Emily

The girl called herself Emily Dickens.

Emily was finally moving to Chicago with no small issues. For the first time in over three hundred years, her and Andre had to willingly separate to avoid raising suspicions in the regular community. Andre and Isaac had gone first, looking for a safe house and someone who could easily get their IDs done in little time and with little questions. Her and Jane had been left behind in Los Angeles.

She was not looking forward to a car ride with the most annoying fake sister she never asked for.

Now that Emily had decided to accept wearing her own hair colour on occasions, her and Jane looked practically identical. It was just easier for them to pretend to be sisters rather than try and explain that their similarities were a consequence of some magical process that had altered their genes and gave them superpowers.

Better to keep it simple.

Andre and Isaac had been gone for two months, and being the only two tidy people of the group, their old Los Angeles apartment was chaos made flesh.

Emily went to the refrigerator for a snack and found a bra on the milk bottle.

-JANE - she shouted.

A very hungover young man came out of her room giggling. Emily avoided looking at him altogether, especially because he was wearing a tiny pair of pink pants that didn't leave much to the imagination. If only she wasn't concerned with their imminent move, she would have laughed.

Jane came followed him, wearing a sheet as a dress. Her confidence making her even more beautiful than she already was.

-Yes sister? - she asked politely.

Emily rolled her eyes and threw her the bra. -You might want to start packing, we leave in a few hours. -

She left her fake sister to her own fun.

Emiliy's room was tidier, but no amount of magic could have made it clean. Her previous job had been a journalist for the Los Angeles Times, where she could keep an eye on what the media was saying about the recent murders.

After their encounter with the man in black and having saved that child over twenty years before, no murders had happened for a very long time. Now they had begun again, in Chicago.

Being a journalist was fun and all, but the amount of pictures and paperwork she had to bring home every day was inhuman (she should know, being immortal). She was tempted to lit all of her old stuff on fire, but she doubted the landlord would have appreciated the gesture.

Just to release some of her magic, she allowed some sparkles of fire on her fingers. She hasn't been able to claim the fire to its full extent ever since the fight, but she could still warm up a pan for pasta. Some skills were always useful to have in case the electricity went down.

Emily looked at her suitcase and sighed. It was never going to close.

Andre had told her many times to filter her stuff better, bring only the necessary, but to her ... all of it was. It wasn't the clothes or the hair equipment she would miss in her new life, but all of her books, notes, artwork she bought, pictures she took with Sam's camera...

She sat on the suitcase willing it to close with magic. The zipper obeyed with a struggle.

Jane knocked on her door, ready to leave.

Emily had no idea how her friend had managed to kick a guy out of her room, tidy and pack in less than half an hour, but she didn't ask.

The climbed in the blue car they bought with all of their liquidation checks and drove towards Route 66 to Chicago.

Driving time, 30 hours.

Emily took out her phone, a little machine whose tech was still no particularly clear to her, and looked up the recent developments on the Chicago murders.

The headline stated: "March 2018, a woman was found dead in her bed after sending out a Tweet about a revolutionary workout routine. Her husband disappeared and his the first suspect."

"March 2018, a man was found dead under misterious circumstances. His coworker at the University of Chicago stated his research was just about to make an important leap in the colloids field. No suspects have yet been identified."

Jane slapped the phone out of hands.

-Hey!-she complained.

-No more murder talk during our road trip - Jane flashed a smile. - and tell me about Emily. -

Jane always asked that, to describe her the masks. She said it helped her remember to whom she was talking to, but Emily believed she had other reasons.

-Emily is a journalism student with an internship at the police department- she indulged her. - She is quiet and a good listener, unlike her sister Jane, who is a bit of a wildfire -

Jane laughter filled the car as they were passing through Utah. - Bold words from someone who is literally made of fire. - she said. -So you are no longer Giusy? - she asked referring to her previous identity.

-No -

-And you are not yet Emily until we get to Chicago? - she asked again.

-Do you see me as a quiet girl and good listener? - she raised an eyebrow. -I know what you are about to ask, and my answer is no, I will not pick a name for myself. -

Jane drummed with her fingers on the wheel.

-Don't get me wrong - the girl started without taking her eyes off the road. -I get the importance of the mission, I really do. But don't let them take any more of your life than they already have. -

-I am living - she objected. She was not going to have this argument again. -And I cannot believe I am discussing it with you, of all people. You were the one who told me wanted kill the mist people one by one. So far we haven't even managed one. -

Jade bit her lips. -When I will be a given the chance, I will make them suffer for what they made me do. But for now ... being immortal does have some good things about it, you just need to live a bit more. -

But the girl couldn't. She couldn't stand the idea that all of her feelings and ideas had been controlled for so long. She couldn't live in a world knowing that some mistical beings had decided to control its Fate. She wanted to live, but to truly live, all cages had to be gone.

Emily twisted her mouth in disapproval bu said nothing.

-I will make you a deal - said Jane. -You come on with me in Denver, have some fun. Andre and Isaac are waiting for us in an hotel before reaching Chicago. In exchange I will stop bothering you about this name thing and spend the rest of our conversations planning murders. -

If that was a way to shut her up ... plus she hadn't had a drink in what felt like a century. Did they still sell beer in this age?

Denver was cloudy and stuffy just like she had read about in books. The city itself was pretty enough, but nothing in particular captured her attention. After living in so many places, she was not so easily impressed.

The gray buildings looked like walls around the narrow streets. A smokie landscape hid most of the surrounding nature, but Emily could still see the high peaks of the mountains behind them.

Their hotel was the only place in town that required no ID before booking, which meant it was something in between a brothel and a black market. Jane and Emily avoided the curious gazes of the people at the doors when they got out of the car.

Emily put her chin high and wore her shades, walking like she was exactly where she was meant to be. The chatting around them was restored and their sight removed from their memories. They might have thought them high class prostitutes or something.

Isaac heard them coming and opened the door to the fifth room, a small apartment for four people. Emily threw her arms around Andre, careful of not crushing her in her tiny female form, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

The apartment was just as dusty and gray as the rest of the city.

-Never leave me alone with that psycho again- Emily said laughing.

Jane winked at her and told her to wear something pretty for the night and went to lay on the dusty bed.

Isaac passed her the new ID and said nothing more. His hands were unusually twitching as if something was on his mind and he couldn't find a solution.

He avoided her gaze, checked on Andre and gave her a kiss before disappearing into the small kitchen.

She tried to ask for an explanation from Andre, but she also found an excuse and went to the toilette.

Whatever was troubling them, they would sort it out. They always did.