I know, I know, I'm an evil harpy of a girl for the delay. My excuse? Not even anything noble, like giving charity or running a donation center…Senior Week. Some of you may not care for the school system, and neither do I…but when you get the chance for late night out Senior activities…fan fiction sorta slips from your mind. I'm so, very, really, terribly, very (I said that all ready) sorry for the wait!
Ya see, I know y'all like the long chapters, and this was a short chapter so…I inflated it with stuff. Meaningless drivel. None-too-witty dialogue. But I saw the not impressive number of pages on Word and I just had to extend it. This is just my apology ahead of time. Plus, that last chapter was such a downer. This chapter should be a higher~~~ does that make sense?
Lilith: Gee, I feel all extra special. I'm glad (I think I use that word too much, but anyways…) that you relate to the characters. It sorta annoys me when the main character is graceful, stunning, tall, enchanting, polite…most things I can't really relate to. I figured we needed a girl who stumbles, doesn't quite hold her tongue and blah. The boys are special too (aren't they always?) Oh god, isn't he? (Adrian, I mean…about him being cool) There is always something about a bad boy that always makes you want to change him…or maybe that's my James Dean complex. All right, that's it and thank you very much for the review!!
Aife Bisclaveret: Rule number one: no apologizing for not reviewing. Because then I may not review yours in the future (accidentally of course) and then I'll just be a hypocrite…so no apology-thingies. Oh and YAY for you for finding the whole clam chowder thing! I thought nobody would get it! Of course it's intentional, and I thought it was pretty funny…
I don't think you're unobservant; I didn't want to put in the whole lumps during the kiss because, hey, how romantic are lumps? Lips, lust, lumps? Nope, doesn't flow the way I want it to. Any who, poor Night World people and marriage. Just can't keep it together! Besides, Valdis' excuse is his first wife wasn't his soul mate. And Adrian…Adrian's just screwed up.
Honey, if Jared didn't play a major role in the plot, I'd transplant myself and steal him away. Of course, Rita's half fallen in love with him already (and who would blame her) but there is this whole NY complication. Adrian's not that hateable, and I wouldn't blame you for liking him. Doesn't care to please anybody, and I like that.
Oh and Fayth is the one from the Chosen. She seemed sorta compliant in that book though, so I boosted her feminist gene just a tad. Brilliant deduction, Aife! Happy trails!
Skylark: HA, the element of surprise. Ain't it a bitch? I know it, poor Kyros and poor Rita. Whoever did this to them should be burned and hanged…wait that's me! Scratch that! Life will improve though, comparatively, any ways. I hope that's enough for now. :0)
Practikalmagik: Poor thing! Didn't meant to depress you! Terribly sorry!! And, as mentioned before, Rita's family would get in the way of the plot later on. I know, it's mean, but…aw, I'm sorry! It sounds sorta mean now. People don't walk down the street and say, "Hey, let's kill this family so the plot will be less complicated." Bad Adelaide, bad, bad, bad. And, for the consideration of the readers, I don't think this chapter has any more sad bits!
Neona-deniker: Aw, shucks…you're a keeper-upper. Kudos to you, I'm never consistent with reviews. Trying though! Oh, it's all right if you have a long review, they're fun to get.
Any who, glad to see the whole death thing didn't bother ya. But hey, don't everyone love a good conflict? Yeah, I know, no family or anything…but, sooner or later, she would have shed them any way. Sounded like she was trying to escape, didn't it? Yeah, the whole drug accident…will be explained later! Insert evil cackle
Hee-hee, the whole Kyros/Valdis thing won't be ultra violent (as much as Valdis would hope) because we will always have dependable, sensible women to play referee. Besides, Valdis and Maria are too mutually spiteful to bother with anybody else. Stinky punks.
I think the time frame will stay the same, short or long, so it'll just be short. And, trust me, there's no point in telling me to relax about the SAT's. First time I took it, I threw up before I drove there…er, you didn't want to know that, did you? Never mind, I'll just do my whole obsessive-anal retentive-SAT thing and hope for the best. Thanks for all the encouragement!!! Jeez that sounded cheesy…ew, bad cheese…
NatalieNJS: I hope by the little scrolly thingy you see that I didn't shorten the chapter! Always happy to make the readers happy (I would have said "customers" instead of readers, but then I realized you're not paying and it sounded sorta prostitute-y…or maybe I'm a perv. Never mind!) It's all right about not reviewing, I forget to review my fave stories some times too. Did ya get the whole "Ritz" thing? I liked it too, but then again, I'm a bit biased. All right, hope this didn't waste your time! :0)
Zabella: All right, point taken, no orten-shay the apters-chay. It's just that I read some other fanfic that said long chapters are a pain so I panicked…sorry for making it so sad! This one oughta lighten things up. Thanx!
Fin: Thanks for the advice! I'm exactly the same way—really great stories just tie me up in knots when the chapters are uber short. Yay, first time I've been labeled as unpredictable—I was afraid things were too foreshadow-y. Now, I'm sure everybody would love more Jared and Bryan scenes, but…er, well…they're not exactly the main characters. They're catalysts, you know, but of course they'll occur more and more in the story. Plus they play important roles.
I laughed out loud when you described the Glisscielle's deaths. I mean, that was the reason I "offed" them…it sounds so Mafia-ish. :0) I'm so happy that you're happy with the story so far, despite the crappy situations, and I hope you like this chapter, despite the crappy situations. Bye!
Martha: Yikes, kinda scary there. Aw, that was sad, no smiley face. But, I do understand why there is that facial absence, and it is necessary because, in the later plot, the family would totally get in the way. And, I hope this was soon enough. I've never had hate mail and I hope it stays that way.
Vague Verity
Chapter 7
"Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box,
~*~*~*~
New York, New York
The car trip…Rita couldn't remember it. As they slowly moved through New York City traffic, she couldn't conjure anything from the ride. She knew that they stopped every so often, but she didn't know what she did during those times. Sit, maybe, and think. Or sleep. Whatever they did, it must have taken a long time. What should have been a four hour trip had taken them a full twenty four. Bright shafts of sun slipped between the high towers, greeting the fox home.
Rita turned to the driver. Kyros appeared lost in his own thoughts. He occasionally snapped out of his daze to yell obscenities or glare at anybody who leered at Rita or his car. Kyros didn't like anybody who checked out his car.
They parked it in a friend's private garage. After he had covered with a tarp, he took Rita's arm in his own and with the other hand fished for a cigarette. Rita didn't approve of smoking but helped Kyros with the lighter any way. His large hands were shaking. And she refused to believe it was because he was colder than she was.
Did he regret it? God, she hoped not. Because, even though she should have, Rita wasn't regretting anything. The overwhelming urge to just leave couldn't have been ignored.
"Kyros?" she panted, and watched her breath in the cold air, "do you regret it? Leaving, I mean."
He didn't answer. Instead, he quickened his pace, turning here and there without warning her. "I didn't make ya leave, Rita. If you wanted to turn back, you shoulda done it 'round Boston." Kyros immediately winced when he mentioned the city. He remembered Rita started crying as soon as she saw the name on the exit sign. Her family was somewhere there. In a drawer, as she incoherently explained when he pulled her closer.
Already, her voice was hitching. If she was going to cry, they might as well sit down so that nobody would think he hurt her in some way. Kyros sighed and pulled them both to sit on a stoop. It seems as if neither of them were very stable at the moment. He shook his head and laughed. He honestly didn't know why.
"I'm sorry…for mentioning it, I mean."
Rita sniffed and was glad he didn't say anything about being sorry for their deaths. For some reason, that was inconceivable. That just meant…well, she didn't know what, but she just didn't want to hear about that. To hear that someone was sorry for her sister while Melissa was alive hurt enough; Glisscielle pride wouldn't allow apologies for two people. "I don't regret it," she told him, to test her voice. Not as shaky as she expected. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't."
"Nah," he replied, his bad mood lightening by the second, "We're in New York, Rita! This is ten times better than any small town with it's own town square. We could go to Time Square and tell Carson to go to hell! Aren't you happy?" Kyros tried his best to sound jovial, and he pulled Rita to her feet.
"Not really. Carson Daly hasn't done anything to me. Is that where we're going?" she asked as they plodded on. He shook his head. It appeared his effort to cheer her up succeeded in only cheering himself up.
"Nope. We're goin' to Ma's."
"Is that a restaurant?" Again, she was panting. The fox was very fast paced when he was happy. They took some more turns.
"No," he laughed, confused by her question. "It's my ma's. My mother. And here we are." Rita looked to a three story house, squeezed between carbon copy houses.
"The bottom two stories are ours. Come on." He insistently tugged her up the stairs and then knocked loudly on the door, the buzzer being broken.
"They won't mind me staying?" she asked through chattering teeth. Kyros tried to warm her by enveloping her with his jacket. The one she had worn to Buffington's party.
"Hell no. Come to think of it, there aren't any lights on. God, Rita, why didn't you tell me?" Verity refrained from pointing that Kyros had two very capable eyes himself. He did drive her, after all.
"Wait," he said suddenly, as if she were in a hurry to leave. The Yankees jacket withdrew its warmth as he pulled away, and, again, tugged her along without any explanation. Rita tried desperately to keep a tight grip as he wove through the labyrinth of concrete. She had never seen so much people at one place, all so busy and so indifferent. Was it possible that in Anomina, there was a special time warp that slowed everybody's pace?
They finally stopped at a cobble stoned corner. Rita, not caring where they had landed, rested on a bench, to catch her breath and wipe the beginnings of sweat. Kyros, however, was still terribly excited.
"What the f—" Rita cleared her throat. "…hell?"
"That's still a bad word," she protested. He shrugged.
"It's a church," he pointed out, watching the building before them. Rita nodded in agreement, because the cross was a dead give away. That and the steeple, the stained glass windows, and the chiming bells. "You don't get it," he continued. "We don't go to church. No offense. My dad just thinks it's conformity. He says Christians are called sheep for a reason."
"Kyros!"
"I said no offense!"
Before she could reply, the holy double doors burst open, releasing a large red headed clan and a large crowd of young people. They were tossing rice up—or, rather, at each other once one of the twenty somethings offended one of the red haired women. All grain belligerence halted once the double doors opened again, revealing marital paradise.
They would have made a very admirable couple—young, beautiful, bathed by the blessed sunlight—had they not been frowning.
"Fu—" The short, dark haired girl suddenly realized whose stoop they stood on, and dragged the groom down the steps and nearly directly in front of Kyros and Rita.
"Fuck, Valdis, you stepped on my train!"
"You tripped me when it was time to go!"
"Because you stepped on my train," she reiterated with a stamp of her delicate foot. Beyond them, Rita could see the crowd dumbfounded as to what to do with the rice. Some red haired children were unwisely feeding them to the pigeons.
"Maria," the taller red haired man thundered. "Nobody made you get a train. You wanted one." Kyros, visibly irritated, wandered to a pretzel stand.
"Yeah, well," Maria faltered. "You wanted a church wedding. Now I'll have to divorce you lawfully and religiously! Valdis Eldson, the freakin' moron who can't keep off his wife's dress!" Each word was emphasized by a slap on each cheek.
"What does that make you?" he countered.
Maria battered him with her white rose bouquet for good measure. A few petals fell tragically. "Maria Tybal, woman who tolerates freakin' moron!"
"Maria Tybal Eldson," he corrected smugly.
"Damn Eldsons," she claimed heatedly, not caring if she damned herself.
Rita, pausing for a bit, noticed that Maria's chantilly lace dress was actually very pretty, and to step on any part of it would have been a shame. Then she gratefully accepted a salty pretzel from Kyros, and made room for him on the bench.
"I didn't want a church wedding," he exclaimed. The crowd drew closer to the arguing marriage, some waving at Kyros as they did so. "Your absent aunt wanted one. And you went along with it!"
"Yeah well, I didn't want to get knocked up. But your swimmers just went along with it!"
The surrounding persons gave a collective gasp. Kyros's pretzel fell to the dirty side walk. Verity, the only one unaffected, guessed by Maria's wince that this union wasn't entirely out of pure love.
Maria bit her pretty lip as she turned the crowd, back to Kyros and Verity. "Oh," she giggled, ironically innocent-sounding. "I'm…pregnant." Rita wouldn't have been able to tell, considering the woman's petite figure. Glancing to her left, she saw that Kyros was in the same shocked state as the rest of them.
Still trying to salvage their enthusiasm, Maria giggled again. "Just think of it as two reasons to celebrate," she suggested brightly. They looked at another questioningly. "Um…"
Rita, by this time, saw no hope of reviving their formerly joyous attitude. Then the copper toned, squirming girl abruptly yelled, "Party at Snows!" Maria grabbed Valdis's hand and hopped into the nearest taxi cab. All eyes lit up at the word "party" and the formal audience followed suit, except for one thirty something woman with wholesome beauty and copper curls.
"Kyros," she said affably, engulfing Rita's friend with a great bear hug. "You know she would have invited you, but I told her you were on the mission."
Kyros leaned back against the bench, one hand running through his hair. The other arm was used to hug Rita's shoulders. "Ma," he sighed dismally. "Why didn't you call me and tell me she was getting married?"
Much to Rita's surprise, Mrs. Snow rapped her son's forehead. "She couldn't be your back up girl forever. Who's next on your list?" Verity frowned in confusion.
"Elizabeth Hurley," he muttered. His mother's brown eyes brightened considerably.
"Ooh, she'll give my grand children nice cheek bones. Of course," she added speculatively, turning to Rita. "This one would give the girls great hair." Kyros blushed to the roots of his hair, suddenly remembering his guest.
"Ma, stop embarrassing me. This is Rita Glisscielle. Rita, this is my mother." They shook hands, yet Mrs. Snow never lost the calculating look.
The matronly fox chatted affably as they strolled along the side walk, Kyros occasionally trying to hail a cab. "The circus is staying tomorrow—not the real circus, dear, just Kyros' bum pals who move from friend to friend. By the way, Ky, why are you home early? Is the mission over?"
Rita waited tensely for his answer. Instead, the women heard in reply, "C'mon ma, we gotta hurry if we're gonna make it to our party."
Way to change the subject, Rita thought as they climbed into the taxi.
~*~*~*~
The impromptu party lasted until seven in the morning, much to the disappointment of Rita, who was exhausted. She hadn't even met the couple of honor, who had left around eleven. All the sixteen year old learned from the hours long event was that virtually everyone in New York City, at least in this area, had a potty mouth.
"Get the hell outta my house," she heard Mr. Snow yell from the front door. "Damn it, Ruthie, they drank all the alcohol!" Ruthie was Kyros's mother.
"That might have been one of the children," she called back. Rita silently wished Mr. Snow luck on finding out who. Kyros, she learned, was the oldest of six children and counting. She had been ready to drift off to sleep before a familiar grip landed on her hand. Kyros simply had to introduce her to the circus, despite the ungodly hour. Half asleep, she stumbled down the stairs to the basement, which held a variety of good looking men. Had not Verity been wishing for a pillow and a blanket, she would have cared very much.
"Guys, this is Rita. Rita, that's dumb ass, stupid ass, candy ass, gay ass, and dill hole. The rest are too lame to have names." Rita neatly stepped away from him just as the projectiles were launched his way. "All right," he conceded once they ceased fire, "I was just kidding. That blond one's Virgil Woden." Virgil smiled slightly.
"The ugly one's Trojan Gris. Don't think we don't make fun of his first name." All the boys laughed, but none really claimed the identity. And Rita had no clue as to why they made fun of his first name.
"Which ugly one?" Rita asked nervously. They laughed again, this time for her indirect insult, and suddenly she felt tremendously less afraid. A medium sized, yellow haired boy jumped up and shook her hand cheerfully, introduced himself as just "Tro" and gave Kyros a hard punch on the way back to his seat. Rita shook her head; she would never understand how male friendships automatically included insults and violence.
"The one with the funky blue hair is Ymir Woden, Virgil's cousin." It wasn't exactly "funky blue," Rita decided when Ymir nodded at her from his position directly in front of the big screen, it was more of a pleasant, winter sky blue. Vibrant, just like his eyes.
"The one with all the rip off jewelry is Khepri Vedas. He just moved here from Egypt, which means he sometimes talks trash about us without anybody knowing what the hell he's saying."
"And sometimes I just say shut the hell up, ya damn moron," Khepri replied pleasantly in an unaccented voice, and shook his shiny black hair out of his eyes. To Verity, he looked rather like a handsome ancient pharaoh, stolid and dangerous. Then it occurred to her that "handsome ancient pharaoh" might actually be on his résumé.
"Yup, that's his favorite. That's Geraint, Tristram, and Percivale Logres. They're triplets, in case you didn't notice." The triplets had sharp angled faces, with the hair sharing the color of hers in a crew cut. They, and Tro, were the only ones shorter than her. She was later told that Geraint wore glasses in an effort to disguise a false eye, which was a tragic result from the Battle. Tristram was the one with the thin scar running along his left jaw side, and Perci was, by his own words, "flawless."
"Sit down, Rita Glisscielle," Khepri invited, wiping trash off the cushion next to him. "So how long have you and Kyros been going out?"
She shook her head. "We're just friends. We met a few weeks ago in Anomina." Khepri looked at her blankly. "You know," she continued, "in Massachusetts, near Boston. On the mission—"
"Oh then, never mind. We never ask about his mission stuff. That's all his business," Khepri dismissed the subject easily. Rita glanced at Kyros, who was busy playing thumb war with Geraint. She wondered how they'd react to the news of his "honorable discharge" or if he'd ever tell them.
"So you're not dating anybody?" Tro asked curiously, as he lazily tossed card after card into an empty popcorn bowl placed on Ymir Woden's stomach. Rita guessed he was about twelve, but remarkably skilled with his aim.
Rita automatically thought of Jared, and then felt guilty for not automatically thinking of Bryan. "I wouldn't really know what you'd call it…" she answered truthfully, her confusion fully displayed on her face.
"Well, so long as you're technically not taken, there's a party tonight—"
"Hey, shove it, Trojan," Kyros interjected, looking up from his thumb war and lost the battle. "Hands off this one." Rita looked quizzically from Tro to Kyros. She was ready to assure him that the little boy certainly wasn't hitting on her when Kyros explained, "He's tried to get with every woman I've dated. Like I'm his freakin' idol, or something. I'm this close to gettin' a restraining order."
"Oh yeah," Perci remembered aloud, with the same accent as Kyros, "I forgot to tell ya. I caught Tro when he was looking through your underwear drawer while you were gone. It was a weird 'Talented Mr. Ripley' kinda moment."
Perci received a mouthful of pillow for his lie, which drew lazy chuckles from his friends.
"The hell I did," Tro protested hotly. "Besides, all your women hit on me, saying they can't go no satisfaction."
Tristram threw another pillow, Rita guessed to his seconds younger brother. "You don't get to quote lame ass songs until your twenty one, ya hear me?"
"All his women?" Virgil teased further. Tro nodded. "Even Maria?"
All boys had the same reaction to the name; apprehension and admiration.
"Well, maybe not Maria," Tro admitted. Mrs. Snow began to call them upstairs.
"Yeah, she's scary," Khepri agreed. "But, you know what?" Khepri added, addressing Kyros. "I think she paid my bar tab last week."
"How do you know it was her?" Ymir countered, flipping through the channels.
"All Al said was some black haired, short chick walked in and paid it after eating all his cashews."
"Hey, let's try to be politically correct here," Kyros warned, causing surprise among his friends. "Rita's here, so you say 'black haired short woman," he pointed out. "You can't swear or be politically incorrect." Rita smiled at him, thankful for his thoughtfulness, despite the fact he had ignored it before. From above, she could still hear Mrs. Snow calling for them.
Geraint frowned. "Are you really that PC? Cuz, just to warn you, we're not. At all. We'd probably offend half the hemisphere in ten minutes."
Kyros answered for her. "She's proper, guys, like a nun."
"Man, what is with you and the spiritual girls? You date that cop, she joins a cult. You date the pretzel chick, she takes off for a spiritual journey. Now, you bring home a nun," Ymir scolded, but with the smallest of smiles.
"First of all, Wendy didn't join a cult, she just got more involved with her community," Kyros explained uneasily.
"An all white wearing, blood taking, night hours community," Virgil added to Rita, and then expected some sort of a response. She only frowned in puzzlement and asked:
"She became a nurse?" Khepri laughed aloud with his friends and gave Rita two hearty thumps on her knee. She frowned even more when his hand stayed there.
"I like her," Khepri declared. "She's a lot different from pretzel girl."
"Hey, she also sold sodas," Kyros defended his ex girl friend. "And her name was Calley."
"As in –fornia?" Rita asked with a smile, now feeling more apart of the group.
"No," Kyros replied, "as in Calley Migne. All right, go ahead. Start with the calamine lotion jokes." None came, just a unanimous laugh that suggested it was already an old joke. "Any way, she didn't go on a spiritual journey. She went hiking. She just forgot to hike back. And Rita's not a nun, she's just similar one. Remember, Tristram, when our parents sent us to that Catholic private school, and there was that nun who hit us with a ruler…" The two were laughing even before the Arctic fox finished the story.
"Into corporal punishment?" Khepri asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, reminding Rita of Bryan for a moment. One minute so serious, the next flirting; unlike Kyros, who was always flirting.
"Oh hey, and don't forget, Maria got re-baptized after she dumped Kyros," Tro reminded them. Kyros protested that it was months after their split, but was ignored.
"Ya know, that didn't help her attitude any," Perci observed. "I even got her a present for that day, and she sent it back to me with a very threatening note."
"Whatchya get her?" Ymir asked.
Perci actually blushed. "Uh…chocolate kinky underwear." Kyros actually rose from his seat and kicked him in his shin.
"You dumb…butt! That was my ex girlfriend! You don't see me goin' around giving your ex girlfriends edible kinky crap!"
"Yeah, all two of them," Geraint laughed.
"It was a joke!" Perci exclaimed, "Just a joke!…All right, partial little fantasy, but other wise complete joke."
"I'm surprised Valdis didn't kill you," Tro commented, and began searching for something beneath the cushions. "He practically maimed me when I checked her out."
Perci shook his head. "See, Valdis I could take. But Maria…" he shook his head again. "That's a full time bitch."
All heads turned when they heard one dainty clearing of the throat. Not even a full day after the ceremony, and there was all ready trouble in paradise.
Rita saw a petite girl, all but bursting with passion that Rita couldn't help but admire her. And be automatically jealous. Short, pretty, and well, so interesting; everything Verity knew she wasn't.
"Well damn," the little vision said lamentably, "full time bitch? And I've only been gettin' part time pay."
Then, with the authority of a queen, she swept into the horse shoe of couches and sat directly next to Rita. With a warm smile contrasting the cold demeanor earlier, she said brightly, "Hi! I'm Maria Yolken Tybal…Eldson. Keep forgetting that part," she giggled girlishly. "What's your name?"
"Verity," she answered, just before girl grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs. She barely had time to register the other boys reactions before she disappeared to the second floor. Rita was sure her shoulder would be dislocated before the week was over. All for the terribly important sake of chocolate chip cookies.
"Listen," came Maria's muffled voice from somewhere in the pantry. Rita waited outside in one of the kitchen chairs. "As important as cookies are, that's not the only reason I brought you up here…oh my God, how old is this caviar?"
"I didn't think caviar was important as cookies."
"It's not," Maria agreed as she emerged from the pantry, carrying an armful of sweets… except chocolate chip cookies. "But Kyros is. Maybe more, but I think cookies have been around longer."
Rita regarded her carefully. "Is this the 'don't hurt my friend' sort of conversation? If it is, it's not needed because—"
Maria shook her pretty little head. "No. I just wanted to make sure there's nothing important here."
"Are you keeping your options open, then? Because, if you're leading one on just in case the current one leaves, that is really, really mean—"
"No! God, will you keep interrupting? I just need to know if there' s something special. Is there?"
Rita studied the wall paper for some time before answering. "He gave me my first kiss." She heard Maria give a tired, depressed sigh.
"I was afraid of this, the moment I saw you, looking out of place in there. It's the kinda girl who shares dirty jokes with the rest of them that I ignore. All right, I'll try to explain. Have you heard of the Final Battle?"
Verity studied the girl sitting across from her, taking in her fragile form, her earnest ember eyes, and those mysterious scars on her left wrist. Maria Yolken Tybal Eldson. The name sounded so familiar…
"Did Kyros give you your first hickey?" It was Maria's turn to look uncomfortable.
"I can't believe he's still telling that story," she murmured apologetically. Her small, manicured fingers crept into one package of cookies.
"You're the Fourth Wild Power?" Rita exclaimed, once again taking in the slight form.
"I was. Wanna make something of it?" Maria actually looked ready to fight, and Rita shook her head nervously, though God knew how interesting a tussle with this pregnant pixie would have been. The smaller girl lowered her voice. "Any way, about the Final Battle. At the time, Kyros was dating a vampire called Nissa. She was really pretty, and really tough, and just about as 'Alias' slash Buffy slash Xena as you could get. And she, like many, died. Do you see what I'm saying here?"
Rita bit her lip, trying to understand. She was usually fairly good at understanding things. "Do you mean the Dickens-Mary syndrome?"
"Um…nope. I mean that, in her death, he sorta dreamt her up to be this perfect woman. And, you know, without her being around, nobody contradicted that dream. Have you heard of the girls he's dated afterward? Me, cop, pretzel lunatic." Rita nodded. "Did you know we were all dark haired? Bitchy? All at one point nagged him about something, or ordered him to do something?"
"Exactly. Dickens' Mary died and he immortalized her. That's what I said."
"Well…yeah, okay, Miss Hooked on Phonics. But I just wanted you to understand that we're just substitutes. And if Kyros wants a relationship with you, because you're dark haired and more mature than he is, it's only about her. Don't get hurt, understand?" Rita nodded, having nothing to say. Suddenly, Maria didn't like the awkwardness her friendly advice had caused. "This is just wrong. The largest pantry in New York and they don't have chocolate chip cookies. C'mon, we'll make some."
Rita watched dubiously as Maria explored the kitchen, occasionally gathering items that were "probably used in cookies." In the freezer, much to Rita's puzzlement, was a large amount of funny shaped organs. Iliana, another girl Maria knew, had once tried to teach the fourth wild power to make some pancakes. And seeing how both pancakes and cookies were sweet and flat…well, they had to have the same ingredients, it made perfect sense.
As the kitchen table filled with more and more "sensible" bowls and ingredients, Rita sat thinking. At first, she had been annoyed. How dare Kyros use her as a dead girl's sub? From what she knew, this battle was years ago. Just because he had pain from one experience was no reason to inflict it on others. Kyros Snow was just lucky she hadn't gotten emotionally involved. Or he'd have one tall, plain bawling girl on his hands. At least she wouldn't feel too bad when she left New York. A heavy feeling slipped over her when she thought that. She'd have to leave New York eventually.
"So," the amateur baker attempted, sensing somebody's mood was flushing down the toilet, "what college do you go to?"
Rita smiled, and looked down at her hands. This happened with people who didn't know her. Once she opened her mouth, she was deemed older woman. "I don't go to college. I'm a graduating junior at Anomina High. Only sixteen." Maria blushed prettily, the way Rita had always wanted to blush, and apologized.
"I guess that must annoy you, huh? Being thought of as older all the time. People always treat me like a little kid," Maria answered with a rueful, somewhat bitter sweet smile. "I'm the person everybody looks at and thinks, she needs to be taken care of."
Verity regarded the smaller girl carefully, and for some reason thought of fourteen year old Verity. That's how she had been; independent, stubborn, always thinking she could take care of herself when she really couldn't. If Maria lived long enough, would she realize that? If she lived another life, would she look back and realize, that Maria Tybal was weak, and she bit off more than she could chew? Then Rita shrugged off the questions, and began to mix something Mrs. Eldson told her to mix. "I'm the person who takes care of things."
After a moment's consideration, Maria nodded. "That definitely sounds suckier." She then tried to see if using broken chocolate bars was the same as using semi sweet chocolate chips. "But you're smart. I wish I was smart. Then I wouldn't have to get out of stupid situations."
"Such as?" Rita asked with a cocked eyebrow. As far as she could see, new glasses and all, this girl had the perfect life. Married, young, beautiful, and an equally beautiful kid on the way.
"This," Maria replied guiltily and timidly pointed at her stomach. "But, seeing as I don't want to talk about this, we'll talk about you. How's high school?"
"Fine. Everything was running smoothly when I left."
"What, do you like, run the place?" Rita shrugged modestly.
"Presidency is really good on college applications."
Maria stopped scrutinizing the variety of chocolate before her. "You're president? Wow, extremely involved in school. Verity Glisscielle, you're the complete opposite of sixteen year old Maria Tybal."
As in you were pretty and popular and had normal guys drooling over you? Naturally, Rita held her tongue. All she said was, "I can't imagine that being a good thing."
Maria noticed her hold back and smiled appreciatively. "How very diplomatic of you, trying to get on my good side. Wise beyond your years, Verity." Then she leaned forward, chocolate eyes analyzing green ones. "Very wise," she repeated softly.
Goodness, was "Old Soul" written somewhere in the irises? All somebody had to do was squint and they'd automatically know? That was fair, not at all. She should have a choice as to whether people found out. But Maria knew, and Maria clapped her hands with the discovery. What was it like? Who did she meet? It was all nothing and nobody.
"Then that means you wish you weren't. I can imagine…one life's hard enough to handle…" As her new acquaintance trailed off, Verity took advantage of it.
"We'll talk about something else. You. Where' s your husband? Is he your—"
"My soul mate? Yes," Maria admitted miserably. "Although sometimes I like to think that whoever pairs soul mates up picks name out of a hat. The man's completely unbearable…Oh, be forewarned that I'm spoiled. So if you get me started, I am always right, and everybody else is hopelessly wrong."
At least she was straight forward about it. "Why is he unbearable?"
"These are his rules: I can't put on nail polish, because nail polish remover has organic solvents in it. I can't jog any more. I can't eat too many junk foods because that can lead to an over weight baby. I have to be in bed by eight, missing all of the prime time shows. I'm not allowed near anybody who smokes or drinks, which is about half of my friends at NYU. The man inspects the taxi cabs before I could get in. And I am not allowed to take any sort of medication for my migraines, which have become more frequent because he's being a pain in my big, pregnant ass."
Although she visibly winced at the last word, Rita decided not to comment, seeing as this was a spoiled, moody little girl she dealt with. She guessed this was the notorious Valdis Eldson who was being a pain in the rear, which wasn't that large. Nothing, besides the belly, was that large. Verity suddenly knew why Valdis was being so cautious. Looking at her small bones, her tiny waist, and the overall fragility of Maria Eldson…this was a high risk pregnancy. Pregnancy for teenagers was high risk because their bodies, in general, were still developing and too small to support a child. Sometimes there was just too much hormonal confusion, whether or not to help with growth or to help with fetal development. Maria appeared as if she still shopped in the girls section.
"So…" Rita searched for a semi-neutral subject, anything to clear away the stormy expression on Maria's face. "What are you majoring in?"
At the question, Maria smiled. Radiated, actually. Rita guessed that was what all pregnant ladies did when happy. "Greek mythology, but I'm switching to creative writing. I'm going to be a children's book writer. Originally, I wanted to write about the Greek gods, but I just don't know how to interpret Zeus's philandering ways into important lessons for the youth."
"Um…use protection?" Maria laughed and shook her head.
"You can't stay with the boys all the time. They're already rubbing off on you."
Rita blushed to her ear lobes, wondering why she just made a very Kyros comment. "How are you paying for it all?"
Maria looked bashful and began breaking the chocolate bars again. "I do have a job, at a daycare. And I am trying to pay for it all and meet rent. I've barely gone shopping at all…"
"But?"
"Remember that pain in my pregnant ass?" Rita nodded, laughing. "Yeah, he helps with the finances. Before you ask, he doesn't do anything. At all. It's all so unfair, isn't it? All he has to do is play around on the Stock Exchange and boom, he's rich. Any time his stocks slips, he sells some priceless antique that his mother willed to him. I bet he has a whole island of antiques. Hell, I bet he has a whole island."
"I suppose that would pay for a college education. Are you sure this is the dough?" Rita knew little about the culinary arts except reheating. But she did know that cookie dough was not supposed to look like runny Elmer's glue. Maria studied the contents of the bowl and, without any hesitation, added three eggs to it. An extra cup of self rising flour for good measure.
After an hour or so of conversation that alternated between inexplicable exuberance and childish anger, Kyros emerged from the basement victorious. Rita spotted him at the entrance, a look of shock on his face. A stab of pity bit into her. Poor Kyros. He was so in love with this Nissa that he couldn't let go, even when trying to move on to others. And he never intentionally hurt any of them. She hoped that, wherever she was, Nissa appreciated Kyros' devotion.
"What the hell did you do to my kitchen?" He demanded, mouth agape.
Maria looked up from the raw cookies she was trying to shape into nice round patties and saw the package of real cookies in his hand. Literally jumping from her chair, she ran up to him and snatched the sweets.
"Cookies! Kyros, you are officially my best friend. Get me milk that's not expired and we'll become more than friends," which was, Verity decided, the most Machiavellian deal she had ever heard. Mostly because Maria batted her eyes and appeared serious about it.
"Can't you go to your house? After you clean up this mess, I mean."
"Of course we'll clean it up," Rita replied indignantly. "We wouldn't leave this for your mother. What do you take us for, ungrateful guests?" Kyros grinned at Maria, who frowned.
"You break one cigar box and all of a sudden you're a criminal. I think that if your father's forgiven and forgotten, you should do the same." Then she began to eat, something that appeared to absorb all her concentration.
Kyros petted Rita's head affectionately as he sat down. He smelled of tobacco again, that and stale food. There was a complacent grin on his face that had been absent for the past few hours.
"I just gotta call on my cell," he commented. Maria shrugged indifferently and Rita, who was clearing up the catastrophic baked goods, tried her best to look interested. "Now, Maria," he chided, "did you run away from home?"
At his teasing tone, Maria's head whipped up from the cookies, mouth full. Verity thought she looked like the kid who stole the cookie jar. Guiltily, she nodded slowly.
"Well, I informed him as to where you were."
Maria stamped her foot, and placed her hands on her hips. "Mmmmmmm?"
Kyros interpreted that as a "why?" He sighed. "Because he threatened to hunt me and my future children down if I didn't tell him."
"Mmmmmm," was the angry retort and Maria began to pace, angrily chewing the cookies. "But I can't stand him! He's making my life impossible. He's been so rude, and so…inconsiderate of what I want…"
"Shut up, Maria. You didn't even invite any of us to the wedding. That was kinda rude."
Verity saw that Maria's eyes glowed at the "shut up" part and wondered which limb Kyros would lose. But all the runaway said was, "It was a private ceremony. Nobody except my aunt was invited." Now that was a blatant lie, Rita observed. Perhaps she hadn't noticed them sitting on the bench. But Maria continued. "Kyros! Did you really have to tell him? Now he's gonna storm over here, and just bully me around, and I can't even physically run away from him because that would be 'over exerting my body.'"
Coincidental timing had always been Mari's enemy, because, just as she spoke, Verity heard Mrs. Snow's surprised hello and angry footsteps that reached them in seconds. Suddenly, a shockingly tall man filled the entire entrance way. He, like Kyros had red hair, except his was of a darker shade, almost the color of blood. And there was no easy humor written on his handsome visage. Something wavering between worry and murderous anger shone in his sea colored eyes.
This couldn't have been Maria's soul mate, Verity thought. He was unhappy, that much as clear, and very untidy. Almost the polar opposite of the jovial, tailored Maria to her left. And, for a future father, he was disturbingly violent-looking…
"Maria," he growled in a deep, disapproving tone. Both Kyros and Verity were impressed that Maria didn't back away as her soul mate stalked closer to her. Instead she raised her chin in defiance.
"Valdis Eldson, if you dare kidnap me again, you will no longer be able to have children from here on out. And I am so not talking about another kick." She even wagged her finger in warning, as if talking to a child. Those dangerous eyes, now a flaming blue, slid to Kyros.
"Did you have anything to do with this?"
"Hey!" Kyros instantly protested. "I just got here from Boston. Ask anybody, ask," he looked at Maria, and frowned. "Never mind, don't ask the pathological liar. Ask…Verity over there, I drove her here. And she can't lie, she really can't… Besides, you just can't break into a man's house and accuse him without any evidence."
Valdis coolly queried who paid the taxes for the abode, and Kyros, properly shamed, looked away and muttered under his breath, "Tall, impregnating, violent jack ass."
"They're not the best of friends," Maria explained quietly to the sixteen year old.
Verity laughed, because she had never seen Kyros so subdued, even under Quinn. Then she tried to meet Valdis' gaze. And failed. Staring at the linoleum, she nodded. "It's true, we just drove here this morning and Maria came by unexpectedly."
"Es tu, Brute?" she heard Maria murmur. Then Maria changed her tactics, so quickly Verity stepped back.
Maria's full lips curved up slowly, licking them for full measure. Her taut stance melted into languorous curves as she closed the difference between them. As if Kyros and Verity had disappeared, Maria's arms wound around Valdis' neck, fingers intimately playing with his collar. Her prey eyed her warily, slightly bewildered in her metamorphosis.
"Valdis, sweetie," she sighed after placing a lingering kiss on his lips, "you want what's best for me?" Valdis nodded silently. Verity turned questioningly to Kyros, wondering why that Southern accent just intensified. But Kyros wasn't paying attention to Verity. Of course not. Not when Maria played seductress, those eyes wide large and guileless.
"Then, naturally, I know what I should do and what I shouldn't do right?" she continued. This was the part where Valdis would succumb and the petite and beautiful would win the battle. Or so Verity thought.
Instead, Valdis' eyebrows drew close together. With some irritated mutterings, his hands clamped on her elbows and Maria found her arms trapped against her sides. "Hey!"
"No," Valdis cut in, still angry. "you listen, you little manipulative midget. You can't kiss your way out of this one. I don't care if you cry all the way home, I am not going to let you ruin the health of our child."
"You're being irrational. Why don't you just lock me up in a padded room until my water breaks?" Maria demanded as she struggled out of his arms. Unsuccessful, she was hoisted into an inescapable embrace, not unlike the kind Rhett used against Scarlett before taking her up to their bedroom and ravishing her. "Let go of me you over sized, retarded cave man!" Verity watched, wondering exactly was the appropriate behavior for this sort of situation, as Maria managed to elbow her husband in the chest. "Ass hole! When I divorce you—and don't think I won't—I hope the unlucky girl you date gives you uber crabs. Let go!"
Despite the injury, Valdis' fury drained away and he kissed the top of her head. "No can do, my little slut muffin. Kyros, for safety reasons, don't come by the apartment for a few months. Verity, nice to meet you." And with that, he turned and left in the direction of the front door. Sounds of nails on the wall and things being broken ensued.
"Help! Verity! Kyros! SOMEBODY! I'm being kidnapped! Call the police! Call Thierry! For God's sake, why the hell isn't somebody picking up the phone and calling a damn soul—" The desperate pleas were soon silenced after a slam of the door.
While Kyros laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks, Rita cleared the rest of the mess Hurricane Maria had caused. His good mood was contagious, however, and soon she was giggling with him. Both felt as if they had experienced a trashy talk show.
"Fifty bucks says they last six months." Verity frowned at Kyros' proposition.
"Gambling's wrong…and at least give them a year." She couldn't return his smile. Maria had made her wonder why she hadn't called anybody, not a damn soul.
~*~*~*~
Animona
There were no words to describe Rashel's shock. Here she was, eating her ordered pizza, monitoring everybody's actions during lunch. Then this punk came up and demanded:
"Where the hell did you put her?"
Bryan Smith did not look happy. And so much for the Daybreakers' low profile.
"Who's her?" she asked nonchalantly, finishing the crust and wiping her mouth with a napkin.
"Verity. One second she was in my house, the next she's disappeared, and I have to replace my iron gate. Where is she?"
Instead of answering, she asked, "When did this happen?"
Bryan frowned. She was one of the scheming Daybreakers. She was supposed to know. "Two days ago."
Rashel's professional mood was noticeably dampened. Apparently, that day was not a good day. "I have no idea where she is. Maybe Boston."
"What the hell is she doing in Boston?" The question and word choice immediately sparked her anger. He had no right to be insensitive.
"Maybe she's identifying the bodies," she snapped just as Quinn approached. Her soul mate ignored their suspect's presence, because he appeared murderous himself.
"What the hell happened to my car?"
Rashel smiled and pretended to ponder. Evidently, "hell" was the word of the day. She then gave a short smile and moved on to her next slice. It never mattered how much she ate, as long as she worked it off during combat practice. "I hit a squirrel when I was looking for Kyros."
"There's a dent the size of Texas," he thundered, standing over her.
"Did I mention that he hit back? Feisty little rodent."
"What bodies?" Bryan demanded. "What's going on, what's happened?"
"Kyros is missing," Quinn stated tiredly, sitting beside her.
"So's Verity," Rashel told both of them. "I understand for Kyros to leave but Rita…she has responsibilities."
Bryan nodded, although not really apart of the conversation. "I know this is serious, and I'm sorta your enemy, but—"
"Sorta our enemy?" Quinn snapped, already in a bad mood because of Kyros' sudden disappearance. "How 'bout sorta a pain in our asses? While you were somewhere, trying to seduce the one girl who's done nothing to deserve any more misfortunes, we were trying to take care of funeral arrangements, custody problems, house payments, and other legal shit. I don't care if you worry about some canceled date. Verity has a lot to think about now that her family's gone, and you're not high on the priority list."
Bryan was momentarily stunned, but scowled when Quinn threatened to make him sleep indefinitely with that damn wondrous psychic ability. He walked away, disgusted that the Night World had let an asset like John Quinn slip through their fingers. Bryan himself had no strong loyalty to the society that produced him, but he couldn't bring himself to join the Daybreakers. They were just too damn good. He imagined the traitor Elder Thierry's mansion was full of hippies and folk music and people holding hands. They were just so…good.
But then again, so was Verity. Bryan contemplated her as he walked to his car with half a mind to drive to the state capital. She wasn't the kind of girl of you dated, he decided as he pulled out of the parking lot, nearly running over the school guard. The dating kind of girl giggled, twirled their hair, pretended to be interested in whatever you were saying, and worried inanely over what to wear on outings. Rita laughed when something was actually funny, her hair was out of the way, either listened or changed the subject, and didn't give a damn what anybody wore.
That wasn't the kind of girl you dated. That was the kind of girl you married.
Bryan came to screeching halt on Main Street. Married? Married? He gained speed after some angry motorists gave him a few choice words through the window. He didn't want to marry some plain, holier-than-thou, human Old Soul. He wanted to marry a sweet girl who'd call him on his bullshit, but would be nice about it. Sufficiently take care of the household while he went on indefinite business trips. Be interesting enough to keep him interested as long as the marriage lasted, the separation caused by death. Pretty enough to pass on good genes, but not so pretty as to tempt other men. Tolerate moving place to place when he succeeded his father's position.
"She wanted to go to France," he found himself saying. Whoa. Thinking about his future wife shouldn't have led to thinking about Rita again. Besides, Rita gave up the dream of going to France after Melissa's accident. But why did she move on to advanced placement French if she wasn't still hoping?
They had discussed this during Mr. Vicar's debate. She would have called his little investigation in her mind an "invasion of privacy and infringement of the Bill of Rights." While she slept at his house, he was just ensuring her safety. And Bryan couldn't very well ensure safety if he didn't have the information. He had went straight for her memories, too.
Melissa, who everyone had believed to recover and go to college, was attached to the equivalent of a ball and chain. He could only imagine her guilt now, if she allowed the deaths to sink in. Verity in youth grabbed any opportunity to throw herself a pity party, just as she grabbed any reason to dance or laugh. Now, like one of his father's workers, she would carefully arrange each emotion from most important to last. In this situation, grief would be last.
But she ran away, damn her. She ran away with that shifter. He didn't condemn the escape. He just wished, for some odd reason, that she had run to him. Asked him to take her away. Bryan wished that she would have fled with her child hood friend, not some acquaintance of a few weeks.
"What does it matter?" Bryan asked himself angrily. He didn't care about the Old Soul, who was supposed to be smart for all her experiences. A gypsy in Spain, a nun in France, a spinster in Western US. Those lives hadn't taught her much. To hell with her. He refused to spend another second thinking about the one that got away.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, the phone rang. Probably John Otis. He had said something derogatory about Rita this morning in the green house, and it just so happened to be Kick Ass Morning in Bryan's stolen palm pilot. Bad luck for Otis, and the holly bushes he landed on. With a sigh welcomed solely by the empty house, Bryan laid on the couch and let the machine get it.
He hadn't slept in days. Maybe that was why he was so wound up. He'd just catch some shut eye and all these human problems would go away.
"Hello…it's me. I-I'm in New York."
~*~*~*~
School had ended, with no exhilarating events whatsoever. The only sight Jared enjoyed was Otis painfully hobbling to the nurse's office, which had been a perfect opportunity to trip him. He hadn't seen Rita, which was odd. He waited on his couch for the Daybreakers to come and explain her absence to him. Rik was with Fayth and Quinn was with Rashel and Winnie was off collecting ingredients…
Three rings. "Will somebody get the damn phone?" he yelled by habit before realizing his stupidity. After some search in the caverns of his couch, Jared found the portable.
"Who is it and what do you want?"
No response, just a feminine sigh.
"Just to warn you, if this is an obscene call, I'm probably gonna enjoy it."
"Goodness, Jared, can't you think of anything besides copulation?" Rita exclaimed, obviously annoyed.
"Well, how can I not think about sex if you call me up and make sex noises? Common sense, Rita, common sense. Where are you? I was gonna come by your house but Rik needed Yota."
"I won't be there."
"Then where are you? We'll go some place."
In New York, Rita frowned; hadn't anybody told him? It had been, after all, a few days since she left. "I'm in New York, Jared, with Kyros." He didn't swear, as she expected him to, nor did he demand any explanations.
Instead he asked, in a sort of quiet, defeated voice, "Is that who you thought of first?"
No, she wanted to tell him. No, I didn't think of Kyros or Bryan. But it wouldn't have helped, because she hadn't thought of him either. In that hazy blur after the news, she had only thought about getting away, and Kyros was the most convenient.
"Yes," she told him sadly. "Yes, I thought of him first."
"Oh…I'm not much of a phone person—"
"Jared, please don't…"
"—so I'll let you get back to Kyros. See ya later, Glisscielle." The decisive click and dial tone made no room for arguments.
He had said it in a friendly sort of tone. Rita felt strangely disappointed after she had hung up the phone. So she was Glisscielle again, and was no longer viewed as slightly above the others. It was better this way, she reasoned, in the small chance that he actually fell for her. Neither would get hurt.
Yeah, that was a noble reason. But it didn't exactly coincide with the truth. Because the truth was…
Jared was perfect. Cowlicks, coarse words, raggedy fashion style… Jared Luna was, quite possibly, the most perfect boy she had ever met. Overshadowed Kyros, shamed Bryan, and a million times better than Adrian. And that was why she had to lie. Because, if she didn't stop this now, she might have fallen in love. And stayed with him, in Anomina.
And nothing good happened in Anomina.
Then why did she feel the urge to cry? Was it because the loss of his companionship? Or was it the loss of everybody's companionship? Now wasn't the time to cry. Rita wiped away the brimming tears. It wasn't the time to cry, not when Mrs. Snow was calling her for dinner.
~*~*~*~
New York
Maria held the phone a full arm's length away from her ear, but Poppy still hurt.
"OH. MY. GOD!"
"It was really a small ceremony," she said loudly to the phone, still far away.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DIDN'T INVITE US!"
"We just did it so my baby wouldn't be a bastard."
"JAMES! Oh my god, James, they're married and they didn't even invite us. Well, I understand not inviting you, but what about me? I'm the freakin' life of the party ya know." Maria guessed she had put her on speaker phone.
"Your loss, Maria," James commented, naturally calmer than his soul mate, "we would have gotten you a blender. Those nice new ones that go on silent mode."
Maria sighed. "No point. Valdis threw out my own blender way before I was pregnant, because he found out I wasn't making just health shakes."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Maria Eldson. Did you hear who Iliana was dating?"
"You mean she dumped Mary Lynnette's class mate?"
"Will you girls quit gossiping? That can't be good for karma, or pregnancy," James warned.
"When you've got something growing in your uterus, I'll take your advice," Mari answered sweetly.
"Any way," Poppy continued, "you know that moody werewolf who was awarded a medal or something last month? Yup, that one. They met when he went to go exterminate her town's bad critters."
"Oh, ew. The one who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'smile.' What could they possibly see in each other?"
"Maybe Iliana's his own version of prozac. Remember, Maria, the ever elusive pill?"
"I'm starting to think you overdose." Maria heard the door slam and knew Valdis was back from some big wig auction. "I hafta go, Valdis thinks I'm napping." Valdis usually spent an inordinate amount of time spoiling their horse of a dog, so if she crawled under the living room table…
"Maria, why aren't you in bed? She should be in bed, shouldn't she Ceberus, yes she should…" Maria paused, one hand up so she looked like a pointing hunting dog. She frowned at his tone, and decided no man would ever talk to her baby as if he were an idiot.
Maria looked up, to see the Armani dressed Valdis smiling down at her. He didn't seem troubled by her repeated misbehavior. "I ran into Kyros on the way here, and he invited us to dinner with him and Rita."
"Ooh, where?"
"No place where he's taken you," he said, helping her off the floor. "So we decided on Tavern on the Green."
"Oh yay! I have to go shopping! I'm fat now, so nothing fits. I wonder what wouldn't clash with their garden motif…" Which wasn't true at all, Valdis observed silently as she ran in search of his piggy bank. She hadn't gained enough weight. Thierry's Mansion had all the medical equipment for inhuman problems. He was sure the Elder would allow them a visit, without Maria's knowing, of course.
Later that week, Rita found herself seated across the most virulent couple she had ever encountered. They had argued about who was at fault for their tardiness, her coarse language, his bullying, and then who deserved the most dinner rolls. There was no expression of pain on Valdis' face, but Rita believed Maria had kicked him twice already, and counting.
Although their embarrassing behavior drew some curious stares, Verity was thankful for it. At least there was something to fill in the silence. She and Kyros themselves had nothing to talk about. Neither attended school, she knew everything about his friends and family, and she had none.
"So how are things in Mayberry?" Maria asked ; she had won the most dinner rolls after they agreed Valdis would receive most of the fancy gloop that came with it. "Have we cracked down on that cow tipping net work?"
Rita would have objected to the stereotype of small towns, except that there were those preteens who insisted on bothering the bovine. "All's well. The school carnival should be commencing as we speak." Verity had called Ophelia for that information.
"Oh, that reminds me. There's going to be a block party next, next Friday. Will you be here to attend?" Three pairs of eyes turned to her expectantly at Maria's query. Rita smiled sadly, gazing at the flowery carpet.
"I really don't know…"
"Of course she can," Kyros answered for her as an arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her closer. It seemed to Verity that, at every mention of her departure, he resolved it in an embrace and a grin. Poor, poor Kyros, she thought as their meals arrived. Verity studied him forlornly. He couldn't even let go of the substitute.
"We visited Las Vegas about three months ago. Have you seen Thierry lately?" Valdis asked Kyros, whose fork paused mid air.
"Umm…nah. He said that if either me or Ash planted something 'inappropriate' in the gardens again, we'd get three months suspension from the mansion. But would he believe me when I said Ash did it? Of course not. I wasn't any where near Nilsson's daffodils."
Maria choked audibly and buried her smiling face in her napkin. Verity smiled slightly when the two males eyed her suspiciously, not one jot of concern in either. When she recovered and wiped away her tears, Maria beamed her wide eyes at them. "What? I wasn't any where near the East gardens." That being the side for the "cheerful" flowers, which, Maria reasoned, seemed the most appropriate place for them.
"What did you do when Nilsson asked you to help out in the West gardens?" Maria opened her mouth to protest, only to find no argument pouring out.
"Once you think about it, east and west could be really confusing…" Kyros frowned and shook his head disappointingly. "I wanted to see what cannabis really looked like," she explained weakly. Valdis' eyes, now a cool hunter green, narrowed. "Oh fine! I wanted to get Ash in trouble. I think Mary Lynnette and the sisters had an alibi for him. I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for those meddling kids!"
Kyros rolled his eyes. Valdis merely said, "You're calling tonight and explaining it all to Thierry."
"Can't," Maria replied cheerfully, stabbing at her chicken pilaf, "he's in an undisclosed location in the Amazon."
"Then Hannah," Valdis persisted, "I won't have you getting your friend in trouble. Kyros should be able to go to the Mansion as he pleases."
Verity stole a side glance at her date. He was absorbed by his meal, having lost interest in the conversation. She suspected it was because he didn't want to go to an institution that had fired him.
The mini trial ended when Maria's cell phone beeped the "Scooby Doo" theme song. With Valdis as a companion, she left to answer it in the waiting room. Thus, leaving the other two to resume the inevitable silence. Every once in a while, she'd mentioned the slight desire to return to Anomina.
"To take care of things," she explained gently. Kyros shook his head, unnecessarily involved with his napkin. "Kyros…you ran away to home. I ran away from home. I can't stay away forever."
He stared intently at his folded hands. After a moment or two, he sighed and looked at her, letting her feel the full force of his sad brown eyes. Then, in an earnestly pathetic voice, he explained how he would miss her. The guys would miss her too. She had been such a help around the house. She was the first girl Andrea hadn't tried to steal from. "And besides," he finished, cruelly miserable, "ma would take it as an insult if you didn't stay a little longer. Please?"
When Valdis and Maria returned, they found a satisfied fox shifter and miserable, distressed girl. Maria opened her mouth to broil Kyros on what he had done when Valdis shook his head. For once, she obeyed and opened the soothing subject of politics. Verity contributed little to the conversation. Every time Maria caught the desolate look in Rita's eyes, she was sure she'd burst at the seams to grill her ex boyfriend. It was only Valdis' steady grip on her knee that kept her from turning into bad cop.
Just before they entered their separate cabs, Maria impulsively gave Rita a tight hug. She had remembered what it had been like to be sixteen. To be so miserable. She said to the bewildered teenager, "Whatever it is…writing always helped me. That and running and…physically hurting people, but I don't recommending that last one. Bye and don't let Kyros bully you. He doesn't do it on purpose."
The taxi driver honked his horn. Maria glared at him and then flicked him off.
"Ass hole," she muttered, disgusted. "Can't he see I'm pregnant? Any way, call me if you need anything." With that, Maria left and climbed into the taxi with Valdis.
Writing, Verity contemplated as she sat in the downstairs den. The boys, apparently part time decorations for the Snow household, were scattered around her. Kyros was upstairs with his father, learning to play poker. She read, but definitely didn't write creatively. Scientific papers were easy. Literary analyses she breezed through. But stories, poems, songs…ew. For hippies and depressed people.
"Khepri?" The Egyptian looked away from his comic book and turned to her questioningly. "Can I borrow some paper?"
"No, but we could always steal some from Andrea. She took a doughnut from me last week. Right out of my hand. I shoulda licked it."
Although finding no humor in it, Rita smiled. She had come to realize than when his dark brown eyes became a funny sort of blackish gray, he believed he was making a joke. It was as if no one in the house hold was ever serious.
~*~*~*~
Anomina
Good God, where the hell was she?
True, she had been absent for the past few days. He had expected for her to attend her own carnival, though. Adrian wandered aimlessly as Animona citizens enjoyed the sights. High school students manned the booths, even wandered as clowns or magicians. It seemed everybody in the hamlet was in Ye Olde Town Square except for the one who planned it.
Even the Daybreakers were in on it. The fluffy witch played, coincidentally enough, a gypsy, telling fortunes in her trite dark tent. He didn't bother to explore her abilities, however. The idiot Night World people did join the line, not realizing the witch only participated in the fair to gather more information. He heard their whiny exclamations as one customer appeared to have an extra long reading.
They had gotten as much information as they needed about him. He learned that much as a mite on Rita's blouse. It was his favorite creature to transform into. People would believe he had disappeared when he was right there, sitting on their shoe. He also learned of Rita's family's death, from normal high school gossip. There was an estate sale on her house the next weekend. Something the Daybreakers were taking care of, not herself.
Which was strange, because she was proud. Her old friends would talk about it whenever her name was mentioned. The Glisscielle pride, spoken in reverence. As if it was a precious heirloom, rather than the bane Adrian recognized it to be. He knew that much, even if she claimed that he knew nothing about her. Sure, she apologized easily, but only to avoid arguments. But she had enough pride to refuse help concerning her family. Enough to hide the condition of her sister. Enough to lash out at anybody who dared to sympathize. And, unfortunately, enough to hate anybody who had seen the vulnerable side of her. Gitana.
That episode in the gym was…disturbing. He didn't know what happened, nor why, but he did know that he felt sorry for it. Adrian thought that, because they had at least moved onto sarcastic humor, there was progress. But now she hated him. He sighed tiredly as he wandered past the swaying paper lamps and amateur carnival booths. The woods were just a few kilometers from here. The sun looked ready to retire; he guessed it wasn't too early to start hunting.
Shoulders slumped resignedly, he made his way east, unaware of the vampire flanking him.
~*~*~*~
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe."
The Beatles, "Across the Universe"
Er…sorry, probably not that satisfying to those who want the plot…just informational. Not too boring, though…right?