mobius files: pyree chp 1 pt 4

Nikarah ran out of the ally between the restaurant and the building next door; and ran straight into someone, the force knocking her to the ground. Her head hit the pavement with a loud crunch, making her teeth clatter, squeezing her eyes shut. Why didn't she stop it? Nik wondered why she hadn't; she the speed and reflexes, but whatever had hit her – she was unaware of it.
"Are you all right?" a voice asked anxiously, an annoyingly familiar voice.
Nik opened her eyes to see a tanned face staring down at her. The boy extended his hand to help her up, surprised to find how easy she was to lift. "I'm fine!" she snapped, "no thanks to you." She ran a hand through the hair at the back of her head, hiding her fingers in the shadows as she caught the sight of red.
Scott grabbed Nik's wrist, seeing the blood smeared over her fingertips. "No you're not – that's blood!" He reached for her hair, but she stopped him, raising her forearm to block his.
"Yes I am." She pushed her second hand through the blond tangle. "No blood. See?" It was true – there was not a drop on her.
The boy still looked uncertain, staring at her suspiciously. "Fine," he said at last, narrowing his eyes, "what were you doing then?"
"The alleys back there get tagged a lot; I had to scare away the kid with red spray-paint." They glared at each other, Nik knowing that he didn't quiet believe her.
The door to the restaurant opened behind them and a voice called out, "Scott! There you are. I was wondering where you had disappeared off to." The man walked towards them, his daughter following after, her attention focused on an ipod.
"Hey dad," said Scott.
His father came to stand by him; they were as tall as each other: about six three to six four, though the boy might have been the taller of two. The older man extended his right hand. "And you are Miss . . . ?" he asked Nik.
Nik took his hand and shook it, still uncomfortable using her right hand but used to it. "Blaise, Nikarah Blaise."
"Good evening Miss Blaise, I'm Stephen Harper. You might see me around town; I'm the new deputy commissioner at the precinct."
Nik glanced around, wanting to be inside, not standing outside talking. As she did so she missed the exchanged knowing look Stephen gave his son. Scott glared down instantly and Stephen grabbed his arm, holding tightly and whispering in his ear. Scott pulled free from his grip and stood near his sister, arms crossed in front of his chest. Nik turned back to them, instantly seeing the tension between the small family.
"That's my son Scott," Stephen continued, introducing them. "And the little girl is Megan."
Despite the headphones stuffed into her ears, Megan heard him. "I'm not little!" she shrieked. "I'm ten years old and five feet tall; I am not little."
"Shut up Meagan," Scott sneered. "No one cares." Megan stuck her tongue out at him and went back to her music, mouthing the words I want your psycho, your vertical stick. Scott went and leaned against a black Mercedes, huffing, looking about ready to kill something.
"Is he all right?" Nik asked.
"He's fine," replied Stephen, waving him off. "He just hates moving halfway across the country." He smiled to try lightening the mood. It didn't work.
"Excuse me," Nik said. "I have to get back to work, nice meeting you all." And then she walked back inside the restaurant, leaving them all to themselves.
Stephen said good night to her as she left, then got into the black Mercedes, driving off down the dark damp street into the night, and the new life Boston had given to them. A life that would change their lives forever.