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A/N: I'm sorry for the lateness in updating. With school, work, and auditions, I've been pretty busy. But I will start updating regularly. Anyway, as you know, I own nothing. Please R&R!

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Persephone tried hard to repress a shiver of disgust. Sylar was holding her close, his warm breath fanning her face and washing down her neck. He pressed his hands around her waist and back and Persephone stifled the urge to pull away. He'd only punish her; she had to remember that there were others at stake.

So she took in a breath, and attempted to distract herself with random thoughts of her mother, of her early years of training, of the stars at night, anything to not feel the press of his hands against the delicate skin of her back, or how he had begun running his fingers ever so lightly against her vertebrae.

He was prolonging this, she knew. He was intentionally provoking her; pulling hard at her strained nerves to get a reaction. She pursed her lips tightly, a determined glint filling her eyes. In that regard, she would sorely disappoint. She stared over his shoulder at the blank white wall opposite them instead, focusing with all her strength on its smooth, unblemished surface. She didn't even flinch when she felt the warm lap of tongue against her ear as it trailed down to the skin of her neck.

He chuckled, and she could feel her anger simmering beneath the surface of her cool façade. Then the walls began to tremble and move, shift and change, and soon she was surrounded by lush forests and the bizarre and exotic sounds of creatures her eyes had never seen. Sylar was still holding on to her, his hands lazily running along her back and she hurriedly pushed him away. She shook herself, determined to get the feel of his hands from both her body and mind.

He sneered, "That wasn't so bad," he told her, "I can't tell you how many women have loved being close to a guy like me."

She tried hard not to roll her eyes with disgust, "Yeah, and they're probably all dead."

He considered this for a moment, shrugged, and then said coolly, "You're probably right."

He began surveying their surroundings. "Well, where to now?"

She looked around. "Well, I'm going to need the things I've put away first."

He looked at her expectantly, "Well, I'm waiting,"

"I have to do another spell. Hope you don't mind," she smiled and it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"As long as there is not a repeat of the events before, I don't mind at all."

She turned and then unzipped the low-cut pocket of the sweats before reaching in and taking out what looked like a miniature bag.

"Exorbitus," she commanded and tapped the bag lightly before setting it gently upon the forest floor.

The bag seemed to stretch, pull and then grow in size. She watched as the large backpack took shape and then began unzipping the large pocket in front. She turned briefly and saw that Sylar was looking at her strangely, his face awash in an emotion she couldn't quite define, and yet it still disturbed her somehow. She switched her attention back at the task at hand and her hands curled around the string.

She pulled it out, picked up a small rock, and tied it to one end. Then she closed her eyes, and breathed in a steady rhythm. The rock began to twirl in a circle, first wildly then with precision, even as Persephone's hand lay stilled in the air. When she opened her eyes, she pointed south.

"There," she told him and quickly replaced the string into the bag.

"Minutius," she dictated and the bag shrank to its original size before Persephone slipped it back into her pocket.

Persephone turned and saw that Sylar was regarding her with that strange expression from before. He tipped his head to the side and said, "Persephone. Maybe I should take you apart and put you back together again after all."

Persephone shuddered and began treading through the thick bracken, her magic pulled against her protectively.

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