The Trophy Men

"Get up!" I throw my pillow at the mop of blue hair that never ceases to irk me. If I could, I would hit his face, but he has that and the rest of his body buried under a mountain of covers.

A groan emerges from the lifeless bundle, then silence.

"Don't make me have to say it twice," I narrow my eyes, crossing over to his side. I stare at the glittering blue that always manages to distract me, blinking annoyingly when it almost blinds me with its light.

He turns slightly, and I can now see his forehead and abnormally long eyelashes. Jealousy sears through me as I gaze at the portion of his face revealed. Isn't the girl supposed to be the pretty one?

On a whim, I reach towards him and punch the bundle as hard as I can. There are wretched moans as the man emerges like a butterfly from a cocoon, holding his arm in indignation.

"You could have just used a pillow," he scoffs, though still spellbound under sleep. He leans his back against the headboard, watching me. I feel almost uncomfortable under his endless, measuring stare.

"Time to get up," I state, shooting him a frightful glare when he makes no move.

"And why, exactly, is it time to get up?" he probes. I suddenly feel doubtful.

"Are we not going to school today?" I ask shakily.

He laughs heartily, sparking elation in even my heart. "No, Mona," he corrects dreamily, "today is Saturday."

I melt into a puddle on the hardwood floor.

"Are you serious?" I squeak, backing away from his form. He reaches out quickly to grab my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

"I'll forgive you," he says, his words slurred, "for a kiss." His strong hand forces me closer, elevating my heart rate until it's about to burst.

"Xavier!" I exclaim. He still seems to be half-asleep, yet smiling all the while.

Fright mounts as he gives a final yank, my lips inches from his. I have to stop him, but how?

With no other alternative, I punch him in the chest as hard as I can, his grip temporarily loosening. Using that opening, I tug away, running into the hallway as fast as I can.

Touching my heart, I wish for it to slow down... so I can breathe.

It is all a mystery. Why is Xavier making my chest pound so hard? Even a glimpse or a simple touch is spiking my heart. But it isn't love, I'm sure.

It can't be.

I try to block these suspicious thoughts from my mind, taking off down the narrow hallway like a bullet. It seems to continue on endlessly, door after door appearing until my burst of speed sputters and dies. Now I am hot and sweaty for a different reason.

It must be that "fake" love that sparks between two mates. The savage desire coursing through my blood is rampant, affecting my thinking. I can't give in to it, for then I will find myself under Xavier's intoxicating spell. It is the first time in my life that I am actually afraid of... loving someone.

Well, these past few days have introduced many firsts, so I suppose I should get used to it.

I finally wind up in a dark room. I straggle along the walls, hoping to find a switch of some kind. After a little searching, I finally bump into a strange, inanimate object.

Light blinds me as it floods through the room, the lamp shining like the sun.

I take in the granite countertops, the stainless steel appliances, the gigantic refrigerator, and luxurious oven with awe. It is so big, almost as huge as their movie room, and spacious. I rush to a small door with anticipation, and fling it open to reveal a stockroom of every ingredient I could ever need or want. It is big also, with a cooled section dedicated especially to meat. I knew their kitchen would be magnificent, but this exceeds all expectations.

Wandering over to an open cookbook, I gaze onto the lists of delectable food choices. My stomach grumbles annoyingly, and I at once decide to indulge in this fantasy world and make breakfast.

***

"Hey Mona," Wes pops his head through the doorway, his golden hair shining in the light, "what are you doing?"

I pause at the refrigerator, turning my head at the sound of his voice. I smile a little, grabbing a few eggs and shutting the door afterwards. Wes weaves his way towards me, his movements fluid and smooth.

"Breakfast?" he asks in wonder, "you are actually making breakfast for us?"

"So what if I am?" I bend my head in embarrassment, knocking one egg against the bowl to crack it.

Wes ignores this remark, smiling at me brightly. He reminds me of Xavier in his puppy-like behavior, yet I have a feeling that Wes would treat anyone this way, while Xavier doesn't care about other girls. Is this difference caused by the mating?

"I'm making-" I start after guilty feelings enter at my cruelty, but he interrupts me eagerly.

"Don't tell me! I love both surprises and homemade breakfast," he smiles, his teeth glistening, "Xavier will especially love anything you make. By the way, when I passed his room all the way here, he was laughing hysterically. So I was wondering..."

Yolk explodes onto the bowl, shell dribbling in shards down the side.

"Mona?" Wes stares at my clenched fist in confusion.

My hand trembles as I turn away to the sink to wash off the slime now adorning my palm. The water burns as it slips down my fingers, some splashing upon my face. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot wash away the blush from my cheeks.

I turn back to Wes, smiling awkwardly. "I'm okay. It was an accident," I attempt to reassure him.

"Are you su-"

"Yes. I'm," I take the beater and punch the glob in the bowl, "Perfectly. Fine."

"No you aren't." His voice is firm and resolute.

Bitter words stay captive behind my lips, beating against its confinements. We both look at the crumbled shell mixed in with the yolk in silence, I desperately trying to hide the redness in my features.

"I'll just... come back later then," Wes bows slightly, and then exits the room, his footsteps pounding through the hallway.

I pick up the clear bowl, trumping over to the sink, and pour it down the drain, watching the egg disappear once and for all. Irritation grows within me, boiling inside my chest. Calming is impossible. He tricked me.

Xavier...

What am I going to do with you?

***

"Oh, you're back," I smile as Wes leads the way into the kitchen, followed by a slew of werewolves. Yi has the bed head, his ruffled black hair sticking straight up. His eyes are bloodshot, as if he just had a bad night's sleep.

"Are you better now?" Wes asks concernedly.

"Yes." I gesture to the dining room right next to the kitchen. "Just go sit in there and I will bring out the food soon."

"You're amazing, Mona," Wes laughs, coming close and wrapping an arm around my waist. I stiffen a little, amazed at the way it seems completely different when Xavier touches me. Xavier tends to send sparks of flame through my body, while Wes freezes me like an icicle. With another happy-go-lucky grin, he sneaks forward and kisses my cheek.

I smack him on the arm, slightly angered but still playful. "What are you thinking, trying to steal a kiss from me?" I ask in a teasing tone. But inwardly, I am wondering why, exactly, I feel nothing when Wes's truly delicious lips brush against my skin.

"It is like a greeting with Wes. He kisses everybody," Jake shrugs, "all his girls. I suggest you get used to it."

"And I suppose you do the same thing?" I raise one eyebrow.

"We all do," Ray says, and then turns to Jake. "You haven't told her about the club yet, have you?"

Jake shakes his head, "I thought we were going to have to quit because Xavier finally got mated. I was going to close it for this week."

"What club?" I ask, even more curious because Ray is talking.

"Um, well..." Jake starts, and then trails off.

"We'll tell you over breakfast," Wes finishes for him, "don't worry about it right now."

Yi just stares at his shoes, not talking. What's wrong with him? It is as if he is afraid to look at me.

Wes looks over his shoulder into the hallway, and his eyes widen. "Hurry guys, into the dining room," he pushes them out of the kitchen with great force. As he exits, he shoots me a wink.

I take the French toast I had prepared and laid two on each plate. After scattering powdered sugar on it, as well as adding a tiny bowl of syrup and butter, it soon looks professional. After a healthy dab of whipped cream and a small strawberry, they are meals fit for a king. My cooking skills really haven't deteriorated.

"That looks really good," a voice murmurs beside my ear. I smile slightly, not looking up, drunk in my own pleasurable thoughts.

"Thanks."

"Where did you learn to cook?"

"I used to help at the orphanage. The cook would always give me extra scraps if I washed the dishes, and eventually she let me cook most of the food for her while she was the one to get paid. But I didn't mind, because the cook was nice to me... and it was better than playing with the other kids." I stop in my tracks, staring at the granite sadly.

"What happened? Ms. Penn found out?"

"Of course," I laugh shakily, "Ms. Penn knows everything. At first she wanted me to continue cooking so she wouldn't have to pay the cook, but then, once she realized I was happy to do it, she fired the cook and hired another one. She banished me from the kitchen for just being happy."

"I'm sorry," the voice sparks electricity in my blood, arousing desire within me. Wait... it is as if I am waking from a dream, the fog lifted, and then I look up at his face.

"Xavier," I back away from the devilishly handsome figure.

"You didn't know it was me?" he asks innocently, "I made no attempt to disguise myself."

"That's not the point," I say, anger boiling in my blood, "you were completely awake the whole time, even when you tried to kiss me? You laughed at me?"

Xavier covers his mouth to stifle another chuckle. "Oh, I thought you were actually mad-"

"What do you mean, 'actually mad'?!" I snap, feeling rather immature under Xavier's laughing gaze.

"I thought you were mad about something important," he clarifies laughingly. I punch him in the arm, and he staggers back a little. I start to see red, almost forgetting why I am mad at him.

"You're so mean, Xavier! Why would you laugh about one little mistake..." I punch him again, fury emanating from me.

"I laughed because of how cute you were," he smiles, stopping me in my tracks, "I just had to try and kiss you." My clenched fist hovers right beside his arm, all force evaporated.

"You get so angry and embarrassed over little things... I think it's adorable," Xavier winks, whirling me towards him with his hand and plopping his lips on my cheek. Immediately passion and lust arise, flowing between us both. I look to the ground, breaking away from his grasp. My breathing is heavy, face flushed. How can his kisses affect me so much?

"Are you serious?" my voice is tiny, squeaky.

Xavier nods, reaching forward with one finger and tilting my face upwards. He laughs in amusement. "You're blushing," he observes, a smirk slowly creeping onto his features.

I yank his hand away, anger sparked once more. "I'm not!" I protest uselessly, picking up a few of the plates hurriedly.

"Whatever you say," he says, voice dripping with amused sarcasm. I have never heard him use sarcasm before.

He follows me into the dining room, where everyone is seated and perfectly still. I narrow my eyes at the mischievous werewolves, knowing exactly why they are so quiet. "You heard it all, didn't you?" I ask, expressionless.

All of them, excluding Ray and Yi, break out into a sly smile. "Having a lover's spat?" Jake teases, elbowing Xavier who just sat down next to him.

"Just shut up," I place one plate in front of Xavier, then hesitate before giving Jake his share, "or I won't give you breakfast."

"Okay, okay," Jake concedes defeat, though still grinning. I place the other plates in front of Ray and Wes, then retreat to grab Yi's.

Shouts immediately erupt from the dining room. "This is fantastic!"

"I love French toast!"

"I love you Mona!"

"That's my mate you're talking about..."

I inwardly laugh, entering the room once more with my plate and Yi's plate. Yi is staring at the table, almost completely lifeless. I put the plate in front of him, and then gently touch his shoulder. "Yi?" I ask.

He tilts his head sharply to meet my gaze, anger in his features. "Don't touch me," he snaps, jumping to his feet. Immediately he turns away from me, facing the others. "I'm going to eat in the courtyard today," he states robotically, then picks up his plate and brushes past me.

"What's with him?" I ask worriedly, sitting down in his old spot. They just shake their heads.

"He was staring at you as if he had seen a ghost yesterday..." Wes points out, "and has been sort of weird ever since."

I take the first bite of my home-made breakfast, reveling at the sweetness I am finally able to indulge in. No matter how annoying Xavier may be, I still feel lucky that things have turned out this way.

"Let's not talk about Yi," Wes dismisses after a long, awkward silence, "tell her about the club, Jake."

"Yeah," I agree, "what club?"

"We own a nightclub in the city called Moonlight. It is one of the most exclusive clubs you will find anywhere in the state," Jake says, "and it is also how we make our money."

"It is also where we get our woman of the week," Ray interrupts, smiling.

"Ray... just shut up," Xavier cuts in. Ray lazily ambles from the table to the door, exiting to go who-knows-where.

"I'm done," he throws over his shoulder, and I look at his perfectly clean plate. How can he eat so fast?

"Anyways," Jake continues, "we only open on Saturday nights, and charge an astronomical entrance fee. All the rich and famous locals go there."

"Woman of the week?" I probe, to Wes's obvious dismay.

"Don't think bad of me..." he stresses.

"We enter the nightclub every two weeks and… auction ourselves off, if that makes any sense," Jake tries to explain. My eyes widen.

"A bachelor auction!" I exclaim, "is it just you guys or do you auction off more men?"

"Nah, only werewolves will do," Wes laughs, "we don't need any more bachelors than the five, no, four ones right here."

"Women pay serious bucks for boyfriends," Jake says, "especially if they are wanted by their other rich friends."

So that's how they have so much money...

I stand up while I listen, taking their perfectly clean plates to the kitchen. "So the money's not for charity or something?" I call from the sink.

"We say it is," Xavier says.

"And, you know, we do give some of it away. Maybe half," Jake grins. I laugh, although still a little bewildered. "We auction off boyfriend for the week, which includes three dates, our phone number, three requests, and a bouquet of roses. We all sell for big cash, though Xavier is king," Jake adds rather enviously.

"How much?" I ask curiously. I can understand rich women paying a lot of money for these handsome flirts.

"Around ten thousand to twenty thousand," Jake laughs, "although one time Xavier did sell for fifty thousand. Two women were feeling rather competitive."

"Fifty thousand!" I couldn't imagine that number in my wildest daydreams. I haven't even seen a fifty dollar bill in years.

"You don't understand," Wes starts in, "to get us for one week is the ultimate trophy. Our women get supreme bragging rights for the entire time they have us. Our looks are above ordinary, especially Xavier's crazy hair, and we are famous among the Moonlight attendance. We are like what you would call 'trophy wives', but are temporary and also men, of course."

"The trophy men..." I snicker quietly.

"I don't know what we are going to do without Xavier... it'll be an outrage among the women," Jake shakes his head regretfully, "let's hope none of us get mated as well."

I scan the area for any hint of Ray, and then I lean in slowly. "Why do women even bid on Ray? He's practically a monster, and so rude too!" I whisper, my voice lingering on the wind before reaching their ears. Wes bursts out into laughter, Xavier soon joining in. Jake is the only one managing to stay calm, answering my question smoothly.

"You haven't seen him around the ladies... and he is practically a mirror image of Xavier, minus the hair and a few other details. Many women think of him as Xavier's slightly less desirable double."

"So he sells for a lot..."

"Well, pretty much. It usually goes in this order, from least amount of money to most; Yi, Me, Ray, Wes, and Xavier. We all sell really close together though, except for that one fifty thousand."

"Wow," I say, "this is amazing. Do you guys ever get attached to your women?"

"Never," Wes says darkly, serious for the first time ever, "it's not allowed."

"But I'm sure they get attached to you," I grin, crossing my arms, "maybe a few stalkers?" I pointedly stare at the blushing Xavier.

"That's the fun part," Wes smiles, "no one knows anything about us. They only know us by our first names. . In return for being their boyfriend for a week, we make them sign a contract of strict confidentiality. They are not allowed to ask us questions about our past, family, or even where we live. They are also required to only use our number during the week we are their boyfriends. After that week, if they use our number they will be fined $500 or more. For many, it is like a dream with a rough awakening at the end."

"Harsh," I shake slightly. They truly are the pack of players. Xavier looks at me, and I suddenly think of a question. "Are you going to still auction yourself off?" I ask him, trying to remain indifferent.

Xavier smiles. "Of course not, Mona. I'm all yours."

I look away to hide my growing blush. Why is it that I always get red around him?

"You should have met Xavier before he got mated to you," Wes laughs, "he was a bigger player than I am now." I find that rather hard to imagine. Xavier... a player? Never.

"Twenty thousand dollars less every week," Jake almost moans, "it's very sad."

"Don't worry buddy," Wes pats him on the back, "I'll be your moneymaker from now on. Xavier, we got to find another job for you."

"Why wouldn't women want him?" I interrupt.

There is silence, then uncontrollable laughter. "I don't think you understand, Mona," Wes gasps, sputtering with chuckles, "they do want him. But wouldn't that be unfair to you if he becomes some other girl's boyfriend?"

"Hey Xavier," Jake smiles, "you should be partying right now. Mona just indirectly admitted she was attracted to you."

"Shut up!" I say angrily, and they eventually quiet down. Silence reigns in the room, each of us unsure of what to say. It seems to suit them; this glamorous lifestyle they hold. Their looks guarantee nothing less.

"Where is the person you guys almost killed?" I suddenly start up, remembering past events.

"In the guest bedroom," Wes says dismissively. I look at him in bafflement, and he laughs. "It's not like we have a dungeon to throw him in," he points out.

"I don't understand why you didn't just let us kill him-" Jake begins.

"No!" I stand up, banging my hands on the table, "I think I can force the shifter out of him."

They all stare at me, Xavier becoming rather distressed. "No, Mona, please," he starts, and then stops abruptly.

"I could access his mind, and I was able to hear the two voices. If I can somehow... further this ability, then I know I can save him!" I say determinedly, "then you will never have to kill another human again!"

"You can't think of them as humans, Mona," Jake sighs, "once they're possessed, their soul is as good as gone. We aren't murderers."

"But he was there!" I exclaim, and then my hand is fiercely grabbed by Xavier.

"We need to continue this conversation elsewhere," he whispers into my ear, standing up.

"Let go!" I struggle as he forces me out of the room. I am whisked away, super speed taking over, air rushing past me like a tornado.

We end up back in the garden, Xavier standing right in front of me, still holding my hands. Skies as clear as can be hang above us, a slew of colors in the flowers below. Everything is so beautiful, although now a piece of yellow tape stretches from tree to tree of the entrance to the path I had traveled before. It says DANGER.

Wow. They must really think I'm stupid.

"Please, Mona, forget about the man," he begs, "we'll take care of him. Worry about... I don't know... just don't worry about anything. You don't have to get into this."

"But I do! I can't just let you guys kill him while knowing I can save his life-"

"How, exactly?" Xavier says slowly, "How can you save his life?"

Time stops as I look to the floor, examining my shoes. "I don't know much about being a Spier, but from what I heard, it seems as if I could really help you guys-"

"No!" he says agitatedly, "you're helping us just fine by being right here."

"But even if I wasn't able to help you, rescuing that man... wouldn't that be worth the risk?" In my head, it is perfectly simple. I can't live with the fact that I could have saved a person and didn't. Why can't he get it?

"Nothing is worth you," he says with pain, squeezing my hands tightly.

"Xavier..." I sigh, "Please understand."

"I understand perfectly," he says angrily, his voice dangerously low, "and I'm not letting you blow your life away for a lost cause."

"You don't believe I can do it?" my voice is sharp, shrill.

He pauses, drawing a little picture in the dirt with his foot. "Mona, it's not like I think you can't, but it does seem rather-"

"I get it, Xavier. You don't want me to do it. You don't believe I can," my voice is low, defeated. I start walking towards the door, desperately trying to veil the determination bursting within.

"No, it's not that! It's just that there is a big chance you will die," he yells after me, "I... don't want that. Please, Mona..."

I reach the wooden door, turning the knob to swing it open. Without casting one glance behind my shoulder, I slip inside, closing it after me. It feels, strangely, as if I have shut him out forever.

I quickly banish that thought. Xavier will always be around for me, no matter what the situation is.

I hope.

Wandering through the hallways, I suddenly discover the faint outline of a man lingering against the stone wall. He turns, as if he is waiting for someone, slumping until he is sitting on the floor. There are a few moments of complete and utter stillness, and then he regally rises to his feet. The lights suddenly give out, dying against the overwhelming darkness, as he flicks a switch. He pauses, and then starts walking. Not knowing quite why, I follow him, almost hypnotized by the footsteps as they ring through my head.

At the end of the hallways, a faint light lingers, growing brighter with each fear-stuffed step. My heart seems to pound even more erratically as we walk, my steps mirroring his. As the light shines brighter on the man, the outline begins to be illuminated, and I know instantly who it is. He enters the room, deliberately leaving the door wide open, and I step inside.

"Ray," I say softly as the man stands before me.

"This is the library. Sorry about the lights, by the way, I was afraid one of those idiots would follow us," Ray wastes no time, getting directly to the point. He gestures to the piles and piles of books, stacking from the floor to the ceiling, the rows and rows of even more. It is a huge room, the books on either side, lounge chairs and a spectacular fireplace in the middle. Over our heads a truly stunning chandelier hangs, colossal with a ton of sparkling crystals, and a giant TV is mounted directly above the fireplace. It is on, the display of a computer showing up instead of TV shows. "That's our computer," he explains, "We just use a TV monitor."

"Wow," I gasp, awestruck, "this is absolutely amazing!" It is another dream of mine; a fantasy I never thought would be accomplished. It is the biggest collection of books I have ever seen. With joy I rush to the first aisle, marveling at their assembling of many encyclopedias, the informative books I have missed so much.

Back when I was a child, Dad used to have the most stunning library in the whole city. It wasn't nearly as big as this one is, but was stacked with an incredible amount of books. When I had turned five, I vowed to Dad that I would read every single book in his library. But of course... my promise couldn't be kept.

"We have the prophecy here," a beautiful voice murmurs near my ear, and I straighten slightly.

"Where is it?" I question.

"Right this way," he leads me into the aisles, skimming over each book like a searchlight. It is endless, the rows of books, my feet growing tired as our trek continues. They don't have the prophecy in a better place other than these aisles? From what I have heard, they seem to esteem it very highly.

When he finally stops, I pause too over a particularly thick book labeled Werewolves, Spiers, and Shifters: Complete Edition. On the front is a picture of a menacing werewolf poised over devouring a human and a human battling a truly horrible looking Shifter with a strange looking spear. I slip it from the rest, hiding it behind me.

"It's okay, we don't mind if you read it," he says, expressionless, without looking up from his task. He seems to be examining the spines of each book, looking for a certain title that belongs to the book he needs. I cross over to his side, noting now the true similarities between Ray and Xavier; their nearly identical looks except for the scar and the hair. All this time he hasn't acted like a sourpuss, which is a plus, and also a side of him that is pleasantly new to me.

He smiles as he extracts the book we need, a dusty one that isn't thick at all. The side reads Summer Kitchen: 100 Delicious Recipes and the cover is completely blank. I narrow my eyes at the slim cookbook, wondering if this is a joke.

"Trying to find some recipes?" I ask, crossing my arms. We aren't getting any closer to finding the prophecy this way, and although it looks useful, it isn't anything like what we really need.

His grin grows wider as he rubs his hand on the spine once, twice...

"What are you doing?" I ask, my anticipation subconsciously spiking as he does it again and again. He doesn't answer me, taking his strong hands and rubbing it endlessly. After I know he isn't going to answer me, I quiet down and just watch the slow, rhythmic movement, hoping for the best.

When he reaches the twentieth rub, he suddenly stops, and without looking at it, hands it to me. I take it, raising it to my gaze, and gasp as the spine now reads The Prophecy and the cover is adorned with a single green emerald.

Spellbound, I open to the first page, but it is empty. The second page is blank too, and as I leaf through the rest of the book, I find it is blank as well. I look to Ray, who smiles knowingly.

"Look closely," he commands, his words strong as steel. I oblige him, glancing at the first page deeply. To my surprise, when I stare at it hard enough, words begin to appear, as if writing itself on the page.

"There will come a person equal to a werewolf and a Spier, who also possesses an ability like no other, leading a complete pack, bound together by loyalty and friendship. They will defeat the red-eyed wolf, not without losing one of their own on the journey, and another will come to take his place. Through discord and strife they will travel, friendships and relationships forgotten, but they will succeed, destroying the red stone and vanquishing Shifters once and for all. Then the werewolves will vanish into the mist, their purpose served, for one cannot exist without the other."

"Is that all?" I ask, staring at the paragraph of craziness with disappointment, "I was hoping it would talk about a Spier being able to heal the people possessed by Shifters."

"This is the reason why we exist," Ray says softly, "we live for a purpose, and once that is completed, we die... and all you're saying is is that all? Seriously, Mona."

"I'm sorry Ray... I'm just a little disappointed that my question wasn't answered," I stare at the paragraph over and over, hoping for anything, but nothing is found. This has absolutely nothing to do with me.

"You know..." Ray lingers over my shoulder, and I get a whiff of his sweet-smelling cologne. "There have been very few cases of Spiers getting that ability. However, they profess it to be a very limited power, only able to use maybe once in a hundred years. I guess that time means nothing to them though, being immortal," he notes slyly.

"Immortal?!" I exclaim.

"If you survive, of course," he says darkly. We pause, suspended in silence. Being immortal... would that be a good thing? "You would be able to live with Xavier forever as a human instead of being converted to a werewolf," he adds softly, "which means that you can have children. Crossbreeds, of course, but still..."

"Children? Oh no, we won't..."

"That's what you think," he smiles evilly, plopping down in one of the chairs. I carry the book with me, sitting in the one opposite him.

"Why can't two werewolves have children?" I wonder.

"Because our population would grow too large, obviously. We are all immortal, so every conversion must be approved by the council. Crossbreeds, however, are more loosely monitored because they are not immortal, with an average lifespan of around two hundred years," he lazily kicks his feet onto the coffee table.

"Why did you show me the prophecy?" I finally ask, looking clearly into his eyes, "why are you telling me all this?" Xavier would never tell me what he is saying now.

"Because you asked," he smiles, "and even though curiosity kills the cat, it is better to let the cat know instead of keeping it wondering forever."

We sit in silence, I watching the huge computer screen, Ray absorbed in reading.

"I want to become one," I finally think aloud, Ray's head snapping up from the magazine, "a Spier... but Xavier doesn't want me to."

"It's not exactly Xavier's choice, don't you think?" he scoffs, looking at the chandelier above us. A pause ensues, tension stretched between us, and then he speaks again. "We can do it tonight. Xavier and the others are going to be at Moonlight, and the full moon is coming out today."

"You sure got it planned out, don't you?" I narrow my eyes, and he grins.

"I knew, from the moment I set eyes on you, that you would want to help," he shrugs, "and I prepared accordingly."

I think about the pitiful boy locked up in the bedroom right now, his soul swallowed by the Shifter. My father, how he looked before he drove us to death. The men on the mural, with eyes like fire. I can't just stay here and pretend like I can't do anything. I have to at least try.

And if I die trying, so be it. I don't have too much to live for anyway.

"I will," my voice, barely above a whisper, emits. Ray grins, and stretches out one handsome hand. I feel, suddenly, as if I am making a pact with the devil.

A thunderclap rings through the air as my hand grasps his, rain slipping down the windows, then falling to its death.