Chapter 3! This would've been up sooner but I decided to put more in from what I planned to be the next chapter, which made it longer. Enjoy!

How could Bitters be dead?

Murdered. Butchered, even. And his watch was in James' room. How did that happen? Did the murderer take it as a souvenir or panic and throw it in his window? Why did everything happen to him?! He couldn't even remember opening his window the previous night! Should he have handed it to the police? Should he have pretended he never saw it? He couldn't . . . he couldn't shake that image of the vice principal being murdered. That bloodstained watch. This town . . . what was up with this town?

"Hey, watch it!"

The hockey puck whizzed across the ice right past James, startling him. "Sorry," he called to one of his teammates, who simply waved him off and continued to play. James directed his attention back to the practice, following the puck across the rink. It was then that he spotted, with a start and a bit of a blush, Kendall sitting in the stands and watching them. Probably there to see Beau. Thankfully they had helmets on . . . he didn't need Kendall seeing him miss that shot; it only further damaged his credibility.

"Okay guys, that's it for today," Jett called, stopping in the middle of the rink and taking his helmet off. "Good job, next week—"

"We'll keep going with these drills and practice games to build up our team strategies," Beau cut in, smiling all around. James resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "And we'll make sure to keep—

"Interrupting what I was about to say," Jett cut in scathingly, scowling at him. "When it was literally exactly what I was going to tell them. I guess you can't handle the spotlight not being on you for a millisecond?"

"You're one to talk, hair gel," Beau snapped. The rest of the team were beginning to slowly skate away from the argument, heading towards the edges of the rink to clamber out towards the benches. James was just following them when he glanced up at the stands again where Kendall was sitting. He stopped and held onto the edge of the barrier when he saw Kendall's hand snap out and knock his notebook and some loose papers onto the floor. At first he thought it was on purpose, but when he saw Kendall diving to his knees and scrambling to pick it all up, he realised it hadn't been. Then Kendall's head snapped up, his expression a picture of pure terror. James frowned as he watched Kendall stuffing his things into his backpack with no regard and throwing it over his shoulder, giving the rink one last terrified glance before he turned around and sprinted up the steps, leaving with a slam of the door.

James sat down on a bench and took off his skates. That was weird; why did Kendall freak out like that? The only thing he could think of was Jett and Beau's argument, but that wasn't exactly frightening. Just annoying and sometimes a little amusing. But maybe it was just James who thought the latter. Either way, that little episode was certainly odd; he wondered if Kendall really was alright after his episode in the woods. How could anyone really be alright after that?

He sat up again after a moment or two and realised everybody else has gone to the locker room. He stood up and picked up his skates. He turned around to walk to the locker room after them when he suddenly felt his head spinning. He groaned, slowing to a stop and gripping his temple. "Fuck," he groaned, vision blurring as he doubled over. His sight blacked out and he felt the sensation of falling towards the floor . . .

When James' eyes opened again, the first things he saw were the long lights and metal beams of the ceiling of the ice rink. He sat up slowly and groaned, rubbing his head. He still felt a little unstable but the headache was all gone. How strange . . . he must have fainted.

He turned over onto his knees and slowly stood up, spotting his skate a few feet away and slowly walking over to pick them up. Getting some rest at home, maybe a drink or a snack, that was what he needed to do. That would hopefully make his head feel a little better. He returned to the deserted locker room and got changed, packing his stuff away into his locker and starting the walk home. He made sure to take it slowly, but his head didn't spin again, not once. It was fortunate, but a little baffling. Once at home, he got straight into bed and took a long nap. The last thing he thought of before he fell asleep was Kendall's stricken expression before he ran out of the rink. How puzzling.

After his nap, he did his homework and ate dinner with his family. "Mr Bitters' funeral is on this weekend," Brooke said in the middle of dinner. "Did the school tell you?"

"Yeah, they announced it on the intercom this morning . . . just to tell people. My friends were telling me the church is only small so it's really just staff that'll be going. It's not like the rest of us really knew him well . . ."

"Of course, of course. It's just so tragic, that something like that could happen – oh, hold on." Brooke got up and walked to the counter, picking up her bag and picking up her trilling cell phone. "Hello? Yeah, hi . . ."

"What do you think of Sherwood so far, Bobby?" James found himself asking. "It's a little less ordinary than we thought, huh?"

"I guess so, it's a bit weird. But I like it. My school is pretty cool, my teacher's great."

"Oh, really?" James smiled; finally, some good news. "Made any friends yet?"

"Oh yeah, a few. Right now we're learning a bit about mythology; our teacher's really into it. We'll be doing group projects on it with our own little parts. It's cool; it's like learning what's in all those movies. Pass the salt?"

James nodded and did, happy to hear that his brother was doing well in school. At least that was something they were both succeeding in.

"James?"

Oh God. He did not like the tone of that voice. He looked up. "Yeah, Mom?"

"That was the school again . . ."

Oh God.

"There's been another body found."

No.

"One of the caretakers, he was found right by the ice rink. Killed the same way Bitters was, all cut up . . . now they definitely reckon it's an animal. A cougar or something. It's terrible . . ."

"Y-Yeah. Terrible. I, I'm going to go lie down . . ."

"Sure, of course honey. Do you need anything?"

"No, thanks . . . thanks for dinner." James got up and hastily went back to his room, crawling back into bed. This town, what was up with this town? People getting slashed up left and right . . . wait. The other night when he was attacked, could it have been that animal they were all talking about? If that was the case, he was lucky to have made it out of there with just a bite. Not that anyone could tell that, given that the bite wasn't even there anymore. His head was starting to hurt again, though he had a feeling it was just from being in such a muddle.

Did Kendall see something back at practice? Was that why he looked so scared? If that was the case, why didn't he say something as a warning? He just ran out and said not a word. How strange . . .

Eventually, he fell asleep. But his dreams were filled with razor sharp teeth, Mr Bitters shrilly yelling, "Tardiness!" at him and the piercing sound of Kendall screaming.


"It wasn't just the body all slashed up," Logan was saying, fingers tapping a frenzied beat against his locker. It was Tuesday; the weekend had passed by pretty quietly. He met Jett, Carlos and Lucy on the Saturday afternoon, startled by the sudden invitation they extended to him. He had no more blackouts, though he did have a few flashes of very intense headaches. The second time it came around, he noticed Lucy intently watching him, eyes narrowed. But as soon as their eyes met, she quickly looked away and paid attention to what Jett was saying. Monday was uneventful; hockey practice was cancelled because the police had still been sniffing around there looking for clues. However, they were gone now, so life at the school could return to "normal". What a laugh. "There were claw marks found on the wall and floor right by his body, long ones. Like something out of a horror movie."

"Sounds spooky," James nodded, hands looping around his backpack straps and tugging them higher up his shoulders. "Um, what do you think it was?"

"Honestly, I don't think it was a mountain lion. But that's not helpful because I have no idea what it was. Anyway, I should get going. See you tomorrow, James! Watch your back." Swiping at James with his hands shaped like claws, Logan laughed and turned around, walking back towards the doors. James went back to his locker and grabbed his jacket before going the same way. He left the school and the grounds, walking onto the sidewalk and making the way past the school bus.

He turned the corner when suddenly he felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around his waist and lift him from the ground. "Hey—" Another hand slammed over his mouth and he was thrown onto something hard, suddenly cast into darkness. He sat up and looked around, seeing there was nothing around him but a rope and some dirty old sports magazines. He heard two doors slamming from behind him, before another very distinctive sound; an engine running. He was in a van. Or maybe a truck?

"Let me out!" he shouted, crawling away from the double doors at the back and slamming his fists against the panel in front of him, where the driver and passenger were sitting. "Who the hell are you?! Hey!"

There was no response, just as the van took a sharp turn to the right and he fell over, bumping against the side wall. "Ouch," he grumbled, rubbing his shoulder, where his backpack was still attached to his back. He rolled back onto his hands and knees, leaning his body against the wall and finally turning to sit down. He raised his legs until his feet were flat on the floor and used them as an anchor at the next sharp turn. Thankfully it was effective, and so he held tight until after about fifteen minutes, he felt the van come to a stop, and the engine being switched off. Immediately he got up on his hands and knees and faced the doors, getting up into a crouch. He heard a click and squinted as the doors opened. He was about to make a leap at whoever had opened it and tackle them to the ground when he saw who it was and was startled to a stop. "Carlos?"

"It's my dad's van," Carlos said sheepishly. "Sorry." Then as he opened the doors wider, James caught sight of whom else was there; Jett and Lucy, both standing with their arms folded. And Camille too, hands daintily perched on her hips.

"What the . . ?"

"Hiya!" Camille chirped. "I bet you're pretty confused right now."

"What is going on?!" James demanded, finally jumping out of the van. "Seriously. What the fuck? Is this some kind of prank because it's not funny, you freaked me out."

"We're sorry, okay?" Lucy said with a slight roll of her eyes. "Look, we'll explain once we get inside."

"Inside? Oh." He then finally caught sight of their surroundings; they were standing in the woods on fallen leaves and twigs, beside them a tall old house. Well, a fragment of a house; it was badly burned, some walls or pieces of the roof broken away entirely, some windows broken through, others dusty and grimy. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Like I said, once we're inside. Come on." Lucy led the way and walked up the steps to the front porch. Jett, Carlos and Camille followed and James, unsure of what else to do, followed after them inside the house. The hallway inside was dusty, some leaves from the wood outside having blown in through the windows. James followed them to the left into what he guessed was the living room at some point; he could tell by the burnt old fireplace. However, there was some newer, unburned furniture in there too; tattered and worn, but it had clearly been placed there not too long ago. Lucy threw herself down onto one of the couches, Jett and Camille sitting beside her while Carlos sat on the other. "Have a seat," he said, patting the space beside him. James did as he was asked, hoping that now he could finally, finally get some answers.

"So, um . . ." Carlos clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs and biting his lip. "It's hard to know where to start."

"I'll think of a way," Lucy chuckled, leaning forward. "So, James. Been getting headaches lately?"

"Uh . . . yeah."

"Uh huh. Blackouts?"

"Yes—"

"And when did it start? After you'd been bitten?"

"How did you know that?"

"When did you get bitten? Was it before you came to Sherwood?"

"No, it was last week . . ."

"Okay." Lucy turned to Jett and Camille. "So we know the master is here, if the bite happened here."

"Master? What master?"

"Okay, listen." Camille put her hand out to shush Lucy and said, in a slightly gentler voice, "You've heard of werewolves, right?"

"Sure, everyone has. Wait. Woah." James snorted. "You're kidding me. You really expect me to believe—"

"It's true, James." A hand grasped his wrist tightly; a hand with claws and thick dark hair growing up the arm. Numbly, James tilted his head back up and looked at Carlos' face; his nose had widened, brow furrows, teeth sharpened and eyes a bright gold. "Just look at me. And look at them."

James looked up; Lucy and Jett had changed to look the same. Only Camille looked ordinary. "Oh my god . . . oh g-god . . ."

"Don't be afraid, James," Camille urged, walking over and kneeling in front of him. "It's not like the movies; they're not monsters. They can control themselves' on a full moon it's a little more difficult but not one of them has ever killed anybody, never even hurt anybody."

"Unlike someone else in this room," Jett cut in, earning a smack on the shoulder from Lucy. "Ouch! I was just trying to find a way to lead into it."

James blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Look, James . . . this isn't easy to say. But, um." Camille cleared her throat hands clasped rightly together as she looked up into his eyes and said, "Mr Bitters, and the caretaker . . . it was you."

James froze, staring at her blankly. "N-no." He felt the room starting to spin again, his stomach suddenly churning, his chest tightening. "No—"

"Listen, James, it wasn't your fault—"

"Y-you said werewolves don't kill or hurt people, you said they can control themselves—"

"But you're not a werewolf, listen to me."

James stopped, frowning. "Not . . . then what am I?"

Camille turned to look over her shoulder at Lucy. Lucy sat up a little straighter, expression blank as she said, "It's called a kanima. Ever heard of it?"

"No."

"It forms the same way, being bitten by a werewolf. But the body that's been bitten rejects the bite and turns the victim into a kanima. This gross, snake monster. It's usually caused by some kind of emotional struggle or torment. Have you had any . . ?"

"No, no. I've been fine . . ."

"Hmm. Well, either way, we're not sure how you became a kanima, but you have. And another downside to becoming one of those is that according to legend, while werewolves will seek an alpha, and a pack of companionship, a kanima seeks a master. Somebody is controlling you."

". . . . But why?" James knew if he were to stand right now, his legs would never hold him. He was too shaky.

"We don't know for sure, but we were wondering if it had something to do with the killings from a couple of months ago." This time it was Jett who spoke. "Not too long ago, there were a series of murders in Sherwood. Nine people. First there was a girl from our school, then a tourist, and a waiter down at the local diner. After that there was this weird old veteran, a boy visiting home from college and a police officer. Then another police officer, a doctor from the hospital and some woman who worked in the pharmacy . . . they all had their throats cut. Not like an animal, though. A person did it. We didn't know how many more people they were planning on killing, but then there was this storm . . . a really bad one, caused a bit of a forest fire and everything. And after that there were no more killings. We're not sure if that was a coincidence or not . . ."

"Basically, whoever your master is, they're controlling you and making you do these things," Camille explained. "They're taking over your mind. And thinking back, those dizzy spells you had, that's what they were. Now that you know what's causing them, you might even be able to fight them off. You need to find an anchor, focus on it and drive anything else out of your mind. That's what these guys do on full moons."

"Okay . . . okay." Hands pressed together in front of his face, James slowly nodded. "Do you have anything more to tell me? Because I do have a couple of questions, this is kind of overwhelming."

"Sure, ask away!" Carlos chirped, patting him hard on the shoulder and making him jump.

"Okay. Who bit me?"

"We don't know his name, but he was a wolf from out of town." Lucy smiled grimly. "That's actually why our alpha isn't here; he's dealing with that crisis. We found him dead, his throat cut."

"Like the nine," James said, filling in a blank space he was sure they had already figured out.

"Yeah, like the nine."

"Okay . . . Camille." She looked up at him, finally getting to her feet. "You didn't flash teeth like they did . . . if you're not a werewolf—"

"Oh, right! I forgot completely." She perched on the arm of the couch, leaning on his shoulder. "See, werewolf packs always have an alpha and a few betas, that's those guys, but some packs also have an advisor. A druid."

"You're a druid?"

"Sort of. I'm in training; see, the pack's alpha is a little too old to have wanted me as his advisor. His advisor is my mentor. So I help these guys when they need it, but I'm not the official advisor, I'm more of an intern . . ."

"Okay. And who are the alpha and the advisor?"

"Oh, right. Almost forgot." Camille grinned. "Mr Rocque and Kelly Wainwright, the school's guidance counsellor."

"The chemistry teacher?" James squeaked.

"I know, shocking. But he's a good leader. Strict, but good. He keeps us in shape," Jett chuckled. "Oh, there's one more thing. You'd do best not to tell your family about this. And don't let them find out."

"Well, duh."

"No man, especially your family. There's something else you should know."

"Oh, something else, great." But he was immediately intrigued.

"Your family are known hunters. Monster hunters."

James' hands dropped to his side. "What—"

"Yeah, up until your generation, it looks like. Because your mom's generation were in on it, and all before them. I guess she retired and never told you or your brother about it."

"That's . . . there's no way."

"There is every way. Your family used to live here, right?"

". . . Yeah."

"It's understandable that this would be the most unbelievable thing for you to hear . . . but trust us on this one. Gustavo is older than us; he'd know more about it and could tell you more. He could probably tell us all more."

"Gustavo . . . huh." Despite the hundredth bombshell that had just been dropped, James laughed. "I bet he loves you guys calling him by his first name."

"Oh he does, he does." Jett laughed too. "Listen, we'll talk to you more about this at school tomorrow. Right now I think we'd better drop you home . . . it's a lot to take in. But don't worry; we're going to work together to find out who's doing this to you, we'll make sure you don't kill anyone else."

"Thank you . . . I'll help you guys too. I hope I can."

They all stood up and left the burned out house, walking back towards the van. "Here Jett, you drive this time, I'll sit in the back with James until we get to his place," Carlos announced, throwing the van keys to Jett. "It was super crowded on the way here anyway."

"Sure," Jett shrugged, unlocking the van and getting in the driver's side. Carlos opened the back doors of the van and hopped inside, James following suit. Lucy gave them both a cheeky little wink before slamming the two doors shut. A minute or two later the engine started up and they drove off.

"Listen, James?"

"Yeah?" James sat and rested his back against the wall, looking across at Carlos.

"Don't tell Logan about any of this. Please."

Surprised by the urgency in his voice, James nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"He's my best friend, I've been like this for a couple of years now and I've never told him, I don't want him to know . . . it would scare him. I don't want to scare him away from me."

"Don't worry Carlos, my lips are sealed," James reassured him, smiling kindly at him.

"Thank you," Carlos replied with a grin. "I really appreciate it."

"If you don't mind me asking, who did change you? Was it Mr Rocque?"

"No. Actually, it was Jett. He'd just been changed the week before, he's always had a little bit of an issue with his anger and I guess it got the best of him. But after that we banded together and became good friends. It was an outsider that bit Jett; one of Gustavo's old rivals. Gustavo got rid of him and took us in as his betas."

"Oh . . . that was nice of him. And Lucy?"

Carlos chuckled. "Also Jett. Their first time was on a full moon."

"Yikes."

"I know." The van slowed to a stop and the doors opened. "This is your stop, Diamond," Jett announced with a grin, stepping side and bowing. "We'll see you tomorrow! Get inside and sleep on it, and try to keep your mind clear."

"Thanks, Jett." James grabbed his backpack and climbed out of the van, waving to the two boys and walking up the path to the front door. He unlocked the door and walked inside, shutting it and re-locking it firmly behind him. Couldn't take any chances.


"Mom, I'm home!" Kendall called, shutting the door and kicking off his shoes, hanging his jacket up on the coat rack.

"Hi, sweetie! Dinner's almost ready."

"Great, thanks! I'm just gonna leave my stuff in my room." He walked up the stairs and into his room, taking off his backpack and throwing it onto his desk. He left his bedroom again and walked into the bathroom, unbuttoning his jeans. After relieving himself he walked to the sink and washed his hands thoroughly, glancing up at his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the chill outside, his nose pinked. However as he stared, he noticed something strange. His eyes were very red. As he gazed closer, he saw them darken, get larger, as they began to bulge and burst open and two clawed hands burst from his face—

"Kendall!"

Mrs Knight sprinted up the stairs, hearing the hysterical scream and crash coming from the bathroom. She forced the door open to see her son curled up on the floor, hands cut and bloody, staining his hair and clothes as he scratched his face, his hair, his arms and legs. The mirror was smashed to pieces. "Sweetie, what have you done?!" she cried, kneeling down and taking the sobbing Kendall in her arms. His blood stained her blouse but she simply held him closer, cradling him and kissing his head. "Shh, it's okay honey, calm down . . ."

"I c-can't remember why I broke it . . ."

"I know, I know . . ."

"I don't know what's happening to me."

"It's the stress, sweetie. It's not your fault."

"I keep having nightmares . . ."

"They'll go away, with time. Are you sure you don't want to see a professional about it?"

"No, no. I'm okay . . . I'm hungry."

"Let's bandage you up and get dinner finished."

Kendall nodded, cleaning the blood from his hands and keeping his eyes firmly away from the mirror.


Lunchtime and James was in the hallway with his new sort-of pack; Lucy, Jett, Carlos and Camille. Jett stood casually with his arm around Lucy's waist, while Camille stood beside them and Carlos leaned on James' shoulders. "I just wish we knew more," James sighed. "I know nothing about any of this, except what you've told me . . . I wish we had more information, more knowledge."

"Mr Rocque's usually in his classroom at this time, why don't you go and ask him?" Lucy suggested. "It's you who needs it more than we do."

"Okay . . . okay. I can do that." James left the group and walked to the chemistry classroom. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, opening it and peering inside. He cleared his throat anxiously as Mr Rocque looked up from his desk. "Mr Rocque?"

"What is it? I take it the pack spoke to you then?" Mr Rocque said sharply, shuffling his papers and standing up.

"Yeah, they did . . . but we don't know as much as we'd like to and I was wondering if you'd have any—"

"No, I don't. I don't have time to speak to you." He strode past James, their shoulders bumping a little painfully.

"But, sir—"

"Look, I'm not in the mood to talk right now. If you want to send one of the others along to talk to me I'd be happy to but right now, I'm interested in talking to a Diamond, not you or any other. Got it?" And he stormed out of the room, leaving James standing there a little stunned. He watched the open doorway, surprised to see a woman appear at the door, arms folded as she gave him a sad little smile. "I'm sorry about him."

"O-Oh . . ."

"He doesn't mean to be rude," the woman at the door said, glancing after where Mr Rocque had gone with a forlorn sigh. "I hope you understand that. It's just . . ."

"Why is he?" James asked, walking towards her.

"You heard him talking about the Diamonds . . . did the pack take you out to that old house?"

"They did."

"Well, that used to be the Rocque family home. A family of werewolves, you see. And it was burned in an attack by hunters . . . he was the only survivor, only because he wasn't home at the time. The rest, a huge gang of them, all burned to death."

". . . By my family." He felt queasy suddenly.

"Yes, by your family. If I could tell you who I would, but I'm not too sure. I don't think he is either. The Diamonds left town after that; I don't know if it was to escape his anger or because the fire wasn't exactly according to their plan. I know very little about hunter families and what rules they live by."

"That's so awful. I had no idea . . ."

"I know he'll come around, he just needs a bit more time to think about it." She smiled. "Don't worry."

"I'm guessing you're Ms Wainwright, aren't you?"

"Oh, call me Kelly! But yes, I am. The pack's official advisor. Camille's explained all that to you already, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, she has." He suddenly spotted Carlos in the doorway behind Kelly, waving at him. "Oh . . ."

"You two talk away, I'm off to find Gus and see where he's gone to," Kelly chuckled, waving to them and walking back up the corridor.

"She's sweet, huh?" Carlos said with a smile. "She's letting us use her office to talk; we're having a meeting there now."

"Okay, let's go then." They walked together down the hallway, Carlos bouncing along in his usual energised state. They were just turning the corner around which Carlos said Kelly's office was when Logan appeared beside them.

"Where are you guys going?" he asked, a touch of tension in his voice.

"Nowhere, Logie. I'm just showing James something." Carlos held James firmly by the arm and steered him away from Logan and around the corner. "I'll catch you later!"

James glanced back at Logan just in time to see him storming off with his hands clenched at his sides. "I feel really bad for lying to him, but it's for the best," Carlos siad forlornly, as they reached the door of the counsellor's office. "Okay, let's head in." He opened the door and James followed him inside.

Camille and Lucy were sitting on the couch by the side wall of the office, while Jett was slouched back in Kelly's chair with his feet perched up on her desk. Carlos sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, while James sat in the other. "So, what are we here to talk about?" James asked.

"We want to talk a little about who your master could be," Jett said, putting his feet down and leaning forward on the desk. "There is this trick werewolves have to try and recover a person's memory . . . trouble is none of us have ever really used it and we don't want to risk doing it wrong. Plus according to Gustavo a kanima has no memory of their transformation, so it would do no good."

"So what does it take to be a kanima's master?" James asked them.

"Physical contact is all it takes," Camille said, crossing one leg over the other. "It's easier for it to be done while you're in kanima form, but it is possible in human form too. But they have to know what they're doing, there's a trick to it in human form . . . unfortunately that's all we know. Kanimas are a rare phenomenon, so we don't have a huge amount of information and not many people have experience dealing with them."

"Okay . . . so what else do you know?"

"We know they're fast and strong in their changed form, like a werewolf," Lucy said. "But because they've been transformed unwillingly they don't have any of those traits in human form, unlike us. They have venom in their claws; it causes temporary paralysis from the waist down. Their mind subconsciously mimics that of the master's; in other words things the master loves or hates or is afraid of might be reflected in the kanima's behaviour."

"That's interesting . . . that's probably the most useful information in terms of finding out who it is," James mused.

"I think so too. That's our best bet until we know more." The bell rang out and Lucy sighed, getting to her feet. "Back to class we go. We can talk another day."

"Hey James, before you go." Jett got up and walked around the desk, leaning against it in front of where James was sitting. "There's a recital on for the music club after school tomorrow, Lucy's going to be playing a song. She's got a great voice, but anyway, I was wondering if you'd be willing to help out backstage?"

"Oh . . . what would I be doing?"

"Nothing fancy, mostly making sure the place is tidy, making sure all the equipment is in the right place, giving people their cue to go on stage. It's basic. It'll be fun, I'll be there too."

"Sure . . . okay. That sounds fine. After school tomorrow?"

"Yep, in the theatre! Don't be late!" And patting James on the shoulder, Jett strode out with his arm looped around Lucy's shoulders. Carlos and Camille got up too, and James followed them out of the room.

The following day James went to the theatre as instructed, seeing that almost all of the seats were already full. He spotted several people who he knew weren't students or teachers; they must've been local townspeople coming along to see. Or maybe students' parents?

"Mr Hawk, hi!" James greeted, surprised to see his boss and his partner sitting there. "I didn't expect to see you here . . ."

"Oh, we're a huge fan of the arts program at this school, we go and see the play every year and go to all the recitals," Ms Collins laughed, waving at him. "It's to support our local places, you know? It's nice to do."

"That's true, that's true. Anyway, enjoy the show!" James walked past them and further down the steps, spotting some other people such as Mr Rocque, some other teachers, Carlos and even Beau, sitting with Camille and Mercedes. He did not greet him, and slipped behind the door which led to the backstage area.

"James, you made it!" Jett greeted cheerfully, going to him. "Lucy's just getting ready now, she's fifth on. Let me show you the ropes."

Jett showed James the various tasks he was supposed to do throughout the recital; mostly checking equipment and, like he'd said the day before, keeping the space tidy so nobody would trip or be hindered by anything. The first performer, much to the dismay of his ears, was a group of drummers. He shoved his iPod headphones into his ears and resumed his work, sitting with his back against the wall and relaxing between tasks. Maybe he was a little unappreciative of the arts or whatever, but he was perfectly happy simply working while deaf to the world.

It was when Jett patted his shoulder and said something about Lucy that James was stacking up some boxes of brass instruments against the wall. He nodded shortly and went back to his stacking, not paying too much heed. If Lucy and the others were going to be working with him, he'd probably have many more opportunities to hear her play.

Then suddenly James' cheeks began to flush unexpectedly, face heating up. At first he panicked, immediately expecting it to be the master trying to control him, but this strange sensation . . . all that was strange about it was its sudden appearance. He did recognise this feeling, this strange tingling in his stomach, the slight quickening of his breath and the overwhelming heat of his cheeks and dryness of his mouth . . . it was arousal. He thought about soft blond hair and smoky green eyes and smooth pale skin and he wanted it all, he wanted all of it . . .

He looked up, turning towards the stage. He saw Lucy sitting on a stool and playing her guitar, mouth moving as she sang. What he didn't expect to see was Kendall beside her, chiming in every now and again. He watched him; observed how he seemed to glow, radiate a beautiful light from the stage. Fuck. He wanted him. He wanted all of him. He wanted to rip that T-shirt off and pin him to the floor . . .

Then the song ended, the audience cheered, and James blinked, feeling his cheeks cool down suddenly. What . . ?

He stepped back into the shadows as Kendall and Lucy skipped off past him, taking no notice of him. He watched Kendall as he left, eyes on his back, on his hips, his legs and everything in between. He was hot, sure. Absolutely. But he didn't feel the heat from before, that compulsive desire. Where did it come from?

He made his way out form backstage, seeing Jett standing, to his surprise, in the aisle by the wall with Carlos, who looked a little bit dazed. Upon seeing him, Jett quickly beckoned for him to follow out the back door of the theatre, back out into the school corridor. He quickly did so, casting one more quick glance over his shoulder before shutting the door after him.

"You felt it too?" he asked as soon as the three were alone. Why else would they be gathered together like that?

Jett nodded. "Don't tell Lucy, man . . . I'm still a little dazed."

"Dazed about what?"

The two jumped and spun around to see Logan standing behind the, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Hey, Logan," James greeted with a sheepish grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Science club. What's going on? Why is Carlos dribbling?"

"Did you hear the way he sang?" Carlos mused, eyes glassed over as he leaned back against the wall with a wide smile. "Wow . . . he's like an angel. Angel Knight, huh? Hehe . . ."

James pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed as Logan exclaimed, "Kendall Knight? Are you fucking kidding me, Carlos? Him, really?"

Jett smacked Carlos sharply in the back of the head, causing him to blink quickly a few times and straighten up. U-Uh, it's not what it looks like . . ."

Shaking his head, Logan turned on his heels and hurried away, one hand keeping his beanie firmly on his head. Carlos chased after him, calling in distress that it really wasn't what it looked like.

"Those two," Jett sighed, folding his arms. "So listen, what went on in there?"

"It was like you said, don't you see?" James, upon coming up with this new theory, was a little more excited than he was proud to be. But he kept going. "Like you said, the mind of the master is reflected in mine. That lust for Kendall? Hello? It's obviously Beau. Beau is the master!"

"Uh, wake up man. I felt it too, remember? And trust me, I'm a ladies' man, it wasn't normal for me."

"Well . . . still. Don't you think there's a chance? I mean, what I felt was really intense. It would make sense for his boyfriend to feel that way about him."

"Hmm . . . it's no news to you that I can't stand that bastard, so this news isn't exactly going to devastate me." Jett grinned. "But we don't know for sure. We should talk to Carlos and the girls about it. Once Carlos calms down Miss Priss, that is."

"Hey, don't be mean," James chuckled. "But yeah, we need to talk about it with them. Why don't you gather them up once the recital is over, and come over to mine?"

"Sure, I can do that. You're heading home?"

"Yeah, there's something I want to check out. You'll cover for me?"

"No problem. See you in a bit!"

James left the school and walked home quickly, going straight up to his room when he got inside and retrieving his laptop form under the desk. He booted it up and opened Google, before sitting with his hands folded in front of his face, frowning at the glare from the screen. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for. Something to explain Kendall's strange singing . . . he hadn't even heard it, but the effect had only lasted throughout the song, that had to be the cause. At last he straightened, up, cracked his knuckles and typed in, singing monsters.

The first page (or three pages) that came up related to Greek mythology; sirens. Sea creatures who sang in order to seduce men and lure them off their ships and into the sea to drown. Nice, nice. But the question persisted at him. Were they real? If werewolves were real, why couldn't sirens be? But sirens were women, according to each page he'd clicked on . . . Kendall wasn't. So could he really be one?

Then he thought of his strange dreams of Kendall shrieking, his odd behaviour before the caretaker's body turned up by the ice rink. And he typed in monsters followed by foresight and screaming. And with that, after a few YouTube videos of monster screams (which he quite obviously had no interest in) his search took him to banshees, of Celtic lore. Women who wept and wailed for the dead, screaming in grief. Again, all women. There didn't seem to be any creature who matched those abilities and wasn't female. Maybe he was something else that Google hadn't heard of. Maybe he wasn't even anything, and it was all in his head. But he hadn't imagined the effect Kendall had on him, on everyone . . . how could it be explained?

A knock on the door startled him and he shut his laptop, going downstairs and answering the door to the others. "Hey guys, come on in," he greeted, leading them into the living room. "Need anything?" They all refused, and so they sat down in a group and began to ponder what had happened at the recital.

"So it didn't affect either of you?" James checked with Lucy and Camille.

"Not a bit, we were both fine," Lucy said with a shake of her head. "So, Jett told us you think Beau is the master?"

"I do, definitely." However, he saw the expressions on the girls' faces and said, "You don't?"

"Look, James, it's definitely a possibility but I feel like you're taking it personal," Camille said kindly. "You and Jett, neither of you like him. And you two and Carlos may buy into this but we don't . . . sorry."

"But, he—"

"He's a sleaze, we know, but that doesn't mean he's the master. It could've been anyone in that theatre."

"At least give my theory a chance," James pleaded. "One chance."

"I think he's really on to something here," Jett cut in encouragingly, patting his back and nodding firmly.

Camille frowned to herself for a moment and played with the ends of her curly hair. "Well . . . I do have an inkling of an idea. What if you had a chance to spend some time with Beau and keep an eye on him, and how he behaves around you? That might give it away."

"How could I do that? I'm not sure he likes me a whole lot either."

"A double date?" Camille smirked. "Maybe him and Kendall, and you and Mercedes? She's pretty, right?"

"Oh, definitely . . . but do you think it's a good idea?"

"Sure I do! She knows it'll be causal, she goes through men like dollar bills anyway. I'll give her your number. And better yet, I'll give Kendall your number, and you can arrange it!" And with that she whipped out her phone and began typing furiously. "Trust me; they've got the confidence to bring this up with you. I don't want you saying the wrong thing. And done!"

There was no denying that if James and Kendall were to go on a double date, he'd prefer that they be together. But what other choice did he have? "Sounds great. And I'll keep an eye on Beau. Although maybe . . . maybe one or two of you could be there too? Just in the background, in case anything happens."

"Absolutely, you just let us know the time and place and we'll be there," Carlos cheered. "Oh my God, you guys should go bowling! Then we can go to the arcade—"

"Chill, small fry," Jett interrupted, pressing his finger to his lips. "Though I do like that idea. Suggest it."

"Alright, I can do that!"

A moment later the door opened and Brooke walked in with Bobby. "Oh, hello," she said in surprise, stopping and smiling. "Are these your friends, James?"

"Yeah. Guys, this is my mom and my brother Bobby. This is Lucy, Camille, Carlos and Jett."

"Nice to meet you!" Brooke greeted happily. "I see there are a lot of you, but you're welcome to stay for some dinner if you like."

"Thanks, but we should probably get going," Jett replied with a smile, getting up. "I've got a lot of homework to do."

"Thanks, Ms Diamond!" they all chorused, leaving the house with loud chattering.

"They seem nice," Brooke said as she left to go to the kitchen. "I'll start dinner. Bobby, do your homework!"

"Got it, Mom!"

James walked up to his room and began his homework too, sitting at his desk and opening his books. He was working for about half an hour when his phone went off. He slid it out of his pants pocket and glanced at the screen. He squeaked when he saw the unknown number flashing up on his screen with a new message. Would it be Kendall or Mercedes? Obviously he hoped for the former, and so he crossed his fingers as he opened the message. He was in luck.

Hey! Camille gave me your number :) she mentioned something about a double date? It's Kendall btw.

Smiling to himself, he typed a quick text back; Yeah, with Mercedes, and you and Beau. Does that sound good to you?

Sounds great, we'll arrange that in a minute :P what's up with you? I saw you at the recital today, did you enjoy it?

Nothing's up with me, just homework. Boring I know. I did like it. Your singing was really great, I didn't know you sing. Sure, maybe it was a little bit of a lie, but he didn't doubt that Kendall had a nice singing voice. He didn't need to know.

Haha that's cool, that's all I'm doing too. Aww thank you! Nah I don't really, her other singer was sick so I just filled in. But I'm glad you liked it. The reaction was a little weird though, maybe they were spooked by Lucy's alternative style? Never seen people stare so intensely.

Biting his lip, he texted back, That's probably all it was. So, the date? How does bowling sound?

Fantastic, I love bowling :) how about tomorrow at about seven? We can meet there, or you can pick up Mercedes if you want to be a gentleman. You have her number?

I do. I'll see you then, can't wait!

Letting out a long breath, James pocketed his phone and slouched back on his chair. He could text Mercedes in little bit and make a plan with her. The date was bound to be fun. And maybe, if he was even luckier, Beau would turn around to be the master after all.