Hunted

[Starla]

I’m going crazy. There isn’t any way I just saw that. There’s just no way… I need to duck into a bar, get something to drink. ****, what the hell is wrong with this town?

The short, slender blonde pushed a trembling hand to her temple, trying to rub away the headache that threatened to split her skull in two. She was fighting herself, telling her that what she had just seen was a hallucination, a trick of the mind.

She’d seen the woman with the dark hair again. She’d stood as tall and pale as before, her movements an impossible display of elegance and grace as she’d descended upon that poor girl. The victim couldn’t have been… say, eighteen. Barely old enough to be out on her own at night. Certainly not old enough to be out this late, though. There had been something shady about the entire thing, but the minute Starla saw blood, she’d shouted into the alley. When the woman turned, she could see her face, and she knew.

It was the same one from the night at the expo.

Blood ran down her chin in wild rivulets as the young blonde twitched in her arms, making a choked sound as blood gushed from her throat. Starla all but blinked, and they were both gone. She felt like she was going insane. Did she see them? Were they real? Was this the product of some kind of sleep deprivation?

She would admit, she had hardly slept in the last three nights, tossing and turning all through the night while the ink in her lower back burned her flesh. She’d had the girls look at it, and none of them had seen anything out of the ordinary. It wasn’t infected, or swollen, there was nothing wrong with it. But there had to be! It was driving her mad. There was some sort of explanation, she knew, and she knew who would have the answers she was after.

That girl from the tattoo shop, the one that had given her the ink in the first place. She had done something to her, and Starla wasn’t going to stop looking for her until she found her. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, fighting back tears of pain as the blinding pain in her back subsided. It had only now begun to settle into a controllable ache, the sight of the woman… doing what appeared to be biting that girl to death had caused the pain to become a white hot knife jammed into her spine. She’d nearly crumpled into the snow right there.

What was she supposed to do?

If she talked to the girls, they would think she was crazy. Her mom, if she listened at all, would just throw money at a therapist and tell her to try to not sleep with this one, too. Everything was coming down around her, and she was so lost, she felt like she was drowning. She placed her face in her hands and took a slow, steady breath before she finally steeled herself, and pushed her way into the bar.

It turned out to be an Irish Pub, which one, she hadn’t the slightest idea. Signs were the last thing she was reading as her bright, molten gold stare moved from face to face, lupine glare suspicious and unrelenting as she finally backed her way up to the bar. She turned, and gave the bartender, a gruff, portly man with wiry red hair the stiffness and consistency of steel bristles, a wide and kind smile. She passed her eyes over the selection of bottles before she sighed, and settled for an Irishman’s specialty.

“Let me have the strongest whisky you’ve got on that shelf, old man. Biggest glass you’re willing to part with.” She gave him a slow wink, the movement of those glimmering eyes mesmerizing. He had her drink in a flash, though he didn’t say a word, and merely made a note on the pad beneath the bar, opening up her tab.

She sighed, and turned to look through the bar, half expecting to see a glimpse of silky black hair, or bloody red lips. Maybe even a flash of fangs. She grimaced, shuddering lightly as she sipped from the shot glass, before knocking it back, and slamming it onto the bar. The tender was at her service immediately, refilling the glass. She gave him a smile of thanks, and let this one sit a moment as she gazed through the crowd.

She’s close… I don’t know how I know… but I know.
****, maybe I just need to go home. Pack up, and go back to Alaska.
I was safe in Anchorage.
I was sane in Anchorage.

She finally slammed the second shot, and shook her head at the burn in her throat, with a wild laugh of pleasure. At least, on the outside, she could appear normal. If the crazy apparition tried anything here, she would know it well before it got to her. She pushed her back against the wall and let her eyes lazily follow the shapes of people’s figures, moving from one face to the next, hoping that she caught more than just a glimpse of the woman that was haunting her.

[Starla]

The darkness here in Harper Rock had turned into a sort of nightmarish wonderland for Starla. During the daylight hours, she was at ease. She could relax, spend time with her girls, feel normal. Until she had stopped in that tattoo parlor. That was when everything changed, when she let that woman, that Katja *****, put her hands on her, put her art on her skin. Ever since then, her problems had been innumerable. She’d been half out of her mind most nights, as soon as the sun went down. It was like half the people she passed on the street set off whatever it was she had done to her. Half the eyes she saw set her blood to a boil, set fire to her veins. She was in constant pain, always feeling someone close, someone watching her. It set her on edge, and she couldn’t stand it.

She finished her shot and frowned into the glass, tapping a nail against the side as she glowered into it, reflecting on what had become of everything since they had decided to come to Canada. They’d lost their match, knocking them off the tournament roster and sending them home for the rest of the season. That had been disheartening, but hardly unexpected when they were a body down. ******* Shado.

Wherever you are, Quentyn, I’m sorry, girl. You deserved better than you got. This one’s for you.

She hoisted her glass in a silent toast to her fallen teammate and knocked back the shot. She fought to smile, to ward away the concerned glances she was getting, and failed horribly. A young man, the typical frat douche type with the frat douche hair and the douche polo with the popped collar and pastel pinks and navy stripes tried to step to her, leaning onto the bar at her side and offering her what she had to admit was a charming smile, even if his stupid hair made him look like some kind of 90’s poster kid for some boyband. He leaned into her space, the warmth of him radiating over her as he spoke, the sweet, minty scent of his breath mixing neatly with the musky scent of his cologne, even if it was overpowering.

She finally let him catch her attention, somewhere halfway through his sentence. “…you sittin’ here all by yourself, thought maybe you could use some company. Me an’ my boys are about to head out to a party, if you wanna tag along?” She was used to this, honestly. She set herself up for this kind of attention every time she stepped in a bar, and if she was completely honest with herself, she didn’t really mind catching someone’s eye. Even when she wasn’t interested, it was nice to know someone was looking.

A party could be fun. Even with this scumbag and his shitty friends tailing along. I could use the unwind, this tension is driving me crazy.

She curled her lips into a kind smile, about to make a little dance around accepting the offer when a hand fell on the man’s shoulder. Hard nails painted the color of blood dug into his shirt, a painful grip just to look at. The hard lacquer glinted in the dim light of the bar, catching her eye in an instant, drawing her away from the man’s face that she had all but already forgotten. The grip tugged the man aside and pushed him away without much effort at all. The tall, statuesque owner of that fascinating hand stood between the tiny woman and her suitor as the man gripped his shirt. “What the hell was that for…?”

Starla could see an insult dying on the tip of his tongue. That sentence wasn’t meant to end there, but the tide of curses collapsed before it had even begun. The look in his eyes was somewhere between an addled confusion and terror. He rubbed at his shoulder and watched as the monumental woman lifted that mesmerizing hand and flicked it in a dismissal. “Get lost, and I’ll forget that you were hitting on my girlfriend.” The man looked like he was about to protest before he simply turned and returned to his friends at their table, tail tucked between his legs. “Fuckin’ dykes.” he hissed at the small knot of men around the table, and the whole lot of them erupted in laughter at his miserable failure.

The pain in Starla’s entire form was so intense, she couldn’t see straight. Something about this woman was tearing her apart from the inside, every vein in her body a white hot flame licking across her skin. Her hand trembled, the glass in her grasp threatening to fall into the floor. The raven-haired woman turned and took the glass from her hand, setting it neatly on the bar as she gave a cruel smile. “So, we finally have a chance to talk. You gave me a nasty cut last time.”

Realization dawned immediately, the light in Starla’s bright blue eyes flicked on, and her eyes went wide. “You… but your face…” The woman smirked, glossy lips glistening in the light as she placed that mesmerizing fingertip against Starla’s pink lips. “Shh, in a minute. It’s rude to not offer me a drink, you know, before we dive into conversation.” Blue eyes trembled before the frightening onyx glare that seemed to swallow her.

Even in the pain that engulfed her, Star’s hand moved to flip one of the empty glasses, pouring her mysterious companion a shot. When she set the bottle down again, two glasses were full, and she could only vaguely remember even wanting to pour the drinks. She shook her head, fighting through the agony that raked along her back like razorblades. “You aren’t my girlfriend.” was the most that she could manage as she watched the dark haired beauty lift her glass and laugh.

Seeing her now, standing at the bar and actually trading words with her, she didn’t seem so tall. She was only marginally taller than Starla, and that wasn’t saying very much at all as the blonde stood shy of five feet at only four feet, eleven inches. The stranger shrugged an ivory pale shoulder and sipped at the whiskey with a shudder. It was visibly difficult for her to swallow, Starla saw, as she fought the urge to spit the drink into the floor and vomit. The blonde easily swallowed her liquor and watched the woman with a frightened interest. “No. No, I’m not, but did you see how fast he ran away when he was shut down like that? That’s the kind of thing people talk about when they use the word priceless, sweetheart. I would do it again, too.” She chuckled, the sound velvety soft and thick with a wickedness that wrapped itself around the small blonde and crawled across her skin.

Starla cringed and the stranger shook her head. “My name is Aerolyn. Aerolyn Vanderbilt. I’m a local, sort of. I’ve been living here in Harper Rock for…” She paused, that blood red nail tapping at her pouted lower lip in a slow rhythm as she thought, dark eyes rolling to the ceiling as she leaned against the bar. “Well, that isn’t important. What matters is, you’re new here, and you’ve caught my eye in a most interesting way, Starla.”

The blonde’s eyes went wide as she struggled with the fear, pushing it down and swallowing it back as she fought to rationalize what was going on, how this complete stranger, Aerolyn, knew her name. It took her a moment to remember that she was famous, that anyone that followed the MLG would know her team, would know anything about them that they might want to know. For the first time in her life, she dreaded being any sort of celebrity in any ring. This, however, did give some insight into the woman, that she was at least a gamer, if not a fan. She smiled, and poured another shot. “So did you see the match last week, or were you just waiting outside?”

The raven haired beauty finished her shot with effort, and a grimace crossed her beautiful, pale face as she set the glass down and shook her head. “I couldn’t stand to see you lose. I just waited in the snow. I dare say we got off on quite the wrong foot.” Something about the way this woman looked at her made Starla want to crawl out of her skin. She gave her the creeps on a level she couldn’t ever have thought to explain, and the pain radiating through her entire body made her want to do nothing but scream in agony, to put as much distance between them as possible. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, fighting against the gut wrenching agony that twisted through her and caused her leg to twitch uncontrollably, her thigh trembling with anticipation, an absurd desire to run.

“Well, we were a man down, losing was hardly a shock to anyone. We’re taking in trials now, actually.”

Why the **** did I say that?
Are you ******* stupid, Star? Of course you are. You’re such a stupid *****. What the **** are you thinking? Why don’t you just invite her back to the penthouse? Hell, why don’t you just go back now and kill the girls yourself? They won’t even fight back, sure. They love you, they trust you. ******* idiots. You’re an idiot. You’ve as good as killed them all.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. ****, ****.

“Oh, I know. You didn’t really think I’d miss something like that, did you? If I can track you down to some little hole in the wall like this, then surely I know all about your public announcement to look for local talent, Starla. What do you think, that I’m stupid?” The woman gave a cruel smile and leaned closer, a sharp nail resting against the blonde’s jaw as she looked over her face, jotting every detail into her memory, inventorying the curve of her dark brows, the slender shape of her nose, the soft, glistening pink of her lips. She counted every freckle, memorized every dimple and curve even as the blonde shot back with a gasp of pain, her hand shooting to the place the woman had touched her face.

There was nothing there, no wound, no blood, but the pain had felt like she’d been shot in the face. She grit her teeth and suppressed the urge to scream. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she wanted to get away from this woman, and at the same time she couldn’t stand. She tried to drop from the stool, and her legs dangled uselessly in the air, hot pink Converse tangled into the stool’s legwork. “Please stop…” she breathed, a whisper so quiet she couldn’t even hear herself. Aerolyn laughed, the sound another wicked wave of darkness that imprisoned the small blonde.

“Not until I’m finished. Then… maybe. Right now, I’m having too much fun.” Aerolyn leaned closer, just shy of touching the captured woman, causing the flames to lick along her skin, teasing along her entire frame as the dark beauty hovered over her, tongue sliding lightly along her lips, tasting what little drops of whiskey remained. She smirked, and rolled her wrist at the bottle. “You should pour me another drink.” Starla couldn’t stop herself, watching in horror as her arm moved, as her own will was bent, actually wanting to do as she was told, even if she knew she didn’t really want it, if it was the last thing she really wanted to do.

“What the **** are you?” she whispered, her entire body trembling in the strain of her fight against the oppression of her will. The entire encounter was tearing her apart. Part of her wanted to fall into this woman and do anything she asked of her, to willingly follow after her like a lost puppy. The other part of her wanted to shove a knife through her eye. Another part wanted to run away, to be left alone, to hide and curl into a ball and cry. The last part, she found herself hating, she was turning on herself, fighting an internal struggle as this woman had her way with her, bent her to her will with an ease that terrified her.

What do you want from me? What are you going to do to me?

Simple. Anything I want.

Starla half leaped out of her skin at the woman’s voice in her mind, her lips parted on a yelp that was silenced with another touch of that mesmerizing digit, the gentle touch like a fire against her lips, silencing her on a gasp. “Shh! I swear, I’m starting to think you’re as stupid as your hair suggests.” She pushed her digit into the blonde’s flesh, the physical sting as sharp as the one to her pride as she recoiled, but obeyed, and kept quiet. Aerolyn gave a wry twist of her lips as her expression turned smug. “Good, puppy. You take to direction well.”

She didn’t even dare think, though she could feel the anger inside of her, pulling to the forefront with a powerful surge, her hand curling around the bottle. The image of her hand clutching the broken neck of the bottle, shoving it into the *****’s neck flashed into her mind before she could stop it. The woman’s hand rested on hers and she bit back a gasp, hand opening and dropping the bottle to the bar, the half bottle of whiskey falling onto its side and spilling across the counter.

“Oh, what the hell. Stupid ***** spilled the ******* booze.” the tender hissed under his breath as he turned to right the bottle. He gave her a half-hearted smile and set the bottle on a coaster as he grabbed a rag and started to clean the counter in front of the two beauties, the older gentleman hardly phased by their physical attractiveness. He was clearly jaded, working around such types all night. “You’ll have to pay for the bottle sweetheart, sorry. Owner’s policy. I’ll get this cleaned up right quick, and can I get anything else for you ladies?” Aerolyn set her eyes on the man and they flashed a deep, bloody red as she gave a smile. “Get me the backroom special, if you don’t mind?”

Understanding flashed across the older man’s face and he turned white as a sheet. He was gone before Starla realized he had turned away from them. The agony in her arm was unbearable. She looked to her wrist, where the woman still grasped her firmly, and half expected her flesh to be charred black. She saw nothing there, no sort of wound, but she was repulsed by the hand on her skin. She bit her lip as she took a slow breath. “If you want to keep talking, you’re going to have to stop touching me. You’re hurting me.” The woman’s grasp became light as air, though the fire didn’t relent until her hand fell away. Actual remorse crossed the woman’s pale, elegant face as she frowned.

“I’m sorry. This is going all wrong. I was never supposed to hurt you.” Something in the woman’s eyes told her she was telling the truth, but no matter what she might say, no matter how convincing she may ask, the fact was that her very presence was an agony that Starla could barely stand. She flexed her fingers as she grabbed the bottle again, this time pouring a glass quickly before she set it aside, pushing any thoughts of murdering the woman with the broken bottle aside. She doubted, somehow, that something so simple would work anyway. The longer she sat at this woman’s side, the more she came to realize that there was more and more to this situation that she was so far from understanding… she had never felt so blonde.

She felt herself about to apologize as well, just as the bartender returned. A vintage bottle of red wine was tucked neatly beneath one arm, cradled carefully like a priceless bottle that would shatter at the wrong touch. He held it out for Aerolyn’s inspection, the dark haired woman leaning across the bar and narrowing her dark eyes on the dusty label, black brows drawn tightly in concentration before she nodded, and relaxed, giving the man a smile. “Perfect, thank you sir. Two glasses if you would?”

The bartender looked between them, his pale, dull stare moving from one beautiful face to the other as he blinked slowly, working his jaw in silence. Finally, he turned to Aerolyn. “Two? Are you cert-” She held up a hand and glowered at him, another flash of her eyes as the man timidly set the bottle on the bar and reached for a pair of fluted wine glasses. “Thank you. I think you’ll find this more than acceptable compensation.” The woman pushed a small stack of bills across the bar and the man took them, retreating quickly without another glance at Starla.

Chuckling cruelly, Aerolyn glanced at the blonde from the corner of her eye as she popped the cork on the wine, something she achieved with just a single nail and her bare hands. Just the small act made Star watch in wonder, her eyes following the pale length of the woman’s arm to her face, where she smiled as the mysterious woman poured two glasses. “Now, maybe this will help you understand a little more.” she said quietly as she lifted her glass, placing the other in Starla’s hand. She tapped the lip of her glass to Star’s and smirked. “To new beginnings, to understanding.” Starla watched as the woman stared her down, waiting for a response as the blonde fought another tremble. Just her stare was haunting, the same eyes she’d seen in nightmares for weeks now. She swallowed her fear.

“To freedom.”

You’ve done it now.

The beauty ignored her thought, she knew, as she had already exhibited her ability to hear anything she might thing, and withdrew her glass with a scowl, sipping healthily at her drink before she watched the blonde with a predator’s glower, the heat from her glare was almost lethal as the glass touched her soft lips. The sharp tang of the scent hit her nose, a pleasant, sweet aroma that promised a pleasant taste that followed. The initial splash of flavor was sharp, sweet as it washed across her tongue before she could sift through the overwhelming blend of sharp grape and the metallic tang of the wine’s second base. Her eyes shot open and Aerolyn had to catch her arm before she could throw the glass across the bar. The other hand clapped over her face, nearly blinding her with pain as her entire world turned into a blinding white light of agony.

The only thing she could see was Aerolyn’s glossy lips as she hissed against her face, the sweet, bloody scent of the wine washing over her face. “Do you understand yet, you simple minded *****? I’m more than you’re ever going to hope to be. I’m superior to you filthy cattle in every way. Your only purpose here is to serve us, to provide for us whatever we wish. Do you see it yet? There’s nothing you can do to stop me from doing whatever I please, Starla, so stop resisting.” The blonde could feel another wave of that darkness sweep over her, threatening to drag her under, to drown her in the woman’s will as she struggled to keep her head above the tide. Her body swayed drunkenly as the pain subsided, Aerolyn’s hand pulled away from her face as her blue eyes finally began to focus again. The smug, twisted smirk on the… ‘woman’s’ face frightened her like nothing before.

“I’m going to break you eventually, Starla. Fighting this hard is admirable, don’t get me wrong, but you can’t keep it up forever.” Gritting her teeth in frustration and effort, Starla managed to lift her hands to the glass, taking a sip in spite of Aerolyn’s will to keep her still. It was only an instant before she felt a sharp prick just beneath her left breast, a painful pressure between her ribs as she looked down at the long, immaculate blade Aerolyn had pressed against her chest, threatening to impale her rapidly beating heart. “I don’t understand you, Star. I’ve never seen anyone fight me this much. I won’t be bad to you, I’m a very considerate person. You should see that by now, surely?”

Starla shook her head, fighting to clear her mind as the woman leaned into her again, her lips nearly pushed to her cheek as she whispered, the scent of her breath suddenly a sickening blend of blood and death, making the blonde’s stomach roil as she fought to lean away, managing just the slightest bend of her spine. “Don’t make me do this. Killing you would be the most awful waste…” she lifted her hand and traced a single nail along the neckline of Star’s top, the hook of her nail threatening to peel the clothing from her chest and she grimaced in effort to break herself free. “I asked you not to touch me.” she tried to snap, managing a hateful hiss as the woman laughed. “And I told you there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Now. Stop moving, or I’m going to have to drag your corpse out of here.”

Aerolyn’s hand moved to cup Starla’s breast, squeezing the flesh in her palm, weighing it like she might a melon from the market, squeezing to test its firmness. The invasion sent a volcano of rage through Starla’s entire body, her spine snapping to attention as her arm shot forward, gripping the vampire’s wrist with a painful power, feeling the bones beneath her delicate skin groaning in protest to her strength as she pulled the blade from her chest. “I think that’s enough.” She twisted her grip, and felt the bones beneath her grip snap, Aerolyn’s fingers falling open as she gave a gasp of pain. Starla’s free hand reached to grasp the blade as it fell from her hand, and jammed the pommel of the blade into the vampire’s sternum with a bone crunching force, earning a grunt from the dark haired woman.

Quickly, she took a step back, her eyes descending into a bloody red as they widened in fear. “What the **** are you?” she whispered as she turned to flee, shoving her way through the crowded bar with Starla hot on her heels. The blade was tucked neatly against her leg, overlooked by most of the crowd in favor of the bartender shouting after her about her tab. “I’ll be right back!” she returned over her shoulder as she pushed through the front door after Aerolyn. She wasn’t two steps outside, her sneakers crunching through the snow when the vampire’s weight slammed into her side, sending her staggering as she fought to keep her footing as she stumbled into the shadows of an alley.

An animal growl rumbled through the darkness as the vampire advanced on her again, only this time, Starla was prepared. She lifted her blade and gave it a swing, the way her body trembled in anticipation, the raw power that pumped through her, it had to be the adrenaline that made everything feel so… natural. She felt like she was built for this, like this blade was a part of who she was, just as much as her hands, or her own mind. Those mesmerizing nails had taken on a much more lethal quality in the light of the woman’s reality, and she could see the deadly potential in them as they flashed out at her, threatening to tear open her throat.

Starla’s body reacted, the blade lifting in front of her and catching the nails with a shower of sparks that cast a white light in the darkness of the alley. She hissed with the impact and dropped back, Aerolyn taking another swing with her other hand, this one catching the blonde in the side. Her blood splashed hot against the snow, a bright red against the virgin white as she gasped in pain, the touch far more painful than the gashes themselves. She shouldered forward, and caught Aerolyn with a blow to her chest, crushing the already broken ribs with a howl of pain as her reward. She pushed onward, slashing out at the woman and catching her neck with the very tip of her blade, mostly missing but leaving behind a shallow cut that could have severed her jugular if she had taken another half step.

“Unreal. This is ******* unreal. There’s no way you can fight me. What the hell are you? Where did you come from?” The vampire pressed a hand to her bleeding neck, though where blood should have dripped from her pale skin, a shadowy, smoky sort of substance floated from a thin black line in her flesh. Small splashes of the insubstantial, inky substance clung to the air, like it had fallen on some invisible object, some thing outside of reality suspending it in the atmosphere.

I could ask you the same thing… what the **** have I fallen into?

Starla felt her fingers tighten their grip on the blade, her knuckles turning white as her hands trembled. The weapon rattled in her grasp as the vampire stood, passing a hand through her dark, ebony strands. She took a slow, even breath before she let her lips twist in a knowing smirk. “No matter. It’s just a matter of time before I can take what’s rightly mine, and we both know it, Starla. You would be doing us both a favor by giving in. Think of all the struggle you’ll save yourself; of all the struggle you’ll be saving me. I swear, I’ll reward you for coming willingly. If you resist any longer, however… well…”

The vampire’s figure flickered for a moment, her figure there, and then gone and back faster than Starla could blink. A moment later, three of the same woman stood in front of her. Three vampires, with three weapons. Startled, the blonde stepped back, retreating as she lifted her blade. One was enough… three?

Slow down. Think. What does she not want you to see?

She watched as all three moved in unison, the three sets of feet crunching in the snow as they closed on the human, her head snapping from figure to figure as she prepared for an attack.

What are you missing?

The first blade lashed out, and she moved to block the blow. Her blade passed through the apparition and she felt steel bite into her side. She bit back a yelp as she felt her blood splash across her abdomen and seep into her jeans. She danced back, putting distance between them as the trio of vampires began to dance, weaving in and out of one another, doing their best to keep the real one among them hidden. Pain radiated through her side as her blood poured down her side, the white fabric of her jeans stained red down the entire length of her right leg. She bit her lip, worrying over the flesh as she continued to move back, each step a fresh agony as she watched the triplets, each of them moving with an unnatural grace. There was no way she could tell which was the vampire and which were the visions, was there?

She kept her blade up, and waited, letting the trio close on her. The first blade lashed out at her, and she ignored the strike. The blade passed through her, without harming her. The second came at her faster, harder, the intent to kill more apparent in the wielder’s eyes. She grit her teeth and rushed forward, knocking the blade aside and slashing at the vampire’s torso, catching her throat. Blood splashed across the street as she reached for her neck and screeched in pain, her blade flashing through the air wildly as the two apparitions vanished.

Starla’s lips curled in a smug smirk as she watched the vampire flail her weapon wildly, keeping her at her distance. “Not so hot now, are you?” Aerolyn snarled, and rushed forward again, lashing out with her blade. Starla deflected again, pushing the blade aside and striking the woman’s ribs with an open palmed strike. She felt the bone crack beneath her skin and earned a low, pained grunt from the vampire as she backed off again, one hand moving to hold her injured ribs. “******* ****… I’m about finished playing with you.” She grimaced, the pain etched into every line in her face as she focused. She drew her weapon to the ready and sank into a defensive stance, her face the very image of concentration. She was preparing herself for something, and Starla could feel the power radiating from her. She needed to do something quickly, or this was going to be it for her.

She shifted her weight and watched the woman, looking for a hole in her stance. When she shifted, the tight fit of her jeans stretched across the pistol she’d tucked into the waistband of her pants earlier that night. After seeing this face following her through the night the past month… the girls had called her paranoid, but they could see in each of their faces they were more relieved than skeptical. She reached back and pulled the firearm free. She lifted the weapon and took aim.

As of yet, she was unpracticed. She doubted she could hit a barn with a bullet, but it was sure to break the woman’s concentration and dispel whatever power she was gathering. Taking her time, Starla levelled the weapon on her opponent and slowly squeezed the trigger. The pistol barked and a flash left the muzzle. The bullet struck the woman’s face, tearing through the meat of her cheek and glancing off her teeth, the round itself spinning into the darkness to slam into the bricks, a stony dust fluttering to the earth as it thunked into the wall. That was all she had time to do. Aerolyn rushed forward, and as she moved, her entire form twisted, darkness consuming portions of her body, twisting her features, her limbs taking on some otherworldly grotesque shape as they twisted and pulled, her entire body some kind of beastly… thing. The blonde lifted her blade, but the little sword wasn’t enough to keep the beast at bay.

The last thing she saw was Aerolyn’s face, twisted in rage as she screeched, glossy lips parted and fangs bared, long strings of saliva dripping from the ivory spikes to the snow at her feet. The pain blinded her, and the entire world spun into nothing. She felt a hard impact that jarred her so roughly that she felt like every bone in her body was broken. A blinding pain ripped through her throat and she thought for sure that she was finished. She watched the snow by her face as it splashed red, gush after gush of crimson washing over the white, virgin powder until a series of pops barked into the night, breaking through the snarling of the beast that dominated her world.

She lay motionless in the snow, pain radiating through every part of her and everything she could see covered in her blood. So much blood… so much blood…

I can’t still be alive… I can’t be alive, missing this much blood… I can’t be conscious. None of this can be real. Vampires aren’t a thing… what’s happening to me? This can’t be it…

She tried to turn her head, and only managed to make the searing pain in her throat blind her with agony, her entire world went white, her fists clenching so tight she could feel her nails digging into her flesh. She tried to speak, and the pain increased again, a gurgling, throaty sound all she could manage as she felt someone kneel at her side. She felt a naked palm press to her neck, and turned her startled, golden eyes to the sky, and caught sight of a wave of copper hair.

It can’t be Cherri…

Everything swam and she shut her eyes against the pain. So much pain. Everything spun wildly, dizzyingly driving her down into the darkness as she fought with every inch of her strength to remain conscious. The touch to her throat was pleasant. Warm, even against the gush of her own blood. Hot, even. She could immediately feel a difference in the wound, could feel herself able to move, to just ever so slightly tip her head to just one side. Her eyes searched for the face of her savior, and found someone she vaguely recognized.

No… not Cherri.

A part of her was relieved. She didn’t think the girl could survive something like what had just happened to her. She still didn’t comprehend how she was still alive. She swallowed thickly, the pain of raw, exposed flesh burning through her throat as she tried to speak again. The sound was still a quiet gurgle, though she could control little of what it sounded like, closer to words than she had been a moment ago. “Sit still. Seriously girl, are you trying to get yourself killed? Just calm down.” The hand on her throat held her down, and she found it, honestly, in her best interest to listen to the voice. She sighed, or tried to, and that small motion wracked her entire body with pain. She grimaced, and closed her eyes to wait.

I can’t ever let this happen again… everything hurts… it hurts so bad…

She lost track of time, and might have fallen asleep there in the snow if she hadn’t been so filled with agony, every inch of her in excruciating pain. If it was possible, she would have said that her hair hurt. Her fingernails. She was certain, now, that every last one of her freckles cried out in agony, her entire face a flame of pain. She squeezed her eyes shut tight as she fought against the pain, before it was finally gone, the agony leaving her in a wave that radiated from that gentle touch, that palm sending an energy into her that set the flame of her pain at ease, like a cool, gentle rain.

She opened her eyes again, and looked up at the woman above her, her eyes squinted to focus on her face against the brilliant light of the street lamp. “I know you… I know I do.” She could see her now, the long jaw, the thin lips, the pretty face dusted even heavier with freckles than her own, and that luscious, fiery hair… “You! From the tattoo shop! I’ve been ******* looking for you, *****. What the **** did you do to me?” She shot up, bolting upright and sitting up in the snow, she reached for the woman, and like that, she vanished, like she had been made of shadows and smoke. Clenching her fist, Starla slammed a punch into the snow.

“God damnit…” She gave an angry groan and took a handful of snow, throwing it angrily into the car parked nearby, the clumps of powder exploding into a shower of glittery white snow. She lifted a hand to her throat, and pressed another into her side. The wounds were gone, and she didn’t have the slightest idea of how that could possibly be. She was sure that she was dead, that everything was over…

She remembered Aerolyn, or the… the thing that Aerolyn had become… and what she had done. She’d torn her open, was… eating her… or something… something like that. She pushed her face into her hands and bit back tears of frustration and confusion, she swallowed back a sob of rage and sat there in the bloodstained snow, her head in her hands as she collected herself.

Maybe I’m dead. Maybe I’ve been dead all along.
That girl is my angel, and Aerolyn…
Aerolyn…

She shook her head, banishing the vampire from her mind. She didn’t want to think about what Aerolyn was supposed to be. She didn’t want to think about any of this. She stood, and collected her pistol from the snow. Icy cold to the touch, she tucked it into her pocket, rather than against her bare skin, and turned to leave with a flash of steel in the snow caught her eye. It was the blade she’d twisted from Aerolyn’s hand. She moved to it, and stared down at the weapon where it lay amidst a splash of red in the snow.

It was certainly real, at least… I can’t deny that now. I have this.

She bent down, slender fingers delicately wrapping around the hilt of the blade and sliding it out of the ice and snow that covered the street. The steel was a superior quality, and the edge was razor sharp, even after its hard use against the steel and flesh that Aerolyn had deployed against her. She ran the heel of her palm along the length of the flat of the blade, feeling the smoothness of the steel, the grooves of the edge working with the grain of the steel. It was fine craftsmanship, and if she was being honest with herself, it was a sexy blade. She felt good holding the weapon in her hand. Like it belonged there, like it was a part of her.

She had neglected to snatch the sheath from her attacker, and therefor lacked an appropriate means of carrying the blade safely with her. She looked around her, and finding nothing to at least wrap the naked blade in, took a fistful of her already sliced shirt, and tore it away beneath her breasts, leaving her naked from waist to hips, her bare abdomen freezing cold as she wrapped the steel in the fine fabric of her top. Now, at least, the weapon would be clean and safe on her trek back to the penthouse.

The penthouse.
The girls.

Her hot pink Chuck Taylors kicked up snow as she wheeled about and ran for the nearest station. The girls were sitting ducks. Not one of them had even the slightest idea how to fight something like this…

What the **** am I thinking?
I have no idea how to fight something like this… and look at me…

She stopped, and stared at herself in the glass window of a shop. Long, golden blonde hair whipped about her head in the wind, her bangs stuck to her brow as the sweat froze to her flesh. Her freckles were prominent against the pale skin, the cold and, she was certain, the lack of blood draining the color from her face. She didn’t look like any kind of fighter, standing there in the snow in half a shirt and a bloody pair of jeans. She’d gotten her *** handed to her, she’d nearly died. Whoever that girl was, she’d saved her life twice now. Once, with that tattoo, and the second time with…

With what?
Magic?
Medicine?
What did she do to me? What has she already done to me? What am I?

Was she even human anymore? Was she anything? Did they even have a name for what she had become? She dropped her eyes to her hands, one gripping the blade so tight her knuckles were white, the other slowly opening and closing into a fist. She wasn’t used to this deep, philosophical ****. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t a thinker, not outside of the games. In the real world, she was just… Starla.

What does that even mean?

She shook her head and took a long, slow breath before she exhaled again, a thin stream of white steam leaving her lips. It was getting colder. She checked her watch and frowned. She could catch the next train back to the Wickbridge station from Bullwood, which wasn’t far, but what if she didn’t? What if, instead, she walked back to the penthouse? Just took her time… maybe she could piece some of this together before she had to face the girls. They were safe for now, surely. That girl had really done a number on Aerolyn, it was obvious, or that thing wouldn’t ever have left without dragging her along like some victim in a horror movie.

No, they were all safe for a little while. At least for the rest of the night. She could feel that much. She glanced to the street that led back to Bullwood, and then let her head turn the other direction, toward the bridge into Wickbridge. She was almost there, at the south end of Gullsborough. It wouldn’t be a terrible walk, maybe two hours and she would be home before it was too late. She reached for her phone, digging into the seat pocket of her jeans and fishing it free. The screen was cracked, a spider-web of deep, broken glass spanning the phone. At least, as she tapped at the screen she found, it still worked. She unlocked the phone and tapped out a message to Hinata.

COMPOSED TEXT
TO: HINATA MYAMOTO

Hey girl, just letting you ladies
know I’m going to be late getting
in tonight. Don’t worry, I’m on
my way in right now. You girls
get your beauty sleep. I’ll be
along in another hour or two.
Just going to walk. Don’t worry,
I have the gun with me. I’ll
be safe. Love love. –Star

Hopefully, that would put them at ease, and she could slip in unnoticed. If they saw the way she looked… hell, she freaked herself out. This wasn’t what she had in mind when she’d gone walking. She just wanted some exercise, some fresh air, and some time alone. Three things she needed to get through the day to day, and the ladies knew that. Getting eaten alive, though? No, no that was nowhere on her list. She touched her throat and she shivered violently, just thinking about it.

I’m going to be stronger than that. I’m going to be better than that.
Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to the best dojo I can find, and I’m going to learn how to use this damn thing.

She tightened her grip on the blade in her hand and made her decision final. She turned away from the street back to Bullwood and headed for the bridge. It was icy cold here, it was going to be bitter on that crossing. Water always made the cold that much worse. She folded her arms over her bare abdomen and leaned against the wind, her hand still clutching the blade tightly. As she walked, she found herself drifting back to that woman, the mystery girl that had appeared almost out of nowhere to pull her *** out of the fire. How had she known to be there? Was she watching her, too, just like Aerolyn had been? She subtly lifted her head to look over her shoulder, her golden eyes flicking over the street and finding nothing, not a shred of evidence that anyone was following her.

Though, she could hardly trust her own judgement. There was no telling how long either of them had been following her before tonight. Or how often. She had been sure she had seen Aerolyn dozens of times, all over the city, but now she couldn’t be sure how many of those times had been actual sightings of her, or the vampire playing tricks on her mind. She seemed to be infinitely fond of toying with her, of messing with her head and confusing her to a point she was clearly beginning to doubt herself. It bothered her a great deal, to know that someone could get so close to her as to meddle with her own thoughts, to actually insert herself into her life anywhere she pleased, and Star would never even know better.

That, of everything, frightened her the most.

What if I’m not strong enough next time? She’s after me; after my body. I don’t know what she wants with me, but I just… she trembled, and clutched herself tighter, her nails digging into her bare skin, the pale, bloodless flesh turning red at the rake of her nails, and she trembled in fear and disgust. I can’t stand it.

She began crossing the bridge, the wind gusting hard enough to shove her into the railing, threatening to send her toppling over the edge and into the lethal, icy water below. She’d cheated death once tonight, she doubted she would survive a second visit. Especially without her guardian angel. She kept herself low, her hand never leaving the railing as she worked her way across the bridge. Halfway across the river, a frightening gust picked up and nearly ripped the blade from her hands, the river swelling beneath her to reach out for it. In that moment, fear gripped her so tightly that she felt her heart in her throat. Aerolyn was coming after her again, after her blade. She’d stolen it, and now the vampire wanted it back.

Or is it all in my head?

Everything was going to be a struggle now. Was it real? Was it another trick? Was she just being paranoid, her imagination being overactive? She would question herself around every corner if she didn’t get a grip on herself. She clutched the blade and yanked it back to her side, ducking down and working her way across the river until she had made it safely to the other shore. “Not this time, you *****. No, this time, I’m fighting you all on my own.” She kept the blade clutched to her side, even after the river, and walked her way through the night, the streets much more populated than she would have expected for this late hour.

The whole world had taken on a new light, every face she looked into was a possible, potential enemy. Another agent of Aerolyn’s or, worse yet, someone like Aerolyn, who had seen her and would also want to take her for their own. What if there were more like her? What if there were dozens? Hundreds of them? How would she keep herself safe from so many? As she clutched the blade to her chest, she knew the answer was right there. This weapon would be the key to her salvation, the thing that would unlock her potential, that would show her the way to her destiny.

She was in Wickbridge now, and only had to pass through the greater part of the district to make her way to the south side, still several blocks away. Between her destination and where she stood were dozens of shops, homes, businesses of various kinds, all nestled neatly in rows that lined the sparsely populated streets. Here or there, she spotted a fellow pedestrian, or a car would pass through from time to time. She flashed a smile to a young woman that she caught staring, and the girl turned, and hurried away from her and down an alley. The people here were so strange…

As she approached the next corner, she crossed the mouth of an alley that, for what she was certain was her imagination running away from her, gave off an evil, repulsive aura that made her want nothing more than to cross the street. She grit her teeth and settled in for the test of her will.

This is the first step. If I step aside now, then there’s no way I will ever be strong enough to take her out. I have to do this.

She pushed onward, and stepped confidently past the mouth of the alley. She was clear, and she felt relief wash over her as a smile broke out across her face. She grinned, and threw her head back with a laugh of relief. “See, Star? You’re just going to have to fight through-” she was cut short as a hand snapped down over her mouth, muffling her scream of surprise and yanking her back with enough force to lift her feet off the ground. She swung her leg back, and an elbow that connected with a firm chest that felt more brick than flesh. She grit her teeth against the rough callous of the hand that gripped her tightly and she fought to keep herself calm.

I’m not unprepared this time. I know what I need to do.

The figure holding her pressed a stubbled cheek to her soft face, his breath smelled metallic and sweet, like blood and alcohol. He chuckled, the sound a gravelly cruelty against her ears as his arms tightened around her. “What’s a sweet young thing like you doing walking the streets at night all alone? So juicy, it’s a surprise you aren’t half empty as you are.” The man growled a chuckle and pressed a thin knife to her throat. “Shut up, and you’ll live to feel the pleasure of what’s about to happen to you. Squeal, and I’ll stick you like the pig you are.” She made to fall limp, her body relaxed as she made to give in to the man’s will. He sneered, the pull of his lips filling the air with the scent of his breath again.

“Such a weak little *****, broken so easy. You should be ashamed.” He moved his hand from her mouth and gripped her shoulders, turning her around. As he did, she whipped the torn fabric of her shirt from the blade and thrust it upward into the man’s torso, the blade rammed between them in a nearly vertical stab. The weapon cut through him like he was made of butter. Blood gushed over her hand as the long sword pierced his heart and thrust between his ribs through the top of his chest. His eyes went wide and he froze in pain and shock. She leaned forward and licked her glossy lips. “Such a weak little *****…” she hissed, her lips twisted in a sneer of her own as she twisted the blade, shredding his heart with the motion and his body instantly falling limp on the weapon, slumping to his knees as she yanked the blade from his torso, “broken so easy. You should be ashamed.”

She lifted her foot and shoved her heel into his chest, sending the man falling back into the darkness of the alley. When he hit the asphalt, he burst into ash, his remains drifting in the cold, bitter wind. She frowned, and watched as the last of the bone colored flakes blew away and she ran the blade over the tattered piece of cloth she was using as a makeshift sheath.

That was… too easy… and I… just… I just killed someone. I should be freaking out. Why am I not freaking out?

The answer was simple. If she hadn’t killed that prick, he would have killed her. That much was so clear, it hurt. She clutched the weapon tightly as she wrapped it again, then shoved her hand into her loose, silky hair as she leaned her back against the cold bricks. She breathed steadily, calming the thumping of her heart as she fought to keep herself sane.

This is too much.
It’s all too much.
I need to go home. I need to get out of here.

You need to run, little girl. I’ve gotten the taste, now. I won’t lose you again.

With a start, Starla rushed out of the alley and walked in a brisk, stiff gate all the way back to the hotel, not so much as glancing the direction of any of the other pedestrians, and avoiding anything that gave her the slightest inkling that something might be off. She felt like a rabbit, frightened, terrified as she scurried through the snow laden streets, rushing for the safety of her makeshift home. When she finally stepped off the elevator, turning and slamming the security door shut, she locked each of the three bolts and backed away from the door, until she bumped into the arm of the couch and fell back over the arm and into the seat.

She lay there on her back, clothes shredded and bloody, a new blade thudding into the floor at her side, and her heart in her throat for what felt like another lifetime until the skyline outside slowly began to turn a pale blue. Dawn. Finally.

She swallowed again, trying to push her heart back down into the place that it belonged as she shifted on the couch, her naked abdomen sticking to the leather, reminding her that she needed to do something about her appearance. She stood, and grabbed the blade from the floor, tucking it beneath her arm as she rushed into the safety of her bedroom, locking the door behind her and stuffing the blade beneath her pillow. She frantically pawed through her clothes, collecting a suitable pair of panties and a nice large, comfortable shirt that fell down just above her knees. She stripped, leaving every inch of her bare skin naked to the chill in her unused room as she stuffed the bloody clothes into a duffel bag and shoved it under the bed.

Quickly, she collected the few pieces of clothing she’d found, and carried them into the adjacent bathroom with her, and dropped them onto the huge, spacious counter by the sink and stepped into the shower without breaking stride. She would soon find that scrubbing blood away from such light, platinum gold hair wasn’t quite so easy as one might think. She spent an hour scrubbing and washing at her hair, going through several different bottles of shampoos, each with a different formula for something or another, she couldn’t be bothered to read each of the labels. One of them had to get the red tinge out of the tips of her hair, the taint off of her now bright pink skin. She scrubbed madly, ready to take bleach to her hair, of all the things, to rid herself of the remnants of the blood when, finally, one last bottle of shampoo made the remains vanish, her hair its original golden blonde once again.

She smiled giddily and finally stepped out of the shower, raw and clean as the day she was born, her hands passing over her form as she dried with a soft, plush towel and threw on the clothes she’d brought along. Finally, she unlocked her door and moved back to her bed. She eyed it like she might have eyed a lover, the lust she felt for that soft, feathery light mattress almost carnal as she pressed her knees into its embrace. She let herself fall face first into the mattress, her body making a loud flop against the bed as she sank into what had to be the most comfortable bed she had ever laid in, her entire body so comfortable she didn’t dare move for so much as tugging the shirt down her frame, leaving it hiked up to her hips. She gave a low groan of relaxation and let her eyes finally drift shut, the darkness settling over what bits of light shone through her window when there was a loud knock at her door.

She groaned again, this time in frustration as she felt near to tears of exhaustion. She lifted a hand and waved it lazily in the air. “Come in…” she groaned, and was answered with a turn of the knob, the footsteps gliding across the carpet a whisper as the intruder made their way to the bedside. “If you’re here to kill me, just do it. I’m too tired to fight you.”

“Kill you? Star, I wouldn’t kill you with a gun to my head, now shut up that nonsense and come here. I know you just got in and want your sleep, but I’ve got something I need you to hear.” She knew Cherri’s voice anywhere. Sweet, sweet Cherri. She would probably feel guilty when she woke up, if she just reached up now and grabbed the *****’s chin and twisted with everything she had. Probably. Right now, that delightful crunch would probably be sweet music to her ears. Instead, the exhausted blonde rolled over onto her back, using all the energy she could muster to look up at the tall, pale woman above her and threw her forearm over her brow to shield her eyes from the intruding light of the dawn. “What do you want, Cherri? Can this not wait a few hours, until I’ve at least had some kind of a nap and some coffee?”

When the redhead shook her head, she laid her pale palm across Star’s exposed, tanned abdomen, the contrast between their skin tones would have been startling, if she hadn’t spent so much time with the woman since she’d become a member of the team. She smiled at the affection, and let her attitude melt just a little as she gave a sigh. “Sorry. I’m just very, very tired. Of course it’s important, and you mean a lot to me, Cherri. You all do. Go ahead, and I’ll do my best to listen.”

She really did try to keep to her word. She knit her brows in concentration, drawing her arm away from her face and focusing her golden eyes on the slender woman, her hand moving to rest on her arm, to be sure she was still awake, feeling her and hearing her, and not drifting back into sleep, or into some kind of nightmare. Though, the more she listened, the more she felt like she was in a nightmare.

“Last night, I was up late, waiting for you. I would say it wasn’t maybe a few hours ago, I got an email. It so didn’t look legit, so I ignored it, and kept playing Command and Conquer. You know, I like the old ones. Anyway, I was playing, and this email, it kept sending itself into my inbox, so I deleted them all. Every copy. Well, another copy opened itself, and filled up my screen. Everything else just kind of closed. I thought it was just some stupid virus I might’ve picked up somewhere, but… well… it wasn’t just a virus meant for anyone, Star. The email was meant to be seen. By one of us.”

If the redhead could have gotten any paler while she spoke, she did. She looked like a ghost, and gave a silent shudder as she moved to squeeze Star’s hand. “Star, babe, I think someone is after you, and they’re going to come through us to do it. I wrote down the email real fast, before… before…” she swallowed, and shook her head, blinking back tears as she pushed a piece of paper into the blonde’s hand.

Darkstar, and friend Cherribomb.

My friends call me Aerolyn. You can call me SavageBlood. I know where you are now, Darkstar, and I know where you’re going to be. I will know any time you log on, any time you turn on your unit, any time one of your friends turns on their unit. I know, Darkstar, and I know the truth. You know what I mean.

Watch your back. All of you, watch your backs.
SavageBlood

Cherri shook her head and lifted her hand to her mouth, teeth biting into her pale thumb as she steeled herself. “Then it just… it… my computer, Star. It’s done. Burned itself inside out and caught the table on fire. We had the fire department up here for an hour trying to figure it out. The most they could tell, the computer overclocked itself until it burned a hole through the table, Star. Through the table. What am I supposed to do now?”

The redhead sobbed loudly, and the sound made the blonde’s head throb. She leaned up, and put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly as she fought to swallow her fear, to act as natural as she could. “It’s okay babe, shh. It’s okay. We’ll get you a new deck. A better one. And we’ll all beef up our security. I’ll get Hinata on it today, as soon as I’m awake, okay? Right now, I need sleep, if I’m going to be doing anything. I’m so sore after last night, you just don’t even know…” Cherri nodded, and returned her hug, squeezing her tightly, forcing Starla to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pain. When she released her, she breathed a sigh of relief and put on a smile, lifting her hand to the woman’s pale face. “Buck up, kid. You got your first bit of hate mail. It’s an honor. Especially from someone with that kind of hacking skill.” She smiled, and kissed her cheek.

“Now, let me get some sleep. I promise, I won’t be long. If Hinata is up before me, and finished with her yoga, not before, Cherri, then you can tell her that the antivirus is an order, and I want her working on it asap. Got it?” The redhead nodded quickly, and they both smiled. “Good. Now get your *** out of my bed so I can sleep. You’re distracting me.” She swatted the woman’s backside as she fled from the bed, and smirked at her when she paused at the door. She parted without another word, leaving Star to curl into the sheets, worried now more than she had been all night.

I’m going to have to kill this *****.
I’m going to have to kill her, and to do that, I’m going to have to somehow find a way to get some sleep.

She lay there as the sun rose into the sky, the cityscape turning a pale, white color as she stared at it emptily, begging for sleep to take her. She wasn’t ready for the day.

[Starla]

Sleep never came. What she was living in that moment, staring at the light outside as it began to glare through her window, she knew that if she got up to shut the blinds, that she wasn’t going back to the bed. She exhaled, and gave an angry growl with it as she finally pushed herself onto her knees, tugging the hem of her shirt down over her thighs. She stepped from the comfort of her bed, feet padding noisily across the floor as she aimlessly swiped her hand across the window, flipping the blinds shut. She turned back to the bed, a quiet whimper leaving her throat as she debated strongly on crawling back into the soft embrace of her mattress when she heard the voices in the kitchen. She would need to be there for this.

She gave a loud, agitated huff and lifted her hands to her hair, drawing her damp, golden strands in a bunch at the base of her skull and tying them in a loose tail, keeping them collected neatly and out of her face as she pushed her way through the door, the cool air of the living room hitting her bare, tanned legs like a brick wall. Immediately, she felt her damp flesh react, goosebumps rising all along the satiny soft skin as he bit back a chatter of her teeth and a shiver shot down her spine. “It’s ******* cold in here… someone turn on the heat. Seriously ladies, holy hell. Are you trying to keep the snow man from melting?” She shivered again, and lifted a sleeve-covered hand to tap at the thermostat, raising the temperature significantly before she turned to see the three of them groggily zombified over their breakfasts. She moved to nudge Hinata, earning a feral, feline hiss when she reached for the little Asian’s power bar. She smirked, and kissed her cheek before she turned to where Cherri sipped idly at her smoothie.

“You ladies look half dead… and I’m the one that was out all night.” getting my *** kicked up one side of Harper Rock and down the other. I was the one getting my throat ripped out and basically dying in the middle of the streets like a dog. That ***** from the tattoo parlor again… I’ve got to find her, to find out what the **** she is, because it isn’t what I am.

She pushed her hands through her hair and finally moved to Barbie, mindlessly groaning over a mug of coffee, she looked like death itself come to visit. It was a terror to behold, the woman in the mornings, before she’d put her face on. By lunch, she would be one of the most gorgeous women she’d seen in her life, but until then, until she’d had at least a full pot of coffee in her, just breathing in her direction was like stepping right into a minefield with a handful of your best pals and their children. It was a mistake you didn’t live through. The three of them were about half lifeless this morning, where she was still full of pep and wide open, at least compared to the rest. She preened, watching as Cherri finished her smoothie, and ruffled her curls when she stepped close. She lifted a shoulder and pressed a firm kiss to Star’s cheek, her arm sliding around the tiny blonde and hugging her close. Starla’s hands lifted to gently run through her red curls before she let her arm hang loosely around her hips. “I’m sorry about your gear, Cherri. We’ll get it replaced, I promise.” She turned and kissed her cheek in return, and pulled her phone from the charger on the counter, tapping at the screen as she leaned away from the redhead, checking her bank account.