Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Evolution, Daiva 01
   by Nysidra
   Summary: 'Daiva' is a saga about a group of long-lived, hardy humans
that feed off the energy of others.  This is where it all begins.
   <->
   -_ Curiosity _-
   "Dante." Yeasmine lifted the hem of her dress as she stepped over a
fallen log.  Her footfall crushed the leaves, sending a dry crackle into
the cool night air.  "Dante?" She listened, a snap to her left.  She
followed the sound.
   His hand flicked out to wave her to the other side of a large rock.
   She squeezed between it and the brush behind her and was thankful to see
a foot path on the other side.  Too many more obstacles like that and her
clothes would be ruined.  "Dante?"
   "What?" He paused on the path and turned to her.
   "We ain't supposed to be out this far." She glanced over her shoulder.
The boulder between the thick stand of trees, left, over the creek.  She
could remember all that.  She checked the buttons of her jacket.
   With a shake of his head, Dante turned and continued to walk ahead.  He
had a lanky frame and a bit of a sway to his walk that he probably thought
quite masculine.
   Not wanting to go back alone, she followed.
   "You'll want to see this," he said.
   "How we going to make it back in time?  You'll get in trouble."
   He paused and took her hand.  He pointed to the smaller path.  "This
way." He winked at her and put on his best roughish grin.  "I don't care
about trouble."
   Yeasmine smiled as well.  She tightened her hand around his.  No, Dante
cared nothing about trouble at all.  She looked down to the hand that held
hers with the knowledge that this act alone mattered more to people than
how far into the woods they traveled.
   She stepped on a bit of soft ground and grimaced.  Dirt covered her
shoes.  They weren't new, but she could have worn them to school next year.
   Her father was going to beat her ass when they returned.
   "You scared?" Dante asked.
   She snapped her head back and stuck her tongue out at him.  "I ain't
scared."
   He leaned down and pecked her on the lips.
   "Get moving." She pointed ahead of him.
   He picked up the pace and they made steady progress along the trail like
two nocturnal animals, listening for other people, jumping at any
unfamiliar rustle, giggling when they bumped into each other.
   Dante grabbed her by the waist and brought her to the ground.  Eyes
wide, she stared at him waiting for a sign.
   "We're here.  Roll over and look."
   She did so, following the path of his index finger until she made out
the small firelight.  Most of the house was dark, barely visible in the
night light.  With time, it took shape in the darkness.
   "I see it." Each deep breath of cool air made her lungs sting.  She kept
her voice to a whisper.  "What's so dang special about it?"
   "This is the house Miss Alice was talking about."
   Yeasmine stood.  She squinted, trying to get a better look.  All the
upper level windows appeared shuttered, but uncovered glass windows on the
lower level.  Miss Alice was a mean old woman, and she didn't scare easily.
   Neither would she.  "You think there's ghosts in there?"
   "Don't matter.  We staying out here.  Told you I'd find it.  It's
further from all the other houses, highest on the hill.  They are going to
be building here soon.  If there are ghosts, they won't like it here no
more."
   Two steps forward.  Another.  She felt as if drawn to the house, needing
to see more.  "I want to see inside."
   Dante stood, but made no move to follow.  "No.  Hey.  This is as far as
we should go.  Miss Alice says people know better than to get near that
place.  Nothing but trouble in there."
   Yeasmine tossed a coy look over her shoulder.  The corners of her mouth
curled up and her eyes danced with laughter.  She lifted the edge of her
dress until the hem hovered above her knees.
   Dante struggled to keep his eyes on hers.  A grin like that didn't mean
good news.
   "You don't care about trouble, remember?  I said I want to see."
   "Different kind of trouble.  Serious.  Miss Alice don't scare easy,
isn't that what you always say?"
   She took long strides over to him and held out her hand.  "If we get
caught, I'll be the one in trouble, not you.  Come on."
   The adrenaline was already in her veins.  There was something special
about that house.  Like knowing when it was going to rain, or if she was
dreaming or awake, the knowing went deep.
   Dante took her hand, but she tugged him toward the house.  They
approached from the side and circled toward the back, away from the
driveway that swallowed by thick woodland.
   The property and surrounding woods were called Pine Mountain, but it was
little more than a hill.  Once owned by a logging company for years, the
owner died and it fell to the city.  Yeasmine overheard plans to put homes
in the area, but this seemed to be the only one.
   "There's a light," she nudged him and pointed.
   "I see it," he said.  He feet dragged like they were filled with bricks,
but Yeasmine got him to the window.  They rose to their toes and looked
into the room across the hall.
   Two men, old enough to have children of their own, sat to a table
playing chess.  The man at the black pieces looked like a conquistador with
his coal black hair and full beard.  Opposite him sat a man with closely
cropped dark hair and a pale complexion.  He was leaner than the
conquistador, but appeared taller.  Yeasmine sucked in her bottom lip and
held her breath.  She had never taken a fancy to grown men, but they looked
so regal, distinguished.
   The lean one moved a chess piece diagonally on the board.
   Her imagination blossomed.  Who were they?  Ghosts?  Monsters?  Bandits?
Bootleggers?  Or perhaps loggers who chose not to leave, living in
obscurity.  Why did people think the house was cursed?
   "Why did it have to be her that ...  whines like a dying engine."
   "Temporary."
   "Need to get some..."
   What were they talking about?  Ghost didn't speak.  She made the
slightest move forward.
   "When she gets back, then..."
   A brick shifted, it tumbled to the dirt with a muffled thumb, but the
two after it clattered.
   Both men looked up, but the pale, tall man stood.  Oh yes, much taller
than she guessed.
   She clearly heard the words he spoke, but they were beyond Yeasmine's
comprehension.
   ***
   Yeasmine and Dante were already scrambling away from the window and
peeling away from the house.
   "Shit." Dante's cursed low under his breath.  "Run, damn it." Stories of
evil, monsters, and savages consumed his fears.  He wished that the trouble
he feared would not catch them.
   Yeasmine pulled ahead, her skirt bunched tight in one hand.  Her long,
shapely legs carried her with the grace of a gazelle, jumping, twisting,
strafing around trees.
   As much as Dante loved to gaze upon her from the rear, getting caught
was not an option.
   "Sorry, girl." He picked up speed and sprinted past her.
   Dante had never run so hard in his life.  Though sides ached, he pushed
through the stab of pain and the burn of his muscles to run faster.  He had
no idea what those men were going to do, but he wasn't going to slow down
and find out.
   Yeasmine was resourceful.  She would find her way home.
   His pace flagged and he hugged a tree while talking heaping lungfuls of
air.  When his own heart and lungs no longer made a racket, he shut his
eyes and listened.
   Silence of night.  No screams, no muffles, no twigs snapped beneath what
should have been the sound of Yeasmine's rapid approach.  The evening
turned colder and darker.
   No insects.  No cry of animals.  The wind paused.
   Maybe she took a different route.
   He wrapped his arms tight around his shivering body.  He thought to call
out for her, but feared giving his position away.
   The breeze kicked up again, rustling the leaves on the ground and high
above.  Cold air licked at his face like a greedy phantom.  He lowered his
head, wiped the cold sweat from his brow.
   All he could do was head home.
   The walk back seemed much longer.  His legs wobbled like jelly, but he
didn't slow down.  He managed to crawl back into his window.  From his
bedroom, he went to the kitchen.
   "Boy?  That you?"
   He froze.  "Yes, Ma."
   She entered, rubbing her eyes.  Her large frame filled the door, covered
in a threadbare housecoat.  "What you doing out this late?" She looked him
up and down, vague displeasure on her face deepened to a scowl. 
"Especially this time of night.  You filthy.  Where you been?"
   "No where," he mumbled.  He poured himself a large glass of water,
finished it, poured another.
   "You been running with that..." She clenched her jaw and spoke through
her clenched teeth.  "Girl?"
   Dante shook his head.  "No, ma.  Sorry I got home late.  I was out
running, but then I got turned around.  That's all."
   "The hell you doing running?  You sick?"
   He sighed.  "It's good to get out, clear my thoughts.  That's all."
   "Get that crud off you.  Don't go running in the damn night.  Damn
fool." She shook her head and shuffled back to her room.  "Don't know what
to do with you."
   ***
   Take the beating.
   Yeasmine expected one of them to push her or tackle her to the ground.
She stopped running, paused with her hands on her knees taking in large
lungfuls of cold, dry air.
   The tall, lean brunette approached, joined shortly by a paler man,
larger build.  No sign of the conquistador, but he was out here somewhere.
   "This will go better if you remain calm," he had an aristocratic accent,
clipped, melodic.
   She nodded her head once.
   "Good.  Do you know why we were chasing you?"
   "'Cause I ain't got no one slower than me taking up the rear."
   Both of them chuckled.
   Yeasmine stood straight.  Wood and stone crunched underfoot in the dark.
That must have been the dark haired conquistador closing in.
   "Don't mind him, beautiful.  This could go a different way.  You might
try to run again."
   "Looks like you could keep up fine."
   Another round of muted laughter.  Mirth blanketed their darker
intentions.
   "Do not sell yourself short."
   She couldn't see him, didn't know where she was, didn't see a path to
take.  "Why you out here chasing me?  I didn't see nothing, didn't hear
nothing.  Ain't no reason for you to be surrounding a girl."
   Foreign language, soft, whispered between the bulkier man and the tall
one.
   The larger man nodded and sighed.
   Yeasmine rolled her eyes and made a heavy sigh of her own.  "I was just
looking, is all.  I'm sorry."
   The tall one signaled her closer.  "Do you still want to see it?"
   Yeasmine took the only path open to her, forward.  Running away again
was taken off the table when she stopped.
   "You can be a proper guest this time."
   Now that she knew the conquistador was there, she could sense his eyes
on her.  She was going to be in so much trouble.  Who was this other guy?
Which one of them owned the house?
   "Yeah, sure."
   "Ah, now that is a good choice." He took her hand.  "My name is Kevin.
This is Antonio," he said of the paler man with a constant smile.  Antonio
also appeared pleased by her decision.
   "The conquistador?"
   Kevin laughed and spoke in a different language over his shoulder.
   "Ricardo," came the quiet answer behind her.
   She startled, but managed not to flinched.  "Yeasmine," she said.
   Antonio walked a few paces ahead.  "If you're worried about getting in
trouble, we'll get you back with a cover story, if you need it."
   Trouble was inevitable.  She'd have bruises and abraisions plenty behind
her dirty shoes and torn clothes - good story or not.  Best to have a good
story for Dante.  That weasel.
   They returned to the house.  The lights were still out, all calm.  They
only went as far as a glassed-in porch.  It was pleasantly warm, cozy for a
winter's night.
   Antonio went inside and returned with four bottles of beer.
   She thumbed the neck of the bottle.  Not quite room temperature,
slightly chilled.  The furniture seemed much sturdier that she'd expect of
a house in the middle of nowhere.  Wood, woven wicker seats, large ceramic
pots overflowing with plants.
   "Nice house," she whispered.
   Kevin said, "Tell me what brought you all this way?"
   She sipped from the beer.  Didn't have much bite to it, little stronger
than the one she tried with Dante.  "This woman, Miss Alice, says it's
dangerous."
   "Curiosity." Antonio smirked and looked her up and down.  "Are you a
very curious young woman?"
   Another sip.  She knew that look as well as any other.  Kevin and Rico
had similar expressions.
   "Curiosity kills."
   Kevin nodded.  "And this house is a dangerous place."
   "Ain't scared of nothing," she hissed.
   Kevin stood and motioned toward the door.  Rico and Antonio went inside.
Kevin kneeled in front of her and pointed to her beer.  "You don't have to
be, Miss Yeasmine.  When curiosity is satisfied, it can be quite
fulfilling."
   ***
   "Yeasmine!" Dante's hands grasped at the air.  His legs tangled in the
sheets.  This would be the third time he woke with nightmares.  Earlier in
the night, he woke as the men chased him, calling his name, threatening to
beat him.
   This time Dante had managed to find her body, but people dragged him
away.
   He rolled out the bed and pulled the drapes back from the window.  The
sky was violet-blue on one end, bands of yellow and pale blue on the other.
   Throughout the day, each time he heard the creak of hinges, wind through
the trees, a rolling rock - he turned, expectant, hopeful.  He went to the
nearest window in hopes of seeing her signal.
   "That's the third time you been to that window.  If you bringing the law
here, you better tell me now."
   "No, ma.  Just looking."
   Even if she got in trouble, she would find some way to sneak out and
yell at him.
   By afternoon, he took to the front porch.  Rocking in the old chair, its
cushions released the smell of his mother's tobacco and lotion.  He would
give anything to have Yeasmine be furious with him, her mesmerizing
tricolor eyes boring holes into his soul, her fury as hot as the sun while
she called him a yellow-bellied, spineless coward.
   One day, when the world was different, he would marry that woman.
   What if she was in trouble?  Big trouble that didn't allow her to sneak
out of her house?  The kind that meant she had never come home?  Flashes of
nightmares rose then, presenting him with the worse.
   "You going to sit on your ass all day?  That kitchen ain't going to
clean itself!"
   He got to his feet and went inside.
   All that night Dante sat to his window, waiting for her appearance.
   Dante was back on the porch the next day, rocking and waiting.
   Yeasmine's father approached with a heavy gait and a deep frown.  The
man's face seemed twisted with worry and hatred.  He stopped at the steps
and removed his hat.  "Good day."
   Dante nodded.  "Good day."
   "Mister, have you seen my Yeasmine by chance?"
   "No." Dante averted his eyes, looked around to see if anyone saw them
talking.  "I was thinking maybe you told her not to come over." Hoping was
more like it.  Dante feigned disinterest while holding his breath for an
answer.
   "Hmm." The man looked down as he shuffled the loose gravel around with
the edge of his shoe.  His voice was soft, but it lost none of its latent
anger.  "I know she hangs with you.  No matter how I punish the girl, I
know she defies me.  She may have evil in her something fierce, but she is
all I got.  I want her home safe."
   "I haven't seen her." It was hard to keep his tone civil when her father
talked about her like that.  Dante knew exactly how much effort her father
put into controlling her, had soothed the aches from her beatings.
   Mister Austin stood there a while, stared at his shoes.  With a low
grunt, he turned and walked away.
   Another long evening in the window sill.  He didn't go to bed until his
eyelids turned heavy with sleep.  He was snuggled under his covers when he
heard the soft three-two tap on his window.
   Dante nearly fell from the bed getting to his window.  He pushed it open
and gave Yeasmine room to climb inside.  "I thought you--"
   Yeasmine vaulted into the bedroom.  "That I was dead?" She wore the same
dress, the same coat, both items were torn and dirty.  A line of dry blood
ran down the side of her neck.
   "Yes.  Your father was here." He looked out the window and measured the
distance from there to where she landed.  Possible, but required a really
strong arm.  Did that mean she wasn't hurt?
   "Oh?" She sat on his bed, leaned over and nestled into his pillow.  A
crumpled piece of leaf fell away from her.  There were more lines of dried
blood on her legs.  "You left me out there." Her voice was barely above a
whisper.
   He cringed.  Why wouldn't she yell at him?  "Where did you go?" He sat
on the bed next to her though he felt like he should be screaming for his
mother.  He scanned what he could see of her.  Dried blood, but no
bruising, no injuries.
   "I got caught.  No thanks to you." She fingered a hole in the tattered
jacket.
   "Listen.  I thought you were behind me."
   "Don't start with your excuses." She rolled onto her back.  "You know I
can't run faster than you, and you left me."
   "What happened?"
   "I was caught." She lifted her arm and looked over it as if it were
covered in something.  "I went back to the house.  They say I can stay, but
I want you to come with me." She narrowed her eyes and her smirk turned
predatory.  "I came back to share my good fortune with you."
   "Share what?"
   Yeasmine snatched Dante by the collar and slammed him onto his back. 
Tears streamed down her face and landed on him.  "I trusted you to be
there," she kept her voice soft, "I thought you cared about me, Dante."
   "I do!  I do!" He insisted.  "I've been worried sick."
   "You lie.  You don't care about me.  You care about other people more.
You think I'm less than human, a freak, just like everyone else."
   "Now you are the one lying." He pushed on her shoulders, when she didn't
budge, he framed her cheeks.  "I thought you were right behind me.  I
promise."
   She stared down at him, still crying, but her face had gone flat, empty.
   He turned his head to dodge the falling tears.  Dante never thought of
her as a freak, but he never went so far as to consider her normal. 
"What's the plan, Yeasmine?  I'll go with you."
   He pushed on her shoulders again, but her arms were like steel.  He
could not escape, even when he gave his best effort.  Panic set in, causing
his heart to race.  "Stop!" He gasped, but didn't feel like he got any air.
Light-headed, dizzy.  The room spun around him, and his eyes wouldn't
focus.
   He fought harder, kicked, thrashed, but all while gasping for a breath
he couldn't take.  He was dying!  His heart pounded harder, lungs itched.
Black shadows crept into his vision, and his heart and lungs gave up the
fight.
   "Thank you." She said through his fog into his darkness.  He could not
move, could not see, but he heard her voice, felt her.  "I knew you would
accept this gift."
   A heavy, low thud.  Like the distant boom of a heavy step.  He heard it
about four times before he realized it was his heart, beating slower than
it ever should.
   "You're going to be messed up for a little while."
   Her voice had a direction, Dante moved toward it, not physically, just
in his mind, finding her in mental darkness.
   "You might as well try to sleep.  I'll be here with you."
   He wanted to respond, to move something, to feel, even to breathe.  The
low roll of air or water, was that his breath?  Dante felt as if hovering
over death, empty, a great void.  Buried alive in his own flesh.
   To escape, he had to hold onto her voice.
   "You remember when I met you?  You were a scrawny thing, knees all
skinned up, hanging from that tree branch like a trapped monkey.  I saw you
when you got snagged.  Your face turned cherry red.  All that grunting and
wriggling and made it worse.
   "Truth is, I was waiting for you to fall.  I was going to laugh so hard,
but you stopped struggling and hung there.  You went limp.  A couple
seconds, then you - wham!  - pulled yourself clean up.
   "I ran over to you like I had a fire lit under me.  While I climbed that
tree, I told myself, 'if he's mean to me, I'll push him.' That was a bad
day for me, and you were going to get it.  All I needed was a reason."
   Her laugh filled him with peace.
   "I saw them moon eyes.  I knew you wouldn't be calling me any names. 
Had it bad since that day, haven't you?"
   He didn't know what caused it, but a flood of warmth washed over him,
like a touch, a physical comfort.
   "Shouldn't be long," Her voice soothed his anxious mind.  "Things will
be tough, but you will survive.  Find your focus and pull yourself up. 
When you get to the top, then I will have you as my champion."
   ***
   Dante woke with a sharp intake or breath.  Yeasmine lay beside him.  Did
he dream that he died?  What about her voice?  He could almost feel it,
like his favorite blues singer crooning in the background.
   If he hadn't been dreaming, if he wasn't now, then what happened to him?
A fiery, tingling itch bubbled under his skin, threaded through his
muscles, bounced off his bones.  It was a pain unlike anything he'd known.
A fever rose that caused his palms to sweat.  His skin felt as if it had
been set on fire and was still burning like a hot coal.
   But now?  Nothing.
   He sat up, the covers shifted and revealed the patchwork of Yeasmine's
back.  Scarred, marked, but healing.  The actual patchwork was the skin
itself, lighter or darker brown patches, some as wide as his hand.  Her
entire left leg tanned darker than the rest of her body in summer.
   He didn't miss that the fact that she was naked, head to toe.
   She rolled onto her side and rubbed his leg.  Her silence seemed alive,
thick within the room.  He imagined it as a dark, rolling cloud, promising
thunderstorms.  Her tears poured down her cheeks like rain fall on the
windows.
   For once, Dante imagined that he could see inside.  "What now?"
   She broke the thickness of the room with her voice.  "Kiss me, then run
away with me."
   He leaned down and pecked his lips to hers, his ears keen for any sound
in the house.  "How bad is it going to be?"
   "You're not in trouble unless you stay."
   "I'm with you."
   When she kissed him back love, comfort, and peace seeped to the center
of his soul, like the sensation of being taking away on a good beat.  It
flowed, filling him with the crescendo of his favorite melody.
   "Did you feel something?"
   He chuckled.  "Yeah, horny."
   She scowled.
   "Uh, yeah.  I did, I guess."
   "It's sneaky like that, but it's not the same.  It grants you power. 
I'm not sure what kind." She got out of bed and scooped her up dress.  "We
need to go.  Your mama said she was going to have your hide if you didn't
sweep up before she got home."
   He stood and dressed, but stared at Yeasmine the whole time.  "What
happened?"
   Yeasmine snatched him over.  "Follow me."
   She was already climbing out the window.  Dante didn't hesitate to
follow.  It occurred to him that he should have been doing something
different, but he pushed that notion away.
   She did not stop walking and he did not pause in following her.  She
didn't have to drag him this time.
   -_ Safe House _-
   Yeasmine opened the front door like she owned the place.  They walked
along a dark blue carpet runner to a wooden staircase.
   Dante stopped dead in his tracks.
   "Mister Rico," she extended her hand.  "This is Dante."
   Dante wanted to bolt out of the house.  He willed his legs to move, but
they remained firm.
   Another man leaned over the railing upstairs, staring down at them.  He
recognized that one too.  The tall one with the cold expression.  They way
he leaned onto the railing made the muscles in his arm bulge.
   What did he do to Yeasmine?
   Rico said.  "This is the boy you went back for?" He spoke to the
brunette man in a different language.
   Their exchange was short, but didn't seem to hint of violence or
punishment.
   "Mister Kevin," Yeasmine said.  "This is my best friend, Dante."
   "Is that a fact?" Kevin's gaze settled on Dante.
   Dante swayed on his feet.  She wanted to run away to this place?  The
place he nearly passed out trying to escape?
   "You consider her your best friend?"
   Some time in the future he was going to suffer for his, if not in the
next hour.  Dante had played this question through his head many times
before.
   "Yes, she is.  She is my best friend in the world."
   Rico and Kevin chuckled, but they didn't look upset that he claimed her.
   Kevin waved them upstairs.  "King to you, fair lady.  Leave your progeny
to me."
   Yeasmine headed upstairs and Dante followed.  "Will you teach him all
that stuff you taught me?  I told him some of it, but I didn't have much
time."
   "Yes, of course.  I will teach him." He bent to kiss her on the head. 
"Did you have any trouble?"
   "No.  I did like you said, but he has a mother who might get upset."
   Kevin rested his cheek on the top of Yeasmine's head and looked at
Dante. "You have a lot to learn about friendship, young man." Back to
Yeasmine, he said, "Don't worry about that.  You did well." He smoothed his
hand along her cheek.
   The brunette reached out for her hand and Yeasmine just blushed and
grinned.  She actually leaned into one shoulder and blushed like a little
girl.  Plenty men had been kind to her before, had been captivated by her
physical oddities, but those who tried to butter Yeasmine often suffered
her sharp-tongued fury.
   What happened in their absence?
   ***
   A petite woman frowned at Yeasmine in the hallway.  "Are you a hired
girl?"
   "No, I live here.  My name is--"
   She snorted.  "I am Miss Celica.  We don't have room here.  Soon as the
Mistress returns, you'll find that out." Celica leaned in and inspected
Yeasmine.  "He picked a curious one." She had a nasal voice.  Her coal
black hair was slicked back and pinned into a tight bun.  Her shift dress
was a soft creamy blue, but the fabric was crinkled.  "Smart using you to
get your blond friend back.  We have to be careful about our security."
   Yeasmine stepped away and blinked.  Well, it seemed there were some
people who weren't going to treat her any differently than normal.  What
she said may have been true, but that was no reason to be a bitch.  "Why am
I still here?  I wanted to go back for him."
   "You are confused?  Why would they keep an obscene exotic like you
around?" She giggled.  "For sport." Her thin laugh grated Yeasmine's nerve.
"Your new one didn't call anyone for help, did he?  The law did not lie in
wait for your return." She leaned back on the wall and shook her head.  "I
bet you the buckra stops being your friend as soon as he learn about his
new station in life." She shrugged.  "I'm telling you this as a kindness."
   Yeasmine held her breath.  Outrage formed a lump in her throat, but she
wouldn't dare breathe and let it free.  She turned away from Celica and
went into her new room.  Just because it was the truth didn't mean it
needed to be slammed in her face.
   In a way, she wanted to thank Dante.  She didn't think he would stay
with her, but he led her to this life, and she believed that a new power
flowed within her.  As soon as the dull throb of pain passed, she would be
able to enjoy her gift.  She didn't need him.  She didn't need any of them.
   Yeasmine entered her bedroom, but halted.  No one hid behind the door.
   When she turned again, she squealed with surprise.
   "Antonio!" His head full of curly, autumn-leaf-red hair glistened in the
light.
   He smirked.  His emerald colored eyes sparkled with mirth.  "I'm glad to
see you back." He was stocky and thick and almost as tall as Kevin.  In
another season, she would probably be tall enough to look him in the eye.
   Each step he made toward her caused her to take another in reverse until
her back hit the wall.
   "You're tuning me out.  You should have been able to sense me behind
you."
   "Well, I didn't.  I wasn't tuning anything out.  I was looking for you.
I knew something was wrong." She shuffled sideways until she had more room
between them.  She stumbled and hit a chair.
   He reached out to help her right herself.  "Guess that rules out your
reflexes."
   "It's only been a few days.  I'm still getting used to things."
   "Two days, yet you managed to pair your friend." He helped her into the
chair and sat down as well.  "He's not what we expected."
   "You didn't know he was normal?" She fiddled with the dangling button
that failed to keep her jacket closed.
   "Know?  How could we?  Like tends to flock with like.  He may look
normal, but if you were unwilling to leave him, he must be more than he
seems.  He will work out." Antonio made a mock frown.  "Are you ashamed of
your body?"
   "No.  You just look at me all weird."
   "That is called appreciation." Antonio kneeled beside her.  "How about
I--"
   A knock on the door.
   Kevin opened the door with a smirk.  "Yeasmine, Kara wants to see you.
Tony, we need to go into town."
   Antonio pushed to his feet and winked at her.  "I guess it can wait."
   ***
   Kevin and Antonio paused in the hallway while Yeasmine crossed the upper
threshold to Kara's room.  The both of them drank in the vision of her
round hips swaying one side to the other.
   Antonio said, "Was she upset?"
   "Furious," said Kevin.  "She refreshed me on her vast store of French
curses and dispersions, but we're good."
   Antonio chuckled.  "Did you even think twice about risking our lives?"
   "I knew what I had to do, and I did it.  No regrets.  Unlike Rico."
   Antonio laughed as they headed down the stairs.  Celica was the stray
taken in out of pity and loathed out of regret.  "She's not so bad when she
has her mouth full."
   Kevin grunted in disagreement.  "I prefer a voice I can enjoy."
   ***
   Kara set her writing instrument aside and smiled.  "Ah, there you are.
Come in." She had a fluid, sultry accent.
   Yeasmine closed the door behind her.
   The woman wore her dark chocolate hair long and straight.  Authority and
poise bled through her every pore.
   "Mister Kevin said that you wanted to see me?" She clenched her hands
behind her back.
   "Kevin can be a bull of a man, headstrong." She bowed her head and
smiled.  "He paired you, brought you into my home, and sent you out to pair
another - all without my permission, knowing the trouble we faced.  I see
why he took such a risk."
   "I'm sorry if I contributed to that trouble."
   "You have not yet." Kara walked over to a large closet and pulled open
both doors.  "Remove those clothes.  I will provide you with new ones.  How
are are you adjusting?"
   "I'm doing fine, Miss Kara, but--"
   She clicked her tongue and wagged her finger.  "Kara will do.  Use the
familiar.  You are equal to us.  Continue."
   "I feel so tired, odd."
   "Try this." Kara handed her a dress.  "Pairing with another so soon
after your transformation?  I am astonished by your success."
   Yeasmine squeezed into the dress, it snagged on her shoulders.
   "No.  Stop.  Too small." Kara helped lift the dress over her head and
searched for another garment.  "I see an aura of destiny in you.  In
another time, Antasia could have filled a vault with your earnings."
   Yeasmine frowned.  What was she talking about?
   "What did Kevin teach you?  Anything?"
   "He said I was changed, that people wouldn't accept me anymore, and that
I needed to take the v-vit-vittay."
   "Vitae: it is life, energy.  There are many theories as there are
languages.  What else?" She handed her another dress and dug further into
her collection for more.
"How to survey a room, to stalk, and uh," flashes of the sins committed
in that basement, all the joy and pleasure it brought.  Were there rules
about that too?  "Other stuff."
   Kara muttered something in another language.  "We call ourselves Daiva.
You are used to the world calling you names, diminishing your worth.  That
worth is now greater, but so too the danger should anyone discover you, and
the creativity of the names you will be called.  Take these." She handed
Yeasmine an armful of clothes.
   Yeasmine's eyes widened as she stared down at the dresses.  "For me?"
   "They will do until you can make your own.  You sew?"
   "Yes.  I know a few stitches."
   She made a small sound and muttered to herself.  "I will get you work
doing alterations for the time being."
   "Is that all?"
   "No, young lady.  That is not all.  Though you have accepted you place,
I am not sure the gravity of it has settled upon you.  My boys have long
left behind the shackles of law and morality." She paused with a hum. 
"This life has made them ...  what you would call ...  uninhibited."
   Yeasmine was pretty sure she had never called anyone that.  She furrowed
her brows in confusion.  What was she trying to tell her?  Why did Kara
call three fully grow men, boys?
   "I can take care of myself, Miss ...  Kara.  I've been living right next
to dangerous folk all my life."
   Kara gave her a long, sad sigh.  "This is my safe house.  We have a
tradition of houses, places of refuge.  Houses have no government, no
soldiers, no police." She approached with a soft smile.  "I say to you, 'be
careful' because your confidence and bravado will not matter.  Keep
yourself in a corner and out of their sight.  I will assist you in finding
opportunities to replenish."
   Yeasmine frowned.  Being still and staying hidden were not her
strengths. Her father couldn't make her do any of that, and he had a big
leather belt and strong arm that did not tire.  "Celica says I can't stay.
Was she right?"
   "I am sole person who can make that decision.  For now, you are welcome.
Celica will adjust.  Is is natural for her to dislike you, and it has
nothing to do with your culture.  Heed my advice.  Keep to yourself and
stay out of sight." She opened the door.  "You may go."
   Yeasmine dropped off her new dresses.  On a normal woman, these would
have been simple, modest house dresses, covering her torso from elbow to
knee.  Yeasmine's body could make the most conservative attire appear
indecent.
   She had never had a dress so beautiful.  This one had opalescent
buttons, bright and sturdy threads, lace edges.  Why would she have to hide
her good fortune?  She was happy to have this life.
   Yeasmine left her room and went downstairs.
   Rico sat near a small fire in the gaming room.  It had a billiard's
table, dart board, chess boards, and other table top games on small, square
tables.
   "Yeasmine, you look lovely."
   "Thank you Mister Rico." She stood beside him and stared at the large
book in his lap.  Lines of words, numbers, and symbols she had never seen
before.  "What are you reading?"
   "About water and its effect on infrastructure over time."
   "Oh."
   He closed the book and set it aside.  "Where did you find such a
flattering gown?"
   "Miss Kara, I mean, Kara gave it to me."
   "Be sure to use the honorifics out of respect, not obligation, Miss
Yeasmine."
   She chuckled and grinned.  "That sounds nice."
   Upstairs, she heard Dante and another person in conversation.
   "Would you like to get out of here for a while?  I could help you find
someone.  You could use the extra energy after a pairing."
   She enjoyed Rico's vibrant tone and his melodic, relaxed accent.  She
had thought him a conquistador, but after getting to know him, he was
gentle, soft spoken, reserved.  She did need the extra energy, but she
hadn't said a word to Dante since dragging him here.  Was he upset with
her?
   Dante yelped and then laughed deep in his belly.  Footfalls sounded
through the wood framed house.  Maybe she had better leave him to it.
   "When?"
   "How about now?" His full lips appeared bright red against the mass of
his black beard and mustache.  When he smiled it lit his pale blue eyes.
   Yeasmine looked down to her feet.  "I'll need shoes."
   "Nonsense."
   Instead of heading for the main door, he led her to another room in the
basement.
   "There's a door down here?"
   "Yes.  Easier to travel in the evening this way." Rico opened the door
and lifted her onto his hip.
   She bounced and wrapped her arms around him.  She leaned on his shoulder
as they traveled through the tunnel.  She had not been in someone's arms
since she was a little girl.  She rolled her head back and with a cautious
hand, she reached for his beard.  She couldn't quite bury her fingers in
it, but it was thick, far softer than she expected.
   "How long have you been a daiva?"
   "At least forty years."
   Yeasmine snorted.  "You're not that old."
   "Glad you think so." They entered another, much larger basement and took
a narrow flight of stairs up into a flophouse.
   Though they were in a building, he didn't set her on her feet.  She was
in no hurry to leave his arms.
   "Close your eyes.  Feel your way along.  Some feel the pull of a magnet,
warmth, or sound.  You must find your own way."
   Her eyes were pinched shut, waiting for that something different.
   "Someone who wants you, will be open to your energy." His voice
distracted her for a moment.  Thoughts of wanting tangled with her
instinctive dismissal.
   In time, she pointed to a room.
   "Well done." He kissed her on the head and walked toward the room she
picked out.  He reached into his pocket and produced a key and unlocked the
door.
   "Why do you have a key?"
   "This key will open all the doors in the building." He put a finger to
his lips and set her on her feet.
   Two beds, one empty and a young man at a writing desk.
   He looked up and nodded.  "Good evening."
   "Do you remember how?"
   "Yes." Yeasmine walked over to the man at his desk.  She straddled his
lap and rested on his shoulder.  The energy vibrated in her gut, filling
and satisfying her better than any food she'd ever had.  It was like a
humming rope coiling in her belly, steadily being pulled away from the man
under her.
   Once that tug of the rope resisted, she sat back.  Her head rolled back,
her eyes went unfocused, blurring the candle lit chandelier.  All she felt
was the pounding of her heart.  No pain.  All euphoria.  She felt a rush
more potent and power than when she'd snuck a sip of her father's coffee.
   Strong arms hooked under hers.  With Rico's assistance, she rose from
the man's lap.  His head lolled to the side, a lazy smile on his face.
   Her touch did that to him.
   They sat on the bed together.  He pressed another soft kiss to her lips
and caressed her throat.  "How have you enjoyed your stay, young lady?"
   "Everyone is nice to me, save for Miss Celica."
   "Celica is insecure." He pressed a kiss to her nose.  "You are not, are
you?"
   She shook her head.  She didn't want to be anything like Celica.  "No
way."
   "You have a fire in your soul." He kissed her lips again, but this one
was not as innocent or short.  "Can I bask in your fire, gorgeous?  Share
that energy with you?"
   "I think." Her breath caught in her throat as he lifted her dress.  His
fingers played in her private space.  "I..." She felt as if she were on
fire when his fingers parted the folds of her pussy.  Her eyes closed and
she just lay there as he caressed and stroked her wet flesh.  It was just
enough to frustrate her.
   Rico shifted over her body.  The tale-tell sounds of clothing being
removed didn't quite stir her from the bed.  His weight settled on her body
as he pushed inside.  He held her hips firm as he thrust hard, jostling her
body.  It went on for a while, then he grunted and stopped altogether.
   Rico placed a final kiss to her forehead and rolled away.  He pulled his
trousers up, fastened the snaps, tightened his belt.
   She tugged her dress down and rolled off the bed and onto her feet.  Was
that it?  All he expected of her?  Somehow she expected it to be better
than last time around.
   They walked back down to the basement tunnel.  When Rico extended his
arm, she accepted the ride on his hip.  Though she hadn't enjoyed the
outing as much as she wanted, the pain that churned internally had calmed.
   That was fine.  It was time for her to find that corner Kara mentioned
and rest.
   She paused in front of the stairs.  Dante laughed somewhere in the house
then came thundering down the stairway.  Kevin caught up and tackled him.
They fought, but it was hard for her to tell if they were playing or not.
   When it was clear they were not going to clear a path, she stepped
around them.
   Dante broke away and looked up at her.  Kevin lay down beside him and
leered at Yeasmine.  He took a deep breath and his wolfish grin darkened.
   "He's going to get it." Kevin whispered following by foreign-tongued
epithets.
   She frowned on her way up the stairs.  Because Kevin was watching, she
refused to run.  She took her time, defying her embarrassment and swishing
her hips a little along the way.  What was she supposed to do?  She hadn't
meant to get Rico in trouble, but the man had confused her, surprised her.
   She cast a final glance over her shoulder to see if he was watching.
   Kevin whispered something in Dante's ear, both of them stared.
   What was he saying?  Was it something about her?
   She collided with Antonio at the top of the stairs.
   He put his arms around her waist to steady her.  "When do I get a show
like that?" Antonio exaggerated his pout.
   "I should rest."
   "Excellent idea." Antonio walked her to his room and closed the door.
   Yeasmine gnawed on her tongue.  Had she done something wrong?
   "Aw, belle.  You look terrified.  Show me the goddess I saw on those
stairs."
   She flushed and looked around the room.  So many odd sculptures and
small paintings, but not of people or places.  Some of them were no larger
than a book cover.  "I didn't want them making fun of me." She stepped
closer to one of the small paintings.  Bright colors, fine detail, the
surface had been etched to add shadows to the strange display.
   Antonio put his arm around her waist and pointed to a groove in the
painting.  "She uses her fingers to apply the thick paint, a primal
expression of her vision." His fingers caressed her side.  "Was it that
bad?"
   She shook her head.
   "Have a seat with me, bella." He stretched out on his bed, tucked the
pillows under his side.
   She sat on the bed at the bend of his waist.
   "If you want more, you should ask."
   That sounded like a wonderful piece of advice she would never take.
   "I would like to bring you that pleasure.  Undress?"
   She slid off the bed and slipped out of her dress.  Being next to them
lessened her pain, the promise of pleasure was an afterthought.
   "You're what?  Seventeen, eighteen?"
   "Fifteen this past summer." She kneeled on the bed.
   He nodded and there was a long silence.  His golden orange brows lashes
seemed invisible in the low light.  "Lay down." He rolled over her and
pulled her legs apart.  He grinned as he curled his fingers through her
pubic hair.  "Did you color it?"
   She didn't have to wonder what he was talking about.  She had inspected
every inch of her body in the mirror.  "No.  All my hair grows like that:
black, brown, and dark red.  But there's no red down there."
   "I can put some red down there." He winked.
   "More like orange." Her face twitched as a grin tried to break through
her sullen expression.  This was no time for jokes.
   He caressed her thighs, circled her hips and moved down to her knees. 
His trousers outlined the bulk of his erection.  "Same as your eyes.  Do
you know why they're like that?"
   She shook her head.  "Do you?"
   "I've seen it, something like it.  Some people have one eye colored
lighter than the other, but nothing like yours." He leaned over, his hips
between her spread thighs, and framed her chin with his hand.  "Your eyes
are very beautiful." His green eyes shifted as they stared at each other.
"I have never seen blue, green, and brown in a single pair of eyes, and I
have seen my share of oddities."
   His tongue snaked out and flicked against her lips.
   She drew a shuddered breath as his fingers played in the small inner
lips of her pussy.  His fingers were slow moving, but insistent on burying
deeper inside her.
   He kissed her on the cheek and worked his way down her neck.  "I'll take
it easy." He pulled his fingers out and worked his trousers off.
   "Make it good."
   "I promise I will."
   ***
   An hour later, Yeasmine lay within the confines of her room staring into
the darkness.  Antonio delivered on his promise, had her burying her noises
into his linen.
   But now she wanted to go home.  She wanted to get the beating she
deserved and be sent to her room.  Never had Yeasmine thought she would
miss her father's wrath, his punishment, his cruelty.
   Pain spiked some where in her back, but she breathed through it.  She
turned her mind to earlier.  Trying to examine where she had gone wrong.
   She had moaned like a woman.  Her body thrashed under Antonio.  Her
climax rolled over smoothly into another and yet another.  At the time it
seemed so perfect, so freeing.
   Why would she lie with them again?  What about those names?  Names Dante
would surely call her.  Names Celica already spoke.
   The fun was over.  She wanted to go home.
   She should have listened to Kara.
   Her door opened.  Kevin stepped in and closed the door behind him.  She
had not lit any candles.  No moonlight found its way through her shuttered
windows or light passed through the hallway.  She could not see him, but
she knew.
   "Go away.  This is my room."
   His hand slipped around her throat and squeezed.  His weight settled on
hers.
   "Kevin," she gasped, "get off me."
   "Both of them beat me.  Sometimes Tony manages, but Rico rarely bothers.
Now, with you, my own creation.  Mine.  Both of them?" With a scoff he
eased his hand away from her throat.  "You get around, don't you, girl?"
   "Get out.  I don't need you in here fussing at me."
   "Stop with that.  This is your room, yes.  Only your mater may enter
without permission.  Who would that be?  Hmm?"
   "You ...  Mister Kevin."
   "You detest me?"
   "I never said that!"
   He kissed her on the forehead.  "I didn't think you had."
   She tried to sit up, but he held her to the bed.  He inhaled deeply and
rubbed his cheek to hers.  The action was gentle, but Yeasmine flinched. 
Fear kept building without logic.  "You had fun with my brothers while I
was distracted by your progeny.  Clever fucking wench.  Now I want you, my
love."
   "You don't love me.  You don't even know me."
   "No, I guess not." Kevin eased back.  "I have plenty of lust and greed
to make up for that lack.  I knew the moment I looked at you that I had to
have you again, but the only way to do that," he pulled her into his arms
and cradled her.  It was the same way she had awaken after he paired with
her: frightened, disoriented, light headed.  His was the first face she
saw, his voice had been an anchor through her storm.  "Was to pair with
you."
"What do you want from me?" She searched her mind for some way to escape
him.
   "I am shocked you have to ask." He sounded as if he were smiling.  "I
thought I made it clear the first time: I want you."
   "What if I refuse?"
   His bemused chuckle filled the dark room.  He pressed his head to hers.
"My fiery one, if you continue to behave like a brat, I will treat you like
one."
   "Is that so?"
   "Your choice.  You know what I want."
   No police, no one will come.  "Get out." She swung and her fist
connected with his face.  She kicked and beat on his chest until she was
upright, raining blows on his body.  Every frustration and irritation
flowed through her, sapping her of reason or logic.
   Kevin did not move, didn't try to restrain or block her until she moved
to get off the bed.  She eased back several steps, making steady progress
toward the door.
   His voice came from behind her, right in her ear.  "I like this game. 
Now it's my turn."
   -_ Qua _Yeasmine groaned low in her throat.  Pain churned inside her
body and on the surface.  Aching muscles, torn skin, stinging wounds.  She
pushed the covers back.
   Antonio sat in the chair beside her bed.
   She whimpered and cried into her pillow.  What now?
   "I'm here if you need me."
   She pushed off her pillow and wiped her swollen eyes clear.  Her scowl
was marred by pain.  "You?" Her breath hitched as a dull ache flared in her
ribs.  She coughed wet phlegm into her mouth then swallowed.  "You? 
Righteous Antonio?  My savior?  Tell me why I want anything from you?" A
sharp tug in her belly, like tiny knives shifting.  "The three of you made
some kind of bet.  I was a game." She sniffled.  "Who gets to ride the
freak girl ...  again."
   His soft green eyes looked directly into hers.  "I am always happy to
play along.  That is over now." Antonio reached out but she pulled away
from him.  "You are quite beautiful, but no one here thinks of you as a
freak.  I wanted to best Kevin, but I was not cruel to you." He folded his
arms.
   Yeasmine stared at the dusty corners of the room.  One of the bed posts
looked cracked.  Blood covered the sheets.  She eased down onto her back.
She drew a deep breath and coughed.  Inside, the pain centered in her lower
back, pounding away as if nails were being driven into her spine.
   Though they didn't say much, Antonio remained by her side during her
recovery.  He assisted her when she needed it, got her water.  When she
took her evening bath, he changed her linen.  He did all this without a
word.
   She marked time by the quiet arrival and departure of Antonio or Dante.
   When she got the strength to move on her own, she gathered her soiled
clothing and took them down to the washroom.  The sight of two men she was
too weak to scold caring for her spurred her toward independence.
   Yeasmine wrung her clothing dry.
   "Looks like he gave you everything you deserve." Celica examined
Yeasmine's bruised and injured body.
   "Deserve?"
   "That's right, whore.  You couldn't keep your filthy little cunny to
yourself.  I can't figure out why they didn't just leave you in the dirt."
   Filthy?!  "Miss Celica, I don't know what you been hearing, but--"
   Celica slapped her.  Muscles in Yeasmine's neck, shoulder, and back all
screamed in fresh pain.  Another blow didn't come, but Celica's face was
flushed red with anger.
   "Don't hit me again."
   She made a noise like some kind of twittering bird.  "Or what?"
   "I'll fight you if I have to."
   "You wouldn't dare.  Lay one hand on me and I'll make sure they kill
you." Celica's backhand landed hard enough to send fresh blood into
Yeasmine's mouth.  "You stay away from Rico!  Go be a whore with the rest
of them."
   Yeasmine backed away from Celica and cowered in the far corner of the
room.  One hand held her stinging cheek, the other balled into a fist.  No
good came from trying to attack.  "I apologize, Miss.  I'll stay away from
him."
   "Because you're a filthy little whore.  Say it."
   Her vision blurred, but not from tears.  She blinked rapidly, trying to
regain her focus.  Heat warmed her skin.  "You wouldn't have a chance
unless I did."
   Celica overturned the folding table that stood between them. 
"Smart-mouthed bitch.  No wonder he beat you.  Want more?"
   "Get away from me before I hurt you."
   Celica giggled.  "Before you hurt me?  Empty threats."
   "You'd be surprised." Yeasmine attempted to add a note of confidence,
but failed.  Her voice had more of a plaintive whine.  What made her say
that?  Sure, she thought it, but she wasn't supposed to say it.
   "No one is going to be upset over a dead freak."
   Yeasmine dashed for the door.  She made it a few steps before Celica
snatched Yeasmine's hair.  She pulled of short and fell backwards.
   "You're slow." Celica tossed Yeasmine to the ground and kicked her.  Her
ribs, her side, her thighs.  Then the foot came down on her neck.  "Do you
see how easily I can crush you?"
   Yeasmine twisted Celica's foot and rolled away from her.  Yeasmine
sprang to her feet and pushed Celica down and kneed the woman in the
abdomen.  "How easy," she drew a ragged breath, "was it again?"
   "Get off me!"
   Yeasmine stood and laughed at the show of pain on Celica's face.  Good.
It was about time someone else felt her agony.  "I think we done here for
now, Miss Celica." With the flip of her curls, she turned to leave the
room.
   Celica's growling screech didn't help Yeasmine avoid what was coming. 
Yeasmine was off her feet and weightless a moment before her body slammed
to the solid basement floor.  Her vision went black, skin prickled, inside
everything slowed and turned cold.
   Yeasmine wanted to speak.  Her jaw flexed, but too much fluid filled her
mouth.  She could not move, could not even groan.
   As if everything began to flow in reverse, her heart went from a
sluggish pace to a rapid gallop.  Her mind cleared.  She swallowed and she
finally had the ability to scream and beg, but she was no longer of the
mind to do either.
   Celica muttered, "finish you myself."
   Blind, Yeasmine's hand clamped around Celica's throat.  The muscles in
her arm tensed until Celica could not make a sound.
   Yeasmine pulled the woman down to the floor beside her then lashed out
with both her hands, both feet, even her teeth.  She attacked Celica
without a thought to method or purpose.  It was the euphoric bliss she'd
felt while beating Kevin, minus the anger and confusion.  Peace and calm
wrapped in a furious shell.
   Her eyes stung.  Yeasmine sneezed and slicked chunky wet-matter from her
face.  She squinted through the red haze.
   Blood everywhere, red and black, bits of yellow and white.  Bone.
   She crawled to the water basin and washed.  This dress was ruined.
   Tears flowed as she scrubbed the blood from under her nails.  "I want my
mommy," she mumbled.
   There was no mother for her to have, dead and gone for seven years,
leaving her with a depressed and enraged father.
   She cleaned the clothes, and put the damp dress back on.  She left the
other to dry on the line.
   Celica lay in a heap on the floor and that suited Yeasmine just fine. 
She climbed the stairs to the sun room and collapsed on the couch.
   No more crying.  The weight of the past few days seemed determined to
drag her down.  She chewed the inside of her bottom lip and willed herself
to look forward.  No crying.  Unless she wanted this to become every day of
her life she needed to come up with a plan.
   Staying quiet and hidden.  She couldn't do it.  She had to leave.
   A kiss on her shoulder snapped her out of her internal anguish. 
Yeasmine jumped to her feet and turned on Antonio.
   He grinned as if waiting for her approval.
   She bellowed.  "Stop sneaking up on me!"
   Antonio put his hands in the air.  "At ease, belle.  Though I do love
the way you flare up.  Nicely done."
   "She is quite the sight." A voice as soft as a breeze agreed.
   "Yeasmine, this is Tiara, a friend of ours.  Tiara, this is Yeasmine,
Kevin's mistress."
   Yeasmine looked down at herself.  The damp dress didn't look too bad. 
The hem was long enough to hide the wounds on her legs, but the bruises on
her face could not be hidden.
   How were they having a normal conversation?
   "Hello, young woman."
   "Hello, Miss Tiara.  Pleased to meet you." Yeasmine eased onto the couch
with a muffled cry.
   "What's the matter?" Antonio sat on the other side of her.  "Where do
you hurt?"
   She chewed on her tongue.  Dumb question.  Where didn't she hurt?
   "Come now, just tell me.  Tiara can help too."
   Free tickets to the freak show.  "Get away from me."
   Antonio lowered his voice to a whisper.  "You are in pain.  I can feel
it.  Anyone can see that.  Now, please, what is wrong?" He took her hand
and kissed her knuckles.
   She pointed to the right side of her chest near her lower ribs.  "It
feels worse here."
   "Your, uh, talk with Celica didn't end too well, huh?" He winked and
smirked at her.
   Yeasmine hung her head and fear swelled to a nauseous cloud.  Had she
been the toy in another game?
   "Let me look." Tiara reached out to feel the spot she indicated.  She
had a thin, delicate hand.
   "She's good with this," said Antonio.  "It's her qua."
   The press of her finger tips turned warm on her rib cage.  The woman
closed her almond shaped hazel eyes.  When Tiara removed her hand, the
sharp stab in her side went away.
   "Wow.  You can heal people?"
   The woman's already melancholy expression dampened.  "Yes, not that it
helps me at all."
   "Why?  What's wrong with you?"
   She placed her hand to Yeasmine's thigh, right over the massive bruise
and sent the healing into the muscles.  "I cannot reproduce.  Most daiva
are barren or lose their infants within months.  There is no qua in the
land that can heal that wound." She swayed a bit and pulled her hand back.
"I need to lie down." She looked drawn, even more pale, and beads of sweat
formed on her head.
   She pointed to Yeasmine.  "You stay with her."
   Antonio draped his arm around Yeasmine's shoulders.  "I'm here on
orders," he said with a smile.  "So what happened?" His hand rested in her
lap.
   "Nothing."
   "Certainly not nothing.  The whole house heard the two of you.  You reek
of battle.  Sounded like two cats trapped in a closet."
   "Then you know we fought."
   "Yes," he laughed.  "And?"
   It turned her stomach that they found such violence amusing.  "I thought
I was going to die, Antonio.  I was so scared.  Everything was slowing
down. I went empty, cold, dark.  Then, it was like I felt myself fighting,
but I didn't know what I was doing.  She left me alone, so I won, I guess."
   "You guess." He laughed softly.  "I would be surprised if Celica could
work her way out a wet paper bag.  You had the upper hand the whole time. I
think her mater died pairing her."
   She turned to him.  "You can die trying to pair someone?"
   "It's not unheard of.  The risk is always there."
   "Kevin could have died?"
   He smirked, amused by her horror.  "We are long-lived, belle, but not
immortal.  Pairing is a perilous undertaking for a daiva."
   "And then he sent me out to do the same." Yeasmine pushed Antonio's arm
off her.  "No wonder he was surprised to see me."
   "Yes, he was, but he bragged about it the whole way to town."
   She paced the floor.  Walking felt better than sitting.  Most of the
surface pain had been taken away, but the deeper aches remained.  "I'm
stronger than her?"
   "I'd place my bet on you."
   Yeasmine glanced to the cellar door.  Bile rose to the back of her
throat.
   The front door opened.  Dante and Kevin entered with conversation
interspersed with laughter.
   "I'll say!" Kevin pat Dante on the back.  They entered the sun room full
of smiles.
   Kevin's smile was the first to fade.  "Girl, what have you done?"
   Yeasmine shrank back to the wall as he approached.
   Antonio said, "She got in a fight with Celica."
   "She," Kevin smiled, "did a hell of a lot more than that." He winked and
his smile seemed to be one of pride.  "Dante, check the washroom."
   Yeasmine trembled with fear.  If Antonio was right, she knew what he was
about to find.
   "What did she do?" Antonio said.
   Yeasmine opened her mouth, but she didn't know what to say.
   Kevin kneeled in front of her.  "She killed her."
   Yeasmine shook her head and balled her hands at her stomach.  She knew
what this meant.  A colored girl murdering a white woman?  Her heart
hammered in her chest.  Would Kara inflict the punishment herself?
   "I thought she passed out.  She was trying to kill me.  I thought I was
going to die.  I couldn't think.  I didn't know what I was doing.  I ...  I
didn't have control.  You have to believe me." She panted, her head felt
light.
   Dante came back into the sitting room looking a full shade paler.  He
opened his mouth to speak but ran to the kitchen.  Dry retching followed.
   "I didn't know she was dead.  I didn't know I could kill her.  I didn't
mean it.  I just wanted her to stop."
   Kevin startled her with his touch, but he only rested his hand on her
thigh.  He got to his feet and kissed her on the head.  "She attacked
expecting to take her life."
   Antonio nodded.  "I'd agree."
   Kevin whispered, "Did us a favor."
   Yeasmine snapped her head up, flinging tears onto his chest.
   He sighed.  "Regardless, Kara will not allow you to stay after this. 
I'll take you--"
   "You are insane," said Antonio.  "You leave with her and Kara will burn
this city to the ground looking for you.  I'll take her to my place."
   "You?" Kevin's expression darkened.  "Why?"
   "I care about her."
   "Care?" He blew a puff of air through his lips.  "Don't posture in front
of this baby."
   "She may have been a baby once, but she is plenty woman."
   Kevin scowled.  "You want to take her, Tony?  Take her." He faced
Yeasmine and put a finger under her chin.  "You are a stunning beauty, a
radiant bonfire in these stagnant times.  You deserve to kill anyone that
would try and take your life.  Even me." He pressed a kiss to her lips.  "I
tested you, cherie, but I never sought to break you.  I will always protect
what is mine."
   "Ours," said Antonio.
   Yeasmine turned and side-stepped to put some space between her and
Kevin. Confusion was too small a word.  They didn't care?
   'Mine,' Kevin mouthed to her, then said out loud.  "Yes, exactly."
   "I'll take care of her, brother.  Whatever you think my reasons are, I
promise."
   "I'll calm Kara down and send word when you can return.  Make sure she
replenishes.  Those bruises on her face should be gone by now.  You have
funds?"
   Antonio nodded.  "Before we go, apologize to her?"
   "Huh?" Kevin turned his confused expression to Yeasmine.  "For what?"
   Yeasmine shook her head.  "Keep it.  I need to change clothes."
   "Go.  Rico and Kara will be back soon."
   Once upstairs she changed into a dry dress and pulled on her ragged
coat. She found her shoes and tied them on and tucked the mass of her hair
under a shawl.
   Dante waited in the hallway outside her door.  For a while they stood
staring at each other in silence.  He reached out and pulled her into a
hug.
   "How can you stand to touch me?" She whispered.
   "Easy." He kissed her on the cheek.  "Take care of yourself.  I haven't
forgotten your orders."
   She had no idea what orders those may have been.  She nodded and went
down stairs.
   Antonio had two bags on his shoulders.  "Ready?"
   No.
   "Yes."
   ***
   Yeasmine squinted at the sun setting through the trees.  It looked
particularly bright, much brighter than she remembered.  All that time
spent indoors made her realize how much time she had spent in darkness.
   Antonio put his arm around her shoulders.
   She stared at that arm.  Tiny golden hairs, a decent amount of muscle -
but not to the extent that Kevin had.  Antonio was larger, heftier.  "You
can't do that when we get into town."
   "I'll do this and more when I want." He pulled her head to his chest. 
"I have a house in Willow Lake.  You'll be safe there."
   "Doubt it."
   "Why is that?"
   "Lot of good Kara's 'safe house' did me."
   He laughed.  "A tragic irony."
   They walked an hour in silence.  The first vehicle to pass was a
two-horse trailer.  The driver was generous enough to allow them to ride in
the back.
   "Are you all right?" He took her hand in his.
   "Dizzy."
   "I'll help you find someone when we get into town." He pulled on the
collar of her shirt, looked back and forth, but he didn't seem to be
looking for her breasts.  "Where is it?"
   She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a silver pendant. 
"This?"
   He smiled down at it.  "Yeah.  Where's the chain?"
   "It broke." She formed a fist over her pendant.  Several of the links
had been broken during her fight with Kevin.
   "Do you know what it is?"
   She shook her head.  "A lion with wings and a snake tail.  That's all."
   "Where did you get it?"
   "Found it." She narrowed her eyes and frowned.  "Not like that.  It was
in my mother's things.  After she died, I went looking through her stuff.
It was in a box with my name on it."
   He smiled and his eyes brightened.  "You read?"
   "No.  I know my name and my letters."
   "What else was in the box?"
   "Other stuff, but I couldn't read it.  My father sold her jewelry, but I
hid this." She opened her palm.  "Do you know what it is?"
   "Era il mostro d'origine divina.  Lion la testa, il petto capra, e
dragon la coda; e dalla bocca orrende vampe vomitava di foco."
   She stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.  "Huh?"
   "A divine creature that breathed fire.  She had the head of a lion,
chest of a goat, and tail of a dragon.  It is a mythical beast mentioned in
the Iliad, a poem."
   "A little bit of everything.  That's what she called me."
   "And you have the fire-breathing."
   She elbowed him in the side.
   "See?" He laughed and pantomimed a claw toward her face.
   The driver let them off in town.  They were back to walking, but without
the hand holding or large arm around her.
   "Mister Antonio?"
   "Haven't you been told about that?"
   "We're in public." She muttered.
   He looked around sighed.  "Yeah?"
   "How do you know Kevin and Rico?"
   Antonio pointed to a building and they veered to the right.  "We don't
have time for history.  Remind me later."
   She nodded.
   "Let's get you balanced."
   ***
   Yeasmine didn't understand how it worked, only that somehow, when she
lay close to a person, their energy flowed into her.  It caused some of the
pain to go away, but not enough.  They left the house through the back and
reentered the dense woods.
   "You don't want to leave the same place you entered.  Don't hang around;
don't look behind you.  A little confidence goes a long way.  Even if
someone does see you, looking suspicious will make the person watching you
suspicious."
   She pointed to a tree and walked ahead.  "Can you climb?"
   "Yes."
   She hoisted herself up a branch and shimmied her way to the middle of
the oak.
   "What are we doing?" Antonio followed her with a bag on either arm.  He
set them in a nest of lower branches the followed her to the top.
   She pointed to the moon rising over the water.  "May I watch for a
while?"
   "Of course." He found a branch he liked and settled down, then pulled
Yeasmine into his lap.
   "Mis ...  Antonio?"
   He hummed.
   "History?"
   He sighed heavily.  "Where do I begin?"
   She stared at the moon, the light churned by the gulf waters.  "With
me."
   "When it came time for Kevin to kill you, he didn't.  We rarely play
with daiva.  It's dangerous, and Kevin only resorts to it when he's most
saddled with ennui.i" Antonio cleared his throat.
   "I guess he was really bored to risk pairing with me." She took one of
his palms in both of hers.  Thick, weathered skin, healthy, firm.  "And how
did you come to play with another girl's life so easily?"
   "I, uh, worked as a deck hand by trade.  Kara and Kevin say they picked
me as I was securing the vessel they arrived on.  I thought they were
siblings, later, a married couple, but their bond was something I did not
come to know until she paired me.  We traveled south, and that's when I met
Rico.
   "Rico is the first one Kara paired, but Kevin is her favorite.  Kevin
and I never really got along until we met Rico.  He's a cloistered little
shit most days, but a riot when he gets that chip off his shoulder,"
Antonio laughed to himself.
   "We are all fond of the coastline, each of us being born on a different
one.  So, we kept to it, moving as hostilities dictate."
   He hugged her briefly and kissed her cheek.  "When Kara gets angry, the
only solution is to get away from her.  That is why you are with me."
   "Are there people who don't stay away?"
   He nodded.  "All dead."
   The full moon had drifted over the horizon, glowing yellowish orange.
   "Here's what I don't understand.  Who is Kara?  To you all."
   "She is our mater.  At different times she is as close as a sibling, as
warm as a lover, and steadfast as a friend.  She sacrificed her life each
time to give us the one we have now.  Kara is at peace with her children
being adults."
   "But not Tiara?"
   He nodded.  "She yearns for the impossible."
   Yeasmine rubbed her temples, shifted in his arms.
   "What troubles you?"
   "Hurts," she bit off.  "It will pass in a moment."
   "What hurts?"
   She ignored him and breathed through the ache.  "All your words sound
crazy, but I keep having more questions."
   "Save them.  Get some rest.  We're a brief stroll away." He pulled her
head back to his shoulder so that she could see the moon and stars above.
"Enjoy the view."
   ***
   The single story blue house was the first to appear once they cleared
the woods.  Dry grass, wilted plants, a stack of milk crates along the
side. She hadn't seen the front, but this place already felt like home.
   The rest of the neighborhood had much of the same shabby, well-used
ambiance.  This was the kind of place where people skimmed the line of
being homeless: poor, working-class, mixed.  People with stringent mores
and worked hard hours.
   Antonio turned over a flat black rock beside the porch and pulled up a
key.
   Floor boards groaned under their foot steps.  Mens' clothing lay about
the living room.  Mold filled cups, covered dirty plates.  Dirt covered the
floor.  There wasn't much for furniture, but plenty of mess.
   "Who lives here?"
   "His name is Sam."
   "Is he one of us?"
   "Yes."
   "What's he like?"
   "Depends on the mood.  I expect him to be upset, but that will pass."
Antonio led Yeasmine to a room in the back and used a key in his coat
pocket to open the door.  "We'll sleep here."
   This part of the house was musty, but clean.
   "The drapes in here are heavy, and this section was build with
reinforced walls."
   "Why do you block the windows?"
   "Enhances senses aren't always a blessing.  Noise and light don't help
you get rest.  You're young, so it will take time for you to learn to
control it."
   Yeasmine shrugged.  She wasn't sure what was so bad.  Everything seemed
normal to her.  She pulled off her coat and shoes.
   "There's a washroom over there if you need it."
   Her thoughts turned inward the moment her head hit the pillow.  She
wanted to go home, but if her father didn't kill her, someone else would.
Dante was gone, Celica dead, and she was to blame for both.
   Kara had only been trying to help her and now she had pissed the woman
off.
   She was dirty inside and out, body and soul.  Filthy.  What was she
going to do now?
   Tears failed to form, too many had fallen already.  In the span of a few
weeks she had lost her home, her best friend, her childhood, and her life.
She had been thrown into the mix with this red-headed devil who was no
better for her.
   Could it get any worse?
   ***
   Antonio kicked the dirty blankets and clothes down to the opposite end
of the couch.  He settled onto the musty cushion with a smug grin.  He had
the vibrant spitfire to himself.  Now he only had to make her smile a more
permanent feature.
   He drifted off, one fantasy morphed into another.  The high and
lowlights of his life flipped by like fragments of a song surviving only as
a broken melody.
   A key turned in the front door.
   Antonio straightened.
   Sam turned on the light.  "Fool's fortune," he grumbled.
   "Evening, Sam."
   "What the hell are you doing here?"
   "Visiting."
   "In the dark?" Sam snatched off his jacket and tossed it on the nearest
chair.  "My boy is coming home in the morning.  He's out of work and got no
where to lay his head.  I don't have the means for a girl anymore."
   "I hadn't noticed.  I have a friend with me."
   "I'm serious about this, man.  The store closed down, and I'm out trying
to find work.  The less mouths to feed, the better.  That's what you said."
   "Sam?  Are you ashamed of my presence?" Antonio chuckled.  "I'm making
good money on the pier."
   "No.  Damn it.  No friends.  People around here won't take to it."
   "You are in no position to argue."
   "This is my house.  I won't have you coming in here--"
   Antonio stood and walked over to Sam.  He grabbed the sputtering man by
his collar and jacked him up to the wall.
   Sam wriggled liked a petulant toddler, legs kicking and arms flailing.
   "You are expecting your son, right?  Or did you mean 'boy' in more of a
private manner?"
   His body went slack.
   Antonio set Sam onto his feet and pat him on the back.  "How old is he?"
   "Seventeen now."
   Antonio cursed under his breath.  "I hope he's nothing like you."
   Sam looked around, took a few steps toward the kitchen.  "Where is this
friend of yours?"
   "She's sleep."
   "Is she now?" Sam's face brightened.  "May I see?"
   "Come on."
   Sam's eyes widened at the sight of the dark girl balled up on the bed.
He took a few steps closer.  "Pretty thing.  Where'd you snatch a blooming
flower like this?"
   "A tomboy that wandered into our web."
   "Tomboy?  Would not believe it."
   "She puts on a good show."
   "Charity girl?" Sam lifted the edge of the blanket.
   "Not yours.  Keep your hands off her."
   "I was only looking."
   "And now you have seen."
   Sam backed away from he bed.  "Have your way.  Guess we won't be needing
that girl."
   Antonio pushed Sam out of the room.  "She is not here to be your
servant. I said I would see to it."
   He closed the door on the man, checked the lock as well as the the
windows.  He then lay down beside Yeasmine and went to sleep.
   ***
   Sam set the magazine aside.  The ebony princess sat on the chair across
from him.  Though he had seen her in her sleep, that was nothing.  He meant
to say hello, offer a word of greeting, but her eyes mesmerized him.
   One was as blue as the summer sky, the other green as peppers, and each
mixed with a slice of whiskey brown pie.  Her alien eyes turned hard. 
"Good afternoon, mister.  What's your name?"
   "Sam, and you?  Lift that skirt up, let me see those sweet legs."
   "Yeasmine." She ignored his request.
   "Peculiar name for a colored girl."
   "I'm a peculiar girl."
   Sam sat up and put his elbows on his knees.
   She leaned forward and pulled the skirt up, let the fabric rest on her
thighs.
   Bruises, scars, and patch-work coloring, as if her skin were quilted.
   "I-I can get you some bandages.  They'll heal up nice." He went over and
took her hand.  "I'll show you around the neighborhood.  We can feast."
   "Bandages would be nice."
   "Here.  Come to my room." He kicked a path clear of his medicine drawer.
Most of his gauze was brown with age.  But he found the ointment he sought.
"Antonio was keen to keep you away from me.  If he communicated that to
you, I do apologize.  I can be crass about my privacy, being what I am." He
grinned and placed his hand to her breast.  "You got girl tits.  Tall and
heavy as you are, I know girl tits.  Are they sensitive?"
   Her throat worked as she swallowed.  "Yes, sir."
   "I can tell," he circled her fat, puffy nipple.  "I'm being gentle
enough, aren't I?"
   "If I ask you to stop, will you hurt me?"
   "You're a guest in my house."
   "Stop," she whispered.
   He nodded and dropped his hand.  "Someone didn't listen, huh girl?  Not
good for our kind to enter the world afraid." He made a pile of the
bandages in her hands.  "You are something special," he whispered.  "You
could travel the world and have worshippers at your feet."
   "I'll settle for being left alone."
   ***
   Yeasmine did not like this man.  His face was harsh to look at, but he'd
been nothing but kind.  Now, his continued praise almost forced a change of
mind.  As if he were worming his way past her fear and hatred, making her
the insufferable bitch.  Some guest.
   Sam said, "You know about the circuits?"
   She shook her head.
   "They come through here once, sometimes twice a year.  Acts, games,
parties.  Never been?"
   "No, sir.  I wasn't allowed."
   He nodded.
   Antonio entered the room.  "Everything all right in here?"
   "He taught me to fix the sink," she said.
   "And chatting up this gem of yours.  She's never been to a circuit."
   Yeasmine left them to talk.  She stopped in the hallway bathroom.  She'd
heard the word before, but it didn't sound like any place she wanted to be.
Her father had been drunk, playing cards in the front room.  She woke in
the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep.
   The house had gone quiet, so Yeasmine got up to investigated.
   Her father had said, "Two more years, I'm selling her to the first
circuit I see."
   "Why not wait for the right one?  Yeasmine is a heavy purse."
   Sold to the first circuit.  Fearful of being caught, she had slunk back
into bed.
   Two years would be six months in her case.  The worry and nightmares
that came from that approaching day filled her with so much rage.
   Was it as much a punishment as she feared?
   'Sam has a son.  Nothing but trouble.'
   Yeasmine frowned at the thought.  Why would she care about Sam or the
son he didn't have?  She wasn't even thinking about that man anymore.
   His kindness be damned.
   ***
   Antonio arched back, searching the tree tops.  How was he going to
fulfill his promise if he couldn't keep track of her for more than a few
hours?
   Once he found her, he climbed until the tree.  A few of the branches
groaned and swayed.  "It takes me forever to find you."
   "Not as good at tracking without Rico?"
   "Damn right, and you know it, too.  Why are you out here so much?"
   "I'm not used to being indoors.  I don't ...  I want to be outside,
where I can see."
   "It's cold.  Aren't you cold?"
   She shrugged, her long face indicated the other promise he had to work
on.  "Not too much."
   "Listen, I need to tell you that Sam has a son."
   She frowned at him, not with annoyance, but something else hidden.
   "Did he tell you already?"
   She shook her head slowly.  "He's trouble?"
   Antonio, Kevin, and Rico had been so busy playing games, that they
forgot the conversational part of her test.  So much had happened, they
rarely spoke.  "Yes.  Listen, I know we annoyed you and that Kevin was
cruel, but we had a method to some of that madness.  We wanted to know if
we could control your qua."
   "The extra ability?"
   "Yes.  You knew he had a son and that he was trouble."
   "But you want me back at the house?"
   "I want to know if you're safe."
   Her face pinched in pain, but it was so brief, Antonio wasn't sure
whether he imagined it.
   "Fine." She giggled.  "Safe with you."
   Their agreement lasted all of a week.
   Yeasmine was barely home, choosing to spend her days and several nights
in the elements.  The dropping temperatures and bitter cold nights did not
deter her.
   Antonio honed his neglected skill by tracking her down every few days.
Daylight hours he could find her up a tree.  He never found her if she
wasn't home by dusk.
   He had another hour before he would have to give up this search.
   Her voice, and several other men.
   Three older men stood around her.  Traps slung over their shoulders,
thick beards on their faces.
   He crouched down and listened.
   She did not seem afraid.
   Yeasmine appeared to be giving them information, smiling and laughing at
their jokes.  "Where are you camping?" She shrugged one shoulder, "if you
don't mind my asking."
   "I mind, only because I don't want our pelts snatched while we sleep."
   "Smart thing to do is sleep in shifts.  Hard to do when you're out here
alone, but I manage."
   The men shared a look and one of them leaned forward and whispered in
her ear.
   She nodded.
   The trappers headed off down the path.
   She headed in Antonio's direction, but stopped by the tree.  "They are
super sensitive about thieves.  You need to go."
   "Just making sure you're okay."
   "You see I am."
   "This is too far away."
   "Hence why I'm making sure I have a warm body tonight."
   "Ouch."
   "You don't need to come looking for me.  I been in these woods since I
was a girl."
   "I bet you went to your own bed at night."
   "Whipped and bruised for my transgressions.  What are you going to do?"
   He couldn't win.  He held his hand up and presented a box.  "I came to
give this to you."
   Yeasmine came around the tree and opened the box.  She pulled up the
gleaming silver chain.  "I can't wear this."
   "It's for the chimera.  Take care of it, and it will last several
lifetimes."
   She slipped the pendant onto the chain.  "Why bother with me?  I don't
need help.  I can do this alone.  I wanted to be out of my father's house.
I know I can come to you if I need you."
   "You are my responsibility.  I know that word doesn't mean much to you,
but it means plenty to me."
   "Go back to Kara's.  I don't need you."
   Antonio pat his lap.  "I've got some time before you slink off.  I want
to be with you."
   She rolled her eyes and looked up to the sky.  She grimaced then sat on
his lap.
   "Are you still in pain?"
   "Every once in a while.  It passes."
   "Has anyone hurt you?"
   "Not in a way I needed help with."
   "Suppose you need my help tonight?"
   She shook her head.  "I won't."
   "All right."
   The reversal of tactics worked in his favor.  Yeasmine checked in every
couple days, even spent a night or two with him.
   Some days, however, she barely opened her eyes or got out of bed.
   By afternoon he tugged the covers off her head.  "Get up."
   "I want to be left alone."
   "I did that yesterday.  Now I want to tell you a story." He lay in bed
behind her.  "There was once a girl named Mika, high in beauty, low in
smarts.  For this reason, many thought her a tart, but the truth is so much
sweeter."
   Antonio continue to tell his story, changing his voice to represent the
other characters in his ridiculous rhyming tale.
   "What is this here?" He said is a high falsetto.  "This baton is so
short and stubby.  You could barely hurt a child with ...  oh my, it
connects to his body."
   Yeasmine yanked the covers back, a half smile on her face.
   He carried on with the bawdy tale, using all manner of props and acting
out the parts now that she was watching.
   Toward the end she sat up, chin in her fists, laughing and giggling.
   "And that is how Mika, with as much weight as a rainbow, delayed the
attack and became the champion of her village."
   She applauded and laughed.  "Do you know another?"
   "I do, but," he extended his hand.  "We'll go for a stroll, then I'll
make you a cioccolata calda."
   "I'm not sure I want that."
   "I'm very sure you do."
   ***
   Yeasmine cracked the bedroom door open.  She didn't hear any of the
usual sounds: laughter, music.  She didn't smell burning of food.  A quick
search of the house revealed she was alone.
   No reason to leave.  She went to the den and flipped through the latest
magazines.
   The front door opened.  Yeasmine startled and tripped over a bag on her
way out and into a young man.
   This must have been Roger.  "She's real.  You all right?"
   "Yes, thank you." Yeasmine kept her head down and set the bag upright.
   "I didn't mean to frighten you.  Please," he extended his hand.  "You
don't have to hide."
   She wanted to look up and see if he was lying.  He was trouble.  Of
course he was lying.
   Trouble.  Yeasmine smiled to herself.  Isn't that what she used to be?
   He obviously favored his father, but his youth gave charm to his
roughish features
   Roger sat on the floor beside her, boldly staring at her eyes.  "That is
something else."
   "I'd like to go back to my room now."
   "Ten seconds, please."
   She counted the time down in her head, when she reached eight he kissed
her on the cheek.
   "Good bye, magic creature."
   Yeasmine bit on her lip to keep from laughing as she locked herself in
the room.
   ***
   Antonio hauled firewood into the house with Sam.
   "When this chill thaws," said Sam, "you should give thought to that gold
mine you brought here.  Now, I know a few people on the circuit that would
pay well for her.  We could be set for life off a girl like that."
   "No." Antonio snorted.  "We are not that close."
   "Closer than most.  I'm sure you got something set up.  I'm not trying
to get a big take.  Asking for my piece, here.  If you got a better deal
than the circuit ...  leave me with something for my boy.  I don't want him
living like this."
   "I hear one more word about you doing anything to Yeasmine or catch wind
of you discussing her with anyone, I will rip out your son's heart and
stuff it up your ass." Antonio set the final stack of wood beside the
fireplace.
   "You the boss." Sam muttered.
   -_ Chimera _-
   She curled up with another magazine.  These had drawings that were good
enough to get a good idea of what was happening.  In time, perhaps this
summer, she'd learn to read and understand stories in other books.
   "That's my chair you're sitting in," said Sam.
   "Thanks." She flipped the page.
   "Sassy piece.  Marini has you going feral, running out all hours of the
day, not bringing anything back.  People work hard for what little they
have.  Do you know you could be helping rather than be a burden on him?"
   She flipped the page.  A burden on Antonio?  She grinned.
   "Get some proper clothes on, remember how to act like a lady.  You could
bring in steady money, but you lying around like a barn cat."
   "You think you the first man with a real clever idea, don't you?  Think
you the first to price me to a carnival or some old soft-hands?  Didn't
happen for them, and it won't work for you."
   "I don't take kindly to cadgers."
   "I don't take nothing from you."
   'Fight trouble with trouble.'
   Sam got closer and hardened his expression.  "You ain't giving much
either."
   "Get away from me!" Yeasmine screamed.
   "Who all that screaming for, girl?  Only you and me in this house."
   "Roger!" She bellowed.
   Sam frowned and looked over his shoulder.  "The hell you calling that
piece of shit for?  You put your filthy hands on my son?"
   "Mister, please.  I'll go back in the room.  Get away from me."
   "Who owns that slip of yours?  Who you sneaking out to lay with?"
   "I don't belong to anyone." She pushed him out of her way and ran.
   Sam grabbed her and spun her around.  "There you go, wild cat." He
trapped her on the floor.  "Want me to treat you like a mountain lion?" He
pressed his erection into her hip.  "You want me to fight for it?  I will.
Damn right, I will."
   "Dad, what are you doing?"
   "Get out of here, boy.  Go on!"
   Yeasmine stared at Roger, the plea in her eyes.  He called her a magical
creature, like one of those large-breasted winged creatures in the
magazine. Were they his?  Did he believe it?
   She pressed her face to Sam's neck.  Tugged with all her might on his
energy.  She believed it, and all she had to do was show Roger that it was
true.
   "Are you crazy girl?  You can't take from me.  Stop being a brat.  I'll
make it good.  I'm kind to good girls."
   Roger had left, but she could make out his leg in the shadows.
   "I said stop!" His body trembled over hers.  "Hey.  Hold on.  Girl.  You
can't, can't." His skin turned cool and breath shallow.
   He collapsed beside her and Yeasmine struggled to free her leg.
   Roger rushed into the room, but not toward her.  He pulled a box from a
thin closet and pulled out a gun.
   She held her breath for several seconds, thinking he would point it at
her, but he put it under his father's chin.
   Sam came to and attempted to jerk away from the cold cylinder.
   "Roger," she said, "he's daiva.  "He'll recover fast."
   The loud pop made all sounds quieter for several seconds.  He took her
hand and led her to the bathroom.
   Roger set the gun down and rinsed his hand.  Yeasmine looked back to the
door.  His father's body lay bleeding in the den.  What would become of
her?
   'A beautiful terror.'
   She grinned and wiped her damp palms on her clothes.  When Roger
finished she hugged him and kissed him on the neck.  "I need to thank you."
   He leaned back.  "You already have."
   "I need you."
   "Yeah?"
   "You have proven yourself worthy." She slipped under the covers of his
bed and took off her clothes.  "Please?"
   "I heard you call me." He stroked his cock on the way to the bed.
   Yeasmine ducked under the covers and got her laughter under control.
   ***
   Antonio crinkled his nose.  The smell of death and the sound of
laughter. Bad signs.
   He found Sam on the floor, drool seeping out the side of his mouth, eyes
unfocused.
   The laughter led him Roger, bucking away inside Yeasmine, bed creaking.
His crazed laughter was interspersed with high moans.  "So close," he
whined, then laughed.  "So fucking close."
   He left her to it and went to take care of Sam.
   ***
   Yeasmine drank the young man's energy deep.  It was rich, like her
memory of warm cake fused with the decadence of Antonio's hot chocolate. 
She curled up to his body with a smile.
   For once the pain was not just diminished, but forgotten.  She must have
been taking too little energy, sparing herself the full meal.  Yeasmine
scratched down the young man's chest.  He was still breathing.
   That meant there was a little more yet to get.
   ***
   Yeasmine entered the living room swaying with a languid smile on her
face, lost in the rapture.  Antonio had seen that serene expression on
daiva before.  Typically at a party that flew in the face of the rules that
governed them.
   She smirked at him through heavy lids.  The color in her eyes seemed to
glow.
   "Did you kill him too?"
   "Of course.  He shot his father."
   "Who would have died in seconds anyway.  We warned you about draining."
   She shook her head.  "It worked." She giggled and ran her hands up and
down her body.  "I feel so good right now.  My eyes, my ears." Another soft
laugh.  As she leaned back, her lower stomach protruded through the fabric.
   "I can't protect you when you do things like this."
   "They had to die." She swayed and shimmied to music only she could hear.
Her giggles rose in fits, some as soft as a whisper.
   "There is a difference, lady, in how the deed must be done."
   "Oh." She stretched out on the couch, grimaced, then hopped up.  "I need
to clean up.  We'll hire people willing to work for a hot meal."
   "You need to stay hidden."
   "I need to be home, so people need to come here." She slung her arm back
toward the den and pointed.  "Clean up my mess.  I will clean the house."
   Throughout the day, she cleaned with little more than a bucket of hot
water and a pile of cloth rags.  Room after room, she created a large pile
old clothing.  Washed, wrung it out, and hung it to dry.
   Antonio finished the task set to him then disposed himself to her.  He
was her helping hand, taking the sharply given orders without complaint.
   Who was this woman?  Not the confused, melancholy girl he had been
striving to cheer up.
   Sun set on their work and the small house had been transformed.
   Yeasmine stretched and yawned.
   He had disregarded the bulge earlier that day.  The bulge, realization
that she never wore any of her old dresses.  She took to stealing heavy
shirts, men's pants, and thick socks for weeks.
   "See you tomorrow."
   "Where are you going?  You've had a long day.  Sit down."
   "I'm stopping by the train yard.  This is a great time."
   Antonio walked over and framed her face in his hands.  "This is a
dangerous path you're walking.  You need to stop."
   "I'm telling you what I need!  Let go of me."
   "Wait.  Let me look."
   She scowled at him.  "What?"
   "You don't look right."
   She pulled away and look down at herself.  "Did I get something on me?"
   "How have you been feeling?"
   "Normal aches.  A bone deep cramp that was gone most of today, but now
it's back.  Shoulders hurt, legs ache.  I won't drain anyone else.  They
had to die." She shrugged out of his hold.
   "Yeasmine," he shook his head.  "This isn't normal."
   "I ain't normal." She glowered at him.
   He stepped aside and opened the door.  "When you come back, get some
rest.  Thank you.  The house looks lovely."
   "Welcome," she muttered as she stomped toward the door.
   ***
   Antonio ushered Tiara inside.  He had been on edge all day, unsure if he
would be punished for not taking action regarding Yeasmine's behavior
sooner.  Tiara would know what to do.
   "Have you considered that she is chasing the rush?  That's why we teach
restraint."
   "I thought that, I really did, but I think she needs it."
   "Where is she?"
   "Out.  She'll be back by sundown.  She's been good about coming back
lately."
   "You should have tossed her in a river bed.  She's either mad, broken,
or both.  Everyone is not cut out for this gift.  You don know what you've
done to her.  I doubt either of you took the time to learn her origin."
   "I know some." Antonio scowled and folded his arms.  "Much as she knows,
anyway."
   "I agreed to examine her.  Tell me the rest of her symptoms."
   "She can get full of bile: moody, irritable, combative.  Other times she
sleeps the day out, spends it in the woods, or pours over books she can't
read."
   Tiara sighed heavily.  "Physical symptoms."
   "Pale."
   "Her complexion has no pallor."
   "For her complexion.  She looks ill, ashen.  Other days, she is as
beautiful as the day we found her.  I don't know if it's physical, Tiara.
Forget her volcanic humor.  She talks to herself, rambling, but only when
she thinks I'm not around."
   Tiara walked through the house.  "Veronica passed, so Kara is overseas.
Kevin and I were thinking about--"
   The front door opened and closed.  "Miss Tiara," Yeasmine greeted with a
smile.  "Pleased to see you again." She pulled the scarf from her head and
shook out her radiant bounty of curls.
   "Good evening, Yeasmine.  It is a pleasure."
   "May I offer you something to drink?" She walked into the kitchen.  "I
keep distilled water in the icebox.  I could put on some for you with a bit
of mint."
   "I would be delighted." Tiara glanced to Antonio.
   He shrugged.  "It's really good."
   "It's the only thing that helps settle my stomach." Yeasmine said as she
put the kettle on to boil.  "Did Miss Kara change her mind?  Can I?" She
shook her head.  "I don't want to go back, but I do hope that she forgives
me."
   "Only Kara can grant that news.  Antonio asked me over to see you.  How
have you been?"
   Yeasmine set out three tea cups and pulled three mint leaves from the
plant in the window sill.  "Last frost should be soon.  Winter has been
rough on me."
   "Yes.  You have it fortunate in these tropical climes.  I've braved
worse winters.  Have you ever been in the snow?"
   "Seen a frost-cover or two, but no snow.  I don't have any people up
north, and it ain't safe to travel no way.  Is it pretty, snow?"
   "From a distance." Tiara smiled.
   Yeasmine took the boiling water off the fire and poured them each a cup.
"Give it a moment before you drink."
   "Chantal used to make this," said Tiara and she breathed in the vapors.
"Did you ever meet her?"
   Antonio shook his head.
   "She took her inspiration from the process of making infusions, but
rather than applying them for medicinal use." She paused to take another
deep breath of the steaming water and smiled.  "She made these waters as
rich as any wine.  Others mistook her attention to detail for 'watery
teas.' They were such a treat to drink.  I miss her."
   Yeasmine sipped from her cup.  "What happened?"
   "She was executed for crimes against the crown." Tiara sipped from her
cup.  "Cast iron pot?"
   Yeasmine nodded.  "Yes.  What did your friend use?"
   "I never learned." Tiara took another sip then set the cup down.  "How
have you been, Yeasmine?  Not just now, overall."
   Yeasmine seemed to buzz with thought rather than reflect.  Her eyes
jumped from object to object around the room.  Antonio and Tiara sipped
their drink as they waited.
   Her eyes settled on Tiara.  "I don't hurt as much I used to, but the
ache can get bad if I don't feed."
   Tiara caught a flicker of something lethal in her eyes.  She remembered
the girl well enough: naive, crude, but she had changed.  "May I examine
you?"
   Several seconds passed.  "Yes." Yeasmine set her cup down and worked the
buttons of her coat.  "We can go to my room."
   "Please, lie down on your back."
   Once Yeasmine was comfortable, Tiara closed her eyes and felt her face,
pressed her fingertips to her cheeks.  She felt along her shoulders and
arms, chest, stomach, and legs.  She examined her hair, eyes, skin, and
muscles.
   "You seem swollen," she whispered.  "You may feel a tingling sensation
or a coldness.  I'm using my qua to look deeper.  It will feel different
than the healing touch."
   Yeasmine nodded.
   Tiara took a deep breath and extended her energy out all over Yeasmine's
body.  Tiara screamed and stumbled backwards, fell to the floor.
   Antonio burst in the the room.  "What's going on?"
   "No." Tiara got to her feet and put a hand to her racing heart.  She
shook her head and paced the room at the foot of Yeasmine's bed.
   "Will you--"
   "Get out." Tiara pushed him out and leaned on the closed door.  She
chuckled, then laughed.  "I'm so sorry child." She wiped her hair from her
face.  "I think I let my imagination get away with me." She closed her eyes
and reached out, probed each area.  "Yeasmine?"
   "Is this what has you upset?" Yeasmine pulled up the hem of her shirt.
   Tiara gripped the door knob in order to keep her balance.  "May I?"
   Yeasmine nodded.
   Tiara pushed away from the door and kneeled on the bed.  Several times
she extended her trembling hand to touch the swell of the girl's belly,
until finally, her fingers settled and caressed her.
   "Is there something wrong?"
   Tiara stared at her with wide eyes.  "You are with child."
   "Well, I sure ain't bloated."
   Tiara blinked.  "I told you.  Daiva do not have children.  It's ... 
possible." Tiara giggled nervously and put a hand to her lips.  "Your
injuries.  The pain.  You've felt this since the day he paired you?"
   Yeasmine nodded.  "Figured it would go away in time."
   "Have you hurt yourself lately?"
   "Cut myself on some fencing a week back."
   "How long did it take to heal?"
   "About three days.  Pretty fast huh?"
   "Fast," she grinned and nodded.  "Come on.  Let's go absolve Antonio of
his worries."
   "You gonna tell him?" Yeasmine whispered harshly.
   "Yes.  Why wouldn't I?"
   "I ...  it's been ...  it's bad luck to say anything till you can see
it."
   "No.  No, my dear.  This is nothing to hide.  This," Tiara's hand
hovered over her belly.  "Is your qua.  You can say something.  Most of us
don't make it past a second moon."
   Yeasmine shook her head and covered her belly.  "Don't," she whispered.
"I'll find some place to go before my time is due.  He's done enough."
   "Give him a chance.  He cares for you.  He's been worried sick."
   "Fine."
   Yeasmine and Tiara found Antonio in the living room.
   "What happened?"
   Yeasmine shrugged uncomfortably.  She looked at Tiara, but she was
waiting.  "You know how you always saying I'm trouble?"
   "Yes."
   She framed her belly with her hands.  "More trouble."
   Antonio looked at Tiara.  "That's macabre, especially for you."
   Tiara turned back to Yeasmine.  "Are you killing people?"
   "No, not any more." She sneered at Antonio.  "I'm careful."
   "Shit," Antonio jumped to his feet.  "How?  You said it couldn't
happen."
   Tiara nodded and practically bounced on her feet.  "I can't believe
this." She giggled.  "I need more information.  You had begun your menses?"
   "What?"
   "To bleed?"
   "Oh," Yeasmine nodded.  "Yeah, last summer."
   "I think you may have been with child when you were paired."
   "You wait a hot damn minute!" The fury seemed to pour from her and fill
the room.  "I may be a lot of things, but I was no." She closed her eyes,
her mouth, and took a short breath.  "No."
   "You never lay with Dante?"
   "Or any other." She lowered her head.  "Before them."
   "Anything you want to share?" Tiara turned an accusing look to Antonio.
   "It was just us three.  She never left our care, but you've tested all
of us.  If this was possible, plenty of babies would be in this world. 
Believe me."
   "You're the youngest," said Tiara.  "If this is in any way possible, it
has to be yours."
   "Kevin is her mater!"
   "I don't care!" Yeasmine snarled.  "Can't do nothing with you anyway. 
What we going to do?  Get married?  Can't do that.  Don't you worry about
me.  I can hide myself and a baby just fine on my own."
   "You will not be on your own." Tiara took both of Yeasmine's hands in
hers.  "I will help you.  I will stop by as often as possible, once a week.
We will do this together.  Whatever you do, do not go to anyone else."
   "As if I could."
   "Yes, I know.  Even if you were the privileged class, no one is better
suited to help you than I am." Tiara pressed a kissed to Yeasmine's cheek.
"Anything you need," she whispered.  "I'll help you."
   <->
   Epilogue: This series was originally called Infinity and Forever.  I
wrote the first draft of this story at the ripe age of twelve.  The written
dates refer to its current state.  The original was about vampires and
contained significantly less sex and far more violence.
Written: 1992, 2012, March 2015
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
01_Evolution