"Oh, my God! What happened to you neck?"

After taking the liberty of letting herself in Sororya's small but sumptuous, two bedroom abode, Aleigh flopped down on a white, leather, plush chair, covering her ears with her hands. "Dang girl, try to be a little louder next time. I think I can still hear out one side."

"Come on, I'm serious!" Sororya perched herself on the arm of a couch that came from the same family as the chair. "Spill it."

Aleigh blushed while playing with the tassels of a blue and purple swirled pillow that accented the chair, remembering last night's encounter. "Nothing."

"Nothing?! What do you mean nothing? It's like a wild animal sank it's claws into you!"

"No it wasn't Sororya." Aleigh rolled her eyes at her friends hysterics. "It was a Daimon, not an animal. And he just got a little nip, nothing much."

"Ah, ha! So I was right. You were attacked by a wild animal. I knew I shouldn't have let you go home alone."

"I can take care of myself."

"Tell that to the chunk that was taken out of your neck!" Sororya pounced off the couch arm and started pacing. "Man, I should have listened to my instincts. Our instincts are never wrong. I disregard them once and look what happens? You get mauled! By Daimons!" She shook her head and looked towards Aleigh. "I'm not letting you go home by yourself anymore."

Starting to get angry, Aleigh gripped the pillow in her fists, hearing tiny ripping sounds of the protesting fabric. "I don't need a babysitter. I've dealt with Daimons before and I have a black belt in hapkido."

"A lot of good that did you last night."

"I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself."

"Maybe you can, but I am still an Arcadian, and therefore naturally stronger than you. Plus I have the decades of training required from my pack and increased healing abilities. I have more of an advantage to being out alone. You don't. So consider me your newly acquired nightly escort. "

Jumping up from her seat, Aleigh turned towards her friend, pinning her with an angry glare. "Just cool it, Sororya! You might be Arcadian, but stop acting so superior. I. Am. Fine. The Daimon barely got a nick off and I was milliseconds away from initiating the voice distress signal on my phone. Had it not been for my rescuer, Ash would have been there to bail me out anyways. " Sororya opened her mouth to speak, but she pressed on. "And while you might be stronger than me, have you forgotten that Were-Hunter souls are like ambrosia to Daimons? I can only imagine what it would have been like if it were you instead of me! Besides, I think you're forgetting the fact that I can't die."

Sororya's head jerked up at that. "Yes, you can. "

"Maybe physically…"

"I know you always come back." Sororya's voice lowered as she hugged her friend. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt each time it happens. If not you, then it hurts us."

Aleigh returned the embrace. Sororya was right. She had been with her for a long time. She knew of Aleigh's curse, and still stood by her. It was selfish to think that she wouldn't be affected by it.

"I'm just worried about you, Aleigh. I don't mean to sound so pushy. "

"I know." She touched that bandage on her neck. "Thanks."

"So…," Sororya jumped back to her perch, eyes bright, previous mood pushed aside. "Rescuer? Was it they who fixed you up? Who was it?"

Images of last night flashed into Aleigh's mind. Images of a gentle hand, so contradicting of deadly black eyes. "No one."

A long smile worked itself across her friend's features. "Liar. And by the blush on your face, I'm betting it was a guy." Sororya watched her friend as a silence grew between them. "Was he hot?" That blush deepened on her cheeks. "Cookie?" No response. "Donut?" Nothing. "Powdered donut?" A shift in the eyes. "Oh, my God! You meet a powdered donut and didn't tell me before now?! Was he a Dark-Hunter? Did you get his name?" Sororya stared at Aleigh's drooped expression. "You didn't get his name?"

Aleigh shook her head in embarrassment. "I was a little…preoccupied last night…and he wasn't a Dark-Hunter either."

"WHAT?! You meet a guy that hot, who isn't a soulless henchmen, and you don't even get his name?"

"What? It's not like I'm going to see him again."

"You don't know that." Sororya's eyes widened with impact as what Aleigh just said sank in. "You were what last night?! Oh girl you have to give me all the juicy details." She slide off the arm of the couch and sank into the cushions, squeezing onto a pillow that matched the one Aleigh held on to earlier. Bright eyes sparkled like the sun skimming on glacier pools as she stared at her friend in anticipation.

Aleigh sighed and sank back into the chair. There was no getting out of this now until her friend had the whole story. "Where would you like me to start?"

"At the beginning of course! How did he save you? What did he look like? Where did he take you? He didn't hurt you did he? Well…obviously not 'cuz he patched you up…but if he did I'd have to hunt him down and kill him. And what a shame that would be! Taking out a powdered donut. Well if he's as yummy as I imagine him to be, taking him out wouldn't be such a bad thing. Take him right out of this world and into your bedro-"

"Oh, my God, Sororya! Stop!"

Sororya looked over at her laughing friend. "Well what else are you supposed to do with donuts if not eat them?"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"I'll shut up."

"For once," Aleigh muttered jokingly. She moved quickly to the side of her chair to dodge a now flying pillow. Still laughing, she swatted at her friend. "Alright, alright I'll tell you!"

Sitting back in the chair, she rearranged her pillows and began her tale. She told her friend of how the Daimons came upon her, how they attacked, and how she didn't have any remembrance of the fight, much to Sororya's disappointment. She recounted waking up in his lavish apartment and smacking her head into his. "I think I still have a lump," she said running a hand through her hair.

Sororya laughed. "That is too funny. And he still fixed you up real nice. What did he look like?"

"Well…". Aleigh closed her eyes to see the mental image more clearly, not that his features weren't burned into her brain already. "He was tall, maybe six two, with long blond hair that was cut close around the base of his head. His eyes were so dark they looked black. They were framed with long lashes, even at the bottom so he looked almost like he had eyeliner on. Straight nose. Full lips that had only a slight cupid's bow. He was lean but fit and had a very relaxed aurora about him. He was such a tease though! And he drove a reeeeally nice motorcycle."

"Ugh," Sororya groaned as she flopped back across the couch. "I can't believe you didn't get his name. Or even a phone number at that!"

"What was I supposed to say? 'Excuse me Mr. Bodacious, but I think you're really yummy. Can I have your number so I can show you off to my friends?' I mean, come on now, get real. Besides, like I said, what are the chances of my getting to see Mr. Donut again? Like one in a hundred million?"

"Hey, you never know. You could walk right out this door and find he's the new neighbor moving into the house across the street."

"The Fates aren't that likely."

"Who knows? They're an unpredictable lot."

"Speaking of walking out the door," said Aleigh, rising from her chair. "We need to go meet up with Ash."

The entire way to the coffee shop, though she and Sororya spoke now and then, Aleigh kept mostly to herself. Black eyes haunted her thoughts.

She had met him before, she could feel it. The sense of recognition was strong, but trying to remember the exact time was difficult. Too many years have passed, but for some reason, she remembered him. The sound of his voice, the color of his hair, his height and imposing yet carefree nature. But so many things were different too. But what, she couldn't remember. Now, the only real question was, did he remember her?

"Aleigh, the space aliens have landed and have declared the purple people eaters dictators of Kuwait."

Aleigh shook herself from her thoughts. "What?"

"I've called your name like five times already. Are you coming or what?"

Sororya had already gotten them there. Well that didn't take long. As the two entered the café, the smell of coffee and the sound of laughter filled the atmosphere. Sunlight poured in through the glass windows, giving everything a light and a warm appearance. Lightly colored caramel tables with checkered patterns in their centers were scattered throughout the room. Stretch couches, the same color as the darker squares on the tables designs, lounged in front of the windows. Snapshots with coffee themes adorned the walls. Low, energetic music played in the background, complimenting the lively chatter and whir of the coffee machines in a complicated symphony .

Aleigh's eyes fell to the corner nearest the fire exit. Like always, Acheron stood out in the crowd. Tall, muscular, incredibly handsome, and completely blacked out he was hard to miss. Huh, he had random orange highlights in his long black hair today. You could never tell what he would do next with those locks. His shades covered swirling, silver eyes, but Aleigh could tell when he glanced at them. Making their way over to him, they sat in the chairs that surrounded his table, Aleigh taking the one to his right and Sororya claiming the one across from him.

His deep voice resonated as he greeted them briefly. "Zan should be here in a few minutes."

Sororya threw her hands up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I thought Dark-Hunters couldn't walk in daylight without bursting into flames."

Ash rolled his head towards her slightly. "Yeah, so?"

"What makes him different?"

"Let's just say he has a few quirks."

With a huff, Sororya flung herself back in her chair.

Aleigh shot her friend an amused look. "What kind of quirks?"

Ash just leaned his chair back against the wall and smiled.

Of course he wouldn't answer her question. Why would he? The mighty Acheron didn't answer anything unless he wanted to. And even then the answers were so complicated you wondered why he even bothered to answer in the first place. After knowing him for so many years, you would think a girl would learn. But then, there was no harm in taking a chance, right? Aleigh sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. Focusing on the checker pattern of the table, she let all her other senses observe the surroundings. How she loved coffee shops. The atmosphere was joyous and friendly while the beverages were heavenly. She tried to think back to a time that didn't harbor java. It wasn't possible. True, there was a time near the beginning of her long life that didn't contain the beverage, but her mind would not allow her to remember those long, forgotten memories.

The sound of a bell indicated an arriving customer. And when she heard the legs of Ash's chair hitting the floor so he could stand, she could tell that the new arrival must be Zan.

With curiosity getting the best of her, Aleigh looked over at the illustrious Dark-Hunter. Like many of the others, he wore heavy black biker boot. Silver chains wrapped around them in a crisscross fashion. Black jeans with red seams were tucked down inside them. And, much like his boots, silver chains wrapped around his lean waist. They were threaded through his belt loops, snaking out of pockets, and hanging loosely off his hips. Metal links clinked together slightly as he walked. Or maybe strut was more like it? For it was more than a mere walk. He strode with purpose, thigh muscles flexing and releasing sinfully as he glided across the concrete floor.

A tight, black, sleeveless muscle shirt hugged his chiseled stomach and stretched out across a thick chest. Long arms hung loosely at his sides, swaying slightly with each step. Dark arm bands circled his thick wrists, drawing attention to large hands. The brand of Artemis, a double bow with an arrow pointing towards the upper right, stood out on his upper left arm, near the shoulder. A thick leather cord encircled a powerful neck. Aleigh could see there was some sort of design on it, but it was too small and intricate for her to tell what it was. Honey colored hair was pulled back into a high ponytail while the based of his head was shaved close, giving it a darker texture. Two long locks brushed his collarbones while framing an extremely handsome face.

And like all Dark-Hunters, his eyes were black.

Aleigh's eyes widened in recognition. Everything about him was the same except for the eyes. Eyes that had been warm and fun loving the night before were now cold and alert. They gathered in every detail, missed no movement. Surprised at having learned the identity of last night's savior, Aleigh jumped up and pointed a finger at Zan. "You!"

Sororya grabbed her friend's arm. "Aleigh?"

"He's the one who saved me last night!" Aleigh looked from Sororya to Zan, who acted like she wasn't there.

Acheron raised an eyebrow at his Dark-Hunter.

"She was in trouble," Zan replied. "Daimons attacked. I killed."

"And took home the spoils," Aleigh lashed. "In this case, me!"

Zan ignored her.

Grinding her teeth in frustration, Aleigh flung herself back in her chair.

Sororya looked about the coffee shop and noted the sunlight streaming against Zan's left forearm. "I don't get it. How can he be walking out in the sun?"

Ash surprised them all with an answer. "Because the things he hunts come out during the day."

"What does he hunt? Gallu?"

Zan shook his head before answering. "Reincarnations." At the puzzled look on both girls faces, he elaborated with a sigh. "Do you remember how Sunshine is a reincarnation of Talon's old wife Nynia?"

Both girls answered "yes".

"Remember how she could recall the memories of her past? That's not natural for reborn souls. When people "start over" they begin with a clean slate so to say. Whatever happened in their past life is wiped away so people may start again and not be under the influence of previous decisions and emotions. If souls got to retain the knowledge they gather throughout the years it could mean trouble. If a soul does happen to remember their past, I step in to keep them on lock down."

Sororya exchanged a look with Aleigh. "But why? What could be so bad about people remembering their past?"

"You forget that not all souls are human. There are witches, sirens, even Appolites and Were-Hunters to name a few that get reborn. Along with the memories come knowledge of their old power." Zan leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. "Let's say a Were-Hunter that dies hundreds of years ago gets a new chance at life. All of his psychic abilities or powers that he once had would be transferred to his new life, despite the fact that he may no longer have his animal characteristics.

"Sure that may not sound so bad, but sometimes when beings with abilities come back, they go rogue. The power tends to go to their heads and they don't use them in the most… profound ways, so to say. And Ash already has too much on his plate to worry about without having to think about reincarnates misusing old powers. So Artemis appointed me tracker, overseer, and possible eliminator of rogue souls."

Aleigh looked at Zan, arms crossed over her chest. "So how can you tell if someone is a reborn soul or not? That's a lot of people for guess work."

Zan rolled his head towards her, giving a droll smile. "My spidey senses start tingling."

She ignored his sarcasm. "Can you sense any reborn soul?"

"Most of them, though it's easier when they unlock their powers. It's like I'm a motherboard and each reincarnation that unlocks it's past is a new little light that pops up. My inner GPS allows me to track them, and later I can determine who is a threat and who is not."

"But what if they don't have any past power? What if it's just a human?"

"Those are harder, I'll admit, but anyone who has spent time on the other side gives off a special scent when they return. Most of the humans reincarnates behave themselves so I don't bother with them much."

Sinking further in her chair, Aleigh gave a small sigh while Sororya stared at Zan in amazement. "Whoa! That's so cool!"

Zan smiled at her despite his inner thoughts. With all the people all over the world it was hard to keep up with all the reborns. One of the nasty little side effects of his "gift" was something Acheron could identify with. Whenever a reborn soul unlocked their past, their thoughts were accessible to him. In order to determine which ones intended to use their power for evil, once they were unlocked, it was like someone was joining a conversation that already involved hundreds of people. It seemed like the whole Verizon Network was parading around in his head. After centuries of practice, he was able to dull the chaos to a minor roar, but that didn't mean it didn't get overwhelming sometimes.

One perk though was, whenever someone wanted to construct a destructive act, like plan a nuclear or terrorist attack, their thoughts were amplified tenfold, pounding their way around his head demanding he correct the disturbance. He had to zone in on the voice and track the light to the reincarnates location. Since a lot of people tend to act during the day, either in actual deed or thought process, he needed to be able to confront them during Apollo's hours.

He had paid a heavy price, bargaining with the god Apollo for access to the daylight world. And considering the prices the gods normally concoct, Zan was glad he was immortal to survive it…though at the time he had wished differently.

But the absolute worst part about his "job" is that he has to wait for the job to be completed before he can carry out an execution. As Acheron is always saying, people are free to make their own choices, it is the gift, it is the curse of free will. And with this choice comes the ability to alter the future. At any moment the future can change. Give someone the chance to make their own destiny. Should they choose the wrong path, then, and only then will they cast their demise.

Though Zan hated that rule most of all, there was a lot of truth to it. Throughout the millennia, he had seen many a people approach a critical crossroad and change their direction. Sometimes the thoughts of evil would arise, but the deed would never be carried out. He's even had his fair share of close calls.

While Sororya bombarded Acheron with more question and the girl named Aleigh tried to control her friend's enthusiasm, Zan's mind wondered off to a man who once lived in Turkey. In the man's former life, he had been a minor sorcerer with the ability to control lightning, and of course the power had carried over into his new life. Unfortunately, with this new life, also came anger management issues. Somehow, someday, someone had royally managed to tick the guy off, and of course, the man decided to challenge his offender.

Using his powers of teleportation, Zan was able to take himself to the reincarnate's position. Upon arrival, he was able to meet with the man and tried to reason with him to not partake in the duel. Unwilling to listen, the man barreled through Zan and marched up to his assailant, threads of electricity weaving through his finger. The clouds above that night began to swirl and crash in response to the man's calling to the lightning. So far gone was the man, that Zan was certain he would have to play executioner to another being. Standing aside, he had watched as the man and his opponent challenged each other.

Oh it was a bloody fight with fury and passion fueling their every blow. In Zan's eyes, every punch the man threw was one step closer to his demise. Should he call upon his power to end his opponent, to be cliche, it would seal his doom.

In one swift movement, the man was able to extract himself from his assailant. Jumping back, he raised his hand to the sky, focusing and channeling the energy needed to call the lightning. Before his adversary could move, the man unleashed his power.

Momentarily blinded, Zan was forced to hold off his killing assault. When his vision finally cleared, he took off towards the man, intending to full fill his duties but was short stopped. The man was walking away from his opponent with a nonchalant grace. No remorse showed on his features; nothing to betray his actions.

The assailant was lying on the ground, surrounded by blackened earth but remained unscathed.

A variety of emotions whirled through Zan that night. Relief that he wouldn't have to kill another human. Relief that the two and any surrounding audience were safe. Shocked that the man had unleashed his powers so close to his opponent. Angry that the man had even dared to use his powers in such a way. And thankful that the man had come to his good senses in the end.

In some cases, waiting for the last minute for a reborn to possibly change his or her mind about an act is a good thing. But more often than not, Zan has had to step in a play executioner.

No. It was not an easy life he lived. No matter how "cool" some thought it was.