For the Hopeless

I suppose I do look a bit better, Bailey thought to herself as she leaned over the sink in a gas-station bathroom. Her reflection in the grimy mirror was a bit deformed, but her nonetheless. In only the hour since she'd left home, her cheeks had regained a more natural appearance, the dark circles under her eyes had begun to disappear, even the sickly pallor of her skin had started to vanish. The face in the mirror was one that hadn't been hers for weeks. High cheekbones, beautiful reddish-brown eyes, pretty pink lips, and unmarred, porcelain-white skin. It was incredible how quickly she could recover after going psycho and crying a bit.

I still don't understand it, was her next thought. She bowed her head, her fingers tightly clenching the dirty white edges of the sink. She'd never recovered like this before. Usually, she was sickly for a few weeks, then the problem just seemed to work itself out. Was that what happened? Had her natural recovery simply coincided with the release of her dark side? Whatever.

She sighed and turned from the mirror. Standing here, staring at herself, wasn't getting her anywhere. Then again, this entire stop at the gas station wasn't getting her anywhere. But where exactly was she supposed to be going? It's not as if she'd left the house with a plan, with a destination in mind. She'd left the house because of her emotions. She'd left the house to escape.

She slipped out of the bathroom and past the cashier at the front of the store. The only people here so early in the morning were a few truckers and a couple of guys in suits stopping for some coffee. Or, at least, that's what she'd thought. But when she made it past the normal crowd and out into the parking lot, she found herself unpleasantly surprised.

Only feet from the door stood a man with a gun. It was shiny, silver, the barrel glinting in the grayish light of early morning. And it was right in the face of a young woman. Why was it always a woman?

"I know what you are." The man's voice shook, but it was loud, the tone sure. He believed every word he said. "You're one of them, one of those Novie." The woman shook her head vigorously, already beginning to take a step away from the man, but he barked, "No! Don't move!"

"She doesn't look like a Novie," Bailey remarked, taking a slow step forward. The man spun to face her, but his pistol remained trained on the girl. Bailey's eyes flicked to the man for a moment, then wandered back to the woman. "And even if she is, she can't be older than eighteen. Why would you want to cut a stranger's life so short?" Her eyes darted back to the man, searching for some change in his demeanor, but she found none. If anything, he was even more sure now.

"If she's one of them, she deserves to die young. She should've died younger." Without another word, he turned back to the girl, his finger already pulling back on the trigger.

Bailey felt a power coursing through her that she'd been unable to feel for weeks. It wasn't mere strength, mere adrenaline, the simple thrill of the fight. It was her power, her true power. With a flick of her fingers and a red glow to her eyes, the gun spun, jerking from his fingers and hovering in midair. It was pointing at his face when a bullet finally emerged.

"Are you a Novie?" Bailey asked as the bullet embedded itself in the man's forehead. He crumpled to the asphalt, blood squirting from the fatal wound, and his gun fell to the ground before him with a loud clank. And his fingerprints were the only ones on the grip.

"N-no," she stammered, taking three quick steps away from the man's corpse. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the gore. "I'm a h-human." Bailey gazed at her for a long moment, trying to decide whether she was lying or not. But if she were lying, wouldn't she have said the opposite?

"Then a nonhuman just saved your life," she finally said, turning from the girl and starting in the opposite direction. "Keep that in mind." She expected the human to go for the gun in blind fear of what she didn't understand, as the humans so often did, but she didn't even move. She just watched until Bailey rounded the corner, vanishing from view.

Perhaps there were Traitors among the humans as there were among the Novie. But what were their reasons?

-

Madeleine slipped out of her window and onto the roof of the front porch, a slight avalanche beginning at her feet. She didn't allow herself to be caught in the slide of snow, however, leaping off of the roof in a single graceful bound. She was in the form of a small tabby cat, a streak of pale orange-gold against the snow as she ran.

Bailey's Corvette was still in its spot in the driveway, meaning that tracking her was going to be far more simple than Madeleine had originally expected. All she had to do was follow the only set of footprints in the snow, since no one else would be out walking in this weather. Down the street, around the corner, through a narrow alley...She'd only left half an hour ago. She couldn't have gotten too far.

The tiny cat sprinted for only a few minutes longer before finally spotting her prey. It was just a heel and a swish of auburn hair rounding the corner, but it was all too familiar to Madeleine. She darted past the stunned human female and the corpse still oozing blood on the sidewalk, soon slowing to a casual walk beside Bailey.

"You shouldn't be out here, Madeleine," the woman said with a knowing glance at the kitten. "It's not safe out here, not even for me." Madeleine meowed in disagreement, and Bailey sighed. "Well, think what you want."

They passed behind a dumpster as they entered another alley, and Madeleine emerged from the other side in her human form. She was blonde-haired and blue-eyed as she'd always been, bundled in a puffy white winter coat. "I may be a child, but I'm not clueless. I know that it's safe in the world for no one but you."

Bailey offered her a half smile. "And you, since you're with me." She lightly patted the girl's head, her half smile turning into a full one. "I would never let anything happen to you." The child smiled, even giggled. She opened her mouth to speak, but she never got to make a sound. A gunshot rang out from the opposite end of the alleyway.

Bailey tugged Madeleine behind her in one swift motion, the bullet sailing harmlessly by, but another one quickly followed. Afraid to step aside, afraid to risk harming Madeleine, Bailey took the bullet. She let out a soft hiss of pain as it bit into her stomach, just to the side of her belly button. Luckily, it didn't pass through, stopped by her organs before it could escape and enter Madeleine. Bailey's hands were behind her back, tightly clutching the trembling child's shoulders. She wouldn't let them hurt her.

"I saw what you did back there," a man informed her calmly as he emerged from the shadows, gun raised and his hand steady, "when you shot that man."

"I suppose the fact that I did it to save another human means nothing to you?" Bailey said in a voice just as steady as his weapon. She looked past him to watch several more men creep up from the alley's end, all wearing police uniforms. He'd been smart enough to call for back up.

The man offered her a cold chuckle, stopping only feet away from her. "You saved one innocent human and killed another. What is that supposed to mean?"

Bailey could feel herself seething, angered by this man's use of the word "innocent." So a man waving a gun in a girl's face was "innocent" simply because he was human? If he had shot her, would he even have gotten arrested? No, probably not. He was just doing his humanly duty, trying to rid the world of another monster.

The snowy pavement to either side of her began to steam as her anger slowly empowered her, but she still sounded calm when she spoke. "Of course. What was I thinking?"

She jerked the gun from the man's hand with her hot, heavy, writhing anger, turning it on him and firing with no remorse. The squad of officers behind him mimicked her as their leader fell, gunshot after gunshot echoing through the alley. She stood her ground, though, and her hands never even left Madeleine's shoulders.

A red haze rapidly formed over the alley, the air around the bullets glowing crimson as they were stopped in midair, inches from her body. They were flipped around just as the gun had been, aimed at their owners and returned with the full force of a gunshot. Some tried to run, others stayed still in shock, but one thing was shared between them: they were all filled with bullets and killed within a matter of seconds.

She let a bit of the tension ease from her body as she scanned the sea of bloody corpses. They were all undoubtedly deceased. She expected no surprises. And she received none...unless a woman appearing in a sudden rush of heat before her counted as a surprise.

The woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She was slender, pretty, but lacking noticeably in the chest area. Her hair was black as night, her eyes the blue of ice. Something about her just screamed run or die. She planted her palm firmly against Bailey's bloody stomach and sent a shock through her that she could never have anticipated. Sparks danced about her, little strikes of lightning singing the pavement; and after only a couple of seconds, she was flying through the air. Madeleine was knocked to the ground.

Bailey hit the crumbling asphalt several feet away, clear at the opposite end of the alley. All she saw was black; all she heard was her own rapid gasps for air and racing heart. But when that finally cleared to leave her twitching in pain, shock after shock still coursing through her, she heard a shout of "stop!" from Madeleine. It was followed by the angry roar of a lion, then a howl of pain.

When Bailey was finally able to sit up, she saw Madeleine lying on the ground where she'd been standing before, half lion and half little girl. The lion's head faded in and out of existence around the human's, the body shifting similarly as the child writhed in the snow. She had attempted to force herself to shift into too large of an animal and failed, as she'd likely known she would have. The pain was from her own failed transformation. The woman hadn't even touched her.

"Madeleine!" Bailey cried, lurching to her feet and starting toward the girl. She nearly collapsed from the lingering sting of the electric shock, but she forced herself on.

As she neared the child, however, the woman appeared in front of her again, in that same rush of hot air. Her fist flew toward Bailey's stomach, lightning-like energy still crackling around her clenched fist. Bailey caught it with ease, her eyes flashing blood red as shocks rolled through her arm one after another. But this time, she didn't budge. She wouldn't let anything happen to Madeleine. Anything.

Mimicking the woman's motions from before, Bailey let a tightly clenched fist head for her opponent's stomach; but she, unlike the woman, actually landed the hit. Even with her left hand, her weak hand, the blow was powerful enough to have blood spraying from the woman's lips, parted in a gasp of pain. If she hadn't had such a tight hold of the woman's lightning-filled hand, she would have been sailing through the air and right into a pile of bloody human corpses.

As it were, Bailey's fist remained pressed against the woman's stomach, an odd red haze surrounding it that was much like the haze that had fallen over the alley only minutes ago. The woman shrieked, her shirt beginning to burn where Bailey touched it. The heat spread outward, the fabric falling away in ashes and leaving her stomach bare. The moment Bailey's skin touched hers, a scream of bloody murder tore from her lips. In a matter of seconds, Bailey's hand had burned clean through the woman's stomach, through the skin and the organs within.

The shocks racing along Bailey's arm ceased, and she let the woman's body fall to the cold, bloody ground. Her eyes and mouth were both wide in an expression of terror, her stomach smoking where Bailey's hand had passed through.

Bailey raised her hand slowly in front of her face, the red glow of her eyes brightening the red of the blood coating her still-clenched fist. The red haze had left it, but it was steaming, making the power left over from her kill disturbingly visible. It was thrilling, having her own power back...

"Mommy?" came a soft whimper from behind her, barely audible even in the silence of the corpse-littered alleyway. Bailey spun, the glow leaving her eyes in an instant.

"Madeleine," she whispered, falling to her knees at the girl's side. She reached for her twitching body, but quickly caught herself and revoked her bloody hand. "Honey, are you all right?"

"Mommy?" the girl whined again, her eyes wide and focused on the gray sky above. Her body jerked again, then again, and she went still.

"I'm not your mother," she wanted to say, but the thought left her mind almost the moment it had come. "Are you all right?" she said instead, laying her clean hand gently against the girl's cheek. Her skin was hot, as if she had a high fever, but Bailey fought the urge to pull her hand away. She feared that if she stopped touching her, something else might happen.

"I almost had it," Madeleine murmured, her blue eyes finally finding Bailey's face. She blinked once, slowly, and a goofy grin spread across her tear-stained face. "I was almost a lion."

"Yeah," Bailey said with a light, relieved laugh. "You were." She ran a thumb over the girl's cheek, smearing her tears, then let her hand fall away.

Slowly, Madeleine sat up. She looked Bailey over once, and her smile quickly turned into a frown. "You're...black," she stated, "and bloody."

"Black?" Bailey had to look down at herself, confused. Only then did she notice that her arm and her stomach were blackened, likely charred by the Traitor's lightning abilities. They stung now that she noticed.

"Is it just...ash or something?" Madeleine asked slowly, her head tilting lightly to one side as she studied Bailey's blackened stomach. She poked it suddenly, and Bailey let out a hiss of pain. Madeleine jerked her hand back, eyes wide. "I'm sorry," she was quick to say. "I just-"

"I know," Bailey said with a small smile, all signs of pain gone. "I wasn't completely sure, either." She got to her feet as quickly as she could without hurting herself, feeling as though she were moving in slow motion. Madeleine followed her lead, though she didn't seem to have any pain to deal with. "Are you all right?" Bailey had to ask, carefully looking the child over.

"I think so," she answered, glancing down at herself. Her coat had a small tear on the right side, but that seemed to be the extent of her injuries.

"Good. We should get out of here," Bailey said with an uneasy glance at the corpses strewn about the alley. Her eyes lingered on the Traitor's body for a moment, then moved back to Madeleine. "More police could arrive at any moment."

The child nodded. "Would you like me to turn back into a cat?" she asked, almost as if she were reading the adult's mind. Even if Bailey got caught, it was unlikely that anyone would notice a small tabby cat wandering off. If she would actually wander off and not try to turn into a lion again...

"Sure," Bailey replied with a smile. "I suppose that would be best." In an instant, Madeleine became a small, orange-gold tabby cat. Her furry face was twisted in a slight kitty grimace, as if the transformation hurt her, but it quickly disappeared. She looked up at Bailey and mewed softly, and Bailey started off down the alley, stepping carefully over corpses as she went.

-

"Bailey." Dameon was on his feet the second the woman stepped through the door, clearly alarmed. "What happened?"

Bailey stepped to one side of the door to allow Madeleine to pass, still in the form of a cat, then closed the door. She was being careful to keep her eyes from Dameon's face. "I saved a human from a man who thought she was a Novie. I was noticed."

Tawny was suddenly beside her, looking even more like a doll in comparison. She was clean, cutely dressed, and so very tiny while Bailey was just...not. "By a Traitor and an entire police force?" she asked, seeing into Bailey's thoughts with ease. The more she heard, the deeper her frown became. "I've never heard of someone able to do something like that."

"Like what?" Hayden was the one chiming in now, though she remained seated on the couch where Dameon had been sitting. The werewolf had yet to sit back down, looking torn between staying where he was and getting closer to Bailey.

"Lightning, I guess you could call it," Bailey answered. She held her charred arm up for Hayden to see, saying nothing more.

Aven gasped softly, and Bailey's eyes darted toward the sound. She hadn't noticed the woman, standing to one side of the couch. For some reason, she resented her at that moment. Too weak to protect yourself, Bailey thought bitterly, her eyes narrowing. Too weak to kill. She was so pretty, in Bailey's clothes. So sweet and innocent. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect teeth. She had only one deformed ear to show that she'd ever even faced hardship. But Bailey... Too weak, was all she could think. Too. Weak.

Was it jealousy?

When she finally turned her attention to Tawny, she found the girl gazing at her with a hint of a smile in her unusual eyes. Did she agree? Did she find this funny? Was she mocking Bailey?

"An elementalist, perhaps?" Hayden suggested, noticing none of the strange expressions, none of the glares or the tiny smiles. "Those still exist, right?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Bailey asked, turning to the teenager in an attempt to distract herself from Aven and Tawny. "There were never many to begin with, but they tend to be powerful enough to continue well into their hundreds."

"But if they're so powerful," Aven began, "how were you able to kill one so easily?"

Bailey's eyes were on her in a heartbeat, narrowed and threatening once again. But this time, everyone noticed. "Besides the fact that she was young and inexperienced and working for the wrong side? Well, I happen to be something much more powerful than a mere elementalist." The words left her mouth in a hiss, and she was surprised that her eyes remained an unglowing red-brown.

"But your power is only just returning," Dameon interjected softly. Bailey turned to him, her expression still fierce. She was daring him to speak against her. "It is a little bit unusual that you got out of the fight with so few injuries."

Bailey's eyes did begin to glow at that point. Madeleine meowed softly, rubbing against her ankle, but even the cute kitten couldn't calm her now. "Dameon, I've fought elementalists before," she said coldly. "I know the difference between my strength and theirs. I know the difference between an experienced one and one who has barely used her powers."

"We technically never even agreed that she was an elementalist," Hayden pointed out in a soft, hesitant voice. She wasn't scared, but she was clearly a bit uncomfortable with Bailey's anger as it was.

"She was either an elementalist or a witch," Bailey said, forcing the glow from her eyes and some of the tension from her muscles, "and she never sang a note." She really had no reason to be so aggravated. Aven had insulted her a bit, sure, but that was it. I'm such a jealous bitch. Tawny snickered.

"Definitely an elementalist, then," Hayden conceded with a sigh. "Now, what's more powerful than an elementalist?"

Bailey rolled her eyes. "Research it. There are actually a few things."

"Why won't you just tell us?" the teenager asked, cocking an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "That would make things so much easier, and I think we all deserve to know."

"This again? Really?" Bailey asked, also crossing her arms. She managed to look a bit more intimidating than the witch, however. "We have bigger problems than what I am."

"Not right now, we don't," Hayden retorted with a cocky smile. "The police who saw you are dead. The elementalist who attacked you is dead. You and Madeleine are home, safe and sound. What else is there to worry about?"

"Maybe the war that's still raging on. Maybe your smoking habit. Maybe my charred flesh and the bullets in my body." Bailey felt her anger rising again, and Tawny lay a gentle hand upon her unwounded arm. She calmed down almost immediately. "I don't want you to know what I am for a reason," she said softly, dropping her eyes to the floor at her feet. "Why can't you all just accept that?"

"Because it's not fair," Hayden began, getting to her feet to put her more on Bailey's level, "and frankly, it's a little bit scary."

At that, Bailey's heart sank. "You're...scared?" she said softly, her glare turning to a frown. She could understand blatant curiosity, the accusation that it just wasn't fair, but she was...scared?

Hayden shrugged, averting her gaze quickly. She was clearly uncomfortable now that she had admitted her fear. "Well, a little. I'm sure we all are." She glanced around the room, seeking support. Aven was nodding, as was the little kitten at Bailey's feet. Dameon was completely still, his expression blank to keep his opinion hidden, and Tawny was shaking her head so violently that her hair was whipping her face with each turn. "All right. Not all of us, but enough of us," Hayden amended, finally looking Bailey in the eye.

"You have no reason to be scared," the woman said, still wearing a deep frown. "I would never do anything to hurt any of you."

Hayden shrugged. "Not of your own will, of course. But I've seen what you can do, and you aren't always in control."

Bailey opened her mouth to speak, only to close it without saying a word. She wanted to argue that point, wanted to reassure the girl that nothing bad would ever happen to her, but she knew that she couldn't. She could not with one-hundred percent surety say that she would always be control enough to avoid harming her own companions. Somehow, she hadn't realized that until now.

"I'm not human," she began, unable to think of another path to take. "I'm not vampire or werewolf or elementalist. I'm not witch, not elf, not sinesensus. I'm not a god. I'm the exact opposite."

"Demon?" Aven asked softly, hesitant to speak into the tense silence that had formed.

"No," Bailey answered, her voice nearly a whisper. She was shaking inside, afraid they would be able to figure it out. "I'm something worse."

"But what's worse than a demon and the antithesis of a god?" Hayden asked, brow furrowed in confusion. She was on the edge of her seat, deep in thought.

"Research it," Bailey murmured, eyes on the floor. "I'm sure something will come up." And still shaking inside, she started up the stairs as quickly as her injured body would allow her to go, eager to get away from the topic that had so randomly sprung upon her.

She didn't want to be around when they figured it out, if they figured it out. She wasn't sure if she ever wanted to face them again. Not if they feared her now, even without the knowledge of what she was. Not if they found her frightening when she was only a watered-down version of what she could have been.

Never figure it out, she pleaded as she gently shut the bathroom door behind her. Never figure out what kind of monster I am.