"But Fina, it will be dangerous!" my father, the Count Toscana, paced angrily in front of me. I adopted the formal way of speaking that I always used when reasoning with my father. But instead of my usual stoic manner, a tiny bit of desperation seeped into my voice.

"Surely it cannot cause me any more pain than staying at home does. I need to be free, father, and Maria's threats have held me prisoner for too long. I am dying by inches, stuck in my room like a damsel in distress from the fairytales."

Ren touched her Soulfinder's arm tenderly. "My dear, let your heart, not your head, rule this decision. The outcome will be better."

Father exhaled shortly before conceding. "Very well."

I practically flew from the room.

VICTOR POV

I was snappier than usual when Trace arrived at our apartment. He sensed it before I said a word. "Whoa, what's with you, Vic?" he asked. I scowled, not replying. "Come on man, what's the problem?"

"I met my Soulfinder," I told him.

"But that's amazing!"

"I seriously pissed my Soulfinder off."

"Oh. Not so good."

"And I will probably never see my Soulfinder again, not that she'd even want to see me." I stormed from the room, already contemplating work tomorrow.

The FBI, my second love.

The first being the mysterious girl from the crane hide.

My exact opposite.

As fair as I was dark, her silvery blonde hair and deep, chocolate brown eyes as different as possible to my black hair and silver eyes. I sighed. Well, that was a problem for another day, and my dreams tonight, I was sure. What a way to end the day.

0ooooooooooooooooooooooooo0

SERA'S POV

"And this is your desk, m'dear. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. As you'll be at the desk all day, feel free to draw anyone you like, to prove your skills to the boss. He's only just got the job, and honestly I think he's worried that Vic B will take the job." the secretary, a kindly woman in her 40s, lowered her voice.

"It's nonsense really. Vic is a good boy, he wouldn't want any trouble. You'll meet him soon, he's a dear!"

I nodded distractedly, rubbing the sharp pencils between my fingers. The secretary, Ms. Marksons, smiled indulgently.

"I'll leave you be, love. Call me anytime!" she left the room, high heels click-clacking.

I sighed and got to work, not really paying attention to my sketching.

VICTOR'S POV

I strode into the office, offering a curt nod to Ms Marksons at the front desk. She smiled at me, motioning me over. I sighed, but complied. Ms Marksons had a sugary manner, but when provoked she had a disapproving glare to turn you to stone. She was a tiger, hidden by a kitten-like alibi. I almost grinned at the comparison, but quickly hid the smile. I too had an image to keep up.

"Yes?" I enquired. She smiled pleasantly.

"Well you see, Victor dear, we have a new recruit. She can sketch the exact likeness of a person - it's quite remarkable! But she is rather shy, so try not to scare her." she glared at me, and I saw the hardness in her eyes. Her tiger was about to be released if I didn't appease her.

"Yes yes, of course. I know I can be intimidating sometimes, I'll tone down my Vickyness for a while." I rolled my eyes as Ms. Marksons beamed.

"Thanks awfully, Vic, you know how Cal can get when you scare his recruits!" I gave her a flicker of a smile. It wasn't much in comparison to the wild grins I gave at home, but she was ecstatic.

"Yes, well, you must go, I have work to do." she waved me away, attention already elsewhere.

I walked on, barely noticing my colleagues as they bade me good morning. I glanced into each office I went by, just in case I saw Ms. Marksons' new recruit that had taken the tiger by storm.

I stopped at the last office and glanced in. a sheet of light blonde, near white hair hid the occupant's face from view. Her slim wrist flexed elegantly as her hand flew across the paper. I coughed quietly, and her hand flapped at me, the universal sign for wait.

Finally she turned to me, dark eyes bright. I realized with a jolt just who she was. My Soulfinder. And she was working at the FBI. Just wonderful.

Her eyes widened and she glanced down at her work, then back to me, several times. I raised my eyebrows and she flushed.

"Sorry, that was rude. I'm Sera, by the way. Serafina Toscana."

I froze, a thousand images bombarding my brain. Maria Toscana Kelly. Her father, Daniel Kelly. Them kidnapping my brother Zed's Soulfinder, Sky. Zed going crazy, picking fights and almost losing his head.

And this girl probably knew - maybe even sympathized with - Maria, almost as bad as her snake-in-the-grass father. And this girl was who fate had chosen to be my Soulfinder.

I nodded curtly. "Victor Benedict."

SERA'S POV

I stood abruptly, getting the desk between us. This man had insulted my profession, rudely disrupted a lovely day out. And he was practically my boss.

"What," I said, eyes narrowing "Are you doing here? Why do you ruin every good thing in my life? I don't even know you and you're being a jerk. What is your problem?" my voice was rising, but I didn't care. I'd been having a relaxing day, just sketching and concentrating on pleasing my boss, until he had decided to come barging in and ruin everything.

Victor looked equally angry. "Maybe because you deserve it?"

I stayed perfectly still for a moment, before slapping him for all I was worth. The sound of it sent Ms. Marksons running. Her sharp eyes took in the scene, going from me, scarlet with anger, to Victor, holding his cheek and glaring daggers at me. I snatched up my artwork and running from the room, making sure to bump his shoulder on the way out.

As I ran, I grabbed for my pack of tissues, ever in my pocket. Ripping open the packet, I frantically pressed one to my face. My mascara was not waterproof, as, strangely, I had not thought I would meet a sadistic man who would make me cry that day. Slamming into the door to the ladies' toilets, I ran for the mirror. I dabbed furiously at my face, catching the tears that fell. With a gentle bang, the door opened again, and I was enveloped in Ms. Marksons' motherly embrace.

"Oh, honey, what has that boy done to you?" she murmured into my hair, as I sobbed into her shoulder. I heaved for breath, before gasping, "I just… don't know…what I've done… to HIM!" I sobbed harder. "And he…h-hates me, and h-he said… he said that I deserved to be made fun of, and that my drawings didn't matter!"

Ms. Marksons let out a growl, gently pushing me back from her. "I'll be talking to Cal about this. He had no right to treat you like that. What on earth was he thinking?" she scowled darkly. "I'd go out there and rib him about it right now, but he's already left. Said something about a family emergency."

"OK, it's fine. I don't want any trouble." I wrung my hands, fretting. "I should get back to work. Thanks for your help, Ms. Marksons!"