

### Prequel To The Lifelight Series

### By Alina Voyce
Cover and Book design by Grainger Graphics

Copyright © 2013 by Alina Voyce

www.alinavoyce.com

The author asserts their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Also by Alina Voyce

The Lifelight Series:

Lifelights

Light Evolution

21st Century Light

This book is dedicated to fans of 'The Lifelight Series'.

However you came to these stories, your encouragement, enthusiasm and support through reviews, Facebook and website messages or from face to face feedback has often left me stuck for words, with a HUGE smile on my face.

It's difficult to say just how much you're appreciated.

I hope this helps.

Thank You

# Chapter 1

He was back. The dog walker with the potential obsessive compulsive disorder passed by the school gates... again.

Rosa Munroe studied him, switching her attention from counting the metal bars on the school's fencing. He wore a black jogging suit and a woolly hat, the latter pulled low around his face. She found him infinitely more interesting than the school fence _or_ the double mathematics that was in danger of sending her to sleep.

Even from this distance, the man more than resembled his 'best friend', an imposing Doberman Pinscher. Both creatures, man and dog, presented a picture of well-matched, sleek muscle, packed into frames built for endurance. Must be all that walking they did...

Rosa glanced at the clock hanging on the front wall of the classroom, above the teacher's desk. 2.30pm. She decided that, if he didn't have OCD, the man's life must be _really_ boring. Didn't he have anything better to do than traverse the sidewalk, never varying his route— pretty much on the hour, every hour?

When the school day finished, Rosa was out on that same sidewalk. She juggled her school books as her dad leaned over to open the passenger door of their eminently sensible, but not very exciting, Ford station wagon.

"Had a good day, Rosalyn?" Ross Munroe queried as he watched her toss her books onto the back seat, stuff her bag onto the floor, and get buckled up. He shot her a smile as he pulled into the line of traffic.

Rosa blew out a frustrated breath. There were only a handful of people, all of them adults, who still insisted on calling her by her full name.

She didn't bother answering. Instead, she scanned what view she had from the car, searching, wondering. Where was the man? Perhaps neither he nor his animal appreciated the wave of adolescent mayhem that accompanied school leaving time. She couldn't fault him. He'd probably decided to make a detour and head for somewhere more peaceful.

But she was wrong.

As her Dad pulled away from the sidewalk, man and dog walked briskly into sight. Rosa let her head turn as their car rolled past them, a captive of other slow-moving vehicles. It couldn't have worked out better.

She used the visual markers at her disposal to try and build a better idea of the man's character and story. People had always fascinated her. Like the proverbial sponge, she soaked up the sea of personality traits and quirks of dress that she came across every day. She actually found the idea of meeting someone with OCD tantalising. What would that feel like?

Disappointingly, nothing unusual drew her eye. He was just a man, probably in his mid to late thirties, about her parents' age, with only his walking regime to distinguish him from the crowd. His hair was hidden by the woolly hat, he was white, although the cold had reddened his face, and she hadn't a hope of gauging his eye colour from this distance. She couldn't even spot a recognisable logo on his clothing. They were black on black and all encompassing. Exactly the same sensible cold weather gear that every other dog walker deemed essential at this time of the year. The dog didn't have one of those ridiculous collars that a lot of 'guard' dogs wore; the sort with studded or spiked decoration— as if that somehow offered confirmation of how 'vicious' they could be, if anyone was stupid enough to approach them directly. _Yeah, right,_ Rosa thought. In her opinion, training a dog to attack someone, unless that dog was _really_ a guard dog and not just a way of intimidating the neighbours, was taking advantage of the animal's naturally loyal nature.

As their car moved steadily onwards, the man and his dog disappeared from view. Rosa twisted back round to face forward and frowned at nothing in particular.

"You okay? You're looking a bit distracted there," her dad commented. Apparently, at this speed, splitting his attention between Rosa and the road wasn't a problem.

She considered ignoring him, but something tugged at her conscience. It really wasn't her dad's fault that he didn't know how to talk to her or what made her tick. Maybe it would have been different, if he and mom weren't quite so besotted with each other? Then again... Rosa sighed. Maybe not. She wasn't sure she was interesting enough to warrant 'getting to know her'; and anyway... why would they need to, when they had each other? Not for the first time, she wondered if her birth had been some horrible, life altering, mistake.

"Anything you want to talk about?" her dad persisted.

Glancing across at him, Rosa realised that he actually _did_ look worried by her preoccupation. Her conscience stabbed her harder. _What the hell... might as well tell him; and after all, he did ask_.

"It's nothing really. I was looking out for that man we've just passed. He's been walking his dog down this road like they were on a schedule or something. I wanted to get a closer look at him. I've never met someone with OCD."

She'd expected her dad to erupt into laughter, a reaction not uncommon when it came to something she said. The fact that he frowned deeply, his eyes jumping to the rear view mirror and then to the side mirrors came as a shock. "What makes you think he has OCD? Have you seen him before today?" he asked.

"Not that I noticed," Rosa replied. "The lessons weren't exactly holding my attention today though. I couldn't concentrate. That's probably why I noticed him. For all I know, he could have been walking past the school on a strict rotation for months."

"Hmm..." Her dad _still_ didn't deliver the expected laugh.

Rosa decided to change the subject. "What's for dinner? Will mom be home on time tonight?"

Her dad shot her an odd look. She wasn't sure what to make of his expression. "Lasagne, and not sure about your mom. As you know, Fridays can go either way. Either Mr Oran begins to wind down for the weekend, or there's a mad rush on jobs that need finishing before the office closes." He paused. "I'm sure she'll do her best to be there, Rosalyn. I know she wanted us all to have a chat tonight... about your birthday."

"But that's months away. Why would she want to talk about it now?" Rosa asked.

Her dad smiled. "You know, you've done us proud. This is your first year in middle school and you've worked hard so far. Your grades show that; you deserve a treat. Your Mom and I think your birthday will be the perfect time to do something special. Have a think about it. Maybe a party or a trip somewhere? That's what we want to talk about... get some ideas on the table."

Rosa didn't say anything. She hadn't seen _this_ coming.

After a few moments of silence, her dad turned to talk to her again. His voice sounded strained. "Look, I'm sure Mom will send us a message if she's going to be late. We'll know, one way or the other, by the time we get home."

"Yeah, okay." Rosa breathed out the words before reaching into her school bag and fishing out her phone. Pushing the attached earplugs into place, she cocooned herself in music for the duration of the journey. Houston traffic was a nightmare at this time of day. No way was she making conversation for the next hour. She had a lot to think about.

# Chapter 2

Pushing open her bedroom door, Rosa decided on an evening of duvet, warm pyjamas and the contents of her secret stash.

One thing her dad _had_ got right; she worked hard in school. Today had been the exception to the rule, and she blamed double Math and a strange need to see _them_ for that.

She drew a novelty tin from under her bed and cocooned herself under layers of cotton and down.

Looking down at the tin in her hands, she rubbed her fingers across its familiar, paint embossed surface. Shaped like a red, British, double-decker bus, with the words _Walkers Shortbread_ emblazoned across the top and sides, the tin had been a gift from her mom on return from a business trip in Scotland. Rosa had been seven at the time, and she'd adored the brightly coloured offering from the instant she'd unwrapped it. Not only was it eye catching, it had been filled with a buttery treat far removed from the cookies she was used to. It had also meant that her mom had _thought_ about her, even though she was miles from home and busy dealing with an unfamiliar workplace.

Easing off the well-used and slightly twisted lid, Rosa pulled out a bag of Hershey's Kisses and her journal. Opening both, she popped a candy into her mouth, reached for the pen on her bedside cabinet and started to craft her daily entry. It was never a direct transcription of her activities, more a rambling account of her thoughts and feelings. Today, descriptions of the man and his dog featured heavily, along with a large chunk of supposition regarding who he was and where he'd been heading.

It was dark outside by the time she'd finished, but with the drapes pulled closed, it felt cosy. Rosa's room was at the back of the house, overlooking the yard. It wasn't a huge space, but relatively private. Which was a good thing; especially when _they_ came to visit.

As if responding to the direction of her thoughts, the lightest of taps sounded. It came from behind the drapes covering her bedroom window. Immediately, Rosa felt her heart kick into a pounding rhythm. As her body tingled with excitement, she scrambled from under the covers and threw back the material obscuring her view of the night sky. Light pollution negated the possibility of seeing any but the brightest of stars, but even they paled into insignificance next to the brightly glowing colours that seemed to be trying to press their way through the glass. It was as if they were as eager for Rosa's touch as she was for theirs.

Easing open the window, Rosa watched as four balls of light flew into the room. Each one was about the size of a quarter; one red, one blue, one green and one gold. She waited for a moment, her eyes scanning the darkness outside, but nothing more emerged from the surrounding gloom. Feeling slightly disappointed, she left the window ajar and let the drapes fall back into place. By the time she turned to face her bed, the lights were floating above the still opened pages of her journal. It almost looked as if they were reading it.

"So... where're your friends tonight?" she whispered, wandering over to sit on the bed and watch how the lights seemed to spotlight certain sentences. Every now and then they moved closer to the page, their movements incorporating a tiny left to right sway. The more she watched them, the more it really did look as if they were reading what she'd written. Eventually, they even hovered at the very edge of the journal, until she took the hint and turned to the next page.

"I'm glad you came tonight," Rosa continued, as at ease with the lights as she would have been with her school friends. Not that any of her school friends knew about them... her 'Lifelights'. She wasn't sure where that name had come from; it had just popped into her head one day, but it fit... and that was all that mattered. "Dad said something odd tonight. He said I'd made him and Mom proud... can you believe that?"

The lights stopped hovering over her journal and moved closer, peppering her shoulders with soft, heated touches. It was as if a low-voltage current passed between them; not enough to cause pain, but enough to renew their connection, in a way that felt entirely natural. The hairs on her skin rose in response. She turned her head, smiling as she watched them slide from her shoulder and along her arm, until they rested in the palm of her right hand. The feel of them there was slightly ticklish.

Sighing, Rosa lay down on top of her bed, careful to keep her hand outstretched, maintaining the contact with the Lifelights. Despite her best efforts, the change of position disturbed them. Dismayed, she watched as they drifted higher, until they hovered just below the ceiling. From there, they made their way over to the bedroom door, where they tapped against the wood with muted insistence.

"What _are_ you doing now?" Rosa murmured. The tapping continued. "You don't think I'm letting you out of here, do you? How would I explain it to Dad if he saw you? No, get back here."

They didn't fly back to the bed as she'd hoped. Instead, they lowered their position until, too late, she realised their intent.

As they drew level with the door handle and lock, there was a faint 'popping' sound, a small flash, and they were gone.

"No!" Rosa shot off the bed and had the door open in seconds. "You _did not_ just do that!" Even in her panic, she remembered to keep her voice low... but if they went downstairs... Her breath shuddered and her pulse raced as she tried to think of a plausible excuse; one her parents would believe. Maybe she could pass them off as a science project that got out of hand, or the latest 'must have' craze – remote controlled lighting?

Luckily, the lights hadn't gone downstairs, where she was fairly sure her dad was. They were making their way along the upper landing at a relaxed pace. They moved with leisurely grace, casting patterns on the walls and ceiling. If she hadn't been so stressed, Rosa might even have enjoyed the sight. She padded along behind them, miserably aware that they were still out of her reach and trying to think how she could herd them back into her bedroom. Her sense of horrified urgency increased when they drew level with her parents' bedroom... and slipped inside.

Her heartbeats sped up as she hesitated outside the door. She angled her head, trying to gauge where her dad might be. Silence greeted her. There wasn't even the sound of the television or muted movements from the kitchen. _Maybe he fell asleep on the sofa? He looked tired at dinner..._ Rosa's eyes jumped to the bedroom door in front of her. _Sleep... oh no, please don't say..._ Feeling sick with nerves, she pushed the door wider, the sound of its bottom edge, brushing across the thick carpet, seemed inordinately loud. Stepping through the gap, her gaze went straight to the king size bed, with its luxurious red velvet comforter and piles of matching cushions in complimentary tones.

A sigh of relief ghosted from her lips when she saw that everything was still in place. There was no mass beneath the covers, no deep, rhythmic breathing from an exhausted parent.

Rosa searched the room for signs of the Lifelights. They were nowhere to be seen. Then she realised that the door of the ensuite was standing ajar. She could see the shadows cast by coloured lights in the space beyond.

"Get back here, _now_!" she whispered, "Do you want my parents to catch us? Dad could come in at any minute and Mom's due back soon... first thing she'll do is head for the shower!"

Rosa had always had the idea that the Lifelights could understand her, but there was precious little evidence of that now. With growing anger, she started across the room, determined to get her point across. As she came within a metre of the ensuite door, _eight_ lights zoomed out of the tiny room, spiralling around her with an air of carefree abandon.

Just great!

Rosa's annoyance increased. "And where did _you_ spring from?" she asked, wagging a finger at the second set of lights that had appeared next to the first. Of course, there was no verbal reply, although the four new lights _did_ drop low enough to briefly buzz the top of her head before flying out of reach again. She scowled up at them. They were almost identical to the first four, except that instead of a gold light, there was a silver.

Marching into the ensuite, she saw that the window was open. Only a couple of inches, but Rosa knew from experience that this was enough. _Well that explains how the others got in,_ she thought, turning back to glare at the Lifelights.

They'd floated over to her mom's dressing table, and seemed particularly interested in the family photos that were arranged on either side of the central mirror. Watching them hover around one picture in particular, Rosa got an idea.

Stepping further into the ensuite, she quickly opened up the linen closet and pulled out a pillowcase. Slipping back into her parents' room, she saw that the Lifelights were still clustered around the same family photo.

Excellent.

Approaching them with care, Rosa kept the pillowcase behind her back and reached out a hand towards the photo. Picking it up, she was pleased to see that the Lifelights seemed loath to switch their attention to one of the other framed photos. They followed her hand, spotlighting the image she held, of her family and one of her friends picnicking on the beach, in bright, shifting colours.

"I remember this day really well," Rosa said, deliberately keeping her voice to a low, calm, whisper. "It was my tenth birthday... Mom and Dad thought it would be great to spend the day at the beach. They were right too. They even made sure I had a cake... it got covered in sand though. I remember trying to brush it clean when we got back home."

The Lifelights crowded closer, and Rosa took her chance. Whipping the pillowcase from behind her back, she shoved the photo frame inside, taking the Lifelights along with it and scrunched the end of the case closed before they had a chance to react.

Checking that the coast was clear, she slipped back into her own room, locked the door, stuffed a tissue into the keyhole and held the pillowcase out at arm's length, opening it gingerly. She didn't _think_ the Lifelights would retaliate... but she wasn't stupid enough to think that was guaranteed.

Nothing happened.

After several moments, Rosa brought the case nearer and peeked inside. Immediately, as if they'd been waiting for her to do just that, the Lifelights flared even brighter and rushed upwards towards her face. With a squeak of shock, Rosa flung the case across the room, where it landed with a thump on her bed, spilling the Lifelights and photo across the covers. Thankfully the frame appeared unharmed, but the Lifelights seemed to almost fizz with displeasure.

"Hey, no need to get antsy! It was _you_ who decided to go exploring and refused to listen to me. Do you _want_ my parents to see you?" Rosa groused. "Geez, my dad's a science geek and my mom works for Oran Industries; who just happen to specialise in alternative energy. Do you know what's likely to happen if either of them get a glimpse of you? Dad would go into experimentation mode and Mom would probably run straight to her boss and tell him she's made the discovery of the century!"

Feeling depressed, just at the thought of that, Rosa abruptly sat down on the edge of her bed. She leaned forward, to rest her elbows on her knees and cradle her head in her hands. "I wish you really _did_ understand me," she whispered. "Don't you get it? I don't want _anyone_ seeing you guys. It's too dangerous. I don't think I could take it if you had to leave, or worse... got taken away. And there are people who would do that; I know there are. If only you knew... you probably couldn't have picked a worse place to settle. I mean, come on, Texas? The heart of America's energy industry? Which one of you thought _that_ was a good idea?"

As expected, there was no reply, although she did feel warmth along her shoulders and neck. Twisting her head round, Rosa saw that the Lifelights had settled along the top of her shoulders. She gave them a weak smile. "Not that I'm complaining— much. I love the fact that you picked me to get friendly with. I just don't want you to end up regretting it."

The Lifelights flickered, their heat intensifying. It sank into her tensed muscles, until she had no option but to relax.

From that point on, tiredness became the enemy. As hard as she tried, Rosa couldn't keep her eyes open for long. She was vaguely aware of hiding the photo and pillowcase in her bedside cabinet, replacing her journal and tin underneath the bed, pulling back the covers, and settling into the welcoming softness of her bed. The Lifelights had arranged themselves along the headboard. It seemed that all was forgiven.

Content, Rosa's eyelids dropped closed once again.

When she woke in the morning, the Lifelights were nowhere to be seen.

# Chapter 3

Breakfast at the weekend, traditionally, was more than a bowl of cereal or a pop-tart. The smell of pancakes greeted Rosa as she made her way downstairs. She pushed her way through the kitchen door and made herself at home on one of the stools that sat under the breakfast bar. Still in her pyjamas with a fluffy, polka dot scattered robe thrown over the top of them, the remnants of sleep turned her movements sluggish.

Her dad was the one wielding a spatula and frying pan. He turned, briefly, to send her a small smile before expertly flipping a pancake and adding it to the growing pile that were already keeping warm in the oven. Another ladle of batter hit hot metal, the hiss and bubble filling the air, along with a delicious, vanilla infused scent; and the whole process started again.

Spying a jug of orange juice and three tumblers sitting on the worktop, Rosa reached across and poured herself a glass. She took her eyes off her dad for only a minute. She'd always enjoyed the simple pleasure of watching one or other of her parents preparing a meal. It gave her a chance to watch them, without worrying that they'd get wierded out by her staring. She realised that they thought she was trying to learn how to cook, without actually showing an interest. But they were wrong. She stared because it gave her a window onto how her parents looked when completely focused on something. Something, that is, apart from each other.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Alexa Munroe entered the kitchen in a swirl of midnight blue, the robe outlining her slender figure in shining satin. She ruffled Rosa's hair as she passed, but barely paused to do so. As usual, her full attention was on Ross. She crossed to his side, slid an arm around his waist, and leaned closer so that she could peer around his shoulder.

"Yum... pancakes. Do we have some of that blueberry syrup left?"

Ross chuckled. "Had a feeling you'd be after that. It's already out, ready and waiting. Why don't you get yourself some juice while I finish off here? A couple more, and I'm done."

"Excellent idea, my love," Alexa said. After giving him a quick kiss, she turned to walk back towards the breakfast bar. Sliding onto the stool next to Rosa's, Alexa reached for the orange juice and smiled at her daughter. "You okay, cupcake?" she asked.

Rosa fought the urge to sigh. Her mother was a stunning woman. Slim, with blemish free and evenly tanned skin, beautiful dark brown eyes and blonde hair, tinged with strawberry highlights, that cascaded in a thick, long, enviably smooth curtain to the middle of her back. Unfortunately, not everything about her Mom was as perfect as her physical attributes. A case in point was her idea of how to talk to an intelligent eleven year old.

"Yeah, I'm good," Rosa replied. "Sorry I missed you last night. What time did Mr Oran let you escape?"

Her mom took a swallow of the cool, sharp, juice before answering. Her "Mmm" of approval was followed by a soft pursing of her lips as she rolled her eyes and smiled. "Oh, it was a late one last night. I may even have to go in this morning too."

"Really? But it's a Saturday... I thought we were going to the mall today? I need..."

Before Rosa could finish, her mom interrupted her. "Oh, I know cupcake, and don't you worry. If I _do_ get a call, it will only be a quick visit. Sebastian's going to England shortly; to our offices in Yorkshire. Whilst he's there, he's also hoping to meet up with a young woman he knows; a friend of the family, I think. He wants the itinerary and a list of all scheduled meetings to be finalised as soon as possible. And if I know him, that means set in concrete and wrapped in cast iron. That way he'll know exactly where he stands regarding any free time. It'll be an hour's work; tops. If you're up for it, I thought you could come with me? Then we can go on to the mall as planned."

Rosa had been to the Oran Industries' office before. She'd even met Sebastian Oran a few times. He was a man who had a reputation for being bullheaded when it came to getting what he wanted. Rosa could see that about him but, at the same time, she instinctively liked him.

Though he was probably a billionaire, Sebastian Oran struck her as someone who didn't let his wealth get in the way of things. If he wanted to meet someone, no matter who they were, prince or ranch-hand, then he'd meet them. She almost pitied this friend of his, especially if freeing up the time to meet Sebastian would be difficult for her.

Still, despite this ruthless edge to his character, Rosa liked the way he always took the time to chat with her when they met. And he did it without looking at his watch every few seconds or by making her feel like he was only doing it for politeness' sake. No... when Sebastian Oran spoke to her, he _really_ spoke to her and, more importantly, he _listened_ to her replies. Considering his position, Rosa thought that was pretty cool.

Her answer was a no brainer. "I wouldn't mind a trip to your office. It's months since I've been to Oran Industries. Do you still have those vending machines, the ones that serve amazing hot chocolate?"

"I'd forgotten about those," her dad said as he walked over to the breakfast bar. "If you do go to the office, you'll have to find a way of smuggling one back to me. It's the least you can do, in return for pancakes with blueberry syrup."

Rosa grinned across the breakfast bar at him and almost drooled over the stack of pancakes he'd placed between them. All three of them eyed each other, like bandits at a gunfight, their forks raised high, in place of revolvers. Then they lunged forward, giggling, and expertly dodged each other's cutlery, intent on securing their fair share of the feast.

_Food and family,_ Rosa thought. _My favourite daily combo... and there goes Mom's cell phone!_

# Chapter 4

The Houston headquarters of Oran Industries; a rousing hymn to the religion of modern technology. It never failed to pull at Rosa's imagination.

Which was a puzzle in itself. It wasn't as if she had a burning ambition to become an architect or an alternative energy expert— there was just something about the place that appealed to her. Maybe it was the thought of all that _science_ wrapped in a steel and glass parcel?

Thanks to her mom, Rosa had never voiced the usual questions. She knew that most visitors commented on the lack of visible solar panels or speculated on how much of the power needed to feed this building _really_ came from sustainable sources and how much from the traditional energy source of Texas— oil.

They didn't realise that Oran Industries would never allow fossil fuels to become a part of its business. They had an image to preserve. As the world's leading research facility and producer of alternative energy, the technologies they developed relied only on the power that _they_ could bring to the market. For a start, the building that housed their headquarters was one _giant_ solar panel. The huge windows that wrapped around it in shining, rainbow hued bands used photovoltaic technology to generate electricity from the sun's rays. The energy they produced was enough to power all of the lighting and electronic equipment inside the offices.

According to her mom, Oran Industries were years ahead of their nearest competitors in this field of science; both in production and application. Rosa had no reason to disbelieve her.

The windows weren't Rosa's favourite feature though. As they approached the main doors her eyes were pulled to the two sculptures suspended on either side of them. They appeared to hover over the sidewalk below, like gleaming sentinels, always on guard.

Not that they were any such thing. They were nothing more than elaborate wind turbines, constructed of ribbons of steel. The merest breeze set them swirling, in a dance of kinetic grace that mesmerised her. Works of art. The fact that they were also practical, producing yet more renewable energy for Oran Industries, was just a bonus.

As they walked into the lobby, Rosa's sneakers made barely a sound. In contrast, her mom's stylish heels tapped across the stone-tiled flooring in echoing staccato. Alexa paused only to smile at the receptionist on duty, sign Rosa in and pass across the badge that she was required to wear throughout their visit. She escorted Rosa to a bank of steel-fronted elevators that had been polished to a mirror-like shine.

Looking at their reflections, Rosa couldn't help smiling at the differences in their appearance. Jeans and a warm hoodie for her, a tailored navy blue trouser suit and white silk blouse for her Mom. She wondered what Sebastian Oran would think of his PA's casually dressed daughter. Would it annoy him that she'd invaded his ultra-smart offices?

When the elevator doors opened, Rosa was surprised to see that even their interiors were elegantly designed, with the Oran Industry mantra etched across its walls in fine italic script: _Our promise to the world— We will never rest, until the energy we consume is clean and renewable, until we leave our descendants what they deserve... a healed home... and a whole Earth._

Rosa smiled as her eyes traced the lettering. How could she have forgotten this? It was quite a commitment.

Three sharply dressed men had followed them into the elevator. No one spoke. As they were carried smoothly upwards, Rosa dropped her gaze to the floor, pretending a sad fascination with the star-like shimmer of the black tiles. They would have looked fantastic in their family bathroom.

"We're here," her mom said, as the elevator glided to a halt and the doors swished open again. The three men still said nothing. Rosa didn't think she'd like working for Oran Industries, if everyone was that unfriendly.

She was ushered past rows of sterile desks, every one of them cleared of workday clutter, to a door bearing the legend 'Sebastian Oran, CEO'. Behind this lay a room furnished with a desk, computer and phone, swivel chair, filing cabinets, an arrangement of plush seating and a coffee table. In one corner was a small work surface with a cupboard below, on top of which sat a coffee percolator.

On the other side of the room, directly opposite the door they'd entered by, was another door. It was open just wide enough for Rosa to see the room beyond. A significantly larger office, with a desk that looked _huge_ to her. That said, the man sitting behind the desk wasn't exactly small. Sebastian Oran was a man of tall, athletic build, with a Mediterranean colouring that was entirely down to his Italian mother. He was currently sitting, head bent, writing rapidly across the papers in front of him. Every now and then he glanced at the book lying open beside him. A diary, perhaps?

Rosa was pleased he wasn't looking her way. She remembered clearly that his eyes were an odd colour; they'd freaked her out the first time she'd seen them. She doubted that had changed.

Her mom followed her gaze, and shook her head. "I can't believe he's here already," she murmured. Then she turned back to Rosa. "Did you bring a book or something with you? Okay, make yourself comfy and as I said, this shouldn't take long. If you want a hot chocolate, the machine's in the main office. Turn left, keep going and you can't miss it. Right..." She took a key out of her purse, unlocked her desk and extracted a file, notebook and pencil. "See you later, cupcake," she said, closing the door of Sebastian's office behind her.

Rosa stared after her for a moment, and then plunked herself down on one of the chairs near the coffee table, with her back to the inner office and her escape hatch to hot chocolate heaven in front of her. Something to look forward to. Then, reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a notebook and pen, and settled down for a quiet hour or so. She had little faith that her mom's 'this shouldn't take long' would actually hold true, but that didn't matter. She intended to fill her time with what she loved best... writing adventures for the Lifelights, with _herself_ at the centre of it all; saving the world and humanity with her supernatural friends.

In the end she became so engrossed by the words that spilled from her imagination, that she didn't hear the inner office door open again— not until it was too late.

"Hmm... interesting. And who, exactly, are the Lifelights?"

The whispered voice, so close, caused Rosa's body to jerk with surprise. Her heartbeat thundered as she turned her head, to encounter the calm blue-grey eyes of Sebastian Oran.

# Chapter 5

"Err... oh, just something I made up. Nothing special, Mr Oran." The words rushed out, accompanied by a surge of heat that travelled over Rosa's face and neck in a wave of red-tinged discomfort. From there it swept through her body, knotting her stomach with anxiety as she debated what would cause the least suspicion; should she snap her notebook closed or act casual?

"Really? Mind if I take a look?" The former resonated with disbelief, the latter was apparently rhetorical. Rosa's notebook was plucked from her grasp with a swift, singular motion.

Her anxiety soared and she chewed down on her bottom lip. Her eyes scanned his face as he scanned the pages. He flipped the sheets of thick white paper backwards and forwards as if fascinated by every word.

She expected he'd toss the notebook back after a few moments, perhaps amused with the silly fantasies of an adolescent school girl.

He unexpectedly took a chair, seating himself immediately opposite, his eyes intent on the words she'd written. His expression was serious, filled with focused attention.

Uneasy, Rosa looked about the office, expecting to see her mom. Where was she?

As if reading her thoughts, he glanced up. "Your mother has slipped out to run an errand for me. She won't be long. Didn't you see her go?"

Rosa shook her head silently and he shrugged, sending her a small smile that she supposed was meant to be reassuring, before returning his attention to her notebook.

Rosa cleared her throat. "Please, Mr Oran, you don't have to read that, it's just a bit of fun." Her voice was husky, her nervousness easy to hear.

He reacted, raising his chin to momentarily appraise her, before again returning to reading. Her temper began to rise. Her stories were precious, private even. He had no right reading them without her permission.

Her blood began to pound and she could feel her muscles tensing. Her fingers bit into the arms of the chair that she sat in and she knew that her face was again flushing. Heat burned its way across her cheeks. _He has no right!_

_He has every right._ The unexpected words seeped from her subconscious. Like an echo of something she'd heard before. They flirted with recognition, before fading back into obscurity. Except, the description of 'words' wasn't quite right. It was closer to a sensation... soft. A moment of crystal-clear knowledge. Rosa shivered as she glanced across at the man in front of her.

Sebastian Oran hadn't moved from his seat. He was as relaxed as he'd been since he took her notebook.

Giving the mental equivalent of a shrug, Rosa blinked; in a bid to disconnect her train of thought from the scene surrounding her. She was letting her imagination get the better of her. After all, she'd written telepathy into her latest story. It was understandable that her thoughts would gravitate towards things like that. She just needed to be careful what she came up with from now on.

_Because you know what they say about people who hear voices..._ Rosa thought.

At that precise moment, Sebastian Oran raised his head, his disturbing blue-grey gaze holding her own with ease. He was so calm, so measured in his movements that it would have been easy to believe that he'd rehearsed every one of them. It put Rosa in mind of watching a film on a repeat loop. In a situation like this, the effect was both familiar and unnerving. It wasn't deja-vu, exactly, but something _like_ that.

"Rosa, this is really quite good. Wherever did you get your inspiration?"

Incapable of pulling her gaze from his, Rosa could have sworn she saw silver sparks swirling around his pupils— her imagination in overdrive, yet again.

"Umm... I'm not sure really. They just came to me one day," she replied.

"They?" The question was sharp.

"My ideas."

"Oh, yes, of course." Sebastian glanced down at the notebook still resting in his hands. But not for long. "Are you sure that's all they are? Your writing is very descriptive. Is there nothing you can think of, that first sparked it? Something you saw or a dream perhaps?"

Rosa was beginning to feel like a scientific specimen, pinned to a board, with no hope of escape. She shook the notion off, shaking her head at the same time. "No... I don't think so."

"Hmm..." Sebastian regarded her seriously for a long moment and then opened his mouth as if to speak again.

"Sorry, Rosa, Sebastian wanted his suits fetching from the dry cleaners. That's what happens when trips are arranged last minute. We shouldn't be much long..."

Alexa Munroe's words trailed off. She'd entered the office carrying several clothes hangers bearing plastic shrouded business suits, but stopped abruptly just inside the door. Her gaze moved between Sebastian and Rosa, her mouth hanging open slightly. "Oh... I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't realise you were here. Is there anything more you want me to do for you?"

A lazy smile curved Sebastian's lips. He stood up with the same understated grace with which he'd sat, reaching out a hand towards the suits. "No, I don't think so, Alexa. You should have told me that you'd arranged an outing with your daughter. One of the other secretaries could have filled in for you. Such times are precious..."

"Oh, it was no trouble, Sir." Alexa rushed to reassure him. "Rosa understood, didn't you, darling?"

Rosa nodded.

"Still, next time you must tell me," Sebastian insisted.

Alexa looked suitably chastised. "Yes, Sir."

Sebastian nodded, then turned towards his office. As he walked away from her, Rosa had the feeling something was wrong, but the fierce look that her mom directed at her not only had the power to silence and paralyse, it also short-circuited all rational thought.

It wasn't until the inner office door had closed, and her mother had relaxed, that the answer came to her.

"But, Mom... we can't leave yet. Mr Oran still has my notebook," she whispered.

"Oh dear," Alexa said. "I'm sorry, cupcake, but I'm afraid we'll have to. Once that door closes, Mr Oran isn't to be disturbed. Don't worry though, I'll get it back for you as soon as he gets back from England."

"But... I _need_ it, Mom," Rosa said.

"Oh? Is it homework?" Alexa asked.

Rosa considered lying, but thought better of it. Her mom had a talent for sniffing out an untruth at fifty paces. "No, not exactly. I... it was something I was working on, for a project my English teacher has planned."

Did half-truths count as lying? Rosa felt her cheeks begin to pinken under her mom's scrutiny.

"Hmm... Well, if it's not urgent, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. As I said, Mr Oran can't be disturbed once that door closes. It's more than my job's worth to break _that_ rule. I'll leave him a note in the diary and if he doesn't leave it for me to collect on Monday, I'll ask him about it when I next speak to him. I'm sorry, Rosa..."

Rosa nodded in understanding. "It's okay, Mom." It didn't take a genius to figure out that even a usually steady-tempered boss would suffer from occasional bouts of mercurial behaviour. As calm as Sebastian Oran had appeared, she understood her mom's reticence. If he was stressing over the details of his up-coming trip, having an eleven year old whinging on about her missing notebook could easily prove the last straw. Rosa had enough sense to avoid _that_.

Alexa's relief resulted in a brief, heartfelt hug. "Thank you, cupcake. He'll probably leave it on his desk, once he realises he still has it. It's not as if there's anything of importance to the company in there..."

Rosa's stomach seemed to fold in on itself, making her feel sick. She hadn't thought of that.

As her Mom locked everything away and ushered her from the office, Rosa looked back at the inner office door. _Of importance to the company_... potentially, the Lifelights could be _extremely_ important to the company.

# Chapter 6

Sebastian waited until he heard Alexa and Rosa leave. The outer office door clicked shut behind them. Picking up his phone, he pressed a pre-programmed outside line, placed the handset to his ear and continued to flick through the pages of Rosa's notebook, which he held in his other hand.

A male voice answered on the first ring. "Yes, Mr Oran."

Sebastian smiled. "Good afternoon, Joseph. I think we might have a problem. You know the information you provided me with... regarding our latest sighting? Well, I think I might know what the connection is. My PA and her daughter will be exiting the building shortly. I'd like you to follow them. Take whoever you need... Liam, Nathan... but don't lose your mark and keep alert." He paused, his eyes skimming over the words that Rosa had written so quickly, they were little more than a scrawl. "Keep me up to speed, Joseph. I'm needed in England, but I'm trusting you to handle this whilst I'm gone."

****

Her mom's, "Good?" was a redundant question.

Glancing down at the chocolate brownie, with its generous serving of vanilla ice cream and chocolate fudge sauce on the side, Rosa quickly scooped up a large spoonful and popped it into her mouth, savouring the sensations and flavours that flooded across her taste buds. "Uhhumm" she replied, her mouth still full.

Smiling, Alexa took a sip of her coffee. Placing the cup back on its saucer, she traced a finger along the gentle sweep of its porcelain lip, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Rosa watched her, and polished off the remaining brownie and ice cream. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

Alexa's dark brown eyes raised from the cup, meeting her daughter's. "Of course."

Rosa's attention shifted, following the patterns that she created with her spoon in the melted remnants of the ice cream. She considered her words carefully as she watched the rich, chocolate sauce swirl through soft vanilla, creating multiple shades of coffee and caramel. "Do you ever feel older than you are?" she asked.

"Older? I'm not sure what you mean. When you get to my age, the emphasis moves to staying young."

"Oh, I know that," Rosa said, completely missing the rueful tilt of her mom's lips, that suggested this was not the most complimentary response. "What I mean is, do you ever feel like you know stuff you shouldn't? Like your memories and knowledge amount to more than the total of your age. Like..."

"... your turn of phrase and word choices suggest an older soul?" Her mom finished for her.

Startled, Rosa glanced at her. " _Yes_. That's exactly what I mean. And... like there's something in your mind, just out of reach, that's _important_ , but it happened so long ago, you can't remember what it is?"

"Do you know why your father and I find it so difficult to talk to you sometimes, Rosa?" her mom asked.

Rosa shook her head. She hadn't even known they'd recognised the fact.

"It's because we don't know how to approach you. You're different from any other child I know... of your age. You feel things, think about things, more _deeply_. It's not just us that's noticed this either. Your teachers have commented on it. And I don't mean to make it sound like a bad thing. You never take things at face value, you're always analysing and hypothesising... heck, I don't suppose there are many eleven year olds who'd know what hypothesis means; but I know _you_ do.

"As to your question... No. I don't feel older than I am, not now, but there was a time when I did." Alexa took another sip of coffee before continuing. "I felt just like you're describing from about your age right up until my early twenties. It was only when I met your father that I began to feel comfortable about who I am. That feeling solidified on the day I gave birth to you." A moment's silence, and another mouthful of coffee. Rosa realised that she was holding her breath as her mom's eyes met hers. "I hope you know that, Rosa. Your father and I have always loved each other... passionately, but we love you too. It's been our honour to raise you."

"Honour..." Rosa breathed out the word slowly, testing how she felt about hearing it. "That's a strange way of putting it."

Her mom shrugged, suddenly retreating, once again becoming the tightly wrapped professional that Rosa found so infuriating. "You might think that." She raised her head as if in challenge. "But that's how I feel. Love and honour have always been important to me. Now... if you've finished, we'd better go find that stationery you need for school. After calling at the office, we don't have nearly as much time as I'd like."

Which reminded Rosa. Sliding out from behind the table, she made a grab for her mom's hand, halting her before they left the confines of their booth. "You won't forget about my notebook, will you, Mom? It's not important for school, but it is to me. I know I haven't told you this before, but... well, I like to write stories... nothing ground breaking, but they're still a part of me. I don't want Mr Oran reading them without my permission."

"So why did you let him have your notebook in the first place?" Alexa asked.

Rosa grimaced. "To be honest, he didn't give me much choice. I didn't know he was reading over my shoulder until it was too late. Then he asked me what Lifelights were, and took the book before I realised what he was doing."

Her mom's head snapped round so fast that her hair swung around her face. "Lifelights? Is that what your stories are about?"

Rosa nodded.

"And what is it about these Lifelights that Mr Oran would find interesting? You might as well tell me, because I won't believe he's the sort of man to enjoy fairy stories," Alexa said. She crossed her arms as if to emphasise her 'no messing with me' stance.

"Oh..." Rosa wondered how best to word her reply. Total honesty seemed the only viable route. "Well, they're definitely not fairy stories. I think he was probably interested in them because my characters are made out of energy. Perhaps he wishes they were real? If they were, it would be the breakthrough of the century for the energy industry."

Alexa's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps..." she murmured. "As for not knowing about your writing. Your father and I are more observant than you think. We know all about your stories... we were just waiting for you to share them with us."

"Really?" Rosa was amazed. "Well, I'm telling you now. They're really important to me, Mom. I need to get them back."

Alexa smiled at her. "And you will, cupcake. Just be patient. So, about that stationery... and don't think you're off the hook with your dad and me either. You can tell us all about these Lifelight characters when we get home. They sound fascinating... personally, I wouldn't know where to start. I can take down and transcribe shorthand for hours on end, but I've never been able to write creatively. If I wrote a book, it would probably be about something like the progression of telecommunications throughout the twentieth century."

Rosa couldn't think of anything less inspiring. As the two of them moved away from the restaurant and out into the crowds of Saturday shoppers that packed the mall, she wondered if she should encourage her mom to complete a project like that. It might even find worldwide fame... as a cure for insomnia. From there her thoughts continued to wander. She worried about her notebook, wondered when the Lifelights would next honour her with their presence and tried to figure out just how many story details she'd tell her parents when they got home. She needed to be careful about that...

The rest of the afternoon passed relatively quickly, until the moment that Rosa slammed closed the station wagon's trunk, having just stowed her and her mother's purchases inside. Briefly her disinterested gaze skimmed across the parking lot, only to be snagged by a flash of movement over by the trees that screened the mall from the highway beyond.

Surprise stiffened her body. Had she just seen...

Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. The sound crystalised her certainty. Two shapes had dodged behind the trees. What on earth was her OCD dog walker, and dog, doing _here_?

For a moment Rosa considered sprinting across the parking lot, to see if they were still in view. It all seemed too much of a coincidence... but before she could move, her attention was pulled back to the mall, where a man came striding out of a side entrance.

He was a lot bigger than most men she'd seen, with a tan and physique that immediately made her think of outdoor living. Strange. He moved with lazy, confident grace, his corn blond hair untidy, as if he had a habit of running his fingers through it impatiently... something he promptly did as he paused, his gaze roving across the lot until it landed on Rosa.

It was impossible to see his eye colour from this distance, but Rosa knew they were green. At least, that's what colour she wanted them to be.

They stared at each other for a moment and then suddenly the connection snapped as the blond stranger answered his cell, turning as he spoke. He now faced the trees that Rosa had been watching previously.

Then he was running, powering across the lot, to disappear as thoroughly as the man and his dog.

What just happened?

Feeling stunned, Rosa jumped violently when her mom leaned on the car horn.

"Come on, Rosa, less of the wool gathering; hustle! We need to get home..."

Rosa muttered under her breath, annoyed. She wanted to investigate. Instead, she slid into the passenger seat. Her eyes scanned the trees as they passed them, but there was no one in sight.

# Chapter 7

Rosa knew her dad was watching her. He chewed on a piece of fried chicken with excessive diligence— a sure sign that his mind was as industrious as his jaw.

"So, are you going to tell us about these stories of yours?" he asked.

Rosa's gaze met his, briefly, before returning to her meal. "Which ones? I've written a lot of stories."

Another mouthful passed her dad's lips. He chewed... time stretched, bathed in tension, until he finally swallowed.

A small shiver ran along Rosa's spine. Her own mouthful of chicken lodged itself in the back of her throat. She reached for her glass of soda, swilling it down.

Then her nerve broke.

"Okay, okay... So you want to know about my stories? Well, they're set here, in Houston, mostly. My characters are called Lifelights and they're _really_ old. They're older than humans, older than the dinosaurs, probably the oldest thing on the planet." She paused, reaching for the bowl of fries that her mom had placed in the centre of the table. "They're made out of energy, can only communicate with touch and are at the top of every energy company's wish list. In my stories, the Lifelights and _me_ are a team. We're more amazing than any superhero and we regularly save the world. That's it really."

She bit into a chicken leg with undue ferocity and avoided all eye contact. Shifting in her seat, she waited for their verdict.

The silence that greeted her monologue was so complete that she began to wonder if they'd fallen asleep or were simply trying to recall the number of the nearest twenty-four hour psychiatrist.

At last, she heard the sound of her mom clearing her throat. "That's... pretty impressive, Rosalyn. You came up with all that on your own? Where on earth did you get your ideas from?"

Rosa's thoughts scattered. Now was _not_ the time to come clean regarding strange lights that visited her in her bedroom. Head bent, she hastily searched the edges of her vision and prayed for inspiration. Her line of sight landed on the kitchen window ledge.

Raising her head again, she smiled at her mom. And the lie solidified into words. "Oh, that was the easy bit. You see that ornament?" She pointed to a piece of faceted crystal, about 12cm tall, that rested on the window ledge. It was shaped like a seated, stylised dog. Her mother adored it. Her father— didn't.

"Yes," Alexa said, nodding her head.

"Well, that's what started it," Rosa explained, hoping she sounded convincing. "When the sun comes through the window and hits the crystal, it creates a shower of coloured light all over the walls, floor and ceiling. All I had to do was take that picture and... run with it."

"Run with it?" her dad queried.

"In a literary sense," Rosa clarified, nodding her head.

Her parents looked at each other across the dinner table. Her dad's eyebrows were raised, his eyes sparkling with something that Rosa couldn't quite identify. Her mom's lips twitched at the corners as if she suppressed laughter.

Rosa huffed, before biting into another piece of chicken. Lie or not, the least they could do was be impressed by what she'd said. If it had been true... it was quite clever. As a lie it showed an ability to think on her feet that even she didn't realise she possessed.

"Have you shown any of these stories to your English teacher?" her dad asked.

Having hoped the subject was finished with, Rosa's eyes reluctantly met his. "I showed her one of the early ones last year as part of a creative writing assignment. She liked it. The ones I've written since didn't fit in with the work we were doing in school. I wrote them for fun," she explained.

Her dad nodded. "As hobbies go, it's one to be proud of. Your mom told me what happened at the office. Don't worry, I'm sure that once Mr Oran realises he still has your notebook, he'll leave it at work. He was probably fascinated by the fact that you've used an energy based life form for your stories. Can't say I've come across anything like that before... not that I'm a big reader. Maybe Mr Oran felt the same."

Rosa replied with a shrug, using her mouthful of food as an excuse not to answer verbally. Knowing the truth, she couldn't help worrying. If Mr Oran ever found out that her stories weren't as _imaginative_ as they first appeared... She didn't dare think about the consequences of _that_ happening.

* * * *

The Lifelights didn't visit her room that night. Rosa dreamt that they were in the house though. They passed along the upper landing, heading back to her parents' room. It was the middle of the night, and they moved slowly, their light patterning the floor as it eased under the bottom edge. In the dream, she supposed that they were drawn there to finish their investigation of her parents' family photos.

In the light of the morning, she wondered if they'd decided that they preferred her parents' company to hers. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes, soaking into her pillow. A feeling of despair weighted her body to the bed. It was as if, by taking her notebook, Sebastian Oran had taken her conviction that the Lifelights were drawn to her alone.

Sunday flowed into Monday all too quickly. At least, with any luck, school work would help to focus her attention on something other than her notebook.

* * * *

Rosa had forgotten all about seeing the OCD dog walker at the mall. The memory of it flooded into her mind when she spotted him patrolling the sidewalk in front of the school. Yet again, he was keeping to an hourly schedule.

She wondered what had happened to the other man. The one with the messy blond hair and eyes that should have been green.

Usually their class moved between teachers and rooms, but today they were informed that problems with the heating system meant that it made more sense for students to stay put, with the doors shut and temporary space heaters in position. The only time any of them ventured out was at break time and lunch. Today their teachers came to them instead, quickly dodging through the classroom door to minimise the heat loss.

The last two classes of the day was double English. Rosa soon realised that her teacher, who usually left her to her own devices, was today paying her close attention.

Every time she glanced up from her work, Miss Clacher was peering at her from behind dark framed glasses. Her scrutiny caused Rosa to wonder, yet again, how a Scottish teacher had ended up teaching English language in an American middle school. It seemed a bizarre combination.

She tried to concentrate on the task they'd been set, but her mind kept jumping from whether Sebastian Oran had left her book at the Oran Industries' office, the dog walker, the other man at the mall, Miss Clacher's increased interest in her and... where the Lifelights were. At this rate she'd be working well into the night, just to catch up with the work she _should_ have been doing now.

At last the bell sounded for the end of the day. Glancing out the window, Rosa saw that her dad had yet to arrive, so kept her movements slow. She didn't relish waiting for him in the cold. All around her, the other students packed away their books quickly, eager to get home.

"Rosalyn Munroe, I'd like a word with you. Please stay behind."

Rosa halted at the sound of Miss Clacher's voice ringing out across the room. Her eyes met those of her friend, Angie. She looked almost as startled as Rosa felt. This was the first time _ever_ that a teacher had asked Rosa to stay behind.

"Yes, Miss," Rosa automatically responded. She finished packing her bag and then made her way to the front of the room, to the chair that was already waiting for her in front of Miss Clacher's desk.

Angie was the last person to file out of the classroom. Momentarily her anxious and puzzled face looked back through the doorway, her hand making the universal sign for 'call me'.

Rosa gave her a short nod of acknowledgement as the door swung shut, before turning to look at Miss Clacher. Her throat felt uncomfortable as if lined with sandpaper. She didn't understand why she was being kept back. She cleared her throat and fidgeted on her seat.

Miss Clacher was busy scribbling notes on to the top most paper in front of her. She glanced up briefly, sending Rosa what she hoped was a smile of reassurance. After another minute or so of note making, Miss Clacher sat up straight, leant back against her chair and surveyed Rosa solemnly. She raised the pencil she'd been using to mark the students' work, tapping the end against her pursed lips. Her eyes, which had always reminded Rosa of the colour of moss, were narrowed.

Rosa had the feeling that she had somehow presented her teacher with a particularly difficult problem. She decided that the best course of action was to remain silent. She'd let Miss Clacher take the lead.

The pencil moved from her teacher's lips to the desktop. Its movement continued, tapping out a steady rhythm against the veneered surface.

As her anxiety grew, Rosa sought out something to focus on, other than that damned pencil. The shimmer of her teacher's pendant necklace served nicely.

"Thank you for staying behind, Rosalyn. This shouldn't take long." Miss Clacher's words echoed her mom's from two days earlier. Not a good sign. "I'll get straight to the point, Rosalyn. I have concerns regarding your safety. I've observed certain individuals outside the school gates, all of whom seem particularly interested in _you._ Have you anything you want to tell me? Do you know these people?"

The pronouncement and questions were so _not_ what Rosa had been expecting, that for a moment her eyes met those of her teacher in consternation before refocusing on her necklace.

As if sensing her fascination with it, long, slim fingers came into Rosa's line of vision, running across the pendant's surface like a caress.

She still hadn't answered her teacher's questions, but that didn't seem to matter. Miss Clacher asked her another. "You like my necklace?"

Rosa nodded. "Yes, Miss. It's very... unusual. I don't think I've seen one like it before. What stone is it?"

Miss Clacher chuckled. "Ah... I'd forgotten that about you. I'd assumed the glitch long since fixed."

Not understanding what she meant, Rosa stayed silent.

Her teacher continued, "It's a very _old_ necklace, an heirloom of sorts. As to what stone it is— hmm, how best to describe it... I guess the least confusing answer is to say that it's made from star dust, just like the rest of us... but with an added _kick_."

"Oh." Rosa didn't know what else to say.

"Now, getting back to the reason you're here, young lady. These strangers I've seen— have you told your parents about them yet?"

Still not getting where the conversation was leading, Rosa silently shook her head. Her teacher's eyebrows rose. Clearly, the answer wasn't good enough. Rosa cleared her throat again. "No, sorry, Miss Clacher, I haven't. You think I should?"

"Yes, I do," the words were delivered with the clipped precision that seemed to be a trademark of all teaching staff. "Your unique circumstances have always warranted careful consideration, Rosalyn. Especially when it comes to your safety. I've done what I can since you became a member of my class. However, even with my talents, there's only so much a human can do. After seeing the upsurge of interest in you over the last few days, I'd say it's time to bring in the big guns. Perhaps your mother could have a word with her boss?"

Rosa's head was spinning. In a single conversation, Miss Clacher had given her enough to puzzle over that it could take her weeks to decipher it all. "Err, Miss Clacher, you kind of make it sound like there's something _other_ than humans? I don't understand what your talents are _or_ what you think Sebastian Oran could do about any of this... but the way you're talking makes me think there's more to you than meets the eye. Who, exactly, are you?"

Miss Clacher didn't appear at all put out by Rosa's bold ideas or questions. Instead, she smiled and— winked. "Why, I'm the one that got away, Rosalyn. Thanks to this." She pointed to her necklace. "For now though, just think of me as someone with a better idea than most as to what's going on and, hopefully, as a future friend.

"Now... about these strangers. I think it's best that you allow me to take you to my place. Your father isn't here yet and I don't want you hanging around outside the school gates waiting for him. It's not safe. Something about today feels _off_." She once again touched the pendant that rested against her upper chest, her eyes becoming unfocused, as if she'd slipped from the here and now to listen in on something else entirely.

Rosa was reminded of how her parents looked sometimes. As if they shared something she couldn't see or hear. That was what this felt like... undercurrents.

Movement outside the classroom window, over by the school gates, drew Rosa's attention. The station wagon had arrived, pulling up against the sidewalk. The sound of her dad pressing the car horn filtered through the glass.

Rosa jumped into motion. "No need, Miss Clacher. Look, Dad's here now."

Miss Clacher's face became wary as she glanced between the vehicle and Rosa. Her fingers now worried at her pendant constantly. "Well, if you're sure, Rosalyn. Maybe I should come out with you. I had meant to explain why I'd kept you behind, but... it's unusual for your father to arrive late, isn't it? Perhaps we should wait until he comes in for you— to make sure everything's as it should be."

Unsettled by her teacher's odd behaviour, Rosa's movements became harried. "Oh, no. There's no need, really, Miss Clacher. I'll mention to Dad about the strangers tonight. You're right, it _is_ something my parents should know about."

Her teacher hesitated as if trying to decide on the best course of action. Her necklace sparkled in the late afternoon light as she twisted the chain around her fingers. Like the crystal dog on the kitchen window ledge, it threw out tiny flashes of prismatic light that scattered across Miss Clacher's hand and arm.

At last, her teacher nodded in agreement. "Very well then, if you're sure." She again began to tap out a rhythm with her pencil on the desktop. "As I'm only too well aware some things, no matter how frightening, need to happen. A dance isn't truly a dance if the steps don't fit the music."

The cryptic remark hung in the classroom air.

"Go then, Rosalyn. Send your father my apologies for keeping you. I'll speak with him some other time, if Luca is in agreement."

Grateful that the strange meeting was finally over, Rosa only spared the briefest of moments to wonder who on earth 'Luca' was. She grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. Passing through it, she glanced back.

Miss Clacher was staring out the classroom window, her fingers tracing the edges of her strange looking necklace.

# Chapter 8

The operative in charge of the listening device began scribbling across the report pages. When he'd finished, he motioned for the man sitting at the back of the room to take the page from him.

The second man made his way through the corridors of Synergy U.S.A. When he came to the CEO's office door, he rapped on the dark wood panel before stepping inside.

"Mr Cameron, I think you should see this," he said, crossing over to the large desk that stood in pride of place.

The man behind the desk was a well known face amongst Houston's business executives. Even more so amongst the sycophantic world of the stockbroker. His ability to create wealth through the energy industry was as legendary as the man himself. Not a single dark hair on his head was out of place, his brown eyes appeared almost black and his tall, muscled physique hinted at a strength that was not to be taken lightly. Encased in a keenly cut charcoal grey suit, with a crisp, white, Italian shirt and dark red silk tie, his clothing emphasised the paleness of his skin and the shadowing of stubble along his jaw; a look that seemed at odds with the rest of his appearance.

A hand was extended for the report paper, his eyes scanning the scrawled words. He nodded to the messenger. "Very good, Julian. It seems that the teacher has secrets of her own. Keep an eye on her; a two man team. Also, step up the number of men on Ross Munroe. We'll be making a move soon. With Sebastian Oran in England, his company headquarters are more accessible. No matter how good the soldiers, the line of command is stretched. We need to take advantage of that."

Julian nodded in understanding. "Do you want me to contact the mother today, Sir?"

Mr Cameron sighed with obvious annoyance. "And what good would that do? We've yet to secure the leverage we need. When we have the girl and her father, we'll progress to the next step. That has always been the plan. I see no need to alter it." He paused, his eyes once again skimming over the report. "See if you can find out more about this Luca person too. It's not a name I've come across before."

"Yes, Sir. What did you want to do about the two men following Cunningham?"

Mr Cameron's eyebrows rose in tandem as he regarded the man in front of him. "Did I say I wanted you to do anything about them, Julian?"

"Nnn...no, Sir. I just assumed..."

"Well don't. If they prove to be a problem in the future, I may reconsider our position. For the moment though... leave well alone. Cunningham is experienced enough to lose them if he needs to."

Julian nodded in understanding. "Yes, Sir. I'll see to the extra men."

A brief nod of dismissal was the only answer he received.

Leaving the office, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him.

* * * *

"The girl's just getting into the car. Nothing suspicious. Anything your end?" Nathan Park whispered the question into the microphone embedded in his jacket. The earpiece he wore crackled faintly before the sound of his partner, Joseph, was heard.

"Nothing. The guy _and_ his dog seem to have disappeared into thin air."

"Quite a feat for a flesh and blood human and canine," Nathan muttered. "You don't think..."

"No, I don't. The guy wasn't one of us."

"You sure about that?" Nathan persisted. "What if he's a Chem?"

The snort that came from Joseph was clearly audible across the radio link. "What is it with you? The Chems aren't _that_ skilled. Geez, anyone would think they were magicians the way you talk about them. They're _not_ bogeymen and they're _not_ able to hide what they are by some mystical means. They're just like the rest of us... except not."

"Oh, well, that clears that up then," Nathan said.

"No need for sarcasm. You know what I mean. Right, I'm going to call it a day here. Keep the car in sight at all times. I'll meet you back at the Munroes' place. Make sure Liam's still keeping an eye on Alexa. Mr Oran will want an in-depth report on everyone visiting the house, the offices or approaching the family."

"Message received. Over and out." Nathan stepped from the shadows on the East side of the school and continued to the edge of the sidewalk. He hailed a cab, issuing the immortal line he'd secretly always wanted to say. "Follow that car."

* * * *

"Everything all right?" her dad asked as he opened the passenger door for her. "Sorry I'm late... bit of a snarl-up on the way here." Rosa scrambled onto the front seat with a distracted nod and made a suitably sympathetic noise regarding the traffic. Fastening her seat belt, she reached for her cell phone. No way could she ring Angie with her dad sat there listening, but if she knew her friend, she'd be frantic with curiosity right now. A text would have to do.

She kept it short and sweet, 'Hi A. No worries re Miss C. CYT'.

"Problems?" her dad queried, eyeing her phone as if he had an inside line on everything that was on it.

Rosa quickly pocketed it. "No. Angie was worried when Miss Clacher asked me to stay behind at the end of class. I was just letting her know that it was nothing to worry about."

Her dad paused as he shifted gears, increasing their speed. They'd reached the faster flowing freeway. "Ah... and is that the truth? I've never known you be asked to stay behind." He slanted her a curious look. "Miss Clacher is your English teacher, isn't she? I thought you were doing well in English."

"Oh, I am. Miss Clacher wanted to warn me about the strangers that have been seen hanging around the school lately. She seemed to think they were particularly interested in me, but to be honest, I think she's got a screw loose. She started mumbling stuff about glitches and how she'd tried her best, but there was only so much a human could do... as if there's an alternative to being human?" She reached down to rearrange the contents of her backpack as she spoke, so didn't see the look of shock that swept across her dad's face. She felt the sharp movement as he lost control of the car though, before slamming on the breaks when he realised how close he'd come to the car in front.

The over correction had the opposite effect to what was intended. The station wagon's body lurched as it skidded to an abrupt halt in the middle of the freeway, mere inches from the vehicle in front. Fortunately, the traffic was lighter because they'd been later setting off from the school, but there were still enough vehicles around that her father's sudden manoeuvre resulted in a blare of angry horns.

Rosa's head connected sharply with the glove box, causing her to wince. She rubbed at the injury with one hand, but no sooner had she righted herself than her dad leaned over to grasp her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin. Surprised, she stared at him. The skin around his mouth and eyes had become pale and stretched, his eyes staring at her intently.

"What did you say, Rosalyn? Tell me _exactly_ what Miss Clacher said to you... tell me _right now!_ "

Rosa couldn't remember the last time that her dad had shouted at her. She began to shake, her breath speeding between her lips as she fought to remember the details of what her teacher had said. "I... She..." but before she got a chance to do as he asked, she caught sight of a red truck behind them, approaching at speed. Once again, she was thrown into the dashboard of the car, this time with greater force.

The impact manifested itself in the sound of twisting metal and the crunch of glass, making her want to curl in on herself for protection. The whole vehicle shuddered as it was violently shunted forward, the trunk of the car in front coming up fast. As the hood of the station wagon concertinaed inwards, pinning Rosa's legs in place, the sound of her terrified screams cleaved the air. They joined with her dad's harsh curses, creating a chorus of urgency and panic. Time seemed to slow as the windscreen cracked and buckled. Thankfully, it didn't shatter. The truck that had plowed into them veered off course as it impacted the station wagon, only to re-impact the side of their car and screech along its side. The air was filled with the sickening sound of metal gouging metal. Something struck the driver's side window, causing it to spray the inside of the car with a shower of glass that cut through flesh with ease. Rosa instinctively tried to shield herself, but she could only turn her head— her arms didn't respond fast enough.

By the time the noise and motion of the crash subsided, the inside of the station wagon had been decimated, the space crushed from all sides as the front, back and side impact areas forced the steel body inwards. Why on earth hadn't the air bags gone off?

Tears rolled down Rosa's face as she managed to roll her head to one side, her eyes searching for her father amidst the devastation. He was slumped forward in his seat, his head angled towards her, but his eyes closed. The skin of his face was peppered with red cuts where glass had embedded itself in the unprotected flesh.

Rosa drew in a harsh breath. The shaking that had gripped her when her dad shouted at her had been nothing. The quaking that now swept through every inch of her body was uncontrollable, melding with the sobs that erupted from her lungs and the tears that slid down her cheeks to drip from her chin. Never had she been so frightened. The thought that her dad... He groaned, his body shifting slightly. Rosa tried to reach out to him, terrified that he would move too quickly and possibly worsen any injuries, but her arms were pinned as effectively as her legs. The only thing she could move was her head and even that felt heavy and uncooperative. Her neck burned.

Gradually, she became aware of the shouts that came from beyond the car. Flashes of movement drew nearer and nearer as would-be rescuers moved in to offer what help they could.

"You're going to be fine. I've got you, little one." The male voice that drifted to her ears seemed very close, so close that Rosa could have sworn that her hair moved and she could feel the heat of his breath. She considered turning her head to look, but didn't want to take them from her dad.

"My dad," she whispered through lips that were difficult to shape around the words. Her neck and jaw hurt _so_ much.

"I know. Keep talking, baby girl. Your dad's going to be all right. _You're_ going to be all right. I'm willing to bet money on that too, and you can ask anyone who knows me, I never bet unless it's a dead cert. Now, you just lie still for me and keep listening to my voice. I never thought I'd say this to a female, but you go right ahead and talk as much as you want to. Just stay awake... you got that, little one? Stay awake..."

The sound of his voice wrapped around Rosa's consciousness, pulling at it. It was a beautiful voice, she thought. Slightly gravelly and deep. A soothing voice. It almost sounded familiar.

Suddenly, she was filled with a burning need to see the man it belonged to. Her head was throbbing, but for some reason she was unconvinced that the accident was entirely to blame. Something was pounding at her head from the _inside_. It was a vague memory... and it was all tied up with the voice that came from behind her.

Bracing her shoulder and neck muscles and praying that she wasn't about to paralyse herself from the neck downwards, Rosa began to roll her head in small increments, testing the level of pain that it caused her, and her range of movement. There was no ominous click of bone or searing pain from severed muscles or nerves. It just felt a bit... stiff.

The man's voice continued to croon softly to her, keeping up a string of reassurances that flowed over her tortured body like a balm.

Clenching her jaw in determination, Rosa finally found the strength to flip her head from one side to the other.

For the first time, her eyes met those of the man who sought to bring her comfort.

She felt her eyes widen in the same instant that she saw his mimic the action.

He was young, early twenties maybe, with green eyes... just as she'd known they would be. It was the man from the mall, his short blond hair even more wild than it had looked then.

He smiled at her, even as he began to voice a reprimand. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you, little one? Didn't I tell you to lie still?"

Rosa curled her lips, smiling back at him. Something about this man made her feel safe. Moments passed as they simply stared at each other. Her head still pounded as forgotten knowledge attempted to claw its way out from her mind. Soon she felt the strain, losing the battle against unconsciousness.

As the edges of her vision darkened, Rosa formed the words that welled up from somewhere deep inside her. "Yeah, but when have I _ever_ listened to you?"

# Chapter 9

The horrible smell was unmistakable. Before she'd even opened her eyes, Rosa knew she was in hospital.

She wrinkled her nose against the reek of antiseptic. She'd always been overly sensitive to its odour.

She opened her eyes.

Memories of what had happened slowly filled her awareness. She tried raising herself off the bed, her concern for her dad overtaking any about her own injuries. He'd been unconscious...

"Hey, hey, less of that. They'll chuck me out if they think I can't keep you still."

It was a familiar voice.

Rosa stared, open mouthed, at the man sitting by the side of her bed. He grinned at her, shut the book he'd been reading and placed it on top of the locker between them.

It was the man from the mall and the crash, but... "What are you doing here?" Rosa asked.

Her voice seemed strange, perhaps affected by medications that dried her mouth and slurred her speech.

The man poured out a glass of water from the pitcher that was also on top of the locker. He tried passing it to her, then realised she wasn't in the best position to drink it. Before she realised what was happening, he gently drew her within the support of his arms and held the glass so she could take careful sips.

As she drank, she looked up at him with interest.

He was good looking in a ruggedly masculine, outdoorsy sort of way. Tanned and fit with blond hair and green eyes that fascinated her. Somehow she doubted he'd ever worn a shirt and tie, let alone a suit. The plaid work shirt, thrown over a T-shirt and jeans were far more in keeping with his subtly powerful build. He looked as if he should be out on a ranch somewhere, instead of in the middle of Houston. She wondered, _who was he_?

He released her and let her lie resting upon the bed, before again settling himself onto the chair.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Okay then, well I suppose I should fill you in about _me_ then."

He hesitated, considering his words carefully. "I work for Mr Oran, which is how I come to know your mom and dad _and_ how I come to be here. You can call me Park, everyone else does. Stroke of luck me being on the scene like that."

Rosa wondered if that was true, it seemed too convenient, but she put her doubts aside as he continued on.

"I recognised your dad straight away... by the way, he's fine. That's where your mom is now. She left me in charge whilst she went to check on him." Rosa smiled when he puffed out his chest, as if the job was an honour.

_Park..._ The name seemed wrong for him, yet familiar at the same time, just like the man himself. She couldn't remember ever meeting him. Maybe she'd seen him at one of the 'family' events Oran Industries often held for their employees?

"Interesting stories," Park remarked, pulling Rosa's attention to the book he'd once again picked up. Her stomach clenched when she realised it was _her_ notebook he was reading.

"Where did you get that?" she demanded.

"This?" Park waved the opened notebook in the air, his face taking on a puzzled expression. "Your mom left it. Said you'd been worried about it because you thought Mr Oran might have taken it to England with him." He peered at Rosa. "Hey, you don't mind me taking a look at it, do you? Your mom didn't think you'd mind— to be honest, she seemed pretty proud of what was in here."

Rosa stared at Park's concerned face and then at the notebook. _Did_ she mind? She'd been worried about Mr Oran reading her stories, what with the energy angle and all, but did she really mind Park reading them? She liked him... he'd stayed with her after the crash. She licked her lips, deliberately moistening their surface before she answered. "No, I don't suppose so. Do you like them?"

The smile he sent her way was so big and warm, it felt like the sun coming out from behind clouds. "Yeah, little one, I like 'em. Quite an imagination you've got on you. I mean, Lifelights? Shouldn't a girl your age be more into vampire stories and the like?"

Rosa tried to laugh, but the action jolted muscles that had grown stiff since the accident. It came out as a half chuckle/half moan.

"Aw, heck, didn't mean to make you feel worse, baby girl. You just lie still for a bit. When your mom gets back, we'll see about getting you out of here. You're a bit shook up and the crash definitely jarred ya, but there're no bones broken. I'm thinking they'll be only too pleased to push you back out the door as soon as they can. Hopefully, same'll go for your dad." Park's voice sounded fussy, making Rosa smile again. Her eyelids grew heavy as she sorted through what he'd said. Her mom was with her dad... it made sense and she wanted to know how he was but, at the same time, she desperately wanted her mom to be with _her_. She needed to feel like she mattered.

A hand slid around hers. As if he knew exactly what she'd been thinking, Park's fingers squeezed hers, offering reassurance. Her eyelids began to droop lower.

Park's voice soothed her towards unconsciousness. "Go to sleep, little one. Your mom and dad will be with you soon. I'd put money on it."

* * * *

Alex Munroe stared at her husband in horror. He looked like an extra in a disaster movie, though the medical staff told her he was remarkably lucky. Like Rosalyn, he had no broken bones and no major lacerations. Fortunately the shattered window had resulted in only minor scratches. One nurse had even said it'd been a 'miraculous' escape, especially when the occupants of the other two vehicles had suffered extensive fractures. None were life threatening, but they _had_ required surgery.

Of course, Alexa knew that miracles had little to do with it. When you possessed the physiology her family did, it was easy to heal all but the worst injuries. It was one way to avoid the need for blood tests and other invasive medical procedures, ultimately requiring a _lot_ of explanations.

Movement by the door drew her attention. A tall, blond haired, blue eyed, young man entered the room. Frowning, he stared down at Ross.

"Liam," Alexa acknowledged his presence. "Have you spoken to Joseph yet? I left Nathan guarding Rosalyn, but I haven't got round to much else. Was this really an accident?"

The man looked up at her, "I doubt it was _entirely_ an accident. Sebastian thinks our enemies are preparing to make a move. When he read Rosa's notebook, he found reference to a man who may have been following her. She's woven an awful lot of information into those stories of hers. What were you and Ross thinking?"

Alexa shrugged. "About our daughter. I love Ross with every part of my body, mind and soul, yet I couldn't find the connection I needed to express my love for Rosalyn. It has been an honour to be her mother, but I could never..." She shook her head, pausing to find the right words. "It seemed like the perfect solution. Can you blame us for wanting her to feel loved?"

"No, but you must know this can't be allowed to continue. The notebook needs to be destroyed along with any other records. Does she keep a journal?" Liam asked.

Alex nodded. "Yes. She hides it under her bed."

Liam seemed pleased. "Right then, I'll contact Joseph to clarify the situation. We need to make a thorough sweep of your home. It makes sense for one of us to do it." He shook his head, rubbing his left hand distractedly across his lower face. "Geez, Alexa, did you and Ross forget that we're _hunted_? What you did was madness."

Alexa hung her head. "I know. Please, just keep my daughter safe."

"Don't worry, we will," Liam replied. Then he left the room, leaving Alexa to contemplate the consequences of her actions.

* * * *

"Alexa?" Ross's voice was faint. Alexa turned to see her husband staring at her as if she was the most glorious being on the planet. "Rosalyn..."

"Is fine," she assured him, crossing over to the bed. She leaned down to cup his face in her hands, allowing the emotions swirling through her to flow from her mind into his. Their eyes met, in complete understanding. "We need to get you both out of here," she whispered.

"I know, love." Ross's skin almost glowed as he allowed her to tend to his needs, both mentally and physically. Her mind slipped across all barriers, speaking directly to his, soothing his worries from the inside out. Energy flowed through his body, healing the throb of muscle and tissue and easing the pain from the lacerations left by the glass. Not enough for a total recovery, that would rouse suspicion, but enough to allow him to move more freely, without discomfort.

"Alexa... my love... come here," he whispered, raising his own hands to frame her beautiful face. Slowly he drew her down towards him, only realising that her hair was hanging free when the long, blonde, strawberry tinged curtain fell around him.

He knew that danger lurked, but the connection existing between them was hard to deny. As their lips touched, Ross felt an instant excitement swell within him, demanding release. The need that swiftly followed was equally strong, clamouring for satiation. With a low groan he ignored the remnants of pain from his bruised body and deepened the kiss. His tongue swept between her parted lips, to rediscover the taste of the woman he loved with every atom of his body, mind and soul. So perfect. They _fit_ , both intimate and tight, just as they had for so many years...

Of their own volition, his hands slid from her face to her shoulders, pulling her closer, so he could run his lips down from hers, along her jaw and throat, to the heated skin exposed by the neckline of her blouse. His tongue swirled out, taking up the salty taste of her skin even as his nostrils flared, collecting the scent that was uniquely hers. The sweetness of her perfume, mixed with the scent of her hair, that never failed to tempt him.

His body responded with predictable enthusiasm, pushing against the covers restraining him. He shifted, toppling her down to lie beside him, her body half covering his.

Alexa laughed softly. "Oh, Ross, if only we had the time... you make me feel like a youngster again, like I felt when you first claimed me."

Memories of that time only increased Ross's desire for his wife. He pulled open the buttons of her blouse, his fingers tracing the curve of her breasts through the thin fabric, before dipping lower to mould his palms along the sweep of her waist and hip. They roamed across her lower back, teasing at the nerves he found along her spine, until they came to rest on the curve of her bottom, pulling her insistently towards him.

"Hey! Put your wife _down,_ Ross. We haven't got time for you two to get frisky... not to mention that you're in a _hospital bed_. Have a thought for the doctors and nurses who're likely to come in." Liam's words were unwelcome.

Ross ran his hands over Alexa's luscious body one more time and then released her. He made sure she knew how reluctant he was to do so.

_"Mine,"_ he whispered into her mind.

_"Forever yours, my love,"_ she replied, smiling down at him in the moment before she rolled away and off the bed in a single movement.

They both turned to Liam. His next words refocused them like nothing else could have. "The hospital is preparing to discharge Ross and Rosa. After they've carried out the final checks, they'll need your signature, Alexa. You'll be free to go home as soon as the necessary forms are completed."

"Are we really going home? You mentioned clearing the house, but I think Rosalyn would prefer her own bed tonight," Alexa said.

"Agreed," Liam replied. "We've sent for a private ambulance, so the three of you can travel together in comfort. Rosa is still very stiff and, not surprisingly, she hasn't got the ability to heal yet. Nathan and I will travel behind you back to your place and make sure there are no more 'accidents' en route. You happy with that?"

Both Ross and Alexa nodded.

Just as he was about to go out the door, Liam turned back to them. "By the way, Nathan told Rosa that she's to call him 'Park'. When she _does_ remember him, he wants her to do it on her own and not have the memory triggered by something as distinctive as his name. So, try to remember... Your daughter's a sharp one— any slip-ups and she's bound to catch 'em."

* * * *

The private ambulance turned out to be more along the lines of an armoured vehicle. Rosa was in a wheelchair. Her dad had insisted on it. He walked beside her now, holding her hand whilst her mom pushed the chair over to the ambulance.

"It looks kind of scary," Rosa pointed out.

Her mom laughed. "A little, but I'm assured by Liam and, er, Park that this is a state-of-the-art vehicle, equipped with everything needed to get us home in comfort and safety. It's part of Oran Industries' employee emergency response programme... apparently."

"Did you know there was an 'employee emergency response programme'?" Rosa asked, staring curiously at the black vehicle, whilst attempting to surreptitiously check out where Park was.

"Nope," her mom stated. "But I'm not going to question it either. So long as it gets us home, I'm happy."

"Up you go, little one," Park said, suddenly appearing beside Rosa's chair. He opened the doors of the strange looking vehicle and pressed a button inside. Immediately a platform slid out from under the door's bottom edge and descended to street level. Rosa found herself wheeled onto the platform and the chair locked in place. She was then mechanically raised to the right level and pushed from there into the ambulance. Inside, the vehicle was clean and well equipped. There was space enough for Rosa's chair to be secured and her dad was bossed around by her mom until he consented to lie down on the well-padded bench running along one side of the vehicle. Her mom took the seat opposite.

Looking around, Rosa could see the bright lights that were secured in place over the bench and assumed the rest of the equipment was stored in the cupboards lining the tops of the ambulance walls. There was also a hatch-door in the centre of the floor. More storage, most probably.

"All set?" Park smiled at Rosa through the doorway before storing the platform away. "We'll see you back at your place in about twenty minutes then, we'll be following right behind you,"

He sent Rosa a wink before closing the doors.

Almost as soon as they set off, Rosa found herself feeling strangely sleepy. Yawning, she looked across at her mom. She too seemed to be dozing where she sat and her dad was actually snoring. Rosa smiled, rubbing at her weary eyes. She supposed it was only natural... _It hasn't been a great day_.

It was the last thought she had for quite some time.

# Chapter 10

Nathan bounded out of the car almost before it had come to a stop and headed over to the ambulance parked outside the Munroes' home. They'd come round the back of the property to minimise any attention from nosey neighbours.

Throwing open the doors, he was surprised to see that Alexa looked a lot worse than she'd done when they left the hospital. Ross was already on his feet, but seemed unsteady. He'd wrapped a blanket around his head and shoulders and was obviously weary. Rosa was similarly cocooned in a mint green waffle blanket, her head bent low. Her sagging body looked exhausted.

Nathan's heart went out to her. She'd had a rough day. The whole family had.

"Need any help?" he asked Alexa.

She hesitated a moment, her eyes sweeping across the ambulance floor as if she was even too tired to raise them to his face. Then she shook her head. "No, thank you for asking though... Park. We just need to get into bed as soon as possible. I think the shock of the day is catching up with Ross and Rosalyn. They even managed to sleep on the way here. Rest and recuperation is the best plan, I think."

"Sounds 'bout right," Nathan agreed. He and Liam saw the family to the door of their home and checked the interior. Ross and Rosalyn went straight upstairs, each of them clutching the banister with one hand whilst keeping the warm blankets in place with the other. Having waited for Alexa to lock up, Liam and Nathan settled themselves back in the car for what amounted to a stakeout. Liam radioed Joseph to let him know the Munroes were safely home. Joseph in turn would contact Sebastian.

The ambulance was long gone and the house swathed in darkness before Liam broached a subject that had been bothering him.

"I wonder what happened to the guy with the dog? Joseph said he just dropped off the face of the earth. Do you think he got recalled by Synergy once they realised we were on the case?"

"If he _was_ Synergy... he could have been exactly what he seemed: an OCD dog walker," Nathan replied. He leaned forward to adjust the car's glass regulators— another cool piece of Oran Industries' technology. It was cold outside and it was going to be a long night. Being what they were, they didn't need the heating on, but the last thing they wanted was the car windows to fog over.

Liam glanced at his friend. "Must be strange, knowing Rosa has no idea who you are. Don't think I know of another situation like it..."

"No. Neither do I," Nathan replied abruptly. He changed the subject. "Wonder what Sebastian's up to. With all this kicking-off, you'd have thought he'd postpone a business trip."

"Not sure, haven't really thought about it. I'm still getting my head around why Alexa and Ross did what they did. Why would they take such a risk?" Liam muttered. He popped open the glove box and extracted two cans of Mountain Dew. He handed one to Nathan.

Nathan didn't answer for a long time. His gaze was riveted on the house in front of them. He knew the rooms he could see at the top were the two family bedrooms. He thought of Rosa, tucked safe and snug beneath her quilt. Then he thought about her notebook. "Do we really have to destroy her stories?" he asked.

Liam choked on his soda, wiping the spital away from his mouth with the back of one hand whilst staring wide-eyed at Nathan. "'Course we do, man. If Synergy got a hold of it, they'd have a clear line of sight all the way to Oran Industries. You know they've been suspicious of us for years... stories like that, written by the daughter of Sebastian Oran's PA? It'd spark a feeding frenzy."

Nathan had to concede that one. Synergy USA was one of the biggest energy companies in Texas, if not the world. Their business was mainly in traditional energy, such as oil and gas, but they were well aware, as was the rest of the energy industry, that fossil fuels were a finite commodity. The hunt was on for a high yielding, renewable energy source that was clean and cheap to harvest. Oran Industries' position as the market leader in renewable energy and the development of low-energy consumption technology had put the two companies in direct competition. Though not a lot was known about Mr Cameron, the head of Synergy USA, he seemed to have made it his life's mission to hound Sebastian Oran at every opportunity and by fair means or foul. He'd recently attempted to bring corporate fraud charges... which had failed.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that this had only been a minor set-back in the overall scheme of things. Synergy was aggressively looking at ways to prove their theory right— that somewhere on planet Earth was an energy source solving all their problems.

"Well, at least we won this round. Now all we have to do is keep the Munroes as safe as they are right now," Nathan observed with satisfaction, taking a swig from his soda can.

* * * *

Julian knocked on Mr Cameron's door and stepped through into his office after the brief "Come," had been voiced.

Again, he approached his boss's desk, report sheet in hand. He was unsure how the news he was here to deliver would be received. It was both good and bad, so it could go either way.

The report sheet was duly scanned.

"What's this about the teacher?" Mr Cameron snapped.

Julian swallowed. "Ah, I'm afraid we lost her. By the time the teams got to the school and her place of residence, she was long gone. There's no record of a forwarding address or any relatives or friends she may be staying with. We also drew a blank for car rental and transport links. The last sighting we have of her is at a gas station, where she paid by cash and where she..."

"And where she what?" Mr Cameron queried.

"Umm... and where she waved at the security cameras, Sir," Julian said.

Mr Cameron's hand crashed onto the desk. "Please tell me we got the girl and her father, I need _something_ on Oran."

"We have an in, Sir. The Faraday cage is being readied as we speak," Julian confirmed.

A nasty smile curled the lips of Synergy USA's CEO. "Good. At last, progress. Your job might actually be safe, Julian. Alert our English branches. I don't know exactly where Sebastian Oran is heading yet or why, but when he gets there I want to know _everything_. My gut tells me this could be the breakthrough we've been waiting for."

"Yes, Sir," Julian said.

As he backed through the office door and made his way down into the lower levels of Synergy's head office, Julian reflected on the fact that much as he hated Sebastian Oran... he'd never terrified him like his boss did. He didn't envy those freaks of nature one little bit.

* * * *

When the hatch door was removed, the bright light above sliced into Rosa's vision with the unrelenting cruelty of tempered steel. Squinting upwards, she was aware of hands reaching down to tug her upright. Beside her, her dad was also hauled to his feet. Both of them moaned behind their gags as the change in position caused discomfort in their already battered limbs. They'd been squashed against each other for so long, in the confines of the ambulance's floor compartment, that Rosa had at one point despaired of ever being free again. She'd wondered if their captors planned to leave them there to die, their bodies only discovered when the stench of rotting flesh could no longer be contained.

It seemed her fears had been unwarranted.

She blinked in the light inside the ambulance, aware of two men standing on either side of them. One of the men she vaguely recognised. Not his face, but his physique. He looked like... she racked her brains... he looked like, the dog walker. Yes, that was it. The man standing on her left was the man she'd seen outside her school and the mall.

Her triumph at figuring out his identity was short lived as a black sack was dropped over her head. The ropes binding her feet were cut away, but the ones on her arms remained as did the gag. She was shoved roughly forward.

Every muscle in her body protested.

"Get the ambulance back where it belongs. The last thing we need is a missing vehicle report landing on Oran's desk. We'll meet you back at the rendezvous point."

The voice was sharp, coming from nearby. Rosa wondered if it was OCD man, but the sack was disorientating, making her confused. She doubted she could have stood up, if it wasn't for the grip on her arm.

She was dragged and pushed, lifted and carried, and then put into another vehicle, where she was forced to her knees between the seats. The thing that terrified her the most was the realisation that she could no longer sense her father's presence next to her. _Where are you, Dad?_

The next thing she knew, she was out of the vehicle again. The air seemed colder, and their footsteps echoed as they walked. She smelled gas fumes as if an engine had been left running in an enclosed space. She still couldn't see a thing through the thick sack and had no idea where they were.

Steps, leading downwards. She stumbled, crying out as she tripped and pitched forward. The person gripping her arm shifted their hold, until she was almost carried. Did the hands on her feel different now? Was there more than one man beside her?

Rosa desperately tried to hang on to the tiny snippets of information her dazed senses gave her.

More steps, again going down. The sightless motion and terror was making her feel nauseous.

"Is it ready?" a voice queried. It sounded different to the first, but she couldn't be sure. Panic made it difficult to concentrate.

"Yeah... not the Four Seasons, but good enough."

"Well then, darlin', welcome to your new home... say 'Hello' to daddy for me, won't you?"

Rosa felt herself being propelled forward, her lack of vision causing her to stumble and fall. She put out her hands to save herself, only then aware that they'd been released, but failed miserably. Her knees struck something coldly metallic. Seconds later her body slammed down onto the same surface.

She lay as still as possible. Listening. The sound of a door clanging shut had registered, at the same time as she'd been pushed, but now there was nothing like that. Muffled voices, that seemed to come from all directions, but nothing else. She gingerly reached forward with her hands, to meet open space. Raising them to her head, she tugged off the sack. The light levels around her were low, but still she flinched, squinting at her surroundings as she tugged at the gag. Even that motion exhausted her. She lay there, panting, until she heard a faint groan behind her.

"Dad?" She hardly dare believe it was him, until she rolled over onto her other side, her eyes searching the gloom of the strange, barren room.

Her dad was propped up against the wall, his knees bent and his head in his hands. As she watched, he looked up at her with deep despair etched into his features.

His words filled her with dread. "Ahh, Rosalyn... I'm so sorry, my darling girl. Please forgive me for not protecting you better. You're too young to die."

# Chapter 11

The third report sheet proved the saying true. Relief swept through Julian as, like a charm, a smile spread across his boss's face as his eyes skimmed over the words in front of him.

"Excellent work, Julian." Mr Cameron chuckled. "Let this be a lesson to the ever trusting Sebastian Oran— no matter how altruistic your intentions, _always_ thoroughly investigate those you wish to employ and only do so if they bring their loyalty with them." He swung round in his chair, presenting Julian with his profile as he stared out the office window at Houston's skyline. A sea of electric light obscured the star-filled skies above. It was a beautiful view. Julian guessed this was more true when every one of those lights represented dollar signs.

"I told you Cunningham could handle himself. He has a keen intellect, as well as the talents to back it up. His team is still in place?"

Mr Cameron's words jolted Julian from his thoughts. He nodded. "Yes, Sir. Your— associates were able to secure the vehicle and rearrange the contents without alerting the party following them. Everything went off without a hitch. The occupants were put to sleep and the decoys switched for the girl and her father. They're in the Munroe house now and will stay until further notice. As for our two birds... they're safely in their cage and the mother is eager to set them free. As soon as she has the information you need, she'll pass it on."

His boss's rarely heard laughter once again filled the office. "Ah, I almost wish I could be there when Sebastian Oran learns how easily he and his _army_ have been duped." He paused, then swung back to face Julian, his expression serious. "Tell the others to keep their wits about them. Oran's not stupid. At most, this ruse will only hold up for a few days. Once he's on to us, we'll need every available man to guard the cage. Make sure they're prepared."

Julian shivered. He wondered if Mr Cameron's _associates_ would be amongst those called in to defend what they'd taken. He doubted it, more likely, it would be the highly paid regular soldiers that would be lined up for the task. His hatred for the people who employed him and all those like them festered. "Yes, Sir," was all he said in reply.

* * * *

_"You're too young to die."_ Her dad's words hung in the air between them.

Rosa's eyes widened. "What do you mean? You think they'll kill us?"

If possible, her dad's posture became even more dejected. "Death isn't always as it should be, Rosalyn. Whatever they decide, while we're still in this cage we're trapped. I'll hold off the need to change for as long as I can, but if rescue doesn't come within the next few days, I won't be able to control my talent."

The words filtered into Rosa's brain, where she struggled to make sense of them. Her dad sounded as mentally suspect as Miss Clacher. She decided to concentrate on one thing at a time— and preferably something else. Gingerly, she began to raise her body from the floor, scooting her legs around until she was able to push herself up against one of the room's walls, the one opposite her dad. Resting back against the smooth metal, she slowly flexed the muscles in her back and shoulders, arms and legs. Once she'd done that, she eyed the room they'd been imprisoned in.

It was approximately three metres square, with rope lighting around the top of the walls and looked to be constructed out of solid sheets of steel. That was the first thing about her dad's statement that didn't make sense. Though her mind was shrieking with far more important questions, plus a healthy dose of hysteria just waiting to be released, Rosa picked the safest topic to start with. "Why did you call this a cage? It's a box, if anything."

Her dad shook his head. "No, it's a lined Faraday cage."

"A Faraday cage? Not sure I've come across one of those before," Rosa murmured.

"Yeah, well... you can thank the Brits for this invention," her dad replied. "The Faraday cage is named after Michael Faraday, who invented them in 1836. We always knew they'd be trouble... though I don't think any of us realised just how much trouble." He glanced around him. "Safe to say, I never expected to be held prisoner in one."

"Okay, so I think I've heard of Michael Faraday, but what does this thing _do_ exactly?" Rosa asked.

Her dad gave a mirthless laugh. "No way am I going into every use for these things, let's just say that they're highly effective energy shields... and that includes any energy that a Lifelight might want to chuck at them."

_Lifelight. That_ word got Rosa's attention. She gazed at the man in front of her in amazement— then her brain took the word and slotted it into position. "Oh, my God... they... they were _you_... when you say 'change' you mean..." The shock she felt, as realisation dawned, faded her voice into silence.

The only acknowledgement her father gave her was a curt nod.

* * * *

Nathan sat in the car, his seat back and his booted feet resting on the dashboard. It was morning, the sounds of people leaving for work, the chatter of voices, banging car doors and the hum of engines, filled the air with greater frequency as the minutes ticked past. He reached for the radio unit sitting on the empty driver's seat. Without any real concern, he clicked it on. "Anything to report, Lee? Over."

Liam's distorted voice filled the car. "Nah, all clear round the front, same as usual. How long do you think the sleeping beauties are likely to be holed up in there? It's been four days already. Over."

Nathan chuckled. "Hard to say... they had it pretty rough. Rosa probably has bruises from head to toe and I suppose Ross is pretending he's hurt worse than he is. He's probably playing the wounded crash victim for all he's worth and getting a truck load of daughterly sympathy for his trouble. Over."

Liam laughed at the picture Nathan had conjured up. "Yeah, sounds 'bout right. Last time I spoke to Alexa she said they were taking it steady. Can't really blame them, but we need to get on with the sweep of the house. That notebook and journal are making me nervous. Joseph's hoping that, once Rosa's fit enough, we can persuade them to take a short vacation. I think staging a break-in might be next on our 'to do' list. Over."

"Ah, just great. I hate trashing perfectly good stuff, even if it is in a good cause," Nathan said. He paused, his eyes drawn to a movement by the Munroes' back door. "Hang on, Lee. Alexa's just leaving. Keep your eyes peeled while I go have a chat with her. Over and out."

He didn't wait for Liam's answer before he climbed out the car to meet Alexa next to hers. She was dressed for the office in a navy-blue skirt suit, impossibly high heels and a shimmering white silk blouse. She'd swept her blonde hair into an elegant 'something' he doubted many men could name, the strawberry highlights within it shining in the sunlight.

It wasn't until he was nearly by her side, that he realised she also carried a navy-blue purse that looked as if it was about to burst at the seams.

"Mornin', Alexa. Any news from Mr Oran yet?"

Alexa looked ill at ease, as if something was worrying her. Nathan decided that worry probably came with the job description. Their boss could be demanding when he wanted to be— not necessarily a bad thing, in Nathan's estimation.

"Morning, Nathan. Yes, actually, I have. He wants me to go to Scotland, to return a car to our offices," Alexa replied.

"Can't he return it himself?" Nathan asked, "or get someone else to do it? You've kinda got your hands full here, Alexa. I can't believe Ross is happy about you going off like this."

Alexa's unease visibly increased. She glanced back at the house and messed up her perfectly glossed lips by chewing on the bottom one. "Yes, well, the car in question is an Oran Industries' prototype and I have no choice, so neither does he. He'll just have to get over it."

Nathan almost choked, managing to turn it into a passable cough. Alexa didn't sound like the adoring, loving wife he believed most partners to be. From what Liam had told him, the bond between her and Ross was off the chart for closeness and passion, but that wasn't how she was acting right now. _Women_ — Nathan doubted he'd ever understand them.

"Well... I suppose not," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and eyeing her warily.

He was relieved when Alexa snapped back into her PA role. "Anyway, trip or not, I wanted you to have this." She thrust her purse at him.

He took it automatically. "You want me to have your purse?"

"I want you to have what's _inside_ the purse," Alexa clarified. When he went to open it, she shot out a hand to stop him, glancing back up at the house. "Don't be an _idiot_ ," she hissed. "If I wanted the contents displayed, I wouldn't have bothered concealing them, _would I_?"

Nathan felt his cheeks heat. "Oh, no... don't suppose you would. Okay," he looked down at the purse, "I'll be sure to keep it safe for you then, until you get back."

Alexa relaxed. "Thank you, Nathan. Oh, and just one more thing, would you pass a message on to Joseph for me?"

Still puzzling over the purse, Nathan's reply was somewhat distracted. "Yeah, no problem, what do you want me to tell 'im?"

Alexa unlocked the car and climbed behind the wheel. She leaned out the window. "Just tell him to remember that _all_ Chems are good at hiding what they are, and that sometimes a person isn't who they seem," she said, before driving off.

Nathan stared after her until the car disappeared from view. What on earth had _that_ been about? He retraced his steps and settled himself back in the car, then opened the purse. Rosa's notebook and what he presumed was her journal was inside. He gaped at them, knowing that both needed to be destroyed. He was surprised at how much he hated the idea and wondered why Alexa had given them to him _now_ , surely Rosa would realise they were gone?

His mind turned over the puzzle pieces, but none of them fitted together, especially not Alexa's message for Joseph. Nathan picked up the radio and switched it to the correct channel.

Joseph was as puzzled as he was by Alexa's message. What she'd said was obvious— _everyone_ knew that Chems were experts when it came to disguising their talents. So why did she think they needed reminding of that?

It wasn't until the following day, when Sebastian's call came through, that any of them grasped the enormity of what Alexa had been trying to tell them.

They'd been blind fools.

# Chapter 12

She'd lost track of how many days they'd been held here.

Over that time, Rosa had come to realise the full horror of what her dad had meant on that first day. She _was_ too young to die. The fact that _he_ might be the one to kill her hadn't entered her head. She wanted to cry out at the injustice of it. She knew he fought the urge, but how long could he hold on?

The cold metal at her back was a welcome respite from the heat slowly building within their prison. She knew whatever was happening to her father was affecting her too. Her memories were becoming fuzzy... she was finding it hard to hold on to the image of those she'd seen recently. Her mom, Miss Clacher, her friend Angie... was that her name or was it Alice? She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate.

"Rosalyn?" Her whispered name echoed off the impenetrable walls.

Instantly wide-eyed, she stared at the speaker.

Her dad looked so different, nothing like he should. His face was haggard, seeming to have aged decades over the days they'd been incarcerated. Beads of sweat seeped out of his skin, lining his upper lip and forehead, and dotting the shadows beneath his eyes. His clothes were visibly damp with perspiration. She knew, just by looking at him, that his skin would be burning hot.

But that was nothing. What tore at her heart were his eyes. They were fixed, the pupils dilated, blood rising to colour the white tissue, whilst silver and crimson swirled around his irises. She could hardly believe they'd once been like hers, a dark chocolate brown.

It terrified her.

"Rosalyn, are you afraid of me?"

Guilt invaded her thoughts as she realised she'd yet to answer him, but her vocal cords refused to cooperate, her mouth opening and closing ineffectually.

She shook her head in answer, desperately trying to force sound through over-dry lips.

He attempted a smile but pain corrupted the gesture, turning it into a grimace. "That's good, little one. I couldn't bear..."

She didn't hear the rest of his words as his body suddenly convulsed. He gripped his head, fingers tunnelling through corn gold hair. His face contorted, eyes tight shut.

Instinctively she started across the gap that separated them, her only thought to help him.

He must have heard her movements.

His eyes flew open, wide and angry. " _NO!_ Stay where you are. I don't want you touching me!"

The force of the words knocked her back, until she was once more pressed against the wall, her confused gaze pinned to him. "But... Dad," she whispered. "Why won't you let me help you?"

Silence. For one heartbeat, two, three... "It's too dangerous," he finally replied. "I wish you were old enough to understand, wish I could explain this in a way that made sense, but I can't. Just... stay where you are and don't move." He dragged in a breath. The sound was harsh, wheezing, _wrong._ "We mustn't give up, Rosalyn. They'll come for us, you'll see."

"Who will?"

He frowned, as if he too were having trouble with his memory. " _They_ will, baby girl. That's all that matters."

_Baby girl_. The name stirred something in Rosa's mind. Someone else had called her that... and _little one_. She looked back at her dad. Someone with hair almost the same colour as his. She tried to catch hold of the fleeting pictures in her mind, but frustration got the better of her. "Why can't I remember?!" she shouted, giving way to the tears she'd forced back.

"Because that's the one thing I can do for you, little one," her dad whispered. "Your mom and I were wrong— we should never have shown you our natural state. It only made things worse. Let me finish what I've started, let me take away the last of it..."

Rosa didn't know what he was talking about. Her head hurt, as if the inside of it was heating up as rapidly as the air around her and she felt _so_ tired. Her inner-self drifted along on a tide of weariness until, without warning, a cold sensation pushed its way through her body, shocking her back into the here and now. It was like standing under a deluge of spring rain, allowing it to roll over her, cleansing away every impurity.

"Did you hear that?" her dad asked suddenly.

Feeling strangely peaceful, Rosa hardly cared, but she listened. She _could_ hear something, a commotion outside the door, shouts and... was that gunfire? She held her breath as tension returned, flashing along her muscles. Were they about to be rescued or was this a trick by their captors, to give them false hope?

Her dad's eyes gleamed with exactly that. "Please let it be them... the Lifelights," he whispered.

Rosa stared at him, not understanding. "Lifelights? What are those?" she asked.

"Never mind, little one, you've never heard of them before and that's just as it should be," her dad replied, leaving her more confused than ever. "Listen... it's gone quiet again..." his voice trailed off as he tried to rise to his feet, but the effort was too much for him. He collapsed back to the floor of the steel room.

"So sorry..." he gasped. "Not sure how long I can hold on, little one."

Rosa stilled, her attention torn between concern for her dad and the urge to go and press her ear to the room's door. She stayed where she was, listening intently. Nothing...

Her head began to throb again, she rubbed her right palm across it in a bid to wipe away the discomfort. She couldn't remember anything before this metal box... how long had they been here? She glanced back at her dad. What had he called her? _Little one_... something about the name felt wrong as if _he_ shouldn't be the one calling her that.

Their attention was caught by a clicking sound that came from the other side of the door. It was easy to recognise— the security lock was being opened.

As the door was pushed wide, Rosa's breath stuttered to a halt. She stared, wide eyed, at the figures coming through the door; her body tensed.

Then she screamed out the name that had been battering against her unconscious mind, the name she'd hunted for, and felt arms grabbing her.

From every direction came chaotic noise and voices shouting, worsening the pain that pulsed inside her head

Rosa felt herself being moved. Her hair billowed out behind her with the speed of movement.

Then came the blast of an explosion, and the world around her erupted into incandescent light.

In that single moment, Rosa realised the truth... Her fate had been set a _long_ time ago.

THE BEGINNING

* * * *

THANK YOU FOR READING

'HUNTING LIGHT'

I HOPE YOU'VE ENJOYED THIS PREQUEL NOVELLA TO 'THE LIFELIGHT SERIES'

ALINA VOYCE

* * * *

The Lifelights return in:

'Lifelights'

Book 1 of the Lifelight Series

www.alinavoyce.com

# About The Author

Alina Voyce is the author of The Lifelight Series of books. She was born in rural East Yorkshire in 1968 and has lived within a sixty mile radius of that same point ever since.

Alina is a wife, the mother of two teenagers (scary) and according to one friend, a 'deep thinker'. The Lifelight Series is the end result of lots of deep thinking.

She is currently working on the penultimate book in the Lifelight Series, 'Chemical Light'.

For more information about Alina Voyce and the Lifelights please visit her website:

www.alinavoyce.com
