The campus was bathed in darkness. Only a few, flickering lamps lit the path towards the dormitories. It was quiet; no students wandered the grounds. They were all in the dormitories, the libraries and the late-night coffee houses.
All except for one. She was young, probably no more than a freshman. Her long, blond hair flew in front of her face as she stumbled down the concrete path. Her shoulder bled freely, staining her ivory camisole. She tripped over her feet, slamming into the ground. Her palm scrapped against the concrete, the skin grating off.
“Somebody help me!” Her voice was a desperate cry as she scrambled back to her feet. She looked back over her shoulder, anxiously searching for the predator that stalked her.
A slender hand touched her shoulder as she was turned. She let out a gasp, whirling back around. She faced the person in front of her, not knowing if it was saviour or damnation.
It was a boy.
He couldn’t have been the one chasing her. The smile on his sweet face was innocent and unassuming. His blue eyes sparkled with friendliness. His wiry form was completely unintimidating, the pile of computer manuals he carried appearing to weigh more than he did.
“What’s wrong?” He furrowed his brow, cocking his head in concerned question. “I heard you scream.”
She turned her head. What had happened to her pursuer? She licked her lips, relieved to not see any sign of them. Maybe they had given up. Maybe she had outrun them. “There was someone after me. They’ve been chasing me all the way from the CoHo.”
The boy frowned slightly, looking over her shoulder and searching the barren path. The corners of his mouth curved in a gentle smile. “Well, there doesn’t seem to be anyone after you now. I think you’re safe.”
Pushing her hair out of her face, she nervously bit her lip. “Well, I’m safe now. You probably scared them off. Do you think…?” She smiled back at him, batting her eyelashes coyly. He seemed a bit nerdy for her usual taste, but he would do. “You could walk me back to my sorority house?”
She could feel his eyes on her, raking up and down her form. He was studying her carefully. Not that she minded. He wasn’t scary at all and if his attraction to her made it easier, all the better. He readjusted his books and freed a hand. He held it out to her. “Come on.”
Accepting the hand, she smiled gratefully. “Thanks a lot. I really hate walking alone. I feel much better with you here.”
“What’s your name?” He asked, leading her down the path towards the dormitories.
“Stephanie,” she replied, licking her lips.
He looked out over the campus, seemingly still on the look out for whatever had been chasing her. Well, he was certainly chivalrous. “You probably shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” he commented. “You never know what’s lurking.”
Stephanie stared at his carotid artery. She smirked, her features contorting. Her brow fell, wrinkled. She ran her tongue along her lengthening fangs. She felt the throb of his heartbeat and could scent his warm blood. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”
She let out a soft growl as she moved in for the kill. He smelled good.
The heavy books the boy was carrying connected hard with her nose. Stephanie stumbled backwards, her wrist snapping as he twisted it easily in his thin hand.
Stephanie wiped her nose, blood dripping from the nostril. She glared at the boy, hissing at him and baring her fangs. “I’m not much of a fighter.”
He reached into his jacket, withdrawing a wooden stake. He wielded it, smirking with confidence. “Demon’s a really bad occupation for you then, isn’t it?
Stephanie growled at her opponent. She leapt up, connecting her foot hard with his mouth. The boy flew backwards, tumbling into the bushes lining the path. A hunter. She knew of them, of course. Never had the opportunity to meet one. Oh, no wonder he smelled so good. There was strength there.
“Don’t like to,” She strode towards the bushes, snarling as she approached his crumpled form. She laughed and gnashed her teeth. “Doesn’t mean I can’t.”
She gaped in shock and stumbled backwards as the hunter recovered from the hit, leaping into the air with absolutely no momentum. No mere human could have managed such a jump, even if they were a hunter. He balled his fist, slamming it into Stephanie’s stomach. The hit was much too powerful to have come from so slight a human.
She lurched backwards, hitting the pavement. She scrambled backwards, shaking her head in disbelief as the slender man approached her, his weapon still clenched in his fist. “That’s not possible… It couldn’t have been you who was after me…”
“Actually, I was just coming from the library.” He slammed the stake through her ribcage without any effort. Stephanie’s mouth widened in shock as her body disintegrated into dust.
Connor Reilly coughed as the vampire dust blew into his face. He waved it away to clear the air. “But it’s nice to know there’s another vampire hunter around.”
He tucked the stake back into his jacket. He cracked his jaw, the coppery taste of blood still on his tongue. It wasn’t a bad kick. That thing had split his lower lip. He didn’t break all that easily.
He knelt down, gathering up his scattered books. He’d never used them as a weapon before, but he supposed any port in a storm. As he picked up The C++ Programming Language, the cover fell away. He groaned softly, letting his head fall back. “Oh great. Now I’m going to have to pay a fine.”
The Nyazian Prophecies
Episode 1×01: Resurrection
Connor stepped into the bright fluorescent light of the CoHo. After being out in the dark night, it was harsh on his eyes. He blinked, trying to readjust to the drastic change. He licked his plush lower lip, still tasting blood there.
The CoHo was filled with small tables, all of them occupied by students, their books, and their laptops. None of them had any clue what had happened only a few feet away from the door. They were all too busy working on papers.
Connor raised his chin, sniffing the air. He darted his gaze around the room. Had that vampire been a solo artist, or was there a gang?
He didn’t think it was any more vampires. They gave off a distinct scent: like clotted blood and ash. But there was something different there. The scent of human blood was heavy in air, but there was something else. He couldn’t put his finger on it…
“Chess team get a little rough, Ace?”
Connor turned towards the counter. He couldn’t help but break into a goofy smile at the sight of the pretty girl at the cash register. She leaned in slightly, her low cut top giving a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Her vibrantly purple hair shone in the light. She grinned brightly at him.
After another quick scan of the room, thoughts of vampires and other creatures of the night quickly left Connor’s mind. Everything seemed safe enough. He could concentrate on his own interests. He bounded up to the counter, still grinning brightly. “What can I say? Those nerds can be really mean when they lose.” He set his books down on the counter and leaned towards the girl. “So what’s up, Sal? You don’t normally work this late.”
Salome Simpson wrinkled her nose as she picked up a rag. She began to wipe down the counters, rolling her eyes. “Freddie didn’t show up for his shift. I was begged to work a double. Which sucks to the highest degree. It’s like they forget I go to school here too.” She sighed deeply, pushing an errant lock of hair out of her face, tucking it back over her ear. “You want some coffee?”
Connor shook his head. “No.” He then put a hand to his bleeding lip. “Some ice would be good though.” He then ran that same hand through his shaggy brown hair. Vampire dust slid out of it. “If I have coffee this late, I’ll be up all night driving Jamie up the wall.”
Salome put some ice in a clean towel. The purple beaded bracelets on her left hand clicked against a cross that dangled from her wrist. She held out the makeshift icepack to him, smiling flirtatiously. “I was under the impression you did that anyway.”
Connor scowled slightly, putting the icepack against his lower lip. She went back to work cleaning up. She bent down to pick up a spoon that had fallen down. Connor’s eyebrows raise as he leaned in to get a better view. “So… When do you get off of work?”
Salome glanced back over her shoulder. She smiled at him. “Closing.” She bit her lip. “Why do you–?”
“ Ahem .” They both jumped at the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat next to Connor. “Can I please have some service?”
Salome held up a finger to Connor. “Be right back.”
He watched Salome as she went about her business. He’d met her the first time he had come in to the CoHo his first week of school. He never saw her outside, despite his best efforts. He really didn’t know all that much about her. They didn’t talk much outside some feeble flirting. She was really nice, always sneaking him free food during his long study sessions. He did know that she was the same year as him and an Art History major. He also knew he felt drawn to her. He’d had other flirtations during school, but he still always seemed to end up at the CoHo, flirting with Salome. There was something special about her.
The ringing of the cash register shook Connor out of his reverie. The rude customer moved on and Salome had turned her attention back onto Connor. “Why do you ask, Connor?”
Connor moved the ice away from his mouth, grinning broadly. “I thought we could go out.”
Salome crinkled her nose, looking at him curiously. “Why would you want to go out with me, Ace?”
Connor leaned against his textbooks, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “Maybe purple is my favourite colour?”
Salome slid back over, leaning in close to him. Her lips were only a breath from his. He could feel her warmth, the thrum of her heartbeat. “How many times have you asked me out in the last year?”
Connor drew back, ticking off on his fingers and calculating in his head. He furrowed his brow. “Two… Hundred… Give or take?”
“Pretty much every time you come in here.” Salome leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “So… Why the persistence?”
Connor gave her a small smile. He didn’t want to seem like he was bothering her. “You never actually turn me down.”
He didn’t want to tell her about the draw he felt to her. He thought it would scare her off. He told himself he would be okay if she did tell him to back off, that it was just idle flirtation.
“Do you want me to stop?” Connor felt his heart clench. How had he not realized how attached he was to their little ritual?
“Not really,” Salome replied. Connor let out a sigh of relief. She hopped the counter and sauntered to a vacated table, cleaning up the empty cups and plates. “But I am actually too busy. My nights are jam packed.”
Connor’s head jerked up. He smelled something acrid in the air: ash and blood. A boy and a girl walked from the back of the café towards the door. The boy’s arm was slung over the girl’s shoulders. They were giggling and whispering softly to each other. Connor ignored their chatter, centring in on something much softer. The girl’s heart was pounding in her chest with the excitement of a hook-up. The boy lacked any such rhythm.
With a deep sigh, he pushed past Salome and headed towards the door with determination. He could feel the stake in the pocket of his jacket. He narrowed his gaze on the retreating couple. He glanced over his shoulder, giving Salome a rueful smile. “I know all about busy nights.”
Connor’s body ached as he dragged himself through the hallways of his apartment building. His jacket was torn open at the shoulder, blood soaking through the tan fabric. His ears were ringing and his body ached as he walked slowly towards his door.
The boy was– no, had been– an older vampire. He wasn’t a master by any means. He was a few decades, maybe a century. It had been just old enough to make the fight interesting.
As his body complained, Connor wondered why he was compelled to go kill vampires. Why did he care if the fight was interesting? He hadn’t given it a lot of thought in the few months he had been doing it.
But no, it had not just been a few months he had been killing vampires. Connor had fought demons since he was a small child. It was what he was raised to do. It was what he was born to do. He was the Destroyer.
It was only the spell cast on him by his birth father that had made him forget the world of the supernatural. He had been given a vacation from the blood and death and violence of that world.
He had tried to ignore it. He wanted desperately to forget what lurked in the dark. But every time he saw another vampire sneaking off with some helpless student, he had to follow. He had to hunt the beasts before they hurt someone else.
His stomach always did flip-flops when those people he saved thanked him. Like the girl he’d rescued tonight. She had been so grateful she’d kissed him on the cheek. Her red lipstick still marked his skin. That was probably the best part about fighting demons again. Those people would be safe.
Every time he fought, words echoed in his head:
Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. – It’s harsh, and cruel. – But that’s why there’s us. Champions. It doesn’t matter where we come from, what we’ve done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be.
Angel had said that what felt like a lifetime ago. Connor hadn’t understood it then. He wasn’t a Champion, Angel had said that himself. Was he trying to be one now? No, he didn’t hunt down demons all the time. If he saw them, he would kill them. But he didn’t want it to go further. It wasn’t his life any longer.
Angel had given up so much to protect him. He didn’t want to throw away that gift. He would live and die as Connor Reilly, an average computer programmer with superpowers who occasionally killed vampires. Nothing more.
He took hold of the doorknob, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He was completely and utterly exhausted. He opened the door and smiled tiredly.
“Man, you just keep getting in later and later.”
Connor glanced over at his roommate. James Black the Third was sprawling his chair, his legs draped over the top of the desk. His light brown hair was mussed, thick black-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. A textbook was balanced precariously on his thighs.
After kicking off his shoes, Connor collapsed on the couch. He turned onto his side, yawning. “Just can’t seem to stay away from the library.”
Jamie frowned slightly and pushed his glasses back up. “Why don’t you have your books then?”
Connor opened his mouth, but he couldn’t think of a good reason why he didn’t have his books. Until that moment, he didn’t even realize that he had left them on the counter at the CoHo. “I think I was just that tired that I left them.”
“Here I thought you might have a new chick.” Jamie grinned at him teasingly.
Connor groaned. His love life– aside from idle flirtation with a barista– was hardly impressive. “I should be so lucky. I’ve been on my lonesome as of late.”
Jamie’s grin widened and he pointed towards Connor’s face. “That lipstick mark on your face says different.”
Connor wiped at his cheek with his hand, the crimson makeup coming off on his palm. He scowled deeply. “Oh, stop looking smug. It’s not what you think.”
“Don’t presume to know what I think,” Jamie shot back. He pushed his textbook onto the desk, swinging his feet down. “I think that if you were getting some play, you’d never shut up about it and I’d have to ask you to move out just to get some peace and quiet.”
“You’re not wrong,” Connor murmured, snuggling into the armrest of the couch. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course, I wouldn’t have time to go on about it seeing as I would die of shock.”
“Ah, but you’ll get a social life before me.” Jamie shut his textbook. He rose from the desk chair and walked to the couch, pushing Connor’s legs off to give him a place to sit. “At least you have some time when you’re not studying.”
“Price you pay for being a big old genius,” Connor muttered. He yawned audibly. “Us lesser mortals may not be able to assemble a Doomsday Device, but at least we have the possibility of getting laid, however slim.”
“ Very slim,” Jamie retorted. “And you used to spend an awful lot of time buried under books. Now you’re forgetting them at the library.”
Connor sighed deeply. Frankly, he would have welcomed worrying about his homework again. Lately, it seemed like college was less a place for him to learn and more a place to hunt vampires. As much as he told himself he would only do it when he came across them, he was coming across them more and more. After he became aware of what he was, he killed one, maybe two vampires a week. Now it seemed like every night there was another demon lurking.
“Oh, before I forget… Your dad called.” Jamie pulled a lime green Post-It Note out of his pocket, holding it out to Connor. “He left a number for you to call.”
Connor’s tiredness was overridden by his curiosity. He sat up, blinking blearily. He ran his fingers through his hair. He had just spoken to his dad the day before. “Really. Is everything–?”
He stared down at the Post-It. There wasn’t a message, just a very, very long phone number. He didn’t even recognize the international calling code. His stomach churned.
“So what’s with the globetrotting number?” Jamie asked, sliding his glasses off and putting them in his pocket.
Connor frowned, eyes riveted to the scrawled numbers. “He’s–” Lawrence Reilly was at home. He wouldn’t even bother to leave a number, let alone one that probably cost five dollars a minute. Angel, on the other hand… Well, Connor hadn’t heard from him in months, since they’d fought together at Wolfram and Hart. This phone number was actually the first sign he had received that Angel was still alive. If it wasn’t a trap. “Business trip,” he muttered, hoping it sounded at all convincing.
“On the other side of the world?” Jamie asked, frowning deeply. He looked somewhat disbelieving. Not that Connor blamed him. Lawrence Reilly wasn’t exactly in an international business.
Connor paused, going through the excuses in his mind. He had grown more comfortable with the idea of Angel as his father. The old memories had integrated with his new ones, but he didn’t know if he really wanted to tell Jamie: I’m actually the son of two vampires and my father took down the evilest evil organization of all times in an attempt to halt their Apocalypse and if he’s still alive, he’s running for his undead life.
Connor liked living with Jamie and he really didn’t want his best friend at school to think he had lost his mind. Hell, Connor sometimes thought he had lost his mind and he lived through it all. “Convention… On the other side of the world.”
“If you’re going to call him back, we’re so not splitting on the phone bill this month.” Jamie put his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s bad enough that I saved your ass from dormitory living this year.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Connor muttered absent-mindedly. He put the Post-It down on the coffee table beside Jamie’s feet. He stood up, huffing out a deep breath. “I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to go to bed.” He couldn’t deal with Angel at the moment. He would call him after he got some sleep. His mind could barely process the conversation with Jamie, let alone one with his biological father.
“Be careful passing by Jules’s room.” Jamie warned as he turned on the TV. He stretched out lazily on the couch.
“She’s asleep?” Connor frowned and looked back towards the room. “Usually she’s still up studying.”
“Oh, she’s still up.” Jamie began to flip through the channels. He glanced back, giving Connor a teasing smile. “I just don’t think I can stand hearing my sister get a flustery because you’re in. You would think she’d get over it already. When I say you’re going to get action first, I don’t mean her.”
Connor shook his head and rolled his eyes, continuing to his room. He tread carefully passed Jules’s door. He opened the door to his room and sighed. Shutting the door behind him, he began to carefully peel off of his clothing until he was in his boxers.
He winced, touching his shoulder. The wound had already closed, but hurt like hell. The vampires were getting rougher. Or maybe he was getting slower. He needed to watch that. If he was going to be hunting, he needed to keep himself in top shape.
He fell back onto his bed, putting his hands behind his head. The vampires were coming more frequently. Angel, for the first time in months, was contacting him. Something was coming.
He just wasn’t sure he wanted to know what.
A hooded figure walked through a darkened room. The only lighting was a few flickering candles surrounding a throne. The figure knelt down in front of the throne. Manicured hands reached up, pulling away the hood and revealing a beautiful face crowned by deep red hair. She bowed her head deeply. “Master.”
Her Master was robed as she had been, but did not pull back his hood. Yellow eyes glowed from the shadows. “Clarice.” He reached out, stroking her fiery locks. His voice was low and raspy. “Rise.”
Clarice stood back up. Her beautiful visage morphed into that of a vampire. She growled softly. “Stephanie and Christopher were slain tonight. It was him. He is killing more and more of my brethren every day.” Her gentle British accent was a stark contrast to the ferocity of her demonic features.
Clarice’s Master remained calm, leaning back in his throne. He folded his hands neatly. “Does this bother you, Clarice?”
Clarice shook her head. Another growl escaped her lips as she exposed her fangs. “I don’t care about those children. They were foolish, hunting in such a heavily populated area. But I don’t understand why you won’t let me kill him.”
“You have already earned your place,” Her master’s voice held a note of warning. “His death does not concern you.”
“But Master–“
“His death does not concern you!” A hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat. He couldn’t kill her by choking her. She had not breath. But there were so many other things those hands could do to her to bring her demise. “Whether or not the Destroyer dies is not up to you. I want him alive. I want him to be what he is meant to be, not this pathetic echo. He cannot deny what he is. Every day he comes closer to showing his true nature. His killing of your offspring proves that.”
The hand loosened its grip and caressed Clarice lovingly. “I promise you will not go wanting.”
Clarice nodded, shivering underneath the touch of her Master. “What is our next move, Master?”
The hand drifted up to her cheek, cupping it. His thumb caressed her wrinkled forehead. “The time has come to give our boy a very clear message. He won’t be able to resist when something he cares about is in danger.”
His free hand pushed open Clarice’s robe. He pushed down her shirt slightly, pressing his hand to her clavicle. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I am ever faithful…” Clarice laboured out the words as the thorned circle tattooed on her flesh began to burn. “I pledge myself to the Circle…”
“Okay, so would you rather be with Mary Jane and have to keep a secret identity or Rogue and be able to tell her everything, but you have a super screwed up relationship?” Jamie walked down the street. On top of all of his textbooks were several comics.
“Huh?” Connor blinked, trying to remember what Jamie had said. He hadn’t been listening at all. Something about someone and something… No, he had nothing. “What were we talking about?”
Jamie sighed and shook his head. He pushed his glasses up as best he could without disturbing his books. “Dude, it’s really hard to have a meaningful conversation with you when you’re staring off into the ether and not listening. Have some priorities, man.”
Connor rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks growing hot. He didn’t know what they had been talking about still. In fact, he was a little unclear why he was walking with Jamie in the first place. Connor had already finished his last class of the day. Were they going somewhere in particular? They weren’t on the way home. “I’m just really distracted right now. Sorry.”
He had been thinking about the sun. It felt like it was beating down on him, even as it neared sunset. He also remembered when the sun had disappeared, when he fought vampires outside at noon. He thought about the air. It was so clean. In Quortoth, the air was thick with the stench of blood. It had reeked of death and brimstone.
He hadn’t slept well. His dreams were plagued by memories of his life from before. The phone call from Angel remained a question he was not ready to ask. It plagued him, seeped deep into his subconscious. It made his heart pound and his head ache.
“You know, Connor… If you don’t mind me saying…” Jamie paused, grimacing. He had stopped walking along the path, shaking his head at his friend. “You’ve been acting really weird lately. Like… Worrying weird.”
Connor halted and glanced over his shoulder. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look as intimidating as his small, lithe body would allow. He might not have looked it, but Jamie should have been scared of him in that moment. “I mind.”
Apparently Connor had underestimated his scowl because Jamie tensed, putting his books in front of him like a shield. “I seriously didn’t mean it as an insult. It’s all about the concern. We’ve known each other for– what? A Year? A year and a half? We’re friends. Best friends. And you’ve been acting really strangely.”
“What do you mean strangely ?” Connor tried to calm his defences. He looked down, kicking at a stray pebble on the walkway. He had been trying very hard to keep his nocturnal activities from Jamie. He supposed it was inevitable he would notice that something was up. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out and Jamie was, in fact, a rocket scientist.
“You come back to the apartment at all hours, usually with blood on you. You’re always yelling out in your sleep. Some really bad dreams.” Jamie took a deep breath. “Just… Level with me, Reilly… Are you in a gang?”
Connor was about to spit back a fast retort when was Jamie had said sunk in. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He then burst out into laughter, nodding his head. “Oh yeah, I’m in a gang. We’re calling ourselves ‘The Skinny Geeks Who Will Never Get Laid or Intimidate Anyone.’ Do you want to join?” He shook his head and gave Jamie a playful shove. “Dumbass.”
Unfortunately, the shove was much harder than Connor had anticipated. Jamie’s books flew up into the air and Jamie himself was sent sprawling onto the pavement. He let out a cry of distress as he hit the ground.
“Dammit!” Connor knelt down, mentally kicking himself. He still hadn’t completely adjusted to having his powers back. He should have known better. He should’ve been much more gentle. He offered Jamie a hand and a feeble, apologetic smile. “Sorry?”
Jamie rubbed the back of his head. His glasses were hanging off of one ear, crooked on his face. He accepted Connor’s hand. “I guess someone has been eating his spinach.”
Connor heaved Jamie to his feet with very little effort, then knelt to collect the scattered books. “I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t. I guess I just don’t know my own strength sometimes.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Jamie adjusted his glasses and took the books as Connor handed them to him. He clutched them tightly to his chest. He let out a laugh. “Probably a good thing anyway. We were getting dangerously close to Movie of the Week territory.”
“Totally agree.” Connor nodded firmly. The more questions Jamie asked, the more Connor had to lie. Or worse, the closer Jamie would get to discovering the truth of what– who– he was. Best they left it to geeky conversations and lusting after Co-Eds. “I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to worry. No gangs for me. I’m just really clumsy.”
Before Jamie had the chance to probe deeper, a thin blonde in glasses ran towards them. “Hey!” She was grinning broadly, clutching books to her chest. Jules always looked so happy. Connor didn’t think he had ever seen someone with such a sunny disposition, not even Fred. Of course, Jamie had his own theories as to why she was always happy around Connor.
“Hey there, Jules.” Jamie wrapped an arm around her shoulders , giving her a tight squeeze. He seemed to have forgotten all about his questions for Connor and their little incident before. “How is my favourite little sister doing?”
Jules blushed deeply, looking down. “I’m kind of lost. You’re the first people I’ve seen in an hour that I recognize. I’m looking for the Crown Library.”
Jamie groaned, letting go of Jules immediately. “It’s been a month, Jules. A month . You’re a law student . You should know where the Crown Library is by this point.”
“Oops?” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled sweetly. “Is just sort of… Goes out of my head. Connor, do you think you could maybe show me where it is?”
“Me?” Connor pointed at himself before looking around to see if there was maybe another Connor in the vicinity. “You want me to show you?”
Jules nodded. She gestured to her brother. “Well, Jamie has his books. It looks like he’s going to class. And it might be nice to have a walk together to the library. It’s really pretty around there. Please Connor?”
Jamie rolled his eyes and dug into his backpack. He produced a map and set it on top of Jules’s books. “Here you go. You’ve got your very own map of the campus. I will carry one around at all times until you figure out where the hell you’re going. Now get out of here. We were having an important conversation.”
Jules scowled. “You’re a jerk, Jamie.” She turned, her long hair flipped as she went and she ran off.
“Jules!” Connor called after her. He pointed in the other direction. “It’s that way.”
Jules sheepishly turned and went off in the correct way. Jamie sighed and gestured towards his retreating sister. “And that is the child my father prefers over me.”
“What?” Connor frowned. He shrugged. “I think Jules is really sweet.”
“Of course you do.” Jamie slapped Connor on the shoulder, having much less impact on him than Connor had had on Jamie. “She’s desperately in love with you.”
Connor smiled, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He’s really never had a girl with a crush on him before. Not that he could remember for real. “What can I say? I can’t help my animal magnetism. But really, you should be nicer to her. She’s your sister. She’s family.”
Jamie appeared to be unmoved by Connor’s point. “It just bugs me that the little space cadet gets all of the attention just because she’s trundling along in his footsteps. I have a legitimate shot to work for NASA but that’s not going to be enough for him.”
“Come on.” Connor jerked his head down the street. “You’ve got class to get to. Get great grades. Show your dad being a genius is just as good as a lawyer.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Jamie furrowed his brow, continuing down the street. “You know, you’ve got it good. At least your dad isn’t a soulless, bloodsucking fiend.”
Connor faltered, nearly tripping over his own feet. He recovered himself before he fell, but still it was very unlike him. At least maybe Jamie would start to believe he really was clumsy and that was why he was always injured. “Why would you say that?”
“Never heard any bad lawyer jokes before? Okay. That makes… No sense. Seriously, Reilly… You’re the height of weird.” But still, Jamie smiled. “But before weirdness happened, we were who would you rather-ing.”
“Right.” Connor nodded, vaguely remembering those words, but not at all focused on them. “So who were we who would you rather-ing?”
Jamie grinned, seemingly satisfied that he finally had Connor’s attention. “Mary Jane Watson, but you have to keep a secret identity from her… Or Rogue, who you can tell everything to, but you have a massive screwed up relationship?”
Connor strode beside Jamie and considered the question deeply. He supposed– given his own personal circumstances– the answer was obvious. Thought the idea of being any sort of comic book character had lost its appeal since he had recovered his old memories. “I really don’t know…”
Both he and Jamie paused at the sound of a new voice behind them: “Personally, I think the real question is who would you rather be: Peter Parker or Gambit? But I suppose you already know which ones of those you would be.”
Connor turned slowly to face the interloper. He was dressed completely in black, topped with a leather duster. His blond hair was slicked back in a style that seemed unnatural on the man. He wore mirrored sunglasses over his eyes. All in all, it was a parody of intimidating, like he was just two seconds out of a Matrix convention.
Connor wasn’t sure if he should cringe in embarrassment or quirk his eyebrow in confusion. He was sure his expression was somewhere in the middle. “And who the hell are you?”
The new arrival smiled mysteriously. “Wells.” He pulled off his sunglasses. “Andrew Wells. And we really need to talk, Connor.”