A Drop Of Rain

Chapter Eight

Tarrisa's POV

When I finally wake up again, it's dark. I stand up slowly, trying to remember what happened before I passed out the second time. 

Okay Tara... You were in the bathroom picked shards of glass out of your wounds... and then... And then it was black. I sigh and walk out of the bedroom, or at least one of them. Upon closer inspection of the room I realized that there were two bedrooms, and that the hunter was asleep in one of them. I pause for a moment, staring at him. I roughly remembered how cut up his face was before I fainted. But now there was no sign of any type of cut. I sigh again. It must be a hunter thing, I think. I walk around the corner and stop in front of a large room, housing a T.V., a black leather couch, and a fire place. I sat down, looking around, considering my options. I believed that this hunter truely wanted to help me. But if I was wrong, staying here was like a sitting duck. I could leave, while he was asleep... Why wouldn't he have killed yet if he really didn't want to help you? A voice in my head counters. As my common sense and fight or flight responses begin to battle, I feel a leather covered hand cover my mouth quickly. I try and scream as loudly as possible as the person behind me draws a knife and places the edge against the skin on my arm softly. The cool blade makes me shiver, and I try to sceam again. Any noise I  make, however, is muffled by the gloved hand. 

'Just think of the reward I'll get for bringing in a dead water spirit..." the man's lips were so close to my ear I could feel his breath. He twists the blade ever so slowly, so that the sharp edge begins to dig into my skin, which, believe me, hurts a lot. Thats when I realize I'm still wearing my Chuck Taylors. Maybe... if you kick the floor hard enough... I decide it's worth a try and stomp both my feet onto the carpeted floor. The sound was loud enough to wake a bear from hibernation. But to no avail, the blade digs deeper into my arm. I try again, over and over. And then I give up. The hunter I'd met at the school was obviously working with this one. Or quite possibly, was wielding the knife himself. So this is it, I think, This is how I'm going to die... 

"Gah!" The person behind me gasps in a way that I can only decribe as painfully. The knife falls and the hunters limp body folds over the couch like a rag doll, and knife centered in his back. 

"Is he?..." the young hunter whom I'd been trying to wake up simply nods. I glance down at the new gash on my arm, then back at him.

"Took you long enough," is all I can say.  After a few minutes of awkward silence, he finally speaks.

"I feel kind of stupid. I've saved your life god knows how many times in the past twenty-four hours, and I don't even know your name." There's that brave face again, I think. Because I saw the pain in his eyes. He'd never killed before. "Tarrisa. Tarra for short..." I say quietly.

"Well Tarrisa, you need stiches. And I happen to know a witch who can help with that." I roll my eyes. Witches annoyed me. But I knew he was right, so I nodded. He walks back to the door and I follow.

"Wait," I say. "I still don't know your name..." I look at him expectantly. 

"Tate..." He says and walks out of  the room. 

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As it turns out, the witch couldn't help us. Or at least, wouldn't. She blamed it on a recent magic block that the "King Of The City" a vampire who had created a practical army of people like him that almost everyone feared, but it was really because she didn't get caught helping a water spirit. She'd be killed by so many different groups of supernaturals for that. So my new hunter friend and I left her small shop in the French Quarter, our stomachs growling as we walked. As we walk in front of a fantastic smelling bakery, I stop to enjoy the scent. Tate does the same, and we both glance at each other, exchanging a knowing look. We walk in and order. I have an apple turnover, and Tate gets a double chocolate muffin. We sit as far away from the front as possible, and I sip my iced coffee and thought about how strange it was. Tate... Tate... Tate... The name played over and over in my mind, and I was sure I had heard it before. The memory was on the tip of my tounge, but when I tried to put the pieces together, I got a major migrane. I close my eyes and wince in pain, and when I open them again, I stare at my apple turnover for a moment. I hadn't had one since I was a kid, I didn't even like apple turnovers. I sigh and pick it up anyway, biting into it slowly.

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"We have to protect Tate," my mother says harshly, "It's our duty." 

"Who's Tate?" I ask, biting into my apple turnover. My mother and father exchange worried glances and don't answer my question.

"We have no dut-" my father begins. I'm looking back and forth like a sideways bobble head. My parents didn't fight often. 

"Davina-" this time it is my father who stops my mother mid sentence.

"Do not speak her name." He said sternly.

"Davina may have betrayed us," my mother starts again, "but her child has done nothing wrong!" my mother's face is full of compassion, her eyes misty from tears she'd yet to shed. My father's mouth is in a line, his eyes dark and empty. 

"Her child is an abomination. It will bring chaos to the spirits. I'm not willing to take that chance. 

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When I am finally released from the memory, it's because Tate has grabbed my by the shoulders and is shaking me gently. I sigh and glance away. 

"I'm fine." I say quickly. 

 "You... don't look okay. You look like you've seen a ghost..." he says quietly, his face full of concern. I shake him off of me. I don't bother to tell him that I, in fact, have seen a ghost. 

"I'm fine." I repeat. He sighs and sits back down. After a few minutes, Tate looks past me, clearly annoyed. 

"I can't believe it," I hear him mumble. 

"Can-" I start to ask.

"Be quiet. We need to leave." I furrow my eyebrows and turn around to look at what he had seen. There were three guys, all tall and masculine, dressed in all black. 

"Hunters?" I mouth at him. He nods once  and stands up. He nods towards the back door. I glance back one last time and see that two of the men were talking to the cashier. The third was lingering in the back, glancing around at the shop. When he saw me, he casually began his way over, not bothering to tell his friends where he was going. Tate was holding the back door open for me, expactantly. 

"Tarrisa, we've got to go." I hesitate. 

"What if these are the guys that took Ava?" I whisper harsly. 

"So you're just going to get us killed to maybe save a little girl?" he retorts. I shake my head.

"Not us. Just me. You've helped me enough but if you don't go now you will die." He sighs impaitently, grabbing my wrist.

"You'll thank me for this later." he says, looking me in the eyes. My weakness is nothing compared to his hunter strength, and like that we're on the streets in the French Quarter again. 

"I'm going back in there." I demand sternly as soon as my face hits the sunlight. It's bright enough to make me squint. 

"Good luck with that sweetheart. But I'm not letting go of you." He begins to drag me to another hotel, much like the one we had been in when I'd woken up from the incident at the first coffee shop. I sigh. 

"That was my one chance to help that little girl."

"She's dead Tarrisa. I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but if a hunter outside of the Institute has her, shes already dead." We were in another room by this point, the new one just as elaborate as the last. I shake my head, unable to believe what was most likely true. The Institute doesn't kill Air and Earth spirits, but The Institute wasn't the only group of hunters out there. Yanking my wrist from Tate's grasp, I run into the nearest room, which happened to be the bathroom. I lean with my back to the cold tile wall for support, in front of me is a mirror. My hair's a mess, my face is streaked with tears, and yet none of that mattered. The tears welled up in my eyes again and I fall slowly, my back still against the wall, curled up in a ball on the floor. I take the time to reflect on everything that has happened in the past two days, and end up crying myself to sleep.