The Eleventh Hour

Prologue

It smelled like smoke .

Burning every layer of skin.

Meadow lay on a blazing floor, unable to get up as she stared at the dark ceiling.

Her lungs were clogged with smoke, and her mind swirled so fast she couldn’t even turn it or focus on what lay above her.

Where was she...? How did she end up here?

And... why... couldn’t she breathe...?

Her vision clouded as her eyes stung with the poisoned air, and she could feel the venom filling her lungs and tearing her apart from the inside-out.

Through her blurred sight, she could see the roof of this stranger’s house covered in black streaks, flakes of ash slipping down on her like it was snowing in here.

She knew it was only moments until the ceiling would collapse, and all she could do was lay there, still, unmoving.

Like her whole body was paralyzed.

She felt so helpless... afraid.

She didn’t want to die... Usually, people could accept these things when this happened and give into the darkness.

She couldn’t. No.

She was terrified.

She wanted to cry, but she knew she had to stop herself because she was already depleted of so much oxygen.

This was painful, agonizing. She couldn’t which this moment on anyone, really.

Helpless... suffocating... vision fading back and forth.

Weak.

The only thing possible was to stare at the ceiling, choking as all the fire in the house ate all the oxygen until there’d be nothing left.

Would she die of suffocation? Or would she die from burns?

She doubted she had even a minute left, because she could already feel herself fading.

Someone she knew once told her that death was painless.

Painless.

This wasn’t. It felt like blades of hell fire slicing her skin.

And she hated every second.

She closed her eyes, feeling the fire eat away at her heated flesh.

I don’t... want to die...

Jazzy! someone called into the house, his voice so childish, but so angelic.

A savior...?

He coughed, voice scratching his throat. Where are you, Jazzy? Where are you? Answer me!

Who was... Jazzy?

Was that me?

Why did that name sound familiar?

Jazzy... short for Jasmine...

Was he looking for someone else?

No! No, please. I want to be saved, too. Please, don’t forget about me!

His voice sounded familiar, too, like she’d known him for years, but she couldn’t really remember who he was.

And her lungs ached too much to respond, and she couldn’t scream; couldn’t move.

She was helpless, and he’d probably walk off because he thought she was somewhere else.

Help... she thought. Someone, please. Help me. It hurts so much.

But she heard loud, rapid footsteps, and a shadowed figure came out of the fire like some kind of angel... though she could tell it burned his arms because he was wincing.

He looked around her age... about seven-years... but she couldn’t see his hair or eyes because the fire behind him covered him in shadows.

A silhouette drowned out in complete darkness...

Jazzy! He coughed, running over to her. "Jesus, what’s wrong with you? Why haven’t you gotten out yet?"

I’m not Jazzy, she wanted to tell him, but she wanted to be saved.

Save me... this hurts...

She couldn’t respond, and she saw her reflection in the boy’s eyes as he pressed two of his fingers to her wrist.

But what did he look like? She couldn’t see with all these tears.

And the fire covering her in agony.

She could feel her skin flaking... like it was made of dust.

He cursed under his breath even though they were both too young to know what the words meant. You’re dying. Your heart’s slowing. And he looked around in a panic, only ending up covering his mouth with his shirt. I’ll save you, okay?

How? It wasn’t like he could carry her. And she was dying, anyway. It would’ve been easier to just leave her here, right?

But she nodded, choking as the smoke stung her throat.

Hold still, he said through his shirt, pressing his hand to her forehead.

Something warm emendated from his palm... and for a second, all the pain vanished.

But when she felt something burn her inside, she stared up at the ceiling in horror, watching all the fire in the house swirl around like a hurricane.

She gasped, feeling fear drowning out the pain as the flames skirted around each other faster than she could handle.

She twitched her fingers, breath straining when she noticed it started coming down on her.

The end pierced her chest.

And she screamed.

All the flames burned through her skin, spreading across her body like poison, and the little boy sat there, holding his hand to her forehead as she screamed and cried for the pain to stop.

I’m sorry... he told her. I know it hurts. It’s the only way to save you. You have to be resistant to fire, Jazzy.

"Stop it! she cried, finally finding her voice while writing from under him. The pain scorched her inside, burning through all her organs and she felt like she was covered in venomous lava. It hurts! It hurts! Please!"

It’ll go away, the boy said. I promise. I can make it go faster, but you have to stop moving. Let me touch your head with my other hand.

She kept on crying out, rolling onto one of her sides, then the other, shaking like a live wire.

The little boy managed to hold her still, pressing his hand to her forehead. Go to sleep... he whispered.

Right as something cold came from his palm, it deepened into her skin, clouding her thoughts until her eyes sealed shut without hesitation, and she fell into darkness.

I don’t... want to die...

1

S ixteen or over, the guard at the club said, crossing his arms as he looked down to a fourteen-year-old boy who didn’t seem particularly amused.

Meadow Collins and her best friend Willow leaned further in to listen as well as the other crowd, but Willow’s older brother, Coal remained typing a message to his mom on his phone.

C’mon! the boy at the front of the line said. "That’s not fair! I’m a teenager!"

The guard leaned down, snarling, "Sixteen, or over."

He sighed, stepping out of the way and muttering incoherent curses as he made his way down the street.

Meadow and her two best friends stood at a line outside their favorite club, Delight, waiting to be emitted into the building so they could dance and have fun this Thursday night.

School didn’t start until nine the next day, so Willow said they could stay up late that night.

Next, the guard said, a twenty-something guy stepping up.

Aw... all drama gone. Back to boredom. Blegh.

But right before he checked that guy’s license, a flash of black skimmed across the corner of Meadow’s eye, and she gazed up, immediately curious.

It was a young man with dark, black hair and unbelievably stormy eyes.

He walked past the line with ease and the gracefulness of a dancer, though no one seemed to notice him.

But she snapped out of her state as he headed straight for the front.

Hey! Meadow said, catching everyone’s attention. Get in the back like the rest of us!

He stopped and turned, casting her a curious glance before his lips tilted up, giving her a fox smile as if her argument amused him, but he continued his pervious path without hesitation.

Hey! Meadow said, irritation crawling through her as everyone looking at her, glancing around as if none of them saw him.

He never answered; never looked back.

Who does that guy think he is? Meadow muttered angrily. He’s rude. Asshole.

What guy? Willow piped up, leaning a little out of the crowd to see further down the rally of people.

Meadow’s lips parted, and she waved back to where she saw him.

That guy right there, she said, pointing to him as he cut the line. He just smiled at me.

Who? she looked to where she pointed.

She thrusted a finger angrily at the doors to the club. "Right there, look. He’s cutting the line!"

Her friend scanned the crowd for him but gazed back at Meadow seconds later.

Willow gave her a concerned look. There’s no one there, Meadow.

A sudden chill washed through her, and she stared at the doors to find the mysterious boy passing by the guard and catching no one’s attention.

Was she hallucinating?

She squinted her eyes, still seeing the side of his lips tilted up as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. I feel like I’ve seen him before.

And he vanished into the club.

When they reached the top ten minutes later, Meadow was practically shaking because she wanted to see where he went and ask him a million questions.

If he was real, that is.

She was nosey that way.

Licenses, the guard said then, holding out his palm face-up.

Willow, Coal, and Meadow flashed them their driver’s license at once, and he leaned forward.

He squinted his eyes and looked down at them. Sixteen, sixteen, seventeen. He gazed back up to them and stepped out of the way. No drinking.

They all walked in, ears immediately met by pounding music.

The club was the same as Meadow remembered it; deafening music, hot air, cheap air freshener covering the scent of sweat.

Everyone who was dancing had a partner of some sort, though; clearly none of them were calm because they were either making-out or screaming while jumping together.

Meadow wasn’t much of a party girl, but she did like it here because she came here often. It was a routine now.

Coal had already vanished to get everyone some drinks or sodas, though Willow already started dragging Meadow into the crowd.

But while she was being pulled by Willow, Meadow’s eyes caught onto something.

The mysterious boy... he was walking towards the employee lounge, stepping over to the...

She blinked.

Broom closet?

Was he hiding from someone?

As if he sensed her staring, his eyes met hers, and he smirked before vanishing into the closet.

What the...?

She tugged Willow’s arm with her free hand.

She looked over to Meadow. What?

I saw him again, Meadow responded. I think he’s up to something. I’m gonna go check it out.

She pulled out of her friend’s grip, earning a yelp, and started weaving through the crowd, rolling her eyes when Willow called, "Don’t get killed!"

But she waved back to signal that she heard, and shook her head in disbelief, reaching the end of the crowd.

Willow was... too much sometimes, but she couldn’t be a loner, so she just rolled with it.

When she made it to the last thin line of people, someone bumped into her shoulder, making her stumble as their Coke spilled over the rim of the cup.

Watch where you’re going, idiot, a teen girl hissed before walking off.

Meadow desperately wanted to show her favorite finger but decided against it. You’re the idiot, she muttered in response, mainly to make herself feel better.

When she made it to the broom closet, she raised her hand to knock but paused.

There were voices emanating from the door, muffled, but she could still tell they were male voices.

So, she quietly turned the knob and crouched on the floor before anyone saw her, closing the door silently after.

She could hear the voices now... One of them sounded like a teen boy whereas the other sounded like an older guy. Maybe in his thirties.

Where’s the payment? the younger one asked while Meadow crawled over to an empty box, hiding behind it while she eavesdropped.

I said it’s in the car, the older one said. I need your end of the deal first.

You know I won’t hold to it unless you have what I want, the younger one responded.

Why did he have a minor British accent? It was very faint, but peeked through occasionally when he said specific words. Did the boy move here recently or something?

I told you— His voice cut off within seconds.

Meadow’s brows drew together when the older one inhaled sharply, as if smelling pancakes or incense.

What the hell was he doing?

But she didn’t dare peak, afraid of getting caught.

I smell blood, the older one stated after exhaling, making chills slide down her skin.

The deal? the younger one said, clearly not interested in his distraction. Don’t go finding excuses. Show me the goods.

Give me a second, he responded, footsteps starting toward Meadow. This smells good.

What the hell was this guy on?

In a panic, she looked down at herself to check for cuts but found none.

How would he smell them even...? Was he a freaking dog?

Was there a dead person in here or something?

Also... did he say it smelled good?

There you are, his voice echoed from behind her, making her stiffen.

Before she could scream, she was forced up by her hair, crying out as the roots pulled out from her scalp.

She caught the older man’s hand, hoping to stop the pain but her eyes caught on the younger one.

It was the boy... the one that smiled at her.

The one that no one else had seen.

His eyes darkened at the sight of Meadow, and he shot his gaze up to the one holding her up. Put her down.

Why was he standing up for her? Wasn’t he bad, too?

She cried out when the older man pulled her up higher, the scent of dirt and grime wrinkling her nose.

Oh, God... he smelled horrible.

Did he just take a dirt bath?

Now, the teen boy said, she’s a human. You know the law.

"Human?"

Also... what law?

She’s seen too much then, the man behind her said, making chills slide down her skin.

She felt his tongue glide down her neck, forcing her stomach to turn.

But when she looked up to where the mysterious boy stood, there was no one.

Huh?

But she found her chance, driving her heel into the older man’s shin, making him cry out and stumble forward.

His hand released, and she collapsed on the ground, spinning around to find his eyes on hers...

She’d never seen something so...cold.

You’re going to regret that, he hissed, starting toward her.

She stumbled backward, crying out when her back met a metal crate.

But he stopped suddenly, and she shot her gaze up to find him staring off into space in horror.

What...?

And he suddenly started screaming.

She winced at the sound, but something bright caught her eye, and gazed down to see what it was,

Something bright glistened on his stomach, like a beam of white, and she stood, panicked, seeing a dagger piercing through his gut from behind.

But what dagger... glowed? This looked like a lightsaber shaped into a blade.

She was thrown out of her state then.

Because it was like lava flowed into his veins... when she looked up to him fully, his whole body caught fire while he screamed.

White running through his veins, glowing in his eyes, burning his skin...

Until all that was left of him were ashes drifting off to the ground.

But behind where he stood was the teenage boy, though he was holding the magical knife of fire, looking down at Meadow with a tilted smile.

2

W ha... Meadow said , eyes shooting from the boy, to the pile of ashes, and to the boy again. What...?

The mysterious teen spun the dagger in his hand like a baton, only ending up resting the blade on his shoulder lazily.

Despite his smile, he didn’t look particularly amused.

You ruined my deal, he stated with his brows raised. It’s rude to spy on people, you know.

Meadow managed to push her hands onto the ground and stand despite her scalp aching. Who are you? She glanced around. And where did he go?

He went to hell, the boy responded boldly despite her confused look. "And who are you? You’re not really supposed to see us, so that means you’re not who you seem. He waved to her. What’s your name, then?"

M... Meadow, she responded.

Sounds familiar, he responded, eyes raking her. I’m Ash. Nice to meet you, Meadow.

Your name doesn’t sound familiar, she commented, lying through her teeth. And I’ve never seen you before.

He chuckled as if he could tell she was bending the truth.

What was he? she questioned, staring down at the pile of ash while she rubbed her scalp with her free hand. She looked up to Ash. "How did he burn like that? And when you say hell, you meant that metaphorically, right?"

He burned with magic, Ash stated, tipping his head to the side. But should know that, Princess.

Something cold formed in her chest. No, she said, magic doesn’t exist. Are you messing with me?

His eyes searched her expression thoughtfully. Curious.

Where are you from? Meadow said then. You have an accent.

His lips tilted. I do?

Yeah, she responded, you sound British.

He smiled, though not a kind one.

Who are you? Meadow questioned. "What are you?"

He leaned forward and booped her nose, making her draw back in shock. "I know you, he said then, as if just realizing. Oh, yes, it all makes sense now."

"I honestly don’t know you, she responded. And don’t touch me."

You will, he said, ignoring her second comment. Tomorrow.

She blinked. What?

See you, Meadow. And he started to the door, but she caught his arm, making him look back to her.

Hold on, she said almost too quickly. I don’t understand.

And I have demons to kill, he responded. Do you honestly mind?

She looked down to where she held his wrist, letting go almost angrily.

He waved. Bye. And he disappeared outside the door.

She stared after him, confusion coiling inside her.

After she regained a little of her thought process, she ran after him by darting out the door.

Only to find him gone.

How could he have left the entire building? He left two seconds ago!

After she took a deep breath, she made her way back to Willow and Coal who were both dancing in the crowd.

Well... Willow was. Coal was just standing there and watching her in amusement.

His eyes shifted to Meadow when she stopped next to Willow, and he bumped Meadow’s shoulder. Find him?

Did Willow tell you?

About invisible man? He nodded. Yep. So did you find him?

She shifted her weight onto her other foot. Yeah.

Odd.

She gave him a quizzical look. "Did you seriously not see him?"

Both of them shook their heads.

Meadow stared back at the broom closet where she encountered the mysterious boy.

Who was he?

Meadow couldn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning, pulling the covers on and off herself.

Eventually she just stared at the ceiling, knowing she couldn’t fall asleep if she tried.

The wind howled against her window, sounding like wallowing ghosts; the sounds of the tree blowing outside her room cracking against the walls like hail.

She covered her ears, rolling onto the other side of the bed.

What did he mean by I’ll see you tomorrow?

Was all this just a dream?

It would make sense... but if it was... this was one long dream.

The floorboards creaked at the foot of her bed, making her shoot up, gasping.

At first, she saw nothing... but when she squinted her eyes, there was a shadow standing on the other side of the room, leaning on the corner of the wall.

She fumbled with the lamp on her nightstand, watching the figure cautiously when she switched it on.

But it didn’t work.

The power’s out, love, the figure said. There’s a storm outside, as you can tell.

She squinted her eyes, voice raising slightly. Ash?

He pressed his finger to his mouth, motioning for her to be silent.

His grey eyes glowed white with the broken moonlight, though they searched around her room thoughtfully.

No, no, no...

This wasn’t real. It was a dream. He wasn’t real. Demons weren’t real.

She was going insane.

What are you doing here? she questioned sharply. Why are you in my room?

You’re being abnormally loud, Angel, he stated, eyes focused on her now. Why don’t you use your ‘sneaking skills’ and be quiet for a bit, okay?

Mom, she called, making him narrow his eyes. MO—

A second passed, and she found herself lying on the bed, Ash on top of her while he pressed his hand to her mouth. "I said, quiet."

She breathed heavily through his hand, struggling from under him.

I’m not going to hurt you, he said, okay? So, if you want me to let go, be quiet.

Her voice muffled through his hand.

What? he said.

She struggled from under him.

Scream for your mom, he said, and I’ll vanish. I know you want answers, that’s why I came.

Really? That’s why he came?

She kind of did want answers, though.

Just to make sure she wasn’t going insane.

And if he did anything bad, she could always scream, right?

She looked him over worriedly but nodded.

He slowly took his hand away, testing to see if she’d scream.

She didn’t.

He smiled in response, but sat on her bed, still straddling her hips, though his attention was focused on her room; as if this place was somehow fascinating to him.

What are you doing here? she questioned.

I said I’d be back, he stated, focused on her now, did I not?

No... she said, trying not to focus on how he was straddling her right now, "you didn’t specify my room."

He smirked. Yeah, that would’ve been good, wouldn’t it?

How did you know where I live?

He smiled slightly, tipping his head to the side as if studying her from another angle. I asked your friend.

Willow? Meadow questioned, shocked.

He shrugged. Possibly.

Her brows drew together, stomach coiling with confusion.

Why are you here? she said quietly, trying to sit up but his weight kept her down.

I wanted to see you, he stated as if this was a normal thing to do. You’re quite intriguing, you know. I never knew a girl who could get a vampire off herself so fast and easily.

She stared.

"Vampire?"

Right, he said.

She shook her head, rubbing her temples as if she were getting a headache. That wasn’t real.

His brows arched. In denial?

She shook her head, relaxing below him as she came up with a logical explanation. I’m dreaming.

He laughed softly, sliding off her bed. If you want to believe that, go right ahead.

Okay. And she stuffed a pillow under her head, closing her eyes as she rolled onto her side and hoping he would vanish.

His footsteps padded away.

Oh, thank God.

But almost a second later, she heard rustling, forcing her eyes open.

She spun onto her other side, seeing Ash shuffling through her desk.

What are you doing? she quizzed.

Looking through your stuff, he answered boldly, and picked up a book, staring down at it thoughtfully.

He looked at her then, showing her the book. I see you’re into math.

That’s for Algebra, she stated. And stop going through my stuff. I’ll have to clean my room.

A smile. But you’re dreaming.

Confusion swirled inside her.

Did he just admit it? Was she dreaming?

Where’s your bookshelf, Meadow? he wondered curiously, stepping all over her room to look for it.

She blinked. "Why on Earth would you want to know that?"

He smirked at her. It’s in the closet, isn’t it?

And he walked to her closet, rolling open the door and crouching down to see what books she had there.

Meadow glanced around.

It seemed real.

Dire... he said, naming the titles while tossing them across the room, Forever Young... All romances, huh? Some things never change.

Her brows pinched together, deciding to stay in bed. What are you talking about?

He stood back up, walking to some drawings that were lazily pinned to the drywall and gestured to them. Did you draw these?

She waited a moment before responding, Yeah....

He examined the photos thoughtfully. You’re quite the artist, aren’t you?

She was silent, questioning herself internally.

They all seem like the same guys, though, he stated, moving to another one.

I see them all in a dream, she explained, wondering why she felt like she needed to say that.

I see... Ash stated, looking at another picture with a realistic human man on one side, the other was a detailed drawing of a wolf. Anything else you want to tell me?

She was stunned at the odd question. Uhm....

He turned to her then, smirking with mischief. C’mon, you’re dreaming. Can’t hurt.

Was she? She wasn’t sure of this anymore.

I don’t remember anything before I turned eight, she stated honestly.

She felt like he had to know, though she didn’t know why.

He looked her over. Curious. Very, very curious.

She shook her head. Not really. My mom said I had a really bad seizure.

Ah... he trailed off the realization as if he didn’t believe this, and sat on the bottom-left corner of her bed. Anything else I should know, Meadow?

She shook her head, still sitting a couple feet away from him.

He tipped his head to the side. Do I look familiar? At all?

She nodded, being honest this time.

Who do I remind you of? he wondered curiously.

Her eyes skimmed the room for a moment before they caught on one of her more recent drawings, and she pointed to it. Him.

Ash stood then, stepping