Genesis: The Saga Begins

by lambertkristi46

Seventeen year old Genesis was a liar, a schemer, and a blackmailer. She didn't give a damn about any of that. She would use whatever she needed to get her way. Now, she's been brought back from the dead to play her part in a war. Lucifer has made a wager with God and Genesis is the pawn. Heaven and hell are bringing their battle to earth. The only problem is Genesis was never good

Genesis

Kristi Lambert

Copyright 2015 by Kristi Lambert

Kindle Edition

This book is protected under copyright laws of the United States of America. Any other production or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited.

Thank you mom for believing in me. Thanks to the girls at Café Perks for putting up with me for hours. Thank you Victor for coming in my classroom that day and asking, "Ms. Lambert, are you gonna write that book." You were an answer to a prayer. My daughter who makes the sun set each day for me-this is for you.

ONE

The light coming from the ceiling flickered off and on hinting at the bulb's age. The body in the bed didn't stir. At first glance, the human eye might think it was seeing a corpse. A fly circled before landing on her fingertip. Its legs rubbed against the surface of her skin. A flinch-just her thumb. Then, air, as her lungs came to life. The first thing she registered was a low, drumming sound, and after a second she realized it was her pulse. She could hear it inside her head.

Her eyes hurt. She tried to blink which caused a stinging sensation. She squeezed her lids together to stop the pain causing a single tear to fall from the corner of her eye. There was a stench in the air. It made her gag because it smelled like medicine. She went to lift her arm and winced. With effort, she lifted her head from the pillow to see what was causing the pain. There was a needle lodged in her vein.

It dawned on her that she was in a hospital. Her vision was blurry, and she was alone. Her gaze scanned the room as the drumming sound increased. Her heart punched in her chest. Her mind was a blank-nothing. Not one image or name came to mind. Not even her own. She didn't notice the nurse enter the room.

"Well, glad to see you're with us again," she said.

"Where am I?" she pushed out through stiff lips.

"You're in Mercy Hospital. How are you feeling?"

"What happened to me?" the girl demanded.

"You were found lying in the middle of the road. You were unconscious," she paused before adding, "strange for someone so young."

The nurse raised her bed, and the girl saw a small, white board nailed to the wall. Mercy Hospital welcomes Genesis. We hope to make your stay as comfortable as possible.

The nurse followed her gaze. "Do you know who that is?" her voice was bright.

"No."

"That's you."

She felt vomit rise in her throat. She didn't know her own name.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

"My name is Patsy. If you need anything, Genesis, just let me know."

Genesis, my name is Genesis.

"Why can't I remember anything?" her voice rose with agitation.

The nurse pursed her lips. The girl could tell she was deciding whether or not to answer the question. Then, she pasted a smile on her face.

"Why don't I go get the doctor while you rest?" She put her hand behind the girl's head to plump the pillows, adjusted the thin, beige sheet, and patted the girl's knee beneath the scarce covering. With that the nurse left the room humming a tune. The lingering scent of her perfume which reeked of dead flowers hung in the air.

She must have dozed off. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that night blanketed the sky. There was a light sprinkle of snow falling while the stars seemed to wink at her through the window. Their cheerfulness annoyed her.

Just then, the nurse came breezing through the door. That sickly, sweet fragrance of her perfume made the girl's stomach churn even more. She wanted to scrub that awful smell from her skin .The nurse glanced over at her from the sink as a huge smile lit her round face.

Genesis didn't return the smile.

"Does anyone know where I am? Why isn't there anyone here? Have you told my parents?"

Patsy must have seen the confusion etched on her face because she narrowed her eyes.

"You don't remember anything do you- nothing at all?" Pasty seemed to hold her breath as she waited for the girl to answer. Her posture was rigid. The nurse had been nothing but kind to Genesis. Despite that, some instinct warned Genesis the kindness was fake. That made her nervous, so instead of answering the question, she turned her head back to the frosted window letting the darkness fold her in its comforting embrace.

TWO

"Gen… Genesis… wake up." Genesis was still groggy as she opened her eyes. A face was close to hers. She could feel the person's breath on her forehead. Genesis jerked back as far as the bed would allow. It was a girl. Genesis's reaction had no impact on her. Her eyes bored into Genesis's face. She didn't speak as she studied Genesis. She looked like she was of Asian descent, although her skin and hair were pale as snow. There was a luminous quality to her skin,

and she had two red roses in the stark whiteness of her hair. It was pulled up in a bun. Her eyes were a piercing, gray color. The skin around them was bruised.

She should have looked sick, but somehow she didn't. If anything, the girl appeared to be full of life. She was bursting with a vital energy. The stranger flung herself into the chair next to the bed. She crossed one leg over the other. She began to tap her foot on the floor.

Turning towards Genesis she said, "I've had enough. I am ready to get out of here. I cannot stand hospitals. The colors are supposed to be soothing, but instead they make me want to put a hole in something. And what is that they are making you wear? It's like a green tent."

She reached up behind her to knock her knuckles against the wall. "It looks like pastels threw up all over this." She knocked again on the wallpaper craning her neck so she could see Genesis. "Is this soothing to you?"

Genesis just stared. It was obvious the girl knew her, but Genesis had no idea who she was.

After a moment, she looked at Genesis then back up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Right, they said at the nurses' station you had a bump on the head or something so you can't remember some things. But, would you do me a favor by not ogling me with your mouth open. It's not flattering."

Genesis averted her eyes, but her tone was anything but mild. "It's not just some things. I don't remember anything at all-including you."

As soon the words left Genesis's mouth, a sharp sensation stabbed inside her head. She saw the beautiful Asian girl dressed in pure white. A smear of blood was across one cheek. Her face wore an expression of such sadness and resolve. Genesis had the feeling the girl was going to do something that caused her great sorrow, but she was going to do it anyway. Her hair was writhing about her head; no longer confined in a bun. It was weaving and twisting into long strands. She turned to shout something. Genesis couldn't hear or see who she was shouting to.

But when her head turned back, Genesis knew that whoever was on the receiving end of that stare was in great peril. Her hand rose, and just like that the image was gone. But one word formed in Genesis's head. Mae. Genesis knew without a doubt that the girl's name was Mae.

The girl had been quiet as she watched Genesis, but now a slow grin spread across her face.

"You remember me don't you?" She jumped up off the chair. "I knew you would, I just knew," she said as her face glowed. "I am very hard to forget," Mae revealed as she smoothed

the top of her hair, though no strands were out of place as far as Genesis could tell. "Fantastic, now we can get out of this place and go home." Mae pulled the sheet off Genesis.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," interjected a voice edged with steel.

Mae's head turned toward the opened door as Nurse Patsy stepped in, and stopped in front of Genesis's bed.

Though spoken in a polite way, Genesis could see the warning look in the nurse's small eyes. She placed her body in front of the bed trying to block Mae's view of Genesis.

Mae inclined her head. "Oh, now don't you worry about Genesis. She's my best friend. She'll be just fine. It's not like I'm going to make her scrub the baseboards or anything." While the reply may have come across as nothing more than sarcasm, Genesis had the distinct impression that there was nothing funny in the room right at that moment.

Mae and Patsy were strangers, yet there was an undercurrent passing between them. A silent message going on only they understood.

Pasty slanted her eyes a bit. "I don't think that's such a good idea, my dear. Now, you run along. It's getting late. Genesis isn't going anywhere tonight. "

In response to the woman's innocent words, Mae's hair began to stir as if a gentle breeze swept in the room. One white strand slipped loose of the bun. It appeared to elongate while it slithered across Mae's neck. Genesis blinked. Every hair was back in place.

Mae was dead serious. "Patsy, you're very lucky Genesis is here right now. You have no idea how lucky. Do not push me. "

Patsy's face turned an unflattering shade of red. Without another word, she turned on her heel heading for the door. But right before she left, she turned back to Genesis, giving her a single look which made the hair on Genesis's neck stand up. Hostility lived in that look. And then, just like that, it was gone. Mae's eyes lingered on the door before saying, "Let's go."

Genesis began to scurry off the bed. Not knowing what to do with the IV still in her arm, she gritted her teeth and tugged. She grimaced at the pain. She had no idea why she was listening to this girl. Genesis didn't know what else to do. She was feeling a little lightheaded as she asked Mae, "Do you know Patsy? It seemed to get a little personal there."

"Never met her before in my life." Mae's hand was on the handle of the hospital room door.

Genesis frowned. "Then how did you know her name?" But her question was met with silence as Mae walked out the door.

THREE

Genesis stepped out into the frigid night, shivering when the biting wind whipped her hair around her face lashing her cheek. She could see her breath in the air turning into little, white puffs. Genesis was anxious, though she supposed anxious wasn't exactly the right word to describe how she felt. She stood on the wet road not quite sure what to do. She had no idea where to go, and nothing looked familiar. Is this where I live? Do I live in this city, what is this city? The buildings were huge to Genesis. She didn't remember any buildings that appeared similarly to these she was now standing in front of. The cold was starting to get worse. Genesis was lost. She felt faint tears of desperation dampen her eyes. She started at the unsettling feeling. She put a hand to her eyes, and wiped an errant tear away. It was shiny on her finger. Genesis couldn't remember the feeling of tears. To her, tears were a blessing because that meant she could feel. Genesis had an intrinsic notion that she never cried. She heard movement beside her. Mae stood in the falling snow. There was an unreadable expression on her face.

Genesis decided to be blunt. "What is going on here? I'm in the hospital, and you're the only one that shows up? Have I been ill? And where is my family?" She grabbed Mae by the arm. "You said that we're friends. That means you must know about my life. Tell me, Mae.

What happened to me?" She could hear the weakness in her voice and hated it more than anything.

Mae scrunched her forehead up like she wasn't sure how to answer. At last, she blew out her breath and said, "It's like this Gen; you don't have any parents. Well, not any parents for a long time."

Her eyes shifted when she spoke. "All I know is that there was some sort of accident, and your parents were killed. I am very sorry to have to tell you this."

There was a giant fist wrapping around Genesis's heart. Her throat felt constricted. She stared at Mae, but she wasn't quite seeing her. Mae's words tried to take root in her head. She felt the hot sting of tears, but she would not let Mae see her cry again. She closed her eyes in an effort to come to terms with this information. No parents, no parents. They're dead.

Genesis opened her eyes to see Mae had moved closer to her. Tension emanated from Mae, and Genesis could sense that she was uneasy. Genesis knew that this girl wasn't being completely honest with her. Mae knew much more than she was telling.

The words burst from Genesis before she could stop them. "So that's it? I'm alone in the world. I have nothing and no one. Not even my memory. I don't even know how old I am."

"You're seventeen years old," Mae said.

"What's wrong with me?"

Mae tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"I passed out, and I have no memory. To me, that means there's something wrong."

"Is that what they told you, Gen? See, they told me you hit your head when you slipped. The streets have been slippery the last few days. Hospitals get it wrong all the time. That nurse didn't know what she was talking about." Mae dismissed Genesis's concern with a little wave of her hand.

Genesis took a step forward. "But, Mae…"

By now, Mae was losing patience. "Look, Gen, don't worry about it. Tell me, do you feel sick?"

"No, actually I don't."

Mae's smile was big. "See, what did I tell you?" She nudged Genesis with her elbow. "Just to be clear, you aren't alone in the world. You have us. We'll be there for you."

Genesis found that she couldn't return that grin. Her lips felt as if they would never smile again. She stood there on the damp road with snowflakes falling all around. She tried to make sense of what Mae said. Genesis had a sudden wish that she was still in that hospital unconscious. She wished the blanket of oblivion still covered her so she didn't have to face this; even if it were only for a little longer.

"Mae, wait a minute. You said that we'll be there for you. What do you mean? Who are we?"

Mae clapped her hands in delight. "Well, guess there's nothing wrong with that old brain of yours," she said as she tapped Genesis on the head. "Didn't know how long it would take you to pick up on that one. No offense Gen, but sometimes you can be a little slow. Thank goodness you have me around," Mae said as if it was a tremendous burden.

"Mae, do I or do I not have family out there somewhere?

"Well, of course you do."

Genesis felt a rush of joy surge through her. "My family; I knew it. I knew I had to have some family out there."

Mae put up her hand to cut her off. "No. The family."

Genesis didn't see the difference. Family meant family, but to Mae it must have meant something different.

"Who is the family? Just tell me because it's freezing out here. I want to go home." Genesis faltered before saying, "wherever home is."

Mae stepped closer linking her arm through Genesis's. "Don't worry, Gen. It will all come back to you soon. You'll see."

They began to walk down the road sidestepping scattered puddles teeming with flecks of fallen snow. Genesis was tired. She was bone weary. All she wanted to do was to curl up someplace warm, but she didn't want any dreams. She wanted darkness. She wanted a new day to dawn. It had to be better than this one.

As they were passing a building, Genesis caught sight of herself in the glass. She stopped and stared at her reflection. Long, black hair, and a short, slender shape. She noticed that she was just as pale as Mae, and her eyes were black. To her shock, Genesis saw a scar running down the side of her face. She turned to Mae who seemed to anticipate her question. "I'll explain that later."

"But I want to know now," she insisted.

"No. I said later. Quit being so difficult, Gen, and let's go."

Difficult. This girl had some nerve, but Genesis said nothing. She started to walk, and her feet ached after a while. She knew better than to complain. The silence was broken up with

the sound of an automobile or two hitting a puddle in the middle of the road. This caught Genesis's attention so much that she stumbled a few steps before coming to a stop. They were moving so fast, and their shapes were random. Genesis stiffened at this observation because she didn't remember automobiles looking anything like the ones that just passed by.

Mae noticed and tugged at Genesis's arm to keep her moving. After traveling a long time, it appeared they left the town, but her recollection was vague. The harder she tried to think about it, the harder it was for Genesis to remember how they had gotten this far. If she had to go back to the town, there was no way she could find her way back. Genesis didn't like that. She looked around, but she didn't see anything in the distance. She said to Mae, "I thought we were going home. I don't see anything around here."

"We are," Mae stressed. "The cemetery is right up there." She pointed a finger at something up the road, but it could not be seen in the dark.

Genesis tripped. "Did you just say cemetery? You did not just say a cemetery is where we live."

"Yes, I did .The family is waiting. They've waited a long time for you."

Just when Genesis thought she would drop from exhaustion, she saw the outline of a dark shape up ahead. The cemetery was coming into view. They turned down a long, narrow road adorned with a tall, worn fence that stretched down into the distance. Some tips of the fence had broken off. A passerby could tell in an instant that the thin, wooden boards had been weathered by many storms. Then, there it was, looming up in the night like a Spector. As they drew near, the full impact of the place had Genesis tensing as a rush of emotions overwhelmed her. Massive trees were scattered among the graves, and their great leaf and moss covered branches bowed low toward the ground as if they too were mourning the dead. A faint mist swirled through the over-grown grass covering the ancient looking stones. The gravestones themselves varied in size. Some were straight, and others crooked or slanted. The air felt strange- heavy. Genesis could feel it coating her skin. There were several, cracked roads that winded through the gravestones with a few lampposts casting a faint, golden hue to guide the way. She saw decayed bouquets of flowers in front of the gravestones. Nothing but the twisted stems were left as a reminder to the dead that they were missed. As Genesis walked, she passed a statue of a weeping angel. A shiver worked its way down her spine. She knew this place. She could feel it just like she felt the ground beneath her feet. Genesis didn't want to go any further. Self-preservation urged her to flee. To run as fast as she could away. She steeled her spine. One thing she did know about herself is that she was no coward.

Without warning, they came upon a rambling house enclosed by a black gate. Genesis was sure it was abandoned. It was gargantuan in size and shrouded in black. The windows were covered with a cloth. The structure was made of brick, and had large windows with irons across each one. The branches of the trees banged back and forth along its sides. The wind picked up speed, and an owl hooted in the distance. The air became caked with ice as a long, mournful howl vibrated in the air. The breeze was turning vicious, and Mae began to run.

"Gen, move it, you've got to hurry. Come. On. Now," she shouted over the wind.

Genesis started to run in earnest. She wasn't sure why. It was the urgency in Mae's voice that spurred her on. They raced up the broken steps then crashed through the front door. They fell to the floor in a heap, and lay there gasping for a few seconds.

"That was so close," Mae was gulping in air. "I really didn't think we were going to make it. You're such a slow poke, Gen." Mae reached down to help Genesis off the floor. Genesis stood up as Mae proceeded to smooth her hair and straighten her clothes. Her surroundings came into focus. It was exquisite in an old, world sort of way. Candles- candles were everywhere. There was no other light except for the candles. She stepped out of the entrance way into a huge sitting room. There was a staircase made of iron that led up to each of the four floors, with long, wood banisters that ran along each of the four hallways. The furniture was ancient, but Genesis got the impression that in its former days it was magnificent. It was dark, leather material that had an ample amount of creases, and rugs of clashing colors were strewn on the floor. Huge candelabras were in every corner of the room. A fireplace blazed in the center of the room, casting eerie shadows on the wall. That's when Genesis noticed the strangest thing. There were two large, crystal globes hanging in midair. Genesis squinted her eyes to see the strings that held them up. She couldn't see anything. Huh, nice trick, she thought. She inched closer to the crystal globes. She was compelled by some undeniable force. Against her will, she extended a fingertip to touch one.

Light illuminated the interior of the room. An image flashed across the glass exterior. Red. Rich, vibrant, red. It resembled a strand of hair. It was soon replaced by an image of fire. Sounds began to fill the air. Moaning sounds implying great despair. Flashes of faces blurred across the glass- then hair. The strands of red hair slipped in slow motion through fingertips, and brought up against a mouth to be kissed. An ache settled in Genesis's chest. A pressing weight followed that ache. Genesis recognized it after a minute or so. Satisfaction. She felt satisfaction.

Her mind acknowledged the feeling even if it could not remember why she would feel the emotion. While Genesis was preoccupied with this thought, the entire house began to quake.

FOUR

Genesis fell to the floor as the walls swelled inward. An unseen force was pressing on them from the outside. She could hear the whistling of the wind as the walls trembled around her. Then, the shrieking and pounding began. Genesis was certain the ceiling was going to cave in.

She searched for Mae. When she finally came into sight, Genesis saw that she was pressed against the wall.

"Don't worry," said a voice behind her. "It will settle down in a few minutes."

Genesis looked up from her position on the floor to see a tall young man standing over her. The first feeling that hit her was power. He had power, yet he possessed an aura of tranquility. A soothing quality that made Genesis unafraid of the sounds coming from outside. His appearance reminded her of Mae: the same extreme pale skin and whitish hair. It stood out in different directions- untamed. He had the same color eyes as Mae- the same darkness.

"Here, let me help you up," he said as he reached out a hand to assist her. As soon as Genesis took his hand, all the noise inside her went quiet. He comforted her. It wasn't attraction-it was something else. He made her feel protected when she didn't even know him.

"Thierry, she took that like a champ. She didn't even scream or cry. I told you she wouldn't." Mae didn't appear to be fazed at all by what just happened. She walked up to Genesis and said, "Gen, say hello to Thierry. But, don't expect much of a greeting from him or a smile. Thierry lacks the normal social graces."

"Be quiet, Mae."

"Oh, great, you're in good mood," Mae arched an eyebrow. "Before you take that superior attitude with me, shouldn't you be thanking me for getting Gen here safely? I practically had to drag her down the street."

"Am I the only one who just heard that?" Genesis interrupted them. "The house almost came apart," she stressed, "and you two are talking as if nothing happened. The house almost came apart. What was that?"

She turned around to look at the boy Mae called Thierry who was standing there watching her. His eyes were unfathomable. He spoke, but his voice was a thread of a sound. "I almost forgot what you looked like when you were like this," he said to her. His jaw was clenched tight.

"What do you mean when I was like this? Do I look different?"

Thierry's shoulders were rigid. His hands curled into fists.

"Yes," his tone was harsh. "Yes you did change, you", he broke off turning away from her as Mae stepped toward Genesis to finish what Thierry had been about to say.

"Don't Mae," he said.

Mae went over to Thierry.

She brought up a hand to touch his face. Genesis might not remember Mae right now, but she had a feeling that "gentle" was something Mae never was. She was hurting, and Genesis could see it.

"You can't, you know this, it cannot be told." Mae nodded in agreement with Thierry's comment.

Genesis looked from Mae to Thierry not understanding. "What cannot be told? Is it something about me? If it is, don't you think I have a right to know? Please, tell me, what is going on?"

Genesis saw the internal struggle play out across Thierry's face. He ran his hand through his hair in a rough gesture. "It's not that we don't want to tell you Genesis. Can't you just try to remember?"

"Remember what? My past-is that what you mean? I'm sorry to say this, but it's all a blank. Everything about this night is all out of place. The cemetery, whatever was trying to get in here a minute ago? Something almost took this place apart, and nobody seems upset about it. What could do that?" she emphasized those last words with force.

"You did that, Genesis," he said.

"What in the world," she almost couldn't get the words out, "are you talking about?

"The house recognized you."

Genesis couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Houses," she spat, "don't recognize people!"

"This one does," he assured her.

"I see, so this "house" recognized me, and almost tore in half. It sure didn't seem happy to see me," she mocked.

Thierry's response was not what she expected. "No, it isn't."

Her face lost its condescending smile. Goosebumps broke out all over her skin.

Thierry walked further into the living room as Genesis followed. He stopped in front of a beautiful portrait of a cross. A man was kneeling in front of it praying. The painting had to be an antique. It was encased in a stained, wood frame. Genesis could tell right away that this had been around for a long time. It was the only painting in the room. The rest of the walls were bare except for the peeling wallpaper. Genesis wondered why they chose this painting, and this one only to put on the wall. It wouldn't be her first choice.

Thierry turned to her. "Do you believe in forgiveness, Genesis?"

Startled by his urgency, and the direction of the conversation, Genesis could only stammer a reply. "Well, I…I guess I do. But, since I don't remember much about myself at the moment I'm not sure, but I guess it's possible. What made you ask me that?"

"Do you, Genesis? At what point do we cross a line where mercy cannot find us?"

Genesis didn't know what to say to him. She wasn't sure where this was coming from. It was such a peculiar thing to say. Everything about this place and these two people came off as peculiar. Something was different. She sensed it. However, since these were the only people who seemed to know her, what other choice did she have but to stay put? She risked a quick glance at Mae who stood immobile. She knew Thierry was waiting for an answer, she just wasn't sure what the correct answer was.

"I guess you cross a line when you don't care about forgiveness anymore."

He turned back to the painting. They stood like that for a few moments with no one moving.

"Well, this is a hoot," Mae sauntered more fully into the room. "And here I was, thinking I was going to be so bored this evening." She plopped down on one of the plush chairs. She threw her legs over one of the arms. "You know, Thierry, you're going get wrinkles if you don't stop frowning so much."

"Is everything a joke to you, Mae? There is nothing funny about this. You know that. You know what's at stake here."

"Would it kill you to try and be positive, Thierry? For once, could you just try?"

"Isn't there something you have to do Mae? Some trivial act that is important only to you." He turned away muttering to himself. "You are just like Silas; two of a kind. Always letting yourselves get in the way of what's important."

Mae sat up straight in the chair. Her eyes were mere slits in her face. Small strands of her hair broke loose from its confinement, weaving around her head, stretching and growing. It reminded Genesis of the hospital, and the unusual interlude between Mae and the nurse. "Now Thierry, I love you like a brother, but you don't want to make me angry." She tilted her head down just a bit and said, "You really do not want to make me angry." The air began to simmer.

A feeling entered the room mimicking a heartbeat. Thierry continued to stare at Mae. Genesis could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile hover over his lips.

"Do you know how I feel, Mae? Do you have any idea?" he asked.

The air cleared, and Mae's hair stopped its hypnotic weaving. Every strand was back in place. She propped her chin in her hand as she regarded him.

"You're heartbroken, Thierry, I know. You're no different than me."

Genesis knew they were talking about her.

What have I done that I can't remember? What put me in a hospital with no memory?

"You mentioned that I look different. Is there anything I may see to help jog my memory?" she asked.

Thierry didn't say a word. His silence was answer enough. Genesis began to have a terrible suspicion. These people knew a secret about her- an awful secret. She felt fear, yet she welcomed the emotion because it reminded her that she was alive. She longed to feel something instead of the yawning emptiness that held her in its unbreakable hold.

Thierry spoke up. "Are you hungry? I'm sure you must want something to eat. Sit down and Mae will bring it to you."

"Great, now I'm the maid too," Mae said as she went into the kitchen.

They could hear pots banging behind the door. Mae returned with a bowl of steaming pasta covered with a delicious smelling sauce and some baked bread.

Genesis made it to the table in less than a second. She was ravenous. She scooped the noodles with her hands in clumps, and shoved them into her mouth. Her eyes closed in total abandonment. Her taste buds sprang to life. She'd never tasted anything quite like it before.

She kept cramming mouthful, after mouthful, and still she couldn't get enough. She didn't stop until she finished every last bite. She grabbed a piece of bread. It was still warm. She ripped it in half and bit into it. The smell and taste of the food- everything about it enthralled her. She wanted to cry it was so good. She slumped back in her chair because her stomach hurt, and then a wave of heat went up her neck making her ears burn. She acted like an animal. She even growled at some point when she thought they were going to take her food. She expected them to be repulsed or shocked by her behavior. Instead, they sat gazing at her with a look of complete understanding. Mae pushed the bread closer to her with caution like she was afraid she would lose her hand in the process.

Genesis wiped her mouth with her hand. "I guess I was a little hungry. It feels like I haven't eaten in forever. It just all tastes so good." She licked her fingers.

Come to think of it, Genesis couldn't recall food tasting this good. Even though she was full, she craved more. She wanted to down the second loaf of bread, but she was afraid it would make her sick.

Thierry gestured upstairs. "Genesis, you must be tired. Your room is ready. We didn't change anything. It's exactly the same as when you left. We thought you would want it that way."

That caught Genesis's attention. "When I left. You mean when I went in the hospital right?"

Mae didn't meet her eyes. "Yes, that's right."

They walked down a dim hallway lined with dozens of gleaming candles. On the right hand side of the hall, Genesis noticed a bedroom. Pink-it was all over. Genesis went to push open the door for a closer look when Mae stopped her by putting her arm out as a barrier.

"Ah, I don't think so," Mae admonished as she snapped the door closed right in Genesis's face. "That," she tapped the door, "is my room. See that sign hanging on the doorknob?" The sign stated in bold, red letters, 'If you want to keep your foot don't put it in this room.' Mae looked at Genesis, "I mean it." Genesis found herself resisting the urge to laugh.

They ended up at a room near the end of the hallway. Mae told her, "This room is yours. The bed has been made up for you. I'll bring you some clean clothes in just a few minutes."

Mae turned to go then stopped. As if she couldn't help herself, she grabbed Genesis in a tight hug.

"I almost can't believe this is real," she said in a hushed tone. "I can't believe that you're here. You're standing here in this house, and I am talking to you. Talking. For so long it seemed that every time I saw you we were…" her voice trailed off. Mae blinked her eyes with a quickness that betrayed her emotions.

"I missed you Gen. I missed my friend."

With that, she left Genesis standing in the hallway lined with candles. Genesis tracked Mae's progress, feeling more alone with every step separating them. She didn't stop standing there until the whiteness of Mae's hair was swallowed up by the flickering flames. Only then did she turn to enter the room she was told belonged to her.

Genesis stepped into the room feeling instant disappointment. She was hoping her room would trigger a familiar memory. It didn't. This was a place she had lived in a forgotten life. She laughed to herself as she noticed that the décor of the room all seemed to be of a dark coloring. How fitting. Was there ever any light in her life at all? The floor was mahogany wood with slight scuffs embedded in the surface. The curtains looked like silk, and were the deepest shade of burgundy. A couple of black chairs were positioned around the room along with a black, wooden bookcase. A black, crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The walls were covered with what looked like metal, black vines with tiny flowers at the end. They crawled up the length of the wall creating a living, breathing tapestry. The comforter was also a deep burgundy with black pillows thrown across it. Her attention was drawn to the oil painting above the bed. It was in such contrast to the rest of the room. It was a picture of the scales of justice. On the bottom a phrase was written in bold ink: "You can't escape judgment. It always finds you." Genesis couldn't imagine herself picking such a strange fixture for her wall. She felt an ominous chill creep down the length of her spine. The image and the inscription upset her. She couldn't bear to look at it another minute. Rubbing her arms against a sudden chill, she turned to go. The glint of an object caught her eye. It was coming from behind the dresser shoved up next to her bed. She bent closer realizing it was a photograph and stooped to pick it up. She stood that way for some time then pivoted around to stride out of the room. She had one person on her mind. She spotted him coming up the top of the grand staircase. She marched right up to him shoving the frame in his face. She received no reaction at all.

"Explain this." Genesis shook the frame at him. "Why didn't you tell me about this? Is this what I have to find out on my own? Is this what you were talking about? That we were together? I don't like this-I don't like all this secrecy!"

"Listen to me," Thierry said. "We have never been together in that way, Genesis. That would be impossible. It would be impossible because you're my sister."

FIVE

Morning was just breaking as nurse Patsy scurried down the sidewalk. The silence was broken every few seconds by the clanging of delivery trucks cruising down the street. She kept her head down against the icy draft that stung her ears. Patsy had to move fast, so her breath kept coming in small spurts of soft, white frost. She was nervous. She kept glancing over her shoulder to see if one of them was following. Silent as the grave, she thought erupting in high pitched giggles. It sounded like a small child laughing, but no human child possessed such an unearthly laugh.

She rushed past a tall, leafless tree then paused. Her body blended into the tree, and then completely disappeared, masked by the innocent image the tree would provide. It was one of them- a Sentinel. She was sure of it. She tried to keep her giggle inside because she knew that when they passed her all they would see was a towering oak. Although Sentinels might sense or smell her presence, when she took on the shape of a person or object she was invisible to them.

All they could see was the shape she imitated. She could also blend into objects, but not for long. Even now, her body was beginning to burn from being immersed in the tree for these few moments. She began to feel a tingle of fear because she knew if they spotted her she was done for. After a few seconds, Patsy began to relax somewhat as she felt her body release the tense breath she had been holding when her spine jerked itself stiff as a bow string. She heard the small tsk, tsk, in her ear. Pike allowed the glamour of Nurse Patsy's form to shimmer off to reveal his true self. To look at Pike, a human would see a man in his early thirties. Just your average, every day, person. He looked like he did right before his death. This was the same for all Seekers who crossed. Pike wasn't attractive. He had beady eyes, and a sharp, pointed nose. His thin hair was pulled back and clasped at the nape of his neck. His narrow shoulders were slightly hunched.

"I must say the tree disguise looks much better on you than that pitiful nurse's form; however, both disguises look better than your true self, Pike." The derision continued. "Honestly, all that scurrying around to do her bidding is taking a toll on you. All that shape shifting is making your skin look a little sallow…well now, come to think of it that isn't much of a change is it?"

Pike regained his regular form. He was aggravated by the figure leaning against the lamp post. The young man stood with his arms and legs crossed over one another in a bored fashion. His appearance was that of a young man in his late teens; a youth that was deceptive. Silas was anything but young, and he was anything but bored. Silas always had something going on behind those keen eyes. His mind was razor sharp, always thinking, always plotting. He was wearing his usual plain, white shirt. Silas hadn't changed at all since the day he died. He was tall, well formed, with the same look that was common of his kind: the strange gray eyes that seemed colorless, the white skin and course, white hair. Pike was on alert as he eyed him. He knew Silas was up to no good, so, Pike waited. Silas would tell him when he was ready.

"Something you want to ask?" Silas's demeanor was friendly, but it didn't fool Pike. "Did you find her? Did you find Genesis?" All traces of friendliness gone from his voice. "Does she remember anything at all?"

Pike began to sweat. "Not from what I can tell, but the Sentinels have her. Before I could really pump her for info that annoying, smart mouthed one showed up."

"Ah, the ever enchanting Mae I assume. Well, I knew that was going to happen. Genesis was her best friend before their terrible falling out," Silas delivered as he shook his head with sadness. However, Pike knew that it amused him. "Such a shame to see good friends become ferocious enemies. Not that Genesis remembers does she?" The statement came as a question, but Silas knew the answer. "Mae, of course, will struggle with herself whether or not to tell her all the juicy details. But the long, suffering Thierry will refuse to let her. He is such a stickler for the rules. In order for the "plan" to work she has to remember everything on her own. That will buy me some time." Silas continued to talk but his voice became quiet.

"Majesty is going to be livid with you. You do realize that, Silas. You lied to her. Her fury will have no bounds. When she finds out what you've done, she'll want blood. You lied," Pike repeated, "to her!"

"Yes, I know. It's hard to believe isn't it? To tell you the truth I didn't think it was going to be that easy. To think that I outsmarted the likes of her, well, it does make one proud." Silas all but patted himself on the back. "And, yes, I know she will be furious with me, but it had to be done. When my plan comes to fruition, she won't be able to thank me

enough. She won't be angry anymore. Besides, Majesty is out of the way for the moment; out of commission so to speak. We will deal with her later, when the time is right."

Pike nodded in agreement.

"Right now, there are only two players we have to worry about: Mistress and the unsuspecting Genesis. Genesis will help me settle the score. She doesn't know that yet, but she

will. Those self-righteous Sentinels with the code they live by," Silas's face was a mask of repulsion. "Never break the rules, put others first, totally forget our own needs and what we want." His voice dropped as he looked up towards the sky. "If I'd known it would be like this, I would have made a different choice."

He never thought all those years ago that it would come to this. When he stood at that great precipice, that moment in time when he had to make a decision. A very important decision. His actions when he was alive brought him to that fateful day- the day of his death. At that precise moment, he had been offered a choice. He was given the chance to return to the living world as a form of redemption. But, he was not what one would call alive.

Silas was a Sentinel- not an angel. They weren't even close to being angels. His kind were given a chance to undo their actions from when they were alive by assisting those in need. In short, to be the good guys. Silas's lip curled up as his gaze remained on the sky. He was never the good guy. The Sentinels were always wary around him and with good reason. None of them trusted Silas very much. He was more of an outcast which was fine with him. The less those do-gooding Sentinels were around him the better. Silas threw a challenging look up at the sky as

ominous clouds began to blot out the sun. The wind began to crack with such power that a loud shrieking sound roared in Pike's ears. The wind knocked him clean off his feet. He grabbed the thick trunk of the nearest tree so he could hang on for dear life. He blocked his eyes as he tried to keep out the little bits of dirt and dust flying around so he could see Silas. Silas didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the heavens above. As the wind picked up more speed, and the sky grew black, Silas's smile was filled with gratification.

At once, the sky opened releasing a river of water down on the earth. Lightening split open the clouds to let tiny, slivers of light pierce through. Pike cowered in fear as his knees hit the pavement. He crawled to take shelter against the side of a large, brick building. His mouth opened on a silent scream as he covered his ears to block out the sound of thunder crashing all around him. The current was so strong he felt his feet lift off the ground. Pieces of bark pelted him in the face, and he had to duck several times to miss being smashed by large, tree branches.

"Enough," he shouted at Silas. Of course, Silas ignored him. He was no longer smiling, but staring at the chaos erupting around him. Lightning struck him, yet he didn't budge an inch. It couldn't do any damage to him, but it did hurt. The rain was pelting Silas's skin, leaving red welts in trails along his arms. Still he stood.

Pike began to giggle. The sound was quiet at first, and then grew louder when he realized what was going on. The cars driving down the road, the handful of people walking down the sidewalk in the early morning hours, were all oblivious to what was happening. None of this was affecting them at all. All they saw were sunny skies and calm breezes.

The human beings around them were totally unaware of what was going on, or how close they were to mortal danger.

Pike staggered to his feet clawing his way down the side of the building until he was a good distance away from Silas. His fingers were bleeding from holding on to broken window frames, rails, jagged nooks and crannies. Anything to keep from being hurtled back into the storm. The further away he got, the more things around him settled down.

Suddenly, Pike began grabbing around his neck, his movements frantic. When his raw fingers closed around the tiny vial that hung on a silver chain, he felt his body sag with relief. He almost forgot about that vial. It was shaped like a clinging vine. His body shook as he thought of what would have happened if it had broken, knowing the answer was death. He looked inside the vial at the precious, black liquid that was now almost gone. Because of his encounter with Silas and the storm, he forgot that his time on this side was limited. He needed to cross back over before the container emptied.

When the liquid ran out, he would die. Pike was a Seeker, and this was the only thing that allowed Pike's kind to cross over to the side of the living. Mistress was going to want answers, Pike thought. Pike found his way to a dank alleyway. He took the vine, shaped bottle, and crushed it in his hand. Even though it looked like glass, it dissolved into black powder. Pike's form began to fade; the color of his hair and skin turning to soot. His eye sockets blackened out. He became a gray, translucent shape; with form, but without form. Wind shot through his being, and then faded into nothingness. The black powder on the ground was the only sign that anyone had been there. After a moment, worms began to crawl out of the black powder, one after the other, until it too was gone.

SIX

Pike knew he was getting close. The closer he got to her, the speed at which human emotions began to fade increased. It felt like shedding layers of skin; painful at first. That was the first feeling to go…pain. But it was not one Pike missed. Going back home was always painful, but it wouldn't last. The next feelings were regret, sadness, loneliness, wistfulness, hunger. The base emotions that the living felt which reminded them that they were alive. Even if those emotions were uncomfortable or unwanted, it meant feeling. Sadness, loneliness and regret might be hurtful, but the lingering remnants of love were still able to be felt. The emotions contained no viciousness, and that was the difference. The next emotions to go were the ones Pike missed the most. Joy, happiness, gratefulness, forgiveness, acceptance, loyalty, fullness. It was more difficult to let go of these feelings, which was why they always faded slower. Pike was still hurtling down through noxious gas. Then, the only "feelings" his kind experienced came rushing back with stinging abruptness. The main feeling was hollow- nothing moved him. It was a vacant feeling. He could have been gazing at the most magnificent sunset, a glorious rainbow streaking across the sky, snowcapped mountains, a mother holding her newborn, and he might as well have been looking at a blank wall. However, there were other emotions that tinged the vacant feeling. Malice and a terrible yearning. These feelings did not come from hearts that could love, but from those that had no heart.

This place, his home, was known as The Idyll. Food could be remembered, but not how it tasted. Laughter could be remembered but not felt. Friendship could be remembered, but there was no loyalty here. Love and sympathy were nonexistent in The Idyll. All the wonderful, miserable feelings of being alive could be remembered, but only for brief moments. Pike felt the numbness begin to set in. Along with it, the familiar, malevolent feelings. They grew in strength until they consumed him.

The rushing sensation stopped as Pike hit the ground. The first thing that came into his view was the withered branch of a tree. One rotted leaf fell; floating in the still air, then was whisked out of his sight. Long branches caught at Pike's cheek as he rose to his feet. He didn't feel it.

In an instant, rain poured down on Pike's head. Here in The Idyll, the weather changed minute by minute: either extreme wind, rain, or snow. Pike had no solid form. No one here did, so he didn't feel either. What Pike did feel was towards the wind. It whispered to them, taunted them with things long gone. Those dwelling in The Idyll had short bursts of memory, slight visions of their previous lives. The visions didn't last long enough for them to be pieced together.

Through the rain came a gust of wind that materialized into a face. Then came the taunting voice.

"Hurry up Pike, you know she is waiting for you. You are always at her beck and call, but she cares nothing for you. You know that don't you?" the whisper continued. "Just like you care nothing for her."

Silas's voiced carried on the wind. "Do you remember her Pike? Do you remember Yuri? Here, I'll help you. Same old story. Guy wants girl; guy gets girl. Then guy no longer wants the girl. Can you see her face," the voice trailed off.

Yuri. Pike struggled to think of who that was. But-nothing. And he didn't care. The voice was right about one thing. Mistress was waiting.

SEVEN

Genesis burrowed into the soft comforter on her bed. It felt so good to lie down and just relax. Her mind was still in turmoil about Thierry. He was her brother. The only family she had apparently. She couldn't understand his reluctance to clear things up for her. It seemed he wanted to keep her in the dark about her life. She pictured him in her mind. Genesis didn't think she resembled him at all. Why wasn't he at the hospital? Why didn't he show up when I was hurt? Life was off kilter to her. The buildings she passed to get here were so large. The roads and the automobiles. They moved with such speed, and neither of the ones she saw looked alike. She tried, but couldn't quite see herself in one.

Despite the stress of the day, Genesis felt her eyelids begin to drift shut. The pitter patter of the rain against the windows was soothing. Her eyes were getting heavy. She was having trouble making out the patterns creeping up along the burgundy walls. In the candle light, they looked like snakes.

She was puzzled about this place. When she confronted Thierry with the photograph, she never had a clue they were related. She was in shock from the information. It wasn't just because of them being brother and sister. There was more to it than that. Relief. She felt such relief. To know that she wasn't alone in the world. That someone knew all the answers to all the questions she had. Then, another feeling followed. Only this feeling smarted. A feeling so alive she could almost reach out and caress the beloved letters of its name. Hope. When she first woke up in the hospital, all she wanted was answers. Now, she had the person who had them. All Genesis wanted to do was bask in the wonderful emotion filling her. Hope. A phrase popped into Genesis's mind. Hope is the last one to die. She'd heard that before, but didn't know where.

As her mind was still trying to make sense of things, her eyes got heavier. The sound of the raindrops lulled her into feeling safe. She drifted off to sleep.

In a blink, Genesis's head thrashed to one side. Still sleeping, the images that were foggy and blurred became clear. Red. The red was so bright. It was moving; swaying from side to side. As the image became bigger, Genesis saw that it was hair. Long, red hair. Genesis was in what looked like a carriage or something similar. She was sitting next to a girl. Her hair was red. Genesis couldn't see the girl's face. There was a lovely locket around the girl's neck. She reached up to touch it. Something about the action taunted Genesis. Genesis leaned over to shout at her. Still, the girl would not turn. Then, in slow motion, the girl began to turn her way. Her red hair was twisting in the breeze. Slowly …so slowly.

"Genesis, wake up!" Genesis's eyes flew open. Thierry was breathing hard.

"You were screaming, Genesis. I could hear you all the way downstairs. You must have been having a nightmare. Are you alright?"

Genesis was shaking hard, and so was Thierry.

Thierry gave her a little shake. "Well, are you going tell me or not? What was it?"

Genesis couldn't deny that she was a little disturbed. But, when she thought about the dream, she didn't understand why she was so upset. It was just a carriage, and it was just a girl.

"Honestly, I don't know," Genesis gave an embarrassed laugh. "It was nothing. Just a girl riding with me in a carriage. I don't know why I got so upset. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Thierry dropped his arms from Genesis's shoulders.

"Did she say anything to you?"

Genesis looked at Thierry. "Why would you ask me something like that? It was a dream. Just a dream, Thierry. It wasn't real. It's nothing to get worried about."

"Is that so?" Thierry sounded skeptical. "Screaming usually implies there is something to worry about. Tell me the truth Genesis. Don't lie."

"Lie to you? What reason would I have to lie to you about a dream?"

Genesis's mouth thinned. "Now listen, just because you are my brother doesn't mean you can talk to me any way you like. You may remember me, I don't remember you. And speaking of being my brother, you still have a lot of questions to answer. Now would be a great time to start."

Thierry continued to stand there with his arms folded across his chest.

"Well, brother," her snide attitude had no impact on him at all. "Do tell. You are the only link I have to my memory. Are you going to keep me waiting? I want to know right now what is going on. You talk to me about lying, but what about you? There are things you are obviously not telling me. Why! What is it that you don't want me to know, Thierry?"

By now, he was heading for the door. It infuriated Genesis.

"Why weren't you there for me!" Her shout echoed off the walls.

Thierry stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn around.

"I woke up all alone, Thierry. You are my brother! You should have been there! And now, nothing makes sense to me at all. I feel at odds with everything about my life. Just explain it to me. Give me something. Don't you think you owe me that!"

Thierry still hadn't moved. When he spoke, it wasn't to address her need for information.

"If you remember anything more, tell me."

Genesis flopped back onto the pillows. Tears stung her eyes. But, she would not let him see her cry. "I told you; it was just some girl. I must have been screaming because I was yelling at her in the dream. I don't know what I said, but I have the feeling it was her name. At least, that's the impression I got."

"Do you know the name you called her?"

"No, I don't know." Genesis shook her head and put her hand up to her forehead. She froze before she raised her head. "You do, don't you? You know the name I called her."

He said nothing as he closed the door behind him.

Genesis added another question to the hundreds still unanswered.

Who was the girl with the red hair?

EIGHT

Thierry needed to talk to Mae. His steps were unhurried. The wooden floors of the house creaked in protest at the unwanted pressure. He rubbed the back of his neck. He could hear the sound of Queen blasting from a room at the end of the hall. He knocked on Mae's door and was greeted with a loud "Whaaaaat." He opened Mae's door then grimaced as the blaring music hurt his ears. Mae had posters of various artists that spanned over decades. Some, she even met in person. Or at least, that's what she said.

He pointed towards the record player. "Turn it down now, Mae."

Mae looked up from her magazine. Then her eyes rolled up as she rolled over to turn the record off. She flipped back over to give Thierry a dead pan stare. She jabbed a finger towards the record player. "That is Queen, my friend. Show some respect."

"Mae, I see you still have your penchant for record players. You know, technology has improved over the years. Your age is showing."

She snorted, and went to flip back on the record ignoring Thierry.

"Genesis saw her, Mae, in a dream," Thierry said.

Mae's head jerked around. She leapt up onto her knees on the bed. She brought her hands up to her mouth as if she were searching for something to say. When Thierry still hadn't responded, she shouted, "Thierry!"

"No, she didn't remember much. But you know what this means, Mae. She will start remembering soon, much sooner than I thought. I don't trust him, Mae. Silas is unpredictable. I know he said this was part of the process. He said she would have to piece her memories together. I know, Mae, I know when she does Genesis will admit all things she's done. She'll

accept what she was, and she'll want to change. We'll have her back. The Genesis we love. Although, I'm starting to question if we really know why Silas brought her back."

"I know you two have your issues, Thierry. But Silas wouldn't lie to us. Why would he? I realize there is no love lost between the two of you. I mean, he's the reason you're here to begin with," Mae sighed lifting her arm over her head to tap the back of her fingers against the wall behind her headboard.

For the first time since coming in the room, Thierry displayed emotion. He clenched his fist as he took a step forward.

Mae's gaze never wavered. All the while her knuckles continued their light tapping on the wall.

"Be careful, Thierry," her warning was gentle. There was no condemnation in her voice. Her eyes were focused on the side of Thierry's face. "It's starting to glow."

Thierry quit advancing while he fingered the side of his neck and face. His expression returned to normal. The only telltale sign he gave that Mae's remark bothered him was when he closed his eyes for a split second.

"Thank you, Mae."

Mae rolled off the bed to stand in front of Thierry. Mae was so tiny that the top of her head just reached his shoulder. She reached out to touch his cheek. She turned to walk over to the two glass doors in her bedroom. She opened them walking into the night air. The smell of rain still permeated the air around the cemetery.

Thierry went to stand behind Mae. "My mind keeps telling me we have her back. It keeps telling me that, but," he paused.

"But what," Mae prompted.

"But are we going to regret it?"

They both stood there staring out into the night while raindrops fell down on the rough gravestones disappearing into the ground below.

NINE

Such a delicious smell, Genesis thought as she woke. She found herself focusing on the candles that were still glowing, and the heavy black curtains overlaid with lace. Not a glimmer of light made its way into the room. Genesis felt her mouth start to water. What is that amazing smell?

Genesis raised her arms high over her head then swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her mouth turned down because she was still wearing the hospital gown from yesterday. She noticed a dresser in the corner. She went over and opened one of the drawers. She reached in to take out the only garment she saw. It was a long dress; plain in fashion. It had long sleeves and was fitted in the bodice. The skirt hung all the way to her ankles. She shook the dress out. She coughed from the cloud of dust. She thought about how Mae dressed. Mae wore a much shorter skirt, and her sleeves were short. She thought about Thierry too. He wore loose, fitting, black pants with a black shirt.

She glanced down at the dress in her hand. It seemed very different from how the other two dressed. It looked like it might be a tad uncomfortable. Oh well. Anything is better than wearing this thing again.

The material clung to her skin. It was a struggle to button the tiny buttons. After some time, she got the dress on. She walked over to the large, oval mirror in her room peering at her reflection. Genesis saw a stranger. Her black hair hung in matted clumps down her back. Her skin was pale, and that accentuated her black eyes. She avoided looking at the dreadful scar on her face.

In her mind, she saw the red flowers Mae wore in her hair. She decided she wanted to wear them. Maybe they would make her feel better about this dress.

An idea came to Genesis. With a smile, she went out into the hallway. There were many doors, so she wasn't sure which one was Mae's room. Until she saw the sign hanging on the outside. Genesis put her ear to the door before she opened it. She listened, but she heard no noise. She opened the door and grinned.

This girl loves pink, was the first impression she had. Pink was everywhere. There was such color in Mae's room. Large pieces of paper hung on her walls, but they didn't look like paintings. They looked like paper with drawings completed by an artist who had amazing skill. These pieces of paper had names Genesis didn't recognize written across the bottom. Genesis touched one of the letters. A formation took place in her mind. She knew what this was. If she could just think of its name. The letters pieced themselves together, and a word came to her…poster. She was certain that's what it was called. She touched the smaller one hanging next to it. It was a photograph. Yes, Genesis knew what a photograph was. She turned to survey the rest of room.

Mae's bed was small. True, Mae was a tiny person, but this bed didn't appear to have enough room for Mae to move comfortably. Beads hung from the ceiling. There were lamps arranged all over the room. Genesis noted the fact that the lamps were all different. Some had simple structures, while others were more intricate in detail. Genesis preferred the lamp with just a candle as its centerpiece. Genesis went in further. Mae had a narrow dressing table crammed with boxes. Just like the lamps, the boxes varied as well. Genesis ran her hand over each one. Each box had a different texture. A few were made of satin, and a few were made of wood. Others were made of a material Genesis couldn't place. Some had intricate patterns drawn on them while others were plain- lacking character. Genesis went to open one. It was locked. She tried the next, and it was locked too. She picked one up expecting it to be empty. However, she could hear items moving inside the closed space. Why would Mae have this many boxes locked if items were inside. Each one- locked. Genesis examined the box. She realized the boxes were not locked. They were welded shut. Every single one was welded shut. For an unknown reason, this unsettled Genesis. It unsettled her because it wasn't as if Mae didn't want someone in her things: it was as if Mae was trying to keep herself out too. Why?

Genesis turned her back on the array of boxes, and inspected the rest of Mae's room. It was shiny. The girl definitely liked shine. Genesis felt it beneath her foot before she saw it. She lifted her foot off the shaggy carpet. She had stepped on a coin. Genesis saw that there were coins dumped all over the carpet. Her eyes followed the trail. They were everywhere. Coins with contrasting colors and shapes. Genesis went to pick up one of the coins. It was stuck. It was

actually stuck somehow to the carpet. She bent down, and ran her hands over the mass of coins on the floor. None of them moved either. Why would Mae throw coins all over her floor? Genesis withdrew her hands. She didn't want to touch them anymore.

Mae's taste in decorating was eccentric to say the least. Genesis saw she owned very few personal items. Her wardrobe was minimal. Genesis found only three outfits hanging in the closet. And the bad news for Genesis was, Mae had only one other pair of flowers. Pink. Figures, Genesis gave a slight huff.

Since she couldn't find any red flowers, Genesis decided to leave. Something on Mae's bed caught her eye. It was a very small photograph, so small she could hold it one hand. Genesis found herself gazing at a lovely Asian women. She resembled Mae. Her face was radiant as she smiled. Genesis found her own lips curving in response to that smile. She wore her hair in the same bun as Mae. Genesis traced the contours of the woman's face. And just who might you be? Genesis tossed the photograph back onto the bed. She didn't like Mae's room. She gave herself a mental shake. So, the room is strange. Nothing to be concerned about, just a strange room and a strange girl, she comforted herself with the assertion as she left the room knowing she did not ever want to enter it again.

She shut the door, and an aroma wafted from downstairs. A sweet smell. Her stomach rumbled, and she followed the scent. Mae's room forgotten.

She hurried down the staircase. As usual, there was no light, just the luminance of the burning candles. The living room was empty, but she heard movement coming from behind a door to her left. She pushed it open.

There was Mae. She was sitting at a long table in the center of the room. It was the kitchen, and it was large. The floor had black and white tiles, a large sunken sink with what looked like a silver hose attached to it. The cabinets were white, the paint was chipped, and a black cloth covered the windows. The kitchen had the same look as the rest of the house…worn.

But like so many things that become worn, if one looks long enough the faded remains disappear so the beauty of what once was becomes visible.

Genesis focused on what Mae was doing. She was stuffing something into her mouth as fast as she could. White powder covered her lips. She saw Genesis, and patted the table opposite her. Genesis sat down eyeing the tray with the delicious smelling food.

"I knew this would get you up. I made your favorite, Gen…apple pastries. I know how you love them. Here, they're still hot." Mae pushed the plate towards Genesis.

Genesis scooped some of the powder onto her finger first. She brought it to her mouth to taste. Delicious. She picked one up, and sunk her teeth into the hot, sugary concoction. She ate one after another. They were addicting.

She forgot about Mae's presence until she heard her chuckle.

"Sorry, these are wonderful. Thank you, Mae."

Genesis went to get another while Mae linked her hands resting them on the table. Genesis could tell Mae was holding herself back.

"Eat some more. There are a lot left."

Mae eyed the plate, but didn't touch it. "No thanks, I've had enough."

Genesis gave her a pointed look. "It doesn't look like you've had enough, Mae. Drooling usually means you haven't had enough. Don't tell me you're worried about your figure," Genesis teased.

Still, Mae didn't move. Genesis picked up a pastry waving in front of Mae's face.

"Come on, Mae. You know you want one. Don't make me eat alone. Have another."

"Genesis, I said no. Leave it alone."

"Mae, you are being silly. Why did you make so many if…?"

Mae blurted out, "I have to be careful, alright. I have to watch…I have to be careful."

Genesis was surprised by Mae's outburst. "But you want another one. You made more than three dozen, so have one. I don't see the problem."

"So, what does that mean Genesis? Because I want it, I should take it?"

"Do what you want, Mae. It's more for me," Genesis popped another in her mouth.

A couple of tense minutes went by with neither of them saying anything. Genesis glanced up. Mae was frozen with a horrified look on her face. If possible, she was even paler than before. Mae was shaking her head back and forth as if she couldn't believe her eyes. She was getting to her feet at the same time. Genesis continued to chew as she watched her.

Mae pointed a finger that wasn't quite steady towards Genesis's dress. She murmured, "Genesis, what are you wearing?"

Genesis swallowed. "I am assuming I'm wearing my dress. It was in my room." Her forehead raised as she said to herself, "I must not like to show much skin."

Mae was still shaking her head back and forth. But now, her hand came up to cover her mouth.

"It's my fault. I was supposed to lay out clothes for you. I forgot. When you walked in, I was so focused on eating I didn't notice you. See! I told you I have to be careful!" she shouted.

Genesis' head went back at the force of Mae's statement. Her eyes ran up and down Mae's clothes. There was a striking contrast in the way they were dressed, but she didn't know why Mae would make such a fuss.

"Hurry, get up. Get up now before he sees. He'll be upset because I forgot." Mae was grabbing Genesis by the arm yanking her up at the same time. They both fell through the door in their haste.

Thierry stood like he was carved from marble. Mae rushed forward towards him.

"Thierry, I'm so sorry. I forgot. It was my responsibility and I forgot. She found it in the dresser. I could have sworn I moved it."

Genesis began to move herself. She was eyeing the two of them. Her steps were measured as she moved to where they were standing. Genesis was confused. She looked at Thierry who was dressed in black as usual. But again, the clothing differed compared to Genesis's clothing. He was wearing loose fitting black pants, and the same black shirt. Genesis could make out a shiny object. A belt buckle. Yes, she was positive that was its name.

Thierry still stared. Then, he strode forward yanking Genesis into his arms. Gripping her to him tightly. She was stunned at his behavior. With hesitation, she put her arm up loosely around him to pat his back. Just like that, he let go.

Still looking at Genesis, he spoke to Mae.

"Get her the clothes, and throw this out."

It surprised Genesis to see that Mae turned to do his bidding without a smart remark. Genesis put up a hand. "Wait just a minute. Is anyone going to explain what is going on here?"

When neither of them spoke, Genesis felt her patience coming to an end. She was getting very tired of this secrecy.

"Listen, enough is enough. What is going on here! What is the issue with my clothes? Anyone?" she asked.

She turned to Thierry. "No answer, brother."

She went at Mae next. "Nor from you, best friend," she drawled out. "I seem to recall you were wearing that same ensemble yesterday. Did you by chance take my clothes, and replace them with this dress. Did you want them for yourself? Did you really forget, Mae?" Genesis felt driven to goad her.

The air in the room shifted, and strands of hair began to weave out of Mae's immaculate bun; unseen fingers releasing the strands from their confinement. Genesis couldn't stop looking at her- then she heard it.

It was subtle. At first, Genesis couldn't quite place the sound. Then, the sound became clearer. The blood in her veins turned to ice. It was hissing, and she knew it was a snake. Genesis was terrified of snakes. Her head snapped one way, and then the other. She was panicked as her eyes searched the room to locate the direction of the sound. She was backing up unaware that she was doing it. She turned to run from the room when Thierry spoke.

"Mae, stop it now!"

Only the crackling of firewood could be heard in the otherwise silent room. Genesis placed a trembling hand to her chest. Her heart rate returned to normal. She could have convinced herself that she'd just hallucinated, although something within her knew better. There was something off about Mae and Thierry, and Genesis was starting to suspect she was no different.

"There is something very wrong here. I feel it. Don't you think I feel it! I want you to listen and listen well. If you two won't tell me what is going on here, I promise I will find someone who will." She turned towards the staircase.

"Genesis, wait," Thierry said. "I know we acted strange about your dress. It's just that," he considered his words. "It's just that you reminded me of someone dressed like that. The likeness is remarkable. I wasn't expecting it is all."

"This dress reminded you of someone?"

"Yes, I didn't know her at all. It was her photograph. She used to live in this house- years ago. I believe that dress you are wearing was hers. It looks exactly like the one she had on in the photograph. It caught me off guard. That's all. "

"May I see the photograph?" Genesis asked.

"It's gone. We cleared the previous owner's belongings out a while ago. That went out as well. As far as the dress goes, it must have been overlooked. We still find some things stashed around the house. "

This didn't make sense to Genesis. "But you were so upset. So was Mae. Why would you be upset about a girl in a photograph that you didn't know?"

Thierry glanced up over the fireplace where an outline still lingered. It was a large, rectangular shape. The exact size of a frame. Genesis knew that was where it was hung. Still

staring at the spot, Thierry answered. "You want the truth, Genesis. She could have been your twin: you two look identical. I admit I became attached to it."

Genesis laughed. "Why would you become attached to it? I'm your sister. I'm sure we saw each other regularly. You would have no reason to stare at that," she said, referencing the space over the fireplace.

Thierry went over to the fireplace. He put his arm up on the mantle and leaned into it. He was bracing himself. When he spoke, Genesis understood why.

"You left, Genesis. You and I haven't seen each other in a long time. Mae hasn't seen you either."

This was news to Genesis. She had left? Why? Why would she leave her brother and Mae? Granted she couldn't remember them, but she could see they cared for her. They were the only ones here now when she had no one else. More to the point, where else did she go?

"I left? Where did I go? Did we have some sort of disagreement? And if I wasn't here, that means other people must know me. I must have a life out there with people who know me." She balled her fists in frustration. "Tell me," she yelled.

Thierry's head hung down. It was Mae who finally came forward.

"Genesis, listen to me. I know there are things going on that you don't understand. If I were in your shoes, I would feel the exact same way. I would be just as frustrated as you are and just as angry. Please believe me when I tell you this. We would never do anything to harm you. Anything that we do is for your own good. I know that doesn't make sense right now. Trust us, please."

"Trust you," Genesis shouted. "I don't even know you!"

Mae was unfazed. "I realize that, Gen. And I am going to tell you something that is going to make you even more upset. But, I think you have the right to know."

Thierry turned around. "Mae, be quiet."

Mae sliced her hand through the air cutting him off. "No, Thierry, she has a right to know this. I'm going to tell her." Mae took a deep breath. "The thing is, Gen…we can't tell you. It's the rule."

No movement from anyone. Mae was looking at Genesis as if she was afraid she was going to throw herself out the window. Thierry was looking at Mae in seething silence. And Genesis-Genesis was focused on one word. Rule. It was the rule.

Genesis leaned forward. "It's the rule. Is that what you said, Mae? Are you crazy? You can tell me. Is that bun pulled back a little too tight? Is it cutting off the blood flow to your brain? What do you mean "it's the rule?" Whose rule?"

"Since you've been through a lot, Gen, I'm going to ignore those comments. But to answer the question, it's not our rule. It's out of our hands. We've been told, and we have no choice but to listen."

Genesis reached up clutching at her hair like she wanted to rip it from the roots. "Have you all lost your minds! You've been told not to tell me! Is that it? WHO told you not to tell me?" Angry tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She would not let them see her cry.

Thierry faced her. "I'm going to make this clear for you, Genesis. We can't tell you. You have to remember. And when you do, and I promise you will, this will all make sense. Do you understand?"

Genesis didn't understand. But, she knew one thing with certainty. She was leaving this house tomorrow. Someone…somewhere out there had answers. She was going to find them. It was useless with these two.

Without another word, she turned to make her way up the staircase. Her mind was made up. She was finished here. And she knew one other thing with absolute conviction. Thierry lied. The photograph missing from the wall was of her.

TEN

It was cold. He pulled his long coat closer to keep in the warmth. The black gloves helped protect his fingers from the biting chill. He moved with a purpose. There was a place up ahead where university students liked to gather, and unwind after a long afternoon of lectures. He dodged people walking down the street. Occasionally, he would bump into someone not paying attention. A couple of times, he almost fell because of the wet pavement. He stifled a muttered oath as a group walked towards him. They were laughing, and they were loud. One of them was tossing a ball in the air. It was hard to tell what kind of ball it was because it was so dirty. The kid was looking sideways at his friends, not paying attention. Thierry went to move around them, when the one with the ball jogged back a little to make a pass to his friend who was wearing a baseball cap backwards. Thierry couldn't side step him fast enough, and they crashed together. The one who threw the tattered ball staggered before falling to one knee. Thierry reached out a hand to help him up, and it was knocked to the side with a closed fist.

"Man, wanna watch where you're goin?" the kid said as he stood up, and stepped closer to Thierry. Thierry found it a little amusing that he thought of him as a "kid". They looked the same in age, but Thierry had stopped being a kid a long time ago.

Thierry held up both arms bent at the elbows, palms open wide. It was a gesture meant to soothe. It didn't have that effect.

"I'm talking to you." He was so close that Thierry could see the vicious scar over his eye, and the one that split open his lip. "You're just gonna knock someone down and not say anything?" It came out as a question, but it was more of a challenge.

Thierry spoke without a trace of emotion. "Actually, it was the other way around. But, that's alright. We'll just call it even." He took a step backwards.

By now, the kid's face was getting red. His friends were calling him to go; impatient to have to wait.

Ezra. The kid's name was Ezra. One of them grabbed him by the shoulder, but Ezra shrugged it off with a jerk.

"Even," his tone was incredulous. "We're not even till you tell me what I wanna hear! But if you don't wanna say it, we can settle the score another way. " His pupils were dilated, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists.

Thierry gestured to the scar above his eye. "That looks pretty bad. How did you get it?"

"Do you wanna find out?"

Thierry refused to rise to the bait because he was curious about something. So he asked him a question. "Are you sorry?"

Ezra blinked. He wasn't expecting that. When he realized he showed that second of weakness, it made him angrier.

Thierry saw him reach into one of the front pockets of his sweatshirt. Thierry knew what he was reaching for without even seeing it. He could feel the cold metal of the blade as if he held it in his own hand.

"Sorry for what?" Ezra sneered at Thierry. "What do you think I should be sorry about? Do you think you know me now? I outta teach you a lesson. First, you almost knock me down, and now with the stupid questions." He looked back at his friends who were snickering. He laughed and turned back to Thierry.

With a smile that didn't reach his eyes he answered Thierry. "No. I'm not sorry."

"You hurt people don't you?"

That wiped the smile off his face. A nerve began to tick along his jaw. He stepped so close to Thierry that they were toe to toe. Only Thierry could hear his response.

"So what if I do. Maybe they deserve it."

"Aren't you ever worried? I'm sure you've heard the saying what goes around comes around, haven't you? Aren't you worried about what will happen when it's your turn?"

Thierry knew the kid, Ezra, was thrown off guard. He didn't know what to make of Thierry.

Thierry recognized him. He knew the signs so well. Wrath. It was deadly. It made the sane do the insane. It ripped things apart. It could kill. Thierry was proof of that which was why he pitied him.

More than that, he wanted to help him. He knew rationalizing wasn't going to work. It never did. There was only one thing to do.

Thierry moved his eyes to the ball. In the blink of an eye it was torn from the kid wearing the baseball cap to Thierry's hand. It snapped into his. Everyone in the group shouted in fear, and began to look at each other in confusion. Thierry knew their logical mind was trying to come to terms with what just happened.

The words Thierry spoke were only heard by Ezra. "Let me try to help you understand this a little better. Once, there was a man who was married to a very rich woman. The man decided he wanted all that wealth to himself. So, he came up with a plan. See, his wife was having problems with her memory. So, the man decided to make his wife think she was going crazy. His wife collected cat figurines. She loved them. She displayed them all over the house. Every night, the man would take one of the figurines, and hide it way up on a shelf in the closet down in the basement. His wife was a small woman, and would never be able to reach that high. The wife would realize the figurine was missing and look for it. The husband would of course deny that he had seen the figurines. Therefore, the wife began to think she was losing her mind. The husband would taunt her about her memory. After a while, there were several figurines hidden on that shelf. They were small, but heavy. One night, the husband went to put up the last figurine, his wife's favorite, when the shelf gave way under all that pressure. The figurines crashed on the husband's head and knocked him unconscious." Thierry's lip turned up at the corner. "Sadly, when he fell he broke his neck. Understand?"

Thierry knew Ezra thought he was nuts. He saw it in his face.

"Let me put this another way. There is a price you pay for your actions. They don't just go away. They live and breathe. Be sure it's a price you want to pay."

With a flick of his wrist, Thierry chucked the ball at Ezra. He took his eyes off Thierry for a second to catch the ball. When he looked back up, all he saw was his own reflection in the window of the yellow cab parked on the side of the road.

Twenty minutes later, Ezra was still standing in the same spot clutching the ball in his hand. For some strange reason, he wanted to adopt a cat.

ELEVEN

Farris town had no shortage of pubs. The ones lining the street were already crowded even though it was only in the middle of the afternoon. A person passing by could hear laughter, the lively conversation, and the noise of the television with the latest sports game prompting cheers for the scoring team. This particular pub could get a little rowdy at times. Plenty of action for everyone. Thierry knew that's where he would find him. He loved to come to these kinds of places. It was his element. Thierry held open the door for a couple as they left the pub, and stepped inside. The place was heated well, and Thierry took off his gloves to rub his hands together. He was starting to feel his fingers again.

His attention was caught by a loud shout over at a table full of college students. They were engrossed in a game on the television. That's when he saw him. He was sitting at a table right in the middle of the room. Silas was never one to sit in the corner. As usual, Silas was wearing a plain, white shirt. No patterns or colors to draw any attention. He wasn't looking at Thierry, but Thierry knew he was well aware of his presence. He was lounging back in one of the plastic chairs casually cracking the peanut shell he was holding in his hand. All the while, a knowing smile hovered over his mouth. Silas knew there was not one person in that place who was not aware of him. The girls kept sneaking glances over at him, and their boyfriends were looking at the girls wondering why they continued to steal gazes at the strange boy sitting alone. Thierry knew this amused him. Even though he liked the attention, Silas had no interest in any of them.

He made his way over to his table. Girls were hovering over their tables, whispering, hoping to catch Silas's attention. Silas never looked at them. He was good at pushing the boundaries, but he never stepped over them. Although with time, he was getting closer and closer.

Still looking at the shell in his hand, he spoke. "And to what do I owe this honor?"

Thierry pulled out the chair opposite of Silas and sat down. He put his forearm on the table, fixing Silas with a stare. "You know why I'm here. Don't play games with me, Silas."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Thierry. Don't tell me I've broken some rule in your opinion again? Are you going to lecture me now?" He threw down the peanut shell with exaggeration. "I came here for some fun, not to sit and listen to you. By the looks of it, you could use a little fun, old friend."

Thierry was drawing female attention himself. Souls were drawn to them. Even though he, and Silas for that matter, looked so different from them-otherworldly. Yet, the living didn't see it. Didn't see the strangeness of their appearance or how it contrasted from theirs. They only saw the appeal. It was that way for all Sentinels. To them, the attention of the living wasn't important. Except for Silas- he loved it. That was why places like this were so dangerous to him. He was already pushing it. Being here, sitting like this, was trouble for him.

Thierry was just about to speak when a girl walked up to the table. Silas didn't acknowledge her, just picked up another peanut out of the tin.

"My friends and I were wondering if you want to come watch the game with us. We're sitting right over there," she gestured behind her. "That's our school playing. We go to the university here." She paused to look back at her friends, her actions relaying her awkwardness. "We just ordered some food. After we eat some of us might go see a movie. So, do you want to come with us?"

Silas didn't speak nor did he glance at the girl. He traced the checkered pattern on the table. He let his eyes drift upward to meet Thierry's. Their gazes locked. Still the girl stood there, and still Silas didn't glance her way. Thierry knew what Silas wanted to do. The fact that he hadn't gave Thierry some hope. His eyes were drawn to the side of Silas's neck and face.

"Silas, it's glowing," he warned.

Still ignoring the hovering girl, he balled his fist up tapping the table top in a repeated motion. He just grinned. "Don't tell me you're worried about me all of a sudden, Thierry? That would require emotion." His face lit up as if a sudden thought came to him. "Ah, that's right. There is one emotion you know very well. Isn't that right, Thierry? I should know after all."

"Silas, don't. Not now. We have something to discuss you and me."

Silas nodded with a gleam in his eyes. He lifted his hand and gave a small wave.

The girl started as if she had been daydreaming.

"No thanks," Silas said. He sounded bored.

The girl said something under her breath as she went back to her table.

Thierry studied Silas. He asked, "Why do you come here. Why do you do this to yourself?"

"What, dare to mingle with them? Isn't that what we are supposed to do? Isn't that what we're here for? What am I doing that's so wrong?"

"That's the reason I'm here, Silas. You know what I'm talking about."

Silas rubbed his chin with the flat of his hand pretending to think hard. "Give me just a minute, Thierry. You obviously think I'm up to no good, and I really want to assist you with

whatever problem you might have. If you would give me some kind of a clue, I might be able to help."

"She's back, Silas. Just like you said she would be. Don't pretend to not know who I'm talking about."

"Genesis is home! I don't believe it," Silas said. "How long has it been now? You just never know what a new day will bring." Silas slapped the table with a light smack. "How is she doing by the way? You will send her my regards. Although, she might not be too happy to hear from me come to think of it."

Thierry could feel the burn starting. It was building up inside of him. He knew Silas was goading him. He took several breaths to calm down while Silas just clasped his hands behind his head. Thierry wanted to lunge over the table at him.

"I'm not a fool, Silas. You know Genesis is home. You were the one who arranged it, but I want to know what happens now? I know you said she has to remember things on her own, but what happens then? I'm going to say it straight; I don't trust you. I don't think you're telling us everything."

"You know I'm not the only one involved in Genesis's return. I'm not the one who makes up the rules. He does. Yes, I'm talking about the one everyone is so concerned with," Silas said.

"Don't you dare, Silas."

"This is the fun part. You know His rules. She has to remember on her own and all that. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"But, do you know why?" Silas taunted.

"What are you talking about, Silas? Genesis remembers, she wants forgiveness, and we get her back."

"You really think it's that easy, Thierry. All is forgiven that easy? How simple for you and for Genesis. Nothing in life is that simple."

By now, Thierry was standing. It took every ounce of his will power to control himself. He knew the side of his face was glowing. He could see it out of the corner of his eye. He was furious.

"You lied. I knew it."

"I didn't lie, no. I just left out some details that's all."

"Why? What can you possibly gain by not telling us the whole truth!"

"This is the fun part, I told you. I dared Him."

Thierry was sure his hearing failed him. Until he saw the smugness radiating from Silas.

Forming words became difficult. Silas was bluffing, he had to be. That was the only explanation. Silas was gone, but not that gone.

"Wanna bet?" Silas asked.

Thierry couldn't believe what Silas was saying. The words; when they came, tumbled over one another.

"You dared Him. Silas, are you crazy! Why would you do something so insolent?"

It hit Thierry then, who Silas used to make the dare. He knew his eyes were red. All traces of white were gone.

He roared the accusation. "You made a dare through my sister? With Genesis!"

Thierry was going to die- again. He was going to commit the sin that caused his human death. He knew where he would be sent. No other Sentinel ever committed the sin that took its life or took another life for that matter.

Except one.

Thierry didn't try to stop the tide of rage coursing through him. He would gladly die for his sister. He failed from saving her from her human life, but he would not fail her now.

"Thierry, think this through. You don't have the weapon with you to kill me."

Thierry felt blood running from his nose. The part of his mind still functioning told him Silas was right, he didn't have the weapon. That didn't mean Thierry couldn't bring him close to death, and then finish him off.

Blood was going into Thierry's mouth now. It caused him to sputter his condemnation.

"You dared to challenge Him that created all things, and damn you, you used Genesis!"

Silas couldn't meet Thierry's eyes. When he did, Silas did what Thierry thought impossible. Silas tried to help him.

"Listen to me, Thierry. Don't give in to the rage because of me. I'm not worth it. Your sister still has a chance. Her future is not written in stone. Calm down."

Thierry clung to the frugal words of hope. The red was leaving his eyes. His vision was no longer clouded. If his sister had a chance, he would move heaven and earth to help her.

"Sit, please," Silas offered.

Thierry collapsed into the chair. His legs wouldn't support him anymore.

"Why would you challenge Him, Silas? You can't win."

"You don't understand the nature of our bet."

"Help me to understand."

"The man upstairs and I have a difference of opinion."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say He thinks people can change and I disagree. Despite mankind's insidious natures, He believes they are capable of greatness. I know He's wrong. Mankind is a mistake. We are a mistake. "

"And for this you used Genesis?"

"I used all of us, Thierry, don't you get it? It's about all of us. In the coming days, Genesis will remember. Here is the part that I left out. Genesis is going to be tested, and by her being tested all of you will. But, you cannot intervene in any way."

Thierry's mark started to glow.

Silas held up a hand. "Don't get angry at me. Those are not my rules, they're His."

"I won't need to intervene. When her memory returns, she'll realize all the things she's done. She'll want forgiveness. She'll be changed, I know it."

Silas folded his arms. "Are we talking about the same Genesis? You know what Genesis was. You won't admit it, but I know you do."

"She will change this time."

"That's your love for her talking," Silas said.

Thierry clenched his hands on top of the table. "You mentioned Genesis being tested. What kind of test will it be?"

"Not one, but many, and I can't tell" Silas replied.

"Do you hate her that much, hate us all that much?"

"I don't like any of you, but hate has no part of it."

"What does?"

"I want to prove I'm right."

"Silas, that sounds like pride to me."

"No, its confidence."

"Is this all of it, Silas? Or is there more?"

Silas lied through his teeth. "No, that's pretty much it."

Thierry frowned. "Why is He letting you get away with this?"

Silas smiled. "He wants to see if I'm right."

"I'm going to ask you one more thing, Silas. I want the truth. Are you working with them, the Seekers?"

"That's one fact I won't divulge right now."

Thierry grabbed Silas around the throat. "You tell me right now, Silas or so help me I will."

Silas cut him off. "You'll what, Thierry? Kill me?" His voice had more impact because of its softness.

Thierry fell back. He forgot they were in a public place. It didn't matter. The living were oblivious to what was going on. They continued to shout at the television.

"I'm telling you, Silas, before it's too late. You cannot work with them. It is forbidden."

Silas held up his hands. "Well, no one's stopping me."

"Silas, you are a Sentinel. Your loyalty lies with us. I'm not leaving until you tell me what your involvement is with the Seekers."

Silas compressed his lips, and shook his head like he felt sorry for him. "Thierry, it just looks like you can't get a break tonight."

Confused, Thierry glanced over his shoulder following the direction of Silas's eyes. It was Ezra, and he was still carrying that stupid ball. Ezra was walking up to the girl who had approached Silas. One of the other college students sitting at the table pointed over in their direction, and Thierry heard Ezra curse. He sliced his fist through the air in an angry motion, and then he strode towards Thierry and Silas. Thierry surmised the situation. The girl who went to the university was his girlfriend.

Silas grabbed a peanut and tossed it into his mouth.

Thierry knew Ezra was coming for him. Even though it was Silas who caught his girlfriend's attention, it was Thierry he was after. Thierry's mind was working at top speed. He couldn't fight, not in anger. If he did, then it was over for him. Thierry knew he had to let Ezra come in close proximity to him, without engaging in a physical fight. By the look on his face, Thierry wasn't so sure that was an option. Thierry stood and watched him approach. Ezra didn't say a word, just raised his arm swinging it towards Thierry's face.

In a blur of movement, Thierry grasped his arm. He stopped it in midair. As soon as he touched him, everything around them became a blur. Movements were rewinding. Thierry clearly saw the moment when Ezra walked into the pub, and the few seconds before when he was

talking to Silas. Thierry was manipulating time, but he could only do it for so long. While this was happening, Ezra's image was fading in front of Thierry. His physical body was being propelled back in time. In no more than a few seconds, both Ezra and his friends vanished.

Thierry felt weak. Meddling with time took a serious toll on him. He wouldn't be able to do it again for another day. That was why it was so important to make a wise choice. There were consequences for using their gifts. The weaker a Sentinel became after using their ability, and the longer it took for them to reuse it, determined how close they were for their time to be up. Sentinels didn't live forever. That was part of the deal. Sentinels knew their time was limited. Even though using their gifts shortened their life span, they were compelled to help others. It was in their nature. They could resist at times, but eventually the pull was too strong.

A noise to his left brought Thierry back to the present. He glanced over at the table, and saw that Silas was gone. Without waiting any longer, Thierry rushed out of the door before Ezra had a chance to come back inside. He had to get to Mae. He had to tell her what he discovered.

TWELVE

Silas stood with his shoulder propped against a street sign. He saw Thierry rush out of the pub. Things were falling right into place. He knew once Thierry saw Genesis he would come searching for him. It surprised Silas how easy it was to provoke Thierry. For the most part, he was rigid about control. Silas didn't think he would lose it that fast. Then again, Thierry had always been protective when it came to his sister. Silas tried to remember a time when he felt protective towards anyone- felt anything for anyone. Yes, he helped people, but that was more out of compulsion than protectiveness. His eyes were dispassionate as he watched life go on around him. He felt nothing, and he wanted to be nothing.

With an abrupt movement, he moved towards the street. The traffic was heavy, but it was still moving at a decent pace. He stepped out into the road. No horns blared because no one saw him. He didn't let them. There was a time when everyone saw him. There was a time when everyone wanted to be him. Things were much different now. Right at the moment, being invisible suited him just fine.

He stopped in the middle of the street. An SUV was coming towards him, and the driver was not paying attention to the speed limit. Silas watched with bleak anticipation. He knew what the outcome of this would be. Nothing at all. The instant the thought came into his head was the moment the SUV made contact with his body. It didn't stir one hair on Silas's head. Then another car followed and another. Silas didn't blink an eye as the cars passed through him. He knew it wouldn't kill him, and he didn't know why he bothered.

In a blur, he went from the road to the sidewalk where empty cars were parked. Some of the cars belonged to local business owners in the area, some to the people eating in the restaurant on the corner, and some belonged to people out running errands on an ordinary day. Without the usual, casual manner that always accompanied him, he picked the first car up with one hand tossing it into the middle of oncoming traffic. He could hear brakes screeching as cars tried to avoid crashing into one another, and then spinning out of control. The sound of glass breaking, and the shriek of broken metal hurt his ears for a second. He picked up another, and threw it in the opposite direction. The car flew through the air, and then hung suspended for a mere moment of time before obliterating the pavement beneath it; bounced up once more and thudded to a stop. People began to scream and run. Total panic broke out. No one could locate the source of the

chaos which only made the fear worse. A human mind would wonder how a car could be lifted up in the middle of the street, and tossed with no visible effort.

As soon as the last car went flying into the air, Silas yelled at the top of his voice. "Why can't I do it! Just do it and get it over with!"

Silas was mad, and he was raging at himself. He knew what he had to do to end his existence. He already pushed the boundaries so many times he was sure punishment was coming. It had to come, he was certain. He would not be allowed to be defiant much longer. Yet, here he was, and Silas had a good idea why. He made a bet, and he was being taken to task. Fine, if that was the way He wanted it, so be it.

Silas was standing with his back pressed against the side of a building. People were running all around him, but he didn't care. His eyes were closed. He brought his fingers up, and dug them into the sides of his head. He was weary, so weary. He was tired of living like this. He would rather face whatever was in store for him than continue on this way. He took his fist, and punched it through the brick wall behind him. He was a Sentinel for now, that couldn't be helped. But he would be damned if he would help another living soul. He was going to fight that instinct with every fiber of his being. Whatever humans had coming their way, they deserved it in his opinion.

He touched the side of his neck. It wasn't glowing. The mark wasn't glowing because what he felt was anger; not the other emotion. Silas was Vanity. He was pride. They were the same really. Silas knew the marks only glowed when a Sentinel was close to committing that one specific sin: the sin that caused their death while they were still alive. The tattoos represented that sin, and only Sentinels could see them. It was a reminder. A reminder of who and what they were when they were alive.

Through half closed lids, he looked at the destruction he caused. Traffic had come to a standstill, and the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. His eyes moved over the people who were still outside. Some of them were crying, some shouting as they banged on the locked doors of the shops that lined the street, mothers who were frantic with the need to get their children to safety, and some who stood still looking around with a dazed expression. Silas knew what scared them the most. Even if they didn't acknowledge it out loud or otherwise- he knew. It wasn't the damage the cars caused- not precisely. What terrified them the most was the one question they would never ask. What just picked two cars up, and threw them into the air?

Silas knew they would come up with some rational answer to explain it away. They deserve everything they get, he thought. Pathetic and weak.

Silas pushed himself away from the building when he heard a noise. It was wailing. He turned his head to scan the road. Tow trucks were beginning to clear away the cars that remained in the street. Workers were there picking up pieces of metal and broken glass. Still the wailing continued. He headed in the direction of the sound. His steps were reluctant. When he got to the end of the end of the sidewalk, he saw her. A little girl. She was probably around eight or nine years old. She was so still. Her eyes were wide open. The yellow and white, knitted cap she wore was spotted with red. Silas knew the red had not been there a few minutes ago- call it instinct. The girl's mother hovered over her making that terrible noise. She was rocking back and forth shaking the girl as she screamed a name. Grace. The girl's name was Grace.

He moved until he stood over her. Her mother didn't see him: no one could see him. He didn't allow them too. He reached his hand out touching the small face. Her skin was ice cold, and her lifeless eyes stared up at him. It came out as the softest of sounds- her name. Silas called her name.

Her chest rose high as she gasped in air. Her eyes blinked in rapidly, while she wheezed a little. She brought her hand up to touch the back of her head and winced. She took her hand away, revealing it to be stained with blood. She turned, the motion small, and then she saw him. Her eyes trained on Silas. He didn't moved, but instead just stood there, staring back at the small girl. Right at that moment, Grace's mother lifted her head up realizing her daughter was alive. She began to yell and cry at the same time. She reached out, grabbing Grace into her arms as she sobbed into her hair. Still, Grace stared at Silas. Even though Silas could block his sight from humans, he knew the girl could see him. Children always could.

Grace's mother was looking her over. She asked her if she was alright. She was touching her face as she gently pulled the cap off of Grace's head. Her hand covered her mouth when she saw all the blood. She shouted for one of the rescue workers to come over and help. Grace's gaze never wavered from Silas's.

Now is the time, he thought. I can let them see me, let them see I'm the one who saved her. They don't have to know what I am, they won't even know what I am. I can say that the mother was so hysterical that she didn't notice me. She was in shock-yes that sounds perfect. She was in shock. I can blur the images just a bit. Not much, but just enough to make the mother think that maybe she was too panicked to see me. The girl herself will tell them I was there. She saw me. They'll be so grateful, so in awe of me.

Silas knew that was all it would take to end his pact. Pride, vanity, whatever it was called; it was the worst of them. The Deadly Sins. Silas had been alive a long time. He knew the devastation it caused. It caused friendships to end and marriages to fail. People went to their

graves with regrets because of pride. Silas himself went to his grave because of it, and began this living nightmare.

Then, for some reason, he pictured Genesis. He thought about his plan, and his resolve hardened. He wouldn't give in, not yet. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him beaten. He still had time for everything to work out just as he wanted.

With that reassurance, Silas turned. The little girl was now being laid down on a long, white stretcher. Paramedics were busy examining the wound on her head; the wound that should

have killed her. She still looked at him. One of her small hands lifted up to Silas. He looked at that hand. He knew what she assumed he was- an angel. With a deliberate movement, Silas turned his back on that hand. He strolled away from the scene. Not even close.

THIRTEEN

Crickets. That was all she could hear in the blinding fog. Her legs ached from walking. She was getting tired. She was thankful she wasn't wearing that dress anymore. Mae had laid out clothes for Genesis. Black pants and a black, fitted shirt.

Genesis didn't know how long it was since she left the cemetery. It was well before dawn when she set out. She didn't know how much time had passed since then. All she knew was the fog. For some reason, she remembered it well. It gave her a strange sense of comfort. A person could hide in the fog, hide many things. Genesis liked that idea, but she was getting tired. She could see nothing in front of her, and tendrils of fear made her breathing shallow. She didn't remember the route home from the hospital with Mae taking this long. Then, it seemed like the cemetery was much closer to town. Now, it felt like she had been wandering for hours. And those crickets. She covered her ears to drown out the sound. She began to turn in circles. She was no longer sure which way to go. The sound of the crickets was almost too much to handle, but she had to move on. She was determined she would get answers today. She had a life out there somewhere, and she was going to find it.

"Are you sure you want to know?" A voice came out of the fog.

Genesis let out a loud shriek. She felt her pulse accelerating as a form began to take shape in the mist. It was coming towards her. Genesis had to fight with herself not to take a step back. She straightened her spine, and lifted her head as she braced herself for whatever was coming. That's when she heard the muffled laugh. That made her stiffen even more. That laugh made the hair on her arms stand up.

"You haven't changed a bit, Genesis. Those prickly defense mechanisms still in place I see. You never were one to back down. One of your greatest charms and biggest faults."

There he was in front of her. It was a young man. She knew immediately he was one of them. Like Mae and Thierry…but not the same. Her eyes roamed over the stranger. He made her feel as though she should be on guard. And it wasn't because Genesis didn't know him, for deep inside herself she knew she did. Without being aware of it, she broadened her stance.

"You're not by any chance wanting to fight me, Genesis? Is that any way to greet an old friend? I know you don't remember, so I'll tell you. My name is Silas, and I've come to help you."

"Is that so?" Her voice was flat.

Silas began to talk, then abruptly stopped as he turned his head to listen. He gestured to the air while he wrinkled up his face. "Annoying aren't they?" And just like that the noise that had been pounding in Genesis's ears stopped.

She gave a sigh of relief at the blessed silence. Then her eyes shot back to Silas. "How did you do that?"

"What makes you think I did anything?" Silas asked with a straight face.

Genesis took a step toward him, and Silas threw up his arm in defeat.

"Alright, yes I stopped them. Among my many awesome, mysterious powers I have the gift of making crickets shut up."

Genesis felt herself start to grin, and then she suppressed the urge. They both stood sizing each other up for a few seconds. Silas had his hands stuffed in his pockets. He was rocking back and forth on his heels.

"They're a warning, you know," he said as he watched her face.

"What do you mean a warning? Are you talking about the crickets?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

Genesis scoffed. "Yeah, right. That makes perfect sense, ah… Silas is it? Who are they warning, and why am I having this conversation?"

Silas continued to rock back and forth. "You think they don't know you've left?"

Genesis wanted to look over her shoulder, yet forced herself to resist the urge. "You mean Mae and Thierry?"

"Of course I mean Mae and Thierry. You're not one of them. You aren't supposed to be this close to the cemetery." He nodded towards the fog. "That's why you can't find your way around, and you'll never find your way back there without one of them...or me. It's not a place for the living."

This time Genesis did look over her shoulder. All she saw was the thickening, white air. She had a sick feeling in her stomach that Silas was telling the truth. Which in turn made Genesis even more nervous. She looked down at the ground trying to decide what to do. Silas speaking shook her out of her thoughts.

"Does any of this seem weird to you?" he asked. "Most people would be more than rattled right about now. Did you hear what I just said? Not a place for the living with no reaction from you. And I'm sure many other strange things have been happening since you woke up in the hospital."

"How did you know about the hospital?"

Silas smiled. "You'd be surprised what I know about you, Genesis. And unlike the others, I will be happy to enlighten you about some of those things. So, back to my original question I asked you a moment ago. Do you really want to know, Genesis?"

Genesis considered this. When she left the cemetery this morning, all she wanted was answers. Someone to make sense of all the things that didn't make sense. Now, she wasn't so sure. She had a feeling the answers were only going to make her more upset. So be it.

"Yes."

Silas held out his hand and said, "Let's go."

Genesis placed her hand in his. A person she knew nothing about. She suddenly felt immensely alone, a desolate emptiness spreading inside of her. Genesis recognized that feeling. Inside, she knew life had always been like this. A yearning that was never satisfied. Yes, she was afraid of knowing, but she was more afraid of not knowing who she was.

They took no more than a few steps when the air became hushed. There was a whirring sound in her ears. Her body shook, although it was minimal. Genesis had the impression of speed, but the stillness remained. She saw quick flashes of color that resembled fire except it was bright in an abnormal way. She shut her eyes for a minute because the colors hurt. The pressure built in her head. Before it could become unbearable, everything stopped.

They were on a bridge. It was enormous in size and beautiful as well. There were golden lights surrounding it, so that it shined like a beacon in the darkness. It startled Genesis that it was night. She left in the early, morning hours, and now the stars smiled down at her from the covering of the sky. Genesis wondered just how long she had wandered in that fog. It must have been hours.

Silas went over to lean on the railing, and Genesis trailed behind him. There were some cars crossing the bridge to destinations unknown. The commotion caused Genesis's hair to whip against her back. She wished Mae had given her a coat to wear. She leaned over the railing, and stared down into the water. At this point, Genesis didn't know what to say or where to begin.

Genesis reached out to finger one of the lights along the railing. It was hot to the touch.

"You realize you're different don't you, Genesis." It was a statement.

Genesis continued to trace the lights. There was a strange taste in her mouth. It tasted like metal. She knew what the emotion was, and it almost choked her. However, she would not let him see her fear.

"What am I?"

Silas turned his head towards her. "There isn't a word for what you are, Genesis."

With that statement, an unraveling took place inside her. She knew; even if she hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, she'd known it all along. From the moment she woke up

in the hospital, she sensed there was wrong inside her. It explained why things seemed so alien to her. Feelings and objects she couldn't place. People she couldn't remember. She heard the

automobiles behind her, and remembered the feeling she got when she saw one with Mae. She knew their name, but the actual sight of one threw her. The unusual reaction to food she seemed to possess. As if she couldn't get enough. Everything that made no sense in an instant made perfect sense because of what Silas just said. There are no words for what you are.

"I will be as honest as I can with you, Genesis. As I'm sure you've heard, there are some things you can't be told outright. But, I am going to tell you what Mae and Thierry won't… as well as the others."

Genesis's eyes moved over his face. "What others? There are more like you?"

"You'll meet them soon enough. Now, on to more important matters. There is no easy way to say this so I'll just come right out with it. Mae, Thierry, myself, and the others…we are not part of the living world. We are Sentinels. We are somewhere in between. We have certain gifts you might say. However, using them comes with a price."

"Sentinels," Genesis repeated as if she were trying out the word. She took in Silas's appearance. Silas, noticing her regard, explained.

"Yes, we have the same coloring. It's part of the deal. We have no identity of our own; this is what we are now. It's a constant reminder of the choice we all made."

"What choice? How did you become this way?"

Silas stared out over the water with a brooding look on his face. "All I can say about that is this, Genesis. The things we do in our lifetime, they have consequences."

Genesis turned to lean her back against the railing as she mulled this information over.

"Am I a Sentinel too?"

"No."

"Silas, why am I not frightened about what you just told me? If anything, I feel more at peace. Why is that? I should be terrified if not unbelieving. But I'm not. I feel comforted. "

"Like I said before; you're different."

Genesis wanted to know something. "What really caused me to end up in the hospital? Mae said the hospital got it wrong. Was she right?"

"I don't know what Mae told you, but whatever she said wasn't true."

Her bewilderment showed. "Mae is my best friend, or so she says. Thierry is my brother. They showed up for me when no one else did. I can trust them."

"Is that so?"

Genesis felt compelled to defend them. "Yes, that is so. How do I know I can trust you, Silas? I don't remember you anymore than I remember them."

"Well, that must mean you don't want me to tell you the rest of the answers. I mean, since you don't trust me."

Genesis rested her arm against the railing facing him. "You mean there's more?"

"More than you can imagine." He moved in close to Genesis so that their faces almost touched.

"Be careful, Genesis. Be very careful of who you trust. You are important. You are the key."

She tilted her head as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She was beginning to get cold.

"The key? What are you talking about?"

He grasped her chin in his hand forcing her to hold his gaze. "The Sentinels are desperate. They are looking for something, something of immense value. There are others looking as well. A much more sinister group. The Sentinels will do anything to prevent them from finding what they seek. They have to find it before the others do."

Genesis was riveted on Silas's face. "What others?" she whispered.

He let go of her chin. "Unfortunately, that I can't tell you."

Still she whispered. "And these…others…are they bad?"

"Yes, I would put it that way."

"Who are they?"

"Can't tell you that."

"I still don't understand. What do I have to do with any of this? I don't remember anything at all. And why wouldn't Thierry or Mae tell me what you just did?"

"The answer is simple, Genesis. They have their own agenda where you are concerned. You know what it is everyone wants; what they are searching for. The answer is buried deep inside you. You are the key," he said as if that explained it. "You don't remember for a reason. Your memory has been taken from you. You have to remember on your own as I'm sure you've been informed. Once you remember, that's when things become interesting. Because that is when you'll decide which side you will help."

"Why would I help people who are bad?"

"Who says you're good, Genesis?"

Sweat broke out on Genesis's face despite the cold. This is why she feared answers. It was because she already recognized an element within herself. There was an ugliness in her.

She could feel it as surely as she felt the night air on her face. What have I done that I can't remember? Again, she asked the question burning in her mind.

"What am I, Silas?"

Silas took her hand in his. "I told you, Genesis. There isn't a word for what you are."

FOURTEEN

Mae was pacing back and forth. She paused every few seconds to take a step near the door only to turn around and keep pacing. She stopped to look at Thierry who was sitting on the bottom stair reading a book. Its cover was creased and worn. Evidence that it had been read many times.

Mae threw her hands up as she continued to pace. When she couldn't take it any longer she blurted, "You know he's got her. There is no way she could have made it through the fog herself."

She continued to pace as she shook her head. "I knew it, Thierry. I'm telling you I knew it by the look on her face last night that she was going to try and leave. I had every intention of getting up early this morning to stop her."

Thierry flipped to the next page. "Of course you did, Mae. I could feel your concern even while your snoring almost shook the house apart."

Mae jerked her arm out pointing a finger at him. "Did I not try to leave when I heard the warning? I tried to go after her, and you stopped me!"

"Of course he stopped you. What else could he do?"

Mae jumped when she heard the voice; however, Thierry didn't even glance up from his book.

Mae moved toward the red chair which had patches of fabric missing from around the edges. From her position, all she could see were his legs stretched out in front of him. As she got closer, more of him came into view.

Kai, too, wore loose blank pants just like Thierry. On his feet, were red, scuffed Converse. A plaid shirt that was a size too big was covered by a black sweatshirt. It was covered with paint stains. Mae didn't even want to ask how he got the stains. Knowing Kai, he didn't remember anyway.

Mae was frustrated. "Kai, how many times have I told you that you can't just drop in after months of not contacting anyone? You can't show up when you feel like it. You have responsibilities to take care of. Not to mention that it's rude to avoid us," she made a sweeping motion with her hand toward Thierry.

"I know and I'm sorry," Kai said as he unfolded his legs bending forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Oh, so that fixes it then," she asked, in an over bright tone. She had a huge smile pasted on her face, but her teeth were clenched. "Did you hear that, Thierry? Kai is sorry. Well, I guess that makes everything alright. Forget the fact that I have tried numerous times to contact you. Didn't you feel your mark burning? How many hawks have you been hiding from so I couldn't see you?"

"Quite a few, Mae."

"Kai, must we go over this again. Your life is not your own anymore. Avoiding that isn't going to make it go away. You made a bargain, so honor it. Hiding for months at a time isn't going to make us go away either. You are more hopeless with every year that passes."

"I know that too, Mae. And, it gets better? Even though countless years have gone by, it never gets better. Remembering, I mean. I thought time would make remembering easier, but somehow it just makes it worse."

"Kai, if you're going to start feeling sorry for yourself," Mae began to say but was cut short.

"Leave him alone, Mae," Thierry said still reading his book.

"Leave him alone? Did you just say leave him alone, Thierry? I haven't seen him for months, and you're telling me to leave him alone! Kai doesn't know what's been going on around here. We have some serious issues to deal with, and the last thing I need to be worrying about right now is Kai. Wondering if he is alright. Wondering why he hasn't spoken to us. Right now we need to be focused on Genesis and not this pathetic thing," she said as she slapped Kai across the top of his head. He didn't blink.

Thierry closed his book with a snap. "Mae, shut your mouth." He didn't raise his voice an inch.

Mae's mouth dropped open, and Thierry reached his hand out. It was in a fist except for two fingers. He slowly brought those fingers together until they closed.

"Like this," he said as he nodded in an encouraging manner.

Mae turned red, and her jaw dropped further before she snapped her lips together.

Thierry put the book on the stairs. He leaned back on one elbow. "Kai knows about Genesis, Mae. Why do you think he is here? It isn't because he missed your charming personality."

"Ridicule me all you want, Thierry, but we are in major trouble. He knows about Genesis? Does he know what Silas just told you? Does he know who Genesis is with right now? Because you know that's who she is with. After what he told you, there is no telling what he is up to."

"Silas can't do much, Mae, even he knows that. Genesis has to remember on her own. She has to make her own choices."

"That's true, but he can sure manipulate her a little. Drop a hint here, drop one there. And what is this business about Genesis being tested? What kind of test?"

Thierry's eyes were on the empty spot where a photograph once hung.

"I didn't get all the details on that. But, I do know this- it's her choice, Mae. Silas can do his worst, but it's still her choice. He can't make her do anything she isn't willing to do. When her memory returns, she's going to have to make some decisions. Why do you think I didn't stop her when she left earlier? Because when it comes down to it, I can't. Neither can you two."

"It's true, Mae," Kai agreed.

The house was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Kai was the one to break the silence.

"Has anyone bothered to ask Silas why he didn't tell us the whole truth in first place?"

"Yes," Thierry replied. "I tried and as expected it didn't get very far."

"It just doesn't make any sense to me, Thierry. How does any of this benefit Silas? It's pointless," she asserted.

He clasped his hands together. "Look at me," he said. "I want you to brace yourselves for what I'm about to tell you."

"I think-I believe… I don't know how to say this." Thierry's uncertainty caused Mae and Kai to bend down close to him.

"I think Genesis's return has to do with them. Understand?"

"No, no, no, no, it is not possible," Mae denied, but her voice held a tremor.

"Mae, I don't know why, but I am convinced Silas is working with them. The Seekers. I believe that is why Silas decided to bring Genesis back. It's tied together. We have to figure out how."

"Dear God," Mae breathed. "That means…"

"Yes, Mae I know what it means. It means, somehow, Silas has gotten to her."

FIFTEEN

Genesis walked by Silas, trailing the path of the bridge. Genesis was still trying to absorb what Silas told her. He hadn't said a word since; opting for a heavy silence that permeated the air between them. Genesis lifted her head to look up at the sky. She had the strongest impression that someone was looking back down at her. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes, the burning sensation in each irritating her. "Come on," Silas said as he took her hand.

He began to run, and so did Genesis. With the wind cool on her face, she began to laugh. She laughed so hard her side hurt, though she couldn't deny that the pain was a pleasant kind. The kind that came with being alive. They came to a breathless, laughing stop. Silas put his arm around Genesis's shoulders. They were no longer on a bridge, instead having entered a town that was lively and quaint. She was glad to be out among people. She felt some of the weight of the last few hours begin to fade. She busied herself with watching them. How happy they seem, she thought.

"You're quiet," he said and Genesis shrugged. "I'm surprised the cavalry hasn't come to rescue you from my clutches. But, then again they wouldn't".

"I was just wondering why they haven't come to get me."

"Well, they wouldn't now would they," he said as he kicked an imaginary stone on the sidewalk.

"What do you mean?"

He took a while to respond.

"Just tell me already."

"They won't come after you. That's the bottom line. No matter how long you're gone. They realize you have to be your own person. You have to find your own life."

"Silas, is Mae my best friend? You seem to know us, and since I don't know will you tell me the truth? Are we close?"

Silas smiled. "The ever enchanting Mae. She is something isn't she? Yes, you have been friends for a long time. Best friends. I don't know how you managed to put up with her for that long."

"You don't like her do you?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"I wouldn't quite put it that way."

"But you're not friends."

"No, we are not friends."

"What about Thierry? Did I always get along with him? He seems uptight to me, although I could be wrong."

Silas response was wry. "Trust me, you're not. He has always been very protective of you. At least, he likes it to appear that way."

Genesis noticed Silas's face changed. Mentioning Thierry changed him.

"What did he do to you?"

Silas didn't pretend to not know who she was talking about. "He took everything from me. Look, Genesis, I don't want to get into that right now. Talking about it only brings up bad memories, so just leave it alone. It was a long time ago anyway. Water under the bridge, I believe is the phrase."

Genesis wasn't fooled by that remark. "It's not water under the bridge for you, Silas."

"No, not really. But, they love you Genesis. In their own way I suppose. They would do anything for you, anything at all. No matter what, despite any cost."

The words should have been reassuring, but they weren't. There was an undercurrent behind those words. So many undercurrents behind so many words.

Snow was beginning to fall. Genesis reached out to catch one of the flakes in her palm, dismayed as it began to melt into her hand. She clasped her fingers into a fist. Silas was quiet again, so Genesis turned her attention to the activity around her. Genesis saw a family crossing the street. The mother was holding the hand of a little girl who was smiling as she spoke to her. The father had his arm around a boy who was in his teens. They looked so happy, with a deep sense of peace about them. It physically hurt Genesis to look at them. She felt a tightening in her chest. Watching them made her want to cry though of course she wouldn't.

The people around her were at ease with each other. They were waving and talking, calling out greetings to obvious strangers, bumping into each other and offering apologies. Nobody seemed to mind. It was crowded so everyone seemed to understand. None of them spoke to Genesis or Silas. Genesis looked at Silas then back at the crowd. None of them touched her or Silas either. Now, Genesis was looking hard at all of them. Even when someone would come close to her, they didn't look her way. Her eyes began to search out other eyes to make contact. Not one single person paid her any attention. They veered a good distance away from her and Silas. She glanced at him. He didn't seem to notice. Genesis smirked. What Silas told her was making her mind work overtime. She was imagining things; reading too much into them. She decided to greet the next person that walked past her, but a feeling inside her stilled the notion. She was scared, and deep inside she knew the reason why. They wouldn't respond because they couldn't see her. Genesis was sure of it.

Silas draped his arm around her, and drew her closer to his side. He still kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Beginning to notice are you?" he asked. With his arm still around her shoulder he nodded his head in the direction of a random person. "They're clueless…they don't have any idea as to what is going on around them."

He turned to Genesis with a half-smile. "Or should I say, who is around them."

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You don't have a clue either, but you will soon. It's already starting to come back. You just don't realize it yet."

"Good. I'll be glad when it does. Then I can go back to being a normal person."

Silas stopped. Again, he motioned towards the crowd. "You think you're a person, Genesis?" He made a tsk sound, wagging his finger. "Come on, you know better than that. You're a smart girl."

He moved close. "If you ever need someone to talk to Genesis come to me. I'm on your side. I will never lie to you. I will be as honest with you as I can. Trust me."

With that, he backed away. Genesis realized they were no longer in the town. They were back near the cemetery. How they had gotten there so fast she wasn't sure. She knew it was the cemetery because fog was circling her ankles, and she could no longer make out her surroundings. She heard a noise that sounded like it was coming from a single source. Then, it grew louder as other seemed to join in unison. It hurt her ears and annoyed Silas.

"Mae and her hawks. She seems to favor them for some reason." He shoved his hands in his pockets. He had a habit of doing that, Genesis noted. "She knows you're here. Go on in."

Genesis looked at the fog crawling up her legs now. "I thought you said I would never be able to find my way back without one of you. Besides, I don't know if I want to go back."

"You don't have a choice," Silas said. "Anyway, you don't have anywhere else to go."

Isn't that the truth, Genesis thought.

By now the fog was up to her waist. It was thick, and she felt a choking sensation. Fighting back panic, she asked Silas, "Aren't you coming in with me?"

He lifted a shoulder. "I don't think so. You go ahead."

"How am I going to get in, Silas?" She was breathing hard now. She knew he was going to leave her there. Why hasn't Mae come out to get me?

She strained to see Silas through the white curtain enveloping her. She was gasping as the feeling became painful. Silas wasn't making a move to help her. She didn't know what to do. Her vision was getting hazy. The deafening sound of the hawks made her head pound.

In her mind came a vision. It was subtle at first- just a color. Red. A river of red. The red began to take shape. It resembled a droplet of rain, except for the color. She didn't understand at first what it was, and then it hit her. Blood. It was blood. Not just any blood; it was her blood she was seeing. Without conscious thought she lifted her hand. She dug her nail into her thumb. She didn't feel the sting of the sharpness penetrating her flesh. She watched as the whiteness of her thumb turned scarlet. Not knowing why, Genesis turned her hand upside down. It seemed an eternity passed before one drop fell to the unseen ground below. Genesis didn't notice Silas. She didn't see the glint in his eyes as he witnessed this event. She only saw the blood.

The first thing to cease was the noise replaced by utter silence. Then the fog; recoiling away, it appeared to crawl backwards. And there it was- the clearing to the cemetery. Genesis was still holding out her hand, trembling with the sudden realization that she just remembered something. She hadn't quite figured it out fully, but she remembered how to get into the cemetery. She also learned another thing, which disturbed her significantly more than the rest. Her blood had power. She laughed, but it sounded shaky.

With her hand still outstretched, she turned to Silas. "I remembered. It came to me, just like that. I remembered, Silas." She was ecstatic. It gave her hope that things were turning in her favor. It was all going to be okay. However, she should have known better.

Silas gave her a salute with two fingers. His image faded as he entered the fog once again. "You know, when you laugh like that you remind me of your sister, Genesis."

That was the last thing she heard when the ground rushed up to meet her.

SIXTEEN

Genesis could hear birds singing. A feeling of warmth touched the right side of her face, and it dawned on her that it was the sun. She yawned as she wiggled her toes. She didn't want to leave the warm comfort of her bed. She could already hear her mother moving around in the kitchen. The sound of pots told her that breakfast was not far away. Her eyes blinked open to stare up at her ceiling. She flung her arm up to shield her eyes because the light was causing them to burn. She rolled over into a sitting position. She sat that way for a moment. She then stood up as her long gown tangled around her ankles. Taking her time, she walked over to the basin to wash her face. A jug of water was already waiting for her, and it was still warm. She poured the water into the basin, cupped the water in her hands and leaned forward. She splashed her face a few times to help her wake up, to no avail. She heard raised voices coming from downstairs. Her father. Genesis patted her face dry, but avoided looking into the mirror. She didn't like mirrors. As she strained to hear the conversation, her finger traced a familiar pattern on her cheek. It was a scar. It ran down from her left temple to the corner of her mouth.

Along with the familiar pattern came a familiar taste in her mouth. Bitterness…enough to make her want to choke.

Yanking off her gown, she stalked over to get fresh clothes to wear for the day. Although her family could well afford it, Genesis didn't wear fancy clothes. She learned that it didn't do her any good anyway. It was a wasted effort. She pulled on a shirt that buttoned up the front with long loose sleeves, and a skirt that was fitted around the waist. It flared slightly when it reached her calves. She left her hair loose. It would earn her a scolding from her mother, but Genesis didn't care. It was her shield. It hung almost to her waist, and she left it unbound to hide her face.

With her head downcast, she made her way down the stairs. Her father was sitting in his favorite chair talking to some of his business friends. Her father was a brilliant businessman in both the manufacturing and trade industry. He made so much money he was able to purchase a horseless carriage, the first in their town, and a true testament to his wealth. It was a remarkable invention, the automobile, but then considering it was the early 1900's it didn't surprise Genesis very much. New ideas and discoveries were more common than ever. They still had their old, horse-drawn carriage, and Genesis preferred it much better. She loved the horses because horses didn't stare. Instead, they just accepted.

Judging by the tone of her father's voice, Genesis could tell he'd already had too much to drink. She saw the glass in his hand. She could smell the stench of alcohol. He was a loud man, and as he spoke, his drink would slosh over onto the floor.

Genesis went to clean it up, using the bottom of her skirt to mop up the liquid. Her father didn't acknowledge her, which wasn't much of a surprise. She wasn't his favorite daughter. Genesis wondered whether or not he even liked her. Her sister, on the other hand, was a different story. She was the beloved one, the talented one. Her sister could walk into a room full of strangers, and within minutes everyone would adore her. Handsome, wealthy, young men fought over her. Wherever she went she was the center of attention. Her parents couldn't do enough for her. They spent time, and large amounts of money on her without complaint. The poisonous viper. Genesis hated her with a passion.

"Genesis, would you come in here please," her mother called from the kitchen. Though they had servants, her mother liked to pretend she did everything herself. She had to make herself feel useful in some way. Genesis hovered in the doorway to watch her mother. Annabelle, or Anna she was sometimes called. Of course her brother Thierry wouldn't be here. His fights were legendary in their town. Their father wouldn't allow him back into their home. In Genesis's opinion, that made Thierry lucky. Therefore, Genesis had to stay, and be tolerated by her father-not loved. He only loved two things: money and his eldest daughter.

The other feeling she felt was revulsion because Genesis no longer wanted her father's or her mother's love. That longing died many years ago on a night when the darkness exploded with flames. If she was still, Genesis could feel the heat on her face, and smell her own hair burning.

Genesis almost died that night; the night she rescued her sister from the raging fire. Her mother infuriated her because instead of being glad her youngest daughter survived, she was horrified with the knowledge that she would have a disfigured child. Genesis believed her mother would rather her have died in that fire than be scarred for life. Genesis no longer cried anymore over people who didn't love her. They could rot for all she cared.

"Genesis, what are you doing just standing there? Come over here and help me," her mother demanded. Being the dutiful daughter she was, Genesis walked over to take a tray with assorted food out of her mother's hand.

"Go take that to your father. And, Genesis, be polite." Her mother gave her the once over while shaking her head.

"Why couldn't you have brushed your hair and put on a nice dress, Genesis? Honestly, I don't understand why you don't put more effort into your appearance. You always slouch around with that hair hanging in your face. Don't you have any pride?"

Yes I do. Which is why I will never be like you.

Without a word, Genesis turned to take the tray to her father. He was rampaging as usual about his business. His face was bright red. She brought the tray around to each of his friends offering them the food her mother made. Genesis didn't make eye contact with any of them, and none of them spoke to her.

"It's high time I move out of this place," her father roared as he took a swig of his drink. "This backward town is getting too small for me. I need to expand; broaden my business ventures. There is a lot of money to be made, and if I'm going to make a move, now is the time to do it. I also want to move out of this hovel," he said about his beautiful home fit for a king. He was sweating now, and he began to loosen his collar.

"I'm sick and tired of this place. I'm a rich man, and my home should reflect that. I can't think of one thing about this house that makes me happy, not one, gentlemen!" he raged snatching an item off of the tray in Genesis's hands.

At this, Genesis shrugged her hair off her face and over her shoulder. She glared at her father. He made her stomach turn with his greed, with the smell of his sweat.

Be polite, Genesis, her mother said. Genesis was tired of being polite.

"I can think of one thing that should make you happy, father. How about your wife who grovels at your feet?"

You shouldn't have said that. The clock taunted her with its monotonous tick tock. Her father's face went from red to white, then red again. Genesis watched his eyes go from her to his friends, and she hid a smile. He was like her mother with an image to uphold. He would never want anyone thinking his family wasn't the picture of perfection. Therefore, he wouldn't dare make a scene with them present. Instead, he chose another route.

He burst out laughing and affectionately touched Genesis's cheek. "I know that you crazy girl. I'm the luckiest man alive to have your mother." His friends joined in the laughter as the tension in the room evaporated. Her father turned to her still laughing, but she read the silent message in his eyes. You shouldn't have said that.

She placed the tray down heading for the front door. She needed air. She stepped outside, and the winter greeted her. Winter, she thought. That one word described her whole life. She never noticed how dreary it was during the day. So dark and bitterly cold. Would summer ever return?

The streets were crowded, she noticed with annoyance. Genesis never liked being around too many people. Genesis had the sudden urge to buy tea; she loved tea. There was a place on the corner that sold her favorite kind. She made her way there, anticipating the peaceful feeling she always felt while drinking tea. It always made her feel better. She wanted to be away from home as long as possible to avoid her father. Perhaps by the time she got back he would be gone. He was always away either for parties or business. Maybe she might get lucky. Her father didn't hit her, but Genesis learned that there were different types of abuse. Verbal being the worst of them. Physical wounds could heal, but verbal wounds took on a life of their own. They slithered like serpents into the subconscious mind, and made people do the one thing that could be dangerous to their sanity. Doubt. Doubt was a powerful foe. It made one question everything: their friends, their looks, their abilities, their worth. Her father was a master player at that game. He used to be able to wound Genesis with his words; cripple her with them even. But, she was catching on. Genesis wasn't knocked down so easily anymore.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice a tall figure coming towards her. The next thing Genesis knew she was pushed to the ground. She winced as she lifted one of her palms off of the rough road. It was scraped with specs of blood and dirt. She wiped it on her dress. Into her line of vision came a pair of nicely shined shoes.

"So, they let the dog out if its cage," came the smooth, accented voice of someone she once thought of as a friend.

A blast of wind kicked up dirt into Genesis's eyes. Her hands were so cold she could hardly wipe the grit out. She cursed the weather a thousand times.

Winter, she thought. That one word describes my whole life.

SEVENTEEN

There he stood in all his self-privileged glory. Anthony, the son of a rich man who had traveled from the South to meet with her father. Anthony's father was in the trade business too. Anthony was ostracized when he first came to their town because he didn't fit in with the crowd. He looked different, talked different, and acted different. That's what had drawn Genesis to him. She understood the feeling, and thought she had finally found an ally. Not to be friends, in the true sense of course, but someone who could help her get even. She had assessed him well when she met him. Although the girls her age made fun of him, she knew they secretly wanted him. He came from money and he was handsome. And although the boys her age made fun of him and his strong, southern accent, she knew they secretly envied him. They envied his money, his looks, and the power that would come his way because of the money he was born into. He seemed like the perfect accomplice.

The problem was that Anthony was weak. He still possessed that pesky desire to conform, so he began to act like them, and talk like them the best he could. He used his money to buy friendships and earn respect. After a while, people no longer laughed at his accent but found it endearing. They tried to emulate the way he dressed, and his mannerisms as well. Soon, he fit right in. So, the unsuspecting young man who had been so friendly, so open and kind, vanished,

and in his place stood the creation of what cruelty gave birth too. Genesis didn't care one bit about that. It just irked her that he couldn't be manipulated anymore.

"When are you going to learn some manners, Genesis, and speak when someone greets you?" he asked in that southern dialect of his. "I bet your parents are so proud of you. You are truly the image of grace and beauty."

The small crowd that followed him found that hilarious. Anthony was pleased with himself. One of the girls strolled up, and linked her arm with his. Adla was her name. She was attractive and charming. But, Adla's family didn't have much money, which meant she had to try even harder than the others. Genesis could sense it in the almost manic way she pandered and clung to Anthony. Genesis knew Adla didn't want to be this way, may not have chosen this path for herself, but sometimes life didn't always offer a choice.

"I love your hair, Genesis. Now, what look are you going for exactly? It is daring I must admit. But don't you think it would look better if you swept it up to show off your pretty face?" Adla taunted her.

"Yes, Adla is right, Genesis. That scar on your face is the perfect adornment for such a, how should I say this, peculiar person." The group cracked up. They patted Anthony on the back, urging him on.

"Oh, Anthony, don't be ridiculous. That scar adds character," Adla said. "All she needs is a little jewelry to compliment that delightful dress she is wearing. That is a dress, isn't it, Genesis?"

Genesis was standing with her head bent. She could feel her cheeks get warm. The taunts began to blend together, and she could no longer separate the voices. She didn't know who was saying what. Someone even dared to reach out to touch her face, and yank on her hair.

Be polite, Genesis, her mother always said. Genesis was tired of being polite.

Her eyes shot up to lock with Adla's. "You're absolutely right, Adla. Jewelry is just what I need. What kind do you think would best suit me? Oh, I know what would be perfect. How about a gold necklace? What do you think of that, Anthony? A gold necklace. You like those don't you?"

Now, Genesis turned her gaze to Anthony. She noted with satisfaction that his smile was disappearing. It was disappearing because he knew what was coming next.

"How about one to match the one you gave to my sister," Genesis said.

Adla's smile was now gone too. She yanked her arm out of Anthony's bristling with disbelief. "She's lying," was all she could manage. She fingered the gold around her own neck. The one Anthony had given to her.

"No, Adla, I'm not lying. As a matter of fact," Genesis squinted to get a closer look at Adla's neck, "that one you're wearing looks very familiar. I'm sure I've seen it somewhere before."

Adla continued to scowl at Anthony. "Did you give one of these to her sister?" she demanded.

The group continued to snicker, but now it was directed at Anthony. A tide of red swept up Anthony's neck.

"You're going to believe her?" he stammered. "Look at her. You're going to take her word over mine?"

Genesis feigned surprise. "Yes, now I remember where I saw that necklace before. It was placed inside a letter. You know, the letter you wrote to my sister."

The group roared at this revelation. Out of the corner of Genesis's eye, she saw the figure of a bystander. He was standing a short distance away, watching the scene with apparent fascination. Every now and again, from her peripheral vision, she could see him smile. He wasn't with Anthony and his followers, but by himself. She couldn't recall his name, but she had seen him before.

Genesis lost any interest in trying to recall the man's name when she caught sight of who was approaching the scene. Her sister, the miserable wretch, came breezing down the road. Genesis could hear people shouting out greetings to her, and her sister would reply with a laugh and a wave. She exchanged embraces with a few of her friends, and business owners would come out and offer her free goods which she accepted with graciousness. Genesis could taste vomit in her mouth. She didn't understand it at all. What made her sister so special, so respected? Of course, Genesis spotted her mother trailing along behind her sister. Her mother lived through her eldest daughter, and even from a distance Genesis could see the glow of excitement that lit up her mother's face at all the admiration.

In that moment, her sister glanced across the way and saw Genesis standing there. Their gazes locked for only a moment, but what was said in that moment between them spoke volumes. Her sister turned her head and continued on her way. Genesis felt her hands clench into fists.

"See, even her own family is ashamed of her. They won't even acknowledge her in public." Anthony spoke the words loud enough for those standing by to hear.

He was close enough for Genesis to see the perspiration forming on his upper lip despite the cold. She saw the loathing in his eyes as he looked down at her from his considerable height. He was mad at Genesis for making him look foolish, and he was beginning to doubt himself. She could see it; doubt the formidable foe, such a powerful weapon.

His mouth was pulled back as he almost spit the words at her. "I am willing to bet that your family wishes you were never born. Look at you, you filthy dog. Even animals take better care of themselves than you. You think you have the right to stand here and talk to me- to us!"

He pointed across the street to her sister. "Yes, I gave her the necklace. I felt sorry for her because she is related to someone as disgusting as you. That she is cursed to have to call you her sister," he shouted.

Genesis wasn't quite sure how it happened. One minute she was being sprayed by the spit coming out of Anthony's mouth, and the next minute her fist crashed into his nose. He yelped and staggered back. Genesis tackled him to the ground.

Shouts rang out around her head. Genesis didn't stop to listen, her fist continuing to pound into Anthony's face. Red started to flow, covering her knuckles. He couldn't get in one punch. She felt arms grasping her around her waist as she was lifted off the ground. As soon as her feet touched the earth again she swung and connected with a nose. She turned back to Anthony who was howling on the ground.

"Shut up," she said as she kicked him hard in the leg. "I said shut up."

With that, she flung herself back on him again. Hands were pulling at her from every direction. Genesis was dimly aware of being surprised at her own strength when her hands

wrapped around his throat. She raised her arm to hit him again, and at the same time looked up. Genesis was ensnared by a pair of dark eyes.

Her sister was looking at her-not staring but looking. No expression could be detected on her face whatsoever. Genesis didn't move, but her eyes were darting from face to face. Every expression mirrored each other, faces comically painted with both horror and disbelief. All of the faces except for her sister's. She stopped her when no one else could. So arrested she was by her sister's face, that she allowed herself to be pulled away from Anthony.

Genesis' mother was sobbing as she picked up her skirt. She began to cross over to Genesis, when her sister shot out a hand grabbing her mother around the arm. She said something Genesis couldn't hear, but it stopped her mother. Her sister turned still holding onto that arm. Her eyes never left Genesis as she began to walk away, pulling her mother with her.

Genesis was certain she lost touch with reality because her sister was moving in slow motion. There was no sound. All Genesis heard was her own labored breathing. All she could see was those eyes that still held her own. Until at last, with a small nod, her sister turned her head. Then, she was gone.

Sound came back full speed. Startled, Genesis took a few steps back. People were still yelling at her, cursing her even. A few people were throwing things at her. Genesis noted that Anthony was being picked up, and carried off by a few men. Adla was standing there with her dress clutched in her hand as tears streamed down her face.

Someone was telling people to leave; that it was over and everyone should go home. Apparently, people were listening because the crowd started to disperse.

As she was watching them leave, she happened to catch a glimpse of her reflection on the glass wall of a building. What she saw made her freeze. Long, dark hair surrounded her face. There was blood on her clothes. She lifted her hand to examine her bloody fingers. The skin was scraped off her knuckles, but she didn't feel any pain. She raised her head again to stare at the person looking back at her. She wanted to cry, but she wouldn't allow herself that luxury. Her hand rose to touch her face. Is this really me? Dear God, did I just do that? Her hand dropped down. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

A whistle jolted her back-someone was whistling. A tune she couldn't place, but whistling just the same. In the glass, he came up beside her. The one who had been watching her earlier. Genesis had forgotten all about him. Genesis didn't turn towards him, just watched him through the glass. He continued to stare down at her.

"Be sorry for nothing," he said.

"What makes you think I'm sorry?" she asked.

He didn't answer just started to whistle that tune again. She could still hear him long after he turned the corner. It hit her then, his name. Silas, yes that's it. His name is Silas.

EIGHTEEN

When Genesis returned home, she was thankful nobody was there. The last thing she wanted was a scene with her parents. She started to go up the stairs, and she rubbed her knuckles because they were beginning to ache. She brought her hand up to her mouth to blow on the open cuts, when a noise came from upstairs. Genesis paused on the stairs and raised her head. She stood a moment to determine where the sound was coming from. She heard another small sound- a giggle. It was coming from her sister's room. Genesis was as quiet as she could be as she crept

up the stairs. Her sister's door was cracked just enough for Genesis to peer inside. Her sister had a friend over. They were both trying on dresses and complimenting each other on how beautiful they looked. They were having a grand time; neither aware of her presence. She listened to find out if her sister mentioned the fight from earlier, but she never did. Genesis heard her sister's friend bragging about how one of the town's most eligible young men asked her to the theatre. Her sister loved this, and went to suggest what dress would be appropriate for her friend to wear. They chattered amicably as a tide began to build in Genesis, a wave of such hatred that her vision faltered. Genesis wanted her sister's life. She wanted to have lots of friends and admirers. She wanted to wear dresses fit for a queen. She wanted to be loved. Not for sentimental reasons, but because love meant power. When someone loved you, it gave you power over them. Genesis was done with being a helpless, obedient mat that people wiped their feet on. She wanted her sister's life, and Genesis decided in that second that she would have it, no matter the cost.

A plan took root in her mind. A devious plan. It would require help from the one friend Genesis trusted in the world, and a drunken idiot. As Genesis continued to watch the scene in front of her, she mulled over the question in her head. If her sister was disfigured, would she still be the favorite? It would serve her right. Am I really capable of harming my sister?

She saw her sister fluff her hair in the mirror, and her question was answered.

Genesis smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her sister would never see it coming.

NINETEEN

Pike knew she was waiting for him. It didn't cause him to worry. She had no choice but to wait. It was raining now in The Idyll, and he knew in a moment it would be snowing. The dead branch of a tree made him trip. The branches tried to slither around his throat and bind his wrists, but he moved with practiced speed, rolling to his feet and continuing on his way. The trees hissed as he rushed by. He knew the inhabitants inside were responding to the smell of human emotions on him. He saw arms and hands reach out to grab him as he rushed past, but one couldn't actually call them arms or hands. They were the color of ash without real shape. Just the vague outline of what was once living that remained. As he passed, they retracted inside their dwellings compromised of gnarled, decaying twigs. They twisted tighter and tighter forming shelter for those in The Idyll. Their sizes were intimidating to say the least. Some were long, flat shapes, with dried snow caked into the crevices. Others, had branches reaching high in the air that separated into different directions. They pulsated and vibrated with life; however, they weren't alive. Nothing was alive in The Idyll. It was a barren place except for the endless array of skeletal trees with their withered leaves.

Those beings that pleased Majesty; who carried out her plans with success, were given certain favors. The rewards varied. Some were given dwellings that were spacious; however, Seekers didn't care about that. What they did yearn for was the one privilege denied them- the ability to feel. As a reward, some were given a brief moment to feel. The Seekers, those who existed in The Idyll, only had feeling in that brief moment. Otherwise, they couldn't feel happiness or sadness. The only being in this place that could feel every emotion was Majesty. If a Seeker pleased her, for the briefest moment, she would allow it to feel any emotion it craved: hunger, fullness, joy, peace, and even grief. Seekers were so grateful to her for that fleeting emotion. Pike knew she didn't do it to be generous. She did it to be cruel. To tease them with what they could never have.

The fortress came into view just as the snow began to pour. The snow wasn't white. It was the color of coal. It blew in great gusts that never fell to the ground, hovering in the thick air. Pike heard the faint sound of laughter; he knew it was the wind. It was taunting him again with memories, and at times with visions from the other world. Pike couldn't remember how long he had been in The Idyll. Of course, his actual body was buried long ago in a grave he knew was never visited. It didn't matter to him.

A vicious gust kicked up the snow which streamed into a giant wave crashing into Pike. He didn't feel it. That's when he heard the scratching. The fortress was close. He managed to dodge a clawed limb reaching to grab him. There it was in plain sight. The structure was impressive.

The bottom was comprised of thick, bulging limbs that provided ample support for the foundation. The fortress itself was made of rotted wood. The thin branches writhed and coiled around one another forming the exterior. They snaked up together reaching a towering height. Clumps of twigs that were meshed together resembled decayed fingers. The scratching noise intensified as Pike approached the entrance. There were hundreds of Seekers gathered at the base of the fortress. They were scratching at the bottom limbs they could reach. But it wasn't a frantic scratching. It was lifeless. In another life, Pike might have felt pity for them, but not in this one.

Pike existed for one purpose- doing Majesty's bidding. Then, he was able to cross to the other side and join the living. He could savor the taste of food, feel pleasure at the sun shining on his face, and feel the coldness of winter's breath on the back of his neck. The downside for Pike was the fact he could only stay as long as the precious, black liquid remained in the vial that allowed him to breach the barrier between his world and the next. Majesty kept him and some of the others on a short leash. If Silas's plan worked, he would never have to return to this miserable place again. And with the way things were playing out right now, it was going to be easy.

There were Seekers who made it to the other side, but never returned. Pike had been to the other side many times. He knew the urge to stay was all consuming. Pike also knew this was an act of sheer folly. Seekers were warned by Majesty that remaining on the other side was lethal. Pike knew those Seekers met their demise.

He stood at the entrance to the fortress and waited. He waited for her to sense him; it was the only way anyone could enter the fortress. After a few seconds, a doorway started to emerge. Pike knew it was safe for him to step through. The Seekers behind him knew better than to try and follow.

As Pike entered the corridor, he didn't glance at the rows of Seekers lined on each side. They didn't glance at him either. They waited swaying back and forth. They wouldn't make a move without an order from her.

The corridor had rows with lights that didn't shine. Only a faint, grayish hue cast shadows on the rotted leaves that crunched beneath his feet. It was long, winding and turning until Pike finally reached the main room.

A lone figure sat on a wooden throne. Its branches were embellished with jewels of several colors. However, the once brilliant gems were devoid of any glamor. Majesty had put them there. She sent Seekers out into the other world to gather the prized jewels for her. She demanded they find one of every color and every make. Some Seekers never came back and others did.

Even though Majesty's blood allowed Seekers to enter the human realm, Majesty herself wasn't able to cross the barrier. She said it was her punishment. She said one day He would be sorry for doing this to her. She said one day He would pay. Her voice was filled with so much hatred when she spoke of Him. Pike was certain one day she would make good on her promise.

The Seekers who returned from one of her missions were rewarded. She would allow it to see in color, but only for a second. Then the color was gone. Majesty loved her little games.

Pike looked up at the vast ceiling which displayed the most intricate chandeliers in the world. He recalled Majesty saying they came from Europe though he couldn't quite remember. Their patterns and designs reflected wealth and genius. They were not like any of the modern chandeliers Pike saw on the other side. Majesty didn't like anything modern. She preferred things that were older.

He saw the collection of books, originals no less, stacked up high on one side of the room. Stolen- all of them. Many of them were written in different languages. Paintings worth millions in the other realm were displayed with great care. Enormous statues, coins no longer made, gowns made of the finest fabric. There were pieces of treasure stashed everywhere. Majesty was an avid collector of things.

Even though Majesty's blood allowed Seekers to enter the human realm, Majesty herself wasn't able to cross the barrier. Pike, nor any other being in The Idyll, received any pleasure from this lustrous collection. The coins lacked their golden luster, the myriad of colors were muted on the paintings. The once alabaster glow of the statues faded into nothing. In The Idyll, only one being could appreciate the valuable collection along with the beauty they possessed. But not anymore. Pike knew why this was so, but looking at the shadowy form on the throne, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do. The problem was that there was only so much he could tell her. Pike was good at twisting the truth.

As he approached, the bent head lifted. Eyes focused on him. From a distance, it seemed like she had no eyes at all, only black sockets. As he got closer, the sockets became a shape. She didn't move as he made his way to her. Long hair the color of smoke floated on unseen waves. The ribbons of her loose fitting gown stirred in a nonexistent breeze. At times her image seemed hazy, and then stark with clarity. She looked like death yet beautiful.

He didn't say a word as there was no need.

"He lied to me, Pike," she said without any emotion.

"Mistress, it is as you say. I'm so sorry," he said with false sincerity.

"He promised this would all change," she waved to the room around her.

She lifted a piece of her hair and let it trail through her fingers.

"He said I would be able to see color," she said as she flicked the strand away. "All lies."

"Mistress, may I remind you. I did try to warn you not to trust him. Even his own kind don't fully trust him. He's a Sentinel," he spat the word. "With all due respect, didn't you ever question why Silas would want to help you?"

"No, I didn't," she replied as she stroked a finger along a splintered branch where she sat. The branch hissed.

"I'm beginning to wonder, Pike, why Silas would lie to me? He told me once Majesty was gone, I would remember everything. He assured me that I would be like her; able to feel and see colors. I'm wondering, Pike, why he would do that?" she asked continuing to stroke the lone branch. She turned, locking those black sockets on Pike's face.

Pike knew that if he was in the other world, he would have been afraid. He would have every reason to be afraid, but instead Pike felt nothing.

"Silas is up to something, Mistress. Have no doubt, I will find out what it is."

Drawn by an irresistible force, Pike turned toward a small enclave in the corner of the main room. He began to clench and unclench his hands in an unconscious movement. He was trembling. A giggle worked its way up, but he stifled it with his fist. That room was the source of all the yearning in The Idyll. Pike would do anything for what was in that small enclave. Seekers would do anything for what resided in that small, black hole. Even though he couldn't see them, he knew they were there. The tiny vials that held the key to everything he wanted- they wanted. Blood. Majesty's blood- black as night. Only with those vials could a Seeker enter the other realm. The problem was that the blood didn't last very long. A Seeker had

to return to The Idyll before it ran out. Majesty warned them dire consequences would take place if that happened. Now that Majesty was gone, only Mistress could enter the blood room. That was the only thing that kept Pike, and the others Seekers in line. If Mistress didn't possess this ability, she would hold no sway over any of them.

Pike turned his head to find Mistress standing in front of him. She, too, looked in the direction of the blood room. Her head tilted at an unnatural angle while her lips spread in an eerie grin. The black eyes narrowed as she turned.

"The vials are growing short in number, Pike. Soon, there won't be any. Now that Majesty is gone, whatever will you do? You won't be able to use her blood to escape this place anymore nor will anyone else," she said with her lips still stretched into that grin.

Pike knew why she said this. Mistress was the only one in The Idyll not allowed to use the vials. She could touch the vials, just not use them. Majesty refused to let her. She did love her little games.

"I'm going to give you one vial, Pike, and then find Silas. I want to know what game he is playing. He promised once Majesty was gone I would be free. I wouldn't be bound by the rules of this place," she took a step closer.

"He said my blood would have the power. He said I could cross over at will. He said I would become flesh and blood just like her."

"Yes, that is what the Sentinel said."

Her form blurred out of shape which made her invisible for a moment. She returned and was sitting on the throne.

"Do I look like flesh and blood to you, Pike?" she asked.

Pike shook his head. Then, she started to laugh. It didn't sound like the laughter he heard from the other place. That sound had a purity to it, yet this had something else. She laughed and laughed as her mouth gaped open. It was a deep, pounding sound. She was horrible.

"I tricked her! I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think the witch would fall for it, but she did!" Her hysteria trailed off into silence.

"Well, Silas did lie to me about certain things, but at least Majesty is dead and gone. I killed her," her fingers began tracing the branches once again. She breathed the next words with venom. "Because. Of. Me."

"Mistress, that is not entirely accurate. You see, Majesty is not dead."

TWENTY

Genesis woke to an outstretched hand in her face. Why was she always passing out? More to the point, why did she keep dreaming about a red-headed girl? Silas was in this one too. Her dreams took place in the nineteen hundreds. It was so bizarre. The people in her dreams were her family. She called the red-haired girl her sister. It all felt so real, but Genesis knew that couldn't be true. She would be dead and gone if that was true. Genesis knew what the current year was.

Perhaps the girl was a Sentinel which Genesis had yet to meet. Or maybe a forgotten friend who was trying to make herself known. She dismissed it, as it was unimportant. She couldn't worry about some phantom girl and phantom family. She had other issues to deal with.

And why was she always on the ground? She ignored the hand for a moment as she tried to familiarize herself with her environment. Under her palms she felt the roughness of pavement. She was on the ground, of course she was. She blinked, focusing on the face that belonged to the hand.

Genesis grasped Mae's hand allowing herself to be pulled up. She had two things to confront Mae with, as well as her brother.

"My sister," she blurted out. "He-Silas said I have a sister!"

"Yes, that's right," Mae said.

"Yes, that's right," Genesis repeated in a disbelieving tone. "That's right you say as if it's nothing. Any particular reason this fact was not mentioned to me? Oh, wait, let me guess, I have to remember," she said. "Where is she? I want to see her now."

"I didn't want to tell you right away because you already have so much to deal with, but I'll tell you. You had a sister. She died," Mae's eyes never left her face.

"Died," Genesis said. "She's dead. You're telling me my sister is dead."

"That's right."

Genesis took a few steps absorbing this new information. Parents...dead…sister...dead. My God, what nightmare have I woken up too?

"Do you remember her at all?" Mae asked.

Genesis didn't speak as she shook her head.

"Alright, then, here it is. Your sister died a while ago. You weren't too broken up about it because you two didn't have the closest relationship.

Genesis's voice was incredulous. "What are you saying to me, Mae? I didn't care about my sister dying? What…what does that say about me?"

Mae was silent.

"Did she die with my parents?

"No," was all Mae said.

Genesis wanted to ask how her sister had died. The question was burning at the back of her throat. She could taste the words, but she didn't voice them. For some reason, the question consuming her remained unasked. "I wouldn't have told you anyway," Mae stated as if she could read her mind. Genesis scoffed at that. She wasn't surprised.

Genesis held up her thumb still streaked with her blood. "Do you know about my blood? It's how I got back. "

"I won't discuss that."

"Of course you won't."

Genesis placed her hands on her hips.

"Alright, then, back to my sister. Her name. Are you allowed at least tell me her name?"

"Her name was Lilith."

Mae touched her arm, making time stop.

TWENTY ONE

Once her vision became clear, Genesis saw she was standing in the living room of the old house in the cemetery. When she saw the figure reclining in the chair she didn't even hesitate. She strode up to him punching him in his face with all her might.

"You knew. You knew and chose to let me find out the hard way. Why didn't you tell me about our sister? Why!"

Thierry rubbed the red spot on his jaw. "I was going to tell you eventually, but I thought you've had enough shocks already. I was trying to be considerate."

Genesis rounded on Mae who huffed holding up her hand. Realizing she wouldn't get anywhere with her, she turned back to her brother.

In turning, her gaze was caught and held by someone standing by the winding staircase. Unkempt was the first word that came to her mind. He looked like he had thrown on the first items of clothing he could find and didn't care how they looked.

As her eyes traveled back up to his face, she looked into eyes as black as her own. Water. Ice cold water. Genesis couldn't see or feel anything but the water choking her. She had the sensation of struggling, but it was useless. She was weighed down. In her mind's eye she looked down to see that a heavy skirt was hindering her progress. It was the same manner of dress she had worn in her dream. A dress that belonged to a different time. She clawed through the murky depths, her lungs burning.

The vision was gone just as quickly as it had come. Her gaze roamed over the oddly dressed person who had yet to greet her. She took a step toward him when the crystal orbs changed color. The abruptness of it caused her to momentarily forget what had just transpired.

Two of the pulsating orbs began to sizzle and crackle with light. Genesis noticed the ceiling and walls radiated a multitude of colors.

Mae stepped forward. "Genesis, we'll have to deal with this later. We have to go. Kai, it's you and me."

Kai stepped away from the staircase.

Genesis watched, fascinated, as the two of them stepped up to the orbs. Mae reached out touching one of them. Genesis couldn't describe it in any other way; Mae was sucked into the light and vanished. In the next instant, the same happened to Kai.

Genesis knew her mouth was hanging open. She turned to Thierry.

"Have a seat," was all he said, beginning to read his book.

TWENTY TWO

Kai was outside a diner. He glanced around trying to get his bearings. He had to know where the portal was so he could get back. He noticed a mailbox less than an inch behind him. He also noticed the store across the street with the blinking sign. There were two words painted on the sign, but the first was the one that interested him. Liquor. He could taste the word in his mouth. He lost track of time, and realized it when his mark started to glow. Kai crossed halfway across the street unconsciously. He pressed his lips together. He turned his attention back to the diner. It was small and needed a paint job. The sign that read as open twenty four hours was only partially lit up. The whole place could use an overhaul- it looked neglected. Kai liked it.

He opened up the door with the rusty handle stepping inside. There was a musty smell that suggested mold.

He saw her sitting in the last booth in the corner. Her shoulders were hunched as she stirred her cold cup of coffee. Kai knew she didn't intend on drinking it; that's how he knew it was no longer warm. Her mind was on something else.

He walked towards her unnoticed by the other customers. He slid into the seat opposite her and leaned back against the ripped cushion of the seat. She didn't take her eyes off of her coffee.

"Meredith," was all Kai said.

Red, swollen eyes met his. She didn't look surprised; she didn't even flinch. She looked like the picture of agony.

Her eyes drifted down to her coffee. She began to stir again.

"I know what you are." Her voice was monotonous.

"No you don't, Meredith."

"Of course I do. You're the angel that's come to stop me."

Kai leaned one arm on the table. "I'm not an angel, Meredith."

She took in his appearance, his strange coloring. Or, rather, his lack of color. Her eyes crinkled just a bit.

"Well, that makes more sense. You're the other kind."

"I'm not a demon either."

"What are you then?"

"I'm here to intervene you could say."

A harsh sound met his declaration. She knew what he meant.

She looked out the window as she spoke.

"She just got her license last month. She was so excited. I can still see her huge smile when she posed for the picture. She seemed to be laughing her smile was so wide.

Kai noticed her throat convulse as she swallowed a few times. He didn't speak.

"There was a movie playing that night she wanted to see. A few of her friends wanted to go too. I admit I was nervous. It was nighttime, and she had just started driving. But, I told myself the theatre was only ten minutes away. Her friends lived in our neighborhood. What could happen in ten minutes?"

A silent tear rolled down her cheek. Kai knew she was speaking more to herself now than to him.

"I told her over and over to be careful. I told her she had to be an offensive driver because the road could be a dangerous place. People on their cell phones, kids not paying attention, the whole nine yards. She was a smart girl, a good girl. She was always careful. She picked up her friends and was about two minutes out of the neighborhood when it happened."

"If it's any comfort, Meredith, she died instantly."

Her lips drew back from her teeth as she spit out the words. "Comfort. How dare you. You think it comforts me to know my sixteen year old daughter died instantly? She shouldn't have died at all!"

Meredith's voice was heaving now with rage.

"He plowed into her, and she flew through the window. I didn't recognize her face when I saw her. Do you understand that? My daughter's face was almost peeled off, and you talk to me of comfort!"

"I didn't mean to offend you. I just wanted you to know she didn't suffer."

She screamed the words at Kai, "She's dead and she didn't suffer!"

Kai didn't worry about the volume of her voice. No one would hear her anyway. The sparse amount of customers ate their food in oblivion. She could yell all she pleased.

"A drunk driver mowed down my only daughter like an animal. He thought he ran into a tree he was so wasted. He thought it was funny. He laughed while my daughter's face lay in pieces all over the road!"

She was sobbing the words now. Her eyes had a feral gleam in them. Her sobs turned into chuckles.

"But it's going to be okay now. I'm going to fix it all. It has to be made right, don't you understand? He'll be at the courthouse today. I'm going to make everything alright."

"Let the court handle it, Meredith."

"He's dead," she said with such force that Kai could see the veins sticking out in her neck.

Kai leaned forward. "Meredith, you're going to die today."

She stood up as she spoke. "I'm dead already." She walked out of the diner heading in the direction of the courthouse.

Meredith didn't notice the weather changing. She kept Julia's image firmly in her mind. Her beautiful Julia who was now rotting in her coffin. Hate filled her, fueled her.

The courthouse came into view. Rain was now beginning to pour down. Meredith's hair was plastered to her head. She relished it. This was probably the last time she would feel rain. She climbed the steps leading to the main entrance. She knew there were armed guards there with metal detectors. She didn't worry about that because she had no intention of going through those detectors. She knew what time he would be arriving and she waited. She sat on the bench outside in the downpour. She reached into her purse to feel the reassuring metal of the gun she purchased a few days ago. Meredith knew he would be arriving with his lawyer. They let this scum out on bail. At first, his release had made her furious, but now she was glad. It made her task that much easier.

She saw the car pull up. There he was, dressed in a suit and carrying an umbrella as he darted up the steps. He didn't see Meredith, but she saw him. John Goodard, the man she was about to kill. He was fifty years old. That pissed her off. He got to live much longer than Julia. He opened the courthouse door and went inside.

Meredith got up, pulling the gun from her purse; not attempting to hide it. As long as she could take him down before the police got to her she didn't care. She moved with purpose as she cocked her gun.

Kai stood inside. His eyes tracked Meredith's progress. He looked over to his left. John Goodard was standing mere inches from him. He was talking with his lawyer.

Kai conjured up Julia's image in his mind. Her hazel eyes and chestnut hair. The smattering of freckles across her nose. The tingling began in his fingers as he felt Julia's presence. He felt the change begin to take place. He waited for Meredith.

TWENTY THREE

Meredith pulled open the glass doors and stepped inside. She shivered in the cold air conditioning. A few people stood in front of her waiting to go through the metal detectors. There were armed officers all over the place. None of them noticed the gun she carried in her hand. Not yet. Her eyes zeroed in on one person. She fingered the gold cross around her neck saying a silent prayer. God please forgive me. She started to raise the gun when a familiar scent filled the air. Lavender. The smell was strong. It caused Meredith to hesitate for a moment.

"He's already forgiven you, mama."

Meredith felt every hair raise on her body. She wanted to look but was terrified. She'd heard that voice a million times in her dreams. She also heard it in her nightmares. Maybe she was finally going crazy. She turned her head, and the gun clattered to the floor.

Julia. Her lovely, dead daughter stood in front of her. Meredith was transfixed at the sight of her. She had seen her many, many times, but of course they were visions conjured up by her mind; her longing. This was different. She didn't know why, but she knew. Julia's skin was luminous. Light spilled from every pore. She was smiling. Meredith took an involuntary step towards her. She wanted to reach out and hug her. She was scared. She was so scared she would vanish. But, she reached out anyway. Julia didn't vanish. Meredith connected with solid skin

causing a rough sound to clog her throat. She grabbed her daughter and held her. She knew her fingers were digging into her, but she couldn't stop herself. Sobs ripped her apart as Julia's familiar perfume wrapped around her. She cried and cried. She pulled back looking into that beloved face.

"My God, I miss you; every day every hour. It's endless. I can't live with it anymore, Julia. It's got to go away. Please tell me you understand. Please tell me it's okay."

Julia reached out to touch her mother's ravaged face. She wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

"It's not okay, mama. You know that." Julia touched the cross resting at her mother's throat. "This isn't you. This is hate. This is what it does."

"Yes, it is. I hate him with everything inside me. I want him to be punished; isn't that fair? He took everything from me. Yes, I hate him for it. I want to see his face when I pull the trigger. I want to see the fear in his eyes when he realizes he's going to die. I see it over and over in my mind. I want justice. Do you really think God blames me for that?"

"He doesn't blame you, mama."

A picture so sharp appeared before Meredith. The flashes so vibrant it hurt her eyes to look at it. It was a cross with a trickle of blood coursing down one side. It flashed to a hammer raised in the air, and a cracking sound as it connected with metal. Meredith reached up to grab her head when she felt a piercing against her skin. Thorns.

"He understands. This isn't about blame. It's about you finding peace. You have to forgive him."

"What! There is no way in hell I'm going to forgive. Just let it go, let him go! No way in hell is that going to happen."

"Mama," Julia murmured. "I'm not telling you to forgive him for him. I'm telling you to forgive him for you. You do it for yourself. So you can move on, so you can begin to live again."

"I don't want to live. It's too much pain."

"But that's what I mean. I don't want you to be in pain. I can see you. Did you know that? I see you so miserable and it hurts me. I want you to be happy."

"I don't know how, Julia," Meredith said as she clenched her daughter's hands. "This is the only way I know how. You were everything to me. I have nothing without you."

"Mama, death is not the end you know. I'm more alive now then I was then. It's so beautiful over there. No words can describe it. I'm not dead. I'm everywhere. I'm in the clouds. They're soft just like I imagined they would be. I can touch the sun and run on top of rainbows. I swing from the stars and then land on the moon. I can hold a lightning bolt in my hand. Can you believe that? I run through meadows with the greenest grass, but it's not the green you know. I feel love everywhere. No more tears. Never, ever a tear. I'm free."

Meredith couldn't speak. She just stared at her daughter in wonder. She could almost see exactly what Julia was talking about. Her daughter laughed spreading her arms wide.

"I'm free, mama."

Meredith found herself laughing in response to her daughter. Her joy was infectious. Meredith had forgotten what if felt like to smile.

"I'm not gone. I'm never gone. I'm right here waiting. I sit on the roof of our house sometimes singing. I know you can't hear me, but I can't help it. There is always singing over there."

Meredith wound a strand of Julia's hair around her finger. She let it slide out of her grip so that it rested back on Julia's shoulder.

"Don't be sad, mama. Years are going to pass before we meet again, and I know that's the hard part for you. You're going to miss me during those years and that's hard. But, when you feel sad, just look at the sky. I'm there in the clouds. Know I'm happy. Know I'm watching you. And on that day when it's your time, I'll be the first person you see. He told me that, and He doesn't lie. Then, we can run on the rainbows together."

Meredith was smiling so hard her lips hurt. She was still crying, but the tears were different now. She didn't remember the reason she was in the courthouse until she heard him speak. John. She had a feeling Julia deliberately wanted her to notice him.

"Don't worry about him, mama. None of us get completely away with the deeds we do in life. There are consequences; especially the taking of a life. If you don't believe anything I've told you believe this- he will pay."

Meredith was watching him. That awful, suffocating weight was lifted off her. A feeling enveloped her that she never expected to feel again. Peace. The all-consuming hatred was gone. Looking at her daughter's radiant face gave her a peace that had eluded her for so long.

"Baby, how long will his trial last? Are you able to see that? What will happen?"

Julia never took her eyes off her killer. "He will never make it to trial."

"Never make it to…what do you mean?"

For the first time since Meredith saw her, Julia's face turned somber.

"Cancer is a terrible thing."

"Are you saying that is his punishment for what he did to you?"

"Mama, there are many good people in the world. Terrible things happen to them, and no, it's not a punishment. Unfortunately, it's life. Many times bad things happen to good people. People who don't deserve to suffer."

Her eyes were fixed on the person responsible for her death. "That doesn't apply to him. However; in some cases, consequences are well deserved. For people like him, it is never, ever pleasant. He will know what it is to suffer. And John Goodard's actions have already manifested themselves in another realm. A realm that has the ability to wreak havoc over here."

Meredith's brow creased. She didn't understand her daughter's words. She was speaking about some other realm. What did she mean? Meredith was about to ask her this very question when her daughter cut her off.

"Be careful how you live your life, mama. You are one of those good people. When you do wrong, your conscious bothers you. You don't like doing wrong. Not everyone is like that."

"Julia, what are you talking about, honey. Another realm? What are you saying?"

"The things we do in life are not forgotten. They breathe."

Meredith felt a trickle of fear. She rubbed the back of her neck without realizing it.

"Breathe?"

Julia's face once again lit up. "Yes, breathe. But, you have other things to focus on. Daddy loves you. He needs you. Your friends need you. You have a lot left to do, mama."

She reached out and embraced her mother. Meredith held on tight. She kissed her daughter's cheek. It was warm.

"Remember," Julia leaned to the side to get a better view of the sky. She pointed a finger upwards giving her mother an impish grin.

"See that cloud right there? That's my spot. Great view, mama. I love you."

With those last words she was gone.

"I love you, too," Meredith whispered to the spot where Julia had stood.

Meredith walked out of the courthouse into the bright afternoon, the gun left on the floor. Her steps were light. She inhaled the crisp air. She looked up at the cloud Julia showed her. Meredith smiled.

"I love you, too, baby."

Meredith could have sworn she saw the outline of a hand waving.

Kai stood in the courthouse. Julia's presence was gone now. At times, his ability to channel the dead was a gift. Sometimes, it was a terrible reminder. Kai knew all too well the devastation alcohol could have on families. Particularly, when it resulted in death. Because Kai had been drunk the night he took a life.

TWENTY FOUR

Mae stepped through the portal and found herself inside a girl's locker room. She deduced it was a high school locker room. Mae grinned. These were always her favorites. She knew in an instant what she would be dealing with. Girl's locker rooms always meant one thing. It only took her a second to find her. The queen bee as she liked to call her. It was obvious. Her little drones swarmed around her with a mixture of two emotions Mae saw every time. Adoration and fear. Every one of them wanted to be her and vied for her attention. Yet, given the chance, every one of them would put a knife in her back. Watch her bleed to take her place. Mae smiled wider. Screwing with their minds was always fun.

She found her next target without really trying. Mae saw this scene a million times. She could predict where she would be standing. In the corner, the farthest locker away from queenie. She must have just showered because she had a ratty towel that had once been pink wrapped around her. Her long, dark hair was a curtain around her mocha skin. She stood so close to the locker. Mae knew she wanted to disappear into it without being noticed. Mae knew that wouldn't happen. It was going to start any minute now.

Mae walked closer to the locker. None of the drones saw her. She leaned against one of the metal doors just watching. She enjoyed these the most. High school drama never got old. It began to unfold in front of her.

The girl's shoulders hunched over as she reached inside the locker. Her fingers picked up the bottle, caressing it lovingly. She'd thought about this for a long time yet always found a reason to stop. Rutu was running out of reasons. She'd tried so hard to ignore them, but they were everywhere. Their taunting was relentless. The notes thrown at her during class calling her disgusting names. The hallways were the closest thing to hell Rutu could think of. She'd lost count of the bruises she'd endured from being shoved into the wall, or the faces who had thrown food at her during lunch. Her hair had been ripped out countless times by a faceless person who would run behind her and snatch her hijab off her head. Sometimes, she would find it lying burned next to her bike.

Rutu looked over at the source of her torment. Allison. Rutu didn't know why she was so popular. She wasn't a cheerleader, and wasn't involved in any kind of club. She didn't do anything of significance, yet she reigned unchallenged over the school. What a vicious ruler she was. She instigated most of the harassment towards Rutu. People followed her without question. Rutu still wasn't able to figure that out. Why did she have so much power, so much influence? Rutu was tired of trying to understand it. Rutu was tired of it all. She thought of her mother as she wrapped her hand tighter around the bottle. Her mother would be destroyed. So far, that had

been the only motivation for Rutu to keep on going. She knew it was wrong; maybe selfish even, but she was lost. Every avenue she took to get help ended in failure. The school could only do so

much. She knew that. In all fairness, they tried. They called Allison and Rutu into a meeting to try and work things out. She still saw Allison's cool gaze as it rested on the school counselor. The counselor didn't meet her eyes. Rutu knew that she too, was intimidated by Allison. As they left the office, Allison gave Rutu a look that spoke volumes. Rutu didn't challenge her again.

The bottle of pills belonged to her mother. They were for nerves. Rutu knew her mother took the pills because she worried for her. Rutu told herself she was doing her mother a favor. She wouldn't have to worry anymore. But instead of opening the lid, her hand slid off the bottle. She couldn't do it. She wasn't ready. She cursed under her breath and began to pull out her shirt.

Rutu tensed when she heard footsteps approach behind her. She knew who it was, so she didn't bother to turn. The silence stretched into tension. Rutu felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Rutu, I almost didn't recognize you with your hair loose. Have I ever told you that you have such pretty hair?" The comment received a smattering of snickers.

"Oh, my goodness, Rutu, is your habib missing again?" the girl said with false concern. The snickering turned into loud giggles.

"It's called a hijab," Rutu said.

"That's right. That's what you people wear."

Rutu remained silent.

"I know how proud you are to be one. That's why I wrote it on your locker. So everyone could see. And you think I'm not your friend, Rutu. That hurts my feelings."

Rutu saw what Allison had put on her locker. It was written with red spray paint in all capital letters. MUSLIM. She knew Allison didn't put it there herself. She always got someone else to do her dirty work.

"Did you ride your bike to school today?" She turned to the crowd behind her. "You know she rides a bike, don't you? Really, Rutu, it's time for that to change. Besides, it's ugly. "

Rutu knew what that meant. They must have done something to her bike- probably hidden it. She wouldn't find it again.

Allison reached up to touch her damp hair. She turned to the group behind her.

"I forgot to get a towel for my hair."

One of the girls made a show of looking around. She shrugged her shoulders then eyed the towel wrapped around Rutu. She had a frantic anticipation radiating from her like an animal closing in on prey. Rutu knew what was coming.

"There aren't any more towels, Allison. Rutu took that last one."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Well, go get it from her. I'm dripping here."

The wolves closed in. Rutu was not going to allow them this final humiliation. She knew they would take pictures. Maybe even shove her out in the hallway. She felt hands grab at her towel. Then, it all ceased.

Time froze. It all came to a grinding halt. For a moment, Rutu was bewildered.

To her, the room felt like it was filled with invisible water, yet she was breathing just fine. She heard her shallow breath echoing in her ears. That's when she saw the girl standing next to her. She was smiling. I'm definitely dead, Rutu thought. She knew in her bones there was

nothing human about this girl. She didn't know why; she just knew. There were only two splashes of color to her which consisted of tiny, red bows in her white hair.

The girl reached into Rutu's locker; which was still open, and flicked the bottle of pills. It was a playful gesture.

"Come on, Rutu, you don't want to do this."

Rutu stared at the small vision. She opened her mouth, but it seemed to take effort.

"What happened?" Her voice sounded so strange. Like a recording being played in slow motion. She could only come to one logical conclusion.

"It must have been something bad."

"Well, don't sound so shaken up about it," the girl laughed.

Rutu studied her. "Are you really here?" She fingered the side of her head. "Did they knock me into the locker?"

"No, they didn't," the girl said. "Not yet at least."

When Rutu didn't speak the girl rolled her eyes indicating with her hand.

"I'm here to help you, get it? My name's Mae by the way."

Rutu shook her head.

Mae muttered through her teeth." The things I go through." She got in Rutu's face.

"What do you think is happening right now?"

"I…I have no idea."

Mae snapped her fingers a few times. "Work with me, hon, work with me. It's an intervention."

Rutu looked her up and down. "Intervention…what are you?"

Mae struck a pose. "Many things, my love, many things. But, right now, what I am is your wake up call."

Rutu opened and closed her mouth. She looked back at Allison and her crew. They were frozen in the attack position. She had to be hallucinating.

Mae said, "No, you are not hallucinating."

Again, Rutu repeated herself. "Are you really here? What are you?"

"I'm going to help you," she nodded in Allison's direction. "And her in the process."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I have no choice. It's my duty you might say. That's where you and I differ. Do you mind if I give you a little advice? You know, just girl to girl."

I've lost it. Rutu was sure of it.

Mae clapped in her face. "Listen to me. You are not crazy or imagining things. I'm right here. Now, listen up."

Mae reached out poking her in the middle of her chest.

"What's the matter with you? You're a smart girl. And you let them get away with this nonsense. You cower in the corner. Why! Does that make it stop? You scurry along the hallways like a mouse. Does that make it stop? Hell no! All that does is make it worse."

Mae whipped her head to glare at Allison. "See what you made me do? You made me curse, damn it!"

Mae banged her fist into the locker and inhaled…then exhaled. As she did this, she moved her hand up and down in a soothing motion.

"Sorry," she said as she looked upwards. "Sorry," she said to Rutu. "I lost my temper; never a good thing."

Rutu glanced up at the ceiling to see who the girl was apologizing to.

"Back to what I was saying. Take just a second to look at them. Really look at them. Go on, they can't hurt you."

Rutu was so used to avoiding any eye contact with them, that as soon as she looked she lowered her eyes out of habit.

Mae nudged her chin back up. "Don't do that. Ever again."

With reluctance, Rutu gazed at the girls who were making her life pure misery. Some of the fear began to subside as she studied them. She found their expressions interesting. All of Allison's friends had similar ones, sort of frenzied. In contrast, Allison's face was calm. Her expression was clear-satisfaction. Cold, hard, satisfaction. Allison was making no move to grab the towel. She stood with her arms crossed.

"Are you beginning to see now?" Mae pointed at Allison. "That girl right there is Regina George."

"Who?"

"Don't tell me…you have never seen Mean Girls? Doesn't anybody watch the classics anymore? I can't believe this. Mean Girls is just about the most accurate movie when it comes to girl relationships. When you leave here go home and watch it."

"Why? Is it going to help me?"

"No, it's just an amazing movie," Mae laughed.

Rutu's eyes darted toward the exit sign. Maybe she could make a run for.

Mae waved her hand. "Rutu, my point is that what this group is," she pointed toward Rutu's tormentors, "are just a bunch of mean girls. That's it. They are not superhuman, they don't possess some mystical power to marvel about, and they are not invincible. Do you hear me? They. Are. Not. Invincible. When these pieces of crap graduate high school what do you think they become? Nothing. Why, you ask? Because they are nothing without each other. And you have more power than all of them combined."

Rutu's eyes went from Mae's to Allison's. Rutu did not believe that for a minute. "I don't think so."

"Of course you do. Because you know their innermost fear."

"I do?"

Mae arched a brow. "I do. I guess you could say it's a gift I have. I can see what people fear the most. It's very simple. Bullies all have the same fear. Would you like me to tell you what it is?"

Rutu nodded.

"Their biggest fear is becoming you."

Rutu felt her lips tremble. She blinked because her eyes stung.

Mae wagged a finger in her face. "No, don't cry. That was not meant as an insult."

Mae put her arm around Rutu. "See, I compare them to a beehive. Allison is the queen bee, and all her lap dogs are the drones. They work and work to please the queen. They know a slip, just one, small slip will get them kicked out of the hive. Getting kicked out of the hive means becoming you. You have to destroy the hive."

"You're saying I need to go after Allison? How do I do that? I don't have anything over her."

Mae patted her head and smiled. For some reason Rutu felt like an idiot.

"Oh no, you don't go after the queen. You'll never get to her. You go after the drones. All it takes is one- that's all. Just one and they self-destruct."

"Which one should I pick first?"

"That's what's so great. It doesn't matter just pick one."

"I can't. I don't know anything to use against them. Besides, they don't care what I say."

"You know all you need to know. You have the advantage, Rutu, because you don't have anything to lose."

"What should I say?"

"You're a smart girl. What's important to them?"

"Belonging; being a part of something." It came out more of a question than a statement.

"And if they don't belong, what happens to them? What do they become?"

Rutu's eyes got big. She was starting to understand. "A target."

"There you go," Mae said and dropped her arm from around Rutu's shoulder.

Rutu was trembling, but not from fear. It was excitement. Was this girl…Mae, was she right? Was she strong enough to pull this off?

"You are," Mae said.

"I just need to make up one good lie. That's all?" Rutu asked.

"You don't have to lie. Just…throw out a small, off-hand comment. Use whatever you can against them. Even if it's small. Be vague."

Rutu knew they loved to take pictures of people then post them online. Humiliating pictures…mean pictures. She had an idea.

Mae stepped back and nodded her head. "Ready?" she asked.

Rutu nodded back. She was ready.

Motion returned, and with it so did the grabbing hands.

"Stop," Rutu said. She didn't shout, but her voice was authoritative. It was a command. The hands dropped. She surprised them.

She turned, half stunned it worked, to look at Mae. She was gone.

The attackers stood there. They were uncertain, so of course they looked at Allison for directions.

Allison didn't look satisfied now. A spark of anger was spreading across her face.

"Who are you to tell us to stop, you freak? You're a freak, you know that, Rutu?"

One of Allison's faithful followers was getting her second wind. Her name was Cassie. She carried out most of Allison's orders. She took a step closer to Rutu. And so it shall be, Rutu thought. Cassie, today is just not going to be your day.

"I'm taking your picture, Rutu."

"Yes, Cassie, I know you like to take pictures."

"I sure do," Cassie replied with a smug grin.

"I know. You like to take pictures, and you don't care who they are of or what they are."

"Sure don't," Cassie was still advancing.

"I wonder, I really wonder Cassie if your friends here would approve of all the pictures you take. Aren't you supposed to show them all the pictures you take? But, then, you wouldn't show them these pictures, would you?"

"What are you talking about?" Cassie demanded.

"You know," Rutu said as she let her eyes run over Mia; the action was deliberate. Mia was another one of Allison's worshippers. Mia's pose went from relaxed to tense. Her eyes darted from one girl to another.

"What is she talking about, Cassie?" Mia asked clearly unsettled.

"I don't know," Cassie responded as she rubbed her palms against her legs. "She's just trying to get something started."

Rutu remained calm. "That was mean, Cassie. You shouldn't have done that."

Agitated, Cassie almost shouted, "Do what?

Mia was now scowling. "Did you take pictures of me, Cassie?

Cassie rounded on Mia. "She's lying! I didn't take any pictures."

"Really? Then why wouldn't you let me look through your phone the other day. Remember when I said I wanted see the pictures of us at the beach? You said no. Why Cassie? What didn't you want me to see!"

"If I don't want you to look through my phone that's my business. What's wrong with you today, Mia?"

"You know what, this doesn't surprise me. Lucy said you were two faced. She said I better keep an eye on my boyfriend when you're around."

Cassie's jaw dropped as her attention went to Lucy. Lucy's face was scarlet.

"Well," Lucy's tone was defensive. "You did say you could have him if you wanted him, Cassie. And you did put that note on his car. You stuck it under his wind shield wiper."

"Thanks Luce, thanks a lot. I told you not to tell her, didn't I?"

"Cassie, it is her boyfriend. You do this all the time with her boyfriends." Her face was the picture of sympathy as she spoke to Mia.

"I'm sorry, Mia, I told her not to do it."

Cassie shoved Lucy hard. "You're a damn liar, Lucy. You thought it was hilarious. You were the one that said we needed to teach Mia a lesson. You were the one that said she thought she was too good for us, and that was stupid with her father being an illegal and all. Does that ring a bell?"

"An illegal," Mia shrieked. "You said that about my father? You're one to talk Lucy. Jemma said that the whole neighborhood knows about your mother's…how I should say it…weekly indiscretions with your pool man!"

Jemma, who had been hesitant to join the fray, now had no choice but to participate.

"I didn't say that, Lucy, my mom did. I heard her on the phone. I just told Mia because I didn't know who else to talk with about it. I felt bad for you."

Lucy wasn't buying that. "You told her because you have a big mouth. You talk about everybody, Jemma, and then try to act so innocent. I want you to know I never liked you. I only talk to you because Allison said you were cool."

Everyone began shouting at once. Rutu stood watching, unaware of the grin spreading across her face. It was working, and it was easier than she'd thought. They were going after each other, becoming more vicious with every word. The only one not joining in was Allison. That was because Allison was watching Rutu. Rutu couldn't place the look on Allison's face, until, the corner of Allison's mouth turned up a bit. The look became clear. Admiration. Allison knew what Rutu was up too. Allison turned, walking away from the train wreck in front of her. She

made no effort to stop it. After a few shoves and slaps, the sobbing mess in front of Rutu began to disperse. One by one the girls fled the locker room. The only one left was Cassie. Her chest was heaving, and her skin was blotchy from crying. She looked defeated.

Rutu stepped so close to Cassie their noses almost touched. Rutu spoke, but her tone was soft. Soft, but menacing at the same time.

"You mess with me again, Cassie, I promise next time will be worse."

Cassies's sobs halted. She stared at Rutu seeing her for the first time. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. She nodded her head just once.

Rutu reached in her locker, and grabbed the bottle of pills. She slammed the door shut. She strode over to a stall dumping the contents into the water. She flushed, left the stall, tossed the empty bottle into the trashcan in the corner. She went to the mirror. She put her hijab on her head. She reached up to adjust it a bit, went to the locker room door, pulled it open and strolled out.

TWENTY FIVE

Allison was irritated. Her heels made clicking sounds as she rushed down the corridor. The bell rung which meant she was late for class. She didn't care. She leaned over the water fountain and gulped the cold water. She got her fingertips damp, pressing them against her cheeks. She had to give it to Rutu; the girl was clever, more so than Allison realized. She'd seen the look in Rutu's eyes. Rutu was on to the game; bothering her now would be a waste of time. She needed a new target and fast. It was essential for her to remain in control. Once she found that target everything would be back to normal. Cassie and the girls would come around. They would welcome it; Allison knew, because the scrutiny, the gossip would be centered on their new victim. More importantly, Allison would be untouchable again, and it had to be fast before word spread around campus. Allison shuddered at the thought of the locker room incident becoming common knowledge.

She fumbled in her purse to find her small, round mirror. She grimaced at her reflection. With haste, she straightened her hair. She applied a fresh coat of lip gloss.

She heard the humming first, then saw the source of the humming in her mirror. It was coming from behind her. Allison didn't turn, just continued to observe. She angled her compact so the view was better.

A girl was coming down the hallway, but she was walking like she was on a tightrope. She was placing one foot in front of the other, making sure the toes touched the heel. Her arms were straight out to her side, and she wobbled as she approached. Allison saw a clown do this once at the circus only the clown was up in the air. This girl was imitating that clown with perfection. She bent her knees a bit like she was trying to get her balance on the invisible rope, and then she continued to advance.

The girl's appearance was strange. No, strange was a mild word. Her skin was as if it never felt the touch of the sun. Ever. Her hair was snow. It was pulled up in a high bun. She wore a mid-thigh, frilly skirt the color of ink. The contrast against her skin was stark. Her ankle high boots were laced up in the front with small heels. She was petite; almost childlike. If Allison didn't know better, she might have mistaken her for a ghost. Allison didn't believe in ghosts. She did, however, believe in weirdos. This chick fit that description. Allison believed some people didn't fit inside the norm, and she adored those people. No one liked what these particular individuals represented. They were different. That made Allison's mission so much easier.

Now, the girl lifted one foot then began to hop on the other, arms still stretched out. Allison stuffed her mirror back inside her purse, thanking her lucky stars. It could not possibly get better than this. She didn't have to search for her victim, but instead had one practically delivered to her. Allison pasted a fake smile on her face. First, she would find out the girl's name and befriend her, make her comfortable. That would make her talk. She smoothed her skirt and pivoted.

Allison started when she noticed how close the girl was; she moved fast.

Allison opened her mouth to speak and was stopped short.

"Hello, Allison," the girl greeted her.

A sense of foreboding filled Allison. The girl's eyes locked onto hers. Allison felt the urge to run; to put as much distance as possible between them. The pounding of her heart was a throb in her ears. Her skin prickled. This was not right. The girl was not right.

The girl spoke. "If you run, I'll just catch you."

Now, Allison was scared. More than scared, she was terrified.

"You wanted to know my name, didn't you? It's Mae. And, I also think you wanted us to become friends- make me comfortable, is that right?"

Allison felt tears well up. She wanted to go home, wanted to go home more than anything in the world.

"Why, Allison?" the girl asked. "This is where you thrive. It's your domain. Why do you want to go home?" she asked.

"If we're going to be friends, you might want to start by using my name. Can you say my name, Allison?"

"Mae," she whispered.

"Good girl. I saw the little episode back there with Rutu. Nasty business. What I want to know is why her?"

Allison swallowed. Her voice crackled as she answered. "You know why."

"I do, but I want to hear you say it out loud."

One, single tear fell down her cheek. "She's a freak. She's not one of us. She puts that thing on her head. She acts like she's proud of what she is."

"What is she, Allison," Mae asked.

"Muslim," she said through gritted teeth.

Mae pointed to the cross around Allison's neck. "What are you, Allison?"

Allison was indignant. "A Christian."

"Is that so? I think, maybe, you don't understand what that means."

"It means I believe in God, that's what it means," Allison's voice was still unsteady, but now she was getting angry. "I can't stand them. They come over here demanding rights. What rights do they deserve? This is our country, our religion. Follow it or get out. Why do we feel the need to cater to them or any other beliefs for that matter?!"

"Why does God cater to you, Allison?" Mae asked.

"What do you mean?"

"When He looks at you, what do you think He sees?"

Allison flinched at this comment. Her chin came up. "But I believe."

Mae began to circle her. "That makes it okay? You're a hypocrite. You think you're so much better, yet the things you do don't reflect what you claim to believe. I'm willing to bet all your targets have one thing in common: their religion or lack of."

Allison's spine tensed.

"You're vicious, manipulative, vain, selfish and a bigot. Don't get me wrong, Allison, I'm not saying this to condemn you. I'm pointing this out because it's human nature. Humans are inclined to do ugly things, some worse than others. It doesn't matter who the person is, what walk of life they come from. Every being holds a secret that they never want discovered."

Allison registered Mae's use of the word human. It didn't frighten her, yet she knew it should.

"Are you an angel?" Allison couldn't believe she was having this conversation.

Mae's brows arched. "Do I look like an angel to you?"

"What are you?"

Mae sighed. "Always the same question. Always what instead of why. Why I'm here is to show you something about yourself. You don't hate Muslims, Hindus, whatever."

"Don't you believe in God?" Allison asked.

"Yes, I do, Allison. But you don't know Him at all. You don't have the first inkling as to who God really is."

"How can you say that?" Allison stressed. "You believe yet defend them."

"Secrets, Allison. I did mention secrets. Did I mention that I know yours?"

Allison felt the pulse ticking in her neck. This girl was lying.

The air became thick. Allison watched in fascination as a strand of Mae's hair became loose from her bun. It was long and twisting. One by one the white strands came loose. Mae's eyes disappeared into sockets. Her lips turned to ash. Allison wasn't afraid, she was entranced. She felt faint waves in the air. It made her think of being in water.

When Mae spoke, she sounded far away, but Allison understood every word.

"You're terrified, Allison, that the truth will come out. Terrified that everyone will know. You try, try so hard to stay one step ahead so the secret remains buried. You know you're your friends will do if they find out. They will turn on you, Allison. Let me show you."

Flashes of light. Then, speed. Allison had the impression of a movie being rewound at a quick pace. Blurred images raced in front of her eyes. Time screeched to a halt.

The trailer. That awful trailer. Allison was there; she would know that smell anywhere. The shabby carpet felt familiar under her toes. Allison was seven years old. The fabric of her cheap, pink nightgown itched her skin. Her head turned to the left, and she saw the hallway, and the bedroom at the end. Light shone out from under the door. She heard voices as the door opened. A man walked out putting on a jacket. Her mother propped her hip against the bedroom door. Her gown hung off one shoulder.

"See ya next time, honey," her mother called out.

Allison's mother was counting the wad of money in her hand. Allison felt like gagging.

"What are you doin out of your room!" her mother yelled as she stalked forward and squeezed Allison's arm. "Didn't I tell you I was busy?" Her mother shoved Allison into her room. "Brat, you ruin everything. You better listen to me. I have more company coming in a minute. I better not see you out of this room."

"I'm hungry, mommy," Allison said and winced. Her mother never hit her too hard, but she sure could yell. To Allison, the yelling was worse.

"Hungry? You're always hungry. Greedy, little brat. It takes money to feed you." Just at that moment there was a knock at the door.

Her mother straightened her gown. "And here it comes. Now stay in here and shut up." She closed Allison's bedroom door.

Allison curled up on the torn mattress. It was thin, but it provided some relief from the hard floor. She didn't have a blanket, so she curled into a ball. Her mother was talking to a man.

She heard her mother's bedroom door close. Allison clenched her eyes shut. From the depths of her soul came the cry. Please help me God.

What happened next was a blur: red lights, the squealing of tires, the door being kicked down. Her mother was crying; the man shouting. Allison peeked through her door and saw policemen. They were dragging her mother and the faceless man outside. One policeman was holding a bag containing white powder. Allison didn't understand why he would want white powder.

A pair of legs appeared in front of her. A hand stretched out. Allison clung to it.

The policeman squatted down in front of her. "It's going to be okay now." The man had a friendly face. They left the trailer. Allison never went back.

Time fast forwarded to when Allison was ten. She was adopted by a wonderful couple. Her adoptive father was a pediatrician, and her mother ran a computer company. They were wealthy, and bought Allison anything she wanted. More than that, they loved her. They gave her a life she never thought possible. Allison was no longer made fun of or spit on because of her real mother. Now, she had friends and went to parties. Her clothes didn't smell. Her new parents bought her a huge, canopy bed.

At night Allison would lay in that fluffy bed staring at the silver cross hanging on her wall. She knew God heard her that night; the night she called out to Him. She knew He sent that policeman to her door. He saved her, and Allison would never, ever forget that.

Fast forward, and Allison was in ninth grade. She had so many friends. She was so happy. She told no one she was adopted. Allison was sitting at lunch when one of her friends pointed to a girl sitting alone. Allison looked over at the source of the conversation feeling that old, gagging sensation. The girl was dirty. Allison was certain she smelled dirty. She hunched over her food, cramming it in as fast as she could. Allison knew that girl-it was her a few years ago. Allison knew those fingers would be pointed at her if it weren't for divine intervention. Allison decided she would never be pointed at again.

Mae's ghastly face appeared in front of her. Allison was in present time; in the high school corridor.

Mae's voice floated over Allison. "Let me show you."

Allison was walking, and the hallway was crowded. The bell must have rung. Heads turned in her direction, and she heard whispering; awful whispering that hinted a conspiracy was at work. She noticed her friends, people she thought were her friends, snickering as she passed. Everyone looked at their phones. When they did, the laughter increased. Fingers pointed, and goose bumps broke out on Allison's flesh. Her phone went off. Every instinct she possessed went into overdrive. Don't look, a voice told her. She had no choice. She clicked on the message button. Her eyes were glued to the screen.

Your mother is a whore.

Allison wanted to move her feet, but they were heavy. Her phone started to beep and beep and beep. Message after message popped up. Vile messages, insinuating disgusting things. Allison tasted metal. Somehow, everyone knew; they found out. She was not the person she pretended to be. She wasn't clean. The stain of her mother would taint her as long as she lived. Allison knew in the core of her being that she would find no reprieve.

Cramming her phone in her bag, she kept moving. The hallway seemed to stretch for miles. She burst through the exit door running. Her lungs burned. She didn't realize she was crying. She lived a short distance from school, and her house appeared in her line of vision. She tripped up the front steps, went inside, locking herself in her room. She sat on her bed heaving. She clasped her hands between her knees to stop them from shaking. With a will of their own, her eyes centered on her laptop. Her fist pressed against her trembling mouth. Allison didn't want to look. It reminded her of the accident she saw last year when a truck slammed into a motorcycle. A blanket covered the still form on the road. Allison had wanted to look away, but she couldn't. A curiosity refused to let her turn away from the sight of death.

Her legs were unsteady when she stood. She sat in her wooden chair for a second, then reached with a quick movement to open the laptop. There was a website created by some kids at her school. No one knew about the website except the students. Allison's fingers felt like lead as she entered her password.

About two minutes later, Allison leaned over, and vomited in her pink trashcan. It was said that a person could discover any information using social media. It was true. How the pictures were found Allison would never know, but there they were in full, blazing life in front of her: the trailer, her mother, and a picture of a young Allison barefoot in that itchy, faded nightgown. The comments were endless. She scrolled down, down, but still they continued. Allison didn't realize the people she called friends, people she trusted could be so cruel. Allison sat on her bed. When the morning light cast its faint glow, still she sat.

Allison pulled on her clothes. She had twenty minutes to get to school. She knew the only thing worse than going to school was not going. Her parents were gone to work. For the first time, she was glad she missed them telling her goodbye.

Making it down the sidewalk took effort. The closer she got the worse she felt. Finally, she arrived. Students were milling around outside. Allison went unnoticed. She entered the school. Her shoulders were tense. Not one student acknowledged her. She began the hike to her locker. There were conversations going on, but it didn't seem directed towards her. Allison began to relax. Maybe this isn't going to be so bad. She felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Her feet faltered.

That awful word was sprawled across her locker in red. It was just a word; five letters, but the word stabbed her as real as any blade. Flashes went off. Students were taking pictures. Of her. Some shouted liar, and some shouted things far worse. Allison ran into the bathroom hiding inside the stall. She rested her forehead against the graffiti laden door. The bell rang. That meant the hallways would be clear. She opened the lock with the intention of leaving, but four figures blocked her path.

One of the girls spoke. Allison recognized the tone because she had used it a hundred times.

"Allison, I didn't know your mother was so pretty. Your real mother that is. And you never told us about her. What kind of work does she do?" That question received a round of giggles.

Allison thought of Rutu. She thought of her face that day in the bathroom. The utter hopelessness that was her expression.

She felt her first pang of regret. She felt her actions were justified; she was defending God. He had reached into her depths of despair pulling her free. All of that misery, fear, filth, and hunger were no more. Thankful didn't begin to describe what Allison felt. Allison felt she had a mission. She defended her defender-wasn't that right?

"No, it's not right, Allison."

Mae was standing beside her.

Allison reached out and clutched Mae's shoulders. "Thank God, oh thank God, you're here. Make it stop. Please make it stop. I'm begging you Mae." Her voice was full of pleading.

"Why should I?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're self-righteous, Allison."

"No, no, Mae, I'm sorry."

"Why? Because your friends don't like you anymore. Because life is rough for you right now."

"It hurts."

"Of course it does."

"Why are you doing this to me!" she screamed with desperation.

"I'm showing you, Allison. This is your worst fear come to life. I can see it, just like I can see theirs," she pointed toward the girls who stood rigid. "It's my gift. I call it a gift because once you face your fear it loses its power."

"Please, Mae. I just want everything to go back to the way it was."

Mae shook her head. "Then you still don't understand."

"I do. I really do. Please give me a chance," she begged.

"You're greedy, do you realize that Allison? Believe me, I know greed. You want to have it all: perfect life, perfect friends, perfect family, and perfect faith. But it's all based on lies. You use God as an excuse, you know that? You use Him to justify your behavior.

I understand you better than you think," Mae said as she stroked the odd looking mark on her neck.

Of all the people in the world to come walking in the door, it had to be her. Rutu. She didn't glance their way as she went to the sink. She turned on the water to lather her hands.

Allison understood- a brilliant, perfect understanding. She didn't want anything to go back to the way it was. It was all so clear. That trailer, her mother- it was all a part of her. She was manipulative and cruel as well. She was a liar. Allison accepted it… faced it.

She turned to Mae. "Don't change it, Mae. Let them know, let them all know. I don't want them to forget one thing."

"Are you ready?" Mae asked.

Allison nodded.

With the speed of a locomotive, action returned. The name calling began. Rutu turned from the sink when she heard the commotion.

"Hey, now," she said. "Why don't you just leave her alone?" Rutu went to stand in front of Allison. "You don't need to say those things to her."

In that moment, Allison understood God more than ever. This girl, whom she antagonized relentlessly, mercilessly, was now intervening on her behalf.

"Are you talking to me? You've got some nerve. You're nothing but a freak," one of the girls snarled.

Rutu went to speak, but Allison stopped her. "Who are you to judge her?" Her voice was firm. The next part came out soft. "And more importantly, who am I for that matter?" Allison lifted her chin.

"This may be a waste of time, but I'm gonna try to help you. It may come across as brutal, but the truth hurts. Nobody really likes you. You don't really like each other. You're pathetic in a sad way because you can't do anything without approval.

You're trapped in this seething mass of claws and teeth fighting for survival. You're not popular, you're imprisoned. One day high school will be over; it's inevitable. When that day comes, and the real world is a reality, that's when you'll know. The realization will be hard. Everyone you called a loser will flourish. They will move on and make something of themselves. High school will be a distant memory. But not for you. Your minds will walk these halls the rest of your lives. This is where you mattered. These halls are where your glory days were alive and well. That's the saddest part of all. I see it clearly. You'll wake up in some small apartment, no texts, no calls, and look in the mirror. You'll look in the mirror and have no idea who is looking back at you."

The nameless girl swallowed. Her throat was dry. She fingered her necklace with a nervous gesture. She gave a small laugh. "Yeah, right." She backed up two steps and paused. Three steps later she was gone.

Rutu nodded her head in approval. "Not bad."

Allison tapped her on the arm. "Let's get out of here."

They walked into the chaos of the hallway. Allison beside Rutu; her demeanor confident. As soon as heads turned her way to make a hateful comment, Allison pointed a stern figure at them.

"Be quiet, Rodney. Don't say one word. Coach would be amazed to know what you've taken to get so big. Protein shakes my ass."

"And you, shut your face, Jay. All A's, really? You were held back three times! Ms. Parks must be wondering where her answer sheets keep disappearing too."

One by one, mouths fell silent. Heads turned back toward their lockers.

Rutu and Allison made their way into the courtyard. They headed to a nearby bench and sat down. It was cool against the backs of their legs. Both of them sat in silence staring straight ahead. The afternoon sun was warm on their faces. They burst out laughing, the sound ringing in the emptiness of the courtyard.

TWENTY SIX

Genesis was still in shock from seeing Kai and Mae vanish into the seething orbs of light. They were sucked inside and had vanished. Gone. Just gone. Genesis knew her jaw was hanging.

"Did I just see that? I know I saw that. What happened?" Her glance skewed to Thierry. "I'm speaking to you. Where did they go?"

"Servitude," he said, like that explained it all.

"Elaborate."

"Sentinels exist for a purpose. A life of service among other things."

"Such as," Genesis prompted.

"Things you would rather not know about."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Not today," he dismissed her assertion.

She didn't speak for a while. She decided to tell Thierry what she found out.

"I discovered something today. Besides the fact that I had a sister."

"Such as."

"There is something wrong with my blood."

Thierry picked up the book he had been reading. "That's an interesting conclusion."

"I thought so. It's how I found my way back to the house through the fog."

"I know."

Genesis rushed forward, slapping the book out of Thierry's hand. It flew across the room. "Explain now!" She pounded her fist on the arm rest of the chair. She was breathing against his face.

Thierry rested his head against the top of the chair. "When we were younger, we were more alike than you think."

Never moving from his face, Genesis said, "What a comfort."

"I didn't say it was a good thing. I embarrassed mother with my behavior. Always fighting and for money to make it worse."

Genesis didn't interrupt. She wanted him to talk.

"I wanted to punish her more than father."

"Why?" she asked

"Pretense is a terrible thing."

"I wish I could remember her."

"I loathed her, so did you. She knew, yet pretended. I know you don't remember now, but you were aware at the time."

Again, she thought of the dream. She was involved in a fight, and the girl with the red hair was there. So was a woman she called mother. It was like she knew them. Of course, that was nonsense. That wasn't her mother in her dream or her father. Her dreams were about a time that passed years and years ago.

"It wasn't a dream, Genesis. It's beginning to come back to you…slowly…but it's coming."

Genesis furrowed her brow. "What are you saying, Thierry?"

"It happened is what I'm saying."

"That's impossible," she snapped. "Impossible. That dream took place ages ago. What you're saying is impossible. Don't be stupid, Thierry."

Even as she said it, Genesis questioned what she thought to be true. She thought of the clothing she wore in the dream. How different things seemed. She had the distinct impression of time. That dream was from a time that existed long ago.

"Decades ago," Thierry said.

"This is ridiculous," Genesis was agitated. "Do you hear what you're saying, Thierry? Decades ago? We would both be decayed corpses in our graves."

"We're not alive, Genesis. Surely, you've worked that out by now."

There are no words for what you are. Silas's words raced back to her. Thierry stood up and she retreated. Genesis held up her hand in front of her as if she could ward off the horror of that declaration.

"You're crazy," she stammered. "All of you. This…this is insane."

Thierry didn't blink. "It's true. You know it, Genesis."

Her hand was still up. "Crazy…you are all out of your minds."

"I know it's frightening, Genesis. Try to focus on the positive. At least your memory is coming back."

Her hands came up to her mouth. "Positive," she breathed. "You tell me I'm dead, but I should stay positive. That the dreams I'm having, dreams from years ago, are memories of my life. That I lived decades ago! Are you really telling me this, Thierry?"

"I never said you were dead. Well, not outright."

"Then what are you saying!" She rushed him, clamping her hand around his throat. She shoved him into the wall.

"I'm not dead- not alive. What are you saying to me, Thierry!"

Thierry pulled Genesis's hand off his throat. The look in his eyes made Genesis want to heave. Pity. She hated pity.

Thierry smoothed back her hair. "There isn't a word for what you are, Genesis."

Her mind couldn't take anymore. Genesis was certain it was going to crack into pieces. She turned and fled. Thierry watched her flight; heard her feet pounding in the upstairs hallway. Then, the slam of the door.

"That went well."

Thierry hadn't noticed Mae and Kai's return. He had been so intent on his exchange with his sister.

Thierry rubbed his throat which was throbbing. "Be quiet, Mae."

Kai walked over to the couch and sat with his back towards them. He shied away from contact at times.

"How did it go?" Thierry asked.

"Success on both counts," Mae responded.

"That's good to hear. Since the last intervention didn't go so well," Thierry remarked.

"You were in charge of that intervention, Thierry. Need I say more? And Silas, well, we won't talk about that one. Kai is like me. We have natural charm. Isn't that right, Kai," Mae asked.

Kai shrugged one shoulder.

"Back to Gen, why is she upset?"

"That's a rather unnecessary question, don't you think? She knows there is something different about her blood. She said that's how she found her way back here. And I'm sure finding out she's dead and lived years ago might have had a little to do with it."

Mae glanced up towards the second story of the house. "It's going to start happening fast now, isn't it, Thierry? Her memory; it's going to return fast. "

"Yes, I believe so."

Without turning, Kai asked, "Have you seen Silas?"

"Not recently," Thierry said.

"I'm going to find him," Mae declared.

"No you're not," Kai countered.

"Kai, please don't argue with me. And you could turn around to face us, you're being rude," Mae scolded.

Kai ignored her.

"I don't care what either of you say. Silas is one of us. He has responsibilities. If neither of you will make him accountable, I will," Mae said. "He's a Sentinel for heaven's sake. He is the one who convinced us to bring Genesis back. He is the one who assured us she would be…normal. He is the one who chose not to tell us everything involving her return. He can't just meander around as he pleases. He needs to help fix this."

"Mae, I don't think Silas is meandering around. I think Silas is very busy. What concerns me," he confessed, "is what he is busy doing."

TWENTY SEVEN

It was snowing in The Idyll when Pike left the fortress. The black flakes scattered leaves in every direction. Of course, Pike didn't see the black. Instead, he felt it. Mistress wanted him to find Silas. He had to cross into the other realm. Being a Seeker, that was his mission. Go to the other side and retrieve. He had been Majesty's favorite Seeker, his missions always successful. Most of the jewels that adorned the throne were his doing and he always returned unlike other Seekers. That's why Pike remembered more than the other Seekers. He was higher functioning.

He clutched the ivy encrusted vial in his hand. Enclosed was the precious, dark liquid. He opened it, brought it to his mouth and tapped it. A tiny drop fell into Pike's mouth. He pictured Silas, concentrated on him. When the next burst of wind ripped through The Idyll, Pike was no longer there.

As usual, pain ripped through his body when it took form. It wasn't from the transition into flesh and bone, but rather the rush of emotions hitting him at once. Every cell pulsated with the powerful surge. Pike relished it. This alone was the single reason he followed every one of Majesty's orders, and Mistress's for that matter. For this privilege, he and every other Seeker would do anything.

The cold air was exhilarating. Pike loved the cold. Loved. The joy at that emotion almost crippled him. Once he was calm, he needed to figure out where he was. He discovered he was in a darkened room sitting in a cushioned seat. A huge screen covered the wall space in front of him. It was a movie theatre. Movie theatres amazed Pike.

Silas sat in the seat next to him. His foot was propped up on the seat in front of him. He was absorbed in the movie. He didn't notice Pike at first. Pike cleared his throat with a deliberate purpose, and Silas turned towards him. No greeting at all.

Deciding he should get right to the point, Pike said, "She wants to see you."

"I'm busy," Silas remarked.

"She knows about Majesty."

"Good. That's part of the plan."

"Silas, she wants to know why she hasn't changed. Why she isn't like Majesty. You told her with Majesty gone, she would replace her."

"It was a lie."

Pike chuckled. The sound was high and childlike. "I know that, but she wants to know why you lied to her."

"Good. That's part of the plan too. I'm not going to admit I lied. I'm going to pretend to be just as surprised as she is."

Pike studied Silas. He didn't know if Silas could be trusted. He assured Pike that if his plan was successful, Pike would be rewarded. Pike wasn't so sure. It was possible that Silas was just using him for his convenience.

"Yes, I'm using you, but would you relax? I won't forget your loyalty. I told you that already."

"Yes, yes you did," Pike cackled as he hunched his shoulders. He rocked back and forth, murmuring to himself. His body shook with small bursts of laughter.

"Stop that or I'm moving. You look like an idiot."

Pike steadied himself. "You're the only one who can see me."

"I know, and it's pissing me off. Stop, or I'm sitting over there," Silas gestured across the row.

Pike nodded.

Silas squinted at him. "Were you this nuts when you were alive?"

"Almost," he said, rolling around in his seat laughing.

"I'm moving," Silas started to get up.

Pike grabbed him. "I'll stop, I'll stop. I'm sorry."

Silas sat back down.

"Let's get this over with," Silas demanded.

Pike looked around the theatre. "Here?" he asked.

"Why not here. It won't take long. Besides, I want to see the end of this movie. Let's go."

Pike took the vial around his neck and tipped it. A drop of liquid fell onto Pike's finger. He lifted his hand drawing an invisible line in the air. The blood would breach the divide.

The air began to crack into pieces, resembling a broken mirror with pieces falling away in chunks. The sound was that of footsteps crunching on glass. Piece after piece fell to reveal a wall. Only it wasn't a real wall, just a thin barrier between worlds. Silas could see straight to the other side.

There it was in all its gloom and despair. The Idyll. It was more of a psychological occurrence. He didn't possess the ability to cross over fully…yet.

She was the first thing he saw. She was sitting on the jeweled throne. Her head was bent. She reminded Silas of a delicate rose battered by the wind. The petals once proud now stooped in defeat.

Sensing a disturbance in the air, the head lifted and turned. Silas blinked, and the figure was pressed against the invisible divide, inches from him. Her arms stretched up over her head with fingers like talons. Her head tilted as her forehead pressed against the unseen shield. In spite of himself, Silas cringed a little. She was the most horrifying, lovely vision to behold. Her voice when she spoke was chilling.

"Liar," she said. The condemnation was low when it was spoken.

Silas was still sitting in his seat.

"Is that any way to greet a friend?"

"You lied to me," she said

"No, I didn't," Silas contradicted.

"You did. You said when she was gone I would be just like her. Look at me. I am nothing like her. Why does she still live?"

Pike spoke up. "I informed him of this, Mistress."

"He did," Silas confirmed. "And let me say, I am just as shocked as you. I don't understand what went wrong. I would never lie to you. Why would I? We both want the same thing."

Leaning to the side, she watched him. "Do we?" she asked.

"Of course."

Swaying to the other side, she said, "Which is?"

"For Majesty to die, among other things," Silas said.

"For me to take her place."

"Yes, but that can't happen while she is still alive."

"She isn't supposed to be."

"Unfortunately, that's true. As distressing as that is, we can't do anything about that. Now, we have to rethink our current situation. You'll be pleased to know I have an idea."

Her arms came to rest at her sides. Her chin came down to rest on her chest. The black eyes bore into him. They appeared large in the dark sockets.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"I've learned some useful information. The Sentinels have a girl-Genesis is her name. She is the solution to our problem. She is very important to them and to us as well."

"Genesis. Why did you refer to her as our solution? Who is she?"

"She knows something," Silas replied.

"Such as?"

Pike interjected. "Things you can't imagine, Mistress."

Without moving her head, her eyes traveled to rest on Pike.

"I wasn't speaking to you."

The emotion rushed over Pike. Fear. A strange taste filled his mouth. In The Idyll, that emotion eluded him, but not here. Here, he saw Mistress differently. He nodded his head up and down in agreement with her, the action betraying his nervousness. He began to twitch and shifted his feet murmuring to himself.

Silence. The silence made Pike look over at Silas. Silas was turned straight ahead, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line.

"Man," he said. "What did I tell you about doing that?"

"Sorry, sorry," Pike apologized.

Silas rolled his head back on his neck to gaze at the ceiling. He cursed.

"As I was saying," he continued. "The girl, Genesis, she is the key. The Sentinels- she will be their undoing. It's a matter of time."

"You're a Sentinel," she said.

"Yes."

"Shouldn't that concern you?"

"Not in the least."

"Why?"

"I know a secret," Silas confessed.

"You do?"

"I do. In the end, we will both get what we want. It's all under control. Mae, Thierry, they will try to keep Genesis from me. You see, they found out I haven't been entirely truthful with them. They won't trust Genesis with me. "

"What about Majesty? Why hasn't she shown herself? Where is she?"

"I don't know the answer to that, but I'm not worried. Genesis will take care of her. Once Genesis finds her, she will kill her," Silas assured with complete conviction.

"That girl…she has the power to kill Majesty?"

"She is the only one who can kill her."

"You said that when Majesty crossed over it would kill her."

Silas lied. "I was wrong."

Pike held up his hand in an appeasing gesture. "Mistress, if I may. I have seen the girl, and Silas speaks the truth."

"I'm telling you," Silas was irritated now. "Genesis will kill her. Take my word for it."

"You're certain?"

"She won't be able to help herself."

The black eyes dropped as she turned. "If you say so."

The air began to crack as it pieced itself back together. Chunks began to meld like pieces of a puzzle. The air stretched and bent, then snapped into place. Only the theatre remained.

The smell of popcorn wafted by which made Pike inhale deeply. He forgot everything else. Mistress, Silas, everything. He smacked his lips together.

"Just go get some," Silas told him.

Pike jumped up. A couple sat right behind him. He reached over and snatched a handful of popcorn. As expected, the couple didn't react well to that. Pike didn't care as he stuffed the buttery kernels into his mouth. He closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Silas propped his foot back up, focusing his attention on the giant screen in front of him. For the next hour, the movie was all that mattered.

TWENTY EIGTH

Genesis was curled up in the corner of her room. The incident downstairs replayed in her mind. She wanted to remember. She was concentrating so hard, yet it all eluded her. She banged the palms of her hands against her head.

What Thierry said couldn't be true. It couldn't possibly be true. Things like this weren't real. How could she still exist? How did any of them still exist? Apparently, Silas lived when she did too. He was in one of her dreams, well, her memories she now knew. Genesis didn't believe, couldn't believe, this was happening. Sentinels. How did they become Sentinels, and why wasn't she one as well? She had a sister, Lilith, whom she seemingly disliked. Her family life was less than satisfying from what she saw, and she was somewhat of an outcast.

She needed air. It was freezing. Genesis didn't like the cold. She rested her arms on the railing, feeling the tension begin to subside. My view is a graveyard, she thought. Her eyes strayed over to the stones and giant crypts. They all look so old, she mused. The stones were weathered by the elements and faded from time. It was obvious no visitors came here. She mentally shook herself from her thoughts. Her gaze never wavered from the graves. Genesis noted that no names marked them. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Her head turned to the left when she heard a rustling sound. It was just the tossing of tree branches. Under one of the trees, Genesis spotted a single grave, isolated from the others. She walked to the side of the balcony to get a better look. Something was carved on this stone. She tried her best to see, but the grave was too far from her line of vision.

Genesis decided to try and make out one letter at a time. About two minutes passed before she recognized the first letter. Her eyes then moved to the second letter. It was no longer difficult to see the name. Once she saw the name, Genesis saw little else. The letters lifted off the grave, drifting towards her. Genesis could do nothing but stand there with her heart pounding. Her body was seized by violent tremors. The letters blurred then came into sharp focus right in front of her face.

The name was now visible. Genesis felt compelled to say it out loud. When she did, it was almost inaudible.

"Thomas."

Genesis was yanked up off her feet hurtling backwards. Fast, she was going so fast. On and on she went. Genesis was aware of activity around her, but she couldn't identify what it was. There were just blurs of colors and sounds. The pressure was unbearable. The loud whirring sound hurt her ears. She wanted to lift her hands to cover her ears, but her speed prevented that

from being possible. Her body flipped. She couldn't control that either. She wasn't able to keep track of time. She didn't know if an hour had passed or two. Just before it felt like her head would explode, it blessedly stopped.

She was hanging in the air and then she fell. She landed on her face with a thud. She winced as she tried to move her legs. Her knees stung, but at least nothing was broken. She sat up, her movements careful. She rolled into a sitting position, rubbing the back of her neck.

It was at that moment Genesis saw her attire. It was that plain, old dress she wore in her dream. The change in her surroundings was drastic. An automobile rambled down the road. Not a horseless carriage anymore but an automobile. Genesis knew where she was. She had been pulled back through time. This experience would be different thanks to Thierry. He explained to her these occurrences weren't dreams but that they were memories. Genesis didn't understand how this was possible, but she welcomed it anyway.

Genesis wasn't human. She couldn't deny it any longer. With the acknowledgment came peace. Her fear dissipated with the revelation that the answers were within her grasp. She wanted to know who she was- what she was. With that goal in mind, she stood. Genesis was convinced the purpose of this was knowledge. She was supposed to learn something. Not certain where she was headed, she decided to walk forward.

It was nighttime. Few people roamed outside at this hour. Shouts drew her attention. She headed towards the road to her right then peered down the deserted path. Only one light shone among the shadowed buildings. The muffled sound of cheering reverberated in the air. Her steps were silent as she approached. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach. Another round of cheering shattered the quiet of the night. Her feet were leaden as she reached her destination.

A man was standing in front of the door, guarding it. Genesis thought of excuses she could use to get inside. She greeted him but received no response. She tried again and did not receive even a glance. He can't see me, she thought. She passed by him, opening the door. The room was empty, but Genesis heard commotion coming from the back. She turned down the closest hallway. There was a single door at the end. A sensation rushed over Genesis: it was familiarity. She knew this door, and knew she wasn't going to like what existed on the other side. The door opened without Genesis touching it; her hands were still clenched.

She saw backs. A sea of backs. She also saw arms raised in the air, clutching fistfuls of money. Some of the arms waved, some pumped up and down. The jumping was accompanied with cheering. Those who weren't cheering were yelling, faces contorted with anger, while some were shoving.

Genesis was curious to see what was causing all the ruckus. Her view was obstructed by the tall men, so she moved around to find a spot. There was a small break in the circle, and Genesis stepped into it, immediately wishing she hadn't.

Thierry. It was Thierry along with another young man around his age. Both were covered in blood. Thierry's lip was busted, and the other participant's eye was swollen shut. Genesis felt bile rise in her throat. They were circling each other again. Someone coughed, causing Thierry to stop. He turned towards a man standing and smoking a cigar. Genesis hadn't seen him before, but now she did. Thomas. The name belonged to the man she knew to be her father. Genesis pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. He stood there watching his son bleed, and appeared to be enjoying it.

A silent message passed between Thierry and her father. Thierry lunged at his opponent, tackling him to the ground. His fist smashed down. His knuckles became coated in blood. The crowd roared. Thierry stopped when the young man lost consciousness. He looked over at his father. Thomas shook his head. It was indiscernible to the crowd. Thierry saw it, and his shoulders tensed. He continued to punch until he was pulled off.

Thomas bellowed, "First one down. Two more and the money is mine. Give me a condition."

A voice yelled, "He has to break something this time."

"You heard him," Thomas said to his son.

Genesis's eyes burned with tears. Thierry, she called to him in her mind. Her chest ached as the next opponent sauntered into the circle. He was huge. At least three feet taller than Thierry. The crowd went wild. The bell rang. The big man rushed toward Thierry. Thierry brought up his leg, knee bent to ram it into the man's stomach. He doubled over, and Thierry smashed his knee into the man's nose. Blood gushed as the bone was broken.

Men started patting Genesis's father on the back.

Fury, so fierce it bordered on pain, shook Genesis out of her stupor. She wanted more than anything to be present in the physical sense so she could help Thierry. The next instant, an arm bumped into her. She felt it. The man next to her said, "Watch where you're going," nudging her out of the way.

The man saw her, spoke to her. Genesis felt flesh and bone merge. She was here. Her body was here. She ran, fixated on one person. He saw her a second before she was on him. Genesis crashed her hand against her father's face. He reeled backwards from the force of her blow.

His face turned purple as the veins in his neck bulged. "You ugly dog," he shouted at Genesis. "You filthy dog! How dare you!"

Genesis didn't mind the insult. She wanted him to come at her. She braced herself for his attack.

It didn't come. Instead, he looked from Genesis to Thierry. A look came over his face. Genesis saw that the look in his eyes was pure evil. He addressed the crowd.

"In case you didn't know, this, unfortunately, is my daughter. An embarrassment to the entire family. But now, I'm going to give her the chance to redeem herself."

Her father's eyes were cold. Genesis knew he was seething.

"I have a proposition for you all. I think it will be very interesting, something new. She's not a lady, and she likes to fight," he said, pointing to Genesis.

"How about this, gentlemen. We have a new match with my daughter." He paused for impact. "Against him," he motioned to Thierry.

Genesis had never heard such a bloodthirsty cry in her life. The men were howling in delight at the idea.

This is my father. This is what I come from.

"No," was all Thierry said.

Thomas glared at his only son. "She still lives with me unlike you. I can make her life misery. It will be your fault, Thierry."

Thierry's hair was covering his eyes. Genesis's chest ached. Thierry wouldn't hurt her. She knew that. She also knew he would be consumed with guilt at the thought of Genesis at their father's mercy. He would never forgive himself. Genesis was certain.

There was only one way Genesis could help him. Without reluctance, she marched up to Thierry and slapped him across the face. He didn't flinch. Genesis felt tears well up but blinked them away. She hit him again. The crowd began taunting Thierry. They wanted to see brother and sister go at each other. Genesis would grant them their wish for Thierry's sake. She raised her hand again to strike.

"Enough." The voice carried over the crowd. It was low, but spoken with an authority that silenced the chanting onlookers.

There she stood. Impeccably dressed in the latest fashion. Her sister she now knew. Lilith, who was not a dream, but a memory.

Thomas stumbled in his haste to reach her.

"Lilith, my dear, what are you doing here? This is no place for you," he sputtered. "You should be at home. Why don't you go home? You could keep your mother company," he pleaded.

Lilith didn't speak. Thomas wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"By the way, you look stunning tonight. Isn't my daughter beautiful?" he asked the crowd.

The men began murmuring compliments, their demeanor now polite and respectful. Lilith leaned over close to her father's ear. Genesis saw her lips moving. Her father was nodding his head like a puppet.

He rested his hand on Lilith's shoulder. "I'm afraid the evening has come to an end. Lilith would like me to accompany her home. You understand," he said.

The men began to disband. A few came up to converse with Thomas. For the first time since she arrived, Lilith looked at Genesis.

Hate, pure hatred flooded Genesis. This girl, her sister, Genesis hated her. She saw Lilith's eyes roam over her dress, her hair and back to her face.

"You should clean yourself up, Genesis" Lilith stated. "Have some pride."

Genesis felt her lips stretch upwards in a semblance of a smile. "Bitch."

With pleasure, Genesis saw her insult hit home. Lilith flushed, and switched her attention to her brother.

"Go on, Thierry, get out of here. Hurry up," she nodded towards the door.

A couple of admirers approached Lilith. Genesis knew they were flattering her. Her sister batted her eyes, giving them a coy smile. Genesis heard one of them complimenting her hair. She wanted to rip every strand out of its confinement. Lilith had her father in the palm of her hand. He catered to her every whim. Enough. That's all Lilith said and her father listened, as did everyone else.

Genesis was remembering her sister. She was having flashes of life with Lilith. She was smart and witty. Genesis saw her as she entertained at their home. Lilith enthralled everyone with her charm. She commanded the entire room.

In contrast, Genesis was either restricted to the kitchen or circulating with silver platters to serve the guests. Never once did her parents introduce her as their daughter at these gatherings. They never even acknowledged her. That was not the case with Lilith.

Genesis saw her clearly. Lilith could sing and play musical instruments. She had talent. Genesis had to give her that. Everyone wanted to be around Lilith. Genesis wanted to kill Lilith.

Her father put his arm around Lilith's shoulder, ushering her to the door. Lilith walked out in front of her father. Coward.

Flashes were firing through Genesis's mind. She knew she was reliving an event from her life. She was here, but not here, though it felt tangible. This particular flash was very revealing. Her father was a sadist. He used Thierry for money in a despicable way. More importantly, Genesis had wanted her sister dead.

Thierry was the only one left. Genesis wanted to say something, but he wouldn't understand. This Thierry was from another life-another time. She bowed her head searching for the right words. She didn't have to think hard.

"Genesis." Her head lifted when he spoke her name. "Wake up."

With that single command, Genesis felt it again; a force that wrapped around her stomach, snatching her off her feet. This time, Genesis pitched forward. She closed her eyes against the vivid colors as the sounds rose to a crescendo. The quaking intensified to the point Genesis was certain her limbs would be rendered apart.

Just like before, it stopped. Genesis hung suspended. Then, the falling started. It began so fast Genesis didn't have time to shield her face from impact. A scream was welling up inside her.

Genesis awoke jerking upright. Her head twisted from side to side. She was back in present time.

Thierry. Her poor brother. A fresh tide of anger rose in Genesis. How could their father do such a thing? She recalled his face when he watched Thierry fight. He didn't care about Thierry's pain. He thrived on it. He was sick. Genesis didn't care how her father had treated her;

she handled it well. But, to treat Thierry in that manner? Her father was a pig. Both his son and daughter could die, and he wouldn't shed a tear.

Lilith was a different story. His beloved Lilith. When Genesis first discovered she had a sister, and that she was dead, she was upset. Thinking about it now made Genesis feel warm all over. Genesis didn't know how her had sister died. She hoped it was painful.

There was a knock on her door. Thierry came into her room.

"You know, don't you?" Genesis stated.

"Yes," he said.

"Were you really there?"

"Yes and no."

"You wanted me to see what happened to you, Thierry."

Thierry shook his head, "No, I have no control over your mind, Genesis.

She didn't want Thierry to hear the pity in her voice. "Thomas was a horrible man."

"Yes, but he didn't pretend otherwise."

"You despise him, right?"

"No. He didn't try to conceal what he did. His associates were aware of his nature. They didn't protest because they admired his wealth and connections. They enjoyed it too. All of them- corrupt. But they didn't hide it."

"How can you say that, Thierry? They're monsters."

"I told you before; pretense is what's terrible."

He's said that before in reference to our mother.

"Yes, that's who I'm referring too."

"Why?"

"She knew, Genesis. She knew everything her husband did, yet she did nothing to prevent it from happening. She knew what he was capable of, and you should have seen the way she looked at me. When she was with her friends, she would look at me in total disgust. I would hear her say, "That's not my son anymore." She called me a disgrace to the family. She told them my bruises were a result of my involvement in criminal activities. Once, I begged her for food. She said I should steal it like I steal everything else. Do you know one of the women with her offered me money, and she stopped her? Told her not to waste her money on the likes of me. She knew I never stole anything in my life. I wasn't a criminal. She covered for her husband. Not for a noble reason like love. She loved the lifestyle he provided. I didn't see her for a while after that. Father kept me locked up. He didn't want the regular folks to start asking questions. He saved me for his business partners as their entertainment.

Genesis hated to think of what Thierry had suffered.

"There was no way for you to escape?"

"I could have escaped on many occasions."

"Why didn't you?"

He didn't answer, nor could he meet her eyes. Genesis felt her throat tighten.

The repulsion was evident in her voice. "It was because of me, wasn't it?"

Thierry didn't hesitate. "I would do it again."

"Thierry."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Father didn't love you, Genesis. However, you gained something from him I never could. Admiration. Not respect, but admiration. Like him, you didn't have a problem breaking a few noses. No girl or boy stood a chance against you, Genesis."

It dawned on Genesis what Thierry was implying. The implication was worse than she could fathom.

"He was going to use me instead of you. You willingly took my place. I'm right, aren't

I?"

"I love you," came the simple reply.

"I'm so sorry, Thierry," her voice was thick with emotion.

"I love you," he repeated.

"But they only loved her."

"Lilith?"

"Yes, Lilith," the name left an acid taste in her mouth. "I saw it, Thierry, I saw everything. The way she stood with her arrogance. She reeked of arrogance. The men there fell at her feet. Why does she have that effect on people? I'll admit she's beautiful, but there are many beautiful girls. Flashes came to me. They were very quick, but in all of them…Lilith. Always Lilith."

Genesis began to imitate the people from her memory: "Lilith, your hair is lovely today, Lilith, you play music so well, Lilith, I love your dress, Lilith, Lilith, Lilith!" she spit out her name. She made a fist and punched it into the palm of her other hand.

"Careful, Genesis. That sounds a lot like envy."

Genesis turned. "Envy," Genesis couldn't believe him. "I would rather be stinking in the ground than be like her."

"Do you know why you hate her so much, Genesis?"

"Of course." Her response was instant. " She…well you know…she just…it's just…everything about her!"

Genesis couldn't pinpoint one reason that stood out. At least, not for her to feel such hatred. Maybe because her parents loved Lilith and not her.

"Did they?" Thierry asked.

"Are you blind, Thierry? You saw the same things I did. She behaved as if she owned the whole town."

Thierry laughed a little. "She did."

"Did you love her?" Genesis wanted to know.

"Yes."

"What! You can't be serious. "

"The fight you saw. Father never used me again in that way."

"And you think it's because of Lilith?" she asked.

"I know it's because of Lilith."

Genesis had to give it to her sister. "You too. She got to you too."

"Genesis, you've only had a couple of flashbacks."

"That's all I need. I may not comprehend it all yet, but there has to be a reason for the way I feel. It's hate without a doubt. I'm telling you, Thierry, it's going to come back to me soon."

"You're probably right."

Genesis was drained. The anger was gone.

"Thierry, when it all comes back, I'll understand what's going on here?"

"I hope so, Genesis."

Genesis laid back in the bed.

"I'm not going to fight the truth anymore, Thierry. Fighting it won't do me any good. It is what it is. Resisting will only make remembering harder. I don't want that. Whatever my life was, I'll face it."

Thierry must have decided their conversation was over because he went to leave. As he opened the door he said, "You haven't changed, Genesis."

"You would know. Isn't that a good thing?"

"No," he said, leaving the room.

TWENTY NINE

The hawk perched on top of a crumbling rock. If it could speak, it could tell secrets spanning decades. The area was now deserted. If one listened closely, the echoes of forgotten melodies still clung to this barren wasteland. The only thing still standing as a testament that life existed here were the remains of a grand carnival. This place, once teeming with life, families, games, and merriment, was now nothing but a sad memory. The Ferris wheel, a vision to behold in its glory days, no longer turned. It's only protest to its current condition was the clanking of a broken hinge swaying back and forth. The swing where hundreds of children raced to see who could swing the highest now hung in tattered pieces. The painted ponies on the merry-go-round were faded, but their smiles remained as if they were eagerly awaiting the chance to spin again. The game stands myriad of colors were now the same color: whitewash gray with roofs that lay in ruins.

It was an eerie sight to behold. A place where hundreds had flocked was now a grim reminder of what happens to things left behind. Small houses used to be prominent in this area. They were demolished years ago. Most people didn't know this place still existed. It was a remote area in Farris Town. Miles and miles away from the hub of life.

Mae chose this area for that reason. It would be right under her nose, and that was another reason. She would never suspect they would bury the body here. Seekers had searched numerous spots all over the world, and had come up empty handed.

The hawk's beaded eyes scanned the area with intense concentration. It could detect no disturbance. No Seeker had been here. The hawk stretched its wings taking flight. It circled where the body lay invisible to the naked eye. Mae relocated the burial site from the original one. The hawk circled once more and determined the area clear. No ripples, no shocks in the air, no stench. Its mission complete, the hawk headed back to the cemetery where Mae was waiting. Mae would be pleased with the news, since she was the only one who knew where the body's location truly was.

The closer the hawk got to the cemetery, the easier it was for Mae to read its thoughts. The hawk swooped down as soon as it spotted Mae standing on the front steps, perching on her arm. Mae stroked its feathers with affection.

"You did well, my friend. Thank you." Mae sighed as she scratched the hawks head. "I guess I needed some reassurance that the Seekers weren't getting close."

The hawk jumped to sit on her shoulder as Mae clasped her hands together. "It's imperative that Silas never discover the burial site. I'm convinced he doesn't know where it is."

"At least not yet," Kai said coming up behind Mae. The hawk leapt from her shoulder and flew away.

"In light of recent events, I hope he never finds it."

"Maybe there won't be a need for him to find it."

"It's possible Silas can still be trusted. Maybe Thierry is wrong about him," Mae said.

"Only time will tell."

"I know Silas is difficult. He's always been defiant, but he is still one of us. If Silas is involved in something nefarious, why is he being allowed to continue?"

"He's being allowed to choose. Haven't you learned anything in all the time that's passed since you died? It all about the choice. A choice can change a series of events."

"I realize that, but all of this could be stopped like this," Mae snapped her fingers. "Everything fixed. Why is his behavior tolerated?"

"Technically, Silas hasn't violated the terms of being a Sentinel," Kai said.

"Technically? Kai, he pushes and pushes. It reeks of pride. He's issuing a challenge and you know it! You know what he told Thierry."

"What if he is," Kai said.

"What if he…did you just say that," Mae yelled. "What if he is you say. Sure, no big deal. What's wrong with you, Kai! You don't challenge Him!"

Kai took a step back. "Why are you so loud? I'm right here."

Mae jerked Kai close to her by grabbing the front of his shirt. She gave him a good shake. "Kai, you don't seem to understand the severity of the situation. We have no idea what is going on. I still love him too, but we have to put that aside. Whatever Silas is up to, it cannot be allowed to continue."

"Silas can do nothing without Genesis."

"I don't want him to influence her," Mae said with desperation.

"He can't, Mae. It's not Silas, its Genesis. It's up to her now."

"Deep down, Genesis is good. I know it. I believe in it because I can't face the alternative."

"You might have to, Mae."

"I can't kill her again, Kai," Mae sobbed. "I can't do it. The only reason I had the resolve to do it last time was because that creature wasn't Genesis anymore. I wanted to save her." Mae wiped her eyes, speaking in a rush. "But, we have her now, Kai. We have her, and if we keep her close maybe it will all be alright."

"Genesis has to save herself, Mae."

"Silas!" Mae screeched as she stomped her foot. "If he would stay out of it Gen will have a chance."

"Do you want my opinion, Mae? Do you want me to tell you what I really believe Silas is doing? You aren't going to like it, but I think it's the truth. Like you, I wanted to give Silas the benefit of the doubt. I don't think we have that luxury anymore. I think I've figured out his plan, Mae. I think it's worse than we could have imagined."

Mae didn't know she was holding her breath until her lungs protested. Kai never talked this much. She was lucky if she got him to string two words together. The second thing that struck her was his fear. Kai was afraid.

Mae heard fear in her voice as well when she asked the inevitable. "What, Kai? What do you think Silas is planning?"

"I think Silas has declared war."

"War," Mae whispered. "War on us?"

"Not on us, Mae. On God. And he's using Genesis to do it."

THIRTY

Fourteen year old Genesis sat on the floor with a collection of small rocks in her hand. She was drawing pictures on the wooden planks to pass the time while her mother and sister went in to the visit the ribbon maker. Lilith needed new ribbons for her hair. She was going to a party that evening, so she needed a new one to match her new dress. Genesis looked in through the window at the sea of ribbons on display in the packed room. There was a bright, red ribbon that Genesis wanted, but her mother never offered to buy any for her. Genesis decided that she didn't care. The ribbons were ugly anyway. She watched as her mother fussed over Lilith, noticing how much fun they seemed to have together. Genesis remembered a time when she had fun with her mother as well. That was before the fire: the fire that changed everything for Genesis.

Genesis started to draw a picture of a tree by scraping the rock against the wood of the floor when a shadow blocked out the rays of the sun. Genesis turned to see a young girl, about thirteen or fourteen, observing her drawing. Genesis had seen the girl around a few times. She was not from here. She reminded Genesis of the porcelain China doll her father brought Lilith back from one of his business trips.

"Are you going to give me a rock or not?" She held out her hand.

Genesis gave her one of the tiny rocks, and the girl sat down beside her. She began to draw a flower.

"Where are you from?" Genesis asked.

"Does it matter?"

"No," Genesis replied. Even though Genesis was young, she was old enough to know the girl was not from America yet her English was perfect with no trace of an accent.

As if the girl could read her mind she said, "My mother would only allow me to speak English because she knew one day we would come here. Where we lived, there was an American family. My mother did the cleaning for them. Mother said they helped her learn English, and she studied without my father knowing. He died when I was little so I don't remember him, but she said he was not a nice man."

"What's your name?"

"Mae. See that lady over there?" She pointed across the street. "That's my mother with my new father."

Genesis followed Mae's pointed finger to see a woman standing beside a man in the middle of a conversation. She was beautiful with just a hint of cream to her complexion. Her hair was the color of midnight. She was dressed perfectly, her hair pulled up in the style Genesis saw many of the women in town copy. Genesis could tell by her dress and manner that they had an abundance of money like her family. Genesis turned her attention back to the girl drawing beside her. She wore a fine dress as well. Her hair was pulled up by pink ribbons, not a strand out of place. Genesis pushed her tangled hair out of her face as she smoothed her faded dress with one

hand. At fourteen, Genesis's appearance still mattered to her, as well as the opinions of others. Soon, there would come a time when neither would matter.

"What happened to your face?" Mae asked.

Genesis touched the wound that was beginning to heal. It itched and she wanted to scratch it, but she knew that would only make it worse. She picked up the rock to begin drawing again.

"There was a fire," was the all information she gave.

"Huh," Mae replied as if it weren't an issue.

That made Genesis relax. Most people never asked about her face. Instead, they opted for stares and whispers. It didn't seem to bother Mae at all. She didn't ask Genesis about it anymore either.

Instead she asked, "Where is your mother?"

Genesis nodded to the window where her mother was talking to a friend standing nearby.

"That's her?"

"Yes, and that's my sister, Lilith."

"Your sister is pretty," Mae remarked.

"Yes, she is."

"You could be pretty too, you know."

Genesis shook her head.

"You could. If you combed your hair, pulled it out of your face maybe, and put on a pretty dress."

Genesis hung her head even more. "If I pull my hair back then people will see my face better."

Mae laughed. "Silly girl, that's the point.

At this, Genesis turned. "I don't understand."

"What's your name by the way?"

"Genesis."

"Alright, Genesis. You have to learn to use your face to help you. If that happened to me, I would use it to make everyone feel sorry for me. I would make my parents feel so sorry for me they would buy me anything I wanted. I would dress so nice, smile, be friendly, and people would go out of their way to help what they believed was a poor, unfortunate girl. Don't you know pity makes people do things?"

"I don't want pity."

"Idiot."

Genesis eyed the girl in awe. She'd never met anyone like her before. Genesis decided she liked her.

With a rueful twist of her lips, she said, "Thank you, Mae, but I don't think it would work."

"Yes it would. You see my new father over there? Why do you think he is my new father?"

Genesis could think of only one logical answer. "Because your mother wanted to marry him?"

"Wrong. She didn't want to marry him. I wanted her to marry him, and he did as well. He fell in love with my mother's beauty, not with her. My mother knows this. That's why she refused his offer at first. But, I begged her, I begged her over and over until she couldn't refuse."

"Why would you do that if she didn't want to marry him?

For the first time since meeting her, Mae's attitude turned cold. Her eyes were flat as she spoke.

"My mother almost worked herself to death. Her hands used to bleed from scrubbing the Americans' floors. All day she worked. She came home so tired she would cry- just sit and cry. I can still see her. She didn't make much money, and the Americans were rich. That's where my mother met him- her new husband. He was visiting when he saw her. That's when he began courting her. My mother was embarrassed for him to see where we lived. It was more of a hole in the wall. It had a roof and not much more. He didn't care."

"When you met him, did you like him?"

"I knew he was rich and American. It didn't matter if I liked him." Listening to her, Mae seemed much older to Genesis. Genesis didn't know anyone their age that spoke the way Mae did.

"Mae, I don't think that's a good thing."

"It's not?" Mae continued to draw. "Look at us now. He buys us everything we want. We live in a huge house. We go to lots of parties. My mother doesn't have to work anymore. He does act strange and isn't handsome, but that doesn't matter. It's all perfect."

Genesis didn't comment.

"And my new father is not so bad. He has a terrible name, though. He hates it."

Smiling, Genesis wanted to know. "What's his name?"

"Bartholomew," Mae burst out laughing. So did Genesis.

"He won't let anyone call him that. We have to call him by his nick name which isn't much better." Mae made a funny face.

"It has to be," Genesis said. "It can't be worse."

"Oh, it is. It's Pike."

THIRTY ONE

Pike was headed down a busy street. His hand clutched the vial around his neck. Pike was getting anxious because the liquid in the vile was getting low. It was cold. His fingers stung from its bite. He breathed in the air that smelled so clean. The cold always made it seem that way. He scanned the area, looking for an alley. He needed to slip into a shadow very fast, and he needed to be out of public view. He reached an intersection which cost him precious time as he had to wait for the traffic to pass. The signal flashed to walk, and Pike darted across the street. He recognized the street he was on. Majesty had sent him here before. He knew an alley was coming up. Pike heaved a sigh of relief, slowing down. There was no need to hurry now.

A flash of movement caught his eye. It caught his eye because of the color, the stark sheen of white. Not the usual white. This had a uniqueness to it because it was not of this world.

He saw her first. She was down on one knee so she was eye level with the little boy she was talking to. Pike was immobile. The one Sentinel he feared the most. The only one who held any sway over him: Mae. He knew he should move, but his feet refused to obey. Pike knew she was intervening with the boy. He could tell by the intensity in which she spoke, and the intensity in which he listened. Pike never longed for The Idyll except in this moment. There he couldn't remember. Yuri. The name still stung.

The second her name entered his mind, she turned along with the little boy. Mae got to her feet. Her eyes were wide in her small face. Mae never managed to find Pike. The one and only time she found him was at that hospital with Genesis. Lucky for him, Mae's love for Genesis was stronger than her hatred for him. Otherwise, the encounter would not have gone well for him.

She blinked like she was trying to clear her vision. Pike didn't fade away. Pike was aware the minute Mae realized he was real. That it wasn't her imagination tricking her again. Her hand reached out to tousle the little boy's hair. She placed her hand on his shoulder to nudge him away from her. The child took two steps back, and then left. Pike saw the boy glance back for one last glimpse of Mae. She was no longer visible to him.

Mae moved. Pike watched her foot leave the ground; move ahead of her, then land on the pavement. He was a distance away from her, but that footstep thundered through the cement like a deafening crash of lightening.

He was being strangled. His hand went to his throat. Her movements were slow. She wasn't trying to hurry. He could feel the word vibrate in the air. He could practically taste it. Suffer. Mae wanted him to suffer, and she wanted him to suffer by her hands.

Her face changed. Spider webs crawled across her face as her eyes went black. Her hair began to weave out one strand at a time. It twisted longer and longer, undulating like snakes. Mae's mouth stretched open into a roar as she thrust her arms forward. Her hair followed the path of her arms so all Pike could see were her black eyes. The blast knocked him off his feet. He landed hard. His hands covered his ears to stop the horrible sound. He felt a trickle down the side of his face and realized it was blood. That's when the world went strange.

The air changed. Pike saw it move. He felt cocooned by its thick texture. Pike's feet slipped out from underneath him as he tried to propel his body backwards. When his feet finally found traction, he leapt up. His legs felt like lead, and that amplified his fear. He felt around his neck. He was almost out of liquid. He had to make it back soon.

He spotted a long shadow cast by a blue and white building on the corner. It wasn't exactly hidden, but Pike didn't have much time. The street crammed with cars separated Pike from his destination. He had no option but to get to that building. The cars couldn't kill him anyway. He stumbled out into the street, and lost his balance. He struggled to get upright, and was struck by an oncoming car. Pike lost control of his body as he was thrown on top of the car, rolled down its back, then landed on the pavement once more. Pike didn't bother trying to get up again. He threw himself forward on his hands using the balls of his feet to keep moving. It was an awkward crawl. Pike's eyes were fixated on the shadow. It was within reach. He was almost there, just a few seconds more. He would make it. He dove into a roll. A shrill, sharp sound of mirth was ripped from Pike. He was going to make it. Mae wasn't going to catch him.

Pike managed to get one hand in the shadow and then the other. He had to get his whole body in before he could dissolve. Pike felt a jerk so forceful it caused his head to snap back on his neck. He noticed he now had an extraordinary view of the sky. His back was bent at an uncomfortable angle, and his feet dangled. He yanked his head from right to left looking for Mae. He saw nothing. He relaxed until he noticed he was in midair. He was miles up off the ground. Pike shrieked as he began to jerk his arms and legs in a flying motion. He didn't get anywhere.

Pike felt a soft touch on the side of his face. He wiped at his cheek. He felt another caress and then another. He assumed it was a feather because it was light and gentle. Pike moved, trying to see what it was. There was white coming up from under him. He saw hair. It was all over him. It was touching his skin, crawling up his arms. Pike felt breath on the back of his neck. A scream lodged in his throat.

It was her. He knew it. She was underneath him. He felt himself turning; the strands of hair were like bands around his body. It was pulling him, turning him sideways. He closed his eyes because he knew what was coming. One more tug, then Pike was turned upside down. Her breath was icy on his face. He didn't want to see her. He refused to open his eyes.

"Coward." The word came out as a hiss.

She couldn't kill him. What she could do was much worse. He knew what she was doing. He could feel the slight probes in his mind. She was searching for her weapon. It was impossible to hide it from her. His fears, the fears he kept locked in his mind. Mae would find them, and she would use them.

Pike felt himself begin to fall down a tunnel which was nothing but a plume of smoke, the kind present after a horrendous fire. He peered down but couldn't see the bottom. Pike grimaced as he hit something solid. He coughed, his lungs on fire from the smoke. It was dark. Pike pushed himself up into a sitting position. The first thing to hit him was the smell. He would never forget that smell. It permeated his skin, and wherever he managed to go, the smell never left. He knew with a certainty where he was.

The closet from his nightmares. It was miniscule, with barely any space to move. This was where it all had started. Pike hated closed in spaces because of this closet. He hated them with a passion. He resented his mother for dying while giving birth to him, and he resented his father even more when he took his own life from grief years later. Pike was eight years old. With both his parents dead, Pike was left with his only relative. It was a fate worse than death. Pike could hear his footsteps. He could hear the floor boards creak as he got closer. He felt with every fiber of his being the long pause as someone stood at the closet door. Pike knew this was intentional, because this thing that paraded as a human being was a monster at heart.

The closet door opened, and he stood there. Pike only saw his outline yet he immediately knew who it was. His brother; who was seven years older than Pike, loomed over him, outlined by the soft light filtering through the door.

Pike closed his eyes, and started to chant in his mind. It was the same phrase over and over. It's not real. You know it's not real. He opened his eyes, and still his brother stood before him. Panicked, Pike said it out loud as if that would give the statement more power. It didn't.

"Stop it, Mae," Pike's teeth were clenched as he spoke.

She didn't answer, and he didn't think she would. Pike wasn't above begging.

"Mae, please," he said again.

Pike felt the rough wood of the wall against his back. He didn't notice he was moving backwards. His brother had a bag in his hand. He untied it without a hurry. His brother made a show of looking into the bag. The contents of Pike's stomach were filling his throat. He knew what the bag contained. His stomach heaved when the tremors began.

"I thought you might be hungry," his brother spoke while reaching into the bag.

Pike said the only word his lips could form. No.

His brother flung an object onto the floor. The smell, that terrible, awful smell Pike would never forget. The smell that followed him when he was alive.

It was Pike's cat. The only friend Pike had in the world was lying dead at his feet. Pike loved that cat. His brother knew it. The scant amount of times his brother appeared to have a conscience, he would let the cat into the closet with Pike. That was the only company Pike would have in days. Pike came to the conclusion that his brother didn't do this because of compassion. He wanted Pike to love it so he could take it away. Just like Pike took their mother away when she died giving him life.

"Not hungry?" his brother asked. "Then you keep him as a reminder. Every time you look at him, you'll know what it feels like to have something you love taken away from you."

Pike began to scream. The walls closed in, suffocating him. He had to get out. Pike banged on the walls with all his might. Over and over until his knuckles bruised. Pike fell onto his back as darkness set in.

When Pike woke up, he'd lost track of time. He didn't know how long he was locked inside his dungeon. Time had no meaning. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into days. Pike was having trouble breathing. It felt like bricks were stacked on his chest. The heat was stifling, and Pike was covered in sweat. The walls floated in and out of focus. Pike didn't dare look at his dead cat. Pain ripped through him. Unable to stop himself, he stroked the soft fur. The cat's limbs were rigid. Pike didn't touch him again.

At some point, his brother opened the door, tossing in a piece of bread. Time went by, and now Pike sat hunched in the corner. He was rocking back and forth mumbling to himself. In

some part of his mind, Pike accepted he was going crazy. He found that funny, and he laughed. The sound was distorted like that of a small child's.

The rain came. Pike knew this when he heard the scratching. The rats always came with the rain. One or two would find a way inside. Their long tails would brush against Pike's legs. If they were hungry, they would bite Pike. At first, he swatted them away. Eventually, he didn't bother at all. They always left sooner or later.

One day, the door opened. His brother just watched him. He turned to look behind him. Pike heard what sounded like a murmur. Was his brother speaking to someone? Pike tried to see who it was, but no one was there. All Pike saw was a blur of white. His brother turned back, saying one word.

"Go."

Pike's legs buckled under his weight. He was so weak. He was going to make it to the door. There was no other option. He reached down to grab his cat. Pike wanted to bury him. The tips of his fingers touched fur, and Pike was yanked off the ground. He was so disoriented he didn't put up any fight.

He was falling, dropped back into the tunnel. The hole of horrors disappeared and only smoke remained. Pike didn't know what Mae had in store for him now, but nothing could be worse than the accursed place he just departed.

His back hit cushions. It was comfortable. Pike sighed with relief. Mae must have taken pity on him. Pike was going to just rest for a moment; gather his strength before he sat up. Five, then ten minutes passed before Pike raised his upper body. His head hit against a hard surface. He heard a strange noise- soft thuds above him. Pike went to move again, but he was unable to raise his legs. They too hit against a hard surface. Again, the soft thud. Pike went still and listened. He heard voices talking, then another thud. His vision was starting to adjust, so he was able to make out a shape. He was in a box of some kind. He sputtered as an odd taste filled his mouth. It was dirt. He could now make out the clothing he was wearing. A shudder of terror went through him. It was the suit he was wearing the day he died. He recognized it more by the way it scratched against his skin than the way it looked.

His mind was starting to grasp his situation. When he did, he cried. Pike didn't care. He had no pride at this point. He cried but no sound came out. Fear prevented him from producing any noise. Pike was incoherent. The process to form words or sentences alluded him. He beat his fists against the lid. He heard people talking, and hoped maybe they would hear him. A raw sound tore from Pike's throat because he knew they wouldn't. Mae wouldn't allow that to happen. She wanted him to experience this.

He was being buried alive. Mae had returned him to his own funeral. What Pike assumed were cushions turned out to be dirt piled under his body. This became obvious when he dug his fingers in, and felt worms twitching against his palms. Pike was thrashing now, using every muscle in his body. More dirt seeped in from the cracks in the box. It was getting into his mouth, and blurred his vision. He rubbed at his eyes, but the stinging only got worse. Pike felt a thud as another pile of dirt was thrown on top of the grave. He was suffocating: he felt his air supply dwindling. Pike had to gasp in order to get air, but when he did another mouthful of dirt robbed him of breath. He was trapped and if there was one feeling Pike loathed it was this one. His coffin got smaller by the second. He could feel his mind start to splinter. He dragged his nails down his face in agony.

Pike knew Mae hated him. He knew she could be vindictive, and she had a right to be. What he did to her mother was unforgivable, but to do this? Using his worst fear against him in such a way had to be forbidden.

The coffin began to widen and lengthen at the same time. There was no light at this point. All the cracks were filled in with dirt. Pike reached out his arm to feel beside him. There was something next to him that wasn't there a moment ago. He started to feel around, but couldn't quite figure out what the object was. He reached down further and felt fingers- it was a body. He made a fast lurch to his right in an effort to get as far away from it as possible, instead slamming up against the side of his coffin. He pulled his arms in close to his sides to avoid touching the corpse.

Above his head, a tiny ball of light appeared. The color was gold set on fire. Pike was mesmerized, and his predicament was forgotten. Its movements were graceful. It lulled Pike into a state of contentment. All he wanted to do was look at the light. It was moving now, and as it moved the shape morphed into a circle. It was so beautiful among all this ugliness. Pike saw a pair of women's shoes. What struck Pike was their immaculate condition. They were the color of cream. The light moved up, and Pike saw a dress. It, too, matched the color of the shoes. Not a speck of dirt or a wrinkle marred the perfection of the dress. A hand became visible. Pike was caught off guard since the hand looked normal. It wasn't stiff. There wasn't decaying skin or bone. The hand was delicate and rested over a heart that no longer beat. Her neck was slim, and just like her hands, showed no signs of decay. He saw her chin as the head pivoted in his

direction. Pike wanted to look away, but he couldn't. His eyes were frozen in place. Her lips were painted red. Her skin had the slightest touch of mocha. Pike knew those lips, that skin. The image of them haunted him for more nights than he could count. Many times, he dreamt about seeing this face again. Pike had loved her; still loved her, although he never told her when she was alive. The arrogance of self-accomplishment prevented him from doing so. At the time, Pike thought she was lucky to have him. In reality, he was the worst thing to ever happen to her.

Pike was lifting a hand to touch her face when the light revealed her eyes. They were white and rolled back in her head. Little, blue veins crept through the paleness. Her lips stretched wide. The corners almost touching the sides of her eyes. Her teeth were stained brown. The face was a macabre mask replacing a once luminous beauty.

"Bartholomew, I'm so glad you could join me," her voice held a slight echo. "Mae told me you were coming. I love you so much. Now we will never be apart."

"Yuri," Pike's voice was hoarse. "You're dead."

"So are you," she reminded him.

Pike's suit was soaking wet from the heat inside the coffin. "I can't stay here, Yuri." He tried reasoning with her.

Her face inched closer. "We took vows. Have you forgotten? You promised to love me forever. Forever is a long time. That means your vows to me will never die."

"Yuri," Pike began.

"Hush now, it will be alright. I know you regret what happened between us, Bartholomew. That's behind us now. We have the rest of eternity to mend what was broken. Just you and me forever."

Her lips closed over his. Her breath was foul, and her lips tasted like the grave. All the while, her colorless eyes remained fixed on his.

She pulled back. "Forever." The rancid smell coming out of her mouth made him gag.

Pike went wild. He bucked his entire body in a useless effort to escape. The weight of the dirt made it impossible to open the lid of the coffin. Yuri's hands reached for him. The hands that were unblemished a short time ago now had skin hanging to reveal bone.

At the top of his lungs, Pike howled the only name that came to mind.

"Maaaee!" He yelled until his throat ached.

The lid of the coffin burst open causing a landfill to pour in while Pike was pulled by an invisible string up through the bowels of the ground. The sun- he could see the sun. The breeze was a balm to his overheated skin. Pike landed on his feet. There she was.

He fell to his knees. "Mae, please, please stop. I beg you."

"Did begging help my mother? Did it, you vile monster!"

Pike raised an appeasing hand. "I understand, Mae. You want me to suffer- I have. Believe me, I have. You can stop now. Please stop now."

Mae was unmoved. "You haven't begun to suffer. I'm just getting started. Where do you want to visit next?"

Pike lunged forward to clutch at Mae's skirt. "No, please no, Mae. I can't take anymore. Mae, please!"

She raised her hand, and then her entire body jerked. Her hand flew to her neck. Pike saw the mark there under her fingers. Mae bowed her head. Pike didn't dare move. She was fighting with herself. It was evident. She didn't raise her head, only her eyes. The next word she spoke seemed to tumble down through the years. His brother said the same thing long ago.

"Go."

He wasted no time. Pike was on his feet in an instant, running for the shadows. He threw his body into one while simultaneously smashing the vial around his neck. Black powder enveloped him. His form dissolved. He was gone. Only the worms were left to twitch in the black blood.

Mae still held the glowing mark on her neck. That had been close. She'd wanted to punish him, and she had; however, she still wasn't satisfied. Mae wanted him to suffer more. That's why her mark was glowing. She had come close to committing the sin that caused her death. Greed took on many forms. Not all of them had to do with money. The mark was burning which meant one of the Sentinels was trying to contact her. It was Kai. She heard him speaking in her mind. He was concerned for her. Mae sent him reassurance that she was fine.

She ventured over to the spot where Pike disappeared. The worms were still rolling around in the noxious, black substance staining the sidewalk. Mae lifted her foot crushing one with the tip of her shoe. Her mouth clenched as the worm's innards spilled out. It ceased to move.

THIRTY TWO

It was all coming together. The scattered pieces of her memory were piecing themselves together. She was sitting in the corner of her room with the lights turned out. Her balcony doors were open. The draft caused the sheer curtains to stretch half way into the room. Genesis was staring at the picture above her bed. The scales of justice made with intricate detail. She drew her legs into her chest wrapping her arms around them. Her mind strayed to Mae. Now, she knew how their friendship started.

Genesis saved Mae that night long ago. Genesis let her mind turn back the pages of time. Back to a time when the marvel of the automobile was sweeping the country. It was winter. It was always winter for Genesis. The rain was pouring so hard it made pelting sounds against her window. Genesis laid her head against the wall letting the memories wash over her. She let her mind drift back to a time long since passed. A time when she walked the earth as a human. A particular memory played in her mind.

Genesis pulled the bed covering closer to her body. The sound of the rain prevented her from falling asleep even though she was tired. She gave up trying to sleep. She went to the window. Her finger traced a rivulet of water winding down the glass pane. She dropped her hand and rubbed her arms to warm them. That's when Genesis saw the figure crawling on the ground. Genesis jumped from fright. She pressed her palms against the window leaning in to get a better view. The person was small and wore a dress. The person was crawling towards a crumbling outhouse that had been there for years. Of course, Genesis's family didn't use the outhouse. There was no need. It was there before Genesis was born. Her father always talked about tearing it down. He called it unsightly. The person in the dress opened the door, slipping inside. Not stopping to think, Genesis flew to her door. She opened it an inch at a time afraid of waking anyone up. On silent feet, she went outside. She was drenched within seconds. A rush of adrenaline had her shaking. Who was this mystery person out on such a night as this, and in their half-rotted outhouse? Genesis approached, her stride steady. She grasped the broken handle and swung the door open.

Genesis knew who the mysterious person was. It was the pretty Asian girl that drew pictures with her. Mae. She was in a crouched position. Her long hair was plastered to her head. They didn't speak, but a silent communication was happening. Genesis read the question in Mae's eyes, and Mae read the response in hers. Mae stood as Genesis stepped back, holding the door open. Genesis turned back toward the house and Mae followed.

Genesis peeked in through the front door. All was quiet in the house. She motioned for Mae to follow her up the stairs. They went into Genesis's room then faced one another. The flash of the storm enabled Genesis to see Mae's face clearly for the first time. A bruise darkened the right side of her face, underneath her eye. Her lip had a slight cut. Genesis saw that Mae's dress was torn on the shoulder.

Mae was the first to break the silence. "I knew you would help me."

"How did you know that?"

Mae's eyes searched hers. "I don't know, I just did. You will, won't you?"

Genesis would help her for two reasons: One, she had a fondness for Mae. Two, more importantly, she enjoyed the idea of fooling her parents right under their noses.

They hated foreigners. Genesis's father did business with them, had dinner with them, took money from them, but never viewed them as equals.

"Yes, I'll help you."

"Where do you want me to hide?"

"You don't have to hide. No one will come in my room."

"But your parents," Mae began.

"They don't care. Don't worry about the servants, they know better than to come in here."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm positive. They won't come in here tonight. The only person we need to be careful of is my sister. If she hears you, she might tell."

"You two don't like each other?"

"No," Genesis said.

There was a chair in the corner of the room. Genesis went over, pulling the folded blanket off to give to Mae. It was thick and warm.

"Here, you're shivering. Go sit down," Genesis motioned to the chair.

Mae sat down, assessing Genesis's room. "Your home is lovely and so big. When I first saw it I wasn't sure if it was a house. I followed you home if you're wondering how I knew where you lived." Mae stood up then spun around in a circle. "It must be magical living here. It's almost like a castle."

"Yes, magical," Genesis muttered. "But I don't think it looks like a castle."

"I'm going to live in a house like this one day just wait and see."

"Didn't you say the home you live in now was nice?"

"Nice, yes, but I want this."

Genesis shrugged a shoulder. "I don't care about money."

Mae quit spinning. "Don't care about money! That's ridiculous. You say that, Genesis, because you've always had it; not like me. Money, I've decided, is more important than anything."

"It's not that important, Mae."

Mae's response was harsh. "You're a fool."

Genesis didn't care for that statement. Mae was tense in a way that made Genesis nervous.

"You haven't asked me why I'm here, Genesis, or about my face," Mae's anger was obvious.

"I was waiting for you to tell me. I didn't want to upset you even more."

"That was kind," Mae wrapped the blanket closer.

After an uncomfortable silence, Genesis couldn't help from asking, "Where is your mother? I'm sure she would help you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Genesis wished she could take them back. Pure anguish filled Mae's face. Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

"My mother can't help anyone anymore."

"Why not? Has something happened?"

Mae nodded.

"Surely you stepfather can help. He's her husband."

Mae's face distorted even more. Hate radiated from her, the emotion so alive Genesis was sure it took form and stood in the room with them.

"He sold her," the words shook with rage.

Genesis turned pale.

"Did you hear me?" The softness of her voice made the comment more frightening. "He sold her like she was livestock. My beautiful mother, my beautiful mother," Mae breathed the words.

"Are you saying that Bartholomew sold your mother! What do you …to whom?"

"Pike," Mae said through clenched teeth, "is his name. Do you remember the Americans I told you about? The ones my mother worked for before she married Pike? I didn't tell you the whole story. The husband, the nasty, beast of a husband, wanted my mother. Not just to clean. My mother wanted nothing to do with him. She threatened to tell his wife. What my mother didn't know was his wife already knew. The things my mother endured, the humiliation she suffered at their hands," Mae's voice shook with a force. "I hope they burn."

"But Pike took her away from all that."

"Yes, he did. He promised her a different life in a different place. He made a lot of promises, and some he did keep. He bought us nice things, took us nice places. After a while things started to change."

"How?"

"I don't really know the whole story. I would hear arguing late at night. I heard things here and there. Pike was losing his money. He got into trouble with some men who did illegal activities. I'm not sure what they were. But, it was causing Pike to lose a lot of money. He made bets he couldn't pay. I heard him say that. I heard him tell mother people were going to come after him."

Mae paused for a moment giving Genesis the feeling Mae didn't want to say what she said next.

"Your father," she said. "He was one of the men Pike owed money too. The day I met you, I already knew who you were."

Genesis swallowed hard. "Did my father hurt your mother?"

"No, he didn't. But your father deals with many people who aren't very nice. He knew a certain married couple who just moved back to America and happened to move to this particular area. Let's see how smart you are, Genesis. Can you guess who I'm talking about?"

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Genesis's stomach. She knew exactly who Mae was talking about.

"The Americans. The ones who treated your mother so badly."

"Very smart. Yes. One night Pike told my mother he had to go meet your father to try and work things out. He didn't know the Americans would be there too. They offered to pay Pike's debt to your father in return for something."

Genesis's mouth was dry. "What did they want?"

"Even though Pike was losing his money, he still had some things to bargain with: his home, worth a lot of money, his gold coins, the ivory combs. Those alone were worth a lot of money. Your father wanted those possessions but Pike refused."

Mae came up to Genesis, so close Genesis could see that her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. Her lashes were spiked together from her tears.

"Do you know what he did then, Genesis? He told the Americans he had something they wanted. He was willing to trade. If he was allowed to keep the few treasures he had, they could have us. If they paid his debt to your father, they could take us that night."

Genesis's hand pressed into her chest. "I'm so sorry, Mae."

"That night, some men came to us while we slept. I could hear my mother screaming as they pulled her out of her room. They came for me next. My mother was pleading with them to let me go, but they drug us both outside. They brought us to a barn. My mother was yelling at Pike. She demanded to know what was going on. He told her the whole story. He said she now belonged to the Americans, and so did I. My mother flew at him. He knocked her to the ground. He called her ungrateful. He told her they were going to kill him; that she owed him. The Americans came to me. They were touching and examining me like I was an item for sale. I shoved their hands off me. The wife smacked me in the face. The husband bent to my mother who was still on the floor, and I saw, Genesis. I saw it in his eyes. Revenge. He wanted revenge for her leaving him. My mother spit in his face. He said, "Yuri, do you love your daughter?" That stopped mother from fighting. They put us in the back of a cart attached to a horse. They were riding in the automobile behind us. The cart began moving so fast that I felt every bump the wheels hit. My mother grabbed me by my arms saying, "Run and don't ever look back." She shoved me hard so that I fell off the cart. I looked at her one last time then I ran. I ran until my legs burned. I thought of you, and I ran here. I don't have anywhere else to go. Please say you'll help me, Genesis."

Genesis caught Mae up in a fierce hug. "Of course, Mae, of course I'll help you."

Mae's sobs racked her slight frame. Her fingers dug into Genesis's back. A sudden thought had Genesis pushing her back.

"Mae, your mother. We have to find her. Maybe we can help her escape. Do you know where they were going?"

Mae put her head back on Genesis's shoulder. "She doesn't need help, Genesis. She'll never need help anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"When she pushed me from the cart, I told you I looked back at her one last time. Just in time to see her throw herself under the wheels. Her neck broke. Her head was turned in my direction. Her eyes, her lifeless eyes stared into mine."

Mae fell to the floor, and Genesis knelt beside her.

"They'll pay for this, Mae. I promise you they will."

Mae got quiet. Then, her eyes met Genesis's. Genesis saw death.

"They will pay. I swear, Genesis, with every breath in my body, they will burn."

THIRTY THREE

Genesis. The name was a mantra in what was left of her mind. Mistress thought of nothing else since her conversation with Silas. Genesis. The girl so important to the Sentinels. She didn't care why she was important to them or to Silas. She just wanted to take Majesty's place: see colors again, taste again. Even that need was hard to muster. For her, it was like a flame lost in the wind. The spark was bright for an instant then snuffed into oblivion by a gust that left smoke in its wake. Mistress couldn't latch onto the emotion. It tempted, it teased, it vanished.

Her eyes strayed to the blood room. Mistress knew they were there in the darkness. She couldn't see them, but she knew they were there. She felt them. The vials with her blood- Majesty's blood. It pulsated with life. Every being in The Idyll felt it, they craved it. It was an endless yearning. It was worse than the malice that consumed all of them, because it would never be satisfied. No being in this place would ever have life again: except her.

Silas said that once Majesty was dead, she would feel again. She would be able to cross the divide whenever she pleased. Mistress wasn't able to use Majesty's blood like the others.

Majesty forbid her. She was only given permission to retrieve the vials since Seekers were unable to enter the blood room.

The scratching pulled her from her reverie of thoughts. Mistress made her way to the entrance of the fortress. She floated with languor, reminiscent of a body left victim to the never ending current of the sea. Her dress and hair, slate but translucent all at once, tossed in a graceful dance creating a haunting vision formed of ash and death. She drifted down the long corridor leading to the oak doors preventing any Seekers entry. The door unhinged itself. Mistress emerged into blinding rain. The scratching ceased. The Seekers turned. They didn't move. Mistress selected the one closest to her. The Seeker climbed the mangled, thick branches until it stood in front of her.

She proceeded back into the fortress without addressing the Seeker, but it knew to follow. They passed the lavish chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. They were favorites of Majesty's. Countless Seekers scoured the world to acquire them for Majesty's pleasure. This Seeker, who had never been inside the fortress, wasn't able to appreciate the magnificence in front of it. Neither could Mistress. These chandeliers once resided in the palaces of kings and queens, yet the Seeker felt nothing in their presence. They entered into the grand hall. Mistress went towards the room carved out of the wall. They both felt it at the same time. Mistress was accustomed to the feeling, but the Seeker wasn't. She was aware when the vibration hit it. The wheezing was her first indication. This was what Seekers yearned for.

When they reached the opening of the blood room, Mistress hesitated. The Seeker knew it couldn't enter the room. It had to wait for her.

"I'm going to get the vial."

Mistress entered the coveted room reeling from the pulsations emanating within the chamber. She was able to see without any trouble. There were grooves dug out of the wood. Resting inside the grooves were vials filled with black liquid. Blood: blood that held tremendous power. The vials were everywhere.

She picked up a vial and left the room. "I have a mission for you. There is a girl I want you to find. She goes by the name Genesis. Be on your guard, the Sentinels are protective of her. Get close to her if you are able. Find out as much information as you can. You have to approach her out of the range of Sentinels. They will know at once you're a Seeker. They will smell it. Do you understand?"

The Seeker nodded.

"Listen to my words. Do not deviate from them. When you cross over, you will assume the form from when you were alive. This will require no effort on your part I am told. You will appear human."

Again, the Seeker nodded in assent.

"It is essential that what I tell you next you do not disobey. When you are in the form of the living, you will experience emotions again. This will overwhelm you to the point of madness.

You may start to forget what you really are because the feelings are so powerful. You must not under any circumstance try to possess a human body. If you do so, it will be at you own peril. Am I clear?"

The Seeker nodded. Mistress drifted towards the glass wall that separated the two realms. She gestured for the Seeker to follow her.

"The way you cross over is to focus on where you want to go or whom you want to see. You say the name or place you want to go. I will give you an image- concentrate on it. The blood will take you to the thing you seek. Be observant of how much blood remains in the vial. It will deplete slowly. When it is gone, you cannot cross back again."

She reached out, touching the Seeker on the forehead. Her finger sank an inch or so into the place where flesh and bone used to exist. She showed the Seeker the image of the movie theater Silas was in when he appeared to her.

"Do you have the image?" she asked.

The Seeker reached out to touch the vision suspended in front of its lifeless eyes.

"You will know a Sentinel when you see one. I am told they are comprised of a startling whiteness. You will know white once you cross. Do not let one of them see you. However, you must get close to them in order to find the girl. Draw her out; get me a visual of her."

Mistress turned her back to the mirrored wall. "You must know that I am only telling you what others have told me. I am not able to cross, therefore I have never experienced these things for myself."

The Seeker still didn't respond.

"To return, simply think of The Idyll and crush the vial in your hand. You must be in the shadows for this to be successful. Now go."

The Seeker could not feel danger or nervousness, so without hesitation he brought the vile to his lips, and put its foot into the mirror. The splintering began as pieces fell apart signaling a disruption. Mistress didn't turn to watch. She waited for the crunching sound of the mirror putting itself back together, only it didn't happen. She turned just as Pike came hurtling through the divide, rolled, and landed face first at her feet.

THIRTY FOUR

The temperature hit the Seeker first. Memories assailed him from every corner. Flashes and bursts awakening nerves and cells that were dormant for years on end. He was fascinated by the skin forming on his body. The skin burned as it came to stinging life. He remembered falling through the ice when he was a boy. His father saved him. He felt the softness of the blanket his mother made for him, climbing trees, seeing his first love. When the snow thawed, jumping in the river with his friends. Feeling the water close over his head. As his feet touched the bottom made of sand, he looked up to see the sun casting a halo above the currents folding him in its embrace.

The feelings crippled him, brought him to his knees. The air moving through his lungs hurt, yet tears welled up at the exquisite pain. Still on his knees, the Seeker rocked back on his heels. He didn't move- couldn't move. All he could do was observe in sheer amazement. All the color, all the movement: life.

He heard a sound. A sound so foreign to his ears, but he knew he'd heard it before, somewhere- sometime. It was made of music, playing in his ears. He and his friends made that

sound when they climbed the trees then dove into the river. Laughter. The music was laughter. The Seeker touched the flesh that now existed on his face. His lips were moving in an unfamiliar way, pulling in opposite directions. The Seeker felt marble between the lips. What he felt wasn't marble, simply teeth. He was smiling. All around him, glorious life. It reached inside him, filled him, until he thought the emotions would drive him insane.

He smelled a delectable scent. There was a man standing with some sort of cart. The Seeker stumbled in his haste to reach what he wanted. He didn't know what kind of food it was. It didn't matter. The man spoke to him, but the Seeker didn't respond. Instead, he reached in the cart grabbing handfuls of whatever was inside. He ran with the man shouting after him. He was reckless in his haste, knocking into several bystanders. He ripped off the packaging, biting into the food with a voracious hunger. When the first morsel hit his tongue, his eyes rolled back. He felt a heaving in his stomach; a stomach which a few moments ago had been dead. The taste, the texture, the warmth was almost more than he could take. He was oblivious to the stares of the people around him as he gorged himself on hotdogs.

He had to have more. He began to weave through the crowd peering into store windows. His appearance registered at last. He could see himself in the window of the store, and the last of the hotdog fell from his hand. He was afraid, and even that he welcomed. He stared at the vision of the person he once was. Mistress told him he would take on the form of his living body, but it was still unreal. With a tentative gesture, he brushed his hand over his hair. Its color was brown. He ran his hand over his face. The face that had decayed in the grave. Now it was intact, and the tears fell free. When he was alive, it was drilled into him that men didn't cry. But, he wasn't a man anymore, even though he would give anything to be one again. He took in his

clothing. It was plain: black pants and shirt. He didn't know if all Seekers who crossed over were given the same covering. The roughness of the material against his arms was a welcomed sensation.

His head turned at the smell next to him. A woman coming out of the store had food. He wanted it so he reached out and took it. The woman hit him on his arm, but he barely felt the blow. This food had a different taste- a sweetness. How he missed sweetness. He stuffed it in his mouth uncaring that frosting coated his lips. When he finished, he wiped his sleeve across his mouth. He looked back at his own reflection as a name made itself known. He was Henry. All he saw was that reflection. Sadness and regret engulfed him, but he embraced those emotions. As painful as they were, he felt them. They brought him happiness. Only a Seeker would understand. He was being given a second chance. A chance to live the life denied him.

Mistress's voice sounded in his mind. Her warning about wanting to stay in this realm. He tried to hold on to that warning, but couldn't seem to latch on no matter how hard he tried. He had a mission to do though he'd forgotten what it was. He had to find someone for Mistress, however, her name escaped him. The sweet promise of life consumed him. He was convinced Mistress lied to him about possessing a human. She lied so he wouldn't stay on this side. He was here now, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

He scanned the crowd. An odor had him zoning in on a person coming towards him. He judged the youth to be in his late teens, but it was the fragrance engulfing him that made the Seeker pause. The smell was unmistakable. The smell of death. This young man was sick. Death was coming for him. The Seeker knew instinctively that the only bodies he could enter were those with an illness; a very serious illness. It made them weak, and easy to take over.

He fell into step behind the young man. He got so close there was not an inch of space between them. When the Seeker took the next step, his foot melded with the human's foot. The next step, his calf blended in, and then his whole leg. The human didn't feel anything as this was taking place. The Seeker immersed himself into living tissue; absorbed it, and experienced every pore come into screaming life.

A kaleidoscope of memories assailed him. The human's name was Gabe. The images were so piercing they resembled the slicing of a blade. He saw the human Gabe as a little boy running along the sandy shore at the beach, eating ice cream as it dripped down his chin, getting his first drum set, his house on Row Street, his parents Pam and Matt, Gabe standing in front of a mirror buttoning his shirt and observing his image with complete dissatisfaction. So many memories bombarding him at once. The Seeker consumed them, fed on them, because this was who he was now. This was his new life. He was Gabe, and this was his second chance.

"Hey, Gabe," a voice shouted.

It took the Seeker a moment to realize the person was speaking to him. He was Gabe now. He was taking over his life. He turned to address the person calling his new name.

"Hey, man, what's going on?"

He knew the kids name was Chris from Gabe's memories.

"Hello, how are you?" Gabe asked.

"Great. Hey, listen, I wanted to tell you that practice is cancelled on Monday. I just found out," Chris said.

"Practice? What practice?" Gabe asked.

"What's wrong with you," Chris said laughing. "Band practice what else."

"Oh, that's right I forgot," Gabe remembered he was in band. He played the drums.

Chris squinted at him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Chris didn't look convinced. "Well, okay, then I'll see ya on Monday."

Gabe nodded.

Gabe knew exactly where to go. He knew what bus he had to take to get home. He didn't know what a bus was, but he saw the image from the human's mind. He watched in fascination as the blue monstrosity pulled up in front of him. He knew he was supposed to pay for the ride, so he rustled in his pocket to find change. The doors of the bus swung open, and Gabe paused to examine the steps leading onto the bus. With caution, he climbed up the steps, handed the driver the money, and took a seat.

He was in heaven. There was no other word for it as the bus began to move. He couldn't believe how much the world had changed since his death. He craned his neck to watch the magnificent buildings that seemed to stretch into the sky. He'd never seen buildings like this or the mass of people that walked along the sides of the road. Everything was a source of amazement for him: the smells, sounds, and lights. He was happy; an emotion so many people found so difficult to attain. Yet, to him, just the simplicity of being alive filled him with an undeniable happiness. Just to breathe in and out, and feel his lungs expand was something to celebrate. He knew now why Mistress didn't want Seekers to take over human's bodies. They would never want to leave. And he never would.

The bus came to a halt. Gabe knew this was where he got off. His feet had a will of their own as they followed the familiar path home. He took his time, because he had all the time in the world now. He watched the birds leap from branch to branch on the trees lining the sides of the road. So many trees. He laughed at himself. When he was alive, in his first life, he would never have paid attention to such a thing. This time, he would take nothing for granted. This new life, this new world, was something to be savored. He could see the street names clearly in his mind. He knew which direction to take. He rounded the corner, and the house was there- his new house. He stopped to look at the place that was now his home. He still couldn't comprehend how different things were in this day and age.

Gabe went to the front door; turned the knob, and let himself inside the house. It was warm. He hadn't been warm in so long. He turned in a slow circle, not missing one detail. He heard noise, and he followed the sound. The room he entered was painted a bright yellow, and he saw pots. Then, he saw her. Pam. Gabe's mother now his mother. She noticed him.

"Hey, sweetheart, did you get what you needed from the store?"

She smiled at him, and hugged him.

He clung to her, his hold tight. Affection. He absorbed it; let it wash over him. Dear God, how long had it been since he felt affection or anything close to it. He never wanted to let her go.

She pulled back and placed her hands on his shoulders. She was still smiling, but the smile was tinged with concern.

"You okay, honey?"

Gabe didn't trust himself to speak so he nodded.

"Good. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. I'm making spaghetti."

Gabe left the sunny room. To his right, he saw stairs. His room was at the top of those stairs. He went inside trying to assimilate the person he now was. The room was quite messy.

Clothing was strewn across the floor. Empty cans on the desk against the wall. The room had a nice smell though. He went to the wall which apparently displayed his new interests. Football posters hung from the wall. Of course, he didn't know what a poster was or football for that matter. Gabe's mind told him. The human he possessed must have admired this football. He used the tip of his foot to move a piece of clothing out of his way. There were so many clothes he couldn't see the floor.

The next few items he saw hanging on the walls triggered a bell. It was him, Gabe, playing the drums. He had an odd hat on his head, and the drum was huge. Gabe posed in another photograph with a group of friends. He soaked up all the information he could about Gabe. He was Gabe now. That was how he saw it.

He saw the bed. He felt very tired. He hadn't been tired for so long. It looked so tempting. He wanted to lie down for just a little while. The bed was so soft. He pulled the blanket over him. He crossed his arms behind his head as total peace washed over him. Here he was in his new body, his new home, his new bed. This time around things would be different. He had the advantage of hindsight. He would grab every opportunity that presented itself. He chuckled as he thought of Mistress. The witch lied to him. There was every reason in the world to take over a human body. As he drifted off to sleep, what gave him the most satisfaction was the idea of her trapped in that wasteland and the knowledge that she could never reach him again.

THIRTY FIVE

Genesis lifted her head up off her knees. Her hand was covering the top of her head as if it would help her channel more memories. The "flashes" were happening more frequently.

Genesis replayed the scene with Mae. Mae had a fondness for things. She liked money too. She was also tough, broken and desperate. Not that Genesis blamed her. To see her own mother die like that must have been horrendous. Genesis felt Mae's pain. And that man; Pike she called him, what a vile man. Genesis hoped he got his comeuppance in the worst way.

Genesis went back to the discussion she had with Silas on the bridge. He said there wasn't a word to describe her. Genesis, however, had a perfect word in mind. Immortal. She wasn't dead or alive. She certainly wasn't human. Her life took place many, many years ago, and somehow she was still here in the present. So were Mae, Thierry and Silas. Her parents and sister were not here. She still wasn't able to account for their deaths. Genesis wasn't really concerned about that because from what she discerned she didn't like her parents anyway. Her sister she hated. Her sister who had such a fulfilling life. And now Genesis was here, and her sister was nothing but bones in her grave. But, the question was why? Why was Genesis here and not her sister or parents? How did she become immortal?

Before she could ponder that situation any further, an explosion of light shot to every corner of her room. It only lasted a second before leaving. She could still see the light coming from under her door.

She went into the hallway, and over to the landing until she could see into the main room downstairs. The crystal globes were alive with brilliance. The color was stunning in its purity. The air around them pulsated. Genesis hurried down the winding stairway to go stand beside Mae. Thierry and Kai were there also. Genesis's eyes went from them to the globes. She moved a little closer, peering into the light that burned her eyes. There was a figure, a boy, moving in the crowd. Genesis didn't recognize him. Her gaze went to Mae who was standing still. Thierry and Kai were standing still too. Their faces were blank.

She gave a snap, quick and sharp so that all attention focused on her. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question. They ignored her.

"It's my turn," Thierry said to Kai.

"Are you sure?" was his response.

"Yes. What do you think, Mae? You think this one will follow its orders, or will it want to hang around for a while?" Thierry nodded towards the orb as he asked the question.

"Never can tell, Thierry. Just when I think I have one pegged, they go and surprise me."

Genesis studied the boy. She was trying to place where she'd seen him before.

"You better go, Thierry, and get it. I have a bad feeling about this one," Kai stressed with a nod towards the orb.

"Get what?" Genesis asked Kai.

"A weapon, the only weapon that can kill it," Kai told her.

Mae put her hand on Genesis's back. "You want to know what "it" is, but believe me, at times ignorance is bliss." She gave Genesis a little pat.

Without thinking, Genesis said, "He's getting the weapon to kill the Seeker."

The ensuing silence was so loud it was almost deafening. At first, Genesis didn't realize what she said. She didn't understand why all three of them were speechless. Her eyes went round. She knew what that thing was. Well, she knew what it was called. Seeker.

She grabbed Mae's hand. "I'm right," her voice was excited. "I'm right, aren't I? That's what it's called isn't it, Mae?"

"You know its name, Genesis?" Mae asked.

Genesis gave Mae's hand a small tug. "Yes! Isn't that a good thing? You all keep stressing that I need to remember on my own. I just did, Mae! Granted, it's only a name, but it's a start."

They're not smiling. All three faces were sullen. Genesis let go of Mae's hand.

"I don't understand you. This is what you want."

It was Thierry who spoke. "I know our reactions aren't what you'd expect. Please know, we are glad your memories are beginning to return. It's just that we're wary," he chose the last word with care.

"Wary…of me?" Her voice had a bite to it.

"Frankly, yes," Thierry said.

"Oh, well, that makes sense," she ridiculed him. "Remember Genesis, you must remember. Oh, wait, don't remember because now we're wary," she drew out the last word.

"Do you know what a Seeker is, Genesis?" Kai's asked.

"No," she sounded curt. Then, she tilted her head to the side pursing her lips.

"Well, that's isn't completely true. They have a certain…smell. The smell is sweet, but so sweet it makes you sick. They live on borrowed time. I think that's right. They can't stay here long, but I don't know why. I'm not…I'm not sure where they come from, or why they come."

She looked at Kai. "Am I right?"

"You are."

"We'll get back to this later," Thierry interrupted them. He was putting on his coat.

"I have to get the weapon and find the Seeker," Thierry was talking as he left the room.

"Is he going to kill it?" Genesis asked.

"Of course. They're unpredictable; however, one thing is predictable. Whatever they do is never good.

"Will you give me an example?"

"Well," Kai started to say, but stopped, his eyes glued to the orb. He scared Genesis with his next move. He shouted, and Kai wasn't the type to shout.

"Thierry, get in here!"

He was anxious. Genesis went back to the orb to see what was causing Kai to react this way.

She saw the Seeker. He was very close to a human. For a moment, Genesis thought he was going to run into the human, but she wasn't prepared for what she saw. In disbelief, she saw the Seeker blend into the human. Blend in and disappear. She swung back to Kai.

"Well, as I was about to say, they can possess humans. Is that a good enough example for you?"

THIRTY SIX

Thierry opened the door to the cellar. There was nothing special about it. To an onlooker it was just another musty, cluttered cellar. This specific one contained a priceless item. Only the Sentinels knew its location. Only Sentinels knew there was another one, though that one was hidden. If a Seeker saw the weapon that meant it would feel the burn of its blade.

He went to the wall on the far side of the cellar, an ordinary wall in appearance. He stood facing the center of the wall, speaking the words only Sentinels knew. The language wasn't human. Only these words would allow Thierry access to what lay behind this sheet of glass.

After saying the words, the panel of the wall slid back to reveal the blade. Thierry looked at its heart, the amulet cradled in the middle of the steel. The amulet was the source of power. The sword itself was useless. The amulet contained an element that was irreplaceable. No other weapon could harness it.

Thierry removed the blade from its confinement, when he heard Kai shout his name. He raced up the stairs and into the main room.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a rush.

"This one moved fast," Kai said.

"Where's the Seeker?"

He pointed to the human the Seeker had possessed. "He's right there. That's what I mean. He didn't waste any time. The temptation for this one was too strong."

Thierry let out a tense curse. He turned away from them. His shoulders were rigid.

Genesis looked at Mae. "What's wrong with him?"

"Since you remembered what a Seeker was to some extent, I guess it doesn't hurt to tell you this part. You mentioned their smell. That's how we find them. At first, they appear as they did when they were alive, but they retain their smell. Some can't resist the temptation to possess a human. When they do, they become part of the vessel they inhabit. They become one. The smell is no longer detectable. That's when the waiting begins."

"What do you mean? What do you have to wait for?"

"Seekers are not of this realm. They aren't supposed to be here. Eventually, their unnaturalness harms the vessel they possess. There are signs when this begins to happen: the eyes change, skin turns grayish, teeth rot, sores break out. It's not pleasant. Also, the smell returns."

"Does the human die?"

Mae glanced at Thierry. "That's why he's upset. When the Seeker is killed, the human is killed along with it."

Genesis pointed towards the orb. "So that innocent kid has to die? Is that really necessary?"

"Gen, we have tried to find others ways, and we've failed. Yes, he has to die. There simply is no other way. It's unavoidable. Usually, they don't possess humans this fast. Some won't possess them at all. You have to understand; once a body is possessed, it is no longer the human it once was. I know this sounds, well, I know this sounds unfeeling, but killing it is the merciful thing to do."

"But what about that person's family?" Genesis asked.

Mae put her head down.

Genesis was upset. "These, things, have been doing this since the beginning of time? How many people have lost their lives to these things?"

"It's not like they've always been able to cross over, Gen," Mae informed her.

"What?"

"Mae!" Thierry jerked around.

"Why not? Why can they cross now? What changed?" Genesis's curiosity got the better of her.

"They just can and that's the end of it," Thierry's hand cut through the air to emphasis his point.

This made Genesis angry. "No, Thierry, it's not the end of it just because you say so. When were they able to start coming over here? What changed to allow them to come into this world?"

"I said leave it, Genesis."

Genesis gritted her teeth. They weren't going to tell her so why argue?

The light in the room dimmed as the orbs returned to normal. In alarm, Genesis said, "It's gone. How are you going to find him now?"

"I've seen the vicinity it's in- that's enough. I'll wait a few days then go after it. It's pointless now because it would blend in. When the decaying starts, the smell returns. Not strong at first, but it grows. I find it and then use this." Thierry lifted the blade.

To Genesis, the blade sucked all the air out of the room. Her eyes zeroed in on the jewel in the center. Her mind flashed back to when she first saw Mae in the hospital. She had a vision of her wielding this same blade. A vision she knew was a "flash".

She became very cold. She wanted to crawl out of her own skin. Her breathing was erratic, and she wanted to run. She wanted to bolt from the room, and never return as long as that blade was here. That jewel…something about that jewel. She didn't dare speak with that blade in the room.

Mae saw her reaction. "Thierry, put it away for now."

Genesis tracked Thierry's every move as he left the room. Her mouth became unglued. She jabbed a finger at Mae.

"I saw you with that, in the hospital. I saw you with that blade. I know now it was a memory. I was there with you. Were we killing one of those things?"

"I did the killing."

"What did I do?" Genesis wanted to know.

"You watched it die."

"I wasn't much help then, was I?"

"On that day, no," Mae responded.

THIRTY SEVEN

Gabe was itching. He rubbed his skin so raw, sores were forming. Some of the sores were starting to scab over. Gabe took that as a good sign. He was certain it would go away. The human's body was adjusting to his presence. There wasn't anything to worry about. Gabe turned on the television in his room while getting dressed for school. He was amazed by the sheer size of the television. At how the pictures on the screen jumped out at him. He paid particular attention to the way males dressed in this age. Gabe browsed through the closet with reluctance.

The clothes didn't look anything like the ones he saw on the big screen. He flipped through the various items of clothing until he found something suitable to wear. He put the clothes on, thinking it was a huge improvement. He made certain it all matched. He looked at his hair. It hung over his eyes. He turned back to the television. His hair didn't resemble any of today's youth. Their hair was more disheveled; going in different directions.

He knew the scissors were kept in the bathroom. He got them, and returned to the mirror with determination. He began to snip here and there. He didn't know what he was doing. He just kept thinking messy. When he finished, he observed the results. He had to admit it didn't look too bad. He ran his hand over the top of his head. It was good.

He knew he was supposed to brush his teeth with toothpaste. The taste was strong but pleasant. It smelled like pine needles. As he was brushing, he felt a pain in his mouth. He rinsed his mouth, and pulled his lip back to see his tooth. One tooth had turned gray with a black ring around it. Again, he thought this was normal when possessing a body. This, too, would go away. He didn't dwell on it any longer.

He closed his front door as he left for school. When he arrived, the hallways were crowded. Memories showed him the way to get to his locker. The numbers came to him, and he entered them in. He got what he needed then closed the door.

He was going to his first class when he noticed the silence. People were looking at him, and Gabe didn't pretend to not know why. He looked good and he felt good. The clothes he chose to wear and his hair were dramatic improvements. One thing Seekers didn't lack was confidence. He had already lived his life and died. He now knew better than to obsess over things that were meaningless. Life was too short to waste it on the fear of judgment. Being accepted by others held no sway over him anymore. He thought of all the time he wasted during his life worrying over such inconsequential things. With this life, he would do what he wanted. Be what he wanted.

The morning went by with ease. The bell rang for lunch. Gabe entered the cafeteria and saw her. She enthralled him. Ella. That was her name. He couldn't remember ever seeing anything so lovely. He wanted her. Plain and simple. His feet moved of their own accord in her direction. Heads turned to follow his progress. Ella met his eyes. He got within inches of her table. The boy sitting next to her stood. He was huge, his posture aggressive. He didn't intimidate Gabe in the least.

"Sit down," he told the menacing presence next to her. The hulking figure sat without a word.

Gabe held his hand out to her, and she placed her hand in his. They left the cafeteria holding hands. They went past classrooms until they reached the pool area. Gabe pushed open the door to find the area empty. He pulled her close. Her eyes were green. She smelled like strawberries. He leaned forward pressing his lips against hers- The Idyll forgotten.

Four weeks passed since his kiss with Ella. They were together every day. He was anxious to see her again. But Gabe wasn't feeling well.

He got out of bed. His body felt sluggish. His neck and back ached. He massaged his neck as he went into the bathroom. He did the ritual of brushing his teeth. There was blood in the water along with two of his teeth. Fearful, he looked in the mirror. His eyes had dark rings around them. A blood spot marred one of his eyes. His two front teeth were black.

He panicked. This was one emotion he didn't like feeling again. His chest felt like it was going to explode. His mind was racing. He didn't know what to do. He could tell people he was sick, but that excuse wouldn't last for long. And his teeth. If he didn't smile he could get by a few days while he figured things out. He had to figure things out. There was no other option.

He didn't have a choice; he had to see her. Ella. He loved her so much, and in such a short time. He was certain he would never feel love again. It was a terrible and wonderful emotion. He was helpless in its thrall. He got dressed and left the house. He was glad nobody was home when he left. He didn't want to face his parents.

The sun wasn't smiling today. Clouds blotted out all sunlight. He wasn't going to stay in school, he just wanted to see Ella, hear her voice, then leave. He had to think. There had to be a solution to his problem. All he needed was a little time.

He knew where she would be waiting. She would be leaning against the tree on the side of the school. She always waited there for him. He tried to move faster; however, his legs wouldn't cooperate. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head as a group of students passed by. He rounded the corner, and there she was. She smiled. Gabe's chest tightened at the sight of that smile. He pushed his hood off. Ella loved to run her fingers through his hair. As he got closer, her smile faltered. The color drained from her face. Her lips moved like she was speaking. He stopped an inch from her. That's when he saw her lips tremble. He leaned forward to kiss her, but there was a barrier between them. Gabe looked down and saw it was her hand. She pushed him back.

Ella was scared. He could read it on her face. He reached out to touch her hair; the gesture meant to comfort her. She flinched.

"What's wrong with you?" Her lips were stiff.

"I'm not feeling too good, that's all. I think I might be coming down with the flu. I haven't slept much. I'm tired, but don't worry. I'll be better soon," he tried to appease her. Ella stepped back as Gabe tried to touch her. She knocked his hand away.

"Your skin," her words quivered as she continued her retreat.

"Ella, it's alright. I'm sick. I know I look bad, but who looks good when they're sick?" He tried to joke. Tried to lighten the mood.

"Your skin," she said. "It's peeling. It's peeling off your face. Don't you feel that? Pieces of your skin are missing!"

"What are you talking about?"

A solitary tear fell down her cheek.

"Your hair," she backed up even further. "What…what are you?" As soon as she voiced the question, Gabe knew there was no fooling her.

Right then, Gabe wished he was back in The Idyll. Back to where he didn't feel anything. He saw it shrivel and die before his eyes. Love. That terrible and wonderful emotion. Love is a monster, Gabe decided. It was a predator; hiding before it ripped you limb to limb.

What are you? echoed in his head. Ella knew, it was no use pretending. He absorbed every feature of her face, because he knew he would never see her again. Ella ran, leaving Gabe to gaze at the spot where she stood moments ago. He tried to decide which was worse. The Idyll where one felt only longing and malice, or here where one felt everything.

Gabe cursed himself ten times over. What was he thinking? He was no fool. Of course it was better over here. Yes, Ella hurt him, but she was just a girl. He could replace her. Right now, he had bigger problems than Ella. He had to find a remedy for what ailed him. Until that happened, nothing else mattered.

THIRTY EIGHT

Pike was home. Back in that detestable place. She was waiting for information, he knew. She glided towards him. Her hair floated out in front of her. One strand circled his neck, tightening, before sliding away. Pike felt no fear, only the ever present darkness that dwelled inside those in The Idyll. He had no problem meeting her eyes.

"Did you find the girl? Genesis, did you find her?" Her voice had no inflection.

I did, Mistress, but the Sentinels keep her close."

"Do they?" Her winding hair covered the bottom half of her face leaving only the black sockets visible.

"Majesty?" she asked.

"No, no sight of her."

"That snake," for the first time a hint of color touched her voice. "I would think she was wreaking havoc over there. Why does she remain hidden? It's not like her to remain unnoticed. It's odd.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Mistress." Pike could care less what she considered odd.

"I sent a Seeker over to find her. He has yet to return. I assume the temptation was too much. The Seeker most likely possessed a human body. The Sentinels will finish him off. I did warn him."

"I'm certain of it, Mistress."

She faced him.

"She has to die, Mistress. The girl, Genesis, she has to die in order to kill Majesty. It's the only way. They are linked, but I have yet to discover why," Pike lied. He knew very well what the connection was between Genesis and Majesty. Silas told him, and Silas was soon to enlighten Mistress in his own way.

He blinked, and her face was pressed against his.

"Linked. How?"

"I don't know," he lied. "It's the reason they keep her so close."

"Then why do they let her live? Why do they not grasp the opportunity to kill the girl? Silas knows Majesty is in their realm, and I'm assuming the Sentinels do as well. If Genesis is the key to Majesty's destruction, why does she live?"

"There is more to it than that, Mistress."

"Kill her, Pike."

"Mistress, I can't kill her. No one can. By her hand only can she die. By her hand only."

She laughed. Her mouth gaped open while she laughed. The sound held no merriment. It was a hollow, continuous drum beat.

She craned her neck all the way back to look upward as she said to Him that created all things. "Very clever."

"Silas wants to speak with you again. That means I have to go back so he can use it," Pike moved in the direction of the blood room. "The blood breaks the divide as you know."

"I'll get you a vial then. It seems you are the only one I can count on, Pike." Her praise held no emotion.

"Mistress, I am honored," Pike said without the slightest hint of sincerity.

THIRTY NINE

Genesis wandered alone in the graveyard near the house. The air was oppressive. It matched her mood. Her fingers traveled over the rough edges of the grave stones as she paced.

Her parents came to mind. Her parents had no morals. They were abusive people. Well, only towards Thierry and herself. Not to her sister. Witch, I should have let her die in that fire. She knew Mae had been her only friend, and Mae's life hadn't been ideal either.

However, she couldn't remember how her parents or sister died, or how she died for that matter. She didn't know how Mae or Thierry died, Kai, Silas, any of them.

It continued to puzzle Genesis that neither her sister nor parents were here. Where were they? Not that she was sad about it, but why?

Genesis pictured the glowing orbs. When she saw the Seeker, she knew its name immediately. She knew they could inhabit human bodies, and Sentinels killed them. Genesis remembered something else; and for some unknown reason, she didn't want anyone to know.

The Seekers came from another realm- a dark one. She didn't know its name, but it was a place they created themselves. Because of their actions, they were tied to the place. She knew they were able to cross over because of black liquid. She knew what the liquid was…blood. She also knew they were looking for someone.

Genesis wanted to help them. Some inner part of her being connected with them. She wanted to help them find what they sought. Genesis didn't want the Sentinels to know this. Why, she wondered. Why did she want to help those working against the Sentinels? Genesis was starting to hate that word…why. It was always in her head. Genesis wanted to kill herself, but she was pretty much dead. She found that funny. It was just her luck.

She heard the whistling before she saw him. She knew the tune now. She'd heard it before. She followed the sound around a giant crypt.

He was leaning against it, whistling the familiar song. In one of her flashes a boy had whistled that same tune. That day in the street when she attacked Anthony; a lifetime ago, the sound was there. Now, she knew that boy was Silas.

He was facing away from her. She could see he held an object in his hand.

"I told you it would come back."

"How did you know?"

"I just do."

"Well, some has come back to me, but not everything."

He moved closer to Genesis. "We have a history, you know. I'm not going to lie and say it was pleasant."

"That doesn't surprise me," she said wryly.

"No, I guess it wouldn't," he said.

Silas was somber, and in the few encounters she'd had with Silas he was never somber. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

The somberness vanished. "There was a time when you thought I was quite the catch."

She rolled her eyes. "That's a vain assumption to make, Silas."

As soon as she made the declaration, lightning struck. Her mind opened and information flooded in. Her eyes narrowed on his mark.

"Vain, you're vanity, Silas!"

He ran his finger over the mark on his neck.

"Yes," he confirmed.

Genesis didn't hear him. She was moving to and fro with the heels of her hands pressed against her head. The information was coming fast like shards in her mind.

"You died because of it, didn't you?" her voice rose.

She shook her hands as if they were numb as she continued to pace.

"Thierry, his mark, rage- its rage isn't it?" she stopped for Silas to confirm her suspicion. He nodded his head.

She thought of Mae's room. All the locked boxes and scattered coins.

"Greed," she said aloud

"I would use a different word to describe Mae, but greed is fitting too."

Kai. She squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn't make out his mark. All she saw was water- dark water.

"I can't remember Kai's mark. There's a reason. What is it?" she demanded.

"Soon."

"No, now" she insisted.

Silas didn't react in any way. Instead, he opened his hand, "I want to show you this trinket. Maybe you'll want it."

"I don't want a trinket," she said.

"You might change your mind," he said.

To shut him up, Genesis obliged. It was a locket; a lovely, old locket. She knew that locket. In her mind she saw it around another girl's neck. The girl Genesis now knew was her sister. It belonged to Lilith.

Genesis took it out of Silas's hand. It was heavy, and as soon as she held it in her palm the world split open right in front of her eyes. A picture began to play.

She was back, yet again in her human life. She watched the picture play, and it played with such clarity. Lilith was bursting through the door of their house. She glowed with excitement. Her mother rushed over to see what Lilith was gushing about. Her mother bent closer to admire what was hanging around Lilith's neck. A huge smile lit her mother's face.

Jealousy, it cut deeper than any blade. Black jealousy. Not because her sister had a locket; Genesis didn't like jewelry. She was jealous over who gave Lilith the locket. He gave her sister the locket he promised to give her. That liar. Silas was a disgusting liar.

Day after day, Genesis had to listen to her sister brag about the locket. Day after day, Genesis was confronted with the knowledge that Silas chose her sister over her. Day after day, her hatred of her sister increased. Then one day she decided the locket was hers.

Weeks later, Genesis saw herself creep up the stairs to her sister's room that night. It was late, and Lilith was asleep. The locket lay on the dressing table. Genesis picked it up, fastening the chain around her neck where it belonged. Just as she was closing her sister's door, she saw movement. Her mother stood there. Genesis turned to face her with shoulders squared. Her stance dared her mother to say anything. Of course she did.

The argument that ensued was heated. Her mother called her a thief- an embarrassment. Genesis shouted that the locket should be hers. Silas promised it to her. Her mother laughed until her face turned red. She teased Genesis by telling her no one would give her such a gift. Its elegance would be wasted on her. Genesis knew her mother was referring to the scar marring the side of her face. Her mother said Silas was just taking pity on her by promising such a jewel. That locket was meant for Lilith.

Her mother lunged for Genesis with the intent of yanking the locket from her neck, but Genesis shoved her with all her might. She didn't see how close they were to the top of the stairs. Her mother lost her balance and fell backwards. Genesis watched her make her deadly decent down the stairs. When her mother landed, her head was twisted at a distorted angle. Genesis knew she was dead.

Her feet made no noise as she made her way down to where her mother lay. She stood over her mother's body. Genesis bent down, took the locket from her mother's lifeless hand then stepped over her body.

The picture playing in front of Genesis's eyes came to a close. The screen went blank, and Genesis was back in the present. Back from that night that occurred so long ago. She looked at the locket then threw it into the dirt.

She ran. Genesis ran and ran. It seemed she couldn't run fast enough. I killed my own mother. It was an accident. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. But Genesis knew she killed her all the same. Genesis wasn't running because she killed her mother. She was running from the morbid conclusion that she didn't care.

Silas remained in the same spot. Genesis didn't hear him say, "I told you our history wasn't pleasant."

FOURTY

Genesis collapsed onto her hands and knees. She felt softness. It was the first thing she noticed. Underneath her hands she saw white. She was afraid to stand up. Worried about what new nightmare awaited her.

Genesis, her name was an echo on the wind. She shut her eyes, because she didn't want to look. Then cursed herself because she was no coward. She got to her feet. Everywhere she looked was white. It was snow, and it was immaculate. Not one blemish tainted its perfection. It was nighttime. She saw a throng of trees that burst with color. There were flowers cascading over the trees. Genesis never saw such flowers or such colors. Snowflakes clung to their leaves as swarms of lightening bugs weaved in and out of the branches like glowing flecks of light. Breathtaking was the only word Genesis could think of to describe the scene surrounding her.

Genesis, she heard her name again. She turned, bumping into the figure standing right beside her. He was dressed in white. His clothing was loose, and his feet were bare. He didn't have any hair, but it didn't look unusual. It suited him well. Genesis judged him to be about her age. His eyes were silver. He is just like the Sentinels. Strange but appealing all at once.

"Do you know what I am?" he asked.

Genesis noted he said what and not who. She gave no response.

"I'm going to be straightforward with you, Genesis. I'm your conscience."

Genesis stifled the urge to laugh. She blinked. "I'm sorry, my what?"

"Your conscience," he said matter of fact.

"Oh, sure, of course," she derided.

His silver eyes didn't waver.

"My conscience just happens to be a bald, handsome guy. Sure, why not."

He stayed still.

"This is just great," she mumbled.

"It is great indeed, Genesis. Since this is the first time you've acknowledged me in many years."

Genesis folded her arms. "Are you telling me my conscience is a person?"

"No," he laughed. "I'm not a person, but you're not a person either or we wouldn't be here. Humans can't see us they can only hear us. Whether they choose to listen is their choice."

"Us, you mean there are more than one of you?"

"Certainly. Every living soul has one."

"Why am I here?"

"As I just told you, you aren't human so you can see me. Another reason is that this is the first time you've acknowledged me since you've died and become what you are."

"What did I become?"

"Let's walk," he said.

They strolled in companionable silence for a while.

Without turning to her, he said, "You remembered killing your mother."

"That was an accident," she snapped.

"I know that Genesis. I see all you see. I live in here," he tapped his chest.

"You mean you live in my mind."

"No, the mind doesn't make these decisions. The heart does."

"Explain."

Silver eyes answered. "The mind is logic. It makes practical, logical decisions. Sometimes illogical and unpractical that's true, but then again they're only human. Now, the difference between right and wrong; that is made from inside you. It has nothing to do with the mind."

They continued on.

"That night when your mother died, you didn't care. You were filled with anger, so much envy. However, when you remembered just now it was not the same. You accepted you were responsible for her death. You owned some responsibility for it. And, your conscience," he gestured to himself, "bothered you."

"It didn't."

"Yes it did. That's why you ran, Genesis. It's also why you didn't take the locket. You can't outrun things. Accepting your actions and coming to terms with them is what you must do."

"I killed my own mother. I have accepted that," she contradicted him.

"Ah, but knowing and accepting are not the same thing."

"I don't understand."

"It means accepting what you did was wrong, even if you feel it was justified. Inside, you feel the death of your mother was justified because of her treatment of you. I agree, she was despicable, and I don't blame you for your hostility. But, have you accepted your part in any of this?"

Genesis let her gaze drift over to the trees brimming with lights.

"I don't think I was very good when I was alive."

"Define "good"."

"You know what I mean. A person who does good things. A person who doesn't hurt people."

"No such person exists, Genesis."

"That's not true," she said.

"All humans have flaws, and all people are capable of doing hurtful things. And every human has done hurtful things. There is no debating this fact."

"Yes, I realize that, but some things are worse than others. I am responsible for the death of my own mother. It's not like I just told a little lie."

"And you don't believe lies can be deadly as well?" he asked.

"You're not serious? Of course not, not even close."

"The locket was a lie."

"I beg your pardon."

"You know the locket was a lie. Silas never intended to give you that locket. He wanted to see you and your sister fight over him. It appealed to his sense of pride, vanity if you will."

"Yes, I know that now," she confessed.

"It was just a little lie was it not? But look at the chain of events it triggered. Events that were lethal. Don't you agree?"

"I didn't think of it that way I suppose."

They traveled a little further. Genesis held out a hand to stop him.

"Then, what you are saying is that no one is good."

"Ugliness lurks inside all of us, Genesis."

"That's depressing."

"But it really is not. You see, what separates the good from the bad is not the fact that good people always do right. That's a big misconception. What makes them good is that they try to do right. All of it lies with the intention. Do you understand?"

"I think so," she said as she watched her feet make tracks in the snow. "I still have a lot to uncover, don't I?" It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"And it's not good," she said taking a deep breath.

"Most of it, no. But take care, Genesis. What do you think this place is?" he made a sweeping motion with his hand.

"All I know is that it's stunning."

"It's you, Genesis."

"What did you say?"

"It's you," he repeated. "This is the part of you that remains pure, good. The part of you that wants to remain good."

Genesis didn't think anything this beautiful had to do with her.

"For the longest time, you were with him." He lifted his hand, and Genesis followed the direction of that hand. At first, she saw a stream. Its surface was crystal. Golden rocks shimmered beneath the surface. It was as if someone scooped a handful of stars from the sky and submerged them in the water. It glistened. She wanted to touch it, sink her hand into the glistening water. Just once- one time.

"Go ahead, it won't cause any harm. Why don't you wade all the way in because the water is refreshing?"

Genesis lifted her head to locate the source of the voice. It was coming from across the stream. She was sure her eyes were deceiving her. There stood the most handsome boy ever created. He was perfection. There was no other word that fit him. But it wasn't just his looks, it was his allure. Waves of allure that made it difficult for Genesis to resist his invitation. Why am I resisting?

Genesis started to dip her foot into the stream.

"I wouldn't cross those waters if I were you."

Genesis turned to laugh at him, but silver eyes remained serious.

He annoyed Genesis. "Why not?"

"The waters are dangerous."

"Oh please," she said. "It's magnificent."

His silver eyes held hers. "That means it's not dangerous?"

Genesis stood with her foot poised over the stream. "You honestly believe this is dangerous?"

"You doubt me because of its appearance. I understand. The forbidden is always the most appealing. You remind me of a human. They think this way. Humans think evil, if you will, has to look the part. They create monsters with fangs, claws, hideous faces… the whole lot. The worst nightmares come in the guise of beauty. Real evil doesn't hide in corners or closets. It hides within."

Genesis put her foot back into the snow. She eyed the boy across the stream.

"Who is he then?"

"Observe with careful eyes, Genesis. See what lies behind the façade."

Genesis did what he said, but what she saw was pretty good. As she continued her observation, she noticed a change with his hair. A minute ago, it was full. But now it was thinner. Right before her eyes his hair withered away. His skin shriveled. His physique which seemed strong, became stooped and frail. Genesis felt her mouth drop open.

The stream changed as well. It was tar, bubbling, boiling tar. She recoiled as she saw hands, so many hands reach up through the surface. The fingertips were razor sharp.

"Don't be frightened," Genesis met silver eyes.

"Who is that?" her voice quivered.

"That's Wayward."

"That's his name?" She was incredulous.

"No, that's what it is. Now, brace yourself, Genesis, because that is part of you as well. At one time, you were very close with it-with him."

"I was close with that…with him?"

"Yes. You know that voice inside that tempts you- that's it. He likes to lead people astray. But, it's only with your consent."

Her legs felt weak, so Genesis sat down in the cushion of snow. Silver eyes came down beside her.

"It's unbelievable, I know. But you have to stay strong. Decide which side of the stream you will stand on."

"I'm afraid," Genesis hated to admit.

"I don't blame you. Your journey has only just begun. Your trials haven't even started yet, and you must pass these trials, Genesis. You must. You cannot fail," he stressed.

"I'm afraid," she said again. "I feel as though I'm in the middle of an important test, only I don't know what the test is."

"You're in the middle of a war," he corrected. "I'm sorry to say that you are the main weapon."

Genesis bit her lip hard to distract herself because she wanted to cry.

"What if I don't want to be?" she asked.

"You don't have a choice. I will tell you this though. You are going to go through seven trials, Genesis. Seven trials, and there will be irrevocable consequences if you fail."

"Why seven?"

"That's how many there are. Each one deadly. During that time, Wayward will be very busy. Just listen to me," he winked. "You won't go wrong."

Her mouth curved. "So, what should I call you? I don't want to call you "conscience". That sounds ridiculous."

"What do you want to call me?"

"I don't know. An easy name," she stated. Genesis let her eyes roam over his face.

"C. I'll call you C."

"C it is."

FOURTY ONE

Pike was uneasy. He was more than uneasy. He'd just crossed over a few hours ago, and this is where Silas wanted to meet with him. He glanced around. There wasn't a soul in sight. He heard the clanks from the broken, rusty Ferris wheel. This place was once magnificent.

Even though it was dilapidated now, the remains of the ghostly carnival were a testament to its glory days.

Pike was alert for any sign of hawks. Silas warned him Mae sent her hawks to patrol this area. Pike didn't know why because the area was nothing but hills and withered grass. Why Mae would be concerned about an abandoned carnival was beyond him. Mae was sure to be livid about him being here. Pike cackled and clapped his hand over his mouth. He had to be quiet.

"I told you that irritated me, Pike."

Pike shrieked as he spun around. Silas sat in one of the intact swings. His arms were bent with each elbow resting against the swings, rusty chains.

"How long have you been there?" Pike asked him.

"A while," he said.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I was watching you."

Annoyed, Pike asked, "Why?"

"Because you're a moron." Silas sprung up off the swing. "But, a dependable moron it seems."

He moved towards a small hill, and walked until he stood on top of it. There was an electric energy about him today.

"Silas, why are we here?"

"I thought it would be fitting."

"I don't understand."

He chuckled. "Of course you don't. You will all understand soon. Mae, thinking she could keep this place hidden from me."

"Why would she want to do that?" Pike was perplexed.

"Mae hid something here thinking I would never find it. Thinking no one would find it, but she was wrong."

"Find what, Silas?"

"The integral piece of the game. Oh, the game has just started. All the players are lining up perfectly. I've been planning this for a long time, Pike. No one can stop me- no one." He nodded to the sky. "Not even Him."

Pike dropped his gaze. "Silas, you shouldn't challenge Him."

"But I did challenge him, and he challenged me in return."

Pike was afraid to move. "Silas, don't say that."

"Are you scared, Pike? Are you afraid to say his name? I'm not afraid. God," he yelled as he spread his arms wide. "Yes, God, I'm talking to you. See," he smirked, turning back to Pike, "I'm still here. No poof," he laughed.

"What are you doing, Silas? Sentinels serve Him."

"No!" his response was harsh. "They serve him. But I, I am going to prove Him wrong."

Pike remained frozen. "What can you possibly gain from proving Him wrong?"

"What I've longed for my whole life, and what I've longed for especially since becoming a Sentinel. What the hell was I thinking," he said. "Serve Him; serve mankind for repentance. I don't think so."

"Silas, be reasonable. There is no way to overpower Him. It's futile. Why even try?"

"I don't want to overpower Him, Pike. That's what's so brilliant about all of this. I'm going to beat him, but not by overpowering Him. I'm going to beat him by using what He loves the most. Don't you get it? Use what He loves most." He head tilted back as he spoke to the clouds. "He gets it."

Pike pointed out the obvious. "He will destroy you, Silas."

"No he won't," he flung out his arm in a gesture of defiance. "He could have destroyed me a hundred times over, but He hasn't. Why?"

Pike shook his head.

Why, Pike?" The question was urgent.

Pike didn't answer.

Silas smiled. "He wonders if I'm right."

Pike was mulling over that statement when Silas held out his hand. "Give me the vial." He removed the lid, and turned the vial upside down. Red stained his fingertip.

"What He loves most," he repeated as he ran his finger down an invisible line in the air.

The crackling began as the divide was breached. "Let the game begin."

FORTY TWO

She waited as the parts of her world fell away in pieces. She saw Pike standing there with Silas.

"Mistress," Pike greeted her.

"Why are you here," she addressed Silas.

"Why?"

"Yes, why?"

"I have something to show you."

"Do you?"

Silas reached into his pocket, and withdrew a small, oval shaped photo.

"Do you know what this is?" He held it in the air.

She focused as much as she could. It was familiar, but she didn't know its name.

Silas helped her. "It's a photograph."

The name struck a bell with her. "Yes, yes I remember now."

He held it a little closer to her. The photo was in black and white. The image was a tad fuzzy.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked her.

Mistress didn't care who it was. "A girl."

"Do you recognize her?"

"Should I?"

"Yes, you should. You can't tell from the photo, but her hair was the color of fire."

That didn't mean anything to her until an image flashed through her mind. Fire. Yes, she knew what fire was. What it looked like even though she couldn't see in color now.

"Her hair was red then?" she offered.

"That's right. Do you know her name?" Silas probed.

"I don't."

"Her name is Lilith."

"And," she was uninterested.

Silas was quiet.

Then, he went on. "Do you remember what color your hair was when you were alive?"

"No."

Silas fixed his stare on her face. "It was the color of fire."

She said nothing.

Silas reached once again into his pocket removing a second item.

He held out his hand. In his palm was the locket. "Do you recognize this?"

"No."

"You should because I gave this to you, Lilith. That's your real name. It's Lilith."

She reached out to touch the gem resting in his hand.

"Take it," Silas said. "Take it, Lilith, and remember what she did to you."

FOURTY THREE

Genesis's eyes snapped open. She was laying on her back among the gravestones. Why am I always on the ground? She decided to rest there and think about her interlude with C. It was interesting plus informative. How often does one get to meet their conscience? C showed her the two sides to herself. One was splendid. The other, well, she didn't want to think about that side.

Genesis made a decision. She wanted to be good. She couldn't change her past, but her future was another story. C told her to listen to him. She was going to take his advice. She was going to Thierry. She was going to find him, and help him any way she could. She was going to help the Sentinels. How she didn't know, but she would figure it out along with them. Genesis got up, and dusted off her pants. She headed towards the house.

Thierry determined it was time. The human body the Seeker possessed was sure to be rotting now. He would be able to smell the sickening, sweet smell Seekers produced. He took the sacred weapon out of its glass casing. Normally, Sentinels destroyed numerous Seekers weekly, but their numbers dwindled lately. Thierry knew why. They weren't being given their usual orders. Thierry was grateful for that. At least that kept humans safe from them. Thierry despised that part of being a Sentinel. He despised Seekers for making him do what he had to do. It was becoming harder each time. Each time he had to destroy a possessed body, it made him sick.

He went down the stairs, and over to one of the glowing orbs. He went straight to the one that sizzled, popping with light. He was going to find the Seeker through this one. The orb didn't fail him. The Seeker was in plain sight. Thierry took a step before his form disappeared into the small storm.

The Seeker stumbled and fell down. It slumped against the trunk of a giant tree.

"Gabe, my name is Gabe," it said aloud. He was not a Seeker anymore. He was Gabe. His body was deteriorating from the inside out. He knew it, but he was determined to stay alive. There had to be a way, and he was going to find it. He was just so tired. If he could just sleep, he was convinced his body would recover. He couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried his eyes never closed. They burned and ached. Gabe knew they wanted rest, but he could never sleep.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw white. The hue was otherworldly. They found him. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd known they would. Especially when he was in this condition. He staggered to his feet. He was not going to allow the Sentinel to kill him. He had tasted life again. He was going to do whatever it took to remain alive. The need spurred him on. Life was all that mattered. He wasn't paying attention. He wasn't being careful enough. If he was, he would have heard the soft fall of footsteps behind him.

Genesis rushed into the house, picking up speed as she neared the main room. She skidded to a halt as she saw Thierry vanish into a cauldron of light. It was sizzling, alive with electricity.

Genesis didn't care. She had to get to him. She had to get to Thierry. Without hesitating, she launched herself at the light, and felt her body pulled into the orb.

She landed in a roll. When she came to a stop, she saw woods. She saw him. Thierry. He was just a few feet away from her. His stance was firm. He had his feet planted apart. His back was to her. She got to her feet. She began to run.

Genesis went to shout his name at the same moment Thierry stepped to the side, raising his arms. He was wielding the weapon she saw earlier. The weapon that destroyed Seekers.

A form was kneeling on the ground slumped over. A form that was decomposing.

It raised its head just as Thierry was delivering the death blow.

The creature's mouth opened when it saw her. An expression of total disbelief came over its face. One of its arms stretched out towards her.

Genesis wasn't running anymore.

"Majesty!" Gabe screamed right before steel severed flesh from bone.

The head rolled until it landed at Genesis's feet. Even in death, the lifeless eyes remained fixated on their lost queen.

T0 BE CONTINUED