

Pinehurst

A novel by

Nicole Grane

## Pinehurst

By: Nicole Grane

Copyright 2012 Nicole Grane

Cover art Copyright 2012 Chris Grane

Clip art design Ashley Grane

Smashwords Edition

Redwood House Books

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given way to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission by the author.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author's imagination, and are not to be construed as real.

Learn more about the author at:

http://www.nicolegrane.com

# DEDICATION

d

To my wonderful children: Ashley, Joey, and Phoebe. Thank you for allowing me the time to write this story. I know it has not been easy. A selfless child is the child of an author, sharing your "mom time" so that others may enjoy her imaginings. You are precious and I love you all so very much.

# ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, I would like to thank my talented husband, Chris, for once again creating another spectacular book cover. The skill that goes into such a masterpiece is truly mind-boggling—especially when his first attempt was a go!

My sister: Nicia Rotermund, the brilliant IT Tech that manages my website. She has also taken on the brutal task of proof reading and formatting for me. I love her and I couldn't do this without her!

My friend and fellow author: Roseanne Evans Wilkins, for proofreading my final draft, helping me to format it for the e-readers, and being the "fountain of information" I need when trouble-shooting. Your friendship and guidance has been a blessing . . . I only hope I'm returning the favor!

My Lucky Eight: Ashley Grane, Gina Rotermund, Rachel Perry, Eleanor Rodriguez, Caren Coonrod, Kim Talty, Becki Schirmacher, and Emilio Jaramillo. Once more you guys have come through for me! You're the first ones to read my manuscripts, and the first ones to cheer me on. I appreciate the time you take and the feedback you give. I'll cherish you always!

My Critique group: Laura Bastain, Scott Bryan, Gary Rogers, and Melanie Skelton, for picking apart this story and making it better! Your feedback is invaluable, and your support—priceless!

Maren Petersen: Editing and still smiling! I truly appreciate all that you have done to make me a better writer. I will never be able to express how much you have helped me. Thank you!

# Chapter 1

"Please be seated, Miss Hollyander."

A stuffy woman, probably in her late seventies, sat behind a desk in what was, in my opinion, a highly over-decorated torture chamber. It took all of two seconds to assess the room: The royal blue carpet, the mahogany desk, and the American flag— it looked like the Oval Office! Except for the large vulture in the corner—I eyed it with caution as it bobbed its head up and down, probably sizing me up for its next meal. I wrinkled my nose at the lingering smell of death—the beast reeked of it.

Ms. Leech? I had to double-check the nameplate on the door. She hadn't bothered to look up until now. I was still standing in her doorway.

"You may sit there, Miss Hollyander." She pointed to a chair that sat in the middle of the room, strategically positioned directly in front of her desk. I assumed this was her way of intimidating the students—whatever.

I flopped down in the chair, arms crossed, and my trademark pout affixed to my face. I so did not want to be here. This was supposed to be a "fresh start" for me. I'd spent the last eight years of my life moving from school to school, making friends, only to be forced to leave after just getting attached. It was totally unfair. Apparently, it was the price I had to pay for my "unconscionable behavior." My dad was big on adjectives.

The last eight months had been the happiest I'd spent anywhere. We'd lived in San Diego, California. Sun, shopping, beaches, and best of all, guys—lots and lots of cute guys . . . older guys that looked probably eighteen or nineteen years old. I was only sixteen, not old enough for any of them to take me seriously . . . but still, a girl can hope.

"Miss Hollyander," Ms. Leech invaded my musings. "It would appear I have the unfortunate responsibility of guiding your . . . well, let's just say non-existent magical abilities to a satisfactory level in which you may graduate this fine institution."

Why would she think my magical abilities were "non-existent?" They weren't "non-existent!" As for this place being an institution . . . she had that right. The walls around the perimeter were at least twenty feet tall and made of iron. A startling detail I noted upon arrival. I slumped further into my chair.

"I can assure you, Miss Hollyander, Pinehurst will not tolerate the sort of behavior you've exhibited in the past. I've reviewed your records from countless schools . . ." The old bat frowned, looking down her long nose. "Honestly, what was your father thinking letting you attend public schools?" Her lips puckered as she wrinkled her nose like she'd just tasted something vile.

I'd attended public schools my whole life. I didn't see what the big deal was. My father, George, traveled a lot for business, and while he would have liked to leave me in the charge of a governess, I'd long since worn out my welcome with each agency—not to mention I was a little too old for a governess. My so-called "hot temper" and "ill-mannered practical jokes" preceded me. No one wanted to put up with my crap no matter how much weight and money my father threw around—and believe me, he threw it around.

A loud squawking nearly made me jump from my chair. I clutched my heart as the large black bird flapped its gigantic wings overhead and landed next to Ms. Leech.

"Quit fidgeting, Miss Hollyander; you're upsetting Herman." She stroked the monstrous bird's chest gently with the back of her finger.

"I'm upsetting Herman?" She had to be kidding me! The bone picker was probably trying to give me an untimely heart attack so he could have me for dinner. Honestly, who the heck kept a vulture as a pet?

"It would seem that your manners are in serious need of attention as well." She scowled. "Your old school may have allowed . . ."

My old school; I already missed my old school. I'd been yanked out yet again for reasons unknown. And with what I knew to have been considerable teeth pulling, George had managed to stick me here, where I'd undoubtedly stay until I graduated: A stuffy private school for the world's elite.

"Your future at Pinehurst, Miss Hollyander," the old hag ragged on, "will depend not only on your academic achievements, but also on good behavior, which I'm inclined to think will be your downfall."

I rolled my eyes, making a mental note to chew out George later. What was he thinking sending me here? Did he honestly believe I was going to fit in?

Pinehurst was home to nearly eleven hundred students, ranging from K-12th grades. This was not a human school; this was a school for the Mageia, the children of magic. Only the best of the best were allowed here, kids that have attended Mageian schools their whole life—so how the hell did I get in?

"The only reason I so graciously agreed to accept your application, Miss Hollyander, is due to the impeccable reputation your family has held in our community."

Code for my dad's a shady politician with more money than the Queen of England. He bought the old bat off, probably promising a large financial donation.

Pinehurst was the only Mageian school in the U.S; well, except for Hoffmyer, located somewhere in Georgia. It wasn't really noteworthy. It housed the "trouble makers" or "less fortunate" Mageia who couldn't afford the prestigious cost of Pinehurst—lucky me.

Pinehurst turned out only the finest magic wielders. We weren't technically witches and warlocks; humans gave that stereotype to us centuries ago. We didn't ride brooms or make potions over a boiling cauldron. But we could cast spells and manipulate the elements . . . something I was rather good at.

There was no way I was going to sit here and let this old witch criticize me any longer. Who the heck did she think she was anyway? "My magical abilities are not non-existent," I growled. Yeah, I knew I was slightly behind in the conversation, but her intentional slam still smarted.

"Yes, I see . . ." She perused a rather large file. Undoubtedly, it was a collection of all my school files combined. Great!

"Exploding toilets, broken sprinklers, faulty . . . fire alarms?" She raised her eyebrows. "One might think you were aspiring to be a plumber, Miss Hollyander."

I'd gotten into plenty of trouble at my last school using magic, though they couldn't technically confirm I was to blame. That was the beauty of it. The modern world wouldn't allow magic to be the explanation for any catastrophe. "Hey, they can't prove any of that!"

"Miss Hollyander!" Ms. Leech interrupted me, clearing her throat. "It is of this office's opinion that you are a trouble maker. You will be under the strictest of supervision. Put a toe out of line, and I will find out about it. The consequences will be severe."

I sunk even further into my chair. My dad was so going to get an ear full.

"It is painfully obvious that you are in need of firm discipline." She nearly spat the words. Herman squawked as if in agreement. "Your father has put you in my charge, and I will not shirk my duty. I've cracked harder nuts than you, Miss Hollyander, and I always win!"

There was something unsettling about the way she said that. I rolled my eyes. I'd be out of here before sundown. "So, can I go now?" I could only endure so much nagging.

"Not quite," she snapped. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Roberta, would you bring in Miss Hollyander's information." She put the phone down and resumed her scowl. Her fingers loudly drummed on her desk while she waited. Herman's beady little eyes narrowed as well. I could see why she chose him as a pet . . . there was an uncanny resemblance between them.

I shifted uneasily in my chair. It wasn't as comfortable as it had been when I'd initially sat down. What the heck was taking Roberta so long anyway?

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in Roberta," Ms. Leech said, not taking an eye off me.

Roberta was short and thin; not much younger looking than Ms. Leech. Her bony hand trembled as she handed the folder to the old hag.

"Thank you, Roberta," Ms. Leech's icy tone matched her stare, which incidentally was still on me.

Roberta hurried from the office. I couldn't tell who made her more nervous . . . The old witch or the bone picker? It was a toss-up!

"Here is your class schedule, a map of the campus, and your dorm room information. You will need to check in at the front desk. They'll show you to your room from there. As for your classes, Roberta has been thorough enough to highlight the buildings for you."

I got up and took the papers, eyeing Herman carefully.

"Now you may go Miss Hollyander, and please, try to keep out of trouble. I will be watching."

I picked up my bags and huffed out of the office, closing the door a little harder than I should have. I wasn't about to let her think she'd intimidated me!

# Chapter 2

I stood on the front steps of Administration—building A. "You have got to be kidding me!" I said aloud. How stupid did they think we were? I couldn't believe it. The student dorms were actually mapped as buildings D 1 through 8. I scanned the rest of the map. Yes, there was no question; they had to have thought the entire student body was made up of total morons. Biology—building B. Chemistry—building C, Fundamentals in Magic . . .

The whole campus was organized by the flippin' alphabet! Lucky for me there were also foot signs along the path every fifteen feet or so, pointing out which direction each building was in— just in case I was a total idiot!

I made my way along the sidewalk toward the dorms. According to my paperwork, I was in building D-5, a girls-only dorm for juniors. D-6 housed the boys.

I took in the immaculate grounds along the way. The plush green grass, the trimmed hedges, and numerous flowerbeds with signs posted "keep off" provided a warm feeling that only Ms. Leech could offer. I rolled my eyes as I passed the sign, noting the "designated mingling area for students."

I juggled two bags, one over each shoulder, and pulled one behind me. My dad had seen to it that I had enough clothes to last me well into my senior year—or so he thought! There was no way he was getting out of a shopping trip. Not after ditching me in this dump for the rest of my school existence.

I trundled along wishing Miles were here. Miles was my personal body guard/servant. Okay, he wasn't technically my servant, but he did carry my bags, open my doors, and drive me anywhere I wanted to go. Once I tried to get him to do an essay for me on French Impressionists. He said no but ended up helping me anyway. God, I missed Miles!

George had hired him to look after me during the hours I wasn't in school. Being the daughter of a high-ranking diplomat had its perks. He'd been with me for the past five years. Before that I had Rolf, an uptight German guy who didn't like to shop. Miles was by far an upgrade and younger too. I'd had a slight crush on him even though he was almost twice my age.

I found my way, thanks to the hundred or so signs leading me, to my dorm. I'd just started lifting my luggage up the stairs when a soft voice greeted me from behind.

"Can I help you with that?" I looked back. A girl with long blond ringlets and soft blue eyes greeted me. She smiled brightly. "Hi, I'm Iris."

"I'm Evie." I took her hand and shook it.

"Let me help you." She motioned to the big suitcase I'd been trying to lift up the steps.

"Er, thanks."

"I haven't seen you before. Is today your first day?" Iris was doing her best in heaving the suitcase up the steps. I think it was heavier than she'd thought.

"Yeah," I answered half-heartedly. "Here, let me just magic it up." I couldn't stand watching her struggle; she was worse than I was. I reached out toward the suitcase.

"Are you crazy?" She looked around nervously. "If any of the teachers see you using magic out of class, you'll be in Ms. Leech's office faster than you can say 'remedial discipline.'"

"We can't use magic out of class? You must be joking."

"No. It's the number one rule in fact. 'All magic must be used in the presence of an adult only.' They say it's a safety thing. There were too many underage Mageia using it and not being able to control it properly," Iris explained matter-of-factly.

"Well, what they don't see won't hurt." I reached for the suitcase once again.

"No!" She batted my hand away. "They're very strict about it. Last year, one of the boys set fire to his room. He was doing a Floga charm when his whole room lit up like a bonfire!"

I snorted. "It's not my fault he can't manage a simple fire charm. Why should the rest of us be punished for his stupidity?"

"You can do a Floga charm?" Her eyes widened.

"Of course . . . can't everyone?"

"No, they can't. I can't! We're just learning it."

I stared at her in disbelief. She was just learning to do a Floga Charm? Weird. I'd mastered that at the age of five. I would have thought all the kids here were years ahead of me having attended Mageian schools their whole lives.

"What school did you come from?" Iris asked.

"Huh? Oh, just some school in San Diego. You wouldn't know it." I took up the handle on the suitcase and helped her lug it the rest of the way.

"You don't mean a public school . . . for humans?" Her eyes were so wide I'd thought they might pop out.

"What of it?" I asked defensively. Why did every Mageian get their panties in a bunch every time they found out I went to a public school? I'd spent most of my life growing up around humans. I'd long since dropped my opinion of them being inferior. Naturally, every culture has sub-standard "air wasters" as I liked to refer to them; Mageian's certainly had their share. But I didn't see what the big difference was—magic aside.

"It's okay." Iris interjected, still smiling. "I was just curious. I've never met one, a human that is."

"You've never met a human?" I nearly choked on the words. "What, you've been stuck in this place your whole life?" The look on Iris's face suggested that she had, poor thing. "Don't your parents take you anywhere?"

"Oh yes! They pick me up every break. Sometimes we visit The Islands!" The Islands are an exclusive get-a-way for the Mageia. They were located somewhere in the Caribbean. I say somewhere in the Caribbean because the location cannot be found on any map. It's invisible to humans; like our schools are. I'd been there many times on vacation myself. I'd guilt George as often as I could into taking me. It was a prime spot to host the Volleyball Nationals—an event I rarely missed.

"Here we are." Iris led me through a set of double doors into the dorm common area. It was bursting with life. Tables were scattered about, filled with students pretending to study. A big screen TV in the corner, surrounded by plush couches, held a group of giggling girls enthralled with the Junior Division of Mageian beach volleyball. With all the commotion of being ditched, I'd forgotten there was a match today—I stopped to gawk.

"Ms. Spencer, we have a new girl, Evie . . . I'm sorry, what was your last name?" Iris nudged me on the arm, claiming my attention once more.

"Huh? Oh, Hollyander."

Iris did a double take. "As in George Hollyander?"

"Yeah, he's my dad." I suddenly felt self-conscious. "How do you know my dad?"

"Everyone does dear." Ms. Spencer looked just as all women did at the mention of my father's name—flushed. "Well Evelyn—"

"Evie," I corrected her. "It's Evie." I was still thrown by Iris's reaction.

"Yes of course. Forgive me, Evie. I'm the dorm matron." She smiled warmly. "I'm going to put you in room 204. That's next to Iris," she smiled excitedly, obviously hoping that I'd made a new friend. Don't get me wrong, I liked having friends, but I wasn't sure I wanted to be best buds with Iris here. She was nice enough, but there was something about her that screamed sweet. I wasn't exactly wicked myself, but sweet I was not.

"Wonderful!" I tried to sound as enthusiastic as Iris looked. For all I knew, I was her only friend in this place, and being that I was the new kid, I figured . . . why not?

"Come on, I'll get you settled." Iris was more than excited that we were going to be "practically roommates."

I followed her to an elevator, thanking the architect we wouldn't have to lug my bag up another flight of stairs to the second floor; my room was only a few doors down the hall. I put the key in the lock and opened the door to reveal a pale blue room. There was a large window that overlooked the gardens I'd just walked through. The room was simple. A twin bed, a desk that held an ornate reading lamp and an armchair that looked comfortable. Part of me wanted to collapse in it then and there. But something more pressing had to be addressed.

"No bathroom!" I searched the doors. Closet—yes, bathroom—no!

"Oh, the bathroom's just down the hall," Iris offered quickly.

"We share a bathroom?" The very idea was appalling, and it had nothing to do with the overwhelming amount of girls I was suddenly going to be living with. I could deal with living in a dorm, I guess, but having to share a bathroom was ridiculous, bordering on cruel. I added another item to my grievance list that I was going to take up with my dad ASAP.

Iris laughed. "You only have to share with the girls in our hall, silly. Don't worry; there are several sinks and showers, so the wait isn't long."

"Wait?" The very word was foreign to me. I plopped into the chair, exhausted now. I never had to wait for anything.

"So, what classes do you have?" Iris made herself comfortable on the bed. Apparently she had nothing else to do.

I handed her my class schedule.

"Oh good, we've got Shielding together, and third period Biology with Mr. Mayer!"

"Shielding?"

"You've never done shielding?" Now she looked appalled. "It's self-defense."

I looked at her blankly.

"You've never taken a self-defense class?" She leaned in closer.

"Why should I? I can hold my own." Actually, I was pretty good at holding my own. When I was fourteen, Miles taught me how to throw a punch, "just in case I'm not there," he'd joke. My natural knack at delivering a wicked blow earned me several detentions for giving a black eye to more than one overly presumptuous male at my previous school. In doing so, I'd become somewhat of a novelty. The girls hated me because of all the attention the male species gave me—no doubt due to my good looks and charm—as if. And the boys wanted to see who could get past the first punch and score.

The question was: why were they teaching self-defense in high school?

"But aren't you afraid of the Daimonas?"

"The what?" My answer was a bit surlier than I intended. What the heck was this girl talking about?

"You mean to tell me that you don't know what the Daimonas are?" Iris asked. She reached over, took my hand, and pulled me to the bed to sit beside her. Her expression was grave. "Evie. How can you not know about them? Everyone does!"

"Well apparently not everyone," I corrected. My dad isn't the fairy tale type. He's more . . . grounded."

"George Hollyander knows better than anyone who the Daimonas are. They aren't a fairy tale, Evie. They're only the deadliest creatures our kind has to fear. Not to mention the humans. Your father must have told you about them."

I stared at her and then gave her my most sympathetic smile. Clearly she was, as my mother would say, "touched in the head."

"Look Iris," I pulled her up gently by the arm and led her to the door. "I really do appreciate your help, but I'm really tired—"

"Evie, I'm serious!" She protested.

"I'm sure you are . . ." I pushed her out the door. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"But Evie—"

"Bye, bye, now." I shut the door and leaned up against it, sighing in relief. "What a nut job."

I went to my purse and pulled out my cell phone. My call was expected—my dad answered on the first ring.

"What the heck were you thinking sending me here?" I thundered, not bothering to say hello. My dad was getting it now; I hardly let him get a word in.

"You can't leave me here! I hate this place, and Ms. Leech wants to eat me alive!"

My father sighed. He was used to my . . . disgruntled attitude. A trait I'd inherited from my mother as he'd said on more than one occasion.

My mother Gwendolyn, a pampered trophy wife, spent most of her days vacationing along the French and Italian Riviera. They stayed married for appearances only. Hollyanders did not get divorced. The scandal of such a thing was, well . . . scandalous.

She had little to do with me—like I cared. She'd done her duty by producing a child for George— "it isn't my fault I had a girl," I'd heard her say before. My mom was not about to ruin her figure with another pregnancy on the off chance she might produce a son to carry on the family name—as if I wanted a sibling.

My dad blabbered on about giving things a chance.

"I did give it a chance," I yelled over him. Why wasn't he listening to me? "I've been here a whole hour!" My voice was getting louder by the second. Usually by the time I'd reached this octave, my dad had caved and given me my way . . . but this time he was holding firm. Since when did he grow a backbone?

I tried a more dramatic approach, something I used often in my younger years. I added a touch of desperation for good measure—sure to make the old man crack.

"Daddy, you can't leave me here. There is a really weird girl in my dorm that is convinced that there are some demons that are trying to kill us. Is this the sort of environment you want your only daughter raised in? These are my formative years after all!"

The phone got deathly quiet. The silence was surprising considering my dad was a man of many words.

"Daddy? Dad?" Nothing. And then he started to speak again—I lost it.

"What do you mean you'll explain when you see me?" My dad was trying to give me the brush off.

"Hello? DAD!" I slammed my phone shut and tossed it across the room.

"He hung up on me!" I growled as I kicked my bed in a pout—thank heavens no one else witnessed my tantrum. This conversation was so not over. I stormed out of my room and strode down the hall looking for Iris. I was not going to wait until George decided to grace me with a visit. I wanted answers, now!

# Chapter 3

Okay. That was not what I'd expected. According to Iris, who may or may not be touched in the head—I'll reserve the right for judgment at a later time; Daimonas have been around as long as the Mageia can remember. They are "dammed souls from Hell that have escaped and must therefore be thrust back into the fiery infernos from whence they came." My mouth popped open.

"Evie, the Mageia were put on this Earth to protect the humans from the Daimonas . . . we're Guardians! We were sent down from the Heavens to destroy all Daimonas on Earth."

"I'm an angel?" I breathed.

Iris grinned. "Not quite. But you are gifted. That's why we're able to do magic, a powerful tool that can help thwart evil."

I thought about that. I wasn't feeling so powerful at the moment. In fact, I've never felt less powerful. I still couldn't believe my dad would have kept this from me.

"So if they were thrown into Hell, then how did they get out?" I asked.

"They're not all out." Iris explained. "And we don't know for sure how they escape. Evil seeps into the world every day, Evie. It's our job to destroy it."

I let that sink in for a minute. "Okay, I'm leaving." I jumped up. I was exercising my right to believe my previous assumption. Iris was more than touched—she was crazy! There was no way Mageians were demon hunters.

"Evie wait! I'm not lying!" she beseeched.

"I believe you believe that Iris, but I—"

"I can prove it!" She grabbed onto my hand, holding it tightly. Her eyes were wide with desperation.

"How?"

"Your father, he's legendary! He's killed more Daimonas than anyone!"

I took my hand back gently. "My father is a government diplomat. The most danger he's subjected to is a paper cut." And my wrath once I get my hands on him. Poor Iris, she'd probably cracked up after being dumped off here and forgotten, a fate that would not befall me.

"Ask anyone!" Iris ran to her door and flung it open. She looked up and down the hall. "Aubree, Gillian, come here."

A thin girl with dark eyes and hair peeked into the room. Iris grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.

"What's going on?" A tall, Barbie-doll type girl followed behind her.

"Aubree, Gillian, this is Evie . . . Evie Hollyander."

Aubree was a little slower than Iris had been but not by much. I actually saw the light click on. Her eyes grew wide. "George Hollyander's daughter?" she gasped.

Gillian, who for now I'll just refer to as Barbie, became flushed all of a sudden.

"Oh my gosh!" Aubree gushed. "Like, your dad is SO my hero. I can only dream of being such a bad-ass."

"You mean, you can only dream of marrying one." "Barbie" tossed herself onto Iris' bed, looking starry-eyed. "It's not like you're ever going to have to actually fight."

"See?" Iris looked smug. "I told you he was a legend!"

What the hell was going on? Was everyone here crazy? "Excuse me." I made a beeline back to my room, found my phone under the chair, and called the only other "credible" person I knew . . . Gwendolyn.

"Hi, Mom." I flung myself into my chair and threw my head back. I listened to the "darling it's been so long . . ." the, "I've been meaning to call you but I can't possibly pull myself away from my obligations . . ." speech for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, Mom, it's fine. That's not why I'm calling. Listen, I'm at Pinehurst—"

I pulled the phone away from my ear as Gwendolyn squealed loudly with excitement. Both my parents had graduated from Pinehurst back in the day. It was one of my mom's favorite topics of conversation. The endless social events and boyfriends that broke up the monotony of her school day were all she spoke about. I'd often wondered why my parents had never sent me here from the beginning. With my "behavior" in question, I would have thought it easier on my dad.

Unfortunately my mom's voice invaded my musings. She was currently gushing about an old boyfriend of hers. Gwendolyn was one of those extremely beautiful, and extremely popular, girls—if only I inherited some of her good looks. I was pretty in my own right, but I had more of my dad's genes. The wavy red hair, the deep blue eyes, the sensitive Irish skin. Luckily, the "powers that be" graced me with her curvy body—a feature that did not go unnoticed to the male eye.

My mom, however, was truly a supermodel. She had luscious, chocolaty brown hair and eyes that were so dark you felt as though you were looking into an abyss. Add to that a perfect figure, and you've got a package women envied and men found irresistible—it was almost embarrassing.

"Yes, I know that's where you and dad met." I sighed, sinking further into my chair. "I've only heard this story a million times."

She had her pick of guys but settled on my dad—if you can call it that. My dad was beyond handsome, captain of the football team, All American Mageian volleyball champion, and senior pick to the Mageian Diplomatic Advisers office—where he interned and eventually earned the position he holds today. He was a stud. Apparently, my mom still thought so by the way she was reminiscing about him. Interesting . . .

"Dad didn't tell you he was sending me here?" I interrupted her trip down memory lane. Honestly, I didn't know why I even asked. George didn't consult Gwendolyn about anything, especially when I was concerned. He felt mom was a little too "free" to be a good role model for me.

"Listen, Mom. I have to ask you something very important about dad." My mom was known to ramble. Usually, if I stayed quiet for a half hour or so, she'd eventually run out of thing to say about herself. I didn't have the patience today.

"Mom, I really don't have much time, I just need to ask you a quick question. Is dad some kind of Mageian Guardian?"

She stopped. It was a first for my mom. I checked my phone to see if we were still connected.

"Mom, are you there?"

Now I was quiet. For some time, I just . . . listened. I listened to the "how did you find out?" And the "oh Evie, there's so much you just don't understand . . . you're so young. We didn't want to worry you about it. Your father has everything under control."

I was awestruck. I sat in my chair and stared at the wall after my mom "let me go." Who were these people? I felt like I didn't know either of my parents. How could they keep something like this from me? And how could my mom act so blasé about it? Well, that wasn't such a shocker—but my dad?

I looked out my window and stared down at the kids heading off to dinner. I was sure they all knew their parents. I'd bet their parents hadn't lied to them their whole lives. I'll bet their fathers weren't legendary Mageian Guardians who destroyed demons from Hell! And if they were, I'd bet they wouldn't keep that from them.

Suddenly, the four walls around me appeared to be closing in. I had to get out of here. I rushed down the stairs and out the door into a crowd of hungry students. I took in a deep, calming breath. I followed along into a large dining hall within Building K that was so cleverly referred to as "The Kitchen." It was packed with students.

"Evie! Over here!"

I looked around. Iris, Aubree, and Barbie were waving at me. I made my way over to them, weaving in and out of traffic. They were already in line and had no qualms about pulling me in with them.

"Hey, are you alright?" Iris looked legitimately concerned.

"I'm fine." I masked the lie with a smile. I was so not fine.

"That has to be totally weird not knowing your dad's a Guardian and all," Aubree commented, dodging Barbie's elbow.

"Aubree! I thought we agreed not to say anything," she growled through her teeth, still maintaining a "Colgate smile."

"It's okay. Really, don't worry about it." I waved them off.

"For sure, you should be more worried about why your dad stuck you here." I could tell Aubree was the loose cannon in this group. She'd say whatever was on her mind. I'd have to remember not to say anything I didn't want thrown back at me.

"Aubree!" Iris was trying to rein her in.

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I wasn't sure I could handle the answer.

"I mean . . ." she spoke like she was stating the obvious, " . . . why wait until now to send you to Pinehurst? Your dad has obviously wanted to keep his identity secret from you. So why send you here, now, where you'd be sure to learn about the Daimonas, about him. It doesn't make any sense.

She was right. I half-heartedly took a tuna sandwich, some chips, and a soda. I followed the girls to a table in the corner and sat down.

Why did my dad send me here, now? I mean, why not just let me finish high school where I was? I'd still be in the dark about him.

"Oh my God, here comes Roland." Barbie's face was all a-glow.

I shifted my attention to the left and fell into suit with the rest of the female population. My mind went completely blank. All I saw was a tall, blond, blue-eyed hunk of man walking my way. Well, maybe man was a stretch, but it wasn't that far off.

"Roland Vandenberg." Two of the sweetest words whispered into my ear. Barbie spoke them slow, letting each syllable roll off her tongue like she was sharing a bite of the tastiest, most delectable dessert ever—yum!

Roland commanded the room. His presence was felt before he even walked past. And as he approached, a smell of what could be none other than extremely expensive cologne hit me. I drank it in.

He stood tall, maybe six feet or so. He walked with an air of confidence that none of the idiots at my old school could have ever pulled off on their best day.

He caught me gawking, and the corners of his mouth turned up into the cutest crooked smile I'd ever seen. There was a large group of guys walking with him, shouting something about the match they'd just won, but my brain wouldn't let me process the details. Roland passed by, giving me a backward glance. I blushed.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Roland Vandenberg just smiled at you!" Barbie was freaking out. "You are sooo lucky!"

"Who is Roland Vandenberg?" I asked, trying not to get too excited myself. I mean, he was totally hot beyond reason but I didn't want to get my hopes up. He didn't seem like the kind of guy that usually looked my way.

"Roland Vandenberg is only a ten on the hot-o-meter." Barbie squealed.

"The what?" I gave Aubree a questioning look.

"The hot-o-meter." She rolled her eyes.

Iris laughed. "Looks, potential, money! To be a ten, you have to have all three. He's a total catch."

Okay, talk about shallow. "What ever happened to inner beauty?" I scoffed.

The three of them laughed like I'd just told the funniest joke they'd ever heard.

I ate my dinner, listening to their conversation half-heartedly. I smiled at all the right parts, nodding where appropriate. My mind was elsewhere. With considerable effort, I'd pushed Roland Vandenberg aside and tried to concentrate on something Aubree had said. Why did my dad send me here?

I walked back to the dorm with the girls and made my excuse of needing a good night's sleep before starting classes tomorrow. They nodded in understanding, and with promises of hanging out at lunch, we said good night.

I flopped down on the bed and mulled over my day.

First, my dad had me dropped off in this stuffy, overpriced school with no warning. He'd subjected me to nearly an hour-long lecture on my "bad behavior and non-magical abilities"—courtesy of an old hag who enjoyed stomping on the emotional well being of her students.

Second, I'd learned that George was not a government diplomat like I'd been told my whole life. He was, apparently, a highly trained and efficient Guardian for the Mageia. A legend they'd said!

Third, and lastly, my mom was taking the predictable, and less emotional position—"don't worry about it," she had said.

I had a feeling I'd need an aspirin soon. And I thought my biggest problem would be that I'd have to listen to more of Ms. Leech's crap insults and threats.

# Chapter 4

I slept hard that night. I didn't even remember dreaming. I'd managed to get up in plenty of time to not have to compete for the shower.

I picked my outfit carefully for my first official day at Pinehurst. I was the new girl on campus; the key was to blend in. This would have been sound advice to anyone. But for me . . . I never blended in. I always stood out! Maybe it was because of my red hair? Maybe it had been my snarky attitude? Or maybe, just maybe, this time, the fact that I'm George Hollyander's daughter will be what sets me apart from the rest.

I put on my skinny jeans and a fitted black tee, thanking the powers that be there wasn't a dress code. I looked at myself in the mirror, debating my shoe selection. "Hmm . . . black heels . . . definitely," I thought aloud.

After slipping on my shoes and grabbing my book bag, I made my way to the door. The hall was bustling. Everyone was rushing around. Only a few, like myself, looked ready for the day. It pays to get up early when you have to share a bathroom with twenty girls. I shuddered, trying to shake away the thought.

I made my way to The Kitchen for breakfast before my first class. I had to admit that I was, for the first time that I could remember, nervous for my first day of school.

I nibbled on a piece of toast while looking over the campus map. My first class was Shielding. "Where the heck is it?" I turned the map around several times. I couldn't find building S. "Piece of—"

"Can I help you find something?"

I looked up. A beautiful blond-haired boy with blue eyes was smiling at me. He ran a hand through his hair that I'd expected was purposely messed up for fashion's sake. His lips were curled up into the same lazy smile I'd seen last night. Roland Vandenberg.

His smile broadened. "Are you lost?" His voice was soft like butter. I found myself melting.

"Huh? Oh, no I'm just trying to find the Shielding class."

"Let me see that." He placed the map on the table in front of me. "Okay, you're here . . ." I guessed he was pointing at the map, but I was too busy staring at his face to notice, " . . . and the gym is over here."

I hadn't realized how close I'd leaned in. Our faces were nearly touching when he looked up, my image reflecting in his eyes. By the expression on his face, I'd taken him by surprise as well. I sat back immediately, already feeling the hot flush on my cheeks. That was the drawback to being fair-skinned; the whole world knew when you were embarrassed. I hurriedly looked to the map. His fingers were still in place, pointing out the two locations.

"Thanks, I think I can find it now."

"Hey Roland, what's up!" A super buff guy, possibly beefed up on steroids, threw himself in the chair beside me with such force that it skidded into mine.

"Hey, Babe!" He threw his arm over my shoulders.

I looked at him incredulously. "You did not just call me babe." I shrugged out from under him.

Steroid guy laughed. "Feisty! It must be the hair."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I hated guys that made fun of my hair.

"Chad, not cool, Bud." Roland laughed with his friend, but behind his eyes, I could see an apology. I studied him for a moment. I didn't care how cute he was. I decided Roland was just like all the other guys I'd met— severely in need of a backbone!

"Thanks for the help." I gathered my things and stormed out—which was not an easy thing to do. My heels did not allow for the dramatic storming out I was aiming for. Note to self: you may want to rethink the shoe selection.

I made my way across campus to the gymnasium. Shielding was in building G—go figure. Apparently not all classes were in their alphabetical buildings. I rolled my eyes at the logic of it all.

Class had already started by the time I'd managed to get there. My shoes clanking across the gym floor made my tardiness all the more noticeable.

The students were standing in what looked like a military formation—arms crossed behind their backs, feet apart. I'd never seen a class of girls so quiet.

The teacher turned to face me. He was dressed in military fatigues. From his camouflage hat to his highly polished boots, this guy screamed discipline. By the expression on his face, I doubted he'd laughed a day in his life. He walked up to me and extended his hand—I handed him my class schedule.

A wide smile spread across his face. "Well I'll be damned!" He laughed, looking up at me. "You're George Hollyander's baby girl."

"Yes, I'm his daughter." I wasn't sure how to read this guy. I certainly didn't want him referring to me as "George Hollyander's baby girl."

This guy looked like he could eat nails for breakfast, and by the way his students hadn't moved, I assumed he was a total hard ass; the type that makes you do fifty pushups for stepping out of line. But here he was, smiling at me like I'd just handed him a check for a million bucks.

"Uh, I think there's been some mistake." I leaned in a little, not wanting the other students to hear. "I don't do first period P.E. I don't like to be sweaty all day." I grimaced at the thought.

His mouth opened slightly. He took a good look at me, taking special note of my shoes. His eyebrows rose. "Are you sure your George's daughter?"

"Yes I'm sure," I answered with mild irritation. What kind of question was that?

He looked over my class schedule once again, a grin replacing the once warm smile that had greeted me. "I'll tell you what little lady. You just head on over to Mr. Roberts's math class. Tell him I'm switching your schedule around. I'll square it with Ms. Leech."

I sighed in relief. Finally! Someone who understands that sweat and a manicured appearance do not go hand-in-hand. "Thank you." I turned and started walking away.

"Oh, and Hollyander!"

I looked back at the teacher, still smiling.

"See the attendant in the locker room before class. I want you dressed and in formation at fifteen hundred hours."

My confusion was noticeable.

He frowned. "That's three o'clock Hollyander." He walked away, shaking his head.

"Well, why didn't you just say three o'clock in the first place?" I mumbled under my breath. I'd just wasted ten seconds of my life trying to figure out what he was talking about.

I spied Iris this time as I turned to leave. I gave her a slight wave before I walked out—she didn't move.

I made it through my first two classes with nothing noteworthy to report. Mr. Roberts was extremely easy going and didn't mind the schedule hiccup, as most teachers would have. I wasn't able to talk to Iris during second period like I wanted. Ms. Spicer had a guest speaker who'd come all the way from Romania. Apparently, the Romanians had developed a highly effective way to cast a levitation spell without the side effects of a headache. Funny, I never had that problem.

It wasn't until third period biology that I learned what the P.E. teacher: Gunnery Sergeant Jaxson had done. According to Iris, who I now regarded as a great authority, sixth period P.E. was for the boys.

"So what, I've had boys in P.E. before," I shrugged.

"No Evie, it's a boys' only class." She raised her eyebrows on the "only."

"No way!" I laughed. "He wouldn't have me in P.E. with just guys . . . there must be some mistake?"

"I don't know Evie . . ." Iris sang. "Gunny doesn't make mistakes. He sort of . . . cleans them up."

"Well there has to be," I stated matter-of-factly. "There is no way he would place me in a boys only class, Iris. No way!"

"Maybe . . . " Iris was twisting her golden hair around her finger nervously.

Mr. Mayer called the class to attention, and with no further thought about Gunny, I focused on the subject at hand—plants with healing powers—something I knew absolutely nothing about.

I met Iris for lunch outside The Kitchen after English. We got our food and sat down beside Aubree and Barbie. I'd just taken a bite of my ham and cheese when three girls, all wearing tight fitting tops and miniskirts, sauntered over.

I didn't need to look at them closely. I'd seen their type before. The one in the middle would be the leader, the other two: her cronies. They would all be "popular" of course. Not necessarily because of who their families were, but usually because of whom they went out with. My guess, one of them, the leader most likely, used to go out with Roland. She was pretty, outwardly. Tall. Thin. Blonde. The kind of girl you wished you looked like but never wanted to be.

I took another bite.

"Stacy, what a surprise." Barbie held a false smile on her face. "I thought you'd still be in the bathroom yakking up breakfast."

I choked.

Aubree and Iris did their best to hold back a snicker. It was obvious by the way they kept their eyes downcast they didn't want any part of this.

Stacy smirked. "I heard you're a little under the weather today yourself Gillian . . . poor thing. Still bloated huh? You really shouldn't wear leggings with your figure. It's just not attractive."

If looks could kill, Barbie would have incinerated Stacy right there on the spot.

"So, you're the new girl?" Her attention shifted toward me.

I looked up at Stacy; doing my best to ignore the haughty look she was giving me. Her manicured nails drummed impatiently on her hips as she waited for my response. "I suppose," I answered before picking up my drink and taking a sip.

Cronies two and three mimicked her, doing their best to look as if this conversation was beneath them. Neither of the girls spoke a word. They were probably brain-dead anyway. Anyone who used as much hairspray as they did had to operate on one brain cell.

"Are you really George Hollyander's daughter?" Stacy said this like there was no way this rumor could possibly be true.

"What's it to you?" I glared back.

Iris and Aubree shifted uneasily in their seats.

"Don't waste your time Stacy. George Hollyander is way too old for you," Barbie taunted.

"Funny," Stacy growled back at her. "As if I'm interested in him. But if I was . . ."

My eyebrows shot up. "If you were, he wouldn't give you the time of day. He doesn't date children. Especially ones that shop at—where do you shop?" Stacy was in serious need of the fashion police. "Is that . . . rayon?"

Barbie laughed. "Better go change your Pampers Stacy, I think you might have wet yourself."

I smiled at Barbie—Gillian. I couldn't help but see her in a new light. Maybe I was wrong about her. She wasn't as superficial as she looked. She was more like me than I'd thought. We both hated stuck-up girls who believed they were better than everybody else. It was only a start but I think Gillian and I were going to get along just fine.

Stacy looked at me as though her fashion sense had never been questioned before. "I just wanted to know if the rumors were true," she snapped. "Humph, it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like you'll be anything like him, popular I mean. As for that hair . . . what a rats nest."

I shoved myself up from the table, knocking my chair back with a loud clatter. Stacy and her ghouls jumped, their eyes wide with shock, as they looked around nervously.

I glanced up and smiled at the sprinkler directly above them—I couldn't resist.

"Ahahhh!" Screams erupted all around me.

I looked over to Iris and Aubree, standing there, dripping wet. They'd been collateral damage. "Sorry," I mouthed.

Iris's mouth popped open—she realized what I'd done but said nothing. The other students scattered like mice—all except for Stacy.

"You witch! You're going to pay for that!"

With what can be none other than impeccable timing, Roland Vandenberg walked up; beautiful and most importantly, dry. Somehow, I'd managed to only set off two sprinklers this time instead of soaking an entire room like I'd done at my last school. Interesting . . .

Roland laughed lightly. "Stacy, you're all wet."

She looked like she'd crawled out from under a rock and got hit by a monsoon. Her hair was beyond droopy, and her make-up, let me rephrase that, her cheap make-up was smeared down her face.

"You think I don't know that, Roland?" she snapped. "She set off the sprinklers!" Stacy was practically screaming, while pointing right at me.

I tried to look angelic.

"Oh come on Stacy. She can't do that kind of magic," Roland argued.

I would have protested but the idea here was to remain innocent. Still, he might have at least considered the possibility that I could do that kind of magic. I mean, was it really that far-fetched?

"She did!" Stacy was shaking her hands out, screaming at Roland who hadn't stopped laughing.

In the midst of all the commotion, I noticed a guy sitting at a far off table in the corner. He was peering over his book, watching us–not that everyone else wasn't watching too—it was comical. But there was something odd about the way he was staring at me. And in that instant, I knew that he knew what I'd done. Crap!

"You jerk!" Stacy brought me back to attention by shoving me—I'd let that one go. After all, I was completely innocent in all of this . . . at least that's the way it needed to look.

"Hey, back off, Stacy." Roland had stepped in front of me, blocking another one of Stacy's attempted blows.

"You're gonna pay for this!" she shouted over his shoulder at me. "Just wait until I tell Ms. Leech!"

The whole cafeteria broke out in laughter at that as Stacy stormed off, her brat squad tagging along behind her, all three dripping wet.

"She won't tell," Roland assured, his expression still bemused. "She's just mad because she has to redo her hair." He gave me a lazy smile and strode back to his table, a little happier looking than before. I guess Gillian and I weren't the only ones who hated stuck-up witches!

"I better get to class," I smiled apologetically at my friends before I hurried off. I didn't want to stick around in case Stacy made good on her threat; or worse—I could be bombarded with questions I wasn't ready to answer!

# Chapter 5

As instructed, I was dressed and on my way to formation at fifteen hundred hours. Upon entering the main gym, I stopped dead in my tracks. The whole "platoon" was staring at me. I felt like I was standing in the middle of the room naked. Iris had been right. Sixth period P.E. was in fact an all male class.

"Sorry," I mouthed, apologetically as I retreated backward. Clearly there was some mistake.

"Hollyander!" shouted a voice from behind me causing me to jump. "Why are you not in formation?"

Was he crazy? Did Gunny think I was actually going to stay in this class? "They're guys!" I shrieked. Yeah, I was stating the obvious, but someone had to.

Light laughter broke out.

"Did I tell any of you girls it was free time?" Gunny's voice boomed like a megaphone over my head. I cringed at the sound of it. "Hollyander! Get your butt in line next to Arnold there." He pointed to a tall gangly looking boy.

"You must be joking." I put my hands on my hips. "I'm not staying in this class."

Gunny leaned over into what was clearly my personal space. "You will move that butt of yours into formation right now or I will move it for you."

My mouth popped open. "How dare you! You can't talk to me like that. Besides, I have a note. My dad says I don't have to do P.E. if I don't want to." I produced the note and placed a smirk on my face. I was home free. There was no way, no way, he could argue with a note from a parent. It was a binding get out of jail free card, and I had an endless supply.

Gunny didn't even look at my note! He paced back and forth in front of me, his expression even. Which made what happened next, completely unexpected. He had me by the back of the neck and face planted onto the mat in record time.

I gasped.

"Now you listen to me. I served six tours with your old man. I've seen him kill nine Daimonas in one raid without even breaking a sweat. He is one of the finest men I know, and I will not have his daughter leave my class at anything less than her full potential. Do you understand me?"

For the first time in my life, I was speechless. I didn't know if I should try to hit him or cry. I decided to pull out the biggest card I had and throw it on the table. "I'm telling my dad!"

Gunny hoisted me up with one swift movement and placed me next to Arnold. "Tell him Wally says hi!" He turned away from me and began inspecting the troops.

I huffed, fighting back tears that threatened to form. What the hell just happened? How dare he touch me like that!

"Psst, Hollyander."

No, no, no . . . I wanted to die. How had I missed him? I turned my head around. Freaking great! Roland Vandenberg was right behind me, smiling.

"Now, Gentlemen. As you may have ascertained, Miss Hollyander will be joining our class. I am aware that this has traditionally been an all male class, but due to special circumstances . . ." What special circumstances? " . . . that will no longer be the case," he continued. "You will treat her with respect and take her in as one of our own. Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

I cringed again. Did everyone have to shout? This has to be a bad dream. There is no way I'm staying here. I'm leaving. I'm going to walk out right now, and if Gunny so much as lays another hand on me, I'm going to kick him right in the—

"Hollyander!"

I jumped again, this time bringing my hand to my heart, trying to still it.

"Do you have cotton in your ears, Girl?"

"Excuse me?" No one had ever spoken to me this way.

"I just asked you a question!" He was shouting in my face again. This was so going to get old. No one is allowed in my personal space—ever!

"What?" I could feel the tension in the air: an unspoken, "he's-going-to-kick-her-butt-again" kind of tension from the others. It was literally tangible.

Gunny folded his arms across his chest. "I asked if you've done any sparring before?"

"What, like fighting?"

The guys laughed. This was probably more fun than they'd had in a long time. Happy to have helped lighten the mood—Jerks! I narrowed my eyes at some of them.

"I've hit a few people," I admitted with a shrug.

I thought I saw a hint of a smile on Gunny's face. He recovered quickly, masking it with attitude. "Vandenberg!" Roland appeared instantly at the front of the class. "You'll be pairing up with Hollyander today."

"Sir?" Roland looked suddenly green.

"Hollyander, you'll play defense. Now, the rest of you—"

"Excuse me, Sir, but I don't think I can—"

"What's the matter with you Vandenberg, afraid some girl is gonna kick your butt?"

The platoon erupted with laughter.

"Sir, no Sir! It's just that . . ." His eyes flickered my way. "I can't hit a girl, Sir. I can't fight her."

Gunny walked around Roland, his hands behind his back as he circled him. There was something intimidating about the way Gunny was staring at him. It was obvious Roland felt it too.

"Hollyander! Do you have a problem with hitting Mr. Vandenberg?"

I bit my lip. "Well that depends . . ." My voice cracked.

"On what Hollyander?" He still didn't look at me, his eyes, heavily boring into Roland.

"On why I'm hitting him, Sir."

Gunny's focus turned sharply to me, a look of confusion settling on his face.

This guy was freaking nuts. If I made it out of here alive, I was so going to chew my dad out royally. How could he and this guy be friends?

"Can you tell me why I transferred you into this class, Miss Hollyander?"

"I assumed to be a jerk." I slapped my hand over my mouth. I couldn't believe that slipped out. I was so dead.

Gunny smiled. An act that was scarier than him screaming in my face.

"Gentlemen. Can you tell Miss Hollyander why you're in this class?"

"To become Slayers, Sir!"

Yes, this was officially a bad dream. Not only was I stuck in a gym class with a bunch of guys who shouted their answers out; I was stuck in a gym class with a bunch of delusional guys and a whacked out Marine who shouted their answers out. It just gets better and better . . .

All eyes were on me. I didn't have to look to feel the weight of their stare. "Okay, I'm going to ask, what the heck is a Slayer?"

A low murmur broke out.

"In my office, Hollyander. The rest of you Ladies: twenty laps around the field; move!"

I watched as the "Ladies" scattered out the door and onto the field. They didn't need to be told twice, and neither did I. I hurried into Gunny's office–the "Semper Fi" sign on the door giving it away.

I stepped into a room that looked as if it had never experienced a woman's touch. I glanced around at the papers littering the walls. Class schedules, announcements, and team photos were secured in random places with cheap plastic pushpins. Not at all the polished appearance one would expect from a Marine!

"Sit down, Evie." A soft voice instructed from behind.

I turned around, not recognizing it had been Gunny speaking to me. He suddenly looked tired, groaning as he took a seat behind a metal desk. His tattered chair, which had to be a hand-me-down, squeaked under his weight. "What do you know about your old man?" he asked.

I sat and thought about his question. Apparently I didn't know my dad at all. I'd spent my whole life thinking he was just some government diplomat . . . a peacemaker. I never dreamed he traveled the world, killing demons—I was still having a hard time wrapping my brain around that one. "Someone told me yesterday that he's a Guardian for the Mageia," I finally answered.

Gunny looked taken aback. "He never told you he was a Slayer?"

"My dad's a Slayer?"

"Best damn one alive!" Gunny reached across his desk and turned a photo frame around for me to see. A younger version of himself; decked out in camo, stared back at me. And there, right beside him, with his arm over his shoulder, stood George Hollyander; the both of them grinning.

I couldn't believe it. I'd never seen my dad this way. As far as I knew, my father didn't own a piece of camouflage anything! HeeHHH was always rushing off to work in his high end suit and leather briefcase–I wasn't even allowed to touch the thing for fear I'd get my fingerprints on it. Again I sat open mouthed. How is it that everyone knew my dad better than I did? And what in the world was a Slayer?

"I've looked over your school reports," Gunny continued. "You've never spent one day in a Mageian school?"

"No Sir." I sounded so weak. Where was my backbone? My usual snarky attitude was apparently still on the mat Gunny had so gently introduced me to—right next to my nerve. I sat quietly, waiting for Gunny to drop another bomb on my head.

"Ms. Leech told me about your situation."

I had a situation? I looked up at him. He'd already had a hand up to silence me.

"For some reason, your old man has chosen to keep you in the dark. It's not for me to question. George has a good reason for everything he does. But one thing is clear . . . he's needed to hide you from our world; including himself in some ways." He put his fingers to his chin, silently pondering.

What the heck was this guy talking about? My dad wasn't hiding me from the Mageia! And why was he discussing me with Ms. Leech?

I'd known about the Mageia, I've done magic all my life for crap sake! My father had done magic around me my whole life. He'd never hidden that, or our world from me. How could he? Magic came naturally to me he'd said. So why had he abandoned me here now? And why didn't he tell me the truth about what he did for a living? I slumped in my chair. None of this made any sense.

"Well whatever the reason," Gunny's voice broke my silent rant; "it's now up to me to make sure you're fit to leave. You will be fit to leave. That is a fact!"

Great, I could just imagine the horrors involved in being what Gunny deemed as "fit to leave."

"I'm not going to apologize for being hard on you," he continued. His words sounded harsh but I could hear softness in his voice now. "This class isn't for the weak, Evie. I'm hard on my students because that's what the real world demands. If I lighten up on them, lives will be lost."

"It's a P.E. class!"

"This is no P.E. class," Gunny snorted. "This is a class for Slayers. Guardians in training—assassins Evie! These kids will be killing Daimonas soon. You will be killing Daimonas soon."

I doubted that: Me killing demons from Hell? Please. And why hadn't anyone bothered to tell me that Slayers were assassins?

"Why did you put me in this class?"

Gunny stared at me for a moment, as if considering his words. "I teach only the most dedicated individuals with the most potential—aside from a few whose parents refuse to accept the fact that their little darlings are wimps. Damn school board and their equal-opportunity mentality," he grumbled under his breath. He gave me a small smile, but there was something more in his expression—pride. "You have the potential Evie, I can see it in your eyes. Hell, you're just like him."

"I'm not a . . . I don't even know what you're talking about?" I pushed to my feet. How could he think I was anything like my dad? I wasn't a demon-killer. Hell, I wore heals nearly twenty-four seven!

"You'll know soon enough," he promised with a smile. "I haven't had to train a girl before . . . but I won't hold that against you," he chuckled. "Who knows, if you manage to make a success of yourself, females might be allowed to battle. And Evie . . . that isn't always a bad thing. Now go on, get out of here."

I turned and walked to the door, my mind spinning. Damn! "Am I supposed to run too?" I asked, not wanting to look at him. My hands had fisted involuntarily at my sides, dreading his answer.

"Do you want to?" I could hear him grinning.

I thought about that. No I didn't want to. I didn't want anything to do with this guy or his class of freaking jarheads. But I couldn't shake this feeling I had. Like maybe my dad did put me here for a reason; and if I went through the motions, as painful as they were, maybe that reason would become clear.

I huffed mentally and turned to face him; the picture of my dad and him, still smiling at me. I would not be intimidated! "Well I'm not going to have the guys think I'm being pampered because my dad's some legend, now am I?" And with that, I felt a small fire light within me.

"Then get your butt out there, Hollyander!" The corners of his mouth turned up.

"Yes, Sir." I wasn't happy about any of this, but I had to try. If my father had taught me one thing, it was Hollyanders don't give up!

* * *

This sucked! Talking with Gunny put me eight laps behind the guys. I hadn't run in like—forever. I'd only made two laps around the field and already I felt like I was going to pass out.

"Hey, Hollyander, you better pick up the pace if you want to keep up. This isn't a girl's sport." Steroid boy, AKA Chad, sped past me—backwards—the creep. I really hated that guy.

I tried to ignore him, and the rest of them. Every one of the guys made a snide comment as they ran circles around me. Some actually ran a circle around me as they passed—jerks!

"Ignore them, they're just feeling insecure because you're the first girl they've had to train with." Roland slowed down, keeping in time with me.

"You mean, there aren't any girl . . . what did you call yourselves? Slayers? Anywhere?"

"No, none." He gave me a small smile. "But you're going to change that aren't you?" He didn't seem bothered that I was there.

"Well, it's not my choice, believe me," I breathed heavily. Talking and running was not going to work.

"Hollyander!" I cringed at the sound of Gunny's voice. That voice was going to be the root of my nightmares.

"Why does he have to shout everything?"

Roland laughed.

"That is the most pathetic sight I've ever seen Hollyander! Go shower and report back here tomorrow at fifteen hundred hours!"

I grimaced. Gunny was going to be a serious thorn in my side. Perhaps Hollyanders should give up.

"That's three o'clock Hollyander!"

I know! I shouted mentally. I'd have rolled my eyes, but that would have taken too much energy.

"See ya." Roland ran on, leaving me to slink off the field.

I practically crawled into the locker room and collapsed on a bench. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, watching a light flicker overhead. I could feel my heart still pounding. There was no way I was going to keep up with these guys. And there was no way I was going to shower here. That's all I needed was to be a peep show for twenty adolescent boys!

I grabbed my book bag and clothes and made my way slowly back to my dorm.

* * *

"Evie! Where have you been?"

I held onto the frame of the elevator and stepped out into my hall. "Hey Iris."

"What happened to your face?" She took my arm and mercifully helped me to my room.

"Sixth period P.E." I collapsed on my bed.

"You stayed!" It wasn't a question. Iris was totally shocked.

"I wasn't going to stay, but Gunny is very . . . persuasive." I had a flashback of being face planted on the floor. I shuddered at the memory of it. I'd have this bruise for days.

"What was it like?" she squealed. Her excitement barely contained.

I didn't even have the strength to lift up my head and look at her. "Exhausting!"

"Are you going back tomorrow?"

"I don't have a choice. Gunny switched my classes around and got permission from Ms. Leech—who obviously hates me and wants me to die a slow and painful death. She's probably planning to feed me to that beast of hers she calls a pet."

Iris snorted.

"Gunny actually wanted me to spar with Roland. Can you believe it?"

"He didn't! I mean Roland wouldn't fight a girl, would he?" This was more than Iris could handle. She was holding my hand now, nearly bouncing on the bed beside me.

"No! Of course not! I don't think any of them will. I'm the only girl in the class, the only girl ever. They don't want me there. I don't want me there."

Iris nodded. "It'll work itself out Evie, don't worry. This has to be just a big misunderstanding."

I knew Iris was trying to comfort me, but honestly, "it will work itself out"—lame! "Misunderstanding"—my ass. The powers that be were enjoying screwing with me.

"Are you coming to dinner?" She stood up, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, I can't afford to be weak," I moaned at the thought of having to move. "I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour. I'll be the one crawling out of the elevator."

Iris gave me a sympathetic look before hurrying out of the room. No doubt on her way to tell Aubree and Gillian the whole sordid story. This would be right up Aubree's alley—juicy, one-of-a kind information.

Could my life possibly suck any more? That was meant to be one of those rhetorical questions you ask the universe when things aren't going your way. And keeping in time with my suck-ass day, the universe has answered me—yes!

I was summoned to Ms. Leech's office in the middle of dinner. Not before noticing the "I need my face slapped off smirk" from Stacy as I walked by. She'd noticed the bruise on my face–thank you Gunny–and had been pointing at me and making quiet jokes about it for the last half hour. I sucked in my cheeks. Was this day ever going to end?

"You may have a seat, Miss Hollyander."

I plopped down in what I'd assumed was going to be my reserved-seating chair.

Herman the vulture squawked loudly from his perch. The little beast eyed me with longing—I knew it!

"It has come to my attention that there was a sprinkler disruption this afternoon in The Kitchen."

"Yes . . ." I answered with extreme caution.

"I'm sure it will come as no surprise that you have been placed as blame for this incident." Ms. Leech's voice was unusually even.

"Me?" I was going to get that blonde headed—

"However," she interrupted my mental rant. "After further inspection, and testimony from eyewitnesses . . ." Eyewitnesses . . . what eyewitnesses? "I find that blame to be completely unfounded."

Wait! What? Had I missed something? This was what the old hag had been waiting for. Why was she passing up on this golden opportunity to hand my head to me on a platter?

"I realize that you could not possibly have that kind of magical control. I mean really, to isolate the water flow to only one area of the room . . . well, it's completely ridiculous. I can't even do that!" She laughed lightly—the sound of it, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand.

I sat there, dumbfounded. Ms. Leech couldn't do that kind of magic? That can't be. Her powers should be limitless. She was much, much older than I was. Some Redwoods weren't even as old as her. In fact, I was even willing to bet that dirt itself—

"I'm aware that Gunnery Sergeant Jaxson has transferred you into sixth period P.E."

"That's no P.E. class," I interjected, switching gears.

"Gunny seems to think you have potential." The word stuck in her throat. As if the concept of potential and me were unfathomable. "I however understand if you're reluctant. Many have died foolishly trying to keep the Daimonas at bay."

Did she just slam me? Foolish . . .? Was Leech some sort of Daimonas supporter? Figured!

"I won't pretend it's going to be easy for you," she blabbed on. "You are the only girl after all."

Did everyone have to keep saying that? I slumped further into my chair. "And why is that?" I asked.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day," she continued ignoring my question. "A female Slayer . . . well, not yet anyway." A look of . . . was that . . . relief . . . crossed her face.

"I realize you're very young, but with training and perseverance, I have no doubt you'll soar to great heights. Or perhaps depths, is the proper phrase."

What the heck was this, an after school special? Wasn't it only yesterday she was insulting and threatening me not to put a toe out of line? Now she was insulting me, and masking it with false words of encouragement.

"As I said before, discipline is what's needed with you, Miss Hollyander. I have no doubt you'll get a full dose of it in Gunny's class."

So that's why the old hag's on board with this. She wants Gunny to ride me and break me like a horse.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer. You must be very tired after your first day. I only wanted to put your mind at ease, and assure you that I hold you in no way responsible for the . . . let's just call it a malfunction, shall we?"

She stood up and extended her hand. I stared at it for a moment before my brain registered what to do. I shook it lightly, trying not to cringe at its leathery texture.

"Good luck, Miss Hollyander and remember, we're all very eager to watch your success." The words were as menacing as her tone, making me shiver.

I walked back to my dorm in a daze. "Let's just call it a malfunction?" She knew? She knew and she wasn't going to punish me?

She'd been less than enthused about me becoming a Slayer. I could see that Ms. Leech viewed it as a total waste of time. She'd covered her butt with small words of encouragement—if you could call them that. But overlooking what she knew was a blatant display of magic used against another student? True, no one deserved a good comeuppance like Stacy did. Anyone unfortunate enough to know her would agree on that. But still, I'd definitely broken the rules.

After promising that I'd fill them in first thing in the morning, the girls left me alone. They'd been anxious to hear about my meeting with Ms. Leech. I went to bed that night, swimming in a sea of questions, with no life preserver to bail me out.

# Chapter 6

"And she didn't punish you?" Iris was awestruck.

The four of us sat huddled around the table eating breakfast, talking in hushed tones.

"The day before, she wanted to rip my head off, and last night . . . I don't know. There was something weird about the whole thing. It was like she was trying to subtly say that being a Slayer was . . . futile. She actually said it was foolish. Are you sure she's on our side?" I looked to Iris. "I mean she's not a Daimonas supporter, is she?"

"Of course she's on our side!" Iris looked aghast that I'd even utter such a thought.

"The important thing is you didn't get into trouble." Aubree pointed out the obvious.

True. "But why not? The old bitty hates me." Okay, slight exaggeration, but only slight.

"In times like these, it's better not to question, but to be thankful." Iris patted my hand gently. I was stunned: "Times like these"? Where the hell did she come up with this stuff?

"Well, Ms. Leech was right about one thing." Aubree had our full attention. "If you make it as a Slayer, you'll be the first. You'll open up a whole new world of possibilities for women!"

"She's right," Iris stated. "Women will finally be allowed to fight alongside men; if they wish to that is."

Great, no pressure there! Apparently Mageians hadn't heard of "equal opportunity!"

"How awesome would that be?" Aubree had a far-off look about her. No doubt envisioning herself as some sort of celebrity doted on by countless males.

"Look. I never said I was going to be a Slayer. My experience consists of being face planted onto the floor, having my ass handed to me in front of a whole class of boys, who by the way all hate me being there, and leaving my left lung somewhere on the track field. I'm not even sure why I'm in the class in the first place."

"First days are always hard, Evie, it'll get better," Iris promised. "As for the reason you were chosen . . . isn't it obvious? You're George Hollyander's daughter. If you can't survive . . . none of us girls could!"

Yet another reason to thank my dad for sending me here. I knew Iris meant them as words of encouragement but honestly, if she'd gone through the humiliation I had, being thrown to the floor, and later having circles ran around her, she might not feel so cheery about sticking in there.

"Yeah, first days are great. I wonder if day two has another shiner in store for me?" I touched my cheek gently, wincing a little. I'd tried with considerable effort this morning to cover up the "welcome" I'd received yesterday in P.E. Tried being the operative word.

"Roland Vandenberg is watching you." Gillian muttered excitedly.

I shrugged.

"Are you crazy? He's a—"

"I know. A ten on the hot-o-meter," I grumbled, pulling myself up from the table. "I'll see you guys later okay?" I left the table leaving the girls no doubt thinking there was something seriously wrong with me. I mean, any one of them would go berserk with as much as a backward glance from the blonde babe-magnet. But I had a lot on my mind. I hadn't slept all that much last night. Ms. Leech's sudden change of heart and Gunny's insinuation that my dad had been hiding me for years left little room in my brain for small talk or backward glances from the illustrious Roland Vandenberg.

Why is it, that whenever you don't want to be bothered, people flock to you?

"Hollyander!"

I didn't even stop walking. A group of no less than six guys from P.E. swarmed around me.

"Let me help you with that." Victor, a taller boy, with sandy blonde hair removed my book bag from my shoulder, and swung it over his.

"Thanks, I think?" I viewed him with skepticism. There didn't seem to be an ulterior motive behind the gesture . . . he smiled and walked close beside me.

"So Hollyander, you coming to class today?" Chad flanked my other side, attempting to put his arm around me. I shrugged away, causing some snickers from the others. He shot them a stern look.

"I'll be there." I quickened my pace. This was one octopus that could keep his tentacles to himself!

"Good, we wouldn't want you to give up after only one day." I could hear the false concern in his voice. I rolled my eyes. "But if you did, we'd understand." He baited the hook. "I mean, I'd hate sparring with a bunch of men if I were you. You might get hurt."

I held back a laugh. "I don't think that will be a concern."

"Oh man, Chad, I think you just got slammed." Victor was a little quicker than the rest. He nudged my elbow and winked.

I couldn't help but grin back. Victor was easy on the eyes and he seemed nice too. He and Iris would make a good match. Too bad he hung out with Chad's jerk squad.

"You're not one of the guys," Chad barked in my ear.

"Clearly, although, with the amount of steroids you're pumping in, I don't consider myself the only girl on the team." I eyed his bigger than my B cup chest.

Chad stepped in front of me, stopping me short. He didn't look so friendly anymore.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped. I could see the uneasy expressions of the others in my peripheral.

"Do you think you're going to fit in, Little Girl?"

"Little girl?" I folded my arms, asserting myself in front of him. I was not backing down from this jerk. No way!

"Do you really think I care what you think?" My tone was every bit as surly as his.

Chad moved closer, his massive body pressing slightly up against mine. His eyes narrowed.

I smirked. "Shall I kick you in the nuts now, or later?" True I was half his size but I was fairly certain it would take little effort on my part to hit my mark.

"Chad, come on man, back off." A boy, I think they called him Wyatt, had his hand on Chad's arm, attempting to move him away.

Chad shrugged away from him, his eyes still fixed on mine.

"Chad, this isn't cool," Victor spoke up. All signs of humor were gone. "Leave her alone, man." He stood shoulder to shoulder with me. What the hell were these guys hanging out with this Neanderthal for? Did they really want to be lumped in the same class as him?

"You will never be a Slayer," Chad spat. "You don't have what it takes."

"Gunny seems to think I do." I didn't know where that came from. I'd just been telling the girls that I didn't want to be a Slayer. That it was too hard. Now I was defending the very idea that I could be, just to prove a point to this over-sized ape?

"What's going on here?" An unfamiliar voice spoke from behind the crowd. It was deep and rich with an accent I'd never heard before.

"Antonio." Chad looked away from me for a moment, his expression becoming uneasy.

My eyes followed. A tall boy with dark hair and eyes approached. He looked a few years older than I was. His body was more defined than my classmates here, with the exception of Chad. Although this boy, Antonio, looked to be more physically fit. There was something about the way he carried himself. The others gave him a wide berth as he weaved in between them. I looked closer . . . it was the boy from the dining hall—the one who'd been watching me from behind his book. I'd know those eyes anywhere. They were dreamy . . . dreamy? That so did not sound like me.

Antonio took a look at the close proximity of Chad to me. "You're not planning on hitting a girl are you?" There was an edge to his voice.

Hell yeah! Chad grinned. She needs an ass kicking!

I looked at him incredulously as if he'd shouted that from the rooftops. Yet . . . his lips hadn't moved? I studied his face. Was I going crazy? That was exactly what he'd been planning to do. I was certain of it. I could hear him screaming the words from within. I could see it in his eyes. The little wheels in his brain turned quickly in his head, forming a lie.

"Of course not," Chad scoffed. "I'm just trying to explain to Red here that Slaying is no place for little girls."

"Red!" He did not just call me Red? "I am not a little girl!" My hands were fisted at my sides. It was all I could do to not stomp up and down and scream at him.

Chad scanned the length of me, taking in my powder blue sundress with little red roses on it.

I glared back at him, daring him to call me a little girl once more.

"On second thought, maybe you should come to class. It might be fun rolling around on the mat with you." He winked.

"Enough!" Antonio snapped. His expression was hard. "Leave her alone."

Chad leaned in closer; his warm breath blowing across my ear. "Nice legs!"

Oh . . . that was it. Without warning I put my hands on his shoulders and drew my knee up hard between his legs.

"Oumph." Chad doubled over, his hands gripping onto what I'm sure was most dear to him.

There was an echoed "ohhh" from the crowd. I glimpsed each of them, wincing at the assumed pain.

"Don't ever threaten me again!" I held my hand out to Victor. My book bag was returned promptly. He took a few steps back.

"See you in class. Jerk!" I stormed off, late for math—again!

Mr. Reynolds excused my tardiness. It being only my second day, he was willing to overlook it. Thank God for small favors.

"They'll let anyone in here."

I cringed. No, no, no! Not Stacy. Please not Stacy. I looked up from my notebook and smiled. Stacy had taken the desk beside me. Lovely!

"I heard you're in sixth period P.E." She looked like a cat that'd just cornered a bird. Smug.

I didn't answer. I glanced at the front of the room. Mr. Reynolds was watching us. I resumed my work, praying I wouldn't get detention my first week of school.

Stacy leaned in closer. "You're not one of those . . . tomboys, are you?" She grimaced. "Although, that would be better than if you were one of those girls who just likes playing with all the boys. You know the type, the ones that try to steal everyone's boyfriend."

Yes, I knew the type. That's exactly the kind of girl she thought I was. Witch! I was so not one of those girls. Stacy would be shocked to know that I hadn't even kissed a boy.

"Not that I blame you," she continued. "I mean, rolling around the mat with all those guys." She fanned herself with her notebook, the very thought flushing her. And in that instant, I knew. She was one of those girls!

"I've started a betting pool that—"

"Ahahh!" Stacy shrieked as her desk collapsed to the floor, taking her down with it.

Everyone jumped up to see the commotion, everyone, but me.

"You Witch!"

"Miss Wilcox! You will not use such vulgarity in my classroom!" Mr. Reynolds stood over Stacy, assessing the situation. "What happened here?"

"She broke my desk!"

"Your desk, too?" My tone was condescending. "Yesterday it was the sprinklers."

Soft laughter broke out amongst the class.

"Really, Miss Wilcox. I hardly think it's fair to blame Miss Hollyander for this unfortunate mishap. The screws must have come loose."

Nice choice of words. "See, Stacy? It's just good old-fashioned bad luck." I gave her a sympathetic smile.

Stacy got up from the floor and dusted herself off. She leaned over my desk, her eyes tight with fury. "I don't know how you're doing it, but I will find out. You. Don't. Fool. Me!" she growled the words through clenched teeth.

"That will be quite enough Miss Wilcox. You may take the seat by the window." Mr. Reynolds pointed sharply to the desk in the corner.

"But–"

"Now, Miss Wilcox," Mr. Reynolds ordered, cutting off Stacy's protests. He stooped to pick up the pieces of her desk.

"Humph!" Stacy spun around dramatically and actually stomped off.

I smiled to myself, savoring the sweet taste of victory . . .

Mr. Reynolds called the class back to order and we spent the remainder working in silence.

I was quick to dash out when the bell rang. I didn't need another confrontation with Stacy. The temptation to mess with her was too great. But funnier than that, was her desperate attempt to prove that I'd screwed with her. The whole class had looked at her as if she'd flipped her lid.

I rushed across campus to my next class, Fundamentals in magic. Why the heck did all my classes have to be so flippin' far apart? I was totally out of breath by the time I reached the door—very unattractive.

I slunk into class just as the bell rang, and took the chair beside Iris. Luckily, Ms. Powell was nowhere to be seen.

Iris groaned as she read the overview on the board for today's lesson. "I really stink at fire charms. Why must we keep reviewing them?"

"Hello . . . because you stink at them," I pointed out the obvious.

She gave me a sideways glance. "Why do you look so keyed up?"

"I'm not keyed up," I said defensively. I fidgeted in my chair. I was totally keyed up.

Iris frowned but let it go.

"Mr. Brown, you should not be milling around the room, please take your seat." Ms. Powell had returned with her notebook and a large box.

"Now class, I have a special treat for you." Ms. Powell had an annoying habit of talking to us like we were kindergartners. It was only day two of being subjected to her more than cheery disposition, but already my stomach churned. By the look on the faces around me, I wasn't the only one feeling sick.

Chocolate cupcakes? I thought.

"Chocolate cupcakes!" She pulled one out of the box. "With sprinkles!" The faces around me perked up.

I stared at her momentarily stunned. How did I know she had chocolate cupcakes in that box?

"Today, as I'm sure none of you know—"

"Is your birthday?" I murmured. I looked up from the drawing I'd been doodling. The whole class was staring at me. If I could have stepped out of my body, I'd have stared too. How in the world did I know that? She hadn't said yes, but I'd bet the dress I wore that it was her birthday. I smiled flatly.

"Y . . . yes Miss Hollyander. It is my birthday. How ever did you know?"

"Lucky guess," I offered. "I figured cupcakes and birthdays went hand and hand." Feeling the awkward stares still on me, I added, "that and the birthday card on your desk." Birthday card? How did I know there was a birthday card on her desk? I hadn't even looked at her desk.

Ms. Powell looked over at her desk and giggled. "Oh yes, that probably did give me away." She looked embarrassed. And with that, I was forgotten. She proceeded to explain today's lesson: Lighting a candle.

I sunk back into my chair and watched the rest of the students try to light their candles. What was going on with me?

"I hate this!" Iris snapped. It was the first time I'd actually heard her sound angry. "What's the matter with you? You're not even trying? I thought you said you could do this stuff?"

"What? Oh." I'd been so pre-occupied with how I'd known about Ms. Powell's birthday that I forgot about our assignment. "I waved my hand over the candle and murmured "Floga" under my breath. The candle lit up.

Iris stared in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock.

"Sorry." I shrugged, offering her a small smile. It was the truth. A Floga charm was one of the easiest spells I knew. I'd taken it for granted that everyone could do it. I hated it that Iris had such a hard time of it.

A few chairs down, a boy managed to blow up his cupcake instead of lighting it. Traces of chocolate clung to his hair and face.

"Poor James," Iris said sympathetically.

I rolled my eyes. "That is exactly why we're being punished and not allowed to do magic outside of class, Iris. It's morons like that—"

"Well done, Miss Hollyander!" Ms. Powell stood over me. Low murmurs broke out, as every eye was now on my lit cupcake. I was the only one in the whole class who'd managed the Floga charm. I smiled sheepishly.

"You may leave early today Miss Hollyander. Don't forget to take your cupcake. It's yummy!"

I glanced over at Iris. Her face was flushed. Her hair was slightly messed from running her fingers through it frantically. She had a wild look about her that I hoped never to see again—she still hadn't lit her candle.

"Want some help?" I almost hated myself for asking. I knew she'd refuse.

"No. I'm going to light this candle if it's the last thing I do." Her eyes were transfixed on the wick with determination once more.

I blew out my flame and gave her an encouraging smile before I walked out. If only every class could be so easy.

I had ten minutes before the bell would ring. Ten minutes of quiet. Ten minutes before Iris came crashing through those doors, cursing because her candle wouldn't light.

I sat down under a large willow and examined my cupcake. I moved my hand over the wick—it lit. Magic came so easy to me. It always had. It never occurred to me that others struggled with it. I waved my hand over the candle again, extinguishing its flame.

"That's impressive!"

I looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun. A dark silhouette stood over me. My eyes adjusted to see Antonio smiling.

"May I?" He gestured to the ground beside me.

I shrugged. "It's a free country." Dang he was cute.

"So it is." He sat down beside me, his legs outstretched, one crossing over the other. "Not many kids your age can control a Floga charm like that."

"Kids my age?" Who did this guy think he was? "You're not much older than I am," I said defensively.

Antonio smiled to himself. No doubt recalling a personal joke. Whatever. I expected it was at my expense, although I couldn't prove it. Yet!

"I've got to go." I moved to get up.

Antonio jumped to his feet and extended his hand to me. "May I?"

I hesitated, afraid it might be some trick. After all, he was hanging around with Chad's jerk squad . . . sort of. Yet, there was something about Antonio. Something that told me he wasn't like other boys.

"I won't bite," he promised.

I took his hand, the warmth of it surprising me.

Antonio smiled, as he pulled me to my feet, his eyes locking briefly with mine. They were like pools of swirling chocolate, drawing me in deeper. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Perhaps he was going to tell me that he thought I was devastatingly beautiful . . . or not.

"Excuse me." He let go of my hand, stepping away.

I felt flushed all of a sudden. He was beyond cute. No, cute was reserved for the dweebs in my class. Antonio was no Junior. I wasn't even sure he was a Senior. But one thing I did know, a trivial word like cute would not suffice as an adequate description of him. Now, gorgeous on the other hand . . .

"Are you alright?" I asked. "Your cheeks . . ." Was he blushing? Why?

"I'm fine!" His eyes evaded mine.

Okay? I stooped to get my book bag—he beat me to it.

"Thanks." I took it from him hesitantly. "Here." Without thinking, I handed him the cupcake.

"What's this for?" He took it from my hand, carefully avoiding the icing. His fingers brushed softly against mine, our eyes meeting once again. Beautiful . . .

"What?" My mouth gaped open a little. Did he just say . . . "beautiful?" What's beautiful? I studied him carefully. His mouth hadn't moved . . . and he was still awaiting my answer. "It's your favorite!" I blurted out. I must have looked as stunned as he did. His expression mirrored mine–shocked. How did I know it was his favorite?

"How did you . . .?" His forehead creased with confusion.

I laughed, trying to mask the awkwardness. "It's chocolate. Isn't it every guy's favorite?"

He still held a confused look as he focused on the cupcake in his hand.

The bell rang, thank God, providing me with an excuse to slip away. I threw my bag over my shoulder.

"Evie!" Iris was waving me over.

"I gotta go. Enjoy the cupcake!" I gave him a small smile and ran over to Iris with my best sympathetic look affixed to my face. Somehow I knew that she hadn't been able to light her candle—big surprise there.

# Chapter 7

I listened to Iris rant all the way to Biology . . . and all the way through Biology. In fact, if we hadn't had to part ways for fourth period English, I'm sure she would have complained all the way through that class as well.

As it was, she had no trouble picking up where she'd left off when we met for lunch. With Gillian and Aubree there to hear it for the first time, her anger renewed itself and was in full force.

"I mean, you should have seen Evie. She just waves her hand over the candle and it lights up like the fourth of July! I tried for almost an hour, not even a hint of smoke," she huffed.

"I've just been practicing more than you. You'll get it." I tried to sound blasé about the whole thing. The truth of the matter was, I'd managed the Floga charm the first time I'd attempted it. There was no way I'd admit that to anyone here. No need to rub salt into Iris' wounds.

Just then, James walked by. Gillian and Aubree couldn't help but snicker. He still had cupcake in his hair.

"Poor James . . ." I mimicked Iris's tone from earlier. I had a new sympathy for those less equipped than me.

Aubree leaned in closer, her voice low, like a whisper. "I heard you broke Stacy Wilcox's chair in math. She said you made it fall right out from under her."

"Tell me everything!" Gillian's ears didn't miss a thing. She looked like I'd just given her an all-expense-paid trip to the mall.

"It wasn't as glamorous as all that." I waved them off.

"But you did do it?" Iris was just as intrigued as the rest. "And you didn't tell me?"

My eyes darted around the room. No one was in earshot. Not that it mattered. I really didn't like to brag. Besides, I wasn't sure I was ready to share everything with the trio that had taken me under their wing. The look of hope on their faces however, broke me. They needed this: "The timing couldn't have been better." I leaned in closer. "Right in the middle of her verbal attack, her desk just . . . fell to the floor," I said in mock-disbelief. "Call it a loose screw . . . call it Divine intervention . . ."

"Call it a miracle," Iris added.

The three busted out laughing. I couldn't help but join in. I wasn't able to appreciate it at the time, but the mental picture of Stacy on the floor, screaming at me, was priceless. "I only wished I could have recorded it," I said through the tears. "It would have made a great shot for the yearbook." The four of us howled with laughter.

The lunch bell rang and The Kitchen emptied as quickly as it filled and everyone shuffled off to their next class.

I had fifth period Spells with Gillian, who used the time en route to question me further on the Stacy Incident, as it would later come to be known.

"So how did you do it?" She was still giggling.

"Do what?"

Gillian huffed beside me. "You know . . . break her chair."

I gave her a long look. Out in the halls, this was a dangerous conversation. Someone might overhear.

"Come on Evie . . . we won't tell anyone. Honest."

I studied her closely.

"Evie . . ." She had her hands clasped in front of her, pleading.

"I just . . . made it." I admitted quietly, still hurrying along.

"What do you mean, you just 'made it.'" She put her hands in the air, making little quotations with her fingers.

I pulled her aside, out of the flow of traffic. I looked up and down the hall, surveying our privacy.

"Look. I just looked at her chair and made it collapse. It's the same as with the sprinklers. I just wanted it to happen, and it did." I continued to look around nervously.

"Without a spell?" She gasped. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't always need spells." There was something scary about admitting that out loud. Even I had to acknowledge how strange it was; the look on Gillian's face told me she agreed.

"Remind me to stay on your good side," she half-laughed.

Relieved, I smiled back. Gillian hadn't freaked out like I'd feared.

We hurried into class, just as the final bell rung.

"Good, we're all here!" Ms. Spicer grinned with excitement. Ms. Spicer was a jolly-looking woman, one of those rare people who projected beauty. She had a round face that matched her round body. She was by far the most interesting teacher in this place.

"Today, were going to be learning how to perform a proper Pagoma spell."

There was a collective "Ohhh" of excitement from the class.

"The first to do it will win this!" She held up a bag of red popcorn.

"Her favorite snack," Gillian whispered my way.

"For those of you that don't know, Pagoma is a paralyzing spell," she continued. "When done correctly, you can render anyone or anything, immobile. This is . . ." her tone sharpened, " . . . a defensive spell only."

"Yeah, and it's also required for graduation," Gillian grumbled under her breath.

I sunk into my chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. I'd perfected the Pagoma spell years ago thanks to Miles. He'd secretly been instructing me—my dad had been totally clueless about it. This was a little bit of information I wished to keep to myself, especially now. After the Floga charm, there was no way I wanted Gillian reporting to Iris that the Pagoma spell was just as easy for me. That's all I needed, was to be labeled as the class know-it-all!

"Now, I know this is your first introduction with the Pagoma spell, so don't expect to learn it right away . . ." Ms. Spicer's words drowned out . . .

I remembered it as if it were yesterday. I thought to myself. I was eight. George had hired a stuffy governess to look after me while he was away on business. I'd thought it would be funny to try and freeze her while she was crossing the street. I'd seen my dad do it with things on occasion—it hadn't looked so hard. But I only managed to slow her down, she moved like a snail across the road. It was hilarious! I didn't see what the big deal was—I un-freezed her in plenty of time for her to jump out of the way of the delivery van. I'd been grounded from the toy store a whole week for that little stunt—a bit harsh in my opinion.

" . . . You'll have a year to perfect it," Ms. Spicer went on, drawing me out of my reverie.

Wait! A year! I have to play stupid for a whole year? I whined mentally as I let my headrest on the table.

"Miss Hollyander! Would you join me up front please for a demonstration?"

I gave Gillian an uneasy glance. Why did I have to be the guinea pig? Was it pick on the new girl week? I must have missed the memo.

"Don't worry Miss Hollyander. I promise, it won't hurt a bit," she chuckled.

I made my way to the front of the room. It was only my second day so I hadn't paid much attention to the other students in class. I could see Victor and Roland sitting in the far corner with their heads together—expressions serious. Both were definitely looking at me—jerks! Yeah I was standing at the front of the class but they could still, you know, pretend not to be staring so intently.

I folded my arms in a pout. They're probably talking crap about me right now. I bet Victor's telling Roland all about the Chad incident, making it out to be my fault!

I tried to ignore them, but whatever Victor was saying, Roland didn't look happy about it. His eyes flickered to me again. He actually looked pissed. Why at me? What the hell did I do? I looked away from them, not giving them the satisfaction of making me uncomfortable. Stupid boys! Stupid, stupid boys! Where do they get off—?

"Now, Miss Hollyander, have you heard of the Pagoma spell before?"

There was a snicker from the other corner. Great! My day just went from bad to worse. Stacy was here too. Although, where else would I expect a witch to be but in Spells. How did I miss her yesterday? Oh yeah, she wasn't in class because she'd been the victim of a faulty sprinkler system. I bit my lip, holding back a snicker.

"Yes, I've heard of it," I finally answered.

"Wonderful!" Ms. Spicer was beaming.

"Now, let's keep this simple. Mr. Vandenberg!" her tone became sharp. "Since you seem intent on talking during my lecture, I can only assume that you've already mastered this spell. Will you please join us at the front of the class?"

Roland's cheeks turned pink. He strode up to the front of the room and stood next to me, his eyes meeting mine briefly. A mixture of emotion hung in them. Worry. Fear. Attraction. Whatever. I didn't have time for Roland's head games.

"Now then. Mr. Vandenberg, would you please perform the Pagoma spell on Miss Hollyander here."

"What?" I looked from Miss Spicer to Roland. A sudden wave of panic ran through me. I didn't like the idea of students performing spells on me. Hell, I didn't like the idea of anyone performing spells on me, even if it was under the supervision of an adult. It made me uneasy. I could end up with a pig's nose, or a goat's tale! Iris told me once that a boy put a goat's beard on a girl by mistake. It took a whole day to figure out how to reverse it.

"What shall I do?" Roland asked.

I gave him a sideways glance. That didn't sound good. He'd better know what he was doing. If I ended up with a goat's beard, Roland wasn't going to look any better once I got through with him—and I wouldn't be using magic to do it!

"Miss Hollyander, would you be so kind as to walk across the room toward the door. Mr. Vandenberg, I want you to stop Evie before she reaches it. The Pagoma spell," Ms. Spicer was addressing the entire class now, "when done correctly, should prevent your enemy from advancing; or retreating as the case may be."

The instructions were simple, and honestly, I'd have thought anyone could have done it. I had felt a small hesitation in my movements when a shadow passing across the wall caught my eye. I spun around, putting my hand up to block whatever was propelling toward my head.

I held my breath, keenly aware of the whole class witnessing the book that now hovered in the air. Crap. I released it, letting the book fall to the floor with a loud thump. I glanced around, the entire class looked awestruck.

Even Stacy sat there with a dumbfounded look on her stupid face. I wanted to grab the book and hurtle it back at her—my cover had been blown.

"Miss Hollander," Ms. Spicer gasped. "You didn't say that you already knew how to perform this spell!"

I glanced around once more. Yep, all eyes were still on me. Including Roland's. He smiled.

"You only asked if I'd heard of it," I said. True, but really, I knew what she'd meant. My intention was to muddle along, having just as much trouble as the next guy. This was considered "strong magic." Something that kids my age certainly couldn't do yet. Especially at the skill level I'd just demonstrated. I was smart enough to know that. If you couldn't do a Floga charm, you certainly couldn't do a Pagoma spell.

"Have you been instructed on this?" Her tone was implying. I could hear the disapproval in her voice.

"Instructed . . .?"

Ms. Spicer frowned at me before turning her attention elsewhere. She walked across the room, picked up the book and opened the cover. There was a more pressing matter to deal with. "Miss Wilcox! Would you please explain why your book nearly hit Miss Hollyander?"

"Reverse Pagoma?" She suggested casually.

Light laughter broke out.

"Detention Miss Wilcox." She handed the book back to her sharply before returning to the front of the class.

I stuck my tongue out at Stacy—childish I know but I felt a thousand times better.

"Alright class." Ms. Spicer hushed the loud chatter that had broken out. "You may begin reviewing chapters twelve and thirteen: your homework!" she announced firmly as she took her seat at her desk. "Quietly!"

We flipped open our books and studied "quietly" for the next thirty minutes.

I had my bag packed and was ready to dash out the door when the bell rang.

"Perhaps tomorrow, Miss Hollyander . . ." Ms. Spicer caught me at the door, " . . . you may lead us in a demonstration on the Pagoma Spell?" She gave me a knowing look.

"Yes, Ms. Spicer."

"Holly crap Evie, you're like some kind of freaking super hero." Gillian was over the top as we retreated across the lawn. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Yeah." We paused outside the gym. "Sixth period P.E."

She gave me a sympathetic smile. "I'll see you at dinner?"

"If I'm still alive." I turned and sulked away.

I got dressed for class with a few minutes to spare. I hustled out into the main room. The guys were already sparing. I felt like I was watching some sort of Kung Fu movie. There was no way I could do any of this.

"Hollyander! You made it."

It was like déjà vu. All eyes were once again on me.

I cringed. I was never going to get used to Gunny's voice. I turned around to face him, surprised by the wide smile on his face.

"Fall in," he said.

The guys had already taken their places. I took my spot next to Arnold again.

"Now gentlemen, and lady," Gunny gave a polite nod my way. "We are three-quarters through this school year. Surprisingly, you girls have managed to do an adequate job. But your performance will have to improve drastically if you hope to pass finals in three months time."

A low groan reverberated around the room.

"If you do not pass finals," Gunny's voice thundered on, "you will be expelled from the program!"

I felt a smile creep across my face. A light at the end of this horrid tunnel shined brightly. I could hear the hallelujah chorus right now.

"Wipe that smirk off your face Hollyander! Failure is not an option."

I huffed. "But you just said if we don't pass—" I stopped, swallowing the rest of my sentence. The look on his face confirmed that failure was most definitely, not an option. Crap! Somehow, I would be passing this class. A large lump stuck in my throat.

"You will be paired up with partners." Gunny was in fine form today. His booming voice echoed throughout the gymnasium. Too bad I didn't know a spell for laryngitis!

"You will train daily." He paced back and forth in front of us. Intimidation at its best. "For those of you that are lacking like Thompson here . . . for God's sake Thompson, stand up straight boy this isn't a rest home."

I bit the inside of my mouth, trying not to laugh. Poor Thompson. He must be one of the boys Gunny had talked about: one whose parents were pushing him to become a slayer. He looked as excited to be here as I did.

"As I was saying," Gunny cleared his voice. "For those of you that are lacking, extra training sessions will be implemented."

I stifled a groan. "Extra training sessions" had my name written all over it.

"I suggest," Gunny continued, "that unless you don't want your partner kicking your butt for making him do double time, you pansies better pull your own weight."

I grimaced. This was yet another reason these guys were going to hate me. There was no way I was going to pass this class without extra training sessions. Crap—my new word of choice. This was seriously going to hinder my social life. I could kiss all school dances and the prospect of a boyfriend goodbye. I'd be labeled as "homework" before class was over. No guy was going to hang out with the girl who caused extra training sessions. Why did every guy in the school have to aspire to be a slayer?

"Now. Listen for your names and pair up. Howard—Chambers. Andersen—Thompson. Bixby—Arnold, Vandenberg—Hollyander."

The names went on and on. It didn't matter. Aside from a few, I had no idea who these guys were.

I could hear a loud sigh behind me—Roland. I knew he didn't want to partner up with me. I actually didn't blame him. A girl and extra training to boot . . . this sucked! I wasn't going to win any popularity contests around here. I was just about to let him off the hook when—

"Now, spread out and begin with basic hand to hand!" Gunny shouted.

"Excuse me, Gunnery Sergeant Jaxson, if I might make a suggestion?"

I turned my head to the bleachers behind me. I hadn't even noticed him there. Sitting halfway up, looking amazingly hot in a tight black t- shirt and shorts. Antonio laid his book aside. He was the most gorgeous-looking bookworm I'd ever seen. I wondered if he was reading a romance? His eyes flickered to mine. A faint tinge of pink colored his cheeks.

"What is it Vasques?" Gunny boomed in an unusually polite tone. I'd have to mark this day down on the calendar.

"It seems hardly fair to pair Mr. Vandenberg up with Miss Hollyander. She's new and will require much training if she's to pass finals." I listened to the words roll off his tongue. His thick accent even made his unintentional insult sound attractive. I think it was unintentional . . .? Who cared! My knees grew weak as he approached.

"I'll be her partner," Chad volunteered loudly as he stepped forward. The come-hither look on his face made me want to gag. "I don't mind the extra training."

A soft roar broke out.

"No!" Roland snapped. "You will not." He moved toward me, his eyes flickering from Chad to me. The look on his face suggested that maybe he had heard about the Chad incident. He didn't look happy.

It was sweet and all that Roland wanted to stick up for me, but I didn't need his help. I could handle Chad. And anything else he tried to dish out.

Chad shrugged. "Just trying to be helpful. You know, taking one for the team. Someone needs to roll around with her." He took a defensive position and sneered at Roland. So much for BFFs!

Antonio's hands were on my shoulders, subtly moving me out of a potential war zone. He stood in front of me. His arms crossed. There was no doubt, if Chad so much as flinched my way, he was getting his ass kicked.

My heart fluttered at that. You had to love protective guys. I blushed. He could be my shield, any day.

"Easy boys," Gunny asserted himself between them. "No one will be rolling around with Hollyander . . . not unless they want me kicking their butt." His eyes were on Chad, but the visual brought a collective groan throughout the room. Even I flinched.

"With your permission, Sir, I'd like to volunteer." Antonio's voice rang above the tension. His eyes still fixed on Chad.

Gunny laughed. Hard. "You'd kill her boy. She's not ready to spar with you."

"Of course, I'd never take the advantage, Sir." Antonio sounded insulted. "I'll take her on as my own student, I'm more than qualified."

The soft roar faded into quiet whispers. They were all wondering the same thing I was. Why in the world would he want to train with me? Not that I was complaining. Visions of Antonio all hot and sweaty, pulling me close to him, ran wickedly through my mind. I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I couldn't believe I'd just had that thought!

"What do you say, Hollyander, you up to training with a real Slayer?"

"A Slayer?" I looked from Gunny to Antonio with wide eyes. My hot steamy daydream had evaporated. "He's a Slayer?" He couldn't be more than a few years older than I was.

"Alright Vasques, she's yours. Do whatever you need to get her ready in time for trials."

"Yes, Sir." Antonio nodded, and then gave me a quick wink.

"Oh, and Vasques. Please don't break her. I'd hate for her daddy to have to kill you." Gunny chuckled as he strode off across the room. "Vandenberg! You're with Martin."

And with that, we broke into our groups.

I stood where I was; a statue. Had I just been paired with the hottest guy on campus? An older boy—a Slayer! I squealed mentally.

# Chapter 8

"This way, Evelyn." Antonio's soft voice spoke from behind me.

I turned around to admire the scenery, I mean Antonio. His six-foot tall frame stood over me by at least half a foot. His dark hair that once hung loosely around his face, was now tucked behind his ears, giving it a sexy, lazy look that made my knees wobble—again.

His dark brown eyes, black really, were deep and intense. I hadn't been able to admire them fully earlier on the lawn. The bright sun had obscured my vision. I admired them now. His skin, golden and tanned, was proof that he spent most of his time in the sun. This was my personal trainer? Oh Baby! Maybe this class wasn't going to be so bad after all?

I followed Antonio out the gym doors and onto the track field. The late afternoon sun was still blazing. Today was one of those rare "summer days" in Idaho; or so I'd been told. The air was uncharacteristically hot and I could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form instantly.

"Why are we out here?" I waved my hand back and forth in front of my face, trying to fan myself. "Aren't we supposed to be inside, hitting each other or something?"

He looked stunned. "Do you want to hit me?"

"No. Well, I mean, aren't we supposed to? Isn't that what Slayers do?"

Antonio smiled. "Yes and no. I don't plan on sparring with you for some time. I think it's better if we start slow. We need to build your muscles up before you're ready for any real physical activity." His eyes looked me up and down with skilled thoroughness.

I huffed. Was he suggesting I was out of shape? How dare he! I was rock hard damn it! Well, almost. I was nearly seventeen. My thighs and butt were as firm as they would ever be.

Antonio cleared his throat. Blush now tinged his cheeks—weird! What did he have to be embarrassed about?

"So where do you want to start?" I grumbled.

"We'll do a few laps around the track, then head into the weight room and work on some basic conditioning."

I groaned mentally. "I don't run." I tried to look as put out as I sounded.

"You will," Antonio promised with a smile, ignoring my warning.

He took off down the track. I followed, barely keeping in step. Sadly, it was obvious—he was taking it easy on me.

I started off okay, but by the second lap, I was wheezing again. I held onto my right side tightly. A painful stitch had rooted itself deep. I wanted to drop to the ground and cry. But of course I didn't. There was no way I was going to cry in front of Antonio, and have him thinking I was a total baby.

I tried to distract myself with thoughts of how cute he was; even though I was still irritated by his earlier comment. I was sure that Antonio would break Gillian's hot-o-meter in an instant. I glanced over at him. He was smiling again–must be an inside joke.

"So, what are you doing here?" I panted along-side him. I couldn't believe it. He wasn't even breaking a sweat! I was dying and he wasn't even breaking a freaking sweat? How fair is that? I felt like one of the contestants on the "Biggest Loser," only I wasn't over weight. I was just un-athletic, having never exercised a day in my life practically. I was so out of this guy's league.

"I'm helping to train you."

I frowned. "I know that. I meant, what are you doing at Pinehurst? You're a Slayer right? Aren't you supposed to be . . . I don't know . . . slaying something?" I panted.

Now he frowned. "You truly have no idea what a Slayer is, do you?"

"Not really. I only . . . found out my dad's . . . some Guardian . . . slash . . . Slayer . . . the other day."

"'Guardian slash Slayer?'" He repeated me, his tone incredulous. "How did you get in this class?"

"Somebody's . . . twisted . . . idea . . . of a joke." I breathed heavily. I'd already established that running and talking were not a good combination for me. Why I persisted on doing it was beyond me. "It wasn't . . . my choice. Believe me."

Antonio slowed his pace, allowing me to catch my breath—there was a God!

"I'm here as a favor to someone," he announced. "I was asked to supervise and help out with the class," he admitted a few moments later.

"Some favor. Talk about a waste of time," I breathed heavily. My heart still beat like a rabbit's but at least I could form whole sentences.

"I'll let you know after a few weeks," he murmured under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Let's finish this lap and head in." He pushed on effortlessly, leaving me slightly behind. Show off.

I had to kick it into high gear to catch up—a mistake I wouldn't be making again. I was practically wheezing now. "So, where are you from?"

"Valencia."

I rolled my eyes mentally. Like I know where that is. Is it too much to expect that I might get a geographical location to my question?

His smile broadened, as if hearing my mental rant. "That's in Spain."

"I knew that," I lied. I didn't want him to think I was a total idiot. "I studied geography." Sort of . . . well . . . I'd taken the class anyway.

"So, how old are you?" I continued. "You're so far from home. Your parents must really miss you. I'm sure your girlfriend does." Careful Evie . . . reign it in. Don't be too obvious. Why is he smiling like that? I swear he can hear my thoughts!

The corners of Antonio's mouth curled up. "I'm nineteen. I've been away from home for a while now. I'm sure my parents miss me but they understand. I have a job to do."

"Oh." Oh? That's my response? Oh. Could I sound any less intelligent? Okay. Think Evie, think. He's nineteen . . . three years older . . . two really. I was practically seventeen. That's not out of the realm of a possibility, is it? Dang it! He hadn't mentioned a girlfriend? I gave him a sideways glance. There's no way I could ask him again without sounding too obvious. He'll think I'm interested, which of course I am.

"I'm not attached to anyone."

"What?" I jumped out of my head.

"You asked if I had a girlfriend."

"No. I just said she must miss you . . . if you had one that is. It's not like I asked or anything." I snorted, waving him off. Even through my wind-burned cheeks, I could feel the blush on my face. Damn this Irish skin. I had to be glowing. I jogged on.

"My apologies." His voice was solemn.

"So you don't have a girlfriend?" I reiterated.

"I thought you weren't interested?" He smirked, still keeping his eyes forward.

Damn if he wasn't frustrating. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was enjoying this. "I'm not interested. I just didn't want to be rude. You commented, and I thought I should acknowledge . . ."

"No."

"No, I shouldn't acknowledge?"

"No. I do not have a girlfriend."

"Oh, no girlfriend huh?" I tried to hide my excitement. Ahahh! Focus Evie! You don't want to trip and look like a klutz. Ask him something. Anything! Change the subject! You've still got that smirk on your face, he's gonna see how excited you are . . .

"So. Why are you helping me?" I asked. Oh my God, how can he not have a girlfriend? The very laws of nature were against it. It was almost a sin. Who was I kidding? It was a sin!

Antonio chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Had I missed something?

"Nothing."

My eyes narrowed.

"I'm here because you need me."

"What?" I had to follow along better. He was going to think I was mental.

"You need me," he repeated earnestly.

YES! I do need you. I need you to take me into your arms and—"Umph" I landed, arms out, skidding on my stomach like I'd just stolen home base.

"Evelyn!" Antonio rolled me over gently. His soft eyes looked me over. "Are you alright?" he asked.

I thought about that. I think I was physically okay, but my pride would be wounded forever. "Evie."

"What?"

"My name's Evie." I dusted the dirt off my hands and legs and took inventory: No cuts, scrapes, or limbs going in opposite directions. "I'm fine." Although, if there was any mercy in this world, a giant hole would open and swallow me now! How embarrassing!

"Can you stand up?" He snaked one arm around my back and helped me to my feet. Oh the heat of his body . . . it could melt a glacier.

"Sorry, I must have tripped on a rock or something." I could feel my cheeks burning again. He had to think I was a total loser.

"No." The back of Antonio's fingers brushed my cheek. "I don't think that."

Oh my God, he was touching my face! And looking at me with those dreamy eyes! Ahahh! I squealed mentally. I took in a big breath. Aftershave! He shaves . . . Wait! Did he just say "no?" As in, he didn't think I was a total loser? I hadn't actually said that . . . aloud. What was going on?

He lowered his hand. "Are you sure you're alright? He gave me a long look. "We could call it a day?" I could definitely sense the concern in his voice. How sweet!

"No! I mean I'm fine. Really." He was sweet to worry, but there was no way I was going to wimp out. "Come on."

We resumed our run. This time, my eyes were on the ground ahead. I couldn't risk tripping and really injuring myself. The thought of getting hurt and not being able to train with Antonio made my chest start to ache. Mercifully, we finished in the weight room an hour later.

In my expert opinion, having endured two full days of Hell, sixth period P.E is a two-hour, brutal work out; designed to break the human spirit, and smother it into oblivion—a hot shower was the only thing I wanted.

"Decided to take a shower, Hollyander?"

I spun halfway around, soapsuds still sliding down my body.

"Nice!" Chad grinned. "You think I might get a front view?"

I screamed as I did my best to cover myself with my hands.

I'm not sure if it was my blood-curdling screaming or the look of sheer murder in my eyes, but Chad, the ass, took off and ran like a bat out of hell.

I grabbed my towel from a hook on the wall and ran to my locker. Not even bothering to dry off, I threw on my sweat shirt and pants, and ran barefoot out of the locker room with my hair, still dripping wet.

"CHAD BIXBY HOW COULD YOU!" In a fraction of a second, I'd crossed the ten-foot gap between us and threw myself on a still grinning Chad. Like a ball of fury, I hit him with everything I had. He threw me from him effortlessly, only to have me come back for more. I wanted blood!

"Oh, come on. Like I was going to pass up on an opportunity like that," he boasted, as he struggled now, to fight me off.

"You Pervert!"

"Evie!" Strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me off Chad.

I knew the voice. I couldn't stop. I was filled with so much rage, that only my fingers, gouging Chad's eyes out, was going to release it. I kicked and fought like a wild cat, trying to break free.

"Evie stop!" Antonio commanded.

I ignored him, struggling harder to get away. What was he doing here anyway?

"Calm down!" Chad barked. "It's not like I saw everything . . . just your back side."

"What?" Antonio growled from behind me. The shock of Chad's words must have distracted him. His grip loosened.

"You jerk!" I managed to reach out with my hand and claw his face. Revenge is sweet!

Chad shrieked as he touched his bloodied cheek. He came at me this time, his fist poised and ready to strike.

That's when Antonio flipped me backward over his shoulder in one easy movement. I staggered into the wall behind me, uninjured, but too surprised to move. Antonio was between us. By the look on Chad's face, I could see it surprised him too—he recovered quickly.

"She's going to pay for that!" Chad screamed.

"Me? You spied on me while I was taking a shower! I'm going to do much more than just scratch your face." I made a move toward him.

He lunged at me, only to meet Antonio's fist. Chad stopped short. A look of confusion claimed him. His eyes were blinking as if trying to figure out what had just happened to him. He fell back onto the ground. Knocked out—cold!

I stood open mouthed. I'd never seen anyone knocked out before. Well, except for on TV, but that wasn't real.

"Evie, are you alright?" Antonio was looking at me now, his hands gently rubbing my shoulders. "Did he hurt you?"

I stared past him, looking at an unconscious Chad. "I can't believe you hit him."

"He was going to attack you!" Antonio exclaimed.

"I know, but you knocked him out!" Yes I was stating the obvious but I couldn't get over how easy Antonio had made it look.

"He took advantage of your privacy," he growled. "He got it easy. Had Gunny overheard any of that—"

Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! I started to shift back and forth from one foot to the other. The shock of what had happened had set in "Antonio, Chad saw me. Naked! He's going to tell everyone." I sucked in a mouthful of air. "He's going to tell Stacy Wilcox. My life is over!" I buried my face in my hands.

"No!" Antonio shook me lightly. "He will not tell anyone."

"Are you kidding? This is like striking gold. I may as well just give him my panties so he could parade them around the school and tell everyone we had some sort of love affair. Jerk!" I kicked Chad in the leg—he'd have a nasty bruise later. I kicked him again for good measure. How dare he?

"Evie!" Antonio took me by the arm, pulling me away. "I promise you, he will not speak of this to anyone."

I wished I could believe him. "I'll just be a minute." I walked back into the locker room, slipped into my shoes and took up my backpack. I didn't bother with combing out my hair. My body slumped as I returned to Antonio. I was ready to sink into any hole that might blessedly open up. None appeared. The embarrassment of what had just happened was too much to bear. The look of sympathy in Antonio's eyes nearly brought me to tears.

Antonio must have sensed my impending breakdown. Come. I'll walk you to your dorm." He put his arm around me leading me away. Being that all the life had been sucked out of me, a gentle breeze could have led me. It wasn't until we were safely outside and away from the building, that he released me. My body silently screamed in protest.

"Do you think he'll wake up soon?" I asked when we'd almost reached my dorm.

Antonio mused, "Perhaps."

"I'm sorry I got you involved. Chad hates me for some reason. Now he's going to give you a bad time too. When he wakes up that is."

I really did feel bad. I was flattered Antonio had stuck up for me, but now Chad would have someone else to direct his anger toward. Too bad it couldn't be someone deserving, like Stacy. Stacy! Please God; don't let Stacy hear about this.

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I suppose I should call my dad and have him come get me," I thought aloud. Maybe he can send Miles tonight? It really was the only solution. The entire school would know by dinner. Breakfast if I was lucky. I'd never been so embarrassed in my whole life. He wouldn't put me through the horror of having to stay at a school where some pervert has it out for me. Damn that Chad Bixby. Not only was I going to have to switch schools again, but I was also starting too really like my new friends—especially Antonio.

Antonio took me by the arm and pulled me aside, out of the shuffle of traffic. His face was filled with concern. "You mustn't leave." There was a sense of urgency in his voice.

"Uhh, I can't stay here now," I scoffed.

"I don't understand. Why would you have to leave?"

I looked at him incredulously. "You're joking right?" His face didn't budge. He still wore a look of confusion and concern.

I stepped closer, not wanting to chance any passersby overhearing. The close proximity surprised me. Dang he smelled good. "Look, maybe it's different for a guy, but for a girl . . . well, for me anyway . . ." I suddenly felt self-conscious.

"What is it?" There was a kindness in his eyes, the likes I'd never seen. He'd volunteered to be my trainer. He'd come to my rescue and defended me with Chad. Twice! He genuinely seemed to care about me. Why?

"Why do you care so much?" It came out a little more demanding than I'd intended. I could tell by his shaken expression, that he hadn't expected me to ask this.

"How could I not?" He looked at me like I was missing the obvious.

How could he not? Could he be anymore cryptic? What kind of answer was that anyway? I'll tell you what kind of answer that was: It's an, I have my reasons and I don't feel like sharing them with you kind of answer. Or maybe, the dreaded, you're too young to understand kind of answer. Clearly we were not on the same page. Men! Did we have to spell everything out for them?

"I'm embarrassed alright." My eyes evaded his. "No guy has seen me . . . you know, ever. I've never even kissed—" There was no need to finish. Understanding suddenly swept across his face. Why did he have to look at me that way? Like I'm some poor pathetic soul? Even if I was!

"Chad will always be snickering or making fun of me now." A tear escaped out the corner of my eye. I didn't bother wiping it. More were on the way. "I can't stay here Antonio . . . I just can't."

"Evie, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Chad should be the one who's embarrassed. For him to stoop so low, just to sneak a peek at a beautiful girl . . . it's unconscionable!"

Yeah, it was unconscionable, but I knew Chad hadn't felt the least bit sorry. In fact, I was willing to bet that if he was given another opportunity to—I stopped mid-thought; my eyes growing wider as I stared at Antonio.

He suddenly looked uneasy, shifting his weight slightly.

"Beautiful? You think I'm beautiful?"

"Well, I . . ." he stepped back a little, his cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink. "I should get you inside, it's almost dinner time, and you're still wet." He reached for my arm.

"Why don't you want me to leave?" I asked, planting myself firmly where I stood. For the first time in my life I didn't care how I looked.

"What?" His words came out flustered. "I promised to train you. If you leave, I shall not be able to fulfill that promise."

I thought about that. Not the proclamation of love I'd expected. "I'm sorry," I admitted softly. "I appreciate your time, really I do, but I can't stay here. Not after what's happened. I'm too . . . exposed now." I couldn't help but cringe at the word.

"Evie please," He took hold of my arms, drawing me closer. His dark and luscious eyes looked anxiously into mine. "Do not leave," he pleaded. "Not yet."

There was something incredibly romantic, albeit unsettling about his request. I wasn't sure what to say. My mind wasn't working right for some reason. Every time I wanted to protest, I fell deeper into his gaze. He'd licked his lip, moistening it slightly. My eyes lingered there for a moment, wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips.

"If I promise you that Chad will not speak a word of this to anyone, will you stay?" The headiness of his words distracted me from my thoughts. Antonio looked almost . . . desperate.

"How can you—"

"If I promise you, will you stay?" he repeated more earnestly.

"Yes." The word fell from my lips of its own accord.

He sighed contently. "It is done. Do not think on it any longer." His hand touched my cheek softly, holding it for a moment. I felt the warmth of his touch move through me, somehow healing my wounded spirit. Strange . . . I didn't feel quite so upset any longer. "I will take care of everything," He promised.

I walked slowly up the steps, my mind reeling. What the heck just happened?

"Evie!"

I spun around, my eyes seeking Antonio's.

"You were right. It is my favorite."

"What is?" I called out, confusion overtaking me once again.

"The cupcake; you were right." He smiled knowingly.

I thought back to the cupcake I'd given him the other day and blushed. I still had no idea how I knew chocolate was his favorite.

Antonio gave me a wink and took off at a light run down the path. I couldn't help but smile after him.

# Chapter 9

The next few days were weird. I'd seen Chad at lunch, and in gym, but he never spoke to me. In fact, he never said anything to me. He'd glare on occasion, normal Chad stuff, but nothing more. It was as if the whole incident never happened. If it weren't for the scratch marks on his face, I'd have questioned it happening myself.

I finally decided to ask Antonio what he'd said to Chad to make him keep quiet.

"What I said?" He picked up his pace a little on the track.

"Yeah," I panted, trying to keep up. "What did you tell him? I mean, you must have threatened him good."

"I never threatened him. I just told him he should forget about the whole thing. Too forget that he ever saw you . . . in such a compromising position."

That's a nice way to put it. "And he just agreed? He didn't try to punch you for knocking him out?" This wasn't making any sense.

"He just agreed."

I thought about that. No. I wasn't buying this. "Chad hates me. He's always making weird faces at me, picking fights. No way would he miss out on an opportunity to make a fool out of me. You must have said something more or done something."

"Aren't you happy he's leaving you alone?" Antonio asked.

That was a dumb question. "Yes, it's just . . . this might sound bad but . . . is it possible I'm not as good-looking as I thought?"

Antonio stopped dead in his tracks. The sudden halt nearly causing him to topple over. I actually ran past him before I realized he'd stopped completely.

"What's wrong?" I called, backtracking a bit.

"Would you mind repeating that?"

I scrubbed a hand down my face. Why did I have to ask that out loud? "I just meant that he hasn't commented, not even to me privately, about what happened. No long looks, no snide remarks about how incredibly nice my butt is. And for the record, it is. Nice I mean." That was an extremely bold statement I knew, but the way I saw it, Chad's indifference to seeing me naked spoke volumes; he had to think I was completely unattractive—there was no way I wanted Antonio entertaining that thought!

There was a slight pinkish hue on Antonio's face. Embarrassment? Disgust? Anger? I couldn't tell. Shock was a definite possibility as well.

"I just figured that my naked body, no matter how little he saw, might be a topic of conversation for an adolescent male, that's all." I shrugged and resumed our run, hoping my earlier statement would be forgotten. Antonio was beside me in no time.

"You're mad because he hasn't commented on how good-looking your . . . naked body is?" He seemed to be having trouble saying the word.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds a bit shallow." But it was true. I did find my body to be pretty darn attractive. Not as attractive as my mom's but still, I always got more than my share of whistles at the beach; even though my father insisted on me wearing a one piece. Always noting that: "contrary to popular belief, the young man of today does not want his girl parading around half-dressed for all to see." Neither does the father of today I thought with a smile.

Antonio looked dumbfounded. "Isn't that what you wanted, for him to forget the whole thing; to never have seen you?"

"Of course, but I can't turn back time. And, he is a guy; they can't keep quiet for long about something like that. Sooner or later, he's going to slip up." If there was one thing I'd learned about high school boys, they always kissed and told.

Antonio took hold of my wrist and stopped me. "No he won't." There was darkness to his words.

I looked at him for the first time. I mean really looked at him. His eyes were telling me something and I found myself trying to listen. My own eyes fell shut. Muffled sounds, almost like static from an out-of-tune radio station began to whisper in my ears.

Antonio laced his fingers with mine, startling me for a moment. The sounds were coming in clearer.

Can you hear me?

I jumped back, my heart skipping a beat. I opened my mouth to speak—nothing!

He smiled, and extended his hand once again. "Don't be scared. You had it."

I looked at his hand. It seemed harmless enough. His eyes held that same intensity I saw moments ago.

I shook my head no and took another step back. "You spoke to me; in my head!" I hadn't realized I was whispering.

Antonio's smile broadened.

"How did you do that?"

He shrugged. "The same way you're starting to hear other's thoughts.

"How did you know I could hear other's thoughts?" I hadn't told him that . . . I hadn't told anyone that. Hell, I hadn't even admitted it to myself!

"I'm a two-way communication system," he announced with a slight laugh. "I can speak to you telepathically, and I . . . can hear your thoughts."

With that, embarrassment, the likes I'd never felt before hit me like a freight train. Oh . . . my . . . god!

Understanding once again washed over Antonio's face. "It's alright Evie!"

"No." I shook my head. I knew tears were spilling over, running steadily down my cheeks, but that was the least of my worries. Antonio heard everything, and I mean everything. Every unspoken thought I'd had, and most were about him. He knew irrefutably, that I had a ten-alarm crush on him. This was worse than Chad seeing me half naked—much worse! Crap . . . he can hear me now! I covered my face in my hands, as if that might keep him out of my head.

"It's okay to have crushes, Evie. I've had them too."

Great! He was sympathizing. I'll bet he didn't have to worry that those crushes could hear every thought he had about them. This was beyond embarrassing.

Antonio took my hands gently, holding them in his. His eyes looked so kind, so thoughtful. Despite my embarrassment, I could feel myself melting away like butter under their stare.

"Do not be embarrassed," he spoke as his thumbs rubbed over the tops of my hands, weakening my knees further.

I could feel the flush covering my entire body now.

"So you have a little crush on me. Lots of people have crushes. In a few weeks, it will fade and you'll have found someone else that strikes your fancy." He smiled kindly. "I will be a distant memory."

Was it possible he had no idea just how in love with him I was falling? How badly I wanted him to kiss me? Right now even. Damn! He heard that too! Yes. The look on his face confirmed he'd heard that loud and clear. I was still waiting for that giant hole to open up. Was it too much to ask for a catastrophic event that might swallow me whole?

Antonio blushed. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me." He actually did sound flattered. I wasn't sure if he realized that his hands were still holding mine until his thumbs moved over the top of them again, gently massaging my skin. He stepped closer, his warm breath blowing across my face. I could just make out a hint of chocolate and peppermint . . . I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press my lips into his.

"Your first kiss should be special, Evie. It should be full of magic." His words were soft and low, each one caressing me like the next. "Perhaps under the cover of a tree, while escaping a rain storm." An image of Antonio holding me under that large willow in the common area sprung to mind. "Perhaps, after attending a romantic dance," he continued, his eyes locking with mine now. "Or maybe, unexpectedly . . ." His hand reached up and took a loose curl tucking it behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek as he did so, tenderly. I leaned into them, feeling their warmth. Antonio's eyes were burning with an intensity I didn't understand. No one had looked at me like this before. I want to kiss you too Evie. His unspoken words rang clearly in my head.

He leaned in closer . . . closer. My hand cupped his against my face. He was going to kiss me! At least he might have, if I hadn't blown it with thinking . . . "he's going to kiss me!"

Antonio stepped back all of a sudden. His hand leaving my face was like having the air sucked away from me. He looked shaken, like he couldn't believe what he'd been about to do. And in that same moment, regret hung heavily on his face. He shook his head. "It cannot be me, Evie." The words came out husky. I didn't understand them.

"I . . . I gotta go!" I ran across the field, tears filling my eyes once again. The embarrassment of my own thoughts consumed me. I tried not to think. I didn't want him to hear that I was trying not to think. How could I ever face Antonio again?

I flung open the door to the gym and ran smack into Gunny, bouncing off his chest. I staggered, and with his assistance, I stood up straight.

"Hollyander! Why aren't you . . .?" His once hard expression turned to horror. Crying girls was something I'm sure Gunny didn't want to deal with. Surprisingly, he was very intuitive as to why girls usually cried.

"Who hurt you?" He looked as fierce as my dad would have looked. He was ready to kick some major butt.

"Can I leave, please? I just want to go to my room." I sniffled, wiping the tears from my face.

His eyes narrowed, sweeping the crowd of boys for a possible suspect. They all thankfully obverted their eyes.

"You'd tell me if one of them hurt you . . . wouldn't you?" His words were gruff, but there was a tender side about Gunny that I'd suspected most people didn't get to see. Perhaps he felt a sense of responsibility for me since he and my dad were friends—yet another reason, among many, I suspected for being placed in this class. Gunny wanted to keep an eye on me, and I was grateful for once someone cared.

"It wasn't any of them. I just need to go. I promise I'll be back tomorrow."

He frowned, mulling my answer over a bit. "Alright, Hollyander, get out of here."

I rushed away. Past the boys sparring, past Roland Vandenberg who saw without question how upset I was, and into the locker room. I grabbed my things and then ran all the way to my dorm room and locked the door behind me.

I threw myself on the bed and cried. How could I have misread that? I thought Antonio wanted to kiss me too. I heard him whispering it in my mind! I was so stupid. "How was I going to face him again?" I cried harder into my pillow.

Why would he care about me when he could have any girl he wanted—an older girl! Not some baby high school kid with a curfew, and . . . how'd he put it . . .? "A crush that will fade in a few weeks."

I screamed into my pillow. This wasn't like that. I'd had crushes before. At my last school, I'd had what I thought was the biggest crush ever on Joey St. John. He was blond, blue-eyed and beautiful, and a junior! My best friend Ashley and I used to go hang out at the beach and watch him surf on the weekends. I wouldn't exactly say he didn't know I existed . . . he did say sorry once when he ran into me on his way to class, knocking my books out of my arms. He even asked if I was okay, and helped me pick them up! Ashley said that was a sign of true affection. "No guy stops to help you unless they're into you!" she'd said. Ah . . . Joey St. John . . .

I shook the thought away. This was different. This wasn't a schoolgirl's crush. I'd spent actual time with Antonio. He'd held my hand on a number of occasions. Like when he helped me off the grass and I gave him a cupcake. Or the time I'd tripped and fallen on my face while thinking about him; he'd helped me off the ground then too. Or just like now when he held my hand so that I could hear his thoughts better.

Wait a minute. He held my hand so I could hear his thoughts better? Why? What had he been trying to tell me before I freaked out and ran away? We'd been talking about Chad and the fact that he hadn't been bothering me. That Antonio had told him to forget he ever saw me in such a "compromising position;" as Antonio so kindly put it. What had Antonio done to him? And what did it have to do with me being able to hear his thoughts?

The sound of knocking at the door drew me out of my reverie. I looked toward the source of the noise and frowned. "Go Away!"

"Evie it's me!"

I sighed and rose from the bed. Iris wouldn't leave me alone until she saw me. Iris was, if nothing else, persistent.

"I heard you were upset," she pushed past me the moment the door cracked open.

"Won't you come in?" I offered dryly, before swinging the door shut. "Who told you?"

"I saw Roland outside. He wanted to see you."

"What? No! I don't want to see anyone." I planted myself firmly on the bed folding my arms. I wasn't going anywhere.

"What happened? Roland said you started crying in class. Did you get hurt or something?" She eyed me carefully.

"Yeah, I got hurt." It wasn't exactly a lie.

She patted my shoulder. "You'll see. The more you practice, the less it'll bother you. You just need to exercise more."

"I don't think more practice is what's needed." My tone was surly but Iris didn't seem to notice. She was all smiles and encouraging pep talks today. Sometimes I really hated cheerful people.

"Well, you should go talk to him. I think he wants to ask you something." Her expression was all knowing.

I glanced at the mirror on the wall. "I look like a mess. Tell him I'll talk to him tomorrow, if I'm still here." I fell back on the bed, in a pit of despair.

"If you're still here? Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Evie, you can't go home! We're just getting to be good friends!"

"Iris, you don't understand. I've had the most embarrassing day ever–the most embarrassing week, actually. I just want to go and leave this place behind me." I didn't really, but I couldn't see any alternative.

"Well, clean yourself up. It's about to get better." She took a Kleenex from the box on my nightstand and began blotting my face.

"Iris . . . what are you doing?" Her fingers were moving through my hair now, fluffing it.

She leaned back, admiring her handy-work, and smiled. "Okay, you're presentable now." She took me by the hand and led me downstairs and out the doors.

"Iris, what are we . . . " I stopped dead in my tracks. Roland was waiting outside beneath a tree. He leaned up against it casually, still wearing his shorts and tight-fitting shirt from P.E. He looked amazing. Why couldn't that be Antonio waiting under the tree for me? Oh yeah. He thought I was an immature schoolgirl with a ten-minute crush.

"Iris, I'm going to kill you later," I growled under my breath at her.

"No you won't. You'll be thanking me later. See ya!" She literally skipped off down the path.

"Evie!" Roland smiled brightly at the sight of me. The sight. That's exactly what I was. I pinched my cheeks subtly, adding some color to my face. Hoping to shift the attention from my red eyes—as if.

"Hey Roland, what's up?" I tried to sound remotely enthused. I don't think I fooled him. He studied me carefully.

"I wanted to see you. Are . . . are you all right now? You were so upset earlier."

Understatement of the year! I waved him off. "It's no big deal. Really, I'm fine." I flashed him one of my award-winning smiles.

"Good." He grinned, taking a step closer. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away."

He fidgeted for a moment. His eyes for some reason not connecting with mine. "The spring dance is in three weeks, and I wondered if you'd like to go? With me?"

"Oh. Oh! Really?"

"You sound surprised?" He gave me a wry smile.

"Well, I just figured that I was the last girl any guy in this school would want to be seen with. Being that I crashed your P.E. class and all."

"On the contrary, half the eleventh grade is pining for you. Do you have any idea how hot you look lifting weights?"

There was no need for artificial blush. I could feel the scarlet burn on my face. Why the heck couldn't Antonio say something nice like that? I was glad Roland wasn't able hear my thoughts. Sweet . . . privacy!

Unless of course you're going with someone else?" His confidence wavered.

"Who else would I be going with?" I knew who I'd like to go with, but that wouldn't happen in a million years. There was no way Antonio would be caught dead at a high school dance, especially with a Junior.

"Well, I thought maybe you and Antonio were . . . " He didn't need to finish. The suggestion was crystal—if only it was true!

"No. He's just helping me in class, nothing more." My words came out harsher than I'd meant. But Roland didn't seem to notice. A smile overtook his face.

"So what do you say?" he asked.

"Sure. I'd like that." My smile was genuine this time. I wasn't going to let my earlier argument with Antonio ruin this moment. My first dance!

"I'll see you around?" Before I could answer, Roland leaned over and kissed me quickly on the cheek. He took off toward The Kitchen, a little spring in his step.

I touched my face. I could still feel the kiss beneath my fingers. Roland was cute . . .

"Evie."

I spun around. Antonio walked out from behind a tree. The same tree I'd wished he'd been under moments ago.

"What do you want?" My words were crisp and unfriendly. He didn't deserve them and I knew it. It was my wounded pride speaking for me. I folded my arms across my chest, giving him a haughty look.

"We need to talk." He stepped closer, the delicious scent of aftershave moving with him. Crap! He heard that. I took a step back for every one of his advances. He stopped. His eyes pleaded with mine for understanding I couldn't give.

"Evie." He reached out as if to touch me.

"Don't." I warned.

"Evie, please, don't be angry with me."

"I'm not." I lied. "It's not your fault I'm a stupid little girl," Or that you can read my private thoughts. Even though I hadn't spoken the last part aloud, I knew he'd heard me. I could feel the tears building again, burning my eyes, and threatening to break free like a faulty dam. "I told you I'd be a waste of time," I mocked, wiping away an escapee. "You should have never asked to train me."

"You're not stupid. I'd never say that. And you are not a waste of time."

I half laughed. "Right." Liar.

He threw his arms up in the air. An exasperated look hung heavy on his face. "I'm not lying!"

It was time to reclaim some dignity. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll see you in class tomorrow, okay? Let's just forget about the whole thing?" I forced a small smile for good measure.

"Can you honestly do that?" I could hear the doubt in his voice.

Good question. I could hardly stand up straight when he looked at me the way he was looking at me right now. All I could think about was wrapping my arms around him and planting one on those luscious lips. I glanced his way, meeting a skeptical look. "Yes, I can do that." I could pretend not to be interested in him.

"You can't hide your feelings for me Evie, I wouldn't want you to."

"You stay out of my head!" I shouted angrily. "And I don't have feelings for you!" I knew it was a lie the moment the words left my lips. So did Antonio. Damn him! I fisted my hands at my sides.

"My apologies." His voice was low and sober. "I misunderstood. I underestimated your resolve."

My hands began to shake a little as I stood there. I held them, trying to steady myself. I knew he could see right through me. My heart fluttered at our close proximity. I wanted more than anything for him to reach out and hold my face like he'd done earlier. To stare at me with that look of what I hoped was longing in his eyes. I shook my head, pushing the picture away. The picture he was undoubtedly watching himself.

Antonio took a step toward me, his hand reaching out once again. He looked as if he wanted the same thing.

I stepped back, putting my hands out to stop him. I didn't need his sympathy. "I'll meet you on the field at three?" The words had come out as more of a question, proof of my uneasiness.

Antonio nodded, the silence cutting deep. But honestly, what more could he say. His eyes spoke volumes. There was a heavy sadness in them. He probably felt bad for the pathetic display of emotion I was throwing at him; probably cursing himself for offering to help me with my training in the first place.

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat; and without another word, turned and hurried toward The Kitchen. The further away I got from Antonio's mind reading, the better.

# Chapter 10

Dinner was as to be expected: Iris was beaming. Her cunning ability to sneakily drag me downstairs where I received the 'invitation of a lifetime' was totally her doing.

"You can thank me. Come on . . . I know you want to."

"Thank you, Iris." I rolled my eyes at her, a slight smile escaping me.

"Ahahh! You must be so excited! How can you sit there and eat?" Gillian had just joined us. "The whole campus is buzzing about it."

I eyed her with caution. I was afraid to ask what the "whole campus is buzzing about."

As if sensing my confusion she added: "You and Roland . . . going . . . out . . . exclusively . . ." Gillian drew out each word as if savoring them.

"What? He asked me to the dance like . . . a minute ago. How did you find out so fast?" Too bad it wasn't true. If only I had a ten-alarm crush on Roland instead of Antonio. Not that Roland was anything to sneeze at. He was super-cute. But he hadn't stirred that something inside of me. That something that made my heart flutter. He also hadn't made me feel like a child like Antonio had. Antonio. I growled mentally. I needed to push him out of my mind.

"Please," Gillian continued, unaware that I'd drifted off to la-la land. "Nothing happens on this campus that I don't know about." True. In the short time I'd been here, I'd quickly learned that Gillian was the eyes, ears, and nose of this place.

"I knew you had a reason for staying in sixth period P.E." The sound of that voice . . . like nails on a chalkboard . . . I cringed. Stacy Wilcox and her witch squad were standing over me.

"It's just a flippin' dance. That's all. We're not 'exclusive'." I made little quotes in the air with my fingers. No doubt she'd heard that rumor as well. I stood up from the table to leave. I didn't feel like listening to any of her crap tonight.

"Great. I suppose you'll be at the after-party as well?" she glowered.

"What after-party?" I really hated feeling like Stacy knew more than me. She looked so smug.

"Oh please, Evie. Don't pretend like you don't know. Like you're not planning on hanging out where you're not wanted and wrecking my night." Her haughty attitude was beyond just getting on my nerves. She may as well have been stomping up and down on them. The look of confusion on my face gave her more ammo. "The after-party at Chad's you twit!"

Ohhh. That was so it. Stacy picked the wrong day to mess with me. I spied a busboy walking by with a half eaten plate of spaghetti . . .

"You idiot!" Stacy shrieked. The Kitchen erupted into a loud snicker. Stacy was standing with her arms extended, surveying her dress in horror. "It's ruined! Absolutely ruined!"

"I'm sorry, Miss. I tripped!" The poor busboy looked like he was debating whether or not he should help her pick the spaghetti off her dress—he decided against it. The noodles had taken up permanent residence on her chest he knelt on the floor instead, retrieving the broken pieces of the plate.

"Oh Stacy, that's too bad . . . and you were going to wear that to the dance, huh?" I didn't even bother trying to conceal my happiness.

"Well, at least that ugly dress can be put out of its misery," Gillian joked.

Stacy stormed out, leaving a trail of spaghetti and profanities behind her.

The girls hadn't stopped laughing.

"Well, my work here is done." I brushed my hands together, dusting them off. "I'll see you guys later, okay?"

On my way out, I passed by Roland's table. I laughed to myself, remembering Gillian's gossip about how he and I were "exclusive." He caught my eye and winked. In an attempt to push Antonio farther from my mind, I stupidly opened my mouth and said the first thing that popped into my head: "Am I going to get a goodnight kiss?" I was totally joking. I mean, no way did I expect Roland to do what he did.

A look of shock and awe claimed him—not for long though. He jumped up; his chair skidded back into the table behind him. He had my face between his hands and his lips on mine faster than Gunny had slammed me to the floor. My guess, he'd been waiting for such an invitation—who knew?

My first kiss! If you could call it that, I wasn't actually doing the kissing. I was in complete shock. His mouth moved over mine with such precision and skill. I stood there like a statue, unable to move or contribute.

I could hear the hooting and hollering from the gang around us. Even Gillian's screech of excitement rang loud.

My lips responded, slowly, trying to mimic his. I knew that with the heat of his kiss and the way he pulled me closer to him, it was only a matter of time before they came to life. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events—I liked Roland?

He released my lips, but not his hold around me. A wide smile spread across his face.

I held onto him for support. I didn't trust my legs at the moment. I stared at him, unable to speak. The eyes that I'm sure were still on us vanished. It was only the two of us standing there. My heart was pounding loudly, wildly. He had to hear it.

He dropped his arms and stepped back, his face still smiling at mine.

I must have still looked stunned because I heard Wyatt ask Victor if he thought I was all right.

"I'm just . . . gonna . . . go now," I said, my voice sounding unusually high. "I'll . . . see you later." I gave Roland a small wave as I turned to leave, and tripped gracefully over a chair. The loud laughter behind me gave me the strength to keep walking, or staggering, depending on your point of view. I would never live this down.

The sky was darkening now. It was seven-thirty by the time I'd gotten back to my room. I really didn't want to, especially since I'd just experienced my first kiss, but since my dad was basically incommunicado during the daylight hours, I decided it was time to give him a call. Besides, I needed to hit him up for a dress for the dance.

"Hey, Dad!" I was really happy to hear his voice. He actually sounded glad to hear mine too. Thank god he couldn't see the still flushed cheeks I sported from Roland's kiss.

"I'm better. I've made some new friends . . ."

George sounded unusually excited for me.

And now for the dreaded part: It's common knowledge that fathers are fierce protectors when it comes to their daughters. It's as if they're admitting: I was a boy once. I know how they think. They are dangerous creatures and should be avoided at all costs. So, you can imagine that me asking if I could have a new dress, because some boy wanted to take me to the spring dance, would throw up a few of those dreaded flags. A barrage of questions came at me—my dad was a need-to-know every detail kind of guy!

I slumped in my chair. "Roland Vandenberg, I think his family lives somewhere in the Hamptons." I answered George—the interrogation had begun.

After a brief conversation, I learned that Roland's family owned an exclusive yacht club. George of course was a member—something else I didn't know about him. My father seemed pleased that I had such a respectable date—wonder of wonders! The dress would be no problem. He was actually in Paris at the moment. His assistant, Veronica, would make a trip to one of the local shops and pick out a dress for me. Veronica had excellent taste. She was in her late twenties, and knew the fashion world intimately. She'd always stick in a few "fun pieces" as she liked to refer to them. "Fun pieces" were not George Hollyander approved wear. He'd have me in layers if it were up to him. But since he didn't bother looking at the sales receipt, he had no idea what Veronica bought for me.

"Thanks dad. I love you too."

And that was that. George got right to the nitty-gritty of my call, added the "I love yous" where applicable, and hung up before I could ask any questions. Why was he avoiding me?

* * *

It was Friday! Everyone seems happier on a Friday. With promises of a great weekend, no school, sleeping in late, and the occasional party . . . I was more than ready for a break.

I was still giddy when I ran into Roland after lunch on our way to Spells. I couldn't help but blush at the sight of him. His unexpected kiss last night had left me frazzled to say the least, and the rumors that followed such a public display were in full force.

"Evie, I've been looking for you." He was beaming at the sight of me. How cute!

"Yeah?" I wasn't sure how to react. There was no protocol, that I knew of, explaining the rules of the day after an unexpected kiss from a guy you may, or may not, be dating because you only agreed to attend the spring dance with him. I smiled warmly.

He put his arm around me and continued on to class—I guess that answers the dating question.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you last night?" He pulled me closer to him. My head slightly rested against his chest. The smell of his cologne was no doubt rubbing off on me. I didn't mind. I inhaled the subtle scent of spice once again and smiled.

"No. You didn't embarrass me. I just really didn't expect you to kiss me in front of everyone. You just . . . took me by surprise." I was babbling.

"I thought so," he laughed. "You didn't seem into it at first. It was almost like you'd never kissed anyone before."

I stopped short, nearly causing Roland to stumble over his feet.

"What's wrong?" He lowered his arm, stepping back a little.

I didn't need a mirror to know that I was blazing red. I could feel it scorching my skin! Not because I was mad at him, but because I was too embarrassed to explain. Fortunately, I didn't have to.

"You're kidding me! You've never kissed anyone before?" His face was full of wonder.

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the onset of a killer headache.

"Evie, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done that if I knew."

"What? You wouldn't have wanted to kiss me if you knew I'd never kissed anyone before?" My voice raised a little like it always did when I was feeling threatened. Especially since Antonio's sort-of-rejection still smarted.

"No! I would have kissed you. I just wouldn't have done it in front of everyone. I thought by the way you came up to me— " he stopped clearly rethinking his words.

"What? That I went around kissing boys?" I glared at him. Daring him to confirm my assumption, knowing he'd get an ass kicking of a lifetime if he did.

"No, of course not, I just thought—" His words came out all flustered. "I'm sorry." I could see real regret in his eyes.

I decided to let him off the hook. "It's okay. It was . . . nice." I blushed. I couldn't help the grin that found its way to my face. Roland really was sweet.

He smiled back at me.

We walked into class, his arm around me once again. I'd expected all eyes to be on us, but that wasn't the case. No one even noticed us entering the room. The entire class was transfixed on an enormous black spider.

I jumped behind Roland, gripping his arms tightly—so much for being the brave Slayer-in-training. He stepped back, too. One of his arms wrapped behind him, holding me protectively against his back. The other—ready for anything!

"What . . . is . . .that?" I breathed.

"It's a Ragno, one of the protectors of the Underworld." Roland's answer was almost mechanical. He was in as much shock as the rest of the class; who by the way were all petrified in their seats.

"Ah, Miss Hollyander, I see you and Mr. Vandenberg aren't fans of the Ragno either."

Ms. Spicer was in the front of the class, a good distance away herself from the hairy intruder. The Ragno's body had to be a good twelve inches wide. As for the legs, there was a span of about three feet or so. It was perched on her desk, studying the group. We were the newest arrivals and the current focus of its attention—it was looking right at us.

"What is that doing here?" I hissed, gripping onto Roland tighter. I hated spiders, especially ones that I couldn't suck up in the vacuum. This one would leave a considerable dent in a car if you tried to run it over. Forget about the vacuum—it'd suck your face off before you even got close to it!

"Our friends at the Mageian Zoo of Wonders, lent it to us for the day to study its unique hunting style." Ms. Spicer boasted. She was clearly ecstatic about the whole thing. I however had visions of the entire class hanging from a giant web, waiting our turn to be drained dry by the demon from Hell.

"I figured since we had it, we might as well practice our defensive skills as well. I realize I'm jumping ahead a year, but I couldn't waste this opportunity. Learning to incapacitate a Ragno will give you the advantage if you're ever caught in its web," she added cheerfully.

As if I'd ever be anywhere near its web. Fortunately, I didn't plan to vacation in Hell anytime soon.

"Incapacitate? If that thing came after me, I'd kill it. Never mind incapacitating it," Victor piped up from the back, attempting to give the illusion he was brave. I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead from where I stood: across the room.

Ah, Mr. Chambers, it's harder to kill a Ragno than you think. They have a very thick husk beneath their hairs that make their skin impenetrable. No weapon made of man may kill it. As for the staff the Slayers carry, that is another story. The unique blade can penetrate its belly. Of course you have to reach it first. That is if you can get past its large and extremely venomous fangs."

Another reason I wanted no part of being a Slayer. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I'd have to remember to ask Antonio if I could get one of those staffs ASAP.

Antonio . . . forget him Evie! I scolded myself mentally. I was standing in a room with a giant spider that was looking at me like I was its next meal. Not to mention I had my arms around Roland like he was my lifeline.

"Since most of us won't be privileged enough to be carrying a staff, the Inabilitara spell would be your only defense against the Ragno."

Figures! A spell I've never tried before would be my saving grace.

"Now, you two take your seats," Ms. Spicer said. "Slowly. We don't want to agitate it. It's just studying you for now."

I gripped Roland tighter—if that were even possible.

"Go on. I have it under the spell now. It can't move." I noted the soft pink glow surrounding it.

"But it wants to," Gillian squeaked.

"Well of course it wants to." Ms. Spicer laughed. "You'd make a tasty snack Miss Brown."

I wasn't moving, and neither would Roland if I had anything to say about it. I spied Gillian up front. She sat stiff in her chair, chalk white, and I was sure she hadn't taken a breath since I'd walked in. My seat was empty beside her, and that's the way it was going to stay.

"I'm not going anywhere near that thing." I spoke firmly, my eyes never leaving the Ragno. It was still watching me, probably planning several different ways to dismember me before draining me dry.

"Oh, very well Miss Hollyander," Ms. Spicer huffed. "You may sit with Mr. Vandenberg in the back." She rolled her eyes as if I was overreacting— I wished! "I'd have thought this would be right up your alleys; potential Slayers and all."

We shuffled slowly to the back of the room. I grabbed a nearby step stool and placed it beside Roland's desk. There was no way I was walking up to the front of the room and sitting next to that thing.

"Now, the first rule with Ragno's," Ms Spicer began cheerfully, " . . . is you never, ever want to place yourself in a position in which you're lower than its eyes. It sees this as a sign of weakness. You'll be lunch before you can even scream for help."

I stopped mid-sit, noting how low the stool was. I decided to stand behind Roland and Victor's seats instead—I could see better anyway.

"Eyes front people!" Honestly, where else would they be? Every freaking eye was on that spider.

"As I said, to incapacitate the Ragno, you must use the Inabilitara spell. It must be performed with precise pronunciation. Let's all practice, shall we? Perfection is essential! There are no second chances with a Ragno."

You could feel the fear emanating throughout the class as we all repeated after Ms. Spicer: "Inabilitara." That was sure a mouthful!

"I must warn. It's an extremely powerful spell that can exhaust the caster. So I suggest, that unless you are confident in your ability to hold the charm," Ms. Spicer's words became dark and foreboding, " . . . don't go walking where angels fear to tread." Sound advice if you asked me.

"What about Slayers?" Victor whispered to Roland. Those beads of sweat on his forehead were glistening down the side of his face.

"Now!" We all jumped in our skins. "Who'd like to try first?" Ms. Spicer asked.

Since no one volunteered, Ms. Spicer had us all stand up, and one by one attempt the spell. She naturally was ready in an instant to intercede if need be. And believe me, the need be!

None of my classmates would have stood a chance up against the Ragno. They were almost instantly drained just attempting the spell. Luckily Ms. Spicer was quick to charm the Ragno after each student failed. Inabilitara was one of the most powerful spells I'd seen. And having lived with George Hollyander, that's saying something! The spider looked ready to pounce at the first opportunity—unfortunately it was my turn.

I shot Roland an anxious look before I made my way to the front of the class.

The Ragno was well aware of my presence. It looked agitated from being zapped by spell after spell. I guess Ms. Spicer wasn't a PETA member.

I stood a good ten feet away from it. My palms were already sweating.

"Alright, Miss Hollyander. On the count of three, I'll release the Ragno. When I see your charm begin to waver, I'll take hold of it once again." Ms. Spicer spoke in a tired voice. I was guessing that the Ragno was wearing on her. Great! Who was going to take over when her charm wavered?

"One. Two. Three!"

"Inabilitara!" My finger pointed firmly at the Ragno. A brilliant orange glow surrounded it immediately, halting the little beast mid-strike.

"Well done Miss Hollyander. I suspect if you had a staff, you'd be able to kill it if you had to." Ms. Spicer was beyond pleased. "And such a strong force you emit, most unusual for a girl of your age."

I walked back to my stool aware of the twenty-five pairs of eyes gawking at me. My charm held strong for the remainder of the class, giving Ms. Spicer a much-needed rest. Apparently casting the spell over and over was not recommended. She was looking a bit green.

"You were amazing!" Roland and Victor gushed as we walked into P.E AKA Slaying class.

My cheeks had to be a healthy shade of pink—I could feel their burn. "Thanks. I still don't know how I did it." I was starting to feel the aftereffects of the charm Ms. Spicer warned us about. My equilibrium was slightly off. I stumbled.

"You okay?" Roland caught my elbow steadying me before I wobbled into a wall.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy. I probably shouldn't have charmed it for so long it being my first time and all. I'm gonna go change. I'll see you guys out there in a few minutes."

"You sure?" Roland hesitated before letting go of me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out there in a minute," I promised before heading into the locker room.

It took me longer than usual to change into my gym clothes. Tying my shoes was particularly hard considering I couldn't focus on the shoelaces. My eyes kept seeing spots. I made my way to the mat just in time for roll call. Gunny was in fine form. His voice bellowed out instructions to the others as if his mouth was a megaphone. I was excused to find Antonio who I assumed was out on the track waiting for me.

I gave Roland a quick smile before I staggered, a little sideways, out the double doors, to the track field.

The fresh air did nothing for me. I felt like I was walking through a haze. Sounds were somewhat muffled and the distinct feeling that I was walking at an angle was starting to freak me out. Antonio was nowhere to be seen.

I started running without him, hoping that the movement might jostle my brain out of the strange fog that seemed to be looming around me. My feet felt like they were someone else's. They were heavy, moving my body slowly around the track until they were no longer moving at all. I collapsed were I stood.

"Evie. Evie, can you hear me?"

My eyes opened slowly. A black silhouette leaned over me. "Can you hear me?" Antonio's voice sounded anxious. His hands pressed lightly against my face, the cool touch, welcoming.

"I can hear you, but I . . . I can't see you very well." It was true. If he hadn't spoken to me, I wouldn't have recognized him.

He lifted me into his arms and carried me across the field. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

Instinctively I drew my arms up around him, taking in the sweet smell of musk he wore. Perhaps I would have recognized him. His scent was all his own. Figures! The only time he held me in his arms and I was too blind to see it. Why couldn't Roland have found me? If I didn't have to endure these close encounters with Antonio, it would make it a heck of a lot easier to forget him.

Antonio's grip stiffened. "Evie, I don't want you to forget—"

"I'm going to be sick!" I jumped out of his arms—luckily diving into a nearby bush. I held my stomach as I heaved my lunch with as much dignity as a kid at a pie-eating contest.

"That's the last time I do that spell," I moaned from inside the foliage.

"What spell?" Antonio was behind me, holding back my hair. Talk about embarrassing. I wanted to die then and there. I tried to wave him away—the smell! He wouldn't go.

"What spell?" he asked again, his voice sounding impatient now.

"In Spells, we had to do an Inabilitara spell on a Ragno," I groaned.

"A real Ragno?" I could hear the panic in his voice. Damn, if those things didn't freak everyone out. And Antonio hadn't even been there!

"Yes." I held my stomach, prepared to heave again.

"Stupid woman," Antonio growled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Did he just call me stupid?

"No." he answered my unspoken question. "Your Spells teacher. She was stupid to bring a live Ragno into class. Let alone allow you to perform spells against it. You aren't strong enough to restrain something that powerful yet."

"I am too! I charmed it for more than half an hour." I boasted smugly. Well, as smugly as I could, considering my head was in a bush, overlooking a puddle of vomit. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it.

"That's not possible! You're too young!"

I huffed. "Well I did. Ask anyone. Ask Roland! He was sitting right next to me."

"No wonder you're deathly ill," Antonio grumbled.

"I'm not 'deathly ill.'" I choked, before purging myself once again.

"Whatever you say." I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

"You really don't have to stay with me." I didn't need his commentary right now. I could die just fine by myself. "Seriously, you don't have to stay." I got to my feet, swaying slightly. Thank heavens my vision was returning. "I can make it back to the dorm. It's not far."

"No. I'm not leaving you until I know you're alright." The fire that burned in his eyes yesterday was back. I still didn't understand it. No one had ever looked at me that way. Not even Roland when he kissed me last night . . .

"Roland kissed you last night?" Antonio asked incredulously.

Damn! I kept forgetting he could hear me. "Yeah, so?" I tried to sound indifferent about the whole thing. What did he care anyway? He was the one who said it couldn't be him—whatever that meant?

"I care a great deal," he retorted.

"Well, don't. I'm just having a schoolgirl crush anyway remember? Something that will fade in a few weeks." I threw his words back at him. "It's not like it's any of your business anyway."

"You are my business," he announced firmly.

"Excuse me? I don't remember you being my dad, or my boyfriend for that matter." I put my hands on my hips, giving the best haughty look I could muster considering I'd just yakked up my entire lunch and possibly breakfast not three feet away from him.

"I may not be your boyfriend Evie, but you are my responsibility." The words came out almost snarled.

I huffed. "So you're training me. Big deal! That's gym class. My personal life is just that. Mine!" I started walking toward the dorm. "I can date whoever the hell I want to," I muttered under my breath.

Antonio caught up to me quickly, yanking me around by the arm. The motion made me want to hurl all over again.

"It's not that simple," he snapped. His eyes looked angry for the first time.

My smile felt more like a sneer. "Hey. You want to be my trainer, fine. But you will not tell me who I can go out with." I removed his hand from my arm and stomped up the steps to the dorm not giving him a second look. Yea Friday!

# Chapter 11

Well, the weekend officially sucked. And not just for me. Half of the junior class was feeling the aftereffects of the Ragno with various degrees of sickness.

Ms. Spicer, who'd been reprimanded for her "serious lack of judgment," was spending the entire weekend in the infirmary, sicker than a dog I'd heard.

"It's lunchtime already?" I whined, realizing that half the day had passed by, and I was still in bed. Iris brought me a bowl of soup from The Kitchen. I'd been in bed for the past nineteen hours, waiting for Death to take me—the jerk never came.

"You look awful."

"Thanks, Iris. It's nice to see you too." I took the soup and sat down in my "comfy chair" to enjoy the only good thing this Saturday afternoon had to offer—chicken noodle.

"Maybe you should go to the infirmary." She eyed me carefully.

"Even if I did, there's no room. Gillian said the entire ward is completely full. They've never had so many sick students at once. They sent her back to her bed to rest. Besides, I'd rather die in my own bed." I leaned my head back against the chair. "It's a good thing not everyone had spells yesterday," I added. "You'd be sick too."

A malicious smile crossed Iris's face. "Stacy's there."

"What? Where?"

"In the infirmary. She got sick all over her lab partner in biology!" Iris squealed over the juicy news. She toppled over on the bed, laughing hysterically.

"She threw up on her lab partner?" Eww. I remembered how close I'd been to throwing up on Antonio. I'd thanked God quietly many times over for sparing me that embarrassment. I almost felt sorry for Stacy. Almost.

"Yeah . . ." Iris cried. She couldn't stop laughing.

The door to my room flung open. "Hey! I've been knocking." Aubree stood in the doorway, glowering.

Okay . . . what's her problem? "Hey Aubree, what's up?"

Iris took one look at Aubree and irrupted into a state of hysteria that would have startled a hyena.

"Is she still laughing about Stacy throwing up?"

I thought about that. It was funny, but not that funny. I shrugged.

"I suppose she told you who the lucky victim was?" Aubree snapped, not bothering to wait for my answer. She folded her arms across her chest in a huff.

I took in the outraged expression on her face and cringed, fearful that I already knew the answer.

Aubree shouted over Iris' laughter. "IT WAS ME!"

"Oh Aubree," Iris cried, wiping tears from her face. "I'm so sorry. I know it's not funny, but I just keep picturing—"

"Here!" Aubree thrust an envelope at me. "I'll see you later." She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I set the soup aside, opened the envelope, and pulled out a small piece of paper.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me!" I jumped to my feet; the sudden adrenaline-rush no doubt due to the instant fury that shot through my veins.

Iris had stopped laughing and sat up. Her eyes, still filled with tears, were wide with shock.

"Sorry," I mumbled at her shaken expression.

I read the note once more, just in case by some miracle I'd misread it. "What the hell is he thinking? He knows I'm sick! The jerk!" I rifled through my dresser drawers and found a clean gym outfit.

"What's going on?" Iris rose from the bed, eying me carefully.

"Antonio!" I growled. "He wants me in the gym right now to make up yesterday's class I missed."

"But you're sick!" Iris shrieked. "And its Saturday . . . we were going to hang out."

I rolled my eyes. "Apparently, Antonio doesn't give a flip if I'm sick. I'll see you later." I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

* * *

I found Antonio in the weight room looking incredibly hot in a tight fitting t-shirt and sweats—the creep. If he thought his good looks were going to get him out of this, he was sadly mistaken. I was going to give him a piece of my mind. I hardened my expression.

"Good, you got my note," he smiled angelically.

I tossed my gym clothes to the floor. Damn! I forgot to brush my hair.

"I see you've already dressed." He eyed my sweats and frumpy t-shirt I'd been wearing for the past two days and smiled.

I pictured at the very least seven different ways I could wipe that smirk off his face. His smile broadened. No doubt Antonio now had a mental picture of just how I'd planned to wipe that smirk off his face. All seven images I'm sure played flawlessly over in his mind. The element of surprise would never be mine.

"Humph." He could at least act like he was nervous.

"Oh, I am." He grinned at my death like stare. My eyes narrowed.

"We need to start working on basic combat maneuvers."

"Today? You couldn't have waited until Monday?" I had my hands on my hips, looking extremely put out. Not to mention un-attractively pasty. But who cared. I was moving on. I was with Roland now . . . I think?

Antonio's cool look was momentarily shaken. "I've increased your training to seven days a week—"

"Seven days a week? But that's going to ruin my whole social life."

"If you hope to pass finals . . . there's no other way. Your . . . 'social life' will have to wait." He stifled a satisfying grin.

I sucked in my cheeks. This just completed the weekend from hell I'd been having. Not only did I have to train while sick, but I also had a rigorous seven-day a week butt-kicking to look forward to.

"You can't be serious." I searched his expression, desperately seeking humor. There was none.

"I am. Now stand here and try to block me."

Try? I was going to knock him on his ass! Not only did he not care that I was still sick, but he expected me to spar with him? Seven days a week? He was so going down!

Antonio's leg came around and swiped under my feet—knocking me on my butt before I could finish my inner rant.

"You weren't even trying!"

"I wasn't ready!" I yelled.

"Then let's try again. This time, why don't you spend more time defending yourself instead of plotting my demise." There was an arrogant look about him, which was very un-Antonio like. Or was it? Maybe he'd just been pretending to be nice? Whatever, It was his turn to eat mat.

I braced myself. There was no way he was going to do that—

Boom!

I was starting to become familiar with the ceiling in the gym. We'd gone over the same move a half a dozen times now, and each time I'd ended up on my back, staring at the same light fixture. How in the world had someone managed to paint the word "HI" on the ceiling?

"Again!" Antonio shouted, bringing me out of my quiet place. He wasn't even breaking a sweat. I honestly didn't know why he'd kept doing the same move over and over? I obviously wasn't getting it!

"That's why we're doing it over and over. And we'll keep doing it until you do get it," he added sharply.

"What's your problem?" I snapped, as I rose to my feet.

"What are you talking about?" He had the nerve to look meek.

"I mean, what's this really about?" I held my arms out, motioning to the training room. "Why are you pushing me so hard?"

"I told you. You need extra practice. It's nothing more than that."

"Really?" Now, I may not know a lot about the way guys think, but I believe it's safe to assume, that when a guy hauls your sick butt out of bed and says it's because you need "extra training" that can't wait . . . he's probably full of crap.

I was just about ready to call the bullshit card when Antonio dropped to the floor, and swung his leg around, taking me out with one swipe. Again! Only this time I landed on my stomach.

I tried to flip around fast, my legs getting tangled up with his. I reached out, blocking his arms from restraining me. Somehow, I found myself on top of him, straddling him awkwardly. I could feel the hot burn of flush, branding my face. I'd never been in such a position with a boy before. I didn't know if it was embarrassment, or excitement I felt? I did know that being this close to Roland would not stir such an emotion inside me. Damn if I wasn't confused. And why was Antonio looking at me as if I was his next breath?

Antonio's hands were on my waist, gripping it tightly. His eyes smoldered like the embers in a fire, bright and beautiful. "Focus!" he growled below me, his expression hardening. For a moment I thought he was scolding himself.

With skilled precision, he'd gripped my wrists with one hand, and held the side of my neck with the other. I couldn't break free. A small flame rose inside me. I felt mad all of a sudden. I mean really mad. His hold was firm—too firm. It freaked me out. I'd never been restrained like this, and I didn't like it.

Antonio flipped me onto my back, and just like that, our roles were reversed. He was straddling me now. My wrists were slammed against the mat, the weight of his body pressing hard against them. He'd won!

Antonio was leaning over me, his face inches from mine. His brown hair, now tussled, hung loosely around his face. His breathing was loud and uneven like my own. But his wasn't due to exerting himself. There was a hunger in his eyes as he watched me struggle beneath him. His gaze settled on my lips.

He wanted to kiss me; I knew it! It was just like on the track field, only now Antonio looked as if he wanted this kiss even more. No matter how much he tried to hide it, here, close like this, his body touching mine, the desire was unmistakable. I'd seen it in movies a hundred times.

Now, this could have been considered intimate if it weren't for the sudden "gotcha" look on Antonio's face. Was he toying with me? My eyes narrowed. Rage emanated from every fiber of my being. Embarrassment claimed me once again. Why did he have to keep making me think he liked me? I growled mentally. Game over. I didn't care how much I wanted to kiss this guy. I wanted him off me and I wanted him off now!

Antonio flew back. His body crashing into a nearby wall with such force, his eyes crossed for a moment before he slid down it, landing on the floor in a dazed heap.

I stared at him in disbelief as I scrambled to my feet. I held my hands as they shook. I wasn't sure I could even speak. "Did I . . . do . . . that?" The words came out broken.

Antonio rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his head as he walked back over to me.

I backed away from him. Afraid I might hurt him again.

"I want you to do it again," he commanded lightly.

"What? No! Get away from me!" I shrugged away from his outstretched arms.

"Evie."

"I mean it, Antonio. Stay away from me. I don't want to hurt you." I meant it. I'd been mad at him for playing with me, but there had to be something seriously wrong with me. Either I just imagined that I threw Antonio across the room with my mind, or I really did. Either way, I was cracking up.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Evie." He spoke with such certainty, I almost believed him—almost. Did he just miss me throwing him across the room at warp speed?

He grinned, no doubt having heard my thoughts. Antonio turned his attention to a punching bag that lay in a corner across the room. My eyes followed. Without warning, Antonio had the bag flying at me.

Too shocked to move, I stood there. Waiting for the bag to collide with me and knock me into next week. It stopped short, dropping with a thud at my feet.

No. Freaking. Way! "That did not just happen." I'd done small things like setting off the sprinklers, or tripping that busboy so he'd dump that plate of spaghetti on Stacy. I could even magic little items around me. But thrusting an object that heavy across the room at full speed and stopping it instantaneously? I'd never seen anything like it—not even me stopping that book mid-air, when Stacy had flung it at me.

"It's the same idea," Antonio promised. "Now, send it back."

I stared at Antonio as if he'd spoke in a different language. "Did you just ask me to send it back?"

"I know you can do it. You're stronger than you think." A look of excitement claimed him.

I thought about that. "Even if I could, why would I want to? What's the point?"

"Being able to move heavy objects with your mind has its advantages; especially in the Underworld."

"Like I'll ever be going there," I pointed out sharply.

Antonio's excitement slipped from his face.

Why was he looking at me like that? And why did I have the sickened feeling that Antonio knew something I didn't? "Right?" My voice cracked. "Why would I ever be going there?"

He smiled. Not the dreamy, Antonio smile that made me want to eat him up for dessert, but a sympathetic smile. One that said: you poor thing, if you only knew. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. We'll pick up on this again tomorrow." He started walking away.

I stood there, looking after him. He didn't mean to "imply anything?" Was he kidding? This had nothing to do with finals. There was something going on and Antonio was going to tell me. One way or another, I was going to find out what he was hiding.

"But not today, Darling," He shouted over his shoulder, still walking away.

I hated that he eavesdropped on my personal conversations in my head. I hated it even more that he knew something I didn't.

I glowered at the punching bag that lay still at my feet. With little more thought than I used to collapse Stacy's desk, I lifted the bag and hurtled it over Antonio's head, stopping him short. He spun around; his eyes were as wide with surprise as mine.

"What else do you need me to do?" I breathed, afraid to doubt him now—I'd just hurled a punching bag through the air using my mind after all! If there was even the slightest chance Antonio was right, that I was going into the Underworld, I wanted to be prepared.

# Chapter 12

We spent the next several weeks training. Antonio and I met before school now as well. He was trying to make the most of the time we had left before finals. I, however, secretly hoped it was because he was madly in love with me and couldn't stand being away from me—wishful thinking on my part. If Antonio was in love with me, he wasn't going to let me know about it. I'd sure like to read his mind for a change.

Antonio ran me to death. Pushed my body beyond its limits in the weight room, and my mind . . . well . . . he was pushing that too. He had me throwing objects as fast as he did now. The point of all this . . . who knew? But something told me it unfortunately had to do with that little trip to Hell Antonio had hinted about. Could my life possibly suck anymore?

* * *

"Evie, I haven't seen you in days." Iris was in her usual mood—worried about everything! "The dance is next Friday and Roland said he doesn't even know if he still has a date, or not. He hasn't gotten to spend any time with you outside of class."

"What do you mean he doesn't know if he has a date or not? I told him yes!"

I hoped he was still taking me to the dance. My dad had a dress shipped a week and a half ago. I opened my closet and pulled out a garment bag. I still hadn't let any of the girls see it yet. I tried it on when it arrived and it fit like a dream. Aside from that, I hadn't taken it out of the bag. I wasn't about to get my first prom dress dirty before I had a chance to wear it. I hung the bag back on the hook and closed the closet door.

"It's not like anyone's had a chance to talk to you lately," Iris continued, not skipping a beat. She actually looked hurt.

"Iris, I'm sorry. I don't have a choice. There are only two months left before my field trials." What started as a defensive response, turned out sounding desperate: I really had no idea how I was going to pass those tests. Along with Antonio's private instruction, Gunny had a sick sense of humor and thought it was time to throw me into the mix with the rest of the guys. Lots of protesting moans filled the room that day—the guys complained too.

"Well, you're free tomorrow, right?" Iris interrupted my mental pity-party.

"Tomorrow?"

"Remember? Gina Von Rotmund is coming to announce the volleyball players that will go on to the Junior Division's team!" Iris squealed excitedly. "She's even bringing several of the star players! I heard Vlad's going to be here, too!"

Iris was in near hysterics now. Not that I blamed her. Vlad Smirnov was the hunkiest hunk that ever graced the cover of Mageian Beach Volleyball. He was twenty-two. Blonde, blue-eyed, and all man! Dang! I'd spent so much time in that gym the last few weeks I'd missed all the playoff games.

I was glad however, that Iris' mood had perked up. Mine wasn't so glum anymore either. This event had been the talk of the school for the past three weeks. Many of the wannabe Slayers were so psyched up about it they could hardly concentrate in gym. Every one of them aspired to make the team and go on to be world famous players—they weren't fooling me. Every one of these guys had visions of hot bikini-tanned girls fawning all over them.

"Yeah, I'll be there," I said. With the rest of the female population, drooling!

I left Iris for my after-school-practice. All the guys were there now. With only two months to go, everyone was on edge, desperate to push their bodies to the limit. They wanted to be Slayers so badly; you could taste it in the air. That and boy sweat—gross!

"Hollyander!"

I jumped. I'd been practicing my round-kicks on a punching bag and missed my target completely; thanks to Gunny's sneak approaches. That man could make the dead jump!

"I want you over there with Bixby."

"Sir?" There was no way he was pairing me up with Chad the Neanderthal. No way. No. Freaking. Way.

"Close your mouth Hollyander and move your butt!"

"But—" I met Gunny's unwavering stare and slumped. There was no point arguing. Chad: the jerk, looked smug. I was so going to give him the whooping he deserved. I strode up to him, glowering.

"You want a piece of this, Hollyander?" he asked with smug confidence. "Come and get it!"

Chad's face had a smirk that desperately needed to be wiped off. Antonio's star move came to mind. I dropped to the floor and swiped my leg against his, knocking his butt to floor. Taking advantage of the dazed look on his face, I locked my legs around his neck, and smashed his head into the mat once more. OORAH!

"Nice work Hollyander!" Gunny boomed. "Bixby, maybe you should work with Thompson. Thompson! What in the hell are you doing boy? Get your pansy ass over here, this isn't free time!"

I released Chad, jumped up and backed away quickly. He looked livid.

"Try that again," he growled stalking toward me.

"I'd love to, but I can only bring myself to kick one mentally challenged Neanderthal's butt a day." I smiled sympathetically. "Sorry."

"Bixby!" Gunny hollered.

"Don't be too hard on Thompson, it's not his fault you got your best side handed to you by a girl." I smiled impishly before skipping over to Antonio. Who by the way, was smiling like a proud papa.

"Did you see me kick Chad's butt?" I squealed excitedly, jumping up for a high five!

"The whole gym did. You were amazing!" He slapped my hand.

Amazing . . . I was amazing! I could be an amazing kisser too if someone would only practice with me. Like, let's say . . . two times a day . . . seven days a week? If only Antonio wasn't such a stick-in-the-mud. I mean, I acted much older than I was. Roland certainly thought so.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Damn! He'd been listening again.

Antonio just shook his head, trying hard to suppress a laugh. I hated it when he eavesdropped. If only there was some way for me to block him . . .?

"Come on. You have laps to run." He jerked his head to the side, motioning to the double doors that led to the track field.

I huffed loudly, storming past him. "Men! They can't even let you savor a victory!"

"Hey Evie!" Roland raced up behind me, taking me up in his arms, and swinging me around. "Damn girl, you were hot, kicking Chad's pride to the floor."

I blushed. No one had ever said I was "hot" . . . I kinda liked it. The large smile that hung on my face was not leaving anytime soon. Funny, why did Antonio look so pissed? Roland was just being sweet. I liked sweet. Besides, Antonio sure wasn't campaigning for the boyfriend job!

"So, do you have an escort for the announcement dinner?" Roland glanced to Antonio, as if sizing him up, before looking back to me.

"Escort? No, do I need one?" Iris never said we had to have an escort for the award ceremony.

"Hell yeah! Unless you want every guy here knocking on your door," Roland nudged me playfully with his elbow.

I looked around the room. Chad and Thompson were sparring. Well, Chad was.

Thompson was doing his best not to get his butt kicked. Victor had Wyatt in a headlock, giving him a world-class noogie—dorks. And John was picking his nose—eww!

No way. I did not want them knocking on my door. Hell no!

"I just thought since you agreed to go to the dance with me," Roland began, "that you might—"

"I'll take you."

Roland and I looked at Antonio simultaneously.

"What?" My voice cracked. Did Antonio just say he wanted to take me?

"I'll take you." His tone was firm. Authoritative. Man he made my heart flutter.

"We'll just be finishing up practice. I'll walk you over after," he shrugged, indifferent to the whole thing.

"Well, I don't want you to put yourself out," I grumped. Jeez. Don't do me any favors. Don't act like you really want to take me, or anything.

"I'm not." Antonio said, answering my spoken and mental thoughts. "I'll be heading that way myself. It's no big deal. I'll take you. Now come on. You still have laps to run and you have practice." He gave Roland a long look that screamed, get lost!

Roland's brave façade faltered. "I'll catch you later, Evie," he said, giving me a quick wink before he retreated.

I turned back to Antonio. He'd already gone out onto the track field.

"Hey!" I had to run hard to catch up with him. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

Who was he kidding, playing innocent? "Roland. You practically back-handed him for asking me out!"

"You're imagining things." He continued on, not breaking his stride.

"Well if that's the case, I'll just run back in there and let Roland know I'm available after all." Who knows, I might get kissed again.

Antonio skidded to a halt, grabbing my arm as I threatened to pass.

"You're not having dinner with him. Or doing anything else he has planned in that hormonal mind of his."

"How do you know what he has planned? You read his mind too?" I scoffed. I knew Antonio could read my thoughts but . . . Wait! "What does he have planned?" What had Antonio's panties in a wad?

"They are not in a wad! And I do not wear panties!" He spat each word with disgust.

Interesting . . . I wonder if he wears . . .

"Stop that! You shouldn't be curious about such things. You're too young!"

"Too young?" I was not too young. I was practically seventeen—almost a grown-up. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment that he'd once again heard my wondering thoughts.

"Until you are, grown-up that is," he held back a snicker. "We'll keep our conversations G-rated."

My mouth dropped open. I gave him my best haughty look, complete with hands on the hips. "I'll have you know that in some cultures women my age are married; even having children!" Not that I wanted any of that, but hell, I was grown-up; even though I wasn't experienced in such matters.

I stomped my foot for effect. I'd seen my mother do that with my father when she wanted to get her point across, so I knew this was a very grown-up thing to do. Right? Besides, a child wouldn't have kissed Roland the way I had. And he obviously didn't consider me a child.

"Like I said, you won't be attending the Awards with Roland; or doing anything else with him for that matter."

I scoffed. "You can't tell me who to date!"

"Actually, I can." He said this with unmistakable authority.

Oh no. He did not just tell me he's the boss of me. I'd punched guys for less. The thought of damaging Antonio's gorgeous face didn't sit well, but it was for the greater good. No guy was going to tell me what to do. Ever!

"I'd re-think this if I were you," he warned, not taking me seriously as a threat.

"Bring it." I started circling him like a lioness about to pounce on its prey. He smiled, and joined in the dance.

"Evie, I'm just looking out for you," he began. "You don't know boys like I do. Roland isn't as nice as you think. He won't be satisfied with just kissing."

"Quit trying to distract me. You don't even know him." I started narrowing my circle.

"I know that your father wouldn't like this either."

"What do you know about what my father would or wouldn't like?" I growled, before I sucker kicked him in the gut.

Antonio sucked in a breath of air and released it slowly. Otherwise, he was completely unaffected. I should have known. The guy was rock hard. If I were going to take him down, I'd have to be creative.

"So it's going to be like that is it?" He recovered and used an oldie but goodie. A blunt kick to the thigh, sending me sailing several yards back.

I really hated grass stains. My eyes narrowed as he approached.

Antonio extended his hand to me. "I'm sorry Evie, but you had it coming. I didn't want to hurt you but—oof!"

Right in the sweet spot, baby! Ten points for Evie! I leaned back on my elbows waiting for Antonio to stop rolling around on the ground beside me. Boys were such babies. Honestly, a kick to the nads shouldn't be this dramatic.

"That. Was. Uncalled for," he breathed, still sucking air.

"That was for being bossy! Besides, in battle, everything is fair game."

"Ahahh!" Antonio had me pinned. He'd flipped me over, and had my arms behind my back, face-planting me into the grass.

"What are you doing?" I squirmed under his weight.

"Stopping you from inflicting any more harm," he growled. "Or doing anything stupid. You're going to listen to meeeee—" His voice trailed off as he flew backward in the air.

I turned over, spitting grass from my lips. Antonio lay on his back a good thirty feet away. I hadn't even needed eye contact that time. "I'd listen but I can't hear you way over there," I shouted as I rose to my feet. "Maybe you shouldn't have taught me how to throw all those bags around." I turned on my heel and strode off toward the gym. I had a date to make.

# Chapter 13

"What are we supposed to be doing again?" Iris propped her head in her hands, her eyes fixated on the angry little face staring back at her.

I glanced around nervously. We were smack in the center of Ms. Powell's Fundamentals of Magic Class, surrounded by demons from hell. Well, surrounded might be an exaggeration. We were put into pairs and each one of us looked at our assignments with pale and extremely panicked expressions.

"We're supposed to offer it something in trade for a secret," I said. "They're like little fortune tellers. Ask it anything you want to know, but be prepared to pay for it." My dad had told me stories about pixies when I was little. He said they are ruthless, cunning, and greedy. But, they hold great knowledge . . . and are happy to share it . . . for a price.

"I thought pixies were supposed to be cute and sweet." The little beast stuck her tongue out at Iris. Iris huffed in disbelief. "Did you see that?"

A high-pitched scream from across the room diverted my attention. Christina and Marissa, AKA Stacy's Witch Squad, were in the process of removing one of the little devils from Christina's hair. It was yanking out tufts of dingy blonde and tossing them to the floor.

I turned back to our assignment and found it was grinning. A large lump formed in my throat. Suddenly, "playing" with a Ragno didn't sound so bad.

Iris leaned toward me. "They're not very nice, are they?" she stated the obvious.

I stiffened. "Quiet. She's listening to you. You'll hurt her feelings." I glanced back at Christina, who was still wailing and slightly balder looking. Ms. Powell had joined in the efforts to untangle the little menace.

Iris nudged my arm. "Maybe we can offer ours a hair brush?"

That earned us a hiss. The pixie was glowering at us, shaking its little fists wildly.

"I think she likes her hair the way it is, Iris." I scooted my chair back slightly. This little ball of fury could erupt at any moment.

"Maybe she doesn't have such things," Iris whispered into my ear. Her eyes, still fixed on the demon from Hell.

I thought about that. An idea struck me. I reached for my purse and dug through it. I pulled out a silver barrette embellished with crystals.

The little beast's eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. I tilted the barrette this way and that, letting the light reflect off the stones. The pixie stuck her tongue out and licked her lips. She wanted it. Bad!

"It's pretty, isn't it? Just like you." I nearly choked on the lie! The little beast was as ugly as sin, but whatever. I had a question to ask, one that had been weighing on my mind since the other day. Antonio had implied something and who better to ask than a fortuneteller?

"This would look lovely in your hair," I lied, continuing to bait the hook.

The pixie stood up. She was only five inches tall, but from what I'd just witnessed with Christina's, they could pack quite a punch. I had to tread lightly.

"I'd like to offer you this," I tilted the barrette again, allowing the light to touch it. Rainbows danced on my desk, and on the walls around us. Her black little eyes gleamed with excitement.

"What do you wish to know?"

"It spoke!" Iris gasped.

It spoke. Not a deep raspy voice like you might have expected from such a nasty looking creature, but a high soprano; a siren's call. No wonder the pixie is one of the most feared creatures in the Underworld. They could, and did, lure unsuspecting Mageia to their death. Hell, they were freaking neighbors with the Lord of the Underworld himself! He probably had them over for weekend barbeques!

"Anything?" I questioned. I'd have to be careful not to let her trick me.

She smiled a wicked smile. "Anything."

I tilted the barrette between my fingers, watching her eyes all the while. I could see the desperation in them. She could barely stand it.

"Alright. Why must I go to the Underworld?"

Iris choked beside me. "Evie!"

The pixie's grin stretched across her face. "Smart one you are," it sang. "You will go willingly into Hell. The love for your father will bring you."

My heart stilled. What did she mean the love for my father would bring me? What did he have to do with me taking a trip south? "You're lying!" I accused her. Although I knew she spoke the truth. I could hear it in her voice. The indisputable ring of truth, that coated the words of a pixie. Ironic! They looked like the most-untrustworthy creatures ever to darken the planet.

"A pixie never lies! Especially when making a trade," it hissed insulted by the suggestion. "You will go willingly into Hell," she repeated insistently. "The love for your father will bring you."

I handed her the clip.

The pixie snatched it greedily and placed it in her hair before strutting across our tabletop, like a runway model. The other female pixies stared at her with envy—she basked in it.

I however, tried not to stare at the oversized bling perched on her head. She looked ridiculous. It looked more like a giant tiara than a dainty barrette.

"I am feeling generous today." She turned and faced me once again. "I will allow you to ask me one other question."

I stared at her in disbelief. Was this a trick?

"No payment will be expected," she explained seeing my hesitation.

Alright, here goes: "Will I return . . . with my father . . . the both of us, alive?" I had no idea why I was playing along. Of course it was ridiculous. There was no way my dad was hanging out in the Underworld waiting for sixteen-year-old Evelyn Hollyander to rescue him. The very idea was crazy. So why did I dread her answer?

"Evie, I don't understand why . . ." Iris's voice seemed to drift off. My focus was on the pixie before me.

"He will not let you go . . . Child of Light."

What in the hell was she talking about, a "Child of Light?" "Who won't let me go?" And why was she calling me the "Child of Light?"

The pixie grinned. "Ah, but that was not the question I am to answer."

"So it isn't." My eyes narrowed at the sneaky little bugger. Yeah? Well, I could be sneaky too.

"Alright then, will the 'Child of Light' return with my father?" Two questions in one: Who was this Child of Light? And, if it is in fact me, then would I rescue my dad from Hell? I couldn't believe I was having this conversation.

The pixie suddenly looked uncertain. "That has not been decided yet." Her head tilted to the side, her eyes searching me . . . for what I didn't know.

"What do you mean it hasn't been decided yet? I thought pixies knew everything?

That earned me a smile; and apparently a reward: "A Child of Light is a key. It opens the gates so demons may be free."

Crap! That wasn't the answer I'd been looking for. In fact, it screamed no! As in I would not be returning from Hell! My dad! I jumped to my feet. "I have to go." I gathered my things, tossing them into my pack.

"Evie, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry Iris, I'll explain later."

"Miss Hollyander?"

"I'm sorry Ms. Powell, I'm not feeling well. I have to go."

"Farewell . . . Child of Light." The little pixie waved after me. "Until we meet again."

I shuddered. I knew it was a cliché, but I felt as though someone had just walked over my grave.

I rushed out the door. There was only one person I needed to talk to right now. I dug through my purse and pulled out my cell phone and dialed. "Come on . . . answer!" Damn! Why wasn't my dad picking up? He was not in Hell! I growled mentally. No way! I closed the phone for a moment before I thought to call Miles. I flipped it open again and hit speed-dial.

"Miles! Where's my father?" I didn't bother with pleasantries. I got right to the point. I listened quietly for what seemed like ages.

"How long has he been gone?" The lump in my throat had grown to the size of a baseball. I could hear the uneasiness in his voice. Very un-Miles like. He was attempting to comfort me when I snapped my phone shut. I didn't even remember saying goodbye to him.

My dad was missing. Miles hadn't heard from him in over a week. This was so not good. Miles was my dad's right hand man. If he didn't know where he was . . . no one did.

But, that wasn't exactly true. That little pixie piece-of-crap knew where he was. And Antonio! He was the one to first hint that I would be heading into the Underworld in the first place. Did he know my dad was missing too and didn't tell me?

"Miss. Hollyander?"

I spun around. Ms. Leech was standing in front of me, her violet eyes tight with concern. Violet? Weird. I thought her eyes were brown?

"Excuse me Ms. Leech, but I have to go." I tried to maneuver around her but she stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

"What seems to be the trouble Miss. Hollyander?" Her words were soft and even, almost soothing.

"My dad—"

"Is fine," she insisted calmly. "Your dad . . . is fine."

"He is?"

"Of course," Ms. Leech assured with a smile. Smile?

"But the pixie said—"

"There is no pixie." The words, more hypnotic now, felt indisputable. "Why don't you run along now, Miss Hollyander? All is fine."

"All is fine," I repeated the words mentally and headed off to Biology. Not a care in the world . . .

* * *

"I didn't expect to see you in class." Iris plopped down beside me.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I still felt dazed from my encounter with Ms. Leech. Seeing her smile must have messed with my head. I felt all groggy and mush-like.

"Hello . . . the Pixie's ominous fortune." Iris rolled her eyes. "You might have warned me you were planning a trip to Hell."

What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Attention everyone," Mr. Mayer called the class to order. "As you're all aware, the awards ceremony for the Junior Division Volleyball Team will be held tonight at seven o'clock in the gym. Our class will be in charge of setting up the decorations!"

A soft roar echoed throughout the room.

"Ms. Leech . . ." Mr. Mayer continued, his voice managing to shout over the commotion, " . . . has asked us to place honeysuckle all around the stage, creating a soft, and inviting atmosphere for our guests." The very words "soft and inviting" seemed strange coming out of Mr. Mayer's mouth. He was tall and block shaped, and rumored to have been an indestructible force on the football field.

"We're growing decorations now?" Iris sounded unusually excited.

What was wrong with her? This was one field I totally sucked at—I did not have a green thumb. It wasn't like I wanted one either. The only high point to this assignment was that I wouldn't have to be digging in real dirt–which was absolutely gross if anyone asked me. I slumped in my chair. Biology certainly had a way of sucking the life out of anyone!

"In an orderly manner please," Mr. Mayer instructed. "No running along the path. Make your way over to the gym and begin with the Megalonoun spell. You should all know that one fluently by now."

Yeah, right. "Fluently." I rolled my eyes. This must have been how Iris felt when she had to light that candle.

"I'd have thought you'd be on the phone, looking for your dad right now?" Iris walked beside me, even more enthusiastic than the rest of the class. Although, I was pretty sure their enthusiasm came from being out of the classroom, and had nothing to do with the project at hand. Iris however was beyond giddy.

"Why would you think I'd be on the phone with my dad?" I finally answered her. What the heck was she blabbering about?

"Evie. Did you and I talk to the same pixie or not?"

"Pixie?" Pixie? Great. Iris was seeing pixies now? The girl had finally lost it. I mean: she was excited about growing plants!

Once inside the gym I spotted Antonio already setting up chairs for the ceremony. He glanced over at me and smiled.

"Evie!" Iris was standing in front of me, her hands firmly on her hips. "The pixie said your father had been taken."

"What are you talking about? What pixie?" Iris was starting to worry me now. She turned and put her hands out, palms down and muttered Megalonoun. Honeysuckle grew from the floor and stretched its curling vines of yellow flowers and fragrance up the stairway to the stage.

I stared wide-eyed at her. "Iris, that's amazing!" And I meant it.

"Thanks." She smiled excitedly. "I've always been good with plants. It's the only thing I am good at," she muttered under her breath.

I thought about that and wondered if I'd have a special talent like Iris?

So," she blurted. "What about the pixie?"

I sighed and decided to play along. "Why would a pixie say my father's been taken?"

"Because you asked her!" Iris snapped. She was clearly annoyed with me now. Why? What did I do? I wasn't the one seeing pixies for crap sake!

"Iris. Everything's fine." I spoke calmly, meeting the stares of several classmates who were now looking over at us. Okay, now, where were the people with the straight-jackets . . .?

"Fine!" Iris stomped her foot. "Denial is not going to help you, Evie." She tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder and stormed away to work on the other side of the stage.

I certainly hoped I didn't look as immature when stomping my foot. What the heck was Iris' problem anyway? And why would she say my father's been taken? Why would a pixie even say that? They're creatures of the Underworld! How would a pixie know my father's been taken unless . . .

I sucked in a breath of air. That sinking feeling you get when you feel like you're forgetting something important but can't remember had just swallowed me whole. I held my head with my hands, the sensation of a thousand needles stabbing my brain, overtook me.

"Evie, what's wrong?" I turned toward Antonio. His eyes were wide with alarm. He reached out, his hands settling on my shoulders.

"I don't know," I winced. My eyes kept going in and out of focus. There was something I needed to ask him, something important. But my thoughts were fragmented. "I can't remember." Tears leaked out the corner of my eyes, clearing my vision.

"Vandenberg!"

I jumped.

Gunny stood behind me—shouting as usual. "You're not supposed to be in here, get back to class. Hollyander isn't eye candy!"

I looked around. Roland was standing in the corner of the gym, his eyes fixed on me. What was he doing here, I thought he had math this period?

Roland didn't budge, and his expression became more sinister as his lips curled up into a smile.

I blanched. That smile reminded me of the one Ms. Leech had given me before Biology. Ms. Leech! I could feel my eyes growing wider with realization.

"Evie?" Antonio shook my shoulders slightly, bringing me back to attention.

"My father's in trouble," I blurted out just as Roland began walking toward us, his body seeming to grow taller as he neared.

I started backing away. Roland's eyes blazed violet. Dark scales emerged and covered the smooth skin of the arms that once held me. His blonde hair had turned to black—although calling it hair was a stretch. His head had completely scaled over, and gone were any traces of that cute boyish face all the girls fawned over.

Screams echoed around us as kids scattered. Their footsteps resounding like a stampede across the wooden floor.

Antonio jumped in front of me, a silver staff suddenly appearing in his hand. Where did he even get that? He pressed a button, and two blades shot out of both ends.

My mouth popped open. There was no way that weapon would be school approved.

"Evie, stay behind me," Antonio shouted over his shoulder.

Roland, if you could still call him that, had transformed into a . . . what the hell was he? A gargoyle? "Roland was a freaking gargoyle?"

I guess I didn't have a date for the dance after all. Crap. I was really looking forward to wearing that dress. What was wrong with me? Roland had transformed into a beast from Hell and I was worried about a dress? I so needed to prioritize.

Antonio moved like lightning, colliding with Roland mere inches from me. The blade of his staff struck Roland deep in the thigh. A loud ear-piercing roar ripped through the already panicked screams of the fleeing students.

Staying behind Antonio proved to be impossible. He and Roland were all over the place. Roland was desperately trying to push past Antonio, slowly advancing my way.

Gunny had joined the fight, taking brutality to a whole new level. He pulled a knife that looked like something "Rambo" might use from a pocket in his pants—a piece of Roland flew across the floor a second later.

I could taste the vomit in my mouth. Roland shrieked—almost as loud as I did—his claw-like hand had landed with a thud against my foot.

I screamed, jumping away from the body part.

Large black wings unfolded out of nowhere from Roland's back. How the hell had I missed those? They were huge! Not to mention the saliva-dripping fangs that snapped inches from Antonio's neck.

"Uhhuh!" I'd kissed that mouth before.

Roland lunged in my direction, but Antonio was quick to defend me, his staff coming down on Roland's forearm. I watched in horror as the blade cut through the scales, yellow liquid spewing from the wound.

Gunny and Antonio fought with skilled precision. There was no way I could be a Slayer. Not with all the training on the planet could I be that fast and agile—Gunny had just delivered a blow to the side of Roland's face—courtesy of a wicked left kick—and my dad did this for a living?

Gunny was good, really good. But Antonio was better. Roland lunged at him several times, only to meet the point of Antonio's staff.

Roland roared out. The sound reverberated through the gym I covered my ears, wincing in pain.

"Evie!" Iris appeared beside me yanking my arm, pulling me toward the door and out of the building.

"Iris, we can't leave them!" I said as she began to pull me toward the grass.

"Ahahh!" We screamed as debris rained down on top of our heads. Roland, well Gargoyle Roland, had crashed through the doors after us. Splinters flew like small wooden swords, pricking us as they descended.

Roland's violet eyes searched . . . until they fixed on me once again. He roared an unholy sound.

Thankfully, Antonio was right on his heels.

New screams could be heard from the students that had been outside the gym as the sight of Roland sent them fleeing in opposite directions.

"I changed my mind Iris, run!" I didn't have to tell Iris twice. She was already sprinting down the path. Why she wasn't on the track team, I didn't know. She was lightning fast!

I didn't care if I looked like a coward. Being ripped to shreds wasn't on my self-preservation list.

A loud roar halted my retreat. I spun around as Antonio struggled to stay on Roland's back. In one fluid movement, he whirled his staff around and planted it firmly in the middle of Roland's head. Roland collapsed, lying motionless on the ground as yellow goo oozed from the wound.

I held my breath as I took a step toward them. My eyes searched for any sign of life. I would bolt in a heartbeat if I saw so much as a twitch from that thing Roland had become.

Antonio slipped from the dead carcass. His chest heaved in and out with exhaustion. He ran his hand through his hair, brushing it back while small beads of sweat clung to his forehead. He looked around frantically amongst the droves of cowering students, his eyes finally settling on me.

"Evie!" He looked overjoyed to see me. He'd quickly closed the gap between us. His strong hands cupped my face affectionately as he looked me over, making sure I was free of injury. Thank the heavens. The last was meant for my ears only, I was sure of it.

"Antonio . . .?" There were so many questions. I didn't know where to start.

"Shhh." He wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me into the warmth of his body. I savored it, listening to the steady pounding of his heart.

"There'll be plenty of time for questions. For now, you are safe." There was definite relief in his voice. I hated to spoil the mood.

"Antonio. That thing tried to kill me, didn't it?"

"Yes." He gripped me tighter, as if the very act protected me from further assault.

"Did it take my father?"

I could feel the protective shield weakening as his arms released their hold. He stepped back a little, providing a full view of his troubled face.

"No."

"But how do you know that? He's a Gargoyle!" I knew I was stating the obvious but damn, someone had to.

"A gargoyle isn't capable of delivering someone like your father into the Underworld. Something much more powerful is behind this."

"So my father is in the Underworld?" I said frantically. Tears were already pooling in my eyes. I knew the answer before I'd even asked him, but somehow, I wouldn't believe it unless Antonio spoke the words. Somehow I knew that Antonio had the answers I sought.

"Yes," he admitted flatly.

"But, how did you . . .?" I started to question him, but stopped. It didn't matter how he knew. Like he said, there would be time for questions later. There was a more pressing matter that needed to be addressed.

"Will you help me get him back?" I couldn't believe I was asking him to do this. Of course he was going to tell me no. Maybe even hell no. Who in their right mind would willingly go into the pits of Hell to rescue some girl's dad? Especially when he regarded that girl as "too young" and completely un-datable. How romantic would that be?

"It will be my honor." Antonio bowed his head slightly. "Come." He said as he laced his fingers with mine. "We have much to prepare."

# Chapter 14

"Hold it, lovebirds!"

"Lovebirds?" I wish.

Antonio gripped my hand tighter.

"Would someone like to tell me how the hell that piece of crap got into this school?" Gunny, slightly out of breath, was still able to bellow loud enough for all to hear. His attention, fixed on the two of us, was pointing at Roland—the "piece of crap."

"I don't know, Sir." Antonio stepped closer to Gunny, taking me along with him. "Evie appears to have been the target. Her father suspected an attack. That's why he sent her, and me here as well. He felt she'd be better protected."

I looked at Antonio in disbelief. "My father sent you to protect me?"

He managed a nod.

"Humph! I knew there was a reason you asked to train her. Why didn't you tell me George made you her Guardian?" Antonio was my Guardian? Gunny eyed Antonio carefully, his stare dropping to our hands locked together. I shifted uncomfortably, but Antonio tightened his grip. He was completely unaffected by Gunny's disapproving look.

"I wasn't supposed to alert anyone to the real reason I was here," Antonio explained. "My job was to protect Evie, if the need arose. It was my vow to her father." His vow?

Gunny nodded his head in understanding. It was probably some sort of Slayer lingo I wasn't in on yet.

"George always knew who to put his faith in," Gunny stated. "Good thing to. I'll have to dispatch a search party to find my . . ." Gunny fake coughed, " . . . Slayers."

I didn't envy his "Slayers." Not one bit. Gunny looked ready to kick some serious butt. I was just glad it wasn't mine.

"What has happened here?" Ms. Leech had arrived on scene, standing over what used to be Roland Vandenberg—although the beast showed no outward signs of the blonde, blue-eyed hunk that had once dominated the hot-o- meter.

Ms. Leech's face looked fierce as ever. "Such a pity." She reached down and caressed the side of the gargoyle's face with the back of her hand. "Roland was such an accomplished young man, so many prospects." Her narrow eyes fixed on me. "You seem to wreak havoc wherever you go Miss Hollyander."

I was so grossed out by her touching the scaly beast that I said the first thing that came to mind: "Perhaps we can overlook this?" I smiled hopefully, remembering her earlier leniency with the sprinklers.

"Hardly," she growled. "Now that a demon from the Underworld has successfully infiltrated our midst, drastic steps must be taken. No one will be above suspicion." She shot me another sharp look.

"Well hell, I didn't let the gargoyle in!" Wait! How did she know that was Roland? It looked nothing like him. I didn't even remember seeing her in the gym when the gargoyle attacked in the first place . . .

Say nothing, Antonio warned.

I gave him a startled look. I'd forgotten he could speak to me this way. He hadn't done so since that day on the track field when I'd first learned he could hear my thoughts. I remained quiet, as he'd suggested.

"I'll take over the first line of interrogations." Gunny stepped forward, rubbing his hands together eagerly, apparently not noticing Ms. Leech's affection toward gargoyle-Roland.

"That will have to wait. Our first priority is to repair the gym. We'll deal with this . . ." she motioned to the carcass, ". . . after the awards ceremony. I'll have one of the janitors take him away."

That was her first priority? Was she kidding? Did she forget there was a dead gargoyle, decaying beside her as we spoke?

"You poor dear, you must have been so scared." Ms. Leech smiled at me. Smiled? Who was this woman and what had she done with Ms. Leech? And why did that smile make me want to scratch off the first two layers of my skin?

"Lucky for you Mr. Vasques was here," she grinned, although the smile did not touch her eyes—which incidentally were still violet.

I shivered. Why were her eyes the same color as Roland's had been before he transformed from a babe-magnet to a hideous beast? And how did she know Antonio had killed him? And why did she look as if she could eat us alive at any moment?

Antonio's grip tightened as he pulled me into his side. I'd forgotten he was still holding my hand. "I'll take Evie back to her dorm. She'll be safer there," he announced.

"Yes, of course. We must keep her safe." There was a sinister tone in her voice. If it hadn't been for Antonio's strong hold on me, I'd have been running after Iris long ago.

Keep quiet, Antonio warned again.

I glanced toward him.

They could be everywhere.

They? Who? I stiffened nonetheless.

"You two get out of here. I've got a gym to repair and butts to kick. Damn that Vandenberg, getting his ass captured by demons—he was my best student. Bixby!" Gunny strode off, shouting obscenities along the way. I'd hate to be Chad right about now.

Antonio pulled me away, taking advantage of Ms. Leech's temporary distraction. Stay quiet.

I tried to push my thoughts to Antonio. This was no problem for him, but for me, I had to concentrate very hard. Even with our hands touching, trying to communicate with Antonio like this made my brain hurt. He'd always invaded my mind, hearing my thoughts. I didn't even know if I could speak to him . . . telepathically that is.

Antonio? Is Ms. Leech . . .?

Antonio shot me a surprised look before answering. Yes! She's a Daimonas.

Ms. Leech was a Daimonas?

"Yes," Antonio repeated. "That's how the gargoyle must have gotten into the school. But not even a Daimonas would be powerful enough to break through the magical barriers that protect the students here. Something aided it, something sinister.

I shuddered at the thought of something more sinister then a gargoyle or a demonic principal lurking about. I shuddered even more at the reasons why!

"Antonio, how can you be sure that's not Ms. Leech?"

Antonio stopped abruptly; his eyes scanned our surroundings before he spoke. "It's not hard to see when you know what you're looking for. I'm only sorry I hadn't detected it sooner. I haven't seen her in the last few days . . . she could have been taken anytime."

I could accept that. I thought back to my earlier conversation in Ms. Leech's office: when she let me off the hook for soaking Stacy with the sprinklers. I'd thought then how odd her behavior was—she was probably a Daimonas. No wonder she was willing to overlook the whole thing, she'd probably done worse!

"But, Gunny is a skilled Slayer. He hadn't seemed to notice anything odd about Ms. Leech."

"The Daimonas can easily trick those around them, even someone as seasoned as Gunny." Antonio's jaw tightened. "I'm glad I killed him, the gargoyle that is." His hand reached up, his fingers gently brushing my face. "I'm glad I was there for you."

My knees wobbled as I melted under his stare once more. "I'm glad you were too. I still can't believe Roland tried to kill me."

"No Evie. That wasn't Roland."

"But how do you know? Maybe he was always a gargoyle. Maybe he's been plotting to kill me from the beginning. Maybe—"

Antonio gripped my arms firmly, stopping all other maybes. "I would have known. In class, when he asked to escort you to the awards . . . he was human then. I promise you, Evie. Roland may not have always had the most honorable intentions, but he would never have tried to kill you."

I thought about that. I couldn't believe Roland was dead . . . and Ms. Leech . . . my heart ached for them. I suddenly realized that no one was safe from harm. Any one of us could be taken at any moment.

We were climbing the steps to my dorm when Antonio asked me what my room number was.

"You can't be in my room!" I gasped, completely forgetting what we'd been talking about. "Boy's aren't allowed upstairs."

"It's a good thing I'm not a boy then." He grinned.

He was right of course. He was one hundred percent man. And he was still holding my hand—I blushed.

"Don't worry. No one will even know I'm here," he assured, smugly.

Yeah. Right. This was all I needed—getting caught sneaking a boy into my room. Ms. Leech or whoever she was would have my head for sure. No way could she overlook that!

We peeked through a small crack in the door. Ms. Spencer, the dorm matron, was sitting on the couch, watching her not-to-be-disturbed hour of Days of Our Lives on the television.

Antonio pulled me along behind him. Dang his hands were soft. He must lotion them every day. I wonder if his whole body is this soft? I wonder if he—

Evelyn! Antonio scolded me mentally, drawing me out of my PRIVATE THOUGHTS! He rolled his eyes at me. "They aren't private when you're squealing them. Besides, we have to hurry. The effect will last but there won't be much time before the others start returning to the dorm. It won't do us any good for them to find her immobilized," Weird. I hadn't even heard him utter a spell.

"The elevator's over here," I said.

We were outside my door in a matter of minutes. I'd never been more nervous about entering my room than I did at this moment; although I'd never entered my room with a guy before.

"Key." Antonio extended his hand. If he was listening to me, he didn't let on.

Key? "I don't have it. I left my bag in the gym."

Antonio didn't seem the least bit concerned. He placed his hand on the knob and turned the handle. The door opened.

"You don't need spells, do you?" I grinned at him. "What else can you do?" I instantly blushed at the suggestiveness of my words.

"Never mind." He ushered me into the room and shut the door. He took me firmly by the shoulders, pinning me with his stare. His face was so close to mine, making my knees weak all over again. "Do you have a backpack?"

"A backpack? Y-yes," I finally answered disappointed that he hadn't kissed me.

"Good." He released me. "You'll need a change of clothing. Pack light. Only what you can carry. Perhaps an extra pair of socks and shoes if you have them."

I went to my closet for the bag. My dresser drawer squeaked open behind me.

"Hey!" I leapt across the room, pushed past Antonio, and slammed my underwear drawer shut.

"I'm helping you pack."

"Not that drawer you're not." I could feel the blush returning to my cheeks. There was no way I wanted Antonio seeing my unmentionables.

"Fine." He backed away, palms up, and took a seat on the edge of my bed. "I hope you have more sensible undergarments than that," he mumbled under his breath.

"What do you mean by that? What's wrong with them?" I was more than embarrassed that he'd caught a glimpse of my underwear but insulting them? "I'll have you know those are very expensive. My father's assistant had them shipped from Paris. They're made from the finest silk and la—"

"You shouldn't even have underwear like that. You're too young," he snapped, cutting me off. He grabbed a magazine from the bedside table and pretended to flip through the pages.

"Will you quit saying that? You act like you're ancient. Besides, not everyone shares your opinion you know. I'm nearly seventeen. Practically the same age as you."

"Hardly," he scoffed, leaning back against my pillow now.

"Please. Make yourself comfortable." My tone was beyond surly.

A light shade of rose colored Antonio's cheeks. He had my current copy of Beach Volleyball, a magazine loaded with hunky bronze guys, and a few articles. The only reason I bothered subscribing to it at all was because of the cute boys. He peered over the top with raised eyebrows. "We're kind of on a tight schedule."

I stomped past him, snatching my bag from the closet. I watched as his eyes danced around my room. He quickly hid a smile behind the magazine.

"What?" I glanced around, looking for the potential comic source.

"Unicorns . . . frilly, pink bedding? Hardly the décor I would have expected for someone so 'grown up.'" He made little quotes in the air with his fingers.

I sucked in my cheeks. Another slam!

"By the way, Slayers don't wear lace. You need something that breathes, something that will be more . . . durable."

"Durable? What am I going to be doing in them, mud wrestling?" Now that might be fun . . . with Antonio of course.

"Evelyn!"

"Why must you keep eavesdropping in on my head?"

"Your head's not exactly quiet you know. And you're too young for such thoughts," he scolded again.

"You keep saying that. Is that for my benefit, or yours?"

He gave me a dry look. "Pack. And leave the lace home."

Whatever! "It's all I have. So unless you want me to go bare . . .?" I couldn't believe I'd said that. Antonio looked as if he'd swallowed his tongue.

I grabbed a few pairs of my most "durable" and chucked them into my bag; along with a shirt, a pair of pants, socks, and an extra pair of running shoes.

"Done. Oh wait!" I grabbed my hairbrush, and my bag of toiletries. Complete with a roll of toilet paper; "just in case the Underworld doesn't have any."

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips.

"Hey! You'll be thanking me when you have to go." Toilet paper is not a luxury it's a necessity!

"You realize you're going to have to carry that bag?"

"I know." Like that was going to be a problem. "Bag."

Antonio's mouth gaped slightly at the sight of my bag hovering beside me.

"No magic! You'll weaken your powers and you'll need every bit of it."

"Humph!" I let the bag drop to the floor with a thud. "I'm leaving the extra shoes."

He opened his mouth to speak but said nothing.

"What about your bag? I suppose we'll have to sneak into your room next?" I grinned, wondering what Antonio's room looked like.

"No need. I have one stashed outside the gates."

"Expecting Roland to turn into a gargoyle, were you?" I frowned at him.

"No. I always have an emergency bag ready; just in case." Of course he did. Antonio didn't strike me as the kind of guy that was unprepared—ever!

"You wouldn't by chance know how we're going to get to Hell do you?" I couldn't believe I was even having this conversation.

"I'm working on that. It's not exactly straightforward. I mean there isn't exactly a sign pointing the way. No yellow brick road to follow if you know what I mean."

Hurried knocks reverberated at the door.

My eyes met Antonio's.

"Evie, I know you're in there, open up."

"It's Iris," I whispered.

Antonio nodded and motioned for me to open the door.

I went for the doorknob and paused. I glanced back at him. "Is she . . .?"

"No," Antonio said. "She's not a Daimonas, but there is something else there . . . I can't quite read it." He held his staff in his hand again.

With Antonio ready to attack if need be, I nodded nervously, and opened the door.

"I figured you'd be here." Iris pushed past me, halting abruptly at the sight of Antonio standing by my bed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were—" Iris was beyond embarrassed. Her cheeks were crimson.

"We aren't!" I glared at Antonio. I knew something like this would happen. If Aubree had been the one to come in, it would have been a matter of seconds before the whole school knew Antonio was in my bedroom.

"The Child of Light has a lover?"

Antonio gasped. "A pixie!"

"What is she doing here?" I snapped, hiding my embarrassment with anger. "And what is she wearing?"

Nestled on Iris' shoulder was the little pixie from class. She was thin and in desperate need of a bath. Her short hair, spiky, due to the amount of soot that clung to it was pulled up with a crystal barrette, my crystal barrette. It was lopsided and way too large for her tiny head. She wore a little pink mini skirt and a snowy white cashmere top. The color contrast to her dirty skin was shocking.

"We were playing dress up," Iris admitted shyly. "She liked my Barbie's outfit."

I stared at the little pixie open-mouthed.

"She's here to help you," Iris spoke matter-of-factly. "I figured you'd be going after your father."

"You must be joking." I couldn't believe Iris would suggest such a thing. I didn't know what was crazier. Iris still having Barbie dolls or that this pixie wanted to "help." Besides, why would I want help from her? She was the enemy! The little creep knew my dad had been captured, and traded the information for a freaking barrette! She was probably in on it!

The pixie snarled as if hearing my thoughts.

"Has she had her shots?" I snarled back at her.

"Evie! Havoc and I are friends." Iris turned slightly, shielding the little beast from me.

"Havoc? You want me to go into the Underworld with a pixie named Havoc?" There was no question. Iris was completely insane.

Antonio's hands gently squeezed my shoulders. I shivered at the sudden closeness. "She can get us into Hell," he announced.

"Handsome and clever!" Havoc batted her eyes at Antonio. "If only you were my type. We could spend eternity together."

Presumptuous little tart! As if Antonio would give her the time of day. "She'll probably hand deliver us to Satan himself," I grumbled under my breath.

Havoc grinned. "Such a price I would receive for such a trade."

"She admits it!" I pointed excitedly at her, having caught her in a lie.

"Oh, Evie." Iris waved me off. "She's just joking."

Havoc stuck her tongue out at me, and then turned to Iris, smiling angelically.

"You might even begin to like her," Iris prattled on. Not noticing that the little demon had her thumb on her nose and was wiggling her fingers at me.

"Iris!" She ignored me, while practically cooing at the little beast. Iris had found her very own living play doll, and she clearly adored her.

I threw my hands into the air. In the history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst. Desperate for guidance, I looked over at Antonio. I wish I knew what he was thinking?

I'm thinking we should take her with us. Annoying as she is, we don't have much time, and she is the quickest way for us to get into the Underworld.

There must be another way? I silently begged.

There isn't time, and frankly, I can't think of a better solution.

I scoffed. There had to be a better solution. There was no way I was going to trust that little monster.

Evie, please . . . Antonio beseeched. His hands were still on my shoulders, allowing the silent communication between us.

"Fine!" I stomped my foot. I was not happy about this. Not one bit.

Havoc grinned. "For a trade." The little brat was eyeballing my jewelry box.

"A trade? I already gave you a barrette!"

"Oh come on, Evie."

"You come on, Iris! Why don't you give the little pixie something?" If she thought I was going to give her a piece of jewelry every time I wanted something, she was sorely mistaken

"I can't. I'm not the one who needs a favor." Iris shrugged her shoulders hopelessly. "Besides, I had to give her that outfit just so she'd come with me and talk to you! She's under the impression you're rude," Iris had leaned in and whispered the last bit, as if not wanting to remind the pixie of my potentially ill-mannered behavior.

Damn Iris and her big ideas. Who befriends a Pixie from Hell anyway? And where does she get off calling me rude?

We're wasting time, Antonio growled from behind.

I huffed, storming over to my jewelry box. I sifted through it for a moment and took out a few items.

"Here." I handed her a gold-linked bracelet. "You could wear it as a necklace I suppose."

Her beady little eyes fixed on the shiny object. She ran her hand over the metal.

"Such a pretty necklace." She placed it over her head. "Hmm, it's not enough."

"What? Now you listen here. If you think that for one minute I'm going to give you—"

"It's very dangerous in Hell. I don't think I want to go back." She folded her arms in a pout.

Oh . . . she was going back all right. If I had to kick her little pixie butt the whole way . . . she was going back.

"I want you to promise that you'll bring me back here with you," she ordered.

"Oh yes, Evie, please!" Iris clasped her hands together.

"We will do our best," Antonio spoke over my shoulder. "Now please, we must hurry."

"Havoc?" Iris smiled at her little friend. "They really will do their best. They wouldn't lie. Would you, Evie?"

I felt that lump in my throat again. The further Iris was from Havoc the better. It wasn't good for her to be around such evil. I'd promise her whatever I had to if it meant getting that little beast back into Hell and away from us. How in the world had the pixies gotten into the school in the first place?

That is a good question, Antonio mused.

"We will do our best," I finally answered Iris, quoting Antonio.

"You'd better put Havoc in your bag Evie, just until you pass through the gates. You don't want anyone to spot her."

I took the little burden from Iris and stuffed her into the front pouch, leaving it slightly unzipped for air—Iris insisted that Havoc needed to breathe—whatever.

"Come." Antonio held his hand out to me.

"Be careful, Iris, and please, don't tell anyone you saw us."

"You be careful, and try to bring Havoc back. She really isn't bad. It's all show," Iris mouthed the last part.

I hugged her goodbye and took Antonio's hand. We snuck past Ms. Spencer and released her from the spell before creeping out the door. We moved in between the trees and bushes until we reached the side yard fence.

"Can you squeeze through?" Antonio motioned to some bars that were hidden by the foliage.

"Why can't we just walk through the front gates?"

"Because they'll be under surveillance." Antonio shot me an exasperated look—like I should have known better than to ask that.

I took off my pack and squeezed it through the bars. I was able to fit my head and shoulders through, but my butt on the other hand was stuck.

"Suck it in," Antonio hissed.

"I am!" I growled back at him. What did he think I was doing? This was so embarrassing. I pictured myself on the front page of the school paper, and it was not a face shot!

Havoc laughed from her hiding spot. The little—

The shock of feeling Antonio's hands firmly planted on my butt startled me. "What the—" He shoved me through the bars with such force I landed on my face. I raised my head, spitting dirt from my mouth.

"What a clumsy girl." Havoc stood beside me, her hands on her hips, laughing. How'd she get out of that bag? "You're supposed to put your hands out before you hit the ground."

I was just about to strangle the little witch when Antonio jumped down from the fence.

"And why couldn't I have done that?" I snapped angrily.

"You might have gotten hurt. It's a long fall." He held his hand out to me.

I frowned, taking it reluctantly. He probably did that on purpose, I grumped.

"I did not do that on purpose. How was I supposed to know you'd land on your face?"

"You pushed—"

"Children, please!" Havoc cut me off abruptly. She turned her back to us, and a moment later our surroundings turned into a barren wasteland.

I looked back. The school was gone.

# Chapter 15

"What was that?" I jumped right into Antonio's unsuspecting arms.

"A scorpion!" He adjusted his grip on me, holding me tighter. "They're highly venomous."

"Yes. They are." Havoc grinned. Her beady little eyes glanced my way. "Fortunately they don't sting pixies."

Of course they didn't. Pixies were probably too mean! I clung onto Antonio for dear life. There was no way I was putting my feet on the ground. I hated bugs!

Sweet heaven he smelled good. And I had no idea how muscled his arms were. They went on for days . . .

Antonio's cheeks flushed, no doubt hearing my mental thoughts. My already rose-coated cheeks burned brighter at the knowledge.

"I hate to break up this little . . . whatever, but we have a long way to go." Havoc's haughty tone broke through my silent drool.

I slid down Antonio's frame, taking longer than necessary to release my grip around his neck. I don't think he minded. His eyes were like endless pools of chocolate, begging me to jump in.

Havoc cleared her throat. "You know, we have a two-day journey."

"A what?" I snapped out of my, I-wanna-kiss-this-guy-so-bad trance.

"She's right." And just like that, Antonio handed me my pack and began walking away. "We have to travel across this desert, and cross a swamp before nightfall. The troll there is particularly lethal."

I stared after him, my heart thumping loudly for a whole other reason: "Troll? No one said anything about a troll—a real troll? How did you know there was a troll?" I shouted.

Antonio kept walking, ignoring me I suspected. I looked down at Havoc. Her grin now resembled the Cheshire cat's.

"What's so funny?" I snapped at her.

"Funny? There is nothing funny, Child of Light. You may lose more than you bargained for. I hope this adventure is worth it." She strode off in the direction Antonio had gone.

I fastened my bag to my back and followed. What the heck did she mean by that? "I may lose more than I bargained for." Of course this "adventure" was worth it. I wasn't going to leave my dad stranded in this hellhole!

* * *

Man my feet hurt. I knew we were on a rescue mission, but damn. Would it have killed Antonio to slow the pace a little? What good was it going to do us if we arrived in Hell too exhausted to rescue my dad? "Can't we sit down? We've been walking for hours. With no stimulating conversation I might add." Antonio had been deathly quiet ever since he dropped the "troll" bomb. I'd tried to goad him into small talk, hoping he'd elaborate on how he knew we'd be facing a troll, but no luck. Antonio was as tight-lipped as ever.

He stopped now, surveying the area before taking a seat on a nearby rock—thank God.

"Do you need any water?" His voice was husky. His hand shook a little as he extended a water bottle to me. His eyes, doing the best they could to avoid mine.

"Are you alright?" I took a small sip and handed it back to him.

"Fine." He poured some water into the cap and handed it to Havoc. He watched as she gulped it down then handed it back to him. "We can rest here for a half hour, but any longer could put us in the swamp at nightfall. I'd prefer to be on the other side before we set up camp."

"We can sleep in the Hovenbrogue trees," Havoc suggested.

I looked over at her. She was resting on a rock, basking in the sun, with her arms folded behind her head. I rolled my eyes at her—must be nice not to have a care in the world.

"Good idea," Antonio agreed. "Their limbs are high off the ground. We should be safe from predators there." Antonio lay back as well, "resting his eyes" too.

I thought about his words. What are you hiding from me? I asked mentally.

His eyes shot open, meeting my stare.

I'd been able to enter his mind—no contact needed. And as much as I wanted to know how I'd done that, I wanted to know something more: you've been here before. When?

That's ridiculous, he half-laughed.

"What's so funny?" Havoc sat up, looking from Antonio to me like she'd just missed a joke.

"It's not ridiculous. You've been here before," I accused. Why wouldn't he just come clean?

Havoc grinned. "Do you have anything to eat? I feel like I should be munching on something while you're arguing."

"Shut-up!" Antonio and I shouted in unison, our eyes never breaking gaze.

That earned us a growl. "Why don't you just tell her? She may as well know."

I looked from Havoc to Antonio. She knew something about Antonio that I didn't? Unacceptable!

"There's nothing to tell. Come on." Antonio rose, flinging his pack over his shoulder. He strode off again, heading toward a steep hill. So much for taking a break!

Havoc shrugged. "I guess your man doesn't want you to know." She trotted off after him.

"My man," I scoffed at her words. "He's not 'my man'. If he was 'my man', he wouldn't be keeping things from me, I can tell you that right now!" Of course Havoc ignored me. She was too busy skipping along the sand dunes, twirling aimlessly, to pay any attention to anything I said—annoying pixie! I was officially in a bad mood.

Damn it's hot; and we weren't even in Hell yet. I unbuttoned the bottom half of my shirt, rolled it up and tied it just below my chest. Thankfully I wore shorts today. I threw my pack on again and hurried after Antonio, who oddly enough was leading the way—strange for someone who hasn't been here before!

I was just about to point this out when the ground rumbled below our feet. I stopped mid-step.

Havoc spun around, her eyes meeting mine. "Do. Not. Move," Her voice was low and even.

Antonio was motionless, except for his eyes. They looked around, scanning the area. They stopped at me. His stare, fixed on my . . . chest? Was he looking at my—

"Ahahh!" I screamed.

Antonio was on me in the next instant, knocking me to the ground. His staff swished past me, slicing the air I'd just occupied. A slimy green snake head landed beside me, yellow fluid oozing from its severed neck.

"Uhuhh!" I jumped up. Shivers ran the course of my body. I took off, screaming hysterically.

"Evie!" Antonio shouted after me.

No way was I turning around. This place had bugs, serpents, and god knows what else—in the middle of a freaking desert? "Uhuhh!"

The ground moved again beneath my feet, causing the sand to ripple once more. I stopped abruptly, nearly toppling over on my face. My eyes searched, ready for anything. Antonio and Havoc had caught up to me—our breathing, the only sound.

Antonio's arm quickly snaked around my waist, yanking me back against him. "Do not move," he warned breathlessly.

I nodded. I couldn't move if I wanted to.

Havoc crept out ahead, testing the ground before she urged us forward.

"Antonio?" My voice cracked. I could feel his breath on my neck. His hand was flat against my stomach, pressing my back into the endless ropes of muscle that made up his chest and stomach. I swallowed loudly, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat. I didn't know if it was from fear, or from being so close to him—though I suspected the latter—that my heart reacted so excitedly. And despite the danger we were in and the desperate need to reach my father, here, in the protection of his arms I wanted so badly to turn around and kiss him.

No Evie. It cannot be me.

I stiffened. He'd been listening again. Why was I not surprised? At such close proximity, my mental thoughts must be screaming at him as if I had shouted them out to the world. I wanted to die then and there.

"Hey, come on you two." Havoc was motioning us along again. "It's safe."

And just like that, Antonio dropped his arm and moved around me. "Here."

"You're giving me a staff?" I'd have preferred a kiss. I took the sleek weapon. It looked like nothing more than a candlestick holder.

"Just push the button in the middle and the blades will extend. But be careful to hold it away from you!" he added too late.

I'd pressed a small silver button on the handle and yelped.

"You could have impaled yourself!" he shouted, snatching it back.

"Sorry! You might have mentioned I needed a ten-foot radius! Slight exaggeration, but damn! My heart did its best to slow itself.

"If you want to be treated like a big girl, Evie, you need to be more responsible. I shouldn't have let you come along. You're only sixteen; a baby."

I needed to be more responsible? What did he think I was doing here anyway? I was risking my life, and his coming here; something I did not take lightly. We were heading into Hell—literally—to save my father. Facing God only knows what! And Antonio questioned my responsibility? "You shouldn't have let me come?" The very thought was inconceivable. I threw my bag to the ground.

"Evie." Antonio took a step back—a wise move. "This isn't the time." The hell it wasn't!

"Oh goodie, a fight!" Havoc was clapping her hands excitedly. "Make it a bloody one, Child of Light!"

I didn't want to fight, but Antonio and I had to get a few things straight. "I asked you along. Remember?" I took a step toward him. "You don't let me do anything!"

We circled each other, getting closer by the second.

"I may be sixteen, but I am not a baby. I'm prepared to handle anything this world has to dish out."

"I doubt that," he mocked.

My eyes narrowed as we inched closer.

"You forget. Your father sent me to look after you. He wouldn't be pleased to find me leading you into Hell."

No he wouldn't. But I didn't care. My dad's safety meant more to me than whether or not he was "pleased" with Antonio. George could ground me for the rest of my existence . . . I was getting him back—alive!

"And your safety means more to me than rescuing your father!" he announced harshly. And that is exactly why my dad chose Antonio to look after me. I couldn't ask for a more devoted protector; and my heart fluttered all the more for it. Still, I wanted Antonio to understand that I couldn't let him do this without me. If anyone was going to get hurt or God forbid killed, I wanted it to be me, not him.

"That will never happen," he promised. The fierceness of his tone took me by surprise. "It's not too late, Evie. Havoc can take you back. I don't want you getting hurt."

"And I don't want you to keep treating like a child!" Out of frustration I hurdled my pack at him, mentally, knocking him in the head.

"Evie!" He yelled, as he put his arms up defensively.

I watched my bag with great satisfaction attack him over and over again. I couldn't help but laugh, my mood lightening a little. "Are you ready to stop treating me like a child?" Ironic I knew, considering I was acting like one at the moment!

"Evelyn!" Antonio thundered. This time, his voice didn't sound so forgiving.

"Oh, alright." I released the charm, letting my bag fall with a thud.

I watched as Antonio righted himself. His hair was messed in a sexy sort of way. He ran his fingers through it, combing it back. Even while highly pissed off, he managed to look yummy.

Antonio met my smile and frowned.

"This is all very interesting, but we're wasting time."

I looked over at Havoc. "Sorry to have bored you." I picked my pack up off the ground and huffed past Antonio, brushing his shoulder as I went. Maybe now he'd take me seriously.

We continued on in silence for some time. Well, at least most of us were silent. Havoc took advantage of the tension and used it to tell me every sordid detail of her life. She had a boyfriend, I think? He was definitely a romantic interest. They were tied to one another somehow, or maybe it was bound? I don't know. I was too busy watching Antonio, my eyes doing their best to assess his mood.

How could he just be-bop along like our argument hadn't affected him? How could he continue to evade my questions? He'd been here before, I was sure of it. The fact that he felt he had to hide the reasons why only fueled my belief that it had been bad.

"Now isn't the time for this conversation, Evie." He glanced back at me, giving me an exasperated look.

"When then? When we're standing at the threshold of Hell?"

"You're being dramatic."

Me? Was he kidding? I wasn't the one hiding things. I wasn't the one pretending to care about someone. I wasn't the one who looked incredibly hot at any given moment. Well. That wasn't technically his fault. But still, he used it for evil, I was sure of it.

"I do not pretend to care about you," he groaned. "I do care about you."

Yeah right. Mr. "it cannot be me." What an ass!

"I am not!" He turned on his heel, my body nearly slamming into his.

"You are so!" I said, squaring my shoulders with his. "And, you shouldn't be listening to my private thoughts all the time!" I put my hands on my hips, giving him the haughty look I'd mastered at age seven. "I can think what-ever I want."

"If you two are going to play-fight again, you mind if I take a nap under that tree?"

I huffed at her. "We don't have time for you to take a nap. And we are not play-fighting." We so did not have time for this. But damn it, how could Antonio expect me to drop it? I deserved answers!

"Go," Antonio ordered Havoc, sparing her a quick glance.

"Now you listen to me," he inched closer, not bothering to leave any air between us. I momentarily forgot I was mad. His lips were a perfect shade of pink. So close, I could almost taste them. He grabbed my arms, pulling me tighter to him. "It cannot be me you fall in love with, do you understand? It cannot be me!" He shook me slightly, his words coming out through gritted teeth. He looked as if he would thrust me away from him at any moment. But he didn't. He pulled me closer still.

"Why not?" God, could I sound anymore needy? Being this close only weakened my knees further. I already felt like putty in his hands.

"Just tell her!" Havoc shouted from under a tree. So much for napping . . .

"Tell me what?" So help me, if he brushed me off now I was going to kick him in the—

"Alright!" He released me, allowing me to stagger back onto a nearby rock to sit. "There's no need to resort to that."

I stared up at him, my heart beating at a ridiculous pace. What sort of bomb was he going to release on me now?

"I won't be coming back with you."

My heart stilled.

"It makes no sense to develop a relationship we cannot have." His words were absolute.

I stared at him, incredulous. "You wanna explain that, now!"

Antonio's eyes shut for a moment, as if gathering the strength to continue. "I can't go back with you." Silence. "You asked if I've been here before. I have. Many times. It's how I met your father."

I sat there open mouthed. Trying to comprehend what he was saying.

He lifted his chin high. "I am a Guardian for the Devine Army."

I couldn't have been more surprised if he'd smacked me in the face with a brick. "But you're Mageian?" What the heck was he talking about, the Devine Army. I glanced over at Havoc. She nodded her head at me, grimacing.

I was adopted and raised by Mageians," Antonio explained. "My adoptive father is a Slayer like your father. George Hollyander was the first to sense that I had . . . unusual powers.

I studied him for a moment. My eyes were looking for any sign of a lie. I couldn't find one.

"I knew I was different than any other Slayer," he continued. "I could hear others' thoughts and move things with my mind; I just didn't understand why?"

I stood there speechless. How in the world could I have missed this? My dad and Antonio were BFFs?

"George Hollyander trained me to become a Guardian. He said I was the best student he'd ever had." Antonio beamed with pride.

A small pang of jealously rose up within me; I wished my father had taken the time to train me. Now he was gone. I shook the thought away. I'd get him back—soon.

"But how did you get to be a . . . Devine Guardian?" I asked. "Wouldn't you have to be an angel to be in the heavens?" And what would my father have to do with that?

Antonio shifted uncomfortably. "It's a long story."

I waited for more but that was apparently all the info I was going to get on that subject! I huffed in annoyance.

"I ultimately earned your father's trust and charge of his most cherished possession," he continued. Antonio's eyes looked fondly into mine. "An honor to be sure."

My heart fluttered. But I was mad, damn it! I tried to clear my mind—a futile act. "That doesn't explain why you won't be coming back with us?" My voice cracked. I couldn't even comprehend the idea.

"I'll be bound to the gate. The only way one can leave Hell is if they offer a soul in exchange, a soul besides their own."

"So. You've got me, problem solved! Use my soul to get us in." I'd worry about the "getting out" later.

"No!" He blurted, causing me to jump.

"What do mean, 'no?'"

"If I enter with you as my soul, you'll be bound to Hell. You would be condemned there, and more Daimonas than you can imagine will seep out into the outer world." Antonio looked uneasy. As if he'd just divulged a piece of the puzzle he hadn't meant to.

I looked over at Havoc. She sat on a small log, her elbows propped on her knees. "A Child of Light?" I asked her.

"Yes. You're the key to their freedom," she explained. "I tried to tell you."

I thought about that. "Is my father a . . . Child of Light too?"

Antonio had gone pale. "Your father has powers that you cannot imagine, Evie, powers that he has passed onto you. If you were bound to that world, the Daimonas could use the two of you together to open the gates of Hell completely. The world as we know it would cease to exist."

Of course! It all made sense now! That's why George sent me to Pinehurst. He knew I'd be hidden and by sending Antonio to look after me, he figured I'd be safe. The Daimonas wanted me too. Roland, well gargoyle Roland, wanted to capture me, not kill me! That's why they took my father. They wanted to use us together to open the gates of Hell—permanently!

Antonio nodded, hearing my inner revelation.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" I demanded.

"Because I feared you'd react this way. That if you learned of this before we entered Hell, I knew you would insist we offer yourself up in exchange for my freedom. But you can see now why I can't let that happen. My sacrifice will save everything."

The Daimonas had my dad, and now they had Antonio? No. They would not get Antonio too. I'll never let that happen.

"They'll never have you." The sky seemed to darken around us with that promise. I won't bring you into Hell, Evie. You will not be bound there."

"You're not going without me," I threatened. He was not leaving me behind.

"I'll find a way to rescue your father, I promise. I owe him everything."

"So he taught you to fight. That's not worth giving up your life! You'll be stuck there forever!" Desperation coated every word, every thought. Antonio was stubborn. He wouldn't use me to get us in, and the consequence to that would make him a prisoner for the rest of eternity. I felt my hands fisting at my sides. Over my dead body—which incidentally, may be the case.

"Understanding took hold of me. "That's why you've been pushing me away, telling me that we can't be together . . . " I opened my mouth to continue—nothing. I swear I felt like a fish at times.

"Do not worry." Antonio squatted to his haunches, leveling his stare with mine. He reached up and stroked the side of my face. "I knew when I agreed to help you on this quest, this would be my fate. It will be an honor to save your father. He has done so much for my . . . family."

"I don't care what he's done for your family," I shouted, pushing his hand away. "Antonio, you can't give up your life! My father wouldn't want you to!" I knew in my soul I spoke the truth.

He forced a smile. "You're young, Evie. You will have many loves. Don't waste your heart on me." By the look in his eyes, I knew he was forcing himself to believe what he was saying.

"Many loves . . . don't waste your heart on me?" No. I'll never love another like this. Who else would sacrifice himself like Antonio was doing for me? "Many loves?" No. Antonio was all I wanted; I knew that now with great certainty.

"You're young, Evie. You can't know that yet," his words came out soft, like a whisper. But he couldn't hide the heartache in his eyes. If he thought for one minute that I was going to let him "go gently into that good night" . . . he didn't know me very well.

I grabbed Antonio by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him toward me, right into a lip-locking kiss that would melt the ice off a glacier.

His body took about two seconds to respond. His arms wound around my waist and pulled me to my feet, bringing me closer to him, while his lips met mine; kiss after eager kiss. He'd been dreaming of this moment too. There was no way he could hold me like this and not be head-over-heels for me. I could feel it in his lips and in the heated embrace his arms provided. He couldn't hold me close enough, and that was fine by me. I surprised myself and deepened the kiss, unfortunately startling him back to sanity.

He pulled back. Small beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. I wasn't sorry. Not one bit. Roland's kiss, or whoever the heck he was, definitely rated a knock-your-socks-off experience. But, it was nothing in comparison to Antonio's. This kiss would be legendary. It was the type of kiss dreams were made of. And my dreams were just beginning.

I blushed, knowing full well he'd heard me. "Well, I figured if I was going to Hell, I should at least be able to say that I'd been kissed before . . . by something human anyway. And since you clearly weren't going to do it, I—"

His lips collided with mine again, stopping me mid-sentence. His hands, gently cupped my neck, drawing me closer, as his mouth moved over mine. This kiss was more passionate, heady. I'm pretty sure it was full of desire too. Yep, that's exactly what it was— full—of—desire. Man could this guy kiss!

My legs wobbled beneath me. His hands, traveled down my neck and arms, winding their way around my back. He pulled me against him, our bodies meshing into an airtight embrace. It was then that I realized my feet were no longer touching the ground. Somehow he'd lifted me without me knowing it—or perhaps I was floating.

He released my lips reluctantly, but not his hold around me. His eyes dreamily stared into mine. He brushed several more kisses across my lips before he set me down.

My body cried as his arms threatened to leave. "No." I shook my head, pulling him back to me. I couldn't look into his eyes. I didn't want to see into his thoughts. I just wanted Antonio to hold me a little longer. I nuzzled my head against his chest, listening to the erratic beating of his heart.

"Evie." He pulled back and looked me squarely in the face. "You must know this changes nothing." He sounded sad.

"The hell it doesn't!" I challenged. "This changes everything!" He loved me! Well, he didn't exactly say that, but I could feel it. No guy could kiss a girl like that and walk away.

Antonio's face grew serious. "I'll have to walk away. Evie, when the time comes, you must let me go."

"No." I shook my head again. "I can't. I won't." Tears leaked out the corners of my eyes.

Antonio sighed deeply. "Oh, Evie." A gentle smile swept across his face. His fingers brushed the tears from my cheeks before he leaned over and kissed me softly on the forehead. "You will have no choice."

# Chapter 16

A hysterical laugh broke the tension. We looked toward the source. I'd forgotten we weren't alone.

"You've got to be kidding!" Havoc squealed. "You just planted a life altering kiss on her, and now you expect her to just let you go off into the fiery flames of Hell? Never to be seen again! Please. No man is that stupid."

"This does not concern you," Antonio said firmly. His arms were still wound tightly around me.

"Sure. I'm just the one who will have to listen to her blubbering the whole way back. But you're right. It doesn't concern me." Havoc rolled her eyes.

"Evie will be fine. She understands. There is nothing to be done. We have to get her father back and this is the only way." He spoke to Havoc, but his words were surely meant for me. Antonio was trying to convince me that any plan I might try to concoct to counter this was futile.

"Yeah, right." Havoc jumped up, and dusted her skirt off. "Well, since nothing monumental is going to happen here, I think we'd better press on. The swamp is just over that hill."

A feeling of dread came over me. I could feel it in my bones. Even my knees were shaking. Some fearless slayer I was.

"Can I have the staff back?" I asked.

I half expected Antonio to say no. Maybe even hell no! But he placed it in my hand. "Remember to hold it away from you this time."

I stared at it apprehensively—debating whether or not I should even be holding it.

"Come," he held his hand out to me. "I won't let anything happen to you."

I nodded, and laced my fingers with his. I knew he couldn't keep that promise, but the very idea of it was comforting. I felt safer already.

"How sweet. Too bad you won't be able to offer her such comfort on the return trip."

"Damn it, Havoc, will you shut-up!" It was the first time I'd seen Antonio snap. I mean, really snap. His grip tightened around my hand.

I hadn't thought about the return trip. I'd assumed he'd be with me. It didn't matter. I'd have my dad and somehow, I'd find a way to bring Antonio back with us too.

"Evie . . ."

"You think we might have a few minutes to practice?" I extended my arm and held out my staff, hoping to distract Antonio from anything he was about to say. I pressed the button. The blades shot out from both ends causing me to jump—again.

His lips curled up, his smile touching his eyes. I loved that smile—he didn't do it nearly enough.

"I suppose we could spare a few minutes," Antonio agreed, as he pulled his staff out from his pants waist and pushed the button—he didn't even flinch. "Ready?" He lunged at me.

Clank, clank, clank! His blade met mine again and again . . . so much for easing into it, I was already panting.

"We don't have the luxury of 'easing into it,'" Antonio breathed, swinging the end of his staff into mine again. I met the blow, staggered back, and landed on my butt.

Havoc, the witch, laughed, "Oh Child of Light, you look ridiculous!"

She should talk. I wasn't the one dressed like Barbie and wearing an entirely too large hair clip on my head.

Antonio sheathed his staff, and then reached out to help me up.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn't sure if he was laughing at me, or with me. I took his hand.

"With you. Always," he chuckled under his breath before he moved behind me. His arms came around my middle, pulling my body back into his. His hands met mine on the handle of my staff. "Move like this." The words were ordinary but he made them sound sensual. My body moved with his as we whirled around, stabbing the air with the deadly points of the blade. I hoped my brain was paying attention because my heart was all a flutter from our close proximity. It was times like these that I forgot we were on a rescue mission.

"Now!" Antonio sprung away from me; his staff out once more as he came at me.

I blocked him as best I could. Sadly, my best wasn't very good. I stumbled over my feet several times, nearly impaling myself. I'd only hoped I wouldn't have a need to use this thing in battle—I sucked!

"It's not something you can learn overnight," Antonio addressed my inner thoughts. "Try, Evie. Concentrate. Block me." He swung at me again, bringing the blade far too close to my neck. I cringed away. "You think the Daimonas will be careful with you?"

I thought about that. "No." But was it too much to expect a little chivalry? I was a girl after all, and I couldn't help but think Antonio swung a little too hard.

Antonio stopped abruptly. His staff once again aimed at my head. His eyes were wide with shock. "Chivalry? Are you kidding?" He lowered his staff.

I shrugged. Part of me, a big part in fact, figured the moment I took the first swing with the staff that it might be in everyone's best interest that I just step behind Antonio and let him do his guy thing.

"My 'guy thing'? Whatever happened to you taking charge? You invited me here remember?"

"Well . . ." I looked down at me feet, kicking the loose dirt around them. I was feeling truly inadequate. The staff had been harder to use than I'd thought. I realized that I wasn't going to be an asset after all. The extent of my Slayer training thus far, hadn't prepared me for any of this. I'd probably get us killed!

"Evie." Antonio's expression softened. Although, he didn't seem opposed to the idea of me taking a back seat. "You are more of an asset than you know. You're wicked-good with magic, and that is a valuable weapon indeed."

Magic defensively? I didn't know if I'd be an asset there either. I never had to use magic for fighting—aside from the few little tussles I had with Antonio and the pranks I played on Stacy.

"Evie." He sheathed his staff once again and stepped closer to me. His fingers gently lifted my chin—I had nowhere to look, except into those endless pools of chocolate . . . "This takes years to learn. I only gave you the staff to make you feel stronger. I never expected you to really have to use it. Not very much anyway," he added, as an afterthought.

He placed his finger over my mouth, silencing me. The look in his eyes was pure determination. "I'll protect you." He leaned toward me, his lips brushing softly against mine.

Surprised, I found that my arms were wrapping themselves around his neck. His hands were on my waist again, gripping it firmly. My lips met kiss after blissful kiss. I never wanted it to end. I wanted everything around us to fade away. I wanted—

"Uh guys? You think you might want to wrap this up. We're burning daylight here."

I wanted Havoc to SHUT-UP!

I could feel Antonio's lips smiling against mine now. "Come. The troll awaits."

* * *

"Would any of you mind me hitching a ride?"

I looked down at Havoc. For the first time, I actually felt sorry for her. She looked so small and helpless. I picked her up and set her on my shoulder, wincing as she grabbed onto my hair for support.

We stood on a small hill, staring over at what appeared to be an endless swamp. Massive trees, with thick twisted branches stretched outward from the water, threatening to grab anything that got close enough, and bring it to its demise. The path, if you could call it a path, was hidden by murky, bubbling goo.

Antonio held my hand tighter.

"We'll have to wade through the water," he said.

"Do we have to?" I could just imagine what sorts of creatures lived beneath the surface. I shuddered at the thought.

"It's the only way through," Antonio insisted.

I nodded and put on my game face—whatever that was. I had to be brave. If my dad had suffered this place, I could too!

"Once we enter the water, do not stop. Do not look back. No matter what you see or hear, you must keep moving."

"Why?" I whispered the question, afraid to hear the answer.

"A spell," Havoc interjected. "The swamp sleeps . . . unless you awaken it."

I nodded again. I was more afraid now than I'd ever been. I squeezed Antonio's hand. I didn't want to be separated from him for one second.

We inched toward the water line, Antonio's posture stiffing. A mixture of emotions swirled in his eyes. His hand was sweating as much as mine, but he didn't let go.

"Remember. Do not stop for anything." He stepped into the water. A loud boom, like thunder echoed around us. A large ripple moved from one end to the other like a sonic blast—so much for sneaking our way through.

I stepped in, shivering at the iciness of the water. How could a place so hot have such ridged water temperatures? Crap. I wished I wore pants instead of shorts. The slimy water coated my naked legs, wrapping itself around my skin, sucking the moisture from it. I followed close beside Antonio. My eyes darted around, taking everything in.

"Uhuhh!"

"What is it?" Antonio grabbed me, pulling me into his side.

"Something brushed my leg." I cringed, remembering the snake-like texture that rubbed past me. Please don't let there be snakes in the water, I silently prayed.

"Keep walking," Antonio urged as he pulled me along. His arm had wrapped around my shoulders, offering what comfort he could.

"Vipers swim these waters," Havoc whispered in my ear. "I hate vipers; nasty creatures." If Havoc hated them, they must be bad.

Wait a minute? "Vipers don't swim in water," I noted.

"These do." Havoc held my hair tighter. "Did I mention they have two heads?"

Oh my God! "Antonio . . ."

We were waist deep now. The sludge clung to my bare skin. "Gross. I'm going to need a bath after this." I pulled a chunk of slime off my stomach. Eww, there was actual slime touching me.

"This place is disgusting, and it smells." I felt my stomach heave. Please, God. Don't let me throw up now. Although with the large chunks of I don't wanna-know-what floating around, you probably wouldn't notice anyway.

"It's not much further, I can see the shore just around the bend," Antonio urged me on again, promising a light at the end of this disgusting tunnel.

"I thought you said there was a troll?" I glanced behind us . . .

"No!" Havoc shrieked.

Damn! The water began to bubble all around. I looked at Antonio, meeting the same panic in his eyes. He shoved me behind him, his staff already drawn.

A small ripple of water moved toward us. I gripped onto Antonio's shoulders, but he shrugged me off, stepping slightly forward.

"We're dead," Havoc moaned.

The ripple was followed by another, slightly larger, and then another ripple. I took up my staff, pressing the button and releasing the blades. What I planned to do—who knew?

A high-pitched shriek pierced my ears. I jumped, slashing the staff to my left.

"Ahahh!" Havoc pulled onto my hair so tight, I felt a few strands rip out.

I'd managed to cut off one of the viper's heads—sheer luck. The other head was viciously snapping at me. I swung and stabbed at it.

Antonio was bracing himself for what rose from the water. My heart stopped. Before us, stood a figure that must've been at least 12 foot tall. Sunken red eyes peered through stringy tufts of hair that dripped like tentacles down a hideous, misshapen face. Its nose was long and crooked and when it snarled, bared teeth so stained, it looked as if it had drunk bottles of black ink.

I didn't have time to freak out. The first viper was joined by another, and then another.

"He told you not to look back! Didn't he tell you not to look back?" Havoc shrieked loudly.

"I'm sorry!" I cried. "There are too many of them. There's no way—" Slice. I'd managed to cut off the other's head. One down! Ten . . . twenty . . . son of a—

"Child of Light, over there!"

I swung to the left again, severing another head. I was getting dizzy. I literally had to move in a circle to ward off all the snapping heads that wanted a piece of me.

The sound of clanking steel to my left distracted me. I glanced over at Antonio. Huge mistake! I screamed out in pain. One of the snakes had punctured my arm with its tooth.

"EVELYN!" Antonio roared. Abandoning his fight with the troll, he plunged through the water; his staff was in the air, swinging past my head in the next instant. He lobbed off both the viper's heads in one swipe.

"Fool! She's fine!" Havoc shouted at him. "Defeat the troll!"

Fine? I was freaking not fine. A large lump was forming on my arm where the snake had bit me. It grew limp with each passing second.

Antonio gave me a regretful look before he turned his attention back to the troll—who by now had gained distance and was nearly upon us. His loud thunderous roar brought goose bumps to my skin and nightmares that would haunt me until my dying day.

I used my good hand to swing at the other snakes.

"Havoc! Can't you do something?" I yelled at her.

"Do you have anything to trade?"

"Was she kidding me?" I swung again, severing another head. Depending on her answer, her head might be next.

"Well, I suppose I could help you, even though it's against the code to help someone for free."

"You little—"

"Oh, oh, I know! I could consider it payment for you letting me ride on your shoulder!" She squealed cheerful—right in my ear!

"Havoc! Ahahh!" She'd scrambled down my arm and bit off the chunk of skin where the snake had bit me.

My vision blurred. Large amounts of pus spurt from the wound. I gagged.

"There's no time to vomit, swing to the right!" I did as she told. I couldn't function. The pain was excruciating, and the sight of my arm was more than I could stand. I puked!

"To the left Child of Light, to the left!"

I swung again, severing another head. God, could things get any grosser? I was waist-deep in scummy, pukey, dead snakehead, and troll infested water.

Antonio roared behind me.

Clank, clank, clank!

The troll was much fiercer than I'd imagined. He'd somehow propelled himself from the water, taking a cheap swing at Antonio's head and missed. His axe-like blade, came toward Antonio again, the force of it somehow never besting the Slayer.

"Uhuhh!" Something swam between my legs. "They're everywhere! If only we could—" Oh my God! I spoke the first spell to come to mind. "INABILITARA!" I spun around, my hand extended. An orange glow shot from my fingertips. The snakes froze in place. All movement around me; ceasing instantaneously.

Havoc clapped her hands. "Very good Child of Light!"

"Damn, it wasn't the spell I'd wanted, but it'd have to do. I'd wanted to immobilize the vipers. I'd done that, but this spell would suck my energy for sure. In class I'd held one Ragno like this, but there were at least fifty snakes in front of me now, all glowing orange, and all waiting for my spell to weaken.

"Antonio!" I cried over my shoulder.

Antonio was still battling the Troll. He'd sustained a large wound to his arm, the bright crimson gushing from it, colored his skin.

"You have to help him!" Havoc pointed out the obvious. Honestly, did she think I didn't know that?

"How? It's taking all my strength to hold the snakes."

"You must know something. You're the Child of Light!"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I snapped though gritted teeth.

"Because. You were sent from the heavens. Your soul gives off a light that evil cannot stand; not without great pain anyway."

I thought about that. Light causes pain? In the Underworld it would. This place thrived on darkness. I looked around at the eerie swamp. The sky around us was growing bleaker by the minute.

Light . . . light! "Havoc, shield yourself." With my other hand, I summoned the last of my strength, doing my best to harness my "inner light." "FLOGA!" Not exactly light—more like a huge fireball that pulsed orange. I threw it at the troll, hitting it square in the chest. The bright explosion from the flames enveloped us, giving the illusion of daylight for a brief moment.

The troll roared out in agonizing pain.

Antonio took full advantage of its distraction and jumped forward, delivering the final blow—he'd severed its head with one swipe. He then advanced through the sludge as quickly as he could. Taking me around the waist and pulling me through the water.

My hold on the vipers was weakening, and so was I.

Antonio pulled me onto the shore and set me down gently—and not a moment too soon. I'd collapsed the moment my feet hit dry land, the charm collapsing along with me.

"Evelyn!" Antonio's hands gently shook me.

"Evie." I whispered through closed eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"My name's Evie."

I could hear Antonio grinning back at me, bringing a smile to my face. I opened my eyes. "Snakes!" I sat up, prepared for an attack.

Antonio spun around, his staff outstretched. But the swamp... was gone?

"Where'd it go?" I asked disbelieving that a slimy viper wasn't about to take another bite out of me.

Antonio stared into the nothingness. "I don't know?" He looked to Havoc.

"Don't ask me. I'm not a swamp kind of girl. I'm more into the fire and brimstone," she mused.

"Yeah, and biting," I added, growling through my teeth, remembering her vicious assault. How would she like it if I bit her?

"I know. No need to thank me." Havoc strutted off, swaying her hips as she went.

"You bit me, you witch!"

She spun around on her heel, her glare just as deadly as mine. "I'm not the witch here," she hissed. "You don't see me casting spells. Besides, you said you wanted my help."

"You bit me! How was that helping?"

"Your arm would have filled with that pus and erupted, spreading poison throughout your whole body. You'd be dead right now if I hadn't."

I gulped, looking to Antonio for confirmation.

Antonio took my arm and examined it. Aside from the quarter inch chunk missing, the arm looked fine. I hated to admit it but the intense throbbing had dissipated.

"Here." He reached into his pack and pulled out a first aid kit. "I don't know if this will help, but it couldn't hurt." He put ointment on the wound and bandaged it tight.

"Now you." I ran my hand up his arm, pausing at the deep gash across his bicep.

"No, its fine," he winced at my touch. But his eyes never left mine. "It will heal on its own."

"Right. Well, you can be brave later." I repeated the treatment he gave me, taking care to not press too hard on his wound. I only wished I had something to stitch it up with.

"Lucky for me, I managed to get through the whole ordeal unscathed," Havoc noted with pleasure.

I glowered at the little brat. "We can remedy that for you . . . how about a little nip?" I snapped at her with my teeth, causing her to jump.

Antonio laughed heartily. I couldn't help but laugh too.

"That's not funny." Havoc stomped her foot in protest. "See if I bite you again!"

Antonio and I looked at one another, both of us breaking out into another bout of laughter. Now that the danger had passed, we felt giddy and lucky to be alive. Even with our little nicks and scrapes.

"If you two are through laughing, we might want to head for the Hovenbrogue trees. It's almost nightfall."

That snapped Antonio out of his light mood. "Quickly, there isn't much time." He yanked me up and pulled me toward the sunset.

"Hey!" I struggled to match my steps with his. I still wasn't quite myself.

"Faster! If we don't make the trees before sunset, the Borgons will eat us alive!"

I picked up my pace. I had no idea what Borgons were and I didn't want to know. If they were anything like the vipers, or even the dreaded Ragnos we'd soon be facing, I wanted to be as high up in those trees as possible.

# Chapter 17

The sun dipped behind the hill just as we began climbing the trees. Havoc had had enough of us and wanted her own tree for the night—wasn't she special! Whatever—she could look after herself for once. I was sick of that little pest riding on my shoulder anyway . . . I wondered if she'd be all right over there?

"I didn't know you cared." Antonio grinned, lifting me higher up into the thick gnarled masses of branches.

"I don't. I just promised Iris I'd bring her back. I could care less. And stop eavesdropping!"

"Will you two be quiet? I know the concept is foreign to you, Child of Light, being ugly and all, but one of us would like to get some beauty sleep!"

Little brat! I hoped she fell out of that tree and landed right on her—

"Evie," Antonio warned.

"A girl can dream, can't she?" I asked dryly.

He suppressed a grin. "Be nice."

We settled on a thick branch, high up in the tree. Havoc was well tucked into a small hole in her tree's trunk. Fitting! The little rat should sleep in a hole. How dare she call me ugly!

"She did save you," Antonio spoke; playing the little devil's advocate.

I tried to ignore him. There was a more pressing matter: "I'm not sleeping in these clothes. They're covered in slime and puke." Havoc had put me in a bad mood again, and the thought of sleeping in dried swamp scum made my skin crawl.

"I told you not to vomit!" Havoc called out loudly. A ring of pleasure coated her voice. "Don't you ever do what you're told? Wait. I'll answer for you: No! That's why we were attacked in the first place!"

I pointedly ignored her. I did not need to be reminded that if I hadn't looked back while crossing the swamp, none of us would be injured now.

"It doesn't matter," Antonio addressed my inner guilt. "We're alive."

I sighed. He was right of course. I stood beside him, surveying our "branch" for the night.

"We're fifty feet up a tree!" Antonio noted, staring at me in disbelief. I could barely make out his exasperated look in the twilight. He'd read my mind. "How are you going to change up here?"

I looked around me. This was not going to be easy. The branch below my feet was sturdy enough to hold the both of us, but this was going to require some fancy maneuvering.

"I can do this. Don't look!" Turning away, I steadied myself on the thick branch. I brought my pack around and held it between my legs before I glanced back over my shoulder—Antonio had already sat and was leaning with his back to the trees trunk—his eyes were closed tight. I untied my shirt and pulled it up and over my head in one quick movement, causing my body to sway slightly on the limb.

"What are you—" Antonio had tried to avert his eyes but must have felt me falter, his hands were on my hips steadying me.

With my back to him, I crossed my arms over my chest, doing my best to conceal myself. "I told you not to look!"

"Well it's kind of hard when we're sharing a tree limb!" He snapped. I could hear the embarrassment in his voice. "And you're welcome by the way." He released his hold on me. "You nearly fell!"

"Clumsy girl!" Havoc mocked. "Maybe you should just jump, save us the anticipation of waiting for you to fall!"

I growled mentally at her. I couldn't wait to hand her back to Iris.

"Turn your head!" I ordered Antonio, the frustration evident in my tone. I couldn't change with him watching me.

"I'm trying not to," he murmured under his breath.

I dug into my bag, feeling around for a clean shirt. I grabbed my underwear instead. There was nothing like clean underwear!

"Oh no." I could hear the panic in his voice.

"I'm not going to wear slimy underwear. It isn't hygienic."

"You've got to be kidding me," Antonio said, his voice sounding hoarse.

I sat down, straddling the tree limb.

"You're practically on top of me," he croaked.

I glanced behind. His head was still turned away, his eyes, doing their best not to peek.

"I am not. Now quit being a baby. I mean it; don't look!" I quickly switched out into a clean bra.

"Hey, that's cute! Do you think we could find something like that in my size? I love hot pink!" Havoc yelled out from her hole. Havoc couldn't be discreet if her life depended on it. I could feel my whole body flushing at the knowledge Antonio now had. Damn pixie!

Sweet Deity . . . pink . . .

"Did you say something?" I asked Antonio as I pulled my shirt over my head.

"No," he choked. "Are you done yet?"

"With my top," I leaned back into him, and scooted out of my shorts.

"What are you—?"

I looked over my shoulder. His eyes were glued to me. They fell on my naked legs.

"Oh no, you can pull those right back on." He reached for my shorts as I let them fall from the tree, along with my disgusting old shirt. "You are not . . . oh, God" He turned away again. His cheeks were glowing red in the moonlight—adorable.

I tried to act mature, but inside I was dying. Changing in front of a boy was not on my too do list! "I'll be done in a minute. Pretend like it's not happening!"

Yeah right. I knew exactly how he felt. It was a good thing the light was nearly gone from the sky . . . the two of us probably sported matching expressions of embarrassment!

"I wonder if we can find some matching panties for me too?"

"Havoc, will you be quiet!" Antonio shouted over my head. Like I need that visual!

I couldn't help but smile. I pulled on a clean pair of pants then leaned back into him once again, trying to fasten the button. "There," I said with a satisfied sigh of relief. It felt good to be clean. Well, cleaner. I made to move away, but Antonio's hand caught my arm.

"Maybe you should stay here. So you don't fall," he added quickly. There was a shine of sweat on his forehead.

"Are you making a move on me?" I grinned.

"No, I'm not making a move on you! Especially fifty feet up a tree!" Damn. I'll never get that image out of my mind.

You realize I can hear you, don't you?

Antonio stiffened. "Can we please change the subject?"

I was still smiling. Even caked in dried swamp scum, Antonio was adorable. The fact that I'd managed to embarrass him made him look all the cuter. Although, "do you by chance have a clean shirt in that bag of yours? I'd hate to get all that . . ." I motioned to the residue on his chest, " . . . on me."

Zip

He shrugged out of his shirt and replaced it with another. "Happy?" he asked.

Hell yeah. He would make the cover of my Beach Volleyball magazine in a heartbeat. He had to work on those pecs twenty-four seven.

I shivered. The night air had a bite to it. I snuggled into Antonio's chest, trying to absorb his body heat. He didn't protest; his arms wrapped around me, warming me to perfection.

"This changes nothing:" his phrase of choice.

"I think it changes everything," I announced bravely. "In fact, I think you're crazy about me." Now I was smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"You do, do you?" His tone had gone dry. Why he bothered beating around the bush, I didn't know.

"Yes I do. In fact, I think you want to kiss me right now." A bold move I knew, but I was feeling confident. I'd seen the way he'd looked at me. I'd heard his thoughts. And although I'd been shy, not wanting him to truly see me bare, my heart fluttered knowing that he had—sort of. Besides, it was only a kiss we were talking about. What harm could come from that?

"Are you a mind reader now?" He scoffed.

"When I'm touching your body . . . yes." Silence. Bingo! A little bit of information he kept forgetting. As long as I was touching his body, I could hear every thought he was having. I guess you're not the only 'two-way radio.'

"Oh for all that's evil, would you just kiss her!" For once I thanked Havoc for her rude interruption.

"You heard the demon," I spoke over my shoulder to him. "Kiss me."

Antonio's hand was on my cheek, turning my face to his. His mouth claimed mine with a fierceness that made my heart pause. His other arm was wrapped around my stomach, pulling my body against his.

"You're right," he breathed across my ear. "I am crazy about you." He kissed me again.

This had to be Heaven in Hell. I wanted Antonio–always. And there was no way I was going to leave this place without him.

"Oh yes you are," his lips whispered a kiss across my ear again, causing me to shiver—and this time it had nothing to do with the cold. "I mean it, Evie. This changes nothing. If you want your father back, there is no other way."

"I won't you both. I'm not leaving without you!" I spun around, my knees landing on his thighs for support. He looked taken aback, as did I. I didn't mean to put myself in such a compromising position. I faltered. I didn't know what to do. Kissing was one thing, but—

Antonio looked at me knowingly and smiled. "You're safe with me."

Of course I was. I smiled at him. Antonio was forever the gentleman.

He laughed outright. "You give me too much credit. I am a guy after all."

He was most definitely a guy. My guy. This time, I leaned in...

* * *

We kissed awhile longer; taking advantage of the time we supposedly had left.

We kissed. What else could we do fifty feet up in the air, straddling a tree limb? Well, maybe we could . . .? Oh, whom was I kidding? Even if we weren't fifty feet up in the air straddling a tree limb, we wouldn't be doing anything more than kissing. I was too shy. I'd proven that to myself earlier. I couldn't even change in front of him without blushing. I wasn't ready for more, and Antonio: well, Antonio had a very definite opinion on what was acceptable behavior for a girl my age; acceptable behavior for me that is. His hands were extremely well behaved.

As they should be," he grinned once again addressing my inner thoughts.

I frowned. How was he ever going to take me seriously if he continued to view me as a little girl? "You know, I'm seventeen in a few days."

"And you will be just as sweet as you are now." He kissed my forehead softly. For some reason, sweet didn't sound so fun. It was time to change the subject.

"So, what are Borgons anyway?" I asked casually after what was the best make-out session of my life. Okay, it was the only make out session of my life, but there would never be another that would top it!

"Oh, I don't know about that." I could hear Antonio smiling. He cradled me on his lap, holding me close.

"Borgons?" I reminded him sleepily, my eyes falling shut.

"They're a hideous three foot long rat that eats the flesh off living creatures," he answered.

My eyes popped open.

"Sweet dreams!" Havoc called out.

Sweet dreams? Was she kidding? I spent most of the night jumping at every noise I heard. My heart raced with anticipation, and it wasn't because I was snuggled up to the hottest guy on the planet.

"Go to sleep." Antonio sighed for the hundredth time.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Where do I start? I'm stuck up a tree. Giant rodents are waiting to eat my flesh off. And my butt will have a permanent indentation from this branch in the morning."

Antonio's body shook with laughter.

"You really suck, you know that?"

"I'm sorry." He rubbed his hands up and down my arms like he'd done all night, trying to warm me. "I'm just trying to picture that."

"Would you like a visual?" I snapped, as I moved to get up.

"No!" Antonio wrapped his arms around my body, holding it to his. "It could be worse you know, we could be down there," he motioned with a quick jerk of the head.

Damn! Why did he have to say that? And why did I look down? Borgons had been gnawing at the base of our tree for hours now. Attempting too saw it down with their razor-sharp teeth. I only hoped daylight would come before they made any real damage to the trunk.

"I bet you two wish you could crawl into this hole with me?" Havoc's voice broke through the night. She hadn't spoke in hours. I'd almost forgotten about her—almost.

"You okay over there?" Part of me felt bad that she was alone in that tree, until a twig bounced off my forehead.

"What the—"

I'm fine," Havoc giggled. "Just a little bored."

That little brat was going to pay for that. "That could have hit me in the eye you know!"

"So, Antonio," Havoc began, not paying me any attention. "Tell me, when was the last time you've been to Hell?" I could hear the malice in her voice. What was she up to now?

Antonio cleared his throat. "It's been almost three years," he admitted reluctantly.

"Hmm. I wonder if the big guy will remember you?" she half-laughed.

"What does she mean by that?" I asked looking behind me at Antonio. I could just make out his features in the moonlight. They looked troubled.

"Havoc's just trying to make a situation," Antonio said, brushing her off.

"Well, we're not going there for a trip down memory lane," I snapped in her direction. "We're going there to rescue my father. Speaking of which, Havoc? How do you know my father's in Hell again?" Yes, I knew it was a little late to be asking her this question.

Antonio stiffened. "Please tell me you're joking?"

I glanced behind me, cringing slightly. "She mentioned something in class and I just took her word for it. Then Miles told me my dad was missing . . . You even said he was here. By the way, how did you know he'd been taken?"

"I cannot explain it. I simply knew."

Would the abundance of unanswered questions never end? He simply knew? Did he think I was going to accept that?

"Oh he's in Hell alright," Havoc assured. "Chaos told me."

"Who is Chaos?" Antonio asked. Apparently he hadn't been listening when Havoc was tormenting me with the details of her love life.

"He's my boyfriend; although he doesn't really know it yet. But he is definitely my boyfriend—or will be! As soon as he sees how amazingly hot I look in this outfit," she sighed contentedly, "he won't stand to be away from me!"

I wanted to strangle her. "Havoc! Can you focus here?"

"Quiet. I'm having a moment."

"So help me Havoc, if you don't—"

"Fine! Do you have anything to trade?"

"She's dead!" I jumped up, preparing to run the length of my branch and leap into her tree, when the base of our tree shook.

"Ahahh!" I fell, grabbing hold of the limb as I went. I landed hard on my ribs, the wind knocked out of me. Antonio had me by the arm and pulled my dangling lower half up.

The Borgons were hard at work, screeching and gnawing at the wood below.

"I might have let you sit in my tree, if you hadn't been so nasty just now. You two can just squirm over there."

"I'm going to kill her," I choked.

"Havoc, I believe Evie asked you a question." Antonio was trying a more direct approach. "You will receive payment as soon as we are able to reach you."

I'll reach her. I'll reach my hands around her little neck and—

Evie!

I huffed: Fine, try it your way.

"I think I'd like something sparkly. You know; something to go with my many outfits. Chaos isn't going to be able to keep his eyes off me," she boasted.

"Perhaps if you'd wash your hair," I growled.

"Eeek! Don't say that." She sounded aghast.

"Am I missing something?" I asked, to no one in particular.

The tree shook again. At this rate, we'd be catapulting into Havoc's tree within the hour.

"Pixie's do not wash their hair," she explained. "Yuck!"

Okay . . . she was totally disgusted with the idea of clean hair. I recalled the first time I'd seen her. She was nasty looking. Her hair was as dirty and gross as it is now. Her clothing was ragged. Hell, they were rags. They were torn and filthy, covered in soot and ash. Now she sported a tight pink mini skirt, and a white cashmere top of all things—courtesy of Iris' Barbie doll. Not to mention the crystal barrette she conned out of me.

"Wait! Are you saying my hair is gross?" I asked in disbelief.

"No. I'm sure it's nice for you." She cleared her throat. "All clean and smelly."

"Smelly!" I hadn't realized until now that I was shouting. The noise from below was getting louder and louder. They must be getting closer than I thought.

Antonio gripped my arm, pulling me back down onto his lap. The tree was sturdy and I was glad for it. Antonio's lap was even sturdier. I leaned into him, gathering strength to not kill Havoc.

"Pixies never wash their hair," he explained quietly. "It wouldn't be practical. They live deep down in the depths of Hell. The dirtier one is, the more likely they can blend in. Drawing attention to one self is not a good thing."

I thought about that. Havoc's racy outfit would certainly draw attention to her. Maybe I should toss her in the mud a few times. You know, just to grunge her up a little. A grin replaced the scowl on my face. Maybe if I stepped on her while she was in the mud—

Do not forget the wrath of a pixie! Antonio warned.

I shrugged, remembering Christina's pixie attacking her in class. Still, it might be worth it.

"I said, I think I'd like something shiny!" Havoc shouted from her hole.

I rolled my eyes at miss one-track-mind. "Fine. 'Something shiny!'"

"And you have to smile when you give it to me. I don't want to trade with someone who pouts."

I'm going to kill her . . . slowly. No! I'm going to wash her hair. Twice! With conditioner!

Antonio laughed.

"What's so funny?" Havoc called out suspiciously.

"Nothing!" I took a granola bar out of my bag and took a bite.

# Chapter 18

"You said you knew where my dad was?" I tried to get us back on track.

"Yes. Chaos said your dad is being guarded by the Daimonas. And that guy Roland, your boyfriend, he's there too."

I choked on my snack. "Roland? He's dead! Antonio killed him!"

I looked behind me. Antonio looked as confused as I was.

"Oh, he's not dead. The pixie's are playing with him," she spoke excitedly. "He's not much fun though. Chaos says he cries a lot."

"No. I saw Roland turn into a gargoyle! Antonio stabbed him in the head!" The memory made my stomach churn all over again.

"He killed a gargoyle, but not Roland," Havoc reminded me.

"The Daimonas do not keep survivors," Antonio insisted. "The real Roland has to be dead."

Havoc shrugged her shoulders. "They took Roland in the hopes that the Child of Light would come looking for him. They thought he might be dear to her . . . that was, until they captured her father. Now Roland's of no use to them so the pixies—"

"Wait a freaking minute!" I had to catch my breath. The real Roland is in Hell, waiting for me to rescue him?"

"You really are slow, Child of Light. Haven't I been telling you that? Now, enough free information; anymore will cost you."

I gnashed my teeth at her. If Roland had been captured by the Daimonas and switched with a gargoyle . . . "then who kissed me in The Kitchen?"

"I don't think that is relevant right now," Antonio warned, clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

"The hell it isn't!" That was my first kiss, and I had to know if it had been with a human or a beast from Hell! "Havoc?"

She huffed. "How would I know who kissed you? Perhaps you should be pickier with whom you choose to lock lips with. Really Child of Light . . . gargoyles, Mageians, Guardians! Is there anyone you won't kiss?"

I gasped. "That's it!" My patience snapped. I jumped up and ran the length of the branch. Antonio was on my heel. The branch protested as we neared its tip, cracking under our weight—and so did the base of the tree.

Our tree toppled, crashing into Havoc's. We literally jumped from our tree into hers, dangling our feet in the air, inches from sharp, snapping Borgon teeth.

"Well, that's just great! Now the little beasts will start gnawing on my tree!"

"A little help here, Havoc?" I grunted, trying to swing my foot onto the branch.

"Oh, you want some help do you? Just a moment ago you wanted to kill me. And don't try to deny it!" She folded her arms and turned her back to me, sulking.

"Fine, I won't kill you! But you'd better help us or I'll toss this gold bracelet to the Borgons!"

"Gold? Real gold?" She licked her lips.

"Of course it's real gold." Now I was offended. "Do you think I'd own—?"

"Havoc!" Antonio grunted. He was struggling himself, burdened with our packs as well. How smart of him to grab them. He shot me an exasperated look.

"Oh, all right. I suppose I could help," Havoc admitted as a sly grin crossed her face. "It's going to cost you though."

"Havoc, please!" My arms wouldn't hold me much longer.

"How about that ring too? I think it would look lovely around my wrist."

"Fine!" I shouted.

"It's a trade then." She clapped her hands excitedly. "I should have done it sooner, but it was so much fun watching the two of you struggle." She clapped her hands again in delight. "I don't want to be accused of coddling you."

Two things crossed my mind: First, Kill Havoc. Second, Kill Havoc slowly.

"I vote for slowly," Antonio groaned, hooking his foot on the limb at last.

"Hold on now!" Havoc pointed her hands toward the ground. "It's going to get a little bumpy." She parted them to her sides.

The earth shook below us. A large crack broke through the soil a moment later, opening wider and wider. The Borgons were being swallowed up one by one, screeching in agony as they fell into the fiery chasm of . . . Hell? Oh crap!

"Evie!" Antonio had my wrist and was pulling me up to safety.

We held each other, looking down at the flames that licked the tree trunk, parts of it now catching on fire.

"There," Havoc announced. "I just shaved a day off your journey. No need to thank me, but I will take my trades now."

My eyes were wide. I'd heard stories of Hell. I'd even pictured the fires that must engulf it constantly. I just hadn't dreamed that I'd been right. Pools of lava flowed below us. Tall flames jumped into the air, scorching anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its path. I cringed into Antonio, hiding my face from the heat. He gripped me tighter, as if his strength would shield me from what was to come.

"How are we supposed to get through that?" I rasped. The smoke from the fire was burning my throat.

"Silly me, I forgot the steps!" Havoc summoned the path, hissing words I couldn't understand. Large boulders staggered their way down into the flames, providing a "safe" entrance into Hell. She held her hand out to me—I dropped the promised trades into her palm.

"Home sweet home," she sighed. A fond expression hung heavy on her face. "Shall we?" She jumped out of the tree and onto a boulder below us. She continued on, going from one boulder to another, skipping as she went. I half expected her to be incinerated on the spot, but hindsight, it wasn't getting into hell I figured we'd have a problem with; it was getting out.

"I'll go first." Antonio held my face for a moment, his eyes, speaking words of caution, and worry, and . . . love? Maybe I was imagining that last part, but there was definitely something in his eyes—my luck it was probably smoke.

He released me and dropped from the tree, also landing on the boulder Havoc had first occupied. His arms extended back up to me. "Jump! I'll catch you."

This was it. There was no going back now.

I called out to Havoc. "Havoc! My dad?"

"He's still alive, Child of Light. I'm not sure for how long. He's growing weaker by the day." Somehow I could feel that she was right. Havoc wasn't joking now or being greedy. She asked for nothing in trade for that information. She was offering the truth, and I could hear the ring in her voice. I believed her.

I jumped into Antonio's waiting arms.

* * *

Down, down, down. We descended slowly into the fiery depths. The sky had long since left us. We were now deep into the underground, surrounded by charred rock and ash.

Oh dear God. I just stepped on something crunchy. Eww, eww, eww! Don't look, don't . . . oh my God! Bones . . .

Antonio gripped my hand tighter.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Havoc giggled. "Okay, yes I do, but we're about to enter the Ragno's den."

I froze. "Ragnos? As in, more than one?" Please say no, please say no.

Antonio pulled me into his side. "We need a plan."

"A plan, yes!" Havoc was jumping up and down. "Let's see. Oh, I know! We'll send the Child of Light in first and while they're feasting on her, we can sneak around—"

I was squeezing Havoc's scrawny neck in the next instant. "You witch! You'd like that wouldn't you. I'll bet my dad isn't even here. This was all a sick trick to bring me here so I can open your stupid door and let all you monsters out!"

Havoc choked and sputtered. Her little face began to turn blue but I held tight.

"Evie! Let her go!" Antonio pried my fingers off her neck, yanking me away from her. He wrapped his arms around me like a vise. I thrashed to get free.

Havoc brought her hands to her neck, gasping and coughing with each breath of air that passed through her. I watched angrily as she rubbed the circulation back in her throat.

"Oh you will pay for that, Child of Light. Find your own way!" Poof!

"Where'd she go?" I broke free from Antonio's hold, and spun around frantically. She'd disappeared! "I didn't know she could do that!" I exclaimed, still searching the tunnel for any trace of her.

"Once in Hell, her powers are much stronger," Antonio explained.

Who needed the annoying little pest around anyway, insulting me at every turn? Good riddance!

"Come." Antonio pulled me along. He was clearly in a bad mood now. Why? What did he care if she was gone? It's not like they were "BFFs" or anything. "She could have helped us," he explained.

"Antonio." I reached for his arm, halting him. "What if she's wrong? What if you were wrong? What if my dad's not even here?" What if I brought us here to die? A tear escaped my eye.

"Don't think like that." He turned toward me; his hands softly rubbed my arms. "It will be okay. We'll find your father, Evie, and you will return home."

I stared into his chocolate brown eyes, guilt consuming me. I would return home . . . but not Antonio. My heart melted into a pool of despair . . . and then it stopped.

"Evie, what is it?" Antonio gripped my shoulders firmly, shaking me to attention. "Evelyn!"

"We're in . . . Hell." The last word stuck in my throat.

"Yes."

"You said you couldn't leave unless you offered a soul," I prompted: "A soul other than your own."

His hands dropped. "That is correct."

"Please tell me that you offered mine." I waited for his response. Nothing! "Antonio! Tell me that you offered my soul!"

His hand reached up and caressed my cheek. I'll die before I let them have you. "How could I condemn you here?" There was love in his eyes!

"Yes. There is love in my eyes and in my heart. I traded my soul for yours, Evie." His devotion was unwavering.

I was speechless—a common response for the day's "shockers." I stepped back, my eyes truly taking him in for the first time. He was tall and strong. His body muscled and disciplined. His eyes and heart, determined to see this through.

Foolish man! Back at the school, he spent his time distancing himself from me. Pretending he didn't have feelings for me. Saying I was too young for him . . . for what? Some obligation he felt to my father? My age? But here, here he'd kissed me. Here he'd admitted his feelings for me. The look in his eyes now confirmed that it was more than mere attraction he felt for me. The look in his eyes said he'd protect me ferociously. The look in his eyes said he was in love with me. Forget the look. He'd admitted it! He loved me.

My eyes narrowed. There was no way he was going to get away with this. I shook my head. "Undo it. I won't let you trade your soul for mine. No way."

It's too late. It is done." In other words, the subject was closed for discussion. The hell it was! I'd find some way to break this vow, even if I had to beg Satan himself.

"The Ragnos!" Antonio jumped in front of me. His staff extended.

The spiders were invading our den—hundreds of them. I looked at my staff. There was no freaking way I was going to fight off a fraction of them. Antonio was already battling. He was a true Slayer; a warrior in every sense of the word; killing any and all Ragno that got within a yard of us. He was so cute!

"Evie, watch your back!"

I spun around and uttered the first word to come to mind. "Fotio!" The Ragno was frozen, suspended in air. Cool! And it wasn't even sucking much power from me.

"Your hands!" Antonio grunted as he ran his staff through another Ragno. "Look at them."

I held them up to my face. They were . . . glowing? A tremendous amount of force was building up as the light pulsated from them.

Use the light to turn them to stone. A voice echoed inside my head. I looked at Antonio. He was busy fighting off a particularly nasty looking Ragno. Green goo was now dripping from a wound in its abdomen.

Use the light! There it was again. I hesitated for a moment. Petra! The voice commanded.

I didn't think about it. I aimed my palms away from me. "Petra!" The light radiated from my fingertips, and shot across the cavern. Anything in its path was instantly turned to stone.

Antonio spun around. He leapt toward me, slaying a Ragno that had snuck up behind me. I held my chest, trying to hold my heart in place.

"Evie, look out!"

"Petra!" I shouted over and over again, my hands aiming in all directions. We were surrounded in seconds by hundreds of stone Ragnos.

My hands ached. The light had gone from them, leaving a red burn across the palms.

"Evie!" Antonio caught me as I crumpled to my knees. His arms encircled me, pulling me into his chest.

"Your eyes . . ." He studied them for a moment.

"What? What's wrong with them?"

"Never mind," he shook his head. "It must be my imagination." He turned my palms up. "Here, let me take care of them." He reached into his pack.

"No! I may need them again. I don't want them restricted." Small blisters had already begun to form.

"You were amazing. Where did you learn to do that?" Antonio ignored my request, and applied the ointment anyway.

"Ow! I didn't learn that. I've never done that spell before. The voice told me to do it." I studied my hands, examining the welts that covered them.

"A voice? What voice?" Antonio looked uneasy. I couldn't blame him. I'd just said I was hearing voices in my head for crap sake. He probably thought I was losing it!

"I don't know? I thought it was you at first, but then . . . it sounded like . . . never mind." I brushed the ridiculous thought away. There was no way my dad could have told me to do that. I mean, I'd have known if he could talk to me like Antonio, telepathically. There was no way he would keep something like that from me, right? Like he didn't keep the fact that he was a famous Slayer from me, or that I was in mortal danger from being kidnapped by demons from Hell. I suddenly felt like I should be eating a piece of humble pie. Damn! I hated the thought of having to apologize to Havoc. My dad was here. It had to be his voice I heard.

"Can you walk?" Antonio helped me to my feet and wrapped his arm around my waist for support. It wasn't necessary, but I didn't protest.

I looked up at him. His lips were so close to mine. I stared at them, longing for another taste. My heart began to pound with such intensity I swear he could hear it.

He smiled. Antonio was looking at me like he did that day in class when he'd thrown me to the ground, his body pinning me down for twenty glorious seconds.

"You are so beautiful." The words flooded my head. He thought I was beautiful! I squealed with excitement—in my head of course—which he heard.

You are more than beautiful . . . He leaned in, his lips grazing mine once, twice.

"So you finely agree I'm a grown woman?" A stretch I knew, but hey, this was an incredibly romantic situation. I wanted Antonio to view me as an equal, not as some kid.

He laughed heartily, a rarity for him. "That's still debatable."

"But I'm datable right?" I know, I know. I was totally showing my age by pressing the issue. I needed confirmation. Some kind of verbal assurance that Antonio and I were a couple now—we had to be!

He wasn't about to give it to me. In Antonio's mind, time for us was fleeting. He had me in a lip-locking kiss before I could argue the point. I decided we could resume the argument later, when my head wasn't up in the clouds. Man could he kiss! I sunk into the little bit of Heaven I'd been given.

# Chapter 19

"Oh please! Only you two would be kissing at a time like this. How high school!"

We spun around, our staffs at the ready and pointing right at... Havoc?

"I thought you were mad at us?" My eyes narrowed. I didn't trust the little hellion farther than I could throw her. Damn. I owed her an apology.

"I am." She crossed her arms turning her back to me. "But I promised Iris that I'd help you and I never break a promise."

"You mean you can't." Antonio smirked. "Not when you make a trade for it."

Havoc stomped her foot. "Whatever the reason, I'm back."

"Havoc," I took a step toward her. "I'm sorry for accusing you of lying. I shouldn't have tried to . . . kill you." The apology hurt more than it should.

She nodded, lifting her chin slightly. "I'll show you where your father is, and Roland," she added reluctantly. "They're not far."

Roland! I'd forgotten about Roland. What was I going to do with him? Was he still my, sort of boyfriend? And why did I have to think so loudly? I could feel the instant tension emanating from Antonio.

"We will help Roland, and then find your father. The sooner you leave this place the better." He picked up his gear and followed Havoc without another word.

Okay . . . what's with him? Was he jealous? No, not jealous of Roland? No way. Antonio was way too confident to be jealous of anyone! He'd break Aubree's hot-o-meter in a second. He couldn't think for one minute I'd possibly want Roland Vandenberg over him. Could he? They weren't even in the same league for crap sake! And Roland hadn't kissed me the way Antonio had, melting every bone in my body. At least I hoped it was Roland.

"Evie!" My honey called.

"Coming!" I hurried along, making my way in between the stone Ragno's, their petrified bodies giving me a severe case of the heebie-jeebies.

We followed Havoc through a dark tunnel and over a bridge made of— I could almost taste the vomit in my mouth. "Why are there bones everywhere?" I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer. On second thought, I knew I didn't.

"Oh, they're left over from the Mageian's." Havoc shouted over her shoulder casually as she hurried along, kicking a femur bone to the side.

I held my stomach, silently praying for forgiveness to these souls for having to use their remains as a path. I could say I'd go to Hell for this, but since I was already here . . .

I stopped behind Antonio. He was standing at the edge of a . . . river? "What is it?" I hadn't realized I'd whispered the question.

"It's the River of Souls." Antonio sighed. "These are the souls of the dammed, and the tortured."

I gulped. I could hear the distant cries from the river, the pained screams from the souls passing by. "Are we supposed to swim across it?" Please say no, please say no.

"Only if you want to stay there," Havoc teased.

"No. Do not touch the water or you will forever be a part of the river, your soul, lost, to him."

He never said who "him" was. He didn't have to. I could guess. I shivered.

"We must find another way across it." Antonio spoke to Havoc now.

"There isn't. Unless you're me," she grinned and disappeared again. "Hey! Over here!" She shouted from the other side of the river, her arms waving wildly.

"That's great for you, but what about us?" I shouted back. As if Antonio and I could simply beam across like she did. Someone's been watching a little too much Sci-Fi on the "tele".

"Sorry! I only wish I could teach it. It's a gift." She sat down on a rock and relaxed while Antonio and I racked our brains trying to find some way we might cross without getting wet.

Turn the water to ice.

I glanced at Antonio. He was busy sizing up some boulders. Debating whether or not we could use them to somehow leapfrog our way across the river—as if!

"What if I . . . I don't know, freeze the water?" I glanced his way.

He spun around. "You can do that?" He looked at me like I was a gold metal champion.

"I don't know, maybe?" It was true, I didn't know. I only suggested it because the "voice" told me to do it. It had been right before. So maybe . . .

"Try! But do not touch the water," Antonio warned again.

I stepped to the water's edge and knelt down, placing my hands just above it. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the faces that passed along the current.

Pagos! The voice commanded.

"Pagos." The light shot from my palms again, the blisters bursting from the heat. I cried out this time, the pain excruciating.

"Evie stop!" Antonio gripped my shoulders, trying to pull me away. But the force of the spell held me.

"No, look!" Havoc cried from across the river.

The river was slowing . . . the water . . . crystallizing before our eyes. It was icing over!

"You're doing it Child of Light!" Havoc was jumping up and down excitedly.

The light from my hands had dissipated. A path of ice, big enough for the two of us to walk across had formed. It stretched from one side of the riverbank to the other, a good fifty feet or so.

I stood; my knees shakier than before. I felt drained now, mentally and physically. "I hope it's not much further."

"You need to rest. Your—" I couldn't read the expression on Antonio's face. His image was all wrong. He looked red to me, like I was staring at him through 3-D glasses.

"What is it?" I panicked.

"Nothing, it's nothing." He put his arm around me, and carefully escorted me across the ice.

It creaked under the weight of us, but it held. We made our way slowly, careful not to put too much pressure on any one spot. We both sighed when we finally stepped onto the bank beside Havoc.

"That was clever. I've never seen—" Havoc stopped talking. Her mouth gaped open and for the first time, she was speechless. She looked at me with the same uneasy expression Antonio had.

"What? Why do the two of you keep staring at me like that?" They looked at me like I had bugs crawling in my hair. "Oh my God, do I have bugs in my hair? I started flicking my hair nervously.

"Your eyes, they're red!" Havoc finally spoke.

"What?" I stopped dancing. I looked to Antonio. He nodded in agreement—with Havoc?

"They're red?" I asked him. Antonio did have a reddish hue to his skin. So did Havoc for that matter.

He nodded again.

"I must have burst a blood vessel or something." Those weren't easy spells. To say they sucked a lot of energy from me would be an understatement.

A loud scream echoed from a nearby tunnel.

Havoc groaned. "That would be boyfriend number one."

"Roland?" I gasped.

Antonio frowned. Either from being indirectly referred to as boyfriend number two, or the fact that I'd acknowledged Roland as boyfriend number one. Either way, I was in the doghouse.

"Yes," Havoc answered. "He's been rather a nuisance. I think the pixies will actually be glad to get rid of him."

"So they'll just let him go?" I asked excitedly. Finally, something sounding like it was going to be easy.

Antonio scoffed. "No. They'll fight us."

"Duh! Of course they'll fight you. They won't let you just waltz in there and take what is theirs. Pixies never turn down a fight," she boasted.

"Great." More Havocs! "I suppose you'll help them?"

"Well, I can't side with you." She looked aghast. "They'll call me a traitor!"

"You're going to fight against us?" Antonio snapped. He looked like he might strangle her himself.

She huffed as if we were putting her out. "I suppose I could just kick you in the ankle a few times. You know, just to appear like I'm trying to stop you."

"Thanks," Antonio replied dryly.

"No problem," Havoc gushed totally unaware, or simply not caring that Antonio was glowering at her.

"So, how do we fight the pixies? Without killing them," I added quickly.

Havoc smiled in appreciation. Damn! I was growing soft.

* * *

I don't think anything could have prepared me for what I was about to see: Roland tied to a spit, being turned gently over a flame. Okay, it was a really, really, really small flame. But still, who would call him a baby for screaming?

"Demons . . . let me go!" He screeched louder than any girl I'd ever heard. Poor, Roland. He must be so scared.

Havoc giggled.

"That's not funny," I scolded.

Antonio snorted, encouraging Havoc to laugh all the more.

I gave him a pointed look.

"Oh please. They aren't really going to roast him. They're just having a little fun. Besides, Mageian taste bad," Havoc mock gagged.

Like she should talk. I'll bet she tastes like a chewy old shoe. I'll bet—

Evie! Antonio silently warned, all humor aside.

I would have rolled my eyes mentally if I could have. Antonio could be such a killjoy at times. He's lucky he's so cute. I could forgive him the little annoyances.

You're so kind.

Was it too much to ask for a little private time in my head? Quit listening to me! I stomped my foot.

Very mature!

I stuck my tongue out at him, further displaying my "maturity."

"I sure hope I don't look that ridiculous when I stomp my foot," Havoc remarked as if the very idea was unthinkable.

I sighed. "Can we please stick to the task? Roland!"

"Okay, here's the plan." Antonio pulled me behind the wall, and squatted down in front of me. He took a stick and drew a map in the dirt, and noting Roland's location. "We're here," he began. "Havoc! Will you stop that?" Antonio swiped a twig away from her. She'd drawn a roasting spit below Antonio's drawing of Roland and was in the process of adding some squiggly lines that looked like flames.

Havoc folded her arms in a pout. "I'm just trying to add realistic detail."

Detail my ass. She loved this.

"I think our best bet is to charge in. They have no idea we're here. We'll have the element of surprise," Antonio said.

"For about five seconds!" Havoc rolled her eyes at him. "Men are so cocky sometimes."

"You have a better idea? One that won't put us on a spit beside Roland's," he growled.

"I might; for a trade." Havoc eyed the last bit of jewelry I had.

"No way! It's an exact copy of Princess Diana's sapphire and diamond engagement ring! Just not as expensive, or as big." There was no way, no way in Hell—no pun intended—that I was giving her this ring. Nope! I ain't gonna do it. Noooo way. I folded my arms across my chest.

"Well, I want it. Besides, it would look much better on me then it does you."

She really was an impossible little monster at times. "It won't even fit you." I had my hands on my hips now, giving her a haughty look.

"I'll wear it around my other wrist." She smiled like it was a done deal.

"Forget it Havoc, it ain't happening."

"Do you want your boyfriend or not?" She'd folded her arms, mimicking me.

Antonio motioned for me to give her the ring.

"Oh, that's easy for you. She's not stripping you of every valuable you've got."

"Oh lighten up, Child of Light. You should thank me. It's not like I'm asking for your pink underwear. If we were the same size—"

"Alright!" Antonio jumped up, his cheeks flushed with rose. "Could we please focus on the problem at hand?" He sounded flustered–at the mention of pink underwear?

"Evie!"

"Fine! But you better have a good plan. And you don't get it until we have Roland. And we're safely away from your little . . . friends." I motioned towards the direction of the Pixie's cave.

"Then it's a trade?" Her beady little eyes fixed on my sapphire and diamond ring. I could feel her mentally ripping it off my finger. The little beast would probably nibble it off if she could.

"It's a trade," I growled through gritted teeth.

Havoc smiled satisfactorily. "It's easy. Simply offer them something to trade."

Antonio and I looked at one another, and then to Havoc, and then at one another again.

"That's your plan?" There was no way she was getting my ring. "And just what are we supposed to trade with hundreds of pixies? I'm not the Queen of Sheba you know!" Visions of countless pixies raiding my jewelry box played disturbingly in my head.

"Stupid, Child of Light. Do I have to spell out everything for you?" She tsked. "Trade them for the one thing that is most valuable to them." She waited for my golden moment of realization. Unfortunately, she'd be waiting awhile. "Their life!" she blurted out.

If I weren't so confused, I'd yell at her for the "stupid" remark. As it was . . .

"Interesting?" Antonio cupped his chin, deliberating.

Interesting my ass, Havoc couldn't come up with a good idea if it whacked her in the face. Now that was an interesting idea! Maybe I should—

"Evie." Antonio cut my musings short. "Can you not think of one way you might threaten the pixies . . . have them begging for their lives as a trade?"

"Exactly," Havoc exclaimed, her eyes still admiring my ring.

I thought about that. "I suppose I could threaten to turn them to stone like I did the Ragno's?"

"No! You're not turning my friends to stone. You said you wouldn't kill them." She had me on a technicality.

"How about the Imobla charm?" Antonio suggested.

"No. There are too many of them to hold. Besides, as soon as it wears off, they'll be after us. She's right. We need to make a trade that is binding; something that will last." But what could we do to threaten their lives without actually hurting them, or killing them?

Roland screamed out again.

"How do I look?" I turned to Antonio.

His eyes narrowed. "You're worried about your appearance?"

Honestly, did he really think I was that shallow? "My eyes," I clarified. "Are my eyes still red? I don't want to scare Roland. He might think I'm a demon or something and freak out."

"They're fine. They're blue again." Antonio's anger seemed to melt away the longer he looked at me; I felt myself blushing under the intensity of his stare.

"Ahem! The task," Havoc prompted.

Roland had begun a fresh new chorus of screams. I peeked around the rock to see what had provoked him. "Ahahh! Get off me!" A little pixie had me by the nose and was attempting to rip it off my face.

Antonio rushed to my aid. He had just yanked the little varmint from me when a horde of pixies began climbing our legs and covering us in a matter of seconds.

Hundreds? No, there were thousands of them! A little bit of need-to-know information Havoc withheld. They were yanking at our hair and clothing, laughing and jeering wildly at their assumed victory.

For every one I plucked off of me and threw, it was replaced by two more. They came at us from the ground and air, like little insects.

Havoc stayed true to her promise. With all the pulls and little fists of fury beating down on us, I was still able to feel the occasional kick at the ankle. I stomped my feet, secretly hoping I'd step on her little black stilettos.

"Roast them!" A voice shouted over the crowd.

"Yes! Roast them! Roast them!" They began to chant loudly. I could feel my body being pulled and shoved.

Hell no! I was not about to be pixie dinner.

Small rocks began exploding around us. I ducked. Tiny pebbles blasted through the air, pelting the pixies—and me. Antonio! He was slowly blowing up one bolder at a time, creating a diversion for us—a painful diversion. How was he doing that?

"You got a better idea?" He yelled over the explosions.

I wish. If I could just blow these little pests off us, we could get to Roland . . .

"That's it!" I held my hands up toward the ceiling. "Anemos!" And just like that, a strong wind ripped around us. I'd created a mini tornado, moving it through the cavern, across Roland's fire, distinguishing it. It whipped around and around, knocking the little beasts through the air like dust particles; forcing them to take shelter in small holes and cracks in the walls.

Antonio grabbed my waist and pulled me through the windstorm. We made our way slowly over to Roland, and untied him. He fell to the ground with a thud.

"Roland! Are . . . you . . . okay?" I shouted over the wind. I couldn't release the charm. I didn't want to take a chance of being overrun by pixie's again.

Roland stood on shaky legs. His arms wound around me, seeking support.

"Evie? How did you find me?" His baby blues sparkled like wet diamonds. I'd guessed he'd been crying not long ago.

Antonio rolled his eyes at him.

I was about to answer Roland when his lips took mine. He'd found his strength somehow, holding me to him, and passionately thanking me for saving his life.

Somewhere between shock and passing out, I managed to pull back, gasping for air. "You're welcome," I breathed. Then blushed.

"We'd better go," Antonio pointed out harshly.

Antonio! I'd forgotten about Antonio. Oh God. He'd witnessed that assault on my lips. His eyes were not that pool of chocolate I'd dreamt of drinking. They were darker, blacker. His fury was unmistakable.

But, he couldn't be mad at me? I didn't kiss Roland he'd kissed me! True, I didn't jerk away from him, or slap his face for being so bold. He'd surprised me. And I was still trying to control a mini tornado for crap sake! And there was that little bit of confusion as to whether or not Roland thought he was still my sort-of-boyfriend. Technically that had never been agreed upon. But by the kiss Roland just planted on me . . . I'd say he thought so.

Without a backward glance, Antonio stormed off toward an opening, away from the pixie's den. I watched him go for a moment before I pulled Roland along. He'd laced his fingers with mine ages ago, a sight Antonio had not failed to notice. Damn if this didn't complicate things. At least he wasn't a gargoyle anymore!

Antonio cut me a sharp look.

I looked away, pretending not to see.

# Chapter 20

Havoc was waiting for us around the bend, motioning us to hurry. I owed her a few kicks in the leg from her show of loyalty to her friends. Honestly, like they would have noticed she wasn't in on the brawl. I swore I could feel a bruise on my ankle already.

"We're almost to your dad," she said over her shoulder. That would be her saving grace. Only the knowledge that my dad was close by could have distracted me from planning her demise.

I came to a skidding halt, courtesy of Roland who'd stopped in his tracks, grabbed my arm and yanked me back into him.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

Antonio had spun around. His eyes, vigilantly searching our close quarters, settled on Roland.

"We can't go that way. The Daimonas are down there." Roland looked scared. I couldn't help but feel for the guy. I couldn't imagine what he must have endured.

"Here. I'm not that good with it anyway." I handed him my staff, hoping the weapon would give him a sense of security.

He took it from me, staring at it for a moment before his eyes looked into mine. I could see in the limited light a glassy look about them. "Evie, how did you find me?"

Now, really was not the time for questions but I knew by the look on Roland's face, he couldn't move on unless he had a few answers. Where to begin . . .

"Okay, listen, I heard from Havoc here that my dad had been captured and taken to Hell. Then, you turned into a gargoyle during third period biology, and tried to kill me. Only it wasn't you, but we didn't know that at the time. So Antonio had to stab you in the head with his staff. Sorry." I winced at the horrified expression on Roland's face. His eyes flickered to Antonio who still looked as if he could stab Roland all over again.

"Only Antonio didn't really kill you, it was gargoyle you!" I interjected quickly—like this would somehow soften the blow. "But we didn't know that either. By the way, when you kissed me at school in The Kitchen that was you, right? I mean, you weren't a gargoyle then, were you? Anyway, Ms. Leech is a Daimonas, and Gunny is totally going to kick your ass for getting captured."

"What in the hell?" Roland looked at me like my head was whipping around my neck.

I knew exactly how he felt. I unfortunately continued. "Havoc opened a porthole into the Underworld. We fought snakes, a swamp troll, and had to sleep all night in a tree so we wouldn't get eaten by Borgons—who by the way are flesh eating rats! Ms. Powell should have totally covered that in class." I rolled my eyes at the lack of information in that school.

"Anyway, we entered Hell, turned Ragnos to stone, and froze the River of Souls to get across so that we could rescue you from the pixies. I didn't even know you were here until a few hours ago." I panted now, having updated him on the whole adventure thus far. "Now we're going to fight the Daimonas and rescue my dad. I was hoping to be home for dinner." I looked toward the others. Antonio and Havoc shared the same vacant expression. Geez! You'd think they'd just heard this story for the first time instead of having lived it.

"Roland?" I waved my hand in front of his face a few times. He looked petrified. I glanced at Antonio. His expression was completely unreadable.

"Ow!" Roland grabbed his ankle and began hopping up and down on one foot. "What did you do that for?" He snapped angrily at Havoc. "She bit me!"

"Just making sure you're still with us." Havoc smiled meekly.

"Are you up to this, Vandenberg?" Antonio addressed Roland with what sounded like a challenging tone.

"Sure. Fight Daimonas, rescue Evie's dad." He said this like he was reading a grocery list. "No problem."

"Okay then. Let's do this." I moved past the boys and fell into step with Havoc. Who, by the way had a cat-licking-cream expression upon her face. She looked way too pleased . . . why?

"What's the plan, Child of Light? You intend to date the one that lives?"

"No!" How rude! I didn't know what I was going to do actually. I didn't want to hurt Roland. It wasn't his fault he'd turned into a gargoyle. But dang! I'd only agreed to go to a dance with the guy. We kissed like once. We even held hands on occasion. But we'd never said we were going steady . . . and that was before he'd turned into a gargoyle! I think? God. When had my life turned into such a flaming nightmare? I still had to find a way to free Antonio. He was not spending the rest of eternity here. No way.

Do not even think it.

Damn. Was anything private anymore?

"Evie." Roland reached forward, taking my arm once again. "Maybe you should stand behind me. I don't want you up front if a Daimonas attacks."

Aw!

"She can handle herself," Antonio spoke up, quickening his stride to match mine.

"I don't care if she can handle herself," Roland's voice raised an octave. "She's my girlfriend and I don't want her up front. It's too dangerous."

"Isn't that sweet," Havoc squealed. "I could just eat him up."

Roland flinched, the statement apparently hitting a little too close to home.

"I'll be fine. I'd rather something happened to me than to any of you." Well, except for maybe Havoc. She was sticking her tongue out at me. "After all, it's my fault you're all here."

Roland moved up anyway, flanking my other side. The testosterone levels around me were raging. The two guys eyed each other, like roosters, sizing the other up—unbelievable!

"So Vasques, what are you doing here?" Roland tried to make the question sound casual—but the husky tone he sported countered that.

"Evie needed me." His answer: short and sweet. No elaboration what so ever. Roland was going to have to work for information.

"Well, she's got me now." Roland wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his side. "Stay close, I'll look after you." He winked, then leaned over and kissed the top of my head.

I could feel the heat radiating off Antonio. I brushed my arm against his . . . oh so gently . . .

The pompous ass! If he doesn't remove his arm from her right now, I'm going to rip it off. I should have let the pixies roast him! I think I'll rip his lips off too! Do the female population a favor—

I moved my arm away, my whole body instantly flushing. So that's how Antonio felt about Roland cozying up to me. Interesting...

* * *

We made our way if you can believe it, further into the depths of Hell. The path twisting and winding as we descended. The air: getting hotter and hotter as we neared its center. I could feel my skin drying out with each step. Not to mention my mouth. I felt like I'd just been sucking on a cotton ball for the past hour.

"Hey, you think you could kick up that wind storm again," Havoc panted as she fanned herself with . . . a fifty-dollar bill?

"Hey! Did you take that from my bag?"

"Like you need it here," she called over her shoulder.

I frowned. "You couldn't have used a one or a five?"

She snorted: "As if that would have worked as good. It isn't worth as much."

I rolled my eyes. Conversations with Havoc could be extremely painful at times. Pixie logic made me want to scream!

Distant shrieks of pain echoed through the darkness. I found myself gripping onto Antonio's forearm. He pulled me from Roland and wound his arm around me protectively. Even in this extreme heat, Antonio managed to smell amazing.

"Damned souls," Havoc breathed. "You'd think I'd be used to their screaming by now." She held her chest for a moment then walked on.

Roland was close behind her. Despite my protests, he'd insisted that he walk ahead of me. It was kind of . . . sweet.

"Ow!" I narrowed my eyes at Antonio. He'd purposely elbowed me.

"What is it?" Roland turned to shine a flashlight I'd given him at me, nailing me right in the eye.

"Hey!" I shielded my face with my hands.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" He stepped closer for a better look

"Nothing," I squinted. "Get that light away. And keep moving!" I pushed past him, avoiding his stare. I didn't need the flashlight to see anyway. Why didn't I need a flashlight to see? What was happening to me? And why were my eyes red again?

"Were getting closer," Havoc warned. "I wish Chaos was here."

"Call me cautious, but do we really want someone named Chaos helping us?" I cringed at the thought. Havoc was bad enough.

From my lips to Satan's ears, our worst nightmare—well maybe not the worst, but definitely a contender—Chaos appeared.

"You wished my lady?" A little man with a trimmed red beard stood before us. He looked every bit as filthy as Havoc did the first time I'd seen her. He wore little pants, and a tailored coat, both black with ash and dirt. He smiled at Havoc. "Nice outfit!"

She beamed while twirling around for him.

"Your boyfriend's a Leprechaun?" I whispered as close to her as I could.

"I'm not a bloody Leprechaun, Mageian!" He barked "Mageian" like he'd just said something foul.

Antonio stepped beside me, ready to swat the little beast if need be.

"Sorry. It must be the knickers," I snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. "And the beard. If you only had a hat—"

"Alright! I get the point." He cut me a look that screamed shut-up or else.

"Everyone . . . this is Chaos." Havoc stood beside her kind-of-man with pride. "Isn't he scrumptious?"

"Yeah, 'scrumptious.'" Roland eyed Chaos carefully.

"What are you all doing down here?" Chaos grimaced. "It's dreadfully hot."

"We're going to try to rescue the Child of Light's father," Havoc admitted casually.

"We're?" Chaos questioned. "As in, you're helping them?"

"Well, I . . ." Havoc paused, her eyes dropping a little.

"We've traded for her help," Antonio piped in quickly. "It wasn't a cheap trade either!" He added, studying the disapproving look on Chaos' face.

"That's an understatement," I added dryly, eyeballing the small fortune Havoc had conned off me. The little brat had so much bling she gave off her own light!

"Well that's different!" Chaos exclaimed obviously approving of our "arrangement" now.

Havoc gave Antonio a thankful nod.

"So this is the Child of Light, huh?" Chaos spoke to Havoc while eyeing me up and down. Sizing me up and down was more like it. As if he could take me.

Careful Evie, Antonio warned, taking a step closer to me. He is a demon above all else.

I knew that. But I didn't like the way he was talking about me: Like I wasn't even here. "Uh, the Child of Light has a name," I interrupted. "I'm Evie."

Chaos leaned in close to Havoc. "She's a loud one, isn't she?"

"How rude!" I glared at the little beast. He was just as annoying as Havoc, maybe more! How could she look at him like that? Like he was her next drink of water!

"Oh, Chaos isn't rude. He speaks only the truth," Havoc assured. How dare she? I was not loud!

"Well, it's been swell meeting you and all, but my dad is waiting to be rescued." I huffed forward. Havoc could stay if she wished. How could she let Chaos insult me like that! We'd just saved her lousy reputation for crap sake!

"Evie wait!" Roland called from behind. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" I kept up the pace. I didn't have a plan. The whole point to this "little adventure," as Havoc so callously referred to it as, was to rescue my dad. Now that the moment had arrived, I had to admit that I didn't have a clue how I was going to achieve it.

"We'll send Havoc in first," Antonio spoke up from beside me. I hadn't even realized he'd caught up to us. "She's the only one who can move about without raising suspicion."

I hated the thought of having to owe Havoc anything more, but Antonio was right.

"Oh yes, I'll do it!" Havoc called out, clapping her hands excitedly. "For a trade," I could hear the greed in her voice once more. As if I didn't know what she was after. She hadn't quite lived up to her part of the bargain during the pixie attack, so no ring for her—my loophole!

I stopped walking and turned to face her. "Fine, but the information first." I wiggled my finger, acknowledging the "trade" she'd had in mind.

"I'll just be a minute." She pinkie waved at me and disappeared.

"I guess we just wait then?" Roland sighed, leaned his back against the wall, and slid down until he was sitting on the ground. He looked beyond exhausted. He reached up and took my hand, pulling me down beside him.

"We wait." I sighed in agreement.

We waited and waited for what seemed like hours. If Havoc wasn't back soon—

You'll continue to sit here and wait, that's what you'll do.

I glanced at Antonio who sat a few feet away and frowned. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd tackle me to the ground if I so much as made a move to explore.

"Hey!" Roland yelled. "Who did that?"

"Who did—? Ow! Very funny, Roland!" I picked a dirt clod out of my hair and lobbed it at him. "I'm not in a playing mood."

"It wasn't me! Umph!" A giant clump of earth, the size of a dinner plate, landed on Roland's head, ricocheted off him and smacked me in the cheek.

"OW!" Dirt was raining down on our heads. I made the mistake and looked up—with my mouth open. I would be spitting dirt out of my mouth from now until the day I died—which may not be that far off.

"It's a cave in!" Antonio dove toward me, grabbing me up in his arms.

"Hey!" Roland snapped. He reached out for me but Antonio was too quick. He was already moving through the tunnel, searching for an opening.

We dodged bits of earth and rock as we made our way out. Roland was close behind, choking on the dust from the debris.

"What caused that?" I coughed, trying to catch my breath. We now stood, hunched over, gasping in what appeared to be another cavern. Antonio's hand was on my back, rubbing it softly.

"That would be me." We all looked down at Chaos. He shrugged, mildly repentant. "I'm afraid when I stay in one place too long . . . things start to fall apart around me." He shrugged again.

Another bit of need-to-know information Havoc left out. I growled mentally.

"Hey! Why'd you guys move?"

I spun around. Havoc was at my heels.

"Did you see my dad?" I knelt down beside her. "Is he alright?"

"Yes, Child of Light, your father's alive."

I jumped up excitedly, my eyes searching for Antonio. Where the hell was he? "Antonio?"

I looked back at Havoc. Her smile faded, her eyes holding the truth.

"Where is he Havoc?" My voice cracked. I looked back toward the tunnel. He'd made it through. He'd been dragging me. So where was he?

"They have him," She admitted.

"What?" My eyes searched our surroundings again, hoping I'd missed Antonio somehow. "How?"

She pointed to a fiery pit that had spontaneously opened before our eyes. "He . . . is waiting for you."

# Chapter 21

I jumped back. The sudden blast of scorching heat hit me like a brick wall. I could feel my make-up melting like candle wax, dripping down my face.

"Down there?" I shouted.

A cacophony of agonizing screams howled from the flaming abyss. Impossible! There was no way anything could survive in that.

"Jump . . . Child of Light!" a familiar voice commanded. Evil laughter hissed all around me, enveloping my senses like a snake swallowing its prey. I was being consumed by a mysterious pull . . . luring . . . summoning . . . drawing me in. "Jump!"

I stepped back in alarm. That voice . . . it wasn't my father's! Despite the extreme heat, I suddenly felt chilled to my core. And then I knew. It had been him all along helping me each step of the way: Offering spells I'd never heard of, giving me the confidence and strength I never had. He wanted me here. Alive! And I'd practically gift wrapped myself for him. This was it. If I wanted my father and Antonio back, there was nowhere to go . . . but down!

"Evie, what are you doing?" Roland wrapped his arms around my waist and was dragging me from the fire's edge. "You'll be killed!"

I struggled to break free, hot tears streaming down my face.

"No!" Havoc sprang to my shoulder and kicked Roland square in the nose, causing blood to spurt across the back of my neck. He howled in pain, releasing me for his face. "If she doesn't go, they'll be lost. We'll all be lost."

I took a deep breath and leapt. "Acqua!" I wasn't a total fool. If I was going to jump, there was no way I was jumping into a pit of flames—water on the other hand was a safer alternative—if only I knew how to swim.

I broke through the water's surface and sank like a rock, spiraling down deeper and deeper. I tried to push the panic of drowning from my mind and let myself drift, knowing that soon I'd be reunited with my father, and hopefully, Antonio. I prayed they were safe.

At that instant it felt as if a thousand knives were plunging into my stomach all at once. I screamed out in pain, taking water in. Note to self: Only a dumb ass opens her mouth to scream when she's submerged in a seemingly endless pool of water.

And that's when I saw a figure moving toward me, reaching out and then grabbing for my arms . . . I was being rescued. Roland, the fool, had dived in and was pulling me back to the surface.

Although I wanted desperately to accept his help, I shook my head violently, signaling him no. I had to keep going down, hopeful that the one who wanted me so badly would not let me drown.

Aeras! I screamed mentally. We were suddenly suspended in air. Our eyes met for an instant. I could actually feel the shock emanating from Roland. And then—free fall!

"Ahahh!" There was no need for me to scream. Roland was doing enough for the both of us. Besides, I was too busy choking up water. We clung to one another like a pair of professional skydivers as we plummeted downward.

"Anyone got a parachute?" Havoc and Chaos were heading our way, shooting through the air like bullets. They slammed into my back like buckshot—I didn't think I'd needed to pack a bulletproof vest this trip!

I cried out, taking the full brunt of the impact as we came crashing down, literally at what could be none other than Satan's feet. I moaned. This was so not good.

"At last we meet . . . Child of Light."

I scooted back, plowing over Roland as I retreated—who, by the way, tough Slayer that he is, had in turn scrambled over me in a clumsy game of leap frog. Such chivalry!

I jumped to my feet, my hands quickly patting down my pant pockets. Damn! I'd forgotten I'd given Roland my staff—like he was going to use it—the wimp!

"You can't be foolish enough to be looking for a weapon?" Satan laughed lightly, "As if any weapon could harm me."

I cringed. His laugh was like death. Who was I kidding? It was death; he was death. Or was he? He was tall, standing about six-foot or so, with wavy black hair that hung just above the nape of his neck. His eyes . . . raven black. He was muscled, more than Antonio, yet he didn't look much older than him. Weird! Shouldn't Satan be like, ancient or something? And where were the horns?

"Havoc, Chaos, my friends." He smiled warmly at them. "Thank you for bringing Evie to me."

I glowered at the pair and began planning several ways to ensure their untimely demise.

"Fear not my dear, Evie. Havoc and Chaos did not betray you," he spoke, as if reading my mind. "Had I not wanted you so desperately, I would not be so forgiving of their betrayal . . . to me that is. Havoc seems to have been helping you, has she not?"

A lump lodged in my throat. I stood there, frozen. In the hottest place imaginable, I shivered. "Where's my dad?" I croaked.

"How inconsiderate of me, of course you wish to see your father. Please, follow me." His words were polite enough. But he was Satan. I didn't trust him further than I could throw him—judging by his muscle mass, the very idea was comical.

"I don't think I want to." I planted my feet firmly where I stood. Roland stayed behind me with his hands resting on my shoulders. I think he needed the support.

"Young man, you don't look well. Sit!" Roland propelled backward, his body slamming into a chair that hadn't been there a moment earlier. His mouth gaped open as if to speak. He quickly changed his mind, his wide eyes meeting mine.

"You're afraid." A sheepish smile returned to Satan's face. "I understand. But truly, you have nothing to fear," said the spider to the fly.

An old man suddenly appeared at my feet. He was curled up tight in a ball, his feeble body trembling violently.

"What the . . ." My heart skidded to a halt. "Daddy . . .?"

George Hollyander turned his head to look up at me. He didn't have the strength to stand. The once great man had been reduced to a thin, frail, pile of bones.

"Dad . . .!" I dropped to my knees and cradled his head on my lap. His eyes watered; his mouth, too dry to speak. I leaned over and hugged his face, ignoring the smell of sulfur and ash that clung to him. "Oh, Daddy . . ." I blinked, furiously fighting the urge to cry. How fitting it was, that as I was standing in hell, I learned what it truly means for blood to boil. An intense, burning hatred began to course through my veins. Someone would pay for this. I turned my attention to the man whose soul was damned beyond comprehension. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?" Hell hath no fury like Evie!

In an instant, a blazing fireball ripped around the room, encircling our small group. Hot and fierce, the tall flames cracked like lashing whips against the walls. No one was going anywhere, including Satan.

"What have you done to him?" I growled, as angrily as a feral cat squaring off with a rival.

A grin replaced the surprised look Satan had momentarily worn. "You are a devil of a girl, aren't you?" He laughed delightedly.

I laid my dad's head down gently before I squeezed the trembling hand he had shakily held out to me. I could see the fear in his eyes. Not for himself, but for me. His eyes, blue as a turbulent ocean, a reflection of my own, looked back at me.

It's my turn to protect you! I whispered mentally.

His eyes widened. He'd heard me! I guess Antonio wasn't the only two-way radio around here. Antonio! "Where's Antonio?" I demanded.

"Your Guardian . . .?" Satan chuckled. "He's . . . detained. I thought he might like to spend some time with some old acquaintances of his."

Monster! I stood tall and confident in front of the demon. The flames continued to dance around us at lightning speed. "What have you done to my father?"

"I did nothing my dear. He did it to himself."

I stared at him in disbelief. "The hell he did!" There is no way my dad did that to himself. Was he kidding me?

"Perhaps we could speak without thee . . . ambiance?" He raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes surveying the flames.

"And perhaps I could send these flames straight up your—"

"Ah, ah, ah," Satan warned playfully, although his expression showed no sign of play.

I released control of the flames, sending them shooting straight up the pit we'd just fallen through.

"Careful, Child of Light," a small voice whispered. I suddenly became aware of Havoc and Chaos again. They'd taken a spot on the floor beside my father. Havoc stared up at me with large round eyes. She truly looked scared. "I don't think you know who you're dealing with."

"My father wouldn't have done this to himself," I barked, turning my attention back to the demon before me. I knew exactly whom I was dealing with. I was in the center of Hell and Satan had some explaining to do.

"I assure you, he did. I offered him the same choice I'm about to offer you."

"Which is?" Son of a—! The obscenities wanted to fly now. Well, in my head, anyway. I wasn't sure I totally wanted to insult him aloud. Yet!

As if he were asking if I'd rather have cake or ice cream for dessert, he presented my options: "Open the gates of Hell willingly or suffer an agonizing death."

"Gee, which one should I choose?"

"Your father chose to suffer an agonizing death; foolish of him." Satan smiled wickedly before taking a seat of his own. It was more like a freaking throne, all decked out with gold and jewels. I could picture Havoc secretly drooling over it. "I do not see why you need to suffer that fate. May I offer you a chair? You look weary from your journey." A similar chair appeared beside me. I turned away from it.

"So if I don't open the gates of Hell willingly, I'll end up just like my dad?" My heart tightened at the image of my father lying broken on the floor.

He nodded.

I thought a little more about the situation at hand. "But if I resist too there will be no one to open the gates as you need, right?"

His eyes narrowed on me, his posture tensing ever so slightly. Bingo! The way I saw it . . . I held all the cards here.

"Be careful, Child of Light," Chaos warned. "The Lord of the Underworld is cunning!"

Yeah? So am I! "A trade then?" My lips curled into a sly smile, like a cat about to pounce. He was so going down. Well, further down that is.

"Evie . . .?" I'd forgotten Roland was here, his shaky voice squeaked from behind me. I didn't look at him.

"A trade . . ." Satan grinned.

"Evie!" said Roland with disbelief: "You can't make a deal with . . . with him!" The disgust in his voice was clear.

"I will hear your conditions." Satan leaned back, patiently waiting.

I ignored the weight of Roland's stare. I couldn't think about him now. My dad had to be my first priority. I'd deal with the consequences of everything else later. I held my chin up high. "First. You must let my dad and my friends go unharmed. And I want my dad restored to the way he was." This was a non-negotiable condition.

"In exchange for your willingness, I will let your father, and your friends go; unharmed. But I cannot restore your father's life. It was his choice to forfeit it, and it is unfortunately . . . out of my hands." He didn't look like it was as "unfortunate" as he'd like me to think.

I stepped closer. "You mean there is no one who could help him?"

"I did not say that. I simply said that it was out of my hands. Perhaps the Oracle might—?"

"What Oracle?" I demanded, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Enough! The next condition." He waved me off.

He freaking waved me off? Oh no no no. I put my hands on my hips giving him a look that was sure to make him quiver. A power I reserved for extreme occasions. "I will not be waved off. Ever! You want something from me then you better find a way to save my dad or the deals off!"

He leaned toward me, his eyes no longer friendly. "Watch. Your. Tone."

I couldn't back down. If I did, he'd have me under his thumb forever. "Whatever." I rolled my eyes, waving him off and I swear I saw him grin.

"Anyway, condition number two: I'm not a doorman, so don't expect me to stand there and like, hold some rusty gate open for every creep that wants to run free."

He leapt off his throne and in an instant appeared directly before me.

I jumped. I wasn't completely sure I hadn't peed my pants. I hated how these demons could pop here and there whenever they wanted. It was totally unfair!

Satan towered over me. His height seeming to grow all the while he glowered down upon me. "You seem to be under the impression I need your cooperation," He growled.

"Don't you?"

"No. I could use you and take your powers as my own. You would be able to do nothing!"

"And when I die you'll be able to do nothing," I announced matter-of-factly. He had had my father for a little more than a week, and already George Hollyander looked on the brink of death.

"That's what you did to my father, didn't you? You tried to force him, and it drained his life away. You need me willingly!" As soon as I'd uttered the words, I knew them to be true. High five for Evie and her problem-solving skills! "You'll only ever be able to crack that gate of yours open," I mocked.

A fire of his own whirled around us, only us. The heat was so intense, I found myself leaping at him to escape the flames that exploded behind me, threatening to singe my back. My hands landed on his firm chest. Holy crap! Did this guy eat Hercules or something?

A strange look over took him all of a sudden. I will have her! His voice echoed in my mind, deep and husky.

I jumped back into a light snowfall—another spell courtesy of my quick thinking!

"How did you . . .?" He breathed, still too close to me for my liking. His eyes, black and beautiful, regarded me with longing.

Hell no! There was no way I thought he was good-looking. No way! And why didn't anyone bother to tell me that Satan was a hunk-o-burning love? Another bit of need-to-know information I should have had. Havoc had totally dropped the ball on this one.

His eyes were studying me. "I will let your father and friends go . . . and I will tell you where to find the Oracle . . ."

Great, I thought. Progress at last!

"You will return to me at midnight of every new day and release a demon of my choosing."

I thought about that. "Fine!" And then I'll slay said demon before they can do any real damage. Two points for Evie! Who said evil couldn't be thwarted?

"And . . ." he sneered. "You will be with no other. You. Are. Mine!"

HOLD THE FRICKIN' PHONE! "What?"

"You belong to me and no other man." A proclamation! He stepped back, taking his seat once more.

I stood there like a fish, opening and closing my mouth. There were no words.

"Agreed?"

"NO!" I finally shrieked. "Ew! You're like . . . ancient or something. There is no way I'm hooking up with you. I'm sixteen for God's sake!" Again, the intense dagger-sharp pain shot through me.

"Do not mention that name here." His words were dark and absolute.

I swallowed loudly. I was deliberating my next course of action. "Look. I have a rule about dating guys that weren't even born in the same century as me." I cringed at the thought.

"Do I appear to be an old man to you?"

I thought about that. No, he looked like a twenty-five year old male model. "Why would you want me?" The question fell out on its own accord. "Other than opening the gate for you, I mean."

He appeared in front of me again, the back of his hand, gently caressing my cheek. I flinched from his touch. "You're pure."

"I'm pure?" He made the word sound icky. "So are a million other girls." Note to self: May want to rethink the "pure" thing; it may not be as beneficial as I thought.

"There is only one like you. Your hair . . ." he reached out and touched a loose curl that had slipped from my ponytail, " . . . it is as red as the flames of Hell."

Okay, there was no reason to be nasty! Making fun of my hair—a low blow—even for him! Although, I think it was actually . . . a compliment?

"Your eyes . . ." he continued. I shivered at the sudden closeness between us as his hands cupped my face, " . . . are as blue as the deepest ocean." His touch was so warm and soft, I felt myself leaning into it. Against my wishes, my heart skipped a beat. Shake it off Evie . . . he's a damn demon! I chastened myself.

"You are fire and light, wrapped into one," he continued, not bothering to notice my inner conflict. "You will free me." There was unmistakable desire in his eyes.

"Your powers and mine . . ."

I recoiled, severing all contact. "I'm sixteen. A child compared to you!"

"I'll keep that in mind." A hungry look hung in his eyes as he stepped toward me. "I can be a generous man. You will have everything your heart desires. You will want for nothing . . . If you will only agree to let me love you."

"But!" There were a million bazillion "buts" and "I'm sixteen!" was the only excuse I could think to utter.

He clasped his hands together. "A compromise! A good faith example of my generosity: I will give you until your eighteenth birthday. On the twelfth hour you will return to me. Once I have you as my own, our bond will be unbreakable.

# Chapter 22

Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God! I fought the pain that stabbed through me for speaking of the divine being. This was so not good. There had to be away out of this.

"But, what if I, you know, want to be with someone else?" The question came out as almost a whisper. I could feel red coating my cheeks. Imagine. Me, and the Lord of the Underworld talking about—I couldn't even think it. This was beyond awkward.

"You will not be capable of making love to another until you are eighteen. My gift to your father," he laughed lightly. "A sort of invisible chastity belt if you will."

I swallowed air.

"How many fathers can say they don't have to worry about their daughter's virtue?"

Horrified that he mentioned me and the word "virtue" in the same sentence in front of my dad, I turned back to look at my father to find he had vanished.

"Where is he? Where are the others?" I panicked. I hadn't realized we were alone.

"They're fine. I thought our conversation should be . . . private." He actually had the nerve to wink at me.

"You will not control my body. I can be with whom-ever I want, when I want. It's not the . . . you know . . . whatever century you were born in. Women have rights now. We're independent thinkers. We even vote!" I announced triumphantly. Why the hell was I talking about woman's lib with Satan?

"A downfall of men, to be sure," he mocked.

I gasped. "How dare—"

"You will agree to my conditions or your father and friends die, now!"

So much for bargaining . . . I folded my arms across my chest in a huff.

"I am growing impatient with you, Child of Light."

I stomped my foot. "Fine! You free my dad, and my friends. You tell me where to find the Oracle . . ." I grimaced, " . . . and I'll agree to open your damned gates at midnight." This was going to put a serious crimp in my sleep time. Not to mention any chance I had getting into Heaven.

"And . . .?" He prompted; a self-satisfying look plastered to his face. Bastard!

"And," I snarled. "I'll return to you on my eighteenth birthday. But you better not look all old and troll-like or the deal's off." I sure as hell hope my dad and friends appreciate what I do for them. Honestly. The thought of spending eternity in Hell . . . saddled to some old demon, made my skin crawl. I had an instant headache just thinking about it.

"We're agreed?"

I wanted to slap that grin off his face. The jerk knew it too. He smiled brightly.

"Almost," I took a deep breath. I hated to admit any weakness but it was now or never. "I want to be able to live in the outer world. I can't . . . stay here all the time. It's scary . . . and dirty . . . and people are always screaming." The list went on and on.

"Of course, you already have the power to travel between your world and mine."

"I do?"

"The moment you began accepting my help, you became tied to this world. You may visit whenever you wish."

I smiled. Or like never! Hello loophole!

"Or when I summon you."

Goodbye loophole! Wait. Maybe not goodbye loophole after all: I promised to return at midnight . . . I was born at 11:05pm. That meant I had nearly an hour from the time I turned eighteen to . . . make other arrangements. HELLO AGAIN, LOOPHOLE! Thank you God! I smiled through the sharp pains that struck me. "Agreed!"

A sonic boom resounded as a blast of power shot through me. The very words of our bargain seemed to brand themselves to my soul, sealing my fate and intertwining it with his. What had I done?

* * *

My surroundings had changed abruptly. I looked around. I was standing outside the gates to Pinehurst. Antonio and Roland were helping my father to stand.

"Child of Light?" I looked down. Havoc and Chaos stood beside me looking up; their eyes, wide with alarm. "What have you done?" Havoc asked.

"What was necessary," I answered, keeping my voice low. I couldn't afford to think about it now. For now, the only thing that mattered was my dad.

I looked back at Antonio. His shirt was torn. Patches of blood soaked through the fabric. He looked to me. His eyes were full of questions that I didn't want to answer, questions that I wouldn't answer—not now anyway. I looked at my watch. I still had seven hours and thirty-five minutes before I had to return to Hell. I slumped.

"Evie?" My father's voice was weak.

"I'm here, Daddy. Everything's alright now." I went to him and wrapped an arm around his waist for support. He was so frail. There was no way anyone would believe he was my father.

"We need to phone Miles," I spoke to Antonio. The sooner Miles came for my dad the better. I could only imagine how Ms. Leech would react to seeing the famous George Hollyander reduced to a pile of bones.

Speak of the devil! Well, not quite, but a definite contender. Ms. Leech appeared suddenly just on the other side of the iron bars, her black eyes, dark and unforgiving surveyed us with distaste. She was flanked by two goons. Their tall and menacing forms would have scared me before, but not now. After traveling the Underworld and facing-off with Satan, I couldn't imagine anything else scaring me. "I was informed there were a few students "lurking" outside my school."

"We weren't lurking," Roland exclaimed. "We've just been to Hell!"

"Really, Mr. Vandenberg, Hell?" She pursed her lips. "You'll have to come up with a better excuse than that. Your parents are as livid as I am at your attendance this week! I'm sure they will be just as eager to learn where you've been. As for you Miss Hollyander—"

"He's telling you the truth. Antonio and I rescued him!"

Ms. Leech had rounded on me, her fury unmistakable. "And just who is this?" Her tight expression fixed on my dad.

"This is Evelyn's Grandfather," Antonio interjected quickly. "He's been missing over a week now. May we use your phone? Her father will be happy to know he's been found."

Ms. Leech eyed my "Grandfather" up and down before nodding to Antonio. "You may use the phone in the office. And get him some water. He looks as if he's about to pass out!"

"Thank you." Antonio had already begun moving us that way, taking the brunt of my dad's weight. Sadly it wasn't much.

"I expect to see you in my office the moment you finish that call, Miss Hollyander."

"Yes, Ms. Leech."

As if she didn't trust us to actually go to the office, her "dogs" practically hauled us in by the scruff of our necks—we received better treatment in Hell!

I phoned Miles and made arrangements with him to come pick up my father, AKA Grandpa. Fortunately he was already on his way, having planned to extract me from school and leave me with my mother for "safe keeping" while he went looking for my dad.

Antonio met Miles in the parking lot with my father a half an hour later. Saying good-bye to my dad had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. Lucky for me Ms. Leech didn't allow long farewells. She had promptly ushered me in her office where I sat now, awaiting the lecture of a lifetime.

"Miss Hollyander. Did I not expressly tell you that I would not tolerate any ill behavior from you while attending this school?"

I sat in my "assigned chair" in the center of Ms. Leech's office. I stared at her. She was in fact Ms. Leech, minus the demon. I smiled. I was actually glad to see the old bat.

"I hardly think this is a smiling matter, Miss Hollyander; really. Enabling your elderly grandfather, trying to sneak him onto campus when your family has been clearly looking for him?" She gasped at the very idea. "Thank heavens your father's assistant arrived so promptly to take him home."

I had been able to brief Miles briefly on my father's condition. He agreed to keep him safe, and hidden from the outside world until I was able to find out how we might reverse the damage he'd suffered at the hands of Satan.

Antonio had come up with the "escaped elderly grandfather" story in a pinch. It was brilliant really. According to him, it was imperative word of George's condition never got out. Miles was more than in agreement.

"As for your involvement with Mr. Vasques . . ." Somehow, Antonio and Roland had evaded Ms Leech's version of the Spanish Inquisition. Roland had at last collapsed, and had been rushed to the infirmary for a complete physical and a phone call to mommy; and Antonio was simply excused. Apparently being nineteen had benefits. Being a Guardian and an instructor at the school, he didn't need to answer to anyone. Although I'm sure he got a tongue lashing from Ms. Leech about letting a student accompany him on such a dangerous mission.

" . . . Heading into the Underworld to rescue Mr. Vandenberg was extremely foolish, and completely against the rules," Ms. Leech rambled on. "We do not encourage vigilantes Miss. Hollyander. I still have no idea how you managed it." By her expression, she really didn't want to know.

"I'm sorry Ms. Leech."

She looked shocked at my sober apology. "Yes, well. If it weren't for the considerable contribution your family makes, and the gratitude the Vandenbergs have expressed, I might be forced to take matters in a different direction. As it is . . ."

"As it is," I was off the hook! She rambled on and on until the grumbling of my stomach alerted her it was dinnertime. She released me with a " . . . and don't let me see you in here again for disciplinary actions."

I ran off, and I mean ran! I hadn't had a real meal in two days and I was starved! So why in the world did Stacy need to talk now?

"Evie!" Stacy jumped out from behind a tree along the way to the Kitchen.

"Stacy!" My heart skidded to a halt. And I was the one who got in trouble for "lurking." Sheesh!

She smirked. "I'm glad you're back. We were so worried when we heard you'd disappeared." The hell she was. I could hear the false concern in her voice.

"I just came from seeing Roland. He told a bunch of us all about the little adventure you went on. Fighting pixies? Confronting the Lord of the Underworld himself?"

Oh God. How much did she know?

"You don't fool me. It's obvious that along the way he hit his head, and you've decided to glamorize his rescue. Please, save it!" She put her hand up, silencing my attempt to deflect her accusations: "As if I'd believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

I huffed. "That's uncalled for, don't you think?"

She stepped closer. "I will find out the truth about what happened, and when I do, the whole school will know your dirty little secret." My "dirty little secret?" She glowered at me with raw hatred; I almost felt bad about making the tree she was standing under drop one of its branches on her head–almost! Stacy screamed out in pain a moment later, holding onto her head.

I grinned. "You work on that 'dirty little secret.'"

I left Stacy crying. Actually, I think she was in the process of untangling herself from the branch so she could run off to tell on me, but she was definitely crying. Life can be sweet at times . . .

I found Iris and the girls sitting at a table with their heads together.

"You mind if I join you?"

"Evie!" They screamed in unison.

Iris leapt up and threw her arms around me. "You're alright!" She exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm fine." I couldn't believe how happy I was to be back. I hugged her tightly.

"Thank you for bringing you-know-who back," she added under her breath.

"You know who?" Oh, Havoc.

"She's fine by the way." Iris had read my expression. "But her friend is a little . . . accident prone!"

I laughed. Chaos would be an interesting addition to our clan. Maybe he could spend some time with Stacy—an idea to explore at a later date.

The Kitchen was buzzing about our adventures. Everyone somehow was under the delusion that Roland himself was actually fighting off the pixies when Antonio and I arrived to save him. Interesting . . .

"Evelyn." A thick accent spoke from behind me. I spun around. "Do you have a moment?"

For Antonio? Forever! I hadn't had a chance to talk to him privately since we'd returned. I was anxious to make sure he was all right.

The girls all winked at me as I got up from the table.

"I'll see you later." I winked back at them.

Antonio and I walked out into the yard, neither one of us speaking until we reached a bench somewhere in the common area. I couldn't say where, I was too busy trying to read Antonio's face. He'd changed his clothing since I'd last seen him. He now wore a clean blue shirt, and jeans that looked fashionably worn out. I wished I'd had a chance to change—I could only imagine how gross I looked.

"You struck a deal." His words came out sharp and absolute.

"Yes." Why lie? He could read my thoughts anyway.

No! God no! He screamed silently as he ran his fingers back through his hair.

"I had to. It was the only way Satan would let you all go." I held my chin up. There was no way I'd let Antonio make me feel guilty. He would have done the same if the roll were reversed.

"What did you promise him? And do not hold anything back." His dark eyes held mine.

How much did I want Antonio to know? What would he think of me if he knew the truth—the whole truth?

If you do not tell me, I will sift through your mind and claim the knowledge for myself.

The hell you will. There was no way anyone was taking any more from me than I'd already given. Evie was all used up . . . for now anyway.

"I'll tell you," I blurted out. "Not because you threatened me, but because I'd already planned to." I took a deep breath. "In exchange for your safety and the knowledge to help restore my father's health . . . I agreed to return to Hell every night at midnight to release a demon through the gates."

Antonio's mouth sprung open. He hadn't seen that coming. "Evie! How could you promise such a thing?" He looked . . . what? Angry? Ashamed? Of me? Unacceptable!

"He would have killed you all on the spot and used me anyway," I announced angrily. "With my cooperation I won't age and die like my father in a matter-of-days; I'll be able to save my dad's life!"

Antonio looked sick.

"I didn't have a choice!" I yelled. "I'd do it again if it meant saving you. All of you," I added quickly. Realizing I'd emphasized him above the others.

He took my face in his hands, his eyes watering as they looked into mine. "You've condemned your life to him. Do you understand that? For them . . . for me." I could hear the heartache in his voice.

"For them, for you," I breathed. Always for you . . . My hand reached up and touched his cheek, cupping it gently. "You went into the Underworld for me . . . I couldn't leave you there."

Antonio stared at me for what seemed like hours. The sadness in his eyes and the heartache in his thoughts were suddenly replaced with an emotion I didn't recognize. Without care to any passersby, his arms drew me up, and his lips took mine, warming what was left of my soul. The night air I'm sure was cold, but I felt warm in his arms. I was always warm in his arms.

I suddenly felt as though something were pulling at me, tugging at my soul. I looked at my watch. "Midnight," I breathed, my eyes meeting his.

Panic swept across Antonio's face. "No! I won't let you go!" He grabbed onto my body . . . as if that would stop the pull. "Evie, please!" His lips touched mine as I disappeared . . .

Damn Satan had bad timing!

###

# List of spells

Aperto: open

Acqua: water

Aeras: air

Anemos: wind

Chioni: snow

Elafry: light

Floga: flame

Fotio: freeze

Imobla: immobilize

Inabilitara: to incapacitate

Megalonoun: grow

Pagoma: petrify

Pagos: ice

Petra: stone

# A Glimpse into Pinehurst book 2

### The Search for the Oracle

### Chapter 1

"Evie . . . back so soon?"

Like I had a freaking choice! I could hear the smugness in his voice. I had my hands on my hips surveying the area. "I like what you've done with the place," I commented dryly. Truth. I did like what he'd done with the place. The thought of having to spend another minute in Hell, having to endure the heat, fire, and stone formations that gave the illusion they were closing in around me, was depressing to say the least.

But this wasn't like that. I was in a spectacular garden. Lush looking foliage grew all around me. Up in the sky . . . sky? The moon hung full and bright. It's light casting down upon us, illuminating the ground and flowers. My mouth popped open. The flowers . . . they glowed like fiber optic art: reds, blues, oranges and greens. Fireflies fluttered overhead. The garden flourished with life and color.

"I've pleased you. Wonderful!" the Prince of Evil remarked cheerfully.

Whatever! "Let's get this over with," I rolled my eyes, looking as put out as possible. I wasn't in the mood to play games. I'd literally been yanked from Antonio's arms and I was anxious to get back. I glanced around. No gate.

"May I offer you something to eat?" My eyes followed to where he was gesturing. A magnificent tree stood in the corner, brimming with apples. I bit my lip. I was starved. I hadn't had a chance to eat anything since I'd been back from my earlier trip to Hell. My trip to Hell . . . now that's something I never thought I'd say. Antonio had called me away from the table before I'd gotten my food, to discuss the "bargain" I'd struck with Satan.

Antonio . . . my hunky slayer boyfriend, at least that's how I saw him, had finally admitted he loved me. It took a trip to Hell to do it, but hey, I wasn't complaining. Antonio had looked heartbroken as I slipped through his grasp and disappeared into this realm.

"Do not eat the fruit."

My eyes darted around me. Who said that? It wasn't the first time I'd heard voices in my head here. Last time it had been Satan tricking me. Pretending to help me with spells I'd never used before in order to lure me to him. This was not the same voice.

"Perhaps a pear?" And just like that, the apple tree transformed into a pear tree.

I stood, almost too stunned to speak. "No thank you." I didn't know why I bothered with the pleasantries. He was Satan for crap sake. However, if stories were true, and I didn't doubt that they were, it would be in my best interest to not piss him off. I smiled flatly.

"Look Satan. Let's get down to it." I put forth my best haughty attitude. I don't wanna be here any longer than—"

"Satan?" he interrupted me. A confused look hung across his face.

I stared at him blankly. I looked around me once again. I was in Hell, I think? A tall, dark haired guy in his early twenties stood before me. He was super tan—my guess, the heat had singed his skin, and muscled like the eye candy in my beach volleyball magazines. He was hot. Way hot. I'd already scolded myself for even thinking he was attractive. I knew he was evil incarnate. I was so never getting into Heaven.

"You insult me," he said. His tone indicating that I indeed did insult him. "As if I could be that evil; I'm not Satan."

I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing! I continued to stare. My mind tried to wrap around his words. "Wh . . . what?" If he wasn't Satan, then . . . who the hell was he?

"I see," he said knowingly. "You assumed that because I greeted you in Hell, that I am—" He started to laugh.

"Aren't you?" I challenged. I felt a surge of anger run through me. If he wasn't Satan, then whom had I struck a deal with? Oh God. Who had I struck a deal with?

I doubled over in pain. Damn. I'd forgotten about that. Praying for divine intervention here, in the heart of darkness, was costly.

"I told you . . . never utter that name here." His tone was sharp and severe.

"I didn't!" I growled through the pain. "I just . . . thought it."

His eyes narrowed. "You wonder now, with whom you struck a bargain?"

Duh! What the hell else would I be wondering. Idiot!

He grinned.

"Well? Who else would you be?" I snapped. "You had my dad!" How dare he look at me like I was a fool! I knew I was, now. But he didn't have to openly agree with me.

"It doesn't really matter, does it? You would have made the same bargain regardless. The stakes were too high." He shrugged it off like it was no big deal. "I forgive your ignorance."

He forgives my—"Who. Are. You?" I curled my fists, ready to give him a whooping of a lifetime. He smiled—mistake! I was on him instantly taking us both by surprise. No one screwed with me! I'd been through too much. I threw my body into his, knocking him down. If he wasn't Satan, I had nothing to worry about. He was fair game! Just another demon who needed to be taught a lesson—a painful one.

Antonio would have been proud. All the endless hours of training I'd received during my Slayer classes had paid off. I brought my fist up into his jaw. A killer upper cut that I would pay for—immediately!

"Ahahh!" I cried out. I rolled onto the ground holding my hand against my chest.

"Foolish girl," he murmured under his breath as he rose from the ground. "Let me see it." He was completely unaffected by the damage I tried to inflict.

"No! Don't touch me!" I yelled through the tears.

"You attacked me," He pointed out coolly.

I stumbled to my feet. I was seeing spots! I'd broken my hand, I was sure of it. I swear it was swelling up before my eyes. "Where do you get off having a face made of stone anyway," I cried, cradling my hand still. My vision blurred and I stumbled to the side.

"It's not," he said dryly, taking my hand in his—I hadn't even seen him reach for it. "You just didn't strike me properly."

"I know how to punch someone!" I spat. "I've punched plenty of guys before." It was true.

"I'm sure." He put his hands around mine, cupping it. I started to pull away. "Stop!" He commanded forcibly. His eyes were dark and intense, staring into mine, challenging me to disobey.

I swallowed loudly, afraid to move.

He held my hand gently between his. A surge of heat moved through my skin, warming the muscle and bone. "It will be sore," he said as he released my hand. "But the bones are healed." He stepped back, his face paling a little. His eyes, still watched me intently.

I looked at my hand, tilting it back and forth. It still held the heat he'd given me. I closed my fist slowly. It wasn't a tight fist, but the bones weren't broken any longer. The pain had subsided somewhat, and the impulse to pass out was gone.

"Who are you?" I breathed.

He studied me for a moment, pondering. Perhaps debating a lie. "I am the Lord of the Underworld," he declared, his arms out, motioning around him. "The King!"

"The what?" The Underworld had a king? Unbelievable. Another bit of need-to- know information I'd been denied. Havoc was so going to get her little pixie butt kicked when I got back. If I got back. "The King of the Underworld?"

He nodded at me.

"I don't see what the difference is: Satan? Prince of Evil... Lord of the Underworld. King of the Underworld... it's all the same!"

"It most certainly is not the same," he promised darkly. "I am not Satan. If I were, you would not have been allowed to leave with your father and friends. You would not have been given a generous offer in order to save them."

"Generous?" Now that was debatable.

"Can you not think who I am?" His eyes looked long into mine, as if he was passing the knowledge to me telepathically—a skill he did not know I already possessed. "Is there no one that you've heard of, that precedes Satan? I am the Lord of the Underworld!" he repeated with a hint of malice in his voice. The very air around us shuddered at his words.

Someone who precedes Satan? What was he talking about? No one preceded Satan. He was the head guy down here . . . or so I thought. Who would be older than—? My breath caught. "Wait . . . you don't mean . . . Hades?" This guy had to be crazy. The very idea was crazy. I couldn't believe I'd even suggested it. Hades was pure myth. Like witches, and creatures from Hell, and pixies. Crap! My expression fell.

"You've heard of me!" He smiled.

Now, my Greek Mythology wasn't up to par, but what I did know was that Hades didn't just rule the Underworld he was the Underworld. Double crap! If this man was Hades, then I had an even bigger problem. Hades wasn't entirely bound to this world. He could leave whenever he wanted. He could spy on me whenever he wanted. But if he was Hades, where was Satan? Never mind! Never mind. I had no desire to tread there. I suddenly felt sick. "You're Hades?"

He strode over to a garden bench and sat. "None other." He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head, the picture of cool . . . or should I say hot. Bad Evie!

"As in Zeus's brother Hades?"

"Pomegranate?" he offered. One suddenly materialized in his hand.

A story came to mind, reminding me that Hades had once given Persephone a pomegranate that she'd eaten and thereby bound her to the Underworld forever. "No fruit!" I jumped back, putting as much distance between us as possible.

He smiled knowingly.

A million things crossed my mind at once. The first and most obvious being—"You're married!"

I swear he looked sheepish. "Would that be a problem?"

My mouth popped open again. "Yes that would be a problem!" I gasped. This was unbelievable. I looked around me, half expecting a jealous woman to pounce on me at any moment. And not just any old jealous woman, a Goddess!

"I'm not going to . . . you know . . . with a married man!" I could feel the hot heat of blush against my cheeks. I couldn't even say it. How in the heck would I ever be able to do it? My shoulders slumped.

"She's not here you know," he said, answering my unspoken thought. "Persephone; she is no longer my wife."

I sighed with relief. "You mean, you got divorced or something?"

"Or something," he answered with a wry look.

I waited. That appeared to be all the information I'd be getting on that subject.

"So . . . you're not married?" Not that I was interested in him. We simply needed to be clear on that point—very clear.

"Evie. You seem flustered." He was enjoying this too much. "Fear not my dear. You are the only object of my attraction and I—"

"I never said you were the object of my attraction," I blurted out before he could finish his cocky assumption. Another point we had to be clear on—very clear. Although, hindsight, I probably should have kept my mouth shut.

He stood. All amusement had disappeared from his face. "Our contract is binding," he snarled.

I shivered at the thought. He was right of course. This "bargain" was worse than I could have imagined. I needed time to regroup—this would not be that time.

Dark shadow's appeared around me, threatening to swallow me whole. "Do not think to cross me." His voice deepened. "I own the Underworld and all who dwell here; you are part of this world now!" So much for being the caring guy that fixed my hand! "You have promised yourself to me. Do not forget that," he snapped.

How could I? But I didn't remember promising myself exclusively to him. But that wasn't exactly information I needed to point out.

"The gate." He motioned to the left. His eyes, still fixed on me. The garden façade had vanished. Now, hot molten rock appeared before me. Loud screams poured through the crack in its wall.

I jumped back, using Hades as a shield. Damn! I had to act tougher, especially if I was going to be dealing with unsavory demons from Hell. I peeked out from behind him and ducked back. Nope. With eyes closed tight, I pressed my forehead against his back, willing myself somewhere else. There was no way I was going near that thing. Who knew what was going to jump out of that fissure and rip me apart. I'd take my chances with Hades. And why couldn't he wear a shirt? Holy Hell was this guy built! His back was as muscled as his front. Talk about temptation!

"Fearless I see." He was mocking me for still hiding behind him. I didn't care. "We had a bargain," he insisted.

I gripped his arms and peered out from behind him again. "Had." I emphasized, ducking back once more. I was such a coward.

"Are you going back on your word?" He growled over his shoulder. I could see a muscle ticking under his eye.

I thought about that. I wanted to say yes, but then I pictured my dad the last time I'd seen him, small and frail, and Antonio, beaten and bleeding. Havoc and Chaos, my pixie pain in-the-butt friends; they'd been scared too. Not to mention Roland, who was still under the assumption he was my boyfriend. He'd been tied to a spit and roasted over a low flame for days. Poor, Roland. What was I going to do about him? At the moment, that was the least of my problems.

"The Oracle first," I demanded. When I was last here, Satan, I mean, Hades, had promised that in exchange for my sacrifice, to put it mildly, he'd give me the location to the Oracle: A powerful being that possessed the knowledge to save my father and restore his health to what it once was. "And don't you dare tell me Medusa!" Please don't say Medusa.

His eyes narrowed. "Megara." Ok, not Medusa, but not exactly the detailed map I'd expected. Still, it was a start.

I met his stare, giving him a distressed look.

"They will not harm you," he assured, almost sounding sympathetic. Yeah right; like I trusted him.

Okay, let's assess the situation here. I was stuck in the Underworld, hiding behind Hades, and stalling so I wouldn't have to open the gates of Hell where I might get eaten by some . . . God only knows what—I winced in pain.

"I told you, never utter that name here," he growled, turning to face me.

"I know!" I couldn't freaking help it. I needed divine intervention. I glanced toward the mock sky.

Hades would kill my father and friends in a heartbeat if I backed down. Not to mention what he'd do to me. He may not be Satan, but he was darn close; if not worse as I said before, evil incarnate. If there was any credence to the legends about him, and I believed there was, I was sure of that fact. He controlled the Underworld. He was the Underworld. And the Greek God was not forgiving. Talk about an unexpected turn of events!

I growled mentally. I stepped around him and walked slowly up toward the rock. The screaming intensified as I neared. "God help me," I prayed, fighting back the pain that shot through me once again. I'd take it without complaint now. This would be my penance for what I was about to do.

I reached out, hands shaking. I could feel the pressure building in them as before, when I'd cast those spells to fight off the creatures of Hell while trying to rescue my father. My hands began to glow with a luminous light once more. I looked back. Hades was stepping forward with eager anticipation.

"You sure they won't hurt me?" I questioned. Stupid of me I knew. Why would he care if I were suddenly overrun by demons?

"You will not be harmed. I swear it." The sky thundered above, cementing his promise.

And with the comfort of that knowledge, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I pressed my hands against the rock. A sonic boom vibrated through my body, propelling me backward. My head hit against something hard. My vision blurred and then everything went black . . .

###

# BIOGRAPHY

Nicole Grane lives in Tooele, Utah with her husband and three children. She enjoys collecting cool rocks, oil painting, finding unique pieces of jewelry, and playing on the beach with her family. As a native Californian, the ocean is a cherished part of every visit back home.

Nicole has always loved mythology, folklore, and researching unique places. The Pinehurst series has allowed her to study and explore theories and sites she never would have known about. To incorporate her findings into these books and share them with readers has been an amazing experience that she wishes to continue.

