Big thank you to all of you readers! I've been getting really great, positive feedback on this story and it just makes my day. Here's another chapter for you all. Hope you like it!

~Mischief's Angel

Book in hand, Stephen walked briskly down the hallway, heading down toward the library. He passed by the doorway to the living room just in time to glance in and see Max face plant into the couch with a loud, frustrated groan. Closing the book and putting his previous task on hold, he stepped into the room and walked up toward her.

"Sweetheart?" he asked, trying to suppress an amused smile.

"Why do I have so much stuff?!" she groaned into the cushion, "I can't do it. There's too much. I'll just make a castle with the boxes and act like they're supposed to be everywhere."

A warm laugh drew her attention as Max looked up at Stephen.

"Why don't you take a break for a while, my love?" he offered, sitting next to her as soon as she sat up.

"When I come back, it's all still going to be here," she sighed.

"Of course," he shrugged, "I'm not offering a solution. I'm just saying put it off and come to the library with me instead."

"And that's a good idea?"

"Absolutely not. It's terribly distracting to both of us, when we should probably be getting things done."

Max smiled at his honesty before nodding and kissing his cheek.

"Okay," she agreed, "Distraction it is...but at least let me finish this last box first. 'Kay? Then I'll come join you."

"As you wish," he smiled, standing and making his way down the hallway once more.

Turning back to the box of things sitting by the couch, Max started sorting out the miscellany of items. As she was contently focused on her task, a sudden sound made her jump. It only took a second for her to write it off as a draft of air causing the old house to creak. It made perfect sense; after all, the house tended to always make odd sounds. Still, even the memory of the odd hissing sent a chill up her spine.

Easy, girl, Max calmed herself, It takes more than a weird sound to make you jumpy. Nothing about this place has ever bothered you before.

Maybe that was the problem. No sounds or sights that this mansion could conjure had ever caused her skin to crawl like that one second of a hissing whisper had done. This was different. Her first instinct told her to forget the box and go find Stephen.

No! I'm not going to worry Stephen. I told him I could handle living here and I don't want him to think I'm jumping at shadows. He might think I'm gonna get spooked and leave. I just need a break.

No, she could handle this. Standing from her seat, she stretched and made her into the hallway, looking down toward the direction of the library. As she stepped toward it, the hissing sound seemed to echo behind her. Jumping around, she saw that there was, in fact, nothing there.

"Come on, Max!" she sighed out to herself, "Get a grip."

A few more steps…

"Margaret?"

The voice wasn't one that she recognized or ever wanted to hear again. The low slithering tone seemed to whisper her name as though it were spoken right into her ear.

"Okay, what the hell…?" she whispered, trying to rationalize what it is she was really hearing, "The house hasn't done that before."

She stepped with more purpose toward the library as soon as her brain could scream for her feet to move.

"Welcome home," the voice followed her, still speaking from right behind her, "We're going to have all sorts of fun together, aren't we?"

There was no point in turning around, Max decided. There was nothing there. It was just in her head.

By the time she stepped into the library, she quickly turned and slammed the doors, shutting out nothing. When she looked toward Stephen's desk, he was looking up from a book and staring at her oddly.

"Everything alright? Or are you not a fan of doors?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Draft caught the door. Sorry," she explained, smiling nervously.

She didn't wasted time before walking over and putting less space between them. As she approached, a chair pulled itself forward toward Stephen's gesture, waiting for her. Sitting down next to him, Max finally let herself relax a bit more.

It's almost funny, she lied to herself as she silently watched the books rearranging themselves on the desk, You're jumping at shadows caused by the nerves of living in a new place, probably.

Stephen took a deep breath and cleared his throat a bit before looking at her and speaking.

"So...if you're still interested," he offered, "Wong thinks it's a good idea for you to keep studying. I do too. After all, you seem to have a real natural connection to the mystic arts. You're certainly drawn to it enough."

"Really?" Max asked, lighting up, "You want me to keep trying?"

"I do. Wong is working with a few students at a beginner level right now. He's already told me that you're welcome to join and see how it fits."

Max's face sank just slightly.

"You mean...I wouldn't be with you?"

"Well, not at first," he admitted, turning more toward her and taking her hand, "But once you have a good base from someone more adept at teaching, then I would always be here to help you. This way you have the opportunity without waiting for me all the time. I do still have a lot of work and I'm honestly still a student myself most days."

"Okay," she nodded in understanding, "I'd be happy to have Wong teach me, but that doesn't mean I won't miss you."

"I'd honestly be a little disappointed if you didn't," Stephen smirked playfully, "And I have no doubt you'll learn fast and need my more focused attention in your studies soon."

"See, now I can't tell if that was an offer or a innuendo."

"Take it however you like, beautiful."

Max playfully rolled her eyes and smacked him on the shoulder. He smiled at her, yet, after a moment, the smile faded into a more thoughtful look as he studied her face.

"What?" she wondered.

"Maggie? Is everything alright?" he asked, noticing an odd look in her eyes.

"Everything's fine," she replied quickly, "Why wouldn't it be? I love it here."

Stephen shook his head a bit before returning his attention to his books.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "It was just a feeling."

Still feeling the chills from the hallway, Max shivered slightly and rubbed her arms. This movement immediately caught Stephen's attention.

"Cold?" he wondered.

"A little."

"I'll get you some tea," he offered sweetly, "That usually does the trick."

Before she could answer, Stephen stood and moved to walk toward the door. Without thinking, Max reacted and reached out to grab his arm at the elbow.

"Uh...I'll go with you!" she spoke suddenly, trying to explain her reaction.

"The whole point of me getting it for you is that you don't have to go," he chuckled, "It's just to the kitchen. I'll be right back."

"I know, but...I wanna walk with you," she insisted, standing up and holding onto his arm a bit more naturally, "I like being around you."

"Alright," he accepted, leaning over briefly to place a kiss on her forehead.

Don't leave me alone, Max didn't say, I'm not leaving your side.

"Margaret…"

The voice echoed in Max's thoughts as she slept. She hadn't been dreaming or awake, yet, in this sleeping state, she could still hear it. It still spoke to her.

"What do you want?!" she could hear her own voice ask.

Now, a dream seemed to fall into place around her, taking the place of the peaceful darkness before it. She found herself standing on a jagged, rocky surface in an alien looking place that she had never seen before.

"It's not what I want," the voice laughed, echoing all around her and seeming to fill the very air around her, "It's what you want...or rather what you don't want. You don't want your precious sorcerer knowing that you're afraid of ghosts, do you?"

"You're not real!" she called out, getting tired of this dream, "You're just a dream! Go away!"

"There's a good girl. It's only a dream…"

As Max turned around, she saw a brief flash of a terrifying figure, clouded in black smoke with blazing red eyes. As he laughed through sharpened teeth, she thought her heart would stop beating. As quickly as the image appeared to her, it was gone.

Max shot awake, sitting up suddenly. Her breathing was heavy and a film of sweat clung to her skin and sent chills over her body as it cooled. Looking around, her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark room. She was still laying on her side of the large bed. Slowly turning and laying back down, she saw that Stephen was still fast asleep next to her.

Good, she thought, I didn't wake him.

If she decided to tell him about her dream, it could wait until morning. For now, she didn't want to breathe too heavily, much less speak to try and wake him. She was a big girl, so she was sure she could handle a bad dream on her own. Still, she couldn't help but to snuggle in as close to Stephen as she could. He quickly becoming her source of security when she was afraid. The closer she was to Stephen, the farther away things that could harm her felt. She felt Stephen tiredly wrap his arm around her. He wasn't awake, but he must have instinctively reached out for her anyway.

It didn't take long for Max to realize that there was absolutely no chance of her getting any more restful sleep tonight. Every time she closed her eyes for more than a blink, she saw the face from her nightmare again, laughing cruelly at her as though the boogieman would to a frightened child. She just buried her face into Stephen's shirt and forced her mind to go elsewhere. There were better things she could think about, after all. She was going to be studying with Wong soon. After that, Stephen could take over and possibly even train her. The thought of what could be filled her with a bit of hope and pushed the lingering cold fear to the back of her mind. If she could learn, perhaps she could even one day help Stephen.

One thing was for sure. If she worked hard enough, she could learn the strength and discipline that it took to be like Stephen and Wong. With that power to help people, she would never have to be afraid again. After all, in her mind, Stephen wasn't afraid of anything.