Logbook Entry Five: White Lies

Leslie was, naturally, the focus of the school for the week.

It was quickly discovered she didn’t like all the newfound attention. First came the polite ones, asking about her home in England, what the change was like, where she lived and what she was going to do here in Eagle Summit – Shan was one of those few. But according the red-haired freshman, Leslie would only answer in a monotone, refuse to speak of England, and turn the tables on the conversation by asking questions herself. And they could be quite personal – probably in an effort to shut the invasive student body up.

But by the end of the week, the welcome had worn off and Leslie was shunted to the rear of class. Clar and Remeira were mildly curious about the withdrawn girl, but both had their own issues to deal with. Namely, their responsibility in the Gang.

A series of notes left on the desk or slipped onto a tray during lunch in the cafeteria informed the newly initiated trio that they would be going through a wide variety of “tests”. Akura had explained none-too-gently that after all the hell they’d just gone through to keep Shan, Clar and Remeira alive, they had better have talents to reciprocate it.

To Clar’s express displeasure, Aeris was taking a devilish delight in the task.

When the bell rang for lunch hour, Clar, Shan and Remeira met up in the line for the cafeteria, taking a tray and sliding down to get their food. Reaching for a milk carton, Clar was the first to start the conversation. “So, what’s happening after school today?”

“I have a practice,” Shan said proudly, putting a banana on her tray. “We’ve gone through the basics, so Akura’s going to teach me some attack techniques. Do you have archery today?”

Clar shook her head, finishing off her meal with an egg salad sandwich and waiting patiently for Remeira to quit puzzling over what snack to take. “No, practices have been shifted to Thursday. What about you, Rem?”

Remeira chose a Jell-O cup and the three of them left the cramped room for the roomy grounds outside, answering in her usual cheerful tone, “Nothing for me. Mondays are frightfully boring, y’know.”

Clar motioned to a spot under a forked oak tree and the shade it provided from the meagre winter sun. No snow had fallen yet, though it was already starting on early December. “Amen to that. Maybe we’ll –“

Thunk.

Remeira and Shan burst out into laughter as Clar jumped to her feet, instantly livid, the yogurt cup wobbling once on her head before falling to the ground. Unfortunately, the damage was done, the blueberry goop all over her bright red hair. “Aeris, you idiot, get down here!”

Aeris’ grin loomed like the Cheshire Cat’s from the leaves, wicked and definitely not innocent in the least. “Evasion skills, zero.”

“Get lost, you -!”

“Cat got your tongue?”

His expression flickered and he looked at the branch he was sitting lazily on for a split second before it gave with a crunch, sending him to the ground in a storm of leaves. Clar crossed her arms in grudging admiration. “Thanks, Solan.”

“Anytime,” the white-haired senior replied, stepping out from behind the trunk, tucking a sharp blade into his pocket. Though it was blatantly against the rules, there was a reason for Skye to be carrying a knife, and he didn’t exactly wave it under the principle’s nose during school hours. Aeris picked himself up off the ground, cursing under his breath and brushing leaves off himself. “Shan, you’re skipping practice today.”

“Why?” she asked, instantly sobered. Remeira and Clar looked surprised as well. Noticeably, none of them contradicted the white-haired teen.

“Meeting after school.” He shrugged. “Akura’s place.” Then he turned and left.

Remeira, Shan, Aeris and Clar stared after him, thoughts alike.

The guy’s really too blunt.

________________________________________________________________

Lunch passed as Aeris bid farewell, luckily before Clar recollected herself enough to launch a counter-attack on the cocky black-haired teen. The afternoon was surprisingly quiet, partly because none of them had history class and partly because they were all in their own thoughts about the meeting after school.

Remeira and Shan almost beat Clar to the Volkswagen as soon as the final bell rang. Getting inside without another word, Clar turned the ignition and glided out of the lot (her driving skills had been getting better with each passing day); Remeira plugged her iPod earbuds in and Shan distracted herself from the butterflies in her belly by looking out the window. The lot was streaming with students leaving school, and crows fought with loud squawks over the fresh contents of the Dumpster outside the cafeteria, harried by a large dog sticking its snout in the unwanted scraps. Shan shuddered; the memory of the dog attack drifted across the fore of her mind, a nightmare she didn’t want to relive. Looking ahead again, she fidgeted in place until Clar finally pulled up into the driveway after an eternity of restless waiting.

Remeira was about to jump out with her usual non-grace when she saw Aeris sitting casually on the rail of the deck. Clar hid an amused smile when the white-haired teen opened the door and got out with careful agility, avoiding her usual stumble and only allowing her odd red-brown gaze to glance over again when she was already at the steps. By contrast, Shan nearly fell flat on her face and didn’t care a whit, either because she hadn’t seen Aeris or wasn’t as impressed by the senior as her older, sisterlike roommate. In any case, the rough reprimand from the screen door stopped her in her tracks. For a moment.

“Watch it, you’re going to break something at that rate.”

“Akkie!” Shan hared up the steps and hugged the dark-haired senior around the middle. Clar was the last to get out, snickering behind her hand as she watched “Akkie” shoving Shan away with a bad-tempered expression, locking her car and leaning on the hood as she crossed her arms. A moment later, the mysterious messenger Solan joined her, observing the undeterred redhead and Remeira’s advance to Aeris’ side. “Girls,” he muttered under his breath.

“What about them?” Clar asked, still fighting to avoid laughing out loud. He looked at her blankly. “You really try too hard. I doubt we notice half the stuff you show off.”

Clar had to agree to that, and she did. Remeira looked around with irritation. “What’re you laughing at?”

She didn’t get her answer, however. Akura had managed to detach himself at last and vaulted over the deck rail. “C’mon, I hate wasting time. Backyard, all of you.”

“I love how you order me around in my own house,” Clar told him sarcastically, walking to the small space behind the flat. It was fenced high enough intruding eyes didn’t look inside, but that didn’t seem to appease Shan; she glanced around uneasily, hands in her pockets. When Clar, Shan and Remeira were spread out over the grass, Akura barked out his next instructions, Solan, Aeris and Shadow leaning against the wooden fence boards to watch.

“All right, what’re each of your –“

“Hold it,” Clar interrupted. “Where’s the rest of the Gang?”

“Inside,” Akura said impatiently, but Clar jerked and glared at him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Aeris called. “We’ll make sure Dace gives everything back. Now go to your lesson like a good little schoolgirl.”

That icy look could freeze water. “Now that you’re finished, would you –“ Akura tried again, but this time Shan was the one preventing him getting a word in edgewise. “Akkie, before we start, can I have a snack? A peanut-butter roll?”

“No, you can’t.” You could practically see the steam coming off of Akura’s shoulders. “Would you focus for three seconds?”

“What about homework?” Remeira asked, yawning widely. “Or an afternoon catnap? You’re really interfering with my routine, honey.”

“Shut up, the three of you!” Akura growled. “This is more important than homework, and if you keep irritating me, I’ll put you to sleep for good!”

Clar, Shan and Remeira looked at him. He glared right back.

Solan cleared his throat.

“Now, for the last time,” Akura finally growled, arms folded across his chest as he looked down on all three (even Remeira, who was remarkably close to his height compared to the sisters). “What’s your strongest skill?”

The girls glanced at each other. “D’you mean deadly?” Remeira inquired, and Akura nodded once. Clar’s expression turned grim, but Remeira merely smiled. “Fencing.”

Shan and her white-haired roommate looked at Clar, who exhaled an exasperated breath. “Archery.”

Now it was Shan’s turn. But the freshman looked indecisive, scuffing her foot in the grass. Akura said nothing and the uncomfortable moment dragged on until Shan finally shrugged and muttered along with Remeira. “Fencing.”

“Talent,” Akura said clearly. “is what we’re building on. It’s quite possible that’s all that’s going to keep you alive when you’re facing the demons.” Aeris snickered, but Akura didn’t even glance back – something Clar found supremely unfair. “So you had better be good at what you say you are. We won’t be the ones that’ll be dying if you’re wrong.”

Shan scuffed the ground again.

“So we might as well get to the point. Split-spirit, get over here.” Remeira smiled deeply, but Clar and Shan were both surprised when Solan stepped forward, exchanging a brief look. Split-spirit? That’s a bit of an odd nickname…

“Show them Malvyrr.”

Solan’s expression didn’t change as he reached into his pocket where the knife he had used earlier that day was sitting. All three girls wore skeptical looks while he withdrew the small blade – except he kept on withdrawing it.

The knife they had seen earlier was only four or five inches long – Solan kept pulling the blade from his pocket until the newly revealed weapon was easily three feet long. There was no way in the name of hell itself that the blade could have been that long in his pocket, but the mystery only lingered in Clar’s mind; Shan and Remeira were too busy admiring the sleek black-violent glint of the metal, so like shadows thrown in twilight. The hilt was twisted metal made from the same as the blade itself, only reformed. It must have had incredible strength behind the single piece.

It was also a full-fledged sword. Not a fencing foil. Not a long knife. A double-edged, specially crafted, true as wind and grass sword.

Remeira started approaching in an instant, and Akura grinned. Shan noticed that grin and felt a twinge of second-guessing right before he nodded to Aeris and Aeris pulled out a second blade from behind his back. It was of a similar make to Solan’s, a one-piece, except it was red and black, and had a skull and bones engraved into the reflective metal. He tossed it to Remeira and she caught it at the last moment, dipping once with the weight – it wasn’t like Solan’s katana, about two hand-spans wide and slightly shorter. Regaining her balance, she lifted it experimentally, testing her ability to manoeuvre with the unfamiliar weapon.

Then, she straightened, dropping her other hand, and grinned at Solan.

He remained totally indifferent as he lifted Malvyrr and levelled it with Remeira’s shoulders. Shan was so absorbed in the beginnings of what promised to be an excellent trial fight that Akura’s voice suddenly beside her scared the crap out of the poor girl. Akura ignored her startled jump. “She’ll lose. Aeris’ sword is too heavy.”

It seemed more of a ponderous thought than a start to a conversation, but Shan asked anyway. “How do you know?”

Akura snorted, glancing down at the little redheaded freshman with an expression tiptoeing somewhere along the lines of rolling his eyes. “Look at her, puppy. She’s all off-balance, and – what? Did I say something?” Shan had looked away quickly when he called her that, a shiver running down her back. He frowned, shrugged, and watched the practice duel.

Remeira had stalked closer in her usually taunting manner, though she hadn’t opened her mouth yet. She was observing Solan carefully. If anything, however, the white-haired senior was a tough customer; he didn’t change expression, didn’t move, only followed her movements with eyes as blank and fathomless as the sky. There was nothing to indicate his time to strike. The guy had to be good at Texas Hold ‘Em.

And then, in a flurry of motion, Remeira dove forwards, bringing Aeris’ blade around in a heavy strike from the side. Akura made a noise of approval in his throat, and Shan leaned ahead, trying to see what happened next – but the next thing any of them knew, Remeira was lying flat on her back in the grass!

She sprang up with a gymnast’s grace and brought the blade over her head, following up quickly. This time, Shan watched Solan instead, saw him crouch slightly, flicking his wrist – and held off Remeira’s attack with nothing more powerful than that wrist, sliding Malvyrr down Aeris’ sword’s length and nicking her hand. It happened in no more time than the blink of an eye, but Remeira cursed and drew back quickly, shaking her hand out as if to fling the pain away. Akura stiffened slightly beside the freshman, but she didn’t pay much attention until he began to speak dryly to the white-haired young woman. “How do you expect to fight if you have no tolerance to pain?”

Remeira’s eyes flicked to Akura and Shan was startled to see the sudden flash of anger in those familiar eyes. A moment later, it was a cheeky smile. “Just didn’t expect ‘sall, Gramps.”

Akura rolled his eyes again and Shan laughed into her hand. Clar had been silent throughout, but now she pointed out frostily, “You realize it’s now five ‘o clock? If we’re going to eat tonight and get all the requisite ordinary life taken care of, I suggest we start now.”

Aeris and Solan looked at her. “Say what?”

“Food, laundry, homework – life?” Clar looked at them disbelievingly. Akura was silent, and Shan was joined by Remeira in laughing. Aeris shrugged. “Order a pizza?” he suggested, somewhat hopefully. Solan nodded.

Clar snorted and walked right around into the house. Remeira followed, still sniggering, and Shan looked at Akura apologetically before bounding after them. There was a strange look on Akura’s face as he watched her, and then he, too, followed. Aeris and Solan exchanged a look and shrugged, falling into step.

“Clar?” Remeira poked her head into the kitchen. “Were you serious about the cooking?”

“Yes, I am!” Clar snapped. She was rummaging through a cupboard, finally withdrawing a frying pan. Putting it on the stove, she opened the fridge and snatched the butter, closing the door with unnecessary force. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not really,” Remeira said amiably, walking in and sitting in the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, watching Clar put some of the butter in the pan and turn the oven up. She returned to search for vegetables and then hunt for a cutting board. “It’s just, y’know, your experiments tend to turn into mistakes.”

“This whole thing was a mistake,” Clar fumed under her breath, picking up a wide knife and looking at the assorted zucchini, peppers and celery with murderous intent. Remeira slipped off and put a hand gently over Clar’s, taking the knife. “Calm down. You’re wound up. Why?”

“Why? Are you seriously asking me that?” She reluctantly drew back, letting her roommate take the knife and begin to methodically slice the food up. “I just… I’m having second-thoughts.”

“A little late for that, isn’t it?” Remeira pointed out, muting the usual cheerfulness in her voice. “We’re in deep, we might as well keep swimming.”

“But can we honestly handle this?” Clar stared at the flash of the blade in Remeira’s dark hand. “Shan’s just a freshman. She can’t fight, she shouldn’t have to!”

“If you want to look at it that way…” Remeira walked over to the stove and spread the melted butter around, tipping the board of vegetables in with a satisfying sizzle. “None of us should have to. But do you expect to know about all of this and just lie back? Just ignore it all? That isn’t your style, girl, and it isn’t hers, either.”

“I know!” The frustration was evident in Clar’s tone, as well as defeat. Remeira pulled a spatula out of a drawer and pushed the frying vegetables around, waiting patiently for the redhead to sort out her thoughts. Finally, she added, “But I wish we could.”

“Keep that in mind the next time you see a shooting star. For now, let’s just get through the talents and tests –“

“Hey, Clar?” Two heads poked in, one considerably higher than the other. Akura looked at Remeira briefly, then glanced back at the tense senior. “Do you have a dog?”

Clar blinked. “Er, no. Actually, no pets allowed. Don’t get any ideas.” Akura snorted and left; they could hear his footsteps moving away, probably deliberately. The guy could be as quiet as a shadow if he wanted to. Then Clar glanced at Aeris questioningly.

He smiled innocently. “Clarissa, I smell something burning.”

Clar cursed and spun around, nearly tripping over herself to turn the oven off and lift the pan, whose contents had just started to blacken slightly, from the element. Remeira was sitting back on the counter, and Clar did not miss the way her fingers lingered on Aeris’ wrist, nor how Aeris tipped her a wink before he left into the main room. She was far too infuriatingly aware of him for that.

So when she turned around, it was with a raised eyebrow at Remeira, pan in one hand, the other on her waist.

Remeira avoided meeting Clar’s gaze, but there was a mischievous smile on her face that she always failed to hide. Clar kept on looking, and Remeira kept on staring at the floor. The silence lasted for about five minutes.

“What?” Remeira asked, in the tone of one annoyed.

“Oh, hum. Nothing. Unless you’ve decided to fraternise with the declared enemy.”

“Oh, come on, Clar, enemy, hones – hey, you’re smiling!” Remeira shook her head ruefully. “Alright, I’ll admit the guy’s a bit cocky, but hey, when are the good ones not?”

“I can name several without that irritating quality,” Clar sniffed.

“Go on.”

“Shadow, Kiryu, Akura, Solan, Kiriia…”

“All right, all right.” Remeira shrugged helplessly. “You win. So what’re you going to do about dinner? He was right, you know…” Clar looked at the pan of food and sighed heavily. “I know.”

But Remeira noticed the way she glanced at it and smiled. She said nothing, watching Clar set out plates anyway and begin to dish the food out. Stubborn girl. But she only set out three plates, and reached up to the spice cupboard, taking out a jar of small ground leaves, which she sprinkled – liberally – over one plate only.

“Clar,” Remeira said sternly. “Are you trying to poison my boyfriend?”

“If I recall, he’s not your boyfriend, and no, he won’t die. Just play along, would you?” She smiled as innocently as Remeira herself and handed her roommate one of the cloves-free dishes, walking into the main room with the other two. Remeira followed, curious and wary at the same time. Her seeking revenge was one thing. Clar exacting it was a scary concept.

The boys, Sagura, Shan and Kiriia all looked up when Clar marched in, but she handed the plate to Aeris, leaving hers on the counter as if coming back for it. “I’ll grab the rest in a moment,” she assured the somewhat disappointed crowd in her living room. She left, but Remeira was far enough on an angle to the corner to see Clar smugly rest her back against the wall and wait.

So, naturally, Remeira decided to help it along. She always did favour pranks.

Taking a bite of the less-burnt mash on her plate, Remeira pretended to watch the TV (which was currently tuned to some anime or another) and said casually, “You know, demonslayer, that food’s been spiced with pride.”

“Oh, yeah?” Aeris smirked. He was lounging on the couch, Solan taking up whatever room wasn’t occupied by the black-haired senior. Remeira grinned. “Yep. She just had to prove to you her cooking’s not that bad.”

Shan snorted into her drink and emerged, coughing, but Aeris only grinned back. “Well, for the sake of pride…” He shrugged and took a bite, which Remeira noticed was rather heavily laden with those shredded leaf-bits. She continued to smile at Aeris, who was about to make a comment about just how (good) the food was when a strange expression crossed his face. Clar happened to walk in at that moment and smiled at Aeris with a little too much warmth.

He looked at her suspiciously and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Clar folded her hands earnestly in front of her, like a child looking for approval. “Well, how is it, demonslayer?”

“At aynda oof ih is?” He stopped, then glared at her. By now the entire room was looking from Aeris to Clar. Clar cocked her head. “Tsk, tsk, poison identification… zero.”

Shan and Kiriia choked, and the redhead burst out, “Clar! You didn’t!”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. He won’t die. His mouth’ll just be numb for a few hours. We could all use a break.” She lifted the phone. “Anyone up for pizza?”

________________________________________________________________

The Gang departed quickly after the pizza arrived. There was no talk of demons and skills and death. You must keep in mind that all these people were young ones, with the exception of Akura-the-eternally-living-vampire, and still teenagers. And, like teenagers, could still talk a night away with chatter about a favourite anime and an argument about the television remote.

Aeris bid goodbye rather quickly, put in a foul mood over the little trick Clar had managed to pull off with flying colors. Sagura, Kiryu and Dace were the next to leave, after Shan had dutifully asked Dace if he had any of the house’s possessions (it was really hard to lie to a cute little girl who could use the puppy-dog eyes with lethal skill). Kiryu and Sagura were the quietest of the bunch, Clar had noticed, and usually together; Dace seemed to tag along, but more for Sagura, there was a pretty nagging feeling there. Solan, after asking Aeris to take Kiriia home, was accompanied only by Shadow long after supper had passed.

But, of course, Shadow had to call it quits, too.

“Hyaaaah.” Shadow stretched, catlike, and rose off the sofa. “Think it’s time for me to go. Thanks for supper, Clar.”

Clar got up, too, and walked with him to the door. Remeira and Shan made to follow, but Solan quickly snatched both their wrists and simply held them back on the couch, despite whispered protests.

Once out on the deck, Clar looked sheepishly around the dark street. It was well into the night, and winter hours made it even longer. “I could give you a ride, if you want.”

“Nah.” Shadow smiled and ran his hand through his hair – it was still blue from the night at the club, although he had surely washed it since then. Permanent, maybe. “It’s not that far. You should get some sleep, too, or you’ll be a zombie for Chem tomorrow.”

“Ugh, school.” Clar tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “What does the Gang do after they graduate?”

There was a long enough pause in silence that Clar glanced at Shadow. He looked taken aback, but thoughtful. “I think… we had one move away a year ago. We haven’t heard from him since.”

Clar frowned. “He just up and left? Even though…?”

“Aeris says there’s demons everywhere,” Shadow said softly, looking distantly over the road. “You just need to know how to look.”

“Isn’t the phrase “where to look”?”

“No.” He smiled. “You need to know how.” He hesitated for a moment, then he took her hand from where it had been resting on the rail between both of his. Clar looked at them for a minute, then back at Shadow, eyebrows raised. But he only leaned forward and said, very seriously: “Don’t think too much about what’s happened, Clar. Look ahead of you.” And then he kissed her.

Clar was still standing, alone on the deck, when he disappeared into the darkness.

_________________________________________________________________

The next morning Clar yawned and woke on her bed, still mostly in the clothes she’d been wearing the night before, top thrown haphazardly aside and blankets tangled in a knot around herself. She took a minute to mentally berate herself and recollected her thoughts, glancing at the alarm clock; it read 06:04. She didn’t have to get up for another hour.

But she didn’t feel like sleeping. Standing, she noticed Remeira, lying on her bed with her fingers curled over the notebook she carried around so reverently. Clar paused, half-in the act of reaching for her T-shirt from the foot of the bed, staring at that book. The last thing she’d read from it had revealed something she’d pushed to the very back of her mind.

Maybe it was time to open the closet again. Hesitantly, she rose, leaning over Remeira’s prone form, reaching out a hand slowly. But just when her fingertips brushed the cover of the notebook, Solan’s voice issued from the door and froze her in her tracks.

“Isn’t it generally rude to go through other people’s things?”

She drew back jerkily, guilty as a toddler caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Glancing at Solan, she added icily (though the effect was ruined somewhat), “Isn’t it rude to sneak up on other people?”

He shrugged. “I was bored.”

Clar made a noise in the back of her throat and sat back on her bed, looking at him narrowly. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you left like the others.”

“No. I stayed over.” He watched her levelly. “One of us have every night since the club. Did you really expect us to just go on as normal after Shan and Kiriia were attacked?”

Clar looked away rather quickly. She went still as Remeira murmured something and rolled over, then rose and walked past the emotionless senior into the hall, obviously unwilling to wake her roommate up. Solan followed her wordlessly until they reached the living room and Clar chose a place on the sofa.

She still hadn’t looked at him.

Solan sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “That wasn’t your fault, by the way.”

“It is now,” Clar answered lowly, staring at the inactive TV. “If she gets hurt again…”

“You can’t control that, so you might as well stop trying,” Solan told her bluntly. “That’s all you’ve been thinking of lately, isn’t it?”

She said nothing.

“Clar, if there’s one thing about the Gang, it’s we stick together. Shan won’t get hurt easily with us around –“

“They know, don’t they?” Clar interrupted suddenly. “Those demons. Since that night…. They know where we live, and…”

“It’s part of a reason there’s been a guard here since then.” Solan shrugged. “But nothing’s happened.”

“Nothing?” Clar asked skeptically.

“It’s only been four days, but there hasn’t been a single sign of activity. So you can relax. Concentrate on what Akura’s trying to tell you three.”

Clar leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. “Why are you awake, anyway? Usually you’re dead as a rock during school hours, nevermind six in the morning.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Solan answered, getting a brief look of surprise from Clar. “Besides,” he added, and she thought she saw a hint of a smile touch his lips. “I’m getting quite a nice view, and I’m not exactly a saint…”

Clar flushed a brilliant red, realizing now she never had gotten that T-shirt off the bed. She bolted over the couch back to the room, cursing under her breath, while Solan stayed on the couch and yawned.

But his yawn was cut short and he looked pensive again, considering something. After all, concerning the demons… white lies were safe.

_________________________________________________________________

Clar seemed to go overboard that morning, dressed in a long-sleeve sweater and black jeans after she got out of the shower and wrangled her roommate and sister out of bed. The two blearily made their way to the kitchen and mumbled a greeting to Solan before making a double-take and staring at him. Clar ignored him completely as she threw her things into her shoulderbag, hair still damp from her shower and hanging about her shoulders. She was interrupted in the slightly harried morning ritual by someone ringing the doorbell.

Shan was spreading peanut butter over a bread slice and looked up in mild interest; Remeira had taken over the shower. Solan was lying on the couch (fast asleep). Clar shrugged at Shan’s inquisitive glance and went to open the door.

“Shad -?! What happened to you? Remeira, get down here quick!”

There was the sound of water turning off and a door slamming hastily as Remeira darted down the hall. Clar was busy pulling Shadow into the house, closing the door and helping him to the couch. Shan followed, face full of fear. And it was well-justified fear.

“Solan, get off.” Clar none-too-gently pushed the white-haired senior’s legs off the sofa, nearly knocking him down with the cushions. He blinked and ran a hand through his hair, glancing from Clar – to Shadow. And his expression got grimmer as he sat up quickly.

The left side of Shadow’s face was a myriad of clawmarks, scratches in threes both shallow and deep. He said nothing while Clar pulled down the collar of his shirt and drew her breath in sharply, seeing more, especially along his neck. He’d been attacked by something, and viciously; the skin around the cuts was blossoming purple and black, indicating it had happened a few hours before.

Remeira walked in hesitantly, a towel firmly enclosed around her, hair thick and wet over her dark shoulders. “What happened to you?”

Shadow said nothing, still looking at the floor.

“Rem, get some first aid, okay?” Clar knelt in front of Shadow and lifted his chin up to look at her. He smiled thinly. “Come on, it looks like a panther had a field day with you.”

“Close.” He sighed heavily, went to run a hand through his hair, winced. He looked sideways at Solan. “It was a dog.”

Solan went rigid. “Where’s Akura?”

“Morning patrol with Kiryu. But they won’t find it, trust me. This thing… didn’t look like they normally do.”

“Like what normally does?” Clar asked, exasperated, looking from one to the other. “What happened? What are you all going on about?”

Shan was silent in the background.

Solan shook his head. “We’ll get the patrol here and we’ll explain all of it,” he answered her quietly. “It’s a bit complicated, and Akura’s our expert, in any case.”

Clar said nothing until Remeira came back with the small red box. She and Shadow both opened it and began the painful process of cleaning the numerous cuts while Remeira sat by Shan and stroked the younger girl’s hair reassuringly; the redheaded freshman was white as a sheet. Solan had already left.

It was a long wait. The time for school to start came and went, and Clar finished dressing the worst of the slashes across Shadow’s shoulder – he was shirtless now, and the extent of the damage went all the way to his waist, shallower and shallower. No one said a word, and Shan made the least noise of all, beginning to get a headache from the pain of clenching her jaw so hard.

Finally, the sound of footfalls on wood preceded three new arrivals. Solan walked in, Kiryu and Akura flanking him, and Akura immediately stiffened; Shadow was very careful to look at the opposite wall. Clar suddenly remembered the plain announcement Solan had made that Friday night… Akura’s vampirism. Of course.

“What happened?” Akura asked in a low growl.

And Shadow began to explain. Clar sat back, listening as carefully as she could while he told them in a flat tone that he had been walking along the street from Clar’s house for a good fifteen minutes after he left, heading for home. He’d turned down a street with a high stone wall along one side, sticking by the streetlights. Out of the blue he’d heard a fierce growling above him and glanced up in time to see a sizeable dog jump down from the wall in front of him.

“How big?” Kiryu interrupted.

“Huge.” Shadow shook his head. “He easily could have put both paws on my shoulders and shoved me down. And he tried.”

Shadow had bolted, seeing teeth bared. The dog followed relentlessly, chasing him all the way to one of the huge old oaks planted decades ago along Harem Street. Seeing no other choice, Shadow started to climb it, trying his hardest to get out of the dog’s reach. It had been hard on his heels, however, and managed to scratch the hell out of his right side before he’d gotten high enough. And there it waited, until dawn rolled around, finally loping off.

Clar shook her head uneasily. Some things didn’t add up. “How did you manage to outrun it for that long? Harem Street’s a block away – a dog half the size you’re saying could have caught you in that time.”

Shadow and Solan exchanged looks. “It’s… one of those talents Akura was talking about.”

Clar opened her mouth, but Remeira interrupted. “Was it just a dog, or…?”

“It sounds pretty big for a stray,” Akura said quietly. “One that’ll have evaded normal animal control. And it went straight for you, Shadow?”

“Most dogs do.” Shadow smiled wanly and spread his hands. “I tend to attract them, after all. It’s hard to miss the scent.”

Clar was at a loss for what he was talking about, but she sensed a graver factor. Apparently this dog was not a normal canine. Who, or what, then…?

“Akura, is it…?” Solan was still talking.

“Yes.”

Shadow flinched, and Remeira looked from one to the other, as lost as Clar. But Shan was shaking like a leaf. Solan’s sky-blue gaze briefly flicked to her, then back to the vampire swordsman. “Then you’ll have to take care of it. But it sounds big. I’m coming with you.”

“So am I!” Remeira declared. “And you two don’t dare keep me back. Just fill me in. What is it you keep chatting about so secretively?”

Solan and Akura looked at Remeira and seemed about to contradict her, but Shadow spoke first, his voice soft. “A werewolf. Tonight the moon was still new, only the barest sliver. But they get more powerful the closer it gets to full moon.”

There was a heavy silence in the room before Clar stood up and glared at the three boys. “It wouldn’t have been so hard to say that. Why’re you acting so damn afraid?”

“We aren’t afraid,” Akura growled. “Use your head, vixen. Werewolves aren’t the same as demons. Werewolves are contagious.”

Now Clar looked at Shadow with dawning comprehension. “Con… the bite…”

“I’m fine,” Shadow said hastily. “It was only scratches with the paws. Oddly enough.” He looked at Solan as if a sudden thought had occurred to him. “It never used its teeth once.”

“Territorial?” Remeira mused. But Clar wasn’t finished yet.

“And why’s Akura your ‘expert’? Why would this – this werewolf – be attacking in the first place?”

Akura took it upon himself to answer this one, and he did it in the same rough tone as he had delivered all his other replies. “It could have allied itself with the demons. It could be a rogue. Hell, it could have a grudge against a member of the Gang. Why it’s here isn’t the point. We’re going to stop it, whatever it’s thinking. As for me…” He looked at Shan, then back at Clar, and said dryly, “If I don’t drink human blood, what do you think keeps me alive?”

“In any case, we can’t do anything right now,” Solan interrupted Clar’s retort before she could push it past the lump in her throat, stifling a yawn. “It’s broad daylight. The wolf won’t be out in a form we can recognize, so we’ll have to wait until it starts hunting. For now, we’ll get sleep and food and get the Gang together for tonight.”

_________________________________________________________________

They didn’t go to school that day. Remeira took care of the “sick calls”, finally going upstairs to finish her shower. She didn’t come back down, commandeering the double-bedroom. Solan took the sofa and went back to sleep. Kiryu seized control of the TV remote and flicked aimlessly from channel to channel. Clar, meanwhile, pinned Akura in the kitchen. In a manner of speaking.

“Tell me about this werewolf business,” were the first words out of her mouth when she followed the swordsman into the semi-secluded room. Akura looked at her levelly. “What’s to tell?” he replied, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Do you really… feed… on them?”

“Yes.”

Clar scrutinized him.

He exhaled impatiently. “It’s not as hard as you think. Sooner or later one wanders in, and I take care of it. Those mutts can never properly coexist with humans like you. They go insane.”

“What?” Clar blinked. Akura sighed.

“There are two kinds of werewolves,” he explained quietly. “The bitten ones and the ones born that way. The ones born aren’t human, even if they look like it, and they usually have a good grip on reality. They’re also rare. The more common mongrel is the result of a born werewolf’s loss of temper… a human that got in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What… happens to them?”

“They get bitten, and the sickness passes onto them. For a short time they gain the powers of a werewolf, able to change, able to gather strength with the moon. But the sickness spreads to their brain. In a born werewolf, they can control the urge to hunt and devour flesh. In a sick one’s, they can’t. They begin small; pets, birds, runaway children. Eventually, if they live, they lose it so completely they attack everything in sight.”

“It sounds sad,” Clar said softly. When she’d heard Akura put his dinner menu so blatantly in front of her while they tried to find out why Shadow looked like mincemeat, the shock – and the wariness – and been there. But when she compared this to the Hollywood bloodsucker, she had to admit this was the lesser of two evils. “And the werewolf here…?”

“It was faint.” Akura shook his head. “I was smelling it without realizing it for a few days. But last night it became clear. There’s a sick werewolf here, and if it bites one of us, we’re done for.”

They both blinked as they heard the sudden scuffle of feet. Clar poked her head out into the living room, but there was only Solan, sleeping soundly. She returned to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe, considering. “Is there a cure?”

“Yes, but only if it’s caught early enough.” Akura shook his head again, looking preoccupied. “Get some sleep, vixen.” And then he walked out into the living room, and when Clar followed, she didn’t see him. Sighing deeply and trying to ignore the sunlight eagerly attempting the slip under the blinds, she went back to the bedroom.

“Remeira, would you open the damn door?”

There was a soft clicking noise and the knob turned, revealing Remeira’s smooth smile that was really no smile at all. She opened it further, seeing Clar and her weary expression. The redhead walked in and dropped on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “Should I even bother asking why you barricaded yourself in the bedroom?”

“Nah. It’s not something pretty, innocent vixens should know,” Remeira answered mischievously, sitting beside her roommate. “What kept you down there so long?”

“Talking with Akura.” Clar ran a hand through her hair; it was still slightly damp at the roots. “And it wasn’t promising. A werewolf, Rem? And it sounds like everyone’s going – are we honestly ready for something like that?”

“Won’t know ‘till you try!” Remeira answered cheerfully. Then she sobered, crossing her legs and looking at Clar from the mess of her pillow-tangled hair. “You’re doing it again. Stop worrying, Clar, wait and see for yourself. Think about it. You might even be a natural at all this.”

Clar laid back and sighed heavily, not replying as Remeira settled back on her own covers, closing her eyes against the clock that told her very clearly it was a time to be awake. She wouldn’t get a wink of sleep today.

At least, not with the little voice asking… do I want to be a natural?

_________________________________________________________________

Shan looked up from her bed at the sound of the door opening. She was clutching the pillow close to her, and it was stained with the tears still rolling down her cheeks; the blankets were thickly knotted around her, and she sat with her back planted against the corner the walls made. She was still shaking.

Akura looked at her for a moment, then stepped inside and closed the door behind him, His eyes were dark and his expression brooding. “You’re upset. Why?”

Shan just hid her face in the pillow again.

Since Shadow had staggered into the house, the torn feeling Shan had been harbouring deep inside seemed to swell like a flooding tide, threatening to spill out of her mouth in a series of self-condemning words. And when the bit about the werewolf was mentioned, she felt a deadpan dread that cemented itself at last as she listened outside the kitchen. Her fingers were clenched deep into the pillow’s belly as she fought off a wave of nausea. Insane, the bitten ones go insane.

She’d been bitten by that dog. Someone had come, someone had done something to the bite, and it had healed on its own in less than three days. But the dog, she remembered asking herself if it was rabid. Now it suddenly took on a new light. What if the vicious, flesh-seeking monster of her nightmares was a werewolf?

What if it had infected her?

And what if, by some sort of cruel trick, it was she who was the sick werewolf Akura smelled, if she was the one that had attacked Shadow? Would she even be aware of that act?

All at once, a cold arm embraced her shoulders and pulled her against an equally cold and hard chest. Shan had a moment to reflect it was like resting against a frozen boulder before she looked up and saw Akura looking resolutely against the opposite wall, almost like he was trying to ignore the somewhat kind action. She looked down quickly again.

“I’m not stupid, Shan.” The redhead’s eyes widened, but she continued to stare stubbornly at the hardwood slats. “You think you’re the werewolf.”

“Yes,” she whispered, trying to swallow back the sobs that threatened to convulse her body. She felt so low, so miserable. “How…?”

“How did I know? Didn’t I just tell you I’m not stupid?” Akura sighed. “I know about the dog bite. I just wonder why the hell you didn’t tell anyone else. And before you ask about that, it was easy enough to see when Clar looked more like a lost sheep than an attacking lion.”

A stifled laugh managed to wrangle its way free of Shan’s throat. The tears still coursed down her cheeks, though, hot, fiery rivers of guilt and relief at finally having someone else know everything. “But I… I must have… Shadow…”

“You have high opinion of yourself there, puppy.” A half-smile warmed Akura’s face, and he glanced back at the sudden expression of hope that had crossed her face. “I might have known because the smell hangs around you like a bad perfume, but it wasn’t you everyone’s talking about.”

Shan felt a wave of relief pass over her… but just as quickly, that relief faded. She looked back at the pillow again. Akura’s smile withdrew and he tilted her chin up with his other hand. “Jeez, puppy, you’re still crying… what’s your problem?”

“It’s just…” Shan struggled for words. Her eyes were the eyes of a lost and frightened child. “I still got bitten. I’m still a… one of them. Am I really going to go insane? And… and k-kill everyone?”

“Good luck,” Akura snorted, but Shan’s saddened gaze was still on him. He sighed inwardly. “No. You got the cure in time.”

“There’s a… cure?”

“No, I’m lying to you. What do you think?”

Dawning comprehension spread across Shan’s face. “It was you. You were the one…”

“I marked you as trouble from the start.” Akura rolled his eyes to the heavens. “You and your sister. It’s going to eventful with the redheads around.”

Shan was silent for a moment, passing the back of her hand over her wet cheeks. She glanced at Akura from the corner of her eye, then hesitated, smiling sheepishly. Akura looked at her, nonplussed. “What?”

“Akura, can I… can I give you a hug?”

He looked resolutely at the opposite wall. “Kids. Fine, but make it quick.”

Shan wrapped her thin arms around his waist and embraced him tightly, smelling the sharp, sweet scent of him. And for just the barest moment, Shan thought she felt his arms tighten around her, too.

And that was the second white lie of the day.