"There's been another attack." Gabriel slams the newspaper down onto the kitchen table, finger pointed to the headline.

Portland Citizen's asked to stay indoors after 8pm. Mayor considering city-wide curfew as murders continue. There is a picture of a bloodied sheet directly under the headline. I guess the mayor has decided simply warnings are no longer working.

The attacks began three nights ago, the day before Asher had arrived. Four women had been found murdered, their bodies mangled beyond recognition. Gabriel had passed it off as exactly what it had appeared to be, some crazed person had flipped and murdered the first group of people he/she found.

Since then the bodies had begun to pile up. All women. All found mangled to the point where cause of death could have been one of many things. Gabriel had somehow managed to break into the coroner's office and survey the damage himself. He had come back completely shaken. He told us later that whatever had attacked them had been ruthless, and not human.

"This is getting ridiculous," Jackson growled. Even before he had entered the room I knew he was there. Despite the fact that he had not spoken a word to me since the fight, our bond was stronger than ever. Whenever he was gone, even if it was in a different room, I felt on edge. The closer he got to me the more the anxiety faded. It was slowly driving me crazy but seemingly had no effect on him.

I had tried speaking to him only to be shut down. It had gotten so bad that I had found myself in front of his bedroom door at three am the second night. He knew I was there, flinging the door open before my hand even reached the handled. His eyes had glowed neon green, anger covering every inch of his face. He had not spoken, just stared. For a second I thought he was falter, that he would pull me into his arms and all would be forgiven. Instead he had slammed the door in my face, the lock clicking heavily into place.

Max and Liam had offered to talk to him. Correction, Liam had offered to talk to him. Max had gone on a rant about 'knocking some sense' into him. I had brushed their offers off, knowing Jackson had every right to be mad. I had allowed him to risk everything for me and in return I had shut him out.

"When are we going to do something?" he demanded, slamming his fists onto the table. Yet another side effect of our argument, his new found lack of patience.

"What would you have us do?" Gabriel questioned calmly. Despite our previous interactions, Gabriel had handled the tension quite well. He had allowed me to mope around the house, even going as far as joining me as I sat alone in the living room. He had kept his calm during Jackson's random outbursts. One had ended in Jackson punching a hole through the wall and yet, Gabriel had remained calm.

"Find the thing and kill it."

"Well that's a great plan and all but we have no idea what we are hunting. There was no poison in their systems, so that rules out half of the demon population. The bodies were hidden, so that cuts out a portion of the demons we know who just love to flaunt their kills. The others aren't known for destroying a body. They just take what they need and leave. That leaves us with no options Jackson. So unless you've suddenly stumbled upon another rarely seen supernatural creature then I suggest you remain calm and wait until The Sanctuary calls us with answers."

Jackson huffs angrily, tossing his dishes into the sink. I hear the definitive sound of breaking porcelain. At the rate he was going there would be nothing left for us to eat on by the end of the week.

"Jackson."

After days of the cold shoulder I am sick of this shit. He has stormed around this house, slamming doors and snapping at anyone who talks to him. He make small talk on his good day, still avoiding addressing my existence. He refuses to make eye contact. I have dealt with it, quietly waiting for him to calm down. But that doesn't seem to be happening any time soon and I am tired of waiting around.

"Go away Omera." He keeps his back to me. I see his fists clenched at his side.

"No. I'm done going away. I'm done letting you walk around pretending I'm not here. Yea, I screwed up. I shouldn't have shut you out. I've apologized numerous times, just to have you walk away each time."

His shoulders drop and I hear him exhale. His knuckles unclench and he rounds the corners, heading back to his room.

"Stop walking away from me!" I throw myself in front of him, blocking the door. He looks away, still refusing to meet my gaze. I place my hands against his chest, pushing him back. That seems to get his attention. He clenches his jaw, his eyes gliding up to mine.

"Go. Away."

I shove him again.

"No. Not I will not go away. You can't keep doing this. You can't keep ignoring me. You can't just tell me it doesn't matter and expect me to accept that. You're mad, I get it. But there is a fine line between being mad and being a jackass."

Jackson's fist flies forward, slamming into the wall next to my head. I do not flinch. I have accepted what I am, and he cannot hurt me. He won't hurt me. He may be furious, but I know for a fact he would never lay a finger on me. He just wants to scare me. Wants be to run away. I am tired of running.

"We need to talk about this. We need to-"

"We don't need to do anything. I don't want to talk to you. Don't you get that? I figured you would get the hint by now. I'm done. We are done. Hell, we never even started. You think just because I screwed you it means that I care about you?"

I slap him, the sound echoing down the hall. Jackson laughs, inching himself closer to me. I back up as he closes in, leaving less than an inch between us.

"Omera," his voice shakes.

I fight back the urge to slap him again, remembering the harsh words I threw at him the night I planned on leaving.

He lowers his head, placing his forehead to mine. He closes his eyes, letting his fingers trace the edge of my jaw. My skin tingles at the touch. Cold shoulder, outbursts and harsh words aside I still feel it. I still feel the strong connection between us.

I place my lips against his. His fingers move, wrapping around the back of my neck. He returns the kiss, lightly at first, before the pressure increases.

"Umm...guys..."

I jump, startled by the sound of Max's voice.

"As glad as I am that your little fight is over...can you not have sex in the hall? For one, it's gross. Second, Omera is doing that thing where she glows and I'm afraid you'll burn down the house."

Jackson laughs and the sound is music to my ears. He opens the door, pulling me into the room.

"Are you done being an ass?" I ask, sitting on his bed. Sure, we may have shared that amazing moment in the hall a few seconds ago but that doesn't mean I am letting him off the hook.

"I guess." He takes the spot next to me, shooting me a saddened look. I place a soft kiss on his cheek, laying my hand over his.

"Good, because I was this close to taking Max up on his offer to beat the hell out of you. Honestly Jackson, we can't keep doing this. It's ridiculous. I shut down. You got pissed. We both handled it horribly. It's done."

"How? I just said I didn't care abo-"

"I heard what you said. So? I said the same thing the night you caught me trying to sneak out. You think after everything... my parents being murdered, nearly dying, spending time in an institution, finding out I'm not human and getting attacked by some creepy demon...you think after all of that I would be mad because you got pissed and said some things you don't mean?"

Jackson smiles, wrapping his arms around me. I lay my head on his shoulder, listening to heavy rise and fall of his chest.

We stay like that for a few moments, letting the events of the last month slowly sink in. Things have changed. We have changed.

"Omera." His takes my face in his hands, cupping my cheeks. "I lo-"

A scream fills the airs and we are off the bed, running as fast as possible down the hall. I come to a complete stop at the bottom of the stairs, frozen by the sight laid out in front of us. Max stands at the door, the front of his shirt drenched in blood. A body lays on the porch, a red puddle beginning to form underneath the mangled mess.

"She was coming to surprise me." Tears run down his face as he falls to his knees. "She called me an hour ago. Came home early."

My heart stops beating. The walls begin to close in on my. I feel my feet moving forward but I am in a haze. I crouch by the body, turning it onto its side.

I cannot breathe. My brain shuts down. I bite back the scream forming in my throat. Pale blue eyes stare back at me. The same pale blue eyes I have grown to love over the last two years. The same pale blue eyes that held me as I wept in the hall, pictures of my night with Ian plastered on the walls. The same pale blue eyes that followed me around for weeks until I gave in and accepted the friendship being offered to me.

I am faintly aware of the screams I have allowed to break free. Faintly aware of the arms pulling me back into the house. Max is still on his knees, weeping heavily into blood soaked hands.

The world snaps back into place as an all too familiar feeling washed over me. I look up from the lifeless corpse that was once Daphne, my eyes finding her attacker standing freely in the yard. The haze of tears blurs the figure but the heat creeping across my skin gives his origin away. Demon. The same feeling I had the night I was attacked.

I wipe my eyes, a gasp leaving me voice as I look into a pair of deep brown eyes. My heart pounds in my chest and I hear Jackson screaming for his brother, his arms still struggling to pull me back.

A smile plays on his lips as he stands there, covered in her blood. He makes no attempt to hide. No attempt to run. He stands there, the last person I ever expected to see. I must be hallucinating. That's right, the shock of seeing Daphne like that has finally pushed me over the edge and I am seeing things. Because there is no way he can be here. No way he can be standing in the yard, covered in my best friends blood, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

"Andrew."

I feel Jackson go rigid behind me, shocked at the name that has left my mouth.

"Hello sister," Andrew sneers, his voice deep and gritty. His eyes flash, turning from their memorable warm brown color to a firey red. "Miss me?"