The Rogue

The Rogue

Chapter 1: Musings

The first time the dream had come to her she thought that it was just some random scene that her subconscious had cooked up.

After all it was something she had desperately wanted.

"I mean," she said to herself quietly, "who wouldn't dream of a brother or a sister, when in reality you're alone?"

The dream had always been the same. The boy who looked like her was always there. The dream seemed to revolve around him. His face always the center. His image haunted her.

When it first came, she had spent days thinking about him. It was like his face had been burned into her mind. The unruly black hair, the crooked shy smile, the round wire glasses and his eyes. Bright green, not quite emerald, as they seemed to glow with light. His eyes were as bright as stars in the night sky.

He was so like her in appearance. Yet much happier. He had always been smiling or laughing at one person or another that she couldn't see. In her dreams everything around him was dulled. But not him. Sometimes he had almost slipped into the greys around himself. She had been worried for him. But he always reappeared, glowing from within, bright eyes dancing.

But it was not only the context of her dreams that confused her. It had been oddly annual. She experienced it throughout the year but as Christmas and holidays came she had it more often. Thinking about it she realised with a start that she always had it at the end of July. In fact she had it almost every night then.

"What does he have to do with me?" she wondered aloud.

"WHY DO I ALWAYS DREAM ABOUT HIM!" she yelled in frustration.

Suddenly a noise permeated her confused musings. It was her alarm clock.

Great, she sighed. And I haven't slept since three.

She sighed again and reached over to silence the offending noise. While she was at it she turned off her four other alarms. She slept heavily when she went to bed late, as she usually did. In fact her Mum used to say she slept the sleep of the dead.

Her Mum had been like that. Never making faults sound like faults, never making them negative. Never accusing. She'd been accepting, kind and open-minded. She hadn't belonged to a religion and had never shown any interest in them. She had been fascinated by nature and had adored the written word.

She'd also loved the Lore. In fact Herbal Lore had been one of her more financially viable talents.

She may not have been a whiz at computers and she hadn't been able to drive but she could brew an elixir to remove a cold and, produce smells to blow away depression. People had paid enormous amounts for her remedies and had always come back when something had befallen them.

Thinking back she pictured her Mum. She hadn't been skinny or big, just regular. She'd had long honey blonde hair and a dazzling smile but her best feature had been her eyes. She'd had amazing blue eyes that changed colour. One minute they were blue-grey, the next blue-green or even grey. Just solid grey. Her eyes were grey when the rains came. They darkened like the sky above them.

Everyone her mother had ever met had commented about her eyes, saying they were beautiful. Her Mum had just smiled and thanked them. Only when she was alone with her daughter did she say what she truly felt.

"I don't know what human beauty is. I don't think there is such a thing. Not that one can see anyway," she had told her child while putting her to bed one night.

"But you are beautiful," she'd said tapping the child lightly on the nose.

"How do you know?" she had asked, looking up at her mother.

"Because I can sense it. I can feel it in you. A pure soul and a joyful heart. And the biggest brain I have ever seen! No wonder your head is so huge!" she'd teased. "Now which book do you want tonight?"

The child sat for a moment deep in thought.

"I want to read about... Glynna and Ember.... or about Gaia!" the girl finally announced.

"Well..." the woman said drawing the sound out, "it's a bit late to start reading about the twins. So let's read about Gaia. Go get the book."

She smiled as the girl scrambled to get out from under the covers and off the bed. She ran to her bookcase quickly grabbing the book. She had known exactly were it was, she knew where all her books were. She skipped back to the bed and clambered back up onto it, working around the bundle in her hands. She never once let go of the volume. Her mother smiled. It was exactly what she herself would have done.

" Okay Mum, get comfortable," the girl told her as she opened the book and found her page. She started from the second chapter; they'd read the first previously.

The woman snuggled in next to the child and closed her eyes as her daughter began to read. Taking a deep breath she concentrated as her daughter's rich husky voice wove the world of the orphaned street-wise teenager around them.

"Hello Ceendy."

"Hi Zolov, what's shaking?"

"Shakeeeng?"

Again she woke herself from her thoughts. It always happened when she thought about her mother. It was like her memory was addictive. You sat down to think about her for a second and an hour later that you were late for work. Again.

Getting up she went to the bathroom. What had she been thinking about? Oh yeah, the dream. She looked into the mirror above the sink and flinched. She had gone to bed the night before with mousse in her hair and make-up on her face.

Why was it that on the rare occasions that she used make-up and hair goop, she always slept in the stuff? She looked like a God damned panda!

Running some cold water into the sink, she tried to rub the gunk off her skin. After ten minutes of swearing in several different languages she gave up on the cold water and grabbing a towel headed to the shower.

Sighing as the hot water pelted her skin, she reached up and grimaced as she felt the slimey mess that was her hair. Stretching to get her shampoo, she realised that it was one of the things she had on her grocery list. Wherever the hell that was.

She was about to sigh, but realising that it would be her twentieth sigh in the past hour, she held herself in check. All she had was a small travel shampoo. A freebie.

"Well, it'll have to do," she sigh.... no, she breathed. No more sighing today, she told herself. You've exceeded your daily quota.

Getting back to the issue at hand she looked suspiciously at the bottle in her hand. Hotel shampoo's had a reputation for being as weak as diluted dishwater. Her usual shampoo was like paint stripper for hair. It was the only reason she didn't look like a greased mobster. But image issues aside she had to get the slime out of her hair.

Concentrating on the bottle she poured some of the liquid onto her palm. Her eyes widened as she beheld the green puddle in her hand.

Wasn't this orange before?

She examined the bottle but found nothing out of place. Shrugging she rubbed the soap into her hair, amazing in the fact that it smelt just like her regular shampoo.

Hey, this is my shampoo! But how did it get in here?

Those thoughts died as she heard a sharp beeping coming through the open door. She finished washing her hair, jumped out of the shower and quickly dried off. She knew that beeping was from her pager.

Dashing into her room she grabbed the device off her bedside table and checked the number.

She snorted as she recognised the number and threw the thing at her pillow in disgust. It was her boss. The stupid trumped up prat.

While she was only nineteen, she had been out of high school for almost two years. Thinking about it she couldn't understand why people exclaimed over this tiny part of her life. So, she had finished school when she was seventeen. So what?

She had been living alone for three years and had been at her current job for two of them. Well, actually she had two jobs.

One was for a well-known department store. She handled their books. It was funny since she had never been good at math, but the store let her work when she wanted and she had her own office. The owners knew that she was fast and extremely careful. As long as they had their weekly and monthly statements in on time they pretty much left her alone. All in all it was an ideal job. But it was not the one causing her grief.

Her second, and most time consuming, job was at a magic store. Not the heavy on occult, but the kind of store that sold spell ingredients, crystals and books on magical creatures, ancient gods and divining the future.

She loved the job, but the owner of the store was horrible. He was a middle aged sick creep who sexually harassed all of his female staff. According to some people she'd talked to, he'd been at it for years. When he had attempted to bully her she had risen to the challenge. She'd sued and she'd won.

He'd been ordered to pay her damages but the decision was not retroactive. All the women he'd harassed in the past hadn't minded though. He wasn't allowed to run a business anymore. They had considered that payment enough.

When it came time to re-pay his monetary debt however, she would be there. He'd have to actually sell the shop to pay the legal debts and his debt to her. Problem was no one would buy the place. All the potential buyers had said that there was an unwelcome feeling about the place, which is probably why the store was doing so badly.

Personally she had never understood it. The shop had always felt warm and inviting to her. Like coming home to a warm fire after being caught in a storm. When she was outside she could be as low as the soles of her shoes, but as soon as she stepped in that door, she felt joyful and content. The way her mother used to make her feel.

And soon it would be hers. She had it all planned. She would offer to take the store as payment for the damages awarded to her at court. He would be thrilled. He'd been trying to get rid of the 'dead-weight' of a store for the two years she'd been working there at least. Probably more.

Smiling to herself she got dressed in loose jeans and a blue tailored shirt. After pulling on her boots she faced the mirror again and whipped her short, boyish hair to the side. Or as much to the side as she could get it. Looking at it she scowled. It was totally unruly, tending to spring up all over the place and flop onto her forehead.

She looked wistfully at her image, wishing she could have her mother's honey curls, instead of her shock of wild black hair. The only thing she liked about it was the dim natural red highlights she had. She was a pale person, so she tended to look a bit gothic but when the sun hit her hair and it lit up she felt like a tiny flame. Like she herself glowed, like the boy in her dream.

Catching a glimpse of the time, she raced to the door, grabbing her keys and books. Quickly she said good-bye to her rat, Kel, named after a favorite book character, and waved at the photograph of her mother.

Taken a few months before her mother had died, she had always felt like it captured the essence of the woman. Blonde curls thrown back, smiling, eyes grey as she looked to the darkening sky above her. The picture had been taken three years ago, shortly after her mother had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

There had been tears but they had spent their time well and she had gone to the flame with the spark still in her heart.

She smiled at the photo one last time as she closed the door and raced down to her car.

She breezed into the magic store right on time. Considering the events that had kept her awake that morning her day was going pretty well. The place where she bought her coffee hadn't had a queue, so she was in and out in a flash. She had gotten every green light on the way over and had even got a parking space right out front of the horribly named 'Magic Box'.

Ugh, what a stupid name.

Putting her coffee and the one for Becca down on the counter, she said hello to the petite girl and wandered into the 'Cage' or what others knew as the boss's office.

"You beeped?" she said sticking her head around the door.

"Yes, dammit! Why the hell didn't you answer?" he near yelled.

Hmmm, grumpy, elevated voice.... He was going to tell her! Yesss! She shoots, she scores! She thought, mentally pumping her fist.

"I was in transit and could not attempt a connection until I was sure I would not be dangerously distracted," she said simply.

He looked at her with a blank stare.

"I was already on my way!" Jeez, this guy was dense!

"Oh... Listen I need to talk to you about the court debt. Now £200,000 is a lot of money and it's going to tak me awhile to come up with it. Not too long just about a year or..." he trailed off at her glare.

"Listen, I'll do you a deal. If you give me the store and its entire inventory, I'd consider the debt paid. It turns out better for you, because this store is worth about half of what you owe me," she said poker face on, eyes grim.

His expression showed a myriad of emotions before slowing to shocked, then elated.

"Sure! That would be fine.... Wait a minute. What's in it for you?" he asked suspiciously.

Damn! Just when you think he hasn't got any brain cells left, something sparks and he comes up with the million dollar question.

She shrugged.

"I just like the place."

He regarded her closely for a minute before nodding and moving to get up.

"Great! Now I'll need the bill of sale, the deed and all the keys," she stated sounding almost bored.

He nodded quickly, thinking that she was loosing interest in the sale.

"Oh, and I want you out by tonight." You pompous, disgusting pig, she added mentally.

He looked up and quailed as he met her icy glare. Slowly he nodded.

"Good."

And with that she turned on her heel and marched out of the office.

Striding past Becca, she didn't stop until she was on the pavement. Then she lost it.

She crumpled slowly to the ground, sides splitting and in the end gave up, rolling on the ground and howling like a mad woman.

After a while she composed herself, brushed some dust off her shirt and went back into the store.

"I think you frightened away the customers," Becca said as she handed her the coffee.

Their eyes met and they both burst out laughing. It wasn't long before they were rolling on the carpet.

"Yep, definitely scared them away," the other woman quipped happily as she wiped the tears from her eyes

Becca took her lunch break around noon. They hadn't had any customers so they'd just talked about what she was going to do with the store. She had reassured Becca that she would not loose her job and had finally persuaded her to get some food.

Slowly she became aware of him walking through the store. She had known he would pick this time, when he didn't have to sneak out in front of Becca. To be signing the business over to a child half his age, who had totally out smarted him, must be embarrassing.

He put the paper on the bench. He signed, she signed and he left, taking his junk with him.

She watched him go and chuckled to herself.

Asshole! She sang to herself.

When Becca came back she was not only sporting a sandwich for her but also a brand new jacket. Standing in the doorway she twirled.

"What do you think?" she asked twirling again.

"Very nice," she replied, giving a little burst of applause, "what's the occasion?"

Becca grinned evilly at her.

"We are going to celebrate! And I don't care what you say you're going," she added as her friend opened her mouth to protest.

The woman bowed her head in defeat.

The bar was packed, the band was pumping and she should have been having a great time, but something held her back. She didn't know why, after all it was one of the most exclusive clubs in London.

She didn't even know how they'd gotten in. One minute the crowd controller was frowning at them and then the next she'd acted like they were her best friends. It had been extremely weird.

She dragged herself back to the present and watched as Becca jumped up to dance with yet another hot guy. She couldn't blame them. Becca was an amazing dancer and she caught the attention of everyone but soon they would find that she had a short attention span and in a few minutes she would be with a new guy. She almost pitied them. They would look shocked and bewildered as Becca floated on like the social butterfly that she was. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, they just stood there stunned.

She sighed as she watched. For once she envied her friend. She had a degree of control and a flair of the mysterious that attracted guys like bees to a hive.

For once she wished she could be the center of attention.