Skylark: Since you asked so nicely, I'll give you more. And, goodness gracious, y'all stop asking me not to kill people! I'll just say that the people who have to die, will die. Gee I hope that wasn't a downer.

Nikki: I'm glad it's up to "usual." But I don't think this was soon enough for some people.

Lilith: I'm glad you liked it, of course I couldn't let Adrian stay asleep. And, as they say, the dungeon is always a good place to work out relationship problems…or maybe I just made that up!

Zabella: well, that was enthusiastic! I've never gotten a ye-haw before! So, here's more.

Amy: hee, hee, hee, you're so funny! Maria is pretty mean most of the time, but, as they've stated, she does have her random times of kindness. And, besides, valdis isn't any prince charming either. Why a shovel? Any who, thanks for the encouragement, oh and it is a bit weird and very impossible for you to be valdis!

Fin: Hiya. I always like to reach the rating of wicked good, so all is well. And, fin, you really oughta notice my story patterns by now…I can't promise not to kill any one, but I'll promise not to kill any one for no reason.

Vague Verity

Chapter 14

"Show me what it's for
Make me understand it

~*~*~*~

Verity sat on her cot, aghast. For a few seconds, she wasn't sure if he really asked that. That is until she heard the question repeated, with the same sort of irritating flippancy. Eyebrows furrowed, she drew determinedly closer to her soul mate.

"Contrary to ignorant belief, Jorge was a gentleman. Nothing happened."

"Rita," he complained, "we agreed to tell the truth."

"Yes we did. So to answer your question: It is natural, and completely justifiable, for a woman to hold a grudge against her ex husband, who so wrongly accuses her of infidelity when he himself had monthly randy-vous in England."

"So…" he began slowly, cautiously, "you didn't cheat on me?"

"Tana and I are two separate people—"

"You might as well let her be you and you be her," he snapped, deeply irritated, and embarrassed. "It's too exasperating to change pronouns for the same person."

"Fine," she retorted, equally annoyed. "Jorge and she—I mean, I only had two kisses. But wait, this isn't fair!" He didn't answer. "Adrian, I said this isn't fair." Again, nothing but silence accepted her words. "Adrian?"

"Hold on," he replied curtly. Sitting against the wall, he roughly banged his head against it, eyes squeezed tight although there was nothing to see. Rita jumped at the sudden thump, and wondered at the cause.

"Adrian?"

Adrian hated it when Tana would show up at the most inconvenient. Damn, irritating flashbacks. He wondered if Rita ever had to worry about those.

Not events really. Just vignettes of her, doing nothing but being herself. He clenched his jaw, turning away from a face that was not there. Her frowning in confusion. His hands fisted at his temples. Her questioning eyes. He had made so many implications, only to be met with innocent puzzlement. He had done so many things, based on that one belief. He smiled wryly when Verity asked him if he was all right. Was he hurt? Adrian wanted to call back that she shouldn't care.

"It's my turn," she said firmly not wanting to let him be the only one to land a barb. His question, and then his ensuing silence, had made her more than irked with the man. She had shown compassion for goodness' sake. And for her generous and very much misplaced concern, he offered rudeness in return. All Verity could think of was retaliation. "Just how stupid do you feel now that you know the truth?"

His only reply was a hoarse "Very." Then she heard him rise and dust himself off.

"Are you leaving?" she asked worriedly. Which was absurd, she later realized, for it wasn't as if he could leave her.

"Yes," he answered brusquely, and then said in a softer voice, "I don't feel well. We'll continue later, all right?"

"All right," she agreed uncertainly, feeling ridiculous for the sinking guilt in her stomach. He was the one who struck a sore spot first. She was only responding. There was no reason to be sorry. Verity shivered, and realized she had been sitting on the floor, in front of the hole, for some time. The hiatus of the game disappointed her, but at least she'd have time to sleep. And, most importantly, dream.

~*~*~*~

New York

It hurt so much to open her eyes. Not physically. Maria was frightened to the point of mental anguish to see what awaited on the other side of her eyelids. If it was a bright light at the end of a tunnel, she was determined to hightail the other direction.

But she knew she wasn't dead, or at least in Purgatory, when she heard familiar, irritating chatter. Male, inconsiderate, oozing with confidence…a Redfern. Warily, she opened her eyes half way. She was in her room, which was dark save for a night lamp plugged into the electrical socket in the corner.

Ash didn't skip a beat at the awakening of his listener. "…so you have to go and have a heart attack, as if two babies aren't enough? What, wanted to go out with a bang or somethin'?"

Summoning all her strength, which felt pitifully lacking, Maria croaked, "Hardly, since bangin' got me in this mess in the first place."

Ash smiled, and handed her a glass of clear liquid. Maria eyed it hopefully. "Water," he said, as if it was obvious. Maria frowned, and the boy continued. "You know, H two O. Agua. L'eau. Blank, blank every where, and not a drop to drink…"

"I'd appreciate something to raise the spirits," she cut in, and handed back the beverage. Ash frowned and looked around for options.

"We've got apple—"

"Martinis?"

"Juice," he finished flatly. "Coffee…"

"Irish?"

"No, and I don't think Valdis would approve. And in the kitchen, Sabrina bought orange juice."

"Irish orange juice?"

"Never heard of it…Wait here."

Maria watched disdainfully as he left the room. The entire apartment sounded peaceful. "Oh no," Maria protested bitingly, "I meant to jog to the mall and maybe drive up to Vermont while I'm bed ridden…oh."

Ash returned, tenderly holding a bundle of blankets. Mari watched, partly mesmerized, and partly worried that the stupid brute was holding her off spring, as he drew nearer. She struggled to sit up, which was surprisingly difficult. Everything ached, especially her chest, and there were many tubes to think of. She managed just as Ash lowered the precious thing into her arms. In the middle of the cloth lay a sleeping, pudgy baby. It slept peacefully, and Maria wondered at how small everything was. Such a small mouth, such a small nose, the finest eyelashes she had ever seen…

"Beautiful," Maria breathed.

"Nah," Ash yawned. "Nothing compared to the babies Mare'll pop out when we're married."

"Mary Lynnette's very pretty," Maria conceded, and then winked with mischief. "But, now Ash, we both know in our hearts, that our children would have been super models."

"Hell yeah I know," Ash said nonchalantly. "But would they survive your beatings?"

"Or the starvation caused by their father's constant slumber?" Bored by the conversation, she looked down again to the newborn.

"Lordy," she exclaimed immediately, and the baby awakened. "It's blonde!"

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Ash retorted defensively, vainly running his hand through his own hair. Maria studied the infant, wondering why it wasn't crying. From what she knew, babies always cried.

"But I'm not blonde, and Valdis isn't…"

"Oh, yeah he was," Ash corrected her, pushing her legs aside to sit on the bed. Maria thought her husband left her a very poor nurse. "I remember. He was yellow haired, like his mom, and then it changed to that fairy color it is now."

"I would hit you for that, but I'm so tired," she yawned, easing herself back with the baby. "This is a girl?"

"Nah, we just figured we'd bundle him in a pink blanket for fun," he replied, calmly caustic. "What will you name her?"

"I've always thought Ash was a nice name," she said aloud thoughtfully. Ash waited patiently for the punch line, but sat astounded into a short silence when Maria shook her head. "But, no, she's a girl."

"You have a boy," the vampire volunteered eagerly. For a split second, she smiled with faint hope, but laughed.

"I don't think Valdis would allow it. Oh well," Maria shrugged, and winced at the effort. "How old is she?"

"A few days. Valdis knew if he named them without you, you'd probably throw him through the wall or something."

"Don't be silly. That would ruin the wall. Where is everybody?"

"Sleeping. It's three a.m."

Her eyes widened. Ash Redfern up before the noon sun. Who woulda thunk? "Why are you up?"

"Baby and Maria duty."

"Oh."

"How are you feeling?" he finally asked, after a lengthy silence of watching the baby fall into slumber. Maria rolled her eyes.

"My left boob hurts," she said frankly. Ash laughed, guessing she meant her heart, and felt a sharp sting on his forehead. "You woke up the baby."

"She doesn't cry any way. I know," he said, seeing her eyebrows raise in surprise, "we all figured a product of yours would scream her head off."

"Where's the other one?" she queried, nervously relinquishing the girl to the capable arms of the Redfern. Maria noticed the slightest hesitation on Ash's part.

"Sleeping."

"Where?"

"Over there," he answered shortly, making a vague gesture towards the door.

"Can I see him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Ash appeared to be at a loss for a words, especially at Maria's fretting tone. "He's safe, Maria. Don't get worried or anything."

"How can I not get worried when you're keeping my baby away from me?" she responded bitingly.

"Shut up," he ordered imperiously. "Valdis says you're not supposed to get worked up."

"You shut up. I want my baby."

"Well, I can't give him to you!"

"Yes you can, you just won't!"

"Stop being so stubborn!" Maria crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out.

"Ahem." Maria and Ash were silenced by the stern voice of her soul mate. She had never seen him so serious, or so displeased. With one look, Ash grimaced apologetically and left the room. Normally, she would have been happy to see Valdis. But this time he didn't smile, or ask her how she was, or look at her fondly. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring at her with an impersonal gaze.

"Valdis?" She squirmed, and she felt as if she were under the scrutiny of a stranger, not her soul mate. He didn't say anything. He just smiled a smile that didn't reflect in his eyes. In the same, detached manner he arranged her pillows, and tucked her in tightly. Up close, Maria tried to make him see her. And for a split second, he did.

He wasn't impersonal, she realized when he turned away sharply. He was holding it in. There was the briefest flicker of sadness in his eyes that caused a lump in her throat. Maria didn't bother to say anything as he left the room, for the silence seemed to tell all. Ash entered a few minutes later, and stationed himself in the chair next to her.

"Ash?" she asked softly, surprising him. Maria's eyes were closed the last time he checked. "I'm not getting better, am I?"

"Oh, come on! Has television taught you anything? Touched by an Angel, Highway to Heaven, ER…people get better when everybody else thinks they won't get better. It's a proven fact."

"People die on ER," she pointed out gently.

He rubbed his chin, pondering it. "But the really pretty people don't. And I've heard some say you're quite a looker."

She smiled wanly. "Looker or hooker?"

"Sometimes both," he supplied playfully. "Why? Did Valdis say anything?"

Maria shook her head and she swallowed the ache in her throat. "Not a damn thing. Can't they take a vein out of my leg and do a bypass thingy?"

"It's risky," he told her seriously, chin resting on her bed rail. "Especially with a little thing like you. Shrimp."

"Ass."

"Hey, didn't I tell you the rules of insults? With a light name like 'shrimp,' you do not retaliate with the higher insult of 'ass.' There are rules, Maria!"

"Screw your rules. How is everybody?"

"Don't you think you should sleep?" She shook a negative, and Ash didn't bother to try and persuade her. "In all honesty, it's been like a morgue around here," he informed her in a whisper. His flashing eyes darted to the door, in fear of being caught. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but everybody thought you'd die. You slept for such a long time."

Maria's eyes widened briefly. "Did they do that buzz thing like they do in ER?"

Ash grinned. "Yeah. The electricity went out in the whole complex for a half in hour."

"Aw. I missed it."

"Well, duh. They were using it on you, and all."

"Has Mare and Sabrina been getting along?"

"Yeah, just like you and Keller." They laughed, quietly so nobody else would be bothered. Both wondered how they could be so lighthearted when one's diagnosis was so bleak.

"You can go look after the babies," she said quietly after some conversation. Valdis and his sad eyes had been invading her thoughts more and more as the morning progressed. "Just give me some paper and a pen before you go." After some persuasion and threatening scowls, Ash relented. She promised to feign sleep if somebody else checked in.

Well, she had known the truth. She had known way before any of them. There was no reason to be sad now, after preparing for it emotionally. But all Maria could do was stare at the blank note pad, tears welling in her eyes. Angrily, she brushed them away. She hoped by that, come dawn, nobody would make a fuss over her waking up.

~*~*~*~

Verity was resentful when he had awoken her. She had dreamt she was back in Moorea, without Bryan. The sun light bathed her generously, and the water was the perfect temperature. Then he had to go call her name, threatening to enter the cell if she didn't answer.

"What is it?" she asked quickly, obviously fearful of his entry.

"I'm resuming the game," he answered quickly, urgently. "What do you miss most?"

"What?" Flustered by sleep and his question, she wasn't swift to comprehend.

"What do you miss most, from the outside world, I mean."

"Oh, Adrian, I don't know," she said tiredly, settling back on her cot.

"There must be something," he persisted.

Verity lay for a while, scraping for a satisfactory answer. She very much wanted to go to sleep, and return to the island paradise. There was nobody in particular she wanted to see again. No certain food items she craved. No games or appliances she desired. Then the answer was so sparklingly simple that Verity smiled.

"Light," she finally answered with a wistful sigh.

"What?" he asked surprise, as if snapped from a stupor.

"Light," she repeated, tossing on her side, facing the wall. "I guess it's easy for you, a dragon, to see things. But you haven't noticed how dark it is in here, have you?"

"No, I haven't," he agreed, looking around. He saw everything perfectly, from the old hay on the floor to the magical words etched into the bricks.

"There isn't an atom of light," she told him. "Everywhere in the room looks the same to me; just utter blackness."

"Is that why you sleep?"

"That's two questions," she pointed out, and yawned.

"Fine then, ask yours," he ordered impatiently.

"I don't want to," she murmured and snuggled deeper under her blanket. "Later." Verity was ready debate heatedly if he refused. After all, he had been allowed to end the game at his leisure.

She heard him sigh and dust himself off again. "All right."

~*~*~*~

Word traveled surprisingly fast among Circle Daybreak. It was a little past noon when the first phone call came.

Maria and Valdis sat in her bedroom, quibbling over baby names, when Sabrina sailed in, cordless phone in hand. Cheerfully, she handed it to the waiting mother after chatting on it for several minutes.

"Who is it?" Maria asked as the witch left the room. Sabrina shrugged. "Hello?"

"Hello," the boy responded amiably.

"Who is this?"

"A Knight who says Nee."

Maria then muttered an obscenity that made Valdis's ears red, and ended the call. A few seconds later, it rang again. "Who is it?" she snapped when she answered.

"An African swallow."

"Do you have an African swallow, Del?"

"Nonsense," the prince replied. "Where would I put it?"

"I have a suggestion—" Maria said bitingly.

"Hi, this is Maggie," the girl laughed cheerfully. "Sorry about that, Delos was only supposed to dial."

"What do you want?" Normally, the two girls were somewhat friendly towards each other. Maria's rudeness surprised her.

"To talk."

"Well, I don't want to." Valdis, finally taking matters into his own hands, tore the phone away from his soul mate's ear.

Still silently boiling from their name debate, Maria sat, arms crossed, as her soul mate conversed with the girlfriend of one of her greatest enemies.

"Hello, this is Valdis…she's…fine, I guess." Valdis gave her a funny look then, and Maria looked away. "Don't worry about that, she's just grumpy. She just woke up and, somehow, we were discussing baby names…No, I don't think she'd tolerate a child named Delos…How's your summer?"

Maria tuned out the rest of the conversation and took the note pad from her husband's hands. The letters she had written earlier that morning were hidden, safely under her pillow. Now, she viciously crossed out all the suggestions Valdis wrote, most of which included his brothers, fathers, and cousins' names.

Her ears perked up when she heard him say, unsure, "Well, of course you're always welcome…" Her eyes flamed dangerously and she shook her head at her husband. "There isn't much room, though…" Maria mouthed an urgent "no" at him, hoping he'd comply. "There are two places on this story, though, that's available. I'm sure you could persuade the landlord to let you stay."

"What was that sound?" Maggie asked.

"Maria just threw the note pad at my head," he said, laughing. Maria glared, and slowly scooted closer to put her ear to the phone. Valdis leaned in, saving her the trouble.

"Oh? Does that mean she doesn't want us to visit?" Maria nodded, but Valdis's hand on her mouth prevented a verbal confirmation.

"Of course not. There was a bug on me…Tomorrow? Sure. I'll email the address."

"You idiot," Maria blazed as soon as he ended the call. "You expect me to relax with his royal highness around? Making asinine jokes? Being…himself? Maggie's fine, but Delos Redfern, good lord…" In her anger, she distractedly allowed Valdis to lower the bed to a completely horizontal position. She continued in her critique of the former wild power as he drew the curtains, cloaking the room in semi-darkness. When she ran out of abusive adjectives, Maria realized he meant to leave her.

"Wait," she called just as he was near closing the door. "What about the babies?"

"What about them?"

"I win," she stated simply. "The girl's name is Gwendolyn Hannah, and the boy Valdis Kyros. Got it?"

"I'll go with Gwen's name," he agreed as he turned off the light. "But there is no way in hell my son's name is going to be Kyros. We'll discuss this later."

Maria stared at the door unhappily, ready to be bored out of her mind. She never could sleep when Valdis told her to, and did so only between meals. Then she realized Valdis had made one mistake; he left the phone. There was, of course, no ordering of pizza or Chinese, for the heartless baby sitters would intercept that.

Quickly she dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi," she answered brightly. "Kyros, my best friend in the whole wide world…"

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I'd rather not lose a limb just to sneak you food."

"I'll give you a kiss…"

"No," he said firmly. Then, "How long a kiss?"

Then Maria laughed, knowing she couldn't kiss another man without crying from the guilt. "Scratch the kiss."

"Then no food."

"I'm campaigning to have my son named after you," she offered hopefully.

"Really?" He sounded truly surprised.

"Yeah, really. Ash's name was runner up."

"Wow…that's nice," he finally said, sincerely touched. "Didn't know you loved me that much…"

"Will you just come over and visit? Why haven't you been here lately?"

"I've been warned away. By your soul mate and my mom. They've got the crazy idea I wouldn't be helpful."

Maria laughed softly and twisted around to look at her windows. Although he had drawn the curtains, shady light infiltrated the room, and she estimated it was around noon. As insensible as it was, she felt the strong urge to visit Central Park again, or go shopping on Madison Avenue. She sighed. But that was impossible.

"What's the matter? I have a feeling you're not listening to me." Kyros obviously had no idea how many of his listeners tuned him out, for Maria detected a note of offense.

"Of course I am. And you're absolutely right," she lied placidly, picking at her blanket. Then she changed her voice, using a pathetic childish tone she had used with her aunt. "But do come over, Kyros. I'm positively miserable."

"Post birth trauma," he explained confidently. "My own ma cried for days after I was born."

"Tears of joy, I'm sure. But, please, Kyros, I need nice company."

He had never been called "nice company" and was greatly pleased. Maria sensed his ego had been properly inflated, and continued with, "I'm not allowed to play with the girl for long, and everybody's terribly busy. Javier snaps more than usual. Please, Kyros, I miss you."

"How much?"

"Heaps. Besides, the evil Draches are coming today, and I'd rather not face them alone."

"What about your husband?"

She stopped fiddling with the sheets, and stared at the shut door, as if Valdis standing right there. Her brow furrowed at the mention. Despite the resumed interaction, there was an incurable uneasiness between them. She didn't know what to do about it, and he was just as awkward. So, following her proclivity for denial, they pretended all was well.

"We're getting a divorce, and I'm eloping with you," she answered, giggling, after a pause.

"Aw, Maria, you oughtta tell a guy that at least a week in advance," he complained. "So, ya know, he could run away."

"Are you coming over or not?"

"I'm gonna. Besides, ma just made butt loads of apple tarts. I need to get 'em off my hands." Maria had to laugh at the words "butt loads," because she was surprised he hadn't outgrown the phrase, before she answered:

"But you used to like apple tarts." She regretted pointing it out when she heard his breath hitch. There was a silence during which she knew he took a drag of his cigarette, and composed himself to reply. Maria shook her head, and thought she had never met a man so obstinately grievous. Apple tarts was Nissa's favorite of all Mrs. Snow's dishes, and not Kyros'.

"I'll be over in five minutes."

Maria didn't know which five minutes he was referring to, for an hour passed before she heard a buzz, signaling the arrival of somebody on the stoop below. The girl was bitterly disappointed to see, not Kyros peep inside the door, but a child of almost three, with a golden halo of hair floating of his head. And he was grinning wickedly.

"Jesus please us," she muttered grumpily, leaning back on her pillow. "The Draches are here."

Keller appeared behind Apollo, the demon child, to take him away until she spied Maria faking sleep. As she did with Keller's former teammate, the girls glared at each other as Apollo trampled in. He babbled hurriedly in what would have been a heated silence. Keller only moved when the little boy threatened to pull an important looking cord out of the socket.

"I didn't invite you," Maria said airily, "Valdis did. So don't expect me to be nice."

"Never did, never will," Keller replied in the same tone.

"If you're going to be hostile," Maria said ironically, "you might as well leave."

Keller opened the curtains, and abundant sunlight came pouring in as Maria heard Galen and Valdis talking in the next room. "And miss our chance of seeing you?" Keller gave a falsely sweet smile. "Never."

Maria became unexpectedly irritated, or at least moreso than usual. "For Christ's sake, Keller. Don't tell me you're acting like everything's all right. Just go and say you came for my funeral and be done with it."

There was a shocked silence on Keller's part before she marched to Maria and pinched her arm hard.

"Ow!" she yelped, rubbing the skin. "What the hell did you do that for?"

Keller ushered Apollo out of the room and locked the door. Then she advanced on the injured girl, eyes flashing. "Listen. You may enjoy being blunt and shocking me, but it hurts the hell out of your husband." Maria's indignant expression became alarmed. "He doesn't like talking about it, and he especially doesn't like hearing about it. Galen almost got killed for asking if you were going to make it."

Maria didn't care so much for the last bit of information, for she was sure only Keller and the brat would miss that pansy. Also, she was secretly and childishly proud that her soul mate could beat up Keller's soul mate. Then she realized Keller was waiting impatiently for a response.


"Fine," she agreed, "I won't. I just didn't know…" Keller appeared pleased, and Maria couldn't bear the satisfied smirk on her lips. "But it's true you know. Nobody knows exactly what to do about me, other than rotting on this bed."

Keller shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Thierry's calling some favors. They might do a bypass."

"Right," she snorted in return. "Like I have enough good luck to survive that. If that scenario was so damn bright, why the hell is everybody coming to visit?"

"Misery likes company." Keller shrugged.

"I'm not miserable."

"No. We're pitying the man who has to live with you."

~*~*~*~

Funny how the walls weren't so unbearable. Strange how the darkness didn't pervade her soul any more. Bizarre how she actually anticipated Adrian's voice flowing from the wall.

But he didn't approach conversation today, or tonight, or somewhere in between. Rita waited on her cot, and then gradually made her way to the corner where they spoke and argued. He still didn't come. She heard muffled rustling, but no one appeared to fill the void. Verity found herself wringing her hands, worrying. Then a horrible thought entered her head:

What if they took him away?

Urgently, she scratched at the wall, unsure of her actions. An arm through the wall certainly wouldn't have helped him if there was a tussle, but she felt an odd duty to at least try. He was her soul mate for goodness' sake. Verity was sure soul mates had some sort of obligation towards each other, no matter how faint.

Then her palm scraped against something rough, but gave way. By the texture, she guessed it was the same straw that covered the cold floor. She was puzzled and was at the razor edge of hurt. She didn't want to learn that it was her soul mate who blocked the only thing to look forward to. Casting all doubts aside, she clawed at the makeshift plug, which was difficult because it had been packed in so tightly. Finally, she broke through and the last remnants fell away. Verity bowed forward and, as futile as it was, peered in.

She coughed. Something burning filled her lungs, and Rita reflexively pulled back. The coughs racked her body, and her eyes began to sting and tear. Still, she did not move away from the corner. Through the precious opening, she thought she saw a thousand glowing eyes, sometimes growing larger or narrowing at the sight of her.

"Adrian?" Panicked, she wondered if the cruel guards had tortured him in some way.

"Verity." The name was sighed with a mixture of relief and irritation. Then his voice became closer, and the smoke creeping in became blocked. "I put the straw here for a reason."

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked, with coughs spacing each word.

Amaro became hesitant. "Something stupid," he mumbled.

"Enlighten me."

"Yousaidyouwantedlight,soItriedtogiveyoulight," he said as quickly as possible.

"Pardon?" Verity was utterly confused.

He sighed resignedly. "I'm a dragon, Verity. I happen to breathe fire sometimes, if I work hard at it. And you wanted light…I just didn't take into account the ventilation conditions. Couldn't very well have you dying from smoke inhalation."

"Oh." It was a pitiful response, but the only sound she could produce at the moment. She hadn't expected…well, she couldn't have expected…it wasn't as if she asked him to…

"Thank you," she said softly, finally remembering her manners. "For trying, I mean."

"I was an idiot. Straw doesn't provide much light, which I forgot. Only heat."

"It was still a nice effort," she assured him, and then restrained herself. The man had exhibited a high opinion of himself plenty of times. There was no need to correct him when he showed some humility. In fact it was admirable. So she hardened her tone, and said, "But you really need to think things through. Smoke would have probably signal guards, and they would have come and smothered it."

A pause. A dreadful pause. A dreadful, long pause during which Verity rebuked herself thoroughly. Then he sighed again, Rita silently echoing his act. Thank goodness he hadn't left her.

"You're right. Just let me take care of this, and we'll restart the game." She didn't know how he could possibly take care of a roomful of smoke, but she agreed and backed away as he stuffed the wall. Verity bit her lip and stared at her inky cell during the interminable task of waiting. Finally, after she thought he must have passed out from the effort, she heard crackling from the corner.

"Who's turn is it?" he asked, surprisingly pleasant.

"Mine." She waited for the argument, because truthfully she didn't know whose turn it was. None came. Verity braced herself, for she knew her query hit a sore spot, and would cause a quiet uproar. But he did say to start at the beginning. "Adrian…Why were you so mean?" she braved shakily. Rita took his silence as confusion, and clarified, "Back then. With Tana. Even if couples don't love each other, they're at least civil. Why were you so mean? You always had to rain on her—my parade."

The figure of speech was unfamiliar to him, but he smiled anyway, mirthlessly. "Some people prefer the rain," he replied quietly.

"That's not an answer," she pursued doggedly.

"Yes, it is, in a way. You know how it is, Verity. I've seen you at school."

"I still don't follow."

"In the mornings," he continued insistently. "When somebody like Sammy T came bounding in, or Marjorie. Always so happy. And you'd roll your eyes, or that line between your eyebrows would crease."

"I don't see—"

"Whenever it creases, you're annoyed. You think, just like most of the world, that nobody should be so cheerful in the morning."

"But Tana wasn't just happy in the morning," she pointed out, puzzled. "And you were still so mean." Rita shook her head for lack of a better word.

"I know," he admitted, still subdued. "Because it was annoying. Because, when you're that miserable, you…I don't know. I'm not good at this."

"Try," she ordered darkly. She was fast becoming annoyed, and moreso knowing that the crease came between her eyebrows.

"Misery loves company, I guess," he mumbled helplessly. "Listen, I know we swore to the truth, but nobody ever said it'd be satisfactory. I had a lot of burdens back then—"

"I being one of them," she interjected harshly.

"To be truthful, yes," her soul mate snapped, "You were one of them. When you have that many problems, a cheery little child with her cheery little doll was more of a nuisance than help. I had to stop your bothering me, so I did what was necessary."

"Being a brute," Rita supplied, outraged.

"Being impersonal," Adrian corrected coldly. "I had nothing against you, Rita. It wasn't you. If you just behaved, I wouldn't have—"

"But you knew how I was," she protested hotly. Without any light, she knew her emerald eyes flashed. "You knew from the first time we met. I can barely hold my tongue now, I couldn't back then. You knew, and you didn't have to marry me. You didn't have to add on another burden."

"Verity—"

"And did you do any way? We were the gentry, for goodness' sake, Adrian. We didn't have anything to do. What was so blessedly important that you couldn't even explain things to me?"

"Looking for my family," he answered simply. She sat silenced for a few seconds, but asked before he could get a word in edgewise.

"What about the time you went to Nepthys? What about then?"

"I was trying to protect you! Nepthys had a habit of befriending ver—humans, trying to wage whether they were worth killing or not. And, more often than not, they were worth killing. I couldn't very well stake her with you tagging along." She sat in boiling confusion. "You being my wife made half the town either want to kill you, or made them pity you."

"If that's true, then you should have divorced me," she replied angrily.

"Soul mates belong together," he grated tensely, his teeth clenched. "Everybody knows that. It's how everything's ordained."

"Soul mates don't belong together. I haven't seen any soul mates who are happy in the same twenty feet."

"I have."

"Name them," she challenged, her voice taunting as his was taut.

"My parents!" he thundered, boiling anger doubling in fiery heat. "My parents were soul mates and they lived in bliss. Soul mates belong together. Soul mates should be married." Although the words were volatile, Rita thought he sounded as if he were reciting them as well. It was strange, for a split second, to think of his a normal boy who obeyed his parents.

"Who says?" she said defiantly.

"Are you daft?" His voice was still booming, still incensed. "My father, if you haven't figured it out. Soul mates stay together. Soul mates protect each other."

"Protect," she repeated evenly. "Protect," she scoffed.

"Yes," he assented, broiling emotions behind his words. "It's what I did, Verity."

"No," she contradicted, in a voice that held no room for arguments. "You smothered. Your father may have taught you all those rules, Adrian, but he forgot one thing. He never mentioned love. If there was that between you and Tana, we might not be where we are now."

"Father was never wrong," he answered, an edgy pause between each word. "Don't speak of him. Don't you dare." The threatening undertones were familiar to her. If not for the wall between them, she could have backed away in trepidation. But he continued, in the same terrible timbre, "Who are you to criticize my family?"

She pounced on it, accepting it as his question. "I can criticize your family, Adrian, because you ruined mine."

"You're spinning tales now," he dismissed carelessly.

"I am not!" she exploded. "You came to Anomina. You had business. You made Melissa the way she was."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Yes you do," she insisted. To her horror, she felt wetness falling from her eyes, sticking to her lashes. Rita felt strangely helpless against his deliberate blandness and denial. He knew the truth, he admitted it before. "You came, and you were a student. We met once."

"I would have remembered that, Rita," he argued, terribly reasonable.

"But we did, we did." A note of pleading slipped into her voice. "You patted my hand, as if I was a child, and asked me if anybody called me Ritz."

"I did what?"

The strength in her protest grew, and she felt he was finally remembering. "Asked if anybody called me Ritz as a nick name. You did back then, and then you did earlier this year in the gym…"

"I didn't," he stated stubbornly. "I admit being in the gym when you…had that episode. But, consider this Verity—"

"NO! No, no, no!" Why did he have to do this? Why did he frustrate her purposely, to the point where she wanted to tear out her hair? "Why do I have to consider what you say when you won't consider what I say?"

"Verity, calm down."

"I won't! I don't have to listen to you! You never listen to me, you never have—"

"Verity Catalina Glisscielle!" he growled menacingly. A feral sound came rumbled with the full name, causing its owner to hush momentarily. She was stunned actually, that he remembered it. "That's not possible. We never met until last year."

"But," she piped up meekly.

"But me no buts. We never met until this year. If I had met you all those years before, and I patted your hand…" The rest, the horrendously logical rest, he left unsaid.

She understood it, and it made perfect sense. He was right. Good God, he was right.

"Verity?"

"Wait," she murmured faintly. "I just…just…" Her normally quick mind was achingly slow with the realization. He was right. Verity Catalina Glisscielle and Adrian Amaro met for the first time last year. He had never met Melissa. He never drove home with her. But, in the gym—

She didn't know she said the last part aloud until she heard him say, much gentler than she would have expected, "That's right, I was there. I came inside, and you shot that boy. There was the vampire, and that idiot—"

Mechanically, she protested quietly, "Don't. He died for me." There was an awkward pause that Verity never noticed. It still hadn't fully sunk in.

"And Jared, and there was a boy in front of you. And you shot him."

"But that was you. I saw, we all saw…"

"No, it wasn't," he said firmly. And Adrian was right again. Because the boy hadn't had a small, rectangular book in his pocket.

Then, came the question, in an achingly tender voice: "Why did you shoot him?" Adrian was hurt. More than hurt. He knew she hated him, she knew she couldn't stand a single hair on his head. But he hadn't known that, at one point in her life, she wanted him dead.

It wasn't his turn. In her jumbled, starved, shocked mind, that was all she could think of. Later, she would laugh at her stupefied state, and wonder at her priorities. Her sister's killer wasn't the killer, and she thought of game turns. But, she answered delicately:

"Because he made my sister miserable. Me, too, really. And, I guess, because…Misery loves company."

It almost made her wish that he was responsible for all the terrible things in her life. Adrian was already there, after all. A solid, arrogant person, to see and rant at all she wanted. So much time, so much energy, so much hatred…wasted.

This, she suspected, was what Adrian felt when he learned the truth of Tana's "love affair." Violent words, furious tears, a torn heart…

Wasted.

And she didn't know what to feel now.

~*~*~*~


I've been crawling in the dark
Looking for the answer"

HOOBASTANK

Aarrgh! They're so stubborn! I try to make them get along, but…! Any who, whatchya think?