"Lend me your wings! I won't hurt you," he crooned, his silky angel's voice floating delicately on the breeze. It was heavily fragranced with the scent of jasmine in full bloom, wonderfully sweet. I stepped closer, unsure. He smiled encouragingly and I took another tentative step until I stood before him. "There now, that's better," he said, opening his arms to embrace me.

"Won't you lend me your wings?" he repeated, fiery green eyes burning their way to my very soul. I swallowed and glanced over my shoulder, surprised to see a beautiful expanse of downy white feathers arching in two perfect extensions from my shoulder blades. I turned back to him and pulled away, sorrow filling my heart. He grew agitated, his brown hair whipping around in a sudden, angry breeze. His sculpted lips parted and I saw fangs glinting evilly.

"Sydney, why? Why won't you lend me your wings?" His skin turned an ashy black, green eyes flashing red. His hold became rough, painful, as I struggled to break it. The sweet scent of night jasmine transformed into the cloying stench of rotting flesh. I gagged, my panic growing by the second. He brought those glistening fangs close to my neck and I futilely pushed at his midnight chest. "I need you, Sydney, why can't you see that? I need your wings! Sydney. Sydney!"

"Sydney," a voice said calmly. "Wake up. You're having a bad dream. Come now, Sydney, stop flailing." I snapped into awareness, bolting straight up and drawing the thin blanket up to my chin in alarm. There was a strange man in my room; I think I deserved to be somewhat worried. I shook the lingering dream from my psyche, disturbed by the implications.

"Who are you?" The words died on my lips as he turned his face to check the glowing numbers on the digital clock by my bed. A golden lily tattoo shimmered slightly in the radiance of the numbers. I posed another question, shifting myself into a more dignified position. "Why are you here?"

"You've been summoned," he said simply, standing and brushing imaginary dust off his crisp gray slacks. He had the calm, cool, and collected look of all Alchemists. When I didn't reply, he made a small noise of annoyance. "Your flight leaves in two hours, I expect you'll be ready to leave in thirty minutes."

Something inside my clicked and I instantly snapped back into good little Alchemist mode. Perhaps this man evoked the remaining part of me who still lived to serve my higher-ups. "Yes, sir. Might I have more information on where we're going, and how long I'll be gone? I'll have to make some phone calls, you see, to let the proper officials know about my absence." He nodded approvingly and picked up a manila envelope that was resting inconspicuously on my bedside table.

"You'll find everything you need in here, Miss Sage." He glanced at his wrist. "Be quick." I nodded curtly and waited for him to leave before climbing out of bed. I fished my suitcase from the closet and unzipped it. It was already partially packed; I kept it ready in preparation for situations just like these, proof of my solid Alchemist training. All I added to the suitcase was my toiletries in their separate bag, extra dress pants, and my make up kit, not knowing where I would be or how long I'd be there. Into my purse went the extensive collection of acids, bases, and neutralizers that made up the tools of my trade. With a moment of hesitation I added some of the herbs Ms. Terwilliger has been subtly forcing on me for spells lately. I sent a silent prayer, hoping I wouldn't be searched and questioned.

I had the feeling my fellow Alchemists, unlike the uncivilized Warriors, wouldn't take the motley assortment of herbs as potpourri. Nevertheless I re-zipped the suitcase and pulled a pair of khaki pants and an off-white blouse from my closet.

My hair was, as usual, a complete mess. Maybe it was time to grow out the many layers that brushed my shoulders. For now, a healthy coating of hairspray was all I could do to tame the wildness. I stood in front of the mirror again, picking out my flaws in the dim light. I sighed and squared my shoulders, readying myself. A thread of doubt wound its way into my stomach, where it settled uneasily. What use do the Alchemists have for me at what, three in the morning? The last time I was woken for official business, I was shoved into this assignment. Not that I was complaining, per se.

I glanced guiltily at my phone, where it was innocently charging by the bed. I padded over to it and checked for messages. On habit, I almost sent Adrian a text explaining what was going on; the message was almost typed out when I froze, remembering the recent events that had gone on between us. I bitterly mashed my thumb against the end button, closing out the text, and slipped the phone into my voluminous purse. A check of the time said I had about five minutes left before I had to be ready.

With nothing left to do, I slipped through the doorway, rolling the suitcase behind me. Like my recent ex, Brayden, I had a thing for being on time, or early if possible. I waited in the hall, unsure of where to meet my mysterious Alchemist. Just as I was about to head for the stairs to the main lobby of the dorm, I felt a faint vibration from my purse.

A message from an unknown number popped up. Car waiting out front. Dorm matron taken care of. I took the brief explanation as my answer and clumped down the stairs, feeling frumpy and awkward due to the late hour. My steps were amplified, adding to the clumsy feel. Before long I pushed through the doors to the lobby. A dark, nondescript car waited silently by the curb, the low purr of the engine an indication that however plain, this car could move.

The back seat was opened and I frowned as I slipped in. The unknown Alchemist took my suitcase and expertly fit it into the small trunk. The slam of the hatch jarred me and I began to grow nervous. Most things I could reason away with logic, and thus didn't fear. This, however, had too many loose ends, too many unknown variables that didn't add up. When the man slid into the front seat I pulled the manila envelope from my purse and began leafing through the numerous papers stacked inside. Included was a glossy photograph of a Moroi man with dark hair and shockingly blue eyes. Not as nice as green... I was surprised by the errant thoughts and forced away visions of emerald green eyes staring intently at my every move; it was too close to the nightmare for comfort. I flipped the photo over. The next page contained a short biography. It read:

Name: Christian Ozera, royal

Species: Moroi

Last known location: Royal Court, Pennsylvania

The biography continued on for about a page, detailing Ozera's background and recent history. He sounded familiar, and as I reached the relationship section my eyebrows shot up, for good reason. He was listed as being in a committed relationship with the young Moroi Queen, Vasilisa Dragomir. His aunt, Natasha Ozera, was a stand-out Moroi that the Alchemists were keeping close watch on.

"Hmmm..."

The Alchemist driving the car glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Yes, Miss Sage?"

"Oh. I was just wondering... I have extensive information about a male Moroi, but no indication of what I'm to do with it. It seems odd..." I realized how my speculations sounded and rushed to explain. "I'm fully willing and capable of handling anything the Alchemists need of me. But this," I lifted the sheaf of papers, "doesn't tell me what I need to know, sir."

The man's face in the mirror was stony. "I was not briefed prior to coming to get you, Miss Sage. Our superiors didn't supply me with the information." He managed to turn his mild words into a rebuke and I sank back into the leather seat as if I had been slapped. That was one aspect of the Alchemists that I had not missed. At least in Palm Springs, I never had to fear about insulting someone with a question. I peered out the tinted window at the barren desert landscape. I had no clue where we were or where we were going. I might as well get comfortable.

.

The ride itself was only about forty minutes thanks to the somewhat reckless driving of my chauffer. We stopped at a wind-blown, sleepy little airport and silently boarded a personal jet. They didn't ask for a ticket, and I wasn't provided one, so I assumed my air fair was taken care of by the Alchemists. The sole flight attendant made her way toward my seat, and passed me a tiny flash drive. I took it with murmured thanks and fished my laptop from my carry-on, booting up in a mere handful of seconds. God, I love technology. My thoughts were floored, however, when I inserted the flash drive and a massive PDF opened and downloaded.

"He's missing?" My words were harsh in the quiet calm and the Alchemist jerked in his seat, startled. I lowered my voice. "Christian Ozera is missing, and we're only just now hearing of this? How could this happen? The Royal Court is crawling with guardians, for goodness sake!"

A brief flash of contempt crossed the Alchemist's face. "Miss Sage, I was informed merely to locate you and bring you to the nearest Alchemist bunker. The finer workings of our organization would be lost on one such as me. Stanton praises your quick thinking and concise decision making, but I dare say I have yet to see an example of such."

Another verbal slap. I'd gotten soft during my time in Palm Springs. Comments like that had come often from my own father, and they had rolled right off me. Now, they stung with the insult of criticism from a complete stranger. I forced myself to reply civilly. "My apologies, sir. I'm concerned about the effect this will have on Moroi politics. As you must know," I said with as much offhand distain as I could, "their social workings greatly influence our own... Sir." I had the nerve to add the last bit in my own show of contempt. I was Sydney Sage, upstanding Alchemist and daughter to Jared Sage. I would not be talked down to.

He narrowed his eyes but remained silent. He pulled out his own laptop and inserted ear buds, effectively ignoring me. I sniffed and turned back to my own laptop, pouring over the PDF with an intensity I normally reserved for Shakespeare and Chaucer.

When we disembarked I gasped. I was never fond of air planes and hadn't looked out the small round window once during our trip. We were still in a desert, but I had a feeling we were far from Palm Springs. The alchemist, toting my suitcase, put a hard hand on my elbow to guide me off the runway. For some reason, I resented both the contact and the fact that he didn't think me capable of carrying my own luggage.

"Welcome to Mexico," he said coolly. I could sense his haughty smile and resisted the urge to use the backwards kick my self-defense instructor, Wolfe, had taught me. Eddie and Angeline were rubbing off on me, I decided. I grinned at the memory of fighting class with Adrian, but my amusement soon melted under the Mexico sky. Ever since the monumental kiss, all contact between us had come to a screeching halt.

I felt a hollow space in my life that his company used to fill, but I shook my head and picked up my pace to a brisk walk. Sweat beaded on my forehead even though the sun was barely passed the horizon. Must have passed a time zone somewhere... My wrist watch confirmed as much.

"This way, please." We stepped off the runway and into the blessed cool of an overhang walkway leading to a small-ish building made out of rough brown bricks. They looked suspiciously hand-made.

Once we entered the bright reception lobby I relaxed. Air conditioning blasted from vents in the ceiling, and potted plants dotted the room. But what truly set my mind at ease was the woman sitting behind the counter. Her dusky skin and dark hair told me she was native to this country, and the gold ink of her lily tattoo glinted prettily. In combination with her tanned complexion, the gold gave her an exotic look. I felt pale and washed out in comparison.

"Miss Sage, I presume? My name is Maria Ramirez, local Alchemist for this section of Baja. Please, follow me." She made her way down a hallway and stopped at a closed door, punching in a series of numbers into the keypad. A small green light appeared and she pushed the door open. "Here you are, Miss Sage. I trust my colleague has appropriately filled you in on the situation?"

I forced the scowl off my face and managed a pleasant tone, hating to admit to being uninformed. The PDF had only told me so much. "Yes, thank you. He was quite helpful." Maria nodded and left. I braced myself, not knowing in the slightest what I would find on the other side of this door. I eased it further open and my breath caught.

A tall man sat rigidly in a metal folding chair, facing a group of people likewise seated. A paper cup of coffee sat steaming on his knee. His sandy blonde hair shifted slightly as the air pressure between the room and hallway equalized to accommodate the opening door. Light brown eyes flicked my way and my throat tightened un-willfully. The man assessed my flight-rumpled clothing and frizzing hair, seeming unimpressed and rather disappointed by my arrival. Finally, I found my voice.

"Dad? What's going on? Why are you in Mexico?" My eyes wandered to his companions and I paled, taking in the tension in the room.

"Sydney." I could read the disapproval in his voice. He briefed me in a clipped tone, explaining that since the upheaval in Moroi politics had continued to escalate while Jillian Mastrano Dragomir (I almost corrected him, saying that she preferred "Jill," but held my tongue at the last moment) was in seclusion, more aggressive measures were to be taken.

He seemed rather nonchalant about the fact that Christian Ozera, boyfriend to the Queen, was taken in retaliation by the rebels to Jill's continued absence. "Barbarians, the lot of them," was his disdainful conclusion. How could he not even care that Ozera was taken? Vampire or not, he's a higher ranking royal; flippancy will only get him killed.

An uncomfortable silence followed his words as the various other Alchemists in the room murmured their agreements. Mere months ago I would have wholeheartedly supported the barbarian comment. Traveling with the infamous Rose Hathaway, who was so full of life and passion and good, had partially changed my strict mindset. Not that I was completely comfortable around vampires, but the whole "evil-creature-of-the-night" idiom had lost its power as of late. Dorming with Jill and the rest of my "family" had also slightly redirected my moral compass, something I was not keen on letting my superiors find out.

"Sir? If I may?" My father inclined his head, which was apparently permission to speak. "What exactly will 'aggressive measures' entail? Our cover story at Amberwood Prep is already thin at best, what with so many so-called family members." I let the appropriate amount of disgust color my words and earned nods from my colleagues. A sick feeling settled in my stomach. "I'm concerned that any additions to our mission will alert the human populace of Palm Springs to our presence. Also," I added in what I hoped to appear as an afterthought, smoothing a wrinkle from the soft tan fabric of my pants in a remarkable show of casualness, "the resident Warrior of Light is aware and watchful of our goings-on. He's so far ignorant of Miss Mastrano's true identity and I'm loath to make him privy to such sensitive information." There. My spiel made me appear confident and in control of the situation and I could see my father taking the words into consideration.

The thought made a warm glow spread throughout my chest, that he was actually weighing my opinion with consideration.

"We had originally planned on pulling you out of Palm Springs and relocating the entire mission elsewhere. But perhaps," he murmured, pressing his fingertips together in a steeple as he reclined in his chair, deep in thought. "Perhaps we could use this Warrior to our advantage." My mind went blank and the warm feeling vanished. They want to use Trey? How on Earth would that solve anything? I fingered the small gold cross around my neck, souvenir from my stint in Germany, as I waited for my father to continue.

He didn't disappoint. "In previous reports, you've described the Warrior as clever and competent, if misguided in his beliefs." I nodded. "Rather than bringing in new people who would put the operation at risk, maybe..." I could see where he was going with this and my mouth popped open of its own accord. "Maybe a bridge between the Warriors and Alchemists is not so far-fetched after all." The others in the room, who seemed to regard my father with worshipful reverence, all gasped at his words and made the sign against evil on their left shoulders.

"Sir?" I managed to force out after the shock wore off. "They're uncivilized, ruthless, intent on killing not only Strigoi but also Moroi and Dhampirs. Trey is my friend, but –" I cut my incriminating words off, but no one seemed to have been offended by them so I continued, slower. "But he lacks the delicacy and objectiveness crucial to success in this endeavor." I held my breath, worried that my bold opposition would earn me a flat glare from my father. He only sighed in a rare show of frustration.

"It's not ideal. This whole situation is far from ideal. But we have to work with what we have, and if an outcast Warrior desperate to regain favor is what we have..." His words trailed off and I sighed, too. For a few seconds the only thing to be heard was the hum of the air conditioning struggling to keep the room cool.

"So what should I do?" I finally asked.

It must be a day of firsts, because my father laughed. Not a sarcastic, scornful chuckle, but a chortle that seemed to hold genuine amusement. For a flash of a second, he looked sincerely pleased. "Do, Sydney? Why, you're going to do exactly what you have been doing, keeping the Mastrano girl safe and under the radar. We expect you to continue your efforts at Amberwood. This meeting was to keep you informed and in the loop as the operation continues to manifest. The Warrior will provide the extra intel required. We expect formal reports submitted on a weekly basis from the both of you due to heightened danger."

Again, my mind went blank, but soon kicked into hyper drive to compensate for the lapse. After another moment of silence, with half a dozen pairs of eyes intent on me, I smiled professionally. "Yes, sir." Any remaining tension drained from the room and our companions began to whisper amongst themselves. It was mostly in Spanish, but I was easily able to follow the thread of conversation.

We stood and I shook hands with the other five Alchemists, my mind elsewhere, back in Palm Springs with the Amberwood gang. The new addition to our social group would certainly stir things up a bit. When I came back to the present only my father and I remained in the room. He shuffled a few papers and put them back in his brown leather briefcase meticulously, not speaking.

I clasped my hands behind my back and waited.

After about a minute he looked up, the brief showing of warmth long gone in his features. Back was the detached, analytical man I had grown up with. For some reason it made me sad and I stood straighter under his scrutiny. "Your mother sends her love." I took this as a dismissal and began to leave when he placed a light hand on my shoulder. I started, unable to remember the last time he had done that. I think I was five at the time.

"She is very proud of you and your accomplishments, you know. And she... misses you. Here." He took a small box from his coat pocket and placed it precisely in my limp palm, then turned back to his briefcase and snapped the clasps shut. "Have a pleasant flight, Sydney."

I forced myself to repeat the empty phrase and made for the door, the light box feeling like it weighed a hundred tons in my hand. This had been the closest thing to a father-daughter moment that I'd ever had.

The bright Mexican sun jarred me from my haze as I made my way back to the small jet. Mr. Mysterious Alchemist Man was nowhere to be seen so I saw myself up the short gangway. I was back in Palm Springs by noon, my little sojourn to Mexico having gone mainly unnoticed by my peers.

.

"Earth to Sydney, do you read me?" I jumped guiltily, having dozed off at the lunch table, a stack of text books propped under my cheek. "What's gotten into you? If I didn't know better, I'd say you got less sleep than I did last night," Jill teased me, and my curiosity was piqued.

"Didn't sleep well?" Her smile faded and she glanced down at her yogurt, stirring it absently.

"Nah. Called Adrian at about one in the morning and asked him to turn down the music." She smiled sheepishly and began to ramble. "He really loves this one song and kept playing it over and over again, and it was so good to see him happy about something, but his excitement made me all jittery and keyed up and I couldn't sleep. Poor Angeline had to deal with my tossing and turning all night." The Dhampir did look rather worse for wear, and there were dark circles under her blue eyes. Her only comment was a grunt as she played with her Lucky Charms.

Just then Eddie walked up. Both girls brightened noticeably and I cringed slightly, feeling guilty that I had encouraged Jill's budding feelings for her guardian while Eddie was slowly warming up to the idea of dating Angeline, Jill's other guardian. Such a romantic tangle was far beyond my ability to sort out, even on a good, well-rested day; the finer workings of social situations were lost on me, a fact that Kristin and Julia loved to point out.

There was no point on dwelling on matters I couldn't handle, so I stood to throw my uneaten bagel in the trash can, dusting crumbs from my fingers. Returning to the table, I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. "Going somewhere?" Eddie asked between ravenous bites of scrambled eggs.

"Unfortunately. I need to finish a report Ms. Terwilliger assigned last week. I've been putting it off." I earned shocked looks from my friends and I smiled teasingly. "Hey, it happens! Everyone procrastinates sometimes." Especially with a crazy witch-of-a-teacher like mine. They laughed and I left the cafeteria, but rather than heading toward central campus where the history wing was, I caught the shuttle to the West side campus where the boys' dorms were. It seems I had a date with Trey. I sent him a text, telling him where to meet me, and hoped he hadn't left his lunch yet.

Fifteen minutes later I sat on a bench under the welcome shade of a flowery tree, piecing together my story and what exactly I was going to tell Trey when he showed up. I was just finalizing my explanation when he rounded a corner and walked over casually. He looked nervous, though I wasn't the best at discerning visceral emotion on others.

"Hey Melbourne. You wanted something?"

"Yeah. Listen, Trey. I was just in Mexico this morning," I held up a hand to stop his exclamation of disbelief, "and I met with some fellow Alchemists." His words died, intense brown eyes snapping into alertness. "It seems we have a proposition..."

So! The first chapter to the story. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I like writing it! I love to hear what people think of my writing, so leave a review or drop me a PM and I'll get back to you ASAP.

Cheers!
Rhia