Chapter 10 - Zivena

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    Sounds of movement and voices fill downstairs; the front door opens and closes more times then I can be bothered to count. I shut my eyes in a vain attempt to get some sleep before I have to face people with their sympathy and pity.
    There's a small knock on my door, "Zivena?" I hear Imogen's voice as it quivers, on the verge of breaking altogether.
    I scramble out of bed and fling open my door. Imogen peers up at me, silent tears flowing down her round face and something in my chest, that I have been trying so hard to keep whole, finally snaps.
    My vision blurs as I start to cry and I try to force down the sobs that claw at my throat but it only makes it worse. Imogen pulls me into a hug as everything I've been feeling pours out of me like a broken dam, drowning me in sadness. I can feel Imogen shaking in my arms. Her disbelief palpable. I can't blame her. I never thought that Owen would be found dead. I guess I was hoping that there had been a misunderstanding and Owen would show up not realizing the panic he'd caused.
    It feels like we stand there for half an hour, gripping each other. Sharing each other's pain. My back starts to ache and I pull away, wiping the tears and snot from my face. We both collapse onto my bed. It's then that I remember.
    "Oh god," I whisper, my chest constricting. "Jared."
    Imogen gives me a pained look. "I tried to go see him before coming here but he wouldn't even say a word to me. His Mom said that he hasn't spoken to anyone."
    "I've been a horrible friend," I groan, rubbing my face. "I didn't even think of seeing you or Jared when I found out."
    "It's okay, Zi. No one can blame you for wanting to be alone," she shrugs.
    I know what Imogen is implying but it doesn't ease the tightness in my chest.
    We lay there, silence filling the space between us. Distant thunder cracks outside of the city, matching my mood but it also helps to calm me.
    A grin spreads across Imogen's face and all of a sudden she bursts out laughing.
    "What the hell are you laughing about?" I raise an eyebrow at her.
    For a moment she can't talk as she gasps for air, her face covered in tears and a giant smile. "Remember," she says but doesn't finish as she falls into a fit of giggles. "Remember when," she tries again, trying to school her features and stop her laughing. I give her a look. "Okay, okay," she breathes. "Remember when we graduated and Owen walked across the stage only in his cap, robe and underwear?"
    I snort, a grin spearing across my face too. "He was so casual about it! And the teachers tried to get him off stage but he just grabbed his certificate and ran. I still remember his robe falling open and everyone in hysterics!"
    We burst into more laughter and my sides start to hurt.
    "What about when he pulled a prank on Jared and ended up setting his own pants on fire!"
    We continue to share stories of our close friend. Even though it hurts, Ulfric's words help to bring a form of peace.
    "I just can't believe that Owen was - was," Imogen sniffs, her eyes filling with tears again.
    "Was what?" I prompt.
    Imogen gives me a haunted look. "That he was killed by the same person who's been killing all those other people."
    My body stills. "Do you mean those people that have been showing up dead in Central Park? Is that where he was found?"
    Imogen frowns at me. "Yeah. Didn't you know?"
    I don't answer. I feel my blood run cold.
    I scramble out of bed and fly down the stairs.
    "Zi?" Imogen calls after me but I ignore her.
    Mom and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table as I run into the room. Cups of tea steaming in their hands.
    "Was Owen killed by a monster?" I demand. "Was he killed by someone from our world?"
    "Zivena," Dad says, looking uncomfortable. "We can't-"
    "He was my friend!" I shout. "I deserve a real answer!"
    Mom and Dad share a tired look.
    "Of course you do, Zivena," Mom says, her eyes soft and worried. "We can't tell you everything though and -" she holds up a hand when I try to protest, "even then you're not going to like what I say."
    I give her a dead look. "Can't be any worse than finding out my friend died."
    Mom gives me a concerned look and pulls out the chair next to her. Dad gets up and starts to make me a cup of tea, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion.
    "You're right, Zivena. Owen was killed by the same person as all the other victims. And as you've guessed, we believe that it's a monster from our world that is responsible."
    A small squeak comes from the entryway and we turn to see Imogen standing by the stairs, her eyes wide.
    "Did - did a vampire or - or something kill Owen?" Imogen stammers.
    Dad heaves a heavy sigh and asks, "Tea, Imogen?"
    "Oh. Um. Yes please," she replies and then glances between me and Mom. I gesture to the seat next to me. She hesitates at first. I can sense the conflict of wanting to know what happened to Owen but also terrified of what she'll find out.
    Dad places our cups of tea in front of us and sits back down next to Mom. There's a wariness to him.
    "We don't know who or what is attacking these people," Mom says to both of us. "The Council has been struggling with the investigation since the beginning and," Mom hesitates as she studies my face, "they believe you will be instrumental in bringing the killer down."
    What? I sit there, frozen in place as I stare stupidly at Mom and Dad. I start to laugh but there's no humor in it.
    "You're kidding, right? You honestly think that I will be able to catch a killer? Even when the Guardians and the Council can't? I have zero experience!"
    "There's a lot more to it then that, Zivena," Dad speaks up. "You will find out once you get to the Hub in West Virginia tomorrow."
    "Tomorrow? Seriously?" Mom and Dad both frown at me. "Owen just died and you're still sending me to the training facility?"
    "Zivena," Mom says, her voice cracks like a whip. "Don't you get it? The Council is relying on you to start your training as quickly as possible. The sooner you start the sooner you can catch this murderer and hopefully protect others from being killed. I know you don't understand why we need you but we do. Please trust me on this."
    "Mom," I say, desperation seeping into my voice. "Are you being serious?"
    Mom nods, a grim expression clouding her features. "There is more you need to know but we can't tell you. I shouldn't even have told you about the investigation but you deserve to know something."
    This has to be a joke. How the hell am I suppose to catch a killer? I'm only eighteen! My parents have over a hundred years experience between the two of them. Not to mention a Council filled with gods! How can I measure up to that?
    "Zi," Imogen whispers. "Please find Owen's killer. Make them pay."
    The sincerity in her voice shatters my fear. I slump forward and rest my head on the table, my tea sits forgotten and cold.
    "I'm going to miss Owen's funeral," I mumble.
    I feel Imogen's hand on my shoulder, "If what your mom says is true, then what you'll be doing will matter more."

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