Unforgettable (OLD COPY DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 17

The ride over is quiet as nothing but the radio's music breaks the silence. I fidget with my sleeve as I try to keep my palm covered, the ugly scab rough against the fabric as I sit hunched in the passenger's seat of her patrol car. Bricked buildings flit past as we head deep into the downtown area, the streets being lined with parked cars as the sidewalks are filled with early, springtime tourism.

At last, we roll up to one of the buildings and she puts her car into park before she shuts it off and gets out. I glance over to see that we're parked in front of a bookstore.

"Come on," she calls to me as I get out, "my apartment is upstairs."

I silently follow her as she heads for a small, black door and opens it as she ushers me inside. A tiny wooden staircase made up of worn-out boards lead up to the second floor where she pulls out a set of keys and unlocks a door that's at the top. She pushes the door open and I'm surprised to see that her cheetah familiar, Flora, is waiting expectantly on the other side.

The cheetah lets out a happy trilling noise, her dark eyes gleaming like polished copper as she turns and trots away. Diana shuts the door behind us as I look around the small, wood floored apartment. A leather couch sits in an open living room, which Flora hops onto as Diana calls out to her.

"Flora, you know you're not allowed on the furniture, your claws scratch up the leather, get off the couch," she chides as the familiar's ears press flat against her head before she gets down.

A glance around the apartment reveals that the living room has a couch, a coffee table and a small TV. The only thing that is colorful are the paintings that are hung up on the walls. There's a portrait of Flora among them and the style reminds me of a Van Gogh painting with the way the colors swirl together.

A brown tabby cat suddenly hobbles over to me and rubs against my leg and I absently reach down to pet it. A purr rumbles in its throat as it blinks up at me and I realize then it only has three feet, which is the reason why it's hobbling. Behind me, Diana sets her keys on the counter and hangs her coat on a hook by the door.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" she asks as she trails off and walks into the nearby kitchen to open the pantry. "I have...uh...some, I have oyster crackers. Never mind, I'll raid Eden's stash downstairs, she likes to make cookies, do you want any?"

"Not right now, thank you," I mutter as I reach up and touch an untrimmed strand of my hair.

"Okay, the bathroom's over this way," she says as she shuts the door to the pantry, relief crossing her face as she leads me down a short hallway. "Just hang in here for a sec, I'm going to grab a barstool."

I nod as I turn on the lights for the bathroom, only to be nearly blinded as I am bombarded by the harsh lighting. The vanity and counter are both white, along with the walls and tile floor as I squint against it. The only thing that has color in the room is the hand towel, which is a bright shade of purple that looks out of place in the midst of the blandness.

Diana returns with a barstool and I sit down as she opens a drawer on the vanity and pulls out a set of scissors. She sets a waste basket on the floor before she pulls my hair back and eyes it uneasily, her face almost comical in the reflection of the mirror over the vanity.

"So...do you...do you want to talk about it?" she inquires as she starts to snip at my hair.

"What do you want me to talk about?" I ask in a sharper voice than I intend to use and I wince as I watch her reaction in the mirror.

"Please don't put me through this," she murmurs and rolls her eyes after a couple of minutes of silently trimming.

I sigh and bite my top lip as I whittle it between my teeth, "Why do you care?"

"Because you just...you remind me of my sister," she says as her voice trails off to just above a whisper.

I look up in the mirror to see that she's staring blankly down at the back of my head, her eyes glassy.

"What happened to her?" I dare to ask and she blinks as she puts the scissors away and shuts the drawer slowly.

"There was an accident, a drunk driver hit us on the passenger's side where Beth was, I had let her ride in the front that day," her eyes are unfocused as I turn around on the barstool to face her. "My mother was knocked unconscious and Beth...I had just turned sixteen so I didn't know any spells to save her...and she wasn't old enough to be able to use magic yet."

Her gaze hardens as she sets her jaw and shakes her head.

"The driver was able to walk away and he didn't serve any prison time," she says at last as she looks me in the eye, "Beth was fourteen, she'd be twenty-five if she had lived...if."

I think of Indigo then and how lost I would be without her as tears start to well up in my eyes and a lump forms in my throat.

"She's the reason why I joined the force," Diana adds, "so I can keep people off the streets when they decide that they want to be selfish and put others at risk."

She turns away but I get up at the last second as I reach out to embrace her.

"I'm sorry," I rasp as my emotions get the better of me, "I can't imagine what it would be like...I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have Indigo or Connor."

For a long moment, she doesn't move or say anything and I feel painfully awkward before I sense the light pressure of her arms reaching down to wrap around me. We stay this way for a brief second before she lets go and looks the other way, but not before I can see that she reaches up toward her face like she's brushing away a tear.

"I just don't want you to harm yourself or get hurt, Beth was all I had," she admits as a sudden, loud scratching noise starts at the door and we startle at the intrusion as I hastily wipe the tears from my eyes.

Diana steps forward and flings the door open to reveal Flora sitting on the other side with the cat crouched next to her. Her cheetah familiar makes a trilling noise as she glowers at us, her ears pressing flat as she stands and shoves her way into the bathroom.

"Flora, get out," Diana protests as she walks out of the bathroom and makes a shooing motion.

Flora glares at her as her tail tip twitches irritably before she trots past her, her claws clicking on the wood in the hallway as she leaves.

"You too, Yardstick," Diana says as she puts her hands on her hips and looks down at the cat.

The cat meows in protest before it hobbles down the hallway after Flora and I pick up the barstool to follow Diana back out into the kitchen.

"Yardstick?" I ask as I set the barstool down.

"She only has three feet," she replies nonchalantly. "But I just want you to promise me that you'll be honest," Diana begins to say as she walks over to the counter and leans against it. "I don't think that you're crazy, there has to be a reason why you're seeing these things that you've told me about."

Her eyes fall toward my hand as she says this and I realize I haven't pulled my sleeve over the scar as her eyes narrow. I pretend not to notice her stare as I try to turn the conversation away from my hand.

"It's just...I'm afraid that I'm always going to be in danger, and with Cynthia being an Unfamiliar..."

"Kara, it's okay that you have PTSD, you're going to have flashbacks but you can't think that you're crazy because of them or that you can't tell anyone," she tells me patiently. "You've been through a lot."

"Thanks," I say in a low voice as I slouch, though all I can think about is my hand.

I can't tell her about Finn. Not yet.

"It's no problem," she says as she offers me a weak smile.