“I will not have you flouncing about with purple hair! The council would disapprove, and besides, you’ll attract to much attention to yourself! Blend in, I say, blend in, but does she listen?” Ian McWethy was on a rant. Kaeleigh didn’t bother to answer the question, she knew from experience that it was rhetorical. Instead, she looked up at her watcher through her lashes, feigning innocence. “But Ian, it wasn’t supposed to turn purple. It was supposed to be blonde, it’s not my fault it messed up.” She struggled to keep from smiling. “Oh, no, but you aren’t upset about it, now are you?” He replied. “Oh come on Ian, let me keep it for a little while, besides, dying my hair again now would fry it!” She knew he was weakening. “Only a few days to let my hair rest, then I’ll dye it back to normal.” She promised.
Her normal color was a dull, boring brown. Her hunter green eyes were large and begging. Ian shuffled for a moment, first one direction and then the other, his facial expression showing his consideration. The council often badgered him for spoiling his slayer-in-waiting, but he couldn’t help it. Kaeleigh was like a daughter to him. But purple hair? That was pushing it. It boarded on dangerous, attracting to much attention and making her stand out. A slayer should blend in as much as possible. But, it was only for a few days....how much trouble could she get in? A smirk twitched his lips and he answered himself- a lot. Still, looking down at her pleading eyes and childishly round face, he couldn’t say no. “Fine. One week. It’s out by Friday, you understand?” He looked down at her sternly. “And no more of this nonsense afterwards. Don’t come to me Saturday with pink hair and say the dye messed up again.” Kae laughed as she hugged her watcher tightly. “I promise, no pink hair - or any other color.” She added after another stern look.
“Very well. Now go on and get back to your flat, you need to get some rest before tonight’s training lessons.”
Ian kissed the top of her head affectionately and watched her cross the hallway to her own apartment before closing his door. Oh, he spoiled that girl. But, they loved each other. They were the only family the other had, and a treat now and then couldn’t hurt her. She was only seventeen after all. That thought made his eye grow sad and thoughtful. It was a thought that had occurred to him many times before. At seventeen, Kaeleigh was almost to old to be chosen as the next slayer. Part of him was happy for her. Being a slayer was a hard job, and he wasn’t sorry to see her spared that burden. But he was sad that she would never fulfill what she thought was her destiny. He knew her nineteenth birthday would be a sad one. By then she would know she would never be chosen as slayer. If it didn’t happen this year, or early next, she would never be called. And after that time, she would no longer need him. At least not as a watcher. He would be assigned to another girl, a young slayer in waiting, and he would have to leave her. His heart ached thinking of that day. It seemed both very far away and so very close.
Unbeknownst to him, there were two men lurking in his bedroom who intended for neither of them to live that long.
*****************************
Kaeleigh waited until she’d heard Ians door shut before she opened hers again. Quietly, she grabbed her purse and slipped out her door, bracing her hand against the frame to keep it from slamming shut. Then she crept lightly down the hall, and into the elevator. As the doors pinged closed behind her, she smiled broadly. She’d managed to keep her purple hair, for now at least. She would probably be tired of it by Friday anyway. The elevator opened to the main lobby of her apartment building. It wasn’t the nicest place in town, but it wasn’t too shabby either. She and Ian lived in separate rooms to avoid the building gossip. In all aspects, they tried to be like a ghost to their surroundings, unnoticed while there, and unnoticed when gone. It was a hard life.
Thinking of things being gone, Kae felt an old ache rise up in her heart. It had been there for the past few months, since her seventeenth birthday, and grew stronger as every passing week brought her closer to her eighteenth. The closer it came, the less likely her chance of being chosen was. She didn’t care about that though. Being the slayer would be cool, sure, actually getting to fight demons and dust vampires. To be a real live hero. But that wasn’t why she wanted to be called. Ian didn’t talk about it, but she knew that when she turned nineteen, the council would relieve Ian of his duties and give him to another girl. A slayer-in-waiting wasn’t allowed to have any family, and neither was a watcher. She wouldn’t be allowed to remain with him. Judged a legal adult, she would be left on her own. She couldn’t imagine life without him, and she hoped she wouldn’t have too. But that hope was really just a pipe dream. Realistically, she knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Ian was going to have to leave her.
She was so immersed in her gloomy thoughts that she’d nearly walked past her destination. It was a run down old book shop called simply, Ye Old Bookstore. The corners of her mouth twitched with distaste. Creative, she thought to herself. But, Ian’s birthday was coming up next week, rather he mentioned it or not, and she wanted to get him something. She’d had to sneak out do it, otherwise he would have made her tell him exactly where she was going. The poor Brit might let her get away with a lot, but he always kept a sharp eye on his charge. After spending about half an hour browsing the shelves, she found exactly what she was looking for. It was a book of old proverbs, quotes, and motivational sayings. It was a bit dorky, but he was a sucker for motivational one liners. She paid for her purchase and returned to the apartment.
She still had plenty of time for a nap before training. She stepped off the elevator and slipped her key into the lock of her place. Suddenly, she was struck by the odd sense that something wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she had the strange feeling that someone was watching her. And then it hit her- the smell. It was subtle, barely there, but she could smell it. It took her a moment to place the scent, and when she did, the realization brought bile up her throat. Blood. She could smell blood. Slowly, she turned to face Ian’s room. The door was ever so slightly ajar. Every fiber of her being was tensed. No. Her mind screamed. It was the only coherent thought she could form, other than the sure knowledge that the smell was coming from his apartment.
**************************
Gently, Kaeleigh pushed open Ian’s door. She stifled a cry and fell to her knees at the scene that lay before her. The apartment was trashed, the furniture thrown about, the books Ian so loved were carelessly scatted around the room. But there, in the middle of the floor, was the one thing that would bring the strong, stubborn Kaeleigh to her knees. Ian Mcwethy lay awkwardly, his arms bent at impossible angles. More importantly, there was a shocking amount of blood around his head, and in one glance, she knew it came from his throat. It had been sliced open. Ian, her Ian, her father, her brother, her mentor, her friend. Her everything. Ian was dead. Silent tears fell from her eyes in a terrible flood. Sobs racked her body, causing her slender frame to shake and tremble violently. Ian was dead. She repeated this mantra over and over in her head, fighting to believe that it wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real.
A slight noise from behind her, the tiniest scrap of a soft footfall on the hardwood floors, startled her into action. In one fluid motion, Kaeleigh turned and rose to her full height to face her attackers. It was a man dressed in black robes. His eyes were nothing but X’s. Holding a ritual dagger above his head, he would have frightened anyone. But Kaeleigh wasn’t in the right state of mind to be afraid. She was in the state of mind to be angry. Very, very angry. With a roar she shouted out the words to an ancient spell, so fast the man stopped short, surprised by her sudden attack. But the spell wasn’t intended for him. It was intended for her. She finished her screamed spell and raked her nails down her arm, drawing a torrent of blood. All the stranger heard was a few lines in a language he didn’t understand, and then Kaeleigh Monroe began to change.
*************************
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