Stella made her way back to her apartment with the knife. After her close call this afternoon she’d decided that she was going to spend the next few days meditating, getting fully lost in the future with no interruptions. Then she wouldn’t miss anything and the uncontrollable intrusive premonitions would ease off for a bit.

As she reached for the door handle to her apartment however, she hesitated. There was someone inside. Who? She took a moment to look ahead. But the answer was unclear. There were two options and neither one made her happy. But one of them was far far worse than the other. If she waited out here too long though he would hear her thinking. And so, pushing her thoughts down deep like she had practiced many times over the years, first with her neurotic mindwalker of a mother and then later with Bambi, she opened the door and went inside.

She was relieved to find it was the other option until she remembered the knife she had with her. That sharp knife in her hot little hand. The only thing that could kill the man in front of her. If she had wanted to, which she did not. Right? Her thoughts were muddled, mixed in with her visions of the future. She needed to meditate to sort it all out. Bambi was right and Bambi would never forgive her if she hurt Murphy. But Stella kept seeing it, and now with her own hand, over an over. The visions reached for her mind, grasped her with all the fingers they had and they forced her to look. She tried to resist as she always did when she left things too long. But they made her see the blood on her own hands. And she could feel it too, wet and sticky and real. Suddenly she realised she had been gripping the wrong end of the knife a little too tightly. She released it as fate released her mind and as her senses swiftly came tumbling back she smoothly tucked it into the belt that decorated her skirt. She kept her hands tucked neatly behind her back so he would not see the blood. As she felt the cuts healing, she wondered how much he knew.

Murphy stood in her living room with his back to her and his hands in his pockets, calmly waiting for her in the light from her full-length windows. It wasn’t direct light. Stella’s view faced south, down the coast and a little toward the sea but she was on the sixth floor, only two floors down from the top of one of Little’s Rock’s tallest buildings and the highest residential floor. The room had been carefully architected to let in as much light as possible when the occupant wanted it and only when the occupant wanted it, which for Stella was most of the time. She liked to look out. The warmth of the sun on her face up above the rest of the world helped her meditate and control her own mind.

Murphy was looking at the view. It was a nice view. In the distance sometimes the glint of the Emerald city could just be made out, not so much the wooden skyscrapers themselves but the reflection off the many thousands of windows of the people who lived and worked there. Between here and there were many miles of coastline and farmland, a few suburban blocks, and hundreds of acres of forest. Just beyond the edge of town, separating suburbia from the central part of Little Rock, was enough bush to lose a body, or several, as Stella was all too well aware. But only a few that she had buried herself and none which she had killed herself, for Stella did not kill, she merely altered the way events sometimes played out. It wasn’t the same thing at all. Not even when she knew exactly what the result would be.

“You ever wonder why they never built a ninth floor?” Murphy asked still admiring the view. He rarely ever got straight to the point. He always liked to chat first.

Stella didn’t immediately answer. She poked ahead, intentionally this time, trying to gauge what his next words would be, learning why he was here and how much if anything he knew about the knife. “No,” she replied finally, even though she had wondered that several times. He was referring to the fact that the restaurant and club above her was named ‘Cloud 9’ despite the fact that it was on the 7th and 8th floors and had been that way since the building had first been constructed. Although it had changed hands and style several times, the new owners had always kept the name. Stella had always appreciated the quality of the sound proofing. The club sometimes played music on full volume until the early hours but Stella had never had a sound or even a vibration penetrate her walls. The access hallway was also separate from her own so no late night party-goers ever disturbed her either.

“Neither do I,” Murphy replied giving her a smile as he turned.

Stella smiled back but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was too fixated on what came next and that sharp knife.

“I have a job for you.”

Stella shook her head. “Bambi said I’m to ignore you.” She eyed him carefully.

“I know.” He paused. Checked his watch. Looked back up at her. “But it doesn’t need to be done now. In a few days, weeks even, I need to you to get something for me from the University. It’s very important.”

“From Myst?!” Although Stella had her contacts at the Sorcery School, and Murphy did sometimes request her to retrieve things from there, he only did so when absolutely necessary. For the most part he stayed as far away from the sorcerers as he could. Stella figured he was afraid of them. He had after all been one of them once, as had Bambi, almost. She had just been a mage, a student, before Murphy had pulled her out, lured her away down a different path. But before she had left she had been the best, top of her class. Bambi couldn’t show her face at that place now though. Stella didn’t know the details but she did know that the way Bambi had left had been messy. Whether they thought her dead or mindwiped Stella didn’t know. And for whatever reason Murphy dared not go anywhere near the sorcerers. So access to anything in that place was available to Stella, and to Stella alone. Even so, Stella was neither mage nor sorcerer, and if she ever got caught, she risked not her life, but far worse. Cross a sorcerer and they would strip you of your self, every thought and memory that made you who you were would be gone, not even Bambi would be able to put her back together then. With Stella’s innate healing powers it was a consequence that could potentially last an eternity. But to Stella a little danger was a lure. The risk gave her a thrill. And she liked the university. She had friends there.

Murphy approached her waving a brown envelope. He held it out for her to take. “All the details are in here.”

Stella remained with her bloody hands clasped firmly behind her back. She eyed the envelope warily. It was a ploy though. She would do it, she already knew she would. Just like she knew that by giving him that look he would ask no questions and he would leave the envelope on the table where she could read it’s contents at her own leisure later.

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After some time Murphy did just as she predicted. He gave her a slight bow and placed the envelope on the coffee table. With a slightly crooked smile he remarked, “Right, well, think it over. I’ll let you rest now.” Once more he checked his watch, then suddenly seemed in even more of a hurry to leave.

Stella kept her front toward him and her hands behind her back as he swept briskly past, giving her another smile as he went. She watched him go with a curious frown. Then, ignoring the envelope, she went to the sink to wash her hands.

She was barely done drying them when there came a knock at her door. She stashed the knife beneath the sink without a thought.

She knew who it was this time.

She wished she did not. She wished he would just turn around an go away, at least for today. But it was too late. He already knew she was here. She tried to quiet her mind anyway, suppress her thoughts until only the mundane remained.

She opened the door.

“Gabby.”

“Stella.”

“I thought you were heading back to the city?”

He swept in and closed the door behind himself. He was taller than her, and stronger, and he could read her mind. His hair was a dark blonde, almost brown but not quite. He kept it tidily pulled back into a low ponytail. His eyes were blue, deeper and darker than Coal’s. But Stella intentionally did not think of Coal when she was with Gabby. She loved Coal too much for that. But she could not have him. Their future was set in stone and he had better options than her anyway. Of that she was certain. For Coal and her, in the future lay only tragedy. Gabriel’s was more uncertain and the gods help anyone else who caught his eye.

“Did you hope I had?” he asked. There was a slight accusatory tone there.

Stella was tired. Some days she loved Gabby. He’d had a rough life. He tried to be better, truly he did and some days he was wonderful and lovely and the kindest person ever. He had strong opinions and Stella loved to hear them. On the good days he could talk for hours and Stella was content to just listen. Not that he ignored her, but he never asked too much. On the good days she felt they were making progress. But on other days, on the bad days, he did not ask, he just took. On those days Stella figured it was better her than someone else. But today, today she was just tired.

“No, of course not.” To give her mind something to focus on, other than the lie, so that he would not see it, she turned and walked back toward the living room.

She never got there. He grabbed her and he pushed her back up against the wall. Then he pressed himself to her. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course I missed you.” Her voice was hollow. Stella’s thoughts and self retreated deep inside, so far in she went until she felt she was no longer there at all but on the outside looking down. He could not read her here. She separated herself from her surface mind. All that remained was a singular focus on her physical surroundings. The way his hands gripped so tight they burned her skin. Pain kept her grounded. The mundane kept her safe. She studied the blonde stubble on his chin, a day overgrown but not unkempt yet, all perfectly even. He was a handsome man with etched features, like someone had crafted his face perfectly. Pretty to look at and Stella did so easily and without feeling.

She did not give in to him completely though. That would not be good for either of them. She let him kiss her and then she tried to pull away. With a shake of the head she said, “I always miss you, but I’ve had a long day. I need to rest. Perhaps another day.”

She made it as far as the edge of the kitchen this time. He let her go and then he followed her. He spun her and he pressed her against the island counter. It dug into her back hard and he pushed her there so fast that for a moment Stella was breathless.

“But I want to see you today.” He leaned back and he studied her fully. He drunk in every inch of her.

And for a moment Stella hesitated. He wanted her. She liked being wanted. So much of her early life she had never been good enough but here and now with this it was so easy. And Gabby too knew what it was like to not be appreciated. But if she conceded then he would stay and she would get no rest. And she needed to rest. She really needed to rest. Right now she just wanted to be alone.

She tried to pull away again. “A-another day.” She manged to move a few inches to the side. But Gabby overpowered her. Not just physically. She could feel him trying to get a grasp on her mind. But in there she kept hidden while he hunted.

“I know you want me. I can see it,” he insisted.

Stella’s heart beat faster. Maybe it would be easier, quicker, if she just let him have it. But then she would hate herself tomorrow. ‘No,’ she thought at him. ‘I do not want to. Not now. Not today. I just want to... I need to rest. Let me go. Please.’

‘Liar.’ She heard the words, echo in her mind. Not her words. With some force he thrust his hand deep down the front of her skirt. The waistband was not very stretchy and the zip and the back bit into her skin so tight she was afraid he would rip it.

‘No, please.’

His fingers were cold down there. Stella tried to turn her face as he pressed his lips to the side of hers.

“Gabriel.” Another voice. Someone else in the apartment. A woman. Bambi.

She spoke his name in a cool acknowledgement. Ice cool. Like the inside of the antarctic deep beneath the surface of the sea, somewhere that hadn’t seen the sun since long before man first learned to walk. The sort of tone that could chill skin right off the bone.

He removed his hand from within Stella’s skirt and he stepped away so he could face Bambi front on.

Bambi stood there looking calmly up at him from several feet away.

“I need to talk to Stella.” That same tone again. It was neither request nor negotiation.

Stella hadn’t heard her come in. She tired to not think about how she felt about this whole situation. Some things were better not to think about.

For a moment Gabriel appeared to be sizing Bambi up but Stella knew that he would go now. She could see that, just like she could see how any fight between the two of them might end. She let that premonition rise to the surface of her thoughts, laid it bare where she knew Gabriel would notice it. Bambi was unbeatable. If he stayed Bambi would be his doom.

He stiffened. Then he inched, foot by foot, as one might side step around a venomous python, and backed away slowly without removing his eyes from Bambi until he was out of the apartment.

Bambi watched him leave. Then she turned to Stella.

Stella did not meet her eyes.

After awhile, in a soft voice and without mention of anything that had just happened, Bambi spoke. “Go rest, catch up on your visions. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

Finally Stella looked up and met her eyes. “Don’t hurt him.”

She thought she saw a muscle twitch in Bambi’s jaw, then Bambi replied, “I won’t touch him.”

Stella was too smart not to see the loophole in that. She gave Bambi a pleading look.

Bambi sighed. “Or mindwalk him.”

Stella nodded.

“Get some rest,” Bambi told her.

“Are you staying?” Stella asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“I have an errand to run.”

Stella nodded and headed toward her bedroom. Without turning around she asked, “How did you know?” She didn’t need to explain what the question was referring to.

“Murphy mentioned that you might have an unwelcome visitor.”

“He was here before too.”

“I know.”

Stella finally turned to face her. “Do you think they’ve met?”

“I don’t know, Murphy only phoned me half an hour ago.”

“You don’t think he’ll hurt him do you?”

“No comment. Go rest and maybe you’ll be able to tell me.”

Stella hesitated.

“He said he had somewhere to port to and won’t be back for a few days.”

Stella relaxed and nodded. She had time and she was so very tired.