Author's Notes:

I'll make general comments about the writing and reading of same here, but respond to individual comments in the comments pages.

Feel free to email me any comments you don't wish to discuss in public, or to nudge me if you fear I've not read your comment, (say, one that was written on chapter 1 when I'm much further along.) Sadly, JournalScape does not notify the journalee when someone leaves a comment.

As for commenting, anything is fair game. "I liked it." / "It sucked." Just tell me why. This is a writing exercise for me. Dialogue, characterization, setting, theme, mood, tone, tense, timbre. Originality of plot, of characters, of surroundings, all of it. Comment what taste it left in your mouth, even if foul.

Especially if foul, else I'll not be able to improve upon that.

(Those of you just joining here, start with Callan and Sian 1)



From the bench of the bus stop across from First Federal Bank, Callan watched as the sun formed a halo around the Columbia Building, the pinnacle of downtown's skyline. The blazing disc silhouetting the spire reminded him of icons of sword and shield, and he smiled grim.

"Those days were past. Those days are now again," he said in a voice so low that only those who knew to Listen could hear, and scarce but only a few paces away given the din of evening traffic.

His own Senses he dulled back. In the open, he dared not stifle them completely, so the stench, the noise, the glare all eroded at his ease. He tried to describe a small circle with his chin to calm himself and was surprised by how ossified his neck felt.

The electronic display at the Galleria Mall blinked the time and temperature. 6:14. Callan stood and crossed the street, the cars at standstill already. Just as he approached the door, Sian rushed out.

"Oh! Cal, I'm so glad you're here! I was worried I was too late."

"Busy day?" A sharp scent intruded on his pleasure seeing her.

"Not until the end. I had one customer that just wanted to ask me out or something."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Kept asking me about what I was doing tonight. Told him I was busy. Asked about tomorrow night, then. Told him maybe just to get him out of there so I could count out my drawer."

Callan inhaled deeply from her scalp.

"I think I'm using lavender shampoo this week, Cal. What's so funny?"

He continued to breathe in her scent, but wasn't smiling. After a few exhalations, he found wherewithal to marshall his countenance again, then kissed her quickly.

Upon breaking the buss, he lightly tugged at her hand. "We'd best be off."

===

The tavern was embraced by the gloom of its side street, but the inside was warm and intimate, though no more lit. Electric candelabra bulbs and the real articles seemed to vie for which would least fight the dark. If so the electrics were winning.

In the back, Callan risked a slight burst of Will and urged a booth free of its occupants. Sian and he sat across the small table from each other, the oil lamp's flicker masking his concern but not her surprise.

"I didn't think you knew downtown so well, Cal. I would have never found this place if you had just given me directions. So, how's the food here?"

"I don't know. Never been here before." He paused to let her raised eyebrow settle. "Something didn't seem right back there, so I wanted to get us out of Dodge."

"What do you mean?"

"The guy who wanted to ask you out. Slavic, broad face, silver temples, wide nose? About six-one, one-eighty or so?"

"You know him?"

"That's not what I'm asking. Is that what he looked like?"

"I'm not very good on descriptions, but that's about right. Why?"

"I'm pretty sure I saw someone like that down the street staring at us, or at you, when I met you in front of the bank. It didn't make sense until you said someone was interested in you."

Sian smiled back. "Did you forget what I told you? I can handle boys like that."

"He's not like a wee lad. As people get older, they don't just get stronger, they get craftier."

"I've yet to meet someone who can out-craft me." She turned, stood and waved. "Waiter! Hey, waiter!"

===

They stopped at the fire hydrant again. Sian pouted playfully. "What, I'm not worth going around the block to look for a spot?"

He met her smile with his own. "You're worth risking a ticket. Better?"

"Bestest! Now, I'll warn you, my place is a mess. I only had time to change clothes this morning." She giggled. "Then again, the bed's still made."

The building was clean and quiet, allowing Callan to free his Senses. As they exited the elevator, his Edge tightened. He squeezed Sian's hand and whispered, "Which one is yours?"

"3B, why?"

"Just a feeling. Can I let myself in?"

Her hand escaped his, then pressed a chain of keys in its place, one extended. He nodded and fisted his fingers around the rest.

"Good girl. Stay here. If you see or hear anything strange, head down the stairs. Down, not up. Natural instinct is to climb, but then you get treed."

She nodded slowly, eyes growing wide.

"Go down a floor or two, then throw the fire alarm, get back into the stairwell and leave with the rest of the crowd. Got it?"

He gave her hand a squeeze and trotted toward her door.