Disclaimer: I own the OC's; the rest belong to their respected owners.
A/N: Here's the explanation for Trish in my other Tomb Raider fic. And yes, it's the first in my series. Also- I am aware of Kurtis' biography... I just chose not to go with it. I'm going with the bio I made for him years ago, when I was still in the starting stages of writing fan fiction. This was pretty tough for me to write since I now know what was supposed to be... Try detaching yourself from what you already know, then you'll understand, but I really wanted to keep my old bio for him.
Prologue
June 7th... 14 Years Ago... Texarkana, Texas, The Saes Residence.
"NATASHA!" Benjamin Saes roared from the front door of the house as their children watched in fear from the living room, huddled together in a scared group.
Natasha Saes stormed down the stairs and over to her husband. "What?" She snapped, in her arms their youngest daughter, Rebecca.
"I told you, get the kids packed up and let's go!" He shouted, pointing at the trembling children in the living room. The children cringed back as Benjamin winced, lowering his arm. It shouldn't have to be like this. He was just trying to protect them.
Benjamin was a hunter of all things supernatural.
"No." Natasha said, setting her jaw.
Benjamin recoiled like he had been slapped. "What? You don't believe me when I say we're in danger? You turning your back on me? Huh?"
"We're not Carnies, Ben!" She said, raising her voice just enough to get her point across while Rebecca slept on. Lucky baby... "You're the only hunter in this family- That is your life, this is ours. We like it here, and we're staying."
"I've moved all my life and I've turned out just fine!" Ben snapped at her.
"Oh, sure." Natasha said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Jumping at shadows, sleeping in shifts, trusting no one- That's normal."
"I don't see what you're problem is with this life. Is it too unglamorous for you?" Ben asked, exasperated.
"No!" Natasha hissed, glaring at him. "Dominic, Nikolas, take your siblings next-door. Your father and I need to talk." She said, not breaking eye-contact with her husband.
The two oldest boys, twins, looked at each other before leaving the safety of the living room. Dominic grabbed Rebecca from his mother as Nikolas held Charity's hand, helping the whimpering toddler walk to the door.
"Dada..." She said, reaching out for her father, her lower lip trembling as her big blue eyes filled with tears.
Benjamin ignored his daughter as Nikolas picked her up, following his older twin brother out the door.
Melanie, Patricia, and her twin brother Cole followed them, the twin five year olds and the seven-and-a-half year old trying not to cry as they followed their brother's down the driveway and down the street.
Behind them, they heard their parents yelling.
Dominic stopped the line of children and turned around, looking at his siblings. "I'll never leave you guys." He announced, the ten year old standing tall and tough as Rebecca slept in his arms.
Cole wrapped his arms around Patricia's neck and hugged her close. "Me neither." He said as he shut his eyes, trying not to cry.
Patricia held her brother and nodded. "Me too." She whispered.
"And we're all going to get out of this life. No more hunting in this family." Dominic said, stomping his foot. Rebecca's eyes flew open, but she relaxed as she realized it was... Something. She stuck her thumb in her mouth as she fell back asleep, Dominic looking over his siblings. "From now on we're our own family- No Dad, no hunting. Right?"
"Dada..." Charity said, clinging to Nikolas.
Melanie nodded from the back of the line, the oldest girl in the family. "Uh-huh. We're done."
Dominic nodded and turned, leading them down the neighbor's driveway.
Patricia and Cole looped arms, trying hard not to cry, as they followed. Their little world was falling apart...
If only the promises they had made could be kept.
Dallas... Texas...
Meanwhile, somewhere in Dallas, two men in black suits with sunglasses and briefcases left a building. In one briefcase, documents. In the other, a book.
A man in an orange t-shirt followed them, blending in with the people around him.
The two men entered a building, one of them glancing his way. He ducked his head and kept walking until he reached the end of the block, then he went back.
The man glanced at the building's sign. Speedy The Woodchuck's Parcel Service stared back at him in orange lettering that matched his shirt.
He swore before running into the building and up to the front desk. "Two men just walked in here with briefcases. I need to see the briefcases- Now!"
The blonde behind her counter snapped her gum, looking at him in boredom. "No can do sir," he winced at her shrill voice, "unless you are a member of law enforcement-"
He jerked a badge out and slammed it onto the counter.
Raising an eyebrow she turned the badge around with one long, skinny finger before looking up at him. "You're a cop, huh? This way." She turned and led him to the back as he stuffed the badge into his pocket.
She looked over a shelf before turning towards a short man with a greasy ponytail. "Hey, Donny, where's those two briefcases we just got?"
He frowned before pointing towards the loading dock. "They were just shipped out- Urgent mail."
She turned to apologize to the man in the orange only to find him gone.
The man ran up the street, chasing the mail truck with gusto, as the mailman eyed his slowly gaining figure in the rearview mirror. "Big Bubba to Rug Man, Big Bubba to Rug Man, I have a tail." He said, speaking into a walkie-talkie, as he drove.
"Rug Man to Big Bubba: What's the vehicles description?" Rug Man asked.
"Not a car Rug Man, a dude. He's chasing me." He stopped at a red light. "Oh shoot. I'm at a red. He's gaining! What do I do?"
Suddenly a large black van with Vinnie's Rug's in yellow letters on the side sped around the corner. "Get out of here! I'll take care of him!" The driver of the van parked across both lanes of traffic, blocking the man as the light turned green and the mail truck roared out of there as fast as it could.
"Whooh. Thank you Rug Man, Big Bubba out." Big Bubba put his walkie-talkie back. Nothing would stop him from delivering the mail. And he was quite happy about that.
The man in orange, however, ran around the van, which drove away quickly, and began cursing everything he could think of when he saw that the truck was gone.
Noting a mother holding her baby and glaring at him, he marched down the street to the local park, reaching a pay-phone. He dropped some money in, then made a call. "Sir? I lost the package." He winced at the response. "Yes Sir. Yes Sir. I'm sorry. Goodbye, Sir." He hung up and sighed. "Saes better not get his hands on it." He said, running a hand through his hair nervously.
Idaho...
Kurtis Trent, young man that he was, cursed his rotten luck before shoving some candy into his mouth. The sweet candy kept him quiet as he reread his father's orders. Somewhere behind him, his older brother Damien and his younger brother Mark roughhoused, somehow comforting Kurtis.
Boys, it read, I am expecting a package in the next day or so. Tell Mrs. Kanada, the woman next-door who knew most of their secrets- And the boys knew that she had plenty of her own-, to sign for it. Don't open it. I also want you all to do six hours of training each day, along with your studies, and keep the house clean. If I discover you have not followed my orders I am revoking your TV rights for a month.
Six hours? He had to be joking! They already spent seven hours on their studies, and Kurtis slept for about six hours (he needed little sleep), it took usually two hours to finish any report his father wanted, so adding these extra six hours in meant… He had three hours left to do whatever he wanted? This had to be a bad joke. Had to.
"Why does he have to be so obsessed with us being perfect?" Kurtis groaned around the candy in his mouth. He swallowed. "Someday I'm leaving and never coming back." He grumbled.
Damien appeared behind him and snatched the letter out of his younger brother's hands. "Let's see... Eh, dear old dad is starting to fall off his rocker," Damien said, crumpling the letter in his hand before tossing it over his shoulder. Without having to look, it landed in the garbage can on the other side of the room.
Let's not forget: They were, after all, not normal.
Kurtis stared at his older brother in horror. At 13 years old, he was way old enough to be making his own decisions, and his 17-and-a-half year old brother didn't have to boss him around, yet Damien stepped in a lot when it came to their freedom. Living with two hunting-obsessed parents really damaged your personality over time.
That didn't mean he wasn't afraid of his parents, specifically his father's, wrath though.
"Damien, I kinda want to keep my TV rights." Kurtis said, his blue eyes wide.
"Me too." 9-year old Mark said as their beagle, Hawthorne, padded into the room. "And so does Thorne!" Mark added, pointing at the dog.
"Rurr?" The dog whined, looking up at Mark in confusion and then lowering his head like he was in trouble.
"N- No!" Mark groaned, face-palming.
The dog perked up and wagged its tail, happy again.
"Pssh- Like the old man will do anything? As long as we make it look like we did everything he said, we're good to go." Damien explained to his younger brothers. "You see? Piece-of-cake." He said, walking over to the couch and throwing himself over the back of it. Landing, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just do the work then?" Mark asked the obvious question.
There was a pause. "Eh. No." Damien said with a shrug.
Kurtis shook his head.
Soft knocking sounded at the door as a woman croaked- I mean- Spoke up. "Oh boys! It's me, Mrs. Kanada. Your father's shoes arrived and I don't want them sitting at my house." She sounded like a female frog talking.
"Yeah yeah, keep your hat on, you old bat." Kurtis grumbled, heading to answer the door of the large ranch-style house.
Damien raised his eyebrow. Shoes? What shoes?
Kurtis opened the door and the towering Asian woman handed him the package. "Keep this door locked," she mumbled, her voice as smooth as silk. "Great seeing you boys!" She said, louder, in her fake frog-voice again. "When your parents come home for dinner, tell them I said "hi"." She said with false cheerfulness.
Kurtis nodded and she left as he locked the door.
Damien was across the room in seconds, taking the package from his younger brother.
That's what happens when you're in a family full of super-humans.
"Shoes huh? Let's see what Dad really has." Damien said, ripping the tape off and opening the box as Kurtis cringed and Mark reached for it.
"No, Damien! Dad'll be mad!" He said, trying to pry the box away.
"Dude, chill. It's just a book." Damien said, lifting the book up.
"Please, Damien!" Mark begged, grabbing his brother's arm.
"Hey," Damien said, giving him a piercing look. "It's fine. I'll take the blame for all of this."
Mark sighed. He knew his father was going to be angry when he got back.
"If you're that worried, then we'll just put it in another box and make it look like we haven't touched it." Damien said, studying the book's exterior.
"I vote we do that." Kurtis said.
"I second it." Mark added.
"Woof!" Hawthorne tossed in.
"Okay then." Damien said, opening the book. "Whoa..."
The other two crowded around to see what was so cool and stared in awe as well.
"Il Sais del cristallo rotto? What's that?" Mark asked them, staring at the picture.
"Dunno. But it sure is cool." Damien said in classic teenage male fashion.
They didn't know that they would have to wait 14 years to get their answer.
Good? Bad? Huh? And? And? Gah! It's pointless- Oh, yeah, heh. I forget that I'm not talking to you. Well you'll just have to keep reading. And hey, if you want, review.
And I know that some people may not like some aspects of Kurtis here- Like how he has two brothers- But it is fan fiction... Just think of it this way: Instead of one attractive Trent, you've got three! ^_^
And by the way (too many "ands"- GAH!) Mrs. Kanada's last name is not pronounced Canada. It's KAH-na-DAH.
ExtremeRainbowRaiderPrincess.