Chapter 4

Fall 2220: Invarnash, New Florida Territory

"Fight, fight, fight!" The chant from the gathered students echoed loudly in the cafeteria. They stared at the two combatants in the middle.

It wasn't the crowd that worried Laylah Le Croix. No, what bothered her was the spiked heel of Violet Spritz's boot that pressed against her chest, right above her heart. She was so tired of this! Why did Violet dislike her? As far as she knew, she'd never harmed the other girl in any way, but that didn't seem to matter. Even avoiding her nemesis didn't help.

Violet's eyes glittered with malice. "How many times do I have tell you, you little red-haired, brown-skinned freak, not to look my way?" She tossed her hair away from her face. "Hey, stupid. I'm talking to you!" Violet snapped her fingers in front of Laylah's face. "Stay away from my man or you'll be sorry."

"Vi, get off her. She's my biochemistry tutor. If you beat her up, she'll get reassigned to someone else and I'll fail. And it will be you my father blames. I'm sure you don't want that to happen," Jared Lang calmly pointed out as he stepped through the circle and up to Violet.

With a final glare and a toss of her golden locks over her shoulder, Violet slowly moved her foot away. "You're lucky, geek girl, that I have things to do today." She snagged Jared's hand. "C'mon, we have to go." He didn't resist as she dragged him past the disappointed onlookers.

Laylah stayed in place, careful to breathe slowly. She was sure to have a bruise after this little incident. She acutely felt the stares of the other students and wished heartily that she were somewhere else.

"What y'all staring at? Go on, git!" A plump brown-haired girl pushed aside some of the lingering bystanders.

Several boys groaned. "Aw, Britta, don't spoil the moment!"

Britta put her hands on her hips and glared. The boys gave her dirty looks but stepped back. She shook her head, exasperated. "I swear, Laylah, I leave you alone for one second and you get into trouble!"

Britta tsked Laylah and picked up Laylah's dropped books. Ignoring the irritated looks of other students returning to their lunches, she pulled Laylah to her feet and dusted her off. "What was Violet's problem this time?"

"I don't know, same as usual. I'm not a mind reader. Britta, I was only going to sit down in our spot. Violet pounced before I made it there." Nervously, Laylah tugged at her braid.

Britta Newsome was Laylah's self-appointed bodyguard and best friend. They were extremely close and Laylah cherished the friendship they shared. No one messed with Britta, not even Violet.

The same, however, could not be said for Laylah. No one was afraid of her. Citrus Academy's various bullies always seemed to find time to torment her.

"Hello, Earth to Laylah."

She blinked, her gaze focusing on her friend. "Sorry, Britta. I was thinking."

"Yes, I noticed. Maybe if you did less thinking and more self-defense, I wouldn't have to save your butt all the time." Britta handed the books to her and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Laylah's ear. "You look a little less hassled. But really, Laylah, we have to do something about your clothes."

"Ha, ha. Aren't you the funny one?" Laylah gave Britta a sour look before running her hands down her clothes, uselessly trying to get the dirt stains off.

"I'm saying, Chica, you should take a self-defense course next semester. It'll make Violet and her cronies think twice before messing with you."

"You know Father won't let me, Brit."

Britta snorted in disgust and put her hands on Laylah's shoulders, giving her a small shake. "Chica, honey, you're 17, practically an adult. It's 2220, not 2100. This isn't the dark days of New Florida's past. Daddy Dearest shouldn't be telling you what to do. Suggesting, yes. Telling, no. Unless you make him change the way he treats you, he's going to keep viewing you as a child."

"I know. I know! Look, I'll think about it, okay? I want to eat. We've got fifteen minutes left and my next class is History. I can't be late for it."

Britta threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, then! Change the subject. It still isn't going to make a difference with your problem. Remember, striking first is best." Britta slid her arm through Laylah's and headed for their table.

Laylah grimaced. Britta was right, like always. Things did need to change, but she couldn't seem to get her father to understand that. Hurrying, she finished her food and the friends ran to history class. Britta made it in first, as the late bell rang. Laylah was behind her and slid into her seat, but wasn't fast enough to avoid Mr. Mozar's stern glance.

She slumped in her seat, relieved that, for the moment, he wasn't going to berate her. Her history professor did not tolerate tardiness, no matter what excuse.

"Today, Class, we will discuss the history of how our ancestors settled New Terra in 2105."

A collective groan was heard and quickly silenced. Mr. Mozar turned on the 3-D display and dimmed the lights. "I expect good notes to be taken for the quiz and five-part test you will be given on this topic at the end of the week."

Laylah only half-listened. Her mind was pondering the problem of Violet. She really did try to escape the other girl's viciousness but kept failing miserably. She wasn't sure why her red hair and skin color bothered Violet so much. If anything, she was envious of Violets blond locks and pale skin. If only there was a way…

THWACK! Mr. Mozar's cane hit her desk. Laylah muffled a small scream, her eyes wide as she stared at him in surprise.

"Miss Le Croix. Last time I checked, sleeping was not listed in the syllabus for this class."

"Sorry, Sir!" Laylah stammered the apology, her face bright pink.

Other students tittered, then quieted at Mozar's glare. "No sleeping, eating or talking while I'm lecturing. Even the most simple-minded adult could follow those instructions. Or perhaps you feel that you know more on this subject than I, Miss Le Croix?"

She felt the heat of his beady little eyes on her face. "No! No, Sir! I don't feel that way, Sir." Panic crept into her voice. Laylah hated being singled out. Mozar was king of the tongue lashing. She'd experienced it once already this month and had hoped to avoid another.

"I don't believe you. Since my lecture is obviously too easy for you, Miss Le Croix, I want an essay on my desk tomorrow on the topic of the founding of New Terra and the issues its two very distinct settlers, the humans and the Weres, faced as they acclimated to their new home. Do...I...make...myself...clear?" Mr. Mozar leaned down so that they stared at each other eye to eye.

Laylah gritted her teeth, hating his condescending tone. "Yes, Sir. I understand. History essay due tomorrow."

"Very good. At least I know your hearing does indeed work. Now...." he turned away and continued with the lecture.

Laylah slouched in her seat and paid attention for the rest of the class. Britta kept shooting her sympathetic looks, but that didn't make Laylah feel any better. She bolted for the door the moment the bell rang and was out before anyone else. Literature class brought no joy and once it was finished, Laylah was first out again. Belatedly, she realized she was running and slowed down as she neared the pick-up stop.

Parked at the curb was her father's stretch limo. Elation warred with wariness as she approached. She frowned and then plastered a smile on her face when her father's head of security, Jacques Lyser, emerged from the driver's side.

"Jacques!" she halted a foot away from him. Her father had said he would dine with her tonight. She couldn't keep her disappointment at her father's absence from crossing her face.

"Hiya, Kiddo. Your father is working late tonight. Need a ride?" Jacques gave her his best woeful look and smiled when she giggled. "That's better. No frowns allowed on my watch." Opening the door with a bow, he helped her inside.

Laylah saw the smile leave his face when he shut the door. She knew she hadn't fooled him. On the drive home, he kept checking the rear-view mirror and it made her nervous. A nosy Jacques was always bad. It meant he would stop treating her like a person and more like an object. She hated it when that happened.

Soon the six-lane highway changed to four lanes and then to two. For all its modernization, Invarnash still had rural areas because the forest sections were protected under the Were-Human Compact of 2110. The humans had wanted the more ferocious and dangerous Weres away from their cities, and the Weres had desired to roam freely, unrestricted by human laws and ways.

The towering gates swung open and the cobblestone driveway flowed into the distance, the overhead weeping willows swayed gently in the breeze. A few minutes later the mansion was in sight. Jacques maneuvered the limo alongside the circular marble steps and shut off the engine.

"Laylah, we're home."

She stirred and slowly she sat up, brushing at the wrinkles in her school uniform. Sliding across the seat, she got out and stood, blinking from the late afternoon sunlight. "Thank you, Jacques."

She rubbed her eyes and gave herself a moment to adjust. Home. Yeah, right. This building before her was nothing more than a place she came to for rest and food. It hadn't been a home since Grand-mère Cecily moved to Tampah. Her father worked nonstop and, though Laylah loved Jacques and the rest of the staff dearly, she still considered them her jailers.

On her father's orders she wasn't allowed to leave the premises, have any friends over, and was absolutely forbidden to date. Any semblance of a social life was laughable at best. Britta was right about her father's views being archaic. On that, Laylah whole-heartedly agreed.

"Penny for your thoughts? Or maybe something else of value, since you look like you're burdened down with the world's woes," Jacques gently teased.

"I'm afraid my thoughts aren't worth anything to anyone. Thanks for asking though." Laylah knew he was trying to cheer her up but it was useless. She began the slow climb up the marble steps, reluctantly opened the door and entered.

She stood in the foyer, gazing at the elegant spiral staircase. The ivory railing was accentuated by the pure gold rose seam decorating its top and sides. The walls were painted a warm honey color in an attempt to offset the cold and masculine feel of the place. Marble statues and busts of deceased ancestors and other important family personages were strategically placed, instilling awe, fear and intimidation.

This was her prison; this cold and forbidding atmosphere seemed almost like a living thing. Beautiful to the eye, it masked the hurt and apathy underneath. Most of the employees came, did their jobs, and left quickly, unwilling to remain any longer than necessary in such an emotionally draining place. Only Jacques and Naiya stayed in the house with her. Even her own father spurned his home, choosing instead to live at his lab, content to work on some new genetics breakthrough.

Laylah had yet to make another move. She stood in the same spot for ten minutes, musing over the interior design of the house. She twitched when Jacques touched her shoulder.

"Yes, Jacques?" She couldn't bear to look at him at that moment, not when her feelings showed on her face.

"Naiya cooked your favorite meal today. She has it ready and waiting in the kitchen."

"Thank you. I'll be right back after I put my stuff away." She eased away from his hand and went upstairs to her room.