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- QUOTE OF THE DAY!,(;
- Polls & Pictures!,(:
- Summary & Characters,(:
- More On The Characters!,(:
- Prologue!,(:
- Chapter One!,(:
- Chapter Two!,(:
- Chapter Three!,(:
- Chapter Four!,(:
- Chapter Five!,(:
- Chapter Six!,(:
- Chapter Seven!,(:
- Chapter Eight!,(:
- Chapter Nine!,(:
- Chapter Ten!,(:
- Chapter Eleven!,(:
- Chapter Twelve!,(:
- Chapter Thirteen!,(:
- Chapter Fourteen!,(:
- Chapter Fifteen!,(:
- Chapter Sixteen!,(:
- Chapter Seventeen!,(:
- Chapter Eighteen!,(:
- Chapter Nineteen!,(:
- Chapter Twenty!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-One!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Two!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Three!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Four!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Five!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Six!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Seven!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Eight!,(:
- Chapter Twenty-Nine!,(:
- Chapter Thirty!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-One!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Two!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Three!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Four!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Five!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Six!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Seven!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Eight!,(:
- Chapter Thirty-Nine!,(:
- Chapter Forty!,(:
- Chapter Forty-One!,(:
- Chapter Forty-Two!,(:
- Chapter Forty-Three!,(:
- Chapter Forty-Four!,(:
- Chapter Forty-Five!,(:
- Chapter Forty-Six!,(:
- Chatper Forty-Seven!,(:
- Chapter Forty-Eight!,(:
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE!(:
~*~*~*~*~
“I’ve got to go,” Charisma let the phone go, and it snapped back onto the receiver. She turned around, and saw that the man who was just standing there wasn’t there. She let her mind wander, to when he first came to find her. A couple days ago… Charisma slammed the book down on the table, pulling on her hair and leaning back on her couch. “Damn it!” she yelled to herself, and let out a groan. She turned towards her kitchen, snapping her fingers to bring a bag of candy from the top drawer towards herself without getting up. “Mhm.” She said, picking out a blue airhead from the bag. “Blue airheads, huh?” a voice said behind her. “I’m more into the red ones myself.” They took a blue airhead from the bag and sat down on the couch across from her, planting their feet on the table. “How the hell did you get in my house!?” she yelled, jumping to her feet and knocking the candy over. “You left the door open,” they smiled wickedly under a layer of dark hair. “No I didn’t!” she argued. “All right, fine,” they shrugged. “I came in your window.” “How!?” she questioned, then tried to compose herself. “I came in through the window,” it said slowly-as if she didn’t get it the first time. “As in, you left it open and I got in.” “I never leave my windows open.” She growled, taking in a deep breath to calm herself. “Well, you did this morning. I didn’t just magically show up in your house.” It leaned back, putting its hands behind it’s head lazily. “Who and what are you?” Charisma hissed. “I’m one of two of my kind,” “One of two?” Charisma said. “Who’s the other?” “That’s what I came here to find out,” “Are you a boy or a girl?” she asked sharply, glaring at the figure seated no her couch. “A boy,” he pulled his shirt into his fist and stretched it over his skin really tight. She found herself looking at his abs, the toned and flexed muscles pushed up against the skin. He had 6, or at least that’s the only thing she saw before he started talking again. “I don’t have boobs.” “Obviously not,” she said acidly. He let his shirt go, and it became loose on him. It almost made him look chubby from where she was looking at him. “If you want, I’ll take off my pants and prove that I’m a boy.” He said, looking up at her with hair in his face. “That’s okay,” she breathed, taking in a sharp breath; just the idea of him in his boxers sent pleasant shivers up her spine. “You could get a haircut.” “I’m a wanted fugitive, I don’t have time for haircuts.” He stated dryly. “I can’t have a wanted fugitive in my house.” She retored. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a master of disguise,” he gave another sinful smile, and his body started to change. Charisma blinked and found that the local sheriff was sitting on her couch with his feet on her table. “Put your hands up.” He said, throwing the gun towards her. “Why’d you hand me the gun?” she asked. “Because I have no use for it.” He shrugged. “Could you change back to what you really look like? The sheriff thing is strange.” She glared at him. He changed back, taking the form of the boy she’d just seen on the couch. “Better?” he said. “No, your hair is still too long.” She said stubbornly. “I can’t cut my own hair.” He said defensively. Charisma raised her hand, about to snap her fingers but he had her hand turned over behind her back before she could even blink. “Don’t do that.” He said in a deeper voice. “Don’t do what? I was just going to clean up the airhead mess.” She lied. | “No you weren’t,” he let out a short-almost laughing-sound. “You were going to snap your little fingers and have a pair of scissors cut my hair for me.” “So?” she said, wondering how he’d gotten to her so fast. “You can’t just take me to the barber like a normal person would?” he let her hand go and got back on the couch. “What’s the fun in that?” she asked, relaxing slightly. “It’s more fun than snapping your fingers.” He said. “Whatever,” she said acidly. “What are you really here for?” “I told you before, if you were listening,” he picked up an airhead from the floor and unwrapped it slowly. “I’m looking for the other of my kind, and you can help me find it.” “What is it?” she sat down on the couch, and held her head high as she looked at him. “It’s hard to explain, so I’m not going to explain it,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Then why did you come here?” Charisma picked up an air head that was laying on the floor and popped it into her mouth. “I’ve heard about you, and I thought you could help me. But if you can’t, I’ll just be going.” He headed towards the front door, turning slowly. “Now wait a minute! I never said I couldn’t help you!” she took a step towards him. “Then why won’t you help me?” he asked skeptically, his hair still in his face. “I never said I wouldn’t, you just said I wouldn’t and—” she stopped short. “You just used reverse psychology on me!” “And it worked,” he faced her again, and sat down on the couch. “Tell me who you are, and I’ll help you.” Charisma compromised. “Charisma.” someone barked, pulling her away from her memories. “Yes?” she turned towards him and raised her eyebrows. “I asked you a question. Are you going to answer it, or not?” he asked. “What was the question?” she sat down on the stool by her counter. “Who was that on the phone.” It seemed more like a demand than a question. She looked at him, seeing his face still covered by hair. “You never did let me give you that haircut.” She said off topic. “Yeah, yeah, maybe tomorrow. Answer the question,” he put his hands in hyis pockets. “It was a girl I met at some party, no one important,” she shrugged. “Right.” He said, his lip curving down in the corner. “Her last name is Conrad,” she said, hoping to ease his seeming uncomfortable attitude. “Okay,” he said, planting himself on the couch. “So, where to next?” she asked, pushing the book off the counter and throwing it towards the coffee table. “This book didn’t have anything?” he asked, picking it up and flipping it open. “I don’t read Roman.” She said crossly. “You’re a 300 year old Warlock and you can’t read Roman?” he said crossly. “Like I’ve ever had the need to go to Rome!” she hollered. “You’d think you’d want to learn more about your powers,” he rolled his eyes. “What did you say?” she glared at him. “Rome is supposedly where the first Warlock originated from, the book he wrote about his discoveries about his kind is still in his old house.” He flipped through the book, then put it back on the table. “Then I guess we’re going to Rome.” Charisma winked, giving him a mischievous smile. |