Starlight

Desperation - James

She's running. She's actually running.

"Maya!" I yell, dashing over the landing and down the stairs. I'm a faster runner than her - maybe I will catch her.

Out the front door I go, not bothering to slam it behind me. The driveway is long and Maya has parked right at the bottom. My hunter body finds the chase thrilling, but the fact that I'm running after her to explain paired with my shoe-less feet hitting the rough gravel is enough to keep me from thinking of her as prey. "Maya, come back!"

She is in my sights as I turn the corner, nudging the swaying branches of the trees that grow on our property out of my path. She cowers in front of her car, fumbling in her coat pocket for her keys, looking as if she's hyperventilating. Her hair has come free of its tight 'do and slaps against her face in the wind. As I near her, I can hear desperate whimpering and know that showing my weapon room to a witch possibly wasn't the best idea.

"Maya," I repeat, reaching out to comfort her, but before I know it, her hand has whipped out and back again. I snatch my injured arm back, inspecting it briefly to find the only damage being a bright red patch on my tan skin.

Maya gasps at what she has done, squeezing her eyes shut in disbelief at her own actions. She slides down the car's side until she crouches on the ground, fingers crushed in the gravel.

"Stay away from me, hunter," she spits, voice venomous, but her words lack force. This alone is enough to make me feel sympathetic towards her.

"It's okay," I murmur, squatting before her. When her hand comes at me this time, I am ready, and catch it in my own. Her head cocks in surprise as she regards me, eyes red. "I won't hurt you, as long as you don't hurt me," I assure her.

Her eyes narrow to slits and she snaps, "Wherever would you get the idea that I could hurt you? I don't have any stupid magic."

Suddenly I'm laughing, but it is humourless. Maya's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "Maya, of course you have magic. You have more than I've even seen."

Any barrier - any resistance - she had built against me has now collapsed - buckled. She looks up into my face in wonder. "You can see my magic?" she breathes, taken aback by my passion.

"Yes."

"What.....what does it look like?" she asks me.

"It's like this great light that makes your skin glow. Yours - it's gold and lights up your whole being. It's beautiful - you're beautiful."

For what seems like a life time, we're just staring at one another. Like magnets attracting, we near each other slowly, until our foreheads are almost touching.

"You think I'm beautiful," she states, rather than asks.

"Yes," I whisper.

"I - I don't know what to say," she murmurs.

"Then don't say anything."

Her lids flutter closed. I can feel her breath, heavy with need.

My father's van barrels up the driveway, making me flinch away from Maya. She glances away, as if hurt, but doesn't speak.

Pursing my lips, I get to my feet, brushing dirt from my clothes. I move to help Maya, but she ignores me and rises alone, not meeting my gaze.

The van grinds to a stop by us, the rumbling engine halted. Father opens the door and jumps out, striding towards us. His eyes land on Maya and his brow furrows in frustration, like he is trying to figure something out but can't quite do it.

I clear my throat. "Hi, Dad. Good day at work?"

Instead of answering, he asks, "Who's your friend?" Stress on the "friend."

"Err...Dad, this is Maya. Maya, meet my dad."

Maya fixes my father with a beaming smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I'm not surprised; my father is a ruthless hunter. But she doesn't know that.

"Nice to meet you....."

"Dean. Call me Dean."

She grins. "Nice to meet you, Dean," she says.

"Why don't you come in for a drink?" my father invites her.

"Oh, no! That's not necessary," she says with a little laugh. "I was just leaving - but thank you."

From her coat pocket she finds her car keys. Wielding a satisfied smile, she unlocks her car and opens the door. "See you at school, James," she says, throwing me a meaningful look.

My father and I watch her drive away - he even waves. We head back up to the house in silence, and he doesn't share this thoughts with me until we are safe in our home, doors locked.

"You can pick 'em," he grumbles, arching a single brow.

"So you - like her?" I ask hopefully. That hope is that he hasn't sensed she is a witch. God knows we'll be in trouble if he does.

"Seems nice enough," he says after a while. "But there's something not right about her - and I'm gonna find out what."