Obligatory Credits: This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out Whateley Academy at http://www.crystalhall.org
Pic Credit: Lady Death from Chaos Comics (pic adjusted for the story)

Author's Note: This is fanfiction, obviously. Here is a notice to all the fan-boys and fan-girls out there. I have not read every single Whateley fic and or fanfic out there so I don't know every single little bit of trivia there is to know. If you see a tiny little error that that has absolutely no bearing on the plot, please, restrain yourself from pointing your finger and gasping in abject horror. I think it's fairly close so slowly put your blades away and relax. :)

The Beginning of the End

Thus ends my sixteenth birthday celebration.

Don't be too disappointed that you weren't invited, nobody was except for my closet boyfriend, Jeremy. No matter how en vogue it is to be a lesbian, it's still very eww-o-rama to be a guy and be gay.

He was currently crashed out in bed, looking cute as always. I'd received my birthday present. Sigh. As I did up my blue button-down I mentally checked 'Lose Virginity' off my things-in-life-to-do list that I kept locked away in my head. With a smile, I added a few more checks next to that entry; Jeremy was quite energetic, and I was more than willing.

Once I had most of my clothes on I grabbed my socks and shoes before leaning over to kiss his cheek goodbye. He wrinkled his nose and murmured in his sleep before turning over and snuggling into the pillow I'd left behind.

A quick fantasy ran through my head of us older, married, and happy. I knew it was just a fantasy. Odds are we wouldn't last the remaining years of high school before moving on, but it was pleasant nonetheless.

Dad was in the car, waiting for me, by the time I made it outside. Hopefully I didn't have a glow about me or anything. That would be seriously embarrassing to talk about.

"Hey sport, did you have a good time?"

I smiled wide and nodded while I was putting on my seatbelt. "Yeah, party was great."

Wiggling around in the seat, I tried to get comfortable, but I was still a little sore from… well, you know.

Dad looked at me weird. "No presents?"

I laughed a little. "I'm not five anymore, Dad. It was just a get together with friends. I told them not to get me anything." That didn't stop me from fingering the platinum band on my right ring finger that Jeremy bought for me. He wanted to put it on my left hand, being all romantic and stuff, but we both knew that he wasn't ready to come out of the closet. Me, on the other hand…

Once we were well on our way I decided to break the news to my only living parent. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing before opening them again. There were books, movies of the week, after school specials, magazines, websites, toll free numbers, you name it; everyone had their opinion on the best way to break the news to the parents. Knowing my dad as I did, I knew that he would respect the straight forward approach rather than listening to me talk circles around touchy topics.

"Dad, tough embarrassing subject time."

He glanced quickly at me and then set his eyes back on the road. That let me know that he was gearing himself up. When I saw the nod, afterward, I knew he was as prepared as he was going to get.

"I'm gay."

He blinked a couple of times, and I saw him swirl the thought around his mouth before swallowing and licking his lips. "When?"

I shrugged and slowly blew a little tension out between my teeth. "I guess about three years now. At least since I realized it."

"So, before Mom died."

With a nod I answered. "Yeah."

He checked his side mirror before changing lanes. It was kind of weird seeing him totally trying to keep control of himself. To be honest, I didn't know how he was going to take it. You can always hope for the best, but I'm really not that kind of person. I tend to plan for the worst. Back at home I had a backpack and a duffle bag in my closet, just in case. It had all the essentials in it, so that I could move on if need be. That's why I waited until I was sixteen. It left me with a lot more options, legally. Jobs were a heck of a lot easier to find. A Hardship drivers license was easier to obtain. While frowned upon, I could legally live on my own under the guidance of child services if I could support myself.

"Are you seeing someone?"

I nodded. "I can't tell you who it is. He isn't out publicly. It's not my secret to tell."

"He isn't older…"

I nearly gasped when I saw where he was going with that one. "No, god no. Eww. My age, Dad."

He released a breath in relief.

Two more miles went before either of us said anything else. "I thought you'd yell more."

There was that eye shooting thing again. "Have I ever given you a reason not to come to me with anything, Braith, no matter how bad you think it is?"

I shook my head. I'd really underestimated my dad. "I'm sorry."

He chuckled a little. "I may be a hillbilly, but I'd like to think that I'm somewhat enlightened."

"You're not a hillbilly, Dad."

"Our house is on the side of a mountain and we live in Kentucky. I wear overalls. I'm a hillbilly and you're the gay son of a hillbilly. There's nothing wrong with either of us."

Well, he kind of had me there at the part about the overalls. At least he didn't have a moonshine still, go 'coon hunting, or make his own chewing tobacco. Gag!

"Just do me a favor."

"Hmm?" I asked.

"If you ever bring your… boyfriend over, just don't make out in front of me."

"Daaad!" I whined and he laughed.

I didn't see the truck that crossed the median in front of us. I just saw Dad's shocked face. He stomped on the brakes and threw his hand out in front of me, slamming me against the seat.

Car wrecks don't sound anything like they do on TV or at the movies. There weren't any tire squeals or deafening crashes of glass shattering, no explosions, or bombs going off. There was just the sound of metal twisting in ways that wasn't normal. The impact was so jarring that I lost my sense of reality for an unknown amount of time. Nothing seemed right.

There were flashes of lucidity. I remember smelling burned oil. I remember my face wet and warm. I remember my skin itching. I remember my insides feeling like they were on fire.

"Braith."

Even behind the closed lids of my eyes I was trying to squint from the light. Reflexively I brought my hand up in to show the international sign for 'it's too fucking bright in here'.

"Close the blinds," I heard the voice say.

A few moments later the light receded and I said the first thing that came to mind. "Dad?" Except there was a problem. That wasn't my voice.

I tried clearing my throat, but didn't get a chance to repeat myself.

"Braith, I need you to relax for the moment and tell me the last thing you remember."

Taking the chance to blink away the sleep crust sealing my eyes, I focused on the guy standing beside me wearing a white lab coat, kind of like what doctors wear. On second glance I'd say, exactly like doctors wear.

The other person was a lady in a business suit, and I was obviously in the hospital.

The Hospital.

Dad.

My hands quickly reached out and I grabbed the railings on the bed. "Where's Dad? The car…"

The doctor closed on me and lay a hand on my wrist. "It's very important that you try to stay calm, Braith."

Something red shot out from behind me and latched on to the doctor's wrist, ripping his hand off me and hoisted him in the air, several feet off the floor. At the same moment a sense of calm washed over me, artificial, almost like I'd been dosed up.

My eyes glazed over and I dropped, boneless, back on the bed.

"Braith."

I slowly moved my eyes to the other side of and saw the business suit woman smiling at me. "My name is Morphine. I'm a mutant, and I'm using my power to keep you sedated. I'm going to ease up a little so you can calmly talk to us. If you think you can keep yourself calm then blink once."

I really didn't have a choice. I blinked.

Feeling immediately started coming back to my body. "Where's my dad?"

She looked over at the doctor who was brushing himself off, rather put out. "You were in a car accident. He didn't make it. You did."

I closed my eyes and tried to turn off everything. Dad didn't raise a crybaby. That didn't stop the golf ball sized lump from disappearing from my throat.

"Is there anyone you want us to call?" she asked, sympathetically.

Shaking my head I told her, "Mom's dead. I'm alone."

I sniffed and reopened my eyes to see her lips pressed together as she looked at the doctor.

"What happened to my voice?"

The doctor leaned in, somewhat warily. "First things first, Braith. How do you feel?"

Blinking for a few seconds, I took stock of my body. "Weird, different, like something's not right."

"We're going to tell you something else, Braith. Remember to keep control of yourself."

I nodded in fear. All sorts of awful things ran through my head, thought of missing limbs foremost.

"You're a mutant."

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I couldn't believe what my eyes were telling me. Being a mutant wasn't the end of the news for the day. Something about BIT and GSD -- scientific gobblygook that was supposed to explain away the massive changes that I apparently went through while I was unconscious.

I was a chick. A white chick. I'm so white I make chalk say, 'DAMN! You're white!' That only sets off how red my hair is. I'm not talking about Carrottop red or even fire engine red. Some of the doctors at the hospital called it auburn. It's all B.S. I know the color of blood when I see it. Not that fresh blood from a cut that's bright and glowing either. I got the dead blood color. In other words it was dark red, like it was mixed with black or something.

The weirder part? It moved, my hair that is. It was constantly in motion, swaying here and there like a light wind was passing back and forth. Sometimes a tendril licked my cheek or caressed my shoulder, but for the most part it just moved. The length had increased until it was touching my waist.

God, so much had changed.

"I'm here to help you through your transition, Braith," Morphine explained as she stood at the doorway, watching me in the mirror.

It felt like I was at the end of my leash, ready to snap at the slightest twinge in the wrong direction.

"I need some clothes."

She nodded. "We're having something sent up. I was only brought in this morning."

I closed my eyes and shook my head in confusion then reopened them when I asked, "Who are you?"

Morphine reached into a pocket of her blazer and withdrew a laminated card before handing it over. "My actual name is Tammy Morse, codename: Morphine. Kentucky is one of the more… enlightened states where being a mutant isn't an automatic 'freak sentence'. The local government has put a number of mutants on retainer to be brought in for new transition cases, to help."

I looked at the card, not understanding half of what was written, and then handed it back. "So, you're here to make sure I don't go on a killing spree?"

She frowned slightly. "Contrary to popular belief, Braith, most mutants are pretty normal people that are thrown into extraordinary circumstances. Sometimes they develop powers that are very dangerous until they learn control."

My attention was brought back to the mirror and my freaky hair. "Well, I don't think I'll be killing anyone with my new hairdo."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I think you'll be surprised at what you can do. There's more to you and your hair than meets the eye."

Glancing down at the twin globes of blinding white flesh on my chest, I agreed. "I look like a freaking demon or something." I did. That red color I told you about, the color of my hair? My eyes were a matching blood red. Thankfully it was just the irises and not my entire eye.

"I've heard stories, read about people that…"

She nodded. "There are quite a number of us that have changed a lot more than you have. Count yourself as one of the lucky ones. You could have turned into a big pile of goo."

I looked over at her to see if she was serious. The regretful nod was more than enough confirmation.

"You said you got my measurements?" I was curious, sue me.

With a nod she rattled them off. "Your current vital statistics are height: five-seven, weight: one-twenty-five, bust: thirty-four-cee, waist: twenty-two, hips: thirty-eight, inseam: thirty-two, shoe size…"

"That's enough, stop." It was too much for my head to wrap around. Jesus, I was a freak show.

"You should be prepared for further changes with time. You've just turned sixteen, correct?"

I nodded.

"Female puberty usually, not always, but usually, ends around seventeen years old." At the sight of my jaw loosening she continued. "Judging by how much you've developed already, I'd say that you're probably close to being finished. Your cup size may increase a little more, maybe your hips too, depending on how your new metabolism works."

"Wonderful."

A knock at the door interrupted my self-deprecation.

"That's probably your clothes." She closed the bathroom door and after a few seconds I heard a thank you, then nothing until she returned.

No matter how much I like taking the more stereotypical female role while in a relationship with a guy, I did not want to be a girl. I liked looking like a guy. I like all my guy parts just fine, and I like my men firmly on the gay side. There's a difference between gay and straight guys. I'm not talking about stupid lisps, limp wrists, or bright colored clothes like the way we are portrayed on TV or in the movies. I'm talking about something intrinsically different. That is what I'm attracted to.

How in the hell was I supposed to have a gay boyfriend now? Hopefully Jeremy will understand and stay with me.

Sounds a little cold-hearted doesn't it; me thinking about my sex life while Dad is sitting in some funeral home waiting to be buried. Well, it's not. I was trying my best to keep his death in the back of my mind until I could actually have some private time to grieve. No matter how many pustules of estrogen are floating around in my bloodstream now, I was still a guy deep down. Guys don't cry even if they're gay.

Tammy, or the hospital rather, provided me with green scrubs to wear. That was cool of them, very unisex clothing scrubs were. The underwear was a different matter: panties and a bra. They were utilitarian enough, nothing frilly, white cotton.

The shame of wearing them was limited to when I actually put them on. Once I was covered up with the scrubs I was perfectly fine. Out of sight, out of mind.

"Those'll do until we can get you out to the store."

Now the shame was back again. The only good thing about having freakishly white skin? The color didn't change, so no blushing would be apparent. However my scowl was more than enough to let her know my thoughts on the subject of shopping for girl clothes.

"You'll have to do this sometime, Braith. It's better to get it over with and meet your problems head on. Besides you'll need something suitable for your father's service later today."

I frowned. She was right, but I didn't have to like it.

Being out in the mountains, there are no super malls. We have Wal-mart and little strip centers here and there. Wal-mart sucks big squirrel penises. There was a fairly nice mini-mall over in Pikesville that, if I remembered right, had gigantic women's departments. That's where I got Tammy to drive me. The coat I got to borrow wouldn't keep me warm for long and I was currently freezing to death in the scrubs. While I'm sure they are all the rage at your local hospital, outside they sucked.

When we arrived at the mall Tammy called ahead to the store manager and told her who she was and what we were doing. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to use the credit card Dad had given me in case of emergencies. Fifteen minutes later, after they verified her ID, we were given the thumbs up.

Now while I told you before that Kentucky was one of the more enlightened states with their attitudes toward mutants, that doesn't mean that people don't stare, whisper, move to the side when you pass, grab their kids out of the way, etcetera, ad nauseam. It just means they won't necessarily grab the pitchforks and torches right away.

Seeing what amounts to a demon girl walking around in mismatched clothes was a little too much even for them.

I kept my head down, but nobody was fooled for a second. There was nothing I wanted to do more than just get something to wear and get the hell out. Thus the speed shopping.

"Braith, don't you think…"

"No, five of the same color is fine. I'm not a clothes horse."

Those mannequins they have all dressed up are how I shop. Someone thought they were good looking enough to put up there, that was good enough for me. So, five pair of thick black leggings, five black long-sleeved turtlenecks, five black cotton bras, and five black cotton panties.

"You can't wear those panties with those leggings, not if you don't want everyone to see what you are wearing underneath. Here…"

She grabbed two three-packs of cotton panties that looked the same as the others I had. So, I shrugged and added them to the shopping tote. I could see the disappointment on her face at my selections. I really didn't care.

Black knee socks and lastly a decent pair of boots. Decent meaning Doc Martins knee boots; virtually no heel, well no more than I was used to.

"You'll need a coat."

I sighed, as we were starting to draw a crowd. "Take this over and start getting it rung up, I'll grab something."

It was wool black and came down to my knees. Good enough? I grabbed a pair of gloves on the way back and I was set.

"You're going to want more things than this. You don't even have a purse."

I stared out the window on the way home. "I've got tons of pockets. I don't need a purse."

"Those are ornamental." At my confused looked she explained. "They're fake pockets. You have two to stick your hands in. The leggings have none. "

I shrugged. "I can use my backpack."

Hearing her sigh was starting to become a habit that I was learning to ignore. "Braith, I know you've been though a lot, and something are only going to get worse, but it would be best for you to take my advice about a few things."

Returning her sigh with one of my own I responded. "Such as?"

"Your body is female. You can try to deny it all you want and you can even live like a guy if you choose, that's all up to you. However a girl's body works differently than a guy's."

I snorted, somewhat, in a sarcastic way.

"What I'm trying to get at here is things would go a lot easier for you if you take my advice. I've been a girl for all of my life. It's not so bad."

Like Dad said before, we lived on the side of a mountain.

"Nice place."

I didn't bother saying anything. Really, what was there to say?

When the car stopped I opened the door without any revelry, like I'd done a thousand times before, but the moment before I stepped out, I froze and just looked at the front door.

"Braith?"

Before turning to look at her, I breathed in the crisp winter air.

"We can take this as slow as you want."

I just shook my head and stepped out. "I can't live in hospital scrubs the rest of my life."

Clutching at the four bags dangling from my hands, I led the way up the front steps with Miss Helpful right on my heels… well hospital slip-ons anyway. I tilted the planter beside the door and removed the hidden key underneath before I opened the door.

The heater was running in the background, and the house was warm. As I stood in the doorway, I imagined I heard Dad in the kitchen getting dinner ready and going through our daily routines.

"Braith," my companion whispered. "We need to get moving if you still want to go to the funeral."

I cocked my head to the side and then entered, allowing her to follow.

Family pictures lining the fireplace mantle caught my attention. Happy times. Turning away I attempted to compartmentalize the pain they evoked.

Tammy's irritating calm was getting on my nerves.

"Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go change."

She nodded. "Thank you. If you need any help just call down."

Ignoring her, I ran up the stairs. I think I can figure out how to put clothes on. I'm not a two-year old. As I passed Dad's room I slowed and glanced inside. Fresh laundry was on the bed waiting to be folded. There was no doubt that was a useless chore now. With a grimace I turned away and stalked to my room.

A few seconds of upending the clothes on my bed and I looked at my new wardrobe. Well at least I don't have to worry about what I'm going to wear anymore. Simplicity is what I needed, not lessons on how to be the prom queen.

Stripping out of the hospital clothes and state supplied underwear, I stopped for a second and checked myself out in the mirror. Yep, still a chick.

I tore open the bag of panties and picked one of them up. What the…

Turning them around didn't help matters, it still looked like a small panel of cloth attached to strings. I picked up the package and studied it. "Hanes Women's Tagless 100% Cotton Low-Rise Thongs (Black). She made me buy thongs!"

I love thongs, believe me, on other people, not me. Giving a look at the door, I weighed the choice of wearing what I had in my hand over going back to the store and buying actual underwear. The thought of being stared at made my choice all that my easier and thus that much more humiliating. Tammy won for now.

By the time I figured out the bra, on my own mind you, donned the leggings and turtleneck, I thought I would feel better. Again girlie items were out of sight and out of mind. But the feel of the thong wedging its way between my lower cheeks was distracting as hell. I can't even say what the rest of the clothes looked like.

The outfit on the mannequin was loose and warm looking. What I had on was almost skin tight. There was no hiding the fact that I was one of the most curviest girls I knew. Tammy said the sizes were right, and I just had to prove that I didn't possess the need to try on every single thing to make sure it fit just perfectly, like every other girl I knew.

Well I wasn't going to let her have the satisfaction of saying 'I told you so'. This meant that I needed to look like the clothes didn't bother me. Fine. I could do that. There was oh so much more that I can say sucks about my life than just the clothes.

The socks went next, which came up well above my knees. I shook my head. With a sigh I remembered that was the style with over the calf boots. Discarding the cardboard things that were holding the upper portion rigid, I pulled out the paper wadding from the toe and slipped on the boots. They were a little snug, but the socks I bought were brand new. A few washings and everything should fit fine. Once they were zipped up, I folded the socks down to just under my knee. There, now I looked like I actually knew how to dress.

I retrieved my Swiss Army Knife and snipped the remaining tags along with the tag on the coat and gloves.

Standing in front of the mirror on my dresser, I slipped on my gloves and almost looked human again. The only bit of white skin showing was on my head.

Jesus, my hair seems to be loving this. The volume had nearly doubled and some of it was sliding over my shoulders to frame my face. When I turned to the side a little, I noticed it seemed shorter than before, almost under my shoulder blades instead of at my butt. Even I had to admit, if I were a heterosexual guy, I'd love seeing me walk down the hallway heading my way. Except for the eyes.

With that in mind, I moved to my junk drawer where I kept my odds and ends, withdrew a pair of Oakley Pit Boss sunglasses. Dad bought them for me for my birthday. I didn't have the heart to tell the man that just spent six hundred dollars on a pair of sunglasses that they were too small for my head. Taking them out of the protective case I slipped them on. Of course they're a perfect fit now. Thanks, Dad. That's one thing I didn't have to throw away.

Okay, now I just looked like a goth girl. I could deal with that. That is if I could get my hair to stay still for a fraction of a second. It was the only thing that was giving away my freak status at the moment.

While I was in the drawer, I withdrew a silver chain and went back to the property bag that held the stuffed saved from the accident, both mine and my dad's. I found the ring that Jeremy gave me and slipped the chain inside before securing it around my neck. When I was a guy the chain was a little small for me. Now that my neck was much thinner the ring hung about three inches down from my non existent adam's apple.

The watch was useless -- way too big. I was about to put the diamond studs they took out of my ears back in, but guess what? Along with the next body, I got new ears too. So now I had to… OWW!

Before I realized what was happening the studs were snatched out of my hands and inserted into the new holes in my lobes, compliments of my hair. I watched in almost stunned horror as a single drop of blood dripped down from the new holes and a few strands of my hair brushed them away, absorbing it some how. That same stand curled up and then lengthened until it was long enough to caress my cheek softly, almost lovingly.

I swallowed, not bothering to move until it withdrew. Okay, no thinking about any more piercings in the future. Apparently my hair could read my mind and had a mind of its own. I closed my eyes and remembered when I woke up at the hospital. The doctor… it was my hair that grabbed his wrist and held him up in the air, several feet off the floor.

Reaching up I patted my strange locks. "Good hair, nice hair. Please don't draw any more blood before asking, okay?" I figured that was the safest route to go. It couldn't talk, after all.

Several strands quickly lengthen and shot toward my school supplies stacked on one side of the dresser. The books on top were slid to the side and the notebook underneath was opened to a blank page. I didn't see where the pen came from. My hair was wrapped around it, guiding it above the paper. My mouth just unhinged when I saw it writing something. Closing in, I realized that what I mistook as some freaky mutant power was nothing of the like.

My hair was sentient.

"Sustenance?"

I swallowed again before asking. "How much?"

"More?"

Think, Braith. Oh, idea! "Does it have to be human blood?"

Score. While the thought of having vampire hair is weird enough, I think I could deal with it as long as I wasn't the donor. "Okay, I can get you some more. Just don't take any from humans unless you get my okay. They kind of look down on things like that and they will hurt me.

"Thanks?"

The pen dropped and my hair reduced its length, caressing my face as it returned to its place along my shoulders. My body went on automatic, as I was too stunned to freak out and too freaked out to run around with my head cut off screaming about how my hair can think for itself and wants me to feed it.

Tammy popped into my head. Tammy! She'll know what to do.

Taking a few quick breaths to calm the pounding in my chest, I made my way down stairs. The state-appointed mentor was browsing the titles of the books lining the mantel above the fireplace when she heard me. Turning around she took me in and smiled.

"Wow, Braith…" She looked stunned. "You have my apologies. You look great!"

I stopped at the foot of the stairs, momentarily distracted, and looked down at myself. "Uh, thanks."

She quickly walked over to me. "Maybe it's the contrast in colors. I think some accessories in red, matching your hair wouldn't go amiss either. Well done!"

I closed my eyes and shook what she was saying out of my head. "My hair can talk."

She gave me a weird look. "Pardon?"

With a confirming nod I explained the earrings and how I had the impromptu piercing session, plus the conversation afterward. All the while my hair was stroking my neck sending pleasant shivers down my back, which was quite distracting.

"Blood?"

"Yeah."

The odd thing? She didn't seem to be too put off by the suggestion. "Well then, we'll need to get a supply of food so that your hair…" she stopped. "You're obviously an avatar, hold on a second." Tammy looked around. "Do you have some paper and a pen around?"

Not thinking too hard about how she was acting like this was an everyday occurrence I went to the counter by the phone and retrieved a notepad and pen. We sat on the couch and I put the items on the coffee table, and Tammy started talking to my hair. My life has become so strange.

"Hello, my name's Tammy Morse. May I ask whom I'm addressing?"

Nothing happened.

Her eyes centered on mine. "Can it hear me?"

I shrugged, then remembered that my hair could read my thoughts. How else would it know to pierce my ears? So I concentrated on talking to myself. 'Can you hear her?'

Two strands lengthened and picked up the pen.

Tammy seemed pleased at watching my hair write. "Braith, just repeat what I ask, okay?"

I nodded.

"Tell it my name, and ask if it has a name."

I repeated her question.

"You're welcome." I relayed that while Tammy looked thoughtful. "Were you the cause of Braith's transition?"

"I'll take that as a yes."

Now I was confused again. I thought I was a mutant.

'You changed me into a girl?' I thought.

Tammy seemed to have following the gist of our conversation even though I was keeping quiet.

"Ask Sangria if your relationship is symbiotic."

After the relay she received her answer, I just wasn't sure if I was exactly thrilled.

I guess I was acting more than a little antsy, so Tammy changed the topic of discussion. "How much do you need to feed?"

Tammy shrugged. "Makes sense I suppose. Somewhat like caloric intake." She looked at me. "Braith, we're in the mountains. There is tons of wildlife out there."

Good point.

The funeral was three in the afternoon at the family graveyard. Six generations of Brice are buried there. I knew my father planned to be beside my mother with a huge headstone that was only missing a date of death for him. He didn't want a big deal made of his death, electing to have a graveside service and no wake. This was probably a good idea considering that I was informed he was in no condition to be viewed.

Tammy and I were the first ones there. The funeral director didn't seem too pleased to find out I was Brice, which again took about fifteen minutes to prove with the provided agency numbers.

After asking her for some time to myself, I left Tammy at the back and went to sit at the small row in front that was set aside for family. I was the only living family now. No cousins, brothers, sisters, nothing. Nothing but Jeremy and now because of my change in gender, not even that. My boyfriend was purely in the gay category, not a bisexual bone in his body. There was no way he would want to be with me, especially now that I was a mutant.

A cold wind blew through the graveyard, working its way through the small portion of my leggings that was exposed. Bringing my knees together, they felt a little warmer.

I stared at the coffin, hovering above the open grave, held by some type of mechanism that would lower it after the service. Then I would never see my father again. Tears dropped unbidden down my cheeks and silently I thanked Tammy for making me take one of her handkerchiefs.

"Braith?"

Every muscle in my body tightened at the sound of Jeremy's voice. Sangria surged forward to provide my face with the maximum amount of coverage so that my face was relatively well hidden.

"Don't look at me, Jeremy."

"Is that really you?"

Who told him… Tammy, of course. "I'm a mutant. You don't want to be seen talking to me."

He ignored me. "Fuck them, Braith. I was going to come out of the closet anyway, after what we did on your birthday. I might as well be a mutant lover too."

Sangria relaxed and pulled away, letting him see me. "I'm a girl now, Jeremy."

"Yeah, kind of hard to miss."

We sat like that, quiet, for a few moments.

"I'm sorry about your dad."

I nodded.

He snuck his hand into mine and we sat like that through the service.

When we stood, I noticed exactly how much room there was between me and the other guests. Two rows worth. There were about fifteen other people standing in the back and on the sides. I suppose nobody wanted to sit near the freak. I could hardly blame them.

"I'll walk you to your car." Jeremy held my hand the entire way. When we reached Tammy's car I saw her waiting inside before turning to my soon to be ex-boyfriend.

Reaching up I fingered the platinum ring he had given me. "Would you like this back?"

He looked at it for a second before shaking his head. "If there was any way…"

"Stop, don't say anything else."

"I'm sorry, Braith."

Tears ran from under my sunglasses again. "Yeah, me too." Seeing his familiar posture, I knew he was about to give me a hug and I knew I wouldn't be able to take it, so I turned and got in the car as fast as I could."

"Braith…"

"Just go."

So I'm a crybaby.

I woke up the next morning alone. Tammy had other freaks to tend to, so I was left alone for most of the day. I hadn't had a decent shower in almost four days, not counting the washcloth and the sink at the hospital. Again, a new experience. Sangria reveled in the hot water using the soap liberally all over my body. I nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I didn't need to do a thing but stand there and let my hair do the work for me.

There's a nagging question that's going through your head. No, I'm not psychic, just realistic. No, the hair down there does not have a mind of its own, since there is no hair down there. Feel satisfied knowing that?

Before grabbing the towel, Sangria shook itself dry much like a dog, whipping from the crown of my head and through its length in a matter of seconds. It held itself up while I dried off and grabbed my underwear. Tammy was right about one thing: the contrast between the black bra and thong was striking. Black was a good color on me.

I stopped and realized what I was thinking. Who gives a crap what looks good on me? The clothing was functional and practical, nothing else. A quick brush and rinse and I was out of the bathroom before I made anymore stupid observations.

Leggings, turtleneck, knee socks, boots, all were donned without thought. It was the necklace with Jeremy's ring that gave me pause. There was nothing extraordinary about it, just a simple platinum band, letting me know how my boyfr… my ex-boyfriend felt about me at one time.

Frowning, I pooled the chain in the palm of my hand and dropped it in my junk drawer. I grabbed my sunglasses and my gloves before heading downstairs.

Puttering around the kitchen, I found that nothing looked the least bit appetizing to eat. When I'd given up hoping for anything, I closed the refrigerator and was about to leave the kitchen. Sangria took that moment to lift a lock of hair in front of me. I stopped at watched it swirl in the air for a second before straightening and pointing.

Following its line I said, "The back door? You want to go outside?"

The lock of hair retreated and draped over my shoulder. "Okay, give me a second. I gotta grab my coat."

I had a sneaking suspicion about why my… what do you call something that's living in your body, or rather on top of my head. It called me its host. Did that mean that it was my parasite? There's got to be a better word than that. Anyway, I figured it was feeding time.

Armed with my coat and gloves against the December frost, I stepped outside and looked around. The dead grass, and everything else for that matter, was covered in a thin sheen of white. While there wasn't any sun worth mentioning, because of the cloud cover, there was a stiff wind that whipped at my face. Sangria closed in around my ears and cheeks to protect me from the worst of the bite. Donning the sunglasses helped my eyes.

"There's a cat around here somewhere that belongs to the Stensons over the ridge. Please don't eat it." An image of the black and white feline entered my head. "She hides out here sometimes when it gets cold. Pretty much anything else is fair game." No pun intended.

I'd like to tell you about our short lived hunting trip, but do you want to hear how my hair caught a family of squirrels that had made a home for themselves in a Red Oak, how Sangria shot up about ten feet, snatched the four of them, jammed my hair into their little chests and left their desiccated bodies at the base for other wildlife to feast upon?

Maybe you want to hear about how the fox that thought it was outfoxing us as it hid in a cluster of brush. Sangria tracked it every step of the way. Several strands of my hair disappeared into the brush. At least I didn't have to watch what happened that time. I'd heard plenty though.

Tammy called while she traveled in-between appointments. Were there that many mutants out there? She laughed at my comment. Apparently she provided other services. I didn't ask her to elaborate, since I wasn't really interested. I was informed that we would be going out again to pick up the necessities for living as a girl. While I didn't have a problem with being outside, I did have an issue with being stared at, which led me somewhere I hadn't been in three years, the basement.

The wooden stairs creaked as I made my way down into the rarely used portion of the house. You've heard tales of musty, dank, rat infested basements like in horror movies. Well, mine was just another room; it just happened to be located under the house. Dad and I used it mostly for storage, but he also came down when he missed Mom.

There was a recliner in one corner next to a couple of boxes with the tape torn off. It was obvious that he'd packed some of her stuff away and reopened the boxes to reminisce. Next to the recliner was a half full waste basket of empty beer cans.

"Aww, Dad."

The first year after Mom's death had been hardest on him. There wasn't a day that went by that he hadn't taken out most of a twelve pack of beer. Then one day out of the blue he stopped. Being a fourteen year old at the time, I really didn't have much say about how he lived his life. The insurance money and subsequent lawsuit against the negligent company that brought about Mom's accident paid off the house, not to mention the bills.

That left Dad with nothing to do once he was fired for drinking on the job. They weren't dicks about it. They understood why he was drinking and even tried talking him into counseling, but his refusal left them no other choice. Me? I knew he was being a man. You take care of your own problems, not pay a guy behind a desk to listen to them.

Eventually he came out from his funk. It was like night and day. He wasn't a dirty or mean drunk. Every day he'd get up shower, shave, put on a clean set of clothes and drink his breakfast. I never wanted for anything practical, and he even went out of his way to make sure I had some impractical things on my birthday and Christmas, hence the overly expensive sunglasses and the emergency credit card.

Looking at the crushed cans in the trash brought all of those memories back. When did he start drinking again? Or maybe he just never stopped drinking at all. It didn't really matter anymore, and that wasn't why I was down there in the first place.

Scanning the boxes stacked up against the wall, I found the one I was looking for labeled, 'Misc.' The rest were mostly clothes. Could I pull out her clothes and wear them now? Well, not only would that be majorly creeptastic, it also wouldn't be practical. Mom was a tiny woman. At thirteen, I was already taller than her and I was only five-three at the time. There was no way her clothes would fit me.

Unlike Dad, I wasn't a packrat. Sometime, probably that day, I'd start going through things and then contact Goodwill or something for hers and Dad's clothes.

Once I dragged the 'Misc.' box over to the recliner, I sat down and felt for my pocket knife. With a roll of my eyes I remembered I didn't have any pockets and my knife was upstairs on top of my desk. I didn't ponder on how to get the well taped boxed open for about three seconds before Sangria flung out a few strands and I watched as they whipped about the box.

"Um… thanks."

It was expertly cut, not digging into the cardboard like I always did. With that, the writing, the washing, I was coming to realize how much 'limber?' Sangria was. There was probably nothing I could do with my hands that it couldn't do better.

Not wanting to dwell on every item and relieve good and bad memories, I dug in and set aside what items I could use. Purses: I took the black ones that looked somewhat plain and medium sized, along with a pocketbook. It was still filled with Mom's ID, credit cards, pictures, and forty-seven dollars in cash and coin. I set aside the cards, and pictures of me, all except for one where I was in my little league uniform and Mom was hugging me from behind. I think I was about seven or eight when it was taken.

At the bottom were two of Mom's jewelry boxes which joined the stack before I closed everything back up. I had no use for scarves and there wasn't anything else of any value in there.

Taking the least feminine purse, if there was such a thing, I grabbed the pocketbook and headed back upstairs. I'd do the rest later.

Tammy arrived after lunch, where I still couldn't find anything appetizing to eat. Maybe I'd go out for a burger later if she didn't have me doing make up lessons or some equally inane task.

"Are there other things down there that you could use?" she asked when I told her about the purse.

I shrugged. "Dad kept all of her stuff."

She measured me for a moment before easing into a suggestion. "I could go down there and look through them for you if you'd rather not do it."

I nodded just to get her out of my hair. She gave me a gentle smile and set a sealed manila packet on the counter. "This is an information and enrollment package for Whateley Academy. It's a school that specializes in in teens like you."

"School?"

She nodded. "I know it's not first on your priority list of things to do, but eventually you'll need to go. They're about to let out for Christmas break. I'd like to have you enrolled for the Spring."

Ah. "Are you my guardian now or something?"

Tammy didn't look exactly comfortable when I asked that question. "Technically, you're a ward of the State. In cases like these I'm given a bit of latitude as to how that takes place."

Laying my hand on the package I frowned. "So, I either go to this mutant school or…" I left the end hanging there for her to finish.

"Go to Whateley, Braith. You'll learn about yourself and be surrounded by others like you."

That brought a bitter laugh out of me. "Other guys that have been changed into girls with blinding white skin and hair that talks to them?"

She shrugged. "Stranger things have happened." Before I could smart off again, Tammy added, "There will be other Avatars there, those that have Patrons such as Sangria, and if what it says is true then it might have already been to Whateley in the past."

Might as well put that question to rest. "Sangria, you know about this place?"

It sprang to life and whipped across the room to grab a pad and pen.

While I gambled on the chance that my… Patron (at least I know what to call it now) did know about it, I was forced into asking, "Should I go to school there?"

This time I frowned. "I'll look it over, but I'm not promising anything."

It was a big bundle. At Sangria's request, I spread all of the admission forms out on the table and retrieved several pens. It was kind of funny to watch as it filled out the forms, seeing twelve different actions all at once. Talk about your multi-tasking. What I was wondering was, how in the hell did it know how to fill in the blanks? Were there eyes attached somewhere that I couldn't see?

Twenty minutes and a change out of all the forms and they were stacked neatly at the corner of the table, while I was looking over the pamphlets.

"It doesn't look like it sucks."

"It doesn't." Tammy had emerged from the basement with a single box. "I attended. Class of '97." She walked over and set the box down on the table, her eyes scanning the completed forms. "How…"

"Sangria helped."

She flipped through a few pages and then stopped, very interested in one in particular. "Sangria, how do you know these power levels?"

"Powers?"

Tammy nodded. "According to your Patron, you are an Avatar-3, which was obvious. That's probably your sole trait; the rest being what Sangria is supporting you with through the symbiosis."

"What's an Avatar?"

"Basically it means that you have the ability to host a spirit, and depending on your power level, more than one."

Tammy looked like she didn't know what to say to that. "Regen-3. That basically means that it's going to take a lot to keep you down. You can regenerate limbs if the need came up. Granted it takes a while, but as long as you don't incur any more damage, you could be up an about in a couple of weeks."

"Limbs?"

That got a cock-eyed look from me. "Why would I want to be harmed?"

Sangria didn't answer that one.

"It's given you TK powers too. That explains the whole moving around thing." Her eyes got big for a second. "With a Strength level of 3 and a Dexterity level - D."

She kept reading while I waited impatiently for an answer. "In English?"

Looking up at me, she shook her head. "Sorry, well if push comes to shove, it could probably hoist a small car up in the air, and then soon after paint your portrait. I figured the Dexterity was high since it could write and pierce your ears perfectly, but the strength is a lot more than I expected."

Uh… yeah. Shouldn't my hair be green then? Sorry, comic books joke. Topic change needed.

"What's in the box?"

I got the sly-eye from Tammy for that one. Okay, I wasn't a smooth talker. She set the paperwork down and looked inside. "I found some essentials that you'll need later. Plus some other things that you might grow into."

"You've got bigger bras in there?" I deadpanned.

"Costume jewelry, perfume, sanitary items, the makeup was mostly dried, but I did find two lipsticks that were salvageable, still in their original packaging."

With a sigh I pursed my lips. "I told you I'm not doing the girl route. Toss the makeup."

"Braith, I'm leaving it in there. You don't know what you'll want once Sangria and you merge mentally. Besides, it's not like you'd need to go the whole route. You won't be able to wear a lot of makeup, because of your coloring. Maybe some eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. That's about it." When she saw the rebellious look I was giving her she said, "Just keep your options open, that's all I'm saying."

Fine, she wanted to go down this road? "Tammy, are you straight?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you straight, heterosexual, do you go for guys only?"

She shrugged. "Well… yeah."

I nodded and then leaned over to unzip my boots.

"What are you doing?"

Once I slipped the first one off I set it to the side. "Getting undressed."

She dropped the lipstick she was holding into the box. "Why?"

"So we can have sex. I want you between my legs showing me how to enjoy having sex like a woman."

Now I was the victim of her annoyed glare. "Braith, it's not the same thing. Makeup has nothing to do with sexual preference."

I shook my head calmly. "Never said it did. But I do remember something I said about going against my nature. It's not in my nature to put on make up, high heels, a dress and go prancing around hoping to meet the right hetero guy to make all my wedding dreams come true."

She crossed her arms, and still held the glare. "When did I mention anything but makeup?"

I smiled knowingly. "Oh, that was the part you were going to add after I reluctantly agreed to take your advice about something that goes completely against my nature. So, with all of that mind, I'll make you a deal."

"I'll bite. What's the deal?" She was toying with me, appeasing me to see what I would say.

"I'll wear your makeup. Hell, I'll even go get my nails done and wear a skirt and heels. All you have to do is something totally against your nature." With that I spread my legs and pointed at my crotch. "Come on."

With that announcement, Tammy turned and grabbed her purse off the counter.

"What's the matter, Tammy. Am I too much of a freak? Is it the white skin or is it because I'm a girl? You'll eventually enjoy doing it, you implied as much yourself. All you have to do is try it."

I got up and followed her to the front door as she tried her best to make her stride nice and even.

"Braith, when you decide you want to act like an adult, give me a call."

Her hand was on the door knob when I pretty much all but exploded. "When did I ever claim to be an adult?!"

Sangria whipped out and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around, then let go.

"I don't know if you've been keep up on current events, lady, but I just buried my father yesterday! And that wasn't all," I laughed and turned around, throwing my hand up in the air. "I find out I'm a fucking mutant, and a girl!" Spinning around, I pointed my finger at her. "And you! All of this is just another fucking day in the life!"

Something knocked me back, almost dropping me to my knees. I suddenly felt so lethargic. It was her. Her and her damn mutant power. Morphine. This time I did drop, but I fought it every step of the way.

Help…

I heard a muffled scream and the pressing sedation dropped away only to be replaced with a burning rage and a stabbing pain at the base of my skull. I was to my feet again and staring into the eyes of the mutant that assaulted me.

"Hear this, mentor. Use your talents on my host again and I will separate your head from your shoulders. Do we have an understanding, you and I?"

She nodded, or tried to nod rather, before another lance of pain jolted me. I blinked for a second and looked down at the floor where she lay virtually mummified in my hair. From shoulders to toe I couldn't see an inch of skin, and the only thing that was showing from the chin up were her eyes… her terrified eyes.

"Sangria, stop! Leave her alone!"

As you wish, my love. Her voice was as clear as day in my head. Yeah, I was right in saying 'her', Sangria was female.

In seconds my hair pulled back and Tammy was scrambling to her feet, pawing at the door. I stared to apologize, but didn't even open my mouth before my Patron cut me off.

Let her go, my love. She must ponder the futility of attacking you and I.

Standing at the door I saw Tammy trip in the yard before picking herself up and escaping to the safety of her car. The sun took that moment to break through the clouds, nearly blinding me in the process. I retreated further in the house and watched as she tore out of the driveway and disappeared.

Sangria closed the door while I blinked away the yellow spots in my vision.

You must wear your eye protection, my love, all of the time.

"You can talk to me?"

You were in danger. I will not permit anyone to harm you, and you required my assistance. Encouraging the progression of the bonding this way causes pain, that is why I choose the long integration.

That must have been the stabbing pain in my head. It was now a dull ache, hopefully nothing that a couple of aspirin couldn't take care of.

Your regenerating ability is taking care of the problem, my love. You've no need to pollute your body with foreign substances.

My thoughts drifted back, playing over what I said and what Tammy said. "I overreacted, but so did she."

Your mentor was under no threat. She had no reason to use her talent. However uncomfortable it is to hear someone yell, you had more than enough reason to do so.

I waved off the excuse. "That doesn't mean it was right, Sangria. I need to call her and apologize."

As you wish, my love.

I subconsciously reached down to my front pocket for my cell before I realized that it was in my purse upstairs. I've got to get some jeans or something, this was getting annoying. Instead I went over to the counter and used the land line.

Tammy's phone rang and rang before switching over to voicemail.

"Tammy, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled." A few beats passed like I was waiting for a response. "I'm just… I'm having a hard time dealing with all of this, and getting me to accept being a girl right now isn't the way to go about making me feel better." Another pause passed. "I can't apologize for Sangria. She thought she was protecting me." I really hate voice mail. "I'm sorry for the whole thing."

Fifteen minutes was all the reprieve that I was apparently due.

Our physical integration is complete, my love.

I blinked after staring at nothing in particular. "What's that mean?"

It means that we share our senses. I feel what you feel, hear what you hear. Taste, smell, see what you see. All of this we share with one another.

I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about that. "So that's it then?"

It is the beginning. Within the next few months, we will share a stronger emotional and mental connection until we are as one mind, separate but one.

Panic should have set in at that moment, but considering what my life had become over the last few days, Sangria was the only friend and guardian I could count on. Nothing seemed to matter but my well being and happiness to her.

As it should be, my love.

Two hours later and I still hadn't heard anything back from Tammy. Maybe she was well and truly pissed or terrified of me; it was a toss up. That just brought thoughts of paranoia to mind. What if she washed her hands of me and called in the State. Would they send other mutants to lock me away? Would they just kill me outright for what happened? I'd seen mutants on TV that they chased down. Was it the same thing, a misunderstanding gone wrong?

The only thing that came to mind was 'prepare for the worst, hope for the best.'

With that at the forefront I donned my boots and raced upstairs. Opening my closet I pulled out my backpack and tossed it on the bed. The duffel was next. Upending it I tossed out all of the clothes. The only thing left were my amenities. I had three sets of clothes that were clean. I'd have to keep up on the wash or buy new ones on the run.

More problems popped up. Money. I had access to it if needed, but I knew from the movies that the government loved to freeze people's bank accounts.

Have no fear of that, my love. If need be I have ways to make sure you are taken care of.

"Hair has a bank account somewhere?"

I almost thought I heard a giggle in my head.

Have you forgotten my previous hosts? I know all that they knew, including their financial arrangements, places to hide, access to vehicles. Pack only what you wish to not lose. The rest will be provided.

Well, I'd like not to lose my house, but that's a little impractical, not to mention that it wouldn't fit in the duffle.

Consolidating Mom's jewelry into one box, I stuffed that at the bottom, on top of the single bath towel. My clothes went next. I retrieved the box that Tammy brought up from the basement and went through that next.

Tampax? Oh hell. That thought hadn't even occurred to me. Sangria helped out while I was in denial. I don't even remember how I moved from room to room, but when she was done, I was standing there with a full duffle that weighted about fifty pounds.

"I can't carry that for long."

You need not concern yourself. I will bear the burden.

I nodded and grabbed my backpack before heading downstairs and setting everything by the basement door, along with my jacket and purse.

"What next?"

Contact your mentor once more. If she still shows no signs of reconciliation then we shall flee until we know better her intentions.

I tried her on my cell phone this time. Still no answer. Folding the cell closed I sighed and looked around. This all might be gone before I'm able to return. My throat tightened. It's all gone to shit.

While I walked around to take a last look at my home, I stopped at my dad's room. His bed was neatly made and his slippers sat there on the floor beside. I eyed the gun cabinet for a moment. I couldn't take one of the shotguns, but dad had a pistol.

I am all the protection you will ever need, my love.

Crossing the floor I opened the cabinet. "I trust you, Sangria, but you never know what's out there, and maybe I'll have a chance to protect you too. There was only two boxes of ammo for the .40 Smith & Wesson, but there were five clips, plus the one already loaded in the gun itself. That took care of one box. The other would have to be my only back up. Spending the time to load each magazine gave me a moment to clear my mind.

The things that brought memories of my father were now cherished. He would take me out every Saturday, rain or shine, to the shooting range. That was since I was nine. Every boy should know the proper way to handle a firearm. Before he would even let me see a weapon I had to memorize ten rules. If I ever broke any of the rules I would never see another gun again. That was more then enough reason to listen to every word he said.

With just a whisper I repeated the rules, as I had to before each time we opened the gun case. "Treat every weapon like it is loaded." On and on I repeated the mantra while until I finished filling the last magazine. After tossing the empty cartridge box in the waste basket, I pulled out the gun case for Dad's pistol, and opened it. A single loaded magazine lay beside the well oiled M & P.

I couldn't use my regular holster; that required a belt to attach it to. Dad had a Velcro shoulder holster that he wasn't too fond of, but it would be very adjustable to my smaller body. It would have to do.

"Sangria, could you give me a hand?"

My hair took charge and had me fitted in about fifteen seconds. Methinks that she's done this more than once.

Lacy, two hosts previous, was military minded. She loved her weapons.

Closing the gun case, I returned it to its proper place and then grabbed the gun cleaning kit. It wouldn't really do me any good to have a weapon if it wasn't kept clean.

"I'd like to hear about your previous hosts."

When we have time, my love, I promise.

I nodded and went to retrieve my backpack. The outer pocket was emptied into the duffle and I stored the spare clips and cleaning case there. When that was done I snapped the last magazine into the pistol, jacked in a round and holstered the weapon. It felt ridiculous hanging under my arm, like I was trying to live a cop drama on TV. That I was dressed in black didn't help the image in my mind. Now all I needed was some ninja throwing stars and a katana then the cliché would be complete.

Actually a sword would be pretty cool.

I am all the protection you will ever need.

I smiled at that. "So you said before."

A loud knock sounded from downstairs. My hand twitched to the pistol, but if it was Tammy I didn't want to send her running again. Hurrying as fast and as quietly as I could downstairs.

"Can you reach my coat from here?"

I felt my hair moving again as I looked through the peephole. It was Tammy, but she wasn't standing in front of the door. She was out in the yard. Sangria held my coat for me as I put it on and slung the backpack over my shoulder.

I nearly shit myself when someone, other than Tammy, knocked on the door, louder this time.

The person is to the left of the door where you will not be able to see. Respond, but do not open the door.

I normally keep the doorknob locked during the day, which it was already, but for just a little added protection, I eased the deadbolt closed.

"Who's there?"

"Braith, it's me, Tammy," I heard her call out.

"Hi Tammy. Thanks for returning my calls."

There are three of them, not including your ex-mentor. Do not fear, my love.

Not receiving any response back from her this time I went ahead and blew their cover. "Your friends are trespassing on private property. This is your only warning. Leave!"

A crash of glass in the adjacent living room and I drew the pistol, but like Sangria said before. I already had all the protection I needed. She reached out, quicker than the nimble little sword-wielding fucker that just ruined my front window, and countered a cutting move with one of her own… well actually, with about seven or eight of her own.

He dropped to the floor sans the sword arm, his head, and both legs. It was over so fast that I didn't even have a chance to tell him to freeze. As I was standing there, in shock, Sangria gathered the pieces and tossed them back outside, while other strands of her hair absorbed the blood covering the floor.

That's when I almost lost my lunch, if I had eaten any that is. She spun me around and I watched as two pencil sized strands of hair literally punched through the wall to the left of the door and then a half second later, pulled back through covered in blood. A single ear piercing scream followed that one.

The door exploded inward. Luckily, I wasn't standing in front of it this time.

Brace yourself, my love.

Sangria picked me up, and don't ask me how because I was kind of losing my mind at the time, but she ran outside with me. I felt hair covering all of my body, cocooning me safely in her grasp. A few seconds later it was over and she released her hold on portions of me.

Tammy was in her car, screaming. The engine was running and I could hear tires squealing but her car wasn't going anywhere.

Sangria punched a whole through the hood of the car, killing the engine. The driver's side door was next, pulled right off of the car and Tammy retrieved and tossed, less than gracefully to the ground.

"I warned you about harming my host!" I heard myself yell.

Tammy scrambled backward, crying. "It wasn't my fault! I made my report and they insisted you were too dangerous. Please!"

Sangria bound her arms to her torso and wrapped her neck with my hair.

"Wait."

She will bring more, my love. We cannot let her live.

"And you don't think they won't send more when the ones we killed don't report in?"

I could almost feel Sangria's reluctance, but she withdrew everything from Tammy except from around her neck. Hauling her up from the ground I heard my ex-mentor gagging before she was held in front of me.

"I should let her, you know." I felt dead inside. Even if I wasn't the one that personally killed three people, I might as well have been. "She warned you. Then you bring them to my home."

"You can't run, Braith, they'll find you." Her voice sounded raw, tear-filled.

"Maybe. But then I was raised in these mountains. I know caves that aren't on any map. They'll have a hell of a chase on their hands."

"You won't win."

I smiled and closed in on her face. Lifting my sunglasses, I stared her in the eye, letting her see the red of mine as I narrowed my lids against the afternoon sun. "I don't have to win. I just have to make sure you don't."

Tammy struggled against the hair wrapped around her throat. "Let me go, Braith."

With a single thought, I sent out a whip of hair and struck her across the face. "You don't give me orders, Tammy. You've destroyed my life, made me a killer, took away the only home I had left in the world. Now the only thing I have is my memories and Sangria."

I sighed with resignation. "Maybe that's all I ever needed." Turning away from her, I lowered my sunglasses and hung my head. "You'll need your energy, my love. Go ahead and feed."

Sangria purred in my mind. As you wish, my love.

The End, for now.