Gideon Blackthorn paused briefly in front of the television in the store window – but only briefly. He sniffed, wiped the sweat from his forehead and unfolded his newspaper, walking at a brisk pace once again.
As the millennium drew closer, humans were uncovering more about the Night World. Soon it would be completely exposed. And Gideon knew that Daybreakers were making themselves known too – they were probably the ones feeding the humans information.
Gideon sighed. Not that it mattered to him. He was part of neither world – and he didn't care. He was a man seemingly in his early thirties, when in fact he was a lamia and was around a hundred years old. An unbeautiful wedding ring encased one of his fingers – but he wore it out of habit.
He wasn't married any longer. His 'wife' had been… well, it was best not to think about it. She had used him as a bank – nothing more – and had slept around with as many men as she could during the time they were married.
She and Gideon had even had a son together. Gideon had been thrilled. His son had looked just like him… until Leila had said 'no'. She hadn't wanted a son – never had. She had had no intention of getting pregnant, and had said that 'if she'd have known, she would have had the baby aborted'.
This was back before she started sleeping around. As from then on, Gideon and Leila fell out. They were together for another year and then Gideon left. His only regret was leaving the baby boy alone. He wondered whether Leila had told their son that his daddy was dead. Or whether she just abandoned him.
Gideon's hands tightened on his newspaper briefly. His face turned sour and his lips became a tight line.
He shook his head to get rid of the cold tremor running up his spine.
Curiosity suddenly overran his mind and he took a U-turn. He went back to gaze at the TV, which was running a news broadcast on a loop.
He raised his wide hat, reflecting his dazzling green eyes and dark black hair in the windowpane.
But it wasn't just a reflection in the window. There was one on the TV screen too.
Gideon's heart skipped a beat.
The newsreader's voice was anxious and excited. "I… I can't believe it. This boy… Jane, are you getting this?"
"Sure am." Replied someone on the television. Her face was not seen. She was obviously in the studio, and this footage was being fed over the air.
"It's incredible. The building was collapsing and he just… he just ran in there and got the other child out. And whatever the girl did…"
The camera zoomed in on the couple standing on the roadside, panting heavily and holding a boy about eight between them.
"Jane, they deserve a medal. That little boy would've been crushed."
The camera zoomed in even more.
Gideon saw his reflection once more. But it wasn't his own. It was like looking into the past – at a younger version of him.
The boy and girl on the news were both in their late teens. The boy had a shock of long black hair that ran down to his chin. It almost hid his eyes. But Gideon saw that they were green.
The girl on the boy's right had cascading waves of red hair. She looked like an angel – an aura of blue/white surrounded her. And her eyes were almost the same colour. Blue/grey.
"This light came out of nowhere… it was like blue smoke or fire… it – it was almost electricity."
There. Gideon saw the blue shocks coursing through the rubble of what had been a building downtown.
"When the foundations crumbled the rescue team said it was hopeless – the building had already been doomed as it were. But… But…"
The tape ended. It went right back to the beginning, forever on a loop. Or would be played at least for the rest of the day.
Gideon blinked furiously. Then stepped back. He took a few steadying breaths, and then looked down at the paper in his hands. It was yesterdays. He wanted an update.
He tossed it in the nearest trashcan, and went to buy today's edition.
And there – just as he'd suspected – plastered across the front page, was the boy with mobster-looks and the girl surrounded in a halo of fire.
"These two could not be identified. It seems their records have been destroyed. For what purpose is uncertain, but a reward is going out for whoever spots them – so we can bring them in and award them personally."
Morgead swore and switched the television off. In his fury, he threw the remote at the screen. It clattered off, harmlessly.
He buried his head in his hands and fell back onto his bed.
Crap!
Jez opened the bathroom door. Her face was pale – almost the same colour as the towel wrapped around her body. Her fiery red hair slapped about her bare back as she made her way over to her soulmate.
"It's all over the news." She said, apologetically – but it wasn't her fault. She screwed up her face and sat down – not caring that she was wet. "You think we should give out false identities? Because, you know, they will get extremely peeved if we don't show ourselves."
Morgead sniffed at the idea. He raised his eyes over his arms and gazed at Jez.
"At least the kid's safe,"
Jez looked away. "Yes, but what if the Night World catches on? 'Ooh! A Wild Power! And Daybreak are letting her out unguarded!' You know what it means, don't you? It means we have to be placed under lock and key…"
"JEZ! MORGEAD!"
The two glanced up at the speaker in the corner of their room. Someone was screaming over intercom. They recognised the voice instinctively. Both stood up.
A couple of minutes later, Hannah Snow pounced into the room. She looked a mess – almost as if she had been asleep up until now and had woken up ahead of schedule.
Her face was chalky white, her blonde hair was a shambles and she was panting with the effort of running up dozens of corridors and stairs just to get to this one room. But her grey eyes were steely and Jez and Morgead could not look away.
"You snuck out, didn't you?" she asked, testily. There seemed to be a lump in her throat, because she said every word slowly and thickly. Her tone seemed to be degrading Morgead because he lowered his eyes. A human couldn't often speak to him like that – but Hannah was furious.
Jez opened her mouth to say something, but she hadn't realised that it had been a rhetorical question. Hannah was speaking again.
"You idiots." She hissed. "Jez, how many more times? The last time was bad enough, but at least that was at night when you couldn't be seen. And now you make a bloody big fuss and get the media crawling over you and… and Goddess knows how many Night People watched the news today!"
Jez was in a state of shock. In all her months living at the Descouedres mansion, she had never heard Hannah swear. Ever. Morgead was trying hard not to snigger. Jez seemed uncomfortable. She looked away from Hannah's 'Old Soul' stare.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"You realise that Thierry's going to have to call in more security? And have you two watched twenty-four-seven? I can't believe that you would do such a thing, Jez…"
"I'm sorry," Jez said again. Hannah was getting less angry, but more anxious. She was wringing her hands at her sides.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," she spoke slowly. "I'm sorry you two, but… well we have to do something to make sure you won't go out again, so…"
Hannah regretfully turned to Morgead. "We're sending you on a mission, Morgead. Thierry thought it would be best to send you because you're good at stealth… and, well, it gets you away from Jez."
"What!" Jez and Morgead started simultaneously. "Hannah, you can't do that!"
Hannah blinked a few times. Then she sighed. "Yes, I can. I know it'll be hard on you two but…"
"Stop it!" Morgead growled. "Stop it, right there! You may be an Old Soul. You may have a really powerful soulmate, but that doesn't amount to diddlysquat in my books! If you haven't noticed, I am eighteen – a whole year older than you. You can order me around as much as you want, so long as you're under Thierry's orders, but don't go putting me down because you think you're better!"
"Morgead…?" Hannah started.
Morgead was rushing on.
"And don't pull that 'hard on you two' crap. You know it'll be hard on us. I'm not going on any dumb mission, and you know that. You wouldn't trust Thierry out there alone – so why should Jez expect it of me?"
Jez shook her head and sat down, sighing. Morgead was in one of his Excited States.
"Listen, Han, I promise I won't go out." She spoke softly. "You can even lock us in this room and drill us in a cat flap so you can feed us our food that way. We have everything. Bed, en-suite, TV… what more could we want?"
Hannah was worrying her bottom lip. She always did when she was anxious. She looked confused and undecided. "But Thierry thinks…"
Morgead was deflating. His tone was much more calmer now. "Change Thierry's way of thinking then – you're his soulmate, what else are you good for? Tell him I'm not going on this mission, and that's final."
Catching hold of a glare Jez was sending him, he turned to her. "And I'm not being childish!" he cried.
Hannah stood there for a few more moments, then shook her head. She turned back out of the door, shut it behind her and left. Morgead fell back with a sigh.
Jez stared at him wordlessly.
Morgead, lying on his back and gazing up at the ceiling, blew upwards so his fringe was out of his eyes. It didn't work, so Jez moved it for him.
"Why did you have to go and get wound up like that?" she asked. "I bet Hannah's really upset now…"
"Yeah, but that's how she is," Morgead snapped back. "She does degrade you."
"I know, but it isn't right just to–" she stopped, then jerked backwards with a sigh.
She landed with a soft bump next to Morgead, and leant over to kiss him on the cheek.
There was a thrum, a soft haze of pink light, and a spark as soon as her lips made contact. Then, as she pulled away, it fizzled into nothingness.
Morgead smiled faintly.
"I needed that," he said dreamily, shutting his eyes.
Jez snorted and tucked her towel tighter around her. "How 'bout one on the lips then?"
Morgead opened his left eye slightly. He grinned. "Ooh, you're daring," he mocked, sarcastically.
Jez laughed and then leant in.
Just before they kissed, there was the turn of a key in a lock. The two looked up, surprised.
Jez hadn't honestly thought that Hannah would take her advice…