Janelle Chevalier

7. London

**

The Streets

Janelle woke up, feeling lightheaded and bleary. She looked around, seeing bright lights that only succeeded in making her eyes hurt. She moaned, covering her eyes. Though, that didn't stop the loud noise from giving her a headache.

"Good, you're awake."

The voice cut through her unfocused mind, making her realize that she was leaning against something soft. It took her only a few moments to put two and two together.

Bates had kidnapped her.

She sat up immediately, regretting it only for a moment as the blood rushed from her brain making her dizzy. A hand on her shoulder steadied her.

"How are you feeling?" Bates asked.

"Why do you care?" Janelle managed to glare—to hide her fear—despite the haziness of her mind.

"I am hurt that you asked," he put his other hand on his heart as if to emphasize his point but the smirk on his face deceived that. "After all, I am your 'uncle'," he mocked her.

"I can run and make a scene," she challenged.

"Try that, I bound you to me."

She stared at him.

"Barnett's not the only one who's a mage," he grumbled.

"So you're a shaman yourself and bent on killing shamans? Hypocrite."

"I see that Barnett has already pushed his views onto you," Bates rolled his eyes. "Mages  aren't shamans. We are far superior to shamans. We see spirits, yes, but we control elements and create things when shamans can only communicate with spirits. How pathetic."

"Communicate and Control, please," Janelle replied, a little smirk lingering over the edge of her lips.

Bates narrowed his eyes.

"Now you're talking like him. This whole 'Communicate and Control' thing of his doesn't work. The spirits are stronger than you, they can control you."

"You haven't bothered reading about shamans, have you?"

Bates stayed silent but Janelle wasn't sure if she won the argument or not. She watched him as he looked at his watch. That was when she realized where she was.

They were at the airport.

Her eyes widened as she remembered him saying something about going to England. She sat up straighter in surprise. "You're not taking me to England!" she exclaimed.

"Or would I?" It was his turn to smirk. He stood up, forcing her to get up as well.

She winced at the pain that shot through her leg. "Why are you taking me?" she asked frantically once the pain subdued into nothing but a mere, albeit hot, discomfort.

Bates smiled and it was no way reassuring.

"I have something to deal with, and you're the only one I know who could..." he paused, searching for the right word, "benefit me."

Janelle tried to walk away, ignoring the stinging in her left foot, but an invisible barrier of some sorts hindered her movement after three or so steps. A strand of hair fell over her eyes. That was when she saw her hair wasn't blonde.

Her hair was black.

"W-what?" she asked in disbelief, clutching a handful of her now-black hair.