Letha sat at their table, her chin resting on her fist as she glared at the dance floor. The couple she was watching were practically in each other’s pants as they wiggled and thrust around but, out of breath, they finally stopped. The man planted a kiss on her temple as his girlfriend threw back her head and laughed, grabbing his hand and guiding him off the floor. His eyes never drifted from her face as they manoeuvred through the crowd and Letha just shook her head.

“Disgusting,” she muttered.

Suddenly, Mickey came into view, swaying to the music as a girl twirled in front of him. Suddenly the music slowed and she moved in closer, wrapping her arms around Mickey’s neck. He looked a bit startled, but set his hands on her waist. Over her head, his eyes met Letha’s.

“Even more disgusting.”

As if he could hear what she said, Mickey smirked suddenly and winked at her. He bent his head and whispered something in his partner’s ear as he stepped away. She nodded, and twirled away as Mickey approached the table.

“Like what you see?” he asked, still smirking.

Letha rolled her eyes, sneering as she sat up properly. “Not particularly.” She glanced at her watch. “Can we go now?”

Mickey copied the action; 12:47. “I thought I had until 2?”

Looking away, she ground her teeth together, her foot tapping anxiously on the stool’s footrest. “I did the maths; if we leave now I can break Hadrian out of class.”

“And then what?” Mickey asked, leaning on the table, “What do you do after that?”

Dark, determined eyes flashed to his and Letha smiled bitterly. “What I always do; survive.”

He paused, face neutral until he nodded. “Ok. Let’s go.” Mickey pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and slid several notes onto the table. Slipping from her chair, Letha landed on both feet and strode off towards the stairwell, trying to shake off a weight that had settled on her shoulders. She stomped up the stairs, keeping her head bowed and away from the low ceiling as she went. Pressing the door open, she stumbled into daylight, raising a hand to hide her eyes from the glare.

Mickey followed her closely, flinching away from the light. “Geez! I thought winter was supposed to be cold, dark and damp.”

“No, that’s just my heart,” She muttered, turning back to walk down the street.

“Ah,” he snapped his fingers triumphantly, jogging to catch up to Letha. “So you admit you have a heart?”

Letha snorted, shaking her head. “I also have a pair of lungs and a brain.”

“Smart ass,” he muttered.

“Actually,” she pointed to her temple, “Smart head. That’s basic biology, Sherlock; do try to keep up.”

They arrived quickly at the car, walking in tense silence, and as they passed Lezzetli Mickey hesitated. He thought he should go in, apologise to Min again, but he honestly didn’t know what to say. How do you explain Letha to anyone? It was easier to keep walking, to use the key to unlock the passenger side door and gesture Letha inside and then clamber into the car himself. It was easier to ignore everybody else and just focus on the two of them.

“You still have a question to ask,” Mickey reminded her as he pulled out onto the street.

Letha pressed her hand against the cool window. “I know.”

“Are you going to ask it?”

“Not yet,” irritated, she threw her hands in the air, “What the hell am I supposed to ask?”

Mickey’s eyebrows flew to his hairline, but he didn’t look at her.

“Whatever you want. It’s hardly like you to be struck speechless?” he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not speechless,” She squirmed around, facing away from him. “I’m bored.”

“You’re bored?”

“Yes. You’re boring.”

“I’m boring?”

“Stop copying what I say! You’re boring and I don’t want to know anything about you… you or your family,” Letha drummed her fingers on the glass, staring at her chewed, jagged nails. “My life was simple before all you idiots came along.”

Mickey sniggered. “’Idiots’? Thanks so much.”

“Note how you didn’t deny it,” she bit back dryly.

“What I don’t understand is how it’s our fault.”

“You sought me out!” Swivelling around in outrage, she gripped her seat until her knuckles went white and began to ache.

“No,” Mickey shook his head, smirking slightly. Letha was glaring at him, her eyes seething, as she fought the urge to punch him. Her restraint continued even as the boy continued. “We were seeking your father.”

Hands flying to her temples, Letha growled and flicked her gaze to the window. “Why?”

He laughed humourlessly. “You’re kidding, right?” Letha didn’t respond. Raking his hair out of his eyes, Mickey ground his teeth together. “Your father and uncles are the worst thing this planet has seen in two thousand years. Everywhere they go, they leave a wake of destruction, pain, anger and fear behind them.”

“We,” She whispered as her head swung to face him, expression carefully blank. “Everywhere we go.”

“The last time,” Mickey barked out, “There was this much evil on earth, a guy and his family built a boat big enough to hold a small zoo. But at least then it was spread throughout the entire population not seven people.”

“Nine,” she said again, this time looking back to the window, “Nine people … and a few rowdy vampires.”

Adamant, he shook his head. “No… no. Hadrian’s not even a little bit like that. And you…”

Letha raised a brow, but stayed facing away from him. “And I?”

“And you…” Mickey shifted his grip on the steering wheel. “Are different.”

“Well shucks.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Mickey’s eyes darted to the side of the road. An old sedan was parked off the bitumen, bonnet open and steaming. A frazzled young woman appeared at the front, holding a spanner at arm’s length. Mickey pulled over.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Letha demanded, casting an angry glance over her shoulder. They were a hundred metres in front of the vehicle and as Letha watched, a wild-eyed brunette turned around and smiled at them.

Mickey unbuckled. “Helping.”

“You really don’t want to do that.”

As he opened his door, he swung his head back to cast her a flat look. “I know I’ll regret asking this but ‘why not’?”

“Because nothing good ever comes from helping strangers.” Stubbornly, Letha folded her arms across her chest.

Frustrated, he shook his head. “If you had your way, I’d never help anybody.”

“That sounds about right.”

Mickey made a noise, climbing out of his car. “Well that’s not good enough for me. You don’t what to help? Fine; stay in the car.”

“Fine,” Letha snapped, “but if I get axe-murdered because of you, I’m going to…” before she could finish her threat, Mickey had swung his head back into the car. One arm was laid across the roof, his other extended to hold the door frame. He looked exhausted.

“More regret, I’m sure, but what?”

She looked at him like he was thick, disdain dripping from her sneer. “Seemingly innocent strangers are never actually innocent. In fact, they are usually criminals and usually out to kill you in the most excruciating and tortuous way possible.”

“Says who?” Mickey snapped, drumming his fingers on the car.

“TV. Books. News.” She listed them on her fingers, “The list goes on.”

“How do you,” he asked, squinting, “have time for, or even access to, TV, books and news?”

Letha’s lip twitched. “That’s for me to know…”

“…and me to find out?”

“Not if I can help it,” she mumbled, twisting away from him.

Mickey was abruptly away of the change in the air, and he frowned. “Letha?”

She leant forward slightly, and curls spilled into her face. Beneath, she took a deep breath, grinding her teeth together, and then dragged her chin up to give him a cold look.

“Go save the axe-murderer, Sherlock.”

His mouth opened and then snapped shut. Throwing his arms in the air he slammed the door and strode away, offering a polite smile to the agitated woman beside the car. Watching grimly in the rear vision, Letha very deliberately pressed the lock down on her door, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Bloody idiot.”

Eyes still trained on the mirror, she watched him bend over the engine, the girl clucking animatedly beside him. The rough tap on her window made her jump in her seat, but she swallowed and managed to turn her head slowly instead. Her eyes met the metal barrel of a gun, traced the arm to a thick set man in a motorbike helmet and leather jacket, and her glare deepened.

“Dammit Sherlock.”

As she spoke, the other door was heaved open, and Mickey peeked in. For a moment Letha was swarmed by panic, betrayal slipping through her veins, but he craned his neck down slightly, and she noticed the gun aimed at the back of his head. The brunette behind him was smiling softly, almost apologetically, and her wrist that held the gun was practically limp. She thought about waiting for him to launch into action and knock the gun from her hand, but as he smiled sheepishly at her, she thought she could be waiting for a while.

“In my defence…” Mickey took a deep breath as she shot him a look, as if daring him to finish that thought. He swallowed and did. “In my defence, they don’t have axes.”