《Glass Pomegranate: Vol I》


 Prologue

    The Academy lay in ruins. The decaying brick and concrete corpse had been reclaimed by the climbing vines dragging it to earth, taking the stones and minerals into the soil once again. The spires that once towered for over two-hundred years were reduced to rubble in a matter of ten. The expansive grounds grew up to knee deep grass. Yellow rod and Queen Anne''s lace sprawled out fighting each other for space amongst the weeds.


    Only the headmaster''s mansion remained. After the war, Ivy reclaimed it for herself. Not in triumph, but to remember. She and her loyal Watchers rebuilt it, healing the building''s post-war wounds until it was habitable again. Then they crafted a new Academy beside the freshly dead body of the one she ripped down. This time would be better. This time, it would be a place for mutant children to learn and embrace their abilities, not a prison for them to be experimented on and exploited.


    Despite the eye-sore, the tragedy, the thousands of reasons to be rid of the ruins forever - Ivy kept them. Each day, mutant children cheerfully walked past what was once Ivy''s prison turned battle grounds - now turned crumbling husk - on their way to classes and a brighter future. It was not at the forefront, but it was there in the corner of everyone''s eye, a slight cringe or shiver up their spine at the horrid fate that Ivy had liberated them from. The lab in the basement had long since been sealed shut by the boulders and chunks of rubble.


    ''This is what humans can do''was the death cry of the ruins, but Ivy knew better. When she stood on her balcony over looking the lake and the endless forest, drinking her morning tea, she heard ''This is whatIcan do.''


    She knew the others heard it too and was pleased.


    She placed her cup of tea on the side table. Beverages, along with food were no longer necessary, but simple pleasures were all she had. Ivy''s slender fingers curving around the handle hardly held their shape and form, becoming transparent, shimmering under the early afternoon sun. A blue haze enveloped her body, including the all black Watcher''s garb and cloak she still wore.


    A knock came at the door.


    "Come in," she called. Even the sound of her voice was faint to her ears, yet carried like a specter on the wind.


    The French doors opened.


    Ivy tensed, reactively pushing herself further against the chair. Cold iron dug into her spine. She was still corporeal. That was something at least.


    Watcher Dominic joined her on the balcony. His black eyes squinted to see her fading form better in the light. Long silver hair cascaded to his waist, striking against his black Watcher''s attire. A hooded cloak wrapped over his shoulders and drifted across the stone floor, swishing around his boots as he moved.


    The energy emanating from him wafted toward her. She sensed each beat of his heart as it pumped life through his veins. Each cell''s vibration created a kinetic heat. It pulled her forward. Magnetic. It reminded her of starvation.


    "Stop," Ivy said, holding up a finger. "No closer."


    "We found him," said Dominic, then dropped his eyes to the floor. "However, he already made it back to Portsmouth Island."


    She clenched her jaw.


    "How was that allowed to happen?" she asked through gritted teeth. "It''s nearly impossible to retrieve them once they hide there."


    "He''ll be too afraid of retribution to ever leave again, and if he does, perhaps then we can seek justice?" Dominic suggested.


    Ivy''s silver eyes sharpened.


    "It can''t wait!" she snapped.


    "I see that you''re fading -"


    "Peace between us and humans is tenuous at best," she said. "If I allow mutants to cause havoc the already thin tethers are bound to snap. Do you want another war Dominic? Isn''t the last one still fresh in your mind?"


    "I''ll send the Watchers straight away."


    "Thank you. Next time save yourself the trouble and do as I ask."


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    Dominic nodded. In the span of a second, he dissolved into a swirling black cloud of mist. No longer able to sense his energy, Ivy sagged in relief.


    She collected herself and headed inside to find Watcher Lily. The mansion had been redecorated, stripped of its former opulence. Crystal chandeliers were replaced with simple over headlights, the gold trimmed panels stripped down to the original brick work and the marble floors removed to reveal the hardwood beneath.


    Ivy stepped into the hall. Her long black cloak trailed behind her as she marched toward the grand staircase. Beneath the bright lights, her flesh faded further.


    "Miss Ivy!"


    Ivy flinched before descending the stairs to see Meredith bouncing down the hall from her own room. Her dark ringlets springing around her shoulders with each step. Even at the age of ten, Ivy could hide nothing from her young apprentice.


    "Stay where you are sweet child," said Ivy.


    Meredith stopped in her tracks and her brown eyes widened, taking in Ivy''s shifting state for the first time.


    "Are you becoming a ghost?" she gasped.


    "No, no," said Ivy softly. "When I get back I''ll be better, just like last time. You''ll see."


    Before Meredith could argue further, Ivy rushed down the stairs. Watcher Lily greeted her in the foyer. The older woman held herself straight and stern. Not a hair in her greying bun out of place. Without a word, Lily extended her hand, pinching her index finger to her thumb. Drawing her hand downward, she unzipped the air. A swirling purple and black portal emerged.


    Ivy stepped toward it, feeling its pull the closer she got. Once inside, it was as simple as going through a door. In the span of a blink she found herself on the island shore. The ocean rolled at her back. Heavy storm clouds drifted overhead as seagulls screeched from the sky.


    The island was home to a small village. After the war, any mutants unwilling to live amongst humans on the mainland sequestered themselves here. Which was why she needed to be quick.


    She wandered the dirt roads between the small wooden houses. Former abandoned shacks were transformed into habitable cabins and homes. Most lawns were overgrown with weeds as high as her thighs. Each block of houses was punctuated by a community garden or small shop. Though it was the middle of the afternoon, there weren''t any outward signs of life, but she felt them. Heat radiated toward her. She could count the occupants inside every home.


    Ultimately, it was the commotion that led her to the man she was looking for. A crowd had gathered outside of a crumbling brown shack. Quiet settled over the group the moment Ivy was spotted. All eyes turned to her. Searing waves tasting of warm copper wafted toward her. Rage - like fresh blood in her mouth. In her current state, it took far more of her concentration than was comfortable not to pull it in and bask in it. There was a time she would have been hurt. Their eyes used to wound her. So she shut herself away. A job needed to be done. There was no space for remorse.


    "Bring him out," she commanded.


    The crowd stood still.


    "Don''t make this harder than it has to be." She took a step forward. The crowd tightened, sealing the pathway to the house. "This won''t end well for you."


    "This isn''t your island!" A man yelled. "Go back to the mainland. We''ll handle our own people, and you take care of yours." He stepped forward, fists clenched to his side. Electricity crackled around his knuckles, bristling the coarse black hair along his forearms.


    "Julian, please. We don''t need to make a scene," she said. "This must be done. I can''t allow unsanctioned fight clubs on the mainland. What would happen if I became lenient? More would crop up, then come running to the island when they get caught. No exceptions. Step aside."


    "Tyrannical bitch!" A woman screamed. The crowd dispersed as rocks rose from the earth, quivering and hovering in the air.


    All at once, the stones shot toward Ivy. She raised her hand. A translucent blue shield emerged. The rocks struck it and tumbled harmless to the ground.


    A hush settled over the crowd. Ivy tasted the ice cold mint of fear. The woman''s feral scream as she began to levitate the rocks again could not disguise her true emotion. She gasped, suddenly strangled for air. The stones quivered and settled on the earth. Blue light emitted from the woman''s open mouth in a long thick wisp like a gossamer curtain, drifting toward Ivy.


    The woman crumpled to her knees.


    "Ivy please!" Julian cried. "Let her go, she didn''t mean it."


    The woman''s life force had only just begun to intertwine with Ivy''s own, soaking into her barely corporal form. For a moment, she was almost sorry. It was a shame to snuff out such a warm, firm energy. So much life. So much vitality. Her flesh shifted solid again.


    "Ivy! Please!"


    Julian''s desperation pulled Ivy into lucidity for a moment. He was now crouched beside the woman''s still body. The others gathered around them, staring at her with wide, terrorized eyes. Ivy''s heart wrenched. She released her hold and reversed the process. The curtain of light seeped from herself, trailing backward, reentering the limp woman. Ivy watched herself fade. The woman gasped, her chest heaving in bursts.


    Ivy stepped forward and this time, the crowd parted to allow her passage toward the house. The squat shack seemed to sag into the earth, drooping into the weeds. Their judging eyes pressed on her back. She steeled herself. The energy emanating off the crowd was a miasma of terror and rage. She could hardly blame them.


    Ivy climbed the stairs to the front deck. The rotten wood sagged under her weight. When she opened the door, she found the house in darkness. The man sat slouched on the sofa, his head in his hands. Soft sobs reverberated through the room.


    "I promise never to do it again," he whimpered. "Hell, I''ll never go back to the mainland at all. You''ll never -"


    The words choked out. His mouth opened, as though he gasped for air. Blue light poured from him in a thick wave. The bitter ash - the flavor of desperation. She tasted it all. It was stale and brought her no pleasure. When the man crumpled, folding forward into an empty husk, she returned to her solid form.

 Chapter One: Something To consider

    The blood crusted to the front of Angelus'' white t-shirt and the zinging pain throbbing in his nose told him all he needed to know about last night. The memories were hazy if they even existed at all. He tried to piece things together.


    The living room was in shambles. Beer cans, some empty and others half-full and pouring their contents out onto the carpet, were strewn about the floor¡ªthe stale air stank of old cigarettes and weed smoke.


    Angelus sat on the edge of the threadbare sofa, his head tucked between his knees, trying not to throw up. A migraine throbbed through the cotton in his head.


    "Who won?" he asked.


    "Certainly not you," said Alistair with a laugh. The other man was still reclined in the armchair he had fallen asleep in last night. A scraggly wool blanket barely covered his lap. His long legs propped up on the coffee table. "Timmy decked you pretty hard."


    "Did I deserve it?"


    "I suppose that''s subjective." Alistair rubbed his emerald eyes and tossed the thin throw blanket at Angel who merely groaned when the fabric hit him.


    "What did I do?" He forced himself to sit up and pushed his long black hair out of his face.


    "You wanted to fight," said Alistair, shrugging. "Timmy was the only one to take you up on it."


    "Nyx is gonna kill me," Angel groaned.


    "Forget Nyx, isn''t your dad supposed to be coming over today?"


    "Shit! What time is it?" Angel gasped.


    Alistair looked at his empty wrist. "Time to get a watch." He stood up and stretched, exaggerated and cat-like. "Well, I think I better mosey on out. It was nice knowing you."


    "Where do you think you''re going?"


    "Home. I have to get a head start on your eulogy."


    "Stop fooling around. Help me clean this place up."


    "Whoa, why should I?"


    "You helped me make this mess." Angel peeled himself off the couch. The room swirled for a minute before he regained his equilibrium. "C''mon."


    Angel dragged his exhausted body into the kitchen with Alistair trailing behind him. It hadn''t seemed that messy last night but now, the sink was full of filthy dishes. Pizza boxes sagging from grease and stuffed with old crusts were stacked on the island, buried beneath solo cups and half finished pints. An overturned bong on the table poured stagnant water across the surface. He rummaged under the cabinet for a garbage bag.


    Alistair helped him clean, shoving garbage into the bag while Angel scrubbed at the counters. The dim light from the kitchen window played off of Alistair''s sandy blond hair and made his earrings sparkle.


    "I may as well crawl into that bag," said Angel.


    "You''re such a drama Queen, Grub," Alistair laughed. "It won''t be so bad."


    "Julian is gonna kill me,  then Nyx will pick my bones clean after he''s done," Angel grumbled. For a gut-dropping second, panic seized him. "What else did I get up to?"


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    "Nothing, that''s all there is to report."


    "Thank fuck," Angel sighed. "She''d never forgive me. Not after last time." He dug into the stubborn stain harder.


    "Maybe you should take a little break? Have a quiet night in?" Alistair suggested. "We haven''t played video games in awhile."


    "Yeah, you''re right," Angel sighed. "Maybe that''s what we''ll do next weekend."


    Alistair tied up the garbage bag and set it beside the back door.


    "Just something to consider."


    It took the two boys the remainder of the afternoon to get the house looking presentable again. Angel admired the freshly clean living room. It almost looked better than before he destroyed it. The mottled brown carpet would never be beautiful but at least the dark patches did a good job of hiding stains. There was no salvaging the lumpy sofa and armchair after years of abuse but at least he managed to clear up the crumbs and straighten up the coffee table.


    As much as he enjoyed creating chaos, his heightened senses could not tolerate the aftermath for long. The curse of his keen vision allowed him to become overwhelmed by clutter. The scent of rotten food could haunt him for days.


    After Alistair left for home, Angel showered and went to his bedroom to change. The room was hardly large enough to contain his double-bed even minus the bedframe. The narrow dresser squashed against the opposite wall. Polaroids clipped to a string spanned the length of the wall depicting photos of himself with Alistair or Nyx and sometimes both. Their sister Cassie was never in them, usually preferring to stick behind the camera, often sneaking up on them for less than flattering candid shots. As much as he''d protest in the moment, he kept them all.


    Before pulling on a fresh set of clothes, Angel checked himself for bruises, but it seemed the pop to the nose was all the damage he''d sustained. The spattering of scars from scrapes long past were reminders he''d had much worse. At first glance, the two longest markings on his back appeared to be still healing wounds where the skin came together only to barely touch at the edges. The thin slits extended from the top of his shoulders to just under the point of his shoulder blade. Hidden wings twitched, rippling his tan skin from below the surface like trapped animals.


    He tugged on a clean shirt and jeans in time to hear the front door open and slam close again.


    "Hey Grub! Where are ya?" Julian called from the living-room. "I got some fish and chips."


    By the time Angel ran downstairs, his father was already unpacking the food from the grease stained paper bag, arranging the Styrofoam containers on the small dining table. The smell made Angel''s mouth water and he realized he hadn''t eaten since supper the night before.


    Julian was shorter than Angel, but broader, more sturdy. His wavy dark hair was kept neat and tidy around his ears. Amber eyes evaluated Angel from beneath scraggly black brows, already scowling.


    "You have a good birthday party?" Julian asked, plunking down in one of the chairs.


    Angel joined him at the table, opening up his own container of food. The beer battered Haddock pulled apart easily with the poke of his fork.


    "I heard you had a lot of fun," said Julian.


    "Already?" Angel couldn''t look up and ate his food more as a distraction than hunger.


    "It''s not a big island. Timmy was bragging about it the minute he started his shift at the market."


    Angel''s eyes widened. "So Nyx knows?"


    "You bet." Julian took a bite of one of his fries. "When do you think you''re going to settle down? She''s a good girl you know. She''s put up with your shit long enough."


    "Hey, whose side are you on?"


    "I''m on yours, believe it or not." Julian leaned back in his chair. "Why is it always so dark in here?" He snapped his fingers and the lights flicked on. "I worked hard setting the electricity up in this place, you might as well use it instead of living like some kind of goblin."


    "It''s too bright," Angel muttered, poking at his fish.


    "I''m serious Angel," said Julian. "You gotta get your shit together. You can''t keep getting in fights. You''re gonna get killed one of these days. There''s a ton of jobs on the mainland you could go do instead."


    "And be under Ivy''s thumb? I don''t think so. I have a job here thank you very much."


    "You drink every penny you get. It''s time to be responsible. If your mother could see you now -"


    "Well, she can''t," Angel snapped. He tightened his grip on his fork.


    Julian narrowed his eyes. Electricity crackled in his aura. "Thank fuck for small favors. She''d be so disappointed."


    "How would I know? You won''t tell me anything about her. We could have so many things in common. We would have got along great, and you''d be the disappointment. Ever think of that?"


    "You''re too much like her, and that''s exactly your problem. There''s just no talking to you." Julian groaned in exasperation and got up. "Look, I gotta go to work." He walked toward the back door, nudging the tied garbage bag out of the way with the toe of his boot. "Happy birthday Kid." He slammed the door shut behind himself.

 Chapter Two: Never Better

    The knock at the door drowned under the pounding of the drum set. Sweat formed on Nyx''s brow and the nape of her neck as her arms moved in the familiar rhythm, clearing her mind. She worked through the song, quick and loud, until her arms hurt, only stopping when the door to the shed opened.


    The dim light of evening briefly illuminated the shed as Angel stepped inside. He carried his guitar case, a sheepish grin on his face. Nyx slid off the stool and tucked her drumsticks in the back pocket of her jeans.


    "You''re not mad at me are you?" he asked.


    "I was," she said, "but I''m not anymore. Not really."


    He quirked an eyebrow.


    "I just wish you''d cool it." Nyx stepped around the drum kit to sit at the wooden table.


    Nyx and her siblings, along with Angel, had turned the empty shed in her parent''s yard into their club house. They had used it as a not-so-secret lair ever since. The single bare light bulb dangled over head and the remnants of sunlight struggled to make its way through the grime coating the windows. One of them had stapled pillowcases over the windows for extra privacy.


    They had furnished the small space with a collection of questionably acquired lawn chairs around a wobbly round table. An ancient mattress lay in the back corner with a single pillow and a blanket tossed on top. Before Angel got his own cabin, he had avoided going home on many occasions by sleeping off his drinks here. A narrow bookshelf made of stacked cinderblocks and wood planks rested against the side wall. It was stuffed with crusty paperbacks, board games with missing pieces, comics and magazines.


    Angel propped the guitar case against the wall. He joined her at the table, then fished a joint out of his pocket. His bright blue eyes narrowed a moment to focus as he lit it. Then they landed on the green flannel shirt draped lazily over her elbows.


    "So that''s where that went," he said.


    "Hands off Grub," she said and whisked the cloth away from him. "It was mine in the first place. I simply stole it back."


    "Whatever, we''ll share."


    "Easy for you to say. It''s not yours." She playfully snatched the joint from him and took a long drag. "I''m sorry I missed your birthday."


    "You gotta work," he said, but she heard the twinge of sadness in his voice. A pang of guilt twisted in her guts.


    "We can go out later if you want to? Maybe tomorrow night?"


    He perked. "You haven''t been out with us in a while."


    "Someone has to keep an eye on you, and clearly Alistair isn''t capable of keeping you out of trouble. Why did Timmy punch you anyway? What the hell did you say?"


    "No idea." He shrugged and for a split second, his eyes danced away. "If you''re gonna come out, promise you''ll be chill?"


    "Only if you promise not to be a shit," she said.


    "Then we have a deal?"


    "You have my word."


    Angel went to peck her on the cheek but she swerved to dodge it.


    "The minute I wanna go home, I''m going home," she said.


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    "Ok, got it," he said and this time she let him kiss her.


    Butterflies danced in her stomach. They had known each other since a time before memory. The warmth of his easy smile was as familiar to her as turning toward the afternoon sun.


    When they finished their cigarette, Nyx took up the drums again and Angel followed her lead, getting the guitar from its case and hooking it up to the amp. They''d never officially come together as a band or even tried to play on stage anywhere. It was just something they always did together. Some nights, they hardly talked at all.


    Sometimes, if he were in the right mood, Angel would sing. It was if a crow became a songbird, and Nyx wished she could bottle the sound.


    Tonight was not such a night.


    They finished playing and Angel packed up to leave.


    "You coming over?" he asked, hand on the door knob. "I''ll fly ya."


    "Not tonight," she said. "I work in the morning."


    "So do I? What''s it matter?"


    "All my stuff is here."


    "Just leave early and come back here before you go," he said.


    "Can we talk? Just for a second?" she asked and hated how hot her cheeks became.


    "Uh, sure," he said, putting his guitar case down.


    Nyx sat at the table. She nibbled her lip, uncertain how to begin, so she may as well come right out with it. "I''ve been thinking... wouldn''t it be easier if I moved in with you?"


    "I - uh -" Angelus scratched the back of his head. His eyes flitted around the room, looking anywhere but at her. "That''s not a great idea."


    "Why not?" She had expected some resistance, but it still stung. "There''s no sense in me taking up a whole other cabin from someone else when we spend all our time together anyway."


    "You''d hate living with me," he said finally, and seemed self-satisfied with the answer. "You like your space."


    Nyx scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Like I have so much space living here with Mom and Dad. At least Alistair gets his own room. I gotta share one with Cass."


    "You have this shed," said Angel. As if that were something.


    "Oh wow, a shed. Amazing." She plucked a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it, hoping to appear casual, but her hands were shaking. There''s no way he couldn''t see it, or hear her heart thundering in her chest. At least she could hide her tears from him, resisting the burning sting at the rim of her eyes.


    Angelus sighed, shoulders sagging, and he slumped into the chair across from her. He reached for her free hand, but she snatched it away.


    "C''mon," he pleaded. "Don''t be like that. Can''t I think on it a bit?"


    "How much longer do you need?"


    "I dunno," he said. "Let it sink in a bit."


    Nyx drummed her fingers on the table, exhaling a cloud of thick smoke.


    It shouldn''t be this hard for him to decide. Hasn''t it been on his mind all this while?


    When Angel first moved out on his own, Nyx had hoped he''d ask then, but they were both so young. He had just turned nineteen then, so it was understandable why they should wait. That was three years ago now, and her patience was wearing thin.


    She nodded, but wouldn''t look at him. "Fine."


    He smiled and took her hand. This time, she didn''t pull away and he gently kissed her knuckles and then her palm. "I''ll stay here tonight."


    "No, I''ll go with you." Nyx crushed her cigarette out into the ashtray and got up. She pulled the flannel up over her shoulders. Though it was still summer, it was bound to be colder in the air.


    They stepped into the balmy night. The sun had gone down, leaving only the sparse streetlights to illuminate the close knit neighborhood. Wind rippled the tall grass and wild flowers in the overgrown lawn. Moths gathered around the porch light of her parent''s cabin. Only the kitchen light was on inside the squat grey house. Her mother and father would be playing cards at the table with the radio on.


    Angel left the guitar behind in the shed. He pulled off his shirt and flexed his shoulders. The skin near his spine rippled and split. Coal black wings emerged from the slits near his spine. Fully spread, they were twice as long as he was tall. They drew back, the air whooshing in response. The tips of his feathers trailed across the ground as he walked toward her.


    "Ready?" he asked, extending a hand.


    Nyx took it and he pulled her close. Even that was breathtaking and they weren''t even in the air yet. Angel scooped her up in a single motion. Nyx rested her arm around his shoulders to keep steady. He jumped, and flapped his wings, shifting the air around them and was airbourne. Her stomach always seemed to remain a few seconds behind the rest of her.


    It was exhilarating to fly with him, soaring above the village. The already small houses faded. Nyx studied his face; the serious squint of his indigo eyes as he focused, the angles of his delicate bone structure and the gentle curve of his lips pulled down in concentration - so used to smiling, it was striking to see him so intent.


    He took his eyes off the horizon, only for a moment to look at her instead.


    "You good?"


    She rested her head against his chest. "Never better."

 Chapter Three: One Of Those Days

    Kismet clamped her noise-cancelling headphones tight over her ears and cranked the volume on her CD player up as loud as it would go. Death metal blared, screaming vocals and shredding guitars, but not nearly loud enough to shut out the voices. Not today anyway. She crowded onto the subway, shoulder to shoulder with her fellow Happsburg citizens.


    The metal pole was slick under her sweaty palms. She clung to it. Not just to keep from wobbling as the subway train rattled down the track, but more as a tether.


    Every brush against a person sent their thoughts screeching into her head - all their desires, secrets, and fears. When Kismet braved opening her eyes, neon-bright colours swirled around the train car in ribbons emanating off the other passengers, signaling an emotion or state of mind. Pastel trails whispered of commuters long since gone. The ribbons spiraled upwards, conjoining in a swirling aurora at the ceiling. The mass of colours boiled and rolled like a whirlpool.


    Over the years she had come to identify the meanings of each, and even some combinations based on trial and error and the sensations that would overcome her when enveloped in them. Kismet''s breath came in short, rapid bursts. She counted the people, the lights, the seats - blinking until the colours flickered and faded. The music pulled her in and she tried to focus on the words instead. If she couldn''t stay present and grounded, at least she could be lost in her own mind instead of someone else''s''.


    When the train reached Kismet''s stop, she got off, following the flow of the crowd, moving on autopilot. Almost nothing of the real world was comprehensible to her anymore. One foot landed in front of the other. At least her body was reliable. It could find the way home even when her mind might be elsewhere. Though sometimes it made some mistakes. Snapping in and out of reality, she was able to guide herself along once she made note of any landmarks to regain her bearings.


    The messy graffiti on the subway station walls faded behind the glittering hues shading the full spectrum of human emotion.


    Almost there.


    Kismet trekked along, weaving around people on the sidewalk, careful not to let them touch her.


    A torn poster advertising The Academy was tacked to one of the brick walls promising a haven for mutants. She had heard stories of Ivy - the headmaster was like some sort of vampire, sucking the life-force from any and all that dared to oppose her.


    The other children in Kismet''s group homes, and even some of the adults told boogey-man stories of Ivy; if you didn''t eat your peas, if you didn''t go to bed on time, or forgot your mittens at school - Ivy would come and suck you dry.


    Though Kismet had also heard of the headmaster''s immeasurable healing abilities. Perhaps even more than her wrath, Ivy''s mercy was renowned. Even now, after the war, she healed all who asked. She traveled all of Gleodem and the rest of the world to tend to as many people as she could.


    Some people, mutant and human alike, had even deified her.


    Maybe The Academy wouldn''t be so bad? Who would I even talk to? How can I approach a living-Goddess? Would she smite me?


    Kismet wished she knew another mutant, someone who could tell her how to navigate that world. She didn''t dare reveal herself to any humans in order to ask.


    The commute from her job at the bookstore to home was not long, but it wiped her out even still. Kismet chewed the soggy and torn ends of her sweater cuffs as she reached her apartment building. It was a former warehouse, shaped like a plain brick square. The windows on the upper floors housing the apartments were small and narrow. The art gallery on the bottom floor had windows that spanned floor to ceiling, granting a glimpse of the rotating exhibits within.


    Sometimes when Kismet was in a better mood, she liked to go and see what was on display. The best pieces hummed with lingering intent and passion with subtle notes of brewing emotions; anything from betrayal to lust. It formed an energetic fingerprint; something left behind by the creator that was unique to each piece.


    In this state of mind, it was best to avoid it all together and dash directly to the loft. All she wanted was to hole up in bed under the covers until she could muster up the strength to think straight again. These severe episodes usually passed once she rested or ate, preferably both. Kismet twisted a strand of curly brown hair with her right index finger and nibbled on her left sleeve. She trudged up the iron staircase.


    The hallway stank of stale cat pee. One of her neighbors, Miss. Pelly, had twenty kitties inside just one apartment. They helped with the mice, so that was nice at least. The kindly older woman tried to help them, but had become overwhelmed. Litter boxes over flowed and she poured kibble on the floor in a pile. Every stray in the art district slipped in and out of her window near the fire escape. None of her cats were neutered. They were an excuse to never leave the apartment.


    The neighbor at the other end of the hall, Mr. Lyle, collected slugs for no reason other than to have them. He let them crawl on the walls, watching them for hours. Sometimes he built salt mazes on the living room floor.


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    She knew far too much about people she had never met. Their sadness, their loneliness, their lost hopes and dreams drifted behind her mind''s eye. Their pain often became hers. Untangling herself from them all was near impossible. Kismet likened herself to a sticky fly trap. By the end of the day she was full. Sometimes even her dreams were not her own.


    Kismet twisted the heavy iron knob to her apartment, glad it was unlocked so she didn''t have to fumble with the keys. She clicked off her CD player and rested her headphones behind her head.


    The pendulum lights were on, illuminating the industrial style space. The black metal contrasted against the russet masonry. Fully open concept, even their bedroom was in the same room, separated from the living-room side by a long partition.


    There was nowhere to hide.


    "You''re home," Kevin said from the sofa. His voice was flat. It was less of an exclamation of excitement, and more a statement of fact.


    "I''m going to bed," she said, hurrying to cross the room.


    "It''s only six o''clock. You haven''t even cooked dinner yet," he said and looked around at her. His brown eyes were sharp, speaking over his otherwise soft tone. "Stay up a little while longer? I haven''t seen you all day."


    "I shouldn''t. My head is - I''m having one of those days," she said, in a light, airy way, almost laughing at herself. She couldn''t believe she was being so ridiculous. This was utterly embarrassing. The alternative was to completely fall apart...


    But he wants me. He actually asked for once.


    "Maybe watching a show or something will help. I''ll stay up for an episode."


    "There," he said with a grin. The smile softened the sharp edges of his face.


    Kevin sat up and scooched over to make room for her, but she sat at the other end of the sofa. She pulled her legs up and scrunched.


    "Ok, pick something," Kismet said. It needed to be quick. She didn''t want to scroll through selections forever.


    He groaned in exasperation. "Why do you have to be like this?"


    She blinked, surprised. Satin curtains of mud-purple disdain wafted from his body. It drifted toward the ceiling like fading smoke.


    "Well!" he snapped. "Don''t just stare at me. I hate when you look at me like that."


    "Like what?" Genuinely confused, she looked away, unsure of what to do with her face or her body anymore.


    How can I arrange myself to make it better? To disappear?


    "Maybe I should go to bed if I''m bothering you."


    "No, I want you to stay. We never spend any time together," he grumbled and moved closer. Though they didn''t physically touch, the pressure of his presence pushed in. Even seated, he loomed over her.


    Reflexively, Kismet leaned closer to the arm of the sofa.


    "See, this is exactly what I''m talking about," he exclaimed in frustration. Red fireworks sparked through his churning purple aura. "Can''t you be normal? All I want to do is hold my girlfriend like -"


    She stared, unable to hear him anymore. His voice faded. The details of his body blurred and Kevin morphed into a solid plum-shape like a shadow person. His words transformed into burbles - like her head was somewhere deep underwater. Her heart roared a whoosh of blood in her ears.


    All at once, a tidal-bore of thoughts rushed her mind. The voices of her neighbors spanning a block over flooded in, deafening her into an unintelligible swarm.


    Kevin''s muffled speech escalated, growing louder and more urgent, but she still couldn''t understand. There was no way to make sense of what he was saying through the crushing waves of thoughts dragging her under.


    A blobby arm extended toward her. Kismet froze in terror. Maybe she was begging please, not to touch her, or maybe that was only in her head... When the Kevin-blob connected, the world shut off. She was immediately transported. Images flashing too quickly to catch flickered inside her mind like rapidly switching TV channels. Then they solidified and she realized with horror, she was observing Kevin''s memories.


    It was strange to see the world through his eyes. He sat in his work cubicle, fiddling with sticky notes and grinding his teeth. Then he was chatting with Jane in the breakroom. The woman smiled, tilting her head and tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. A delicate hand touched Kevin''s as she giggled and Kismet felt the stirring inside of him.


    Kevin and Jane squashed into the supply closet. Kismet wanted to scream, but her voice was trapped. This was not her body. He pressed Jane against the shelves and their mouths were all over each other. Through Kevin, she tasted the salt on the other woman''s skin, the scrape of her teeth against the soft flesh of his throat. Kevin inhaled the faint scent of her lingering perfume. Mango, or maybe passion fruit. Her body was familiar beneath his hands. His girlfriend was not this well defined. What was he still doing with Kismet anyway when he could clearly be with someone so much better?


    Somehow Kismet found herself. The white, hot, heat of betrayal was enough to finally rip her from the vision.


    Her living room snapped to stunning clarity. Kevin towered over her, but the previous anger and annoyance written across his face was replaced with concern.


    "What the hell was that?" he asked. "Should we call for a doctor? You were totally catatonic -"


    Nausea overwhelmed her and she burst from the couch, running for the bathroom. Her whole body shook. A chill settled into her bones like she''d never be warm again. Kevin stood in the doorway as she vomited in the toilet.


    "I think we should go to the hospital," he said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Something is really wrong with you."


    Kismet sat on the cold tile floor. Tasting bile in her mouth. Unshed tears stung her eyes.


    "I''m fine," she said and forced herself to stand on wobbling legs. Numb. Everything was numb. She couldn''t stand being in her own skin. "I just need to go to bed."


    "Kismet -"


    She didn''t respond. All of her energy was used to drag herself to the bed. Kismet flopped onto the mattress fully clothed and crawled under the duvet. Finally closing her eyes, she didn''t sleep. Kevin attempted speaking with her, trying to convince her to go to the hospital, but she couldn''t be bothered to say anything. Eventually, he grew frustrated and marched off.


    Hours later, the lights went out. Kevin crawled into bed. When Kismet was certain he was asleep, she slipped out. The CD player was the only thing she bothered to take and she was careful to close the front door quietly behind herself. The click of the lock made her flinch. She realized her keys were still inside. It didn''t matter. She wasn''t coming back.

 Chapter Four: You Cant Party Forever

    Angelus circled, lowering with each turn. The abandoned barn bordered the edge between the forest and sprawling pastures. Trees had begun to overtake the clearing. Vines claimed the sides of the sagging gray wood. The building slouched to the side like a propped-up hip. Pick-up trucks and rusted out cars packed the small dirt patch serving as a parking lot.


    He landed on the overgrown weeds near the front entrance. Already, he could hear music blaring from the inside. In fact, he was surprised the heavy drums and base didn''t bring the whole place down around their ears. If the older island inhabitants were to be believed, Jenkin''s barn had stood here just as lopsided and decrepit then too.


    His wings pulled back, moving almost as separate entities, and slipped through the slits under his skin. It hurt only for a moment as they writhed, eventually getting comfortable. His muscles were still sore from a long day at the dock. A new supply ship carrying dry-goods from the mainland was set to arrive tomorrow morning. He had spent the majority of the afternoon loading crates onto trucks headed for the market.


    Angel stepped into the side door of the barn. The heavy guitar riffs of the live band rattled his bones instantly.


    A ring of stacked hay bales took up a large portion of the open space. Two men squared off against each other to the raucous drunken cheers of the crowd of bystanders. One of them had fists made of steel. They flashed, reflective, under the multicolored lights. They made the man glitter like a disco ball as he shifted flesh to metal to deflect the impact of his opponent''s blows.


    The dirt floor was tramped down under thousands of feet over the years. Angel pushed through the crowd toward the bar, eager for a drink. By some miracle, he found an empty stool.


    Cassie was bartending tonight. Each of the triplets shared the same green eyes. Her long hair was twisted into two braids of twining black and green strands. Her white tank top clung to the glistening sweat on her skin and the denim shorts sat low on her hips, exposing her stomach and belly-button ring. Glitter and stick-on gems decorated the round features of her face.


    She pretended to ignore him when he flagged her over. "No shirt, no service. Sorry Grub."


    "Come on Cass."


    She stooped below the counter and grabbed a bottle of beer out of the mini-fridge and slid it over.


    "On the house," she said when he reached for his wallet.


    "I need liquor, not pity," Angelus grumbled.


    "Then I suggest you stop being so pitiful," said Cassie, leaning forward on her elbows so they could hear each other. "Better enjoy it now. I''m only on the bar for a little bit longer. Once the band''s done, Blossom and I are fire-spinning tonight."


    I wish I had half as much energy as Cass.


    She was always dancing; hula-hooping, fire-spinning or aerial-silk - it didn''t matter so long as she was moving.


    "I hope you''re not here to fight," she said. "Ever since Jeff got Aluminum Carl in here from the mainland, he''s been hogging the ring. No one can beat him. The pot is ten thousand dollars already."


    It''s never gotten that big in such a short time. I''ve only ever seen a thousand for the really good ones. I''ve barely ever gotten two-hundred. This is nuts.


    A fighter could wrack up a lot of money so long as they kept winning. If they decided to step away before losing a fight, the pot was theirs, but if they lost, they were out.


    "Nah, I''m good," Angel said, but it was tempting. "Have you seen Nyx?"


    "She''s over there somewhere," Cassie said, pointing to the distant corner of the room. It was as far from the amassing crowd as one could get. "That was the last I''ve seen of her."


    "Thanks Cass."


    Angelus took his beer and hopped off the stool. The crowd had thickened, and the raucous clamoring as the fights raged on roared over the music. A thick haze of smoke hung in a fog. He wove through the people, smiling and nodding at those that recognized him, but didn''t risk stopping to chat.


    He scanned the groups huddled together to see if he could spot her. Angel perked, shaken from his tired mind by Nyx''s mischievous smile and the way her eyes glistened in the changing strobe lights. Chocolate eyeshadow was smeared on her lids by a hasty finger beneath a ring of black eyeliner.


    A joint pressed between her smudged red lips. Just enough of her dark roots showed through her short pink hair. She kept it messy on purpose. Through his ultraviolet vision, her colours were extravagant and luminous. Angel adored how much effort she put into creating the illusion of casual indifference.


    Nyx embraced him, careful to keep the joint in her hand well away from his hair. She pressed her lips to his and for a moment, all thought ceased to exist.


    When they let go, she handed him the joint. He inhaled the earthy smoke before passing it back to her.


    "No Alistair tonight?" he asked.


    "He went to the mainland to load up the ship," she said, taking the joint from him. "I almost thought you''d have to."


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    "I probably should have. I''m fucking broke."


    "Did you think any more about what I asked?"


    She looked up at him. The hope in her eyes was gut twisting.


    "Not yet," he said, tensing. "I haven''t had time."


    "We could pool our money together. It would make it a lot easier to save up."


    "For what?" He leaned against the wall.


    "We should start thinking more seriously about the future."


    "Do we have to do that right now?" He took the joint from her again and inhaled a long drag.


    "You can''t party forever," she said.


    "Why can''t I?"


    "I think it''s time to stop goofing off and really consider what we''re doing with our lives. I''ve never heard you plan beyond the next weekend adventure."


    "C''mon," he groaned. It was suddenly difficult to catch his breath. He struggled to remain casual. Angel crushed out what was left of the joint and slipped the remains into his pocket. "I''m gonna get a drink. You want one?"


    "I thought you said you were broke?"


    Angel rolled his eyes and headed for the bar. Nyx stayed where she was, still pressed against the wall, her arms firmly crossed.


    The Barn was full to bursting with people. The metal man was still fighting. Now sweat glistened on his bare torso. Muscles rippled with exertion. Angel thought of a glazed ham and tried not to laugh.


    Cassie wasn''t at the bar, so he paid,  scrapping the lining of his wallet for change. A pit dropped in his stomach, wondering if he had saved enough leftovers in the fridge to get him through the week.


    He took the drinks to Nyx. She was rigid, feigning apathy. A pang, like panic, seized him by the ribs. The silent treatment was death.


    Can''t she yell instead?


    Angel passed her a beer like placing an offering on an altar. "I need a little more time is all."


    Her shoulders slouched, slowly sipping her drink. "Fine, but don''t think you''ve ducked out of this."


    Angel grinned and pecked her cheek. "I promise, I''ll put my best two brain cells on it. I''ll answer you... sometime."


    "I mean it," she said. "I''m going stir crazy at home. I gotta get out one way or another. I love ''em but -"


    "What?" Angel gasped. "Alistair and Cassie get on your nerves? Never. I don''t believe it. I won''t hear your slander."


    They spent the night dancing together. Nyx was gracious enough to buy his drinks, warning him not to get used to it. It was a belated birthday gift for tonight only. Still, guilt kicked his pride in the teeth.


    "What do you want for your birthday?" Angel asked. By now, his words slurred. "Name anything."


    Angel choked on his words.


    He wanted to promise her everything, yet nothing at the same time lest she set her expectations too high.


    What can I offer but disappointment?


    "Anything?" She quirked an eyebrow and smiled over the rim of her shot glass. Her grin was sly, perhaps the only indication of her fox shifting nature. They clinked glasses and took the shot. Nyx grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut.


    The crowd erupted as the metal man threw a left hook, catching his opponent on the chin, tossing the smaller man backwards to land flat on his back.


    The unconscious opponent was dragged up and out of the ring by his group of friends while the referee raised the metal man''s arm high in the air.


    "Aluminum Carl does it again!" The referee, Jeff, cried. His voice was abnormally loud and carried itself easily through the space. "A new record folks, five straight rounds undefeated. Which unlucky soul is next? Ten thousand dollars is on the line!"


    The crowd hushed as mutants murmured amongst themselves. It seemed all the dummies willing to take on Aluminum Carl were already unconscious. The metal man roared his victory.


    Five fights in a row? How is the man still standing? A feather could knock him down...


    The idea and the action occurred all at once. Angel cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice the best he could. His bird larynx could only get him so far in a group like this.


    "Me! I''ll do it!"


    Nyx stomped on his foot and he glared at her.


    "What?"


    "You can''t!" she hissed.


    "Why not? You''ve seen me fight loads of times."


    "It''s Aluminum Carl you fucking idiot! Are you kidding me?"


    "We have a taker!" Jeff cried. He squinted with a hand over his eyes to see better - pointing when he spotted Angel. "Get up here Grub! Get ready to be flattened!"


    As he moved, the crowd shifted to allow his passage. Nyx snatched his hand.


    "Please don''t."


    "Look, we''ll talk later," Angel said and pulled away.


    "Angel -"


    Angelus pretended not to hear, and walked through the crowd to the hay bales. He flexed his fingers to get out all the jitters. Already, people were taking bets. Shouts from loan sharks barked out, adding to the din. Angelus hopped into the ring.


    Aluminum Carl looked a lot bigger up close and despite himself, sweat began to bead on the back of Angels'' neck.


    Jeff bellowed out the count down. "1... 2..."


    Angelus shook out his limbs, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His heart pounded under his temples. Sweat blurred his vision. The bright multi-coloured lights were vibrant and for a moment, his sensitivities worked against him. All colours and sounds swarmed into one. He took a second to center himself.


    "Go!"


    Carl swung and Angel ducked, relieved to find he was at least more nimble than the larger man. As Angel popped back up, he threw his elbow into Carl''s right temple. The man stumbled back, then rushed forward. Angel danced out of the way, laughing. A metallic fist caught him in the jaw.


    Angel''s head snapped to the side. He spit blood. Heat flared in his chest, and when his vision cleared again, he honed in on Carl. All edges sharpened. Nothing else in the world existed. The sound of the crowd and the music faded to a mumble in the background. Every cell in his body roared to life.


    Angel rushed forward, stooped low and tackled Carl, taking him to the ground. Carl tried to get him off, but Angelus gripped him closer. Thick fingers coiled through his hair as Carl yanked him away, tossing him to the dirt.


    A metal clad foot caught him in the ribs. Pain flared and he couldn''t see. A rib splintered as the air whooshed out of him. He clutched his chest and staggered to his feet, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Each inhale twisted like a spear through his chest. He swayed.


    Maybe this wasn''t such a great idea after all?


    "You done?" Carl asked, his fists raised in defense.


    "Not even close," Angel rasped.


    No way am I giving up now. Maybe I can hang on a little longer...


    He stepped forward, biting off a scream. Pain zinged through his body. He swung his fist, entirely missing Carl''s head by a few inches.


    A metallic gut punch sent Angel backward, coughing another spurt of blood. The only sensation more vivid than pain was anger. This was what he was after - electric heat flooded his veins. No thoughts, just movement. No gnawing void, just rage.


    Angel rushed forward. Carl easily side stepped him, swerved and smashed his elbow into the side of Angel''s head.


    The crowd swam and the lights swirled. He tasted the copper tang of blood. Every beat of his desperate heart reminded him he was still alive.


    Angelus took another swing and hit the side of Carl''s jaw. His knuckles shattered against the metal. He swung with his other fist, only for that hand to meet the same fate.


    Carl''s fist crashed into Angel''s head. His vision blinked out for a moment then returned. Nausea flipped his guts. He lost his center of gravity. Another punch from Carl landed square on the center of his nose. The cartilage burst in a gush of blood. The force took Angel off his feet. He hit the ground, cracking the back of his head.


    The world went black.

 Chapter Five: The Heart Of A Flame

    Nyx didn''t waste time and hurtled over the hay bales before Jeff even had a chance to announce the obvious results of the match. Shock sobered her, but her thoughts were still fuzzy at the edges.


    Never before had she seen such a mess. Blood covered Angel''s bare torso. She took a quick survey of his condition; his nose was smashed in and his ribs were broken. His fractured chest rose and fell in a jarring rhythm.


    Panic choked her. Nyx swallowed the nausea rising within. Now was not the time. Not taking more than a second, she looked up, desperately scanning the crowd for her sister, but was unable to find her in the sea of cheering faces. No one was paying attention to them. Jeff raised Aluminum Carl''s arm to announce victory.


    "Hey!" Nyx screamed. "Hey! Jeff! I need your help. Can''t you see -"


    No one paid her any mind. She was unsure if they could even hear her. Nyx shot to her feet and rushed to the two men, shoving herself between the sweating mass that was Aluminum Carl and the smarmy little weasel Jeff.


    Nyx shoved Jeff for good measure. The crowd fell into a hushed silence. Aluminum Carl stepped back, unsure what was going on or what to do about it.


    "What the fuck is wrong with you?" she cried.


    "Do you want me to -" Carl asked Jeff.


    Jeff held up a finger, a smirk on his narrow face.


    "Try it fuck wad," Nyx snarled, turning to Carl.


    "Damn lady, It was a fair fight -"


    "Fuck off. I''ll deal with you later." She turned to Jeff. "We have to help him. What the fuck is wrong with you two?" She glared out at the now silent crowd. "With all of you!" Nyx hurried to Angel and crouched by his side. "Will someone please help?" She tried to lift him, or drag him, or something, but he was heavier than he looked. Finally, his dead weight began to move when she pulled on his shoulders. Nyx looked up, confused, then saw Cassie had joined her. She lifted Angel''s legs while Nyx supported his shoulders. Angel groaned, coughing up another spurt of blood.


    At least the spectators stepped out of their way so they could leave unimpeded.


    "Please tell me you brought Alistair''s car," said Nyx. She struggled to keep steady while supporting his weight. It was all so surreal. Everything looked distant.


    "I did." Cassie had gone completely pale, with wide doe-eyes. Panic crisped her irises. "Do you think he -"


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    "I dunno," Nyx snapped, then was immediately sorry for her tone.


    He has to be ok, there''s no other option.


    Once outside, they hurried to Alistair''s car. People lingering around who had missed the fight gawked at them in a mixture of curiosity and concern.


    Nyx opened the car door so they could slide Angel inside. She hurried in after him. In the cramped darkness of the backseat, he looked even worse than when she first saw him. Dried blood coated his face and chest. His breath rasped with every strained inhale. She cradled his head on her lap, carefully stroking his hair. Tears trailed over her warm cheeks. Blood stained her hands.


    Once Cassie was in the driver''s seat, she threw the car in reverse and peeled down the dirt road, out of the woods. Dirt kicked up behind the tires.


    "Where do we go?" she asked. "Do we take him home? To Julian?"


    "What''s Julian going to do for him?" Nyx couldn''t take her eyes off his face. "He''d find a way to berate Angel''s corpse if he could."


    "The clinic? They could do something? Right?" Desperation tightened her voice. "We don''t have enough time to get Aiden to send us to the mainland." After a brief moment of silence, she asked, "Is he going to be ok? Jeff never should have let him fight Carl. That was ridiculous."


    "They have no fucking sense," Nyx muttered. "Jeff is a greedy piece of shit and he doesn''t care. Honestly though, I can blame Jeff all I want but Angel put himself in there. I don''t know what goes through his head sometimes."


    Every bump of the dirt road jostled the car and Angel groaned in pain. At least he was still alive, and for that she was grateful. Nyx intertwined her fingers with his, but his hand was limp. The road was so dark, she couldn''t even see the trees. Their headlights lit a narrow strip of dirt road. Cassie drove far faster than she had any right to on these back roads.


    As they were about to exit the forest and get on some pavement, Angel gasped. He coughed, blood pouring from his mouth. His chest stopped rising. Nyx leaned forward, listening closely for his breath. Every crunch of gravel or gust of wind against the vehicle deafened her.


    "Fuck, he isn''t breathing!" Nyx exclaimed. Her voice trembled like the words were spoken by someone else.


    "What do we do?"


    "Just keep driving."


    Paying no mind to Angel''s injuries, Nyx locked her arms and put her hands on his sternum. She pressed in with all her weight, pumping compressions. It had been years since she had taken the course in high school, but she figured something would be better than nothing.


    "How long can you keep that up?" Cassie asked.


    "I don''t know." Nyx''s arms were already heavy. Sweat coated her chest and back. "Please hurry Cass."


    Each thrust was weaker than the last. She panted with the effort, refusing to give up. Her muscles burned.


    Angel lurched, gasping.


    A flare of blue light glowed in the center of his chest. Nyx yanked her hands up and away.


    "What the fuck?"


    Cassie jerked the steering wheel, pulling over to the shoulder of the road. The light grew and expanded throughout the rest of Angel''s body, washing him in electric blue waves.


    "What''s going on?" Cassie exclaimed.


    The blue fire reflected in her eyes.


    "I dunno." Nyx''s heart sat in her throat, throbbing. Her fingernails dug into the fabric of her jeans. Eternity passed across minutes within the light. It enveloped her vision and swallowed her up.


    Here, there was only warmth and weightlessness.


    A white light consumed the backseat of the car with Angelus glowing azure in the center like the heart of a flame.

 Chapter Six: Sorry Officer, The Fox Made Me Do It

    Kismet''s eyes watered, so dry from hours of wandering. The brick buildings were pressed too close together and stretched up toward the sky. This part of the city was often still this late at night. The sound of her boots on the pavement echoed, splashing in shallow puddles.


    She played the same CD five times already. Her only regret was leaving her collection behind. Shelves and shelves of CDs, now gone forever.


    No doubt Kevin will make quick work of selling them, or toss them out. The art gallery once displayed a mobile made of CDs. Maybe he''d do something like that.


    Then there were her books. Their walk-in closet had no clothes. Instead, it was end to end bookshelves, stuffed so full some were stacked in piles on the floor.


    Kevin will surely burn them. He''s certainly threatened it often enough.


    She twisted the ends of her sweater sleeves, finding them damp from chewing.


    Her mouth moved silently to the music. The lyrics were so familiar to her now, she could recite them in her sleep. The sidewalk was nearly empty at this hour. Kismet imagined an apocalypse had wiped everyone out but her and the few other stragglers passing by.


    How will I ever survive the wasteland?


    The streams of colours were cosmic against the bleak city backdrop. A lump of hardened certainty sat in the core of her gut, telling her where to go.


    The Academy had crossed her mind, but it was all the way in Applegate on the other side of the country. Despite the posters and pamphlets boasting of its accolades, The Academy made her nervous.


    Merely twenty years ago, before Ivy''s reign, the school served as a R and D branch of the government. Any mutants below the age of twenty had been swiftly captured and imprisoned there to have their skills exploited or experimented on. Some were deemed too dangerous to be left alive. Students either outlived their purpose, or became Watchers.


    Then and now, Watchers worked for The Academy. At least now students had the option to leave and carve out their own lives. Most who graduated The Academy went on to blend in with human society, or stuck to themselves in mutant-only districts.


    Kismet wandered under an overpass. Buildings became spaced further apart, making way for squat bungalows. The air smelled of brine. Waves rolled against the rocky shore. Somehow the sound was more threatening at night.


    She followed the narrowing road, getting closer to the sea. The stars here were already brighter than they had been deeper in the city. The sign stretching across the toll booth read Portsmouth Ferry Terminal. It wouldn''t be open until eight o''clock in the morning. She''d have to wait.


    Kismet pressed play on her CD for the seventh time and doubled-back for the overpass. There was a dry and fairly litter free patch of cement against the concrete wall. She scuffed some dust out of the way and sat down, hunkering into herself to close her eyes.


    When she settled, the hum of buzzing voices swarming at the base of her skull grew louder and more incessant. Rather than sleep, each thought carried her away to a new life and scenario. Too tired to fight, she mind-hopped, sliding from one head to another in an astral roller coaster. The tension of her own arms wrapped around her trembling body was the only thing keeping her together.


    Movement across the street brought her to reality. Or at least so she thought, but couldn''t be certain. She squinted at the shape trotting around the opposite sidewalk. A silver fox nosed around at the litter, tail high in the air. The dim street light illuminated their emerald eyes. They stopped. Sniffed the air. An ear tilted in Kismet''s direction before they turned to look at her entirely.


    Kismet clicked off her music, caught in the liminal awareness of being both prey and predator - fearful that the fox might attack, or that she may scare them away. Instead, the fox perked and bounded across the road toward her. Their bushy tail curled, swishing in the air. She held herself still, too nervous even to breathe. The fox sniffed around her body. Satisfied, the creature sat down and stared at her as if expecting something.


    "What do you want little guy?" she asked.


    The fox blinked.


    "Please don''t give me rabies," Kismet said and slowly reached out to pet the animal''s head. The fox squinted their eyes in contentment, so she scratched between their ears and marveled at how tame they behaved. "Do you have a family? Are you someone''s pet?"


    The fox crouched out from under her hand. Offended, their fur ruffled and puffed.


    "Ok, ok, I''m sorry. Maybe you''re not a pet, just a really nice little fella."


    The fox bounced in place, bounded away a few steps, then turned to look at her, tail wagging.


    "Do you -" She hesitated, unable to believe what she was about to say. "Do you want me to follow you?"


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    Ok, this is it. I''ve officially lost it.


    They crouched and sprung, looking in the direction of the road then back to her.


    "I can''t believe I''m doing this," Kismet muttered and got to her feet. The fox scuttled forward and she went after them.


    She followed them out from under the overpass and through the residential streets. Rows of apartment buildings that were once single family homes sat in stillness.


    The occupants left piles of garbage bags stacked next to the outdoor bins. Rotten bits of broken furniture on the curb were heaped on the side of the road. A decaying mattress slumped in the grass next to the sidewalk.


    The fox paid no mind to the trash and kept their mind on whatever mission had possessed them. They trotted forward, tail in the air.


    Eventually, one side of the road gave way to a rocky cliff held together with mesh netting to keep the erosion of the ocean below at bay. The moon reflected in the water as the waves sloshed against the shore.


    The homes on the other side of the street became grander in nature. At one time, they must have been glorious manors. They had since been chopped into apartments. Normally, waterfront views would surely cost a small fortune, but this section of town was far too industrial and decrepit. Overlooking a harbour and congested port almost made it so the ocean didn''t count.


    The fox turned and trotted down the driveway of one of these large homes. The blue house towered three stories tall. Two turrets framed it on either side with regal cones for roofs. A veranda wrapped around the front along the side of the home toward the back. Porch lights illuminated the navy siding and white trim.


    Kismet hesitated to follow the fox, unwilling to trespass on the whims of a wild animal. The fox stopped and waited, tip-toeing urgently in place until she gave in. She scrunched up as she crept along, hoping no one would spot her lurking about at this hour.


    Somehow I doubt, ''Sorry officer, the fox told me to do it,'' is going to fly as a defense.


    The driveway led to a small gravel parking lot packed full of vehicles. The backyard was neatly groomed and home to a blooming flower garden. A stone pathway wove between the flowerbeds, underneath archways teeming with roses. Others were laden with fat grapes shining silver in the moonlight.


    The fox led her through the garden. Their black and silver flecked fur was difficult to keep track of in the dark. The white tip of his fluffy tail was the only beacon.


    The yard was much larger than she would have suspected just looking at the manor from the road. The estate must have been something to behold in its time. A small shed was tucked neatly at the back. It was decorated with red siding and white trim that crisscrossed along the window shutters.


    One of the wide doors was propped open with a rock. She frowned, finding it odd someone wouldn''t lock up their shed for the night, especially in this neighborhood. The fox slipped through the crack, disappearing inside.


    Kismet waited, wringing her hands. It was one thing to be caught out in the yard, and another to actually cross a threshold uninvited. That was certainly asking for trouble. She nibbled the cuff of her sweater sleeve, uncertain what to do next.


    Maybe I really have lost it this time? Maybe the fox isn''t trying to communicate and I followed a random animal into someone''s backyard for no reason.


    She''d have to find her way back through the maze of a garden again all on her own - The shed door shifted, pushing the crack open wider and she froze.


    A man emerged, shirtless and still fiddling with the belt buckle holding up his torn jeans. The man was so tall he had to stoop a little to step out.


    "I''m sorry, I was - I was -" she stammered, ripping at the frayed ends of her sleeves.


    The man smiled, emerald eyes gleaming in what little light managed to glow from the porch. He shook out his shaggy blond hair and extended a hand.


    Uncertain what else to do, she took it. His calloused fingers were rough against her smooth palm as they shook. Warmth, like heated caramel radiated from him. She relaxed a bit despite herself. His transformation had startled her, but considering the fact she could read minds, it wasn''t so strange in the scheme of things. Though she had to admit, it was still a touch disorienting.


    "I''m Alistair," he said. "Sorry about that. It''s a little hard to talk in my other form, ya know? But It isn''t like I could shift right in front of you." He flushed, ruffling his hair. "You seemed a little lost."


    "I wasn''t lost. I meant to be there."


    "Oh, sorry," he said. His blush deepened. "I thought you were. It''s so late at night, and most of us know to come here, so I supposed where you were sleeping out in the dirt and all that maybe you didn''t know where to go."


    "Most of us?" she asked.


    "Mutants?" He tilted his head slightly. "You are one of us, aren''t you?"


    "No, wait, I mean, yes - I guess I am." Kismet shuffled in place.


    "I knew it," he said grinning, and tapped the side of his nose. "I''m never wrong. Are you new to town or something?"


    "No, just new to all of this kind of stuff," she said. Now she was the one blushing. "It was really kind of you to help me. Sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing."


    "Nothing important. Just out for a nighttime scuttle." He headed toward the path. "Did you want to come inside?"


    Not seeing many other options, or a real reason not to, she agreed and followed him. "What is this place anyway?"


    "It''s a hostel for mutants visiting the area, so we have some place to stay out of the way of humans. Better yet, it''s free."


    Kismet scrunched her brow.


    That sounds too good to be true. Everything has a price.


    "How is that possible?"


    They stopped when they climbed up on the veranda. Alistair took a half-finished cigarette out of his pocket. He offered a fresh one to Kismet, but she declined.


    "Ivy covers it," he said. "She still makes a ton of money healing all those billionaires and the Watchers have to donate their service fees too, but they get to live for free, so what''s it to them? If they wanna devout their lives to Ivy''s cause, all the power to ''em."


    "I thought Ivy wasn''t healing the politicians anymore?" Kismet asked. "The people on the news complain all the time."


    Alistair leaned forward on the railing, twirling the cigarette between his fingers. "Of course she isn''t. She''ll heal pretty much anyone but them. She hates their guts, and I don''t blame her."


    "What makes them so different from all the others?" Kismet asked.


    "They were the ones orchestrating the structure of the old Academy. The elite outside of Gleodem are another matter though. She''ll help them so long as their background checks clear and they can pay up, of course. She also ends up with a lot of say in international legislation that way too. Anyone wanting her help has to play by her rules." He exhaled a cloud of smoke. "You never told me your name?"


    "Oh, sorry. It''s Kismet," she said and shook his hand again. The night had been so disorienting and surreal, she had completely forgotten to introduce herself.


    "A pleasure," he beamed and tossed the butt of his cigarette into the garden below. "What do ya say we head inside and get you a room?"

 Chapter Seven: You Ruined My Shirt

    The electric-blue light sucked inside of Angel as quickly as it had come. He gasped for air and sat bolt upright. Scrambling backward, he pressed against the car door, nearly feral with fear.


    "What the fuck?" he exclaimed.


    Nyx stared at him from the other side of the backseat. Her eyes were wide in wonder and horror. Mascara and eyeliner smeared across her face, mingling with the streaks of blood on her cheeks. Terror gripped him, worried it was hers. The tight crusted layer of blood coating his chest made him realize it was his own.


    I''m fine. Better than ever really, so where did all of this blood come from and why does she look so devastated and awe stricken? Why is Cassie peering at me from the driver''s seat like I have ten heads?


    The last thing I remember is getting drinks... then Jeff''s announcement... Nyx stomping on my foot... Carl...


    "What the fuck?" he repeated. "Was I fucking dead?"


    "I - I think so," said Nyx. Her voice was low and hoarse. She threw herself against him and he reflexively hugged her, still reeling and numb. Her tears were wet against his bare chest. "What were you thinking?"


    "I wasn''t," he said.


    "Should we - should we still go to the clinic?" Cassie asked.


    Nyx pulled away to look up at his face, her body still pressed close. She pinched Angel''s cheeks, turning his head side to side. "How are you feeling?"


    "Good. Really good actually," he said, squirming away from her grip. Even the dull ache he felt earlier that evening had disappeared. "I don''t think there''s any need for the clinic. I''d only be wasting Dr. McGill''s time."


    "Maybe you should, just to be safe?" Cassie suggested.


    Nyx nodded, wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands.


    "No." Chills settled in and he trembled, cold despite the summer humidity. "I wanna go home. We can figure something out in the morning."


    Cassie pulled the car onto the road and continued toward the village. Respecting Angel''s wishes, she turned down the backroads toward his cabin.


    "Are you sure?" Nyx asked.


    He nodded.


    "I''ve only seen something like that once before," said Nyx. "When Ivy came to the island that day."


    A shiver rippled up his spine. "That''s an incredibly rare ability, and so far as anyone knows, she''s the only one to ever be born with it. How could I have it and not know all this time?"


    "You''ve never been dead before," said Nyx. "How should we know how this works? It''s not like Ivy is a chatterbox."


    "You''re resilient right?" Cassie asked. "Maybe that has something to do with it? Daisy can''t even read your emotions. Maybe energy stuff doesn''t mesh well with your body or something?"


    Angel considered it. Daisy was frustrated to no end that she couldn''t get a handle on him when she easily absorbed and read everyone else. He was the only one on the island capable of lying to her and that alone was enough to drive her batty. She had mentioned on several occasions that this had annoyed her about his mother Ember as well, so perhaps there was truth to Cassie''s theory.


    They made it to his cabin and parked in the driveway. The small yellow house was in darkness, looking lonelier than ever. Nyx and Cassie followed him out of the car.


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    "It''s ok," Angel said. "Maybe you two should head home. I''m only gonna go to bed."


    "No way am I leaving you alone after that," said Nyx. She clung to him like a burdock, wrapping her arms tight around his waist.


    The warm wind was refreshing against his too hot skin. He was torn between needing comfort and wanting to be alone. Nyx and Cassie followed him inside through the backdoor. He didn''t protest.


    When he clicked on the kitchen light, he saw just how much blood covered his chest. Cassie seemed to be the only one to make it out with minimal damage to her clothing. Blood splatter stained splotches of her white tank top and the top of her chest, hands and cheeks. Other than Angel, Nyx got the worst of it, she was almost as caked in it as he was.


    Cassie stooped over the kitchen sink and scrubbed off the blood with dish soap anywhere she could reach.


    "I''ll bring you something to wear," said Angel, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.


    "No, it''s ok," said Cassie. Her shirt was damp from the splashing water. "If it''s ok with you guys, I think I might head home. It might be better if I get out of the way. Unless you need me here?"


    "I got it," said Nyx. "Thanks Cass." She hugged her sister. Both girls sniffled and fought off their tears.


    "You can both go if you want," Angel grumbled "Don''t let me keep ya."


    "I''m glad you''re ok," said Cassie. Her eyes glimmered. The Kitchen''s bright white light washed out her complexion. "I really thought you were -" she couldn''t finish her sentence. Cass turned and hurried for the door. "Sorry, I''ll -"


    "Cass, wait," Angel said, stepping toward her.


    "Yeah?"


    "Thank you. You really had my back in there. I appreciate it."


    "Yeah, well," she said, and smiled through budding tears. "Anytime. Call if you need me."


    Cassie stepped out and shut the door. He braced himself against the wall to keep balance. A bloody hand print stained the wood.


    Angel headed for the bathroom and hopped in the shower. The water turned red at his feet, swirling down the drain. He shivered despite the warmth and steam collecting in the small space. He couldn''t stop shaking. The bathroom door opened and clicked closed again. He could see Nyx''s silhouette through the frosted glass.


    "I brought us some clothes from upstairs," she said.


    "I''m fine. You don''t have to stay with me. Maybe you can catch Cassie before she leaves?"


    "You''re not fine. No one is expecting you to be even slightly ok."


    He turned the water off. "Will you make yourself useful at least and hand me a towel?"


    She passed him one through the door. He scruffed at his hair with it before tying it off around the waist and stepped out, still dripping.


    It twisted his heart to see her staring at him with such wide, blood-shot eyes. The shambles she was in all because of him.


    He wanted to cry, to tell her he''d never do anything like this ever again, but he didn''t want to lie to her either.


    "You ruined my shirt," he said instead, pointing at the green flannel button up.


    "More like you ruined my shirt."


    Her eyes looked so tired. He was sorry for that more than anything. He watched her nimble fingers unbutton the top, shrugging it off and stepping out of her jeans before climbing into the shower.


    He dropped his towel and followed her in. She shifted position to make room.


    "What was the point of drying off in the first place?" she asked.


    He shrugged and put a glob of shampoo in his hand, rubbing it through her wet hair.


    Nyx caught his wrist. "Why did you fight Carl?"


    Angel gently tugged free of her grip. "I didn''t intend for that to happen. Not like that."


    "What did you think was going to happen?"


    "There was a ten thousand dollar prize. I couldn''t help it. Carl had fought like, five people already, I figured I might have a shot or it''d at least be fun to try."


    "Fun?" She scoffed. "What part of that was fun?"


    "Most of it. Obviously I didn''t think Carl was going to murder me. That part was less than ideal." He reached over and she let him work the shampoo lather out of her hair. He tried not to shudder, thinking of the void he''d been pulled from. "I didn''t mean to scare you."


    "This has to stop," she said. "I couldn''t take it if anything happened to you. If you -"


    Nyx tossed her arms around him. He felt her warmth, and wanted her close but the flash of blue light made him think of what Nyx said about Ivy. Angel let go.


    "What is it?"


    "I don''t want to hurt you. What if I -"


    "Oh," she said and thought for a moment. "I don''t think it works like that."


    "How could we know?"


    She put her hand on his cheek. He tensed, but didn''t stop her, leaning into her touch. The crackle of her energy was warm beyond her usual body heat. After the initial trepidation, it was an oddly soothing sensation. It still felt like her, but more. There was a firmness there - an unyielding softness. Fear fled from him. He reached out to her, finding more of the buttery feeling wherever his hands landed. It was as though he were touching her for the first time.


    "See?" She leaned forward until their noses nearly touched. "You''d never hurt me."


    He pressed his back against the cool tile. Goosebumps rose up on his arms at the sudden contrast between the heat of her body, the water and the cold of the tile under his skin. Her lips brushed against his and he anticipated a kiss. Instead, she pressed her face to his chest, breaking into wracking sobs.

 Chapter Eight: Tonight Never Happened

    Soft moonlight shone through the bedroom window. The crisp, clean bed sheets smelled of lavender. Nyx stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding until it hurt. The familiarity of Angel''s bedroom was somehow disorienting.


    Angel turned toward her and cuddled up close. "I want to sleep so bad, but I''m wide awake."


    "Are you scared?" she asked.


    "No." He draped his arm across her. "We can pretend like tonight never happened."


    "You died in my arms Angel, how can you expect me to move past that?"


    "Because I''m asking you to." He got away from her and sat up against the pillows. "Frankly, it''s none of your business."


    She propped herself up on her elbow. A lump formed in the base of her throat, but now was not the time to argue about their relationship.


    "Your business is my business," she growled.


    "Please, can we drop it?"


    "We don''t know much about Ivy''s powers -"


    "I know what Ivy can do," he snapped. "Everyone knows what she''s capable of. That''s not what I want. I want to go back to how things were."


    "I don''t think that''s possible," Nyx said gently. If all of this was hard for her to stomach, she couldn''t imagine what he must be feeling. "I''m sorry. I think we need to learn more about it, that''s all. It strikes me as odd these powers would sit dormant for so long. Why would your body repress it? Where did they even come from?"


    "Bodies do weird shit all the time. Especially mutant bodies. It doesn''t mean there''s anything sketchy going on."


    "You''re not the least bit curious?"


    "Not at all."


    Nyx didn''t believe him for a second, but didn''t bother to press it.


    "Maybe there''s a way to control it?" he suggested, and seemed to brighten. "Maybe I could use them to actually start wining some fights? Even if I only used them to heal, I''d have an advantage."


    Nyx''s stomach dropped. Part of her had wished this would have been it, that he''d finally be careful after such a close call.


    What did I expect? He''s never going to stop. How could I be such an idiot?


    "I don''t think you should do anymore fighting," she said. "Revealing your new powers isn''t a good idea. At least not right now. Ivy might hear about it."


    "Why on earth would she give a shit?" he exclaimed.


    "She may find someone having her abilities to be a threat."


    "Ivy is going to find me threatening? I''m flattered, but seriously, that''s ridiculous."


    "If you can flip your powers like she can, you could suck anyone''s life-force out, including hers."


    Angel''s eyes widened. "Yeah, but I wouldn''t."


    "It doesn''t matter that you wouldn''t do it. It matters that you could. So far as we know, you''re the only person capable of killing her, or coming within a ball park range of it at least. Plus, she''d lose a lot of her leverage, especially in international politics if you were to decide to heal the leaders and elite she''s been negotiating with. She might want to get rid of you before she no longer has that option, or best case scenario, she''ll strongly insist you go to The Academy."


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    Angel bristled as it finally dawned on him that he would not get much of a say in either situation.


    "Fine then," he sighed. "We won''t say anything to anyone." Angel fixed his eyes ahead, looking toward the window. His jaw twitched. "Do you think the others would hate me?"


    He sounded so quiet and soft, her heart broke.


    "What do you mean?"


    "Your mom and dad, Daisy and Aiden. Julian. They might be scared of me after seeing what Ivy did in the war."


    "That''s not fair," Nyx argued. "You''re not Ivy, and you''re not going to suck out anyone''s life by accident or on purpose."


    He laid down, pulling the covers up. Nyx scooched down and cuddled up close, and they faced each other. Only a few hours ago she was certain she''d never get to stare into his eyes like this again. Her grip tightened.


    "Do you hate me?" he asked.


    "Not in a million years," she said, and smoothed her hand across his cheek and hair.


    "Good." He closed his eyes with a soft sigh. "I don''t think I could bear it if you did."


    Eventually, Angel''s breathing slowed as he finally sunk into sleep. Nyx snuggled closer, put her arm across his chest and savored the beat of his heart.


    Her chest tightened. It hurt to inhale. Everything in her wanted to cling to him, but she could not stand to go through something like this again.


    He died right in front of me, and he''d do it all over again if he could. I''ve been a fool to wait for so long, but I can''t stand to think of being without him. There has to be some kind of way.


    When she woke, he was gone. Sunlight streamed through the window. Squinting, she sat up against the pillows.


    It figures he''d still go to work the day after dying rather than risk continuing the conversation.


    Nyx slipped out of bed and stole another of his t-shirts before tugging on a pair of jeans she stashed here the last time. Angel pretended not to notice the items she''d leave behind and in return, she''d try to hide them well.


    It didn''t take long for her to gather them all up again. She stacked her small heap of belongings in the middle of the bed. Her brush, deodorant, makeup, toothbrush, jeans... it was all there and she stuffed it inside of a tote-bag. There had been no sense in picking at it, but his attitude told her all she needed to know. His reaction was born out of fear, but to her, it spoke volumes.


    He clearly wants space and has no intentions of settling down anytime soon.


    Nyx took her stuff and found her skateboard in the coat closet. She''d left it here one day when Angel offered to fly her home instead.


    Last night was horrifying. If he didn''t have that hidden power... I don''t even want to think about it.


    The asphalt was cracked and pitted, catching up her wheels as she rolled along the road toward home. Her parent''s cabin was only a few blocks over. The tote bag bumped against her hip. Cicadas hummed under the summer sun, hiding somewhere within the overgrown lawns.


    A stone caught the front wheel, sending Nyx face first onto the sidewalk. Cursing, she got up on all fours and struggled to her feet. The rips in her jeans had grown wider, leaving her skin torn and bruised.


    Nyx brushed herself off and looked up at a squat red house. The boarded up windows and decayed siding told her it was still unclaimed. Scraggly black - berry bushes guarded the front lawn from view. The driveway had begun to grow weeds through the cracks in the pavement.


    She approached with caution. Just because people hadn''t moved in didn''t mean racoons hadn''t. The deck sagged under her weight and she was mindful of where she stepped. The boards nailing the door closed had already been pried apart by another nosey investigator.


    It was love at first sight. The yellow hardwood shone as the light from the door hit it. The main floor appeared to be entirely open concept with a large space for a living-room and dining area, with a kitchen in the back.


    The narrow staircase lead to a half-story. One room to the left could be a bedroom and the other could be for her drums.


    She didn''t waste time staking her claim and brought her items inside. Under Portsmouth law, the house was now hers until she said otherwise.


    When mutants had first arrived on the island, the abandoned Portsmouth fishing village was in shambles. Over the decades, they worked on fixing up the buildings and adding more infrastructure as needed. Any empty cabin was fair game for an island resident in need of one.


    In the beginning, they were gradually occupied by mutants fleeing the mainland in search of refuge. Later, recently liberated mutants from The Old Academy took them during and after the war. These days, remaining cabins were picked at by recent high school or Academy graduates and newly weds.


    Angel will be relieved to have the pressure off. The houses are close enough together we can visit each other even easier than we can now. I can''t think of a better compromise.


    Nyx skateboarded toward the dock to find him, careful to dodge any more stray rocks.

 Chapter Nine: Do They Pay You Extra To Be This Cruel?

    The sound of doors opening and closing woke Kismet up. The sun shone through the bedroom window. Occupants shuffled around the hostel, getting ready; coughing, clearing throats, and running showers.


    Last night, Alistair had spoken to management; a round older woman named Watcher Gale, who was able to find Kismet space in the last vacant room. It was on the third story at the top of one of the turrets. The single solitary window was a large circle, split into quarters with black framing. The double bed on a white iron frame nearly took up the entire room. The springs dug into her back, then her side. It didn''t seem to matter how she turned.


    The clock on the nightstand read seven a.m. Kismet burst out of bed and clamoured for her headphones. She couldn''t risk losing track of things when time was of the essence. She hurried down the narrow steps, music blasting in her ears as she raced outside.


    Daylight stripped the garden of its magic. It was also difficult to recognize the streets and the way she had come. Some of the grimy abandoned furniture served as place markers, and the area gradually became more familiar.


    This time when she found the ferry terminal, the parking lot was much busier. The ship already waited in the dock behind the squat white building, letting vehicles board first. She ran toward the terminal, her sneakers pounding against the pavement. Cars trying to find parking spaces honked at her as she cut them off.


    The inside of the building was much quieter, and Kismet risked turning her music off. She raced to the ticket booth where a bored young woman scowled at her from behind a glass panel.


    She chewed her gum the way a cow ate grass. "Ticket or access card please," she drawled.


    "Ah -"


    The woman raised a plucked eyebrow. "If you can''t produce either a ticket or an access card, you''ll have to move along."


    Kismet glanced over her shoulder. No one waited behind her. She patted her jeans, already knowing she wouldn''t find anything in her pockets, but was merely buying time.


    "It''s gotta be here somewhere." Sweat pooled under her shirt collar. "Say I lost it, where would I get a ticket or an access card?"


    "Buy a ticket over there," said the lady, jerking her thumb toward a kiosk close to the glass front doors. "To get an access card you''d have to be an island resident."


    "Oh, yeah -" Kismet said. "Guess I better go get a ticket then." She scurried toward the kiosk, unsure what she was going to do. Perhaps running away had been a bad idea altogether. Her bank card was still in her wallet, but the funds were low. Already sunken into overdraft.


    "There you are, you little rascal," said Alistair. He had snuck up behind Kismet, clapping her on the shoulder. He must have been seated in the lobby. She almost didn''t recognize him with a shirt on. She shrunk under his hand, but he seemed to be talking to the ticket lady more than for her sake.


    What is he getting at?


    "She has a card, I swear," he explained to the lady. "My friend here gets a little confused sometimes and probably left it at home."


    Kismet looked around at him, blinking.


    What in the world is he doing?


    "It''s my fault. I should have reminded her."


    "It doesn''t matter whose fault it is," the woman said with narrowed, impatient eyes. "No ticket, no card, no ship. It''s that simple."


    Alistair leaned on the counter, flashing a brilliant smile. "C''mon Carol. Do they pay you extra to be this cruel?"


    "They pay me to do my job, Alice. Pay up or move along."


    "Fine, have it your way," he muttered. "Come on friend, I guess I''ll have to get you a ticket."


    "You don''t have to," said Kismet. If the world could swallow her up, she''d greatly appreciate it. "I can -"


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    "It''s not a problem," he said.


    She followed him over to the kiosk where he slid in his bank card and pressed buttons on the screen. Guilt sat like a stone at the bottom of her stomach.


    "You don''t have to do this," she said. "Really. It''s ok. I can find some other way." The only other option was using her abilities, and that was hardly an option at all. Mind-reading for her own personal gain was absolutely off-limits. She would not make that mistake again. "I can figure it out."


    "It''s fine, truly," he assured her. "Once we get to the island, I''ll take you to meet with Julian. He''ll help you get set up with a card. I can''t see Watcher Liz finding too much trouble with it. Or at least she shouldn''t."


    "Watcher Liz?" Kismet asked. The black-cloaked mutants were rarely seen in her part of town. Until last night, she had never met one before. Watcher Gale had seemed utterly normal; A sweet old woman with the ability to predict five minutes in the future. She hadn''t been perturbed to squeeze Kismet in at the last minute.


    So far, Watchers seemed a lot less scary in real life than the television showed them to be. News footage often depicted them as ruthless agents of Ivy''s rule, detaining or outright killing mutants who defied her laws. They''d come for humans sometimes too, but that was rare - only if an egregious act against a mutant had been committed beyond a reasonable doubt.


    "As Ivy''s representative, Liz is head of the council and gets the final say," Alistair explained. He took the thin paper ticket that spit out of the machine and handed it to her. "That being said, she''s never vetoed anything. I''m sure you''ll be fine."


    "What if I''m not?"


    "Well, in that case, we have a tradition where we put rejects on a raft and push them out to sea." He grinned. "I hope you know how to swim."


    "Seriously," she said. "That doesn''t happen."


    Alistair laughed. "I don''t know what happens. I''ve never seen anyone get rejected before. Though to be honest, I''ve never seen anyone come over from the human side. Not as an adult anyway. Most mutants born to human families are sent off to The Academy the minute their powers manifest. So what made you so lucky?"


    "I would hardly call it luck," she said but didn''t elaborate further.


    Alistair got the hint and didn''t pry. Kismet followed him over to Carol. He slid the ticket to her through a narrow slot under the glass. Carol got Kismet to stick out her arm where she attached a green paper bracelet around her wrist.


    "Sorry about Angel by the way," Carol said to Alistair.


    "Yeah, I''m sorry about him too," said Alistair. "What did he do this time?"


    Carol looked up at him with wide eyes and Kismet tensed. Stale yellow ribbons of apprehension spiraled off the woman with accents of navy-blue sadness.


    "You don''t know?"


    "So tell me," he said with a hint of desperation. His jovial tone had vanished.


    "He got pretty smashed up fighting Aluminum Carl last night," said Carol. "I heard he was, ya know..."


    Alistair stiffened. "He gets beat up all the time. With his resilience, I''m sure he''s fine. It always looks worse than it is."


    "Sure." Carol looked at him with pity. "I hope that''s the case."


    They walked away from the booth. Alistair had gone pale. Kismet didn''t need to be a telepath to notice he struggled to contain his emotions.


    "I gotta go use the phone," he said. His voice was clipped and strained. "I''ll be right back."


    Kismet sat down in the lobby. The plastic chair was hard and cold beneath her. The clock above the ticket booth read seven-forty-five. They''d be called to board any moment.


    I hope his friend is alright. How can I comfort this guy? I hardly know him. He''s already helped me so much. There''s gotta be something I can do.


    When Alistair returned, he looked even more sullen than before and slouched into the empty seat next to her.


    "No answer," he said. "Not anywhere. No one seems to be home at all. If something awful happened, they''d call me, wouldn''t they? It''s not like they didn''t know where I was staying. Nyx would have called for sure. So he''s gotta be ok. Right?"


    Kismet didn''t have the slightest clue who any of these people were but nodded regardless. "I''m sure it''ll be fine. Once we get to the island, everything will be cleared up. You said he has resilience? That''s like a sort of durability or invulnerability? It''s like you said, he probably looked worse than he is and everyone is jumping to conclusions."


    "Yeah, you''re probably right," he said, but fidgeted in his seat. Magenta sparks of anxiety erupted from him like bullets.


    When they called the walk-on passengers to board, Kismet tagged along behind him. Alistair wasn''t as talkative as before, but he didn''t turn her away either. They found a seat in the main lounge.


    The ferry had one and a half levels available to passengers, and access to the deck. The day was so clear, the sun shining and brisk over the calm ocean it was tempting to go outside, but despite Alistair''s quiet, contemplative demeanor, he was gradually being consumed by the magenta ribbons swirling around him.


    Kismet sat in the chair across the small table. The furniture was bolted to the floor to keep it from sliding around on rough seas. Alistair huddled up on the booth seat, studying the edges of his paper bracelet.


    "Wanna play a game?" she asked.


    He looked up. "Hmm, maybe. What kinda game?"


    "A sort of pretend game," she said. "I like to imagine I''m somewhere else. What if we were actually on a pirate ship? Would we be crewmates or prisoners? Would we be nice or mean pirates?"


    "How old are you?" he asked, but not without a glimmer of humour and perhaps even intrigue.


    "Twenty-three but that''s beside the point," she said. "Do you wanna play or not?"


    "OK, I''ll give. I say we''re nice pirates protecting a treasure. Now what?"


    "Well, now we gotta decide who we''re protecting it from and what is it?"


    They carried on like this, back and forth until the shore of Portsmouth Island emerged on the horizon.

 Chapter Ten: Roly- Polies

    The waves rolled into shore, calm and soft against the sand. Angel closed his eyes to feel the world turn. The earth ignited in a new way. The air hummed with a vibration that even his sensitive hearing had not been able to detect previously. It was warm against his skin like the sun in midsummer.


    Even the driftwood log he sat on teemed with life. The wood itself had long since faded, but the bugs currently using it for shelter were like tiny embers scuttling about.


    It was because of this very beach and a similar log that he had been given the nickname ''Grub.'' He had come here frequently as a kid to skip stones or play games with the triplets. Once a particularly gnarly and rotted log had washed up. They were nine years old at the time. It was fresh on its driftwood journey, not yet made hard and smooth by the waves. Instead, it was still rotten and soft. Nyx kicked it, cracking the wood open to expose a haven of roly-polies. The little gray creatures scattered, escaping the light.


    Alistair plucked one up. The roly-poly curled into a ball in his palm.


    "I dare you to eat it," he teased Angel.


    Angel poked the pill-bug with a finger. It curled up tighter. His stomach churned. "Ok, I''ll do it."


    "Aw man, not seriously," said Alistair. "That''s gross dude. Let''s put it back. Maybe we can build a sandcastle to fill up with crabs instead."


    Nyx stopped kicking the log and joined them. "You''re seriously gonna eat that dirty ol'' bug?"


    He shrugged. "Sure, why not?" It was a genuine question. He couldn''t think of a reason not to, and the expressions of disgust and horror as well as intrigued excitement on his friends'' faces spurned him forward. Angel plucked the roly-poly out of Alistair''s hand.


    "I was only kidding," said Alistair. His eyes shone, greedy with anticipation.


    Angel dangled the curled-up roly-poly between his fingers, closed his eyes and popped it in his mouth. His friends squealed in disgust and delight.


    "You''re nuts Grub. I bet that guy had a family," said Alistair.


    Alistair called him ''Grub'' for the rest of the afternoon, and it caught on from there.


    Angel couldn''t explain why he ate the roly-poly.


    To make them laugh? To gross them out? Who knows.


    When he opened his eyes and looked at his hands, a faint blue aura lined the contours of his body. He shook his hand as if to get dirt away. The light disappeared.


    I should have moved in with Nyx. I shouldn''t have fought Carl. Then none of this would have happened.


    "Hey! I thought I''d find you here."


    He looked toward the familiar voice to see Nyx climbing down the rocks concealing this small patch from the rest of the beach. She placed her feet with well practiced caution, holding her arms out for balance. The wind pushed her pink hair to the side. She wore his shirt again - this time a black t-shirt. Remnants of last night''s makeup still stained rings around her eyes.


    "I thought you were at work, so I went to the dock to look for you. I figured this was the next best bet." Nyx hopped off the bottom rock onto the sand.


    "I can''t hide from you," he said and moved over to make room.


    "Then why do you try?" she asked, and sat next to him. "How are you?"


    "How do you think I am?" he sighed. "I can''t stop thinking about it. I wish I could dip my brain in bleach so I can forget about it. You remember when Ivy came to the island that time? When she nearly killed June and actually sucked up Bill?"


    Nyx nodded.


    "What if I get like that?" he asked utterly horrified to speak the words aloud.


    That day, they were supposed to go straight to their room and not come out. The triplet''s parents, Molly and Jay, let Angel stay in Alistair''s room and ordered them both to keep clear of the windows. Of course they didn''t listen and peered outside. Most of the adults on the island huddled in Bill''s front yard across the street.


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    Ivy emerged from the end of the road, her black cloak trailing behind her. Her skin was like glass, translucent in the sunlight. Even her long white hair flowed and shimmered, losing its physicality. It seemed to drift as she glided closer.


    Angel and Alistair held hands, utterly transfixed. Perhaps Watcher Liz was right and Ivy truly was divinity made flesh?


    Nyx and Cassie bursting into the room to hide with them, breaking their trance. They pushed the dresser in front of the door and huddled under the blankets. Nyx was the only one brave enough to tug down the blinds before ducking back under the duvet with them.


    "She does a lot of good things too," said Nyx, snapping Angel to the present. "This power isn''t all bad."


    "How much good does someone have to do to make up for sucking people dry? Is it one for one?"


    "That''s Ivy, not you. That''ll never be you." Nyx looked him dead in the eye and for a moment, he could almost believe her. "You think I''d let you?"


    "Promise?"


    "Promise," she said, intertwining her fingers through his. Nyx leaned her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her.


    "I''m serious. If I become anything like her, you gotta do whatever it takes to kill me before I go too far."


    "You''re so dramatic," she said, swatting him. "It won''t come to that."


    He sighed. A heavy weight sat in his chest. The ocean waves rushed to shore. Foam raced toward the beach in a stampede of white horses.


    "Isn''t this where we kissed for the first time?" he asked.


    "Yeah, like, when we were twelve," she giggled. Nyx tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We both wiped our lips right after, so I''m not sure it still counts?"


    "It counts," he said. "I was terrified."


    "Really? It was your idea, but I''m glad you asked." She kicked at the sand, burying the toes of her canvas sneakers in the soil. "I have something to tell you."


    "Can I ask you something first?"


    "Ah, sure. Go ahead."


    "Do you want to move in with me?"


    She froze and scooched back. "That''s sorta what I wanted to tell you. I claimed that empty red house about a block away from you."


    "Yeah, well, you can un-claim it and come live with me instead," he said.


    Nyx sprung off the log. "You are the most confusing man I have ever met!"


    "I thought this is what you wanted? I thought you''d be happy?" Angel got up to face her.


    She crossed her arms and scowled. "I would have been about twenty-four hours ago, before everything. Then you turn around and tell me it''s none of my business. I know how to take a hint."


    "For someone that thinks so much I can see how it''s hard to believe that I don''t think at all, but it''s true," Angel exclaimed. "I really am that stupid, and impulsive, and reckless and whatever else you must think of me. I''m sorry I said it''s none of your business, ok? You can be CEO if you fucking want to."


    "Angel, stop it." Nyx shook her head in exasperation. "Look, I''ve made up my mind. For the record, I don''t think you''re stupid. You''re very smart actually. That''s why I always expect so much more from you."


    "Well don''t. You''d be a lot less disappointed."


    "Angel -" she sighed. "You''re so ready to throw it all away at a moments notice and I don''t understand why. I think it''ll be better this way. We''re still close, ya know? Closer than we are now even."


    His heart pounded like the floor had dropped away from him altogether.


    She''s slipping away and there''s nothing I can do to stop her. I''ve gone too far this time.


    Nyx uncrossed her arms and sighed. She put her hand on his cheek. Pain slithered under his ribs as it wafted off of her in waves. It was utterly nauseating.


    Does she always hurt like this? Is this my doing?


    His stomach churned and this time, the emotion was his own.


    "I''m not leaving. I''m right here," she said.


    His chest squeezed the breath in his lungs.


    "We''ve gone back and forth since we were fourteen. I''m tired. I''m serious about you. I''ve said as much. It was you that wanted space. So I''m gonna meet you in the middle and stay in my own place and wait for you there."


    "What are you waiting for?" Desperation clawed through his chest. "Tell me and I''ll do it."


    "I want you to love me, ok? There. I said it." She huffed and crossed her arms, sticking her chin out in defiance. "Well?"


    Terror rooted him in place as the world spun around him.


    I can fly out of here, but then what?


    "I - uh -" he stammered.


    "That''s what I thought," she said and looked away. Her eyes cast to the sky as if she watched the seagulls instead.


    All he wanted was to hug her and tell her that, yes, he loved her. Absolutely he did. But he couldn''t.


    He was terrified if she got too close, just close enough to be truly near him, she''d dig her hands deep inside. He wasn''t scared of what she''d dredge up. It didn''t frighten him that she''d wade through some thick, oily goo of rotten thoughts and misjudged deeds, but rather she''d come up empty handed.


    It made him utterly sick to think she could reach into him and find nothing.


    Nyx came to him with all she had and he had nothing to give in return.


    At least she could take his bitter heart. That had some sort of substance, something to sink her teeth into. He didn''t want her to fall into the void in his chest. The shame in his stomach and the pain under his ribs was something to hang onto. So he clung to it as some type of proof he had a solid form.


    Nyx sniffed. "I''ll see ya around."


    She turned away and he wanted to reach for her.


    Say the words idiot, just say the fucking words. That''s literally all you have to do. It''s not even like you don''t mean it.


    He couldn''t will himself to do it. The sincerity was the worst part.


    Can''t Nyx see she has every piece of me? Isn''t that enough?


    So he let her go. He watched her climb the rocks, much slower this time than she had going down, until she was out of sight.

 Chapter Eleven: What A Day

    Nyx''s heart hurt too much to contain in her human form. If she lingered any longer, she feared she''d burst. The wheels of her skateboard ground against the lumpy pavement, skittering over the shallow cracks on her way home. She swerved, careful to avoid the deeper potholes and stones this time.


    Once home, she darted into the shed, her skateboard tucked under her arm and placed it to the side of the door. With shaking hands, Nyx pulled off her clothing. She folded them carefully and placed them in a stack on the table.


    A sharp ripple tip-toed along her spine. A lit firecracker ignited each vertebra on its way up. She folded inward. Dissolving. Her human flesh melted away, leaving a red fox in its place. Nyx nudged open the door with her nose and bounded out into the yard.


    The colour was all but drained from the world, leaving it in graying hues of faded green and a palette of white and grey. Instead, it came alive through sound and scent.


    Her senses only altered when in her fox body. She didn''t know how Angel tolerated the onslaught of sensations on such a constant basis. No wonder it was hard for him to focus if he were being pulled in so many directions at once.


    Grasshoppers scattered. She sprinted through backyards, accidently disrupting chickens in their runs and startled dogs. There was no particular destination in mind, simply running for the sake of it - running until she was too exhausted to feel anything at all.


    A few hours later, Nyx returned home, shifted back and dressed again. The run had taken the edge off, but her chest still ached.


    There''s still room to change my mind. Maybe I should, but if I''m being honest with myself, I don''t want to.


    No more bending. Not when she was this close to breaking. If they were to stay together, even as they were, she had to maintain this distance. He''d either meet her where she stood... or not.


    Nyx left the shed and headed toward Aiden and Daisy''s house. There wasn''t far to go as the couple only lived across the street from her parents. Along with Julian, and her own parents, they had been some of the first to settle the island two decades ago.


    Their small russet coloured house was surrounded by wild flowers and bird feeders. A stone pathway wound up to the front door. Small white butterflies fluttered from the heads of thistles and milkweed.


    Nyx knocked once on the crisp white door before letting herself in. The house smelled of burning sandalwood. Crossing the threshold put her at ease immediately. Taking full, deep breaths for the first time in a long time.


    "Hey, anyone home?" she called from the front porch and slowly walked toward the living room. "I hate to bug you, but I need a favour."


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    "We''re in here," Aiden called and Nyx joined them in the living room.


    Daisy immediately got to her feet from where she had been sitting on the couch. Her long tie-dyed skirt swished around her bare feet as she rushed to greet Nyx. Long micro-locs hung to her waist, undone and dyed light pink along the bottom.


    She hauled Nyx into her chest for a hug. "Oh, you poor thing. I can''t imagine."


    "What do you mean?" Nyx asked. Despite the fear in Daisy''s voice, a hug from the empath was an instant balm. Nyx relaxed into the older woman''s arms. Her presence was too soothing. It felt so counter to Daisy''s own distress. "What happened?"


    "We heard that Aluminum Carl... that Angel..." Daisy''s voice cracked.


    "We heard Angel died," said Aiden. He remained seated on the couch, his blue eyes wide and staring. "Is it true?"


    "What? No!" Nyx exclaimed, waving her hands in the air in front of her as if she could erase the concept altogether. "He lost a fight. That''s all. It looked a lot worse than it is and I guess some blabber mouths are spreading rumors. Where did you hear such a thing?"


    "Timmy," said Daisy. She sniffed and joined her husband on the couch again.


    Nyx rolled her eyes. Of course it''s Timmy.


    "No one has seen Angel all day, so we believed it," said Aiden. The news had aged him ten years. Shallow frown creases on his normally smooth face had deepened. He put a hand through his wavy auburn hair to push the limp strands out of his face. "We better tell Julian. He was losing his mind. We all were."


    "Where is he then?" Daisy asked.


    "The beach," said Nyx.


    Aiden burst into laughter. "The beach? We''re all worried sick, and the boy is relaxing at the beach? Unbelievable." He shook his head in disbelief and got to his feet, still chuckling.


    Nyx stepped aside so Aiden could go into the kitchen to use the telephone. She sunk into the overstuffed armchair. Their living-room wasn''t as eclectic as most on the island. Every item had been chosen with a purpose and theme. From the multicoloured rugs on the hardwood, to the maroon curtains at the window. The burnt orange wallpaper glowed soft in the light from the salt lamp. Plump cushioned furniture was complemented by hard wooden frames and edges.


    "Please don''t be mad at him," Nyx said.


    Daisy tucked some of her braids behind her ear, exposing a row of glittering earrings. She reached for a tea cup on the coffee table. "It won''t kill him to face some consequences." She quirked a well manicured eyebrow. "There''s something you''re not saying."


    Sweat formed on Nyx''s palms and she wiped them on the front of her jeans. "It''s nothing."


    Daisy put her cup on the tiny matching plate with a clink and rested it on the coffee table. "What happened last night? People wouldn''t be saying Angel is dead if he only got slightly bruised."


    "He''s resilient -"


    "Try again."


    "I''m moving out," Nyx blurted, hoping replacing one truth with another would be enough of a distraction. "That''s what you''re picking up. Angel didn''t want me to move in with him, so I decided to get my own cabin. Now he''s changed his mind."


    Daisy leaned back into the cushions, narrowing her eyes.


    Nyx clenched her jaw. Her fingernails bit into the palm of her hand.


    "I let my abilities get ahead of me," Daisy sighed. "It''s the stress. If you''re not saying something, that''s fine. Whatever it is, it seems to be troubling you deeply."


    "Please don''t take it personally," said Nyx. "It''s not my place to tell you."


    "That''s fair," said Daisy with a slight nod. She took another sip of her tea. "Did you need Aiden''s portals to help you move?"


    "Yes please," said Nyx. She exhaled in relief. "I''d really appreciate it."


    Aiden came back from the kitchen, whistling in awed surprise. "Boy, is Julian pissed. I called your mom and dad too. Turns out Cassie already set them straight. I hope Angel is having a wonderful time at the beach." He plunked onto the couch. "What a day."

 Chapter Twelve: The Shadow Of A Shark

    When the ferry finally docked, and the all-clear was given to disembark, Alistair raced for the shore, practically dragging Kismet behind him. Their sneakers pounded on the wooden planks as they ran, weaving in and out of frustrated pedestrians. Some cursed him by name.


    She barely had a moment to take in her new surroundings. Most of the people they ran through looked disgruntled, but average enough. Others had horns, scales or even wings. They glared at them with red, yellow or purple eyes and pupils in the shape of slits or rectangles. Someone whacked her with a thick lizard tail.


    "Watch where you''re going!" The lizardman called after them.


    When they finally reached the shore, Alistair let go of her hand and she had a moment to absorb the view and catch her breath. The air was lighter here; fewer thoughts were floating on the wind compared to the heart of the city. It didn''t strain her as much to shut them out.


    The small terminal was a squat wooden structure no bigger than a house. The parking-lot was packed full with the vehicles of workers and travelers alike. Trucks lined up expectantly near the mouth of the dock Kismet had just sprinted away from, their tarps rolled down from the top to allow crates to be stacked inside.


    Forklifts delivered pallets teeming with wooden crates and barrels while workers steadily unloaded them, taking them to the trucks. Some were able to carry the large boxes with apparent ease. One person even levitated a crate a few feet ahead of them as they walked.


    "Ok," said Alistair, still huffing for a full breath. "If he''s not here, there''s one spot I''d like to check first. I''m really sorry about dragging you all around like this."


    "I understand," Kismet said. "This is more important."


    He lamented letting his sister Cassie borrow the car. Now they''d have to walk. Kismet never learned to drive and was much more accustomed to going by foot than Alistair seemed to be.


    The journey wasn''t far. After leaving the port, they wove through a warren of residential lots with neat little homes splashed with vibrant colours. It seemed no one here ever mowed their lawns. They were all completely overgrown, allowing bees and butterflies to hover around the blooming wild flowers. Some kept more manicured garden beds tucked amongst the long grass and weeds, but they were few and far between.


    The community gardens seemed to be more common, with one at the end of every few blocks. Each was filled to bursting with plants.


    A young woman stooped, examining a cluster of tomatoes. Kismet almost didn''t see her through the mass of rich foliage. Her gentle fingers grazed the flesh of a green tomato and it ripened at her touch. A crown of small pink and white flowers rested on her head, complimenting her flowing brown and white dress. Dark brown hair fell freely over her shoulders and down her back. Even her energy seemed to be as warm and soft as summer top-soil.


    "Hi," she smiled at Alistair. "You''re in an awful hurry."


    "Hey Blossom, have you seen Angel around?" he asked.


    "Not since last night," she said. "But I heard -"


    "And?" Alistair asked.


    "Cassie told me he''s ok. After the fight I was certain -" Blossom took a breath. Magenta sparks flashed through her olive-green aura.


    Mauve pulses of relief rippled from Alistair. "What happened?"


    "I was fire-spinning with Cass," she explained. "I didn''t see much -"


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    As Blossom began to explain, images of a crowded space strobed in Kismet''s mind. Some sort of warehouse... no... a barn. The music was loud, but so was the cheering. Exhilaration. Her eyes tracked nothing but fire as it twirled on the end of the staff in her hands. A loud punch. The crowd erupted. Then silence. Blood. Screaming. Her dance partner stopped spinning beside her, then jumped off the edge of the stage, rushing for the ring of hay bales... A man being lifted by two women, one being her dance partner... The man was awash in blood...


    "You ok?" Blossom asked, concern in her grey eyes. "You look pale."


    "I''m fine," Kismet said and cleared her throat.


    "I''m Blossom by the way," she said and Kismet shook her hand. Hot cocoa and almonds. She smelled freshly ground coffee.


    "Kismet."


    "Sorry your introduction to the island is a little bit unconventional," said Blossom.


    "I''m just glad everything is ok," said Kismet. Her voice was flat and distant. Exhausted. The black bags under her eyes almost had a physical weight. The world pushed backward, and she went with it.


    Both Alistair and Blossom blurred into a blob of colour. Alistair shifted into a golden haze, while Blossom turned the shade of unripe grapes. The world erupted into a network of ribbons weaving a maze between each other.


    She struggled to understand anything they said. The tone of their muffled words lilted in concerned discussion. Nausea made her vision swim and Kismet put herself on the ground before her body did it for her.


    The world erupted into a burst of neon colour. Kismet looked to the sky, through the knitted ropes of emotion, squinting to avoid the sunlight.


    A human shaped figure passed beneath it, momentarily casting her in the shadow of their outstretched wings. They swooped, and neared the earth. Their colour was navy blue, with wings like massive flames.


    She couldn''t speak or move. Completely frozen. Thoughts raced so fast, they became a blur of nothing, and her body became lead. So panic stricken, her mind retreated, simply observing the events around her while her chest heaved rapid breaths.


    The blue blob landed, tucking in their wings. They were taller than the Blossom-blob but shorter than the Alistair-blob. They burbled between Alistair and Blossom, then reached for her.


    Kismet fought the urge to scream, to tell them this would pass if she could just sleep for a moment or even get a granola bar - The blue-blob lifted her. She braced herself for the onslaught of memories and thoughts, but none came.


    The blob held her close.


    The sudden silence in her head was a shock. For the first time in her life, the constant low drone of white noise clicked completely off. Relief was nearly as overwhelming as any psychic onslaught.


    In a flourish, two large wings erupted from the blue-blob in a burst of whisping blue flame. They enveloped her, flapping, ripping through the astral ribbons in a burst of colour like flicking the end of a paint brush. The grip the blob held on her tightened as they jumped, the wings stroked the air, lifting them both higher.


    I must be dreaming. Real life can''t feel this good. This... empty. Maybe I didn''t leave Kevin after all and I''ll wake up in my own bed.


    There was a routine back home. Out here was uncertainty. The ground shrunk below her as the blue-blob carried her into the sky on their wings made of smoke.


    Yes. I''ll wake up in my own bed and go to work like nothing happened. There wouldn''t even be a need to confront Kevin. What do I know? I''m a little crazy sometimes.


    The blob''s edges crisped and took the shape of a man. His eyes were like the sky above them. So sharp - clear ice over the ocean. Though his long black hair was tied back in a pony-tail, the front pieces had come loose, blowing around his face.


    Only now could she feel him, and even then, Kismet had to admit it wasn''t without actually trying. His aura was like heavy ozone before thunder. She struggled to reestablish her thin barriers to no success. Her head pounded. It was like standing beside the sea after a storm, there was something magnetic pulling at her own essence. A dark tint lurked beneath the water, the way the shadow of a shark slips under the waves.


    Without thinking, she withdrew. The sudden shift caused him to falter and he angled his black wings accordingly. Kismet gawked up at them as they beat the sky.


    "Settle down lady, I don''t want to drop ya," he said. "Are you feeling better?"


    "Where are you taking me?" she asked. A thousand other questions ripped through her mind. For once, her own thoughts were the only ones occupying her skull.


    "To Daisy," he said. "Alistair said you''re a telepath. We don''t have any on the island, so Daisy is the next best thing. She''ll sort you out."


    "Why - Why can''t I read your mind?"


    "You can''t?" He seemed slightly surprised, or perhaps amused. It was difficult to distinguish which.


    Kismet furrowed her brow, suddenly realizing how little she understood of facial expressions and body language. It had never occurred to her how reliant she had been on her ability to read energy instead.


    "No, I don''t think so. Not unless I try."


    He grinned. "That''s better than most can pull off."

 Chapter Thirteen: Nice Of You To Show Your Face

    Angel landed in Daisy''s yard and placed the new girl on the ground. Her baggy grey hoodie just about swallowed her whole. The sleeves drooped over her hands. Round hazel eyes peered out from under the hood, and light brown ringlets framed her face. Her intensity reminded Angel of the time he spooked a raccoon. The animal looked at him in much the same, suspicious way.


    He pulled his wings inside, then grabbed his crumpled shirt from his back pocket and shrugged it on.


    Butterflies flitted amongst the blooming wildflowers. Chubby bumblebees buzzed through the dense rose bushes in the garden. Angel led the way down the stone path to the front door and Kismet tagged along a few feet behind.


    She walked as if she were fast asleep, moving with the fluid certainty of a dream. Her energy moved in dual waves. One sat on the surface, running like rapids in furious, panicked motion while the other, deeper stream held steady and vast. He had no idea what to make of that, or her.


    It was really none of his business, but the girl intrigued him.


    "What brings you to the island?" He asked.


    "My powers get... they''re a lot."


    "Why didn''t you come sooner? You know, as a kid?"


    Kismet tensed. "I''m here now."


    When Alistair had told him she was a telepath, at first he had been anxious. The thought of someone digging around in his head was horrifying, but he had to trust that she wouldn''t. Though her abilities were so obviously out of control, Angel was relieved he seemed to be resistant.


    It also confirmed Cassie''s theory, but also gave him more questions.


    It''s strange how a body resistant to energy abilities would somehow develop energy abilities. It explains how my powers were repressed for so long, but I still didn''t know how they got there.


    Daisy opened the door, ushering them inside. They were immediately greeted by the warm scent of freshly burned sage. Even though Daisy''s empathic abilities could have no influence on Angel, he still found Daisy''s house to be a space of calm. Now, he could see why. It was not just her abilities, but her essence itself that went into maintaining the energetic integrity of her home. It was right down to the choices in furniture, and knick-knacks, and where she decided to place them.


    "And who is this?" Daisy asked. The woman''s life-force radiated a steady wave of vibrant citrus and rustic oak.


    "Kismet," said the girl, shaking Daisy''s hand.


    They followed Daisy into the living room. The tall, slender woman sunk into the overstuffed couch and crossed her legs. Her effortless elegance made any piece of furniture beneath her look like a throne. The hazy orange light of the salt lamp cast her smooth dark skin in a soft glow.


    Angel slouched in the arm-chair and Kismet perched on a wicker poof, unable to take her eyes off the older woman.


    The sharpness in Kismet''s eye vanished and she visibly relaxed. Angel was slightly jealous. He often wished Daisy could change his emotions, but he was also thankful no one could have that kind of control.


    "Alistair found her on the mainland," he explained. "She needs help with her powers."


    Kismet didn''t look up from the ground. "I didn''t know what else to do."


    "Why not The Academy?" Daisy asked.


    "I feel silly now, but Ivy made me nervous," said Kismet. "I thought if I could come here then, well, I don''t know exactly what I was thinking to be honest. I''m so sorry to be causing such a fuss. I would have just gone to The Academy, but -"


    "It shouldn''t be a problem," Daisy assured her. "I''m sure it''ll only be a matter of paperwork."


    "What about your powers?" Angel asked Kismet. "How are you going to learn to control them if you don''t go to The Academy?"


    Kismet blanched. "I hadn''t considered that. I was kinda just taking things one step at a time. I guess all I hoped for was somewhere I didn''t have to hide them so much." Her cheeks flushed and she studied the carpet. "I wanted a place where people could understand why I''m the way I am. I''d given up on controlling them a long time ago."


    "Don''t give up yet," Daisy said gently. "When you get settled in, I''ll do my best to help you. I''m self taught, so I''m not sure how much I can really contribute to what you already know. If you like, come see me when you''re ready and we''ll give it a try?"


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    "That would be wonderful," Kismet exclaimed. She smiled for the first time since Angel first met her. It lit up her eyes and dimpled her cheeks.


    "It''s settled," said Daisy, clasping her hands together. Then her eyes landed on Angel. "Julian isn''t pleased with you."


    Angel shifted uncomfortably. "I heard. When is he ever?"


    "We were worried sick about you," Daisy said.


    Normally, he was adept at shrugging off concerned sentiments, but this time the waves of grief enveloped him. Every needle prick stuck inside his chest as if it were his own.


    "I didn''t think it was -"


    "Exactly." Daisy narrowed her eyes. "You didn''t think. That''s your problem, but you don''t want my advice. You never have."


    "I suppose you''re going to give it to me anyway?"


    "I''ve told you enough times by now. I won''t waste my breath." With a dismissive wave of her hand, she said, "Take Kismet to Julian for the papers. We''ll bring her case to the council and let Watcher Liz decide. The sooner you start the process, the sooner we can get it over with."


    "Is there a chance she''ll say no?" Kismet asked.


    Angel jumped, having nearly forgotten she was there.


    "I doubt it," said Daisy, "but this situation hasn''t happened before." She laughed. "We have an island full of people with miraculous abilities and we still can''t be rid of bureaucracy."


    After saying their good-byes, Angel and Kismet set out to Julian''s house.


    Angel went to remove his shirt, and Kismet stepped back.


    "Can we walk?"


    "Ah - Sure," he said, and let it go. "You''re gonna need a place to stay. Do you have any plans?"


    Kismet followed him down the sidewalk. "Is there a hostel? Like the one in Happsburg?"


    "Unfortunately, no."


    "Why not?"


    "Ivy gets too much of a say. We don''t really like her help around here."


    "Not even to heal people?" She hurried to keep up with his long strides.


    "What people do on the mainland is up to them," said Angel. "We have a doctor here on the island and make-do."


    After a few blocks, they arrived at Angel''s childhood home. The brown house was almost a perfect square if it wasn''t for the sun porch jutting into the lawn. Brambles over took the garden below the window. Their scraggly branches sprawled up the siding and they fought the weeds for space.


    Angel led the way to the door. This time, he didn''t bother to knock and let himself in. Every light in the house was on, but it still seemed dark around the edges somehow. Dust motes always floated in the sun beams coming through the window no matter how clean the house was.


    "In here," Julian called from the kitchen.


    A light crackle of electricity, like static in the air, made the hair on his arms stand up.


    "I think you should wait," said Angel to Kismet.


    She nodded in agreement and sat on the couch, seeming relieved.


    He walked through the living-room toward the sound of his voice to the kitchen. Julian hunched over the table, tinkering with the exposed guts of a radio. He didn''t bother to look up, twisting the screw-driver into the machine with every ounce of his focus.


    "Nice of you to show your face," he grumbled. "Timmy had us all thinking the worst this morning."


    "I heard," said Angel. "I''m sorry."


    "Not good enough!" he bellowed, banging both fists on the table. The tiny screws jumped and some skittered off the table onto the floor. His ruddy skin turned even redder beneath his coarse beard.


    "What do you want me to do then? Grovel?" Angel snapped. "I said I''m sorry, I didn''t actually die, what more do you want?"


    The burly man got to his feet like a boulder shifting. "I want you to grow up. You can''t keep living like this forever. Aluminum Carl? Seriously?" Julian moved in closer and Angel smelled beer on his breath. "Do you have a death wish?"


    "I needed the money -"


    "You wouldn''t if you''d spend it more wisely and quit blowing it all on drinks."


    Angel clenched his jaw, curling his fist at his side.


    Julian laughed. "You think you''re gonna hit me?" He stepped closer and Angel flinched. "That''s what I thought."


    "I''m not the only one that''s been drinking," Angel said, looking toward the empty cans on the countertop.


    "I get to," Julian snarled, jabbing a finger at his chest.


    Angel stepped back after each until he felt the edge of the counter dig into his spine.


    "There''s never a moment''s peace with you. Ember and I had plans for this place." Bitter tears shimmered in Julian''s eyes.


    This was the only time Angel ever heard Julian speak of his mother - when he was absolutely piss drunk, but still, he clung to every word.


    "I lost her, and all my dreams with her. Then you come along to really seal the deal."


    Angel''s heart lodged in the bottom of his throat, choking him. Julian''s energy filled the room. Cold disappointment and dark pits of dejection. He''d heard it all before. Julian usually apologized later - but this time, Angel felt his father meant every single word.


    "Fuck you."


    Without further thought, Angel marched into the living room. He couldn''t look Kismet in the eye.


    "Come on, we''re leaving."


    She hopped off the sofa and hurried after him. The door slammed at their backs.


    "I''m so sorry -" she began as they marched across the lawn.


    "You can come back tomorrow. He''ll be in a better mood once he gets some sleep, and I promise he''ll be a hell of a lot nicer to you than he is to me." Despite himself, Angel sniffed and he cursed under his breath. "I''m sorry you had to see that. We''ll figure out somewhere for you to stay in the meantime. Nyx has a cabin now and -"


    Kismet caught up to him, gently touching his elbow so he''d stop walking. "You didn''t deserve that."


    "What do you know?" he snapped, then sighed, shame immediately turned his stomach. "I''m sorry. I mean, I do deserve it. He''s right. I''m useless. I just keep fucking up. Now even Nyx is fed up with me, Daisy too and -" Flashes of blue light, blood and pain, obscured his mind''s eye. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if stopping tears was the same as a nosebleed.


    Unable to withstand the pressure, he nearly burst. Angel pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, desperate to push the tears back inside.


    "I''m sorry, I''ve just had a day," he said, hating the cracking sobs in his voice and how heavy his chest felt.


    Kismet did not let go of his arm. "You can cry," she said softly.


    Angel crumpled, unable to stop himself. Torn between mortifying embarrassment and relief, he buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Kismet stood by his side in silence. She maintained a gentle hand on his arm. He wanted to pull away, but couldn''t bring himself to do it.


    Finally, the tears subsided and he wiped his face with his hands. He couldn''t look at her. Instead, he continued down the side walk toward Nyx''s new cabin.

 Chapter Fourteen: As Good As It Gets

    Nyx slumped on the couch, dangling her legs over the arm, exhausted, but it was her couch, in her living room, in her house.


    Aiden''s portal had made her move easier than it would have been otherwise. With the help of their parents, she and Cassie had spent the afternoon shoving Nyx''s belongings through the swirling purple and black portal to her new home.


    Sharing a room with her sister had not afforded Nyx much opportunity to gather furniture or household items of her own. It killed her to do it, but she spent a large chunk of her savings filling in the gaps. There would always be more shifts at the market.


    Still, after everything, her house was sparse. She reminded herself there was all the time in the world to fill it with whatever she wanted.


    Arranging things once they arrived via Aiden''s portal had taken the most effort. She''d have to enlist Angel''s help in moving the furniture.


    A pounding rap at the door interrupted her celebratory cigarette. It was too loud and obnoxious not to be Angel.


    "It''s open," she called. Her stomach did summersaults, hoping things would not be awkward between them after the discussion on the beach.


    Angelus stepped inside as she expected, but was surprised to see a young woman trailing behind him. The woman nibbled the cuffs of her sleeves. Her eyes drank in everything all at once.


    Nyx sat up, tapping her cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table.


    "Nice place," Angel said, looking around the living room.


    She frowned. "Have you been crying?"


    "Nope," he said.


    "I know when you''ve been crying." Nyx got up and narrowed her eyes, examining him.


    "Clearly, you don''t. This is Kismet," he continued, gesturing to the wisp of a woman behind him. "Alistair found her on the mainland and she needs somewhere to stay. I figured since you got this place all to yourself and all, maybe she could stay with you?"


    Nyx crossed her arms. "Don''t you have a place all to yourself?"


    "Yeah, but I didn''t think you''d love the idea. I can''t even look at a woman sideways -"


    "Sure. Looking is the issue, I''m that insecure-" The heat rose in her voice and she caught herself, not wanting to fight in front of a stranger, especially not about this. It wasn''t this poor girl''s fault.


    "I''m sorry," said Kismet. "I''ll find somewhere else to go. You''ve been more than helpful already."


    "No, no," said Nyx. She sighed. "You can stay."


    Nyx glared at Angel, but softened as she turned to Kismet. Guilt swirled in her stomach.


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    It''s not fair to put this girl in the middle of our bickering. She hasn''t done anything to deserve being drug into our mess.


    "You''re welcome to stay with me," said Nyx.


    With the matter apparently settled, Angel moved past them to the kitchen. "Did you get any food in here yet?"


    "Yes, but not a lot," Nyx exclaimed and hurried after him. Everything was pre-planned and portioned - Angel would eat all of it if he had half a chance.


    Angel stooped to properly scan the shelves of her fridge.


    "Get out -" Nyx began, but Kismet stared at them. It occurred to Nyx that she was most likely hungry as well. "Has anyone fed you yet?"


    Kismet shook her head.


    "Ok, fine," Nyx sighed. She nudged Angel out of the way and brought the chicken out of the fridge. "I''ll make supper."


    Angel pecked her on the cheek. "You''re the best."


    "Can I help?" Kismet asked. "It''s the least I can do."


    "You can help me with the carrots if you want," Nyx said. She pointed to Angel before he could escape into the living room. "You peel the potatoes."


    He sighed, but didn''t protest otherwise. Supper didn''t take long to prepare with the three of them working together.


    When it was done, they sat at the table to eat. The pine wood was chipped and stained and the chair wobbled under her at the slightest shift in position.


    "Where''s your stuff?" Nyx asked, realizing Kismet hadn''t arrived with a bag.


    She didn''t look away from her plate. A stubborn pea rolled away from the prod of the fork. "I didn''t bring anything except my CD player."


    "That''s all?" Angel gasped. "Not even clothes?"


    Nyx''s stomach tightened, wishing Angelus wouldn''t be so blunt. She was ashamed for lamenting the few items she had earlier.


    What could possibly make someone run from everything they''ve ever known, with only the clothes on their back?


    She wouldn''t dare ask.


    "I can share," said Nyx. "It''s not a problem."


    "Thank you," Kismet said, still fixing her eyes on the peas.


    After supper, Angel excused himself for the evening, but Nyx followed him outside. The setting sun painted the sky the colour of a ripe plum with a gold haze on the horizon. A warm breeze kissed her bare arms.


    He''d already stripped his shirt off and was part way down the front walkway when she managed to catch up to him.


    "I''m sorry about the beach earlier," she said. "I''m not trying to hurt you."


    "I know," he said, turning to look at her.


    The balmy wind blew his hair into a tangled mess and stirred the wild flowers on the lawn. A butterfly floated between them, flitting greedily from one bloom to the other.


    "What is this?" Nyx asked. "What are we doing?"


    "I dunno, you tell me," he snapped. "I asked you to move in, exactly what you wanted a day ago, and you said no. The ball really is in your court here."


    She reached for his hand, twisting her fingers between his. "I love you and I know you love me too."


    He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped.


    "Are you going to deny it?"


    His eyes met hers, wounded. "I could never," he muttered. The skin of his cheek pulsed. "If you already know, then what''s the problem? Why do we need to talk about it?"


    "Because I need commitment."


    "But I said you could move in -" he began, but she interrupted.


    "My worst fear came true last night, and in the blink of an eye, I realized I''d have to live the rest of my life without you. I thought maybe you''d be ready to stop, but the first thing you wanted to do was learn to use your powers to fight. I can''t stand around and watch you throw your life away on drunken whims anymore."


    "What do you want from me?" he exclaimed, tossing his hands in frustration. "You know who I am better than anyone. This is it. There''s nothing else. There''s nothing under this. So you can finally stop waiting for me to change because the person you think you love doesn''t exist. I''m not going to wake up one day and decide to be someone different, so get over it."


    "I don''t want you to be different, I need you to be better!"


    His blue eyes hardened, sharp as flint. "I hate to tell you this, but this is as good as it gets."


    In a flourish he extended his wings. She had no choice but to step back and give him space. Angel beat his wings against the sky, crouched and jumped, catching the wind under his feathers.


    She looked up and watched him go.

 Chapter Fifteen: Do Princesses Miss Their Towers?

    The stick crashed against the drum kit, splattering droplets of neon colours through the air like cotton-candy confetti. Kismet watched Nyx play as one would stare at a galaxy twisting through the sky. Each note pulsed a vibrant wave.


    There was no seating in this room yet. Just drums. Kismet scrunched up, her back to the wall. A woub woub woub sensation throbbed into her bones.


    After a quick shower, Nyx had loaned Kismet some pajamas - a graphic t-shirt and flannel pants. Nyx was a much taller and more voluptuous woman than herself, and Kismet disappeared inside her clothing.


    Kismet did her best to keep out of Nyx''s head, but her thoughts were so loud. At least the drums were louder. The song was all heartbreak and rage, splashing crimson into the air. The pain was too much like her own, like a double dose of bitter anguish. It didn''t sit well on the stomach.


    She closed her eyes and slid to the floor, lying on her back like a lizard in the sun. It was all so surreal, how she could be one person one day, and then live a completely different life the next. Despite herself, she missed Kevin. Movies told her she shouldn''t. If they were to be believed, she should be ripping up photographs about now.


    Maybe leaving like this is worse. Maybe I''ll show up a year from now like a ghost just to haunt him - or apologize. One or the other.


    The weight of the drumbeats lifted, even though the song itself hardly changed. There was something in the sensation like ice on a burn. There was still pain, but it was blunted. Nyx stopped playing and stood up.


    "You alright down there?" she asked Kismet, extending her hand.


    Kismet took it and Nyx helped her up. Her touch was like dark cherries.


    "You play very well."


    "Not really, but thank you," said Nyx.


    "You don''t need to be modest," said Kismet. "Do you play in a band?"


    The two girls went down stairs to the living-room, going single file to watch the narrow steps.


    "No," said Nyx. "Just with Angel." She plopped onto the couch and Kismet sat in the armchair. Nyx had also changed into her pajamas and tied her hair into a little pony-tail. "If you can read minds, why do you bother with questions?"


    "I like getting to know people the normal way," said Kismet. "It''s rude to invade someone''s mind."


    "Yeah, I suppose so," said Nyx with a slight nod. "It''s nice of you to be so considerate."


    "It''s partially selfish," she confessed. "There''s a lot of things people don''t say out loud that a person is better off not knowing."


    "I wish I could read Angel''s mind," Nyx grumbled. She perked, looking to Kismet. "Did you happen to get anything? Even on accident?"


    Kismet shook her head. "My ability doesn''t seem to work on him, or, well, not in the way it does with other people. Most of the time, my abilities are kinda all over the place, coming and going in intensity. With him, I have to actually think about what I''m doing, or he has to make physical contact before I can even get a hint of his emotions."


    "Are you sure your abilities don''t work on him?" Nyx asked.


    "Pretty sure," Kismet said, and waited for Nyx to elaborate, but was met with an interested sigh and nothing more.


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    Nyx made the couch into a bed for Kismet with a throw blanket and a cushion. She clicked out the light on her way through.


    "I''m really sorry I don''t have anywhere more comfortable for you to sleep," said Nyx as she brought in a glass of water.


    "Well, I''m sorry to be sprung on you like this," said Kismet. She laid on the couch, curling onto her side under the blanket. "I didn''t intend to... I didn''t think things through. I''ve been on my own before, and I figured I could do it again if I had to. I just... I''m so stupid."


    "I don''t think you''re stupid at all," said Nyx. She sat down in the arm chair across from Kismet. Her eyes seemed to glow in the soft stream of street lamp cutting between the curtains. "I think you''re brave. I can''t imagine leaving everything behind like that. You must have a damn good reason."


    "I like to think I do," said Kismet quietly. "Sometimes I''m not so sure. I can be sensitive. Maybe I overreacted." She recalled Kevin''s memories of Jane and wanted to cry, laugh or scream - maybe all of it at once. "I found out he cheated on me when I accidentally read his mind."


    It was strange to say it out loud.


    "Fuck, that''s rough," Nyx sighed. "I don''t blame you one bit. I''m sorry about earlier by the way. Angel and I have some differences of opinion to work through."


    "You don''t need to apologize to me about it," said Kismet. "I''m the one imposing."


    "It''s fine, really. Don''t worry about it."


    Nyx excused herself to bed, and Kismet stared at the blank wall. For a window in time she had been happy. There was a sweet spot only visible in hindsight. It was a time before Kevin. When she thought she was lonely. Before she knew what loneliness was.


    Kismet had been working in the bookstore for a few months. It was quiet. She lived alone, surrounded and swallowed by her books and CDs. Each night she went to bed with stories of princes and knights in her head and she''d dream of a time some young nobleman would come to sweep her away.


    That''s when Kevin found her.


    Do the princesses ever miss their towers? They never speak about what happens once the prince takes her home. What does a coveted treasure become when it''s possessed? Never spoken of again. That''s what.


    Sleep came far faster than she expected. This dream was not her own. At first, she thought it was a remnant of Blossom''s memories.


    It was the same place, but the perspective was different. A barn in darkness, lit only by multicoloured strobe lights. She wasn''t on stage, but on the edge of the crowd instead. Fuming and utterly furious. It was difficult to see over top of everyone, but she tried.


    Bones broke, snapping like dry branches. There was so much blood... when Angel hit the ground her heart stopped... They were in the car, and she pressed into his chest as hard as she could... An unfulfilled lifetime of dashed dreams and wishes flashed before her eyes... Then the blue light came and Angel sat up with horrified eyes.


    A scream woke Kismet with a start. It was Nyx.


    Maybe I should see if she''s alright? We hardly know each other, but what does it matter at this point? It wouldn''t hurt to knock at least.


    The stairs creaked as she made her way to the second floor. Nyx peeked her head out of the bedroom door before she got all the way up.


    "It''s ok, I''m alright," Nyx assured her. "It''s my first night here and I guess I''m a little homesick."


    Still groggy from the dream, Kismet blinked. "What happened to Angel?"


    "Pardon?"


    "Your dream. I''m sorry. It just sorta happens sometimes when I sleep near people."


    "Oh," Nyx chuckled, but the sound was hollow. "My dreams get a little much sometimes. I''m ok now."


    Deep plumb ripples of deceit pulsed through Nyx''s aura, but Kismet didn''t challenge her on it. Even if Nyx was hiding something, it wasn''t her place to question it. Still, she wondered.


    Everyone had been so convinced Angel was dead. In the vision, he was dead. The man she had met earlier looked like he didn''t have so much as a black eye. Granted, not that unusual for a mutant, but the reactions of those around him didn''t make her believe they had expected a full recovery. So this power, whatever that blue light was, must be new.


    Kismet waved good-night to Nyx. That flash of light lingered in her mind. It was familiar, but she couldn''t place it - Not until she laid down on the couch with her headphones over her ears.


    That light was like Ivy''s.


    Kismet had seen the pale woman heal people on television often enough. She''d fill whole stadiums with people - mutant and human alike - They''d come with chronic, debilitating or even terminal illnesses, and she''d heal as many as she could in pulsating blue waves. In the beginning, these healing conventions had caused riots as people clamoured for the headmaster''s favor, but Ivy would depart, healing no one. They were now a much more organized, systemic affair.


    She rolled over on her side, shutting her eyes and focused on the music.


    Yep, that light really is none of my business.

 Chapter Sixteen: No Good With Moderation

    The absence of Nyx''s things made the cabin feel empty. At one time, Angel hated to find her brush left out by the sink, all clumped up with hair, but these pieces of her all strewn about had been like collateral.


    A slight chill hung in the air. He''d left the window open and closed it again with a snap.


    Angel wandered into his kitchen. He checked the fridge. One solitary can of beer stood on the bare shelves and condiments were stacked in the door. The cold light illuminated the dark kitchen. Grabbing the beer, he let the door slam shut on its own and returned to the living room.


    When the beer was gone, he tried to think of something else to do. Normally, he''d go see Nyx and they''d jam together, but that was out of the question. He kicked himself for fighting Carl and ruining things.


    I''ll only hurt her anyway. No matter how hard I try, I won''t be able to hide this power forever. Maybe I don''t even want to?


    Then he thought of Ivy. A harbinger, warning of his future if he pushed too far.


    Angelus looked at his guitar in its stand next to the television, gleaming red in his night-vision and decided to practice without her. He hugged it close. The familiar silk of its glossed body, the tension of the strings under his calloused fingers brought comfort.


    He sat with the guitar in his lap and played. Each pluck of the string vanquished a rogue thought, but Nyx found her way into every note regardless.


    As he played, Angel became aware of the warm life-force that hovered in the air. It was in everything, everywhere all at once, delicate, like the gossamer threads of a spider web.


    How didn''t I notice such a powerful sensation for so long?


    This power was more like an awareness of an already existing element. In much the same way he was capable of perceiving the ultra-violet spectrum, this new sensation simply was.


    The energy had its own flow and rhythm. The beating of a heart or the rise and fall of the breath.


    Angel sat with it. Not commanding, merely observing as he continued to strum. He marvelled at the waves of blue light surging as he played. The energy ebbed with the song, responding to his intensity. It grew until light trailed from the instrument like mist. It surrounded him in a sphere, hovering at the boundary of his skin.


    He consciously drew it into himself as he played, drinking it into his body like a fine wine. It made him almost as delirious.


    If this tiny amount feels this good, I''ll have to build a tolerance.


    When he stopped playing and put his guitar back, the sensation remained. His body had never been so light. It''s not like he had much pain to complain about anyway aside from the usual aches from work. Even the hollow, empty pang in his chest, the constant gnawing anxiety had dissipated.


    Every cell in his body vibrated. He needed action, to get out and do something. He stripped off his shirt and stepped into the night. The fog rolled in, bringing the taste of brine and the scent of seaweed.


    Angel pushed out his wings. Charcoal feathers beat the balmy night air. The flight to the triplet''s house did not take long. He could practically do it in his sleep.


    He hovered by Alistair''s window. This wasn''t his strong suit. His wings were built more for distance and speed, but he could tolerate it a little while. Angel pressed his palm to the glass and pushed it upward. Thankfully it wasn''t locked and shifted easily. The screen had gone missing a long time ago. He slipped inside to find Alistair stooped over his desk, writing on a notepad.


    "Do you ever use the front door?" Alistair asked, not bothering to look up.


    "It''s late, I didn''t want to wake anyone."


    "I don''t count then?"


    "I knew you''d be up."


    Angel flopped onto his best friend''s bed. The room had not changed much over the years. Alistair''s bookshelves were still crammed with paperbacks and comics he''d collected until they overflowed. His desk drowned under cluttered knick-knacks. Milk-crates stuffed full of records were shoved under the record player on its stand.


    Alistair''s energy filled the room, rippling outward and building as he wrote. It was soft, and easy. There was so much of it, but it was not overwhelming. Rather, it was radiant like a hearth fire.


    "Do you wanna do something?" Angel asked, tossing a pillow and catching it over and over again.


    Alistair looked at him, covering his paper with his arm. "Like what?"


    "I dunno, something fun," said Angel. He sat up and peeked at Alistair''s note pad. "Whatcha writing?"


    "Nothing," he said and snapped the notebook closed.


    Angel grinned. "More corny love poems for Blossom?"


    "Shut it," Alistair said, only slightly annoyed. "We can''t all be stoic cynics such as yourself." He spun around in his chair. "I''m thinking we go out to the shed? My car is getting cleaned. I leant it to Cass and she spilled a bunch of wine in the back. She tried to clean it out but there were some gnarly stains."


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    Angel swallowed, his throat suddenly tender. "Uh, yeah, that sounds alright."


    They crept out into the upstairs hall, careful not to wake the others and slipped out through the front door. They made sure to close it softly as they left.


    Crickets and peep toads sung out in the still night air. They tromped through the tall grass around the side of the house toward the shed.


    Alistair pulled the shed door open with a pop and flicked on the over head light. The naked bulb clicked with a light buzz. The far right corner seemed much larger now Nyx''s drums were gone. Angel hadn''t realized how much space they had occupied before.


    He sat at the table while Alistair rummaged through the shelf.


    "Urgh, where did she put it?" Alistair muttered under his breath. "Nyx better not have taken it, I swear. Did you see what she did with my stash?"


    "No," Angel mumbled.


    "Never mind, I got it." He pulled out a small tin and carried it to the table. "I was surprised she wasn''t moving in with you."


    Angel shrugged and averted Alistair''s eyes, picking at the grains of wood on the table instead.


    "She didn''t want to," he said.


    "Did you guys break up again?" He opened the tin and pulled out a joint and a lighter.


    "I''m not sure. She''s tossed me into some kind of purgatory."


    "What did you do this time?" Alistair lit the joint and inhaled.


    "Me?" Angel exclaimed, taking the joint from Alistair. "Why do you always assume it''s my fault?"


    He leaned back and blew smoke rings. "Because it usually is."


    "She wanted to move in with me, but I said no, and then I got into that stupid fight," Angel grumbled. He took another drag off the joint before handing it to Alistair. "I was sorry for it, but the fight made her rethink things, so when I told her I changed my mind, she had already claimed the cabin."


    "Just give her a minute, she''ll cool down," Alistair said. "She''s forgiven you loads of times before."


    "I don''t think she will this time. I really fucked up." Angel examined the design on the worn out tin. He scratched and peeled at the faded label. A rolled up bag of weed crammed inside the tin, squashed alongside a couple of small pipes and discarded lighters. "Then she asked me to love her and I said nothing."


    "Dude," Alistair gasped. "You''re gonna fix this, right?"


    "I don''t know if I can." Angel recalled the look of horror in Nyx''s eyes, the way she cried against his chest, the hurt, the rage. His stomach dropped.


    "You gotta stop leading her on," said Alistair. "If you don''t want a serious relationship, that''s fine, but you gotta say so."


    Tension squeezed his chest into a vice.


    Either way I look at it, I''m gonna lose her. I''ll fuck it all up somehow.


    "That''s not what I want either. I just - I dunno."


    Alistair sighed. "Look, I try to keep out of it and I don''t like to choose sides, but at the end of the day, she''s my sister. It''s pretty difficult to hear her cry and not be mad at you."


    Angel''s heart stung. The waves of frustration and grief emanating off Alistair made him want to turn inside out.


    "Everything is so much more complicated now."


    "I think you''re making it more complicated than it needs to be," said Alistair.


    Angel sighed and picked the skin around the edges of his fingernails. He watched it heal again with tears blurring his eyes. He still hadn''t wrapped his head around it.


    "I really did die last night." The words tasted sour in his mouth.


    It was only for a few minutes. Does it even still count?


    "What do you mean you died?" Alistair exclaimed.


    "I fought Aluminum Carl and he kicked the absolute shit outta me," Angel explained. As he spoke, the pain in his ribs recurred, sharp and vivid. "Nyx and Cass pulled me out of the ring and tried to take me to the clinic and... and I guess I died."


    "You guess?" Alistair''s eyes shone with horror.


    "Nyx did the compression thing and a bright light came... and then I was back completely healed like nothing happened. It seems to be the same power as -"


    "Ivy," Alistair said, cutting him off. "Well shit. What are you gonna do?"


    "What can I do? We gotta pretend it never happened so Ivy doesn''t pitch a fit."


    "Do you think she would?" Alistair frowned. "I mean, loads of people have all kinds of dangerous powers out there, but so long as people use them responsibly, she doesn''t seem to care."


    "Nyx seems to think so," said Angel. He took the joint from Alistair and had a long, deep drag.


    "If hiding your new ability is what you want to do, of course I''ll keep your secret."


    "Yes and no," Angel grumbled. "We don''t know how Ivy will respond, but I was experimenting with it tonight. It''s like this whole new world of sensation has opened up to me and I need to explore it. All of it."


    "Careful Grub, you''re not exactly good with moderation."


    The urge to taste more of that power itched under his skin, nearly impossible to resist.


    There can be no small licks, no such thing as just a taste. Not until I get a better hang of things.


    Angel clenched his jaw. Ivy had sucked up thousands at once during the height of the war. Whole armies. The more she consumed, the more powerful she became. Her range expanded, as did the fear and awe she instilled in all of Gleodem.


    His breath came in quick, rapid bursts and he scraped his fingernails into his jeans. The light flared whenever he closed his eyes, and as frightened as it made him, being drug into the darkness was worse.


    I was just gone. There was nothing. Can I even die at all now? I don''t want to ever go back there.


    "Are you ok?" Alistair reached out to Angel. The sensation of Alistair''s warm aura made him flinch away. "I''m worried about you."


    "Don''t be," Angel said.


    "This is a big deal Angel. You might not care if something happens to you, but I do. I was scared half to death. You scared everyone as a matter of fact, and poor Nyx -"


    Angel shifted uncomfortably, but didn''t know how to respond.


    Alistair sighed. Hot waves of frustration, mingling with the bitter tang of disappointment and grief emanated from him. Angel''s stomach churned with guilt.


    Maybe I''ll wake up and find this was all a bad dream.


    "For the record, I''m glad you didn''t die. When I heard, I was... I love you dude."


    "Gross," Angel teased, though the lump in his throat made his voice catch. "I guess I love you too etcetera."


    "Don''t be a turd," Alistair laughed. "So who else knows?"


    "Only you guys."


    "How did you hide it from Kismet? She''ll find out if you''re around her long enough."


    Angel shrugged. "I guess her telepathy doesn''t work too well with me."


    "Speaking of, where is she anyway?"


    "She''s in good hands, don''t worry," said Angel. "I left her with Nyx."


    Alistair lifted an eyebrow. "You don''t think she can read Nyx''s mind?"


    "Oh." The blood drained from Angel''s face. "Well, shit."


    "Good thinking with that one Grub." Recovered sufficiently from his shock, Alistair straightened in his chair. He shook his head, laughing in disbelief. "A genius you are."


    "I never claimed to be the brains of this operation," said Angel. "I''m clearly the beauty. I can''t have it all."


    "Yeah, that''s it." Alistair chuckled.


    "Do you think Kismet would rat me out?"


    "I doubt it," said Alistair. "I know her about as well as you do, but I don''t get that vibe about her. Maybe we should just tell her so we can explain why it''s so important to keep quiet?"


    Angel nodded, still thinking. "Yeah, you''re right. We''ll have to talk to her." The beer curdled in his stomach. "What if she doesn''t listen? What if she turns me in instead?"


    "We''ll cross that bridge when we come to it," Alistair said, patting Angel on the shoulder. "She seems like a reasonable girl."


    Anxiety sat like a stone at the center of his chest. If Ivy wanted to come and kill him or take him away, there was nothing Alistair, or anyone, could do about it.

 Chapter Seventeen: The Thin Tethers Of Peace

    The morning birds trilled, declaring their territory. It was hot out already, but the wind took the edge off.


    Nyx escorted Kismet to Julian''s to get her paperwork. She smoked a cigarette as they walked, ruminating over her last conversation with Angel, and her dream. Kismet didn''t ask any more about it thankfully. Nyx wasn''t sure what she would say and tried to create a plan.


    There''s no lying to a telepath. The sooner this girl gets a handle on her powers, the better.


    Kismet seemed to slip in and out of various degrees of lucidity at a moment''s notice. She''d stare off, sometimes only for a few seconds, then carry on like nothing happened. When they talked, it was as if she looked right inside of her.


    When they arrived at Julian''s, Nyx let herself in. Kismet trailed behind her, chewing on the soggy cuff sleeve of the hoodie Nyx lent her.


    I wish she wouldn''t. At least it''s not one I care for much.


    They found Julian lounging in the living room, a detective film played on the small television.


    "Hey Nyx, who''s your friend?" His tone was cordial enough, but there was almost a hint of accusation, or perhaps suspicion. Strangers were rare on the island.


    Nyx stepped into the living room and sat in one of the arm chairs. Kismet lingered in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot.


    "This is Kismet," Nyx said, gesturing to the other girl.


    Just get in here and sit down already, Nyx thought at her, but Kismet payed no mind. "She''s new here and needs to get set up with a card and everything. Daisy told us you''d have the paperwork."


    Julian frowned, pulling his bushy eyebrows over his golden eyes. "Ah, yeah. It should be in Angel''s old room. I''ll go get it." He looked at Kismet and waved. She only blinked. "Nyx, will you come help?"


    "Oh, um, sure," said Nyx.


    Why does he need me to help dig through boxes? I don''t know what he has and what he doesn''t.


    They went upstairs. Kismet stayed in place, turning only to watch them go. This cabin was a similar construction to Nyx''s own. There was only a small landing between a room to the left, and one to the right.


    They slipped into the one on the left. It had been turned into storage long ago, but some of Angel''s old rock posters still stuck to the wall. They barely clung to life on withered strips of tape.


    "What''s this girl''s deal?" Julian asked once the door shut behind them. He was careful to speak in a whisper, or as close to a whisper as his gravelly voice could muster.


    "She''s come from the mainland, like I said, and needs a place to stay."


    "This is unprecedented," he said. "They usually go to The Academy."


    Nyx shrugged. "She didn''t want to."


    What if the paperwork doesn''t even exist? Then what?


    "What are her powers? Do you know?"


    Something twisted in Nyx''s stomach and her trepidation faded ever so slightly as the heat rose in her chest. "Does it matter?"


    "I don''t want Ivy coming here. How did this even happen?"


    "Why would Ivy give a shit? Do you have the papers or not?"


    "Watch your tone girl," he growled. "I do have the papers, but I need to know what her abilities are first."


    "It shouldn''t matter," Nyx snapped.


    "Protecting this island matters," he said, pointing a thick finger at the floor to punctuate every word. "I''m only going to ask you one more time before I buy her a one way ticket to the mainland. What are her powers?"


    Nyx stared into his amber eyes, her mind racing.


    "She''s an empath, like Daisy."


    It was close enough to the truth to explain Kismet''s odd behavior and why she''d be working with Daisy. Nyx didn''t know why she lied. It was utterly impulsive, but something in her guts told her ''telepath'' was the wrong answer.


    People aren''t this jumpy unless they have secrets. Hopefully Julian doesn''t speak to Daisy about it. I''ll tell him I got confused if he ever asks.


    He visibly relaxed, then stepped toward a cluttered desk in the far corner of the room. After rummaging around for a moment, Julian produced a clump of forms held together by a clip.


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    "Take them to Watcher Liz when she''s done," he said. "I''m sorry to be harsh. I gotta look out for the island ya know?"


    Nyx took the stack of papers. "Yeah, I get it."


    She left the room and hurried down the stairs before Julian could change his mind.


    "Did he yell at you?" Kismet asked when they stepped out into the front lawn. The door slammed behind them.


    "No," said Nyx, marching toward the sidewalk, already lighting a cigarette while she moved.


    Kismet hurried to keep up. "Where are we going now?"


    "The library," said Nyx, exhaling a puff of smoke. She pressed the forms into Kismet''s hands. The grimy sweater sleeves covered Kismet''s fingers so it was like she wore mittens. "Fill these out and we''ll give ''em to Liz."


    "I hope I''m not keeping you from anything," said Kismet.


    Nyx didn''t break stride. "It''s my day off. Don''t worry about it."


    The conversation with Julian had shaken her up. It was not unusual for him to be gruff, rude and even down right mean, but she''d never known him to be prejudiced against anyone.


    Why does he care what abilities someone has all of a sudden?


    Kismet stopped in her tracks. "Are my powers going to be an issue? You didn''t have to lie for me."


    "I won''t let him kick you out for something you can''t help," said Nyx, turning back for her.


    "Maybe I should leave? I didn''t mean to cause trouble."


    "He''s an asshole. Don''t worry about his weird opinions. Plus, his vote isn''t the one that matters. It''s Watcher Liz you gotta win over."


    After a few blocks of houses, they exited the residential area to find themselves in the village-core; A single street with shops, including the market, and public service buildings lined either side. The centerpiece was the gas station on one side, and the town hall on the other. The buildings were all made of wood, almost resembling cabins themselves. This time of year, all the flower beds under the shop windows were in full bloom, inviting butterflies and bees.


    Kismet''s eyes darted in quick, rhythmic motions. Mutants hurrying to and from the stores shuffled past them. The headphones came out of Kismet''s sweater pocket and she clamped them over her ears.


    "You ok?" Nyx asked, poking her shoulder.


    "Huh?" She dipped her headphones.


    "Do you need a break?"


    "Uh - no, why?"


    "Your headphones." Nyx said, pointing at them. "If you''re getting overwhelmed, we can go sit somewhere quieter or something. All you gotta do is say so."


    "Yeah," Kismet said. "Maybe a break would be kinda nice."


    Nyx led her across the street toward a park where they sat on a wooden bench. Oak trees were planted in each quadrant, divided by stone walkways casting shade over the grass and wildflowers. A gazebo decorated the center, shielding a shallow fountain while pigeons splashed in the water.


    Kismet doubled over, clutching her head between her forearms. "I''m really sorry."


    "Please stop apologizing," Nyx said. "You''re driving me nuts."


    "Sor- Ok."


    They sat for awhile. Kismet kept her eyes closed, concentrating on her music while Nyx smoked another cigarette.


    When Kismet was ready, she clicked her CD player off and lowered her headphones. "Ok, I think I''m good now. Thank you so much."


    They left the park, heading toward the library.


    "For what?" Nyx asked, furrowing her brow. "Who do you listen to by the way?"


    "Cosmic Bunnies," said Kismet. "I used to listen to all sorts of other stuff."


    "I love those guys. You can have a look at my CDs when we get back if you want? That way you''re not stuck with the same old one."


    They reached the library. It was squashed between the police station and a barber. The yellow shingle-siding had hardly weathered the storms, stripped bare in some sections. A row of books pressed their faces to the front window, peering over the tulips in the window beds.


    A small bell tinkled as Nyx opened the peeling red door. She was immediately greeted by the scent of dust and mildew.


    They stepped around the corner to the main room. A desk was crammed in the far corner. A filing cabinet jammed in the back blocked out the other window so the room was dimmed. Bookshelves lined the walls, but there were plenty of gaps.


    Kismet moved faster than Nyx had seen her go yet, darting straight for the books.


    Nyx gestured to the bench and table under the front window. "Why don''t you work on the papers? I''m going to find Watcher Liz."


    "Oh, ok," Kismet pulled herself away from the shelves to sit down with the paperwork, while Nyx trailed off into the back room. It was supposed to be the non-fiction area.


    Watcher Liz was Ivy''s representative on the island and vice versa, she and the other board members would meet with Ivy on a monthly basis to discuss the needs of their respective charges. If anyone had a shot at knowing about Ivy''s powers, it would be her.


    When Nyx entered, a middle-aged woman dressed in all black emerged from one of the aisles. Her hair was worn straight and cut short at her chin. The ends were neat as the edge of a knife''s blade.


    "May I help you?" she asked.


    "Yeah - uh, um," Nyx scratched the back of her neck. "I''m wondering if I could ask you about Ivy?"


    The older woman smiled. "What would you like to know? Are you thinking about converting?"


    "Conver -" Nyx began, confused, then kicked herself for not remembering Watcher Liz was one of the weirdos that deemed Ivy to be some type of goddess. "Uh, um, no. I''m just curious and I thought you''d be the best one to ask."


    "Oh, well, certainly. Ask me anything you like."


    "Did her powers make her the way she is?"


    Watcher Liz raised a thin eye-brow. "What way is that?"


    Nyx flushed, not wishing to offend, but couldn''t think of another way to phrase things. "Ya know, that thing where she fades and starts to dissolve or something and needs to suck out someone''s life-force to stay solid."


    "It''s a rather unfortunate side-effect," said The Watcher. "The headmaster at the time, Derek Vaughn had built The Academy two-hundred years prior in order to use his fellow mutants for his own gain. His nucleokinesis and regeneration made him beyond reproach. Then Ivy sucked his life away and set us all free. Imagine the life-force of a man with that sort of power. Then she absorbed thousands more during the war. It was too much. Ivy sacrificed her mortal body to liberate us."


    "What would happen if she just didn''t suck anyone up and let herself fade away, or whatever?"


    "I''m not certain," said Liz, putting a finger to her chin in thought. "Well, regardless, let''s hope that day never comes. You''re too young to know what it was like before. I''m not much younger than Ivy myself and like her, I was raised in the old Academy.


    "It was a corrupt and unjust system needing to be ripped up by the roots and plowed under. We owe everything we have to her sacrifice. Ivy is the only thing holding the thin tethers of peace together. Believe me, if you had been there, you would tear it down too."

 Chapter Eighteen: A Thousand Words In A Glance

    Kismet tried her best to fill out the paperwork, but there were questions she could not answer.


    Where was I born? No idea. Who are my parents? Not a clue.


    The only thing she could fill out for certain was the most recent address she had abandoned, her boss from the bookstore as a reference and her social insurance number.


    Even my birthday is a wild guess.


    Her birth mother left the hospital without her. From there, she went from one foster home to another. By the time her abilities manifested, Kismet was barely old enough to speak in full sentences but already knew better than to let on about the depth of her experiences. She caught on quickly that speaking was dangerous, as she risked saying the wrong thing or answering an unspoken question.


    Whenever she talked, adults looked at her like she had five heads, but there was a strangeness in her silence too. Being able to read minds should have made it easier to say the right thing at the right time, but nothing could be further from the truth. People were too complex - their thoughts, their feelings, shifted like the tide and quite often didn''t align within themselves.


    Kismet wrapped one hand through her hair, gently tugging on the roots in thought as she scribbled answers to the best of her ability.


    "You almost done?" Nyx asked, stepping in from the back room.


    Kismet jumped, jolted from her reverie and writing.


    A short, older woman dressed head to toe in a black shirt and trousers, followed behind her like a shadow. Kismet gathered she must be Watcher Liz.


    "Um, nearly." She finished the last question then signed her name, handing the small stack across the table.


    Watcher Liz took them. "These shouldn''t take long to process. We''ll discuss your case the next time the council meets." She looked at Kismet''s papers. "You used to work at a bookstore? I could sure use a hand here if you''d like to join me?"


    "Yes, I''d like that," Kismet said, brightening.


    It would be nice to be around books again.


    Nyx paced, fidgeting. Magenta swirled its way through her aura. Kismet took the hint and they departed the library. She was sorry to see it behind her. There hadn''t been a lot of opportunities to leaf through the books.


    She picked up the pace to keep up with Nyx''s long strides. The woman''s tan skin gleamed in the heat of the summer sun, her pink hair damp with sweat.


    Kismet kept her headphones wrapped around her neck at the ready.


    "Where to now?" she asked.


    "To Daisy, if you like?" Nyx gripped another cigarette between her fingers and pressed it between her ruby lips.


    "Do you think she can help me?"


    Nyx shrugged, but kept walking. "I hope so."


    Though Nyx was silent as they walked, her thoughts were loud. Kismet was sure she must be unaware of the volume her presence carried, capable of speaking a thousand words in a glance. Kismet fought to shut her out. There was something deeply troubling her... something about the dream... the light... Julian and Watcher Liz... Angel especially...


    "Ok, we''re here," Nyx announced and Kismet snapped to the present. They stood in front of the russet house Angel had taken her to earlier. The garden bustled with even more butterflies than the day before. "I''ll see you at home?"


    "Can I cook you dinner?" Kismet asked. "I want to thank you for helping me."


    "Uh- sure," said Nyx, blinking in surprise. "You don''t have to -"


    "I want to."


    "Well, alright then."


    They said their good-byes, and Nyx departed. Now alone, Kismet was hesitant to approach the door.


    What if Daisy forgot? What if she changed her mind?


    Even though Kismet''s knock had been a mere tap, Daisy answered immediately. Her smile was warm and sweet as a fresh clementine. Her braids were tied in a high pony tail. A radiant orange aura, much like the halos of holy people Kismet saw in the gallery paintings surrounded the older woman.


    "You came back!" Daisy exclaimed and ushered Kismet inside. Her brown maxi dress swished around her heels.


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    The moment Kismet crossed the threshold, anxiety fled from her body. Incense burned sandalwood and white sage. Everything became so still all at once. Such peace was nearly a shock to her system.


    "Would you like some tea?" Daisy asked.


    "Yes, please," Kismet said.


    Daisy led her to the living room, then continued to the kitchen to get the tea.


    Kismet waited, taking a seat on the same whicker stool she had before. The rattan crinkled under her as she shifted. She admired the Macram¨¦ baskets swinging from the ceiling near the picture window, dangling spindly leaves from the spider plants and ferns. The afternoon sun bled through the drawn curtains, glimmering through the myriad of crystals on the shelves on the far wall of the room. Other tiny artifacts like feathers and carved effigies crowded in alongside them. She exhaled, listening to the wrens nesting in the bushes outside.


    Daisy returned from the kitchen, placing a tea tray on the coffee table between them. She settled on the couch and poured them each a cup. Kismet noticed she couldn''t hear Daisy''s thoughts at all. In fact, Kismet''s mind was completely clear. It was utterly disorienting.


    "So, what are the nature of your abilities?" Daisy asked. "I''m sorry, I don''t think I caught it the last time you were here. I assume they''re energetic in nature if you came to me?"


    Kismet''s cheeks flushed and she wiped her palms on her jeans, taking a moment to gain her bearings. This was a topic she generally avoided, or even lied about.


    Not even Kevin knows that much about me.


    She took a deep breath, inhaling the soothing scent of incense. Daisy''s influence wrapped around her like a warm blanket.


    "I''m a telepath," The words rushed from her like a confession. She drew in a shuddering breath. "It''s - it''s too much. "


    Kismet shrunk under the kindness in Daisy''s soft eyes. She looked at the carpet. Daisy scooched toward the edge of the couch, reaching for her across the coffee table.


    "Can I take your hand?"


    Kismet nodded and held her hand out to the woman. The second they touched fingers, Kismet felt Daisy swell with the same emotion; A mingling of hurt and longing, abandonment and desire. Then there was rage and sorrow like a heaving wave.


    "It''s overwhelming, isn''t it?" said Daisy.


    Kismet nodded. Tears pressed behind her eyes. Pressure surged in her chest. She tensed, anticipating slipping away and braced against it. Her fingernails dug into her jeans. Daisy''s influence kept her firmly fixed in her body. For the first time, she didn''t have to fight. Now she had to sit with it.


    And breathe.


    Is this what it''s like to be inside myself? This is awful.


    Her mind tried to pull back, but Daisy''s gentle grip on Kismet''s fingers tethered her to earth.


    I can''t do it anymore. I can''t.


    She drew in a shuddering breaths then collapsed into tears.


    Why does it have to hurt so much?


    An ache throbbed deep in her chest. Gradually, Kismet''s muscles relaxed as she exhaled, easing into the emotion, letting it dissipate. She blinked, disoriented.


    Daisy smiled at her, still holding her hand. "It''s ok. Just breath."


    Crying with Daisy had left Kismet lightheaded, but somehow relaxed. Normally, she would have been mortified to become so emotional, but here, it would have almost been a disgrace not to.


    The space Daisy commanded was not one of pure positivity, as Kismet had first suspected, not exactly. Instead, it was a space of unconditional safety. This constant bubble of security Daisy projected brought Kismet into herself without resistance.


    Still, she expected shame to creep up like a tiger to devour her any minute.


    "What did you do, you know, before?" Kismet asked once she gathered herself again.


    "My best," Daisy said with a laugh. "I was young when my powers manifested and I tried to keep it to myself, but it slips, as you''re well aware. My parents tried to hide me, send me to my cousin''s in the next town over so I wouldn''t be taken to The Old Academy. It worked for a time, until I was about seventeen. Then I was found out again. This time I ran. I met Ember and Molly first, then we found Julian and Jay, and then Aiden. We''d all heard of this island where mutants could be safe. At the time, we weren''t sure if it was just a rumor, but we had to try to find it."


    "You had to hide your abilities all that time?" She imagined young Daisy struggling to hide her abilities under fear of imprisonment or death and shuddered.


    "Yes, and it took its toll," said Daisy. Her dark eyes flashed with memory. "I had to find a way to get them under control, and quickly. I couldn''t afford to get caught. Just one of us being exposed could have put the others in danger too, and ruin everything. We all struggled to keep our abilities under control, but it was harder for some than others. We helped each other the best we could."


    "How did you manage it?" Kismet asked, in awe of her.


    "Mostly meditation," she said. "I read anything about spirituality or managing emotions I could get my hands on. There''s not much written about mutant abilities available to the public, not yet anyway, so most sources I used were based on human experiences. I had to extrapolate and experiment.


    "You''re going to be so sick of meditating by the time we''re done, but it''s necessary. You have to get acquainted with your inside, what it feels like to be you and in your own skin, so it''ll be easier to draw boundaries. Then you''ll come to know how your own energy expands, and learn to establish boundaries in the astral too. It''s like scaffolding. You''ve probably noticed you can''t read my mind?"


    Kismet nodded, spell bound by her.


    "That''s not because I''m particularly immune to your abilities, but because I have such precise control of mine. The barriers I have in place are thick, and I determine when and if they come down."


    "I would love to be able to do that," Kismet said, wistfully.


    Daisy smiled and placed her tea cup on the table. "You will. Be it my way, or your way, or something in between, there will be a way."


    "Thank you," said Kismet. "You''ve all been too kind."


    "We have to look out for each other," Daisy said. "How are you getting along? Are they taking good care of you?"


    "Oh yes," said Kismet. smiling. The hospitality she had found on the island far exceeded her expectations. "They''ve all been lovely, especially Nyx."


    "She''s a firecracker, isn''t she?" laughed Daisy. "Angelus better play his cards right or he''ll regret it."


    Kismet chewed the inside of her cheek. There was a gnawing in the pit of her stomach she couldn''t ignore, and it bubbled to the surface. "Why is Julian so harsh with Angel? He was like a different person when I visited him this morning. Still a little bit... gruff... but nicer for sure."


    "He hasn''t been the same since Ember died," Daisy sighed. "It happened during the war, shortly after The Old Academy fell. Angel was still an egg."


    "An egg?" Kismet nearly spit out her tea, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "I am so sorry."


    "There''ll be a lot to get used to around here," said Daisy.

 Chapter Nineteen: A Matter Of Life And Death

    Angel paced around the block, going on lap three. He rehearsed what he was going to say to Nyx in his head over and over, but couldn''t seem to get the words right.


    How hard is it to apologize?


    Though if he were being honest with himself, it was not the apology he was having a hard time with.


    I don''t know what to tell her. I don''t want to hurt her, but I can''t let her go.


    He kicked a pebble as he came around the corner to face Nyx''s cabin once again. The red paint peeled away and made the siding patchy. Clumps of clover, daisies and Queen Anne''s lace filled the overgrown yard, almost hidden behind the scraggly blackberry bushes on the property line. The front porch sagged into the earth, clinging to life by the mercy of a few solid boards that had managed to avoid the moisture and rot.


    This place needs so much work.


    It had taken Angel a year to repair the major faults in his own house, and it still wasn''t completely finished.


    Nyx probably doesn''t want my help. She doesn''t even need it.


    Finally, on the next loop around, he forced himself to approach the cabin and let himself in through the front door. He kicked his shoes off in the porch and went into the empty living room.


    Nyx''s house was bigger and more open than his own, with no wall separating the living room from the kitchen. The space smelled of floor cleaner and fresh air from the open windows. It had yet to be filled with the busyness of lived-in clutter and knick-knacks.


    The bare yellow walls waited for pictures and decorations to be put up. Cigarette butts crammed in the ashtray on the coffee table and the skateboard propped against the wall were the only signs of Nyx.


    The rest of the furniture was sparse. A small side table sandwiched between the mismatched armchair and sofa. The circular kitchen table and its ring of dining chairs occupied the corner between the living room and kitchen, marking the barrier between the spaces.


    Angel followed the sound of rummaging and movement to the kitchen and was surprised to find Kismet chopping carrots at the counter. Potatoes boiled on the stove behind her. The grey t-shirt she borrowed from Nyx hung to her thighs. Acid wash jeans were cinched to her waist by a black belt and rolled up at the cuffs.


    "Hey, you''re not Nyx," he said, surprised. "Is she around?"


    "Oh, sorry." She placed the knife down on the chopping block. "She went out for cigarettes. I think she''ll be back soon though."


    "Do you mind if I wait here?" he asked, pulling up a chair at the table.


    Kismet shrugged. "It''s up to Nyx. Do you think she would mind?"


    "That depends. Is she still mad at me?"


    "I dunno."


    "You didn''t read her mind?" he teased. "Even a little?"


    Kismet pursed her lips and turned back to the carrots. A thick wave of guilt and shame emanated from her like sticky tar. She started chopping faster. Angel wanted to push the feeling away, but it surrounded him, making him nauseous.


    "Sorry. I didn''t mean to make you feel bad. It''s just...I don''t know what to do," he sighed and rested his head in his hand. "Did she happen to say anything about it?"


    The carrots sizzled in the melted pool of butter. Kismet poked them with a fork making them hiss and spit.


    "Can''t you talk to her?" she asked.


    "That''s why I came, but I don''t know what to say. I hoped if you read her mind a little you could tell me what she wants to hear."


    "Are you serious?" she asked, turning to look at him. It was like being shoved under a microscope.


    He shifted in his seat, grateful she couldn''t read him automatically.


    "I want her to be happy," he said.


    "Then tell her the truth. Shut your brain up for a second and pay attention to in here," she said, pointing to his chest. "That''s the truth."


    He furrowed his brow, failing to grasp her meaning.


    "Sometimes the craziness going on in people''s heads clouds their true feelings," Kismet explained. She lifted the lid off the boiling potatoes and took them off the burner. "I see it all the time. There''s fear in their minds, even when love is all through their aura."


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    "Then what can I do?"


    Kismet shrugged. "I wish I knew."


    The dual-vibrations of her energy clashed against each other, running parallel but in opposite directions.


    I wish I could talk to her about my powers. She''s the only one who could possibly understand. A slim spark of hope struck him. Maybe she already knows? But I don''t want to risk telling her if she doesn''t.


    "If you saw something important about someone, would you tell them?" Angelus asked.


    Kismet brought the milk out of the fridge and splashed it into the potatoes.


    "It depends. If it was a matter of life and death, I suppose I would."


    "What if you had the person''s permission?"


    She frowned and plopped some butter into the pot and began to mash. "I dunno," she said. "What are you getting at anyway?"


    I gotta come right out and say it.


    "The other night something happened to me and I need to know if you''re aware of it," he said. "Please, it''s important."


    She returned to the carrots, stirring them around. For a moment, Angel thought she wasn''t going to answer him at all.


    "Are you talking about the blue light?" She put the lid on the pan and let the carrots simmer.


    "So you saw it?"


    "I''m sorry, it was a dream -"


    "It''s ok, just don''t mention it to anyone," he said. Tension squeezed his chest. "Not even Daisy."


    "I don''t want to get involved," said Kismet. "I''m sorry I saw it at all."


    "Don''t be sorry. It''s not your fault. Your ability seems to be pretty overwhelming for you. When we first met -"


    "Daisy is going to help me," Kismet said quickly. She turned off the burner and removed the carrots from the heat.


    "You''re lucky," he sighed. "I wish I could talk to Daisy about my powers."


    Kismet sat in the chair across from him. She absentmindedly scratched at the chipped wood on the table with a fingernail. Brown ringlettes fell into her face and she pushed them away.


    "Why not go to Ivy?" she asked. "Wouldn''t she be the best one to teach you?"


    "Nyx doesn''t think it''s a good idea for Ivy to find out."


    "What do you think?" Kismet fixed her large eyes on him.


    "I get where she''s coming from, and for now, it''s best to keep it quiet, but ultimately, I think if someone represses an essential part of themselves, it''s bound to creep up one way or another. It''s more dangerous to ignore it." Angel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to cradle his face in his hands. His cheeks were warm under his palms. "I wish I could do what Nyx wants, but it''ll kill me to try."


    Kismet nodded, nibbling her lip. "Well, maybe you could go to The Academy and see what happens?"


    "No way," Angel shook his head. "She''d kill me."


    "She''s pretty scary, but would she actually kill someone for something they can''t help?" Kismet frowned, her eyes wide with worry.


    "I''d certainly be rolling the dice if she were to find out about it. If she didn''t outright murder me, she''d want to control me some other way."


    "Well, what''s so bad about that?" Kismet asked. "The rules are there for a reason. Of course people can''t go on using their abilities all willy-nilly, there''d be absolute chaos."


    "I don''t want to create chaos, I just want to live my life, but sometimes those two things look the same."


    Kismet laughed. "That''s a problem."


    "I''m aware," he sighed. "Do you think maybe you could help me?"


    "How? I have no idea what I''m doing."


    "Maybe you could teach me what you learn from Daisy?" he asked. "Anything would help."


    Kismet looked away, drumming her fingers on the surface of the table. "I dunno -"


    "What''s the worst that could happen?"


    The oven dinged and Kismet hopped up to bring the chicken out. She opened the door and reached for the pan. Suddenly hissing in pain, she cursed and pulled her hand back, shaking it in the air.


    "What did you do?" he asked, getting up to help her.


    Kismet cradled her right hand to her chest. "Oh, I was stupid and touched it with my bare hand like an idiot. I''ll put it under some water -"


    "Here, lemme see," he asked.


    She gingerly extended her hand, looking away. The skin of her palm turned a bright red, blistering in the center. Angel grimaced, sucking air through his teeth.


    "Can I heal you?" he asked. "I''ve never tried before, but maybe it could help?"


    "Uh, yeah, sure," Kismet said. She sat down in the chair again, holding her injured hand in her lap.


    Angel grabbed the oven mitts from beside the stove and pulled the chicken all the way out and closed the door.


    "Are you sure this won''t make it worse?" Kismet asked.


    He put the pan on the oven in what little space remained between the other pots. His heart raced in his chest and his stomach did somersaults.


    "I can''t make any promises," he said.


    "Hmm." Kismet bit her lip. "Ok, try it." She propped her hand up on the table, slowly opening her fingers again.


    Angel examined the angry, bubbling flesh. He settled his awareness on the low vibration in the air.


    Ok, how do I do this?


    Now, in the face of her trust, nerves settled into the pit of his gut. Like when playing the guitar, he gathered the gossomar wisps of warm energy toward him. It was unwieldy at first, floating all around in unrestrained ripples. Kismet''s eyes darted around, seeming to follow where he felt the ripples.


    "Can you see it?" he asked.


    "Sort of." She squinted. "It''s not like the emotions I see. It''s like sections of the air starts to move. It almost looks like frosted glass."


    Angel put his hands together with space in between. The heat began to rise and he stared in awe. Gradually, a tiny blue spark appeared.


    "Whoa!" Kismet exclaimed. She leaned forward and they both watched the ball grow until it was the size of an orange.


    Angel passed it palm to palm. He took it in one hand and held it out.


    With wide, mesmerised eyes, Kismet reached out to the ball of light with her injured hand. Angel braced himself. She looked away, sinking her hand into the light.


    "Are you ok?" he asked.


    "Yeah," Kismet gasped, turning her head to watch the blazing ball once again. "It feels really good actually."


    Eventually, she withdrew her hand. They both marvelled at the fresh, healed skin. She turned her hand back to front, looking at it from every angle.


    "That''s incredible!"


    Angel released his focus, letting the ball dissolve into the air again. His heart throbbed at the base of his throat.


    "What''s wrong?" Kismet asked. "I won''t tell anyone -"


    "That''s not what I''m worried about," he sighed. "I won''t be able to keep this to myself, but then Ivy''ll - "


    "I''ll do my best to help you," said Kismet, placing her newly healed hand over his. "It may not be perfect, but we can try."

 Chapter Twenty: Trying To Swallow The Sun

    Nyx wasn''t surprised to find Angel in her kitchen when she returned. They made it through supper cheerfully enough for Kismet''s sake, but now they were alone, it was difficult to ignore the tension.


    Looking at Angel now, Nyx remembered him the way she knew him to be. He smiled like he heard a terrible joke and was dying to tell her. A mischievous glimmer softened his sharp blue eyes.


    In school, other girls teased each other for having a crush on him. How could she blame them? That would be like wanting someone to stop admiring the moon or the stars. They didn''t belong to her any more than he did. That was simply the exuberance of him.


    The double-edged blade of joy and longing dashed through Nyx. She wished for him to be only hers.


    How does it make sense to tame the wild thing about him that I admire? It''s like trying to swallow the sun.


    Nyx passed Angel a wet dish to dry. Kismet had offered to help, but Nyx sent her off to rest after working so hard on dinner. So she had gone for a bath, leaving Nyx alone with Angel for the first time since their argument.


    She pulled the plug on the sink as he finished putting the last plate in the cupboard. The heavy clouds had broken, pouring sheets of rain that rattled the windows in their panes.


    "Don''t worry, I won''t send you out in that," she said, tossing the towel across the tap.


    "A merciful Queen," he teased. "Where should I sleep? The armchair?"


    "In my bed obviously," Nyx glowered, refusing to take the bait.


    "So I''m forgiven?"


    "Yes, but I haven''t changed my mind."


    "Me neither."


    "So now what?" she asked.


    "A truce," he suggested. "These last few days have been... a lot."


    "Are you saying you want a break then?" Her voice cracked and she steeled herself for his answer.


    "No," he said quickly. "I''m saying I don''t want to fight with you anymore. I can''t do it on top of everything else. Please, I miss you. Can we call it a draw?"


    That was the closest thing to ''I need you'' she''d ever heard him say. Nyx nibbled her lip, her chest tightening, catching her breath under her ribs. "I can, but under some conditions."


    "Name your demands," he said, a playful glint in his eyes, but the lines of his face were drawn in thought.


    "I''m not competing for you Angel," she said. "Not with other women, not with alcohol or any of your other reckless whims. I''m telling you this now, and I''m telling you only once, if you break the terms of this truce then it''s over."


    "You drive a hard bargain."


    Again, he tried to laugh it off but she stared him down.


    "I''m only asking you to be faithful, to calm down, to try and not die in front of me again."


    "Is that all?" he asked drily. Angel fiddled with tucking the dish rag into the gap in the drawer. His fingers tense and quick in their movements.


    "If you can''t do it, then just say so and we''ll call it quits now instead of wasting anymore of each other''s time." Nyx clenched her jaw to trap the tears in her throat.


    Angel turned his diamond eyes on her. "It''s that easy for you?"


    "You haven''t made any of this easy."


    "I''m sorry loving me has to be so hard," he snapped.


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    Nyx touched his arm so he would look at her again. "Loving you has always been the easy part, it''s getting you to accept it that''s difficult."


    "How can I?" He asked, his eyes pleading. "I can''t promise you anything. I''ll only wreck it."


    "I''ll risk it," she said. Her heart pounded as if a butterfly perched on her fingertip. One wrong move...


    "Won''t it hurt more this way?" Angel asked.


    "I trust you."


    "After everything?"


    "I''m giving you a chance," she said. "You can''t pretend like the other night didn''t bother you, that it didn''t even matter. If you didn''t have that power you''d be -"


    "Of course it bothers me," he said, interrupting her. "Just a split second impulse, what a way to go, and nothing to show for it."


    Nyx embraced him, feeling the warmth of his body pressed to hers. She tightened her grip. He tensed, then snaked his arms around her, his lips in her hair.


    "Fine. I concede," he sighed. "I''ll agree to your terms."


    Nyx thought this moment would be victorious. After all these years of on again - off again dating, there was clarity and commitment. Finally, she had him pinned, but it didn''t seem fair.


    They spent the evening riffling through Nyx''s CD collection with Kismet. They were still packed up in a shoe box next to the drums. The three of them sat on the floor in the near-empty spare room, picking through them and taking turns putting songs on the little stereo. Kismet was enthralled, already familiar with most artists Nyx showed her, but was excited to find new ones too. Nyx and Angel reminisced over albums and songs they used to listen to together and hadn''t heard in a while.


    Later that night, they crawled into bed together. The bedroom was small enough that her bed and dresser took up the majority of the space. The walls were blank and she was living out of the unpacked boxes in the corner. Angel eyeballed the clutter.


    "You want my help with that tomorrow?" he asked.


    "Sure," she said and snuggled up, clicking out the light. There was a comfortable silence as they attempted to settle into sleep, but the events of the day buzzed in her head. "Can I ask you something?"


    He pretended to be snoring and she lightly elbowed him.


    "Seriously."


    "Ok, yeah, sure. What''s up?"


    "Does Julian have a problem with any particular type of powers?"


    "Ah, no, I don''t think so? Why?"


    Nyx paraphrased the conversation they had when she went to get Kismet''s papers, including the lie she told. "It just really struck me as odd, and when I went to see Watcher Liz, she didn''t care at all. I don''t think the question was even on the papers."


    "Hmm," he said. "I really don''t know what the hell that''s about." Angel rolled away to face the wall. "But Julian is super weird, so what did we expect."


    Nyx stayed propped against the headboard and nudged his shoulder. He groaned in discontent and turned around.


    "What if he talks to Daisy and finds out I lied?"


    "He probably won''t even remember the conversation you had in the first place."


    Nyx lowered her voice to a whisper. "What if he sends Kismet away? What will happen to her?"


    Angel opened his eyes and finally sat up. He pushed his dark hair out of his face. "Despite what my father believes, he''s not the only one who gets a say about what happens on this island. Hopefully the rest of them have some sense. They''re all sober at least, so that''s a bonus. Plus, didn''t you say Watcher Liz seemed to like her? She gets to veto anyway."


    Nyx nibbled her lip, her stomach twisting with uncertainty.


    "Still, I think we should take her to meet the others. If they all like her, no one can say no."


    "Hmm, I guess. If she wants to, why not?" Angel flopped down again, closing his eyes and yanked the blankets under his chin.


    Nyx wasn''t done and shook his shoulder. "I asked Watcher Liz about Ivy."


    He opened a single eye. "And?"


    "She said Ivy didn''t lose her mortal body until she killed the headmaster, then absorbed all those people in the war. So I don''t think you have anything to worry about. It doesn''t seem to be part of the natural progression of the ability in of itself."


    "Good." Angel sighed with relief. "Kismet offered to teach me what she learns from Daisy. Then I''ll be able to control it. Then I''m gonna fight Carl. I heard the pot is forty-thousand now."


    "Please don''t."


    "I can''t die this time. If I can control it, I can just heal up later. I won''t zap him or anything, I swear."


    Nyx groaned in exasperation, running her fingers through her pink hair. "Please be careful. You''re still mortal as far as we know. Plus, It''s already suspicious you survived the first time after Timmy went around telling everyone you died."


    "So long as I don''t absorb anyone, everything will be fine." He meant it as a joke, but she wasn''t laughing.


    "Did you hear me at all?" she snapped. "I mean it Angel. If you get caught, it could end very badly. No more foolishness."


    "What, I''m not supposed to fight at all? Ever?" He propped himself up on his elbow.


    "I wish you wouldn''t," she grumbled.


    "It''s not like I can get seriously hurt now, so what''s the problem?"


    "You''re playing with fire," she growled. "Sooner or later, someone will notice something is up."


    "This sucks," he complained. "Maybe there''s a chance Ivy wouldn''t care?"


    That is a possibility, but what are the odds?


    "Would you want to risk it?"


    "I just don''t know if I can hide it forever," Angel said.


    I can''t argue, but he was right. Even if he doesn''t fight or do anything reckless for the rest of his life, there''s bound to be something that slips.


    The room suddenly became even smaller. She pressed in closer, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing tighter. Still, she could not escape the feeling he was slipping through her fingers.

 Chapter Twenty-One: Embers Dying Wish

    Last night''s storm had broken the thick humidity in the air. The afternoon sun was high in the crisp blue sky. A cool breeze cut through the heat. Kismet hurried to keep up with Nyx''s skateboard and Angel''s long strides.


    Nyx assured her there was nothing to be nervous about, but meeting her parents was intimidating none-the-less. Having already met Daisy, Aiden, Julian, and Watcher Liz, they were the only two of the six council members Kismet had yet to be introduced to.


    Their house was small, like the others, and painted a soft grey. The flower bed beneath the front window livened up the yard with splashes of pinks, reds, and yellows. Nyx hopped off her skateboard, flipped it up, and caught it. They followed the rock footpath to the veranda. The new, freshly painted pine contrasted with the much older wood of the house.


    Nyx let herself in with Angel strolling behind her. Kismet tucked her hands in the front of her hoodie to hide them shaking.


    Meeting the others hadn''t been so bad. Everyone''s been nice so far, well except for Julian. It''s silly, but I didn''t think the stakes would be so high, but of course there would be some kind of vetting process. What did I expect?


    The narrow porch could hardly contain the three of them, competing for space with the staircase and the pile of shoes and boots beside the closet. The sound greeted her first. It was loud in the house in a way that was familiar to her. Kismet had lived in crowded houses before, however, the tone here was much lighter and jovial than the places she had known, where people had argued and elbowed just to carve some space.


    The energy was light, though there was a lot of it. She recognized Alistair''s voice coming from the living room, laughing with a man and a woman. The scent of baking chocolate-chip cookies wafted from the kitchen at the end of the narrow hall, along with the clanging noises of someone messing about with baking sheets.


    Nyx led the way into the living room. The white curtains on the picture window were drawn back to allow sunlight to stream in unimpeded. Three mugs crowded on the coffee table along with a half-eaten spread of snacks. There were plates of chocolate, cheese, and skinny ham rolls.


    Alistair sprawled out, taking up the length of the couch, his legs resting on a girl that, if not for her flowing green hair, would have been identical to Nyx. Kismet assumed she must be Cassie. Her aura glimmered a deep green like fresh seaweed and gold glitter speckled through it.


    The older man lounged in the arm chair, fully reclined. His blond hair, though short at the sides and slightly longer on top was artfully messy. Thick black framed glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and he pushed them up to the same green eyes shared between the triplets. His aura glowed the brightest, a brilliant blood-orange. Nyx introduced the man as her father, Jay.


    Alistair sat up to make space. Angel and Nyx squeezed in between him and Cassie, and Kismet sat in the empty armchair on the opposite end of the room. She looked at the snacks, but was too shy to take any.


    "Kismet," Jay said, greeting her with a warm smile, "Alice told us about you."


    "All good things," said Alistair, taking one of the ham rolls.


    Kismet flushed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She stared at her hands folded in her lap, unsure of what to say. The more her nerves ate her, the louder their thoughts became and she fought to push them down, to keep herself calm.


    Maybe I should have a piece of cheese after all?


    "Why''d you come to the island after all this time?" Cassie asked. She leaned forward a little to see around the others on the couch.


    "I wanted to learn more about my powers," said Kismet. It was the simplest explanation. There was no need to dig into details.


    "Why didn''t you go to The Academy as a kid or something?" asked Cassie.


    "Alright, enough with the interrogation," said Nyx.


    "What? I''m just asking," said Cassie with a slight frown. "There''s plenty of mutants who live on the mainland, so I wanted to know why the island? Especially after all this time. It''s so cruddy here. There''s nothing to do."


    "It''s not cruddy," said Alistair.


    "Of course you''d say that," Cassie teased. "You''re boring."


    "It''s difficult to explain," said Kismet. "It seems that abilities are ok if you''re useful and quiet about them. There are plenty of mutants who work and live alongside humans that get along alright. Just be productive about it, don''t make it overly noticeable, and definitely don''t become a problem."


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    "What is it that you do, exactly?" Jay asked.


    Nyx tensed. Magenta flashed through her aura, her eyes momentarily flicking to Angel, to Kismet, then straight ahead again. Her thoughts were so loud it was a wonder no one else could hear them.


    Did Julian speak to him? Did Daisy? Did he know? Is this a test?


    Sweat pooled on the back of Kismet''s neck. In order to answer, she would have to read Jay''s mind. Directly, distinctly, and on purpose.


    She wanted to throw up.


    Angel''s eyes fixed on her, his brow furrowed. He must have sensed her energy shift.


    Kismet forced herself to be still.


    Her mind''s eye clicked, snapping into focus. Out of the humming sea of voices, she found Jay''s and zoomed in. She rifled through scene cards of memories like a filing cabinet. No, he did not speak to Julian or Daisy about her abilities.


    The center of Kismet''s forehead, right behind her skull, began to burn. It was like stretching a stiff, cold muscle. Determining this still didn''t tell her what the correct answer should be. Join in Nyx''s lie, or tell the truth?


    Is there a reason Julian may not want a telepath on the island? Would Jay agree?


    Summoned by this question, she was dragged through a flash of memory clips, flying past at lightning speed. Kismet willed herself to hit the breaks, but something came loose. She couldn''t gain any traction. With what little awareness she still had of her body, she felt her heart beat a rapid tattoo under her ribs.


    The images ground to a halt and she found herself standing in Julian''s living room. She was much taller than her usual height, seeing through Jay''s eyes. It was night outside, the curtains tightly drawn. Only the lamp on the nightstand lit the room. The house was newer then, and not as full of furniture and clutter, but the structure was more dilapidated as it had yet to be repaired.


    Ivy stood in the archway between the living room and the hall. Her skin was porcelain white, as was her long straight hair that fell beyond her waist. Even her eyelashes were white, framing eyes that were narrow and cold - a pale silver like diamonds, so sharp they impaled her.


    A much younger Julian stood his ground. Electricity sizzled around him, crackling the air.


    "No," Julian said through gritted teeth, glaring at Ivy. "Take him back."


    "I promised Ember," said Ivy. Her voice was clear as ice.


    "He might be better off with you." Jay suggested. "Who better to protect him?"


    "While I''m at war?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.


    "What about all those kids at The Academy you just obliterated? Can''t he go wherever they''re headed?" Julian asked.


    "Until I''ve erected a new academy, that would be here," Ivy said, keeping her voice firm and even. "Some of the older Watchers, and Watchers without abilities suitable to combat are going to raise them on the island. Then, when I''ve built my academy, those willing can join me there."


    Julian crossed his arms. "Then give him to one of them."


    "This was Ember''s dying wish," said Ivy. "She wanted him here with you. That''s all she''d speak about."


    The lilt of begging in her voice and desperation in her eyes seemed so strange to Kismet. This was not the formidable woman she had come to know through the television, or haunted the boogey-man stories of her childhood.


    Jay''s heart clenched, his chest tightening. "Julian, maybe you should? If it''s what Ember wanted -"


    "She didn''t give a damn about what I wanted when she went and got caught, did she?" Julian snapped.


    "It''s not like she did it on purpose," Jay pleaded. "It was an accident."


    "She was impatient," Julian growled. "We were so close to getting to the island, but she just had to go flying -"


    "Enough," Ivy snapped.


    Both men stopped and looked at her. It was clear why some had already begun to worship her. The wrath of a god blazed in her eyes. She seemed to float into the room rather than walk, her black cloak trailing behind as she approached Julian.


    Jay had to give him credit. He did not flinch.


    "You did not deserve her, not even for a minute. I am offering you a gift, and you are spitting in my eye. This is the last piece of her on Earth and you would turn him away? She died trying to get him here."


    "She died because of you," Julian snarled. "If not for you and this war -"


    Ivy''s eyes ignited blue fire. Electricity sizzled in the air between them, crackling in tiny lightning bolts around Julian''s clenched fists.


    Jay''s heart raced. Kismet watched from behind his eyes as he stepped between them. Fire formed in his palms. He didn''t want to fight. It would not end well for either of them to oppose her.


    "Cool it, both of you," he said, then turned to Ivy. "Fine. Leave him, but you need to go."


    Kismet awoke, gasping and choking on air. A cold wash cloth was pressed to her forehead. She was in a strange room on the bottom bunk of someone else''s bed. She took a moment to catch her breath, taking in her surroundings. The salmon pink walls were plastered with Polaroids arranged artfully, clustered with thematic stickers. Mostly stars or flowers. It was like a scrapbook taking up the entire stretch of the wall. A white desk pressed in the corner next to a matching dresser.


    A knock came at the door before a woman let herself in. She carried in a tray with milk and fresh cookies, her deep brown eyes soft with sympathy. In the liminal space between consciousness, Kismet gathered that this was Nyx''s mother Molly. Her aura shone an egg-shell white, almost matching her cream coloured sweater.


    Kismet went to apologize, but the woman shushed her. "It''s alright," she said. "I brought you something to eat. That usually helped Daisy when she got overwhelmed." Molly waited for Kismet to get situated and gently placed the tray on her lap once she was sitting up. "How are you feeling?"


    "A bit better now," said Kismet. Though that was only relative to not being unconscious anymore. Chills rippled through her body and she struggled to keep her teeth from chattering. Flashes of her vision lingered in her mind, churning through her stomach.


    "Nyx tells us you''re an empath?" said Molly. "That must be difficult to deal with, especially on your own all this time."


    "It certainly has its moments," said Kismet. She took a bite of the cookie, gradually coming back to her senses. Her hands trembled.


    What do I tell Angel? Anything?


    "Are you ok dear?" Molly asked, furrowing her brow. "You''re looking a little green."


    Guilt twisted a nauseating heat through her guts. She tried to push the vision from her mind but it was there every time she blinked.


    "I''ll be fine," Kismet said.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: Control And Choices

    Angel sat in the armchair, focusing on his breathing. In and out. Life-force energy ebbed and flowed around him in pulsing waves. Electric. It filled him like fuel. He shut out all other external sensations. No more obnoxious ticking of the clock in the kitchen, or the scent of cigarette smoke from the ashtray beside him. Glowing warmth was all he could feel until it consumed him.


    Ever since he began working on his powers with Kismet a month ago, he started to feel comfortable in his own skin, like it was finally ok to be still.


    Yet frustration bubbled under the surface.


    Why can''t I be like this all the time? Why do I have to hide this part of me?


    The vicious swirling and rapid rush of Kismet''s energy pressed in on him to the point of distraction. He''d gotten better at meditation over these past few weeks, but still, he could not shut out the tumultuous rush of her energetic current.


    He peeked an eye at Kismet. She sat on the couch amongst the folded blankets and pillows that made up her bed. The dim light of evening filtered through the picture window and reflected gold through the dense curls piled on her head in a high pony-tail. A textbook held open in her lap. Her quick eyes raced across the page.


    She noticed him looking at her. "Can''t focus?"


    "I can," he said. "Looks like you''re the one having some trouble?"


    "It''s hard to shut it out today," she said, sighing. "I think I''ve read the same paragraph five times. Everything is especially loud. Maybe I didn''t get enough sleep."


    "Do you need my help?"


    "I can''t keep relying on you to make it better." She closed her book and looked at her lap, fiddling with the frayed pieces of the throw blanket covering her.


    "I don''t mind." Angel got up and sat next to her on the couch.


    He extended a hand. Slowly, she reached out and took it. Relief softened her features and she relaxed her shoulders with an exhale. She gripped his fingers tighter, easing into the feeling.


    Gradually, the pulsing of her energy steadied. It still did not fully align with the deeper stream beneath but the two no longer grated against each other so heavily. Angel had yet to find anyone else with such a duality, and it intrigued him.


    She took her hand away and wouldn''t look at him. "I shouldn''t get too used to that."


    "Why not? It doesn''t bother me at all," Angel said. He leaned back, getting comfy against the pillows.


    "As nice as it is to finally have some peace in my head, you can''t be around all the time. If there was some way to bottle your resistance up like some kind of pill, I totally would, but I gotta figure out a way to shut it down on my own."


    "Why squish it at all?" he asked. "You''re really not being fair to yourself. You don''t want to use your powers at all? Ever?"


    "People get hurt," she said softly. "Nothing good ever comes from it."


    "What if you had permission? We use our abilities here all the time. I''m not used to all this secrecy about it. Our abilities are just parts of us, ya know? I couldn''t live without my wings, or imagine what it would be like not to be able to hear or see as much as I do. It would be like a chunk of the world was cut out from under me. I get it, shutting it out is important, but that''s just one part of it. It''s like how I can choose to filter some noises or see closer or further away. It''s about control and choices, but to keep yourself from it entirely is like a sort of death I think."


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    Kismet looked at him with those piercing eyes of hers. Every bit of her seemed so soft and fragile. All but her eyes. They were the truth of her.


    "It''s dangerous even with permission," she said. "The mind is a complex and delicate thing. I don''t know if I could ever learn enough about it to navigate safely. Sometimes killing off parts of ourselves is the only path to growth."


    "Stifling your abilities isn''t the same thing as pruning off a few bad branches. Don''t you want to feel alive?"


    "Not especially."


    "Don''t tell me you came all this way to be normal?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.


    "That''s all I''ve ever wanted."


    I wish she could see how wonderful her abilities are.


    "What if we found a spot where you could tune out the voices and relax a bit easier?" Angel asked.


    He got up and stretched, still feeling the energy flowing under his skin. Angel never wanted to be without this feeling ever again.


    "Where are you thinking?" Kismet tossed the blanket aside and got up.


    "The woods might be a good spot? It''s far enough away from the village, but not so far we can''t make it back in time for supper."


    "Ok, I''ll leave a note for Nyx so she won''t get worried."


    While Kismet went to the kitchen to write the note, Angel decided to wait outside. The late afternoon heat began to dissipate as the cool ocean breeze rolled in. Butterflies landed on the over grown clovers and he could smell their sweet nectar.


    When Kismet stepped outside, she hurried down the deck stairs to join him on the lawn.


    "Ok, let''s go," she said.


    "Are you sure you don''t wanna fly?" he teased. Ever since the day he scooped her off the sidewalk, she had refused to fly with him.


    "I''m good," she said and led the way down the sidewalk. The wind whipped her curls loose from her pony-tail.


    "Ugh, but walking is so slow," he complained, quickly catching up to her.


    "That''s fine. I like to walk. There''s lots of time to think."


    "Well, what are you thinking about?"


    She fixed her eyes on the sidewalk ahead of them, nibbling the frayed ends of her hoodie sleeves.


    "The council meeting is tonight," she said.


    "Are you nervous?" He didn''t need to ask. It pulsed off of her in nauseating waves.


    Surely, Watcher Liz will approve. Kismet''s been working with her at the library all this time, there''s no way she''ll say no.


    "Where will I go if the council says I have to leave? The Academy?" she asked.


    "It won''t come to that," he assured her. "I have no clue what Julian''s problem is anyway. Plus, we don''t even know for a fact your telepathy is an issue. Nyx was guessing."


    "It''s a pretty good guess," she muttered. "People like their secrets."


    Angel frowned. He hadn''t considered that before, and it made him uncomfortable. "What would Julian have to hide anyway?"


    Kismet shrugged and turned down the next road. Her energy shifted, but Angel couldn''t quite figure her out. The sour tang of anxiety was sharp, but he couldn''t discern it. There was something in the way she turned that he couldn''t quite place.


    He decided not to push the issue and followed her down the road. Wrens and finches chirped in the silence between them.


    "Did you want me to try and talk to Julian and figure out what his deal is?" Angel asked. "I haven''t spoken to him since we argued, but I could try -"


    "No, that''s ok," she said quickly. "Let it be. I don''t want to make anything worse."


    Angel laughed. "No way you''d be the reason for making anything worse. Things were already pretty bad before you got here." He stopped walking and she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "No matter how things pan out, it''s not your fault. Ok? One way or another, I''ll make sure you get to stay on the island."


    She stared at him with wide eyes. "How? I don''t want you to do anything crazy on my account."


    "Don''t worry about it. I don''t do anything crazy on anyone''s account but my own." He started walking again and she struggled to keep up. Just thinking about Kismet getting kicked off the island for her powers made his blood fit to boil.


    What gives Julian of all people the right to say what powers get to be here and what ones don''t?


    They neared the end of the road and the edge of the forest. Angel stepped off the sidewalk and into the ditch, moving the brush aside with his body. Kismet followed him as they moved through the trees.


    Soon, they found an overgrown trail and Angel guided her along, avoiding roots and rocks. The thick canopy of leaves sprinkled a spackling of light onto the ground below, dancing across the dead leaves and pine needles.


    "You''re a lot sweeter than you give yourself credit for," she said.


    Angel laughed. "I think Nyx would disagree."


    "She cares about you a lot," said Kismet. "It doesn''t take a telepath to see that."


    "I know," he sighed.


    The trees thinned and parted as they stepped into a circular clearing. Sunlight cast shadows flickering across the forest floor. The damp moss was soft and springy under Angel''s footsteps. Kismet stepped under the light, gazing upward, looking around.


    "This place is perfect," she said. When she looked at him again, he could have sworn tears shimmered in her eyes.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: Hes Goofy As Hell, But Hes Good

    Nyx left little paw prints in the mud as she ran along the beach. The setting sun painted the shallow water in streaks of gold and orange. Droplets splashed, catching the light like sparks as Cassie chased Alistair through the water, playfully nipping at him whenever she got close enough.


    Eventually, Alistair stopped, turning on Cassie and pounced, knocking her sideways into the ocean. They tussled until they were both soaking wet, appearing more like drowned river rats than foxes. Unable to resist, Nyx scurried in after them. The frigid water cut through her fur. After the shock, it was refreshing after such a hot day. She jumped on Alistair who had only just regained his bearings, her fangs barring down lightly through his silver coat.


    Cassie and Alistair teamed up against Nyx, nipping and pouncing until she was down. Nyx wrestled away from them. She puffed her fur and crouched in a challenge. They tip-tapped in place, eyeing her up and yipping, trying to suss out the best plan of attack. She stood her ground, every muscle tensed and coiled to defend herself. Her eyes flicked from one to the other.


    Movement caught her attention from further up the beach. Angel and Kismet waved from the rocks, several tote bags piled by their feet. The distraction was only for a second, but it was enough.


    Cassie and Alistair attacked at once, knocking her into the water. Once she was down, her siblings bolted out of the ocean and dashed up the shore toward Angel. By the time she got up again, she was well behind and raced to catch up.


    Angel was busy piling some of the scraggly driftwood pieces and kindling in the fire pit. It was a crudely dug hole in the sand with rocks circled around the edge. The crisped remnants of burnt logs were crumbled at the bottom.


    Kismet combed the pebbles for anything else to burn, while Alistair trotted ahead. He pointed out sticks for her to pick up.


    Nyx investigated the tote bags, already able to smell the hotdogs and marshmallows before she peeked inside. Cassie had already popped her head into the other snack bag, knocking it over.


    "Get outta there you two," Angel scolded. "You''re getting everything all wet and covered with sand." He gently grabbed Nyx to move her away. She growled, wiggling and squirming against his grip, flashing her teeth. "Hey, don''t try and bite me!"


    Angel plopped her on four paws again and she nipped at the cuffs of his jeans for revenge.


    "You guys get all crazy, every time," he muttered, returning to putting the fire together.


    Nyx sprinted off to find the rock where she had hidden her clothes. Making sure to be completely concealed by the jagged semi-circle of rocks, Nyx shifted into her human form and got dressed, tugging on a t-shirt and jeans. She combed her hair with her hands, feeling the grit of sand under her fingertips.


    The cool wind against her damp skin raised goosebumps along her exposed arms. The sand was warm against her bare feet from a day of sun as she walked toward the fire. Smoke curled and the wood snapped as it burned.


    Alistair and Cassie had also changed. They sandwiched Angel between them, passing a joint along. With the sun nearly gone, they were little more than silhouettes seated on the logs around the pit. The sky turned a plumb ombre in the background revealing a dense blanket of stars.


    Kismet perched on the log across from the others, but she was not alone. Nyx recognized Blossom sitting off to the side. Beaded braids decorated her long brown hair. A thin crown of thin branches and baby''s breath flowers adorned her head. Firelight illuminated the gold accents in her paisley maxi dress.


    Nyx squeezed in on the end, squashing poor Kismet.


    "Do you wanna tell them?" Blossom asked Cassie. She fidgeted with a bead on her hemp bracelet.


    "Tell us what?" Nyx asked through the cigarette clenched in her teeth. She scrounged in her pocket for a lighter.


    "Um," Cassie said, flushing. "Blossom and I have decided to move to the mainland."


    "There''s this huge casino," Blossom explained, waving her hands enthusiastically. "The Enigma has all sorts of performances. You should see it! We figure we''d try to do shows there one day, but we could travel around in the meantime."


    Nyx''s heart clenched and was torn somewhere between Please don''t go and take me with you. She clenched her jaw against the rising lump in her throat. "You''ll do well. You''re both quite talented."


    "Thank you," said Blossom with a smile. "We''ve planned it all out, don''t worry."


    Nyx was going to worry regardless, but she bit her tongue. They''d never been more than a few streets apart. It would be strange not to see Cassie on a near daily basis, but there were always Aiden''s portals, the ferry and thank goodness for telephones.


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    "Come see us," Cassie exclaimed.


    "Let''s take Kizzy to the casino," said Angel with a mischievous grin. "That could be fun."


    Kismet shook her head, but said nothing.


    "When are you going?" Alistair asked. He tried to keep his voice light, but Nyx heard the heaviness hidden in it.


    "The end of the week," said Cassie.


    "So soon?" Alistair gasped.


    "I''m sorry it feels sudden," said Blossom. "We agreed not to say anything until things were all set."


    He frowned, but nodded in understanding.


    Angel put his arm around Cassie, giving her a squeeze. "I''m gonna miss you Casserole."


    "I wish I could say the same," she teased.


    The night carried on, but Nyx''s mood had soured. A sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. There might be other bonfires to come, but not like this. So she wanted to make the most of it, and tried her best to ignore the sadness attempting to wriggle into her bones. That could be for tomorrow. Tonight, she would enjoy herself.


    Angel had brought a bottle of whiskey to share and even Kismet dipped into it. While Nyx drank with her on the log, the others had strolled further down the beach.


    "Are you nervous about the meeting?" Nyx asked her.


    "I don''t know what I''ll do if I can''t stay here," she said. "I can''t go home."


    "We''ll figure something out."


    "What if we can''t?"


    "I''ll hide you," Nyx teased. "Or we''ll riot."


    "What if Daisy says something?" Kismet stared into the fire. The flames danced in her hazel eyes.


    "She wouldn''t."


    "Not on purpose, but she doesn''t know my true powers are supposed to be a secret," Kismet said.


    "Rejecting someone based on their abilities is a dangerous precedence to set. Any of our abilities could pose a problem if used poorly, so where would they draw the line?"


    Kismet twirled a ringlette around her finger. "I - I don''t think it''s really about that. There''s something going on here." Her face was flushed, either from anxiety or drink, Nyx couldn''t tell. "I don''t have any intention to dig or pick at anything, but I can''t always control it."


    "I know," Nyx said, her voice thick. "I''m so sorry. Maybe I shouldn''t have lied, but I didn''t know what else to do."


    "It''s not your fault," said Kismet. "You did what you thought was best."


    Canned music from the tiny stereo was barely audible above the waves. Angel bounded up to them, extending his hand to Nyx.


    "Care to dance?" he asked.


    Nyx looked at Kismet.


    "Go ahead, I''ll be alright here," she said.


    Nyx took Angel''s hand and he whisked her away. Kismet stayed behind, staring into the fire, nursing her drink.


    The smooth pebbles made their movements clumsy as Angel twirled her around, exaggerated and silly. The liquor wasn''t helping. Nyx nearly slipped, but he caught her, laughing. His hand pressed to the small of her back, holding her close.


    "You gotta hold your liquor," he said. "You''re outta practice."


    "I''m ok. I don''t think I''m gonna go pro," she said and nuzzled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. The scent of sea salt lingered on his skin. She wound her fingers through his hair and kissed him, tasting whiskey on his lips.


    A chunk of seaweed slapped Angel across the back of the head. They broke apart. He put his hand up where the seaweed hit him, looking around. Nyx squinted in the dim light, but Angel''s vision was unaffected by the dark and he spied Alistair getting another wad of seaweed ready to throw.


    "What the hell man?"


    Nyx hopped out of the way as Angel ducked to grab his own seaweed clump to throw back at Alice. She sighed. So much for the tender moment. They chased each other around the shore, flinging seaweed and chunks of mud at each other.


    "I''m really happy Angel seems to have healed up so well," said Blossom, walking toward Nyx. She minded her steps, wobbling across the stones. Her hair always seemed to flow so gracefully, not a strand drifted out of place, but her crown had slipped a little to the side. "How are you? Cassie was quite shaken, and so was I. Even from the stage it looked -"


    "I know," said Nyx, sighing. "I''m alright. It looked much worse than it actually was fortunately."


    "I''m sorry Timmy told and got everyone all worked up. He can''t keep quiet sometimes."


    Cassie bounced up to them, laughing as she struggled to balance. Her green braid had come slightly undone, wisps blowing in the breeze. She put her arm around Nyx''s shoulders, partially to hug her, but mostly to keep balance.


    "I''m gonna miss you," she said, planting a peck on Nyx''s cheek. "Wanna come too? You totally can if you want, right Blossom?"


    Blossom nodded. "Of course."


    "What would I even do?" Nyx asked with a laugh. "Clearly I can''t dance."


    "Play the drums!" Cassie poked her in the side.


    "Oh, nobody wants to see me play," she said with a dismissive wave.


    "That''s not true," said Blossom. "I''ve heard you play loads of times and you''re really good."


    "Angel is the one with any talent."


    Cassie laughed, jerking her thumb to where Alistair now had Angel in a headlock. "Yeah, he''s a creative genius."


    "Sure, he''s goofy as hell, but he''s good," said Nyx. "You''ve never heard him sing."


    "Only because he absolutely refuses to do it in front of anyone," said Cassie.


    "He doesn''t have anything to prove."


    Angelus had broken free of Alistair''s grip and the two were now squaring up, throwing fake punches and exchanging exaggerated threats, bickering over who was going to toss who into the sea first.


    Blossom excused herself to join Kismet by the fire and get another drink.


    "Are you going to be ok here with everything going on?" Cassie asked, still managing to whisper despite her inebriated slurring.


    "Yeah, of course."


    "How is it going anyways? You haven''t spoken much about it since -"


    "It''s ok. I got it," Nyx said, trying to smile. "Don''t worry about what we''re up to over here, you go and have a great time."


    Cassie smiled, but it was sad and grateful. She kissed her again, then dashed off to the fire.


    For the rest of the evening, Nyx carried on drinking until her vision blurred. She tried to drown the growing heaviness in her chest, but that didn''t seem to work. It only made it grow instead.


    Alistair stopped wrestling Angel, and dug out his bag of weed. They all shared another joint around the fire, including Kismet. After the others dissipated, Nyx gave Kismet a hug, gripping her tight.


    Maybe it was the liquor, but Nyx found herself resisting tears. Grief snuck up on her, a biting sting to the center of her chest. There was no need to say a word. Kismet''s arms wrapped around her, squeezing in return.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: Nothing Good Can Come Of Spilling Secrets

    Kismet finished her breakfast and sat at the kitchen table to scribble a note for Nyx and Angel. They were both still sleeping upstairs. Despite herself, tears rolled down her cheeks, blurring her vision as she wrote. No matter how things turned out, she appreciated everything they had done for her.


    The vision she had of Ivy standing in Julian''s living room distracted her.


    Kismet took a moment to gather her thoughts again. She debated telling them what she saw, but what good would it do? Her skin became cold and clammy. Between this and the impending council meeting, she hardly slept most nights. It was now or never... So, it would have to be never.


    Nothing good can come of spilling secrets. There''s no telling what can of worms I might pop open.


    The last time they spoke prior to the meeting, Daisy requested to reveal the results privately, whatever they may be.


    The morning sun burned the dew off the lawns as she walked, listening to the birds call. The short walk to Daisy''s house seemed to go quicker than Kismet remembered.


    Kismet''s hands shook as she knocked on the door. Her mouth had gone dry. Daisy answered with a wide smile. Her tangerine aura shone even brighter today.


    "Just the girl I wanted to see," Daisy exclaimed. "Come in."


    Once inside, Daisy''s influence quelled Kismet''s anxiety.


    Whatever the results are, I can handle it. I''ve survived on my own before. I can do it again.


    Though anxiety lingered beneath the calm energy infiltrating her aura.


    Surely she wouldn''t be smiling so much if she had bad news?


    Daisy led Kismet to the living room. They took up their usual positions with Daisy on the couch and Kismet on the wicker stool. She inhaled the now familiar scent of sandalwood and sage. That alone was nearly enough to send her into a sort of trance.


    "I won''t keep you waiting on the answer," said Daisy. "The council decided you can stay."


    "Wait, what?" Kismet couldn''t believe it. She had been so certain of rejection.


    "Watcher Liz had nothing but great things to say about you and your work in the library, and I must admit, I''ve grown rather fond of you as well," she said. Then her tone turned a touch more serious. "Which is why I want to ask, why did Nyx lie to Julian about your powers?"


    Kismet winced, but nodded acknowledgement. She swallowed to gather nerve and explained what happened when she went to visit Julian with Nyx and the odd behaviour he was displaying.


    Daisy listened intently to Kismet''s story. A silence settled between them as she took a moment to think. She marveled at the other woman''s ability to keep her face so still. Between Angel and Daisy, she had to brush up on her body language skills, often finding herself struggling to read either of them by facial expression alone. At least Angel tended to be quite expressive.


    "Nyx was right to lie I''m afraid," Daisy sighed. "I''ve covered for you as well."


    Kismet''s heart lurched. Her fingernails dug into her sweaty palms.


    "You''ve seen something, haven''t you?" Daisy asked, keeping her voice low to keep Aiden from potentially overhearing. He was still asleep upstairs.


    "I - I shouldn''t say," said Kismet. Her cheeks burned and she studied the mug on the coffee table. Tension tightened her chest, and she squeezed her hands into fists. "I shouldn''t have, but I used my powers on purpose."


    Daisy furrowed her brow.


    "I didn''t mean to, not really," Kismet said, tears budding in her eyes as she awaited Daisy''s wrath.


    It didn''t come.


    "What did you see?"


    "When I''ve shared secrets in the past..." Kismet caught herself. The soothing atmosphere in the living room coupled with the immense pressure inside her chest coaxed her into vulnerability.


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    Daisy extended her hand, placing it on top of Kismet''s. The older woman''s touch was firm yet gentle. Warmth expanded throughout Kismet''s body, tingling across the surface of her skin. She slumped, relaxing.


    "What happened before?" Daisy asked. Her voice was soft and smooth.


    At first, Kismet thought she would resist this question, but the answer was already on the tip of her tongue, slipping away faster than she could think to catch it. She swallowed, saliva scratching her dry throat, and she pried her lips apart.


    "When I was thirteen, I was sent to live with a couple. Percy and Jade. For a while, things were going alright," Kismet began. She twisted the ends of her sweater sleeves in her fingers. "Then, one day, I slipped up." The horror she had felt in that moment surged inside of her once again and she started to tremble. "I don''t even remember what I said exactly. Maybe I answered something she hadn''t spoken out loud, but regardless, Jade caught me. I remember we were in the kitchen cooking supper.


    "Jade said that it was ok. She wouldn''t tell anyone, but I''d have to do her a favour. I agreed. I didn''t think I had a choice. I thought my life was over." She stopped to take a breath. "I was too scared of The Academy. There''s just too many stories about Ivy."


    Daisy nodded, understanding. "Ivy doesn''t exactly do herself many favours in that regard. She tries, but it''s hard for people to forget what she''s capable of."


    "I''d heard all these boogey-man type stories. So, you can understand why I didn''t want to go," Kismet continued. "All I wanted was to be normal, like everyone else. So I agreed to do anything Jade asked of me. We grew close during that time, or at least it felt like we had, but it wasn''t real." A tear escaped, hot against her cheek.


    The pressure in Kismet''s chest gradually released, but it swirled into nausea. She trembled, becoming cold. A wave of tingly warmth emanating from Daisy, bringing Kismet back into her body.


    "She made me read people''s minds and dig up all their secrets. Jade took me to parties, her friend''s houses, everywhere. At first I liked it. The more I could tell her, the better. She loved the details. The most awful, horrible things made her happy, and I hate to say it, but I was happy too." Kismet choked on her words and propped her face in her free hand, sobbing. "I saw the worst things. The worst. People''s minds are complex, beautiful places but some are darker than others. Everyone thinks terrible things from time to time, they don''t mean anything by it, it''s human nature, but some people are..."


    "I can only imagine," said Daisy. She leaned close to Kismet, patient and waiting. "I''m fortunate to not be privy to the details."


    "It''s awful," Kismet said, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. "But the worst was that Jade collected these secrets and she used them against people any way she could. She manipulated them, or pitted them against each other for her own gains. Then it all came to a head when she spilled the wrong secret and - and one night the neighbor''s husband murdered his wife because she''d been having an affair.


    "After that, Jade got scared and told the authorities what I could do. Some people in suits came. They waited for me after school, and of course I knew they were there to take me away, so I ran. I lived on my own for a while. I had to use my powers sometimes to survive, but I tried not to unless it was absolutely necessary. It took me years, but I finally got an apartment and a job. I tried so hard to stuff it all down and forget everything."


    "I''m so sorry that happened to you," said Daisy. She continued to radiate warmth and the terrible knot in Kismet''s chest loosened. "I hope one day you can see your abilities were not the problem. You were a vulnerable little girl that was manipulated by someone that was meant to love and protect you. They''re a very precious thing and I''m so sorry they were never appropriately trained or appreciated."


    "How do I know it''s not gonna happen all over again if I tell what I saw?" Kismet asked, sniffling.


    "Whatever you say will be kept in this room," said Daisy. "I can promise you that much at least. Whether or not you choose to tell me anything won''t affect anything between us, ok?"


    Kismet closed her eyes to think, taking deep, calming breaths, and made up her mind. She recounted her visit with Nyx''s parents and how she rifled through Jay''s memories. Kismet told Daisy about Ivy pleading with Julian to take Angel in, how they argued and Jay conceded.


    Shame barbed the words, catching them on her tongue, but once she began to speak, the pressure of holding it all in relented.


    "I''m so sorry," Kismet pressed her face in her hands. If there were a way to rip her abilities from her body, she would do it with her bare hands if she had to.


    Daisy got up from her spot on the couch to embrace her. Instantly, Kismet sunk into her arms. The older woman stroked her hair and let her cry, though Kismet felt the gentle push of Daisy''s influence comforting her like a blanket over her shoulders.


    "Have you said anything to Angel or any of the others about this?" Daisy asked when they pulled apart.


    "No," Kismet said.


    Daisy sighed and leaned into the couch cushions. "It was only a matter of time before things got dredged up anyway. The truth has a way of doing that, doesn''t it? It worms its way to the surface sooner or later. I tried to warn Julian. He couldn''t hide this forever, but he never listens." She shook her head. "Look, I don''t know what you''ve all realized, though certain recent events have made me suspicious, but it''s none of my business. Frankly, I hope it all comes out. I wanted Julian to tell the truth from the start. Now he''ll reap what he has sown as far as I''m concerned."


    "Should I tell Angel?" Kismet asked.


    "Use your discretion, but I think Angel deserves the truth. I''ll speak with the others," Daisy said, but her eyes narrowed in thought. "Julian won''t like it, but honestly I think the shoe has dropped. It''ll be best to get ahead of it."


    Despite wanting to keep her distance, curiosity nudged the edges of Kismet''s mind, but she would not pry. If Daisy and the others could be the one to tell him, that would be the proper way of things. She''d keep it to herself until then.

 Chapter Twenty-Five: You Really Did Die, Didnt You?

    Angel lounged on the opposite end of the couch, eating chips and dip, as Kismet smiled and laughed with Nyx. What a rare sight her smile was. It was dazzling in that endearing way she had. Kismet curled up on the far end of the sofa with the folded blankets, her feet tucked up under her. The soft evening sun cast her round face in a golden glow. When Kismet came back, he''d become aware of how scared he''d been to lose her, that she''d be gone as quickly as she''d come and they''d be left with only her letter.


    Nyx sipped her coffee, curled up tighter under her blanket, and nestled into the armchair. Her pink hair was ruffled, still clumped from sea salt and sand even though she''d washed it that morning. A pair of large white sunglasses concealed her eyes.


    "I think I might be dying," she groaned, bringing the mug to her lips for a careful sip. "I''m starting to remember why I stopped doing this."


    "Doing what? Having fun?" Angel teased. "I can see why. You''re crippled by a good time."


    "I''m on my deathbed and this is how you speak to me?"


    "I say it with love."


    Alistair had come over to celebrate with them, and squashed onto the couch between Angel and Kismet. Since hearing of Cassie and Blossom''s departure, he had fallen into melancholy.


    "You seem more upset by Blossom going than Cassie," Nyx teased. "Why don''t you tell her how you feel already?"


    "What good will that do?" Alistair slumped on the sofa, his long legs sprawled out. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes. "She''s leaving regardless, and it''s not like I wanna stop her. They both seem so happy and excited about it."


    "Maybe you could go with them?" Kismet suggested.


    Alistair laughed. "Cass would love that."


    "She''d let you if that''s what Blossom wanted," said Nyx. "She asked me to go, so I don''t think she''d care that much."


    "Wait, what?" The thought of Nyx leaving struck ice into Angel''s veins.


    "Simmer. I''m not going, obviously," Nyx assured him.


    "You can if you want," he grumbled.


    "Ok, here we go," she rolled her eyes. "Well, I don''t want to or else I would have."


    "I''d go if I were you Alice," said Kismet. "If you love someone, you gotta follow them."


    "Like a stalker?" he laughed.


    "No," she said, flushing. "If they love you back, it''s ok."


    Alistair poked her in the side. "You''re such a romantic Kizzy. Well, I dunno if she loves me back. What do you think? You''re the mind reader."


    "Good luck, she''s a steel trap, that one," said Angel.


    Kismet looked away. He noticed how she fidgeted with the ends of her sweater sleeves. Her energy cinched closer to her body.


    A loud knock, more like a thump, at the door interrupted their conversation. Nyx frowned and squirmed out of the armchair to answer it.


    "Was Cass going to stop by or something?" she asked Alistair, heading for the door.


    "Fuck if I know," he shrugged and lit another cigarette.


    "Is Angel here?"


    Angelus recognized his father''s voice and tensed, feeling like he was fourteen again and out past curfew. Alistair spared him a sympathetic glance, but Kismet''s energy shifted, spinning faster into a panic.


    "Yep," he said and got up and went to the door and Nyx stepped back to make space. "I''m here."


    They hadn''t spoken since Julian yelled at him a month ago. Angel had hoped to keep it that way for a bit longer. A cigarette dangled from Julian''s mouth and his eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. At first Angel assumed it was liquor related, but then thought maybe he had been crying and wondered why.


    Julian exhaled smoke, gripping the cigarette between two shaking fingers. "Can I talk to you a minute, Kid?"


    "What did I do?" Angel asked, stepping out onto the porch, and clicked the door shut behind himself. The evening wind was warm. A crow called somewhere in the distance while moths already danced around the porchlight. Crickets sang in the tall grass and one of the neighbors was barbequing. The scent of cooking meat hung in the air.


    "You didn''t do anything," Julian sighed and leaned against the railing. "There''s something I''ve been meaning to tell you for a long while."


    The quiver in his voice made sweat form on the palms of Angel''s hands. He''d never seen his father quite so shaken before and was nearly tempted to comfort him, but didn''t.


    Julian sat on the porch steps and gestured for Angel to join him. For a moment, Angel froze, he didn''t want to go, but he didn''t dare say no, so he squeezed in next to him. They were shoulder to shoulder, uncomfortably close. The sour tang of beer was on his breath. Julian chipped out his cigarette and sighed, deep and heavy.


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    "I knew something was up after Timmy told everyone you died," he began, "but I didn''t want to dig. I didn''t want to look too closely so I wouldn''t have to believe it."


    "What are you talking about?"


    "You really did die, didn''t you?" Julian locked eyes with him. It was less of a question and more a statement.


    "Uh -" Angel stammered, unsure how to respond. His heart pounded until his temples throbbed.


    "It''s ok. I know," said Julian.


    "Did Kismet -"


    "No," said Julian. "I was much harder on her than I should have been. She hasn''t said a word. She didn''t have to."


    "Then how?" He wanted to be sick, and gripped the edge of the porch step. Angel''s fingernails sunk into the soft wood.


    "Did I tell you how Ember died?"


    "No?" Angel frowned, unsure what that had to do with anything. He''d asked what happened to his mother many times, only to receive silence at best or a slap at worst.


    Why would Julian choose now to answer?


    "We were almost here," said Julian, his voice cracking. "We almost made it to the island, but she couldn''t wait. She just had to see it for herself. We were supposed to meet up with Aiden in the morning. At that time, he was using his portals to smuggle mutants over. That''s how we met." He swallowed. "That night, Ember tried to fly to see the island. It was like a myth to us. We spent years trying to find it, unsure if it even existed, but it gave us something to hope for. She was caught almost immediately."


    Angel''s heart twisted. "Did the Watchers kill her?"


    "No. They took her to The Academy." Julian wouldn''t look at him, examining the ground instead. His hands balled into fists. Electricity buzzed about him like a fallen powerline. "That''s where she met Ivy."


    "What?" Angel''s heart was pounding so loud now he could hardly hear himself think.


    "She was there for a year, and in that time, I guess they got to know each other." Julian wiped his eye with a knuckle. "I heard this all from Ivy herself sometime shortly after The Academy fell and the war began."


    Angel blinked, trying to digest the information.


    "So far as I understand, Ivy was not as we know her to be today. From all accounts, she was a quiet girl. At some point after being promoted to Watcher, they put Ember in the basement lab for one reason or another. Who knows. As the stories go, any infraction could get you put down there. Ivy thought she was dead, but when she found out Ember was being kept alive - some guard let it slip I guess - that''s when she killed Derek Vaughn, the original headmaster. Ivy destroyed The Academy to get Ember out, then started the uprising from there."


    Angel wanted to run, pretend like he hadn''t heard a word of this, but he had no choice except to listen. He''d longed for answers. Now he''d do anything to take it all back.


    Julian tried to put his arm around Angel''s shoulders but he moved away.


    "Don''t fucking touch me," he growled. The heat of rage flared in his chest. "You fucking knew and wouldn''t -"


    "Please let me finish," said Julian, letting his arm flop to his side. "You''ll be free to yell at me all you want when I''m done."


    Angel grit his teeth, clenching his hands into fists. Every muscle in his body tightened, wanting to run, but fully fixed him in place. The heat built inside him with nowhere to go. His breath rasped quick and ragged in his ears.


    "When Ivy found Ember in the basement, she was barely alive. They had been doing experiments on her continuously for months. Though Ivy was able to heal her physically, I''m sure it must have been awful." He wiped another tear, still looking at the ground. "They found you as they were leaving."


    Angel''s eyes widened. "Me?" He shot up from the step to glare down at the man he once thought to be his father. "How? What the fuck are you talking about?"


    "They had taken some of Ember''s DNA to make embryos. They were going to do something with them, but she didn''t know what. The scientists called it Operation Pomegranate. Everything they did to her was because of this project. When Ember escaped, she and Ivy found you in some type of synthetic egg. Ember wouldn''t leave without you. You have to know that." Finally, Julian looked at Angel, his eyes swimming with tears.


    The pain in Angel''s chest twisted and rotted rage into a bitter hatred. It was like acid in his lungs, permeating every cell of his being.


    "Like that fucking matters now," Angel snapped, tears streaming down his face. He pictured his poor mother, even younger than he was now, alone and scared in a laboratory basement.


    Did any of them try to get her back? Or did they write her off the minute she was taken?


    There was nothing five teenagers could have done to rescue Ember from The Academy, but his rage was far from logical.


    "After Ivy staged her coup, the two of them tried to bring you to the island. I don''t know details, but Ember died in a battle along the way. Ivy insisted this is where you belong."


    "So you took me in?" Angel asked. "Wow, what a hero. A saint, you are."


    "Angel please -"


    "How did I get my powers then?" he demanded, already knowing the answer. It gnawed at the base of his heart.


    "Angel," Julian said with a hard look. "They must have been doing all sorts of experiments. Who knows what they did."


    "Did they combine me with Ivy somehow?"


    Julian shrugged, but his eyes were sympathetic. "I mean, it''s possible. I don''t know the ins and outs of it. Ivy had no idea. It wasn''t until you survived that fight with Carl a month ago that I began to suspect -"


    "And you still said nothing?" Angel exclaimed. "I was out here going crazy wondering what was happening to me and you still kept your fucking mouth shut. In fact, you yelled at me -"


    Julian got to his feet, to stand toe-to-toe, glaring up at him, and jabbed a finger toward his chest. "You''re still my son -"


    Angelus stood his ground and glared at him. The fire inside consumed everything in its path until he was certain there would be nothing left of him but ash.


    "I''ve never been your son a day in my life and you never let me forget it."


    "Angel -"


    "Who else knew?" He couldn''t help it and laughed, tossing his hands into the air. "Of course, it would have to be everyone wouldn''t it?" He ticked them off on his fingers. "Daisy, Aiden, Molly and Jay. You were all in on it this whole fucking time and not a single one of you said a word."


    "I asked them not to. Don''t be mad at them, they promised, and to their credit each of them, especially Daisy, nagged me to tell you every step of the way, but there was a chance you''d go your whole life never needing to know this. Why would I want to cause you so much pain?"


    "This explains why you hate me so much."


    Now I finally know what''s wrong with me, why something''s been missing all these years. I was cooked up in some lab for who knows what reason. Maybe I was made wrong right from the start.


    "After Ember was taken I just wanted to grieve in peace. I wanted to finally have a life, or at least try to have the one we''d planned, and you were so hard to handle. You wouldn''t give me a minute''s rest. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?" Julian''s face turned red under his thick beard. "I didn''t know what to do with you. Ivy just tossed you at me and I never wanted -" his eyes widened as he realized what he had said. and he attempted to back peddle, but it was too late.


    Blinded by tears and throbbing rage, Angel turned on his heels and marched across the lawn. His flesh burned. Even with his shirt now stripped off and the cool wind against his skin, the heat consumed him from the inside out. His wings emerged, whipping up the air. Angel jumped and was airborne. He flew off, uncertain where he was going, but it didn''t matter.

 Chapter Twenty-Six: Anything But Fragile

    "What the fuck did you say to him?" Nyx yelled as she marched onto the porch, storming toward Julian. Alistair and Kismet rushed behind her. Their voices calling for her to wait up, to calm down, sounded distant though they were only a few steps apart.


    Julian watched the empty sky. His mouth still hung open. Standing in the middle of the lawn, he almost looked small. The tall grass drowned him.


    It didn''t take Nyx long to close the distance. Fury boiled under her skin. All she''d heard from inside were raised voices and harsh tones. Kismet had sat there utterly silent and horrified.


    "I''ll find Angel," Kismet called, already hurrying across the lawn to the road.


    Nyx Laser focused on Julian. She was only vaguely aware of Kismet sprinting off toward the sidewalk.


    The fight sucked out of him. Julian slouched, hanging his head.


    "What did you say?" Nyx demanded.


    Julian looked up at her. Tears poured from his bloodshot eyes. Nyx nearly stumbled. Where she had expected rage, there was only grief. What was she supposed to do with that? His tears softened her own anger, if only a little. Alistair caught up to them and stood at her side. He towered over the older man.


    "I need to tell you both something," Julian said, his voice hoarse and tired.


    Nyx''s heart thundered, lodged deep in her throat.


    "You might want to sit down." He wiped a hand across his beard.


    "Do you want to come in?" Alistair offered, much to Nyx''s chagrin.


    He can say what he has to say out here on the lawn for all I care.


    Julian agreed, and the three returned to the living room. She sat with her brother on the couch while Julian hunched in the armchair. He dug out a cigarette and lit it, taking his time. Nyx''s heart pounded. Her mind raced thinking of a thousand horrible possibilities. She picked at the hem of her flannel shirt, then realized it was Angel''s and gripped tighter.


    Isn''t this the shirt we fought over in the shed? That feels like a lifetime ago.


    They sat in silence as Julian repeated the tale of how Ivy had brought Angel as an egg to the island. He told them Angel was created in the basement laboratory deep within The Academy.


    Nyx''s stomach churned, gripping Alistair''s fingers tight. The room grew dark. The orange lava lamp on the side table cast Julian''s face in a faint glow. Normally, the limited light was soft, but now turned sour and sinister, like his skin was stained with blood.


    "Why wouldn''t you tell him?" Nyx asked when Julian finished speaking. Emotion rioted like a caged animal beating against the confines of her ribs.


    Alistair blinked, breathless with shock.


    Julian exhaled a long drag from his cigarette. "What good would it have done him?" He looked away, watching the smoke twist in the tangerine light. "It was too much. Too painful."


    "For who?" Nyx snapped. "You? You hid from the truth and forced everyone to play along to save your fragile ego."


    "You don''t know what you''re talking about," Julian growled, glaring at her. "The Academy used to be an R and D branch of the Gleodem government. Whoever made Angel would have been commissioned by them. They would have been doing it for a reason. Maybe they would want him back if they ever found out? Maybe they didn''t stop what they were doing and got better at hiding it? How do we know this Operation Pomegranate isn''t still a thing? I had to protect him and this island. If word ever got out, the consequences could be devastating."


    "Do you think something like that would be possible? Ivy would lose her mind," Alistair said. "Would they really come after him?"


    "Ivy losing her mind is exactly what I''ve been trying to avoid," said Julian, tapping the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table. "I didn''t know what had been done to him exactly, but I figured it must have been important. If whoever was in charge of this Operation Pomegranate discovered this is where their egg ended up, they might have tried to come for him. You can imagine how Ivy would respond. It was better to forget this ever happened."


    "Better for you perhaps," said Nyx, glaring at Julian.


    "I think Angel developing Ivy''s powers changes things," Alistair said. "They must have used Ivy''s DNA too. If she knew that, she might want to help him with his powers rather than hurt him."


    "Would she be that sentimental?" Nyx asked, genuinely curious. Ivy''s wrath was notorious, but her mercy had filled stadiums and crafted a religion. Anything was possible.


    "She seemed to be at one time." Julian''s eyes danced to the side. It was only for a moment, but there was some uncertainty there.


    Nyx nibbled her lip, her stomach flipping. No matter what Angel chose, he was stuck. Hiding his powers would be painful, if it was possible at all, but revealing them could be so much worse than she had anticipated in the first place. After all this, Ivy was their only glimmer of hope - that is, if she would choose to help him. Perhaps Ivy would even protect him.


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    How could we even ask for her help without risking everything?


    "That was another reason I wanted to keep things quiet," Julian said, putting his hand over his mouth to think. He cleared his throat. "I was terrified she''d come back for him one day. Ember''s insistence that he come here was the only reason she''d left Angel in the first place. When I found out he''d manifested these abilities, I felt for sure one way or another she''d come for him."


    "Maybe she should," Nyx snapped. "He might be better off."


    "He wouldn''t get a choice," said Alistair, staring at his fists curled in his lap. "If she''s coming to take him, or coming to kill him, either way, he wouldn''t get an option."


    Nyx''s eyes widened as her blood ran cold.


    Her mind surged, rifling through potential scenarios and outcomes.


    There has to be a way to dig Angel out of this. If he were to be cornered, he''d do what anyone else would, and protect himself. Then he''d become like Ivy, and he made me promise... That wouldn''t happen. No way. Even if he did have to defend himself, he''d never be like her.


    Ivy''s shimmering translucent skin haunted her mind''s eye - so much like glass though she was anything but fragile.


    "Angel isn''t going to want to go to The Academy," said Alistair. "He won''t want anything to do with Ivy and whatever grand schemes she''d cook up for him. It''s not happening."


    "Maybe she wouldn''t try to control him?" Nyx asked. "Maybe he could learn and then carve his own path?"


    Julian leaned forward and crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "There''s no way she''d let him be normal. Not with those abilities. He''s too useful not to train, and too dangerous to let free."


    "At this point, hiding his abilities is only another kind of prison," Nyx argued. "He''ll reveal them sooner or later -"


    I wish I had realized this sooner.


    "Maybe we should go look for him? Hmm?" Alistair interrupted with an edge to his voice. "Here''s a thought - Maybe asking Angel about what''s best for Angel might be the best course of action. Let''s get him through this, then follow the rest as it comes." He got to his feet and gestured to the door. "Shall we?"


    Nyx got off the couch. Panic set into the pit of her stomach, picturing Angel out there all alone. Kismet had a head start and Nyx hoped she had found him already. If her own heart was this torn, she could only imagine how he must be feeling.


    How could they all hide this for so long? Not even Mom and Dad said a word.


    They decided it would be better if Julian did not come with them. Instead, he agreed to wait at home. Nyx and Alistair headed out together to check Angel''s house first. Only the street lamps lit their way. Static hung in the air, raising the hairs on her forearms. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, concealing the stars. A pressure promising rain pushed in from the ocean.


    "Someone should have done something," said Nyx. "If Ivy or the Gleodem government, or whoever tries to come for him, I don''t think anyone will protect him. Not when the risk is starting another war."


    "Come on now," Alistair said, but uncertainty trembled in his voice. "I will. You will."


    "What are we gonna do? Bite their ankles?" Nyx laughed and kicked a chunk of loose asphalt as if to serve as punctuation. "It''s always come down to us."


    "What about Kismet? She would help in a heartbeat," he said. "Hey, I see that look. Don''t underestimate her. Telepathy can be intense, or was that jealousy I noticed?"


    Nyx didn''t want to admit the prickly feeling that had come over her at Alistair''s suggestion. The more people willing to help Angel, the better. Still, this nasty little part of her insisted she needed to be the one to do it.


    "No, not at all," she said.


    They turned onto Angel''s street. When they reached his cabin, there were no lights on. That didn''t mean much. The front door was unlocked and they let themselves in, but the house was empty.


    "Grub!" Alistair yelled repeatedly to no answer. He turned to Nyx. "We could try the beach?"


    Her heart beat pure panic now. She could only nod in agreement. They left the house, heading the way they''d come. Nyx periodically glanced at the sky. Utterly empty. Not even the moon was visible through the thick clouds.


    "His guitar was gone," said Alistair.


    Nyx swallowed. Saliva scratched all the way down, painful around the lump in her throat.


    "That could be a good sign," she said. Her voice was heavy. It seemed no matter how quickly they moved, they couldn''t get to the beach fast enough. The stillness of the neighborhood was liminal, like she walked inside a dream.


    Her hands curled into fists. The warm wind carried the smell of petrichor in from the sea. Nyx sighed. It was all spinning so fast out of control and she wanted nothing more than to pull it back in.


    "I need to fix this," she said. Either speaking it out loud as a plea to the universe or a confession. Nyx wasn''t sure which.


    "All we can do is be there for him. I''m telling you, when you try to manage things it''ll make it worse. Just being around helps more than you think."


    They turned down another street, passing rows of cabins. Both walked as quickly as they could. Now they heard the waves grinding against the rocks. She tasted the tang of salt. Storm gray water peeked from behind the houses, stretching toward the horizon. The far off city lights of Happsburg twinkled, faint in the darkness.


    "I''m not going to stand by and let anything happen to him," she said. "We''re not kids anymore Alice."


    "Neither is he. You gotta let him make his own choices."


    She glared at him, her jaw clenched. Nyx began to argue, but Alistair cut her off.


    "We''ll be there for him like always, but he''s gotta decide for himself how to handle this. He''s gotta process this in his own way."


    "His way is dangerous," Nyx snapped.


    "We need to trust him," said Alistair. His voice hardened and he looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "Can you do that?"


    "I don''t think I can," she said. The revelation smacked her in the face. The words caught around the lump in her throat, sore like a thumb against bruised skin. "He hasn''t given me much reason to."


    Alistair sighed, but nodded slightly. "I get it. It''s different for you. As a boyfriend, he hasn''t been loyal, dependable or predictable. Nowhere close. But you gotta let go Nyx. Holy shit. Let the guy make his own decisions and if you don''t like ''em, leave, but you can''t control him and you can''t shield him forever."


    Nyx wanted to argue, but her brother was right. Tears bit the edges of her eyes, blurring her vision as she placed her feet on the rocks.


    The secluded pocket of beach was empty. No one sat on the log. The fire pit was nothing but cold ash.


    "Angel!" she screamed. There was no answer but the sloshing of the waves.


    "Grub!"


    Nyx looked up at her brother. The possibility that Angel may not even be on the island anymore crossed her mind.


    What would happens then?


    Alistair searched the shore for any sign of him. "Where the fuck is he?"


    Only the sound of waves rolling against the rocks echoed a response.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: I Could Only Ever Play For Her

    The walk through the forest had been daunting. The dim light of evening faded, reducing visibility. If not for the trail''s familiarity, it may have been impossible to navigate. The warm wind rustled the leaves. Squirrels chittered to one another as they jumped across trees. She stumbled, nearly tripping several times on jutting rocks and unburied tree roots.


    Finally, Kismet stood at the edge of the clearing. Angelus sat on the ground, propped on his forearms with a red acoustic guitar in his lap. Both he and the instrument were surrounded in a light blue aura, faintly illuminating the clearing. The blue mingled with the soft orange light of the setting sun filtered through the canopy of leaves. Angel''s long black hair fell across his bare chest. Large black wings lazily folded behind him.


    For a moment, Kismet worried he''d vanish like the mythological entities she''d read so much about. She didn''t dare breathe.


    A twig snapped, echoing in the silent forest. Angel looked up, staring in her direction like a startled deer.


    "It''s ok Kizzy," Angel said, "this is your spot too."


    She approached slowly. Like a moth, his light guided her forward. Kismet sat next to him. Even at a slight distance, she felt his warmth. It was magnetic. The surge of energy rolling across the contours of his body carried a sizzling-pressure like the rolling approach of a thunder storm. Bottled lightning slithered under his skin.


    "I''m sorry," she said.


    "What do you have to be sorry for?" He picked up the guitar, fiddling with the tuners.


    "I -"


    "I''m fine Kizzy, please, go home and tell Nyx I''m alright."


    His voice was so flat and even it rippled a chill up her spine.


    "I''m not leaving without you," she said. There was no way to express how loneliness and betrayal could burn its way through to the bone.


    He trailed his fingers across the strings of the guitar, plucking notes that rang out in the still silence. She didn''t force the conversation and let the silence settle between them. A few odd chords strummed in the night air. In the meantime, Kismet laid on the moss, staring up at the trees and the heavy blanket of clouds.


    When Angel had spoken with Julian earlier, she had seen it all and felt the contempt, the burden, the fear... but there had been love buried in there somewhere too.


    That somehow makes it harder. How can Angel ever trust that feeling again? Love is now contaminated.


    "I expected it from Julian, but not the others," he said softly.


    Nausea rolled in her gut, so she stayed on the ground and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Sickened by herself, she wanted to discard her skin and slither away.


    "I saw something when I met Jay that time," she confessed. The words spewed out in an acidic rush. "I''m so, so sorry. I didn''t know what to do. I didn''t know what it meant. I wanted to tell you, but -"


    Angel put his guitar on the grass and scooched closer to her. The heat of his light grazed across her body. She tensed, refusing to open her eyes, so certain he would yell... or worse...


    "I figured you would have," he said gently. "It''s ok." Angel laid next to her on the moss and used his folded arms as a pillow.


    Kismet finally opened her eyes and turned to look at him. The light had dimmed, shrinking closer to his body, as if he were bathed in moonlight.


    "You can be mad at me if you want," she said. "I''m sorry I kept it from you."


    "It wasn''t your place to tell me," he said. "They could have said something at any point over the past two decades. I asked Julian so many times -" Angel cleared his throat. "How do you do it Kizzy? I asked you before, but seriously, how did you survive out there on your own?"


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    She picked at the moss with her fingers, idly pulling it up in damp chunks. "That''s just it. I was only surviving. I didn''t get to live. I reacted, moving from one beat to the next, coping from one incident to another. I had no choice but to keep going."


    "Was it hard to leave?" he asked.


    "Not as hard as you might think," she said. "There was nothing for me there. The one person in the world I thought I could trust turned out to be... less than ideal," she swallowed. Kevin''s sharp edges cut through her memories. Everything about him had been hard and abrasive, scraping away until she was raw. "I had no one. So when he proved to be a sham too... I blamed myself. There was something wrong with me. I needed to come to the island to protect people from me and what I can do, or get fixed."


    "You don''t feel that way now?" He looked over at her, meeting eyes. There was a softness in the way he looked at her. Innocent in his genuine curiosity.


    "You guys helped me so much," she sniffed. The moss warmed in her hand. Soil clumped between her fingers. "Not just in the literal way. I didn''t think anyone could ever care about me, that I had to change myself entirely before anyone could ever like me, let alone love me. Then Alistair came along. Then you and Nyx."


    "I''m glad you came," he said. Angel looked up at the sky, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. "I need to get the fuck off this island."


    "Where will you go?" Kismet''s stomach dropped. Her fingernails sunk into the soft earth. There was no sense arguing.


    "Nowhere in particular."


    Kismet sat up, dusting the pieces of detritus from her t-shirt. Her heart stuck in the base of her throat, but she couldn''t ask him to stay.


    "I think we should go home. Nyx and Alistair must be worried sick." Sweat formed on Kismet''s palms and she wiped them on the front of her jeans. Secondhand heartbreak hurt almost as much as the real deal.


    Perhaps Nyx will go with him?


    "You''re not going to tell me it''s a bad idea?" he asked, getting up.


    They both headed toward the trail. Angel left his wings out. Long primary feathers trailed through the leaves as they walked. He cradled the guitar in his arms.


    "No, why would I?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think it''s a bad idea? I mean, there''s risks I guess, but we could argue there''s a risk in staying too. It''s up to you."


    Angel was quiet as they wove through the woods. The faint light emanating from him made the trip back easier. The trees thinned and they emerged onto a dirt road. Angel ruffled his feathers and glanced to the right toward the empty road. The sun had set. Heavy clouds pressed overhead.


    "This is where we part ways," he said. "Can you make it back on your own alright?"


    "I really think you should come to Nyx''s with me."


    He shook his head. "I gotta go."


    Kismet had hoped Angel would have had enough time to rethink things. On the surface, he appeared so calm and level headed, like they were talking about going to the store. She actually missed her abilities, then she could understand what was going through his head.


    "If you''re sure?" she asked. The thought of returning to Nyx without him made her want to throw up. "Can''t you talk to Nyx at least? No matter what you''re going through right now, she doesn''t deserve this."


    Angel tensed, clenching his jaw and briefly glanced away. He passed the guitar to Kismet. "Give this to her," he said.


    It was heavier than she''d expected. "Give it yourself." She held it out for him, but Angel wouldn''t take it, shaking his head instead.


    "Kismet, please, I can''t."


    "But it''s your guitar..." Kismet looked down at the instrument in her hands. The blue light had already absorbed. It was no longer shining.


    "I could only ever play for her anyway," Angel sighed. He turned, spreading his wings slightly once he had the space.


    "She won''t forgive you this time," Kismet said, anger creeping into her voice despite herself. "Or is that what you want?"


    Angel stopped and looked back, steel in his eyes. "Don''t act like you''ve never run away."


    He spread his wings, testing the wind. Kismet''s heart beat a heavy pulse in her skull, terrified he''d fly off any second. Regardless, she stepped toward him.


    "That''s different," she said, but the heat of rage coloured her cheeks. "You have people here that love you. It''s all around you, all the time, but you won''t take it. You''re like a blind man in a desert, dying of thirst with no idea an oasis is two feet in front of you, and honestly, that makes me so sad."


    He rounded on her, blue eyes shining like diamonds, but she stood her ground and glared at him.


    "What do you want from me?" he growled.


    "Just talk to her!"


    "Trust me, this way is better. She''ll move on."


    "Stop pretending your cowardice is some noble deed to protect her from you and your tragedy. Grow up."


    "How could you possibly understand?" he asked, this time his tone had softened. He turned toward her with slumped wings dragging long feathers through the dusty road.


    "I can relate more than you know," she said, unable to hide the edge in her voice. "It hurts worse than anything to not belong anywhere. Angel, it''s impossibly painful right now, but you do have a home here."


    "I can''t stay."


    "Don''t stay then, just talk to Nyx before you go," she said. "Please. I don''t need my telepathy to see that you''re terrified. If you have nothing to lose then why are you so scared? If it''s yourself then go, but if it''s Nyx then you need to at least talk to her. You owe her that much."


    He sighed, then nodded. "Fine, but I gotta do this one thing first, then I''ll come find her."


    "What are you planning?"


    "Read my mind if you wanna know so bad," he quipped, turning back down the road. This time he snapped his wings open and jumped into the air, flapping until he was airborne. The force of his wings blew her hair back. She shielded her eyes to watch him go before the night swallowed him whole.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Lich

    The light was no longer visible. Instead, it lingered beneath Angel''s skin. Its warmth mingled with the intense heat of his anger. The pendulum had sung so far through his fury it flew past mindless rage to a cold, distant logic. His mind was clear, but on the surface only. A storm of painful thoughts barbed in his subconscious.


    There''s no coming back from this. How can I continue life here as normal, like nothing happened and move on?


    Warm summer wind moved over and under Angel''s wings as he flew over the trees. Petrichor and ozone lingered in the air. Thunder was on its way.


    The triplets, as always, were his only link to sanity.


    How can I face them now? It hurts too much.


    Beneath all the anguish, a nothingness permeated throughout his being. It oozed through him, black and sticky like tar.


    This was what he was running from and he knew it. The truth made too much sense.


    No wonder Julian could never love me. How could anyone? Nyx thinks she does, but now she''ll surely see I''m empty. I need to feel something. Anything.


    The parking-lot was busier than he''d ever seen it. Cars, trucks, motorcycles - vehicles of all sorts crowded the clearing. People gathered in groups, passing cigarettes or joints between them. The Barn threatened to burst at the seams, stuffed to the brim with patrons. Smoke blanketed the air, coloured by the flashing strobe lights. Music with heavy guitar riffs and pounding, violent drums smashed overhead from struggling speakers.


    The mass of energy in the room raised the hairs on his forearms. Thick and miasmic. It flowed outside and inside all at the same time. It was like dunking underwater and becoming acutely aware of being completely submerged and united.


    No way all of these people were from the island. He recognized the more refined, stylish outfits of the mainland. Some serious money must be passing hands tonight. Angel crowded over to the bar. There was no Cassie. He bought a couple of shots. The liquor went down like fire.


    To his sensitive ears, the sound of fists on flesh could not be drowned out, not even by the pounding music or raucous cheers and voices. Bones snapped and crunched. Reflexively, he touched his ribs, remembering how they''d snapped under Carl''s fists a month before.


    The crowd cheered. The music stopped.


    "Aluminum Carl does it again!" Jeff called. His amplified voice boomed across the sea of people. "Still undefeated! One hundred-thousand dollars is on the table!"


    Volunteers bellowed over each other, scrambling to get a shot at getting demolished or winning the money.


    Angel drummed his fingers against the top of the bar. Not yet. He''d wait until the eager ones were out of the way. He grit his teeth. There was still a chance someone else could win, but waiting would be best.


    Kismet''s words pricked at his brain.


    What is love anyway?


    It was like trying to understand a colour he''d never seen.


    There''s gotta be something broken in me. Nyx doesn''t deserve to waste her efforts.


    His wallet thinned as the night went on, drinking one shot after another. This time when Jeff announced Carl''s victory, there were a few murmurs within the crowd, but the enthusiasm had died down.


    Angel plunked his glass on the counter.


    "I''ll do it!" he yelled.


    Jeff scanned the crowd, looking for who had spoken, then found Angel. A grin split across his weasel-thin face. "Grub! You''re alive!"


    The crowd rotated. People shuffled to try and see who Jeff was speaking to.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "Come to be flattened again?"


    "If you''ll let me," Angel said, unwavered.


    "It''s your funeral." Jeff shrugged and gestured for him to come forward.


    Angel moved through the crowd toward the ring of hay bales. Their energy was like a thin gossamer around him. It was like swimming through cobwebs.


    Blood stained Carl''s knuckles and streaked across his bare chest. Sweat sheened on his rippling muscles. The strobe lights flashed a prism of colours, and for a moment, Angel''s senses were so overwhelmed it all blended together. Then it twisted. Everything sharpened into a crisp focus again.


    Carl grinned from across the ring. Blood oozed between broken teeth.


    Heat erupted within Angel''s chest, a solar flare desperate to escape.


    Nyx will kill me if Carl doesn''t. Maybe that''s what I want even more than the money. Running won''t be enough. It''s not like I didn''t warn her.


    Carl threw the first punch. Angel ducked, caught him around the waist and pushed his body weight forward. The force of his momentum knocked the larger man off balance and Carl fell backward.


    Angel''s fist connected with Carl''s jaw. Knuckles cracked and broke against metal. They shattered and reformed in seconds.


    A shocked moment of marvel was all it took for Carl to regain his bearings. A metal fist smashed into Angel''s stomach and he fell backward. He hit the dirt. It was damp and made muddy with the blood of previous opponents. Angel got to his feet and squared up. Each of them eyed the other, anticipating movement.


    Angel lunged. Carl struck him in the face like a bat smacking a ball. He turned, spitting a tooth. Blood was thick and warm in his mouth. Angel spread his wings. When Carl swung again, Angel caught his fist, then punched with the other. His knuckles caught the side of Carl''s head.


    The larger man grunted and blinked, but hardly stumbled.


    "Nice try," he snarled. Metal spread upward from the center of his chest. It flowed outward across every inch of his skin until he was completely covered. "Alright. Now we''re playing for keeps."


    Angel grit his teeth and braced himself. Sweat formed on the back of his neck. His breath rasped in his ears. The sound of the drums masked his rapid heartbeat.


    Carl threw a right hook. Angel tried to duck but the metallic fist crashed into his left temple. He blinked away stars as Carl''s elbow caught him on the other side. As Angel fell, Carl brought his knee up to meet him. His vision blinked out, clipping back in when he was on the ground again.


    A boot smashed into Angel''s ribs. The snap was loud. Pain cut through his rage. He sucked in a breath through his teeth even as his ribs healed.


    He started to laugh. It was absurd.


    "What is wrong with you?" Carl growled, kicking him again.


    It hurt less and healed faster. Angel scrambled away and staggered to his feet.


    Using his wings for leverage, he leapt forward and threw a punch. Carl tried to block it with his forearm, but Angel''s fist landed with a metallic clang. Angel kept hitting. One after the other.


    Carl staggered backward.


    Knuckles broke and split apart against the other man''s metal jaw. Then the metal began to dent. Angel thrashed forward. Ignited. Carl braced himself and blocked a punch with his arm then drove a knee into Angel''s stomach again.


    Angel gasped, the wind knocked out of him. He recovered and swung again. This time the metal on Carl''s head began to recede. Panic clouded his eyes, as he continued to attempt to block Angel''s blows.


    Thoughts fled from Angel''s mind, mesmerized by his own fists landing one after the other until Carl''s nose crunched. Blood splurted over his face and down his chest.


    The energy Angel generated as he moved consumed him. The light enveloped his entire body, but he was too delirious with it to care.


    Another punch landed on flesh. Angel''s fist connected with the side of Carl''s temple. The man swayed. Then fell.


    In a daze, panting for breath, Angel finally heard the silence of the crowd. Not even the band played.


    Now he realized the blue glow surrounding his body. Blood coated his fists, splashing up his forearms. The crowd stared at him with slacked jaws and horror in their eyes. Jeff stayed on the opposite side of the hay bales.


    "What are you waiting for?" Angel asked, then spat blood. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I fucking won didn''t I?"


    Jeff blinked then moved forward, climbing over the hay bales as if on autopilot. His purple overcoat caught on the loose chunks of hay. The room was now so silent, his scrambling footsteps on the dirt could be heard above the nervous murmurs of the people. He wouldn''t touch Angel to raise his arm in victory. That was fine. It made no difference.


    Some of Carl''s friends jumped in to his aid. The large man groaned, then sat up. The metal coating his flesh receded entirely. Braced between the two men, he hobbled out of the ring.


    "The Lich wins!" Jeff called.


    A Lich. A corpse returned. Is that what I am now?


    Jeff''s words rang true.


    The familiarity of announcing a winner brought Jeff back to himself. Perhaps he saw dollar signs. Carl had raked it in for weeks and now he''d need a new champion. Tough luck. Angel had no intentions of hanging around. Especially not now.


    Bloodthirst outweighed the crowd''s fear and trepidation. As if making up their minds, and following Jeff''s enthusiastic lead, the crowd erupted into cheers.


    Angel''s heart pounded and his chest heaved, struggling to catch his breath. He thought standing on this side of the burning bridge would feel righteous. Instead, it was hollow. The tar pit of emptiness remained. If anything it was deeper than before. All he wanted was to go home to Nyx, but it was all ashes now.


    There was nothing left for him to do but watch the flames.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine: Chaos is In His Veins

    They emerged from the beach and onto the street as the clouds broke. Nyx looked at her brother. The water ran off his blond hair as he pushed it out of his eyes.


    "I think we better head back," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the rain and crashing waves.


    She wanted to refuse. Angel was still out there somewhere. Lightning flashed and Nyx gasped, catching the words in her throat. Thunder boomed. In this weather, there was nothing they could do no matter how long they stayed out.


    "Ok, we''ll go home," she sighed. They hurried toward the cabin. Rain soaked her to the skin. It ran down her face, hiding her tears. She inhaled shuddering breaths. They followed the street up the gently sloping hill. Fighting against the storm made it that much steeper. The wind blasted rain full in their face.


    Lightning lit the sky. Nyx grabbed her brother''s hand. Her chest tightened. Alistair squeezed her fingers and offered a reassuring smile, but his green eyes were dark with worry. The expression did not suit him.


    When they finally reached the cabin, Kismet was already inside. She slumped on the couch, cradling the red guitar in her lap. The orange lava-lamp light cast her in a tangerine glow. The guitar radiated a thin, pale blue light around its edges in the darkness.


    "You found him?" Nyx asked, peeling her boots off in the porch. Hope wedged through the hard ball of tension in her chest.


    "I''m sorry," Kismet said, softly. "I asked him to come back with me, but he wouldn''t."


    Nyx''s stomach dropped. The delicate strands of hope so recently woven in her heart severed, leaving her disoriented and sick.


    They joined Kismet on the couch. The siblings squashed her between them. The cushion grew damp as Nyx''s hair and clothing dripped. Kismet must be getting wet too, but if she noticed, she didn''t seem to care.


    "He''s leaving the island," said Kismet.


    "Where the hell is he gonna go?" Alistair asked.


    "He said he had one more thing to do before he leaves," she explained. "He''s supposed to come back here, but who knows."


    The room spun. Nyx gripped the arm of the sofa, her fingernails dug into the frayed fabric to keep steady.


    How can he leave after everything? I''m on his side. We could get through this if he''d only talk to me. Do I mean nothing to him?


    "I mean, he can''t go far. He''s broke," said Alistair. "There''s lots of places to stay on the mainland I suppose, but that won''t last -"


    "He''s going to fight Carl," said Nyx. Her jaw clenched so hard pain zinged through her temples. She shot up and headed for the door.


    Alistair went after her. She stooped to pull on her soaked boots. The wet leather wouldn''t co-operate and she cursed.


    "Nyx, please, look outside, you can''t go out there," he said. As if to prove his point, another round of thunder shook the cabin.


    Kismet joined them in the porch. She shook all over, her hazel eyes glazed and distant. "Maybe we should wait."


    "We can''t afford to wait," Nyx snapped. She sat on the floor, fighting with her shoes and tried not to scream. "We have to stop him before he reveals his powers -"


    Alistair''s heavy hand on her shoulder silenced her. She looked up at her brother with wide, wild eyes.


    "Go dry off and get comfy," he said gently. "I''ll make coffee, or would you rather coco?"


    "Coco please," she muttered, hanging her head. Alistair must be hurting too, yet here he was, caring for her instead. When Nyx stood up, she wrapped her arms around him. Alistair was just as damp as she was, but warm and solid. He embraced her, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you," she muttered.


    Nyx did as he asked, moving like molasses as she went to the washroom and dried off. She didn''t bother to change into fresh street clothes, opting for pajamas instead. She gave Alistair an outfit Angel had left behind. The t-shirt and jeans were a bit too small for him, but would have to do for now.


    They nursed their hot chocolate. Alistair lounged on the couch, taking up most of the space. Kismet was squeezed into the corner, barely lucid. She stared off, snapping back to reality at a moment''s notice.


    "You holding up alright?" Alistair asked her.


    Kismet nodded, then seemed to catch herself. "Actually, no," she said. "I''m having a hard time managing things right now. My head is quite loud at the moment."


    "What do you need?" Nyx asked. She rested her cigarette in the ashtray on the side table. Helping Kismet would be a welcome distraction.


    "I dunno," she said. Kismet blinked, her eyelids heavy and slow.


    "How about a bath?" Nyx suggested and Kismet agreed. "I''ll run one for you."


    "I can -"


    "No, no, rest," Nyx insisted and hurried off. She took the opportunity to be meticulous, adding bubbles, bombs and candles. Kismet thanked her profusely, then sealed herself inside the washroom like a sacred tomb.


    "Fucking Angel," Alistair muttered when Nyx returned, shaking his head. "I wish I could say I can''t believe this, but this is right on brand. What are you gonna do when he gets here?"


    Nyx took her cigarette from the ashtray and relit it. "We''re done." The words were so final. They sat like heavy stones in her mouth. "I can''t do it anymore."


    "I love Grub, I really do, and I''m sure he''ll be a great boyfriend to someone someday, but he''s not that right now."


    "You think he can change?"


    "He''s too stubborn. Chaos is in his veins. He can''t help it."


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "I''m sick of being collateral damage," she said, exhaling a thick plume of smoke.


    Kismet joined them after her bath, feeling more grounded. They all tried to stay up to wait, but the night dragged on, with no sign of Angelus.


    Nyx slouched in the armchair, finishing another cigarette. She''d been chain smoking all night. Three o''clock flashed on the VCR beneath the television. Her hand shook as her knee bounced. Despite their best efforts, Alistair and Kismet had fallen asleep together on the couch. Kismet cuddled against him beneath a blanket, his arm lazily tossed over her.


    The thunder had stopped, but rain continued to lash against the cabin walls. A soft thump upstairs caught her attention. The sound of the window sliding shut. Her heart squeezed. Sweat formed on her palms.


    She steeled herself and got up, swallowing the rage bubbling to the surface. Nyx crept up the narrow stairs, gliding her hand along the wall in the darkness.


    Angelus stood in front of her bedroom window with a trash bag wrapped tight around a small thick bundle. Rain ran off his body, dripping from his long black hair onto the floor. His jeans were soaked through. Large black wings rounded over his head, water trailing over his feathers. Faint blue light glowed from within his body. Blood stained his knuckles crimson. Angel''s eyes were distant, but sharp as broken quartz.


    Pain twisted the knife in her stomach. Tears burned her throat and eyes. She wanted to embrace him, slap him, hug him, scream, beg him to stay, make him leave, but she wouldn''t. A million words rushed to the surface, but they all caught in her mouth. Her heart was, and always had been, in his hands no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.


    "Here," he said, and held out the bundled up trash bag. "You can have half. Maybe Kismet can get set up somewhere too."


    "Fuck you," she spat. "You think I want your money?"


    Angel didn''t argue. Instead, he reached in the bag and pulled out a thick stack of one hundred dollar bills. Despite herself, Nyx''s eyes widened. She''d never seen so much cash in one place. That was far more than she''d make in a year working at the market. He tossed the wad on the bed.


    "Do you ever fucking listen to me?" she exclaimed. Fury made her voice shrill. "I said I don''t want it!"


    "You''ll change your mind."


    Nyx grabbed the stack. It clung together by the mercy of two rubber bands. She tossed it at Angel and it bounced off his bare chest with a soft thump. He didn''t move to take it.


    Thoughtless in her fury, she shoved him. Surprise more than force made him stumble back a step.


    "Why are you doing this?" she screamed. "All I''ve ever done is love you!" she stopped for a moment, clenching her jaw as realization crept in. "That''s it, isn''t it? That''s the problem. You really hate yourself that much." Nyx was so close to him now. His back was against the wall. The warmth of his light contrasted the boiling wrath writhing under her own skin.


    "I warned you," he growled, but there was little bite. His blue eyes fixed on hers, desperation clouding the edges.


    "This is what you want, isn''t it?" she said, her voice soft, nearly a whisper. "You want me to hate you? Well, like it or not, I''ll love you until the day we die."


    Angel was so still. His skin slick with rain. She felt his careful breathing, the familiar rise and fall of his chest.


    Nyx pulled away, but he stopped her, gently taking her arms, his eyes swimming with tears.


    "I''m so sorry," he said, embracing her. Angel tightened his grip, clinging to her. "I''ve dug myself such a hole, I have to go. I don''t have a choice."


    "Why''d you do it?" Nyx asked, knitting her brow in bewilderment. She got out of the embrace and stepped away. "I truly don''t get it. You were upset, of course, and I''d understand running off to be alone, but to uproot everything and light a match behind you? What the hell are you thinking?"


    "I can''t stay here anymore. Maybe I was scared I''d chicken out."


    "What made you think you had to leave in the first place?"


    "How can I stay knowing everything was a lie?"


    "I don''t think that''s why you''re running," said Nyx. "You''re scared of the conversations you''d need to have if you stayed."


    "What is there to say?" he snapped. His jaw twitched. "No one gave a shit about me, and they still don''t. Granted, most of them tried harder than Julian to care about me, but there was always this feeling. I dunno, like I didn''t belong. Just kinda tolerated. You, Alistair and Cassie were the only ones to ever be genuinely nice to me."


    "Mom and Dad -"


    "If not for being friends with you guys, I don''t think they would have given me the time of day. They don''t even like Julian that much. No one does. There''s just this bond between all of them because they came here together, but no one wants to admit it''s worn thin."


    Exhausted, Nyx sat on the edge of her bed. It was true. Ember''s capture had torn a rift between them, but no one ever said it out loud. Angel was surely a reminder of her, The Old Academy and Ivy all rolled into one.


    He sat next to her on the bed.


    "Come with me," he said.


    "What?" she gasped.


    "Sure? Why not?" he said, scooching closer. Angel draped his arm around her, soaking her shirt with rain water. "Just you and me."


    The warmth and comfort of his embrace was too much. The temptation to give in ripped her apart from the inside.


    "You''re on the run, Angel," she said. "I could sit here and list excuses all day, but the truth is, I don''t want to live like that." The even deeper truth was that she didn''t believe she could hold his attention that long. For now, while the novelty was in full effect, she had no doubt everything would be quite wonderful. Then sooner or later, his eyes would wander, something or someone else was bound to take his fancy, and she''d wake up and realize she''d left everything for nothing. "I wasn''t joking when I outlined my conditions. We''re over."


    "C''mon, you don''t mean that," he said, jostling her shoulder. A quake of concern trembled in his voice.


    The lump in her throat burned. She couldn''t bear to look at him so she studied the mandalas on her pillow cases, the birds on her duvet cover, anything but his glorious face. His eyes alone would kill her if she dared.


    "What did you think would happen? You wanted to leave Angel. You weren''t even going to say good-bye. You think I''d be here pinning away?"


    "Well no, but -"


    "Then what?" she snapped, shaking her head. "People are going to be after you now, and not just Ivy. You''ll never get to be still again. Not for long, anyway. You knew exactly what you were doing when you ran off to fight Carl."


    "Maybe I don''t want to live a life where I hide my abilities?" Angel retracted his arm, his body tensing. "Why is that never an option?"


    "You can do whatever you like, but actions always have consequences. It''s too late to think about it now, the ball is already rolling. The best you can hope for is that Ivy is interested in helping you."


    "I''d never work with her," he said.


    "Alice knew you''d say something like that," she sighed. "If you had come and talked, maybe we could have figured something out. Why can''t you trust us to help you? Have we ever let you down?"


    "I don''t deserve it. I fuck everything up."


    "That''s not true."


    "Yes it is! I don''t know why I do this shit," he put his head in his hands, burying his face in frustration. "I get so angry, and in my head about it. It all seems like a great idea at the time. Then it''s like I come to my senses hours or even a day or so later, and I''ve destroyed everything." Angel looked at her with imploring eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"


    "There''s nothing wrong with you," she said. "All I''ve ever wanted was for you to see that. I''m sorry no one helped you sooner, and now -" her voice broke and she couldn''t continue. Finally, Nyx looked up at him. "Will you stay tonight?"


    He glanced at her. "You want me to?"


    Nyx nodded. The pressure in her chest was too much to bear. Only last night, they were dancing by the fire. She''d give anything to go back. He peeled off his wet jeans and pulled his wings inside. The blue light had diminished, barely visible.


    They crawled into bed. It was so normal. Just like always. Nyx wrapped her arms around his waist, nestling in with no mind to the rain still drying on his skin. Angel put his arm around her, letting her head rest on his chest, idly playing with her hair.


    How can he feel the same when everything has changed?


    "Will you sing me something?" she asked.


    "Ok."


    The song was a familiar ballad. One they''d played together many times before. His voice was low and deep. It mesmerized her how it could resonate yet remain so light and elegant at the same time. The way he varied his range with ease captivated her. She could listen to him for hours.


    She would give anything for Angel to stay this version of himself. This version emerged in his trickster smile and gentle kisses, the way he played with her hair even after she''d fallen asleep, but that version was fleeting and tangible as steam.


    Nyx fell asleep before Angel was finished, and when she woke up, he was gone.

 Chapter Thirty: Some Kind Of Illegal

    Kismet woke alone on the couch. Pain throbbed in her chest, an ache so deep it left her gasping.


    She shook her head, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Crusted tears scratched under her palms.


    The living room window was still open. The scent of rain drying in the sun wafted in on the cool morning breeze. It chilled her skin, bringing her closer to awareness. Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen. Eggs sizzled on the stove. Kismet sat up and peeked over the back of the couch.


    Alistair slouched at the table, nursing a mug of coffee while Nyx was busy at the stove. Navy blue and ash grey ribbons emanated from both siblings. The pain in Kismet''s chest did not belong to her alone.


    To a degree, she understood Angel''s need to peel himself off like a band-aid, but the wound left behind was still open and bleeding.


    "You want eggs?" Alistair asked when he noticed she was awake.


    Kismet nodded and got off the couch, padding into the kitchen to sit with him at the table. Nyx focused on the frying pan, scrambling the eggs with a fork. Oil hissed and spat. She cursed, hopping out of the way.


    "Would you like some help?" Kismet asked.


    "No, I got it," she said. Her body held tight and tense.


    "Those eggs are good and scrambled," said Alistair. "Why not sit down?"


    "I''m fine." She removed the pan from the burner and scraped the eggs onto a plate. "Anyone want any pancakes?"


    Kismet almost wanted to say yes simply to appease her.


    Alistair leaned back, groaning in exasperation. "Please sit down."


    "I will, I will, just let me get this sorted." Nyx arranged the eggs alongside toast on three separate plates before bringing them to the table. "Then I just gotta -"


    "You''re killing me here," he complained.


    Nyx sighed and slouched into the chair between them. She shifted her eggs with a fork. "Are these too fluffy?"


    "They''re fine," said Kismet, taking a bite. They needed more salt, but she didn''t dare say so.


    "Are you sure he''s really gone?" Alistair asked. "Remember when we were thirteen? He ran away but came right -"


    "I''m sure," Nyx snapped, her fork fell, clanking on the ceramic plate.


    "He didn''t say good-bye to me."


    Waves of grief poured from Alistair in long, rippling ribbons.


    Kismet''s stomach churned.


    It''s all my fault. Maybe I didn''t try hard enough to make Angel stay. I shouldn''t have read Jay''s mind or said anything to Daisy at all. I destroyed everything. Again.


    "Is it because he thought we would care if he came from a lab or something?" Alistair asked. "It doesn''t change anything. He''s still the same old Grub to me. I just wish he''d given me an opportunity to say so."


    "You''re probably the only one who could have talked any sense into him," said Nyx.


    After breakfast, Alistair excused himself to go to work and promised to return in the evening.


    Kismet helped Nyx clear the table. The scrape of forks against ceramic plates filled the silence.


    A loud knock on the door made them jump and Nyx put the plate down.


    Angel.


    Kismet cringed in the split second it took Nyx to correct her thought, collect herself again and head for the door. She followed her into the porch.


    Julian stood on the deck, his eyes blood shot. The sclera turned a jaundice yellow.


    "Did Angel come home last night?"


    "No. He didn''t," said Nyx.


    His face fell. It looked craggier and far older than before. Bushy eyebrows scrunched in worry. Magenta sparks flared in his ash grey aura.


    The two women stepped aside so Julian could come inside. They sat together on the sofa and he sank into the armchair.


    "So the rumours are true?" he asked. "About the fight with Carl?"


    "I wouldn''t know," said Nyx. Her mouth pulled into a grim line.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "This isn''t a time for games," he snapped. Red solar flares lashed out around him. "Watcher Liz is going to report the accounts of the fight to Ivy, perhaps even as we speak. So if he''s around here somewhere -"


    "He''s gone," said Nyx.


    A wave of rage and grief rose in Julian. It washed over Kismet like a tsunami. The pressure was almost physical. She braced against the force, and couldn''t bear to look at either of them. Instead, she watched her hands as they fiddled and tugged with the frayed threads of her sleeves.


    "Good," Julian said, but his voice cracked. He looked toward the window, curling his hands into fists in his lap. "She''ll be here soon. If you do know where he went - "


    "I don''t," Nyx said. Every word worked its way through a clenched jaw. "Even if I did I''d never tell her."


    "Good," he nodded. "Hopefully this will all blow over. Angel better have enough sense in his head to stay hidden."


    Kismet knew better than anyone it wasn''t going to be that simple.


    Whether or not Angel chooses to hide his abilities out there or use them on purpose is only going to determine how quickly he gets caught. Sooner or later, someone will see something.


    She bit her fingernails and kept her mouth shut.


    "Why''d you have to go and ruin everything?" Julian asked Kismet.


    The question impaled her and stole the breath from her lungs. She almost wished he screamed it at her instead. Anything but the steady certainty.


    "You had to go snooping around, blabbing about shit you had no business knowing," he growled.


    She froze, unsure what to say or do. Her heart beat so loud until it burned in her chest. The air trapped in her lungs created a throbbing pressure, squeezing into a vice.


    He''s right. It''s my fault. No matter where I go, or what I do, I''ll only bring destruction. Maybe Angel is the one who has it right.


    "I''m so so sorry," she exclaimed."I tried - I didn''t want to - I didn''t mean -"


    Nyx''s sudden hand on her arm cut her off mid sentence. "No, Kismet stop it. You don''t have to apologize for a damn thing. Everything was fucked before you got here and he damn well knows it." She glared at Julian. "You had twenty-two years to tell him the truth. If you had showed him even the tiniest hint of emotion -"


    "I tried!" he yelled. "Believe me, I wanted things to be different between us, but Angel was -"


    "I don''t give a shit," Nyx snapped. "He needed you, you blew it, and now it''s too late."


    "If you would please listen -"


    "Just get out," she said. "I don''t have anything left to say to you."


    Julian sighed and got up. "Fine."


    The front door slammed behind him, rattling the window pane.


    "I''m sorry," Kismet said. She couldn''t stop shaking. The hive of voices rumbled at the base of her skull, threatening to surge upward, fighting for space with her own thoughts. "He''s right. It''s my fault. read your Dad''s mind, and I saw Ivy beg Julian to take Angel in. I told Daisy and -"


    "Stop, Kismet," Nyx pleaded. "Just stop it. None of this is your fault, ok?"


    "I made everything worse." She collapsed on herself, sobbing. The walls pressed in. Air would neither leave or pull into her lungs. Stuck. Trapped.


    Breathe. Just breathe like Daisy taught you.


    But I can''t remember how... it''s not working...


    Nyx sandwiched Kismet''s face with her hands and coxed her to look up until their eyes met.


    "You''re ok," she said. "Just focus on me."


    Kismet exhaled slowly and nodded, struggling to bring her attention to the sensation of gentle hands on her skin. She pushed through the surface level sadness swirling around Nyx to the sturdy dark cherry aura beneath.


    "Don''t let Julian get to you for one second," Nyx said. "He''s allergic to accountability. You didn''t do anything wrong."


    "But I -"


    "I don''t care," said Nyx. "None of this was on you. All we can do now is take this one step at a time. The Watchers, maybe even Ivy herself, will be here soon and I''m gonna need you to stay present. Can you do that?"


    Kismet sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. She nodded. "I think so. I''ll try."


    Nyx let her go and sat back. "I don''t think I can do this by myself Kizzy. You and Alistair are all I have left. I can''t even trust my own mom and dad anymore and -"


    "I won''t let you down." Kismet reached over and took her hand.


    "I know," said Nyx. "I really appreciate it."


    "It''s the least I can do."


    "Can I ask you a favour?" Nyx asked, dipping her head. She fiddled with a loose string dangling out of the couch upholstery.


    "Anything," said Kismet.


    "Don''t say that until you hear what I''m going to ask. It''s a lot," said Nyx. "Feel free to say no. Promise?"


    "I promise."


    "When the Watchers get here, will you use your powers to read their minds?" Nyx asked. "That way we can figure out what their intentions for Angel are, if Ivy wants to help him or not. Maybe Ivy knows what happened to him or why The Old Academy made Operation Pomegranate in the first place."


    Kismet''s eyes widened.


    Gathering secrets from Watchers and The Headmaster herself must be some kind of illegal.


    "I dunno -"


    How would she even know I was doing it? What would happen if I get caught?


    "I told you it''s a lot. It''s ok if you don''t want to. I just thought -"


    "No, it''s fine. If you think it''ll help, I''ll do it," said Kismet. "What will we do with the answers?"


    "Maybe we could help him figure things out about himself, why he was created in the first place. If Ivy''s willing to help him, maybe we could convince him to come back?"


    "Nyx, I don''t think he''s going to want to work with her no matter how this goes."


    She sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek. "We have to try. I can''t just sit here and do nothing while we wait for them to hunt him down. Even if she drags him to The Academy kicking and screaming that''s better than dead."


    "Is it?" Kismet asked, frowning. "It might be better for us, but he won''t be happy."


    "Well maybe she''ll let him be free?" Nyx asked. Hope glimmered in her emerald eyes. "That''s a possibility too."


    "Yeah, I suppose..." Kismet twisted her sleeves.


    You don''t believe that anymore than I do.


    "If you want me to read Ivy''s mind, I''ll do it. Even just to give you some peace." Kismet tightened her grip on Nyx''s hand. "You gotta be ready to hear the answers. You might not like them."


    "Thank you Kizzy," said Nyx. "I''ll accept whatever the answers are. I just need to know."


    Afterward, they sat outside on the porch. Butterflies flit about in the yard. Neither of them openly acknowledged what they were waiting for, but the tension clung thick in the air. The wicker chair seat sagged in the middle. It groaned whenever Kismet shifted. The fog of grey and blue colours wafted off Nyx like the smoke at the end of her cigarette.


    Kismet distracted herself with a paperback, but her mind wouldn''t stop wandering.


    The street was quiet and still. This moment was liminal and precious. She let herself be held suspended in the present. Waiting. The fragile air was bound to shatter.


    For now, cumulus clouds drifted over the sea in the distance. A deep blue strip in the horizon with no sign of last night''s storm.


    End Of Volume I