Chapter 3

"So," he asked, walking in a slow circle around me. "How did you get here?"

"I think it's obvious. I moved here." I growled, keeping an eye on him. He stopped facing me, drawing closer. I was frozen, completely unable to move. I felt his hair brush my shoulder, felt his cool breath tickle my skin...



"Thanatos!" someone yelled angrily. His head snapped up, his teeth bared. I looked over as well, seeing a boy dressed almost like the Night Class. The only difference was, he had two massive black wings resting on either side of him.

"Salex!" Jackie said, breathless. Her arms were held by four Night Class boys, and Jeff was nowhere to be seen, though there was a commotion in the far crowd.

"You know the rules." the winged boy growled. "Let her go." The one holding me chuckled. The sound was dark, menacing, like the last laugh you hear at the end of Thriller by Micheal Jackson.

"Should I let her go," he began, putting a hand beside my neck and pressing down with a finger. He drew a line; it immediately stung, as if he had cut me. "Or should I leave her to you?" The winged boy's eyes took on a glint I didn't recognize; you could see it ripple through the crowd of Night Class students as their heads turned, all to focus on me.

"Let them go. We're going to class today." Thanatos said with a bored sigh, leaving me and cutting through the crowd smoothly. Jeff was suddenly standing in front of me, staring at the winged boy.

"Salex? Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." Salex said stiffly, walking closer. He was talking through his teeth, you could tell. My hand flew to the base of my neck, where Thanatos had drawn his stinging line. I pulled my hand away; sure enough, there was blood on my fingers. I pressed my hand back to my neck, applying pressure in hopes it would stop the bleeding quickly. Jeff let Salex closer, and I felt fear go through me again. He had a scary look on his face, one that if you glanced at him you would have chills down your spine the moment his eyes met yours, which his did. They were a strange color, almost a reddish brown, and he reached into his pocket. My breathing was still ragged from being afraid of Thanatos; to my releif he pulled out a white handkercheif-like cloth and handed it to me.
"Here," he said. "Use this. It should help."
"I'll walk her home," Jeff offered, brushing past Salex and turning me around to face away from him.
"Jeff, I'll do it. Just in case there's any more waiting for her." Their eyes seemed to meet through Jeff's dark shades, and Jeff nodded.
"Fine," he said in a resigned voice. "Take care of her." Salex nodded curtly, his strange eyes meeting mine. I shivered; his expression, the way his jaw was set, the look in his eyes... it was intimidating, in a way that set me on edge. I wanted to impress him, make him take notice, but so far I had only played as a puppet to Thanatos. They obviously weren't friends, none of them were with the Night Class. Jackie ran up behind me, jogging backwards in front of me.
"I'm so sorry," she panted. "I really, really need to get home. I'll see you tomorrow at 8:30, okay?" I nodded, swallowing as my plams began to sweat. His black hair was in his eyes, but I could tell looking from the corner of my eyes that he was looking at me from the corner of his eyes, too. That made me uncomfortable, watching him watch me.
"Has the bleeding stopped?" he asked, looking straight forward when I turned my head to look at him. I pulled the rag away, seeing fresh blood and feeling the pull on my skin. The bleeding had stopped relatively quickly, but I pressed the rag back to it anyway.
“Yes,” I replied. “So, you’re Salex?”
“That’s me,” he said shortly. He made no move to ask my name. He was reserved, unreadable.
“I’m Adrianna,” I said, averting my eyes. I turned them forward, seeing Jackie dash into her house, though I had to strain my eyes. I straightened my back, trying to seem taller and carry myself somewhat similar to the way he did. His steps made no noise on the silent street, no noise at all compared to my semi-quiet steps. They weren’t what you would call noisy, since I stepped a certain way, but they weren’t completely silent like his. I found that strange about him. He walked me all the way to my door without a word.
“You’ll want to turn those lights off, or Thanatos will come back.” “He’s the guy who cut me, right?”
“Yes.” “How did you stop them like that?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t a ‘thank you’ work?” he asked, staring away from me.
“Fine,” I said grudgingly. “Thank you for stopping them. Now how did you do it?”
“I know how,” he said simply. Everything he said, no matter how much he talked, revealed nothing. I had to look up at him to see into his eyes, which now looked completely black. His black T-shirt and black denim jeans made him fade into the shadows of my porch, his pale skin standing out in stark contrast with them.
“Alright then,” I said in an irritated, resigned sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Do yourself a favor and don’t invite anyone in,” he said, turning with a small but definite wave of goodbye. “Goodnight, Adrianna.”
I couldn’t see him go all the way to the sidewalk because of his dark clothes. He simply disappeared, like a shadow at night. I let myself in, the house quiet except for the kitchen. Mom and Dad were talking nervously; I heard my name over three times, and knew they were worried about where I was.
“I’m home,” I called, walking into the kitchen.
“You were out after dark,” Dad remarked.
“Sorry,” I said, sitting the cookies on the counter. “Jackie took me a ways from home,”
“Who gave you all those cookies?” Mom asked.
“The neighborhood kids I’m going to walk with tomorrow,”
“See any cute boys?” Mom asked curiously.
“Boys?” Hmm, I thought. Yes. “One or two.”
“Cool,” Mom said.
“Big day tomorrow, kiddo,” Dad said, standing up and giving me a hug. “You’ll want to go get your closet set up so you can to your stuff tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” I said. I had been meaning to unpack my things anyway; Clothes were a good place to start. I gave Mom a hug and went downstairs, turning on my music and grabbing my suitcase. I owned altogether about five skirts, the rest were jeans and shorts. I had tank tops, V-necks, T-shirts, and formal shirts, mainly ones I wore to regional dances and things like that.
When I came into my room, the motivation to get unpacked completely left me when I saw the bottle lying on my bed. I picked it up again, looking at it. There was a piece of folded paper in the bottom, fireflies buzzing around in it. I opened it and let them fly around in my room, dumping the paper out and unfolding it. There was neat handwriting in it, a short note.

Feed them honey to keep them as your own personal stars.

“Well that was anti-climactic,” I thought out loud, pulling my pajamas out of my bag and changing into them, hitting the light switch and setting my alarm.
I didn’t sleep well that night. I kept hearing things outside my window, and I would always wake up startled, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. I couldn’t tell if it was my dreams setting me on edge or if it was the noises, and more than once I could have sworn I heard a smooth bass voice call to me from the darkness. I felt childish, but after the seventh time I woke up, I made a mental note to get a nightlight. I didn’t give up on sleep, however. I kept rolling over and shutting my eyes tightly, curled up in a ball on my side and hoping over and over in my head that I would not hear that sickly sweet voice again.
“Adrianna,” it purred. This one was slightly different, but I did my best to ignore it. It seemed to emanate from every wall, and even though I covered my ears, I could still hear it. “Let me in, Adrianna,” it said. “Let me in,”
“Go away,” I said quietly, scared to the point of shaking. I didn’t hear the voice again that night.
When I woke up in the morning, I didn’t feel rested at all. I had slight shadows under my eyes; my black hair was in a huge mess from rolling around all night. The shadows didn’t even blend in with my mid tan skin, my green eyes with brown flecks drowsy and cloudy. I splashed my face with icy water from the tap, but even that didn’t help. I sighed. I had to admit it: I looked Plain Jane next to Jackie and her perfect brown curls, her flashy white smile. I got dressed, tired of staring at my make-up disaster reflection, putting on a blue shirt with a store logo on it and my deep blue jeans. I tied on my black high top Converse, going upstairs to eat my first breakfast in my last house.
“Whoa, sweetheart,” Dad said, giving me a nervous look. “Rough night?” I nodded.
“New house, new sounds, I guess.” But there’s something wrong when houses start talking, I thought as I got my bowl and cereal. Mom walked in as I sat down, her expression surprised.
“Whoa. Did you get to bed late or what?” she said, getting her own bowl.
“Do I really look that bad?” I asked, my eyebrows beginning to knit together as I became more and more irritated.
“No, sweetheart, you just look tired.” Dad said. He was watching me carefully, though his expression was the normal hardness adapt-to-your-conditions look. I finished my cereal, taking care of my dishes and going back downstairs.
“I’m going to find my backpack,” I said as I went down. I emptied what was left in the bag I used in the drive, stuffing a few empty notebooks into it and a pen and pencil. I lifted it over my shoulder, glancing at my watch: 8:03 A.M.
There was a knock on the door.