Monday morning came just like Beth feared it would: on time. Where were the apocalypses to avert Mondays, she wanted to know?

"You have to get up and go to school," Willow commanded, not sounding at all commanding.

"Actually, I have bodily autonomy. I don't have to do anything," Beth reminded her, her voice muffled by her pillow.

"That doesn't apply here and you know it," Willow replied. "School is fun!"

She turned over to give her aunt a dubious look. "Did you or did you not go to a school on a Hellmouth?"

She gave a nervous smile and shrugged.

"Jury's reached a verdict: you're lying." Face back in pillow.

Willow was having none of the teenage melodrama though. She marched over and yanked Beth's blanket off, sending it fluttering to the floor. "Now. Get up."

She sat up, scowling at her. "Since when did you become so assertive?"

"Since now," Willow answered, hands on hips. "Now, march yourself to the bathroom young lady. When did you last shower?"

"Are you now dictating my shower times?" she asked incredulously.

"Shower." Indeed, she was.

"Fine," she huffed, stomping towards the bathroom. "Don't think I won't remember this when I'm shopping for your Christmas present!"

"You'll be thanking me long before that!" was Willow's snarky reply.

She angrily went through her bathroom routine. She never thought one could shower angrily, but yet there she was, rinsing off viciously. She was upset at Willow for forcing her to go to school, her parents for giving birth to her (they just couldn't keep it in their pants, could they?), and herself for letting this all affect her. She used to hold her head so high when all the girls turned up their noses and sneered in her direction. She usually just flipped them off, marking her as one who does not "play well with others." But somehow, having friends had eradicated that strong barrier she had against the onslaught of mean words and harsh glares. Now, she didn't even have some wimpy leather armor to lessen the damage. She had tin foil, maybe. She hadn't felt so lonely in her life.

She dressed herself slowly, wondering if being late for school would at least make things easier. She wouldn't see Nadja or risk running into Zack. She could go through all her classes in denial and pretend someone was still there to eat lunch with her.

"Are you coming down?" Willow shouted up the stairs.

Beth wanted to shout back no, but unfortunately, she was pretty sure magic would become involved if she put up more of a fight. Why was it that her family always resorted to force when things didn't go their way? Willow spent way too much time around Buffy.

"I'm coming," she bit out, grumbling to herself as she stomped down into the kitchen.

"Pancakes?" Willow asked, holding out a plate.

"Maybe I'm not hungry," she decided.

"Eat." So bossy.

She snatched the plate out of her aunt's hand, sitting down at the breakfast table. She drowned her pancakes in syrup, hoping they suffered as much as she did. She was done crying, but she wasn't done being miserable about her lot in life. What was that saying? God doesn't give you more than you can handle? She wanted a word with this man and his definition of "handling."

"You're wasting syrup," Willow told her sternly.

"This is my pancake to syrup ratio," Beth informed her. "Don't question my methods."

Willow sighed, sitting down across from her. "Maybe if you told me what is going on, I could help. Be advice-girl."

She frowned at her pancakes, saturated in the blood of trees. "You can't," she stated.

"Help? Sure I can. I have lots of life experience."

"Not with my stuff," Beth reminded her.

"Oh." Willow fell quiet after that. "Well, sometimes it's good to talk about these things."

"How?" she inquired, stabbing at her breakfast. "Talking about it won't make me be like everyone else. It won't make people like me for what I am. It doesn't change people's opinions about me. If I talk about it, it doesn't make it go away."

"Not always," Willow agreed slowly, "but it's not just about fixing things. Some things can't be different. You are what you are, Bethie, and there's nothing wrong with that. But it can help you feel less like you're the only one carrying the burden. You're allowed to rely on other people to hold you up."

"Well, unfortunately it is my burden only," she grumbled. "I'm the fecking Prophecy Girl, right? Back the ole' 'Only Girl in the World' bit. And here I had thought you and Mum solved that problem." She sighed, her anger leaving her in that breath. "I just want to be normal," she admitted. "I don't want to be what I am."

Willow sighed sadly, looking forlornly at her niece. "I don't want you to be anything different," she finally told Beth. "I like you just the way you are."

Beth gave a weak smile at the attempt to comfort. "Okay, let's take me to school," she decided. "The sooner I start this, the sooner I can get it over with."

Willow frowned. "You can't leave school any earlier than normal."

"Fine. I'm a masochist. Let's go extend my torture. If I'm lucky, it'll skewer me sooner rather than later."

-.-

The school grounds hadn't even looked this intimidating on her first day of class. No, this was a whole new level of anxiety. This was the seventh circle of hell with chattering teen girls and plaid skirts.

"Have a good day at school," Willow said, though her tone revealed that she thought Beth would have anything but.

"I got this," she said. "I think." She got out of the car, reminding herself she'd done this before. She'd been the loser, lonely outcast; she could do it again. Taking a deep breath, she shook out her hair and strode toward the entrance of her school. She'd keep her head high like she had before, letting others' glares slide off of her. She'd do that until she could find a bathroom to hide in. Or maybe the basement. She hadn't seen Charlie in a while. She hoped he was well.

"Beth!" Fuck. It was Zack. She walked faster.

"Beth!" His voice was getting louder. Could she break out into a sprint? She'd lose him then. Would that gather too much attention?

"Beth!" Too late. He had somehow (probably with his stupidly long legs) caught up to her and now had his hand wrapped around her elbow. Yes, she could have technically pulled her arm out of her grasp and then made her great escape, but some part of her (that, sick, twisted, self-punishing part probably) wanted to know what he had to say to her. Besides, best to get it out of the way, wasn't it?

"What?" she snapped, spinning around to face him, jerking her arm out of his grasp with the ease of a slayer. "If you think you have anything new to add to the list of insults, put-downs, and otherwise cruel words, I'm afraid to tell you, but somebody already covered all the bases. There isn't anything you can say to me that I haven't already heard."

He looked taken aback by the sheer bite in her voice. He blinked once at her, his mouth opening but no words coming out. It seemed she had left him quite speechless. Good. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say to her. Nothing at all.

"Clearly I do if you think I came here to make you feel worse about yourself than you already do," he finally responded, regaining use of his vocal cords. "I mean, is that really what you automatically think? That I hate you? What exactly did you deal with at the Academy?"

"Point," she asked tersely, wanting to get the rejection over with so she could go cry somewhere. "Do you have one?"

"Right." He looked flustered and he cleared his throat. "I actually came here to apologize."

Well, her dad could have shown up dancing in a pink tutu throwing glitter while wearing a crown of kittens and she didn't think she could have been more shocked than she was now.

"For what?" she asked, still a bit suspicious. People didn't apologize. They ran and hid and screamed mean things at her.

"For, uh, as Nadja put it, being an ass," he replied, looking sheepish. Out of all possible world scenarios, she hadn't seen this one coming. Ever. What was the script for this one?

"And how would you put it?" she asked hesitantly, feeling whatever righteous anger she had had in her system go out of her in wisps. She didn't dare try and guess the next line.

"For my lack of an appropriate reaction after I saw you, uh, transform? Is that the word?"

"So," she began slowly, "you're still apologizing for being an ass." Pause. "Did Nadja yell at you?"

He laughed awkwardly, his hands going up to play with his hair and make it stick out in even more directions—if that were even possible. He glanced to their right and it was then that Beth noticed Nadja standing some ways off, arms crossed, hip cocked, with a nearly murderous look aimed at her cousin. "Oh yeah. The moment I got her into my car, you wouldn't believe the volume of her voice. And how creative she can be with alternative curse words. I don't know what a 'diddlestick' is, but I was called that numerous times."

She couldn't help the smile that crept out on her face, though she did try to bite it back.

"Anyway, she explained the whole thing to me, something about vampires reproducing and extra strength, and honestly, it was a lot of things that went over my head," he admitted sheepishly. "I probably could have paid better attention. All I know is that I didn't react well that night. I—I was angry. Not at you—well, maybe a little because you never told me and I had to find out that way—but that wasn't the root of my anger."

"Then what was?" she couldn't help but ask (she also skipped to the last page of books too).

"I was angry at myself for making you think you couldn't tell me," he told her, making her eyes widen. "And so, then I wasn't angry at you because it wasn't your fault. All I ever did was talk about how terrible vampires were and I reacted poorly when I found out about your dad and so I never gave you any reason to think I'd be okay with you."

"And are you okay with me?"

"Of course!" he insisted vehemently, the truth of his words reflected so brightly in his eyes she'd be have to be blind not to believe him. "I mean, it's you, Beth. How could I not be?"

But she knew better when it came down to it; she wasn't like everyone else, so she couldn't be liked like everyone else. Still feeling vulnerable, she wrapped her arms across her chest. "Simple. You hate vampires and anything to do with them. I hate to tell you, but half of me has to do with them."

"I know, but I know you. You're not like them. Don't think I suddenly think all vampires are cool, because they're not and would probably eat me in a moment's notice, but you're not like that. Things aren't all black and white, right? Your dad helps save the world for God's sake. And he used to murder people."

"Yeah, he always was the black sheep of the family," she joked.

"So we're cool?" he pleaded. "Because I really don't want Nadja to yell at me again for messing this up. She may be small, but I think that just compacts her anger."

"As long as you're doing this because you want to, not because Nadja is a scary short person," she informed him, looking back at Nadja, who was still glaring at him.

"I am. I swear. I mean, her yelling helped clear things up, but I'm doing this on my own free-will. All voluntary," he assured.

"You mean that?" It was almost cringe-worthy how hopeful her voice sounded.

He nodded vigorously. "I do, I really, really do."

She couldn't help herself; the weight she had been carrying all weekend fell from her shoulders and she fell into him with a hug. There was a brief touch-and-go moment when he froze and she was certain he reacted that way because the vampire freak touched him, but then she saw his hands do their little walkaround and she remembered that sometimes he was just awkward.

"Oh thank gods you're done," Nadja announced, she shoulders sagging in relief as she approached them. "That was getting too touchy-feely for my tastes." She pulled Beth from Zack, throwing him a warning look.

"But you like feelings," Beth reminded her as she stepped back. She glanced over at Zack, who wore a funny expression on his face, but still looked relieved all the same that she had accepted his apology. She herself felt greatly relieved, as all the tension slipped from her shoulders. Platonic abandonment? No fear here! Is this what it felt like to be truly accepted? Because damn this was better than pizza!

"Not between you two. Then it's just gross."

Zack rolled his eyes and Beth smiled at her friend.

"Now, there are no secrets between us and Zack has reached level three friend to unlock dark secrets," Nadja announced.

"But wait, Nadja also mentioned something about a prophecy. And what was all that about 'list of insults' and so on?" he inquired.

Beth patted him sympathetically on his shoulder. "Sorry, that's level four."

"Five's the best. That's when you can call each other out for their stupidity," Nadja informed him happily. "You gotta work for that level."

Beth watched as her two friends argued between one another with a small smile on her face. Maybe Willow had been onto something. While talking wouldn't make her someone she wasn't, sometimes all it took was the right person to make things better.

-.-

After school, Zack drove them to Beth's house.

"So, Mr. Wells is all frantic about falling behind on slayer and slayerette training," she told them. "Since I was out all weekend, he's afraid we're going to fall behind. He even made this little schedule." She held up the paper for Nadja's inspection.

"When exactly are you supposed to sleep during this?" Nadja asked, her eyes running down the list of weekly training hours, fight moves needed to be learned, and books to be read before Beth became an official slayer.

"I think at some point I'm supposed to build a device that pauses time so I can sleep then," she responded.

"Are we a part of this list?" Zack asked, sounding apprehensive.

"Do you want to learn how to properly handle a sword?" Nadja demanded. "If yes, you need to put forth practice."

"Hey, I took fencing lessons when I was ten—"

"For two months," she cut in.

"—and it's you that wants to learn how to use a sword. Don't project yourself onto me."

"Oh, like you don't want to look like a boss, swinging a sword," Nadja brushed off. "Everyone does."

"I find the flail to be the most fun medieval weapon," Beth told them.

"I do have other things to do, you know," he said. "I can't put all my time into this."

"What? You have to go hang out with all your nerd friends in your dumb robotics club?" Nadja snorted.

"Hey, I may be friends with nerds, but robotics isn't dumb," he told her. "And if I want to get into a good college, I have to upkeep my skills."

"He wants to go to MIT," she informed Beth. "It's some really prestigious tech school."

"Try the most prestigious tech school," he added. "One of the best schools for anyone who wants to do anything with technology."

"Or you could go to U-Dub like your mom wants and graduate there," Nadja offered. "Apparently, Bruce Lee went there."

"Did she tell you that?" he groaned.

"She may have mentioned some form of payment if I was able to convince you to stay close to home and I may have done some research," she said. "Face it, Zack, you're her little baby boy. She doesn't want to see you go. And something about empty nest syndrome. I might have researched that too."

"How are you going to help kick demon butt if you're going to MIT, wherever that is?" Beth asked.

"Massachusetts," Nadja answered.

"Where's that?"

"East coast."

"Yeah, I don't think you can help us from there," Beth told him.

"As much fun as you two will have fighting the forces of evil," he began, "I'm only helping until I leave for college. Demon fighting is not my forte or any career path I wish to have."

Nadja exchanged looks with Beth. "Well, you know what that means: you can't sit with us. Demon fighters only," Nadja said.

"It'll get to you, Zack," Beth informed him. "It's an adrenaline rush you can't replicate."

"That near-death experience," Nadja added.

"It's called swimming with sharks, so yes I can," he responded.

"Oh, come on, sharks are just dumb predators who think you look like an injured seal swimming. Completely safe. Demons on the other hand? You are the food source," Nadja argued.

"Please don't ever go in the ocean with that kind of attitude," he requested, pulling up to the curb in front of Beth's house. "Now get out of my car and stop thinking you can convince me. I am not a girl, therefore not eligible for slayerhood."

"I'm a girl and I'm not a slayer," Nadja reminded him. "I still want to be involved."

"You at least meet the prerequisites. Me? Not even the right gender."

"Come on," Beth sighed, opening the car door, "let's hope we can breeze through Mr. Wells' training schedule. My show's on tonight."

"Oh, you're still not watching that trashy reality TV show, are you?" Nadja asked, shutting the car door behind her.

"Hello, it's about inmates with dogs, Nadja. Dogs."

Beth walked up the path to her front door, Zack and Nadja trailing behind her. When she stepped into the house, she saw her dad off in the lounge, reading something from a book. When he heard the door open, he whipped a pair of glasses of his eyes and shut the book quickly, all but tossing it across the room. So poetry, she supposed.

"I'm home from school," Beth announced needlessly.

"Thought you'd take longer, seein' as you'd be ridi—" he stopped midsentence when Zack walked through the doorway, falling still under the man's relentless gaze, the very epitome of "If Looks Could Kill."

"What's he doin' here?" he grunted out, glaring at Zack, who stood like he was doing an impression of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. She wondered if his intention was to get run over as well.

She rolled her eyes at her dad's aggressive stance. "We've fixed our differences," she informed him with a resolute nod of her head. "It was actually a huge misunderstanding, actually. I assumed and well, you know what they say about that." She laughed awkwardly, noticing that her dad's expression had not softened towards Zack. "All is fine," she went on to assure. "We, you know, 'kissed and made up.'"

That got her father's attention. His head whipped in her direction, his expression incredulous. "What? You what?" he demanded.

She sighed loudly. "I meant metaphorically, Dad. One of those sayings? The only thing I'm kissing right now is my free time goodbye. Have you seen this schedule Mr. Wells made?" Her attempt at changing the conversation was futile, as Spike disliked Zack more than he disliked it when her mother interrupted his soaps to pay bills and do other adult things.

"We're going upstairs now," Beth informed him. "When Mr. Wells gets here, tell him we'll be in the library." Zack was probably the quickest one upstairs, eager to be out of range, with Nadja trailing the farthest behind, having actually enjoyed the little encounter.

"I like your dad more and more each time I see him," she chuckled.

"Could you not say things like that around your dad?" he asked when they were out of hearing range. "He's looking for the flimsiest excuse to kill me and you are only helping him find it sooner."

Beth winced. "Sorry. It's just a saying though! I didn't think he would get like that. I don't think I've ever seen him so red before."

He only shook his head, mumbling something about an early death and how she was helping him into the grave faster. Just a bit rude, in her opinion. After all, was she not giving him the means to help defend himself against numerous dangerous creatures of the night? Yeah, that's what she thought.

-.-

Beth at least went through with the pretenses that she was going to sleep. She actually wore pajamas (the flannel ones with the flying pigs on them), brushed her teeth, and pulled out a book on the various types of demons commonly found on the west coast of the North American continent. Sure, her parents thought it was a bit weird when they came in to tell her they were going out for the night and would not be back until late, but they didn't eye her any more suspiciously than a parent does when they see their teenage daughter purposefully doing what is technically extra credit (read: not on Mr. Wells' extensive and unnecessarily long reading list). It didn't matter that Beth's brain was essentially making up stories for each picture she saw (the more gruesome, the funnier she made them), so mom and dad left none the wiser.

All that was left was Willow. Luckily, once asleep, Willow slept like the literal dead. Sometimes, when Beth was much younger, she thought her aunt had actually died (similes went well over the heads of three-year-olds), so she was eventually taught about pulses so she wouldn't panic more than needed. Beth turned off her bedroom light and listened as her aunt moved about downstairs, doing whatever it was single witches did at night. Not going to bed, it seemed.

Finally, a quarter after ten, Beth heard a door shut and the house fell silent, save the wind blowing outside. She waited with more patience than she ever thought she had, until it was almost eleven before she got up to move. She quickly changed clothes, opting for something warm. The November nights were cold and ruthless. Her great invincibility to cold was only when she was in her vampire state and tonight was probably not the best night to do that.

She sat around anxiously waiting, thinking about how she probably should have actually slept, since she wasn't going to get home until the early hours of the morning and would then have to get up for school tomorrow. Well, bad decisions were made. Besides, after Zack kept telling her it got rescheduled (four times), she was too keyed up to actually close her eyes.

She finally heard was sounded like the thrum of a motorcycle behind her house. She frowned slightly. Zack had assured he was coming to get her around eleven and she thought maybe he was late, but then the engine cut, a couple minutes passed and then there was the knock of a rock on her window. She looked out to see Zack grinning up at her from her backyard.

She opened up her window, climbing down her roof before jumping down to the ground beside him.

"Hey," Zack said a little breathlessly, looking as excited as she was. "You ready?"

"I don't need anything right?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, it's not like we're doing some great big magic act or anything," he explained. "All you need is your attention span."

She nodded her head vigorously. "Of course. I will do my utmost best to stay focused and not get distracted by like a squirrel or something."

"Uh, is your dad around?" he asked, peeking over Beth's shoulder at her house.

"Nope," she told him. "Him and my mum went out patrolling. It's just my aunt inside. If she knew what I was doing, she'd probably become an accomplice."

"Why'd you sneak out then?" he asked.

"Because even after all these years, she's a terrible liar."

He grinned. "Well, m'lady, your chariot awaits."

Beth wrinkled her nose. "Augh, who are you supposed to be?"

He held out his arm. "A gentleman."

She snorted, striding over to her back fence without as much as a backward glance at Zack. "Like I need one of those."

He rolled his eyes, following after her. She got over the fence quicker than him and there was a bit of grumbling on his part, but she just smiled at his lack of skill.

"What's this?" she asked, when she noticed the distinct lack of Zack's car and instead a motorcycle parked across the road. So that had been him.

"My cousin's. I thought it fit the mood, you sneaking out and all," he explained.

"It's pretty loud. If my dad had been home, you'd be six feet under," she said.

He ruffled his hair. "Yeah, I realized looks does not equate to practicality."

"And it's cold outside," she added. "We have to ride this with freezing winds?"

"Yes, I get it, I didn't think this through. Can you at least say something nice?"

She thought for a moment. "I guess it would be kind of cool to sneak away on a motorbike. Very risqué."

"Thank you," he said, exasperated. "Next time, I'll bring my nice, warm, quiet car."

She grinned, grabbing a helmet off the bike. "This mine?"

He nodded in the affirmative. "Safety first, ma'am."

She quickly secured the helmet, hopping on the bike after Zack. "Do you have a permit for this?"

He laughed. "Oh no. I'm sure my mother would skin my before she let me get a motorcycle license."

"What happened to safety first?"

"Shush." He started the engine, kicking up the side brake before taking off down the road. Up close the bike was even louder. Yeah, Zack was really lucky Spike went out patrolling.

Beth's excitement grew tenfold as Zack sped down the road. He had long ago promised to take her to one of the many magical gatherings his family had. Unfortunately for all involved, it meant waiting until they had a place to throw it, sans parents and all. Finally, someone's had gone out of town and the party could begin. While it was meant to be a gathering for the younger, magically-inclined Kalders, she wouldn't be the only outsider present. She was excited too; she used to sit in on her aunt's rituals with the coven, just immersed in the magical forces around her. It was because of that that her father believed she was so set on learning magic. So far, her practices with her aunt had hit the same brick wall: Beth just couldn't wield magic well. This, it seemed, would be as close as she would ever get.

The roads Zack took were unfamiliar to Beth. She figured since it was technically a party, it wasn't being hosted around his family. She didn't think his parents, or grandfather for that matter, would appreciate the reckless display of magic. She wanted to ask, but with the wind whipping past and the roar of the engine, talking didn't seem like a reasonable thing to do. Now yelling, maybe, but definitely not talking.

Zaxck pulled up to an unknown house a short while later, parking the bike alongside his car. There were in fact multiple cars parked along the drive, and she realized she could hear the sound of chatter. The last time she had been to party hadn't gone so well and she was beginning to feel nervous, but then he smiled at her and she realized it would be okay this time. Even if Zack didn't know everybody here, he knew somebody who knew them.

"You okay?" he asked, taking her hand and squeezing it in comfort.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's just—well, you know. The last I was at a party, it didn't end well."

"Don't worry, this one's a lot smaller," he assured. "And I have taken the time to become a lot better versed in what demons look like."

And it was. Gathered around a lit firepit in the backyard, was a gaggle of kids her age. There was no mosh pit of bodies, instead small groups of people able to talk amongst one another without needing to shout.

"It's my cousin's house," he explained. "His other family's cousin had a baby and his parents finally went out of town."

She did notice many kids were carrying around what looked those infamous red solo cups—probably the sole reason they waited until the parents were out of town.

"You want one?" he asked, noticing her gaze.

She blinked. "Oh, uh, I dunno," she finally said. She hadn't had one at the Halloween party, and she was still very certain her dad would have a second sense about her drinking. How dead would he kill her exactly if she did?

"You don't have to," he told her, an amused look on his face. "I didn't take you for one to cave to peer pressure."

"Are you?" she asked and he shook his head.

"I've got to get you home, don't I?" he asked, head tilted. "While you might survive a crash, I don't think I would."

"You know, if we were in Scotland, you'd be able to drink legally," she explained.

"Well, last time I checked, we weren't."

She followed Zack around as he greeted people, introducing her. She recognized Damion, who blanched when he saw her. She shot him a wicked smile, not sure if he had heard about her newly acquired slayer powers. He turned tail quickly enough.

"It's pretty boring in the beginning," Zack told her once they sat down. "We mainly stand around chanting."

"I've seen spiritual rituals," she assured him, "I know how boring they get. It's all with the hand-holding and closed eyes. It's the energy that's important."

He chuckled before ducking his head in a nervous fashion. "Well, at the end, there's some showing off that goes around. Uh, I mean, you know my family mostly keeps the magic to the men."

"I know," she said, making a face.

"So most of the guys here might bring a friend around, but mostly it's girls," he continued, his voice taking on a strained quality. "You know, girls they're interested in."

Looking around at the people, she had to agree with that assessment. While she didn't know all of Zack's relatives by name, she did recognize some faces, and otherwise familial traits, all from boys. And the gender split did seem relatively half-and-half.

"So it's all showing off," she concluded and he nodded. "Well, I'm still happy you invited me. I know it might be weird, but I really do like to see magic."

"Hey Zack," someone, another boy, greeted as he approached. He was walking a little funny, and with the cup in his hand, she had a pretty good idea why. Judging by his looks, she thought he was another one of his cousins, even though she didn't remember meeting him last year. "Is this your friend I've heard so much about? The Slayer Girl? She's not gonna beat me up if I say something mean about you, is she?"

She shot a quizzical look at Zack. "Are you bragging about me for street cred?"

"No," he stated tersely, glaring at his unnamed relative. "Trey, this is Beth. Beth, this is my cousin Trey. His parents are the ones who own the house."

"Oh, well, thank you for letting me come," she told him. "And I promise not to beat you up."

"Zack," he gasped, "You haven't gotten this—this odjus chai a drink?"

"Okay," Zack sighed, clapping his hands on his thighs and standing up. "You're drunk. You need to go." He began to push Trey away, who despite his current state, was putting up a fair fight.

"Wait, you can't do this," he complained. "As one of the of the cohort, I had a right to meet your monisha! Remember what beebee Ethel says, 'Shuk tski khalpe la royasa.' Te xav ka to biav!"

Zack was finally able to successfully push his older cousin away, coming back to Beth with an annoyed expression on his face.

"What was all that he was saying?" she asked.

He shook his head. "He was speaking Romany. Don't bother trying to translate it later, he's out of it."

She chuckled. "I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

He groaned, dropping his head in his hands. She reached up to pat him on the back in a comforting manner. "Sometimes I wish they would just shut up."

"I can make them do that," she promised him, sure that he was talking about his cousins (she found them annoying too). "I know I said I wouldn't hit him, but I could."

"Don't provoke them," he asked. "They'll only get worse."

"I can break his jaw, you know. I'll do it," she continued on persistently.

He lifted his head and looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know what? Go ahead. Hit him hard."

Before she could even think up a couple of starter scare tactics, someone called out across the yard and several of the boys began to gather around the fire. She gave Zack a solid push—but not too solid—and he joined the rest of his cousins around the fire. Trey was there too, and he gave Beth a little wave. But before he could do or say anything else, someone else smacked him upside the head.

"Pay attention," the other one hissed. "You need to be fully focused, not making dumb faces at pleasant girls."

"Thanks," Zack mumbled.

The one that had smacked Trey, he looked more mature and his gaze swept over the younger boys around him. "Glad you could make it," he said, looking each and every in the eyes.

The boys made a loose circle around the bonfire, standing back far enough to feel the heat without singeing all the hair on their faces. Too far apart, they only held out their hands towards one another, arms slightly raised. From an outsider's perspective, this probably looked a little demonic. Of course, maybe it was to some. They were after all calling upon great powers beyond their own forces.

"Na bister 500,000," he intoned and the rest repeated it. Okay, maybe she'd look that one up (because if they were summoning Lucifer, she thought that maybe she should know that).

"I invoke thee, Hecate," came his commanding voice, silencing their surroundings. This was unlike Willow's coven, who wore robes and sat around a small fire pit, occasionally casting things into the fire and holding hands. One of the boys did eventually throw something into the fire—possibly a bundle of herbs, Beth couldn't be sure from her position—and the affect was immediate. Everyone's once rigid stances became more relaxed, some even swaying on their feet. Beth could feel the pulse of magic around her and she grinned to herself. This is what she lived for. Sure, some of them were swaying on their feet like drunks and this honestly was a completely boring activity, but her heartbeat picked up in the presence of such a force it might as well have knocked her off her feet. It was times like this she didn't understand her father's aversion to magic. Maybe it was all due to a century of living with a dark practioner who sang silly songs and spoke lunacy that turned him off it. Because in moments like this, magic was beautiful.

The drunken swaying went on for another few minutes, Beth getting all but high of the magic fumes. Currently, they were experiencing something akin to a spiritual journey, as Zack had so dumbly put it. Of course, it was hard to explain the connection one got when meditating with other magic practioners. It was all soul-consuming and euphoric, or, that's how her aunt Willow explained it. Willow maybe wasn't the best source of information when it came to how magic felt, considering her less than stellar track rate. Sometimes the look in her eye was a little scary.

Finally, the trance cut and then there was whooping, like real, proper "Boys Gone Wild" whooping. Beth grinned at the sight, as some of them started grabbing unlit pieces of wood, muttering them into combustion, and then throwing them into the fire. It was stupid, but it was fun.

"I told you, idiocy," Zack said when he rejoined her. He looked more alive, like he was lit from the inside.

"You don't want to join?" she asked, smiling at him. "They look like they're having fun." Trey in particular seemed to be having the time of his life, muttering incantations and making rocks spin.

"I hope it wasn't too boring," he said.

She shook her head. "No, it was cool. I'm sure it's cooler for someone involved, but I liked it nonetheless. I like the feeling. The air, it's different."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. It's cool that you understand it. None of my other friends grasp magic. They're all about logic and science."

"Like you aren't?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I am. I accept both as parts of the universe though," Zack explained. "A sort of duality. Besides, what's the fun if everything makes sense?"

"What about your family?" Beth asked. "Can't you share it with them?"

"My dad rejected magic and my cousins, if you haven't noticed, are all idiots."

A large gust of wind blew, blowing leaves up into the air and throwing Beth's hair into disarray. Trey cackled. She spat her hair out, glaring at him.

He laughed. "Sorry. I just thought Zackariah was a bit too distracted. And he could use all the extra practice."

"In my free time, I'm actually practicing, not stealing alcohol out of my dad's liquor cabinet," Zack snapped. A loud chorus of oohs and cackling followed; the zinger had landed with the inebriated audience.

"What do you practice?" Beth asked, pulling his attention back to her. It was nice to share this with him, and she didn't need his stupid cousins taking his attention away from her.

He shrugged. "A lot of levitation. Telekinesis type things. As you can see, Trey tends to stick toward the elements. My cousin Ezekiel's been working on portals, though God only knows he'll never get it."

She frowned. "Those aren't exactly the safest things, you know. Who knows what you'll get out of it?"

"He's convinced he'll find an alternate universe where he's some multi-billionaire so he can kill his double and assume his life," he explained. Seeing Beth's blank look, he added, "He's not the most reasonable of the group.

"Jasper now—he's the one that led the chant—he's trying to find some way to detect irregularities in the brain, like tumors and things. He's studying to be a neurologist at U-Dub. He's the practical one of us all, and somehow Trey's older brother."

"Hard to tell they're that closely related," Beth said with a grin. "And what about you? What do you want to do?"

He shrugged again, looking down at his shoes. "I don't know yet. I've only been coming to the family gatherings since last June. My grandfather's supposed to help us hone in our abilities and give us better focus. Currently, my magic's as shoddy as it's always been."

"Well, my aunt taught herself magic," she told him. "Of course, she then went on to almost destroy the world, but I think that's pretty uncommon."

"Good to know. Good to know. Do you have any family members that haven't killed people?"

She thought about it for a moment. "My mum kills demons for a living. I feel like that's bonus points. And I've never killed anyone. Not yet, at least."

"And let's continue with that record, okay?" Zack asked.

"I mean, but your cousins are so annoying," Beth whined, pointing at the group of boys. "Can it not count if he deserved it?"

He patted her on her shoulder. "Let's just have a no-kill rule, okay?"

She pouted. "Fine, but only if you show me some of your skills."

He laughed. "What, bribing me now are we? In what way is that equal to you not killing my cousins?"

"It's not," she pouted, "but I've only ever heard you talk about what you can do. I want to see it."

He sighed, but she could tell he wasn't nearly as put out as he acted. "Okay, fine, give me something to levitate."

"Yes!" she cheered, searching around for something. She eventually pulled a ring off of her finger, placing it in his palm.

He held it out in front of them, before he took a deep breath and began to utter something in what she guessed was Latin. In a moment, her ring was floating above his hand and she squealed.

"Like that?" he asked, chuckling.

"Oh yes!" she answered. "Dad won't let Willow do anything remotely like that in the house. At most we've been able to do some meditation. Which doesn't even work for me."

He laughed again at her pout, grabbing her ring out of the air. "You've already got so much going on in your head, you really want more?"

"I know," she sighed. "That's what my aunt says. What with the slaying and you know, the other thing, she thinks it's too much for any latent magical abilities to show. Plus, we're not related by blood so it's not like I could have inherited it like you."

"Who needs magic when you're already probably the coolest person I know?" he asked, handing her back her ring. She took it back, the metal warm from having been clutched in his palm.

"The coolest?" she repeated, cheesy smile on her face.

He returned it. "The coolest," he confirmed.