"Come on," Jordan urged Drake, "we need to get into the car before they can see us moving the car doors."

So they hurried past Damien and Emerson and slipped though a side door, rushing to Damien's unlocked car and slid into the backseat, closing the door quickly, just as Damien strolled into sight, Emerson tailing not far behind him.

"How far is Petra's house any ways?" Emerson asked, as he slipped into the car and shut the door.

"You are welcome to not come," Damien snapped, looking over his shoulder, seeing completely through Drake's head as he backed out.

"How long will it be Damien," Emerson growled back.

"I don't know, thirty minutes?" He sighed as he stepped on the pedal, accelerating the car.

"You're driving way too fast," Emerson commented, nodding to a speed limit sign to his right that flew by.

Damien shot him a sideways glance and then rolled his eyes, "And whose going to stop me?"

Emerson frowned and shut his mouth turning to look out the window.

Damien sighed, looking up at the sky through the windshield "It's going to storm soon."

"What?" Emerson turned towards him.

"Hmm," Damien smiled as he turned onto the exit leading out of the city.

It was a bright summer day, not even a cloud in the sky, although the wind was blowing fiercely. Drake wasn't sure why Damien even had the slightest idea of a storm coming in. He smiled to himself remembering when he had driven down this very road not too long ago himself. It wasn't at all different in this time. The same pastures bordered the pavement. A blanket of land with hardly any trees, just flat with the occasional dip and turn.

"Why do you think it's going to storm?" Emerson tilted his head upwards to look at the sky.

Damien only replied with another smile and then continued to say, "I really wish you hadn't come."

Emerson scoffed at that, but didn't respond and the rest of the car ride was silent, but not in an uncomfortable sort of way. Rather, Emerson fell asleep and Damien was left to himself. They soon passed the dip in the road where Drake had had to slam on the breaks for the cows who had wandered onto the road. The ride probably should have taken a good fifty minutes or so, but the way Damien was driving they were soon there, hardly having driven twenty-five minutes.

After parking the car and turning it off, Damien sighed, leaning back, running his hands through his hair before sitting up straight and prodding Emerson in the shoulder to wake him.

Emerson jolted awake, shaking his glasses off his face. "What the fuck," he almost shouted, gasping for air.

Damien smirked at him and then reached down to grab his glasses, holding them up to him as he twirled between two fingers and a raised eyebrow. "Need these?"

Emerson frowned and jerked them away from Damien, playing them on his face and then rushed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Damien laughed before following his act and heading towards the door, where he made three nocks, as Drake and Jordan snuck out of the car carefully.

A middle aged woman with heavy bags beneath her eyes and leathery skin that made her look much older than she probably was came to the door. Her sleepy eyes widened when they rested on Damien and she immediately put her hands to her hair, trying to comb back the mangled mess and then quickly dropped to her stained nightgown trying to smooth it over, but it did little to nothing. Wearing what was probably her best smile, she said, "Damien White, how good to see you my lord. Please come in."

Drake and Jordan followed the two in quietly. Immediately Drake was met with the familiar smell of summer that seemed to always be in Petra's house. He wondered how such a dreadfully unkept woman could keep the house in such a cluttered organization.

"Please sit," Petra's mother motioned to the yellow dining table, "would you like tea?"

She had already put the kettle on the stove and was reaching for two cups.

"Yes," Damien spoke gently, "and if you don't mind . . . could I see Petra."

She gasped, dropping one cup which hit the floor and shattered. "Petra?" She asked almost as if horrified, but surely she knew that was why Damien had come.

Damien nodded, "Is that a problem? She is here, right?"

"She's in her room sir," Mrs. De'Vore spoke bitterly, "doing God knows what."

"I'll just head up there then," Damien said, but really he was asking.

"No," she stopped him from moving a muscle out of that yellow chair and then preceded to shout. "Petra, Damien White and some other young man are here to see you! Get down here now."

"What?" Petra screamed back. "What the hell is that asshole doing here, uninvited? Tell him to fuck off!"

"Petra!" Her mother's face turned a bright crimson red, "Forgive her manners, please."

However, Damien was smiling to himself perfectly contented.

It wasn't a second later that Petra stormed into the room, gasping for air, looking like a mess, her shirt only halfway buttoned up, revealing a fair amount of her bra and her hair a disheveled mess and yet she was so perfect. Jordan and Emerson both looked away with red cheeks. However, Damien stood to smile kindly at her.

"Why are you here?" She barked at him, squinting her eyes as she raised an eyebrow.

He continued to smile as if she were the sole thing on earth that mattered to him, "Darling, I need to speak with you, please. Forgive me for intruding, but I needed to see you."

She shook her head as she realized the seriousness in his tone. "Of course, you're fine," she paused to speak coldly, "hello Emerson."

His embarrassment of seeing her hadn't gone unnoticed and yet he still didn't face her, "Hello."

She sighed, rolling her eyes, "Do you want to speak here? And why do you have him with you?"

"Couldn't shake him off," Damien frowned, "and no. I'd rather not."

She gave him half a smile and then nodded to her mother, solemnly, "I'll be leaving then."

"I don't care," her mother spoke with that rough voice as she took up the empty tea cups to put into the sink.

"Thankyou for your time, Mrs. DeVore," Emerson spoke softly as if he thought Petra might not hear him.

She did and with another role of her eyes, grabbed Damien's hand and began to lead him out of the house with a smile. Drake prodded Jordan softly, so that he turned his head back onto Damien and Emerson and they began to follow them out of the sweet, bright house and into the darkening flowery yard. Both Emerson and Damien looked up at the black sky.

"What's the matter?" Petra stopped walking suddenly.

"Not here," Damien shook his head, eyeing a ladybug crawling the long stem of a daisy as a raindrop plopped on one white petal.

"You're so distracted," she muttered, gently guiding him to his car, whereupon Emerson sat in the back with Drake and Jordan, quite a tight fit to be unnoticed and Petra rode in the front with Damien as if it were assumed that she'd do so. "And where are we going then?"

Once more Damien turned his head to back up and then began to speed along, not even looking at Petra, yet along answering her question.

"Damien," she persisted and when he failed her a second time she turned to face Emerson. "Hey, you," she addressed him through narrowed eyes. Clearly she did not trust him. "Where is he taking us?"

"Far be it from me to know what goes through his mind," he muttered, keeping his placid eyes safely out the window.

"Great, thanks," she nodded angrily although it wasn't his fault just as lightening stuck through the sky and it began to pour.

Damien laughed, "See, Emerson as easy as reading a book."

Emerson's frown deepened as he folded his arms tightly around his chest. He obviously didn't appreciate being outwitted. "Stop being a smart ass," he growled under his breath.

"Why did you bring him?" Petra almost snapped at Damien, who was doing his best to drive as fast as he possibly could even though the pouring rain made it impossible to see a thing. "Damien?" Petra shouted at him when he didn't respond a second time.

Suddenly Damien slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a screeching halt. He jerked off his seatbelt and kicked open the door, rushing outside into the hail and rain and thunder without even bothering to close the door, vanishing into the watery air. Petra frowned and looked back at Emerson who just shook his head in shock.

"What the hell is he doing?" Petra rolled her eyes as she reached over and grabbed the handle of the open door, pulling it shut. Five minutes passed by with only the sound of the drumming rain, until the storm finally started to pass. Petra looked up from where she was fiddling with a loose string on her shirt to look outside for Damien. Drake glanced out as well, shocked to see that they were in the exact place where he had stopped for the crossing cows. Damien was outside ankle deep in mud walking about like a mad man. With a loud groan, Petra opened her door and jumped out into the mud and drizzle, while Emerson merely rolled down his window to listen in on their conversation.

"Damien, what are you doing?" She barked at him. "You're absolutely soaking wet and caked in mud. If I'd just never-"

"Did you see her?" He asked Petra frantically.

She frowned. "See who?"

"Lyra," he spoke earnestly. "I swear I saw her sitting at the side of the road, so I stopped and when I got out I saw her still sitting there, wearing a bright blue dress, but when I blinked and she was gone. Petra I-"

"Calm down, you're shaking," Petra sighed, reaching out for him.

"I know what I saw," he snapped, pulling away from her.

Drake pursed his lips. He hadn't realized that Jade had run into Damien when she had time traveled there. Maybe she hadn't seen him though.

"Then where is she Damien?" Petra shouted at him. She was probably fed up with him at that point.

He opened his mouth, but soon shut it without speaking and looked away from her.

"That's what I thought," she muttered, "when was the last time you slept?"

He shook his head as if he thought that that were completely irrelevant. However, the dark circles beneath his eyes said otherwise, "I-I don't know," he sighed at last, "when I'm not fighting with my father and Alastair during the day, I'm obeying the king at night."

Suddenly he dropped to his knees sinking a little in the mud. Petra shuffled her way to him. "You're just hallucinating, Damien."

He looked up at her with a spark of energy, "No I swear I saw-"

"Damien cut it out," Emerson growled from the car, "it's lunch time and I'm hungry get back in the car and drive us back into town."

"But what if-" His face went milky pale. "What if it was a ghost?"

Emerson frowned, but not from concern. He reached into his pocket and took out a notebook.

"Stop it," Petra snapped at Emerson, her voice cracking from the pressure, "don't you dare write a single word down!"

However, her words had no sway over him and he pulled out a pen from behind his ear, beneath his shaggy black hair and snapped the cap off.

"Stop," came Damien's shaky voice, his eyes resting on Emerson heavily.

Immediately Emerson's hand fell limp and the pen dropped to the floor board He looked out the car and glared at Damien, who gave a weak smile of cockiness in return.

"Even you are no match for me, writer," Damien spoke through that little grin.

"Damien," Petra grabbed his arm and tried to pull him towards the car.

"Stop it," he snapped at her, pulling his arm back to his side as soon as she had released it.

She gave him a funny look, which soon melted into realization. "Let me see how bad it is."

"What? What the hell are you even talking about? Have you gone mad?" But when she gave him a look he simply said, "No," hiding his arm even further from her reach as he stood. "Let's go."

"Damien," she hissed and he gave it to her palm facing up to show. Little spots of blood were slowing making their red marks onto Emerson's makeshift bandage which was already dried brown. Carefully Petra untied the strip of material and then rolled back the sleeve to find a deep cut-like wound surrounded by raw and scarred skin. It was painful just to look at yet alone imagine the real, physical pain it caused. It looked infected and needed ointment.

"Mmm," she pursed her lips and then let her eyes meet Damien's cold ones, which were eyeing her rather disdainfully. "Damien, you're seventeen now, almost an adult. Don't let him do this to you anymore."

He smiled at her as if she'd told a joke and then pushed his sleeve back into place with a painful grimace as the material rubbed against the raw skin, "Whatever you say, love. I'm ready to leave, come on let's ruin my car with all of this mud."