Now when I say taste, I mean, they just have to 'lick it' to be satisfied. I know. Toads. Normally there are tons of places to fulfill that creepy fetish, this is America after all, but sometimes some jacka.s.s will take it too far and rip off a limb or tear a nose off in the middle of their o.r.g.a.s.m equivalent. I could tell this guy was about to lose it on the chick beside him so I took care of it in the easiest way I knew how. A quick lightening taser to his back and he was out like a shot. I couldn't help myself, but like I said, he deserved it. I'm not sure he deserved waking up in the middle of the desert with no pants on but I digress.

It isn't like I've ever cared one way or another over what happened to the humans, but this a.s.shole sparked something inside me that made me want to hurt him. Really bad. I guess some humans are ok, but honestly, I don't really get why we keep ourselves a secret instead of letting them know where they really rank here in the Terra Wick.

The Register claims we need them to 'keep the balance', Blah Blah, insert commonsensical spiel here, but sometimes I wonder if slipping into another dimension might be less annoying. Strike that, I wouldn't trade humans for the Castra demons either. Those termites would eat your eat your eyeb.a.l.l.s for a snack as soon as look at you. And they actually do.

Whatever the case, I've been around the block a few hundred times and have been in better control of myself these past few decades; I guess I had the time to work on my inner demon 12-step program. Maybe I've been around too long, who knows. All I know is that right now I'm completely bored.

I thought a trip to L.A. might get me back on track to my fit full life of nasty vices, but I don't feel any better. I haven't gotten a real high out of scamming a human in what - two decades at least? I'm starting to think I'm going through a demon mid-life crisis. Is that even a thing?

Feeling a swish of cool air and flicking a 3 ton boulder across the meadow does help and I find myself genuinely content for the first time in awhile. Maybe I'll stick around town for a bit; I feel a strange attraction to this area, drawn to the energy or something. Must be the plethora of nature and earth. I feel most myself surrounded by mounds of dirt; so it's weird that I live in New York right? I can't figure that one out either, but I suppose it's a pretty sc.u.mmy city on the best of days and there's something about it that just makes me feel like I've come home.

Stopping in my tracks, I can sense it before I can hear or even see it. A slow tingle runs up my entire spine as my fingers begin to vibrate with an electricity, a warm sensation that can only mean one thing. Another demon. I'm sure of it.

I stop my breath and stand as still as the tree beside me. We can go for quite awhile without breathing, not sure how long really, but I tried it once and after a few hours I sorta forgot what I was doing and automatically started up again. It's a very natural body movement, pure habit.

I peer around the spruce to my right and that is when I see her, she's about 100 yards away running along a path that snakes through the woods and into the clearing before me. I can see every detail as distinct as if she was right in front of me (another demon perk), and man is she sweating bullets. And reeking of vodka? She's got a behemoth dog trailing after her and belting out some tune of which I can't even tell what it is; definitely not blessed with great vocal chords. I quickly scan her features, see if I know her; dark hair, good body, pretty face, but not one I can recall, thank G.o.d. I would hate to run into an old girl friend in a secluded spot like this. Especially if I really ticked her off, which is a very high likelihood.

I can't seem to put my finger on what type of demon she is though. She's definitely of my blood, but it's like a piece of the puzzle is missing. Maybe she's a newbie, incomplete in 'the change'? We all have a sort of 6th (or in some cases 10th or 11th) sense about other super naturals and her presence is glowing like a Vegas billboard, but confusing the h.e.l.l out of me. Strange.

She doesn't even seem to sense me near. Nor does her huge wolf dog. At least I hope it's a dog. I've heard stories of these h.e.l.l hounds from the Drema Wick that can sever your limbs in 2 seconds so that you can't run away when they start eating you. Fun eh?

This chick is panting like a beast but radiating a glow unlike any demon aura I have seen before. I can't tear my eyes away. Without thinking about the consequence of her seeing me, I absently lean forward and accidentally break a twig off a tree. Opps, she's down.

I stifle a laugh as she crashes in a heap, the behemoth animal skidding to a stop and plopping down beside her as if she just decided to take a break. She lays there like a slug for a few minutes before pulling herself together and sitting up on the dirt path. c.r.a.p, she's looking around for something, did she sense me too? Rule #3 in our demon handbook - we HATE surprises. I'm kidding about the handbook, this isn't some lame TV show, but if we did have one, surprises would be right up there on what 'not' to do to a fellow demon.

If I accidentally startled her, she might feel threatened and lash out with her powers - Lord know what they even are. She could turn my skin into scales, boil my insides to liquid, or worse, do something to my, ahem, manhood so to speak. So. Not. Cool.

Peeling herself up off the ground, she turns back from where she came and starts off on a slow limp. She seems completely unaware and unfazed by me at all. Wait, limp? She's demon, that fall wasn't barely enough to cause a wince. Definitely still going through 'the change' but she really should be able to feel me by now, I'm only about 50 yards away and it appears she has no idea I'm even here. Interesting.

I followed her all the way back to her house just outside the park perimeter, keeping my distance but moving noiselessly behind. It was pretty slow going with her skinned knee but I greatly enjoyed her tirade against that poor dog. Those particular curse words made even me blush a little. She ended up in a big old restored farmhouse and made her way into the kitchen to bandage up her injury. I guess people don't need to worry too much about privacy in the country; there were so many uncovered windows, I could make out the Star Wars band-aid she used.

I watched for a long time, fascinated by her. I even tuned into her conversations with her Dad and I just don't get it. She seems so clueless? Why is she living with a human parent? Her mother must be the demon donor but there were no pictures, no mention of her at all. Did she abandon her? This does tend to happen sometimes. It isn't easy for a supernatural to conceive a child and sometimes it comes as a bit of a shocker. An inconvienience they'd rather leave on the doorstep of The Register before they make their way back to the casino. But demon babies are so rare, and to have one with a human is pretty unheard of. I mean we tolerate humans and sometimes have relationships with them, but it's somewhat frowned upon due to the complications of keeping our existence a secret.

Demon parents don't have the same relationship with kids as human parents do. It's more a partnership of obligation with no huge emotional ties. They're raised as mini adults and home schooled with the focus on our demonic roots and exploring our gifts. We endure insane physical & mental training in order to properly harness the power and yet it's still an uphill battle as we constantly change and evolve. We reach our full power potential around 18 (post p.u.b.erty) so normally that's when the 'parents' fly the coop and we are left with an enormous ego and too much free time. We grow up pretty fast and don't need the same coddling as humans do. Perhaps we view it as a weakness and don't want to be compared to a human, who knows. I've never been a parent, so all I can go on was my relationship with my Father and dysfunctional doesn't even begin to cover that one.

A few things I did learn from watching this girl: a homework procrastinator to the extreme, drinks way too much coffee, enjoys a wicked amount of junk food, and it seems she was a little bit of a party girl the night before. Dad didn't take it too easy on her though, punishment included scrubbing every toilet in the house and garbage detail. Nice.

Heading into Alessa Heights was a real treat, blink once and you'd miss the amazingness of it. Yes, I mock. You've seen one small town, you've seen 'em all and Alessa is no different. Great to visit in the full swing of winter tourism due to the abundance of ski hills nearby, but living here all year round could become a little like a prison sentence. I prefer the big smoke, but I do get why people live in places like this. Typically, it gives them a false sense of security and they delude themselves into thinking it's the perfect place to raise their kids, get away from the big city lights and live the dream. Bull s.h.i.t. In reality, small towns breed serial killers and crazy Mother f.u.c.kers who will shoot you as soon as look at you if you mess with their prized rose bushes, believe me I KNOW. Don't even get me started on the teen s.e.x games either. I'm all for a good party, and I've gone back to high school now and then out of boredom, and these girls and the 'games' they play are sick and twisted - and I'm a DEMON! I can still pa.s.s for a high school student as we age so much slower than humans but it isn't as appealing as it once was.

There are some demons who get off on human killing sprees and believe me they LOVE tearing a small town apart with fear and hysteria. Chaos feeds us a high that is inexplicable, sort of like a super charged adrenaline rush. You have to know your limits otherwise it will consume you. A human on crack is like a demon strung out on chaos. There are a lot of us out there with no regret or conscience and believe me it isn't pretty. I have friends in high places and I know what goes on in these 'wholesome' towns. That is why I live in a big city. There's safety in numbers and as much as they normally don't bother with the likes of me (humans are way more fun to manipulate), I prefer to stay at arm's length and let them do their own thing, we all have our vices and who am I to judge.

I can see a bunch of humans congregating in the town square, maybe I could finally find a decent coffee shop. Getting out of my car I make my way under the cobblestone archway towards the incredible coffee shoppe scent. Perhaps all won't be lost today; I haven't had a decent espresso in days. Walking into this warm and inviting spot is a pleasant surprise. I take in the rich furnishings, the typical yuppie humans (who think that hanging around all day plunking on their laptops make them super cool - it doesn't), an oils landscape exhibit by a local old guy (which is surprisingly good) and a beautiful woman behind the front counter who has flashed me the most incredible smile. Man would I have loved to have met her about 20 years ago. The smell is here is Heavenly, or perhaps h.e.l.lish if you want to get technical.

"What can I get for you, Monsieur?" she asks. Parisian for sure.

"Well, quite frankly, I've been driving for days and would basically kill for a decent espresso. Any chance you would help a poor guy out? Avoid a murderous rampage?" I say, leaning against the counter.

"Murderous rampage? Dare I say that this quiet little town could do with some excitement," she says with a wink, placing her hand on her hip. "But you know, I AM quite fond of preserving my customer base, it just wouldn't be a smart business move and frankly the mess would be too much to clean up. How about a lovely Brazilian roast to curb your impulse?" she smiles, her french accent making the word 'Brazilian' sound really s.e.xy.

"I would LOVE one Miss."

"Miss? My my, you do know I could quite rightly be your mother young man?" she says while penning my order on a receipt pad. "Perhaps you should save that spectacular smile for someone who can truly appreciate it. I'm pretty sure Francine would greatly enjoy you; I'll send her out with your order." She looks up from her paper and motions for me to lean in closer for a bit of privy information. "But please be gentle on her," she whispers. "Her father is quite the marksman and has an impressive display of various mounted heads in his study, some of them even animals." She ends with another wink.

I like her instantly.

Francine was your typical beautiful but vapid young human girl. All legs, but nary a brain to be found. I found out quite a bit about my mystery supernatural though. Mom ran off, Dad never remarried, typical broken home suburban saga. My curiosity has been grabbed with this new demon, I want to know more. Need to know more. Lovely Francine has given me way too much info about her beloved AlessaU, and if my senses are bang on, she is scoping me for prom material. Kill me now.

I haven't felt like this is a long time though. This newbie is drawing me in - maybe that's her power? Who knows, might be a fun distraction to hang out here for a bit, see what secrets this little town holds.

I can't believe I'm voluntarily going back to high school though. Hunter would have a field day with this one. Maybe a little harmless corruption to get the blood flowing and chaos vibes brewing is what the doctor ordered. I downed the coffee in a few gulps and head out to find a hotel that isn't a s.h.i.thole. Heading west towards my car, a pretty girl in a flimsy mini walks by and smiles. I smile back just as a very convenient breeze comes up and lifts the hem on her dress a little too high. Don't say I never use my 'gifts' for the greater good.

Chapter 6.

Back To School STELLA.

"Ugh, what IS that? Chicken? I don't think so. Is that really what they expect us to eat? I am revolted and I think I just threw up a little in my mouth, did that slimy thing just move? Ham sandwich please, no cheese." Gabs like to pitch a fit in the caf line. She has done it every day since I've known her, and always ends up with a ham sandwich, no cheese. I don't think she realizes that the lunch lady doesn't give a rat's a.s.s what we eat, she's making minimum wage serving a bunch of ingrates. I'm sure at this point she spits in the ham sandwiches. I order the chicken.

"So mademoiselle Stells, have you seen him yet?" Gabs slides into the orange plastic chair opposite me and takes a swig of her cherry soda. We're sitting in the same spots we've staked claimed on for the last two years. I like the close proximity of the vending machines in case I can't stomach the main. s.h.i.t. I think the chicken really did just move.

"Seen who?" I peel back some layers and examine it a little further.

"You're telling me you haven't heard the whispers and sighs of every girl in this school today? I mean I can't go into the ladies without b.u.mping into ten chicks pancaking their makeup and hiking their skirts a wee bit higher than their underpants. New blood Stells, BIG news at AlessaU."

"I've been in an extended English cla.s.s all morning. An exam prep credit. I'm pretty sure I hate Shakespeare and all he doth stand for. Quit the cryptic, who are you talking about?"

"Well, well mon pet.i.t bijou," Gabs leans in to spill the beans. She's such a gossip wh.o.r.e. "I haven't seen him first hand but from what I hear, he is hot, hot, hot, with an extra topping of, you guessed it, HOT." She sticks her finger on her tongue to extinguish the sizzle sound.

"Really? New blood? Well I had better get to the ladies and pad my bra up real nice. Should I un-do a few b.u.t.tons? Offer him a Hummer in the science lab?" Gabs waves me off clearly irritated by my lack of interest in this juicy gossip game. High school dramas bore me. I can't eat this, I need some quarters.

"Suck it Stells, aren't you at least a little curious? I mean new blood could mean big things for you and your lonely panties." She's getting a lot better at retorts, I have to admit I'm proud.

"Let me ask you something Gabs. Even if I was curious, what do you want me to do about it? Wear short skirts and pretend I'm a big bimbo with an IQ of negative 4 just to get his attention?" she huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Well, I'M extremely curious - and you would be too if you would just turn around and Check. Him. Out. New guy, 2 o'clock. Hmmm, they weren't lying. Nice a.s.s, not my type but definitely a nice a.s.s." She lifts her eyebrows and motions her head to look behind me.

I slop down my fork and glance over my left shoulder. Let's see this bad boy. I scan the crowd, but it isn't hard once I locate him. Those b.i.t.c.hes don't lie. Holy mother he is B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L. He's chatting up Francine near the door. Figures. The way she's grabbing his arm and giggling like a school girl makes me gag a little. I mean I know we are ALL 'school girls' here technically, but you get my cynical undertone.

He's smiling at her, but not overly, only 'half paying attention smiles', checking out the crowd and scanning his fellow inmates. He's tallish, messy dirty blond hair. Nice build, very lean but you can tell there are some really great abs under that grey t-shirt. He's also sporting some very pricey Rock & Republic jeans and black boots - huh, good taste too.

"Lift your chin up off the floor Stells, I thought this was not worth your precious time?" She got me, I can't stop staring. G.o.d you are so pathetic Stella. s.h.i.t, he just looked over at us, caught being stalker girl. I need some chocolate. I turn around and fish for change in my 'black hole' bag.

"Goin' to the machine, want anything?"

"Nope, watching my figure, prom diet in effect!" she smiles as she takes a big haul on her extra fatty ham sandwich. Diet my a.s.s; I will never understand the starving yourself notion either. If you are skinny and miserable, how is that a good thing?

I turn and make my way over to the machines, better to focus on chocolate anyways. Coffee Crisp or Kit Kat? Both delicious but which would be better at filling me up today? I fear my poor chicken has died a brutal death and I can't let him suffer anymore. Hmmm, If only I liked Oh Henry, now THAT would be a nice hearty option - all those crunchy peanuts were sure to satisfy, or is that Snickers? As I stare into the window unable to make up my mind, I catch a reflection behind me in the gla.s.s.

"Definitely go for Coffee Crisp. It's a better bar to begin with and you might feel obligated to share with a Kit Kat." I half turn around and actually gasp. To be fair he DID just scare the s.h.i.t out of me, but if I'm being honest, that wasn't the real reason.

It's Mr. New Blood and he looks even more incredible up close. His skin is flawless with just the hint of a 5 o'clock shadow like he rolled out of bed and into a GQ spread. I could never get that messy hair thing just right. I think it takes a whole lot of work to appear that low maintenance, but perhaps it's easier for guys. His hair has these flecks of white blond pieces that seem to shimmer in the sunlight coming from the side picture windows and his green eyes are just so green. I mean I wish I could describe it better, but 'just so green' is about all I can come up with. A shiver runs down my back to my toes making my stomach do a flip on the way. His lips curve up into a half smirk, c.r.a.p am I supposed to answer something? What was the question? I clench my fists as they start to do this nervous vibrating thing.

"Um, Hi. You, ah, you're new here right?" I couldn't think of anything better than THAT? And Gabs wonders why I'm still single.

"Yup, my first day. How could you tell? Was it all the stares and pointing? The whispers in the hallway? Or maybe it was the fact that most of the football team wants to pound the c.r.a.p out of me. I just love being the new guy," he states, his face beaming into a full smile. I swear he's glowing. He's just spectacular.

"News travels fast in a small town I guess. Try living here your whole life, it sucks." I turn back to the candy bars, panic welling up.

"I guess high school sucks in general right? Have you made your decision?"

Decision? Decision on what? Who am I? Where am I?

"Um, still thinking; I'm bad with commitment." I can feel his breath tickle my neck. Yup, I'm starting to actually sweat. I don't dare look back at him.

"Me too." He takes a breath as I steal a look in the gla.s.s. He runs his hands through his hair, it messes it up even more, but in such a good way. He glances around the room trying not to rush me. My attempt at not staring fails miserably. I can't seem to tear my eyes away. I'm sure I'm imagining it too but it looks as though his green eyes that are 'just so green', just got darker, more intense. c.r.a.p, I've got to get out of here, I'm hallucinating.

He looks back towards me, the darkness gone and he's smiling fully again (definitely hallucinating). "Well, like I said, if you got a Kit Kat, you might be lured into sharing with someone." Definite pause on the word someone. "Coffee Crisp is a much sounder choice."

"Thanks for the tip Charlie," I start to push coins into the slot and I can feel my hands trembling.

I swiftly punch in E7, I have no idea what food it corresponds to. What did I buy? The metal circles rotate and a Big Turk falls to the tray. Great, I don't take his advice AND I buy the sickest bar in the machine.

I lean forward, grab the bar, and swiftly turn to make my exit, eager to escape but he's looking at me, clearly puzzled.

"Charlie? Am I not getting some kind of 'initiation new guy' joke?" he says.

"Well, umm, you seemed to know a lot about chocolate.You know, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Johnny Depp, Umpa Lumpas, golden tickets..." I trail off. "Sorry not an inside joke, just me making a lame attempt to prove we aren't all, well, lame." I smile at him to prove I'm really not insane and turn to walk away as fast as I can manage without a jog.

As I leave I hear him chuckle to himself and mumble something but I'm gone before I can register it.

Sitting back at the table, I'm grateful that Gabs was caught up in this months' Glamour and missed the whole show. I sneak a peek back his way as he grabs his bar and leaves the lunchroom. I smile a little to myself and start to replay the dialog in my head. Perhaps this new guy isn't such a bad idea after all. Whoops, here comes reality making a timely appearance. I spot Francine staring at me, no scratch that, glaring at me like she wants to peck my eyes out with her No.2 pencil. I guess she didn't take too kindly to me chatting it up with her new conquest.

I give her a half smile; prove I am not going to be a threat. She smiles back with a forced grin, not sure she's buying it. b.a.l.l.s.

Chapter 7.

Intuition GABS.

"Alright everyone, GREAT job tonight. I mean it, you're really mastering the 'Cross Body technique'. I love it!" I say, congratulating my beginner Salsa cla.s.s. I make my way through the group to the stereo as they prepare to pack it in for the night.

"Great progress Peter and Margie, you guys are doing really awesome, although you really have to keep your hands on her back Peter, not any lower," I say with a wink and a smile even though his pervi-ness creeps me out.

He sheepishly holds his hands up with a grin and a shrug as if he's powerless over his charm. Yeesh. Hazards of the job teaching s.e.xy dances to middle agers who mostly have good intentions. I say mostly for the women who love to feel s.e.xy and have a good time. They are typically so enthusiastic and excited to be here. It's the dudes who mostly have ulterior motives. Case and point with Handsy Pete.

I really do adore my job though. Latin dancing is so sensual and well, hot. When I hear the rhythm, it just feels like s.e.x to me. I'm at complete and utter peace in the studio and on the dance floor. I've been dancing since I was four and it's never lost its' l.u.s.tre.

I see Peter lingering over his gym bag and giving me the once over in the mirror. I suppose he needs a backup plan in case his efforts on Marg are wasted. I smile back and try not to crack a laugh - not in this lifetime bud.

Once the cla.s.s filters out, I turn up the music and do a few songs on my own before I head out. It helps me relax and ease some stress and boy this week I need it.

I thought it was so great to have that new guy come to town. Maybe Stells would come back to earth and land that s.p.a.ce ship her head has been flying lately. Not a chance, she's even worse then before. We've always been so close and these last few weeks' things are a little strained. Maybe it was my confrontation at Tonya's, I dunno. I know she's dying to leave this town, and I thought Mr. Lovely would be a good distraction. She's distracted alright.

I've always had a sixth sense about Stella. I just get her. I know what you're thinking. We've been best friends for like EVER and we know EVERYTHING about each other! Uh, no. Not the case actually, Stells and I never had that type of friendship. We never traded traveling pants for the summer, not even close. We're best friends, yes, but we also have a lot going on separately and I think it makes a friendship more meaningful when you aren't stuck to each other like glue. Don't get me wrong; I would do anything for her and her for me. We value each other's opinion even though we mostly don't share the same one. We love each other like sisters and I will kick the c.r.a.p out of anyone who hurts her. But neither of us were that typical girlie girls who had sleep over's and played barbies.

I knew something was up when McBroody came to town. He's just so dark and well, broody. Completely good looking but just not my type. I like my guys a little more exotic and tattooless. Outwardly he acts very clever and charming knowing full well he's G.o.ds' gift. But it's when he thinks no one is looking, that is when I see him for what he really is. I sense that all is not what it seems with him. It chills me to my bones.

It's like he's constantly playing a game, planning his next strategy for whatever he's plotting. There's something about him I can't put my finger on; he just seems sorta dangerous and to be honest it scares the s.h.i.t out of me.

She never admitted it, but the day he came to school was the day her bus ticket left town. It's like I'm talking to a brick wall when he enters a room. The lights are on but no one's home, ya know? I would never tell her this... well scratch that, I think I already did, but that is what friends are for right? He is SO not right for her. She's my best friend, I love her dearly, she's beautiful and amazing and all that, but he's out of her league and I know he's hiding something. He HAS to be. I can see through his facade and it just doesn't sit well with me.

At all.

It took me a few days to form this opinion and by then it was too late. I could tell she was smitten as a kitten and drooling over his every move.

I head to the change room to get out of my tight red sequinned dress and strappy heels and into comfy leggings and a long cosy sweater. Another bonus to being a dancer, the clothes are fan-frigin-tastic. John, my boss, has already left for the night so I mill about checking doors and turning out the lights. I throw my bag over my shoulder and head out the door and down the stairs. Ginger's is actually located right above my Mom's cafe; my parents own the building and lease the spot to John and Miriam. I need a ride home so I pop into the side door that connects The Grind to the steps up to the studio, and make my way to the back office.

Mom is immersed in some photography prints, the next installation I guess. An exciting new 'artiste', so my Mother would say.

"Hiya Mom, ready to go?"

"Yes sweetie, just give me a few minutes to finish up," she murmurs barely looking up from her task. I know that look; she's going to be at least a half an hour - great.

I head out to the tables and plop down on a big lounger by the front window. I heave a sigh and dig in my bag for my worn copy of Macbeth, better catch up on some English reading while I wait. As I settle into twisted tale of Macbeth, I'm distracted by a strange noise coming from across the square. Downtown is typically deserted on a Tuesday night; The Grind closes early and none of the shops are open either. The square should be dead empty by now.

The lights suddenly dim, as Mom starts her close. She must be nearly ready, nice, quicker then I thought. I turn back to the street to see if I can spy the commotion source. I have a good inconspicuous view from my now dark seat; the low lights give me a better view of the square. Peering past the fountain, I see a shadowed figure in the alley between Maggie's Ski Wear and the local Tourism Bureau. It takes me a few squinty minutes but I soon realize it's him. Asher Grey is just standing just over there, all by himself and acting really weird. What the h.e.l.l is he doing?

His hands are the only part of him moving, hovering parallel to the ground. It looks like his hair is flying about and his coat is just lifting right up like he's in a weird cross breeze or one of those simulation tornado booths you see at the arcade. Well, that's odd. Peering so close to the gla.s.s I'm almost pressed against it, I'm mesmerized by his weirdness. I don't even hear my Mom approach me from behind.

"Whatcha looking at honey?" I jump out of my skin with a loud "s.h.i.t" and knock my head against the gla.s.s. Opps, I said s.h.i.t, she hates it when I curse. Double s.h.i.t.

"Nice Gabriella. Would that be the language of a lady?"

Uh oh, she used my full name.

"Sorry Mom, you scared the Sh.., I mean, you took me by surprise. I was just looking, um... did you see that?" I spin back around pointing to the gla.s.s but he's gone. Did I imagine it?

"See what Gabby?" Mom leans forward and squints into the window. We check out the deserted square once more as Ash seems to have disappeared.