Chapter Nine:

Where The Wind Blows

(I really didn't like how I did the 'Sarina becomes an acolyte and starts being sociable and having fun like a normal teenager' chapter before… and it stumped me as to write the next chapter... so I'm taking artistic licence and redoing the previous chapter and the now chapter so that I don't ruin Shinis character. please bare with me as this may take some time and be repetative in places. Some of this is the same... Some of it isn't. I also want to apologise to Shini for not posting a review on her "Dark Roses" story for ages. My lap top with the review for the end of the last story is out of commission and I want you to have the whole thing in one hit. I will get it too you, it's just going to take a little longer than I expected. Other than that, please review, or flame, I like all responces to my writing especially if they are creative and constructive and helpful.)

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Sarina had been having a ball; not that she'd admit it out loud but she had been. James had taken her apartment hunting, and had helped her locate a place close to the centre of town and close to her school. Once she had a place to live James and three large and burly gentlemen; that didn't say much and seemed to communicate in a series of nods, grunts and 'yes Sirs' had escorted her to her childhood home. James had assured her that her father was not going to be present as they extracted her things and he had been as good as his word. She wandered through her old house unhampered, remembering where she had first discovered her mutant abilities, the kitchen drawer where she had taken the knife from, and the blood stain that looked alien on her powder blue carpet.

She found it strange to be back in her old room, it was a mess and her father had obviously ransacked it. Her rubbish bin contained traces of burnt paper and photographs and had she been the crying sort, she would have been holding back tears realising that her father had begun destroying her fond childhood memories. James politely waited in the hall with his hired goons as she packed the remainder of her belonging and clothes into boxes. She pulled the covering off the air vent in her room and pulled out her diary, the book that she kept her most secret and private things in. her darkest writings, her deepest thoughts and her most touching photos. She tucked the precious tome deep into a box full of clothes and sent a silent prayer of thanks to her chosen Gods that her most prized possession hadn't been destroyed. When everything that she wanted had been carried down and stacked into the trunk of James' car she took one last look around her room. Something drew her to the burnt trash can and she found herself on her knees sifting through the debris and charred remains of parts of her life. At the very bottom of the can she found a photo that had been taken when her mother was still alive, one of those family portraits where the parents and children dress up and pose and lie to the world about how happy they really are. A twisted smile drifted over her face, her father had been burnt out of the picture. She tucked the precious memory into a pocket and wandered back down the stairs and out the front door of her own personal hell, pulling it shut with an audible bang and listening to the mirror in the hall shake against the wall, one last dramatic exit, for old time's sake.

Once they had set up her old things in her new apartment James dragged her into every apartment furnishing store in the city and subjected her to eight hours of shopping. She mused that most of the staff that addressed them payed more attention to James; most likely because he was wearing a neatly tailored suit and looked like he was worth a million dollars, she was dressed in her usual scruffy blue jeans with the knees torn out on both legs, a blood red tank top and her military boots and looked very rough around the edges. James grinned and assured Sarina he was worth much more than a million dollars when she expressed her observation to him. She hadn't smiled which certainly didn't ease the anxious look on the face of the manager of the store they had chosen to grace.

By the end of the eight hours she was the proud owner of some of the most beautiful furniture she had ever seen, a beautiful four poster bed with customised black drapes that she could draw around herself at night and block the world from her thoughts as she slept. James also suggested a set of beautiful silken sheets in black and blood red to cover her new bed and extra sheets to fill her new linen closet. James, on a whim, had also purchased a stack of black fluffy towels to fill up extra space in the linen closet; he suggested to Sarina that he figured she liked the colour black. The kitchen cupboards were full of brand new Pots, Pans and crockery, and as a gothic twist on Wedgwood blue, the entire inlay on the crockery was black. Black and white mugs, a coffee machine, refrigerator, freezer and a million other things that James had decided that she needed. Couches, a dinning room table, beautiful hand woven rugs and book shelves were all delivered to her new apartment and James helped Sarina organise where each piece was going to be placed and told the delivery men where to set them up.

He had disappeared for a while, giving her time to get use to her surroundings, to shower and get cleaned up. Sarina dared to feel wonderful as she got dressed, pulling on a long sleeved black top and a pair of black pants, sweeping her hair into a bun and putting a spiked dog collar around her neck. James came back as she was applying thick black eyeliner; he stood in the doorway with his annoying smile on his face and a couple of brown grocery bags in his arms. "Hello Love thought I'd cook you dinner." She'd shut the door in his face and left him there until she had finished her make up, returning and waiting until he had apologised for calling her love, after that she let him in.

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Cathryn had been lying extremely low since the incident at Halloween. Keeping her head down and working incredibly hard. Not sleeping and not eating, but working and making other peoples lives better. This in her books was a good thing. It felt right to help other people while forsaking her own needs and wants. It gave her a good feeling on the inside and she needed to feel good. She felt that she had abused her powers as an acolyte, making John leap out of the window. She hadn't wanted to, and she knew that if she hadn't made him do it he could have easily raped her or worse. She didn't even understand his obsession with her. She wasn't all that special, or brilliant, and she defiantly wasn't worth obsessing over.

Cathryn Tear was officially depressed.

Even the staff at her club had noticed how she seemed to be abusing herself, how she would stumble to her desk after half an hours sleep and work twenty seven hours straight while consuming ridiculous amounts of coffee to keep her eyes open a little longer so that she could finish that one last file for the night. Falling asleep with her head on her desk and a pen in her hand, poised to write when she awoke. Looking in the mirror in her bathroom was becoming a painful waking ritual, the bags under her eyes were too deep, and the bloodshot whites of her eyes stood out far too much. Her auburn hair was unkempt and wild, but she insisted that she was ok. By midway through the week following Halloween she had perfected the art of keeping her voice on the phone bright and cheery, a task that she knew she could not have possibly done if the people on the other end had been in her office. In truth, she wanted to curl up and cry herself into the black arms of unconsciousness, but since her guilt ridden sub-conscious had turned against her and sent her horrific dreams she forced herself to stay awake. Knowing that when she was beyond tired and she didn't have the energy to crawl from her office to her bedroom, that her subconscious wouldn't have the strength or coherency to manufacture the nightmares that had been plaguing her sleep.

Then Sebastian rang.

She'd been awake for seventeen hours, her body was finally beginning to accept the punishment that she was inflicting upon it and was buzzing from the four shots of espresso that she had finished five minutes before. The phone rang, and since her secretary hadn't patched it through she knew that it was a member of the Hellfire Club. Setting her face into a bright and cheery grin that didn't reach her eyes she picked up the phone and spoke in a perfect and clipped English accent.

"Hello, Cathryn Tear, Acolyte, Queen of Hearts, who is this and what can I do for you?" it was a stupid greeting, and a horrible way to start any conversation, but she had to do it, she was required to do it in order to command respect from those that contacted her, reminding them that she had power over their lives and deaths.

"Hello Cathryn, this is Sebastian Shaw, Inner Circle, Black King, and I'm calling to arrange a face to face meeting to discuss this years Christmas festivities at Manners Manor." She stopped herself from sighing into the phone and pulled out her diary, the black and white leather bound one that… Emma… Cordelia… One of the Frost sisters had given her the previous year. She opened up to the present day and looked over her schedule.

"I don't know Sebastian I'm really quite busy. I don't think that I'm going to be available until the Eighth of November." He made an annoyed noise into the phone and she sighed, "I know... I know it's starting to get close to Christmas and I don't mean to inconvenience you by dragging you away from the important parties that you need to attend in the holiday season but I have been really busy." Her uncle made a confused noise and she could hear him flipping through the pages of his diary.

"Well Cathryn. The Eighth would be perfect." She sighed with relief happy that she had found a date so quickly. "Except for the fact that the Eighth was four days ago, what have you been doing to yourself?"

This caught her by surprise so she scrolled the point of her mouse over the clock in the corner of her computer screen, her computer cheerily flashed up the date and showed her that her uncle was correct, it was the twelfth of November.

"I've been incredibly caught up with work." Even to her, the excuse sounded lame. Her uncle replied, and he sounded worried.

"Cathryn, I know that it's been difficult for you, especially after Halloween and I know that I haven't been the supportive and loving uncle that I always am, but your losing track of time, when did you last get a good nights rest? Or eat something?" She sighed softly and knew that there was no way that she could lie her way out of it, but it didn't mean that she wasn't going to try.

"Well… I had a biscuit with my morning coffee, and that constitutes breakfast, and don't worry about not being there for me. I know how busy you are with Shaw Industries and Hellfire and dodging the assassination attempts that Shinobi keeps throwing at you, but I am taking care of myself."

Her uncle snorted into the phone, "you are not, when have I ever been a loving and supporting uncle? You need to take care of yourself. Now I'm going to come and see you tomorrow. I expect you to stop working when you hang up the phone, get something nutritious and healthy into your system and get a good nights sleep in an actually bed, not at your desk and not on the couch or the floor. I expect you to be bright eyed and bushy tailed when I get there tomorrow or I'll do something that you will not like." She heard the threat in his voice and decided to call his bluff, the stack of files in her inbox certainly weren't going to read and process themselves.

"Oh? And exactly what are you planning to do? Put me over your knee?" to her it sounded like the right thing to say.

"No… I'll call Jean-Luc Lebeau and let him know how well you're taking care of yourself." If he'd been in the room with her she could have seen the smug smile on her uncle's face. Cathryn knew that her uncle was serious, he'd only ever threatened her with ringing Jean-Luc once before and she'd called his bluff, two days later Jean-Luc and Tante had appeared in her office at the club and spent three weeks making sure that she ate and slept properly, by dragging her back to New Orleans and confining her to Jean-Luc's stately bayou manor. She sighed, knowing that she was beaten.

"Ok. I'm going to hang up the phone, wander down to the kitchen and order food, then have a shower and slip into bed, what time can I expect you tomorrow?" She kept her tone light, knowing that if she allowed Sebastian to know that he'd won he'd be impossible to deal with, but then by doing as he asked, he had won. She sighed again as he praised her choice and said his goodbyes. Ten minutes later she actually hung up the phone, having been finally dragged from her internal cognitive prose by the incessant beeping coming from the receiver.

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((And thats it for now.I will post the next part as soon as I've finished it!))