Ashima

He tried to make as if everything was all right, but I knew Clay, and things weren’t ‘all right,’ as he claimed. Something in his voice, it was sad, and my heart ached for my best friend.

As much as I wanted to tell him about my conversation with Ambrose, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was unnerving. He scared the hell out of me and yet was incredibly seductive. There wasn’t any one thing that made me fear him and run to Boston; maybe it was that I wanted him, but every time I breathed, I smelled danger.

Visiting the aquarium in Boston, enchanted by the seahorses, as I put my hand on the glass they swam as if to touch me as well. Walking past each viewing area, the creatures within seemed to be aware of my presence, finally I had to leave, people were making comments.

I wandered through the streets; hands in my pockets, keeping to myself, when the fine hairs on the back of my neck were on end again. The footsteps, the ones I’d heard in Florida, had that same peculiar sound.

In that moment, I made my decision, so I called him, convinced him he needed support, not sharing my own misery, but wanting to help him in his, I was more persistent and soon persuaded him to let me join them.

They were going to the Cotswoulds Countryside, outside of Oxford; reserving a 15th Century Manor House, Le Manoir Aux Quat Salsons. I found this rather odd, but then privacy was something appealing, so I accepted the invitation I’d wrangled out of him.

Gratefully, I made my preparations to leave.

It was all I could to keep from physically shaking all the time; I’d made a quick exit from the bar. How could I be so stupid flirting with Ambrose, there were so many red flags, and I ignored them. Abandonment wasn’t an issue I dealt with easily, and Clay’s flight on his birthday, felt like abandonment all right, I wasn’t angry, I trusted Clay, and if he just up and left, it was for good reason, he never did anything lightly, well hardly ever. He was just confusing, and his face was ashen.

Maybe there was some anger, what possessed me to go to a bar in the first place, I’ll never know, dad had taught me to be so careful and yet I let my guard down. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I feel like a mouse in some maze, and he’s the one watching me. Could have been those intense eyes? The more we talked, the more I knew he wasn’t human. Okay call me crazy, but he’s just different, even then I didn’t leave, I could blame it on the alcohol, partially it was because of he attraction, and partially because around him, I had this feeling of power, if you’d call it that, frankly I was a bit inebriated, and I don’t remember.

What I do know is he could have hurt me, I allowed myself to get in that place with him, and he didn’t. It wasn’t pity, it was more like a game, but as scary as it is to think, I think we connected on some other level, and that’s what made him hesitate, why are girls drawn to bad boys? And they always want to think that they meant something? That’s where I am, wanting to believe that I got to him. It’s not like many things get to him, by the end of the evening I could tell he was a cold fish, but as he looked at me, there was a deliberation, a conscious decision to kill me, or kill me and change me into something else to be with him. God, I sound insane, and how does one interpret feelings, but that’s what I felt, real or not. Maybe I just wanted to matter to someone.

I’ve had a long time to think about this, develop and discard theories as I lived through my day-to-day without Clay. His silence, his absence an obvious need to deal with his own demons, I’ve been there, but it hurt none-the-less, and his cryptic emails, gave me no clue to what was happening, and for the first time in my life, I began to feel isolated, yes, I began to isolate myself just for self preservation, only going to class.

I’m not sure when I realized I was being followed, it was more of an awareness I guess, a realization, the sound of footsteps behind you, the phone ringing, and when you answer it no one is there. On one of my few outings with friends, I caught Ambrose staring at me across the room, as if to taunt me.

So I ran, packed up and got out of Florida and began traveling North, stopping here and there, and just when I began to feel safe, the overwhelming feeling of being stalked, and terror slow overtaking me like a slow cancer eating one up inside.

I’d wanted to be self-sufficient, to take care of myself, but death followed me and in each town, a series of violent attacks, following me my wake and I felt responsible.

There was only one thing I could think of doing.

Shaking, I picked up my cell and pressed one on my speed dial.

Boston was cold and icy, cheerful signs of the season greeted me in every shop, and street corner, but now they offered no comfort. Like a little child moving up and down as if holding it in because he or she couldn’t find a bathroom, my feet flat, my body shaking as if to will Clay into answering.

Finally, his familiar voice “What’s up homes?” I had to giggle, hearing that it almost melted everything away.

All I could must was three little words, “I’m in trouble,” before the tears started streaming down my face. Thank the goddess he couldn’t see me.

“A circle around the moon, is a sign of trouble not far behind,” I whispered close to his ear, as I stood there, arm draped around his shoulders, “Or maybe it’s a birthday moon?” I offered with a smile. “Here,” I placed the small package in his hands, now, go back to your party, you.” I attempted to turn him and push him toward the noise calling from behind us.

“Really Clay, I’m okay, its just hard, dad loved this day,” my words trailed off, remember the joy my father found in the holidays.

Some of his ATO friends were calling Clay; he kissed me on the cheek. “ Give Luke a chance he’s a stand up guy, Ash.”

Smiling I pushed him toward the drunken fraternity members. Everyone was still mourning our football loss to Maryland, and promising to beat Virginia next weekend, Clay was a Seminoles fan. I never really got into it, but I pretended, you do that for your best friend.

Standing on the beach, the salt air filling my nostrils, I began to cry. This was my senior year and it was suppose to be different. But all of that changed in an instant.

Change, honestly it’s been all I can remember we were always changing moving or something. My adopted dad, Jeffery Forester loved change; he embraced it much like he did holidays or that’s what I thought.

Dad adopted me at ten, the only survivor of a tragic accident. Tragic accident, that’s all I’ve been told. He’d promised to tell me to explain the details so I could understand, understand a live that I can’t remember, “Give it time, Ash, just give it time.”

So I had. We’d lived a nomadic gypsy lifestyle, moving from one place to another, following my dad’s work, he was a microbiologist, or that was the story he told me. When I was sixteen I’d decided he was in the witness protection program.

He had plenty of friends, friends who could find us on a dig in Egypt, a lab in Washington, it never mattered they always knew where to find him. Yet, my own friendships were discourage, “People will turn on you Ash, never trust anyone. Trust your gut, that will save you, Ash.”

He was a brilliant teacher, at I thought so, and still I yearned to go to a real classroom, as with every year I felt dorkier and dorkier. Unschooled in the social graces, I was a geek.

Finally, I convinced him to allow me to attend school. Two years at Columiba and my final two years attending FSU. He’d wanted to move more, but it would have taken me longer to finish, and I desperately wanted to finish and move out on my own. I was tired of my Nomadic adventures, and the promises I’d understand on my 21st birthday.

Following his advice, I kept to myself, until Clay. He’d forced his way into my life, but I wouldn’t let him into my life, I couldn’t trust, but he was different. Even when I wouldn’t go out, he was still there, there when my father died, there when I needed a friend, Clay was always there, and he became my friend. I’ll always have a bit of a crush on him, as I think he will on me, but we are past that point, our time if we could have had one is over.

Dad left me a modest but adequate inheritance, until I can graduate and get out on my own, now it’s not as appealing. I guess it’s just been a point of rebellion.

It’s Clay’s birthday, and mine isn’t so very far away. Is it normal to be afraid of one’s birthday? I don’t know. But looking at the moon, gives not comfort, not as it has in the past, and I feel cold and afraid.

With a sigh, I turn toward the beach house, not sure if I’m ready to meet Luke, it’s not Luke, its me. I’d love to find a good guy, live normally, there is just something in the air, something that salty smell is masking, something rancid, I’d love to tell Clay how I’m feeling but he’d think I was crazy, and Luke well he’d think I should be put away.

Wiping the tears, I sink to the ground, I miss my dad, and it’s a hurt that just won’t go away.

The breeze picks up, and now I can smell the rain. Standing, I brush myself off, I must look a mess, my life is one and still everyone expects me to go on and I do, one step at a time. But the fragile threads that held my life together are unravelling and there is nothing I can do to get it back.

One day Clay will fall in love, and as much as he swears, I’ll be alone again. And so I decide, as soon as I graduate, I’m out of here. Dad said we’d been here too long already; maybe he was right.

Still the moon shines down on me, and I’m mesmerized, the moon has me in her spell.

There’s a circle around the moon, a sign of trouble not far behind. “Be good to me,” I whisper.

Delightful chills run over my body as she kisses my mouth, it’s all I can do to keep from purring like a kitten, or if I had room, rolling over on my back so she could scratch my stomach, like I’d imagine one might do.

It’s weird how in the most in appropriate times, your mind wanders off on some unimportant and unrelated tangent, but the most wonderful woman in the world is kissing me, and here I am wondering what is like to have a puppy or dog, and for a moment, my kissing her back is purely reflex.

And then, her tongue does something unexpected, and I return at mock speed to my body, spiralling out of control as fine bumps appear on my arms, all of the delicate hairs standing at attention as if they were saluting a general in some sexual army.

“MMMMMM,” slips out so far my control.

“Really?” I breathe hoarsely, as she removes her tongue, almost forcibly, as I don’t want to let it go. But the irritating impatient honking of the vehicle behind us, reminds both of us that for now, at least we have to concentrate on something other than each other.

“Do you know, well, I guess you wouldn’t,” I begin as my cheeks warm to the embarrassment that yet once again betrays me. And I have to wonder will I always get embarrassed in front of the lovely vision next to me? I laugh bravely to cover it up.

But I continue regardless. The brilliant sun with her warm fingers stream through the window, or perhaps it’s my own body betraying me as well, and I have to fiddle with the knobs for the air conditioning to cool things off.

“Did you know that I’ve never been to a drive through, or a restaurant, or a movie? Okay I snuck in once on the end of a movie.” I give a resigned shrug. “Pathetic isn’t it?”

I wasn’t happy with things the way they had been, running was getting old, and they were getting much to close. Searing pain once again racked my body, it was always that way at moonrise, the tattoo on my back would burn fire hot, and that’s how they could track me.

Being the last of my kind, I had no one to talk to no mother to take me in her arms, when I cried, all I can remember; waking from a nightmare, my mother in the next room screaming for me to run, in the background the gnashing of teeth.

For as long as I could remember, I’d been different; but I never knew why. I’d been on my own, and feeling the first pangs of womanhood, when the tattoo first began to change. Was it a tattoo? I never knew for sure, I’d always had it, and even in the earliest forms of my memory, my mother did too.

For years, I’d attempt to figure out the puzzle that was my life, not realizing that others were as well, others who held the secrets to who and what I was. Yes, there were powers, but most, if there were anymore lay undiscovered, buried with the remains that had been my mother.

Along the way, I found out some things, people are good, and evil, and both lie within each person, two threads at times wound much too tight, and I couldn’t tell the difference, so for the most part I kept away from the world, books my best friends. In each new town, I’d seek out the library, making friends with the characters I learned to love.

There too, I learned of the ones who hunted me, werewolf and vampire, both wanting dominance, but the wolves, settling for my death, rather than have be turned into a night walker. It was in the library, I learned I could hide, I’d been cornered, I’d pushed my slim body as close to the shelves as possible, wishing my self invisible, and I was.

The library, where I learned how to survive, to be a chameleon of sorts, adapting to each society, living for ages, but mortal, what a joke. Here and there a book would disappear and I’d devour it, at times memorizing each page. Glamour, that was the technical term, but that knowledge had come much later, but I digress.

Finally making my way to the states, I ended up in the City of Angeles, a place of dark angels if you ask me, and as I hid on the streets, tales of a group of heroes spoken in the belly of night, when I was out-of-view, intrigued me. By the time, I’d gotten enough courage to find them, they’d moved.

So here I am, standing in front of huge doors, hand poised on the handle. The feelings I get tell me to run, but I’m tired of running, after all I can’t be that special.

Taking a deep breath, a quick word of prayer to the goddess, I walk into the offices of Wolfram and Hart, hoping I made the right decision.

All time was lost on me, we could have been there for minutes or hours, and for once I didn’t care, I just wanted this moment in time.

My body melted into his, like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, tiny rivers of ice cream flowing down the cone.

Slowly the clouds drifted past the moon, their shadows kissing the earth in an eerie dance of death, all the signs were approaching but I the cause and the cure was oblivious; instead my lips were locked with his, two bodies on fire, oozing with desire.

Emotions, not unknown to me, but always my downfall where sweeping me away, in the first exciting tides of a relationship. My heart beating fast, and his beating with mine, like two skaters ice dancing on a frozen pond, I stayed within his gentle, yet demanding embrace.

As the breeze picked up, I could feel them, in the distance, something bayed at the moon. “Oz,” I whispered against his lips, “we’ve got to go, its not safe here,” but my body didn’t move, I kissed him harder, becoming demanding in my own way.

Poetic, this was a moon goddess and a shaft shifter, rather like a slayer and a vampire. My tongue found its way over his lips, soft deepening kissing, playing against him, all reason out the door.

I was being swept away by everything that was Oz, and I loved it.

Calm down, Ashima, I tried chiding myself, my heart beating so fast, I thought the entire group could hear it, not that I knew how many people stayed at this estate, I’d seen people come and go, council people, I remained confused as to who did what, so I stayed to myself, in my head, I could see them all rushing in wondering what was going on and what the noise was, I wondered if the blush matched my beating heart, if it was that obvious.

I know my heart gave me away, Oz’s hearing was keen, as was his sense of smell, particularly now so close to the change.

My lips still felt the tingle of his kiss, the warmth of his skin, his breath on my face; did I dare kiss him again? My dazzling kissing skills were impressive I know, my nose hitting his face, but everything in me felt as if he wanted to kiss me again. All I had to do was lean in, every part of me on fire, fire from the changes in me and fire that he was kindling, a want, an urge, a desire for Oz.

I studied his face wondering what he felt. This was so in appropriate, the timing off, one cousin dead, another here visiting and he seemed distracted.

Nervous, one hand slipped down to grab the delicate chocolate, and I popped it into his mouth. “If a chocolate gets me a kiss, what would …,” then I stopped. “Okay that sounded better in my head.”

I was trying to flirt, and badly at that. Lowering my head I bumped my forehead against his.

“Could you just kiss me again before I kill us?” I mustered trying to sound confident and sexy.

The searing pain in my back woke me; that was how it always began, flashes of pain until the full moon rose, and then a few hours as the elaborate moon tattoo on my back begins to glow, a beacon to those who would hunt me. A cold chill crossed my spin as the pain passed.

The hot shower cleansing shower refreshed me as the beads of sweat twirled down the drain, washing away, for, the memory of the pain. Standing there, the water pelted me; a million thoughts ran through my head. I felt I needed to talk to someone other than Oz about this threat I was becoming, but then I was beginning go feel save here, maybe I should just sneak out for those days and yet I knew, Oz wouldn’t let me go alone.

Damn the pain, I was having the sweetest dream about Oz and a meadow. I was making a flower bouquet out of Queen Anne’s lace. The snowy foliage, dropping little white blossoms in my lap, as Oz dozed on a blanket. In the tree a dove began to coo as Oz opened a sleepy eye, and smiled. Sitting up slowly he moved in as if – and then I woke up.

Not only did I wake up in pain, but also a little confused. Oz was interested in someone else, not that it was important he was my friend, and I needed friends. It was just that when his skin touched mine, the little hair on the nape of my neck stood on end, giving me little shivers of delight. Chalking up these feelings to loneliness, I resolved to meet other people. This was the day I was going to make new friends!

The fluffy towels were wonderful. Living here as if I were living in a palace, the staff treated me like a queen, and I’d already made many friends there. At times I snuck down into the kitchen to help the chief, today I was even preparing lunch. The smells of the differing cuisines reminded me of my travels, and that made me happy. The house hold staff loved me as I kept my room clean and scrubbed my toilet. I can still remember the chambermaid’s face when she caught me. Pampering wasn’t in my experience base; anywhere I’d been I’d always had to carry my own weight. Here I felt like a fish out of water.

Today I spent time on my makeup, carefully chose my clothes, I wanted to look my best. I’ve never spent this much time on my clothes; this day was important and first impressions were lasting.

Dawning my best smile, closing my door with a deep breath, I walked to the stairs, and began a half dance down the massive stairway, talking them two at a time, as I danced I sang.

( ”Perfect )

Sweet dripping off my body, I sat up in bed, the nightmare leaving me as the cool air brought me back to reality. My body still shook from the terror the phantom brought me as I slept. The nightmares increased as the full moon came closer and closer, soon the ornate tattoo on my back would begin to glow.

Never in my life had I felt so isolated or alone, even though I’d kept a solitary existence, I’d had the things that spoke of home to me, surrounding me comforting me, yet here I only had a few small possessions to comfort me. As much as I’d prided myself on being a loner, opening up to Griffin had been incredible, his absence now only made me lonelier. I would never understand men for as long as I lived, and the brief dalliance with him only proved that I wasn’t a loner, and if I kept this course there would be no one to take my place. The idea of living forever alone was disheartening.

Pulling on a sweater and jeans, I lit out for the library. Lately it had been my home, I could read for days. It was hard to fathom that these people didn’t appreciate what they had at their disposal. It was easy for me to hide in the shadows, using the glamours I’d learned I’d become invisible to all but those who knew how to see me. When the dark man had come the library I’d hidden, then followed him, and sat outside as he read to the girl. That had touched my heart.

Climbing the tall ladder, fingering the precious volume, I carefully pulled it from the shelf into my greedy hands. I was amazed at the lack of dust; someone cared for these volumes with loving hands, I could live in here.

The fire crackled happily in the massive fireplace, the flames leaping over the logs. I never saw the staff, but everything was always perfect. Since the room was always deserted, I curled up in my favorite chair and began the book on Lycans. This rich volume was very rare, and I hoped would offer some way to defeat her.

Lost in the book, I didn’t hear the door open, I wasn’t aware I was no longer alone until I looked up.

I’d been awaked by … well I don’t know who he was, nor was I use to someone just invading my privacy. Jumping up in bed, I’d hidden my nakedness. Still asleep, I was lost in his conversation, and hadn’t a clue who Cordellia was, nor at this time of night did I care.

For hours, I tossed and turned thinking about the events that had happened that day. I’d though my life was strange, but life here was bizarre. This was my safe house, for now anyway and my attempts to make friends were thwarted.

Oz was noticeable absent. Willow who I’d made this long trek to meet and hopefully become her protégé wouldn’t talk to me; I was invisible to the talk Texan, and well to the rest of the household.

My days had been spent learning the estate, that was always rule one. But life here was incredibly boring. Without anyone to turn to, I wandered off, dangerous I know. But I had to know if Griffin was all right.

Stealthy I made it back to my flat. It reeked of her, of death. Griffin’s smell was cold, gone, and happily he was alive somewhere; but, somewhere was not here.

Slipping in, I gathered those belongings I’d kept with me for so long. Longingly I looked at those meaningless possessions, I’d learned to love. I’d be back here and she’d be gone. That was the cat and mouse game I’d played with her and would until one of us was dead or I was turned. But she knew nothing of my kind.

Sadly returning to this my new home I dreaded it, however I hadn’t a choice. I’d never had to rely on anyone or anything, having to stay at this estate was frightening for me, in a different way. It had always been my choice to interact with other people, but here there were always people everywhere. I’d begun reading about the Watcher’s Council, and now I knew what a slayer was and her call. In many ways I was like them … a chosen one just called to a different life.

These thoughts picked at my brain as I lie there tossing and turning almost ready to scream. Throwing on clothes, I padded downstairs on bare feet. The light streamed from the refrigerator as I rummaged through finding delectable delights.

Hearing the nose as they entered celebratory, I prayed they wouldn’t be hungry, I didn’t want to be caught here like this.

Searing pain racked my body, but I hid it, I always did. In this cycle, I my powers were stronger.

On the ornate bedside table, the pain pills in the plastic bottle remained capped. Pills the kindly doctor gave me for my arm. Away from them I took it out of the sling. It would heal quickly during the moon’s cycle, which was the only positive in this latest ordeal with Laurel. After the full moon, I would have had to deal with the pain until the next moon rise.

Quietly, walking over to the table, the fingers of my left hand fingered the bottle, wondering how they would affect me. I couldn’t take a chance, not when I was vulnerable; at least here Oz and his friends provided protection. Although by the look of things the protection they could provide would be about as affective as the pain medication would be on my back pain. Should I even call it back pain? That’s not what it was; it was the moon calling out to me.

Fluttering, the sheer curtains under the window tapestry attracted my attention, their gentle dance call me to look out into the night sky.

An eerie luminescence veiled the moon in his glory. Spiny fingers of light parted the fluffy clouds as they made their winding to his lover, touching the tresses of her hair as the light reached the earth. The entire world reacted to their love making, well at least the humans did.

Reaching in the wooden wardrobe, I looked for the darkest clothes I could find, wanting to cover the tale tail signs of the moon in my body, shining like a beacon to anyone who would look.

Covering my nakedness with the thin gown, my bare feet soundlessly caressing the wooden floors as I snuck out of the lavish room, down the long halls, the winding stair case, the night air enveloped my body heightening all my senses.

I lay down on the dewy grass, looking up into the night sky. At least here, I’d be able to watch and see what others couldn’t; at least here for this moon rise I’d be safe.

Making what wouldn’t have been a snow angel if there had been snow, I flapped my arms and legs like a mad woman, the lush grass my bed. For the moment, I was content.

His hand was large, overly large. He gave off bad vibes, terrifying me. His hand pulled me along the slick, narrow alley ways. I looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking.

At my first opportunity, I wriggled out of his grasp, and ran for dear life.

I’m not sure how far I ran, but I was on a road walking away from everything and everyone. The moon shone done on me lighting my way. I was glad no one was there they might things I was an alien. In a way I guess I was.

Cold and tired, I had to rest. Curling up underneath a tree I attempted to sleep, just wanting someone to rescue me.

Faith-

1. Ongoing Plot Arcs
When the potentials lost their powers the powers went back into Faith and Buffy - which they do not know at this time. They do have a psychic link. At times Buffy is in Faith's head and vice versa. Sometimes they are both in each other's head. This caues mood swings in Faith, being not so hositle.

Faith's sister Hope has been made a vampire and at times she has a bond with her aswell, causing Faith to exihibt vamperic tendencies.

Spaith - Spike and Faith are a couple. They will have ups and downs but they are a couple.

2. Tainted Gifts - When Faith wears her gift she is very honest with her emotions. When Faith is in her head the evilness gives her sucidal tendencies.

It had been a long time since I’d had to live on the streets. But as I neared my apartment, I could smell them. Griffin’s fate was yet another thing. I didn’t know if he were dead of alive. I’d told him being around me was dangerous and that was certainly the good news.

The fog hung think like a shroud, as I wandered through the London streets. I tried to remember what brought me here this time. I’d warned Griffin to stay away, yet I feared he was dead.

Many times I thought life would be easier if I hadn’t been born, or …. god so many choices. Yet I didn’t know how to kill myself.

Would anyone even believe my story? Every day it sounded more and more bizarre.

I could feel the call of the Hellmouth calling me. Hundreds of years have taught me a few things.

Why I hadn’t paid more attention, I’d be so much more powerful. But I guess it wasn’t in the cards.

The rain began to fall, big fat slow drops at first, and then it started to pour. I stretched out my hands and just spun around trying to forget everything.

I’d spun so much I was dizzy and I fell bruising both of my knees.

Tears stung my eyes, I tried to get my barings, I was lost and that was dangerous in the part of London. But, I really didn’t care anymore. Life wasn’t worth it.

A strong hand was in front of me, trying to help me up.

I thought I’d be safe, I thought that well I thought a lot of things. How I got here I didn’t know and where was Griffin? I’d just run, that was always a safe bet. She was getting closer that was obvious. Keeping the glamour up was harder, hiding was harder.

Realizing one’s mistakes is always important, living through them is harder. Things had begun and I could feel them. Something was different.

They were working across the crowded room, cutting off my means of escape. Frantic, I moved about looking for a means of taking my leave unnoticed. If I did anything now, it would only cause trouble. I wasn’t against causing trouble, but until I showed my hand they wouldn’t know for sure I was the one.

“Yo,” she said with a smile as I bumped into them. “Where’s the fire?” She was really calm and collected. He smelled like a vamp but yet he didn’t. Okay this was getting much too weird for me.

She smelled me, “Can you fight little sister?” She hissed in my ear. “Yah huh,” I answered confused. “But I’m not a fighter,” I tried to explain as the music got louder. “I’m better at running,” I managed to get out.

With one fluid motion she was in front of me. “Wanna rumble?” She daunted the lead vamp, as her hand went into her jacket pulling out a stake and dusting him.

“Your, you’re the slayer?” I shouted excitedly. “One of the chose two,” she said proudly.

He’s there so close. I just know I feel safer with him here. I’ve just met him and he is talking about leaving? I can’t let him go.

( And so we talked … adult themes suggested )

We talked until the pizza finally arrived. Being with him time seemed to stand still and yet it went by way too fast.

So now I knew he had waited for me just as I had waited for him. I also knew he’d protect me until the death and that worried me. I was so dangerous for him. Things here were only getting worse.

For him his mission to confront his father. I'd compliated things; with me he would face many more enemies.

I had to let him go for his safety but I didn’t want to tell him go. I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to say goodbye when the time came. I’d already panicked when I thought he was leaving. Watching him smile at me I knew he would never leave me.

We needed to find Willow. Griff answered the door remaining incredibly protective and gallant. I didn’t want to remind him I’d been on my own for a long time. As I’d seen in Spain men tended to be protective of their women and destiny called us to be together so in his eyes I guess I was his woman. Maybe one day I would be.

The vamps had been following me for what seemed like forever but in actuality it had only been a few long tedious nights in an intricate game of cat and mouse. With each vamp slain three seemed to replace them. During the day my clansmen were after me. Known as seers the Andalucia clan could predict my every move. Casting bones, using glamour I did everything within my power to keep them at bay. My ascension would take place upon my return to the clan. They were powerless without a new Tiagra.

London held no joy for me. Only the possible meeting with Willow held any excitement. I spent my nights at the club, a local safe house for Wiccans, the Black Raven even lost its excitement. But it was a place I could go to get out of my apartment.

Another dreary rain-soaked evening and I was out on the prowl. My best bet was to kill the rouge vamps out after me. I was a pawn in the slowly growing feud between the Werewolves’ and Vampire’s. With the moon cycle disrupted the Lycan’s would lose a cadre of warriors if those bitten didn’t turn. Once when I was little I made the moon dance. Since that day I had been hunted.

I hated mass transit. It was there they cornered me like a rat in trap. Then he came along, tall, slender elegant. My heart skipped a beat as he took me off guard.

I turned stepping in front of the vamp and with a quick thrust I placed a little silver dagger through the vamps heart. It looked at the dark stranger screamed and vanished in a puff of dust… I looked at him long and hard, then sternly I asked

“Who the Hell are you?”

I want to run him off, send him away. But he was the one I’d dreamed of since I was small. My body was racked with small shivers. His voice was calming, quiet. Yet to me he smelled of them.

Something beyond time and space drew me to him and him to me. I took him to the Black Raven. I still didn’t quite trust him so I kept the way secret. Besides he couldn’t get there without one of us.

Griffin was certainly a distraction. I’d not counted on his invading every sense my very being. The cool night air was enticing the breeze as seductive as his kiss. For the first time in my life I was totally wrapped up in a man.

But he felt them coming. They were always coming. For once I ran.

He was exhausted falling asleep on my couch. Softly, I climbed in his arms and for the first time in my life I slept throughout the night. As I drifted off I knew that I would be in his arms forever.

Sneaking out was too damn easy. You’d think they’d know better by now. I’d mastered the glamour when I was just a kid. I could get in and out of anywhere without being detected.

I hated leaving the clan and the beautiful sun-drenched Spanish countryside I loved. But I’d be damned if I was going to be the Ancalucia gypsy witch. I was too wild a creature, feral, demanding passionate. I’d never be tamed.

I’d heard of the red one, she was legend. I knew she held the power I needed, the power I craved. But the cards they were misleading something was happening I could feel it hell I breathed it.

So I traveled here to find her. My weary feet traveled too many miles. Little I know that on this night I would meet him the day walker. I’d come to meet her to let her teach me all she knew to impart her gifts her power and then I’d avenge my people. Instead I was to meet him. I turned the card over … the card and I shivered.

The musk of my perfume hung heavy in the air. I knew he was somewhere close by.