**

The Streets

Janelle woke up, feeling lightheaded and bleary. She looked around, seeing bright lights that only succeeded in making her eyes hurt. She moaned, covering her eyes. Though, that didn't stop the loud noise from giving her a headache.

"Good, you're awake."

The voice cut through her unfocused mind, making her realize that she was leaning against something soft. It took her only a few moments to put two and two together.

Bates had kidnapped her.

She sat up immediately, regretting it only for a moment as the blood rushed from her brain making her dizzy. A hand on her shoulder steadied her.

"How are you feeling?" Bates asked.

"Why do you care?" Janelle managed to glare—to hide her fear—despite the haziness of her mind.

"I am hurt that you asked," he put his other hand on his heart as if to emphasize his point but the smirk on his face deceived that. "After all, I am your 'uncle'," he mocked her.

"I can run and make a scene," she challenged.

"Try that, I bound you to me."

She stared at him.

"Barnett's not the only one who's a mage," he grumbled.

"So you're a shaman yourself and bent on killing shamans? Hypocrite."

"I see that Barnett has already pushed his views onto you," Bates rolled his eyes. "Mages  aren't shamans. We are far superior to shamans. We see spirits, yes, but we control elements and create things when shamans can only communicate with spirits. How pathetic."

"Communicate and Control, please," Janelle replied, a little smirk lingering over the edge of her lips.

Bates narrowed his eyes.

"Now you're talking like him. This whole 'Communicate and Control' thing of his doesn't work. The spirits are stronger than you, they can control you."

"You haven't bothered reading about shamans, have you?"

Bates stayed silent but Janelle wasn't sure if she won the argument or not. She watched him as he looked at his watch. That was when she realized where she was.

They were at the airport.

Her eyes widened as she remembered him saying something about going to England. She sat up straighter in surprise. "You're not taking me to England!" she exclaimed.

"Or would I?" It was his turn to smirk. He stood up, forcing her to get up as well.

She winced at the pain that shot through her leg. "Why are you taking me?" she asked frantically once the pain subdued into nothing but a mere, albeit hot, discomfort.

Bates smiled and it was no way reassuring.

"I have something to deal with, and you're the only one I know who could..." he paused, searching for the right word, "benefit me."

Janelle tried to walk away, ignoring the stinging in her left foot, but an invisible barrier of some sorts hindered her movement after three or so steps. A strand of hair fell over her eyes. That was when she saw her hair wasn't blonde.

Her hair was black.

"W-what?" she asked in disbelief, clutching a handful of her now-black hair.

Bates acted as if he didn't notice what was going on. Instead, he walked—Janelle was forced to follow him—towards the gate that led them to their plane.

"You dyed my hair?" she all but shrieked, earning herself a few stares from people.

"Quiet," he hissed in her ear, then whispered some foreign words in her ear that she couldn't understand. When he talked again, it was in French. "I have half a mind to just kill you and be over with it, but I need you alive for a couple more days. Now be a good girl and shut your mouth."

**

The flight didn't take more than one hour and thirty minutes, and Janelle hadn't had the time to actually admire the view the height had provided them. The trip had been spent mostly in silence, neither Bates nor Janelle wanted to talk. Though, Bates had kept murmuring 'the sooner the better' under his breath.

Janelle didn't want to know what he planned to do with her, she only knew that he was keeping her alive for something; whether it was bad or good, she didn't care. She only wanted to stay alive. She had decided on the plane that she would run away once she finished what he wanted her to do. She didn't know how to go back to France, unfortunately, but she knew she could find a way. Maybe, even if she didn't like the idea, get some help from the spirits around.

They had arrived in London sometime after breakfast, and it was then when Janelle remembered she didn't have her passport with her; she hadn't brought anything at all.

"Come on, walk." He pushed her forwards—gently because they were surrounded by people—to start walking. They passed the security gates, and to her surprise, he had both of their passports with him.

He seemed to have somehow read her mind because he spoke again, "I live in London, and you'll be living with me until everything is taken care of."

Maybe this 'everything' would talk a long while, by then her brothers would have found her? Or Tony since he was a mage? Or maybe it gave her enough time to figure out a better plan of running away.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she was pushed again. She glared up at Bates.

"Don't look at me like that," he murmured and pushed at his temples tiredly. "Might as well start talking in English," he switched from French to English in little time that Janelle didn't have time to translate whatever he had said.

"We are in England," she complied unknowingly, the reality of the situation dawned on her at that moment. "Why did you bring me here?" She drawled, feeling that her English was a bit broken. The R's sounded terrible to her ears.

Bates ignored her and kept walking. She stomped after him, regretting it when hot pain shot from her leg through her spine. "Where are we going?" She managed to say through gritted teeth; the pain became unbearable with each step they took.

Bates looked at her over his shoulder, and something flashed in his eyes for a brief moment; something akin to sorrow and kindness, a mixture of both...but it disappeared just as quick and Janelle wondered if she had imagined it at all.

"Why didn't Barnett heal you with his magic if he was so great?" Bates scoffed, his face full of disdain. "But I don't use my magic as a healing tool, so you will learn to cope with the pain."

Janelle rolled her eyes despite the torrid pain. "He did not know any healing spells," she defended but he ignored her. 

They walked for almost twenty minutes before Bates stopped and by then, Janelle was sure that her foot was bleeding. She could almost feel the wet, sticky blood seeping out, along with her energy that she felt as weak as when she cut her foot on that shard of glass.

Janelle was about to cry and complain, but Bates gestured for her to stay quiet. He seemed focused on something at a distance from them; a cloaked man. She thought about irking her uncle but the man he was focused on appeared to be someone dangerous. She looked back at her uncle and found him looking at her in...worry?

She hid her surprise when he suddenly knelt down to be eye-level with her. "I need you to act as if I am your father," he whispered slowly in her ears, running his fingers quickly through her hair.

He could pull off as her father. He looked awfully similar to him, people even mistook them as twins. He had the Chevalier's signature blonde wavy hair and pale blue eyes. He had the same chiselled face as her father, and he was slightly shorter despite being older, but it could go unnoticed. She hated to say it but even their personalities were close, though the only difference Bates was more devoted to the family when her father worshipped his job.

A warm sensation tingled through her scalp and before she knew it, it was gone. She moved her hands to see what was wrong but was stopped when Bates grasped her hands tightly and moved them to her sides. He was looking intently into her eyes now; she shivered.

"Very well," he muttered under his breath, brushing a lock of her soft hair behind her ear. "Let's get this over with," he mumbled under his breath but Janelle heard him anyway.

The cloaked man seemed to look straight at them. His mouth was the only thing visible; it was turned up at the corner to form a small smile. He walked towards them, taking off his hood as he did. He had short black hair and slanted eyes. He held white beads in his right hand. Janelle sensed vibes coming off from the beads; a bad vibe. She shivered.

"Good morning, sir," the man nodded his head. He definitely had an accent. "I believe you are Mr. Frédéric, sir." The man knew her father, it was obvious. He used his name with ease as if they had talked before. "My name is Masato Hiro, sir." The man, Masato—or Hiro, she wasn't sure—smiled.

"Ah, yes," Bates replied, clutching Janelle's left hand tightly. "Is everything ready? I have brought my girl with me." He put his hand on Janelle's head almost affectionately. "We need to cure her."

Cure her?

Her eyes widened. That somehow explained the bad vibes coming off the beads.

Masato directed a small, sad smile at Janelle. "Ah, the curse she's under. Seeing ghosts?" he asked, looking at Janelle.

She just stared at him with wide eyes. She looked around in panic, noticing for the first time how the street was crowded. It was fairly empty a few minutes ago. One of the passersby glanced at Janelle, then stopped abruptly. He stared for a bit, and Janelle held his gaze.

"You can see me?" he asked cautiously.

Janelle was hesitant at first to respond but then she nodded.

"Are you dead as well? But it's strange, you don't appear so dead to me," he joked.

Janelle just stared at him with wide eyes.

A gentle shake of her shoulders seemed to get her out of the trance she was in. She looked back at her uncle, then the man in front of her; she was surprised to find herself breathing heavily. "See? I am sure she was talking to a ghost just now," Bates murmured sadly.

Something snapped inside her; making her glare at the man she called 'her uncle'. She pushed his hands off of her shoulders and stepped backwards.

"You brought me all the way from Toulouse to 'cure' me?" she cried out, earning a few stares from the people, living and not dead this time. "I am not cursed!"

"Darling, be quiet, you're making a scene," Bates managed to say through his gritted teeth.

"This is not a good way to speak to your father," Masato admonished, frowning at Janelle.

"He's not..." she paused. She heard something humming, soft and low. It was like something was calling for her. Wanting her.

We're everywhere. We look out for you. Death has ordered us to.

Those voices. They are speaking to her again. Was someone dying?

Every day, every hour, every second someone dies. No one is dying around you yet.

Yet? It meant that someone was going to be dead, and Janelle didn't want to witness it. She looked around, quickly surveying the area in an attempt to figure out where the voices were coming from.

We're not spirits. We're Death's helpers. We're protecting you. Death is protecting you.

Protecting her from what? Janelle wanted to ask them, but Masato was looking deeply, unnervingly into her eyes.

"I am not cursed," she heard herself say. She felt as if hypnotised, the same feeling she got whenever Tony ordered her. "I hear them, I speak to them."

Bates looked at her as if she has two heads.

"Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely caring this time but only for a moment. Masato shushed him with a gesture of his finger and walked towards Janelle slowly; cautiously.

"You hear them?" Masato asked, putting a hand on top Janelle's head, threading his fingers through her hair.

"Yes," Janelle replied, her eyes zeroed on the white beads he was holding. They unnerved her, giving her a queasy feeling she didn't like one bit. "They are protecting me."

"The spirits?"

"No," she replied curtly.

Masato nodded his head. "Protecting you from what?" he asked, the hand holding the beads moved closer to her body.

Janelle stayed silent. Masato frowned; she was supposed to answer him, he had her under his spell. "Are they protecting you now?"

"Death is," was her response.

Bates felt his anger flaring quickly. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. That seemed to awake her from her entrancement. Masato didn't even flinch; he just removed his fingers from her hair and clutched the beads tightly with both of his shaking hands.

"Enough talking about death, and spirits!" Bates yelled, earning himself curious looks from passersby. "You're cursed!"

"Sir!" A nearby woman exclaimed. "Seeing spirits isn't a curse!"

Bates turned around to scoff at her. "Enlighten me, then." He rolled his eyes.

She frowned and looked at Masato. "And you are a priest, I believe?" She quirked an eyebrow, noticing the choice of his clothes. His robe just said it all.

"You are correct, miss." He bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

The woman's glare intensified. She walked towards Janelle and knelt down beside her. "How old are you, my dear?" She asked with a smile on her face.

"Twelve," Janelle replied, still shaken by what happened.

The woman pointed at Masato. "That guy over there, he was trying to purify you," she said. Masato opened his mouth to say something but the woman shook her head. "But he realised that he can't purify you, am I right?" She looked at him.

Masato just nodded his head.

"Do you know why you can't purify her?" she asked slowly like she was talking to a child in school.

"She's a shaman," he answered.

Bates clenched his fists.

"Miss," he started slowly, looking ready to kill. "He would have succeeded if you haven't interfered."

"He wouldn't have succeeded," the woman retorted. "Not now, not ever. Are you the girl's father?"

"Yes," Bates replied briskly. "And I don't want her seeing spirits."

"I would have believed you if you didn't have conjuring beads on you," she countered, smirking when his eyes widened a bit. "I know I sensed them, but the real question is: why do you have them in the first place?"

"Madame, no offence but, we don't know each other, so be on your way and I'll continue what I was doing," Bates chided.

"I can't allow you to force something on the poor girl—"

"—I am not poor," Janelle interrupted, rather childishly, earning herself a disapproving look from the woman. 

"She's a shaman, she's not cursed, she just has the ability to communicate with the Other World," the woman explained.

"Do I look like a child to you?" Bates rolled his eyes. "I know what a shaman is and she is not."

Masato coughed. "Excuse me, but I think the miss is right, the girl is not cursed. I felt it. But..."

"But what?" Bates asked impatiently.

"She's more powerful than...err, most shamans?" Masato supplied awkwardly. "I need to take her with me back to my temple."

Janelle was surprised at the worry that clouded her uncle's features.

 "How powerful? God damn it, how powerful?"

Janelle stared at Bates in surprise. The woman that joined them was shocked at his outburst. She pulled Janelle so she could stand behind her. Something was terribly wrong.

"The girl doesn't feel like shamans, she feels as if she is a whole other different being," Masato answered, looking at the ground, holding the beads as if his very life depended on it. "I need to get her back to the temple."

"Where is that temple?" Bates asked then went to hold Janelle close to him. He panicked when she wasn't within reach. He looked around frantically but relaxed a bit when he found her behind the woman.

"It's not a temple, exactly. I just like calling it a temple." Masato looked sheepish as he grinned, trying to diffuse the tense atmosphere. "It is not very far from here."

"Take me there," Bates ordered, motioning for Janelle to come closer.

Janelle was hesitant at first, not knowing what he wanted to do with her. But his eyes, they were pleading for her as if he was genuinely scared. But he did try to kill her...

He kidnapped her, for God's sake. He was dangerous. She needed to stay away from him until she found a way to contact her brothers, Tony or even her father

His eyes softened. "Jani, please," he tried in French, taking a step towards her. "It's more complicated than I had thought."

"You kidnapped me," she replied defiantly. "I refuse to go with you."

"Jani, where else would you stay?" Bates tried reasoning with her.

Janelle thought about that. He had a point though, she wouldn't like being alone in another country with no idea how to get back to France. She reluctantly left the woman's side and went to stand beside her uncle. Bates smiled reassuringly at her and even bent down to kiss her forehead. Janelle tried not to recoil from disgust.

He straightened up and looked at the priest in the eye, daring him to disobey him.

"Lead the way."

**