A Single Bite (Seer + Syl)

Devon chose to stay home that evening. Over the past year, she had begun to outgrow staying at a friend's house every night that Jason went out. The solitude of the empty house was preferable. Besides, with how often Jason went out with Lorena anyway, Devon wasn't sure she could afford to keep staying with other people. It would drive her and her few friends insane. It was best for all involved.

Thinking of Lorena made Devon's lip curl as she looked down at her drawing. Her muse immediately left her again, and her grip tightened around her pencil. Devon couldn't remember if she'd ever formally met the woman who had captured Jason's attention--if she had, she had most likely repressed the memory. Whether she had or not, she couldn't stand the woman. Lorena just seemed too . . . perfect by what she heard. Beautiful, intelligent, interesting, and apparently so captivating as to draw Jason away from everything else. Devon didn't mind him having a girlfriend, and approved of his socializing, but now it was like she barely existed at all. She hated having any clingy tendencies toward Jason, but he was the only one in her life she'd been able to really connect with, and now it seemed like she hardly mattered. Now there was Lorena.

Devon sighed heavily and dropped her head into her hands, hiding her face in her palms. How long would Jason be out this time, she wondered. Not that it mattered. He'd be happy and cheerful when he returned home, his head in the clouds from the time he spent with his perfect woman, and she would just have to say she was happy for him while hating it all the while. Trying to distract herself again, she cleaned her glasses on her shirt and returned to her drawing, her pencils strokes gouging into the paper.

That night of pain seemed like an eternity onto itself. Every moment was filled with excruciating pain and it only intensified with every strangled heart beat and choked breathe. He clawed at his own clothes as if something was crawling under his skin and the tears and screams continued. None of his thrashing about seemed to help in any but he couldn't lay still. It hurt too much. He had forgotten everything else but the pain. It filled every crevice of his skull which to felt like it would split open and expose his battered brain much like scrambled eggs.

Then at last, the pain ebbed away. He lay motionless on the bed, gasping for breath. His heart beat was so slow it was pretty much nonexistent. And he was cold. Very cold. He shivered and looked around with himself with squinting eyes. Everything seemed so much brighter now. What time was it? Where was he? Where was Devon? Was she alright? He whirled around faster than he expected and nearly fell flat against the bed again. A small chuckle in the corner caught his attention and he looked up.

Lorena was standing in the corner smirking down at her little creation. She walked to him and sat on the bed beside him. Lorena suddenly didn't look like the mesmerizing beauty he had remembered. She had lost some of her allure. It might have been because of his change. He flinched away from her and nearly fell off the bed and onto the floor in his haste. He didn't want her to touch him or be anywhere near him. She had done enough to him already.

"My, my. Such handsome little newborn you are. You are too pale though. You need some blood. I don't mind sharing a little of it and sharing some wisdom. After all, I wont be here for you for a while. You'll have to fend for yourself, but this makes things more interesting. Now come over here and drink before I have to force you again," she said with a tone of a viper. Jason was inclined to refuse, but a maddening thirst rose up in his throat and made his mouth dry instantly. He needed to drink. His eyes colored crimson as he starred at her. He tried to resist, but it was too much. He crept towards her like a whipped animal and took the hand she offered him. Fangs extended from his own mouth and he bit down and lapped up the pool of blood.

"Good boy. Now listen. You can't go back to you precious little mortal daughter if you care about her. You are too young and no doubt you will attack her and kill her. I don't want too much blood on my hands so you need to be careful. I am leaving you for a month thanks to some business I must attend to, so try to not kill everything in sight. You can't speak to your daughter nor see her. She needs to think your dead. I'll arrange your death when I return. That's enough," she barked and pulled her hand away. He hissed and then covered his mouth. What had he done? Her warnings were clear in his mind. He couldn't see Devon anymore. Blood tears formed in his eyes. He had abandoned her like everyone else.

As the night dragged on, and Jason still didn't return home, Devon's anger began to ebb and was replaced with worry. Normally he was home by this time, and if something had come up, he would have called. The possibility that he was staying the night with Lorena entered Devon's mind, though, and she made a disgusted face. It wouldn't surprise her if he forgot to let her know he would be gone all night. She tried not to think about it.

Finally, she got off her bed and wandered through the house, trying to distract herself with anything else. The emptiness of the house just reinforced her worry, though. What if something had happened to him? Jason was responsible enough to call, after all, and while there was a chance that he had simply forgotten, there was also the chance he was hurt or something equally as bad.

Now the idea he was staying with Lorena was somehow more preferable. The idea that he was hurt made her feel ill. Her stomach roiling with nausea, Devon started for the bathroom, but the phone on the kitchen counter caught her eye. She swallowed her feeling of sickness and reached for the phone. Although she never prayed, she was hoping desperately to anything that would make an impact that Jason would answer her call.

"Why did you do this to me? Why didn't you just kill me and get it over with?" he growled. He was suddenly so angry. He had never been angry before so all this rage was making him tremble. He had lost everything! He had worked so hard to get to where he was now and wanted to do so much in his life and now all of that was wiped out. Cleaned and purged. He couldn't see Devon again. He couldn't be there for her anymore and that stung worse than anything else.

Lorena leaned in close to him and licked his tears before she slapped him. "You are ungrateful. I give you life over death and you throw it in my face. You are in debt to me. If I had killed you, you couldn't watch over Devon, could you? You could be her angel in the dark or something. You should look at the bigger picture from now on. Now stop crying like a little child and stabilize yourself!" she hissed. She hovered over Jason until he looked away in submission. He was too young. He was no match for her and instinctively he knew where the authority lay.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Jason’s eyes widened. His phone was ringing. It had to be Devon. How long had it been since he left her that night? He didn't even know what time it was. He pulled out the phone and looked at the ID. It was Devon. He made a move to pen the phone, but Lorena attacked faster than he could have anticipated. She took the phone and threw it across the room where it smashed into little pieces. Jason's mouth went slack and he slumped. He couldn't talk to her...

"Remember, no contact with her. She needs to think you are dead." With that, she stood up and disappeared; leaving him alone his misery.

Devon had let herself grow a little hopeful when the phone began to ring. That hope was immediately replaced with a sensation similar to a punch in the stomach when the ringtone cut off in the middle. Why wouldn't he answer? Had he just . . . hung up on her? She had no way of knowing what was going on, but the idea that she was being ignored stung worse than anything.

"God damn it!" she yelled as she slammed the phone back on the counter, missing the receiver entirely. Tears welled up in her eyes and she did nothing to stop them. She had no way of knowing where he was or what he was doing. As far as she could tell, he was ignoring her.

Not that that should have been surprising. Devon grit her teeth. Why should he tell her what was going on? After all, his love life was apparently more important than his own daughter. She stormed back to her bedroom, continuous tears blurring her vision. She decided, even though she wasn't sure she should, to give him until the morning to make some kind of contact. If he didn't, she had no choice but to call the police. Even if she was angry, the voice in the back of her head nagged that there could always be something else wrong entirely.

Jason sat on the bed with emotions running through his head. He had been so stupid. Why had he been so blind to everything that happened around him? He had been so intoxicated with Lorena and look where that got him. Alone in a strange house, morphed into a monster, and abandoning his only daughter he swore to never leave. He gave a groan and in a fit of despair and rage grabbed a lamp that sat beside him and threw it against the wall. He watched it shatter and give him no release of tension.

"Devon... I am so sorry...." he muttered and tears began to swell in his eyes again. He wanted to go see her and tell her what happened, but Lorena's warning was ringing in his ears. What if he did kill Devon? He would never forgive himself if he did. This was far better than holding her limp body in his hands drained of all her blood by his own doing. He hated to hurt her, but this was the only way. This was best no matter how much he hated it. He stood and leaned against the window. It was still dark out, but the sun was coming up. He wouldn't be able to leave until the next night. It was going to be a lonely day.

He turned away from the window and started to pace the house. There had to be some way he could communicate to Devon and make sure she was okay. So far, he could only think of his will. He had written one. It was too late for that. He was already 'dead'. He could pose as a guardian. Change his name, his look and then watch over her. He would stay the way he was and do the same. He would have to think more about that later. The thirst was rising in his throat again and he couldn't leave. He didn't want to kill anyone. He tammed his hunger by biting into his own wrist and lapping up the blood from that. He hoped he would last the day without going even crazier.

Devon spent the rest of the night in a fitful, restless sleep. Every half-hour she woke back up and would listen for sounds of Jason shuffling around the house, hoping that he had come home while she was asleep. Every single time she was disappointed, and would fall back asleep with more tears of anger and worry stinging her eyes. She didn't understand. Why wouldn't he come home, why would he ignore her, why wouldn't he just tell her where he was . . .

When the sun finally rose, throwing painful rays of light into her eyes from the open curtains and waking her from another fitful attempt at sleep, Devon gave up on hoping for Jason to do anything. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom, throwing cold water on her face to calm herself down and wash away the residue of salty tears. Then she left and went back into the kitchen and snatched up the phone. Dialing the number was hard, and it took her several minutes just to do it. She didn't want to admit that there could be something wrong, nor did she want to face the potential embarrassment if Jason did turn out to be fine, which would make her just the overly-worried, high-strung fifteen-year-old girl who couldn't keep herself under control.

Despite this all, she was on the phone with the police that morning, and trying to explain the entire predicament. Trying to answer questions that morning made her feel worse. When asked Lorena's last name, where Jason would normally be and where he had gone the previous night, and everything else, Devon realized just how little she knew. This only served to make her feel even further removed, and the rest of the morning passed in a blur of interrogations and fear as she waited for somebody else to make it end.

Jason was up the whole night pacing that damned mansion where he was forced to stay. At one point, he did wish that Lorena was there. At least there would be someone else he could talk to even if she was the source of his anger. He didn't want to be alone in this state. He needed to vent on someone. In the end, he would break something else in the house, hoping to get Lorena angry. It wasn't fair that she was happy after doing this to him. He should have been home and caring for Devon.

When morning came, he tried to sleep, but his thirst was getting to him. He periodically bit his wrist or arm and those scars healed relatively fast. The blood he was drinking wasn't doing anything for him. He needed new blood and he had nowhere to get the blood. He searched the whole house for some blood bag or something but had found nothing. Where was Lorena? He needed to drink. He didn't want to hunt and in the daylight he couldn't anyway. He needed a guide. He sat back down on the bed and tried to sleep.

Once the sun was at its zenith, exhaustion was beginning to creep over him. He had been awake for over twenty-four hours and the exhaustion of dying was getting to his body. It was slowing down and he didn't have blood to rejuvenate himself. He curled up on the covers and slept less than peacefully. He dreamt of Devon and the trouble she would go through without a father. Without someone there to help her. Lost, just like he was now.

The next few days felt to Devon like a living hell. The police were unable to turn up anything about Jason's whereabouts, and though they reassured her that he was fine and they would keep looking, Devon lost all hope. If nothing had come up by now, she could only assume that he was dead. Maybe he wasn't, and they kept telling her that, but until she had some proof otherwise, and until she saw him again, she could only make the assumption that he was.

"Until they found Jason," as they said, Devon was shipped off to another foster family in the city. She immediately became completely withdrawn, making almost no effort to get along with them and trying to keep to herself. She'd already had to go through this once. She thought she'd finally found a home and somebody who cared. It had taken her months to get over the feeling that nobody wanted her and become accustomed to living with someone new, and now she was right back at square one. This family didn't even seem that eager to have her around. They treated her well enough, but they just didn't have that same friendliness or even interest that Jason had.

And how she missed him. Every day she waited for news, hoping that an officer would come tell her that they had found him, but it didn't happen. The days dragged on miserably. All she wanted was to know that he was okay, at the very least . . . but that still didn't happen either.

The few days he had been stuck at the mansion alone, Jason was about ready to go after Devon and make things right. He knew he couldn't. To survive, he had gone out on small hunting trips but always attacked the aimless hobo down the street. At least they wouldn't have to live in a cruel world now. He tried to tell himself that what he was doing was a good thing, but he knew he was stealing a life and he hated himself for it. There was no excuse for it.

He also watched the news and they had his picture and story on the news. They were looking for him and in those brief moments, he could watch Devon. She was alone and forced to live in foster care again. More guilt was pressed on him. Why did it have to be this way? She was just beginning to blossom into the person she was supposed to be and now he had thrown her life into turmoil again. He couldn't help her with anything anymore for a while and he had torn her heart for sure.

Then Lorena came back home, ready to set up his death. At least Devon would have something concrete and not just nagging worry. Lorena took him out to a field and brought out a dagger laced in poison. It wouldn't kill him since he was already pretty much dead, but it would help everyone else believe he was without doing an autopsy on hs body. She turned him to face her and thrust the dagger into his torso and pushed him to the ground. He clutched at the dagger and winced at the pain. If he pulled it out the wound would heal and he didn't want that to happen just yet. She pulled out a special ointment that she had made herself and lathered it all over his skin. It would protect him from the sun at least for a few hours.

The poison began to take effect and he stopped moving all together. He wasn't in pain anymore so that was a good thing. His breathing came to a stop and his heart beat disappeared all together. He was in a state of suspended animation that would last a good long time before he would wake up. hopefully he would be in a grave at that point and Lorena would have to dig him back out. She stood back to watch him die a second time before disappearing into the night and calling the police.

Devon received a call in the middle of the school day, excusing her from the rest of her classes. Confused but ready for any excuse to leave school and all the people asking her questions, she packed up her things and left. Her foster mother picked her up in front of the school. She seemed tense, saddened, and awkward, as if she didn't know what to say or do. Devon remained silent, staring out the window, until the older woman finally confessed that the police had called earlier that day. They had found Jason dead in a field. Stabbed, they had said . . .

Devon's world finally broke in half. She didn't know what to do, how to react, or anything else. She stared out the window in shock as more familiar tears rushed to her eyes, but she couldn't stop them and didn't even try. She hadn't tried in days. Her breath stuck in her throat. She finally knew what had happened to him. The only relief she could find was in finally knowing, and it wasn't in the slightest bit reassuring.

She gave up entirely. Her new "family" made attempts to reassure her, but she hardly noticed. Jason was dead. The only person who had ever truly given a damn about her well-being was gone. She wouldn't see him again. All she could wonder was "why." Why would someone kill him . . . He had never done anything to anyone, and now he was gone. And she had to go through all of this for what might be no reason at all. She gave up.

Jason was down for the count. After Lorena called the police they had showed up and quickly found his lifeless body in the grass. He was cold, stiff, and the blood had died. It had given the impression that he had died a day or so ago. They pulled the dagger free and zipped him into a bag and took him to the morgue. The examiner looked him over but didn't open him up. They had no right to without the daughter's consent to it. An autopsy wasn't needed anyway. It was obvious what he had died from.

Over the next few days police pestered Devon and tried to piece together why someone had murdered Jason. From what they gathered, he had no enemies. The only person they had any clue about was this Lorena girl. She had been the last to see Jason the night he disappeared. Yet, without a last name they could not begin to find her. They questioned the friends and they described the girl but it just wasn't enough. They didn't even find finger prints on the dagger they had found on Jason's corpse.

They couldn't hold Jason's body at the morgue forever so they planned out the funneral for his family. His friends managed to pay for the service and bought a nice coffin for him to rest in. At the funneral, the priest had just finished his words and one by one, friends walked to Jason, said their last words and placed flowers beside him. At least he looked peaceful in his dying moment.

Devon remained perfectly stoic and silent through the funeral. It didn't take any effort. As she stood there, dressed from head to toe in black, she was basically an empty shell. She blankly guessed that all her tears were simply gone. She wasn't sure she could have cried even if she wanted to--which managed to put her at further odds with the rest of Jason's gathered family and friends. That didn't matter, though. She hardly belonged around them anyway.

As she took her turn approaching the casket, her fingers clenched tighter around her flower offering. Unlike all the others, hers were paper. She scarcely remembered even making them; they'd been a product of one of her brooding sessions in her room, that much she did remember. Each one was signed with a tiny little D at the base of the petals. Why she bothered, she didn't know. Jason had always tried to encourage her artistic interests . . . for a while, anyway.

That tiny little spark of anger was the first real thing she felt during the entire funeral. Standing over the casket, gazing down at Jason's lifeless body, Devon felt that she should swear some oath. Vengeance against the one who did this to him--Lorena. But she didn't. There was nothing she could do. She knew better. All she knew as she set the paper flowers down with all the others was that if she did see Lorena again . . . she didn't know what was going to happen.

Jason had begun to come to a little during the funeral. He couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes, and his chest hardly heaved. His heart beat had slowly begun to pick up again but there was no sign on his body that it did. As the hours began to tick, feeling was beginning to come back to his body. He felt fuzzy and then the pin and needles came. He couldn’t even move to ease the feeling. He heard voices above him and he knew most of them. They were his friends and family. He realized then that he was at his own funeral. It was such a morbid thought. He wouldn’t be able to see or speak to these people again and here he lay half dead.

Then he smelled a scent he would recognize anywhere. It was Devon. He had spent so much time with her, he could recognize the air she dispelled around herself as she moved. His heart picked up speed and he wanted to open his mouth and eyes and reach for her, tell her he was okay and that he was sorry. His body didn’t move. He tried to force his eyes open but they wouldn’t even twitch. She placed something down on him. It had to have been flowers. He wanted to whisper her name but she was already turning away. A tear formed in his eye and it slid down his face. It was the only sign of life he could give and no one had seen it.

The ceremony soon ended and the coffin was closed. All light had been shut out. He felt himself being lowered into the ground and heard the soft thumps of the dirt that filled up above him. He began to panic, his blood pushing through his cold veins. Each beat sent fire into his waking body. When it was finally over, Jason was able to open his eyes and move around a little but there was no chance he could lift the cover and climb out of he dirt. He really did have to wait for Lorena to come help him. He didn’t want to use her help but he had no choice.

After what seemed like days which could have only been hours, he heard something above him. He hoped it was Lorena digging him out. He waited a little longer and then the top began to slide away from him. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the night’s light and stood up. He dusted himself off and looked around. He had been buried next to his parents. Bless them. So sad they had been buried beside a monster. Lorena pulled him through the night and took him back to his new home where he fed on her much needed blood.

After returning home from the funeral, Devon shut herself away in her room. Her "family" attempted to offer words of consolation. She slumped on her bed, sketchbook in front of her, and ignored them. As if they would understand. Or maybe they did. Who knew how many family members they had lost and mourned for. Either way, she didn't want to talk to them. Their sympathy didn't help.

She began to draw, but it was nothing like her normal cartoons. All of her sketches were dark, edgy, barely containing form within scratchy lines. She hardly even knew what she was drawing and didn't even give it a thought. It helped somewhat to take her mind off things and to do something constructive, while not letting anybody else know how she felt.

The upcoming few days were absolutely no better, either. Devon hadn't expected them to be. There were a few obnoxious questions and heartfelt attempts to make her feel better, and then suddenly, she was alone. She suspected that she drove them away herself, refusing to talk to them or be near them. That was fine. She didn't need them anyway. She didn't need anybody.

It had been a few months since the tragedy of experiencing his own funeral but the pain he harbored didn't subside any. He still wished he could be with Devon and wished he had his mortal life back. He knew that was an impossibility. Once you were a vampire, you couldn't go back. No reverse surgery was available. At least he had company even though he hated every ounce of it, he wasn't alone in the world. Devon wasn't alone either but she might as well have been. Her new family didn't accept her as openly as he hoped.

Again it was night and he stood beside her new home, watching her. He knew it was a horrible thing to spy on his daughter, but it was the only opportunity he had at seeing her and making sure she was well. Of course, he often slipped her things like money or supplies. He made sure her new family didn't see or else they would investigate and probably throw away his gifts. Devon wouldn't know who gave them to her. He always signed 'Guardian Angel' on them and hoped she would leave it at that.

Tonight would have been an ordinary night, but tonight was indeed special. It was Devon's birthday. Her first birthday without him. He could not be there for her to congratulate her, cut the cake, or sing silly songs to her. He wouldn't be there to give her a smile or a pat, or even a laugh. He could only give her a small gift. He had slipped a golden necklace in the shape of a heart into her room. He had wrapped it in a lavender box and hoped she liked it. On the front a rose was engraved and on the back, her name. It opened up to present two pictures. One of them was of her when he had taken her away from the orphanage. The second was on her birthday where he sat beside her and hugged her from behind. They were both smiling in that picture and was one of his favorite pictures.

"Happy Birthday Devon," he whispered and sat outside on a bench, hoping to catch any word uttered.

As the months began to drag on, putting more and more time between the present day and the funeral, Devon eventually became a little less depressed. She wasn't unhappy, but she wasn't happy. Life to her was just there to get through and that was about it. Her family was still nothing more to her than the people who provided for her; she didn't expect much from them, and soon they grew to feel the same way about her. She was still never troublesome, and never fought back, but she could tell that they weren't the most thrilled with the daughter they had agreed to foster. Oh well.

The one thing she admittedly looked forward to, but didn't like to admit even to herself, was the arrival of the strange gifts. She received them every now and again, usually money or something small to help her, but couldn't begin to figure out who was giving them to her. At first, she'd considered throwing away the gifts entirely, not trusting the random things she would find on her desk. Whatever had made her keep them, she was grateful for, and she had begun to anticipate when she would receive the next gift. Admittedly, she didn't know who would sign off as a "guardian angel" and found the alias a little cliche, but she was more than willing to accept whatever she was given. Sometime soon, perhaps she would actually meet the person leaving her these things.

Tonight, she couldn't help anticipating even more the arrival of something new. Her sixteenth birthday was about as thrilling as she had ever expected it to be; a couple of people she'd recently befriended had given her gifts, and her adopted parents and chipped in for a few nice books. She said her thanks and excused herself with a piece of cake, which would most likely spend the rest of the night untouched on her desk. Although she tried not to think about it, the celebration just would have been so much more fun with Jason.

Immediately Devon shoved the thought to the back of her mind. The less she thought about him, the better. Although she could think about him wistfully without any more tears, it still all left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She set the cake on her desk and was about to turn her attention to her book when the lavender box caught her eye. She smiled a little. Apparently her "angel" had come that night, too. It was well-timed. She picked it up in one hand and made herself wait, moving first to open the bedroom window so she could sit on the sill and let the cool air sweep into the room. Then she opened the box. The gift, vastly different from anything else that she had received, was startling, and wiped the smile clear from her face. She started to laugh a little bit in disbelief, but then caught sight of the pictures. Immediately her mood was stolen, replaced by shock, and she dropped the box to her lap.

"Who the hell . . ." she breathed. She looked outside, as if expecting someone to be there. She looked back at the box. "Someone is freaking teasing me, oh my god . . . Who would even have these pictures, and why . . ." She trailed off and shook her head, fully confused.

Jason heard the commotion in the house and gave a small smile. They sounded like they were having fun. He wished he was there with her. He could just imagine everyone gathered around trying to hog the birthday girl at ever corner and speak to her or wish her a congratulations. There had to be decorations all over the house in her honor, but of course, he wouldn’t know. He just hoped they could manage a little effort on their part. He wondered if they bought her her favorite cake flavor and what design it was. He missed too much.

Then again, it was the price he had to pay for his ‘gift’. He started to wonder why Lorena changed him instead of just finishing him off on t he first day. He didn’t want to be morbid on this occasion so he pushed those thoughts away from his mind. He just wanted Devon to be happy and would set his mind on the fact that maybe she was. At least he knew she would be once she got his gift. She seemed to like those after all. Maybe he should leave her a card or some letter. Of course he wouldn’t tell her who he was, but he could say he was a friend.

He heard something at the window and glanced up to see Devon sitting there with his gift in her hands. He gave a small smile and his heart sped up just a little. She did seem happy if even for a moment. A small wind blew knocking his hood off his face. He quickly covered himself up again and glanced Devon’s way. Her smile had faded. She had opened the locket and she wasn’t smiling anymore. He couldn’t quite decipher the look she gave but it wasn’t pleased. Did she not want the pictures? Was she afraid of him now?

“Damn it…” he muttered. He had thought she would have liked the pictures, but now he realized that receiving them from a stranger was an odd occurrence. He wanted to apologize to her and explain but that would have to wait till he was able to give her a letter. Would she throw away the heart he had given her by then?

Devon sighed deeply and picked up the locket again, clicking open the heart and looking at the pictures. She forced herself to look at them, rather than drop the chain again. Who had given this to her? Very few people knew anything about her relationship with Jason, and none of them should have been able to come in contact with pictures like these. Not even she had such pictures.

Her "guardian angel" was beginning to make her extremely suspicious. Regardless, she hooked the chain around her neck and let the small heart hang from her throat, knowing that to get rid of it would be to get rid of evidence and waste perfectly good pictures. She would have to come up with an excuse for her family; surely they'd believe her if she just said it was from a friend. As long as she didn't let them look at the inside of it, they had no reason not to believe her. She certainly wouldn't have stolen it or anything of that sort.

She sighed and turned to lean out the window, fidgeting with the locket. Now she wanted to know more than ever who was slipping her these gifts. It was beginning to make her angry, knowing that they knew that much about her. As she brooded, she looked out to the street. As usual, it was empty--except for one person, a man sitting out on the bench. She glanced at him, then did a double-take; for a split second, she could have sworn he looked familiar. But the feeling passed quickly when she couldn't properly see his face and she looked away again, focusing on the problem of her anonymous gift-giver.

Jason gave a sigh of relief when she looped the chain around her neck. She was going to keep it. At least he wouldn't have to worry about wasted money and time, or about the fact that she wouldn't want the pictures he had kept. He saw her look at him and then look again. He froze. Had she noticed who he was? Was she going to come to meet him or call him back? He relaxed when she turned her attention away. He wouldn't have to confront her when he wasn't readly. He needed to talk to her eventually. He was sure it was going to be okay if he talked to her and pretended to me a family friend. Yeah. The more he thought about it, the more he eased into the idea.

He got up from his seat and slowly walked away, not wanting to spook Devon at his abrupt movements. He walked back to his 'home' and went to his room. He pulled out a sheet of blank paper and grabbed his pen. He had been enthusiastic to talk to her, but now he didn't know what to say. It had been so long since they had said anything to each other. He leaned against the table and sifted through all the possibilities in his head. He could talk to her about how she knew her and what he felt. Of course he would have to pretend to be a friend of some sort to have such insight. Writing the letter was a lot harder than he had expected. With a groan, he lifted his pen and began to write in a neat calligraphy.

Dear Devon,

I am sorry that you have to speak to me through this manner but for now it must do. I am sure you have a lot of questions for me and hopefully I can give you the answers. There are a few things of course, that I cannot for I do not have the insight. Please take me as I am. I am a friend of your father's though I am sure he did not speak much about me. It was just part of Jason's personality. I am truly sorry that you have lost him as a father and wish to help you because I know how much he cared for you and wished you the best in your future. I am sure he would have been there for you every step of the way for you if he could have. The day your father died was a tragedy and I know I cannot make up for what you have gone through, but if ever you have need of me, I will be there for you to lean on. You need only ask for it.

Sincerely,

Your Guardian Angel'

He wasn't too pleased with the way he had turned out, but there was nothing else he could think to write. He folded the letter and placed it within an envelope and closed it. He left the front blank and quickly left the house again. It was still night, but it was getting late and he hoped to catch Devon sleep so she would not see him leave the letter.

Devon wound up staying up late. Exhaustion was tugging at her body all over, but her mind was racing. The one leaving her the gifts had never once been much of a concern until he (or she, though Devon hadn't given much thought to the "angel's" gender) left the locket. Who would have any of those pictures? Perhaps a close friend of Jason's . . . she couldn't remember the faces of any of the friends she had met, though, and nor could she think of why any of them would be so secretive about the whole ordeal.

She groaned and dropped her head on her desk, thunking her forehead against her sketchbook. It was blank, except for a few ghost lines where she had begun to draw and promptly erased it. She had muse to make something, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Besides, the mystery of the locket was taking up all her time to think. She tried to forget about it, hoping to go to bed, but it would not leave her mind.

After a short while, she stood up to go shut her window, having forgotten to earlier. When she glanced outside, she caught sight of a figure coming back toward the house. She frowned, but started to dismiss it before something else went through her mind. The chances were slim, but it looked like the person was coming back toward her home. He might --and that was a very big "might"-- be the one she was looking for. Slowly, she closed the window, and went back to her desk, pretending to be engrossed in a drawing but silently listening for anything that might be of interest. Shortly afterward, she felt a little foolish, staying up to wait for a mystery person, but she wasn't going to dismiss any possibilities now.

Jason just managed to get near her house when Devon glanced out the window. If he stopped walking, she would get suspicious of him and might call down to him or run to her foster parents. Neither option was a good one. He didn't want to startle her in any way or think him as threat. He continued to walk casually until she closed the window and went back to whatever she was doing. The problem was, the light was still on. He would have to wait for her to go to sleep.

He sat down on the bench and watched her window. Ever second felt like an hour. When was she going to go to bed? He constantly glanced at the sky. His time was running short. He needed to get back soon. He could feel the hairs on his body prick up. It was the first warning that sun was coming and he needed to find shelter from her harmful rays. He couldn’t wait much longer. Maybe she had fallen asleep at her desk or something. He crept towards her house and silently climbed up the side of the house with the aid of broken bricks and vines. He slid to her window and slowly started to lift her window.

He hoped she wouldn't scream if she was awake. That would make for a horrible attempt at a first meeting. He checked his cloak and was relieved it still hid his face. He inched to the window again and lifted it open quietly. His heart rate was picking up again from fear of her reaction. Would she think he was a burglar or a rapist or something?

Devon had, by that time, begun to fall into a sort of doze at her desk, her head rested on her crossed arms. Eventually her body had begun to shut down, whether she wanted it to or not. Unfortunately, her position at her desk made it difficult for her to be deeply asleep at all. Her subconscious was warning her at one point that not going to bed was just going to make functioning the next day difficult, but half-asleep anyway, it went ignored.

However, Devon was still awake enough to hear her window begin to slide open. It took her several seconds to pull back into full consciousness, and she blinked a number of times before the sound began to register. At first she almost ignored the noise, figuring she had imagined it. Then she caught sight of somebody opening her window.

She gasped and jumped to her feet, suddenly awake, but didn't make any other noise. She didn't dare. She didn't know if she had caught her angel or if this was someone totally different, but she didn't dare scream yet. She wasn't sure she could. Her throat had tightened up with the shock of seeing someone trying to get in through her window. In silence, her entire body tensed, she backed away from her window, her eyes never leaving the figure.

Jason heard her gasp before he noticed she had seen him. He glanced up with a gasp of his own. He froze and they stood at a stand still; both starring at each other and stunned. Jason realized he should probably amend the situation and make her feel at ease. What could he say or do that wouldn't make her suspicious? Every line that entered his head screamed killer. He cleared his throat and finished opening the window but didn't step inside.

He lifted his gloved hands in the air slowly to show that the only item he had in his hands was the naked envelope. Once he figured she was okay with his presence, he stepped inside slowly and extended the letter to her. His voice seemed to be locked in his throat. He wanted to say something, but didn't know what he could say. Would his voice give him away? He should have thought about this better. Maybe she wouldn't recognize him. There was only one way to find out.

"Don't be afraid. I am not here to hurt you," he said in a low voice so she would be the only one to hear him. "I only came to give you the letter and wish you a happy birthday. I didn't mean to scare you." He took a few more steps towards her with the letter still outstretched. Every inch of him was covered in black from head to toe. He must have looked like the grim reaper in her eyes.

Devon's expression slowly transitioned from one of fear to one of mixed suspicion and curiosity. She looked from his obscured face to the letter he offered, but made no move to take it from him yet. Mentally, she swore that she couldn't see his features. It only added to her frustration and confusion for the entire situation overall.

She tried to clear her throat to find her voice. "Are you the one who's been leaving me these things?" she asked slowly, her voice shaking faintly. She coughed again to make it stop. The thought of yelling for help momentarily left her mind. He didn't seem particularly threatening. If he intended to do anything, he would have done it by now, rather than surrender with nothing but an envelope. Besides, she couldn't deny that she was curious. It seemed obvious that he was the one she had been looking for.

Immediately she told herself to be more logical. Just because he was being submissive now did not mean he wasn't intending to do something. He was still fully capable of any number of actions. She watched him warily, still not moving for the envelope until she could be certain he wouldn't try anything else.