There was no bag. Body tense, Nathaniel waited by the window. I stepped deeper into the living room, dark eyes searching the small space for a trap.

     Keeping a safe distance between us, I looked at Nathaniel expectantly. The anticipation was dreadful.

     Grey eyes studied me, but he made no move to speak. I shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze.

     "No pamphlet?" I asked in mocked surprise.

     His crooked nose twitched upwards, as if in irritation.

     "We don't have much time," he said. Why? Was there a timeline are their ruining of my life? His voice was startling, smooth and calm in contrast to his rugged features and serious stance.

      I let my gaze linger on him. It was always good to get a good look of your rival. Pale lips naturally turned downward, it served to deepen his brooding look. He had visibly recent scratches and bruises, and a thick scar cutting across his Adam's apple and deep into his neckline. His plain white shirt hung loosely on his body, but still, I could tell that the cotton hid years of muscles. Noting the size of his hands and the bulging veins in his forearms, fear returned. It didn't matter that no weapons were visible, he wouldn't need any to overpower me.

      I searched his mind, thinking my only chance was the anticipation of his actions. Crossing that mental line to his mind, I nearly recoiled. Mixture of intense emotions indecipherable, his mind was incredibly unpleasant. Rather than try to dig deeper, I tried to repel any thoughts that slipped him. He was the definition of a walking headache.

      Lost in thought, I jumped when he spoke again.

      "I'll keep this brief," he started. I detected no accent, but he spoke differently than most people around here. There was no slang or shift in tone. He chose his every word carefully and ensured the pronunciation of every syllable. "What do you know of the Legion of Boogdae?"

      Frowning with every muscle in my face, I was so convinced that he was spluttering nonsense to distract me that I nearly forgot to answer.

     "Nothing." I answered stupidly.

     Grey eyes studied me skeptically, but finally he nodded as if satisfied with my answer. I didn't want to imagine what would have happened had he not come to believe me.

     "You have no idea why we're here?"

     "Not a clue!" I replied incredulously, hoping my deep confusion was etched clearly in my tone and features.

      Again, he studied me carefully, but rather than nod, this time his eyes flashed with pity.

     "That's unfortunate," he answered, features returned to their natural state of inexpressive. "But you're clearly a child of the Legion and your existence has been reported. We, the Burkhard's are the protectors; it's our duty to bring you in for questioning."

     Brows shooting into my hairline, I took a step further from him. It sounded like he was part of a cult, and I wanted no part of that.

     "You're not bringing me anywhere."

     He showed no bother to my lack of compliance. He simply seemed bored.

     "It would be unwise to defy us," he warned. "We are under strict orders to bring you to our headquarters. There, you will be held under our arrest until the trial in three days' time."

     "What?" I demanded indignantly. I suddenly didn't care if my parents overheard. Let them come to my rescue. God knew someone had to. "I don't know who you're looking for, but I haven't done anything to warrant an arrest or trial!"

     "Whether you comply or not, the Council will get what they want. My aunt and I mean no harm. If you don't follow us today, you stand no chance. The Council will judge you unfairly." He spoke so seriously that I truly believed that he believed what he was saying. I believed he meant no harm, but that didn't make me any less reluctant to follow them. I didn't like the evident distaste in his tone when he spoke of the Council. Whoever they were, they didn't sound friendly.

     "We'll explain everything later, but I'm afraid for now, we're running out of time." He still sounded sincere. "You will tell your parents that you'll give the program a try, and that you'll be leaving for a few days. You will not tell them anything about the Legion of Boogdae. The Legion can be harsh when faced with a threat, don't take my warning lightly. Leave your family out of this."

     Just as he finished speaking, my parents, followed by Aadya joined us. Heart racing in my chest, I felt a sudden surge of panic. I had to make a decision... And there was no way I would ever choose the option that placed my family danger.

     "Is everything alright?" my father asked, noting my tense posture. Finally, I noted some concern on their features.

      I nodded weakly, still carefully observing Nathaniel. Logic told me that he was the enemy. Logic told me that I should take my family and run as far as I could, but something, very deep in my gut, told me I could trust him. He had advised me to be careful in the woods. He was under strict orders; he wanted no part of this. He wished me only safety, but did it matter what he wanted if he was under someone else's control? If he was ordered to bring me to my death, would he do so even in spite of his own morals?

     Swallowing a groan as every part of me thought I was making a mistake; I made my choice.

      "I'm going to give the program a shot," I forced out, words sour in my mouth.

      Miserable I watched my parents erupt in excited chatter. With feigned surprise, Aadya added to their excitement, giving them more invented information. I told them about the few days I'd be gone and prayed that I meant the promise to return.

      Dreadfully I packed my things, only rushing when my brothers came out of their room and took interest in Nathaniel. Grey eyes studying the two boys as intently as they had me, I rushed them upstairs. I didn't want the Burkhard's taking an interest in Jack and Connor.

     I figured he was trying to determine if they too were children of the Legion —whatever that meant. Children made me think this was genetic; as if I hadn't done anything, except being born, to warrant qualifying for their colt. When they didn't push to speak to the boys, I surmised that this had to do with my birth mother. They must have put together that my brothers and I didn't share the same mom. It took no genius to note the evident difference in our appearances. Jack and Connor were the spitting image of my mother, Sophia, with pale freckled faces, and curly red hair. Their pale skin even more translucent in contrast to my olive skin tone, their Irish genes were quite prominent. I bore no Irish traits. I took after my father, dark hair, and eyes, with hair that frizzed out of control in this humidity.

     My birth mother had abandoned me only a few days after my birth, leaving me for my father to find. I had not a single memory of her, yet somehow, she had the audacity to turn my life upside down.

      Dragging my bags down the stairs, stomach a whirling mess, I followed our grey-eyed visitors to their old truck. Only three seats in the rusty vehicle, I was squashed in the middle. No chance of running.

       My family saw me off with bright smiles. I tried to hide my worry, hoping that it wouldn't be the last I saw of them. I would hold hope for my return in a few days' time... But my instincts told me the short trip would not go as plan.