Hours later, my door swings open and Ray walks in, smiling grimly. “Good morning…” he surveys my cross-legged form, “or not. Did you have a bad dream or something?”
“I just couldn’t sleep last night,” I slide out of the bed, looking into the mirror. I pull my incredibly long ruby red hair into a ponytail, and turn to face him. “I just found out who was stealing my socks every day,” I say dryly.
He laughs, a genuine grin dancing across his features. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you about that.”
“Well, anyways…” I stare at him, “what do you want?”
“For you to get ready,” he says, “we will leave in a couple of hours.” He holds out a small drawstring bag, printed with the word Moonlight.
“Where are we going?” I inquire wonderingly. I stare into the small pouch, wishing for it to be one of those magical ones that fit a whole closet into a tiny space. When I was officially an orphan, everything I owned could fit into that one bag. Now I have so much… stuff I can call my own. Stuff I don’t want to lose for fear of having nothing again.
“Okay,” I stare at it resignedly, and then back up at Ray. “How long will this last?”
His face turns stone still, resolute. “We will probably, if we avoid capture at all, be in hiding for a very long time.”
It is then that I realize just how serious our situation is.
“I’ll get ready,” I take a step back and sit back down on the plump mattress, dazed. Ray seems to sense my hidden dismissal and slips outside into the hallway.
I lay the pouch beside me and stare around the room, looking at my various possessions. What should I bring and what should I leave behind?
After a second of pondering, I grab my emerald ring from the bedside table. It isn’t needed to keep me safe because I have really bright green eyes now, but the fact that… he gave it to me makes it truly worth a spot in my bag. I would wear it, but it seems to symbolize the good times we have together, and those are the times I don’t want to remember right now.
“Mistress,” a small, gentle voice whispers from the hallway. My head shoots up as I see an unfamiliar phoenae peering into my room. Her ebony hair is long and wavy, surrounding a heart shaped face. With big, brown eyes and ruby red lips, she seems to be very young.
“Who are you?” I ask sharply.
“Danae, Mistress,” she replies respectfully, “may I come in?” I stare at her beautiful features with suspicion. She looks nothing like the grandmother I saw last night.
“I… look different in the mornings because I am a phoenae,” she cautiously continues when she notices my confusion. I suddenly realize that this was what Jake was talking about when he said phoenaes go through the aging process very quickly. It is hard to believe that this short, yet amazingly slender woman will morph into an old, wrinkled one by night’s end.
“Come in,” I wave my hand slowly, and she comes by my side. She looks at the bag, and a frown appears on her face.
“Are you leaving?” she asks softly. I shake my head.
“No, we are just going to play a little hide and seek,” I sigh, casting her a glance to see if she bought it. Danae dubiously returns the look.
“Let me help you pack,” she takes the pouch and holds it tight in her little fingers. The phoenae slips to the closet, viewing it appraisingly.
“What makes you think you can help me pack?” I say in a rather brusque manner. She ignores me, looking through my clothes. After about ten seconds, Danae pulls out a shirt and a pair of jeans, along with a moderately thick jacket. I gasp when I realize that those three articles of clothing were my favorites out of them all.
“Wear this,” she hands me the jacket, “in case you get cold.”
“How did you know?” I ask wonderingly, fingering the soft fabric. She smiles, the same glitteringly white teeth shining at me.
“The person that does the laundry knows a lot about the person she is cleaning for,” she says, then lifts her arms. “Can you lift me onto the bed?” she embarrassedly asks. I laughingly comply, lifting her small form and putting her on the mattress.
Danae comes to stand behind me, and places her tiny fingers in my hair. “What are you doing?” I stiffen at the touch.
“Relax,” she smiles again, “and close your eyes.” I oblige her once more, focusing on her finger light touch as it skims through my hair.
Silence reigns for a while, and then she speaks again. “Mistress, may I request something?”
“Yes,” I softly reply, thinking how nice it is to actually have a civil conversation with a girl. I can’t even remember the last time that has even happened.
“You said you didn’t need a servant…” she twirls a strand of my hair in her fingers, working her magic, “but I can be something else.”
“And what is that?”
“I think what you need most at this time is a friend.” She pauses for a second, and then continues to fold and twist my hair. “If you will let me, I will be exactly that.”
A slow smile appears on my face, and my eyes start to flutter open. Quickly I try to shut them, but a marvelous sight catches my gaze.
My hair is compiled into an elaborate updo, with braids and weavings. It looks so beautiful with my green eyes and the flawless face that isn’t truly mine. I gaze at the wondrous style, trying to figure out how she did that so quickly.
“Can I come with you?” she inquires softly, “I promise I won’t be a hassle.”
I am still struck silent; partly because of her earlier request, and partly because she actually wants to come with me into hiding. Is a screw loose in her head or something?
“Of course you can come with me,” I reply, “but why would you want to?”
“I have been in this mansion cleaning for over thirty years,” her voice gains an edge of wisdom, “doing the exact same things over and over. I’ll miss my steak, but this is a chance for change. For excitement. And what is the point of having a new friend if you can never talk to them?”
“That’s true,” I admit, laughing softly. Thirty years. I can’t imagine her to be that much older than me… although I could have thought that with her other appearance last night.
“So can I, Mistress?” she asks, reaching over and pulling a thin flower out of a delicate vase. With precision and accuracy, she places it in my updo, putting the final touch on the masterpiece.
I laugh genially. “Danae, don’t call me Mistress. That is how a servant would address me.” She laughs too, and lets out a little squeal of happiness.
“Thank you, Mona,” she nearly stutters on my name, “I have never had a woman as a friend before.”
“Me either,” I say in reply, and she gasps.
“But you are so beautiful! How could you not have some friends at school?!” she practically exclaims. I just shake my head.
“This new skin is only a facade… the one I used to have looked far worse.”
She just looks at me with concern. “You are like a flower in full bloom,” she states, before your appearance may have just been budding, but your conversion is what made it truly blossom.”
“But that was just because of my conversion! If I didn’t go through with the conversion… this would have never happened!” I say furiously.
“I tend to believe that a conversion gives a werewolf different levels of beauty, based on the inside beauty they always have possessed.” She jumps off the bed and walks towards the closet once more. Danae returns with some underwear and heavy socks. She stuffs it in the bag, making it full to the top. “You are exceptionally beautiful, Mona,” she says softly, “and I don’t think you fully appreciate the blessing God has given you.”
Expressionless, I stand up, staring at the face that isn’t mine. Could it truly reflect who I am on the inside, or is Danae just spitting out lies?
“Come on,” I take the pouch and start walking outside my room.
“I want to pack first,” Danae apologetically says, “I will meet up with you in a minute. Get some breakfast.”
I stare at her for a second, then without a word I walk downstairs, my stomach grumbling. The first werewolf I see is Yi, cooking an omelet in the kitchen. His hair is messy and wild, which contrasts greatly with the frilly apron he is wearing.
He turns to the sound of my laughter, startled. Once he realizes that it is directed at him, a blush spreads across his cheeks. “I didn’t want anything to get on my clothes!” he nearly squeals.
“Of course…” I chuckle, “while you have that on, though, can you make me some scrambled eggs?”
He flips the omelet, and then slides it out onto a plate. He carries it into dining room, then returns and slides off the apron. “You can have it,” he smirks and hands it to me, “make your own breakfast.”
“That’s not something an apron-loving man should say when he is caught in the act,” I smirk back, showing him my small camera, which is in the process of recording his every movement.
“THAT’S NOT FAIR!” he yells, lunging for my phone. With lightning speed, I draw my hand away at the last second, Yi tumbling on the floor. He snaps to his feet, racing at me like a bull. I cringe slightly and start to close my eyes, but a form slips in front of me and takes Yi head on. Yi bounces off like a spring, dizziness in his eyes.
“No one is touching Mona on my watch,” Ray smiles, his body incredibly close to mine.
“Don’t worry, Ray, he was just playing,” I step out from behind him. “Yi, could you please make me some scrambled eggs now?” I laugh. As he watches, I slide the camera deep into my pocket—so deep that he would have to a$$ault me to get to it.
He glances at me angrily, then ambles over to the refrigerator and pulls out some eggs.
After another quick giggle, I turn back towards Ray. “Where are the others?”
“Getting ready,” he replies, “I’m surprised you got packed so quickly. What did you bring?”
“Just one set of clothes,” I dryly state, “it’s not like you gave me room to pack anything else.”
“True.” He lets loose a big, hearty laugh.
“Couldn’t you have given me a bigger bag?” I complain, but he shakes his head.
“Look, I got a debit card, and that is what counts. It has all of our money on it. We can buy what we need.”
“But-”
“We need to stay light,” he gently, yet firmly insists, “we can’t have you dragging a backpack around.” I give up immediately, looking at the floor. They just don’t know what it is like to be a girl.
A tall, muscled form fills the doorway, his gaze directed at Ray. His face is magnificent yet weary, with faint circles underneath his eyes. Even one glance at him strikes pain in my heart.
“Xavier,” I begin, and he looks my way. Fire and electricity immediately snap between us with our sudden connection, along with passion and regret. In addition, a strange type of hate is emanating from him, burning me to a crisp. Ironically, I shiver.
“I need to talk-” I am interrupted by the shrill sound of the doorbell ringing. It sounds like the chime of a thousand bells, making even the ground vibrate.
“Why don’t you get the door, Mona?” Ray asks politely, though eyeing Xavier.
“Okay,” I shuffle to the hallway and look back at Xavier. At first we make eye contact but Xavier looks away, dissatisfied. I shake my head slightly, and then I start to run. Before the last chime sounds, I am in the foyer, staring out of the thin windows.
Rain is flooding down, the cold fogging up my view. The clouds are dark and intimidating, shrouding the world like a thick blanket. A shivering figure is huddled outside, his or her head and arms covered by a thin jacket.
Without a moment more of hesitation, I fling the door open, hastily urging the person inside. I can tell that the figure is a girl, for she is wearing a knee-length dress, one that is rather low-cut and very fashionable.
“What’s your name?” I ask her softly. She doesn’t answer, clutching her soaked jacket with long, pointy fingernails. “Do you want me to take that and wash it?” I gesture towards the jacket. She remains silent, unmoving.
I move my hand towards the jacket, but then she finally speaks, stopping me with her voice. “Where is Xavier?” she softly demands, “I need to see him.” All the while she keeps her head down, as if she is afraid of my gaze. Water drips off her bare skin, soaking the carpet beneath her feet.
“Okay, but don’t you want to change into something dry first?” I offer, but she shakes her head sharply. Golden ringlets tumble from her jacket head covering, shiny and smooth.
“Come on then.” I lead the way back to the kitchen. She follows me softly, making almost no sound. “Hey guys, we have a visitor. It looks like she came in the rain.”
“A she?” Jake and Yi perk up, their voices blurring together. All of them race to the doorway. Xavier, though lagging behind, follows their movement. Ray remains sitting at the table, engrossed in his newspaper.
“Yeah,” I say dryly. They stare at her like she is an unwrapped present, immediately turning on the charm.
“What’s your name?” they chorus, smiling brightly. They drink in her beautiful appearance, her nice figure and golden hair.
She is silent for a minute, and then she says, “Meryl.”
Xavier turns stone white, the very life sucked out of his statuesque features. “Meryl,” he chokes, “how did you find us?”
Her head snaps up, and the werewolves are immediately struck by a familiar face, judging by their expressions. She is wearing thick Raybans, so I can’t see her eyes, but her skin is flawless, along with her luscious red lips.
“I have… connections,” she says slowly, peering straight at Xavier. He narrows his eyes, staying silent.
She takes a step towards him, distraught in her features. “Why did you leave me, and the entire club for that matter, that night? Was it because of a girl?” She gets right to the point.
He stood, his face hardening. “Maybe it was, Meryl. But you really don’t have to know. You have broken our contract, and I can sue you until there isn’t a dime left in your pocket. If I were you, I would leave right now before that happens.”
“Was it this girl?” she mercilessly continues, whirling around and flinging a single, accusing finger at me. “Was it she that bewitched you?”
He casts one glance at me, and then returned his gaze to her, silent. A smile appears on Meryl’s face, one full of laughter and mocking.
“Or maybe you left because you were different,” she turns back to face Xavier, “I saw you that night. I saw who you really are.” Her voice takes on a menacing edge, but then softens with her next words. “I am the only one that will accept you, Xavier.”
Xavier stares at her, horrified.
She smiles, “you are a monster, Xavier. I am the only person you can be yourself with.”
I can’t take it much longer. This is like an episode of a soap opera. Does she really and truly believe that? He is so handsome that any girl would run off with him, regardless of his quirky, morphing-into-a-wolf tendencies.
I break down into a fit of laughter, causing the crazed girl’s attention to turn to me. “So you know too?” she asks dangerously, each word like a sharp dagger against my skin. “You think you can deal with him?”
“Meryl!” Xavier frantically tries to turn her attention away, “you only saw me shift once! You know nothing else about me!”
She ignores him, staring at me. “Looks like I’ll have to get rid of you then,” she mutters sharply, and then flings off her sunglasses. Her eyes are as red as blood.
She races at me, the jacket flying off her arms and head right into Ray’s face. I quickly dodge her attack, running to other side of the kitchen. Ray snaps to his feet, looking anxiously at Meryl.
She looks like a rabid dog, full of thirst for blood and fighting. All four werewolves run at her, but she avoids them easily. She is very quick and nimble, racing through their grasp like it is just a game.
Somehow Meryl makes it over to my side, a Swiss Army Knife in her hands. She grabs my arm as quick as lightning, holding it to my throat. “Don’t move!” she shrieks, pressing it towards my neck. A single bead of blood forms at the edge of the knife, dripping down it towards my chest.
They freeze, even their heartbeats slowing. Her smile widens to one of madness. “Now, Xavier, I want you to watch me kill her,” she says darkly, staring straight at him. My life flashes before my eyes, and I feel even more regretful for trying to end it only a couple of weeks ago. It is such a wonderful gift… one so easy to lose.
A few more agonizing seconds pass, full of pain as she makes an even deeper cut. I look down towards the blood, and then snap my gaze to where it was before. A tear bubbles at the edge of my eye, sliding down my cheek. The other werewolves look just as horror-struck as I feel right now.
Suddenly, there is a blur of movement, and Meryl howls in pain. The knife slips from her hold, clattering on the floor. The werewolves immediately race into action, and within a few minutes she is firmly held by Jake.
Danae stands on the table, holding a dagger dripping with blood that isn’t mine. She shoots me a smile as the werewolves force her on that table, nimbly jumping off and taking the knife to the sink.
Shock crosses my face when I realize what she has done. “Danae!” I shout, racing over to her, “you saved my life!”
“Yes,” she says plainly, “I couldn’t lose the only friend I have.” She washes off her knife, then takes a towel and wipes my neck.
“Thank you so much!” I smile, and then hesitantly laugh. I have never felt so… relieved in my whole life. I walk back to the table, and without fear I place my hand on Meryl’s head. It is so easy for me to heal a person now, having done it so often.
When the red had finally faded from her eyes, the werewolves still refrain from releasing their hold. Xavier’s eyes are bloodshot, full of savagery and anger.
“We have to go,” Ray abruptly let go of Meryl, fury in his features, “the Council must have already forced our barriers down if a Shifter managed to make it to our doors. Who knows what will come our way!”
“Yeah, we have to go,” Xavier agrees, his silky smooth voice washing over us. “Put her away,” he commands. Jake and Yi silently slide off to do his bidding.
“Can Danae come with us?” I ask, a hopeful expression in my features. They both stare at me, confused.
“Why would she want to come?” Ray asks bitingly. Danae appears by my side, smiling. At this distance, I can tell she has aged considerably, a few gray hairs sprouting from her scalp.
“Because I want to have an adventure,” she smiles enchantingly, and I see Ray’s firm expression soften. Without a word, he turns and walks to the door, vanishing from my gaze. Xavier looks at me for a second, and then follows Ray.
After a couple of minutes, Danae and I meet them at the door. My neck is patched with a band aid, and I am carrying my small pouch. Danae is adorned likewise, but the two werewolves are carrying nothing.
“Let’s go,” Xavier says softly.
The rain soaks my hair as we race into the darkness.
T B C.
When will their quarrel stop, I want the former Xavier back ??
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