Disclaimer: I don't own Daughters of the Moon, nor the Sons of the Dark. I don't own Stanton (that would be too amazing). All I own is that cardboard box in your backyard.
Summary: Vanessa, Catty, Jimena and Serena are in grieving for Tianna, but they don't have time to mourn when a new friend is stalked by Regulators, and a run in with Catty's ex, Kyle, and his friends, the Sons of the Dark doesn't improve much. In between book 12 of Daughters and through book 4 of Sons. R & r, first fic. Flames will be used to commit arson.
The boy walked quickly towards the cemetery, fear of being discovered scraping his throat; he couldn't scream even if he wanted to. He passed a hand through his chin-length blonde hair, brown eyes dark with worry. He was damning himself for being 'such a good guy.' For once, he should have stayed and drunk with the band. For once! He could have even gone home, Kyle and Berto were probably over their fight by now. Damn his power. If he had a power like Samuel's totem animals, then, maybe he wouldn't be in this predicament. What could he do? Just cast spells that never stayed, with a bunch of stupid rune stones. Salvation! He finally spotted the cemetery, just ahead, and he could hear the gaining speed of the Regulators behind him, too. He could, of course, just change into shadow, but his pursuers weren't absolutely sure he was the one they were after. If he changed, that would just be a sure fire clue. Instead, he kept up the brisk pace until he had closed the cemetery gates behind him. He heard their muttered curses, and was gratified; they could not reach him there, not like this. He began walking towards the center of the cemetery, figuring the farther in he was the better.
Ry wasn't alone now, she knew that much. She listened hard. Yes, there was a sound of Followers at the cemetery gates. Followers, by the noise; but tall, sluggish and slow. She jumped down from her seat on the statue and gracefully hid behind it. Listening for a few moments, their whispered speech finally became silent, and she judged it would be safe to come out again. She watched over her shoulder as she went around the statue, but unfortunately, the person who crashed into her was looking behind too.
"Whoa!" The person she collided fell on his back to the ground and she fell on top of him. She looked at the person beneath her. Curious, warm brown eyes stared up into hers, and she blushed, because this blonde haired guy was a ten on a scale of one to five.
She rolled off him, blushing like crazy. "Hi."
The guy sat up, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Hey," he answered. "That was some fall. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. You took the worst of it, though. Bruises, broken bones?"
He shook his head. "I'm good. I'm Omer, by the way. But everyone calls me Obie."
Ry blushed again, chiding herself for being so stupid. "Ryelle. Call me Ry." He smiled at her, and her heart turned into sticky molasses. What was happening? She had never felt this way before. She could go inside his mind, but that would be invading, and he was just a normal guy.
"What are you doing here on a Saturday night, Ry? Most girls I know would be partying. Or are you an angel and fell out of the sky?"
She laughed. "I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here, Obie?"
His eyes lit up. "I asked you first."
Her heartbeat quickened. Was he flirting with her? "All right, fine. I was hanging out with my friends and someone I really don't like showed up. So I bailed." She shrugged, as if fleeing to a graveyard was what everyone would do. She looked at him pointedly.
"Okay, okay. I live with three of my friends, and two of them got into a fight, again. I was tired of listening so I left."
"Sounds like we have the same kind of friends," she said, leaning against the statue. Obie chuckled, but then his eyes went round as if he had seen someone. Ry felt a burning sensation from her moon amulet, still hidden beneath her top. Followers.
"Obie?" Ry asked, frightened. "What is it?"
"Ssh!" he jerked her to the ground, and put his hand over her mouth. "Be still. Be very, very quiet." She looked at him, her large eyes questioning. "There's someone out there," he explained, pulling her behind the statue. "They're after me, but they'll catch you too, if you don't escape. Some guys I pissed off at school. When I say now, run, run and don't look back."
"I don't think these are school kids." She said, realizing that Obie was just bait, designed to draw her from her hiding place.
"I'll be fine, just run." Footsteps, soft and silky on the summer grass grew louder.
Voices, serpentine and ominous spilt the heavy air. "I tell you, he's not here, Magnus. We've searched this space before. And he would have escaped by now anyway."
"Be quiet, you fool," a new voice spat. "I know he's here and if you'll just shut up, we'll find him." The voices stopped and the sound of feet walking away faded to nothing.
Him? So they are looking for Obie. "I think they're gone," Ry whispered aloud.
"Or not," a voice said from above her. She looked up, terrified. She saw a man aged perhaps twenty-five, normal enough, except for the fact that every hair was in place, clothes neatly pressed and every wrinkle smooth. He was perfect. Too perfect, and the way he was smiling at her made her blood run cold.
"Now!" shouted Obie from beside her. "Run, Ry! Run!" She pushed the man away and ran for the gates, her heart beating faster and faster. She might have gotten away, if she hadn't tripped over a tree root. She fell to the ground loudly, and someone yanked her up by the wrist. It was the first voice, and the owner had brown hair and menacing green eyes. The air around them crackled with static electricity. What kind of Follower was this? She closed her eyes and struggled, knowing better than to look in a Follower's eyes.
"Look at me," he commanded, as much in her mind as in the air. The force of the thought was extremely painful, more powerful than any of the Immortals she had faced. She had no choice but to stare into the black depths of his eyes.