"You owe me big time, Kenji," I said, holding the phone to my ear.
After a hot shower, I laid down on the springy bed in a motel room in the suburbs of Los Angeles. The place was surprisingly clean. Everything was relatively new, the bathroom was spotless, the water piping hot and the lone bed in the room comfortable enough. The only downside was that the T.V. didn't work. But hey, at least the room didn't smell like a year old lasagna stuffed in rancid smelling socks. I shuddered at the memory of my last motel room.
Kenji's deep voice came through the phone.
"I know," he said, "I still can't believe they're making you go all the way up there. Though, to be honest, the pay in this one is worth it."
"Yeah."
He had a point. This mission's payment was almost double what I got from the usual Order's gigs. "Hey, what do you think about the vampire?"
I had recounted all last night's events for him. Kenji was kind of my mentor slash friend. He was the one who had gotten me into headhunting when I turned eighteen.
When I was sixteen, I was working part time in a martial arts dojo. That's where I met him. He was friends with the instructor and visited regularly. When I discovered he was a headhunter, I had to beg him for months to help me become one myself.
He had been skeptical, to say the least. He thought I was a crazy teenager. But when my bugging got too much, he offered me a bet. One fight. Whoever gets the other on their back first wins. If he won, I would not bother him again. If I did, he would show me the ropes to become a headhunter.
I had won. More so because Kenji was not expecting a teenager half his size and weight to be any good, than anything else. He later admitted that it was very petty of him to take on a teenager. He had thought I would lose and leave him alone. It didn't go as planned for him. Kenji was stunned. And although it was the last thing he wanted to do, his japanese honor wouldn't let him break his word.
And here we are, nine years later.
"That in itself tells me there's something off going on," Kenji said now, "the order never, ever makes mistakes like this. The last thing they want on their hands is a jurisdiction fight between an agent and a headhunter."
And everyone knew that if a fight escalated between a human and an immortal, it would mean trouble to the precarious balance of the current situation in the world. The human would be lucky to walk out with his or her life.
Humans have always been treated as less by other races. Humans were weaker, slower and lived laughably short lives compared to the immortal races. That was a fact of life. Some immortals treated them as nothing but a source of amusement for however long their lives lasted. But those were only rumors I had heard of. The immortal races liked to present very tolerant and very friendly public faces. Especially the vampires, since they needed humans close and relatively unafraid for obvious reasons.
"Hmm," I hummed, my mind racing, "what I don't understand is why the vampire gave me the man in the first place. He could've just taken both the man and the stolen item back."
"Well, you did fight side by side," Kenji replied. I hummed again. Kenji didn't know that I had basically saved the vampire's life. I hadn't told Kenji about my magic. I had never told anyone about my magic. It was a lesson drained into my head by uncle Robert. Keep your magic hidden, stay out of the immortal world.
"It's just that he didn't strike me as the sharing type," I said, "and why go all the way to Portland just to get the payment?"
"The case is probably high profile enough that they want to handle everything related to it in the main chapter," Kenji offered.
"So why did they hand it out to headhunters in the first place?" I asked again. It was a useless circle. We weren't getting anywhere. Kenji sighed.
"The vamp said it was a mistake, maybe it really was a mistake. No one is perfect, not even vampires."
"Yeah..." I trailed off, not really convinced.
"Hey, who knows, maybe you'll get some answers to your lifelong quest if you go there," Kenji said, "You know Portland is the nerve center of the immortals in the U.S."
A few minutes later, we ended the call. I could no longer hear Kenji's voice clearly over the background noise coming from his end. His family was raiding his sister's house where he was now located. She had just given birth. That was the reason I had taken the mission instead of him.
A twinge of envy pierced my chest. Family. Something I never truly experienced the way everyone else did. In the first fourteen years of my life, uncle Robert had been my only family. After that, there was no one. Kenji was the closest thing to a friend I would ever have. But I knew I would never let him in completely. I had too many secrets.
I closed the blinds, drenching the room in darkness, and curled up in bed, thinking of Kenji's words.
Portland was considered the city of immortals. The populace of immortals was bigger than in any other city in North America. One of the reasons, if not the main reason, was because the vampire was a permanent resident of the city.
After humans, vampires had the largest population across the world. In each region of the world, vampires fell under the authority of one of The Five: Five very old, very powerful vampires who ruled their brethren with a hand of steel.
The vampires in the American continent were ruled by Arthur. He was rumored to be an extremely strong telekinetic. As vampires grow in age, some of them gain powers. No one knows how old the Five were. Some say they are the original vampires, the first ones who'd walked the Earth. Like many things immortal related, however, humans weren't privy to that information. But I knew it was the truth.
Arthur was based in Portland, Maine. Where the O.R.H.A. had their headquarters. It was no coincidence. Most headhunters believed that the O.R.H.A. was under his authority, notwithstanding the fact that the Order wasn't exclusively composed of vampires.
Which was why I had no intention of sticking around longer than necessary. The fact that Kit had witnessed my slight display of magic was already bad enough. I didn't want to attract unwanted attention.
On the other hand, Kenji was right. Maybe it was my chance to figure out what had happened when I was fourteen.
Kenji didn't know the details. I had asked for his assistance to find information about a certain person called Martin Malone. Kenji hadn't been able to help me, though. We hit a brick wall just as I had been doing after years and years of search.
"Keep your head down, no tangling with the immortals, Ellie. Never."
Robert's warnings rang in my head as my lids lowered. Maybe it was the exhaustion after using my magic, maybe it was the thought of heading to a city filled with threats that uncle Robert had always warned me of, whatever the reason, the dream that invaded my sleep was a memory, one that had steered my life into the place it was at right now.
The once green clearing where I had played and trained with uncle Robert for years was a deep rust color. The setting sun threw shades and lights on the sticky grass, the air tainted with the metallic tinge of blood and gore. The forest was as silent as the death coating everything around me. No small animals scurried around, no birds flew overhead, even predators didn't dare get close, even with the scent of blood thick in the air. It was as if they were sensing the dangerous, angry grief that gripped my heart with vise claws.
Every breath felt like shards of glass in my lungs. Vision blurry with tears and muscles screaming for relief, I dug until my blistered hands bled from holding the shovel for so long. The scent of death stained every inch of my body until it was all I could breathe, all I could see.
I woke up silently. My eyes still shut, I closed my hand on the dagger under my pillow. Once I realized the scent of blood was only a memory and not reality, I relaxed my grip and sat up in bed.
A glance at my phone told me I slept the entire morning off. Shaking off the last vestiges of a dream that had become a constant companion, I got dressed and went outside to fill the hole that was my belly. I hadn't eaten much besides a granola bar since the day before.
After grabbing food at a joint nearby and appeasing my hunger, I was a lot more clear headed. I thought about my impending trip to Portland. I needed the money, so I couldn't afford to miss out on that hefty paycheck. That didn't mean I was comfortable with the idea of being in the heart of the immortals' city. But one didn't get through life by doing only what's comfortable. It's called being an adult.
Get in, get paid, and hop on the next bus out of there.
So I headed to the airport to catch the next flight to Portland, hoping I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.
Get in, get paid, and get out. Easy enough.
Seven hours later, I was standing at the doors of the Order's headquarters. I had never been to Portland before, mainly due to uncle Robert's warnings about staying away from immortals.
Even now, all my senses were on high alert. Everywhere around me were shapeshifters, vampires, witches. Humans were present in the mix, too, but in this part of the city, they were rare.
The city was divided into two main sectors. I think that the division had happened naturally. The western part of the city was mainly populated by humans, it had many of the educational and recreational institutions that many of the immortals frequented, but the residential areas were almost exclusively occupied by humans.
The eastern side of the city was heavily inhabited by immortals. Compared to the west side, this part of the city had more green areas than what was the norm in other cities.
Magic loved nature. So immortals were known to never deforest an area unless it was absolutely necessary. I had always thought that the features of the world would be so much different if humans were the only existing race.
The Order's headquarters was located in Back Cove. A huge fifty floor modern building, stark in its simplicity with a glass facade, surrounded by acres of green areas. The Order's nearest neighbor was several miles away.
In early May, the night was still chilly in Portland. That must be the reason the hairs on my body stood on end. Yep, I told myself, it was the cold, and not the stares of immortals going in and out of the Order.
Just a little human. No one interesting. Move along.
I was surprised I had gotten this far without security stopping me. But then again, anyone venturing anywhere nearby without a reason was either stupid or stupid.
Taking a deep breath, I walked in. The enormous lobby reminded me of the Order's office back in Los Angeles, though this one was much larger and more impressive.
Spotless white marble floors, high ceilings and glossy beige walls. Countless crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light reflecting off the polished surfaces.
To my left, what I guessed was a waiting area sprawled in one corner: A neat scattering of plush couches, arm chairs and coffee tables. Right across from the entrance, several elevator doors blended seamlessly with the walls. A long reception desk stretched on my right, occupied by four employees. All of them were vampires.
Aware of the looks I was receiving as the single human in the place, I walked to one of the impeccably dressed receptionists. His face was so symmetrical and beautifully built that you would think the man was carved out of marble.
"Good evening," I said, "Elle -"
"Elle Sanders?" the man questioned with a polite smile that took his face from beautiful to stunning, "we've been expecting you. Can I have your I.D. please."
Expecting me? "Sure." I handed him my I.D.
He checked it, tapped something on the keyboard in front of him, then handed me back my I.D. with another well practiced smile.
"Please wait a moment," he said, gesturing to the waiting area behind me.
"Thank you," I nodded, a little puzzled, and crossed the lobby to the waiting area. What's up with all the formalities, I usually got paid on the spot.
Get in, get paid and get out.
This was not going according to plan.
The waiting area was not empty. I sat in an armchair in the far corner of the seating area so that my back was to the wall. The entire lobby was in my line of sight. I was hyper aware of every single individual in the lobby. Two vampires moved from the entrance to where I was seated.
Putting my backpack on the floor by my feet, I shrugged off my parka and black beanie. It was warm indoors. Their heating bill must be outrageous considering the enormity of the place.
"Oh, look, it's a girl."
I looked at one of the vampires who'd just taken a seat on the couch across from me. Long, silky black hair in a bun, a dark scruff on a smiling face and a skin tone that hinted at a country of warm sun and spices. He was slightly built, especially next to his friend. The guy was built like a tank, a redhead with a heavy beard, green eyes and an impressive scowl. He was the poster figure of a highlander.
"Are you talking to me?" I asked. I really did not want to chat. Get in, get paid and get out. No chitchats with handsome, smart mouthed vampires.
"I don't see anyone else around," the vampire made a show of looking down the waiting area, "so, what is a little mouse like you doing here?"
A mouse. How charming.
"Business." I replied politely and looked away, hoping he would get the hint. Nope.
"What kind of business a bite sized human like you has in the Order?"
A fan of giving out nicknames, aren't we? I looked at the vampire, really looked at him. He wasn't old. Not as old as Kit, at least. A century, maybe less. His smirk was getting on my nerves.
"Nothing that would interest a big, bad vampire like yourself," I showed him my teeth.
He whistled, "Kitty has claws."
I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Kitty or mouse, make up your mind.
"Headhunter," His ginger friend said, spitting the word in a deep, gravelly voice.
The asian vampire looked me up and down, open disbelief on his face, as if he just now noticed my black, long sleeve t-shirt, black cargo pants, the small scar on my left cheekbone and the knife sheath strapped to my thigh.
He couldn't see the rest of my weapons, all hidden in different parts under my clothing. But he finally saw what his friend had no doubt noticed before. I was no regular human citizen.
"The hell," the vampire said after his inspection, "you look like a blast of wind would break you."
And that was exactly how I liked things.
"Next thing you know, headhunters will be recruiting babies," he leaned back on the couch, "what, humans no longer have capable men?"
"Still living in prehistoric times? What, there are no female agents in the Order?" I arched my brow.
"Hey, don't take it the wrong way," He grinned, "But human females are a bit more delicate."
Come here and I'll show you delicate. I bit back my retort, looking away. Just keep your head down. Get paid and leave.
"So, you from around here?"
Oh, for goodness sake. "No."
"Had dinner yet?"
"Yes." Though I didn't.
"Well, I haven't," a gleaming grin showed sharp fangs, "And you smell delightful."
Ah, that was what he was after. Vampires never lacked blood to survive. Humans volunteered aplenty. Given the way vampires looked, it was't unexpected. No matter how stupid I thought it was.
Even if a human was disadvantaged in the looks department before being turned, once immortality kicked in, their features, skin and body will morph in small ways to make them the best looking version of themselves. Which was an important element for predators who fed on humans.
"Not interested," I replied. And I would never be interested. I had no idea what effect my blood could have on a vampire.
"Blood is life, blood is magic. Keep yours in your veins," Uncle Robert always said.
"Hmm, pity." The vamp breathed deeply through his nose, "you smell delectable."
I was one word away from planting a knife in his forehead.
A female shapeshifter, who I had noticed earlier walking our way, plopped on an armchair next to mine. Dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and black fighting leather pants, her shiny curtain of black hair only served to emphasize her fine, porcelain skin. That, along with slightly upturned eyes, put her origins somewhere in far east Asia. Her dark, dark eyes and cherry red lips contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. She was so stunning I actually did a double take.
Sure, she was beautiful, but that wasn't it. There was something very... magical about her. Which was odd since every single person in this lobby was an immortal, magic a part of them.
She was a shapeshifter, my senses put her somewhere close to a canine. But not a wolf, I'd met wolves before and their aura was different. Hmm.
"Anil, you've got too much free time on your hands," the woman said, fixing the vampire with her cool gaze, "as usual."
The vampire, Anil, snarled at her. It hadn't escaped my notice that the two vampires tensed notably when the woman joined us.
"Agent Irene, a pleasure, as usual," Anil said in an unwelcoming tone. He stood up, his friend following suit. With a wink at me and a scalding glare for the shapeshifter woman, they left.
"I see you've had the pleasure of meeting Anil," she said.
I raised my brows, "I definitely did. He's... interesting."
Irene grimaced, "he's a jerk. But he doesn't represent the Order's agents, so don't take us all for self-absorbed, misogynist smart-asses."
My lips twitched. "I'll take that into consideration," I said. Though after tonight, I would try my hardest not to bump into Order agents again.
Irene stretched her hand towards me, "Irene Kim."
I shook her hand, "Elle San-"
My eyes widened, jaw unhinging at what suddenly appeared behind her. As soon as my hand touched hers, a sliver of magic crawled over my skin, making it tingle. But the sensation was the least of my concerns faced with the mythical sight before my eyes.
Nine, huge white fluffy tails had appeared behind the shapeshifter. The fur was soft looking, a white so pure it almost glowed in the lobby's strong lights.
My breath caught in my throat. It took my brain a moment to catch up with reality. A nine-tailed fox. I had thought they were a myth.
When my eyes finally left the soft swinging tails and met Irene's, she had a small, satisfied smile on her lips. She broke the handshake, and just like that, the tails disappeared.
I was about to talk when a familiar voice called her name. I turned.
"Agent Kim," Kit said, walking away from a closing elevator. I straightened in my seat. He was the last person I wanted to meet. "I see you've met Miss. Sanders."
They shared a long look, and my blood ran cold at the doubt that sparked to life in my mind. How could I have been so stupid?
I swallowed, and looked away from them, assessing my escape route.
Damn it. I had no idea if regular humans could see Irene's tails upon making skin contact. Probably not. And I had gaped at them like an idiot. She knew I could see them, which meant she knew I had a certain immunity to her magic.
The day before, Kit had witnessed me shrugging off the demon's magic with relative ease. I had denied it, but he didn't believe me. At the time, I thought he was just going to ignore it, or attribute it to a miscalculation on the demon's part. But what if he had asked Irene to verify his suspicions.
Damn it. Damn it all to hell.
Wait, maybe I was just reading too much into the situation. I looked back at Kit and Irene. They watched me with predatory stillness, their bodies coiled to spring, waiting for me to make a move.
"Miss. Sanders, why don't you come with us for a moment," Kit said. Irene stood up next to him, blocking my view of the lobby. Nope, not my imagination. The bastard brought me all the way here because he knew I had some magic, or at least he suspected I had an immunity to it. But why? What did he want me for?
I could probably escape the two of them, not undamaged, but I could. There was only one tiny issue. We were surrounded by immortals who would not hesitate to make human mince meat out of me if I proved a threat.
How lovely. I was stuck.
"Where to?" I asked standing up, my hand on the hilt of the knife on my thigh.
Kit took a step closer, crowding me until only inches separated us. "Let's not do this here. We both know you're outnumbered. We only want to talk, we mean you no harm."
I looked into his flat, dark eyes, and saw the truth that he was not above manhandling me into going wherever he wanted me to. I gritted my teeth. If only we were alone...
"Very well," I said and put on my jacket, my backpack, and stuffed my beanie into a pocket.
Kit led the way to the elevator. I followed, sandwiched between him and Irene. The doors closed with a ding, trapping me inside with a vampire and a shapeshifter who would tear me to pieces if I made the wrong move. I had no idea what they wanted from me, so I decided not to lose brain cells over it. I would find out sooner rather than later.
None of us wanted their back open, so each of us leaned against a wall. I kept my eyes fixed on the elevator door, the concealed knife I'd dropped from my arm sheath a reassuring weight in my hand.
Twenty-first floor. Our stop.
This floor was as pristine and dashing as the lobby. The black walls of the hallway we walked through were decorated by art pieces I would've loved to examine under different circumstances, the floors covered with a nude colored carpet that would stain very well with blood.
I briefly considered an escape attempt. I would be able to severely injure my two good looking escorts and get away. But by the time I reached the lobby, they would get a warning out.
I could kill them, drag their bodies out of view somewhere. Highly feasible since this floor seemed to be deserted. But I wouldn't cross that line.
I had no qualms about killing if the kill was duly justified. But murdering in this situation, no matter how easily it would solve my problems, would mean crossing a line uncle Robert had drawn for me when I was a child.
"Taking a life should always be a last resort. Only when there's no hope left," He'd said to me one evening after a grueling fighting session. Using a long branch, he drew a line in dirt, "it is a line that once crossed, has the potential to drag you deeper and deeper into an infinite pit of darkness."
Remembering those words, I wondered what his thoughts would be if he saw me right now. He'd been adamant that I stay away from immortals, to keep my head down and never, ever use my abilities.
Well, look at me now, strolling in the heart of the immortals' city. Very nice, Elle. Very nice.
We reached the double doors at the end of the hallway. Kit knocked on the dark oak then pushed it open to reveal a wide room with a long modern, white reception desk on the right, a waiting area with a couch and a few chairs on the left, and identical oak doors right across from us.
The woman behind the desk, a stunning brunette with big blue eyes and dimpled cheeks smiled widely at us. Pushing back from her desk, she stood up, the movement sending tendrils of light brown hair swaying around a flawless face.
A vampire. I wasn't fooled by the crisp, white pantsuit or the neatly manicured nails. This one was powerful, almost as old as Kit.
Great. My chances of taking off in case things went south just plummeted down.
"Agent Herrington, agent Kim, the director is waiting for you."
Kit nodded at her, "thank you, Miranda."
Of course I would be meeting the director of the Order. Life couldn't possibly give me a break. It had to keep things interesting, you know, keep me on my toes.
Damn my luck.
My body was as stiff as a board when I trailed Kit into the office. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, a sense of power pushed against my senses. The aura of the person sitting behind the desk was almost a physical thing.
The dark night in the floor to ceiling windows was a fitting backdrop for the man on the chair. A deep sense of age and power, his magic was a sinuous being around him. A vampire.
Kit and Irene faced the desk, and since I was in between, I had no choice but to do the same. I met the director's gaze to find him already staring intently at me.
Old, dark eyes. His hair was snow white, though his face was very slightly lined with age.
So this was the Order's director. Well, let's look at the bright side. At least I wasn't meeting Arthur himself.
"Agent Herrington?" He said in a cultured, calm voice.
"My suspicions proved correct, sir," Kit replied, "Agent Kim and agent Singh confirmed."
Agent Singh? An indian name. The vampire, Anil, was indian. Damn it. He had tested me somehow, and I had no idea how or when. I replayed the conversation in the lobby in my mind, but nothing jumped at me. My blood ran cold. If someone could test their magic on me without my knowledge then I was in deep shit.
"Very well," The director said, "Agent kim, agent Herrington, give us a moment. I would like to have a private word with Ms. Sanders."
Well, I wouldn't. I tightened my hold on the dagger in my palm, my mind automatically forecasting every possible scenario in case of a fight and how it would end up. Given the fact that I didn't have a clear idea on what kind of abilities the director had, all possible scenarios ended up with me either dead or badly injured. If I didn't use my magic.
If I used it, the balance would tp in my favour. But the director and everyone on this floor, at the very least, would end up dead. No. I wasn't a cold blooded murderer. At least, not yet.
"Ms. Sanders, why don't you take a seat?"
"I prefer to stand, thank you."
"Very well," the director rose and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. "It has come to my attention that you have... interesting abilities for a human."
I blinked at him, but kept my mouth shut. Nope. You're not getting anything from me.
His lips quirked up in a cold smile. "Ms. Sanders, I'm the director of the Order in America. I don't have time to play games with you, so I'll get right into it. I'm aware that you have a certain immunity to magic. Agent Herrington told me about your encounter. Agent Singh and agent Kim confirmed his allegations. You were not affected by either of their magic."
Alright, fine. There was no use in denying. I realized that he wanted something from me.
"Let's assume what you say is true," I said, "it's nothing special. I'm sure most immortals are immune to the agents' magic."
"Agent Singh's magic, yes. It only works on humans," the director said, "but agent Kim's magic works on everyone but the most powerful of immortals. And, " he narrowed his eyes at me. I felt a push in my mind. His magic, I realized. Like a snake slithering quietly towards me, searching for a way into my head.
No way. I didn't care if I revealed the extent of my powers. There was no way I would let anyone inside my head. I pushed out, acting instinctively to defend myself. My magic shaped an impenetrable wall around my mind, shoving the director's magic out violently. His head physically reared back. His eyes widened before he schooled his expression into an impassive one once again.
"Like I said, you seem to have an immunity that works on a very high level. Although it is mind boggling since you're very human."
Very human. That was one way to put it.
Some humans have been interbreeding with immortals over the ages. The offspring was always human. But they had a small measure of magic in them. And although they can't work such a meager amount of magical energy, rendering it useless, immortals with heightened senses could still pick up on it.
In this day and age, most humans have some amount of magic in them that immortals could detect. It was useless, but it was still there.
Uncle Robert had always told me that I was a pretty bland human. I registered as having no magic at all to his immortal senses, which would help me blend in. To put it simply, I was a very human human.
I waited for the director's next words. He was going somewhere with this.
"As it happens," he continued, "the Order is working on a case where someone with your abilities is needed."
"As I said, my abilities are nothing outstanding compared to your top agents."
He looked like something sour was being shoved down his throat. "Kit Herrington is my top agent, and he was vulnerable."
Aha. So someone or something was using some sort of magic that even the strongest of his agents couldn't repudiate.
Kit was his top agent, and last night I was able to shrug off the demon's magical hold while Kit couldn't.
Great, that put my magic immunity level well beyond the most powerful agent in the Order. That was why he needed me.
I cocked my head to the side, "the agents of the Order aren't the most powerful immortals in this city."
It was a known fact that Arthur surrounded himself with men and women of an entirely different caliber. Their power would probably make Order agents look like well behaved kittens.
The director pulled himself to his full height. "This is a case of the Order."
Alrighty, then. Someone was too proud to ask for help from the top man. Although it sort of made sense. It would be like a grown up man going to his father for help because he couldn't do his job.
Male pride. Sigh.
"So, if I understand correctly," I said, "you want me to take part in the case."
"Correct."
I pretended to consider it for a bit then smiled tightly, "I apologize, but I don't think I would be of any help to you."
There. Nice and polite. Not a flat out "No", but still a rejection. The director smiled, and this one actually looked genuine.
"Ms. Sanders, that is not a request," he said, clearly amused.
I reciprocated his smile, "last time I checked, this country was a democracy. You can't make me do something I have no wish to partake in."
"Martin Malone."
I froze. Martin Malone. The name sent a series of images to the forefront of my mind. Memories struggled to break free. But I couldn't let them. Not here, not now. Not when they made me vulnerable. I kept my face expressionless.
The director kept talking, "I know that you've been actively searching for anything related to him for the last eight years or so. I wonder what would make a young girl interested in a mercenary that disappeared eleven years ago?"
"I have my reasons," and I wasn't sharing them with him.
The director was wrong, though. Martin Malone did not disappear. He was slaughtered. Along with the remaining eleven members of his mercenary unit eleven years ago.
I knew that with as much certainty as I knew the sky was blue. Because I had killed them.
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Hellow!
I hope you like chapter two?
If you do, comment and vote!
Love,
Mia.