"Rose! Rose! Rose Anne Linnet!"
A shrill voice reached its peak as it screamed out the name of one redheaded, fourteen year old girl who was currently still asleep despite it being almost noon. Rose grumbled when she heard the voice, rolling over in her bed to see the alarm clock that was on her bedside table.
"Rose! I swear! We are going to be late! Get down here!"
Rose glanced at the clock and her eyes widened. She really was going to be late. In a flurry of movement, Rose was on her feet pulling jeans and a sweatshirt on as she hurriedly pulled a brush through her unruly mess of red curls. After shoving on a pair of beat up, blue and white Chuck Taylor's, Rose stumbled down the stairs and into the family room where her step-mother stood waiting, her hands on her size two hips.
"And what exactly took you so long?" Chantal Linnet, demanded.
Rose shrugged her shoulder. "Internal bleeding. I was saving the world from aliens. I was having a really good dream in which I was sound asleep."
Chantal glared. "Well, come on. We are going to be incredibly late. You would think you would have more respect. Besides, we are doing this for your father." She said, storming out the door.
"More like you are going to walk around playing victim to the family." Rose grumbled, following her step-mother out.
Once in the car, Rose began to think. It hadn't been less than two months ago when her father's body was found floating in the Chateauguay River. A couple of trout fishers had the misfortune of coming across the dead man's lifeless corpse.
There were no wounds, nothing in the autopsy that provoked any type of concern. Apparent suicide by drowning. Expect, it didn't add up. Jonathan Linnet was one of the most happy, pleasant, and youth filled people you could hope to meet. So, why would he commit suicide?
Rose refused that her father had committed suicide. Absolutely refused to. She knew her father better than anyone. She knew that he would never ever kill himself. So, the logical reasoning left was simple. Someone else had killed him. Or it had been accident. But, there was no possible or rational reason as to why her father had committed suicide.
The car stopped in front of a reception hall. Chantal got out and walked around to the other side of the car before pulling the passenger door open. She glared at Rose.
"You will behave. You won't ramble off your delusions about your father being murdered. You will sit still and only speak when spoken too. Do you understand me?" Chantal growled out.
Rose rolled her eyes and got out, pushing pass Chantal. "You know he didn't kill himself." She said, simply.
"Stop it! Johnathan obviously had underlying problems he didn't share with us." Chantal snapped.
The redhead ignored her and walked to the door, pushing it open. The reception hall was decked out in black and silver decorations, with a bunch of people dressed in black and sobbing. Chantal had thought it smart to throw together a 'remembrance get together'. Which in common terms meant a bunch of family and family friends were going to sit around and sob and talk about how much they missed Johnathan Linnet. At least there would be food.
Rose grabbed a plate and began stacking it high with little cucumber sandwiches as she avoided eye contact with everyone in a five foot radius of her. Chantal was already sobbing as she choked out how much she missed and loved Johnathan.
Who knew, maybe the woman was being sincere. Maybe she was faking it. Maybe, just maybe, Chantal felt horrible about the whole thing and was honestly overcome with grief. Yeah. Probably not. It wasn't that Chantal was a bad person, she wasn't, and the thing was, she hadn't cared about Johnathan. Where there was money, Chantal was close behind. The woman was worse than a gold hoarding dragon in fairytales.
Rose found a corner and sat, eating her sandwiches as she studied the crowd. She recognized various aunts, uncles, and cousins as well as coworkers and friends. But, there were was someone she didn't recognize at all. A man wearing a bright red tie that stood out against his white dress shirt which was untucked. He had dark jeans on, a black sports coat and beat up sneakers. A black fedora was perched on his head. Long blond hair fell around his shoulders. A long, nasty scar ran his forehead, across his left eye and down to his chin, stopping at the top of his throat.
He was looking directly at her.
Feeling uncomfortable, Rose got to her feet and headed out into the hall. She walked down the hall searching for the bathroom so she could hide out when someone grabbed her by the arm. She was shoved into a nearby storage closet, the door shutting and she being shoved into the wall. A leather gloved hand covering her mouth and nose.
She panicked, thrashing against her attacker. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon was burning into her nostrils. The light was dim and she couldn't see her attacker, but, she soon heard a voice. One that was male and sounded highly annoyed. Like attacking a girl and shoving her into a storage closet was a terrible inconvenience to his day. He was also most definitely Irish.
"Trust me when I say this, I don't want to hurt you. But, if you scream, it will alert everyone to our current location and that would be incredibly terrible for both of us. So, I promise to remove my hand if you promise not to scream. Nod if you agree to these terms."
Rose hesitantly nodded. Only because she was starting to feel lightheaded and the difficulty of breathing was beginning to get to her. The man removed his hand and she coughed, gulping up the musty air. It was better than nothing. There was movement in front of her and suddenly a light appeared.
Her attacker was a man in about his thirties. He was pale, like he had never stepped foot outside. His raven black hair was slicked back with so much gel it glistened, and his eyes were dark. Almost like there was no color in the iris. He was wearing all black and he looked very, very annoyed.
The other disturbing thing was the small ball of flame that was floating above his upturned palm. Rose let out a squeak as she stared at it.
"W-What….H-How is that p-possible?" She stuttered out.
"Don't stutter. It agitates my nerves." The man said.
Rose stared at the man, her mouth hanging open. She was at a loss for words. Speechless. Had she been knocked on the head and was having an extremely weird dream? Or was she imagining things? Had she been drugged?
"You're going to attract flies." The man stated.
Rose's jaw snapped close. She pinched herself hard and winced. "Ow…"
"This isn't a dream. Nor is it a parlor trick. Or a joke. All of this is quite real. That being said, you, Miss Linnet are in very, very real danger." The man said gravely.
"Well, duh, some strange man with fire floating in his hand has me locked in a closet! Why wouldn't I be in danger?" Rose snapped.
"I understand the circumstances are less then desirable but I couldn't very well make myself known. Someone here is hunting you. They want you dead." The man said, eyeing her with regard.
"What? Why would anyone want me dead? I haven't done anything to anyone!" Rose cried.
"Contrary to common belief, the world doesn't revolve around you. But, nonetheless, someone wants you dead. And, Miss Linnet, they have hired a very dangerous hitman to make sure that their wishes are granted."
Rose stared at the man. "Who are you? What are you? And, that! How can you do that?" She rambled, pointing at the fireball.
"My name is Leviathan Lourdes. I'm a mage. And, that is magic." The man replied, moving his hand slightly.
"Magic? That can't be possible. Magic isn't real…" Rose stated, her voice cracking.
"Miss Linnet, I don't have the time to explain. I do highly suggest you come with me. If not, you might meet a very untimely and messy demise. And, that, would ruin the plans of everyone involved in this mess." Leviathan said, his tone shifting from alarm to boredom.
"Look. I don't know what to think…I….need to go….I….you have fire." Rose said, backing away to the closet door.
Leviathan caught her wrist, the fire staying in the air. He pulled out a card from his pocket. "Think about it. Don't die. Contact me."
He held the card out to her.
She took it.