Emma: Book 1

Reassignment

“Iiiiiiii-aaaaaaaaaaann!”

I bolt upright, my head thwacking a very hard surface.

“Ouch!” I cry, my hand jumping to my forehead as I carefully lay back down. “Holy crap! That hurts!”

Even after two and a half weeks of sleeping here, I still forget that I’m at the Plaza Hotel, in this bed. It’s really disconcerting when you’ve slept in a twin-sized bed for the past eight years.

A disheveled blond head leans over the top bunk to yawn sleepily at me.

“Jeez, Ian,” Chris says, “I think you bruised my back.”

“Oh, shut up,” I mutter, tenderly rubbing my smarting cranium.

“Ian!”

I raise my head and see Julianna sauntering into the room through the bathroom, where this room connects to another.

“Hey, Jules,” I greet.

The excited redhead perches her skinny frame on the end of my bed.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” She bounces on the bed, knocking on the wooden board under Chris’ mattress.

“You’re right,” I respond. “My brain is now dysfunctional due to hemorrhaging and massive trauma.”

“Well, why’d you hit your head so hard?” She teases.

I groan. “Indeed.”

Chris chuckles from above and thuds onto the floor beside my bunk. He looks at me and Julianna. “So what’s the big news?”

“We’re being reassigned!” She shouts joyously. “No more stupid Georgia!”

I shake my head. “I never understood your hatred toward the Peach State.”

“Where we headed?” Chris asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“We don’t’ know yet,” Julianna, her face falling, “but we have a meeting with the Council in twenty minutes.”

“Crap! Jules, it takes ten minutes just to get there!” Chris exclaims, dashing into the bathroom.

I look to Julianna. “Yeah, you know it takes Chris half an hour to get read!”

“I heard that!” He retorts, flushing the toilet and coming back out clad in only his boxers.

Julianna cringes and stands up, saying, “I think I’ll go check on the others.”

I chuckles as she makes a face at Chris on her way out. The stocky blond teenager still standing in the bathroom doorway stretches and asks me why we’re being reassigned. I shrug and head past him to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Julianna returns, and the three of us meet up with the three others at the end of the hallway.

“Good morning, children!” Meredith greets us, pushing back her fading blond hair with a skinny black headband.

“Morning, Meredith,” Chris smiles.

“Hey, Mom!” Julianna replies, nodding a hello to her blond twin sister.

I wave to them over everyone’s heads.

“Did you sleep well?” She asks politely.

Nate runs a hand through his already-tousled dark hair. “Can we multitask, and walk and talk simultaneously?”

“I suppose,” Meredith smiles. “We don’t want to be late!”

The six of us take off for the elevator at the center of the Plaza Hotel, which is cleverly in the middle of the Plaza. It’s a huge metroplex that extends from deep below the surface of the Earth to roughly four floors above the surface. Located in northern Greenland, the Plaza has existed as long as life here on Earth has, but it’s not your average life forms that reside here.

With that said, I have a confession: I’m not human. I’m psychic.

It’s a curse, really—a side effect of having mixed lineage. Descendants of angel fathers and human mothers, psychics have the ability to glimpse future events, but we can’t keep them from happening. We merely show and tell—or helpless watch and then react. Being half-mortal and half-immortal—being semortal—sucks.

I mean, when compared to all sixteen types of mystical creatures (well, fifteen—dragons are extinct), next to vampires, being psychic is like being the redheaded stepchild—although we are one of the few types that can mingle with humans due to out physical resemblance. Thank goodness, too, because psychics are the most common type of mystical creature.

Because we resemble humans so, we are eligible to enroll in this program called the Reach Out Program, or ROP for short. It’s basically an opportunity for certain human-like mystical creatures to live openly among humans—at least according to the Mystical Creatures Pact, the joint agreement among creatures of all mortalities, regardless of magical abilities. Its purpose is to hold us all accountable, and although it says the ROP was created to encourage MC (mystical creature)-human contact, we all know it’s because of crowd control. They only have so much space at the Plaza, though we’re all under the same rules.

Anyway, the ROP is supposed to further peace between MCs and humans—which is ironic because most humans don’t even know we exist. What peace is there to keep?

Of course, there is the peace among all the MCs you have to consider. But that’s what the League is for. Cleverly titled the League of Mystical Creatures, the League is comprised of three divisions: The School for Mystical Creatures, The Department of Justice, and the League Legion. It’s mainly self-explanatory—the School teaches, the DOJ punishes, and the Legion enforces and protects.

One plus to being in the ROP is that you don’t have to worry as much about League-related issues. Your concerns are human related, and I prefer those any day.

The elevator deposits us on the top floor, and we walk down another short hallway and enter a small office.

The receptionist smiles at us and encourages us to take a seat on the couches against the walls.

“Not all the Council Members are back from breakfast,” she explains conversationally.

We comply and sit down.

Lillian sighs and picks up an issue of People to thumb through the torn pages. “This is dumb,” she complains. “Why do we have to be reassigned mid-school year? Couldn’t they wait another semester?”

Nate snorts. “Like the Council cares what time of year it is.”

“Besides, what if we go somewhere exciting?” Meredith offers. “Then, you’d be wishing we’d reassigned earlier.”

Lillian rolls her eyes. “I just hate moving. That’s all.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chris questions joining their conversation. “I just hate that then Council is so slow. I mean, come one! How long does breakfast take?”

“You’re so impatient,” Julianna comments. “Maybe you should try a little yoga. It’ll calm you down.”

Chris stares at her like she’s gone crazy.

“Or not,” she continues, reaching for a magazine.

I sit there, sharing a couch with Chris and Julianna, and watch Meredith, Nate, and Lillian discuss our reassignment further.

In a way, Lillian has a point. We can’t just leave Georgia halfway through the school year—especially since Nate is about to graduate. But he’s right, too. The Council couldn’t care less that now is inconvenient.

The Council is basically the League’s management. They make sure everything in the League runs smoothly, and they have the ability to change or make laws. They’re similar to a congress or parliamentary. It’s prestigious, and becoming a member usually requires years of training and experience.

Each group of mystical creatures has one representative as a Council Member, so the Council is relatively small. It has fifteen members and one Head, who would be equal to a president, then, or a king.

Chris suddenly stands and goes back to the receptionist, pestering her about the Council and breakfast. Fortunately, his impatience doesn’t bother her.

“I think the better question would be why we are being reassigned at all.” Julianna cuts in. The League hasn’t been compromised.”

“At least not that we know of,” Nate counters.

Lillian nods. “Maybe a journalist hit a few red flags.”

“Or perhaps the Council merely wishes to reassign you.”

The six of us look up to see Patric, the Head of the Council, standing in the doorway to the meeting room.

“Patric!” Meredith exclaims, smiling and standing to give him a hug.

“Hi, Meredith,” he replies, returning the embrace. “How is the crew doing?”

“They’re doing well,” Meredith answers, adding, “They’re a little bummed about the reassignment, especially with Nate, Lillian, and Julianna one semester way from graduating.”

“Oh,” Patric frowns. “Sorry about that.”

Nate shrugs. “I’m sure we’ll survive.”

Patric grins. “Yes, well, why don’t you all join us? I believe I can explain these matters better with the assistance of the Council.”
We file in and sit at the end of the long table.

“Good morning, everyone,” Patric greets, taking his seat at the other end. “Today’s topic: this team’s reassignment.”

“According to our records, you’ve been in Georgia for…nine years,” Jerry, the Psychic Council Member, says, flipping through the ROP folder. “It’s time for reassignment.”

“That’s it?” Lillian questions. “We’re being uprooted because of the time?!”

Jerry gives her a small smile. “Well, staying much longer would compromise the League.”

She groans, and Meredith cuts in, asking, “Where are being reassigned to?”

Jerry frowns. “Uh…”

“Chicago,” Patric answers. “We weren’t completely sure until this morning, so it’s not in your portfolio yet.”

“Chicago?” Lillian scoffs.

Julianna shakes her head. “At least it’s not Georgia.”

“Will we need to follow up in Georgia?” Nate asks, ignoring the twins’ comments.

“No,” Patric replies. “All engagements and obligations have already been taken care of.”

“There’s no way I can transfer to a different UPS office, is there?” Chris asks, ticked about losing his job.

“Sorry, Chris.” Patric said. “No, we had to modify your records, but if you’re in need of employment, I’m sure the Springfield Outpost would gladly hire you.”

“Great, a two-hour drive to work,” Chris grumbles. “I think I’ll opt out.”

I chuckle as Meredith asks for more details pertaining to our new Chicago lives.

“Well, you’ll actually be living in the suburbs…about an hour south of Chicago. League movers have already moved your things. The floor plan is almost identical, so everything will be placed where they used to be.

“Also, you won’t have to start high school over. Since you all are older, these will be your last high school years. I’d tell you to make the most of them, but that would be pointless. You’ve had plenty of schooling.

“Now, that’s not to say you’ll be exactly continuing your education in Georgia. Nate, you are still a senior, and you as well, Lillian. However, the rest of you are juniors—I apologize to you, Julianna, as this will be difficult to explain.”

“Damn straight!” Julianna explodes. “Are you kidding me? I was enjoying my senior year!”

“Julianna!” Meredith hisses.

“What, Mom? This is totally unfair!?” Julianna shouts, her cheeks turning the same deep red of her hair.

Patric holds up a hand. “Like I said, I apologize, Julianna. It isn’t fair, but as Nate said earlier, I think you’ll survive.”

Julianna folds her arms across her chest, sulking. Chris glances at me, his eyes full of annoyance. I shake my head.

“Hey,” I whisper to her, “Maybe we’ll have a class or two together. That hasn’t happened in ages.”

Julianna huffs. “Yeah, I guess that would be okay.”

“Now,” Patric says, “Is there anything else?”

“Is the closest outpost Springfield?” Meredith asks.

“Yes.” Patric replies.

“And there aren’t any other teams in the area.” Jerry adds. “Because Chicago has always been a high-traffic area, we usually only have one team there at a time.”

Patric explains. “We figured you could use a break from the League, what with your collective past and all.”

“How thoughtful,” Meredith smiles. “It sounds nice—the breathing room, that is. We appreciate it.”

Patric nods, and Jerry replies, “We hope you enjoy your stay in Chicago. I believe the Council has no more to say.”

“Like they said much,” Chris whispers to Julianna.

She snickers as her twin rolls her eyes, commenting, “Shut up, Chris.”

“Best of luck,” Patric concludes. “An ROP representative will gladly assist you further.”

The six of us stand again and retreat to the waiting room. The receptionist tells us to wait a moment, and several seconds later, Jerry emerges with the ROP folder in his hand.

“All your new information is in here as well as directions to the Springfield outpost. You should find everything in order. Your plane will leave tonight after dinner, so please have all your things packed and ready to go no later than five thirty. Again, the Council wishes you all the best of luck. We will keep in touch.”

Meredith takes the portfolio. “Thank you, Jerry.”

He nods and goes back in the meeting room. The receptionist tells us we can go back to our rooms now, so we leave and start toward the elevator.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Chicago.” Nate remarks, thumbing the down button for the elevator.

“I don’t think any of us has,” Lillian responds, leaning against the wall.

“Hm,” Meredith says, skimming out folder, “You will be attending Naperville High School…It’s only ten minutes from our new house.”

“Yippee.” Lillian waves her hands about, disinterested. “Freaking League is screwing us over.”

“I’ll say!” Julianna cries. “I have to be a junior again. What’s up with that?”

“And their reasons suck.” Chris adds.

Nate shakes his head. “You guys are so hard to please!”

I chuckle.

“Indeed,” Meredith says. “And what’s up with this elevator? It’s super—”

The elevator dings open, and for a moment, the six of us just stare at it.

“Well, come on,” Nate commands. “Let’s go!”

We file in, and Lillian complains about Chris being too close to her. He takes a step closer to annoy her, and Nate thwacks the back of Chris’ head.

“Behave,” Meredith intervenes. “You kids act like you’re all about eight years old.”

“Maybe we are.” Julianna snaps crossly.

“Oh, relax,” Meredith soothes, “Where’s your adventurous spirit, Julianna? Isn’t Chicago on your list of places you wish to visit?”

Julianna sighs, giving her mom a side glance. She breaks down and smiles. “Yeah, it is.”

“See?” Meredith smiles, too. “It’s not the end of the world.”

Lillian rolls her eyes. “Yet. I don’t want to go.”

“But you will,” Meredith counters. “It’ll be better than staying here.”

“True,” Lillian agrees, glancing at Nate and Chris. “At least we’ll have our space and privacy back.”

Nate smiles. “Meredith, you’re genius.”

She chuckles. “How so?”

“You remind us how bratty we are.” Chris cuts in.

Nate thwacks him again and says, “You always know what to say.”

Meredith laughs. “For being so old, the lot of you acts like you’ve never been through this.”

We sheepishly grin at her.

“Gratefulness,” Julianna says quietly. “Why do I feel like I’m in Sunday School?”

I chuckle.

“What do you think, Ian?” Meredith asks suddenly. “I don’t recall a single remark out of you.”

I shrug. “I mean, I’m not overly sad or anything. It’s just…what happens to us. We’re not human, but we live like they do, so we forget how our lives really work. It shouldn’t be surprising or disappointing…but it is.” I nervously shake my bangs in my eyes and twist the stud in my left ear, the others just staring at me. “What?” I ask uncomfortably.

“Nate was wrong.” Julianna says, grinning up at me. “You’re a genius.”

Lillian nods in agreement. “That was almost poetic.”

Chris shakes his head, groaning. “The tall silent one turns out to be a poet. Of course!”

I feel my face redden. “Guys, it didn’t even rhyme.”

Nate chuckles. “Plus, I’m sure I could be a better poet.”

Meredith laughs. “What a wonderful thing to be proud of.”

“Well, Mom,” Lillian begins. “Guys were the poets back in the day. It was considered a mathematical challenge, so a poet would prove himself a man by—”

“Okay, okay,” Meredith says as the elevator doors slide open. “It’s manly to write poetry. I doubt a high school boy believes that.”

She winks up at me, and I twist the stud in my ear again, a smile playing on my lips.

“Ha!” Nate laughs. “I think I’ll write a poem just to prove you wrong.”

Meredith rolls here eyes. “Well, why don’t you pack first? Our bags have to be ready by five thirty.”

Nate nods and challenges, “Whoever’s packed last pays for dinner!”

“Oh, you’re on!” Chris whips back, taking off down the hallway.

Nate pushes past the twins, sprinting after Chris. “I’m way too broke to lose!”

Julianna rolls her eyes. She glances up at me and says, “They haven’ prove themselves men yet.”

Lillian punches her sister’s arm and shouts, “Last one to the room gets locked out until lunch.” She sticks out her tongue and takes off after the boys.

Julianna sighs in exasperation. “And neither has Lillian.”

“I think I’ll use your suitcase, little sister!” Lillian shouts back.

“No, you won’t!” Julianna shrieks and zooms off, easily overtaking her twin. Lillian kicks it into third gear and catches up again. They run neck and neck back to their room, pushing and shoving the whole way.

Meredith glances at me, pulling out her room key.

I shrug again.

She laughs and stops walking to enter her room. I continue to mine and Chris’ rooms, quickly opening the thick door.