Merriwinter was a small town, a small suburb of a city called Luxsey. It was sparsely populated, several hundred years old, and lovingly nestled in a patch of woods to Luxsey's south. Its glorious, world-renowned university sat on a tall hill overlooking the little town, its new-age spires and domes towering into the sky. Without neo humans, no one would visit little Merriwinter on purpose. Without neo humans, no one would have invested so much in Merriwinter University's genetics program. Of course, without neo humans, the world would be a much different place.

At this point, the geneticists thought that maybe 2% of the world's population were neos, maybe a bit less. Eighty percent of that number were registered beta neos, individuals whose unique and interesting powers were considered by the government to be 'dangerous and concerning in regard to life and property'. This was a very broad generalizing statement; betas included people able to teleport through walls as well as people able to talk to animals, or people able to open doors from a distance. To say that the neo human community was of no small interest was a gross understatement. The world had its attentions affixed to the geneticists of Merriwinter.

Miranda Townsworth was one such beta. The government knew; her mother knew, and her closest friend in the world, Seth O'Brien, knew, and no one else did. It's not that she was ashamed of her powers, she just wasn't studying at Merriwinter to be making a name for herself. Miranda wasn't like Madame Vi, the beta whose powers had made her the most beautiful woman in creation, or Captain Anders, the super-soldier. She was just a girl who wanted to use her brilliance to help those in need, and to make advances in science.

Miranda stood at 5'5” and weighed just under 140 pounds. She had a messy tangle of black hair that framed her face, eyes the color of the sky, and tan skin. She frequently wore dark eyeliner, pink gloss and silver earrings. She didn't fancy herself overly feminine, but did enjoy appearing beautiful to her own standards. Miranda was twenty-three years of age, and her body was decorated with tattoos. While at university, she typically wore a blouse over a simple black sleeveless shirt, a pencil skirt, and stockings. It made her feel beautiful, but also proper, as she preferred herself.

Miranda sat at a chair in the amphitheater of the classroom, ignoring the chatter around her and idly swiping through news on her Facebook feed. She drummed her navy-blue nails on the desk and yawned. Eight-thirty A.M. was still too early to have Advanced Genetic Theory. Better than seven, she mused. She focused her attention at the door to the right wall, and as the man entered the room, conversation quieted immediately. He had his hands full of papers and books, and was stumbling up the stairs towards Miranda, but that was not what caught their attention. No, Seth O'Brien was a gamma neo, and this meant he was covered in metallic brown scales.

Hairless, tall even at his hunched posture, and lanky, Seth was Miranda's best friend, and had endured much in his life. Though anti-discrimination laws had long time ago erased most lethal hatred of neos, nothing could stop an individual person's harsh words, and certainly not the cruelty of children, from affecting them. Gammas, with their bodies obviously and physically changed by their genetics, were the most commonly targeted victims. The fact that he was bookish, nerdy and weak hadn't helped 'lizard boy' in the slightest. Miranda had gotten into a few scraps defending her friend's name.

Miranda smiled at Seth as he sat down next to her. He smoothed out his flaky lab coat, flexing his long reptilian fingers as his body adjusted to the cold, arid environment of the college. Seth adjusted his glasses as they slid down his long nose, and grumbled as he studied the schedule.

“T-too early,” He breathed. “Don't l-like getting up early.”

“No one does,” Miranda replied, shaking her coffee cup at him. The sugar water left behind by her iced latte swished around its insides. “Not even farmers.”

Seth breathed a shaky laugh and organized his papers to his own specifications. He wet his lips, as he was wont to do, and turned his head to face his friend. “Manda,” He rasped. “Wh-what is going on with you and...and, a-and Tiffany?” He stuttered.

Miranda sighed and rolled her eyes. “Nothing good.”

“S-sorry.”

“Don't be, she's a bitch,” Miranda muttered. “Don't know what I saw.”

“Y-you couldn't have...have known,” Seth replied, putting a scaled hand on her arm. “Don't give up. You'll find th-the right girl.”

Miranda smiled appreciatively and nodded. Seth comforted her insecurities just as often as she did his. He was more brother than friend. Moments later, the professor strode in – Dr. Edwin Cole, an expert geneticist. The doctor gathered his class's attention, directing their eyes to his own steely blues. Miranda gave her old mentor a wave, which he returned with a smile and an acknowledging nod.

“Hello to all, and welcome to Advanced Genetic Theory. We are here, I dare assume, in hopes of becoming doctors and experts capable of helping neo humanity,” Edwin Cole said aloud. The class murmured agreement. “Of course, we know very little about it. Please, if you will, fill me in on the details, so I know where this class stands.”

Seth's hand shot upward. Miranda watched him; he tried to make sure he was the first to point out his own condition before someone said it in a less elegant fashion. Dr. Cole pointed at him.

“Sir! Name and information, please.”

“Seth O'Brien, D-Doctor,” Seth began. “Registered g-gamma neo.” Someone behind Miranda muttered 'no shit', and Miranda stared a death glare over her shoulder.

“Noticed, Mr. O'Brien!” Cole said with a smile.

“Sir,” Seth continued shakily. “N-neo humans, are...are those born with a n-number of genetic mutations th-that result in abilities b-beyond normal scope. The four types o-of neo humanity are alpha, b-beta, gamma, and delta.”

“Correct,” Doctor Cole said. “Good to start with the basics. Yes, Mr. O'Brien is correct. However, it is important to note the disparity in rarity. Betas, as many of us already know, are by far the most common...gammas and deltas next. Can anyone here tell me how many alphas there are?”

A hand in the back shot up and Dr. Cole called on him. “Michael Williams, sir. There are 19 registered alphas across the world.”

“Indeed, and these nineteen have the power to shape the globe, socially and otherwise,” Dr. Cole said with a sense of foreboding. “Which is why we, as scientists, must learn how to help these powerful human beings deal with their mutations. Control is not the answer! We all remember the Purity Wars. We must co-exist. That is the goal of the neo geneticist.”

Miranda listened to Dr. Cole for a bit more and then began doodling on her notebook. He was only covering the basics; she'd been interested in neo humanity since she discovered her own powers. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a trinket – a old sedan, miniature in size. She rolled it back and forth on the notebook, which caught Seth's attention.

“You shrunk y-your old car?” He asked out the corner of his mouth. Miranda grinned.

“I couldn't get rid of Beverly,” She said softly. “I loved Beverly.” Her ability to shrink inanimate objects came in handy sometimes, but she couldn't imagine why the government decided it was dangerous. She didn't know how to grow things back; it's not like she could sneak a weapon anywhere.

“Isn't it weird to...to imagine, yeah? Th-that you were driving that l-little thing once.”

“Please don't bring logic into my powers, okay?” She asked with a chuckle. Dr. Cole was still talking.

“...in this day. Alpha neo powers, of course, are beyond our imagination – beyond their imagination. Up until his death four years ago, there was a man in Britain who could exchange his mind with another being's, and the only way to tell was by the color of his eyes!” Cole exclaimed. “Who knows what the future holds. This is why we must learn, why we must understand them all, not just alphas. Deltas, as we know --”

The door creaked open slowly, and Miranda heard the heels clicking before she saw anything else. The girl that came through the door was beyond a shadow of doubt the most enchanting woman she had ever beheld. Luxurious deep red hair cascaded down to the middle of her back in sweeping waves. Pale skin, tattooed and flawless, appeared and disappeared with her movements. Her lips were as red as her hair and adorned with two rings of silver on the lower lip. The redhead wore black knee-high boots with a small heel, black leggings that conformed to her shapely legs, and a tight button-down over a long-sleeved black shirt. The buttons stopped being fastened just underneath her ample bosom, pushing her chest up. She moved like fire and smiled in a way that made Miranda's cheeks flush.

“Sorry I'm late, so sorry,” The girl spoke with a hint of a London accent. The accent did not help to dissuade Miranda's opinion of her. “Kira, Kira Northvale.”

“No issues, Miss Northvale, take a seat.” Kira nodded and smiled that perfect smile, and strode towards the seats. As she did, her emerald eyes looked up and caught Miranda's stare. Miranda blushed hard and averted her gaze, but Kira's verdant eyes twinkled. She sat herself in the front row and turned to face the professor.

“Now that everyone is here, I hope,” Dr. Cole continued. “Deltas, as we know, are a minority group of neo humans and have powers that are not deemed to be potentially dangerous by the government...”

Miranda tried to pay attention to Cole, or at least take notes a quarter of how diligently Seth was, but Kira dominated her mind, even from behind. She kept staring down at the girl – how in the hells did she get her hair so shiny? Kira looked like a goddess made manifest. Miranda's mouth was dry and her body ached. God, she thought, how long has it been again...?

“You g-gonna be okay?” Seth muttered without glancing at her. Miranda barked at him to shut up and stared deliberately at Dr. Cole, taking notes furiously on things she knew ten years ago. Why was Seth still writing this down? He was far smarter than she was.

The three hours dragged on, but Miranda didn't fault the doctor; he had to begin somewhere. He talked about historical neos, and the 'superhero celebrity' status some have took on through their actions, such as the pyrokinetic Orion; he also discussed their 'villain' contrasts, though he expressed distaste at using both terms. Afterward, Seth excused himself to go collect things from his lab, and Miranda stepped down to talk to the professor. He and Kira were in conversation.

“Miss Townsworth,” Doctor Cole said. “It is nice to see you this semester.” Kira's too-green eyes briefly traveled over Miranda. She felt herself blush again.

“H-hello, Doctor Cole. You are straight to the point as always! Haha...” She laughed and grinned. “I was hoping to get access to the labs this semester?”

“Ah, yes. Of course. Miss Northvale was interested, too. She's a delta neo.”

Kira smiled plaintively, playing with one of her crimson curls.

“Oh!” Miranda said. “Very interesting. What, um, what can you do?”

Kira shrugged a shoulder as elegantly as anyone ever could and smiled her Aphrodite grin. “I manipulate candlelight...” She giggled and rolled her eyes. Miranda felt her legs weaken. That giggle, that infernal accent...Christ, how did this girl do that to her by giggling and rolling her eyes? “Haha, not well, mind you. Just a bit of flickering, a few things that can barely be called parlor tricks. I'm so sorry, hello, I'm Kira. Kira Northvale.” She extended a hand with nails the color of her hair, a few silvery bracelets jingling. Miranda returned the gesture.

“Manda...Miranda Townsworth.”

“You wish to study in the labs?” Kira asked curiously. “So do I. Perhaps we could meet up later? I'm frightfully new here.”

“Yes, yes,” Miranda said, nodding. “They have blood samples from all over the world, and the best equipment government funding can buy.” Edwin Cole nodded nearby with a bit of pride.

Kira's eyes lit up excitedly. “Oh wonderful. I'm such a dork, I'm sorry! I'm obsessed with this whole issue. It's my passion.”

This fact, again, did nothing to sway Miranda's wanton desire.

“Both of you, please see me tomorrow; I'll make some lab keys. Kira, I'll need to see your credentials, just to make sure you're cleared for lab work. I know you're good, Miranda. If you'll excuse me, ladies.” Dr. Cole gave them both a nod and headed out the door. Kira smiled at Miranda.

“I'll see you later, Manda?” Kira said softly.

At hearing her name spoken by this succubus, Miranda had to remind herself to think. “Yes! That sounds good. Have a nice night, okay?”

Kira nodded, spun on her pretty heels, and strode out of the room, leaving Miranda to wonder how the semester would play out. At least, she said with a heavy sigh as she weighed her own shyness against itself, she'd have a new friend.

Three weeks had passed; three weeks of introductory classes, of reviewing semesters that Miranda had aced with flying colors, of the same old boring shit that she'd been exposed to for the first three-quarters of her degree program. Miranda wanted her doctorate; she wanted real work, real studies, government-level access to the truth behind neo humanity. She didn't just want to know why, she wanted to know how and what's next.

But, alas, curriculum was as curriculum was, and so Miranda Townsworth had endured. Three weeks came and went, and her credentials came through as they had in years passed. Now, she walked the concrete sidewalk to the dorms on the west side of campus with a spring in her step; lab work with Kira had been wonderful.

Not only was the redhead unrelentingly charming and interested in the field, she was a genius. The two compared notes and talked about their past work, what they'd been exposed to, why they were so intrigued by the prospects that neo humans had to offer. Kira flashed her elegant smile the whole time, and she must have realized how foolish Miranda became around her? The blushing, the staring. A girl of Kira's caliber must get it all the time...she was probably used to it. Maybe even actively avoiding it. Miranda thought herself a pig.

Miranda keyed herself into the dorm building and rode the elevator to the third floor. The dorms, like the rest of Merriwinter U, were modern, fancy and expensive. They were still spotless from summer cleaning, and around her, students still were moving their things back and forth in fits of procrastination. She slid her card into the reader on dorm 328, and so entered her own two-bedroom suite. Her roommate, Rebecca Highland, sat on the couch, watching TV and lazily eating a protein bar. Though she usually watched reality TV and sitcoms, right now she was watching the news.

“Still nothing has been found relating to Hasif Nurala, better known as the vigilante pyrokinetic 'Orion', one of the world's most powerful alpha neo humans,” The news anchor said. “Mr. Nurala has been missing for months, and was last seen in New Antioch.”

“Hey,” Miranda said with a smile. Rebecca turned to her and acknowledged her with a smile. Though they weren't the greatest of friends, this was mostly due to a difference of interests; neither of the girls had an issue with the other. Rebecca was studying business; she was a party girl, in a long-term off-and-on heterosexual relationship with a guitarist named Brad, and liked reality TV. She also, handily, was not a neo human, as far as Miranda knew.

“Sup, Mands,” Rebecca replied curtly. Her straight platinum blonde hair followed her pretty head as she turned to look at her roommate. “How'd your date go?” She said with a grin.

“It wasn't a date, Becca!” Miranda stated yet again. “We just met up for lab work.” She reached out her hand to her cat, Cora. Cora's yellow eyes stared up at her owner, and the all-black cat meowed happily.

Bradley McDenfer stuck his head out the entrance to Rebecca's dorm, a shirt half-pulled over his chiseled body. “You get with your siren yet?” He moved a piece of brown hair aside and ducked his tall frame under the door's.

Miranda threw up her hands in dismay. “What do you people do, talk about my love life all day? No, I haven't 'gotten with her yet'. She's so far out of my league, it isn't funny. No really, it's not funny. Shush,” She commanded. She sat down and smoothed her skirt out. “But lab was fine, thank you. Kira knows what she's talking about.”

“Eh, leagues are crap,” Rebecca said. “The way you describe her, she must be used to lowering her standards.” She grinned sarcastically at Miranda.

“You're so nice, thanks.” Miranda replied with just as much sarcasm.

“I actually heard something about Kira you might find interesting,” Brad said, pulling the shirt over the rest of him and sitting down next to Rebecca. Cora headbutted his leg and he scritched her behind the ears. “She's from Prescott Heights.”

Miranda cocked her head to the side in curiosity. Two months ago, the entire suburb of Prescott Heights in nearby Luxsey went up in smoke when the Hotel Siracco basically exploded. Hundreds were dead in the first moments, and the fire burned at an unnatural temperature. Most of the small, rich town was devastated.

“Huh,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. “Where'd you hear that?”

“Doc Cole, originally. I did some searching around, and the word is she moved to Prescott Heights like six years ago, from England.” Brad said. “Explains the accent. The Doc was mentioning that her credentials came faxed from her dad's estate in Prescott Heights. He's gotta have one of the what, ten houses left standing? That was some blaze.”

“Let's talk about something else, okay?” Rebecca asked coldly. One of her friends had died in the incident. Brad immediately lowered his gaze.

“Sorry babe,” He replied apologetically.

“When do you see Kira again, Manda?” Rebecca asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, uh, probably in Advanced Genetics on Wednesday. Why?” Miranda replied. Cora leapt into her lap and demanded attention.

“Ask her out.” Rebecca said with a shrug. Brad nodded.

“What, just like that?” Miranda asked with a laugh. “I should get to know her first.”

“Make a move before someone else does. I've seen her, and though I don't get the same, ah, urges you do when it comes to girls, I certainly can tell who's hot and who's not,” Rebecca said. “And if you don't act quick, someone's gonna.”

Miranda chewed her lower lip in frustration. The idea of looking into Kira's emerald irises and proposing romance was more daunting than any thesis she'd ever have to explain to a board of doctors. She didn't even know if Kira was into girls!

“I d-don't wanna make things weird,” Miranda stammered. “Besides, she's a professional.”

“Yeah,” Brad said. “A professional goddess.” Rebecca smacked his arm and rolled her eyes.

Miranda stood up and grabbed her bag. “I can't deal with this right now, I have a report on dead famous neos to write. Thank you both for your advice.” She turned on her heel and walked into her room, closing the door behind her with Cora in her arms.

*** *** *** 

Kira Northvale smiled her crimson smirk up at the class as she stood in front of Edwin Cole's desk. Her delicate hands held her paper in her hands, and she'd been reading to them about Madame Vi, one of the world's most famous neo humans. Like the rest of the class, Miranda's attention was partly fixed on her words, and much like most of the class, partly fixed on the way her lips moved.

“...Victoria Esqualle was among the first to openly discuss her powers in public,” Kira said in her gorgeous accent, lightly pacing. Without trying, she owned their attention. “She claimed to have been gifted with extraordinary beauty, as well as pheromones that made people want to listen to her, wanted to be near her, to make her happy. Sadly, Madame Vi met her end nine years ago, when a spurned gangster gunned her down in the streets of London,” She continued. “Her sacrifice and martyrdom would be honored to this very day; neo humans have much to thank Ms. Esqualle for.” She bowed to the class, and they applauded her.

“Quick and to the point, thank you, Kira,” Doctor Cole replied. “We have time for one more. Miss Townsworth, if you would, please.”

Seth gave Miranda a reptilian, friendly smile, and Miranda took her paper and stepped down to the center of the class. Kira smiled at her as well as she passed, taking her usual seat in the front row. Miranda cleared her throat and the class silenced.

“My report is on...,” She began, but swallowed hard. Kira's eyes were boring into her, unflinchingly. She felt like a mouse spotted by a cat. “M-my. Report is on...Father Eigner...the Alpha of Austria. Father Eigner was a holy man whose powers did not manifest until his mid-twenties...,” Miranda purposefully looked somewhere else. “He was classified an alpha neo due to his remarkable ability to strengthen, bolster, and jumpstart a person's ability to heal, and there are many d-documented....,” She paused again.

Her eyes barely caught the movement of Jeremy Burns, who sat next to Kira. He whispered something to her and she blushed, giggling quietly for a moment. Miranda felt a hot twang of jealousy, as well as the pit-delving feeling of her hopes imploding.

“Mr. Burns, if we could try to not act like undergrads, I would appreciate it.” Edwin Cole said flatly.

“Sorry sir.” Jeremy replied quickly. Kira straightened up and focused her eyes on Miranda again.

“Thank you,” Miranda said hotly. “There are many documented cases of the Reverend healing what were thought to be fatal diseases. It is unfortunate and cruel, of course, that his healing powers did not extend to his own body. Father Eigner served as a cardinal in the Vatican for many years before cancer of the liver took him...”

Her report went on, a bit longer than the others'. When it was done, everyone applauded, and Dr. Cole ushered her back to her seat. He instructed them on their next paper – a much longer, graduate-level paper on genetic mutation theory. Miranda gathered her things, slipping her books into her bag.

“I-it's too bad he's...he's dead,” Seth said with a grimace. “The Father. He might've been a-able to...to help me.”

“You don't have a disease, Seth, you're mutated from birth. That's not healing, that's eugenics, and that's messed up,” Miranda replied curtly.

Seth grimaced and nodded. “I g-guess so. Oh...o-oh, hey Kira.” Miranda's eyes snapped upward. Kira stood in front of her chair, perfect teeth shining through her grin.

“Could we walk, Miranda?” Kira asked. “I would be very much interested in discussing potential topics. You don't mind if I steal her away for a moment, do you, Seth?” She asked, turning to the gamma neo and smiling again.

“No, n-no, of course not, no.”

Kira toyed with one of her curls again. “Much appreciated! I will meet you by the door, okay?” She twirled around and stepped over to discuss something with the professor. Seth met Miranda's eyes.

“Manda.” He said firmly.

“Not yet.” Miranda said quickly.

“You w-will do this. Do it, before that asshole B-Burns does!” Seth whispered harshly. A bucket of cold water splashed into Miranda's stomach. Seth had seen it too.

“Fine, fine! God. But if I come home sobbing hysterically I want you to be ready to get over to me with ice cream and whiskey.”

“Yeah, y-yeah. As you w...wish. Go.” Seth said. He resumed picking up his things and Miranda tip-toed down the stairs. Kira held the door for her, and the two of them walked out into the brisk, late morning.

They discussed the weather; Cora and then Kira's cat Lilith. The two ladies giggled as they talked about the foolish antics of energetic cats, and soon, they sat under a pavilion, sipping iced tea and waiting for Miranda's 1:30 class to start.

“I don't know what to even pick for my topic,” Kira said. “It's such a broad subject. Does Doctor Cole always teach like this?”

“Yeah, he's an easy professor. Gives us work because he has to; he'd rather see us in the labs.” Miranda said. Her heart pounded in her chest. Now or never.

“What are you going to research, Manda?” Kira asked politely.

Miranda gulped. “Not sure. M-maybe,” She began. She wrung her hands in nervousness. Kira's eyes studied her, and Miranda damned whatever Abyssal god had created a creature so simultaneously sexy and cute. “Maybe we could discuss it...over...dinner?”

A tense moment passed. One second. Two seconds. Three. The bucket of ice water had become a melting glacier creating a lake of doubt. Kira would pull away. She'd be disgusted. She'd never look at Miranda the same way again.

“Sounds good to me.” Kira said simply.

Miranda's heart nearly exploded. Endorphins filled her, warmth spreading to her fingers and toes. She wanted to say something foolish, like, 'So you'll give me a chance', or 'I'll treat you like the Goddess you are', but instead, she just mumbled and smiled stupidly.

“You're cute,” Kira said with a grin, holding her head up with her delicate hand and watching with an amused, arched eyebrow. “When's good for you?”

“S-seven? Tomorrow? After lab?” Miranda asked hopefully.

Kira smiled and settled into the pavilion's bench. “Works.” She said, and resumed sipping her tea.

The two of them sat in silence, reading their research books and drinking tea. Miranda was a swirl of emotions, but Kira was as calm and collected as always. Doubt, excitement, worry, fear, insecurity, jubilation and mirth came and went as fast as light. Nervousness wracked Miranda to the point of nausea. But, she had a chance. She had a date, a potential beginning to a relationship with a girl no living soul had any right to touch.

After another few moments, Kira said, “You just gonna stare?” Miranda fumbled with her book and nearly squeaked. “It's 1:25, Miranda. Get to class. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Miranda stood up and almost bowed goodbye. Kira chuckled and shook her head in amusement.

“Adorable,” She said. “Go.” Miranda turned around and left, and Kira watched her, emeralds twinkling in the noonday sunlight.

“You are so impatient,” Rebecca said, eying Miranda as she paced about her dormitory. Miranda looked a sight; she was wearing her cutest outfit but her nervousness had breached the surface and now was dangerously close to becoming a frothy mix of euphoria and hysteria. Miranda had chosen the pin-up look, deciding to wear a striped white blouse that snugly fit her chest and waist, as well as a long, flowy black skirt that tended to hug her hips and butt. A gold necklace with her birthstone – opal – in it hung down to her cleavage. She felt beautiful, stunning even, but as soon as her thoughts turned to Kira, her mouth became dry and she began trembling again.

“What if I mess it up.” Miranda said quickly, balling her hands up in worry.

“Shush. You'll do fine. You are a wreck! Pull yourself together, would you?” Rebecca said, her eyes wide at her roommate's behavior. She stood up and grasped Miranda's shoulders. “Manda. Holy shit.”

Brad walked out of Rebecca's room, idly tuning his guitar, and his jaw dropped when he saw Miranda in her dress. “Hot damn, girl, you look good,” Rebecca gave him a look, but he held up his hands in surrender. “Just stating facts.”

“No, she does,” Rebecca said, smiling at Miranda. “You're gonna have a great time.” She turned around and sat back on the couch, turning her attention to Cora as the cat passed underneath and nuzzled Miranda's exposed ankles.

“I can see your ankles, very risqué,” Bradley said with a laugh. “How will she be able to take it?”

“You mean, how will I be able to take her,” Miranda said with a sigh, leaning against the wall. “Can you imagine what she'll be wearing?”

“You're both far too pretty.” Rebecca said with a sideways grin.

Miranda scooped up Cora and nuzzled the cat's nose. Cora responded with a soft meow and attempted to climb onto her owner's shoulders, which prompted the raven-haired girl to set her down. After another moment, the buzzer rang, not two minutes before seven. Miranda impulsively threw her phone onto her bed and practically skipped over to the door. When she opened it, every last prediction failed to do anything justice, and her breath left her in a whoosh.

Kira wore a vintage dress that covered most of her, stopping halfway up the forearms and going down to her knees. It clung to her curvacious body as though vacuum-pressed, and was the color of a clear night. Her hair cascaded liquid-like down her shoulders, curled much moreso than usual and held in place with a loose black bow. Red gloves adorned her hands, and red nylons ended in shiny black pumps. The redhead smiled her infectious grin at the three people in the room.

“H-hey,” Miranda said breathlessly. She was honestly surprised she had the ability to form words. “Come in.”

Kira stepped in, toying with a small peridot that hung on a silver chain around her neck. She waved at Rebecca and Brad, the latter of which quickly averted his gaze away from her afterward.

“This is my dormmate, Rebecca, and her boyfriend, Brad.” Miranda said.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Rebecca said sweetly. Brad just waved numbly.

“Are we ready to go, Manda? Dinner is at 7:45,” Kira asked. Miranda nodded, and the two girls stepped out of the dorm and building into the night. Kira played with her keychain and grinned at her companion. “You look beautiful. That blouse is so pretty.” Kira stated.

“I look – have you seen yourself?” Miranda replied incredulously. The pair slipped into Kira's two-door sedan and took off towards Luxsey.

“Yeah, the whole bloody time I was getting ready, and honestly, I've done much better before. I couldn't get these stupid curls right,” Kira said, poking one of her crimson curls and frowning in frustration.

“Shut up, you're a goddess.” Miranda spurted before she could stop herself. She felt herself redden, and Kira giggled.

“And you are just too nice to me. Have you ever been to this place?” Kira asked. “I used to go all the time when I lived with my dad.” Kira had suggested an Italian restaurant called Biondi's in the rich part of Luxsey, and had even offered to pay the difference between what Miranda got and what she could afford. She had made it clear to Miranda she had far more money than she knew what to do with.

“No, I've never even heard of it. Mind you, I've only been to this part of Luxsey twice, and both were school trips to see the capital buildings.”

The two of them let conversation dissolve, and then put on music, comparing their favorites – both girls favored symphonic metal, rock and indie, with Miranda leaning more towards vocal ranges and Kira praising instrumental harmonies. Paper Shoes by Incubus was finishing as the car pulled into a spot just a block away from Biondi's.

Uptown Luxsey looked much the same as downtown did – minus the dirt. People walked about in suits and dresses at the very least as fashionable as those of Miranda and Kira. In each spot was parked a car worth fifty grand. Biondi's was a street-level restaurant at the bottom of one of the office towers, and a cultured man in a suit ushered the ladies in, referring to them as 'Madame Northvale and Guest'.

Kira had apparently requested a booth in the back, far from the majority of the dinnergoers and noise. A crackling fire occupied a perpendicular wall, and above them, criss-crossed wine racks held polished glasses. Two candles decorated their beautiful oak table, and Miranda blushed hard the entire time. Within moments of sitting, Kira sipped a Venica Ronco delle Cime, and Miranda had barely touched the gin she had quietly asked for.

“Do you like it here?” Kira asked between sips.

“Yes, it's beautiful. I mean...richer, than I'm used to...but beautiful.” Miranda replied.

Kira rolled her eyes. “I can't spend my dad's money fast enough. Mum didn't raise me to be frivolous, so I don't know how to spend this...inheritance. I'm absolutely loaded, but it's still in my mind to think two hundred dollars is a ridiculous sum for a date for two. You know?”

“Yeah,” Miranda replied, still occasionally stunned by Kira. “I don't have experience, but I get what you're saying.”

“Mum of course wants nothing to do with the man or his legacy, so she won't take his money,” Kira continued on, drinking again. “So I'm stuck with it.”

Miranda grinned behind her glass. “Oh, how awful.”

Kira laughed a real laugh, not just her tiny giggle, and returned her attention to the menu. “It does make a lot easier, for sure. Oh my god, Manda. Get the salmon here, it's incredible.” She pointed it out to Miranda, leaning forward, and Miranda's candle sputtered uncontrollably. Kira backed up quickly.

“Oh, your...uh...” Miranda began.

“Powers, yeah. Candles freak out near me, sorry...” She opened her mouth to explain more when the waiter showed up and took their orders. After he departed, Kira turned back to her companion.

“Okay, talk to me about it. What can it do?” Miranda asked, tilting her head at Kira. The redhead blushed and sputtered a bit.

“W-well, I mean. I'm a delta...so not much.” She smiled weakly. “It, uh, sparked my interest.” She grinned at Miranda mischievously.

“Did you just make a fucking pun?” Miranda asked her, supporting her head with her palm.

Kira giggled. “It started my interest in neo human research, but I must admit it's pretty flimsy. Here, watch,” Kira said. She waved her fingers at her candle; the tiny sputtered, swayed, and then began dancing unnaturally. It moved to the side, and then the other, curving and arching. Slowly, the flame sorted itself into the form of a curvy, dancing woman, who rose her tiny, fiery arms up and down in a sensual dance. Miranda was mesmerized; not just by the show, but by how Kira's eyes looked in firelight.

“That's so cool,” She breathed. Kira smiled, and the flame leapt off its candle onto Miranda's and began dancing with her flame, which had also become a small exotic dancer. The two danced around each other, their embers mixing and fading. Finally, after a few moments, Kira's flame locked her incendiary lips upon Miranda's, and the two flames died. Kira watched Miranda's expression, her emeralds glittering again.

“It's a parlor trick. I mean, I'd probably be a beta if I could manipulate anything larger than this, but the government agent that tested me said no. If I even try, I get exhausted,” Kira said. She looked ashamed. “I wish I could do more.”

Miranda touched her hand and smiled appreciatively. “Hey, it's cool. I really liked that.” Kira's smile widened more than usual and her gaze met Miranda's for a soul-searing second. Miranda felt her breath get heavy again.

“Ladies, your food,” The waiter said as he arrived. He grimaced at the unlit candles and quickly lit them again before bowing and retiring to the kitchens. Miranda salivated and whimpered over the taste of the glazed salmon while Kira enjoyed a lavish pasta dish. The two dined in silence, stopping only when Kira made her flame spit an ember into her food.

“Too cold,” Kira said through a mouthful of pasta. Miranda laughed.

“So,” Miranda said. “This wasn't just a ruse to get a date out of you. I would actually like to talk about work.”

Kira smiled and folded her hands over each other elegantly. “Okay, lovely. What's on your mind?”

Miranda sputtered a bit and tried in vain to control the redness that overtook her face – it was the first time Kira had used an endearing term, and she hoped to every deity in existence that it wasn't the last. “I-I thought to discuss...well, topics...for future projects,” Miranda said. She smiled sheepishly. “That is...I have friends who've done this class. I know some.”

“Yes, I was a bit confused; this next one seems straightforward.” Kira replied curtly. Her eyes locked onto Miranda's, unblinking.

“I know the final is lab work, so we'll do fine. But there's another paper on the attempts made by people to 'cure' neo humanity, as well as one on the Purity Wars – and he fails people who just give him a historical account,” Miranda said. She brushed a piece of her unruly hair aside and kept on trucking. “Also, there's a paper on theoretical alphas from history.”

“You mean like situations where there might have been an alpha neo before humanity realized what it was? Before science caught up?” Kira said, tilting her pretty head to the side and idly playing with the last remnants of her food.

“Yeah,” Miranda nodded. “There's a lot of people who think that ancient gods may have been alphas. Well, not all of them, but some.”

“That's one of my favorite topics,” Kira said excitedly, putting her hands on Miranda's, who turned as red as Kira's hair again. “Can I show you something?” Miranda nodded. Kira took her hand and the two of them went into the public bathroom. Kira turned around and moved her hair aside. On her shoulder blades were tattoos of two women. One was dark skinned and blonde, stern and fierce, wearing a robe of ivory silk and framed by a halo of glowing light. The other was the first's inverse; pale, utterly gorgeous, with flowy hair of black, wearing robes of whispy shadow that were apparently designed to show off her body. They faced each other, sitting on thrones appropriate to their apparent portfolio. Between them, at Kira's spine, a perfect circle hung, half of it white and shining, gradually dimming until at the other side it was as dark as a full eclipse. It was interesting to Miranda that the bright side faced the pale one, while the eclipsed side faced her sister.

“Oh my god...” Miranda said breathlessly. The detail was absolutely amazing. “That's so beautiful. I've never seen such a pretty tattoo of Lumine and Tenebria before. Who did this? It's gorgeous...”

“A man in London. I like their story a lot,” Kira said, grinning back at Miranda over her shoulder. “Their interactions, with each other and with their subjects.” Miranda nodded. She knew the story as well.

“Well, you do Lumine et Tenebria then --” Miranda began. Kira tossed her hair back over her shoulders and shook her head, turning to face her companion.

“No, you do them! I can't; that would be too easy.” Kira said quickly. “I rather dislike free As. But you must do it! I would love to hear enthusiasm about them from someone other than me.” She said with a huff.

“Okay, okay.” Miranda said, holding up her hands. Kira giggled. “We should probably get back before they think we're fucking in here.” She said.

Kira nodded and the two of them returned to their table, only for a moment to pay their bill and tip their waiter, and then began the drive back to Merriwinter. This time, the music stayed off, and the two discussed mythology in earnest. Before they knew it, they were at Miranda's dorm building. Kira walked her to the door and smiled at her.

“You're fun,” Kira said, smiling. “Thanks for entertaining me. See you in class tomorrow, okay? Text me.” She kissed Miranda's cheek before the girl could reply, leaving Miranda bright red and speechless, her thoughts a blur of euphoria and desire.

“Y-yeah...um.” Miranda sputtered. Kira giggled her small laugh and got extremely close, her expression all playful mirth and seductive poise.

“You're cute,” She practically breathed. “Goodbye, lovely.” She turned around and got in her car, speeding away. Miranda stood there in the moonlight, her body exploding on the inside, her thoughts even worse. With a trembling hand she let herself into the building and went to sleep a very happy woman.

*** *** ***

Kira Northvale walked up the brick walkway to her father's estate in Prescott Heights. Her heels clicked audibly in the silence of the night, and she felt a chill as the autumn's wind brushed through her. But, like every other source of cold, it left as soon as it came. She was still not used to the idea that she'd never be cold again.

Sure, the estate was an hour from University, but by now she'd figured out exactly when she had to leave to arrive on time. It was still much better than a dorm or an apartment. Her father had chosen to live in a relatively secluded part of Prescott Heights, and thus, not only was she guaranteed alone time if she wanted it, but the place had been spared the solar inferno that claimed the rest of the town...and by a bit of horrible luck, the estate was now hers by right.

Kira felt a stab of guilt, as she often did. It wasn't fair. She'd never meant for him to die; or anyone, for that matter. But the tears had long since evaporated away on her burning skin, and there were none left for Reginald Northvale.

The redhead unlocked the door's three locks and stepped in. The grand, sweeping foyer met her eyes, and with a flourish of her fingers, the candles in the chandelier above her lit and illuminated the centuries-old wood and stone. Her heels clicked louder on the hardwood, and she deposited her books on one of the stone stairwells that curved around the foyer's sides. She entered a ground-floor room and regarded her father's choice of interior decorating. Another flourish, another candle lit. Slowly, Kira stepped in front of a candle-lit mirror.

She touched her face, staring deep into the green eyes that looked back at her. She half-wondered if she could do it to herself. Still, almost a decade later, she couldn't believe that what was looking back at her was actually her. Everything came so easy. People bent backwards for her. They went – extremely, even – out of their way for her slightest whims. She didn't even have to do anything. Was it so easy? Power filled her mind and body, warming her in a different way than her inherent heat. She smiled at the irony of that last thought. 'Inherent' wasn't a proper word, really--

“Witch,” A hoarse voice said. Kira turned slowly and smiled at the broken middle-aged man that stumbled towards her. His body was trembling, and he wore only dirty shorts. “My al'praddah wasn't enough? You now need my pride?”

Kira simply sat in a giant leather arm chair and swung her beautiful legs over one of the arms. “Mister Nurala,” Kira said calmly, her accent tinting her words. “I have done no such thing. The fact that I am better at your...al'praddah...than you is not my fault. You claimed to wished to serve me forever. I recorded this. You've seen the video.”

The middle-eastern man collapsed into a couch across from her, shivering and grasping at a blanket nearby. “So c-cold. How...please, please. Warm me.”

Kira rose an eyebrow, aware of how the candlelight made her look. “You will ask politely.”

Hasif Nurala considered this, as he'd already said please, but suddenly understood. “Please...mistress.”

Kira smiled and leaned forward, her voice as silky as her hair. “Close. Try again...”

Orion blinked pointedly. “G-Goddess?” His eyes glazed over, and he stumbled forward onto his knees, blissfully ignorant of the scuffing on his knees. “Goddess Kira.” Warmth suddenly spread through him, and he moaned as if in ecstasy, collapsing bodily onto the floor before his Goddess. Kira regarded him with an arched eyebrow, and he slowly kissed her heels.

“I want a drink, Nurala...” Kira said, yawning. Hasif stood up without a moment's hesitation.

“A-as you wish.” He said, and quickly left to get her something. Kira settled in her chair and sighed. She had no time to train him; he'd best learn quick. Kira flicked her fingers and stared at the flame that manifested. She twirled it between her lithe fingers and watched it die out as she considered the night's events. Feeling actual attraction towards Miranda was not part of her plan.

As she took the drink from Hasif and watched him grovel pathetically again, Kira applied herself to the task at hand. The plan was increasingly more complicated, and more Hasif Nuralas was not anything she wanted. Why was it so hard to just take a life? She certainly could, now.

“Hasif,” Kira asked her servant. “Do you wish to die?”

Orion looked at her in confusion. “But then how could I serve you, Goddess?”

Kira smiled sweetly and stroked his face; he winced at the severe temperature of her hand. “Time will tell that, I suppose. But you are happy, as my devoted?”

Nurala nodded numbly, his eyes as affectionate and hungry as Miranda's. Kira smiled her elegant grin and regarded his expression. It was, indeed, so easy.

The restaurant this time was called Frank's, the clothing was far more casual – Miranda had chosen her tightest jeans, fishnets visible through its various rips and tears, as well as a layered top featuring a plaid button-down over a simple black, clingy shirt. She'd been asked to pick the location of the second date, a week and a half later, and now waited expectantly at the table, occasionally slurping iced tea. She pulled her old car from her purse and idly played with it, rolling the shrunken object up and down the contours of her plate. The restaurant's bell rang and Miranda snapped her attention to it, smiling as Kira walked in, tucking a strand of crimson under her ear. She was wearing glasses today, thin violet frames; Miranda bit her lip. They were pretty sexy, she thought.

Kira sat down across from Miranda, wearing far more casual clothes as well – though they still managed to show off every curve she had. “Oh my gods, I am so sorry, lovely,” Kira apologized. She put her hand on Miranda's and bit her lip nervously. “Traffic in this town gets worse by the day!”

“It's okay,” Miranda said, shaking her head at how sweet Kira was. “I've barely been here five minutes.” Kira settled into her chair and looked around the 50's-era diner, her emerald irises taking in the surroundings. The two ladies had caught the attention of the male cooks, who now stared enviously from behind the counter; Miranda had brought girls here before, but never someone as regal-presenting or as gloriously beautiful as Kira.

“This is...” Kira said, smiling and shrugging slowly. “Nice.”

“Yeah, I know it's not exactly what you're used to, Miss Daddy's Money,” Miranda said with a sarcastic grin, raising an eyebrow over her glass of tea. “Some of us have to deal with meals that cost less than a week's paycheck.”

“Sassy, so sassy,” Kira said, tsking at Miranda. She picked up the menu and yawned cutely. “What do they have?”

“You know, diner stuff. Hamburgers, breakfast food, wraps, salads. Really good milkshakes – oh man, get a milkshake. They goooood.” Miranda said eagerly. Kira laughed at her and mocked her.

“They goooood,” Kira mocked. Her accent made the statement even more ridiculous, and they laughed together. Kira did in fact order a strawberry milkshake from the waitress when she came back, and then held up her phone. “I got a text from Seth a couple of hours ago...he asked me to accompany you to his lab. Do you know what's up?”

Miranda drummed her fingernails on the table. “I dunno. He asked me to come down to the labs when I was talking to him last night. Maybe it's his gamma reversal gene.”

Kira's eyebrow rose. “His what?”

Miranda leaned forward and took the straw of her tea between her lips. “He's been trying to find the key to whatever triggers gamma neo mutations, and how to reverse them, so people can, like, look human if they want to. I keep telling him the government's gonna get ahold of that, but he really wants to be 'normal'.” Miranda said, air-quoting the word.

Kira received her milkshake shortly afterward. “Huh. That's actually pretty interesting – and it only works on gamma neo humans?” She took the milkshake, bid a thanks to the waitress, and slurped it. “Oh, by Darkness, that's exquisite–”

“Told ya,” Miranda said. She had to avoid actively biting her lip as she watched Kira's lips and tongue move. “But, uh, yeah, so he says. I mean, it's a dream – and it's still in formula. I really doubt he's nailed it down to be perfect to his ideals.”

“Still, should be a good thing to witness,” Kira replied gently. The waiter showed up moments later, and the ladies placed their orders – a buffalo wrap for Miranda, and a western omelette for Kira. The two of them ate in silence, enjoying their meals. “Okay, this is wonderful.” Kira muttered, her mouth full of egg and ham.

“See? You don't need to go to the Mr. Fancy's Italian Bistro just to get good food.” Miranda laughed. Kira chuckled and slid her hand across the table, igniting a candle between the two of them with a flourish. Miranda locked eyes with Kira and smiled as fondly as she knew how. Across the restaurant from them, a table of four stirred.

“So I meant to ask you,” Kira said, cleaning her mouth delicately. “When do I get to meet the real you?”

Miranda's eyebrow rose and she shivered a bit on the inside. “Wh-what...what do you mean?”

Kira leaned forward, resting her chin on her delicately folded hands. “Seth told me you're a bit of a masochist. Practically a sub born to the purpose.”

Miranda's eyes widened slowly and she blushed instantaneously. “That...motherfucking...” She muttered, looking down at the table. Kira smiled a bit, but otherwise waited with eternal patience for a response. Miranda prodded the table with her finger, whimpering a bit. “Y-yeah, I...guess so...”

“Interesting,” Kira said simply, sitting back upright and sipping a glass of water.

“Inter—interesting what?! Kira! You can't just leave me hanging like that!” Miranda said, pounding the table in mock anger. Kira laughed and spoke softly, letting her words flutter out.

“And why not?”

Miranda's mouth dried up. In seconds, there had been a dynamic change; in mere moments, they had gone from casually dating to possibly establishing power roles. It made Miranda squirm inside; one side of her leaped for joy, ecstatic over being chosen by this gorgeous British goddess, while the other side was a quivering pool of nervousness over the chance to disappoint her.

Kira took Miranda's silence as acceptance. “Exactly. Finish your food, and then we'll go the park or something. Sound good?”

“Y-yes, sure, Kira.” Miranda said quickly. She struggled with something on the inside; Kira had trusted her enough to show her hers, but then again, Kira was only a delta...not so much to worry about. Miranda's fingers closed around the little car in her pocket, and she gulped. It wasn't rejection from Kira Miranda was worried about; surely the girl wasn't prejudiced against her own kind...but it was still the concern of being viewed as abnormal. “Hey, Kira? Can I show you something?”

“We're in a diner, lovely. Later.” Kira said with a snarky grin.

Miranda blushed again. “No, not my – Kira!” She joked, lightly smacking the laughing redhead's arm. “This.” She extracted the car and slid it across the table to Kira. The redhead picked it up in two fingers, inspecting it closely.

“This is some pretty great detail,” Kira said. She leaned in close, inspecting the tiny wires and tubes underneath the car. “Like some seriously great detail. Who made this?”

“It's real,” Miranda said quickly. “I m-mean. It's a real car.”

“You mean, it runs? What is this, a car for ants?” Kira joked.

“I shrunk it,” Miranda said, fumbling with her napkin. “It was mine, but it broke...sentimental value and all that.”

Kira's eyebrow rose. “You shrunk it. You a mad scientist now? 'Cause that's kinda hot.”

Miranda laughed a bit, which broke her tension. “N-no, sorry. I'm...I'm a beta neo. I can shrink inanimate things to a fraction of their size.”

Kira's pretty mouth hung open for a moment, and then she swallowed. “Oh! Well...wow. That's...quite a unique power. Only inanimate things?” Across from them, the party of four left their table rather angrily, pushing a chair in so hard it tipped over.

“Yeah,” Miranda said, nodding. “Watch.” She gently placed her hand on a glass, and it wobbled a bit before shrinking down to a doll-sized minature of itself within seconds. Kira's emerald eyes focused on it, and they glittered at the wonder she'd just seen.

“That's so cool,” Kira breathed, looking back up at Miranda, who beamed. “No, really. That's awesome.”

“Really? I always thought it was kinda lame...” Miranda muttered. Kira shook her head.

“Don't think that! Don't let people put down what you can do. That's really impressive.” Kira reassured her. Miranda smiled ear-to-ear, fumbling with her napkin again, and she awkwardly took a sip of water and placed her car back in its pocket.

“Th-thanks,” Miranda said shyly. Kira smiled her affectionate grin, and Miranda melted a bit. The two girls stood up, their money laying upon the check, and Kira reached for Miranda's hand. Miranda's heart hammered in her chest. She glanced at Kira's delicate fingers, those crimson-painted nails, and gingerly took it, blushing and highly aware of it. Kira thanked the waitress, wished the clerk a good day, and the two of them exited the building.

“We should go there again,” Kira said, glancing at Miranda through her crimson curls. “It was so nice, and I wanted to try a lot more.”

“Definitely,” Miranda said, again beaming at Kira's attention. “Now where'd you park?”

“Somewhere over --” Kira began. She let out a scream as a thrown bottle shattered against her head, throwing the redhead to the ground. Miranda had barely time to respond when a heavy fist slugged her, likewise dropping her onto the concrete. Miranda held out a hand weakly, dazed and hurt, watching a man in a sweater grab Kira's hair and slam her back into the ground. It was the group from the diner, who sat across from them.

“Unbound filth!” The man said, kicking her hard. Kira cried out and coughed, her arms reaching out for anything in her pain. Miranda herself barely registered anything beyond the use of the slur, and was then held up again, this time by a woman with four blue streaks through her hair and piercings. The woman slammed Miranda in the stomach, hit her across the face, and threw her in a heap near Kira.

“Go back to your own kind, cunt. No one wants you here.” The woman spat. Miranda cried out as Kira endured another beating, not just from her, but from another man. She struggled to fight as she watched a fourth man remove a baseball bat from his car. Another fist came down on Miranda's head, bruising her eye, and then a whirlwind of beatings came. The group kicked, punched and swore, beating the two neo humans senseless.

“Fucking hate these mutant freaks,” The man with the bat growled, spitting to the side. He raised the baseball bat over Kira –

BLAM!

A shotgun blast caught the man in the arm, and he screamed as he fell, his arm riddled with buckshot. Miranda looked to the side, willing her aching body to move. Old man Frank was hobbling out of his diner, a shotgun in his hands. He pointed the gun at the injured man.

“Get the fuck off my property,” He growled. The bigots didn't hesitate. One of them helped the shot man to his feet, and they took off. Frank sighed, handing the shotgun to an employee, and took out his phone to call the police and an ambulance. Frank's wife, the clerk, rushed out and put a hand under Miranda's head.

“Oh my gods,” The old woman said. “Are you alright, dear?”

“K-Kira,” Miranda breathed, trying to point to her. “Please...”

But someone was already helping Kira. Miranda's eyes fluttered shut; she barely registered the world around her as people rushed to help her. Kira didn't move; she was still and silent, and Miranda feared the worst as darkness took her.

Miranda's eyes fluttered open; that is to say, one did. Her other one tried to, but its vision was blocked by bloody gauze. She was in a hospital, for sure – white walls, medical equipment all around her. The sunlight shone in through the window, filtered by curtains that gently rippled in the autumn breeze. Miranda glanced around; the room she was in was small, and she was the only one inside. Kira was nowhere to be seen. She tried to move but groaned; it was suddenly and rapidly apparent that her whole body ached. Her normally well-kept hair was pasted to the size of her face, and she winced as her arm moved to remove it.

“Oh, dear, no, it's okay, I'll get it,” A nurse said, scampering over to Miranda. She moved her hair away and began making sure Miranda was okay. “How are you feeling?”

“Ow,” Miranda said wearily. “What...what happened?”

“You and your girlfriend got assaulted, miss,” The nurse said sadly, shaking her head. “Bigots, I imagine. You're a registered beta neo, right?” Miranda nodded numbly, now realizing why she was alone in a single room – confidentiality. “I'm sure the police will want to talk to you about the incident. It might please you to know two of the individuals that attacked you poor girls were apprehended.”

“Yeah, they called us unbound and...goddesses, I thought they were going to kill Kira,” Miranda whimpered. The nurse nodded gravely at the mention of the slur. “I'm glad the cops got a couple of them, at least.”

“The fourth is still at large, but the man that Frank O'Connor shot is here in the hospital,” The nurse said, holding a hand to Miranda's arm upon sensing her anger. “Please don't confront him. Let the police handle it, dear.”

Miranda nodded slowly, letting her anger subside; it ached as it left her. “Is Kira okay?” She asked, glancing up at the nurse with her navy blues. The nurse nodded. Miranda sighed heavily, relief pouring out of her. She settled in the bed, closing her eyes against the pain. The nurse began helping extract her from her bandages, and she moved along with the process. The doctors came in, informing Miranda that she had been lucky; her body, while bruised and battered, wasn't broken. Kira was alright; despite running an insanely high fever, she seemed perfectly fine, albeit a bit bruised. Miranda and Kira were asked to stay another day until their injuries healed up to the best of their ability, and then were to be released.

Kira and Miranda met up that night, one of the nurses bringing Kira in to talk to her. Miranda had whimpered apologetically upon seeing the bruised side of Kira's face, but the redhead had hugged her close and inspected her thoroughly, making sure that Miranda was okay. The nurse left them alone for a couple of hours that night, and though the television was on, neither girl really paid too much attention to it, choosing instead to lose themselves in conversation.

“...and I thought, that's it, that's what I want to do – I want to teach children about us, about neo humanity,” Miranda admitted, looking into Kira's eyes. “I know, being a schoolteacher isn't exactly lucrative, I could get a much better paying job as a geneticist or something...but kids are important. They gotta know it's not okay to – to...”

“Beat up neos in the street, call them Unbound, and threaten to kill them for eating at a diner?” Kira mumbled, playing with her hair in that cute way Miranda loved.

“Yeah, that,” Miranda replied hastily. “You sure you're okay?”

Kira smiled. “Believe it or not, I've been through worse. London is not a forgiving place for deltas. We're neos, but our powers aren't...we really can't use them to defend ourselves. It's not like I can throw candlelight at people.” She nodded slowly. “I'm fine, lovely.”

“Good,” Miranda said. She winced as her bandaged eye hurt her. “I hate those bastards.”

“Don't hate, Miranda,” Kira stated firmly. “It makes them win. If we hate, we'll use our powers to hurt and harm, and then they'll actually have a case against us. We're not gods, we're just...different.”

Miranda nodded and winced again as she reached for a cup of water. She sipped it quietly and focused her eyes back on her redheaded crush. “What do you wanna do, Kira?”

Kira's eyes unfocused, staring off into the darkness of the room, pensive. “I dunno.”

“No idea?” Miranda's curious, slightly disappointed tone made Kira's eyes snap back onto her.

“Geneticist is always appealing; I'm intelligent enough,” She said. “But there are so many. I want to do something real, something that will change the world because I did it, not because I was on a team. I know that sounds selfish, but I – I don't know. I want to matter. I want the world to know the name Kira Northvale, not because she is the daughter of Reginald Northvale or the neice of Cedric Percival Dougherty or the --”

Miranda spat water, leaning forward as she tried to stop herself. Kira's eyes were wide with confusion and surprise. “You're – YOU'RE CEDRIC DOUGHERTY'S NEICE?!” Miranda exclaimed. “The General of the North. London's Thor – he's your uncle.” There was not a man, woman or child who did not know Cedric's name from history, when he campaigned for and eventually led the fight for neo human rights in the Purity Wars.

“Uh, yes,” Kira said, frowning. “But like I said that's not what I want to be --”

“No, no, I understand...I do,” Miranda said, nodding slowly. “But the man – he could call down bloody lightning, Kira, how are you a delta neo...?”

Kira raised and lowered a shoulder. “Bad roll of the dice. You see why I want to make a name for myself. My family eclipses me, and the Northvales...I've got my dad's money, and his estate and his legacy because, wanna know why? There aren't any Northvales left. I use his name so it won't die out. So what's that leave me? The Doughertys, and their endless claims to fame.”

Miranda swallowed hard and touched Kira's arm; the fever was on heavy, Kira was practically burning to the touch. “I'm sorry, Kira. Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah,” Kira said, huffing and settling down. She blinked a few times and sighed. “Sorry.”

“It's fine...please, Kira, it's...it's okay.” Miranda said. Kira looked hurt, vulnerable. Miranda wanted to comfort her, but she also did not want to aggravate the redhead's fever.

“Miranda, I...look, I don't know what you've...what you've been feeling since we started...seeing each other. But I've really enjoyed this. You're wonderful.” Kira said, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. Miranda's heart skipped a beat. Euphoria flooded the ravenette's body and soul. She stared at Kira's gorgeous face; her delicate features, angular jawline, emerald eyes, plush lips. Was now the time? Kira's eyes slowly half-lidded, and the redhead leaned in slowly. Miranda gulped, swallowing hard, and followed Kira's lead.

The girls' lips met, and both melted into the other in different ways. Miranda gushed, leaning forward to accept every drop of Kira's sensual kissing that the redhead would allow her. Her hands trembled as she ran them up the deep curve of Kira's back, and then the little ravenette moaned as Kira's own hands tangled themselves in her hair. Tongues met, tasting each others' lips and mouths in lustful curiosity. Their warm bodies pressed against each other; Miranda could not believe just how warm Kira was. The redhead smiled coyly and bit Miranda's lower lip as the two of them broke the kiss, a single strand of drool connecting the girls' lips.

“H-hnnfngb,” Miranda mumbled. “M-my...my mouth is still...still bleeding. Sorry, K-Kira...”

Kira just licked her lips, a simple motion that made Miranda's legs tremble and her voice catch in her breath like a newly lusting schoolgirl. “Delicious,” The redhead said with a sultry grin. “I'll need to get myself more of that...” Miranda hoped Kira would just tackle her. She yearned to feel the girl tear her neck open with her teeth, and to Irae be damned who caught them. “But not here,” She tapped Miranda on the nose and grinned. Suddenly, her ears perked up, and she snapped her attention to the television. “Miranda! Turn that up!” She requested.

Miranda quickly grabbed the remote nearby and turned up the volume. Kira watched, her eyes wide in concern.

“...agents have found,” The news anchor was saying, standing in front of a charred, destroyed building. Around him, police and government scientists went in and out. “But it has been confirmed that the genetic makeup of Doctor Hasif Nurala, better known as the beta neo vigilante 'Orion', has been found in the ruins of Hotel Siracco.”

Kira's eyes got even wider and she reflexively gripped the bed. Miranda put a hand on her but recoiled; Kira's skin was painfully hot. “K-Kira...your fever...” Kira winced and buckled, but she kept her eyes on the television.

“Doctor Nurala was a renowned pyrokineticist, and disappeared around the time of the blaze,” A gruff military man announced, interviewed by the news anchor. “Sad to say, given his contributions to the world, but we have placed a warrant and a bounty for his arrest concerning the Siracco Incident.”

Kira grabbed the remote from Miranda and turned the television off. Her body trembled; Miranda looked at her, concerned and scared, and upon seeing this, Kira softened instantly. “Oh, I'm so...so sorry,” Kira mumbled, reaching out to Miranda. “Please, don't...don't see me like this.”

“Like what?” Miranda asked quietly, confused. But Kira just stood, kissed Miranda on the cheek, and left, silently crying. Miranda swallowed hard again; what just happened?

Settling into her hospital bed, Miranda closed her eyes. Such a whirlwind of events...but that kiss. That fucking kiss. It had been everything she had ever desired. Kira had worked her way into the darkest corners of Miranda's mind. Everything about the ravenette's soul was pointed at Kira. Worries coated Miranda's thoughts as sleep took her; what if Kira associated Miranda and that kiss with the Incident that likely claimed her father, and everyone she knew in Prescott Heights? No. No, Kira wouldn't...she would be able to see past that, certainly? She wouldn't associate Miranda with such an awful...

Sleep came fast, surprisingly.

Miranda lay in a heap on her mother's couch, defeated by exhaustion, her injuries, and the horrific idea of returning to anything resembling schoolwork. She fumbled for her water bottle, hands exploring as she tried to find it; her head was situated in the cushions rather firmly, and the black-haired beta neo refused to move more than she had to. Finally, her hand felt the smooth plastic, and she gripped its handle, dragging it across the table to her face. She groaned with effort; somehow, day two after the beating felt worse than day one.

Miranda's mother furnished the garage from Spring to Winter, and so, Miranda lay in it, on the couch against the faded wall. Above her, a clock read out that it was sometime in the afternoon – her mom had picked her up in the morning – and she expected Seth soon for their off-hours burger stop. She swore that every time she blinked, the clock skipped ahead another hour.

This must be what dying feels like. That's it, I'm dying. Hell, I should probably tell someone.

The twenty-three-year-old popped her water bottle's straw into her mouth, idly sipping, trying her best to engage the straw without moving at all. Her mother's cat, a long-haired Persian blue, yawned and stretched itself across the floor. Miranda watched, her eyes getting heavier by the moment. Ugh, She thought. Never watch a cat fall asleep.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. Miranda barely registered it, but she fumbled around in her bag anyway, drawing it forth and flipping it open.

Seth:

uii am hjhre.. syrry

Miranda frowned and cocked her head, rolling onto her back and typing a response.

Me:

What? You ok?

Moments later, Seth replied.

Seth:

o u t si ii de.

Miranda groaned with effort and leaned up, grabbing ahold of the back of the couch. She stretched widely, wincing as her body yelled at her in protest, and scooped up her water bottle, shaking it a bit to confirm its contents. The ravenette slid her feet into her flip-flops and opened the side door to the garage, humming a soft tune, and then promptly screamed and nearly through her bottle in shock.

A monster was standing in front of her garage. It was nearly nine feet tall, coated in tarnished metallic scales that glimmered in the autumn sun. Enormous, asymmetrical spines jutted from its neck and down its back, along a sweeping tail that curled along the ground behind it. The creature was slouched forward, making its ridiculous height even more unnerving, and it was corded with muscle. Each powerful arm ended in three claw-tipped fingers, and its mouth was elongated, like an alligator; two uneven horns jutted from the back of its head. Comically, it wore a torn lab coat, and even worse pair of jeans, and clutched a relatively small phone in its hand.

“Naturia,” Miranda swore, staring at the creature as it regarded her with its yellow eyes. “Is...Seth, is that you?”

“Yeah,” The creature mumbled. It sat down in the grass and frowned, prodding the soil with one of its long, dangerous-looking talons. “The cure...didn't work as advertised.” Seth replied in a deep, rumbling voice.

“You tested it on yourself?” Miranda inquired incredulously.

Seth rose and lowered an enormous shoulder. “Scientists always do that. Take Jonas Sulk, for instance. I guess there's a lot more variables than I thought...this isn't...permanent, I don't think. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt a lot.”

“Okay, but this isn't polio, this is the neo genes,” Miranda said cautiously, approaching her transformed best friend. “We know so little about them. You told me your work was barely in formula!” Seth nodded numbly. Miranda calmed herself down; Seth was clearly paying a heavy price already, he did not need to be told what he already knew. She sighed and walked over to the enormous lizard-like being sitting on her parents' lawn. Even sitting, he was nearly as tall as she was.

Miranda winced as she heard a scream from inside her house, followed by the sound of someone dropping what had probably been a flowerpot. “Relax, Mom! Seth just mutated himself further, it's all for science.”

“Science better not damage my goddamn lawn!” Amy Townsworth shrieked. She stuck her head out the front door, her very Miranda-like hair flying about. “Is he going to be like that forever?”

“You're so good at making things not worse, Mum. Love ya.” Miranda said quietly, shaking her head. Amy sighed in a combination of annoyance at Miranda's sarcasm and sympathy for Seth.

“Can I get you anything, Seth? A drink? A...very, very stiff drink?” Amy called out. Seth shifted, barely cracking a toothy smile.

“No, I'm ok. Thanks, Amy,” Seth grumbled. The older woman nodded, gave the creature one last apprehensive look, and slid back into her house. Miranda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and glanced at Seth again.

“I notice your stutter is gone,” Miranda said, trying to keep it positive. “So that's a thing.”

“I'd rather stutter and not be a baby Godzilla, I think,” Seth mumbled in his deep voice. Miranda laughed, and Seth cracked a real grin. “Dr. Cole is emailing me his notes, since I...I don't really fit through doors very well right now, and I don't need to be scaring people.”

“Cole's a great dude,” Miranda said, putting a hand on Seth's shoulder. “Come on, man. I'm paying for your burger today.” Seth rose to his full height, and Miranda instinctively backed up, a sympathetic, apologetic look on her face when she realized that she did. Seth scratched one of the spines jutting from his back.

“I don't think they're gonna want me in the store, Manda,” Seth said, frowning.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Then we eat outside. Come on.” She tugged on Seth's lab coat, and the two of them walked down the street, talking about anything other than Seth's condition, school, or work. Amy watched from her window with a sense of pride; Quentin Townsworth would have been proud to see his daughter be so instrumental in the life of someone else.

*** *** ***

There was nothing truly extraordinary about a hair dryer. They had appeared in their modern, handheld form around 1920, having been originally designed in 1890 by Alexander Godefroy, in France. Though this model was a bit more advanced, being the latest from a big-name beauty salon, it nevertheless functioned the same, was based upon the same principles, and therefore was not special or unusual in any way...except, perhaps, that it could be used to dry the hair of a doll.

It lay on a table, a piece of furniture so vast in comparison to it that if it were not being directly observed, one was likely to lose it. It was a fraction of the size of a proper hair dryer, but it worked – tiny circuits and all, or at least, it would if there was a suitably tiny outlet. It would snugly fit in the hand of a six-inch-tall doll, or an action figure, but it was no plastic duplicate – it was a real, functional piece of technology.

Two hands came up onto the table; human hands. They slid forward gently, and lithe, pale index fingers gently, timidly pinched the tiny hair dryer between two blood-red nails, with all the patience of a hunter stalking prey. A twist of crimson hair came up next, and then a single inquisitive, respectively enormous emerald iris. It studied the little hair dryer, curious beyond reason, and slowly the monstrous nails set the dryer down, and Kira Northvale rose to her full height, setting her wide hip onto the table and scribbling in a notepad.

“Subject Six-Five has been reduced to a twelfth of its original size. Again, no sign of wear, fatigue or any sort of negative response has been noticed in the body or mind of the neo human in question,” Kira said to herself as she wrote. “Laboratory equipment recommended to discover if cancer cells or other invisible dangers are caused by use of these powers.”

Kira slid her bottom back onto the table, arching her back. She wore a simple outfit today, but knowledge and power got her hot. She imagined how she might look to an outsider; curvacious, in her element, beautiful. Miranda would be lost; goddesses, she'd love it. These thoughts danced around in her mind, bringing an internal warmth to the redhead that was far different than what she'd had to get used to in the last couple months.

“Subjects Six-One through Six-Five have demonstrated full control over documented Neo Ability Six as stated by its originator. Ability Six can shrink inanimate objects up to a twelfth of their original size. Whether the limit of a twelfth is, in fact, part of Six's Amplification or Miranda's limit as well is yet to be seen,” Kira noted, talking away. “Objects built into a cohesive whole shrink as one. Though larger objects have not been tested, it is known that the originator has shrunk a car; it reasons to think I could as well.”

Kira's lips curled into a smirk as she flipped the page over and continued scribbling in her elegant font. “Subject Six-Six will be the first proper Amplification test,” The glorious redhead twirled around, her hair following suit, and she clicked her heels on the wood of her estate, deliberately swinging her hips arrogantly as she strutted down a hallway. “Nurala! Hasif, where are you?” She called out.

After a few moments of checking the various rooms of her spacious mansion, she found Hasif cleaning shelves in one of the estate's reading suites, and when his eyes met Kira's, the middle-eastern man dropped the rag he was carrying and seemed to melt under her gaze. He stumbled forward, falling to his hands and knees; Kira watched his progress with an amused smirk as he crawled his way to her, faintly grasping her leather boots. His breath was heavy, and he looked up at the towering redhead through exhausted eyes.

“G-Goddess,” Hasif choked. “What i-is...this...sorcery?”

“Do you remember when we met, Hasif? You saw me at a bar, playing the piano. What was I wearing?” Kira asked, pouring herself a glass of brandy that was sitting on a nearby desk. Hasif reached out for her presence, but failing to receive it, collapsed against a wall, shivering as though half-buried in ice.

“D-Dress,” Orion stuttered. “Red...red dress. Color of your hair. B-Black...black, opaque...stockings. Sultriest thing I've...I've ever...”

“Relax, Mr. Nurala,” Kira cooed. “Please continue.”

“Red h-hair, shiny. Eyes, so...so, so green. Pale b-beauty in...in its finest. Bought you a drink...” Hasif mumbled. Kira slid open the cabinet, inspecting her father's collection of horse riding crops. She turned one over in her hand, admiring the grip and the make, and slid the end under Hasif's chin, pointing his tired gaze up at the overpowering redhead.

“Indeed you did,” Kira practically moaned. “You then said I was enchanting, beautiful, glorious and powerful, that I could handle a fiery passion. I was entranced. How could I not be? You are Orion...world-famous, powerful, immortal. An alpha neo, one of the very few.” Despite his broken condition, Orion swelled with pride, briefly remembering himself before slipping back into his stupor. “You took me with you, and then you took me,” Kira said, baring her teeth at the thrill of the memory. “I bit you.”

“Y-yes. Drew blood. Used m-me...to stifle a scream.” Hasif mumbled, collapsing further against the wall.

Kira finished the brandy and sighed, drumming her fingers on the desk. She poured another serving. “Two days later, my latest powers manifest. The hotel I am watching my father speak in violently explodes. The fire burns hotter than the sun and incinerates the town. Hundreds dead, my father included,” Kira said, gripping the glass. The brandy hissed and bubbled as it boiled in her hand. Orion's eyes slowly widened, watching the girl's anger build. “And then last night, I hear the FBI discovered your DNA in Hotel Siracco. But you weren't there. I was.”

A paper on Kira's desk caught fire, curling inward. Kira's clothing remained untouched, but around her, the carpet singed, the desk charred and Orion backed away from the infernal heat raging from her.

“YOU DID THIS TO ME!” Kira screamed at him, nearly hysterical. She threw the glass of boiling brandy against the wall; it shattered into pieces. “I remember your fucking words, Nurala – 'I'm going to give my fire to you' – well, you did. Congratu-fucking-lations. It was there when you left, and when it...when I...Amplified it...you killed my father and everyone I'd ever met in this goddamn country.”

“Goddess,” Nurala said, sweating from the heat, bowing to Kira. “Please f-forgive--”

“The fucked-up thing is, you made me realize what was going on – you made me finally get it. I'd theorized, but how exactly do I test something like this...?” Kira said, more to herself than Hasif. “Miranda confirmed it. That's how this all works...”

“Goddess?” Orion asked cautiously.

“Shh, shh. I'm going to explain everything...but we need to give you a new name. Nurala, pay attention.” Kira whispered. Nurala felt cold again; weak, dizzy. He stared up at Kira, seeing this enchanting redhead, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Distant sounds, like drops in a forest through a wall, echoed in his ears; the scent of campfires, of desert nights, and of lilies sifted through his nose. All in the world was Kira, and Kira was all there was. “You are Subject Six-Six.”

“I am Subject Six-Six, my Goddess Kira,” Orion mumbled, lost.

Kira placed a searing hot palm on Hasif's chest, and the man did not scream. Tears leaked from his eyes, and his mouth opened as though to scream, but no sound came out. There was no time to. In the time it took for light to travel a second, Hasif Nurala was changed, shrunken down to a twelfth of his original size. Kira's green eyes widened; her breath caught in her chest. She slowly pulled out the notepad, trembling as its edges burned dangerously. She concentrated on calming herself down, maintaining her literal cool.

“Subject Six-Six,” Kira breathed, staring down at the horrified, tiny man. “Amplification test...successful. Amplification...forces powers to work on living subjects. Humans, even alpha-level neo humans, included...” A barely audible, terrified voice touched Kira's ears, and the redhead grinned down at Hasif Nurala. “Oh, Mister Orion! It worked. That is, my theory was correct!”

Kira squatted down, observing the little man as he screamed and cried, begging inaudibly for mercy. Kira poked him with one of her long fingers, and he stumbled backwards, causing a laugh from the enormous redhead. Kira's hand reached out for him, and though he screamed and pleaded, she caught him in her grip and stood up, leaning against the desk. Slowly, she turned her hands and dropped him into one another, tossing him between her fingers and rolling him around in her palm.

“Further...testing...is required,” Kira moaned, biting her lip excitedly. Whatever this was, it spoke deeply to the dominant girl. “Limits...need to be tested. Loose ends...need to be tied up.”

“Goddess Kira! P-Please!” Hasif groaned, his body fully exhausted as she rolled him around. He was closing his eyes, gritting his teeth; the fire would come at any moment.

“You once asked me,” Kira began huskily, letting her tongue slide across her lips. “Why...why I was interested in an old man. Let me tell you something, Hasif – I am interested in two things in people, two things...unfamiliar power, and complete submission – willing submission,” Kira breathed, her hot breath practically scalding the little man. “You now fit in neither category.” Kira slowly unbuttoned her jeans, grinning widely as she slid them down her ample hips. Nurala's breath caught in his chest and he stumbled backwards.

“Sorry,” Kira said, her teeth bared, her expression as far from apology as possible, “But this is REALLY hot,” She dumped Hasif onto the floor, giggling maliciously as he lay there, broken. “Subject Six-Six is not invulnerable. Falls from the height of a normal person's grip results in severe injury.”

Orion rose his hands, and desperately, he tried to call his flames to him – and so, they sprung to life. His eyes widened; how had he done that? He'd lost his powers when Kira had taken...no, she hadn't taken them, she'd copied...but...he remembered! He remembered the knowledge that she'd taken them away...but now, that memory was fading like a dream in the light of reality. As he stared at the fires in his hands, he was barely aware of Kira's long fingers slipping between her legs, under her silky panties, and of her enormous, pale, wrinkled sole rising from its leather prison, dripping with sweat and vicious intent.

“You're confused,” Kira growled, gasping as her finger slipped into her waiting cunt. “Allow me to explain. My first power is pheromones. It's to your credit that you weren't a gibbering wreck every time you saw me. You fall for my spell, I can make you believe anything.” Kira moaned, closing her eyes to her masturbation. With a savage grin, Kira brought her foot down, shattering Hasif's legs as he tried to dive for cover. Animal shrieks reached Kira's ears, and she felt her fingers get overwhelmed by her own juices.

“You know, if you stayed the fuck still, you'd only be DEAD, not tortured!” Kira snarled. She gasped, leaning forward and rolling the ball of her foot over Orion. She placed all her weight there, arching her foot upward, and crushed the little man into the carpet of the reading suite. His death scream echoed in Kira's ears, his little body shattering under her prodigious weight. Her eyes snapped open, green and fiery, and her fingers plunged in to the knuckle. Kira cried out, arching and sliding against the wall, wriggling her toes in the bloody mess as she came, hard, hot, and fast.

It took her a full minute to come down. She extracted her finger, watching in half-lidded mirth as the juices on her finger evaporated to the flame within her. She gulped, smoothing out her shirt, and picked up the notepad, trembling. “Subject Six-Six...” She began, panting. “Terminated...upon successful...experiment. More...gods...more subjects required for further testing.”

“Is this the right place?” Rebecca asked. She rose an eyebrow at the black steel gate, its polished bars capped with a crest – a large pyramid with a golden N on the front. Flanked by ivy-covered bricks, the gate was imposing to say the least. Pavement led deep into the forest, presumably up the hill. Miranda glanced at the text Kira had sent – 1303 Newman Drive. To the right of the gate, a golden 1303 hung, the ivy threatening to cover it as well. Miranda shrugged.

“Yeah...that's what the text says,” Miranda said, frowning. She got out of the car and approached the gate, tilting her head curiously at an intercom set into the brick nearby. The ravenette pressed her finger to the green button. “Kira? You there?”

Moments later, there was a faint crackling, followed by Kira's voice. “Oh, you're here! Marvelous. Hold on a second, okay?” Miranda got back in the car, and slowly, the gate creaked open. Rebecca drove forward, careful to slip within the bounds of the gate, and headed up the pavement. It curled around the hill, the setting sun obscured by trees whose canopies cast vast shadows upon them. Here and there, a lamppost illuminated the shadows, and after a few minutes of slow travel, Miranda's jaw dropped. The Northvale estate sat on the top of the hill, imposing and ancient. It was the very archetype of a mansion, three stories tall with balconies, windows and beautiful exterior furnishings. It seemed to be made entirely of brick and stone, and the front courtyard alone was a bountiful garden of colors and fountains. Rebecca stopped the car at the zenith of the driveway, letting Miranda out and driving back down the hill. Miranda bit her lip timorously as she tiptoed up the brick walkway, stepping between two enormous columns that had been carved to represent mighty figures holding up slabs of marble. She held out a hand and used the knocker to pound on the door.

The door slowly creaked open, and soon was pulled back by Kira. The redhead smiled at her visitor; she was dressed simply, far more casual than she was when she was out, and fought to slip the sleeves of her hoodie down over her wrists – an act that Miranda felt was adorable in and of itself. “Hello! I'm so glad you're here. Come in, please?” She stepped back and allowed Miranda to enter the foyer.

With a heavy thud, Kira closed the door and swept Miranda into a tight hug. Miranda blushed hard and returned the embrace, cradling the curvacious redhead the best she could. Kira smiled as they broke away, and wrung her fingers. “I hope this place wasn't too hard to find. Though, I guess there's not much left in Prescott Heights...”

Miranda shook her head. “Nah, it's...the gate was a bit difficult to notice, but...I saw the buzzer. This is practically a castle! You live here alone?!” She exclaimed. Kira raised and lowered a shoulder.

“There's me, and my dog, and Lilith, who stalks around...I used to have a butler, my dad's, but I sent him away when...I inherited the house. So yeah, it's just me and the ghosts.” Kira replied. “You want some food, or something to drink? Is it five-o-clock yet? Do we care?” The British girl stepped through the center door, Miranda on her heels; the ravenette tried still to keep everything in view as she walked. Gorgeous chandeliers hung above; masterfully done paintings decorated the walls. Here and there were crystals and carvings, all things she assumed Kira's father had collected. The kitchen was all marble countertops and polished wood; a full bar was set up against the far wall, and the pantry took up one of the other walls entirely. Glass windows overlooked the outside pool. Kira stepped behind the bar and reached up, pulling two glasses from the rack above her.

Miranda sat on one of the bar stools and idly played with a tiny sword that had been driven through an olive. It was like one of the plastic ones that was often used to garnish drinks, but was real, with a miniscule leather hilt and a tiny sharp steel blade. “Nice collection,” She said, eyeing Kira's liquor choices. The redhead smirked impishly and blew a strand of crimson out of her face. “I'm more of a rum girl myself,” Kira smiled and reached over, setting a massive bottle of Bacardi Superior before Miranda on the table. Miranda huffed and checked her watch. “Twist my arm, why don't you...”

Kira giggled and mixed Miranda a mojito, tossing in mint and sliding it to her. “My favorite drink. You can barely taste the rum, so you have a bunch of 'em and it just knocks you on your ass. Takes me a whole lot to get drunk, though. How's your tolerance?”

Miranda sipped the drink, moaning softly at its perfection, and then snorted into it at Kira's question. “I'm basically a kitten.” Miranda confessed sheepishly. Kira grinned her goddess-like smile again.

“Adorable,” She said. “I wish I were a lightweight! I go through so many damned drinks trying to get properly tanked...haven't been really drunk in several years,” As she talked, a faint clinking of glasses could be heard, and an all-black cat with eyes as green as Kira's leaped onto the counter with a tiny meow. Miranda held out her hand affectionately, and Lilith nuzzled it. “Oh, she likes you. Rare...she usually hates anyone but me. Good thing you're not a man – those are her least favorite kinds of people.”

Miranda scooped Lilith into her arms and allowed the cat to find its most comfortable position. “So what do you wanna do tonight? The Prescott Heights theater survived the blaze, yeah? We could catch a movie...”

Kira shrugged, mixing herself a drink. “I would prefer to stay in, if that's all well with you? Plenty to do here...I've got a huge movie collection if you're really itching for it.”

“I dunno, I was just suggesting things,” Miranda said. She held up the bag she was carrying and smiled. “I brought my bathing suit like you asked. Bit cold for swimming, isn't it? Being autumn and all...”

Kira shrugged. “Cold doesn't bother me. But my house doesn't only have an outside pool, y'know,” Kira said mischievously. “Come here.” She went around the bar, took Miranda's hand, and led the ravenette out of the kitchen.

“You have an inside pool. Kira, this isn't a house, it's a hotel.”

Kira laughed and led Miranda to the opposite end of the house, down a curved wooden staircase that descended into the hill itself. The stairwell led into a stone basement, furnished and beautiful. Another bar was here, less stocked than the one upstairs, and there were several side rooms with sliding wooden doors for changing, but the real attraction was the deep pool set into the rock below. Two tiers of stone curved around it, and the stairs that connected these tiers went into the pool itself. A waterfall flowed from a higher pool, smaller; Miranda assumed it was a jacuzzi. She stood there, amazed at the beauty of this cave, and barely registered Kira beginning to pull her hoodie off.

“Go change, lovely. I'll be here,” Kira said, smiling. Miranda blushed, nodded, and scampered off to one of the side rooms. Miranda had purposefully chosen her favorite bikini – she wanted to look her best and hopefully impress Kira – and so wore a black suit that contrasted her pale skin and complimented the midnight curls of her hair. It hugged her hips and pressed up her chest, and she couldn't help but feel sexy. When she exited the room, those feelings melted away as she beheld Kira. The redhead wore a similar outfit, black and red, and her half-naked body was more gloriously curved than anything Miranda had ever expected, even with those dresses of hers.

“Someone likes what they see,” Kira cooed, glancing at Miranda's dumbstruck form. She stood up and walked – strutted, really – over to Miranda, drink in hand. “It's alright. You are equally given my approval.”

“You...you like?” Miranda asked hopefully. Kira kissed her. Miranda's body melted on command; Kira's hot breath washed over Miranda's lips and tongue, spicy and fiery. The redhead grinned ferociously and took Miranda's hand.

“Fuck yeah,” She said softly. “Come on. I wanna see you wet. Multiple meanings implied.” She grinned that infectious smirk again and twirled on her heel, leading the blushing ravenette towards the jacuzzi. Up the stone steps they went, the rippling of the waterfall echoing off the cavern's walls. Cold, damp stone met Miranda's feet, and as she glanced down, her vision met Kira's. Curved, with deep arches, painted toenails...this girl was so fucking beautiful, Miranda wanted her feet alone. She salivated, imagining Kira as her owner.

The redhead turned away from the jacuzzi, turning on its bubbles and then slipping into its steaming surface. She sighed contently, closing her eyes and relaxing. When she opened them again, she saw Miranda standing there, lost for words as water and steam accentuated Kira in all the best ways possible.

“Coming in, darling?” Kira asked. “Please say yes.”

“U-uh, I...y-yes, Godd—fuck. Yes Kira.” She blushed and stepped into the jacuzzi; it was a bit too hot for her, but she grit her teeth and slid onto her butt, sitting on the surprisingly comfortable stone. Kira settled into the bubbles, her deep red hair becoming even darker as it was soaked.

“This is my favorite thing to do ever,” Kira basically moaned. “I've been wanting to get you in here for weeks.”

Miranda's eyes lit up and she bit her lip in anticipation, in euphoric eagerness. “W-why?”

Kira's emerald irises settled on the black-haired sub, and she slid forward, her slippery, wet chest threatening to slide out of the tight confines of her bikini top. “Because I knew you'd be fucking hot while soaked, but if I knew you'd be this hot, I might have kidnapped you.”

“K-Kira...” Miranda whimpered, blatantly staring at her chest. Kira slid a finger underneath the girl's jaw and tilted it upward, tsking softly at the girl. Miranda's breath caught inside her at the sound, the playful disapproval. How did this girl manage to press all the right buttons at once?

“Naughty girl. My eyes are up here...aren't they good enough?” Kira breathed. Hot, steamy breath washed across Miranda's face, and the scent of who she hoped would become her dominatrix flooded the girl's mind. Miranda sputtered a response, locking her eyes onto Kira's, and moaned loudly as the redhead straddled her in the jacuzzi. Water raced down the girl's curvacious body, and she slid her hands into Miranda's black hair with a savage grin.

“Kiss me,” Kira commanded. Miranda didn't need a moment. She grabbed Kira's face and brought her down to her, kissing her for all she was worth. Their tongues slid against each other, soft and gentle turning to rough and eager. Miranda's delicate hands traced up Kira's deep back; the redhead's fingers massaged Miranda's scalp and neck, searching for her most sensitive nerves there and eliciting moans from the little ravenette. Kira grinded on her, the water sliding against and between them, and Miranda was in heaven, lost to anything that was not Kira. Nearly five minutes later, the girls parted, strands of drool linking their plump lips. Kira slid her hand into Miranda's hair, tilting the girl's head to the side and nibbling her ear. Miranda nearly screamed.

“Shower, pet. Now. We need more space,” Kira moaned quietly. Miranda nodded, lost for words at her excitement. Kira stood, the water dripping down her perfect ass and toned legs in a way that made Miranda gush, and she held out her hand. “Follow me.”

Miranda took her hand obediently, and gulped. It was coming true – every last goddamn wish.

This is it, Miranda thought, her hand clasped in Kira's as the bikini-clad redhead made her way up the steps, dripping water onto polished stone. This is how I die - of pure fucking happiness.

Kira's hand was hot to the touch, as fiery as her personality. Miranda briefly thought it odd; this was not normal heat, not a usual human warmth - it almost hurt. But all thoughts drifted away, as they were wont to do around the redheaded girl, replaced instead by soft whispers of promised ecstasy beyond the dreams of an average soul.

The second floor of the Northvale estate was as elegant as the first; charming, grandiose and furnished. They passed two heavy wooden doors and an expensive painting, passed under another candle-lit chandelier, and moved with purpose across stone tiles to their destination. The magnificently carved oaken door greeted Miranda, its intricately designed surface almost as inviting as its owner. Miranda felt drawn to the door, as though she'd seen it in her dreams and it played at the edge of her subconscious, half remembered. What was before it didn't matter, but what was behind it was perhaps the most tantalizing thing she'd ever been exposed to. It was beyond curiosity, it was a visceral need.

"Take me in," Miranda moaned, gripping Kira's burning hand tightly. "Please, my Kira."

"So eager, little dove," Kira purred, laying her soft, crimson lips upon Miranda's again. An explosion of euphoria lit Miranda up, driving her with divine purpose to an otherwise unreachable high. The kiss broke, and Kira turned the door open to let her guest in.

*** *** ***

Jim Cromwell opened his eyes blearily. Where the hell was he? It was as dark as night around him, and with an icy jolt he realized he was bound, wrists and ankles, as well as gagged with a piece of cloth. If he had been knocked out, and taken prisoner by some psycho...surely, they had taken Christy, Bruce and Phil as well. Being homeless in Luxsey was not easy, so the four of them always stuck together for safety. All Jim knew was that he couldn't move, he couldn't speak, and where he or his captor was, he had no idea. He briefly struggled against the restraints, wriggling against the damp piece of stone he was attached to. As he fought, he brushed against it, and grimaced at the taste. Ugh, tastes like soap, He thought.

Christy Seoni considered herself a reasonable woman. She'd been through a lot in her life. But being stuck in a glass prison was something new. All she had to go on was that the walls were transparent and cold, her wrists were bound by rope, and her mouth was likewise gagged. She threw her weight against the walls, and let out a muffled scream when the whole room shook and trembled. Backing up, she sat in the center of her prison and tried not to cry.

Bruce Ardsley didn't have much to go on. He could see Phil, his boyfriend, nearby, but he couldn't move; his whole body was adhered to a surface, held fast by a sticky, unyielding, tacky substance. Phil was maybe twenty feet away and unconscious, above him - above him?

It was then that Bruce realized he was vertical. He was stuck to a monolithic white wall, the ceilings and floors invisible, hundreds of feet away in either direction. Kicking wildly, he fought and groaned into his gag, petrified. He trembled, trying to rationalize himself into dislocating his shoulders to escape, when what sounded like the opening of a door, amplified a hundred times, echoed against the walls and was immediately followed by an inhumanly loud, feminine giggle that made his hairs stand on end...

*** *** ***

Jaw-dropping was an inadequate term; truth be told, there was no adequate term for Kira's master bathroom. The shower took up the majority of it, a twelve-foot high marble chamber with two glass doors, one on each side. Opposite the door they had came through was a crackling fireplace, and a sunroof let light into the shower. The shower itself had multiple ledges on the walls, and it had two shower heads, one with an exceptionally long cord. Kira smiled at Miranda's awestruck face and stepped before her.

"Manda," Kira asked quietly. "Can I perhaps interest you in something more enticing than my master bath?" She undid the laces of her bikini top, exposing perfect breasts to the cold air. Miranda stopped mid-expression and allowed herself a blatant gawk. There could be no way this girl was this pretty.

Kira grabbed Miranda's hand and pulled the ravenette forward, kissing her firmly, with more intent than before. She brought Miranda's hands down to her ample hips and wiggled in place, letting her crush move to an unseen rhythm. Kira's hand reached out and turned on the water, and she moaned as steam began filling the room.

"Fuck I love water," Kira said softly, grinning as Miranda fumbled with her bikini bottom, the ravenette's trembling hands a liability. "It's so sexy." Miranda finally succeeded in her task, and finally, Kira stood before her in all her glory, wearing only a peridot pendant on a silver chain.

"Let's get you in it, then..." Miranda purred, trying out a burst of confidence. Kira apparently loved it, lunging for the submissive girl and practically tearing her clothes asunder. Soon, both girls were naked, their glorious bodies glistening in the steam, and they embraced, kissing and gripping onto each other as though it was their last night to live.

Kira opened the shower door, and held it for Miranda. The ravenette entered, stepping onto warm marble between the two gushing shower heads. Thick clouds of steam obscured the walls, and Kira stepped in, grinning her Aphrodite grin. Miranda reached for one of the streams with intent to seduce Kira with her wet body, but recoiled at the temperature.

"Ow! Too hot. Kira, that's like boiling."

Kira gave her lover a grin and slipped under the stream, the scalding water soaking her body and running down its curvaceous perfection in steaming rivulets. Her dark red hair became even more so, her nipples hardened, and again Miranda was lost in her crush's beauty.

Kira suddenly grabbed Miranda's wrist and tugged hard, forcing the frightened girl into the scalding water. Miranda gasped and bit her lip to brace herself, but there was no pain. She felt immense heat, but for some reason, it didn't hurt. She stared at Kira in awe, but the devious redhead was already wrapping the long shower head cord around Miranda's neck, waist, wrists and ankles. Miranda felt herself become a whole different sort of wet as Kira bound her. Grinning that insufferable grin again, Kira reached over and tightly blindfolded Miranda with a hot washcloth.

Leaning against the wall, Miranda positioned herself so that Kira had full access to her. She was barely able to move, blindfolded, and trembling in wanton lust. Kira moaned in Miranda's ear, a sound that alone made the sub squirm delightfully.

"You need to be cleaned," Kira whispered. She grinned hungrily and reached for the soap...

*** *** ***

Jim wanted to shout in fear as his whole world shook, but the gag stopped him. He blinked as hot steam and bright illumination greeted his senses, but it was the next sight that made his eyes widen.

He was looking up at the breasts and face of an impossibly gorgeous redhead, hundreds of feet above him. Judging by the position of her arm, whatever he was adhered to was in the palm of the titan's hand. Steaming hot water ran down the girl's body, Jim craned his neck to see who the colossal redhead was talking to, and was immediately greeted by sudden vertigo and then a mouthful of warm, drenched skin.

He groaned into his gag as scalding water met him, and as his prison was rubbed up and down the contours of another enormous girl, Jim realized the truth - he was barely four inches tall, tied to a bar of soap. The redhead ribbed the soap all over the other girl, causing moans and purrs. Jim tried to keep his head afloat, tried to ignore the heat and humiliation, and screamed anew as the other girl's thighs enveloped him. Her body trembled and thick stands of cum dripped onto the tiny prisoner. With a sudden jolt, Jim was dropped onto the marble floor. He watched from below as the two girls kissed, the redhead teasing the lips of a bound, blindfolded brunette. Jim's curiosity and lust turned into bloodcurdling terror as the redhead looked down, winked, and crushed him into the bar mercilessly with her sole. Her plump, pretty toes annihilated the man, and she wiped him away on the floor.

*** *** ***

Kira was humming with delight; the first toy person had been used, tormented, and crushed without Miranda noticing. The sadistic redhead eyed the girl in the jar and the two men taped to the walls, and her lips curled into a fierce grin. Reaching for the jar, Kira carefully extracted the girl and slid her against her skin. The girl shrieked into her gag, from fear and disbelief as well as the raw temperature of lustful Kira's skin. Miranda squirmed, her body still bound, and she felt Kira's hot breath on her.

"M-my mistress? What's going on?" She asked. Kira giggled and grunted pleasuribly.

"Using a sex toy on me while I finger and lick you." Kira replied playfully. Miranda blushed, and with a loud moan, Kira forced tiny Christy into her boiling hot pussy. She shoved the girl all the way in with a finger, dropped to her knees in ecstasy, and gave Miranda one long lick.

Kira moaned at the taste; Miranda screamed loudly as her fantasies came true, and inside Kira, a poor, six-inch woman boiled to death for the fleeting pleasure of Kira Northvale. She struggled fruitlessly against Kira’s body, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to scream. Kira’s internal temperatures tortured her even more than the girl’s convulsing muscles did, and the combination made for a truly hellish experience. Kira wriggled her hips, swaying in place as she licked and sucked on Miranda’s clit, enjoying the way the ravenette squirmed on her tongue and screamed her little heart out. Unable to endure any more waiting, Kira forced two fingers inside Miranda, and the submissive girl shrieked as pleasure and fire lanced through her.

“K-KIRA!” Miranda screamed, unable to tell if it hurt or not. The hottest thing she’d ever experienced, in multiple ways, was deep within her, and her body responded by gushing all over Kira’s lithe hand. “I-I...I c-can’t…”

Kira breathed hot against Miranda’s body, making the pale ravenette squirm again. “Who said you had to resist?” And with those words, Miranda came hard, screaming and writhing on her Mistress’s fingers. Kira extracted her hand, cleaning it with her long tongue, and smirked as Miranda collapsed onto the shower floor. Kira gripped a handful of Miranda’s hair and forced the moaning girl against her curvaceous body, grinning as Miranda started to lick her scalding skin. “My turn, little one,” She cooed. She swayed in place, gave the captives taped to the wall a grin, and squeezed her legs together, annihilating Christy inside her.

Kira pivoted, her soaking red hair trailing behind her, and leaned against the wall, laughing as muffled screams met her body. Arching against the damp walls, she smothered Phil Ardsley with just one of her breasts. Miranda administered kisses and licks to her lover’s smooth body, practically drooling with the effort. Every curve and contour of Kira’s body was perfect, deliriously gorgeous, proportioned as though she were carved from marble. Kira wriggled against the wall, her sensitive body taken to lusts for Miranda and her gorgeous mouth. Underneath her breast, Phil was crushed slowly, mashed into the wall by the whims of a writhing Goddess. Bruce struggled fiercely, calling for his brother through his gag, trying desperately to find a way to combat the pale goddess that killed him for her pleasure, as part of her cruel games. He looked down, trying to gain the attention of the blindfolded maiden, but it served to no avail.

Kira grit her teeth and pressed against the wall hard, Miranda’s tongue driving her closer and closer to a primal reaction. Her pressed-up chest made short work of Phil, ending him entirely, and she smiled, grinding him to paste against the wall and washing him away. Taking no time to spare, Kira pivoted in place and guided Miranda’s tongue against her, taking the chance this time to smother Bruce with her round, glistening ass. Bruce gave out a cry as it came towards him, and though Miranda’s ears perked up, Kira grabbed her hair and forced her tongue in, screaming out loud as the combination of her submissive’s tongue and of her sexual games crushing a helpless man under her ass flung her over the edge of orgasm. Her body trembled; her nails dug into Miranda’s skin, and she screamed her heart out as she came hot juices all over Miranda’s face.

Quickly extracting Christy and squeezing, she washed the blood away, leaned down, and removed Miranda’s blindfold. The ravenette stared at her in awe, her eyes wide and lustful, and the two girls kissed in the embrace of the water, unable to feel pain, unable to feel anything but each other and the stream.

Kira hugged Miranda against her breast, which the ravenette kissed delicately. It was the beginning of a new era for them all.

Miranda Townsworth sat on a park bench, idly sipping a mocha latte purchased from Merriwinter University's cafe. She tried to concentrate on the textbook she needed to be reading, but her mind belonged to Kira, and the warmth of the water she'd been fucked in. The experience bore itself into her mind, occupying her thoughts on some level at all times. The redheaded dominatrix had proven herself every bit as talented as she was sexy, which, naturally, only furthered to enhance her sexiness. It was a vicious cycle that ran circles around Miranda, driving the poor ravenette to the conclusion that she could simply give up on her doctorate and go be Kira's concubine forever.

Dead, crispy leaves of various colors rained down on Miranda during the crisp November day. She ignored the urgings of some pigeons, who desperately wanted the remains of the bagel she'd neglected, and tried to focus her attention on the book's content. Something about a study on national origin affecting the chance of the neo gene being present in a child...she couldn't really make it out. Sighing, she shook her head free again of the omnipresent thoughts of soaked red hair and slippery pale flesh, and had almost fully concentrated again when a dull thudding noise woke her from her stupor. Seth was walking down the path, looking every part the monster he did before, walking slowly down a bike path that was clearly not made for gamma neo humans. Slumping forward as his new form forced him to, he pocketed a humorously small black journal and grinned an asymmetrical, toothy smile at his friend.

“Well, well,” Seth grumbled in his deep, nigh-demonic voice. “You're still in afterglow.”

Miranda blushed and closed her book, craning her neck to meet the reptilian goliath in the eye. “I—you don't know what she's like, Seth,” Miranda said, playing with her hair. “I've yet to think of a word or phrase that would accurately portray it. Poetry would not do it justice. Literally indescribable.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” Seth said. He sat down on the opposite end of the bench, making the whole thing creak rather strenuously under his weight. “I expected her to fuck like a demon, but. How does she treat you?”

“Oh, perfect. The right combination of flirty, silly, and caring. She's ideal...I'm smitten, what can I say,” Miranda said, rolling her eyes at her own childish inhibitions. She was giddy as a schoolgirl. “It's so weird. After Tiffany, and fuckin' Jezebelle, you think I'd be less eager to throw my heart at somebody.”

“You did promise me you'd go slow with this one, but it sounds like you're already in love. If you didn't ask me down here to confess a problem, what is it? I could be more easily accessed from my computer...I don't...really like to...go out, right now,” Seth mumbled. Miranda bit her lip in apology.

“Because, I was hoping to give you these,” Miranda said, pulling out several photos, far less explicit than the ones she chose to keep for herself, and showing them to Seth. “See the peridot necklace? I know I've seen that before, somewhere, and Kira has it. Could I bribe you to look it up for me, see what you could find? It looks really old, and I'd like to replace the chain for her for Christmas, if I could.”

“Uh, sure,” Seth said, taking the pictures and clumsily stuffing them into the pocket of his stretched-out, torn coat. The coat further tore on one of his spines and he cursed. “I could do that. Dunno what you're expecting, but, sure. Got something to ask you, as well. Might be hard to imagine, but I'm trying to reverse, uh,” Seth grimaced and gestured to his body. “This...”

Miranda cocked her head in mock confusion. “What! Really? I thought you liked looking like fucking Diablo.”

Seth laughed, a low, rumbling sound at his size. “I need to be absolutely certain of the formula this time, so if you could stop by the lab some point either tomorrow or the day after, I could take a blood sample from you and run some tests on other neo genes.”

“Oh, sure, yeah, no problem.” Miranda nodded. Seth grinned at her and leaned against the bench. Rather than terrify the birds, they flew up and perched on his spines, cooing softly. Miranda rose an eyebrow and glanced at him; he shrugged.

“Birds love me like this. I don't understand.” He shook his head in confusion and stood up, dusting himself off. “I'm going to go to the lab, and then head home. Hit me up online if you wanna chat, ok? I'm not much of a fan of being outside when I'm like this.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Miranda said with a smile. “See you later, and thanks again.”

She watched Seth leave, his spiky tail dragging along behind him, the pigeons still perched on his large back spines. Shaking her head in bewilderment, she hoped he could reverse what he'd done to himself. It was bad enough the history the gammas had, and the reputations that followed them. She reached for her textbook, but allowed herself an indulgent glance at the photos in her phone, of a naked, soaked redhead, grinning that infuriating smirk...

*** *** ***

Walter Durgess never considered himself a religious man. His parents revered the Pantheon, but Walter himself had always found it a bit too constricting, the stories more than far-fetched. Still, his recent actions had taken a toll on him over the last few weeks, and he needed to come clean to somebody. Even if it wasn't his fault, he'd definitely participated, but he couldn't imagine what he might have done if one of those girls had actually died. Jimmy had gone too far. The Gods were watching when they had done that deed, and they were watching him now. He felt eyes on him at all times. Something was coming for him.

These thoughts had taken him out of work that day and up the stairs of Merriwinter's cathedral. Twin stained glass windows, one featuring the sun over a forest, the other the moon over a lake, dwarfed him in their enormous complexity. Nine stairs up, and Walter stood at the heavy wooden doors. He took in a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and entered the building. With a whoosh, the pressure in the air was not only heard but felt, and feeling small and insignificant, Walter entered the massive stone structure. Around him, stained glass told the most familiar stories, but the statues of the Pantheon unnerved him. Made of marble, they towered over him, looking down upon him with soft expressions like a parent beholding their child, save one. It was this one that Walter went up to; a thirty-foot-tall statue of a beautiful woman with a harsh, indifferent expression. Walter looked up at the visage of Irae, Goddess of Judgment, and gulped at his decision to confront her.

He quickly found a priest, and requested a confessional, which the priest was happy to oblige. He went off to fetch another, and Walter sat in one side of the booth, timorously tapping a rhythm on the old wood of the chamber. Moments later, the door on the other side opened and closed, and a person sat down, the faint clinkling of holy symbols audible. Walter sighed and brushed his whispy brown hair aside, and steeled himself once more.

“Relax, my son, all are equal in the eyes of Irae. You have something to confess?” The Reverend said in a deep, calming voice.

“Yes, F-Father, I. Well, my friends and I, we...” Walter sighed and grit his teeth. “We assaulted...beat, I mean, not...sexually...two girls coming out of a diner, two Unbound girls...”

“Neo human girls, my son. Unbound is an outdated term,” The priest said in an alarmed voice. “You hurt these women?”

“F-Four of us, yeah. We...we hurt them pretty bad. It was my friend's idea, but...but I acknowledge my actions were my own, and I can only blame myself.”

The priest was silent for a moment, and then spoke. “You are brave to admit this. Your actions were, at the very least, deplorable and worthy of severe punishment. You seek atonement?”

“Yes, sir, I...I really can't live with myself, having done what I'd done,” Walter replied, on the verge of tears. It felt amazing to speak of this, but he knew he'd be going to prison. “Should turn myself in, shouldn't I...” He said, his voice cracking.

“That'd be step one, yes,” The priest said. “Do this. Serve your time. Learn from your mistakes. When possible, seek the girls you hurt. Apologize, beg their forgiveness. They may not give it to you. This is something you must understand.”

“Yes, Father, I...” Walter cried for a moment, and found his resolve. “Yes. I'll go...I'll go turn myself in.” He exited the booth, wiped away his tears, and made for the door. Every step felt like a forced march through a quagmire. His legs were heavy, his chest pounding with fear and regret. Every time he passed a statue, the eyes felt less friendly, less welcoming; each one screamed his flaws at him. As he exited the structure, the sun felt colder, the wind more bitter. He needed to do this. It needed to stop. Walter stepped down the nine stairs, turning back towards his car...

“Walter? Walter Durgess?” A voice asked. London accent. Feminine. Tinted by age and experience. Walter turned and gulped. The owner of the voice was astonishingly pretty. Deep red curls tumbled down the sides of her angular face, her jawline alone worthy of praise. Crimson lips curled in a smile, and eyes the color of the purest emeralds met his brown irises. She wore a long black, clingy dress that lightly rippled in the November air, and smiled sweetly. At this smile, warmth rushed into Walter. The pain of what he'd done washed away, and his worries became distant memories. Sweet scent flooded him, a potent scent like rain on fresh soil, and it swept all his attention towards this girl, this gorgeous woman. Flashes of impossible things flew through his mind; her joy at gifts he'd bring her, the sweet laughter at his jokes at dinner, the feel of the silky warmth that her sublime body promised. These images, these lying dreams played so fast in Walter's mind that he was left delirious, wanting so badly to know this woman he'd just met down to her very core. Before this moment, Walter had never been in love; now, he was a profound believer in love at first sight. He tried to respond, but mumbled, so the exquisite girl grinned a smile that almost made the man drop to his knees and weep.

“My name is Doctor Northvale, I am doing an experiment on human behavior in stressed social situations,” The redhead explained calmly. “The pay is two hundred dollars for one experiment, and participating in this would greatly benefit local neo human charities.” She smiled again and gestured towards a taxi. “If you would accompany me to my laboratory, I would be most sincerely appreciative.”

Walter stammered. This was his chance! The Gods had given him a golden opportunity to right his wrongs, and rewarded his honesty with this presence of what must be an angel of theirs. He took the chance, eagerly accepting the girl's offer. Questions screamed in his head, who are you, how did you find me, why me, exactly, but they were all drowned out by the scent of petrichor and the idea of being in the presence of this goddess for just another moment. The taxi drove down the street to meet Walter and Dr. Northvale, and she grinned again as she held open the door.

“Please, if you'll enter. We have much to accomplish,” She said, twirling her hair in her fingers.

Kira Northvale played her fingers across the smooth marble countertop, idly drumming against a glass that contained yet more of her late father's scotch. She watched Walter Durgess sleep on a couch, snoring into the fabric, obviously entertaining a dream that was far better than the nightmare he'd soon wake up into. The drink hissed in response to her touch; the infernal hatred was rising within Kira again, as she remembered this man and his three companions, and the deeds they did. Forgivable, yes, but it was easy to rationalize away what little moral issues Kira had left about human experimentation when they'd performed such actions. Besides, it's not like they could have really hurt Kira if they tried – she had Neo Ability Four to thank for that – but they'd definitely hurt Miranda. That was what made her as furious as she was. The redhead tried to calm herself, to control the literal fiery rage that burned within her, but it came as often as it went. The flames were not nearly as easy to control as anything else.

The brilliant dominatrix regarded her current position. Walter Durgess lay before her, in a state of intoxicated sleep. She frowned; perhaps she'd overdone it with the pheromones. She'd had Neo Ability One for so long, yet, they were so particular; she had to be ever-so-precise. The path of aroused to mentally subservient, to intoxicated, and then basically brain dead, was a slippery one, and it all varied person-to-person. She wasn't sure when he'd get up. Kira watched as the man snored, her eyebrow arching over her emerald iris as she looked upon him disdainfully. She rummaged in her lab coat for a moment, pulling forth a tape recorder and clicking the button. She set it upon the marble countertop and began to speak, multitasking as she painted her fingernails the exact shade of her eyes.

“Subjects are hereby designated Six-Seven through Six-Ten, four homo sapiens who have volunteered for experimentation. Subjects are currently in a state of either unconsciousness or delirium, and will be revived to full consciousness and cognizance once the tests start. It is important to note that the subjects do not have knowledge of any Neo Ability beyond the lesser use of Neo Ability Five to mimic the behaviorial patterns of a Delta Neo; therefore, their reactions are genuine,” Kira spoke to herself. She bit her lip as she talked; soon, she'd be driving her toys into herself as she listened to the night's experiments, self-indulgence crying out in one of its purest forms. This was as erotic as anything. “It is recommended that the listener be aware of the current status of the subject's psyches.”

Crimson hair trailing behind, Kira left the den she'd dumped Walter in, heading down the hall of her estate to the location of her first experiment – her patio, where she'd dropped off Jeremy Bevinski. He was the one who threw the bottle at the diner, the grand instigator. It made sense to her that she start with him. Kira put a swing into her hips as she walked; the scotch buzzed inside her, and though Ability Four made it particularly difficult for her to get drunk, it was certainly not for her lack of trying. Everything about her step radiated how she felt; the click of her heels, the feel of the nylons clinging to her hot skin, the aura of power she exuded with just a glance. Kira Northvale felt like the sexiest creature on the planet, and there wasn't much reason she should not.

“Subject Six-Seven, formerly known as Jeremy Bevinski,” Kira cooed into her recorder, taking a moment to sip. “Will be the focus of a test designed to determine the durability of homo sapiens minutus. The newly created sub-species begged the question, could the irregularities of neo power augmentation through Subject Zero cause an increase in strength, durability or resilience? This test shall prove the answer.” Kira's lips curled into a wicked grin, her entire body thrumming as she walked towards the patio door. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she watched the doorknob rattle, as she heard banging on the other side, screaming to be let out. She'd practically drugged Jeremy with her pheromones; the sudden lack of them was driving him mad. Kira opened the door and flared Ability Six to life; by the time Jeremy had scrambled out of the room, he was eight inches tall and sprawled on the carpet that covered Kira's wooden floor. Her monolithic heel slammed into the ground before him a few times, tapping out a promising, fatal rhythm. Eyes as wide as plates, Jeremy looked up, up, and up, to the form-fitting khakis and sweeping lab coat of a smiling, redheaded Goddess. Her buxom chest looked to be mountains; her legs towered above him for miles. Face white as a sheet, Subject Six-Seven took off like a shot, running directly between Kira's feet and out from underneath him. With a clap of her hands and a giggle, Kira spun on her heels and dropped to all fours.

“Subject Six-Seven has decided to flee,” She purred, crawling behind him, expending minimal effort to keep up as he ran for his life. “It seems that no superhuman ability has been imbued in homo sapiens minutus. Subject seems only capable of running at normal human speeds, albeit on a much, much smaller scale.” Kira laughed and slammed her hand in front of him, causing the tiny man to shriek in fear and change direction, stumbling and falling hard onto the carpet. He scrambled to his feet, taking one last soul-searing glance at Kira's smiling face high above him. Her eyes twinkled, and she extended her fingers, laughing cruelly as she flicked him away from her. He landed unceremoniously, clutching his leg for a moment. She tsked, sitting up onto her feet and talking into her recorder.

“Minimal effort on the part of Subject Zero has resulted in the unfortunate maiming of Subject Six-Seven,” Kira said, twirling one of her curls around her finger. “It is regrettable, but this facility does not house medical equipment nor a proper treatment clinic for Six-Seven. I must...terminate the subject. I'm...I'm so sorry,” Kira played, her expression as far from regret as possible. Her eyes half-lidded, Kira crawled forward, positioning herself over the terrified, pale-faced, crying Jeremy Bevinski. “It has to be done,” She breathed, her voice husky.

“P-Please,” He cried, clutching his leg. “I'll...I'll do anything, j-just...just don't...”

“Perhaps,” Kira said softly, and it was for a fleeting moment that Jeremy believed she was acknowledging him as a person again. But soon, she had brought her recorder to her lips, and curled each word through them carefully, allowing her prey to watch her lips move. “It is opportune that such an event has occurred, for...potentially fatal...tests can be performed to further explore the resiliency of homo sapiens minutus.”

“Psychotic,” Jeremy wailed, trying to back away. “Y-You're fucking psychotic!” He shouted.

Kira's hand suddenly came down like a flash, crushing the poor man's lower body under her palm. Gritting her teeth, her eyes flaring up in the light of her own sadism, she roughly smeared him in half, her back arching as arousal took control of her. His screams sounded in her ears, and though he was quickly dying, he pulled himself away, entrails dragging on the floor behind him like a half-smushed bug. Kira steadied herself, rising up onto her feet and gently stepping out of her shoes. “Subjects...mm. Subjects seem to...seem to have no durability increase, and remain pathetically fragile,” She said, watching him crawl away in shock and pain. She wriggled her toes in the sweaty confines of her nylons, inches above his dying form. “I therefore complete the duty of executioner, as I can find no way to save him. It is...pitiable.” Grinning widely, Kira rose her knee up, and slammed her foot down as hard as she could. Bones snapped and blood sprayed, coating not only her entire nylon-clad arch but a good portion of the surrounding carpet as well. The redhead buckled, collapsing against the wall for support; she dug her nails into her wall, into her thighs, anything to relieve the potent sexual tension building inside her. Power shouldn't feel this fucking good.

“Subject...oh, fuck me...Subject Six-Eight awaits,” She breathed, tucking a piece of crimson behind her ear. Recomposing herself, Kira slowly walked toward the room in which she had Lizzie Williams. Every single time she took a step, she wiped her foot on the carpet a bit, smearing more and more of Jeremy upon the rug. The power intoxicated her; it filled her every movement, her every single action. As she brought the recorder to her trembling lips, she moaned softly, letting the words roll out. “Six-Eight is a noted...troublemaker,” Kira said, smiling as she paused to choose the word. “Subject is a very proud, vain individual. History of domestic violence and abuse. Therefore, Abilities will be used as they can to create a psychological environment suited for taming the subject.” Kira walked down the stairs, and smiled as she heard the sound of wood splintering, as well as grunts of effort. Clearly, her pheromones had not worked as well on Lizzie as they had on Jeremy. The redheaded Goddess walked calmly toward the closet in which she'd left the blue-haired girl, and laughed to herself as she saw the blade of a combat knife tear into the door, yet again.

“You seem to want out,” Kira said loudly, crossing her arms. For a moment, the knife stopped, and a harsh voice responded.

“I'm gonna gut you, you fucking disgusting Unbound slut --” Lizzie snarled, stabbing at the door repeatedly. Kira sighed, rolled her eyes, and opened the door, simultaneously letting Ability Four run its course. Lizzie leaped out, hate and rage in her brown eyes, and stabbed Kira as hard as she could in her heart. Kira flinched from the impact, but the blade shattered, breaking off halfway as it struck something as unforgiving as a brick wall. Lizzie cried out as the impact reveberated into her arm, but this cry was snuffed out as the wind left her – Kira had slammed her fist into her stomach, and was quickly letting Ability Three out as well.

“I don't like the way you talk,” Kira said in a soft, violent voice. She paced around as Lizzie struggled to her feet, looking from the shattered knife to Kira, and back again, all in a combination of fear, hate and confusion. “But you seem to want to fight. That's cute. You're a subject now, not a person. You don't have any rights to fight for.”

“SHUT THE FUCK --” Before Lizzie could act, before she could even finish her sentence, Kira punched her hard across the side of her face, sending the girl into the wood so hard it splintered. The redhead shuddered with anger; Ability Three made her powerful, but it also made her furious, and she hated being a toy of her emotions. Lizzie didn't get up immediately, so Kira grabbed the girl by the hair and picked her up, holding her at arm's length.

“I thought you were tough?” Kira asked in that quiet voice. Lizzie's hair began to sizzle, and she clawed at Kira's grip, stabbing at her unyielding skin with the broken blade. “What happened to super-bitch Lizzie Williams, who knocks down lovers at a diner because they're Unbound? Your daddy must be so proud.”

“Fuck...you!” Lizzie screamed. The heat on the top of her head was beginning to become unbearable. She spat at Kira, screamed and flailed, and eventually, Kira simply batted her across the room like a rag doll, knocking over a chair and shattering a glass table that the girl came to rest against. Bleeding and broken, Lizzie looked up at the powerful redhead, who folded her arms and pouted.

“Are you ready to be a good girl?” Kira asked, grinning. Lizzie snarled, her rage building up.

“GO TO HELL, CUNT!” Lizzie shrieked. Kira stood there in silence for a moment, and then shook her head. She crossed the distance in seconds, knocking Lizzie's knife aside and breaking the girl's hand with a squeeze of her own. The blue-haired girl shrieked in pain, and Kira picked her up, strong-arming her by the throat. Lizzie struggled, but the struggles turned to screams as serious heat began to scald her neck.

“I hate you,” Kira said quietly, her rage surfacing. Lizzie cried and begged as the heat surged through her body, as her hair sizzled and her clothes frayed. “You're ugly, mean, cruel and hateful. You want to feel what it's like to be hated for what you are? Would you like to see, to experience what that feels like? Fuck me, you say? No. Fuck you, bitch.” Kira snarled and twisted, snapping the girl's neck as she burst into flames. Kira dropped the burning bigot, watching her twitch and spasm, unable to do much other than die a gurgling, hissing death. As she calmed Ability Three down, she bit her lip and glanced at the discarded recorder, hoping it had caught most of that.

Kira picked up the recorder and hurried down the hall, towards the kitchens. She'd been waiting for this one. Derrick Powell had tried to kill her and Miranda with a baseball bat. Roleplay or not, there was no saving this one. Kira giggled as she opened up one of her drawers, grabbing the tiny man and holding him in her grip. Still buzzing from the scotch, the arousing roleplay, and the way she'd disposed of her previous subjects, the redheaded Goddess glared hunger and fire at her newest toy. She sat her ample hips upon a stool, twirling back and forth in it.

“Subject Six-Nine will be tested on whether or not homo sapiens minutus is a viable food source,” Kira said, smiling as the man's eyes bugged out of his head and he fought her iron grip with increased fervor. “Simultaneously fixing world hunger and overpopulation! I simply am a genius.”

“I remember you! I know who you are! Oh, SHIT!” Derrick exclaimed, kicking against Kira's hand. She laughed and twirled her hair in her fingers again, pouting in mock affection.

“Aw, you remember me,” Kira giggled, licking her lips, purposefully letting a drop of viscous, boiling drool to drip onto the counter. “I daresay it'll be hard to forget me after this.” She stood up, crossing over to her living room and flopping on the couch. Derrick swung back and forth in her grip, clawing at air and pleading for forgiveness. Her fiery hair bounced and cascaded down her shoulders as she leaned forward, maw opening to reveal long strands of spit whose tensile strength had not yet been broken.

“NO! DON'T PUT ME IN THERE!” Derrick screamed. Kira laughed and breathed onto her toy. Derrick screamed in agony, writhing as the scalding breath of this redheaded sadist washed over him. Without much fanfare, Kira let go, and Derrick fell, shrieking and pleading, onto her infernal tongue. With a snap of her lips, Kira shut the man in a dark, hellish environment, bathing him in boiling spit and cooking him within her mouth. One hand ripped open her shirt, spilling her enormous chest out and exposing her narrow waist. She ran her hands over herself as she slurped and suckled on her cooking prey like a candy, and moaned as drool dripped down her chin and onto her chest. Her pussy ached, begging to be filled...

The screaming stopped. Kira pouted; it was such a rush. She shook her head, tilting it back to allow gravity to help her. Derrick's boiled body descended down her throat, and with a loud gulp, it took him. Kira hung her tongue out for a moment, giggled, and looked down at her unabashed nakedness. Fuck the goddamn tests, she was getting off, NOW.

As she walked back to the room that contained Walter, she let the lab coat fall, and discarded her shirt as well. The carpet singed and twisted under the heat of her soles as she walked, which in turn made short work of the nylons. They frayed and burnt, the charred fabric dusting the floor behind her, leaving a wake of ash. Gloriously naked, hair askew, Kira Northvale pounded her way toward the door, her heart racing, her body aflame...the door gave way, wooden splinters flying as she nearly threw it off its hinges...she was going to boil this fucker alive inside her...

No. God. Fucking. No.

Cold wind swept through the room, but it turned to moisture as it embraced the redhead's naked form. The window lay open, and Walter was nowhere to be found. Hate and disdain brimming inside her, Kira glanced out the window, grimacing as she beheld an impact mark on the grass below. He'd be hurt from a second-story jump, but not dead.

Not yet.

Scooping up her recorder, Kira sat in a chair in the room, idly playing with the glass of scotch again. “Subject Seven-Ten has escaped the facility,” Kira said, sighing. “Attempts will be made to retrieve him. Until then, we will make use of what we have to continue experiments,” Kira said. She ran a hand through her hair and looked to the side at her drawer of sex toys. Tonight would still not go to waste. “Perhaps...perhaps, after Ability Two has been used...Subject Zero-One would like to play.”

That night, Kira's screams were louder than ever.

The small rabbit looked up, its ears perking. Twin splotches of black adorned its back, contrasting with the otherwise pure white softness of its body. This coloration was what drove Miranda to make a sound that she felt a brief twang of embarrassment over, but nonetheless scooped up the little creature and cradled it.

“Look, look!” She said, pawing at its tiny ears. “It's ADORABLE.”

“It truly is,” Kira said, leaning in to smile affectionately at it. “Do you want it?”

“Gods, yes, but I'm so busy, I'd have no time for it and I'd feel terrible,” Miranda pouted. “And quit buying me things, I don't care how rich you are.”

Kira laughed and crossed her arms. “That's not what you said when we were at the food court.”

“That's food, that's a whole different story,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. “You're offering to buy me shoes, and clothes, and bunnies, for crying out loud. What's next? Cars and houses?”

Kira looked to the side briefly and grinned sheepishly. “I-I've got a spare Mitsubishi Spyder...”

“Kira! Stop spoiling me,” Miranda said, hugging the redhead close to her. “I adore you, but by Tenebria, girl.” She said, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

“Except on food,” Kira said, writing this on an imaginary notepad. “And...lingerie? You're not stopping me from buying you outfits, pet.” She practically moaned the last word, rolling her tongue off her teeth. Miranda involuntarily spasmed, almost dropping the rabbit; she returned it to the pen.

“Y-Yeah, that's...that's fair,” Miranda said dreamily. “Where to?”

Kira checked her phone, frowning. “Movie doesn't start for another hour and a half,” She murmured. “There's a lovely book store nearby if class hasn't short-circuited your ability to enjoy reading.”

“No, no, that sounds amazing. Let's go.” She replied. Bidding goodbye to the clerk, the pair left the pet store, walking through St. Augustine Mall in southern Luxsey. The December day's sunlight shone through the skylights above, and around them, people moved towards their various destinations. As she was wont to do, Kira gathered more attention than she'd probably like. People of both genders stared at her, or whispered to each other as they passed. Hair shining in the light, casually dressed and hand-in-hand with Miranda, the redhead looked a sight.

The two girls settled into the book store, finding a cozy corner to read; Miranda chose a graphic novel, while Kira buried herself in a murder mystery. Forty minutes passed in comfortable silence, until Kira remembered something and spoke up. “Ah, lovely. I've been meaning to tell you. I'm going to England for a couple of weeks around Christmas, to see my mother and great-aunt.”

Miranda frowned. “Aw,” She whined. “I wanted to spend it with you.”

Kira's emerald irises locked onto her navy blues, apology written in their color. “I know, darling...oh, wait a moment...come with me!”

Miranda blinked. “What? With you? To England?”

“Yes! My family would adore you,” She said, grinning widely. “Please say yes, it'd mean a lot.”

Miranda hesitated. She had always spent Christmas with her mother, and often Seth, whose family was broken and made no attempt to hide their shame in the Gamma neo. But, images danced across her head, as they often did near her redheaded paramour; old brick covered in snow, tall trees, fancy dinners, and a smiling Kira to share it with. Kira's sweet scent filled her mind, accompanying the images as though made for each other. Miranda allowed herself to drool over the images...unwrapping a silk-clad Kira present...and made her decision.

“Yes, yes please...that sounds lovely,” Miranda said, and blushed a bit. “I'm...you might...have to pay for my plane ticket though.” She admitted sheepishly. Kira rolled her eyes.

“Or, we could take my father's – my – jet. Jeez, Manda, pay attention, you know who I am,” Kira muttered, turning the page of her book nonchalantly.

“You have a – what the hell, Kira?” Miranda said aloud. Kira giggled at her, and Miranda returned the laugh. Her mother might be disappointed, but she'd have known Miranda was going to grow up and move out someday. This would be a marvelous Christmas.

Miranda's chosen movie – Last Light II – was, as Miranda put it in a five-minute rant, not as good as the first one but helped clarify the mystery surrounding the monstrous subterranean attackers, and did indeed establish whether or not they were ancient aliens, which she was glad they weren't, as she disliked that fan theory. Kira slurped a soda and sat there, watching the ravenette clamor on about it with unblinking green eyes, and when Miranda finally finished to drink, Kira kissed her. Again, the two girls let the world dissolve before breaking away.

“Do you ever think about that day at the diner?” Kira asked suddenly, playing with her straw. Miranda cocked her head to the side.

“When we were attacked?” Miranda asked cautiously. They hadn't spoken of it since. Kira nodded numbly, and she looked down at the cup she held in both hands.

“If you could...would you get revenge?” The British beauty asked. Miranda blinked. Kira's scent poured through her as it often did, giving her a near high she never got tired of. Again, vivid images flickered through her mind, of Kira, her house, that shower...

“I...,” Miranda began, trailing off. “Yeah, I...I guess...”

Kira fiddled with the peridot that hung around her neck, as always. “I hurt them in my mind sometimes. I...I don't want revenge for me,” Kira clarified. “But...they hurt you, and...and I hate them for it.” Miranda stared at the gorgeous redhead for a moment, emotions of all sorts rushing through her.

“It's...it's okay to hate, Kira, but...doesn't hurting them make us as bad as them?” She asked. Kira raised and lowered a shoulder. Another whiff of the miraculous scent of Kira, and Miranda was again thrown down memory lane.

“I guess so,” Kira said quietly. “I just wish I could make them feel as insignificant as they made me feel.” She crumpled up the soda cup in her hands, eyes brimming with tears. Miranda leaped over to her side, putting her arm around the trembling redhead.

“Kira, it's...I'm fine, obviously,” Miranda said affectionately. “I know you've been through a lot, but...you didn't lose me, and I'm sorry you had to watch me get hurt,” She said, and then added with a smile, “By someone other than you.”

Kira laughed a shaky giggle and smiled widely at Miranda. “Thanks. Let's...let's go home.”

*** *** ***

It had been awhile since Miranda had been home to her dormitory – Kira was more than happy to allow her to stay, and the redhead's master bedroom was a land of comfort and pleasure in line with the most decadent tales of Rome – but like everyone else, Miranda needed some time to herself. She sidled up to her computer, yawned, and scratched her cat behind her ears. Sleepy Miranda drank coffee from a mug – she had to finish some homework before she left – when Seth opened a chat with her.

“Hey Mands,” It said. “I found some stuff on that peridot. Specifically that one.”

Miranda put her cup down and began typing back in eager curiosity. “Really! What did you learn?”

Seth posted a couple of links. “Lorelei Cruz, seen here with it some forty years ago,” Seth typed. “Traced her, and she's Kira's great-aunt. So, I can assume it's an heirloom of sorts. They must be close.”

“That's a little creepy, Seth.” Miranda replied with an emoticon indicating sarcasm. She opened up the link – it led to a wedding photograph of two women, a dark-skinned, cute girl smiling ear-to-ear, and another redhead who looked a lot like Kira, but less like a walking photoshop edit. Clear as day, the peridot hung around her neck.

“It's really easy to replace the chain, that's fine,” Seth typed. “But then I happened to find...this.” He posted another link; Miranda clicked on it, and held a hand to her mouth in surprise.

It was a picture of a newspaper article, dated nine years ago. The headline read, “TRAGEDY IN LONDON – MADAME VICTORIA ESQUALLE, MURDERED.” The article went on about the gruesome death, how a gangster, spurned for another by the famous alpha neo, gunned her down in a drive-by shooting. It went on to explain how the police found her. “Kira Northvale, aged 16, witnessed the murder and carried the dying woman's body to the nearest station. Miss Northvale was in a state of shock and neglected to comment on the event.” A picture showed paramedics loading the body into an ambulence, and Kira sat on the steps near the station. It was clearly her, but she was more...human, more imperfect. A mole Miranda had never seen was on the right side of her forehead, near her hair line. Her usually impeccible lips were chapped, and blemishes dotted her left cheek. Adolescence, maybe, but something was off. Worse yet, she was covered in Victoria's blood, having dragged the body to the station by hand. The peridot hung around her neck.

“Holy shit.” Miranda typed back.

“Yeah, she's been through some serious crap.” Seth replied. “Sorry if that shook you up, but...I mean, it's on the internet, so she can't be too private about it. Judging from her money and power, I imagine she could remove all traces of it if she wanted.”

“She doesn't like to bring up her past, so I'm not going to. Thanks for your work, though.” Miranda replied. A nagging thought caught her, though, and she began typing again. “Hey, Seth? I know Kira gave a presentation on Madame Vi, but...what were her powers, again?”

Seth took a moment to respond. “Uh, basically seduction. She was gifted with astronomical beauty and sensuality. She could get anyone to do anything, but she was a really great person, just polyamorous, which earned her the death she got, unfortunately,” He typed. “She also had pheromones. They got into people's head and made them want to please her, to be with her. Master manipulator, if she wanted to be. Pretty good that she was a decent human being, she could have owned the world.”

Miranda considered this. She looked at the old photograph of sixteen-year-old Kira, and the one that she had as her phone's background. She remembered things Kira had said in passing, things that the redhead had confessed to her, and pieces began clicking – but she didn't dare put credence into it. “Thanks, Seth, I owe you one.” She bid him adieu and began thinking of ways to replicate the chain, where she might buy the metal.

That nagging thought did not stop. How could she bring up the conversation without ruining the day, or longer? Kira made it clear that her past was not something she liked to revisit – it consisted of dead idols, dead fathers, and dead dreams.

Miranda wished the thought would go away; she had much to plan for his upcoming trip, for her studies, and for her life. The last thing she needed was to doubt the only thing in her life that provided stability.

Gods, she missed the scent of that girl.