For the Hopeless

"Where did everybody go?" Hayden asked curiously as she descended the stairs.

Tawny straightened from her crouch beside a barely breathing woman and turned to the girl, frowning. "What?" she asked, her voice raised a bit louder than necessary. She controlled her volume when Hayden made a face, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she explained, "Your mind is kind of cluttered. I can't hear what you're saying over all the background noise."

Hayden wanted to laugh at that, but she merely smiled sweetly. "Where did everybody go?" she asked, both aloud and in her mind, once she'd forced her thoughts to quiet for a moment.

"Samara is in the bathroom getting cleaned up, Bailey is in her room resting, and Aven and Dameon went out to dinner," Tawny answered, and her blush began to fade at a painfully slow rate. "I'm not sure where Madeleine and Samara's cat are. They were in the front yard the last time I saw them."

Hayden frowned, but Tawny was too busy gazing at the front door thoughtfully – no doubt wondering where the pair of cats may have gone – to notice any change in the teenager's expression. "Oh, all right. Thanks." She rushed back up the stairs, and the front door opened quietly behind her, followed by a gentle call of "Madeleine, are you out there?"

Great, she thought bitterly to herself, heading into her room and nearly slamming the door behind herself. The two with the weakest minds are gone, and all I have to work with is a telepath and a freaking cat. Now how the hell am I going to get rid of Bailey? She paused, blanching, when she heard the front door close, having completely forgotten that Tawny could hear her. She waited for a moment, not daring to so much as breathe, but Tawny never came. Either she hadn't been paying attention, or Hayden's mind had become too cluttered to hear anything clearly – likely the latter.

Goddamn, am I stupid. She made her way to the desk pushed against the far wall of the room and flopped into the chair, throwing the spell book open to the first book-marked page even as she sat. If she figures me out, I'm done for.

Now, what to do, what to do? She stared down at the pages spread out before her, a spell for mind control on the right and a potion for mind control on the left. Honestly, she couldn't quite figure out how the potion would work, so she intended to utilize the spell – eventually. I can't do it now, can I? But then, Wouldn't now be the best time to do it, though? Dameon is the second strongest member of the household. Wouldn't it only make sense to do this while he's out? Then again, Tawny's mind is probably like a fortress. Am I even strong enough to penetrate it, let alone control it? She sighed, drumming her fingers against the page as she became impatient with her own unsure thoughts. Who knows if Bailey will ever be this vulnerable again? It's not every day she fights a devil. It would be best if I did it now, while I have the chance.

Filled with a sudden resolve, she took a deep breath, focused all of her attention on the spell before her, and began to sing.

-?-

"Thank you for healing Bailey," Dameon said after his and Aven's small talk had subsided into silence. They were seated across from each other in a lovely little diner, loud with the chatter of truckers and other couples much like themselves, but pleasantly so. "I don't know what would have happened to her if you hadn't offered to help. Whatever that devil did to her had her healing much more slowly than she should've been." His grateful smile was sincere, softening Aven's ire at the fact that Bailey had already been mentioned, and they'd only been in the restaurant for a few minutes. They hadn't even gotten their drinks yet.

Forcing a pleasant smile, the woman said, "It was nothing, really. I told her that I wanted to help the Guardians in any way I could, and healing is really the only thing I can do." Her weak smile turned into an apologetic wince, and she added, "I'm sorry that I couldn't do more for her, though. She was very, very injured, and I only have so much energy."

Dameon's smile had yet to falter. "I understand. What you did still helped quite a bit, and I'm grateful for that."

The pair lapsed into silence again, Aven's hands fidgeting nervously on the table top as they so often did and Dameon's eyes wandering about the small diner, taking in the sights of the odd people that had gathered there. His eyes returned to Aven soon enough, however, and he said, "I really am sorry that I ran out on you so quickly earlier. It was rude of me to just leave you alone like that."

Aven shrugged and forced another smile. "It's no big deal, really. I know how you feel about Bailey, and I know that I would have run off for someone that close to me, too." He shrugged and looked away again, his smile fading to a thoughtful frown, and her fidgeting increased tenfold. "Do you love her?" she blurted, and Dameon's eyes darted to her earnest face in surprise. "I know it's none of my business, but since we're sort of on a date and all, and since we, you know, slept together..." Her eyes fell to her twitching fingers, and she finished softly, "I just sort of feel like I have a right to know."

"Of course I love her," Dameon answered at length, having finally recovered from his shock, "but I don't know if it's in the way you mean." Her eyes met his shyly, hopefully, and he smiled reassuringly. "We're friends, almost like siblings. It's nothing like what I have with you. I haven't slept with her or gone on dates with her or anything of that sort." The words sounded sincere, but whether they were or not was anyone's guess.

Aven smiled nonetheless and said softly, "Oh. All right. Thank you for telling me."

-?-

The song was just like any she'd seen before, a mass of rising and falling notes sprawling across the page, but there was something odd about it, something that made it more complicated than anything that she'd attempted before: the words were actually words, Latin words, even, not just open vowels and odd syllables. This spell was of the darker variety, requiring an immense amount of power and an even greater amount of concentration. It was a challenge, but Hayden managed. She was a young witch, not a weak one, and she'd been practicing her art for years.

Nearly a minute passed with Hayden repeating this same line of text over and over in high, trilling sequences, and she began to wonder if she had perhaps failed to perform the spell properly. But just as her focus began to wane, she felt her consciousness click with Tawny's, piecing together with the clean precision of building blocks, and she stopped her song with a soft squeak of delight. She'd done it. Somehow, some way, she'd made it through Tawny's powerful defenses and into her mind. She'd done it!

Her happiness faded quickly, however, as she realized that there was still work to be done. The hard part of this task still lay ahead of her. She took a deep, calming breath and thought to Tawny, Go to Bailey's room.

She saw through the small woman's eyes as she slowly made her way up the stairs, realizing suddenly that the world was completely empty of sound. She began to panic, but upon hearing the echoes of her own thoughts in Tawny's mind, she remembered that she was dealing with a deaf woman. Of course she wouldn't hear any noises outside of her head.

The door to Bailey's room was pushed open before Tawny's eyes, incredibly eerie without the usual accompanying creak. The devil lay on her bed a few feet away, her melancholic face becoming positively elated when she noticed Tawny in the doorway.

Tawny, Bailey's voice echoed in Tawny's mind and, in return, in Hayden's. Have you...changed your mind? she asked hesitantly, hopefully, as she slowly propped herself up on her elbows.

Changed your mind? Hayden echoed in her thoughts, confused. Ask her what she means, she instructed Tawny.

"What do you mean?" Tawny asked in an oddly empty voice not at all her own, and Bailey frowned.

About our relationship, she explained, her lips moving but only the sound of her thoughts to be heard. Have you decided to give it another try? Or are you here for something else? All of her hopefulness had bled away, leaving her with the same melancholic expression that she'd been wearing when Tawny had entered the room.

Tell her that you have changed your mind, Hayden commanded, and Tawny said, "I have changed my mind." Now lay down with her, Hayden further instructed. Cuddle with her or something. Make her feel comfortable. The barrage of different commands slowed Tawny for a moment, but she soon approached the bed, lying down beside the woman with the jerky movements of a robot. Tell her you love her, Hayden added, and Tawny instantly said, "I love you," putting her arms around Bailey.

The devil smiled softly down at the girl, returning the hug without hesitation. "I love you, too," she whispered, and allowed her eyes to slip shut.

Now, Hayden began suddenly, break her freakin' neck! The second the words entered Tawny's mind, her small hands took an odd grip on Bailey's pale face, and the woman's eyes snapped open.

What are you doing? she asked, confused and worried. Tawny tried to jerk Bailey's head to one side as Hayden had seen done in the movies many times before, but the telepath was too weak and the devil too strong. Her head barely budged, and she immediately caught Tawny's wrists. Tawny, what are you doing? Tawny tried to twist her head again, but Bailey's grip on her tiny wrists kept her hands from moving very far. Tawny!

Fight her! Hayden cried in Tawny's mind, starting to panic. She was beginning to feel a slight resistance from the telepath herself, and she could tell that her spell wouldn't last for much longer. Hit her! Claw her! Stab her! Do something! Tawny obeyed, twisting out of Bailey's grip and immediately landing a punch to the woman's nose. Bailey tried to grab hold of her again, but she landed another quick, powerful blow to the devil's ribs before she could even touch her.

Tawny, Bailey thought with a wince, blood pouring from her nose and beginning to color the bandages along her side, what's going on? What are you doing?! Tawny jerked her arms free again and tumbled off of the bed, though she managed to land on her feet. Her back hit the dresser beside the bed with surprising force, however, knocking a vase filled with fake, lifeless flowers to the floor, where it shattered soundlessly.

Use the glass! Hayden screamed mentally, and Tawny had the largest chunk of glass clenched in her tiny hand within an instant. Stab her! came the next panicked command, and Bailey shrieked loudly enough to create an echo in Hayden's mind as Tawny lurched forward and lodged the shard in her right eye. She jerked it free as Bailey let loose a sob of pain and reached for the small girl again, blindly now that blood was clouding her vision. The glass cut through the bandages around her stomach and slid into her skin over and over again, until, finally, Bailey's helplessness ended with a surge of red mist barely the size of a tennis ball. It was thrown with enough force to knock Tawny back a couple of steps, though, giving the devil room to stand and prepare herself.

"Tawny, no!" was a scream heard both in Hayden's mind and through the walls of her bedroom as the small girl lunged again, the shard of glass headed for her throat this time. Bailey did the only thing that she could do in such a weakened, panicked state and threw her arms in front of her face to defend herself. But the glass never made it anywhere near her, as a heavy, chilling presence filled the minds of everyone involved, striking Hayden threefold. Thoughts of suicide flooded her mind, and she pulled from Tawny's consciousness with a cry and the sharp pain of a shattering spell. She didn't realize that she'd fallen out of her chair until she returned to herself, curled into a trembling little ball upon the floor.

"Oh, God," she groaned, and pushed herself to her feet. She had no idea what that was, and she didn't have time to figure it out. She grabbed her cell phone from the desk, shoved her feet hurriedly into the pair of black, furry snow boots waiting beside the door, and ran down the stairs. She was out the door before Tawny could even piece together what had hit her, and before Bailey could get herself to stop crying.

-?-

"Accounting," she said with a sheepish smile in response to Dameon's most recent question. "It's not the greatest major, I know, but I've always been good at math, and I enjoy it, so I figured, why not make a career out of it?"

He smiled charmingly, and she felt herself melt just a little bit. "Did you make a career out of it?"

"Yes," she answered. "I've spent the past couple of years at the biggest accounting firm here in town, Zimmerman's." A sudden frown shifted her features, and she sighed, beginning to pick at what remained of her French fries. "I guess I'll never go back to it, though, will I? All of those years in college, wasted..."

"Once all this whole war thing blows over, maybe you'll be able to go back," Dameon suggested in an attempt to reassure her.

She sighed again and shrugged halfheartedly. "Maybe."

She jumped when a loud, heavy guitar riff started from somewhere much too close to her, blushing deeply when Dameon reached across the table and plucked his cell phone from the pocket of his leather jacket, still resting warmly about her shoulders. "Oh..."

He smiled at her embarrassment, but said nothing as he looked down at the glowing screen. Tawny was displayed in bold black letters, and he frowned, puzzled. "What could she be calling about?" he muttered to himself. "She can't even hear through the phone. She only uses texting." He answered the call with a blunt, "What's wrong?"

"It's...It's Tawny and Bailey and...and some guy." It was Samara, gasping for breath and sounding as if she were on the brink of tears. The emotion was unusual coming from her, and that worried Dameon all the more.

"What?" he asked, straightening in his chair. "What happened to Bailey?" Aven's mouth tightened to a thin line, but as it always turned out whenever Bailey was mentioned, she went completely ignored.

"I...I don't know," Samara stammered, and swallowed hard as she attempted to regain some semblance of her composure. "I just...I heard noises, and I came out of the bathroom, and I found Bailey and Tawny with this...this guy, and there was blood everywhere."

"Samara, what happened?" he asked tightly, clutching the table's edge in a white-knuckled grip.

The girl swallowed again. "I don't know," she said once, softly, then again, in a shout, "I don't know!" He heard a soft sob escape her, and she whispered, "Just come home." There was a click, then silence. She'd hung up on him.

Dameon gazed at the phone for a moment, watching as Tawny's name faded to black, then lurched to his feet. He jerked his wallet from his pocket, tore one too many twenties from it, and tossed them onto the table without bothering to check the amount or where they landed. Without a word to Aven, he strode quickly out of the diner, sliding into the driver's seat of his truck before she'd even made it out the door. The door slammed, the truck started, and she heard him shifting gears as she approached the passenger's side door at a dead run. He was about ready to reverse, to leave without her, when she threw the door open with a cry of his name.

He paused for a moment in his panic and looked at her. Just looked at her.

"What's going on?" she asked, stupidly standing beside the truck with the door hanging open, panting.

"Get in," was all he would say to her, and she obeyed. He backed out of the parking spot and began to speed home before she even had her door shut.

But he only loved Bailey as a friend? Right.

-?-

Tawny stood outside Bailey's open bedroom door, her arms wrapped tightly around herself in the hug that no one would give her. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, her lips trembling and her shoulders jerking with soundless sobs, but she refused to make any noise, to disturb the eerie peace that filled the room before her. Slowly, gently, she began to rock herself back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

It was Samara who held Madeleine in her slender arms just inside the doorway, Samara who comforted the silently crying child as she stared at the unmoving body of what had become her mother over the past few months, Samara who remained calm and composed, overseeing the care of the devil. Tawny wouldn't even step into the room. She wouldn't touch Madeleine. She wouldn't look at Bailey.

"You act as if she's dead," Talon said in that eerie, empty voice of his. He wouldn't tear his eyes from Bailey's blood-covered face, wouldn't stop his gentle stroking of her tangled hair as he cradled her on his lap.

"It's hard not to with you in the room," Samara remarked, and he met her gaze. She didn't mean the words harshly; she only meant them truthfully.

"Is she going to be okay?" came Madeleine's tiny voice, warbling to match her shaking body. Lilah, the necromancer's purple-eyed cat, mewed softly from the girl's feet, rubbing against her legs to comfort her in the only way that she could.

"Yes," Talon answered, the words laced with thoughts of suicide and the empty void that was the afterlife according to him. "She's strong; she'll recover."

"Shouldn't we be cleaning her wounds?" Samara asked, her arms slipping from around Madeleine's shoulders when the girl knelt to cuddle the cat. "Or actually, maybe, taking care of her in some way?" Again, he met her gaze, and again, the words were meant to be truthful reminders, not harsh ones.

"I don't know how," the boy said, and thoughts of leaping from cliffs and drowning in icy rivers filled the air as his sorrow heightened. He resumed his cold vigil over Bailey, staring down at her pale face, etched with a grimace that just wouldn't go away. "I want to wait for Dameon."

"I could do it," Samara told him, stepping around the child and her cat to stand closer to the empath. It was a mistake she hoped to never make again, as the notion that she should hang herself to better the lives of everyone around her wafted over her like a wave – a wave of the ocean she should probably drown herself in, if the hanging didn't work. "I could...I could do it," she stammered, trying to keep her voice strong, though it still wavered beneath the weight of ice-cold sorrow.

"I want to wait for Dameon," Talon repeated, his voice just as it had been before, though the room's temperature dropped another five degrees at his annoyance. All of the girls shivered as one.

"Why wait for Dameon if we can do it now, by ourselves?" Samara wanted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut, her lips pressed tightly together in her own show of annoyance. She didn't fully understand what he was, and she didn't want to risk his wrath if she pushed him too far.

They all jumped as the front door slammed against the wall hard enough to shake the house downstairs, heavy footsteps like thunder on the stairs. Dameon was in the hallway in a heartbeat, his attention falling upon Tawny first.

"What happened?" he asked as he approached her. But she wouldn't even look at him, continuing to rock back and forth in silence. There was blood on her hands. He wanted to reach out, to grab her, to shake her and demand that she tell him what was wrong, but he turned to the crowd gathered in the bedroom before he could take that step into insanity. His eyes fell on Samara, then Madeleine, then Talon on his knees on the floor. Finally, his eyes found Bailey, and an odd choked sound escaped him. "What happened?" he whispered.

Talon lifted Bailey's head up a little bit, as if offering her to the werewolf, but he said nothing. Dameon rushed to kneel beside her, opposite the boy, and pulled her greedily to him. Talon remained where he was, watching the man in silence.

"What happened?" Dameon asked again when no one seemed eager to answer him, holding Bailey's bloody face protectively to his chest as he looked around the room.

"We're not entirely sure," Samara said softly. She began to stroke Madeleine's soft hair again when the girl returned to her place in her arms. "Tawny..." She hesitated, glancing at the girl in the hallway. She stilled at the mention of her name, though she kept her back to the room. "Tawny did this, but..."

"It wasn't her fault," Talon finished for her when she couldn't find the words. "She wouldn't do this to Bailey. Someone else caused this."

"It was Hayden," Tawny whispered, and all eyes turned to her, though she still wouldn't face them. "Hayden used a spell."

"But why would Hayden want to hurt Bailey?" Dameon asked, frowning deeply.

"She didn't want to hurt Bailey," Tawny corrected the werewolf, her voice growing ever softer. "She wanted to kill her."

-?-

"I need a place to hide," Hayden said, her cell phone pressed tightly against her ear. She was breathless, her legs aching, but she wouldn't stop running.

"Did you do it?" the Traitor vampire who had first recruited her asked excitedly from the other end of the line. "Did you kill Bailey Killick?"

Hayden winced. "Well, n-no, but I-"

"If she's not dead, you're not done," the vampire said sharply.

"But now, they all know that I'm trying to kill her!" she cried, stopping in the middle of the street as a worried panic began to worm its way through her. "I won't be able to get close enough to take care of her!"

"You should've thought of that before you failed to do it the first time." The line went dead, and Hayden pulled the phone from her ear. She stared down at it, watching the name – Lockley – fade from the screen.

"But where the hell am I supposed to go now?"