I didn't like chapter 10 so I've changed it (I thought of something better) and I've added more to chapter 9 to help build the story. I apologize for the lack of posting, but reality happens and working the hours I work lately has been kicking my ass.

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Monday morning was a beautiful day and it would have been better if Taryn wasn't stuck inside with the rest of her class while the other classes were having recess. When there was one bad seed in the bunch that loved drawing pictures of their Mrs. Melbourne their teacher with wild hair and rabid eyes and crooked teeth with monster misspelled underneath it was a contained event. When he started passing it around and eventually accepted a dare to tape it to the board for her to see when she walked in from procuring more supplies for a craft project then it became a monumental event that. And it wasn't cool to snitch. So while everyone knew who it was and without being given an anonymous chance to share with the teacher the real culprit, Taryn and her class were punished with silent lunch and no outside privileges. They were wasting away inside doing work when they'd much rather be kicking up dust and collecting sweat.

Mrs. Melbourne had plenty of busy work to fill the forty five minutes of play they were usually scheduled.

Taryn dutifully drew lines from one word to the corresponding picture looking over her shoulder to Jack the troublemaker occasionally. The sandy haired boy with small teeth and large eyes was the reason they were all sitting there in silence. He did bad things because he could and he mostly got away with it because he was bigger and meaner than the rest of their class. No one wanted to get on his bad side. One kid that snitched on him found sand in his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he ate a bite. And Jack wasn't afraid to hit girls because he'd tripped a freckled faced girl named Julie in the hallway on the way to class and laughed when she lost her tooth.

Her mother constantly warned her about the bad men in her life, which made her curious about the bad boys. Did they eventually become bad men? She didn't know because she was becoming even more curious about things like that and asking so many queries on a plethora of subjects her mother often got irritated from her barrage of questions. There was so much in this world to know and puzzles like Jack the troublemaker that bothered most of all.

She turned to look over her shoulder again and this time Jack's hazel eyes were waiting. His red lips were pursed in a scowl and his cheeks were red like he was angry. She turned away quickly and then looked around the room, but no one had noticed. Their teacher was doing work as well writing quickly and with a lot of focus, she could raise her hand, but she wouldn't be noticed. Knowing that it was against the rules she decided to head over to her teacher's desk to get her attention.

"Mrs. Melbourne, may I go to the bathroom?"

The oval faced teacher with her hair in a signature hairstyle, a bun with tendrils falling over her ear and school bus earrings looked up. "Taryn what are you doing out of your seat?"

The girl explained that she needed to go the bathroom and then asked again since she wasn't answered the first time.

"Go back to your seat and raise your hand," the woman said slowly.

Taryn becoming frustrated turned on her heal walking awkwardly as she returned to her seat the need becoming urgent unexpectedly. She raised her hand.

"Yes, Taryn," her teacher acknowledged the hand.

The girl repeated her question for a third time.

"You may," Mrs. Melbourne gave her permission to go.

She took the pass to the bathroom walking fast to the girl's restroom. She didn't worry about Jack's gaze because she didn't see him glaring at him nor did she hear him ask Mrs. Melbourne to go to the bathroom as well and the teacher acquiesce giving him the second hall pass. When she was finished washing her hands she began drying them with a paper towel stopped in her tracks by the fat hand of a bully pushing her back inside. The boy's bathroom and the girls were right across from each other. Jack must have been waiting for her.

"Where you going stupid?"

Rage and panic warred within her, but fear was clearly written all over her face.

"I'm telling," she said as a comeback. "You can't be in here," trying to move by him and retreat to class. Where was a teacher?

He shoved her.

"Stop hitting me," tears began to collect and fall at the corner of her eyes inspiring him to call her more names and like 'stupid' and 'crybaby'. "Leave me alone," she screamed and he covered her mouth with his hand.

"Shut up," he whispered. If he got caught in the girl's bathroom he'd be in trouble. And he'd only wanted to scare her into remaining quiet. He knew that she was a sweet girl that teachers loved and who the Mrs. Melbourne would listen to and believe if she fingered Jack as the one who drew the picture. He didn't like getting in trouble. And she didn't like the looks she was giving him in class, in fact when she stood up to go to the teacher's desk he thought Taryn was about to tell on him. He got scared and he didn't like the feeling. More than relieved to hear her ask to go to the bathroom he took this as his chance to follow her to tell her don't tell on him in the only way he knew how, by force.

Taryn did the opposite of what he asked. She panicked pushing him away only to feel a surge of energy shoot through her and with a shove the boy was slammed to the wall and knocked unconscious. Taryn's hand was glowing and she stared at the alien phenomenon with awe and trepidation. What just happened? What did she do?

Her worry mounted when she heard the footsteps hurry in their direction. She was in trouble now her tears fell in earnest.

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In a relatively calm repose the dark skinned fae stared at her ceiling enjoying the throbbing in her hand more than she should. Pain always made her feel alive and normal; this she could share with the rest of the world even the fae world. She felt out of place when wasn't feeling it because it brought back memories of her torture. The things they had done to her, she shuddered, the horrors she witnessed at the hands of sadists she was on the verge of drowning in a dark place with the light of dawn showering her with warmth when she shot up from the bed and to look around the room.

She studied her surroundings and then focused on the burst of energy she felt seconds before. Staying still she attempted to recover where it came from discerning that it wasn't dark fae only to tap into the feelings of fear, worry, and confusion. Getting to her feet she collected the jacket she threw off unceremoniously startled by her reaction and more surprised how instinctive the fun of the hunt came to her. Before her exile and in the midst of her torture they experimented on her. Constantly used for spells and potions she was a mixture of good and evil and several other things that dwelled inside her scratching at the surface of her consciousness waiting to be let out to play. Much of the damage was on the exterior which healed quite quickly and easily under the care of the right fae. But she couldn't undo the things she saw or felt. It's inherent in all fae to sense their kind, but Tara's captors decided they wanted to go a step further and bind her to an unlucky man who went by Lennox. She didn't know his real name—she hadn't cared. The game was that she would feel what he felt that she would know his thoughts. Lennox was dark fae and with equally questionable morals as the people who kept her under lock and key. She was a prisoner in every sense of the word knowing Lennox in ways she wished she didn't feeling his urges as if they were her own and the satisfaction of sating those urges at the expense of someone who was just like her—a prisoner. This was the part of her that scared her people to be bound and thoroughly influenced by his evil was a nightmarish diet that concerned fae like Niall. Could she be trusted? Lafayette trusted her for some strange reason, but the rest of her clan wasn't as kind quickly forgetting her sacrifices. And now Lennox was back, it was him, and then she knew it wasn't because she'd killed him not long after Lafayette rescued her.

She drove as fast as she could without worry of losing the scent of the energy. It wasn't Lennox, but it drew her like a pull she couldn't escape while she tried to make sense of the connection. She remembered the day well when she found Lennox easily. Surely he knew she was coming after him when she found him shacked up in an out of the way cottage in Wisconsin. Which is most likely why he left her a gift of bodies to maneuver through before she found him in the basement of a cottage finishing off one last 'masterpiece' an old woman who was as random as the rest of the poor souls who crossed his path.

"You'll never be free of me," he gloated.

The incorporeal implications of his threat Tara could live with especially if she conditioned herself to deal with the nightmares. She wanted him dead—she wanted to stop feeling him because discerning hers and his was becoming a problem that resulted in her questioning her own reactions to his crimes. He was a menace in the fae world mostly contracted by the dark fae on desperate occasions called upon by an elder or two discreetly to deal with the heinous jobs that wouldn't fair well if it ever got out the light could match the dark's ruthlessness.

Tara knew she wouldn't be rid of him entirely when he was dead, but she killed him anyway on principle. Suddenly the out of the way cottage in Wisconsin was a godsend for her to realize the measure of her mercilessness. It took three days for her to get bored with him and she knew Lafayette still didn't forgive her for telling him what happened those three days in gory details when he made the mistake of asking her when she returned. He'd been easy to worry those first weeks after her return sensing the change in her before everyone else who was dazzled by the return of the hero and Tara was fine with letting them blindly welcome her. The lie gave her the freedom to explore her darker fae which she realized she enjoyed more than she probably should. Not to say the fae were totally devote to peace when they could get their hands dirty. It was the fact that they lived by a code and lines that weren't allowed be crossed were extremely hazy in the days leading up to her exile by Niall under his reservations and the advisement of his elders. It began with Lennox unfortunately it didn't end there years later which had her curiously sitting in the guest parking lot of a elementary school.