Ashton

I sighed. Carter was my best friend, I'd stood by her through all the pain life had given her. When her parents had died when she was in the 4th grade, I'd held her hand throughout the funeral. And when her grandfather, her guardian, had past six months before her 18th birthday, I'd held her as she cried against my shoulder. And everytime some ignorant jerk, male or female, treated her like shit, I was there to protect her. I would give my life to keep her safe.

But now my career was interfering.

I poked my head into the bedroom and said, "Carter, I'll be back in a few hours. I have to go check in. . . someplace."

"Okay, you've got my number if you need to get ahold of me," she whispered, staring at a sheet of paper, the damned letter . . . and the irony of it burned inside of me. and not in a humorous way. I grabbed my jacket and dashed out to my car.

It took only 15 minutes to get to headquarters. It was bustling with people when I walked through the door. I clenched my jaw instinctivly when the director approached me. He had a sinister smile that overwhelmed his features and had always made artic chills go down my spine when I saw him. He wasn't a cruel man, though he was logical, a realist, and at times, a bit harsh. He had dark eyes, and a constant covering of stubble on his chin.

"Special Agent Matthews," he said warmly, placing a guiding arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his office. In less than 6 months I'd gone from being a junior agent traveling the country, to a special agent undercover in my own home town. "How's the girl?" he asked without emotion.

My thoughts instantly flew back to the petite girl sitting on my bed back home. Her wavy brown hair still tousled from sleep. Her amber colored eyes, too large for her face, almost happy. Her bright red lips twisted into the mockery of a smile she'd been passing off since she was 10. "Uh, the girl has been secured and is at my apartment. She's sleeping," I said, hating the faint blush that was creeping up my neck and into my cheeks.

The director nodded and handed me a black folder. "This is your next assignment. You must inform her of what we are, and if possible, persuay her to become an agent. Her powers are such that that they're only seen once an generation, if that. It's a pity her parents didn't get around to imparting the wisdom of her heritage to her. I always knew the old man never would. Her grandfather hated the agency, wouldn't want her near us even if it was best for her."

I nodded and said, "as you wish sir," and tucked the folder inside of my inner coat pocket, then left the agency altogether. I hated this. Hate decieving Carter. I'd known what I was all my life, known what she was since I met her the first day of kindergarten. But I'd been forbidden to tell her until now. I remembered like it was yesterday the conversation with my parents:

"Ashton, come here please," my mother said softly as I played with a Tonka truck on the floor infront of the televison. "We have something we need to tell you." She then picked me up and sat me on her lap. My father smiled and said, "My son, we are a very special type of person. We are called Chthonians. Normal people confuse us with vampires. We are immune to all disease, and heal faster than others. We have superior eyesight at night, we move faster, swifter, our psychic powers are formidable and we can shape-shift, though not till your older." he brushed a piece of hair out of my eyes, then continued, "but sadly, we burn easily in the sun, and after the age of 21, need to consume human blood. We are ruled by an agency called the Watchers. The use their powers to keep peace between ours and humans, but also to keep us in line. To remind us that we are not gods."