Chapter 10 Class Moratorium (Spark Series – original fiction)

Preface – Chapter 9

Cat stopped abruptly and pulled open the expansive wooden exterior door of the school on back of the main building.

The small action sent every muscle in her body to screaming. She whimpered.

“What are you smiling at?” Cat asked a grinning gargoyle snidely, which sat on the corner of the school, looking down at her. Its mortar gray body dripping wet with rain water as it fell from the sky.

With the storm clouds as a backdrop, the normally chipper looking gargoyle took on a more sinister appearance.

An appearance that Cat brushed off with a tired wave of her hand.

“Whatever, look all menacing if you want,” Cat said aloud. “At this point, I’m too tired to let my imagination do anything useful with it. You’re just wasting it on me.”

The thunder over head rumbled and the storm cloud darkened sky brightened as lightning streaked across it. The rains had come, yet the dark clouds remained

Cat stepped in the door, and stood in the shadows of the doorway.

Starting the day off getting hammered into the ground by her father, only to be followed up by a three-mile run, in the rain, did not a happy body make. The tardy bell rang.

Cat looked morosely at the long walk laid out before, in the form of one now very empty school hallway and she groaned at the prospect.

This would make two class in a row now in which she was tardy today…

A new personal best. The fact that it was her first two classes, and the only two she had so far, did not set a good precedence for the rest of the day. If she kept this up, they were gonna so start ticking off days on her perfect attendance. Can’t have that.

“Just throw your head down and get it done.” Cat mumbled to herself, in a mantra her father had drilled into her head more than once. You didn’t have to like a chosen task, but you always, always had to finish it.

Head down, she secured her bags, which felt now more like lead weights to her shoulder and began the slow, painful shuffle that took her down the long vacant hallway towards science class.

She tried to valiantly swallow the squeaks that whimpered from her throat with every step, but failed. Utterly. OK, this was ridiculous and unneeded.

Despite her father’s warnings to never use her special skills in public, with a quick glance around the hall, to make sure she was indeed all alone, Cat stepped quickly and easily into the shadows, merging with naturally in the darkness. They became one. Desperate times, desperate measures…

You know the drill.

Blah, blah, blah.

In the blink of an eye, or more pointedly in the darkness that resulted from the blink of an eye, Cat traveled the rest of the way down the hall on the darkened wings of swirling shadows, reappearing by the door of her chosen destination.

“There.” Cat smiled, with a self-satisfied huff. “With no pain and even less effort, just the way I like it and none the wiser.”

So pleased was she with not only her skills, but at negating the painful effort it would have taken her to get here, she almost missed the whisper soft sound of movement in the hallway behind her. Uh, oh. Cat froze, her heart racing at the prospect of being caught in the act.

She jerked her head to look down the hallway in the direct from whence she came. Her eyes scanned quickly. Nothing. Breath baited in expectation of discovery, Cat let it out in a ‘whoosh’ of air when she realized it was just her imagination…

That was all.

A gentle breeze tickled her hair causing it to dance at the edges of her chin and the wooden door at the end of the hallway slowly slid closed.

Her father always warned her about her gifts. She would just have to be more careful on how she used them in the future. Not seeing the cause of the disturbance in the air, Cat thought nothing else of it and she turned back towards the classroom door.

Happy that her painful impatience did not lead to the discovery of her special skills and by someone she would have a hard time explaining them too she emptied all thoughts of it from her mind.

The sounds of class underway reached her ears long before Cat reached the door handle to pull open the science lab designated door.

The Junior class was nothing if not a noisy bunch. Few teachers could handle the rambunctious crew, when all were present and accounted for, with the ease that Mrs. Steele exhibited by doing nothing more than turning down the volume reception on her hearing aid.

A method that worked well for all involved.

She was such a dear.

Looking through the small rectangular window by the door handle of the wood classroom door, she saw that any hope she had of sneaking end would come to naught. Mrs. Steele was already taking roll. Figures. Cat grasped the brass door handle and gave it a jerk.

She moaned once again, thanks to the door pulling action that sent her abused muscles screaming and all eyes were suddenly upon her.

Marigold grimaced from her seat in shame that she hadn’t waited for Cat, once Cat had double back for her after running the full distance herself, running back with her to the locker room so she wouldn’t have to enter it alone and last, yet again. In reward for this valiant gesture, Marigold had gone on to class while Cat showered up, after her doubly extra long run.

Guilt sat heavily on Marigold’s already hunched shoulders.

Hair still slightly damp from her shower, Cat’s legs were as sturdy as pudding columns with Jell-O inserts as she walked into class.

“So glad you could join us, Miss Fox.” Mrs. Steele said loudly, a little louder than necessary, without looking up from her podium as she made the adjustments to her rollsheet. “We were worried you got lost coming back from the gym.”

“Sorry, Ma’am.” Cat said, heading quickly to her seat. Mrs. Steele turned back towards the chalk board and she continued to studiously write on it what they would be studying today.

Darwin’s Theory of Evolution verses Intelligent Design.

Cat limped in front of the class, past Inn who sat in the front row, along with Mickey Jackson and Matt Cooney, who had been placed there respectively as punishment for talking too much, heading to her own desk for this hour.

Brad Beck snickered at Cat as she passed him sitting in his seat, while he whispered something to Izzy behind him, who turned to watch her pass with a snarl in her eyes and a curl of her lip.

Izzy was rewarded for that look, by a swift kick to the back of her chair by BJ who sat immediately behind her and had been awaiting Cat’s arrival, not appreciating the look at all. At this point BJ needed only the slightest provocation to act on her hatred for Isabella Pepper, especially after what she had learned in gym.

David had taken Izzy home after the concert his band, Rancid, gave at the dive bar on the outskirts of town, up the northern ridge, called artfully, The Bone Yard…

Since it overlooked the town’s local cemetery, it seemed fitting, if grossly disturbing.

David and Izzy, of all people?!

BJ had overheard Mickey and Izzy glorying in every scandalous, tantalizing detail in the locker room before their run.

BJ had wanted to kill someone.

More specifically, David.

She fumed at the very thought of David having such low standards, even if it was a brief hook-up and had stormed out of the locker room before she did something she might regret.

What did it matter who David diddled with? BJ angrily scratched in her notebook, not looking up. It didn’t, not at all. Especially to her. Then why did she so suddenly feel like crying, BJ wondered sadly.

Cat slid into her seat positioned between Marigold and BJ, slipping her book bag, artist case and purse on the backrest of her seat and knew she wasn’t the only one to take note of the fact that AC and BJ were not sitting as closely as they had just the day before.

BJ did her best to pretend no one existed outside her own little world of desk and paper. She was pouting about something and just as soon as Cat finished moaning in pain, she would find out why exactly.

BJ was so high maintenance.

Initially she assumed it had to do with the fact that AC & Cree took up two seats beside each other in the last row of the classroom, making her odd man out.

Cat smiled at David as she settled noticing that David took up three seats in the back of the class.

That’s when it hit Cat that BJ’s present pout probably had more to do with David, than it did her present almost, but not quite, ex-boyfriend AC. Just a quick, by-the-hip assumption based on the fact that after they had left the locker room, BJ had run hell-bent until she caught up with David halfway down the Troy mile already, his long legs eating up the pavement easily…

Only to get in a shoving match with him, ending horribly with David laughing in BJ’s face.

A fact Cat had seen as she approached them from a distance, too far away for her to stop BJ from whacking him in the head with a stick she found on the side of the road after David had turned away from her.

Bad idea.

Cat turned in her seat, just slightly enough to shoot a glance back at David, who sat quietly in the back of the room.

He was gently fingering the knot on the back of his head. Cat grimaced, turning back around. That was probably going to scar.

Ignoring her looks, as well as Red’s obvious agitation with him, David sat in the chair slid as far back as he could get it, in the back corner of the room using one desk to prop his booted foot in. On the other desk, his guitar sat straightly, like an apt pupil waiting for a lesson.

David sat in this position in every class, few teachers took him to task for it.

After all, as long as he showed up, that counted for something, right?

A smattering of students filled out the remaining chairs, leaving few vacancies with the exception of those that dare not go into ‘No Mans’ territory being anywhere close to David or anywhere near Marigold Dorsey and they did this for absolutely polar reasons.

No one sat close to David, because with the exception of Cat and BJ, everyone was scared spit-less of him.

No one sat close to Marigold Dorsey, because she was considered gross, because she ate glue in kindergarten and no one let her live that down.

Ever.

It happened in kindergarten, get over it already Cat grumbled inwardly.

“Bunker – Incoming!” Ever watchful, BJ whispered the warning to Cat.

Cat harrumphed with narrowed eyes, watching as Mickey was handed a wad of paper by Matt, who promptly laid his head down on his desk, covering his head with his arms to hide his snickers, just as Mickey turned and let the wad fly directly at Marigold’s head, in a bunker shot over Matt’s bent head.

Just as BJ had so astutely predicted.

BJ was that good and Matt and Mickey were nothing, if not predictable.

Mickey was bold, to take such a forward action with her so close at hand, Cat had to give her that…

Stupid, yes, admittedly so stupid and a good aim.

Cat’s hand whipped out instinctively and caught the wad before it could hit the poor harried girl, Marigold. Cat’s hand had  stopped the assault directly in front of the girl’s face with a winning catch.

Marigold remained unaware of the invents as they transpired, her big shoulders hunched, as she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible to all of the bullies in the classroom. A plan that just never really worked out for her.

Mickey hissed at Cat for ruining her fun, knowing Cat would never retaliate against someone she perceived weaker than she was.

Mickey was secure in this…

However Mickey paled quickly, whipping around in her seat as Cat whispered over to BJ, because BJ was another matter all together.

Damn.

Whispering in her ear, Cat talked while BJ listened.

BJ was writing furiously in her note pad, taking notes, as Mrs. Steele wrote definitions on the board. She was obviously doing everything in her power to ignore the boy, AC, who was shooting daggers into her back with his eyes and David, who watched her with a similar look.

Mickey barely made out the words, though she tried. Her ears strained, but when she did catch a word or two, she grimaced.

“I bet you my extra lunch chocolate milk you can’t still stuff her in a locker?” Cat grinned evilly, watching Mickey flinch as she whispered the words purposefully just loud enough for Mickey to hear, in BJ’s ear.

Cat smiled over at he best friend and tossed the wad of paper that had been wrapped around a rock inside the metal compartment of her desk. It hit the back side of it and echoed like the beginning gong, for a fight bell.

It was so on.

“Who?” BJ asked, not looking up, her pencil racing furiously across her notepad.

“Mickey.”

“Your two chocolate milks against mine?” That peaked BJ’s interest enough to have her looking up. After all betting chocolate, in any form, was a serious matter.

Thinking, pulling the rubber-band she had around her wrist for her hair, into a slingshot position between her thumb and forefinger of her left hand. BJ slid a pencil, eraser end first, into the crevice of the rubber band and pulled it back. She took aim. “Too easy. What kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t honest about that? So let’s make it challenging for me and make it both Mickey and Izzy, in the same locker, and you have yourself a bet.”

Mickey squeaked, seeing BJ take aim at her with her pencil, point first, apparently having seen the wad thrown at Marigold herself, then the subsequent hiss at Cat.

With a twang of the rubber-band BJ let it fly in absentminded retaliation.

More because of the Cat thing, than the Marigold one simply because Mickey knew BJ consider Cat ‘hers’ and fact of the matter was, BJ didn’t like Marigold either.

Heck, no one did, save Catherine Fox.

The proverbial goodie-two shoes.

Squeaking, Mickey all but fell out of her chair as she dodged. The pencil whizzed over her head only to stick deeply embedded in the cork-board beside the chalkboard about a half an inch deep at the front of the classroom.

It vibrated in the wall with the force of its impact.

Spinning in her seat, Mickey gave BJ a look dark enough to singe her eyebrows, but said nothing as she turned back in her chair. She was stupid after all, not suicidal.

BJ just smiled winningly at her, having successfully proved her point.In more ways than one.

Catherine might not retaliate on her own behalf against someone weaker than herself, but BJ had no such qualms…

So watch it. Cat was off-limits.

Period.

And Matt, for his part in the whole debacle, stopped snickering, his eyes growing wide as he stared in shock a the pencil.

Impressive.

Mrs. Steele, god bless her, in the way of the best of teachers, was oblivious to it all.

Cat stared in awe at the pencil as it stuck out from the wall, stabbed into the calendar that hung on the wall, gored center-most into the square marking today’s date.

BJ’s casually easy skills and deadly accuracy was quite disconcerting.

“Wow.” Cat said awestruck. “Nice shot.” Even as best friends that they were, BJ could be a little scary.

“What do you mean?” BJ asked, using the rubber band to pull back her hair, piling it on top of her head. Reaching behind her she pulled another pencil from her backpack on the back of her seat without sparing Mickey a glance. “I missed.”

Cat laughed, only half convinced BJ was joking. For someone who claimed not to have red hair, she sure had the temperament to go along with the characteristic.

Time to change the subject to happier, less disturbing matters, “So, both Mickey and Izzy in the same locker for my two chocolate milks?”

“Yep.” BJ tested the tip on her pencil, before she renewed her note taking. Nice, sharp and deadly, just the way she liked it. “If they don’t both fit, you get mine.”

“They’ve kinda filled out since you last tried it, I don’t think you can get them both in there.”

BJ shrugged, “The fun’s in the trying.”

“Totally right.” Cat held out her hand, and BJ shook it, “Deal.”

The classroom door opened and a boy stepped in.

Cat felt the hinges at her jaw loosen their normally controlling grip, while still holding on to BJ’s hand.

It was him. It had to be him. She had gone all tingly inside.

“Who’s that?” Marigold whispered beside her, mirroring her own question.

Who indeed?

The whispers in the classroom began like an ocean wave, rolling from one end of the classroom to the next.

“Oh.” BJ grinned, looking at him in healthy female adolescent appreciation. “New guy.”

BJ tried to turn around in her seat, but was stopped. Cat still held her hand in a death grip that was only growing tighter. Hmmm “Are you going to keep it,” BJ asked her, eyebrows raised looking pointedly at her hand. “Or can I have that back?”

“What?” Cat asked, staring at the doorway, cutting her eyes briefly to BJ who simply held up their linked hands, shaking them briefly. Cat blushed. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

Cat let go.

He stood out clad in parachute camouflage pants, tucked into combat-boots colored a dark, and worn brown, scuffed and scarred. A bankers blue stripped dress shirt over a tight dark blue wife-beater, which hugged his chest, he walked into the room. No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t walk, he swaggered.

Cat felt drool pool into the bottom of her open mouth, a mouth dropping further open with each heartbreakingly beautiful step he took. That was him – It was her guy. She would recognize those shoulders anywhere.

“Nicely put together.” BJ hummed deep in her throat, tapping her pencil on her desk with one hand, while she propped her chin on the palm in the other, “Dreamy even.”

“I know him.” Cat whispered distractedly.

A long, wide blue scarf-like cowl lay wrapped around his shoulders, bunching behind his head in a way that it could easily be pulled over his head, shoulder he choose to use it for a hood. The ends dangled tantalizingly over broad set shoulders, its ends frayed, slightly unraveling. An army green canvas tote bag, its strap hung easily from his shoulder.

“Wait…What? No way!” BJ gasped over at her, jumping in her seat, the metal legs of her desk ringing loudly against the aged linoleum of the classroom floor as she scooted closer to Catherine. “And you kept it from me? Just when did this miracle occur? Leave no detail out, now matter how small and feel free to embellish any hot lip on lip action for my salacious fantasies.”

His, hair, Cat thought as she stared at him, was golden-brown like the sands of the desert, or the full mane of a lion.

Poke

Shoulder length dark-brown hair, so rich under the lights it seemed to shimmer with blond, light, sun-streaked highlights, she wondered dully if it was as cool and as silky as it looked.

Her fingers itched to touch it.

Poke. “Cat?” BJ hissed in her ear, as she poked her with her pencil eraser. “Hello?”

But even as immaculate as the whole package was, and boy was it ever, that’s not what drew Cat’s unblinking gaze.

Gallant slashing brows accentuated his eyes…

Those amazing, magical eyes.

Poke, poke.

Long lashes fan his chiseled cheeks, as they blinked over liquid mercury colored eyes, and he cut them to the side to glance over the students in the class, as he made his way across the room.

Cat’s breath caught.

Who knew gray, silver, could be so inviting, but they were. Like the gray storm clouds that seemed to envelope their fair town, his eyes encased her in invigorating stimulation.

BJ sighed at Cat’s continued disregard of her and flipped her pencil over, lead point first. BJ fingered the tip. It was still sharp.

That should do it.

Poke

“Ouch.” Cat gasped, holding her side, staring at BJ angrily. “Hey!”

BJ raised her brows innocently, saying simply, “Explain.”

Prying her eyes away from him as his sensuous mouth smiled a half-smile, a dimple winked at it’s corner, Cat sighed as Mrs. Steele walked up to him while he waited calmly in the doorway.

“This is going to sound bad.” Cat began, leaning down close to BJ’s ear, her mouth pulled down in the corner, her eyes unable to pull away from him. He was so close, but yet so far. Cliché? You bet. But true nonetheless.

“O, badness! I likie already.” BJ egged her on, scooting closer. “The best stories usually have the badness just all in them, so carry on.”

Cat took a deep breath, leaning over she whispered directly into BJ’s ear, “I met him this morning after he jerked me into the alleyway behind the feed store and held me at knife-point.”

BJ was taken aback. And for her to even think the words ‘taken aback’, that was saying something.

“You – Really?” BJ asked, eyebrows raised for she knew her friend and what she was capable of, if tried. Interesting.

Checking him out in earnestly now, BJ studied the newbie with considering blue eyes. The boy liked to play with knives, huh? No biggie there, after all, so did she. And since Cat was sitting beside her, unharmed, she could give him a pass, “And you just let him?”

Cat waved off the question, “It was a misunderstanding.”

OK. Still with the passing, BJ nodded, “Which accounts for the fact that he’s still breathing, I get that.”

“He just thought I was some Big Bad, or something. Obviously I’m not, so we talked about it, then we just talked and since I held a knife on him too, well it all worked out for the best.”

If there was one thing BJ knew, it was Buffy-speak, “So he was being all heroic?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Or…”

“With you,” Cat shook her head. “I knew there would be an ‘or’…”

“He was using it as an excuse as the new guy to hit on girls in town.” BJ smirked with humor so uniquely her, “Mutual knife hold, after all, I hear is the new speed dating.”

“Oh shut up.” With BJ maybe a guy would risk it. Leave it to BJ to go there. Cat rolled her eyes, “Of course, because yes, the whole holding ‘em at knife-point ploy is a great way to have the girls swooning at his feet.”

“And yet here you are, slack-jawed and swooning.” BJ nodded, making a point to highlight out the obvious. “So don’t discount it. Personally, as games go, I think it’s pretty tempting new line, especially if you add in the whole damsel in distress like angle, which I just don’t get to play at often, neither for that matter do you, which is why I think it worked.”

“Oh, he played it alright.”

“Really? Nice.”

“Then once we had all the details of the misunderstanding worked out…”

“Is that how we are referring to it?” BJ asked, just for clarification. “The Misunderstanding?”

Cat nodded, as she continued, wanting to get to the good part that she knew BJ would get all jealous over, “…He bowed to me, all regal and respectfully, before he disappeared.”

“What?” Respect? From a boy? That was a new one.

“Yes,” Cat nodded, putting emphasis on the word. “Bowed.”

“Better and better.” Now BJ was getting impressed. The boy had some moves.

“He was hot. And not hot in that he was sweaty, but hot in that I was.” Cat cut her eyes to her friend, knowing if she appreciated the story up until now, she would just love this last part, “He wore a mask.”

While her boyfriend was complaining about parking spots, some guy was bowing to Cat, wearing a mask and holding her at knife-point. BJ pouted. Life just wasn’t fair at all, “You suck.”

Cat laughed. That alone made the whole morning worth it.

Cat and BJ whispered a few more moments back and forth, and watched as the newbie handed Mrs. Steele some papers, which she carefully looked over.

All of the girls in class however seemed to lean towards them, as if battling to catch a word that would buffer their hopes that this young man was definitely in the right spot.

If there was a god above, he would be right where he was supposed to be.

Taking the papers, Mrs. Steele patted him on the shoulder as she turned towards the class. “Class, we have a treat this morning.”

See, there was a God and he was grand.

“I would like you to introduce you to our new student. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Leonidas Pope.”

Finally he had a name.

Leonidas Pope. The name so fit him. Cat had the strangest urge to stand up and applaud. He was in the right spot, right within her reach – Thank you God! Cat blushed as she resisted the impulse. Just barley.

BJ snickered and elbowed her in the side.

Turning to face them fully however, he didn’t shirk from the introduction as most new student would have in his situation in embarrassment, but threw his shoulders back, and arched one of his eyebrows in a way that exuded a corporeal arousing confidence.

“Well hello there, Sexy.” Izzy all but purred it, leaning up, bracing her forearms on her desk she ate him with her eyes.

This time it was Cat that kicked the back of her chair.

BJ busted out laughing in surprise at Cat’s very uncharacteristic aggressive reaction, covering her mouth with one hand, her shoulders shook with mirth, as Izzy whipped her head around in BJ’s direction.

BJ just silently laughed, shoulders shaking, she pointed towards Cat with a laugh shaking hand.

Izzy rewarded her with a one fingered salute.

BJ stopped smiling.

That’s it, she was so going into a locker!

Cat frowned furiously at the back of Izzy’s chair as she spun around, but only for a second, not wanting the loser to take any attention away from Leonidas.

Looking back up at him, he was all but staring at her now in amusement, catching the by-play between her and Izzy.

Once again, she had his full attention. This time minus the knife. This was actually much better. Her already blush stained cheeks stained a deeper red as her face grew hotter. For a moment in time, their eyes seemed to collide. Silver and green intermingled and time slowed to span single, individual heartbeats.

Cat could feel her heart beating in her throat, her increasing pulse made her vision throb in it’s all encompassing beats.

Someone cleared their throat in the classroom, and Cat shook her head as the spell was broken, lowing her eyes to try to gain a bit of composure, she raised her yes to look him again.

His eyes were downcast as well, as if he too needed a moment to shake free of the spell and in that moment it was then that Cat saw the scar that ran the length of his right cheek, up to the bottom of the corner of his eye, puckered and angry red. After raising his head, noticing the direction of her gaze, he tilted his face to the side as if daring her to stare at it.

As if needing to see her reaction.

Shoulders back, legs wide, he seemed to be bracing himself for her reaction.

But instead of his eyes, his scar drew and held her attention now, as if submitting to his silent request. It was a horrible looking scar and one that should have detracted from the rugged, masculine beauty of his face…

It didn’t. Cat’s eyes caressed it, as she gazed upon his face and a soft smile drifted across her lips.

Acceptance.

Instead of blemishing it, the scar made Leonidas’s face strangely bearable to look upon what would have otherwise been a faced marred with only the curse of perfection. It was easy for her to pull her eyes away from it, to gaze back into his beautiful eyes, the scar seen, acknowledged and just as easily discounted.

Leonidas smiled at her, just for her and there was not a soul student in the classroom that didn’t notice. His eyes crinkled in the corners…

Just the way she remembered.

For a second, as their eyes met…

Cat’s world began to tilt and just like that, she was falling. Hard.

Cat could feel it and she mentally fought for balance in a world that suddenly didn’t make any sense, flooding her with emotions she couldn’t name, much less pinpoint, but they were strong, real and oh so very breathtaking.

Leonidas was unlike anyone she had ever seen before. Dangerous, gorgeous, brave and yet attractively insecure about something so beyond his control and even with his scar, he had the most beautiful smile she had ever seen in her whole, entire life.

She was a goner and she knew it.

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, please Mr. Pope, take one of the empty seats so we can begin.” Having completely Mrs. Steele nodded to him. She then turned from him, walking back to her desk with the papers he gave her, she sat down to fill them out quickly, so she could then file them away.

“You can sit by me, Leonidas.” Mickey hummed at him, with a flirtatious tilt of her dark head, crossing her long dark legs, her cheer-leading skirt riding up to a dangerously high degree and giving him a wave of her graceful hand.

Beckoning him closer.

“Uh, I’m sitting by you, Mickey.” Matt gently reminded her. “And I’m not moving.”

“Shut up.” She hissed, having so quickly forgotten about Matt’s presence and then mad at him for not offering Leonidas his chair.

“No, he can sit by me.” Izzy stated, sitting up further in her desk chair, leaning out further over her braced arms to give the gorgeous newcomer a good flash of her chest, framed in her tight, black cheer-leading sweater, if he was so inclined to take a little peek.

“Only if he wants to catch something he has to have a prescription to get rid of.” BJ scoffed loudly, making the class mutter with laughter.

Izzy sat back with a quiet huff, but stopped herself from turning around to sneer at BJ after a quick glance up at the pencil still sticking out of the wall. Hating BJ, but not stupid enough to cause her to retaliate, which she undoubtedly would.

The temperamental witch.

“He can sit behind me.” Marigold spoke up, stating softly, surprising Cat.

Heck, surprising everyone.

Marigold never spoke out in class.

Ever.

It was almost as if she was afraid to bring attention to herself. So for Marigold to put herself out there and make a statement that was designed to bring everyone’s attention in her direction, Cat reasoned that Leonidas’s powerful attraction didn’t effect just her.

He had that effect on everyone.

“Ew, god,” Mickey rolled her head instantly, glaring behind her at Marigold as she hissed. “You’re disgusting, why would he want to sit by you.”

“I know, right?” Izzy twittered up to Mickey. “Marigold not only looks like a cow, but she smells like one too.”

Marigold gasped in physical pain at the vicious verbal attack, as Cat gasped in outrage.

“How long have you’ve been saving that one up. Did Mickey write it down for you?” Not one to take up the banner of lost causes herself, that was Cat’s job, but this time even BJ was disgusted enough to speak out, “Jesus, Izzy, you’re such a tool.”

The cow remark was a sadistic remark meant to maim…It did the job as a large part of the class laughed uncomfortably at the unusually nasty comment usually said behind hiding hands instead of stated so boldly out loud.

The girls brutal attack was meant to impress the newcomer.

It, however, did just the opposite.

Cat felt her jaw lock in anger as Marigold’s shoulders shook in shame beside her, as she went silent once more. In fact Cat had just raised her foot on a growl, to kick the back of Izzy’s chair again, when Leonidas stepped forward.

Apparently their mission to impress him failed.

Miserably.

“Does the offer of the desk, come with the use of your book as well?” Leonidas asked smiling gently at Marigold now, the smile only for her, his eyes steady as he walked forward. “As I have not been by the library to pick up my own, I hope you do not mind if we share yours.”

Marigold looked up and stared at him in surprise…Then around to everyone in the classroom who was staring at him in open-mouthed astonishment.

Was he talking to her? Baffled, Marigold felt stupid, knowing he surely couldn’t be talking to her, but nevertheless she pointed to herself as she gasped at him in surprise, just to be sure, “Me?”

He merely smiled at her, his eyes gentle. He shrugged. Blushed. “Is that acceptable, Miss?”

Nodding so quickly, it was hard not to liken her to a bobble-head doll and just as hard not to nod your head along with her, as shock settled in over everyone in the classroom.

No one bucked convention, well except for Cat, and befriended those the majority of the student body deemed unworthy.

Such as Marigold Dorsey, David Zulu and Inn Ruin.

It just didn’t happen.

Apparently this new guy, this Leonidas Pope didn’t know that.

He was actually being nice to her – Marigold, The Glue Eater – And talking to her…

In front of people.

It boggled the mind.

Students looked around at each other in shock not knowing how to respond, as if someone had just told them there was a herd of pigs flying outside their window.

Nice to Marigold?

What did one do with that?

“Well, good.” Mrs. Steele said absentmindedly, having only picked a smattering of conversation thanks to her hearing aid set on low as she concentrated on her task. Ignoring any conflicts was a sure way for her to make it through her day with just a tad bit left of her sanity, she had learned. “Now that that is decided, let me just finish taking care of this paperwork and we’ll get on with our lessons.”

Cat wasn’t the only one who was a little thrown by Leonidas’s reaction to the taunting of Marigold.

She realized this when Cree murmured aloud to AC, his deep baritone voice carrying easily up to her from the back of the classroom, “Huh. He must have a thing for fat, ugly chicks.”

“Actually, I like my women strong, able to bear up under the oppression of others. ” Leonidas answered Cree instantly, directly. “It shows character.”

Unafraid.

Again, not something anyone generally did as a rule, respond to Cree. Leonidas walked towards his claimed seat behind Marigold, with a careless shrug.

“Stout of heart, brave of soul is the way I appreciate them. I have no use for vindictive, mongrel bitches,” The whole room gasped in unison, mouths dropping open as Mrs. Steele sputtered from her seat, apparently even her bad ears picked up that word, but he continued on as if saying curse words in class were a common occurrence. “Which is why I’m sitting back here with this true beauty,” Leonidas smiled as he patted a gasping Marigold on the shoulder, as he passed her heading towards his claimed seat. “And not up there with those ugly, vapid, mongrel dogs. You see Sir, I actually have taste.”

Marigold looked like she was going to pass out as Leonidas slid in his claimed seat behind her, having successfully defended her from Cree Feral, Mickey Jackson and Isabella Pepper of all people.

Her!

It just didn’t happen.

Cat had to hide her smiling face behind her hand, as BJ poked her in the side again with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrows at her.

Apparently swooping to save the day was indeed something Leonidas did often, no matter what form ‘evil’ took.

Real or imagined.

“Mr. Pope!” Mrs. Steele snapped, finally getting her stuttering under control, she pushed up quickly from her chair. “That is enough!”

“Did he just call us a bi–…?” Mickey asked, gasping towards a shocked Izzy. This never happened to her before. Everyone loved them.

Everyone!

“Yeah,” Izzy nodded, completely flummoxed. “And he called us dogs, too.”

“It means the same thing you Teflon coated, intelligence rejecter.” BJ hissed from behind her.

OK, Mickey silently corrected herself, giving BJ as evil an eye as she dared. Almost everyone.

Seeing the look, BJ pulled the rubber band from her hair, each movement full of purpose. The action had Mickey squeaking and spinning in her seat.

They can be taught! BJ smirked at Mickey’s back, putting her hair back up.

“Mr. Pope, you will come with me right this instant.” Mrs. Steele shrilled. “You have set a record young man. You haven’t been in my class even five minutes and you are already on your way to the Principal’s office. Congratulations.”

Leonidas sighed, and slid back out of his desk. This High School thing was indeed going to be just as trying as he thought. Mother was not going to be pleased. Grabbing his bag off the back, he slung it over his shoulder as if being drug out of the classroom to the principal’s office was nothing more than a minor annoyance.

There wasn’t a student in class that didn’t appreciate his nonchalantness.

Walking sedately behind Mrs. Steele as she flew from the classroom in agitation, Leonidas looked back over his shoulder and addresses Marigold. “I hope that offer to use your book is still extended tomorrow, despite my boorish behavior?”

“Boorish?” BJ mouthed to a still smiling Cat, who just shrugged, snickering watching him in wonder.

No one talked like he did. Simply no one.

Marigold smiled, ducking her head coyly as she blushed and the whole class watched bumfuzzled, as she nodded shyly in response to Leonidas’s question…

She giggled.

Cat wasn’t sure what surprised her more, the fact that he was so brazenly unaffected or that Marigold giggled. Heck, Cat didn’t even think she could laugh. It was sad to think that she had never heard it. Even sadder to realize Marigold never had a reason too.

Looking quickly from one to the other, Cat finally looked back at Leonidas, holding her gaze easily, realizing finally that he stood in the doorway who as if waiting for something.

Cat quickly figured out what as soon as her eyes flew up to his.

He winked conspiratorially at her, before he ducked out in the hallway after one last screech from Mrs. Steele, “Mr. Pope!” called back to him from the hallway.

Cat felt her breath leave her in a ‘whoosh’ as she continued to stare at the door even as it slowly slid closed. She felt the result of that flirtatious, playful look like a kick to the stomach. She felt kind of sick, like she needed to throw up…

But not in a bad way.

“Wow.” BJ, still watching the doorway as well and reached out with a steady hand to push Cat’s dangling jaw closed. That’s what best friends were for after all. “Impressive.”

Cat whipped her head around guiltily to see if anyone else had caught her mouth-open admiration for the boy who just stepped into her life and without one word said to her, swept her off her feet.

No one noticed, she saw in relief, they were all still staring in shock at the door…

And at what had just blew in and out of their lives.

Or more to the point, who.

Leonidas Pope.

Marigold sighed, still in shock herself. But this time, when she spoke up, remembering Leonidas’s words, she put a little steel in her spine. “You can say that again.”

“Wow.” All the girls whispered romantically in unison, the sound carried easily on breathy sighs as they all sat looking towards the now closed-door.

“God.” David groaned in response, with a roll of his eyes in disgust. “You women are so easy.”

It was said to all of them, but directed to BJ.

What was she looking at the door that way for – Didn’t she have a boyfriend already?

It was an accusation, directed at her, plain and simple and BJ heard it loud and clear.

“But some of us more than others, right?” It was the excuse she had been hoping for. BJ, in response, turned quickly and threw her book at him, catching his square in the chest.

It hit with a thump, dead center, into his chest.

BJ was scary-accurate with whatever projectile she was umm…

Projecting.

“Stop hitting me, woman!” David roared at her, leaning forward, teeth barred.

Everyone cringed at the sound.

Well, everyone but BJ.

Unfazed, and satisfied to having got such a reaction out of him, BJ smiled sticking her tongue out at him, before turning around in her seat.

Perfectly content to go back to ignoring him, now that she was assured she had his full attention and would so for the duration of class.

She had AC’s as well, not that she cared, and David again noticed the venomous looks AC was shooting at BJ’s back from his seat beside Meathead in the back of the room.

It unsettled him.

There was anger there, with a little bit of embarrassment and maybe something else.

Something darker.

Rubbing his chest, David picked up BJ’s book as he looked over at Precious Alexander Cesar Troy. Slipping her book in with his, in his desk, David vowed to keep a close eye on Precious to make sure he didn’t do anything he would regret.

Most importantly, to BJ.

It was the break in tension needed to get the whole class speculating with tantalizing twitters.

“Who was this guy?”

“Where did he come from?”

“What house did he move into, in town?”

And so the chorus went.

“It wasn’t a h…h…house.” Inn stuttered uncomfortably, as all eyes turned on him with this bit of news.

He hated to be the center of attention.

It just never worked out well for him.

His ears burned bright red.

“What do you mean it wasn’t a house?” Matt asked out, from beside Inn, after giving him a swipe in the ear with his thumping finger. Those were targets he could never resist.

Inn ducked, covering his ears and he grimaced in pain as his assaulted ear burned. He answered, “H…h…he moved into the old abandoned ch…ch…church on the south end of Main S…s…street.”

“His whole family moved into the church…By you?” BJ asked Cat, but she already knew. “Nice.”

That was by her. Cat thought. Figures he would move to town close to her, just as she was going to be out on the outskirts of town with BJ at her ranch.

God hated her.

BJ turned towards her with wiggling silent eyebrows. “We should stop by…Take a bunt cake.”

“There is j…j…just the two of them.” Inn explain, ignoring BJ. The best way to deal with her really, especially when Cat had given her free rein. “J…j…just him and his mom as far as I kn…kn…know.”

“But that old church? It’s old, run down and just ugly.” Mickey shivered. “Not to mention kinda creepy, why there of all places? Are they like poor or something?”

Mickey made it sound like being poor was a cardinal sin.

Gads, what a snob!

Cat looked at BJ and BJ looked at Cat, both rolled their jaws staring hard at the back of Mickey’s head.

“She’s an scientist. An archeologist, I th…th…think. Even wrote and published a couple of books on all her discoveries, so I know they’re not poor.”

Shallow was too deep a word for Mickey Jackson.

She’d probably drown in a kiddie pool.

“I heard they needed the space,” Cree interjected. “And the cellar underground to keep safe all the stuff they brought back from their travels and digs around the world. Some more fragile than others, if you know what I mean.”

“Actually I don’t.” AC groused, trying not to sound too curious, even though he was. He didn’t like this new guy Leonidas, he was just too good-looking, even with the scar, to give him competition. And AC didn’t like any guy he considered better looking than himself. “What kind of stuff?”

“Dead stuff.” Cree smiled menacingly, nodding. So glad someone asked. He had been dying to mention it. Get it? Dying. Cree laughed out loud. He just cracked himself up.

“Oh, shut up.” Cat rolled her eyes, turning in her seat to look back at him. “Dead stuff? Get real, Cree – No way.”

“Oh, I’ve got something that will shut you up.” Cree leered at her. Never really liking the fact that someone as small as Cat Fox wasn’t afraid of him. But to be honest, it kinda turned him on.

“Watch it.” David growled in warning, making Cree shift uncomfortably agitated in his seat at the response.

“No really,” Cree clarified, loving all the attention as every eye in the room focused on him. He did his best to ignore David. After this morning, he didn’t want to get into it with him again. That, he was saving for later tonight when he could catch the colored jerk off guard and make him squeal like the boy he was. “My Mom got all the deets from Gregory Ruins this morning before she went to work. Then, when she was heading to the feed store, driving down Main she told me she saw this huge moving van in front of the old church, over the tracks. She said everything was hard to make out because of the fog, not that she was really paying attention…”

“Because you know she’s not nosy at all.” David snorted.

Cat and BJ laughed, and Inn covered his smirk with his hand. David, Cree would ignore and did as he continued, but him, Inn thought, he wouldn’t be so lucky and he would suffer Cree’s wrath if Cree saw him.

“…And she saw guys carrying all sorts of stuff into the old church by way of the cellar doors.” Cree paused for effect. “She said this one thing looked like a saracopia.”

That had everyone stumped.

“A what?” Brad asked engrossed, turned sideways in his seat, leaning back over the backrest of his desk, staring at Cree.

Cat just kept her mouth shut and cut her eyes towards BJ, who slowly turned around in her seat and gave Cree a dark look. Surely Cree couldn’t be that stupid.

“You know,” Cree waved his hand in Brad’s direction, speaking down to him, in an erroneously preconceived notion that he knew what in the heck he was talking about. “One of those old things they buried bodies in like in Egypt or something.”

OK. He was actually that stupid, Cat thought with a huge internal chuckle.

Cat sent a laughing look in BJ’s direction, while covering her smiling mouth. There were very few things that got BJ as mad as just blatant stupidity. It drove her batty, to the point to where she could never resist pointing it out.

Why was she surrounded by morons? BJ wondered, sighing dramatically, noticing Cat’s look. She shook her head, rolling her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Cree didn’t scare her and she wouldn’t have kept quiet even if he did. It just wasn’t BJ’s way, “You mean a sarcophagus, you idiot.”

Cree barred his teeth as a few of the braver kids in the class laughed at BJ’s remark meant to insult his intelligence, which it did. In embarrassment, Cree recklessly lashed out, “Watch who you’re calling an idiot, you stupid cow.”

AC laughed, loving the jab at his beloved, but just had enough time to duck, as a text-book came flying at them from the side, hitting Cree squarely in the side of the head…

Knocking him out of his chair.

It was BJ’s book.

The one she had tossed at David earlier.

Fitting, as well as ironic.

Cat who had turned quickly in her seat at the sound of the loud ‘thwack’ when David hit Cree with the book, gasped as the back wall of the classroom seemed to drip with rivers of blood, raining down from the blood soaked ceiling.

On a blink, and with a quick shake of her head, Cat closed her eyes, opening them quickly seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but the poster covered, ordinary white of the classroom walls.

No blood. It was gone as fast as it had appeared.

A quick glance around the classroom, clued Cat into the fact that no one, but her had seen the display, as the rest of the class were all staring in rapt attention at Cree and David as the tension built.

Lucky her, or lucky them…Depending on how one looked at it, Cat supposed.

David, who had thrown the book at Cree at the insult he had tossed out  To BJ, stood up slowly. “I told you to watch it with the ladies, Meathead.”

Cat stood quickly, more than happy to have a possible fight distract her from non-bloody, bloody walls, and held her hands out calmly towards a raging David, while studiously avoiding looking at the back wall, just in case, “Whoa there, big fella…It’s all good.”

“Good, hell?” BJ frowned up at Cat, only to turn to wave her hand at David in a go ahead manner, towards Cree. “Kill him.”

“Barbara Jean!” Cat admonished with a slap to her arm, but BJ just shrugged innocently at her.

However when David took a step forward towards Cree, apparently intent on doing just that, BJ bolted up from the chair, throwing out her hands in a panic, “Kidding, David! Geesh – I was kidding!”

Inn stood up quickly as well, interjecting as fast as possible, in hopes to avoiding a fight by getting everyone distracted as Cree growled, pushing up from the floor, “I think C…c…Cree’s right.”

The fact that anyone could ever thing Cree was right, about anything, much less Inn, who Cree tormented endlessly, on a daily basis, immediately gave everyone pause.

David and Cree included.

Now that he had everyone’s attention, and bloodshed was averted Inn said, “Mrs. Pope is supposed to be some world-renowned archeologist. I heard my parents talking about it the other night in the study after dinner. She’s supposed to have some wicked collection of ancient religious artifacts, so if she does have a sarcophagus in her collection, I guess it wouldn’t be much of a surprise to me or that big a stretch as she lived in Egypt for a number of years.”

David was one of the few people, with the exception of Cat, whom Inn respected and the last thing he wanted was for David to get expelled again…Even if it was for beating up Cree.

The jerk just wasn’t worth it.

Both Cree and David returned to their seats, but kept a wary eye on each other.

“What would s…s…surprise me however, would be if there was s…s…still an actually mummy in it. Highly doubtful.” Inn shook his bright red-head, scratching his chin. He scrunched up his nose, as he adjusted his glasses with a push of his finger, “I d…d…d…don’t think they let people just walk out of tombs in Egypt with one of those th…th…things, world-renowned archeologist or not.”

“If she’s so excellent, why did they move to The Fare, of all places?” Matt wondered what they were all thinking out loud. “Haunted armpit of the world. What the heck is she going to do here?”

Cat, once again back in her seat, wondered the same thing. Turning to face the front in her seat, she tilted her head just slightly, and cut her eyes, to glance back at the back wall of the classroom, for one more quick check.

Still nothing.

Whew.

“Retire maybe?” Brad answered, shrugging at Matt.

Relieved, Cat was just turning her head back towards the front of the classroom however, as a body covered in torn, dirty rags seemed to drop down from the ceiling, with a noose around its neck, just out of the corner of her eye, by the classroom’s door.

Crap.

Not again.

It was doing the dance-wiggle of death.

Cat started, when she jerked her head to look directly at it, only to see nothing there.

What in the heck was going on with her today?

BJ, watching Cat’s reaction, in tune to it even, saw Cat’s hesitant glance to the back of the room, then she saw her start, her jerked head motion towards the front of the class, but following Cat’s gaze she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“What?” BJ asked Cat silently, with a gentle hand on her arm. “Too much caffeine?”

Cat’s green eyes shot to BJ’s concerned blue ones. “It’s nothing.” Cat told her, but added, “Nothing.” If but to do nothing else than convince herself.

“I heard from my Dad that her husband was murdered.” Brad said, because it was just too juicy not to put it out there.

“Your Dad is the just the athletics coach, how would he know anything?” Cat asked, head down, her hands bracing on both sides of her face, intent on seeing nothing else today, she stared hard at her desktop.

“He knows,” Brad said the picture of affronted youth. “Because he was at the school board meeting where Principal Jackson broached the possibility of Mrs. Pope subbing here, and in order for her to substitute here, there had to be full disclosure on her past history with the board…As a result we get the deets on murdering goodness.”

“Ooo yeah!” Brad stood and high-five Matt.

“Their inanity is glaring. Surely their parents gave them a lobotomy and just didn’t tell anyone…” Marigold whispered to Cat, nodding to Matt and Brad, careful so no one would notice. “Starkly obvious, or is it just me?”

“Murdered?” Matt grinned hugely up at Brad. “That’s awesome.”

Cat smiled at her, peeking around her hands, shaking her head, she reached out quickly and patted the larger girl’s shoulder. Marigold had a real dry sense of humor if anyone took the time to notice. Seldom did. Cat enjoyed her.

Not so much the bloodied fingers that seemed to grasp Marigold’s desktop as something appeared to be hiding underneath.

Cat jerked her eyes back down to concentrate on her desktop, again her hands desperately framing her face to keep her from seeing anything else.

She had seen more than enough today thank you and was about to reach her limit.

“Ew.” BJ saw the exchange between Cat and Marigold, and grimaced at Cat, while shaking her head saying silently so Marigold wouldn’t hear her. Cat after all, hated when that happened. Holding out a hand in front of Cat’s framed face BJ counted off two words on her fingers, of the utmost importance, punctuating why Cat shouldn’t touch Marigold, “Glue. Eater.”

Cat returned the favor by silently whispering two words at her friend, after shoving her own hand in front of BJ’s face, counting them off on her fingers as well, “Get. Over’it.”

“That’s not two words.” BJ informed her archly, slapping at her hand.

“It is if you say it fast enough.” Cat replied back, as she resumed her facial blocking posture.

“It’s murdering goodness and awesome only if you’re not Mr. Pope, or his family.” David interjected, knowing what it was like to lose a parent in such a horrible fashion, remembering his Mom, but as usual he went ignored.

No one wanted to speak to him directly.

He scared them all too badly.

Plus, the life he led, without a mother, or a father, being raised by a crazy aunt was not a life any of them could identify with, connect too…

Or face.

It was just too depressing.

Not even the most out-casted of the lot, Marigold Dorsey.

BJ turned slightly around in her seat to give David a soft smile of support, but he had already dropped his head back down, his black dreadlocks framing his face is a silken curtain, and he was lost too deep in his perpetual brood to notice.

BJ coughed loudly, shifting in her seat, trying to cover her instinctual nurturing actions towards David, as if that was the cause of her movements, but Cat sitting beside her caught the caring, concerned looks back to David and she knew better…

So did AC who snarled silently in his seat beside Cree. Vowing that BJ would get hers. He would see to it.

Brad’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, as he continued. “I hear he was butchered by a bunch of thieves that invaded their excavation site in the desert just outside of some town called Qumran…At least I think my Dad said Qumran, or maybe Iran…Whatever, who knows, who cares, but he was butchered & that is so cool. That I do know.”

“Nice to know you just picked out the important parts. ‘Butchered’ by ‘thieves’. Ok, got it.” Pfft David scoffed, still looking down. Who cared if no one talked to him? He didn’t need anyone anyway. “Yeah right.”

Even though he answered him, Brad didn’t look in David’s direction. The dude scared the crap out of him! “I kid not.”

They say some of the scars on David’s body were inflicted by his aunt, branding him as a child, and rumor is that David had enjoyed the pain so much, he had continued the process and had given himself scars ever so often, ever since…

Because he just loved the pain and got off on it. How very Emo of him? Brad thought, thinking of the scale-like brands he had seen on the palm of each of David’s hands. And from the looks of it, he had some nice fresh gouges on his neck to add to all the others. Damn, those looked like they hurt, but David probably enjoyed them too. Brad shivered in his seat – Talk about freak!

Knowing that, why would anyone ever consciously speak to David Zulu was beyond him, Brad thought to himself, but said out loud, “They say he was eventually beheaded and get this, hot molten iron was then poured into the hole. His body was this dropped into the Nile, to be chawed on by the crocs.”

“Excellent.” Matt nodded.

Cat had enough of their idiocy, especially since Leonidas wasn’t here to defend himself or his family, “I’m impressed too Brad. That’s a lot of details to be remembered by such a little brain. Just how much of that did you make up?”

Brad ignored the insult, and let it pass, because Cree was still rubbing his head in the back of the room from when David beamed him with the book for insulting one of the girls, proving at least to Brad’s mind, his brain wasn’t as small as everyone thought, “I didn’t make up any of it. It’s the truth, so says my Dad.”

“Iron?” David whispered, his brow furrowing in concern, as he hunkered over in his desk, rolling his fingers over the top in a successive beat as his mind began working the possibilities. The specificness of that bothered him. A lot.

“Ouch.” AC automatically replied, however still staring with eyes burning with hatred at BJ’s back.

As was the way of most morbid teenagers, the talk of murders and the dead quickly diverted any thoughts of fights, confrontations, or even differences.

But the brewing adolescent hatreds just continued to bubble under the surface, charging the room on all fronts and from all corners.

“Ouch is right,” Brad laughed. “Someone really wanted to make sure that dude was not only dead, but stayed that way.”

“I’ll say.” David whispered, but the manner of Mr. Pope’s supposed death began to nag him. It just didn’t sit right and sounded way too specific to be a coincidence and just a tad superstitious, not to mention supernatural. Did his way of death mean what David thought it meant?

“Weird.” BJ and Cat said simultaneously, each separately lost in thought. Hearing each other, they laughed uncomfortably at each other’s reply and shifted uneasily in their seats.

Cat rolled her eyes at the statement, because coming back from the dead was what, a recurring problem that must be addressed where Leonidas was from?

Iron? BJ thought, there was something about the strangeness of that hideous death resonated with her, even if she couldn’t pinpoint the cause. Why iron? She remained strangely quietly contemplative, for that matter so did Cat, as the talk around them continued, each thinking about the new boy and each for completely polar reasons.

“Who cares if he died?” Izzy Pepper, not one to be left out of the center of attention without a fight, said with a toss and a flip of her vapid blond head, “It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Aha!” BJ snapped her fingers, unable to stay quite at such an egotistical response. “Proof to my hypothesis that Black Holes are self-sustaining, but have no real intellectual thought processes,” BJ said looking at Cat, pointing at the back of Izzy. “See.”

“Hey,” Spinning in her seat, Mickey looked at Izzy excitedly, ignoring BJ. What she said about her often made so little sense to her, Mickey figured it wasn’t something to get worked up over. “What if in that ‘coughing’ thing…”

“Sarcophagus.” BJ growled out, rolling her eyes heavenwards, praying for deliverance, she slapped her desktop with the face of her open palms. “Oh, for the love of all that’s hol – It’s called a freaking sarcophagus!”

“Whatever.” Mickey waved BJ’s clarification off, still looking at Izzy. BJ didn’t merit a direct address, shouting at her that way. “What if it has her husband in it?”

“Well, ew.” Izzy shivered. Brad was quick to try to comfort her, with an arm around her shoulders, as he tried to get a peek down her tight black cheer sweater but was given a solid slap in the chest as a result of his efforts.

“What, seriously?” Brad frowned at her. “So you missed the ‘fed to the crocodiles’ part?”

Cat finally dropped her framing hands and looked to a moaning BJ, then back up to an excited Mickey. Watching Mickey form conclusions was like watching someone bash themselves in the head with a hammer, over and over again.

Painful to witness, but you just couldn’t turn away.

“No. Just…No. Probably not.”   Propping her chin in her hand, Cat simply muttered, to BJ sitting at her side, “And yet further evidence to your hypothesis that Black Holes are self-sustaining, but aren’t free thinking…Yay for you.”

BJ nodded in Mickey’s and Izzy’s direction, “I’m thinking science fair.”

“Funny,” Cat smirked with a shrug. “I was thinking mental ward.”

“Har-har.” Undeterred by the holier-than-thou-art Catherine Fox, Mickey turned to her with condescending eyes, “Well, if it doesn’t have a body in it, then why keep the disgusting thing in the first place?”

“That’s a very good question, Mickey.” Cat said thoughtfully surprised, head turning to stare with sightless eyes out the classroom window. All her thoughts were centered on a Pope, the one very much alive, now that the specters floating about today, had finally seen to it to give her a bit of a reprieve. “A very good question indeed.”

“I think we should ask him.” BJ offered, with a wiggle of her brow, and a nudge of her shoulder to Cat’s as her voice was resolute with determination.

“You know what,” Smiling at BJ, thoroughly pleased with her, Cat turning back towards her friend, agreed. Now that was what best friends were for. “I think you’re right.”

“So do I.” David silently concurred, his mind racing with the possible horrific implications of what it could mean if the use of iron was intentional and not an accidental rite. “So do I.” A rite to stop evil. Who was this Leonidas Pope and just what had he brought with him to The Fare?

Time to find out.

Chapter 4 – Two Worlds Collide (Spark Series, original fiction)

A cloaked figure stood directly in front of her, encompassing her total field of vision, staring down at her. There was really no other way to describe him, other than, well…

Cloaked.


Cause, boy was he covered up and in a way Cat had never seen anyone dress before, other than in old movies her Dad watched.

He dressed so oddly, that for a second, it gave her pause and she tried to catch her bearings.

She was still in the US and not in some desert Bazaar in Cairo, wasn’t she?

Cat could see so little of him, save a patch of tanned skin at his neck where a silver charm shaped like a beetle, with glowing fire lit eyes, hug tightly on a brown leather strap.

He looked so otherworldly, it was quite intimidating.

The stranger wore dark colors, made ambiguous by the shadows, which covered him from head to foot. Only his outline was distinguishable in the darkness of the alleyway, as the flickering of sunlight sporadically broke through the rolling clouds up above in blinding flashes.

So covered was he, that in fact even his eyes were veiled in mystery, shrouded with some sort of semi-transparent, flimsy dark covered gauze as if to hide the color of his eyes as well.

Strange.

From head to foot, he was covered, and wrapped tight.

So yeah, cloaked totally fit even if logically why he was dressed this way made little sense.

If Catherine would have had any sense at all, she would have been frightened half to death & screaming bloody-murder, instead she found herself inexplicably intrigued at this singular event in her life.

That feeling lasted, however for only about half a second…

“Did you really think we would allow you to murder one of our own again and not run you to ground?” His lightly covered eyes glowed back at her like two twin beams of light shining through a shroud of covering darkness. “I say your name – Chata – In disgust and stand before your resolute that even in the face of my approaching death at your hand, you will not take anyone else, at least not in this form. That I do swear.”

“Huh?” Was Cat’s immediate first thought.

Now instead of intrigued, she was dumbfounded and she struggled to figure out just what he was talking about.

He was speaking English, wasn’t he?

“Uh, murder? Run me to ground? Your death? I’m sorry, but…What? I haven’t murdered anyone and I certainly have no plans on killing you.” The situation was surreal. He seemed totally serious, if but a little mentally unbalanced, and at once Cat was extremely grateful that she wasn’t this Chata person. “Buddy, I don’t even know who you are or what in the heck are you talking about.  So spill, who are you? Who is this Chata you’re looking for, because Dude, that is so not me?”

“Buddy?” The knife eased back ever so slightly. Shock laced every syllable of his words. Cat didn’t need to see his face to imagine it. She heard it. Cat also heard his voice which flowed over her like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. Smooth, sweet and oh so rich it tarked the jaws. “I am sorry–Heck? But you did just say ‘heck’, did you not?”

“Um, yes.” Cat raised her eyebrows. Here he was, holding her at knife-point and she was likening her attacker’s voice to hot chocolate, while he apparently took exception to her verbage?

“Why?” He snapped.

Really?

Talk about some seriously bent priorities.

Evidently in this, at least, they were well matched.

“You’re taking exception to ‘heck’? Excuse my vernacular.” Gesh. Cat thought. He was more bent that she first thought and here she was fantasizing about him. She so needed to date more. “I would say the other ‘h’ word, but I don’t cuss. My father says it’s a habit unbecoming of a lady, so it displeases him and believe you/me, displeasing my father is never a good idea. He just gets all e’splody.”

“E’splody? Your father?”  The form in front of her shook his head as if it was having trouble comprehending the words coming out of her mouth. “And you saida lady’, like you are one.”

Wait. Was she speaking English? Cat wondered.

“Unbecoming of a lady?” The clocked figure asked. “You think of yourself as this…A lady?”

“Well,” Now she was getting a little affronted. Cat lowered her eyes to look at her 7Up t-shirt, then raised her eyes to his slowly. Oh, come on! Was it really that hard to notice? “Yes, I’m a lady. Admittedly I don’t dress like it, but it’s what I am regardless.”

“You are mortal?” The figure asked gasping in an accusatory tone and the knife eased back just a slightest bit more, but still close enough to deal a swift, fatal blow with deadly accuracy if need be.

Catherine’s eyebrows shot up high on her forehead.

The Twilight Zone soundtrack began to play on a repeating riff in her head as her mind raced to process: Da na-na-na, da na-na-na, da na-na-na…

Was this dude for real?

“Uh, huh.” Cat said so slowly, she just had to smile, even in the face of danger. The situation was too absurd to do anything otherwise. “Surprise – I’m a mortal! Were you expect something else? A fairy maybe?” Then as an afterthought she added. “They are immortal right?”

“Fairies? Yes, I suppose in a way. In comparison to you and I, they are immortal.” He answered automatically, but something seemed to give him pause. He then answered slowly, obviously growing more unsure of himself now as time went on. “But I just assumed you were something a bit different actually. And bigger.”

Mmkay

“Two things. First, that wasn’t a serious question actually, about the fairies, just wanted to clue you in on that little fact.” Cat pointed out. “It was a joke, cause you know, and this is my second point…Fairies don’t really exist.”

“They don’t?” No he seemed dumbfounded as well, shaking his head slowly.

And yet the funnies kept coming. Welcome to the club, pal, Cat thought, of the off-kilter at the back-forty.

“Look,” Cat said thoroughly perplexed. This was unlike any conversation she had ever had. This dude totally must be off his meds, but if one discounted the whole knife to the throat thing, he was beginning to seem relatively harmless so thoroughly lost in his utter confusion, was he. “I’m a lady, a mortal and not a fairy. Check, check and check. Now that we have all those three little finer points established, I just have to ask…Are you even operating on the same level of existence as I am?”

“I would have said no originally, but now I am not so sure.” He tilted his head, taking her question more seriously than she meant and even through their protective covering, she felt his eyes spearing her, pinning her with their intensity. “I think I must have mistaken you for something else.”

“No – Really? Buddy, I could have told you that from the beginning and saved us all some time, not to mention some embarrassment.”

“I am not embarrassed.” The figure said as he released the hold he had on her hair momentarily long enough to pull the thin, gauzy material away from over his eyes, letting it go, leaving it to dangle there on the side of the lower half of his still masked face. His hand reached back up to grasp her hair.

His eyes were unsettling.

They glowed at her from the backdrop of his darkness.

Cat’s breath caught.

It was more than a little disquieting to discover that it was neither the body check up against the wall, nor the knife blade at her throat which caused her present breathlessness.

Either of those would have been expected to be the cause, given the current situation.

That would have made sense, but no, no sensible reactions to crazy situations allowed for Catherine Xia Fox.

It was the eyes that stared back her, behind a shrouded face that stole her breath.

His eyes were unlike any eyes she had ever seen before now, and she knew or would she, from this day forward.

They were sliver eyes…

Glowing, luminescent hypnotic, swirling silver eyes.

Eyes that seemed to stare into her soul, searchingly, as if they were looking for something; eyes that seemed to gyrate in the way the rolling storm clouds overhead did.

They were breathtakingly beautiful…

Like liquid magic.

“Shake yourself loose, girl.” Cat reprimanded herself silently. First, there was the voice and now the eyes…

Twisted.

She was just twisted, crushing on her attacker.

Wasn’t this a warped, psychological condition? If not, it should be.

That’s it – Just wait until she got back to school. She was accepting a date from the first guy that asked her out!

And more importantly, she was accepting it from one that didn’t hold her at knife point.

A girl had to have some standards.

But apparently those standards were falling like a house of cards as she crazily relaxed into strong arms that held her tight, but not tight enough she couldn’t move if needed. The hold didn’t feel threatening. In fact, it felt anything but and if Cat wouldn’t have known better (again, hence the knife at her throat) she would have said the arms held her protectively.

Cradling her.

For the time being he seemed content to hold her still and just stare down at her.

And given the initial threat of his attack – And attack was such a harsh word really, no reason to describe it that way now – had all but blown away with the approaching storm, Cat was content to let him do so.

Cat could feel the contours of his chest, press against her own as he used his body as a sort of  pinning device, careful not to bruise.

Or maim.

She felt cradled in strong muscular arms, and not held against her will. In the silence he studied her so seriously.

She hummed deep in her throat as his scent tickled her nose.

He smelled of exotic spices, frankincense and…

Christmas.

Staring up in the general vicinity of his face, Cat dearly wished he would uncover the rest, so she could see him. Her heart thumped with this growing desire to see him fully revealed for her hungry eyes.

Was it irrational? Yes, most definitely, but that didn’t lessen the desire.

Sunlight burst in stuttering flashes at his back, outlining his form, making him seem imposingly huge, at the same time as eerily unknown, as he was romantically dangerous.

The seconds ticked on, as he studied her quietly and so very seriously, his glowing eyes stared at her in concentration, then in out right confusion, which seemed to mentally set him back.

She could tell this by the intensive tilting of his head as he studied her.

His hand, held fisted in her hair, did not pull. The hand that held the blade up to her throat, did not nick. His obviously powerful, rigidly held body seemed to sigh in resignation.

He was so close Cat could feel the warmth of his breath, through the fabric of the mask covering his face, onto her own. She knew no fear.

His breath smelled like ginger snaps and peppermint.

Ok, so she was waxing on about his voice, his eyes, his smell, his very nice body and his candy breath and despite the fact that he was holding a weapon on her, but it was all good.

Totally normal, right?

Cat sighed.

He father would be so ashamed of her.

She was totally bent and she knew it.

Wait till BJ found out about all this. She could just hear it now: “Leave it to Cat to fall, face first, for the first guy that pulls her into an alleyway at knifepoint. Only you pal. Only you.”

Well, she wasn’t actually doing anything wrong other than delaying the inevitable, Cat reasoned with herself. Why not get a little enjoyment out of the unique experience?

She wasn’t in any immediate danger.

It’s not like she didn’t have everything under control? Why should she put an end to this whole circumstance, when she had him exactly where she wanted him?

Pity if he caught onto that little fact too soon – It would just ruin all her fun.

“Who are you?” He demanded in a whisper. “Friend or foe? You are not who I assumed you were, but you are someone of great significance, of this I am sure. I feel the Spark of power within you. Aren’t you Divine?”

Aww, Cat thought. He thought I was someone of heavenly significance – Wasn’t that sweet?

Ok, so it was just south of that horrible pick-up line, “Did you hurt yourself, when you fell from heaven?” But the way he said it, made it sound so much more romantic, so she was giving him props, as well as a free pass.

“Am I divine? No.” The hand tangled in her hair, ran a thumb behind her ear to gently get her attention, for her to answer his question. He was so gentle, holding her at knifepoint the way he was – An utter gentleman. “Of great significance…?” Once again, Cat sighed dreamily. It was the second tender nudge that worked however, and got her to continue. She trembled at his touch, answering distractedly, after clearing her throat, staring into his eyes, “…Well, my Dad kinda likes to think so. As for the first question, well it’s kinda hard to form lasting friendships with a knife being held at my throat, but then again… I’m a different sorta girl.” Cat shrugged and tilted her head down, while looking up at him through her lashes, “Wanna be pals? Sure. I’m all for it. Put down the knife. I don’t want to have to take it away from you and risk possibly hurting you in the process?”

“Pals?” The look she gave him totally contradicted her words and left him feeling a bit dazed. Off balance. Could it be that he misinterpreted her power? Was she not a Spark? How could that be, given who he knew her mother to be? “Disarm me?”

“Don’t sound so disbelieving.” Cat felt like throwing up her hands in frustration, blinking rapidly, she shook off the haze he so unintentionally weaved around her like a silken web. “Yes, I can disarm you. I don’t want to, but I will. It would just be a bad way to start our friendship, don’t you think, especially if you got hurt? I would like to avoid it obviously for just that reason, if I could.”

“Friendship?” He shook his head, and his shoulder length dark brown locks pulled free of the scarf, their tips danced on his shoulders, as he took a slight hesitant step back. Catherine immediately mourned the loss, but loved the sight of his hair. It was the color of rich, dark soil freshly plowed and brimming with life.  “You want me to voluntarily put down my weapon?”

“You know I am beginning to feel like a track that skips on my iPod and it’s beginning to bug. Put down your weapon? Yes. I kinda need you to do that, or else.” He looked so confused that Cat felt a moments pity for him, that was until she realized he still held the knife at her throat – Enough was enough already. “Buddy, you are the one that jerked me into the alleyway. I am just a passing, young and helpless, innocent bystander here. There is no need for weapons, so put it away.”

“Innocent? Although I am catering to the idea, fully that ideal has yet to be fully concluded.” Looking over his shoulder, towards the exit of the alleyway he appeared to be mentally weighing something. He looked back at her and although relatively sure he now knew what she was, testing her he asked, “Speak freely – What do you know of being innocent? Are you, or are you not, a Spark?”

“So, is this like a test, now? Really? Now?” Cat raised her left hand to rest easily, casually on the arm holding the knife pressing still at her throat. Why not? “Well, let’s see. Am I a Spark? Since I have no idea what that is, I’m going to go with no. As for innocent? Yep, that’s me, trying to get to school on the last day before Summer’s End break, only to be jerked into an alleyway by some strange boy…”

“Boy?” He instantly scoffed, and Cat imagined he did so with a roll of his lip, since she couldn’t see them, she guessed and it was a pretty confident one especially since he just sounded clearly that insulted. “There are no boys here. I am a man.”

He sounded so affronted.

It was cute really.

Cat hid her smile with a biting of her lip, finishing, “…Only to find a knife pressed, oh so frighteningly, to my throat. Yes,” She patted his arm, rolling a finger in the air at him. “You know, I’m that kinda innocent. I didn’t start this,” Cat made reference to their current situation, by waving a hand in the air. “You did.”

“Yes, well you do not look as terrified as you should, given the circumstances, so I had my doubts.” He shifted just enough, for Cat to see he was starting to feel a bit ill at ease given their present situation.

Good, Cat thought, it’d serve him right.

The blade of the knife wobbled, just a tad. She wasn’t a Spark. He had seen no lie in her eyes when she had made that claim. They had made quite the error, he thought to himself. How was that possible? Or was this something else entirely, something they couldn’t have fathomed. Could she actually be a Spark and not know it? If that was the case, how much more dangerous had the current state of affairs become with that possible revelation?

How could her parents have placed her in such a precarious situation?

“A reprimand from my attacker? Seriously?” Cat winked, bolstered she was winning this contest and all without a single blow thrown. Now that would impress her father. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll work on it.”

“And so you should.” He nodded, looking down into her face.

He did seem to have the advantage in that he could clearly see her, with his back to the storm-tossed evading sun, while he remained covered in shadows. Despite their situation, he didn’t seem like a bad guy, just a bit confused and a lot out of his element.

“Operating under the assumption that I have challenged a wronged party,” He said. “Well, this does seem kind of crass of me, doesn’t it?”

Crass?

“Holding a knife to my throat?” Cat asked with raised brows, holding her left hand by her face, she mirrored the measurement with her fingers. “Just a tad.”

“Now I seem to be at a crossroad as to how to distract myself from the current quandary with any semblance of remaining honor.”

Quandary?

He was just too much.

Cat smiled, she couldn’t help it. “Quite the pickle.”

“I do not suppose we could just forget this whole mistaken happenstance ever occurred, hum?”

“Boone-doggle.” Cat nodded, then clarified at the mystified tilt of his head, “No big deal.” Cat waved her left hand at him, “What’s a little physical assault between friends.”

“What?” He had the nerve to gasp in outrage. “There was no physical assault here. I have not harmed you in any way. I have committed no such crime. It was nothing more than a common faux pas, as I confronted you.”

“Seriously? Obviously your definition of holding one at knifepoint, differs from mine. Denial is your defense? So you mean this little pulling-a-knife thing on me and all was what, a little misunderstanding? And if that’s the case then let me just say now – Wow – but that defense sucks. Just so you know there, Snookems, here in the good old US of A, holding someone against their will at knifepoint is classified as assault. Is that unfair?” Cat asked, pretending to think about it while scratching her chin. “Maybe more so for me, than for you, but thems the breaks. Commit a felony, suffer the consequences. Yada, yada, yada. Welcome to America!”

“Now you are just being facetious.” He groused.

Cat smiled, he talked like no one she knew. “You aren’t from around here are you? I can tell by the way you talk.”

“What is wrong with the way I talk?” His asked as his grouse turned into a dower grumble, but she ignored him.

“Given that, I’ll give you a bit of a break & seriously consider letting this whole incident drop.” Cat smiled mischievously up at him. “For a price.”

“A price is it – Are we bargaining now?”

“Apparently so, given the current circumstance and me being innocent and all, I say it’s warranted,” Cat nodded. “How about you?”

“Oh, by all means, please carry on.” He did a bit of eye rolling himself. That was until he felt the accidental nick from her dagger that she held pointed at his chest.

Hmm.

The same dagger she had apparently been holding this whole time, stationed just so, to slice in through his ribs, directly into his heart if need be.

He glance down, sucking air through his teeth, “You have held that on me this whole time?”

It was an accusation and to say he sounded downright angry was an understatement.

Hey, wait just a darn minute!  “What, you have the sole authority of holding someone at knifepoint, here?” Cat shrugged, “I just thought it would be more fun if I played along too, to see where it took us. Now back to the whole payment thing…”

“No.” He denied her. A taint of betrayal shaded his voice. “I thought you avowed you were an innocent? Did you lie?”

“Course I did.” Cat looked at him wide-eyed, really trying to sell the innocent thing. He looked so mad, it was as if his eyes glowed brighter. Dangerously brighter. This was the most fun she had had, on a school morning, in ages. “But I didn’t say I was stupid.”

The shadows around him, already dark seemed to deepen as he glowered down at her, the storm overhead and all around him strangely seemed to unify, as if reflecting his moods.

The air quaked.

Energy seemed to crackle through the air. The hair on her arms seemed to stand on end.

But that was ridiculous, Cat waved it off as something else struck her.

Distracting her.

A girl had her priorities, after all.

His chest puffed up. He actually bristled at her.

Nice.

Cat had never actually seen anyone pull that off until now and he did so in spades.

The dangerous guy, all covered in cloaks, scarves and whatever else that was hiding his face, with his whole mass practically hiding in the shadows…The one who held a long dangerous, deadly blade at her throat, actually pouted.

Cat snickered.

Super cuteness.

“Oh come on, don’t be that way, and here I thought we were getting along wonderfully.”

“If one discounted the knife pointed at my heart, you could say so, yes.” He gave up a long-suffering sigh at her smile, she dazzled up at him at his response. Her green eyes sparkled and she was entirely too confident, he knew, for a young woman in her position. “You could have disarmed me at any time, could you not?”

“Maybe.”

“You still could?”

Again, she simply shrugged, “Maybe.”

“That’s why you never once, not once, looked afraid from the very second I dragged you into the alleyway.”

At her third shrug, as she open her mouth to speak, he released the hold he had ever so lightly on the hair at the nape of her neck, to stop the words before they were formed with a single finger against her lips. He answered for her, nodding, “Maybe. That is what you were going to say, correct?”

At the contact of that calloused finger against her lips, Cat shivered as Goosebumps exploded over the surface of her body, sending her limbs tingling with excitement.

Expectance.

Gah.

That simple touch, so feather light seemed far more dangerous than the knife still held at her throat.

At least for her heart.

Cat gulped. What was wrong with her? The sound of her gulp echoed easily down the long cavernous alleyway and her heart raced like a thousand galloping horses in her chest.

As dangerous things went, if she had her rathers, she could however have easily done without the knife, but of that one tender touch Cat wanted to study its effects just a teeny bit more.

Holding his finger against her lips, for a moment he seemed content to let her.

“If you could have so easily gotten away, why did you stay?” It didn’t make sense to him. He stared down at her lips, seemingly fascinated as well. His finger moved, a minuscule movement, but it was there.

A fingertip kiss.

Back and forth.

“Who are you?” He whispered the words, but the desire in them reverberated like a loud gunshot in her ear. “What are you?”

Why lie? With her shrug, his finger fell from her lips and she instantly felt bereft.

“Curious.” She whispered back bravely.

Her lips throbbed.

Her answer made sense to him.

She couldn’t see his smile, but she easily saw the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, as he said, “At times curiosity, is a dangerous thing and should be avoided at all costs.”

Nevertheless he stepped forwards towards her, crowding her closer.

Closer to danger.

Her breath clutched painfully in her chest.

Oh, tilt.

His fingers found their way back to tangle into her hair at her nape, as if of their own volition.

Cat began to breathe heavily.

“Not so dangerous,” Cat’s hand slid up to the hand still holding the knife to her throat. Funny that she had forgotten about it and though she knew she could disarm him with just a slight flick of her wrist, she made no further movement to do so. What the heck was she doing? Her Dad would be so disappointed in her. “I’m thinking.”

“Are you? Thinking that is.” As her eyelids dropped heavy over darkening green eyes, he knew she wasn’t. One of them had to, for both their sakes. “This can’t happen. This is wrong.”

“It doesn’t feel wrong.” Cat’s eyes snapped open wide to stare up at him. “Strangely enough, it feels just about perfect.”

Perfect?

Reality, at least for him, came crashing back at her words and he leaned back away from her, as far as his splintering will would allow. He was desperate to get away from the spell she seemed to cast so effortlessly over him and yet just as desperate to stay.

No matter how he looked at it, he knew what he felt for her, and her for he, could never be…

If it was true, she was not a Spark and was an average, run-of-the mill, everyday mortal, he knew their paths could never mesh. Who he was, what he was capable of and the life he led would just be too hard for her to even begin to understand. And that was completely beside the fact that even if she ever did understand, just being near him would be far too dangerous for her for more reasons than her would like to contemplate.

However if she was indeed a Spark, and she somehow lived her life unaware of this, or if she knew and just lied about it, he knew Fate pulled their destiny in opposite directions, in immediate conflict with one another. If she was a Divine Spark, her destiny lay in the path of the Chata…

…While his destiny lay in the path of her utter and total destruction.

Chapter 2 – A Storm Brewing (Spark Series, original fiction)

Ow – Hey!” Cat shouted in surprise, at suddenly finding herself once again on the mat. Her head was still spinning from how quickly she had gotten there and to top it off, she was kinda ticked off at her self for not seeing that attack coming.

The previous smile by her father had been a ploy.

He tricked her into complacency.

Pushing up off the floor, after flicking her hair out of her face, her pigtail now askew she frowned up at him. “Was that really necessary?”

“Yes.” John said, running a hand over his chin and his long mustache, while tapping her in the forehead with a finger on the other. “And highly entertaining.”

“You amuse too easily.” Cat sounded downright disgruntled, John thought with a laugh. It served her right for being so cocky, he thought with a mental dusting off his hands, for a father’s job well done.

“Must be my old age.”

But as jobs went, raising a teenage daughter by yourself was one that was never really over & one of the hardest jobs he had ever had, and knew he ever would.

It topped his list as his most important.

Especially his.

Raising both of his big hands, John settled them on her shoulders, looking down at her. As much as he hated to ask, he knew he had to. “You all packed?”

“Yes, Dad.”  Cat tried not to wiggle out from underneath his grasp in excitement and looked up at him calmly. “BJ plans on bringing me home for a pit-stop after school to pick up my bags.”

“Good, good.” John nodded, his mind now mentally running down all his ‘need to do’ lists before he left, while trying desperately to keep his mind off the reason he had to leave. “I wish I didn’t have to leave today of all days, but it can’t be avoided.”

Something dark was stirring.

“I know, Dad.” Cat sighed. She was old enough that his upcoming trip excited her with the prospect of being father free for a few days, yet still young enough to have it hurt her heart a bit that her father was having to leave for her birthday. “We celebrated my birthday last night. Me and my new boots thank you, by the way.”

“I just wish I didn’t…” John began.

“I know, Dad.” Cat interrupted.

“What about all the numbers I gave you, in case you need to get in touch with me?” John frowned at the insistent, nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. It was either that, or his father’s guilt which was huge at the moment, but something felt wrong. Off. “You have those, right?”

“Stored into my phone as we speak.” Cat said, then adding before he could ask, “I also gave them to Ms. Bo, BJ’s grandma, since she’ll be my keeper while you’re gone. That way she’ll have them as well…Just in case.”

Just in case?

John fought to cover his shiver.

Those words could cover so many very horrible things, John thought frowning and parental worry immediately settled heavily onto his shoulders, with added weight thanks to who Catherine was.

Today was the day she would begin to be hunted.

Preyed upon and not just for who she was, but because of what she could do.

Fight.

Most parents, he knew, would worry about an extended trip away from their child, but this was different. They were different. Cat was different…

Special.

And that allotted him a few, i.e. a million, additional worries to add to the basics.

Namely evil.

An evil he knew, that even now, searched the world for her, for its own nefarious intent.

Her destruction.

“I don’t like leaving you alone.” John held up his hand, signaling her silence as she quickly opened her mouth to speak. “I know you won’t be alone, alone, you’re staying with the Antiope’s and Barbra Jean, but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m a dad, so worrying comes with the territory. Deal. Plus, just knowing I won’t be able to get to you if something happens and you need me. I hate that most of all.”

“I know, Dad.” It wouldn’t be good for her Dad to see how kind of excited she was that he was going to be going away for a few days, even if it was to visit a woman, on another continent, far, far away. A woman she had never met, or spoke too. A woman she knew little, next to nothing, about…Her mother. “But please don’t worry, “I’ll be fine and I’ll hardly notice you’re gone.”

John cocked his eyebrow at that. “That doesn’t help.”

“Just think how happy you’ll be to see me when you get back?” Cat pushed on. “Absence and all that stuff, right? And as much as I love my birthday gifts of new boots and iPod, maybe you’ll even be so happy to see me when you get back that you’ll buy me a car for belated gift.”

John frowned at her, while a smile at her look of pure innocence lingered under the surface.

“It could happen.” Cat harrumphed at his dark scowl.

Leave it to Cat to lighten his heart. She just always could. “Keep dreaming, Kid. I won’t be gone that long, or miss you…That much.”

Cat stared at him blank faced and stoic.

John laughed, reaching out he rubbed the top of her head, while she swatted at his arm, “Not long enough, I say. But all Dad’s-not-so-funny stuff aside, really, I’ll be fine while you’re gone. Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help it, it’s kinda my job.” Pulling her into his big bear hug of an embrace, John held her tight, dropping his chin to rest on the top of her head. It was a job he had traded his real name, his heritage and the woman he loved to make sure it was done right.  “If I could avoid going I would, but you know I can’t.”

Her royal pain-in-the-butt mother, as Cat often referred to her, had requested, no strike that, make that demanded his presence.

Cat hated her.

Cat bristled at the notion that her mother, who hadn’t had a thing to do with her since her birth, dared to demand anything of them, while expecting immediate obedience at a mere phone call after years of no contact at all.

Like it was her due – Quite frankly, it was insulting.

Infuriating.

But Cat knew, still, her Dad refused to accept Cat disrespecting her mother, in any way, due to all of the sacrifices he claimed she made.

As if.

But Cat, internally stewing at the mere idea of her Mom, let it drop. Her Dad was always so prickly on the matter.

“I know, Dad.” Cat said yet again. Instead of getting into another argument with her father regarding her mother, and what rights she had, or shouldn’t have for that matter, Cat hugged her Dad close. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cherry pipe tobacco that always seemed to cover his martial arts uniform, Cat sighed.

Pulling back slightly, Cat smiled, looking up at him, “And while your gone, I promise that when I run off with the first seedy drifter who comes to town, I will make sure to leave you a note telling you when the baby’s due. I will also leave a detail account of what times it will be best to see me in prison after my immanent incarceration for being busted for opening up a meth lab with my new hubby, in our effort to pay for his medical bills, treating his advanced HIV.”

“Good, honey,” John smiled, leaning down he kissed his daughter on the nose. “Just as long as you leave a note.”

Cat laughed as she pushed out of his arms.

“Want me to make you some breakfast before you head off to school?”

Cat froze at the offer.

“Breakfast—You?” She grimaced at the mere mention of breakfast by her father. The man couldn’t cook anything, but tea and coffee and the only reason why he didn’t ruin those was because he had a coffee maker…

Thank god for the invention of small kitchen appliances & TV diners!

Breakfast, by Dad, was a big fat…

Oh heck no!

Cat didn’t enjoy food poisoning.

“I’ll just have a cup of java this morning, Dad.” Cat rushed away. She walked quickly to the changing screen in the corner, and began slipping out of her early morning practice uniform. She reached for her school clothes that she had stacked there. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Catherine, you aren’t starting that horrendous I-refuse-to-eat girly trend, are you?”

“Dad.” Catherine said exasperated from behind the screen as she stepped into her low-rise, boot cut, dark blue Levis and shimmied them up her hips.

“Oh don’t ‘Dad’ me in that tone, Catherine Xia Fox. I won’t have it and I won’t have you skipping meals, ending up as scary-skinny as those two girls in your class, Mickey Jackson or Isabella Pepper. It’s just not healthy.”

Looking at her toned arms, ripped stomach, and muscular thighs now encased in tight Levis, as she reached for her vintage tee shirt, Cat sighed with disappointment. Sticking her head through the hole of her much loved green 7Up T-shirt, she pulled it over her head, tugging it down into place.

Be as skinny as Mickey and Izzy? “Not likely to happen, thanks to you, Dad.”

“Good to hear it.” John nodded absentmindedly, his worries about her habits soothed for the time being, while other worries began to grow. “Worrying about you not eating is the last thing I need, on top of the fact that I’m going to be out of the country for a few weeks.”

Even though she was looking forward to spending time with BJ for days on end, the thought of her Dad being gone quite so long gave her pause, although she would never admit it to him, “Few weeks? As in more than two? You really think it will be that long?”

“I’m shooting for two, but yes,” John sighed. “At the outside it could take more than two, possibly three.”

“Is what she’s calling you halfway around the world about really that important?”

Sacrifice.

“I don’t know yet.” John said flatly, walking over to the window, he looked out the slits of the blinds as the sun broke into the day through the trees overhead, a little more fully over the houses across the railroad tracks and down the road. The sun’s rays were shining down upon him and his Studio, in all their glory.

Sunlight…

So rare a thing here.

The Fare was shrouded often by a dense layer of fog, masked by a canopy of tall dark green oaks that seemed to reach out, interlocking themselves gnarly branch to gnarly branch. The tree’s outstretching limbs worked like nature’s veil, blocking the view of the town from the wary, watchful eyes of those who dared to look down upon it from The Outlook, the rest-stop intersection of the four surrounding mountain ranges that seemed to cage it in from all sides.

None of the town was visible save for a few of the highest limestone building-peeks from within, that broke through the dense foliage covering in sharp unfriendly steeples, quite resembling to those with a wary eye, pointy, stained teeth.

Like the bowels of an open mouth ready to bite at any given moment.

Darkness was a regular occurrence in The Fare, but this darkness was something different in that deeper dark seemed to finger the edges of The Fare’s natural shadows.

Was that the night falling, or was something else coming closer?

The question haunted him.

Why had his wife summoned him clear across the world when they had worked years to make sure no one knew both he and Cat still existed…Why now, with the time of The Betweenness so close at hand for Lughnasadh harvest season, as the days grew shorter and the nights, already long, longer?

This time where the threshold between this world and the next shifted, allotting a tear in the veil for that which must always be kept out, an opening to begin to try to slither through.

“I just don’t know.”

Her dad, the most omnipresent, dangerous man she knew, sounded worried, and for just a second, scared even.

He was her hero, her anchor her touchstone and as much as she wanted him to go, so she could revel being out from underneath his often dominating, fatherly, sometimes overprotective shadow, Cat was now having second thoughts about him going…Just because of his tone.

Uncertainty.

It shook her.

Worry was a two-way street and they had always taken care of each other. Always. Slipping easily from budding adult, to frightened child in need of reassurance, the change was almost seamless and Cat asked, “Should I be worried here, Daddy?”

Fear.

Her voice trembled with it.

John closed his eyes, shaking his head, trying to clear the dower thoughts from his thoughts with a physically effort.

Should she be worried?

Most definitely, he answered silently.

He was.

How did one even begin to explain to ones child that all of those monsters you had taught them not to fear while they were growing up, not only actually existed, but were much, much worse than any movie or any TV ever presented them.

Not only that, but that they hunted…

Her.

Valiantly he swallowed the bulk of his concerns and infused his voice with as much arrogance as he could muster, to get a rise out of her, and manipulate her confidence back where he needed it to be while he was away. “No. But you can if you like. After all, I won’t tell you not to do something that I’m sure your young, underdeveloped, trivial, teenage brain can’t handle at the moment.”

“Hey!” Cat sputtered, sticking her head out from behind the screen, she glared at his back.

He felt the glare stab his back, and for a moment, John was satisfied the fear in her was gone.

“Yes, teenager, I know how much that word displeases you…” She hated when he the word ‘teenager’ like it was some type of affliction, needing to be cured. “As in an almost grown person who can feed and dress herself without any help from the parental unit. Strange concept, for you, I know.”

Ok, moment over.

“Watch it, Kid.” Her father instinctively warned and Cat flinched at the reprimand so softly given, her anger haven taken her confidence a step too far. Her Dad’s quiet voice for some reason got to her more than his screaming, or growling voice. It just seemed so much more menacing.

“Sorry, Dad.” Cat muttered ducking quickly back behind the screen. Letting the snarky attitude drop, knowing when it came to honor, her father tolerated little, if no, disrespect.

Cat continued now, as she finished getting dressed, from behind the screen. “Look Dad, I promise you I’ll try not to worry and I’ll be on my best behavior, if you do the same.”

“Deal.” John nodded, arms crossed, he stood, still looking out at the rising sun. The sky, as much as he could see of it, was for the most part in beautiful hues of dark blue, purple, pink and orange…Then it was black – Just a touch of bruising black. Enough of which to make you wonder. Doubt.  “The Antiope’s are doing me a great favor by taking you on and because they are, it’s probably the only reason I even feel semi-ok with leaving you here without me. I know you’ll be safe there, with them.”

“Got that right.” Cat snorted. “Staying with BJ and her family will be like staying at one of the safes at Fort Knox loaded with gold bars…Only safer.”

Cat brushed her bangs off her forehead with one hand and reached for her belt with the other. “The Antiope Ranch is probably the safest place in town. Town heck, it’s probably the safest place this side of the planet, given their penchant for security and their love of all things that shoot dangerous, deadly projectiles at live objects.”

“You’re right, Gabby and Ms. Boudica are forces to be reckoned with, and I pity anyone who tries to take on those women.” John frowned, remembering something about Gabby, BJ’s mom. “I talked to Ms. Boudica at the post office this morning and she mentioned Gabby coming home. Is Gabby still at Fort Benning at the training seminar? I thought you said she was home already?”

Crap.

“Did I?” Cat was hoping he would have not found that out. Nevertheless it was a moot point because, “BJ’s mom is suppose to be back from Fort Benning next weekend, so really if you look at it that way, we will only have a week where her mom, Ms. Bo, is the sole chaperone. So her being here or not is all semantics really.” Please look at it that way, Cat silently pleaded. “And even without Ms Gabby, we will have more than enough parental supervision in Ms. Bo…That lady is an variable dragon! No way will me and BJ be able to get away with doing anything we’re not supposed to be doing, or will anything be able to happen to us with Ms. Bo on the case, that’s for sure.”

John sighed quietly, thinking, “I’m counting on it.”

Sliding the brown leather in through the belt loops of her jeans, Cat frowned in sudden realization, quickly followed by frustration.

Saying it out loud, thinking of the stay with BJ just that way, was definitely putting a damper on her Dad’s immanent departure…

She was likely going to have just as much supervision with him away, maybe more, than she had with him here.

How was that even possible?!

And with The Beautiful Feast of The Valley just around the corner, The Fare’s biggest festival it was likely that the only way she and BJ would be allowed to attend, would be with Ms. Bo in tow.

Crap, crap and double crap.

“I know,” John said. “And trust me it’s not Ms. Boudica’s abilities in question here, but the fact that you ladies will be out at the ranch all by…”

“Dad, stop. BJ’s Mom is a highly trained sniper, just like Ms. Bo before her. There isn’t a weapon made they can’t shoot with deadly, spooky accuracy.” Cat said as she sat down on the bench behind the screen and picked up one well worn brown boot and stomped into it. “Every woman on that ranch carries a rifle on their saddles, while carrying on their duties on the ranch and every one of them trained BJ to follow in their footsteps. They are like a bunch of mini-Rambo’s…Only smarter & with better fashion sense.”

Hopping on one foot, Cat picked up the other boot, yanking it on, saying as patiently as possible, “You’ve seen BJ in her shooting competitions too, you know how good she is.”

“I know, but…”

“BJ is an amazing shot and plays with big, huge weapons that kill things like most girls play with Barbie’s. Who in their right mind would mess with those women out there on the ranch, I ask you, even despite the fact that Ms. Gabby’s not there? Nobody that’s who.” After adjusting her jeans over the left leg of her boot, Cat stood and looked at her self in the mirror, pulling her hair free of the rubber band; she shook it back over her shoulders, and it fell like a dark black, silky curtain. Running her fingers through the long black, corkscrew strands, she pulled any tangles free until there were none. “Plus, it’s not like I’m a shrinking violet myself. You saw to that. I’ll be safe Dad, more than safe. No worries.”

Only one item remained to complete her wardrobe for today. Reaching down for the sheathed dagger, resting on the bench, Cat propped her right booted foot on its wooden surface and slipped the dagger inside, before adjusting her jeans.

There.

Cat took in her appearance, with a tilt of her head.

Her wardrobe was irrefutably hopeless, new birthday boots aside.

“No worries?” John scoffed. Only a child could say that so indifferently.

“Yep.” With a shrug offered up to her reflection, Cat began the process of pulling her hair back into a pigtail. “I mean gosh, even despite who I will be staying with, we are talking Pinnacle Thoroughfare, here – The boring tourist capital of the world! Ignoring the fact that, ok, we gots a few paranormal hot spots…”

“A few?”

“So we are known as the most haunted small town in America,” Cat rolled her eyes at his interruption from behind the safety of the changing screen. “So what? That’s a ghosts thing, nothing more. No big deal. They don’t ever actually do anything anyway, other than walk around and moan a lot. Annoying? Sure. Harmful? Not likely. Aside from that, the Fare has nothing spectacular going on.”

John reminded her, although he knew she remembered, “What about The Beautiful Feast of The Valley annual festival.”

“Ms. Bo probably won’t let us go anyway.” Cat sighed dropping her hands to her sides. Dammit, he remembered, “She hasn’t let BJ go since that whole unfortunate New York psycho incident, where the idiot thought he was some second coming and was communicating with Satan and sacrificed a cow in the center of downtown by hitting it with his Prius, then trying to cut out its heart with a pudding spoon.”

“Captain Cath Troy of the local PD had to tase him to get him to drop the spoon and back away from the cow.”

“Don’t tase me, bro!” Cat quipped in time with the memory. “She dropped him like she was a Fembo.”

“A what?”

“A female Rambo.” Cat laughed. “Classic.”

“Horrific was more like it.” John marveled at the ability of the young to laugh and rationalize the most horrendous things and then move on. “The Beautiful Feast is a celebration of the dead.” John reminded her. “And a very dangerous time, with dangerous people with crazy ideas about…Don’t ever forget that.”

“I know what it is.”

“It’s important Catherine for you always to keep up your guard and don’t become complacent.” Especially now, John silently added.

“I know, Dad.”

“As for the festival, I don’t let you go for a reason and it’s not because I’m being ‘Mean Dad’, it’s simply because I care and I worry. A festival for the dead is no place for children.”

“I know that too.” Cat huffed as she pulled the ends of her pigtail tight, whispering under her breath, “And I’m not a child.” However she then said aloud, “But they have candied apples, carnival games and a Ferris wheel.”

It was the same argument he had heard from her for the past few years. It never worked then either, “Cat.” John warned.

“Ok, fine.” Cat shook her head, scrunching her lips in disappointment. “Like I said, Ms. Bo probably wouldn’t let us go anyway.”

“Good for her. I know today is the last day of the semester, before school goes into its summer’s end break for four weeks,” John nodded reassured, loving how The Fare’s year around school schedule limited the trouble the kids of The Fare could get into thanks to a school year devised in a carefully calculated fashion, divided out into longer semesters and modest breaks. “So since the festival is out, do you and BJ have any other plans?”

“I think BJ and I are going to be in for a boring Summer’s End. Well, other than watching Morri Zulu, David’s aunt, making him plant some plant called houseleek on their roof, nadda going on, Dad.”

John chuckled at the thought that anyone could make the monster David Zulu do anything. “Maybe it’s a seasonal thing.”

“Or a nut-house crazy thing.” Cat shook her head in wonderment at the often crazy things David’s aunt made him do.

“Location, location, location.”

Cat laughed at her Dad, as well as the memory of David complaining about his aunt’s request when he stopped by for a visit last Friday. Sitting on her bed, his huge shoulders hunched at the very thought of his crazy aunt and yet one more of her crazy notions, but she was all David had, so he put up with it.

Barely.

Squatting down, Cat grabbed her purse, setting it on the bench behind her, she rummaged through it, looking for her make-up.

“Apparently the spirits have been talking to Morri again.” Cat pulled the mascara from her purse and applied it liberally to her lashes as she looked in the mirror. She blinked, then switched to the other eye. “You know how she gets when the days start to get darker. But other than making David do something he has plainly stated he will not do, which I know she will, and would kinda like to see now that I think about it, The Fare will be a snooze fest for sure while you’re gone and while I’m out for school break. So yeah, no worries.”

With his sword carelessly tossed over his right shoulder now, John turned back towards the screen.

Thinking.

His frown grew as a deep instinctual burning spear of apprehension shot through his chest, like the hook in the mouth of a fish…

It just wouldn’t let him go completely.

Something stirred and yanked hard.

But what?

Was there something to this feeling of foreboding that ran deeper than his parental worry?

After sixteen years in hiding, had the Divine destiny caught up to his baby girl?

Had she been called to the frontline of a war he knew would never, or could ever be won?

Time would tell, but by the time it finally saw fit to let him in on it’s little secret however, would it be too late?

The questions were many and not one did John Fox have answers for any of them.

John couldn’t tell Catherine for sure what was causing anxiety, especially since the circumstance surrounding his departure, heading back to his wife’s homeland, were innately different than any circumstance in their past experiences.

Horribly different.

And if her Dad had his way, no matter what his wife demanded, Catherine never would.

He was in fact leaving this afternoon regardless of his growing trepidation at the very thought of being away from his teenage daughter.

He had too.

You see, he, after all, had been called by nobility and a warrior even greater than himself…

He had been called by a Divine Spark of the Blavatsky, Russian Nobel line.

“Yes, yes…I’m sure you will just expire from the sheer boredom of the tedium while I’m away, being forced to be in the presence of your best friend for days on end. I tell you Catherine, I do not envy Ms. Boudica having to run herd on you two girls for weeks at a time.”

“Aw, don’t be jealous.” Cat did a dance of joy in place, pumping her fist at her side, all worries gone now that her Dad sounded far more secure. And when he was secure, so was she. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing, excited heart, Cat said as nonchalantly as you please, “We won’t give her any trouble at all.”

It didn’t fool John for a minute.

“Yeah, I believe that.” John casually said to his daughter, “Stop fiddling with your make-up and come out from behind there and go get your coffee so we can get you off to school today in a timely manner. Didn’t you want to leave early to get some alone time in the gym?”

“Yes, Sir.” Cat shook her head at her reflection in the mirror as she looked at body encased into her normal tomboy school attire of low rise, boot cut blue jeans, her  favorite new brown leather boots, one of her vintage tee shirts, of which her collection was huge and trusty bomber jacket as she slipped it up her shoulders after pulling it on, pulling her hair out from under the collar. No matter the time of the year, the air was always chilly in The Fare. “I want to get there at least forty minutes early, so I have time for a good run through on the weights before athletics starts.”

She was hopelessly, fashionably inept of that it was obvious, Cat thought at the vision that looked back at her.

She seriously needed to update her wardrobe, Cat reflected, jerking her jacket firmly into place as she turned and flinched almost instantly as a result of the action, or she would never get a date to the upcoming Homecoming school dance.

Cat’s side pinched her and she stopped mid-stride after having taken a step towards the exit of the screen. Pulling up her shirt slightly, she saw a small bruise forming on her hip from her Dad’s punishing throw from earlier.

Perfect.

“How much time do I have left before I have to go?” Cat gave the bruise a put upon shrug, dropping her shirt back down, shaking her right boot, to ease the dagger hid inside in place, her thoughts absentmindedly continuing on their previous route that it totally must be her attire that kept her from getting dates, right?

That had to be it.

“You still have a little time left.” John said, watching her walk out from behind the screen. Looking at his daughter’s petite form, he couldn’t help but notice that she always looked so skinny, prompting him to ask, “Are you sure you aren’t hungry? I can make you some porridge?”

That would stick to her bones.

“Porridge – Real life porridge? As in Goldie Locks? Oh, wow Dad, that’s so tempting too. I mean that.” As tempting as stabbing yourself in the eye, willingly, with a white-hot poker, Cat added silently. “But just look at the time…”

Escape.

Cat ran, hell-bent, towards her long bamboo, cylindrical artist case, which held her drawings for her finals in art class. It was sitting next to her brown leather backpack, leaning against the wall on the far side of the Studio.

Everything was already together and she didn’t have to go searching for it – Thank God for small favors!

Hurriedly, hoping for a quick escape, she slung them both up on her shoulder, along with her sandbag purse as she lifted her left arm and looked at her watch, all the while her feet kept moving away from her Dad and as far away from the horror of the kitchen as possible, “Oh, gosh!” She snapped her fingers. “Darn the luck. I’m gonna be late, Dad.”

John Fox pouted a glower at her. She acted like his cooking was akin to the devil – It wasn’t that bad.

Was it?

“Love you, take care, have fun, be careful, see you when you get back.” Cat said quickly, backing up so fast she almost tripped over her own feet. “Gotta boot.”

He looked so cute glowering at her from across the room however, that she just had to go dashing back to him. From feet away, she jumped, arms extended, just like she had always done as a little girl, knowing he would catch her. He always did. Wrapped in his arms, she hugged him tightly and then leaned back enough to kiss him on the cheek and smile in his eyes, shaped so much like her own.

“Boot?” John asked, looking down at Cat as she pushed free of his arms and fled back towards the door. “I have no idea what that means, this ‘boot’?”

“You know,” Cat called out over her shoulder as she skidded to a stop in front of the door. “Like, as in my beautiful new ‘boots to pavement’.”

Frowning at her, John shrugged, still not getting it. Sometimes the generation gap was just huge.

Vastly huge.

Cavernous.

“As in ‘I have to go’.” Cat said plainly as possible, for her father’s very un-hip benefit, grabbing the doorknob she turned back towards him with raised eyebrows.

John gave out a very put upon sigh. Sometimes, his daughter made him so very tired. “Catherine, honey, why didn’t you just say that? One day soon, daughter of mine, we are going to have to set about having a nice family discussion about your apparent adolescent inability to communicate in an understandable fashion.”

“Oh, gee Dad that sounds cropped full of the fun and giggles.” John narrowed his eyes menacingly at her, as she finished with a trying, “Can’t wait. Just…Can’t.” And a twinkle in her eye as she turned to leave.

“Catherine?”

Something in his voice stopped her mid-turn and had her looking at her father over her shoulder.

It was love.

Pure, unconditional love.

John said simply, “Whole wide world, Kid.”

And she knew exactly what he meant.

“Love you too, Daddy…Whole wide world.” Cat’s eyes glistened with tears she refused to let fall, for her father’s benefit. Blinking quickly, they darkened as she stepped expertly, unconsciously into shadows that lay in wait for her there at the threshold of The Studio’s door. Like awaiting arms, they engulfed her, only to release her from their dark grasp as she reappear instantly outside the door, without ever giving the appearance that she had opened it.

Because, quite simply, she hadn’t.

With a satisfied wave, Cat peeked at him through the blinds covering the front windows and with a huge smile she then took off for the Eastern most corner of the Studio that turned out onto Main Street, and she went at a fast trot.

Fast enough to put a good amount of distance between them, before she went running back, begging her Daddy not to go, in the way of small helpless, frightened children.

“He will be back before I know it,” Cat said aloud. “And he’ll be safe, and come home, bearing gifts and all before I even have time to miss him.”

It was a mantra she preached to herself, while heading up Main street, the road that would lead her directly to school, within walking distance away from her home.

“I’ll be back home before I know it. She’ll be fine.” John said aloud, unknowingly mimicking his daughter’s actions, to bolster his confidence. Watching her go, he repeated his own parental mantra if but to do nothing else than to reassure himself, into the heavy silence of the now empty Dojo. “The Fare is the very picture of small town, USA and no big, dark scary evils lurk here, other than the occasional specter or two. That’s why I picked it. It’s a place that even we could blend into easily enough without arousing suspicion with an odd action or two.”

A deep rumbling shook the windows, sending the panes of glass rattling in their moldings.

Looking out the window, John watched as the white puffs of clouds slid seamlessly through the sky, and behind them darker ones followed. Even from this distance, John could easily see that the storm clouds were about to be rolling in quickly, almost too quickly, covering the sun…

It was a storm that approached that he had seen darkening the horizon and not the fading of the night long past.

And from there, with the blotting out of the sun, he knew how easily the shadows grew, bleeding together into one dangerous mass of darkness.

He knew from experience, during his tenure of service to the Blavatsky Sparks and meeting and falling in love with Helena, Cat’s mother that so seldom did darkness hide what it shouldn’t, or protect what it should.

The things he had seen during that time, the things up until that time he would have sworn did not exist, he now knew did.

Fear.

The dark and evil things that his wife served her whole life to protect the world against…The same things she had pressed him and Catherine to flee upon Catherine’s birth, in hopes of protecting her daughter from a life of upheaval, battles and servitude that had been her own prison…

Existed.

As if the mere thought of big scary evils had called something closer, a storm brewed angrily on the horizon.

And it looked to be a bad one.