Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Infestation, Part 2 of 4
   Occult Horror
   <->
   -_ Response _Aiden was out the car before the engine turned off.  Greg
didn't bother telling him to slow down or stop as he barreled toward the
front door of the small house.  Nothing could make him forget the little
cinnamon girl.  None of the other births, his own education, new members -
these things only gave them a few weeks of solace before he asked for word
on the rogue members.
   Aiden never cared about anyone who left the House of Garai as much as
them.  It didn't come as a surprise to Greg.  When it came to Aiden, Zaira
had a special hold on him, but Skylar had taken the girl and gone.  They
couldn't accept any calls for fear that the guardians had infiltrated them.
Greg had a responsibility to protect the secrets of the house.
   It was the Zorient messenger that finally got them out the house.  The
servant of Garai had come bearing information from the most unexpected
source: Preston.  Preston was never a whole hearted member, but he'd been
devoted and obedient.  He loved Zaira, if not the house, and was worried
for her safety.  The girl was healthy, but Skylar had died in her sleep
months ago.
Greg had never seen proof of the pull on energy demanded by Zorients. 
He had faith.  Children touched by the Zorients demanded the energy of
others.  They fed off the life force, not like a mythical vampire, but like
a sponge.  Drawing it from people whether they touched them or not.
   Zaira needed to be back with her family, and they had ignored Preston's
calls at one of their own's peril.
   Frank and Greg gathered their bags and walked up to the open house. 
Aiden had let himself into the dark, dank, musty smelling home.
   "Preston?"
   "He's in the kitchen." Aiden yelled from elsewhere in the house.  The
thirteen year old ran from one room to the other.
   Greg went into the kitchen and found an emaciated shell of a man,
sitting upright as if by some act of suspension.  Gaunt face, pale, drawn,
thinning hair.  Though he was sitting in the kitchen, grime and mold
covered most of the dirty dishes.
   Cloudy blue eyes roamed in their direction, but did not focus.
   Frank reached into his bag and pulled out the thermos he prepared, but
cast Greg a questioning look.  Nothing in that thermos was going to help
him now.  Each second that his chest rattled with breath and his heart
circulated blood was another second of a medical miracle.
   "Where is she?!" Aiden screeched as he thundered into the kitchen.
   Preston's body swayed a little.
   "Where is she?  Where is she?  Where is she?!"
   "Aiden."
   "You should have answered when he called!  I heard that he was calling
others?  Why didn't you tell them to go to him?  What kind of leader are
you when you can't keep our family together?  Find her!" Aiden stormed out
the kitchen again.
   "Preston, I do wish you would have used the calling sooner.  I don't
know what drove you away from us, but we need to find her.  Zaira is beyond
precious.  The Zorient chose the bodies of Aiden and her for a reason, and
protecting them is our sacred duty.  A pact was made."
   The muscles of Preston's skeletal face moved, his mouth opened.  His
words were dry and raspy, but clear.  "The pact will hold."
   "Your blood will see it true?" Aiden had returned without the fury and
fire.  He leaned on the frame of the kitchen and living room threshold, his
arms crossed over his chest.  He held a photo of Zaira in his hand.
   From what Greg could see of the photo, she was growing into a stunning
little girl.  He could see Skylar's expressive eyes and what had been
Preston's intense gaze belying the man's intelligence.
   "Use my ...  blood to see it true.  Her protection is why I live."
   Aiden slipped the photo into his back pocket.  He frowned at the thermos
in Frank's hand.  "Put that away.  Both of you get out of here.  There are
bags near the door.  Take them to the car."
   The men nodded and headed for the door.
   ***
   Preston wasn't as far gone as he looked.  He felt as if he were waiting,
for something, for his baby to come home, for his wife to walk up to him
with her beaming smile.  He remembered her as she was in those first years
together: alluring, seductive, charming.  She was a fount of intoxicating
beauty.
Each day he looked at Zaira, he saw more of his love: transformed,
distilled, improved - for better or worse, she was their daughter, the best
of both of them, and he made a pact...
   Aiden leaned on the table facing him, his hands bracing his weight. 
Preston caught the boy's gaze and held it.  No force could make him look
away, not even his own weakness.
   Aiden's sedate brown eyes had changed, darkened.  His were not the eyes
of a young man.  There was something that had nothing to do with Elizabeth
or Greg or any of the members of Garai inside him.  It came to the surface,
crawling its way up through the skin of a child and stared at him with cold
fury.
   Blood will see it true.
   "You promised to protect her.  I will hold you to that." Aiden
pronounced each word as if for the first time in a voice more patient and
even than the tantrum throwing teen moments ago.  "With your blood, you
will feed her.  With your soul, you will send out the servants to act on
her behalf.  This is the pact you made."
   "My blood will see it true."
   "Yes," Aiden hissed as the blade sank into Preston's gut.  "It will."
   Preston looked down, but there was no blade.  Aiden had not moved.  His
eyes had gone pitch black.  Another hollow pain, this one in Preston's
back. Warmth and wet soaked his clothes, pooled in the chair.  Preston felt
nothing save for the jabs as an invisible spear ran him through.
   With his last breath, Preston gave his oath.  "Protect her ...  see it
true."
   -_ Retribution _Madeline opened her eyes in the night.  She didn't have
to look at a clock.  Zaira had a better internal clock than anything she
needed to consult.  She knew it was only a couple hours after she fell
asleep.
   As long as they weren't driving, Zaira was more well behaved than when
they first set out on the road.  The more miles they put on, the more she
came to realize the inevitable.
   Zaira's habit of screaming to wake her, that's the way Madeline saw it,
never stopped.  Zaira screamed whether she was asleep or wake herself.  She
could tell by the sound of this one that she had been asleep.
   The screams stopped just as suddenly as they began.
   Rustling on the other side of the room.
   Madeline held her breath.  Her ears went on high alert.  She tried to
scan the room from her position, but her back was to the sound.
   It rustled on the floor, then clicked, scraped - all of it too soft and
low to make an identification.  Did this place have rats?  Was it a huge
insect?  A grasshopper caught in a bit of trash?
   These were the things her brain tried to come up with to fill the void,
but each of her guesses fell short: too small, too inadequate for what she
heard.
   It had started near the window, but the occasional rustle-click neared
the beds.
   There was something in the room, something much larger than any rat or
insect.
   "Zaira?" Madeline whispered.  Her soft call wouldn't have woken the
child even if they shared a bed.  Lately when Zaira fell asleep, she stayed
that way for several hours, undisturbed by anything.  Perhaps Madeline had
guessed wrong, maybe Zaira was awake and trying to play a joke on her.
   But Zaira had never made those noises, even when she was attempting to
be her most annoying.
   The shadow of the street light moved.  That meant the curtains moved, by
a thing large enough to move curtains.
   Madeline closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her head.  She felt
exactly Zaira's age: a young girl, afraid and paralyzed by the unknown. 
What was it?  What was it doing?
   She didn't get out of bed, didn't move, didn't call out the stupidest
question of them all: who's there?  She learned better than to get up in
the night.  Zaira enjoyed laying traps for her - upturned objects,
obstacles for her to trip over.
   If this was one of Zaira's games, then she wasn't going to play along.
   What if Zaira's in danger?
   Madeline fell asleep before she could complete the apathetic response.
   Morning came too soon.
   She pulled the covers back just enough to peek out.  Everything looked
normal.  No large holes in the walls, no clothes strewn everywhere as if a
bomb had been placed inside their bags.  Madeline sat up.
   Zaira sat cross-legged in the middle of the other bed eating a breakfast
bar.
   No damage.  No mess.  No screaming.
   Madeline looked on the floor beside her bed.  Nothing.  Maybe Zaira had
a toy and pulled it along in the night, trying to make her get up.
   With a great yawn, Madeline shuffled to the bathroom.  She was going to
need some coffee before they got on the road.  She was in a race against
sleep deprivation, but home was only ...  well, a half day's drive if she
were by herself, but with Zaira, Madeline could only stay on the road for
three or four hours before she started to act up.
   What if there were another way?
   Zaira didn't look like she was going to misbehave today, but the little
sleep terrorist had a way of looking innocent even at her worse.
   "Will you be okay here while I run an errand?"
   "I need another notebook.  Three different color markers.  Different
from what I have.  My black marker doesn't work."
   "Anything else?"
   Zaira looked up from her intent fascination with the dry breakfast in
her hand.  That hateful look was anything but innocent.  Madeline could
take her back to those weirdos that turned her into such a spoiled little
shit in such a short time.
   Not a chance.
   "I won't be long." Madeline slipped into a pair of track pants and a
hoodie.
   ***
   They only made it three hours.  While Madeline was operating on fumes,
Zaira seemed to be in rare form.  She wouldn't keep her seat belt on,
bounced from one side of the back seat to the other.
   "Zaira, if you can sit still for a straight twenty minutes, then I will
stop at the first motel I find."
   Zaira stared at her through the rearview mirror in mid crawl.  "I have
before me a pact?"
   "Yes.  Twenty minutes.  Sit."
   She looked at the display, then back at Madeline's reflection, then she
sat down, moving slowly.
   The first motel turned out to be in a small town, but she kept to her
word.  Zaira's insistence that 'The pact will hold; blood will see it true'
had more to do with it than any loyalty to bargains made with a six year
old.
   They checked in and she left the girl to the cartoons.  Madeline was
half mad on her shopping trip, but Zaira proved that her plan had merit. 
The idea of actually using the items on Zaira made Madeline die a little
inside.  She didn't want to do that to a child, no matter how ill-behaved.
Zaira was only a little girl, a girl in need of love and discipline and
consistency.
   Phillip and Roselyn, the neighbors on the other side of that wall, were
not amused by Zaira's antics.  As soon as Madeline had fallen asleep the
girl had taken to kicking the wall.
   "You need to make her stop."
   Madeline wanted desperately for Zaira to stop.  The fact that she
slurred this to the couple made her think of Preston for a moment.  She
felt like she could crawl up on the floor for a nap, and that no force in
the world could get her back on her feet.
   What did they say caused Skylar's death?
   "I promise we'll be out of here shortly.  I just ...  I need to get a
nap first."
   Zaira didn't believe in things like leaving others in peace.
   "She just lost her parents.  I apologize.  We'll be gone soon."
   Sleep was out.  She got a bag full of food and brought it to the room,
complete with a fruit slush drink for Zaira.  Madeline took the sedative
out the trunk, crushed it, and stirred it into the drink.
   Madeline didn't feel bad at all anymore.  The last bits of her
reservations died.
   Something dark, as tall as a person, passed by her, but she looked up
and around the car.  Nobody.
   She carried the meal back to the room.
   Zaira beamed and bounced down from the bed.  "I'll be quiet," she said
with a large grin as her hands stretched out for the offering of junk food.
   Madeline set it all before her and lay down.
   The girl was a voracious eater.  She wolfed down the meal and slurped
the last of the drink in under ten minutes.
   She didn't have long to wait.  Zaira curled up like a puppy.  Though she
was falling asleep, she stared at Madeline.  Stared, but didn't say
anything, her expression placid.
   Just a few minutes more and those bright brown eyes would close.  Zaira
could fight sleep all she wanted, but there was no fighting medication.
   Madeline made another trip back to the car and opened the trunk.  She
pulled out the rope and tape.  With a heavy heart, she lay them on the bed
beside the girl.
   Zaira was sleep.  Wasn't that good enough?
   It wasn't.  The vision of her waking and throwing yet another fit in the
car when she was too close to home was more than she could take.  Madeline
could barely drive under those conditions when she was rested.
   She bound the girl's ankles, then her knees.  Then she wrapped her in a
blanket and tied her wrists together.  Rope, blanket, tape, seat belt. 
Madeline wiped the tears from her cheek with her shoulder with a blank
expression.  Zaira brought this on herself.  She could still talk and
scream up a storm, so Madeline would knew she was all right.
   She knocked back the quad shot of espresso and pulled onto the road. 
They would be home soon.  Everything would be all right.  After a single
stop to refuel, she wouldn't have to stop again.
   Soon after that, she would need to get a sedative prescription for
Zaira. That girl was too highly strung, probably had a behavioral disorder.
   Madeline ached to make a phone call and get the process started, but she
had lost her charger.  While she was out buying a new one, Zaira destroyed
the phone.
   None of it mattered.  Madeline would get her niece home and provide the
girl with the proper amount of love, attention, and discipline.
   She glanced into the rearview mirror and frowned.  She thought she saw
something back there.  She turned and glanced into the back seat.  All she
saw was Zaira, wrapped securely in the blanket.
   The feeling passed, but she kept checking the mirror, looking for a stow
away passenger.
   ***
   Zaira had spent enough time in a car to know that she was moving.  She
couldn't remember getting in.  She had planned to bite Madeline this time.
Her body felt warm, tight, and wet with sweat.
   The back window was down, but she didn't like that.  It messed her hair
and tossed the pages of her notebook.
   Zaira tried to sit up, but she couldn't move.  She rolled her head back
and looked out the window.  She was too far down to see if there were other
cars on the road with them.  All she could see was the waving line of
trees.
   An image in the passenger seat drew her attention.  It was like one of
those images under the surface of the water, wavering and distorted, but it
turned and the image cleared.
   It crawled into the back seat.  Madeline kept driving as if nothing was
happening.  Zaira tried to back away, but she couldn't move, couldn't get
away from the thing getting closer to her.  As frightened as Zaira was, she
didn't shout.
   It put a long, thin finger to its dark lips and when it smiled, full
lips parted to reveal gleaming white teeth.
   Zaira offered a nervous smile in return.
   The thing made a soft clicking noise as it looked over her predicament.
Two long-fingered hands set upon her knots and restraints, loosening each
one without letting Madeline know.
   Zaira's smile was genuine this time.  Whatever this thing was, it helped
her.
   ***
   "Where are we?"
   Madeline nearly ran the car off the road.  Gravel pinged on the under
carriage.  She hadn't expected the girl to be awake, much less speaking.
   No screaming, no crying.  Madeline waited, keeping her eyes on the road.
   Shifting, scraping.
   Madeline checked the mirror again, but all she could see was her feet.
There wasn't any way Zaira could make those sounds.
   "Where are we?"
   More shifting and turning.
   "What are you doing back there?" Madeline angled the mirror down.  There
was something moving, and it had to be Zaira.
   The car swerved a little, but she righted it, then glanced back.
   There was only one other car on the road about half a mile back.  She
hoped the driver didn't put a call in to the patrol.
   A thud from the back seat.  Madeline couldn't see Zaira's legs anymore.
   "Zaira?  Shit, girl.  Are you okay?" Madeline swiveled the mirror, but
she had to right it to pay more attention to the road.  "Zaira, please
answer me, honey." She needed to pull over, but there was a bridge just
ahead.  She glanced behind her.  "When I cross this bridge, I'll check on
you."
   Madeline eased her hand back, trying to feel for the girl.  "Zaira..."
She screamed as she felt teeth sink into her arm.  Blood gushed from the
wound and a flap of flesh exposed the nerves to the air.  "Fuck!" First her
rage was for Zaira, but given the size of the wound, from her pinky to her
wrist, there was no way the girl could have bitten her.
   The pain shot up her forearm to her shoulder, burning a path to her
heart.  Madeline's vision swam and she swerved off the road.
   The horizon turned on its side.
   -_ Meredith and Quint _-
   "Slow down," Meredith put her hand on the dash board in front of her.
   "I see it." Quint put on the breaks anyway.  The car in front of them
weaved for the second time.
   "Try flashing the lights.  Maybe someone is falling asleep."
   "Think the first one would have woke them up."
   They each gasped as the car made its final swerve, hit the bridge
railing, and flipped into the air.  The car came down hard on its side just
at the foot of the bridge.
   Meredith hit redial on the sheriff's number entered.  "Yes, it's me
again.  Bad news.  The car went over.  Is Chuck on his way?  Blackwater
Bayou.  Yes.  No." Meredith stage whispered to Quint.  "I'll stay on the
line.  Go see if anyone needs help."
   Quint parked the car and turned on the emergency lights.  The moment he
opened the door, a child's cry rang out.  Meredith tossed the phone aside
and hopped out the car.  She ran over to the wreckage, oblivious to her
husband yelling as she passed him.
   She followed the sound to the rear of the car.  A little thing, mixed
race, with the bloodied face of a sad cherub.
   She checked the front and went nauseous.  The woman was dead, the branch
had gone through the windshield of her body.  Blood poured from the woman
down onto the child.
   "Come here, darling." Meredith pulled stuff out the way until she could
reach the girl.
   She quieted and focused on Meredith.  The girl clung to her, wrapping
her body tight around the older's woman's.  She wiped her bloody face back
and forth over Meredith's shirt.
   Quint's eyes were as large as the moon as Meredith climbed the
embankment with the girl in arms.
   The Jacobs had lost their son at the age of 24 to a car accident.  No
one had been there for him.  No one had seen him go over the edge.  He had
been found three days later on a country road.
   The sheriff showed up with an ambulance right behind him.  The girl
refused to let go, hanging onto Meredith's neck and squealing when anyone
tried to touch her.  Meredith sat in the ambulance with Zaira in her lap
while they checked her.
   The accident had left her completely unscathed.  She had taken a few
mouthfuls of blood, but mostly seemed shocked by the tragedy.
   "Bring her to the clinic when she calms down," the medic said to
Meredith.
   "Will do."
   "Seems you've made a friend." Sheriff Charles Boyd tipped his hat to
Quint as he assessed the scene.
   "She was in terrible condition, but a hell of a grip.  Let us get her
back home and clean her up.  The clinic or the station is no place for a
her right now."
   Sheriff Boyd rounded Meredith to look over her shoulder.  "What's your
name honey?"
   The girl buried into Meredith's bosom.
   "I'll call you when I find out." She eased closer to the Sheriff.  "She
was tied in the backseat.  Tape, rope."
   He nodded curtly.  "I saw.  When you have her talking, let me know."
   ***
   The Guardians were a self-appointed deprogramming institution to help
those taken in by the dangerous occult group called the House of Garai.  As
protectors of the human race, they believed that the house's teachings were
to blame for the rash of defective births.  Though not all births had been
defective, the stories surrounding their abuse were harrowing.
   Guardian Vincent had been assigned to find a missing girl and her
parents, important members of the House Garai.
   "Gordon?" Vincent said into the phone.  "I'm inside the house now.  They
weren't giving us the run around.  We're too late to help these people.  We
didn't have anyone on the inside working on them." He tied the booties on
his shoes and stepped through the window.  "No, worse than that, dead."
   He searched the empty house.  Two months ago, Preston was found inside
this home, his body emaciated and bloodied.  According to the coroner's
report, someone had torn the man apart after he was already frail.  Cause
of death was deemed natural, but it alerted the authorities to the
disappearance of the child.
   "I found the room," Preston pushed open the door and was awash in a sea
of yellow and blue.  Cloth dolls lay scattered on the shelf, a box lay on
its side.  The place had been worked over well, hardly anything precious
remained.  "How long was Preston a member?"
   Vincent opened and closed the drawers, looking for anything to give him
a clue as to the girl's identity.  "All right then, this child must have
been..." Older.  That's what he needed to hear, what he needed to be true.
   He found a birthday card.
   "Bad news just got worse.  She was born in the house.  These books and
toys are suited for a child twice her age, no mental deficiency.  I don't
see any pictures, but I'll keep looking.  Her name is Zaira."
   ***
   Zaira flipped the page on a book she'd already read three times over. 
She sat at Meredith's feet while they watched television.  She wasn't
reading the book or watching the movie.  She could see the creature much
clearer now, at any time of day.
   It was watching the television with avid interest.
   None of them knew anything about her family or the house.  They had no
way to get her back home.  After three days of crying and sleeping, she
decided to spend her time with them.
   That morning she had left her room and found the older couple in a room
with glass walls, filled with plants, and the sound of finches.
   Meredith noticed her first.  She waved, smiled.  She didn't notice the
tall, thin creature standing behind her.  Zaira had come to terms with the
fact that it was only something she could see.
   "My name is Zaira, Z-A-I-R-A."
   "Come join us, Zaira." Meredith got up and took another tiny white cup
down and set it before her.
   Zaira expected more questions, but she wasn't sure how to handle them.
When Madeline asked questions, Preston told her not to worry about it.  She
wasn't sure that answer would work on them.
   "You're just in time for tea," Meredith poured tea into a cup.  "This is
a blend of black tea leaves, licorice, basil, and peppermint.  It has an
intense flavor, so sip it.  Give it some time before you decide whether you
like it or not."
   Zaira pulled cup closer to her.  Why wasn't she firing off all the
questions she had the first day she got here?  Didn't she care anymore?
   The first thing Zaira tasted was ...  weird and then a different kind of
weird, but it was okay.  She took one sip after another.  "It tastes a
bunch of ways."
   "Those are called notes.  Each taste is full of a variety of flavor.  Do
you like it?"
   "Dunno." She took another sip.
   "That's okay too.  Tomorrow we'll try something different until you find
one you like."
   Zaira looked over to Quint, then back at Meredith.  There didn't seem to
be anyone else in the house though it had many rooms.  They didn't have a
family, no one to help them with the responsibilities.
   "I know you don't want to talk about it, but may I ask you one
question?"
   Zaira shook her head.
   "Okay," said Meredith.
   Zaira's head snapped up.  It was that easy?
   "When you're ready." Meredith smiled and sipped from her tea.
   Zaira woke each day, had morning tea and breakfast while listening to
finches and smelling the blooming flowers.
   Quint and Meredith became her teachers.  She learned how to garden, do
math, and perform science from Quint.  Meredith taught her how a house is
maintained and how to care for animals.
   Weeks later, Zaira only wanted to forget.  She didn't want anyone to
think she had anything to do with Madeline's accident.  She heard Sheriff
Boyd tell Meredith that he believed Zaira was kidnapped.
   They took her to see a doctor and he ran all kinds of tests, asked
questions, but Zaira didn't know what he was talking about.  She didn't
know about vaccines, shots, records, or illnesses.
   "If I knew your last name, that might make your records easier to find."
   "I only have my name.  Zaira."
   "What about your mother or father?"
   "Mommy and daddy?"
   "Yes, who were they?"
   Zaira shrugged.  "Mommy and daddy are dead.  I don't remember their
second name."
   "What about their first names?"
   "They are dead.  Calling their first name won't bring them back."
   Last night, Zaira had overheard Meredith and Quint talking about why
they needed to keep her.  She liked what they said.  She let her eyes water
and blinked so that the tears would run down her cheeks.
   "That woman took me away from them.  She tied me up and gave me stuff
that made me sleepy."
   The sheriff had even more questions after that, but Zaira shrugged them
off.  She didn't know the answers and the answers she did know, she didn't
want to reveal to him.
   No one ever saw the wide-mouthed, slant eyed, skinny creature that
followed her around, that stayed in her room, that had untied her, that had
slit Madeline's throat and made the blood flow over her body.  Something
else flowed onto Zaira along with the blood, something that made her feel
good, but scared, hyper, excited.  It was like hugging on someone after a
while.
   Because no one saw it, she couldn't describe how the accident happened,
how she became untied, why she remained safe in the car.  It had wrapped
its body around her just before the car turned over.
   "Time for bed, Zaira." Meredith reached down and lifted Zaira into her
arms.  Zaira lay on her shoulder while the woman carried her into her
bedroom.  They had filled it with all the things she liked: notebooks,
coloring paper, a tool set, building blocks, and modeling clay.
   Meredith pulled the covers back and tucked her in, then pulled one large
volume of children's stories into her lap.  She opened the book and began
where the book mark left off.
   Zaira never had someone read her to sleep.  It was much easier than
reading until her eyes closed.  Meredith had a soothing voice.  She even
changed it a little for the different characters.
   The creature crawled onto the bed and snuggled behind Zaira, listening
to the bedtime story along with Zaira.
   "We love you very much, Zaira, and only want to help care for you.  No
matter what the problem is, Quint and I will help you."
   Zaira smiled.  That was a nice thought.
   ***
   Shannon and Richard were good friends of Meredith and Quint for years.
They had been there during the long nights when they were grieving over the
death of their only son.  The visits stopped when Meredith and Quint became
the hot topic in town, saving a little girl, taking her in and caring for
her.  Everyone had come to Richard and Shannon for information about the
accident on Blackwater Bridge.
   The thirst for details grew due to the girl's reluctant nature to speak.
Those who caught a glimpse of her spoke highly of her profound beauty.
   "Shannon, Richard, this is Zaira."
   She was more precious that words could describe.  Her eyes were such a
bright brown that they seemed to shine in her face.  She had warm caramel
skin and a bounty of brown curls with golden highlights.
   "Hi." She smiled and it was then that the illusion cracked for Shannon.
Something was off about the girl.  For a moment, she imagined a predator
attempting to hide within the disguise of a young girl.
   Zaira tumbled over to Richard.  She crawled into his lap and hugged him
tight.  She placed a firm kiss on his neck and then a long swipe of her
tongue as if tasting ice cream.  "You taste delicious," she whispered.
   "Um ...  she's friendlier than you led us to believe." Richard said as
she struggled with putting some distance between him and the young girl.
   "Zaira," said Meredith.  "Zaira give him some room so that we can talk.
I don't know what to say, I've never seen her react like this."
   "I guess she can stay for now.  It's no trouble," said Richard.
   Zaira settled and grinned up at him.
   Shannon caught up with Meredith and Quint, leaving the girl with
Richard. He held Zaira, following them around, but he couldn't shake the
sensation of being followed, watched.  Like standing in hostile territory
rather than the living room of an old friend.
   They only stayed an hour, but when Richard left, he did so with a light
head and weary body.  Joints throbbed, muscles ached.  All he wanted to do
was find the nearest bed and pass out.
   -_ Poltergeist _-
   The oven timer chimed.  Meredith set the bowl of scrambled eggs aside
and pulled out the tray of buttermilk biscuits and set them on a rack.
   Zaira had been waking up early enough to help with breakfast, but her
bundle of joy decided to pass.
   She put the fire on under the skillet and reached over for the bowl. 
Her hands grasped for air.  It was on the counter behind her, but the whisk
lay in the sink.
   She rinsed the whisk and seasoned the eggs.  This wasn't the first time.
Little things like this had been happening with increasing frequency.  She
wasn't sure when it started, but she was sure it was getting worse.  About
3 to 4 times a day, little things were moving, disappearing, flickering.
   Meredith had seen enough movies to know that whatever she was
experiencing was very much like a haunting.  She took out the notebook in
her apron pocket, jotted down the time and the incident.  She continued
with breakfast as if nothing were amiss.
   Quint was on his first cup of coffee, and Zaira had not come down for
breakfast.
   Instead of calling for her, she climbed the steps to Zaira's room.
   Zaira's voice was low and conversational.  Perhaps having a discussion
with an imaginary friend?  If so, then at least she was pretending to have
friends.  Meredith smiled to herself.
   She turned the corner and her smile fell.  Behind Zaira, a doll floated
just a few inches from the floor.  The miniature dress fitted itself over
the doll's frame and then the doll eased to the floor and moved to Zaira's
side.
   The little girl grinned.  "I like that one.  She's ready for tea now."
   Meredith tapped lightly on the door frame.  "Breakfast is ready."
   "Thank you." Zaira stood and set the doll aside.
   ***
   Quint and Meredith were in bed, the light hadn't been turned off yet.
   Quint said, "Do you remember what Shannon said about Zaira being a
little odd?"
   Meredith nodded.
   "Have you noticed anything since then?"
   "Why?  Have you?"
   "I think so, more than one time.  I'm either going crazy or ...  I don't
know.  I can't say I'm sure about what I saw exactly."
   "Go on." Meredith set her knitting aside and turned to him.
   "Just yesterday.  I was in the work room when I felt like there was
something in the room with me.  Like if I turned around I'd see a cat or a
dog or something, any kind of animal.  That kind of instinct that there is
something watching you."
   "What does that have to do with Zaira?" Meredith picked her knitting
back up.
   "She was with me at the time.  I thought she was playing, imagining
things, but she whispered, 'stop that' and the feeling went away.  I don't
think she knew I could hear her.  When she's whispering she says all kinds
of things.  At first I thought she was just playing games with herself, but
it's different.  She's talking to someone else.  This isn't just about the
accident."
   "What do you want to do?"
   "I want to help her.  At least find out if there's something that we
should be doing for her."
   "Okay."
   "I called Terrance Bertrand.  He's been a psychologist for a while now.
He agreed to come by the house and have a chat with her.  She'll be some
place she feels safe.  We probably should have called him a while ago."
   "I don't know if we should.  Zaira has been an angel." Meredith set her
knitting down again.
   "Too much of an angel.  What is she?  Four, five?  She doesn't have near
the energy a young girl her age should have.  She's holding too much weight
on her shoulders, and no one her age should have a care in the world."
   Meredith put her knitting away and worried the blanket in her hands. 
Both of them turned their heads to the left.  There was a creak in the
house as if something large were leaning against the wall.
   "Listen, Mer.  The truth is, there's more to it, and I know you know
this.  Things like this, if we allow it to fester until puberty, it will
only get worse."
   Meredith nodded.  "All right.  If you think it well help.  Call him."
   ***
   Dr.  Bertrand didn't have many children to see in such a small town, but
he knew about dealing with grief.  It was something he specifically
studied. The chance to explore how a young child expressed such things
would be a great opportunity.  Not to mention he'd have access to one of
the most gossiped about people in the city.
   He'd received warning after warning from her doctor, the sheriff, and
the Jacobs, but all of their warnings did not prepare him for the way the
little girl lit up around him the moment Meredith and Quint left the room.
   "Hello!" She bounded over and crawled into his arms.
   "Hold on, wait a minute." None of his words mattered.  He was like a
mountain of blankets to a litter of determined puppies.  She overwhelmed
him with hugs and kisses and an avalanche of cute.  Dr.  Bertrand decided
to give in and let her find comfort in his lap.  She put her arms around
him and curled into his body as if they had been long departed friends.
   "Hello to you too, Miss Zaira."
   She giggled at that.
   "I guess you won't mind talking to me for a while."
   "No." She turned her face into his chest and placed a kiss there.  It
was through his shirt, but the contact was sudden and electrifying, and
disturbing.
   "How about you sit over here for moment." He attempted to pick her up
but she only held him tighter.
   He struggled with her for a while, but she always found some way to
twist back into her original position.  Even when he thought she'd be still
she turn and give him another kiss on his chest or neck.
   "Zaira, were you this affectionate with your parents?"
   "They're dead." She sighed heavily.
   "Do you enjoy living with Meredith and Quint?"
   "You're very healthy.  Do you work out?"
   The session was physically and mentally trying for Dr.  Bertrand.  When
he wasn't trying to readjust her or put some physical distance between
them, he was trying to phrase a question in a way that she would answer. 
She managed to dodge and redirect each one.
   Dr.  Bertrand wiped the sweat from his brow.  His vision swam for a
moment.  He shook his head and blinked to clear his vision.  There was a
little girl in his office, running around and playing.  The little girl ...
was he in the middle of a session?  How long?  Wait, this wasn't his
office. Where was he?
   He wanted to hold her again, feel her lips on his neck.  Each time those
tiny lips pressed to him it was like falling in love.  He stood up and made
his way to the door.
   Meredith stood.  "Done already?"
   "Yes." He dabbed his face with the cloth from his pocket.  "Meredith. 
You need to keep a close eye on her.  She seems to be just fine.  Very
different from the girl that Quint described, but that's my concern. 
Whatever she's hiding, it's probably best kept to herself."
   "When will you be back to talk to her again?"
   "I think it's best if we postpone any future sessions.  I'll call you."
   Quint walked the doctor to the door while Meredith went to get Zaira. 
She lay on the floor, her legs swinging in the air.
   "Don't tell anyone else about me," Zaira rolled her head to the side to
look at Meredith.
   "Excuse me?"
   Instead of answering, she rolled her head back and kicked the air
harder. She turned onto her side with a squeal, wriggling and flailing as
if...
   "Stop!" Zaira gasped between peals of laughter.
   ...as if someone tickled her.
   ***
   Guardian Ryan bent down to read the address through the driver's side
window.  "Yes, this is the one.  Her credit card was last used here."
   Guardian Vincent pulled into the hotel parking lot.
   The woman at the front desk, Mrs.  Roberts, was only too happy to
discuss the troublesome woman and her unruly daughter.  "I nearly lost
money because that brat.  Too many sweets and not enough discipline.  I see
it all the time."
   "Do you know where she was headed?"
   "No idea.  All I cared was that she left.  She paid the bill in full and
even tipped me.  Woman looked a mess, and now we know why."
   "Why is that?"
   Mrs.  Roberts grinned, the plastered foundation on her face cracked. 
"Not from around here, are you?  Well, the woman had an accident.  Rumor is
the girl wasn't even her daughter, kidnap victim.  Favored her though."
   Vincent and Ryan nodded, putting their notepads away.  "Thank you for
your assistance."
   "Mmm hmm, now that the girl is in a good home, she'll be able to grow up
to be a lovely young lady.  May not even remember this."
   Ryan lifted his head.  "You know where the girl is?"
   Mrs.  Roberts nodded, but pursed her lips.  "Not my business to say. 
Sheriff Boyd is a half hour drive from here if you want to speak with him
about the girl.  Don't get back on the highway, take the service road east.
All I'll tell you is that she hasn't been given to the state yet, and the
couple taking care will make great foster parents."
   ***
   After Dr.  Bertram's visit, Zaira had a surge of energy, enough to go
outside and play instead of sitting in her room.  She liked going into the
woods, practicing some of the plant identification that Quint taught her.
The Jacobs taught her useful things, not stupid stuff like Meredith.  Zaira
liked them enough that she knew better than to spend too much time around
them.  People around her ended up getting sick.
   Zaira stopped in her walk and stood still.  She heard a voice, like part
of a sentence.  She turned slowly, listening, wondering if someone else was
in the woods with her.
   Only her shadow friend left the house when she did.  The others stayed
inside, which made getting out even nicer.  Zaira felt anxious around the
things that she could barely see and hear.  As for the shadow, she didn't
see it the way she had just after the accident, but it was always around,
playing with her, following her, being the best and only friend she had.
   Other than Mommy Skylar and Daddy Preston, she barely remembered the
rest of her family.  Even if she wanted to join them, she wouldn't know
how, or where.  Did they still remember her?
   She heard the voice again, a soft laugh.  Zaira took steps in that
direction.
   A slight-feamed, pastel-pale creature about the size of a bag of sugar
stood on the stump of a tree.  It was stooped over the corpse of a
squirrel. Its wispy tan fur glittered in the sunlight.  It turned its flat
face to her and its golden-green eyes went wide.
   Zaira supposed that it didn't expect to be seen or heard.
   She lifted a hand and waved tentatively.  She took a single step back in
case it was frightened.
   It looked down at the squirrel, then back at her, then dove off the
stump and scampered up the nearest tree.
   Zaira knew that was not an animal that Quint would have been able to
identify.
   ***
   It set them back a few days, but Guardians Vincent and Ryan discovered
the identity of the couple caring for the child.  Vincent drove out to the
house and found them sitting on their screened-in porch.  They both stood
as he approached.  The woman wrung her hands and the man kept looking over
his shoulder inside the house.
   "How may we help you?" The woman asked.  Her words were, clipped short.
   "I think ...  exactly the way you may need my help.  Do you currently
care for a child here?"
   Neither one of them answered him.  They looked to each other, their
faces locked in a silent disagreement.
   It told him all needed to know.  The girl was here and she was a danger
to them, as much a danger as her presence had been to the others.  However,
they did not look to be on the verge of death or exhaustion.
   That didn't mean they weren't facing a danger to their lives.
   "I respect that you do not want to violate the child's privacy. 
However, I know your situation better than you do.  I can help you.  I am a
member of a group that knows what this child has been through and what kind
of help she needs." The older man looked ready to tell him to go away, so
Vincent rushed ahead.  "All I need from you is a nod.  I will return with
my colleagues who can help alleviate some of the problems."
   The woman was the first to nod, brisk, firm.  Her husband followed suit.
   With a nod of his own, Vincent got back into his car and drove away.
   The call to his supervisor, Gordon, did not go as expected.
   Gordon said, "Wait on this.  She's not viewed as anything other than an
orphan.  You say they suspect she was kidnapped?"
   "Yes, sir, but--"
   "That explains it then.  They were being protective, not scared."
   "But, sir, every person this girl has been with is dead.  I think it
prudent that we at least--"
   "I think it prudent that Ryan get started on his next assignment.  You
will continue with your investigation, but do not approach the girl.  Our
mission to is to rescue the victims of the House of Garai.  If she's safe,
then there's no reason for that.  The deaths your describe are due to the
poisons given to people during their membership.  The fact that the couple
hasn't been displaying these symptoms is only evidence of this."
   Vincent hung his head in frustration.
   Ryan shrugged and spoke up.  "Sir, I'd agree, but Vincent did say he
would return.  I can stop by, assist Vincent with the interview, then head
out on my next assignment in the morning.  If we look into it and find
nothing, then where is the harm?"
   Gordon signed on the other line.  All three of them were quiet.  "These
children are born mentally and physically damaged.  The help these people
want may not be the kind we can provide.  I'll give you a day.  Vincent,
you'll report to me immediately.  Ryan, I want you on a plane before
tomorrow night."
   "Thank you, sir," the men said in unison.
   -_ Power _Aiden looked up from his book.
   Mother Elizabeth entered his room with an armful of his clothing.  She
set the clothes down opened his dresser drawers to put them away.  Once she
was done she pointed at the framed picture of Aiden and Zaira on his
bedside table.  "Don't let Greg see that."
   Aiden rolled his eyes and went back to reading his book.  "He isn't
here, and he won't be back until tomorrow."
   Elizabeth sat on the foot of his bed.  "I know you miss her very much,
but you have responsibilities to the family, and spending time and
resources searching for a child who..." Aiden's bold stare caused her words
to falter.  The last thing she wanted was to make him angry today.  "I have
someone downstairs I want you to meet.  Do you remember Mother Julie?"
   "Yes."
   "She brought Megan by to see you."
   Aiden blank stare darkened into a scowl.
   "Aiden, you're fifteen years old.  At least try to meet another girl,
even if we found her--"
   "We will find her."
   "Until then, please?  The other women of this family need you."
   He slammed the book shut.  "Fine." He rolled out his bed, walked to the
door, and waited for his mother to lead them downstairs.
   "Megan, why don't you talk to Aiden in the sun room?  I'll be here with
Mother Elizabeth when you're ready to go." Julie smiled to Aiden.  It was
the same warm, sunny, pleading smile he saw on the face of every mother.
   Aiden took Megan's hand and led her to the sun room.  He walked her over
to the row of flowering plants.
   "These are pretty." She leaned over to smell them.
   "Do you know their names?"
   "No." She stood and smiled, but Aiden looked beyond the exaggerated
features of her puffy face.
   He was staring at her dark brown, dull, vacant eyes.  Megan was about a
year younger than Zaira, but taller, bigger - in both height and weight. 
Those eyes of hers drifted when she stopped actively looking around.
   "This one is a zinnia." He pointed to the orange and magenta blossoms
with yellow centers.  "This one is a blue bonnet."
   She nodded.
   "Do you read?"
   Her mouth hung open a few seconds.  "My mom reads to me."
   "What's your favorite book?"
   "Uh.." She leaned down to look at the flowers again.  "About the stars
and fairies."
   "Do you like that one?" She was staring at the zinnia.
   "Uh huh."
   "What kind of flower is it?"
   "Orange flower.  Pretty.  I like flowers."
   Aiden sighed heavily.  "It is very pretty." He closed his eyes and
thought back to the hours Zaira and him spent talking.  Their conversation
was more fanciful than educational, but at least it was a conversation. 
She had a vivid imagination, loved to ask questions.
   "I like you."
   Aiden opened one eye to look at the dumb girl in front of him.  "The
pact will hold."
   Megan nodded.  "Pact will hold.  Blood will see it true."
   He wanted to contact Zaira, and he was looking at the perfect way to get
what he wanted.  If the House wouldn't act, then he'd do it by himself. 
"But will your blood see it true?"
   She stared down at the floor, her feet shuffling and kicking around a
fallen petal.  "Do you like me?  Mother Julie says it's important. 
Important.  Good ...  imp, imp," She sighed heavily.  "Impressed."
   "Megan, will your blood see it true?"
   "If it is ...  in my blood to give," she struggled with the rest, her
face scrunched, "my blood will see it true." Megan bounced and grinned.
   Aiden grinned along with her, causing Megan's face to light up.  "Good.
I want you to come with me."
   "Kay." She extended her hand and followed him into the ritual room.
   Aiden locked the door behind them.
   If Megan had any sense of her mortality, she did not express it.
   Aiden bound her, gagged her, and bled her over the clay pots to provide
the sacrifice to the servants of Garai.
   He called out one in particular, the one who came to visit him often,
spoke with him when others were not around.
   "Ekani, servant of Garai.  I seek information regarding a member of my
family."
   He repeated the phrase several times, moving about the ritual room,
opening the portal, interspersed with oaths and vows.  He sought to call a
Zorient into existence.  Requesting the presence of the Zorient was
something several rituals sought to do, but few were truly successful.
   Aiden had seen the difference.  The older he got, the more he was able
to perceive the arrival of a Zorient.
   "Seek and you shall be answered, Child of Garai."
   Aiden came to a stop, turned and faced the large, masculine Zorient.  He
was seated on the stone slab beside Megan's corpse.  He extended a finger
into one of her wounds, covered his finger in blood, then lifted the finger
to his mouth.  He shook his head as if disappointed.
   "Zaira.  She was born a child of Garai under the silver moon, nine years
ago, under the archer constellation."
   "I know the child you speak of.  She is beloved by you."
   "She is."
   "She is a true child of Garai, unlike," Ekani waved his hand at the body
beside him.  "Zaira is safe, but far removed from the family.  She feeds
inconsistently."
   Aiden's eyes widened.  The feeding was important to the proper
development of powers.  He felt a phantom pain in his chest, and the weight
of worry lift.  She was safe, if improperly fed.  "I want her with me.  I
told our leader to find her, but he has given up the search.  He says she
isn't important to the family.  I disagree.  A true child of Garai is
family and more important than anyone else."
   Ekani pulled a bit of the skin from Megan's cheek away and chewed on it.
"To strengthen our lines, it is better that you mate with a child of
Garai."
   "They bring me these shells, dead on the inside.  I don't care if it can
be fixed.  They think I can't see it, that it doesn't matter.  Zaira is
worth all of them multiplied by the stars in the sky.  I want to protect
her.  I must protect her."
   Ekani lifted his head.
   "Ekani, servant of Garai, act as my agent."
   "In service to Garai, I am to protect you."
   "I am with my family.  Part from my presence and lend your strength to
her.  Find her Zorient, if she has one."
   "Who will guard you, little one?"
   "I will not leave the safety of the house.  My family does well to
shelter me.  This is more than she has."
   "I will protect Zaira, lend my power and instruction to her Zorient."
Ekani grinned and stepped down from the altar.  "I have before me a pact."
   "The pact will hold."
   "This blood will see it true."
   ***
   Greg opened the door to see Julie and Elizabeth in the living room
talking.
   Elizabeth stood and greeted him.  "I thought you weren't going to be
home for a while."
   "I thought so too, imagine my surprise to learn that my warding charges
were weakened when my ritual room was sealed."
   "Ritual room?  I haven't done anything.  You told me not to use it."
   "Where is Aiden?"
   "The sunroom, speaking with Megan."
   Greg glanced to Julie and lowered his voice.  "You brought that girl to
him?"
   "She's not that bad.  You can hardly tell.  She's very healthy,
physically beautiful."
   "That's not the point." Greg stopped talking and headed for the sun
room. As he expected, his son was not there.
   "He wouldn't."
   Greg arched his brow at her.  "Why not?"
   They stopped before the closed ritual room door.
   Greg reached out with his hands to feel the door.  "Still sealed." He
crossed his ams and took a step back.
   Julie caught up with them.
   Elizabeth pointed back down the hall.  "Please wait.  We'll bring them
to the living room when he's done."
   "Okay."
   "Over promising," Greg muttering.
   "She's our best candidate.  He's been depressed.  He needs someone to
take his mind off ...  her."
   "I've been looking.  Believe me.  I have."
   "He thinks you've given up."
   "That's better than having him looking at me every day for information I
don't have."
   The pressure in the hallways altered.  Both Greg and Elizabeth flexed
their jaw.
   The lock on the door turned.
   Megan's limp and emaciated body lay in full view on the altar.  Whatever
Aiden had done to her had resulted in a successful conjuring.  For a moment
they were arrested by the awe that their own teen boy could conjure a
Zorient alone.
   Aiden looked at his mother.  "Bring me another simpleton and that's how
you will end." He glared at Greg.  "Find my wife." He stomped off to his
room.
   They watched him leave.  Neither one breathed until the door to his room
closed.
   "I'll walk Julie out," Elizabeth whispered.
   "I'll clean up."
   "Let him know what you're doing," Elizabeth said.  "He needs to
understand we're on his side."
   "I got that."
   ***
   Ekani, servant of Garai, sentinel to Aiden, arrived in the girl's
presence amid a host of other creatures, pulled from the shadow world by
her energy and allowed to fester by the failure of her sentinel's
guardianship.
   Ekani walked through the house, appalled by what he saw.  These
creatures could do the girl great harm.  If they attacked as a group, Ekani
would have a challenge stopping them.  As he searched the house, they
watched Ekani, whispering among themselves, eyes trained on him.  All of
them looked to be waiting on something, for him to misstep?  For the girl
to anger them?
   The Zorient found Zaira in a room on the upper floor, bent over a
puzzle. The sentinel had not failed as he assumed.  It was only a child
herself.  The young Zorient sat with her legs on either side of Zaira
twirling the curls of her hair.
   Zaira looked up and cocked her head to the side.  She hesitantly lifted
her hand and waved.
   Ekani bowed deeply to both the girl and her Zorient.
   Zaira returned to her puzzle.
   The thin, long limbed Zorient rested her head on the girl's shoulder and
closed her eyes.
   Ekani's pride swelled for his kind.  The young Zorient was giving the
girl her energy.  Rather than wasting it protecting the house or driving
away the foreign shadow creatures, she was keeping the girl healthy and
defending her with her presence.  The girl needed a full grown Zorient, but
that could not be corrected now.
   He surveyed the remainder of the upper floor.
   "We aren't talking about a matter of days.  Things are bad and only
getting worse.  At this rate, our home is going to end up on one of those
paranormal documentaries.  I'm not sure how much longer we can do this."
   "I don't think it has to do with her.  I think she needs our help. 
Zaira is a brilliant young girl, and whatever she's been through.  I
can't."
   "Love, listen to me.  Vincent said that he knows how to help people like
her.  We don't know her history, what we might be dealing with.  He told us
it would get worse and it has."
   "She is our child, ours."
   "No, Meredith.  She isn't.  Now, if you want to look into adoption--"
   "I can't believe you're saying this!"
   Two Seelix pups tussled on the shelves.  In their play, the wood of the
shelves creaked and a statue fell to the ground.  Seelix pups?  Ekani
looked outside the room, and the things that had crossed over.  Not a
single mature species.
   Children, all of them.
   "We need to see to our own safety," Quint said.
   Meredith picked up the pieces of the fallen ornament.  "Tell him to come
get her then."
   Protect Zaria.  Lend strength and knowledge to the young Zorient.  He
would assist them both and fulfill the pact.
   ***
   Douglas, Julie, and two other council members approached Elizabeth and
Greg's door.
   Greg sighed.  "I knew this was going to happen."
   "Don't let them bully us.  Without our son this house be nothing."
   "You know this is your doing."
   Elizabeth shook her head and folded her arms.  "I won't be made to feel
guilty for trying to please my child."
   "Do not talk like that around them," Greg hissed as he opened the door,
"even if I agree." He smiled.  "I didn't know I was throwing a party?"
   Douglas shook his head as they filed into the house.  "You know why
we're here."
   "Yes."
   "You let that," Julie wiped her swollen, red eyes and took a breath. 
"Aiden murdered our daughter.  All the hard work, the effort we put into
our children.  How could you treat the death of a child so casually?"
   "You insisted I bring her to him," said Elizabeth.  "You knew she was
deformed."
   "Deformed?  She's a little girl.  She has been doing just fine.  She can
read, write.  She's healthy!  She could have born plenty of children. 
Megan is ...  was the best girl born to our family."
   Greg shook his head.  "The best girl born to our family is currently
missing."
   "We've been over that," Douglas cautioned.  "She's gone and the family
needs to move forward."
   "She is missing and Aiden is the future of the human race.  He promised
to kill any other girl other than the one promised to him, and any woman,"
he glanced to Elizabeth, "who tries to pass another girl off as being
anything less than worthy of his attention."
   "Have you all so conveniently forgotten that night?" Elizabeth asked. 
"The night she was born to us?"
   "No," Douglas answered.  "That's not what we're here about.  We cannot
live in the past.  The girl is gone, has been for years now."
   "That is what this is about." Greg said.  "Don't forget the things Aiden
has already taught and shown us."
   "Shown us?" Julie scoffed.  "What has that psychopath truly done?  What
has he shown other than his murderous temper?  He levels threats against
the child-bearing fruit of his family and you two stand there defending
him?"
   The floor board beyond the door creaked.  The room full of adults looked
at him as he entered the room.
   "He summoned a Zorient, alone.  That is what happened to Megan." Greg
nodded to Aiden.
   "I needed to find my wife since my family does not have the ability to
do so.  I called the Zorient and set him on a task.  Zaira is alive."
   "Call the Zorient back."
   "I set him to a task." Aiden sneered at Douglas.  "The pact will hold."
   Everyone in the room murmured, "The blood will see it true."
   Douglas ground his teeth.  "Convenient." Though Douglas had spoke to the
Zorient through oracles and messages, he had never seen one himself, barely
felt their presence.  "What was the nature of your working?"
   "The protection of my wife, our daughter.  I had to spill the blood of
my sister since none of my family cares about her well being."
   "That isn't true, Aiden." Greg said.  "I've been looking for her.  I've
tried.  The woman who took her has turned up missing."
   Douglas said, "You said she was alive.  Where is she?"
   "I do not know, but I will."
   Douglas grinned.  Finally, something he could hold the child too.  "When
you do, we will go to her."
   "When I do," Aiden was the one smiling this time.  "You will no longer
lead the House of Garai, Father Greg will." Aiden looked to his father. 
"Show me what you've done to find my wife."
   ***
   Zaira woke in the middle of the night.  That was not unusual.  The
others had learned how to be quiet and leave her alone, but sometimes the
new ones made mistakes.  She didn't know what they were or what they
wanted, but they didn't hurt her.  A few of them tried to get close enough
to play with her, but her shadow friend to her did not allow that.
   The shadow lay behind her.  Sleeping?  Awake?  Zaira couldn't tell.
   Meredith's cry echoed through the house.  It wasn't the usual sounds
Meredith made at night.  Those sounded painful, but not real pain.  She
sounded in pain now, real pain.
   Zaira eased out of bed and into the hallway.
   "Meredith!  Mere--" Quint's voice sounded choked off.
   Zaira walked along the railing until she could see their bedroom.  The
door was partially open.  The hair on her skin stood on end.  Wet sounds.
Smell of sweet copper.
   Lights, shadows.  Snarling and clicking.  Quint's limbs twisted back. 
Bone stuck out through Meredith's leg.  Crimson liquid splattered the
walls.
   The big one.  She'd met him last night.  He wasn't like the others.  He
looked meaner, massive.  He opened his palms and pushed them out from his
body in Zaira's direction.
   Air brushed over her face, but not quite.  It was like a wave of water,
but not wet.  It soaked into her body, to her bones.  It felt warm and
thick like hot syrup.  Zaira's heart beat faster, her skin tingled with
warmth.
   Zaira scrambled down the hallway and back into her room.
   It was coming for her next.  She was sure of it.
   She snatched up her backpack, tossed in her journals, things she wrote
down for fear of forgetting.  Inside it was a protection spell, she
remembered that much, but she didn't bother to memorize it.  She should
have memorized it.  Secrets had to be kept in her brain, not on paper.
   Zaira opened her window and looked out at the ledge.  She could crawl to
the end and jump to the tree.  She was already out on the roof before she
wondered if she could really do it.  She'd been thinking about it last
week, but the sun was out and there had not been a breeze.
   There was certainly one now, warm and damp.  Quint had taught her that
the air would get warm just before a rain.  That was about to happen now,
Zaira was sure of it.
   She didn't let herself think about it; she just jumped.  The backpack
weighed her down and instead of catching hold of the branch, the tips of
her fingers grazed the bark.  She watched the branch below rush upward and
she bit down on her lip.  It was going to smack her head.
   Zaira's scream rolled in her throat, but the branch never hit.  She went
around the branch and fell, slowly, to the ground.
   It was dark outside.  All the lights in the house were off - inside and
out - casting the back yard into a deep darkness.  No moon, no stars.
   Heat lightning flickered.
   Something took her hand, something cold, but firm.  It was the thing
that had been in the car with her, the thing that slept behind her, her
shadow friend.  She saw it now as she saw it in the car, the moment before
it saved her life.  Zaira smiled.  If she could see it, that meant it could
save her again.
   Zaira clasped its hand tight.  They took off at a run into the woods.
   ***
   "Gordon is going to have my ass," Ryan said as they pulled up to the
house.
   "This is more important.  He'll recognize that."
   The sky opened up and rain fell in heavy sheets.  No porch light.  No
lights in the windows.
   Rain covered the windshield as fast as the wipers could slosh it away.
   "You feel it?" Vincent whispered.
   Ryan nodded.  "We're psyching ourselves out.  It's late.  Let's come
back in the morning."
   "Call the police." Vincent unbuckled his seatbelt.
   "It's three in the morning.  There's a storm.  The power went out,
that's all.  Vincent!"
   Vincent ran through the rain up to the porch.  He knocked on the door,
rang the door bell, knocked.  Quint spoke to him that evening, told him to
get the girl while she slept.  They would be waiting, power off or not.
   He stepped over to look through the window.  Overturned furniture. 
Lightning flashed and he thought he saw movement.
   "Hey!  It's me, Vincent!" He waved and knocked on the window.
   Lightning flashed again and Vincent stepped back.  That was not a human
being.
   He ran down the steps, got in the car, and had it in reverse before the
door shut.
   "What are you--"
   "Did you call the police?!"
   "Yes.  What the hell?"
   Vincent put his arm around the passenger seat and drove backwards out of
the driveway onto the street.
   ***
   "Quint?  Meredith?" The officer knocked again, harder this time.  He
cast a disgusted look over his shoulder at the men who had been in his town
for the past week.  "It's too damn early for this," he muttered as he
peeked in through the window.
   Minutes later, still no answer.  The officer broke in the door.  Five
minutes later he was running back outside.  He didn't get down the porch
step before he puked down himself and on the steps.
   "The hell is your problem, Peter?" The sheriff went to the door, but
didn't go in.  Unlike the officer with him, he knew the smell of death. 
"Did you see the girl?"
   Peter shook his head.  "No way whoever did that could have escaped
without a blood trace."
   "Get us some help out here, and don't loose sight of them.  We better
make damn sure she's not hiding in the house."
   Vincent went in with the others to help find the girl.  He was soon pale
and nauseated as the others, but for different reasons.  She'd be nine by
now, though the Jacobs thought she was around seven, due to her size.
   Regardless of her age, the toys and books in her room looked more suited
to a girl approaching her teens.  Vincent picked up a picture of her. 
Mentally and physically pristine.
   -_ Shelter _-
   Harold Merchant had been a child advocate for decades.  Recently he'd
been put on field duty, not much different from animal control, picking up
stray children and bringing them back to the 'pound' until their parents or
something better were located.  It had been a long day, but this last visit
marked the end of it.
   "What do you have for me?"
   "Found her in the stables.  Tiny thing.  I gave her something to eat,
let her sleep.  Doesn't talk, so I don't have any details for you.  One
thing is for sure, she doesn't belong out there in the cold.  Got a front
moving in this weekend."
   The girl was wrapped in a blanket, sipping from a bottle of water.  When
she looked at him those bright eyes bored into his soul.  Furthermore, she
looked like the ruffian twin to his own pet.
   "Give me a second with her?"
   "No problem.  I'll be up front."
   He pulled a chair around and sat across from her.  "Hey there.  My name
is Harold.  What's yours?"
   She didn't answer.
   "You're not in any trouble.  In fact, I'd like to do you a favor.  Would
you like to be with a family?"
   "My family," she whispered.
   "Well, it may not be like the one you used to have, maybe even better.
Warm place to sleep, food to eat.  Not bad, right?"
   She shrugged.
   He extended his hand.  "I'll tell you about it along the way."
   Harold didn't log the visit, didn't take her to the shelter.  He took
the petite girl back to his place and let her take a bath, gave her a warm
meal.  If she stood beside his pet, he would hardly be able to tell them
apart.
   A chance like this was too good to pass up.
   "What do you want?" Those were the first words she said.
   To the point then.  "There's another little girl, a girl you look like.
I miss her very much and she's about to leave.  Now, I suppose I could keep
you, but I think you've had a hard enough time.  How about you take her
place for me?  No one will notice."
   The girl shrugged.  "Okay."
   "All right then.  That's the spirit.  Now, if anyone asks about me,
don't you say anything."
   She nodded.
   ***
   Harold took her to the group home after hours.  He walked her up to his
pet's room.  "Remember our deal?  You don't want to be here without someone
coming to pick you up.  You take her place and get a family.  I don't put
you in the system, and you can remain invisible."
   "I don't know you; you don't know me."
   He grinned.  "They may have found you in a barn, but you weren't born
there." He walked over to his pet's bed and placed the chloroform cloth
over her mouth.  Once she was out, he wrapped her in a blanket and lifted
him into his arms.
   ***
   Zaira spent most of the night awake, reading the girl's diary, looking
over her toys.  They looked a little alike, though this girl was much
younger.  Her name had been Clara.  Harold had been her 'special friend'
for a year.
   Zaira didn't like that name.  The man didn't say she had to be called
that.
   An hour after she settled into bed, an alarm blared over the intercom.
In rooms next to hers, children stirred.  Pipes rattled.
   The headmistress entered Zaira's room.  "Get up, Clara.  Your new mother
will be here in an hour.  Get this room cleaned.  Pack anything you don't
want thrown away.  One bag, understood?"
   Zaira nodded.
   "Remember, you want your new parents to feel like they have something to
give.  Don't be so eager to please, let them come to you."
   None of the things in the room mattered to Zaira, but she packed up some
of the clothes and a few of the toys.  She especially kept Clara's journal.
It mentioned someone named Olivia, a member of the family that often
visited her.
   Her foster mother, Sheila Hayes, barely looked at Zaira as she gathered
her bag and ushered her to the car.  She appeared tired and rushed.  They
made four more stops before pulling up to the house in the suburban
neighborhood.
   "Listen, I know this isn't the best welcome, but those places can be so
taxing, barely give us any time with the children.  Too much like adopting
a mutt than picking a daughter, but we don't hold that against you.  I
didn't even know we'd been approved until a few days ago.  Clara, right?"
   "Zaira."
   "Zaira, right.  Sorry about that.  They probably just gave you a name
and didn't ask twice.  I'm a member of a group and we try to pull as many
children as we can out of that system.  Too many get lost, you know?"
   Zaira smiled.  She did.
   "Well, my husband Brian isn't home yet, but Olivia is waiting.  Let's
go."
   ***
   Olivia paced the floor from the moment she saw the headlights of her
mother's car.  She bounced on the heels of her feet as the front door
opened, but all the jubilance drained from her as she looked at the girl
behind her mother.
   "Mom?"
   "Olivia, this is Zaira.  Zaira, this is my daughter, Olivia."
   "Hi, Zaira.  Mom?"
   "Yes?  I thought you'd be a little more excited."
   "This isn't the right girl."
   "What do you mean?  Oh, her name, she corrected me."
   "She was ...  her ...  not just the name.  This girl is different, Mom."
   "Olivia, wards are not animals, no matter how the system treats them. 
This is the girl who was placed to stay with us."
   "I met her, mom."
   "Really?  And what?" She stepped away from Zaira and lowered her voice
to a whisper.  "You want me to turn back around and say, 'I can't care for
this girl in need, my natural, privileged daughter thinks this one is
unacceptable.'"
   Olivia's eyes misted over and lowered her head.  "That's not what I
meant at all."
   "It's been a very long day.  Welcome her, damn it."
   Olivia rounded her mother and walked over to Zaira.  "I'm sorry.  When I
stopped by to see you yesterday, I guess you looked different."
   "I didn't meet you yesterday," Zaira whispered.
   Olivia paused in the hallway with her.  "Then I guess they confused you
with someone else.  Oh well, you're here now.  Okay?  Have you seen me
before?"
   Zaira shook her head.
   "Not at all?  Wow."
   Zaira shrugged.  "It's okay if you want to send me back.  I'm used to
it."
   Olivia collapsed onto her knees before the girl.  "No!  It's not like
that at all.  Oh, please, I'm so sorry.  Don't take it that way.  I'd be
happy to have you for my sister."
   Zaira glanced up hesitantly.  "You would?"
   Olivia embraced Zaira and held her tight to her chest.  "I'm so sorry
for having that discussion in front of you.  You do look very close to the
other girl, but you're here now, and this is where you're welcome to stay."
   Zaira hugged the girl back and grinned into her chest.  "Okay."
   Olivia stood up and opened the door to the room.  "Come on, let me show
you your room."
   ***
   The side effect of conjuring Ekani into existence was that he wasn't
easy to unsee.  He returned to Aiden stronger, having taken the life of the
couple taking care of her.
   "They decided to give her to the guardians.  Her sentinel is young, but
feeding her.  She is not strong enough to keep away the other shadow
creatures, but they do not appear to wish the girl harm.  This is why we
stressed the need for family.  Our presence can be a beacon to other
creatures, even other Zorients."
   Aiden nodded.  "I'll make sure my father makes this clearer.  Did you
have to kill them?"
   "No, but with their blood I gave the young Zorient enough strength to
keep her safe and prevented them from being questioned by the others. 
However, it was the limit of my ability.  They escaped before I could speak
with her."
   "Thank you."
   Ekani bowed his head.  "Have you fared better in your search?"
   "Two years and nothing, at least not from her.  My father has been
growing our membership and pregnancies are up, disappearances are down, but
that isn't good."
   Ekani lifted his head to look at him.
   "It means they aren't trying as hard to find her."
   Ekani nodded.
   They turned to watch Elizabeth enter the room with a tray.  She picked
up the dishes from his finished meal and refilled his drink.  "Did I hear
you talking?"
   "Yes."
   She nodded stiffly.  "When you're ready, the others are gathered."
   "I'll be down in a moment."
   Aiden frowned as she departed.  The entire evening put him in a foul
mood.
   Ekani leaned into his field of vision.
   "They disgust me, and I haven't even met them." Aiden checked himself in
the mirror and headed down the stairs.  He'd made a pact with Father Greg.
If he briefed him monthly on his efforts to find Zaira, then Aiden would
make an effort to replace her.
   At least these girls were beautiful.  He found himself looking upon a
couple with approval despite his inner disgust.  He could entertain these
outsiders, teach them how to become a mother to their future children.
   Even if Zaira would not be his wife, she would return home to her
family, to those who could love and protect her.
   The thought brought him pain.  He winced, much to the distress of the
girl he was looking at the time and his mother, who was holding her breath.
   He couldn't afford to let his disgust get in the way of keeping his
word. Douglas, Fatima, and a couple others attempted to use his loyalties
against him.  Claiming that the only reason he wouldn't be with another
woman was because he was sterile or some other foolishness.
   He had plans for them as well.
   Aiden pointed to three of the girls and waved them closer.  "Give me a
moment."
   He stepped past the three young women and looked at the one who had been
eyeing him like a hawk the whole time.  There was hatred and mistrust
there, and also a familiarity.
   "You know Father Douglas."
   "Yes."
   "Did he send you here to see if I was being a proper young man?"
   "I was hoping to see if you could get it up.  A seventeen year old
virgin?" She giggled.
   The others in the room chuckled and gasped.
   Aiden grinned.  "At least you didn't try to hide it."
   Aiden looked over to Ekani.  The mission had significantly weakened his
sentinel, but steady feeding and care had more the Zorient's presence even
stronger than before.  Ekani moved to stand behind the young woman.
   "Since you're here to gather information for the very man whom we owe
the wealth of knowledge.  I want you to bring him a gift."
   "What's that?"
   She gasped and reached for her throat.  The others in the room backed
away from her and gasped in horror at her struggle for breath.  She
thrashed and reached for the unseen hands around her throat.
   Aiden held up his hand and Ekani let her go, stepped away.
   "The gift of knowing all his work has not been in vain.  All his
promises," he looked around at the frightened young women.  "Are not empty.
The human race is capable of greatness, and that majesty is already here
among us.  So, as a gift, you can bring him that message."
   Both front doors opened wide and all the women in the room screamed.
   Aiden waved the girl toward the doors.  "Go on."
   She wasn't the only one to run.  Two or three others followed her out.
   Aiden turned around.  Four young women, plus his mother remained, three
of them being the ones he'd told to wait.
   Which made the fourth girl more curious.  "What's your name?"
   "Violet."
   "Why aren't you running?"
   "From the future of the human race?" She shifted her posture and
blushed. "I was under the impression that's why I'm here."
   The front doors closed.
   "At least someone is paying attention."
   ***
   Zaira had come to her conclusion long before being placed with the Hayes
family.  She would never go home, never find her family.  Her only friends
were the things that came out of the shadows at night.  They kept their
distance more now than usual.
   The thin-fingered female, Zaira assumed she was a female, seemed to be
keeping them away, and in turn, she stayed away from Zaira.  They didn't
talk much, but when Zaira spoke, she listened.  As Zaira got closer to the
Hayes, her friend went to the background.  Some nights Zaira could only
sense her presence instead of see her.
   When she did catch a glimpse of her, she didn't look so tired, and Zaira
was glad for that.  Life was short, easily lost.  People around her ended
up dead.  That she was still around gave Zaira a bit of joy.
   The Hayes enrolled Zaira into school.  She'd tested well enough to be
placed into higher grades in same areas, but on things like history or
social subjects, she was very far behind.  So she was put into a special
class, where her levels would be tested for a year.
   This put Zaira around very interesting people, people she seemed to feel
familiar around.  This was because they were developmentally challenged
like most of the children at the House of Garai.
   For the most part, Zaira did well, and did so for a long time.  Mondays
were hard, she always felt the most needy, the most anxious.  She wanted
something, wanted to move, to hurt, to scream.  She tried very hard to keep
still when these urges came over her.  They were like manic attacks.  When
she got them at home she simply retreated to her room or went outside, but
in school she wasn't allowed to get out of her seat for no reason.
   Zaira wanted to hit the person who first told her the stupid rule, but
she saw that the other children were following it, and she didn't want to
leave her new home yet.  Like the man said, she had food, she was warm, and
didn't have to watch her back so much.  It was nice to have that for a
while.
   Zaira lowered her head.  She felt like the ground was moving beneath her
feet.  The teacher carried on, but her voice sounded far away, faint.
   Voices reached her through the mental fog, a male whisper, a raspy
laugh.
   "Come play."
   Zaira moved her eyes, but not her head.
   "Paint with the blood."
   "Feed with us."
   "Want to know a new game?"
   "Please play with us?"
   "Go!" It was a strong voice.  The whispering ended.  The fog around her
lifted.
   "Zaira?" The teacher was beside her now.  "Are you all right?"
   "I don't feel too good," she whispered.
   "Go see the nurse." The teacher took her hand and helped her out of her
seat.
   Zaira walked down the hall looking all around.  She didn't see anything,
didn't feel any presence.  She didn't know who that voice was or where it
had come from.
   She felt like there was something she was supposed to remember about all
this, but she'd lost her journals last year in the streets, and with that,
most of her faint memories, the lessons her daddy tried to help her with.
   Zaira hugged her belly as she turned the corner into the nurses office.
   "Feeling dizzy again?"
   She nodded.
   "Do you see any flashing lights or hear any strange sounds when this
happens, Zaira?"
   Zaira shook her head.  She did, but she remembered one thing: no one
else needed to know.  When she told people things, they got hurt.
   She hummed slightly.  "Come here, then." The nurse opened her arms and
Zaira crawled into her lap.  They were in a rocking chair and the nurse
held her and rocked her slowly.
   "I think you just pretend so that you can come in here and get away from
class.  Is that it, Zaira?"
   "No." Zaira cradled her head against the woman's chest.  No, that's
wasn't it at all, but coming in here and being held did more to help her
than the other nurses.  She was always happy to see when this nurse was on
duty.
   "I want you to try something for me when you get home, okay?"
   Zaira angled her head up to look at the nurse.
   "Some time at night, maybe just before you go to bed.  Sit to yourself
for a while and close your eyes.  Don't do anything.  Don't think anything.
Just sit and breathe and relax.  Take a deep breath in and then let it go.
Do that for a few minutes before bed.  Seek the support of the earth under
you, the air around you.  Breathe it into your body with each slow breath.
See if that helps you."
   Zaira looked at the woman, really looked at her.  She didn't know her.
She didn't look like anyone she should know.  She had no idea who this
woman was, but something she said made sense.
   "Hush now.  Just try it for two weeks.  If it helps, keep doing it.  If
it doesn't help, keep doing it." The nurse smiled.  "All right, bell's
about to ring.  Go get your books."
   ***
   Aiden stepped back from his drawing.  "Heidi."
   Heidi was a year older than him.  She was abandoned by her parents
shortly after her birth, and had nearly eaten one of the midwife's bullets.
She had a shriveled left arm and a cloudy right eye.  Her jaw was more than
a little misshapen.
   The severity of her physical deformities made her a poster child for the
dangers of improper ritual when trying to fuse with Zorients during
conception.  The deformed girl was also the lighting rod for guardian
recruitment.
   Once Aiden was forced to interact with the other children, he learned
something interesting about their hidden sister.  She spoke something like
a drunken slur and a lisp, but when he caught onto her 'dialect,' he
discovered a formidable brain in her body.  Because no one would talk to
her, she lived in the library, reading with her one eye and listening to
the people and the world around her.
   Heidi approached him and looked at his drawing.  She pulled a book open,
and using a sling over her shoulder, set it on the shelf in front of her. A
single nod.
   That was as good as perfect for the sigil scholar.
   "Thank you."
   Heidi smiled.  She wasn't accustomed to the act, as showing off her
malformed skull by distorting her muscles did not inspire mirth in other
people.
   Aiden didn't mind, not when he got a glimpse of her intelligence.
   "Violet's coming." It sounded more like 'viha coma' to untrained ears,
but Aiden had moved Heidi into the house with him.  It was easy, since her
preferred space was the library.  He listened to her read to him.  She
didn't want to at first.
   The woman so rarely spoke that it hurt her mouth.  Aiden made her
anyway. He wanted to understand her.  He'd look over her shoulder, reading
the words as she said them out loud.
   Heidi reacted with violence at first, but Aiden was only too happy to
react in kind.  He didn't care about her missing limbs or disabilities.  He
wrestled with her as if she were as able bodied as himself.  The second
week they fought, she lay in a ball crying.  Aiden thought he'd hurt her
until she jumped up and hugged him.  She held him in a tight embrace for up
to a minute then sat down and began reading to him.
   They only fought on rare occasions and mainly for sport.
   'E yon oo baze.' "She wants your babies."
   "Well aware of that."
   "Why don't you give her one?"
   "She's not a child of Garai."
   "Give it to me."
   "You're not Zaira."
   "Zorient can fix this." She pulled a face.  "Zaira could do the ritual
wrong."
   "I--" Aiden glanced to the door and smiled at Violet.  "Come on in."
   Heidi continued, "You love her.  I know.  Not asking for your love."
   "Hello, Heidi." Violet waved fleetingly to her and beamed at Aiden. 
"Good morning, Aiden."
   If Heidi had only been born with half the beauty of Violet or Zaira,
then she'd probably be the head mother.  Aiden would be the one lucky to be
in her shadow.
   Aiden nodded.  "I'll think about it, all right, Heidi?"
   "Don't play with me.  No need to be cruel." She kicked him.
   Violet gasped.
   He took the book out of Heidi's stand and kissed her on the forehead. 
"I meant it.  Now go on."
   Heidi wanted to smile, he saw the urge on her face, but she never did so
around anyone but Aiden.  She remained placid as she left the room.
   "She doesn't like me, huh?  " Violet said.  "It's because I wasn't born
here."
   "She wasn't talking about you."
   "Talking?" She giggled.  "She just grunts and moans, how can you tell
what she's saying?"
   "I can tell what you're saying when you grunt and moan."
   Violet's face flushed deep red.  She chuckled softly.  "Speaking of
which..."
   "Hmm?" Aiden began to unzip the back of her dress.
   Violet shook her head.
   Aiden closed his eyes as he slipped his hands around her waist.  Violet
was taller, larger, so different from anything he imagined Zaira would be
like today.  Even still, his mind put her there, under his hands.
   Would Zaira be shy with him or bold?  Loud or quiet?  Each thought, one
at a time made him harder as he entered Violet's body.  She was just a
woman, an initiate.  She was probably recruited solely on the basis of
fucking him.  He took one look at that circle of women and knew it.  If
that was her purpose then he didn't mind using her that way.
   Violet was obedient, beautiful, complacent, and could hold a decent
conversation if he wanted from her.  She was good enough, and he had to
admit that her presence helped to take the sharp edges off his profound
loneliness, but only just.
   Under him, Violet trembled with the intensity of her orgasm.  He didn't
want this woman carrying his child.  He'd take his chances with Heidi
first.
   Aiden grinned.  That would probably snap Violet right out of her
complacent shell.  She was power hungry.  He saw the gleam in her eye and
picked her over the others for it.  He knew what she wanted, and he could
control her with it.
   He pulled out of her and collapsed on his stomach.  He was still hard,
but that would go down in a moment.  "Tell Heidi to come back.  I need to
get back to work."
   Violet narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded.  Ultimately, she was very
good at playing complacent.
   Heidi returned and he was still on his stomach.  "You need help getting
dressed?"
   He rolled onto his side, his hard cock on display.  "No.  Do you need
help getting undressed?"
   Heidi gave him her best snarl.  It really was her best.  Her face
contorted, exaggerating the slanted bones and oddly placed muscles.  She
closed her blue eye leaving the milky white eye wider.  The effect was
almost surreal, morphing her from a malformed young woman into a demonic
creature in the midst of a soundless howl.
   Aiden smirked.  "Go get a hot cloth then and wash her off me."
   The scowl dropped and she glanced back toward the bathroom.  She perched
on the edge of his mattress.  "That's too big."
   Aiden narrowed his eyes at her impatiently.  "It'll fit.  Get over
here."
   "No.  Aiden.  I'm not charity and won't be treated like this."
   He rolled out of the bed and she took two steps back from him, but he
advanced on her until he was pressed against her.  "Don't play coy with me.
You can still get pregnant if you're bleeding.  Small chance, but you can.
You think I care about blood?" He grinned.  "Want to get in the shower with
me?  You can wash her scent off."
   "You hate deformed girls.  Everyone knows it."
   "I hate girls trying to present themselves to me as something they're
not.  To be honest, it's not the deformity I hate.  It's the stupidity."
   "I'd rather be stupid."
   "I'd rather be coming inside you.  Take it or leave it."
   She lifted the harness over her head and set it aside.
   "I knew you were smart," he said as he followed her into the bathroom.
Other than her shriveled arm and mangled head, her body was decent ...  and
soft.  He put his lips to her shoulder and licked the water and it streamed
down her body.
   "You're making me feel weird."
   He reached between her legs, she felt normal enough there.  Warm blood
met his fingers and both her eyes closed.  "You're a virgin?"
   "I haven't been with a man, but I've broken my hymen."
   "Good." He hoisted her left leg and her arm hooked around his back.  It
didn't take him long.  Somehow, just the thought of being with another
child of Garai, even one as grotesquely deformed as Heidi, brought him over
the edge faster than all of Violet's tricks.
   They cleaned up and Heidi sat down in the corner of his room, putting
her book of sigils together.  She didn't look at him.  When he moved to his
desk, she turned her back to him.
   Aiden narrowed his eyes and stared at her.  What had he done wrong? 
"Did I hurt you?"
   Heidi shook her head.
   He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.  "Did you enjoy
it?" He grinned as her head cocked to the side a moment before she nodded.
   She started as he got to his feet.  Aiden snatched the towel down from
his bathroom door and tossed it over his shoulder.  He checked that his
room was locked and tossed the towel down over his mattress.
   She tugged against him when he pulled on her good arm.  She hated that.
Heidi had told him it was like having both her hands grabbed at the same
time.  He twisted the arm behind her back and marched her over to his bed.
He pinned her arm over her head as he took off the clothes she'd just put
back on.
   She struggled, but not much.  Heidi had a powerful pair of legs and
they'd fought playfully with more vigor.  He climbed on top of her and
thrusted inside her easily.  There was more natural arousal there than
blood this time.  He felt her vaginal walls clench around him.
   He took his time, pulling all the way out and then slamming inside her.
The whole time he looked down at her.  One sky blue eye and the other
alabaster white, no iris, no pupil, a few visible veins in a milky sea.
   Aiden leaned down and kissed her.  She jumped at first and her eyes went
wide.  Frantically, she shook her head.
   He drew a shaky breath and slammed deep inside her.  "You feel that?"
   She nodded.
   "If I didn't like what I was doing, you wouldn't."
   "Violet doesn't have a problem feeling it either."
   "Violet has never felt me come inside her." He kissed her, traced her
lips with his tongue, delved into her mouth.  She tasted sweet and Aiden
brought to mind her fascination with pineapples for breakfast.  When she
began to kiss him back he began to understand why she slurred.  Her tongue
was fat, almost too thick for her mouth, but for kissing, it worked just
fine.  She whimpered and her hand nearly crushed his as her pussy clamped
down on his cock.
   Aiden couldn't have stopped if he wanted to, he gushed inside her, his
own body shaking with his release.  "Fuck."
   They both giggled.
   He kissed her neck as he slowly came down from his high.
   "Aiden?"
   "Hmm?"
   "Thank you for being so honest with me."
   He sat up and looked down at her.  "I don't even have to try with you."
He kissed the top of her head.  "Thank you for being here to keep me from
going insane."
   "I better get up before we get caught." She sat up and frowned at the
blood.
   "I'm going to get you pregnant, without the ritual.  We'll see if your
problems are genetic first.  Okay?"
   This time she sat back from him.  "I hear a pact?"
   "Teach me everything you know about the Zorient.  The things you haven't
been able to tell the others.  Share the secrets with me and I will give my
seed to you until the day I find my wife."
   "Your wife may not like that."
   "You never met Zaira."
   "She was taken from here when she was six."
   "Do you remember being six?"
   "Yeah, a little." She grinned.  "I'll teach you, but I like you ...  a
lot." She lowered her head and put her hand to her chest.  "Here."
   "I know.  That's why I can trust you.  Now say the words."
   "The pact will hold.  The blood will see it true."
   Continued in Part 3.
   <->
Written: November 2012
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com 
  
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