Hey guys! I'm SO SORRY I didn't update when I said I would, but school got in the way bigtime and I had to concentrate on my studies. But school's out for summer and I hope to update more often. Please enjoy this short chapter.

DISCLAIMER: Dont own "Covenant", Panic! at the Disco songs, or Plain White T's songs.

First pt: Itlaics: Dream Bold Italics: Thoughts

Rest of it: Italics: Song lyrics

Astaire felt funny. Strange. It was as if she had just stepped off a Tilt-a-Whirl after having too much to drink. Not that she drank, of course. Shaking her head slightly, she pushed dark brown curls away from her face. She looked around herself, not understanding where she was. All she could see were bright colors; stripes and polka dots flowed mystically on tackily shaded fabric.

"Delilah…"

Astaire turned, trying to find the voice. How did it know her middle name?

"Delilah…"

It sounded like a young girl, but it was unfamiliar. The voice seemed to be flowing out of the only defined object in sight, a somber black tent. In sprawling purple letters, the word " Fortunes" was written in loopy cursive.

I'm at a fair?

Astaire walked toward the tent's entrance, her legs moving hesitantly, as if she were itching to run away. But she couldn't. Astaire couldn't explain it, but she needed to know what was going on.

She pushed aside the flap of the tent and ducked inside. She instantly and instinctively wanted to take a step back, for the inside was a silver color so shiny it was blinding. Astaire narrowed her eyes against the glare, and raised a hand to shield her eyes. But something dropped from her raised fingers. It too was shiny, but it glimmered sinisterly, the tangy cooper smell burning her nose.

Blood?

Astaire looked down and wanted to scream. She was covered in blood, her white t-shirt clinging to her slender body morbidly. It was everywhere, so abundant that she couldn't understand how she was alive if it was all her own.

"It isn't," the girl said. She was still invisible to Astaire, her voice floating through the space like a breeze. "It's the blood of all you hold dear. This blood will be on your hands if you don't open your eyes."

Astaire moved her hand away from her face, letting the light hit her. It was painful; it was not a burning sensation, but rather an ache in her chest. Astaire's thoughts whizzed by erratically. What did this mean? Who was this girl? Why was this happening?

"Open your eyes, Delilah."

Astaire spun around, looking for the voice. She had to find it. She had to know what was happening.

"Who are you?" Astaire demanded. Her panic and terror made her voice sharp, uncontrolled. She could feel the blood running down her body, warm and macabre, leaving her with a freezing sensation. "What are you telling me? Whose blood is this? Why is this happening?"

" Those who possess the power hunger for more. Open your eyes."

"What is going on?!"

"Open your eyes…"

The tent started spinning, and threw Astaire to the floor violently. She slid and hit the side of the structure, gasping and looking wildly around her. She felt like she was going to black out. Everything was moving so fast, so hectically. Was everything lost already?

"Not if you open your eyes."

And Astaire swore she saw a glimpse of the illusive girl. She was around thirteen, all corkscrew auburn hair over piercing blue eyes and slightly colored skin.

That girl…

And then, everything went devastatingly white.

Whoa-oh, the conductor is beckoning.

Astaire opened her eyes slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was in her…old bedroom? What happened? She looked down at the ivory duvet. The gold swirls covering it made her head hurt and she shifted her eyes ahead of her. What had hap--oh. She remembered. Why wasn't she in the hospital? She looked down, expecting to see a bullet hole or a scar marring her chest. There wasn't one. How was that even possible?

Come, congregation, lets sing it like we mean it. No…

She cocked her head listening to the music. She wondered who had been in her room and turned it on. Suddenly, she grimaced. The beat of the song suddenly began to intensify her headache. She waved a hand to turn it off.

Hey there Delilah, I know times are getting hard—

Astaire waved her hand forcefully in an attempt to turn it off again. This time, the stereo abruptly fell silent. Why hadn't it worked the first time? Astaire's mouth turned into a slight frown as she stared at the device. And why had it played that song?

Delilah.

The name rang through her head like a siren bell. She vividly remembered her dream; she could still hear the girl calling to her and the blood slithering down her arms like poisonous snakes. Why had the girl called her by that name?

Astaire carefully pulled her legs from under the covers and set them on the floor. It was time to get up. From the lack of people crowding her bed, she figured she'd been out for a while. Therefore, no more lazing in bed playing the invalid. There were things to be done and questions to be answered. How they would be answered was a mystery, but nothing would be accomplished by lying on her insanely comfortable mattress.

Moving quickly to her drawers, she pulled out a pair of comfy pants with a keyboard down the side and slipped them on. They were slightly more appropriate for possible company than boy brief undies. She hoped to a higher power that it had been her mother who got her ready for bed. The Octavian Heights fitted t-shirt would do. Now to look in the mirror.

Astaire frowned a little as she looked at her reflection. She looked sickly and a little pale. Her hair was a mess and there were circles under her usually vibrant eyes. Brushing and combing her hair, however, seemed to be the only immediately correctable problem, so that's what she did.

Five minutes later, she opened the door to her room and walked out into the hallway. There were pictures of her as a child everywhere, in dance costumes and jumpers, Christmas dresses and play-clothes. She sighed. Things were simpler back then. Stupid powers. Stupid Ipswich. Why did things have to get so complicated?

"What was that thing she chased after?" Tyler asked Pogue. The Sons were downstairs in the Montgomery kitchen, eating breakfast and talking about that night. That's all they had talked about since it happened. Once a friend almost dies and the threat isn't gone, topics like sports or hot girls became trivial.

"I don't know," Pogue answered, "It was huge, like a giant…thing or something. It definitely looked paranormal."

"Duh," Reid interjected, "It's not normal for a 'giant thing' to be running around after little girls."

"I mean it didn't have a human shape, jackass," Pogue snapped. "It was definitely a large animal. My best bet would be a wolf."

" A wolf? That's different. I don't remember the Book of Damnation mentioning anything about cursing people using wolves." Caleb swallowed some of his orange juice. "This makes less and less sense the more we think about it."

"Maybe this isn't strictly a 'Covenant' thing." Tyler suggested.

Three pairs of eyes looked at him with varying reactions.

"It doesn't seem relevant if it doesn't have to do with the Covenant. It's not as if Astaire can will her powers to anyone, so any power hungry person would logically go after us."

"But Baby Boy is right. The focus has been way too much on Astaire and not on us. I mean, she was having freaky dreams before you guys even got back together, right Pogue? "

The longhaired teen nodded.

"Yeah. So I guess I can see why it's not really connected to us. But still, my gut tells me it's a lot more complicated than we can guess."

And with that, the boys sat silently to worry about what would come.

Hope you guys enjoyed!