Chapter 1
Felicity's P.O.V.
Grrrr. My stomach rumbled for the thousandth time in the last hour and I howled along with it, just to sound obnoxious to the innocent passerby. Not one of them stopped to give me, the moaning, hungry kid any money, though. Douchebags.
It was unsurprising, though. New Yorkers, from what I learned over the years, only saw what was right in front of their nose and couldn't care about much else besides themselves. I was probably a fairly good example of that.
Some poor little soul decided he wanted to use my bench (which had been my bed for the week) to sit. He hauled himself up and wisely scooted over to the end where I couldn't kick him off. He stared at me with enormous saucers of eyes.
"Hey, kid, got any money?" I asked him hopefully. He shook his head vigorously, his golden blond hair flopping over his face. "Ugh, people are so unhelpful." He still kept on looking at me like I was a really fascinating exhibit in his favorite museum. "That includes you, ya know."
I'm pretty sure that scared him because he startled to scramble off the bench to where his mother stood talking on the phone a few meters away. "Hey, no, wait, you're my only source of entertainment!" He appraised me fearfully. "Come back, I don't wanna be," I broke into song, "allllll byyyyy myyyyself!" He scuttled away and I grinned at my success.
Reverse psychology works like a charm. That was my favorite way to scare people off, but having an avid conversation with oneself does wonders as well. Their horrified expressions were priceless.
I stretched out and scanned the busy streets for any particularly vulnerable people to prey on. Everyone was moving so fast, as usual, it was difficult to pick out an individual. "C'mon, fishies," I muttered under my breath. "Who wants some bait?"
Then I saw him, my prey! He was a boy of about my age, maybe a little older. He had light copper hair that gleamed in the harsh sunlight like a shiny new penny. He was good-looking enough, but that's not what I was focusing on. No, all I zoned in on was the stack of money he was pulling out of his pocket in front of a music store.
Maybe this idiot hadn't ever been to New York, but it wasn't too smart to whip out the money before he went into the store. I silently left my seat and blended in with the crowd, slowly but steadily making my way over to him like a serpent sneaking up on a defenseless little mouse.
The ignorant kid was busy counting his bills and I smirked at how easy this was going to be. In a burst of speed, I charged at him like an angry bull seeing red and knocked him hard to the ground. I snatched his money and was halfway down the block before he could even blink.
Kynan P.O.V.
That little twerp stole my money. She freaking stole my money! I'd been saving up for three weeks to get this CD, and now this little brat had interrupted my plans.
"Oi! Get back here!" I bellowed, tearing into pursuit. My jacket, tied around my waist, was flapping behind me, creating air resistance which was slowing me down. Hurriedly I whipped it off, and kept running.
Damn, this kid's fast, I thought. I could be pretty quick when I felt like it, but I hadn't had a proper chase like this in months. With the New York traffic, it was hard to keep close enough to the culprit to still see her. Between passing pedestrians, I caught glimpses of long, black hair streaked with blue or green, and guessed that she was around my age.
Luckily, the girl got caught at a "Do Not Walk" sign. No one in their right mind would cross a New York street without having the right of way, so she was stuck waiting at the crosswalk, giving me a fighting chance to catch up.
"Hey, why'd you take my-" I tried to demand, reaching out to grab her sleeve when I was close enough. She reacted defensively and I was cut off by a swift uppercut which landed just above my left eye. The "Walk" light chose that moment to come on. As I was trying to clear my vision enough to run in a straight line, the girl continued, sprinting across the street. I swear, when I catch up to her. . . .
The chase continued another half a block before the girl turned a corner, and disappeared. I followed, only to find construction materials blocking their path. I smirked. If she wasn't insane enough to brave the traffic, she definitely wasn't wild enough to run through a construction zone, complete with manholes and caution tape.
"Looks like you're stuck now, huh?" I taunted her, taking my time in approaching her. He could see the two twenty dollar bills she'd snatched from him still clutched in her right hand. I have to get those back. For Mom.
"Yeah. But I've still got your money, so I'm not too worried." She sounded far too shameless for my liking but I could hear the ever so faint tremble in her tone. But she was too brazen to back off now.
"Not for long. I'm only going to ask this once. Please give it back, and I promise I'll let you go. I won't tell the police or anything." I tried to sound reassuring, but internally I was panicking. I really needed that money back. And I didn't want to take it back by force.
"Your offer is tempting, it really is, but I think I'll hang onto it. Besides, you sure don't look like you need it," the girl pointed out, gesturing to my clothes. Everything I wore was designer something-or-other from last year's catalogs. But of course, all she saw was no rips and decent fabrics, not the labels and price tags I saw whenever I examined them. Oh how I wished I'd been able to get out of these clothes and into something more plain.
"You've got no idea what that money's for. Or how important it is," I spat bitterly, glaring at my shoes and trying to shove the memories of my mother to the back of my mind, where they didn't hurt quite so much.
"Well, I could do with a decent meal, so your fancy new shoes can wait," she replied with a sweet smile that almost counteracted the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"I wasn't buying shoes," I snapped, beginning to get irritated- well, more so.
"Oh, sorry. What was it this time, a new watch? Maybe a new cologne?" she continued to tantalize me. I gritted my teeth.
"It was my mom's CD." I hated that I even had to tell her this little tidbit of information; there was absolutely no reason I had to justify myself.
"Oh! That's really funny. The son of a recording artist can't bear to part with forty bucks because he wants to buy a copy of his mommy's CD," she laughed, seeming almost giddy. "Mommy can't give you a free copy?" In one swift motion, I lunged forward and threw a hard punch to her gut while her guard was down from laughing. How dare she? She visibly flinched then blinked away the pain.
"Give me back my cash. You don't know anything about me, so don't go making assumptions about my life," I growled, our faces inches apart- mine seething with anger, hers glowing with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
"Why don't you quit talkin' and make me?" She grinned humorlessly, and stomped on my foot, hard. Strange, she was actively trying to goad me into a fight.
"Ouch, you've really wounded my pride, sweetheart. Truly, I thought we had something going here. I didn't want it to have to come to this, but you've forced my hand," I mused, staring dolefully into her eyes. I hated playing this card, but sometimes I could flirt my way out of a sticky situation.
"You . . . Sweetheart? What the hell?" she shouted in exasperation, leaning away from me. Gods, I hate doing this, I thought as I stepped forward and cupped her cheek with one hand. I was surprised to see her raise her hand to slap me away, then hesitate.
"Really, I'd hate to be so cruel to such a pretty girl. I'm sure we could make some sort of arrangement, though. I get my money, you get, well, me," I bartered, my voice low. Years in show business had taught me how to seduce and do it quickly.
"What are you, a prostitute?" the girl shrieked. With that, she grabbed my wrist and judo-flipped me. I landed on my back on the concrete with a painful thud. Dang, that tactic has never failed me before. I'd hate to admit I'm impressed, but . . .
Felicity's P.O.V.
The boy lay groaning on the concrete and I waited impatiently for him to rise again. This wasn't just about the money anymore, I loved a good fight and I was damn sure he could deliver.
"Today, maybe?" I quipped as he struggled to his feet. "Soliciting sex is illegal in the state of New York, you know. And nearly everywhere else."
"Trust me, I wasn't about to have sex with a girl like you!" he snapped, rubbing ruefully at his likely aching back.
I feigned offense. "You hurt me," I pointed right at my heart, "right here. But I'm actually quite relieved . . . sweetheart." His eyes narrowed as I threw his sardonic term of endearment right back in his face.
His brown eyes darkened a few shades and he growled, "I'm done playing. Give me back my money or you'll regret it. I was being honest when I said I didn't want to hurt a pretty face, but I'm not afraid to squash you like a bug."
"You mean I haven't been regretting it already?" I pretended to look shocked.
He scowled at me so hard I concluded that if he were wearing boots, he would actually attempt to stomp on me. "Do you try to be obnoxious or does it just come naturally to you?"
"It's a talent," I informed him dryly, a smirk playing at my lips. "I'm very skilled in the art. Oscar-worthy, in fact."
"Ya-huh. Who's talking too much now?" The boy threw his head back in a quick laugh, his copper hair rippling like a lion's mane. Tossing his backpack to the side, he swung his arms in a circle and studied me as if sizing up whether I'd taste better raw or cooked with a side of BBQ sauce. BBQ sauce was always the way to go, but I wasn't about to tell him that.
I flung my backpack (full of my only possessions) to the side as well and stretched out my shoulders. "Bro, I've been waiting for you to attack for like a million years now. Seriously, anytime now. I'm literally mailing you an invitation." When he still didn't make any aggressive movements, I continued, "Tick tock, I've got things to do."
The boy laughed again, high and wild. "You've forgotten something."
I was admittedly curious but I worked to keep my expression flawlessly impassive. "Yeah? And what might that be, sweetheart?"
"You're the one standing at the edge of a construction zone, just a few steps away from an open manhole or two. Whereas I've got the entire city at my back." The boy smiled coldly, holding his arms out as if he owned all of New York City and simply saw this as a minor annoyance, a slight blemish on the skin of his valiant city. Even though New York was anything but valiant, and I certainly wouldn't have been its first blemish.
Yes, he liked to think he had the upper hand. Well, his efforts are respectable, I thought. Arching an eyebrow, I inched forward and grinned back. "You see, I might know nothing about you, but I'm afraid you know equally little about me. So, you just don't quite grasp that I'm an excellent escape artist." The last word had barely left my mouth before I leapt into action and blew past him, beginning the game of cat and mouse once more.
I laughed recklessly, the bell-like tone carrying in the wind as I sprinted with an extra burst of speed to push me forward. He was hot on my heels but that only added to my enjoyment; it was more exciting, more thrilling this way! He'd never catch me, of course, but the chase was always fun.
Planning out an escape route in my head (I knew this area like the back of my hand), I planted my feet and abruptly changed direction into the nearest alley, breaking his ankles, so to speak.
"Catch me if you can, sweetheart!" I called playfully over my shoulder, really milking the whole "sweetheart" debacle. I then directed my full attention to the tall, chain-link fence that I was approaching rapidly.
His puffing of breath proved as my only answer besides, "My name's Kynan!" and I began to haul my nimble form over the fence, flipping myself over with a show of unusual strength. Unfortunately, it didn't go quite as planned. I landed gracefully on my feet, but I had hardly a second to catch my breath when he fell right on top of me.
We toppled over with simultaneous cries of pain. "What were you saying there, sweetheart?" he asked huskily, his panting breath hot on my ear. He was splayed out on top of me and it set me entirely on edge.
"This!" I yelled, kneeing him right in the place where he most certainly did not want to be kneed. He yelped and I shoved him off to me, scrambling to my feet to start up in another run.
I didn't get very far before I felt his hand yank my arm backwards and stop me in my tracks. With the added momentum, I threw back a fist and let it connect against his cheekbone. He grunted, and wasted no time in returning the blow.
Pain spread across my cheek like wildfire and it fueled my anger like gasoline. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"
Kynan's eyes locked onto mine, caught somewhere between disbelief and anger, and his voice wavered into what nearly became a shout of, "You still have my money, punk!"
I had actually kind of forgotten that part. "Oh yeah. . . ." I swerved a punch aimed for my side and crouched down to sweep out his legs. He side-stepped me quite elegantly and kicked me sharply in the ribs.
As I jumped to my feet, he aggressively shoved me into the alley wall and I pushed him back, just as hard. "This is turning into a deadlock," he sighed, backing off and allowing us both to take a breather.
"Well, actually, I do believe I'm winning-" Something slimy and indescribably gross splattered all over me and my eyebrows skyrocketed into my hairline. It burned.
"What the hell?" I cried, hopping around to try and rid myself of the stinging substance. "Ow! What is this, acid?! That's not fair, you fight dirtier than I do!"
He fiercely shook his head, fearfully staring at something behind me. "I fight in a lot of different ways, but not dirty. Never that."
"Then what-"
He tentatively lifted a hand and pointed wildly over my shoulder. "Look behind you!"
I spun around on my heel to glower at the person behind me, admonishing, "Excuse me, this is a private conversation- oh crappola!" Whatever that thing was, it most certainly was not humanoid in any way, shape, or form. It looked like a dragon, I guess, but it didn't have any wings or legs. So, more like a snake. A really, really big snake. It slithered toward us gradually, just biding its time.
An abrupt alliance suddenly forming between us, we slowly backed away from the snarling creature. My back met with the chain-link face and my heartbeat quickened; we were trapped, and I sure as hell didn't appreciate that. "What do you want from us?" I shouted as bravely as I could muster, my knees shaking beneath me.
"I don't think it can talk," Kynan murmured thoughtfully, observing it in close detail. I dropped to a squatting position and groped around for anything (anything!) that could help me. All I found was a decently sized rock with a rough, uneven edge. I stood up and gripped it threateningly.
Kynan shot me a derisive look. "Really, a rock? Yeah, that'll help."
"I'm sorry, I don't think one who has absolutely zilch in the weapons department can scoff at me!"
He dove forward and snatched up a Coke bottle, slamming it against the bricks of the alley wall so the edges were jagged. "Who's got nothing now, huh?"
"Really, a Coke bottle?" Now it was my turn to scorn. "How're you going to hurt it? With some free advertising? Y'know, better than Pepsi!"
"Hilarious, but I think we've got bigger issues." Shattered Coke bottle in hand, Kynan stared ahead at the beast blocking our escape from the alleyway (that is, unless we wanted to try our luck with the fence again) as if he were sizing it up, figuring out how best to defeat it.
I studied it more closely. It was enormous. Easily the size of a garbage disposal truck, yet still slender enough to fit into the alleyway, it looked like a massive jet black snake with huge fangs that were dripping what seemed to be acid.
Its head began to weave around like it was choking something and then it spewed out massive amounts of fire. Kynan and I, ducked and rolled forward to escape the crackling flames, but the fence wasn't so lucky. It was melted silvery goo by now.
"Run!" Kynan bellowed and I did not need any more encouragement. I leapt over the vibrant orange tendrils like they were a hurdle in a track event and was pleasantly surprised to come out unscathed. Track and field was not my forte.
The beast twisted after us and it was fast, far too fast for us to be able to make it out of the alley in time. Deciding to use my last resort, I twisted around in mid-air and tossed the rock with all my might at its gruesome head just as Kynan chucked the remains of the Coke bottle. Unsurprisingly, it bounced harmlessly off its gleaming scales.
"We're boned!" I shouted, dodging another blast of radiating heat from the fire-breathing snake thing.
"What's your name?!" he yelled back. The end of the alley was close, wonderfully close, but not close enough.
"Random, much?"
"Just tell me your damn name!"
"Felicity, but you can call me Lissie!" Might as well be nice if we were about to meet an ugly demise.
"All right, Lissie, sweetheart, it's been an honor serving with you!" he said courteously, tipping an invisible hat like a right gentleman.
Something occurred to me and I fished his money out of my jean pocket. "Here, you can have your money back now!" I shoved it to him and he actually did take it, stuffing it in his pocket.
"Thanks, I guess!"
Twenty-five feet to the end, twenty, fifteen . . . Hope flickered up inside me that we actually might make it, but when I glanced over my shoulder my heart skipped a beat once I saw how close it was to us. It spat out more acid right in front of where Kynan's right foot landed; his foot slid forward and he lost balance, bringing me down with him.
I landed with a thud that shot pain through my entire body, but all I could do was gape as the gigantic creature loomed over us. For some reason I could never begin to understand right then, I clutched onto Kynan's hand as the fearsome beast opened up its mouth. He squeezed my hand and I his.
A vibrant flare of orange burst from the beast's mouth and I shut my eyes so I wouldn't have to see us engulfed in the flames.
Rory's A/N: I love cliffhangers. Writing them, not reading them, sorry. I'm sorry. We're sorry. Kind of. Thanks for reading. :)