Chapter 2

Chapter 2~ It has action which means it will be really rough to read :/

   Game Gateway is empty by the time it closes and Emily locks up. I'm honestly very doubtful that I can miss the conference for a party, but I approach her as she's stuffing the key chain back under her shirt.
   "Hey, Emily?"
   She turns and begins to walk by me, gesturing for me to follow. "Thanks for taking care of all those customers today. I don't know why I'm so cranky..."
   "Maybe a storm's coming," I suggest with a wry smile.
   "Maybe," she sighs, "Either way, you did good, kid."
   "Good enough to... maybe skip the conference tonight?"
   She blinks, surprised, but quickly composes herself. She leans her weight onto her right leg and puts her hands on her hips. "And what would you need to be doing instead of attending a very important meeting with the Kaen family-the founders of the company you work for?"
   We have the conferences every Saturday with only one member of the Kaen family, so I don't really know if I would call it important. Besides, she's wrong about the Kaen's.
   "The Kaen family didn't found it," I correct her, "Melinda Kaen is just the chairman."
   Emily looks at me silently for awhile before nodding. "You're right." And then, "Go do whatever. You won't be missed."
   I'm not sure if it's a reward for knowing the position of the Kaen family and I feel I should be insulted by that last comment, but I'm too distracted by my shock and a weird twinge of thankfulness.
   "Uh, alright... Thanks..." I murmur and head for the back door before she can change her mind.
   "They aren't all that important, really," she calls after me, and I smile as I close the door behind me.
   When I give the cab driver the address I want, I realize I have no idea where this party is. I decide with an inward groan that I'll just head to the diner and hope it's there or that someone will be there to tell me where it is.
   The street is dark when I hop out of the taxi, and when the car takes off with its headlights, it becomes considerably more creepy. Most of the places have closed for the night, but the diner's dim lights are still flickering which gives me a little hope.
   I pull a red ringlet behind my left ear and head down the sidewalk, hopping over the occasional crack in the cement. The usual whir of a car overhead isn't here, and I take comfort in the silence. It's not often I get peace like this, and I won't get it at the party.
   I peer curiously into the blackened shop I'm walking by, jumping a little when I catch my green eyes reflected on the window. Are they glowing? I shake my head, and that illusion disappears, but a sudden terror clutches at my stomach.
   "It's not the dream," I whisper to myself, "Nothing's wrong. Just a trick of the light." Or lack of it, my mind tells me as I turn to continue toward the diner.
   I don't make it far before I hear footsteps that aren't mine. I turn my head to glance down a small alley between stores and see a couple shadowy figures idling alone.
   Great, a couple of creeps just saw me have a spazz attack because of my own reflection. I'm sure that will spread before I can blink.
   I place my foot down from where it had been hovering in frozen fear, and over its echo down the thin passage, one of the figures calls out.
   "Hey there, girlie."
   I frown and stop again, turning to the pair. Except there's only one guy there. Shadows do weird things to the mind, so I guess it's only logical that my eyes would be tricked.
   "What do you want?" I sigh as the guy comes closer. I can make out a couple of his features now, and I think he can use a shave.
   "Not very nice, are we?" he calls out, though it's not necessary. It's so quiet I could probably hear a pin drop if someone decided to drop one in the middle of a grungy alley.
   "Sorry," I reply even though I'm no where near sorry, "but I'm already late for this party, so I don't have any time to talk or change to give you."
   "Aw, girlie, that hurts. I'm not a poor beggar. If we want something, we don't ask. We take."
   I roll my eyes, unimpressed, and move to turn, but a too-strong hand squeezes my arm, stopping me. I scowl back at a pale man with features like the gods religious people carve from stone.
   "Besides," he whispers against my ear, "We're all the party you need, love."
   His voice is too good, like a trickle of a soft stream I've only ever visited in my nightmares.
   Damn vampires.
   "Yeah, I've had better," I tell him with what I hope sounds like disinterest. The vampire twirls me with a force only a monster can have, and I slam against that window. Unfortunately, it does more damage to me than I do to it, and stars explode in front of my eyes.
   When I can see again, his face is right there, and the guy who was in the alley is standing a little behind him.
   "Oh?" the vampire breathes. He really needs a mint. "Somehow I can't imagine a little pretty like you ever meeting someone better than me."
   I raise my hands and shove him, but he just grabs my wrists and pins them to the thick glass.
   "Come now," he says, forehead wrinkling in mock concern, "Don't be like that. If it really bothers you, I won't be the one holding you tonight. All I want is a taste..." His head twists so that it's angled in such a way the he can fit it between my shoulder and head.
   "Hey, man. Don't kill her right away like the last one," the guy behind him growls, holding up a hand like he's going to pull him away. As I look, I don't think he's a vampire-just a regular mage.
   "Oh, calm yourself. I do have some self control." The vampire doesn't pull back when he speaks to him, and I try to yank a wrist free. I'd like nothing more than to break that pretty nose.
   As the nose in question brushes against my neck and inhales slowly-which is really creepy-I kick his knee with a lot of force, for me anyway.
   He laughs against my skin, as though I'm amusing him or something. Obviously, that didn't work.
   I scowl and continue my attempts at breaking free, wishing I knew a type of spell other than a shielding one. The vampire hesitates at my throat and pulls back to look me in the eyes, He really does think I'm funny.
   Man, I should start lifting weights.
   If I don't die.
   "Hey, hurry up!" the mage groans, dancing from foot to foot and looking around the street nervously, "I don't wanna get caught."
   "We won't be caught," the vampire sighs and abruptly smiles at me. Pointy teeth glint in the light from the diner, and within the next second, they're embedded in the side of my neck.
  Well, ow.
  The glass behind me cracks with no discernible reason, but I'm a little distracted to pay much attention to it.
   "Way to be gentle," I mutter, and the mage chuckles.
   "I like you, girlie. You got spunk," he says.
   "Yeah, I like 'er too." It's not the vampire, seeing as he's a little occupied with-oh, I forget... Wait-Oh yeah!  Eating me. Instead, a very tall and very wide guy knocks the mage over the head, and his form crumples to the ground.
   The vampire is trying to pull away to face the attacker, but it's just not happening. Self control... Yeah, sure.
   Ed knees the small of his back with enough force that I can feel it through him and drags him backwards by his shirt.
   The vampire makes a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan and spins, fist aimed at Ed's face. The big guy jumps backward with surprising speed and clasps his hands together, pointer fingers extended. He aims them at the monster.
  "Bang," he says.
   Orange flames explode from the blood-thirsty thing, and it howls in rage and maybe pain. Vampires feel pain, right? I sure hope so.
   The big lump of fire drops to the ground and starts rolling around like an idiot. I think he seriously believes he can put Ed's fire out like that.
   I move away from his writhing form as he bumps into the mage, who in turn goes up in flame.
   Ed heads in the same general direction and crosses over when we're far enough away that we won't get caught in the spell.
   "Just orange?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder with raised eyebrows.
   "I felt they didn' deserve anythin' dramatic," Ed replies, shrugging huge shoulders. It's no wonder he's so strong when he has to lift those things. I make an internal note to bet Zane tens bucks they weigh a ton each.
   "That makes sense," I tell him, grinning despite myself.
   We step along in the sudden silence except for the crackling of dying fire. No more screams.
   "Glad I was 'ate," Ed murmurs and pushes back my hair as we walk. Something tells me I should be more freaked out, but Ed's presence is enough to settle anyone's worries. He squints at the two little punctures I assume must be on my neck.
   "Is it bad?" I wonder, and he shakes his head.
   "No, actually. Jus' a simple spell should patch it 'ight up. No cost o' course."
   I feel bad immediately.
   "No, I can pay for it, Ed. I swear, I'm not poor or anything."
   He knows me well enough that he doesn't bother to argue the point, and he holds open the door for me as we climb the stairs in front of the diner.
   Zane is there and hooking his arm around mine before I can look around at the familiar booths and reserved party room in the back.
   "Good evening, milady," he greets and casts his eyes up at Ed, "Oh good, you came!" He makes a movement as though he's going to link elbows with the spell shop owner as well but thinks better of it.
   "I thought you guys weren't coming. You're both a good fifteen minutes late, and I thought I was going to be the lonely kid in the corner without any friends."
   I somehow doubt that even if neither of us had come he'd just sulk in a corner. I doubt it even more when he stops to talk to every single person he runs into. Every single person.
   "So, Zane, how's your studies going?"
   A dark-haired guy I've never seen in my life is asking. A blond is wrapped around his arm, her head leaning against his shoulder. She seems bored with everything.
   "Pretty good," Zane replies, shoving his free hand into his pocket.
   The guy seems un-phased by the general response; I actually think he was expecting it. "That's good." His gaze darts over to me, and he lets his mouth pull up on one corner. "And you must be the Colette I've heard so much about. I'm guessing you said yes?"
   I blink. "Said yes to what?"
   Zane coughs and releases my arm. "I haven't asked her yet," he groans, "You're ruining the surprise."
   I raise an eyebrow at him, and he turns to me, an apologetic look on his face.
   "Sorry he ruined it." He shoots a frustrated glare at the guy, who shrugs. "I know you like things dramatic-"
   "That's you, Zane."
   "-and you like romantic things-"
   "Are you sure you're not confusing me with yourself?"
   "-and I know you really hate it when plans are ruined... Destroyed, shattered-"
   "Zane."
   "-but I was wondering if you'd go out with me..."
   He suddenly has that sheepish look on his face that he gets when he thinks he's said something wrong. I open my mouth and close it, thinking of what to say.
   "I don't know, Zane," I finally sigh.
   "Why not?" he demands, frowning.
   "I live with you. When we break up, it will be-"
   "Easy solution is to, you know, not break up."
   "Zane."
   "I'll buy you chocolates on the way home."
   "You're trying to bribe me now?"
   "I wouldn't have to if you'd just agree."
   I roll my eyes, and he gives me an exasperated look.
   "At least think about it? It wouldn't be any different than now," he murmurs, brushing a hand through his blond hair.
    "I'll think about it," I agree, and he offers me a smile.
   The guy has on a faintly amused expression, like we're his personal cable. "That suck, man," he says with a face that plainly says he has never had trouble with getting someone he wants.
   I wander away, finally free from sitting through every conversation Zane decides to start up. And he starts up a lot.
   I push by random people I don't know, hand places to my sore neck absently.
   Ugh, why would he do that?
   I shake my head, releasing a long breath, and grab some pretzels from a table. I shove them into my mouth all at once and rub my hands on my jeans. After a moment of consideration, I swipe up another handful to take with me as I turn away and take a step...right into a giant.
   Alright, so he's not a giant. Those don't exist anymore. He just looks like someone grabbed his arms and someone else grabbed his legs and they both pulled until he was stretched so tall my neck would hurt just because I'm trying to see his face.
   I move my hand from where it's rubbing my throbbing wound back to where my neck suddenly pops. From what I can see of the guy's face, he's surprised-eyes comically wide, eyebrows up too high. He steps back a bit even though I kind of bumped off of him and am now a few steps away.
   "Oh-sorry," I cry, happy that the distance makes it easier to look at him.
   He shakes his head with a small smile. I bite my lip, waiting until it becomes awkward.
   "Well, uh..." I'm hating this. I already suck at the whole social interaction thing, and his lack of response isn't helping. "Do you work here?"
   He shakes his head.
   "Oh... Well... Hey, do you want some pretzels?" I hold out my hand, fingers still clenched around the funny-shaped snacks.
   He considers, looking at the hand with a calculating expression, but end up declining with a movement of his head. I shift my weight from foot to foot and begin to pull at a loose strand of hair.
   "Um, it was nice to... meet you," I say, beginning to turn.
   "Jace, stop scaring people," someone calls. I look around, trying to see who did it, but can't discern who did from a crowd of people I actually kind of know. They all work at the diner.
   The guy, Jace, casts a smile over to them and waves to me as he saunters off toward them. I watch him for a moment, relieved.
   I finish off the pretzels (that are all sweaty now) as I head to the front of the building. I slide into a booth and stare out the window, thinking things through. Not that I want to.
   Zane always does things without thinking about them. I shouldn't be surprised by his sudden question. Once, he brought home a girl he'd served  at the diner that night. Of course, I told her to go home. He tried to stay angry with me but failed as usual.
   Not that I don't care about him. I think it must be impossible not to. It's just-
   The alarms. Those are the alarms. A part of me is relieved. I don't have to think, and that's always welcome. Another part is freaking out. I don't know how to react to the warning of impending war at the diner-false alarm or not.
   I scoot across the booth and stand, hurrying to the back room where everyone else is. They're in chaos, people shouting for order while others yell words that don't exist. I bet half the people here have no idea what to do to avoid death-at least, not at a place they're rarely at.
   I begin to squeeze between people in the hopes of finding Zane or Ed, but it's like everyone is standing shoulder to shoulder in fear. Or like they decided to become a brick wall.
   Someone finally manages to pierce through the panicked noise. "Hey! Hey, listen to me! Everyone-Shut up!"
   The odd silence that follows allows the sound of the alarms to ring ominously through the place. I can hear whimpering from across the room.
   I still try to wind through people, and no one seems to notice. I'm far less important than the chance of dying.
   "A'right," the voice calls out, "Safety protocol here i'n't much different than anywhere else. First and fo'emost is to stay calm."
   I finally get by enough people to see that the one talking is Ed. A tightness in my chest I didn't realize was there dissipates. Of course he'd be the one to get everyone to listen enough to feel secure.
   "Now, everyone, listen to the manager, and she'll tell ya' what to do." He waves a huge hand to a woman with dark hair that's tied into a very neat bun.
   "Everyone," she says in a very light voice. Good thing Ed's here or she'd have never got everyone's attention. As she speaks, I make my way toward Ed. He catches sight of me and lets out a huge huff of air I assume is a sigh.
   "Now, I need you all to head-" The manager doesn't get far before a winder behind her explodes inward. Glass flies at everyone near it, taking out bun-lady, and the shrieking resumes.
   Ed easily shoves aside a couple sobbing girls and kneels next to the manager. The look on his face doesn't bode well of her physical state.
   The brick wall the was the crowd becomes an ocean, and it's pushing me back toward the entrance. I lean forward, throwing my arms at people to get them to move. I need to get to Ed. I need to help. I don't know how, but I need to.
   Ed stands, his face frighteningly angry, and I momentarily allow myself to be swept back. Not for long, though. The fact he looks like that...
   I throw myself against a guy in the hopes I can get by him. He actually swings a punch at me, and I duck just in time to keep my face intact. These people are crazy.
   I crawl forward, thinking that maybe I'll be able to get through that way. Someone stomps on my hand and I shift over to shake it in pain just in time to miss having my nose kicked in. Okay-crawling is a bad idea.
   I jump up and ram someone aside. My shoulder immediately aches. Ed is standing like a rock in the crowd of screaming idiots, frowning as he turns in circles. He sees something-or someone-and begins to hurry across the room-away from me.
   "D****t, Ed," I mutter still forcing my way toward where he was.
   And, when I thought maybe things were bad enough, the wall the busted window is set in decides to copy the window in question. The plaster turns to dust or something, and it blows at me along with wood chunks and a couple nails. I throw my hands over my face and drop to the floor, coughing around my sudden inability to breathe. I obviously haven't watched enough movies. Never say, "Things can't get worse." Don't even think it. Ever. Maybe say, "Things can't get any better." I wonder if that actually works...
   I lift my head and stare through bleary eyes at a line of people in fancy, military suits. They're all carrying big guns. Awesome.
   Those who were shoved to the ground around me begin to pick themselves up and run. I hurry up too so I don't get trampled-I learned from the whole crawling thing-and begin to search frantically for Ed, for safety. I don't find either.
   "Stand still and put your hands on your heads!" The voice is booming; it shakes what remains of the diner, and a corner of the ceiling rains down. I can only assume someone is amplifying their voice with a fancy spell. Too bad it's a waste.
   No one is bothering to obey. Sit around, and they'll either kill you or make sure you never see sunlight again. I decide to push and shove my way to the entrance with everyone else. I'm sure Ed and Zane will do the same, and we'll all be fine...
   In response to our disobedience, the soldiers begin to march in under some unspoken command. Those unfortunate enough to be at the back of the crowd are grabbed, examined, and either slaughtered or tied up and hauled out into the night.
   I'm not sure what makes the difference between being allowed to breathe or not, and I don't want to find out, really. All I want is to get out. I don't want those gloved hands wrapped around my arms, I don't want to be shot by shiny weapons until I'm unrecognizable, and I really don't want to rot in a cell as a hostage.
   I can feel panic trying to claw up my throat, and my chest is heaving against a heartbeat that's way too fast. This is bad. Oh, this is bad.
   I can see through the tiny gaps in the crowd the front door. It's been slammed open so many times it's just hanging there on its hinges. Almost there.
   I cast a glance over my shoulder at the soldiers as they run out of ammo and pull out huge swords. I don't understand how they can even lift those things. Unless they're like Ed and have some kind of unnatural strength...
   The thought of Ed makes my stomach flip. I can't see him anywhere, and he's not exactly hard to miss. If he didn't make it out, I don't know what I'll do.
   If I thought my stomach felt bad a second ago, I don't know what to think about it now. Those swords-with their thick and still somehow pointy steel blades-don't just rip through their victims, they slice them apart like carrots. As I watch, someone collapses limply, and I don't think they have a head.
   I tun as my hand brushes the trim of the small doorway that leads out to the main section of the diner. I'll be safe soon. I'm only a few steps away.
   And then I see him. There's no mistaking his jade-coloured eyes, even as they're as wide as the gaping hole in the building. His suit is torn, and the hair I told him was messy before has no order at all anymore. Worse yet, he's not getting out.
   They have him, hands wrapped around his chest and arms-one over his mouth as though his screams would make a difference with everyone else's-and they're dragging him back. He's struggling, yanking, kicking, thrashing, but he's no match for trained killers.
   The two who are taking him stop long enough for a third to look him up and down. He nods at the first pair, and they pull him out toward the darkness outside.
   I stand there, and a crying woman shoves me aside to get through the doorway. I don't fight to get back into the crowd swarming through it after her; I just stare as he gets closer and closer to being too far away.
   I don't realize I'm moving until I'm again pushing through alarmed people. It's easier now. Most everyone has either escaped or...not. My legs feel numb as I try to run, sprint, to him. He sees me within the next moment, and his thrashing becomes worse.
   "Zane!" I scream, really using my voice for the first time since the alarms. The panic that's been waiting at the base of my throat is pleased to be allowed to escape.
   The soldiers follow his gaze and spot me. One yells something I can't make out at someone near him, and suddenly a hoard of soldiers is approaching me. I don't stop running except for the odd person who is still trying to get a chance at escaping running into me. I'm an idiot.
   "Zane!" I shout again and clench my teeth. I meet his worried, horror-filled gaze for just a moment, long enough to recognize the wish that I'd run the other way in them, before they smack him across the head with an empty gun. He goes limp in their arms and disappears into the shadows on the other side of the huge hole.
   I try to speed up, somehow reach him before the soldiers reach me-no matter how impossible that is. My foot catches on something, and I tumble forward, catching myself on my hands. My palms immediately begin to sting and blood oozes from them.
   I push up onto all fours and turn to look at the obstacle I feel over. It's someone I don't know-a dead someone. A sort of weird, alien pleasure fills me, but I'm too distracted by the soldiers who are close enough that I can hear their laughter to worry about it.
   Someone keeps chuckling, and the sound makes the air go cold. Whoever did this, that's them, laughing. They think this is funny.
   I take in a sharp inhale, and it feels like the air is ripping apart my throat. Not now. I can't think about it now. Not when those people with huge swords are coming toward me, slowly like I couldn't run fast enough even if I tried.
   I begin to climb to my feet again, and the side of my hand brushes against the corpse I tripped over. Something inside me seems to whisper to it, like it's a long-lost friend, and that's plain creepy.
   I'm happy. It's dead and torn up, and I'm happy. I reach its face and pet it, my fingers trailing along the lines of blood on its cheek.
   I gasp. I can't help it. I wrench my hand back, away from that thing's face, in disgust. Except it's not a thing, it's a person. A dead, shot-up person-but a person.
   One of the soldiers grabs my shoulder, fingers digging into the space under my bone. A weird sound comes from my mouth, and I frown upon it on the inside.
   "Found her," the soldier cried triumphantly, shaking me around. As he does, it's like the fear, the horror, the everything bad drains out and in its place, something simultaneously worse and amazing fills in. I feel... fearless. I feel invincible and powerful and incredible.
   One of my own hands reaches up to where his is still gripping and presses it. At my touch, he rips it back, crying out and groaning as if he's dying.
   I don't know how, but I'm suddenly over him and staring down into his eyes. I want to see the fear I saw in Zane's in them, but not in a revengeful way. I just want it-plain and simple.
   Somehow, someway-I won't question it right now-there's weapon in my hand. It's not as big as his, which is now laying a few feet away from him, but it's sharp and looks deadly. I like it.
   I feel what I think may be a smile tug at my lips and I pull back far enough that the thin, fine blade can fit between me and his heaving chest.
   I stare down at him, waiting for the fear I so want from him, but it doesn't come. I scowl.
   "Looks like we weren't fast enough," the soldier gets out, glaring at me.
   A sort of prideful annoyance joins the invincibility I feel, and I don't hesitate to slam the sword down into his heart. I should be horrified, maybe saying something along the lines of, "What have I done?" But I'm not.
   I watch his eyes with a horrible hope that him meeting the end of his life will bring fright into them... but he dies with that defiant glare. And his death increases that powerful feeling inside me.
   I lean over the bloodied thing and stare down into its dead gaze. A person is reflected there, a girl with eyes glowing a crazy, pupil-less green, and a crooked green that opens to laugh.
   And suddenly, I'm lost-trapped with that vision, trapped with the nightmare.

Author's Note

So long...