Chapter 9
Why is it suddenly so hard to write this damn piece of fanfiction?? Grrr, writer's block sucks! Oh well, anyway here it is!



Orion stepped into the witch's tent. It was very dark, the only light coming from an honest-to-god crystal ball resting on a table in the middle of the tent. There were various witchy looking things on the walls and on the shelves around the room, ranging from intricate necklaces of silver, gold, and bronze to disembodied hands and even heads floating in formaldehyde.
Please, sit down, the witch said. Orion sat, and so did the witch, rolling up her sleeves and placing her hands on the crystal ball.
Some time passed. Orion began to feel like an idiot-this witch was just leading him on. Listen, lady-
She thinks of you often. Her voice was different-deeper, more ancient, as if coming from the Earth itself. Orion stared at her, not daring even to breathe. She requested to be sent to New York City a week after you left, and Thierry granted her request. Her location was secret; everyone knows she is gone, but no one except Thierry knows where she is. She thinks of you every day, sometimes hating you, sometimes loving you. She often wishes she had killed you the night you came to her room six months ago. She is still being hunted by the entire Night World, and has come very, very close to being dead, but has managed to outsmart the Night World every time. She is a vampire hunter, and has removed some of the Night World's most prestigious assassins.
Orion's throat was tight; he could barely speak, barely hear. Show her to me, he whispered.
She stood up and lifted the crystal ball up above her head. Stare at this crystal ball, she commanded. Look nowhere but here. Orion obeyed; the ball became larger and larger, until it filled his entire vision. He saw white for a moment, and then the image he had been yearning for for months. Trent's face.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so. She was curled up on a couch in an apartment, staring at the wall. Her eyes were hard and bitter. She closed them, and to his horror Orion saw tears leaking out. She was crying-no, not just crying, weeping, great big sobs that shook her from head to toe. Orion gazed rapturously at her, taking in every detail, noticing every strand of hair, greedily devouring her image and savoring every last drop.
After some time, the image passed, and Orion was back in the witches tent. The crystal ball was back on the table, and the witch was still in that strange trance.
Now you listen to me, witch, Orion said, his voice intense and determined. I want to know exactly where I can find her-street address, apartment number, everything. His resolve was gone-he could think of nothing but her.
Greenich Street, New York, Amblin Apartments, Apartment Number 476. Orion nodded his thanks, dropped a few bills on her table, and turned to go.
Her voice was urgent now, she was out of her trance-like state. In this magic globe, the future is told as well as the past. You have evaded Selyah for six months, and you will continue to do so forever if you do not go to Trent. But if you join your soulmate, your bliss will be short lived: Selyah will find the both of you, and you will see your last sunset.
Orion shrugged. Whatever happens, happens. But I can't resist Trent any longer-I would rather die than live without my soul mate. Turning around, he left, heading for New York.




Two days later, the fortune-teller witch was counting her money. It had been quite a profitable day-despite most people's claims of cynicism, almost everyone was willing to pay quite a lot for even the simplest bit of magic.
Suddenly ten or so vampires burst into her tent. She screamed, but was instantly silenced when two vampires grabbed her, one holding her against the wall, the other keeping his hand over her mouth. The others raced around the room, knocking down all her treasures, ripping up her books, spilling all her noxious liquids. Standing in the doorway' was Selyah Redfern. Andréa's eyes widened-a strangled cry escaped from her mouth. Selyah smiled and advanced, ignoring the havoc around her. You had a customer two days ago by the name of Orion Desmones, I believe, she said, her voice soft and poisonous. A customer of much importance to me. Now, I'm not asking much; all I want to know is where he's going. The vampire removed his hand from Andréa's mouth so she could speak.
I'll never tell you, Andréa spat. Hatred burned in her eyes. Selyah struck the witch so hard that she flew from the two vampire's grasp and hit the tent wall. She got up, gasping with indignance, but was stopped by the two vampires, and rewarded with another blow.
Ah, but you must tell me, my dear Andréa. Selyah's voice was even softer, and all the more deadly. Knowledgeable witch that you are, I think you know just what I will do to you if you don't tell me. Andréa's face became panicked-her eyes darted all over the tent, desperate for a means of escape. But she found none. Now will you tell me?

Selyah sighed. Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to take it. Andréa cried out and struggled violently, panicked and terrified. But it was no use: Selyah grasped her head with both hands, and the witch gasped and sank to the ground as the information was literally ripped out of her mind. Selyah let her go, and smiled. Orion and his little bitch would escape her no longer. She turned and left, calling her vampires with her, pausing only to shove a stake into the witch's heart.




Trent stuck her injured finger in her mouth. She had been attempting to cut vegetables, not her hand. She angrily swept her veggies off the cutting boar and into the trash and stomped to the fridge, retrieving a TV Dinner. Screw the Domestic Arts, she thought. I'll stick with my Instant Shit, thank you very much.
Taking her dinner out of the microwave, she sat down at the table and proceeded to gobble it down. She needed to eat fast-she had to hunt down a Night Worlder named Coralis, and hopefully kill him tonight-which meant she wouldn't get home until two or three in the morning.
Trent had figured out a new life for herself in the last six months, consisting mostly of eating, drinking, sleeping and fighting for her life. She wasn't happy with her life-not by a long shot-but she could count on things to maintain, to stay consistent and stable. She could count on killing someone at least every week and a half. She could count on getting a paycheck and paying her rent once a month. She could count on missing Orion every second.
When he left, Trent had asked Thierry to send her someplace else, somewhere as far as possible from California; she couldn't stand seeing all the happy little Daybreakers, cavorting around with their soulmates. It made her miss Orion too much.
She never forgot that he tried to kill her. She was still murderously angry at him, after six months, but that didn't stop her from wanting him with all her heart.
Sometimes she managed to lie to herself, to convince her heart that she despised him, that she was glad he was gone. This sometimes worked for as long as a day. But then she would sleep, and dream of him, waking up crying. Then she would realize the truth.
Trent sighed, and threw the rest of her dinner away. She wasn't hungry tonight.
Gathering up her various stakes and other weapons, Trent headed for the door, yanking it open.
She froze.
Her jaw dropped.
In the doorway stood Orion.