It was midday, but already the sky was darkening as ominous looking clouds blew in from the north.  My social worker, Julie, gave the sky a grim look as the wind pushed against her tiny car, her foot pressing harder on the accelerator in an attempt to speed up what was becoming usual business.

“I hope you make this one work,” Julie drawled, her Arkansas accent making each word sound longer than it would had she been born two states further north.  I gave her a blank look, not bothering to keep up the act of the happy orphan or to continue the charade of pretending to empathize with her struggles over my case.  I could see the stress on her face, her crow’s feet growing deeper and her brown frizzy hair becoming streaked with grey.  She wouldn’t last much longer, that much was certain, but then again I was only two years away from being eighteen.  Then I would be no one’s problem but my own.

Turning back to the window, I focused on the hilly landscape of the Ozarks roling by rather than the thickening clouds.  “It’s not my fault that the McCullars went insane.”

“Korrin,” the social worker started sternly, “Those people were perfectly sane.  I have to believe that you did something to make them act so irrationally.

“They said I was devil-spawn.  What could I possibly have done to be called that?”

“Well you knew that they were very religious.  Maybe if you dressed more conservatively…” she trailed off as the car shook a little in the wind.

“I don’t think my clothes had anything to do with it,” I mumbled, glancing down at the black boots I wore over a pair of tight black pants.  They were not so offending as some of the short skirts and low cut tops most teenage girls seemed to be wearing, even if my blue tunic and leather jacket was a bit edgy for the Bible Belt. 

Still, if my clothes had offended the McCullars it wasn’t the reason they demanded I be placed with another family.    Even if I had worn a nun habit that wouldn't have kept them from calling the county.  They, like the rest of my foster families, had been able to sense what I truly was and it scared them.  No amount of conservative tops and shapeless dresses would change that.

I couldn't blame them, of course.  Humans were nothing more than intelligent animals after all.  Eventually survival instincts would kick in even for the most logical of people, allowing them to sense the darkness that I hid beneath a façade of tan skin, silver-white hair, and bright blue eyes.  It was nothing more than an illusion, of course, a poor mask of what I use to be to cover the monster I had become.  Yet even that mask couldn't keep my curse hidden away forever.  The humans didn't need to see my black eyes or the twirling black brand that extended from my collarbone to just below my navel to know that something was not right.  All they needed was a little time before an irrational fear filled them, making them act like scared little sheep being circled by a starving wolf.  Only I wasn't a wolf.  I was more than just a predator masquerading as one of the prey.  I was the embodiment of all the nightmares that woke them in the dead of night.  Once they sensed that it took no time at all for them to create some sort of lie about a career change or a family emergency that would end with Jones County Human Services whisking me off to another town and another family.

Touching the invisible black mark on my chest I hoped that the people I was being placed with weren’t as pure as the McCullars.  I had known that they were going to be trouble the moment I saw their brightly shining souls, but it still was a little shocking that it had taken only three months before they resorted to holy water and crosses.  It was even more shocking that their conviction was actually strong enough to put a little power into their otherwise pitiful attacks.  

The entire affair had been exhausting, leaving me with only a shred of self-control to ignore the overwhelming desire to snuff out those annoyingly bright balls of light that glowed from their chests.  What I needed now was a family that was too involved in the material things of life to be bothered with good and evil, Light and Dark.  They always seemed to last a little longer than the humans who were true to the Light, the darkness that swallowed their souls making it difficult for them to sense my true nature.  It would buy me some time to rest and figure out where I had gone wrong in my current mortal life.  So far the seventeen years I had spent in this body had been completely useless, leaving me no closer to finding a cure for my curse.  If I was really being honest with myself, I hadn’t made any progress in removing the black mark that was burned into my skin since I started my crusade in the seventeenth century, but honesty has the way of being depressing.  It was better to ignore that ugly truth and hope that something would happen in this already wasted life that would drive the Darkness from me. 

“Now this school is going to be much smaller than the one in Joneston,” the social worker said in an attempt at making conversation.  “Only about fifty children per grade.”

“Uh huh.”

“So you’re going to have to be sociable, Korrin.  No one is going to want to be friends with a girl that doesn’t try to be friendly.”

“Smile and play nice.  Don’t worry, I get it.”

“It would be really good for you to make some friends this time around.  Might keep you from raisin’ hell with your foster family.”

I looked at her, a small smile pulling at my cheeks with her expression.  If she only knew how close to the mark she was she would probably have thrown me from the car despite the storm winds that were blowing.  Yet she was like most people these days, blind to what would have been obvious only a few centuries earlier.  Humans had lost the spiritual zeal that they use to have, making something like the Spanish Inquisition or Salem Witch Trials unlikely to reoccur, even in the Bible Belt.  These days most people trusted that there was some greater good out there but disregarded all the uncomfortable and frightening things that most religions held as doctrine.  Hell and punishment of sins had gone the way of supersition and fairytales.  I couldn’t blame them.  Believing that there were evil, dark spirits prowling around looking for souls to claim didn’t help anyone sleep better at night or further their careers.  It was far easier to ignore the Darkness and at times even the Light that filled this realm rather than look a demon in the face and see it for what it truly was. 

“So try to make this one work, okay, Korrin?” she said again as charming wooden sign welcoming us to Wrightville, Gem of the Ozarks: Population 3007, moved past my window only to be replaced by the quaint little southern town.  “Now isn’t this cute?”

I suppose to some it might be cute, the old wooden homes lining the well-groomed road having a historic feel.  That was clearly the goal as the town looked to have spent a nice sum of money lining the two-lane street with old-fashioned light poles and small ornate signs that marked various landmarks.  Even the little town square that was filled with purple butterfly bushes and crocuses that surrounded a monument of the town’s founder, James T. Wright, had the tidy appearance of overinflated small town pride that would make this the perfect bed and breakfast destination. 

As we stopped slowly at one of the only stop signs in the all of Wrightville, I took in the multitude of antique shops, a little dinner that looked like a throwback to the fifties, and a few signs pointing to a local park, the cemetery, the Baptist church, and the combined elementary, middle, and senior high schools.  A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as we turned down East Street, the houses becoming a little more modern than those on West Street.

“Well at least you won’t get lost here,” Julie said cheerfully as a roll of thunder rumbled outside of our windows.  “East, West, North, and South Street.  All you have to do is know which direction your facin’.”

“Joy,” I muttered as I began to realize that there would be nothing for me in this town.  It would be a waste of two more years of what already was a short human life.  I began to wonder if I really could find the answers that would break my curse.  Maybe it was all just some sort of trick to keep me away from the others like me; to keep me away from him.

“Now the Barnetts have been with the county for a long, long time.  They won’t stand for any sort of antics.  They run a tight ship and I expect to hear only glowing things about you.  Understand?”

“Uh huh,” I answered as the car slowed and turned into the wide driveway of a typical two story southern home, complete with a porch and light blue shutters.  You would half expect a pecan pie to be sitting on the windowsill cooling if it weren’t for the storm that was just starting to spit out giant raindrops. 

I slouched down in my seat while the social worker stepped out of the car to meet a tall, blonde woman wearing what looked like designer jeans, metallic high heels, and a crisp white blouse.  The whole look, though, was thrown off by the foam neck brace she wore, her bright red smile having a pained expression as she greeted them.  “Hi there!  The heavens look like they’re about to open up!”

“Sure do!” my social worker called out as she trotted towards the cover of the porch.  “You must be Caroline Barnett.  I’m Julie Webster from Jones County Human Services.”

“How do you do, Ms. Webster.  Yes, I’m Mrs. Barnett and this is my husband, Earl,” she said motioning towards the sandy haired man that leaned on the doorframe, his tie loosened as if he had just had a long day at the office.  “We are just tickled to have the opportunity to take in another unfortunate child.”

“And we’re pleased that you’re willing to take in our little miss Korrin.  She hasn’t had much luck finding a family that has been able to keep her for too long.  We just hope that she’ll be able to finish off her junior and senior year here in Wrightville.”

“And we expect nothing less from anyone in our little family.  In fact, our little Thomas has only been with us for a year and he’s already brought his grades up to a B average.”

“Oh that’s just lovely, Mrs. Barnett!  If only there were more like you in the county.”

“If only,” she answered, giving a bright smile before her face fell to a grimace.  “Ah, excuse me for being rude, but my neck is startin' to hurt me somethin' awful.  I was hopin’ we could go through the necessary paperwork a little faster than usual.  Doctor wants me to be restin’ as much as possible.”

“Oh, yes!  I’m so sorry, sitting out here chatting your ear off.  What happened to your neck?”

“Car accident.  Some distracted teenager on their cell phone,” she answered, her hand carefully touching her neck brace.  “I was lucky I wasn’t paralyzed.”

Julie gave her a sympathetic look, the kind I rarely ever got from anyone at the county, let alone anyone in my many foster homes.  Sitting up a little higher in my seat, I ignored the continued chatter about foolish drivers and the evils of cell phones focusing instead on the black and white smudge that was Caroline Barnett’s soul.  She’s been touched by Darkness, I thought as a familiar itch crawled across my skin.  Deep within me I felt a horrible yearning to feed off the little remaining Light that struggled to shine under the blackened mess of her dingy soul.  Before the McCullars I would have been able to ignore what felt natural to me, but my willpower was pushed closer to its limits with each little pulse of fading light.

No, I told myself using every technique I had learned from four centuries of resisting my desires.  Feeding and claiming souls, that was my purpose, or at least it was ever since becoming one of the Fallen.  Resisting this primal urge, though, was suppose to be the first step in removing the dark curse I that had twisted me from the creature that I once was.  Looking back up at Mrs. Barnett who was now joined by her husband, I knew that it would be hard to hold back the prickling power that was crying to be released.

A high laugh rang out over the continued rumbles of thunder, Mrs. Barnett’s perfectly done lips forming a wide grin while her blue eyes remained cold and emotionless.  “This is going to suck,” I sighed as I slowly opened the car door and moved towards the group.

Julie waved me forward.  “Hurry up out of that rain!  Now, Korrin, this is Mr. and Mrs. Barnett.  Say hello.”

I gave them both a closer look, noticing that Mr. Barnett’s soul was even darker than his wife’s.  Again, my skin prickled uncomfortably as the thin little wisps of light fought to shine out from the black webs that had grown around it.  “Hello.”

“She’s got odd colorin’,” Mrs. Barnett said sourly, looking me up and down as if I were a dog that was trying to be best in show.  “Where’s her mama from again?”

“She was just a local girl from Cold Spring,” Julie answered with a wave.  “Got pregnant when she was fifteen and never said who the daddy was, but he must not have been from around these parts since her mama was a natural brunette.” 

“I see.  Do we know much about her people?”

“Not much.  Korrin’s mama gave her up right after having her.  She never was quiet right and had to be hospitalized down in Little Rock.  Her folks are still up in Cold Spring but they have no interest in their grandbaby.”

“Mental problems common in the family?”

“Only her mama and those only started after having Korrin.  I’m not sure but I think drugs might have been involved.  She was hallucinating pretty bad in the hospital saying that her baby was the devil and that she had to kill it.  But that’s all in the files I’ll be leaving with you.  Korrin here has been tested for everything and is just fine.”

Mrs. Barnett gave me a cold look, her distaste making her blue eyes even darker.  “Well, no matter.  Let’s get you inside before the wind changes and we get drenched.”  She made a sweeping motion, ushering us towards the door.  “I’ll show you to your room so you can get settled while we finish up the paperwork with Ms. Webster in the kitchen.”

“How old are the other children you’ve got here?” Julie asked as they walked into what was to be my new home.  It was all hardwood and granite from what I could see, the walls papered with some sort of gilded design that seemed to match the beauty pageant pictures that covered the walls.

“Well Thomas is seventeen, he came to us when he was just barely sixteen.  Then there’s my Brandi.  She’s turnin’ eighteen this upcoming summer.  We’re hopin’ to see her off to University of Arkansas on a full scholarship.  She’ll be goin’ for Miss Arkansas next year!”

“Oh my, you must be very proud!”

“We are.  We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect child.”

“Will Korrin be sharing a room with Brandi, then, or will she have her own room.”

“Unfortunately, the house is a little deceiving and we only have three bedrooms.  So she’ll be sharin’ with Brandi as soon as they get the new carpet in later this week.  Until then, all the children are stayin’ in Thomas’ room,” Mrs. Barnett explained, her accent becoming thicker with each little lie she told.  “Here we are!”

I tried to catch Julie’s eye, to see if she could tell that Caroline Barnett was lying straight to her face, but she didn’t look at me.  In fact, she seemed to be avoiding eye contact with me as much as possible.  It must have been the car ride.  She can sense what I am.

“Thomas,” Mrs. Barnett called out as she gave the door a soft knock before pushing it open.  “I have someone you should meet!”

Moving into the room it was obvious that the Barnetts really didn’t care about making a comfortable home for their foster children, despite Mrs. Barnett’s apologies to Thomas’ preferences.  I didn’t even have to look at her to know she was lying as I took in the closet that was missing its door, a worn, secondhand dresser, a stained loveseat, and an uncomfortable looking thin mattress that sat on the floor. 

“Say hello, Thomas, and make our new family member feel welcome while we go finish up in the kitchen,” she said in a sickly sweet voice to the dark haired boy that was sitting on the edge of his mattress.  He barely looked up from his auto magazine to acknowledge her, but Mrs. Barnett didn’t seem to care as she swept out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

For a moment I stood there near the door, taking in what was to be my room and the boy that already lived there.  He was the epitome of a gearhead, his jeans smudged with oil and his work boots worn and stained.  Even the black t-shirt that loosely clung to his muscular chest and arms that came from doing hard labor looked like it had been used to wipe up grease and oil from something in the recent past, but that’s not what I really cared about.  My attention was more focused on the golden gleam that radiate from his chest, the delicate wisps and fibers glowing like diamonds in the sun.  There was only a few veins of black marring his soul, the jagged edges marking a deep anger and hatred that he carried with him.

Again, my skin itched and the black mark on my chest burned.  Rage, though not my true power, could be greatly influenced by my specialty.  I could cause it or feed off it, making the humans bend to my will while they were blind with emotion.  You only had to look into history to see how my power of lust and desire drove many humans to evil due to their jealous, hateful rage.  Casanova in Italy was a perfect example, my influence driving the adulterous spree that ended with bloodshed.  Then there was Helen of Troy, Henry VIII, King David, and even the first humans.  They all had fallen prey to me, giving way to further dark urges that would taint their souls and the people around them.

Trying to push away the urge to release my power I moved towards the closet to begin unpacking my things.  I felt Thomas’ eyes on me as I moved, making my skin burn with untapped energy.  Focus, I reminded myself as I found a few hangers and set to work.  Don’t do anything rash.

“So, you’re the new girl, huh?” Thomas asked from behind me, his voice unable to hide the interest he suddenly developed.

“Yup.  I’m Kory,” I answered, refusing to look at him and be tempted by his soul.  It had been nearly four lifetimes since I had used my power and it was getting hard to ignoring the natural urges that came with being claimed by the Dark.  But he is just a boy.  He is not worth losing lifetimes of work over.

“What did you do to end up here?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“This is the last stop on the cradle to prison express before reaching the final destination.  At least that’s what my social worker told me when the county dumped me here.  Last chance before corrections.”

“What have you done to deserve that?” I asked, finally turning to face him and his nearly pristine soul.  There was nothing on it that would mark any sort of crime that I could think of.

He smiled at me, his deep blue eyes shining mischievously under his mess of dark hair.  I felt my breath catch a little as I took in his angular features and his bright eyes.  He looks just like Belial – I started to think before stopping myself.  I didn’t need or want to think of the demon responsible for my curse, no matter what our history had been.  Yet as I continued to stare at the human I couldn’t help but see the face of the only creature I had ever loved before the Darkness had twisted our features and made us into the demons that we were.

The boy was oblivious to any of the internal struggles I was having as he continued to grin and gave a playful shrug.  “Filled my old school’s halls with dish soap then set off the fire alarm.  The principal wasn’t too impressed with the mess the sprinklers made.”

“And they wanted to send you to juvie just for that?”

He shrugged again, before leaning back against the wall.  “They want to send all of us burdens to juvie.  They just have to find a reason.  So what did you do to get sent here?”

“Supposedly I’m the devil,” I answered, smiling despite the twisted feeling that was growing in my stomach. 

“Religious nuts, huh?  I had some of those.  The Barnetts aren’t like that one bit, though they like to pretend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“We have to go to church every Sunday and they’ll act all pious but…” he trailed off as the sound of the front door shutting echoed down the hall.  He gave me a quick look before turning back to his magazine, his eyes unmoving as we both listened to the loud whispers of Mr. and Mrs. Barnett.

“You know I didn’t want a girl,” Mrs. Barnett hissed, her sickly sweet voice becoming sharp.  “Brandi doesn’t need some freak tryin’ to follow her around and ruinin’ her reputation at school.”

“The county pays more if we have two.  You want to go on that cruise don’t ya?” Mr. Barnett answered, the sound of a can opening breaking the tension.  “That girl won’t be no trouble to Brandi.  None of them are once they learn the rules.”

“This one’s got a nasty look.  I just don’t like it, Earl.”

“Want me to go talk to the little shits?  I have no problem of reminding them of the rules.”

“No.  Not right now.  We’ve got the Walker’s comin’ over in thirty minutes.  I don’t need them makin’ a scene,” she answered, followed by the sounds of pots and pans being moved. 

Glancing to the boy I saw that his eyes were wide and his face looked serious as he continued to strain to hear what our foster parents were talking about over the noise of Mrs. Barnett cooking.  “Alright there, Thomas?”

He looked up at me for a moment a glint of fear and hate in his eyes.  “Last time Mr. Barnett reminded me of the rules I ended up with three broken ribs.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, and he was even sober that time.”

“What do you mean that time?”

“This place is a hell hole, that’s what I mean.  If they didn’t take all the money I get from helping out at Dick’s Auto I would be fucking gone already.  I wouldn’t wait for graduation.”

I watched as his face darkened and his eyes filled with a fiery hate that I had seen on so many men over the centuries.  It was the type of emotion that my kind would devour, guiding the human to follow through with their dark thoughts in order to claim their souls.  Even though my powers were based in desire and lust, I felt the pull of Darkness as the little jagged black lines of the boy’s soul pulsed with energy, waiting for Thomas to do something that would move him further down the path of the corrupted. 

Resist, I told myself moving towards the old couch and dropped carelessly down on it.  “What are you a junior?  A senior?  You’re nearly out of here, Thomas.  Don’t do anything stupid.”

“It’s Tommy and I’m a senior,” he answered, tossing his magazine aside.  “And you don’t have to tell me that.  Believe me I know its better to just keep my mouth shut and finish school, but you’ll see what it’s like living here.  They’re terrible and there’s nothing you can do about it.  You say anything to anyone or fight back they tell some sort of lie to the county and your gone.  Done.  Sure you get out of here, but it’s with a record and at our age maybe even jail time for assault.”

“Has that happened before?”

“The last guy was here a few months before I got placed.  He snapped after Mr. Barnett went after him with a golf club.  I think he got eight years just for defending himself.”

“And no one questions if the Barnetts are doing anything wrong?”

“Why would they?  The Barnetts take in the problem cases.  If you’re here it means you’ve been shunted around and have a file as thick as a dictionary on how horrible you are.  What court is going to believe you over them?”

I frowned, knowing what he said was true.  Once you were labeled as causing trouble everyone treated you as if you already were a criminal.  Yet before I could say anything quick and heavy steps thudded down the hallway.  I looked over at Tommy, his face blank as he cast his eyes towards the ground just as Mrs. Barnett threw open the door.

“Thomas, Korrin.  Reverend Walker and his family will be over in fifteen minutes.  I expect you both to be wearing your Sunday best for dinner.  So get movin’ and change.”

“A reverend?” I asked, the edge of worry that was starting to make my chest feel tight absent from my words.  “Why’s a reverend coming over?”

“Because he’s a family friend,” Mrs. Barnett hissed.  “Now cut the sass and get dressed.”

“I don’t know if I feel up to dinner,” I started slowly, knowing full well that if this preacher and his family truly were devoted to their religion and the laws of the Light they would be able to see past my disguise.  There was never any hiding from the truly righteous, no matter what faith they claimed or god they followed.  It was the belief and living a life that was good and pure that mattered to the Light, and it was this that would allow them to see my black eyes, pointed teeth, and the long black mark that ran down my body.  The last thing I needed was a holy man stirring up the other mortals against me before I had a chance to do anything useful in this body.

“It’s not a question if you feel up to it,” my foster mother cut in, moving towards the few things I had hung in the closet.  “Is this all you have?”

“Yes.”

“Your social worker didn’t tell me you were a slut on top of being a crack-whore’s bastard,” she replied, holding out one of my more revealing tops.  Had I not been so concerned about the impending arrival of the reverend I might have laughed at her comment.  For me, my clothes were modest, but after years of driving men mad with lust and filing women with forbidden desire it was hard to break old habits. 

Just as Mrs. Barnett seemed ready to let more insults fly the front door slammed shut and a high pitched voice called out, “Mama?”

“I’m back here, angel!” she called back, thrusting the shirt back at me as she went to go greet the newest addition to an already cramped house.  I turned back to Tommy just in time to see him smothering a smile. 

“What?”

“A slut and a crack whore’s bastard?  Man, you are going to be in for a treat when you start school.”

“What do you mean?  I’m sure all the children are nice and absolutely delightful,” I mocked in my best southern twang.  “They wouldn’t judge the new girl, now would they?”

Tommy smiled, but before he could say anything else the door was pushed open to reveal a head of blonde curls over perfectly sculpted eyebrows, rosy cheeks, and red lips.  I didn’t need an introduction to know that this was Mrs. Barnett’s lovely daughter, Brandi.  She even had her mother’s cold eyes and a matching look of disgust as she thrust out a ball of pink cloth.

“Mama says you should wear this,” she started, her eyes moving from my head down to my feet.  “And I can see why.  Why all you homeless girls are sluts is beyond me.  It’s like they never taught you the morals of us civilized folk.”

“Brandi, you’re just jealous that some new girl will be stealing the spotlight from your stupid fake titties,” Tommy said quickly.  “Now why don’t you run off after your mama and stop running your reputation in the muck by standing there and bothering us?”

I smiled at the girl’s shocked expression, her eyes narrowing at the boy who was nothing more than a meal ticket to her and her family.  “Better watch it, Thomas.  Wouldn’t want my daddy hearing you talk to me that way.  You know what he does whenever one of you freeloaders gets out of hand.”

For a moment the two teens stared at each other in a tense silence.  The dark lines around Tommy’s soul throbbed painfully while Brandi’s own hate seemed to ooze out from her chest.  If they had been rulers or generals instead of high school teenagers it would only have taken a spark to start the fire of war between them.  Yet thankfully for me they weren’t.  I doubted that any mantra I could repeat would ever be enough to resist the temptation war and all the souls it made ripe for the claiming.

“Brandi!  Can you come here, sweety bug?” Mrs. Barnett called, breaking the battle of wills between them.  The girl gave both me and Tommy one last look before calling out that she was coming.

“Well,” I started as soon as the door shut.  “She’s awfully pleasant.”

“If she wasn’t a girl I would have punched her the day I got here,” he answered as he turned to the closet.  “We better get changed, though.  I have no intention of giving Mr. Barnett a reason to talk us.  Do you want me to step out?”

“Naw, It’s not different than seeing me in a swim suit,” I answered, holding up the pink dress that most certainly had been something Mrs. Barnett had worn when she was pregnant with Brandi.  Slipping it on, it was clear that it would do nothing for my figure.

“Alright.  I’ve never had to share a room with a girl before, so you just let me know,” he answered, pulling off his dirty shirt to reveal a toned stomach and sculpted shoulders.  I watched as he glanced over his shoulder at me, his blue eyes conjuring up the memory from the life I lost and the love that was lost with it.

“You okay?”

“What?” I said, shaking the image of a happy smile and the touch of soft lips against my skin.  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

His eyes held mine for a moment, a wave of regret, desire, and determination flooding through me all at once.  “Well we better head out.  The Barnetts don’t like to be kept waiting.”