Hear No Evil Chapter 5: The Truth Isn't Pretty, My Friend, a covenant fanfic

by IsYourH3artTaken

Hear No Evil

The Truth Isn't Pretty, My Friend

The library is eerily quiet when I shuffle past the huge double doors, feeling shady and suspicious like I should don a pair of sunglasses and a baseball hat like so many movie stars do in their flicks when they wanna play incognito. The heater hums in the far corner, rustling the pages of a few open volumes scattered across various tables. A freshman kid slouches hopelessly in the back row, a thick Physics book spread out in front of him. He holds the sides of his head with both hands, elbows on either side of the homework guide and doesn't move an inch. He looks mentally checked out. I guess it's safe to move by without detection. Better make this crafty.

Gulping, I glance over both shoulders, seeing the librarian lady typing away on the keyboard at the main desk, then tip toe over to the shelf where Sarah last put the book. Every spine looks the same, distressed in it's brownish grey color, leather chipping from being used so much and even has that old dusty attic smell. I run my fingers along every column until it touches the right one.

The Chronicles of Paganism

Aha, I think. There it is.

I slide it out and carry it to a small square table closest to the fire exit, checking the surroundings and everyone in them like I'm a wanted fugitive. Not too many students study or ring out this particular volume. And given the dark roots of Ipswich, someone discovering me reading the book will make it look like I have something grisly to hide. Or a collection of Ouija boards at home. It sucks when you're being pursued by a taboo subject. In a way, you feel like bits of your life is gradually syncing up with history. And your perception of good and evil becomes very warped.

Settling down in the wooden chair, I plop my backpack between my feet and take a deep breath. The book is heavy and over a thousand pages long. I have no idea how I'm going to get through all of this before the bell rings. Maybe starting off where Sarah left off will help.

I quickly flip through the chapters, pausing occasionally to check the titles. When I'm past the sketches of spiders, one section makes me freeze.

OTHER FORMS OF POWER

My fingers twitch against the pages. Could this be it? Finally, after all this waiting, hoping and looking... this is the answer? In all honesty, I don't exactly know what there is to find. I guess all I really need to know is that this isn't just all in my head, that I'm not some nutcase imagining different worlds on the other side of her mirror.

The drawing in the beginning of the chapter is of a full length body mirror with glass pieces flying towards the reader, so close it feels like it's going to come soaring off the paper. A shadowy black mass hovers over the frame, like it's an object of possession. The next picture is of an old, worn looking woman kneeling under a tree, wearing a saggy dark cloak with the hood pulled up like some sort of Jedi. Her face is shrunken in, eyes a glossy pure white and her skin looks like it's melting into her bones. Yikes. I hope I don't age like that.

The old lady's frail hands are clasped together in a praying gesture. Under the black and white sketch, written in small text says: "The Seer communes with the Power."

Communing... why do they make is sound like some Satanic seance?

The paragraph below it reads that throughout generations, certain members of the five families were born with special abilities that even users of the Power didn't possess. They were able to communicate the forthcomings of death by releasing a blood-curdling scream that reached out to the families in a way that only they could hear. Among the gossip of the townsfolk, they were called banshees, soothsayers, and sibyls, but among the families they were only known as one thing.

Oracle.

I turn over to the next page, pulse hammering that maybe it will mention the bloodline that these abilities first appeared in. Instead, I see nothing. The paper that's meant to continue the chapter into the following one have been ripped clean off. Jagged edges can be seen sticking out between the parchment. It's sharp when I run my finger down it, like someone came in and torn them out only recently. But who would do that?

Okay, I'm officially confused.

Stumped, I flop back against the cushion and clutch the end of the arms rests. What was supposed to be the Holy Grail of uncovering mysteries ends up as the biggest let down in all of Senior year. And all because some student thought it'd be really funny to violate school property. Sounds like something Reid would do. As much as the visual makes me giggle, I can't let it go cold. I'v come too far and saw too many horrifying things in my head to give up now. One way another, I'm gonna find out what I am.

It won't hurt to ask for help.

Sighing, I take my phone from my blazer pocket and dial Caleb's number. It rings four times before his swoon-worthy voice picks up. I hope I didn't disturb him in the middle of "anatomy class" with Sarah in the broom closet.

"You good, Cora?" He asks seriously.

"I think so," I answer him honestly. "But there's something you should see. I'm down in the library. Bring the boys."

In fear of eavesdroppers, I whisper the directions of where the table I'm at is located and he quickly agrees to meet, hanging up with the soft click. Shutting my cell off, I tuck it back in my book bag and wait with baited breath for their shapes to come swaggering through the main doors. Even though we saw each other not even three hours ago, the thought of being around Pogue again makes my heart rate rocket sky high. I don't know why he easily brings these feelings over me. It's not as if he's the first boy I've had a crush on. Maybe the first one that makes me want to ship myself off to a convent, but hey, crushes are crushes.

I guess it's because he's just been so nice when he really has no reason to. The way he gave me his tie to wrap up my bleeding hand, his sudden steely exterior whenever Cole is around or any other guy for that matter, and the fact he seems to really care about what's happening to me. The fact that I have to keep this a secret from my parents and Kate, the three people who mean the most, has seriously taken a damper to my resolve. When you go through most of your life with a support system, more than one comfort zones to fallback on when your drive has the motivation of dirt, it's easy to think you can get through one problem without them around. Besides, their strength will leak into yours, right?

Wrong.

But maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. A dangerous life also means a lonely one. Still, it's nice to have the boys to confide in.

"Cora," Caleb's voice murmurs from an aisle down.

My head snaps up in time to see Spenser's very own LFO sauntering toward the table. Their ties are undone and the first button of their white undershirts isn't in the sew holes. Judging from the sheen of sweat around their necks, they just got off of swim practice. Great, because a mental picture of Pogue's abs in a steaming shower is definitely what I need right now. Be cool, be cool, I chant to myself and open up the book again to make it seem like I have it together.

"What did you find?" Caleb asks once they're circled around the table.

I hesitate, eyes flickering between the foursome. "I'm not sure. But I know it's connected to what's going on."

"Is this gonna take long?" Tyler says with a frown. "I have a Chemistry test in twenty minutes."

"It shouldn't."

Reid rolls his eyes and plops himself onto the chair across from me, legs spread wide, one arm thrown over the back. The ink black polish over his stubby nails are chipping at the corners. "Let's get this over with then."

I bet he was picked last for recess games as a kid.

Inhaling deep, I sweep over the page where I last saw the unsightly picture of the old woman and reread the passage outloud to them, lifting the book so it's sitting on it's wide bottom ridge. The book is so long in length, it covers the entire portion of my face and only leaves a few wisps of hair visible at the top. My palms grow damp as I come closer to the last sentence, an uneasy crick morphing in my gut from reciting the old myths. Hearing it in my own voices just cements how taboo the whole subject really is.

And how careful we have to be if we want to find out more.

Once I'm done, I set down the book slowly and close the lid, scanning the boys' faces. All of them look as dark as I feel. Except Reid. He lolls against the seat, chin propped against his fist with his eyes shut, snoozing away peacefully. I give him a sharp kick in the shin under the table and he shoots awake with a curse.

Tyler lightly rubs at the back of his head, his soft blue eyes bristle with confusion. "So... what does this mean? Are you one of us?"

"I'm not sure," I tell the youngest warlock. "I don't have the Force like you do."

"The Power," Caleb corrects.

"Oh, right." Secret club names are more elaborate nowadays. "But that's not all. Look-" I open up the spot where the adjoining pages of the chapter have been removed and raise it up for the boys to see. "There was supposed to be more."

"What happened to it?" Caleb inquires.

"I don't know. I found it this way. Someone must have took them out."

Pogue's eyes sharpen. "Someone who knows about us."

I nod in confirmation and watch as their expressions turn very grave. Just how long has them and their entire bloodline have been keeping their magical genes a secret? From how cautious and watchful they look sometimes, I guess it's been several decades. Funny to think that no one has ever picked up their trail until now. What went wrong under their disguise? Or is it just plain bad luck?

"Do you think we should?" Pogue's voice breaks me from my musing and I look up to see him staring at Caleb. His best friend looks back evenly.

"It's the only way to find out," the dark haired leader answers and inclines his chin to the Pagan book. "If what they said in there is true, then she's in more danger than we think. The Book is the only way to know for sure."

Wait, The Book? There is a The Book now?

"Yeah, but, we haven't brought anyone down there but us," Pogue says and glances at me. His ridiculously handsome features are marred with apprehension. "This could freak her out."

Caleb runs a hand down his face in exasperation. His sight flits to me and stays there. "She'll be fine. She's seen worse."

If I wasn't confused before, their super secret gabfest has thrown me head long into a ditch. "Uh, guys?" I say lamely, wanting to wave a hand in the air in all my fifth wheel awkwardness.

Caleb turns to me slowly, like he's bearing bad news. "There's something we need to show you."

"What is it?"

Him and Pogue exchange another glance. "You'll see."

Right... that explains absolutely nothing. But Caleb has never given me a reason to distrust him before, so I don't see how I possibly can now. His warm brown eyes emit too much sincerity. There's not a blip in my chest as I gather my things, put the book back where it belongs and follow them out to the Entrance Hall. The corridors are always swarming with eager students the second after the final bell rings. I have to keep my eyes sharp on the back of Reid's bleach blonde head so I don't lose track of them as we wade through the crowd.

Tyler's Hummer waits pretty in the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caleb moving to his car, cell raised to his ear and assume he's cooking up some excuse to Sarah to why he can't hang out right away. If I was some unsuspecting girl and he batted those long dark lashes at me, I'd believe any word that came out of his mouth. Good thing I'm not.

"Over here, Cora!" Tyler calls from his sweet ride.

Pogue chuckles behind me and I turn to see him already straddling his bike, arm resting over the helmet that's propped against his leg. They look more muscular is the form fitting uniform slacks. For the love of God, quit looking, I scold myself, feeling the need to cover my eyes.

"You sure you wanna ride with them?" Pogue's eyes sparkle with humor, smirking when Tyler and Reid bicker about who gets to drive.

I glance over my shoulder at the two boys. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Besides, it might be better that way. Someone could see me with you and..."

And if that happens, my parents will be writing my obituary by tomorrow. Reported sightings of a girl getting on the back of a bike with her best friend's boyfriend will go down like the Titanic. Definitely not worth the risk. Getting offed by your own best girl is a scenario on my list of Things I Never Want To Happen Ever. But hey, at least it'd be by someone important to me...

Pogue holds his cherry red helmet tight between his big hands. "Yeah," he says on an exhale. "Yeah, you're right."

His tone is weird, like he was half wanting me to get on anyways.

Then a buzzing noise vibrates from his left pocket. He pulls out his mobile phone and flips open the top.

"Kate?" I ask as his eyes skim over the screen.

He nods, wide shoulders dropping.

I frown, knowing well it will be hard for him to make up a lame excuse and break plans with her. It was bumming having to lie through my teeth to get out of our usual after school hangout session. I hate keeping things from her and a part of me feels guilty that I'm the reason her own boyfriend is bowing out on her too. I turn and skip over the Tyler's Hummer, wanting for the whole day to just be done and over with already.

As I buckle myself in, Reid calls dibs in the passenger seat on driving the car back from whatever super secret meeting place they're taking me to. I wonder what they're like when Monster Truck Season tickets go on sale.

0000

For a majority of the ride, I hold my book bag close to my lap and stare bleakly out the window as we drive further and further into the vast woodlands. The trees are tall and lush, a perfect scenery for a horror movie director to shoot a slasher flick in. Leaves that have fallen onto the road whoosh past the windows and stick the front windshield. To my surprise, Tyler is a pretty safe driver. He's not a lead foot like Reid and doesn't monopolize the radio station.

The long stretch of road seems to go on for infinity. I peer around Reid's seat to see where we're heading, but it's one long continuous line down, mist lightly blanketing the top of the forest. An anxious, uneasy knot twists in my gut and I can't help but fidget in my seat at the prospect of going somewhere creepy and dangerous. With all four boys around, I know I won't be in any extreme danger, at least not from an outside source, but it's still not a comforting tableau.

After about twenty minutes, the Hummer pulls onto a vast dirt land and parks in front of an old broken wood gate. The little square where the door is supposed to be is missing and already waiting there is Caleb outside of his sleek vehicle. Pogue comes zooming through only seconds behind us as Tyler shifts into park and keys off the ignition.

Out beyond the distance... is an ancient two story house, devoid of any color and decoration. The planks look stripped to the very bone and some of the roof are almost black from decay. It feels like a bunch of zombie should be bursting out the front door.

I hop out from the back seats and take two cautious steps forward, taking in every detail. It's like a sketch from a scary story book. "Wow." It comes out a murmur.

"Hey, don't freak out, okay?" Tyler asks, already walking ahead with Reid. He's looking back at me with big, concerned eyes, as though he's thoroghly convinced I'll start screaming any second now.

"Why would I?" I reply quizzically, brows furrowing.

Reid snorts. "'Cause all the other girls did when they saw the bodies."

I freeze. "What?" My cracking voice causes him to burst into laughter.

"Ignore him," Pogue's deep voice comes from beside me. He gives the blonde miscreant a shove on the back as he passes by. "He's just messin' with you."

I want to laugh, but all I can focus on is the looming structure of the old creepy house, staring down at me like it's an open portal. I gulp and squeeze my book bag closer my to side, taking careful steps forward. Leaves and tiny twigs crinkle and snap as we head toward the tall wooden door. A shadowy figure moves past the window overlooking the field on the top level. How can someone actually stay in that place?

Caleb leads the way inside the house. When the door slowly creaks open, a gush of cold air rustles the fine points of his hair. Tyler and Reid follow suit, trailing behind him as he stalks through the foyer and down a short hallway with a door at the other end. There are oil lamps and candles placed on certain tables and book shelves, giving the house a very Victorian era vibe. There's a crooked banister that's missing chunks of foundation, spiraling all the way up to the second floor.

When I reach the door to what I guess is the basement, I freeze right at the top stair. The other side is pitch black, but there's a tiny circular beam of light at the very bottom.

And suddenly, I'm not just nervous.

I'm petrified.

"Hey," Pogue's voice says calmly behind me. His hands lightly touch my arms. "I'm right here."

The baritone of his voice settles my rising pulse a little, but still, my stomach can't help but do flips. I gaze down at the flight of stairs like it's my final walk to the electrical chair and take a deep breath. Pogue's thudding footsteps follow me down as I slowly descend each step, watching the light grow brighter and it's shadow waver against the walls. As I come around the curve, I realize it's candles placed along either side of the staircase. Nice touch.

When I skip off the last step, I freeze and my fingers loosen in the strap of my messenger bag, making it fall and knock against my knees. "Whoa..."

The basement, more like an underground cave, is something straight out of Tales from the Crypt. There are statues everywhere, long and primitive looking with weird carvings drawn along the surface. Candles dot the walls, small ledges in the sculptures, standing on wicks or by themselves. In the center of the room, lies a metal circular symbol. A stone pit is formed around the middle, like something is meant to be burned there. The only thing that's relatively normal is two books shelves pushed against the far right wall.

Five seats are surrounding the stone pit and each boy is standing beside one. It looks like they're about to break into some synchronized dance routine. Or perform a human sacrifice.

That Pagan book is really getting to me.

Caleb glances towards one of the book shelves, eyes flashing gold, then a thick black volume comes floating out towards the stone pit. The metal lines around it alights in flames.

Wow, I think to myself. They really do have the Force.

"What is all this?" I ask Caleb as the book faces him in the air, as if he's holding it upright, and flips through the index by itself.

"Our history," Caleb responds mysteriously. "The one in the library doesn't cover the full story. Everything about our ancestors, about us and what lead to the secret of the Power -" he gestures to the pages, "-is all in here."

I start to catch on. "So... if I'm somehow connected..."

Caleb nods. "You'd be in here too."

The beginning chapter shows a list of names of the families that were accused of committing witchcraft during the Hunt. More than five were convicted, but not all were guilty, with one reported of fleeing town before any charges could be read to them. The last surname shown at the very bottom is Jameson. The words practically glow off the page, hypnotizing me like a part of myself is trapped within the parchment. Then the pages begin to flip to the other sections, at an alarmingly fast rate I don't know how Caleb can read through any of it.

After a moment, Caleb leans forward intently.

"What is it?" Pogue says, noticing his closest friend's shift in demeanor.

"This wasn't here before," the raven haired warlock murmurs. The book stops at a segment five chapters before the end and lays flat on it's back in the stone pit so we all can see, flames close to licking it's sides.

On the page, written in fancy dark scrawl, is an entire paragraph dedicated to the importance and the dangers of finding each warlock tribe's respective Oracles; a person with precognitive type abilities that warn the coven members of approaching threats, either from outside parties or one of their own.

Oracles...

That's just like in the Pagan book I read earlier. Is there meant to be more of them? Is that what I even am? A blizzard of jumbled thoughts cloud my head as Caleb skirts his dark brown eyes over the pages, rubbing his lower jaw slowly after getting to the last section. He looks grim, like he just finished reading a murder scene report. Uh oh. This can't be good.

"It says that every hundred years, the five families were supposed to have their own messenger, a member descending from a single bloodline: the Jameson family." Caleb glanced at me. "Otherwise known as St. James." I gulped as he continued. "They're fated to show their true form when an immediate threat is born into the Power or when coming into contact with one of us. They warn us when the Power is used beyond regular limit and any presence of outside danger. Once the trials started, one by one, they started disappearing. Their absence raised suspicions in the town and before the Court could take in the last remaining St. James house into custody, they left town. No activity has been recorded of them since. "

A long beat passes as Caleb collects a breath.

My own brain is practically fried sunny side up. Why would my parents keep something this from me? Settling your only child down at the dinner table and explaining that your ancestors were accomplices to five magic practicing families' life styles and were forced to flee the scene and change last names before they burned you at the stake seems right up there along with the birds and the bees talk. Either this all just another missing segment from that damn Pagan book or my parents really want to know how I'd pull together in face a life crippling revelation.

"No record of them since," I vaguely echo what Caleb previously explained in a murmur, eyes skirting the floor. "So that means..."

Caleb's solemn nod confirms my grim intuition. He claps his hands on his wide school trouser covered thighs and pushes himself to his feet. "You're the only one left."

"So," Tyler begins, a little excitedly. "Does this mean you're one of us?" His blue irises shine bright.

"I don't think so," I tell him. "I can't do what you do. But I think whatever is in me... is meant to help you."

Reid scoffs, forever unimpressed. "How the hell are you supposed to do that when all you do is scream?" He's probably used to hearing girls wailing under different circumstances.

"That's more you can say," Pogue jumps to defend, smirking when Reid flips him off.

Caleb rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers like a parent who got called in to the office because their kid pushed someone else off the monkey bars. "Now we know," he declares. "You're tied to us. And whoever's been using, you can predict and communicate with."

"But what do we do now?" I ask. "Do you want me to try to lure in whoever has been doing this?"

Caleb quickly shakes his head. "No. No, that's too dangerous. Your link with us has already put a target on your back as it is. From now on, we're gonna have to watch when we use and how we use it." The boys nod in agreement, even Reid, who does it more half heartily. Then Caleb shifts his focus to me. "Maybe you should start thinking about moving into the dorms so we know where you are-"

An immediate NO flag pops into mind. "Whoa, wait, hold on. I know this a crazy time, but... I don't think I can just up and leave home like that."

Caleb sighs. "Cora, these attacks are only going to get worse. Do you really want to risk your parents being effected by it?"

Damn. He's got a point there. If my Mom had managed to pinpoint something else was stirring the pot that night when my mirror broke and it wasn't caused by some innocent little arachnid... then who knows what else she picked up since then. And what if my Dad finds out too? His gasket would blow probably harder than hers. How does someone so normal, so clean cut and predictable as them handle something so life changing like this? I don't even know what to call it... this thing inside me.

I guess in a way, that's precisely what it is. A presence. A strong, malevolent presence that wants me to help the boys, but only scares me to a point that I have no idea how to process anything. I don't know whether to think of it as a blessing or curse. Neither friend or foe.

I swallow the lump in my throat and stare at the ground. "No, but... what about you guys? And Kate and Sarah? Doesn't their safety matter too?"

Pogue's jaw locks. He looks like he's ready to take on Odin himself.

"Let's just face it," I say. "It's better if you all just keep your distance. No one is safe around me."

The room falls silent.

Nobody argues.

0000

The secret meeting doesn't last long.

After the bomb drop of the century, Caleb comes to the conclusion that we all need some time to let this sink in. Considering that the entire week has felt like a volleyball match and I was the ball getting pounded, it's nice to be able to take a breather from it all, for however long. Although before we all left, Caleb insisted that we speak of this again, once our heads are cleared - and judging from the clipped, no nonsense tone of his voice, he means that to be soon. I half expected that. Of course Caleb isn't the kind of guy to sweep dust under the rug after it's been acknowledged. The issue, the fear is still there and still very much needs to be dealt with.

I just don't know how.

The ride back home is just as awkward as the trip to the mystery house of doom. Reid and Tyler squawk at each other like the playground boys they are, barely realizing they have an already emotionally unstable teenaged girl in the backseat who wasn't yet completely unhinged. The things you hear from the average adolescent male...

Surprisingly, the night passes without the disturbance of a nightmare, albeit, I don't get much sleep at all. Caleb's words about my parents swirl in my head like a hot drink that just been freshly stirred. Even now, in the middle of the night, my presence in the house brings more danger to them than leaving our front door open for every whackjob to enter. Moving into the dorms is a better idea after all. Mom and Dad could live in peace and wouldn't have to worry about me breaking anymore expensive glass appliances. But then what would happen to Kate and Sarah? Or a possibly new unsuspecting roommate? They would be just in harm's way as my parents. Maybe even more since the last incident actually took place during school. What would they think if they saw me acting like a madwoman? Or worse, what if something happened to them?

I'd never live with myself, knowing they got hurt because of me and I could have done something to stop it, yet didn't anyways.

My reservation in hell would only get hotter.

0000

The next morning, I wake up with a surprisingly clear head. And by that, I mean my temple isn't pulsing with aching blood. Mentally though, I couldn't be more befuddled than I was last night. I thought that maybe sleeping on yesterday's events would ease some of the stress from my mind, but the morning sunlight streaking through my bedroom curtains doesn't do anything for the nerves at all. It just makes me want to burrow back under the comforter and wait for it all to pass over until exit exam day. But then I would have to deal with that...

Okay, maybe not-so-great plan.

My parents don't ask much questions when I join them downstairs for breakfast in a less talkative fashion that even they would consider gabby. Dad just sips his steaming mug of coffee, fluffs open his newspaper and reads the business section. Mom, on the other hand, eyes me weirdly between every fork full of her quinoa fruit salad, like she's trying to interpret every breath I take as something with ulterior motive. It gets to the point where I can't even eat except pushing the contents of my plate around with a utensil before excusing myself early to change in my uniform.

And I thought I woke up on the wrong side of the bed...

School doesn't feel that much better either. When I walk into the first class of the day, sleep deprived and lumpish, my emotional state brightens at the prospect of hanging out with Kate again. Since I ashamedly backed away from our plans the previous day, she hasn't called or texted me all morning, which is very uncharacteristic of her. I hope she isn't too mad about that. The thought of unintentionally hurting her feelings makes me want to lay down the gauntlet and confess everything to her. But the outcome of that happening will only lead to her running away screaming and me being sent off to Area 51. It's better to keep quiet about everything for as long as I can.

But I don't know how long that will be.

Pausing in the middle of the class stairs, I fiddle with my messenger bag, skirting my fingers around for that slip of notebook paper I was sure I lent Kate a week or so ago.

"Hey, Kate," I call out to her, walking toward our usual seats. My focus is neck deep in the contents of the tote. "Do you still have those notes I gave you last-" When I look up at the booth, my hand drops back to my side in surprise. "Oh... you're not Kate."

Sitting in the seat of my absent closest friend, is none other than Chase Collins. Shameless flirt and professional frat boy fight breaking extraordinaire.

"Nope," he grins that cheeky smile that sent Kate and Sarah's brains short circuiting. All his books are already neatly laid out. I guess he's here to stay. "But I am one hell of a note taker."

I giggle and set my things down. "For my sake, I hope you're right." Just like any high prestige private school, Spenser expects plenty from their students and doesn't let just any dunce into their curriculum. My grade point average has managed to stay fairly even when doing assignments separately, but still, it feels strange to be without Kate's reassuring half.

Speaking of which, where did she even go? It's not like her to call out of class without telling me first. She might be upset about yesterday. I would have been too if my boyfriend and best friend cancelled plans on me only mere hours apart. Guilt stricken, I unzip my phone from my school bag, click up to her contact name and quickly type up a message.

Cora (Mobile)
Hey, missing u in class :( Where r u?

It takes ten minutes for her response to pop up.

Kate (Mobile)
Sorry! Have a bad headache. In nurse's office. Miss u 2!

A well of mixed emotions fills up to the brim in my chest; relief at the fact that she's okay, disappointment at being without her company and concern for the sudden Doctor visit. Kate's always been one of good health and headaches aren't usually something taken a first sign of serious illness, although with all the weirdness that's been going on, I can't help but feel perturbed about it all. She showed no signs of being ticked off about what happened the other day, which is slightly comforting. Given how increasingly paranoid I've been getting, I better count my lucky stars this ruse has been pulling off. Eventually the truth has to slip out and she'll look at me like I just morphed into the undulating staircase crawling girl from The Grudge.

Sighing, I tuck my cell back in my bag and turn my attention to the front as the teacher wipes the chalkboard clean of marks and starts his lesson.

After a few minutes of focus, I feel a soft pat on my skirt covered knee from something long, hard and scrawny. In a daze, the sudden sensation makes me blink and glance down at the spot, seeing nothing except the thick pleated grey material. Chase sits ever so studiously through the lecture, book propped up against his upturned leg, chin resting on his closed fist with the pointer finger up by his cheek. His eyes flit occasionally from the chalkboard back down to his text book. In his left hand, is a plain yellow highlighter. I narrow my eyes at him a little, but the suspicion doesn't last long when he goes about his innocent business and patiently listens to the Professor's persistent droning.

Hmph. Maybe it's nothing.

But only minutes after my concentration is directed back at the chalkboard, the familiar tap tap of a small squarish mass on my leg pulls me back from the clinches of study. My leg does a spasm of surprise and instinctively, I reach out with my hand to catch whatever has been poking at me, but it only grasps air.

What the hell is- my thoughts freeze prematurely when I do a quick skim of the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary on an otherwise boring class with equally mundane people. But then I see Chase, reclining back in the same casual way as before. Except now, his baby features aren't serious and aloof, like he's posing for a shoot in a magazine cover. He's smirking.

And in his left hand, he slowly twirls a brand new, freshly sharpened No. 2 pencil.

Smiling myself, I discreetly snatch my mechanical pencil from the long desk and romp him on his trouser covered leg. The corners of his lips twitch up even wider and he returns the gesture when the teacher has his back to the class. This little game goes on for minutes between long intervals, seeing which could get in more than three thumps at a time. I'm on the winning side until the teacher orders us to turn a page in our text books, and Chase takes the opportunity to whack me particularly hard on the knee. I make a noise and sunder the quietness of class.

The teacher turns around slowly to my row, like this is the moment he's been waiting for all day to use a long awaited medieval punishment plan. "Is there something you'd like to announce to the class, Ms. St. James?"

I shake my head. "No, sir. Except that Chase Collins is a terrible study partner."

"I see," the teacher sighs. "Another disruption and I'll have to send the both of you to the Provost's office." His gaze bounces between the Collins kid and I. "Is that clear?"

We both nod.

The classroom resumes back into it's regular flow after that, the residual scraping of pencils against notebook paper and eraser grinding picking up quickly. When I'm the sure the teacher's hawk eye isn't on us, I glare the fires of Mount Doom at Chase, who only shrugs cheekily with a grin. He even has slight dimples on either of his post-puberty blessed cheeks. No wonder Kate looks at him like his biceps are made of hard candy. It's always the pretty ones that reel you in first.

It doesn't take long for the bell to ring.

Like after lecture, I wait until the room is nearly close to completely cleared out before packing my things away and exiting out into the corridor. Despite his lean muscular build, Chase manages to stay by my side throughout the time it takes to put away the notebook paper, pencils and text book, all without me noticing until we accidentally knock shoulders whilst trudging to the door. The action makes me stumble back a step and glance up at his shape in bewilderment, which turns into slight shock when I recognize that it's him and that he's still here. How do big dudes move so quietly?

Chase chuckles sheepishly and makes some sort of offhanded comment about it being "his bad." What a sap.

We part ways shortly after proceeding into the hall, having differing schedules at that point. But still, we both smile and offer casual goodbyes as I turn and skip back to my locker to swap out supplies. The whole partner switcheroo went better than I thought, at least as good as teaming up with any jock can get, if only for a few hours. Kate will always be my first choice, but it's nice to know not every boy in the school is an ignoramus.

"So when did you start hanging out with Chase?" Pogue's deep and very disgruntled voice manifests from beside my locker, tone like a snake who's just clamped their fangs around someone's ankle.

I shut my locker door slowly, caught off guard. "Not much at all."

"He seems like he enjoys being around you." From the clench in his jaw, it's obvious that the Collins guy is an extremely touchy subject for Pogue and easily pokes a stick at his man-pain. But what confuses me is what the competing dreamboat could have possibly done to piss him off today. Kate wasn't even in the class, much less sitting next to him. So why should he be upset?

"I wouldn't know it if he does. Why does it bother you so much?"

"I don't like the guy. Something about him just doesn't seem right."

"Well, I'm sorry," I say dryly. "But I didn't realize I needed to run my friends by you."

"What?" Pogue answers lowly, taken aback at that and his brows come together. "No, that's not what I meant." He sighs softly and idly runs his fingertips over the back of his neck, ruffling the smooth hanging strands of hair. Oh, no, I tell myself. Not me. His masculine wiles and delicious Axe body spray scent might have worked on a day where my hormones rages more than my brain, but today is not that day. "Look, I'm not trying to sound like a dick, but-" Pogue continues, sounding much more collected than before. At least he caught himself before he completely crossed over into overbearing tool territory. Most that do wind up in the sellout zone with Aaron. "I don't trust him. I've seen the way he looks at Kate and now you..."

I glance down at my school shoes, scrunching my toes inside. What do you say to something like this? I'm really glad you genuinely care about my best friend and aren't out to hurt her, also I'm so attracted to you it feels like I'm going out of my mind so that kinda sucks too?

No, that won't work.

Instead, I plaster on a fake smile and pretend that everything is smooth sailing. "It's cool. I get it. You don't want any creeps around Kate. Neither do I. That doesn't always make you a jerk, you know." I pause between my mini emotional pep talk to zip up my book bag and sling it over my shoulder. The weight of it feels strong enough to pull me down through the floorboards and bury me with the exterminated rodents laying in heaps under the school.

"It's not just that," he admits. "If I told Kate this... she'd be pissed at me."

"Why? You're a good boyfriend." The comment falls out so easily from my mouth, I almost slap a hand against my lips. Oh, no. Now I've done it.

Pogue laughs in that deep, mesmeric bass tone of his and shifts his weight against the metal locker. The movement comes off a little flustered, more so by the sparkle in his eyes. He even hesitates to meet my gaze full on. "You really think?"

I sputter for an explanation that isn't too implicating. Get it together, I think. Composure. "Well, I mean... from what I've seen of you two, yeah. You're perfect. For each other, I mean!" Smooth, Cora. Smooth. "I'm sure she knows that too."

Pogue suddenly goes stiff at that and he keeps an intense eye contact that makes me feel like I'm being physically exposed. He blinks slowly, thick lashes fluttering and his expression visibly lightens. "Shit, sorry," he murmurs ruefully, probably realizing just how hotheaded and impulsive he sounded earlier. "Guess I lost it there for a minute, huh?"

I can't help but smile. "Don't worry about it. It happens to all of us. Besides, Reid is already the designated dick of the group."

Pogue chuckles deeply, an easygoing grin tugging at the sides of his full lips. Dear God, why. "Yeah," he agrees, pulling his stance away from the row of lockers to walk next to me on an our way to the next scheduled class. "Right about that."

I feel like a ball of soft fuzziness rolled in sugar at the realization that I actually made him laugh and hold onto the strap of my messenger bag like it's an IV drip keeping me conscious. Ever since Dad brought his car to that mechanic's garage, we never had a chance to really talk, just the two of us; if you count fidgeting awkwardly while a dude tinkers under a hood could be considered alone time, especially in the lingering presence of other oil slicked men and an equally uptight parent. I guess fate is working in my favor that way. The torch I carry remains invisible and an important part of my life with Kate doesn't get destroyed. Although there is still those dreams keeping me up at night, the physical pain that comes with it, the distressing notion that everyone I love is in the constant grip of danger, plus trepidation of living every day life.

It could always be worse.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Pogue and I continue our leisure stroll down to the next appointed class, conversing casually through the halls while I try my best not to brush against him as we move, even though our arms bump together with every other step. It comes to the point where it feels like there's this bubble of tension and awkwardness is enveloping us both and the only way to make it stop is to address it. But going with that route, I might as well plot to nuke the city and get tossed in the slammer. Or turning Aaron into a good hearted man. Yeah... the first one might be easier.

Shortly before we approach class, the hand holding forms of Caleb and Sarah come practically skipping our way, expressions content and love lost. The happy couple don't suspect a thing by our sudden twosome company, but with my cheeks getting warmer by the minute, it seems as if it won't last long at all.

Sarah leans into Caleb's side as her mancandy and Pogue talk like they haven't seen each other in weeks. To any passing student, it probably appears as though two couples are chatting merrily before class, if it weren't for my super uncomfortable disposition. Sarah peeks up occasionally at the dark haired warlock leader, basking in all his attractiveness as he speaks and much to my chagrin, meets my hesitating gaze when there's a break in conversation. The look on my face feels like it's painting it's own picture, in every language, in every way people can understand.

Sarah and I lock gazes and for a second...

I swear I've been found out. But as the beats pass, a small smile graces her lips and her body leans back into Caleb without a care in the world. She doesn't notice a thing.

I sigh with relief.

Boy, am I good.

A/N: The whole Banshee thing was probably pretty predictable, but I tried to make it an interesting reveal regardless. I borrowed a little from the Teen Wolf version, but mostly based it off folklore with a splash of my own ideas to tie it into the Covenant universe. Anyways, I hope it made sense. :)

I promise that I will finish this story one day. I love writing for it and entertaining you guys too much to give up on it now.

Thanks for reading! Take care of yourselves and have a great start to the new year!