a/n: I am not Meg Cabot and therefore I don't own The Mediator. I have, however, kidnapped Jesse and am holding him hostage in my room for reviews… enjoy!

El Fuego de Infieron

Heather was a messed up young lady. By eavesdropping on various conversations throughout the rest of the day I finally found out that the young woman had shot herself after her boyfriend, Bryce, had broken up with her. She had committed suicide.

Heather had taken her own life. She had made that choice to die while I… I had had no choice in the matter.

It didn't seem fair.

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In all of my excitement over Heather I had forgotten that I was going to show myself to Susannah again that afternoon. Realizing my mistake I decided to wait until late at night to return to my room. Susannah would be asleep then.

Or so I had thought.

I arrived outside her window just in case and was surprised to see the light still on. Looking in I saw Susannah fastening on a tool belt (complete with screw drivers, pliers and other foreign devices) over skin tight black pants. She was obviously going out and I had a good idea at what she would be doing.

Thinking quickly I rematerialized behind her.

She turned around almost immediately, red in the face. "Jeez, why are you still hanging around? I thought I told you to get lost."

As usual half of it went over my head and I thought she might be trying to change the subject, so I decided to forget the preamble and just get to the point. I leaned against one of the posts of her bed and looked her up and down. If Susannah hadn't looked like a lady of the evening before she most certainly did now. She was in all black, tight black, with the exception of a baggy, hooded sweater.

"It's a little late to be going out, don't you think Susannah?"

She lowered her hood. "No offense, Jesse, but this is my room. How about you try getting out of it? And my business, too, please?"

I was sure of it now. She was going to do something brash. I leaned unmoving on her bed.

"Your mother won't like your going out so late at night."

If I hadn't already been dead her look would killed me. She stuck out her chin stubbornly like my youngest sister Andrea used to do when she was indignant. "My mother. What would you know about my mother?"

"I like your mother very much," I said calmly, "She is a good woman. You are very lucky to have a mother who loves you so very much. It would upset her I think, to see you putting yourself in the path of danger."

Susannah didn't quite meet my eye. "Yeah, well, news flash, Jesse. I've been sneaking out at night for a long time, and my mom's never said boo about it before. She knows I can take care of myself."

She had lied. I was quite sure of it. I felt my eyebrow arch up seemingly of its own accord.

"Can you?"

She was watching me intently.

"I don't think so, querida. Not in this case."

Querida. Dearest One. I use to call my sisters it all the time, but I wasn't sure how it slipped out this time. Sure Susannah was pretty and brave but I had also observed that she was needlessly stubborn.

On a second thought querida fit perfectly.

She scowled, holding her hands behind her back.

"Okay. Number one, don't call me stuff in Spanish. Number two, you don't even know where I'm going, so I suggest you just get off my back."

"But I do know where you're going, Susannah. You are going down to the school to talk to the girl who is trying to kill that boy, that boy you seem… fond of. But I'm telling you, querida, she is too much for you to handle alone. If you must go, you ought to have that priest with you."

I realized the second the words had left my lips that I had done something wrong. The poor girl's eyes were huge. I straightened up immediately.

"What?" she sputtered. "How could you know all that? Are you… are you stalking me?"

"I don't know what that word means, stalking. All I know is that you're walking into harm's way."

"You've been following me," she said, jabbing a finger in my face. "Haven't you? God, Jesse, I already have an older brother, thank you very much. I don't need you going around spying­…"

If she was talking about Jake then that muchacha had to be crazy. My voice dripping with sarcasm I said, "Oh, yes. This brother cares for you very much. Almost as much as he cares about his sleep."

Susannah looked as though she might laugh but then straightened and said, "Hey! He works nights, okay? He's saving up for a Camaro!"

How can one woman be so stubborn!

I stepped in front of her. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Oh, yeah?" she huffed, "Try and stop me cadaver breath." She turned and stormed towards the door.

Cadaver breath?

The combined force of my frustration and concern took over. Just as Susannah's hand slid over the doorknob I slid the forgotten dead bolt into place. I could tell from the look on her face that she hadn't known there was a deadbolt. She jiggled the door for a few moments before she stopped and took a deep breath.

She turned around slowly. "Okay, Jesse. This is way uncool."

"I can't," I said. "Susannah. Don't go. This woman… this girl, Heather. She isn't like the other spirits you might have known in the past. She's filled with hate. She'll kill you if you can."

Susannah forced a smile. "Then it's up to me to get rid of her, right? Come on. Unlock the door now."

I felt uncomfortable with her staring at me like that… with a mixture of alarm, anger and something else. For a moment I considered just letting her go but then I remembered Heather. How casually she had talked about killing Bryce! She didn't even seem to care if anybody else got hurt. I couldn't let her go.

My decision must have shown on my face because she sighed, "Suit yourself," and walked right around me. She was climbing out the window.

Without even thinking I reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Susannah."

She didn't look me in the eyes. Instead she looked down at my hand, the look of disgust evident on her face.

Remembering myself I jerked away. She was a girl, a living girl. I shouldn't have touched her.

In that second she managed to climb half way down. I watched for a moment and then decided what I had to do. Even if it meant facing the fires of Hell I wouldn't let somebody else die.

a/n: read and review