The rest of the meeting had gone by rather smoothly, with no talk whatsoever of the task they had given me prior to my father returning. The discussion had shifted from serious matters to more trivial ones, such as stripping the interior of the state house bare and redecorating according to my taste. I was already enjoying the thought of it, living in a home where every inch wasn't covered in bright, white marble.

I tugged my phone out of the deep pocket of my dress pants and began checking everything from social networking sites, blogs I'd never even heard about until now, and finally a site dedicated to cataloging all mythological creatures. I scrolled through its expansive list and wondered how many of these creatures were indeed real, and how many were only myth.

Never had I entertained the idea of anything other than Shifters, Were's and vampires being the only Supernaturals that could grace the earth, and I supposed it was naïve of me to think so. If it was possible for those things to exist, why wouldn't demons, fae, and hell, even the loch ness monster be real?

Someone at the table cleared their throat, and I peered up at them through the curtain of dark brown hair that had fallen in my eyes. A large, warm hand settled on the back of my neck and I turned slightly to see who it was.

Colin stared down at me with a stern expression on his face. Lines creased the skin on his forehead as he snuck a glimpse over my shoulder at my phone, scoffing under his breath at the content. With him being so close to me, it was easier to pick out his smell from the others, and it was clear he was a Were. I felt somewhat at ease being around one of my kind, even though we weren't exactly the same.

He crouched down beside my chair and whispered into my ear, his lips occasionally brushing against my ear lobe as he spoke. Colin was trying to be discreet, although it was a vain attempt; everyone's hearing was a hundred times better than that of a human, if not more, and no matter how quiet you spoke, you were heard.

"Please, come with me. Delilah and Silas are going to finish up with your father, for now we need to speak about that job of yours," Colin reached down and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of my seat.

My father turned around, eyeing Colin skeptically. "Just where are you taking her?"

"To my office."

"May I ask why? This meeting was to involve both my daughter and I, I don't see how we're going to get anything done if she's missing," my father complained.

The remainder of the heads, save for Delilah and Silas, joined Colin and I at the door.

"That is between us and the Chancellor, Michael. Private matters, you see?" Alistair said from beside me.

"She's not Chancellor yet, you half breed; you're not going anywhere with her without telling me the reason," my father shouted, and rose to his feet, eyes glowing dangerously bright.

Alistair chuckled, amused at my father's outburst. He walked the few steps across the room to reach my father and bowed down so that they were eye level. "Settle down, little man. Your lovely daughter is safe with us. I wouldn't allow anything to happen to her that would cause her pain. Now, the opposite on the other hand…"

My father lunged forward suddenly, fangs descending with a click as they broke through his gums. Alistair caught him by the throat and held him at least a foot off the ground, thrashing violently in an attempt to harm the blonde. He did nothing but stare at my father with those black eyes of his that had returned the second my father attacked. Gone was the beauty that once graced his features, and in its place was sharp, angular features and sunken in cheeks. His nails had extended into claws and punctured the skin on my father's throat, causing droplets of blood to trickle down his tan skin.

If he squeezed any harder, he'd kill him. Or at the very least injure him severely. My father realized this and calmed down, now dangling in Alistair's grasp, limp like a corpse.

He spoke, a low warning, threatening to kill the blonde man if he laid a hand on me. I was his, he said, and I would not be defiled by some Imp.

I frowned. I'm almost eighteen. I think I can choose who and who doesn't defile me.

Alistair tossed my father onto the hard surface of the oak conference table and without a word, turned sharply on his heel, shuddering as his body returned to its normal state, and led me out of the room. The rest of the group followed, and halfway down the hall, he spoke.

"Honestly, and I don't mean to offend, my dear, but I never did like your father."

"Not many people do," I said.

Colin unlocked the door. "I was afraid when I heard Michael and his child were coming…Jesus, I thought you were going to be just like him."

"In that case, I hope I've disappointed you," I said with a slight smile.

He nodded, laughing softly. "You have, and normally that's not something I'm happy about."

Colin sat behind the large desk that took up the rear wall of his office. Everything was organized and had a designated spot, made apparent by the labels placed on every container, tray and file that was visible. No pictures of family were anywhere to be seen, and I wondered if he had any family, or was protecting them by not having pictures around.

A placard sat on the edge of his desk. Mr. Colin Ratzinger. So he's German? That explains the accent.

"Now that we're away from your father, we can speak freely about this," Monroe said, joining Colin behind his desk. "I along with the other Masters have been mulling over this for years now. But we've never found anyone reliable enough to go through with it. They either convert or get themselves killed."

"And you're expecting a seventeen year old not to do either," I arched an eyebrow.

"Basically. You're unassuming, and that provided with that little gift of yours should give an advantage," Warren spoke from behind me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "How are we supposed to go about doing this? I can't just insert myself into their sect. I might as well cut my own head off."

"You say that like you know how dangerous they really are," Warren chuckled. "Here I thought you were sheltered."

"Sheltered maybe, but my father and I were attacked last night by a Purist. I, of course, took the brunt of the attack," I scowled. "I was stabbed in the leg with a stake."

"Ouch," Monroe grimaced, eyes flitting down to my leg. "That must've hurt."

"Yeah, it—"

Colin cut me off. "Why hadn't your father reported the attack?"

"He killed her. I guess he thought that was enough," I shrugged.

He ran a hand over his short blonde hair. "That idiot…he's going to have a full scale war on his hands if the sect finds out one of their own is dead."

"Not necessarily. She was sent in for him to feed on," I told him. "She knew the risks, and I assume they did too. He didn't go out and deliberately kill one of them. The girl was hand delivered."

"She has a point," Monroe said. "Michael will just need to find the one who let her in."

"That's his problem now," Alistair said curtly. "We have more important things to focus on," he turned to me. "You remember when we said that the sect would lie in your jurisdiction, right?"

I nodded.

"As it turns out, it's going to be a lot easier than you may have thought it would be to infiltrate them."

"I can't wait to hear this," I sighed. "What do I have to do?"

"Show up to school of course," he said. "Education is key."

I narrowed my eyes at him warily. "And?"

The wicked grin he gave me could only mean trouble. Trouble with a capital fucking 'T'.

"Date the sect leader's son."