"Action—erm, I meant Enrico, was it?" I asked Deen. "The guy who looks like an actor in an action movie? He's the grandson of the governor?"

"A former governor," she corrected me. "Milandro Haynes. I’m sure Enrico Haynes is his grandson. My father had contributed to his campaign—um, nothing. Never mind. Anyway, Enrico's also an engineering student like those creepers, I guess for their family business in ComExo parts. So likely, he’s a senior in their fraternity too, and that’s why they listened to him. And I bet it didn't hurt that he has high social standing and political connections.

"There's a lot of important people around tonight," I said with a grin.

Deen shrugged. "Well, that's EFU for you. I heard from Adrian that Enrico is generally a great guy. Definitely not like his fraternity brothers."

"What do you think of him?"

"Nothing," she simply said, raising a brow at me. "I guess I'm grateful he stepped in to help us. And no, I don't think of him that way either," she added, noticing my teasing smirk. "I have you, don't I?"

"What do you—? Oh, I get it. Because of what I said a while ago."

"Yeah…why did you tell them we were together?" Deen whispered so that the old woman mopping the puddle of coffee near our table wouldn't overhear us. "It just encouraged them to—ah, I'm not blaming you or anything, by the way. Was it because you thought they'd stop harassing us if I was in a relationship?"

"Uh...kinda." I scratched the back of my head while giving her an apologetic grin. "I'm really sorry I made the situation worse. Now, I know what I did was wrong. My bad. Really sorry."

"Like I told you before, it's best to ignore guys like that."

"But they were already trying to—"

"Are you alright, dearies?" Granny had finished cleaning Deen's mess on the floor. Such a waste of a powerful dramatic move of throwing coffee and not hitting anyone. If only she left the dramatics to me.

“We’re fine, ma’am,” Deen respectfully replied. “Thank you.”

Granny said, "I'm so sorry you had a bad experience here. Natalie and I were checking supplies in the back; we shouldn't have left the front with those disrespectful rascals around."

We assured her that it was no big deal, that we enjoyed our meal despite what happened, and that we'd certainly return someday to eat again for a nicer experience. Bla, bla, bla…

She kept going that she would've whacked them with the mop if she was around. I would've paid to see that. I also would've paid for a chance at stabbing at least one of them. On second thought, my superstrength was already returning and I might've ended up burying a dinner knife deep into their skulls. It might've been for the best that Enrico, the Action Hero—hey, that rhymed nicely—arrived to save the day.

After Granny went away, Deen continued with her gossip about the ACO fraternity members. "I'm not sure of this, but the man with the skull tattoo on his shoulder might have a record of sexually harassing some girl at a bar. Grayson, it's a familiar surname. It was covered up though, the last I've heard, that's why I don't know much about it."

"Wouldn't surprise me," I said. Was I being a judgmental bitch again here? Nah, I think I was justified to assume the worse of Skull Tattoo Bro. "Did you hear that from Adrian?"

"No, no, he wouldn't speak badly about his frat brothers like that. Just some gossip my radar picked up here and there. From what Enrico was saying, it seems to be true."

"Yep. Looks like it's not the first time he did something like this. And Enrico's the one cleaning up their mess...with his connections, no doubt."

"It appears that way," said Deen.

"I'm not sure if Enrico’s still considered a 'generally good guy' if he does that." Wow, am I standing on some moral high ground here? Of course, not. I was priming Deen for the future, testing how she viewed their situation. Checking her perspective, gauging her loyalty.

"I suppose not," she admitted. "It was Adrian who said that though, not me. I don’t condone what they did, assuming it’s true.”

Deen’s statement sparked a new idea in my head about how to test her loyalty. I slowly said, “But I understand Enrico protecting his fellow member—they're fraternity brothers. It's wrong but I can see why he’d help that creep with the skull tattoo if he committed a crime."

"That's not a very nice view for a lawyer to have."

“Just another view.”

"Prosecution or defense?" Deen said, winking at me.

"It's not like I can judge them," I said, looking down glumly at the table, ignoring her law joke. I heaved a deep sigh. "I'm also benefiting from your protection." Stroke Deen's ego, but also make her conflicted. "I know you can turn me in—"

"Erind, hush..." she fiercely hissed in warning. Then she looked behind me. The old lady probably must've returned to the counter because Deen continued talking in a low voice, "Someone might overhear us. We don't talk about that in such an open place."

"It's just that I can't judge Enrico bailing out Grayson—figuratively, or maybe literally, we don't know—because I'm worse. I'm a—"

"Don't say it," she muttered, glaring at me.

"—a you-know-what and—"

"And you're not worse. Just—"

"—you're protecting me. Aiding and abetting someone like me is, um, you know the penalties and how the law views this. Okay, you're not technically abetting me with anything, you're just not reporting me. And I'm grateful for that."

"I'll aid you, abet you, whatever term the law uses. I'll protect you, no matter what, okay?" She met my eyes and gave me a reassuring nod. "Enough of this. We've had this sort of conversation so many times already that I feel like we're a couple." She grinned at me, joking about what I said earlier. I rolled my eyes at her.

Deen is interesting. Very interesting indeed.

No hint of conflict in her demeanor at all. I expected her to have a wavering crisis if I brought up that she was breaking the law by helping me. She already knew that, but juxtaposing our situation with the case of the fraternity brothers might make her change her mind.

It didn’t, and that delighted me.

Unless Deen was the best actress ever, I was now more certain of her resolve to help me. She didn't even try to justify that she was in the right doing this—I mean we're not, but it felt like something she would do. Her moral compass was really weird. Or perhaps, this was just how normal people were?

Even in the same situation, people would use a different moral standard if they were personally involved. And that’s just with the same situation. I didn’t know what crime Skull Tattoo Bro had committed, but if I polled the people in America, I’d bet they’d say being an Adumbrae was much, much worse.

"I think we can leave now," I said.

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"Now?" said Deen. "I haven't heard their loud truck drive away yet."

Exactly, I thought.

I wasn't done testing Deen just yet. And I wanted to teach those bastards a lesson—not sure what. But they should learn about something…

Perhaps I could antagonize them some more so they'd tail us again—or not if Action Hero would stop my plans again. Antagonize? No, that was the wrong term to use and went against Rule #4.

The jackass squad already had the 'predisposition' to bother us; I was very much included in that us. What I was allowed to do was present them with an opportunity—using the words of legal sting operations—to make the biggest mistake of their lives.

Deen craned her neck to the left, out of our booth, looking at the front part of the diner. "From the lights through the windows, I think they're still there. And shadows are moving about. People are by the entrance."

"We can just leave." I held a fork at both ends and easily bent it like those fake psychic tricks famous on TV when I was a kid. "Have your powers returned?" I asked as I straightened the fork back to its original shape.

Deen looked at her fist. "I think so."

"Then we have nothing to be afraid of."

"But—"

"No buts,” I interjected. “We couldn't do anything earlier because we were powerless to fight back. Just two girls versus six guys. Now, we can beat them up if we want to."

"Uh...yes. I was helpless.” Deen shook her head. “But that doesn't mean I want to hurt them now. I don't want to stoop to their level."

I almost asked, why not? Wouldn't a normal person want to bash the ugly mugs of those bastards after what they did? I supposed, yes. Or no? This was sort of untested waters for me.

I didn't know if I was losing my touch predicting how people's minds worked or if it was just that Deen's morality was all over the place. It might just be me. Or it could be that the setting had changed; we were the way more powerful side now. My thinking did change knowing I could squish their moronic asses.

But to be fair, Erind, the best friend of Deen, wouldn't suggest something so audacious and brutal as beating up people, even if they were perverted creeps.

"That Enrico guy should be out there," I said. "It should be safe." For them, I added in my head.

Deen closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened her eyes, she had a calmer expression. "Okay, let's go."

----------------------------------------

We were able to peacefully return to Deen's car—which was a pretty big disappointment.

She was right, the bastards were waiting for us outside the front door. But they didn't do anything other than bullshit catcalling. By the end of the parking area in front of the diner, two people were talking beside a sports car. With the flickering lights of the diner sign above them, I saw that it was Action Hero and Skull Tattoo Bro.

I tried to get a rise out of the bastards by looking at them in the eye—I knew that tough guys, or those pretending to be one, would easily get offended by it.

Still, they didn't do anything. It was just Goatee Guy and Coconut Head yelling obscene shit about me and Deen being girlfriends. The three freshies were sitting in the back of their truck discussing something. I couldn't do anything drastic that'd provoke them because it would be against my face.

Boring, I thought as we drove away.

----------------------------------------

For about fifteen minutes, we drove peacefully through the desert. Deen and I didn't talk with each other, savoring the unpolluted air blowing through the open car windows. Slow hip-hop music played and I was slowly falling asleep. But before I could completely close my eyes, I saw something. I sat straight up and turned down the music.

"What is it?" Deen asked.

"Is that them?" I said, working hard to keep the excitement from my voice. The side view mirror displayed headlights coming up from behind. I wasn't sure if it was those bastards—fucking high beams, it was really them back again.

"Really?" Deen asked, her voice now more annoyed than worried compared to when the Suppressor was still in effect. Power truly did change how people acted in a given situation. "I thought everything was already sorted out?"

"Apparently not. It's just their noisy truck. No other cars. Enrico wasn't with them earlier, probably arriving in another car.”

"Then they ditched him to chase after us," Deen grumbled. "I've had plenty of guys chase me over the years, but not as literally as this."

"Wow, you're joking now? I'm glad you're feeling fine."

"Gabe isn't telling me anything, so there's no need to worry. And, you're right back at the diner. If they try something funny, we can always beat them up."

I bet her Guardian Angel was silent because it was aware of my plans.

How was it going to react knowing what I was going to do next? Would her Guardian Angel risk a confrontation with me? Not only would Deen lose to me in an actual fight despite having a stupid future-seeing pet, but she also would probably not listen to her pet at all. It was in her Guardian Angel's best interest—which was to protect her—not to get in my way.

I gave Deen a side-long glance, specifically staring at the space above her shoulder. Then I examined her face. She didn't look anxious anymore, just mildly annoyed.

While I was somewhat certain of Deen's Guardian Angel's actions, I had no idea how she, herself, would react to what I planned to do.

Time to find out.

Okay, what did a person whose mind was plagued by Adumbrae look like?

Imagine someone was annoying inside my head—SpookyErind was there, but she was chill most of the time. I pictured other Adumbrae whispering temptations, messing with their hosts' minds, those sort of stuff. Anger, hatred, perhaps something like the primal instincts of Blanchette. Recall the time I first transformed into Blanchette; I could barely control myself. And when I got hurt, anger and hunger followed. The feral rage...

"Deen..." I said in a strained voice, forcefully gnashing my teeth so loud that she'd hear it. "I feel...I feel..."

"Erind?" She turned to me and leaned closer. "Are you okay? What are you feel—? Oh my god, your hands are shaking!" She leaned closer to me, the car zigzagged a bit. I clenched my fists tighter until there was a faint snap. "What's that?" she asked, noticing the dark liquid trickling from the side of my hands down to my legs. "Erind, open your hands!"

I did, revealing deep wounds on my palm. I had dug my nails into my skin. Did it look like I was having a hard time controlling myself? "Deen...I...I'm hungry..." That was lame, but it was the only thing I could think of trying to emulate losing my mind as Blanchette.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Deen said repeatedly. She drove with one hand on the steering wheel, barely looking at the fortunately empty road ahead, as she opened the glove compartment and rummaged for something to wipe the bloodstains on my hands and legs. The wounds were already healing. "What’s wrong, Erind?" She pulled out a few pieces of crumpled pieces of paper and dabbed them on the drying blood. "What's going on?"

"I'm feeling hungry...the Adumbrae inside me..."

"Hungry?"

"It must be…so much anger at those creeps harassing us. The Adumbrae is trying to take hold…of me. I'm sorry Deen, you should just leave—"

"No! Gabe isn't telling me anything. Nothing bad is going to happen to—"

"He...he might be silent because everything would be fine if...if you just left me. Just drop me off."

"No way I'm going to do that. I'm not going to leave you."

"Just for a bit...Leave me alone just for a bit." I'd say I was doing a good job pretending to struggle to speak. I was rocking back and forth in my seat, tensing my arms. I curled my fingers, threatening to close my fists again. Deen held my left hand as she tried to steady the car. The bastards following us probably noticed something weird was going on. I said, "Come back later. Just leave me. Later...Return...I'll have control of myself again."

"If I leave you, then those ACO fratboys will go to you. I don't think they'll continue following me if they see you all alone by the side of the street."

"Exactly..." I whispered. The perfect opportunity. I wouldn’t even do anything and they’d shrug off the protection of Rule #4 on their own.

"Exactly?" she slowly repeated. My plan dawned on her. "Yo-you said that you're hungry? What are you going to do to them?”

"I...ugh...It's...it's better if you don't know," I mumbled, my words barely understandable as I gritted my teeth. I held the sides of my head as if I had a massive headache. "Drop me off, Deen. This is for your own good." Now, what are you going to do? With this, I'd be taking back control of our group of two without her realizing it. Plus, I was really interested in what the asshole platoon would do if they saw me on my own.

"I'm not going to leave you."

"Drop me off or I'll open this door and jump out on my own! Don't you understand what I'm trying—?"

"I know!" she loudly interjected. "And I'm saying I'll be with you if you do that."

Eh? That gave me pause. Did she misunderstand what I was implying? Should I clarify what I meant by 'hungry'?

"Look!" She pointed at something in the distance. "That looks like an abandoned gas station over there. It's better if we lead them there so that we're out of sight from the road."

She did know what I was implying to do. And she was going to help me? The fuck?