You probably know this already, but I don't own all of these characters and ideas. I just twisted them a little. Okay, okay, I'll admit... a lot... so dont' get angry if I change stuff around that you really liked the way it was... Pweeaase?

Prologue

My mother owned and operated an expensive high-end restaurant before I found out that I was actually the daughter of a cat and a wine god and destined to marry a half-blood who was the heir of a galaxy called Asgard as an alliance. This, of course, was before I knew who my father was, before I knew anything other than what any normal human would know. This was when I had a stepfather whose architectural work was in high demand all over the country, causing him to travel a lot. While I had an older stepbrother, Carlos, and a younger half-sister, Rohana. This was when I was employed at my mother's restaurant as a waitress and an unofficial taste-tester. I really should've seen it coming. I didn't look anything like my mom; actually, we were like complete opposites. For her short blonde pixie cut, I had long, ring-like black hair that I swear, in the right light, showed undertones of purple. For her sparkling, crystal green eyes, I had deep, mysterious, indigo colored irises. For her tan, beachy complexion, I was more like a porcelain doll. For her energetic, bubbling personality, I had an artistic way of looking at things and a strong belief that there was a song for every part of anyone's life. But I suppose, like every good story, we should start at the beginning, and not the end.

...

Chapter 1

"Oh, Kyra, could you pleease get my table for me?" I could feel the wind as Alicia, my mother, ran past me.

"What is it? An ex?" I questioned.

Yes, even though she was married, had been married for five years now, guys didn't seem to know when to give up. She'd already gotten three restraining orders in the past month or so.

"No, no, not exactly. I just… need a mirror… yeah… pleease Kyra?"

"Okay, fine," I consented. "Go find that mirror."

She smiled gratefully and rushed off again.

The only downside to her personality was that she never really thought of me as her daughter. The bright side was that we were best friends.

My mind wondered whom it was that could've sent her running to me. It could easily be just a food critic, as she never trusted anyone (even herself) to serve them but me. When the table came into sight, I almost laughed.

She hated it when Diego came by without warning.

"Hey, there's my favorite waiter!" His Spanish accent flavored his speech.

"Waitress, Diego," I corrected with a smile. "How long are you in town this time?"

"Couple weeks, maybe a month or two," He shrugged. "My next project was cancelled."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Diego. I know you were looking forward to designing that one. Do you know why they cancelled?"

"Money. Or something like that," He said dismissively, and then leaned closer whispering conspiratorially. "But between me and you, I think they were scared."

I laughed and rolled my eyes, "Then they're definitely not worthy of your time."

Yeah, my step-dad was kind of scary. He was tall, muscular, and he looked like he could be in a gang. When I first met him, I was scared, but that was before I learned that he was actually very gentle and would only hurt you if you presented a threat to anyone he cared about. So I was actually safer than I had been before I knew him.

"Does Carlos know you're here?"

He nodded, "I called him right before I came here, so he and Rohana should be here soon."

"Sooner than you think," Carlos commented with an accent that matched Diego's from behind me and I turned to him. "Hey, chica, I didn't know you were working today. But then again, you're schedule always changes."

I rolled my eyes and hugged him, "You know I work whenever Mom needs help!" Then I turned to our little sister. "You want a kids menu this time, Rohana?"

"Yes, please, Kiya," She was adorable, but then again, weren't all four-year-olds adorable? No, I guess not.

"Okay, here you go," I handed her one I always kept in my apron and two crayons: red and yellow, her favorite colors.

"Thanks Kiya!" She hopped onto Diego's lap to commence coloring.

"So, you guys want anything?"

"Well, I don't know," Carlos sat down and flipped through a menu half-heartedly. "Surprise us!"

"Don't complain then," I smiled mischievously, took their menus and their surprise order to the kitchen, and went to find my mother.

"Mom?" I tapped on a stall in the bathroom. "It's just Carlos and Diego, Rohana's there too. You know they don't care what you look like," I knocked again. "Mom?"

"You… didn't see him?" She finally answered. "He didn't try to talk to you?"

"Um, no, I don't think so," I replied in confusion. "Who's "he"?"

She didn't reply, instead unlatched the door and proceeded to wash her hands.

"Mom, you're not being honest with me," I warned that she was breaking a sacred code.

She took my hands, "I promise, pinky promise, that I'll tell you later, okay?"

"Tonight?" I raised my eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, tonight."

The meal was unusually tense. Or maybe that was just me. Something wasn't right and I couldn't let myself relax. That could also be that I felt like someone was watching the table. Or maybe it was just the cameras we had just installed.

Either way there was definitely some creepy suspenseful music in the distance of my imagination. Kinda like the theme of Jaws.

Of course I wouldn't get a chance to find out what was about to attack me until after we had gone home for the night and I was sitting cross-legged on my bed. Almost anxious, really.

"Kyra? I didn't think you'd still be awake," My mom peers through the doorway.

I look at her with raised eyebrows and she sighs.

"I guess I didn't really expect you to forget either," She sat down on my bed beside me and hugged a nearby pillow, copying me stance. "I just got off the phone with someone very important. We were talking about you."

My mind raced to who it could be and the worst scenarios came to mind: the principal, the police, the CIA, or maybe it was the president! No, I didn't think so. For all I knew, it could've been the drug-dealer across the street who took pictures of me with his cell phone whenever I walked by.

I really hope not.

Really.

And then the shark attacked.

"It was your father," She says a bit nervous. "He wants to see you."

Okay, the drug-dealer was sounding pretty good right about now.

"My father?"

"Yes, that's what I said," She smiled. "I think you'll like him. You look just the same."

"Mhmm. So I'm supposed to like him just because he looks like me?"

"No, Kyra," She laughs. "Trust me on this. I've arranged a meeting tomorrow at Carlos' work. He'll take you there and if you want, he can stay with you. It'll be for lunch, so just go there after your dance classes."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course!" She hops off my bed and heads for the door. "It'll be fun. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I reply.