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Chapter One - Glaring Night

“Mmm...whoa...where, where am I?”

She looked around, brushing her scarlet hair from her face and unsteadily got on her hands and knees. As her ashy blue eyes started to become accustomed to her dim surroundings, a chill went up her spine.

Eighteen year old Wynter sat in a dark ally of a city she had never seen before. The freezing concrete she kneeled on sent shivers up her spine again. She shook her head in confusion and looked herself over.

Her white knee high socks were full of tears and holes. Her red pleated skirt had a tear up the left side, but did not expose anything. The left sleeve of her short sleeved blouse was completely ripped off, and some of the buttons were missing. To bring it all together, the girl had scratches and scrapes anywhere bare skin was showing.

Wynter was dazed, confused, and a bit disoriented. Where was she? How on earth did she get here? Was she even on earth anymore?

A fierce chilly wind blew in between the two buildings on either side of the redhead. Wynter wrapped her arms around herself against it and continued to gaze around her bizarre surroundings.

Sighing in slight relief, she spotted her old black shoulder bag lying a short distance away. She leaned forward, fumbling in the dim light for the strap. The bag scraped against the hard rough ground as she pulled it toward herself.

Reaching in, she pulled out a slightly crumpled sheet of paper. It was her form for a creative writing class she would be taking that year at college. Then suddenly everything from who she was to wherever she had been before she had arrived wherever she was now came flying back into her mind all at once.

“Hey Wynter, don’t forget our get together tonight!”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I just have to get a few more things set up in my dorm and I’ll be right over!”

The redhead readjusted her shoulder bag and headed across campus to her new living arrangements for the year. A cool fall breeze blew through the trees and buildings, making a soft whispering sound.

The girl sighed. “I can’t wait to get back and change out of this stupid skirt...”

The only reason she had worn it in the first place was for a meeting with her English professor about a new advanced creative writing class. She may have been there to study law, but that was only because she couldn’t get paid for writing until after one of her books was published and became a best seller, which could happen at any time—in the next year, or in the next thirty years.

Taking a shortcut through the nearby park, she made her way through the tall trees, painted with the hues of fall. Every now and then was an evergreen that looked so out of place in the deep reds, bright oranges and pale yellows. It even smelled of fall, sweet and evanescent.

That end of campus was unusually quiet that afternoon. Everyone was in their new dorms or apartments, setting up, or at parties, celebrating the end of summer before it slipped from their grasp. It felt almost like a lion waiting to pounce; everything held its breath, just before the beast attacked. Even the leaves rustled as little as possible, hushed and still.

Then, out of the blue, there was a shrill whistling that seemed to ring through the entire campus. Wynter nearly jumped right out of her skin. Her grip on the strap of her bag tightened defensively, and she spun around to try to find the source of the earsplitting screech. Gradually the wailing became so unbelievably unbearable that she had to cover her ears tightly with her palms. This only seemed to encourage the sound to grow louder.

Through her squinted eyes she saw all traces of light suddenly disappear. Thankfully, so did the squealing sound. The now slightly deaf redhead slowly lowered her arms to her side, taking a deep breath in sheer relief. Her ears still rang slightly, and when she opened her eyes, she gasped and thought she didn’t have any.

Everything was black, gone. She blinked, as if it all would just suddenly become clear and visible again. But everything stayed black. Very black.

She opened her mouth to call out for someone, anyone, but the vast nothingness absorbed her words before she herself could even hear them. She gasped and covered her mouth in shock.

Trying to cry out again, the silence pressed in on her even more, like a weight hanging from her limbs, dangling down into the dark abyss below, above and all around her. Her skin and long since turned almost snow white from fear and confusion. She trembled slightly, trying to take in her surroundings and make sense of them, but unable to move a muscle.

Wynter stumbled down the street with her hand on her aching head, desperately trying to recall what had happened next. She was completely oblivious to the odd stares and whispers that came her way as she passed dark figures on the street.

Dazed, she gazed upwards. Building after cold, gray building seemed to reach menacingly up toward the night sky. What few windows that were lit glared mercilessly onto the street and people below.

The sky itself was just as unfriendly as the buildings and people. Not a cloud was visible, and there wasn’t a single twinkling star to be seen. The only light in the city came from the glaring streetlamps and the old mean windows.

A door suddenly squeaked open to her right, and two laughing and slightly tipsy old men strode out. Wynter absentmindedly drifted through the open doorway.

The large room beyond the door was just a bit lighter than it had been outside, and none the more friendly. Tables and chairs were scattered in no distinct patter around the room.

As she looked around, she saw that there appeared to be no open tables. A few of the less drunk men glanced up at her for a second, then went back to their partner and drinks.

It was then that she spotted a single table all the way across the room in the back corner. Weaving her way in and around the other tables in between, she made her way toward the vacant table.

She walked past the fleeting glances and a few outright stares and finally reached the table in the back. Silently she flopped down and studied her surroundings. One or two people continued to stare for a moment, but most quickly looked away uneasily.

There was a quiet murmur in the room, accompanied by the clunking of drink glasses and music that could just barely be heard. People seemed to be leaving her alone for now, so she was safe there until she figured out what was going on, or she came across someone she knew.

Then without warning the flickering light above her small round table went out, and her eyes snapped open in surprise.

Black hair, red eyes, and a deadly glare. A cold lump formed instantly in her stomach as she looked up at the tall dark man that stood motionless between her and the rest of the room.

The light murmur and background noises had suddenly died right then and there. Wynter knew she should speak up, apologize for whatever it was that she had apparently done wrong. But she couldn’t. She had never actually seen someone with red eyes before. Sure, she knew of colored contacts, but somehow, this man’s glowing red eyes looked so real. She was so drawn to them that she was unable to take her own off of them.

“Is there a good reason as to why you’re sitting at my table?”

His voice saw stunning, and like his features, so dark and smooth, like black velvet. Wynter jumped to her feet, knocking the chair back into the wall behind her with a loud echoing bang.

“I, I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know,” she stammered apologetically. Her face quickly grew dark red.

The long moment of silence between the two was deafening. The entire room seemed to have frozen. The embarrassed redhead didn’t dare make eye contact now. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, wishing she had mysteriously landed anywhere but here.

Great, of all the places I could have been magically spirited away to, it had to be one where I’d make a fool of myself in less than an hour, she thought disdainfully.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, brushing past him. “I was just about to leave.”

Wynter kept her head down and her stride long as she made her way back toward the exit. The door seemed twice as heavy and moaned in protest as she pulled it open as gracefully as possible.

Cool and refreshing, the night air felt good on her hot face. She inhaled a deep, ragged breath, trying desperately to recompose herself. She smoothed her hair back behind her ear and let her bag fall with a soft thud to the ground.

“You’re not from around here, are you...Wynter?”

The girl pivoted instantly on her heel, covering her mouth with her hand in astonishment, just in case a small cry of fear tried to escape her lips.

In front of her was the same black hair and red eyes that she had run away from just moments before. Her hand stayed at her mouth for a minute, and then she let it fall to rest at her side.

“You’re not even sure you’re from the same time period or planet.” The dark haired young man slid his hands into his black pants and closed his eyes, letting out a small laugh.

“How do you...” she whispered fearfully.

“...Know everything about you?” he finished her question. “I read your mind or course.”

If it was possible, her eyes widened even more. He stood almost a good foot taller than her, and all she could do was stare up at him with her mouth and eyes open wide. Nothing was registering or making any sense at all in her mind.

“Pardon miss,” the man said after the awkward silence had begun to creep in again. “But why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m sorry...” Quickly diverting her eyes, Wynter began to feel the heat of embarrassment crawling back up her neck. “I’ve just never met a...”

“What, a freak?”

“Not a freak,” she quickly corrected him. “A telepath.”

“Same thing, nowadays...”

Chapter Three - Eyes That See

“Wynter, may I come in?” came a voice, accompanied by a soft knock.

When she said ok, Vince slowly opened the door, carrying a large rolled up mat and a rather overstuffed pillow.

“What are those?” she inquired softly.

Vincent laid the pillow and the rolled up mat on the ground and started to unroll it. Inside the mat was a cool colored fluffy looking blanket. “It’s your bed of course.” He smiled. “You didn’t think we’d just make you sleep on the floor did you?”

“Seth would be pretty content with that idea,” she commented quietly. Then suddenly realizing what she had said was rude and uncalled-for, she covered her mouth and an ashamed look crossed her face.

Vince laughed again, biting his knuckle as he had before. The embarrassed girl fell into an awkward silence as she watched the chuckling man. Once he had smoothed the sleeping mat out and made sure it appeared fit for a king, he got to his feet and joined Wynter at her spot by the window.

“Don’t let Seth get to you, child. He’s just jealous that Zephyr took any interest at all in you. He finds your presence, well, threatening.”

Wynter laughed a bit sarcastically. “I was on the receiving end of that pistol and he’s the one feeling threatened?”

Vince laughed softly again, gazing out the window as he leaned on the sill. A comforting silence set in, and Wynter used it to get a better look at him through the corner of her eye. His features amplified his gentle posture and personality. He was a little on the slim side, and his skin was a bit pale. A few short stray strands of hair fell from the ponytail and behind his ears to frame his long, pleasant face. She sighed, leaning on the sill and resting her chin in her hand. Zephyr didn’t like anyone, and Seth was sure to try to kill her the first chance h got, but at least this one guy was alright with her. Life would be a little more bearable, until she figured out a way to get back home.

Home...she sighed inwardly. What was home now? A plastic covered mattress in a dusty old dorm room? Sure, there was the old home, a quaint little house at the end of a drive in Virginia, but it wasn’t her actual home anymore. She had just jumped off the edge to make a new life for herself. She was a grown adult now, and once you jump, you can’t get back up on the diving board.

The sun fell in shimmering pools across the reflective wood floor. Bouncing off the mirror-like ground, the floor cast the light in all different directions, like a prism almost. One of these pools slowly made its way toward the silent lump on the sleeping matt in the middle of the room. It crawled up the matt, over the fluffy covers and onto her face.

Wynter opened her eyes slowly to the blinding light. Draping her arm over her eyes, she moaned and then proceeded to roll over away from the light and pull the covers over her head. Who on earth opened the stupid blinds? She groaned mentally. She was tempted to yell for her mother to come in and close them for her so she could go back to sleep.

She inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of unused clean cloth. But wait, this scent was different than the one she was used to. That smell was something along the lines of apple orchard, or at least, that’s what the detergent bottle said. But this smell was far different. It was almost sickeningly sweet—but still very faint—like honeysuckle in late spring. Wynter hugged it closer, still not awake enough to be able to contemplate or care about the strange new smell. The blanket was much softer and fluffier than normal as well. Her eyes opened slightly, and her brows furrowed in confusion. As her eyes began to focus, plain white wall and an old varnished wood floor became clear enough to perceive.

“Darn it...” she whispered.

I had hoped it was all a dream...At least then I could have written something about it...

Moaning again, Wynter rolled onto her back and stared up at the blinding white ceiling. Glimmering rays of light danced above her in no particular pattern it seemed—but doing it perfectly. She sat up, using one hand placed behind her to support herself, and she used the other the try to rub the grogginess from her eyes. Tilting her lazy head, she gazed out the window. The sky was a dazzling bluish white; it was like a thin blanket of cotton was spread out across the whole sky.

She yawned. Once she untangled herself from the bed sheets, Wynter clumsily got to her feet and stumbled out the door. After she found her way around the corner, she slipped quietly down along a narrow hallway. She turned down another hallway and started to consider herself officially lost when she took a left and found herself in what seemed to be a kitchen.

Immediately on her left was a large two door refrigerator, next to which was a fairly new looking stove. On the wall opposite the sleepy girl was a stainless steel sink, and surrounding it was a granite-like countertop that crawled along the walls, all the way over to the stove. Pouring milky white light into the room was a large uncovered window that sat above the sink. Cabinets on either side of the window could hold all kinds of who knows what, and made their way around the room, all the way to hang lazily over top of the stove.

A large island bar dominated the right side of the room, matching perfectly with the granite countertops. While the cabinets overtop and beneath the counter seemed to be some sort of black wood, Wynter had begun to notice and recognize the simplistic theme of white washed walls and bare windows all throughout the home.

She stared around the room for a minute longer ant then turned to the refrigerator and pulled both doors open. Wynter searched through the contents for a while and found that she was not familiar with anything on the freezing shelves. Shutting the doors, she moved on to the cabinets above her head. Boxes and bags of things were scattered throughout, having no organization whatsoever. Underneath the sink was a vast array of pots and pans—all of which looked spotless, whether from lack of use or intense cleaning was anyone’s guess.

A door slammed. Wynter could just barely hear it as she ran warm water in the sink. Setting the measuring cup down on the counter next to her, she turned off the water and reached for a towel to dry her hands. When she turned around, Wynter saw that someone had made the counter next to the stove into a bed. He had shoved all of the boxes and bowls Wynter had laid out to make breakfast either on the floor or onto the stove. A black tail flicked lazily as it hung over the edge of the counter. There was a dull clink as a glass bottle fell from Seth’s hand and hit the tiled floor a few inches below.

“Is there a particular reason as to why you’re laying on the counter?” Wynter inquired, setting down the towel she had been using.

In response, Seth merely cussed at her and told her to shut up. His words were horribly slurred; Wynter picked up the bottle he had dropped and put the opening to her nose. The very faintest whiff was enough to tell her what she already assumed. Alcohol. She made a face and threw the bottle in a trashcan nearby.

“Causing trouble this early? Same as usual...”

“Leave me alone Zeph...” the drunken boy shifted slightly to get comfortable.

Both Vince and zephyr appeared in the doorway. Vince had his usual kind smile on, but zephyr looked rather annoyed—at everything. He ran a hand through his messy black hair and went over to take a seat at the bar, not even acknowledging Wynter in the process. Vince followed him, offering a friendly ‘good morning’ as he passed her.

Sighing, Wynter began gathering things off the floor and stove. “I was just about to start cooking, Seth, so if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Didn’t I already tell you to...to shut the hell up?” Despite the alcohol in his voice, he still managed to sound, even, slightly threatening.

Wynter sighed again, this time in exasperation. “Will someone please get that cow off the counter! I need to make breakfast.”

The aggravated boy sat up, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Say that again and I swear I’ll—”

“Oh shove it Seth,” Zephyr cut in, his voice clear and deadly. “And get down now.”

“But Zeph, she doesn’t even belong here!” Seth argued. “If she has a problem with me sleeping on the counter then—”

“If you don’t want to be around her, then go somewhere else! None of us need you drunk all over the kitchen.”

Seth gritted his teeth. It was obvious by the look on his face that Zephyr’s words had cut maybe a little too deep. He sent a quick glare at Wynter before sliding down off the counter and half-stumbled, half-stomped out of the room. A heavy silence filled the air around them as the three stared at the now empty doorway. Finally, after a long while, Wynter was the first to move. She coughed and continued with what she had been doing before Seth had come in.

It took a little longer than it normally did for her to make breakfast. Ingredients and foods did not have the same names as they did back home. She eventually figured most of it out though. Once breakfast was made, very little was said by anyone. After the three finished their meals and went their separate ways, Wynter put some of the leftover food on a plate, warmed it up and started off down the hallway.

“Seth?”

She knocked hesitantly.

“Seth are you in there?” She heard movement inside, so she assumed that he was. Wynter could literally feel the negative vides radiating through the door to her. Sighing softly, she set the plate down on the floor beside the door and strode silently back to her own room.

“Are you ready to go Wynter?”

She sighed. “As ready as I can possibly be. I look horrible though.”

“That’s a silly thing to say.”

“Just look at me,” she said. “I’ve got no brush and my hair’s a mess. I’m wearing the clothes of a guy I met last night and they’re two sizes too big. It’s obvious how I look,” she moaned in exasperation.

“I’m blind, not stupid,” Vincent smiled, putting a hand on the doorknob to open it.

Wynter’s eyes widened. “What? No, I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean...I didn’t...” she stuttered in embarrassment. She was mentally kicking herself at that point as her cheeks turned a bright red.

He laughed good-naturedly at her embarrassment and pulled open the door, gesturing politely for her to go first. “It’s quite alright, child. Very few people know that I’m blind.”

Wynter, still shocked and embarrassed, said nothing and kept her head down as she left the house. Vincent led her down the long street and around the corner. The city looked so much different in the light than it had the night before. The once mean and angry windows now looked lazy and useless as the sun penetrated every last nook and cranny of the streets and buildings. The blazing streetlamps where now extinguished and sat sadly on each corner, forgotten.

“Um, Vince?” she inquired after they had been walking for a short time. “Where exactly are we going anyway?”

“Oh, that’s right. I guess zephyr never told you,” he replied, smiling his usual smile. “We don’t know how long you’re going to be staying with us, since no one knows yet how to get you home, so we’re getting you some clothes and other necessities until we can find a way to send you home.”

“Stay with you?” she repeated in surprise. “I couldn’t possibly...I can’t take advantage of you guys like that!” she protested.

“Nonsense. We both know you have nowhere to go, since you’re not even sure how it is you got here.”

“But I have no money to pay for anything,” she argued.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.”

“What? I can’t let you do that!”

“Too, bad, I am,” Vincent smiled even wider. “End of discussion.”

“G’d afternoon Vincent dear.”

“How are you Silvia?” Vincent smiled politely at the large dark skinned lady behind the counter.

“Good as ever dear. What can I get for you today?”

“Just the usual ma’am, only double it, would you?”

“Sure thing honey,” she woman turned to the shy redhead standing behind Vincent and smiled. “And who might this be? Maybe a girlfriend or fiancé?” she winked at him.

Wynter opened her mouth to deny the statement, but Vincent was quicker than she was. “Why yes, actually,” he said, catching both women off guard. “We’ve been out shopping all morning. She’s moving in with me.”

A sly smile filled Silvia’s face. “Why, good for you dear!” she turned back to Wynter and said “You hold on tight to this one sweetheart, y’hear? He’s a real keeper,” she winked at Wynter, who had turned a dark shade of red and then turned around to get them their order.

Like she had all morning, Wynter watches Vincent pay for the purchase by sliding his hand over a metal square on the counter. She had wanted to ask him how it worked all morning long, but had never gotten a chance. She felt rather guilty about many things, and had stayed rather quiet during their little excursion.

She finally found her voice and asked him as they sat down to eat. “It’s quite simple really,” he replied. “You just get an account that’s programmed to your specific DNA. When you touch the payment scanner, it reads your DNA and takes the money out of your account.”

“So it’s basically like a credit card without the card...” she commented.

“Credit card?”

She nodded. “It’s basically the same thing, only instead of your hand, you use a card, along with a series of numbers.”

“Isn’t that a little risky though? Carrying around something that’s so easy to steal?”

“Yeah, you would think someone would have thought of a better idea by now. Identity theft is a big problem where I’m from.” She sighed. “But then again, there aren’t any cat people or telepaths where I live...”

“Really now?” Vincent lowered his voice. “There really aren’t supposed to be any here either.”

“What?” she slight, slightly surprised.

“We’ll talk about it some other time,” his voice was almost an inaudible whisper at this point. “Here’s not the kind of place to be discussing those sorts of matters.”