SouthernChickie: I'm sorry you hate me. At least that tells me you like my

story. And no, I can't give you any hints at this point, sorry – it'll ruin my

sequel!

MorganaPendragon: I'm glad you don't hate me like some people. (hehe)

Koneko: Kat is 13. Glad you like it! I always like to hear from new peeps.

Maeve Carys: Hey, I hear from so many new peeps…maybe I should leave

more often…no, I was JUST KIDDING!! PLEASE don't attack me. I really

didn't mean it, everyone! REALLY!! Anyway, glad you like it too. And I'm

back. Well, duh.

A/N: Kevin's first line is not my own invention – it's actually a line from a song

called "Unholy," by KISS. The song lyrics that float through Kat's head are also

by KISS, from a song called "Dreamin'"

~ ~ ~

Two choices: face down Kevin, or face down the blob. No time to think – Kevin

is human, the blob hurts. I kept running full tilt at the figure barring my path,

holding my arms out in front of me and curling my hands into fists.

"Better cross your heart before you die," he said, and then I slammed into him

as hard as I could, using the momentum from my run and all the power I could

muster to knock him flat on his back on the floor. He hit the concrete with a

smack and a grunt, and I landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him.

Before I could put my advantage to use, however, he rolled over, pinning me

underneath him so I could barely breathe. I glared at him. "Nice to see you,

too," he said with a smile.

"Can't say I feel the same way," I croaked.

"Sorry to hear that. But it's not going to make a difference." He grabbed my

arms and wrenched me onto my feet as he stood, crossing my wrists in his

hands so I couldn't pull free.

"Wait!" I suddenly said as something occurred to me. "There was a purple

light – back there – it's chasing me"- I cut off my sentence as his grin grew

wider.

"Why, thank you for reminding me." He lifted one hand in the air and snapped

his fingers as I watched him in puzzlement. Kevin not only seemed to know

exactly what I was talking about, I got the feeling he was controlling it. But

how? He held his hand in the air a moment longer, and I saw my chance: he was

only holding me with one hand.

I twisted and yanked away with all my might, and my wrists slid out of his

grip. I spun away as he reached for me again, pushing off the nearest crate and

running as fast as I could the other way. I flew down the nearest passage,

turning left and right and trying desperately to lose the man whose footsteps I

could hear following me relentlessly. Hoping Amy and Alex would stay out of

the way, I was startled to realize I hadn't seen the purple thing again, and I

wondered where it was. For some reason I wasn't worried that it had found my

friends, because it hadn't seemed interested in them – it was only looking for

me. I didn't meet anyone else, but suddenly I found myself at the front of the

room, out in the open space by the stairwell, with nowhere to run. As I looked

frantically around me for something to help me, anything, Kevin shot out of the

maze behind me, effectively cornering me. There was only one thing to do.

As I whirled around and launched myself into attack mode, I felt the anger

start to rise again, the same feeling I had had when fighting Snell – it seemed so

long ago now, but it would have been…what…only the day before, actually. As

Kevin drew his sword, I pulled Millie's knife out of my sleeve, holding it point-

down in my right fist. We circled each other slowly, each waiting for the other

to make the first move. I stared at those green eyes, feeling the air almost hum

with the tension as we moved slowly around and around.

Kevin's move was so fast I almost missed it, but I just managed to leap

backwards as his sword sliced through the air where I had been standing a half

second before. The first move was made, the tension broken – I ducked his back

swing and lunged in under his arm. Looping my left arm around his right one, I

stepped back and wrenched his arm downwards. It was a spur-of-the-moment

version of a move I'd been taught in karate class, and it was pretty sloppy, but it

worked: Kevin bent over rather than have his arm broken, and I lifted my foot

and stepped on his shoulder, forcing his head into the floor. He got a grip on my

shirt, however, and tucked himself into a somersault, pulling me along for the

ride. I put one arm over my head so it wouldn't hit the floor and curled up, then

unrolled so I was lying flat on the floor as Kevin tried to stand up.

I tightened my hold on his arm and kicked out at that spot above his elbow,

then couldn't help wincing at the bubbly crunch I heard. I swallowed hard – I'd

only ever practiced that move in the dojo, where nobody actually hurt anybody

else. I'd never seen it used in real life, forget used it myself, and nobody ever

thinks to prepare you for what happens when you do use it.

Rolling away as Kevin swore loudly, I found the side of a crate and used it to

pull myself onto my feet, then ran around behind it and waited. I crouched on

the floor and listened to the sounds of the blonde man stumbling around and

swearing like a sailor. His sword hit the floor with a metallic clang and rocked

back and forth before settling down. As I tried desperately and unsuccessfully to

think of a plan, the torrent of foul language gradually quieted down, and there

was a scrape as Kevin picked his sword up off the floor again. I held my breath

and waited to be found, but nothing happened. Looking left and right, listening

hard, I couldn't sense him anywhere, and I started to become uneasy. The last

time I had lost track of him had ended up with my running into him face-first. I

didn't want that to happen again, so I slowly stood up, looking into the corners

of the room and around the crate I was hiding behind.

Just as I poked my face around the front corner of the box, peering toward the

stairwell, I heard a swishing noise about two feet away. I jumped and yanked

back, but it was too late – Kevin's fist connected with my face so hard I was

slammed up and back over the edge of the crate. I slumped slowly backwards,

unable to see, the pain in my nose and cheek an explosion that eclipsed

everything else. Something had broken, but I couldn't tell what, and for some

reason I suddenly didn't care.

Gravity rolled me over onto my stomach, so I was staring at the grey concrete

floor over the back edge of the crate, watching my own blood dripping down

and forming a puddle on the ground. There was a yell behind me, and I heard a

second voice, followed immediately by the clang of sword on sword. Though I

had no idea what was happening, it didn't puzzle me. Nothing seemed strange

anymore…nothing seemed really anything anymore, actually…the words to a

song I knew floated through my head as I lay there.

"I'm sailing like a ship on the sea, I don't care if I'm lost in the haze…I hear

the angels singing softly to me…time to hear the beat that you never see, would

you come and slip away…"