She dragged herself to the sink, blood seeping through the white towel she had wrapped around her left arm. Stabbing pain coursed through her nerves. The young girl bit her lip in anguish, in turn causing that to bleed as well. The whole kitchen smelled of her sweet metallic blood and, of course, the mold that covered almost ever nook and cranny in the room. She hastily turned the knob, producing water with a nasty rust brown look to it to spit rapidly out of the faucet. While watching the water she washed the dried blood from her skin; her blood mixed with the dirty brown water turning it burgundy in color. The girl looked around the dusty kitchen; the whole broken down house had the same sort of rusty look to it. Run down and a total death trap, but she felt safe in the there. The best thing was it was free, and away from the cold and dangerous nighttime streets, not that she couldn't defend herself, she was just tired of it. Most of the windows had been boarded up and there was no lock on the door from when the police or who ever kicked it in but it was warm and reclusive. No harm would come to here there, she hoped.

When she finished washing the blood from her arm and the wound was already gone, she knew it would because that's something she could do. She turned off the water and sat at the shabby old kitchen table. She could hear the man walking around upstairs; he was probably getting her a room ready. She put her head down on the table and closed her eyes. She would have never guessed that it would have been him, a Queller, out of everyone in the world. That he would be the one saving her and giving her a place to stay. Ironic really, one day he was chasing her and the next he was on her side.

"Are you okay?" she heard him ask from behind her. She opened her eyes and turned around in her seat.

He was standing very close to her and she could feel his warm breath on her skin, he placed both of his hands on the table, boxing her in. She kept her eyes down, examining the floor. She didn't feel comfortable being this close to him and not fighting, not struggling to hold on for a second more, she could heal very quickly but that didn't stop the pain he had caused her. She could try to phase through him, or the table, but she knew that it wouldn't work. He was a Queller after all, and no ability worked around them. He was like her kryptonite. She wasn't sure way he was there in the first place, maybe his helping her was all a panic induced nightmare and he was actually there to hurt her, or worse.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you have to trust me." He looked down at her but she didn't dare meet his eyes. She could feel his gaze on the top of her head; him studying the unyielding wave in her hair. There was just something about him that made her stomach turn and she couldn't place the feeling. Was it his scheming grey eyes, or his faultless shaggy blonde hair that fell perfectly into his face?

No.

Those were the things about him that made her think that if things were different; if she was different, there could be something between them. She felt guilty that she was attracted to him, to the man that caused her so much pain for a whole decade. He was almost ten years older than she was, and it had been him, this golden crusader, that followed her and her kind around. He tracked them and killed them, and she couldn't fathom why he had changed. Why now?

She looked at him and tried backing away from him through the table, another thing she could do, phasing through objects, another ability she obtained from someone she met during her travels. Her kind was special but she was the ultimate, an impath. Nevertheless, she stayed where she was, abilities don't work around him, and his kind.

"How can I trust you?...everything you did…Nolani…Sebastian…my parents." Her words came out in whispers…half sobs. "You are a monster. Innocent people have died at your hands and you're expecting me to just trust you. So what, you saved me from that group of Trackers…I've dealt with those situation tons of times."

"They had a Queller with them, they had you cornered that time. I know because I helped devise the plan."

"Oooooh," The girl was furious now, with a hint of sarcastic rage to her voice. "So how do I know this isn't just another trap? I wake up in some god forsaken house and you tell me that you're a good guy now, and that you're here to help me…to save the freaking world…but how in the can I believe you? You! Are! A! Liar! Hmmm? Seriously, what is stopping me from leaving right now! " She yelled at him, trying to push him from her but he didn't move. "I hate you…I HATE YOU! Get away from me! Murderer!" He stood still and locked his calm eyes on her. He let her pound her fists on his chest until all she could do was lay her head against him and bawl.

After a while, what seemed like hours to him, he said very quietly, "I can help you, I can't tell you why right now. You can leave whenever. I just want you to know that without you I can't take them down. I need you just as much as you need me. I know things, certain things that you want to know."

He let her go and she brushed past him and walked to the stairs. She didn't care what he had to say she only wanted to go to sleep…and maybe never wake up.

"Your room is ready by the way. Second floor, third from the right, across from the bathroom. I put new sheets on the bed. I'm sorry about the state of the house but its not like anyone's gonna find you here." He said trying to put a smile on her face, he didn't want her to jump and run away. He knew she was good at disappearing; she could become invisible when she wanted.

The girl walked toward the stairs backward, never taking her eyes off him.

"I'm not going to hurt you Marla, I swear." He said her name and she froze. She hadn't heard her name in years, and especially with that much…what was it… passion maybe. There was something there, something behind his cold grey eyes. But right now she didn't want to know what it was. She didn't care. She turned and ran up the stairs and into her room. She shut the door behind her and pushed the tears from her face. She flopped down on the musty old mattress and pulled the sheet over her head. She never wanted to wake up.

Marla couldn't sleep, she lay in her lumpy bed for hours with her eyes closed. This was normal for her; she could never really sleep, not even when she lived with her family, the time when Trackers or Quellers weren't hunting her. Marla pulled the blankets over her head and started counting. For some reason it always calmed her down. She held her hand out in front of her and flexed her fingers. Sparks jumped from fingertip to finger tip in a wave.

She had many abilities she picked up from the people she met on her travels. She was an impath, same as her mother and her sister, Nolani. The gene traveled trough the women in her family and she had never met a male impath. Her mother said it was because females had a keener sense of power and knew how to use it without causing trouble. Marla really didn't care about history…her history in particular. She was always concerned with the present. Now she knew she should have taken more time to listen to the stories and legends her mother and grandmother told her. Maybe things would have gone better.

Marla stretched out her legs, easing the cramps from them. She sat up and pulled the thin blanket around her body. The room was freezing; there was little heat because the power had been shut off. The basement had flooded and the furnace was in about a foot of water. Shivering, she relaxed her fingers again and created a small flame in the palm of her left hand. Marla held it close to her body and soon she was warmer.

There was a knock at the door, which made Marla jump and the flame extinguish. The man opened the door wide enough to poke his head in. "You're still awake." He said, "It's almost morning…um…I'm sorry I didn't bring this in earlier, I really didn't think about it." He smiled awkwardly; his blond hair covered his grey eyes and it made Marla's heart beat only a little faster. Was it out of admiration or fear?

Marla watched him enter her room with a large box looking item, but what he was wearing caught more of her attention. The guy was shirtless; his whitish skin was tight across his chest, which showed how well toned he was, and he had a long white rugged scar that ran down from his collarbone across his chest to his hip.

Marla couldn't help but look at him. She barely knew him, except from their snide conversation they had when he was hunting her. He seemed so different now…more human, she couldn't understand how someone she had hated for so long could be completely different from what she first thought. She nodded thanks for the space heater that he brought to her. It ran on batteries so the lack of power wouldn't be a problem.

He hesitated at the door and turned around slowly. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Marla thought it was because he didn't know how to act in a situation like this. It was bizarre for the both of them. Then he spoke, "Marla, if you want some company I don't have to leave. I know it's weird…strange being like this but it's going to be alright."

She nodded, she didn't want to be alone in this dark room. Maybe that's why she couldn't sleep, she didn't feel safe by herself. The guy sat down on the edge of her bed and smiled awkwardly at her. He wrapped his own blanket around himself and leaned against the worn wall. "Name's Griffin by the way. I didn't know if you knew that." Marla didn't and somehow now knowing his name made things a little easier. He was no longer "that guy" or "the Queller", the more he told her about himself, the more she knew this was the real him.

She turned over on her side and closed her eyes. Taking one last deep breath, she fell asleep. Marla knew that with Griffin watching over her she would be safe. Well safe until he was done with her.