Chicago, Il, Thursday July 21st, 2016

Sanctuary. That was what I’d named my bedroom, almost as though it was some kind of mansion or grand property. Naming my bedroom might have seemed silly, but my grandmother had once said that naming something gave you power over it, and I’d taken that to heart as far as my room went. After all, every fourteen…nearly fifteen year old boy needed a space they could call their own, and by naming my room, it felt as though I’d made an even stronger claim on that space.

There was a good reason that I’d chosen Sanctuary for the name of my room. It truly was my sanctuary from the world, the place where I felt the safest and most secure. I’d done everything I could to make my room as comfortable as possible, even setting a quarter of it up with a couple book shelves and a recliner, turning it into my own personal reading nook and library. This was where I spent a great deal of my free time.

I was sitting back in my recliner, reading the final chapter of a Dan Brown novel. As I finished the last bit of Robert Langdon’s most recent adventure, I set the book aside and glanced over the shelf beside me. I was an avid reader and had a nice stack of books in my ‘to read’ pile, one which seemed to keep growing larger. After a moment of consideration, I picked out my next read, the latest book in the Darius Shepard series.

Darius Shepard was the protagonist in a series of adventure/thriller novels, where he was a baseline FBI agent, who used his wits and ingenuity to uncover and stop an evil mutant conspiracy. The author clearly didn’t like mutants, and I suspected that he was using his books to share his own personal conspiracy theories, so I took it all with a grain of salt. However, in spite of the propagandist elements, the writing was good and the man really knew how to tell a good story.

I sat there for a moment, reading the cover blurb and smiling faintly in anticipation of the story. However, instead of immediately starting the new book, I set it down on the end table next to my chair, then I got up to stretch. After finishing a good book, I liked to give it a little time to ‘digest’ before I began the next one.

My eyes went over the shelves and my collection of books, and though I knew I could have fit all of those books onto a single e-reader, there was something about having a real book in your hands when you read a good story. As Dad once said, it somehow adds an extra depth to the experience. The fact that Dad had actually said this proved just how much he believed it. My father was a man of few words, only speaking when he had something worth saying, and then usually doing so as efficiently as possible.

A minute later, I left Sanctuary and stepped into the hallway. My family lived in a large house, one that probably cost more than most people could reasonably expect to spend on their homes. We had five bedrooms, a library, an individual study for each of my parents, as well as a kitchen that would please most professional chefs. Of course, this still wasn’t a mansion. My grandmother lived in a small mansion, and our house didn’t come close to where she lived.

As I walked down the hallway, I saw that the door to my dad’s office was open so I glanced inside and saw him sitting behind his desk, hard at work. My dad was tall and slender, with a receding hairline that was just starting to become obvious, and a pair of stylish glasses that were perched on his nose. I looked like a younger version of him, and though I’d already inherited the need for glasses, I hoped that I hadn’t gained his receding hairline as well. He looked up and saw me, then gave a brief nod before returning to his work.

My dad worked in the family business, as did my mom and nearly all of my relatives. Once I was old enough, I was expected to join the family business as well, though I was less than enthusiastic about that idea. In fact, I fully intended to avoid the family business completely if I could. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do when I was older, only that it wouldn’t involve the Family.

After I gave my dad a brief wave of acknowledgement, I went to my mom’s study, which was just a little further down the hall. Normally, Mom kept the door closed and locked, and on the occasions when it was open, I usually hurried past as quickly as I could so she wouldn’t notice me. This time, the door was cracked open, and though I couldn’t really see inside, I could hear Mom talking with my sister Paige.

Paige was twelve years old, and where I took after Dad, she definitely took after Mom. It was no wonder that she was Mom’s pride and joy. I’d long since accepted the fact that Paige was my mom’s favorite, and I’d even come to appreciate the benefits. While Paige received our mom’s full parental attention, I usually received far less scrutiny. And as I’d learned from watching my dad, there were advantages to blending into the background and being virtually invisible…especially where my mom was concerned.

“Remember,” Mom instructed Paige. “You must hold your essence tight so as not to let a single drop spill away. Essence is a treasure far more valuable than even gold, and once you ignite your essence and are able to gather your own…you do not want to waste any of it.”

I remained outside the room for a minute, listening in as Mom gave Paige another magic lesson, like she’d been doing for the last few months. Mom had been one of my grandmother’s apprentices, and now she was passing her knowledge on to Paige. Eventually, once Paige had learned a little more, Grandmother would take over and begin teaching her directly.

Admittedly, I felt a little jealous that Paige was being taught magic, but this was hardly the first opportunity she’d been given that I hadn’t. Ever since Paige had been born, she’d been groomed to one day take a leadership role in the Family. If I went into the family business, I’d have to take orders from my little sister, which would be more than a little humiliating. In fact, that was one of the reasons that I had no intention of going into the family business, though certainly not the only one.

The entire reason that Paige received this special treatment was because of our grandmother. Grandmother was a powerful magic user, though I’d never heard her refer to herself as a witch, sorceress, or anything else like that. What I did know was that if anything ever happened to her, only a woman of her bloodline would be able to inherit her title and power. Paige was the youngest of the three people who fit this criteria, and as such, was third in line of inheritance. There were times when I strongly suspected that the main reason my mom had married my dad, was so that one of her children or grandchildren might one day inherit my grandmother’s position.

“Focus,” Mom told Paige impatiently. “Start the exercise over. When you see your grandmother tomorrow, she may test you to see how well you’ve mastered the basics, so you had better be prepared.”

I scowled as I listened to Mom give Paige more instructions, being thankful that I didn’t have to go through these lessons. The one thing that was even worse than being ignored by my mother was being the target of her parental affection. At times like this, I almost felt sorry for Paige, because all that favoritism she received, didn’t come without a cost.

With that, I turned away from the door and quietly walked away, being careful not to make any noise. The last thing I wanted was for my mom to realize that I’d been eavesdropping on her and then yell out with the dreaded, “Bryan Adam St. Claire.” Being called out by your full name was NEVER a good thing, and it NEVER led to anything good.

Everyone else in the family was busy, which meant that I had the rest of the house to myself without having to worry about tripping over anyone else, except perhaps for our housekeeper Mrs. Henderson. However, Mrs. Henderson was probably in the kitchen getting dinner started, and I knew that she wouldn’t care what I did, just as long as I didn’t try to intrude into what she considered to be her domain.

My thoughts turned to the family room TV, and to the movies I’d saved on our DVR. I’d recently recorded Casablanca off one of the movie channels and was eager to check it out, especially after I’d watched the African Queen last week. Since Paige couldn’t appreciate any movie that hadn’t been made in the last five years, and she usually got her way when it came to deciding what to watch, this was an opportunity I couldn’t ignore. With a grin, I hurried to the family room.

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Chicago, Il, Friday July 22nd, 2016

I stood in front of a full length mirror, carefully looking myself over to make sure that I was presentable. At that moment, I was wearing a nice suit, one that I secretly thought of as being the unofficial uniform for visiting my grandmother. And since I was getting ready for my grandmother’s birthday party, I took care to ensure that my uniform looked extra sharp.

My grandmother was a stickler for formality and good manners. She didn’t tolerate rudeness, bad language in her presence, or a ‘slovenly’ appearance, and being who she was, no one dared to protest her rules…at least not within her hearing. After all, not only was she the undisputed matriarch of our family, but also of THE Family.

Three hundred years ago, one of my ancestors had gathered together her closest friends and neighbors, then formed the group that would eventually become known as the Family. Originally, their purpose had been mutual protection and profit, but over time, the organization had become larger and more powerful. Now, the Family was equal parts family business, extended family, and admittedly…a criminal empire. As far as most outsiders were concerned, we were an organized crime family, which meant that they saw my grandmother as some kind of mob boss. And admittedly, that probably wasn’t too far off.

I frowned, then ran a comb through my hair in order to catch the loose strands. Better. Once I was satisfied that I wouldn’t offend my grandmother, or even worse, have my mom chew me out for fear that I might offend my grandmother, I finally turned away from the mirror and waited for everyone else to get ready.

Since I still had to wait on everyone else, I started for Sanctuary, thinking that I might be able to get in another chapter from the book I was reading before it was time to go. I was well into the new Darius Shepard novel, and I’d left off at the part where he’d just discovered that his old partner was actually involved in the conspiracy, so I was curious about what he was going to do next.

I had barely picked up my book when my mom came through the door and gave me a disapproving look. “Bryan Adam St. Claire,” Mom announced, using the dreaded full name. “You know we’re running late. You had better not make me wait on you when we leave…”

“I won’t,” I responded, carefully keeping both my voice and expression neutral. I didn’t bother pointing out that I’d been ready for half an hour and that it was my sister Paige who was holding everything up. Mom would never listen to anything that might be considered as criticism of Paige, not when Paige was her pride and joy, and especially not from me.

After my mom had left my room, I attempted to get into my book, but I just couldn’t do so. I kept glancing to the clock, thinking about just how much I’d get chewed out if she had to delay leaving even one minute because of me.

“Never mind that we all have to wait an hour for Paige,” I muttered to myself. With that, I reluctantly closed my book and got up to leave Sanctuary.

In order to avoid giving Mom any excuse to think about me, I went to the living room, planning to wait right next to the door until it was time to go. But when I reached the living room, I was surprised to see that someone else was already there waiting. The man was a little on the short side, about the same height as me and I wasn’t even fifteen yet, but he was stocky and dressed in a nice suit.

“Marcus,” I exclaimed with a grin.

Marcus gave me a friendly smile and asked, “How are you doing, Bryan?”

“About the same as usual,” I responded with a shrug.

Marcus gave me a knowing look and nodded at that. “Then I assume you’re looking forward to going fishing next weekend…”

“Of course,” I said, grinning even more broadly.

Fishing was about the only sport or outdoor activity that I actually liked, and admittedly, that was probably because I could do it while sitting down. There was something incredibly relaxing about sitting out in a boat with your line in the water, not having to do anything but wait for the fish to bite. I was just thankful that Marcus had introduced me to fishing, and that he continued to take me out whenever possible. If nothing else, our fishing trips were a great way for me to get out of the house.

Marcus was a bodyguard for the Family, though he was usually assigned to look out for my immediate family. After all, Dad was the Family accountant, who knew where every penny was, both the legally and the illegally acquired, and he was also Grandmother’s youngest son. Mom was a trusted lieutenant and Hand…a magic user who cast spells for the Family. And then there was Paige, who was only twelve years old, but she was third in line for inheritance, which made her a potential target for enemies of the Family as well.

Though no one had ever said I was expendable to my face, I knew quite well that out of my immediate family, I was considered the least valuable to the Family, and that I had the lowest priority when it came to protection. However, I never would have guessed that from the way Marcus treated me. Our bodyguard had always been friendly to me, taking me out fishing, teaching me how to shoot a gun, giving advice on how to ask a girl out, and generally taking on the role of my favorite uncle, even though there was no blood relation.

“I’ve got a new pole I want to break in,” Marcus said, immediately catching my attention since his having a new fishing pole might mean that he’d give me his old one. “Maybe this time, we can talk your old man into coming with us…”

“Maybe,” I responded, though I doubted it. As far as I knew, my dad hasn’t gone fishing since he was my age, and he’d never shown any interest in doing so again.

Marcus and I continued to talk until everyone else was finally ready to leave. Dad joined us first, wearing a nice suit as though it was a uniform, though he tended to dress up far more often than I did. Mom and Paige arrived five minutes after him, both of them wearing nice dresses.

“You look lovely as always, Elaine,” Dad told Mom, who looked pleased by that. Though he didn’t usually speak much, spending a few words to keep Mom happy was always worth it. Then he put a hand on my shoulder and just gave me a faint smile and an approving nod.

My eyes went to Paige, who looked like a miniature version of Mom. She had long blonde hair, of the same shade as Mom’s, and it was done up in some kind of fancy braid. Her dress was even the same color as Mom’s, which was obviously intentional.

Then, just as we were about to leave, Paige abruptly announced, “I forgot my purse…”

“Go get your sister’s purse,” Mom told me.

I didn’t bother to protest that it was Paige’s purse, that she was the one who’d forgotten it, or that it was in her room. If I did, Mom would just chew ME out for wasting time and making us even later than we already were. So I turned around, being careful not to roll my eyes until she couldn’t see them, then I hurried off to do as she asked.

I knew full well that the real reason Mom told me to get my sister’s purse was that she wanted to get me into the habit of doing what Paige wanted, for when we were both older and working for the Family. The smirk on Paige’s face as I hurried off only confirmed that she knew this as well, and suggested that she may have left her purse behind intentionally, just so she could see me run for it.

Once I came back with the purse, I handed it over to Paige without a word, carefully keeping my expression blank. Paige looked a little smug as she took the purse, and she didn’t even bother to thank me. Yet again, I made myself a silent promise not to go into the family business when I was older, because there was no way I wanted to end up working for her.

“You took your time retrieving her purse,” Mom said, giving me a disapproving look, as though it was my fault Paige had left it behind. In her mind, it probably was my fault. Dad gave me a sympathetic look and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, though as usual, he didn’t actually say anything.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Marcus asked in a professional tone. I knew Marcus well enough to know that he wasn’t just reminding everyone that we were late to my grandmother’s party, he was also getting my mom off my back. As everyone hurried out the door, Marcus gave me a faint nod.

Marcus played chauffeur, as he usually did on these kinds of formal occasions, and it didn’t take him long to drive us to my grandmother’s house. Her house was a small mansion, about five times the size of our own home, and it had been built back around the time when Al Capone and Elliot Ness had been going at it. In fact, Marcus had told me that the house had even been built with some secret bootlegger tunnels, though he refused to tell me where they were. Considering who my grandmother was and what kind of business the Family did, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to find out that some of those tunnels were still in use.

The large iron gate in front of the house was usually kept closed for security, but not tonight. Tonight, there were too many guests arriving to worry about the gate, so additional guards had been added in order to compensate. As we slowly drove past, Marcus nodded to one of the guards and made a gesture with his hands, a signal that everything was as it should be. If someone had been forcing him to sneak them through, he would have given a somewhat different gesture.

Marcus stopped right in front of the main entrance, letting us out of the car before he went to park it. Two guards stood by the large and ornate set of wooden doors, one on either side. They were both dressed in nice suits, and though I couldn’t see any weapons, I knew for certain that they were both armed. They wouldn’t be very good as guards if they weren’t.

While Mom and Paige walked right through the doors, Dad stopped and nodded to the guard on the right before turning his attention to the one on the left. He gave Tony a nod, just like he had Michael, then simply said, “Congratulations for Shawn.”

“Thanks,” Tony responded with a rare smile. I was confused for a moment, until I realized what the congratulations were for. Tony’s son Shawn had just graduated from college and was on his way to medical school, and the gruff bodyguard was quite proud of him. “And thanks for making it possible.”

“Family takes care of each other,” Dad responded with a smile, referring to the fact that the Family was actually financing Shawn’s college education. Of course, Shawn was expected to join the Family after graduation, which was a common practice and one of the ways that the Family encouraged loyalty. Without saying another word, Dad put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and gave him a nod before going inside.

Once inside, we entered the large ballroom where the party was occurring. Several dozen guests were already present, most of them members of the Family. My eyes swept the group, and I took note of who was here and who would probably show up later. I knew just about everyone I saw, at least enough to recognize them on sight. Many of them were related to me in one way or another, either by blood or marriage. I saw an uncle and a couple cousins from my mom’s side of the family. Then I saw my uncle Andre, sitting back in the corner. Dad immediately started towards his older brother while I was left to do my own thing.

I spotted my mom a moment later, along with Paige who was following immediately behind her. Mom stopped next to Aunt Clarice, my dad’s older sister and the first in line of inheritance. Aunt Clarice’s daughter, my seventeen year old cousin Nicolette, was second in line of succession and standing right beside her mother.

I felt just a little awkward as I watched the gathering of the first, second, and third in line of inheritance, all standing together. Aunt Clarice was already one of the most influential members of the Family, and might very well end up inheriting my grandmother’s power and position one day. In just a few years, Nicolette and then Paige would join the leadership of the Family as well, and I knew that both my sister and cousin were spoiled brats. I doubted that would be good for anyone.

After a moment, I tore my eyes away from them and looked over the room again. This time, my attention settled on a very distinctive woman, one who looked to be in her thirties, but who had pure white skin and hair…the same color as chalk or freshly fallen snow. She wore a long white dress, which was elegant and undoubtedly very expensive. About the only real color that she possessed was in the red lipstick she wore, and the ruby necklace and earrings. There was a reason that my grandmother was known as the White Lady.

My grandmother was in the middle of a conversation with several people, which was probably why my parents hadn’t gone straight over to greet her upon arrival. She could be pretty intimidating, especially if someone did something that she considered rude, such as interrupting her while she was talking. After several seconds of hesitation, I slowly started walking towards her.

When I was closer, I could hear a little of the conversation. One of the men whom my grandmother was talking to, said, “So, you really did know Al Capone…”

“Oui,” Grandmother responded, looking faintly amused. “Alphonse and I had our disagreements, but we came to an understanding.”

I paused to listen in for a moment, not at all surprised to hear them talking about Al Capone, though I was curious. My grandmother was older than she looked, a lot older. Even though the party was in honor of my grandmother’s birthday, no one knew her exact age, and she wasn’t saying. What I did know was that she’d inherited the title of the White Lady during World War One, when her predecessor had been killed during a German attack. After that, she’d fled to the United States, along with the surviving members of the Family, then over the next few decades, she’d rebuilt the Family from a handful of refugees into the influential organization they’d once again become.

I remained where I was, listening in for a little longer as my grandmother told her companions about her first meeting with Al Capone. She had quite a few interesting stories, though she rarely bothered to share them. On the rare occasions when she did, they were well worth listening to. One of my favorites was the story of how she’d first met Champion…the original Champion…back in the days when she’d been a costumed supervillain. That had been decades ago, during the 30’s and 40’s, but some of the local superheroes still kept a close eye on her because of it, or at least they tried to.

Grandmother finally seemed to notice my presence and turned to look at me with her pale silvery eyes. I shrunk just a little under her gaze and squirmed uncomfortably. Most people did. But in spite of her strict demeanor and eccentric appearance, Grandmother was actually quite protective of her family, and I had no fear of being in any kind of danger from her.

After a moment, my eyes darted to her bare right arm, which revealed several unusual marks on her otherwise pure white skin. These marks were like tattoos, each looking like some kind of symbol or rune that reminding me a bit of Chinese writing, though they were actually quite different. Instead of ink, each of these tattoos was composed of shiny lines and swirls on her skin, which reminded me of the watermarks you sometimes saw on important papers. If you looked at them straight on, they tended to blend in with her skin so you didn’t notice them, unless the light caught them enough to reflect off the shiny spots. There was one on the back of her hand, stretching out to her wrist, one just below her elbow, and one at her upper arm, though I knew she had others on her body as well, all hidden beneath her clothes. These watermark tattoos were just another sign of how unusual my grandmother was.

“Bonjour, Bryan,” she greeted me. It had been about a hundred years since she’d left France, and she still had a noticeable accent. Of course, I suspected that she intentionally kept the accent in order to help maintain her exotic image.

“Hello, Grandmother,” I said in response, feeling intimidated in spite of the fact that she’d never hurt me. “I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Merci,” she responded with a faint smile. Then she looked to her companions and said, “You remember my grandson Bryan?”

One of the old men looked me over and chuckled, holding his hand down about waist high. “You were about this tall the last time I saw you.”

“They do grow quickly,” Grandmother told me with a look of amusement.

Grandmother asked me a few polite questions about how I was doing, then dismissed me. I quickly hurried off, thankful that I’d gotten that taken care of. However, as I walked away from my grandmother, I saw Mom and Paige standing back and glaring at me. Apparently, I’d annoyed them by beating them to Grandmother, which meant that I’d probably hear about it once we got home.

Since I’d fulfilled my obligation, I began wandering around, mingling a little and making a few polite greetings as I slowly made my way to the far wall where Dad was sitting with Uncle Andre. I wasn’t really comfortable with parties or being around a lot of people, which was something I’d inherited from Dad. Uncle Andre had a different excuse for sitting back out of the way. His age. If I hadn’t known that Dad and Uncle Andre were brothers, I never would have guessed it. Uncle Andre was about eighty, which meant that he looked more like my grandfather or great-grandfather than he did my uncle.

“Hello, Bryan,” Uncle Andre greeted me as I came over. He leaned over on his cane, adjusted his glasses, and gave me a good look before nodding faintly. “You’re growing like a weed, boy.” I just smiled politely at that, not sure what to say in response.

The three of us just sat there in silence for about ten minutes, watching as everyone went past but not saying a thing. I wished that I’d brought my book, though I knew that never would have been allowed since it would probably have been considered rude. Still, I would much rather have been reading than sitting back and people-watching.

Suddenly, a flash of white shot down from the ceiling, making me jump back and out of my chair in surprise. Dad and Uncle Andre both laughed at my reaction. Then I saw the source of my surprise, a large white bird that was now perched on the back of an empty chair in front of us. However, this wasn’t just any white bird. This was a white raven.

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered to Lenore, my grandmother’s familiar. Lenore cawed and then nodded her head as though to acknowledge my comment.

“Hello to you too, old girl,” Uncle Andre told the familiar. Then he smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag full of dead crickets. After feeding her a few crickets, Uncle Andre turned to me and said, “Back when I was just a boy, Lenore used to watch over me like my own personal bodyguard.” He gently pet the bird, who fluttered her wings a little in response. “She doesn’t look like she’s aged a day…”

And with that, Uncle Andre glanced across the room to my grandmother, who probably looked as though she hadn’t aged a day either. That just made me wonder how strange it must be for him, to have a mother who looked young enough to be his daughter…or even granddaughter.

Lenore remained where she was, enjoying the attention for another minute before she took off, flying across the room and settling down a perch that had been set up for her. With the raven gone, Uncle Andre turned his attention back on me. He studied me for a moment, then asked, “Has your father begun teaching you the business yet?”

I blinked a little in confusion, then glanced to my dad, who had a slightly guilty expression on his face. “Not yet,” Dad answered Uncle Andre. “I intend to wait until Bryan is finished with high school.”

For a brief moment, I looked back and forth between Dad and Uncle Andre, wondering what they were talking about. Then it dawned on me. For decades, Uncle Andre had been the Family accountant, then when he was ready to retire from that job, he’d passed the job on to my dad. Now, it looks like they were planning on me eventually becoming Dad’s replacement. I felt a knot form in my stomach as I realized that they were planning my future, without even asking what I thought. Of course, I’d always known that I’d be pressured to go into the family business, but I’d always thought that was something I’d have to worry about in the distant future.

Dad seemed to sense my reticence, because he put a gentle hand on mine and simply said, “The Family comes first. We all have to do our part.” All I could to do that was nod numbly.

After that little revelation, I no longer felt quite so comfortable just hanging out with Dad and Uncle Andre. I kind of feared that if I stayed there, I’d get caught up listening to all the plans that the Family had made for my future, and right now, that was about the last thing I wanted to deal with, so I got up to go ‘mingle’.

I slowly made my way across the large ballroom, making several stops to talk with people for a minute or two before moving on. I had nearly reached the spot where Lenore was perched, when someone screamed. I immediately snapped around, looking for the source of the scream, and I saw it at the entrance to the ballroom.

Two people had just entered the room through the large wooden doors. The man in front was tall and thin, as well as old…but not as old as Uncle Andre. He looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties, and he was dressed in a very nice but somewhat old fashioned suit. The old man was leaning on a cane, and at first glance, I thought he looked like some kind of fancy British gentleman…or a butler.

Standing beside the old man was a beautiful blonde woman, one who was dressed in a green and black spandex costume. Her clothing choice was a little surprising for the party, though I knew for a fact that at least one of my grandmother’s other guests tended to wear spandex when he was at work. However, it only took me a moment realize that what had caused the scream, was the fact that she had a gun in each hand, and she was pointing them into the crowd.

The blonde woman opened fire, shooting into the crowd of guests at random. Before she’d fired the first shot, the guards were already in motion. Well-dressed men, suddenly pulled weapons out from their jackets, aiming at the old man and the blonde. After only a couple shots, she changed her target and started firing at the guards instead.

“Do not forget our targets,” the old man announced, yanking on his cane and revealing the thin rapier blade that had been hidden within. Without further warning, he slashed out with the blade, moving with an unbelievable speed as he lunged forward and impaled Jon Duboir, then slashed to the side and sliced through another man while making his way towards my grandmother.

“Of course not, Daddy,” the blonde responded with a smirk, right before she suddenly vanished. An instant later, the blonde appeared on the other side of the room, right in front of where Aunt Clarice and my cousin Nicolette were trying to escape out the back door. She didn’t say a word as she immediately opened fire. I could only watch in horror as my aunt and cousin were murdered right before my eyes.

I just stood there, staring at the scene in front of me in stunned disbelief. I was in shock and not thinking clearly, otherwise I would have run for the exits or dove for cover like nearly everyone else was. As it was, the guards and enforcers had the opposite reaction and were trying to go for the intruders, but there were still too many guests in the way for them to shoot indiscriminately.

Suddenly, a wave of flame swept across the room, straight at the old man. He just stood there, letting the flames wash over him without seeming to harm him in the least. However, that drew my eyes to the source of the flames, my grandmother. She stood in the middle of the room with a look of icy cold fury on her face. Her eyes were glowing a reddish orange, as were the symbols on her arm which were normally very difficult to see from a distance. At that moment, she looked even more intimidating than I’d ever seen her look before, and I was VERY grateful that it wasn’t directed at me.

“How dare you intrude on my home uninvited?” Grandmother demanded in a hard tone. “And even worse, you have the gall to attack my guests.”

“Please, don’t waste your energies, Madame,” the old man said in an almost pleasant tone. “You see, one of my gifts is a certain protection from magic.”

“You will pay for your actions,” Grandmother stated, as though this was a simple fact.

With that, some of the intricate patterns on the ballroom floor began to glow in the area around Grandmother and the old man. A moment later, a column of light erupted from around the old man, followed by an explosion of force. However, by the time the light cleared, the old man was no longer standing in the same spot and had moved outside the glowing symbols.

“I assure you, Madame, that there is nothing personal in my actions,” the old man commented, suddenly lunging to the side, using his sword to slice at one of the guards who was trying to get close enough to shoot him without hitting any of the panicking guests, “I am merely the messenger. Unfortunately for you and your heirs, the message I was hired to deliver this day is one of death.”

The decorative patterns beneath the old man began to glow again, and at the same time, Grandmother’s eyes and tattoos began to glow with a silvery white color. A transparent bubble formed around my grandmother. I wasn’t sure what the glowing symbols beneath the man were meant to do, because they didn’t seem to bother him in the least. He suddenly charged forward, moving with a blinding speed and going through the bubble as though it wasn’t even there. A mere second after he’d begun to move, he drove his sword straight into Grandmother’s chest.

I let out another gasp of horror, but just then, something slammed into me from behind and knocked me to the ground. “GET DOWN,” a familiar voice command. “Take cover.”

Marcus crouched down beside me, aiming his gun at the old man, though he didn’t shoot. It took me a moment to realize that with the way they were positioned, the old man had my grandmother in front of him like a shield. If Marcus tried shooting him, he’d likely hit my grandmother instead. After a moment, Marcus shifted targets and took several shots at the blonde woman instead. Unfortunately, that did little good as she instantly teleported again, which made her difficult for him to target.

Then I saw that Mom and Paige had taken cover behind a table they’d knocked over, but the blonde woman appeared right behind them. “NO,” Dad and I cried out at the same time, right before Dad tackled the blonde woman. She was thrown to the ground, though immediately teleported again, appearing right behind Dad and firing three shots into his back.

I wanted to scream, but my throat was frozen and no sound escaped. Mom stared at Dad’s body for a moment, an expression of rage and grief forming on her face. My Mom had been so focused on Paige, on grooming her to be the perfect heir for my grandmother, that I’d always wondered if she’d been some kind of gold digger, marrying Dad just so that her daughter might inherit. But at that instant, the look on my mom’s face made those suspicions vanish.

The blonde raised her guns again, then the gunshots echoed through the large room. However, this time it was the blonde who was shot, causing her to lose one of her guns as she staggered back. Marcus jumped to his feet and fired several more shots at her, though she teleported again instead of going down. I didn’t see any blood coming from her either, which probably meant that her uniform was made of kevra or something similar.

While this was happening, Lenore threw herself at the old man, viciously attacking him with her beak and claws. The old man swung at the raven, but as fast as he was, the bird was somehow able to avoid being hit. Grandmother had fallen to the ground, though she was still moving a little. Her arm was stretched out and it looked like she was drawing something on the floor, using her own blood.

I’d always known that my mom could perform magic, though I’d never really seen her do anything flashy or impressive. She’d always said that essence was far too valuable to waste on showing off, though at that moment, she seemed to be making an exception. Mom stood there, no longer bothering to use the table as cover. In her hand, she held out a crystal, which suddenly burst into blue flames.

“Run,” Mom yelled at Paige, right before throwing the flames at the blonde woman.

The blonde woman was still dodging Marcus’ gunfire, and apparently didn’t notice Mom’s attack until she was suddenly engulfed in blue fire. She screamed as she teleported away, leaving the flames behind, though when she reappeared, her uniform and was a little charred and her exposed skin was blistered and burnt. The murderess looked hurt and furious, but instead of shooting back at Marcus or Mom, she targeted Paige instead, shooting my sister in the back just as she’d nearly reached the exit.

“PAIGE,” I cried out in horror, simultaneously wanting to run over and check on my sister, and run away as fast as I could. I felt guilty for my cowardice, but it didn’t really matter because at that moment, I was too terrified to move at all. I remained frozen where I was, helpless do to anything but watch the nightmare that surrounded me.

“You…will…pay,” Grandmother said, her voice extremely weak though I was still able to make it out.

As I looked at Grandmother again, I realized that whatever she’d drawn on the floor with her blood was starting to glow. Suddenly, the floor around her exploded, sending shards of marble flying in every direction. The old man jumped back, but even he wasn’t fast enough to completely avoid the marble shrapnel which tore through him in several places.

A moment later, I realized that whatever Grandmother had done, it wasn’t finished yet. All over the ballroom, patterns that were etched into the marble floor began to glow, though not all of them. Suddenly, anyone who was touching one of these glowing patterns was engulfed in golden flames. Two of the guests who’d been staying down to avoid being shot, let out shrieks of agony, then collapsed like rag dolls. However, they weren’t the only ones. The blonde killer was taking aim at my mom when she was engulfed as well. And like the two guests, she screamed, then dropped motionless to the floor.

The old man was standing on some of the glowing patterns as well, but unlike everyone else, the golden flames did absolutely nothing to him. However, as soon as his partner fell, he yelled out, “Bethany!”

Before the old man had even finished calling out her name, he raced across the ballroom so fast I could barely see him moving. An instant later, his sword slashed out again, right across my mom’s throat. He didn’t even glance at her as she fell to the floor. Instead, he hurried over to the blonde. From the look of pain and rage on his face, she was probably dead. After what they’d just done, I felt a dark satisfaction in that.

“Even upon death, the White Lady proves a dangerous adversary,” the old man spoke in a grim tone, looking across the room to my grandmother…or at least what was left of her. She’d been at ground zero when the floor exploded, and she hadn’t escaped the shrapnel. “True to your word, you have made me pay a steep price indeed.”

With that, the old man picked up the body of his partner, lifting her up as though she weighed almost nothing. Marcus took advantage of the old man’s distraction to take another shot, but even then, the old man shifted position quickly enough that the bullet merely grazed his arm.

“The message has been delivered,” the old man stated, staring straight at Marcus with a cold deadly gaze. “I have no reason to remain, so if you force me to linger, I will be forced to slay every last person remaining.”

Marcus hesitated a moment, his expression grim though his eyes burned with rage. He glanced to me, then at the other people who were scattered around the room, desperately trying to hide in corners or behind flimsy furniture. After another second of consideration, Marcus glared at the old man but gave a faint nod.

The old man didn’t say a word as he walked right out the double doors with the blonde still in his arms. Marcus watched him with a burning intensity, and I was sure that he was going to shoot the old man in the back. However, Marcus held off, probably fearing just how fast that old man was and not wanting to risk any further deaths.

Once the old man was gone, the overwhelming sense of danger faded, though this was hardly a relief. Because without the immediate threat to my own life, I was suddenly hit with the crushing nightmare of what had just happened, and all I could do was start screaming.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Saturday afternoon, July 23rd, 2016

I was in bed, curled up in the fetal position and shaking like a leaf. I had no idea how long I’d been there, nor did I care. All I knew was that I’d been sobbing uncontrollably for so long that my eyes were cried out. At that moment, my entire being was a swirling mass of grief, rage, confusion, and terror, all rolled into one horrific knot.

With nearly every breath, images flashed through my mind. I closed my eyes tightly in order to shut them out, but that only brought them on stronger. I saw my grandmother, laying on the floor and using her own blood and her last breath to fight back against the intruders. I saw my dad, killed while trying to protect my mom and sister. Mom, had actually managed to hurt that blonde bitch, doing something with magic that I’d never seen her do before, though it hadn’t been quite enough. And Paige, who’d been shot in the back while trying to escape.

While all that had been going on, I just stood there like some kind of idiot. My family had been murdered right in front of me, and I hadn’t done a single damn thing to help. I’d been too terrified to even run away. I felt so disgusted with myself…so ashamed. I just wanted to curl up and die.

Eventually a full bladder began calling for my attention, and no matter how much I wanted to ignore the outside world, that was one thing I couldn’t ignore. I finally opened my eyes, and the sunlight streaming through the curtain told me that it was about the middle of the day. I was vaguely surprised at that, though I couldn’t bring myself to really care.

In spite of my urgent need to go relieve myself, I remained where I was, knowing I should get up but just not being able to make myself move. While I lay there, I looked around the room. It was empty of anything except some basic furniture, and it was almost completely devoid of any personality. It wasn’t my room…or even my home. Last night, Marcus had brought me to his apartment and put me to bed in his spare bedroom. After a few more minutes of just looking at the unfamiliar walls, I finally managed to climb out of bed, though I did so with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

I didn’t want to go wandering around Marcus’ home in nothing but my underwear, and the only thing I had to wear was the suit that I’d been wearing last night. When I’d gotten undressed, there had been blood on the jacket sleeve, though I hadn’t been injured and had no real idea of how it got there. A lot of what happened after the attack was a bit of a blur.

After I put on my pants, without bothering to worry about my glasses or a shirt, I grudgingly left the bedroom and went straight to the bathroom. I performed my business while on auto-pilot, and when I came out of the bathroom, I found Marcus standing in the hallway. Like me, he was only wearing a pair of pants, but unlike me, he had a bandage wrapped around one of his shoulders. I was a little startled at that since I hadn’t realized he’d been injured, but I probably shouldn’t have been. There had been a lot of bullets flying around.

My eyes darted to the tattoo that was on one side of Marcus’ chest, a set of strange, interconnected symbols and writing in black ink. I didn’t know what all these symbols meant, only that the tattoo was really a magic spell that my grandmother had put on Marcus, increasing his strength, stamina and vitality. Marcus was one of the Loyal, one of the select few bodyguards and enforcers who were considered completely trustworthy and deserving of this honor.

Marcus gave me a concerned look and asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right,” I lied.

Marcus just nodded at that, not looking like he believed me but not pushing the matter either. Instead, he gave a faint grunt and said, “I was just about to fix up something to eat…”

“I’m not hungry,” I responded without much energy.

Marcus grunted again. “Maybe not, but you still need to eat something. You’re gonna need the energy.”

I didn’t have the emotional energy to argue with Marcus, so I shambled behind him into the kitchen, where he began cooking up a bunch of scrambled eggs and sausages. I ate without enthusiasm, only taking a few bites. Marcus watched me without saying anything, though I could see that he was worried. After eating about a third of what Marcus had given me, I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything more.

Marcus remained silent while we ate, though afterwards, he gave me a steady look. “I was only a little younger than you are when my old man died,” Marcus finally said. His gruff voice was calm and steady as he continued. “He was killed by some vigilante hero who was trying to take out the White Lady…your grandmother.”

I gave Marcus a look of surprise. I’d known that Marcus’ family had been in the Family for a few generations, and that his dad had been one of the Loyal before him, but this was the first I’d heard about his death.

“Afterwards, the Lady took care of my family,” Marcus told me. “She made sure that we had everything we needed, that our mortgage was paid off, and that my sister could go to college.” He paused at that, giving me a faint smile before stating, “Your grandmother was a real class act. I truly wish I could have saved her and the rest of your family.”

I nodded weakly at that, feeling the tears starting to form again as I whispered, “Me too…”

“One thing I’ll never forget,” Marcus told me grimly, looking me straight in the eyes. “I was just a kid, but the Lady took the time to actually talk to me. She promised me that she’d make the guy who killed my old man pay. And she did.” Then he reached over and put his hand on mine as he added, “And I promise you, the people responsible for this will pay.”

“Good,” I stated. I’d never been a vengeful person before, but at that moment, I suddenly wanted it a great deal.

In spite of that brief burst of focused anger, the grief soon rushed over me again and I quietly slipped back to the bedroom where I promptly curled up under the covers again. Since I hadn’t actually gotten any sleep last night, I was exhausted, and shortly after I was back in bed, sleep finally claimed me.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Saturday, early evening, July 23rd, 2016

When I woke up from my nap, I felt better physically, though not so much emotionally. I just wanted to turn over and go back to sleep, to escape reality for a little longer. Unfortunately, I had a really nasty itch in the middle of my back, which was what woke me from my sleep in the first place. This time, I climbed out of bed much more quickly than the last, just so I could rub my back against the wall in an attempt to scratch it. It helped a bit, but not as much as I would have liked.

I threw my pants back on and then grudgingly went out to use the bathroom again. However, I had barely left the bedroom when I heard voices coming from the living room. I immediately recognized one of them as being Marcus, though it took me a few seconds to recognize the other. It was Tessa, my mom’s friend and my grandmother’s personal assistant.

I paused where I was, though the only thing I could really make out was Marcus saying, “Survivor’s guilt…” I realized that they were probably talking about me, but after last night, there were probably a lot of other survivors who felt guilty as well. I hesitated a moment, then quietly crept closer to that I could make out more of what they were saying. “I really feel for the kid,” Marcus told her. “He just lost his entire family…”

“I’m worried about Bryan too,” Tessa said a moment later. “Elaine is…was one of my closest friends. But to be honest, as horrible as her death is, I’m even more concerned about the rest of the Family. We lost more than a dozen people.”

“I know,” Marcus responded grimly. “Three of them were Loyal. They got Michael, Jean, and Larry. Tony’s still alive, but he won’t be in any shape to fight for awhile. As it is, I’m now the senior Loyal.”

“And I am now the senior Hand,” Tessa added with an exhausted sounding sigh. “Clarice and Elaine were two of our best, and now we’ve lost them…a third of our number. And unfortunately, you know as well as I that as tragic as these deaths are, they cannot compare to our greatest loss.”

“The White Lady,” Marcus stated. I peeked around the corner and saw him standing with a deep grimace on his face.

Tessa, a slender brunette with her hair pulled back into a braid, nodded her head in agreement. Then with a look that was every bit as grim as Marcus’, she quietly added, “And all of her heirs. Without the White Lady, I don’t know how long the Family can last. She was the heart that pumped our blood…and we cannot long survive without our heart.”

I stepped further back into the hallway so they wouldn’t see me, and continued listening. I knew that eavesdropping like that was rude, but I’d long ago learned that staying out of sight and keeping your eyes and ears open was the best way to learn what was going on. After all, if I’d waited for my parents to tell me anything, I never would have learned a thing.

After a few more minutes of talking about how bad the situation was, Marcus said, “I found a name for our assassin. Apparently, the guy calls himself the Messenger. He’s a freelancer, used to work the UK until a few years ago when he pissed off a couple of the wrong people. I’ve put the word into a few discreet ears that we’re looking for him, for a little payback.”

Tessa was silent for a moment, then responded, “If this Messenger is a hired gun, then we need to find who hired him.”

“No one is claiming credit, yet,” Marcus pointed out with a shake of his head. “Could be the Outfit, but the Lady had an understanding with them, so I don’t see them pulling this crap. My guess is that it’s Scorn and his people. They’ve been trying to move in on our shipping and protection businesses for years, so this is just the opening they need. With the Lady gone, we’re vulnerable, and if we’re not careful, they can sweep in and take everything.”

“Agreed,” Tessa told him. “But we need to know who did this for certain. I’ll warn everyone to keep their eyes open and expect trouble.”

I clenched my fists tightly as I listened to this, feeling the anger rising again. At least now, I knew the name of the monster who’d murdered my family, though it seemed that we still didn’t know for sure who hired him. Still, I was relieved to see that Marcus was taking his promise seriously.

Once Marcus and Tessa were finished with their conversation, I quietly backed away and went to the bathroom to do what I’d intended to before the distraction. While I was doing this, I was annoyed to find that the itch from my back had spread, and I could now feel it in a number of different spots. However, it was a strange sensation that was part itch, part tingle, and part cold chill. I absently scratched one of the itchy spots on my arm as I went out to Marcus, and to see if he’d be honest and tell me anything that he’d learned.

In the living room, I found Marcus sitting on his couch with a gun disassembled and spread out on the coffee table in front of him. He was busy cleaning the weapon and didn’t even glance up at my entrance. I saw no sign of Tessa and figured that she must have left as soon as they were done talking.

“I assume you heard us talking,” Marcus said, surprising me since I thought I’d been sneaky.

“A little,” I admitted awkwardly. I was feeling a little shaky as I thought about it, but I had to get the words out. “That guy… He’s called the Messenger?”

Marcus snorted at that. “Yeah. From what I gather, he likes to make out like he’s not personally involved. He’s just a messenger, delivering a message from one person to another.”

I felt myself growing angrier at that, at the idea that the man who murdered my family didn’t even think it was personal. It certainly was personal, and I wanted to see him pay for what he’d done. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did.

Marcus finally looked up at me and said, “Tessa stopped by your house and picked up a few of your things.” He gestured to a cardboard box, which seemed to be filled with clothes.

I nodded at that, glad that at least I’d have something to wear. However, tears started to form again, though I tried to choke them down, without much success.

“What’s going to happen to me?” I asked quietly. I was shaken, realizing that I couldn’t go back home, not when there was no one else there. However, I had no idea of where else I could go.

“I’m not really sure,” Marcus reluctantly admitted. “You’re more than welcome to stay here with me, but you’ve still got some blood relatives who probably want to take you in. Just remember, you aren’t on your own. The Family takes care of each other.”

I nodded faintly at that, not really feeling very reassured. I continued to absently scratch my arm, then finally looked at where I was scratching, wondering if I had a bug bite or something that was causing this. However, what I saw was certainly no bug bite.

“What in the world?” I asked, staring at a spot on my arm, just below the elbow, where I now had a strange symbol marking my skin like a tattoo. It was about three inches across, and instead of ink, the symbol was drawn in pale and shiny lines on my skin, much like a watermark. It took me a moment to realize that it was identical to the symbol that my grandmother had…used to have…in the same location. “How…?”

I ran my fingers over mark on my skin, and it felt like normal smooth skin, except for the fact that I felt a faint tingle in my fingertips. I pulled my hand back, staring at that symbol, then at the back of my hand where another symbol had also mysteriously appeared.

“Bryan,” Marcus exclaimed, jumping to his feet and staring at my arm with a look of surprise. “Where did you get these?”

“I don’t know,” I responded, feeling surprised and a bit confused. “They weren’t there earlier, and they’re just like the ones Grandmother had…”

Marcus nodded at that, then instructed, “Turn around.” I did as he asked, and a few seconds later, he said, “You’ve got some running across your back too…” I felt his finger, touching my right shoulder and then going down across my back to about my left hip. “Seven of them.”

“Did my grandmother do this?” I asked, pretty sure that she had something to do with my gaining these marks.

Marcus just started at me for a moment, his expression grim, though I could see a mixture of excitement and worry in his eyes. After a few more seconds, he picked up his cell phone and made a quick call. “Tessa,” he greeted her. “You’d better get back over here as soon as possible. It looks like the White Lady may have left a successor after all.”

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Sunday morning, July 24th, 2016

Tessa Contrare stood in front of me, holding up a clear crystal and staring at me through it, just as she had been for the last minutes. Then without a word, she shifted over to a blue crystal and stared at me through that one instead.

“I do not know how this is possible,” Tessa finally said, staring at me with a look of amazement, “but you hold the power of the White Lady.”

“Told ya,” Marcus commented from a few feet away, looking just a little smug.

“You don’t understand,” Tessa told him, giving me a curious look. “This shouldn’t be possible. The Lady told me that her power could only go to a female heir, and if there wasn’t one available, the power would dissipate and be lost forever…”

“Maybe the Lady was wrong,” Marcus pointed out thoughtfully. “I mean, her predecessors all had women to inherit their power, so no one has ever seen what really happens when there isn’t a female heir left. Maybe the power doesn’t really require the heir to be a girl, but just prefers it.”

“Perhaps,” Tessa reluctantly agreed.

“Or maybe,” Marcus added after a moment. “Maybe she knew but didn’t want it getting out…in case it gave some people ideas.”

“Also a possibility,” Tessa responded with a sigh. She didn’t look convinced.

I bit my lip, not saying a word as Marcus and Tessa discussed what was happening to me. They both seemed excited, but I was terrified. Terrified and confused. After what had happened the other day, I just wanted to scream, and cry, and hide under my bed covers until everything just went away. But now all this was happening to me as well...

“This is a bad dream,” I whispered as I lifted my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose. This was a mannerism that I’d picked up from Dad, and which reminded me of him as I performed it, for both good and bad.

Yesterday, I’d had that annoying itch to deal with, and I really wished it had ended there. Once the itching had passed, I’d been left with these marks all over my body, which looked like they had been tattooed on with some kind of shiny watercolor ink. There were fifteen of these symbols, each one different from the others. There were three of them on my right arm, seven going diagonally down my back, and three more on my left leg. In addition, I had them on my right upper arm and on my stomach as well. All of these symbols were about three inches across, except the one in the very center of my back, which was about five inches across.

After these symbols had appeared on my skin, other things began to happen to me as well. At first, it was just my hair, which kept becoming lighter, so that by the time I went back to bed, it was all pale blonde. By the time I woke up, not only was my hair pure white, but it had also grown about four inches. It had grown another two inches since then.

I nervously stared at my hands, gulping as I did so. I’d never been much of an outdoors person, but what little tan I had possessed was now gone. Like my hair, my skin was becoming bleached out, and I was now so pale that it looked like I’d never seen sunlight in my life. I looked like some kind of albino, and if these changes continued, then it wouldn’t be long before I had the same coloration as my grandmother.

All these changes were a clear indication that I had somehow inherited my grandmother’s power, though it should have been impossible. Everyone in the family knew that if something happened to her, the only ones she could pass her power and title to were girls of the right bloodline. That meant Aunt Clarice, Nicolette, or Paige. Once Grandmother died, this should have gone to one of them…not to me. That just sent another wave of guilt crashing through me, making me gasp at the weight of it.

“Bryan is already developing all the marks,” Tessa told Marcus, making me blink since I’d been distracted and not paying attention. “The White Lady’s legacy has clearly taken hold.” She gave me a thoughtful look before continuing. “I think we should tell the other Family leaders that we have a successor, but that we should keep all the details to ourselves for now. Knowing that we have a successor will help to calm everyone down and reassure them, but…”

“But knowing that the Lady’s successor is underage and a boy would do the opposite,” Marcus finished for her. He frowned thoughtfully, then nodded. “That would raise a lot of questions and concerns. I agree. We’ll let everyone get settled down a little before we break out the details.”

So far, Marcus and Tessa had talking about all this as though I wasn’t right there, as though I didn’t have a stake in what they were saying. I felt a knot of dread in my stomach and had to clench my fists tightly just to keep from shaking. I took a deep breath, then blurted out, “What does this mean for me?”

Marcus and Tessa both looked startled at that, and Marcus had a faint expression of guilt. However, it was Tessa who looked me in the eyes and answered, “This means that you…you’re going to inherit all of your grandmother’s powers.” I gulped at that, suddenly feeling even more shaken, though I tried not to show it. “And it means that you are going to be the new leader of the Family.”

I nearly choked at that. For the last couple years, ever since I was old enough to really understand that the Family made their money from being criminals, I’ve intended to avoid joining. The fact that Paige would have been my boss was merely the last bit of motivation I’d needed to make that decision. Now my choice, and even the illusion of having a choice, had been shredded.

I sat frozen, too shocked at that sudden bit of understanding to even think of a response. Tessa seemed to take that as acceptance because she continued. “I have served the Lady as her personal assistant for over a decade, and one of my duties has always been, to help prepare her successor should the need arise. Your family legacy…this power has been passed down through the women in your family for centuries. Your grandmother was the fifth woman to wield it…the fifth White Lady. It seems that you are to be the first White Lord.” She paused at that, staring me straight in the eyes as she finished. “I promise, I will help you however I can.”

“You aren’t alone,” Marcus told me. “I know this is a lot to take in, especially after everything that’s already happened.”

“Oh God,” I gasped, shaking in my seat.

“The Lady always knew her time would eventually end,” Tessa continued, her voice calm and steady, though still filled with sadness. “She made plans for that eventuality.”

“We don’t have to do this right now,” Marcus said, giving me a worried look. He looked to Tessa and added, “Bryan looks worn out. This is a lot for him to take in…especially considering…”

Tessa stared at me for a moment, then her expression softened to one of concern. She put her hand on mine, in what was obviously intended to be a comforting manner. “I’ve known your mother since I was your age,” she told me in a gentle voice, giving me a sad smile. “Elaine was my friend as much as a rival, and I’m going to miss her a great deal. If you need anything, anything at all, let me know.”

“Thank you,” I responded quietly.

“Then, it seems we are done for the moment,” Tessa said. “So I will take my leave for now, though I will return early tomorrow.” She paused at that, then gave me another sympathetic look. “I know that this isn’t easy, especially not after losing your family. I wish we could hold off until you were ready, but I fear that time is the of the essence. You will soon be developing new powers, powers that the other heirs were trained to deal with ahead of time, but which you were not. And just as importantly, I need to prepare you for your new role.”

With that, Tessa said a polite goodbye to us before she departed. I was left where I was, feeling even more overwhelmed than before, which I hadn’t thought was even possible. I gulped, then got to my feet before slowly staggering back to the hallway.

I went to the bathroom, though not to relieve myself. Instead, I turned on the faucet, removed my glasses, and splashed my face with some cold water. Perhaps some part of me hoped that by doing this, I might shock myself awake and find that the events of the last couple days had just been some kind of twisted nightmare. Maybe I’d wake up in my bed and everything would be perfectly normal again. I didn’t really believe this, but it was nice to hope, even if only for a second.

As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, it felt as though I was staring at a complete stranger. My hair was pure white and far longer than it should be, which almost made it look as though it was some kind of Halloween wig. My skin was ridiculously pale, and I realized that I could no longer see the veins beneath it as I had been able to a short time ago. My skin was no longer just losing pigmentation, it was starting to change and become white, just as my grandmother’s had been. And then, I saw that my eyes had changed without my even noticing until then. My irises were a pale silvery color, identical to my grandmother’s.

For a moment, it felt as though my heart jumped up into my throat and I couldn’t swallow. I stood there frozen as I continued staring at my reflection, only absently noticing that everything was crystal clear, and that there was none of the blurriness I usually saw without my glasses. After everything else that was happening to me, improved vision seemed a very minor compensation.

During my life, I’d met professional bodyguards, enforcers, and even a supervillain or two, but my grandmother had always been the most intimidating person I knew. Part of that had been due to her power, both the magic and her control over the Family, and part had simply been from her personality, the air of confidence and calm control that she radiated. And admittedly, a great deal of that had also come from her eerie and almost inhuman appearance. To see so much of my grandmother staring back at me from the mirror was terrifying. It was like she was reaching out from the grave in order to possess me.

My legs collapsed from beneath me and I dropped right to the floor. A crushing wave of grief, guilt, and dread all rushed over me at once, drowning me in its strength. Without consciously thinking about it, I curled up into a ball and began sobbing uncontrollably.

Chicago, Il, Sunday late afternoon, July 24th, 2016

Marcus had a nice kitchen table, one which was solid oak and looked as though it had never really been used. I sat at the table, across from Marcus, though neither of us really said anything. I appreciated the fact that Marcus didn’t bother trying to make small talk, because I wasn’t in the mood for it. Ever since this morning, I’d been hiding out in the guest bedroom, and it was only the promise of dinner that finally lured me out.

Dinner was a deep dish sausage and onion pizza from Mama Carlotti’s, which was one of my favorite foods from one of my favorite restaurants. On one hand, I didn’t feel like eating, but on the other…I was really hungry and that pizza looked delicious. I was pretty sure that the menu wasn’t a coincidence. Marcus was clearly trying to cheer me up, and though I couldn’t really feel very enthusiastic at the moment, I still appreciated the attempt.

“I almost forgot,” Marcus said, getting up and going to the fridge. He came back a few seconds later and set a brown glass bottle in front of me. It was a bottle of Black Cauldron, a locally brewed root beer that I really liked.

“Thank you,” I told Marcus, smiling faintly. He really was going out of his way to try making me feel better.

But as I reached for the bottle, I saw my hand and froze. My skin was pure white, like chalk or fresh snow, the exact same color that my grandmother’s had been. I winced at the sight and the reminder of what was happening to me, though it was hardly a surprise. My skin had been like this for several hours now. After a moment, I scowled and continued eating.

As we ate dinner, I silently cursed my hair, which had grown much longer than what I was used to and kept falling into my face. Between that and seeing my skin, it was hard to focus on the food, though I tried. Marcus kept glancing at me, while trying to appear as though he wasn’t, but it was obvious that he was a bit startled by my changing appearance as well.

Once we’d finished eating, I stared at the leftover pizza, thinking that my dad would have been happy to eat the rest of it, because he loved Mama Carlotti’s pizza too. Paige and my mom…not so much. These thoughts just depressed me, and I suddenly wondered how long it would be before I could eat pizza without being reminded of my dad.

Just then, I noticed that Marcus was staring at me with a worried expression. As soon as he saw me looking back at him, he announced, “I’ve been thinking…”

If Marcus had said that last week, I might have joked, “Did it hurt?” However, I wasn’t really in a joking mood and I had a hard time imagining that I ever would be again, so I simply responded, “Okay.”

“You aren’t safe here,” Marcus stated, catching me by surprise. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly getting worried.

Marcus was silent for a moment, then he explained, “Whoever ordered the hit, they went through a lot of trouble to take out the Lady and all of her heirs. If they find out that you’re her successor, then they might target you.”

“What?” I gasped in surprise, followed immediately by fear. I glanced nervously towards the door.

“The truth is, you’re in a great deal of danger,” Marcus continued in a grim tone. “And not just from whoever hired the Messenger. When you inherited your grandmother’s power, you also inherited a lot of her enemies. In fact, there are probably a lot of people who’d jump at the chance to take you out, just to hurt the Family.”

I gasped at that, my eyes going wide. “But I didn’t do anything…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Marcus told me with a shake of his head. “No matter what you do now, some people are going to see you as a threat…or a potential threat. It comes with the territory. And a lot of them will want to take you out while you’re young and inexperienced. While you’re still an easy target.”

All I could do was stare at Marcus with my mouth dropped open, gaping like an idiot as I absorbed his words. It seemed that every time I thought that things couldn’t get any worse…they did. “But,” I started to protest weakly. However, I was smart enough to realize that my protests wouldn’t mean anything. After all, I’d grown up in a family that frequently had to use a bodyguard for protection. I wasn’t a stranger to the idea that my family might be targeted, just to the idea that I myself would be considered important enough to bother with.

Marcus gave me a sad look. “I know this isn’t easy to hear, Bryan, but you can’t take your safety for granted anymore. You can’t afford to.” I nodded weakly, knowing he was right. Then he gave me what was intended to be a reassuring smile. “But don’t worry. Keeping you safe is my highest priority.”

I nodded at that, having no doubt that Marcus would do everything he could to keep me safe. I actually felt a little reassured by that, though I was still pretty shaken.

“The first thing we’ve got to do is get you out of here and somewhere a little safer,” Marcus said as he got up.

“My…my mom had wards around our house,” I pointed out, though I had no idea if the wards would still be working with her dead.

Marcus shook his head at that. “Not safe enough.” He paused for a moment, then mused, “Normally, I’d say that the Lady’s mansion would be our safest bet. I mean, the place is damn near a fortress…” Then he paused again, and from the dark look that passed over his face, he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time we were there. “Unfortunately, she took down some of the defenses for the party…and then that Messenger bastard walked right through the rest as though they weren’t even there.”

I stared at Marcus, shuddering at the idea of going back to grandmother’s house. After that massacre, I didn’t think I could bring myself to ever go back there, much less feel safe. “Then where?”

Marcus was silent for a moment, then he gave me a faint smile. “The Lady…your grandmother had a safe house set up for herself, in case of an emergency. The only people who know where it is are the Loyal…and probably Tessa. That should be the perfect place to lay low and keep you safe.”

Normally, finding out about a secret hideout that almost no one knew about, would have filled me with curiosity and excitement. But now, I just felt tired, and perhaps a vague sense of hope that I’d be safe there.

As soon as we were finished with this conversation, Marcus put the leftover pizza away and then we began packing up a few things to take with us. It was pretty quick and easy for me since I didn’t have much, just a single box of clothing. Marcus, on the other hand, came out with a great big duffel bag, one which rattled a bit when he moved. I knew the Loyal bodyguard well enough to guess that it was probably filled with weapons.

“You’ll need to avoid drawing attention,” Marcus told me, right before he handed me a jacket with a hood. It was the middle of July, and way too warm outside to wear something like this, but I understood his reasoning. The long sleeves and hood would hide my white skin and hair, so I reluctantly put it on.

A minute later, Marcus and I climbed into his car, a dark blue sedan, and began driving around. I wasn’t sure where we were going, because Marcus didn’t say anything. He just kept looking into the mirrors and turning down different streets at random. I’d seen him do this routine before, when he was chauffeuring my family to a meeting, so I knew that he was keeping an eye out to see if anyone was following us, and trying to lose them if they were.

Eventually, we pulled into a parking garage, then quickly changed cars before continuing on our way. After this, Marcus seemed to relax just a little. “Things are going to change a great deal for you,” he told me, though he didn’t take his eyes from the road. Then he grimaced slightly before adding, “Even more than they already have.”

“I guessed as much,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice calm and even, though I’m sure it shook a little anyway.

Marcus turned to glance at me, giving me a steady look before saying. “You’ll need to learn how to watch your back and keep your guard up at all times, and not just from your enemies. You’re going to suddenly have a lot of new friends too, but they won’t all be as friendly as they seem.”

I nodded at that, understanding exactly what he meant. Though I’d never been a direct part of it, I was fully aware of Family politics, usually from listening in as my mom talked about them. I’d seen a little of the political maneuvering, and the brown-nosing in order to earn my grandmother’s favor. In fact, I’d even seen people kiss up to Paige and my mom, to a much lesser degree. However, it was hard to imagine that anyone would ever do that to me, especially since I’d spent most of my life being ignored.

Marcus glanced at me again, giving me an odd look, though he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he let me absorb what he’d already told me as we drove the rest of the way in silence. We arrived at our destination a short time later, a small house that blended in with all the neighboring houses. It looked like a nice quiet neighborhood, not the sort of place you’d expect to find the infamous White Lady, which was probably why my grandmother had picked it.

Marcus pulled up in the driveway and parked right in front of the house. There was an attached garage, but it was closed and I assumed from where we’d parked, that Marcus didn’t have a remote for it. As he got out of the car, he announced, “You’ll be safe here.” He glanced towards the house across the quiet seeming street and added, “There’s a retired superhero who lives there and keeps an eye on the place.”

“A superhero?” I asked in surprise.

“He and the Lady had an understanding,” Marcus responded with a faint chuckle. “She funded his retirement and paid for his grandkids to go to college, and he just makes sure the neighborhood stays nice and quiet, which he probably would have done anyway.”

“That…makes sense,” I said, looking across the street and wondering who the hero was…or had been. Considering the fact that my family was involved in some less than legal activities, I’d made a point of keeping up with who the local heroes were.

Marcus nodded at that, looking sad as he commented, “Your grandmother was pretty good at making those kind of arrangements.”

Just then, a flicker of movement drew my eye towards the front door, and to the large white raven that was perched on the overhang above it. Lenore fluttered her wings and let out a loud ‘caw’ before she fixed her attention on me, staring with a strange intensity and awareness that I never would have expected from a bird. After several long seconds, she ruffled her feathers, shook herself, let out another loud ‘caw’, and then flew off.

Though I didn’t want to admit it to Marcus, I was actually a bit spooked to not only find Lenore already here, but also by her strange behavior. I felt a faint chill run down my spine as I realized that I hadn’t seen her since the other night, nor had I given her any thought. I took a moment to look in the direction she’d flown off in, then I shook my head and started for the door so we could get inside.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Monday morning, July 25th, 2016

Sanctuary had been my ideal bedroom, larger than what any of my friends had and decorated to suit my personal tastes. My current bedroom was no Sanctuary, but I had to admit, it was very nice.

The master bedroom was more than twice the size of Sanctuary, and it was tastefully decorated with a lot of antique furniture, which included a beautiful desk that took up one corner, an intricately carved wardrobe, and of course, a king sized bed that had been incredibly comfortable to sleep in. Off to one side there was a walk in closet, filled with clothing that my grandmother had left behind, and I even had my own personal bathroom.

When we’d arrived last night, Marcus had insisted that I take the master bedroom, which had seemed strange to me since he was the adult and I was just a teenager. However, he’d reminded me that as my grandmother’s successor, this was now MY home. That had been a bit of a surprise, though actually one of the easier ones to swallow.

The rest of the house was pretty nice too, even though it was only about half the size of the one I had lived in until very recently. There were three bedrooms, including the master bedroom, two bathrooms, and a decent sized living room and kitchen. And though there was a basement as well, the door was locked so I had yet to see what was down there.

At the moment, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, having just woken up a few minutes ago. I hadn’t actually slept very well, but that was due more to the nightmares than the unfamiliar bed. And though I felt tired, it was more of an emotional tired than physical.

I stared down at my hands, at my pure white skin and the strange rune mark that now decorated the back of the right one. My fingers looked different, a little longer and more delicate, and I was sure that this wasn’t just my imagination. Last night, I’d noticed other changes occurring to my body besides the pigmentation and growing hair, though they hadn’t really been noticeable enough to be sure. However, this morning, my body had definitely changed more, enough so that now there was no doubt I was still changing.

When I finally climbed the rest of the way out of bed, my hair fell into my face and I had to brush it out of the way. It was an annoyance, and I made a mental note to get it cut short again, though I wasn’t sure if that would do any good. Since my hair had grown due to magic, it might very well just grow right back again.

I staggered into the private bathroom, immediately going to the sink and splashing some cold water on my face in order to help me wake up. A few seconds later, I looked up into the mirror above the sink and stared into a reflection that was not my own. I had pure white skin, pale silvery eyes, and long white hair, all of which I’d expected to see. But last night before I’d gone to bed, I’d noticed that my reflection not only looked freakishly pale…but also a bit feminine. Now, that impression had definitely become more pronounced. The face staring back at me looked like that of a girl.

After staring at my reflection for several long seconds, I looked down at my chest, which had become a bit swollen, with soft puffy flesh that was starting to form on each side. I’d already noticed this upon waking, but now that I saw my face, it put the swelling into perspective. I was growing breasts.

The mirror above the sink wasn’t the only one available to me. I’d noticed an old fashioned, and probably antique, standing mirror in the bedroom. I used that one to get a better look at the overall picture. My whole body had subtly changed, making me look extremely androgynous, though with my face and the newly developing breasts, it definitely leaned towards the feminine side.

“Only a woman of the correct bloodline can inherit her power,” I whispered, repeating a simple fact that I’d known for most of my life. I gulped at the realization that I wasn’t really as much of an exception as I’d thought. By this point, I was so tired of being shocked and horrified that I almost felt numb to discovering this latest addition to the nightmare that my life had become.

I was vaguely relieved to note that in spite of my changed appearance, Little Bryan and the boys were still there. Unfortunately, I had no idea of how long that would remain true.

As I stood there, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t taken a shower since before all this had happened…since before the party. The fog of grief thickened in my soul at this reminder of what had happened to my parents, though I was too emotionally drained to really start crying again. Instead, I staggered back into the bathroom and climbed into the shower, trying to ignore the changes in my body as I mechanically washed myself, almost as though I was on auto-pilot.

Once I was finished with my shower, I discovered the joys of having long and soaking wet hair. My hair now ran down to my shoulder blades and seemed to hold water like a sponge. Even after squeezing it out in the tub and then running the towel over it, it remained a wet and heavy mess. The growing frustration of dealing with it was enough to even cut through the emotional fog.

Eventually, I got dressed, though my clothes didn’t quite fit right, which was a clear reminder of how my body was changing. Still, I tried not to dwell on that as I finally left the bedroom in order to find something to eat. However, when I reached the kitchen, I was surprised to find Tessa was there, making breakfast.

“Good morning,” Tessa greeted me, giving me a momentary look of surprise which she immediately covered up. “We have much to discuss, and I have much to teach you, but I think that can wait until after breakfast.”

Tessa continued with what she was doing, though she kept giving me quick glances, obviously taking in just how much I’d changed since yesterday. However, she avoided either staring or saying anything, probably because that would be rude. And as my grandmother’s personal assistant for so many years, Tessa had a lot of experience in being polite.

A short time later, Tessa served breakfast, which consisted of crepes that she’d stuffed with a mixture of spinach, cheese, and chicken. They were absolutely delicious, and I actually felt a little guilty for enjoying breakfast. Marcus had appeared at the same time the food was ready, so the three of us all ate at the table, though no one really said anything.

Finally, once we’d finished eating, Marcus gave me a steady look and frowned slightly. “It seems,” he said carefully, glancing to Tessa and then back to me, “that you aren’t going to be the first White Lord.”

I winced slightly at those words, even though my changes were clearly the elephant in the room. Until now, I’d been a bit numb to my latest changes, though having them pointed out to me that way somehow made it all feel more real…and more awkward. I squirmed self-consciously in my seat.

“No,” I said quietly, unable to look Marcus or Tessa in the eyes.

“If you would, please take care of the dishes,” Tessa told Marcus, giving him a faint look of disapproval. “I believe that it is time for Bryan and I to have our discussion.”

“Sure thing,” Marcus said, getting up and grabbing the dishes.

While Marcus was doing that, Tessa and I went to the living room and sat down. I was nervous and self-conscious, and though a large part of me wanted to run back into the bedroom and lock the door behind me, I also had a lot of questions and Tessa was here to answer them.

“I know that this is probably quite overwhelming for you,” Tessa told me with a sympathetic expression. “And though I wish I could give you more time to acclimate to your situation, time is of the essence. Your life and the existence of the Family will both depend on what we discuss.”

I gulped at that, then gave her a weak smile. “No pressure or anything.”

“No pressure,” Tessa agreed with a faint smile. Then her expression turned completely serious again and she said, “To start with, your grandmother was a very practical woman. She knew that she had many enemies and had long since made plans for the event of her own death, even though she was not certain as to who her successor would be. In her will, she states that approximately half her assets are to be dispersed to Family accounts and a number of specified individuals. Her successor is to inherit everything that remains.”

I gasped at that, staring at Tessa in surprise. Though I’d somehow inherited Grandmother’s power, I hadn’t realized that she’d leave me her money as well. Until now, I hadn’t really thought about what would happen to her money, and had just assumed it would go to Uncle Andre or be absorbed by the Family. I blinked, not sure what to think about this.

“However, as you are still a minor,” Tessa continued, “you will not have access to most of these funds until you come of age. A limited fund has been established to pay your expenses, and a guardian will be assigned to manage it for you until you reach the age of eighteen.” Then Tessa paused, giving me another sympathetic look. “I’ve taken the liberty of looking at your parents’ will as well, and it seems that you are their sole beneficiary.” I just nodded numbly at that, but Tessa wasn’t finished. “A Family lawyer will take care of the details for now.”

Tessa paused again, giving me a minute to absorb everything she’d just told me. As it was, so many things had been hitting me, one after another, that I didn’t know what to think or feel. And every time I thought about it…really thought about it…I just wanted to curl up into a ball and start crying.

While we were sitting there, Tessa pulled out several crystals of different colors, the same ones she’d used to look me over yesterday. “Do you mind if I examine you again?” When I gave my agreement, she looked at me through the crystals one at a time. Once she was finished, she said, “Admittedly, your latest changes are somewhat…surprising.”

“You’re telling me,” I grumbled.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” Tessa insisted, looking just a little confused. “Your family legacy never should have been able to go to you. You shouldn’t be able to hold the power…yet somehow you are.” She let out a sigh and shook her head faintly. After a few seconds of just sitting there with a thoughtful look, she told me, “You do understand that you haven’t just inherited your grandmother’s wealth and power. You’ve also inherited the mantle of the White Lady. And from the way your body is changing, it seems that you are becoming the White Lady in more than just title.”

I winced at that, but gave a faint nod. “I…I know.” I held up my hand, staring at the white skin and the rune on the back of it. How could I not know?

“Whether you like it or not,” Tessa continued, “you are now the sixth White Lady. This means that you have become VERY important to the Family. The Family cannot survive without you, and because of that, certain things are going to be expected. You need to understand your role, as well as the duties and expectations that come with it.”

I gulped, feeling like a lump of lead had just settled into my stomach. I hadn’t wanted to join the family business because I didn’t want to be a criminal, but now it looked like I wouldn’t have much choice. Thanks to this strange power I’d inherited from my grandmother, my entire future was being planned out for me. I felt trapped.

“Unfortunately,” Tessa told me, not seeming to notice that I was frozen like a deer in the headlights, “you have never received any of the training and preparation that the other heirs were given.”

“Unfortunate,” I mumbled, thinking that this was an enormous understatement.

There wasn’t anything fortunate about my life anymore. Well, I guess most people would probably think that suddenly becoming wealthy and gaining some kind of magic power was really good, but at the moment, neither felt real. In fact, they felt more like complications and problems than anything else.

I stared at Tessa and gulped. “I…I’m supposed to run the Family?” The idea seemed absolutely ludicrous. I wasn’t even old enough to have a driver’s license, so I certainly wasn’t qualified to run the Family.

“Not immediately,” Tessa quickly assured me, giving me another faint smile. “As with your financial inheritance, your position will be on hold until you reach eighteen. Until then, you will choose a regent to speak to the Family on your behalf. In this one way, your age will actually be a benefit to you. You’ll have time before you have to assume your full responsibilities.”

“But for just about everything else,” Marcus added as he came into the living room, “your age will be a major disadvantage. Everyone will see you as weak and vulnerable, and that is the absolute last thing you want your enemies to think.”

With that, Marcus set a glass full of brown liquid on the coffee table in front of me. I picked it up and took a cautious sniff, realizing a moment later that it was root beer. I took a sip and was pleased to note that it wasn’t just any root beer, but Black Cauldron root beer.

“I fear that Marcus is correct,” Tessa told me with a frown. “Your age, real gender, and lack of experience, will all be seen as weaknesses…and not just by your enemies. This will make it difficult to build trust and support within the Family as well.” Tessa paused again, giving me another thoughtful look before adding, “This is where those expectations become important…”

With that, Tessa began to give me a long lecture on what was going to be expected of me as the White Lady, and how I could use those expectations to my benefit. For almost an hour, she talked about image and how I could control mine in order to project the appearance of being confident and in control, how doing this could make things easier not only for me, but also for the Family. By the time Tessa was finished, I realized that her entire speech came down to the idea that if I dressed and behaved the way people expected of the White Lady, then they’d assume I had the power and control of that position as well.

I sat there through the entire speech, feeling an odd mixture of emotional numbness and dread. There must have been something of a dazed look on my face, because Tessa gave me a gentle smile and said, “I know this is a lot to learn, and that it won’t be easy for you, but it is necessary…and absolutely vital that you learn as quickly as possible. Your life may very well depend on how well you can keep people from seeing you as an easy target.”

Marcus had been quiet for most of Tessa’s lecture, leaving the room for large parts of it. However, he’d come back a couple minutes ago and nodded agreement. “Whatever you do, you don’t want your enemies to see any weakness. They might take it as an invitation.”

“And not only your enemies,” Tessa added grimly.

“I…I think I understand,” I responded quietly.

I absently reached up to lift my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose, only to pause as I remembered that I wasn’t wearing any glasses. I didn’t need them anymore. I mentally added that to the ‘plus’ column about my situation. The ‘negative’ column was MUCH longer.

I frowned, having noticed that during the entire lecture, Marcus and Tessa had both simply assumed that I’d be the White LADY…that my becoming a woman was set in stone and inescapable. In fact, they were both starting to act as though I already was. And admittedly, I knew that they were right.

About a year ago, I’d overheard Grandmother talking with Aunt Clarice and Nicolette, and she’d said that once someone inherited her power, they could not simply abdicate and pass it on to the next in line. Once the power went to her successor, it would bond to her, becoming a permanent part of her being for the rest of her life, however long that ended up being. Whether I liked it or not, there was no going back. However, understanding this intellectually and accepting it emotionally were two different things.

“The Loyal and other guards will protect you with their lives,” Tessa told me while Marcus nodded agreement. Neither needed to point out that sometimes that wouldn’t be enough. I’d seen that with my own eyes. “But you need to learn how to defend yourself…to use the powers you have inherited.”

“Magic,” I stated, feeling a faint chill run down my spine.

“Correct,” Tessa responded with a faint smile.

My mom was…had been a practitioner, and though she never did anything flashy or impressive, she’d never tried to hide her magic from me either. There were numerous times when I watched her cast spells around the house, usually to improve our home security in one way or another, and I’d always been curious about how it all worked. When Mom had begun teaching Paige, I’d been jealous of that, of the fact that my little sister was learning magic while I would never be allowed to do so. After all, the Family didn’t teach men how to do magic…only women.

Grandmother only took female apprentices, and her Hands followed her example, though it hadn’t always been that way. Long ago, back when Uncle Andre had been a boy, Grandmother had taught a couple men as well. But unfortunately, they had problems taking orders from a woman, and once they thought they were powerful enough, they’d tried to take over the Family. That hadn’t worked out very well for them, and afterwards, Grandmother had decided not to teach magic to men anymore.

“You’re going to teach me magic?” I asked, feeling a stirring of excitement at that.

“What I can,” Tessa agreed, apparently noticing my slightly improved mood because she seemed faintly amused. “Your family legacy is magical, though I don’t know how all your powers will work. The Lady only shared this information with her heirs…with her other heirs, so I will teach you what I know of magic and how it works, but you will have to discover the rest for yourself.”

I nodded at that, staring down at the back of my hand and the symbol that was now a permanent part of my skin. Then I frowned, thinking about the powers I’d supposedly inherited, though so far, I hadn’t noticed any powers, only these freaky changes in my body.

“Do you know what essence is?” Tessa abruptly asked me.

I hesitated a moment, not wanting to admit that I’d listened in on a couple of the lessons that Mom gave Paige. “It’s...magical energy,” I answered awkwardly, hoping that I didn’t embarrass myself too much. “I once heard Mom say that essence is sort of like fuel for magic spells…”

“That is better than I was expecting,” Tessa admitted with a faint smile. “One of your grandmother’s abilities was to gather essence more quickly and easily than any Hand. This meant that she had more essence to work with, and could therefore, perform greater acts of magic.” She paused for a moment, her expression turning dark again. “She shared this extra essence with her Hands, allowing us to use it when we performed our duties for the Family.”

I stared at Tessa, suddenly understanding why the White Lady was so important for the family. It wasn’t just that my grandmother had been the leader of the Family, she’d also been the source of the magical energy that the Hands used. Without the White Lady to provide them essence, all of the Hands were weaker, hence the whole Family was weaker.

Tessa was oblivious to my realization and continued her explanation. “You are already drawing essence, just as the Lady used to do. For now, this essence is being used to fuel your transformation, but when that is complete, you should have access to the essence you draw. That means, you must learn how to hold your essence so as not to lose it…”

With that, Tessa began my first lesson in magic, which was similar to some of what I’d overheard Mom teaching Paige. Instead of teaching me how to cast spells, Tessa spent several hours lecturing me on how essence and magic really worked, which was followed by hours more working on meditation exercises.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Tuesday July 26th, 2016

I was leaning back in a comfortable chair, with my Darius Shepard book in hand, and a glass of my favorite root beer sitting beside me. Normally, this would sound like the ideal situation and a great way to relax, though I certainly didn’t feel relaxed at the moment. I’d read the same page three times now, and I still couldn’t remember a single thing it said. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t relax, even though I’d never needed the distraction of a good book more.

My whole body…my whole life had changed in ways that I never would have imagined possible for me, and every time I saw my own hands and their unnaturally pale color, I was reminded of this fact. Of course, my entire body served as a reminder, as did nearly every movement I made.

By the time I woke up this morning, most of my body had finished changing. When I looked in the mirror, I no longer looked androgynous at all. I looked like a girl, with small B cup breasts, a slender waist, and a lithe build that made me think I looked like I could be a dancer. There was no way that anyone who saw me would ever think that I was a boy.

Of course, I barely even qualified as still being a boy, and I wouldn’t even have that for much longer. Little Bryan was still there, but barely, and the boys had disappeared entirely. At the rate I’d been changing, I had little doubt that I’d be fully female by dinner.

And though it made me feel extremely self-conscious, I was even wearing girl clothes now. Yesterday, my own clothes had become increasingly uncomfortable and ill fitting, so when Tessa had arrived this morning for my lessons, she’d brought a bunch of new clothes with her. These were clothes that she thought would be more appropriate to my new body and station, and as much as I wanted to argue, I couldn’t because I knew she was right.

“At least it isn’t a dress,” I muttered, looking down over the slacks and blouse I was wearing. They were definitely girl clothes, though they looked semi-professional rather than cute or sexy. I could live with that.

My thoughts turned to all the clothes that my grandmother had left in the walk in closet, though none of them would do me any good. For one thing, Grandmother’s style was old fashioned, lending itself to dresses and the kind of clothes that I imagined Hollywood starlets might have worn, decades before I’d been born. And for another thing, her clothes didn’t actually fit me. I might resemble my grandmother a great deal now, but I certainly wasn’t an exact copy.

After reading over the same page for the fourth time, I finally closed my book and set it aside, realizing that it was pointless to try reading right now. Since I couldn’t focus on reading, I closed my eyes and ran through some of the mental exercises that Tessa had been teaching me. Supposedly, once my powers kicked in, these exercises would help me to control whatever essence I gathered. I’d spent half the morning practicing them with Tessa, and the other half learning things about the Family that I hadn’t known, as well as where I was supposed to fit in.

About an hour ago, Tessa had finally ended the lessons, at least for the moment, saying that she had some other business to take care of but that she’d be back sometime this afternoon in order to continue. Though I was grateful for the opportunity to relax and read, or at least try to, I realized that at the same time, I also wished we could get back to the lessons. If nothing else, Tessa kept me too busy to worry much about everything that was happening.

I ran through the mental exercises several times, then I opened my eyes, took a long drink of root beer, and got up. Marcus was sitting on the couch, loading bullets into a clip while occasionally glancing out the window. He looked at me with an unreadable expression before giving a faint nod. I nodded back, then went back to the bathroom.

When I pulled down my pants in order to relieve myself, a knot of dread formed in my stomach at what I found. Little Bryan was almost entirely gone, and my new plumbing was nearly formed, at least on the outside. I reluctantly sat down to pee, though I was shaking the entire time. It was almost done. In just an hour or two at most, I’d be a girl. I almost felt sick to my stomach at the realization. I’d known it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier.

As soon as I was finished, I pulled my pants back up, trying not to think of my new parts and how wrong everything was. But when I washed my hands and looked into the mirror above the sink, an eerie looking girl stared back, almost mocking me with my fate. I’d lost my family. I’d lost any choice in my own future. And now, I’d lost my own body. A boiling mass of fear and confusion swirled around inside me, but it was rage that momentarily bubbled to the surface.

“NO,” I snarled as I punched the mirror. The sharp explosion of pain through my hand snapped me out of my anger, making me let out a loud cry. “No…”

My hand hurt like hell, and though I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d broken any bones, I’d obviously cut myself. Crimson blood leaking out of several cuts across my knuckles, standing out even more clearly against my white skin. I just stared at my hand for a moment, feeling ashamed for behaving like that. Tessa had just spent half the morning telling me that I couldn’t do afford to do anything that might make me look weak or not in control. Like what I’d just done.

Suddenly, Marcus burst through the door with his gun drawn. His eyes instantly swept the room and settled on me. I winced and cringed down, quietly saying, “I had an accident…”

Marcus glanced to the mirror and then my hand, grimacing a little as he did so. “I see.” Then he gave me a sympathetic look and reached for my hand. “Let’s get this cleaned up…”

After washing the blood off my hand, I was surprised to see that the cuts had not only stopped bleeding, but they were closing up and vanishing as I watched. Marcus didn’t say a word about the cuts or how they were healing, though I noticed that he didn’t seem surprised by this. Unfortunately, the rest of the pain in my hand didn’t vanish quite as quickly, but it didn’t hurt quite as much either.

“I can’t say that I have any idea of what you’re going through,” Marcus finally said, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. “What I do know is that sometimes life throws us curveballs…”

“Or smacks you in the face with a baseball bat,” I muttered bitterly.

Marcus gave me a wry smile and continued, “You can’t always control where fate leads you, only how you choose to deal with it.”

I scowled and gave Marcus a flat look, wondering if he got that off a fortune cookie or something. However, I knew he was just trying to help, and I appreciated that. Just like I appreciated the fact that he was here at all. After everything that happened, and after everyone I’d lost, I wasn’t going to take that for granted.

For a brief second, I thought we were going to have one of those touching moments where we ended up hugging, but Marcus just flashed me a grin, gave me a gentle punch on the shoulder, and said, “Next time you need to blow off some steam, let me know and we’ll find a healthier way to do it. Maybe the shooting range.”

“Okay,” I agreed, staring down at my still aching hand.

We went back to the living room, and the moment I stepped out of the hallway, I heard a loud ‘caw caw’. My eyes immediately shot to the white raven that was standing on the coffee table and staring straight at me.

“How did you get in here?” I asked in surprise since all the doors and windows were closed and locked.

Lenore didn’t answer, nor had I really expected that she would. Instead, she ruffled her feathers, then bent forward and used her beak to poke at a book that was sitting on the table in front of her. She looked up at me before poking the book again. At that point, I realized that she was intentionally bringing the book to my intention. It was a large leather-bound book that had definitely not been there a short time ago.

“Did you bring this?” I asked Lenore.

She just stared at me intently. When I reached for the book, she backed up a little. And once I picked up the book, she nodded approval, let out another ‘caw’, then flapped her wings and leapt into the air, flying straight at the front window…and through it as though it wasn’t even there. I stared at the window for several seconds in surprise, before shaking my head and turning my attention to the present she’d left me.

Marcus had just been standing back, watching without saying a word. However, once Lenore was gone, he gestured to the book and asked, “So, what did the bird bring you?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, curiously staring at the cover.

In the very center of the front cover, there was a complicated pattern embossed with silver metal, and then in a circle around this pattern, were a series of strange symbols which looked like they might be writing, though it certainly wasn’t any language I’d ever seen before. When I tried to open the book a moment later, I found that I couldn’t. It was as though all the pages were glued together.

“That’s useful,” I muttered, absenting wondering what Robert Langdon would do in this situation. Of course, as an expert in symbols, he’d study the markings on the front and try to solve the riddle, so I decided to try that.

I looked over the symbols again, this time studying them a little more intently until abruptly I felt something click inside of me. Suddenly, the symbols all made sense and I could understand them just as easily as if they’d been written in English. Written around the central pattern on the cover were the words ‘PLACE YOUR HAND HERE IN ORDER TO UNLOCK’.

“I…I can read this,” I said in a whisper.

With that, I did as the book instructed, placing my hand right on the strange pattern. I immediately felt a tingling along my palm, and a moment later, I was able to open the book without a problem. The pages inside were filled with the same strange language that had been on the cover, and I could read that just as easily. I just stared at the book in amazement, especially as I read the first page.

‘THIS IS THE JOURNAL OF THE WHITE LADY. MY SUCCESSOR, I KNOW NOT IF YOU HAVE BEEN PROPERLY PREPARED FOR THAT WHICH YOU HAVE INHERITED, OR IF IT HAS COME UNEXPECTED. IF YOU HAVE NOT, DO NOT FEAR, FOR THIS JOURNAL WAS WRITTEN FOR THAT VERY PURPOSE. THIS JOURNAL CONTAINS OUR HISTORY AND AN EXPLANATION OF OUR POWERS, THE GREATEST OF WHICH IS THE WRITTEN WORD. THESE PAGES ARE WRITTEN IN A LANGUAGE OF MY OWN CREATION AND IS KNOWN ONLY TO THOSE WHO INHERIT OUR POWERS, SO DO NOT SHARE THIS LANGUAGE WITH EVEN YOUR OWN HEIRS. KEEP THE BOOK SAFE, ADD TO IT WHEN NECESSARY, AND ENSURE IT IS PASSED TO YOUR SUCCESSOR.’ It was then signed, ‘ISABELLE DUBOIS, THE THIRD WHITE LADY’

“What is it?” Marcus asked curiously.

“I think it’s a how to book,” I told him as I gently flipped through the pages.

“A how too book?” Marcus repeated, giving me a curious look. “For what?”

I hesitated a moment, then gave Marcus a wry smile. “For how to be the White Lady.” His eyes widened at that. “It looks like a How to be the White Lady for Dummies.”

“You’re kidding me,” Marcus exclaimed, giving the book a skeptical look.

I shook my head, then sat back down into the comfortable chair, staring at the book with a mixture of curiosity, excitement, and nervousness. Ever since my body had begun to change, I’d been filled with questions, and there was no doubt that this book contained some of the answers. However, I was actually a little nervous about what I might find in the book as well.

After the introduction page came a short section that served as a translation key for the language that the book was written in, not that I really needed it since I could somehow understand the writing anyway. However, as I looked it over, I saw that it was mostly just the alphabet of the language, as well as a number of other symbols and their meanings, and the rules of how to use them. I didn’t need any of that in order to read the book, though the instructions seemed more geared towards teaching me how to write it.

Next came a section that immediately caught my full attention. This was the history of my family legacy and the origins of the power that I’d inherited. I read through the history three times, trying to make sure I didn’t miss a thing. It explained a great deal, though also provided a number of new questions, and I was so caught up in this that I almost forgot about how freaked out I was just a short time ago.

According to the book, my family legacy began with an old man, a scholar who spent his life studying magic and becoming a powerful sorcerer. But in the process of gaining this power, he’d made several enemies, and one of them attacked the old man’s home while he was gone, killing his apprentice and servants. There was only one survivor, a little girl named Roselle, who was the daughter of two of the servants.

Roselle was spared because she was just a kid, but apparently, that didn’t stop the attacker from putting a curse on her instead. It seemed that he wanted her to serve as a warning to the old man, so he cursed her to be deaf and mute. Afterwards, old man tried to cure her, but he couldn’t break the curse.

The old man felt responsible for Roselle, so he adopted the girl as his granddaughter and began to teach her. He started off with reading and writing so that she could communicate again, then moved on to other subjects. After a couple years, he became sick with something that his magic couldn’t cure, and decided that before he died, he wanted to ensure Roselle’s safety.

Shortly before his death, the old man cast a number of powerful spells on Roselle, ones that would help her, protect her, and give her the power to defend herself from his enemies. The spells worked, but they interacted with each other in ways that hadn’t been intended, resulting in the unexpected side effect of her skin and hair being bleached white. At the age of twelve, Roselle became the first White Lady.

“And I thought I got it young,” I muttered the first time I read that part.

One of the spells that the old man had cast on Roselle, to compensate for her curse, was a translation spell that let her read nearly any language. As soon as I read that, I immediately realized that this was how I was able to understand the strange language that the book was written in. Apparently, after the old man died, Roselle had used this ability to continue her education, reading many of the books in the old man’s collection, especially the ones involving magic. She couldn’t recite spells like he did, but she learned that there were other types of magic she could use, such as rune magic.

Roselle became a powerful magic user herself, specializing in runes and glyphs, spells that involved symbols and writing rather than being spoken. And eventually, she made plans to pass her power down to her own successors once she was gone. Most of her powers were due to the spells the old man had cast on her, ones she could not duplicate, and which would vanish when she died. Of course, Roselle found a way around this. Using her own magic, she bound herself with even more spells, permanently tying them all together.

According to Isabelle, my ancestor who wrote the book, by fusing the spells together and passing them down, the magic began to change and become something quite different than the collection of spells it had begun as. Even she didn’t know quite what the magic had become, though she did note that Roselle’s curse had been caught up in the mix, or at least a shadow of it had been.

‘THOUGH WE CAN SPEAK AND HEAR,’ Isabelle wrote, ‘WE ARE DEAF AND MUTE TO MAGIC, NO MORE CAPABLE OF SPEAKING A SPELL THAN ROSELLE HAD BEEN.’

After this, I started reading the next section of the book, which also captured my full attention. This was a list of the ‘gifts’ that the old sorcerer had given Roselle, and which I had just inherited. I was amazed as I read through the list, though I was only halfway through it when Tessa returned to continue my lessons.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Wednesday July 27th, 2016

I sat at the dining room table, with a half dozen books spread out in front of me. One of them was written entirely in Spanish, but after staring at the writing for just a second, it came clear to me and I was able to read it with ease. The same was true for the books in Russian, German, Sanskrit and Chinese. One of the books was written in some language that I’d never even seen before, and had absolutely no ideas of the origins, but I was able to read that one as well.

“The Lady…the former Lady could read just about any language,” Tessa commented, watching me with a curious expression, “but I’d always thought this was a learned skill, not one of her powers…” Then she abruptly began saying something to me in Spanish. And though I could recognize what language it was, I had absolutely no idea what she was saying. She seemed to notice the blank look on my face and nodded to herself. “So, you can read the language, but not understand it when spoken…”

I nodded at that, having already figured a little of this out last night. Just because this translation ability let me read any language, that didn’t mean I suddenly knew how to write in that language. It wasn’t really any surprise that it didn’t extend to the spoken language, especially considering the ‘curse’ that supposedly made deaf and mute to magic.

Last night, I’d spent a great deal of time reading through the book that Lenore had brought me, trying to make sense of what I’d become. One of the parts that I’d studied the hardest had been the one that described all the ‘gifts’ the old sorcerer had given Roselle, and which had been passed down to me. The ability to read just about any language was one of those gifts, and would probably be a very useful one, though it wasn’t the most impressive…not that I’d actually tried those yet.

According to the book, five of the spells the old sorcerer had cast on Roselle, had been ones that would let her briefly call upon the power of the elements so that she could defend herself from threats. Back at the party, when I’d seen my grandmother sending waves of fire at the Messenger, I was pretty sure that this was what she’d been using. And though I had yet to try this myself, I could feel it inside of me, five mental switches that were just waiting to be flipped.

The other ‘gifts’ were less flashy and far more subtle, but apparently, no less impressive in their own way. Besides translation, there was also a powerful healing spell, which I’d already seen in action when I’d injured my hand. Within a minute of the injury, all of the cuts had completely vanished, and half an hour later, there had been no indication that I’d ever been hurt. Apparently, this was also responsible for my grandmother’s long life and extremely slow aging.

I realized now, that if my grandmother had been able to get away from the Messenger, she might have been able to heal from the wound he’d given her. She might have been able to survive, though she’d given up any chance of that in order to try killing the Messenger and his daughter. I just wished she’d been able to take the Messenger with her, because it sickened and even scared me to think about the fact that he was still walking around.

The final ‘gift’, which Tessa had been the most fascinated by when I told her, was a spell that gathered essence in order to recharge the other spells. According to Tessa, this essence was what I’d be tapping into in order to cast my magic spells, once I learned a little more control.

While I was considering this, Tessa let out a cough to get my attention and gave me a pointed look. It took a moment for me to realize that I was sitting with my legs spread apart, as I normally did, but which Tessa insisted was ‘unladylike’. For most of the morning, she’d been correcting my posture, the way I sat, and just about anything else, so that I’d come across as more feminine and ladylike. She tried to be gentle about the corrections, but the fact that she was doing it at all was patronizing, insulting, and as much as I hated to admit it…necessary.

Whether I liked it or not, I was now a girl…at least physically. And as much as I hated that fact, there was nothing I could do to change it. I didn’t even have the luxury of being a tomboy. Because I was the new White Lady, I had to present a certain image, and if I failed to do that…I would probably die. So as humiliating as it was, I went along with what Tessa was trying to teach me, because learning to be a girl was better than the alternative. So with that, I took a deep breath, closed my legs, and then sat up straight, trying to have a ‘ladylike’ posture. I felt like an idiot, but Tessa nodded faintly in approval.

Just then, Marcus came back into the room, checking in on us as he had been about every fifteen minutes since Tessa had arrived. I was pretty this was due to a mixture of boredom and curiosity. After all, babysitting me like he’d been doing couldn’t be very exciting.

Since Tessa and I were taking a bit of a break, Marcus asked her, “So, what’s the latest news?”

“With Charles gone,” Tessa answered carefully, glancing towards me since she was talking about my dad, “his assistant, Eric has stepped up to take over the finances. Andre is helping him out for now.”

“Good,” Marcus responded with a nod. “Did you talk to Andre about…?” He looked to me, leaving the words unspoken, though Tessa obviously knew what he was talking about.

“Yes,” Tessa told him, giving a sad smile as she did so. “He agreed.”

“What?” I asked suspiciously.

Marcus and Tessa shared a look, but it was Marcus who said, “Everyone knows that there’s a new White Lady, but so far, we’ve only told one other person who you are. Andre. The truth is, if everyone knew that you were the White Lady, they’d…” He paused, giving me an apologetic look.

“It would not go well,” Tessa admitted with a sigh. “It would be difficult enough getting the Family to accept a teenage girl as the White Lady, and we all knew that Nicolette or Paige might inherit. But for a boy…a former boy, who is both untrained and unprepared…”

I stared at Tessa for a moment before nodding my understanding. We’d already talked about this a couple days ago, about how important it was to present an image of confidence and power. That would be extremely hard to do, perhaps even impossible, once everyone learned who I really was. As soon as the word went out that I was the White Lady, the sharks would start circling.

“Marcus and I have discussed this,” Tessa carefully explained, “and we found a solution. One that will help protect you, and buy you the time you need to build your power and support.”

“How do we do that?” I asked, looking back and forth between Marcus and Tessa. From the way they were acting, I was pretty sure that plan of theirs was going to be something I wouldn’t like. Of course, I didn’t really like anything about this entire situation, so that was to be expected.

“We don’t tell anyone who you really are,” Marcus stated. “As far as everyone else is concerned, Bryan was shot during the attack and died of his injuries a couple days later. Instead, we tell everyone that back in the day, Andre had a bastard kid that no one knew about, and that you’re Andre’s granddaughter. Andre has agreed to go along with this and will confirm the story.”

Tessa nodded at that. “At the same time, I will notify the Family that the previous Lady knew of your existence, and that she was keeping you hidden as a secret heir.”

“That…that sounds like something Grandmother would do…would have done,” I responded. Tessa smiled faintly, obviously agreeing.

I was a bit surprised by the suggestion, and a little shaken. I’d already lost everything else, and now they were asking me to surrender the last of my own identity, that I pretend to be someone else entirely. There was barely anything of the old me left as it was. I clenched my fists, not sure what to say, or even if I could bring myself to speak if I did.

“This way,” Tessa continued in a gentle tone, obviously realizing that this was difficult for me, “you will be a mystery to Family and enemies alike. No one will know how much you may have been trained or what you are capable of. Most will not risk acting against you until they know more, which will give you time to build your power and enforce your position.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt,” Marcus pointed out gruffly. “The unknown encourages wariness, and we can use that.”

“The Family leaders are demanding to meet the new White Lady as soon as possible,” Tessa told me with a frown. “I’ve been holding them off so far, but we don’t have much longer. Perhaps only a few days. We will need to build your new identity before then.”

“I see,” I said quietly. My voice was shaking a little. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady as I added, “I guess I’ll need a new name.”

Tessa smiled faintly, apparently relieved that I’d agreed to go along with this. I didn’t want to change my name…to change my entire identity. However, I realized that I already had. Since I’d turned into a girl, I certainly couldn’t keep calling myself Bryan. I was going to have to get a new name anyway. In the end, I’d already lost so much of my old life that this was only a tiny bit more in comparison.

Marcus and Tessa began to discuss what we needed to do, making plans without bothering to really consult me. Since I didn’t know how to contribute, I just sat back and listened in, though I quickly got bored and my mind began to wander.

My eyes went to the books that I’d been testing my new translation abilities on, which led me to think about my other ‘gifts’, the ones I had yet to try out. The ones I was the most curious about where the elemental spells, which I could feel in my head, teasing me with just how easy they would be to activate. I mentally poked at one of them, then suddenly it activated.

“Uh oh,” I gasped, instantly realizing that I’d just made a big mistake.

An instant later, every one of my tattoo marks blazed to life with a silvery white glow, and to my surprise, a new one appeared on my right palm. When I stared at the new symbol, my power translated it the same as it had those books, and I knew that it meant ‘AIR’.

Suddenly, a hurricane seemed to erupt around me, with a powerful wind blowing all through the room. The books went flying off the table, as did nearly everything else nearby. Marcus and Tessa were both thrown back with yells of surprise, and then, just as quickly as winds had appeared…they vanished.

I just stood there for a moment, feeling shocked, horrified, and excited all at the same time. Then as I looked at the stunned Marcus and Tessa, confirming that they were all right, a single word slipped from my lips. “Ooops…”

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Thursday late morning, July 28th, 2016

I stepped into the living room, feeling self-conscious about how I looked and the feminine image I presented.

When Tessa had arrived at the safe house earlier this morning, she immediately began preparing me to meet the Family leadership, even though the meeting wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow. Tessa was going to present me to my grandmother’s lieutenants, the people who actually ran the day to day operations of the Family. And though I’d met most of them before, they would have no idea of who I had been, and it was imperative that I make a good ‘first’ impression. According to Marcus and Tessa, this would help determine whether they’d give me their support, or attempt to undermine me.

After spending several hours being lectured on what to expect and how I should behave, I entered into the next stage of my torment…a makeover. Tessa styled my hair a bit, making it look nicer, and then she put a little makeup on me. She kept the makeup light and subtle, but assured me that it made a difference and would help me appear a little older and more mature than I really was.

Next came the clothes, which were only a little nicer than what I’d been wearing yesterday. I had on a pair of slacks, a blouse, and a business type jacket over the top of it so that I looked very professional. The shoes had a slight heel to them, but no more than what a pair of cowboy boots had, so I didn’t have a problem walking in them. And of course, since I was being presented as the new White Lady, the entire outfit was completely white.

The moment I saw my reflection in the mirror, my mouth dropped open and I gaped, hardly able to believe that this was me. Sure, the color of my skin and hair still made me look a bit eerie, but I also looked beautiful, professional, and even a few years older than I actually was. This was the new White Lady that the Family was going to be introduced to.

In spite of the fact that I now looked perfect for the role I had to play, I didn’t feel all that pleased or excited. Instead, I just felt miserable. A stranger was staring back at me from the mirror, and I felt that unbelievably creepy. And even worse than that, my entire body just felt WRONG. Every movement I made seemed to remind me of that fact, and instead of trying to correct that wrongness, I was forced to accentuate it instead.

I wanted to run back into the bedroom and lock myself inside, but I knew I couldn’t do that. “Show no weakness,” I reminded myself, remembering what Marcus and Tessa had been teaching me. Tomorrow, I had to come off as being strong and confident, so I needed to practice looking that way now.

When I stepped into the living room, letting Marcus see me like this for the first time, Tessa stated, “Poise and confidence,” as a reminder for me to correct my posture and the way I moved. I didn’t say anything in response, though I did stand up straighter. A few seconds later, I sat down in a chair, careful to keep my legs closed the way I’d been taught.

“You look lovely,” Marcus said, giving me a faint bow. “My Lady.”

“Thank you,” I responded politely, trying to hide how uncomfortable I was at being treated like that…especially by Marcus.

“You do look quite lovely,” Tessa told me with an approving smile. “And as long as you are able to present yourself in this fashion, I believe the others will take you seriously.”

I nodded at that since the entire point of this act was so that people would take me seriously as the White Lady. If they knew who I really was, they’d dismiss me out of hand the way they always had before, but now… Now I was a mysterious young woman of unknown power, who they might see as being worthy of succeeding my grandmother. In this case, looks were definitely deceiving.

While Tessa gave me more advice on how to pull this off, Marcus got up and left the room. When he returned a minute later, it was with a glass of root beer for me.

“My Lady,” Marcus announced with a flourish as he presented me with the drink, smiling faintly as he did so.

“Thank you Jeeves,” I responded with a faint smile of my own. Two could play that game.

Marcus burst out laughing. “I’ve been called a jerk, an asshole, and a thug,” he told me with a broad grin. “And back when I had my stache, I’ve even been called Mario. But this is the first time anyone has ever called me Jeeves.”

Tessa watched this with an amused look, and once I’d had a drink of my root beer, she said, “Our meeting with the Family is tomorrow, but I would like you to continue working on your mannerisms until then. But for today, we do have an appointment for this afternoon as well, one that may help us understand how you were able to inherit your power.”

“Really?” I asked a little eagerly.

I stared at Tessa for a moment, almost hungry to have that question answered. After all, my grandmother had always insisted that only a woman of her bloodline could inherit the power once she was gone. And in the book Lenore had brought me, Isabelle had talked about the succession, confirming what my grandmother had always said. She went into some technical explanation, which all seemed to come down to the fact that when the old sorcerer had created the spells, they had been specifically designed to bond to a woman.

According to the book, the magic of the White Lady simply couldn’t bond to a man. It was impossible. Yet somehow, I’d inherited the power anyway. I felt a certain frustration and anger at the fact that, what was left of my life, had been destroyed by something that was supposed to be impossible.

“We have plenty of time before our meeting,” Tessa told me, giving me a thoughtful look. “For now, I think we can work on your magic. You still have a great deal of work to do on containing your essence, but you still have enough available that I think we can actually start on spells.”

“Really?” I asked, almost as excited about that as I was about the idea that I might finally get some answers.

“Yes,” Tessa told me, seemingly amused by my excitement. “But I think we should practice somewhere a little safer…”

Tessa looked to the dining room, which had been a total mess after I’d accidentally unleashed my power yesterday. I cringed slightly, more than a little embarrassed about that mistake. Fortunately, I already knew where we could practice instead. We’d discovered it last night, a few hours after the ‘incident’.

I stood up, only to have Tessa cough, a gentle reminder about my body language. I rolled my eyes in frustration, though I still tried to stay aware of my movements so that I could act the way someone would expect of the White Lady. It was a real pain in the butt, especially since I had to pay constant attention to how I moved, and it all felt so unnatural.

We went over to the basement door, which had not only been locked, but had also been magically sealed until last night. Apparently, my grandmother had put a magical lock on the door that worked the same way as the one on the book did. All I had to do was put my palm on the right spot, and the door opened.

The basement was a single large room with a concrete floor, though the concrete had been stained and polished so that it looked more like granite. A lot of symbols and complicated patterns had been drawn all over the floor, walls, and ceiling, and when I stared at them, I could understand what some of the symbols meant, but not how they all went together or what they did.

About a third of the basement had been set up as an office, with a desk and several book shelves. The rest of the space had been mostly empty.

“This is a magical safe room,” Tessa explained to me. “The entire house is heavily warded, but this room is on another level. As one of your grandmother’s Hands, my duties include placing and maintaining wards and protection spells on any properties owned by the Family, but the ones in this room are well beyond my skills.”

I looked around the room, taking in all the empty space and agreeing that it looked like the perfect place for me to practice my new powers. If I did end up doing something like what I had last night, there wasn’t much down here for me to accidentally destroy.

“Your grandmother specialized in runes and glyphs,” Tessa said, gesturing around the room at all the symbols that were painted everywhere. “And as you also have a number of glyphs on your skin, it seems that this would be an appropriate place to start.”

A minute later, we sat down at the desk, which had several runes carved into the surface. Tessa dug through the desk and found some blank sheets of paper, as well as a large collection of pens, pencils, chalk, and even some old fashioned quill pens. After a moment of consideration, she settled on a marker.

“There are many kinds of runes and glyphs,” Tessa said as she began the new lecture. “These may look like random symbols, but they are each part of a language, and each has its own meaning. If you understand these runes and how they work together, you can express complicated ideas or instructions.”

“Like the alphabet,” I commented, getting a look from Tessa that silently urged me to continue. “Each letter represents a sound, but if you know all the letters and how they work together, you can write a whole novel…”

Tessa nodded in approval. “Correct. But before you can write the works of Shakespeare, you need to know the alphabet and the rules, and that is where we are going to start.” She paused at that, then explained, “Writing only works because the writer and reader both understand what the symbols represent. Without this shared meaning, the letters are merely scratches on paper. The more who know these symbols and what they represent, the more power they possess.”

“The runes we will work with are ancient and have great power,” Tessa stated, giving me a flat look.

“But you just said that the more people understand the symbols, the more powerful they are,” I pointed out what I saw as a contradiction in what she’d just told me. “And I don’t think many people know what they mean anymore…”

Tessa smiled faintly, as if pleased that I’d brought up that point. “The power of these runes comes not in how many know them now, but in how they have been used since the history of their creation. They work due to the laws of precedence and similarity.”

Before I could ask what those laws were, Tessa began drawing a symbol onto the sheet of paper. Once she was finished, she held the paper out so that I could see the symbol.

“Fire,” I said, immediately seeing what the symbol meant.

“Very good,” Tessa told me. “I see that your translation gifts work with runes, which should give you a great advantage in learning them. It is no wonder your predecessors were masters of this magic.”

I squirmed a little self-consciously at that. “Thank you.”

“I think Elaine would be proud of you,” she started.

I winced at that, because I was sure that if my mom knew that I’d become the new White Lady, she wouldn’t have been proud of me. She probably would have blamed me for stealing Paige’s future from her, regardless of whether or not Paige was still around. I loved my mom, but I was under no illusions of where I stood in her priorities.

Tears started to form, but Tessa probably assumed that they were tears of happiness from the compliment. I wiped the tears away, trying hard just to keep from crying more.

“Right now,” Tessa continued with the lecture, “this glyph holds potential power, but it is dormant, waiting to be called forth. You do this by focusing on the meaning of the symbol and your intent while you charge it with essence.”

Tessa touched the symbol she’d drawn on the paper and a moment later, it suddenly burst into flames. Even though I’d been expecting this, I jumped back. For a moment, I feared that the whole desk would catch on fire, but the wood didn’t look the least bit charred. Obviously, the desk had been protected.

“This was a primary rune,” Tessa explained as she pulled out another sheet of paper and drew the same symbol. “According to your grandmother, what she called the primary runes were from one of the oldest written magical languages on Earth. They represent simple ideas and do not combine well, but they are powerful and good for a beginner.”

After this, Tessa asked me to duplicate what she’d done while demonstrating the fire rune. I sat there with a pen and piece of paper, carefully copying the symbol from the second one she’d drawn. However, when I was finished, something wasn’t right. When I looked at the symbol, it didn’t say ‘fire’ to me like the other one did. In fact, it didn’t say anything.

Tessa was watching me with a carefully controlled expression. “Are you going to charge the rune?”

I stared back at the rune for a moment more, knowing that I did something wrong, though I didn’t know what. After a few more seconds, I saw a faint mark on Tessa’s rune that I’d somehow missed on mine. As soon as I copied that mark, it suddenly said ‘fire’ to me.

“You corrected it,” Tessa said, looking rather pleased that I’d caught myself. “I was certain you’d miss that.”

“It seems I have a built in spell checker,” I commented as I reached to the rune I’d just drawn, carefully focusing on ‘fire’ while pushing some of my essence into it. A moment later, the rune burst into flame and I jumped up excitedly, exclaiming, “I did it…”

“Yes you did,” Tessa agreed proudly. “Your first spell.” She hesitated a moment, then admitted, “I studied under your grandmother for months before I reached that point.” Then she gestured to the stack of paper, giving me an almost evil look as she announced, “Now you will continue to practice this rune.”

Chicago, Il, Thursday afternoon, July 28th, 2016

I stared down at the sheet of paper in my hands, which had a single rune that had been copied on it almost a dozen times. I’d practiced this rune for a couple hours, first with the demonstration version that Tessa had provided, and then from memory. Our lessons had actually ended a short time ago, but I was killing time by practicing this rune a little more, making sure that I had it memorized.

“I’ll never need matches again,” I joked as I pushed just a little essence into one of the symbols. The rune burst into flame, which quickly spread to the rest of the paper. I was actually feeling pretty pleased with myself for mastering my first magic spell.

“Perhaps,” Tessa responded. “But essence is far too valuable to use on something you could simply do with a match.” Then she paused and admitted, “You have far more essence available than any of your Hands, but you do not want to get into the bad habit of wasting it.”

I nodded at that, feeling appropriately chastised. From what Tessa had told me previously, throwing magic around to do something you could easily do without it, was not only a waste of essence, but was also considered as showing off.

Just then, the doorbell began to ring. Marcus was instantly on his feet with a gun in hand. However, Tessa didn’t seem the least bit concerned, probably because all the wards around the house would have stopped most people from reaching the door, and most hostile intruders wouldn’t bother to ring the doorbell.

“It’s Dominic,” Marcus announced after he’d looked through the peep hole.

A moment later, Marcus opened the door, revealing a tall and athletic looking man with ginger hair. Dominic was one of the Loyal, and as such, he not only knew about the safe house, but could also be trusted completely.

“I would like to introduce you to Bianca St. Claire…the new White Lady,” Marcus told Dominic before gesturing to me.

I tried not to wince or look awkward as Marcus introduced me by my new name of Bianca. After all, that was the new name I’d picked, and it was one I’d have to get used to since it would be mine for the rest of my life.

Dominic stared at me for a moment before bowing. “My Lady. I am Dominic Cantrell, and I am at your service.”

I knew who Dominic was, though I’d never really talked to him before now. He’d always been distant and professional, too busy to waste time with a teenage boy. However, he didn’t know who I was, or at least, who I had been.

“Thank you,” I said with a forced smile, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious about my body and the way I was dressed. I was dressed up in order to look the part of the White Lady, so I tried to continue acting the part as well. “It is nice to meet you.”

“Dominic will guard the house while we’re away,” Marcus told me. “Another Loyal will be following us at a short distance, ready to jump in if we run into trouble.”

I frowned slightly, not liking the idea of having bodyguards watching me all the time since that kind of thing seemed pretentious and kind of paranoid. Then again, after what had happened last week, maybe it would be a good idea to have people watching my back, even if it hadn’t done a lot of good at the party. I shuddered at that thought, suddenly feeling even more nervous about leaving the safe house.

I glanced down at myself, feeling self-conscious since I was still wearing the nice white outfit that I was coming to think of as my new uniform. At that moment, I was announcing to the world that I was the White Lady, and I wasn’t ready to do that, or to even have everyone look at me as a girl. However, I silently reminded myself that I didn’t have much of a choice. The alternative was to present myself as being easy prey for my enemies.

A minute later, I stepped out of the house, then I hesitated a moment to glance around nervously. This was the first time I’d left the safe house since my transformation had finished, and I was almost afraid that someone would point at me and laugh.

When I looked around, the only other person I saw, besides my own small group, was an old man across the street. He looked to be in his late fifties, with short gray hair, and he was staring right at us. That caught me by surprise since there were spells around the house that were supposed to keep people from paying attention to it. Then again, this obviously wasn’t an ordinary old man.

Marcus had told me that a retired superhero lived across the street, so I wondered who this guy was, or at least, who he had been. From his age and build, a couple possibilities sprang to mind, though they were only guesses.

“His name is Arnold Bosk,” Marcus commented as he opened the car door for me. “He used to be Citizen X.”

I was a little startled at that since Citizen X hadn’t been one of my guesses as to his identity. Citizen X had disappeared from public view a long time ago, around the time I’d just been a toddler, so I didn’t know much about him other than that he’d been a solo hero who occasionally fought alongside the Crusaders.

Marcus said something about introducing me to Arnold when we had more time, right before he ushered me into the car. Right after we pulled out of the driveway, I noticed that there was another car behind us, just like I’d been warned. However, I couldn’t tell who was driving it.

We left Chicago and drove about twenty-five miles to Arlington Heights, where we finally pulled into a nice neighborhood. The house we stopped in front of looked to be about the same size as the one where I’d lived until last week, though I still had no idea about who lived there. Neither Marcus nor Tessa had really told me much about where we were going or who we had an appointment with.

“What are we doing here?” I asked as we got out of the car.

“We’re here to see a woman whom your grandmother had an arrangement with,” Tessa answered, looking towards the house with a frown. “I believe she may be able to answer some of our questions.” She hesitated a moment, then admitted, “Whether she will or not is another question.”

“But I thought we had an appointment,” I responded, feeling a little confused about why we’d come out here if we didn’t even know if this person would help us.

“We have an appointment to speak with her,” Tessa explained with a frown, “but we don’t know if she’ll be willing to help.”

That didn’t exactly answer any of my questions, but I tried to be patient. A minute later, we knocked on the front door, and it opened to reveal a dark haired woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, and who was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses so I couldn’t see her eyes.

“Come in,” the woman said, quickly ushering us inside, then looking around the outside as if trying to make sure none of her neighbors saw us arriving. Once she seemed satisfied, she closed the door and turned to look at me. “So, you are the new White Lady.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered carefully. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for me to call her ‘ma’am’ when I was in character, but I’d always been raised to be polite and that much seemed appropriate.

“Let me have a look at you,” the woman stated, removing her sunglasses and revealing a pair of glowing yellow eyes. She nodded slightly, then abruptly asked, “Would you care for some tea? Or would you prefer hot chocolate? My son is nearly your age, and he loves the cocoa.”

“Hot chocolate please,” I responded, then followed her to the living room where the rest of us had a seat before she rushed out of the room. She came back in mere seconds later, handing cups of tea to Marcus and Tessa, while giving me a cup of cocoa. She’d obviously had this all prepared ahead of time. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the woman said, giving me a faint smile before looking to Marcus and Tessa.

“Mrs. Merchell,” Tessa said carefully. “You had an arrangement with the previous White Lady. You came to the Lady for assistance, and she provided it in exchange for a cessation of hostilities and three favors to be named later.”

Mrs. Merchell took a sip of her tea, though she kept her golden eyes firmly fixed on Tessa. “There were conditions to those favors,” she pointed out calmly. “I would not assist with any criminal activities, do anything that I find morally questionable, or do anything that would endanger my family in any way. And as of this time, one of those favors has already been repaid.”

Tessa bowed her head faintly. “As you already know, the previous White Lady is no longer with us.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Merchell agreed before looking to me. “I am sorry for your loss. Your predecessor was an honorable woman, in her way.”

“Thank you,” I told her awkwardly, not sure what else I could say.

“As interesting as it is to meet the successor of my old nemesis,” Mrs. Merchell commented. “I believe that you came here for a reason.”

I stared at Mrs. Merchell, a bit surprised by her comments about being my grandmother’s nemesis, as well as confused. How did someone who considered my grandmother an enemy end up making this deal with her?

“Indeed,” Tessa agreed. “The new Lady has some questions that only you can answer.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Merchell responded wryly. “And why should I answer these questions?”

“By your own admission, you owed the previous Lady a debt,” Tessa answered. “Will you repay this debt for her heir?”

Mrs. Merchell paused at that and stared at me again, her eerie gold eyes making me a little uncomfortable. After several long seconds, she said, “Very well. I acknowledge my debt. Ask your questions. This will count as one of the two remaining favors.”

Tessa nodded to me, indicating that I should go ahead. I tried to steady myself so that I’d look and sound confident, the way I’d been taught. I was pretty sure that I didn’t really pull it off that well.

“I wasn’t supposed to inherit this power,” I said carefully, not wanting to give away too much. The last thing I wanted to do was to tell a complete stranger that I’d just gone through a sex change. “I wasn’t supposed to become the White Lady, and I want to know how it happened.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Merchell responded as she stood up. “As long as you have not warded yourself the way your predecessor had, I should be able to discover the answer.”

With that, Mrs. Merchell held out her hand and whistled a short but eerie tune. Suddenly, a glowing golden sphere, about the size of a bowling ball, flew into the room from the hallway. It stopped right in front of Mrs. Merchell and just hovered there.

I stared at the sphere, realizing that I’d seen the thing somewhere before, though it took me a couple seconds to remember where. A moment later, an image snapped into place in my mind, of a woman in a white costume, who had a long golden cloak, with a hood that obscured her face. In nearly every picture I’d seen of her, she had that golden orb either in hand or floating nearby.

“You’re Soothsayer,” I blurted out in surprise and even a bit of shock.

Soothsayer was a local superhero as well as a member of the Windy City Guardians, or at least she had been. While growing up, I’d heard my mom complain about her on countless occasions, because Soothsayer kept interfering in Family business, and she was one of the few superheroes who was still going after my grandmother. However, a couple years ago, someone outed her real identity to the public, and her enemies immediately took advantage of that. Some supervillain blew up her house, killing her and her entire family in the process.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” I added, still stunned by this revelation.

“Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” Mrs. Merchell stated. “And I would prefer that they remain that way.”

“Your grandmother helped Soothsayer to fake her death,” Tessa quickly explained to me.

“What?” I asked, staring at Mrs. Merchell and wondering why my grandmother would help the superhero who’d spent years trying to arrest her, but the answer was obvious. Or at least, they’d already given me the answer a couple minutes ago. By helping Soothsayer, Grandmother not only neutralized her enemy, but also got that enemy to owe her three favors as well.

Mrs. Merchell scowled. “When my identity was made public, my family was put in grave danger. And after my husband barely survived an attack on me, I turned to the one person that no one would ever expect me to ask for help. The White Lady. She helped us to fake our deaths, then provided new identities.”

I stared at Mrs. Merchell and then Tessa. Marcus just sat back, being quiet and trying to avoid notice. As I watched the former hero, I suspected that there was more to her arrangement with my grandmother than what she’d said. If all she’d wanted to do was fake her death and go into hiding, she probably could have had the other heroes help her, unless she really wanted them to believe she was dead as well.

“Now, as to your question,” Mrs. Merchell announced, staring deeply into the floating orb. After a few seconds, she turned and stared back at me before announcing, “You are a changeling…”

“A what?” I asked.

“One who has changed genders,” she explained casually.

I winced at that, suddenly wishing I could turn invisible and vanish. Unfortunately, invisibility didn’t seem to be one of the powers that I’d inherited from my grandmother.

The orb floated higher into the air until it was nearly brushing the ceiling. It glowed with a golden light that covered most of the room, though Mrs. Merchell was no longer watching it. Instead, her eyes remained fixed on me.

“You have inherited the mantle of the White Lady,” Mrs. Merchell stated in an eerie tone of voice, “though you believe it should have been impossible for you to receive it. The power could only go to a woman of the correct bloodline, and though this is true, there is another factor you are unaware of, one that has made this possible.”

“What’s that?” Marcus asked, speaking for the first time since we’d come into the house. Tessa gave him a dirty look at the interruption, though Mrs. Merchell didn’t even glance in his direction.

“You are a mutant,” Mrs. Merchell announced, still speaking in that eerie tone.

For a moment, I just stared at Mrs. Merchell in surprise, trying to wrap my head around that. She had to be wrong. I wasn’t a mutant. I couldn’t be. Until I’d become the White Lady, I’d never had any powers or shown any signs of being a mutant.

In spite of being a fan of Darius Shepard and all his mutant conspiracy plots, I didn’t have anything against mutants. I’d met a few while growing up, mostly because they were working with the Family, and I hadn’t seen any real difference between them and anyone else with powers. However, I couldn’t see myself as being one.

“Specifically,” Mrs. Merchell continued, “You are an avatar.”

“An avatar?” I asked, feeling a knot in my stomach.

One of the books in the Darius Shepard series had dealt with a villain who had been an avatar. In it, the villain had been possessed by an evil spirit that drove him to commit horrible acts. As with everything else in that series, I was sure the author had exaggerated some details about avatars, but that was about the only real knowledge I had of them.

“Avatars have the power to host spirits,” Mrs. Merchell explained patiently. “They can bond with a spirit to form a symbiotic relationship, providing energy for the spirit while gaining some of the spirit’s power in return.”

“You think Br…Bianca is an avatar?” Marcus asked, sounding just as skeptical as I felt.

“Indeed,” Mrs. Merchell answered, still not taking her eyes from me. “You are an avatar, but had not yet bonded with a spirit. When the White Lady passed, the power within her could not find a suitable replacement host and would have dispersed had it not sensed a possible solution in you. You were of the required bloodline, though not of the correct gender. However, as an unbonded avatar, you had an available hallow and the power was able to use that to create a tentative bond with you…enough so that it could convert you into an acceptable host.”

“You make it sound like the White Lady’s power is alive,” Tessa commented, watching Mrs. Merchell with a thoughtful expression.

The former hero bowed her head faintly in acknowledgement. “It is, in a way. It was created from a fusion of powerful magics and has been bonded to a series of human souls for centuries. It has…evolved into something greater than the collection of spells it began as.”

I was still reeling from what she’d told me, but one word stuck in my mind. “You said it was a tentative bond…”

Mrs. Merchell gave me a sympathetic look and shook her head. “It was the tentative bond that allowed the power to change you. Your bond has since become complete and permanent.”

I just bowed my head slightly at that, feeling for a moment like I was drowning. I’d already accepted the fact that this was all permanent, at least intellectually, but now I’d let myself get my hopes up again…only to have them dashed. I really was going to be the White Lady for the rest of my life.

“So, I’m a mutant as well as the White Lady,” I finally said, forcing a weak smile. “Does this mean I get other powers too?”

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Merchell told me with a faint smile of her own. “Though I doubt it. You are already hosting something akin to a spirit, and I do not believe your avatar powers are strong enough to host another.” She hesitated a moment, then admitted, “None of your predecessors have been avatars, and even I cannot say for certain what that may mean for the power you now wield.”

With that, she gestured to the sphere, and the light coming from it receded back to just being a dull glow. It lowered itself down and settled into the air right above Mrs. Merchell’s shoulders.

After this, we talked with Mrs. Merchell for just a few more minutes before we left, more to be polite than anything else. She’d already answered my questions, though they weren’t quite the answers I’d hoped for. Still, at least I knew why this had happened to me, and I felt a little better because of that.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Friday, July 29th, 2016

Today was the big day, the day I was going to be officially presented to the Family as the new White Lady. I climbed out of the car, trying to look poised and confident, though the truth was, I was anything but.

Though I was wearing a nice and professional looking outfit, my thoughts kept turning to the fact that I was also wearing a bra. The straps were digging into my shoulders a bit uncomfortably, but I was even more unnerved by the fact that I was wearing one at all. Of course, I’d been wearing a bra for the last couple days, but for some reason, it felt even more noticeable and awkward today than it had.

Today marked a full week since the murder of my family, and when I woke up thinking about that this morning, I’d immediately gone into another bout of crying. I remembered the way Mom, Dad, and Paige had all been brutally murdered in front of me. I couldn’t really stop thinking about it since the images came back almost every time I closed my eyes.

With my grandmother gone, Aunt Clarice, Nicolette, or even Paige should have been the one here, the one to become the White Lady. But they were all gone, and though the sheer coincidence of my having been an avatar, I was standing here instead. Something that any one of them would have been honored to receive, had been dumped on my unprepared shoulders instead.

Even though I’d been lucky enough to survive the Messenger’s attack, Bryan St. Claire had still died anyway. My old life was gone completely and there was no going back. But instead of resting comfortably in a grave, I would be forced to continue on, pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I was uncomfortable, miserable, and scared out of my wits, but I didn’t even dare show it. As far as the Family was concerned, I had to be strong and capable, regardless of the fact that I was really in way over my head. I was such a fraud.

I took a deep breath and braced myself for what was to come. I stood in front of a large house that belonged to Uncle Andre. It was bigger than the house where I’d grown up, but not quite the size of my grandmother’s. It would have been more appropriate to have moved into my grandmother’s mansion and then have everyone meet me there, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back to that place, not even for this. And thankfully, both Marcus and Tessa understood and supported me in that. Fortunately, Uncle Andre had offered the use of his home for the meeting, which would help to sell the idea that he was my grandfather.

I looked around, suddenly feeling even more exposed and vulnerable. At that moment, I was being protected by Marcus, Dominic, and two other Loyal, but I couldn’t help but thinking about how easy it would be for a sniper to take me out. Marcus and Tessa had both impressed on me that I had enemies who would want to hurt me, and they’d done their job well. Between that and what had happened last week, I was feeling a bit paranoid.

Suddenly, there was a loud cawing sound, which drew my attention to the white raven which perched on top of a yard light. Lenore was watching us, which seemed to please Tessa a little because I saw her smile faintly. Then, as if she’d simply been waiting for us to see her and acknowledge her presence, Lenore flapped her wings and flew off.

“It seems that Lenore has come to bear witness,” Tessa told me.

We went up to the door where two men stood guard. Neither of them was Loyal, and I’d seen one of them around before and knew that he took his job pretty seriously. Both of them stared at me for a moment, looking a little surprised.

“My Lady,” the one I recognized said before opening the door to let us inside.

“Thank you, George,” I told him, earning another look of surprise at the fact that I already knew his name.

As I stepped through the doors, I silently repeated the mantra, “Poise and confidence,” over and over, trying to stay in character.

I was almost immediately met by three women, who were standing just inside the house and had obviously been waiting. I recognized these women since they’d often been guests in my home, coming to visit with my mom. They were Sabine, Alice, and Tanya, the rest of the remaining Hands.

Before last week, there had been six Hands, women my grandmother had trained to cast most of the spells that the Family needed, while she only dealt with the most important ones. Mom and Aunt Clarice had been among their number, while Nicolette had been at the point where she would have been initiated as a member within a year or two. But now, Tessa and these three women were all who remained.

Alice was in her fifties and was the oldest of the Hands, but due to Tessa’s work as my grandmother’s personal assistant, she’d been the one left in charge of the group. I was pretty sure that Alice resented her for that, just as she’d resented Aunt Clarice, who had been the previous leader of the Hands.

Tanya was a chubby woman, who had a sweet tooth and usually carried a small supply of candy on her. But in spite of her harmless appearance and pleasant demeanor, I’d once overheard her calmly telling my mom about how she’d arranged for her former husband to have an ‘accident’.

And then there was Sabine, who was not only the youngest and most attractive of the Hands, but also the one I knew best. Sabine was my second cousin, on my mom’s side, and when I’d been younger, she had sometimes acted as a babysitter for me and Paige. But in spite of that, we’d never been close. Though she always got along great with Paige, she’d pretty much ignored me, just like nearly everyone else.

“My Lady,” Tessa said pleasantly. “May I introduce Alice, Sabine, and Tanya, the other three Hands.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Tanya told me, giving me a slight bow of her head. “Though I do wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Thank you,” I responded with a forced smile.

“You are…younger than I expected,” Alice said in a careful tone, though from the look in her eyes, she was clearly disappointed. And since I was dressed and made up to look a little older and more mature, she was probably going to be really disappointed when she found out how old I actually was.

Sabine just watched me with a speculative look, then introduced herself, “Hi. I’m Sabine.”

It was a strange conversation, having to pretend that I didn’t know these women, especially Sabine. It was even stranger to have all three of them realizing that I was their new boss…or at least their future boss since I wouldn’t have any real authority for a few more years. I was just thankful when our brief conversation was over, though a minute later, I wished that I was still talking to them.

Uncle Andre hobbled into the room, moving slowly and using his cane. Then he saw me and abruptly stopped, staring for a moment with a look of surprise which served as a reminder that he knew who I really was.

“Bianca,” Uncle Andre greeted me with my new name, helping me to establish my new identity. “I was told the power changed your appearance, but to see how much…” He paused and shook his head, then gave me a sympathetic look before adding, “To think, a change in pigmentation could make you look so different.”

“It is taking some getting used to,” I admitted, trying to keep my voice even so I didn’t sound nearly as self-conscious as I felt.

Uncle Andre nodded at that, then slowly came towards me. “So, how is my favorite granddaughter doing?”

I hesitated a moment, knowing that I couldn’t tell him the truth, not when there were too many people listening in. After all, it wouldn’t do for the Family to hear the new White Lady admit that she was on the verge of freaking out and running from the house screaming. That would defeat the entire purpose of this act.

“I’m...adjusting,” I told him carefully, which was about as honest as I could afford to be at the moment. He nodded in understanding. “I’m still getting used to the new skin color and power.”

“You’ll do fine,” he assured me, giving me an awkward hug. Then when he was close, he whispered just loud enough so that I was the only one who could hear. “I’m sorry that you are the one who must bear this burden. I’ll do my best to try making it easier for you. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a sincere smile, though I had to fight back the tears that wanted to come. I bit my lip and the sharp pain was enough to distract me from that, at least long enough to get myself under control.

Uncle Andre looked like he wanted to say more, but he was just as aware of our audience as I was. So he gave me a smile and asked, “Now my dear, can you help an old man into the dining room?”

I’d been to Uncle Andre’s house before and I knew that he had a large dining room, but at the moment, it was being used for a different purpose. Four people were already there, sitting around the table and making it look as though I’d stepped into some kind of office meeting room. These were my grandmother’s lieutenants, the people who actually ran the Family. And though I’d never been involved in Family politics, at least not directly, I knew who each of them was.

First, my eyes went to Robert Montagne, or Bobby the Mountain as he used to be called when he’d been a young leg-breaker and enforcer. That had been a long time ago, and though he was still a large man, he was in his early sixties and no longer as physically intimidating as he’d once been.

To Robert’s left sat Martina Lambert, who was in her early fifties and looked more like a professional business woman than someone who was part of a criminal organization. At the moment, she was texting something on her cell phone, though when she noticed I was there, she put the phone away and adjusted her glasses, much the way I used to. And though I didn’t know Martina very well, I was somehow related to her by marriage, on my mom’s side.

The next member was Madelyn Belle, a frumpy woman who looked like a stereotypical housewife or soccer mom. My mom had never liked her, and I’d often overheard her complaining about Maddy, who she saw as a rival for some reason. However, I’d always gotten along well with Maddy. Unlike a lot of people in the Family, she’d never kissed up to any of the heirs, and she’d always been nice to me.

Debora Hanson was the last of the four who’d been waiting in the room, and she was the only one who wasn’t at least a third generation Family member. She was in her late forties, looked about fifteen years younger, and was quite beautiful and striking for her age. Between her long red hair, killer body, and tendency to dress in a revealing fashion, she was actually quite popular among the men in the Family. Of course, her rather direct demeanor and the patch she always wore over her left eye, helped to keep anyone from thinking of her as just a pretty face. Family gossip also said that she’d once been a supervillain, but that my grandmother had saved her from a bad situation in exchange for her services and loyalty.

Uncle Andre put a reassuring hand onto my arm, giving me a faint nod and smile before taking a seat at the table. He hadn’t been involved in Family leadership for a long time, but since I was supposed to be his granddaughter, he’d invited himself to the meeting in order to show support. Tessa, as the new head of the Hands, automatically had a place reserved for her, though she didn’t sit down just yet.

“I would like to introduce Bianca St Claire,” she announced to the room. “The new White Lady.”

Everyone was staring at me, though I tried hard to keep my expression calm so that I didn’t show how uncomfortable that made me. After all, I’d come here knowing that I’d be receiving this kind of attention and Tessa had prepared me to deal with it.

“I thought she was illegitimate,” Debora commented, giving Uncle Andre a curious look.

I wasn’t at all surprised by the question since Tessa had warned me that someone would point out the contradiction of my having the same last name as Uncle Andre, when my ‘father’ had been a ‘bastard’. “I changed my last name,” I explained in a voice that sounded a lot calmer than how I felt. I’d practiced it all morning. “To symbolize that I’ve cut ties to my old life in order to focus on my responsibilities in this new one.”

For a moment, I stood there frozen, sure that they’d call me on that, and it looked like they definitely had questions. However, a loud ‘caw’ suddenly filled the air, drawing everyone’s attention to the corner, where Lenore was sitting on a perch. I was surprised since I hadn’t even noticed her there before. She ruffled her feathers a bit, then looked right at me and nodded her head a little.

“It appears that Lenore has come to offer you support,” Tessa said, looking somewhat amused by that. Lenore nodded her head in what I assumed was agreement.

Lenore’s sudden appearance seemed to have distracted the group a bit, but a few seconds later, we went back to the introductions, though this time they were the ones who were introduced to me. I’d met all of them before, though I had to pretend that this was the first time. As with the Hands in the other room, the experience was a bit strange and awkward.

“I’m afraid that you have us at something of a disadvantage,” Martina said, giving me a thoughtful look. “We were unaware of your existence, until very recently.”

“When the Lady and her heirs were murdered,” Debora stated with a scowl and a flash of anger in her eyes, “we thought there wasn’t anyone who could succeed her.”

Tessa bowed her head in acknowledgement. “I know that her sudden appearance is something of a surprise, but I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about her until now. The previous Lady thought it would be prudent to keep at least one of her heirs hidden…”

“In case something like this happened,” Robert finished for her, nodding his head in understanding. “I would have said that she was being paranoid, but the events of a week ago proved her right.”

“She’s just a kid,” Debora pointed out with a scowl, fixing me with her gaze. There was definitely a lot of skepticism in her expression, and I could see that she was already dismissing me. “She’ll be damn near useless to us.”

“Don’t underestimate her because of her age,” Tessa pointed out. “Though Bianca was never expected to inherit, she has received some training and preparation in case it became necessary.” Of course, she neglected to mention how little training I’d actually been given, or the fact that all of it had been in the last week. “And in accordance with the previous Lady’s instructions, if her successor is a minor, she will choose a regent to speak on her behalf until she comes of age.”

“And let me guess,” Maddy commented with a faint smile. “Since you’re the only one here who knew she even existed, you’re the new regent.”

“No, she isn’t” I said, once again struggling to keep my voice calm and stead when it really wanted to shake. “I’ve asked Marcus to be my regent.”

When I’d first decided that I wanted Marcus to be my regent, I’d expected Tessa to be disappointed by that decision. After all, she’d been my grandmother’s personal assistant and knew more about how the Family worked than anyone. However, to my surprise, she’d actually been relived. Apparently, she hadn’t wanted the extra responsibility on top of what she already had. And more than that, it seemed that by having Marcus as my regent instead, it allowed both of them to be on the council, giving me one more supporter there than I would have had otherwise.

“I am honored to accept the position,” Marcus announced. He had been standing back, but now took the opportunity to step forward so that the others could see him.

“Not a choice I would have expected,” Martina commented, though I couldn’t tell if she thought that was a good thing or bad. Then she glanced towards Uncle Andre, suggesting that he was actually the one she’d expected me to pick.

“Marcus is a good man,” Uncle Andre said, nodding his approval. “And no one can question his competence or loyalty.”

Uncle Andre’s support of Marcus seemed to ease some of their concerns, because a couple of them nodded thoughtfully. Without another word, Marcus sat down at the table, making a point of taking his place in the meeting. Tessa nodded to me and I sat down in an empty chair next to Marcus, while she sat down on my other side.

At this point, the conversation quickly shifted to the current status of the Family, and what my appearance would mean. Though Marcus and Tessa both took an active role in the discussion, I just sat there, listening in without saying a word. Most of the people around the table seemed to ignore me, or talked about me as though I wasn’t even there. This was quite familiar to me, and certainly not unexpected. For once, I was more than happy that no one was paying attention to me anymore.

Most of the conversation was boring, dealing with things I didn’t really have any knowledge about, but I didn’t dare let myself nod off like I wanted to. I’d already been warned that even if everyone seemed to ignore me, they’d still be paying attention. They were still formulating their opinions about me so it was critical that I continue to present a strong and capable image. Because of that, I sat up straight, trying to look as though I was paying attention and understood everything that was being said, while I silently repeated the mantra, “Poise and confidence.”

Eventually, the topic turned to something that immediately grabbed my full attention…the attack from last week. “We still don’t have any proof over who ordered the hit,” Robert pointed out grimly. From the look on his face and the way he cracked his knuckles when he said that, I had the impression that as soon as he knew for sure, he might very well try to go after them himself.

“The Outfit insists that they had nothing to do with it,” Maddy added with a thoughtful look. “And I believe them.”

“They wouldn’t put a hit out on kids,” Robert said in agreement. “That ain’t their style. Besides, the Lady had an arrangement with them, and they wouldn’t go after her or declare war on us without a damn good reason.”

“They did send their condolences,” Maddy said, looking through some papers.

“Condolences don’t mean anything,” Debora stated with a scowl. With that, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Uncle Andre gave her a dirty look since he didn’t like anyone smoking in his home. However, he didn’t say anything and made a point of ignoring her instead. “They have the resources to come after us.”

“But not the motivation,” Maddy insisted. “Besides, they aren’t happy that someone targeted our kids. That kind of thing sets a bad precedent, so they’ve promised to give us space to deal with the issue, and to pass along any information they get about who ordered the hit.”

Debora took a long drag on her cigarette, then blew the smoke to the side before stating, “It’s Scorn. It has to be.”

“Scorn hasn’t claimed responsibility,” Martina commented with a grim expression, “but he hasn’t denied it either. The fact that his people began making moves against one of our supply lines, as well as demanding the protection money from several of our clients, is rather telling.”

“While I agree that it probably was Scorn,” Tessa pointed out, “we can’t act against him without proof. If we declare war on him right now, or even just retaliate without evidence, some of our business associates may see us as the aggressors and worry that we’ll go after them next. With the previous Lady gone, everyone is watching the Family closely for any signs of weaknesses. We are on delicate ground and will have to be careful how we tread, because one wrong step could be disastrous.”

“I agree,” Marcus said grimly. “I want to rain hellfire and damnation down on Scorn as much as anyone else, but we’re going to have to be careful how we handle this.”

The others nodded and made a few grumbles and comments as they shared their opinions. Debora and Robert seemed the most annoyed at having to hold back at the moment, but they agreed on the necessity. Still, Debra pointed out, “But if we can find the Messenger, we might be able to get the proof we need. I’ve got a couple people looking for him already.”

“Me too,” Marcus stated in a cold tone. “But for now, we still have to be careful with Scorn.”

“Fortunately,” Martina said, glancing to me, “As soon as Scorn and his people heard that there was a new White Lady, they pulled back and stopped trying to pressure our associates. Of course, if he’d continued, that would have given us the excuse we needed to act.”

“He’s wary of the new White Lady,” Tessa said with a smile, her eyes seeming to gleam with amusement. Her eyes darted to me momentarily. “She’s an unknown quantity and he doesn’t want to risk confronting her until he knows more.”

“I suspect he won’t be the only one to hesitate until he knows more,” Martina mused. She turned her attention to me, watching me for several seconds with a thoughtful expression. “At the moment, she’s a complete mystery, which can be to our advantage…”

“The Lady also has another advantage,” Marcus announced, and I could see that he was holding back a grin, though just barely. “In addition to bearing the power of the White Lady, she’s also a mutant.”

An instant later, nearly everyone at the table was staring at me, and I could see the wheels turning in their heads. Thanks to Marcus’ revelation, they all knew I was a mutant, and they were trying to guess what other powers I might possess. I could see the moment of realization in their expressions, when it dawned on them that I was almost as much of an unknown quantity to them as to our enemies. Because of that, they too would be hesitant to start something with me, which would buy me more time to build my reputation and power. Unfortunately, the thought of working to build my reputation and power actually made me kind of nauseous, because that was the kind of thing my mom always lectured Paige about.

While this was going on, it took every ounce of willpower that I possessed to not react or show just how uncomfortable all this attention made me. Instead, I smiled faintly but kept silent, letting Marcus talk for me. After all, that was the point of having him as a regent.

“For the moment, I say we play up the new Lady being a bit of a mystery,” Marcus said as he looked around the table. “Maybe give a few hints that she’s a mutant, just to make them even more wary about making a move against us.”

“That sounds like an effective strategy,” Martina stated, looking right at Marcus, Tessa and myself and making it perfectly clear that she realized we were pulling the same thing on them.

Uncle Andre chuckled slightly as he pointed out, “That sounds like something my mother might have come up with.” Tessa looked quite pleased at that while Marcus’ expression was a little harder to read.

The meeting continued for a bit longer, but the conversation once again drifted away from topics that really interested me. I continued to pretend that I was paying attention, doing my best to look competent and in control, even though I didn’t really add more than a half dozen words during the rest of the discussion. When the meeting ended, I said some polite goodbyes, to everyone in the room as well as to the Hands who’d been waiting in the next room. Once I finally reached the safety of the car, I finally allowed myself to collapse from emotional exhaustion.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Sunday, July 31st, 2016

I hated funerals. I’ve hated them since I was six years old and had attended my first one, where we said goodbye to one of my dad’s oldest friends. I didn’t remember the man very well, though I clearly remembered standing outside in the rain and wind for over an hour, as well as being wet and miserable the entire time.

At the moment, I was attending my grandmother’s funeral, and though the weather was much better than it had been during my first funeral, I was even more miserable. I stood in the middle of the cemetery, silently watching as my grandmother’s casket was slowly lowered into the grave. Her body wasn’t even in it, or at least not her intact body. She’d been cremated in order to keep any of her enemies from messing with her body, and the casket contained the ashes. But even so, the Hands had also placed a number of spells on the casket, which would make it very difficult for anyone to open.

The funeral was a Family affair, which meant that there were unobtrusive guards scattered about, making sure that we wouldn’t have any unwanted intruders. Two of the Loyal stood close to me, not only to act as my bodyguards, but to also keep most of the Family members at a distance while I grieved.

This was my first time really being out in public as the White Lady, at least in front of the entire Family, and I was very aware of the way everyone kept looking at me. I understood why everyone was staring, as well as how I looked. However, that didn’t it any less awkward.

I was currently wearing a nice black suit, which was appropriate for a funeral, and a wide brimmed hat with a veil across the face. Not only did this help to obscure just how young I actually was, it would also hide some other things. After all, it wouldn’t do for anyone to see the White Lady crying…even at a funeral.

Today was my grandmother’s funeral, but yesterday had been everyone else’s, including my own. I’d wanted to go, to say goodbye to Mom, Dad, and Paige, but Marcus and Tessa had said it was a bad idea, that I needed to keep my relationship with them hidden so that no one could guess who I really was. I’d begged, pleaded, and even demanded that they let me go, because there was no way I was going to miss their funerals. In the end, we’d compromised. I’d gone to the funeral, but I’d stayed in the car, watching through heavily tinted windows while I sobbed uncontrollably.

I’d already used up all my tears, and at the moment, I had none left for my grandmother. But in spite of my lack of new tears, I still grieved for her. I had a heavy heart as I watched her casket descend. In many ways, my grandmother had been a hard woman, and a difficult one to know. However, she’d been one of the cornerstones of my life, and I had no doubt that in her own way, she truly had cared for me. I already missed her a great deal, but at the same time, I was also angry with her.

“How could you do this to me?” I quietly demanded of my grandmother, keeping my voice to a low whisper so that even those closest to me couldn’t hear. “This is all your fault…”

I’d grown up with the firm believe that my grandmother was powerful…that she was virtually invincible. After all, even the original Champion, the greatest superhero to ever come out of Chicago, hadn’t been able to take her down, and several generations of subsequent heroes hadn’t done any better. And in spite of all the talk about heirs and succession, I’d never truly thought it was necessary. Until a week ago, I’d honestly thought that she would outlive us all.

But now, the Messenger had proven otherwise. My grandmother had powerful magic, but in spite of all her protections, the assassin and his daughter had simply walked right through them as though they weren’t even there. My grandmother hadn’t been anywhere near as invincible as I’d always believed, and the loss of that certainty in my life hurt almost as much as the loss of my family. I was angry at my grandmother…and disappointed. If she’d only lived up to the faith I had in her, then none of this would have happened. She would have stopped the Messenger and I would still have my family…and my own life.

“You should have been stronger,” I continued to whisper, clenching my hands together so tight that my nails dug into my palms and drew blood. “You should have been able to protect everyone…”

Because my grandmother had failed, not only had she died, but so had everyone else. Mom, Dad, and Paige were gone, along with Aunt Clarice, Nicolette, and too many others. And because of all those deaths, I’d been forced to become the White Lady. All the responsibility and expectations that came with the title had suddenly been dropped on my shoulders, and I felt like I was about to be crushed by it. I grimaced, clenching my fists even tighter, almost savoring the sharp stinging pain. At the moment, I was bursting with grief, rage, and frustration. Tears began to form again, even though I thought I’d run out.

Three hundred years ago, Isabelle Dubois, the third White Lady, had been the one to form the Family. For three centuries, my ancestors led the Family and protected them. Now, whether I wanted it or not, that responsibility had been given to me. I was responsible for my family legacy as well as the Family. After all that time, after centuries of hard work and service, and after my grandmother had pulled the Family from the ashes of ruin and rebuilt it…I couldn’t be the one to lose it.

“Damn you,” I muttered to my grandmother, silently cursing her for what had happened to me and the position I’d been put into.

I hated my new body and life, seeing a girl staring back every time I looked in the mirror, and having to sit down just to take a leak. I hated the fact that everyone who saw me now saw me as a girl, and I had to act the part just to keep up with their expectations, no matter how uncomfortable it made me feel. And then, there was also the little thing about how I’d wanted to avoid the Family business, but now I’d been pulled right into the very middle of it.

Unfortunately, my personal feelings didn’t seem to matter. I had a responsibility to my ancestors, to my family, and to the Family as a whole. Regardless of my personal feelings, I had a very heavy obligation, and I didn’t dare let them down. I owed it to my family and everyone who’d come before me.

I continued to brood for the entire ceremony, though once they began to actually push the dirt into the hole, my anger and frustration softened back to grief again. I just stared at the spot and whispered a final goodbye to the woman who’d been such a key part of my world, and who’d left me far more than she should have.

At this point, the small crowd was beginning to move around and talk again, with several people coming up to me and offering their condolences. I just said a few polite words but didn’t really engage in any conversations. The Loyal standing nearby gently encouraged them to hurry on their way, much to my relief.

Then I saw Tony coming towards me. I’d heard that he’d been badly injured during the attack, and at the moment, his arm was in a cast and he was walking with a cane and a pronounced limp. Since he was Loyal, and therefore had some of my grandmother’s healing spells tattooed onto him, the fact that he was still in this shape was a good indication of just how bad he’d been.

“My Lady,” Tony greeted me politely. “I am Anthony Gullette. I am very sorry about your great grandmother, and wish I could have prevented her death. He gave a pained smile and admitted, “I am ashamed that I failed her, and promise that should you give me an opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

“Thank you,” I told Tony, not sure what I could say. “What happened to her wasn’t your fault. Even she couldn’t stop the Messenger.”

“You know the old saying about how you shouldn’t shoot the messenger?” Dominic asked from the side.

“Yeah,” Tony said, giving him a faint grin. “I say it’s time to change that policy…”

I agreed with them completely, but I wasn’t sure if it would have been appropriate for me to say anything, so I did what I usually did when unsure…I remained silent. Half a minute and a couple of polite comments later, Tony took off to go talk with some other people. I just looked around, eager to get out of here and to some place where I wouldn’t be stared at. I knew that even when people weren’t staring directly at me, they were still watching. After all, I was the new White Lady, and this was the first time that most of the people here had seen me.

Marcus and Tess had been mingling a little, but at least one of them stayed near me at all times. Marcus moved a little closer and asked, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m managing,” I answered flatly. But after a few seconds, I asked, “How much longer do we have to stay?” I knew that I probably sounded a bit whiny with that, so it was a good thing that no one else was close enough to hear.

“Not much longer,” Marcus assured me. “I figure we can leave in just a few minutes.”

“Good,” I said with a sigh. Then I asked, “So, what are the chances that we can go spend the rest of the day fishing?”

Marcus chuckled faintly at that. “Not good, I’m afraid.”

I just nodded at that since I hadn’t really expected anything else. Then I frowned, wondering if I’d ever be able to go fishing again. It was one of the few activities that I really enjoyed, but that was probably the kind of thing that the White Lady couldn’t be seen doing. My mood sank even lower at that.

Just as we were getting ready to leave, I noticed Debora walking straight towards us. I was a little surprised at that since the Family leaders had already greeted me when I first arrived, giving their polite condolences at the same time. I hadn’t been expecting that one of them would want to talk again afterwards.

“Hello, Bianca,” Debora greeted me, not referring to me as ‘my Lady’ as most other Family members seemed to do. She’d always been straightforward and didn’t kiss up to anyone, not even my grandmother. At the moment, I actually appreciated that quality.

“Hello,” I responded politely, curious about what she wanted.

“The other day,” she started off, “Marcus said you were a mutant.”

“I did,” Marcus agreed in a careful tone from beside me. He was giving Debora a wary look, obviously wondering what she was up to.

“Yes,” I responded as well, since she was speaking directly to me. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told. I haven’t been tested yet.”

Marcus scowled faintly, making me wonder if I’d just given away too much. However, Debora merely nodded, keeping her good eye on me. “Then you’ve just answered the question of whether or not you already had your MID.”

“MID?” I asked blankly.

Of course, I knew what an MID…what a Mutant Identification card was. They’d been mentioned a few times in the Darius Shepard books, and in the second book, part of the story involved him investigating an MID forgery ring. However, this was the first time I’d considered the fact that as a mutant, I would need to get one.

Debora scowled, looking a little annoyed. “How long since you manifested?”

I hesitated a moment, not sure how much I should tell her. Marcus looked a little uncertain for a moment as well, then apparently decided that we should just be honest. “She manifested around the same time she inherited her grandmother’s power.”

“So you haven’t had either long,” Debora mused, not looking the least bit surprised. “Which means that you probably haven’t mastered your power yet either. Being able to hold up an extra power as a veiled threat can be useful, but you have to be able to back it up, which means understanding the full scope of your powers and their limitations.”

“Are you a mutant?” I abruptly asked Debora. I knew that she used to be a supervillain, and I’d heard my mom mention that Debora had powers, but I had no idea what those powers were or how she’d acquired them.

“Imbued,” Debora answered simply. “But I have friends who are mutants. Which reminds me, you should be aware that announcing that you are a mutant will create another complication. Specifically, the Family has always dealt with scrutiny from heroes, law enforcement, and our rivals. Now, we might have the MCO and possibly even Humanity First to deal with too.”

“A very good point,” Marcus admitted with a grim look, which suggested that he hadn’t considered that until now.

“I recommend we find someone to do the testing, who knows how to keep quiet,” Debora continued with a thoughtful look. “And you should get an MID as soon as possible. You could probably manage without one, but having one could be useful for keeping the MCO off your back, especially if you need to travel anywhere.”

I started to nod at that, then caught myself and realized that this wasn’t the body language I needed to project to everyone who was watching. “Poise and confidence,” I silently reminded myself before telling her, “Thank you.”

Debora nodded as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. “Right now, you’re a bit of a wildcard,” she finally said, looking straight at me. “You might end up as an asset to the Family…or a liability. The way I figure it, my job is to help you become an asset.”

Marcus smiled at that. “I just wish we could count on everyone feeling that way.”

Debora nodded again as she turned to stare at my grandmother’s grave. After a few seconds, she said, “The previous Lady… She was damn good at turning liabilities into assets. I’m just following her example.” And with that, she nodded to me in acknowledgement before turning and walking away.

“I think we can probably count her as an ally,” Marcus told me once Debora was gone.

Since the funeral was over, everyone was already dispersing and leaving the cemetery. I was relieved when we were finally able to leave too. The car we’d arrived in was not only a small limo, but also an armored car. And in addition, my grandmother had cast some spells on it, which added a few more layers of protection. Once we’d climbed in and took off, I finally allowed myself to let out a long sigh of relief and relax.

I was in the back of the car, playing the part of VIP while Dominic drove and Marcus had shotgun…literally. He had a large shotgun right next to him, just in case we ran into trouble. There was a small fridge in the back with me, and I was delighted to find that it was stocked with ice cold Black Cauldron root beer. This was definitely a nice way to relax after such a rough day.

We were just driving through the middle of down town when I suddenly heard ‘pink pink pink pink’ noises coming from above me, as though someone was throwing gravel at the car. I was momentarily confused by the sound, but Marcus snarled, “Gunfire.”

“What?” I exclaimed, looking around though I didn’t see any bullet holes in the car or window. Then I remembered that this was a magically enhanced armored car. I gasped in realization, feeling a mixture of fear and relief.

“Hold on,” Dominic ordered, right before he yanked the wheel right, taking us into a sharp turn, then hit the gas. We took off as fast as traffic would allow, swerving back and forth and trying to escape whoever was attacking us. However, just when I thought we were getting away, more bullets began to hit the car.

“It’s coming from above us,” Marcus said, looking out the windows but apparently not seeing anything. He held the shotgun firmly in hand, looking pissed off that he couldn’t see who he had to shoot. “See if we can lose them...”

Dominic snapped back, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

I clutched the ‘oh shit’ handles so tightly that if my skin wasn’t already the color of fresh snow, my knuckles would have turned white. Though none of the bullets had gotten through the armor, I was terrified. My heart raced as all I could think about was the last time there had been gunfire near me, and everything I’d lost as a result.

Suddenly, there was a loud BOOM and the entire car jumped about a foot into the air and them came crashing down a moment later. The car slammed into another car, bringing us to an abrupt and somewhat painful stop. I gasped in shock, hurting from the sudden impact and the bruising that my seatbelt would leave on me.

“The engine is dead,” Dominic exclaimed, pulling a high tech looking gun out from beneath the seat.

I was still dazed, but looked out the window, or at least tried to. All the windows were shattered, though the safety glass held everything in place. With the spider web cracks covering nearly every inch of each window, I could barely see anything through them.

“We’re sitting ducks,” Marcus stated in a cold angry voice. “If they hit us with anything else like that, they’ll crack us open for sure…” Then he glanced to Dominic before looking back at me. “Dom and I will see if we can deal with whoever this is. Be ready, because if I give you the signal, I want you to run and get clear…”

I just remained where I was, terrified and frozen. It was like the party all over again. I began hyperventilating, knowing that any moment, they were going to come finish the job. They were going to kill us…

Dominic and Marcus looked to each other, and just as they were both about to open their doors and jump out with guns blazing, there was another boom. An instant later, flames exploded all around the car, and I could see a wall of fire surrounding us in every direction. The whole front hood was burning, and I knew that the roof and everything else on the outside was as well. My eyes widened and I gulped, the feeling of cold dread terror taking hold.

“We’re pinned down,” Dominic snarled, and for a moment, I thought he was going to jump out of the car anyway, even though it would mean running straight into the fire.

“Bianca,” Marcus exclaimed, turning to look at me, though I barely even registered this until he called my new name again, this time much louder. That finally caught my attention, shaking me out of it enough to look at him. “You’ve got to take care of this…”

“Me…?” I started to protest, wondering what I could possibly do about this, when it dawned on me. I knew exactly what he meant. “It won’t work…”

“You have to,” Marcus insisted. “You’re the only chance we have…”

I winced at that, knowing that we were in DEEP trouble if I was our only chance to get out of this. However, I nodded at that, then mentally reached for one of the switches inside my head, for a specific spell that had been permanently grafted to my very being. A moment later, all the runes on my body began to glow with a faint reddish orange light, as did my eyes.

I felt the tingling of power in my right palm, and when I looked, I saw that a new rune had appeared there. It said ‘FIRE’, though it wasn’t written in the primary rune that I’d practiced starting fires with. This was a different rune…in a different language…and I could sense that the power and meaning behind it was much greater.

With this magic unleashed, I could suddenly feel the flames burning all around us. I reached out with this power and pushed the flames away from the side of the car, then I opened the door and climbed out so I had better access to the fire. Though I was still scared, I focused on the fire, knowing that if I didn’t put it out, then we wouldn’t be able to escape.

Several seconds after I’d left the car, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t alone. I looked up and gasped in shock at the sight of an armored figure floating in the air a short distance away. It looked like a man in a suit of red and white power armor, which completely covered his entire body. The right arm from the forearm down looked like some kind of gatling gun while he seemed to have small rocket launchers mounted on both shoulders.

“So, you are the new White Lady,” the armored man announced. “I am Overstrike, and I will be your death.”

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen in terror. It was just like what had happened with the Messenger, all over again. I was too scared to move, to even turn and run.

An instant later, the passenger side door was flung open and Marcus leapt out of the car, not hesitating before shooting at Overstrike. Overstrike just laughed, his armor protecting him from Marcus’ attack.

“Run,” Marcus ordered me, standing his ground and continuing to shoot at Overstrike, trying to provide a distraction if nothing else so that I could escape.

I nodded, but then, it suddenly dawned on me that if I ran, Marcus and Dominic would probably be killed. They were supposed to be my guards, but at that moment, I was the only thing standing between them and death. And though I was terrified out of my wits, there was no way I could let them die without even trying to help.

“No,” I whispered, desperately trying to think of something to do, then realizing that I was already doing it. Then with more energy, I yelled, “NO.”

With that, I held out my right hand and the rune that was glowing in my palm, suddenly appeared in the air in front of my hand. I reached out with my power and all the remaining flames around the car were suddenly pulled towards me, gathering around the burning glyph until I released it, pushing it all at Overstrike. A blast of intense flames shot out at the armored man, washing over him until the flames burned out just seconds later.

I remained standing there, motionless, though this time it wasn’t in fear. My heart raced with excitement. At that moment, I no longer felt weak and helpless. I actually felt powerful and in control. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long at all.

The flames around me were entirely extinguished, which was good because the runes on my body were no longer glowing. I’d used up all the power that had been stored in that built-in spell, and I wouldn’t be able to use it again until it had recharged, which would take a couple hours.

I looked at Overstrike, who’d fallen from the air under that wave of flames, and he looked badly charred. However, it only took me a few seconds to realize that I hadn’t really done nearly as much damage as I’d hoped. In fact, I probably hadn’t done much more than burn off the paint.

“Oh no,” I whispered, feeling the fear return as I desperately tried to think of what I could do. I’d only memorized two runes so far, and I was pretty sure that neither of those would be of any use, even if I could somehow write them on his armor.

“You caught me by surprise,” Overstrike announced, carefully moving his body as though testing to make sure his armor still functioned.

Overstrike raised his arm, the one with the built in gatling gun, but suddenly, there was a flash of light and he staggered backwards. For a moment, the armored figure looked like he might fall to the ground, though he caught his balance and avoided that. Then I noticed that he had a hole, several inches across, melted right into the front of his armor. There was another flash of light, followed by a second hole.

“Eat hot plasma,” Dominic exclaimed, standing on the other side of the car and using his high tech gun to shoot another beam of energy at Overstrike. “I’m definitely gonna have to send Giz-Tech a positive review for this beauty.”

“I’m gonna kill you for that,” Overstrike announced, still not going down.

“You were going to kill us anyway,” Dominic pointed out, firing another shot before his gun began to spark and smoke. “Damn. Overheated…”

That last shot seemed to have tipped the balance, because Overstrike dropped to his knees. A small amount of smoke was coming from one of his shoulders, and his movements seemed a bit jerky. But unfortunately, he still wasn’t down and was already starting to stand up again.

My heart raced and my mind wasn’t far behind. I remembered that I wasn’t completely helpless. I’d already used up the built-in fire spell, but I had four others, even if they probably wouldn’t do much in this situation. I flipped another mental switch, and once again my eyes and runes came to life, this time glowing green.

Suddenly, a figure dropped from the sky and punched Overstrike. The armored figure went flying back from the impact, though I barely paid attention to him. Instead, my attention was locked on the newcomer.

The woman was absolutely gorgeous, with a killer body, big breasts, and long golden blonde hair that was both metallic and glowing. Her costume was a revealing blue and gold spandex outfit, that even had a window cut into the chest in order to show off her cleavage.

“It’s Sensation,” Marcus stated grimly.

Marcus wasn’t the only one to immediately recognize Sensation, the famous local hero and member of the Chicago Crusaders. Actually, it was hard to avoid knowing who she was since she seemed to love the spotlight and always went out of her way to make sure she got as much media attention as possible.

“Overstrike,” Sensation exclaimed, completely ignoring us. “I have you now, evildoer…”

“Evildoer?” I asked Marcus, hardly able to believe that she was actually talking like that. It sounded so…cheesy.

“She’s playing to the crowd,” Dominic responded with a smirk. “And also providing a great distraction.”

With that, the three of us hurried away, leaving Sensation to finish dealing with Overstrike. However, once we were far enough away, I stopped to look back, to stare at Overstrike and remember that brief moment of confidence I’d felt…and the fact that my attack still hadn’t been enough.

Earlier, I’d been angry at my grandmother because she hadn’t lived up to my expectations, because she hadn’t been strong enough to protect my family. But now, I was the White Lady and people were expecting me to be the strong one. But I wasn’t strong. The three of us had almost died because I hadn’t been powerful enough to fight off Overstrike.

I hated my new body and the life that came with it, but I had a responsibility that superseded my own personal feelings. I had an obligation to my extended family, to the people who looked to me as the one to lead and protect them. That meant I had to learn and get stronger.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Tuesday, August 2nd, 2016

I was sitting in a comfortable chair with a glass of root beer beside me while the old movie Against All Flags was playing on the TV. I’d always been a fan of old Errol Flynn movies, and this was one of my favorites of his. However, I wasn’t really paying much attention to the movie. Instead, I was focused on the book I was reading.

The book that my ancestor had written was filled with a lot of useful information, and not just on the history of my family legacy and what it allowed me to do. About half the book was filled with magical runes I could learn to use. Most of those were primary runes, but there were also some from other languages but which would be very useful once I learned how to use them.

Along with all the runes, there were also a lot of notes about how to manipulate them and their magical effects. Apparently, I could do things to make them more energy efficient and powerful, or even give some of them a time delay or trigger to make them activate later. However, I still needed to master the basics before I could focus on the fine tuning.

Sitting beside me was a notebook, which I’d spent all morning drawing runes in. I picked it up and flipped through the pages, seeing several runes that I’d drawn over and over while trying to memorize them. I’d found that while practicing my spells, I had a shortcut that let me do so much more efficiently, and without wasting essence. Since I could tell when a rune was drawn right just by looking at it, I could practice drawing the runes over and over, without actually using my essence to test it.

One of the runes that I’d been practicing the most over the last couple days, trying hard to memorize, was one that translated to rust or corrosion. I thought that if I’d been able to draw this rune on Overstrike’s armor, I might have been able to ruin it. Of course, that would have meant getting really close to him and having him stand still while I doodled on him, but I had to start somewhere.

I took a sip of my root beer, then looked over to Dominic, who sat on the other side of the room, watching the movie and the door at the same time. Another one of the Loyal was somewhere outside, keeping an eye on the house from there. I frowned, not exactly thrilled about the idea of so many people going out of their way for me, but I knew better than to protest it.

Marcus was gone at the moment, attending to Family business. Since I’d made him my regent, he had a lot of other things to do and could no longer focus on protecting me, hence Dominic and the other Loyal who have been taking turns. As if I was some little kid who needed a constant babysitter.

Dominic got up and asked, “Would you like anything from the kitchen?”

“I’m good,” I told him. “Thank you.”

Just as Dominic came back with a grilled cheese sandwich for himself, Marcus and Tessa both returned. Tessa hadn’t come for my morning lessons, so this was the first time I saw her today. Her eyes immediately went to the book in my lap and she smiled faintly, apparently pleased to see that I was studying.

“One of our people just finished talking to Overstrike,” Marcus told me without preamble.

That immediately caught my attention. After the fight the other day, Sensation had finished Overstrike off pretty quickly and had dropped him off at jail. Apparently, Dominic and I had done enough damage to his armor that the hero didn’t have to do much to take him down, not that we’d get any credit for that.

According to Tessa, there were a couple local cops who were ‘sympathetic’ to the Family and our needs, and they were going to ‘talk’ to Overstrike about the attack. Specifically, we had a few questions about why he tried to kill me, and they were supposed to get answers from him.

“Let me guess,” Dominic commented in a wry tone. “Scorn hired him.”

“Not exactly,” Marcus said with a scowl. “Carlos…Overstrike’s real name, wasn’t hired by anyone. He’s a relative newcomer and came on his own because he thought that taking down the new White Lady would build his reputation.”

I scowled at that, feeling a knot in my stomach at the idea that some complete stranger would try killing me, for no other reason than because he thought it would make him look tough. “I thought the whole point of this was to make people think twice before coming after me.”

Marcus gave me a pained look. “It is working, but…” He hesitated a moment, then admitted, “Someone put Overstrike up to this. He told our people that he was contacted by an anonymous source, who strongly suggested that if he could take out the new White Lady, he’d prove to everyone that he was ready for the big leagues.”

“One of our enemies made a move against you,” Tessa said with an awkward expression, “and a lot sooner than we expected. However, they didn’t want to risk acting against us directly or having their name tied to it, so they manipulated Overstrike to do it instead.”

“Scorn,” Dominic stated as though this was a simple fact.

“Probably,” Tessa admitted. “But we can’t prove it yet. The truth is, we aren’t even sure if he really wanted Overstrike to succeed…or if this just a test.”

“Probably both,” Marcus stated with an angry expression. He looked at me and explained, “He probably wanted to see what you were capable of, and if you happened to die in the process, so much the better for him.”

“Damn,” I blurted out with a mixture of fear and frustration. I’d agreed to project this whole White Lady persona because I’d been told it would protect me, and it wasn’t working.

I was starting to get worked up, but Marcus put a hand on my shoulder. “This proves that he’s worried about you, and after Overstrike failed, he’ll be cautious about making another move too soon. And if nothing else, I seriously doubt he’ll find anyone else gullible enough to take the job without payment.”

“But you don’t know,” I snapped. “We don’t even know who killed…” Then I stopped, glancing to Dominic and silently reminding myself that he still didn’t know who I really was, or who I had been. “We still don’t know how killed my grandmother.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Marcus promised me, and I could see from the fierce look in his eyes, that he meant it. “We’ll find out who did this, and we will make them pay. We just need to be patient a little longer.”

I nodded at that, but I was too choked up to really say anything. As it was, I was on the verge of crying again, and I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to be stronger, so I could protect myself against people like Overstrike or the Messenger, and I couldn’t do that if I began crying every time I ran into a problem.

“I need to learn more,” I told Tessa, who nodded agreement.

“We’ll practice more tonight,” she promised me. “And we’ll try to find some spells you can use in a fight.”

“Which reminds me,” Dominic said. I gave him a curious look as he came over. He held out a hand gun and asked, “Do you know how to use one of these?”

I clenched my jaws and nodded, taking the gun from his hands. Without a word, I verified the safety, ejected the clip, and then checked the chamber before reloading it. Then I glanced to Marcus, who was the one who’d taught me how to handle a gun. He nodded faintly in approval.

“I guess you do,” Dominic commented with a grin.

“Which also reminds me,” Tessa added, bringing my attention back to her. “One of MCO power testers owed a significant debt to the Outfit, and today, I bought that debt from them. I’ve notified him that we’ll forget the debt, in exchange for his cooperation and silence.”

I stared at Tessa for a moment and nodded in understanding. “He’d going to give me my power testing and MID.”

Tessa nodded agreement. “You’re scheduled for it tomorrow.”

“Good,” I said with a sigh.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of walking into an MCO testing center and going through whatever the testing entailed, but I had to admit, I was definitely curious about my abilities. Mrs. Merchell had told me that I was a mutant and an avatar, and even though I was pretty sure she was telling the truth, I wanted to get a second opinion.

Chicago, Il, Wednesday, August 3rd, 2016

The Mutant Commission Office, more commonly known as the MCO, had quite a reputation, or several different reputations depending on who you asked. According to Humanity First and other like-minded individuals, the MCO were brave soldiers who dedicated their lives to protecting humankind from the mutant threat. On the other hand, mutants seemed to view them as jack booted thugs who wanted to make them all disappear.

Until recently, I’d never really given the MCO much thought, other than when I was reading a Darius Shepard novel that included them. However, ever since Mrs. Merchell had told me that I was a mutant, I’d done a little research online and found a lot of stories that exemplified both of those viewpoints.

Since I was now on the mutant side of things, I felt extremely nervous to be standing in front of the MCO’s Chicago Field Office, or at least the testing center building. I kept looking around, half expecting to see armored soldiers standing guard. Of course, that kind of thing would discourage mutants from coming in for testing, but my imagination didn’t care about things like logic.

Of course, I could have just gone to the Chicago Crusaders and had my testing done in their facility, since they were known to help out mutants who were wary of the MCO. But ironically, at the moment, I was probably safer going to the MCO than the heroes. After all, the Crusaders might very well recognize who I was, especially since all the glyphs on my arm were a good clue that I wasn’t an ordinary mutant. And considering my Family connections, it would be a good idea to avoid them as much as possible.

The White Lady had been a presence in Chicago for nearly a century, and it was well known among the local heroes and MCO that my grandmother hadn’t been a mutant. So far, word hadn’t really spread yet that the new White Lady was a mutant, which mean that the MCO wouldn’t be looking for me. As far as they’d be concerned, I was just another teenage girl who’d just manifested.

I was currently dressed to play up that expectation, wearing casual clothes along with a hoodie with the hood up. Marcus was with me, playing the part of my dad, though he had insisted on dressing up a bit so no one would recognize him or connect the dots. He had on a fake mustache, glasses, and a red baseball cap. I thought that if he got rid of the glasses, he could probably pretend to be Mario, but I suspected that might have been intentional.

“Don’t worry,” Marcus assured me. “No one here knows who you are, and we’ve already made arrangements to avoid trouble.”

I nodded at that, though I didn’t relax much. After all, one thing I’d learned over the last week and a half, was that trouble always came when you lowered your guard and weren’t expecting it. For all I knew, another assassin might be waiting nearby for a chance to kill me.

Marcus and I went inside, though I kept my head down so that the cameras didn’t get a good look at my face. That was one of the reasons I was wearing the hoodie with the hood up, to make it more difficult to get a good picture of me.

“We have a testing appointment with a Doctor Hascolm,” Marcus told the wary looking receptionist.

The woman looked at me and her eyes narrowed a little in suspicion, but I just tried to look innocent and worried. I didn’t have to pretend since I actually was pretty worried.

“I’ll notify him that you’re here,” the receptionist said after a few seconds.

A couple minutes later, Dr. Hascolm arrived. He was an older man, with gray hair that was heavily receded. He took one look at Marcus and me, then gave an obviously forced smile. With only a couple words, he told us to follow him into the back.

“I was told to expect you,” Dr. Hascolm told us, his eyes darting to me again. “I was also told that you require accurate testing, but with a minimum amount of records.”

“That’s right,” Marcus told him.

Dr. Hascolm nodded at that before gesturing for us to have a seat in front of his desk. “Then let us begin. To start with, all testing is to be performed under a codename, and your resulting MID will be issued under that name. Do you have a codename picked out yet?”

“Yes,” I answered.

For the last couple days, I’d given a lot of thought to what codename I wanted on my MID, and though the White Lady was the obvious choice, it was also one I didn’t feel very comfortable with. For one, that was more of an inherited title than a codename, and for another, it would be stupid to simply tell the MCO who I was. It was much smarter to keep my MID completely unconnected to my title. And of course, I also saw this as an opportunity to establish my own identity, even if it was merely on a plastic card.

“Glyph,” I stated, thinking about all the glyphs that now marked my body, physical manifestations of the spells that were bound to each other and to me. “I want my codename to be Glyph.”

“Glyph,” Dr. Hascolm mused as he typed it into the computer. A few seconds later, he announced, “That name isn’t taken. Okay, Glyph…please tell me what you know or suspect about your powers and how they work.”

I glanced to Marcus, but he remained silent, letting me speak for myself. “I was told I’m an avatar,” I carefully told Dr. Hascolm, “and that because I’m an avatar, I’m hosting a sort of spirit…”

“Avatars are not uncommon,” he assured me. “And what powers does this spirit provide you?”

I frowned at that, knowing that this was where I had to be careful since I wanted accurate testing, but didn’t want to give too much away. “I’ve been told that I can gather essence easier than most people,” I explained, “and I have a few other magical tricks it lets me do too…”

Dr. Hascolm wrote some notes down on a sheet of paper, then asked me a few questions on what these magical tricks were. I was fairly vague, and he seemed curious, but he didn’t press me.

Once Dr. Hascolm was finished with the questions, he asked me to change clothes into a testing outfit, which was a cross between a jumpsuit and spandex, and which was loaded with built in sensors to help with the testing. It was a bit uncomfortable, but it had long sleeves and helped to hide my tattoo marks, or at least all of them except the one on the back of my hand. Dr. Hascolm gave my hand a curious look, but didn’t ask about it.

The testing started with the stereotypical psychic tests, where Dr. Hascolm had me guessing at cards for a good half hour, trying to see if I could predict which cards he was going to draw or guess the ones he was staring at. Following that, and a complete lack of unusual results, he asked me to try reading Marcus’ thoughts and emotions, as well as his own, and then to try making them do something against their will.

“No indications of psychic abilities,” Dr. Hascolm mused when we were finished. He made some notes on his clipboard, then said, “Now for the next area…”

The next room we went into contained half a dozen tables, each of which seemed to be covered with machines or parts, though one of the tables had bottles of chemicals instead. I spent almost an hour in that room, going from table to table, trying the different things that Dr. Hascolm asked. I tried to figure how what I could build with the parts, as well as how to use the machines, but none of it did much good. In the end, I just felt frustrated.

After I’d gone through each of the tables, and even messed around with a small computer in the corner, Dr. Hascolm said, “No indications of gadgeteer, devisor, or technopathic abilities.”

By this point, I was starting to feel pretty bored and frustrated with the testing since I’ve tested negative on everything. However, next we began testing for something that immediately made me feel better. Magic.

“I am not qualified to accurately test your magical abilities,” Dr. Hascolm told me apologetically. “Mrs. James is a baseline magic user, and I can assure you, she is perfectly qualified to determine your magical abilities.”

I frowned at that, a little nervous at suddenly being handed off to someone else when we finally got to the part of the testing that was relevant to me. Dr. Hascolm had a good reason to cooperate and keep a few things to himself, but I had no such assurances about the elderly black woman who came in a minute later.

Mrs. James took one look at me then gave me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry girl, I don’t bite.”

“You’re in good hands with Mrs. James,” Dr. Hascolm assured me, looking just a little nervous himself, as if afraid that this surprise addition to the testing might interfere with our agreement. Then he stepped back to watch, though he still had his clipboard in hand.

“Do you know anything about magic?” Mrs. James asked me gently.

I hesitated a moment, not sure how much I should tell her. However, I wanted to learn more about my powers, and the best way to do that was to be as honest as possible. “I’ve been getting lessons,” I finally admitted. “And I can cast a couple spells.”

Mrs. James’ eyes lit up at that. “Can you show me one of these spells?”

I nodded agreement before asking for a pen and some paper. Mrs. James looked curious at that. I carefully drew the fire rune onto the paper, taking my time and making sure that I got it right. Then I set the paper down onto a metal table and pushed just a little essence into the rune. An instant later, it caught on fire. The paper burned up in seconds.

“Interesting,” Mrs. James said carefully. She stared at me for a moment with a thoughtful expression that made me think that she suspected something. “I know of a group of women who work with that kind of magic and suspect that one of them has been teaching you.” She was silent for a few more seconds, then abruptly said, “But enough of that. Let’s get you properly tested…”

Mrs. James pulled a wooden box, about the size of a shoe box and intricately carved. It looked old. Without a word, she opened the box, revealing ten crystals and stones of different types, sitting on a velvet liner.

“Please hold this,” Mrs. James instructed as she handed me a blue crystal.

A few seconds later, she pointed to a circle that had been drawn on the floor, and which was surrounded by runes and symbols. As I looked it over, I saw some of writing translated to something that seemed to say ‘sense/detect/scan essence/magic/life’, while a couple of the symbols didn’t translate at all. I had a feeling that someone either drew those symbols wrong, or copied them from a book that had gotten them wrong, because they didn’t mean anything.

Mrs. James had me stand inside the circle while she performed some kind of spell. Or at least I assumed it was some kind of spell because she recited a bunch of strange sounding words, but I didn’t really get anything from them. What I did notice was that the circle glowed faintly and I had goosebumps. Once she was finished, I was able to get out of the circle, much to my relief.

The magical testing lasted for almost an hour before Mrs. James was satisfied and decided we were done. Dr. Hascolm and Marcus had stood back and watched without interference or comment the entire time, though the power tester did make a few notes on his clipboard.

“Glyph is definitely a magic user,” Mrs. James told Dr. Hascolm. “The girl has a real affinity for those written spells, but couldn’t perform any of the spoken ones I gave her.”

“And what rating would you assign her?” Dr. Hascolm asked curiously.

“From the amount of essence I measured the girl drawing,” Mrs. James answered with a thoughtful expression, “I’d give her a solid wizard rating of three.”

“A three?” I asked, surprised by the rating and actually disappointed. I’d thought it would be higher. I was sure that I would have measured as a five or six. After all, everyone said my grandmother had been a powerful magic user, and I had inherited her abilities. Obviously, her power came from a lot more than just how much essence she could draw.

“Don’t be greedy,” Mrs. James teased me. “Most baseline magic users would kill for that kind of advantage.” I nodded at that, remembering how impressed Tessa had been with my ability to gather essence.

Dr. Hascolm looked at his watch, then announced, “I recommend we take a break, then continue with your testing after lunch.”

“That sounds good to me,” Marcus agreed.

With that, I wasted no time in going to the changing room and stripping out of the testing suit and getting back to real clothes. Unfortunately, due to my freakish girly body, specifically the fact that my skin was white as snow, I couldn’t exactly go eat at one of the local restaurants.

“Why not?” Marcus asked me when I brought up my concerns. “No one has any idea that you’re the White Lady, and since we’re eating right next to the testing center, they shouldn’t be too surprised at having a mutant eat there.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking around nervously as we left the testing center. Then I caught sight of Dominic standing on the other side of the street, looking like a casual pedestrian, though he was obviously there as backup. If Dominic was there, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that we had another Loyal or two hiding out nearby as well. “I see...”

Marcus and I went to a small hot dog place that was just across the street, and we even passed Dominic while going. He gave a faint nod but made no other show of knowing us, which I took to mean that he wouldn’t be joining us for lunch.

A short time later, I was eating my dog, which had been dragged through the garden, and enjoying it immensely. Having a hot dog for lunch wasn’t very impressive, but it was the sheer normalcy of eating one that brought a smile to my face. For a brief moment, I was able to forget everything that was going on and simply appreciate the feeling of being normal again.

Suddenly, someone began leaning over my table to get a better look at my face. I was wearing my hoodie with the hood up to keep people from getting too much a look at me, but it seemed that someone didn’t take the hint.

“It’s a mutant,” exclaimed the heavyset man who was invading my personal space. He backed away, his eyes widening in what seemed to be a mixture of fear and anger. Then he yelled out, “Call the MCO…”

I just sat there for a moment, feeling stunned by this man, and the fact that a couple other people in the restaurant suddenly began gasping in backing away from me. Until now, every time someone wanted to come at me, it was because I was the new White Lady. This was the first time that people had been hostile because I was a mutant.

“Mind your own business and go away,” Marcus told the man in a cold and very dangerous voice.

“Call the MCO,” the man yelled again.

An instant later, Marcus was on his feet and standing beside the man. From the angle of his body, I was probably the only one who saw the gun that my bodyguard now had pressed into the man’s side.

“You’re going to shut up and sit down,” Marcus told the man in a quiet voice. “And you’re not going to say a single word about her. If you cross me in this, they won’t find your body…ever.”

At this point, the heavyset man looked terrified, and it was no longer of me. Without a word, I got up and left the restaurant with my lunch unfinished. Once I was outside, Marcus joined me, and we hurried back to the testing center. It was ironic that we were heading to an MCO building in order to avoid trouble.

When testing resumed, I was immediately thrown into a series of physical tests which included lifting weights, running on a treadmill, and the most insane version of dodgeball I’d ever seen. I was already sore and exhausted before they hooked me up to some machine to see if I could generate or control energy of any kind.

Eventually, the testing was completed and I was able to change back to my normal clothes before meeting up with Dr. Hascolm again in his office. He was having a discussion with Marcus, which ended the moment I stepped back into the room.

“I was just finishing up your MID,” Dr. Hascolm told me, gesturing to a machine. A few seconds later, the machine spat out a plastic card and handed it to me.

My new MID looked something like a driver’s license, with my picture on one side while the other side contained all the relevant information. On the top was my new codename Glyph, and under my power ratings, it said ‘Av-2, Wiz-3, Reg-3’. The ‘techniques’ section was blank, with no mention of my various additional abilities. There was no information for my weaknesses or backup team either. Though my MID was accurate, it only contained the basic information.

“Is that acceptable?” Dr. Hascolm asked, glancing to Marcus who nodded agreement.

“The records?” Marcus asked the doctor.

Dr. Hascolm nodded. “I only entered the most basic information into our system…the same information that you have available on your card. All test results were recorded on hardcopy.” He handed a manila folder to Marcus, who looked through the contents and nodded. “That is the only copy.”

“Good,” Marcus told him. “Then our business is finished.”

“My debt is erased?” Dr. Hascolm asked.

Marcus simply asked, “What debt?” Dr. Hascolm let out a sigh of relief. As we turned to leave, he warned the doctor, “Next time, don’t bet more than you can afford…”

“It wasn’t gambling,” Dr. Hascolm responded awkwardly. “It was my wife’s medical bills…”

Marcus paused at that and looked back at Dr. Hascolm for a few more seconds and then nodded. “Then I hope you never have need of such bills again.”

With that, Marcus and I hurried out of the building, and I let out a sigh of relief once we’d passed the doors. Marcus gave a faint nod to Dominic, who continued watching us from a distance until we reached our car and took off.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Friday, August 5th, 2016

I groaned as I climbed out of bed, not feeling the least bit enthusiastic about getting up and facing the day. As I staggered towards the bathroom, no one would have said I had the grace and poise expected of the White Lady, especially not when I absently scratched my butt. At that moment, I didn’t care. Playing the role of the White Lady was the absolute last thing I wanted to do right then.

When I reached the toilet, I fumbled for little Bryan for a moment before I suddenly remembered that he was gone. Little Bryan had been with me for my entire life, but before I could actually get to really use him for his intended purpose, he disappeared. I grimaced, feeling a vague sense of betrayal at his abandonment.

A couple minutes later, once I’d finished doing my business on the toilet, I washed my hands in the sink and carefully avoided looking into the mirror above it. I was starting to get used to seeing a stranger staring back at me every time I looked into a mirror, but I still didn’t think of that eerie looking girl as ‘me’. I wasn’t sure I ever would.

“It’s like having my grandmother’s ghost looking back,” I muttered bitterly. Of course, the girl in the mirror was much younger than my grandmother had been, but the resemblance was undeniable.

Then, I took a deep breath and braced myself for the next step of my morning routine. A shower. It was amazing that something so ordinary and normally so relaxing, could become so awkward and uncomfortable. However, my entire body was different now, and when I was washing myself, there was no escaping that fact. There was no ignoring it or trying to put it out of my mind like I usually tried to do. So after I climbed into the shower, I washed as quickly as I could, trying to get it done and over with as soon as possible.

Afterwards, I muttered a few curses as I tried to dry my long mess of soaking wet hair. Long hair was annoying enough when it was dry, but when it was wet, it also weighed a ton. Unfortunately, when I’d brought the subject up of cutting it off to Tessa, she’d been horrified and insisted that I keep the hair since it would help to sell my new image. In spite of that, I was increasingly tempted to take some scissors and cut it all off anyway.

“Damn it,” I grumbled bitterly as I pulled out a hair dryer. “Stupid wet hair…”

I wished there was a way to dry my hair off more quickly, without having to sit there for half an hour with a hair dryer. Then an idea suddenly occurred to me. I ran my hand through my wet hair and began to grin. A moment later, I flipped one of the mental switches in my head and suddenly my eyes and all of my tattoos began to glow blue. When I glanced over to the mirror, the effect was actually quite impressive looking.

“I should have thought of this sooner,” I commented, using my newly activated command over water to push the water away from my hair and body. Suddenly, droplets of water were flung out away from me, and when I reached up to feel my hair, it was nice and dry. However, once I looked around me, I realized that in the process of drying myself, I’d accidentally sprayed the bathroom. “Ooops…” Since the magic was still active, I reached out with my power again, grabbing all the water and moving it into the shower stall where I released it. “Much better.”

With that, I released hold of the power and it faded away, though it would have completely run out soon anyway. All five of my permanent elemental spells had a very limited duration, and wouldn’t last more than thirty seconds at most. They’d fade even more quickly if I used up the energy, and then I’d have to wait a couple hours for them to recharge before I could use them again. Because of that, they were more useful as emergency backup spells than as a first line of defense, at least according to Tessa.

“And it’s good for drying off,” I mused to myself, feeling rather smug at discovering such a practical use for the magic. I couldn’t wait to tell Tessa… Then I paused, realizing that Tessa would probably chew me out for wasting essence on something as simple as drying my hair. Or if nothing else, she’d give me a guilt trip about how none of the Hands had enough essence to spend that frivolously. “I’d better not tell her…”

A short time later, I was fully dressed, though I hesitated a moment before reaching for the MID that I’d been given. Technically, I only needed to have one of these when I was going through an airport, but I’d been told that the MCO might harass and even arrest any mutant who was caught without having their MID on them. I scowled at that, ing the idea of having to carry an ID around just to walk down the street, but I didn’t want to risk going without it either.

For a moment, I just stared at my MID, specifically at the power ratings. Considering the fact that all power ratings could potentially go as high as a 7, mine weren’t really all that impressive. In fact, my only real mutant ability seemed to be that I was an avatar, and the only thing that being avatar did for me, was let me become the White Lady in the first place. Basically, my mutant power let me do what Paige, Nicolette or Aunt Clarice could have done on their own. That was actually quite depressing, as if I didn’t have enough to be depressed about as it was.

Of course, while Dr. Hascolm had been testing me, I’d taken the opportunity to ask him a few questions. According to him, there was a possibility that I did have other mutant abilities, but they could have been suppressed or overshadowed by the powers my ‘spirit’ gave me. Basically, it all came down to the fact that if I was a low level magic user or a low level regenerator, I’d probably never know because the ‘spirit’ I was hosting was also giving me those abilities.

“Not that it makes any difference,” I muttered with a sigh.

With a shake of my head, I finally left my bedroom, going straight to the living room where I found Tony waiting, sitting down and positioned so he could look out the front window. I wasn’t at all surprised to see Tony here since he’d begun working as one of my bodyguards yesterday. He was still limping a little from his injuries, but he’d recovered enough that he wanted to go back to work, and Marcus had given him the go ahead.

I liked Tony and Dominic, but I wasn’t exactly thrilled that they were spending so much time in the house with me. Neither of them knew who I really was, so as long as they were around, I had to keep up my White Lady persona, at least to some degree. It was frustrating, making me feel even more trapped by my new role, but I didn’t complain because I understood the necessity. After all, it was better than being dead.

“Good morning, my Lady,” Tony greeted me politely. Dominic had been around me enough to realize that I wasn’t comfortable with that kind of formality, but Tony was still feeling me out and didn’t want to be rude.

“Good morning,” I responded with a faint nod of my head before going into the kitchen.

I was pleasantly surprised to find my breakfast waiting, though admittedly, it probably wasn’t the kind of breakfast my mom would have approved of. There were some chocolate croissants, which had obviously come from a bakery or restaurant. Fortunately, there was some fresh fruit and yogurt as well, though the pastries were definitely the star of the meal.

Once I was finished eating, I tried to decide how to keep myself occupied until Tessa arrived for our lessons. My first thought was that I could watch TV, and I doubted that Tony would complain if I put on North by Northwest or the Treasure of Sierra Madre. And of course, I also had the Clive Cussler book that Marcus had brought me yesterday, and I was looking forward to starting that. But after some consideration, I remembered my encounter with Overstrike and my decision to become stronger.

A minute later, I was down in the basement, retrieving my book that Lenore had given me from where I’d left it on the desk. The book was my most prized possession, answering many of the questions I had and giving me a LOT of valuable information. I hadn’t wanted to risk anything happening to it, so I was storing it in the most secure place I could think of, a magical safe room that was covered from wall to wall with protective spells.

“Let’s see,” I mused as I opened the book to the section on primal runes and found a new one that I wanted to learn. As I reached for a notebook and pen so I could practice the rune, I smiled wryly to myself and mused, “I never would have guessed that learning magic would be so repetitious and boring…”

I carefully drew the rune about a dozen times, until I saw that I finally had it right. Only then did I focus my will and pushed essence into the symbol, which immediately began to glow with an eerie white light. According to the notes in the book, the rune should continue glowing like that until it ran out of essence, being my very own magical night light.

“Not very practical,” I said aloud, remembering Tessa’s frequent warnings about wasting essence on things you could do without magic. However, it was another interesting spell to add to my repertoire, and if nothing else, it might come in useful if I ever found myself in the dark without a flashlight.

I spent another half hour practicing with the rune until I realized that Tessa had come into the basement and was watching me. “Good morning,” she greeted me. “I’m pleased to see that you’re taking such initiative.” She came over and stared at the rune I’d been working on. “Ah yes, a light spell… I was taught that one during my apprenticeship, though I haven’t had much call to use it since.”

I nodded at that, then admitted, “I figured that if I accidentally screwed this one up, I couldn’t really hurt anything.”

“True,” Tessa greed pleasantly. “But it seems that you possess the perfect ability to prevent that sort of thing from happening.”

After this, Tessa had me practice some exercises that were designed to develop my focus and discipline, so that I could learn how to avoid leaking essence. And as she kept telling me, the less essence I leaked, the more I could store and have available for when I really needed it. So far, I haven’t had any issues with running low on essence, but I figured that she knew what she was talking about.

In spite of the fact that I was learning how to control magic, these exercises were still boring. My thoughts soon began to wander, which probably only proved that I needed to work on my focus and discipline. I’ve been spending all this time learning how to use magic and the abilities that my family legacy gave me, but I’d barely done any research on avatars. I was an avatar, but I didn’t really understand how the power worked, nor did I know anyone who could teach me.

“Focus,” Tessa stated when she noticed my attention wandering. “If you had a hole in your pocket that you were constantly losing change from, you would patch the hole. This is the same thing…”

“Actually,” I responded wryly. “I’d probably put my money in a different pocket…”

Tessa stared at me for a moment, then chuckled. “Actually, there are many magic users who do just that. They are not disciplined enough to hold their essence, so they store the essence in external objects…such as amulets.”

“Then why aren’t we doing that?” I asked curiously.

“I will teach you that eventually,” Tessa promised. “But for now, you need to master the basics.”

“It does sound like it might be easier,” I muttered in complaint.

Tessa gave me an amused look. “Your grandmother made use of that technique, though certainly not because of any lack of discipline on her part. She created a large pool of stored essence where she made regular deposits. This pool supplies the essence that fuels the enchantments on the Loyal, and we Hand draw upon it to fulfil our duties.” She rolled up her sleeve, letting me see the runes and symbols that she had tattooed on her arm. The marks actually looked similar to the ones that Marcus had on his chest, though they were definitely different. “This is what links me to the pool and allows me to draw essence from it.”

I stared at Tessa for a moment, putting together the pieces and realizing that I was probably expected to provide essence to this pool as well once I was a little stronger. After all, Tessa had told me that my grandmother was the one who provided them with the essence they needed to perform their Family duties, and that this was one of the reasons why the White Lady was so important to the Family.

“This reminds me,” Tessa said, her expression turning serious. “You have been invited to a dinner party.” She held out a fancy looking invitation card. “It seems that some of the other influential members of the Family would like to meet you…and feel you out.”

I looked at the invitation and felt a little worried. “I thought you said I should be mysterious and keep them guessing…”

“True,” Tessa agreed with a frown. “But unfortunately, if you turned down the invitation, you risk alienating some of the very people you need to support you. However, this is also an opportunity to begin winning them over. I believe that this dinner may very well be important to your long term success.”

I groaned at that, knowing full well that if I went to this dinner, then I’d have to be in my White Lady persona the entire time. That was bound to be uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassing, especially when I dealt with people I knew from my previous life. Unfortunately, I had to take Tessa’s advice, because I had almost no idea of what I was doing.

“Then, what do we do?” I asked her in resignation.

Tessa gave me a reassuring smile as she answered, “This afternoon, we will work on formal dinner etiquette. But for now, I think it’s time to introduce you to some simple wards and protection spells.” She looked rather proud as she answered, “This is the majority of what the Hands do.”

With that, Tess pulled a piece of chalk out of a desk drawer, then walked across the room to a spot where there was a large clear area on the floor. She bent down and began drawing something, pausing long enough to gesture for me to move closer. I glanced at the permanent runes that marked the walls and floor of the room, then went to go learn how to make them.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Sunday late afternoon, August 7th, 2016

I sat in the back of the car, taking slow and steady breaths as I tried to calm myself and prepare for what was to come. We’d arrived at the dinner party a minute ago, but I had yet to actually leave the car. I didn’t want to go into the party. I dreaded it. The last time I’d gone to a party, it had been a complete and utter disaster that had cost my family their lives while destroying mine entirely. I still had frequent nightmares about it.

“Are you ready?” Marcus asked me patiently.

I hesitated a moment before responding, “Yes.”

With that, Dominic, who had been driving, climbed out of the car and opened the door for us to get out. After climbing out of the car, I paused for a minute to adjust my clothes, except for the bra since it wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to adjust that in public. I smoothed out my white slacks, then tugged on the white jacket I was wearing over the white blouse. In this kind of situation, my grandmother would have worn some kind of elegant and expensive dress, but in spite of everything I’d inherited from her, her fashion sense wasn’t one of them.

Once I was done with my clothes, I slowly looked around, trying to hide my nervousness and apprehension. I saw that Tony was already here, as were a couple other guards. However, that just reminded me of the guards at the last part, and how little good they’d been. Normal baselines, and even the enhanced Loyal, were of limited use against someone with the right powers.

In spite of my nerves, I started towards the door, keeping my expression calm and neutral. I half expected to see Lenore perched above the door, offering me support with her mere presence. However, there was no sign of the bird. What I did see though, were runes carved around the doorframe, indicating that protective wards had been put in place. Of course, that didn’t really make me feel any more secure because my grandmother’s house had been warded far more heavily.

“My Lady,” Tony greeted me from beside the door. Then with an expression of fierce determination, he promised, “There won’t be a repeat.” He didn’t need to specify what there wouldn’t be a repeat of.

I nodded at that, as though I had perfect confidence in the ability of the guards to protect me. “Thank you, Tony,” I told him while silently reminding myself, “Poise and confidence…”

Almost as soon as I stepped into the house, I was met by Maddy Belle, who was officially hosting the party. According to Tessa, Maddy had organized the party at the request of some high ranking Family members who wanted to learn more about the new White Lady, but who hadn’t felt comfortable coming to me directly.

“I’m happy you made it,” Maddy told me with a smile.

“Thank you,” I told her politely, careful to keep a pleasant expression in spite of the fact that I really just wanted to run out of the place as quickly as possible. I knew that I was being a bit paranoid, but I couldn’t help but feeling like I’d walked into some kind of trap. I kept expecting the Messenger to burst through the doors again at any moment. And I’d only just arrived, which meant that this was going to be a long night. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Maddy nodded at that, then told Marcus, “And I’m glad that you came too…”

“You know me,” Marcus responded from beside me with a chuckle. “I never turn down free food.”

“I’m afraid that my husband is away on business,” Maddy told me as we went to the sitting room, “but let me introduce you to the other guests…”

I quickly noticed Alice and Tanya, two of the Hands and the only other people present whom I’d officially met before. Of course, I knew who most of the other guests were, even though I had to pretend that this was the first time we ever met. Then again, before a couple weeks ago, most of them probably didn’t know who I was and wouldn’t have paid any attention to me if they had.

One of the guests was Malcolm Prentiss, an old man with thick glasses and thin hair. Malcolm was a Family lawyer, and he had also been my grandmother’s personal lawyer. After I was introduced to him, he quietly told me, “When you have the time available, I would like to meet with you…in an official capacity. I have some paperwork that I need you to sign, regarding your inheritance and the transfer of certain funds and properties…”

Marcus leaned over and added, “Tessa has been working with Malcolm, to take care of all the legalities.” He looked at Malcolm and told him, “We’ll take care of that within the next day or two.”

Malcolm nodded at that. “There are some other things we’ll need to discuss as well, such as arranging a power of attorney until you’re of legal age.” Then he paused to give me a gentle smile. “But business can wait until then.”

I nodded at that, then went and politely talked with a couple other people while Marcus remained close, playing up his role as my regent, keeping the conversations from going anywhere that could be problematic. I wished that Tessa was there as well since this was her kind of situation, much more than it was Marcus’, but unfortunately, she had other business that she needed to take care of.

A short time later, we all sat down for dinner, where everyone was immediately served a glass of wine. There was a brief hesitation before giving me a glass, obviously because I was still underage. Several people at the table watched me curiously, wanting to see how I’d react. I just smiled politely and accepted it, taking a small sip and nodding my appreciation. This was hardly the first time that I’d ever had wine.

Both of my parents had been big wine drinkers, with each of them having a glass every night with dinner and usually another one afterwards. While growing up, I’d often been given sips from their glasses, and on my thirteenth birthday, I’d been given a full glass for dinner, for the first time. Ever since, I’d been allowed a single glass of wine during big dinners and special events, which considering my family, was fairly often. I didn’t really care for the taste, and I certainly couldn’t be called an expert by anyone, but I wasn’t a wine virgin either.

“What do you think of the vintage?” Alice asked me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Those were more calculating and thoughtful.

Tessa had warned me that this would happen, that the other guests would ask innocent seeming questions as they subtly probed me, attempting to figure me out. I’d come to the party expecting to be tested this way, knowing that the entire dinner had been set up just so they could learn as much about me as possible. Whatever conclusions they came to tonight, could have a large impact on our future relationships.

“It’s nice,” I answered with a faint smile, feeling extremely nervous from all this attention being directed at me, but knowing that I didn’t dare show it. I had to project poise and confidence, no matter what I really felt. “But I’m afraid that I’m still developing my palate.” There were a few nods from around the table at that, as well as looks of approval over my answer.

Dinner began to come out a minute later, starting with a salad and then moving on to the main course, which consisted of roast duck, ratatouille, and some creamy mashed potatoes. While we ate, conversation continued around the table, though I remained as quiet as possible. However, since most of these people had come to feel me out, they kept asking me questions and attempted to draw me into conversations. I did the best I could to be polite, without giving away too much. And fortunately, Marcus was sitting right beside me, running interference whenever the attention became too much.

When dessert came out, Tanya exclaimed, “I love chocolate mousse… It’s one of my favorites…”

“Mine too,” Maddy responded with a smug look. “This one has a little cognac mixed in…”

“Clarice was rather fond of mousse as well,” someone commented sadly.

The reminder of Aunt Clarice’s death, and by extension, everyone else’s, was enough to instantly turn the mood somber. For the next minute, we ate dessert in near silence, though Maddy decided to take care of that. She began telling a story about something her husband did, which was stupid yet hilarious. Before long, everyone was talking and laughing again. Everyone but me.

When dinner and all the conversation afterwards was finally over, I was relieved to say goodbye and take my leave. As we left the house, I gave Tony a brief nod of acknowledgement, then climbed into the car. Once the door was closed, I let out a long sigh of relief, collapsing from emotional exhaustion.

“Back home,” I told Dominic unnecessarily. The word ‘home’ kind of stuck in my throat a little and I felt a renewed surge of depression over the thought that I’d never be able to go home again. The safe house was comfortable and secure, but it wasn’t home.

After pulling out of the driveway, we had barely made our way down the street when I noticed something coming towards us from the corner of my eye. I snapped around and stared out the window, just in time to the other car, a moment before it slammed into the driver’s side of ours. I let out a girlie shriek as our car smashed into another car that was parked alongside the road and came to a dead halt.

“Shit,” Marcus exclaimed furiously. “Not again.”

My eyes went to Dominic, who was in the driver’s seat, right where the other car had slammed into us. The door had been smashed in and Dominic was leaned over, grunting in pain and barely moving.

I remained where I was for a moment, feeling stunned, confused, and terrified. Someone was attacking me again, and this time, I didn’t even have an armored car to slow them down.

“Not again,” I whispered, quietly praying to any god who would listen. “Please not again…” Unfortunately, I’d already seen that God had a sadistic sense of humor, so I didn’t count on much help.

“Stay down,” Marcus ordered as he held up a small machine gun and climbed out the door. However, he had barely made it out of the car when he suddenly went flying back in a spray of blood.

‘MARCUS!” I cried out in shock and horror.

I was breathing hard, on the verge of hyperventilating. However, I was somehow able to make myself move, and desperately scrambled out the other door as quickly as I could. But an instant later, I saw him standing there, just outside the car. He was a tall and thin man, in his late fifties or early sixties, and he wore a very old fashioned suit. In his right hand, he casually held a sword cane that was dripping blood from the blade.

“The Messenger,” I gasped, my voice shaking along with the rest of my body. I started in horror at the man who’d murdered my family, and who had obviously come to kill me as well.

“Hey boss,” another man commented from a short distance away. I hadn’t even noticed that he was there until he spoke. “It looks like she knows who you are…”

The Messenger stared at me with a grim expression. “Then mademoiselle, you must surely know that I am here to deliver a message. I assure you, there is nothing personal to my actions. I am merely the messenger…”

“Nothing personal?” I demanded, rage bubbling up enough to burn through my fear. “NOTHING PERSONAL?”

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms deep enough to tear through the flesh and draw blood, though I barely noticed that. I didn’t give any conscious thought to what I was doing, as my terror, fury, and desperation had all taken over. An instant later, my eyes and all the glyphs on my body began to glow reddish orange.

I screamed a howl of rage as I unleashed all the stored power in one burst, sending a massive wave of intense flames directly at the Messenger. The fire spread out in front of me, burning and charring the ground so that the asphalt on the street began to melt. The man who’d come with the Messenger was on the very outskirts of the flames, and his arm burst into flame, causing him to scramble back and desperately try to put it out.

After mere seconds, the flames that had been formed by my power faded away, the energy that fueled them having been completely used up. I felt a surge of excitement, of triumph that I’d done it…that I’d fought back against the messenger. However, that excitement vanished a moment later and I felt a surge of fear. The Messenger still stood exactly where he’d been when I unleashed my power, and he seemed not only untouched by the flames, but completely unconcerned by them as well.

“No,” I squeaked out, suddenly remembering that my grandmother had done the exact same thing against the Messenger, and it hadn’t harmed him then either. My eyes widened in renewed terror.

“Your magic has no effect on me,” the Messenger stated. “Your remaining time would have been more effectively spent confessing your sins to God and asking forgiveness.”

“So, you’re going to kill me too,” I said defiantly, wanting to run though knowing it wouldn’t do any good. I’d seen how fast the Messenger could move, and there was no way I could outrun that.

“I accepted a contract to kill the White Lady and all of her heirs,” the Messenger responded in an almost casual tone. “I completed that contact, though I paid a very steep price for doing so. Or at least, I had thought the contract complete until you appeared.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I responded sarcastically.

The Messenger casually took a piece of tissue from his pocket and used it to wipe the blood off his blade, though his eyes never left me. “Admittedly,” he commented, “it was embarrassing to have a new White Lady declare herself almost immediately after I told my employer that the contract was complete. And I find this even more unfortunate due to the fact that my daughter was killed in the process.”

“Hey boss,” other man called out. “I hear sirens, so you should probably finish up so we can go.”

The Messenger nodded to the other man, then told me, “I am a professional, so I refuse to take these setbacks personally. After all, I myself do not want you dead. I have no personal issue with you, one way or another. I am merely the messenger who delivers the will of another.”

I just glared at the Messenger, wishing that I could think of something witty and clever to say in response. If this had been an action movie, or even a Darius Shepard book, I’d have a great one-liner ready. But instead, I just turned and ran.

An instant later, the Messenger was standing in front of me with his sword against my throat. I froze, my whole body shaking in fear. This was it. I was about to die, just like everyone else.

“Fortunately for you,” the Messenger told me in a calm and even voice, “you have a brief respite. You see, mademoiselle, it would serve my professional reputation poorly if I were to kill you, only to have yet another White Lady appear. Because of that, we are going to have a nice long discussion concerning any other heirs who might potentially inherit your power once you are gone.”

“BOSS,” the other man called out again. “We’ve got to go.”

The Messenger nodded to him, then told me, “If you cause me any difficulties, I will not hesitate to kill you instantly. If you cooperate, then you continue to breathe for a little longer.” And with that, he kept his blade close to my throat and directed me towards a waiting van.

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Sunday evening, August 7th, 2016

I sat in the back of a van, a prisoner, surrounded by people who wanted to kill me. The Messenger crouched down beside me, keeping the blade of his sword cane close to my throat, ready to slice through it at a moment’s notice. He’d already made it perfectly clear that he was going to kill me when he was done, though I was in absolutely no hurry to speed that up.

In the passenger seat of the van sat one of the Messenger’s men, the one whose arm I’d burned when I’d unleashed the power of my built in fire spell. He’d removed his jacket before the flames had done too much damage, but he obviously held a grudge. He kept glaring back at me, making sure that I saw the gun he was holding.

Though I’d never met the driver before, I was pretty sure that he wanted me dead as well. After all, he seemed to be hitting every single pothole in the road, and each one made me bounce a little. Considering the fact that I had a sword to my throat, he might as well have been shooting at me.

I sat as still as I could, biting my lip and trying hard not to show how scared I was. The man who’d murdered my family in front of me had a sword to my throat, and he was going to kill me next. I felt a little resigned, almost relieved in a twisted kind of way. Somehow, I’d survived when everyone else had died, and it seemed that fate had finally caught up to me.

“When my employer heard that there was a new White Lady,” the Messenger commented in a casual tone, almost as though he was discussing the weather, “he thought you were an impostor…that the Family was bluffing about having a new leader.”

“And that’s why you came after me?” I asked quietly. “To prove whether or not I was real?”

“No,” the Messenger responded with a faint shake of his head. “My employer used Overstrike to confirm that. Afterwards, he contacted me to complete the work I’d been contracted for.”

For a moment, I just stared at the Messenger, absorbing what he told me. Then I cautiously asked, “Who is your employer? Who hired you to kill my family…?” My voice shook as I spoke, though I was trying hard to keep it steady. Tears threatened to come, though they held back…barely.

The Messenger frowned slightly. “Telling you who my client is wouldn’t be very professional.”

I gulped at that, knowing that this was probably my only chance to find out for sure. I wanted…I NEEDED to know who ordered the hit on my family. The Messenger and his daughter had murdered my parents, my sister, my grandmother, and everyone else, but I needed to know who ordered it.

“How…how can you deliver a message properly,” I asked carefully, “if you don’t even say who it’s from?”

The Messenger smiled faintly at that, as though amused by my question. “Very well,” he responded after several seconds. “Since you won’t be telling anyone, I see no harm. As you said, it is only appropriate that you know who sent the message.” He paused for a moment before stating, “The originator is Scorn.”

“Scorn,” I said flatly. That answer wasn’t the least bit surprising. The Messenger didn’t even need to tell me why Scorn had ordered the hit, since I’d already known he and his organization were trying to move in on the Family’s business. However, suspecting Scorn and having confirmation that he’d ordered the hit were two different things. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, mademoiselle,” the Messenger responded.

When we reached our destination, the Messenger gestured for me to exit the van, though he kept close enough that he could kill me in an instant. From the way the other two men were following with their guns ready, even if I was somehow able to slip away from the Messenger, I wouldn’t avoid them.

We were led inside an old abandoned building, something that looked like it might once have been factory. The floors were old concrete, the walls were cinder block, and some of the doors we passed were thick and made of metal. I shuddered as I looked around, knowing exactly why the Messenger had picked this place. If I screamed, no one would possibly be able to hear me.

“Now then,” the Messenger finally announced. “I have questions that I need you to answer. You know what those questions are, and if you cooperate and answer them right now, this will go much more easily for you. “

I lifted my chin, trying to look brave though I was terrified. Still, this was about the only defiance I could muster at the moment, or at least the only kind that wouldn’t get me killed instantly. “If I tell you, you’ll let me go?”

“I doubt you would be foolish enough to believe that promise,” the Messenger told me, sounding almost apologetic. “You know I have no choice but to kill you. It isn’t personal, just a message that must be delivered. However, if you cooperate, I will make it as quick and painless as possible, and I will even arrange for the Family to find your body so you can be buried properly.”

I bit my lip at that, trying to keep myself from shaking. If I’d been a bit more brave, I might have spat in his face or responded with some kind of sarcastic comment like, “That’s mighty generous of you.” However, I remained silent, not trusting myself to say anything.

Just then, the Messenger’s cell phone began to ring. He answered the phone, though kept his blade ready and his attention on me. After listening for a moment to whoever had called, he announced, “It seems that we will have to delay our questioning for a little longer.”

Again, this would have been the perfect time for Darius Shepard to make another sarcastic comment, but I couldn’t think of a good response. Instead, I just glared at the Messenger, trying to decide if I should spit on him or not. But without warning, he suddenly slashed out with his sword, slicing at my thigh. I screamed in pain, but before the sound even began leaving my throat, he stabbed me through my other thigh as well. I collapsed to the ground, screaming.

“This should keep her from attempting anything until I’m ready,” the Messenger commented, casually using some tissues to wipe the blood off his blade. Then as he sheathed his sword back into the cane, he gestured to room beside us and told his men, “Lock her in there until I am ready to deal with her. And keep a close watch on her. She may be young and injured, but she is still the White Lady.”

With that, the Messenger turned and walked away, talking on his cell phone. The two men grabbed my arms and pulled me into the room, with one of them keeping his gun pointed at my head just so that I didn’t take this as an opportunity to try something. Seconds later, I was unceremoniously dropped into the middle of the floor, with a heavy metal door locking me inside.

I curled up on the hard floor, holding my injured thighs and crying in fear and pain. I was going to die. The Messenger was going to murder me, just like he’d murdered Mom, Dad, and Paige. Images of their bloody deaths flashed through my mind, filling me with renewed grief. Soon, I was going to join them, just as I should have done that night a couple weeks ago.

This continued for several minutes, until the tears started to dry up and a new thought began to form. I didn’t want to die. In spite of how twisted my entire life had become, I wasn’t ready to just lay down and die. I wasn’t ready to give up and let the Messenger take me without a fight.

As I thought of the Messenger and what he’d done, my anger began bubbling up again. I grimaced in determination, knowing that I couldn’t just let him get away with what he’d done. I couldn’t let Scorn get away with it.

“They’re going to pay,” I promised myself as I slowly sat up. “But first…”

I looked around the small room I was in, noting the concrete floors and cinder block walls. It looked like it had probably been some kind of storage room. My eyes went to the closed metal door, which was presumably, locked. Of course, even if the door had been open, it wouldn’t have done me much good, not with my legs injured.

That thought brought the realization that my legs weren’t hurting quite as bad. In fact, the bleeding had already stopped. I was confused by that for a moment, until I remembered the healing magic that was permanently bound to me. I was already healing.

My legs were healing, but they still hurt. I pulled myself towards the door and checked it, just to make sure. As I’d expected, the door was firmly locked. However, that didn’t deter me. I knew a rune that might get me through the door…if I had something to write it with.

I muttered a few quiet profanities, silently promising myself that if I got out of this, I was never going go anywhere without a marker and some chalk. Unfortunately, that didn’t do me any good at the moment. I looked around the small room, desperate for something I could use to draw a rune with. After several seconds, my eyes settled on the puddle of blood that I’d left.

“Blood,” I whispered, suddenly realizing that it was perfect. I could draw the rune in my own blood. After all, that was what my grandmother had used for her final spell. A moment later, I remembered a detail from my book and began to grin. “Perfect.”

With that, I went to work, using my own blood to draw a symbol on the door. I took my time, being careful to get it perfect, because I couldn’t afford to screw it up, not now. And when I was finished, I drew a different rune on the floor, right in front of the door.

“Please work,” I prayed to any god who was listening. Then I took a deep breath and pushed essence into each of the runes.

I stared at the door, watching expectantly as the magic began to work. At first, rust spots began to form around the symbol I’d drawn, but it quickly spread over the entire door. With every passing second, the metal rusted further and further until the door practically disintegrated right before my eyes.

I almost felt giddy with excitement at the fact that it had worked, but of course, I’d had a little help. According to my book, drawing a rune with your own blood had a very special benefit. Specifically, when I used my own blood, it created a link between myself and the rune, which allowed me to transfer my essence and will into it much more directly and efficiently. This not only made the spell more energy efficient, but also gave me more bang for my buck.

For a moment, I just stared at the ruins of the door, though I quickly remembered that there were still armed gunmen to worry about. Instead of rushing out the door, I scrambled back to the far end of the room, just an instant before one of the gunmen came rushing through the now open doorway. It was the same man whose arm I’d charred earlier. As soon as his foot came down onto the other rune I’d drawn, the magic was released in a large fireball. He screamed as he was engulfed in flames and staggered back.

I glanced to the floor, where there was now a black and scorched spot where the rune had previously been. That had worked even better than I’d hoped. However, it also reminded me that there were several other runes in my book, which could be weaponized the same way. In fact, one of them had even been described as exploding like a land mine.

“I’m definitely learning that one next,” I promised myself. If I survived this and ever ended up in this kind of situation again, I was going to be prepared.

My legs still hurt, but they’d recovered enough that I could stand and even walk again. I staggered out of the room, wincing with each step but not daring to slow down. I had to get out of there as fast as I possibly could.

The burning man was on the floor a short distance away, doing the ‘stop drop and roll’ routine while the van driver was using his jacket to try beating out the flames. But the moment he saw me emerge from the room, he dropped his jacket and reached for his gun.

“You,” the van driver exclaimed.

Before the word had left his lips, I’d already flipped the mental switch that unleashed the power from one of my stored spells. An instant later, my eyes and glyphs all burned with a silvery white glow. I could feel the air surrounding me, now under my control.

The van driver didn’t say anything as he opened fire, shooting right at me. I’d expected that and had willed the air to harden, creating a bubble around me of unmoving air. The bullets hit the hardened air as though it was a wall…or force field, though he continued to shoot until he emptied his clip.

“You can’t keep that up forever,” he snarled as he began to reload his gun.

“No, I can’t,” I admitted, feeling that I’d already used up about half the energy I had available for that power. I released the rest of it all at once, creating a powerful burst of wind that sent him flying back into a wall. “Now I’m out of gas.”

I continued staggering towards the exit as quickly as my aching legs would allow me. My heart was racing from the excitement and relief. I’d done it. I’d gotten out of the room and past those two armed guards. Now, I was almost out of the building and free.

I had nearly reached the exit when I heard a ‘tap tap’ sound that made me pause to listen more closely. A moment later, I saw the source of the sound, the Messenger was walking towards me, with his tip of his cane hitting the ground with each step.

“It seems I may have underestimated you,” the Messenger commented, stopping to stare at me with a grim expression. “I had thought that as a novice, you would be little trouble.” He shook his head almost sadly at that. “A pity. I had intended to question you, but now, I cannot afford the risk of you escaping. I shall simply have to deal with any further successors when they appear.” And with that, he made a show of slowly and dramatically pulling the sword from his cane.

I was terrified at the sight of the Messenger, but still furious as well. I glared at him as defiantly as I could while desperately trying to think of what I could do. He was immune to magic, so even if I’d had time to draw a bunch of spells on the floor like I had earlier, he’d walk right through them without a problem. Only three of my built in spells were charged, and only one of those might be useful.

“But I only need one,” I quietly reminded myself, flipping the mental switch to unleash the power.

My eyes and tattoos immediately began to glow green, and without even looking at my palm, I knew that the symbol which appeared there translated to ‘earth’. I immediately bent over and put the palm of my right hand against the concrete floor, and an instant later, the glowing rune on my palm appeared on the floor in front of me, about ten times the size it was on my palm. Then I unleashed all the stored power in one burst.

The concrete floor and cinder block wall nearby all shattered, and suddenly the ground itself began to move. The shattered remains of the concrete floor rose up and rippled away from me, like a wave in the ocean. The Messenger was fast, but even he couldn’t do much when the ground beneath his him suddenly began to move, throwing him back.

My power caused some serious damage to the floor and walls, and a single glance was enough to tell me that the building had just lost some serious structural integrity. However, I didn’t care about that at the moment. I didn’t even wait to see how well the Messenger was doing, but instead, turned and hurried towards the exit as quickly as I could.

Suddenly, a large chunk of concrete flew past my head and smashed into a distant wall. I snapped around, just in time to see the Messenger throwing another chunk of the shattered floor, revealing that he was not only fast, but a long stronger than he looked. Fortunately for me, his aim wasn’t very good.

The Messenger stared at me for a moment, then he took advantage of the fact that neither I or the floor were moving. He moved almost faster than I could really follow, and a second later, he was standing in front of me again. There was a sudden burst of pain in my side, and I gasped in surprise to realize that he’d impaled me with his blade.

“You are resourceful,” the Messenger commented in a casual tone, sounding almost as though he approved. However, he also kept his sword where it was, going right through my body. It hurt like hell, and it took everything I had to keep from screaming. “Again, I bear you no personal enmity or ill will. I am simply delivering a message from Scorn.”

The Messenger pulled his sword out of my side, obviously intending to use it to finish me off with his next attack. I glared at the Messenger, looking him right in the eyes as I grimaced in pain. The assassin was completely immune to magic, but I was out of magic tricks to use anyway. But then, it suddenly dawned on me that I’d been focusing so much on magic lately, I forgot that I had other tools available.

“You’re going to die,” I promised the Messenger, still keeping my eyes locked on his. I winced in agony, wanting to just drop to the ground and curl up in a ball, but that wasn’t a possibility. As hard as it was, I had to keep focused as I carefully reached my hand back behind me.

“Eventually,” the Messenger responded with a faint smile, seeming almost amused by my threat. “Everyone dies eventually.”

“No,” I responded grimly. “Now.”

And with that, I pulled the trigger of the small gun that Dominic had given me, the one that had been holstered on the back of my belt, where it had been hidden beneath my jacket. The Messenger had been so certain I was no threat that he hadn’t even thought to search me for weapons. I had the barrel pressed right into the Messenger’s gut and I continued shooting, even as he staggered back with a look of complete shock and disbelief on his face.

“So…you have some bite after all,” the Messenger gasped out, clearly in pain. “Well played…” He dropped his sword to the floor, then followed it a moment later.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring down at his body with a strange sense of grim satisfaction. I’d done it. Not only had I survived the Messenger, but by some miracle, I’d actually won. The man who’d murdered my family, who destroyed my life, and who’d haunted so many of my nightmares, was dead by my hand.

They say that getting revenge doesn’t really bring you satisfaction, but they were wrong. At that moment, I felt as though at least a little of the weight had been lifted from my shoulders. My own personal boogeyman was dead. I didn’t know if his death would bring my family any peace, but I was sure that it would at least bring a small amount to me.

I took a deep breath, wincing at the agony in my guts. But in spite of that, I felt surprisingly good. I felt…strong. For perhaps the first time in my life, I no longer felt weak and helpless. I felt strong enough to take care of myself, and maybe even protect others as well. At that moment, I knew that I might actually be able to BE the White Lady.

Unfortunately, with the adrenaline fading, my legs chose that moment to surrender and I collapsed to the ground, grabbing at my aching side and really wishing that I healed a lot faster. I wasn’t sure how long I remained on the floor before I felt well enough to really move again.

My side still hurt where the sword had run me through, but I wasn’t bleeding anymore. That meant I needed to focus on how to get out of here and back where it was safe. I looked at the Messenger’s body, then crawled over to it and took the cell phone from his pocket. Now I just needed to call Tessa.

When Tony and the other guards arrived a short time later, they found me there waiting for them, standing under my own power. No matter how much it hurt, I wasn’t about to let them come in and find the White Lady curled up on the floor. After all, that wouldn’t have been very good for my reputation. However, when they saw the Messenger’s body, there were a few words of approval, and I could tell that my reputation had just improved a great deal.

“Now, what should we do with him?” Tony mused as he kicked the Messenger’s body.

I glared at the Messenger for several more seconds, remembering everything that he’d done to me and the Family. Finally, I suggested, “Maybe he can send a message for us…”

--------------------

Chicago, Il, Wednesday August 10th, 2016

I was comfortably resting in Uncle Andre’s sitting room, reading over a new book that I’d just started yesterday. It was a spy story, set in Europe during the cold war, and told from the perspective of a Russian agent. I’d never heard of the book or author before, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. It was written in Russian and had never been published in the US.

As I read the book, I tried to distract myself from the fact that the Family leadership was gathered in the next room, discussing what to do about the Scorn situation. Though the Messenger told me that Scorn was the one who’d hired him, the assassin was now dead so there was no evidence except for my word. The Family leadership seemed to believe me, which was no surprise since I just confirmed what they’d already suspected, but that wouldn’t be enough for the Family’s business associates.

Of course, both of the Messenger’s men were there when he’d told me that it was Scorn who’d hired him, but I wasn’t sure if they were in any position to answer questions. Though they had both been alive when the guards came for me, I had been very careful to avoid asking about what happened to them afterwards. There were some things I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Eventually, the door opened, which signaled that the meeting had come to an end. Marcus came out first, moving very slowly and leaning on a cane. He’d survived the Messenger’s attack, but he’d taken some serious damage which had required a couple dozen stitches. The fact that he was moving at all was a testament to the stamina and healing power of the Loyal.

That same power was benefitting Dominic, who’d survived being t-boned by the Messenger’s vehicular assault. He had a couple broken bones, and the doctor was keeping him in bed for the time being, but he was healing pretty quickly as well. In two weeks, he’d be as good as new.

I remained in my seat as everyone else began pouring out of the room behind Marcus. I made a show of putting my bookmark into the book and closing it, then I slowly stood up, not wanting to seem too worried or eager.

“My Lady,” Robert said. “Good job with the Messenger.” He stared at me for a moment, then gave me a faint nod of approval before he started for the door.

Martina frowned slightly. “If the Messenger was still alive, we’d be able to prove that Scorn was the one who sent him…”

“Quit complaining,” Maddy told the other woman with a chuckle. “I for one am glad that the Messenger is dead, and it’s only appropriate that our new Lady was the one to take him down. Killing the man who murdered her predecessor can only help her build a reputation, and it will show that the Family isn’t helpless.”

“I still say we should take this to Scorn,” Debora stated grimly.

“But you know our allies wouldn’t support it,” Tessa added as she came into the sitting room, the last of the Family leaders to come through the door. “And if we go to war without their support, we leave ourselves open. As I said in the meeting, we have to be more subtle with our retaliation.”

“I’ll get some of my people on it immediately,” Maddy said in an almost cheerful tone. “We’ll find the perfect opportunity to hurt him, but for now, the message we sent him is a good start.”

“Yes, it is,” Debora agreed.

Martina, however, scowled and shook her head faintly. “I fear we may have given away our hand before we are ready. But what’s done is done.”

Maddy nodded at that, then turned to me. “My Lady. I’m afraid that I must be going. My husband is due to be arriving at the airport in a couple hours, and I want to be there when he lands.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” I told Maddy before she turned to leave.

Martina merely nodded towards me and said, “Farewell, for now. And be careful. Scorn may very well target you again.”

“Thank you,” I responded politely, then gestured to Tony, who had been staying close but mostly out of sight. After Marcus had become my regent, Dominic had taken over as my primary bodyguard, and now that Dominic was injured, Tony had stepped into the role. “I have Tony watching my back, so I’m not too concerned.” Tony puffed up a little at that.

Uncle Andre had sat in on the meeting too, though he no longer had an official position in it. He slowly sat down in a chair, watching me with a sad expression.

“The Family suffered a great loss,” Uncle Andre said with a deep sigh. “But my personal loss was even greater. That man killed my mother...my brother…my sister…and far too many others. He stole the lives of my relatives, even those who were just children…” His voice choked at that. He stared at me as he added, “I am glad that you killed their
murderer, though I deeply regret that you were forced to do so.”

I nodded faintly at that, choking up and not daring to say anything for fear that my voice would give me away. As it was, I was trying as hard as I could to keep from crying. Uncle Andre wasn’t the only one who’d lost a lot of family members during that massacre, and this reminder brought about another surge of painful memories.

“I wish I’d done more to him,” I said quietly, knowing that the Messenger had deserved far worse than what I’d done to him.

Marcus nodded at that, giving me a sad look. “Unfortunately, Scorn is still out there, and he’s still a threat.” He shook his head and let out a sigh. “I just wish I could have seen his face when he received our message.”

“At least we know he did receive it,” Tessa said with a sigh. “He immediately pulled some of his people back and shifted to a defensive position. If nothing else, he’s concerned about further retaliation and should be hesitant to try anything else for awhile.”

“It was a hell of a message,” Tony commented with a smirk.

“Definitely,” Debora agreed with a faint smirk of her own as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “But it got the point across.”

“And what message is this?” Uncle Andre asked curiously.

Tony burst out laughing. “We just sent the bastard a little warning.”

Marcus chuckled, though it wasn’t a nice one. “And we thought it was appropriate to have the Messenger deliver it.”

“Or at least his head,” Debora added, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side. Uncle Andre gave her a dirty look but didn’t say anything.

“We sent him the Messenger’s head,” Marcus explained, earning a look of surprise from Uncle Andre, then a chuckle.

“I think my mother would approve,” Uncle Andre responded after a moment of consideration.

I just stood there, not saying a word, though I felt a sense of satisfaction when I imagined Scorn receiving that package. However, I also felt a bit guilty. After all, that gruesome message had been my idea, even though I hadn’t been serious when I suggested it.

When Tony and the other guards had arrived after my fight with the Messenger, my bodyguard had mused aloud about what we should do with the body. I’d been in a pretty grim mood and responded, “Maybe he can deliver a message for us…” I didn’t have the authority to give any orders, at least not yet, but Tony had loved the idea and so had Marcus.

The others told Uncle Andre a little more about that particular message, though I tried to avoid listening in as much as I could. One of the reasons that I’d always planned to avoid joining the Family, was so that I wouldn’t get involved in this criminal business. But now, here I was, not only a figurehead for the Family, but also coming up with ideas for how to threaten our rivals. I felt nauseous just thinking about it.

After a few minutes, the conversation changed again, and Tessa stared at me with a grim expression. “Bianca,” she said carefully, “there are some things we need to discuss…”

I definitely didn’t like the look of her expression or the tone of her voice. They were about the same as when she’d told me that I would actually have to act the part of the White Lady and play the role in order to improve my odds of surviving. Whatever she wanted to talk about now, it was obviously going to be something I wouldn’t like.

“The Messenger is out of the picture,” Marcus stated grimly, “but Scorn is still around, and the chances are that sooner or later, he’ll make another move against you. We can increase your security and keep enough pressure on him that he’s too busy to do much scheming, but short of declaring open war on him…”

“Our options are limited,” Tessa added with a sour expression. “When you took out the Messenger, you helped to establish your position, but you also drew more attention to yourself, attention that could be dangerous for you.”

I looked back and forth between Marcus and Tessa, trying to figure out what they were leading up to. Then I glanced to Debora and Tony, neither of which knew the full story about my past. I frowned as I asked, “What do you mean?”

“You are still young and inexperienced,” Tessa explained carefully. “You need to build your strength and fully master your powers. If any of our enemies realizes how inexperienced you are, it will encourage them to act before you are ready. It would encourage Scorn to act more decisively.”

“And that’s the last thing we want,” Marcus added.

“I wanted to take the fight to Scorn while he was off balance,” Debora commented, taking a long drag from her cigarette. “But I was outvoted. Instead, we’re going to keep that bastard distracted and give you a chance to train. The Family needs you at full strength.”

“I’ve been training,” I responded, looking at Tessa and feeling a little confused. Tessa had been teaching me magic, and I’d been studying the book to learn even more from that

Tessa looked a bit chagrinned as she admitted me, “I can teach you a great deal about magic, but certainly not everything you’ll need to know. As the White Lady, you will be expected to know far more than a mere Hand.”

“And we still have the other problem,” Marcus told me with a scowl. “I don’t know how else to say this, but as long as you’re in Chicago, you’re in danger. Scorn has already sent people after you twice, and I doubt he’s given up.”

“So, we discussed these issues,” Tessa continued, looking just a little guilty as she glanced to Marcus and then Debora. “And we came up with a solution.”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously and asked, “What solution?”

“According to Debora,” Tessa explained, glancing to the other woman. “There’s a boarding school that would be perfect for our purposes.”

“A boarding school?” I blurted out in surprise.

“There’s a boarding school for mutants,” Debora explained, pausing to take a drag from her cigarette. “Apparently, they have a world class magic training program, they teach combat and tactics, which you’ll need to learn, and there is no way in Hell that Scorn can touch you there.”

“A boarding school for mutants?” I repeated, stunned by the idea that something like that could even exist. How come I’d never heard of it? Wouldn’t something like that be in the news?

“You want to send her off to some school?” Uncle Andre asked, almost sounding offended. “How in the world can we protect her if she’s off at some boarding school?”

“This boarding school has some of the best security in the world,” Debora answered, fixing her good eye on Uncle Andre. “Some friends told me about the place, and I did a little research before recommending it. Apparently, it’s strictly neutral ground, with some very dangerous players enforcing this…including the Syndicate.”

“The Syndicate?” I repeated in surprise. The Syndicate was a very dangerous and powerful organization, and one that the Family sometimes did business with. I never would have expected them to be involved in a boarding school.

Debora nodded at that, snubbing her cigarette out before she continued. “It seems that a lot of players see the school as a potential recruiting pool, as well as a place to send their own kids, so they all have a vested interest in keeping it safe. Everyone involved keeps the existence of the school fairly hush hush, but they make sure people know not to mess with the place. If anyone tries, they not only cross the Syndicate, but also the government and a bunch of heroes. This school is one of the few things that all sides seem to agree on.”

“That sounds…impressive,” Uncle Andre admitted, almost grudgingly.

“From what I hear,” Debora added, now looking at me, “the school is damn expensive, but well worth the cost. Like I said, they’ve got great security, so we won’t have to worry about assassination attempts while you’re there, and they can help you get stronger.”

“I don’t know much about mutants,” Marcus admitted as he slowly sat down in a chair, looking pained from his still healing injuries. “But if this school is even half what Debora says, then it should be the perfect place for you.” He shrugged at that, or at least tried to since it quickly turned into a wince. “Of course, it’s up to you.”

“I honestly believe that this school is your best option,” Tessa told me with a serious expression. “At this school, you’d be anonymous…just another student. No one there needs to know anything about you being the White Lady. Our enemies won’t know where you are, and you’ll be completely out of their reach. This will give you the opportunity to train in peace, without the added pressures that come from your position.”

I stared at Tessa, reading between the lines and understanding what she hadn’t actually said as well. If I went to this school, not only would I be out of Scorn’s reach, but I’d be away from the Family as well. This meant that I wouldn’t have to constantly present the appropriate image so that the Family would see me as strong and capable. I’d still be stuck as a girl, as a freaky looking girl, but I wouldn’t have to play the role of the White Lady…at least not all the time. In fact, it would give me a chance to get used to what I’d become, and perhaps even discover who I was now that I was no longer Bryan.

Uncle Andre leaned forward onto his cane and stared at Debora for a moment before nodding faintly, apparently deciding to trust her judgment about the school. “If this school is everything you say,” he said carefully, “then I’m all for it.” His eyes shifted over to me. “I’ve already lost too many family members, and I don’t want to risk losing you too. Besides, this boarding school will have to be a lot less confining than being stuck hiding out in a safe house.”

While they continued to discuss this school, my attention turned to what they’d already said about it, and how they were all encouraging me to go. It seemed strange that a meeting about how to deal with Scorn had somehow turned into a conversation about how to deal with me. If it had just been Debora suggesting this, I would have suspected that this was just a way for the Family leadership to get me out of the way for awhile. However, I trusted Tessa, and especially Marcus. Before all this happened, Marcus was the only person who’d ever seemed to care about me, which was why I’d picked him as my regent. If he thought that this was a good idea, then it was because he really did think it was the best thing for me.

I had to admit, it sounded like there really were a lot of good things about this boarding school. For one, I’d be safe from Scorn and his assassins, and I wouldn’t be stuck hiding in the safe house anymore. I’d be able to go back to school and continue my education, which I’d thought was no longer an option because of the way I looked. I’d be able to continue learning magic, and I’d be able to learn more about being a mutant and how my avatar power worked.

But of all the reasons they’d given me to attend this school, the most appealing one was that I’d be able to escape the Family’s constant attention and expectations. I’d be virtually anonymous…just one student among a few hundred. If I went to this school, no one would know who I really was. No one would know about Bryan, or even about the White Lady. For once, I’d have a chance to discover who Bianca was in peace.

Of course, I was a practical person and couldn’t help but considering the negatives of the situation as well. For one, I’d be on my own, without much Family support. I’d be in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people I didn’t know or trust, relying on strangers to protect me instead of the Loyal. I hadn’t realized until that moment, that getting away from the Family could be so dangerous…and frightening.

I was still considering the positives and negatives when a loud ‘caw’ made me jump. My attention was immediately drawn to the corner of the room, where Lenore was perched, watching me intently. I was a bit surprised to see her since I hadn't noticed her sitting there until now.

“Lenore, old girl,” Uncle Andre greeted the bird. “What are you doing here?” I noticed that he hadn’t asked how she’d gotten into the house. From what I’d seen, Grandmother’s familiar went where she wanted, and she didn’t have any problem getting around locked doors. She responded by giving another caw, ruffling her feathers, then she continued to stare at me.

I felt chills run down my spine as I stared back at the bird, wondering if she was here to add her two cents to the conversation. Or maybe, she was here as some kind of omen. Ravens were often considered to be omens of bad luck, but Lenore was a white raven. Did that mean she was an omen of good luck? Considering the fact that she’d been present when my family had been murdered, I doubted that very much. Still, I was sure that Lenore had come for a reason.

“Do you think I should go to this school too?” I asked Lenore. I wasn’t too surprised when she nodded agreement, then let out a quiet ‘caw’, which sounded like an acknowledgement. I let out a sigh and wryly asked Marcus, “How can I argue with that?”

“Lenore is no ordinary bird,” Uncle Andre reminded me. He stared at Lenore, perhaps wondering what her reasons were.

I nodded at that and let out a long sigh, knowing that Uncle Andre was right. Lenore was definitely not an ordinary bird. If my grandmother’s familiar, and the three people I trusted most, all recommended that I go to this school, how could ignore that?

“All right,” I said, standing up straight and trying to show the poise and confidence required of the White Lady. “What is the name of this school I’m going to be attending?”

Lenore let out another ‘caw’, which somehow sounded pleased, while Marcus and Tessa both seemed to relax a little. Debora casually pulled out another cigarette and fixed me with her good eye before answering, “Whateley Academy.”

The End