--XIII--

"She's awake," I heard Lindsay say as I struggled to open my eyes.

Looking around, I noticed that I was back in my hospital bed. I was surrounded by Carter, Lindsay, Dad and the most unexpected person—Miss Rosario Cruz, my Spanish teacher.

I rubbed my eyes, wondering if my encounter with Vincent Sinclair was just a dream or a desperate product of my imagination.

"How did I get here? Where's Vincent?" I said almost automatically, craning my neck to look behind them.

Dad and Lindsay threw bewildered looks at me. They clearly had no idea how horrifying the last night had been. And the more terrifying thing was that the terror-teacher had come to visit me for some unknown reason.

Had she discovered that I had always copied Carter's homework?

"Outside," Carter muttered dryly as he flopped wearily onto a seat.

"I... need to talk to him." Mindlessly, I got up from bed, pausing when I realized that the probes and the intravenous needle were already back where they were supposed to be when I clearly remembered tearing them off me.

Maybe it was just a dream.

Miss Cruz glanced at everyone else before saying, "Aramis. Can I talk to you? Just for a little while?"

Everyone seemed okay to leave us alone — except for Carter who glared occasionally at the door where Vincent usually stood—while they went out to grab some lunch.

"So am I going to detention or what?" I muttered with a smile to break the uncomfortable silence that prevailed between the two of us.

Miss Cruz sat straightly on a nearby chair. She removed her rimless spectacles and fixed her hazel eyes on me.

"For a couple of days, you'll be okay," she started, sounding serious. "You'll feel... normal. Even better than before. Stronger. Faster. But protective invocations won't last that long. Without him close, you will feel weaker and weaker with every day that passes so we'll have to take you as soon as you're ready to be discharged—"

"Protective invocations? W-what are you talking about?" I interrupted her, shaking my head.

Letting out a deep sigh, she glanced at the closed door and called, "Master."

The door opened slowly. Vincent stepped in, removing his glasses before reluctantly approaching us. His stark metallic gaze instantly dropped to the floor when I looked at him.

"Please tell her, Master," said the Spanish teacher to Vincent. As she did, she made sure not to make eye contact with him.

"M-master?" I stuttered, thoughts racing. "Miss Cruz? What's this all about? What is going on?"

With a grim look about her beautiful face, Miss Cruz shook her head and stood behind Vincent, still looking down. "Do you really have to repeat everything I say?" Miss Cruz muttered low, rolling her eyes.

"Aramis," Vincent called my name. Just that—his voice, the way he said it—sounded so special, so different it was compelling.

Gently, he reached his hand out to me until his fingers brushed the side of my neck, just below my left ear. Tiny needle pricks rushed throughout my body when he touched my skin, like electricity jolting my heart to beat faster. Like he had full control of it.

"The truth is... you are already dead." His voice was softer than a whisper but it hit me with a sickening crash.

"Don't kid with me! You think it's so hilarious that you're making my life miserable, don't you? First, the rumors, and now this?" I retorted. Letting out a sarcastic laugh, I glowered at him, slapping his hand away.

"Don't!" Miss Cruz tried to stop me but she was too late.

I doubled over, unable to breathe with the searing pain that came from the spot where Vincent touched me. The seething pain spread all over my body, a powerful weight forcing me down until I was pinned flat on my stomach on the hospital bed.

"H-help!" I rasped, trying to move my fingers to reach the two of them. "Wh-what's... what's..."

Miss Cruz averted her pained gaze from me. Beside her, Vincent just stood unblinkingly, his flawless features blatant as he watched me squirm in pain.

My eyes blurred when I struggled to move up, only to be rammed flat against the bed over again with the unforgiving invisible weight. Exhausted, I gave in and let the weight crush me, leaving me gasping for breath. I gazed blankly at Vincent, tears streaming from the corner of my eyes.

Defiance! A strange voice whispered from inside me. Repent! Repent!

Miss Cruz lifted her gaze but did not make any move to approach me. "The first rule of a Familiar: Thou shall never inflict harm of any form to thy master." It seemed as if she knew exactly what was happening to me. If she wasn't a teacher, I would say she was enjoying seeing me in pain. "Just heed the voice's demands. Do what it tells you and accept your punishment whole-heartedly. Resisting will only make things worse."

Yes. That's it. Succumb to your Master.

The voice was soothing and warm, reminding me of my mother's lullabies. I listened to it and silently prayed for forgiveness. It felt like the appropriate thing to do.

Slowly, the weight lifted from my back, the searing pain disappearing. Smoke wafted from my hands, my chest—everywhere. I could breathe again.

Coughing, I threw Vincent and Miss Cruz accusing looks. I had the feeling that they had something to do with this.

Before the pain could resurface again, the teacher hurried to my side and flashed a mirror in front of me. She reached out to the side of my neck where Vincent touched me with his fingers.

My eyes widened at what I saw.

There was a very small etched writing on a small patch of reddened skin of my neck just a little under my left ear. I pushed a lock of brown hair obscuring my view in the mirror. It was a tattoo, just like the one on Vincent's inner right arm but smaller and with another symbol.

∞XIII∞

"W-what... did you do to me?" I mumbled in shock, my voice was raspy.

Gingerly, I touched the sore tattoo and bit my lip. If Dad sees this, he'll totally kill me!

Miss Cruz leaned closer to me, pushed a lock of wavy hair that fell on her neck. Then I saw the same thing etched on her skin. Only, hers was a twelve in the Roman numerals.

"I'd be grateful, if I were you," said she, concealing the markings with her hair. "You should be dead by now. Or worse, you could have turned into a Wraith. What, with all those Strays trailing you all the time."

Her eyes moved constantly as though expecting something to jump right at her. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Wraiths?" I mumbled absently. I never had more questions in my life but the reality of me being dead was the more pressing concern. "Let's assume that I am dead, which I'm clearly not. How do you explain me being here? Do I look dead to you people?" My voice rang of fear rather than the intended cynicism.

Vincent shook his head and rubbed his temples in exasperation.

"Of all the deserving people in the entire human race, why her? Could've picked someone less irritating," he muttered under his breath, looking frantic while silently arguing with himself.

"Hello? I'm right here!" I rolled my eyes at him and turned back to Miss Cruz. "I'm listening."

"It's not the place and time to talk about it. It's not like you're a fast learner," Vincent retaliated, his shoulders tensing. It seemed like I just exhausted what little patience existed in his body.

I thought of something equally demeaning to say, then hesitated and chewed on my lip when I remembered the pain he could somehow inflict to me. Or at least I thought he did. I wasn't really sure but I didn't know if I was sure of anything anymore.

Miss Cruz crossed her arms in front of her, hazel eyes narrowing. "Come with us. We'll explain everything to you once we're there."

"To where?" I demanded. "And after what you did to me? Why on earth would I come with you people?"

"You have to," she urgently said. "You have no choice. Or else, you will die... again."

"Or be turned into the Swarth that she is," Vincent grunted under his breath, his metallic eyes glowering at me.

What in the world is a Swarth? I got the feeling that whatever that meant, it wasn't a compliment.

"No." My voice was firm when I met the teacher's eyes.

"What? Are you out of your mind?" She appeared offended like I just made the biggest insult in history. She gripped my shoulders, her eyes having a grave air about them. "But—"

"No." I said again. "Just leave. Now."

Even if they were telling the truth, I couldn't bring myself to leave Dad. Not in his present condition. All my life, I waited for the time when I could finally live on my own, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. Dad had no one but me. He might not admit it even if someone tortured it out of him. But I knew that he needed me now more than ever.

"Let her," Vincent muttered through his teeth, waving a hand at Miss Cruz, his expression hardening. "At any rate, she's already dead. Soon, she'll learn what we're talking about—the hard way."

I am not dead! My heart's still beating! I couldn't be dead!

My breathing started to become ragged. I felt sick and lightheaded. Again, the beeps from the heart monitor connected to me didn't even quicken. I was sure my heart should be beating louder and faster but it didn't change its pace like it normally would've.

"I don't know what you people are talking about! Get out! Out!" I screamed at them, barely seeing Vincent's glowering pale eyes through the mist that formed on my eyes.

I thought I saw several figures—two men, a girl and some kind of large animal—materializing out of thin air. But before I could even blink, they were already gone. All that was left was a slight gust of wind that ruffled the curtains and the white smoke wafting from the walls. It was like someone had just started a fire.

I didn't know what to do or to think. I wished they at least told me something that would make me see sense in all these.

A smoldering piece of paper fell from the air and flitted its way to my lap.

You know where to go.

Route 61, The Sinclairs, Ashland-Centralia Border.

P.S. Watch out for the hole.