The conversation with Anubis left a bad taste in Amber's mouth. There was something very sinister about him. Furthermore it was hard to believe that he really wanted to help her; she rather had the feeling he was looking for some entertainment. And what would entertain a dark soul like him? Probably not something she considered as her hobby. On the other hand, Happy loved to stab hungry passers-by when he was baking hot dogs, so they probably suffered from the same mental illness. Maybe he should have been the one hooking up with Happy. What if he really planned something ridiculous like that? Should she take the biker on a date where they were going to torture kids or dissect living animals? A shiver crept down her spine, and at the same time she wondered what she was prepared to do to get her life back. If someone else had to die to give her the chance to live, would she agree with it? Was she really that selfish? The thought that she wasn't immediately screaming NO!! made her feel sick to the stomach. 

She needed to mingle, to distract herself and above all; she needed to act normal. Not like some zombie who desperately wanted to resurrect. And so, she left Juice's room and walked to the clubhouse. The afternoon was soon meeting its end; food odours floated towards her and she walked into the kitchen to see if she could help. 

Amber didn't say much as she pitched in wherever she could, nor when they were sitting around the table and having dinner. She rather listened to the conversations of the others, hoping to hear something she could use later. It wasn't very useful. They talked about typical guy stuff: food, chicks, cars and bikes. The few women at the table talked to each other, but they were too far away for Amber to be able to participate in the conversation. 

To her left, she felt someone staring at her. She knew it was Happy, he was still trying to tell her non-verbally that it was about time she fucked off. Although she tried to ignore his stares, sweat was itching down her neck and a little cynical she wondered if he was able at all to look at other people without creating the impression he wanted to drink their blood. 

A few seats away from her, she filtered Chibs' voice from the noise around them. "So how's tha goin'?" he asked Juice, signalling at her with his eyes in a very obvious way. 

Juice's glance moved to her, and when their eyes met his lips curled into a mix between a smile and a smirk. Amber signed internally. He better not made some move. He was nice and charming but oh, he looked so young with that mohawk and head tattoos. As if he had just left high school. She would rather choose a more mature man. 

Not that it mattered what she wanted. Soon she would be dead anyway. Really dead, this time. Because Happy had no interest in her, or because he had in some mysterious way fallen for her, accidentally killing her during some breath play. 

. . .

After dinner the Sons, or at least the full-patched members, left the clubhouse. Since Tara left as well because she had a night shift, Amber decided to spend some time with the kids. She never had the desire to have children, but she liked to play with them; as long as she could hand them to someone else once they started to bore her. They persuaded her to play hide and sick, and she smirked at Half Sack who neither succeeded in telling them no. The kids wanted the adults to seek, so Half Sack and she went in turns.

She had just been sent outside by the kids to count again when there was a loud blast. The ground seemed to shake, and a moment later burning debris rained down around her. 

Paralyzed, Amber stared forward. Flames leaped up to the roof, the furthest windows spewing flames. Her hands were shaking. Had – had Anubis done this? No... no that couldn't be, right? 

People ran outside, smoke forming so quickly she could barely see anything. Panting, Kip stopped running; he'd laid a kid over his shoulder and was holding the hand of the boy's older sister. Two kids were still missing... 

To her relief, Gemma left the clubhouse, coughing, but with Abel in her arms. Only Thomas was left... The kid was about three years old; he had probably no idea what was going on. He barely understood the game they had been playing; he had returned to his daddy's bedroom time and again, hiding underneath the blankets. 

That's where he is!

Gemma pressed Abel against her chest, muttering the name of her other grandson and looking around in panic. For a moment she exchanged a look with Half Sack. He laid Kenny on the ground, carefully touching his head wound. 

"He's in Jax's bedroom."

Right when she wanted to run away, the prospect with the weird name grabbed her wrist. "I'll go, I..."

"No, stay with the kids." Tearing herself away from him, she rushed into the clubhouse. The smoke didn't bother her, she didn't even feel the heat. A little dazed she stood still. She should feel terrified, her body should simply block because she was standing in a burning building but the only thing on her mind was the question whether the fire would be able to hurt her. Shaking off the absurdity, she started to run again, heading for the dorm rooms. She might be immune to the infernal flames, but little Thomas wasn't. 

The moment she stepped into the small hallway, she noticed that burning debris had scattered all over the floor. At the end of the hallway, the ceiling had come down; luckily Jax's room wasn't that far ahead. Slamming open the door, she tried to see something through the smoke. The wall at the end of the bed was in flames; the fire already spreading to the bedding. 

Thomas was not there.

"Thomas??" she called out. 

The fire however was roaring, the building cracking. She wouldn't hear the soft voice of a little kid. If she had been a scared child... what would she have done? She dropped on her knees and looked under the bed. Yeah, there he was! He had crawled towards the wall, his body completely frozen. 

"Come here sweetheart."

When he didn't respond, she crawled underneath the bed and pulled him towards her. His breathing was heavy and he could barely keep his eyes open. Tears stung her eyes – which surprised her, she thought she couldn't cry anymore. Getting on her feet, she pressed the kid against her chest and ran back to the hallway. With a thunderous roar, another part of the ceiling fell down. She turned around and looked at the window that was already blown out because of the fire. 

That was their way out. Stepping into the bathroom she opened the shower, drenching their clothes and hair. Her arms clutched around the almost unconscious kid, she returned to the bedroom. She couldn't see anything anymore because of the smoke, she felt short of breath and was coughing, although she wondered if it were really her lungs giving in or that it was all in her head. 

Pressing the boy tighter to her chest, she disappeared into the smoke, touching the wall until she found the windowsill. Her clothes started to smolder and Thomas started to scream in pain. 

"Oh you sick motherfucker, stop this!" she screamed at Anubis. 

How could he call this help? This was a tragedy, a disaster. Climbing over the windowsill she moved herself through the broken window and jumped down. She fell on her back. Immediately she laid Thomas down, putting down the fire on his clothes. Then she crawled backwards, away from the roaring building. 

She laid the boy in the grass. Her eyes became glassy with tears. It was a miracle that he had survived up to now; Anubis must have something to do with it. But at what cost? His right arm was badly burned, just like a part of his jaw. He had lost conscious and breathed with difficulty – but at least he was still breathing. Once she lifted him up again, she noted that her own arms were red and fiery, and on some spots the remains of her clothes were still boiling. How the hell she could explain this, she didn't know. But right now, all what mattered was taking Thomas to the hospital. 

With every step she took, her body felt heavier and it felt like something was eating her from the inside. This was her fault. The boy would be scarred forever and it was her fault. 

. . .

Hey all! I've started a new book, it's called "He Stole My Life". In case someone's interested, this is the summary:

"Your body will be mine."

That was the note the sixteen year old Elles found, coming from an unknown sender. She however knows enough: the guy who hung like a shadow over her life during the first two years of high school is back. And he deserves the title 'sociopath' more than ever.

What would you do if you switched bodies with a sociopath? If he can effortlessly move between your family and friends, without you being able to warn them? If he can use your body for whatever purpose, while all you can do is watch? What would you do?

It's not a fanfiction, but I hope you want to give it a chance nevertheless. (:
Thanks for reading, and as always I'd love to hear from you!