
Crows Among

Doves

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Kristin James

Copyright (C) 2016 Kristin James

All rights reserved

# CONTENTS

1 A Realization

2 A Darker Crow

3 A Family Matter

4 Ruby

5 Feral

6 A Bitter Pill

7 A Strange Truth

8 A Threat

9 A Hunting Ground

10 A Taste

About the Author & Other Books

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# 1 A Realization

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THE AIR WAS SO COLD, that it felt grey. Everything felt grey. It was a bleak and dreary mid-morning on Friday, in June; it was nearing the end of the school year, but Emie had already started to give up on her education. Glancing down at her silver wrist watch, she noticed that the time had quickly passed, and that it was going to be impossible to get to class on time.

She threw her cigarette to the floor, and stamped it out with her canvas skate shoes, waiting. Her friend was late, as usual. But, she'd made it her duty to wait for him, that morning. He'd been absent for a while, and Emie wanted to assure him that she hadn't forgotten. After all, he'd always been there for her in the past. Cutting through the grey fog that skirted the cement came two golden shafts of light, and Emie stared intently, attempting to identify the car that was casting the brilliant lights.

It was a large black car, sleek and matte, all the windows tinted, enough to block her vision inside. It stopped directly in front of her, and she pushed herself off the wall to greet him. The two back doors clicked open, and two near identical siblings got out of either side. Joshua was stood on the road, whilst Rose was the closest to Emie. He stared at her for a second, then slammed the door shut, mumbling something incomprehensible to his sister for a moment.

"Emie," he said softly, undertones of sorrow to his melodic voice. Rose walked past her, laughing - almost as if she was mocking her, as per the norm. Rose had a certain charm about her, a wicked way of making a person feel inferior simply by her existence. Rose sure had beauty, and grace, and elegance; it was almost as if she was too good to be true. Long black cascading hair, a tight and thin body, slight features and dazzlingly bright blue eyes. Her skin was porcelain - so fine, so delicate. But there was an abnormal aggression to her gaze.

Joshua walked to her with his arms wide open, and he wrapped both of them around her. His thick, black knitted sweater was warm, and the familiar scent intoxicated her. Before she closed her eyes and buried her face in the fluffy knit, she watched the car drive away almost silently. He placed a hand on her head, slightly messing up her poker-straight brown pony-tail.

"It's been a while," she whispered. She was still locked inside his arms; their friendship, despite often facing troubles, had always been solid. As a friend, she was worried beyond belief. Joshua hadn't told her what was wrong, why he hadn't been answering his calls, why he wasn't attending class.

"Indeed it has." He finally let her go, and she sighed, smiling. "A lot has happened but we should probably get to our lesson, right?" With a chuckle, the two headed up the cement stairs to the main reception. It was a short walk, but Joshua stood at roughly six foot, whereas Emie stood at a mere five foot- she began to lose her breath by the time they reached the reception.

It was stuffy inside the reception office. The ruddy receptionist was reading her magazine, and the news was being shown on the large flat-screen TV that had been recently installed. The seating area towards the back of the room was empty apart from a middle-aged woman holding a gym kit, presumably for her son. Joshua coughed to get the receptionists attention, but she didn't put the magazine down.

"Yeah?"

"We need to be signed in as late." New procedures throughout the school meant that anybody arriving late had to sign in through reception. It was a useless protocol, that didn't serve any particular purpose; but since the school had been taken over by the Academy Trust, everything had been changed. Emie thought it was a power trip for the head master. He was changing things that didn't need to be changed, firing staff that deserved their job, and hiring new members of staff who couldn't even teach the basics. Emie was glad to be leaving that year - most of the exams were done with, all of her coursework had been submitted and graded. Now it was a waiting game to finish off the final exams, and prepare for college.

"Write ya' names down on that list, there. I ain't gotta do nothin'."

"Of course. Might I have a pen?"

"There's some in the pot." Her blatant disregard for the students agitated Emie, but she knew that she couldn't say anything. She had once attempted to say something to a member of staff, but was greeted by a hateful response and with threats of suspension.

Joshua wrote the names of both himself and Emie, as well as their student identification numbers and lessons on the piece of paper. He forged the times, to make it seem as though they weren't as late as they actually were - nobody would check, anyway. Not like the receptionist cared, and the teacher's couldn't access the registers after the second bell rang.

They walked back out, taking their time to get to the fifth block which had been designated the English block. Around the school grounds, there were several buildings, each named a 'block', and each building had up to three assigned lessons. Block Five was English, Music, and it also housed the gymnasium with access to the outside sports field. It was a mish-mash of lessons, but Emie didn't take Music, or gym class: in fact, most of her lessons were finished after the exam.

The cold air outside of the reception lashed at Emie like a thousand whips. Though their pace should have been enough to keep her warm, she found herself freezing. The pale grey yard was barren except for a few students obviously keen to miss a lesson, and a handful of cars that belonged to teachers. It was a dismal sight - Emie found it to be depressing, even when it was full of high school children.

Inside of the block, however, it was warm - the smell of fresh carpets and paint was potent enough to make her reel backwards for a second. Up the stairs, past the loud classes of the first years, and finally to room 54, the name 'MR MORRISEY' etched in big black letters across the top of the door. Mr Morrisey had been there for years - Emie's father used to know him from when he attended the same high school. Joshua knocked on the door lightly, and then pushed it open.

"I'm so sorry that we're late, we got held up in grid-lock traffic, this morning." Emie and Joshua pushed their way past the desks and to the back of the class, where they usually sat. There was one row of tables behind them, and four in front; Mr Morrisey was getting old, and didn't particularly plan lessons, and being seated so far back allowed them to do whatever they wanted.

His grey gaze dropped onto Joshua, and he scoffed, holding up the purple and white book. His copy was crumpled and losing colour as it aged, and his entire outfit seemed to be doing the same. The sleeves weren't as neat as they should be, the collars were slightly ruffled and his shirt wasn't tucked in all the way.

"Page thirteen onwards. Use of colour, I want you to start writin' an essay. Get it to me by next lesson."

"Yes, sir," Joshua said, settling into his seat, looking at Emie. Behind them was Keelan and Chi - two people that neither Joshua nor Emie spoke to, but they were vaguely acquainted with. Both of them were invited to Emie's party, that evening. It wasn't really Emie's thing, but, she figured that she was only young once, and that she needed to at least try once to have some sort of fun.

Emie brushed her brown fringe out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, with slender fingers that were decorated with temporary henna ink and thin gold rings.

"Party at nine, right?" Chi's voice was high pitched. She was half Japanese, mixed with Irish and Korean. Her frame was slender and short, but her eyes were a mesmerizing blue, similar to Joshua's.

"Yeah, that's correct." Emie smiled at Joshua, who was smirking. She raised her brow and looked shocked. "What?" Both of them laughed.

"We both know that you don't do the whole party thing. You sit at home on your laptop studying or on that blogging website. You don't play loud music nor do you get drunk or high. That's just not the Emie I know."

"Well, people change, Josh. And I really wanna know what it's like, you know? To be one of the wild and rebellious teens."

"I used to always invite you to parties, and you never came, even though I promised I wouldn't get drunk, or high, and I wouldn't let you get drunk, or high. I used to make all the arrangements for you to have a bedroom to sleep in and generally have a nice night, but you never came."

It was true - something that had irked Joshua for the longest time was her dislike of partying. It was obvious, to her, why parties were a bad thing. She had always hated the idea of being unable to control herself properly whilst under the influence, and it seemed somewhat unreasonable to be expected to do so. Her ideal evenings were as he described - studying, on her laptop, and eating fast food, or ice cream. She wasn't one to get drunk and party all night long.

"I'm sorry, but you know I've always just wanted to... relax. And dancing and smoking isn't relaxing to me."

"Oh, come on, you smoke all the time."

"Not... not drugs."

"I know, I'm teasing." He half-smiled, pulling the books out of his bag and placing them on the table. "I was thinking if you don't want to be too involved tonight then I can come over after this lesson. I don't have history or French because I already finished the exams and coursework, and I'm pretty sure it's the same for you, am I correct?"

"Yeah, this was a waste of my time, really. Coming in for this one lesson."

"I know exactly how you feel. But they'll probably kick us out if we just didn't attend, so it's better to be safe, than sorry. So, I'm coming over after this lesson, right?"

"If you'd like to. I mean there will be a good eight hours until the party but you're more than welcome to. Maybe we can catch up on some things. I really need to talk to you about some stuff, especially the fact that you haven't been answering most of my calls lately."

"Yeah, about that..." He scratched the back of his head, sheepishly.

"We can leave it until you're at mine, it won't be as... well, it'll be less likely that someone will overhear, if you didn't want everyone else to know."

"Alright, we can talk about it when we get to your house, then." He smiled, and started writing down some notes. They were made up - his copy of the novel wasn't even open, yet, but he was good at that. Making stuff up in class. He never seemed to listen, but he always knew the answers. It was bizarre how he did it, but it seemed to be a useful skill. In all of the time that she had known him, he had always been at the top of his classes, despite never studying - Emie, however, used to work hard. Every night she studied, only to come in second place compared to people like Joshua and Rose. However, Rose was in the year group below, so luckily enough, Emie was never pitted against her in tests, despite being relayed information from Joshua that Rose was constantly getting to the top of her class.

The hour long class passed rather quickly. Emie had managed to make a few of her own legitimate notes, but had primarily copied Joshua's. By the end of the lesson, Mr Morrisey was practically asleep, and Joshua had been telling Emie a myriad of fantastic stories about the nineteenth century. They were vivid, and well imagined. Joshua spoke with such enthusiasm and wonder that it made him seem like a person that had experienced life in the nineteenth century. As they left the block, they were faced with the extreme winds once again that had only gained in strength since they had entered the building.

The colour of the sky should have been a somewhat bright blue, but instead, the dirty-coloured clouds were blocking most of the sunlight, and rendering the whole world to seem dank and miserable. There were occasional bouts of colour, though - each tiny modicum of colour a single expression of hope in a cruel world.

She felt a hand wrap around her upper arm, and she immediately looked up.

"What are you doing?"

"You're as cold as ice," his voice was soft and soothing, just like it always was. He pulled his bag off of his shoulder and unzipped it, pulling out a large thick hooded jacket, and forcing it onto her.

"There, isn't that better?" She initially struggled against it, but nodded slowly. The soft fleece lining against her neck and hands was a welcome addition to her outfit. Looking upwards, glancing at the sky she knew it was going to rain.

"Thanks... you're seriously too kind to me, sometimes, you know?"

"Aren't I just a gift?" She laughed at him, burying her face into the lining of the jacket. It smelled like AXE deodorant, and something else that she simply couldn't put her finger on. It was nice, but she couldn't associate it with anything that was known to her.

They decided that it was best to take the shortcut, which traced a path alongside a canal. It took less than half of the time, but it was decidedly treacherous when compared to the relative safety of the long route.

Below their feet, mud squelched and stuck to whatever litter had been thrown there by the degenerates who wasted their hours by the canals at night. It quickly became a dangerous place, when the darkness fell - and it would be easy for a girl like Emie, to simply go missing into the evening if she was alone. She'd never been fond of walking alone, but at night she'd only walked along the canal once - and it was with Joshua. He wasn't particularly menacing.... He was skinny, but tall - very defined, with very little muscle to him. Unless he was standing in just his underwear, it was very hard to tell he had any sort of muscle to him.

He grabbed her hand, and she flinched away, but quickly relaxed into his grip. The warmth of his fingers against hers was reassuring, and whilst they weren't officially an item, the prospect of such a thing had crossed her mind, and she thought that it may have even crossed his, too. He forced her to speed up as they walked, dodging the huge puddles and slabs of earth that were falling into the canal.

In only thirty minutes, they arrived at Emie's house. They entered through the back gate, which led into the nicely-decorated garden complete with a pool, grill and decking area. The double sliding doors were locked, and Emie fumbled around with her keys for a few minutes before they could enter.

"Hey, leave your shoes at the door, please." They both kicked off their shoes and left them there, before walking into the open-plan kitchen-lounge room.

"Your mother not here?"

"Ha, when is she?" Emie spat out sarcasm lacing her words.

"Do you... do you want to talk about it, Em?"

"About what? The fact that my mom is a complete tool? Who doesn't care about me?"

"Em," he looked at her with remorse.

"What? You know that it's true. Ever since..." she sighed, sitting on the sofa. "Ever since my dad died, everything's been a mess. Mom doesn't want to know me. I don't want to do anything. My grades have dropped and I don't care."

"It's been years, Em. You can't let it get to you like this."

"Wow, Josh. You ever lose someone you love?" She sneered at him.

"Em, you know... you know I have."

"Oh, Josh. I'm... I'm so sorry. You know, you should go, I don't want to hurt you, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Joshua's family were all dead, except for his aunt and sister. His uncle had just recently died, apparently from cancer. Death seemed to be a real common issue in this town.

"I'm not going anywhere, I want to make sure that you're okay, right? If you're not up for the party, you can always lock the door and say you gave out the wrong address." She laughed slightly, sinking backwards into the sofa and covering her face with her hands.

"Nah, it'll be okay. I just... I need to go get changed out of these clothes, into something warmer, I think."

"That's a good idea, want me to do anything while you're upstairs?"

"No, you just... you just sit there for a bit, a'right?"

He nodded at her before sitting down next to where Emie had previously been sitting. She walked slowly up the stairs, resting on the wall at every chance she got. Her mother's bedroom door was closed, as usual. No sign of her having been there recently. Since the death of her father, her mother hadn't been coping too well. Business trips became all to frequent, and the only reason that Emie was able to live without her mother was because of the weekly allowance that was deposited into Emie's bank account, and the fact that all of the bills had been paid monthly by her mother.

She pulled off Joshua's jacket, letting it linger in her grasp for a few seconds before throwing it on to the bed, and then gently pulling her cardigan and shirt off. Opening her wardrobe for something to wear, the elegant red silk of her favourite underwear set caught her eye. Taking a moment to un-clasp her bra and take it off, Emie realised that she needed to treat herself to new clothes more often. The urge to go and shop right now rose up - of course, there was no way that it was possible, but she wanted to.

After getting dressed into her favourite underwear and a man's shirt, and high waist jeans, she felt... renewed. To her, there was nothing better than getting into a fresh set of clothes. It made her feel... different, but she didn't know why.

There was a sudden clanking from the kitchen area, and Emie bolted down the stairs to see what was happening. Joshua was standing in the kitchen, cooking something. On the side was a myriad of ingredients, all in a blue plastic bag that she knew came from the store down the road.

"Did I really take so long to get dressed that you decided to go to the store?" She chuckled shyly.

"Yeah, sadly. So I'm making pancakes with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and strawberries. That sound good to you? Because it sounds really good to me." There was a broad grin on his face as he flipped a pancake, and she was happy to know that he felt at home here, at least someone did.

Glancing over to the table, she noticed that there was at least a dozen full bottles of liquor laid out with tumblers and paper cups, all ready to be drank at the party. She walked over to him, looking at the pancake. It looked nice, and despite the fact she wanted to reach her goal weight, she wanted to eat them desperately.

Joshua turned, gently placing the pancake on the plate, and then added the syrup, cream and a single strawberry on the top, before handing it to Emie along with a knife and fork.

"Bon appetit," he cooed. She inhaled the rich scents, realising that Josh was an excellent cook, even if it was only a pancake. The pair headed over to the sofa and they sat beside one another. Gently tearing off a small chunk, she looked at how fluffy the pancake was. Emie could never get a pancake to look so wonderful. Usually, her pancakes burned, or just generally didn't look, or taste very appealing. She bit into it - it tasted divine.

"This tastes great, wow." She spoke with her mouth full, and Joshua cringed slightly, but smiled anyway, flipping his jaw-length black hair backwards, and then tying it up into a small bun near his crown.

"Wow, you with a man bun. Next, you'll be telling me you want to work at Abercrombie and Fitch." She laughed at her own mediocre joke.

#

THINKING ABOUT SCHOOL, she was reminded about how hard her earlier years had been. Constant torment from bullies had made everything hard for her. Depression had kicked in at an extremely early age, but that was the fault of the school - bad people made her feel subpar. She was made to feel like some sort of outcast because of her likes and dislikes. Working hard had branded her with the reputation as a nerd; something she used to think was reserved for Hollywood film bullies that were ticking every cliche box that existed.

Things got easier when her friendship with Joshua began, he was immensely popular. All of the students wanted to be him, or be with him. Before she was his friend, it was common for her to hear girls speaking about him. He wasn't particularly attractive, but he had a unique sense of statuesque beauty to him. In fact, both he and Rose were considered the most attractive at the school. If not for their exemplar complexions, it was because of their grace, their mannerisms, and their chiseled features. They were angelic.

Though, with the death of her father, they started to drift apart. Rose had also been placing a strain on their relationship for some time, but they had both tried to ignore her to the best of their ability. In more recent months, Rose simply made life hell for Emie in any way that she could. Sometimes, she thought about becoming friends with Rose, if it were even possible. Surely by doing that, they would stop fighting like cats and dogs.

They'd had the television turned on for quite some time, and she began to grow tired. She closed her eyes for just a moment, but when she opened them again, she was lying down on Joshua's lap, and he too appeared to be sleeping. His breathing was so quiet, he didn't even appear to be breathing at all. She sighed, turning over, pushing her head into his stomach and closing her eyes again. She hoped that they would wake up before the party. After all, she was the hostess.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't get back to sleep. She was warm enough, she was tired enough, and as far as she was aware, she didn't need anything. She sat upright, and Josh opened his eyes slowly, then looked around.

Glancing down at his watch, he furrowed his brow slightly before standing up.

"What's wrong?"

"It's ten past eight, I need to grab some stuff, need anything from the store? You should go get dressed into something... neater."

Looking down, Emie couldn't understand what was wrong with her outfit; nodding to his remark, she stood up. "Grab me a chocolate bar, please?" It was a simple enough request - she wanted him to feel useful.

"Yes, ma'am." He turned and left through the door after picking up his shoes. The house was eerily still and quiet once he'd left: it gave her time to think.

What were they doing? Were they going to begin dating officially? A lot of questions came to her, but not a lot of answers. There was a loud bang from upstairs that startled her but she muffled her breathing despite its hastening. Was it Josh? Was it Rose?

She took a tiny step forward, and then there was another bang... and then silence. Carefully walking around, her mind went directly to the worst case scenario: somebody had gotten inside the house whilst they were asleep. Emie grabbed a knife from the counter, and walked to the stairwell, taking a deep breath before slowly walking up the stairs, hugging the edges to keep quiet. There wasn't another noise - but she figured it came from her room - it was the only door that was open, and the two other doors on the landing made a noise when they opened which would have been enough to wake at least one of the pair up.

With the tips of her fingers, she pushed the door open. Part of her wanted to close her eyes in case somebody was there. Part of her wanted to run back down the stairs and pretend nothing had happened. Once the door was open completely, she noticed her windows open, but nobody was there. She was uncertain if the windows had been left open by her or not - though it seemed rather unlikely that they had been opened by an intruder. The drop was directly down onto cement - a fall that would break the bones of any normal person, or at least hurt them considerably.

Her eyes darted around the room, attempting to find a trace of an intruder. Her bathroom door was wide open, as it always was. Essentially, Emie lived by herself - there was simply no need for privacy. Nobody was in her bathroom, she sighed.

Turning back around, she felt silly. It was just the wind, or... something. Her body was still poised with fear - every part of her was stuck in the responsive fight-or-flight mode.

"There's nobody else here," she whispered to herself as she walked down the stairs. Nobody was there - it was all in her head.

The draw made a loud noise as she slammed it, the knife promptly back in its correct place. As she sat down onto the sofa, she wanted Joshua to go back. Though she knew that nobody was there, and that her mind was just playing tricks, Emie didn't feel entirely safe in her own house. Her gaze lost focus as her eyes dropped into the garden. As she brought it back into focus, she saw a shadow that seemed vaguely unnatural - one that probably shouldn't have been there. But again, her mind was playing cruel tricks on her.

The time passed slowly. Every tiny noise startled her, constantly causing her to check around the room for what had caused it. The shadow that was in the garden, the one that seemed unnatural, held her eye for most of the time she spent on her own. There was something strange about how it was positioned. She couldn't place her finger on what was casting the shadow, but fear gripped her - she didn't want to go outside and see what it was. There was a sense about the air that made her feel like she was being watched. As though the gaze of something bigger than her was watching, waiting, stalking, prowling.

When the door opened, she jumped upright, backing towards the wall. She saw Joshua kick his shoes off and drop a bag to the floor. Emie laughed at herself, once there was obviously no need to be afraid. Before Joshua walked into the living area, he looked up the stairs, inhaling deeply, then exhaling sharply. A small smile spread across his face as he approached her, holding a chocolate bar out for her.

"Thank you!"

"Are you alright? You look pale, did something happen?"

"No, no, I'm quite fine, thanks." Opening the bar proved to be a challenge for her shaking fingers. "You go up to the store too often, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Turning on his heels, he grabbed a bottle of alco-pop, and presented it to Emie. "I went and got another, let's drink this one now. A celebration of our friendship, past, present, and future."

She chuckled. "That's a silly idea."

He popped open the bottle, throwing the cap to the floor and taking a large swig from the bottle directly, before passing it to Emie. She drank a little, the flavours were nice. It didn't taste like alcohol at all; it had a sweet and sugary aftertaste and reminded her of energy drinks.

Suddenly, there was a knocking at the door, and Josh turned, leaving Emie stood on her own for a few moments. Josh said something before stepping backwards and allowing Rose to enter the room, along with a male who was slightly shorter than her, and contrasted her appearance greatly: he was tanned with deep black eyes and bleached blonde hair that appeared to be natural. Rose, as usual, was dressed to impress, and Emie, as usual, felt inferior. There was just something about her...

"Emie, this is Clayton."

"Aye, pleased to meet you, Emie!" Clayton held a hand out, and Emie approached him with caution and shook it.

"Pleased to meet you too."

Rose glanced around. "There should be some people here in, I don't know... give it maybe five minutes? Saw some of 'em when we were walking down."

"Yeah, they all appeared drunk already though."

"Well that just means there's more alcohol for us, then!"

There was a pit in Emie's stomach - she had never hosted, or even been, to a party before. This was all new to her, and she didn't entirely like the idea of a swarm of drunken teenagers in her house. It didn't seem right. At least, not to her. To Rose and Josh, she thought, it seemed entirely normal.

People flowed into the house quickly at first, and the noise became all too much for her. A headache started to come on, and she didn't want to sit inside the house with so many people. Rose had started dancing with a guy who Emie didn't know, and Joshua was uncomfortably stood in the kitchen with Clayton.

She wanted to leave the house, maybe even just go and sit outside. As she approached Joshua, both Clayton and Josh perked up. Josh held a drink out, and she politely rejected.

"Can we go sit outside or something? I don't feel that great."

"Yeah... that's fine, isn't it, Clayton?" He nodded in response to Josh, and the three walked towards the sliding doors, and then exited. As Clayton closed the door behind him, the noise was almost entirely limited to the house - not much spilled out of the room, and it was quiet. The dank night air was perforated by the sound of owls, and crickets, and Emie swore she heard a wolf or coyote. Their entire town was surrounded by forest, and lakes, with a large mountain overlooking the north side of the town. Joshua's house (which she had never been to) was near the mountain - or at least that is what she had been told.

They spoke for a few minutes, nothing important, only small talk about the weather. Joshua gave Emie a drink of the same alcoholic soda she'd had before. After a few bottles, she began to feel drunk. But Joshua was equally as drunk and Clayton was so calm and quiet that he was hardly even there.

"Are you sure that you're alright, Em? You said you had a headache?"

"Yeah I just feel a bit... upset?"

"What about?"

Clayton smiled before standing up, nearly falling. "You guys... I'll... I'm going into the house, is it right with you, Emie, if I just fall asleep somewhere? I'll be gone by morning but I feel like shit..."

"That's fine, don't worry, Clayton."

"Right... bye, both of ya."

Emie and Joshua both watched as he stumbled towards the house and fell over the table in the living room. Glancing at her wristwatch, she noticed it was close to midnight - the people had been there for quite some time, and only at that moment was she finally alone with Joshua. She'd been feeling upset, and needed to speak with someone.

"I miss my dad, Josh."

"I know you do."

"But like, I really, really miss him," she sighed. "Sometimes, when my mom's here, I like to pretend he's still around. But no, the stupid idiot got himself killed. Just my luck, right?"

"Em, it's not your fault."

"Mom doesn't care, nobody wants me. Dad hated me enough to put himself through that much risk... and for what?"

Joshua took a deep breath before changing seats to sit next to Emie, placing an arm around her shoulders. "It was a car accident. It wasn't your dad that was speeding, and you know that. He was just driving down a motorway and... it just happened. And your mom does care, you are wanted. You are loved."

"I'm sorry, Josh, but I don't feel it. Nobody gives a shit. So long as I just keep my grades up, everyone's happy. But I'm not." She fidgeted awkwardly under the moonlight. The silence allowed her to hear the quiet chirping in the distance. "Josh...?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's that...?"

He turned, to try and see who she meant.

"Josh, I think that's..."

"I can't see anyone, you're being stupid."

"I think there was someone in my house, earlier..."

He immediately looked back at her, concerned. "What do you mean? Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was nobody when I checked. I couldn't find a single person. I didn't want to worry you if there was nobody... but I think there's someone down the side alley, Josh."

Her voice was low, kept to almost a whisper, but Joshua seemed bemused.

"There's nobody there, now either. Look, I can see directly to the gate and there's nobody there."

"Right, sure, of course there's not."

Neither wanted to say anything for a few moments; the awkward air that surrounded them lasted for a while longer, lingering even after discussion had resumed.

"Do you wanna, I don't know, go out?" Joshua smiled.

"As in, on a date? Or something?"

"Yeah." Joshua rubbed the back of his neck.

She looked around, sighed, and then scratched her head.

"I'm not sure that this is the best time, Josh. But, I'm willing to give it a try."

There was a loud rustling behind them, and Emie launched herself forward, spinning around, attempting to see what was creating the noise.

"That's great to hear, but honestly, there's nobody here. It's a windy night - you've gotta calm down a little, okay? I think you're drunk, actually. Do you want to sleep?"

"No, and I'm not drunk!"

Joshua stood up, wrapping an arm around her and twisting her, helping her to walk towards the house. "You're tired, and you're drunk. Go to bed, I'll make sure everyone clears out at a reasonable time... you... you need a good night's sleep. You'll forget about this whole stranger nonsense by the morning."

"It isn't nonsense."

"Of course it isn't."

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# 2 A DARKER CROW

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"YOU NEVER TALK ABOUT your parents," she said, sipping on the clean white mug. The coffee store bustled with life, but the corner of the room where they were sat was cool, with a discouraging view of the storm outside of the window.

"It never came up," he said, putting his mug down at the same time as Emie. "I never really saw the point in trying to talk about some people who aren't here anymore... do you understand?"

She didn't. She wanted to know; every time she spoke of her deceased family, she felt relief. Clearly, Joshua had been avoiding the topic, and that was his excuse. "But I want to know."

"If you must know, then go ahead and ask away. I was only young when they died, though, so I can't remember much."

"How old were you?"

"I was nine."

"What happened?"

"Well, Em, I'm not sure," his lips curved into a beautiful smile, one full of confidence and sincerity. "I can remember that they went on holiday together. And that was it. Some people wanted to talk to Rose and I about them, but our uncle never let us go. I don't understand why."

Emie felt a veil of anxiety cover her. She felt bad about probing him for information about his parents, and she didn't want to upset him, but she wanted to know. "What were they like?"

Josh laughed a little, drinking from his mug before sighing. "They were beautiful. My mother was Moira. Irish, I think. She was obsessed with studying. As was my father. Vincent Ryan--known for his science work. I'm unsure what brought them together, considering my mother was Irish. I've been told she came over here when she was in her early twenties, and she was maybe twenty-nine when she had me, thirty when Rose came bouncing along."

"It must have been hard."

"Well, my aunt Harriet took us on for a while. But she fell ill in the summer of my twelfth birthday, so my uncle took us."

"Were they divorced?"

"Not really. They were brother and sister. Always fighting. But my uncle was constantly at her side when she was ill. She made a quick recovery, though I was never told what was wrong with her." The words slid out of his mouth like they were rehearsed - so perfectly spoke, so fluid. Was so much of his life shrouded from him?

A waiter came over, coughing as he did so. "Can I get you anything else?"

Josh looked at him, then back at Emie, who thought for a moment. "Yes, I want two iced frappes," Josh replied to him.

"So, you don't really know much about your own past and family?"

He laughed at the question. "No, but that's fine. The less I know, the less I worry... right? It's all for my own good." Again, his smooth, monotone voice sounded more like a recording than the loving description of parents and family.

The waiter came back a few moments later, with two iced frappes. He took away the used mugs and left them to it.

"How can you just accept that?"

He didn't reply. Emie sat and stared at him as he sipped the frappe through a straw. She couldn't understand why he wasn't responding, now. "I can," was his only response. He stood up, picking the plastic cup, too. "Come on, let's go somewhere else for a bit."

She followed him down the narrow paths between tables and out of the store. The sky was roaring with thunder, and the air seemed a dull grey colour. "It's cold, where are you taking me?"

They crossed the road and got into Josh's car. As she slid into it, she felt the cold leather beneath her. She slammed her door shut as he opened the driver's door to get in. His body was half in, and half out, for a few moments, as if he was trying to look at something in the distance. As he sat in properly, his face was contorted into concern.

"What's up?"

"I thought I saw someone, that's all. Not to worry, put your seatbelt on."

She put her seatbelt on and he put his on, too. The was a sense of hesitation as the car roared into life - he sat there for what seemed like ten minutes as he stared out of the windscreen.

Suddenly he started the car, and raced down the road at top speeds. He didn't slow down until they were on a main road, full of people. "What was that," she asked.

He turned to her, sighing. "I don't know. We're gonna go see my aunt. She's been asking me to go to hers for a month or so, now." He started the car again and continued down the road at a steady pace before taking a sharp right turn and then going down a forest path, not dissimilar to the one leading to Josh's house. There was a man stood outside the door, smoking a cigarette. He was too far in the distance for Emie to pick out specific features, though. Josh opened the door and walked over to the man. They spoke for a few moments, and then she noticed Josh laughing. Emie wanted to go over and see what was happening. Were they not going to see Joshua's aunt? Was she not there? Emie sat there and slid back a little, pulling her phone out of her jeans and checking the time. It was nearly midday, and she hadn't done anything productive. It didn't really matter, though, because she was with Josh. And the essay she had to do could wait. She clicked on an app on her phone to revise English work before Josh got back. Emie cared about her grades, and noticed that she hadn't done much revision. Prior to her relationship with Josh, she had studied every weekend, every hour, every day. It made a lot of sense to her to focus on education.

He came back to the car and opened the door. "Harriet isn't here, and her boyfriend doesn't know when she'll be back. That's Alex," Josh said, pointing up to the man stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette. "He's a bit young for Harriet, I think. But he says they're happy. He said we should come back tomorrow or at least try to come back at some point. She talks about me. Or at least that's what he said. Harriet can be a sentimental woman at times. I guess that's why we all love her so much."

"Could we not wait there?"

"No, not really. I don't think even her boyfriend can get in. I think that's why he's stood outside. As far as I can remember, you can smoke in the house."

Emie agreed with him and then sat back upright, closing the app that had been open on her phone. She didn't get much time to study but she had tried, right? One weekend away from her books, she thought, wasn't important.

The car jolted down the narrow forest path and past a clearing, leading back onto the road.

#

THEY DROVE DOWN AND out of the town and through two back streets. It was a half an hour drive before they got to Joshua's house. His inherited house was a large, and imposing, build, surrounded primarily by forests on the east, west and north sides, but standing proudly above a beach on the south. His house was also very contemporary, as was a favored style by his uncle who had built it ten years ago. It was mainly white and black, with deep red highlights and a lot of wood as well as glass. They drove up to the drive way and then they made their way into the house. Emie heard the car lock behind them as they made their way into the porch. They took their shoes off and she could smell bleach. The floor was wooden and it was cleaned every day, and the kitchen was the same area as the lounge and dining area, which meant the smell of bleach was strong in the hallway and lounge all the time.

Rose was sat on the floor in front of Clayton who was sat smoking a cigarette. When he saw Emie he smiled, then grinned at Josh before going back to his cigarette. Rose did not look at them, but rather remained seated and ignorant. They went into the kitchen and they sat opposite the large window.

"So, how are you?" His voice was moderate.

"I'm good. Can I have a drink? I've been drinking a lot of coffee and that so isn't good for me," she laughed. He nodded slowly and then walked over to the cupboard, taking out a sparkling clean glass before going to the fridge and taking out a bottle of orange juice.

"Orange juice, is that okay? We don't really have much else, because I haven't been shopping recently."

He poured her a glass and then slid it across the kitchen island counter top, before she picked it up and took a sip out of it. It was fresh with bits, and ice cold. Emie had always liked orange juice and a lot of other types of fruity drinks, especially cranberry juice. But because she usually had to go shopping, she usually gave up on getting the expensive fruit drinks. She would often simply opt for cola or energy drink packs. It wasn't particularly healthy, but she was still losing weight and she didn't look particularly unhealthy, did she?

She exhaled sharply as she finished off her drink of orange juice. It was so refreshing and she decided there that she was going to start buying more orange juice because it was good for her and made her feel better than soda or energy drinks did. IT was peculiar that she didn't buy it for herself, though because she had always liked it as a child. They both stood up and went into the lounge area. Rose stood up and shot dagger eyes at Emie. She walked over to her and poked her in the middle of her chest.

"You should go. You don't belong here." Clayton came behind her and pulled her away but she tried to shrug him off.

Josh looked at her. "Rose you should leave."

"No, I live here, don't I?"

"No, you don't. I own it now, Rose. And if I tell you to go, you can go. You shouldn't be here if all you can ever do if cause trouble for me and try to insult Emie."

Rose looked at Josh as if she was about to hit him, but Clayton held her back from him. Her mouth curved into a frown and her brow furrowed.

"But Clayton, you are welcome to stay."

Rose tried to hit Josh but he caught her hand before she managed to land a punch, and she she stormed out of the room, breathing heavily with fury and anger. They all stood there in disbelief. Clayton did not follow after her, which is probably what she wanted him to do. Clayton smiled at Josh.

"Is she always like that?" Josh nodded slowly before grabbing his coat off the sofa.

"I should go after her and tell her to come back once she's cooled off. She won't answer her phone to me, so I guess I need to talk to her. You guys stay here. Clayton, I trust you. Emie, I hope you have a good hour or so whilst I'm gone. She's always a trouble maker..."his voice trailed off and he was suddenly gone. Clayton stood staring at the door as though he was still trying to follow where his friend had gone.

"Want something to eat?" Clayton asked, walking off into the kitchen. She followed him and sat back in her seat that she had sat in when she was there with Josh He opened up the fridge and took out a chocolate bar. "Have this until Josh gets back, I suppose. You are really thin, you know that?"

She stammered an abortive laugh. He pointed out the obvious that she disliked most about herself. He went over to the seat where Josh had been and she opened up the chocolate. He was watching her intently as she ate. It was as if his gaze was burning into her, like he was trying to remember what she looked like or to analyze her appearance.

"You are pretty. I can see why Josh likes you." He smiled at her, as if what he said was utterly innocent.

What he said was not innocent though. Maybe he was trying to come onto her, or maybe he was just being nice and friendly but whatever it was Emie was not sure how to respond. She uttered another laugh before looking down at the table and then chewing on the chocolate bar a little more. She did not hear anything else for a few moments, and Clayton did not move. It was a peculiar sense of calm in the room though and it made her feel weird. His voice piped up again though and he asked her if she would like a drink. She said yes and he poured her some more orange juice in the same spotless glass. She drank a little before she decided to initiate conversation and ask him about Rose and how they managed to get together, She didn't think that Clayton was the type of person that Emie would think that Rose would get with but there he was, dating her. Maybe it made sense though. Maybe they were both lonely or something. Or maybe Joshua set them up to get together. Whichever way they got together, Emie felt that Clayton was probably much better than her. It wasn't right for Rose to be dating someone who seemed loyal. He reminded Emie of a puppy. Loyal, friendly.

And she considered him very attractive. Sure, he was the opposite of Joshua who in her opinion was highly attractive, but he was also attractive in another sense. His deep set, brown eyes matched his honey tanned skin and dirty hair. He looked like a Miami kid in her opinion. As he looked plainly into the air, she looked at him. He had defined facial features, like Joshua did, but they were different. Clayton's thick lips looked softer than Josh's, and his nose was more sharply curved. But Josh's cheeks were thinner and much more pronounced, and Clayton's were fuller. And the tan was the largest difference to Emie.

As he moved a little, the smell of cigarettes wafted towards her. He smelled very different compared to Joshua. Joshua smelled considerably fresh and like deodorant. Clayton smelled of cigarettes and musk, tainted with streaks of coffee. She pressed her black painted lips on the glass, not minding if she left more black prints on there. She turned her head and looked out of the window. She saw a man staring into the house, a figure of fear in the bright backdrop of the sunlit, pastel sky.

"Hey, Clayton," she said.

"Hm?"

"Look over there. Do you see a man?" Emie blinked and struggled to find him again. Was she going mad? Clayton looked for a few moments before nodding and standing up.

"Maybe we should go into a different room. I don't know if they have a gardener or something, but I haven't been told about that." Emie stood up behind him, realizing how short she was compared to him. They walked back into the living room and he sat beside her. As she sat there, she couldn't stop thinking about Josh and Clayton. They were so very similar, yet wildly different.

She sat there and looked at him with an intent gaze. She wasn't sure about him, though she was positive that he was attractive. Rose, despite the hard feelings between Rose and Emie, had found someone who seemed honest. They were probably going to good for each other, though if she was a cheater, it was unlikely she would change.

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# 3 a family matter

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BRIIIING. Her phone vibrated against the glass of the table. Emie unfolded her legs and bent over to it, reading the name: Joshua. She slid her finger against the screen, answering.

"Hey, Emie, do you want to see my aunt later? She's home."

"Yeah, sure. Can I talk to you a second?"

There was a slight pause on the phone before Joshua's voice croaked into action. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm being stalked, Josh."

She heard a laughter from the other end of the phone.

"I don't think you're being stalked. I think you'd know. Anyway, why do you think that?"

She explained that she'd been seeing a man near her house and he was stopped in his tracks. He tried to say it was a new neighbor, but she'd seen him at school, too. His arguments fell short and Emie felt uncomfortable at how he choked out words.

"Try to be careful," he said. "Call the police if you see him again. I'll be over later."

They exchanged farewells and she stood up, looking down at the television - the news was on. Today's top story was a handful of girls going missing from a town not far from Emie's. Was it because of her stalker? Was she next? Her delicate fingers guided one side of her cardigan over the other and she looked outside her glass doors.

Josh must have been correct. After all, why would someone want to stalk Emie? She wasn't special. And she looked nothing like the smooth-skinned, elegant, overly-beautiful girls on the television who had gone missing. Her eyes darted around at everything that moved. She swore that she could see a shadow of a man in the garden, but she couldn't.

Click. Her world drained of colour. Was somebody at the door? She turned, quickly, but quietly, entering the kitchen area and taking a knife off of the drainer near the sink. Her heart bet faster as the person trying to enter struggled with opening the door. The rusty lock was maybe the only thing keeping her safe from whoever was trying to come in.

Then it opened.

Her mind flashed into shades of grey and red. Before she knew it, the would-be intruder entered through the door. She looked up, after her body weakened and dropped to the floor. It was her mother. The woman who had cared for her since she was a child.

"What's wrong?" Amanda raced over, throwing her bag to the floor and scooping Emie up into her arms, shaking her lightly in order to get an answer.

"I... nothing, mom," she whimpered. Standing back up, she forced her mother away from her. The air suddenly regained it's essence and Emie's heart stopped beating quite so fast. She stumbled to the stairs and walked up, throwing herself through the open door to her bedroom, still shaking a little. It was peculiar that she had been so afraid. After all, she did not live on her own. She should have expected something like that to happen, so why hadn't she? Had she dived deeper into paranoia?

There was an urge that she had, that was nibbling at her ear, that told her she needed to call Joshua. He should know that she was being paranoid and that she had probably been feeding him false information. It was incredibly likely, at least to her, that she was imagining things and that nobody had been there to watch her on all those times she'd thought she was being stalked.

"I'm going mad," she whispered to herself as she pressed her body against the soft fabrics of her cotton sheets and fluffy pillow cases. A tiny little smile showed itself and she laughed an abortive laugh for a moment.

Thrusting her body upright again, she realised she needed to calm down. She stood on unsteady legs, stretching out and telling herself in her mind that she needed to go downstairs, share a drink with her mother and then have a little to eat. A sharp pang of hunger rippled through her stomach and she remembered that she had not been eating much of late, due to both worry and insomnia. The less the slept, she less she worried about food, which led to her starving on accident. It was peculiar, really.

She straightened herself out, lightly brushing her fingers through her hair. She had to get ready for the day but that was not as important for her as getting downstairs and talking to her mother. Maybe her mother could help. After all, one of the reasons that her mother became so detached was because she was paranoid for her daughter and paranoid that she was going to be a bad mother without her husband.

She inhaled deeply then exhaled sharply, making her way down the narrow hallway and down the stairs. Her mother was sat in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water that she had obviously poured herself just. Her tan was intense, much more so than usual. Her eyes were glazed over from tiredness, probably from the flight.

"Come, sit down."

Emie followed out her mother's instructions and made her way over to the seat where her mother was and sat beside her.

"What's wrong, Em?" Emie slid herself back in the chair, with a tiny cracked smile on her face.

"I've just been feeling a bit paranoid. I know... I know you sometimes feel like that. Do you know how I can stop feeling so paranoid? It's really starting to get to me?"

"Why are you paranoid?" Her mother's brow was furrowed and she didn't know why her expression was concern. "Is it to do with me? I know I haven't been a very good mother to you, Em."

"No, no, nothing like that, really. I feel like..." there was a pause as Emie sighed. "I feel as though someone is following me. Everywhere I look I see a shadow of a man I don't know and it's annoying, you know? But not only that... it's a fear I can't control."

Amanda laughed a little chortle of mockery. "You're my girl. I used to feel like that. But you're fine. Want some Chinese food? I brought some just from that all day buffet place down by the precinct."

"Sure," Emie giggled. Amanda stood up, nearly tripping on her heels. Emie noticed a bag near the door that Amanda had placed delicately, and she realised that it must be the food. Amanda picked up the bag and placed it on the table, opening it to reveal it's contents of rice, crispy beef and sweet and sour chicken. Emie loved sweet and sour, or at least she used to.

"I also brought you a book, for your maths. I know you like maths and English and stuff, but I didn't know what to get. It's a book about advanced problems or something, I don't know." It was an ice gesture. Little did her mother know that Emie had not been doing much maths recently. It was hard enough juggling the fear of being stalked with Joshua but it was also confusing for her to even think of studying. She hadn't studied recently, and she could only pin the blame on Joshua. But of course, she shouldn't blame him. It was not as if he had taken away her books, or something. But she couldn't bear to blame herself.

Emie looked at the small maths book that her mother had brought her. It looked terribly familiar and Emie thought that maybe she had it upstairs amongst her collection. But nevertheless, it would be fun to start doing more math and English and other things that are fun for her. Josh would probably be proud if she started to do those things again, after all, he had always encouraged her to educate herself outside of lessons.

Her mother pulled the food out of the bag and pushed it to Emie. The smells flooded her nostrils and she loved it, as it had been a long time since she had eaten something nice. Even though she had only felt a pang of hunger for a few moments, she desperately wanted the food. Her hands went clammy and her mother passed her a silver plated fork from the side. It was clean, but it had been left out since the other day when emie was meant to eat, but didn't.

"Looks good, right?" Emie nodded to her mother and smiled. The smells of crispy beef mixed with egg fried rice and sweet and sour chicken was divine; a pure explosion of ecstasy in her mind and she wanted to get dug in immediately.

Amanda quickly grabbed a drink from the side and placed it in front of her daughter. "I'll have some later, but I really have to go soon. I have a flight that I need to catch in," she paused, checking her watch, "an hour. Shit. I'll be back next week for a day or two, I don't know. Oh, and I love you, Em, my beautiful baby girl. I hope you enjoy your food." Amanda pulled her brown designer purse up from the floor and took out a small, but quite substantial, wad of cash and placed it on the counter with care. "There's a lot there, Em. Go get some new clothes or something as well. As usual, your... our - sorry - bills are paid up for the month. I love you," she said, walking over to Emie and kissing her forehead as she placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, before hurrying to the door and leaving. As the door slammed, Emie felt sick.

It had happened quickly. Too quickly. Brief visits from her mother weren't what she wanted, or needed. During her short life, she'd experience the bitter and sobering feeling of loneliness all too frequently, especially since the death of her father. Her mother shouldn't be so absent in her life, she thought. But of course, there was nothing she could do, nothing at all. She wanted to call Josh. It would be nice to phone him and see how he was and what he was doing... in fact, she wanted to see him. To make sure he was there for her and to smell him, not the cheap food from the precinct.

It seemed as though nobody was there for her. But she wanted him to be. She took a bite of the food, letting the spices excite her taste buds for a moment before she decided to stand up. She didn't want the food. That food was brought for her by a woman who didn't care. Why should she listen to her? Why would she? She didn't. She closed the packaging, turning her back on it.

Sighing, she felt weak. She wanted to eat but she didn't want that. It was dirty, to her.

There was a moment of pain when she turned around, turning her back to the food. What was wrong with her? It was a gift from someone, why did she reject it? Joshua's face entered her mind. In that moment all she wanted was to see him. But she also wanted a cigarette. Picking herself up from the slump, she moved to the other side of room where she could see a pack of cigarettes. Over the past day or so, she'd totally forgotten about them. They were the ones she liked, even though she wanted to cut back on her bad habit of smoking. None the less, it was fine for her to have one, she thought. She carefully opened the pack and slid out a single cigarette, picking a lighter up from the table and placing the toxic stick between her semi-parted lips, then lighting it, breathing in decay.

A small puff of smoke danced around the room, bringing her attention to the recently painted ceiling. The yellow stains from the family's vices had been covered over by a lick of white satin, but the vices were very much still alive.

#

"I SIMPLY DIDN'T WANT to be alone," she said, gazing out of the window. It had been only a few hours since she had last saw the strange man who she assumed to be stalker, and she was concerned for her own safety. After locking all of the windows and bolting the gate, she left to meet Josh. He had taken her to Clayton's house, where she -hopefully - would find herself safe.

The living room was tastefully decorated, if modest. The green detailing on almost everything, mixed with a sort of ash-grey created a rather unique combination. Few scatter cushions graced the central sofa, and two leather sofas were positioned on either side of the lounge. He lived in a small house (by himself), in an expensive part of town; a lavish area with transport links and tremendous nightlife.

"Here."

Clayton came, holding a tray of China mugs. Like the furniture of the living room, they were modest, but she could tell they had worth. As he sat them down, she wondered what was in them -- after all, she'd not told him what she drank. Maybe Josh had told him, beforehand. As she reached out for hers, she instantly regretted the decision; the mug itself was burning hot, and though she grinned lightly she was already aching after pulling the mug to her lap. Josh looked at her, as did Clayton.

"What exactly has happened?"

She was silent for a short time, thinking. After all, nothing major had happened but it was still scary to think she could potentially be in danger.

"Well, I think I might be being stalked. I'm not sure... but I think so."

Clayton looked at her quizzically. "What makes you think you're being stalked?"

"There's a guy who I keep seeing everywhere I go. It's kinda... getting to me."

"I think it's him," Josh said, looking at the floor. She was confused, her mind wondering what was happening and who it was.

"Someone you know well?" She inquired, not even presuming that she'd receive an answer from him.

"I guess you could say that," he laughed. "Someone I don't like, but really, I think you're overreacting. I don't think you're being stalked."

"Well how can you say you think it's someone, and then instantly say you don't even think this is real?" Her face flushed red with anger, gritting her back teeth against her cheeks. It was a terribly bad habit that she'd picked up -- whenever she was angry, or very happy, or experienced any sort of intense emotion, she'd grit her teeth. Much like how people bite their finger nails when anxious, Emie chewed and gnawed on the inside of her cheeks. Hell, she'd even noticed herself doing it when she was stroking a cat or dog -- it was as though anything could trigger her to chew her cheeks and grit her teeth. A terrible habit, according to her dentist, but she didn't mind. It was just something that she did every now and then, she thought to herself.

There was somewhat of an awkward silence, with Josh just looking down at his feet, and Clayton on his phone, attempting to avoid making eye contact with anyone. That awkward silence, however, was broke by an echoing knocking on the door. Josh bolted upright, looking down at Clayton who was very much oblivious, still on his cell phone.

"Let me guess... it's Harry, right?"

"She does own the place, mate."

Josh walked down the narrow hallway to the door, opening it slowly. In the doorway was a woman of about forty, maybe even fifty, with shocking red hair in a French twist. She wore a brown riding coat with a white blouse and tight blue denim jeans. She looked like a throwback from the sixties, or something. As she walked in, she carried an air about her -- almost how an exceptional actor steals the stage, and captivates an audience, Harry stole the attention of those around her.

As she entered the room, she flung both of her hands in the air, gasping and raising her brows as she looked at Emie.

"You must be Emie!" She reached a hand out to shake Emie's hand, and grasped it firmly with both of her hands. "I'm Harriet, Joshua's aunt, I've heard so much about you!"

Joshua and Emie had been friends for years previously, though Emie had never actually met any of Joshua's extended family -- she'd seen his sister many times, however.

"Yeah! You too!"

Joshua came up behind Harriet, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's great to see you again, it's been too long. Shall we go into the kitchen and talk a while? Clayton, you keep playing that stupid game." Josh chuckled, and Clayton threw his middle finger in the air.

#

"SO THAT'S WHY I'VE turned up here, again. I know. It's a long, boring story. But I couldn't leave the kids here without an uncle, plus I've got so much stuff to sort out and oh God, the amount of money I've got tied up in the estate. You know, his uncle and I, we built that place up ourselves. Yep, the two of us."

Harriet, from what Emie was able to understand, was a wealthy woman, brought up with a silver spoon. Not unlike Joshua, she'd been overly-privileged. From the way she spoke, to the perfectly manicured nails on her slender fingers, Emie felt engrossed in a world that was not her own. With Joshua, she related to him. He didn't feel wealthy. His world didn't seem to different to hers. But with Harriet she felt beneath her, speaking to someone stood well above her. Of course, Harriet didn't dislike Emie. In fact, in the half hour they'd spent speaking, they'd learned a lot about one another, and Harriet seemed delighted to learn about Emie and her past.

"I love Josh, he's my favorite nephew. Hell, I practically raised him and Rose. Did you know that? At least until he was nine, then he went to his uncle, because I couldn't deal with them. I never had kids of my own." She was an incredibly fascinating woman with a lot to tell, but it was clear that she was obsessed with hearing her own voice, and of speaking of herself. "But my husband and I... we tried. You never met my husband, did you Josh?" She took a sip from the mug in front of her, looking at him. He shook his head. "Well, he was a wonderful guy. I loved him but he's dead now -- died years before Josh was born. But I like to think he's still here. Did you know I own the estate down the Priory? I live there, it's a family heritage, you could say. Not open to public though, the main cathedral and park is but once you get into the forest it's all my private land that I don't let people into."

The Priory was a large section of wild land, forests, and was the location of a prestigious mansion and estate. There were hundreds of acres surrounding the estate, and even more acres of forest which attached onto a park and a cathedral. In the 1600s, the estate and surrounding area had been used as a farming community, with the lord of the land living in the main estate, with various subsections for the farmers and their families. Emie was impressed that Harriet lived there, and even more impressed that her childhood best friend's aunt lived there.

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# 4 ruby

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HIS HAND WAS FIRMLY on top of hers. It had been a cold, bleak morning, and they'd ended up locked in the band practice room in school. It was a small room compared to many of the other rooms around the campus, but she liked it in there. Before she dropped music as a subject, she was in the room three times a week practicing the cello or violin.

"I'm happy you remembered I wanted to take you on a date, Em."

She laughed, he laughed.

"Me too, though I'm not sure getting locked in a room, in school, is a good date idea." He sighed, turning to look at the door. "Josh, I hate to break it to you but I don't think that we're gonna be getting out anytime soon." Her head lay on his shoulder. She was tired, prom committee was already in session, but Em was stuck in the room with Josh. "How did this even happen?"

"Rose. Probably, anyway. Could've been Keelan or Ethan or anyone else, for that matter."

"I guess." She yawned, pulling her head away from his shoulder. "So, who do you think is my mystery stalker?"

"I don't know, for all I know, you're not being stalked."

She grunted. "But you even said-"

"Emie, I'm perfectly aware of what I said."

He shifted uneasily, furrowing his brow and shifting slightly away from her. There was obviously something on his mind but she didn't care to ask; in the past, asking questions had seemed to be detrimental to their relationship. And, it was soon after the death of his uncle who had been his sole carer for a long time. He was bound to have a lot on his plate.

She smiled, and stood up walking over to the door which had been locked for thirty-two minutes. "Can we not unlock it from in here?"

"I don't think so." He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on his wrists. "I think we're just going to be stuck in here until someone comes to rescue us, like the damsels in distress that we are."

A small smile crept up onto Emie's face, breaking the relatively stern look she'd had all day. She was annoyed at how subpar she'd been performing in school lately, but it couldn't be helped. Taking time to make sure she was happy and healthy was important.

A group of teenagers who attended the school walked past, banging on the door and making noises, laughing; was it that obvious they were locked in?

"So... I don't know what to say, Em, about this whole stalker thing."

"What do you mean?" She turned, resting her back against the door and crossing her arms just underneath her chest. "I mean, you don't believe me, right? Which is fine, but I'm worried, is all. I don't particularly want to put myself in danger, you know?"

"Yeah I know. You should go to the cops if you honestly think this guy is a threat to you. I don't know much about what's happened, or who this guy is. He could just be a perv who likes you a bit too much, or maybe you're just imagining things. What does he look like, again? Try not to be as vague as before, maybe I can help and if I come across this creep myself, I can say something. Rough him up a little."

She sighed, walking back over to him and sitting on the table. Rolling her fingers in between one another, she laughed. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"But if he could hurt you... someone should teach him a lesson. If he exists."

"Of course. I guess. Well," she sighed, trying to form a mental picture of what he looked like. In all the times she'd seen him, she had never been able to get a clear glimpse, not even a single moment where she was able to discern his features properly. "He's like, six foot, I guess. Definitely pretty tall. And thin. Super thin. I don't really know what he looks like, I've never seen his face."

"Well, what's he wear? What hair colour? Work with me, Em."

"I don't know! He's just been in baggy pants and a baggy jacket with a hood. I don't know what he looks like."

Josh pulled himself upwards and thrust his torso backwards, groaning loudly.

"Well, if you don't know what he looks like, or even have an idea of who it could be, I definitely can't help you. It's the truth, sorry Em."

"That's ok, I didn't expect you to be able to." She smiled gently. "But I am afraid that I can get hurt and I don't particularly want to, you understand. I just don't want to go to the police because then they'd have to tell my mom and then everything could... well, everything might end up going bad for me. Mom might have to come back from wherever she is and I know she doesn't wanna have to do that."

"If you're in danger you mom will come back, I know she will. You forget I know her and I know her well, you mean everything to her." Joshua's reassurance meant a lot to her--it wasn't simply because she felt unwanted by her mother, but because Josh really did know her mother... and thus, he probably did know what he was saying.

"Thanks... but no thanks."

She stood up, kicking her leg in the air and flailing her arms around. "I'm so, so bored!"

"You and me both."

She sat on the floor, sighing. There was nothing to do in there, except maybe go into the instruments closet and start playing something. She knew she would be allowed to, even though she was close to finally leaving the school permanently, the teachers liked her, especially the music teachers who had taught her previously. As an upstanding student, she knew that there were certain perks to being a role model to the younger kids. Teachers gave her certain perks and privileges which other kids didn't get. Being locked in the music room and being able to play the instruments in the music room? That was definitely one of the perks.

"We could play some of the instruments?"

Her suggestion was met with silence from Josh, who had his head slumped back and his eyes closed.

"I might just nap, waste some time."

"Come on, Josh, I'm bored too, you can't just leave me alone."

He snickered. "That's not technically true, because I'd still be here even though you wouldn't have this thrilling company." Opening one eye, he looked down at her. Her black skirt was riding up on her thigh and her tight white tee cut a little too low. It seemed as though she was attempting to attract the attention of those around her, much like how Harriet's air of authority attracted the gaze of others. "Em, I can almost see your underwear."

"So what? I'm sure you've seen it before."

He laughed, turning red. "That's very true, but let's not get into that, alright? We're in school and I don't want to get in trouble."

"Since when have you been the good kid out of us? I thought you were the one who was always throwing parties and drinking."

"Very, very true. Sadly, Em, I don't do that stuff at school!" He glared at her before realizing he was unable to keep a straight face, instantly bursting into laughter. "Oh, Em, what're you like? This isn't good, at all. Pull your skirt down, you don't need to impress anyone."

"Who says I'm trying to impress someone? Maybe I prefer wearing shorter skirts."

"And I can almost see your bra. A v-neck never really was the best style, for you."

"What're you trying to say?" She jumped upwards, pretending to be offended.

"I'm trying to say you have too big a bust to pull it off. You're very thin but unfortunately, it doesn't work because of how big your chest is."

Both of them laughed and then she went over to him, and sat down on his lap. The room was growing stuffier, warmer. And the both of them were looking red and flush.

"Why did you sit on me, Em?"

"Well, do you want me to get off?"

"This isn't the time, really."

"I don't mean anything by it."

He wrapped both of his arms around her. "Of course. Anyway, there's nothing to do in here, as you said. Maybe we should play a game or draw, or anything. But what I know is that this is entirely insufferable."

"Well, hold up, maybe you could tell me who you think is stalking me."

"You got me there."

He began telling her about a man he used to be friends with, someone who he has a restraining order against. It was all very complicated, apparently. She struggled to understand some of the things he said, but it was fine. She went along with it. He'd had a long and arduous argument and court settlement. Josh had nearly died in the process, apparently. All over a girl.

#

THE SMELL OF FRESHLY cut onions was strong. Emie was cooking. A glass of wine on the side of the counter was her signature when cooking. After all, she wasn't particularly a good cook, nor did she claim to be. But she wanted to make something for herself, because it had been a long time since shed actually had a proper, home cooked meal. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd cooked anything delicious for herself, usually it was ready-meals or take away. Her mother gave her the money to do so, and as such, she fell into the trap of binging on unhealthy junk food every night.

Her music was loud, and the TV was on in the lounge. Everything was a mess, but it didn't matter. She was cooking herself a vegetable and chicken stir-fry, with noodles and lots of soy sauce. Her main vice was soy sauce, she'd come to learn. With sushi, noodles, rice, literally anything that could be served with soy sauce, she'd drench in it. Splashing some vinegar into the wok, then putting the onions in, she laughed. It was fun to cook, she thought.

The soft, dimmed orange lights of the kitchen ceiling set the tone for her. She was relaxed, despite being on her own. There was something soothing and awfully therapeutic about the act of creating her own meals from scratch. Though she wasn't an excellent cook, she knew how to make a lot of different meals, many of which were nutritious and filling. She stirred the wok, and then sat down at the table with her glass of Shiraz, looking at the book she'd left open.

Reading, much like cooking, was fun to her. It was something she'd always enjoyed, even if she didn't get much time to commit to it. Letting the words paint a picture in her head, she felt transported away to a different place, another time, and she wasn't Emie Jones; she was the tall, majestic warrior fighting for her nation's freedom against the rebellious traitors. Though, of course, it wasn't real. The light bathed every inch of the kitchen, splashing off of the white tiles and silver decor. Emie had relaxed since she got home from school, pulling off her clothes, now wearing just some shorts and a baggy tee. She always felt comfortable wearing stuff like that, especially when it was warm. The warmth, along with the beautiful orange light against her skin, made her feel as though she was on vacation, or at least not stuck in her dreary, middle-of-nowhere town with no friends.

She read several lines of her book before jumping up, dancing a little with her hips and approaching the wok. It sizzled and simmered, and she stirred the meat together. The mixture didn't look as good as from the takeaway, but it smelled divine and she knew that it would taste incredible. In fact, the first meal she'd ever cooked on her own had been a chicken stir-fry. She remembered how it felt to eat her own meal, having it come out of the wok hot and ready to eat. It was fulfilling.

After stirring it again, she knew it wasn't quite finished cooking, but she lowered the heat of the hob. She didn't want to burn it after all. She poured herself another glass of wine, and danced once more to the music, swaying her hips and wildly singing out loud. The kitchen was warm, and Emie loved it.

The day at school had been stressful, locked in a band room with Josh for nearly two hours before they were found by the principal, and they'd gotten into trouble because she was sat on top of him. Though there was nothing x-rated about the scene, it was deemed inappropriate for a school setting. In truth, Emie agreed, but pretended as though she didn't care.

There was a loud thud that echoed from upstairs, and the force was enough that made the lights temporarily flicker. She put the glass of wine down, turning the hob off and taking the wok off of the stove, putting it on the side.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed through the house, loud enough that anyone lurking would be able to hear it. She yelled out twice more, but nobody answered. And to her dismay, there was not another noise from upstairs. She grew concerned, especially because she already had a fear that she was being stalked by someone who could potentially be incredibly dangerous, but she tried to shake it off. She took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. She turned around, making sure nobody was creeping down the stairs or around the room. Emie was completely alone, but she was still concerned. A voice in the back of her head told her to call someone to assist her, to keep her company, but she didn't want to bother anyone.

Her friend, Marcy, would've been excellent company, she thought, and she knew she had to reconnect with her somehow. She argued with herself for ten, maybe fifteen minutes before she reached out and grabbed her cell phone to call Marcy. There was a slight noise from upstairs, and she quickly dialed the number.

It rang for several moments before a happy-go-lucky voice answered. "Hey! Marcy's phone! I'm not here right now, leave a message!" She frowned, grabbing the bottle of wine, and instead of pouring it into the glass, simply drinking it straight from the bottle.

Concerns plagued her, but she knew that she couldn't bother Joshua. He'd had to deal with her all day, and there was simply no need to call him, or anyone, for that matter.

She put the wok back on the stove, turned the music up louder, and drank more wine, even pouring a dash of it into the wok. Just, because she could. Dancing with her hips and singing a little louder, she wanted to try and forget what was going wrong. There was still a fear in the back of her head, though she tried to dismiss it. If there really was someone in the house, she would most likely know about it, and they wouldn't have simply lay in wait all that time with only making two noises. And if they'd made noises earlier, she simply didn't hear.

Her vision was slightly blurry from the wine. Opening the cupboard, she saw another bottle of shiraz, two bottles of vodka, some tequila, and some bottles of beer. She pulled out the six-pack of beer, opening one of them. It was her favorite brand, and she liked feeling the cool alcohol running down her throat. IT was 4.7 per cent, but after all the wine she'd already drank, it seemed probably that she was going to be drunk in no time. Drunk Emie was fun to be around, but drunk Emie was probably not the wisest.

Noticing that the stir-fry was cooked, she pulled it off the hob and tipped it onto a plate, grabbing her black and gold decorated chopsticks out of the case, and sitting down at the table with her book. Despite wanting to read, she realizing quickly that her vision had deteriorated far too much to read properly.

One bite, two bite. The food tasted divine and she felt at home, finally. The warm food was warmer than whatever she liked to order from the local Chinese takeaway, and it was filled with delicious flavor and contrasts. She loved onions, and she loved noodles. Two of her favorite things in one. After the wine had been added, she noticed the tint of Shiraz to every bite which was wonderful.

Bite of food.

A swig of beer.

A bite of food.

Swig of beer.

She laughed at herself, singing along to the music. She was having a great night, even though she was on her own. Maybe she was destined to be on her own, she thought to herself. Or maybe she was simply drunk and wallowing in self pity. Nevertheless, she didn't mind. She was drunk, she was eating excellent home-cooked food, and she was happy. Happiness was an issue which had long evaded her. Depression had previously taken a cold, hard grip of her and she became isolated.

Especially after the death of her father.

There was another loud thud from upstairs, and she bolted upright, yelling out again. Nobody responded. She grabbed her cell phone and turned the music off, attempting to listen closely. Though, she was drunk. Her senses, particularly her hearing, faded when she'd had a bit to drink.

She heard a scraping sound, like nails being dragged off of wood. She was confused and concerned, not knowing what to do. She walked slowly out of the kitchen and into the hallway, looking up the stairs, wondering who was there... she didn't see any movement. Despite there not being any sign of movement, she was cautious. If she ventured up the stairs, she possibly risked being attacked by a wild animal or intruder, or she might just have been hearing things.

She slowly made her way up, one step at a time. She heard a quiet scraping noise again, and went back down the stairs. Suddenly, the electricity went out and the house fell into darkness.

She started to panic, her legs got cold and her music was off. The house was in total silence and she was worried that whatever was in the house was going to harm her... which was probable. The electricity in her house rarely went out, but when it did, there was usually a storm that caused it. The weather had been dismal, but there had been no storms. Emie panicked as she walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a knife. She dialed Joshua's number, but he didn't answer. Then she tried Rose. No answer. She knew that she had to call the police if something bad was happening, she just knew it.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. A panic attack seemed likely, but she knew that she needed to control herself. Closing her eyes made a difference, but not a good one. As the darkness consumed her vision, she felt even more vulnerable. Opening her eyes didn't put her to ease, either. There was another scraping noise, and then two sharp thuds as though someone was jumping off of something, or out of something. She was concerned and afraid. She had to call the police.

But what if it was just a squirrel? Maybe another small rodent? She tapped the digit 'nine' on her keypad. Her fingers were shaky, but she didn't want to dial the police straight away without any sort of evidence as to who or what was upstairs in her room. There was another shuffling noise and another scraping noise. She was worried, worried that someone was playing tricks on her. But if she were to call the police, and there was nobody there, the chances of the police doing a breathalyzer and realizing that was had consumed way too much alcohol was likely, and then she could potentially be charged with wasting police time, which the local cops took seriously.

She tried to still herself, but she was shaking far too much. With the next noise she heard, she almost let out a cry, biting down onto her hand to silence herself.

The darkness of the living room was scaring her even more--knowing that someone could easily be close to her but she just couldn't see them scared her beyond belief.

A window upstairs opened, and she jumped up, looking out of the window in the kitchen. Judging from In the darkness, she could barely make out the figure of a man hidden in the shadows, lurking, slowly making his way toward her. It was nerve wracking and every hair on the back of her neck was stood on end.

She clutched herself on her arm, then started chewing the inside of her cheek as she always did every so often.

The darkness consumed the shadow again, and she couldn't see the figure. Fear consumed every inch of her as she panted and pushed herself backwards, keeping her eyes in the position where she had seen the figure, and then fumbling her hands around to try and locate the lock for the sliding glass doors behind her. The fear made her lose reasoning, and she was very much prepared to break the glass open if she needed to. Within moments she'd managed to reach the latch and open it, the door sliding quickly as she pushed herself out, nearly grunting as her behind hit the cold, hard floor. It was a dismal night, but the moonlight illuminated the area near her and around her. It was as if a shaft of light was directly shining on her.

There was nobody there.

Not a soul.

Standing up and dusting herself off, she saw that she'd cut her leg, and there was a streak of crimson blood making its way down her shin. She exhaled, letting her shoulders relax and then sighing. She didn't know what was going on, nor did she know if she had actually seen someone, but there was a sense of safety being outside in the dark without whoever it possibly could have been in the first place.

Relaxing all of the muscles in her body, she swayed, looking upwards.

Then she felt it.

The hand crawled its fingers along her shoulder, grasping at her, dragging it's sharp nails along her flesh, almost digging in. She shook under the tough, afraid to move. Too scared to stand still, but too gripped in terror to get away. She flinched somewhat, but didn't expect to get away. She turned around, not seeing anyone there. She knew there was, but she didn't see who. All of a sudden, she felt herself being pulled down, a soft breath against her neck, and the same hand clutching the same shoulder, the same nails creating lines in her flesh, breaking the skin, and letting her blood. She was close to screaming, pain searing across her collarbones. She felt woozy--an effect of the alcohol? Perhaps.

She was scared, her brows fell and she clenched her fists, crying. Her breathing became shallow and quickly. She hoped she was dreaming. No, she hoped she wasn't. She hoped it was just someone playing a trick on her. Josh, maybe. Maybe that was why Josh wasn't answering.

As the grip got harder, she felt more pain. Agony rippled through her shoulders, down her chest, and into her core. There was nothing she could do, but she didn't want to just lie there. Under the deep scratched, she quivered in the wind. Much to her dismay, she didn't think it was someone friendly. But it was someone hostile.

This was real. It was too real.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. The air was getting slightly warmer and time seemed to slow. But once she'd opened her eyes, she found herself without the grip on her shoulder, without the dank breath against her neck.

Writhing around on the floor by herself, she gasped for air; it felt like the first sip of water after a period of dehydration. She sat upright, feeling her heartrate get faster. Hyperventilation seemed to be setting in, and she darted upright, jumping once, twice, then going back into the lounge through the open door. The electricity turned back on, whirring into life, and lights flickering back on. She noticed some things had moved, but only slightly. The alcohol in her system made her thoughts seem less believable, but something was most definitely not right. Stumbling forward, she fell onto the sofa, grasping at her shoulder with her opposite hand, feeling the warmth of blood on her palm. It was obvious what had just happened was very much real... and she had not imagined it. Her head felt light, and she thought maybe she needed to call an ambulance rather than the police, or probably both. Was it a wild animal? Should she get a tetanus shot? Many thoughts ran into her head, quickly. But many of them were instantly abandoned.

The idea that she had to call someone to help her was a prominent one, and it was likely that she needed some sleep. Lying down, she felt the pain of the scratches on her shoulder. She was too drunk to judge how deep they were, but she didn't care, the alcohol was taking care of her. She shut her eyes for a few seconds before slowly getting back up, and holding her phone up. Carefully, she typed in one number after the other and called Joshua, asking him to make his way to her house. She needed it. Someone to help her, someone to make sure she was ok. She told him she'd been hurt and needed help, some bandages and aspirin or something, and with that, he told her he'd be there in ten minutes. Her state of exhaustion was reaching excessive, and she unlocked the door before she sat down on the stairs, knowing that there were high chances of her falling asleep before he arrived.

Lying against the wall of the stairwell, she closed her eyes. She fell asleep within moments.

About an hour later, there was a banging at the door, she opened her eyes, realising she'd fallen asleep, and that Joshua had arrived. The door opened, and when he entered, he saw her, a mess on the floor, with several deep marks on her shoulder. They weren't deep enough to scar, but were deep enough to cause a lot of blood to seep from the wounds.

"What happened?"

"I don't... know?"

"Did you do that to yourself?"

She was stunned, and lay back on the stairs, laughing to herself. "Of course I didn't, but you didn't believe me, about the guy who was following me, right?"

"No... wait-"

"Shut up. He did this. Now do you believe me?"

"And you didn't think to call the cops?"

"No."

He brushed a hand against her cuts, and she coiled back against him. The pain was strong, and even the alcohol coursing through her veins wasn't enough to numb her. He took the bandage roll out of the blue bag he carried with him from the store, and stuck it over the cuts.

"You alright? I... if you don't want me to call the police, I won't but I advise it." "No, don't. Mom wouldn't want it... she'd have to come back and... I wouldn't wanna ruin her holiday." She shuddered to think that she could ruin her mother's holiday, but deep down she knew that she needed to take care of the issue. "You said you might know who it is, could you... I don't know..." "No, I can't. If you want to talk to him, you track him down. Unless he's already tracked you down first... but I... no." He shrugged and walked into the kitchen. "It's a mess." "No shit, how much have you drank? There's bottles everywhere!"

"Not much... a few glasses? A bottle? A bottle of wine and some beer."

"You sure?"

"Yeah! I'm sure!" She stumbled into the kitchen and used Joshua to stand upright. "I didn't drink all of this."

"You need to get sober, and fast. This isn't good, you need to come back to me but you need to get sober." He moved away from her, and went to the coffee machine, starting it and putting in a pouch of caramel latte--he knew it was her favorite. She slouched onto the chair where she'd been sat earlier, picking at her stir fry that she had left over from before the incident. It had gotten cold, but she didn't mind--it tasted just as good as it did before, but that could've been the alcohol.

"Drink this," he said as he passed her a glass of ice-cold water. She sipped it, and as it was against her lips, he pushed it further upwards, forcing her to drink more. "Drink this quick. You will need to drink a lot of water, judging from how much alcohol you've drank tonight. And I don't want you being drunk on your own again, I know you like to have fun, we all do, but it's dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt. Like you evidently did tonight. Especially if this is who I think it is." "Look I will be fine. I only had a few while I was reading."

She sloppily pointed to the book that was open. "I love this book."

"But when you're drunk you won't remember what the pages said, you will end up forgetting what happened and then will need to read the entire thing again." "No, no, I didn't plan to get that drunk."

"You didn't? But you drank so much, Em." She laughed, drinking the next glass of water that he passed to her. She heard the clicking of the coffee machine, and then within a few moments, Joshua passed the cup of caramel latte to her; it was frothy, just how she liked them.

The smooth liquid was soothing to her. IT was warm, and tasty. Milky, and nice. In their bid to get her to sober up, Josh had put a little additional coffee into the drink, which corrupted an otherwise perfect drink, but it was fine. It was essential to making sure she didn't stay in the same state of drunkenness.

It took just over an hour for her to finally be able to stand properly, by which point Joshua had made a point of ordering them a takeaway meal, even though Emie demanded she just finish off the food she had cooked for herself. He was certain that it would help her get sober quicker, and she just listened to him.

"How do you feel? How's your arm?"

"I feel fine, but my arm hurts, I guess."

"Sober, now?"

"Yeah."

Josh sighed, putting his head into his hands. "I'm very sorry all of this has happened."

"It's not your fault, it isn't as though you did it yourself, right?"

"Very true, but I can't help but think it's my fault, at least partially."

There was no truth to his fears, but Joshua was prone to worrying. He always had been.

They stood up and Joshua picked up his phone off the side. Emie's thoughts had been recollected and she looked at him, noticing that he was texting somebody.

"Who are you texting? Not my mom?"

"Don't worry, Em," he turned the screen off and placed the cell phone into his back pocket, wrapping an arm around Emie's waist and guiding her out of the house. "It's just my sister."

They locked the door and got into Joshua's car. The fresh black leather had the 'new car' smell, and the windows were tinted out black. It was a top-of-the-line car, brand new, probably only a month old.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere to get you to safety, you can't stay here, not on your own anyway. For tonight you can stay at mine with Rose, I have to go out but you will be fine with her, I promise."

"If you say so."

#

ROSE HAD BEEN DRINKING too. It was nearing two in the morning by the time everything in the Ryan household had calmed down. Joshua was sat on the arm chair with a small glass of whiskey, and Rose was sat next to Emie with a line of vodka shots on the table in front of her. She was taking them down as if there was no tomorrow.

Emie was sat uneasily, drinking a cup of tea that Rose had made for her. The tea bag had been left to steep for far too long, leaving a bitter tang to the liquid, and Emie felt cold. She was wearing only an oversized tee and some shorts, not enough to keep her warm.

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# 5 Feral

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"ARE YOU OK?"

They both looked at one another, and she shook her head, laughing. The hangover was starting to hit her strong, and she was starting to regret her drinking the night before.

"Hangover?"

"Yeah."

Josh laughed, handing her a glass of water. "So, you are going home today, I was thinking to stay with you for a while just to make sure you're okay and whoever that was there doesn't bother you again." He pulled her top down slightly, looking at the cuts on her arm. "These don't look too bad now, but if they start bleeding again please go to a doctor."

"Yeah, I would but, I don't think it means anything, I will be fine."

"If you say so."

Emie looked around, the room was lavishly decorated and it was a room that she'd never seen before. To stop at his the night before, she'd been placed in the guest room--a room larger than her private bedroom at her home. The bed was a large king-size bed, with lilac coloured curtains and matching silk bedsheets. The lights were on the wall, shaped like shells, and the walls were a pale salmon colour.

To her left was the en suite bathroom, which she had been in briefly the night before, throwing up. His house was divine, though it wasn't just his, and it was a home that belonged to his family, and had been built with them in mind. They were sat on two leather arm chairs in the corner of the room, with a glass table in front of them, three glasses and several plates on there. The clock on the table said it was half past eight in the morning, and the light dusted into the room, making the pastel shades of the wall and furnishings seem even more delicate than they were.

"So, you like the room?"

"Yeah, it's so nice, better than mine."

He chuckled. "I guess so, my uncle took a lot of pride in his house, he had some money, you could say. I don't. I don't think any of us do, anymore--all of our money is tied up in this place. But it's nice enough. Have you seen the view?"

Shaking her head, she glanced over to the window, wondering what was out there. He took her hand and helped her up, walking her to the window. Her eyes darted from one focus point to the next. The view was incredible: the sun was rising quickly above the forest tree tops, and in the distance she saw the large cliffs that surrounded most of the town, and the ice blue water, the waves crashing loudly against the cliffs. "It's... beautiful." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, being careful to not agitate her cuts.

"Yeah, it's inspiring. This is the best view of the house, I think, when I was younger I used to come in here once in a while to just... write, to draw. I love to draw."

"Yeah, I noticed a sketchbook on the table last night." Pointing behind her, she noticed it had been moved. "Well, it was there." He moved away from her and laughed.

"Yeah I put it away, it's in the drawer, with some pencils and erasers... you're welcome to draw whenever you are in here."

"Thanks, but I could never draw well, that was always you--I was always good with maths." She went to the drawer and pulled it open, taking the black sketchbook out of the drawer. Her slender fingers pulled it open, gently turning past the first, blank page, and then gazing at the beautiful and intricate pictures inside. There were realistic flowers, and incredible designs and mandalas.

"These are beautiful."

"I like sketching and doodling, these are some of the best ones I've done, in this room. I think. Whenever I'm in here I feel so... so..."

"Inspired?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it." She traced her fingers along the drawings, the lines that connected a design into a beautiful portrait or sketch.

"We should take you back home soon."

"Probably." She walked into the bathroom, her fingers hesitating on the flower-shaped door handle for a moment longer than it probably should have. Once inside, she basked in the beautiful golden glow of the dimmed lights, as she had done that night before in her kitchen. Every fixture, every piece of plumbing, was beautiful. It even smelled of money. Placing a hand on the sink, she remembered that she'd also cut her leg.

Glancing down, she saw the mark, but it had been cleaned the night before, presumably. It took her around ten minutes to brush her teeth, wash her face, comb out her hair and apply a thin stroke of lip balm that she'd found in the drawer next to the sink. The large full-length mirror covered he entire wall opposite to the bath, and there was another one on the back of the door. She looked at herself, realizing that she was a mess, and that she needed to get into some new clothing before leaving the house. Josh walked in after knocking, and remarked on her appearance, how even though she was hungover, she looked fine, even looked as good as she normally did. They walked down the stairs to find Rose sprawled out on the sofa, a cigarette in one hand and the TV remote in the other.

"Rose, can Emie just borrow some of your clothes and I'll bring them back later?" Rose turned lazily, looking Emie up and down, and Emie instantly felt judged. Rose was a beautiful girl, with a small frame and a large chest.

"Yeah I guess... if they will fit though, that's a different question. Can she just borrow some of my old pants and borrow one of your hoodies?" Josh looked down at Emie, unsure. She bit her lip and nodded.

"Sure, Rose. Mind if I go into your room to grab them?" Rose slinked upwards, smiling. Her facial features were relaxed, her shoulders drooped downward.

"I'll take her, Josh, never know what you could find in my room, you know." She laughed a dull laugh, and guided Emie upstairs, leaving Joshua alone in the lounge. Rose took a drag of her cigarette as she made her way down the long hall. Opening the oak door, Emie was met with the strong smell of perfume.

"What size are ya?"

"I don't know, a medium?"

She looked over at Emie, eyeing her up and down, then reaching into the large walk in closet to grab something that was directly next to the door. "Well, these are a medium, imported from France. I don't think these are gonna fit you."

She took them out of her hands, they were soft, but they looked too big for her. The next pair of jeans that Rose passed to Emie were smaller, and white rather than black. The knees were torn, and they looked distressed, on purpose.

"Those are smaller, they might fit, I think. My bathroom is through there," Rose remarked, glancing over to the door to the left. Her room was a stark contrast to the room she'd slept in. It was messy, a large vanity table against the wall, covered in top-brand makeup, brushes, hair extensions, mirrors, and other things such as nail lacquers and lingerie pieces. As Emie made her way through the mess and into the bathroom, she saw even more makeup on the counters along the wall, including a myriad of different shades. It seemed strange that Rose had so much makeup; Emie had hardly ever seen Rose wearing much makeup, only on certain occasions.

She put the clothes on the side, pulling her shorts off and throwing them onto the floor. She sighed, looking at herself in the mirror that was placed along the wall, like in the guest room's bathroom. The jeans felt tight as she pulled them up, slipping her legs into them and pulling them over her hips, and then fastening the button and zip. They felt tight, but they weren't digging into her skin too much--they felt like they fit perfectly. It took a few moments for her to do a twirl in the mirror, looking at herself to make sure they looked normal. After a few minutes, she was done, and made her way out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.

"You look fine, I know you were checking your own ass out in the mirror, I do it too." Rose laughed, nodding her head in the direction of her vanity. "You can keep the jeans. I don't like them, and they don't fit, so I never wore them."

"Oh... okay."

"You want to put some makeup on? You look like trash."

Emie blushed an intense shade of red. "No... no thanks, I have my own makeup at home, thank you, though. I don't uh, I don't think I've ever seen such a big collection of makeup, this is incredible!"

I'm really proud of my collection, spent a lot of time and money getting all of this stuff together, you know?"

Emie smiled, looking at the collection. Lots of black, lots of pink, lots of mauve and taupe and crimson, and even a handful of more obscure colours like orange and pink and blue and green. There was a large makeup organiser, in clear plastic, that she could see had a stack of false eyelashes and palettes. Emie was somewhat jealous of Rose's collection.

"I wish I had this much makeup."

Rose smiled, walking over to the organiser and opening it, pulling it out two boxes of lipsticks, sealed. "These are brand new and I don't like these shades, they're too neutral for me, I like warm shades. If you want them you can have them. I think I paid thirty, maybe forty for them." Emie held her hand out and took them off of Rose.

"Thank you." She looked at the colours, one was a nude tone and the other was a pale pink colour. The packs came with lipstick and liners, something Emie didn't have much experience with, nor did she care to practice with, but free makeup was free makeup and she didn't want to decline.

"Thanks," Emie said, smiling at Rose. They walked out of the bedroom and back down the same hall, where Josh was waiting at the top of the stairs with a grey hoodie which would presumably be slightly too big.

"Throw this on and we'll go, alright? I don't want to be spending too much time doing nothing today, I have some plans this evening and I was thinking... do you, I don't know, want to go to a cafe and I'll buy you breakfast? It's still early, and I owe you a date. Plus, after the night you had last night I'm pretty sure you deserve something nice to happen."

A large smile creeped onto Emie's face, and she took the hoodie, pulling it over her head and down her torso. Surprisingly, it fit rather well. "Yeah, let's go, Josh." She turned back to Rose, who still had a cigarette in her hand. "Thank you, so much."

"Don't mention it." Rose looked away, then walked into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Joshua and Emie walked down the stairs and got into his car. It was a warm day, not at all like the night before.

The sun was shining into the car, and Emie began to get hot as the car started to reverse out of the driveway and down the road.

"Can you stick the AC on?"

"Sure," Josh replied, turning a dial. The fans came on instantly, and Emie started to feel considerably more comfortable almost immediately. As they rode, Emie looked over at Joshua, who was comparatively better dressed than Emie. He wore a casual black blazer with black chinos, and black leather shoes. His white blouse was made of linen and looked incredibly casual, and the whole look was made complete by the striking red pin he had in his lapel. Emie felt vastly under-dressed, and wished to go back and change, but Josh insisted that she looked fine.

The drive was boring, tedious, slow. The scenery was dull, hardly any cars. The morning rush had been over for hours, and the midday crawl hadn't started. But, as they pulled onto a main road about twenty minutes from Joshua's house, he stopped the car. It was an abrupt stop, directly in the middle of the road. Josh was biting his finger. Emie stared on, concerned, and confused. There was an awkward silence, and Emie wanted to ask what was wrong, but she knew, as she always did, that interfering with Joshua's thinking would simply annoy him.

The silence kept on for three whole minutes before Joshua started driving again, but slowly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." The tone in Joshua's voice was a sharp one, flat and his words were quick. The car stopped again.

"What is going on?"

"Shut up." The sharpness in his voice scared Emie and she was unsure of what was happening, but she didn't want to interfere. She watched him lean back against the seat, taking his blazer off and chewing on his fingernail. His eyes stared directly forward, and the blue of his eyes seemed to be darker, now. "Stay here."

Joshua quickly clicked the door open, and then jumped out, walking forward with his shoulders hunched, his stature determined and poised for action. Emie was concerned but watched intently. He approached the trees and pulled a man out. She stared. She realised that the man was the person who had been following her. Emie's breathing quickened again, remembering the fear that had gripped her the night before. She locked the doors as quickly as she could, fumbling around with hasty dexterity, nearly crying with fear.

She watched Joshua pick him up by his neck, then throw him to the ground, kicking him repeatedly.

"Joshua!"

She was scared for not only herself, but for Josh. Whatever was happening was not good--even if he was simply trying to protect her... he was potentially putting himself in danger and at risk of getting in trouble with the police.

As she watched, she realised that the two were getting into an intense scrap. She heard a howl come from one of them--she was unsure who. The howl was unnatural, abnormal. It frightened her. Like a feral beast, Joshua pounced on the other man, clawing at him. Then he was thrown upwards, and the other man pushed him through the air into the trees.

The pair had seemingly vanished into the forest. There was another howl, this time louder, fueled by rage. Tears rolled down Emie's face--once again, she was consumed by fear. Should she run? No. Should she try and stay in the car? Also no. There was no right and wrong answer, but she was scared. There came another noise, more like the roar of a lion.

Emie wrapped both of her fingers around her mouth, trying to calm down as she attempted to locate a cell phone to call someone. Looking down, she saw Joshua's phone on the floor, evidently having fallen out of his pocket when he took his blazer off. She grabbed it, unlocking it, and dialing 911.

"You've reached 911 emergency services, how can I help?"

"Yes! Hello? My boyfriend is in a fight with some guy! I think the guy has been stalking me and now they're fighting, I can't see them but please send help!"

"And where are you, ma'am?"

She struggled to get the words out, and she was also lost.

"I... I don't..."

Just as she was attempting to locate herself, she saw Joshua walking out of the forest with blood down his white shirt. He spat at the floor, spitting out what looked like blood.

"I... I'm sorry... he's just come... I... I... I'm so sorry."

She put the phone down, watching him approach the car. She was worried, she was concerned. What had happened? What was going on? Josh looked somewhat different, his hair matted, his eyes... were brown. There was something about him that seemed off, and not just his eyes. There seemed to be a tint of grey to his flesh. She stared, open-mouthed, as he got to the car, trying to open the door. He struggled once, twice, before Emie realised that she'd locked the door from the inside. He sighed before she opened it.

He got into the car, sitting down, wiping his mouth. She looked with concern as she noticed there was blood dripping down from his mouth and onto his shirt.

"What happened?" She backed away from him, scared.

"Nothing, I just had a fight. He shouldn't be bothering you from now on, I promise."

"Who was it? How did you know it was him?"

"Well, Em, let's just say I had a hunch and he admitted that it was him. He needed to learn a lesson, Em."

He averted his gaze from her, refusing to look at her. He coughed, shuddering as he did so. They carried on driving, and after fifteen minutes of silence, he looked at her, his eyes back to being the dazzlingly bright blue they'd been before.

"Right, Em, he shouldn't be bothering you. But I can't go out dressed like this, I'm taking you back to yours, do you still have some of my old shirts at yours? Maybe we can talk for a while, then I'll go fetch some bagels and coffee."

"Yeah."

She crossed her arms as they continued to drive. They got to Emie's house and he pulled up in the garage, both of them getting out almost in unison. They walked in, and the house was still trashed from the night before: bottles everywhere, paper on the floor, all of the kitchen utensils still out, and a smashed wine bottle on the kitchen floor. There was a lot of tidying up to do, and Emie was concerned it would take all day to do. The second they got inside, Josh pulled off his shirt, flinging his head back and sighing. There were claw marks all down his chest, and a deep wound on his shoulder that appeared to be a bite mark, yet there was hardly any blood to be seen. He let out a breath.

"What? Are you ok?" She rushed to him, putting a hand on his chest. He was ice-cold, rather than burning up. She knew that when a person got a wound, they got hot--it was the body's natural way of healing... but he was as cold as ice.

"Stop fussing," he whispered, swatting away her hand. He slowly moved upstairs, groaning as he did so. Making his way upstairs slowly, Emie started to clean up in the living room, moving some of the cups and then making a start on the kitchen. It was a mess, and Emie already felt incredibly defeated. She sighed, sitting down. The food was everywhere. Last night has been terrible--a nightmare, even. There was nothing she wanted to do more than forget the whole ordeal.

"Em," he yelled from upstairs. "Come here."

She jumped off the chair and hurried upstairs, where she found Joshua stood half naked in her bedroom. He looked confused. "And where exactly would my old clothes be?" Emie looked around, equally as confused. She didn't know where they would be. In the corner of her eye, she noticed he was strange--there was almost a brilliant white glow around him, like an aura or something. It was confusing, but she dismissed it. There was something, however, that was niggling at her--she was confused, and wanted to ask questions... she just didn't know what questions.

"I don't quite know, myself." Her eyes darted around the corners of the room, and she thought of where the clothes would be. After a while, they located the clothes that Josh had once left there, and he put it on, getting dressed. He left her alone again, and she was tidying up the living room whilst she waited for him to get the coffee and bagels that she was promised.

The mess was incredible, and she didn't remember making so much. She felt worn down, tired. She tidied a considerable amount of the room before sitting down into the living room, curling her legs up next to her and humming a dull tune.

Thinking about what had happened, she realised she wasn't as scared as she probably should be. What happened in the car, what happened in the forest... it didn't sit right with her. The way that he'd growled, the way he pounced on him, the bite and claw marks... it didn't seem like they'd been in a normal scrap. In fact, Emie was petrified of what might happen, or what had already happened, rather. She lay back, waiting. Time passed, and it took Josh and unusually long time to get to and from the store. But as he opened the door and walked in, Emie noticed the strange aura-like outline in the corner of her vision. What was going on?

"Here, have this."

She took a mug of coffee off of him, and he placed the bagels, as well as some small donuts, onto the table in front of them.

"Thanks," she said, putting the coffee onto her lap, between her two hands. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

He looked taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Thinking about it, even Emie didn't know what she meant. She was unsure of what she was going to say, moreover, of what he was going to say. She didn't have a theory. She didn't know anything. But she'd figured that something wasn't right.

"I don't know. Things just seem weird." She glanced at his neck, where there had been some sort of bite mark. "Like now, the bite on your shoulder... it's gone. I don't know why. And I'm willing to bet that the scratches are gone too. I don't know what's up with you. And... and..."

"Emie, you don't know what you're talking about."

"No, I do. When you were fighting with him. I heard... growls, roars. Sounded like a wild animal but it wasn't, it was you. What was it?"

"Nothing, I don't know."

He turned away so as he didn't have to look at her. She was terribly confused, and she didn't want to think about the worst case scenario. Was he on drugs? What had he been doing?

"You do! Look at me!" She grab his chin and forced him to look at her. "You tell me right now if you're on drugs or something. Because nothing here adds up. Suddenly you're super strong and your family has all this money that you either managed to cover well or just came into?"

"What are you on about? You didn't know I had money because I never told you. No, I don't have money. You just think I do purely because of the house. Well I don't."

"I don't think it because of the house. Your car, your sister's car. And the money isn't even my biggest concern. My main worry is that you... you... maybe you're doing drugs or something because I've honestly never seen you act like that before, and I didn't know you had the strength in you to do what you did. I was thinking about it whilst you were gone, and I'm scared, Josh."

"There's nothing to worry about." He brushed a strand of her hair back out of her face. "Come on, Em, I want you to go to bed. You had a long night and it's still pretty early, and I'd feel much better if you were to go back to sleep for an hour or so while I go out."

"I don't want to sleep, Josh. I'm worried."

"I'm not on drugs, you could even take me for a blood test now and it would be fine."

"I guess so..."

Josh stared at her for a few moments before standing up, and grabbing her. "Bed, now. Come on, Em. I'm worried too, and I want you to go to bed so I don't lose it with you. I can't stay here all day and I have some stuff I need to take care of for now, so I'd appreciate it if you just went to bed while I'm gone." He passed her the cell phone on the sofa and held her hand as they walked up the stairs and into Emie's room. "Look, you don't have to do what I say," he murmured as he undressed her. "But I'd feel better knowing you were relaxing in bed, or even in the bath." She was stood in front of him nude, and he didn't even break eye contact once.

"I know, but I'm still very worried about you. I don't understand."

"There's nothing to understand," he said before he kissed her forehead. "Get into bed, Em."

She climbed into her bed, and Josh pulled the covers up over her. She'd not paid much attention to how soft and lovely the bed was over a few months, but she was starting to appreciate them again. The warmth of the cotton and silk was wonderful against her bare flesh. She reached two hands out and flexed both of them at Josh, who was perplexed for just a moment, but then realised she wanted him to give her more attention.

Joshua reached down and hugged her, and Emie wrapped both of her arms around him, pulling him into the bed.

"Emie, I can't get in bed, I have to go, and I'm all dressed." She dismissed him, and pulled him closer. He nearly fell down, only able to hold himself up a little with his arm behind Emie. "Em..."

She moaned, and he gave in, lying next to her and then pulling her into his chest. She lay one leg over his pelvis and her head, and hand on his torso.

"What's wrong?" He asked gently, stroking the arch of her back under the cover.

"Nothing."

"There is."

She stretched, feeling his flesh underneath his shirt. "There's no marks here, or at least I can't feel any scratches, or even little dents. Please, just tell me what's going on, I think I deserve to know, after you went and nearly killed the guy who was stalking me. At least tell me who he was, ok?"

He sighed, pulling her in a little closer. "His name... is Robin. He's not a nice guy."

"And I remember you saying that you guys don't get along because of a girl..."

"Well, it was a long time ago, and he was engaged to her."

"You don't get involved like that with someone who is engaged."

"No, you couldn't understand why I did what I did, I don't think you ever could, anyway. But, I guess it was a pretty bad thing to do. On both of our parts. But the thing is, this guy is a nutjob. He is crazy. He told me years ago he wanted me dead."

"But you're not even twenty yet, how did you make a nemesis so young?"

He shifted a little underneath her with concern. "I'm afraid that there's an awful lot about me you don't know, but I guess we're going to have to leave it there."

"What do you mean?"

"Em, leave it."

"Josh."

"Em."

"Josh."

"Shut up." He laughed at her, nearly snorting. He sat upright, checking his watch. "I really do have to leave, baby."

"No, you really do not have to leave, baby." She mocked him, pulling him back down and tracing tiny little circles along the waistband of his jeans.

"Em, you don't need to, not just yet..."

She shushed him, digging her nails into the pronounced 'v-lines' underneath his abs. He felt cold, as always, but she didn't mind. She was bored, she was nearly even feeling a hangover, all she wanted to do was sleep. She closed her eyes, and felt the sweet embrace of a slumber.

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# 6 a bitter pill

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IT WAS WARM. ALMOST too warm. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and another wrapped around her neck, tightly. She smiled, attempting to turn around and kiss Josh... but he wasn't there. Behind her was a dirty-faced man. It was Robin. She screamed out and tried to move, but his grip tightened on her neck.

"You'll regret getting your little boyfriend on me." He laughed, his foul breath smelling intensely of something indistinctive. Suddenly everything went dark as she passed out.

#

IT WAS COLD, AND IT was dark. She couldn't see. There was a lot of pressure on both her wrists and her ankles, and she didn't know what had happened nor where she was. It felt damp, as though she was sat on something slightly wet. She flicked her eyelids open and looked around. Where was she?

She still couldn't quite make anything out except a small candle on the wall near a door. Everything else in the room was bathed in darkness. After a while, she heard a clanking of a metal chain. She placed her hands onto the floor, and then noticed she was restrained by metal cuffs, and presumably the same style of cuffs were on her ankles too. The floor was cold and wet, and she had no idea where she was, or what had happened to her. In a bid to figure out what had happened and where she was, she tried to remember what happened before she'd passed out. It was Robin. He was behind her in her room, when she woke up. Josh had gone. Why was Josh gone? Oh yeah, he had work to do. How was Robin there? She didn't know.

She lulled her head back against the wall and sobbed quietly. Everything had gone from bad to worse, and now she was being held hostage by someone who had it out for her best friend, her boyfriend.

The air got colder, and Emie began to lose track of how long she'd been awake for. How long had it been? Ten minutes? An hour? There was nothing to do but stare at the darkness, cry, stare at the darkness, cry. She was confused, but she knew who was behind it.

Josh will help, she thought. He will be there to save me, she thought to herself again. She was clinging onto the hope that Joshua would arrive and take her back home, make her some tea, and hug her. Running that scene again and again in her mind gave her some hope, but she was afraid. Was she going to die? Was she going to be dead in some pit? She didn't even know where she was.

After long, painful hours of waiting, the door finally opened, letting in a ray of light. She heard wheeling into the room, the sound of a wheelchair being pushed toward her. From the hall, the light illuminated the room. It was a small, nastily decorated room. It looked like a room inside a hotel, and she was chained to where a kitchen would presumably be, were the hotel room still in a decent state. The man in front of her wore a surgical mask, with a long scar down the right side of his face and a burn mark down his neck. He grabbed at Emie, pulling her up, and un-cuffing her, then throwing her onto the wheelchair and replacing the old cuffs with the ones attached to the wheelchair.

"Where am I?" She whimpered as the wheelchair rode forwards.

"Be quiet," the masked man said from behind her. She struggled against the restraints of the wheelchair, but was too weak to put much effort into it. They rode down the hallway, which was decorated with brown peeling wallpaper and trashed carpet. The doors were barred, some were broken off, allowing Emie to look into them. It was clear she was in an old mental hospital. The rooms were disgusting - dirty, windows smashed, beds broken. But it was clear from the lack of furnishings, and the old, hardly-ledgible posters which had rainbows and 'positive' messages. No amount of happy thinking was going to help her. She was stuck in a situation which didn't even seem real to her, but she knew deep down that it was real, everything single last thing about it was real. From the pain in her arm, the cuffs that bound her to the wheelchair, and the man behind her... it was real.

They took a left, onto C ward, then through the doors into the communal space for patients. There was a wide widow, presumably not made out of glass, on the wall in the middle. In the room, there was hardly any light. It concerned her, not being able to see. But the man behind them clearly knew. They stopped halfway through the room, and he moved to be in front of her, placing a ball gag into her mouth. "You have to stay quiet, nobody likes a loud bitch." Her moans were muffled under the gag but she didn't have anything insightful to say anyway. Her arms and ankles tried to push through the cuffs, but again, she was too weak. She was sobbing, her eyes stinging, and her neck was hurting.

Fear coarsed through her again, and she tried to think of getting out. What would happen? Was she really going to die? He pushed the wheelchair forward a little more, going out of the room and down another hall. They took a right turn and then into a smaller room. The electricity buzzed on, and in the corner of the room was Robin. His clothes were neat, not like how she'd seen him before. Black suit pants and a black fitted dress shirt, with a long white tie contrasting the rest of the outfit.

"So, Emie, so glad to see you. I messed up a few times, didn't I? Entirely not my fault, I assure you. But these things happen, don't they. Butch, can you please place her on the patient's chair, thank you."

The man behind her uncuffed her and she struggled against him. His strength, however, was not a fair match to hers. She was slammed onto the hard metal chair and then recuffed. Robin walked over to her, spitting on the floor, and then pulled a stool up to sit in front of her.

"Me and you are gonna have a little chat, Em." The way he said her name made her want to cry. It made her mad. It was how Josh said it, in the exact same tone and way. She continued sobbing as Robin stared at her, as though he didn't know what he had done wrong. "Oh, don't cry. I hate it when people cry."

She tried to talk, but the gag stopped her. Robin grabbed it and pulled it down for her so as she could talk. "Look, please, why are you doing this?"

"That didn't make much sense, grammatically. But I just want to talk with you. I want to send a message to loverboy. Don't you get it?"

She shook her head violently, holding back another cry. "I just want to go home," she pleaded, furrowing her brow and blinking several times.

"See, now, I would love for you to go. I would! But I can't. Do you know why? No."

He spoke in short, sharp sentences, which put her on edge. "I just... let me go... I won't tell anyone."

"I couldn't do that, no. I have to talk. Talk to you. With you. Let you know some dirty secrets. I don't think you will enjoy this. I have a thing for pain, don't you know? You should ask Joshua, all about it. Or should I say good old Eddy."

"Who's Eddy?"

"Josh's name! It's Eddy. Back in the day, before he moved back here, he was Ed. Eddy. Edward. We all used to laugh at his name, we did. But that was, maybe two hundred years ago?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Now we're talking. Em, there are things you need to know," Robin said, leaning forward and feigning sympathy.

"Tell me..."

He stood up and went over to a metal tray, dragging it towards them. There were sharp metal tools, none of which looked pleasing.

He picked up a tool that looked like a long, sharp scalpel, and she was scared. She tried to move, but the cuffs were restraining her. She moaned and yelled, but it only served to annoy Robin. He quickly put the gag back into her mouth.

"You used to hurt yourself. I did some digging. You never did anything deep, did you? Well, this should help you along with that." He placed the blade against her leg, and then dragged it hard and slow downwards. The blood rolled down her leg and onto the chair. "Does that hurt?"

She nodded, scared and confused. He put the scalpel back, then sat back down. "Josh, he isnt quite what you think. None of us are, yet we've been right here under your noses for quite literally centuries. You've heard all the legends of vampires, werewolves, all of that nonsense. It's a lie, all of it. They don't exist, but we do. And quite frankly, the lies about vampires and werewolves are degrading, but it's how humans coped with our existence. Power is in knowledge, and so long as people don't know we exist, we have the upperhand." He stood up, laughing, then looking out of the window. "We have always had the upperhand."We are the 'ancient serpents'. I do believe that description in the Bible was applied to Satan, but, religion is a hoo-ha. I don't believe in it and I've been alive far longer than any current man or woman. No, the description of Satan is not one of some ancient man descended from Heaven. No... it is of all of us, the fallen ones. And your fancy tales of vampires? Feeds into that. You are so pathetic and weak. Humans have always been weak. You've witnessed incredible strength and prowess. Denizens of the dark, hunters of the night... whatever you would call us, even vampires... it's true. The devil is very much real... and I guess you could say you just found him."

She writhed around, confused. She shut her eyes, hoping it was all a lie, all a dream... but the pain on her leg was proof that it was happening. She tried to scream again, but then she felt a sharp pain in her arm, and she looked over. Robin had moved to be beside her and had injected her with something.

"Now, that should kick in soon, so we have to say a few things." He sat back down. "I am not going to kill you. Not today. Oh, but I could. Do not ever make that mistake. I am watching you. I always will, I always am. But now is not the time. I would like to make both you and Joshua suffer. So, please, go ahead and ask him about the fallen. Ask him. I beg you. You will have a fieldday learning about the things you never thought even existed. That is, if you even want to speak to him again. But even if you don't believe me, there's always proof and there will always be that fear, niggling at you ever moment of every day."

He took the gag back out of her mouth, and she was feeling dazed. Her vision was incredibly blurry, and her whole body was numb.

"I don't believe you..."

Her head lulled to the side and she stared at him. He laughed, standing up, and ripping off his shirt. There were no scars, no marks, no scratches. His eyes turned a deep shade of black with the bright blue iris still visible, and his jaw came out of place, allowing two longer teeth protrude from his mouth. His laugh echoed down the hall, and he grabbed her neck.

"You don't need to believe me. Believe what you see." His voice had changed pitch, it was deep and full of terror. "Go read a book. But mark my words, Joshua will regret the day he crossed me." He put her down, smiling. Suddenly his jaw came back into place, but he seemed much taller, much broader, and he seemed to even be glowing. He laughed. "Oh, Emie. Have you never suspected? Not even once? Not a single time when you thought something was amiss? Surely you have."

She sat and thought about Josh. It was true, he seemed to hardly ever change, and his eyes were an unnaturally bright blue that seemed to glow in the dark. He had incredible strength, and the money was strange. Everything was happening too fast, and she unsure of how to handle it. Should she believe him? Nothing seemed real. Robin sighed, spitting on the floor again.

"You are stupid not to believe me. The fallen are real, have you never thought to yourself that we are just different? Not once did you think to yourself that Rose or Harriet or Josh weren't normal?"

She shook her head in response, knowing that it was a lie. On several incidents, she'd felt like there was something wrong, something not quite right about the whole situation.

"You ever read the Bible, Em?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Well, it's really no coincidence that the malik, the jinn, the grigori... every religion has their angels, their demons, their devils, their evil-doers. People don't look past that, they never read between the lines." He put a hand to his head, making circle motions. "And that's just crazy." Robin laughed for a few minutes. "The fall of the angels, I think it was called, was used to describe these... creatures. It was clear that someone let things go, and told humans. They got scared, obviously. And that lead to us being outed. The witch trials are no different. They were hunting down witches, but a lot of the fallen died. It's incredible that nobody has put things together."

He stood up, and placed a hand on the wheelchair. Emie was tired, her mind exhausted and she didn't know how to take in all of the new information, if it was even real. But she knew that there had to be some truth in it, at least.

He threw he back and the chair slammed against the wall, and she fell unconscious.

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# 7 A Strange truth

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IT WAS DARK AND SHE still hadn't quite woken up properly. Whatever had been injected into her arm was potent--she'd been unconscious for nearly a whole day, and she felt a lot of pain in the arm that had been injected as well as agony in her leg where he had cut her. She felt light pressure underneath her back and holding her shoulders. Opening her eyes, she realised that it was Josh. For a brief moment she struggled against him, but then realised it was useless. He looked down at her, brushing the hair out of her face.

Emie looked around, trying to figure out where she was. She was definitely inside of a car, but it wasn't Joshua's. She looked forward to see who was driving. It was Clayton. However, she was still concerned. If what Robin had saud was true, she was potentially in a car full of psychopaths, or maybe he was right--were they the fallen angels of legend? Were they really 'fallen'? She tried to sit up, but failed miserably.

"Don't try to sit up yet, you will regret it."

"Who are you?"

"Emie, you know me. I'm Josh, your boyfriend?"

"No, no, no! Robin..."

"Shut up about him, he fed you bullshit."

"No he didn't... I think he was right." Her throat was burning and she wanted to be sick. "I think...I think you're fallen, aren't you?"

He sighed, tapping Clayton's shoulder and demanding that he stop the car. The car came to a halt along the side of the road. She was in a lot of pain, but Joshua moved her to sit next to him. Clayton turned to look at them, and they both sighed. Joshua opened the door.

"Emie, even if that shit is true, I am still Joshua. I am still Joshua Ryan. I was always here for you no matter what, I still love you, I was still there holding your hand when your father died and Clayton and I came to rescue you from whatever the hell was happening in there. You could've died. We spent all night trying to track you down."

"I... I know... but I don't know..." Her heart started to race--she didn't know how to process everything that was happening. "You aren't you. You lied to me. Your name isn't Josh."

"It is! It's the name I chose!"

"What's your real name?"

"Edward. My name is Edward Ryan."

"Ok, but... I'm so confused." She burst into a fit of crying but she was too weak to move her hands to her face. "I don't know what's going on and I don't know how to handle all of this news. I don't think I can even believe it. It makes no sense to me."

"No, and it wouldn't. I... I can't lie to you anymore. He's right. But I'm still the same person, am I not? Did we not come to try and help? Did I not stay with you all the while when I thought you were in danger?"

"But you left me, and he took me!"

"I will get you trauma counseling, anything it takes to make you happy, you know I will."

"It isn't that, Josh. You lied to me. I don't know you and I don't know what's happening and I don't even believe any of this bullshit! It's all fucking shit! I don't understand. I want to go home."

"Emie I can't let you go home. I can't."

"Why not? I don't fucking believe what's happening."

"You are not safe. You will be killed. Robin escaped, please just listen to me." He looked at her with sincerity, brows low and mouth slightly parted. "I love you, Emie. Nothing, and I mean nothing, would change that. At all."

"But I swear, none of this can possibly be real, it just can't be!"

"You'd be surprised. There's an awful lot you don't know." His voice was low and soothing.

"But that's... it doesn't make any sense, at all!"

"Emie," he sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "There's a lot you don't know. I wish I could help you, I really do. I wish I could go back and make sure nobody told you anything, but that isn't going to happen, and I'm sorry. But now you know, and there's nothing I can do about it, really."

"I know, but I am so confused... what happened? Why..."

"Emie, calm down, come lie on me again and go to sleep."

"No, are you going to hurt me?"

"Emie! You're being stupid!"

"Am I?" She pouted, pushing herself against the back of the car, and looking out of the open door.

"I need a smoke. Em, if you want to come with me, and talk, we can. But please, I just need you to work with me here."

"Fine."

She moved to the left, trying to get out of the car, following Josh. She was in pain. Josh held her by the waist and helped her to walk to the bench over by the trees. She was only wearing a long tee, and she felt terribly exposed. Josh pulled a cigarette packet out of his coat, and then lit one.

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way, but I guess... I guess it's better now that you know. There's a lot of... stuff, you could say, that might not make much sense to you, nor should it."

"Damn straight."

"Emie, stop the swearing. I know you're angry but there is no need." He took a drag of his cigarette, and exhaled it, looking at her. "What he said was true. I guess you could say I am one of the 'fallen'. Whatever that means. At the end of the day we're all just people, aren't we?"

"No. What I saw... what he did? Wasn't normal. You aren't people."

"It hurts me when you say that, Emie." He looked down at his cigarette, full of pain.

"I don't care. What is happening? What does any of this mean?"

"Fallen... well, I guess you've heard of the devil. He is apparently... a... fallen angel. Well, that's not all true. There is no Heaven and there is no Hell. There is an afterlife, but there is no Heaven and Hell. You've just been force fed this idealistic vision of what happens after death so as to not be afraid of it. I... We... It's hard to explain."

"I don't understand."

"Nobody is asking you to."

"He mentioned vampires."

"Ah... well, Em," he said, looking at her. He offered her a cigarette and she accepted, despite not being a regular smoker. "Those are just lies, too. Back in the sixteen-hundreds, before, even, we... Well not me, not anyone I know, but... the fallen went on a rampage. Killing people and eating their remains. It happened in one small town. Before that, there were fallen who drank the blood of fallen enemies. It wasn't to sustain them. It just made them feel better, kept them feeling youthful once they got old."

"And... have you, ever..."

"No, Emie. I never want to, but one day I will get old, and when that time comes I might consider it. We get bloodthirsty. Every now and then we have an urge, a desire, a craving to kill. Not humans, don't worry. But it is dangerous. But with that comes impossible strength, beauty, sexual prowess and more. I come from a long line of fallen, and it is possible to make you one of us. It's not pretty but it works."

"What? No! That's not right, Josh. I don't want to think about any of that, much less think it's true. This is all just some elaborate prank, and I know it is."

"Babygirl, I wish it was. I wish that I could just say it was a big joke and then have you trust me again, but that isn't going to happen because we have tried to tell you the truth."

"What about Clayton? He doesn't look like you."

"Eh, the grigori... we call them the elders. Though I guess the actual name for them is the grigori. You didn't listen in religious studies, did you?"

"No, but that isn't the point."

"Well, Em, I'm telling you what is real and what isn't. The issue is that the 'gentle shepherds' guarding over the humans revolted. There is no God, anymore, Em, at least not in our opinions. And it sucks, I know, but that's just what it is and you gotta take it as it is. Now that you know what we are, I offer you to join us, becase this isn't an offer you will get again from anyone else."

"But you could do it at any time, right?"

"Yes, Em. I don't want to but... if you will trust me to do it, then I will. If you wanted. You'd have to move town, move away from everyone you love. The first few days are always hard. They're never easy and I've witnessed so many people end up like this."

"But you said you come from a long line of 'em, right?"

"Yeah, Em. We stop growing normally after... well, right after when you would normally hit puberty. It's different for you people. It is. You don't grow up learning to deal with the things that happen to you, whereas I did."

"No, but I don't even think I want to have to deal with it."

He placed a hand on top of hers and then threw his half-smoked cigarette to the floor. "It is your decision. It is a painful process and you won't feel like yourself for a while. It changes you in a lot of ways, Em. Not just physically but it changes you as a person."

"That sounds horrid. I still don't believe... wait..."

"What is it, Em?"

"When I was with Robin his eye glowed, he was different. Feral. I guess I have to believe you, don't I?"

"Yes, Em, you do. It would be in your best interests if you turned, but I would never force you to. Not ever."

"Okay, I guess...I guess that that is fair."

"Okay, baby. There's a lot of other stuff you don't know. And, the reason why you are in so much danger is because Robin knew when to strike, he knew that we are vulnerable and weak."

"Why?"

"The grigori and the fallen have never seen eye-to-eye. My uncle, was a leader of the fallen, but he negotiated peace terms with the grigori and the fallen, had done for years. He wasn't just killed in a car accident, or whatever I told you. He was murdered in his own home by the grigori. And now? It's a war."

Emie was worried--had she just entered some sort of gangwar? Did she want to know if she'd entered a gangwar? If what he was saying was correct, then she had entered a world of biblical creatures fighting it out... and she had become the target.

"But why me?"

"Vic... the girl I took from him... she's actually the head of this district. She's a smarmy woman, not to be taken lightly though. I don't even know too much about her but she did twist things and put Robin and myself in a fight, of sorts. He's had it out for me since."

"What do you mean? Head of the district?"

"You have towns and cities. We divide up sections of land where the most powerful is elected and can hunt. It's a monarchy, I guess. And Vic is the head of ours, I was set to be the head after her but now that my uncle is gone, and the council has gone to hell, I don't think we will be having a peaceful district much longer. Another district might get involved, purge the troublemakers. There will be no good outcome. Of that, I promise."

"But why me?"

"I've already explained. I took Vic from him, he's bitter."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "How big is the district?"

"This one is the largest. Covers about eight major cities and a whole lot of countryside. It's strategically excellent."

"I am still very confused, Josh."

"That's to be expected, but don't worry." He wrapped an arm around her. "You're taking this far better than I could've imagined. I'll explain a lot to you later, looks like Clayton is getting annoyed."

"You said Clayton is grigori... why is he not trying to kill you?"

"We are old friends. Both me and him... we don't care for the squabbles amongst the court, and the council. We just want peace. In fact he was once one of the advocates for my uncle's negotiations. He wouldn't hurt me, which is why he helped me get you back."

He helped her up and then walked her back to the car. She got in first, and then when he got in, she lay her head on his shoulder. He made her feel safe, even though she was learning all of these new facts that didn't really make sense to her. She had no choice but to believe him over the matter, though. She'd seen more than enough proof. And his invite to be like him? It was crazy. She didn't want to die, but the offer was incredibly enticing. Being young and beautiful forever? Who wouldn't want that? As the car drove off, he wrapped his arms around her, laughing.

"I am amazed. You never cease to amaze me, do you know that?"

"Why now?"

"You took that so well, it's insane."

"I didn't take it well. I'm just trying to figure it all out. I have no choice to believe you... and you have been a great and loyal friend to me, there's no point in telling you I hate you or anything because it's just not true."

"Well, ok. At least you're being honest with me."

"I know." She placed a hand on his chest and sighed. "What's happened, Josh? Am I going to be ok?"

"Yes, Em, you're going to be okay."

Emie had no idea how he could possibly know that she was going to be okay, but she decided that she had to trust him. After all, she'd just been introduced to a world she thought didn't exist. Emie had never really been religious, other than a brief stint when she was young, when she insisted on going to Church and praying. She was young, and wanted some form of faith to follow. Little did she know that she would never keep that faith.

"You ok?" Clayton turned around, smiling.

"Yeah."

Clayton turned back, keeping his eyes on the road. Her head fit perfectly into the space between Joshua's shoulder and jaw, and he smelled good. She was thinking of everything that had happened to her, and, even though she was unsure if she could believe any of the stuff she'd been told, she was happy to be back with Josh. She was happy to be safe. Happy to be alone and away from Robin, even though he was still out there somewhere. Happy to be with the people who she should've been petrified of. Deep down, she felt safe. But, she knew that Josh was trustworthy. After all, she'd known him for a very long time and not once did he cross her--he was a perfect friend and perfect gentlemen. But there was a lot that she didn't know, and she wanted to find out all about the stuff that made him tick.

In fact, she was scared... but she was also incredibly interested in what he had to say. She wanted to learn more about what happened and wanted to learn more about Josh and his friends, and the 'family' at the court which had raised him. She didn't know exactly how long everything had been operating under her nose, and she didn't know how she was able to live her life without suspecting anything was wrong... but what she did know was that she felt at home. Learning new things excited her, even if those things should've been impossible, and never something that existed, she was thrilled to be learning about the culture of the fallen and the grigori. Though she'd never learned about them in religious studies, she felt that it was irrelevant, and that the religious lessons didn't inform them about the true identity of the fallen and the elders.

The car ride was a long journey and it took her to places that she'd never seen before. Looking around, she realized that the hospital had been nestled into the cliffs that she could see from the room at Joshua's. Maybe it was a message that Robin was trying to send, proving that despite her close proximity to a man who loved her, and definitely could care for her, she wasn't safe.

After nearly two hours of driving, they arrived at Joshua's house. It looked empty, as it always did. But there was a Bentley parked outside as well as another car in a rose gold colour. They drove into the garage, and then walked into the house, where Rose and Harriet were sat in the kitchen. Rose didn't look up as they walked in, but rather just took a sip of her coffee. Harry stood up immediately, going over to them, placing a hand on Emie's shoulder and smiling.

"I am so happy you're alright, Josh told me what's happened, are you ok?"

"Yeah." Emie was scared. Looking around, if what she had been told was true, she was in a house full of monsters. Of people that could easily kill her if they wanted to.

"What's wrong, you look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Nothing."

Josh pushed Emie forward gently, taking her to the counter in the kitchen. "I know you're angry, upset, whatever, but please try to understand that none of us have changed, the only thing that's changed is your perception of us."

"No, but you have changed."

He sighed, pulling out a clear glass and fixing her a cup of green tea. "I know that you feel as though things are working against you, us, right now." He grasped onto her hands and cupped them in his. "But I want you to know that everything will be okay, it'll be alright, I promise."

"How do you know?"

"Because I just do. Nothing can get worse, you know what's happened and you know where we stand. There's no more lies between us anymore, I promise, Em."

She laughed, and he backed off, making himself a glass of water. "I think you think I'm overreacting."

"No, not at all. In fact... I'm bewildered as to how well you've taken this. I really am."

"Yeah, I... I guess I'm open minded. People can believe in ghosts and an afterlife and all of that, so why can't I believe in this? After all, I've seen proof."

He looked uneasy. "What proof?"

"Robin showed me." She took a sip of her drink and then looked at him, smiling.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Josh. I just... I guess I'm a bit scared, is all. That all of this has just been... told to me, and I was kidnapped, Josh. I don't know what happened and I don't know what he injected me with, but it was very much real."

He leaned back against the counter and sighed.

"I know how you feel, I truly do. But I don't know what to say or do to make you feel better. I will try to do everything that is within my power to help you though, and you know that I will baby."

"I know."

They looked at each other, and Emie took another sip of her drink. Josh walked off out of the room and into the living room, leaving Emie with Harriet and Rose.

Harriet turned to look at Emie who was shaking a little against the countertop.

"Oh, do sit down, I hate it when people just... linger, like that."

Rose was sat on the far end of the glass and oak table, and Emie made sure to sit next to Harriet, who was far less scary. Harriet smiled and took a sip of a drink, never breaking eye contact with Emie.

"So, Em," Rose said from the other end of the table.

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? I know it can be traumatising, learning something like this." Rose flicked her hair back, nearly pouting with her perfectly defined brown lips. "You know I am always here, should you need me."

Emie laughed awkwardly, smiling. "Yes, I know, thank you, you... you have all been so lovely to me, I don't know why I was so concerned." She chuckled a false laugh, looking around and scratching her head.

"You seem tense, dear," Harriet chirped with a concerned look on her face.

"Oh, well, you know, I was kidnapped." Emie's attempt at humour flopped. "It wasn't a good experience."

"Well, it's good to see you here, have you been to the doctor or to a hospital, yet?"

"No, because I would need to file a police report."

"Oh, right. That is... very true. It isn't a good idea to file a report considering our need for secrecy. An awful lot of the judicial system is rigged in our favour, considering a lot of the judges are either fallen... or have been 'convinved' to join our cause." She sipped her drink. "We are a dangerous people, and things are getting worse, Emie. I'm simply concerned you've been introduced to us at the worst possible time! I mean, all of these troubles... and you probably think you've seen the worst."

"What do you mean?"

Rose shifted at the end of the table, confused, and glanced out of the window. "Should you be scarin' her like that, Harry?"

"Oh, I suppose not."

"Right."

Emie nudged Harriet, smiling. "Please?"

"Well it'll be a bloodbath if things get any further out of hand, considering the last time this happened...."

"When was the last time this happened?"

"A terribly long time ago, and I'm damn ashamed I'm old enough to remember, but there will be murders. We will need to bribe people, coerce people, simply to keep our existence hidden. But we will survive, one way or another."

Josh came in from the living room and beckoned Emie to follow him. She approached him and he took her up the stairs and into the room where she'd stayed before.

"You will be staying here." Emie looked around and then sat on the bed, sighing. She was worried. She was afraid. She'd been thrown into a world that she didn't know, and she had quickly become the plaything for wicked games of hatred. It wasn't good, but she didn't want anyone to know. Especially her mother. Looking around, she realised that there would be things she needed to collect from her house.

Josh sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her. "I know you're scared, it was never my intention. Nor did I ever want you to find out this way, trust me. It was the last thing that I could have ever wanted for you."

She lay her head down on his shoulder, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "I know, it isn't your fault, but I am scared, way scared. I need to get stuff from home."

He looked down at her and rubbed his hand on her arm to comfort her.

"Ok, what do you need?"

"I don't know, I gotta go back."

"I will take you, but you can't go on your own, Em."

"No, I can't."

She pushed herself back on the bed, out of his grip. The ceiling, she now noticed, was painted with swirls, tiny little flowers, and motifs. They were faint, but she had never noticed them before. The air seemed different, and her leg hurt. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises, not a single inch of her felt normal. Her arm, where she had been injected, was still a little numb, and cold. The back of her neck felt as if it were on fire, like she had the flu. Her head span a little, but it wasn't painful. There was most definitely something wrong with her, but going to the hospital was out of the question.

He stood up, and she agreed to go then and there. In addition to going to her house, he told her that he was going to treat her. There were a few stores still open and there were many food places open. He told her that they were having a stay-at-home date-night, considering he'd not been very good to her, and she'd been through Hell. It was a nice idea, but she was terribly afraid. Though she'd taken the news well, she didn't know how to process it properly. Josh, however, was still the same person. And as time passed, she was thinking more about how he hadn't changed in all the years that she had known him. He was kind, gentle, sweet, and he would never dare do anything to hurt her. In fact, he was her ideal boyfriend in a lot of ways. He had his flaws, sure, but they were minimal compared to some people's.

As they got into Josh's car, she found herself chewing the inside of the cheek. It was a habit she knew she had to get rid of, but she was craving a cigarette like crazy. She turned, and asked Josh for one, but he said no, as he'd already given her one earlier on in the day. As they arrived at Emie's house, she threw her head back and groaned. There was a taxi parked outside and her mother was just getting in. Amanda looked up and saw Emie, and waited. Joshua pulled up slowly, and then parked beside the taxi.

"Emie!" Amanda shouted, racing around Joshua's car to reach her.

As Emie stood in front of her, Amanda's jaw dropped. "Em! What happened to you?" She glanced at Josh and opened her mouth to yell but Emie put an arm out, clutching at her mother.

"I fell. It was terrible, but, yeah, things happen. I tripped in the lounge when I was drunk, I was feeling bad. But Josh came over and he's been a great help."

"Are you two..."

She looked at the pair back and forth before settling her gaze on Emie.

"Yes, mom."

"It's about time. I have to go," she said, looking at the taxi driver. "I want you to call me later on today, alright?"

"Yes, mom. I'm stopping over at Joshua's for a few nights because I don't feel too good, so if that's alright with you..."

Amanda abruptly turned, pulling her handbag off of her shoulder and taking her purse out, then taking a handful of notes and thrusting them into Josh's hand.

"Here you are, take care of her, feed her, whatever, she has money in the house but this is just because you've been a damn good friend to her over the years and if she's staying with you I'd feel rather bad if she didn't put a contribution to the bills or the food she's eating." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I honestly don't need to take this, Amanda, but if you insist."

"Oh, well I do insist! I don't need it, either! I need to go, cannot miss another flight, you see. I'm so sorry I haven't been home, but in a few weeks I am having a break from the holidays, only a week or two, but I will be here, more, I promise." She blew a kiss over in Emie's direction and laughed, getting into the taxi.

Josh moved over to Emie, grabbing her arm lightly and helping her into the house. She put her keys in, and unlocked it, then the pair entered.

"This house is a mess, I'm amazed she never said anything about it."

"Well I haven't been here, have I? After... after..." She stumbled up the stairs in silence, and Josh followed her, asking her if she was ok a number of times and he was met with silence.

She went into her room and fell onto the bed, shaking. She felt ice cold, but the memories of everything that had happened were finally hitting her and she wanted to scream. There was a certain bleakness about what had happened to her and it seemed as though she had suppressed her memory of the event for some time after waking up in the back of the car. Josh sat next to her, but his words were drowned out.

Before she realised, she was in a fit of tears, crying and screaming out, being cradled in Joshua's arms. He was shushing her, rocking her gently, his head on top of his. She was crying into his chest, remembering everything that happened, remembering how she felt waking up in the dank room on her own, with no hope of survival.

She knew that she was safe in his arms but she was still scared, furiously scared. There was a fever that was spreading through her entire body and she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Don't worry, princess, you will be ok."

"Will I?"

She continued to cry and sob for fifteen minutes before lying down on her double bed, wrapping herself up underneath the silk and cotton blankets. It was nowhere near as luxurious as the ones at Joshua's, but she was afraid, and knowing all of the new things about him and his family only added to her fear. Joshua placed a hand on her forehead, asking if she had a headache. She said she was fine and didn't need any pills or water, and underneath the covers she took her clothes off, still feeling very warm underneath the duvet.

Josh stood up. "What do you need me to grab? You can stay as long as you'd like."

"Second drawer, I need underwear. Just grab anything. There should be some socks, too, grab some."

"Okay. Have you ever been round the back of my house?" She shook her head in response. "We have a gym and pool, I hope you will make use of it. Tomorrow morning I might have to go for a few hours, down to the court to take care of some business and then I'm signing off at school, lessons finished, but we still have prom, don't we? If you want, I will get you signed out, tell the committee you aren't up to it."

"Yes, please."

He grabbed out a handful of clothes and put them neatly on the edge of her bed, asking what else she needed. He rifled through her wardrobe and took out several tees and five pairs of jeans, and two pairs of shorts. Then, he gathered up two pairs of boots, and some sandals, and placed them on the edge of the bed. She told him that she'd need some makeup, but he only took a few pieces he felt she would need, but nothing else. He took her large tote from behind her vanity and placed all of the clothes neatly into the bag, and placed it on the floor.

"We should be off, you should get dressed. We're going to grab food, order takeaway, and we can do anything you like... my treat. I know you aren't feeling too good and I know that there's not quite anything I can do to make you believe me when I say I'm sorry, but I just want to see you smile."

"Thank you," she whispered as she moved slightly, and then slowly got up. After crying, she always found it hard to breath, and usually, she started to hyperventilate. She stood up and got dressed, falling backwards onto Joshua's lap after she did so. "Thank you," she said again, resting back on him. He placed his arms around her, cupping his left hand inside of his right.

"I promise that I will never hurt you, and you know that I always try and help you as much as I can because all I want is to see you happy, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so, but all of this is just so new to me, and it's a lot to take in."

"I'll admit you've taken this well, Em. I never wanted to tell you but I knew that if I didn't wanna have to move away one day and never speak to you again, I was going to have to. Now, you know, but I know it wasn't done in the best of ways, and Robin is still out there looking for me, you, even... so I am just trying to keep you safe, here."

"I know you are. I know. But this is... scary. The... what is it? Grigora? Grigori? Yeah, I don't know anything. You will need to teach me, I suppose. But then again, I don't even know if I wanna know!"

"No, you probably don't. You know enough. Should you want to become one of us, then... I guess you will learn it all then, but now is not the time."

He laughed, pulling her closer. She jumped up and grabbed his wrist, taking him to the car. "I know I was just crying, I know I was just having a bit of a moment, I didn't mean to! I... I guess it's just my way of dealing with things."

"Yeah, that's alright. You cry as much as you need to, I don't mind, I never will."

They both got into his car and started driving down the long road that led onto the motorway. They got to the high street, where they saw at least seven fast food places open for service. They drove up to her favorite chicken place, and ordered several chicken burgers and nuggets, and then went to the pizzeria at the end of the road and picked up two BBQ pizzas.

The ride home was fun, filled with laughter and music, and nearly half of the nuggets were gone by the time they'd gotten back. The ride seemed to take forever, but it didn't matter, she was having fun. They walked into the house with all of the food and they were met with disapproving gazes from Harry and Rose.

"Josh, why have you got this much food?"

"Well, Harry, I love this girl, and I want to try and make her feel better, so we are gonna have a night to ourselves and stuff our faces, right, Em?" She nodded.

"Clayton is taking Rose down to his for the night, and I have to get off. I will be back around four in the morning, I guess. It's time the first court session ends, and it should be the time you get up and go to the court yourself, we need to get you a new suit and you need to make amends with Vic, because now that your uncle is gone it is highly unlikely someone will step up to his position."

#

HE PLAYFULLY PUSHED her onto his bed, which was by her accounts a thousand times better than both her bed, and the bed in Joshua's guest room. She pulled her tee off as Josh went to the TV to turn it on, and then put a DVD in. He threw her the PJ top that she'd asked him for and she struggled out of her jeans, replacing her whole outfit with one large, oversized shirt. He took his shirt off too, and then his jeans, pulling on some track pants and his robe, then going back to the bed. The food was everywhere--on the floor, on the bed, on the sofa in the corner of the room... literally everywhere. Emie inquired as to what he'd put on, and he told her it was a comedy. Something to try and make her feel more upbeat, even though she thoroughly enjoyed horrors more than anything else.

They cuddled, and her head was lay on his chest. The room was warm, and Josh grabbed the remote from the bedside cabinet, dimming the lights to a low, but comfortable level.

"Now, will you tell me exactly what he did to you? I don't want to put a downer on anything, but I need to know if he did... anything."

"He cut my leg, he injected me with something. He threw me against a wall. I don't really know what else he did, or even if he did anything else."

"The bruises on your wrists and ankles and legs... they... weren't because he did anything stupid, are they?"

"No! Don't be silly... at least, I hope not."

He placed a hand on the inside of her thigh, gently rubbing a bruise. "These don't look too good, I'm really sorry that you had to go through it, and I hope he didn't do anything else. I don't know just how long you were there for, but I do hope you're alright."

"I am, I promise."

He took off his robe, and got underneath his thick duvet. She started to trace invisible lines down his small abdominal muscles, then back up to his chest. "You have such flawless skin, no scars or anything."

"I know, it's... annoying."

"How?" She was slightly taken aback by his response.

"Well, people sometimes like to show off their scars, don't they? We don't get to do that. The flesh heals over, but it heals back with identical tissue without leaving the scar."

"I'd like that."

"Would you?"

"Well, yeah. I'd be perfect."

"Em, you already are, quit your moaning."

She moved away from him and grabbed some pizza. He also grabbed some pizza, but also grabbed some chicken in his other hand.

"And you are so, so thin."

"See, now that is one part of me that I can't explain. Not all of us are, but those of us who hunt or were born like it usually are."

"You hunt?"

"Not really, not anymore. I should, probably, but it's pretty old fashioned."

"Well, what exactly do you mean by hunting?"

"We have someone willing to die... or not. Then we go and hunt for them. It's like fox hunting. Our primal instincts begin to kick in after a few months of not feeding, but it isn't essential to survive. The grigori don't have that issue, which is generally what set them as our overlords all those years ago."

"You're... you're pretty scary, do you know that?"

"Well, thank you?" He laughed a little, sighing. Emie finished off her pizza and grabbed another slice, and Josh finished off the chicken he was holding.

"I've always kinda had a thing for you, you know?"

"Really, now?"

"Yeah, like, remember that summer when you were trying to get laid with the blonde girl who worked behind the bar?"

"Oh, yeah, haha."

"Well, I was so upset, I wanted to fuck you instead, but you went off with her."

"I know, I'm sorry, it was rude of me to just do that, I know."

"You could always make up for it," she said, putting her food down and crawling up to him. "It's not like we never did stuff before, anyway."

He placed a hand on her back, stroking upwards. Her tee was loose, and he pushed her further over, straddling her back and pushing her head into the pillow lightly. "I know, Em, but after everything you've been through, I'd rather if you just relaxed, you know?"

"Yeah, I am relaxed," she whispered.

He moved back enough that he could bend down and kiss the arch of her back, which made her feel funny. It was good, but she was hardly experienced.

"You okay?" She nodded. He got off of her and lay beside her, pulling her over to him, getting her to straddle him, then taking her tee off for her. "We need to get to sleep, this is crazy."

She wrapped both arms under his neck, nuzzling into him. "I know, it's pretty late, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and I need to be up early."

"I like lying here."

"I can tell, you keep moving against me, though, please stop, I personally can't sleep like that."

She moved off of him, kicking an empty pizza box off the bed. "How long will you be gone for tomorrow?"

"Just two hours, probably not even that long, depends if Vic wants to be a bitch or not."

"That's alright, will you wake me up when you get back? Will someone be here when you're gone?"

"Harry will be here, I wouldn't leave you alone, not after everything that happened."

"Alright, thank you."

"It's no worry, I want you safe."

He kissed the top of her head, and then turned the lights off using the remote controller. She was beginning to get cool, furrowing deeper into the blankets, and then curling up into a ball. She was happy, she was with somebody that she loved, that cared about her, and she had everything that wanted right there. Sleeping, however, seemed to be full of nightmarish terrors and nothingness.

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# 8 a threat

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IT HAD BEEN LITTLE over a week since the kidnapping. Emie was still feeling ill, and the bruises and cuts still hurt. Over the week, she'd hardly seen Joshua, only for two brief meetings when he'd needed to check up on her or bring her some gifts. Clayton, on the other hand, had shown his face multiple times.

He was sat opposite her in the living room, a cup of tea in one hand and a cigarette packet in the other. Emie was vicariously living for fleeting moments through the memories Clayton had, and she was learning new and exciting things. He'd been there for three hours. It was a lax meeting, but he seemed to be interested in helping her learn about the new things she was expected to know. There was a lot to take in, and Emie was sure that she should be more afraid than she was.

"So, do you understand what I've said so far? We haven't really covered much ground, I mean, I've really just told you about my life and what I've done with myself."

"True. I don't understand the difference between you and people like Josh. I mean, why the differences? Why?"

"I wish I could give you a solid answer." He pointed to a textbook on the table. "That book right there should give you a solid enough basis, if you want to go straight for the religious opinion. I'm one of the oldest and most powerful here, I call bullshit on that book. But I guess, for what you need it for, it's decent."

"What do I need it for? I just want to know more about everything, I guess. I used to love maths and history and all the other lessons at school, I want to know the truth, don't just point me to something you know is false."

"Alright," he said, throwing the book on the floor with the palm of his hand. Clayton took a sip of his tea and then lay back against the sofa. "We're just gonna have to teach you like this. Books don't cover any of it, and for good reason."

"I understand, Clayton. So, tell me all about it."

"About what? The differences between us?"

"No, I wanna know about the differences between you guys... and us."

Clayton shifted around a little, taking a cigarette out of the packet he'd been clutching and lighting it. He looked nervous.

"There are a lot of differences, Emie."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Well... you know, we're all pretty. I guess you could say."

"Why is that?"

"Evolutionary thing, I suppose. Though not all of us are, we generally keep the attractive traits of when we grew up... not all, though. Some did change."

"What about you?"

"I've kept the same look from when I was first... I guess, born?"

Emie tried to understand what he was saying, but the notion escaped her. It was simply too strange for her to be able to grasp fully. "But, why?"

"We're all savages. We are pretty grim company, at least, we were, before. Killing people, running human farms. We're so charming because we needed to be."

"I guess that makes sense, but why now? Do you still need to be?"

"We do still kill people, Em. We don't like to admit it but we do. Tends to be people who are willing to die, those herded up at the court. But we don't need to, not really. It's more for fun."

"What the fuck!" Emie was taken aback, and scared by his confession. "For fun? You kill for fun?"

"Not me, not really. A lot of people don't. I think the main example I have is of Vic, who... does. She has a penchant for it, but then again, she's just about hot enough that most people for literally die for her."

"What does she look like?"

"Well, typical Barbie look, I guess. Thin, tan, blue eyes, and blonde hair. She's practically perfect. Except she's got a huge scar along her neck, and now she's starting to get old. It's terrible how she's gone downhill so fast, but she's still up there with the best of 'em."

"A scar? I thought they didn't scar."

"Well, that's true, but sometimes if it's too deep, the skin can't heal it properly and then they're left with a scar. It's... all a bit odd, and the older we get, the more likely of it happening. Our systems begin to slow down. It's the same as you."

"So, the same as humans but over a longer time period?"

"I guess, Em, you're getting it!" He smiled reassuringly at her, then looking back at the papers on the table. He leaned back, grabbing his cup of tea. "It's nice I can still enjoy the little things, some people... they forget how to appreciate the little things. Josh can't eat apples, anymore. I remember when I first met him, he loved them. He grew out of it."

"Tell me more about Josh... I don't know much, really. Now that I know he's... what is it? Fallen?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know what you'd want to know, particularly. He isn't the most fascinating guy other than the fact that he's kind of a big deal. He was next in line for the council chair, you know. But I guess... now his uncle's dead... that's about to change. I mean, the Grigori are trying to get ahead. They already hold the highest possible positions in the court but now they want more."

"So... what's going to happen?"

He looked out of the window. His answer was short and uncertain, hardly making sense. It seemed as though he tripped through his words. There was some sense though, she tried to get to grips with what he was saying, though it was an entirely new world to her. She listened carefully, and when he'd finished half-explaining, she took a swig of her drink and then stood up, stretching.

"I think that's enough for now. That's... a lot for me to take in. I don't want you to tell me I'll die, I don't want anyone to die, but if that's... if that's where it's going..."

"I never said that Emie."

"Well, no, you didn't. But you certainly alluded to it."

He shrugged and stood up, opposite her. "I never said it, I never assumed it. I never alluded. But, it's a possibility."

There was a quiet tapping at the door, and then Rose entered. It wasn't her house, but she entered as though it was. She had immediately captured both of their attention. In the past week, at least, since Emie had returned to her home alive, Rose had been nowhere to be seen. It was as if she had been avoiding her. Josh hadn't mentioned her either, in fact... nobody did. She seemed to vanish for a while, along with all of the problems she caused. Her eyes dropped to Emie and she snarled.

"What're you doing?"

Clayton rolled his eyes and laughed. "First of all, that's none of your business. And second of all," he took a drag from his cigarette. "I'm just explaining a few things to Emie."

Rose walked towards them, dragging her heels and crossing her arms -- her eyes never shifted from Emie. "Explaining what?" The way she looked at Emie made her feel terribly uncomfortable. The way she stared was... frightening.

"Rose, that isn't your business. As I just said to you." Clayton stood up, with a half smile on his face. "I'll be going now, Em," he said, picking up his coat.

"Thanks, Clayton. Means a lot, you know."

He smiled and then tried to walk to the door, a cigarette still in his fingers. Rose, however, had other plans. She stopped him in his tracks and he sighed, sinking his shoulders. His eyebrows dropped and he turned back around to look at Emie, shrugging.

"I'm watching you two," Rose said. She pushed him away and then sauntered over to Emie, smiling. "And don't worry about whoever you think is trying to hurt you. You should worry about me." Rose spat at the ground, and then turned around, grabbing Clayton's arm and pulling him out of the door. Emie was left concerned, scared, and emotionally hurt. There had always been a sort of hostility between Emie and Rose, but until then, it had always been... hidden. There had been no attacks or gestures that led to one or the other feeling as though they'd been attacked in some way, but Rose had crossed a line. And of course, now that she knew the truth behind their family, their species, their existence... things seemed bleaker. Everything seemed to be more dangerous.

#

EMIE WAS STILL CONFUSED. After Rose's... outburst... Emie was left bewildered and somewhat lost. She'd been fed an awful lot of information, most of which didn't make any sense. The likelihood of any of it being the truth? Terribly slim. But what had she seen? Could she explain any of it? The answers she'd been looking for didn't lie in logic and human truth. Clayton had returned, this time without Rose. He'd told her that Rose had given him an ear full, and sitting down next to Emie with a cup of tea was better than out with Rose.

"Yeah she's not a good person, I just wish she would calm down sometimes. She worries me. And Josh, for that matter."

"I suppose so, but we've always had a sort of... mutual hate?"

"I've never really been told that, it's obvious really," Clayton laughed, nudging her playfully. "After all, when was the last time you spoke to her properly?"

He put his tea back onto the table and then grabbed his bag, from which he took a hip flask. It was sturdy and silver on the exterior, with elegant carvings, presumably a family crest or something. He lived for several decades in England, and during that time, both he and his family were able to create a name for themselves. Though their name was somehow smudged during the 1700s, their lineage never waned from nobility.

It was clear that he'd been drinking since he'd been picked up by Rose, and even though it hadn't been too long, she'd seen him drink before. He drank fast, and he drank hard drinks. He smelled of a mix of cigarettes and whiskey, some hints of Amaretto... it was a sickly smell, far too sweet.

They both stood and made their way out of the living room, out onto the poolside, they sat on the bench and he slouched a little.

"I don't know what else I can tell you, Em. What about Josh?"

"Josh is on his way, well..." she grabbed her phone and checked the time. "He'll be starting out in about half an hour, but he seems... he doesn't want to tell me anything. I dunno, he just seems so hesitant." He moved a little towards her, almost leaning on her. "How much have you had to drink?"

"A lot."

"Why?"

"Rose is a handful... you're lucky you don't have to deal with her, especially with all the stuff that's going on."

"Okay well, explain to me what's going on. Nobody has told me anything, except for what Harry told me, and even then... it wasn't making sense. I'm confused."

"It is confusing, you've never had to deal with anything like this before. I know."

"How would you know?"

"Eh, it was strange... it was strange to us all when it started." He sighed with a resigned look on his face. Surely if it was confusing to him, it would be hell to understand for someone like Emie. "As I've told you... Grigori... fallen... yeah, they don't get along. You ever read Animal Farm? It was a bit like that for a long time. I guess it isn't a very accurate comparison but, you get the idea. And then there was something of a movement among them. Suddenly, there was equality between the two, but they weren't the same. They were not the same people. They didn't want the same things. The feral animals against the civilized people... it didn't... well, let's just say it didn't work for a long time. But then it did, and there were hiccups along the way but for the most part, everyone was happy with how things were working. Hell, I remember a time when we would fight, but only for a few days. After that they'd just go kill some people and have some drinks together, and troubles were over. This... is the first time I've known something like this on a large scale. It isn't just here..."

"What do you mean? You're not explaining anything."

He lay back even further, slouching. He stared at his empty hands. "I need a drink."

"No, just... just explain this stuff to me, please."

"Fine... well, there's been a few incidents in places like Russia and France. I know they seem a whole world away but it isn't. At all. So, okay, here. We. Go. The Fallen seem to want retribution. They want to get even and they want to hold the power, but considering we're all victim to our natural instincts, you can assume that it gets very nasty, very quickly. People die, places get burned down, innocent people get killed and whole groups of people are slaughtered for no reason other than to send a message. Because it gets so bad, we're all usually just happy to accept that this is how things are, especially considering people are so connected now. Before, it would go down to myths and religion, people would claim they were being killed by God or whatever they believed in... but now people go to the internet and share their thoughts and ideas. Recordings get posted and we face being discovered, which wouldn't be good... although... I... I don't know." He lay his head on Emie's shoulder and sighed. "Everything's gone to shit, and I'm not sure how to stop it. They're expecting us all to go against one another but I'm not allied and never have been."

"Why aren't you involved?"

"None of us are, by that I mean me, Josh, Rose... all of us, we aren't involved. But a lot of people are, and they're out for blood. Just the other day there was a court taken out... a bloodbath... I think there were only a handful of survivors, all of which fled, and one of them ended up here, in Vic's district. I do believe they're currently tied up in the basement, because they're all worried they'll try and spread malicious ideas, they could start something none of us can control. Vic herself has admitted she couldn't contain something like that from spreading. But... of course..."

He stopped and there was an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"Since Josh's uncle died... there's been no stability anyway, there were a few murders the other day, and there's been a few disappearances. I don't like it." Finally, he sat back up. They spoke a little longer about Vic, as Emie was curious. But there was nothing she desperately needed to know. The silence was calming for a while, some cars went past, but apart from that, there were no noises to break the silence. They'd been growing increasingly close, and, it was evident from his drunken advances that he had feelings for her, but obviously, or at least, she hoped that it wouldn't get in the way of his and Joshua's friendship; that was the last thing she wanted to do, tearing apart a friendship? She didn't want that on her mind, especially now she had all of that to think on.

He wrapped an arm around her, and though Emie coiled away slightly, he pulled her closer. "You're freezing cold, I mean nothing by it, Em... but you'll catch your death if you keep sitting outside in this weather."

"I don't normally," she replied looking up at the sky. The sun was setting, and the air was cooling down. It was the sort of mild temperature that made everyone feel at ease, the temperature that was neither cold nor hot, it was just perfect. Clayton pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket with his spare hand, and skillfully placed it between his thick lips and lit it. It was evident that he'd been smoking for a terribly long time.

"Hey, why do you smoke," she inquired, looking at him. His high cheekbones, under the light of the sunset, weren't as harsh. His hard features seemed softer, and everything about him was less rough. Though he was tanned, he seemed to be as pale as a sheet in the nearing low-light, and she found herself attracted to him. She was before, but now? She knew if she'd been drinking, she would've done something she'd regret.

"I smoke because I always have, it's just something to do with my hands. Like drinking. Only... the drink does something whereas the smoking is force of habit." He smiled and rubbed his hand up her shoulder, inhaling and exhaling deeply. A few birds flew over the sky, interrupting the perfect gradient of oranges, blues, pinks and purples. A few more cars went past and then... silence. Pure, unadulterated silence. It was blissful, peaceful. Emie was able to forget for a few moments who was holding her, and she lay a little, letting herself unwind. She was comfortable and felt secure. Clayton was somewhat heavier built that Joshua, and that made her feel safer than when she was with Joshua. Clayton, unlike Joshua, was very much honest, aggressive... but like Joshua, he was perfect in his own way. The pair were usually inseparable, but it would seem that with everything going on, they were going through a rough patch in their friendship.

There was a sudden clanking and before Emie could move out of Clayton's embrace, Joshua was inside the garden, staring at them. Clayton slowly moved, throwing his cigarette to the floor.

"You alright, mate?"

"What's going on?" Joshua walked towards them slowly, apparently analyzing the scene and what he'd just seen. There was nothing going on, of course, but it could've looked... weird.

"I was just telling her about everything... you know... grigori shit."

"Nah, what's happening? Why're... you've been drinking!" Joshua walked over to them and placed a hand on Emie's shoulder as he stood in front of her. "You ok?"

"This was just us being friends, Josh. I pinkie promise," she stared up at him and smiled. Joshua sighed.

"You shouldn't be drinking, Clayton. Rose called, she said you've been drinking all day."

"So, I might've been... but that's really nothing bad compared to what you do when you're stressed. Admit it," Clayton stood up, both arms out in a questioning motion. "You're stressed too, aren't you? How can you not be? This is close to Hell."

"Don't say that," Josh said. He took Clayton's arm and walked him out of the garden. Emie heard them talking but she couldn't make out what they were saying. It was a terribly close incident, and she was thankful that it didn't look like anything. Joshua scared her. Clayton scared her. She didn't want to lose either of them... and it was a good thing she felt that way, she thought.

She slouched down, and sighed.

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# 9 A Hunting ground

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THE LIGHT SCENT OF rose petals soothed Emie. Her hair was soaking wet, with small beads of water still dropping from her hair and onto her shoulders, seeping through the silk of her kimono.

It was prom night, and there was a sense of romance about the whole thing. Joshua had made up the room, decorated it with red flowers and the occasional lily breaking up the reams of red and white. Beneath her was the beautiful white silk with extravagant embroidery, and from the en-suite bathroom, there was the beautifully hazy yellow-white glow of the dimmer lights. The main room's lights were low, but the various candles provided the most light for her.

Her whole body dropped backwards against the bed, and as her hands flung above her head, she accidentally knocked one of the many boxes that lay above the pillows. Joshua, in attempting to ensure prom night was as much a success as he desired, had bought her several items for her to wear, including designer shoes and a fitted dress which she'd only seen a few glimpses at. However, she trusted Josh's judgment on what he bought. She's previously purchased a dress to wear -- a long purple one with a corset. However, she'd outgrown it.

When she heard the knocking at the door she bolted upright. Josh, probably. She coughed, and the door opened. It wasn't Joshua, but rather, it was Clayton. As he entered, Emie covered herself a little more with the kimono. Though they were friends, she still felt a little self-conscious around him. More than often, it was simply because of her attraction to him. He was an attractive man, possibly even more than Joshua was, but she knew he was off limits. They'd been close, they'd nearly been caught when cuddling. Joshua was more than understanding, however, and it seemed as if he was more than eager to forgive Clayton no matter what had happened. Backing up the story that others had told her, they were close and had been for decades, longer, even.

He sat beside her and laughed.

"I can't wait to see you all dressed up. I've never seen you dressed up properly. Only that one time you wore a dress to the meal we all had, but that's it."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Prom night is a big deal, I guess. Josh wanted to make sure I look as good as I can."

"You always look good," he said in a low voice, slightly swaying toward her. As he moved, the air carried along the scent of his cologne mixed with rum. Again, he'd been drinking, but the look on his face said he wasn't drunk.

"Anyway, what's up?" She was curious as to what he was doing, in her room, for no reason.

"I just wanted to come up and say hi. Josh has gone out," he murmured, placing an arm around her, pulling her into him. He was warm. Unlike Joshua.

She found herself drawn into him, like a moth to a flame. Though she knew the dangers, the risks, she felt... amused by them. It was exciting. She placed an arm across his chest with her hand on his shoulder. Within only a few moments, her kimono was falling off of her shoulder and both of his hands were on her, slowly, carefully, pulling her kimono off of her. Though she'd never been so intimate with him, she felt comfortable, even in her partial nudity.

Clayton pushed her down onto the bed, both of their breathing got deeper, and she was concerned she'd go further than expected. Though she didn't necessarily want it... she wasn't denying it. She invited it. Both of her legs wrapped around him and he pushed the pair higher up on the bed, knocking the boxes off -- they were wrapped with ribbon, so none of them opened.

The speed at which things were moving between them scared Emie. She'd never been so quick to end up naked and underneath someone, even Joshua. Clayton's little kisses felt like acid burning into her neck, her collarbones, her jawbone. Not that they didn't feel good, no, they felt wonderful -- like caramel. But, she was torn. Joshua, if he were to catch them, would be devastated.

His hand slid up the inside of her thighs, and her back arched upwards.

"You sure?" He whispered.

"I..." His questioning made her feel uncertain again. Clayton noticed the pause in her answer and stood upright, putting his hands on his belt line and adjusting his jeans to hide any evidence he was 'excited'. "I'm... sorry. You know how I feel, but you know Josh... he wouldn't..."

"Josh isn't here, Em. He wouldn't know unless you told him."

"But he's your friend," she said, standing up and pulling her kimono off of her completely and throwing it to the floor, and then picking up the strapless red lace bra off of the chair. She was told it had to be strapless and red -- that was the only thing that would work with the dress he'd gotten her. Clayton watched her intently as she pulled on her matching red lace thong, and then reached for the black garter belt.

"Why are you working so hard to look so good for a man who doesn't appreciate you?" Clayton sighed, sitting back on the bed with a slight smirk on his face. "Joshua doesn't know loyalty. He's a dog."

"Why would you say that about your friend, Clayton? You're just a dog as he is."

His brow furrowed and his smirk faded. There was obvious pain in what she'd said, and he coughed a awkwardly in order to offset the lump in his throat.

"Emie, I've been watching you. And him. He went to a strip club last week."

"I don't see what your point is. Did he fuck anyone? No. It's a bar. They're called gentleman's clubs for a reason, you know." Emie sat on the chair and pulled up her black stockings. She sat there in full lingerie, and knew Clayton's gaze was on her, looking at every curve of her toned, slightly tan flesh.

"But..."

"But nothing, Clayton," she laughed, turning to the mirror in front of her and making sure all of her underwear looked neat and precise. "I don't care what you say about him. I love him."

"If you love him so much, why are you happy to let me touch you?" He stood up, arms crossed. "You know, Em, I don't think you love him at all."

She stood upright, and exhaled sharply. "What?" Her question was a singular plural, and it was flat. She turned and walked to him. Though he was much taller than she was, she was more than happy to approach him in such a manner. "You want to bang your best friend's girl. You know what that makes you? Worse than me. I hesitated. You instigated. There's a fucking difference. I want you to leave." She crossed her arms, too, and then pushed past him, picking up all of the boxes off of the floor that had fallen when he was on top of her. She looked carefully at them and noticed that each had a small piece of engraved paper that had a golden letter on them. They were numbered, in the order of which one she had to open first. Clayton attempted to talk to her again, but Emie threw up her hand and shushed him.

The first box was small, but, upon shaking it, she realized there were several boxes inside of it. Clayton watched as she gently took off the ribbon and opened the cream lid. There were three small black boxes lined up with the name of a designer brand on two of them, and the third box was unnamed.

She opened the one on the left, and as it opened the light caught the glimmer of diamonds. Two beautiful diamond earrings. She gently pulled them out of the packaging and placed them into her ears. It had been a while since she'd worn earrings, but the large, clear diamonds dazzled her -- with every movement she made, the light reflected from the beautiful cut gems. The second box was slightly larger. Again, she was met with the beautiful glimmer of diamonds. It was a chunky cover made entirely of diamonds with a single large, red ruby in the center. She smiled, knowing how beautiful it was. She thought of how much it cost, but she didn't want to think. Clayton approached her, and assisted her to put it around her slender neck. The clear white contrasted her tan, and the large ruby set the look entirely on fire.

And then came the third box.

She gently picked it up, and the familiar scent of old books hit her. The lid was easy to open compared to the brand new boxes that had contained the precious diamonds, and when she opened it properly she saw a beautiful gold ring, haloed with diamonds, and again, a single, large ruby as the center piece. It was a large ring, and it was old. Instantly, Emie knew it wasn't store bought. She tried to place it on her finger, but it was quite small. With enough effort, she got it onto her ring finger. It was beautiful. It caught the light in a magnificent, beautiful way, every single cut edge of the beautiful small stones was remarkably wonderful. Clayton sighed.

"I guess he does love you."

"Why?" She asked, turning to look at him.

"That ring... isn't just any old ring, it was his mothers. And her mothers. And it carried on like that for centuries. I didn't... I never thought he'd give it to anyone. I'll see myself out." He kissed the top of her messy hair and then silently walked out.

She picked up the second box, which was the largest. It was obviously the dress he'd bought for her. She carefully placed it down and opened it slowly. She took out the layers of paper which helped to ensure the dress was safe in transit, and then it was revealed to her. She saw layers upon layers of lace and taffeta. Carefully pulling it out of the box, she finally saw it.

The full length gown, the silk and lace full-length bodice with long sleeves, the gemstones and embroidered detailing on the skirt under the lace... it was beautiful. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.

#

IT WAS 9:32PM. THE black Porsche arrived at the hall that had been booked for prom. Joshua got out first. He was dressed in a perfectly neat black suit with a red pocket square, his blackish-brown hair slicked back a little, in a style he never donned. The black-dressed Fallen made his way to the other side of the car and opened the door for Emie, helping her get out. The make-up artist for Emie had perfected her hair into long, curled tresses with a beautiful gold clip in the back securing her grown-out bangs. Her dress just touched the floor, with only the slightest amount of her black platform, red-soled shoes showing.

Joshua held her around the waist, assisting her into the entertainment hall. When they walked in, the evening had already started. From the other side of the hall, Emie could see Rose slouched against a wall, isolated. She was wearing all black, as she usually did. There was seemingly nothing different about Rose's appearance from the norm. Her waist length black hair parted in the middle, in messy waves. However, she wore a knee-length black dress, instead of the normal micro-mini she donned to most events. Joshua glanced at her but ignored his sister as he walked to the bar with Emie. It was wonderful that they'd held the event in a place with a bar -- a place with alcohol. However, not everyone had ID, so alcohol-free drinks had been provided for free for the students who didn't have their ID. Joshua knew the bar staff on a first name basis, it seemed.

"Two shots of that vodka, up there," he said, pointing to the top shelf. The woman grabbed it and poured the two glasses full with one swipe over them. Joshua paid, and Emie picked her shot up. "Come on baby girl, three, two..."

They both downed their shots, Emie laughed. The pain of the alcohol going down her throat was familiar, but it wasn't calming in the slightest. Emie was concerned that someone who could hurt her would be there. Harry had declared it to her, that her fear of being taken again was very much real. After all, was Robin dead?

Joshua ordered two more drinks. When they were served they made their way out to the back of the hall where there was a door which led out to the smoking area. It was empty, as all the students were busy inside. He pulled her gently over to the bench and sat her down, sitting next to her. They sat close, with his arm around her.

"I love you," he said, playing with the ring on her finger.

"I love you, too," she replied. He took her hand inside his and then kissed her forehead.

"Do you promise you won't do shit with Clayton? Because I know he has a thing for you."

"Oh..." she blushed bright red, but laughed the question off, shaking her head. "Of course I won't."

He smiled and then hugged her, one hand on the back of her head. The large gold ring on his thumb was heavy enough for her to feel it against her head. It had the family crest of his family on it, and he said he'd never part with it, but he rarely wore it. She understood why, of course. There was no way that a ring like that wouldn't catch the attention of someone. But he admitted he wore it to certain events where he knew nobody with a thorough history of his family would be. For once, she could feel him breathing. It was peculiar, given how light his breathing usually was -- sometimes he didn't breath at all.

He let her go, taking a swig from his drink that he'd placed on the table. Emie followed suit. The sky was getting dark but the air was still wonderfully warm. His hand was still on her back, rubbing her gently. She felt comforted by it, by him. He smelled different to how he usually smelled, it was a... warmer smell.

A couple of people walked by, smoking, but they threw the butts to the floor and went inside, leaving them alone again. "Do you wanna stay out here for a while before we head back in, Em?" She nodded as she lay her head down onto him. "You alright?"

"I'm constantly scared. I don't want... I don't want to die."

"You won't, but hey, why're you scared? Are you scared tonight?"

"I suppose I am. I don't know why... Clayton... He's been teaching me about some stuff, your stuff." She moved upright to look at him. "I know a lot more than I probably should. Hell, it's also caused more issues with Rose. But... I just..." She sighed and moved uneasily. "Would you ever turn me?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Make me one of you."

"It isn't that easy... I'd... It's... why?"

"Well, would I not be safer that way? I could defend myself more. From what I know, it wouldn't be too bad."

"Emie it's awful. It's horrid. There are certain things about us that make us worse than humans. Not just the feral nature, but the fact we need to murder in order to turn people. We always have that urge to kill. And there are certain... illnesses... which only taint us. The Grigori never face that, but you could never be a Grigori."

"I was just wondering if you ever would... tell me more about the process. I only know a little."

"It's hit and miss, Em. Can't we just enjoy the night? I don't want to talk to you about murder and death and horror tonight." He kissed her cheek, and moved in closer to her. "I've had the car parked around the back, we can go have some fun if you're up to it, Em." He bit down gently on her neck and she placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head, keeping him on her neck. He bit a little harder and she gasped, she knew he'd cut her with his teeth. She could feel a little blood rolling down her neck.

"Josh did you just-"

"Yes."

The hand he still had on her back made it's way into her dress through the large gap in the lace and silk. "I love you," he murmured in between biting her neck. She liked the pain, even if it was more than he'd usually inflicted on her. He stood up and wiped away the blood on his lips, holding a hand out to help her up. "We can go to the car or we can go back inside."

"We can go back to your house after this, can we not? I'm sure it'll be better than in the back of your car, Josh."

"True," he replied. When she stood up he took the pocket square out and gently dabbed where he'd cut with his teeth, cleaning up the mess. He coughed, and they went back into the hall. Joshua let go of her and pointed forward, telling her where Keenan and some others were. They were sat around a large table to the left corner of the hall, and Emie knew she was meant to go sit there. Some of her friends were there, though she hadn't spoken to too many of them lately. "I'm grabbing us some more drinks, you go sit over there and I'll be over there in a few minutes, alright." His hand slid down the arch of her back as he kissed her forehead, and then they parted ways.

She found it a little hard to walk in the shoes, whilst at the same time ignoring her urges to just go back home and fuck Josh all night. She made her way through several people, but turned around sharply when someone grabbed her arm with some force. It was Rose. She stood there, and she looked drunk. She was lost in the crowd of people and didn't know where Joshua was, but she was scared. Rose had a look of evil on her face and it was evident she was out for mischief.

"Look, Rose... I don't want any trouble."

"I don't either, honey, can we talk, just us?"

"I..." Emie didn't feel good about the situation, but she nodded and went with her. She was lead through a different door, but Rose claimed they were making their way to the smoking area. The outside was cleared and led down to the parking lot around the back of the venue.

"I'm sorry about everything that's gone on between us, I'd like to make it up to ya," she said. Her words were slurred. Half of Rose's face was covered by the dark shadows. "I really like your dress, it's a perfect deep shade of red. My faaaaavorite shade of red."

Rose walked a little further down the path, stumbling. Emie followed. "Where are we going?"

"Oh... I just... like to walk. I see you've got the ring."

"What? This? Joshua gave it to me."

"Aw why, how luuuurvely. Does he wish to marry you, I wonder?"

"I don't... I don't know."

Rose stopped and turned to face Emie. "Even if he does, he won't get to."

"What?"

It took a second to realise what was happening, but by then Emie couldn't run. Rose had a small knife up to Emie's throat, cutting her a little, spilling the red liquid onto her dress.

"We don't fucking care if you live or die but by God we will enjoy whatever happens!" She kicked her down, narrowly missing Emie's face with the blade. Rose kicked her, and then kicked her again. Through the blurriness of her tears, she saw the figure of someone else walking towards her. It was...

It was Robin. He bent down in front of them and Rose backed off.

"Heya, Emie. Nice seeing you again. Why, oh why, am I still here? Well, Joshy doesn't care about you. Of course he doesn't. Didn't even keep an eye on you after you said to him just you were scared. 'Oh Emie I love you, oh Emie don't be scared, oh don't worry'... what bull shit." He placed a finger on her cheek, and Emie bit it sharply, feeling the bone crack, possibly breaking under the weight of her jaw. As he backed up, holding his finger to try and stem the flow of blood, Emie shuffled away, her dress ripping on the harsh ground of the floor, and the gold pin in her hair falling out, dropping onto the dirt.

"Emie!" Josh was behind her in a matter of seconds. "You son of a bitch!"

Joshua pounced over Emie and then onto Robin. Rose stood back, away from the action, watching with excitement. Emie sat upright, crying, holding a hand to the bleeding cut on her neck. She grew cold as she watched the two brawl on the floor, and she attempted to move away but she felt weak, drowsy. Like being drunk, only she wasn't. Joshua grabbed Robin's neck, and snapped it, grabbing the blade on the floor and stabbing directly through the centre of his neck. Blood was everywhere. It poured out of every orifice, staining the ground a deep copper instead of the mucky brown. Watching him die was... strange. Emie felt different, free, as though the person she was running from had finally been stopped in his tracks. Joshua stood up, stumbling backwards before tripping and falling to the floor.

Emie watched him as he made his way back to the corpse of Robin. He dug into his pocket, finding a battered wallet. He opened it, and saw a thick wad of cash as well as a small picture of Rose... it was obvious what was going on.

Josh threw his head down between his knees, crying. He put the wallet onto the floor, then flung his head backwards, looking up at the sky. It was the first time Emie had seen him cry. Family had meant everything to him, but it was clear that things weren't working that way for him anymore. Had his own sister betrayed him? Working with the man who he'd been trying to kill? Rose had been trying to get Emie killed in a bid to hurt Joshua, for some unknown reason. Clayton was possibly not knowing to the situation.

He let out a loud scream before standing up and going to Emie, who was also crying. She was hyperventilating, her body numb and cold. "Come on, we... we have to go... we need to get to mine. I'll... I'll call Vic... she can help, come on, baby, you ok? You need some bandages, we'll sort this, we'll sort this I promise, we'll sort this."

His words were jumbled and repetitive, and she'd never seen him display so much emotion before, it was bizarre. It was strange. It was almost... scary. He picked her up and stumbled through the back alley and to the car, he put her gently down into the back seat and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

She looked at him, covered in blood. The scent he had before had changed once again. But it wasn't him that smelled like death. It was his clothes. He vanished back along the alley and within moments he reappeared with the body of Robin, which was limp and going grey quickly. He flung it into the boot of the car and then sat in the back with Emie. Both of them covered in blood, Emie still hyperventilating a little. He sighed, grabbing her and pulling her upwards into him, accidentally getting more blood on her. The diamonds around her neck had been dyed a sort of off-white pink shade from all of the blood. He rocked them back and forth, until there was a knocking on the blacked out window and Harriet opened the door. She passed them a bottle of gin and then sat in the front of the car. She said nothing as she started driving along the narrow path and then onto the main road. Joshua chugged the bottle of gin, finishing off half of it in one long drink, and then passed it to Emie. She figured a drink wouldn't hurt her, not after everything that was happening again. She pushed her head onto Joshua's chest as she handed him the bottle back, and she began to cry again.

"What happened, Josh?" Harriet inquired from the front of the car.

"Robin... he's working with Rose."

"And where is he now?"

"Dead, in the boot."

"And Rose?"

"I don't... I don't know. But either way, I can't let her go. I need to stop her. Maybe I'll kill the bitch and then go to France so Vic don't kill me."

"Vic? I wouldn't worry so much about her. No doubt she'll be on your side."

Emie grew tired; the only thing keeping her awake were the bumps in the road. She murmured Joshua's name and he pulled her upwards, hugging her. She felt him kiss her head and then place his cheek against her hair, reassuring her that she was going to be okay. She didn't feel it. She felt cold, numb, and the world was spiraling around her.

#

HE HELD HER TIGHTLY. The only things she was wearing was a red slip and the diamonds around her neck, forever stained with the sins of the night. She wasn't afraid. In fact, she was almost prepared to die.

"You want to turn?"

She nodded, pushing herself away from Joshua's clutches. "I do."

"You sure?"

Another nod, and he sighed, rubbing her cheek. "We'll see how it goes. You have a lot of drugs in you right now, we had to. You could've died, baby." He ran his fingers through her hair. "You might not be thinking straight. I need to go see if there's any word on Rose, get Vic involved, see if Bella knows anything."

"Bella...?"

"She's one of our informants... don't worry."

He stood and left the room. Emie lay back down, the pain in her ribs was immense. She had a fracture on her collarbone, bruising on her ribs, and of course, the wound on her neck. She had several injections from Harriet, who numbed her with several relaxants and pain killers.

She was numb. She was cold. But at least she was safe...

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# 10 A Taste

--------

ALASKA WAS A COLD, cold place. However, it was where the trio had gone in order to find Rose. Josh, in his desperation, refused to let Emie stay at her home, or even at his home, without him. So they'd made the long flight to Alaska where he was certain they would find Rose.

It was near enough night when they'd arrived. Josh had booked them into a cabin, big enough to host several people though they only needed the two rooms. The trio sat at the high wooden table in the warmly lit kitchen staring at their food. None of them wanted to eat. The journey was long and tiring and all that Emie wanted to do, was sleep. Her body was weak and cold, Joshua had a stern look on his face, and Clayton looked ahead blankly, staring into nothingness.

There were many possibilities with them being there. The first, that Rose simply wasn't there. Though that would be a let down, it was most likely the best outcome of the whole thing. Second, they were all in danger. Rose knew how to work fast and it seemed that she could have someone killed at the click of her fingers. The idea that Rose already knew where the three were... it was startling. The third possibility, and the one everyone was pining for, was that they could easily find Rose in Alaska, and take her out. Messy or not, family or otherwise, Joshua was adamant he wanted rid of her. Emie could see, however, that it made him sad. He was worried. Concerned. Rose was his sister, and maybe at one point they had been best friends. They'd quite literally lived and died together, and spent the majority of their afterlife with one another. It would simply be impossible that they hadn't been close.

During the brief time they'd already been there, Joshua had made several phone calls. Most of them were hushed, and Emie wouldn't hear. Though she knew he'd been in contact with a woman named Bella, who had tracked Rose. According to Bella, Rose was staying in a small bread and breakfast, and had been hiding out for a while after her attempt on Emie's life failed.

"Em," Joshua said, placing a hand on her shoulder. They walked through the hallway and then into the room he'd thrown his luggage in. They both sat on the bed, and he wrapped both of his arms around her tightly, and tried to reassure her. He was cool, but not as cold as the room around her. When he let her go, she saw his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curved downward into a frown. "I know things are weird. I know we've dumped so much stuff on you. I know you're scared."

"I'm not scared." It was a lie.

"I can tell you are, Em, we've been friends for such a long time, now, you can't just lie to me like that. I know you're scared. I want to let you know that I understand. You know... back when I was turned... it was horrible. I was first, before Rose. I was in so much pain, and I thought I was dead. They'd left me, Emie. My father left me to die. Mother died several years previously, but it... it was terrible. I always knew the other members in our family were different but I didn't know why or how, or even if they were. I was scared, too. And then they tried to explain it all to me, after I finally found my way out of that goddamn forest... I didn't believe it. I thought I was simply dead, or sick, but I didn't believe anything they were trying to say to me."

"But you knew it was real, you were going through it."

"It isn't like that. I was in pain, and then they were telling me they'd tried to turn me into this... this thing."

"So..."

"So, I didn't believe it. I would understand if, even after everything you've seen and heard and been told about, that you honestly don't believe any of this. I didn't."

She sighed, playing with her hands. "I... don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe you. But. But! I've seen an awful lot, Josh. I've seen people die. I've been kidnapped. I've seen cuts and wounds heal within minutes, I've seen people be beaten up and be perfectly fine within an hour. And I've met people who defy science. You... your sister... everyone. I've seen enough. And I'm trying to process it, Josh." She tried to get her words out, but it was terribly hard. "I've been reading about some of the stuff Clayton told me, about religion, and how people gave you names to try and make sense of angels and grigori... I... think I am finally understanding, now, but that doesn't mean that I want to understand, not at all. It isn't scary, knowing. It's scary, that there's so much I don't know. So, so much that I'm struggling to learn about because God knows Google doesn't have any answers."

He chuckled. The idea that she could find the answers through Google seemingly amused him. "No, but you know I'm here to help. I don't know everything but... given how much my uncle held sway over the courts... I do know more than some other people."

"Josh?"

"Yes?"

"Would you turn me? If things got bad? Would you do it?"

"I..." he paused and looked at the floor, and sighed. "It isn't that easy. We'd have to kill, to make you a killer. Why would you want this?"

"I don't, but with how things are going, I don't know if I'm gonna make it."

"Why say that? We're fighting hard to make sure Rose is gone, and everyone else is dead or escaped to somewhere else. All of this is for you."

She thought a little over what he said, and there was truth to it, everyone was trying to make sure Rose was dead. It would be the jewel in he crown of rebellion if she died. Not becaise of any specific reason, but it would show that even the fallen go against one another, ergo, they can't be trusted. There would be endless fighting between the two, worse than it already was. Emie stared out of the window, watching the trees shake gently in the wind. Snow covered most of the svene, and though it was still fairly light, it was definitely time for her to think about having a shower, and then falling into a bed somewhere. She hurt, she ached, everything was taking its toll on her. Though she'd tried to maintain some form of self-care, it evidently wasn't working. External factors, such as the people trying to kill her, were making her life hard. The bone fractures, the bruises, the cuts and wounds and gashes and burns... she was constantly in agony, for some reason or the other. Joshua had done his best to help her, going as far as offering to turn her when she genuinely believed she was going to die. Though nobody wanted her to turn, sometimes she felt it would be a good idea. With the certain doom she faced, and the insurmountable pain she'd been put through, she didn't mind the idea of being turned, not too much.

Joshua stood up, and Emie's eyes followed him. The cold of the state was getting to him, it would seem. Even he was ice cold, and feeling it. He took several steps towards the door, before turning and then dimming the lights a little, and putting the heater on.

"You're probably freezing. This should get you warm, but I'll go run you a bath, I know you mentioned that you wanted one."

"Thank you," she replied sheepishly. He left the room and returned a few moments later with some thick towels and one of the duffel bags he'd left outside of the bedroom. It was a brown and cream one, that he'd put a lot of Emie's stuff in. He placed the items beside her, smiling.

"We're gonna make you better, Em, and I know we're not here for fun... but we may as well make it as good as we can." He opened the duffel bag, and then pulled out a beautiful gold bottle of champagne. "Clayton is in the lounge, he said he's going to try and make sure we know where she is for when we go out tonight, I just want to spend some time with you."

"Why? Because you think you're going to get killed? Or maybe you think I'm going to get killed? This is a bad idea, Josh..."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and laughed. "It is a bad idea. But I have to do this, and no I don't think either of us are going to die, but unfortunately... that is a possibility. And I'd like to make sure I spend some time with you before I go out to kill my own sister. I know she's a bad, bad person, Em... but I love her. I grew up with her, she was there for me when I turned and I was there for her when she turned. When mama died... we were so close. I don't know what happened to her, she simply... lost her way, I suppose."

"Why does she want me to die, Josh?"

"I..." he took his hand away and laughed. "I honestly don't know." Gently placing the champagne onto the bedside table, he swiftly moved from room to room, running the bathtub for her and lighting some candles. It was nothing special, it was nothing beautiful or wonderful, but it was certainly something kind and sweet. Compared to what he'd done for her on prom night, it was nothing... but prom night ended terribly. The world changed in a day -- the feeling of safety and being secure was gone, and she had been lost in a sea of even more questions. The bitter rivalry between Emie and Rose had simply spiraled out of control, and even though Rose didn't particularly like Emie, and never had done, it was something certainly out of character.

"Hey Josh?" He called out from the other room in response. "Thank you for all of this, I know you're risking a lot for me."

"This isn't just about you... Rose is trying to do something that she shouldn't be doing." He came back into the room. "She knows this game and she knows that what she is attempting could send us into catastrophe."

"I see," she said, standing up. "I need a drink. I..."

There were terrible thoughts going through her head. The idea that one of them, or both of them, could be dead by the end of the night scared her more than anything else did. And the chance that maybe Joshua would successfully kill his own sister in the defense of her... that startled her. Everything was getting to be all too real, and she needed a drink. A stiff one. Something straight. Rum? Vodka? Absinthe? Anything. She just wanted anything. Joshua walked her into the living room, where Clayton was. He seemed to be asleep on the sofa, with two bottles of beer in front of him. Josh fetched her a glass, and then grabbed a travel-size bottle of vodka from under the counter.

"I saw him put this here earlier. He doesn't need it, so drink up, girly."

Emie carefully removed the red sealed cap of the vodka and poured a little into the glass. She took it in one, recoiling at the horrid feeling of burn going down her throat. She took two more, and Josh helped her into the bedroom again, carrying the bottle of vodka for her. Emie wasn't good with alcohol, but she enjoyed getting drunk, blacking out was not so fun, but it seemed that every single time she decided to drink, she got black out drunk. She sat on the bed and Joshua helped to get her out of her clothes, and then walked her into the bathroom where the tub was completely filled with bubbles and hot water. She gently stepped in and then sat down. Joshua smiled when she did, and then he brought the bottle of vodka into her.

"Don't get too drunk, I'll be in the bedroom."

She sank a little deeper into the water and thought of everything that had happened to her in recent times. She'd nearly been killed, multiple times. And, on top of all of that, she'd started a relationship that she'd wanted for a long time... but the cost of it was her life, or so it could be. There was simply nothing good that had happened to her, but, at least she had Joshua to try and soften the blow.

As she lay in the warm water and fluffy bubbles, she thought about Josh. She thought about Rose. She thought about her mother. Her mother was still not even aware of anything. She'd known that Joshua and Emie were a thing, but that was the extent of it. Emie feared that if she told her anything else, she'd simply say she was crazy. She wished she was crazy. Wished that everything was just her mind... but it wasn't, was it?

The thought that perhaps she was going to meet her death in a strange place was one that had occurred to her several times. And though she was ready to accept it, she wasn't ready to die. There was so much more in life she wanted to do. Travel the world. Learn to drive. Fly first class. Have the perfect date. If she were to die, would that happen? If she were to turn, would that happen?

She called Joshua back in, to ask him some questions. He walked in, smelling of champagne. There was a large grin on his face, and streaks of liquid down the top of his tee, which was obviously just spillage from the alcohol he'd been drinking.

"Yes?"

"Turn me."

He was slightly taken aback by the request, and sat down on the side, a glass in one of his hands.

"What? Why?"

"Well... I'd like to know mooooore. But, would you?" Her words were slurred together. It was obvious that the vodka was starting to get to her. "I mean, would you turn me?"

He smiled. "It isn't that simple, you know it isn't. I don't know why it's called turning... makes nooooooo sense to me." His words, too, were slightly slurred, however, not to the extent that Emie's were.

"Well, would ya?"

"I guess I would, if the time was right and we had need of it.... I mean... I... I mean..." He stood up and walked to her.

He gently touched her face, and smiled. "Why, exactly, would you want to give up living... I don't understand."

"Well, why did you?"

"I didn't choose to, we all had to, it was how we survived, Em... I would never have chose this."

"It's like the mooovies, like vampires, right?"

"No, it's nothing like that."

She chuckled and then sat further upright to see him better. "Well, mister, it sounds like that. Anyway, I'm done, ehhh, carry me."

"Ew, you're wet! I don't want to get all these clothes soaked, I hardly brought a load with me, anyway."

She held two arms out to him, pouting. He finally agreed, and picked her up out of the bath carefully, and she wrapped her legs and arms around him, much like a koala hugs onto a tree.

They made their way into the bedroom and he placed her down onto the bed, and then got her a fluffy white towel.

"You need to get dry. It is so cold, here. You'll get pneumonia or something."

The room was much warmer than it had been previously, thanks to the heater that he'd turned on.

She gently patted at her arms and shoulders, and then her legs, trying to dry herself. There was a lot of alcohol in her system, however, and she found it was a terribly trying task. She threw the towel to the floor, giving up on it, and then grabbed the matching, fluffy white robe, and put it over her shoulder, not wearing it properly.

"I finished!" She exclaimed, not dissimilar to the way a proud child claims they'd completed some major task. Josh approached her and smiled. "Nooooow, where is my vodka?"

He went into the bathroom for her, getting the clear bottle, and then gave it back to her. She opened it and started sipping it at, not even bothering to flinch at the pain of it going down her throat. He stood in front of her and took off his tee, which had been made wet by Emie. As she watched, she noticed there were several scratches down him that looked too deep to just be surface scratches. When she looked closer, she realized they were fresh scars. She'd never seen his perfect flesh marred by scars before, and it was concerning, after all, she'd been told that when they got older, their systems started to slow down, and they could eventually die.

"What's wrong," he asked, placing a finger and a thumb on her chin and making her look up at him.

"You have scars, now."

"Yeah, I know." He let go and then walked away from her, taking off his somewhat-wet jeans and then putting on a robe he'd brought with him--a long black silk yukata-type gown.

The room was totally silent except for the noise from the living room television creeping into the bedroom, but it was minor. Emie lay back, sighing.

"What's wrong, Em?"

"I dunno, am drunk."

"Yeah... I guess I can tell."

He sat beside her, laughing. "You get drunk far too easily," he remarked. It was true, she did get drunk very easily. There was no denying it. However, she didn't mind being a lightweight. It usually served to her advantage.

Emie crawled up to the top of the bed and then thrust herself underneath the bed sheets, snuggling up to them. It was warm under the thick cotton duvet, and Joshua made his way to her, lying beside her. He flicked the switch next to him and turned the lights completely off, and then took the robe off. He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied, giggling a little, forgetting the pain in her ribs and collarbone entirely.

"You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow... Harry is coming, you know Harry... she's going to look after you while I'm gone out looking for Rose." Emie nodded in tired agreement. "You'll be fine, I promise. I just need to sort this, who knows what might happen if I don't... you know the risks."

"I know..."

He kissed the top of her head again, smiling. "I'm sorry for whatever happens from here." She knew the risks. She knew he might never return.

#

IT HAD BEEN TWO DAYS. Emie sat in the cabin, alone. Joshua and Clayton were gone before she could even wake up, two whole days ago. Harry hadn't arrived. She was alone with nothing but her thoughts. It was cold. She was hungover. The sky was a dull grey, and several foxes had walked past, hardly staying more than a few seconds to sniff at the walls.

Her legs were folded into her chest, and she was afraid to move. Afraid to do anything other than sit in silence in those walls. She'd spent a lot of time in the bath, and in the bed. She had nothing else to do, and it hurt her not knowing what was happening. Even with the terrible cell phone signal, she had been able to try and call him several times. The first few times, his cell was turned off. The other times, it rang, but he didn't answer. The fact he turned it on indicated to her that he was safe, or at least as safe as he could be.

Her eyes stared blankly into space and she was terribly worried. She'd been alone with the dark thoughts for a while, and she was very close to calling her mother, attempting to get help, and get home. If she told her mother everything that had happened, there was a chance that she wouldn't believe her, a chance she'd think she was crazy, or the chance that maybe she wouldn't allow Emie to stay on her own anymore... which meant traveling with her mother... which is no something that she wanted to do. At all. Emie decided that she just needed to have a drink, and then she would go to bed. She would probably read a good book, or maybe she would do some writing, or drawing, or something, anything to try and take her mind off of the situation. There had been moments when she wanted to know why Harry hadn't shown. Perhaps she simply didn't want to. Or, perhaps, she had gone to try and assist Josh. Whatever the answer was, she wasn't pleased with it. She needed someone there to keep her sane, to make sure she wasn't having a break down or something. After all, a lot of crazy shit had happened to her, and she wasn't about to die just because an old woman decided not to turn up. That was just not going to happen.

Emie poured herself a whiskey and then made her way into the bedroom again. She didn't even like whiskey, but it was strong. It could take her mind off of it. And she'd tried everything to take her mind off of it, including yoga, trying to do some form of exercise, and an attempt at cleaning, even though the cabin was already in perfect condition.

She flailed down onto the soft bed, thinking about what could've happened. She was cold and weak and just wanted Josh to come back. She'd eaten little bits that was there, but she didn't know how long they were going to be. It scared her.

She closed her eyes and gently placed the whiskey on the bedside table. She was wearing a large sweater and some leggings, and was terribly cold. She wrapped herself up in the kingsize blankets, shutting her eyes tightly and trying to sleep.

Her mind began to drift, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Josh...?"

She was too tired to open her eyes, in a sort of half-asleep state. He sat down next to her and gently placed a hand on her neck. She opened her eyes, concerned at the fact his fingers were slowly tightening around her jugular.

"Josh...?" She tried to turn, but found herself pinned down.

"Josh is gone."

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# ABOUT THE AUTHOR & Other Books

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Kristin James is an art student and graphic designer from the United Kingdom. A creative individual, she is a conceptual artist and jack-of-all-trades, learning new skills and trades as she goes through life.

Currently, Kristin has published four novellas. This one, the sequel (Inquisition), Origin of Inspiration, and Devil's Cleave. 
