The Revival, Part 2

And then everybody died.



The end.





Sorry, people.....I just don't care for this story anymore; it has been discontinued. I don't know what happened. Maybe it needed more zombies or something.

-m

The Revival, Part 1

The first chills of autumn were curling around my toes, and it was lovely. I was barefoot on the sidewalk and still in my pajamas, and the best part was that the air smelled fresh like a forest.

Our group had just pulled into a parking spot in front of a small hotel in a valley from a fairy tale. Sara, Courtney, and Teia jumped out and inspected the grounds while Leandra and I talked to the front desk with the other two hanging out behind us.

"I hope you girls won't be bothered by the convention," the lady at the front desk said as she eyed my ancient t-shirt, which had a red hand print creeping over my shoulder.

"There's a place for a convention here?" I asked. I hadn't seen any signs of a large convention center on our way into town. Maybe it was on the other side of something?

"Oh, they just built it! It's a lovely building, too; looks just like a big church," she said. "Shouldn't bother you, though, I think it's mostly young people down here."

Leandra and I exchanged looks and shrugged, and then we gathered everybody and dropped our stuff off in our rooms. The beds went from pristine to upset in a matter of three seconds. Bags were zipping and unzipping all along the line of rooms, which were connected now by unlocked and open doors. Everyone freshened up while I put on some real clothes, and we went out hiking and exploring the town after lunch.

When we got back just before dinner time, our rooms were in an even greater mess than we had left them. Sara tapped me on the shoulder while I was staring, open-mouthed, at the contents of my duffel, which had all been pulled inside-out and dumped on the floor.

"My hoodie is covered in cat hair," she said when I looked at her. I would have laughed, but she had been wearing the hoodie earlier, and it hadn't been covered in fur that morning. Similar reports came from the other rooms. Ava and Natalie were so mad that they stormed out and went to confront the front desk lady. Courtney sat on the side of the bed and then stood up right away.

"Ow! Something poked me!" she yelled. The rest of us watched as she flung the covers off and revealed a rather impressive arrangement of knives under the covers. They were pointing blade up. We all were staring at the bed, trying to figure out how the knives had gotten there, when Natalie fell through the door, pulling Ava through after her. Both girls had thin streams of blood running from small cuts all over their arms, and they were soaking wet.

"Natalie!" I said. "What happened?"

"She tried to kill us!" Natalie gasped. She and Ava were on the floor, wheezing as they tried to catch their breath. Suddenly Natalie sat up, pointed at the door, and screamed, "Shut the door!" Teia reached over and slammed it shut with one arm.

"Are you alright?" Leandra asked Ava. She put her finger tentatively on one of the scratches on her sister's arm, to see how deep it was.

"We're ok," Ava said as she glanced at Natalie, who nodded. It was hard to look at them with so much blood trickling out of their tiny wounds. I sat on my feet in front of them, and everyone rallied behind me so we all could see their faces. Ava was still breathing hard, but Natalie had finally gotten control of herself.

"We went down and asked who'd had the audacity to mess with all of our stuff," Natalie said. "And the old lady just looked at us, stiffened, and screamed at us. So we started backing up, you know? We said we'd come back later." She wiped her nose and left a red smear on her cheekbone. "But when we were walking away she threw something at us."

"What'd she throw? Ninja stars?" Teia asked. I turned to glare at her, and she shrugged. "What?" I shook my head and turned back around.

"No, she didn't throw ninja stars," Ava said. She looked at Nat with wide eyes. Natalie looked terrified. "She threw her cats at us."

The other five of us chuckled until we realized that they were perfectly serious. Courtney took in the myriad of red cuts on their arms and said, "Wait. So...what you're saying is, you were attacked by cats?"

Ava and Natalie nodded. We were silent.

"But why are you wet?" Sara asked.

"We jumped in the pool," Natalie said. For the first time since she'd fallen through the door she looked slightly happy. "And then we got out of the pool."

"What happened to the cats?"

"They didn't get out, we're pretty sure," Natalie said. A moment later, something large thumped on the window. All seven of us practically jumped out of our skins, and Courtney leaned close to the glass to see what it was.

"Hey, guys?" she asked. "By any chance, were there more than two cats?"

"No," said Ava. "Why?"

"Because there are two very wet cats and about sixty very dry cats hissing at our front door," Courtney said. I pushed myself up off of the floor and joined her by the window. Sure enough, there was a legion of angry felines crowded around our door. I spun around and looked at everyone else, not sure if I should be laughing or screaming.

"Did anyone bring a gun?"

Glass and Mirrors, Part 5

"So? How's my lovely ex-girlfriend?" Avel asked. I stared at him. "Work still interesting?"

"Uh. Yes? What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you doing all this? The road, the theater. I thought you were reformed, Avel," I said. Avel chuckled and put his arm around my shoulders. Crossing my arms, I looked at him as he stared straight ahead. He'd pulled out of the teenager disguise and was back to normal. He took a breath and opened his mouth, like he was really about to answer me.

"What are you doing?" he asked suddenly. He tried to get his arm back from around my shoulders, but I was holding his hand in mine, tightly.

"Tell me, Avel. Tell me what you're doing," I said sweetly. Minty air flowed around us, and Avel's pupils dilated suddenly, and his irises gained a healthy dose of brown. Gradually, slowly, painfully, all of my colors came back. I almost breathed a sigh of relief but the moment was too crucial.

"What I'm doing?" he asked slowly, like his words kept getting stuck in marshmallow sauce. I leaned my head on his arm, looking up into his eyes and smiling with half of my mouth. He tried to pull his hand out of my fingers, but my grip was strong. Avel shifted in his seat. I could almost see all the wheels whirring in his head, trying to figure out what I was doing. We both knew he still had the upper hand. But the chocolate magic was confusing him. The minty smell was nearly overwhelming, enveloping us like a chenille blanket. I reached into my pocket with my free hand and curled my fingers around a small mirror. Avel used to hate mirrors. He couldn't walk in front of them without turning a peculiar shade of green.

Avel shifted again, and as he did he saw light glint off of the mirror's face. In a flash his other hand was over mine, and his cheek was against my temple, holding my head away from him.

"A mirror?" he whispered in my ear. Oh crap, I thought. I swallowed once, hard, and tried to smile.

"Just a mirror. I wanted to check my makeup," I said. Avel snorted.

"You don't check your makeup, Meli. Now, let's look at this," he said, and he threw the mirror in the air above us. It hit something like an invisible barrier and sounded like it shattered, but no pieces came showering down on us like I expected.

After the shattering sound there was a pop so loud it made me jump. I kept most of my focus, though, and still held his hand tightly in mine. I looked up to see what had become of the mirror, and I found myself looking into my own eyes. Avel held his free arm up, perfectly straight, with his fingers splayed. The mirror had grown to be at least 60 or 70 times its original size. It was hard to tell because it almost looked like it was still growing.

He laughed, lowering his arm so that the mirror was straight in front of us instead of above us. Then it was my turn to shift uncomfortably. Avel changed; he still had the same hair and nose, but he seemed older by several years. And then he changed my hair, making it shorter and lighter. I glanced down to look at my hair on my shoulders; it was still dark.

Avel changed again, becoming younger and blond and bespectacled. I became wrinkled and fat, and then thinner with a very low-cut shirt on. I gasped and instinctively went to cover up, which was very stupid. Avel took his opportunity -- in a split second he had flipped himself over the backs of our seats and was kneeling behind me. I have no idea how he did it without breaking his arm, since I was still holding his hand, but hey, the guy could make antiques and skyscrapers out of nothing.

"Relax," he said as he weaved his fingers into my hair. It was a command, and I couldn't help it. I leaned into him, even though my brain was screaming at me. Avel pointed at the mirror, dropping all the disguises and jerking his hand. The mirror disappeared and was replaced with tiny pieces of colored glass which fell to the ground like silver-toned rain. I tried to stand up but Avel snaked his arm across my collarbone.

"Let me go," I said. I felt him shake his head. He was leaning pretty far over my chair.

"Relax," he said again. "Look at the glass. Beautiful." I decided to try one more thing. I had a little bit of magic left from the chocolate bar; at this distance I couldn't go back for more without him noticing. So I swirled it around a little, got a good breath in, and leaned my head back. My nose brushed the skin just above his ear, and I felt Avel pull back a little. I breathed in through my nose, and exhaled softly through my mouth. He breathed in sharply, and I made sure my giggle was short and sweet.

"Losing control, my dear?" My magic glittered strangely in the light reflected from the shards of glass. I placed my lips on his jawline, still using the magic. Avel sank back, landing on both of his knees. Spinning up from my seat, I pulled the handcuffs out of my back pocket and slapped half of them on the wrist closest to me; the other half went on my own arm. He wouldn't look up at me, and I smiled triumphantly. I had him.

A door slammed somewhere in the room, making me jump. "Hey!" yelled Kadey from the employee's only entrance behind me. I turned and waved.

"Here! I got him!" Kadey gave me a strange look, one that made my smile falter as I turned back to look at Avel.

He was gone.

Glass and Mirrors, Part 4

Parts 1-3 are on your left. -m

The most uncomfortable part of having someone else in your head is not, in fact, the simple fact that they are there. It's the nagging fear that at any moment they'll accidentally find that key under the mat in front of the door to the rest of your mind.

Avel had conjured up a leather chair to sit in while he relaxed on the front porch of my mind. I kept trying to push him out, but he had some sort of magic thingie around me, and there was nothing I could do. All of my efforts pushed me further away from him, leaving torn up tracks of sod all over the lawn. He smiled benignly.

"Having some trouble?" he asked.

"Get out of my head!" I yelled. My actual voice, the one Kadey could hear as she sat in the theater, sounded like a muffled mumble. In my head, I was screaming.

"But I like it here," he said, pulling a glass of lemonade out of thin air and taking a sip. Ice cubes clinked against the glass. I threw my hands up into my hair, feeling like I wanted to pull it out. Keeping a wary eye on Avel, I half pulled myself out of my mind so I could look at the theater again. Everything was still in shades of gray, and Kadey had a firm grip made up of freezing, shaking fingers on my lower arm.

"Meli? Can you hear me?" I looked up at her from my slouched position and tried to nod. She at least noticed that I was trying to acknowledge her, and she pointed at the theater screen. At least Avel was still letting me see things, even if the color was sapped. The images on the screen were still making people scream. For a few seconds it was a small child's memory of tripping on the sidewalk, then it switched to a girl stealing jewelry from a department store. Avel was enjoying it way more than he should have, I could feel his self satisfaction practically oozing all around the unsheltered parts of my mind. I decided I needed to do something awkward.

But before I could go back and confront Avel, Kadey's fingers tightened on my arm. I jumped a little, able to move because Avel couldn't guess that I would have been surprised by something Kadey did. Kadey leaned over and put her head close so I could hear her whisper.

"I think I found him," she said. I tried to move my head, but nothing happened. She rolled her eyes, thought for a minute, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out her touch screen phone. The screen was dark and for a second I was really confused, until she held it so that the people next to me were reflected on the surface. "Sorry, I don't carry a mirror," Kadey said. She turned the fake mirror slowly, so that I could look at everyone in its reflection. It was hard to see, especially in the strange light of the theater, but I could at least make out, about three people away, the shape of a teenaged boy with dark hair sitting with his arms up.

I couldn't see clearly enough, and I looked back at Kadey, hoping for an explanation. She nodded, understood my confusion, took one last look at the boy, and copied his pose. Sitting up very straight, Kadey lifted her arms so that her forearms were parallel to the movie screen. Tilting her head back, she half-closed her eyes and bent her wrists back a little so that her fingers were near her eyebrows.

Then, once her arms were in place and she'd peeked once or twice to make sure that she was accurately copying Avel's position, she began twitching her fingers randomly. I swallowed and uneasily began to return to my mind, to confront Avel in his leather chair. My spine tingled. I'd only seen Avel sit like that once before, and it had ended with the other guy in pieces. I mean, literally. Many pieces. And he'd done it to himself, with his own magic.

"Avel, stop," I said. This time there was urgency in my voice. He put down his drink, stood up, and came to me.

"Stop chasing me," he said. I shook my head. "Tell Kadey to leave." I hesitated. He was so close, and even though it was all in my head, I could smell him. He still wore the same cologne.

"You'll stop using their minds as entertainment?" He smirked and lifted a shoulder. "Let me talk to her, at least?"

I opened my eyes in the theater. Kadey was still holding my arm.

"Mmphar," I said on the first try. I licked my lips, cleared my throat, and tried again. "He wants you to leave."

"I'm not leaving," Kadey said. A man screamed from one of the front rows, and we both jumped. I glanced at Avel, the teenaged version of him, at least. He still had his arms up, fingers playing some unseen symphony, and he was still in black and white. Without blinking, I went into the back of my mind, unlocked the trap door, and dropped through, covering my tracks with magic made to look gray. What I needed was a bit of my own magic to take out of my mind with me, but Avel was blocking it all. So, physically, I was screwed. No fireballs or anything cool.

But I could play the word card. Easy.

Quickly I felt into the pantry and grabbed the first thing I could reach -- a chocolate bar. I unwrapped it as I jumped back out of the room and locked the door, shoving it in my mouth just before I got back to the theater. As far as I knew, Avel had no idea what I'd done.

Before I said anything to Kadey, I turned as much as I could towards Avel. He had my English tied up tight in his hands, but he didn't own all the words in my mouth. I could feel the chocolate magic tingling between my teeth, like really strong mouthwash. It even tasted a little minty. I took a very deep breath.

"Ambreel! Arrete!" I yelled. Ambreel Avel Tucker jumped in his theater seat, looked at me, and grinned. The instant he opened his eyes I shut down the walls in my mind, forcing him out. The movie screen went black, and within seconds people began to leave as though nothing unusual had happened.

Soon the theater was completely empty; even Kadey had gone. It was just me and Avel, and he came to sit next to me, stretching his long legs out on the top of the seats in front of us.

Glass and Mirrors, Part 3

Parts 1 & 2 are over there. -m

If I hadn't've been sprinting after the ever-changing form of my ex-boyfriend, I probably would have taken at least a couple of moments to revel in the crazy luck we'd had in finding him in one of the first antique shops we'd tried. Just the ridiculous timing of it all made me grin. But then Avel would try to change his hair color, and my mind would be whipped back to reality. If I didn't pay better attention, my luck wasn't going to stick around very long.

Kadey's feet were pounding behind me, and I could also hear her having a hard time with other people on the sidewalk. I wanted very badly to glance back and check on her, but I had to keep both eyes on Avel. He was heading deeper into downtown.

How had he gotten so fast? Geez. It was like his legs were slurping up the pavement and spewing it out in dust. And I was eating it. My breathing was so labored I was certain that any moment I was just going to collapse, and then we would never find him again, because there was no way that Kadey would keep up with him.

Avel flung himself around a corner, the first one in several blocks, and I pushed harder, trying to keep up. I was only a few steps behind him, but once I came around the curb he was gone. I screamed in frustration. I needed to focus and look for him, but I was breathing so hard that all I was good for was leaning over and putting my hands on my knees. I saw Kadey's shoes on the pavement.

"He's gone!" she said. She was breathing hard, too.

"I know," I said. I took one huge breath and straightened. "You put your arms down!"

"I'm sorry," she said as she warded off a slap on the arm. "They were getting tired, and I honestly didn't think he was there any more!"

"Fine. Ok. Where would he go?"

"Why are you asking me? You're the one who knows him," Kadey said. I could almost hear her adding, You're the one he made out with and almost married....

"Ugh. I know! Ok, let me think," I said. I closed my eyes and leaned against the building. The art museum, movie theaters, restaurants, angsty poet hovels... all these ran through my head. But to no avail. That dang street corner was going to pay for making us lose him. I punched the wall. Ow.

"Hey, that's weird," Kadey said.

"Huh?"

"I could have sworn 46th went all the way through here," she said. Kadey took a couple of steps forward. I'd completely forgotten where we were during our run, but while I'd been thinking Kadey had looked up at the street signs. People rushing to their cars and to the metro from work ran into us from every angle. But we didn't move.

"Where are we?" I asked. I spun and looked at the sign. 46th and Jelly. I looked around, getting my bearings. If this was Jelly, and the sun was there... 46th should go straight through, crossing Linoleum. But a block away was a skyscraper, and 46th turned into a right-or-left choice. A choice that had never been there before. I started running, and Kadey followed me.

"Brace yourself!" I yelled over my shoulder. The transition point was coming up, and there was nothing weirder than passing through one of Avel's illusions without warning. It was like getting hit with a wall of marshmallows. Didn't leave any bruises, but it didn't exactly leave you feeling very healthy. We hit the edge of the illusion at a sprinting speed and I felt my hair get caught in the magical wall. Everything was kooky and soft for a second, and then we were through, and 46th didn't run into a skyscraper anymore.

"Whoa," said Kadey. "That was awesome!" I kept running, but I still grinned at her. I don't know why, but part of me felt a little proud of Avel for being able to pull off something like that. It didn't even occur to me that maybe I should have wondered why I hadn't seen the illusion in the first place. Something that huge should have been obvious.

"There!" I yelled and veered to the left. A gray haze was just disappearing into the alley behind the movie theater. We darted through the narrow opening and were suddenly the only people within view. Something told me that he was hiding in the theater. Avel couldn't have gone far while maintaining that illusion. I yanked open the back door and Kadey and I practically fell into the theater. After the bright sun of the streets it took a while for my eyes to adjust.

Kadey grabbed my arm and I started walking slowly, picking my way around shadowy obstacles. A few seconds later I found another door and opened it. We were in the back of a giant IMAX theater that was filling with people. It was then that I noticed that I wasn't seeing things very well. Everything was black and white and gray. I looked at Kadey. Her normally dark blue eyes were still dark, but they were gray. My hands were shaded, too; the flesh tones were gone. I choked on air in my rush to speak, but by the time I cleared my throat a theater attendant was at the top of the stairs leading down to the door we had just come out of.

"Excuse me, but you can't go down there. Employees only," he said. Kadey and I apologized and mounted the steps, pretending to look for our seats. The attendant wouldn't let us do anything but sit down. Every time we tried to head away to the exit, he corralled us and led us back to the seats. We sat, resigned, and stuck our heads together to figure out a battle plan. I kept staring at my hands in their gray creepiness and at the ends of my hair, which was just plain black. All the richness of color was gone, and I knew it wasn't because I had suffered any trauma. Avel was here and was doing it to me.

"What's wrong?" Kadey whispered. The lights in the room had just dimmed and people were putting on 3D glasses.

"I can't see," I said.

"What!?"

"No, I mean, I can't see colors. Everything's gray and black," I said. Kadey spun around in her chair, trying to look all directions at once.

"My vision's fine," she said. I sighed. If everything was already gray and black, I wasn't going to be able to find Avel. Not a chance. And he knew that. He remembered.

The screen flickered once, and the audience "Ooohed". Every seat was full and I could see two people in the aisle, walking up and down the stairs as they looked for open seats. Immediately I felt guilty, but there was nothing I could do. I needed this seat so I could keep looking for Avel. I tried scanning the crowd for him the way I'd looked for his work in the antique store, but everything looked hazy and gray in the darkness.

I slouched in my chair, frustrated. Kadey was still looking, wide-eyed, at all the people in the auditorium. With no chance of finding him, I closed my eyes. And saw Avel.

"Don't react," he said. I suddenly found I couldn't open my eyes, but I could still hear everything. Avel's voice was coming from just a few feet away. I struggled to sit up, but the weight of magic was on top of me. I was frozen and felt sick whenever I tried to move.

"I said, 'Don't', Meli. Don't move," he said. My mouth wouldn't open to speak. "Stop chasing me." I gave in to the illusion and let down the smallest of my mind barriers, so that I could at least yell at him.

Shoving my own magic back in his face, I said, "Give me back my sight!" Avel laughed, overjoyed.

"Finally! Doesn't it feel good to let it out?" In my mind Avel sat in a leather-backed chair, grinning like crazy as he ran his hand through his hair. "Let's play with them, shall we?" My stomach sank. Play?

The crowd in the theater gasped, and one woman screamed. Avel let me open my eyes to see the screen. The scene was from the perspective of a person walking on a dark road. Footsteps sounded from behind, and the person turned to look. Three thugs in gang gear were following the person; they smiled maliciously. The same woman screamed again.

"Meli?" Kadey said. There was a worried hesitance in her voice that I didn't like.

Suddenly the scene changed and Kadey gasped.

"That's my house," she whispered to me. This time I understood. Avel was ruffling through the audience's minds like they were picture books. Every five seconds, the picture changed, and a different person screamed or at least gasped in surprise. He was still in my mind, and I pushed my way up to his chair.

"Stop it!" I said as I reached out to slap him. But even in my own mind I was slow, and he blocked it before my fingernails could do any damage.

Glass and Mirrors, Part 2

Link to Part 1 at left.

Kadey Wilson showed up at my house wearing a Superman t-shirt, baggy jeans, and Birkenstocks. She didn't even bother ringing the bell or knocking; one minute I was alone on my couch, the next she was sitting across from me, on the ottoman, grinning like crazy.

"Shut up," I said. "It's not funny." Her smile widened.

"Oh, I think it's funny. It's very funny," Kadey said. She stood up to pull a tiny notebook out of her pocket, and then she plopped back down, handing me the notebook.

It was held closed with a rubber band, and as I pulled it off it snapped against my finger. Kadey sniggered. The notebook fell open and proved itself to be more of a folder than a notebook. It was completely packed with polaroids folded over to fit in the narrow space, and sketches of weird random things, and slips of napkins written on in marker.

"What is this...?" I asked, but then I knew, because I saw Kadey's short, wide writing flowing over the pages of the notebook, and Avel's cramped hand had obviously scrawled on the random scraps thrust in between the pages. And the pictures were of him. I looked at Kadey, bracing myself. "You've been running surveillance? Already?"

"Oulara gave me my envelope two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?"

"Yeah." She shrugged and went to the kitchen. I could hear cabinets open and shut, along with the fridge, and she reappeared with a glass of iced tea, baby carrots, and a handful of dark chocolate chips. "You need more junk food," she said. I laughed.

"You don't," I said. "So...where is he?"

"Downtown, I'm pretty sure. There's been an influx of antique furniture and collectibles," she said. Crack! went a carrot. "But then again, that could be anyone. You're the one who'd know if it was his stuff or not," she added as she looked at me from under her brows. It looked like she was waiting to see if a volcano she was leaning on was active or not.

"Yeah," I said. Avel, like the paper had said, was an illusionist. But he wasn't the hat-n-bunny type; his style dealt in, well, real magic. I guess it sounds kind of weird to say that. When Kadey first heard about him she laughed when I'd described his talents, but after she'd met him the first time she'd given me this wide-eyed "Oh I get it" look. Avel didn't just make things appear that weren't there, he changed things that already were; he pulled ideas and images out of your head and used them for or against you, depending on his mood.

I realized that I'd been zoned out for a couple of minutes, and I looked back up at Kadey. She was finished with the carrots and was popping the chocolate into her mouth, piece by piece. I sighed and looked at my bedroom, where all of my gear was organized in a single row on the bed. If Avel was downtown, he wouldn't be hiding in plain sight. And if he was already forging antiques, his business was booming. We weren't catching him at the beginning of things.

I tossed the notebook in Kadey's lap and went into my room. Kadey stood in my doorway as I geared up. My knives got strapped to my ankles and one wrist, and the other tools of my trade went into my pockets. I had changed earlier into stretchy jeans and a loose black top, and light leather boots. You never knew when you'd have to jump a fence in pursuit of someone trying to be faster than you. I turned around and reached for a yellow summer scarf.

"You look like Lara Croft on her lunch break," Kadey said. I rolled my eyes.

"You're wearing that?" I asked. She looked down at her shirt, pulling at the hem as though she didn't remember what she was wearing.

"Superman is antique-y," she said. I snorted in a very unlady-like fashion and pushed past her.

"Go time," I said, and tossed her a thin black jacket to put over her shirt. "You better've brought along a change of shoes."

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The antique store smelled like home to me. Kadey wrinkled her nose when the door closed behind us, jingling the brass bell suspended from the ceiling. I breathed in and smiled. It smelled like dirt and sunshine and a little bit of dust, and it was all encased in the reverent hush of the library of Alexandria.

I ran my hand along the top of a dresser that was probably two hundred years old, judging by the workmanship on the legs, and smiled as I imagined its life before ending up in the shop. Kadey cleared her throat.

"Should I leave you two alone?" I jumped a little and smiled at her.

"Sorry, no. I'm just remembering," I said. She shrugged. I took a few more steps, looking for signs of Avel's handiwork. Since we'd been so...close, I could almost see the things he'd changed. I stood with my feet shoulder's width apart and half closed my eyes; it wasn't squinting, so my face was completely relaxed. Kadey knew that I wasn't just enjoying the antique store, and she stayed silent, quietly reading the titles of frayed hardbacks on a sticky plastic shelf.

There was something hazy in the back of the room, and I ended up in front of a large glass case about the size of a couple of refrigerators. Once I was in front of the item I pulled my hands out of my pockets and held them at my sides. The air around me was full of electricity and the hair on the back of my neck rose. I grinned triumphantly at the source of the energy, an antique jewelry box inlaid with mother of pearl. Gemstones crusted the filigreed corners, and the whole thing was set up on a little stand so that it was easy to see the top of the lid. Kadey came up behind me and let out a low whistle.

"Shiny," she said. "Is that it?"

"I think so," I said, as I looked around once more. I couldn't see anything else that Avel may have touched. I inspected the box from tiptoe and pursed my lips. "I need to touch it." Kadey nodded and went to get the manager. He opened the glass door with shaking gloved hands and pulled the box reverently out of the case. It clinked against the glass counter he set it on and the old man stood, waiting, as I looked at the box.

I knew that Kadey just had to trust me when I said Avel had made the jewelry box. I'd had the history and the training to recognize the changes. From behind my eyelashes there was a haze around the box. It wasn't colored or anything...it was more like someone had erased the edges of the antique before putting it back into real space.

Avel's signature, a double "A" encircled with a black obsidian ring, was set into the center of the lid. I nodded at Kadey, who suddenly reached out, touched the old manager's arm, and asked him a question about a painting hanging behind us. My hand was already halfway to the box; I brushed my fingertip over Avel's mark.

It flared a hazy gray before the box itself flickered, like it wasn't really there. Under the illusion I saw a little girl's jewelry box covered with pink crowns. And then the gorgeous antique version was back, and I dropped my hand. Well, at least I knew that Avel was still a very talented forger. The poor manager, who was also the owner and an antique dealer of several decades, couldn't have known what he was buying.

The brass bell up front jangled and the manager jumped to put away the box. Before I could say anything it was behind glass and Kadey and I were alone in the back of the room. I heard a man's voice call for the manager, and I looked at Kadey. Her eyes were wide, staring at something past me. I turned. It was a mirror, leaned up on top of a dresser, and it reflected the front of the store. Someone tall with dark hair was speaking to the manager in excited tones. I recognized those tones. My heart was pounding in my ears, in my fingers, everywhere. I almost couldn't concentrate.

I walked as calmly as I could around the corner, leaving Kadey a few paces behind me. I tossed my hair and took a breath, and smiled.

"Hello, Avel," I said. Ambreel Avel Tucker's head shot up in a dictionary-perfect picture of shock. His eyes found me quickly and I could almost hear him mentally cursing himself for showing up for a sale without a disguise. He was leaning on the front counter, in his everyday outfit of jeans and a snazzy navy blue shirt. He was wearing loafers.

"Meli," he said, nodding. "How are you?"

"I'm great," I said, still walking towards him. He watched me carefully, probably trying to figure out if I was there for him, or to browse. "How are you?" Avel looked me up and down, especially taking in the shoes I was wearing. He stopped leaning on the counter.

"Fine," he said. I smiled again, bigger this time.

And then he was gone. Poof.

"Sh*$!" yelled Kadey. "Where'd he go?"

"He's still here," I said calmly. "Stop shouting." I threw my arms out in front of me. He was an illusionist, not a magician. He would still have to use the door. I just had to grab him before he got there. "Door!" Kadey jumped in front of it and held her arms akimbo. The poor manager was staring at us with eyes so huge I just knew he was going to have a heart attack if we didn't get out of there soon.

Five minutes passed, and then Kadey dropped her arms while I was looking the other way. I would have yelled at her, but I didn't see it. Avel took his opportunity immediately, pulling himself out of his illusion and practically diving into the door. Jinga-jingle! went the brass bell. Kadey looked sheepish for about a second, and then I sprinted past her into the warm evening air.

Glass and Mirrors, Part 1

A couple of summers ago, a year after I slammed the door on Avel and a year before Jeremiah turned brute with the full moon, I was working on a project. My work back then was very vague. Well, it still is, but back then it was even more smoke and even less paperwork.

Kadey was working with me, kind of as an intern. We'd been given an assignment in a black envelope, something I had only heard rumors about before that moment. Mr. Oulara hadn't even mailed it to me in the usual fashion. He'd found me at a cafe, staring out the window and absentmindedly turning my empty tea mug in circles.

"Meli," he said after clearing his throat. I looked up slowly. I wasn't too thrilled to hear his voice, or to see him standing next to my table. Although, I probably should have been happy about it. Mr. Oulara didn't show up with black envelopes for just anything. He laid the project on the table and walked away. I could reject it by not touching the envelope, but I was too curious. For a minute I just looked at it, letting my mind wander through the stories I'd heard about black envelopes and the failures associated with them. Whatever this was, it meant they trusted me. Great.

When Oulara was more than out the door and his dark sedan was turning at the signal at the other end of the parking lot, I sighed resignedly and pulled the envelope closer with my fingertip. The instant I touched it a shock of electricity shot through my finger. I gasped and pulled it back, and then I looked at my hand. My finger had a tiny mark on it; at a glance it just looked like a small burn, but the more I stared at it, the more it looked like our company's seal. It had been burned into my skin.

I read the single piece of paper quickly, knowing that, as usual, there was only a short amount of time before the words disappeared. Here is what it said:



I had pulled the paper out of the envelope so it had been face down, so my first reaction was, "Huh. Black envelope, brown paper. Ok." And then I had flipped it over and my stomach had started beating and my heart was tied in knots. In other words, I had no idea what to do with myself. Avel? Avel was my project?

I almost didn't need to read the entire page. After I saw the words "Ambreel Avel Tucker" my brain had come up with a lovely flashback of Avel leaning in my kitchen doorway. No one needed to tell me his distinctive features. In my mind Avel was grinning at me, twirling a knife around his fingers, showing off. I was making dinner. Avel put the blade down and touched my arm with the back of his hand. I blinked. This was going to be difficult.

The Apartment, Part 3

Links to Parts 1 & 2 are to the left. -m


Red Cravat Guy and White Cravat Guy were in the bedroom, tossing things against the walls and rapping their knuckles against the drywall. I figured they were listening for a hollow spot full of "stuff".

The leather chair I was sitting in was facing the front door, though, so any time I wanted to see what they were doing I had to peek my face around the side of the chair and look behind me. My breathing was quick and shallow and every time I moved the chair squeaked like a horror movie front door. I sat this way for a minute or two, waiting for them to move into the bedroom closet, which was completely out of view of the door.

With my face pressed into the side of the leather I stretched out my leg so I could pull my phone out of my pocket. I fumbled with it once I'd gotten it out and it thumped lightly on the seat. Who knows how or if he heard it, but White Cravat Guy flew out of the bedroom and clonked me in the forehead with his gun.

"Ow!" I could feel a new indentation and a fresh bruise forming just above my eye.

"What're you doin' in here?" he asked. I gulped.

"Nothing! Sitting!"

"Good!" He tapped my forehead again, in the same spot, and turned to go. I faced the front door again, and he used that moment to return to my chair. He was crouched on the carpet this time, as close to the chair as he could get. With one hand he casually rested the gun on the armrest, pointed oh-so-nonchalantly in the direction of my very vital organs. The other hand he placed behind my head, tangled in my hair.

"Don't get no ideas," he whispered in my ear. I wrinkled my nose; he smelled like cigar smoke and permanently unbrushed teeth. Before that moment I had almost liked the smell of cigars. Nevermore. "Wouldn't want to hurt you." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to think of something to say. I wanted to say, "Yeah? Well get outa my house! You smell funny and your brain is too small!" But, you know, it's quite likely that things like that have little to no effect on mobsters. At least, the lame insult at the end wouldn't do much except get me another bruise. And it probably would be more painful, too.

"I'm just sitting," I said, feeling pathetic for not standing up to him.

For an answer he chuckled in my ear, kissed my cheek, and yanked on my hair when he stood up. I waited a full 93 seconds before turning around and letting myself check on where they were. Closet. Good. Who knows why they were just leaving me in the living room? Whatever. It was better than actually watching them break my stuff; it was bad enough listening to it happen.

I re-settled myself in the chair and pushed my hair out of my eyes. I imagined I looked just fantastic, with damp hair and no makeup. My face felt dry and I licked my lips as I reached for my phone. I barely had it in my hand when it began to vibrate.

That's a good reason to have your phone on vibrate, by the way. If Italian mafia minions break into your apartment looking for loot, they won't hear your phone if it goes off, so they won't be able to take it away from you. Brilliant. Of course, the vibrating phone will probably scare the living crap out of you, like it did me, and I didn't even know I had any living crap in me. I pushed the button to unlock the screen and saw that I had a text message. Breathing a sigh of relief and glancing behind to make sure the Cravat Brothers were having fun out of view, I opened the message.

"Don't move."

Of course I moved, but only my head. The boys were still out of sight. It scared me to think that they had my number, but hey, they'd gotten into my apartment so anything was possible. I decided not to answer, so that they'd think I didn't have my phone on me. Dropping it back onto the seat, I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to create a happy place involving kettle corn and rain and fireplaces.

My phone vibrated again, scaring me out of my happy place and tossing me onto the concrete floor of the present.

"Stop moving. They're there, right? In the closet."

I ducked in my chair. If the fancy Cravat Brothers were trying to freak me out, it was definitely working. But a tiny part of me spoke up just before I put the phone down again, and it said, "Hey, wait. This person could be a good guy." Stupid voice. I rolled my eyes, completely unable to agree with what my fingers were doing yet equally unable to stop it.

I typed, "Yes. Who is this?" and held my breath -- literally -- and ducked down, waiting to be shot in the back of the head. I could just see the back of my skull ricocheting off of the opposite wall, bright Tarantino blood spewing onto the new carpet...

It took forever for the guy to respond, giving me the nerve-numbing confidence that I really was about to die. The Italian Whoever They Weres had my phone number and were tricking me out of my last true hope for life. And then the text message came and I couldn't read it fast enough.

"It's the guy who died. :) "

There is a ghost in my phone, I thought. But I didn't have time to send my follow-up message of "Cassidy?" because suddenly there was another message, and it had the little camera symbol over the envelope. I opened it and my jaw dropped. It was a live video feed of me, sitting in the leather chair, watching myself watch myself on my phone. Creepy, but I kept my eye on it for a few seconds, trying to get a handle of where the camera is. According to the angle, I assumed that it was high above me, maybe near the ceiling.

When I turned I could see it, a little khaki cube attached to the side of a cabinet. I had the queasy feeling that it was winking at me, and my phone vibrated again.

"Stay silent and still."

Suddenly there was a crash from the bedroom, some sailor-worthy cursing, and the sound of angry Italian leather shoes in the hallway. I dropped the phone into the crevice between the seat cushion and the armrest just before the mobsters presented themselves before me. They looked... dissatisfied.

"We know it's here," Red Cravat Guy said. He took a moment to fix a loose cuff link, then looked at me with one eyebrow raised. "You hid it?" In a random act of insanity I decided to take the dead guy's advice and I stayed silent, staring at their shoes. They were very shiny and black.

"I'll make 'er--" began White Cravat Guy. His brother interrupted him.

"Nah," he said. "We'll come back." Before I knew it I was glancing up into his face, because there was something in his tone that made me want to pee my pants like a small child and it made me curious. I regretted it instantly, because the happy anticipation I saw in his sparkling eyes reminded me of the raptors in Jurassic Park. Hunted, meet the hunter. Oh, crapola.

And then, suddenly, they were gone. One moment I was holding back pleas for peace and life, the next I was feeling a tiny breeze as the front door opened quickly and shut almost silently.

The Apartment, Part 2

I'd suggest you check out the link to Part 1, over to the left, if you haven't already. -m

When I heard the bathroom door click, adrenaline rushed into my veins so fast I thought I was going to pass out. My heart was beating like a drum line. Of course my first instinct wasn't to call 911 or to scream for help or something; it was to stare, silent and open-mouthed, at the closed door.

Someone was in there. And they were making noises.

I mean, like, they were dropping things and moving things around. Like they were looking for something as quietly as possible. I took a step toward the door. I took another. I was within reach of the knob when I heard a crash and a muffled curse or three. My hand had been about to turn the handle and I jerked it away, expecting at any moment that it would open itself and a zombified Mr. Cassidy would lurch out into the hall, eat my gooey innards, and take a nap in his leather chair.

And then I heard a sound that really confused me: the shower. Then, a symphony of metallic ringing as the shower curtain was pulled aside. That same sound, again. I realized that I was standing like a puppy with my head to one side. Zombified Mr. Cassidy was taking a shower? What? I felt like busting open the door and confronting him, but a naked, sopping wet zombie was not exactly on the top of my list of Must-Sees. Maybe if he was... nevermind.

The shower stopped and I couldn't help it, I gasped and jumped back from the door, slamming into the corner of the wall. THUMP. The sounds of movement stopped in the bathroom and I could practically see the guy, frozen, staring back at me through the opaque door. I stepped backwards, back around the corner, and then suddenly the door was open and I was staring into the face of a guy with black eyes and thick black eyebrows.

He was naked. Well, he had the towel wrapped around his waist, but that didn't really connect in my brain for a few seconds. All I could really process at that moment was, "He's in my bathroom. He's naked. He's staring at me. Am I naked?" I looked down, quickly, just to make sure that I was still wearing my shorts and t-shirt. Oh, good. They were still there.

"Um," I said. He glared at me and slammed the door shut. "Oh, OK. Bye." I didn't have a chance to decide to do anything besides stand there like a stupid lawn ornament because in ten seconds the door slammed open again and the guy was glaring at me, this time in a black suit and a silk cravat. A white silk cravat.

"You live here," he said. He had a classic Italian accent that I'm not even going to try to replicate here. Believe me it was lovely, in that Oh God I'm Gonna Get Shot sort of way.

"Yes?" I asked, even though I had meant for it to be a statement.

"Where's the stuff?" And then I was staring at his tattoo, which I was shocked to have missed in the past seconds of pseudo-nakedness, and trying to figure out how the heck I had missed it before. The claw of a jungle cat was permanently attached to the space just below his Adam's apple, and I was sure the body of the cat was either on his shoulder or around the back of his neck.

I shook my head as I remembered that he was questioning me. Stuff?

"The stuff," he said again. He shook his head at my stupidity and heaves a sigh. Reaching slowly into his suit pocket, the man pulled out a long, black... whistle? I felt my body relax just before he lifted the whistle to his lips and blew a low, sharp blast.

He put it back, nodded and smiled at me, and leaned back into the closed bathroom door with his huge forearms crossed over his bulging pec muscles. I began to open my mouth to say something, but he lifted his finger, waved it side to side, and then pressed it up against his lips. Two seconds later someone knocked on the door, which opened to reveal a guy who could easily have been this guy's twin, except for the red silk cravat.

"Sit down," the first guy said. It occurred to me at this moment that neither of these men were Mr. Cassidy. They weren't exactly acting like the undead, and as far as I knew, Cassidy wasn't an Italian surname. I know now that I wasn't wrong.

Red Cravat Guy pushed towards me, sticking his arm out across my shoulders and throwing me backwards into the leather chair on his way into the back of the apartment.

"Hey!" I said. Finally, I seemed to be getting my thoughts and reactions in order.

"Shut up," White Cravat Guy said, waving a gun topped with a silencer in my face. Remember all that progress I had made with my thoughts and reactions? Yeah, totally gone. Totally and completely.

What followed was a very thorough, though messy, search of everything in the apartment. White Cravat Guy had already been through the bathroom, obviously, so the two of them moved on to the living room and the kitchen. In a matter of minutes everything -- and I do mean everything -- was out of every cabinet, closet, box, and whatever else could contain stuff. But they weren't finding the "stuff" that they were hoping for. I know this because every few seconds they would suddenly appear at my shoulder, stick the gun into the tender space under my jaw, and demand to know where the "stuff" was.

Each time I could do nothing but stammer that I had no idea what they were talking about, but you know Italian mobsters, they never believe you when you say things like that. So they'd throw some more stuff across the room, stomp on some fragile things, and otherwise make a terrible mess.

They were in my bedroom when I suddenly remembered that my phone was in my pocket.

The Apartment, Part 1

This is why you don't get an apartment on the fourth floor: someday, sometime, you will have to walk up all of those steps carrying 50-pound boxes of books and clothing.

Luckily, I wasn't the only one moving boxes. My entire family had decided to show up to help. Plus Leandra and Jeremiah and Phoebe. And each and every one of us had a lovely, salty wet swath of nasty sweatness down the middle of our backs. Whenever possible we would walk around with our arms up in the air, trying to dry out our underarms. It almost worked. Almost.

When the last piece of furniture was in place and the living room and bedroom were full of boxes and loaded laundry baskets and just plain random stuff, everyone else suddenly found something else to do. Leandra was having dinner with Jeremiah, Phoebe had a Skype date with William, and my sisters had "cool things" to do, whatever that means. Suddenly everyone was gone, and I was left alone in the apartment, reveling in the air conditioning and trying to slow my breathing.

It was so quiet. I lifted my damp hair off of my neck and turned slowly, taking in the damage. Not bad. This was do-able. I decided to take a shower before tackling any other projects.

With wet hair hanging in my eyes and making drip marks on my old t-shirt, I first made sure that the fridge was in order. Then I pulled all of my kitchen-y stuff onto the tile and set to work loading up the cabinets. But the first door I opened, the one furthest to the left, already had things in it. I put down the shoebox of spices I'd been about to organize inside and stared at the contents of the cabinet with my hands on my hips. Spices, all in cute tin boxes labeled by hand with what had probably been a Sharpie. I smiled, thinking that my sister must have done that. Reorganizing that stuff wasn't sounding so good, so I moved on to the next cabinet.

Glasses. They were plain, simple, and completely random. Pom juice glasses, plastic Disney cups, jelly jars... I was significantly confused at this point. If my sister had filled my cabinets, everything would have matched perfectly and been ridiculously cute and awesome. This was the work of someone else. On a whim, I opened every other cabinet in the row, and all I could do was laugh when I saw that every single space was already occupied with pasta, canned foods, and cereal etc. Sweet. Thank you, previous owner, for leaving me all of your crap.

It was too much to handle; I left everything on the kitchen tiles and went into my bedroom. There were boxes everywhere, and I hoisted them all up onto my bed. It was only after I did all that lifting that I caught site of the dressers in my peripherals and froze. Two dressers. I pushed my hair out of my face and faced the dressers. One was mine, I knew that. The other one was black, probably spray painted, with square black drawer pulls. I spun and looked around the room. The dresser had a little brother -- a bedside bureau -- and there was also a desk in the corner. I was slack jawed, of course. Why hadn't anyone bothered to mention everything that was still there? They just dropped it in and walked away? Come on!

I walked up to the dresser and tapped it with my fingernails. It smelled like cologne. Wait. I mentally checked myself after that thought. Cologne? The top drawer was open in a second and I was staring at the extremely organized contents of a man's junk drawer. I understand that "junk" connotes, well, junk. Mess. Craziness. But this was...wow. I thought I was OCD. This guy had built little ridges into the bottom of the drawer so that things would stay in their compartments.

The cologne was in the middle, laying down. I picked it up and sniffed it. Who knows what it was made of, but that stuff was yummy. I looked at the bottle curiously, and jumped. Prada's snazzy suave seal was on the front of the glass, topped with the coat of arms, all emblazoned in silver. The bottle went back into its little area, and I opened the next drawer, and then next.

What followed could only be described as a flurry. I went through the dresser, the desk, the closet, the bathroom. And everything was filled with organized, clean possessions. I even found a collection of cool beer bottles in the top of the front closet. There were clean extra sheets with the linens and vacuum, and it wasn't until I went back to the bedroom to decide what to do that I realized that my family had simply dropped my mattress on top of the old mattress, which still had its black comforter on.

Suddenly it occurred to me that maybe the apartment I was moving into was already occupied; as in, the previous owner wasn't actually previous at all.

"Oh shi-oooooot," I said out loud. I scrabbled for my phone, found the landlord's phone number on the emergency instruction sheet on the front door, and waited while it rang.

"Hullo," a tired woman's voice said.

"Hi, are you the person I talk to about problems with my apartment?"

"Sure," she said.

"Oh. OK. Well this is Meli Lyons, in 407, and I just wanted to know when the previous renter was going to pick up his stuff?"

"What stuff, hon?"

"Well, there's still a bunch of kitchen things, and the bedroom set in particular," I said as I sat in a recliner I suddenly recognized as not being my own. It was super comfy.

"What 'partment you in?"

"Four-oh-seven."

"Uh-huh. Jus' a sec'," she said. Faint sounds of keyboard tapping made me confident that she was at least pretending to help me. Then she sighed, and it was not a good sigh.

"What?" I asked.

"Nahthin'. Jus' someone was s'posed tuh pick it up. Guess they di'n't. Poor Mr. Cassidy," she said, like she wanted me to inquire further. The leather of the chair squeaked a little as I leaned into it, groaning to myself, not believing my day.

"Cassidy?" I asked.

"Oh, last guy in 407. Poor guy," she said again.

"What happened?" I was starting to feel curious.

"He died," she said.

"Died," I repeated after her.

"Terrible accident," she said. "Girlfriend walked in tuh find 'im with a bullet in his head."

"Gaa," I said. A horrible mental image flashed in my brain: a girl walks in the apartment door holding a bottle of wine. She's stylish and short, and she reaches out to flick on the lights. And then she screams because the love of her life is in the chair with a single bullet hole between the eyes. Shaking the image out of my mind proves just a tad impossible.

"Right between thuh eyes, i' was," the woman says, like she's enjoying the story. This random confirmation of my rampant brain creativity makes it even harder not to think about. And then I think, "This is his chair. I'll bet he was...oh. Oh no. Oh man." I launch myself out of the chair, almost dropping my phone in the process.

Mr. Cassidy had died in the chair I had just been sitting in; I know this because there's a large block of duct tape covering the headrest of the black leather. It's hard to see because the leather and the tape are so similar in color and sheen. But there's no doubt about it, he died there. I know it.

"Um, thanks," I say into the phone after I notice that I'm still holding it up to my ear. I punch the red phone button and absentmindedly stick the phone in my front pocket. I'm staring at Mr. Cassidy's chair and feeling significantly creeped out.

And that's when the hall bathroom door opened and closed with the tiniest of clicks.

Morinne's dreams

for zoe

Once upon a time a little girl woke up and discovered that during the night all of her dreams had come true. In fact, they were all lined up at the foot of her bed, which was especially awkward for the Cyborg Mermaid, who simply could not find a place to put her tail. The dreams all held their breaths as they watched the little girl's eyes flutter open with all the soft quickness of butterfly wings.

The girl, whose name was Morinne, stared up at the ceiling for two seconds as she dwelt on that funny 'I'm being watched' feeling. The dreams held their breaths even harder, if that's possible. And then, oh-so-slowly, Morinne lifted her head. The Prince and his Trusty Steed stood tall, grinning charmingly. Morinne hid back under her covers with a little squeal. The dreams all looked at one another, worried.

They didn't know what to do. I mean, what would you do? You suddenly find yourself out of someone else's head, and they just scream at you. It's quite the dumbfounding experience, no joke about it. Happily for the dreams, Morinne didn't make any more high-pitched sounds. She even pulled the blankets down a bit so that they could see her watermelon-sized wide blue eyes. Morinne looked back at the beginning of the row of dreams, at the Prince. He winked at her, and Morinne couldn't help but smile shyly back. Next was the Phase-Shifting Bunny, who actually never spent any time as a bunny anymore, not since he figured out that he could be a Stapler. There was just something so fascinating about being a stapler.

Morinne smiled at the Stapler, and moved on to look at the Cyborg Mermaid, who was still very busy trying to figure out where to put her tail. Aladdin, who was next in line, cleared his throat and threw his elbow sharply into the mermaid's metallic side. It clanged like an ancient bell, and the Mermaid's head shot up. Her cheeks turned pink, though one of the pinks was produced by the mechanical color screen that covered most of her left cheekbone. Morinne tilted her head. She couldn't remember dreaming about this Mermaid. The little girl continued staring, frowning a little while she tried to remember the dream. But the more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable the Mermaid looked.

Morinne began to feel a little guilty about obviously making the Mermaid sad, so she glanced at Aladdin, who opened his mouth as if he was singing. But no sound came out. Aladdin opened and closed his mouth several times, and he clasped his neck with his fingers, horror spreading over his face. He clutched at the other dreams, who all rolled their eyes at him and tried to move away. Morinne tried not to smile, and while she did she looked at them all and tried to remember each of their stories.

She remembered the Prince and his Trusty Steed well enough, but by the time she finished thinking about the Prince and began to focus on Stapler, Morinne's brain felt fuzzy and unsettled. She rubbed her tired eyes with her tiny hands and then looked at all her dreams again, determined to remember the Mermaid's story. But the Mermaid was staring in terror at the Stapler, who was staring at Aladdin. Morinne hadn't noticed, but the instant she had begun thinking about the Prince's story, everyone had started to fade. The Mermaid was watching the Stapler turn fuzzy like a badly focused photograph, and the Stapler was watching Aladdin, whose arms had disappeared before the rest of his body had got any sort of chance to fade.

Morinne gasped. No! she wanted to yell, but her mouth, like Aladdin's, produced no sound. She looked wildly around the room. All the dreams were disappearing, right down the line. The Mermaid sighed and let her shoulders slump. It never failed. Every time she broke through someone's dream barrier, they went along and tried to remember her story. Ridiculous humans. Morinne couldn't stop it now; the dreams faded and were gone in a matter of ten or eleven seconds. She sat up suddenly in bed, looking around her suddenly bland and empty room.

And then she was asleep again. Morinne's head hit the pillow with a happy little thump, and her eyes closed tightly against the real world. In her dreams, which were once again safe inside her head, a grumpy and uncomfortable Cyborg Mermaid tried to take over the world by turning everyone into staplers.

the end.

Brute, Part 5

Look left for all of the "Brute" installments that you've missed. I'm told they're pretty fun.

Leandra and I pulled up to Avel's condo complex and the first thing I did when I got out of the car was press my cold fingers into my eyeballs. I was breathing fine, in and out, in and out, and at a relatively normal pace; but this was the first time in three weeks that I had willingly seen Avel, and I wasn't sure how I was going to react when we knocked on his door. Oh, that door. He had replaced the knocker with a lion-headed knickknack from the antique store. Leandra dropped the weighted handle onto the solid wood and I sucked in my breath.

Suddenly I felt the urgent need to hide. My hair swished around my neck as I flung it from side to side, looking for a place to conceal myself. My stomach skipped the happy butterfly sequence and went to the part where you just know something awkwardly unpleasant is going to happen and it tried to tie itself into a sort of Gordian knot mixed with a tiller's knot and a bunch of random loopy things. I felt sick and woozy and...excited? Oh, no.

The door opened, and Avel was standing there in plaid shorts and white socks, barechested and looking sleepy. I may or may not have gulped at this point. He looked at me while Leandra was filling him in, and I couldn't move. I was cemented to the floor in front of his door, and I couldn't remember why I hated him so much, and then he looked away and I realized that I hadn't been breathing either. My lungs filled with cool night air and when I got my attention back in order Avel was gone somewhere in the back of the condo and Leandra and I were standing on the tile of his entry.

She turned to me and whispered, "You ok?" I nodded, I think, and then laughed a little.

"I hate him," I mouthed. She nodded. Avel reappeared wearing black all over, and a ruby-sheathed sword hung off his hip. My throat constricted when I saw the sword, the reason I had first noticed Avel, and probably the reason Leandra and Jeremiah had met and fallen in love, since Avel and I had known one another first. The day Avel and I had met we were both in a thrift store in the seedy part of downtown. The sword had been stuck in the back near the pots and pans, and we had both reached for it at the same time. It was only later that we discovered that it sharpened itself, drew no blood when you were only defending yourself, and made a killer time-space continuum ripper. Of course, that was in the hands of Avel. When I wrapped my fingers around the hilt, all I got was a very pretty, flashy sword.

Avel brushed my arm as he and Leandra went outside. It was so silly; whenever he was near, my brain went kaput. All my intellectual capacities hit a negative line and I was useless. But never once had it occurred to me, before this moment, that he was doing it on purpose. Jeremiah had turned into a werewolf. Anything was possible.

It wasn't until we were in the car and seatbelted that Avel could speak without my brain doing jumping jacks in la-la land. The sound of his voice made me jump, and at first I didn't even know that he was talking to me directly.

"Huh?" I asked eloquently.

"Did you see which way he ran?" Avel repeated patiently. I shook my head.

"After he cleared the fence I tried, but he was smart and turned into a dark color. Next time let's ask him to be white." Avel rolled his eyes at me and Leandra kept staring straight ahead. We drove for about ten minutes without saying a word, and then Avel suddenly veered the car to the left, jumping the median and giving me a pretty impressive bounce in the seat. The top of my head whomped soundly on the ceiling and, even though Leandra was screaming, all I did was grunt. The car swerved and then stopped, and before we could do anything Avel was out the door and sprinting to the fence.

Leandra and I were in a little baby moment of shock, and we watched, open-mouthed, as Jeremiah suddenly came leaping over the fence, clearing it by a good three feet. Avel followed him quickly, his long legs eating up the ground between him and his brother. Dogs all over the neighborhood were howling and barking, and I heard a few cats yowling from across the street. Avel kept reaching for Jer's tail, but each time he put forth the effort, his brother flicked it out of the way. They were getting further and further down the road, and with Leandra still silent and wide-eyed in the front seat, I jumped into action.

"Move!" I yelled. Leandra was leaning over into the driver's side, and as I threw myself into the seat I hit the gas and turned the wheel as hard as I could to the left. Wheels squealed in the darkness as the tread took to the asphalt and spun the car around almost on a dime (it was probably more like a quarter, or a two-euro piece). The front door slammed shut; I hadn't even bothered to reach over to close it when I'd moved.

It's a good thing we weren't in Avel's car, a fancy little European stick shift that I wouldn't have been able to drive. Leandra's car was fast, though, and we caught up to Avel and Jeremiah in ten seconds. It gave me a strange joy to see Avel running after a wolf-dog, breathing hard and trying to keep the sword from hitting his leg. It was taking every ounce of his concentration and strength to keep up with a four-legged animal, and knowing that made me grin, relaxed.

Leandra rolled down her window. "What should we do?" she yelled at Avel. He lifted his hands in a small shrug, and when Leandra tried to ask again, he interrupted her.

"I have to catch him!" he said. Lea nodded, then turned to me.

"Drive faster," she said.

"What? Faster than what?" He pointed at her fiance.

"Faster than him! Go!" I pressed on the gas and lined her window up with Jeremiah's head, and I was absolutely terrified the entire time that I was going to lose concentration and hit him with the car. Leandra was leaning out the window with only her shins on the chair. She pushed the toes of her right foot into the crevice between the chair and the center console, and she stretched her left leg into the space under the glove box, for balance.

"Jeremiah!" She yelled. "Honey, do you want something to drink?" Jeremiah looked at her while keeping pace, and she did a great job of looking benevolent. "I have some water and some orange juice!"

"Water sounds so good!" Jeremiah said just loudly enough for me to hear. He was breathing hard and his words were broken apart by about two seconds each, but it worked. He slowed down. I let off on the gas just as he altered his pace, and then suddenly Avel was upon him and both dog and man tumbled to the ground. Lea gasped, and I slammed on the brakes so hard that I'm pretty sure the back two tires of the car lifted off the road. Leandra was out of the car before I could even get my seat belt off, and I raced after her, grabbing her arm just before she could throw herself down next to the boys.

"Don't!" I said. "Let Avel..." Leandra stopped trying to wriggle out of my grip and stood back with me, watching Avel wrestle with his brother.

"Dude, calm down!" Avel said. His arms were around Jeremiah's neck, and Avel suddenly looked me in the eyes, then looked at the sword. I didn't even have to shoot him a questioning glance; I dropped Lea's arm, took a deep breath and darted for the sheathed sword. It slid easily out of its confines and felt clean and light in my hands. I circled the wrestling pair, holding the sword the way Avel had taught me, and slightly bent my knees, ready.

"Meli!" Leandra said. I shushed her and nodded at Avel.

"Jeremiah, stop!" Avel said. The authority in his voice even made me stand up straighter. Jeremiah paused, noticed me, and stayed still. I narrowed my eyes to get an angry effect.

"Don't make me hurt you, Wolf Boy," I said. Jeremiah whimpered. He struggled, trying to turn around so he could have a shot at Avel's neck. Avel tightened his grip and grunted with the effort. Leandra was staring at me with eyes so wide I marveled they didn't pop out of her face.

"Meli..." she said. That was it. Just my name. I dared to glance at her, and she looked terrified. Jeremiah struggled again, and she refocused her attention on him. I knew more than saw her hand move; I mean, of all the Leandra-esque things to do at that moment, reaching out to the guy with bear trap jaws and razored canines was at the top of the list, right next to begging me to put the sword away and trying to pull Avel off of his brother.

"Don't touch him!" Avel said. His voice sounded like a growl because he was putting all of his energies into holding down the wolf boy, and Leandra did jerk back. But only for a second. A moment later, she was reaching out her hand again.

With a bark and a snap, Jeremiah's doggy instincts took over and he nearly caught the tips of his fiancee's fingers in his teeth. Without thinking, I lunged. I had my left arm up, hooked pirate-style, and my legs were bent slightly less than expertly in the quad-killing fencing squat. The tip of the sword slid into the muscle of Jeremiah's shoulder before my brain really connected what I was doing with the feeling of a sword moving through someone's body.

When it finally did connect, I shuddered suddenly and almost dropped the sword. It was sick and worse than hearing a bone break. I mean, you watch movies now, and mostly what you see are machine guns and bazookas and people screaming about these tiny red dots of blood scattered like fireworks over their chest; swords are an entirely different story. Imagine sticking someone with a steak knife and being able to actually feel the seraded edge slice through individual muscles.

Jeremiah screamed, a strange half-howl that made me want to clap my hands over my ears, and in that moment I felt like my own shoulder had been pierced. It was the same second I made the mistake of looking down at the end of the blade, and the bile in my throat definitely made it to my mouth. The smell of blood hit me then, and I had to turn away. There wasn't anything else to do; the darkness was closing in, the smell of dead things was crawling up my nose... and Avel was screaming at me to look back.

I whipped my head back around just in time to see Jeremiah's fangs halt half of an inch away from my nose. He was jumping at me, completely ignoring the fact that the sword was still embedded in his sinew, and bits of saliva hit me like freckles. Leandra was screaming again, Avel was yelling, the cats were hissing, dogs were growling and barking, and I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Jeremiah!" I screamed. For effect I dug the sword deeper into his body with one hand and pointed in his face with the other. "Sit!" The sword flashed and Jer's skin rippled sickly, like it had just before he changed. I saw Avel's white teeth flash in the faint light suddenly coming from the blade. Gasping, Leandra stopped screaming and jumped to her feet.

"Meli! What did you do?" Jeremiah's teeth snapped shut and he dropped to the ground, had a brief seizure, and was still. Pretty sure I was gaping at it all.

"I...'m not... sure..." I said. I looked at my ex. He shrugged. "Avel doesn't know, either."

We all stood there, surrounded by the softly lingering scent of blood and sweat, the sounds of our breathing creating a calming rhythm in the lamplight. Jeremiah was breathing; we could hear wuffly doggy breaths coming in and out of the side of his mouth. Leandra stood with her arms crossed over her body, staring at her fiance's body. Avel coughed, hocked, and spit. Then, without ceremony, he knelt down, hoisted his brother's unconscious form onto his shoulders, and started walking away.

"Avel?" I said. Leandra and I looked at one another, totally confused. The car was right there... "Hey! Where are you going?" I jogged a couple of steps and looked up at him. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and he motioned at Jeremiah with a nod of his head.

"If he wakes up it shouldn't be in a car," he said. "Besides, I should get him home and give him his medicine."

"What?" I said. Medicine?

"So it doesn't happen again," Avel said. He glanced at Leandra, who nodded. I stared at them both.

"Waaaaaaiiiiiiiiiit a minute," I said. I giggled, then composed myself. "Wait. Medicine: OK. Again: not OK." I laughed again as my brain clicked through its information. Avel's face was expressionless, and Lea was staring at the ground, a sure sign that she was hiding something. "This has happened before?" Avel cleared his throat, and Lea tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Lemme try again: THIS HAS HAPPENED BEFO-"

"Ssshhh!" Avel's hand slammed across my mouth, sending me backwards a couple of steps. "Of course it has. Now give me the sword back." I handed it to him without thinking about it, and suddenly he was gone. No joke. Poof. Gone. Leandra finally looked up at me and smiled.

"It's all right now!" she said sunnily. She practically bounced back to the car, which she started. I was so stunned that I didn't move for a good three minutes, but then I realized how cold I was, and how late it was getting, and I fell numbly into the shotgun seat. Leandra chattered on the way back to my car, but I didn't contribute.

All I could think about was whether Jeremiah's medicine was Pepto Pink and injectable, or Excedrin White and in pill form. When I got home I ate about half of Natalie's coffee cake before passing out on my bed in my jeans and bra. And that was that. No more doggyness, no more screams. And Leandra never, ever mentioned it, ever again.

Brute, Part 4

I don't know what happens when other people suggest to their friends that they should kill their werewolf fiances with silver bullets, but Lea didn't react in a very happy way. I mean, I really wasn't serious. Of course not, that would be cruel. But Leandra didn't really get that part, so her reaction was that of a person being told to coldly create puree out of the love of her life. Oops.

Leandra was so shocked by the suggestion that she didn't even look at me. She looked past me, at a little aberration in the tile on the wall of the kitchen. I know this because I turned around, saw it, too, and stepped in front of it. Leandra blinked.

"Lea. Joking. We're not going to kill him," I said. She nodded dumbly. I picked up my glass and started to lift it to my lips, silently searching for a less bloody solution. I had no idea what to do. Usually in the stories this was the part when some expert werewolf hunter or crazy-cool vampire turned up to help the heroines out. Inadvertently, I glanced around the small room, and then smiled when I realized I was waiting for the door to slam open to reveal the black trench coat and rakish hat of someone not unlike Van Helsing.

Nothing happened. I'm pretty sure nothing happened for a while, because suddenly I blinked and Leandra wasn't standing in front of me anymore. And she wasn't outside with Jeremiah. Crap. Where...?

Something crashed down the small hallway, and I bounded (as literally as possible) around the corner. Leandra was extricating herself out of the tiny guest bedroom, which serves double duty as a storage area. She had changed into a white longsleeve shirt that probably was her fiance's, and she was carrying a couple of golf clubs. Oh, and she was wearing a monstrous silver chain -- the kind usually used in industrial zones -- around her shoulders like a scarf.

"What?" she said when she saw my face. "It's cold outside." I opened my mouth without realizing it and tried to say something that wasn't stupid. What the heck were they doing with a chain like that in the hall closet?

By the time I got around to verbally reacting to her appearance, all that came out was, "A little." Leandra stopped in front of me and stood up straight so she could adjust the chain.

"OK, here's what's going to happen. We're going to convince him he's a wolf. And then go from there. Yes?"

"Uh...yes?"

"No, you can't question the 'yes'! It's either a solid 'yes' or no 'yes' at all!"

"Ah," I said, not feeling entirely sure about the whole thing, especially since she felt it necessary to bring out the clubs. My golf lessons had involved tiny white balls, not wolves. Nevertheless, I held out my hand and she placed one of the clubs in it. I hefted it like I would a tennis racket, trying to figure out what exactly I was going to be using it for. The idea of hitting anything in the face with it was making me a tad queasy.

"I'll try first," Leandra said. She moved past me, holding her club casually in front of her, and exited through the back door. Should I stop her? I thought. Ha, was my answer. She wasn't going to be stopped. At least, not by me or anything else in the immediate vicinity. Her tennis shoes squeaked on the metal threshold and I winced at the sharp sound. It was a moment before I reminded myself that we didn't need the element of surprise. No matter what, Jeremiah was gonna be really surprised in the next few moments.

Holding my club just below the rubbery grip, I went to stand in the doorway. A cool night breeze blew my hair into my face and I choked again on the smell of bunny blood. Leandra only looked at me once more, just before she crouched down and reached out her hand toward Jeremiah's head. Her fingers clenched almost before they had a grip on the fur around his neck, at least, it looked that way from my point of view. I knew she had a good grip on him because Jeremiah flinched.

"Ow!" He said. "Hey!"

"Sorry, babe," Leandra said. "But you have to listen to me. You turned into a dog...wolf...thing. You didn't cook that rabbit; you killed a bunny with your teeth."

Jeremiah looked back at me. I screwed up my lips and nodded. He put his head back down and sighed, "But I don't feel like a wolf." He paused and looked down at himself, moving his paws experimentally. "I look fine to me."

"Jer," I said as I stepped down onto the cement step. "You really did, and you are. You just...can't tell." A cricket chirped happily. The blood was getting to me, I could feel more than see my vision going black, since it was already so dark. Leandra still had her hand on Jeremiah's neck. Suddenly, he jumped up, baring his teeth at us and growling. If I'd had any more water in me, I totally would have peed my pants.

"I don't believe you, you girls are crazy!" he yelled, breaking into a low growl and baring his teeth at us. I bent my knees, preparing for some sort of attack. "Why are you saying this?" he snarled. Leandra and I exchanged looks, speechless.

"Look at the steps, Jeremiah! There's blood all over them! How do you explain that?" Jeremiah took the tiniest of steps forward so he could see the concrete, which was indeed stained with bright blood like venomous nail polish. I blinked, trying and failing to figure out where that comparison came from. I don't even own red polish. Weird... Blinking again, I yanked myself back to the present, where Leandra and Jeremiah were yelling at one another. Every thing Leandra used to prove Jeremiah was a werewolf of sorts, Jeremiah scoffed at.

"I'm not!" He screamed with a note of finality and, with a grace usually attributed to panthers and other great cats, Jeremiah turned on his fuzzy doggy legs and leaped over the fence. He landed soundlessly on the other side and even though I knew we couldn't get to the fence fast enough to stop him, I sprinted after him and ended up slamming into the fence. Leandra tried jumping the fence but she was too short to get anywhere, and we looked at one another dumbly.

"Now what?" I asked. Leandra bit her nail and stared at the ground, looking like she didn't want to say what she was thinking because she knew I would make her do it. The downcast angle of her eyes told me that asking again wasn't going to make her talk sooner, so I turned back and partially climbed one of the trees in the yard. Obviously I was hoping to see the retreating form of the doggy fiance, but no luck. It was so dark that even lightly colored objects were a pain to keep track of. I got back down and stood with my arms crossed. Lea suddenly nodded.

"Ok. I know what we're going to do," she said. I waited. She hesitated. I raised my eyebrows and tried to look in her face; she looked away. And then she bit her lip just before saying, "Iknowyou'regoingtohatemebutwehavetogotalktoAvel."

I took half a step backwards and dropped the head of my golf club to the ground. It thumped dully and seemed to perfectly explain how I felt about the situation. Avel? She would say that we had to go see him. Idiot. When I think of Avel, the little voice in my head says, "Freeekimpher grumbleassolpher stupid Avel." There are several variations; that just happens to be my favorite.

Avel is...Avel. He was the last, well, involvement I had. Not quite boyfriend, not quite friend, that sort of thing. It had lasted far too long, and sometimes when I heard his name my stomach would vault into butterfly somersaults before I remembered that I hated his guts. I grimaced and looked at Leandra, begging her with my eyes to take it back even while knowing that she was right. Avel was the only one who would be able to talk to Jeremiah without causing terrible things to happen.

They were, after all, twin brothers.

Brute, Part 3

Hold it. Whoa, yeah, OK, so in case you didn't notice, this is PART 3. That means you may have missed the other two installments of "Brute". I'll give you a few minutes to catch up. You're welcome. -m
Brute, Part 1
Brute, Part 2

Leandra and Jeremiah were in the backyard talking, and I watched them from inside the house with an eyebrow raised . I had left the glass door open so as to avoid any comedic accidents in the event that Jeremiah went berserk again.

The sun was gone now, leaving only a few pinkish remnants of light over the mountains. If I stood on the very edge of the threshold I could see the orange moon rising higher in the sky. Now that Jeremiah was sitting there being all canine-like, I made a face at the moon, feeling ridiculous for thinking it was somehow responsible for all this.

Bouncing on my toes, I watched Leandra pat her new dog on the head, smile, and say something in his ear. I didn't really feel like venturing out there, so I stood on the brink of inside and outside, waiting. The first thing I had done when I'd gone inside was grab my phone out of my bag on the couch. I was flipping it over and over in my hand; it was strangely reassuring to hear the plastic smack against my palm. The time for helping my sister move out was way past; I had already texted her and explained things. Sort of. I hadn't been very specific.

Leandra suddenly stood and came toward me. I moved aside and she brushed past me as she wiped her cheek with her hand. The look I gave her must have been sufficiently quizzical, because she made a face as she got some water from the kitchen.

"He licked me," she said as she wiped her hand on her jeans. I couldn't help it -- I started laughing. She glared at me. "It's not funny."

"No, of course not. I'm sorry," I said. I tossed my head to get my hair out of my eyes and straightened up a little, trying to look the very image of seriousness. But then the thought of Jeremiah slapping a wet doggy kiss on my friend's face made the smile come back.

"Stop it!" Leandra said, whacking me on the arm. She sipped at the cool water and hesitated a moment more before saying, "What are we going to do?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. What do you wanna do?"

"I...I don't know." She looked out to the yard and grimaced when she saw Jeremiah scratching his neck with his back foot.

"Well, what do you want me to do? Should I stay? We could call someone..." I looked at her from the corner of my eye, gauging her reaction. Leandra simply shrugged at everything I said and stayed silent. I leaned back against the door. If she wasn't going to want to call the police or animal control or something, there really wasn't much I could do. I looked at Jeremiah, who was sitting silently outside. "What's he doing?"

"He said the stars were really pretty and told me to go grab some blankets so we could lay out and look at them," Leandra said. She sounded pretty miserable. I hid a smile by focusing on my confusion.

"Oh," was all I said that time. This was followed by an eloquent, "Ummm." Leandra looked me in the eyes and then patted me on the arm.

"You should go home," she said. I raised my eyebrows, thinking she was just trying to be nice.

"You're sure?" She nodded and looked out at Jeremiah, who was still waiting.

"He won't hurt me or anything. We'll just stargaze a while and then I'll go home, too," she said. I pursed my lips, thought for a sec, and then decided to do as she suggested.

"Call if you need me, lady," I said as I walked out the front door. I didn't hear her answer.

---

Teia was amused my my late arrival, as she proved when she bounded into me when I got home. I barely had time to keep my keys from stabbing her in the stomach.

"You deserted me!" she said dramatically, throwing her head to one side and pretending to be distressed.

"Hardly," I said, struggling to breathe in Teia's death grasp. "Leandra had some problems. Problems worse than you being physically unable to throw away junk." Teia dropped her arms and grinned mischievously.

"Junk you gave me," she said as I moved past her into the kitchen. Natalie , the other little sister, was standing in front of a mixing bowl holding a whisk in one hand and a spatula in the other.

"Because you asked for it!" I yelled. Teia laughed and I heard her thunder up the stairs to her room. It was probably mostly empty by now, and I did feel a slight twinge of guilt as I plopped into a chair by the counter, watching Natalie navigate a recipe. Just as she was leaning past me to grab an egg sitting in the spoon holder by the sink, she made a face.

"You smell weird," she said.

"Gee, thanks."

"And you're covered with black hairs. Stop leaning on the table!" she added suddenly when I put my elbows up. "Out! Out of my kitchen! You're going to get fur in everything!" I stuck my tongue out at her and went to flop on the couch in the living room, but I only made it to the floor.

Laying there on my back, I stared blankly at the vaulted ceiling and decided that stretching would feel really good. I straightened out and lifted both of my feet, keeping my legs straight as long as possible. When my feet were nearly touching the floor behind my head, I held them there and marveled at how wonderful it felt. Teia came pounding down the stairs.

"That looks comfy," she said sarcastically and giggled.

"Shut up and try it yourself before you judge me," I said. "I am comfortable." She shook her head and went into the kitchen for a moment. I heard the fridge door open and close, and then she was back, but moving toward the front door.

"Meeting Isaac," she said. I dropped my legs and rolled over, mouth open to question her, but the door slammed shut and she was gone. I rolled again so I could see Nat and I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Do we know Isaac?" I asked, though I knew the answer. Natalie shrugged and shook her head. "Didn't think so."

I had just made it back down to my room when I heard my phone start to ring. Every happy thought inside of me that had been thinking about reading and then going to bed jumped off a cliff when I glanced at the caller ID. Leandra. I knew I shouldn't be rolling my eyes at a time like this, but hey, I was tired, and, I remembered at that moment, I hadn't eaten dinner.

"Hey," I said as I flipped the phone open. "What's up?"

"Oh, god, Meli, you have to come back," Leandra said. I immediately ran back up the stairs. That was real terror in her voice.

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" I scrambled to find my keys. Where had I put them? The table? No, not on the table. Crap. Maybe in my...no. Shoot. OK, keys, call to me, I thought.

"I...I don't know! One minute we were just lying there, talking, and the next....oh, Meli." I found the keys were they always are -- on the hook in the front closet.

"What?!?" I yelled. Leandra was obviously not thinking very quickly. She was speaking quickly, but only in groups of three or four words at a time. And then she just stopped like that, and everyone knows that when someone stops before telling you something that made them call you with horror haunting their words, well, you just know it's not gonna be good.

"He killed a bunny!" I stopped suddenly on my way out the door, my fingers on the handle. I thought for a few seconds, sure that Leandra had said something else. My phone had to have messed that one up. Either way, I was much calmer and prone to patience, and since I couldn't come up with anything else that she might have said (Killed the money? What? No.), I asked her to repeat what she'd said.

"We were on the grass, and I had my hand on his back, and then...and then....he jumped up and he killed a little baby bunny!" I almost dropped the phone I was laughing so hard. Needless to say, it's a good thing she couldn't see me at that moment, because, oh man, did I lose it. Completely.

"Did he save some for you?" I asked. I heard her gasp.

"Meli! That's disgusting!"

"Hey, now, I'm just sayin'....if the man wants to put food on the table...." I said.

"Could you come over? Please? It's getting worse."

"What do you mean?" I asked, swallowing my laughter as I heard her new, quieter tone. I used her pause to yell at Natalie that I was leaving again and shut the door.

"Can you just come?" I nodded even though she couldn't see or sense it and started my car.

"Ten minutes," I said. Leandra thanked me and I flipped the phone shut and dropped it in my cup holder between the front seats. I don't usually speed too terribly, but I shortened the ten minute drive to Jeremiah's place to about six minutes, which is impressive, I think. Just as I pulled up, I mused that maybe by "come over" Leandra had meant to her place, but I shook my head at that one, because of course she wouldn't have left him yet. I got out of my car and found myself walking very, very slowly up to the door.

Leandra met me there; her hair was running loose and looked a little static-y, and the free strands made her wide open eyes look profoundly stricken. Without a word she led me through the small home and to the back yard where, illuminated gently by the moonlight, I could see tufts of white fur scattered all over the grass. Jeremiah was lounging in doggy form against the step, and he was gnawing on something.

The smell of blood suddenly hit me, and I dry retched a little. When my second grade class had gone on a field trip to the Natural History Museum downtown to watch a lamb's heart dissection, I had swooned -- yes, swooned -- and barely made it out the door before fainting full out on the disgustingly decorated, unpadded carpet of the Hall of Life. Blood and I aren't friends.

Jeremiah heard me (probably smelled me, too) and looked up at me, grinning with teeth covered in baby bunny blood. "Hey, Meli," he said. Weird to hear your name coming from the murderous fangs of your friend's fiance.

"Hi, Jer. Uh... whatcha got there?"

"Dinner. Cooked up some rabbit." I glanced at Leandra with my eyes squinted, hoping for an explanation. She looked at me with a look along the lines of "I told you so" and then motioned for me to pay attention. As if I wanted to miss any of this.

Leandra knelt down near his head, so that he still had to look back at us a little, and said, "Jer? Honey? Is your fur keeping you warm enough?" Jeremiah looked at her with so much confusion brimming in his eyes that my jaw dropped as I began to comprehend.

"Fur? Oh, you mean my jacket? Sure, it's fine. Still pretty warm out." Leandra stood and looked me in the eyes. The light from the kitchen door swathed her face in a slightly yellow glow that almost made her brown eyes look gold. I doubt she could see me very well. I stared at Jeremiah for a second, trying to piece things together, and then I shot my hand out and yanked Leandra inside with me. I pulled her into the kitchen and made a lot of noise by pulling a cup out of the cupboard and turning on the sink for water.

"He doesn't know he's a monstrous, furry brute of a fanged killer thing!" I hissed, trying to get all of my feelings into one sentence. I think I succeeded. I didn't even hesitate before adding, "He killed a baby bunny!" Oh, yes, I said it. And without laughing, too.

"I know!" Leandra said. "What did you think I meant?" I took a few big gulps of water, trying to calm myself by filling my belly. I stared out the window.

"How can you not know that your body popped itself out of human mode and into wolf mode? How? It's not possible, I tell you! It's not!" Leandra put her hand on my arm, and I stuck my nose in my glass again, briefly wishing that Jeremiah believed in liquid stronger than caffeinated coffee.

"SShhhh! He'll hear you!" Leandra said, throwing a glance toward the back door.

"'Oh, you mean my jacket?'" I mumbled, imitating Jeremiah's voice. "Oh, it's very warm. Hi, guys, I'm a black-eyed killer from your nightmares, if you don't mind please would you set the bunnies loose?" I flexed my fingers in front of Leandra's face and made wild hand motions to emphasize key points of my tiny monologue, but she ignored me. At least, she pretended to.

"Shut up! We have to figure out what to do," Leandra said. She pinched my arm and I snapped out of my little reaction just in time to stave of the hyperventilating. I put the glass down and lowered my arms at the same time, as though pressing my irrationality into the nether regions of the house.

"Well," I said, weighing my words. "Do you have any silver bullets?"