Page 9 of When Embers Become Ashes

From April 27th to July 6th, I felt like the latest fad, but Jameson freaked out when my name was used in the local paper; he was pleased that the photo they used, I had turned away to look at something so they didn’t get my face, even if they called me Emily, not Ember, Jameson still panicked. I was then plonked two hours away with the Quad River Pack, an odd little pack mainly consisting of small animal shifters, beavers, badgers, squirrels, a few foxes, and sadly, no kitsunes. I stayed until October when I was moved to the Jacobey Family.

I wasn’t even there for a month. They were Night Terrors that feed on bad dreams. They are similar to Nightmares but never get higher than level 5. They don’t really have a human form, but at the same time, they look more human than Terror.

Most pass for people with body modifications, bumps on their foreheads that are the start of horns, but they haven’t pierced the skin yet. Their problem with me was that, somehow, even though I had bad dreams, they couldn’t feed on them. They couldn’t even get into my dreams to make them worse and tastier.

I always wondered if Dex and Levi were the cause, but when I asked, they gave me blank stares. I was moved again to LakeView Pack. I was there between November and February. Doreen, whom I was placed with, gave me a Shakespeare book and some Sketchbooks with a set of charcoals, she also made a Victoria sponge cake for my birthday, we sat eating cake watching reruns of Blackadder – her mate was from Devon in England, so she liked to indulge in some English fancies on special occasions. Her Son moved her to a home for the elderly in February, so I was moved again.

10 years old

Jameson drops me off at another lovely facility named THE TANK, and yes, it’s as grim as it sounds.

The building used to be a school, which had two swimming pools. The whole place is warded, so you can only get in if you have been before or were escorted by someone who has been. The pools are rigged up with metal cages in rows that are lowered up and down. Only four inches of the cage sticks out of the water when they are down. I fall unconscious and am dragged out by someone the first time I go into the pool. I will see them again in a few years and learn who he was and get to say thank you, but today he drags me out, and when he is happy I’m breathing and no longer choking on water he starts to yell at the people who run the facility, the pools are also rigged with an electrical current to give the residents an extra shock if needed. I see and hear the guy with the faint southern accent James talks to on the phone sometimes, but I don’t get a name.

In October, a boy called Bramley Stokes gets assigned to the cell opposite mine. Cell was the only description; they were a lot like prisons on TV. We had schooling, but bookwork was done in our 'rooms.' We get three half-decent meals a day. Bram likes to sing to pass the time, and he has an amazing voice, so that’s what we did. I always chose Tim McGraw – Humble and Kind because it reminds me of Pops and Nonna.

In November, work started on some of the other buildings, and we overhear some of the orderlies talking about the Supernatural Relations Unit, or SRU, which had taken down another branch of the lab and they were adding it to the Tanks Facility to better protect it.

December 1st arrived, and Jameson takes me, Bram, and two others to a group home with an ominous ‘you’ll be back.’

We are at the group home for 17 days, and they are relatively relaxed. This place has schooling on the premises, and I’m managing to keep up with where I should be at my age.

Then we are moved to THE CAGE, and I think part of me died as when I walk into the common room and see a skin-headed, thin, glazed-eye version of Jenson Fall, my Trickster. Margo had started calling us the Joker and Harley Quinn for all the Mischief we kept pulling on Ren. I became his Quinny and him my Trickster.

As I approached, a boy tries to stop me, but Bram blocks him before he can touch me.

“I wouldn’t; the freak’ll spaz out when girls touch or even talk to him, I wouldn’t bother even if you do think he’s pretty.” I glare at the guy and shrug, I get three spaces from Trick, sink to my bum and sit cross-legged in front of him, then start to singAmefuri OtsukiRainfall Moon,which Mama Lou used to hum while she sat sewing. Jenson slowly snaps out of his trance, then pounces, holding me so tight I can feel every rib press against me, just as his brother had done that last time, his nose presses into my hair, mumbling I was safe after he gets his fill, I tell him what happened to Gerald and find out he has been in the Cage since Gerald sent him away.

Jenson

I have been in this Hell for six years—no, that’s the wrong name. It must be Heaven, where only salad was a food option, no cake, milkshakes, or pancakes. ‘Mmmmmmm, I’m hungry.’ The fog was thick today, making it easier to zone out and not listen to or feel what was happening to me or around me.

She was due back soon. I’ll be force-fed those pills that make my ding-a-ling hard, and she would run her red-painted nails down my chest or through my hair while grinding her foof on me. They never take my boxers off, thankfully, but I will be strapped to a metal chair. She is always naked, thinking I was enjoying her rock-solid fake boobs in my face. I’m glad they shaved my hair last week when there was an outbreak of lice. At least she can’t use it to pull my head to try to kiss me with her granny-wrinkled lips. YUCK!

“The freak’ll spaz out.” Huh, I thought Brian had been moved to another place. What have I done this time? Maybe this time he starts shit, I’ll break one of his shin bones... maybe a wrist...

WAIT!

Something else starts breaking through the fog, someone is singing in Japanese

“rainfall moon hidden behind clouds when I am a bride, who shall I go with?”

Wait, that’sAmerfuri OtsukiRainfall Moon.Motherused to sing that when she was sewing, but the voice is wrong! Slowly, I come out of the fog, but I must be dreaming. Quinny wouldn't be here. Ren would have her somewhere safe, but as she smiles, I don’t care.

I pounce, holding her as tight as I can, and wedge my nose behind her ear, surrounded by her hair and scent. I just breath her in 'Smores'; that’s what she smells of to me. Ren was adamant she smelt of Cherry Blossoms and snow, but to me, it was always gooey, hot smores.

Just as I was getting over the shock that Quinny was here and in my arms, she breathes out,

“Trick, I’ve missed you,” with a sigh, then one of the dick orderlies, Calvin, speaks,

“Well, it looks like our broken fox has some kryptonite after all. Take them to the lab. I’ll get Doctor Smyth.” I couldn’t even croak a sorry to Quinny before we were both strapped to metal.

Ember

Definitely not the type of lab I expected.

Trick looks like he is going to throw up as he sees them strap me into a similar chair opposite him. Doctor Smyth, or that’s who I presume it is with the white coat that enters the room. I recognize the file he’s going through as mine and internally panic when he raises his eyebrows and a cruel smirk works its way across his face,

“Human drugs react like they do in supes and burn through your system too quickly to influence.” Trick starts to have a panicked look as he watches the Doctor not blinking,

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