Disclaimer No ownership.

Wow... March 15? That means 3 days from a two-month anniversary of no updates!!!!!!!!!!! Aren't you homocidal? Don't you just wanna pin me to one of those medieval stretchy things and go to sleep with my screams as your lullaby?

Lol. Joking aside (i was JOKING) I really am sorry. Death threats (JOKING threats) have been piling up in my inbox XD

Advanced apology to The Fox Queen, because i kept telling her i'll be posting soon... that was about two weeks ago... o-O and i'll connect you as a beta in just a sec... I hope you haven't fired me... :P

That's it for up top. Read on to the the longest (14,654!!!!!!! Story alone!!!!) chap of my epic...


Chapter 19 (or whatever)


Jo met Lilah at the cemetery exactly 10 a.m.

Well actually, no. She was at the cemetery at 10 a.m. But she didn't see Lilah anywhere.

"Hey," she said when her three-wheeled, Piaggo MP3 pulled up the curb. She parked and placed one foot off her faithful Italian—Italian—ride and onto the green grass, peering up hill. "Lilah?"

The cemetery was a typical graveyard, though Jo couldn't see it from where she was standing. There was a section of concrete stairs that led up to the entrance arch. From there, yeah, a regular graveyard with headstones and plaques and mourning families and bouquets of flowers. Usually black.

Looking around, Jo saw no one but a boy and his father walking the uphill stairs. She leaned back on her ride and waited for her friend's head to pop out from somewhere unexpected—Lilah would probably try to scare her again. Maybe by swooping in from a tree somewhere. That was usually how the girl got her kicks. Not that Jo disapproved when other people were the victims.

But in this scenario, she was miffed.

"Damn." She said, walking and shaking her head to begin the long—actually it wasn't too long, but who cared if she exaggerated?—trudge up the stairs.

She didn't have time for hide-and-seek. She had work to do.

Reaching the apex of the stairs, Jo glanced around. The father and his son were already kneeling at a plaque close by. The little boy was holding a bouquet of pinkish-white flowers. He was rubbing his eyes.

Keep walking, Jo told herself, just keep walking.

Her sneakers touched the start of the grass, and Jo kept on. She walked past ailsed of the already gone, she walked past the paths to the trees, she walked past the middle of the whole cemetery. She could already see the point (literally. The end of the cemetery was a point. Like a triangle) where it ended.

The wind was dying down, and Jo was reasoning with herself about how to budget the day's remaining time. It's been five minutes. She clicked her tongue. The leaves had stopped rustling, the grass stopped swaying. Everything was quiet. This was a far part of the base, so she only heard her charm bracelet clank and her own footsteps.

She looked behind the tombstones that she could, and she looked at the nearby trees and even up their branches. She walked for what seemed like forever, telling herself that the plaques were just stones with words. They didn't mean anything. Not to her at least.

Quiet birds sat atop trees, safe in their nests. Holes in occasional mounds of dirt could easily be blamed on rabbits or moles. Grasshoppers and huge, mutant-sized crickets and lizards were resting on the taller stalks of grass. Hell, Jo could see a caterpillar and a stream of ants crawl up a tree's roots.

But she couldn't see that damn Clarke.

Oh, Goddess… where is she?

Cupping her hands over her mouth, Jo yelled out, "Liiilaaah!"

One… two…

Sighing and muttering, Jo whipped out her earphones.

Whatever. I may as well listen to music on my way back.

Something wrapped around her leg.

She was heading down to the warm ground in a second. Enough time to mutter a "wha—?" and realize next exactly who it was.

She heard her hands land harmlessly on the soft—thank Ceres—grass and felt a hand—she was sure it was a hand—tighten on her ankle before pulling her back and behind a bush. Her arms fell beneath her and before long the front of her shirt was soaked in dew, and some tall pieces of grass were tickling her face. She didn't fight. Actually, she almost keeled over in laughter.

She was dragged for all of four seconds before the hand on her ankle disappeared.

She turned to face her abductor. Jo couldn't really say she was surprised.

"You're such a witch, Clarke." Curse Ally for making her guilty about excessive cursing.

Lilah winked, some dark bronze curls of hair getting in her eyes. "Morning to you too, Quartz."

Jo scoffed, still trying to swallow some laughs. "You couldn't just text me that you were behind a bush? I wasted like ten minutes calling you. Couldn't resist ambushing me, huh?"

Lilah blinked, her knee-ripped jeans wrinkling as she brushed some dirt off. She looked over Jo's shoulder and her own quickly, though it was pretty obvious no one would be able to see them from this angle.

Finally, she asked, "Was that supposed to be a pun?"

"You mean with the bush and ambush thing?" Jo cracked a smile. "Sort of."

"Yeah…" She clicked her tongue, briefly standing to continue surveying the otherwise quiet and abandoned scene. "Didn't work."

"Like you could come up with any better."

"I can, actually." She nodded for emphasis. "But not now. We have a meeting to ambush."

A little silence.

"…God. That did suck."

She smiled at Jo, showing freshly brushed and whitened teeth before peering back up the bush. "Exactly."

Jo laughed. Lilah was something else. Being a spellcaster, the girl was good with words—she was popular. Jo couldn't precisely remember when they'd met but she was sure it involved a lot of laughing.

She started to mirror Lilah's moves. Which meant getting off her soaked butt and stooping and acting like secret agents.

Lilah signaled 'coast clear' with a dramatic wave of her wrist, and they quietly scuffled to the next covers: a big headstone and a tree.

Jo sat with one knee up behind the stone—thinking: R.I.P. and Hope you don't mind to whoever's grave she was on—and shook her head at the tall, wiry girl hiding behind the oak tree. Lilah had her hand up in a gun position. Both of the girls were trying not to laugh.

Jo counted out the signal this time, ducking and rolling before jogging for the cover behind a bigger headstone, with Lilah close behind her.

Their knees disturbed the dirt, scraping up some dust when they slid against the ground at the same time. Jo's shoulder hit the headstone, and bursting into a small fit of giggles, she and Lilah shifted so their backs were to the cold gravel.

This wasn't productive at all, but still, Jo had to admit—she felt really less stiff and cranky now. Too bad her stomach still hated her.

"You hungry?"

"I already know you're a witch Lilah. You don't have to show off your damned psychic powers." Okay. Well. Maybe she still was cranky.

"I'm a charm witch, remember smart-ass? I do have psychic abilities and I very much like to show off." She dug in her blue blouse pocket and took something out.

Quite frankly, Jo couldn't remember the last time she was so grateful to see a pack of gum.

Lilah shook her head as Jo licked her lips. "But this time, your stomach said it all."

"Here," Lilah gave the green pack to Jo before she had a chance to snatch it herself. "You need it more than I do."

"You can say that again."

"You need it more than I do," Lilah said without missing a beat.

Jo rolled her eyes, trying to break the stupid seal. "And I'm the smart-ass?"

She got the pack open with a quiet snap of torn tape, and her fingers were choosing her first minty victim when Lilah's hand stopped her.

"Wait."

Aww…

"What? What's the deal?" Jo asked, looking around. She didn't know the emotion that was stirring in Lilah's olive-green eyes. It creeped her out. "What?"

When she continued looking at her, Jo laughed for a second, trying to lighten the mood. She freed her hand and shook the pack of gum. "What. This isn't poisonous is it?"

Lilah blinked and scowled at her, a rare sight to see, "No. Listen."

Jo strained her ears. "I don't hear anything."

"Maybe it's because you have earphones on, stupid."

"They're not playing, genius." Jo almost forgot she was wearing them. At least she knew her iPod was still with her. She was going to keep them on, but with the look Lilah threw at her, Jo reluctantly freed her ears.

"Fine. Now what."

"Now we both shut up."

For two whole minutes, all Jo heard was the breeze.

"Lilah—"

"Dammit, Jo. Shut up." Lilah scooted to the edge of the stone, peering out. "They're coming."

Something was squishing against the grass. Distant footsteps.

"Who's coming?"

Getting closer.

"Who else?"

The footsteps stopped. On hands and knees, Jo crept over to see what was happening.

She almost did a face-palm.

It was just Ally.

"Lilah, it's just—"

"Shh. She's not alone."

"Wha—?"

"Shh."

Jo looked. She hated it when other people were right.

She should have seen the movement behind that tree.

But she did see the hand flailing around though. And then she saw the arm that was connected to it. Then she saw the face.

"Clarke—"

"I know who it is, Quartz."

She crept closer to the stone, chin resting on the smooth feel of it. "Then excuse me for stating the obvious."

Christy Ann Redfern. The black-haired, olive-eyed, ridiculously exaggerating girl talking to Ally was none other than Delilah Clarke's twin.

Yes. Twin.

Jo took an automatic deep breath.

Okay… a little memory refreshment…

Lilah was adopted by Daybreak when her—their—mom died, and unlike Jo or Ally, always knew that she was a witch. Christy, on the other hand, was raised as a vampire by the father. A real lamia. A Redfern.

They never knew they were sisters. Not 'till Daybreak found Christy two years ago, in an underground club. Once they saw her, there really was no question. Other than the color of their hair and their personalities, the 'twin-ship' was unmistakable. It was like Parent Trap revamped. Except this time, there was no tearful reunion. The two sisters have been tip-toeing around each other since they met.

And Jo never bothered asking about her. Not just because she knew it was a sore subject for Lilah—it was just that she really never cared.

But now she did.

She'd have to interrogate Lilah when this is over.

Ally's voice was barely audible. Jo had to crane her neck.

"—it's not going to happen."

"Yes," Christy had the silky voice of a vampire. She was trying to persuade Ally, "it has to happen. You have to make it happen."

Jo saw Ally shake her head. "I can't. Not yet."

Dammit. Can't what?

She looked at Lilah who shrugged an "I don't get it either"

"Alixia." The wind had picked up, and Christy's hair was a complete mess of tangles. She was smiling sweetly. It made her look more evil. "You and I both know this has to work. If you can't do it… well. We both know the repercussions."

Jo whistled as quietly as she could. "Aren't you proud?" she whispered, poking Lilah's head, "Your sister just used a big word."

Lilah slapped her finger away. "I'd be prouder if you shut up."

It wasn't a loud slap. But they were dealing with a vampire here.

Her dark curls whipped. Ally looked alarmed.

"What is it?"

Jo only caught a last glimpse before scurrying behind her cover. She could tell Lilah wanted so badly to say "I told you so."

Christy Ann was standing there, tall and pale and looking very much like a pin-pointing assassin. She resembled Lilah so much, with the frame and the features and the forest-green eyes. Jo had to constantly look at her friend's bronze curls beside her to be sure.

"Christy Ann." Ally was still waiting for an answer.

Jo was itching to see what was happening. But she couldn't peek without risking getting caught.

"It's nothing. Just the wind."

Lilah immediately covered Jo's mouth before she could say anything else.

"Look, Christy." Ally's voice. "I told you before: I'd get it done. And all you said was 'You'd better.' You never said there was a deadline."

"Then I'm telling you now. Warning you." Jo imagined Ally wringing her hands under Christy Ann's gaze. She heard Lilah mutter "bitch" and tried not to crack her knuckles. The wind was still steady. A cut leaf rolled by Jo's feet. Christy Ann's vamped voice minutely echoed through the cemetery.

"Am I supposed to thank you?" Way to go Ally. Stick it to her.

It took a while for a response. Like the girl was planning her sentence word for word. "I didn't have to warn you. I could have let you humiliate yourself, but I didn't. Remember. We're allies now."

Ally didn't say anything.

"The meeting with the Circ. is at sundown," Christy Ann continued, "they're expecting you in the same place. Debrief them. Don't say anything stupid and answer their questions. Don't slip about anything. And when you're done—"

"I know, okay? I know."

"Good."

Ally didn't respond.

"Get it done, Salud. You'll be sorry if you don't."

Two… three seconds in silence. And then…

Footsteps leaving.

Jo counted to five before silently moving Lilah's hand away from her dry lips. She inched towards the edge. She squinted.

Christy Ann was still there. And she was staring at her.

Smiling sweetly, she brought her index finger to her fang-toothed lips.

Jo had an urge to show Christy Ann her own finger.

Lilah pulled her back, though, before she could, mouthing, "She still there?"

Jo looked back out.

She shook her head, turning back. "Damn vampire speed. It's not fair."

"You sure she's gone?"

"I'm sure. Look—there's a bunch of dead flowers heading the other way."

"Very funny." Getting up and checking for certain, Lilah took a breather. "What do you think that was about?"

Jo used the stone to help her stand, not answering Lilah's question. She walked—shakily, she admits—towards the tree Christy Ann was leaning on. Making sure there were no ant trails, she placed a hand on the trunk. She felt the rigid plank of the wood. The bumpy rinds of the bark. Ally once said that if someone concentrated enough, they would feel the tree pulsing… like it had its own heart.

It was nice… a kind of relaxing spell.

"You going to answer my question?"

Jo sighed, opening her eyes and placing her hand back on her hip. "If I could, I would. But I can't. So I won't."

Lilah was twirling and pulling at her curls when Jo looked at her. "Philosophy doesn't suit you."

"It's not philosophy, for your information Clarke, it's a statement." She scratched her nose. She looked straight up. She listened to hers and Lilah's breathing, to the birds just starting to tweet. If anything, she needed clearance of mind right now.

"I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

She puffed her cheeks. "How'd you know about this? This meeting, I mean."

"I didn't. I just wanted to take a stroll with bodies beneath my feet."

"Well you don't have to be so sarcastic about it." Jo rested her back on the tree. "Really though."

Lilah shifted on her feet and clicked her tongue. "Well. When you asked me about Ally, I went to the herb garden." She tapped her forehead and grinned. "Smart. I know. I waited in a tree for, like, an hour before she came somewhere around 6 a.m.—as usual." She stretched suddenly, touching her toes, "And… she may have dropped her phone near the tomato vineyard."

"And," Jo continued, "you may have—accidentally, of course—forgotten to tell her before looking through her texts."

She grinned, cheeks lifting up as her nose touched her knees. "How'd you guess?"

Jo smiled. "Oh, you're good. But you returned it right?" Everybody knew that with the schedule Alixia Salud had, she'd be lost without that Chocolate Motorola.

Lilah was batting her eyelashes. She stretched her back. "Of course. That would be unethical."

"Of course." Jo repeated. "Did you know Ally knew your sister?"

"I barely know my sister."

"Right." Jo mumbled. Something's… wacky…

"The thing now though." She said. "Is what we're going to do about Christy."

"What about her?"

"Were you even listening back there? She's blackmailing Ally."

"Why it gotta be blackmailing?"

"Don't start the racist thing now, please," Jo groaned, "we don't have time. I'd suggest telling Petronella—you know how she loves Ally—but she hates me. Angora wouldn't have time—"

"Jo."

"—and neither would—what's-her-face? Your Senior?—Sally?"

"Sera."

"Sera. And Mathielle wouldn't even care—"

"Jo."

"And I know it'll suck to be a snitch and all but still—"

"Let's not do anything."

"But if we're too late, something major may happen…"

Lilah was looking at her funny, with her eyes bordering wide and her lips puffing out. Jo brushed at her bangs.

"What? What'd you say?"

She rolled her neck, placing her hands on her waist. "I said: Let's not do anything."

It took a second for it to process.

"… You're kidding."

"No."

"But…" she was kidding. Of course she was kidding. "Why?"

"Because we don't know for sure what's going on. And because we don't have proof. Everyone knows you need proof in a procedural cop show."

Jo's throat made a sound of disbelief. "This isn't CSI, Clarke." She jabbed her finger towards the tree, "You're sister was right here. Ally was right where you're standing. We know what we heard. Ally's being forced to do something she doesn't want to. The conversation took place just a few minutes ago."

Lilah stayed silent for a few seconds, olive eyes thinking and shifting. "Did you record the conversation?"

Goshdarnit. "No, Lilah. I did not record the conversation."

"Then I told you. No proof, no way."

She thumped her head back on the tree. "I don't like it when you're smart."

"I don't like it when you're stubborn."

Jo snorted. "Boohoo kachoo."

"So listen, I think we should keep quiet about this." Lilah suggested, sending Jo reeling. "We should just… lay low for a while. See how this plays out."

Jo pinched her nose, thinking. "Wait. Are you—are you trying to protect your sister?"

"No."

Jo laughed. "I can't believe it."

She saw how Lilah opened her mouth to protest. She cut her off. "Look. I don't care. You want to 'lay low'? See how it 'plays out'—?"

"—what's with the air quotations?"

Jo ignored her. "Sure. Let's have it your way. But you need to do me one more favor."

Lilah didn't say anything. She knew what was coming.

"Figure out which room the meeting's going to be."

She sputtered out something like a gurgle—even though they both knew she expected it. Bronzed eyebrows rose nonetheless. "Are you crazy? You can't just crash an Inner Circle meeting!"

"Why not? It's not like they'll kill me. Daybreak is all for compassion and understanding, right?"

Lilah clicked her tongue in that way of hers again. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, girl."

Leaning against the safety of the tree's trunk and shade, listening to its heartbeat, Jo laughed. She made Lilah's eyebrows go even higher.

Laughter still going strong, Jo managed to breathe out: "What else… is new?"


"Mare."

Mary-Lynette tapped her pocket.

"Mary-Lynette."

She twiddled with her cell phone's antennae.

"Holy crap. It's Ash!"

Her head whipped. "What?"

Lupe stuck out her tongue. "Only way to snap you out of it."

"Be nice, Lupe," Hannah said, though she was smiling, "It's natural for her to be anxious."

"I'm not anxious."

"Please," Lupe waved her hand, amber eyes bubbling with amusement, "you've got 'worried housewife' written all over you."

Mary-Lynette felt like an idiot. "If I'm anxious, it's because of this." She gestured to the carriage—a horse-drawn, very, very old-fashioned carriage—eager to defend her competence. "I know you think I'm a country girl—but this is a little over the top."

Hannah looked a little insulted. "Actually, this is very high-class in England."

"During Sherlock-Holmes's time. Maybe." Lupe winked. "I told you they were old-fashioned here."

Hannah "hmpfed." Mary-Lynette laughed.

And for a second, she almost forgot she was in a carriage with a werewolf, a girl who she just learned was reincarnated for the majority of human life (Old Souls, they said… go figure), and that she was waiting for a call from the witch nursing her vampire soulmate.

For a second.

Then she started twiddling her phone's antennae again.

"Mary-Lynette," Lupe complained.

"What?"

"You're doing it again."

She blinked. "Doing what?"

Lupe opened her mouth, saw Hannah's look, then shut it. She pursed her lips. "Nothing."

"She can worry about him Lupe. It's not a crime."

Lupe sighed, defeated, and she settled back on the very vintage leathered seat. "Yes, Lady." When Hannah turned her head to look at the tinted window, Lupe showed Mare her tongue. Mary-Lynette smiled. She rested her head against the window.


The sun beat down as hard as she expected. It was a Nevadan noon after all.

Mare placed a hand above her forehead as she opened the carriage door. She almost tripped on the one step to the ground.

"You okay?" Lupe came down next, ushering an already heat-flushed Hannah.

Mare gave a little crooked smile. "Yeah. Just a little clumsy."

"Mhm." Orange-tinted eyes searched hers, "You sure?"

She waved off Lupe's concern. Looking down, she realized that they were indeed on a sidewalk. To her right was a ledge—or hill side, she didn't know—with rocks and clumps of dirt jutting out everywhere beside the middle stair-wall. Entrances and signs were nowhere in sight, only an archway with winding roses (mental note: Daybreakers like archways with black and white roses). Other than that, there was no specific sign to state the fact that this was the land of the dead.

Land of the dead… she almost smirked, thinking: What would Nancy Drew do? Look for some grave robbers, maybe?

So she looked at the grass—not really acknowledging the fact that it was broad daylight and that only a stupid grave robber would be trying to rob the dead of the Daybreakers. It was all in good fun anyway—and actually saw some patches of stalks muffled and stomped on. She traced the wayward steps and found that it matched the barely-there, dirt-ridden scuff marks on the first few stair ledges… Then she looked around and noticed the moped/bicycle like-thing a way off the carriage.

She concluded that someone has been here. And still was—considering the sitting ride.

Then she looked at the sky, with the sun almost directly above, and she looked behind some dwarf hedge and up the cemented stairs. And for a reason that was beyond her understanding, Mary-Lynette took a deep breath. The kinds that filled your lungs with natural, sweet oxygen.

Except, amazingly, it didn't taste like natural, plain oxygen at all. Or the deceased for that matter. She could actually tell what it tasted like. It tasted like… a meadow. A meadow with some mushrooms and a spritz of tiger lily's…

She was going to share this with Lupe and Hannah until she turned around. Lupe was in the middle of smirking.

"What?"

"You sure you're okay?" Smirk was still in place.

She threw her hands up, her headband wobbling in her hair. "Yes, Lupe, I'm sure. Okay?"

"Lupe," Hannah raised a delicate hand to her birthmark, a darker pink than the rest of her skin, and nudged Lupe a little. Then she smiled politely and said: "The cemetery is up the stairs," to Mary-Lynette before making her way through the grass.

Lupe didn't stop staring.

Mary-Lynette was getting annoyed.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to hold her gaze. Then she tried walking away. Didn't really work out.

Lupe caught her shoulder and pulled her back. "No you don't." She pulled until Mare had no choice but to face her. She was a little taller.

"Here." She pressed a pair of sunglasses onto Mary-Lynette's palm. "We're in Nevada. The sun's not going to show any mercy to a drunk human."

Drunk? Shock… her cheeks were turning pink. "I'm not drunk!"

"If you have to shout something to make it true, it really isn't." Lupe winked and waggled her eyebrows. "And I didn't mean that kind of 'drunk' Mare. Not with alcohol."

Mary-Lynette tried hard to not get what she meant. So reluctantly, and embarrassed with raising her voice, she put on the sunglasses. And she made it a point to pull up her hood.

Then she and Lupe walked up the stairs.


There was a buzz in Ash's ears. He just thought it was the fatigue.

Damn Daybreakers. They wouldn't know a good meal if it literally bit them on the butt. The six antelopes and other grazing prey he wouldn't dare bother to learn the names for weren't nearly enough to satiate the thirst he had.

Forget morality, Ash wanted some real blood.

But, granted, the Safari—as they call it—had enough rugged terrain to wear him out. There was a meadow that smoothly transitioned into a… the forest of Rambo'sdreams, and there was enough wildlife to keep a zoo over-booked. Trees in here could have competed with New York's skyscrapers.

Ash's favorite (using the term loosely,) part was the mountains.

The mountains were to the West, tall and seeming to touch the clouds. He and James had run there, trying to catch a ram (which tasted like beetles and dirt), and Ash had noticed how the mountains could very well serve as a border. It was high enough to pass as a sky fortress.

He had sat down at a point, on one of the jagged boulders atop the ridge. He let James get the ram behind him while he looked for a route—any route that could possibly lead him out of this hell-hole.

Ash saw the Tower. The middle, needle-pointing tower that looked like it belonged to the city of Atlantis, and with his eyesight, he saw different paths leading to multiple exits and entrances. And with the memory of Poppy's knowledge, he knew what they used the structure for. Even little trivia about it. Like how it was enchanted by a spell that strengthens its build full-power. If an earthquake were to strike (which he doubted because, according to Poppy, the whole base was a dome of wards and protection) then that Tower would still be standing.

He saw the hospital, about North-Eastern, by the shimmering statuettes and Gothic windows. In the horizon he saw very small outlines of houses. Normal, plain, probably human-infested houses. And then some small outlines of a few chosen buildings to its right, his left. Must have been the City.

He'd have to stop by there soon. The only clothes he had were the ones he was wearing.

He had to pull back before James came back wiping his mouth, though, and had to comment on the view. Wouldn't want him to get any more suspicious.

After a few more runs at some really not-worth-it prey, James and Poppy decided that their little field trip was over, and Ash, being the prisoner he knew he was, couldn't help but loathe the going back process. Because really. It was the 20th century. Cars were all the rage in the rest of the world.

So they made their way back to the ticket booth. The same man from before stamped their tickets like he said he would and then told them to have a nice day. Ash didn't bother giving a second glance back as they walked out.

A breeze shifted outside and Ash tipped back his borrowed sunglasses, fixing it in place. The sun was up high, so it should be around noon.

"So are all humans that aware?"

Poppy's hair gave a flick as she turned back to him. She was in front, James at back. Both hell-bent on not letting him escape.

"Aware of what?"

"Us." He kicked a fallen pog with his foot. It hit Poppy, which made her glare at him and him smile at her. "I think I saw the human houses up at the mountain, if there really are that much vermin there, how did they all find out?" It was a piece of information Poppy had failed to verify.

She fell back a bit to let him walk nearer, and he saw her chew her lip. "Different ways. Some of them know some of us personally and chose to side up. Some others just went along for the ride. Most of them just want to live through this millennium."

Ash wasn't satisfied with that… "Why do they trust us?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer, Poppet."

"It's my answer. Because I really don't know."

They didn't talk much after that. Poppy got ahead of him again, and Ash was left to kick pogs and pinecones astray from the trails, James watching him and trying not to smirk the whole time.


Eventually, the trails turned into sidewalks. Much to Ash's confusion. It made him turn around and give James a "What in hell?" look.

"We're taking a shortcut." James very bluntly explained.

There was nothing Ash could do. He went along with it. His Reeboks stepping soundlessly (one gets used to walking like a vampire when one is one) on the pavement.

A few minutes to walk, a few minutes to think.


Hannah led them to a small patch of the cemetery. A newly touched patch. They must have buried the bodies already.

She waited for the other girls to catch up. Lupe was hanging her head ever-so-slightly. Mary-Lynette was rubbing her eyes behind a pair of sunglasses.

"Here it is." She said.

Mary-Lynette walked over, while Lupe came a little after, pausing a few times to look at some fallen friends. This was the biggest Daybreaker base there is, the cemetery here had as much memorials as graves. She could see a memorial over there, a stone marked by an angel with a blue sash. It was a gesture of remembrance to those who died in the Alaskan tsunami. There was a remembrance to the Chilean earthquake, to the Cleveland massacre, to the Dragon attack in Sweden that caused a massive avalanche…

Hannah knew, because she foresaw the building of the plaques herself.

It was a precious thing, she thought. Memory. In high school, all she wanted was to be a paleontologist. She loved history and it thrilled her to think of the past. What the people must have lived through, their culture. What the animals must have looked like, their species and their progenies.

Only when she heard of the Apocalypse did she realize: This was what was happening. Now is when history is being made. If they live through it, their present will be the whole world's past. If the world survives, somehow, somewhere, some-when, children are going to look back to this time and think: What would it have been like? Was it fun? Were the people nice?

History was being made at this very moment.

Which was why every moment counted.

Hannah bit her lip and straightened her black ironed shirt. She was staring at the most recent plaque. On it, it said:

In memory of the ultimate sacrifice made by one of our own-

Lonan Vasco

A raven in counter-agency, a Daybreaker, a friend

In memory of fallen enemy-

Leola Croan (puma)

And three others (werewolves)

And in memory of the event that brought their peace-

June 8, 1999

It was embossed in bright, vibrant gold. It was shaped like a typical headstone, except there was a raven, with its wings fully unfurled, sitting atop.

Leola's body should be under… a little to the right from where Hannah was standing. And from there, the three werewolves.

Hannah heard a sigh.


It was a sickening feeling. To know that someone was being placed 6-ft. under some pile of dirt for all eternity because of you. Because you killed.

A hand brushed her shoulder. "It was for self-defense," Hannah whispered, as if reading her mind. "It doesn't make it right, but it's the truth."

All Mary-Lynette could do was nod.

Lupe came up, bowed her head, and gripped something beneath her brown polo. If Mary-Lynette was hearing right, she thought Lupe was saying a prayer.

Religion, she thought, watching as Lupe bent her head farther, was never my strong suit…

But she had a wack at it. The least she could do.

She prayed to the best of her abilities. Racking through her vocabulary to make sure her words were by no means disrespectful, trying to make her inner voice sound as obeying as she could. Her message was overall simple. Let them rest in peace.

She went through the silence with Lupe on one side and Hannah to the other. And Mary-Lynette was still talking inside her mind (praying), when Hannah looked up.

"Lupe, did you bring flowers?"

Lupe released her hold on her necklace, looking very much down-to-earth again. "I could buy some."

Hannah smiled. "Please do." She gave Lupe a ten dollar bill. "You know the kinds."

Lupe nodded and jogged away along the grassy green.

Mary-Lynette and Hannah shared a polite smile. Then Mare went back to praying.

She thought she was getting the hang of it. Now, she was just talking. Like she would to a voice recorder, only this time, it was even more private. And non-verbal. Maybe that's why some people are so devout. It felt good to tell someone—even if they may not exist—your problems. Like a mental diary.

Only when Lupe came back did Mare realize she was closing her eyes.

"Lady Hannah," she heard her call. Mary-Lynette adjusted her sunglasses (her eyes still stung) and saw that she was holding three bouquets in her hands. One she recognized as foxgloves, black. The other two were something else. Some kind of lilies.

"How..?"

"There's a flower shoppe not far from here," Lupe explained. She held the flowers up for a whiff with a twitch of the lips, "it's a smart location, beside a cemetery."

"Are those for..?"

Lupe nodded. "Yup. Foxgloves for the 'wolves and lilies for the 'shifters."

Hannah said, reaching for a bouquet, "These are calla lilies. The deepest shade they get."

Mare squinted. "But… some of those are white."

The bouquet Hannah received was capacious, with dozens of lilies bouncing to the edge. Unlike the other two, though, it wasn't just black. It was like a checkerboard. Black and white petals randomly scattered about.

Lupe gave her the pure black lilies while Hannah gave her a smile. "It's our symbol. Black and white flowers."

The foxgloves were left with Lupe, and she was already kneeling to give them their place.

"It means harmony."

Mary-Lynette chewed it over. And she smiled.

Harmony… it sounds nice.

And for once, when Mary-Lynette kneeled to fix up her bouquet and offer some more words of remembrance, and saw Hannah and Lupe doing the same, she felt that all was right with the world.

But then her phone buzzed.


"Hello?"

Jo didn't believe in small talk. "Ash is having a few… difficulties right now."

She heard hitched breathing on the other end. "What kind of difficulties?"

"Uh…"

Jo looked at Ash, his eyes, clouded and straying. He couldn't look at her, not even if she waved her hands or done a 'monkey dance'. He wasn't looking at anything. He was catatonic.

"Just some difficulties."

"Jo—"

"Listen, don't worry, it's nothing we can't handle. Okay? I just called to tell you."

"… we?"

"Bye Mare."

Her phone shut with a snap. If Jo could see Mary-Lynette's face right now…

"Poppy, how's he doing?"

The girl was trying to catch Ash's eyes. "I don't know. He's blocking his mind somehow…" James shook Ash, gently but enough to jog someone sleeping. Didn't work.

"Jo…"

"It's amnesia, James. I know it."

"This isn't a symptom…"

"Are you the nurse here?" She snapped. James's eyes tightened, but otherwise, showed no other frustration. "I didn't think so. Keep his head up."

She barked out orders. She looked at his stats, his breathing. She checked with Poppy on his brainwaves (still no signal).

And despite her snap at James, she really didn't know what to think about Ash's state. James was right. Deadpanned states weren't common in amnesiacs' categories of 'watch out for…'.

But what else could it be?

"Wait."

James stopped shaking Ash. Jo stopped mentally checking off diseases in her head. "Poppy?"

"I'm getting his signal back. He's coming back!" She bounced once. James and Jo waited.

Ash's eyes slowly (so very slowly…) closed. When they re-opened, they were less shadowed. They were brownish-green. And they blinked another time.


Ash took in the hospital's white walls. The bed's cool sterility beneath him. The three pairs of eyes on his.

What in hell?

Poppy's eyes were wide with fervor. "Are you back?"

His hands were raised arm-length, ignoring her question, trying to get over his disorientation. He was a vampire. Disorientation is hardly a situation. But his eyes were blurry and duly stinging. His legs were asleep and he wouldn't be able to move them without getting that 'tingling' feeling for another five minutes. And he had no idea how he got back in this dump so quickly and with no memory of it happening.

Twisting and curling his fingers, he asked, "What happened?"

"You spaced."

Poppy looked ready to choke him. "But are you back?"

"No luck." James pulled at his hair and stood up. "He's still Ash."

"Pupils non-dilated. Focused spark. Clear retina." Jo searched for any other form of concussion in his eyes. From the tick in her neck, she found none. To James, she asked, "How do you know?"

James shook his head. "He's the same."

"Damn right I'm the same." Ash put in, simply for the sake of not being forgotten. "And what do you mean 'I spaced'? Any elaborations..?" he waited for James. "I need something here, Rasmussen."

Jo jabbed her fingers to his neck. "Normal pulse rate…" Ash noticed he wasn't hooked onto anything.

"We were walking. Went through the strolling gardens and then to the cemetery, ran into Jo and Delilah—"

"Actually, she almost crashed into us." Poppy put in.

"I don't like wearing my contacts." Jo mumbled. "And they make the roads so small here."

"—we met back here, at the hospital." James continued. "Delilah and Jo did a few tests on you—"

"She gave him some apples-and-pistachios brew. Said it may help the central nervous system relax enough for the hippocampus to function as properly as it could…" Jo kept mumbling and probing Ash for signs. She looked up and realized there were other people in the room. She gave a little laugh. "Craz y, but y'know, we're witches."

Witches are crazy, Ash thought, watching Jo staring at him. Why are we even working with them?

"Are you going to continue, Rasmussen?"

Gray eyes sparked with wry. "You're just going to interrupt."

Ash could practically feel his eyes change color to pure green. "Do you want me to promise?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "We left them for a break. When we came back, you were just staring."

James glared lovingly (insert gag) at his Poppy. "You're so impatient."

"Comes with the red hair." She grinned and Ash saw Poppy's own brand of flirt (insert second gag).

Jo was huffing.

"I'm diagnosing this as temporary anterograde amnesia." The witch finally stopped staring at him long enough to stoop down and grab her jacket from the edge of a chair. "There's no other option."

"But—" James.

"I'll come back to check later tonight." She was already at the door.

"… Have to go?" Poppy.

"Gotta catch a meeting, North." She smirked, then her head disappeared to the other side of the door. Her hand stayed for half a second for a hasty wave. "Don't want to be late."

The door completely closed.

Ash may have well stayed comatosed.

He looked at the other two. "What just happened?"


"You do realize this is status suicide."

Jo chewed it over. "Only if I get caught."

Lilah clicked her tongue. "Which you will."

"Thank you so much."

They tiptoed and rushed through the various hallways and passageways of the Tower. Some they were familiar with, some not. Wasn't uncommon. Possibly no one but the Lord and Lady themselves were familiar with all the twists and turns in this building.

But the room they were going to? Way too familiar.

At least for witches it was.

The Inner Circle's private sanction. Lord Thierry was hardly ever given the privilege to attend a private hearing. Lady Hannah, sometimes. Only when there were concerns with something they weren't familiar of. Which was very uncommon.

They made their way to the elevators, peeking around the corners and trying to act casual in front of the few passengers getting off a lift.

When the last of them were out of sight, Lilah pressed the up button for her

"As far as I can take you, Quartz." She stated. "Don't want to risk it."

The elevator doors opened with a resounding beep. The mirrored walls of the enclosed space sparkled with the lobby's light.

"No sweat. I know where to go." Jo saluted her friend. She got in the elevator, pushed the floor button, and leaned in on a corner where two railings met.

She saw Lilah laughing. "Nice knowing you!"

Then the doors closed and she was on her way up.

She looked at the mirrored ceiling above.

She tried to dress formal and stealthy at the same time. Boot-cut jeans for soundless walking (she loved flares but they would have been too noisy) and a white-and-blue striped long-sleeved shirt under a purple scoopie. And she had her hair in a ponytail (which she hated) and an "I heart NY" cap for added measure.

Jo watched the buttons light up as she passed each floor, and she wondered just what she was going to do.

Well. She knew she had to do three things.

1) Get information

2) Bust Ally

3) Find out what's going on with her and that Redfern

Shouldn't be too hard.

Jo was contemplating ways of persuasion--techniques. For the times that she'll need them, (which she knew she will) when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket.

She didn't check the caller idea because she was just that impatient. But it was just as well. As soon as Jo flipped it open, a very distinctive voice said, "I heard about Ash Redfern's case."

"Angora," her mentor, her advisor, her practically second-mother, "it's not nice to badger the other nurses' for information."

"I didn't badger. I asked politely." Angora wasn't too old. Not as old as most of the "experienced" witches at least. Somewhere between early-thirties to early-fifties. Jo never asked because Jo never acquired a taste for suicide.

"Did Lilah tell you this?"

"Deliliah's a nice girl. Sweet, smart—"

Jo chuckled. "And has a very big mouth." She watched as the lighted buttons climbed higher and higher. "Why? What's it to you?"

"What's it to me?"

"Yes, Angora. You've given me permission at freelance work since the day I turned sixteen. What's up?"

On the line, Jo heard her senior sigh. "You diagnosed it as anterograde amnesia?"

"Did you get that from Poppy?"

"She's a sweet girl too. A vampire, a witch, and a used-to-be human. A triple threat--"

"Angora…"

Her senior realized Jo's get-to-the-point-already tone. She was the one who taught her it. "I need you to make sure about that Jo, about your diagnosis. For Ash's and for our sakes."

Jo was picking at her fingernails, but abruptly stopped. "Since when was his amnesia our problem?"

"It could mean a new understanding on dragons. Or on memory in general. You know how important information is at this time." This time, meaning half-way near the Apocalypse. "Or it could even reveal something on the soulmate principle."

"Soulmate principle?" Well. That was widely off-topic.

Angora sounded wistful. "Never mind that, Jo. Just… We'll have to make sure on his state. Only way to get him back."

Jo swallowed. "And how?" She asked. "How are we going to make sure?"

The answer, it seemed, was simple to the elder stonecharmer, the best stonecharmer in Daybreak. Either because she really took time and effort to think this through, or because she simply knew what was to be done.

Angora replied instantaneously. "Psychoanalysis."

"Psy… psycho—?" Jo stuttered. She knew what it was… it was just… "He's not having dreams, if that's what you mean. And we're not putting him in therapy. He just had a state of… of catatonia. It's not serious, Angora, I could still run a stable routine and get back his memories—"

"We'll have to put him to a test."

"Angora—"

"I'll need cooperation from the staff. And an observational specialist to track him while on the move."

"… You mean a hired stalker?"

She could practically see her senior's smile at the other end. "Yes. That's it."

"But Angora—"

"Assuming I have your consent of course."

Jo snorted. "Don't be like that. Even if I didn't give you my consent you'd just find some other loophole to get it."

"And so the student reveals the teacher." She heard laughter and Jo just had to shake her head at her mentor.

"Still." She said once the laughter died down, "I don't know if psychoanalysis is the best method for Ash. It's not just amnesia. We should wait and see—"

Again, cut off. "That's just it. It's not just amnesia, if it even is amnesia. If we wait, there may be consequences."

"Angora—"

"Hush, Jolanda," Jo winced, "No more whining. I know what I'm doing."

Angora didn't get worked up much, nor did she ever, ever pull out the Jolanda card; take it from Jo's experience. So the young witch knew when she should back off.

Besides, she was talking to a smart, resourceful, renowned witch, about a misshapen, misguided vampire. What could possibly go wrong?

From the options Angora was giving her, it wasn't like Jo actually had a choice.

Nothing. Nothing could go wrong.

Jo nodded. "I hope so."

"Besides," continued her teacher, "it'll only take this one night."


After the cemetery, Mary-Lynette was escorted back by Lupe to her new dorm in the hospital. Hannah insisted on walking by herself back to the Tower. She and Lupe left the Lady still kneeling on the graves, still with her eyes--the same shade of smooth gray as the stone--closed and her lips tight with revelations.

Lupe and her chose to walk back to the hospital. It was good for you. And Mary-Lynette felt better and calmer than she had in days.

She was trying to put the whole Ash thing at the back of her mind. Jo could handle it. She said she could. So Mary-Lynette will just leave it at that, because what could she do anyway? She'll just get in the way of his health. It was probably better for her to leave this place…

With that thought seeding its way through her mind, and the sun's setting its mid-to-last rays on their sun-kissed faces, Mare and Lupe arrived at her room, and Mary-Lynette was never happier to be back in a hospital.

When left, she showered, changed, and got ready to pamper herself. She thought she deserved it.

She was going to take a nap.

Mare stepped out of the shower in a dream-like state. She dried and brushed and clothed in an unhurried rush. It didn't make any sense, but to her it was perfect. An unhurried rush… all she remembered was her eyelids falling without her knowing.

So she fell on the bed, and she wasn't ashamed to say that she let out a very long, very pleasant sigh. It was the best feeling anyone as worked up as her could feel. To stretch out on a comfy mattress that felt like the surface of the softest, plushiest, cotton-candy cloud of all. She gently waved out her arms, eyes closed, lips tugging up, pretending to be making snow angels. She remembered wanting so badly to do that for real when she was younger, like seven or eight. The innocent years. But Briar Creek was never an ideal place for it. Briar Creek was a modernized village, if not a marshland… and she never did travel out of her town as a child… she wanted to though… the world was out there… she loved the concept of traveling to different countries, and seeing for her own eyes, the star patterns changing and rearranging… but Briar Creek was her home… she couldn't leave it… not forever…

She was snoozing in a heartbeat.

A sweet, dreamless sleep.

Well. At first.


She woke up in sweat.

What was that?

A dream, nightmare, was playing its last show through her open eyes. But she couldn't seem to get a hand on what it was. She blinked but it didn't help. And she shut her eyes for more than three seconds, but to no avail.

She tried doing that method over and over until she realized: Just who in their right mind would really try to get back into a nightmare?

She was going crazy, she decided. Mary-Lynette had half a mind to lock herself in that closet and zip a jacket shut with crossed arms.

Then again. The world ending is a legible excuse to go mad.

She wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. She was getting too tired for this. Too useless. The more she thought about the world ending the more she thought about how little and insignificant she was. It wasn't the best feeling. She could only compare it to what she felt when she could actually catch a glimpse of a new star or planet or even (rarely) galaxy through her telescope. Except without the euphoria.

Because the world ending was not something to get euphoric about.

Mary-Lynette groaned, sat up, and checked the ticking green clock on the wall.

It was only an hour, but that nap had really waked her up. If that made sense… maybe it only did to her… she was going crazy.

Looking around the room, Mare realized that she almost forgot where she was. She wasn't in her bedroom, safe, sound, and with a promise of an uneventful day. She was in a major Daybreaker base where things could only get more exciting.

She stretched more or less and got to her feet. Wobbling at first, she steadied herself by leaning on the wall. And for a minute, she just leaned. The windows were throwing shadows of the shutters to the end of the room, and Mary-Lynette watched as they slanted by the minute. The day was ending, and she just stayed where she was. Just being.

For the second moment in a very long while, she felt at peace.

Peace…

Eventually, her back slipped down the wall and her backside planted itself on the floor. Her spare shirt and old sweats were very comfortable, as was the hair expertly and easily tied behind her head in a ponytail. Actually, she felt sort of sleepy again…

That was when she heard a knock at the door.

Now who could that be?

Knowing the population of her whereabouts, it could've been anyone.

Her eyelids stopped their drooping and Mary-Lynette unconsciously straightened up her shirt, smoothing through wrinkles. Then she got up to answer the door.

It was a nurse. Not the same one from this morning though, a new one. Maybe just one or two years older than herself. She was nice. Polite-nice but nice all the same.

They small-talked at first, not getting to know each other but not being rude to each other. It's how politeness goes.

But then the nurse's tone and manner changed. And Mare could tell something was up.

She just didn't realize how much it would affect her.

The nurse paused, either for dramatic effect or for the simple fact that she really didn't want to say what she had to. She told Mare something and Mary-Lynette swayed, maybe staggered back a bit. Because obviously, rationally, the words "Briar Creek" and "fire" and "tragedy" could not have been in the same sentence. It couldn't have been. This nurse was lying.

Even when she said sorry, Mare just wanted her to call a joke. Say it was just a prank.

And she wanted to argue but she couldn't, she wanted to shout but she couldn't. So Mary-Lynette just stared blankly at the nurse as she explained what happened to her town. Her hometown. She kept staring even when the nurse finished and went and said more "I'm sorry's" that really didn't mean anything to her. All she really wanted to do then was to curl up back in the safety and comfort of the bed and pretend that what just happened didn't really happen. That it was just part of the nightmare that she had so willingly thrown herself into. The nightmare that started the year before.

All the while, a saying she should have, should have, remembered was playing in her mind like a broken record, resounding and dripping with the grating vibe of I should have known.

Peace always comes before the storm.


She snuck out almost immediately. Because no matter how much she wanted to stop and escape from this… this nightmare, Mary-Lynette knew the only thing that would help her was movement. Movement needed mind and body. Movement would keep her occupied.

So she went, half-walking, half-running, not completely knowing where she was to go. The full emotion that she knew would come sooner than later hadn't hit her yet. She was probably in denial. No. She knew she was in denial, and she was fine with it. Mary-Lynette could use the time her own brain was giving her to stay put together until she couldn't help it.

Her plan was simple: get away.

She needed an escape. She needed a respite.

She wasn't sure she could handle anymore.

She was dressed in some of the new clothes Hannah sent to her. Nothing special, just a T-shirt and shorts. A jogging outfit. And she remembered Lupe's sunglasses on her desk so she brought them with her. When she went outside, she was glad she did.

Lupe was right. She was drunk. Or a loose variation of it.

She walked and jogged through the various directions these paths could lead her to. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, but she couldn't be bothered to fix it.

Mary-Lynette Carter wasn't stupid, nor was she ignorant. She knew that once she laid eyes on Ash last night that she'd be getting into some trouble. God, she knew that from the day she started this quest. And thinking about it, she really did think this slight… hangover was worth it.

Noticing the lack of human (or non-human for the matter) eyes on her, she ran, like sprinted, for as long as she could without collapsing. Then she just followed the current path she was on. She took one turn then another and another.

The signs were all there. She saw them the moment Lupe did, when the sun got ultra hot on her. Again, she had oozed out every ounce of denial she had. Bad habit; tried and tried to break it. Really, she did.

Nope. It was just how it worked out for her. The Night People had their Powers and instincts, she had her denial defense mechanism.

She was still half-walking, half-running when she realized that she had led herself back to the Tower. Subconsciously, she realized, she must have followed the path she and Lupe were on this morning.

Mare was turning back (she went outside to lose herself, not make trouble at the center of the base) and getting ready to sprint the other way when she saw her first visual of someone else in this whole place.

It was a girl, maybe a year younger than her. She was walking hand-in-hand with a guy that was almost twice as tall. When she came close enough to actually see, Mary-Lynette easily guessed that she was a witch. Light purple eyes.

Those eyes landed on her, in the middle of giggling about something with her beau. She stopped walking and so did the boy.

"Do you need help?" the boy asked, his voice gruff. "You look new."

"No—" Great. Mare could only imagine how pathetic she looked if random strangers stopped by to offer their services. She fondled with her ponytail while trying to come up with an understandable answer. "I was just jogging and…"

"Do I know you?" the girl's kid-like face shined with close recognition, her velveteen blonde hair barely falling askew as she tilted her head. Beneath her button-up polo was a black violet string necklace. That meant what? … Lost witch?

The girl seemed to catch herself before she stared on any longer. "I'm sorry."

Ash's friends. Probably. "No—no it's fine. I've been getting that a lot." Mare said, looking for the quickest escape. "I was just passing by."

Still, the girl stuck out her hand. Meekly, as if she were the shy one. "I'm Gillian." She introduced, then cocked her head to her partner. "This is David."

When Mare didn't answer or reciprocate the gesture, Gillian got this sort of… puppy dog look on her face. "Sorry. We just thought that introducing ourselves would be less weird for you, but I guess—"

"Mary-Lynette." She breathed, reaching for the dainty, retreating hand. She didn't want to be rude… But now they were going to get that look on their faces when they realize who she is (Ash's soulmate?!?) and then they'll ask questions and Mare would just want to fall face-flat on the gravel and dirt and pebbles they were standing on.

However, the only sign of shock Gillian and David wore was Gillian's tighter squeezing of her hand and David's nod of acknowledgement.

David smiled down on her. He had brown skin, a darker tan than Mare would ever get. "Nice to meet you."

She smiled up at him. "You too."

What followed next was what they could all properly classify as an awkward moment.

"Um…" Gillian tried. "Are you going somewhere, Mary-Lynette? There's a whole base map in the lobby." She pointed, still a little shyly, at the first, transparent floor of the Tower. "You could get to where you want to go—I mean, me and David would love to help you, but we're pressed for time and…"

Mary-Lynette took off her sunglasses, and she smiled with both her lips and eyes. Was everybody here just randomly nice? She didn't really want to go and rest in a posh lobby while her emotions were fighting for overall domain in her body, but how could she pass it up?


Ash never believed in coincidences. Whatever happens happened for or because some reason or other.

So when the door was left conveniently open by a nurse (witches weren't just crazy, they were idiots), he didn't waste a moment. He searched through the consequences and decided that this was his chance by the time he was out of his bed; he already had the makings of a plan by the time he took a step forward. And the fact that he wasn't hooked onto anything made it that much easier.

Poppy and James were gone, he failed to remember for what reason, but why would he waste energy on that? He needed Power to get through the guarded hospital way. All the nurses that would be asking questions, and though he did think witches were far inferior, he knew some could figure him out in a second. Ash wasn't super worried about that, he was worried about, if they did find him out, how would he dispose of a body in such a heavily-populated place?

He was thinking of good burial sites before he reached the door.

When he did…

Surprise, surprise.

The hall was empty.

Ash barely believed his luck.

Which was why he double-backed to the room and grabbed some of the clothes Poppy had brought him (she said that they were his own, but he didn't recognize any. Not even the underwear…) and he wasn't out of that hospital robe fast enough. He came out with pants that were, to some extent, ripped (why would I have these? Ripped clothes are so… tacky…) and a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt that he didn't bother to see what was the front of. He knew it was green.

But the shirt would have been too noticeable, so he scavenged for a jacket. He found one (apparently he liked metal bands, like Iron Maiden). He combed through his chin-length hair (it got longer…) and made his way back towards the hall. Ash closed the door behind him.


The base was shaped into a gigantic, carefully-landscaped star. For that, Mary-Lynette had a brief pang of hilarious irony.

Here she was, missing her night in Oregon, her beloved and dear telescope, the stars that shone as brightly as the sun ever could, when she was in one.

Ha.

"The star shape," Gillian explained, getting up from a vinyl couch to join Mare at the directory, "was a great idea for the shape. The base has five central points:

"The Observation Tower," she said. She gestured with a wave of her wrist to where they were and then pointed to the illustration of it, "the most vital point of it all, with the major tenants like the Lord and Lady having their home here when they aren't in the mansion. Not to mention all the research and equipment and rooms here that help Haven running smoothly."

Mare must have not heard right. "Haven?"

Gillian looked confused for a second. "Oh—that's just our nickname for this base. Because the one who suggested this whole base idea was a human. College-aged, about nineteen."

Mary-Lynette waited.

"Uh. She was the architect. The one that had the plans and blueprints. Most people would say that it was all Lady Hannah's or Lord Thierry's or even the Inner Circle's, and no one besides those themselves involved would correct them because no one wanted to bother. Technically, it is the Lord and Lady's base, and the Inner Circle did tweak it up with protection and added some basic elements.

"But it was Haven Gerard who designed the whole of it. She came up with the location, and she was building it herself with her own team." Gillian stopped, looked away, touched David's forearm then looked back. "She was killed by the Others before the base could finish. But no one knows how. It was a clean execution of a human interacting on the "wrong side" of the Night World they called it."

"That's… that's horrible."

Gillian shrugged. "It was her choice. She didn't even give up any information." Her eyes were tempted to water. "You see that picture up there? And the signature down here? That's her."

There was a photograph, Mare didn't know how recent, but it looked like a school picture, with the graduating robe and cap. It was of a girl. With freckles and dark fly-away hair and normal brown eyes, she wasn't other-worldly beautiful, she didn't look ethereally graceful. She looked like a human. And that was probably what made her such a hero.

The signature was at Mare's side. All she had to do was look down to see the initials: H.G.

"She's a center memorial at the cemetery." Gillian spoke, drying her eyes and refraining from cursing herself. "But uh." She took a deep breath. "So yeah. Some of us call it Haven in her memory. Um." Clear throat. "Where were we?"

"Uh." Mare herself had trouble remembering. "Five central points."

"Right." Gillian gathered her small form to stand tall. David was behind her, holding her half-way up. "Next is the witch hospital." She pointed to the statue of a… god? Mare presumed, a little shocked the witches would choose a male symbol. He was holding a staff with two serpents intertwined.

The hospital was on the upper right hand of the star, and the words "training" and "drop-off's/pick up's" were scrawled in black sharpie in the big space behind it.

Next Gillian pointed to the upper hand, going counter-clockwise. "The village. Like the… rural area of Haven. For the people used to that way of living." It was symbolized by a one-story house with a chimney blowing out lazy, gray smoke. "That's where most humans live, and even some Night People.

"Then the city, where it's like L.A., Chicago, and New York rolled in one. Just smaller. Shopping, food, outings, that's where you go." Upper left hand of the star was given a picture of three buildings side-to-side. "And then," she kept to the counter-clockwise, going to the lower-left hand. "There's the Safari and nature hike. Haven didn't want to touch that spot because it was the most beautiful out of the land they got off of the Mountain Springs Reserve. Lord Theirry allowed it so, and the fences and stand that keep the animals in are the only made things there."

"And here's the cemetery." Mary-Lynette brushed her finger over the illustration of the bouquet, overflowing with flowers, black or white, of every kind. It was the last corner of the star.

Gillian was glad for the breather. "That's the free grounds. The cemetery is the only landmark there. The rest is like the Safari, only tamer. Natural. Like a meadow. We only installed sidewalks there, so it'll be like a regular park."

"Why not install sidewalks everywhere?" Mare queried.

"Because…" Her guide's brow furrowed. "because… because dirt roads are much safer."

Well that didn't make sense… "How?"

"Almost everybody in Haven likes the dirt roads. Because almost everybody in Haven likes riding dirt bikes." Behind Gillian, David grinned. "And the ones that don't like riding dirt bikes just like the dirt. There's actually a study on how dirt is healthier to walk on than pavement."

"That's interesting." Mare couldn't help herself. She smiled, but she turned back to the map to hide it. "Mm… what are the rest of the markings?"

"Just other shops, rest stops, and landmarks. They're scattered around. Uh… The lines—the paths connect almost everything to here. And there are sub-sections. The Strolling Gardens at the entrance," she pointed to the foot of the star, the top-point of an invisible triangle. "The clearings and training space for the witches behind our hospital, and the trainings and clearings for the others at the free-grounds or Safari."

Mary-Lynette nodded. "What's this? It's almost everywhere…" She pointed to a picture of what seemed to be a tunnel.

The blonde-haired witch looked like she'd enjoy answering the question. "Those are archways, the most favorite door-style here. Every place has at least one arch."

"Why?" She really was curious.

"Because. In some cultures, especially for the witches, archways foretold…." She paused, periwinkle eyes searching for the right word, "destiny. Like… you know the saying? One door closes and another door opens? Archways never close. Like… destiny is always waiting. Whether you like it or not, it's there."

Gillian seemed to realize that what she said was profound, and embarrassed with Mare's eyes on her, she added cheekily. "And Lady Hannah just loves intertwining flowers on them. Another symbol for Daybreakers. When things and people meet to make one." Here she intertwined her hand with David's. "Harmony."

Mare nodded. And she bit her lip when she noticed David's hold on Gillian grow gentler, and Gillian leaning reflexively back. Soulmates.

She changed the subject. "So… Gillian. How do you know all of this?"

The girl giggled, her short hair bobbing. "You just… pick up these things." And she walked over with David to the half-circled counter before picking something up from a stacked pile. A packet.

"Literally. There's a carry-on map."

Well. Don't I feel stupid.

Mare could have sworn she blushed. "Thanks."

David smiled. "Don't let it get you down. Gillian's just joking. She works part-time here as a receptionist. Get's these kinds of questions all the time."

Gillian giggled again.

Mary-Lynette almost laughed with her. She needed a giggle.

But then.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you two." She tugged on her ponytail and folded the packet carefully into her shorts pocket. "I'll be on my way." And to Gillian she added. "Thanks for everything."

Gillian just smiled.

Neither of them stopped her. Didn't even ask where she was going. They said their bye's and nice to meet you's and that was it.

Mary-Lynette couldn't have asked for anything nicer of them.

She was out of there.

And she looked at the map once she was a good distance away, and she immediately knew where to go. It was crazy. But she knew. It was even far, with paths crisscrossing and twisting to give her cross-roads. But she needed it.

Besides.

A few minutes to walk, a few minutes to think.


It was by the beginning of twilight did Ash realize that he had no idea where he was going.

He made it out of the hospital without so much of a glance-over. He didn't even see a nurse to or from his way out of there.

And Ash had been wandering around aimlessly since, trying to find an exit, an entryway, something to give him an idea of where he was.

Because clearly, he was lost.

What a grand escape for the grandiose Redfern.

Ash muttered a good long chain of curses.

He only knew that, from the hospital, he made a left turn and been crossing and twisting to stay on the same path. In about a block, he would be walking on sidewalks.

A sense of déjà vu weaseled into him when he saw pogs and pinecones kicked astray. Did I do that? He asked himself. But he didn't remember… he couldn't have.

For the hell of it, Ash went out of his way to kick a pinecone.

There. Sense of… familiarity? He didn't know the term for it. But he kicked the cone again and again, following its every stop before kicking it ahead.

He kept on kicking.

He kept kicking until his make-shift ball hit a staircase.


Now Mary-Lynette had a map to tell where she was going. A good thing, because it was getting dark. The only other time she was out here at night was with Hannah and Thierry. Now she was alone.

And though she knew most, if not all, of these people were the good guys, she still had a creep up her spine whenever she heard something suspicious.

The sun was completely gone now. Twilight was taking over, and for the next one to one-and-a-half hours, the only light she'll have would be the tinges of hot pink and violet dusk.

She just kept reaffirming her lack of sanity when she stubbornly persisted to the one place she felt where all was right with the world.

The cemetery.

It was a blind shot, but she was going for it.

And on her way, she did the stupidest and riskiest thing.

She thought.

She thought about a lot of things. But everything she thought of, it led to him. Even when she tried to think about that outrageous lie (Briar Creek burning was not true. She already decided it wasn't) she went back to that night. When her life changed, and she was new. She kissed a vampire and she loved it. She killed a werewolf that was her friend. She could have died, but she lived.

And she hated it. Which was why she thought she was doing the right thing when she sent him away the next morning.

And then Mary-Lynette realized: reflecting on traumatic events is not one of the smartest things to do before visiting a cemetery at night.

She was almost there. She was already walking on the familiar sidewalk. And she could already see the curb that would lead her to the staircase.

Mary-Lynette sped up. What propelled her to the cemetery, she didn't know. But she needed some kind of comfort.

She was walking up those steps in a minute, not bothering to play detective and see if there were any other late visitors. And when she looked back on this night, she'd realize that to be her mistake.

She passed under the archway and paused to take in the sight.

The last hues of pink were drifting into oblivion. Violet and indigo were prevailing over this side of the world now. And the effect the two colors had was priceless.

Either by the style of Lady Hannah or by the work of the witches, the place looked… unearthly.

There were Christmas lights. Multi-faceted, golden bulbs were wrapped around two or three evenly spaced trees to give off a ghostly, almost wraithlike glow. Nighttime flowers were blooming and giving off all kinds of scents. The wind was beginning to whisper, fireflies were beginning to work, and beetles were buzzing about.

Very serene. To the point of sheer eeriness.

She walked through the square platform and onto the grass. Her ruddy old converse were stepping soundlessly through the field, and through the lights, was extra careful to not step on anybody's graves.

Mare just wandered; she really didn't have a plan for this. Now that she was here, there was nothing for her to do.

So she chose a comfy looking headstone, gave silent prayers and apologies, and rested on it, letting her shorts get stained by the grass. She let her hair loose and her sunglasses fall next to her and she rubbed her forearms. It was getting chilly.

She breathed in the air and was semi-happy that her senses were returning to those of a human girl. She couldn't smell anything in the air but air. This morning, she smelled tiger lily's and the authentic aroma of a meadow. Cut and wild grass mixed together with smatterings of flowers…

But no. She was fully human now. Ash's blood in her was already diluted.

She stood up, brushed herself off, and looked about.

Then Mary-Lynette walked.

She walked to clear her mind. She walked to get away and to have just a smidge of freedom. She walked because she felt like it.

She walked through what must have been dozens and dozens of aisles with headstones either commemorating the dead or commemorating the events that led to the deaths. And she was getting fairly good at discerning the species of individuals without looking at the markings. Here was a plot with a smattering of black foxgloves: enemy werewolf. A lone, long-stemmed black rose: enemy vampire, a bouquet of black and white dahlias: Daybreaker witch. A single pink… tulip? Oh. A human then.

It astounded Mare at just how well her wall of apathy was helping her. If she were any less indifferent, she may have seriously considered turning back to the hospital and calling it a night.

But she was indifferent, (natural defense mechanism, remember?) so she trudged on.

There was a pull somewhere to her left. She followed it. Didn't even pause to wonder why on earth there was a pull, and just followed. Mary-Lynette seemed to do a lot of things without thinking these days.

But... A sense of… being on the right path wrapped its way around her, pushing her now-cramping legs (she ran a lot, little streams of sweat were trickling down her bare neck) forward still. That was the sense that led her to be carefree, for an instant… so she looked up at the sky.

Oh… oh it was beautiful. It wasn't too clear, but it was clear enough to see the whole constellation of Orion the Hunter. Clear enough for her to count twenty… thirty… thirty-five…

"Mary-Lynette?"

Mary-Lynette tore her eyes away from the stars.


The cemetery was as good a hiding place as any.

That's what Ash thought when he settled down for a quick rest on a very comfy looking headstone on the farthest… left? He thought. Yes. Left of the cemetery. No one would find him here.

He reached back to grab his hood and put it on. He huddled in his jacket and prepared for a deep one-on-one with his psyche. Ash Redfern needed answers, and goddammit, he was going to get them. This very night, if he could help it.

He had just settled in, back completely relaxed against the solid stone, when he felt something.

It was to his right. And it felt like an itch that just begged to be scratched.

But it wasn't an itch. It was like a… a tug. Or a twitch. Something so minimal that impossibly grew in draw by the second.

It moved something in him. Ash felt stimulated. Obliged to get up.

So he did.

And then he was walking.

And it was strange, because—because he… he felt something. Similar to the feeling he had this morning, except stronger. Of… of being right. Like he was following what he was supposed to…

He was so lost in it, Ash didn't even slap himself for using such a… for being so… stale.

His hands wormed their way out of his pockets, his hood fell of its own accord, and the wind murmured against the hair falling into his eyes.

And then he saw it.

Or rather, he saw her.

He should have known.

Ash wished he could just die.

Because it was her. Her.

What the hell was she doing here?

Mary-Lynette was walking still. She was looking up. In a matter of time, she'll be looking at him with the same surprise and question he knew was in his expression. And maybe even hate.

And that damned Ash Redfern couldn't seem to move his own legs.

It was by luck (good or bad) that a werewolf side-stepped in at the last minute.

Well no. Actually, Ash only smelled the werewolf. But the scent was all it took to snap his self-control back into place. He felt his legs again and made haste to hide behind a gravestone. One with a square base and a full-statue of an angel on top.

Like Ash said.

He didn't believe in coincidences.

So when life gave him an opportunity, a chance to solve his latest puzzle by spying on her via perfect vantage point… well. Who was he to oppose it?

So he crouched lower, and using his quiet steps, scooted closer to the sides. He was still blocking his presence from any detectors (odd that no one was tailing him yet, because he didn't feel any oppression) and he settled in for a show.


A small shock ran through Mary-Lynette's legs. She must have jumped two feet off the ground.

Jeremy?

He was standing there. In front of her. Mary-Lynette's eyes were towards the sky while she walked, but how could she not have seen him?

Was this where the pulling was leading her?

She was gasping, frozen, rooted to where she was standing.

Until, that is, she remembered.

"Oh." Mare gave herself a hard, mental pinch. She had to get back down from Cloud Nine sometime. "Hi Nat."

Don't stare, she scolded, Don't stare.

Mary-Lynette turned. She pretended to be reading a stone's epitaph.

Nathaniel Moore was sitting, cross-legged, on top of a burial. Dressed comfy, unlike the night before. With a hoodie and shorts. When he saw her he immediately came up beside her. Right beside her. If she shifted her weight just a fraction of an inch, she'd be resting on his arm.

He looked… good. Healthy, practically radiating strength and stamina. His breathing was somewhat labored. Maybe he ran over here before sitting down. If Mare turned to look at him, she'd be staring straight at his mouth…

… Did it just get warm?

Finally, taking Mary-Lynette away from her discomfort, he spoke. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

So vague… She thought. Two could play that game. "Me neither."

"Yeah."

Nat must have at length sensed something, either her uneasiness or her slight hostility towards being interrupted, because he leaned back. Away from her. Which was good. She didn't need to feel anymore strong emotions for the night.

"So…" he ran a hand through his hair, but the strands still fell back in the same places. "I… I'm guessing you know..?"

She didn't answer right away. When she did, Mare was careful to keep whatever that made him move away from her intact. "Know?" She asked, sitting back down on the grass and uncaring how she looked because why would she care with Nat? He was just a stranger she met almost exactly 24 hours ago. "Know about what?"

"You know…" Nat persisted. "About your home in Oregon."

Mary-Lynette could have broken then. Break all the conduct and self-dignity she mustered. Not only was she going to feel shocked, she was going to be proven wrong.

So instead, she chose denial. Her old friend.

"What about?"

Nat looked uncomfortable. Good, Mary-Lynette thought.

He was going to say something, but then he thought better of it. Good, Mare thought again. So the boy with the deep dark brown eyes sighed and sat down with her on the grass.

Not good.

She waited for him to talk, under that huge awkward cloud that seemed to hang over them. Surely he must have felt it, how could he not? Mare was on her own squirming with the need to high-tail it outta there. But she didn't. For the sake of not being impolite.

But he didn't talk. So Mary-Lynette decided to be the mature one and start a conversation.

"Why are you here?"

Nat didn't seem surprised at all by the question. "I came to visit my mom."

Mare was silent to take it in. "I'm sorry… I—I didn't know your mom died. Minsi never… but I did only know her for a little—"

"Minsi has no reason to grieve." Nat smiled into space as he explained. "It wasn't her mom."

Another silence on her part… "But I thought—"

Nat watched her from the corners of his eyes. "We're only half-siblings."

"Oh."

When he didn't talk (and she gave him two minutes), she decided that it was time for her leave.

That was exactly what she told him. "I guess I'll be going now. Thanks for uh… the talk, Nat." She made a gesture, putting her hands behind her to give her force to push herself up.

Nat pulled himself up before she could, though, and helped her without being asked, taking her hand in his. Just being a gentleman, she thought, shouted in her mind, just a gentleman. The second she was vertical again and could hold her own weight, she snatched her hand away. Not to be rude (mostly).

It really was getting cold.

Stupid me, she told herself, why didn't I bring a jacket?

She shivered before turning away to head back.

"Oh." She heard him mutter, and she didn't see what look he had on, but she could tell from his quiet voice that he was thinking something through.

She shivered, even started to feel her teeth vibrate. Her feet hadn't, surprisingly, moved an inch.

Nat sighed; then he smiled.

"Here."

And then he hugged her.

Nat was hugging her.

She was more than a little surprised that she wasn't stopping him.

Sure she had an excuse. She was cold, he wasn't. Body heat equals no shivers or cold. He was warm. She needed warmth. She could already feel her body relaxing…

Mary-Lynette clung to the hope that her messed up brain would accept its own lie as truth.

Oh, but God… he even smelled like Jeremy… a mix between motor oil and wilderness… Maybe he worked at a motor shop here... someplace…

His arms around her waist didn't feel like constrictors at all. She knew without him telling her that this was all her decision. She could break free with a single twitch if she wanted to. And she wanted to. She did. Really.

But if Mary-Lynette closed her eyes, just… she could maybe pretend that it really was him… her old friend. Her old mechanic. Her childhood. Just for old time's sake.

If only it didn't feel so wrong.

She could feel her face twitch with the need to cry, (where did that come from?) but she held it back. It didn't matter that her face as away from his. She wouldn't break here no matter what. Later, when she got back to the hospital, her new room. She could vent there.

She twitched again and she knew she dragged this hug on for more than she should have.

Mare was going to ask him to let her go when she saw him.

He was there. Behind a statue of an angel with a harp. And he was watching and waiting and trying not to be seen but she saw him.

Mare stiffened, maybe even lost a little more color. Maybe she even muttered something, because she felt Nat pull back slightly.

"Mary-Lynette?"

She didn't hear him. She vaguely remembered he was there.

Oh. I don't need this right now.

It was a hallucination. Probably. Rationally. Because no way could one girl feel all these feelings in one day. No God or being out there would make this happen in one night.

She removed herself from Nat's embrace with a whispered "I have to go." and just ran. Her legs weren't too constricting now and she wasn't cold anymore. Nat didn't say anything as she went, and she decided that that was for the best. Any further and she knew it would have been a mistake.

She ran past the angel statue without a double-take, ran past more aisles of the deceased and steered clear a few feet as to make sure she didn't ruin any of the flower arrangements. It was almost completely night, with the purples and violets drifting as the pinks had, to only be replaced by a dark and dominant blue. The small wind sharp and gentle all at once, Mary-Lynette went without knowing how far the cemetery went, but she figured that it didn't matter right now.

Whatever her mind did to reason with the rest of her to just go, she did. And she didn't look back.


Ash didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Laugh because it really was funny… it was like the universe had a thing with giving him ultimatums. If there really were such things as divine beings, he'd imagine them saying: Oh look, there's Ash Redfern! Let's make him choose between freedom and the girl that could maybe, just maybe, be his soulmate! AGAIN! It'd be fun!

And cry because he already knew what he was going to do.

He waited.

He's waited this long, he could wait for the werewolf to stop staring at where Mary-Lynette went and just get his sorry rejected ass home.

Eventually, the sap did turn on his heels and jogged away.

And what he was going to do sunk into Ash's thick head.

Ash gritted his teeth. "God…" He wanted to punch the statue. "Dammit all."

Later, he'd call it as another misguided relapse of identity. Another very rare, very limited sign of idiocy on his part. Another stupid mistake. But right now, he called it following his hear—

Instincts. It was instincts.

He got up.

He ran.


Author's Note: Okay... so im mixed about this one... hate it but think its ok enough to be posted...

And heres the part where i give you my excuses: School work (projects that seemed to be harder than usual, but got an A with my frnds ;D), drama (As in like and like like, you know/ XD), and some other bull that just may keep you from flaming me :OOOOOO

That's it. I don't really think you want a more detailed explanation. If you're even reading this, I have to give you a big hugggg. ;}

Not giving up on this fic. Or the other ones in waiting.

I can't gaurantee that the next chap will be this long, but i can guarantee the appearance and new POV of a Wild Power (i.e. Jez, Illiana, Delos...) any would do fine. Who do you want?

Sidenote(s): First: I changed Nat's character. Just a little twist for those of you who read the original. My friend is now a big sister (Hi Mia) and so i decided to make them related (somewhat). Besides. It fits my plot better ;)

Second: Anyone with a need for a beta?

AND: Three of my friends (in real life) have accounts now with stories. If you like WARRIORS, check out NeonTigerValentine (B.A.M.F. name right? XD) for her original fic, and just check out thatmetalheadguy and BreezeofftheHudson(one story for Dr. Horrible's sing along) for the laughs...

And of course check out DEATH OF FANFICTION in my favorites (i forgot to fave it last time...), b/c it has real fanfic authors in them, and FIREFOX APOCALYPTIC, if you'd be so generous and loving and awesome. :)

{When'd i turn into a walking, schmoozing advertisement?}

Ohmygawrsh... I forgot...

Review..?

XOXO- panini999