'God, please let him be here.' Catty thought, shivering in the misty air. She knocked once more on the door to Stanton's house, one he shared with the lower followers that he trained. She turned to go when the sound of the door creaking open and Stanton's surprised voice floated through the air.

"Catty!?!" She stepped into the light of the streetlamp, and he stared in shock.

"What's wrong? Is Serena okay? Are YOU okay?" He asked, making his way down the stairs to the landing.

"No. . ." She breathed.

"Stanton. . . Help me. . please. . ." Catty dropped unconsciously into Stanton's arms. Quietly, he cradled her, and walked back up the stairs to his room. This was going to be interesting.

* * *



"You have got to be kidding!" Cassandra cried as Stanton laid the sleeping goddess on the couch.

"No I'm not." His calm voice was enough to silence her protests.

"And don't EVER question my authority Cassandra. . . You're already an outcast." She pursed her lips together, knowing he was right. He turned to the others.

"Wake her up and die."

* * *



Catty woke up in the dead of night, the next day obviously, with a splitting migraine. She attempted to sit up, but was gently pushed back down by hands she couldn't see. Fear gripped her throat, making it impossible to talk. Where was she? Who was with her? Why couldn't she see anything?

"You're fine. Stanton went to check on Serena, he'll be back soon. I'm David, you can trust me, alright? No one else is here to worry about. Just try to sleep." His voice was calm, soothing, and Catty vaguely wondered if he as cute before falling into darkness again.

* * *