Nine

Mush sat beside Mondie's bed, her cat hair band clutched idly in his fingers. The elderly nurse was babbling on behind him, and he was ready to rip his ears off just to stop the flow of words. Did she ever shut up?

"Horrible things, these dances." She was saying snippily, sorting through a stack of papers. Her grey curls were still, even as she moved her head. As though they were made of china. "Students getting all out of sorts…causing trouble…"

"Shaddup." Mush muttered under his breath.

Whatever had been in the room with him, it hadn't been students, that was for sure. He couldn't explain it. They had knocked Mondie out, then had congregated around him, all smiling eerily. And then they had gone. Exploded into ashes! It made no sense. And Shade had done it. She seemed to know what she was doing, as though she had dealt with these types of…of things before.

Gemini and Blink were beside him, staring at Mondie, each thinking their own thoughts. The blood had been cleaned from the girls temple, but a bruise had formed, pushing against the skin. It scared Gemini. She and Blink had checked the room afterwards, but there was no one there. Just dust all over the floor, almost like a sand box. The girl in the next room claimed that the largest group she had there were only four.

Where did they go?

Shade and Jack had departed long before, claiming they had to finish off some kind of "business". Mush couldn't see what was more important than finding out if Mondie was okay or not, but each to his own, he supposed.

He sighed and put the hair band on the pillow next to her head. He had some waiting to do.

+

"There's so many of 'em." Jack muttered under his breath, as the two of them climbed the stairs to the second floor. Shade gave him a look.

"Obviously, Jack." She drawled. "Kids runnin' around, unsupervised, dressed up with blood all over them, conveniently nancin' around in empty rooms. It's a field day for them." She glanced into a room that they passed, but could only see two girls who were obviously off duty chatting idly. She pulled her stake out of her belt. "Are they all Spot's men?"

"No. There are lots of clans." Jack replied, pushing open the door where they had found Gemini and Blink. It, too, was empty. Shade shrugged, and strode across the room, reaching for the door handle of the next one.

"Wait!" Jack snapped, grabbing onto her shoulder. "Shade! We don't know how many of them are in there!"

"Well, I don't know how many are in there, but I will when I go in." She smirked, and added in mock terror; "And if you don't go in after me, I might just die!" With that, she turned, pulled the door open, and strode into the darkness.

"Damn it!" He cursed, then ran after her.

"Calm down, there ain't nothing in here." She replied, over her shoulder. He sighed and grabbed at her arm.

"That was real stupid of you." He said, shoving her slightly, his fingers still clenched around the flesh.

"I'm real stupid." She replied, sliding the stake back into her belt. She glanced down at his hand on her arm, then up at his eyes. He made the mistake of staring back. Then his fingers trailed down to her wrist, then onto her own. They joined hands.

"Comon." He murmured. "Only one room left."

"Then let's go!" She said impatiently, turning and walking towards the door. He pulled her back, then opened it.

Nothing.

Shade stared around the room, disappointed. She hadn't been lying to Jack when she had told him that slaying got her just a little worked up. But she couldn't ask for too much. She was lucky she got to slay at all.

"You wanna go back to your dorm or something?" He asked suddenly.

+

"Guys! This here's Faith."

Misprint clenched his fingers between her own and stared around the room in terror. Vampires were perched in various places around the chamber, all turning their cold gazes to her.

She had no idea where this lair was. Spot had blinded her as he led her through the streets. All she knew is that she was far away from the boarding school, far away from Bumlets, Jack, Chaos and Dutchy. Just when she really needed them too.

The room was spacious, and gave off the feeling that it had been lived in and used for a very long time indeed. A girl with straight brown hair and a nobly shaped face was sitting on the lap of a dirty blonde boy. His hand was on her hip, and he was staring at Misprint in a way that made her feel calculated.

"Gonna introduce me?" Misprint asked bitterly. Spot glanced at her condescendingly, before turning and sweeping the lair with his eyes.

"Where's Harlem and Flo?" He demanded.

"Hunting." A beautiful redhead in dark leather pants said in a bored voice, playing idly with a stake. "I picked off twelve today." She added.

"An' I got five." The brunette said as the blonde boy tried to get her attention by pressing his lips against her throat. Misprint stared. There were faint bite marks in the skin. She resisted the urge to touch her own.

"Great, great…" Spot said dismissively. "But I ain't got time to hear the news. Misprint and I are going to be upstairs." He smirked. "No one's to disturb us. Understood?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." A girl rolled her eyes. Misprint stared in anxiety at the long scar down the side of her face.

She looked at the redhead carefully. The girl looked sullen and aloof, but her eyes were determined when they landed on the stake. She picked off twelve today? She was a slayer? No, she had to be talking about humans. But what was with the stake?

Spot swept her towards the stair case, and gave her a small push, to send her up. She paused only a moment, before stepping onto the first stair. Spot turned and gave the blonde a look. He rolled his eyes, shifted the girl slightly as he dug into his pocket, then pulled out a switch blade and tossed it to Spot, who smirked in thanks, and turned to guide Misprint up the stairs.

The edges of the steps were determined by the candles radiating soft light up and down the stairwell. She bit her lip, and felt his fingers on her waist. Her stomach flopped horribly. She didn't want to die. She may have been orphaned and hurt and had her hopes crushed thousands of times, but she didn't want to end it all. Life had that horrible way of holding a tantalising hope in front of you that was just out of reach, and Misprint still believed she could reach it. She sighed and tried to break the silence.

"What was that girl talkin' about?" She asked. "About the twelve she had…"

"Ah…" he smirked. "Can't tell you that. We don't want you running off and telling your li'l slayer friends." Misprint said nothing.

The hallway was dark, the candles long since burned down. He pulled her off into a room, which was bare, except for a bed and a dresser. There were candles balanced on almost every possible flat surface, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Misprint watched him close the door behind the both of them, then turn to her, a smirk on his face, his eyes glimmering in the soft shadows.

He pushed his fingers into her hair, while his other hand strayed to her waist. She bit her lip harder, feeling her teeth dig into the flesh. He slowly pushed her backwards, until the back of her shins hit the bed. She toppled backwards onto it, pushing herself up before her head could hit the mattress. He straddled her lap and pushed his lips onto hers.

"Spot…" She tried to say through the fire of the kiss.

"Yeah Mis?" he whispered, his fingers running gently up and down her throat.

"Please don't make me." He paused for a moment, and his icy grey-blue eyes met her violent cerulean ones, and he caught the flash of fear in them. It was intoxicating. He felt his fingers slide down the middle of her body and dig at the tight elastic of the capris against her skin.

"Don't worry Mis. It won't be anything like the last time. I promise." He murmured. He leaned over her, making her fall backwards onto the mattress. "No pain."

"Promise?"

"Promise. I wouldn't hurt you." He whispered, his tongue drawing her lips open.

She fought down a scream as he tugged at the waistband of her pants. But the threat about Shade lingered in her mind as his lips hungrily caught at hers. She didn't want any of her friends to get hurt. It wasn't their problem.

His lips left hers and he dove towards her neck, trailing his tongue along the scars. She groaned and grabbed his hair.

"Don't…" She pleaded, feeling her eyes water. She blinked, but the tears gathered harder. She was on the verge of breaking down on his shoulder, but couldn't. She couldn't expose a weakness! "You said…"

"I lied." He smirked. She heard the click of a switch blade. Her eyes widened.

A thin line of pain drew itself across her abdomen.

She screamed.

+

"What the fuck…" Mondie muttered. Mush shot up immediately.

"I wasn't asleep…" He stammered desperately, his words dampened by slumber. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the sick room. The nurse was long gone, and the sterility of the room was getting to him. But Mondie had spoken.

"Mondie?" He asked, leaning forwards and brushing her hair back from her face. She cringed.

"Don't!" She said, in a voice just under a yell. Her eyes snapped open, and he could see her pupils expand, the light rays too small to harm her. She blinked, and stared up at Mush. Recognition flashed over her face. "Oh. Hi."

"You're okay!"

"I should hope so." She said, trying to sit up. Mush hastily pressed two hands onto her shoulders and pushed her back down. "Mush…" She whined.

"Mondie, you almost had a concussion!" He told her. She stared at him in disbelief, then poked at her temple.

"OW!"

"Shh…" He brushed back her hair again and trailed a finger down the soft line of her cheek bone. The makeup had long since been washed off by the nurse, with a disapproving cluck. Mush smirked softly. It had been kind of cute. Mondie the Cat.

"What happened to your ears?" She asked suddenly. He furrowed his brows, then quickly brushed a hand over his ears, then realised she meant the dog ones.

"Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "I took them off. They were gettin' itchy."

"Mmm hmm." She said sleepily.

"You feel okay?"

"No." She said grumpily.

"Oh…" He trailed off. Then he realised, with embarrassment, his hand was still sketching the curves of her face. He summoned his courage, then slowly trailed it along the lines of her lips. She stared up at him, unblinking. He pulled his hand away, self-conscious. Mondie saw the small flush that crept up his neck. She laughed, grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him down to her level, and kissed him.

+

Stephen shot up suddenly, his sheets soaked with sweat. She had gone to the dance. And had left with him.

"Damn it." He cursed, closing his eyes and focusing on her. He could almost feel what she did. The cut across her abdomen, the angry scars on her arms and thighs. And the wound on her neck…torn open again…Misprint…

He crossed the room in irate strides and flicked the light on. His room mate was out at the dance, so it wasn't like he was going to disturb anyone. He was sore all over, just like she, no doubt, was too.

He couldn't believe he had come back to New York. It had happened a long time ago…ten years was it now?…but he could have just stayed in Washington and had been fine. Maybe Misprint was the one that brought him back. She was involved with the same person he had been involved with so long ago…Maybe it was the city itself. It had this sort of magic that kept you coming back, or pining for it.

"Why'd you do it, Mis?" He asked, sitting down at his desk and cradling his head in his hands. There came no answer. Maybe she wasn't listening. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe she was having the time of her life. No, the burning pain was enough to guarantee he was hurting her.

Stephen sighed and slammed his fists down on the desk. He knew she was going through torture that he himself knew about. But he couldn't stop her. She wanted the pain and torture and whatever it was.

And there was no way he could stop her if he was going up against Spot.