Yay! Thanks for all of your reviews!

ValiantGoddess: Favorite list? Wowz I am honored. :blush: Now I've got a second bit some Imaginary here I come! Be prepared! Bwhahaha. Can't wait. Hmm, when do the 3 & 4 books come out for you? I shall buy them at the bookstore in town and mail them to you! And Saben is just my fluffy imagination of character :pokes her:gets death glare: Yeah. Clive is one of Meg's characters but Sab is one of mine. Bwhaha. Just to clarify. Yeah. :shifty eyes:

PrincessMia737: Aw thanks. And I shall continue! Moohahahah..oh no I started the 'moo' stuff again. :mental slap:

swishalicious girlie: No worries! This one isn't a one shot. And I'm glad you like it :D

Jesse's Querida: Continuing! Aw thanks.

You all have made my day. And I didn't know I could have a day made. Lol. On with the show.

Chapter 2: Just Like You

I'm sad to say I still haven't gotten passed second base with Jesse. Even if I did nearly get him to go to third last night, he resisted.

But no matter. I'm happy once again. And fully convinced he isn't cheating on me. But what didn't float my precious row boat was that Jesse wants me to meet this "Saben" again and actually become, like, her friend or something.

Pfft. What is in his crack pipe? I just became convinced he wasn't cheating on me with her and now he wants me to be all chummy-chummy with her? Yep. He's on crack.

Actually, I might be the one on drugs because I actually agreed to it.

So after school I drove over to the Carmel-by-the-Sea Historical Society. Mrs. Lampbert was still working there. Well, technically she doesn't 'work." She just sits around reading smutty-romance novels and makes sure all visitors sign in.

Wow. Don't herniate yourself there, Mrs. L.

After signing the stupid log (and asking where Saben was) I went to Clive's office. Well, what was once his office.

I was about to knock on the door when I heard someone talking.

"Come on. You know this one."

"No, I don't. Just tell me."

Okay, that was Jesse. Jesse was in the office with her...ALONE!

Geez, Simon,stop it! Jumping to conclusions is what got you into trouble once already.

"Jesse, you'll never learn it if I tell you all the answers."

"Come on. Throw me a bone here, Sab."

Curiosity got the best of me and I cracked the door open, just a smidgen, and peeked inside. Saben was sitting on her desk, pointing to her forearm, while Jesse paced back and forth in front of her, scratching his chin.

"Two words. One starts with a B, the other with and R," Saben smiled as Jesse's brows furrowed.

"Um–"

Hmm. Bone...bone r...bone-r...boner...ew.

"Boney roney?" I offered and barged in. Hey, it was better than the alternative. And nobody said I was patient.

"Close," Saben was still smiling warmly. Remind me why I hate her again? Ah yes. She and my love's current living arrangements.

Grr. Very grr.

"Oh!" Jesse almost squealed as the answer dawned on him. "Brachial Radialis."

"Johnny, give the boy a prize. We'll make a doctor out of you yet. Won't we, Suze?"

I smiled in response. It wasn't quite friendly, but I was working on it.

"Um, Jesse," I said rather sweetly. More so than I had intended. "Can I have a word with you?"

He swiftly looked from me to Saben and back again, before nodding and following me out the office door.

"What is it, Querida?" he asked after the door was shut behind us.

"Look. I don't know if I can do this. I mean, I don't hate her guts or anything, but—but what you're asking is kind of hard for me."

"Why? She won't bite, I promise."

Oh yeah, let's be cute about this. Well Jesse is always cute, but that's not the point.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just envious of her."

"Envious of Saben? Whatever for?" he laughed. God he has sexy laugh. Back to the point, Suze. Focus now.

"I–"

But I didn't get to finish. Right as I started to say what was on my mind, there was a loud crash from within the office, followed by Saben yelling.

"I TOLD YOU I'D GET TO IT, BUT RIGHT NOW I'M BUSY! DON'T GET VIOLENT WITH ME, MISTER, OR I'LL EXORCISE YOUR ASS!"

Whoa. Did she just say exorcise? What the hell is going on?

Jesse must have read my mind since he threw the door back open and ran inside, withe me at his heels.

One of the many filing cabinets had ricocheted across the room, presumably aimed at Saben.

And above it was a pretty guilty party. A man, who appeared to be in his mid thirties. His black hair was long enough to cover his forehead, but not his eyes; which were as black as his hair and filled with enough rage for a small army.

And did I mention he was glowing? Yeah. A nice ghostly aura was another quality he sported.

The man looked from Saben–who was on the ground, ducking from objects being hurled at her–to Jesse and I, then back again.

"Do as I asked," he spat. "Or next time I won't miss."

Then he dematerialized.

"Wow," Saben gawked with forced enthusiasm. 'Was that an earthquake? I mean, only earthquakes can cause stuff like that to happen, right?"

"That wasn't an earthquake, Saben," Jesse sighed and ran his fingers through his luscious hair. "And you know it."

She looked at the two of us, first with a guilt ridden expression, and then one of confusion.

"You mean, you saw him?"

"Yeah, we saw him," I answered. I hated it when this happened. A lengthy explanation usually ensued afterwards. "I'm a shifter, he's a mediator."

Saben still looked confused as she climbed to her feet. You could see it all was sinking it, but slowly. Like molasses or something.

"The real question is what are you?"

"I'm solamente," she said while grabbing her bag, then walked passed us. We both watched as she headed out the front door after telling Mrs. Lampbert she'd see her tomorrow.

"Hey," I said once she was completely out of sight. "What does "solamental whatsa" mean?"

"Roughly translated," Jesse sighed. "Alone."

I wonder what that's suppose to mean.

Jesse and I left shortly after that. He didn't take me home though. He took us to see Father Dominic. I kept telling him Father D didn't need to know, but he just kept insisting that we should tell him.

Traffic to the Mission was busier than usual. Usually it only takes about fifteen minutes to get there from the Society, even with all the tourists. We'd been sitting in stand still-traffic for almost an hour, before I convinced Jesse just to pull into the bank parking lot next to us and park. We could get to the Mission faster walking than driving. Halfway down the road we saw what was causing traffic to stop. Authorities from not only Carmel, but also surrounding towns were piled in the Carmel Hospital parking lot.

No one seemed to know what was going on. The panic ratio increased, though, when helicopters starting flying in, all with personnel in air-vac suites.

It was while we were staring at the hospital that I felt it; a slight tug on my sleeve. I stopped and turned around and found myself face to face with at least two dozen ghosts. A little girl, who looked no older than four, was still holding on to my sleeve.

By now Jesse had realized I had stopped and had turned to see what was going on. I didn't have to look at him to sense his shock. I could hear it in his Spanish cursing.

"Help us," the little girl pleaded. Her eyes were big, blue and filling with tears.

"How–I mean who—umWhat happened to you all?" Jesse asked, as he began counting how many ghosts were actually there.

Twenty-six total. Meh, I was close.

'We don't know what happened," an elderly man came over and pulled the little girl off me. "All I remember was getting a shot in the IV by a nurse, falling asleep, and then waking up like this."

There was a loud murmur that spread through the crowd as they all agreed on recalling the situation.

"Right," I managed, but just barely. I was becoming seriously parched just standing her. And I'm sure Jesse and I looked weird to the people on the road, you know, since we look like we're talking to thin air. "Any idea what cause you all to die then?"

Jesse shot me a look saying 'you could have worded that more nicely." But, hey, I'm no English Major, okay? And I was starting to sweat. The sun was beating down brutally at that particular moment. And if the crevice between my boobs moistened, I would have a coronary. One can't be discrete when drying their chests. Especially not when wearing a white shirt.I know from experience.

Now back to my point.

"No clue what-so-ever. But I do know who's responsible," the elderly man sighed. "Qain Paquin."

The name sent a chill up my spine. I'm not sure why though. But if this Qain person was the killer, he seemed to only have one specification for his victims.

That they be helpless.

I have no idea when Ch 3 will be up. I have a truck load of homework to get done so I'd better go get on it. I shall try and have up soon tho. Thanks to all that are reading! Love ya'll!

:Sam: