Chloe King was a normal sixteen-year-old girl.

She did her homework and got good grades, but she wasn't afraid to ditch class sometimes to hang out with her best friends. She slept at home, but otherwise avoided all human contact with her mom. The usual stuff.

Then she fell from San Francisco's highest tower, and her life changed. For starters, she died. And then, she woke up.

Now Chloe's life is anything but normal: Suddenly guys are prowling around her, she's growing claws, and someone's trying to kill her.

Luckily for Chloe, she still has eight lives to go.

The Fallen

By Celia Thomson

Simon Pulse

Copyright © 2004 Celia Thomson
All right reserved.
ISBN: 0689866585

Chapter Ten

Normal people called the police. That was what normal people did in situations like this with weird notes and death threats and things like that.

Too bad I'm not normal.

It was probably just a joke. Right? Chloe had been terrified in fourth grade when she found a note in her cubby telling her that she'd better "watch out." And that had turned out to be Laura Midlen's idea of funny. But somehow this seemed less amusing than that incident.

My life is in danger? Did that mean someone found out about Xavier? Maybe he was after her? That didn't make sense, though: she hadn't meant to hurt him, and it wasn't worth killing her over. What was the company she kept? Paul? Amy? Nothing strange about them or dangerous...Whoever wrote the note probably meant her new friends: either Alyec or Brian. More likely Brian since Alyec was a known factor, a normal high school kid with roots in the community. She didn't really know anything about Brian besides what he had told her....

Then again, he could also be the "friend" who was warning her. But he hadn't been in the café -- in fact, Chloe didn't really know anyone at the Black Rooster except by sight. When was the note slipped into her pocket? Maybe it wasn't even meant for her.

She checked the locks on the doors several times before going to sleep -- or trying to go to sleep. She felt pretty sure she could handle a daytime attack by a street thug, but a nighttime ambush would be another story.

The next Monday at school Chloe was even grumpier and sleepier than usual. She kept looking up suddenly, jumping at noises, and seeing things out of the corners of her eyes. All for what was probably just a prank. As soon as she got a free period, she went to the newspaper office.

"Hey, Paul," she said, making straight for the couch.

"Chloe," he answered uneasily. He was sitting at the computer, playing some bright-colored and contraband video game.

"I'm wiped. Do you mind?" She threw herself into the couch.

"No. Go ahead." He stood up and played with a pencil for a minute. "I...might have overreacted Friday night....Are we cool?" he finally asked.

Even through her sleep-thick haze, Chloe smiled. Paul actually cared if she was angry at him! Then again, she had a complete right to be.

She raised her arm to give him a thumbs-up.

"Cool." He threw his bag over his shoulder. "Just close the door on your way out, okay? It's already locked."

But Chloe was already asleep.

She woke up perfectly, precisely forty-five minutes later, almost in time for phys ed. Which was really odd because usually once Chloe was out, she was flat out until someone woke her up. The second, warning bell rang and dozens of classroom doors slammed shut, students trapped inside, being forced to learn.

She stretched and yawned and scratched herself, rolling her head and shaking the stiffness out of her shoulders -- she hadn't moved from the position she'd fallen down in, and it wasn't really the most comfortable of couches.

She slumped out of the room, pausing to pick up the obituary sections of the local newspapers lying around and remembering to make sure the door was closed like Paul had said. She started down the hall toward gym, possibly her most-hated class. Although, she considered, maybe I could surprise them with a thing or two. But probably not. The one thing every TV show, book, and comic book had ever suggested about people with special powers was to never reveal them to the outside world. At the worst she could be kidnapped and dissected by the government. At best Mr. Parmalee would insist she go for a drug test.

"Chloe King!"

Alyec was coming down the empty hall. She smiled.

"What are you doing at this end of the school?"

"I am going for my flute lesson," he said, somewhat embarrassed. He held up a small black case. "I have always wanted to learn it, but there was no money or opportunity in Russia."

"Funny, I would have picked you for a boner," she said.

His eyes widened.

"Tromboner? You know? That and trumpet are what all of the popular guys play."

"Well, I am not a normal popular guy. And anyway, if I am so popular, how come you haven't asked to see me since the sea lions?" There was a sexy little smile that he was just hiding. Chloe felt a shiver run through her body. "How's Brian?"

"He's great." Except for that whole lack-of-kissing-and-phone-calls thing.

"Oh yeah? You really like him, huh? I think you're just playing hard to get."

"Awww, what's the matter? Keira not enough for you?"

"Nope," he answered, grinning. Then he leaned over and kissed her. "She is just a stupid little girl," he whispered into her ear, brushing it with his lips.

Although such things had been placed far, far from her mind since -- well, since her period began, Chloe felt the desire she had felt with Xavier rise up through her again. She turned her head so they were cheek to cheek, her lips against his jaw.

"We should go somewhere," he whispered, kissing the tops of her cheeks over and over again.

"Janitor's closet," Chloe breathed, pointing.

They both broke for it. Unlike on TV, this one was filled with actual janitorial stuff -- mops and buckets and bottles of cleanser -- and there was no real room to stand. They looked at it, then at each other.

Chloe giggled. Unlike the time with Xavier, this was playful and fun. Alyec threw himself against the back of the closet so he would bear the brunt of their weight and pulled her in after him as she closed the door.

Everything was very close and warm. She could smell all the disparate aspects of Alyec: his cologne, the fabric softener on his clothes, his toothpaste, the shampoo or gel in his hair, his skin and his breath.

Also Lysol and Mr. Clean, but she tried not to think about that.

He put his hands around her face and kissed her full on the lips, the way she had been aching for Brian to do the other night. He didn't stop, not even to breathe, feeling every corner and surface of her mouth with his own.

The way a girl should be kissed, was Chloe's last coherent thought.

When they stumbled out into the bright light of the hallway later, it was, fortunately, still empty. Alyec had to clap his hand over her mouth once or twice when they were in the closet because she was giggling and making him giggle, too. But no one had come by. She pulled and adjusted her shirt.

"You are one sexy girl, Chloe King," Alyec said, kissing her one last time on the cheek. "That was powerful stuff in there."

She felt pretty sexy. But...

"Well, and now you can tell all your friends that. How you finally cornered Chloe King and you had the time of your life." She smiled weakly.

Alyec frowned. "Do you really think I'm like that? Chloe, I was serious about Keira. She means nothing to me. And I'm not a complete dick."

Chloe nodded. She hoped, of course. In nice-guy competitions Brian had him definitely beat. She reshouldered her bag and then realized Alyec was empty-handed.

"Where's your flute?" she asked.

They looked back into the closet and saw the black case sticking out of a bucket.

Getting out of gym was easy -- as soon as she and Alyec parted, she ran for the nurse's office and made a big deal about how she was bleeding and this was her first period ever and she was cramping and had spent the whole time in the bathroom. The nurse was brusquely sympathetic and promised to speak to Mr. Parmalee before it was officially filed...