Okay guys...it's the chapter you've all been asking for...without further ado...

Chapter Thirteen

"Lad, you look bloody awful." My ring man told me. I seemed to get the same guy every time I fought to clean me up. He'd taken me to a backroom, where I could get all of the bandages I needed.

"Might let the bigger men keep to boxing, eh?" he said, with a piteous smile on his face. I glared at him; normally he just cleaned me up and let me leave.

"No one asked you to help me." I didn't want him to help me, but I couldn't wrap myself up. It was embarrassing, and I didn't need him rubbing loss in my face.

"Look, mate, I can only patch you up so many times before you just don't fit together anymore."

I spat, trying to clear the blood from my mouth. A tooth came out, and I couldn't help but grimace at what I must look like.

"Aw, lost a tooth? Not such a pretty boy anymore, are you?" he chuckled at his own jokes. "Your face looks as awful as that last fight."

Pissed off, I swung at him. He quickly dodged, lifted me up and threw me onto the floor. To add insult to injury, he lifted me back onto the table and wrapped the now bloody cut I had.

"All done." He stepped back to look at me. I must have looked a sight, because he sighed.

"How about a drink?" I stopped to stare at him weakly.

"Look, thanks for fixing me up, but no thanks." I answered. I just wanted to go to my room and sleep off my humiliation. He stopped me at the door.

"That's no way to thank the one friend you've got here. If it weren't for me, you'd have been out on your arse awhile before now. Consider yourself under my wing. Now, I've never bothered to ask your name, so I think I'll just call you…" he looked me up and down. "Patch. That ought to do. Now, about that drink!" he grabbed his coat.

I was frozen in my spot. "What the hell did you just call me?" He turned, amused.

"Are you deaf? Patch. After all the times I've patched you up. Now are you coming?"

"And you are?" I whispered through clenched teeth. He rolled his eyes.

"Bit edgy, aren't you? No wonder you don't have any friends." He gestured proudly at himself. "The name's Rixon! Now hurry up, there are beautiful women and liquor waiting!"

I didn't know how to feel. Part of me still wanted to slink away and sulk. The other part of me wanted to revel in the idea that I had a friend, since the first I'd arrived. Rixon, whoever he was, had decided to take me on, and I couldn't help but appreciate it. I smiled, and I followed him out of the building.

But the nickname would have to go.

I smiled at Rixon as we approached the English shores. It had been a decade since I'd been back, and to say I was excited was an understatement.

"Definitely a city boy, I see!" he'd remarked at the expression on my face.

I'd convinced Rixon to come with me to England much more easily than I'd expected to.

"Plenty of women, money, and anything else you could want!" I said. I explained to him who I was, and my situation. He pondered my words.

"Deirdre has probably spent your money. Sorry, mate. But there is the chance that I could find me'self a Nephil." He answered.

"I can promise you a Nephil, unclaimed. You'll have to wait, probably six more years?" Rixon rose his eyebrows, curious. I continued, having his attention.

"It's a wait, I know. When I left, Deirdre made sure that the woman, Elizabeth Underwood, was having a baby. I know it's a stretch, but if that baby is a boy, you'll have access to the money that he receives his entire existence. I'll make sure of it."

Rixon was quiet for a moment. "And if it's not?" I grimaced. He sighed.

"Look, if it isn't, I'll find myself someone else. Can't be hard; I've heard London is a big city. Might scratch by with a duke of my own!" Smiling, he held his hand out.

"That's it? That's all you're going to go on?" I couldn't believe my fortune in finding such an open minded friend.

"Sure. I need to get out of here as much as you do. You're so uptight, Patch. Loosen up. I said, loosen up," he said, shaking me. I'd tensed up at the nickname. Everyone called me that. Everyone. It'd spread like wildfire, especially when the reason for it was revealed by a drunken Rixon at a bar one night.

I smiled tightly. "I need my poker face, Rixon. There's nothing wrong with my seriousness." Taunts from Rixon aside, I'd given up boxing and found a niche for myself in the area of gambling. The nights that Rixon took me to the bar, I'd learned the card games, and my new quiet, cunning and shadowy persona made me a natural at them. Once he saw me earn enough, Rixon began to encourage my "social skills". The more money I made, the more friends and enemies I made. I went from unknown to famous in the commune pretty quickly.

"Yeah, until you want to get a lass into bed. I'd like to see you glare one down!" he retorted. We finished making plans to leave, and a week later, we were arriving into the port. I wanted to move quickly, so as soon as I'd found a coach, we were headed to the countryside.

Rixon had decided to wait on a Nephil until he saw what I had to offer. As for Deirdre, we'd decided that we could deal with that depending on her own actions. He was the perfect friend; he rarely questioned my motives, and for all of his brash behavior and loud mouthed-ness, he was quick-witted, intuitive, and had no problems strong-arming someone. He almost reminded me of Ezra. After my time at the commune, I had matured, much more so in ten years than I had in a hundred. I was much more intelligent, no longer so quick to speak, and the decisions that I made were no longer on impulse or out of fear. From both training and cards, I'd gained the patience of a predator, and I knew how to wait just long enough for something to go my way.

Still, I could hardly contain my excitement as we reached the farm. Someone had kindly mentioned that it was harvesting time, and that meant the Cheshvan was only weeks away. It would be like drinking wine; re-entering the body of Chauncey Langeais. I couldn't wait!

Rixon turned to me, examining my face.

"You look pretty rough. Might want to stop somewhere and freshen up."

I chuckled. "What's it to you?"

"What's it to me?" Nora cried.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to stay awake and appease Nora. I hadn't meant to say those words; they'd slipped out in my impatience of her yelling.

"Look, I'm exhausted. Why can't you see that?" I said angrily, staring at her. "Your yelling isn't going to make anything better; in fact it's just wasting time, so do me a favor and stop."

Her face turned white, and her stance went rigid.

"Stop it, right. Okay." She whispered. "Look…I don't know how unaware, or stupid, or whatever you seem to think I am, but I am none of those things!" Her lip began to quiver.

"Something's been bothering you lately. I know it has. I hardly ask you what you've been doing. I never ask, because I know that it's your business. You- you and all of your secrets! But it's been different. I don't know why you can't trust me, or…or…" Nora's eyes watered, and I immediately felt bad for my sharp words.

"Angel," I opened my arms, but she didn't walk towards me. Instead, she turned her face and stepped back, and my heart dropped. That hurt. "Okay, wait—"

"No! No, it's fine. I'm just overreacting, right? Like I always do. I'll just go; I'll be late if I don't run to work. See you, you know, when you have time to acknowledge me." And with that, she grabbed her things and ran out.

Great. I sighed and dropped my hands.I trusted Nora with my life. It was just hard for me to tell her things; I didn't want to worry her with my own problems. I wanted her to have as normal a life as possible. I'd have to make up for it later, to stop the monster that was growing inside of her; the monster that made Nora determined to find out exactly what she isn't supposed to.

Uh oh...marital problems? Hm?