Urgh. I winced when I felt the effects of the alcohol shimmer and finally dissipate from within my system.

I never had it in mind to be a drinker - even before I'd realized that I wouldn't get to experience alcohol's full effects - but there were times that I wished that I could use that to ease at least some of the tension I constantly harboured.

Sighing, I gently shoved the emptied glass away from me. Rather than give in and hurl the bloody thing across the bar counter, I poised my elbows on the counter's smooth surface and buried my face in my hands, letting the previous night's events finally sink in.

All this time when I'd stupidly thought that I had finally found a place where Et Kar would never dream to look for me, it didn't even occur once that he literally was the freaking shadows.

Which meant that everywhere I went, as long as there was a shadow lingering in any corner or a seemingly harmless layer of darkness either seen or unseen, he would always find me.

I was sure, that even as I sat, either he or his goons could be watching me right now in the dim lighting of the bar.

Damn it! I immediately wished the glass was still in my hands so that I could have something to fully exert my frustration on.

The barman, Cleo, caught sight of my curling fists when he returned from serving his customers and immediately grabbed the glass completely out of reach, promptly narrowing his eyes.

"Don't worry," I shook my head to try and clear away the disturbing thoughts whilst staring down at my apparently not-so-delicate palms, "I'm not going to break anything."

"I hope not," he grunted, stocking the glass away. "Otherwise I'd be forced to transport your sorry backside to the sheriff's station."

My lips quirked before I could help it. I looked up, glancing past his casual wear and growing stubble. "I could always use my eyes on you."

"I dare you to try." He shrugged his shoulders twice, as if to accentuate his muscular physique. "I'd maim you before you could even flash those worthless shades off."

A small laugh escaped my lips, though it felt kind of strange to utter out a genuine one. "I don't doubt that at all, Soldier."

He rolled his eyes in reply before taking out another order to serve. "Don't leave yet, I'll be back," he said before walking away.

Cleo was the only adult in this whole town that didn't see me as an outsider. It certainly hadn't been that way at first, but after my frequent visits to the bar and little civil conversations here and there, the big, burly and slightly hairy man opened up to me.

In his forties, he wasn't nearly as judgemental as the others, so it wasn't that hard to break through his resolve. We weren't close since we had just got to know each other, but I was kind of glad that we weren't enemies either.

Left alone once again, I turned my attention back to my hands, vaguely listening to the slight murmurings and drunken laughter of the seated men.

Inwardly, I somehow felt bad for Cleo. He'd used to have more customers than there were now. However, ever since people started grasping the fact that I'd be visiting here quite frequently, most stopped coming altogether.

Bastards.

Out of habit, I tucked my hair behind my ear when a strand fell towards my right eye. Though for some weird reason, I let my fingers linger, out of the blue remembering the queer feelings a certain stranger managed to erupt within me with just a single touch...

I straightened.

All thoughts leading to the mysterious wolf-man fled as a peculiar presence prickled my senses as it drifted across the bar's atmosphere.

Without thinking, I swiftly fixed my gaze onto the entrance and was stunned to see a huge male donned in black making his way towards me.

When I sensed him at first, I'd assumed him to be the stranger from last night, or even Et Kar, but I'd immediately ruled out the latter since there was too much daylight to accommodate his full essence. The former remained an option, however, but I ruled that out too when I looked into the newcomer's eyes.

I almost toppled off the stool I was perched on. His eyes looked exactly like mine!

Though not exactly actually, since the sclera sections of both his eyes were white whereas mine were black. Regardless, they were almost an exact replica of what I saw each time I peeked in the mirror.

To say I was merely surprised would be an understatement. They looked too surreal and enchanting to be normal.

"Staring is rude, Kid," I heard him say in a gruff baritone after he'd taken his seat beside me. "Try not to get used to it."

I should've been annoyed by his surly statement plus his reference to me as a child, but I just couldn't tear my eyes off of him. My eyebrows furrowed in concentration as I took in his hunched figure perched on the barstool, silently waiting for God-knows-what.

Who the hell is this?

Not bothering to be discreet, I openly scanned his outfit: black leather jacket, black shirt, and matching black jeans.

My eyes moved up.

The newcomer's dark hair harboured streaks of white - I noted as I proceeded to examine the side of his face - and I would've assumed it was due to old age had I not seen his face before he'd taken his seat.

He appeared more matured and much older than I - though I was sure his age was just below Cleo's and not older - with his large size and chiselled looks.

I scanned his face again.

Definitely not older.

"Do I have to serve my own drinks now?" he asked the empty space in front of the counter, sounding pissed, before he turned to me. "Where's the bar guy?"

Again, I ignored his statement and focused on him instead.

His tanned complexion complimented his blackish hair which laid slightly curled on his forehead and around his ears and neck.

He had laugh-lines margining both eyes and possessed a strange kind of beauty engraved on his face that seemed too surreal even as it stared right at me.

The obvious fact that he didn't seem at all phased by my presence only proved that he was a complete outsider.

The newcomer grunted when he picked up on the nonparticipation on my end. "Didn't picture myself to be that good-looking-"

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I cut him off, knowing he would have gotten on my nerves if I'd let him finish.

He shrugged. "Visiting my grandparents," then added, "Not that it's any of your business."

My right brow quirked. I knew I was butting into his privy, but his presence alone made me curious. Too curious.

Not to mention that the few people in the bar were casting glances at his frame as well - I'd noted the moment I'd turned my head to eye those behind us when their murmurings had suspiciously died down.

If it wasn't a reason to be wary enough, Cleo was currently making his way towards us with an intense frown upon his face. Which by the way deepened when his gaze flickered to the stranger's for a minute.

Initially, I would've brushed his frown off as nothing since he rarely smiled, but something in the way he strode towards us caused a prickle of unease to gush down my spine.

The newcomer beside me too must have had an intuition - either that or he must have picked up the sudden change in the atmosphere due to my lack of response - because he casually turned away from the counter and got to his feet, as if nothing was amiss.

"You better leave now," Cleo whispered tensely in my ear even while pretending as if he was reaching over me for something on the counter. He then nodded discreetly towards the stranger, and I could partially tell that he seemed pissed off by the man's presence. "And take Doe Eyes with you."

In turn, I felt the stranger's body stiffen in offence. "Doe Eyes?" he repeated with a growl. "What about I call you Bear Ass? Asshole."

Cleo narrowed his eyes at him, not appreciating the subtle humour, but I didn't want to stick around to hear what he'd say in retaliation. "Thanks, Cleo, but I don't know him, so he can stay for as long as he likes." I slid off the stool and eyed the men watching us. "I'm leaving now."

"So soon, Witch?" One of those bastards suddenly swooped in on the conversation, making his way towards us with the rest of his mates sitting back and watching with unmasked mixtures of interest and anticipation etched on their drunken faces. The approaching fellow had a small knife in his right hand - an object that he was carelessly using in an attempt to shorten his filthy fingernails.

Ignoring them all, I dropped what little money I had on the counter and turned to walk out, fixing to leave the weird newcomer to decide for himself.

But I didn't get the chance when he instantly grabbed my arm and ordered smoothly with a glare. "Don't leave yet."

"Yeah," the drunkard snickered. "Don't leave yet, Witch. We want to play around a little. Come join us." He diverted his slightly hazy gaze behind me and smirked widely at the man still gripping my arm. "Even Doe Eyes can tag along too."

An animalistic noise reverberated from the stranger's chest so suddenly that my whole body jerked and vibrated with the motion. In a minute I was being pushed aside and the brooding shadow of a man appeared right beside me.

"Someone call me Doe Eyes one more time-"

"Enough!" Cleo moved to stand before us and pointed a threatening finger at the stranger. "Drop it, Mik. Don't mess with anyone in my bar."

Mik? I stifled in my surprise. Cleo knows this guy?

"Micaiah," Mik announced sarcastically when I'd faced him with an astonished expression, his head inclined to meet my gaze. "Nice to meet you too."

"I mean it," Cleo gritted out in irritation before addressing the man who was struggling to compose himself on his two feet. "No need to start a worthless fight. They're leaving." He glanced our way with a glare, indicating that that was our cue.

"Well then," Micaiah started to say before leading the way out of the bar, "I'll see you idiots around."

"We're counting on it, Doe Eyes." The others snickered at the nickname just as Micaiah stiffened beside me.

He turned his head to eye the man returning to his cycle of friends and licked his upper teeth, his expression darkening to one of devilry and flat-out murder.

Truthfully, I didn't know what to make of the look in his eyes. Micaiah appeared so much like a deadly predator at that moment that I didn't know whether to be entranced or extremely cautious since I couldn't decipher the meaning behind those emotions.

Cleo did though. Because the second a weird golden glint flashed across Micaiah's pupils, Cleo stormed towards us and shoved him hard on his shoulders.

"Don't you dare think about it," he growled in a low baritone. "Not in this town."

The recipient of Cleo's anger merely grinned, though his expression held no mirth. "Relax, Bear Ass," he reassured before he opened the exit for me to walk out first. "I promise to behave."

Cleo growled out a "you'd better" before he pushed him out and slammed the door in his face.

"Damn that idiot," Micaiah muttered while turning to face me, but caught himself in the process when his gaze landed on my face.

"What the hell?"

I started slightly when I heard him cuss and furrowed my eyebrows as I watched his intent gaze trail down my figure.

Following his line of sight, I then realized in amusement what had him so mesmerized.

Unknowingly, a little smile grazed the edges of my lips. "Think you're the only one who can be scary?"

He didn't reply for a moment, hesitation clear in his gaze. "I'll admit this little stunt caught me by surprise."

"It's not a stunt," I felt the need to say, unconsciously placing a hand on my left arm and rubbing the skin slowly, "I've had this condition for a very long time."

"Ever since you were born?" he asked, clearing his throat as he continued to stare, although I was positive he already knew the answer.

Nevertheless, I still felt the desire to confirm. And I did so, softly, "Ever since I was born."

The admission, for some reason, seemed to stun him even more. But before I could voice out my confusion at his reaction, he shortened the distance between us in a matter of seconds and glowered down at me, as if I'd offended him in some way.

His abrupt mood swing made me flinch back in shock but not before he grabbed my arm roughly to keep me from backing away further.

"Take off your glasses."

I wrenched my arm out of his grip and instinctively secured my shades in place with both hands. "Are you crazy?!"

He brushed my statement aside. "Take them off," he repeated, and I caught a faint flicker of gold shimmer across his pupils.

My eyes widened a little. "What's wrong with you?" I asked, my voice loaded with concern and a small dose of trepidation. I couldn't help it. Something was obviously troubling him, and it seemed to be so the second he witnessed my skin change colour.

But then what prompted him to want to see my eyes bare? It didn't make any sense.

His clenched his teeth in frustration and I had a distinct feeling that he was holding back a lot more emotion than he was displaying. "I just need to see them."

I shook my head, feeling my own frustration rise. "I can't. You could die."

"I won't," he argued, sounding so certain that I almost believed it was possible. "Just take them off!"

I shook my head again, firmly this time. "What the hell is - no stop!"

Despite the firm hold I had on my shades, Micaiah managed to snatch the object from my fingers, forcing me to shut my eyes.

"Dammit, Kid. Open your eyes!" He grabbed my shoulders and shook them violently.

"I can't!" I yelled back, feeling anger well up within my chest, making me breathe harder. Did this fool want to get hurt?!

Why do you care? A little voice taunted at the back of my mind. It's not like you haven't killed before, Lena.

My fists clenched.

You've done it before, you can do it again.

Heaven knew I couldn't deny that. But for an inexplicable reason, I felt like I couldn't hurt Micaiah. There was just something about him that made me confused. It wasn't the same emotions I'd encountered with the wolf-man, but something else entirely new.

However, with the amount of frustration, confusion and anger coursing through my veins, I didn't bother to waste time in figuring out the queer connection I felt towards Micaiah.

If he wants to see it so bad, let him have a look.

For once, I allowed myself to be persuaded by my inner voice.

What did I care about him? I had just met the man. And for all I knew, he could be just like Erik or any other bastard in this town wanting to get his fill of me.

Besides, when did I start caring about those around me apart from Ellie? I didn't carelessly hurt people in this town because I needed to remain a resident. But ever since I'd realized how stupid I was to disbelieve that Et Kar would always be able to find me, I gave up trying to blend in and finally let go of the reins on my restraint.

No matter what kind of aura Micaiah emitted, he was no more an outsider than I was.

The fact that I even cared that he would, by all means, lose his life made me even more enraged, and it was that embraced feeling that had me snapping my eyes open to expose them to his sight.

However, right before I could realize what was happening, a giant force crashed against my neck and engulfed it in a tight squeeze.

Micaiah's face had transformed within the second into someone completely unrecognizable and monstrous that made that bright gold colour threaten to consume his pupils.

My eyes widened in trepidation just as I gasped hoarsely for air.

He wasn't going crazy.

"Tell me where the hell she is!"

☆~☆~☆