“She’s just a baby,” Aeryn held his hand out for Zia to hoist herself up but she didn’t move, “she’s still got about a hundred or so years before she gets her wings.”  He leaned closer to the horse’s head and finished, “She hasn’t even picked night or day yet!”
“That’s okay though,” Zia said, running her fingers through the sparkling mane.  Cindy huffed, tickled by the light touch.  “Technically they don’t have to choose a side, right?  They’ll just stay black at night and clear in the day.”
“She’ll be picking day,” Aeryn said, shoving his hand out to Zia again.  This time she took it, and allowed him to help her onto the steed.  She didn’t need the help, since Zia had been riding horses since seventh grade, but she wasn’t going to refuse any chance to get closer with Aeryn; as long as it was on her terms, that was.  “She never fully changes at night.”
“What do you mean?” Zia slid back on the saddle, ready to let Aeryn in front of her but he moved her forward.  “And what are you doing?”
“It’s easier for the small one to be in front,” Aeryn said and he jumped up, legs coming around Zia’s.  “And she doesn’t have a Fallen Form at night; she just looks like a regular horse.”
“Oh,” Zia said, very aware of Aeryn’s arms around her.  He flicked the reins and Cindy took off, her glass hooves clinking on the pavement.  Zia held onto the horn of the saddle, trying to focus on anything else that didn’t involve Aeryn.

As they rode in silence, Aeryn found it hard not to compare Zia to other girls he had ridden with, which wasn’t many.  His previous love had been bigger than her, but she fit perfectly between his arms.  Even he wasn’t sure why he insisted she sit up front.
But she had listened and got on, a blush still clear on her cheeks.  Something about that made Aeryn happy, knowing he could so easily get past her barriers.  What do you think of that, Donataen?
Aeryn flicked the reins to move faster, and Cindy obeyed.  The steed picked up her pace as they passed by pedestrians and cars and other riders.  He would never admit it, but Aeryn missed New Havilan.  What he didn’t miss were the memories.
Maybe after he was done with Zia he would be able to move on.
Maybe.



Chapter 6:
Zia was first to get down from Cindy, partly because she felt like she was about to burst into flames being seated with Aeryn, and partly because she just really wanted to know what they were doing at the Redcreek Bridge.  But her quick escape wasn’t as elegant as she had hoped and her knees buckled, toppling her to the ground.
“Are you alright?” Aeryn laughed at her as he stepped down from Cindy, careful to avoid his student.  He never offered her help up but she didn’t care; Zia shot up from the dirt and quickly brushed herself off.
“I’m like ice,” Zia declared and calmly rested her arm on Cindy.  Despite her cold appearance, the glass of her mane was actually quite hot.  The steed whinnied and shook the girl off, deciding to trot towards the grass.  “So uh, what are we doing here?”
“Read the news lately?” Aeryn moved closer to the bridge where Zia finally noticed a few bouquets of colourful flowers and melted candles surrounding a frame.  One flower was out of place though, sitting directly in from of a photograph; a single red rose.  As she approached, she saw the image of a smiling young woman.  The short news article flashed in her mind and she stopped following her mentor.
“This was the girl that jumped from the bridge,” Zia said, taking a careful step towards the photograph, “the Ventori from the other night.”
“You’re half right,” Aeryn glanced over his shoulder and allowed the breeze to blow his hair in front of his eyes, “but she didn’t jump willingly.”
“How do you know that?” Zia’s heart skipped a beat, thinking that maybe he was involved in the woman’s death.  But she pushed aside her paranoid thoughts, they were too ridiculous.  Her brother always told her she was too nervous.  “Judgmental” was his favourite word to use.
“This is your first test,” Aeryn sauntered halfway down the bridge.  Zia quickened her pace to catch up and followed him to the very end; keeping a careful eye on her surroundings.  “You know she didn’t jump off here, so what happened?”
Zia nodded at him and began to look around, trying to notice every little detail.

Aeryn knew there was no way Zia would pass this test.  But that was part of why he chose this as her first official case; because it would teach her a few valuable, and hopefully lifesaving lessons.  He watched as she first looked around at the wooden planks, as if afraid she would step on any evidence should she move.
He stepped backwards and leaned against the side of a support beam, trying not to chuckle at her.  She shot him a look and he crossed his arms, already defensive.  Suddenly she looked past him, as if there was something there and he stupidly fell for her trick.
Aeryn swiveled his head around to look over the river but all he saw was the Northern Sun, nothing that should have gotten her attention.  Quickly he turned back to face Zia, feeling like an idiot.

“What is that?” Aeryn asked Zia, noticing the notepad in her hand.  She flicked it shut and shoved it back into her jacket pocket, not intending him to see it.
“Nothing,” Zia said, beginning to look around the bridge again.  She couldn’t admit she was trying to use a cheat sheet, and that just last night she had written down a few notes on this very case.  Or maybe she should?  Would Aeryn be impressed that she thought there was something off about what appeared to be an open and shut case?  She told him the truth and added, “Great minds think alike, I suppose.”
“And fools’ rarely differ,” Aeryn smirked at her.  Zia’s smile faltered and blood rushed to her face.  Okay, she thought, not exactly the reaction I wanted.  “Now tell me what you’ve got so far.”
“Alrighty then,” Zia whipped her eyes all over the bridge, looking for something, anything, that could impress her mentor but found nothing earth-shattering.  “She didn’t jump.”
Aeryn rolled his eyes and began to walk towards Cindy, his motions almost a jerk.  “Well maybe I’ll call the good Father Killian and tell him to cancel your acceptance.  Because if that’s all you’ve got…”
“No,” Zia shouted, jumping towards him, “no, wait!  I have more…I just…was starting is all.”
“Then finish.”  Aeryn squinted his eyes at her, and she felt them bore into her.
“Okay,” Zia turned her back to Aeryn and gripped the boards that protected, or maybe simply blocked her, from falling off the edge, “these were broken within the past four nights; there’s heat coming off of them, see?”  She held her hands back from the wood as Aeryn approached, mimicking her position.  “That means that a Caster put them back together, so that nobody had known they were broken.”
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a suicide,” Aeryn feigned skepticism, “maybe there was an accident that required a Specter.”
Zia shook her head, “It’s unlikely.  Even though this is the bridge leading down to the South, they rarely employ Specter’s or clan members.  All construction is done by humans, since the Work Accord of ’42.  Specter’s only come in if it’s absolutely necessary, and I can’t imagine they would find putting up some boards ‘absolutely necessary’.”

“Huh,” Aeryn said, eyeing his student.  He hadn’t anticipated her to actually know that, and he certainly hadn’t anticipated her to notice the heat, or have notes on the case already.  “What else ya got?”
Zia smiled at him, obviously happy to have left him surprised.  She continued, “There’s also a bit of Caster residue left in the cracks.”  She slid her finger down one small line in the woodwork, barely noticeable by anyone else’s standards.  When she held up her index finger it had a thin coating of blue dust, the very same he had found last night.
“Huh,” Aeryn said again and silently added, thought it would have blown away.
Zia continued her analysis without needing any more prompting.  “I also looked into some other articles on it; they said that the ball had finished at about one in the morning, but her time of death was estimated to be at about four.  She was found in her gown, so what happened to those three hours?  Also—“
“Where did you find the time of death?” Aeryn removed his hands from above the boards and crossed them over his chest.  “I don’t recall that being in any article.”
Zia laughed nervously.  “Well I read it online…I guess it could be wrong.”
“I’ll pretend that’s the truth…for now.”
“Anyway…I read in the er—article, that she had been found with deep cuts, that the coroner assumed was done by the rocks down below.”  They each peered over the edge at the calm waters that covered jagged points.  It was a likely theory, Aeryn thought.  “But really I doubt that, they looked more like they had been done by knives.  The cuts were a little blue-ish too, so I think it was a Caster knife.”
Aeryn laughed and shook his head.  How could she have known all this already?  He figured she must have hacked into the Archives…but to do that required great skill.  Then he remembered something Donataen had told him.
“You know your father’s password,” Aeryn mumbled, “I should’ve guessed.”
“That’s not true!” Zia suddenly wheeled on him, a wild look in her eyes.  “I would never endanger my father’s work in the Archives for my own gain.”
“Then how did you read the coroner’s report?” Aeryn held up a hand to stop her.  “Oh, I’m sorry; how did you read the coroner’s ‘article’?”
Zia didn’t blush as he had anticipated.  Instead she said, “I think that’s for me to know and you to…not know.”
“That’s fine,” Aeryn said, “I’ll find out on my own eventually.”

Zia had wondered if she should have told Aeryn just exactly how much access she had to the city archives.  But if she did that, it was admitting to hacking into their computers, and worse, having to tell him how she did it.  When she had told Iscah about her own profile and security access card her friend had thought she had amazing computer skills.  But it wasn’t that at all.
When she was fifteen she had to go on her annual trip to work with her father when an emergency had come up for him; and he had left her alone at his mobile computer.  Cashel worked all over the city as an Ark specialist, and on that particular day they had been at City Ark.  It had only taken her about ten minutes to actually get onto the Ark’s main server and create her own file.  Not exactly hard work on her part.
So now, at that very moment, she had an ID access card sitting in her wallet with her deceased neighbours name on it, and her photograph.  It couldn’t get her in anywhere in person easily, but online it got her into all the secret places the Ark didn’t want civilians to know about.  Places like the coroner’s office.
“Well,” Zia said, “no matter how I got the information, this looks like a Caster killing.”
“Very good,” Aeryn said slyly.  “What class do you propose?”
Zia thought for a long moment about the various types of Caster Specter’s out there; only two of them left a blue residue behind, and it usually meant a powerful one.
“I would say one skilled with Arcane I guess, considering the marks found on the body,” she finally said and the right corner of his mouth raised just slightly.  At first Zia thought that maybe she was wrong but he never said if she was or wasn’t.  Instead, he turned around and began heading back to the photograph of the woman that had “jumped”.  Cindel, Zia reminded herself, the woman’s name was Cindel.
“If you were alone, what would you do next?” Aeryn asked her, never taking his eyes off of the blonde’s picture.  He almost looked sad, as if he had known her.
“I would talk to the family,” Zia said strongly, “see if she had any known enemies, or if she was working any active cases.  Talk to her friends too, I guess.”
“Close,” Aeryn said, finally dragging his eyes towards Zia, “we’re going to look into her cases ourselves first, and do a little background before talking to them.”
He spun on his heel and whistled for Cindy.  She poked her head up from the long grass and came over slowly.  Aeryn jumped onto her with a ridiculous amount of ease and offered his hand out to Zia.
“Why do that first?” Zia asked, taking hold of his rough fingers.  She could feel scars on them, feel how many battles he had won, how many enemies he must have defeated.  Actually meeting him was different than what she had pictured.  Rinehart the Unbreakable made him sound immortal, but feeling his wounds…made him seem very human.  More human than she had wanted him to be.
“Because family isn’t always innocent.”



Chapter 7:
The wind had picked up, bringing in more storm clouds over North Havilan and the rain had just begun to descend when Zia and Aeryn stepped into Ventori Ark on the East side of the city.  For a brief moment adrenaline shot through her veins, but she calmed down when she remembered her father was still stationed at the Library.
“Got your papers?” Aeryn asked as they stepped in line behind a fellow Ventori.  Zia had barely heard him, too busy soaking in the atmosphere.
She had never been to Ventori Ark, but she had always dreamed of it.  The building was the second tallest in the world, next to City Ark; it also held one of the only entrances to the catacombs.  It shot into the sky, piercing the clouds themselves and shone brilliantly under the Northern Sun.  Zia often watched it as a child, imagining she and her brother coming here for her official license.   Her eyes dimmed a bit under the bright lights.
“Hey,” Aeryn knocked on her head with one knuckle, “papers.”
“Huh?” Zia snapped out of her daze.  “Oh, right, here.”  She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the forms that allowed her to work with Aeryn for the summer.  She unfolded them and placed them into his hand.
“What were you thinking about?” Aeryn eyed her curiously but she shrugged him off and continued to look around her.
There weren’t that many people there, only a few Ventori.  Some of them had STRAYs in tow, while others were probably only there to report on their cases.  The golden walls reflected the sun all around her and it seemed close to heavenly.  But all she could think about was how many times her brother had walked on the very tiles upon which she now stood.  How many STRAYs had he brought in here for punishment?  How many—
“Next!” A small, pointy nosed woman waved Zia and Aeryn to the front desk.  They walked up, Aeryn almost having to drag Zia away from her own misery.  “How can I help you today?”
“We need to file some authorization forms,” Aeryn said when Zia didn’t speak up, “and get some information on a deceased Ventori.”
Aeryn handed over the forms and the woman took them without another word, already typing into her computer with nails that could easily be mistaken for Specter’s claws.  After a few short moments the woman turned back to them and said to Zia, “Congratulations on your training.”
“Hm?  Thanks,” Zia said back absentmindedly.
“What case info did you need now?” the woman directed her question at Zia again, obviously trying to be nice.  But Zia only found it difficult to concentrate, as if something was urging her to just turn around and leave.
“It’s a charm,” Zia spoke aloud and whirled around.  Everyone nearby was either Ventori or in proper reduc-chains.  No Casters in the building would be able to use their magic, so what was going on?  Zia could feel the effects of a Turn Away charm on her, but she had no idea where it was coming from.
“Took you long enough to notice,” Aeryn laughed and patted her once on the back.  He quickly turned back to the receptionist.  “We need to know if Cindel l’Heureux was working on any cases before she died.”  He spelled out the name for the woman.
“What do you mean ‘took me long enough to notice’?” Zia shot him an accusing glare.
“I mean that it took you a prolonged period of time to take note of the Caster charm that was set on us,” Aeryn leaned against the marble counter and chuckled to himself.  “It’s been on us since we walked past the doors.”
“How do you know?  And why is there a Turn Away charm on the front doors of Ventori Ark?  How is that even possible?” Zia turned back to the receptionist, who didn’t appear to care at all for their conversation.
“The Caster probably put it out front of the doors,” Aeryn said, “avoid all that red tape.”
“But…why?”
“So that nobody would try and take the case; they would come inside and suddenly feel the urge to go somewhere else, or do something else.”  Aeryn shrugged as if this was every day.
“But to do that they would need an obscene amount of power,” Zia said, “like…registered national threat possibility kind of power.”
“Makes our job easier then,” Aeryn smirked, “got ‘em all on a list for us.”
“A list which you do not have access to,” the receptionist cut in coldly, “and your Cindel was not on any active cases before her death.”
“What was the last case she finished then?” It was Zia asking the questions now, her initial haze done with.  The woman tapped on her clear keyboard again.
“It says here the last case she was involved in was Tracking a STRAY that didn’t show up for court,” she shrugged, “nothing worth being murdered for if that’s what you were wondering.”
“Thank you very much,” Aeryn tapped the counter and walked away, Zia looking between him and the receptionist a couple of times before following.
“That’s it?  We’re not going to ask for any more information?” Zia followed him out the doors and the sudden feeling to find the Caster that killed Cindel rushed upon her.  How had she lost that feeling so easily?  This was exactly why Zia hated Specter’s, specifically Casters.
“There’s nothing in the records that can help us,” Aeryn said, moving up to Cindy.  He patted her mane when Zia’s phone buzzed in her back pocket.  She had wanted to yell at Aeryn for giving up so easily, but answered her phone first.
“What?” she said into it, misplacing her anger.  She quickly corrected herself, “I mean, hello?”
“Kehzia,” said a familiar voice on the other end, “what are you doing tomorrow?  We could use your help at the library.”
“Mrs. Mayfield?” Zia questioned, surprised.  “How did you get my number?”
“You’re father gave it to me,” she admitted and Zia could almost hear her rolling her eyes, “but we could really use you tomorrow morning.”
“Maybe, what do you need me for?”  Zia was nervous; the library had never asked for her help before.
“There’s a young boy here from the Neith clan,” Mrs. Mayfield explained, “he’s the only clan member in the group and he’s curious about his history.  His parents are trying to keep it quiet but nobody here really knows anything about it so we thought that you could…tell him some stories about his heritage.  Privately of course.”
“Uh…yeah, I guess I can do that,” Zia eyed Aeryn as he climbed onto his steed.  Taking her phone away from her ear she quickly asked him if she would be free tomorrow morning and not have another surprise visit from him.
“Not if you have somewhere to be,” he mused, as if being away from him was a ludicrous idea.  Part of Zia thought it was.
Placing her phone back to her ear she said, “Tomorrow at nine is fine.”
“Oh that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Mayfield said, “thank you so much.  I’ll see you then!”  Zia said goodbye and placed her phone into her back pocket.
“What’s going on tomorrow at nine?” Aeryn asked, holding his hand out again to Zia.  She hopped onto Cindy and grabbed the horn of the saddle.
“I’m going to the library to help a kid out,” was all she said, trying to respect the family’s privacy.
Wrapping his arms around her without another word, Aeryn flicked the reigns, putting Cindy in motion along the bustling downtown street.

Much to her surprise, Aeryn stopped in front of Zia’s house.  They each jumped down onto the cobble walk, Zia’s legs almost giving out again.
“What are we doing back here?” she huffed.  “Aren’t we going to do a little more work?  It’s not even noon yet!”
Aeryn shook his head.  “Nope, but I am giving you homework so you don’t get bored.  I want you to find the list of Havilan’s most powerful Specter’s, specifically the Casters.  But print me off a list of the other ones, I’d like to keep that for reference.”  He grinned, maniacal yet charming all at once.
“What makes you think I can do that?” Zia tried as hard as she could to make eye contact with him, but found her face was beginning to flush.  She knew just how easily she could get that information.
“Just get it done,” Aeryn chided, jumping back onto his glass steed, “and whatever you do, don’t Track them by yourself.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Zia faked a laugh, “why would I find them by myself?”
“Because I bet that’s exactly what you would do,” Aeryn narrowed his brow at her, “just get the list and wait for me to contact you.  Understood?”
“Clear as…Cindy, I guess.”  Aeryn dashed off down Burbrooke Common, leaving Zia to try and figure out what to do.
“I would never go by myself,” Zia mumbled to herself as she walked up to her front door, “I would go with Iscah.”  A sly smile crossed her lips then, her mind cranking out a solution to her idle problem.

Rushing down the Common, Aeryn knew that he shouldn’t leave Zia alone if she was anything like her brother.  But he had to test her, get her to understand just how dangerous Tracking was, and that it wasn’t something to be taken so lightly.
Yes, she had impressed him at the bridge, but talking to a Specter face to face was a little different than deducing clues in the sunrise.  He had a hunch that she would find the list soon, and then take that to interview the top Casters in the city.  And just as she was about to get into trouble, he would get her out, and give her Hell for it.

Thankfully Zia’s parents weren’t home to question why she was back within four hours of leaving for “work”.  Her mother was probably off at the hospital while her father buried himself in paperwork at the library; this gave her the perfect time to break into City Ark’s files and find the Most Powerful list she needed.
Hiding in her room, Zia opened up her stolen Ark laptop, another handy thing she had picked up while visiting her father at work.  It immediately asked for her login, and she typed it quickly.  The page brought her to the main archives, where you could search for something specific or browse particular folders.  Zia typed “Most Powerful” into the search engine but it came up with a red “NO RESULTS”.
She bit her bottom lip; that wasn’t right.  She began to try different searches but none of them gave her anything.  It was as if the files didn’t exist, but she knew they did.  They had to be in there somewhere.  After another ten minutes of searching folders Zia found nothing.
Groaning in frustration she closed all her open screens, deciding to start from scratch.  She stared at the screen, moving her cursor away from the large “New Havilan Directory” printed across the screen.  As she continued to stare she noticed something pop up under the cursor.  A small black box appeared, the same box that comes up if you hover over a file for too long; this box read “New Havilan Directory”.
“What?” Zia questioned aloud as she clicked the link.  Her screen flashed white, almost blinding her before thick letters crossed her screen and a countdown from 10 seconds; it read “ACCESS DENIED: AUTHORIZATION CODE REQUIRED”.  “Huh?”
Panicking Zia typed in her homemade code but it only brought her to a new screen, telling her that it was wrong.  Stupidly, she typed it again, and got the same result.  The countdown was at two seconds, when she noticed her CAPS LOCK was on.  Zia turned it off and typed her code one more time, as quickly as possible when her screen suddenly went black.
“No no no,” she said, holding onto either side of her computer as her heart raced, “please turn on…please?”  As if she had said the magic word, her computer flashed back on, bringing her right back to the directory; but this time it had different folders on the screen.  It listed all the types of Specter’s, from the Casters to the Demons and their companions.  Zia breathed a sigh of relief and opened the Caster folder.  It showed her one file, unnamed; she opened it and found the list for most powerful Casters in the city.
Only two names stared back at her; Malachi Fel and Achaicious laCoix.  Zia’s teeth showed as she grinned, happy that she was able to find what she had been looking for.  Under Aeryn’s orders, she opened every folder and file and wrote down every name into a spare notebook; not wanting to print them off because it would leave a file in the printer, which could easily be found by anyone.  It was something her father had installed under orders of the Ark.

Over an hour later Zia had finally gotten every name she could find, from every file in the directory.  She had already searched the two most powerful Casters and found their addresses and a few other happy details; details like Malachi was often found protesting for Specter rights, and that Achaicious owned a nightclub in the more upscale part of South Havilan.  Unfortunately it didn’t say who was stronger, but since this Malachi was top of the list, Zia assumed it was him.
As Zia wrote down the last name she noticed there was an attachment on the file that opened up to a photograph.  She was currently on demons, looking at a broken Manananggal, and winced.  She quickly closed the file and returned to the Casters, seeing that they had the same attachments.  With both photo’s selected, she printed them off, Ark imprinting system or not.
Two rooms over the printer jumped to life and she dashed out to get the papers.  The machine was working on the last photo as Zia picked up Achaicious’ photo.  He was a middle aged man, who aged very well if she had to state her opinion; he was standing in front of his club, Wraith, wearing a very expensive looking suit.  His black hair slicked back, much like Aeryn’s, but far shorter.  He had a classic sort of handsome about him and Zia would consider him so, if he wasn’t a Caster.  Achaicious had that villain look about him though, Zia thought.
The printer shut down and she picked up the next photo of Malachi Fel, but it didn’t really give her anything to go on.  It was a black and white photograph of a man in a crowd, circled with red marker, wearing a blank white mask and holding up signs written in Demon.  Her Demon was a little rusty, but it appeared to say something about allowing Specter’s to vote, and be considered citizens of Havilan.  Zia scoffed a little, thinking about how she would make sure that never happened.  Monsters and killers that preyed on the weak didn’t deserve that privilege. 
Taking in the man circled in red, she couldn’t see his face, only getting a rough idea height, and that he seemed to take protesting very seriously.  She shredded the paper instantly but took the one of Achaicious with her.  A buzzing in her pocket made her jump before answering her phone.
“Hey,” Iscah said on the other side, “how’s the uh, thing going?”
“Good,” Zia wandered back into her room, shoving the photograph into her side bag and slinging it over her shoulder.  A quick look around and she snapped up the notebook full of Specter names and hid it under her bed.  “Are you busy?  I could use your help with it a bit.”
Iscah laughed.  “My help?  Are you nuts?  I’m human; how could I help you?”
“Trust me, your human-ness will be very helpful,” Zia moved out of her room and threw her shoes on.  “Can you meet me somewhere?”
“Well…” Iscah thought for a long moment as Zia was already walking down her cobble pathway, “I don’t have to do anything…Tracker-y do I?”
“No,” Zia rolled her eyes, “you just gotta stand by me and look human.”
“Okay,” Iscah said in a sigh, “where are we going?”
“We’re going to a protest.”  Zia smiled, already sure that she was going to solve this case within the day.



Chapter 8:
The Western Border bridge between North and South Havilan was crowded, filled with Specter’s that pretended they were just as good as humans, or even Ventori.  Some of them appeared to be human, most of them probably Casters, as they lined up along the edge of the bridge with their signs in Demon and Human alike.
“Are you sure this is the place you want to be?” Iscah asked nervously, eyeing the Specter’s as they walked along and shouted at the City employees.  There were a few Ventori on the sidelines as well, waiting for one of the Specter’s to STRAY so they could take them to the Ark.  Zia looked at the two dozen Specter’s but wasn’t completely sure herself.
“It is,” she told her friend, sounding much more confident than she felt, “I’m just not sure which thing I’m looking for.”
“You don’t know which one he is?” Iscah took a step behind Zia as a Specter passed too closely for her comfort.  They stood only a few feet away from the protesters, but Zia didn’t flinch at them; they wouldn’t try anything illegal here, not at such a small protest.  She would only worry if they were closer to the North; that’s where they would really put on a show.
“Nah, the pic didn’t really give me anything to go on,” Zia crossed her arms and allowed Iscah to cower behind her, something she was used to; and with her so close by all Zia could smell were strawberries despite the underlying scent of iron being given off by the Specter’s.  That was something that only Ventori could smell with their heightened abilities because of the clan.  “Is there one in particular that gives you a bad vibe?  His power might be strong enough so that even you could sense it…even if you didn’t know that was what you were sensing.”
A young man walked past them, eyeing them through his shades as if it was strange for them to be so close.  He opened his mouth to say something, but when his head turned towards Iscah he shut it and continued on.  If Zia hadn’t known any better, she would have guessed he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to scare her.  Iscah held on tighter to Zia’s sleeve.
“That’s enough of this,” Zia said, wanting to hurry up and get Iscah out of here.  Now that they were there, she realized how bad an idea it was to bring her very skittish, very human friend with her.  Stepping forward she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention and said, “Alright you troublesome things, I’m looking for someone!”
Iscah flinched as each Specter slowly turned towards them, one by one.  Different sets of eyes fell on Zia but she never stepped back; she had to appear strong if she wanted to accomplish anything.  The Specter’s looked to each other, a seemingly human action, as if they weren’t sure what to do.
“I’m looking for a Malachi Fel,” Zia actually managed to step forward, with Iscah following her, clinging even more to her coat, “he’s about yay high,”—she held her arm up above her head—“likes to throw people off of bridges, maybe.”  She added the “maybe” with another wave of her hand.
A murmur spread through the crowd, and Zia caught the Ventori nearby give each other a glance.  She re-crossed her arms and began to tap her foot.  Nobody said a word to her.  Whether that was because Malachi wasn’t there, or because they didn’t want to give him up she couldn’t tell.
“Maybe he isn’t here,” Iscah suggested into her ear.  Zia shrugged her off and took another two steps forward, feeling bad for abandoning her friend.  But this was more important than giving her friend comfort; this was about finding a murderer.  She heard Iscah give out a small whimper behind her.
“I just want to know if he’s here,” Zia said, her voice louder now as everyone was watching her.  She pronounced each syllable clearly, “Mal-a-chi Fel.”
“What do you want with him?” a Specter on the left asked.  Zia looked at him with just her eyes, trying to appear as if she knew exactly what she was doing.  The thing that had spoken appeared to be a man in his late twenties, wearing a simple white shirt and jeans.  His sign said, “WE WERE HERE FIRST”.
Zia smiled at him, wide and hopefully menacing.  “I need to ask him something.  You know where I can find him?  I heard he likes protests.”  The Specter’s went quiet again.
“Maybe it’s him,” Iscah was suddenly right against Zia, whispering hot against her ear, “since he asked first.”
“No,” Zia didn’t bother to whisper, not caring who heard her, “it isn’t him.  He’s an Ice Caster, not capable of anything else.”
“How can you tell?”
“His earring.”  The Specter man instinctively reached up to the crystal earring hanging from his left ear.  Hoping that would have scared him a little, he instead smiled wide, showing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth.  They sparkled brightly.
“You’re not so bad for your age,” he laughed and came forward.  Not uncrossing her arms, Zia shifted her weight around, as if preparing for a tackle.  Nobody seemed to notice, except maybe the Ventori but they didn’t care.  The Specter shot a glance into the crowd and Zia followed his line of sight, her eyes falling on a blond man that stood there.  “But I hate to break this to you, I am Malachi Fel, you can call me Mal.”
The Specter claiming to be most powerful in the city was in front of Zia now, towering over her.  She lifted her head and matched his smile.
“Alrighty then,” she replied, “let’s talk then, out in the forest so it’s a little more private.”  The Specter only nodded once before turning his head slightly to glance over his shoulder.
Zia turned her back on him and stalked towards the small group of trees on the border of the bridge.  She walked right past the four Ventori that stood there and didn’t even glance at them.  This was going well so far, she didn’t want to falter by making them think she was nervous.  Just as she was about to set foot into the woods Iscah clawed at her sleeve.
“Are you sure we should go in there?” she asked.
“Yes,” Zia looked behind her to see that the Specter had handed his sign to one of his kind before heading towards her.  Her eyes skimmed over the crowd one more time and she turned back to Iscah.  “You can either come inside, or wait here with those guys.”  She gestured to the Ventori.
“I’ll come with—“
“Ready or not?” The Specter was behind Iscah, making her jump.
“I’ll wait here with them.” Iscah moved away from the Specter, who only gave her an odd glance.

“So what do you want to know?” the Specter asked Zia as they stood under the giant Oak trees.  Most of them were about three centuries old, and the grass that surrounded them was short but still wet with dew from the morning.  He crossed his arms at her and she mimicked him, mostly because that was the only stance she had that made her look a least a little more powerful.
“Well, Mal,” Zia resisted a laugh, “I’m a little curious what the most powerful Caster in New Havilan is doing hanging around some measly protest about equality.”  She rolled her eyes.
“I’m here to try and get the Ark to consider Specter’s citizens,” he said, not sounding as insulted as he should have, “we deserve the right to vote just as much as you do.  It could be an Accord signed with the rest next week.”
“I don’t vote,” Zia shrugged and began to wander around the area, touching a hand against a tree.  The bark was strong, thickened from hundreds of years of weathering violent storms.
“Why not?  Don’t you care about who leads the city?” the Specter seemed genuinely confused.
“I’m not old enough,” Zia looked up to see his expression.  She had anticipated him to laugh, but he only looked…insulted.
“You’re Ventori and you can’t even vote?” he asked.  The wind above them rustled the trees, blowing some loose leaves down on them.  Zia caught one in her hand, careful not to harm its golden exterior.
“Yup,” she crushed the leaf and dropped it to the earth, “and just because I can’t vote doesn’t mean I won’t.  You things don’t deserve that right, you’re made from the shadows after all.”
The man stepped back, dramatic as he peeked behind a tree next to him.  Growing tired of the charade, and tired that her plan wasn’t working she marched over to the Specter, taking a moment to glare up at him before whipping behind the tree and yanking the thing out from behind there.  She threw the second Specter to the ground, the blond man in sunglasses, and the men stared at each other in surprise.
“What are you—“
“You go away,” Zia ordered the older Specter who looked to his comrade.  The blond man nodded his head from the grass below and the fake Malachi left.  “And you, you better tell me you’re the real Malachi because I don’t like being lied to, boy.”
Zia pointed at him as she had the fake Malachi and the man stood.  He was taller than her, so again she had to look up at him, but he wasn’t nearly as burly as his friend.  His blond hair was buzzed short at the sides, to just above his ears where it was kept long and fell forward, almost into his eyes.  It was a recent trend in New Havilan that Zia didn’t approve of.  He brushed off his jeans and long-sleeved shirt before stepping back from Zia.  She wasn’t sure why he did that.
After a long sigh he admitted, “I am Mal.”
“You better be or so help you—“
“So help me what?” he held his arms around him.  “You cannot do anything to me because I am not STRAY.  So, I am sorry that we lied to you, but I needed to know what you wanted first.  My uncle—“
“Damn it, it isn’t you,” Zia cut him off and began to walk away when he caught her wrist.  She recoiled as if he had burned her, clutching at the part of her he touched.  Mal grimaced behind his sunglasses and held up his hands to show he meant her no harm.  She didn’t believe it.
“What is not me?” he asked.
“You’re not who I’m looking for.”
“Who are you looking for?” Mal lowered his hands to his sides, looking awkward under the trees.
“I’m looking for a murderer,” Zia said, crossing her arms so that she didn’t feel like a victim, “one of you things threw a girl from a bridge the other night and I’m trying to find out who.”  She tried not to widen her eyes but only barely stopped herself.  She really should not have told him that.
“Things?” Mal didn’t appear to care about the murder.  “We are not things.  We are people too.  You are Ventori, you should know that since you have to face some of the same challenges as we do when dealing with humans.”
“Hah!” Zia spun on her heel and began to stalk out of the woods; she could already see the light at the end of the trees.  
“Wait!” Mal was suddenly in front of her, a dark blue dust falling to the earth around him.  Zia jumped back, not expecting him to teleport into her pathway.  She had just barely avoided running into him.  “How did you know of my power?”
“What do you care?” Zia’s voice held the resonance of a shake, almost risking becoming a scream.  She tried to step around him but he sidestepped back into her path.
“Because only one person in the world is supposed to know,” Mal admitted, his brow furrowing, “nobody else knows.  So how do you?”
Zia eyed the man in front of her.  There was no way he was past the age of twenty, but he still held such a powerful title.  It scared her, knowing what he was capable of, but it scared her even more that he wasn’t using any of that power.  Why wasn’t he using a spell to make her keep her mouth shut?
“I’m Ventori,” she finally said, “I know lots of things.”  Even though she didn’t want to, she shoved a hand against his shoulder to push him out of the way.  She made it out of the forest and snapped her fingers at Iscah who jumped after her.
“You know it is people like you that are keeping us from our rights,” Mal came out of the forest and Zia didn’t even look over her shoulder.  “Someone should show you that Specter’s deserve to be citizens just as much as you do!”
His words sparked cheering from the other protesters but Zia didn’t do anything.  She just continued forward towards town, trying to think of every single way that that could have gone better.  It had started so perfectly and then turned around on her somehow.
“I-is it not him?” Iscah puffed out after she caught up.
“No, it’s not.”
“How did you know?” They passed by a Specter coming down the walk and she grabbed onto Zia’s arm.
“Because he apologized to me,” Zia sighed, “and he didn’t just kill me.”
“What does an apology have to do with anything?” Iscah’s voice was quiet, probably thinking of how Zia could have been killed and she just left her there alone.
“Because psychotic Specter’s who control more power than should ever be controlled and murder random people don’t apologize.”
“How do you know that?” Iscah stopped on the dirt path, not even flinching as more Specter’s and Ventori moved past her.  Zia stopped, took a breath, and turned to face her friend.
“Experience.”



Chapter 9:
The guilt of even thinking about leaving her mother to eat dinner alone overwhelmed Zia, making her sit in the kitchen as her mother flitted about.  Her father had to stay late at work, so it was just the two of them; something that happened quite often despite her illness.  Cash was often taking Win to the hospital during the day, which meant he would have to work nights.
“Did something happen at work today?” Win suddenly asked.  Zia looked up from her torn napkin and found her mother watching her from the stove.  “Or something with your boyfriend?”
“No,” Zia lied, “I just didn’t realize how many Specter’s would be around my job.  I don’t…I don’t like Specter’s.”  She didn’t admit how much she disliked the weak feeling she had gotten from Mal; or how stupid she had felt for confronting him alone.  There were a million things he could have done to her that nobody would have even known about.  Or he could have hurt Iscah!  The thought of Iscah getting hurt made her feel even worse.
Win sighed and sat down next to her daughter.  “I understand that what happened with Donataen was tragic…but Zia understand that not all Specter’s are like that.  They aren’t going to hurt you.”
“But that’s what they do!” Zia stood up and walked over to the kitchen sink, peering out into the setting sun.  “Specter’s are monsters, they’re made from the shadows and they’re very purpose is for…for evil!”
“Honey,” Win’s calm voice came from behind Zia, her frail hands encircling her daughter into a hug, “don’t think like that.  Please, I don’t want you to think that everyone out there is a monster.”
“I don’t think everyone is a monster,” Zia held back a sob, “just them.”

Her mother already in bed, Zia gripped Snow’s leash tighter.  Her neighbours dog, a small white ball of fur, padded around on the grass, sniffing but never actually doing anything.  Zia had taken the dog out every night for a walk since her neighbour had broken his leg and couldn’t.  She didn’t mind though, dealing with dogs wasn’t too different from dealing with children.
But tonight was different; Zia was still upset over what had happened with Mal and she was still resisting her gut instinct to head over to Wraith and talk with Achaicious laCoix.  But if Malachi Fel hadn’t been the killer, then that meant it was most likely Achaicious.  Something nagged at the back of Zia’s mind and she whirled around to come face to face with a tall, blond man perfectly capable of killing everyone and walking away.
“What in the name of the Light, are you doing here?” Zia looked around the street, grateful that she wasn’t in front of her own house, and actually at the end of the Common.  He couldn’t find her mother, at least not too easily.
The shadows from the leaves overhead covered Mal’s face, obscuring any view of his features.  Zia didn’t like that; she couldn’t tell what he was about to do.
“I want to help you,” Mal said, stepping back into the light and holding up his hands.
“Help me?” Zia gaped.  “What could you help me with?”
“With your case,” Mal looked around the area, as if afraid the Clan Guard was about to come down and take him away to prison.  “With Cindel’s murder.”
“What do you care about her?” Zia tugged on Snow’s leash and began to walk back home.  Not her home, but a home was good enough right about then.
“It’s not exactly her I care about,” Mal faltered as he trailed behind Zia, “not to say I don’t care about finding out who killed her, I just mean I want to prove to you that not all Specter’s are evil.”
Zia came to a halt and held a finger in the air, not even looking at Mal.  “So let me get this straight; you want to help me catch a psychopathic Caster killer to prove that not all Specter’s are evil?”
“Yes,” Mal confirmed.
“You’re an idiot,” Zia announced.  “I don’t want your help.  I have a mentor, thanks.”  She continued forward.
“You want to talk with Achaicious, don’t you?”  That stopped Zia again.  “I can help you contact him.  We have…met.”
Zia started moving again.  “Like I said, I don’t need your help!”

Something about her bothered Mal.  Maybe it was just her attitude towards Specter’s, or maybe it was just the way she treated him.  He had never been treated so badly, even by a Ventori.  But not one day ago she had yanked him out of hiding and thrown him into the dirt.
Mal’s shield shimmered under the moonlight as he watched the Ventori girl constantly look over her shoulder.  She still hadn’t returned to her own house after returning the dog to its appropriate owner.  He found her curious, and wondered why she didn’t return home yet.
He also wondered who the man was that was following her.  It was another Ventori, that much Mal knew, with dark grey eyes and shaggy brown hair.  He knew how to follow a person too, highly experienced.
Mal had considered leaving the girl and her stalker, but some strange part of him twinged at the thought of leaving her alone under some stranger’s stare.  So instead, he decided to wait it out, follow the Ventori girl to make sure this man didn’t attack her.  It was the least he could do since she seemed to be keeping his secret to herself.

Zia moved down the walkway towards South Havilan, muttering to herself about how stupid an idea this was.  She had gone back home, jumping over a few fences to get in the backdoor; there was still a chance that Mal was watching her.  But if she wanted to get into a club she had to dress the part, so tight jeans, an even tighter tube top with high heeled boots were a much better fit than her previous outfit.  Realizing how far she had to walk now though was making her change her mind.

About forty-five minutes later Zia was walking up to Wraith, her eyes trailing down the line that circled the block.  Bright lights lit up the entrance, but the Specter’s that awaited entry were shrouded in darkness.  Appropriate, Zia thought.  
As her heels clicked past the crowd they watched her.  She knew they sensed what she was, even if she had tried to hide it.  And feeling the weight of her dagger or her chain didn’t make her feel any safer as she came to the end of the line.  This will do no good, she thought.  There was no way she would get inside with a line this long, and there was no guarantee that they would let her in if she got to the front.  A Ventori in a Specter club?  She wasn’t exactly a welcome VIP.
With a sigh, she listened to her heels continue to click as she walked away from Wraith, preparing to find another way inside.

Mal couldn’t tell what she was doing, this Ventori girl.  She had gone back into her house and changed into a different set of clothes, only to come down to Wraith.  All the Specter’s were talking about her, questioning why a clan member so young would be there.  Thankfully most thought it was on a dare and chose to ignore her.  Some though…some were suggesting other things.  Things that made Mal cringe.
Losing his shield, Mal followed the girl into a nearby alley and watched as she tried to find another way into the club.  He was careful to keep an eye out for the stranger that was on her tail, but he had lost the man’s scent once they had passed the bridge.
Mal’s eyes peeked out of the alley, curious to see if the stranger was anywhere nearby.  But when he turned around he was suddenly looking down on the Ventori girl.
“What in the name of the Light are you doing here?” she asked him, for the second time that night.  He had forgotten he lowered his shield, and she could easily see him.
“I was just…following you,” he admitted, not wanting to lie to her.  Mal didn’t like lying, even if it was to someone like her, someone who hated and was so close-minded towards Specter’s.  “I see you are having trouble getting into the club.”
“I’ll get in,” she said, “so you and your creepy stalking self can go away back to your lair while I try and find a murderer.”
Mal grimaced in the darkness.  “I am not the one stalking you.  Besides, you Ventori girl, what are you going to do when you meet Achaicious?  Accuse him outright like you did me?”
“I’ll figure that part out when I get there,” she declared and whirled back around.  Mal felt a smile grow across his face as he watched her go.  He kind of liked that she didn’t back down easily, even to him.  But that tenacity was surely going to get her killed sooner rather than later, most likely tonight.
“I can help you,” Mal found himself saying as he took a step towards the girl.  A firm hand planted on his shoulder and he jumped to find the stranger there.  “Who are—“
“Zia!” The stranger called out.  She spun around again, ready to attack Mal but paled as she saw him.
“What are you doing here?” she, Zia, Mal noted her name, asked.  She seemed to ask that a lot.
“I’ve been following you,” he stepped forward and Mal’s stomach lurched upwards.  He dashed in front of the stranger, readying himself for a fight.  And a strong fight it would be; Mal hadn’t even heard this man approach.  Not a simple accomplishment.
“I do not know who you are,” Mal said, his fingers stiffening, “but I suggest you leave her be before I do something I will regret.”
Instead of leaving, or even cowering, the man laughed, loud and hearty.  He slapped another hand on Mal’s shoulder and pushed him aside as easily as Zia had in the woods.  “Calm down,” he said, “she’s my student.”

“Aeryn,” Zia came into the strange argument, eyeing Mal, “what are you doing here?  And why are you following me?”
“You know him?” Mal asked, his stature relaxing just slightly.  Zia only gave him a nod, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he had tried to protect her.  Such a strong Caster and Specter was ready to fight to save her; she just didn’t understand that.
“I thought you might look into the suspects yourself,” Aeryn shrugged, “which in most cases are very dangerous.  Present company excluded.”  He shot a look at Mal.
“Ah, thank…you,” Mal said back, unable, or unwilling, to make eye contact.
“But Zee, let me ask you something,” Aeryn rested a hand on Zia’s shoulder, “why aren’t you taking his help?  Do you not want the most power Caster on your side?”
“He’s a Specter,” Zia spat, “why would I want his help?”
“You can’t assume they’re all evil,” Aeryn gave her a pitying look and she hated it.  What was with this day?  Everyone was trying to convince her that Specter’s were good?  They were nothing but killers!
“I only wish to help you understand,” Mal said, taking a small step into the alley.
“I understand just fine, thanks,” Zia made sure her abhorrence came through to both of them.  She might admire Aeryn, but she wasn’t going to accept his thoughts on Specter’s so easily.
Aeryn grimaced and turned to Mal.  “You think you can get her in?”  He nodded in response.  “Good, then if you don’t mind, give her a hand.”
“I don’t need his help!” Zia shouted.
“Zia,” Aeryn sounded like he had lost his patience, “let him help you.  It’s dangerous in there; did you know entering there revokes the Accord keeping them from killing you on sight?”
Zia paled a little more in the dim light.  “But I’m not going to attack them.”
“But you carry a weapon,” Mal said, gesturing to her hidden knife, “that is all they need.”
“Wha—but…but…”
“Just take the help, since I can’t go in with you tonight,” Aeryn turned to Mal. “Look after her will you?”

Mal nodded to Aeryn before the Ventori quickly escaped the alley.  Zia seemed to have been too stunned to refute him, or maybe she was just too frightened.  But no matter what, Mal was determined to show her that not all Specter’s were bad; maybe if he could convince her, he would be able to convince those at City Ark.  Maybe this was the beginning of a new Accord.
“Fine,” Zia finally said to him, “but this whole working with you thing…not gonna last.  So just get me inside so I can do my job.”

Mal held his hand out to her and she paused.  She didn’t want to touch him, she felt like it would taint her if she did.
“It is necessary,” Mal said, moving until he was right beside her, “it is the only way I can pull you through.”
“Through?” Zia asked, roughly putting her hand in his.  They felt different than Aeryn’s, they were much smoother, and just a bit smaller, but still bigger than hers.  Mal turned his face towards the brick wall that separated her from Wraith.  He said nothing, and Zia blinked.  “What.  Just.  Happened.”
They were inside the building.  Just like that; one moment Zia was breathing in the stench of fresh garbage, now she couldn’t breathe from the smoke of the club.  They stood in the ladies washroom, surrounded by blinding lights and two Specter’s taking a smoke break.  The girls didn’t seem to care that Zia had just materialized by them and they walked out.
“You may want to keep hold of my hand,” Mal suggested, turning his face towards Zia, “there will be many people in here that aren’t fond of Ventori.”
“Like Light I will,” Zia said and tried to yank her hand from him.  She expected him to let go immediately, since his demeanor had been so meek before, but he held on.  Zia tried again but to no avail.
“I said I would look after you,” Mal said, pulling her face to look at him with her free hand, “and if you let go of my hand you will most certainly die.”
Zia was going to try and argue, but she found her mouth had dried up.  She had never really looked into Mal’s eyes before; he had been wearing sunglasses and outside it had been too dark.  But now, under the bright bathroom lights she had to think hard to form words.  Mal’s eyes were nothing short of magnificent, with a black pupil surrounded by the thinnest ring of blue and after that an explosion of violet extending over the rest of his eyes.  She felt herself staring, but Zia had never seen anything like this before.
“I am sorry,” Mal blushed just slightly as he moved his hair around on his forehead, “I will change it so you’re more comfortable.”
“Uh-huh,” Zia mumbled and watched as Mal’s eyes changed from inhuman to…well, more human.  The violet contracted and his eyes showed their whites, and the ring of blue dissipated to the edge of his pupil, as if being smudged outwards.  They were still strange but absolutely, “beautiful.”
“I will imagine that means this is better,” Mal smiled and pulled on Zia’s hand, dragging her to the door.  She covered her mouth, unable to believe what she had just said.  He was a Specter, there was no way she could think something like that.
“W-whatever,” Zia managed to say.
“Stay close,” Mal gave her another smile as his hand touched the door leading to the club, “and welcome to Wraith.”

Wraith wasn’t like anything Zia had ever witnessed before; the music roared overtop the Specter’s, who didn’t even try to hide what they were, and the stench of iron and whiskey stained the air.  As Mal led Zia through the droves of people, she found it difficult not to wrinkle her nose in disgust at the Vampire’s drinking blood, or the Demon’s snacking on raw meat.  And they want me to think these things are innocent?  She thought.
They passed by a small girl with what appeared to be rose stems for hair when Mal stopped.  Zia tried to pull out of his grasp again, but he held onto her.
“They can sense what you are,” Mal said, turning around to face her, “you need to hide your scent.”
“My scent?” Zia questioned, standing her ground as Mal stepped closer to her.  He leaned in to whisper in her ear and her stature stiffened.  Instinctively, she reached for her blade.
“We must wait for laCoix to reveal himself,” Mal whispered, “otherwise you will not find him.  Until then, stay close; the others might not notice you then.”
“How long will that take?” Zia moved her head to face him, but their noses were only an inch apart.  He smiled down at her and pulled her closer to the dance floor.  “What are you doing?”
“You need to blend in more,” Mal shrugged and snatched her closer to him, her body colliding with his.  They were in the middle of a mass of dancing Specter’s, none of them paying Zia any mind.  Mal put one hand on her waist and kept his other entwined with hers, moving her about under the flashing lights.
The smell of iron and honey filled the air now, overtaking Zia’s senses; being this close to Mal was beginning to give her a headache, or maybe it was just being surrounded by Specter’s.  As she avoided making eye contact with her dance partner she peered around the room, wondering how many of them were STRAYs.
How many things in that room had killed an innocent?  How many had fed upon a human just because it looked like fun?
Mal suddenly pulled Zia against him, trying to get her attention.  “You look frightened,” he said.
“I’m not scared,” Zia spat at him, “I’m disgusted.”
“You look of that too,” Mal pulled his lips towards his teeth, “do you wish to leave?”
“No,” Zia wrenched herself from his arms, bumping into someone else on the dance floor, “not until I find laCoix.”  The music stopped and all eyes were once again on her; even the lights had stopped flashing, narrowing in on her.  She looked around nervously, wondering what had set them off.
“Ventori,” a man growled, the one Zia had backed into, “what are you doing here?”
“I’m—“ Zia began but Mal quickly cut in, stepping between her and the stranger just as he had in the alleyway with Aeryn.  It looked strange, with his lanky figure against such a large man, but he didn’t show any fear.  He hadn’t even hesitated to step between them.
“She is with me,” he spoke loudly, ensuring everyone could hear.  “She is my companion.”
“Oh, like the Ligh—“ Zia was again cut off by Mal as he covered his hand over her mouth.  She glared at him over his fingers and only when she quieted down did her put his arm at his side.
“I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Delmont,” Mal said to the Specter, a werewolf, Zia thought, “but she is not Ventori, merely a descendant.”
“You best be careful where you take her,” the wolf said, “others might not be as welcoming to your…companion.”  Delmont’s eyes drifted over Zia, boring into her like rusty blades.  She knew he wanted to kill her, and that he could, and that the only thing stopping him was Mal.  Delmont snapped his fingers and the music started again, the lights began to flash and beam over others in the club.  Slowly, the other Specter’s went back to their dancing, and their drinking.  Nobody cared about Zia anymore, at least not when they found out she was Mal’s companion.
She didn’t like that, even if it was a lie.  Being a Caster’s companion was demeaning, and it made her feel dirty just thinking about the idea of him running his magic through her.  She shivered as they watched Delmont walk away, stalking into a backroom.  Mal turned to her.
“Who was that?” she asked as he took her hand.  He began leading her to the bar, his hands a little sweaty from…nerves?
“That was Mr. Delmont,” Mal said, “he’s laCoix’s assistant.”
Zia tugged on her arm but was still dragged up to the counter.  “Then shouldn’t we talk to him?”
“No,” Mal shook his head furiously, his blond hair shimmering under a lime-green light, “if Delmont is here then that means laCoix is not.”
Zia bit down on her bottom lip, silently cursing.  This was all for nothing then; getting so close to a Specter, being called a companion…all of it worthless.  She hadn’t learned anything relevant to the case, and she certainly wasn’t any closer to catching Cindel’s killer.  She thought back to how eager Aeryn had been to get her in here…was this why?  Had he wanted to teach her some kind of lesson?
“You are sad,” Mal stated quietly in her ear, “why are you sad?”
“Because I have to work with a thing like you,” Zia shot at him, “and because I’m surrounded by monsters.”  She ripped out of his hands and almost ran out the front door of Wraith, leaving Mal calling out behind her.  Zia had easily avoided touching any more Specter’s, and only when she was out in the cool summer air did she realize how hard it had been to breathe inside.
As her feet began to take her away from Wraith, Aeryn appeared, falling into step beside her.
“Figured it out yet, hotshot?” he taunted, knowing exactly what had happened.
“Why did you let me go in there, if you knew he wasn’t there?” Zia asked.  “And why did you make me go in with—with him?”  They each looked over their shoulders, watched as Mal came running from the club.  But when he saw Aeryn he stopped, and simply let them leave.  Zia’s eyes followed him as he walked off into the shadows; exactly where he belonged, she thought.
“Because believe it or not,” Aeryn looked at her, “he isn’t the bad guy here.”
“They’re all bad guys here,” Zia wrapped her jacket tighter around her, feeling the residual cold of being so close to so many Specter’s.
Aeryn didn’t say anything after that, and only walked Zia back to her house.  She had thought about arguing with him, yelling at him, or just pleading with him.  But she knew she wasn’t in her right mind to do any of those things.

Zia’s heels clicked loudly against the cobble walkway to her front door, dissipating out into the darkness around them.
“Wait here,” she told Aeryn and walked into her house.  Aeryn had been at a loss for words to try and help her overcome her hatred of Specter’s, but maybe for her that would only come with maturity.  After what had happened with her brother…Aeryn could understand how she felt.  The door clicked, and Zia appeared, handing him a notebook.
“What’s this?” he asked, taking the black book from her.  He opened it and flipped through some pages, seeing hundreds of names written in small, loopy writing.
“It’s the lists you wanted,” Zia shrugged and looked away from him, “of all the most powerful Specter’s in the city.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.  You gonna contact me?”
“I will.”
“Is this going on a report to Ms. Madsen?” Zia peeked up at him with hope.  Aeryn smiled down at her.
“Not a chance.”



Chapter 10:
The library didn’t seem as welcoming as it once had to Zia; that stale smell she used to love from her childhood suddenly just felt cold, and the sight of books only made her want to run and hide.  Last night hadn’t gone well…and suddenly all of her confidence was gone.  But that wasn’t going to stop her from talking to this little boy about his heritage.  If there was one thing she knew in this world, it was history.
“Ms. Noble,” the librarian said, coming around her desk, “it’s good to see you again.  Thank you so much for coming!”
Zia plastered a smile onto her face, not really feeling up to basic pleasantries.  “Not a problem, you said the kid doesn’t know about clans or anything?”
“Not really,” Mrs. Mayfield hesitated, “he’s only six and his parents are often working…but he’s been reading all the books he can since he arrived here.  I thought he might like to hear from someone actually in a clan.”
“Okay,” Zia followed after the librarian towards the back of the building, noticing that there was nobody else around.  There weren’t even other kids.  “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, they all went on a fieldtrip down to the park,” Mrs. Mayfield glanced over her shoulder, “Trenton…didn’t want to go.”  Zia only nodded.
She wondered if the boy was having difficulty fitting in; she had at first.  The children didn’t seem to care much if someone was in a clan, but a lot of humans felt differently.  And because the parents would usually warn their children of the “evil” clan members, the innocent ones would get ostracized.  Zia wondered how she would have dealt with it if she never had her brother.
After moving past rows upon rows of dust covered books, Zia came to the opposite end of the library.  The morning light shone bright through the large windows, illuminating four tables and a six year old boy who sat in the middle.  His legs swung beneath his chair, his nose stuck in a book.  Zia smiled, remembering how she was the same when she wasn’t out with her brother.  Books were a brilliant escape into history, and she loved them for it.
It must have been strange for a human to see a boy so young reading something so thick.  But it wasn’t unusual for a clan member, especially one of the Neith clan.  They were all brilliant, and most could read more than one language by the time they started walking.
“Trenton,” Mrs. Mayfield got the boys attention and he looked up with big, almost impossibly green eyes, “this is the girl I was telling you about, Kehzia Noble.  She’s a clan member like you, she’s here to teach you a little about what that means.”  Zia gave a little wave at the boy and sat across from him.
“Hey,” she said, and Mrs. Mayfield walked back to her duties, “you can call me Zia.”
“You’re part of my clan?” Trenton asked, face full of hope.
“No,” Zia set her bag on the table, resting her forearms in front of her, “I’m from the Medea clan.  You’re Neith, right?”  The boy nodded his head.  “Well you have a very…smart heritage then.”
Trenton lit up at that.  Questions started to pour from his mouth, asking about everything from what kinds of clans there were and where they originated to who their greatest heroes were.  Were there a lot of Neith in the city?  Why was everyone so secretive about the clans?  How many times did the Neith save the day?  Zia held her hands up to stop him, “Whoa, slow down, kid!  How about I start from the beginning, alright?”
He eagerly nodded his head, brown hair flying about.
“Okay,” Zia thought, wondering how she could tell him such a detailed history so he would understand, “I’ll start with the clans; there’s five of them: Neith, like you, Medea, like me, the Shakti, Raijin and the Jasper.  A long time ago they existed together, but not really united.”  She mashed her hands together.
“But they fought the shadows, didn’t they?” Trenton asked.
“I’ll get to that,” Zia stopped him from asking anything else, “but hundreds of years ago they were just people.  They didn’t always have the powers that they do now; though they did have certain abilities they were known for.  The Jasper were excellent hunters, they could track down anything anywhere in the world, but usually only for their own gain.  The Medeans were the swiftest and most cunning of them all, using their brains in a fight rather than their brawn, but that didn’t always outdo the Shakti, who were the strongest warriors of all.  And the Raijin were spiritual, they were excellent alchemists and healers.”  Zia paused, teasing Trenton.
“What about the Neith?  You forgot the Neith!”
“Oh, did I?  I’m so sorry,” Zia dramatically held a finger to her face, as if thoughtful.  “The Neith were the smartest, they could create anything they could imagine and often worked with the other clans to help build better houses or find ways to get better harvests.  You know kid, it’s because of the Neith that the clans were able to unite at all.”
Trenton clapped his hands as he inched forward.  Zia was worried he might fall from his chair if he tried to get any closer.
“The Neith helped the five clans come closer together,” Zia continued, looking out the window as she pictured it in her mind, “they would often bring them to each other when they needed help.”  She looked back down at the boy.  “Like if the Shakti clan ever needed something for their wounds, the Neith introduced them to a Raijin, or if the Jasper needed help getting a trap set up, they would show them to a Medean.  So over time the clans became friends, without even realizing it.  There was still a bit of tension though.”
“What about the shadows?” Trenton scrunched his face up, and Zia almost did the same remembering the werewolf from last night.  It reminded her of the faces she would make with her brother when she was a child; part of her heart chipped off then, never to be seen again.  At least it felt that way.
“They’re called Specter’s now kid,” Zia sighed, “because they’re ‘the witnesses’ of humanity.”  She rolled her eyes.  “They existed then too, unfortunately.  But the clans didn’t know about them, they were too far away, on another continent even.”
“Con-continent?” Trenton sounded out, moving his eyes around as he tried to look down at his mouth.  Zia explained what it meant and moved on.
“None of the clans are from here,” she said, “but there were humans here, and Specter’s.  The Jasper clan were not only treasure hunters, they were explorers, and when they came here most of them were wiped out by the Specter’s.”
“Not all of them,” came a voice from behind the shelves.  Zia turned to see Hayden creeping out of the History section, a superior smile across his face.  “One of them survived and went back to the homeland to tell everyone of what he had found.”
“What are you doing here?” Zia asked, getting even more annoyed when he sat down next to her.  He flashed her a smile, not unlike Aeryn’s mischievous grin.  Her stomach did a little flip, and she pursed her lips.
“I heard there was a kid wanting a history lesson,” Hayden leaned towards Trenton, “and I thought it would be good if he learned from someone who actually got into the Tracker program.”
“They let you in?” Zia couldn’t hide her astonishment.
“Yup,” he tossed her a wink and rested an arm on the back of her chair.  “Now who wants to find out what happened to the Jasper clan?”
“ME!” Trenton almost screamed.  Zia huffed and leaned back in her chair, letting Hayden take over as she contemplated how he had got into the program and not her.  He would know more about this topic anyway, since he was a descendant of the Jasper.  She was curious if he had picked his official clan yet.
It must have been hard, though she always pretended to think otherwise.  To have to pick a clan…it was devastating to one of the sides.  But she always thought he would pick Jasper, since he wanted to be Ventori.
“Well,” Hayden inched a little closer to Zia, and due to distraction she allowed it, “when the man returned to his fellow clan members, they sought help from the Shakti, thinking they would be good protection.  And the Shakti, being the hotheads that they were, couldn’t get to the new land fast enough.  Of course, when they arrived, they were almost all killed again. The few that returned then sought help from the Medea clan.”
“Who were smart and went to contact all the clans,” Zia came in, proud of her ancestry.  “They started to fight then; the Shakti wanted revenge for their fallen family, while the Neith wanted to leave the new land alone, since it had nothing to do with them.”
“But the Raijin didn’t care much about war or fighting, they wanted to know about the humans that were here.”  Trenton was quiet, absorbed by the story.  For a while, Zia almost forgot how much she hated Hayden and their years of competition; she kind of liked how good he seemed to be with kids.  “They wanted to know how the humans were handling it and they didn’t like hearing about how they were dying the same as the Jasper did.”
“So the Raijin thought for one day,” Zia said, leaning forward again as she came to her favourite part, “and finally they called upon the spirits of the world to help them.  At first the spirits didn’t want to, and they said it was for selfish gain, but the Raijin explained they wanted help to protect the humans; to protect themselves and save the new land from the shadows.
After consulting with the other clans, the spirits obliged, and gave them each gifts.  They gave them the power and the agility to battle the monsters, but also gave it to their children.”
“But that’s not all,” Hayden cut in, “they also gave each clan additional gifts, enhancing what they were already capable of.  And after training with their new powers, they came to the new land and fought back the shadows.”  Hayden began to punch the air and Trenton giggled in delight.  “They killed every shadow they could find until the land was safe, and the humans no longer had to hide at night.”
“Or so they thought,” Zia held up a hand, “the shadows had just gone into hiding, and thinking their job was done, so did the clans.  They didn’t want anyone to know of their abilities; it was actually the Neith that suggested hiding, in case something should come up and most of them returned to the homeland. ”
“But hundreds of years passed,” Hayden leaned back again, wrapping his arm over Zia’s chair, “and the clan members that stayed appeared as humans, their true history becoming legend.  Until the shadows came back.  They wanted revenge for their ancestors, and started killing whatever got in their way.”
“This was just over a hundred years ago,” Zia said, “and that was when Havilan the Light took over, and brought all the clans together; all but the Neith who chose to stay in the homeland.”
“Why didn’t the Neith fight?” Trenton looked sad then, and Zia didn’t really know what to say.  There wasn’t any explanation she could give him that wouldn’t make the Neith look bad; they stayed behind because they didn’t want to fight.  Instead she said, “The stayed behind because they wanted to find a way around the fighting.”
“But the other clans rose up and fought back the shadows, just as their ancestors did!” Hayden became animated again.  “And they brought back peace to our world.”
“After the second war, Havilan met with the Specter’s leaders and offered them a truce,” Zia smiled at the next part, “which is when the Neith came back and became the negotiators.  They created the Accords that we live by today.”

Two hours passed as Zia and Hayden explained what they could to Trenton.  The boy had a lot of questions, and not all of them could be answered.  Neith history was delicate, and most of it was kept away from anyone outside the clan.  But when Mrs. Mayfield appeared and told Trenton that it was time to leave he seemed disappointed.  They all said their goodbyes, and Zia promised to come back and visit him again.  Unfortunately, Hayden promised the same.
With a sigh, Zia slouched down in her cushioned chair and leaned her head on the back, only to remember that Hayden’s arm was still there.  She shoved it out of the way and closed her eyes.
Her bangs fell in front of her face, and she puffed out some air to get rid of them, but they stayed where they were.  As she was about to move them herself, a warm hand brushed them away for her and she opened her eyes to find Hayden had done it.  The soft glow of the sun was illuminating his features, and she didn’t remember him looking as good in classes as he did then.  She felt the blood creeping up to her cheeks when she sat up straight.
“I can’t believe you got in,” she mumbled to herself, embarrassed over her new feelings.
Hayden laughed, oblivious.  “Didn’t you?”
“I did…sort of.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she’s working with me,” Zia’s eyes shot open when she heard Aeryn’s voice.  Almost jumping from her chair, she stood and faced him.  He was looking as good as ever, silhouetted in a soft aura from the light that streamed through the front doors.  “We need to go.”
“Who’s that?” Hayden stood up, almost defensive as he stayed between Zia and Aeryn.
“My mentor,” Zia gave him a wicked smile, “Hayden Rider, meet Aeryn Rinehart.”  She walked over and patted her mentor on the arm, bag still swinging on her shoulder.
“Rinehart?” Hayden’s eyes widened.  “As in…?”
“Yup,” Zia spun on her heel and walked away, “see you in September!”  Aeryn followed her towards the front doors.
Just as she passed a row of shelves, a woman caught Zia’s eye.  She only caught a glimpse of the raven-haired woman, until she disappeared behind the books.  Zia stopped and eyed the row, stepping forward to get a better look.
“What is it?” Aeryn asked, almost bumping into her.  Zia looked at the two rows beside her, switching between them as she tried to find the person.  But she only saw a brunette walk out from the shade, reading a harlequin romance novel.
“Nothing,” Zia said slowly, trying to tell herself it was her imagination.  But as they exited the library she couldn’t shake the thought that someone had been there; that a Specter had just been watching her.

Everything was normal, the woman thought, but she still had the feeling that something big was about to happen.  This girl, this Kehzia Noble, was bound to get in the way sooner rather than later it seemed.  She tapped her nails on her desk, eyeing the photograph of the girl.
Half-bloods, she sneered, they’re next after the humans.
Because really, who wanted to live in a world with humans and Specters?
Her phone rang and she picked up right away.  “What?”  Her tone dripped with venom.
“Just thought you should know that things are going well at the hospital,” a familiar male voice said.  He was as arrogant as ever.  “The spells aren’t even detected.”
“Call me when there’s a problem,” she ordered and went to hang up the phone.  As she did, she heard him say, “What sort of problem could come up?  Nobody cares about vampires.”
The phone clicked, harsh and loud, the noise echoing in her bare office.
She tapped her nails again on the desk, getting louder with each click.  Her Shakti blood was coming through and she sensed a problem on the horizon.  But she decided to handle it herself, his Lord would not want to be bothered…not yet.
His plan was just beginning.



Chapter 11:
“Why are we here?” Zia asked Aeryn as they stood in the elevator of Havilan Memorial Hospital.  She had been trying to figure it out on her own, but nothing came to mind.  The numbers climbed higher and higher and Aeryn said nothing.  “Are you mad at me?”
“Aeryn didn’t even turn to face her, his eyes still on the numbers.  “Why do you ask?”
“Well,” started Zia slowly, “Iscah, my friend, when she’s mad at me, she does this thing when she hangs out with me but doesn’t really talk to me or pay me any attention.  It’s kind of what you’re doing now…”
Aeryn laughed and brushed his hair back with one hand.  Zia melted a little, thinking those combined actions were the sexiest thing ever.  He asked, “Are you saying I’m acting like a seventeen year old girl?”
Zia leaned back on the silver bar that encircled the elevator.  She had never been good at telling how people felt towards her, even though she was great at it when watching others.  She bit down on her bottom lip and confessed, “Kinda, yeah.”
“I’m not mad at you,” he shook his head and leaned back with her, finally taking his eyes from the blinking green numbers to look down at Zia.  He wondered, “Should I be?”
“No…I just thought you would want to like…punish me or something for last night,” Zia shrugged, unable to find a better word than “punish”.  How could it sound so scary yet enticing at the same time?  She held back a flinch; oh damn, was she that kind of girl?
“Do you want me to punish you?” Aeryn’s voice was terrifyingly soft and out of place.  Zia flicked her head up, not even realizing she had been having a staring contest with her feet.  As she opened her mouth to answer, the elevators dinged and the doors opened.  Aeryn waved his hand and said, “Let’s go.”
The Ventori walked out of the silver box, passing a few nurses in scrubs as they ushered a patient to another floor.  Fluorescent lights lined the ceiling, trailing down the hall as a man walked up to them; Zia recognized him, Father Killian.
“Aeryn,” he said, “I cannot thank you enough for coming.  No other Ventori wanted to take the case…they didn’t see what the issue was.”
“Not a problem,” Aeryn shook hands with Father Killian, who enveloped Aeryn’s with both of his.  “It’s good practice for the kid anyhow.”  The Father gave Zia a nod of acknowledgment and she only huffed after being referred to as a “kid”.
“There’s a case here?” Zia chimed in, wanting to take the lead a bit.  She would show Aeryn what a “kid” could really do.
“I believe so,” Father Killian herded them back into the elevator when the doors opened back up.  He pressed a button for the basement, which Zia recognized as the morgue.  “It will make more sense when we get down there.”

A few seconds later and Zia and Aeryn were following Father Killian down a dim, yellowed hallway.  Some of the lights were out, and the walls were stained with water marks.  Zia wondered why the hospital wouldn’t take better care of this area, it’s not like they didn’t have the resources.
“So why don’t you give the kid some background info Father?” Aeryn asked as they approached two large, silver doors.  Through the windows Zia could make out sets of cabinets, also silver, with small white boxes on them; the cold chambers.  A shiver ran through her as she thought of who might be in them…or if Donataen had ever been in one.  But then again, there wasn’t enough of him left in the end.
Father Killian looked over his shoulder, hands reaching out against the swinging plastic doors.  He shoved them open, with quite a bit of force, he said, “There’ve been four deaths in the past week.”
Aeryn and Zia walked through the frame, a rush of cold air and the stench of sour chemicals hit them hard.  Zia was fine, but she couldn’t hold back a laugh as Aeryn choked on it.
“Gonna live?” teased his student.  He covered his nose before quickly retreating backwards.
He moved towards the doors, mumbling something that sounded like, “I’m sensitive.”  The doors swung shut behind him and he peered in through the blurry window.  “You can take care of this part, I’m sure.”
“Uh…okay,” Zia turned back to Father Killian.  “Why are the deaths requiring Trackers?  This is a hospital.”
The Father’s eyes grew darker, their natural blue falling over the four sheet draped bodies in the center of the room.  His heels clicked when he moved towards them, the sound bouncing off of the walls.  He pulled back one sheet and whispered, “Because they were getting better.”
Zia came up beside the Father and looked down at the body.  She knew she was probably supposed to gag as Aeryn had, or feel her stomach sink, but none of that happened; she felt fine.  She had seen worse, even.  But she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone.
The woman before her was pretty, Zia noticed.  She was in her late forties, with short, greying brown hair and pale skin.  On her neck she had a few scars, almost like bite marks.  Zia hissed, “She’s a vampire!”
“Good deduction!” Aeryn’s muffled voice called out from behind the doors.  Zia glanced over at him but quickly returned to the vamp before her.
“Yes,” Father Killian agreed, “each victim had come in with a mild case of blood poisoning; there was a bad batch delivered to one of the hotels down south.  When they came in they were treated and about to go home when suddenly they just…died.”  He covered the woman with the sheet and moved on to the next.  He pulled back the next sheet, revealing a young man, no older than Zia.  He had similar scarring on his neck and chest.
“So?” Zia couldn’t stop herself from asking.  “They’re just vampires.  Does it really matter how they died?”  She turned to Aeryn.  “And why are we here anyway?  What about the other case?”
“It’s a favour for the Father,” Aeryn called back, “we’re still working both cases.”
“They might have been Specters, child.”  Father Killian sounded as if he had no patience left in him, “but they were not evil.  They did not kill anyone, and they did not deserve to be murdered.”
Zia held her tongue, not wanting to insult Father Killian further; he had been the one person on her review board that had wanted to allow her into the Tracker program.  Instead she sighed and asked, “How do you know they were murdered?”
“They were getting better,” Father Killian’s voice almost sounded like a whimper and Zia realized it was because he couldn’t stand to see anyone get hurt, not even a Specter.  “They were almost free to leave when someone took their lives away.”  The Father stroked back the boys hair, his touch barely there.
“Someone killed them long before now,” Zia whispered, staring at the scars on the boy, “but—“
“It only happens at night, you know,” he continued, “when they’re awake.  They must have been so scared, to know they were going to die.  They might have been Specters, Kehzia, but they were not monsters.”
Something about the way he had said “to know they were going to die” struck her.  Suddenly her view of the boy changed; he wasn’t a vampire anymore, she didn’t see him attacking some helpless human.  Suddenly she saw him in his hospital room, reading a book when something came in and killed him.
“Do you know how they died?” Zia asked quietly.  Father Killian covered the boy with the sheet, not moving down to the other two bodies.  She didn’t ask him to look either, not wanting to put him through that again.
“Blood loss,” he told her, moving back to take the woman’s arms into his gentle hands.  He revealed rope burns, markings from being strapped down to something.  “Three of them had been tied down somewhere and their blood was drawn out…I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”
Zia swallowed her fear and questioned, “What about the fourth?”  Father Killian looked into her eyes then, as if deciding what to do.  He glimpsed over to Aeryn, who only nodded his head before the Father moved to the fourth body.  Slowly, he lifted the sheet, and Zia almost screamed.
She couldn’t tell if it was male or female, if they were old or young, nothing.  They had been torn apart, sucked dry from whatever had killed them. A flashback to how she had last seen her brother shocked her mind, and she stared down.  Father Killian put the sheet back over and brought Zia away from the bodies.  She wasn’t sure what her expression must have looked like, but the Father didn’t seem to like it.

Father Killian took Zia out into the hallway with Aeryn, holding onto her arms.  She quickly pushed him away, insisting that she was fine, but Aeryn wasn’t so sure.
Her face was paler than normal, but it held no emotion; even when she had stared down at the mutilated body, she hadn’t even flinched.  It worried Aeryn, made him wonder why she wasn’t doing something a little more…normal for a girl her age.  But she hadn’t even blinked at the bodies, or gagged like he had at the smell of the place.  He wondered how she had reacted when she found her brother’s body in a similar condition.
It was hard to imagine that she had been the one to find her brother’s body, she even said that there was a Caster there.  Not that anybody cared; she was a teenager, so obviously what she saw was her imagination.  Aeryn wondered just how much she could remember from that night.  He would bet everything was burned into her mind.
“Any ideas hotshot?” he asked her, trying to get a feel for what she was thinking.  The three began walking back to the elevator when Zia said, “Can I see their rooms?”
“Of course,” Father Killian pressed the elevator button and the doors opened instantly.  They stepped inside.  “They were each in nearby rooms on the Specter floors.”
The ride up was quiet, with Aeryn and Father Killian risking peeks towards the young Ventori.  Neither of them could figure her out, and this was the opposite of what Aeryn had planned.  He had wanted to bring her here for another case to work on, but to also show her that Tracking wasn’t always night clubs and protests.  He had planned on her running out of the hospital, maybe in tears.  But all she did was tuck her short hair behind her ears, and count the floors as they rode towards the sky.  Donataen really hadn’t exaggerated about his sister.

Upstairs the Specter wing was quiet, only a few rooms were now occupied after the most recent death.  Zia stood and observed the private room of the first victim, the woman.  She didn’t bother to learn their names, she honestly didn’t want to.  It was bad enough she began to pity them for such horrid deaths, but she didn’t want to see them as having humanity too.
“What are we looking for?” Aeryn asked, leaning in the doorway while Father Killian stood awkwardly in the center of the room.  He kept folding and unfolding his hands together, as if the killer was hiding under the bed.
“I don’t really know,” Zia confessed as she made her way to the window.  It appeared normal, no scratches or broken glass.  It didn’t open either, being strictly there for aesthetics.  “Right now all I’ve got is that the killer most likely came in through there.”  She thrust a finger in Aeryn’s direction.
“Anything else?” mocked Aeryn, watching as she bent down by the bed to peer under it.  There was nothing else in the room to tell her anything; nothing mind blowing anyway.  There was a bed, a swivel hospital tray and a bathroom.
“She wasn’t killed here,” Zia looked to the ceiling but found nothing helpful there either.  “Let’s look at the other rooms.”
  When she went to walk past Aeryn the Father asked her, “How do you know they were not killed here?”
She turned to face him.  “No bindings anywhere.  She was taken somewhere else to have her blood drawn.”

The other rooms held just as much evidence as the first, and the last one had even less after being cleaned by the hospital staff.  Father Killian informed them that the death wasn’t being looked into by the Ark Guard, since it was a vampire and therefore not their problem; and other Ventori had no interest in stopping someone who was killing Specter’s.
“Are there any security tapes?” Zia asked the Father as they stood in the last room.  “We might be able to see something on them.”
“There are,” Father Killian said, turning to leave the room, “I will look into getting them for you.”
“Thank you,” said Aeryn and the Father left the room quickly.  Aeryn faced Zia, her eyes still wandering around, searching for anything that might point her in the right direction.  “You’re forgetting something.”
Zia peered at him.  “I am?  What am I forgetting?”
“Where were the bodies found?” Aeryn smirked and came into the room, the first time he had actually walked inside for any of them.
“I thought they were found in their rooms?”
“But were all of them?”
“No…?” Zia questioned, unsure of what he wanted her to say.  Aeryn shook his head.
“The boy was found in the staircase,” Aeryn explained, “not in his room.  Don’t assume anything for cases, it’ll come back to bite you.  Sometimes literally.  Anyway, do you have any idea what could have done this?”
“I have a theory,” admitted Zia, “I think it’s a vampire.”
Aeryn held back a smile.  “A vampire killing vampires?  Sounds like a bad movie twist.”
“Well that’s my theory,” Zia was insulted, just a bit, “they’re called Crusnik’s, or Black Angels.  They’re vampires that feed on other vampires.”
“Crusnik?” Aeryn sounded like it wasn’t even a word but Zia knew better; she was certain he knew better too, and this was only a test.  “Those are a little rare for these parts, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Zia shrugged, “but that’s my guess.  What do we do next?”
Aeryn raised his eyebrows, surprised maybe, that Zia would even ask him a question.  But she had decided that this was out of her hands, and that he was her mentor for a purpose.
“Let’s look at some video footage.”

There was nothing useful on the tapes.  They all conveniently went black after midnight, when the attacks occurred.  But much to Aeryn’s surprise, Zia theorized that if it was a Black Angel doing the killings, then it would most likely come back tonight after midnight.  There were two more victims of the poisoned blood, and since the attacks had happened every night since the vampires arrived, they would most likely happen again.
So Aeryn told Zia to wait with Father Killian while he went off on his own again, only after telling her he would retrieve his reduc-chains.  Now, Zia sat with the Father in the small chapel of the hospital, waiting for nightfall.
There was a soft light staining the altar a mosaic of blues, greens and yellows.  There were only six benches for people to sit on and pray, something Zia didn’t quite understand.  But the two other people in the chapel looked desperate, clutching their hands together as they spoke to their God.
“It must be hard to understand,” Father Killian said quietly beside her, “how we pray to a God that many do not believe to exist.”
“I believe in Gods,” Zia said back, eyes on the elderly woman two seats ahead of her, “that’s why I’m here today, isn’t it?”
“But it is not quite the same for humans,” Father Killian shrugged, his robe barely wrinkling from the movement.  “We have many religions, many Gods, so many cultures that believe in so many different deities.  Ventori all believe in the same beings.”  He looked down at his hands and entwined them together, eyelids lowering.  “You must think us crazy to fight over it.”
“I guess,” Zia relaxed a little on the wooden bench, pews, she thought they were supposed to be called.  The cross that loomed over her from near the candled altar seemed ominous, as if its presence was allowing someone to watch her.  “I don’t see why everyone can’t be right.”
That caught Father Killian off guard.  His eyes opened quickly and his hands fell to his legs, an astonished expression upon his face as he peered at Zia.  She quickly said, “Sorry, I guess you of all people don’t want to hear an outsider’s opinion.”
“Not at all,” said the Father, “everyone is entitled to their opinion.  What do you mean?”
Zia pulled her lips towards her teeth and confessed, “Well…why can’t everyone be right?  I mean, why can’t I have my Gods, the spirits that my ancestors prayed to, and you have your God, that created you and your world?  I heard of a place across the waters that believe in a deity that has multiple arms, so why can’t they exist too?”
Father Killian smiled, as if listening to a child speak their mind.  But Zia was a child compared to him, with his grey hair and crinkling eyes.  Soon he pondered, “It is a nice thought, for everyone to be right.  That after death everyone would go to their own version of Heaven…or Hell I suppose for some.  It is an interesting point.”
“Well it isn’t mine,” Zia spoke quickly, as if to divert the blame, “my friend Iscah told me about it.  She’s always like that, wanting everyone to win, y’know?”  
He chuckled.  “Yes, I know the type.  Is she Ventori as well?”
“Oh, heck no,” Zia laughed, sad and thoughtful.  “She’s human.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Father Killian set a hand over Zia’s, comforting but also pitying.  She knew why the Father would apologize for Iscah being human; it meant Zia would have to watch her die.  Clan members lived almost twice as long as humans, sometimes even into three centuries.  But she wasn’t sure if she would, since her mother was a human.  Not only that, her mother was a human with the sickness, and Zia carried the strain in her blood.  Sure, it couldn’t be transferred, and as far as anyone knew it didn’t affect clan members; but it could evolve again, mutate.  It was already on its third evolution after all.
“Anyway,” Zia pulled away from Father Killian as she crossed her arms, “um…how exactly did you come by this case?”
“I volunteer here from time to time,” he returned his hands to his own lap, “when I heard of the unusual deaths I couldn’t ignore them.”
“Even though they’re Specters?” The woman in front of Zia stood and walked out of the chapel, clutching at the cross that hung around her neck.  Her eyes looked so sad, but no tears fell.  Zia hoped things would turn out alright for her.
“The fact that they were Specters does not mean they do not deserve peace, and justice,” the Father explained.  “They were not monsters.”
“Now that is something I don’t really understand,” Zia began to push back her cuticles, no longer wanting to watch the flames flicker on the altar.  She saw the Father turn to her from the corner of her eye, but she kept her vision downwards.
“You will learn that isn’t true,” he told her, “I believe that is why Aeryn has taken such an interest in you, and in these particular cases he has you on.  He is trying to show you that the monsters aren’t always made from shadows.”
Zia pictured the vampire boy in her mind again, remembering the scars he had on him, the portable video game player that was still in his room.  She found herself asking, “What was his name?”
“Alaric Pentov.”  Father Killian didn’t even hesitate to answer, knowing exactly what Zia was thinking.  She could tell he was beginning to take down the wall around her, but just because a few vampires died didn’t mean she was going to trust Specter’s.  There was a reason Ventori existed, and it was solely to catch STRAYs.  The Father continued, “He had often volunteered here, he loved playing songs for the kids.”
“Hmm,” was all Zia could manage.  After a few minutes she asked, “He was found in the staircase, right?  Do you know which one?”
“I believe it was the Western staircase,” Father Killian replied, entwining his fingers again, “near the construction on the fourteenth floor.”
“I’m going to go check it out,” Zia stood and walked towards the chapel doors, taking in as much warmth from the sun as she could before turning to the Father and saying, “Thank you.”

Mal wasn’t sure how this man in black cloth had reached the Ventori girl, but he had.  Although she would never admit to it, he could tell that she was beginning to question her belief system; she was beginning to wonder if all Specters really were evil.
“You should talk to her,” the Father said, his eyes still shut, hands near his face, “she needs another push, and you might be the person to do it.”  Mal blinked and dropped his shield, knowing that the Father was talking to him.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked.  This man was a human, and even the Ventori could not sense Mal’s company…so how could he?
“An old man has his ways, child,” the Father shrugged, lowering his hands and opening his eyes to gaze upon the cross at the front of the chapel.  Mal followed his line of sight and watched the object, strangely unnerved by its presence.  The Father’s blue eyes then fell on Mal, and he said, “You should talk to her again; Aeryn told me you protected her.”
“I did what I could,” Mal stood, ready to find Kehzia and strangely wanting to.  Something about her stuck with him, something he didn’t want to let go of.
“It might be best you stay with her,” the Father suggested, “she is very much like her brother…she doesn’t think about what she does, she simply…acts.”
Mal said nothing else, growing confused by the mention of Kehzia’s brother.  He had watched her for over a day now, and had seen nothing of a sibling.  He walked out of the chapel, leaving the Father to his prayers.

The woman roared as she swept her papers from her desk, a glass shattering on the floor next to them.  She swore loudly, not caring who heard.  That damned Rinehart!  He was bringing the Noble girl to all the wrong places; her plan was being threatened.  No, His plan, she reminded herself.
She ripped the phone into her hand and dialed; it picked up quickly.  She said, “Fix it, or you’ll be taking a long vacation in the catacombs Specter.”
“As you wish, my lady,” the dark voice chuckled.
She hung up.  This would be fixed, even if another Noble had to die.



Chapter 12:
There was no evidence in the staircase that would tell Zia where the vampire boy had been found.  The only thing she was able to go off of was the construction Father Killian had mentioned.  Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, giving an ominous, inconsistent darkness to the hallway.
Zia stepped under the grime coated plastic separating the fourteenth floor from the staircase, careful to look around her.  The hallway was long, with white plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling to cover everything.  The renovations must have been put on hold, she thought, while the new Accord was being signed at City Ark.  The lights created a glow that almost looked like the moons on a cloudy night, their reflections bouncing off the walls.  As she stepped further into the hallway her foot slid, almost toppling her to the ground.  She managed to catch her balance against the wall, cursing herself for not being a little more graceful.  Ventori weren’t supposed to slip.
Once she had steadied herself she looked down, checking to see what it was that had caused her private humiliation; blood.  Not a lot of it, but enough drops to make her slip on the plastic construction sheets.  Kneeling down she got a closer look at the red liquid, unable to tell if it was Vampire or human.  Considering the recent spike in Vampire deaths though, she would bet it was one of the victims.
“It’s his,” came a voice and Zia whirled around to find Mal coming through the doorway.  His hair was matted and he wore the same clothes as when she first met him; hadn’t he gone home?  Ignoring her strange concern for him, she put her hands on her hips.
“What are you going on about?” questioned Zia.  Mal’s eyes shifted from their usually unusual violet to a more normal one as they fell to the blood at their feet.  He stepped up to her, eyes never leaving the blood that was on the floor.
“It’s Vampire’s blood,” Mal looked up, face solemn but somehow unreadable, “this is where he most likely died.”
“And you’re here to what, confess?  I know it wasn’t you,” Zia rolled her eyes and spun back around, avoiding the blood.  She took another step in and peeked through a plastic curtain.  The room on the other side was empty, just like the hallway.
“I do not understand,” Mal spoke slowly, as if he wasn’t sure what words to use.
“What don’t you get?” Zia sighed, moving across the hall.  “A confession is when someone is guilty and they want to be punished for their crimes.  And you—“
Mal cut her off.  “I do not understand why you speak of my innocence yet hate me.”  Zia turned this time, her hand still placed on a sheet, ready to pull it back.  He almost sounded heartbroken, she thought, but quickly shoved that thought away.  What she couldn’t push away though was how it made her feel guilty.
“I don’t…” she started to refuse but couldn’t.  It wasn’t that she hated him; she hated what he was.  “I just don’t like Specter’s.”
“Have you always seen us as such monsters?” Mal followed Zia as she continued down the hallway, even checking in the rooms she had.
“Not exactly,” she mumbled to him.  Now was not the time to have a bonding moment with a Specter, she told herself.  “Didn’t really care either way when I was a kid.”
“What happened?”
Zia found a room that felt different, the fifth room she had checked.  Just before she stepped under the pearly sheet, strangely cleaner than the rest, she said, “A Specter killed my brother.”  Zia stepped into the room, allowing the sheet to flutter shut behind her.

Mal paused in the hallway, wondering if he had heard her right.  Her brother? he thought.  When he heard her shuffling inside the room he was brought back to his senses and tossed the sheet aside, letting it fall to the ground.
“I-I am sorry,” he stumbled, “I did not know.”
“Yeah, not exactly something I share with every Specter I meet,” Zia was walking around the room, arms out in front of her as if she were blind.  She flailed them about, momentarily distracting Mal.
He asked, “What are you doing?”  He continued to watch as she moved around the room, occasionally stopping to glance around.
“What do you care?”
“I meant it when I said I wished to help you,” Mal’s eyes drifted over the sheets in the room, also noticing that they were much cleaner than the others on the floor.  Finally it hit him, the magic that was absorbed to hide something.  Mal gasped and blinked hard, feeling its strength and wondering how he had not felt it before.  While Zia wandered about in the room, Mal soon said, “You will not find anything that way.”

“Why not?” Zia asked, stopping herself from waving her arms.  She turned to Mal, the man she had just told about her brother’s murder, the first person she had talked to about it since it had happened.  Well, second next to Iscah.
“I can allow you the sight,” he told her, waving his hand from her to come to him, “but that is all.  If I break the glamour it may alert the Caster that it has been found.”
Zia approached him, wary that he may be tricking her and as he raised his hands to her head, she flinched.  He only gave her a weak smile before she closed her eyes, and touched his fingers to her temple.  A small, static shock ran through her body and she opened her eyes, her face not far enough from Mal’s.  When she tried to stumble backwards she bumped into something.
Spinning around, expecting to see another Specter she found what she had been looking for.  The once empty room that she knew wasn’t really empty gave up its secrets to her.  What she had run into was a hospital stretcher, with large brown leather straps set where a person’s arms and legs should be.  There was more hospital equipment that Zia recognized, but could never name; it was meant for drawing blood.
“It is Achaicious’s work.”
Zia jumped at Mal’s voice
“He has written the spell to hide all of this.  How did you know it was here?”
“I could sense it,” was all she said and left the room.  Mal quickly followed suit, his feet crinkling the plastic sheets that covered the floor.  “We need to leave before it comes back though.”
“Ah, yes,” Mal nodded when they reached the stairs, “the Black Angel.”
“You know about the Crusnik?” Zia almost tripped over her own feet as she headed down to the chapel.  “How—“
“There have been whispers,” Mal looked wistfully upwards, “about new Specter’s coming into the city…I’ve heard things about…” His eyes drifted down to Zia, who was holding her breath.
“About…?” she prodded.
“It is irrelevant,” Mal shrugged and walked past her, “but you should get reduc-chains, so that he is unable to use his strength.”
“I know what reduc-chains are!” Zia shouted as Mal disappeared down below.  She hurried down and expected him to be gone, vanished into the air but he was there, waiting for her when she rounded the corner.
“You look surprised,” Mal tilted his head like a confused puppy.  Zia felt something inside her shift and she stepped back, up one step so that she felt just a little bit safer.
“I just thought…nothing,” Zia snapped her mouth shut and pushed against Mal’s shoulder to move him.  “I need to find Aeryn.”

Aeryn finally showed up, after another hour of Zia waiting inside the chapel with Father Killian.  She had been trying to wrap her mind around Mal, to figure him out but she couldn’t think of any real reason he would want to help her.  He almost seemed to be worried about her, and the intense way he looked at her with his strange Specter eyes made her feel like she was the only person in the world.  He was intense, and she didn’t know what to think of it.  A sigh escaped her lips, and her mentor noticed.
“Something wrong?” Aeryn asked, a playful tone in his voice.  He held up the reduc-chains and passed them to her.  Zia took them, confused.
“No, why would something be wrong?” she questioned back.  The reduc-chains looked like regular handcuffs the human police in New Havilan would use on regular people, but a lot thicker.  The links that bound them together were made with steel and iron, something that was hard to come by these days.  Well, the pure stuff was hard to come by these days, since it was one of the only common weaknesses Specters had.  It had to be shipped from overseas, and many of the boats sank before even arriving.
Something shifted in the sky, and the chapel grew darker.  When Aeryn only gave her a quizzical look, she added, “I think Achaicious is involved in this.”
“Why’s that?” Aeryn was already moving out of the chapel, Father Killian and Zia close on his heels.  The chains dropped down and clinked as she walked, and she couldn’t ignore this strange tightness in her chest.  Was this fear finally coming for her?  Was Kehzia Noble finally afraid of something?  The only image in her mind was of Malachi Fel, and she felt the answer was yes.
“He’s done a spell to hide where the Angel’s killing grounds are,” Zia explained, only half listening to her own words.
Aeryn stopped suddenly, turning to face her.  He asked with a smile, as if already knowing the answer, “And how do you know that?”
Zia paused, wondering what she should say.  But she confessed, “Mal told me.”
Aeryn’s eyebrows rose.  “So it’s Mal, now?”

Aeryn couldn’t help but smile to himself as he and Zia waited in the room across from the last vampire in the hospital playing cards.  He couldn’t believe her progress with Specter’s, specifically this Mal kid.  Aeryn knew she had good reason to hate his kind, a very good reason, but she was already calling him by his name.  Without any malicious tone, or anything.
“Five,” Aeryn said, and Zia groaned.  She passed him a small card, and he added it to his pile.  He was winning by a landslide, and she wasn’t very good at memory games.
It was almost midnight, and they were awaiting the arrival of the Black Angel, in hopes of catching him in the act.  Aeryn knew that it would be arriving soon, but they were just waiting on Father Killian’s signal from the security office.  He was watching the cameras, waiting for any of them to black out; that would be the Ventori’s cue to get moving.
As they continued to play cards, Aeryn wondered if Mal was still nearby.  He was a strong Caster, and it was almost impossible to sense him.   He also seemed to have a strange interest in Zia, and proving to her that not all Specters were bad.  Aeryn resisted the familiar twitch his lips did as they stopped a smile; did Mal have a crush on Zia?
“Three,” Zia demanded, hand already held out for the card.  Aeryn shook his head, and she drew from the deck with a scowl.  She said, “It’s almost midnight, you know.  We should radio the Father and see what’s going on.”
“Alright,” Aeryn said, and reached next to him for the small black box connecting them with the security room.  He clicked the button and asked, “Hey, Father, any signs yet?”
When his finger released the side there was only static coming through.  Zia’s eyes met Aeryn’s, and they both instantly knew something was wrong.  Aeryn asked again, but there was still no reply.
“I need to check this out,” Aeryn stood, the card game long forgotten.  “You stay here, and whatever you do, don’t go outside.”
Zia nodded her head, but even Aeryn knew that nothing would stop her.  She was too much like her brother, he thought.

Zia wasn’t sure what was putting her on edge all night.  She tried to tell herself that it was just because she was about to catch her first STRAY Specter, and that the uneasy feeling in her chest had nothing to do with Mal.  But she knew it did, and it was a new feeling for her.
Aeryn’s footsteps padded down the hallway, and soon Zia couldn’t hear them anymore.  She sat on her little chair, the table of cards in front of her, along with the reduc-chains.  She had never used them before, but she knew how they worked; just like regular handcuffs, but if thrown right, would automatically latch on to the target.  Although she did wonder how strong a Black Angel would be even with his power taken down.  If she could get them on him before he feeds—
A click caught her attention.  Silently she stood, her hands moving over the chains but not quite touching them…yet.  Something shifted outside, and she yanked the chains from their spot on the table, rushing for the door.  She swung it open to reveal an empty hallway.
Zia stepped outside, and looked up and down under the dim lights.  Nothing.  She pursed her lips, and just as she was about to head back into the room she sensed something.  It was just behind her as she stood looking down the hallway, a shadow on the edge of her mind.  Slowly, she knelt down and reached into her boot, pretending to tie the laces.  When she heard a shuffling, she whipped up and around with her blue chain and hit Mal right across the face with it.
He jumped backwards, barely making any noise despite the large burn that now blazed across his cheek.  Zia pulled the chain backwards and it wrapped around her hand, no thicker than a necklace, but long enough to reach her enemies while she stayed a safe distance away.
“What the Light are you still doing here?” Zia tried not to yell, but it was hard.  And she knew exactly why he was there; he wanted to help her.
Mal’s fluorescent eyes were watery, but he held back any tears he might have had.  Zia felt a little guilty as he reached up and touched at the thin line on his cheek, the burn she had made for him with her magic weapon.  She opened her mouth to apologize, but found she couldn’t say the words to a Specter.
“I am here to help,” Mal predictably said, and he wiped at the wound.  In a single swipe of his hand, it was gone, as if it had never happened.  His eyes fell onto the blue chain wrapped around Zia’s left wrist, and then on the reduc-chains that were in her right.  He asked, “How do you have cobalt?  That is the rarest of ores.”
“I know,” Zia smirked, “I have my ways.”
“I am sorry for scaring you,” Mal went on, looking like a guilty puppy as his hair hung in front of his face.  Something tugged at Zia’s heart, and she ignored it.
“So how do you expect to help?” Zia placed a hand on her hip, trying to will away her guilt.  He shouldn’t have snuck up on her like he so often did; he was a Caster, and she would not feel bad for hurting him.  Besides, his wound was perfectly healed now.
“I want to help the vampires,” Mal explained, looking towards the closed door next to them, “I was worried that the Black Angel may be hidden with Achaicious’s magic.”
Zia tried to argue with him, but couldn’t.  He had a valid point; if Achaicious used his magic to hide where the Angel took the vampires to kill them, there was a chance that the creature itself would be hidden.  But in the next room, sitting next to the cards, the radio buzzed, and Aeryn’s frantic voice came over the speaker, “Zia, get out of there!  Killian was attacked and the cameras are blank!  The Angel’s there, now move!”
She was standing in the doorway now, running to try and communicate with Aeryn when Mal suddenly grabbed onto her arm.  She was ready to strike him again with the cobalt, but when she faced him he wasn’t even looking at her.  Her feet came back into the hallway, and a hiss slithered down the hall.  Zia turned, slowly and cautiously, to find the source of the noise.  The Angel had come, and he didn’t look happy that there was an obstacle in the way.
The Black Angel looked nothing like Zia pictured, but then again, she hadn’t really thought of it.  A man stood in the hallway, shoulders hunched and ready to pounce.  He wore a black overcoat, with long, blond hair reaching down to his hips.  Beneath that was a black suit, with polished black dress shoes.  He was, Zia thought, beautiful, just as beautiful Mal’s eyes.
Mal raised his hand, ready to do a spell when the Angel straightened his back.  The Caster paused, unsure of what to do when the enemy reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a piece of paper.
“No!” Mal cried, but it was too late.  The Angel slapped the paper onto the wall, and with a snap of his fingers Mal was gone in a haze of green and white dust.  Behind the Angel Zia caught a glimpse of that same dust coming around the corner, but she didn’t have time to think about it and jumped away from where Mal had once been.  He had been banished, and Zia found herself hoping it was only temporary.
“From Achaicious,” the Black Angel said, his words thick with an accent Zia didn’t recognize.  “Banish all Casters within area.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Zia said loudly, “I can take you.”
The Angel smiled and pulled another paper out of his jacket.  He grinned wider, “For Ventori.”
Zia acted quicker than the Angel anticipated, and even quicker than she thought she could.  She swung her cobalt chain around her, and flicked it at the angel, knocking the paper out of his hand.  It fell into two pieces to the ground, and burned up as its magic disappeared.  “Nobody’s banishing me to the shadows tonight.”
The Angel hissed at her, claws protruding from his hands now.  Zia swung the cobalt back at him, and it wrapped neatly around his wrist.  She smiled, watching as the chain burned him, even through his clothes, but he gripped onto it.  His skin sizzled, and Zia tossed the reduc-chains in his direction, hoping they would latch on the way they were supposed to, but they missed and clanked against the floor.  The Angel yanked on the cobalt, and it shattered into a hundred tiny blue pieces.
“Not good enough, Ventori,” he laughed.  But Zia smirked this time, and the Angel paused.  Her eyes fell to the blue pieces between them, and his followed.
On the floor, the cobalt chain that had been taken apart so easily was beginning to meld together, gathering at the center to reform itself.  In a matter of seconds the chain was back together, but still out of Zia’s reach.
The Black Angel moved quickly, and lunged at Zia before she could grab onto her chain.  He tackled her in the chest as if it were a sport, and she flew backwards.  The pain was unimaginable, and she felt a dull throbbing in her bones when she connected with the staircase door, and then the railing.  She went over, and her hands scrambled to grip onto the metal before she plummeted to the basement.  The Angel was gone.
Everything hurt; she had never been tackled before, especially by something as strong as a Specter.  But like most of her feelings, she ignored it, and pulled herself upwards.  It was easy to get over the railing once she had regained her footing, and she launched herself towards the door when she heard footsteps.  She only wished she had her chain back.
The door had shut, and Zia didn’t wait for the Angel to come and get her; she kicked the door open, fists up and ready to attack.
“Whoa there!” Aeryn said, an amused smile on his face.  He was holding her cobalt chain, along with the reduc-chains.  Without a word Zia grabbed the blue links and wrapped it safely back around her left hand, leaving a small length to dangle at her side.  She sighed, as if everything was all better now.
“Let’s go,” Zia ordered, and Aeryn just shook his head.  “What?”
“No hurry,” he shrugged and moved out of the doorway to show Zia the Black Angel.  He was pinned to the wall by pale bindings, as if the paint itself had come alive to trap him there.  It was slick and appeared as if it could break any second, but each time the Angel moved it only tightened on him.  Across from him stood Mal, just staring at him with a blank expression.  Zia walked up with a little too much fury, and Aeryn only trailed behind.
“What’s this?” Zia pointed to the Angel as her feet slid through the green dust.  It was Caster dust, the green indicating an intermediate spell.  But everyone there knew that banishing someone was forbidden, even to a Specter.
The Angel roared at them, and another piece of the wall came out to cover his mouth.  Mal said, “Are you alright?”
“What—yes, I’m fine,” Zia lost all her anger in that moment, as Mal looked at her.  He looked so worried, so ashamed that she had been hurt, and she felt another tug in her chest.
“A-are you?” she managed to ask, though the words felt thick and awkward across her tongue.  She had never thought she would ever ask a Specter if he was okay.
“I am fine,” Mal gave a small smile, and Aeryn held the reduc-chains to Zia.
“I think this one can go to you,” he said, and absentmindedly Zia took them.  She placed one part of the chain around the Black Angel’s wrist, and Mal let him down.  Zia finished handcuffing the Specter behind his back, and he was now powerless.  Aeryn added, “Let’s get to Ventori Ark then, shall we?”
As they walked out of the ward, Zia couldn’t help but notice more of the green dust coating parts of the hallway.  She knew it wasn’t from Mal’s banishing, but that meant another Caster was there.  Zia bit down on her bottom lip, wondering who it could be, but she had a feeling she would find out soon enough.

Aeryn couldn’t help but notice how quiet Zia had been after catching her very first STRAY Specter.  He had thought she would be ecstatic, and bugging him for another case.  But as they walked into Ventori Ark, she seemed to be lost in thought.  Mal had gone off once Aeryn had told him to, and he went too willingly.  Aeryn wouldn’t have been surprised if the Specter was following them.
“Over there,” Aeryn pointed Zia towards a small line on the far end of the room, and she obeyed without a word.  The Black Angel seemed drained of all his energy, whether it be from the reduc-chains, or not eating, Aeryn didn’t know.
“Do you think he really wants to help me?” Zia asked, never taking her eyes from the front of the line.  Aeryn had a feeling it was because she couldn’t face him, and he sighed.
“I think so,” he confessed, “he isn’t a bad kid.”
“He’s a Specter.”
“That doesn’t make him bad,” Aeryn shrugged, “it’ll be good for you.”
“I don’t like Specter’s,” Zia stepped forward as the line moved, taking the Black Angel with her.
“Are you sure?” Aeryn stepped up.  “You shouldn’t judge one man based on what his race is doing.”
That earned a chuckle from the Black Angel.  He kept his head low, his eyes just barely opening to reveal that his eyes had begun to turn black; showing a weakness in his power.  He said, “You think that a Specter and Ventori could be together, Rinehart the Unbreakable?”
“I do.”
“You think a Specter and Ventori could love one another?”
“I do.”
Aeryn was hoping Zia was listening carefully, and when he peeked at her from the corner of her eyes, he saw she was watching the Black Angel.
“It comes,” the Black Angel declared, and even Aeryn had to hold back a shiver, “you will see.”
“What’s coming?” Zia asked, but the woman behind the glass called them to the front.  Aeryn shoved the Angel forward, and hoped Zia wouldn’t ask any more questions.  But he knew that was never going to happen.



Chapter 13:
“So what’s going to happen to him, exactly?” Zia asked Aeryn as they stood in yet another line at Ventori Ark.  They had handed over the Black Angel to the Light Guard, and he was now being escorted to the catacombs beneath the city; but what happened down there was unknown to anyone else.  Zia assumed that Aeryn must know, since he had such a high rank within the clans.
“He’ll be put on trial,” Aeryn shrugged, still giving her strange glances from the corner of his eyes.  She couldn’t help but notice how upset he had seemed since the Angel had said something about a Ventori and a Specter working together.  Of course, it had shaken Zia as well.
“Then what?” questioned Zia.  “Will he be sent into the wild lands out west?”
“Depends what they say,” Aeryn was being strangely cryptic.  “But this will look good on the report to Madsen.”
Zia perked right up.  She had almost forgotten that Madsen, the woman who hated humans so much, wanted Aeryn to file a report on her progress.  She thought of how she had worked with Mal, and wondered if that would be included.  If she hated humans, Zia wondered what she might say about Specters.
“What are you going to say on it?” Zia asked before she could stop herself.  Aeryn gave a small smirk.
“Exactly what happened,” the Ventori replied, “we need to fill out a status report and file it with the education sector two floors up.”
“Even about Mal?” Zia looked up at her mentor, but she never really saw him.  She just remembered the Caster, and how he had been banished, and how there was just too much green residue left over from it.  Zia knew someone else was there, but she didn’t know how to ask Aeryn about it.  Had he noticed?

Aeryn was glad that Zia had finally started calling the boy by his name, but it worried him too.  He had seen what partnerships between Ventori and Specter’s led to, and it never ended well.  But the fact that she was no longer referring him as an “it” or a “thing” was a start.  He suggested, “We might leave him out.”
And for the first time, Aeryn caught a look of relief from his pupil.  He only hoped that his own feelings weren’t written as clearly on his face as hers were.
He wondered why she would be so relieved that he agreed to leave Malachi Fel out of the report.  But Madsen had been rather cruel when it came to humans, and he knew her opinion on Specter’s, but Zia didn’t.  Something was off, and he couldn’t place what it was; maybe it was just the charm that had been put on the front doors of Ventori Ark…

Well over an hour later, and after a lot of writing, Zia had finally completed all her necessary paperwork.  But that didn’t mean she and Aeryn were free to leave Ventori Ark; they still had to wait in line for something else, something he wouldn’t tell her.
“Is it money?” Zia questioned, growing more and more curious.  His mood had suddenly changed once their paperwork was handed in, and she noticed a small smirk on his lips.  “Are we getting paid for the Black Angel?”
“You won’t get paid for anything,” he said, and he set a hand on the center of her back.  Aeryn gave her a slight push forward, and Zia was standing in front of a man.  He didn’t say anything, but he glanced up and gave a small nod.
“Just one more minute,” he told her, and Aeryn was next to her.  She was getting more nervous, but in a good way.  What was this surprise?
To answer her question, the man behind the glass slid a small black leather square towards her.  Zia looked to her mentor while her hand reached out for the square, and as she touched down on it she realized what it was; a badge.
She shrieked as she opened it, unable to hide her excitement.  She didn’t care that all eyes in Ventori Ark were now on her, or that Aeryn even covered his ears from her scream.  Zia was officially a Ventori now, even if she had no formal education.  In her hands was a Ventori badge, bearing the photograph of her from the files in the archives, and a single green line.  The green line meant her rank as an initiate with the Ventori clans, and was what she had worked so hard for all her life.
“I have a badge!” Zia shouted, shoving the small piece of leather into her mentors face.  “It’s there, it’s right there!”
Aeryn laughed.  “Yes, you have a badge, now shut up about it.”  He pushed her hands down, and began to walk out of the building.  As Zia followed she couldn’t stop staring at her own picture, and her little green line.
“I’m Ventori,” she said more to herself than anyone as the doors pushed open.  But when she was told to put the badge away, guilt began to set in.  What would her mother think?  Zia shook her head, and decided that saving lives and stopping things like the Black Angel were more important than her mother’s feelings about the Ventori.  But still, Zia felt that familiar pang in her stomach.  She repeated, “I’m Ventori.”
“You’re an initiate,” Aeryn corrected, “take note of the green line.”
“Hayden is going to be so jealous,” Zia changed the subject, but tried to remember that even though she had caught the Angel, he wasn’t the one in control.  Achaicious was the one behind it all, for some reason.  Anger replaced her guilt, and Zia questioned, “Are we going to go back to find Achaicious?”
“Not yet,” he told her as they crossed the street.  “We still need to do a little more digging; find out more.  Meet me here tomorrow at two.”
“Where are we going?” Aeryn jumped onto his steed, and Zia looked up at him in the dark, his face framed by the moon. 
“You’ll find out tomorrow,” he flicked the reigns and Cindy took off, “at two!”
“Hey!” Zia called out to him, but he was already long gone.  Even though she wasn’t in her full form the black horse blended into the shadows easily.
Zia looked around her, taking in the empty streets of Northern New Havilan; she wondered if they would ever be full in the dark.  Humans never went out at night, not really.  It was like their instincts went into overdrive when the moon came out, and they knew it wasn’t safe.  But she shrugged in the darkness, thinking that it was safe in New Havilan, as long as you stayed up north, and there were Ventori out.  Ventori like her.
Before she left, she thought she heard a howl in the distance, coming from the north.  She told herself that her mind was playing tricks on her, and turned.  Her boots padded across the sidewalk, and she was headed home, wondering what adventure awaited her tomorrow.

It wasn’t cold at all at night, not like it used to be.  The man ran along the pathway just past his house, papers in hand as he tried to escape his pursuer.  But the thing was fast, faster than should be possible for its kind.  The man kept going though, knowing that he had to tell someone what he had found.
He was a cold case worker, and he specialized in the cases that looked unsolvable.  He was a Ventori, of the proud Neith clan, and he had found something important; something that would change the way New Havilan worked.  At least…he hoped it would.
The Neith dashed through more trees, tried to zigzag around obstacles to lose his attacker, but it was no use.  That thing had the advantage in the woods, and they both knew it.  As he came to the edge of a cliff, he decided that it was time to fight despite his minimal experience.  He was Ventori, and he would not go down easily.  Not now, not with what he held.
He spun around and slid a small dagger from his sleeve, throwing it towards the trees.  A howl erupted in the darkness, and the figure stepped out; a werewolf.  It was massive, compared to all the wolves he had seen, with limbs that stretched out too far, and eyes that glowed hot and yellow under the moon.  It appeared as a man with hair all over his body, his arms and legs twice as long, and he had a snout that bared sharp fangs.  The dagger stuck out from its cheek, and it merely shook its head to get rid of it, blood splaying over the dirt below.  The Ventori flicked his eyes up, as if trying to will the clouds to cover the source of the wolf’s powers but it was a clear night; beautiful even.
The beast snarled, and the Neith reached into his jacket for another weapon; this one would do much better.  It was a jagged piece of cobalt, sharpened into the deadliest of weapons; he only wished he could have it enchanted, to give it that extra kick.
“Come on, then,” he said to the beast.  The wolf’s eyes slid to observe the cliff, and the Neith could swear it knew of his plan.  It moved fast, then, faster than he had ever seen a werewolf move.  It dodged back and forth, almost disappearing into the air when suddenly it was upon him, foul breath hot on his neck.  It’s teeth sank in, almost threatening to tear his head right from his body.
The Neith crumbled to the ground, dead; his files fluttering next to his body.  The wolf howled, and returned to human form.  He knelt down and scooped up the files, only taking a moment to read the name on them, make sure they were the right ones.  They were.  He remembered the name well; Donataen Noble.  And he remembered the kill.
He spat on the Ventori, and was about to walk away when he noticed the dagger that still lay in the man’s warm hand.  It was a rare thing to see in New Havilan, and the wolf bent over to pick it up.  But as his hand touched down on the blue, it seared him.  Pure cobalt?  A glance over his shoulder and he knew he was going to be late, his master wouldn’t like that.  He quickly pushed the body, and the dagger, over the cliff.
As for the blue dust that lay around the area, well, that would be taken care of by the wind.  Before he left, he looked up at his mistress once more, and howled.  For a moment he felt lonely when no one howled back at him, and the wolf headed home.



Chapter 14:
Her mother was awake rather early the next day, and so was her father.  When Zia came crashing down the stairs, she found them both sitting at the kitchen table, each with a steaming cup of tea in their hands.
“Morning,” Zia said slowly, heading to the coffee maker.  It was a little suspicious to find them both there at such a time, and she could feel something prick at the back of her head; her Medean blood seeping to her surface.
“Good morning,” her mother said, voice a little hoarse.  Her father didn’t really say anything, but gestured for her to sit down.  She did.
“Dare I ask what this is about?” she tried to joke, and her mother actually smiled.  Cash, on the other hand, seemed worried.
“We’re just a little concerned about your new boyfriend,” Win admitted, taking a sip of her tea.  “How exactly did you meet him?”
“Oh, uh…” Zia started, noting that her father’s eyes were boring in to her, his Medean blood coming through.  But she had the same blood, and deflected, “What’s wrong with him?  I thought you liked that you met him.”
“Yes,” Win nodded, “but he just seems so much older.  And so very…”
“Forward,” Cash finished for his wife, lips tight.  She nodded in agreement, just as the coffee began to pour into the pot on the counter.  Zia swallowed, quietly and tried to think of a lie.  Even then, she had her new badge and rank safely in her back pocket.  She couldn’t admit Aeryn was actually her mentor.
“That’s why I like him,” she stood in one swift motion and moved towards the coffee pot, “he’s mature.  Not like high school boys.”
“But you’re a high school girl,” Cash said.
“I do believe I graduated,” Zia corrected, signing motions with her hands, “there was a big ceremony, I walked across the stage, shook the principals hand.  Mom was there, and so were you.  Remember?  Or is age getting the best of you?”
Cash pursed his lips, and set a hand on his briefcase sitting next to him.  He said, “I need to leave for work, but we still have to discuss this.”
Zia rolled her eyes, wishing they would just give up.  They had never really cared about anyone else she had dated, but maybe that was because they were always the same age.  She didn’t even know how old Aeryn was, actually, and now it was starting to bother her.  There was no way he could be over twenty-six, right?
“Goodbye, dad,” Zia said, and Cash gave his daughter and wife a kiss on the cheek.  The door clicked shut, and Win was left to carry on the conversation.
Zia poured herself a cup of coffee and sat next to her mother in Cash’s chair.  Win said, “I didn’t want to ask while your father was around, but are you being safe?”
“Huh?” Zia perked up, her mind instantly going to the hit she had taken from the Black Angel not even a day ago.  She had been thrown clear across a room, and no bruises had shown up.  But as she looked into her mother’s eyes, she realized what she had really meant.  “Oh, safe?  We aren’t uh…we aren’t doing anything like that.”
Win smiled, weak and gentle.  Zia could feel herself blushing, imagining herself tangled in bed with Aeryn, passion getting the better of her.  But she doubted he would ever look at her like that, yet the thought still made her heart beat a little faster.
“You really like him,” Win said, not believing her daughter, “just be aware of the consequences. Is he from a clan?”
“Yes,” Zia spoke too quickly, unable to stop remembering her kiss with him in the hallway, “he’s from the Shakti clan.”
“That’s good.”  Win took a drink, and so did Zia.  Her mother looked at her, and questioned, “Whatever happened to Hayden?”
“Hayden?” Zia repeated.  “I don’t know.  We don’t really talk much.”
“No, I mean,” Win tried to find the right words, “I always thought you liked him.  You were always talking about him.”
“Wha—no way!  That’s Hayden Rider,” Zia protested, “he’s…he’s Hayden Rider!”
“Well whenever you mentioned him you got so passionate, excited” Win shrugged, “I just thought—it reminded me of how I would talk about your father when we were young.”
“No, no way.  No way would I like Hayden.  He was competition, mom, not…bleh.”  Zia couldn’t even form proper sentences when the image of her and Aeryn was replaced with her and Hayden.  Her heart jumped harder against her ribcage.
“Alright, alright,” Win tried to calm her daughter down, and they continued to chat in the kitchen.  Zia attempted to steer the conversation away from Aeryn and Ventori and Hayden, but her mother was persistent.  Two o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

Standing out front of her house was making him nervous for some reason.  He couldn’t understand it, or the way his throat felt tight thinking of how she had been hurt.  Well, she was Ventori, so she wasn’t really hurt when the Angel had struck her, but he still felt bad about it.  Now, Mal was standing on her front porch, cloaked with a spell, and trying to find the courage to knock on her door.  He only wanted to make sure she was okay, but even that seemed difficult.  Just as he knocked on the door, he brushed his hair forward so that it covered more of his eyes; he had never felt this nervous before.
The door opened, and he let down his shield so that Zia could see him.  Her eyes widened, and she yanked on the collar of his shirt, pulling him inside.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered harshly.  She asked that a lot.  Was it only him she questioned so much?
He glanced around the hallway, and heard a shuffling from the other room.  He said, “I wanted to see how you were feeling, after last night.”  As she stared up at him, he realized he hadn’t changed his eyes for her, and shifted them.  She flinched back, and his lips tightened into a line.  “Sorry.”
“Whatever,” Zia ran two hands through her hair, and looked around the corner.  “Mom, me and a uh…friend are just going to go into my room.”
“Okay, Kehzia,” said a female voice, “I need to go next door to speak with the neighbourhood guard.  If I don’t see you when I get back, have a good day!”  Mal watched as Zia rushed out of sight, and heard more movement.  A screen door opened and shut, and the Ventori girl was back in his sights.  She began ushering him up the nearby staircase, and didn’t stop pushing him, or looking over her shoulder until she slammed a door shut.
“Why are you here?” Zia questioned him again.
“You had been hurt,” Mal stammered, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Zia flinched again, but he wasn’t sure why.  He had made sure his eyes looked human, and he hadn’t cast any spells; if anything, she shouldn’t flinch.  Maybe she really did hate him.  That thought made him look to his feet, ashamed.  He apologized to her, a lump formed in his throat as the words came across his tongue.
“I’m fine,” Zia said.  “It’s not like it was your fault.”
“But it was.”

Zia couldn’t comprehend why Mal had decided to pay her a surprise visit, but when he said he felt her getting hurt was his fault, she was at a loss for words.  He had been banished, which was a lot worse than getting tackled.  To be banished, even for a short time, was seen as the cruelest of acts, and was only served as punishment for the worst of STRAYs.  And yet, here he was, saying sorry for not helping her.
“I promised to help you,” Mal went on, his violet eyes fixated on his shoes, “and I failed.”
“Well,” Zia rubbed the back of her neck, “you did sort of pin him to a wall, which was useful.”  She wasn’t about to admit that he had basically saved the day; it was her first STRAY, and how could she let someone know a Specter had helped her?  Especially a Caster.
But her words seemed to make Mal feel better, and when he looked up at her she felt her heart do a little skip.  He smiled, and he looked so genuinely happy to hear that he had helped.
“You are not hurt though?” he asked, his eyes expressing more emotion than she could even comprehend.
“No,” Zia shrugged, “Medean blood keeps me strong.  Hey…”
Mal stepped forward eagerly, and for once she didn’t step back.  “Yes?”
“Why would Achaicious want to kill a Ventori?”
“Do you not believe it was simply because they were Ventori?” Mal questioned, brushing his hair forward more with the tips of his fingers.  It bothered Zia not being able to clearly see his eyes, and she had to stop herself from shoving his hair back.  How had that hairstyle ever gotten popular?
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she admitted.
Mal shifted his eyes away from hers, but quickly met them again.  He asked, “Do you believe that we could work together, then?  That Ventori and Specters could live together?”
Zia paused, and didn’t know how to answer.  Everyone seemed to want this, especially Aeryn.  But she opened her mouth, with the thought of how a Specter had murdered her brother, and declared, “No.”
“I will convince you,” Mal said, not even stopping to think.  “We can work together, last night was evidence enough.”  He held his hand out to her, and she let it hang in the space between them.
She furrowed her brow.  “What?”
“Your hand,” Mal said, looking down at her side.  Stupidly, she lifted it, thinking something was there and the Specter quickly grabbed it.  Zia immediately went for her cobalt chain, but stopped when Mal simply lifted her hand to his forehead, pressing her fingers against his skin, eyes shut.  He felt hot, and his hair tickled her knuckles.  She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt her face redden a bit, the moment suddenly becoming an intimate goodbye.  Mal lowered her hand, but kept it in his and opened his eyes to meet hers.   He whispered, “I will show you.”
And in a flash of blue dust, he vanished.
Zia was left standing in her room, staring at the empty air that Mal had just been standing in.  Her cheeks had turned a light pink, and her hand was still hanging in the space where Mal held it.  Her fingers felt hot, as did her chest.  That was a very personal goodbye, which most Specters only gave to those they loved most; family, really close friends…lovers.  Another image of a bed came to her mind, with blond hair and lean limbs.  As soon as she came to her senses, she ran for the vacuum in the hallway closet, and made sure to rid her room of any trace of the blue dust; of Mal.
He was still determined to prove to her that not all Specters were bad, and she could feel some tiny part of her starting to believe him.  But it was only because he was persistent, and had technically helped her; it was sort of her fault he had gotten banished, too.
Zia checked the time, and saw there was too much between now and when she had to meet with Aeryn.  She had tried calling Iscah, but there was no answer, so she headed out to the library.  If anything, she needed something to keep her mind off of Malachi Fel.

When Zia arrived at the library the first thing she noticed was that Trenton wasn’t there.  All the other kids were listening to a story in the back corner of the room, but the Neith that had so eagerly wanted to learn of his heritage was nowhere to be found.  Zia turned to Mrs. Mayfield behind the desk and asked where he was.
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Mrs. Mayfield replied.  Zia shook her head, and the librarian said, “His father passed away last night; I don’t think we’ll be seeing Trenton back for a time.”
“Passed away?” Zia repeated, completely dumbfounded by the idea.  “What happened?  Was he sick?”
The librarian checked where all the children were before leaning over the desk.  She whispered, “I hear he committed suicide, up on the northern cliff.  The poor boy; I’ll never understand how parents can do that.”
An alarm went off inside Zia’s head, and she knew something was off.  Another clan member committing suicide?  She asked, “Did he jump?”
Mrs. Mayfield nodded, “Just last night.  Rumours say that his body was too mangled to even properly identify him; they had to use dental records…for what they had left anyway.”
Zia pursed her lips, and ran out of the library without an explanation for the woman.  She hoisted her bag higher on her back, and hopped onto her bike, already moving towards the furthest part of North Havilan.

The girl abandoned her bicycle near the trees, making sure to obscure it within the bushes.  She wasn’t even aware she was being watched, and the woman followed her with a laugh.  This girl was trying to be Ventori?  Please.
Though she had taken on a Black Angel, not even stopping to think she might get hurt.  This Kehzia, the woman pondered, maybe there was more than meets the eye.  But as the woman watched the young Ventori fall to the ground, and swear, she rethought her statement.
She tracked Kehzia through the woods, being sure to stay in the other realm, her realm.  Her black hair and sky coloured eyes could see everything from there, and she wanted to curse how easily she had been caught off guard by that damned Angel.  Achaicious had given him a banishment charm, and she had been thrown forcefully into her own realm at the hospital, along with that boy.  Thankfully, he had been too busy thinking of Kehzia to even notice her there.
Coming back to the present, the woman watched as Kehzia came upon the scene of the latest death; a member of the Neith clan, and a man that had found out too much.  Nobody else was there, and the woman studied Kehzia from afar, watching as she wandered around the area in search of clues.  But she sighed and peered over the cliff, finding nothing.
Just when the woman thought the girl had given up, she knelt down by a tree, and pressed her finger into the dirt.  Curious, the woman approached her, still well hidden in her own realm, and watched as the Ventori smiled.
On her finger was dirt, but also small specs of blue dust; Caster dust.  She knew Kehzia was thinking that the person that killed this man also killed that other woman, the one called Cindel, but she was only half right.  The woman shifted her eyes to the cliff, and she could see the fading image of a werewolf biting into the Neith, and then pushing him over the edge.  The leftover dust was just from a spell cast on the wolf, she noted, and watched as the image howled upwards.  But something else caught her eye; a cobalt dagger.
That could come in handy, the woman thought to herself.  She left Kehzia’s side, and reached her thoughts towards the rocks below, searching for the dagger that had been tossed aside so easily.  She found it quickly, and lifted it without even moving.  But even she was capable of mistakes, and as the weapon cut through her veil, she caught it, and it seared her hand.
“Goddess,” she cursed and turned to see Kehzia face her.
“Hey!” the Ventori screamed, and started towards her.  But the woman was faster than that, and dropped the dagger as she clutched at her hand.  She vanished back into her realm, and left the dagger for the girl, along with some pale grey ashes.



Chapter 15:
Zia was earlier than she had expected when she went to meet with Aeryn in front of Ventori Ark.  The sun’s reflection was beating down on her from the tall glass building.  She could see a few Ventori, her comrades, already taking in STRAYs, and she approved.  Too bad it made her stomach flip-flop inside of her thinking of what had happened that morning.
She had gone to the cliff where Trenton’s father had supposedly committed suicide, just like Cindel; but there was blue dust there, just a bit of residue left in the dirt that linked to Achaicious.  Zia’s blood began to pump harder through her system as she imagined him behind these deaths, and she wanted to make sure that she was the one to get him.  Catching such a high ranking Caster…that would surely improve her rank two-fold with the Ark!  But Achaicious hadn’t been the one watching her there, and he hadn’t been the one to leave the cobalt dagger behind. Now that dagger was carefully hidden in Zia’s jacket pocket, right next to her silver one.
Who had that woman been?  It had happened so quickly, the woman hissing as the dagger burned her, and then disappearing into a haze of grey dust.  That was what worried Zia the most; she had never seen grey ashes from a Caster before, and she had never heard of it.  Her lips pressed together into a tight line; she didn’t like encountering something she knew nothing about.
Zia couldn’t help but remember how the woman had looked a bit like Achaicious, from what she remembered in the photograph.  Raven hair, sharp cheekbones, and an elegant aura.  Zia was certain that that woman had been the same one she saw in the library, just after her visit with Trenton.  Maybe there was a connection there?
“You know your face will freeze like that if you do it for too long,” a male voice said, and Zia shifted her eyes to the left expecting to find Aeryn, smirk and all.  But instead she found Hayden Rider; could this day get any more perfect?  She moved her eyes forward again, and kept her hands in her coat pockets; it felt strange to have the weight of two daggers.
“Rider,” she greeted him gruffly, still too deep in thought.  When he didn’t go away she questioned, “What?”
“I heard about last night at the hospital,” Hayden shrugged and stepped closer to her on the sidewalk, “you caught a Black Angel?”
Zia lit up, and she knew he saw that.  But she couldn’t resist pulling out her badge, and waving it over him.  She said, “I got a rank now!”
“Congratulations,” Hayden sounded too sincere, and he was giving her a strange, small smile.
She furrowed her brow.  “What?  No yelling?  No name calling?  Who are you?”  When he glanced at her badge she put it back in her pocket, finally facing him.  He only smiled wider.
“You’re the one that yells,” he admitted with a laugh.
“I’m just…passionate,” Zia crossed her arms.  She was competitive, she knew that, but so was Hayden.  So why did he just seem to roll over and accept the fact she was officially Ventori before he was?  “What are you doing here?”
“Cal’s having a party tonight,” Hayden said, nodding his head over Zia’s shoulder, “I’m going over to help set up.”
Zia chuckled.  “What, he doesn’t want his dozen servants doing it?”
“Guess not,” Hayden paused, and seemed to look her over.  “Did you maybe…want to go with me?  You could bring Iscah.”
“Hmm,” Zia thought of Iscah at a party, or specifically at a party that Cal was throwing.  He wasn’t known for being low key, but it could be fun.  “Sure.  When and where?”
“I can pick you guys up at your place around nine,” Hayden winked at her, something he did often, and started walking away.  “I dare you to wear girl’s shoes!”
“I would if I owned any!” Zia called back with a laugh, and then looked down at her army boots.  She did have a pair that had heels, but it was easier to do damage, and to run, without them.  
Zia took her phone from her pocket and sent a text to Iscah, asking about the party.  She agreed instantly, and they made arrangements for her to go over to Zia’s house at five o’clock.  She and Aeryn should be done by then, she hoped.

Aeryn had watched Zia and Hayden interact, and some part of him wanted to interrupt it.  He was starting to get a sense of just how popular Zia must have been in high school, at least with boys.  It was no wonder Donataen had been so protective of her; she was oblivious to the way men saw her.  Or at least she seemed oblivious to the way Hayden Rider was watching her.
After they parted ways, he had taken one last look at her from behind.  Nothing too creepy, but enough to put his true thoughts and feelings on display.  Zia might have felt she was in competition with that kid, but he clearly felt differently.  Aeryn wondered if he was going to try anything at the party tonight, but he had also mention Zia’s friend, Iscah.  He shook off his protective feelings, knowing he was just channeling some part of Donataen, and walked over to meet with his student.

Zia recognized Aeryn’s footsteps as he approached, and she looked up from her messages with Iscah to see him.  His grey eyes were captivating under the sun, and all the strange thoughts she had earlier during the conversation with her mother were coming back to her.  She could easily picture staring into those eyes in a dimly lit room, with only the two of them making up the entire world.
“Where’s Cindy?” Zia asked, trying to remind herself that Aeryn could not read her mind.  But the way he was looking at her made her feel as if he could.  He was such an experienced Ventori, best in the world, he was probably used to women looking at him; there was no way a teenager like Zia could compare.
“We just need to walk,” Aeryn said, not even greeting her.  He started moving away, and Zia followed, trying to match his steps.
“So where are we going?” Zia’s mind was still elsewhere, and she wasn’t sure if she should tell Aeryn about what had happened.  If anything, she would ask about the ashes.
“We’re going to check out Cindel’s condo,” he explained, taking a sudden left and crossing the street, “it’s not too far from here, and most of her files would be on her home computer.”
“How do you know that?” she felt like she had to jog to keep up with her mentor, and her question finally slowed him down.  He shifted his shoulders, but she couldn’t tell if it was shrug or not; the movement was too stiff.
“It’s what I do,” Aeryn declared.
There was a pause before Zia found the courage to ask, “Do you know what kind of Specter would leave grey ashes behind?”
That brought Aeryn to a halt.  He spun around to face her, and he seemed worried more than anything.  His voice was low when he asked, “Where did you see ashes?”
Zia brushed her hair back, trying to let it move out of the way with the wind.  In her jacket, her new dagger touched the old, and clinked, but Aeryn didn’t seem to notice.  She decided a lie would work to her advantage, and said, “Nowhere, but Hayden asked me if I knew.  I’ve never heard of grey dust from a Caster before.  They only have blue, green, pink, yellow, and beige.  So is ash even a thing?”
Zia didn’t feel guilty over this lie, because it was obvious Aeryn knew the answer.  He turned and started walking again, and said, “If you ever see grey ashes, run.”
“Why?” Zia no longer had to jog to keep up with him; something about the ashes had made him slow down.
“Because there’s only one thing in the entire world that can leave behind grey ashes, and no Ventori alone can take it down.”
Zia’s heart sped up, the image of the woman in the library and at the cliff coming to her.  Again, she told herself Aeryn couldn’t read her mind.  He went on, “It’s a special sort of Caster, that was banished back in their homeland.”
“In Castaliana?”
“Yes,” Aeryn and Zia turned a corner, and they were careful to not let any humans hear their conversation.  Not that any human would know much of Castaliana.  “Caster’s are only ever banished permanently for the worst of crimes, but they aren’t always stuck there.”
“It’s another realm,” Zia said, “they can’t get back here unless it’s a temp spell…can they?”
“They’re called Realm Walkers,” Aeryn admitted, and Zia felt her eyebrows rise.  “They’re the strongest of Casters, and they’re capable of going between the banished lands, and here.  They leave behind a grey dust if they’re not careful.  So if you see it, run.”
Zia stopped on the concrete, and wondered what a Realm Walker would have to do with Trenton’s father, or even herself.  But somehow, she knew it would come back to Cindel.  Zia decided to make sure to look for anything at the dead woman’s condo that would point to Casters.

Cindel’s building was small compared to everything else in New Havilan, but it was nice.  The hallways were wide, with decorative tables and plants, and painted a pearly white.  As Zia and Aeryn walked down to condo 458, a middle-aged man nodded at them.  Aeryn nodded back, and Zia just trailed behind until they reached their destination.
Zia glanced over her shoulder just as the man entered the elevator, and when she turned back she found the door to Cindel’s condo already open with Aeryn inside.  She quickly stepped in, and shut the door behind her.
“So what are we looking for?” Zia asked, trying to act like she didn’t have her own agenda.  It was hard to remember that Aeryn was her mentor, that he was teaching her how to survive as a Ventori when she did so many things on her own.  She wanted to include him, she really did, but some things, she felt, he didn’t need to know.  After all, he was the one who reported to Ms. Madsen.
“Anything that might lead us to why she was killed,” Aeryn called from another room, “look for case files, evidence of unfaithful lovers, blah, blah, blah.”
“Gotcha,” Zia said back.
Cindel’s condo was big, and the front door opened right into the living room.  It had large, black chairs sitting in front of glass windows that made up the entire far wall from where she stood, and to her left was a small kitchen.  By the way the pans were set up, and the thin line of dust that sat on the appliances, Zia could tell Cindel didn’t cook.  Ever.
Zia stepped down the small gap between the entrance and the living room, and saw that Aeryn was investigating one of the two rooms that sat on the left, just past the kitchen.  So she decided to turn right, for two more rooms, since there was nothing that she could see near the couches.  Zia flicked a light on in one room, and found it was the bathroom; spotless, just like the kitchen.  She turned and moved on, deciding to come back to it later.
The next place was Cindel’s bedroom, relatively clean, but clearly lived in.  The bed was unmade, and a few shirts sat on top of it, as if she had been deciding what to wear for the day.  A bookshelf sat on Zia’s right, and was covered in novels of all languages; some she recognized, others she didn’t.  The far wall was one giant window, revealing the spectacular view of the city.  She took little time to appreciate the way the Arks curved upwards, or how the sun bounced from the sparkling rooftops.  Her eyes scanned the room, and her left sat a dresser, seemingly riffled through.  Zia stepped over, and inspected it, but she never expected to see what she did.
Sitting just on top of the dresser, next to a jewelry box and a stack of papers was a framed photograph.  And staring back at her was Cindel, Aeryn, and another familiar face.  Donataen.
Zia turned her head for only a second to check on where her mentor was, but he was still across the condo; and when she looked back at the photograph, she expected it to be different, like she hadn’t just seen her mentor standing smiling with her brother and the victim.  But they were all still there, standing in front of the Academy of Light, they looked no older than she was now.
Before she could stop herself, she reached out and lightly touched the frame.  In seconds she was already taking the photograph out and looking closer, turning it over to read the back.  In big, swirly handwriting it said, “Me, Aeryn, and Don on graduation day!  Super sunny, and Don and I finally kissed!”  A heart followed the sentence.
Aeryn’s footsteps shuffled outside of the bedroom and Zia folded up the photo and stuck it into her jacket.  When her mentor stepped inside she could only hope she didn’t look as horrified as she felt.  Her brother had dated Cindel?  And Aeryn knew them both?
“Find anything?” Aeryn asked, and Zia looked over at him.  He looked so calculating, standing in the doorway, and she wondered what else she didn’t know about him, or what he had hidden from her.  She shook her head and he noticed the open drawers of the dresser, “Going through girls’ underwear drawers?”
“No,” Zia replied instantly, her tone giving her away, “it was like that when I came in.  I think someone else was here.”
“Think they found what they wanted?” Aeryn surveyed the room, and Zia did the same.
“Yes,” she admitted, “otherwise the room would be completely trashed, right?”
“Good job,” Aeryn smiled, and Zia became very aware of her movements.  “I found her computer, I’m just trying to figure out her login.”
He motioned for her to head out the door, but Zia shook her head.  “I’ll be a second.  I want to see if I can find out anything about her here.”
Aeryn walked away with a shrug.  Immediately Zia began to riffle through Cindel’s dresser trying to find something, anything, to tell her more; but there was nothing hidden within her clothes.  Zia moved on to the jewelry box.  As she pulled out the levels, she noticed the corner of a paper sitting underneath the last set.  Carefully, she lifted the bottom out, the part that shouldn’t even be able to move, and found a thin stack of letters.
Another glance at the doorway, and Zia pulled the papers out; she easily recognized her brother’s handwriting easily.  She licked her lips, unsure of what to do, but she was already opening the first letter and began to read.
It was a love letter from Donataen to Cindel.  There were only three letters, two of which arranged secret meeting spots somewhere in town, and the third was simply a poem.  Zia couldn’t help but whisper it to herself, imagining her brother next to her, “Love follow me, and let it be sweet.  If I had known this once before, I’d of hurried to meet, this borrowed time.  Love follow me, and let it be sweet.”
It was written in his small, scratchy handwriting, and was signed by “your loving Donataen”.  Zia stepped back and sat down on Cindel’s bed.  She had never having expected to learn this.  The first letter was dated the day he graduated from the Academy of Light, the second was a few months later, and the one that remained open in her hand…it was dated just before he died.  Zia realized that Cindel must have really loved her brother to have kept the letters for so long.
Regaining her senses and holding back tears, Zia refolded the letters and stuck them in with the photograph.  She had never known her brother had been dating someone, but that would have to wait.  She knew Aeryn would never tell her about his connection with Cindel, or her brother, and she was going to have to figure it out on her own.  Somehow, her to-do list was getting longer and longer, and she was running out of helpful resources.  But she was Ventori.  She would get it done.
Zia moved into the living room to find Aeryn sitting at a laptop, a few files on the couch next to him.  As she approached, he handed them to her, his eyes never leaving the screen.  She questioned, “What are these?”
“Something Cindel seemed to be working on,” he said as Zia began to flip through the pages.  It was accounting papers, with large sums of money being transferred to different accounts.  Zia noticed that some were highlighted, with corresponding dates; one of the highlighted dates was the day after her brother’s death.  Aeryn continued, “It seems that some money was transferred from Achaicious’ account to his assistant’s, with another off-shore account sending money into Achaicious’.”
“So he was paying his assistant?” Zia questioned, still distracted by the news of her brother.
“Four of the dates are highlighted,” Aeryn went on, “each after a Ventori was killed.  It’s in the second file.”
Zia sat next to her mentor, getting that sinking feeling in her stomach.  She opened the other file, there were only abbreviations, and then clan names.  AC – Neith, LU – Jasper, DN – Medea, DR – Jasper.  
Aeryn was studying her, she could feel his eyes on her.  Was he trying to judge what, if anything, she had figured out?  Was this another test?  Zia kept herself composed, and declared, “So he was being paid to kill Ventori?”
“Seems that way,” Aeryn said, shifting his eyes back towards the computer.
“Achaicious paid his assistant to kill Ventori?” Zia repeated, clearer this time.  But what she really wanted to say was that he paid his assistant to kill her brother.  Zia’s eyes went over the words again, and she felt a fire growing inside of her.  Her brother’s unsolved murder, that was so obviously a murder, had been declared an honourable Ventori death.  He had been Tracking something, and she was told whatever it was had killed him; there was nobody caught for it.  She remembered how easily the Light Guard had brushed it off.  She could still see the blue dust that had been on Donataen’s shoes when she had found him.  Still hear the movement that had been nearby.
“He did,” Aeryn sounded so sure of it, but he had yet to get into Cindel’s computer.  It was then that Zia began to think he only became her mentor because of her name, and it had nothing to do with her abilities.

Aeryn could tell that Zia had already put two and two together.  The same man that killed Cindel had also killed her brother.  What he couldn’t tell was if she had linked him in as well.  She was good, he thought, but maybe not good enough.  Either way, he planned on bringing her to catch Achaicious, and finally bring justice to all the murdered Ventori; but first he needed to get into Cindel’s computer.  It was harder than he had thought it would be; she was always terrible at keeping her password a secret, but apparently she had learned a few tricks since he had last seen her.
As Aeryn was about to type in another guess at the password, the computer beeped, and the screen went black.
“Did you get it?” Zia asked, not letting go of the files.
“I didn’t do anything,” Aeryn leaned in closer to the screen and so did his student.  They stared and waited, when finally it lit up again.
The cursor blinked in the top left corner, a black mark on the otherwise pristine screen.  Words began to glide across it, and it gave them some important information.
“There’s another transfer,” Zia stated, “going from that off-shore account from across the waters.”
“It’s going into Achaicious’,” Aeryn concluded as he read the words, taking the files back from Zia. 
“No,” Zia argued, “it’s going into his assistants now, Delmont’s.  It’s for Trenton’s father!”
“What?” Aeryn furrowed his brow, for once being out of the loop.  He didn’t like being out of the loop.
“A boy at the library,” Zia explained, “his father supposedly committed suicide last night by the northern cliff.  I bet Delmont killed him, and this is the payment from Achaicious.”
“But why would he want these people dead?” Aeryn found himself asking.  That was something he already knew the answer to, but he needed to hear what Zia was thinking.
“Because he’s a Specter, and that’s what they do.”
“Maybe,” was all he gave her.

Zia felt…lost.  Although part of why she wanted to become Ventori was because she wanted to find the thing that had killed her brother, she had never expected it to be so soon.  And she had never expected that Donataen would be connected with Rinehart the Unbreakable.  As she sat on the couch with Aeryn, she thought of how she would prove that Achaicious was behind the deaths and found the only evidence was in Aeryn’s hands.
“We should tell the Board,” Zia said, not really wanting to do anything with the Board.  But before they could bring in the Caster, he had to be declared a STRAY, and the only way to do that was talk with the Board of Justice.
“We can’t, not yet,” Aeryn told her.  “We need more evidence.”  He checked his watch.  “And we have another meeting to get to, so we better leave.”
Aeryn began to gather up the computer and files.  Zia bit her lip, but went with him.  It was only a matter of time before she would be able to find out everything, whether Aeryn helped her or not.  She asked, “Where are we going now?”
“Woman’s shelter across from VA,” Aeryn said.  “They’ve got a little problem that nobody else wants.”
“Are Specters dying again?” Zia asked, thinking of how nobody cared to solve the deaths at the hospital.
“Not exactly.”



Chapter 16:
The shelter was an old red brick building that sat across from Ventori Ark and just between two other short towers.  It had a sign out front reading, “New Havilan Western Women’s Shelter”, in bright white writing against a black board.  Zia pouted, wanting to keep working on her brother’s case rather than do this.  She still had trouble thinking that; her brother’s case.
“You’re here!” a young woman called out to Aeryn as she burst through the front door of the shelter.  She immediately grabbed onto both of their hands and shook simultaneously, a large smile on her face. Her brunette hair was tied in a loose string and hung over her shoulder.  She couldn’t have been much older than Aeryn.  A small stab of jealousy stung at Zia, but she pushed it away, remembering that he had never told her he knew her brother.
“Well,” Aeryn said, taking his hand back, “it sounded like you needed help.”
“We really do,” the woman said and looked at Zia, “I’m Trinila, I’m one of the victims.”
“Victims?” Zia squinted at the woman.  She didn’t look hurt, in fact she looked excited.
“Yes, come inside,” Trinila ushered them into the building, and showed them to a table where three more women sat.  Two of them had babies on their laps, while the third was at least seven months pregnant.  The Ventori remained standing.
The shelter was small and overcrowded.  Extra beds had been set up in the living room areas and were separated by sheets hanging from the ceiling.  Women and children sat in various areas, while two volunteers attended to them; she had never known anyone in New Havilan that needed this kind of help.  And she never thought about helping anyone either, other than catching STRAYs; she never thought further ahead than that.
“You’re the ones hiring us, then?” Aeryn questioned the woman and they all nodded.  One began to rock her baby as it began to fuss.
“What’s the case?” Zia asked, getting tired of everything.  These women looked fine, and perfectly healthy.  None of them were wounded or showed any sign of even being upset.  Most of them just looked mad.
“We need you to find someone,” Trinila explained, “the man who got us all pregnant.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zia said before she could stop herself.  “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” Trinila pouted, “he slept with us and then left, leaving us with the children.  I only just found out I was pregnant!”
This wasn’t even about a STRAY Specter, why would Aeryn bring her to this case?  Actually, it wasn’t even a case!  Zia crossed her arms with a huff, “So you all have a one night stand with some jerk that leaves in the morning, and you call Ventori to find him?  Why not try the Human Guard?”  Not that they would care either.
Trinila’s eyes dimmed a little.  “You don’t understand.”
“Why don’t you explain it to her,” Aeryn suggested, “we’ll take the case.”
“But—“ Zia began but was cut off by Trinila.
“We didn’t want to go to bed with him,” she said, looking to the other women, “but we were compelled to.  He was very charming, and always so nice.  I wouldn’t say it was…rape, but…we didn’t have much of a choice.  It was like a spell, we can’t even remember how we had met him.”
“Spell?” Zia repeated.  She turned to her mentor, “So it was a Caster?”
“Maybe,” Aeryn shrugged.  “What would you do now?”
Zia faced the woman, suddenly feeling bad for trying to turn them away.  She asked, “What did he look like?”
Each woman gave a different description.  Trinila remembered him being tall, dark, and brooding, while another one said he was average height, with light hair.  None of them matched, and Zia furrowed her brow.  When Aeryn noticed that she wasn’t getting anywhere, he excused them and pulled her aside near the desk.
“Casters can do spells to hide their appearance,” Zia theorized, “but they can’t usually get humans pregnant, can they?”
“Don’t let the victims wording affect your judgment,” Aeryn said, “look at what you know.  You have four women that slept with a man, they each got pregnant and he vanished.  They say he’s the same man.”
“I guess it could be different people,” Zia tried to think, “and it could just be a coincidence.”
“It’s not.”
“So you know what it is?” Zia looked up at him, and he nodded.  If he knew, why not just tell her?  Right, another test.  She started to search her brain for an answer, and only came up with one, “Incubus?”
“Good job,” Aeryn winked and it sent a jolt of excitement through Zia’s body.  He turned and leaned backwards on the counter, resting his elbows there as he surveyed the room.  The women, the victims, watched the Ventori, but began to converse among themselves. “It’s been at least a year, and it needs to be someone that’s close by all the time.  An Incubus’ magic takes time to affect someone.”
“So a volunteer?” Zia eyed the two men serving women.  It was the perfect opportunity for an Incubus; he could get close to the women, sleep with them, and when they got pregnant nobody would consider it a Specter crime.  It had gotten past Zia after all, but thankfully not Aeryn.  It did make Zia wonder, though, how many cases were thrown away, how many victims were ignored because a Ventori didn’t want to do it?
“The one on the left has been here the longest,” Aeryn mused.
Zia wasn’t so sure, and replied, “Maybe it isn’t who’s been here the longest, but who’s been here the least?”
Without telling her mentor her plan, she marched over to the man on the right.  When she tapped on his shoulder, she didn’t get the feeling that he was a Specter the way she did from the others, but she thought she saw his nose shift positions.  It was so slight, she almost missed his facial structure changing as he turned around.
“It’s you,” Zia declared, hands on her hips and ready to reach for her dagger.  The man furrowed his brow, his hair changing to a lighter shade of brown.  Trinila came up behind.
“That isn’t him at all,” she said, and Zia waved her away.
“It’s an Incubus,” she explained, “they change their appearance to match their latest target.  He shifted his bone structure and hair colour to match what you would prefer.”
Trinila’s mouth made a tiny “o”, and the Incubus shoved his hand against Zia’s shoulder.  Not expecting an attack, she stumbled backwards into Trinila and the Specter leapt over the nearest bed.  He went for the door, knocking down a tray on his way there, but Aeryn caught him, hooking his elbow around its throat.  He went down easy, and Aeryn applied the reduc-chains; the thing was now locked into his current form.
Trinila helped straighten Zia, who was thoroughly embarrassed by being knocked down so easily.  She hurried over to Aeryn, leaving the pregnant women behind.
“We’ll take him over to the Ark,” Aeryn called to the women, who tried to advance on the man that had technically raped them, “I’ll be back later with the details of his trial.”
As he pushed the Incubus out the door, the women called out their thanks to them, to Aeryn.  Zia bowed her head in their direction, and followed her mentor.
“It was a little obvious,” she told the Specter under the afternoon light, “that it was you when you shifted your appearance right in front of me.”
“I thought it was my only way of tricking you,” he shrugged, clearly not too worried about being caught, “I had to match the boy in your head if I wanted you on my side.”
“I would never be on a Specter’s side,” Zia argued, her eyes sliding towards Aeryn.  They waited to cross the street, each keeping a hand on the Incubus.  He just laughed.
“Not that one,” he sang to her and leaned towards her to whisper in her ear, “but I would lie too, if I was a Ventori falling for that boy.”

“Knock it off,” Aeryn said, and he yanked on the Incubus to keep him away from Zia.  He hadn’t heard what it said to her, but he could tell she was spooked; more so than when she had found out about her brother.  He offered, “I can take him in alone, if you want.”
Zia agreed instantly, which made him worry even more.  “Yeah, that works.  I gotta go.”  She ran off down the street, taking small glances back at the Specter.
“What did you say to her?” Aeryn asked as they crossed the street.  The Incubus laughed again, and they moved into Ventori Ark.
“Nothing,” he lied, “I was just telling her that the mind gets no choice in what the heart wants.  Love cannot be hidden from my eyes.”
They both knew what he meant.  The only person that didn’t was Zia, but Aeryn had a feeling she would be finding out soon enough.
Aeryn gave him a shove forward, and said, “How poetic.”



Chapter 17:
Iscah was already at Zia’s house when she arrived, and was sitting on the front steps.  Her strawberry-blonde hair glowed in the sunlight, but even her kind smile didn’t stop the chills Zia had; that Incubus had really gotten to her.  But as she walked up to her best friend, her worries melted away, and Iscah held up her supply of nail polish and other beauty supplies.
“You could have waited inside,” Zia told her, and Iscah shrugged.
“I don’t mind,” she said, and Zia opened the door.  Win was sitting in the living room reading a book.
“Hey mom,” Zia said as she walked by, “Iscah and I are going to a party tonight so we’ll be getting ready!”
“Oh, is that the one Hayden was going to?” Win called out, and Zia could hear the smile on her lips.  She stopped abruptly on the stairs, and quickly walked backwards past Iscah to see her mom.
“Hayden?  How did you know?”
“He called this morning after you went out,” Win confessed, setting her book in her lap with her finger as a bookmark.  “He wanted to invite you to a party at…Cal’s I think he said?  I told him you were out.  Cal was that boy you dated at the academy, right?”
“Yeah, I ran into Hayden on the street,” Zia spoke slowly, wondering how Hayden knew her home number.  “What else did he say?”
“He was just hoping you would go,” Win kept a sly smile on her face, “I hope your boyfriend doesn’t mind him inviting you.”
“Boyfriend?” Iscah’s eyes widened, as did Zia’s.  She quickly started dragging her friend upstairs to explain, and she heard her mother chuckling down below.  As soon as Zia’s bedroom door was shut, Iscah question, “You got a boyfriend?  Why didn’t you tell me?  Is he cute?  No, he’s probably hot; you always date the hot ones, not the cute ones.”
She looked into her friends gentle eyes, and tilted her head.  She confessed, “It’s Aeryn.  He came over the other day and I had to think of a lie.”
“Oh,” Iscah nodded, and sat down on the bed.  “You couldn’t say he was your boss or something?”
Zia paled a little, and quickly moved on from her mistake.  “So hey, what’d you bring?”
Iscah grinned, knowing her friend well.  “I brought the usual supplies.  What time did you say Hayden was picking us up at?”
Zia began to paw through the nail polish, debating which colour to pick.  She could feel Iscah’s eyes on her, and wasn’t sure what to say.  Why was everyone suddenly so interested in her love life?  And why did Hayden always come up with it?  She said, “Nine.”
“We have a lot of time then,” Iscah picked out a pale pink polish for herself, that Zia noticed was already on her toes.  “How’s your new…ah, job going?”
Zia looked at her door, and then to Iscah.  Carefully she pulled her badge out of her pocket, and flashed it for her friend.  She put it away quickly, and began to look through the colours again.
“You have a badge now?” Iscah squealed.  Zia shushed her, and she quieted down, “Congratulations!  But I thought you needed the education to get it?”
“No,” Zia shook her head with a smile, “you just need to be part of a clan, and actually catch a STRAY.”
“So are you still going to try and get into college?” Iscah and Zia slid to the floor and began to set everything up for their beauty session.  Zia paused just as she was about to put on a streak of blue polish.
“I want to,” she confessed, “but…I don’t know.  If I can learn from Aeryn…maybe I don’t need to go to college?”
“Well you still have a couple months,” Iscah shrugged and started on her nails.  “So…do you think Cal wanted us to go to the party?”
Zia shifted her eyes to Iscah, and saw her cheeks turn a light pink.  Cal went to the Academy of Light, and he was part of the Jasper clan, plus he was also one of the boys that Zia had dated in high school.  She broke up with him after realizing that Iscah had fallen for him.
“Maybe,” Zia shrugged, knowing that Cal had never even noticed Iscah’s existence.  “I only talked to Hayden.”  And even Hayden’s invite sounded like it was meant for her.  She started painting her other hand, and left it at that.
“Okay,” Iscah didn’t say anything for a while.  But as her nails started to dry she blurted out, “I’m sorry, do you not want me to like him?”
“What?” Zia was surprised by the sudden outburst.
“I just…I know you really liked him in high school, and then you broke up with him because of me…but I just…I can stop liking him if you want!  He was your first kiss, and—“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Zia held up her wet nails, “it’s fine.  I broke up with him because I got bored of him, nothing else.”
It was a lie, and Zia couldn’t tell if Iscah knew.  She really had liked Cal, maybe even loved him, but it was just high school love; it hadn’t meant anything.  But it was also a mutual breakup, when Zia had suggested it, he instantly agreed.  It was the first time Zia realized that whatever you saw on the surface wasn’t always real; because she had thought Cal loved her back.
Zia blew on her nails, and Iscah asked, “Could you ask Hayden?  I know you’re close with him, and he’s close with Cal, so…”
“I am not close with Hayden!  Why does everyone think I like Hayden?”

Mal was waiting for the opportune moment to present himself to Zia, but with her friend there it was hard.  He didn’t want to scare the girl like he had at the protest, and he knew Zia wouldn’t be happy should he appear from the air.  He knelt in front of the Ventori, and smiled to himself; it was interesting seeing her act so normal.  But he didn’t like how they were talking of this Hayden person, and he wondered why Zia hated Specters so much when her closest friend was one.

Three hours later Zia and Iscah began to get changed.  Iscah headed into the bathroom to do her makeup while Zia tried to find something to wear from her closet.  Just as she reached her hand to pick out a skirt, there was a voice behind her.
“Hello,” Mal said as he appeared near her through a haze of blue.  Zia resisted a scream, and quickly grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and threw him into to closet.  She couldn’t help but notice that his nose looked much like the way the Incubus had changed his own.
“Stop appearing in my house,” Zia hissed at him, never taking her hands off of him.  “What do you want?”
Mal’s violet eyes were wide, and his mouth opened and closed but he never said a word.  Zia prompted, “Well?”
“I wanted to see you,” he confessed.
“Wha…why?” Zia finally let him go, and little too rough and he stumbled backwards into her clothes.  He was getting a bit of dust on them, and she grimaced.
“Ventori are being killed,” Mal stammered, “you could be a target.”
“So what, you’re here to protect me?”
“Yes,” Mal stepped forward, “I want you to be safe.”
Zia felt her face redden, and then footsteps coming towards her room.  She ordered, “Well protect me from further away, got it?”
Mal slowly nodded, and disappeared just as the door opened and Iscah walked in.  She didn’t pay any attention to the dust on the carpet, and they resumed their usual routine.
Zia had no idea where Mal had vanished.

Hayden knocked on the front door to Zia’s house, dressed in blue jeans and a red long sleeve button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a black vest.  He was nervous, and he felt a little ashamed by that; he was part of the Jasper and Shakti clan, and a girl made him nervous.  But she had always made him nervous, not that she noticed.
He already knew that Zia would be bringing her friend Iscah to the party, but as soon as they arrived he had already arranged for Cal to keep them apart.  Tonight was the night that Hayden had been waiting for, and the party was the perfect chance.  He had a plan, but unfortunately he forgot that plan when she opened the door.
“Hey,” Zia greeted, wearing a black miniskirt with knee high boots.  Her bright blue halter top was peeking out beneath her favourite blood red leather jacket, and Hayden could see the sheath of her dagger hiding there as well.  Zia called up the stairs, “Iscah!  Hurry up, Hayden’s here!”
“Hey,” Hayden wheezed.  He was finding it very difficult not to stare at her legs, or how perfectly her hair fell over her collarbone.  Did she know exactly what he liked?  Behind her Iscah jumped down the stairs, obviously excited.
“Hi Hayden,” she said and she stepped outside with Zia.  Trying to stay calm, he led them to his car and opened the door for them; Zia climbed into the front, and Iscah stayed in the back.  At least that went according to plan.

The first thing Zia noticed was that Hayden was wearing cologne; and nice cologne too that was far too pleasing to her.  His hair was combed back for a change, not hanging loosely in front of his face, and his clothes looked new.  Did he know exactly what to wear to make her question her feelings?
Iscah had already gone into a deep discussion earlier as to why it was obvious she and Hayden liked each other.  She had always liked psychology, and stated that he only bothered her so much because she was just so attracted to him.  And she seemed to think he felt the same.
In the car Zia was surrounded by his smell, mixed in with Iscah’s perfume.  She pulled on the edges of her skirt, and looked at Hayden, suddenly seeing him differently.  Had he always had such a strong jawline?  Maybe it was just because she was staring at his profile.  She asked, “So how big is this party?  Usual Cal style?”
“Yeah,” Hayden laughed, one hand out the open window while his other rested on the bottom of the steering wheel, “I had to set up four sets of speakers, and I’m pretty sure it took a truck to bring enough drinks.”
“That sounds like Cal,” Zia laughed.  In the backseat, Iscah laughed as well.  Zia twisted to face he and added, “Don’t worry.  You don’t have to drink anything.”
“There’ll be non-alcoholic stuff too,” Hayden flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror.  “He usually keeps the crowd well controlled.”
“Okay,” Iscah agreed, but it was obvious she was nervous.  Zia couldn’t tell if it was because there would be underage drinking, or because Cal would be there.  They were only a year short of the appropriate age anyway…so it was probably all Cal.
But the nerves were catching, and Zia tugged on the bottom of her skirt again.  Something was very wrong with her this week.



Chapter 18:
Zia could hear the music all the way down the block, though it didn’t matter much because Cal’s “block” was actually his front yard; his house was a mansion, and a long line of cars led up to the four level home.  She could easily remember coming over to study, and they would usually just end up in his pool.  Even as they drove up she remembered what it was like the first time she had arrived.
Hayden stopped the car, and they all climbed out of the vehicle.  He tossed the keys to a man in an orange vest, and the valet drove off.  As they approached the open front door, they passed by unfamiliar faces; that was another thing that usually happened at Cal’s parties, if you went in knowing nobody, you came out with at least ten new numbers in your phone.
“Hurry up,” Zia called out to Iscah, who had begun to lag behind.  She had been playing with the edges of her shirt, and looked around nervously at all the people.  Most of them, Zia could tell, were from the Academy, which really made Iscah stand out; she only went to public school.
Iscah caught up, and the three stepped into the mansion.  There were people everywhere, and Cal spotted them instantly.  He sauntered over, drink in hand, and greeted them.
“Hey,” Zia yelled over the music, “you remember Iscah?”
“Of course!” he shouted back, giving a nod to Hayden before turning to the girl.  “Glad you could make it!  Come on, it’s way quieter out back!”
In a flash he was holding Iscah’s hand, and dragging her through the crowd to the back door.  As Zia tried to follow she felt a hand cover her own, and looked over to see Hayden pulling her towards the staircase.  He said, “Over here, we need to talk!”
As they moved up the stairs, Zia thought she saw dust on the bannister, but got distracted by the scent of Hayden’s cologne.  They made it up through the throng of teens and twenty something’s and Hayden pulled her into a nearby room; Cal’s room.
She looked around as Hayden shut the door and found nobody was there; he never allowed anyone inside his room during parties.  But she had been there before, and she went right for his balcony to try and get a view of Iscah.  Something was strange, and Cal wasn’t one to look at humans easily.
The balcony doors opened smoothly, and gave Zia memories of when she had first been invited to Cal’s; of course he hadn’t been interested in showing her the house then.  And she had made sure to show him just what she was capable of when it came to doing things her way or not at all.  But all her boyfriends had to learn the hard way, so it seemed.
Hayden came up behind her, more hesitant than he normally would she thought, and placed his hands in clear view on the concrete bannister.  Zia did the same.
“They’re over there,” Hayden leaned his forearms forward now, and pointed overtop of the pool to Iscah and Cal.  Past the dancing crowd, and a few people jumping or throwing others into the pool Zia watched as Cal offered Iscah a pink drink, who accepted it.  Zia grimaced, knowing there was alcohol in that.
“I need to talk to her,” she announced and spun around to head downstairs.  But Hayden caught her wrist and spun her back to face him; it caught her off guard.
“Wait,” he said, “I wanna ask you something Noble.”
“Can it wait?” she tried to wriggle out of his grip but he held on firmly.  Not forceful, but it was enough to let her know he was serious.  “I need to tell Iscah that—“
She was cut off as Hayden’s lips connected with hers.  Her eyes shot wide, and she didn’t know what to do for a moment.  When she shoved him away she saw that his eyes were just as wide.  She yelled, “What in the Light are you doing?  You hate me!”
Hayden squinted at her, and stated, “It’s kind of the opposite, if you didn’t put that together.”
“But you’re always trying to beat me,” Zia stepped back, finally seeing what everyone else seemed to, “in the races, and at school, and with college.  Is this because I got my rank first?  That’s low!”
“What?  No!” Hayden tried to stop her, but Zia was already in motion as she hoisted herself onto the ledge.  Before she could swing her legs over he grabbed her around the waist, keeping her in place.  He confessed, “I love you!”
Zia flinched backwards.  She had never heard those words before from a boy.

Hayden’s plan went right into the wild lands.  In his head he had gone over it time and time again, how he would get Kehzia alone on the balcony and ask her on a date, a real date.  He knew that she had never been treated like a woman with any of her other boyfriends, and he wanted to be the first one to do just that; but when she had tried to walk away he panicked, and kissed her.  He relished the kiss, but when she firmly pushed him away he knew he had made a mistake.  And now she was trying to jump from the balcony to get away from him, and that hurt.  It hurt enough that he just yelled that he loved her.
Zia was staring at him now, as if she had gone into a catatonic state.  He was glad that she had stopped struggling to get away, and that she had yet to remove his hands from her waist, but she didn’t even seem to be all there.
“Kehzia?” Hayden asked, testing the waters.  Taking a risk, he snapped his fingers in front of her face and she finally blinked at him.
“Huh?” she said, still looking dumbfounded.
“I just…I said…” he couldn’t say the words again.
“Right, love,” Zia let out a frantic laugh, “Right, it’s a joke, right?”
Hayden shook his head, and refused to back out now.  “It’s not.  I want to be with you.”
“You’re seventeen, what do you know?” Zia had yet to slide down from the bannister, and Hayden placed a hand on the concrete.  She smelled so good, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of her.
“I’m eighteen, actually,” Hayden said, “and I think you like me, too.”
Another frantic laugh and he was beginning to think she had lost her mind.

Zia wasn’t handling the news well, she knew that.  But nobody had ever just confessed their love for her, and Hayden was the last person she thought would do it.  They had always tried so hard to one-up each other since childhood, how could he just say he loved her?  Zia was beginning to feel just like she had with Aeryn when he had kissed her; she had lost all her power.  And for some reason the fact that the Incubus had shifted his hair colour to Hayden’s bothered her.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” she declared, and shoved him away.  She was no longer going to jump from the balcony, and moved into Cal’s room when Hayden caught her wrist again.
“I’m sorry,” he started when Zia yanked from his hands.
“Just not right now!” she shouted and when Hayden tried to protest a hand was on his throat, holding him an inch above the carpet.
“She said not now,” Mal’s eerie eyes stared up at Hayden, his hand clutching at his throat.  Hayden grabbed onto Mal’s arm just above the elbow trying to free himself, but it was clear who was stronger.  The Caster tilted his head, too calm.
“Mal!” Zia yelled and she grabbed onto the arm that was strangling Hayden.  “What are you doing?”
Hayden’s face was turning red, his eyes rolling back in his head.  Zia ordered, “Put him down!”
Mal shifted his eyes in her direction, and they changed to a single ring of violet, as they met hers.  His fingers loosened, and Hayden fell to the floor while his hand went to his side.  He questioned, “Are you safe?”
“Safe?” Zia yelled.  “Have you lost your mind?  He wasn’t hurting me!”

Mal looked down as Zia rushed to this Hayden’s side.  He sat on the floor, sputtering for air and probably trying to figure out what had just happened.  Mal’s hand clenched into a fist when he saw how much Zia cared for this boy, and his knuckles were still a little white from when the boy had kissed her.
“I apologize,” Mal said quietly, “I had thought his actions were unwanted.”

That deflated Zia’s anger.  She knelt on the floor next to Hayden, and he almost seemed to be trying to get her away from Mal; too bad she didn’t know if she should get away from him.  Zia said, “It wasn’t…thank you, but I wasn’t in any danger.”
Mal looked to Hayden, and Zia caught something she thought seemed like anger in his eyes.
After a heavy cough, Hayden climbed to his feet, and Zia with him.  “Stay back.”
“No, it’s fine,” Zia placed a hand on his shoulder, “this is…a friend.”  Mal looked up at her.
“Friend?” Hayden questioned.  “He’s a Caster!”
“I know!” Zia yelled, crossing her arms now that Hayden was breathing normally.  “It’s really complicated!”
“But,” Hayden stammered, “you hate Specters!”
“I know that too!” she said.  “He sort of…helped me out a bit…with a case.”
Hayden furrowed his brow at her, and then to Mal.  The Caster said through gritted teeth, “I apologize, again.”
“Right,” Hayden touched his throat.  “Understandable mistake.”
“Mal, stop following me,” Zia ordered him, “I’m at a party, not facing off against a werewolf in the South Quarter.  I can look after myself!”
Mal flinched, nodded, and vanished into blue dust.
“Blue?” Hayden jumped back.  “Zia do you have any idea—“
“I know what it means,” she said, “but don’t say anything!”  Zia looked down with a grimace at the ring of blue, and thought of her mother.  “My parents don’t know what I’m doing…they can’t know.”
Hayden’s eyes softened on hers when she faced him.  He asked, “He’s been following you?”
“He just wants to keep me safe…for some reason,” Zia admitted, “he wants to convince me that we can work together…or something.”
Hayden pursed his lips when shouts erupted from outside.  Someone shouted, “Alright!  Strip!”
Zia’s stomach dropped and she pushed past Hayden to the balcony.  Down below she spotted Iscah as she started to lift up her shirt, with a few boys around her ready with their phones.  She gave up getting it over her head, and began to fumble with the buttons as someone offered to give her a hand.
“Iscah!” Zia screamed across the party.  A few people nearby looked up at her, and she was already moving.
“Noble, it’s too high!” Hayden tried to grab her but she launched herself from the balcony.  The wind rushed against her face, and the crowd cleared for her as she landed, rolling into a summersault and standing with ease.  One of the many reasons she kept her hair on the shorter side.  Her heels clicked furiously as she ran for Iscah.
The humans had begun to whisper, but Zia kept her sights set on the boy trying to undress her clearly drunk friend.  Where had Cal gone?  He knew better than to leave a girl like that!
“Just a couple more buttons,” the boy laughed, his hand snaking around Iscah’s waist.  Zia recognized him from one of the Academies sports teams, and she had never liked him.  She yanked on his shoulder and whipped him around.  He said, “The Hell?”
The next thing he saw was Zia’s fist coming at him, and she connected her knuckles with his nose.  The crunch she heard wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it should have been, and she took her jacket off to cover Iscah.  The girl mumbled, her hair flopping in front of her face, “Zeeeeeah?  Was happnin?”
“We’re going home,” Zia declared, and zipped the jacket up.  The boy stumbled backwards and landed on his tailbone, which was when his teammates decided to put their phones away and take part.
“Hey, watch it!” one of them said.  “We were just having a little fun!”
“Fun?” Zia turned on him, a guy twice her size.  “She’s drunk, and you call watching her strip ‘fun’?”
“It’s not like she didn’t want to,” he held his hands out to the air.  Zia was officially pissed off, and after the day she had had, she just didn’t care anymore.  The guy went on, “So why don’t you apologize?”
“Alright,” Zia smiled coyly, “maybe you can take it as a physical apology?”
Cal had finally shown up, and was trying to push through the crowd because he knew what was coming.  He knew what happened when Zia lost her temper, though it didn’t happen often.  Somewhere near the patio door Hayden was trying to get to her as well.
“I’d like that,” the guy said, and reached out for Zia.
She laughed.  “I thought you would.”
In seconds her forehead connected with his nose, and he was stumbling backwards.  His friend leapt towards her, but she quickly dodged and countered by smashing her elbow into his throat.  As the boy whose nose she broke came up to grab onto Iscah, Zia spun and knocked her foot against the back of his knees, toppling him.
“Stop!” Cal cried just as one boy, one Zia had taken classes with, grabbed a nearby chair.  His lifted it over his head, Zia looking the other way, and brought it down towards her; she easily turned and blocked it with her left forearm.  But the force was enough to knock her down, and as she fell she swiped her foot beneath his.  Cal had arrived on the scene, and screamed, “I said stop!”
Hayden was there too, and he helped Zia stand.  She shook him off and they both went to Iscah, who was cowering by the table of drinks.  Everybody was watching Cal.
“We were just having fun!” one of the boys shouted, and Zia raised her fist to hit him again.  Hayden grabbed her arms and kept her at bay while Cal controlled the situation.
“Get out!  You could tell she was drunk,” he said to them, “you were taking advantage of her!”
Zia began to move Iscah out of the party, everyone easily clearing for her.  As she passed by Cal she whispered, “Where were you?”  And as she glared at him, she thought he looked guilty.
Hayden escorted them out, and drove them home, nobody saying a word until they arrived at Iscah’s house.
“She’s out cold,” Hayden stated, looking at the girls through the rearview mirror.  “Do you want help getting her in?”
Zia glanced out the window, at the porch light that was left on for her.  Iscah’s father was probably still awake, and she knew her friend would be grounded for a lifetime when her father found out she had been drinking.
“No,” Zia said, “I’ll just be a minute.”
It only took thirty seconds for Zia to get her friend in the door, and explain to her father that she had accidentally gotten drunk.  He seemed more worried than anything, but Zia knew that would change in the morning.
She hopped back into Hayden’s car, feeling the tension in the air.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not driving off as she had hoped.  “This was a stupid idea.”
“Take me home.”

Hayden parked in front of Zia’s house in the common, and his heart was beating so hard in his chest that he thought it might manage to crack a rib.  She just stared out the windshield, and he tried to apologize again.
“Stop it,” she ordered him, holding up a hand.  “Just stop it.”
He sighed.  She sighed.  And suddenly she said, “I just need a second to deal with everything, okay?  I just found out that my brother…” her voice choked off.
“Donataen?” Hayden asked quietly, understanding just a bit better.  When he was a kid, Zia’s brother had been his hero, and when he had been murdered…that was when Hayden had truly decided to become Ventori.  It was the same for her.  “What about him?”
“Nothing, I just…” Zia looked at him, and her eyes seemed to be glowing under the streetlamps.  “I think I’m getting close to who killed him.”
“It was a Specter,” Hayden stated, “you think you know who?”
“Yeah, I do.  Aeryn is…we’re working on it,” the corner of her lips curved upwards, and Hayden felt his chest tighten.  He didn’t like it when she smiled at the thought of another guy.
“Rinehart,” he breathed, facing the steering wheel.  When he faced Zia, ready to confront the issue, he found she was kissing him.  It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but he quickly kissed back.  Her hands were on the sides of his face, and before they deepened the kiss, she pulled away.  He was left a little awestruck, “What was that?”
“I’ll talk to you later.”

Zia jumped from his car, and tried to not run for her house.  Her face felt as if it was beating along with her heart, and she didn’t want Hayden to see it.  But what had she been thinking?  She just kissed him!  Willingly!
The door to her bedroom shut gently, and she flopped onto her bed with a moan.  What was she doing?
First she had kissed Aeryn, although it was by complete surprise, and she thought she liked him.  But then Mal was confusing her with how she should feel towards Specters, and now Hayden was kissing her?  And she him?
She tried to tell herself it was the stress of everything getting to her.  But when she rolled over and puffed her bangs out of her eyes, she had a feeling that Iscah had been right.  Maybe she had liked Hayden all along.  Even the Incubus seemed to think so; he had shifted his appearance to the boy after all.
Knowing she would never be able to sleep, she took off her makeup and started doing a little research on her computer.  She wanted to stop thinking about relationships, and focus on business, so she began looking into the latest Ventori death.  And that led her to her brother again, when she found the last case he had been working on was Donataen’s.



Chapter 19:
The next day Zia was surprised to find she had actually managed to get some sleep after everything that had happened.  But she groaned overtop of her morning coffee, trying to count how many bones she had probably broken at Cal’s party.  She owed him an apology, but she was still mad that he had left Iscah alone after giving her that drink.  And she wondered if anyone had called the Guard; her eyes shot open when there was a knock at the door, and the image of the Light Guard coming for her filled her mind.  Clan members weren’t supposed to beat the heck out of humans!  Even if they were jerks.
But it wasn’t armoured guards that stood on her doorstep, it was Iscah.
“What are you doing here?” she questioned her hung over friend.  Iscah was wearing loose jeans, and an even looser sweater, with her hair tied back to drape over her shoulder.  She had large bags under her eyes, and let out a groan.
“I’m sooo sorry,” she said, “I don’t know what happened last night!”
Zia waved her friend inside, and got her a cup of tea.  They both sat at the kitchen table, Win sleeping soundly upstairs and Cash already gone to work.  Zia rested her head in her hands and sighed, “Do you know what happened last night?”
“Not really,” Iscah confessed, “I remember Cal talking to me, and handing me a drink.  And then it just goes blank.  My dad is pissed.”
“I bet,” Zia laughed, knowing how her own father would feel if he had found out.  But she wasn’t sure if she should mention the stripping, or what she had done to protect Iscah.  With another heavy sigh, Zia told her everything; Cal or Hayden would probably open their big mouths sooner or later anyway.  Zia’s face flushed at the memory of Hayden’s mouth, but was brought back to reality when Iscah moaned again.
“I can’t believe it!” she cried, throwing her arms on the table and burying her face into them.  “I’ve never done anything like that!  Cal must hate me now!”
“If he hates anyone, it’ll probably be me,” Zia tried to make her feel better, “I’m the one that beat on his guests.  And I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“It’s not your fault,” Iscah leaned back up, “you didn’t make me drink.”
“But I saw you doing it,” Zia pulled her lips towards her teeth, “and I got distracted when I went to stop you.”
“Distracted by what?”
Zia wasn’t sure if she should tell Iscah about kissing Hayden, or that she had done it more than once.  The only part she knew she would leave out was Mal showing up, and threatening Hayden.  But he had done it for her, and she wasn’t sure what to think about that.  Instead, she asked Iscah, “Do you think all Specters are bad?”
Iscah flinched, and wrapped her hands around the cup on the table.  She quickly said, “No.  I mean, they’re just like me, like humans I mean, right?  Some are good, some are bad.”
“But Specters kill people,” Zia argued and Iscah looked down.
“I know you don’t like them,” she said, “after what happened to Donataen…but you can’t hate everyone because of what one person did.  Not everyone is evil.”
Iscah seemed so honest, and Zia didn’t have anything to say back.  She had known her best friend was the type to say that everyone was good, they had had plenty of conversations about it.  And Zia hated to admit that she was right, and that Aeryn was right.  She couldn’t keep hating Mal because of what he was, but she could hate him for stalking her.
“Maybe you’re right,” Zia whispered.
“How’s your mom doing?” Iscah suddenly asked, as if to avoid the topic.  But as soon as the words left her mouth, Zia felt even worse.  She didn’t just have to face her problems at work, she had them at home as well.
“Five months,” she looked away, “maybe less.”  She could feel the tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall, but she managed to hold them back.  She had never told Iscah any real timeline before; she had never told anyone.
“Oh Zia…I’m so sorry,” Iscah stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around her friend.  There was silence in the kitchen, a very long silence that Zia knew she would have to get used to very soon.

Win stood at the top of the stairs, listening as her daughter had retold last night’s events to Iscah.  She was happy, for a brief moment, that Zia seemed to be coming out of the shell she had been hiding in for the past two years when it came to Specters…but that quickly went away.  Iscah had asked the question, and Win knew what her daughter had done.
Five months, maybe less.  That was all she had left now, thanks to the sickness.  Five months of hospital trips, and sudden attacks.  Five months of watching her little girl have to watch her mother die, and watching her husband do the same.  Five months of pain, and sleeping, and nothing to help.
“There is one way,” Iscah said down the stairs, “that she might be able to live.”
“What?” Zia asked.  Win inched closer to the stairs, unsure of what this could be.  Nobody had ever told her there was a cure, or any way she could live.  Ever since she was a little girl she had known that she was sick; nobody had ever mentioned the possibility of her survival.
“I’ve been reading,” Iscah went on, nervously, “that when a human becomes a companion then they get a prolonged life, to match their…their master.”
Chairs screeched clattered and Win heard Zia slam her hands on the table.
“I won’t let her be used as a conduit!” she whispered loudly.  “To be some Casters companion!  She might live, but at what cost?  She’d be used for…for…”
“I’m sorry,” Iscah hurried, “it was just…I thought…”
“I have to go,” Zia declared, and Win moved down the hall so her daughter wouldn’t see her as she rushed by.  The door slammed shut, and Iscah was left alone in the kitchen.  Win descended the stairs, and turned just as Iscah was picking up a fallen chair.
“Is it true?” she questioned the girl.  “Would I be…would I live?”
Iscah’s pale eyes were rimmed with red, as if she had been crying all night.  But slowly she nodded her head, almost seeming guilty.  She said, “It is.”
“What do companions do?” Win came into the room, gently placing her fingertips on the table.  “Do you think…”
“I know someone,” Iscah blurted, “that you could be their companion, and I swear they wouldn’t use you at all for magic.  A-and they wouldn’t want much in return, just a promise.”
“A promise?” Win tucked a thin strand of hair behind her ear, this sounded too good to be true.  And she couldn’t stop the betrayal she felt for Cash for not telling her this sooner.  But then again…maybe he didn’t know, or he had easily accepted her death.  He was going to live to twice her age anyway; he must have accepted her death a long time ago.
“Just…” Iscah breathed heavily, her fingers turning white as she gripped the chair, “you have to promise not to tell anyone whose companion you are.  Okay?”
Win was beginning to get a dark feeling in her heart as she looked at the girl.  She was seventeen, about to enter her last year of high school, but she still looked like the little girl with blonde braids that Zia had befriended.  Win could remember her staying up to late during sleepovers, and sneaking out at fourteen to go to a party.  It was hard to see her look so troubled; Iscah was like her own daughter.
“What’s wrong?” Win asked, knowing there was something Iscah was hiding.
“I can make you my companion,” the girl confessed, and Win couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her mouth.  “Just don’t tell Zia!  Or Cash!”
Win’s mouth was hanging open, she knew that.  “Iscah…you’re…?”
“I’m a Caster,” she looked down, ashamed, “but I don’t do anything bad.  I barely do anything at all, actually.  And I know I should have said this before but…I just…”
“It’s alright,” Win came around the table and gave her a hug.  She was hesitant at first, but she eventually gave one back.  Win said, “You would do this for me?  Even though Zia…”
“I would,” Iscah started to cry, “I would.  I love you, you’re like my own mother, and I would do it even if Zia found out about me.  Even if she hated me, and never—“
“Shush,” Win ordered, “she could never hate you.”
They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, just holding each other.  Win couldn’t believe this, the fact that Iscah was a Caster, or that she had a chance to survive.  Soon, Iscah said, “I have to ask my dad how to do it properly.  We can do it this afternoon, I guess, unless you need more time.”
Win released the girl, and considered if she should tell Cash or Zia about this.  But she knew that it would take time for Zia to get used to the idea, and Cash would do anything for her, right?  Win shook her head, and whispered, “This afternoon is fine.”
Because that meant that she would have a lifetime with her family.  They wouldn’t have to watch her wither away to nothing, to die in a hospital.  She would get to see her daughter go to college, and graduate college, and maybe even start a family someday.  With Hayden, of course, not that strange Aeryn man.
“Thank you,” Win kissed the top of Iscah’s head.  “I know this must have been hard.”
They exchanged another hug, and Iscah ran off to ask her father what to do.

Interesting, the woman thought from her private realm.  She had planned on leaving to follow this Kehzia, but she was glad she stayed behind.  When she had seen the woman at the top of the stairs, her curiosity got the better of her; as it usually did.
She had the sickness, this Win Noble.  And that meant certain death for a human, unless a Caster stepped in.  This other girl, Iscah was her name?  She stepped in just in time.
But how Iscah had managed to conceal her power for so long, from so many Ventori, was beyond the woman’s imagination.  She could see it from her other realm, that aura of strength.  Many Casters weren’t capable of such power at that age, and yet she was already able to make herself a companion?
The woman brushed back her raven hair and left now that the little Caster was gone.  Kehzia Noble kept interesting company, and maybe it was about time they made friends.  Maybe.



Chapter 20:
Zia’s boots pounded the concrete, her blood rushing through her veins at the thought of some Caster making her mother a companion.  She couldn’t help but imagine Achaicious running his magic through her, using her to kill people like he did Delmont. She shivered, even though it wasn’t cold out, and wondered where she was going.
She had left so suddenly, and now she was just wandering around New Havilan.  Aeryn hadn’t contacted her yet, and the thought of him only brought up more issues.
From her research last night, she had come up with nothing on her brother, Aeryn, or Cindel.  The only connection she had were love letters and a photograph, but it was enough.  Not only that, she had already figured out that it was Achaicious that had ordered the killings, which were then executed by his assistant.  His off-shore bank account was what managed to help him stay hidden, it seemed, along with his magic.
The cobalt dagger was heavy in her pocket, and she stopped on the concrete a moment to think about it.  Had it belonged to Trenton’s father?  Is that why the Realm Walker had picked it up?  Zia imagined Trenton in her mind, and decided it was time to visit him; maybe she could find out more about her brother in the process.

It wasn’t that hard to discover where she could find Trenton.  A quick call to the library and Mrs. Mayfield was telling her the directions.  The hard part was deciding what she would say when Trenton’s mother opened the door.  They both thought he had committed suicide, and Zia didn’t really have any connections other than the child.  So she picked up a bouquet of flowers on the way there, hoping the small gift would get her inside the house.
Trenton lived in a home much like her own, and Zia pressed the doorbell, flowers held at chest level.  Just as she began to bounce on her feet, she realized that she wasn’t dressed in typical mourning clothes; she was still in the same bright blue top as last night.  At least I’m wearing jeans, she thought to herself.
An elderly man opened the door, which Zia wasn’t expecting.  He asked, “Yes?”
“Hello,” Zia gave a solemn smile, “my name is Kehzia Noble, I just wanted to give my condolences about Trenton’s father.”
His already soft eyes looked even gentler, and he nodded slowly.  He stepped back, and opened the door wider, “Come inside.  I’m just watching Trent while his mother takes care of some…business.”
“Thank you,” Zia said, grateful that things were going so smoothly.  She walked inside, and the man took the flowers from her.
“I’ll put these in some water,” he announced, “would you like some tea?  Trenton is just in the living room reading.  He told me a girl told him of the clans, was that you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Mayfield at the daycare asked me to.  But I would love some tea,” Zia watched his eyes drift towards a nearby doorway, and she turned to see Trenton sitting in a large chair, nose in a book.  “Do you mind if I talk to him?”
“He’s sensitive,” the man said, “please be careful what you say.”
“Of course.”  He turned and walked into another room, and Zia entered the doorway to watch Trenton.  He didn’t look much different than when she had last seen him, his legs still kicked against the chair happily, as he eagerly turned the pages of his book.  But she could see he wasn’t smiling as much, and the very aura of the room felt…broken.  She stepped inside, and the boy looked up.
“Hey, kid,” she started, moving slowly towards him.  When she made it to the chair, she knelt down and asked, “How ya doing?”
Trenton just stared at her, and his eyes fell back to his book.  Zia sighed, knowing it was a pointless question to ask; his father had just died.  And he probably thought his father killed himself, like he didn’t matter.  Unsure of what to do, Zia tried, “What are you reading?”
The boy stopped just as he was about to turn a page and replied, “Book on Neith history.”
“Sounds interesting,” Zia smiled, happy that he had given her an answer, “what have you learned?”
“The Neith were proud,” Trenton said and he flipped the page over, “they brought everyone together.  They didn’t keep them apart like my dad.”
Zia pursed her lips.  She didn’t want to tell him that his father had been murdered, but how could she just let him think his father had abandoned him?  She leaned back onto her heels, and thought about what to say next when she noticed some papers on the table.
“I’m sure your dad loved you a lot,” she said, eyeing the papers.  They looked similar to the files found at Cindel’s condo, and it was hard for Zia to hold back going through them.
“Then why did he go away?” Trenton’s small hands laid flat against the pages of the book.  Before Zia could even think of an answer the elderly man came in from the kitchen, two cups of steaming tea in his hands.  Zia stood as he entered, and thanked him for the drink.
“Would you care to sit down?” he asked.  They both sat on the couch opposite Trenton, and she rested the cup on her legs.  “I don’t believe I introduced myself, I’m Carnel, Trenton’s grandfather.”
“You can call me Zia,” she said back, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Carnel nodded his head again, and he didn’t seem too broken up over the death, but Zia could sense his sadness, it was there, just under the surface; the Neith were always good at concealing things.
“Do you mind if I ask what he did for a living?” Zia questioned casually.  If he had been working with Cindel, then she was sure he had been killed for the same reason.  And those papers on the table were looking so tempting.
“He worked at City Ark, down in the catacombs,” Carnel didn’t seem worried or confused by the question, “he worked on cold cases, I believe.”  He chuckled.  “It was always more of a hobby for him; he loved solving what other people couldn’t.”
Zia smiled.  “I know the feeling.  Was he working on anything before he passed away?”  She didn’t want to say “killed himself” or “was killed”, but even passed away sounded wrong.  Trenton turned a page in his book.
“I’m sorry,” Carnel shook his head, “I don’t know anything about what he works on.  He did seem rather…distraught though, for the few days before…”
“I see,” Zia took a sip of tea, eyeing the child across from them.  She didn’t like seeing kids so sad, so unable to deal with tragedy.  Kids were supposed to be happy, and running around causing havoc; not quietly reading a book in a study.
“He did mention something about a Specter,” Carnel set his tea onto his lap, and looked up in thought.  “I believe it was something about a Wraith?  He always started mumbling when it came to his work.”
“Wraith?” Zia’s mind perked up at that, and it was all she needed.  But just as she was about to leap off of the cushion, she watched Trenton.  “Do you know if he was working with anyone?  Did he have a partner?”
Carnel shook his head, and Trenton peeked up from his book.  “No,” the man said, “he always worked alone, I think.”
“He was working with a lady,” Trenton almost whispered, “she was tall with pretty red hair.  Her name was Cindy.”
“Trenton,” Carnel came in, “you never told me that.”
The boy shrugged, and Zia had heard enough.  She said, “Excuse me, I have to get going.  I’m so sorry, again.”
In seconds she was already out the door, but she gave one last look to Trenton.  She wondered how the family would feel when they realized that the man they had lived with hadn’t killed himself, but was actually murdered.

Zia came out of the house, and Aeryn was already waiting for her on the corner of the street.  He watched as her boots thumped away, each step taking her closer to him.  She only looked up just as she was about to run into him.
“Morning,” he said to her.  She looked surprised to see him, and he grinned.
“Where did you come from?” she questioned, looking up and down the street for Cindy.  He wondered if she had figured out he named the horse after Cindel.
“I’ve been watching you,” Aeryn shrugged casually, “so what did we learn?”
“That Trenton’s father was involved with Cindel,” Zia admitted easily, too easily he thought.  “And he definitely did not kill himself.”
“So why carry the extra dagger around?” he dropped his eyes to her jacket.  He had noticed the way it fell further to her hips, but never said anything about it.  At first he thought it was just extra protection, but she kept moving her hands there as if to make sure she didn’t drop it.  Zia bit her lip, and reached in her pocket to reveal a cobalt dagger.  Aeryn whistled.
“That’s some fancy weaponry you got there,” he held his hand out to take it, and hesitantly she handed it over.  The blade was well balanced, and could easily take out any Specter that dared touch it.  But the handle was simple, save for a small engraving on the bottom of an oval with an “X” at either ends; the symbol of the Neith.
“I found it at the cliff, where he had supposedly jumped,” Zia went on, “right after—“ she cut herself off.
“Right after what?” Aeryn eyed her, and she looked away.
Zia took a breath, and seemed to be deciding what to do.  But soon she admitted, “Right after the Realm Walker dropped it.”

She saw his pupils retract to pinpricks, and the way his face paled just a bit.  His grip on the dagger tightened, thankfully around the handle and not the blade, and he let out a wheeze.  He breathed, “Realm Walker?”
“Yeah,” Zia shifted her feet, “the cobalt burned her and then…she vanished.”
Aeryn cursed.  “I knew you saw something!  I knew it, and I thought you would be smart enough to tell me if you did!  Why in Light did you not tell me?”
“Well,” Zia panicked, and the words came out before she could stop them, “why didn’t you tell me that you knew Donataen and Cindel?”
That seemed to stop him.  He thrust the dagger back at her, and she yanked it from his hands.  He sighed and crossed his arms, flicking his head to move his hair back.  He spoke through gritted teeth, “Because you weren’t ready.”
“You knew I would find those photos, and the letters,” she accused him, “so why didn’t you just say you knew him?  That the only reason you’re mentoring me is because of him?”
“That isn’t the only reason,” Aeryn said, “and I needed to find out what you were capable of.”
Zia furrowed her brow, not understanding.  What did that have to do with anything?  She questioned, “How did you know him?”
“We went to school together, sort of,” Aeryn held a hand out in the air, “he and Cindel went to the Academy together, and we met one night when they were trying to catch a STRAY.  I saved their sorry asses before they got themselves killed, and we just started Tracking together.  I was already a Ventori at the time, so I sort of…showed them the ropes.”
“You were his mentor?” Zia could hear the betrayal in her voice.  Donataen had never told her about a mentor…why had he never mentioned Aeryn or Cindel?
“We had a bit of a falling out a few years ago,” Aeryn continued, “we haven’t talked in a while…but he always talked about you.”
Zia’s expression softened.  “Really?”
“He said you were a pain in the ass, and I now know why.”
“Oh.”
“You can’t go off on your own like this, like they did,” Aeryn scolded her, “you need to share information with your partner, so they can back you up.  So I can back you up.  Not some little human who can barely look a person in the eye.”
“You’re my mentor, not my partner,” Zia shot back, as if that mattered.  But she was still mad that he had been following her, again.  Why did everyone follow her around?
“Same thing right now,” Aeryn leaned in, and Zia could feel herself starting to think back to the kiss.  As attracted as she was to him though, something was off, and she found she was starting to think of Hayden again.  He said, “So let’s share what we know, and go over to Wraith to question Achaicious.”
“We’re going to Wraith?” Zia almost jumped, and their faces were only an inch apart.  Aeryn was first to start moving.
“We need to see what he knows,” Aeryn called behind him, and Zia followed like a puppy after its mother, “but we need to bring Malachi with us.”
Zia stopped.  “Mal?  Why?”
“Because you carry too many weapons on you,” Aeryn laughed, “and he’s claimed you as his companion, right?”
She grimaced and caught up with her mentor.  “Don’t remind me.”
“Let’s go find him then.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Zia declared, “after last night I bet he’s still stalking me.”
“He likes you,” Aeryn shrugged, “what happened last night?”
Zia spoke too quickly to be seen as innocent, “Nothing.”
“What did I just say about sharing information?”
“Okay,” Zia caved in, “Mal just…thought something was happening when it really wasn’t at a party.  He just…threatened Hayden a bit, and I told him to go away.”
She pictured how defeated he had looked, and how he looked like she had just ripped his heart out and let him watch it strike its last beat.  At the time she was more concerned with making sure Hayden was still breathing, and she started to feel a little guilty.
“What did he think was happening?” Aeryn shifted his eyes towards her, but she kept hers forward.
“Well Hayden sorta jumped me, and kissed me, and I shoved him away and he grabbed my arm, and Mal freaked out,” Zia explained badly.  “Then Iscah was having trouble by the pool so I broke a few…noses and then I kissed Hayden in the car and now I don’t know what to think because I was pretty certain I hated him, and now I’m all…whatever.”
“I didn’t need to know most of that,” Aeryn told her, a grimace on his lips.
“You said share, so I’m sharing,” Zia stuck her hands in her pockets, feeling slightly better after admitting so much.
“So how would you find Mal now?” Aeryn tested her.  She sighed, and stopped.  Aeryn did the same.
Zia called out to the air, “Mal, if you’re here just show yourself!”
Nothing.  The wind blew hard against them, hinting that it might start raining within the next few days.  Zia said louder, “I won’t be mad!  We just need your…help.”
“With Achaicious?” Mal appeared behind them, and Zia jumped back.  Aeryn smiled, and Zia noticed Mal had an unnervingly intense stare.  More so than normal.
“I said stop following me!” Zia cried out and smacked Mal’s shoulder playfully.  The Specter fumbled with his words, obviously not understanding why she hit him when she claimed she wouldn’t be mad.
“Yes, with Achaicious,” Aeryn said.  “We just need you there so he doesn’t kill her.”
“Why wouldn’t he kill you, too?” Zia questioned.
“Because I’m a high ranking Ventori, you’re an initiate.  I also didn’t infiltrate his club while he wasn’t there, and piss of his assistant.”
Zia remembered Delmont under the flashing lights.  She doubted it would take much to make him angry; he was a werewolf after all, they weren’t known for their good tempers.
“I will be happy to help,” Mal cut in, eyes never leaving Zia.  She squinted at him, trying to read him but couldn’t.  “Is your friend feeling better?”
“Iscah?” Zia’s eyebrows rose.  “Yeah, ashamed and humiliated, but she survived.”
“You were quite amazing in combat,” Mal went on, and he began to play with his fingers, “I had planned on helping…but…”
“If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to beat up boys.  Been doing it ever since Hayden beat me in our fourth grade hundred meter race.” Zia laughed, and Mal managed a smile.  Somehow, she found it was easier to talk to him now.  But as soon as she noticed Aeryn watching her curiously, she cleared her throat, “Let’s get to Wraith, then.”
But she could tell he knew she was starting to trust Mal; starting to trust a Specter.



Chapter 21:
Win sat at her kitchen table, fidgeting while she waited for Iscah to arrive.  She had said they would make the arrangement this afternoon, and it was just past one o’clock.  The waiting was one of the worst things she had to do, but she had done plenty of it at the hospital.  At least now she wouldn’t have to wait anymore, not after Iscah made her a companion.  Win sighed, wondering how she would ever tell Cash the news.
She remembered when she had first seen him, in middle school.  He had just transferred from over the water, and was only beginning to become immersed in a dominantly human society.  He had scared her, since the only thing she knew of clan members were stories, and they sounded terrifying.  But when he sat next to her in science class, he was gentle.  He helped her through lessons she couldn’t figure out, and they became quick friends.  It wasn’t long before they started dating.
Win loved that he didn’t care that she was human, and that it was frowned upon for a clan member to be with one.  When she tried to break up with him after hearing about their extended life span, and her own shortened one he wouldn’t let her go.  He married her instead.
She smiled down at her wedding ring, remembering clearly when he had put it on her.  Now she would get to spend so much time with him, and Zia. 
It had occurred to her, what being a companion would mean.  Iscah would have the ability to transfer her magic through Win’s body, use her as a conduit for more power.  But even though she still couldn’t wrap her mind around Iscah being a Specter, or how she had managed to hide it for so long, she knew she was in good hands.  Iscah would never do anything to hurt her, or anyone else for that matter.  The only problem would be if Zia found out, and she would, eventually.
A tentative tapping on the kitchen door took Win from her thoughts, and she turned to find Iscah there.  She immediately stood and opened the screen door, allowing the girl inside.  Being a Specter didn’t change Win’s love for her.  And Win was certain it wouldn’t change Zia’s.
“Are you ready?” Iscah asked, placing her book bag on the table.
“Yes,” Win said.  “It won’t…what will it feel like?  Being a companion?”
“Companion?” Cash was suddenly in the doorway, briefcase in hand as he watched the two.  He stepped inside.
“Honey,” Win’s eyes were wide, and she knew he must be able to tell what was going on.  The Medean were the most cunning, and he knew her too well.  “You’re home early.”
“You have an appointment at the hospital this afternoon,” he eyed them both, then the bag on the table.  He sighed, and added, “You’ve finally offered, have you Iscah?”
“Off-off-offered?” she stammered.
“It’s alright,” he held his hands up and came into the kitchen.  As he set his briefcase down he tried to give her a reassuring smile, “I’ve always known.”
Iscah let out a strange sort of squeal, and her face paled.  Win almost thought she would have to catch the poor girl as she passed out, but she managed to stay standing.  She mumbled, “How?”
“I am friends with your father,” Cash chuckled, “we play cards every week.  It was bound to come out.”
The girl nodded, but Win knew the real question she wanted to ask.  Did Zia know as well?
“She doesn’t know,” Cash answered their unasked question.  “It might be best to…ease her into this information.”
“I want to do it,” Win blurted, “please, Cash, let me do it.”
He looked at his wife, and slowly walked around the table.  He wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “I’m not going to stop you.  I’m sorry I never suggested it sooner…I just…”
“I know,” Win could feel the tears gathering in her eyes, and she closed them as she pressed her face against his shoulder.  That same shoulder that had protected her for so many years, the body of the man willing to love her even though she would die a century before him.
“We should get started then,” Iscah cut in after a while.  And just like that, Win could see for the first time ever that she had her whole life ahead of her.

Hayden gripped the steering wheel of his car, feeling embarrassed and excited all at once.  Last night…Zia had kissed him.  Yes, he kissed her first, but before he dropped her off she had been the one to initiate it!  He smiled to himself, and wondered if he should call her.  But she had said she wanted time to think; that was both crushing and relieving to him.
He wondered though, about that blond Specter and about Zia’s brother.  She had said she found something out…but what?  And who was that Specter to her?
Hayden’s thoughts grew heavier by the second as he waited out front of the college for Cal to finish his interview.  He had thought Cal was a moron for throwing a party the night before such an important moment; but that was who he was.  And he had technically helped Hayden get alone with Zia, even though it didn’t turn exactly as he’d imagined.
He always wondered how far she had gone with Cal, his best friend.  One of the only reasons Cal had asked her out was because Hayden told him not to.  And she had said yes.  For the few months they had dated, Hayden never talked to him, unless she was there; and that look she always had around him just made everything feel worse.  During the time they weren’t talking Hayden always heard stories from guys about how good she was, how clan members were just so much better in bed than humans.  But as he pictured Zia in his mind he could easily imagine her in bed with Cal, maybe that was why she had reacted so strangely last night; he had taken her into Cal’s room of all places.
Hayden groaned and reclined his seat in a sudden movement.  Covering his eyes with his forearm, he wished he could know what she was doing then, or at least what she was thinking.
“Love problems, big boy?” a seductive voice rang in his car.  He uncovered his eyes and found a woman was sitting in his back seat, staring down at him with eerily light blue eyes.  Hayden shot upwards, and she laughed.  “Love it is.”
“Who the Light are you?” he shouted, trying to figure out how she could have gotten into his car without him noticing.  She just shrugged, flicking her raven hair over her shoulder.
“That can come later,” she said, her voice still sounding like silk across his skin, “but aren’t you wondering what the spunky Miss Noble is up to?”
“Zia?” Hayden breathed, his hand moving for the handle on the door.  He could see the ashes around her, and realized she must be a Caster…but what kind of Caster left ash behind?  He had no idea.
“She might need a hand where she’s going,” the woman told him, “she’s heading down to the club Wraith, and she’s…all alone.”  The woman leaned forward, draping her arms over the passenger seat.  “I wonder what a Specter might do to a pretty girl like that down in the South Quarter?”
“She’s in the South Quarter?” Hayden questioned, and she nodded.

It was like leading a cat into a wall with a flashlight, the woman thought.  This boy was a clan member, but he was naïve when it came to women, or at least one of them.  She laughed in his car, and vanished into her own realm, leaving the car completely.
She watched as he raced off down the street, no other thought than to save his little girlfriend.
The woman didn’t want to do what she had, and her expression turned to a scowl.  But she needed a better distraction than two Ventori and a Specter down at Wraith if she was going to get what she wanted.  And a lovesick teenager would do just the trick.



Chapter 22:
As Zia, Mal, and Aeryn approached the front door of Wraith, the bouncer stepped aside.  Aeryn nodded at him, and the man nodded back at Mal.  Zia just followed them inside with her head held high, acting as if she belonged.  She would not question why they got in so easily this time.  She would trust Aeryn.
The club was quiet now, since it was the afternoon, and it almost seemed sad that the lights were all on, and not flashing.  But as they walked through the hallway and came to the dance floor Zia was reminded of how close she had come to getting killed by Delmont, and how close she had gotten to Mal while dancing.  At least this time there was nobody drinking blood at the bar…
“Good afternoon,” a sleek voice came to the across the floor.  “I’ve been expecting you back here.”
Zia shifted her eyes to the stage where Achaicious stood, directing two of his employees as they moved around some equipment.  His hair was slicked back, and he wore a dark red shirt over black pants; he looked like a true professional.  Zia glared at him, and it was hard to repress the urge to strangle him with her cobalt chain.  This man had ordered her brother’s death and then covered it up.
“Achaicious,” Aeryn called out but stopped midway to the stage, “glad you could make time to see us.”
“It’s not all of you I’m interested in,” he replied, and his eyes flicked towards Zia and Mal.  “Delmont told me you two came to visit the other day, I’m so sorry I missed you.”  He stepped down from the stage and closed the distance between them.  When he was close enough to touch, Zia kept her hands at her sides, in fists.
“Hello, Achaicious,” Mal greeted.  The Specter waved his hand at him, but his eyes never left Zia.
“You look angry,” he told her, “would you like a drink to settle your nerves?”
“I’d like the turn away charm to be taken off, thanks,” Zia spat.  The charm had been affecting her ever since she entered the building, urging her to run and do something else.
“That shouldn’t have any effect on you,” Achaicious rolled his eyes towards Mal, “since you’re his companion.  Unless…that was a lie?”
“She is mine,” Mal spoke quietly, moving closer to Zia.  She stared down the man, and he stared right back.
“I think we’re off topic, here,” Aeryn cut in, “we just want to know if you’ve seen this man here.  Supposedly this was his last known location.”
He held up a photograph of Trenton’s father.  Achaicious bent over to get a closer look, and brushed his fingers over his mustache as he said, “Sorry, don’t recognize him.”
“You sure about that?” Zia said.  “Maybe Delmont does, since he—“
Mal covered her mouth before she could finish her sentence, but the werewolf had already heard his name and came over.  Zia threw Mal’s hands from her, and glowered at him, and then Delmont.
“Problem, Ventori?” the werewolf spat.
“Yeah, there—“
“We’re just looking into a suicide,” Aeryn cut her off.  “Trying to piece together his last day.”
“Was he a friend of yours?” Delmont asked, glancing at the photo; but he turned to Zia, a wicked smile on his face, “Family, maybe?”
Nobody had even seen Zia move as she raised her fist beneath Delmont’s chin, an uppercut strong enough to hit back even a werewolf.  She ignored the dull pain it gave her, and reveled as he fell backwards.  He quickly straightened himself and growled, already starting to change.
Aeryn grabbed onto Zia before she could do any more damage, and she thrashed against him to get away.  She wanted to hurt both those Specters so badly, make them feel the same pain she had to suffer.  Mal held his hands up to her, as if trying to decide whether or not he would be allowed to touch her again.  But Aeryn was doing well enough keeping her at bay.

The woman raised one small eyebrow, realizing that apparently she didn’t have to trick that other boy into getting down to the club; Kehzia was distraction enough.  She tried not to enjoy the look on Delmont’s face as the girl hit him, a complete surprise to everyone in the room.  Well, everyone but Achaicious.
She shook herself back to her real goal and slipped past the employees on stage to get to the backrooms.  There, she found what she needed, and entered the realm, ensuring she left behind no dust.  In Achaicious’ office, she went right for the safe, and easily guessed his combination.
“Oh, Achaicious,” she whispered to herself, brushing her hair back, “so predictable.”
She grabbed the papers she needed, and closed the door, listening as it locked.  Before anyone was the wiser, she vanished.
“Brother, dear,” she said as she moved past Achaicious being sure to tickle her fingers across his neck, “this is revenge.”

Zia was already being dragged away from Delmont and his boss when Hayden arrived.  The three of them were being kicked out, after what she had done.  She knew it was a mistake, and a mistake that would surely come back to bite her.  Maybe literally.  But it felt good to see how surprised that werewolf had looked when she decked him.  And he had been surprised, and most likely ashamed that she managed to knock him back, even if it was just a couple of feet.
“Zia!” Hayden called to her as he burst past the front guard.  Aeryn was dragging her out, keeping a tight grip on her arms, and Mal just trailed behind.  The guard grabbed onto Hayden, and tossed him out with the others.
In the sunlight, Zia could see just how much she screwed up by the expression on Aeryn’s face.  He yelled, “What were you thinking?  You could have gotten us killed!”
“He deserved worse!” Zia yelled back, not really caring that she was in the wrong.  “He was taunting me, and you know it!”
“Of course I do,” Aeryn spun on his heel as if trying to figure out what to do next.  With his back turned to her, his head twisted to the side as he spoke.  “Donataen wasn’t just your family, he was mine too.  And now we might not be able to get them for his death.”  He started walking away, and when Zia tried to follow he ordered, “You stay out of the way for now.  I need to report to Madsen about your progress!”
“Hey!” Zia shouted after him, stopping on the sidewalk with Hayden and Mal.  “This is more important than a stupid report!”
Aeryn didn’t reply, and left her to do things on her own.   She knew he wasn’t going to file a report.  He was probably going to try and get an order to have Delmont and Achaicious labeled as STRAYs.  How he was going to do that though was beyond her.
She turned to the boys behind her.  “What are you doing here?”
Hayden looked at her, “A woman told me you were coming here alone.  I thought you would need help.  What happened?”
“I punched the guy that killed Donataen,” Zia said, the image of her brothers bloodied body coming back to her.  It was obviously a werewolf kill, she thought.  “And now it might have cost the case.”
“Why would it interrupt the case?” Mal questioned, his violet eyes staring at her.
“Because he isn’t STRAY, so I could be charged for harassment,” Zia explained, voice tight, “and then anything I say against them will be completely ignored.”
Mal twitched his head, as if realizing something.  When Zia opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, he puffed away, leaving his usual blue residue.  Hayden flinched, and Zia just sighed.
Defeated, she walked over to a nearby bench and fell onto it, Hayden right behind her.
“I can’t do anything right,” she whined, feeling the familiar lump in her throat.  “I can’t control my temper, and I can’t find enough proof that they’re the ones killing Ventori, and I—I can’t save my mom just like I couldn’t save Donataen.”  Tears started to fall, and Hayden put his arms around her.  She covered her eyes.
Nobody understands, Zia thought, not one person knows what this is like.  She went on, ripping her hands from her face.  “We finally find out that they’re behind the murders, and I screw everything up!”
“It’s not over,” Hayden told her, pulling her closer, “I’m sure Rinehart the Unbreakable will catch them, you know the stories better than anyone.”
Zia sniffled, and thought of how many times Aeryn must have faced something worse than this.  How many times had he run into this kind of wall?  When a setback almost cost him a STRAY.
“It’s different this time,” she whispered, “it’s personal.  And we still don’t know why they’re doing it.  The board won’t label them as STRAYs if they don’t have a reason.  Although they’re Specters, so they could just be doing it for fun.”
“There must be a reason,” Hayden said, “and I bet if anyone is going to figure it out, it’ll be you.  Because you’re kind of psychotic when you put your mind to something.”
Zia actually laughed, and shoved him away from her.  “Shut up.  I’m passionate.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Hayden grinned at her, and she found she couldn’t help but smile wider.
“Who told you I was here?” Zia suddenly asked, remembering what he had said.  As far as she knew nobody knew she was going to Wraith, since she didn’t even know until an hour ago.
“A woman,” Hayden said, “she just sort of appeared in my car, I think she was a Caster.  She left behind ashes though.”
“Ashes?” Zia’s back straightened.  “With black hair?  Narrow eyes?”
“Yeah,” Hayden inched towards her on the bench, “you know her?”
“Maybe,” Zia jumped from the bench and started walking when Hayden joined her.  “You got your car here?”
“It’s across the bridge,” he said, pointing towards where they were heading, “I couldn’t get it over here.  No permit.”
Zia picked up the pace, and when they crossed the border to the North Quarter she spotted Hayden’s car.  He hurried to open the door for her, and they both climbed inside.
“What are you thinking?” Hayden asked her, and Zia just shook her head, not sure herself.
“You here?” she looked into the backseat, and only saw a bit of ash there.  “If you wanted a distraction, I’m guessing I gave you a good one.”
“Noble, what are—“
“You did, indeed,” the woman with raven hair flashed into the backseat, leaving no ashes behind her.  “You’re good for one so young…maybe.”
Hayden jumped at her sudden appearance, but Zia never moved.  She stared at the woman, and asked, “Why are you following me?”
“Coincidence,” the woman shrugged, “we have similar goals, and I think you can help me.”
“Is that why you gave me the dagger?” she asked.  Hayden was silent in the driver’s seat, just watching the girls talk.
The woman rolled her eyes away, and Zia realized that had been an accident.  She said, “Sure.  But I’m here to give you something else.”
“What is it?”
The woman reached into her jacket and pulled out a few folded papers.  Slowly, she handed them to Zia, who took them greedily.  She started reading, though she didn’t like taking her eyes off of the Realm Walker.
“This…” Zia began, flipping through the pages.
“Yes,” the Walker agreed, “everything you need.”
“Who are you?” Zia looked up from the papers, eyeing the woman.
“Name’s Machatta,” she purred, eyelids dropping ever so slightly, “and I want Achaicious dead.”
“Why?” it was Hayden that asked.  Machatta shrugged, and tied her hair back with what looked to be a single strand of her hair.
“He’s the reason I was banished,” she revealed.  Zia was surprised that she would tell them so much, unless it was a lie.  She narrowed her eyes at the woman in the back seat.
“How’d you get back?”
“Power,” Machatta smiled.  “Don’t feel too bad about not sensing me, you don’t seem very good at it, child.”
“What’s that mean?”
Machatta shook her head, and gestured to the papers in Zia’s hands.  “Just make him STRAY, and take him down.  Delmont will just be my gift to you; he killed your brother, right.”
Zia pursed her lips, not happy that this woman knew so much about her.  Just how long had she been following her?  Just how often did she not notice a Specter was in her house, like Mal, or standing right next to her?  She had always thought she had good senses, but maybe being half human was dulling her mind.
“That’s what I thought,” Machatta said.  “We both want Achaicious in the catacombs under the Arks, so why not work together?  This would look good on your file, after all.”
“I don’t care about my file,” Zia declared, but Machatta just raised one eyebrow at her, lips tight.  “Okay, I care a little.  But that isn’t important right now.”
“You’re file is very important to certain people,” Machatta hinted, and just before she left she added, “Specters aren’t the only monsters in this city.”



Chapter 23:
Aeryn’s blood was boiling, adrenaline rushing through him over what Zia had done.  He walked along the sidewalk, replaying everything in his head; she wasn’t anything like her brother.  Donataen was by the book, did everything right, and made sure that his emotions never got the best of him.  But Zia, she just ran into everything and decided to figure out what would happen later!  Aeryn huffed, knowing he was more upset at himself than her.
He shouldn’t have brought her, knowing that Achaicious and Delmont had killed Donataen.  But he was her mentor, and he had thought she would be able to control herself; thought he would be able to control her.  How wrong her was.
He had never expected her to attack Delmont though, and actually be able to knock him back a bit.  But now he had to try and get an order from VA to bring in Achaicious and Delmont, but they could counter with a harassment suit against Zia.  Just as Aeryn was going to get Cindy and head over to VA, he heard a car screech to a stop beside him.  He turned to find Zia jumping from the vehicle, Hayden Rider in the driver’s seat.
“Aeryn!” she cried.  “I got it!”

Zia explained what had just happened, being sure to show him the papers Machatta had given her as proof.  She had handed over all the information to get an order to label Achaicious as STRAY, and probably Delmont as well.  She was excited, so much so that she completely forgot to care about Machatta’s motive.  All she cared about was catching Achaicious.  But Aeryn had something else in mind.
“We need to give this to the Ark,” he told her, eyeing how Hayden hadn’t moved from the car.  “We should have an order by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Zia questioned.  “Let’s get him now!  We have the reduc-chains, why don’t we just—“
“No,” her mentor ordered.  He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, leaning in so close that he could barely focus on her eyes. “If you want to make sure he stays in the catacombs then we have to do this right.  Ventori might work in a lot of illegal ways, but not this time.  This is for Donataen, and you don’t want to mess that up, do you?”
Zia paused, but soon shook her head.  She said, “No.  So what now?”
“Go home,” Aeryn said, “or go on a date.  Wait until I contact you, and we’ll bring him in with a proper order.”
The papers slipped easily from Zia’s hands and into Aeryn’s, unable to look away from him.  He’s right, she thought, I can’t screw up again.  She nodded at him and asked, “You won’t go without me, right?”
“Never, kid,” Aeryn smiled, and whistled for his steed.  Cindy appeared from around the corner, and he climbed onto her.  As he rode away Zia watched him go, wondering if that was where her brother had gotten his typical saying.  Whenever she wanted to go on a case with him, she asked him if he would go without her; and he would simply reply, “Never, kid.”
She heard the door to Hayden’s car click open as he got out.  Zia glanced over at him, and he had his hands on the door.  He asked, “You want me to take you home?”
Zia thought of her mother, and how she had an appointment at the hospital that afternoon.  Her father would be taking her, and as much as Zia wanted to run to see her, she couldn’t face the silence of that house.  Not yet, and she shook her head.
“Want to go do something fun?” Hayden gave her a sly smile, and somehow she gave him one back.
“What did you have in mind?”

Hayden was strapping on his own helmet just as Zia snapped her goggles over her eyes.  Even though it probably wasn’t the best time to be feeling what he was, he couldn’t help it; it was like they were on a date.  He could tell she felt guilty over something, but she seemed to have recovered quickly.  It must have been since Aeryn had agreed to let her go with him tomorrow.
“Move over,” Zia was pushing a hand on his chest, shoving him to the back of the motorcycle, “I get to drive.”
“Okay,” Hayden laughed, and she climbed over the bike.  He grabbed onto her waist, not feeling the least bit emasculated by her attitude, and questioned, “Have you ever driven one of these before?”
They were out front of his house, and she had seemed pretty interested in going for a drive on his new bike.  He had hoped to have her arms wrapped around his waist, but this was a good alternative.
“Nope!” Zia revved the engine.  “It can’t be that hard, right?”
“Maybe I should—“ Hayden tried to stop her but she rocketed off.  She tore down street, and Hayden was beginning to get scared as she took the turns too fast.  But he could hear her laughing, and that was good enough for him.

When Hayden tapped on her shoulder and pointed to a nearby tree she pulled over.  It was a giant willow tree, with its vines hanging low to the ground.  Zia cut the motor, and they each climbed off; but as she did it, was the same as when she tried to get off of Cindy, and she fell over.
Hayden caught her easily, and hoisted her to her feet.  “You’re pretty good for not having any experience.”
“Thanks,” Zia regained her balance, but Hayden never let go of her arms.  “I get that a lot.”
“I know,” he smiled, “you were always the best novice.”
“Thanks…I think.  Why’d you want to stop here?”
“I was pretty sure we might die if I let you go any further,” Hayden admitted, and brushed his fingers down her arms until they wrapped around her hands.  He pulled her into the vines, and when they made it to the other side it was as if they had entered another world; one just for them.  She pulled off her helmet, and pushed up the goggles.  Hayden unbuckled his own helmet and tossed it casually on the ground.
“I had complete control,” Zia argued, grateful for this distraction.  If she had continued to think any more about Achaicious, or her mother, she would have lost her mind.  “You know I never thought I would have gotten this far so fast.”
“Neither did I,” Hayden admitted, referring to something else entirely.  “I’m a little jealous.”
“You better be,” Zia snorted, “that makes working with Aeryn so much better.”
“Yeah, I meant I’m jealous of Aeryn,” Hayden leaned against the willow tree, hands now in his pockets.  Shyly, he looked up at her, a half smile on his lips.  Zia swallowed, remembering what he had said to her.
He held his hand out to her, and she took it.  Hayden pulled her towards him, one hand snaking around her waist, his other leaving her hand and going into her hair as he pushed the goggles off of her.  She did the same, and ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed against him.  They breathed each other in, and Zia could feel her heart beating against her ribcage.  It was as if a million fireworks had gone off inside of her mind when their lips connected, like nothing she had ever felt before.
She leaned onto her toes, getting closer to Hayden.  When their lips parted she found she was thinking it was too soon.
“Better than Cal?” Hayden smiled, giving her another light kiss as he spun her around so her back was against the tree.
Zia smiled back.  “Way better.”

When Zia realized that it was well past the usually time her mother got home, she figured it was time to leave.  Hayden gave her a ride back to her house, and she waved goodbye to him on the sidewalk, still a little giddy.  But as she turned to her house, reality set in.
Slowly, she moved to the front door, wondering how hard it was going to be to hide the fact that she had discovered Donataen’s killers.  The door opened, and suddenly her mother was hugging her, tighter than Zia could ever remember.
“Mom?” Zia asked.  “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I am,” she sobbed, “I’m perfect!”
Zia hugged her back, but Win quickly let go.  Her cheeks were flushed, and she had clearly been crying, and she said, “I’m not sick!”
“What?” Zia wasn’t sure she had heard her properly.

Win brought her daughter inside, and explained as best she could about what had happened.  Cash was there as well, while Iscah had gone home.  They told their daughter that her sickness had cleared up; the sickness that cursed the humans of New Havilan had been cured from her blood.  Zia looked shocked, but she quickly grabbed Win into a hug.
Zia insisted that they go out for dinner that night, and they did.  It was almost enough to take Win’s mind off of the truth, but she found whenever she looked at Zia something seemed off.  Her daughter was having difficulty making eye contact, and she seemed to be lost in thought at some moments.
But whatever was wrong could wait.

Iscah wasn’t picking up her phone, which normally would have worried Zia, but she chose to think it wasn’t anything.  She was probably still embarrassed about what had happened, and was hiding in her room.  If anything, she would come over in a couple of days; which was hopefully when Zia would have ranked up as a Ventori.
So she sat in her room, still excited over the fact that her mother had been cured, and over what had happened with Hayden.  Things were turning around until Mal appeared in her room, dust falling to the carpet.
Zia jumped up from her bed and raised her hand to hit Mal again but stopped when he flinched.  His eyes had been shut tight, and he opened one to peek at her under his bangs.  He said, “I apologize for following you again, but I thought you might want to know what I have discovered.”
“Discovered?” Zia questioned, hoping it didn’t have to do with her hitting Delmont.  What if Aeryn couldn’t get an order?
“It is about the Realm Walker that has been following you,” he said, coming forward a step, “she is not who she claims to be.”
“You know about her?” Zia whispered, wondering how close her parents may be to her room.  But there was silence in the house, a comfortable silence.  “Why didn’t you say anything.”  She smacked him on the arm and he held the spot, not moving.
“I saw in the car,” Mal went on, “you should know that she is Achaicious’ sister, that he had banished many years ago in their homeland.”
“Really?”

“Yes,” Mal pulled his lips towards his teeth, “I just thought you should know.  Goodnight, I will not bother you again here.”
He put up his shield, and watched as Zia cursed his name.  She waved her arms around in the air, trying to find him as if that would work.  He smiled, until remembering her under the willow tree with that other Ventori.  His hands turned to fists at his sides, and he left her on her own.
He decided not to say what he knew of her mother, that he could see the mark of the companions on her skin. Outside, he looked over his shoulder at her house, and knew that he had accomplished his goal of convincing her that not all Specters were bad; which meant he could leave now, especially with Aeryn around.
But the thought of not seeing her again made him sad, and angry.  Why was that?



Chapter 24:
Zia dreamed of everything that night; she dreamed of catching Achaicious, and Delmont.  She dreamed of her brother, her mom, and even Iscah; but in her dreams Iscah wasn’t herself…she looked the same but Zia could sense she was different.  She also dreamed of Hayden, but every time she saw him, Mal would interrupt.  Zia tossed and turned in her bed, until she heard birds chirping outside her window, and decided it was time to get up.  Today was the day she would bring Achaicious into Ventori Ark.
But before that, she ran down into the kitchen, feet stomping on the stairs.  She called out, “Mom?”
“I’m right here,” Win said back, turning the page of the North Quarter Gazette in her hands, “good morning.”
“Morning!” Zia dashed over and gave her mother a hug, still unable to believe she was okay.  It was a miracle, and that was it.  But Zia couldn’t help but wonder what this strange feeling was in the back of her mind when she was near her mom; it had never been there before.  She brushed it off as nothing, only her own insecurities.  Zia put on the coffee maker and noticed her father’s briefcase wasn’t where it normally was.  She asked, “Did dad leave already?”
“Yes,” Win nodded, a small smile still on her lips, “he had to get into work early, something about some missing cold case files he had to find.”
“Cold case files?” Zia froze, and thought of Donataen.  Did Win or Cash know that those missing files could be Donataen’s case?  That someone was looking into how he had died?  Trying to appear calm, she sat down at the table.
“Apparently some files went missing last night,” Win turned another page and took a sip of tea, “they think it was just an interns mistake.  Oh dear, it wasn’t you was it?”
“No, why would it be me?” Zia questioned until she remembered that she had told them she had a job working at the Ark, in records.  But she breathed a sigh of relief that it had nothing to do with Donataen…or did it?  “Do you know what files went missing?”
“I think your father went to figure that out,” Win said, and Zia left it alone.  If Aeryn didn’t contact her soon, she would go find out herself, anyway.  Waiting around the house would be too agonizing, even with her mother there.
While Zia waited for her coffee, she started to think about her dreams, or more specifically, Mal.  “Hey, mom, can I ask you something about Donataen?”
That caught Win’s full attention, and she set the newspaper flat against the table.  She said, “Of course.”
“I was just wondering…” Zia paused, “did he ever tell you he was dating someone?  I mean, I don’t remember him ever dating, and I know that’s not something you tell your little sister, but we spent a lot of time together.”
Win laughed, light and healthy.  It made Zia smile.  “Donataen was a lot like you, actually.  He dated plenty of girls.”
“Hey, I don’t date ‘plenty’ of guys,” Zia argued, but she knew the truth.
“Oh calm down, you’re young, it’s allowed,” Win swatted at her daughters hand lightly, “but Donataen spent a lot of time with you, showing you…Tracking, and he preferred it that way.”
“There was never one he was serious about though?”
Win thought a moment.  “Not that I can recall, but he was out of the house a lot; he was in his twenties, he didn’t talk to his mother much about dating either.”
“He liked Specters, didn’t he,” Zia said, more to herself than anyone.  Her eyelids fell towards the table, and she clutched her hands between each other.  “He didn’t think they’re bad, at all.”
“Not all of them,” Win put her hands over Zia’s.  “He understood that some were good, and some were evil.  That’s just how life is.  Why are you asking all of a sudden?”
Zia thought of how Mal had been helping her, and even though she didn’t like his methods, he had been useful.  Not only that, he had gone out of his way more than once to protect her.
“I was just thinking,” Zia confessed, “I always thought they were bad.  They’re made of darkness, how can they be good?  We’re light, and their darkness, so…but then I keep meeting them, and one of them isn’t so bad.  He’s actually really good, and I don’t get it!”
“Zia,” Win pulled her hands closer to herself, “in your life you’re going to meet a lot of people; humans, clan members, and Specters.  You’ll meet the good, the bad, and at times it will be hard to tell the difference, but I know you, you’ll get through it.”
“I’m sorry for being so stupid,” Zia pulled her lips towards her teeth, “for being so…mean.”
Win just smiled, and released her daughter’s hands.  “I knew you would overcome this.”
But Zia knew that in the near future there was a lot more she would have to overcome.  There was a comfortable quiet between them as Win went back to reading the newspaper, and Zia just took in the moment.  There would be so many more like this.
But as her eyes drifted down to the paper, she noticed something.  She asked, “The Accords are being signed today?  I thought that was next week.”
“Hmm?” Win turned the paper over to see the article Zia was referring to.  “Oh, yes, they changed it because of the protesters I think.  It’s only one part being signed, to allow Specters easier access across the borders.”
“What’s wrong with how they do it now?” Zia asked, but she knew how hard it was for a Specter to cross the border.  They had to go into severe questioning, and they were the only ones that had to do it.  Clan members were given access to everything, and humans just slid along by them.
“I think Iscah and her father were going to it,” Win checked the clock on the far wall, “maybe it would be good for you to go too, show your support?”
Zia was about to reject the idea, since she didn’t care to let Specters have easier access to the humans; since a lot of Specters fed off of humans after all.  But then she remembered just how many humans were against the Accords, and knew there might be trouble.  Trouble that Iscah was in the middle of.
“I think I will,” Zia agreed, and hurried off to get dressed.

City Ark was surrounded by people, most of them protesters; some were even protesting the protest!  A few of them seemed human, and Zia scanned the crowd for Iscah or her father.  Zia still carried the two daggers in her jacket, and she wondered if people were being checked for weapons before being allowed inside the Ark.  She could also see a few Ventori standing on the sidelines, but she couldn’t tell if they showed support or just came to watch.
“Here,” a man approached Zia and handed her a sign.  She took it without thinking, then saw it was for the protest, “we can’t let these things have rights!”
He walked off and joined the picket line in front of the Ark.  Zia turned the sign in her hand, feeling its heavy weight and thinking about how he had sounded.  He sounded cruel, was that how she sounded to others?  One last look at the sign, and reading its words, she tossed it to the ground without a care.  She vowed to not sound like that anymore.
A few steps towards the crowds, and she spotted Iscah’s strawberry-blonde hair a few feet away.  Pushing her way past, she made her way to the edge of the crowd and grabbed onto her friends arm.  Iscah almost shrieked, but stopped when she saw who was touching her.
“Hey,” Zia said, and they moved further away from the people, “where’s your dad?”
“Zia?” Iscah replied.  “Oh, he’s inside!  He was chosen to view the signing!  Isn’t that cool?”
“Yeah,” Zia shrugged.  Why would someone want Iscah’s father to view the signing?  He wasn’t anyone important.  “How come you guys are here, anyway?  There might be a riot.”
Iscah laughed nervously, “You know us, support everyone.”  She avoided eye contact, and shoved her hands into her pockets.
“Iscah, are you—“ Zia began but a scream cut her off.  The crowd roared, and suddenly everyone was pushing to get to the front.  Zia acted quickly, and started moving Iscah to the far reaches of the crowd but it was too late; they were swept into the riot.
The Light Guard and the Human Guard stepped in as the crowd rushed for the Ark.  How it had started, Zia didn’t know, but she knew it wasn’t going to end with many people standing.  An elbow hit her in the ribs, and holding onto Iscah’s arm she managed to get to the edge of it all.  She pushed her friend into a nearby alley, and pulled out the cobalt dagger.
“Here,” Zia said, trying to pass the weapon to Iscah.  She didn’t take it, and only held up her hands.  “Take it!  Use it if anyone gets close or tries to grab you!”
“No, I don’t think I could,” Iscah tried to argue, but Zia shoved it into her hands.  She hissed, and her skin sizzled, the blade dropping to the ground.  Zia’s brows raised, and her mouth gaped; the cobalt had just burned Iscah.
“Issy?” Zia said, looking at the red, swollen flesh on her friends hand.  “What…?”  She couldn’t even form a sentence.
“Sorry,” Iscah’s eyes were already welling with tears, and she vanished into the air.
“Iscah!” Zia screamed, wanting an explanation but getting none.  All she had was a ring of pale blue dust at her feet, and the screaming of people behind her.  She was still staring at the dust and the dagger when someone yanked onto her shoulder.
“Here’s one of them!” a man screamed and Zia was dragged into the alley.  Two more people followed them in, and Zia was still stunned by the fact that Iscah had been burned.  But she came to her senses when the stranger shoved her away from him, and she hit a wall.  “Filthy things.”
“What in Light are you doing?” Zia shouted as she spun around.  The men, both middle aged, and a younger woman moved towards her.  The woman held a sign in her hand, while one man had nothing; the third grabbed a pipe from the ground.
“You things are monsters,” the woman said, voice shaky, “you hunted us for a millennia, and now you want to live with us?”
“I’m not a Specter, you morons!” Zia said, trying to convince them seemed useless though.  “I’m Ventori!”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied.  The one with the pipe had had enough, and rushed at her.  It raised into the air and as it came down on her she blocked it with her left forearm.  There was a sickening crack, and she crumbled to the ground.
Normally a hit like that wouldn’t hurt her much, but having such an aimed blow with a metal pipe at least cracked her bones.  As she reached into her boot for her chain, she realized that it wouldn’t do much good against humans.
“You should learn your place, Specter,” the man laughed, and handed the pipe to the woman.  His hands moved to his belt, and he started to unbuckle it.  Holding onto her arm, she wondered just how stupid this man, and the others were; did they really think they could do anything to her in the middle of a riot?  She made it to her feet, and cursed at them.
“I am Ventori,” she yelled out, “I will be the one to show you your place.”  Though her arm was wounded, she held her hand towards her boot and her cobalt chain moved to her will; a little trick Donataen had taught her.  Her arm ached, and she knew it wouldn’t fully heal for at least two days, but that didn’t matter now.  That made them pause.
A whistle blew from the end of the alley, and the attackers turned to see an armoured guard heading for them; followed by two more.  It was the Light Guard, and by the looks on their faces they knew what was going on.
“Attacking a clan member is the highest of offences,” the center guard said.  “Come peaceably or face worse consequences in the catacombs.”
Zia saw his eyes go to the man’s hands on his belt, and he glowered at him.  The man flinched, but the three went along easily.  Zia sneered at them, adrenaline still preparing her for a fight.  But she knew they would not get off easily for what they had tried to do.
As the female guard grabbed the second man, she eyed Zia’s chain, wrapped neatly around her injured arm.  She smirked and said, “Nice cobalt.”
“Thanks,” Zia smirked back.  The guard handed the man to one of her comrades, and stopped to face Zia.  Her armour was glowing, even in the shade of the buildings, its sleek silver radiating.  Zia remembered when she was eight she had wanted to join the Light Guard, to become a Light Knight and protect humans.  That seemed like the worst idea now and her mother’s words echoed in her head, “You’ll meet the good, the bad, and sometimes it will be hard to tell the difference.”  It didn’t seem very hard now.
“You’re young for Ventori,” the guard said, “are you an initiate?”
Zia nodded, her fingers loose on her chain.
“You handle yourself well,” the guard slid her eyes to the mouth of the alley, “did calling for help not occur to you?”
Zia shrugged, and noticed a dull ache in her left shoulder.  “Not my thing.”
“What’s your name?” her armour clinked as she crossed her arms.  It didn’t look to be an easy movement.
“Kehzia Noble,” she stated, “of the clan Medea.”
“Good to meet you Kehzia Noble,” the guard smiled and walked off to continue her arrests of the rioters, “I’m Nari, of the clan Raijin.  You dropped your dagger.”
Nari held her covered hand out to the corner where the dagger lay.  It jumped into her hand, and she tossed it towards Zia, who caught it in her right.  She placed it back into her jacket, and let her chain fall back into her boot; she had never seen someone do that same trick with cobalt before.  Not since Donataen.
Nari’s walk started into a run as soon as she was out of the alley, leaving Zia was stunned yet again.  She had just met Nari the Unseen, a member of the Light Guard, and another Ventori whose rank was so high, they earned a title.
Another whistle blew, and Zia decided it was time to get out of there.  Iscah was safe, probably, and apparently a Specter.  Her father was safe inside the Ark, and the Light and Human Guard seemed to be taking control of the situation out front.  So Zia slipped from the alley and started home, ensuring nobody was following her.  It was only then that she saw what a monster she had truly looked like.

Zia bandaged her arm when she got home after making sure to tell her mother that Iscah was safe and the riot was under control.  She didn’t mention what had happened in the alley, or how she had gotten hurt, or what that human had wanted to do.  She couldn’t even find the words for it.
But her arm was healing now, and she kept the white cloth hidden beneath a long sleeve shirt.  It had been a while since she had gotten hurt like that, even the Black Angel hadn’t done as much damage.
Sitting on her bed, she considered if she should go out and find Aeryn.  But with what happened at City Ark, she doubted he had gotten an order yet for Achaicious and Delmont.  Which only left her to think about Iscah.  Her best friend was a Specter.
She didn’t know how to feel about that.



Chapter 25:
Click, click, click.  Her bright red nails tapped against the desk, a scowl creeping across her features.  Things were starting to get messy, and she didn’t like messy.  It was bad enough the damned humans had started a riot out front of City Ark, now she had to deal with this new menace.  It should have been handled by Achaicious and his dog of an assistant.
The papers breezed across the sleek desk as she tossed them aside, thoughtful as to what her next move would be.  Her Lord wouldn’t like this, these Ventori getting in the way and having to be killed.  But they were necessary deaths, all for the greater cause.  Ventori were determined people, and they didn’t just let go of things like the humans did; most of them would have to be killed when His plan was complete.
Click, click, click.  She picked up the papers again, going over the report.  An order was issued for Achaicious, and she knew she couldn’t let him go into the catacombs; he was far too powerful an ally…for now.  Of course he would be killed later.  But for now, she had to get rid of this order.
But how?  The fool had clearly slipped up, allowing Rinehart to get his hands on such important documents.  At least she wasn’t mentioned in them, they stated about his illegal dealings, and his arrangements with various Specters across New Havilan.  Her lips pursed in the darkness, and she decided she would let Rinehart bring Achaicious in for selling illegal spells.  It would be much easier to get him relieved of his charges in the catacombs rather than before he was even caught.
She picked up the phone and called him.  She said, “Let them take you to the Ark.  Send your dog to do as he pleases; he’s caused us enough grief.”  The phone clicked off before he had a chance to reply.
Her hand reached over her desk and grabbed onto a stamp, and she smashed it against the order.  After all, if she didn’t approve it and mark him as STRAY, everything could link back to her.
His plan was still in motion, and the Ventori hadn’t caught on yet.  And if Rinehart the Unbreakable couldn’t see the bigger picture, then she was certain this half-human Noble wouldn’t either.  And if she did?  Well, she would just truly follow in her brothers footsteps.

The pain in her hand was unbearable, and she never though she would have to deal with this so soon.  Iscah was in her bathroom, completely terrified of even moving an inch after the cobalt had touched her.  She had no idea such a pain could exist.
But that wasn’t the worst of it; the worst was seeing Zia’s face, that look that told Iscah she had betrayed her friend.  Iscah began to run her hand under the water rushing into the bathroom sink.  As it touched her skin it only gave her more pain, but it was washing away the little blue residue that was on her.
Tears streamed from her eyes, and she wondered if running had been the right choice.  No, not running, vanishing.  She had put up a shield right in front of Zia, and then she ran.  She didn’t even look back to see what had happened; hopefully Zia was okay, and got away from the riot unharmed.
But hopes and wishes weren’t enough of an apology, Iscah thought.  Everything she had was starting to crumble around her, her lifelong secret out for everyone to see.  Win had accepted it, and Cash already knew…but it was only a matter of time before their neighbours found out, right?  Iscah had seen the beginning of the riot, the signs the humans held up, and how hated she was in the North Quarter.  She didn’t want to move down to the South, but maybe she wasn’t going to have a choice soon.
A sob escaped her mouth, and she fell to the tiles beneath her, holding onto her soaking wet hand.  She buried her face into her knees, the water still running in the sink, and more was dripping onto her clothes.  She had saved Win by making her a companion, but all Iscah could think was, “I’m a monster.  I’m just a monster.”

Zia had managed to put everything together after a while.  How Iscah had burned her hand on the cobalt, and then disappeared into blue dust.  How her mother had been miraculously cured after Iscah mentioned her becoming a companion, and how Iscah hadn’t looked her in the eyes for two days now.   Iscah had made her mother her companion; she had saved Win’s life.
Aeryn had yet to contact Zia, and she was getting tired of waiting around so she decided to do something good.  She walked over to Iscah’s house, listening to other pedestrians talk about the riot.  It was over now, almost everyone taken into custody by the Human Guard.
Iscah’s house was quiet, but the front door had been left unlocked and Zia stepped inside.  She could hear water running down the hallway, towards the bathroom and she followed the noise.  When she turned the corner, she found Iscah crumpled into a ball on the floor, weeping.
Zia rushed to her friend, and fell to the floor beside her, holding her.  Iscah flinched, and stopped crying.  She sniffled, “Zia?”
“Yeah,” she replied.  Her face was against Iscah’s hair, taking in the scent of strawberry and apple.  Though her arm hurt, Zia hugged her tighter when she tried to crawl away.  “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Iscah asked.   “For what?”
“For not noticing,” she admitted, “and for always calling you a thing.  Or a monster.  I had no idea…”
“You’re not the one that hid it,” Zia felt Iscah shake her head, “I’m the one who—“ her voice broke off into a sob.
“Come on,” Zia said, “let’s wrap up your hand.”

Half an hour later they had put proper ointments onto Iscah’s hand, and it was now bandaged in a bright white cloth.  They sat on the floor in her room, decorated with pink and frills, and Zia tried to think of what to say.  She was tempted to ask about her mother, to confirm her suspicions but she couldn’t find the courage.  It was very unlike her, she thought, to not be brave enough to do something.  She didn’t like how it felt in her center, and shook her head.  She asked, “So…why do you live in the North Quarter?”
Iscah curled her legs closer to her body, one hand encircling her steaming cup of hot chocolate balanced on her knee.  She took a small sip, and replied, “Because we have to.”
Zia felt like the space between them was too much, and worried that Iscah might notice it.  So she moved closer, and Iscah moved back.  “You have to?”
“My dad said that when I was born…that he could tell that I was too strong,” her lips quivered as she spoke, “and he didn’t want me to grow up with other Specters.  So we ended up moving here from Castaliana, and he taught me how to hide my…power.”
Zia nodded.  “You left pale blue dust,” she concluded, “even Mal isn’t that strong.”
“Mal?” Iscah questioned.  “You mean Malachi Fel?”
“Yeah,” Zia crossed her arms.  “I guess that means you’re even stronger than him.”
“I guess.”  Iscah took another drink.  “You’ve really changed, haven’t you?  You actually called a Specter by their name.  Malachi Fel no less.”
“I just…had my eyes opened,” Zia couldn’t help but look down at her left arm, feel the dull throbbing resonate through her bones.  “It took a while…but I realized how childish I was being.”
“What made you change your mind?” Iscah sniffled, and actually moved over towards Zia.
The Ventori looked around her friend’s room a moment, taking in the warm sunlight that streamed through the window, the stuffed animals that she had won for Iscah at different fairs.  Finally she said, “Donataen.”  And silently she added, and Mal.
Iscah rested her head on Zia’s shoulder, and she mimicked the movement.  As stressful as the day had been so far, she knew there was still more to come.
“Guess who I met today,” Zia said, changing to a lighter tone.
“Who?”
“Nari the Unseen,” she remembered the shining armour, “she was at the riot.  I saw her arrest some people.  She even asked my name.”
“Really?” Iscah managed a laugh.  “You’re just meeting all the legends aren’t you?  I bet that would make Hayden really jealous!”
Zia’s chest vibrated as she laughed, and suddenly Iscah shot upwards.  “What was that?”
“A laugh?” Zia furrowed her brow.
“No, your heart skipped a beat,” Iscah pointed at her, “oh my God, you like Hayden!  I knew it!”
“Shut up!” Zia ordered.  “According to you I’ve always liked him!  It doesn’t mean anything that we kissed!”
Iscah’s eyes grew wide, and she set her cup down, not even caring that the chocolate spilled over onto her floor.  She squealed, “You kissed!”
Zia could feel her face turning red, thoughts of the willow tree invading her consciousness.  Hopefully Aeryn would find her soon, and they would head down to Wraith.
“So are you dating now?” Iscah didn’t let the subject change.  “How did it happen?”
Zia didn’t want to say that it had originally started at the party, while Iscah had been taken advantage of downstairs when she was upstairs kissing Hayden.  So instead she told her about the “date” she had been on, when she and Hayden just drove around on his motorcycle.  Iscah seemed better with this, and they were both avoiding talking about Win.
“I knew you guys would end up together, eventually,” Iscah smiled.
“End up together?” Zia repeated.  “We just kissed, we aren’t together.  That’s not what I’m worried about right now anyway…okay, it’s not on the top of the list.”
“What’s on the top?” Iscah furrowed her brow.
“You don’t need to be concerned with it,” Zia just shook her head.  There was a piece of her that wanted Iscah to know, but she didn’t want to blurt everything out like she had to Hayden.  So that was who she steered the conversation back to, even though she didn’t like it much.

Aeryn had the order for Achaicious by nightfall, and that order included Delmont.  But he wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to go and get either of them while the moon was out, and he considered keeping the order to himself until the next morning.  But there were other Ventori that would like to bring in those two, and Aeryn didn’t have much time before they all found out.
He made his way to Kehzia’s house, and she opened her front door immediately.
“Did you get it?” she asked, her voice quiet.  She looked excited, and happy.  It was strange, considering the circumstances, Aeryn thought.  After everything she had discovered this week…happiness was the last emotion he thought she would have.  Feeling protective, he wondered if Hayden Rider had anything to do with that happiness.
“I did,” Aeryn said, “and we’re bringing company.”
Mal appeared behind him, and the two nodded at each other.  At that point Aeryn knew that she was over her hatred, or at least working through it well.



Chapter 26:
The wind rushed through her as she stood with Mal and Aeryn out front of Wraith.  Looking up at its dark exterior she wondered how well the next moments would go.  Would Achaicious come willingly?  Would Delmont change?  Were any of them going to die tonight?
“I’ll go around back, block off the exits,” Aeryn announced, taking Zia from her thoughts, “Mal, you go set up your spells; make sure nobody’s getting out unless we allow it.”
“Yes,” Mal disappeared, and Aeryn started moving.
“What about me?” Zia called after him, not being a fan of waiting.  She had waited around far too often when she went out with Donataen, she wasn’t going to do it anymore.
“Wait for my signal,” he said over his shoulder, “and we’ll go in together.”
Aeryn vanished into the shadows, just like Mal had, leaving Zia to stand on her own out front.  Knowing she was vulnerable in the open, she moved towards the trees on the edge of the grass; they weren’t much, but they were enough cover should anyone look outside from Wraith.
Her heart was pumping hard in her chest, and the cool air of the night wasn’t helping her stay calm.  Scenarios began to run through her head, and she knew there wasn’t any point in trying to guess what would happen; Specter’s were too unpredictable.  But she had Aeryn there, Rinehart the Unbreakable, and that was some comfort.  Zia wondered if she should have tried to find the Realm Walker as well…but if she was Achaicious’ sister, why would she help?
Growing more impatient, Zia summoned her cobalt chain into her left hand, despite her injury.  Maybe she should have at least mentioned that to Aeryn?  No, she thought, I can handle it.
“You should know,” a silky voice came from Zia’s left, and she jumped backwards, revealing herself to the world, “that Delmont won’t do much good without his necklace.”
The Realm Walker, Machatta had rounded a tree nearby, and she stared down Zia with the same eyes as Achaicious; cold and calculating.  Zia asked, “What?”
“Achaicious gave him a necklace,” Machatta explained with a roll of her eyes, “it gives him extra strength.  Cut it off, and he’ll be just like any other werewolf.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” Zia heard a click, and her eyes shifted towards Wraith.
Just before Machatta disappeared, Delmont came from the club, and she said, “Because he’s coming for your blood.”
Ash surrounded Zia now that the Realm Walker had left, and Delmont’s eyes were already upon her.  His upper lip curled into a snarl, but it seemed more of a superior snort.  Zia gripped her chain, and followed Delmont’s eyes to the sky.
Clouds cleared, and the moon came shining through.  A laugh rumbled through Delmont, and he rolled his shoulders.  Zia looked around, but found no sign of Aeryn or Mal; she was on her own.
“I bet you’ll taste sweeter than your brother,” Delmont roared at her, “I’ll be sure to take my time killing you!”
Her eyes narrowed at him, and it wasn’t the reaction he probably hoped for.  She stepped forward, no longer caring if she was in the open; he was a werewolf, he had the advantage wherever they stood.
“I’m going to bring you into the Ark,” Zia shouted back, “and watch that little light in your eyes fade when you realize what awaits you in the catacombs!”
Delmont snarled again, and threw off his jacket.  His change was beginning, and Zia didn’t have long.  She saw the small circular pendant around his neck, and decided she would try and stop him before he could finish his change.
Zia rushed at him, but there was too much distance between them.  Delmont’s clothes ripped off as his limbs grew larger, his muscles convulsing into something bigger.  His mouth and nose turned into a snout, hair coming through thick and brown; his ears curled back, and his eyes glowed yellow.  By the time Zia got to where he stood, he was already gone, his legs kicked him upwards.  She cursed at herself for not trying to attack sooner.
Zia spun around, trying to find where he had jumped to, trying to find a noise to track him.  But there was silence all around her, and she screamed, “Coward!”
A growl came from behind her, and she turned towards the club in time to see Delmont falling towards her from the roof.  She started running towards the trees, in hopes of some cover, as his claws narrowly missed her neck.  She made it to the tree line when something hooked her jacket, and pulled her back under the streetlights.
Delmont threw her onto the road, and she landed on her left arm.  The pain resonated through it, and she felt her chain digging into her skin.  Behind her, claws clicked on the concrete, telling her of his approach.  Rolling onto her back she whipped the chain at him, and managed to strike him on the eye.
His jaw opened and let out a scream, or at least the closest thing a werewolf could do to a scream.  His eye was smoking, and he stumbled backwards as her chain retracted safely to her hand.  While he was temporarily weakened, Zia realized she didn’t know what to do.  Aeryn had the reduc-chains, not that they would fit on Delmont, and all she could do was kill him.  But she didn’t want to kill him; she wanted him to suffer in the catacombs.
To start off, she decided she would get rid of his necklace.  She jumped to her feet and ran at him again while his claws still covered one eye.  Swiftly, she pulled out her dagger, her cobalt dagger, and slid it under the string that held the pendant as she dodged his arms.  And in a moment the necklace was cut from him.  Her feet landed on the ground behind him, necklace vanishing into the nearby grass.
He roared again, falling onto the pavement.  His body began to shrink, no longer the gargantuan werewolf; he looked average now, more human.  His arms no longer reached the ground if he stood straight, and his muscles were much smaller.  Though even for a werewolf he was rather large.
Delmont turned his head and looked at Zia, sending his message clearly.  He was telling her she hadn’t won yet, but she knew that.
“You can come peaceably,” she told him, breathing heavy as the adrenaline still pumped through her body, “or you can die.  Understand that I’m being merciful here, after what you did to my family.”  She pointed her dagger at him, trying to drive the point through.
“Merciful?” a laugh erupted from her left.  She turned towards the club to find another man there, already taking off his jacket.  “The catacombs don’t have mercy, Ventori, and neither does the pack.”
“Pack?” Zia breathed.  She looked quickly to Delmont, and saw he had a small smile on his snout.  “You have a pack?”
She hadn’t considered that.  Werewolves rarely ran alone, but Delmont was always with Achaicious, Zia had assumed he didn’t have a pack.  Wasn’t that something Aeryn or Mal should have mentioned?
“I should tell you now,” the man said, his eyes already starting to glow with the change, “I love to play with my food.”
And just as quickly as Delmont had, he changed.  He was much smaller than Achaicious’ assistant, but he was quicker as he dashed towards Zia.  She didn’t have time to think about her next move, and she started for the trees again.  Her feet jumped onto the bench, and launched her over it.  The werewolf contacted with it as well, his claws scraping across the wood; she glanced over her shoulder at him, and he growled.
Dagger in one hand, chain in another, Zia zigzagged through the trees in hopes of losing him.  But he was fast, and just as she tried to round a tree he tackled her to the dirt, her dagger flying off into the shadows.  His breath was hot against the back of her neck, and she felt his claws scraping against her jacket, cutting through to her skin.  He licked the back of her neck, his tongue sliding down the back of her shirt as he tasted her.  She let out a stifled scream as she tried to raise her injured arm to hit him, but the chain didn’t even touch him.  She grunted as he tore into her skin, when he suddenly let out a whimper.
His weight was gone, and she quickly rolled over to see who had saved her, but she only found Delmont.  His hand was sticking into the back of his former pack member, blood gushing over his arm.  Calmly, Delmont set his free hand onto the man’s shoulder, and ripped his other hand from the back, along with a heart.  The unnamed werewolf that had so quickly come to his rescue fell to the ground, dead.  Delmont lazily tossed the heart there as well.
Zia knew why he did it; she was supposed to be his kill.  His eyes fell on her, on the ground, back bleeding through her jacket even though the scratches weren’t deep.
Taking her chance while he watched her in silence, she swung the chain and let it wrap around his ankles.  She yanked on it, and brought him down to her level.  He howled as it burned him, and she slowly stood on steady legs.  She said, “It’s kill or be killed, is that it?  That’s how you want it?”
He snapped his jaws at her, and fumbled as he tried to break through the chains.  But without the help of Achaicious, there was no way that was going to happen.  Taking her time, Zia marched over to where her dagger had fallen and picked it up.  She moved back to the screeching werewolf, his claws covered in blood, his comrade still bleeding out onto the grass.
“This was your choice,” she told him.  Her dagger raised into the air, she brought it down to his shoulder and another howl came from him.  Zia didn’t care if Aeryn or Mal heard it, or if they were trying to rush to her aid.  Skin and fur sizzling, Delmont grew still as the dagger weakened him further.
Zia grabbed a nearby branch, it was heavy in her hands, and thick enough to get the job done.  Just like the dagger, she held it over her head before bringing it down onto Delmont.  Two more hits later, and he was unconscious, or dead.  Either way, he wasn’t moving.
“Kehzia!” Aeryn cried as he ran through the trees.  When he came upon the scene he froze, his eyes moving from Zia as she dropped the large branch, to the two werewolves at her feet.  He asked, “What happened?”
“Delmont,” Zia pointed at one werewolf, “his random friend.”  She pointed at the other.  “Delmont killed him, I knocked out Delmont.”
Her breathing was beginning to even out, and slowly Aeryn walked over to her.  She couldn’t feel anything in her arm or on her back, and she was grateful for it.  But Aeryn didn’t seem as pleased.  He knelt by Delmont and ripped the dagger from his shoulder.
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a pair of reduc-chains, and wrapped them around the werewolf’s wrists.  In a fluid motion, Delmont changed back into his human form, and Zia could see him breathing as his chest moved up and down.  Part of her was relieved that he was alive, and he was going to be properly punished for her brother’s murder.
“Next?” Zia questioned, wanting to get to Achaicious.

“Yeah,” Aeryn said, “Mal’s out front, go meet with him and I’ll take care of this.”
Zia must have taken a hit to the head, because she wavered a moment on her feet before obeying.  There was no snarky response, and she didn’t question what he was going to do.  She didn’t even ask for her dagger back.  When she was safely out of sight, Aeryn looked down at the werewolf.
Delmont’s eyes had begun to open, and Aeryn wanted to make sure he saw his death coming.
“She might be merciful,” Aeryn whispered in the dark, “but I am not.  This is for Donataen, and Cindel.”
His eyes were watering as he plunged the dagger into Delmont’s heart.  After two years of searching, after two years of suffering over his mistake…this moment gave him no pleasure.  Because in the end, it was his own fault that Donataen had been killed.  He knew he hadn’t avenged Donataen’s murder, not yet.  That would only come with his own death.

Zia was beginning to feel dizzy when she made it out of the trees, but she told herself it was just the left over adrenaline.  She spotted Mal standing near the bench, inspecting the long scrapes that covered it.  When he heard her footsteps, he looked up.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, meeting her halfway.
“Just a scratch,” Zia held her hand up to stop him as he reached for her.  His hands fell limply at his sides.
“Did my big bad assistant give you trouble?” Achaicious asked as he stepped out of the air.  Mal flinched, and raised his hand for a spell when the other Caster waved at him.  “Now, now, I don’t want any trouble.”
“We have an order for your arrest,” Zia said, surprised at how powerful she sounded, “come peaceably or face the consequences in the catacombs.”
Achaicious laughed, but it faded quickly.  He said, “I’m sorry about Mr. Delmont, when I heard of an order being put out on me I didn’t know what to do.  He thought he was helping when he attacked.  I tried to stop him, but you know how hardheaded werewolves can be.”
His black coat billowed around him, and Zia could taste metal on the wind.  Why was he being so civil?  Something, if not everything, wasn’t right.
“What are you doing?” Zia narrowed her eyes at him, and tried to read them.  But all she could see was arrogance, like he knew what was going to happen.  Like he was going to be walking the streets in no time at all.
“I’m giving myself in,” Achaicious held his hands towards her, “I do hope you’ll put that in the report.  They might go easier on me in the catacombs, then.”
Mal and Zia exchanged a glance, neither of them knowing what he was planning.



Chapter 27:
Achaicious drew the eyes of all the Ventori in the Ark, but so did Zia as she held one hand on his arm.  He was acting much too smug, and it worried her.  Shouldn’t he be more concerned with his punishment?  Yes, he was only going down for selling spells to STRAYs, but he nodded at people as a greeting, and he was smiling.  Zia didn’t think he should be allowed to smile.
“You’re going into the catacombs,” Zia said as they moved to the front of the line, “don’t look so happy.”
“Yes,” Achaicious slid his eyes towards her, “but they have to be better than any punishment served in Castaliana.”  He laughed.
Zia thought of Machatta, and how that must have been a shot at her.  But there was no way he could know she was here, was there?  Had Mal been right to warn her about the Realm Walker?

It was taking too long to process Achaicious, and Machatta didn’t like having to wait any longer than she had to.  But after what felt like a century, the Light Guard began to escort her brother down to the catacombs.  She followed after them, moving down a darkened hallway; not even she knew what awaited them down there.
The guards took a sudden turn, and started leading Achaicious up more stairs.  When they stopped, it was in front of a door, and a man exited.  He handed her brother a folder and said, “This is your new identity.  You’ll be moving to Tranon, and you are not to operate your own business.  The Lord wishes you to continue selling to STRAYs, and not keep records of it.”
“Tranon?” Achaicious spat.  His guards walked away, leaving him with the stranger.  The man’s eyes glowed in the darkness, a strange aura of green, but Machatta couldn’t tell what kind of Specter he was.
“Here,” the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, and Machatta knew it was time to act.  She dropped her shield and entered the realm, shoving the stranger backwards, ashes flying in every direction.  Achaicious didn’t have time to react when she grabbed onto his collar, and pulled him into her realm.  Her banished realm.
“Machatta?” he screamed.  “You cannot be here!  You’re not strong enough!”
“I’ve learned, dear brother,” she whispered, her eyes narrowing on him as she threw him to the ground, “and this is where you will stay.”
Achaicious looked scared, but as he stood his normal arrogance took over.  He yelled, “You cannot keep me here!  I will find a way out, I’ve always been stronger than you.  If you can become a Walker, I will surely do it just as easily.”
“Not with those, you won’t.”  Machatta nodded her head at the reduc-chains that bound his wrists.  “You will rot here.”
Achaicious ground his teeth together, and she prepared to leave.  When she did he would no longer be able to see the walls around him, it would be a haze of red and grey.  He would be lost forever, just like he had planned on doing to her.
“They will find me,” he stated simply, “they won’t leave me here.  If you have mercy on me, they may have some for you.”
“They know not what they are against, Achaicious,” Machatta turned to leave, when she faced him again.  Her arm stuck out, and a blade shot out of it, cutting into Achaicious’ neck.  Blood seeped from the wound, and spluttered from his mouth as he fell to the floor.  She turned again, and thought, Maybe I do have mercy.  Because some part of her didn’t want to leave her brother in such a wasteland.
As he made a noise behind her, she said, “I will take down the Ark if it’s the last thing I do.”

Zia could feel the scratches on her back beginning to heal, but they still needed to be properly bandaged.  She rolled her shoulders, trying to get a feel for how big they were but with the rest of her body aching it was hard.  They waited in line, the same line in which she had gotten her badge just a day earlier; Aeryn insisted.
“Can’t we do this in the morning?” Zia asked.  “Or like, mid-afternoon?”
“Nope,” Aeryn said.  “You want to rank up, we need to stand in line.  And then we need to report to Madsen.”
“Again?”
“Every STRAY.”
Zia cursed Madsen’s name under her breath.  But then again, if she hadn’t been such a racist, Zia never would have gotten to find her brother’s killer.  She never would have been able to get her rank so fast, or work with Aeryn.  Maybe she owed Madsen a thank you instead?
The line went quickly, and when they reached the front there was a woman sitting there.  She looked up at Zia, and then to Aeryn, and asked for her badge.  Zia passed it over, and in a few quick movements her little green line had an identical friend.  When she got it back, she stared at the lines, no longer an initiate.
“Thanks,” she said to the woman, and the Ventori left.
“You should go home,” Aeryn told her when they got outside.  “I’ll take care of the paperwork.  Just go get a bandage for your back.”
“Okay,” Zia replied, and she began to wobble home.  “You’ll contact me, right?”
“Yeah,” Aeryn nodded, “maybe in a couple of days.”
Zia waved behind her absentmindedly as Aeryn walked back into Ventori Ark.  She sighed, and wondered what she should do now.  All the goals she had set for herself had been achieved, and in record time, she thought.  She avenged her brother’s death, she got her Ventori badge and rank, and she was well on her way to getting into college.  So…what now?
Mal and Hayden immediately entered her mind.  The Caster had gone home after Aeryn told him to, a little forcefully.  He had done his part to ensure Achaicious couldn’t cast any spells, and Aeryn didn’t want him involved in the rest of the process.  Madsen would probably have had a fit if she found out Zia had been working with a Specter.
So that just left Hayden.  Before she knew what was happening, she was already walking to his house; it wasn’t like she could bandage her own back, after all.

Hayden opened his front door to find Zia standing there, covered in dirt and blood but actually managing a smile.  His mouth hung open, and he just moved the door over more to let her inside.  When she walked past him, he saw that her jacket had almost been shredded.
“Light,” he said, holding onto her arms, “what happened?”
“I just need some help covering the wounds,” she shrugged weakly, “got scratched.”
“By what?  A werewolf?” Hayden had meant it as a joke, but when she tilted her head he knew he had guessed right.  “You fought a werewolf?”
“In the South Quarter,” she started moving upstairs when he pulled her back down and started leading her into the bathroom.  “It’s like I’m psychic.”
He flicked the light on, and Zia shimmied out of her jacket.  Hayden saw the dirtied bandage on her arm, but since there was no blood on it he took that as a good sign.  But her top had a length of scratches just like her jacket, and she started to take it off as well.
“What are you doing?” Hayden stopped her, not that he really wanted to.
“Well I need to take it off,” she sounded exhausted, “if you’re gonna fix me up.”

Zia didn’t want to take her clothes off in front of Hayden, not yet at least.  But she couldn’t reach around to properly clean the wound, and she couldn’t ask her mother or father to do it.  Hayden held up a finger, and ran out the door.  Zia heard glass clinking, and some shuffling when he returned with two bottles of beer, a towel, and one of his shirts.
“I’ll clean the wounds,” Hayden said, passing her an open bottle, “then you can take a shower and put this on.”
He placed the rest of the supplies on the counter next to her, and she sat down on the edge of the bathtub, her feet sliding on the smooth ceramic.  She took a drink, even though she didn’t really like the taste, and swallowed sloppily.  Hayden’s hands were cold as he lifted the back of her shirt, and the alcohol stung as he dabbed it on her.
“Sorry,” he whispered as she winced.  She took another drink and said nothing.
“My mom’s not sick anymore,” Zia confessed, wanting to drown out the silence between them.  The alcohol was bitter on her tongue, and she questioned how anyone could like it.  But it was an easy, repetitive movement.
“I thought she had the sickness,” Hayden replied, “how did she…?”
“Secret,” Zia didn’t want to tell him that it was because Iscah had made Win her companion.  Hayden wouldn’t question it too much, anyway.  But she had just really wanted to tell someone.  She wondered if she would go to the hospital and tell Mel about what Casters could do.  Maybe Mal could help her…?  Mel and Mal?  She chuckled, and found the thought bothered her.  “And tonight I got Donataen’s killer.  Killers, I guess.  Although…I think there might be a third.”
“Why’s that?” he dabbed her again, and she managed to not wince.
“He went down too easy,” Zia went on, “like he knew he was gonna get out anyway.  I mean, I saw them take him down to the catacombs…but I don’t know what happened afterwards.  I just can’t help but think that…what if someone at the Ark was doing something wrong?”
Hayden chuckled.  “At the Ark?  Zia, you must have hit your head or something because nobody at the Ark is bad.  They’re the good guys.”
Zia swallowed half her beer, and thought, Maybe not.  After everything that had happened that week…Zia didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Half an hour later Zia climbed out of the shower, and Hayden put a white cloth over her back as soon as she was dressed.  She threw his old shirt on, and thanked him with a kiss.  When she opened her eyes to look up at him, she thought the alcohol was getting to her head and she said, “I really like you.”
“Good enough for me.”  Hayden gave her another kiss.
“Take me home?”
“Less good for me, but okay.”  Hayden and Zia left her bloodied and shredded clothes in the bathroom, and he took her to his car.  The drive home was a comfortable quiet, and Zia wondered what he was thinking about.  She thought it might have been Donataen.
Hayden walked her to her front door, and they shared one last kiss before he left.  As Zia shut the door, she leaned against it and sighed, everything still feeling like a dream…or a nightmare.  Actually, it was a mixture of both.
Her eyes closed as soon as her head touched the pillow, surrounded by Hayden’s scent, she sighed again.  It was easy for her to drift off to sleep, but she couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of her summer would involve.
She hoped most of it would involve catching more STRAYs that nobody even knew about.  Her eyes had been opened, and she felt like she could finally breathe.



Epilogue:
Nari the Unseen did what she did best; she hid.  It wasn’t noble for a Ventori to hide, or to use dirty tricks to accomplish their goals, but she had to now.  If she wanted to surprise Rinehart the Unbreakable, she didn’t have much choice.  So she waited for him to turn his key in the lock to his front door.
When he entered, he was flipping through some papers and called out, “Hey Nari.”
She cursed, and came around the corner.  “How’d you know?”
“I didn’t, just a hunch,” he shrugged and tossed the papers on a nearby table.  “What are you doing here?”
“Achaicious is dead,” Nari told him, “and there’s been movement in the underground.”
“Movement?  What kind?”
“The bad kind,” she came closer, her long blonde hair swirling under the vent above her, “haven’t you noticed the new Specters coming to town?  You caught a Black Angel, right?”
Aeryn nodded.  “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying something’s happening, and I don’t know what that is,” she crossed her arms, “something’s coming, Aeryn, and it’s big.  The Arch has always had secrets, and they aren’t including me in them.”
“So why are you here?” Aeryn didn’t see her point.
“They’re the ones killing the Ventori,” she tried not to yell, “they’re the ones making Specters go STRAY, and they’re the ones behind everything bad in this city!”
“Well what do you want me to do about it?” Aeryn was yelling now.  “I came back to find Noble’s killer, and I did, so I’m done.  I’m going to finish with Kehzia, and I’m going to get the Light out of here!”
He ripped open his front door, and Nari took the hint.  She wondered when he had grown so cold.  As she passed him, she kept her eyes on the hallway and said, “Don wouldn’t have wanted this, we used to be friends.”
She stepped out, and the door slammed shut.  Her one friend in the entire city, the one person that could help her, just kicked her out.
Her feet moved fast as she left the building, resisting her own tears.  Never, not ever, did she think Aeryn would ignore the obvious.  And as she smashed open the front doors of the building, a woman caught her eye.
“You know,” the raven haired woman said, “I think we can help each other.”
Nari paused, ready to attack.  She could sense this woman was a Specter, but she leaned casually against the building, arms crossed.  Her head turned lazily to face Nari, and she stood straight.
“What do you mean?” Nari asked.
“The Ark needs to go.”
“What do you care of the Ark?” Nari allowed her hands to lower to her sides, though her instincts were on full alert.
“Walk with me, I’ll tell you a story.”  The woman nodded her head down the empty street, and Nari glanced up at Aeryn’s building.  When she locked eyes with the woman again, she stepped forward.
Nari the Unseen had finally found someone willing to help.  Maybe now she would finally be able to discover what those at the Ark were doing.
“What’s this story, then?” Nari asked, her footsteps echoing as they walked.   But she noticed this woman made no noise as she moved.
“Have you heard of Kehzia Noble?” the woman questioned back.
“Yes.” Nari knew of Kehzia from all the stories Donataen had told.  
“She might not be all that she seems,” the woman said, “the Ark aren’t the only ones with dark secrets.”
“What are you saying?” Nari could feel her skin beginning to crawl, and she didn’t want Kehzia involved in this.  She was Donataen’s little sister, she couldn’t be involved.
“Miss Noble…she is the key to taking down the Ark, even if she doesn’t know it yet.  Or a better way of putting it, would be taking over.”
“She can’t get involved,” Nari stopped on the concrete, “she has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh,” the woman laughed, “she has everything to do with this.”


Thanks for reading!  Continue on for a look at my other books.
###

About the author:
D.L. Miles graduated from Sheridan College and currently resides in Southern Ontario.  She enjoys Doctor Who marathons with her brother or playing video games with friends.

Connect with D.L. Miles online:
Twitter: http://twitter.com/somethingofdev
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Blog: http://www.dlmilesbooks.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/somethingofdev
Instagram: somethingofdev

###
Shadeland: Book One of The Ethereal Crossings
It’s been one year since the creatures of Shadeland have exposed themselves to the world, but seventeen year old Liv doesn’t really care; she knew of them long before anyone else did because her best friend Luke is one. But when women begin dying in her hometown, Luke gets blamed for the killings because he isn’t human and it sets Liv on a mission to find out who the killer really is, or what it is.

Prologue:
“You’ll regret this!” she screamed.  “I swear I’ll make you regret this bounty hunter!”
The bounty hunter smashed the door shut after shoving the blue-haired creature inside.  The house creaked in protest and a vine fell down over his arm.  He brushed it off with a gruff movement, wincing as he reopened a wound the witch had given him.
“You’re trapped, witch,” he shouted inside.  “You won’t be making any more deals now.”
He had expected her to cry out again, to scream and thrash against the door but she didn’t.  She only laughed, “You think you can hold me here?  You may be spell-marked, hunter, but I will learn every inch of this hole.  There is nowhere anyone can hide from me!”
He spun on his heel, knowing how right she was.  The stars sparkled overhead, not giving away how screwed up the world had become.
Ever since the freaks came out of hiding his business had been busier than ever.  Though he liked to be busy with work, it was getting out of hand with all the vampires, werewolves and every other…Eidolon he had never heard of.  The bounty hunter stretched his leg before jumping into his car, feeling the sting of a new tattoo; it might be sore now, but it had saved him from getting his ass kicked by that witch again.  Being spell-marked would only protect him for so long from her power.
His eyes fell over the house, the boarded up windows and the shingles falling off made it look haunted.  Well, now it officially is, he thought.  It was broken down and the yard was overrun with weeds, the only thing in the garden that looked like they may bloom was the roses set along the fence.  He grunted, feeling an open slice on his back as he leaned further into the leather seat.  His hand moved to turn the radio on, a voice buzzing into his ear.
“This so called ‘revolution’,” came a male’s voice, “is really over, isn’t it Jill?  I mean, what did they really want?  And how can we give it to them?  If it means they’ll leave us alone, I’m all for it!”
“Joe,” said his female companion, Jill, “these creatures, these Eidolon’s, are not monsters.  This isn’t some ‘revolution’ in the traditional sense, they aren’t here to…to take over, they’re just making their presence known to us.  What’s wrong with that?”
“That sounds like sympathizer talk!” Joe laughed.  “But seriously, look what they’ve done to the world!  New York City has had record lootings, Toronto has reported hundreds dead from the stadium fire…and right here in town we’ve had a few fires and even some assaults!  If you ask me, they should have stayed in their little island in Bermuda.”
“The humans are the ones looting!” Jill shouted.  “You are the ones attacking us, attacking each other!  And this isn’t a ‘revolution’, it’s…more of a coming out party.  We are citizens too, and it’s time all you humans know about it!  I’m sick of hiding!  We outnumber you, yet you make all the decisions!”
“Jill…” Joe said, obviously taken aback by his co-workers outburst.  The bounty hunter clicked the radio off, hearing enough.
“A coming out party, eh?” he pondered.
With a turn of the key, the car roared to a start, and he looked ahead at the darkened road, only hearing a residual banging from the witches door.  The bounty hunter shook his head and brushed his hair back with one hand as he pulled away from the house, wondering when he would have to come back here.  He had a feeling he would be coming back to Ellengale very soon.


Chapter 1:
One year after the “revolution”…

“I’m so glad your dad is letting you come with me,” he said, “we’ll get to learn so much.  You’ll love it.”  Luke clapped his hands together in the passenger seat, clearly excited about the coming lecture.  I rolled my eyes and kept driving, I had come this far, I wasn’t about to snake my way out now.  He patted my leg and said, “Liv, you’ll see.”
“Do you remember when we were eight,” I started, “and you told me your biggest secret ever?”
“Yes…” he had no idea where I was going with this.
“And do you remember how I didn’t care?  I still don’t care.  I will never care.”  It was Luke’s turn to roll his eyes at me.  When would he learn that I was just too indifferent to what had happened in the past year?
“Turn left up here,” he smiled.  He was starting to act like a child.  Wait, no, he wasn’t just starting; he had always acted like a child.  
I pulled into the Ellengale Community College student parking lot and waited behind two other cars to get past the guard.  Luke flashed a parking permit at a lanky man, he didn’t even look old enough to be called a man in fact.  His name tag read “Johnson” and he nodded us through, his finger slamming down on a button to allow us passage.
Stopping in the first spot I found we stepped out of the car.
“Did you have to park so far away?” Luke questioned as he shut the door.  He gestured to the guard’s tiny hut 20 feet from where we had parked and the furthest point from B Hall entrance.  I shrugged.
“Easier this way.”
Soon, Luke and I glided through the glass doors of B Hall.  The entrance was nearly empty and I glanced at a large printed clock hanging on the beige wall.  5:05pm; we were late.  My eyes shifted toward Luke in time to see him give me a dirty look, most likely thinking about how far away I had parked.  Without a word I nodded my head towards two women seated in front of a set of large wooden doors.  Obviously the school went all out on making this place feel non-threatening.  I felt conflicted as to whether or not it was working.
I walked up to the women and took a brief moment to consider where we were, after all this time.  Hands in my sweater pockets, I stared down at the blonde woman.  She seemed normal enough; humming a small tune beneath her breath while she scribbled something down on paper.  Brown roots showed through under the bleached strands with eyebrows matching neither of the colours on her head.  Her nametag read “Heather”.
Luke cleared his throat beside me, drawing everyone’s attention. The blonde woman and her petite partner smiled at him, their thoughts written cleanly on their faces.  Luke was a reasonably attractive man; sandy brown hair, big blue eyes with a lean figure.  I was often told by others that he was every girls dream.  I didn’t see it, he was just Luke to me, the boy that I had grown up with.  Lucky me.  At least according to the girls at school that never talked to me unless Luke was picking me up.
“What can I help you with?” the blonde asked, completely ignoring me.  She set her pen down and folded her hands in front of her, focusing all of her attention on Luke.  This much, I was used to.
“We’re here for Dr. Wineman’s lecture,” Luke replied, “we’re uh, we’re a little late.”  He gave a small, innocent shrug.
“Names?”  She lifted her pen and flipped through some papers.
“Lucan Harroway,” he said.  When the woman gave me an observant look he added, “plus one.”  He held up one finger before quickly putting it back in his pocket.  The receptionist looked down her list and checked off the name.  Next to her, the small one handed Luke two stickers saying “Hi, my name is” and a blank space.
“Write your names and stick it to your chest,” she instructed, “humans on the left, everyone else on the right.” She patted her own nametag, sitting over her heart.
“Oh, um, alright,” Luke said nervously as he picked up a pen.  Elegantly, he wrote his name in cursive and peeled the back off.  He was about to stick it over his heart but quickly rethought and patted it down on the right side of his chest.  I tried not to give him a pitying look; poor Luke had never wanted to broadcast the fact that he wasn’t human, even after the “revolution” last year.  Without looking me in the eye he handed the second sticker to me with a pen.
Unlike my friend, I didn’t have to think about what to write, or where to place the sticker.  I quickly wrote “+1” in the empty space and stuck it over my heart.  Nobody seemed to notice what I had written though.  I felt more amused than insulted by their lack of observation.
“Walk on in,” Heather smiled, “the doctor is just getting started.”  I held my arm out to gesture for Luke to go first.  He followed my order and carefully touched the door handle.  Pushing the entry open, he peeked his head in first before stepping inside.  I followed behind him, not nearly as nervous as he was, but then again, I had no reason to be.
“Welcome to New History!” The man at the front of the lecture hall looked at us with open arms.  I glanced around at the rows of chairs, the five dozen other people were looking at us too.  “Please, take a seat.  I was just getting the introduction finished.”
“Sorry,” Luke said, holding his hands up.
“Not to worry,” the man said, “everyone is wel—“ he stopped talking when he saw me.  Or saw my badge to be more accurate.  His already bright eyes lit up even more.  “A human!”  I gave a small, panicked look towards Luke, who was already at the first step up the chairs.  The number one reason I didn’t want to come was about to happen.  Humans almost never showed up to these things, so they stood out when they did; and not everyone was so welcoming either.
“Uh, she’s not—“ Luke tried to stop him, but the kind Dr. Wineman was already in front of me with three long strides.
“We never get human’s here,” he exclaimed and wrapped me in a warm hug.  I couldn’t help but notice he smelled like a mix of vanilla and cinnamon as my face pressed into his chest.  My arms stayed at my sides as my fingers grew tense, not knowing what to do.  “I knew the human’s would come around, it was only a matter of time.”  
His head rested on mine and he sighed happily.  With one free eye, I surveyed the room; nobody else had the nametags over their heart, which meant I was the only human.  Great.  
The doctor continued, “Now tell me, darling, what made you decide to come and learn about New History?  And so young!  How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” I said quietly, hoping he would be the only one to hear me.  I was often told how mature I looked, at least compared to others my age.  Luke was the opposite; always being mistaken for younger when in reality he had just turned Twenty.
He pushed me back and held onto my shoulders as I blinked at him.  My pause didn’t seem to bother him though, a large smile still plastered on his face when he released me from his grip.  He kept his hands firmly on my shoulders, not letting go until I answered why I was there, so instead of saying the reason I merely pointed at Luke.  If I was going to suffer through this, so was he.
As my one, plain finger rose, Luke flinched at the stairs.  I hated to be singled out in a crowd but Luke hated it just a little bit more than me.
“I just thought it would be good for her to learn,” he explained, “with everything that has happened.”  The doctor took a quick look at Luke’s nametag and gave a knowing nod before patting me once on the back.  I wondered if he knew Luke had lied; we were here for his benefit, not mine.
“Well, take a seat,” he said, “you’ll be learning a lot.”  Luke let out a small sigh of relief as I walked over to him.  I resisted the urge to wipe away at my arms, feeling as if the doctor was still hugging me.  It felt strange to hug someone I didn’t know, or to even shake hands with them.  Luke said that made me weird.
 We found the last two seats together at the very back of the room, allowing us to easily see over everyone else.  The seats rested on the end of the row, so I only had to sit next to Luke and the aisle.  Thank God for tiny favours.
“Thank you all for coming,” Dr. Wineman said, “and welcome to New History.  Here you will learn all about what the humans never knew about the past.  You will find out what started the revolution and what ended it a year ago.  You will learn who and what the players really were and maybe learn a little bit about yourself.  Your true self.”
“Sounds like a lot of information for one class,” I mumbled to Luke without taking my gaze off the speaker.  I saw he began to play with his hands from the corner of my eye.
“Did I say one class?” he laughed cautiously.  “Because it’s actually a six week course.  Guess I forgot to mention that?”
“Hmm,” was all I managed to say.
“I’m sure you all know what happened last year,” the doctor said, he seemed to enjoy talking with his hands, “the revolution started for those of us with… for those of us who aren’t human.  And within a week, it had ended.”
But what a week it had been.  My hometown didn’t have much happen, a few fires and looters, but the rest of the world lost their minds on a whole new scale.  What did the non-humans expect though, coming out all of a sudden like that?  One day demons, vampires and the occult were just stories, the next, they were real.  They went from haunting children’s nightmares to haunting everyone and the humans didn’t really like that.  I was lucky, I already knew because of Luke.
Luke had told me when I was eight years old that he wasn’t exactly normal.  He wasn’t a demon either, but not fully human.  At eight I was amazed; he told me that everything from my nightmares and my dreams were real, that about half of the people I saw everyday weren’t what they appeared.  He thought I would hate him though, call him a monster and run away.  I didn’t, I swore to keep his secret and I did just that.  I smiled to myself, remembering how Luke’s parents reacted when they found out I knew.  What seemed to annoy them the most was that he only told me because I swore not to tell; that that was all it took for him to confess it to me.
When the humans discovered who their neighbours were, who their friends were, they sort of freaked out.  Very few of them accepted it, most feel that the Eidolon, those that aren’t human, should be tagged, like animals; they’re still petitioning to have it done.  I try to ignore what people say about Eidolon’s, I try to stay out of the battle all together.  It annoyed me how they felt my closest friend should be treated, but I wasn’t welcome to fight on the side of Eidolon’s, since I was a human.
Luke elbowed me in the ribs to draw my attention back to the doctor.  I hadn’t noticed I had begun staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
“Now how many of you,” Dr. Wineman said, “know exactly where you come from.” People glanced around the room as a few raised their hands in the air.  I counted about 15.  “And how many of you have absolutely no clue as to what you are; you just woke up and started having abilities.”  Almost everyone else in the room raised their hands, most being very careful not to be the first.  Most Eidolon’s that didn’t know who they were and were still nervous to identify themselves in public.  There are a lot of humans out there that are ready to kill if necessary.  I noticed Luke never raised his hand; which made sense; he didn’t fit into either category.
“Don’t be ashamed,” the doctor said, “it’s perfectly normal.  After all, Cleopatra may have had no idea of her true nature.”  The crowd began to murmur amongst themselves at the mention of the Egyptian queen.  I had to admit, my interest was piqued.  
“Yes that’s right,” Dr. Wineman smiled, his lesson going as planned, “Cleopatra was not human.  Can anyone guess what she was?”  Nobody said a word and I spotted a few shrugs across the room.
“Succubus,” I mumbled under my breath, quiet enough so that even Luke couldn’t hear.
“What was that?” Dr. Wineman was watching me now and he pointed to me, excited.  Damn, how did he hear?  Whatever he was, it gave him good hearing.  “Ms…plus one,” he said after looking at my nametag, “cute.  So, what did you say?”  I saw Luke cover his eyes in embarrassment over what I had written.  Made us even, he tricked me into a six week course, I embarrassed him.
Everyone was looking at me now, some with curiosity as to how I knew the answer and some with annoyance that a human knew more than them.  It’s not like I actually knew though, I had just guessed.
“Succubus,” I said again, barely any louder than before.  I kept my eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone in the room.  It was a little strange that I was right, I supposed.  
“Please, louder so everyone can hear,” the doctor’s smile grew wider.  Was he enjoying my discomfort or the fact that a human was right about something for once?  I guessed it was the latter.  I didn’t like talking loudly, or even talking much at all so I looked to Luke and he knew what to do.
“Succubus,” he said loudly, “Cleopatra was a succubus.”  The fact that Luke answered for me seemed to throw the doctor, whose endless smile finally faltered.
“Uh, correct,” he beamed, “Cleopatra was indeed a succubus.  Ms… plus one, would you mind telling us how you knew and perhaps your real name?” He chuckled to himself, amused.
“Just guessed,” I said, “it seemed obvious.”  Luke repeated my answer but never said what my name was, probably because I didn’t tell him to.
“You just guessed?” Dr. Wineman seemed surprised, enough so that he forgot to ask for my name.  I nodded at him, confirming the truth.  “Well, an excellent guess it was!  But how did you arrive at the answer?  There are a lot of creatures out there to choose from, why succubus?  Most people don’t even know what a succubus is.   And to know at your age…”  Why did the doctor want me to explain so much?  I inhaled deeply through my nose.
“Cleopatra was known for her beauty and seducing men at a young age,” I explained, not trying to be heard, “she was also ruthless when it came to killing and backstabbing.  Seemed obvious.”  Luke didn’t repeat anything this time and the doctor seemed happy with the answer.  Then again, he seemed happy all the time; it seemed out of place with his greying hair and distinguished reputation.
“Very good!” he clapped his hands and began to wander around the room again.  “Cleopatra is only one of many famous, or infamous I should say, people in history that were not actually human.  How about you all shout out some names and I’ll tell you if they were human or not.”  He stuck both hands towards the crowd and flicked his fingers towards himself.  For a moment everyone was silent but it quickly changed.
The crowd began shouting names, most of them celebrities; the doctor ignored them.
“Nixon!” One man yelled from the center row and Dr. Wineman pointed at him, a large grin on his face.
“Excellent choice young man,” he said to quiet the others down, “Nixon was in fact human.”  Some people laughed, while others were surprised.
“Hitler!” Another man said from the other side of the room.  Not an imaginative bunch here, they were just going for the obvious.  The doctor laughed, most likely thinking what I was.  It made me wonder how many times he had to go through the same people in this class.
“Adolph Hitler was human,” he said and some people groaned, “but he did know of demons.  He summoned one and sold his soul.  Can anyone guess what for?”
“Power?” the same man who suggested Hitler said.  Dr. Wineman shook his head.  Other people began suggesting money, world domination, an army.  No imagination what so ever.
“Probably charisma,” I breathed quietly, not thinking the doctor would hear me again.  I thought wrong.
“Correct!” He shouted and pointed once more at me.  Suddenly all eyes were on me again.  I shrunk a little in my seat, making a mental note not to say anything else.  “Hitler had summoned a demon and sold his soul for charisma.  Another guess?”  I gave a weak smile and shrugged.  He eyed me a moment before moving on.  “Two more and then we’ll continue!”
“Elvis!” The woman in the front row said.
“Yes!” Dr. Wineman said, “Elvis was in fact not human.  He was a Satyr.  Some of you may be thinking that doesn’t make sense, but it does.”  He tilted his head, thoughtful.  “Satyr’s are most known for being half man, half goat.  I’m sure most you of are aware that Elvis was not this.  Over time the Satyr’s evolved, shedding their half goat appearance and Elvis was the one Satyr in a million that didn’t party like his kind or lust after women.  One more and then we move on!”  I was a little surprised the doctor didn’t elaborate on what had happened after Elvis died.
I began to contemplate over Elvis the Satyr.  Satyrs were immortal beings weren’t they?  So then he really didn’t die, he was still alive, somewhere; which would explain all the supposed sightings of him, or at least most of them.  Crazy would have explained them better pre-revolution.  My eyes began to drift upwards again as I became lost in thought, thinking about immortality.  Luke gave me another elbow to the ribs to pay attention.
“Amelia Earhart,” said the girl in front of me.  She didn’t shout like the others, in fact, she was rather quiet.  That didn’t stop Dr. Wineman from hearing her though.
“Ah, Ms. Earhart,” he said, “she is a mystery, even to us.”  By “us” he must have meant Eidolon’s.  I found it interesting that even they didn’t know what had happened to her.  Unless they did know, and they just didn’t want anyone else to figure it out.  I wasn’t going to be surprised if it turned out she wasn’t human, or her disappearance had anything to do with Eidolon’s.
“Let’s continue on then,” the doctor said as he walked over to the projector.  He began to fumble with it, confused as to how it worked; like all teachers were.  Next to me Luke pulled out a small note pad, ready to take down anything he thought should be remembered.  Apparently the fact that Cleopatra and Elvis weren’t human was not note-worthy to him.
“Do you have a pen?” he asked me, not as prepared as I had given him credit for.  I reached into my handbag and handed him a purple gel pen.  He grimaced and I gave a small smirk to myself, still watching Dr. Wineman work on the projector.  “Thanks.”
I had a feeling this was going to be a long three hours and an even longer six weeks.

###
The Warden in the Gates
Des Grayson is the descendent of druids, along with everyone else in the Eclipse Gated community. And when they turn 16, they must go through a sacred ritual called a Placement Ceremony. When placed, they receive a gift from their ancestors, making them Wardens. But Des' gift is like no other, and she begins to hear whispers about a war. A war that she is destined to start.

Prologue:
My placement was the most anticipated day of my life, as it was for everyone else that lived inside the gated community of Eclipse.  But when I woke up that morning I had never anticipated how it would end; the day of my placement was the day I died.
Everything had gone according to my plan.   I woke up, had breakfast with my mother and father, and then left for Eclipse Academy, my future home away from home.  I had helped set everything up with the seniors, preparing the chairs in the auditorium for my future classmates, putting signs around the school should anyone get lost and I even got to watch my father place out the Runes for the ceremony.
And despite the fact that my father was the Dean of the Academy I waited with my friends in the auditorium and we squealed over what our placement might be.  Honestly though, I knew where I would be.
My name was called, and I had my ceremony and I was placed.  My parents had never been more proud of me.  I had never been so happy in my life, and to celebrate, I decided to show my five year old cousin just what I was capable of.
I didn’t think I would really do anything; I had originally planned on doing a magic trick, pretend like I was growing a flower out of the ground and when she wasn’t looking carefully enough, I would slip one from my hand to amaze her.  I had never thought that something would actually grow, merely an hour after my placement.
My cousin, Desdemona, had screamed in delight over the small tulip I brought forth.  Both my father and my uncle stood behind me, jaws dropped.  Even mine was hanging open.  But that wasn’t where it ended.
My darling little cousin, with her big grey eyes and golden hair, wanted to show me what she could do as well.
“You haven’t been placed yet, Dessy,” my father told her, “you can’t do anything just yet.”
“Can so!” she pouted and stepped away from me.  She threw her arms into the air and took a deep breath.  Somehow, she had managed to take the attention away from the flower I had created, and we all laughed at how cute she was.  Until a cloud appeared overhead.
Quickly and violently, black clouds erupted above us.  My father was already pulling me backwards towards my uncle’s house while Desdemona stayed on the lawn.  It wasn’t long until the first flake fell.
Millions of snowflakes followed after it, blowing around in the harsh breeze around my tiny cousin, who was still dancing around in her sundress.  She loved the snow, she always had and that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing now if it wasn’t the middle of August.
And soon the snow stopped falling, leaving us to stare at Desdemona.  She was giggling and kicking the white fluff around in the yard, perfectly happy with what she had done.  That was when we noticed it.
On her foot, just at the base of her ankle, sat a swooping line; a mark that had never been seen before.  I had never seen it at least.
“Allie,” my father said.  “Come with me.”
It was only a few hours after the incident that I had died.  I had to die though, because of what I had witnessed.  This was the only way I could protect her, my little Dessy.  This was the only way she would be safe…until she turned sixteen at least.


Chapter 1:
“What do you think it’s like?” Anna flicked her wavy red locks behind her, drawing the eyes of the crowd that shuffled past us.  I pulled at the edges of my shirt, feeling as if the people were watching me; they weren’t, Anna was what they couldn’t look away from.
Standing at 5’10” with long, shining hair and legs that seemed to go on forever Anna was incredibly popular with the guys and oddly enough with girls as well.  I, on the other hand, lived in her shadow.  Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less if I lived there, she was my best friend.  I just wished people would stop saying that to me, since nothing in this world could make me resent her.  But still, everyone asked if I was jealous of her.  I wasn’t.
“Des?” Anna asked, taking her eyes from the colourful baubles on the tablecloth before us.  The Solar Festival was always filled with the best baubles that seemed like a good idea when bought but were absolutely pointless when taken home.  Still, I had a tradition of buying one every year, keeping them together since I was about three years old.  This year I was hoping to find a nice set of wind chimes, preferably ones that had birds on them.
“What?” I picked up a small dragonfly necklace and inspected it under the midday sun.  It glinted in the rays, reflecting a rainbow onto the cloth beneath it.   I had a hint as to what Anna was talking about but I wasn’t absolutely sure.
“EA!” she exclaimed.  “Remember?  The school, that we’re going to, in, like, less than a month?”  My eyes widened, as did the woman’s behind the table.  She began to wave someone over, bracelets jingling against her skin, but I didn’t stay to find out who.
“Shut up Anna!” I threw the necklace down and yanked her away from the booth, dragging her to a quiet spot on the sidewalk.  Hunched over to avoid any eavesdroppers her red hair mixed in with my own in the air.  “Do you want to get expelled before we’re even placed?”
“Oh, come on,” Anna rolled her eyes, “nobody here cares.”
“Well obviously you didn’t see how that woman reacted back there,” I thrust my thumb behind me.  “She looked like she was about to—“
“Call her son over to get him to ask one of us out?  Yeah, that happens all the time to EA students.  We might as well get used to it while we can!”  Anna shoved me off of her, walking back to look at more jewellery.  Roasting in the heat of the sun, I followed after her, not wanting to lose her like I had every other year.  I was not going to lose her to Eli again.
Anna and I had both turned 16 this year, which meant we were being given acceptance into Eclipse Academy, one of the most prestigious academy’s in the…well in most of the world.  Yes, it had sister schools on other continents but we were still considered better.  Oh, look at that, I was already thinking “we”.  And like Anna, I was just as excited to get in; this was the moment I had been waiting for all my life.
I thought most teenagers would hate having to transfer schools at 16, but since everyone that went into EA was previously homeschooled nobody cared.  Anyone that went to EA lived in the Eclipse gated community, sitting on the edge of the actual town, Eclipse.  Well, I guess you could say that the town Eclipse was on the edge of the gated community.   Or even both sat on the outskirts of the academy.  Nobody really knew how it worked so most assumed the town came first; they were wrong.
This whole town was built in the middle of a forest, around the school a little over a century ago, with the founding families living within the gated community.  Anyone living outside the gate we labelled as commoners; a nickname that made us sound mean, but when compared to us, they really were common.  Not that they knew the real reason we called them common, though.
“Hey, over here,” Anna waved me over to view a sidewalk artist drawing an immense scene on the concrete.  It appeared he was starting some sort of waterfall there, using the chalk in ways I couldn’t even imagine; it looked like we were about to fall into the water.  We stood on the side so as to not get in the artists way and to allow some other people to watch too.
“You really shouldn’t advertise about that,” I scolded, “not everyone in town is super accepting to it.  Besides, if you brag too much they’ll kick you and you won’t get placed.”  I tried to stress the seriousness of not getting placed, or being taken out of Eclipse Academy; something that brought immense shame to your family.  I had never heard of anyone not getting placed, but Anna tended to be the first person to do…well, anything really.  She had been first to join a commoners soccer team, date a commoner (only two dates but it was unheard of), and she had been the first person to get a job (something which lasted as long as the commoner boy).
“Oh, you know where I’m gonna get placed,” Anna laughed, “everyone in my family has been in…they’ve all been in the same section so I will totally get in there too.”  I grimaced, knowing that there was more to it than that.
EA had seven defined sections, which usually went down into four because they were all called something different in other places; everyone still stayed with their original section members, from what I heard and when you graduated you just stuck with the seven still.  The school halls were divided among the four, ensuring less contact with the others.  All of Anna’s family had been put in the Vale section, also known as the “easy section”.  I had a feeling Anna would be put somewhere else, but I wasn’t about to tell her that, to get her hopes up and be wrong.
“Still, you can’t talk around the commoners,” a group of people next to me shot me a glare, not liking their nickname.  “It’s against the school rules.”
“We haven’t even gone to orientation,” Anna rolled her eyes at me, “what am I going to say that won’t get me placed?”
“You’ll say something, I’m sure,” came a voice from behind.  We turned to see Elijah strutting towards us, hands in his jean pockets.  A few common girls watched him come towards us until somebody elbowed one of them in the ribs, telling her we were soon to be EA students; they immediately walked off, not even making eye contact.  They were always like that, as soon as they realized you lived within the gates.  Their parents or even grandparents wanted their kids involved with the gated community, but the actual teenagers didn’t think so.
“You’re not funny, Eli,” I said, “this isn’t something to joke about!”
Eli held his hands up.  “Sorry, sorry.  But Des is right, Anne.  Let’s stop talking about it before a senior comes and beat us up EA style.”
All of us knew what “EA style” was, thankfully nobody around us would.
“Agreed,” I breathed.  I didn’t want to risk not getting placed, not when there were only two and a half weeks till placement.  “Did you guys want to go on the Ferris wheel?”
“That’s for two people only,” Elijah feigned a pout, probably already knowing how this would end.
“That’s the point.” I arched my eyebrows, telling him I wanted to hang out with Anna alone today.  He didn’t take the hint and followed us over to the line.  
It took less than thirty seconds to reach the front, and I had assumed that Anna and I would ride together and Elijah would ride with someone else.  I assumed wrong.
Sitting on the plastic chair I crossed my arms with a huff.  Some best friend she was, leaving me to sit with a commoner.  Waiting in line was a group of them, each one whispering with small glances at me.  Perfect, now I was becoming a spectacle because nobody wanted to sit with me.  Once I started classes I would never leave the safety of the gates, I was certain.
“Pick someone already,” the gruff ride operated ordered and the group shoved one forward.  A tall boy slid his feet on the ground before reluctantly approaching me.  He took a seat next to me, grimacing the whole time; I tried not to care, since I was doing the same.
“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, “you aren’t exactly who I wanted to be at the top with.”  I laughed as the ride operator secured the bar in front of us.
“Hey, I don’t want to be here with you either.”  The car behind us erupted with “oohs”.
“Yo Des!” Elijah cheered.  “Better be careful, he looks frisky.”  The boy groaned and covered his eyes, leaning on the side.  I did the same.
While we made our rotation I noticed that my unwanted companion was watching in front of us, gripping the silver bar with his left hand too tightly.  I followed his line of vision to see a couple that he had been with in line, inching closer and closer together.  
“You wanted to be with her, then?” I asked, hoping a bit of conversation would make the ride go faster.  Though I did tend to look down on anyone that I didn’t grow up with, I wasn’t opposed to conversing with them about more normal things.  Talking with them allowed me to get a better perspective of their lives, basically teaching me how to blend in easier.  It was a valuable learning experience for when I graduated.
“What do you care,” he demanded, “you’re an EA-er.”
“Guess not,” I mumbled to myself, diminishing any hope of making the ride go by faster.  Turning to see what Anna and Eli were doing I found they were talking and much to my disappointment, looking like the perfect couple.
Eli was tall, with that rugged, quarterback look I always saw in movies.  Anna had the matching head cheerleader thing going on, though both of them had never actually done those sports before.  Nobody within the gates did, it was looked down on by our parents; besides, there weren’t enough of us for any kind of team.
“You wanna be with him?” the boy next to me smirked, as if we were even.  There was something else in his tone though, that said differently.  As if he wanted me to say “no”.
“Not even,” I laughed again.  It was the truth, as nice as Eli was, he wasn’t my kind of person.
“Her then?” his eyebrows raised.  I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms with a shake of the head.  He was nowhere near the mark.
“Wrong again,” I sighed, “I just didn’t want to be with a co--other person.”  Nice save.  The sun beat down on my scalp and made me wish I had brought a hat as we rounded the top of the wheel.  I was beginning to sweat under the heat but my companion seemed fine, almost enjoying the rays like a cat would during a nap.  I was a little jealous, since I had never taken the heat well.
Sitting at the top allowed a small breeze to help cool me down.  And seeing the entire festival wasn’t so bad either.  The tops of the booths weren’t decorated much, but sitting at the top they were certainly colourful.  All along the main road people ran around, like ants under a magnifying glass; except they weren’t burning alive or anything.  I was the only one doing that, it seemed.
I tried to spot anyone I knew down below, preparing to find a friend for when Anna ditched me.  There was nobody in the crowd though and I accepted my loner fate.  It had happened just about every other year, so why should this one be different?
“Well sorry for bringing your rep down, sweetheart,” he scoffed, “didn’t mean to taint your aura or anything.”
Oh yes, the glorious stereotype of EA.  Anyone not in the school thought that we were these snot-nosed, privileged vampires that dealt with the occult and magicks.  Well, it was a little close, but we weren’t vampires.  And we didn’t deal with the occult, our specialty lay in rune stones and technically we were descendants of druids.
“Taint my aura?” I mocked.  “You can’t actually think that’s what we do.  I’ll have you know I’m not even a student yet!  And we aren’t at all like you people think we are.”
“Listen to yourself,” he turned his body towards me and I had to force myself not to notice how muscular he was.  He was probably a sports player.  “’You people’.  What’s your name, huh?”
“What do you care?”
“Just tell me your name.”
“Don’t do it Des!” Anna called over, craning her neck to see us.  She was not covering her giggling well at all.  “It’s a trap!”
“Shut up!” I called back to her, shaking the chair as I forced by body around too quickly to point at her.  “This is your fault.”  I turned back towards the boy. “My name is Desdemona, if you really want to know.”
“Of course it is,” he covered his eyes as he laughed more, “all you people have weird names.”
“No we don’t!” I ripped my body towards him.  “My name is perfectly normal, it’s from Shakespeare, look it up you uneducated plebeian!”
The boys crush and her companion turned to look down at us while Anna and Eli went quiet in front.  I hadn’t realized I had just yelled my insult at him.  He stared at me, mouth moving up and down, trying to find the words.
“I’m not some plebeian,” he declared rather calmly, “my name is Rayne and just because I’m not some freak who lives in a cage that doesn’t mean I’m uneducated.”
“I don’t live in a cage,” I gasped, “it’s a gated community and you…Rayne is not a normal name!”  Oh yeah, had him there.  
“Uh…Des,” Anna said, approaching our car with Eli, “you can get off now.”
I looked over at her, face red with anger as my heart tried to run a marathon.  The stocky ride operator had lifted our bar and we were free to leave; he didn’t even seem to care that we had started a yelling match.  Okay, I had started yelling.  I shot off the seat and walked away, not waiting for her or Eli.
“Thank God,” Rayne mumbled, walking away to wait for his friends; getting a look at them now as I walked by they seemed older.  Either way, my day had officially been ruined by a commoner.

Two hours later I was still fuming over what I was referring to as the Ferris wheel incident.  Anna had sent Eli away and we had gotten cotton candy to help ease my mood.  The sugar helped, but just barely.
“I can’t believe him,” I said, shoving a pink piece of fluff into my mouth.  “’Sorry, didn’t mean to taint your aura’.” I mimicked, making my voice deeper.
“Well you did call him a plebeian,” Anna said, picking at her own candy.  “Let’s just forget about it, okay?  Look on the bright side; it’s the Solar Festival and we’re finally going to Eclipse Academy this fall.”  She shoved my shoulder, making me smile.
“Okay,” I agreed.
She was right, I should be happy right now.  Soon enough, I would get to find out what section I was in, which was a huge rite of passage in our families.  Soon, I would get to run home and tell my parents where I had been placed, and get to tell my little sister about how great EA was in person.
In just a couple of weeks the moment we had been preparing for our whole lives was about to happen, the very reason we had been home schooled since birth and the reason we lived within the confine of the gates.
“So do you wanna go shopping some more?” Anna pulled her hair back from the heat, it swished back and forth a few times once let go.  I stuck another piece of cotton candy into my mouth.
“Sure.”  I still needed to find my wind chimes, after all.

Wandering around the festival had proved to help my mood.  I had finally found the perfect set of yellow finch wind chimes to hang out my window, with silver tubes hanging down creating a beautiful noise.  I really liked these birds, since you couldn’t find them anywhere near Eclipse.  Hopefully the other birds that lived in the area wouldn’t run into them though, somehow mistaking the tubes as a feeder of some kind.
Lost in the glow and sound of the chimes I mindlessly followed Anna towards another booth and bumped into someone on the way.
“Sorry,” I said, checking to make sure my chimes were alright.  They were fine, but now a little tangled from the collision.
“I didn’t think you could say that to a plebeian.” I looked up to find Rayne standing there, a grin on his face as if he had just won the battle against me.  I made a disgusted sound, thinking about how this was just my luck.  Although, I didn’t see any of his friends with him this time, but did that make it better?
“Whatever, commoner,” I mocked and started walking away again.
“See you later, sweetheart.”  I ignored the nickname he had given me, considering it could be worse.  Well, maybe it couldn’t.
###