"Oh,"the girl said, shaking her head. "Don't be so simple. People adore monsters. They fill their songs and stories with them. They define themselves in relation to them. You know what a monster is, young shade? Power. Power and choice. Monsters make choices. Monsters shape the world. Monsters force us to become stronger, smarter, better. They sift the weak from the strong and provide a forge for the steeling of souls. Even as we curse monsters, we admire them. Seek to become them, in some ways." Her eyes became distant. "There are far, far worse things to be than a monster."
―Jim Butcher, Ghost Story
Chapter Two
Anna tapped the end of her pencil against her cheek as she stared down at the picture she had drawn. Two boys fought on the piece of paper, the only colour beings their eyes; one brilliantly green, the other dark gold. The green eyed one crouched above golden eyes, mouth pulled into a vicious snarl as his clawed hand reared back, ready to strike. It was almost lifelike, the detail and shading adding an air of vitality to the golden eyed boy's struggle and enhancing green eyes' inhuman anger.
It was an almost perfect imitation of the events of the night before. Many more drawings were scattered on the table in front of her; Isabelle in her flowing white dress, Alec with his suspicious eyes and disapproving frown, and Jace with his sharp grin and arrogant poise. By virtue of her eidetic memory she was able to replicate each moment of last night, whilst she tried to figure out how to learn more about this world she had only caught a glimpse of.
When Simon had arrived she'd had no choice but to leave, despite her curiosity trying to drag her back to the storage room and its demon-killing inhabitants. Frustration had made her harsh when Simon expressed his annoyance, and he quickly shut up when she turned a glare on him. She would apologise to the boy later; he was her friend, no matter how bad his timing was, and she preferred him happy over sullen and gloomy. She knew from experience that it wouldn't be too difficult to appease him, since Simon didn't seem to be able to hold a grudge against her for very long.
Her mind drifted back to what she had learnt last night. Demons, warlocks, vampires. It all seemed so impossible in the light of day, so far away. But she knew what she had seen, had detected no hint of a lie or mockery when the blond boy had questioned her about the other creatures. She'd spent a few hours attempting to find any concrete evidence on the internet, but most of what she'd come up with were romance books – which had made her shudder – and Hollywood movies. The myths and legends she'd researched were rather interesting, though she highly doubted the accuracy of them, considering the amount of variance.
The real problem was finding one of the teenagers for her to find more information from. They obviously knew a lot, and though the siblings obviously didn't want her to know anything, Jace seemed quite eager in his passing on of facts. She'd hardly had to prompt him at all; perhaps he liked the sound of his own voice too much, and she was but a willing audience?
Smirking at the thought Anna picked up her mobile and scrolled through her list of contacts until she found Simon's number, and hit call. She may as well apologise for her short attitude last night, before he had time to stew. Besides, she needed a distraction; she'd been thinking about last night all day.
The phone didn't ring for long before it was answered. "What's up, Anna?" Simon said stiffly. She could hear the sounds of people chatting in the background, and remembered him mentioning that today he was practising with his band.
"I'm sorry about last night; I wasn't feeling very well." Her apology wasn't exactly sincere, and the lie slipped from her tongue with a casual ease. She was a good liar.
"Oh. Well, you could've said so," he said, sounding surprised. Anna didn't get ill very often. Or at all, really. His next sentence was concerned, "Are you okay now?"
"I'm fine, it passed after I got some sleep." Another lie. She hadn't slept at all, her mind buzzing with too many thoughts to allow her to sleep.
"That's good, I guess," he replied unsurely. "Uh, d'you want to hang out today then, since last night was cut short? Eric has his poetry thing today, and I could do with a little moral support. Or, you know, someone to make sure I don't run away screaming."
Anna frowned an leant back in her chair. Whilst she didn't particularly want to listen to Eric's strange imitation of poetry, she was rather bored, and - as low a chance that it was – she was more likely to run into one of the teenagers from last night outside her house. "All right. You may have to help convince Jocelyn to let me go, though. I seemed to have been re-designated to 'bane of her existence'."
"Was she that angry you got in late? It's not like it was your fault there was traffic!"
"She doesn't see it that way. I can always sneak out of my window if I need to, but I'd rather not antagonise her further. She does buy my art supplies, after all." Anna didn't bother to bring up the fact that she would've gladly gotten a job if it wasn't for Jocelyn's insistence that she didn't need one yet. She would've gone ahead and gotten one anyway if it weren't for the fact that they'd need a home address and number, and so might accidentally alert Jocelyn and incur her wrath.
"Sure, I'll head over now," Simon agreed readily enough. "See you soon."
"Bye."
Anna slipped on her jacket and placed the phone in her pocket, then stepped into her trainers and laced them up before entering the living room. Jocelyn shared her interest in art – perhaps the only thing that they had in common – and it was evident in the hand-made pillows on the red sofa, and the many paintings that hung on the walls. None were as dark of morbid as Anna's had the tendency to be. They were mostly landscapes; scenes of Prospect Park in the different seasons, the Manhattan skyline, all of them beautiful in their brightness and intricacy. There were no man-made angels to be found in her Jocelyn's art.
Above the mantel over the fireplace a framed photo of Jocelyn's deceased husband sat, looking thoughtful in his military dress. Anna had never been able to associate the man in the photo with the title 'Father', not when she had neither met the man nor cared for him. He was dead, little more than a stranger who happened to share half of her genetic code. When she was younger she'd said this to Jocelyn, and the woman had looked torn between crying and smiling. She could be odd like that sometimes.
Anna sat down on the sofa, half-hoping that Simon would arrive before Jocelyn came home so she could leave without the inevitable argument. But as tempting as the idea was she knew the woman would just be even angrier if she sent a text or left a note. Best to get it over with, no matter how much it annoyed her to be so restricted by anyone. She prided herself on her independence, so Jocelyn's fussy attitude agitated her. Many of her rules and worries made no sense to the teenager, and she was used to sneaking out in a deliberate undermining of Jocelyn's authority. She was familiar with her mother's anger when she was caught, and had long since stopped caring. Perhaps if Jocelyn ever explained why Anna wasn't allowed to do certain things, then she might actually listen, a fact that she'd expressed many times over the years. But each time the woman had simply clammed up. It was beyond annoying, and strained their relationship practically to it's breaking point. All it would take was a little push...
The sound of a key turning in a lock pulled Anna away from her thoughts, and she glanced over at the front door as it opened with a thump against the wall. Luke stood there, arms filled with several large squares of cardboard, and Anna remembered that Jocelyn had said she was going to Luke's house earlier that day. She'd been more interested in her drawings than her mother's words.
Luke set down the cardboard squares – boxes folded flat, she realized – and straightened with a groan, back cracking. His eyes widened behind the gold-rimmed spectacles when he saw her sitting there, and he sent her a weak smile.
Luke had been around for the majority of her life. A friend of her mother's, he'd just shown up one day at their door, and Anna had been quickly ushered away to give them privacy. She'd always been curious about what they'd said. Jocelyn almost never talked about her past, and when she did it was vague and meaningless. She never mentioned her parents, where she was brought up, her friends, anything. It was – as Jocelyn always replied – as if her life had begun when Anna had born. Anna always had to resist the urge to scoff at that. It was such a ridiculous sentiment, and thankfully after she'd expressed her disdain a few times Jocelyn had stopped saying it.
When she was younger she'd often go around to Luke's bookshop, revelling in the amount of knowledge packed into such a small place. They'd gotten along well at first, but as she'd gotten older Luke had become more distant and closed off, more...wary, almost. Sensing this she stopped visiting him, her young self hurt and almost betrayed, and started spending her time outside instead. Now she only saw him when he came to visit Jocelyn.
Sometimes...sometimes she swore that he looked at her and saw someone else entirely. And whoever that someone was, he was afraid of them.
"Hey, Anna," he greeted, drawing her out of her thoughts.
"Luke," she nodded, watching the flash of emotion that flickered across his face as he eyes lost focus. She'd reminded him of something, and by his expression it wasn't a pleasant memory. "What are the boxes for?"
He looked away from her face, a hand coming up to scratch his cheek in what she'd learnt was Luke's nervous gesture – his tell. "Your mother wanted to pack up some things. She's parking the truck now."
Anna's eyes narrowed and she rose to her feet. "What sort of things?"
He glanced back at her, that same reminiscence passing over his expression before he said hastily, "Extra stuff lying around the house. Getting in the way. You know she never throws anything out. So, how've you been lately?" he asked in a clear attempt at distraction as he walked over to the hearth.
Deciding to oblige him – for now – she answered flatly, "I've been fine."
"That's good, I guess." Luke started rummaging through the tool kit set beside the hearth. After a few moments he pulled out an orange plastic tape gun with a murmured, "Here it is."
Anna considered him, running all the information she had on the man through her mind but looking at it in a new light, one brought on by the events of the night before. On the surface he was a mild-mannered middle-aged man, though surprisingly fit for his age. There was nothing about him to truly cause suspicion that was not purely paranoia. But she couldn't dismiss anything, not when she now knew how blind she'd been. Perhaps it was time for a shot in the dark...
"I've been researching werewolf mythology recently," she began, narrowed eyes alike to a predator watching its prey as Luke stiffened, muscles in his back tensing and his breathing coming to an abrupt stop. Surprise tinged her triumph at having hit the mark; she hadn't really been expecting any sort of reaction, having only picked up on the fact that Luke tended to look noticeably worn the day after the full moon, and though he often stayed over at the apartment when she was younger it'd never been on that night.
So Luke was a werewolf, then, or at least some sort of supernatural creature? It irritated her that the fact had escaped her notice for so long; she should've realised there was something off about him, even if the man didn't exactly declare it with his words or behaviour. She was supposed to be intelligent; she shouldn't have let something so important slip passed her, and from someone who she saw so often, at that! How could she have been so ignorant? Her anger at herself showed in the sharp edge her words took. "You wouldn't happen to have any books on the subject?"
Luke, still facing away from her, was saved from having to answer by the door opening once again. Booted heels clacking against the floor, Jocelyn Fray entered the apartment and headed over to Luke, passing him a set of car keys with a smile which faltered slightly when she saw his shaken state. A question was in her expression before she caught sight of her daughter, a mixture of surprise, understanding and something Anna couldn't quite catch flashing across her face. She knows about Luke, she thought in an instinctive leap of logic. It only made her all the more frustrated at her own ignorance, as well as Jocelyn's decision to keep her that way.
Green eyes a few shades lighter than Anna's met her own when Jocelyn turned to face her, dark red hair swaying in its loose knot at the motion. Despite her hiking boots Jocelyn was still slightly shorter than her daughter, due to the recent growth spurt teenagers were so prone to. They shared slender frames, fair skin and defined features, but whilst Jocelyn carried an almost porcelain doll-like facial structure, Anna's were sharper, holding a subtle edge to them not evidenced in her mother. The messy, wavy red locks of Jocelyn were contrasted by Anna's usual neat, hip-length ponytail tied high on her head, which was a pale blond nearing white. She wasn't sure where she'd inherited the colour from, since it clearly wasn't from the man on the mantel, but Jocelyn refused to answer any question she had that pertained to the woman's past. Annoying, but she'd gotten used to it.
She analysed the dark circles under her mother's eyes and the harried way she played with a loose thread on her shirt, the eyes that flickered around the room every few seconds, pausing at the exits – windows, open door to hallway, door to Jocelyn's bedroom, door to Anna's bedroom, door to the kitchen, door out of the apartment, repeat – like a cornered animal. What had made her so frantic?
"Anna," Jocelyn said almost hesitantly. She had that look on her face, and Anna almost sighed. Jocelyn shared that habit with Luke; she must've behaved in some way similar to that person again. "Aren't you usually out at this time?"
The question sounded almost accusing, and in response Anna scowled. "You grounded me, or has it slipped your mind?"
Jocelyn frowned. "Don't you take that tone with me, young lady. I've been busy today, that's all." Then she turned to Luke, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders as she gave him a weak smile that went unreturned. "Thanks for bringing the boxes up. Sorry it took me so long to find a space. There must be a million people at the park today, with the amount of cars taking up room."
"What are the boxes for?" Anna asked, suspicion flaring when Jocelyn bit her lip and looked to Luke for help. When he offered none, other than an unsure shrug, she visibly steeled herself and stepped closer to her daughter. Her expression made it seem more like she was approaching a primed bomb that was close to detonation, and Anna's own wariness rose as a result. What did she have to say, that would cause her to anticipate such a bad reaction?
"We're going on vacation for the rest of the summer," she said quickly, words rushed and slightly breathless. "Up to the farmhouse – the three of us. I need a break from the city, we all do, so I thought-"
"Why now?" Lieslieslieslies something like instinct (but not) screamed in her head. She didn't need it to know Jocelyn's reasons were false; it was in her defensive posture, in the forced eye contact and obviously rehearsed lines. But why would she lie about something so trivial, seeking to protect the truth with such vehemence? Why was she insisting that Anna remained ignorant?
Her anger at that burned cold, revealing itself in the blankness of her expression and the darkening of her eyes. Jocelyn saw that and shivered at the familiarity that rose in her; she was so similar to him, yet so different at the same time. His frost hid a violent flame, ready to burst forth when taunted, but Anna was all ice.
"I have to get away, Anna," Jocelyn replied, and there was new fear now in her face, fear that held a source other than her daughter. The teenager wondered what could induce such terror in the usually collected woman. "I need the peace, the quiet, to paint. And money is tight now-"
"If money is tight, why don't you allow me to get a job?" Anna countered. It was the option that made the most sense after all, and perhaps she would finally get an actual answer, with Jocelyn as stressed as she was. "You can go if you need the break, and I'm old enough to take care of myself-"
"No!" Jocelyn cut in fiercely, her distress spiking visibly. "We'll get by, and you are coming with us. It isn't optional. There's no way you're staying here on your own, especially not at your age. Anything could happen."
"You really have so little faith in me?" she said dryly, eyebrow raised as she watched Jocelyn flinch with those faraway eyes. It appeared that today was one where she imitated the mysterious person quite a bit. "What could happen, exactly?"
There was a crash of breaking glass and the two females turned to look at Luke, one accusing and the other startled but concerned. He'd knocked over one of the framed pictures that had hung on the wall, intentionally it seemed. Anna glared but this time Luke stared back defiantly. "I'm leaving."
"Wait," Jocelyn called as she hurried after him into the entryway. The two lingered by the door, and Anna was able to catch snippets of Jocelyn's urgent whisper. "...Bane. I've been calling him and calling him for the past three weeks. His voice mail says he's in Tanzania. What am I supposed to do?"
Luke sounded resigned when he replied, "You can't keep going to him forever, Jocelyn. You know that."
"But Anna-"
"I know, I know. But, no matter what, she isn't Jonathan. She's human, despite- look, it doesn't matter. They still aren't the same." Jonathan...her father, wasn't human? At least, that was what it sounded like. Still, she shouldn't make assumptions; misinformation was far worse than none at all.
"I can't just keep her at home, not let her go out." Anna inwardly growled at the very notion. Her freedom was already restricted; she wasn't going to let the control extend any further. "She won't put up with it."
"I can't think of a teenager who would, least of all his daughter." So Luke knew her father as well? Perhaps...was this the man she was always being compared to? The one they feared so much? Or was it hate? (Ah, but fear breeds hatred, and hatred spurs fear in an endless cycle-)
"If we were out of the city..."
"Nothing would change; not in the long run." Luke sighed, and she saw him reach for the doorknob at the edge of her peripheral vision. The door flew open before he could touch it, prompting Jocelyn to give a short scream and Luke to exclaim, "Jesus!"
Simon blinked at the startled adults as their surprise turned to embarrassment. "Actually, it's just me, although I've been told the resemblance is startling." Spotting Anna he waved at her in greeting, smiling when she returned it with a mildly amused smirk. Had he interrupted something?
Jocelyn peered up at the taller boy, dropping her hand from where it'd hovered in front of her mouth. "Simon, were you eavesdropping?"
Confused, Simon shook his head. She still looked suspicious so he said, "No, I just got here. Is something wrong?" He'd always thought Anna's mom was pretty nice in a weird, kind of distant yet overprotective way, and wondered why she seemed so stressed. It couldn't be over last night, could it? "Should I go?" He glanced to Anna for an answer, but Luke spoke up before she could.
"Don't bother, I think we're done here." he said with a significant look to Jocelyn, before he pushed passed Simon. The downstairs front door slammed shut a few seconds later, leaving the three standing awkwardly around the open doorway.
"I can come back later," Simon began, but Anna was already walking towards him, snatching the jacket she'd worn the previous night from a nearby hook and slipping it on. Her phone, wallet, and a small notebook with a pencil were already in several of the large pockets, since she hadn't bothered to take them out.
"We're going now," she said simply, ignoring Jocelyn's protests and slamming the door shut in her face with a kick from her heel as she walked away. Jocelyn obviously wasn't up to sharing, so there was no point in sticking around to hear her platitudes. Perhaps if she stayed out long enough the pressure would get to the redhead and she'd cave. For that, she had a mobile.
Simon followed her quick pace in nervous silence. He'd known Anna long enough that he could tell her moods to an extent (and likely only what she allowed him to read), and right now she was both angry and curious. Not a good combination, he decided with a wince. He swore he was gonna get frostbite if she didn't cheer up – well, as much as Anna could.
They'd just reached the bottom of the steps when the door of the downstairs tenant's psychic's shop opened. The man that stepped through distracted Anna from the situation with Jocelyn as she examined his exotic features, taking in the cat-like eyes and sharp white teeth. Something pushed at her – not a physical force, but too real to have been imagined, like something was tugging at her conscious. She glared at the surprised man through the faint dizziness, fingers twitching for something sharp.
But the man only grinned, and then he was gone. Her eyes widened and she looked around for him, but there was only herself and a bemused Simon. "What're you doing?"
Anna shook her head and continued on her course out of the building. "Nothing." Another encounter with what was obviously a non-human. Had she been surrounded by them all her life, and just been blind to them? It was almost insulting.
A few minutes later the two teenagers arrived at Java Jones, the small café surprisingly crowded for a Monday. Anna was rather dubious about acclaiming that to the boy swaying behind the microphone, eye scrunched closed and the tips of his hair dyed pink. They were probably here for the coffee, she decided as she looked around for a seat whilst Simon got the drinks, spotting one near the back. It was suitably isolated, since there was only one other person nearby, and the girl seemed more interested in her iPod than trying to chat. Anna wasn't really in the socialising mood, and was far more liable to make the girl burst into tears than put up with inane chatter.
This was quickly put to the test when the blond tapped Anna on the shoulder moments after she'd sat down. With an inward sigh she directed a flat stare at the girl, but she wasn't put off. "Excuse me, but is that your boyfriend?"
"No," the paler blond answered – she didn't have one at all, what else would she say? - before following the girl's line of sight to see that she'd been talking about Simon. The dark-haired boy was headed towards them, cups of coffee held carefully in his hands.
"He's cute," iPod girl looked very happy with her answer. "Does he have a girlfriend?"
Anna refrained from pinching the bridge of her nose. Granted, this was the first time she'd seen a girl express interest in Simon, but did it really have to go through her? Was it so difficult to just go up to the boy instead of asking someone else about him? "No."
"Is he gay?" Now she looked slightly suspicious, and a little disappointed.
"Not to my knowledge," she said honestly. Simon had never really been too interested in either gender, not having had a girlfriend or boyfriend in the years she'd known him. She had seen him looking at certain parts of the female anatomy before, so she was reasonably certain he was straight, but she was hardly a relationship expert.
The nosy blond opened her mouth, but Simon arrived at the table, staving off any further questions as she quickly turned back to her own table. He set the Styrofoam cups down quickly but carefully so he didn't spill any of the coffee, before dropping down into the seat beside Anna. Shaking his hands out he grumbled, "I hate it when they run out of mugs. Those things are hot."
Anna hummed as she reached out for the nearest cup and place it to her mouth, swallowing a few gulps of the dark liquid. She enjoyed the burn it sent down the back of her throat to pool heatedly in her stomach, ignoring Simon's incredulous stare.
"I still don't get how you can do that," he commented, blowing on his own coffee in an effort to cool it.
Anna spared him a languid smile, content with the rich taste of her favourite drink on her tongue. "Trade secret."
A faint blush spread across Simon's cheeks, to the blond girl's confusion. "Uh, I kinda wanted to talk to you about-"
A burst of feedback shrieked through the café, causing everyone to clap their hands over their ears (though Anna made sure to ensure the safety of her coffee first, placing it gently on the table with the care one might spare to a newborn or a prized jewel) and glare at the boys on stage.
Eric finally got his microphone set back up in the appropriate position, grinning out at the annoyed crowd. "Sorry about that, guys! All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums." The bleary-eyed boy waved a hand absently. "My first poem is called 'Untitled'." Then he was wailing, face scrunched up in agony, "'Come, my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!'"
Simon sunk down into his eat, expression miserable as he begged, "Please don't tell anyone I know him."
Anna tilted her head, wondering aloud, "Did he just get a thesaurus and switch out every other word?"
"'Turgid is my torment! Agony swells within!'"
"I think I can relate to that," Simon said, before nudging Anna who blinked at him. He gulped nervously beneath her curious stare, her eyes appearing almost black in the darkened corner. A large part of him was telling him to keep quiet, because Anna was Anna and could he really see her being interested in someone romantically? But she was his best friend too, and he knew she'd pick up on how he felt about her eventually. It was better for him to tell her, than for her to figure it out, which would no doubt be infinitely embarrassing.
"You know, I'm the only guy in the band without a girlfriend." Okay, that wasn't a good start. Still, progress was progress!
"Do you want one?" Anna asked, and Simon swore his heart stopped beating.
"Y-yeah."
Anna caught a glimpse of the iPod girl glancing over at Simon, and remembered the short conversation. "That girl thinks you're, I quote, 'cute'. She'd probably be your girlfriend if you asked."
Simon felt like slamming his head on the table. Anna may be freaky smart, but she could be the most oblivious person he'd ever met. "I don't think it'd really be fair to her if I did..."
"Hm?"
Simon took in a deep breath, hands twisting the fabric of his shirt and eyes darting over Anna's inquiring features. She looks really pretty today, he thought in that dreamy way he'd been sinking into since he first realised that Anna was a girl, not just a boy with a bit of extra padding in certain places and less in others,and a cute one at that, before he shook himself out of it. Now was not the time to be getting distracted! "I like someone else."
"Someone I know?" Simon was her friend, after all. If he was going to get a girlfriend she'd have to be up to Anna's standards, and she wouldn't have them monopolising Simon. Perhaps they could work out a time share...
A cough interrupted her thoughts, the sound rather like whoever made it was trying hard not to laugh. She turned towards the noise, and froze when she saw Jace smirking from atop a green sofa a few feet away. Infuriating as it was that she hadn't realised he was there until he made himself known – Jace was an unknown factor, and therefore a dangerous one – she supposed this saved her the trouble of attempting to track him or the siblings down.
He wore the same dark clothes as he had the night before, but in place of the scrawling black marks his arms were covered in thin lines of scarred skin. They were too intricate to not have been done purposely, winding across his skin in twisting designs that urged her to examine them. Unfortunately she was not given a chance to do so, as Jace, seeing that he had caught her attention, casually moved to his feet with a wave. Her eyes narrowed at the motion, something the boy noticed if his widening grin was anything to go by, and Jace walked towards the exit without even a glance back. But from his unhurried strides and deliberate actions of gaining her attention it was obvious that he intended for her to follow him.
But why? That was the important question, one which the answer would dictate her actions from here on out. She was no demon, so she couldn't be the object of such a hunt as the night before. Neither did she know anything about demons, so he couldn't want her for information. Perhaps he and whatever organisation he worked for – he, Isabelle and Alec were only teenagers after all, so it was far more likely that they had been trained as part of a group rather than learning by themselves – were suspicious of her?
Recounting the night before, she could find no valid reason for it. On her part she'd played the role of an innocent civilian to a tee - albeit a curious and open-minded one – who'd merely caught a glimpse of the world Jace and the others inhabited. All right, perhaps some of her responses could be seen as mildly threatening, but nothing that should interest them; people who fought demons on an apparently regular basis. In their eyes Anna was nothing more than an ordinary teenage girl – they couldn't read her mind, as far as she knew – who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She would understand better if it was Isabelle or Alec come after her alone, as they had hardly been pleased that she'd (supposedly) put Jace in danger, and so a personal vendetta would fit their profile. With Jace it was another case entirely. He hadn't seemed to bare any grudge against her, showing minimal aggravation at her presence in comparison to his companions, and had answered several of her questions with little hesitance, showing a mild establishment of trust on his part. Or that the information itself was worthless – either way, it didn't paint Jace as someone who would come after her due to a negative emotional reaction.
A mission? If there was indeed an organisation, just the fact that she knew of them was a risk, should they be a secretive one. Jace's casual exchange of information counteracted that theory, but the reactions of the dark-haired siblings supported it, as they had been annoyed, if not angry when Jace answered her queries. Had Jace been sent to eliminate her? He could be covering up his hostility in an attempt to lead her away to some isolated area, and then dispose of her there. However, there were many holes in such a plan. For one, she could simply refuse to leave and stick to public places, getting attention if he tried to physically apprehend her. In the current circumstances she could tell Simon at least, or make him come with her. Simon may not be able to see Jace, but he would notice if she was killed in front of him. A far better time to get rid of her would be when she was unaware of their presence; maybe take her out with a long-distance weapon, whilst she was asleep or alone. To give her such an opportunity to escape with the knowledge that she was a target went against everything she had seen of the efficient hunting team.
Maybe it was a different type of mission then. They could be investigating her, since the three had been so astounded that she, a 'mundie', could see them. Following her for a few days could allow them to gather information records would not yield, and allow them to assert whether she had begun telling everyone about what she had witnessed. But then why would Jace make himself known? It would hardly be an efficient investigation if the target knew she was being watched.
"Ah," she murmured quietly, watching as Jace continued on towards the exit. "Retrieval, then."
"Anna?" Simon looked up at her in a mixture of confusion and anxiety, the emotions only increasing when she stood up. "Where are you going?"
"I'm not feeling well again," she supplied, eyes remaining fixed on the blond boy. "I'm going to go home. Sorry." Excuses given, she slipped around the table and moved towards the door.
It was a rarely used side door, she knew, leading out into an alley. This time on a Monday there would be no need to worry about any interruptions, as the alley was only commonly used on week-end nights, and the high windowless walls of the buildings on either side would prevent anyone from eavesdropping on their conversation, whilst the doors to the café were thick enough to also ensure this. She wondered if Jace had planned it that way, or if it was simply a lucky coincidence. Either way, when she stepped outside there he was, leaning against the opposite wall with a small device about the size of a mobile in his hand.
First tactic; intimidation. Knock him off balance, take him out of his comfort zone. He has no control; you do.
Jace barely had a chance to look at his attacker before he was shoved painfully against the wall.
Here's the second chapter; hope you guys liked it.
Please leave a review to let me know what you think, and thank you to all those who have already. Reviews really help to keep me motivated, and bring my attention back to a story, since I've got so many others that I haven't posted yet that I'm working on.
The dialogue doesn't follow canon completely, something I'm trying hard to keep whilst still getting the necessary information across. Let me know if I'm keeping everyone in character, though obviously Anna's personality will result in different relationships with different characters, therefore effecting how they interact. I wasn't sure about keeping the Simon's crush thing, so if it seems to awkward or anything I might change that.
(the Sephiroth-is-like-Anna thing? Totally didn't mean to do that. I actually wrote the first chapter and thus Anna's characterisation way before I was a FFVII fan. But yay for happy coincidences!)