Chapter Fourteen:

As their cab sped quickly around the dark streets of Chicago, Charlie sat back against the torn cushions, holding her duffel bag to her chest and eyeing her unwanted companion warily. The young man kept glancing out the back window and then exchanging directions with the driver, until he finally settled into place, seemingly satisfied with their route and that they were not currently being followed.

Then, he began to laugh, softly at first, as if sharing a private joke with himself. But the noise quickly grew louder, and Charlie decided her first impression of him was the most accurate. He was nuts.

The young man wiped his eyes after a moment and grinned at her. Charlie glanced out the windows herself, more out of habit than necessity, and then glared at him fiercely.

"What the hell did you think you were doing back there?" she shouted with such fury in her voice that the young man's strange amusement faded.

"I just..." he began before she interrupted him.

"Shut up!" she shouted, "I didn't need your help! In a few minutes I would have been on a train, putting hundreds of miles between myself and those..."

"A few more minutes," the young man said darkly, pausing her tirade, "And Mr. Blonde and his buddy Short, Dark and Mean might have been escorting you somewhere you didn't want to be..."

"What makes you think I want to be here?!" she shouted again, almost accusingly, "You don't know me! I take care of myself!"

The young man's face had darkened into a bitter frown, but before he was about to give her another piece of his mind, their loyal cabbie called back to them with annoyance.

"If boy and girl don't stop fighting, I'm gonna kick them outta my cab!" he said, slamming one beefy hand against the steering wheel for emphasis, "Now! Kiss and make up!"

The young man next to her began to laugh again, shaking his head with embarrassment and looking over at her guiltily.

"You're Charlie, right?" he asked in a low voice with a small smile of apology.

The accurately labeled 'Firestarter' jumped slightly at the sound of her own name, and continued to glare at him over her belongings.

"How did you know that? Who are you?" she asked, just slightly over a whisper, sounding more dangerous then she had meant to.

The young man did not seem the least bit bothered by her ongoing hostility toward him. Instead, he turned toward her with childlike curiosity that was just slight more annoying than charming.

"Second question first..." he said, holding up two fingers emphatically, "My name is Jeremiah Malloy, addressed simply by the first initial of my first name. And yours is Charlie...and that's all I know about you," he leaned slightly toward her with a wry grin, and continued in a softer voice, "Except that you can stop bullets in thin air and I have to tell you that was pretty fucking cool..."

If Jay had been trying for a grin, he did not earn it, so he just kept talking. Charlie stared at him with open suspicion, so far entirely unamused by his rambling.

"First question second..." he went on, again indicating the numbers with his fingers, "I was told your name by an apparition. Like a ghost but this vision was of a living person..." she scoffed skeptically and Jay tilted his head and frowned, "This isn't bullshit, Charlie, so hear me out. This apparition was of a little boy...a little blind boy...who wasn't so blind, if you know what I mean..."

Jay saw recognition in Charlie's doubting face, but she remained silent while he continued.

"He told me you were in danger," he said, "He told me I should find you. So, I've traveled from England to Colorado and not to Chicago to find you..."

"Sounds like love to me," the cabbie chimed in unexpectedly.

His words surprised Charlie out of her bitter glare and she shot an uncomfortable look at the man next to her. Jay simply laughed again, and grinned. As if the expression had finally become contagious, Charlie also smiled and lowered her face into her bag as she felt her cheeks flush. When she finally looked up, Jay was looking at her soberly again.

"I'm part of a secret society known as the Council of Watchers," he explained in a low voice, "We were sent to River Mead to investigate what happened there. That's what we do. Investigate paranormal phenomenon and in general battle the forces of evil..."

He regretted his last words immediately when he saw that cold anger fade back into her face.

"I'm not evil," she said in a low but intense voice.

"One reason I'm not battling you right now," Jay offered repentantly, "Another would be that you'd probably kick my scrawny ass..."

Charlie's face was mostly in shadows, so Jay could not tell if his words were doing anything to alleviate the new tension between them. He decided he had better keep the conversation to the problems at hand and lay off the funny stuff.

"But, there do seem to be a bunch of somebodies out there who are looking to start some kind of fight with you," he said quietly, "I think they're who your little blind friend was warning me to warn you about..."

"He's not my friend," Charlie shot back.

"You need an ally, Charlie," Jay insisted, "If you can really do the kind of things I saw in River Mean then you're gonna need..."

"I don't need anyone," she said, and then glanced at him darkly, "And you don't need to know me. No one needs to know me. It only gets them killed."

Jay sighed heavily, "The Council is different! We can protect you!"

"What if I don't want protected?" she asked, her gaze falling to the floor.

"What do you mean?" Jay asked with confusion.

Charlie glanced over at him again, years of weariness and pain echoing in her green eyes. The expression spoke to Jay, and he understood with sickening certainty what she was thinking.

What if I'm better off dead?

There was a loud bang, and the cabbie cursed loudly as struggled to regain control of his vehicle. Jay immediately searched out the windows, expecting to see the two men from the station following them. Charlie was the only one who did not move, at least until the cab came to a complete halt. It had not taken much to pop the tires. Just a little bit of heat until the thinnest treads broke...

"I'm sorry, Jay," she said softly, meeting the young man's eyes, "But you can't help me. Good bye."

Charlie shoved the cab door open, and stepped out into the street. Jay called out and reached for her.

"Charlie, wait..." his words were cut off by a hiss of pain. When his fingers had reached her skin, the heat had been too great for him to keep his hold.

"I'm sorry..." he heard her mutter one more time before she slammed the door shut.

Jay quickly got out of the cab, ignoring the driver's annoyed barking about the tab, and started to follow her...before he realized Charlie was nowhere to be seen. He took a few deep breaths and turned once, staring in every direction in case he had missed her. But there was no sign of the transient young woman.

Jay put his hands on his hips angrily and kicked at the ground with frustration.

Damn it, he thought, as he walked back toward the ranting cabbie and handed the man a considerable wad of bills, If only I could get her to the hotel were the Watchers are staying. Once she saw what we could do...once she knew...

Jay sat heavily onto a curb as the satiated cab driver called for a tow truck. He sighed and stared down at his hands. He slowly allowed his power to fill his vision, and regarded the lights dancing in his palms with vague interest.

I should have told her, Jay thought regretfully, She would have known what the Watchers first told me...we're not the only ones with gifts...