Wingspan dedication

To my fearless team

for instilling bravery and unconditional love my way.

None of this would be possible without you.

Wingspan

Thrown out from secondary school Aislin receives opportunity to graduate when she's accepted to Stark House- a private institution for the wayward youth. Extremely nervous about following through with Admissions on a good start Aislin is exposed to a bunch of odd characters namely Kira, a purple haired spunky girl with enough attitude to match any boys, and Josh, the sweet introspective grunge with a wild taste for accessories; but it's the average looking brown-eyed boy who catches her attention most- whose name later on is revealed as Rider, a renowned trickster with sinister ulterior motives.

On her very first day Aislin gets caught off guard during p.e. when two best friends introduce themselves as Mason, the green-eyed goof ball who makes fun of Wesley, the solemn artist with impeccable refined social behavior uncommon for a place filled with disturbed teenagers.

Aislins new everyday norm becomes stressful to handle when she meets Toby, a surly boy with severe attitude problems whom she never knows how will act on any given day.

Being able to see ghosts from a young age Aislin helps out her accomplice, Chanel, to find the portal- a universal transporter which purpose serves as a gateway for spirits of the dead. However, that proves difficult when Chanel uncovers a long-standing deception between Stark House graduates which Chanel eventually tells Asilin about.

Suspecting that something fishy is going on at Stark House, Aislin becomes determined to find out what her new friends are up to. But the truth, once revealed, is so much more complicated than first realized.

With new rivals and unexpected friendships, Aislin must determine who she can trust or else risk to be known for another dead student found on campus grounds.

Assumed Identity- chapter 1

Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetime, is certain for those who are friends.
-Richard Bach

                                        ***

　

Throughout my entire adolescence and during most of my younger pre-pubescent years I've waited years for this moment which from conception lasts a total of two hours- yes, I counted. Everyone that I knew of- my mom, dad, teachers- couldn't seem to have been anymore thrilled for me. (After all, soon I was off studying for a promising degree in minor medicine.) But as I looked to the stands on the right side of the stadium filled with proud parents yelling and cheering alike I felt empty. Every time I moved- to walk or shake hands- it was like my body was cruising on autopilot mode doing its thing until I took back control of the reigns once again. I was worried. I wondered if, perhaps, there was something seriously wrong with me. How could I have reached this important milestone and not be happy about it? I was taking my meds on a regular basis so whatever it was, there wasn't anything medically wrong on that end. Nothing made sense to me anymore. I foolishly believed that the course of scenery during the last few years- eating in the library, studying at hall recess- would somehow be justified. I lost a significant amount of friends but I didn't mind so long as I got that scholarship- which I did get. Now that it was all said and done I wanted nothing more than to celebrate before we all parted ways. I came to the conclusion that it didn't matter if I acted out in a super crazed hyper-active manner like all the other guys did. Mostly, I was just glad that that particular phase was finally done and over with. I was eager to move on- I had a pile of stuff lying on my bed waiting to be packed.

I knew a majority of people that were confused, not to mention anxious about the idea of whatever came next. There was only one person that I knew of who didn't fit into any of those descriptions. Unfortunately for Brody, his parents would never get to see their only son walk down the aisle and shake hands with the dean and principle. I wasn't all that surprised when he showed up late for his own graduation, either. Brody was a highly motivated individual who never did anything even remotely close to conventional- maybe that's why he came during the after party complete with a travelers backpack and matching hiking gear.

For the first time ever I thought my best friend had lost his mind. Out of all the crazy stunts he pulled this one definitely took the cake. "You're going to India?" I asked in a state of shock. I heard what he said, of course. I just needed time to process it all.

Brody grinned like the fool I thought him to be. "I know, right? I figured, what the heck. I've always wanted to see the Ashrams." his gown, black in color, was unzipped to the knee and showed off his traveling outfit. I already knew what was in the Fanni pack. He showed me the passport and boarding ticket as soon as he saw me- it was a graduation gift from his parents, he said. Why couldn't they just get him something more practical instead, like a used car?

Everything was happening too fast for my liking and there was nothing that I could try and stop it. My best friend- the passionate dreamer with more ambition than any one man should ever have - was leaving to another country without any supervision whatsoever. I just hoped the poor bastard knew what he was getting himself into.

"Wow. The farthest I've ever been was to Lake City, and that was only because my dads friend invited us over to his place that one time." I knew that Brody would live an adventurous life- one that could never be written down as part of a schedule. "I'm happy for you, man." I said. And I meant it.

Brody smiled showing proof of his new white tooth filler. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

Our short goodbye ended once the sound of my parents voice gravitated to our remote corner of the banquet hall.

I heard my mom's high pitched laughter before I saw the top of her peach blond head. "Hey, boys. They're you are." she came up to me and fixed the tassel on my cap. I shot my mom the 'look' but she didn't care. My dad held out his camera and told us to get into position. "We should take a photo of the happy graduates." he said.

I shrugged. "Okay."

Brody stood beside me and put his arm around my neck. "Can you believe it?"

I grinned. "I know. For a second their I was worried about you." I made a face- the same kind our dean liked to do whenever he saw Brody in the hallway.

Brody rolled his eyes and smacked the back of my head. "Ha-Ha. Very funny."

My dad yelled at the both of us to quit goofing off and stand still. "All righty, kids. Say cheese."

As I looked at the camera I knew that Brody and I were going to be okay. We had a unique friendship that defied all social odds and yet here we were still best friends after all this time. Hell, I would do just about anything for the guy if he asked me to.

Assumed Identity

With good intentions a young man named Peter Scheklar reluctantly agrees to be a last minute replacement in a wedding thirteen thousand miles away from his place of residence where he assumes the identity of his flaky long-term friend, Brody, and must walk Nicky, Brody's sister, down the aisle. However, acting out as the brides older brother proves to be increasingly difficult once a new unseen curve ball is thrown into the equation which compromises the identity of the entire operation.

Two Wolves and A Heart- chapter 1

ok. so this story is a little more raunchy than my other ones. even so, I kind of like it. it was a fun challenge to write this particular scene. if you have the time tell me what you think about it? thnks. =)

Not having a mate wouldn’t be so bad. Dakota quietly contemplated. If it weren’t for the lack of sex, that is. Then he wouldn’t have such a problem with it at all. Dakota leisurely reached over and poured himself a fifth shot of whisky. The alcohol flowed out in one long fluid motion. So far the only thing mesmerizing about tonight was his impressive record count.

"Well, what about her?" Paul’s voice shook Dakota out of his lazy stupor. Dakota watched, vaguely interested, as Paul motioned to the short brunet who confidently walked on past them with determined purpose to the far side of the corner. She wasn’t ugly, he would give her that.

"What? Stacey?" Dakota asked mildly interested in the subject.

Paul shrugged. "Yeah. Why the hell not?"  They were sitting together at the bar counter in the far corner of the room away from everyone else. Thanks to recent events Dakota wasn’t really in the mood to socialize but Paul was the exception. In fact, Paul was the only person that Dakota really talked to on a daily basis. They were more than just business partners. They were friends and Dakota actually liked having Paul around. Although, right about now, Dakota wished that Paul would just let him sulk long enough to enjoy a proper hangover. 

Dakota stared down at the thin brown liquid setting at the bottom of the glass and chugged it down all at once. It was spicy and went down his throat in one smooth stream. He couldn’t get drunk. His metabolism was far too fast. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. After all, he had his very own bottle. He couldn’t let that bottle go to waste, now could he? That would be in poor taste. Besides, the way he figured, this was as good a time as any to try and numb his hyperactive senses. 

Dakota fought the urge to laugh at the absurd idea of fucking Stacey. "Hell no." Dakota shook his head defiantly. Paul was his child hood friend and appointed beta, but sometimes he wondered what the hell was going on through that thick skull of his. Once upon a time Stacey was more than just a friend. He hadn’t seen her for a while and truth be told, he wondered if maybe she left for the big city like she always talked about.

"She’s with Brian now. Besides, I’m not getting mixed up in that again." Honestly what was Paul thinking? The last thing Dakota needed right now was Brian on his case. He had enough trouble with the neighboring pack as it was.

Paul raised an eyebrow. "No shit. When did that happen?" Paul asked as he took a long drag from his cheap imported beer.

Dakota shrugged his shoulders in response. Dakota knew his friend meant well, but his mind was beginning to wander. It took him a while before he could come up with a coherent answer. "A while, I guess." Until today he thought the whole thing with her and Brian was just gossip going around the rumor mill. He figures they must have gotten together some time after that incident in the woods when she asked him to run away with her. Dakota liked living on the reservation and he didn’t have any plans on leaving any time soon. 

Paul nodded his head and looked around the room. "What about that one?" Paul asked, motioning to the hard-core blond playing a game of stakes across the room. "She’s your type." he said through a mouthful of salted cashews.

It wasn’t far from the truth. Tory was most definitely his type and matched his criteria perfectly; tall, blond, big breasts. But he already had her and he didn’t feel like rekindling with an old flame tonight. "Nah." Dakota waved dismissively at the thought of just having casual sex with Tory. She had one hell of a mouth that was for sure. Unfortunately, so did her older brother, Jared, who chewed him out the last time Dakota dumped Tory’s tight ass.

Dakota poured himself a sixth shot of whisky while he contemplated the situation that he was in. Maybe he was just in a rut. That would certainly explain why he didn’t feel like himself lately. A healthy lupine in his prime, such as he, should be romping around religiously and having a generous amount of pups by now. Not single and certainly not celibate. It was unheard of. He was an alpha for crying out loud. A dominate male who could have any woman in this bar if he wanted. The problem was he didn’t want any of them. No one in here caught his attention. It certainly didn’t help that he grew up alongside a few of them. Besides, he already had a go at most of the single eligible women here and he didn’t want to open that can of worms again. He knew what they said behind his back. After all, he was a single bachelor who wasn’t currently tied down. He already got out of one relationship. He wasn’t looking for another any time soon. The way he saw it, he was done with relationships. The problem was the women around here weren’t looking for fun. It was mating season and they were all looking to settle down and start a family of their own. That wasn’t something he could offer. At least, not right now.  

Dakota chugged the shot and slammed the glass down on the worn out counter top. Maybe the issue wasn’t him. It made sense if you thought about it. It’s not like he had any problem getting it up. It was quite the opposite, actually. Once he got started it took a while before he could seemingly satisfy his primal instincts. Werewolves were by nature a very horny species and could breed like no other. That’s what made them so dominant in the supernatural world.

Dakota was powerful and had great stamina. He had to. He was the alpha of a distinct pack, after all. It’s a good thing no one knew that he got dumped by his girlfriend. He figured it was best to keep that little bit of information to himself. Victoria Kingston was a blond were-cat who knew just what buttons to push him over the edge. He didn’t know if it was the copious amount of alcohol that he recently ingested within the hour, but suddenly, pictures of them lying together drenched in sweat, rolling around naked in between his cotton threaded sheets flicked through his mind like an unconscious reflex.   

They were an on-again off-again pair that lasted for five long years that he would never get back. For a while it was fun. They would have sex during his lunch break whenever she was in town, or sneak off to his cabin right after a meeting and lie in bed for hours talking about their potential business ventures. The problem was, after some time, he got tired of her too. He wasn’t sure why. Or when it happened for that matter. All he knows is, one day, after their usual afternoon romps in his cabin, he found himself lying next to a very sleepy veronica and felt absolutely nothing. For some time it bothered him. Surely having a woman as beautiful as veronica would satisfy even an alpha such as him. The last time they called it off, which was about six months ago, Veronica came over knocking on his door in some type of sexy red lingerie underneath her trench coat, and after a good romp in his king size bed he would remember what sex with her was like, and as she laid in his arms that particular night he thought at the time that he must have been crazy to leave someone as perfect as Veronica in the first place. Life went back to normal soon after that.

But a few months later that empty feeling came back with a nasty vengeance and he figured he might as well end it for good. There was just no point in wasting his time with a woman who obviously wasn’t cutting it for him anymore. So, that same day, after she came out of his bathroom fully clothed in her best traveling suit, he decided it was then or never. But before he could utter one syllable she dropped a bombshell on him. He was happy that she got a new full time job in New York City as a manager in some major company. She’d be a fool not to take it. After she laid the news on him she kissed his cheek with her pink ruby lips and said her goodbyes. After she left his cabin he sat on top of his unmade bed where only minutes earlier they had sex and realized that a long distance relationship would have never worked out anyway. It’s not like they saw each other on a regular basis as it was. Plus, he knew that her job would demand a good amount of her time and it’s not like he was going to run after her. He had his own responsibilities that kept him in Everglenn. Now that he thought about it Dakota could never remembered an instance where love was ever mentioned. Sure, he liked Vanessa but did he love her? Dakota would be the first to admit that their connection was based solely on physical attraction. Who would have ever thought the big bad alpha would be the one to get dumped. But, as Dakota sat on the stool refilling his glass with the remaining contents from the bottle, he wondered if getting dumped was a blessing in disguise.

His ancestors were a very superstitious lot who always said things happened for a greater purpose than our limited understanding. Perhaps the same applied for him.

The more Dakota thought about it the more he became increasingly frustrated by the entire situation. For all of the women that he took home he never received an ill word about his technique in bed. And there were a lot. Of women, that is. So many that he wouldn’t be able to suggest a number. The thing was, he could pleasure a woman for hours and yet never seem to feel satisfied. He did all the work and got nothing in return besides an overactive unapologetic libido. Was that fair? Absolutely not, Dakota surmised.

Nope. The problem was most definitely not him. Dakota thought as gulped down yet another shot of whiskey. By this point he finished the bottle and was starting to get a slight buzz. It must have been the poor choice of women. It’s the only logical explanation that Dakota could think of. Especially since he’s always treated his share of lovers fairly. He never offered more than what he could handle and he always made sure they understood that before he took things any further.

Yes. Of course. It was so obvious. Why didn’t he see it before? He wasn’t the one to blame for his untimely predicament. Too bad he couldn’t find anyone in this bar that intrigued him. In fact, he shouldn’t be here at all. What he should be doing is releasing the weeks’ worth of pent up aggression instead of waiting in a bar like some poor ugly schmuck who just got shot down.  

He was wasting his time sitting here in the bar lodge. That much was painfully obvious. Even the bar tender- a pack member of his, who kept re-filling his glass every so often, would throw sympathetic looks his way. It certainly wasn’t every day that the alpha got stood up. In fact, he couldn’t remember one instance in which he was ever treated with such blatant disrespect. It made his blood boil with rage. And, to think, all of this trouble just to ease the tension with a neighboring pack. One thing was for sure; if he ever saw them again he would seriously reconsider doing business with them.

By this point Dakota was starting to think that this whole truce act was a complete disaster. Even the council members thought it was a bad idea from the beginning. Being the progressive leader that he was, he wanted to make an alliance and stop the bloodshed between the two feuding packs. They had bigger problems than silly petty disagreements; like the human who wanted to buy their land for some big city development. Dakota wasn’t about to let that happen. He thought the neighboring pack would want to help keep the humans away from their territory but he was wrong. Now he has to come up with a way to save the land all by himself. The last thing he wanted to do was relocate. His family lived here for generations and as result they were a relatively solid pack because of it. There had to be a way out of this. He just needed to come up with a good plan was all.

"Yo! Earth to alpha!" Paul waved a hand in front of Dakotas face.

Dakota shook his head in a blurry daze. He knew consuming alcohol in this current setting was risky. It took took a lot of energy just to keep his mind shut from the other members of his pack. With his defenses down he needed to be careful. He couldn’t risk anyone finding out what his real motives behind making peace were just yet. "What?" Dakota looked at Paul.

The serious expression on Paul’s face immediately caught Dakota’s attention. "I tried linking to you but for some reason I couldn’t reach you." Paul eyed him for a moment and then focused his gaze around the bar.  

The tone of Paul’s voice instantly alerted Dakota that something was not right. "What is it?" Dakota demanded in his alpha tone.

There was a slight moment’s hesitation before Paul spoke up again. "They’re here." he said.

Dakota looked around and sniffed the air. Paul was right. He could detect a couple of unfamiliar werewolves on his territory. He just didn’t know how many because he was still under the effects of the liquor.

A few moments later three men came busting through the joint like they had every right to be there. Dakota stayed on the stool where he was and observed their behavior from afar. He wanted to see what they would do and just how far they would go to create a scene. 

Dakota could sense the once laid back attitude in the bar change. By this point the members in Dakotas pack were all standing up and more than ready for a fight.     

Dakota mind linked for them to stay where they were. The last thing he needed right now was to have a senseless war on his hands. The neighboring pack weren’t their enemies. It was the humans Dakota was more worried about.

The other alpha walked further into the bar with his two betas and sniffed the air until he caught sight of Dakota sitting at the counter. (It wasn’t that hard to tell who the alpha in a pack was- besides their blue eyes, the alpha held a certain aura that carried a particular scent along with it.) The alpha stood before Dakota wearing a smug expression on his face. Dakota had no idea what the alphas name was. It was odd because he knew practically every alpha running along the western hemisphere. Even so, the werewolf in front of him looked no older than a pup. "So. This is the almighty alpha. For some reason I thought you’d be taller."

Dakota could feel the nerve in his jaw tick.

The only thing that kept Dakota from falling into a trap was one particular scent that filled the air. It was faint, but it was enough to distract him. He couldn’t tell what that smell was, exactly, and that irritated him.

Paul stood up with his arms crossed over his chest. "You have some nerve disrespecting my alpha that way."

The rest of Dakotas pack stood in formation just in case something went down. At this point all of that booze was starting to give Dakota a headache. He wanted nothing more than to lie between his sheets and sleep away the effects of a hangover. But he couldn’t do that when the other pack was hell bent on wasting his time.

The pup in front of him laughed. "I see. Should I kneel and let you pet my fur too?"

Dakotas’ omega, Lance, growled at the insult.

Dakota sighed inwardly.

Honestly. At the rate this was going they were getting nowhere. He didn’t understand why the other pack was there in the first place. It was obvious their alpha wasn’t interested in negotiating to anything.    

Dakota stood up from his seat and locked eyes with the alpha pup. "Enough!" Dakota said in his alpha tone.

Dakota knew he could take the pup down with no problem but he wasn’t in the mood to get his hands dirty.

"You came here to talk right? So let’s talk." Dakota growled.

BUMMER SUMMER- chapter 1

ok so this is my new story. (not too sure about the title though.)

 chapter 1:

I could hear the many excited voices around me. I sat at my usual spot to the far side of the room. The place wasn't packed, as expected, and I immediately gained comfort in my surroundings.

The shrill of a bell rang in the air.

I looked behind me.

It was just a customer probably coming in for supper before it turned dark. (that was the thing about Glendale; everyone did the same thing every day. so, if you ate a piece of apple pie and a slice of cheddar cheese for dessert that’s exactly what you got each time you came here.)

It definitely made things predictable, and lately, that exactly what I needed.

I was at my usual hangout: Sal's Diner.

My best friend, Trixie, sat with perfect posture, directly across from me in her little white sun flower dress that made her boobs look big even though they were running on the small side. Her long candy-apple red hair was framed in a jumbled mess around her face. It looked like she came out of some photo shoot, except for the part where she didn’t have any make-up on. If you asked me, she looked way better without it. I liked a girl who was confident enough to go out of the house without putting a bunch of crap on her face. Plus, it smears off anyways. So, really, what’s the point?

Our knees were touching, just barely, which, I suspect, was her way of getting my attention.

I didn’t move my knee like I usually would have. Instead, I leaned forward and invaded her personal space like some crazy ex-stalker.

She blushed and turned her head away from me. (This was our usual game of chicken. except for the part where I would be the first to fold.) From where I was I could smell her perfume. It was sweet. And smelled like cookies.

I grinned at her. I secretly enjoyed teasing her, but something told me that I should stop. Too bad I never listened to the rational part of my brain.

Before I realized what I was doing, I brushed a strand of her red hair away from her face. She looked shocked, like she didn’t understand what I was doing. I ignored her uncertainty and looked into her eyes; they were a nice deep shade of green with tiny flecks of dark blue just around the iris. She looked more than confused, she looked insecure. I wondered what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

I watched as she shamelessly looked down at my lips and I couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

I wasn’t blind. I knew she was beautiful. Give me a break. I was a guy, after all. I had needs too. Not that I would ever take advantage of her, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t flirt with her from time to time.

Although, something told me this time was different. Don’t get me wrong, I knew what I was doing was wrong.

She wasn’t my type, and I didn’t want to hurt her.

Trixie bit her bottom lip and blushed a deep shade of pink. It was cute. And, yeah, I’ll admit, it was nice that I had such an effect on her. But I knew when I was getting in too deep. I couldn’t go any further, or else I'd regret it.

So, instead of going all the way, I sat back in my seat instead, and took a long sip of my ice cream soda- it was fuzzy and tasted like an orange-sickle.) What? I was seventeen but I still felt like a kid at heart.

Trixie cleared her throat and distracted herself by messing around with the food on her plate. She didn’t look hungry. That was not a good sign.

I groaned. Good going, Alex. You just made things awkward.

I looked behind me at the round clock on the wall. The black dials indicated it was just past three o' clock. At this point I wanted to anywhere else. Even stacking boxes at the grocery store sounded appealing. I wasn’t a coward; I just didn’t want Trixie to think anything of our little 'moment'. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I was confusing and never thought about anyone else besides myself.

I didn’t know what the hell that was supposed to mean. Most of the girls I dated were so complicated. I never understood them. One moment they wanted your dick inside of them, the next moment they wanted you to respect them like some deity or something. I mean, c'mon, give a guy a break. I’m only human. I wanted sex. not a relationship.

Coincidentally enough, Trixie was the only girl at my school who talked to me. And, from where I sat, it looks like I just ruined our friendship because of my stupidity.

I turned my attention back to my small group. Trixie was staring at me with a thoughtful expression. "How do gay men have sex?" she asked. Trixie was downright straightforward, sometimes a little too straightforward.

I wasn’t ignoring her. I just didn’t know how to answer that particular question. As a matter of fact, I didn’t understand her newfound interest in the subject.

This was a family diner for crying out loud.

God forbid if someone we knew overheard us talking. The last thing I needed was a house call from father Jim. (Having him over for thanksgiving every year was brutal enough.) Plus, I kind of had a good thing going with salt and I didn't want to ruin it just because Trixie was being a prude.

Nobody made my usual order quite like Sal did. (and, sure, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms- mainly because Sal didn’t ever talk to anyone, ever. but, on occasion, he would grunt in my direction; an act which I took as progress. it was kind of a big deal to me because Sal never acknowledged anyone. he wasn’t mean. he just wasn’t very social, is all.)

Trixie stared at me, completely silent, with one eyebrow raised.

After some time it became quite clear that she wasn’t letting it go any time soon.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Just like a man and woman would, I suppose." was the only thing that came to mind. It felt like I was having the birds and the bees talk all over again. Except this time my mom wasn’t demonstrating in the living room with her sex Ed dummies as guides.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "no. dummy." she reached across the table for a curly fry- I wasn’t in the mood to eat. Not even if it was a bucket of double battered fries.

Trixie was petite, but she had one hell of an appetite. (Playing baseball did help burn all of those calories, I suppose. it’s a good thing, too. no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t picture what a chubby Trixie would look like.)

I wasn’t an avid sports jockey like my friends but I did go to the gym whenever I could. Once I turned pre-pubescent my grandmother got me a gym membership. "where else do ya think yer gonna grow them muscles, boy?", was her way of acknowledging the fact that I would never follow my father’s footsteps- he was a town legend who won state two consecutive years in a row. It was a big deal back then. To this day some people still talk about it.

When I entered high school everyone kind of expected me to join the football team. No one was happier than my mom when I didn’t.

I watched, in horror, as Trixie drenched a big gigantic curly fry in a pool of katsup- which wasn’t even katsup. It was Sal’s version of a condiment that came with almost any item on the menu. It consisted heavily on mayonnaise, garlic, horseradish, and lemon. I didn’t quite care for it. In my opinion, the horseradish was a little over the top.

"I mean, like, how do you know whose turn it is to be bottom? Doesn’t it get, I dunno, confusing?" she asked in between taking small bites of the drenched curly fry.

No matter how modernized the place was, I didn’t think the good people of Glendale would welcome such a heated topic any time soon.

Proposition 8 was very much an issue that no one ever to talked about around here. I knew quite a few people who wouldn’t hesitate to quote the bible. (which was funny because no one in Glendale was very religious in the first place. we had one church that sat on a small hill, right next to the elementary, that was always empty. still, that never stopped father Jim from going to mass every Sunday. according to him, someone had to pray for the damned souls every week.)

"Ugh! Enough already." my other best friend Danny moaned. He was sitting next to the double pained window, right across from me.

He didn’t look so good at the moment. It kind of looked like he was about to puke. (I wasn’t so sure if it was because of the topic our conversation had suddenly turned, or because of the two jumbo burgers he managed to scarf down in less than ten minutes.)

You see, that was the thing about Danny; he always had something in his mouth. He took the meaning 'two stomachs' to a whole other level. It’s a good thing he was a football player. Otherwise, I would have gotten him a gym membership for his birthday instead of a new game controller. (This was the second one I bought for him. conveniently, the last one broke during a mission to rescue earth from the aliens.)

"Give it a rest, already, trix. Leave the poor guy alone." Danny said in a poor attempt to defend me.

We knew each other since elementary, back when I double dared a then freckled Danny to eat a stick of glue. (If you haven’t guessed, Trixie is the one who offered up her glue stick.)

So I knew, more or less, how this was going to end.

Trixie looked at Danny and raised her eyebrow at him. (it was a very classic move that Trixie did whenever she was on a roll. it was a good thing she wasn’t on the debate team. although, I had a sneaky suspicion they rejected her application to become a member. the debate team was a big thing, right up there next to football. so, I guess it would make sense that Trixie would want to join a group of stuck up nerds and argue over topics that nobody really cared about anyway.)

"What? Do you have a problem with gay people?" Trixie demanded.

Danny rolled his eyes upwards. "Enough woman! Of course not. My best friend is gay. Or don’t you remember?" he asked.

Honestly. This was getting out of hand. I couldn’t let this argument go on. Especially if I wanted to keep my good standing with Sal.

Danny burped, quite loud, even for him.

I was impressed and a little disturbed at the same time.

Trixie wrinkled her nose in protest. "Honestly. You’re disgusting."

Danny grinned. "Dude, did you hear that? That was awesome."

Trixie turned her attention from a very accomplished looking Danny to me. "Why can’t I sit next to you, Alex?" Trixie whined.

I must admit, she pulled the puppy dog face quite well. Too bad for her I knew when I was being played.

Danny sobered up real quick after that. It was obvious that his feelings were hurt. You see, Danny had more than just a crush on Trixie. I suspected the reason he never dated was because of his unrequited love.

If you asked me, Danny was a pussy who needed to man up before someone else did.

The problem was Trixie kind of liked someone else at the moment. And unfortunately that someone was me. The only reason I knew was because her older brother, tom, told me during our Christmas holiday. In his defense, he was drunk off his ass. For as big as he is he sure can’t hold his liquor. The funny thing was, he forgot all about it after he sobered up. And it wasn’t like I was about to open that can of worms, ever.

Besides, it would never work out between Trixie and me. Of course, she knew that, too.

"Honestly, guys, can we just forget about it, please?" I didn’t want today to be all about me. Especially since Trixie is the one who set this whole thing up. Speaking of...."what was so important that couldn’t wait?" I asked her.

That immediately got Trixie’s attention. She leaned in- (which caused both me and Danny to lean in as well). By this point we probably looked like three teenagers who were up to no good. And, to be fair, we kind of were.

"So. You remember my cousin I was telling you about?" she whispered.

We had no idea why she was whispering but we went along with it anyway.

We both nodded our heads, eager for her to get on with it already. She’s mentioned him once or twice. I didn’t know her cousin, but I could tell she really cared for him.

Trixie grinned like she just won an ice cream eating contest. "Well, he’s coming here for the summer." she exclaimed.

Danny snorted. "That’s it?"

I had to admit; even I was pretty unimpressed by 'the big news'.

Danny leaned back in his seat and put his arm over the back of Trixie’s chair. "You couldn’t tell us this over the phone? I was in the middle of a tremors marathon!"

You see what I’m talking about? The poor bastard was whipped. And he probably didn’t even realize it.

Trixie narrowed her green eyes at him. "I didn’t tell you to come, now did I?"

"You said it was life or death!"

Trixie looked at him like he was a blubbering idiot who just now learned how to tie his shoes. "Get over it already! I bet you recorded it anyway." she said dismissively.

Danny blushed a nice shade of pink that went all the way to the tips of his ears. His reaction reminded me that of a pre-pubescent getting caught jacking off for the very first time. It was awkward. Tense. And incredibly embarrassing to witness.

Danny was a pretty cocky guy who didn’t get embarrassed easily. All of those years in football camp molded him into a winning team player. Too bad it did nothing to soothe his self-confidence around the object of his wet fantasy.

Danny turned real quiet after that and turned his attention to the blue sedan that passed by the diner.

Trixie smiled for the first time today. Clearly, she was happy that she won that argument. For now. It was only a matter of time before they butted heads again.

Trixie flipped her curly hair to the side and fixed her attention to me. "I need your help." she demanded

I lifted an eyebrow. Oh really now?

Trixie was a lot of things; smart, outgoing, and deceivingly conniving to name a few. She rarely ever asked for help. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time that she ever came to me for advice. These days, it seemed like I was the one with issues that, according to her, were way more important. She was my best friend and I wanted to be there for her. So it was only natural that I gave in.

"What’s up?" I asked.

"My dad wants me to keep my cousin company while he’s here."

"oookkaay." I didn’t understand what the problem was. They were related. How hard could it be to get along with a family member that wasn’t a spoiled potty-training toddler?

"Don’t you think you’re over-reacting a little bit? He’s a guy, trix. We aren’t that different from girls; give him plenty of video games, junk food, and porn flicks. Trust me. He’ll be stuck in the guest room for days."

Trixie lifted her finger like she was about to give a lecture. I snorted at the very idea of getting scolded by a midget. "First of all; there are so many reasons why your idea is terrible, not to mention misguided. Dad wants him to stay out of trouble. Not lock himself inside like some sex-crazed hermit."

Another customer came in through the door with her growing family. I watched as they walked past us to the furthest table near the restroom.

"So, basically, you’re babysitting your legal teenage cousin?" I asked. I felt bad for the guy. Knowing Ms. Booze Kill, she would take her responsibility seriously. Honestly, how do you expect someone to get drunk off of one bottle of beer? It’s never happened. But that’s Trixie for you.

Trixie finished eating the curly fries and was now working her way through my mozzarella sticks.

Her cheeks were sticking out like small balloons. She reminded me of a chipmunk. A really cute chipmunk. "yup." she mumbled through a mouthful of cheese.

She took a bite of the last mozzarella stick, causing a huge chunk of the mozzarella cheese to ooze out in one long string. I watched, fascinated, as she tilted her head backward and stuffed the whole thing in her mouth. I knew I was being rude by staring but I couldn’t help myself. It was kind of erotic.

I coughed in my fist and scolded myself for my wandering thoughts. Honestly, what was wrong with me lately?

"So what do you think?" Trixie asked me out of nowhere.

"What do I think about what?" I asked, confused by her comment.

"Seriously? What, did you get amnesia during the last twenty seconds or something? Are you gonna help me with my cousin or not?" she asked.

"Why do you want my help? I don’t even know the guy!"

Trixie smiled causing a dimple to show. "Because you’re a good guy who helps his friends when they’re in trouble." she said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

I groaned.

Honestly. Out of everyone she could have asked why did she come to me? Oh, yeah. I forgot. Because I was the 'good guy'. Trixie obviously didn’t know me very well, now did she?

A bell rang clear in the air, alerting Sal that yet another customer had entered the diner. I didn’t turn around this time. I had better things to do. Like fight with my winning conscience.

Danny whistled. "Damn, look at that babe."

I happily turned my attention from Trixie to the window, glad that I was momentarily distracted from answering her. If I was lucky she would forget about the whole thing.

The sun was starting to set, giving off a faint orange tint in the sky. The clouds were a red-ish color. If I had my camera I would’ve taken a picture of the natural landscape. (I was the photo club president every year. I wasn’t really that good. But, then again, there weren't a lot of club members to go around in the first place.) The parking lot wasn’t that packed. It was a Tuesday, after all. For some unknown reason Tuesdays were always slow.

From where I sat, I could see at the shiny black motorcycle that was parked right next to the handicapped space. It was no secret that Danny loved anything with wheels. So I wasn’t that surprised to see what could grab his short attention span.

I didn’t know much about motorcycles, but I could tell that was a bike to be proud of. Even I was a little envious. I couldn’t wait until I got my own set of wheels. That would be the day I got out of Glendale for good.

Trixie rolled her eyes in irritation. "boys." she muttered under her breath. I detected a hint of a smile forming on her lips. Clearly she was just as impressed as we were.

I took a sip of my soda to distract myself from the silence. Trixie was busy texting someone on her cell phone. And Danny was, well, being Danny. He was lost in his own world, staring out the window like a kid watching cartoons for the very first time.

I didn’t mind the silence. It was nice to have some alone time where my thoughts could just wander off to nowhere in particular. But then, all of a sudden, my mind wandered in a different direction. Suddenly, I wasn’t in the diner. I was naked, lying in someone else’s bed, having sex with a complete stranger.

Okay. So maybe a little alone time is exactly what I didn’t need. I didn’t regret it. At least, not totally. But my double life was starting to meld into this one. It was getting dangerous. Once my family learned all of the things I have done they will look at me differently. I didn’t know what to do. Or how to stop it, for that matter. One thing was for sure; I needed to get out of my head.

All I knew was, we had one more year until we graduated. Personally, I couldn’t wait. Then again, I didn’t know anyone who was hell bent on staying in Glendale after graduation.

It was summer break and that only meant one thing.

I was going to be slaving for next two and a half months at the grocery store. It would definitely keep me busy and that’s exactly what I needed. It was the family business. And my dad was damn proud of it, too. For the last 11 months or so I had a plausible excuse that compromised heavily on homework, studying, and going to the gym.

The only way I could get out of it now was if I joined the football team. And we all knew that was never going to happen. Sure, I was athletic, but I didn’t have the passion for it like Danny did. I figured if I was going to dedicate myself in anything it would be for something that I actually enjoyed doing.

I looked around the diner at the familiar blue and white checkered decor. Everything was in different shades of blue, and white. (I figured Sal must have really liked the color blue.) I didn’t mind it, myself. It reminded me of the ocean. The closest thing Glendale had to an ocean was the lake just off of Bixby Street. I used to go their every summer as a child. Not many people went their anymore. I wasn’t sure why, but I suspected it was just another side effect of growing up.

A lot has changed ever since Sal inherited the diner from his parents. You see, Sal was this talented chef who traveled all over the world to places like New York, Mexico, and even Hawaii on one occasion. (In this small town, that made him an accomplished celebrity in our eyes.)

When his dad suffered a massive heart attack Sal took over the family diner. That was seven years ago. Ever since then Sal’s diner has kind of become the popular hot spot for kids like us. Although, right now, it looked a little bit deserted despite the light incoming traffic of hungry customers.

I took my phone out of my pocket and turned on the screen. Just as I suspected, I got another text. This time it was from my mom.

Sweetie, don’t be l8te 4 work. I hope u brought a jacket. It’s going to be cold la8r on. I’d h8te 4 u to get sick.

Love,

Mom. Xoxo

Ever since we got that new cell phone plan mom has been texting me every day. I can tell she’s getting the hang of it.

"Who are you texting?" Trixie asked out of nowhere.

I looked up from my phone and noticed Trixie staring at me with a comical expression.

"No one." I mumbled.

To my surprise she shrugged and let the conversation go. I quickly texted my mom back and let her know that I did, indeed, have a jacket. My mom was a lot of things, but she never failed to show that she loved me. I’ll admit, I didn’t mind her checking up on me even though it got annoying sometimes.

I put my phone back in my pocket.

Trixie looked behind me and smiled from ear to ear. She quickly hopped out of her seat and motioned to the person standing behind me.

I turned around in my seat.

A guy I didn’t recognize walked over to the group and introduced himself as Liam.

I could tell he was out of his element just by the way he dressed. It looked like he was from the big city and conveniatnly got his car stuck in a ditch in the middle of some small hick town.

"Guys, this is my cousin." Trixie happily announced.

Danny was the first to introduce himself. "Sup, man. The names Danny" I wasn’t really surprised. That was Danny for you. He was nice to everyone.

I felt someone’s eyes on me and I looked up. It was Liam staring right at me. I think he was trying to get my attention for a while judging from the looks I was getting.

I looked in his eyes. They were almost the same color as Trixie’s but lighter. I always liked the color of Trixie’s eyes. They weren’t like anyone else’s around here, that was for sure. I knew he was trixies cousin and all but I wasn’t exactly in the mood to entertain a gupie. I mumbled 'hi' and continued finishing my soda. I was disappointed that the ice cream was melting and the soda was getting warm.

Trixie narrowed her eyes at me. I already knew I would get an earful from her later on. I figured I might as well finish my four dollars and twenty-five cents worth.

Liam motioned at the chair next to me. "Is that seat taken?" he asked

I shrugged. "Go ahead."

He maneuvered around Trixie and pulled the chair from under the table. His cologne was overpowering. Honestly. Who did this guy think he was? This was Glendale for crying out loud. No self-respecting man would choose to smell like some exotic fragrance willingly.

I scraped my chair to side, as far away from liam as I could get- too bad it screeched and caused a few heads to turn in the process. I didn’t mind that people were staring at me. I liked my personal space. Well, that, and the fact that I felt nausus form liam’s perfume. I figured I was doing the busboy a favor.

"so.", Trixie began. I think she was pissed off at me but I couldn’t really tell. "Are you hungry?" she asked Liam.

"I could eat." To my surprise liam took up half of our side of the table. Honestly, What did he parents feed him as a young boy?

Trixie beamed and got up from her seat. "I’ll be right back." I watched as she skipped to the cash register at the other side of the room. I knew it was gonna be a while because there was a small line ahead of her.

If you asked me, I thought it was a bad idea to leave the three of us alone. Nobody said anything for a while. But, as expected, Danny was the one to break the silence. "What do you think of Glendale?" he asked. That was typical of Danny. Friendly to a fault.

Liam shrugged. "Honestly? It’s smaller than I remember."

That interested me because I didn’t remember him around. "You’ve been here before?" I asked.

Liam focused his steady gaze on me. "Once or twice."

From the tone of his voice I could tell that he didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t say anything after that. I figured it was better to let it go. Besides, it wasn’t any of my business anyway.

Danny whistled at liams comment. Clearly Danny was a dense moron who didn’t know when to shut up. Even I would admit that Liam could probably kick my ass without much effort. That’s how in shape he was. To be honest, I was envious of the guy. It took me four years to get a six pack. What was this guy made of, steel?

Thankfully Trixie interrupted us just in time.

"Here you go." Trixie handed Liam a bucket completed with a bacon hamburger and curly fries.

"Thanks." Liam drenched a curly fry in the katsup and ate it. I was surprised that he actually liked the katsup. But, then again, he was Trixie’s cousin. So I guess it kind of made sense.  

Chasing Hellfire: chapter 1

I hit the computer on the side with the palm of my hand as if the mere physical act would somehow fix it.

When the screen stays frozen I push my chair back and throw my hands up in frustration. "Ugh!" I curse under my breath.

I narrow my eyes over the cubicle until I see the source of my irritation along with the rest of my silently fuming co-workers, who unsurprisingly enough are still trying to de-spell the locked pop-up screen that’s preventing anyone from getting any work done. Each time they try mustering up a new spell the intended magic that is sent to the computer frizzes out and static bounces back to the spell caster, shocking the person with a loud and resigned ‘pop’ that makes the small hairs on my forearms stand up on end.

Of average height and short brown hair that’s currently slicked back with enough gel it should be considered a fashion don't and a highly annoying melodic laugh that resembles wind chimes, Davey Jensen is better known as a trickster outcast by choice who enjoys creating havoc everywhere he goes. It's safe to say that nobody is at the mercy of the troubled leprechaun without feeding his insatiable apatite for chaos and destruction.  
 
As if working at the Supernatural Agency department for the criminally wicked and sometimes socially unstable isn’t bad enough.

Sensing my hatred from afar Jensen lifts his head up and over the cubicle, allowing me to see a hint of amusement glinting in his strikingly vivid blue eyes. He lifts a perfectly arched blonde eyebrow as if innocently asking 'what did I do'. I guess he could be considered good looking but it's his shitty attitude that keeps people away.

I roll my eyes and thrust a well-manicured fore-finger at him. "Jensen, if you don’t stop elector-circuiting the damn computers I'm going to show you the true meaning of hump day!" I warn menacingly, my voice filled with as much venom as I can muster. Which isn't a difficult task considering the shitty day I've had.

Normally the mortal catch phrase would be comically appreciated but the a/c is currently busted and unfortunately not even the small amount of plug-in fans are providing cool air in the boiling cubicle area that's full of creatures with hypersensitive nostrils who can pick up even the faintest whiff of scents basking in the heat.

For a split second Jensen looks astonished like he truly can't believe someone would accuse him. Much less put him on the spot. Puh-leaze. Everyone knows the leprechaun gets a sick thrill out of tricking other people. That's what he does. He feeds off of the chaos and the anxiety that, at this very moment, is radiating in waves much like the spicy scent of Aqva Pour Homme by BVLGARI the person sitting next to me has on.
I wouldn’t doubt the accusations about Jensen being a masochist either. Not that I would try it out for myself, of course.

Personally, I’m not into BDSM. I cursed the last guy a good dose of lice for even suggesting such a thing. Let's just say he wasn't able to have a 'good time' for a while. I learned my lesson though. That's the last time I go on a blind date. He was a preschool teacher and looked harmless enough, until the sick bastard tried to put a collar around my neck.

Who said I was the bitch in the relationship anyway?

If anything I would be the dom because there's no way in hell would I let someone whip me bloody and raw.

I'll just stick to watching a rippling Vin Diesel on my flat screen with a tub of Ben & Jerry's thank you very much.

It’s bad enough Jensen flirts with me every chance that he can get. Either he's really stupid or just plain oblivious to my silent 'fuck off' gestures, which i've been painstankinkgly polite about by the way. Now that I think about it, I might be the only desk agent inside of the building on the second floor, besides our scaley boss Mr. Striker as well as HR, who hasn’t given in by the attention.

Jensen casually leans over the cubicle wall the separates us. His blue eyes go slightly wide in fake astonishment. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? I would gladly punish you for it." He states, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to say. As if the office to HR weren’t right across from us with its door wide open. Unfortunately, the only noise coming from the empty office is a soft whir from the laptop that's placed on top of the desk.

Honestly.

Where was Vince when you needed him?

I glance at the white clock behind the source of my headache.

I sigh in contempt.

Just ten more minutes and we can clock out.

That is, if we ever finish our last reports for the day. If not, we'll surely get an ear full about it tomorrow. And considering the fact that Mr. Striker is reduced to sleeping on the couch, yet again, no one will be safe from his scorching tongue.

I give the annoying leech that's right across from me a dull stare and stand up with my hands resting on my hips. Considering the look he's giving me right now that was a bad move on my part. I pretend not to notice the way he's eyeing the tight-fitting blouse and pencil skirt that I decided to wear that would be deemed socially acceptable for a date after work. Now I just feel self-conscious and am seriously regretting ever buying this outfit if it means getting looked at inappropriately like that from jackass Jensen.

I snap my fingers impatiently to gain his attention. His eyes finally trail up from my none too impressive b cup chest and back to meet my heated brown eyes. "Just fix it already. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to work overtime if I'm not getting paid for it.", I finally manage to say, exasperated by his childish and completely inappropriate behavior. Mr. Striker is a stickler about company policy and never pays us for overtime. It just isn't done. Ever. Even if it isn't our fault.

Unfortunately enough, Jensen is related to Mr. Striker by marriage. Of course, Mr. Striker is too scared of his father-in-law, who is the esteemed Chief of Police to get rid of Jensen. It must be awkward when they have family reunions.
It definitely makes my small family seem less dysfunctional that's for sure.

I glare at Jensen as he puffs a breath of air and rolls his eyes in his dramatic fashion. He says a couple of words in some ancient Celtic language that makes tongue-twisters sound easy. He stands up and grabs his grey wool coat that costs more than my outfit put together, and leans over the cubicle wall that we share.

"Tsk. You are no fun. Besides, it was just a harmless prank." he insists with a devilish grin. "You need to loosen up Dawson. You know where to find me if you change your mind." He winks and teleports out of the building, leaving green smoke trailing behind.

I suppress a disgusting shiver that travels down my spine at the mere suggestion of doing anything outside of work with the likes of him.

A few seconds later the computer screen turns blue and the incident is long forgotten as people start babbling on about verification codes, while others call dispatch to check in on their status.

Pleased by the turn of events, I sit back down at my desk and type out the rest of the paperwork according to what the field agent stated in his case report.

Apparently there was an attempt at petty theft at a coroner general store that is best known for selling potent liquor that could easily decapitate even the most strongest of werewolves. The perp, a young male named Alexandrus Dixel Jr., intended to burglarize a mom and pop store with a total of over forty dollars worth of liquor in merchandise plus the fifteen dollars in change taken from the cash register. After the store owner invested in a ATM cash register he's been getting more customers using their credit cards to pay for goods. Which sure explains why the perp only managed to attain such a small amount in cash.

According to the statement made by the cashier who was on duty standing behind the counter, the low-level demon shape shifter walked in with skittish demeanor that didn't seem suspicious at the time.

However, as the young male walked up to check-out he brandished an unauthorized blue ray pistol and demanded the cashier to dump everything from the register into his black gym bag. Tony, the night manager, was on a cigarette break and wanted a soda. As he walked back inside he noticed the cashier being held at gunpoint and managed to reach for his licensed automatic steel ray gun, effectively shooting the burglar in the left leg before calling the authorities.

Fortunately, no civilians were harmed during the attempted robbery.

The officer that responded to the call read the perp his meranda rights and arrested him before checking in with dispatch.

The cashier was startled and most likely is suffering from a slight case of ptsd.

Apparently the store owner gave us permission to view the security tapes which are currently being held as evidence in the storage unit downtown.

I glance down at the pristine file in my hand and roll my eyes at the elaborate signature located at the bottom.

It reads special agent Trevor Ackles in bold black ink.

He's a field agent officer with a bigger ego than Jensen.

What is he doing working low-level cases anyway?

He has more solved cases since Richard Dick Carlson.

He's good at his job i'll give him that.

And unfortunately for him, he knows it.

The only reason Mr. Striker puts up with the young field agent is because of the amount of perps he racks in.

At the annual hall of conferences last year, the C.O.P recognized the S A agency by brandishing agent Carlson with yet another gold star, making it a total of three stars that he has received to date.

Hmmm....This is interesting.

It doesn't show his partners signature.

I guess what they say is true. He is a lone agent.

Ever since the death of his long time partner he refuses to work with anyone because they will just 'get in his way'. Last I heard Bordero, a transfer agent, was assigned to work with him. I wonder what happened to the poor guy.

If it were anyone else Mr. Striker would have demoted the officer to the mass weaponry unit; which is just a dusty place where they do remedial work, mostly auditing old evidence and unclaimed items that are sent from the storage unit downtown in order to make room for the more fresh cases.

While I was in the academy I wanted nothing more than to work in the field and make a name for myself like my mother before me. Even though I studied hard and mastered every potions test I found out the hard way that real life was much different than just studying the necessary courses in my line of work.

I have requested a countless number of times to be assigned an out-of-desk job. But each time I get rejected. I'm not sure why. I show up to work early and concentrate on my work as opposed to my co-workers who goof off every chance they get and yet I still receive a black stamp.

I'll admit I stopped asking Mr. Striker why he won’t accept any of my transfers. The last time I did he burned down the door to his office. If I didn’t duck my head in time my hair would have been singed in the process. My hairdresser D’Angelo would have charged a fortune just to tame it back down. And as much as I adore the freakishly tall pixie with magical fingers, he pays 350 an hour. I would go broke before the end of the month.

After reviewing the notes on the screen in front of me one last time, I click send and log out of the computer, officially clocking out for the day. I grab my small black purse and hike it up my shoulder, pushing the chair in and turning off the lamp that sits in the corner of my desk.

I place the file in the bin that sits on the wall along with the others that have collected throughout my shift so that it can be collected first thing tomorrow morning.

Looking around I notice a small handful of co-workers either finishing up or clearing their cubicle of paperwork and pens.

I grab my purple blazer from the coat hanger and fold it over my forearm as I walk past the rows of organized cubicles that are for the most part dark and empty, save the few who are staying late catch up. I glance to the right and notice the blinds are closed to the HR office which only means one thing, sometime during the past few minutes while I was finishing up my quota Vince must have turned in for the night and headed home.

Damn. I missed the look on Daniels face when he was turned down by the tightly wound-up Vince.

Oh well. I'll get the full report tomorrow when I collect my winnings.

I grin. Leather boots here I come.

I push the chrome button and wait, humming a soft tune under my breath, while the door to the elevator opens swiftly with a loud 'ding'.

I walk inside the elevator and gravioucsly hold the door open as a few stragglers walk in, effectively pushing me towards the back where the glass shows my reflection in the mirror.

I push a stray lock of brown hair behind my ear that managed to escape the bun on top of my head.

With a grimace I look at my tired reflection staring back at me.

I look like crap.

Maybe I should cancel that date. I could say that my cat got sick, but then I would need to get a cat. No. That lie wouldn't work. I could say I was sick. But then Thalia would stop by my apartment and then she would know I was lying. The way I see it either way I'm screwed. Oh well. If nothing else I might as well get a free meal out of it.

I glance at the silver watch on my wrist. If I walk at a fast pace I might get to my destination in less than twenty minutes. That should give Thalia enough time to pick up her friend and meet me at our rendezvous point by 6:30.

Once we stop at the garage level the elevator dings and the doors open, letting the cool October air breeze inside allowing us fresh air for the first time all day. At once everyone piles out in a hurry to get home, leaving me the last one to step out of the now empty elevator.

With a heavy sigh that escapes past my chapped lips I start walking towards the Green Tavern, a place where all the locals go to unwind after a tedious day at work.

Demonika: Preface

Whitchurch, England


There wasn't much time left.

 
If he wanted to get out he needed to escape. And fast.　
 

       From a nearby distance he could hear the echoes of rushed footsteps and loud angry voices coming from the south corridor hall; a handmade tunnel made out of mud and stone that he knew all too well.
　
       In just a few minutes the soldiers would break through the barrier and catch up to him. If he didn't hurry he would be put to death for treason; an act that would last for days, ensuring he receive the proper punishment for his crime.
 
       The painful truth of it was, he was scheduled to set sail back to his homeland tonight. His orders were straightforward and simple enough, which left no room for error. He was to return with or without evidence within a fortnight.
 
His time was up and he had nothing.
　
       Staying was dangerous. He knew that, too, of course. Receiving word of the Annual Winter Ball gave him the chance to see what the red blooded serpentine Royals were up to.
 
He even wore his finest suite just for the special occasion. Now it all seemed silly.

He risked everything just for the chance to catch the glimpse of the one thing that momentarily blinded him.
 
He was a dutiful soldier. One of the best, in fact. He was considered loyal, even.
 
And yet here he stood on enemy territory, searching for a lifeline. One that, much to his dismay, was no where in sight.
 
An unfamiliar sensation crept upon him, a dreadful revelation. It seemed almost too easy. He hated to admit that it was the perfect capture.
 
       The eagerly awaited celebration was a masked formal ball, which gave the chance of an easy out, just in case he needed it. But along the way something went horribly wrong. He didn't understand it but somehow, they knew it was him behind the black mask. 
 
For a moment they had the element of surprise.
 
Luckily he was trained for espionage which made him cunningly deceiving.
 
       It took some time but he managed to make it through the service kitchen; he barely escaped prying hands and was able to skilfully dodge concerned glances of the loyal help who would die to protect their king. It was by pure dumb luck and a few wrong turns that he made it all the way up to the balcony without being stopped.
 
The night was harsh. Winter had reached England early.
 

He looked around, searching for a way out.
 

       The balcony stretched to the other end of the castle. It overlooked the cold icy River Test and just beyond that were mountainous hills that he was sure were filled with handwoven traps that were meant to subdue him.
 

He placed his hands on top of the cool stone railing and leaned forward. 


       From what he could tell the murky water held a thin layer of ice on top of it. There were a few large boulders to the side of the outer wall but he doubt that he could free fall without making much noise. To the side of the river were a few dead trees with icicles hanging from the branches. The high pitched wind shook the trees violently in mother natures outrage.     
 
       His wool petticoat flapped against the wind in protest. It was his favorite coat that molded perfectly against his broadened shoulders. The gold and silver fashioned brass buttons were unbuttoned to the hem line and exposed his chest to the vengeful attack of the piercing wind.

The prickling in his neck informed him that he was not alone on the balcony as he first thought.
 
No. He couldn't deny it any longer. He felt a presence behind him.
 

He stood completely still, with his feet planted firmly in place.
 

He took one last glance back and felt a horrible pain of recognition.
 
       There she was, standing before him. For the whole night he tried his best to stay away from her. He wanted to shield her from the danger that he himself created. And yet it seems that she knew more about their bond than she was willing to first admit. 

       Otherwise, she would not have found herself outside, in the blistering cold, with him, an outlaw. Suddenly every encounter that they ever had over the lifespan of centuries bombarded him with an equal amount of sadness and unbridled joy. He kept the memories hidden deep within him and now they were demanding to be let out. 
 
       It was true that she was stunningly beautiful. After all, it was her beauty that entranced men from all over the world. For some unknown reason this lifetime kept her bound to the Royals. Kept her away from him.
 
In spite of everything she dared to take a step closer to him.
 
       The light from the moon cascaded down on her face and illuminated the soft traces of her fresh porcelain skin, plump rosy lips, and her delicate feminine body.
 
He shamelessly drank in every detail of her that he could.
 
       There she stood before him in her elegant white ball gown. There was a cloud of uncertainty that masked in her eyes. It was as if she were having an inner conflict within herself, one where her logic and intuition were at war with each other. 

"Do I know you?" she asked. Her melodic voice was soft and sweet. sensual even.

       He could fall asleep peacefully just to the sound of her voice alone. The hint of doubt in her question pained him to no end. She didn't remember. She couldn't. That was their fate. To find each other and be forced apart again and again. It was a vicious and unfair cycle.  One that he was getting rather sick of.
 
       For the first time in this century he felt pain stricken. He didn't think he would find her again. For all he knew, she completed her soul cycle without him. And yet, here she was, of all places. Telling her the truth was not an option. There wasn't enough time to try and explain what they meant to each other.

"Will you come with me?" he asked. And again he knew the answer.
 
Every lifetime they had together was different. But it always ended in the same way. No, of course she wouldn't go with him. She was bound to the land.
 
Her father made sure of that.

"Will I see you again?" she asked hopefully.
 
       He smiled faintly at the longing in her voice. Even if she didn't understand what was happening she must have felt the powerful pull just as he did. She had too. He was sure of it.
 
He looked into her captivating grey eyes. "I will find you again. I promise."
 
       And with that he jumped off the balcony and dove straight into the depths of the frozen river. Her screams were the last thing that he heard before he plunged underwater. 

soon, my love. soon. he thought before he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Trillium- chapter 1

In the early year of 2029 Earth was plagued by The Great Destruction.

No one knows why or how it started. Some blamed global warming while other more religious groups proclaimed it was the end of the world as we knew it.

It happened so fast that nobody could stop it. At first there was a steady decline in crops because of a world-wide drought that eventually wiped out all livestock and cut the supply of raw materials drastically. Famine was inevitable. It dropped life expectancy by more than a decade. There was death and destruction in every part of the world. Except one place. Trillium, a country in the Northern part of the content that was once known as Canada.

Everyone sought refuge in the last known safe haven. Only a few passed the rigorous screening process and were granted asylum.

It didn't take long for the rest of the world to be overthrown by the Zeffer- an elite group of specially enhanced agents with pure essence that run through their veins.

No one is sure exactly when the Final War ended. Depending on who you ask some say the war lasted four days, the amount of time it took for the Zeffer to gain control of what was once known as America.

Others argue the Final War lasted a total of twelve days, when a Treaty of Rights was officially enacted.

As result, the delusive government restructured the population and enhanced their genetics. Not everyone survived. Then again, not everyone was meant to.

Mankind has lived in Peace and Prosperity for two decades.....

"What a load of crap....", I mumble softly.

I don't know why mother makes me read this book every night before I go to bed. If she did it purposefully just so I would fall asleep then she succeeded. As if getting quizzed in the morning on The Letter of Laws wasn't bad enough! Father isn't any better. It doesn't help that he is the commanding officer and works right beside the General.

I put the brown weathered worn out book that's twice the size of my palm in its rightful place, back under the wobbly leg of my bed where it belongs. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, depending on which way you look at it, my parents are unaware of the state in which I treat the stupid thing.

With the wave of my hand the light switches off. I pull the covers up to my chin, trying to get comfortable for the night knowing full well it will be another sleepless night.