You won’t get very far in life on hard work and dedication, alone. You have to add some brains and common knowledge to the mix.

    That was the last thing Roi Davis’s older brother ever said to her. It was also what was going through her head as she walked down the streets of the dingy side of 1894’s London, England. Clearly she wasn’t using her head, but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. Nobody on the upper end would help her-not with her dirty clothes and American accent.

    Besides, she doubted anybody would really pay attention to her. Men those days were into girls with “exotic” looks. I.e, blonde and red hair, brown eyes and waists so small you could probably use them as a toothpick. Which meant that nobody would really care about a girl with stringy medium brown hair, blue eyes and a waist that could barely fit between two fingers, much less teeth.

    It was also why she was a bit shocked when a man who had to be at least seven years older than her almost-eighteen was suddenly upon her, smiling toothily into her eyes. Roi fixed the goggles perched on her head as she met his stare with what she hoped looked to be defiance.

    “Now, what’s a pretty lady like ye doing out at this time o’ night?” the man’s teeth were rotten and yellow. Roi held back a gag. It wasn’t like this was necessarily uncommon to come across in the late nineteenth century, she reminded herself.

    Still, she forced herself to hold her ground and tilted her chin up just a bit higher than usual, hoping it would give him some sort of respect for her even though she was well over a foot shorter than him, “I happen to be meeting an acquaintance of mine here. And he should be showing quite soon.”

    The man raised a dark, bushy brow, “Ye talk real fancy-like for a lass ‘o’s got more dirt on ‘er than ‘alf the men I see in a fortnight.”

    “I had a run of bad luck on my way here,” Roi commented, easily lying through her teeth on a moment’s notice, “Some thief broke into my vehicle and stole most of the belongings I had on my person.”

    “Not the belongin’ I was thinkin’ of takin, I ‘ope?” the man grabbed a hold of her arm roughly, clearly not buying her story. Roi licked her lips nervously. If he didn’t let go of her soon, she would end up doing something they would both regret.

    “You’re hurting me,” she hissed.

    “Don’t ye worry,” the man laughed, “In just a few a moments, I’ll be makin’ ye scream fer more.”

    Roi highly doubted that, but she was smart enough not to say so. “Please, sir. My ride will be here, soon. If I am not here when he arrives, he will know something happened. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

    “Sure ye don’,” the man’s grip on her arm tightened as he turned to pull her down the road toward a brightly lit saloon where Roi could hear loud music playing, “Ye sure know ‘ow t’ turn a man on.”

    “Sir,” Roi decided to try for a different approach, “Please. I’m sure that there are girls more suited to your tastes who would be more than happy to please you.”

    “I like me lasses to put up a fight,” the man smirked. Roi was beginning to be able to feel his grip down to her bone. All of a sudden, she wished she had told someone where she was going, “And ye’re puttin’ up a perty good one.”

    “I highly doubt that,” Roi yanked once and winced as all it accomplished was hurting her arm even more, “I’m not so much putting up a fight as I am trying to talk some sense into you.”

    “Which is doin’ a fine good job. I don’ like ‘aving to ‘urt lasses ‘o put up fights.”

    Roi clenched her teeth. She could escape this situation easily, but not without causing some permanent damage to the man, which she didn’t want to do. Aside from the apparent want to rape girls, he didn’t enjoy what would happen to him if she was forced to physically defend herself. It would be even worse if even Ana or Edgar got a hold of him.

    “Sir,” she tried again, “I can’t go with you. The man I’m meeting is an earl. If he catches you-”

    “What?” they were so close to the saloon, now. Roi knew that if she didn’t get him to let her go soon, she’d have no choice, “‘E’ll give me a good bashin’? Don’ ye worry, lass, I can take a weak lil earl.”

    “With all due respect, I’ve never met someone who could beat him in hand-to-hand combat,” another blatant lie. Another one he didn’t believe.

    “Well, I’ll be ‘appy to be the first one to take ‘im down.”

    “Sir, it’s impossible. Nobody can beat him.”

    The man finally turned back on her, stopping, “Lassie, let’s stop this. We both know that there’s no earl coming to get you. No earl would ‘ave anythin’ to do with a lass dressed so dirty.”

    Roi sighed. She really would have to remember not to go so overboard while going undercover. It was going to be the death of her-or someone else-sooner or later.

    “Either way,” she yanked one more time on her arm. Which still didn’t do much good. Damn. Maybe Heath was right and she should train some more. “I’m not going anywhere with someone as dirty as you.”

    That seemed to-finally-piss the man off. He grabbed a hold of either side of her shirt which was laced together in the front and ripped it apart. For a second, Roi briefly entertained why he thought doing that would accomplish anything other than make a complete ass of himself but then remembered that he was an angry buffoon. It was pointless to try and make sense of anything he tried to do.

    Besides, now that her shirt was ripped open, he could plainly see the bright golden phoenix that was stamped onto her undergarment. The crest of the Ashbur family.

    The man backed up, visibly surprised that she actually was telling the truth. It didn’t make him back off though.

    “So ye’re a mistress?” the man snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her up against his chest, “I ne’er knew the Ashbur rascal was int’ keeping those ‘round.”

    They were too close to the building, and the man was too strong. Roi was forced to admit that there was nothing else she could do. She was going to have to pull out all her stops-however dangerous they may be.

    So she closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds, before allowing a condescending smirk grace her lips, “Not quite.”

    She then reached out with her mind, searching for his. As soon as she was able to grasp a hold of it, she began to squeeze onto his inner consciousness. His head was cold, like it was permanently in it’s own personal gutter. Roi cringed but forced herself to stay in-she was fairly certain that she would be scarred from this encounter but she didn’t have a choice.

    The man screamed and lurched away from her, clutching at his head. His shrieks of pain sent chills down Roi’s spine but she refused to back off. This was what he deserved. If she stopped now, he would come after her again. She began to mold his consciousness, into what she wasn’t sure. Probably nothing, really. All she was really hoping to accomplish was to knock him out without causing any serious damage.

    He dropped to his knees, before falling face first onto the cold concrete. Roi stepped away from him and finally let go of his mind. As she did so, she felt the tentacles of her thoughts curl back within her head and relax against her brain. She backed up, her boots clanking against the ground before turning around-and coming face to face with a blonde haired girl.

    The girl pursed her lips angrily, before glancing down at the unconscious man and then back up at her, “Ye’re lucky I was the one ‘o noticed ye was missing, and not ‘eath.”

    Roi wouldn’t count herself lucky that anyone noticed she was missing. Her friends for some reason seemed to believe that she had to stay locked up in that house, even though she’d proven that she could protect herself many times over by now.

    It was probably because she was American. And a girl. And the British weren’t known for being particularly happy with the Americans at the time being.

    Not only that,she also just happened to be a girl from the twenty-first century.

    “You guys can stop being so overprotective of me,” she sighed, “I’ve already been here for almost three months. It isn’t as if I don’t know what to do, anymore.”

    Ana-pronounced Ah-nah-crossed her arms, “It don’t matter. London is a dangerous place right now.” her face morphed into one of horror as she took in what Roi had on, “What are ye wearin’?!”

    Roi glanced down at her torn shirt and short skirt she’d brought from her own time, “Clothes?”

    “Those ain’t clothes!” Ana gasped, “God, lass, ye’re very lucky it were me ‘o found ye missin’! ‘eath would ‘ang ye if ‘e saw what ye were wearin’!”

    Roi shrugged, “I was trying to fit in.”

    “Ye were tryin’ to make a mokery o’ yerself.” Ana grabbed a hold of her hand and began to drag her toward the carriage that sat on the other side of the street, “What were ye doin’, all the way o’er ‘ere?”

    Roi pursed her lips and turned away, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

    Ana very well did know, and her look proved it. However, she merely sighed before glancing at the top of Roi’s head, “Must’ve scared ye right good, that man. Turned ye’re roots white.”

    Roi blinked, before bending down to gaze at herself in the metal wheel of the vehicle. It was true. Most of her hair was it’s usual medium brown, but at the top, there was a thin line of bright golden blonde hair. She frowned-what was that?

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    It wasn’t unusual for Heathrow Ashbur to wake up and find that half the guests in his house were suddenly gone. It happened quite a bit as of late. They were all out trying to find ways to get Roi-the newest addition to his band of misfits-back to her own time. Or trying to figure out just what the hell was wrong with them.

    Everyone who lived in the London Ashbur estate had something… special about them. There was Ana, the Scottish girl who was able to practically make things out of thin air, simply through will and determination. Edgar, the brute of a man who could destroy most anything with his bare fist alone-made even stronger, now that both of his fists were metal. Jocelyn, the dame who made and took away heat with her mind. Roi, the future girl who could grasp onto someone else’s mind and do almost everything from mentally torturing them to death to making them do whatever she wanted.

    And him, who could give and take these gifts as he pleased.

    At that moment, as he sat in the parlor, anxiously waiting for the two missing girls to return, he briefly entertained the idea of taking Roi’s powers away. It would leave her feeling off balance and uncomfortable, so she would know he knew she was out. And besides, he had no doubt that she was up to no good and Ana had gone out looking for her.

    But she could be in danger at the moment, and in need of those powers, so he decided to wait until she was safely back home. He’d hoped it wouldn’t have to come to it, but maybe he’d have to have Danny-the household insomniac and man who was able to physically freeze a person in their motion-keep watch over her during the night.

    The front door creaked open a few hours before dawn and he heard the hushed whispers of two girls. They would have to pass through the parlor to get anywhere, so he simply stayed seated and waited for them to appear.

    Ana entered first, her wavy brown hair bouncing about her as she tiptoed into the room. She froze, halfway through the thresh hold before bouncing back out. Roi must’ve done a mental scan and sensed that someone was in the room, waiting. Heath frowned slightly in annoyance before reaching out, feeling the two girls’ minds and yanking their powers away from them.

    “Damn,” he heard Roi hiss, before her voice dropped so low that he couldn’t make out what she was saying.

    “Maybe we could sneak in the back?” Ana offered. There was something in her voice that made Heath guess they were trying to hide something other than the fact that they had snuck out.

    “He’s faster than us,” Roi reminded her. “We should wait until he gets bored and goes to sleep.”

    “Not likely to happen,” Ana shot back, “‘e has more patience than either one of us. We could end up waiting all night.”

    “But he can’t see me like this! You said it yourself, he’ll kill me!”

    Heath felt his eyebrow tick. Why shouldn’t he be able to see her? “Girls!” he cried, “We can all get to bed a lot sooner if you just come in here!”

    There was silence for a second, before more hushed whispering and then the door opened again and they came shuffling in. Heath felt his teeth clench as he caught sight of what Roi was wearing.

    “Didn’t I tell you to burn that skirt?” he asked, glancing at her legs. Obviously! Jezebels showed less skin than that!

    “And I told you that this was my favorite skirt so there’s no way I’m going to get rid of it,” Roi shot back crossing her arms. That drew Heath’s attention to her shirt-her very ripped shirt.

    He breathed deeply through his nose, trying to calm himself before thrusting a finger toward the stairs, “You two are not to leave this house again tonight. I will deal out the punishments, tomorrow.”

    The two of them grudgingly did as they were told, Ana grumbling the whole time about how she shouldn’t be punished for doing the right thing.

    Heath sighed, and collapsed back onto the seat. Really, Roi had only lived with them for a quarter of a year, and she had already snuck out more times than he could count. Edgar had warned him when she first showed up on his doorstep that she would end up being trouble but he hadn’t listened. The girl was â…” the size of him-and probably half the size of Edgar, so he’d had trouble figuring out how she could be any more trouble than Ana.

    Guess he got his answer.

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    Heath still had a hold of her powers. Roi knew this because she could still feel the awkward emptiness in her head. She winced, and put a hand to her head. Not having the power made her feel weak, exposed. So long as she had it, she was able to keep people out of her head, but now that Heath had temporarily confiscated it, he could use it to probe her mind.

    Roi curled up her on her bed, and closed her eyes. If she slept, then there wouldn’t be anything embarrassing for him to see. At least, so long as it was one of her regular nights where she didn’t dream anything sexual about him. Besides, she knew he would try to figure out why she went out tonight but wouldn’t be able to so long as she wasn’t conscious.

    She put a hand to her head. She’d never had her power used against her for anything other than having Heath probe her thoughts. He’d never use it to squeeze her conscience like she did whenever she was in a fight that required it. However, from the one time she’d tentatively used it on Heath-due to his insistence-and from how he’d described it, she imagined that how she was feeling now was a bit like how she made other people feel. Except she didn’t have the actual pain.

    She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until Heath gave her her power back. She felt too empty, too… fragile. As if the simplest things could make her explode.

    So she closed her eyes and focused on trying not to pay attention to the emptiness in her head.