Disclaimer: I do not lay claim to anything in this story, except, perhaps, Castrata and her friends…. maybe…. I am not Lynne Ewing, much as I wish I could be, and I am merely playing around with her characters for my amusement, and hopefully, for yours.
Author's Note: Okay! My goal is to update quickly, and we'll see if I continue to follow my goal… however, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and keep those reviews coming! ;-)
Castrata slammed her car door shut and locked it, stretching her tanned legs in the spring breeze. (A/N: Yes, I'm not sure if it's spring, but I'm saying it is, so it is…)
La Brea High was as crowded as ever, and the heat waves of and LA summer were on their way. Castrata absent-mindedly checked herself over—it was an annual routine as she waited to go through the security monitors. She was wearing a new jean miniskirt with straw sandals. Her toenails were painted a pale blue, spritzed with silver, and matched her shirt's color to the dot. Over her pale blue/silver spaghetti-strap top she wore a white, button down tee, as was the style. Her long blonde hair was down in slight curls, and she wore hoop-earrings. She absent-mindedly approved the outfit. God, this line was long.
Castrata's nose itched, and she sneezed rapidly. Her eyes watered. Muttering to herself, she wiped her streaming eyes.
"There you are!" Jadyn said, walking straight up to Castrata. "Gosh you're fast! I could have sworn that you were in line a second ago."
Castrata blinked. Wasn't she in line….?
Around her, students continued the usual hustle and bustle of school life, as they chatted with their friends, copied each other's homework, and opened their lockers. Wait. Opened their lockers? Castrata blinked again.
She wasn't standing in the line anymore. Oh, no. She was in the hall were her locker was—on the opposite end of the school.
"I was…." She muttered to Jadyn.
"You were what?"
"Was in line."
Jadyn studied Castrata carefully, as though Castrata were a specimen under a magnifying glass that she wished to observe. "Are you okay?"
"I'm… not sure." Castrata said, her mind reeling. "I just… well, I was in line a second ago, then I sneezed, then… I was here."
Jadyn frowned. Then her face brightened. "Maybe you're realizing your power!"
"Yeah." Castrata said, finally. "Maybe."
School passed in a blur. A constant headache, which began soon after her conversation with Jadyn, followed Castrata through the day, continuing its plague.
"Ready to go to Planet Bang?" Ariasti asked that night.
"Sure." Castrata mumbled. She wasn't in the mood for the quick beats, dancing, and couples making out in the corners. But if she didn't go, her friends would wonder. "I don't think I feel like changing, though."
"No prob," Ariasti said, easily. "You look hot anyway."
Castrata smiled slightly. "Thanks. I wish this headache would go away, though."
"Have you taken anything?" Lanya asked, from where she was slithering into a black, skintight halter dress.
"Yeah. Several times. It isn't helping though."
"You okay?" Lanya asked.
"Yeah. I'll be fine. Let's go."
Planet Bang was just as unappealing when they got there, as it had been in Ariasti's bedroom. If not more so.
Castrata's head was seriously killing her. She sat down to watch her friends dance. A hand tapped her shoulder. She half-turned. It was Tymmie. She sighed inwardly.
"Yes?"
"Dance with me." It wasn't a question.
Tymmie's eyes bored into her's. She was drowning…
The world went dark before her eyes….
Suddenly, it was as if she was hearing two of her arguing with each other. Or herself. Or… whatever.
Come with me…
No! I have to stay here… Have to hold on!
Come with me… come… come to me…
Breathe. Just Breathe…
Come…come with me…
Castrata wrenched herself from the grasp of the voices. She was being torn apart… falling… drowning in hate…dying… and reborn again.
"Help!" She gasped out. A strong hand grasped her waist, pulling her back for air.
"Are you alright?" Tymmie asked. The playful, seductive look was gone from his eyes, replaced with worry.
Castrata tried to say, 'Yes, I'm fine', but her throat refused to make the words.
"Castrata, you need to go home. Stanton can help you."
Castrata nodded dumbly. Tymmie pulled her outside into the parking lot.
"What about the others?" She asked, when she found her voice again.
"I contacted them. They know what happened, and they know to stay away."
"Why?"
"Because I don't know what's wrong yet. I don't know if its just you, or contagious, or something else entirely."
Castrata tried to nod, but her head felt like it was being split apart.
Come… come to me…
Hold on!
Come… come to me…
"No!" She gasped.
"No?" Tymmie looked worried.
"I…" Castrata tried to speak, but was cut off by a fit of coughing, which began and wouldn't stop. Her breath came in short bursts…. the world was going fuzzy again… her head was being torn apart… she couldn't breathe…
Come… come to me…"Hold on, Castrata," Tymmie said, squeezing her hand as they rocketed down the dark LA roads.
"Is she going to be okay?" Tymmie asked.
"I'm not sure…" Her father's voice was strained…
"Drink this, it'll help…"
"Sleep."….
Castrata awoke sometime later. The sun was up. She felt perfectly normal. She frowned. Wasn't there a reason why she shouldn't feel fine? If only she could remember…
"Hey, Dad!" She said, bounding downstairs. Her father looked up.
"Are you feeling better?" He asked.
"Of course. Why shouldn't I?"
"Are you okay, Castrata?"
"Why shouldn't I?" She repeated.
Her father studied her carefully. "Well…"
Castrata crossed the room, and checked the schedule for the day. "Hey, this thing's off!" She complained. "We're six days ahead!"
"No, honey, we're not… you were out for awhile…"
"Out?"
"Unconscious."
Suddenly, it all came rushing back. Castrata sat down heavily. "What happened to me?" She whispered.
Her father shook his head. "I don't really know…"
"But I feel fine now! What's wrong with me?"
Again, her father shook his head. "I just don't know…"
Castrata nodded, dumbly.
The day continued, uneventfully. Her friends didn't avoid her, but they shared worried looks whenever they thought she wasn't looking.
"You alright for serving?" Dad asked.
"Yeah, sure." Castrata said. She had a slight headache, but not too bad. She changed, grabbed the tray, and entered the room. Today, Tymmie, Zahi, and a stranger were seated in the room. She raised an eyebrow. This was very important company. After seeing all the Followers parade by her house, she could gauge power levels with ease. Zahi was a member of the Inner Circle, with moderate power (as far as the Inner Circle went), Tymmie was at the high end, and the stranger… well…
The man had extremely pale skin, bottomless eyes, and dark hair. His features were hot, and a little too perfect. He wore power and an heir of command like a second skin. A dark cloak was settled about his shoulders.
This man, Castrata realized, was even more powerful than her father. That alone gave her the creeps. She met his eyes unflinchingly. As she stared into his bottomless eyes, she got the irrepressible feeling of being dunked into ice-cold water.
She ignored it.
After several minutes, he laughed softly—a dead, chilling sound—and looked away. "What an interesting daughter you have here, Stanton."
Castrata could feel the pressure building in her head.
"Yes," Dad said, his voice cool, and betraying none of the emotion that Castrata alone knew he felt. "She'll be leaving now."
"Oh, I don't know about that." Castrata looked around for the source of the voice before realizing that it was her. The pressure was at bursting point now…
"Castrata—leave." Dad said tightly.
"No." The pressure, so high a second ago, was completely gone. Poof. Just like that.
The stranger laughed softly. "She is so like you, Stanton. May I inquire to the mother?" Castrata sat down next to Zahi and Tymmie, across from the stranger.
"Serena Killingsworth." Stanton's voice was utterly calm, but Castrata could see a vein pulsing in one of his hands. He wasn't angry—he was tense.
"Ah. That would explain the power. You do know that she has extreme potential?"
"You know," Castrata said, sipping some soda, "I am here in this room. I'm not sure where you came from, or who you are, but I'm pretty sure that it's polite not to talk over someone practically anywhere you go."
She didn't know why she'd said it. Her mouth was talking all on its own.
The stranger turned his eyes on her.
"You may call me Ethan," he said, voice deadly soft, "I come from a place that is colder than hell. Tell me, Daughter of Stanton, what is your name?"
"Castrata Selene Raliss Nocitis Larhk."
Ethan (although she knew that wasn't his name. Whenever shifty characters say 'You may call me', you can guarantee it isn't their name. Plus, something seemed to ring false about the whole situation) sucked in a breath. "How intriguing," Ethan muttered. "What an interesting choice of names," he said to Stanton, who cringed slightly. Zahi and Tymmie were pointedly ignoring the whole exchange—they appeared to be quite immersed in their soda cups.
"Her mother's choice."
"All?"
"No—I chose 'Nocitis', and 'Castrata'."
Ethan turned to Castrata. "Your name, roughly translated is this: Castrata, 'She who walks the winding shadows'. Selene, 'Creator of the Moon and Hope'. Raliss, 'Lady of the Eternal Radiance', Nocitis, 'Daughter of the Night', and Larhk, "Creator and Destroyer'."
"How very appropriate," Castrata said with a smirk.
Ethan smiled slightly. "One would say that it is only half appropriate—for you cannot be both 'She who walks the Winding Shadows' and the 'Lady of Eternal Radiance'. That is contradictory, is it not?"
"You tell me." Castrata said.
Ethan's dark eyes flashed. "I just did. Tell me, Castrata, do you find mouthing off at your father's superior entertaining? Are you not intimidated in the slightest?"
Castrata knew at once that the second question was the most important. What Ethan really wanted to know was this, 'Do you find me scary?'
She considered. He was intimidating—yes. However, something in her instincts told her that she shouldn't—couldn't—bow down to him.
Something stirred, deep inside the depths of her mind.
Come to me… Come to me…
Castrata stretched slightly, and then smiled, coyly. "Intimidating?" She purred, "Of course I do."
Ethan's mind found her's again, forcing her to reveal her intent. Castrata followed him.
Come to me… Come to me….
Inside her own mind was a flurry of activity. A battle between two opposing forces. But Ethan couldn't know that. Quickly, so as to not attract suspicion, she immersed herself in one part, not even bothering to check which.
She felt an instant change. She stretched again, letting her top ride up. She suddenly felt so… sinful. Wicked. It was a good feeling.
She smiled. The smile didn't reach her icy eyes. "Sorry boys, but I can't stick around. I have things to do…" she trailed off, and laughed, a sound that chilled the bones of everyone in the room.
She turned as she left the room, and no one missed the sheer cold that had enveloped her eyes. No one had missed the strength of her body and the tension that had suddenly enveloped her. No one missed the abrupt change in manner as she suddenly became different. No one missed the bottomless depth of her blue eyes.