Chapter One:

"Look kid, I'm not saying you have to stop using magic, I'm just saying it's dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

I glared at Gabriel, he was taller than me, around 5' 8'' or so, and as usual he was dressed in a green ARMY jacket, a dark blue t-shirt and jeans.

He might have appeared intimidating, leaning over the counter with that deadly serious look upon his face, if he had been speaking to anyone other than me.

I put down my cereal spoon, "Yeah, because Chicago is just chalk-full of wizards who are willing and waiting to teach broke college kids how not to blow stuff up."

I half expected him to grumble, roll his eyes and drop it, but it surprised me when he instead, smirked at me and snapped his fingers.

A business card dropped out of the air and landed with a soft 'clack' on the counter-top next to my cereal bowl.

I picked it up and read it allowed "Harry Dresden, Wizard, Lost Items Found, Paranormal Investigations, Consulting, Advice, Reasonable Rates: 312-555-8702; No Love Potions, Endless Purses, Parties or Other Entertainment"

I raised my eyebrow at Gabriel's smug smirk, "So what? You want me to call this guy up and ask for training? That'll go over well, 'Hey Mr. Dresden I heard you're a wizard, mind teaching me how to light people on fire without having them explode in my face?' How do we even know if this guy is a real wizard?! Wizards don't go around putting 'Wizard' on their business cards! That'd be stupid."

Gabriel was insistent, "You need help."

I scowled, "Why can't You help me."

He gave me a pained look "You know why."

"I hate stairs, you know that right?" I grumbled.

"Well It's not my fault you can't use an elevator."

"Blaming it on you, makes me feel better though."

Gabriel sighed, "Just keep climbing."

"What kind of wizard puts his office on the third floor anyway?"

Gabriel didn't respond.

"What kind of wizard HAS an office?"

Just as I reached the door at the top of the stairs, it flung open.

The first thing I noticed was the hat, it was wide brimmed and dark and appeared very much like the sort of hat that I had always imagined Van Helsing wearing.

He was tall, taller than Gabriel, and scruffy in a way that very much reminded me of my dad.

Unlike my dad the man seemed extremely comfortable in a trench coat.

I immediately liked him.

"Sorry I'm closed, You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Gabriel responded first, "oh trust me, you'll want to hear this."

"Like I said, I'm closed. Come back tomorrow." The man was more firm this time, his eyes landed briefly on me and I fidgeted nervously.

I stepped back to allow him passage, but Gabriel squared off.

"Whoa there Dumbledore, I don't think you understand what I'm getting at. We need your help."

"You must not have heard me the first two times I said it, so I'll say it again, I'm Closed."

The tension in the air seemed to sky rocket, Gabriel stepped forward, and without really thinking I moved to intercept him.

"Gabe," I said, "It's okay, we'll come back tomorrow."

For a moment I thought Gabriel might persist and cause the argument to escalate.

The two men glared at each other for what seemed like hours before Gabriel's shoulders relaxed.

He popped a sucker into his mouth, with a nonchalant shrug, his eyes flickered down to me, "Fine, whatever you say kiddo, let's go get some grub."

All the tension seemed to vanish as Gabriel ruffled my bangs and started down the stairs.

I stared after him for a second, a little surprised by how easily he let the matter go. As I started down the staircase after Gabriel I could feel Harry Dresden's eyes on my back.

Gabriel seemed to be in a much better mood now, at the very least he was putting on a good show for the busty red head and the sexy blonde over at the hotel's bar.

He shot me a smug wink over his shoulder, and I rolled my eyes at him, shifting my attention to my meal.

It was Spaghetti and meatballs, with a small dish of what appeared to be steamed broccoli. I'd asked for the special, and this was what they'd brought me.

It wasn't a big deal, I actually liked spaghetti.

I'd played it off earlier, pretended like my turbulent ability to make things spontaneously combust didn't bother me; but now that I was alone with my thoughts, I was feeling a little bit apprehensive.

My fork made a scraping noise as I twirled the noodles carelessly about my plate.

"You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't be eating alone."

I looked up at the man, he was attractive but I had never been very good at talking to the opposite sex.

"um... I'm here with my friend..." I pointed Gabriel out sheepishly.

The man raised an eyebrow, "The guy picking up chicks over by the bar?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," he seemed to hesitate for a second, before pointing at Gabriel unoccupied seat, "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

I nodded at the empty seat, I wasn't really in the mood for company, but it would have been rude to tell the man to find another seat.

I went back to twirling my noodles.

"Pretty sure you're supposed to actually eat the noodles, not twirl them around," he said with a half-chuckle.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Is there a rulebook for eating Spaghetti that I haven't read somewhere?"

He laughed then, it sounded like bells, I couldn't quite stop the grin that slide onto my face.

After that he reached a hand across the table, "Jon Harker."

I hesitated for a second, then shook his hand, "Samantha Reid."

He nodded as he retracted his hand.

"Good, I found you then."

I felt my stomach drop, "What?"

The table flipped, catching me off guard and sending some of the other guests skittering away from the sudden commotion.

My chair fell backwards, taking me with it and sandwiching me between table and seat.

Before I even realized what was happening, I heard the tell-tale click of a gun.

It happened in an instant, the table exploded into flames, causing my would be attacker to yelp in surprise. I kicked the table away from me, ignoring the screams of the hotel guests around me as I attempted to scramble to my feet.

The sound of gun fire made my blood freeze in my veins.

"Sam! Get out of here!"

My eyes darted back towards my attacker, only to find Gabriel wrestling the gun away from 'Jon Harker'.

"Gabe?"

He let out an exasperated sigh and without warning, kicked the gun man in the gut.

I snapped my eyes closed as Gabriel's palm landed on my forehead.

It felt like the world was spinning and it stopped so suddenly that I stumbled.

"Whoa there, Johnny Storm, take it easy."

I thought about telling him that Johnny Storm had never caused a table to spontaneously combust, but my equilibrium had other ideas.

Gabriel caught my arm and steadied me as I teetered sideways.

I thought I would be alright for a second, but then, like every time I'd been phased somewhere before, I doubled over and started heaving.

When I was finished, I stood up, the bitter taste of bile still lingering on my taste buds.

Gabriel was giving me an apologetic look, "Sorry princess, I should have been watching more closely."

I brushed my hair back out of my face, ignoring his un-needed apology, "Where are we?"

Gabriel shrugged, "Dunno, I just phased us to the first safe place I found on my radar."

I should mention, this wasn't the first time Gabriel had phased us out of a serious situation, by all means I should have been used to it by now. What I wasn't used to was Gabriel having no idea where we were when we landed.

That should explain why I suddenly felt so uneasy.

The neighborhood was quiet, lined with old victorian houses and massive oak trees, and by all means, I should have felt much more at ease than I did.

The house we found ourselves standing in front of now looked like something out of a fairytale, white picket fence and all.

I heaved a sigh, and glanced back at Gabriel, he was staring intently at the house, shoulders set stubbornly.

After a moment he started moving, "Come on."

I stared after him for a moment, not sure what he was thinking, and then I jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Gabriel stayed one step ahead of me, almost as if he was trying to keep himself between me and the house.

To my surprise we marched straight up to the front door of the peaceful little house.

Almost as soon as Gabriel moved to knock on the door it swung open.

This time the man at the door met Gabriel's eyes squarely. They spoke in low serious tones for a moment, in something that sounded suspiciously like latin.

"By heaven," the man murmured(in english this time), crossing himself.

Gabriel faltered for a second, seemingly uncomfortable.

The man's eyes fell on me, and his eyes seemed to soften, "Charity!" he called into the house, "We're going to need the guest room."

Gabriel's shoulders relaxed, as if he was more comfortable around the unknown man but I just blinked in confusion.

Guest room?

Why were they going to need the guest room?

These people didn't even know who we were... Or maybe they did, who knows what Gabriel told them. My head hurt, and I was too exhausted to bother with asking questions. I felt like I hadn't slept in weeks, as result of the massive explosion of energy that had been sucked right out of me back at the restaurant.

I winced as my stomach growled, I'd missed lunch in order to catch the tram to Mr. Dresden's office.

Some part of me hoped Gabriel had mentioned that I hadn't gotten to finish my spaghetti.

The man stepped aside, "Please, come in."

Gabriel stepped over the threshold, tugging me gently behind him by the hand.

I wondered when he had grasped my hand.

The man closed the door behind us, but not without first glancing around outside.

As it happens, Mrs. Carpenter seemed more than aware of my, now, empty stomach.

Almost the instant I was in her sights the woman ushered me into her kitchen and demanded I eat something.

I hesitated, feeling a little uncomfortable for eating a strangers food, but when she set a plate of leftover meatloaf in front of me and insisted I eat it, I felt my hesitation evaporate.

Mrs. Carpenter, or Charity as she insisted I call her, treated me very much like I would have expected a mother to treat her own child.

I found myself feeling vaguely jealous towards her children, who we had been told were in their beds and fast asleep; I'd never really had a mom, but if I'd had one, I would very much have liked to have one like Charity Carpenter.

While I was in the kitchen I could hear Gabriel and Mr. Carpenter talking in the living room. I strained my ears in hopes of picking up their conversation, but they spoke so quietly that all I could hear was a low murmuring sound.

After I'd eaten Charity showed me to the guest room.

She pointed me to the bathroom and had already laid out a lose t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants on the bed.

I tried to explain that I didn't mind wearing the same clothes after my shower, but she all but demanded I bring them down after my shower so that she could wash them.

She didn't seem like the kind of person who handled insubordination very well so I did exactly as she instructed me.

I hopped into the shower.

The water felt better than I had expected it would, but it made me feel more tired than I already was.

I gave me time to think back on the incident at the restaurant.

Jon Harker was the third man in two weeks who had tried to kill me.

The first one had ended up in ICU at the hospital with severe burns and a broken leg.

The second one was in a coma and suffering injuries much more severe, I hadn't intended to hurt him, the truck had just... exploded.

What really bothered me was, I couldn't figure out for the life of me why these people were trying to kill me.

I was positive that someone was trying to kill me.

One attacker can easily be passed off as chance, a statistic, the one crazy person out of every five who decided to go ballistic.

Two could be passed off as coincidence, or just bad luck; but three, three was a promise.

No one on the planet had enough bad luck to be attacked three times in two weeks.

No, it was very clear that someone wanted me dead.

There was a target on my head and I needed to know why.

When I woke up it was to the worry lined face of Gabriel.

I sat up, and found that I was sitting on a soft quilt covered mattress inside a small quaint little room.

I couldn't remember going to bed, but I remembered sitting down on the Carpenter's couch and listening to Gabriel and Mr. Carpenter, who insisted that I call him Micheal, discussed whatever it was they were discussing in such secrecy.

It wouldn't have mattered even if I had heard much of their conversation, because I didn't speak latin.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch.

My head ached.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair.

He wasn't looking at me when he said, "We should be safe here for awhile."

I frowned at him, wanting to ask how much longer we would be running for our lives.

Instead I asked, "What are we gonna do?"

He drummed his fingers on his knee, a nervous tick of his that he didn't seem to be aware of, "I'm working on it."