A/N: This is the first chapter, re-worked. Yay! So, here ya go. A warning, there’s some swearing in this and it’s only going to get worse. : ) The second chapter should be done soon. Hopefully…maybe…possibly… Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

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Dia ran her fingers over the creases in the hand written note on her lap. She once again checked the name. Green Hills was where she was supposed to get off of the bus. Looking out of the dust-covered bus window, she couldn’t find anything green. Or any hills for that matter. Cracked dirt and brown weeds stretched endlessly on both sides of the road as the heat made the air shimmer above the pavement as they drove along. Her grandmother had said she lived in the middle of nowhere. Dia hadn’t thought she had meant it so literally.

She let her head fall back against the seat as she wiped a few stubborn strands of hair off of her face where they had stuck to her sweat. She felt like she was being slowly roasted alive. Dia knew it would be that much worse when she got off of the bus. Her eyes gradually closed as the soothing rhythm of wheels over asphalt made her drowsy.

The hungry desert floor crumbled under her shoes as she walked. There was nothing but the ground below her and the yawning sky above. Thin, white, jagged threads of lightning shot through the heavy grey clouds. Everything was muted, the colors as well as the noise. She could hear nothing Not her footsteps, not thunder. A light wind tugged at her hair and clothes, but never seemed to touch the ground. It was continuous.

“Where am I?” Her voice came out tiny, distant, and oddly slow.

“You are home.” She turned in a frantic circle searching for the speaker. There was no one. But as she completed the circle the storm grew worse. The wind turned fierce nearly blowing her over and blinding her. Blinking her watering eyes furiously, she could make out a shadow growing in the distance. It was like the sky and ground had converged and was racing towards her.

She turn and started to run. She only got a few feet before something unseen betrayed her footing and she went sprawling. A sharp pain shot through her knee. She ignored it and got up. “And this is where you will stay!” The voice yelled.

Dia woke with a start as the loud voice sounded in her ears. It had felt like the vibrations of the noise could disassemble her like a doll.

Shaking off the weird dream, Dia realized the bus was slowing. The bus turned into the parking lot of a road side diner. “Peg’s Diner” was spelled out of neon lights that looked like only half of the letters would show up when they were turned on.

“Yeah, this is where Grandma said she’d pick me up.” She mumbled to herself as she checked the name against the much abused letter. It wasn’t like her grandmother had any choice in the matter though as the diner seemed to be the only sign of civilization in miles. Dia was starting to get worried. Just what in the world was she going to do for the entire summer stuck in what was a dead ringer for the face of the moon? Maybe she had been a bit too hasty in agreeing to the whole thing.

Dia refused to give into her worries. After all, she hadn’t seen her grandmother, Freya, since she was three. Her mother and grandmother had a falling out around then. Over what, Dia had no idea. Her mother would glare at something only she could see and walk out of the room when ever she asked.

But she had a good idea why she was allowed to go visit Grandma Freya now. Her mother was getting desperate for a solution to Dia’s sudden “attitude problem”. Over the past four months, she had been expelled, suspended from both schools a total of five times, and arrested twice. All for either started or finishing fights. Dia was this close from being dumped in juvie so her mother was willing to give anything a try. Even making sort of amends with her own mother. Which worked just fine for Dia since she was willing to spend an entire three months away from her nagging mother.

Dia slung her backpack onto one shoulder as the bus came to a stop. When she stepped outside the heat took her breath away for a moment. It was like walking into a sheet of cellophane. The cloud of exhaust that wrapped around her as they bus took off didn't help matters much. But as she made her way through the lot it didn’t feel so much like breathing in plastic. She stopped in front of the huge window that showed a few truckers sitting at the counter. No sign of her grandmother. Dia turned to look for the rusted out pick up truck her mother had warned her about. Nothing but simi-trucks.

Sighing, she leaned against the window. She wondered just how long she was going to be forced to wait here. Dia stood in the slightly less sweltering shadow of the diner for half an hour before she gave up and entered the place. She picked a booth and slid onto the red vinyl seats.

“What’ll it be?” Came a weary voice. Dia looked up to see the slightly older-than-middle-age waitress staring down at her.

“Um…” Dia stalled. She wondered if they would let her loiter here if she didn’t order anything. Looking the clearly cranky woman over, she doubted it. “Just something to drink…?” She looked over the menu as the waitress seemed ready to pop a gasket. “A Sprite.”

The woman left without another word. Dia continued with her grandmother-watch. Her mother had told her Freya wasn’t the most punctual of people as well as her memory was as good as a steel trap that had been left out in the rain. And yet you sent me out here, Mom. Dia thought, seriously starting to doubt both of their parenting skills.

“Yeah, this is gonna sound weird, but a lot of things I say are.” Dia started as someone flopped down in the seat next to her. The woman looked only a few years older. She had her blonde hair swept off her neck in a messy bun and a pair of violet-tinted glasses perched on the tip of her nose so she could look at Dia over them.

“What?” Dia asked, utterly bemused.

The woman only smiled and turned sideways so she could put her bejeweled sandals on the seat. “Just listen, okay? I doubt I’ll have another chance at ya. The wolves are damned protective of their own. I’ll give them that.” She made a face as if the grudgingly given compliment hurt something eternally coming out as she dug through her fringed purse.

“I don’t know who you are lady. And I sure as hell don’t know what you’re talking about. So just…go away.” Dia made shooing motions with her hands. She was in no mood to deal with hippie throwbacks who had evidently been smoking today. And she didn’t mean the cigarettes the woman pulled out of her purse.

“Sorry, can’t. It’s important that we have a little chat. You’re in danger.” She rolled her eyes as she shook out a cigarette and lit it. “I know, I know, such a cliché. But it’s the truth.”

“Ha. Ha. Right.” Dia said sarcastically. Freya hadn’t warned her about wandering crazies.

The woman’s expression grew serious. She leaned her bangle-adorned arms on the table and leaned forward. “They don’t realize how selfish there are. It’s horrible what happened to them. But that doesn’t mean they have any right to do it. Just remember that when the time comes. After all, you have a choice where they don’t.” Her eyes glanced past Dia where the girl had unconsciously leaned forward and then narrowed in anger. Dia turned to see a man walking towards their table.

“Rat bastard.” She heard the woman mumble angrily under her breath.

“What are you doing here, Danté?” He asked her. He was tall and intimating dresses all in black despite the heat. He looked to be of Spanish decent with slicked back black hair and dark eyes that were more black than brown and were currently returning the woman's glare tit for tat. There was something about him. Dia looked back and forth between the two. She could almost feel the tension. The anger. Yeah, there was some kind of history there.

The woman identified as Danté forced a smile on her face and took a drag of her cigarette. She let it out as she spoke. “Me? Oh, nothing. Saying hi to you’re newest recruit isn’t against the rules now? Is it, Azreal?” Dia stared at the smoke as it swirled in the air. Something was off about it. It moved wrong. Was that a hand forming in the smoke? Dia shook her head, worried that the heat had fried her brain.

“She’s Freya’s granddaughter.” The man, apparently Azreal, said wafting away the smoke with an annoyed look.

“What?” Dia demanded. “You know my grandmother? Where is she?”

They both ignored her. “I swear, you wolves don’t know how to look anymore.” Danté laughed. “She’s much more than one of your sheep.”

“What!?” Dia said again. “What are you talking about? Sheep, wolves, what? Someone make some kind of sense.” The urge to hit someone or something grew as a headache started over one eye. Dia’s short temper was notorious. As was her tendency towards violence. She was never one to talk something out. No, she was more from the piss-me-off-and-the-fists-will-start-swinging school. Especially lately.

Dante’s smile widened. “See?”

Azreal turned towards Dia. “Freya sent me to come get you. So, come on.”

Dia was not a fan of his commanding attitude. Danté laughed as if she could feel the defiance bubbling up in the girl’s veins. Dia ground her teeth and twisted forward so she was looking more at Danté, and folded her hands in front of her on the table. Her mother would have demanded what the pod people had done with her daughter. She decided to take a different rout since her anger was making her head throb painfully.

“Where is my grandmother?” She asked in a strained calm tone.

He made an irritated noise. “I don’t have all day. Let’s go, little girl.”

“That’s not what I asked.” She enunciated each word angrily.

“God, you’re so like your mother.”

Dia looked back at him at that. Did she detect a hint of a smile? She couldn’t be sure as his expression quickly turned back to its earlier blankness. “You knew my mom?”

“Yeah, get your ass moving and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Bribing people with information. Now who’s the lowlife?” Danté chimed in.

“Still you.” He shot back quickly making Dia laugh. She stood and slung her backpack on once again. Azreal cocked an eyebrow at that, seemingly surprised at her agreement. “Good, now say bye to the crazy.”

“Bye, Crazy.” Dia turned and waved to Danté as Azreal lead the way out of the diner.

“Ungrateful, every single one of you!” She called after them.

The waitress appeared once again looking, if it was possible, even more annoyed as she set a glass down. “Where did that girl go?” Danté puffed on her cigarette as she pondered the waitress' question.

“To her doom. But then so are we all.”

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“So, how'd you know my mom? She never really talks about living here. The only thing she says about it is that it would be a cold day in hell before she comes back. What happened between her and Freya?” Dia asked as they walked through the parking lot. She was feeling a bit better since her headache had disappeared as suddenly as it had come.

Azreal shrugged as Dia trailed slightly behind him. Jeez, he walks fast. She complained mentally. Though she wasn't going to move any faster than she normally did. It was the principal of the matter. “There's much to tell, really. I met Vera when I moved here when I was sixteen. If you want to know the details of the Vera-Freya feud, you'd be better off asking them. All I know is that there was a lot of yelling then Vera left. Don't you walk any faster?”

She rolled her eyes at the obvious attempt at a subject change. She knew she would have to find another fount of information to get to the bottom of, as Azreal put it, the Vera-Freya feud. “Nope. I only have two speeds. This and running-for-my-life. There's no other reason to run, after all.”

Azreal muttered something that sounded a whole lot like “Hope you don't have to use that second speed.”

“What?” Dia demanded coming to a stop.

“Nothing, now get on.”

Dia stared at the big black motorcycle he gestured to with apprehension. “Riiight.” She said, drawing out the word to express her sarcasm fully. “Nice try. Where’s door number two?” Azreal looked like he was ready to strangle her, but was saved from giving in to such an impulse by the rumbling engine of another bike. More than one, actually.

“Oh, great, the idiot squad.” Dia heard him grumble as three motorcycles pulled to a stop in the diner’s parking lot.

“Heya, Azreal!” One of the rider’s called as he pulled off his helmet. His short blonde hair stuck up at odd angles and his bright blue eyes were dancing with amusement. “Dom said we could leave the bar since he knows how much you’d miss us.”

“Remind me to kill him later, would you?” Azreal said dryly.

“Will do.” The blonde boy assured him with a salute.

“Who’s the girl?” The next rider has removed his helmet while the first boy had been talking, but unlike him not a perfectly groom strand of black hair was out of place. The look in his brown eyes said he found her all around lacking.

Dia’s anger, so close to the surface these days, fired up once again. “Who’s the douche bag?” She asked in the same exact tone he had, causing the first boy to laugh.

“Oh, I like her. You must be Freya’s granddaughter. You don’t carry around a shotgun, though, do you?” Dia only gave him a confused stare. Shotgun? “Anyway, I’m Jesse. That’s November.” He said pointing to the still helmeted rider. “And the douche bag’s Rafael.” He finished the introductions with a smirk.

“Shut up, ass hat.” Rafael growled.

“Come make me.” Jesse challenged.

Dia would usually roll her eyes at the behavior of dumb boys, but she had an urge to go over there and knock their heads together until she could hear their brain’s rattling around. Her headache came back with a vengeance. She actually took a step towards them. Azreal stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Dia blinked, it felt like a wonderfully cool liquid was flowing through her veins, soothing away the awful pounding in her head, and a calmness flowed with it that made her give up her strong desire to beat both of them into a pulp.

She blinked again as she suddenly realized Azreal was giving Jesse and Rafael the same treatment when he had been standing right beside her the second before. Now he wasn’t. It was like a movie with a few frames missing. Was she loosing time? Was that some symptom of heat stroke? It would be just her luck if it were.

“Now let’s go.” Azreal ordered, his tone booking no argument. Striding back to his bike, he swung a long leg over it. “Get on.” He said to her. Tired and hot, Dia stowed her complaints and got on.

“Just don’t kill me or anything, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.” Azreal said less than assuring. He passed a black helmet to her. She managed to get it one with only a bit of struggling.

Dia flipped up the visor so she could speak. “Hey, don’t you need one?” She asked noticing he wasn’t wearing one. “I’m pretty sure the road’s harder than your head.”

“Well, if it comes to that I’m immortal, so no worries there.” Dia only rolled her eyes as they set off.

“Where are we going?” She yelled over the loud rush of the wind as they flew down the road.

“Ragnarok. Freya’s bar.” He yelled back.

“My grandmother has a bar!?” She heard him laugh.

“Let me guess, Vera forgot to mention that fact?”

“Yeah, it must have slipped her mind.” Dia grumbled, not caring if he could hear her or not. Her mother had never said anything about a bar, guys on motorcycles, or crazy ladies in diners.

Dia had always had an image of her grandmother in her head since she couldn’t actually remember anything about the last time she had seen her. She had thought Freya would be one of those rocking chair grandmothers who knitted and always had candy. Okay, it was more of a grandmother you would find on TV, but Dia had wanted one of them.

What we want isn't always what's best for us, Shadiya. No matter how much we protest otherwise. Her mother said that a lot.

Dia jumped as a loud rumble of thunder drowned out the bike motor’s and the wind. Azreal pulled the bike to a stop. “What?” Dia demanded. She looked up at the sky. There were a few clouds, that was all. Weird.

Jesse, Rafael, and November came to a halt too. “You think it’s them?” Jesse asked, a thread of worry in his voice.

“I don’t think, I know.” Azreal answered. Dia frowned and stared back and forth between them. If she had a nickel for everything that happened that day that she didn’t understand, she’d be a frickin’ millionaire.

“Scared?” Rafael asked Jesse with a vindictive smirk.

“Okay, what-“ Dia began, but she was cut off by the sky opening up with a roar and all hell breaking loose.