My mind is a blank space. I've been staring at the blank wall ever since the detention began, and I just can't seem to make sense of it.

It's never been a blank space since the beginning of time. I could always, always read a person, hear his thoughts, manipulate his feelings and control his circumstances. I could influence his destiny, I could shape it. 

There were three of us, the Fates: The Moirai. Atropos was the eldest and the most powerful - she was the Destroyer, she terminated the threads of life. She could destroy everything at the bat of an eyelash. Klotho was the middle child, and as most middle children, was the most troubled one. She was the weaver, the spinner of destinies. She was powerful, yes, but not as much as Atropos. Klotho longed for recognition and fame, she believed Atropos' role was insignificant.

And then there was me: The youngest Moirai sister, Lachesis. The sustainer. The reason why I could shape a person's fate and affect his circumstances. I mold the thread, I decide how the paths would be. 

Together, we were powerful beyond imagination. We were higher than the angels and even the Gods. Our supremacy was unmatched.

Until Lucifer happened.

If Klotho was jealous of Atropos before, after Lucifer, she completely detested her. Lucifer was the last straw, and Klotho snapped. She backstabbed Atropos, and cursed her when she was weak, casting her out of the heavens and into the mortal realm. 

Klotho led a mutiny, and the control shifted. Angels were forced to take sides, and those who stood up for Atropos were mercilessly butchered. Klotho was crowned Queen. 

I realized that I had to find Atropos, and I couldn't do that when I was constantly watched over by Klotho. I decided to flee, and Keegan decided to flee with me. 

And then, you know the story. 

Here I am, attending high school detention, forced to look after a kid who certainly has issues; when I am supposed to be looking for one of my sisters, and hiding from the other sister.

What a fucking mess.

Last time Lucifer called me, he was letting Kaitie - Atropos' mortal form - go to college in California. Kaitie apparently couldn't stand the sight of his mortal form, and he did not want to attend college himself, and he decided some time apart would do them good.

Hopefully it would. Lucifer is the King of Hell, and The Devil, but moping around like a love-sick puppy around a girl who doesn't even remember being his wife wouldn't be good for the Lucifer brand, I tell you.

But the guy is whipped and he certainly doesn't care. 

Ever since I've been in hiding, my powers have been in check. I couldn't majorly alter futures or destinies without sending out energies that would alert Klotho, so all I can do to remind myself of my heavenly existence is read people's thoughts and the occasional teleporting and the History teacher falling down the stairs every lunch hour.

And now, I can't even do that. 

Not once did Abercrombie take out his earphones. I sat a couple of seats away from him, looking at him every two seconds, but he didn't acknowledge any of it. And I've been around long enough to know that earphones meant "Not interested to talk."

So I tried doing what I was best at, reading his thoughts, and then utterly failing. It was just like when he came in; I couldn't get a thing. He wasn't even humming whatever shit he was listening to, nor was he bitching about his newfound babysitter. 

Hmmm. Interesting.

Moving on to reading him. 

He was Hot, with a capital H, I give him that. Those gray eyes were chilling and smoking at the same time, lazily shifting over a textbook. His long brown hair fell into his eyes, but he made no move to get them off. He was reading fast, reading quick, but he was focused on it alone.

Concentrated.

He wore a faded gray hoodie, with the hood back up, so I couldn't see more of his chiseled profile. The knees of his black jeans were ripped, and he wore sneakers that had seen better days.

Not well off.

My eyes fall to his fingers as they turn the pages. He has rough, calloused hands. The area around his knuckles are slightly bruised, like he is healing from a bad fistfight. As he raises his palm to rest his jaw, I notice the crescent shaped scars on the inside of his palm. 

Works hard. Fights. Stressed.

His knee jerks up and down. He moves every couple of seconds - turning the page, scratching his nose, pushing the earphones further in, changing the song. 

Active. Wayyyyy active.

His eyes narrow, his jaw grits. Must be why he must have such a sharp jawline. He probably has the habit of grounding his teeth. A vein pops in his neck. 

Has anger - 

'Would you quit staring?' He growls. 

Yup. Definitely has anger issues. 

I don't back off, or turn away in fright as he levels his cold, calculating gaze on me. I clench my jaw and stare back - if he was deadly, I knew the Devil.

Hell, I'm Devil's sister-in-law.

Haha.

He mutters something like 'Bitch' before turning back to his book. Ms. Denovan informs us that our detention hour is up. 

Before I could even get up, Abercrombie is out the door. 

Ms. Denovan throws me a pointed look, and motions to follow him. 

I groan, and pick up my bag, before sprinting after Abercrombie. 

This is going to be harder than I thought.

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