Tom Residence

Kassie Tom awoke to a beautiful Californian morning. She stretched her arms as the sun came through her bedroom window. She reached over to her night table for her watch, but noticed it was missing.

“Who…?” she asked, quickly remembering Patrick Donavon borrowing it the day before.

She quickly eyed the bed on the opposite side of the room. He was gone. She was disappointed, hoping that she could have stolen a peek at him.

“Knock it off, Kassie!” she told herself. “He’s a bodyguard.”

She got up, and noticed the light was on in the bathroom. She could also see he was walking around, and decided to get her watch.

Kassie got up from her bed and headed to the bathroom. “Do you have my watch?” she called out.

“Yes,” came the response from behind the door.

Kassie excitedly opened the door, and stopped as she realized she was getting herself into an embarrassing situation. She stood looking at Patrick in nothing but boxer shorts.

“I am so sorry!” Kassie pleaded, turning around. “I didn’t think you…”

“It is all right,” he said. “I usually never wear more than this in the morning. I have never lived with a woman before, so I guess I have a few bad habits I need to be rid of.”

Kassie turned back around. “I live and learn,” she concluded. “I assure you it’s no put down for you. I… my family – my mother especially – have been strict on modesty.”

“I understand,” he said, finishing combing his hair. “It won’t happen again. Is everything all right with your mother and her pregnancy?”

“I am on top of you – ” Kassie stopped and covered her face in embarrassment. “I am on top of things. Things. The baby is just such a shock.”

Patrick grinned. “Messing up your words? Something on your mind?”

“I better leave,” she said, turning around quickly. “I’ll knock next time. You can give me my watch after you’re done.”

Patrick nodded, and shook his head as she left, still smiling.

Robert Carlyle and Darla Tom were both already in the kitchen. Darla was still distraught over the whole situation.

“What is this so-called plan you’ve been planning?”

Robert smiled. “It is really simple. And it is fool-proof.”

“Well…?” Darla insisted.

“First, since Kassie is already fully believing you, it is Patrick we’re worried about. That man could easily lead your daughter to sway her opinion. We’re focused on him.”

“So what do we do?” Darla urged.

Robert leaned over to Darla’s ear and whispered his plan. As Robert finished, Darla pulled away from him.

“Oh, my God…” she said. “That could actually work. But it is a terrible lie. I can’t keep lying and lying about this baby.”

“You have to!” Robert insisted. “Do you want the secret that you slept with me to come out? What would your church friends think when word comes out? That Darla, Mrs. Religious, had been sleeping around?”

“Stop!” Darla pleaded. “It is more than that.”

“What would your daughter think? She must think the world of you.”

Darla thought. “What about God? Lies like these don’t disappear in his eye.”

Just then, they heard someone come downstairs. Robert looked over to the stairs and saw Patrick come down.

“Patrick’s coming!” Robert announced. “Are you with me? I’m going ahead with the plan. You either follow along, or tell the truth. You decide. Either way, Patrick is going to shocked. What do you have to say?”

Darla looked at Robert, and then to an ever-approaching Patrick. She pushed her hair back with her fingers as she was tormenting herself with the decision.

Patrick footsteps got louder. “Well?” came Robert.

Darla had to decide. She needed to decide right away!

Evans Residence

Gillian Evans shot out of bed as soon as her alarm began to screech. As if there was a plan set in her mind, she got up and shut off the annoying machine.

“I need to see Giovanni,” she said, picking up the red halter-top and black leather pants. “I have some questions…”

After she was dressed, she stuck her head out from her room. No one. She didn’t want Addy to pop up and ask her where she was going. “I’m not going to let my crone of a mother push my life away from what I want,” she concluded, sneaking across the hall and down the stairs.

Gillian got to the exit, and slipped on a pair of sleek black-heeled shoes and opened the door. She took a final look behind her and left.

Seconds later, Addy emerged from the kitchen. She crept up to the door, wearing a slimming black ensemble.

“You greedy little vermin…” Addy scowled, knowing very well where her daughter was going. “Whether it be today, or tomorrow, you’re going to get something to put you in your place.” She moved back into the kitchen, and observed a photo of Eric.

“Where does she get her vengefulness?” she asked aloud. “When I think of it, she is more like you every day. Stubborn. And look where it got you.” Addy wiped a tear from her eye.

King Estate: Main Mansion

Julian and Constance King sat around the magnificent dinner table eating. They sat on opposite side, and spoke nothing. Henderson, the head servant, came in with a letter.

“This was express delivered from Ireland, sir,” Henderson said, placing an envelope on the table before Julian. “It’s from your daughter, Mrs. King.”

Constance placed her fork on her place. “There goes my appetite – and my day.”

Julian ignored her and hurriedly tore open the white envelope. “What has my darling sent me today?” he said lovingly.

“Asking for money, I’m sure. Tell she can stay in Ireland.”

Julian slipped out the handwritten note. “Let’s see what she has to say: ‘Dear mother and father. I finished my second year in Paris, and just turned 20. My grades were quite good, as you may have already received word.’ Yes we did.”

“Keep going,” Constance said, unenthused.

“Alright. ‘I spent the entire summer in Ireland, and it is absolutely magnificent. I have decided to continue my studies here, and will notify you of any important happening. Love, Ivy.’” Julian placed the paper on the table.

“Nothing of her coming back home?” Constance said, invigorated.

Julian shook his head. “Too bad.” He paused. “Why are you so stuck on despising John and Ivy so much, and yet Adam – the only one of our children you’ve shown the slightest interest in – was convicted of a violent offence.”

“He didn’t do it,” Constance defended.

Julian shrugged. “If it weren’t for his last name, I would leave him in jail. He should have been more like John. He knows how to get around in life. And Ivy has always been a wonderful manipulator. Much like me.”

“All of them are poison.” Constance got up and left the room (something she does all too often). “Just keep them away from this town.”

Consuelos Residence

Mateo Consuelos awoke to the sounds of the radio drifting through the house. The house itself felt different; as if it was missing something.

Skye Lore was listening to the radio intently. She had been on the same talk station for the past two hours, and she had heard nothing.

Within minutes of her turning off the radio, Mateo came into the kitchen. “How long have you been listening to the radio?”

“Hours,” Skye shrugged. “So far, there has been nothing.”

Mateo nodded. “I don’t think the press would know yet. The police just arrested my brother yesterday evening.”

“You get the paper, right?” Skye said. “Maybe there’s something in there.”

Mateo agreed and left to retrieve it.

Skye’s mood changed as soon as he was alone. Her eyes began to glow lightly. “God help anyone who crosses my path…”

She remembered what she had said the night before: “I feel like two people. I’m not Skye, but her presence is trying to be made known… And this ‘Skye’ will take over her rightful mind if something isn’t done quickly. I need more power. Or else her memories will flood in, and I will no longer have control…”

It was true. And something needed to be done.

“Don’t be mad,” Mateo said uneasily as her brought the paper into the kitchen. “This is bad. Very bad.” He threw the paper in front of her.

“Oh, no!” Skye moaned, feeling angry. “Who the hell wrote this?”

The headline in The Presence Chronicle ‘Murder! Demons! Prophecy!’ started them both in the face. Skye could feel an uncontrollable anger build inside her.

“Don’t worry,” Mateo said. “They didn’t print our names. And all that bull my brother was spewing about you being possessed by demons? I’m afraid he fell off the sanity train a long time ago.”

Skye faked a smile. She knew damn well Dean was telling the truth – the whole truth. She needed to know who got hold of such detailed information.

“Who wrote it?” Skye asked, too angry to look at the black text a second longer.

“It was – ” Mateo scanned “ – Brianna Huber. She sounds familiar. She’s…” he pondered a second, then it hit him like a ton of bricks. “My neighbor!”

Skye knew right then and there what she needed to do. “She must be destroyed.”

Mateo looked at Skye strangely. “Destroyed? I know that you’re upset that this woman eavesdropped on our conversation and had the gawl to publish it, but she was reporting nonetheless. Speak loudly outside did not grant us privacy.”

“I don’t care,” Skye said. “That spineless bitch is going to wish she never messed with me.”

Giovanni’s Apartment

Giovanni Pike got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his torso. A knock came at his door, and knew immediately that it had to have been Gillian. He came up to the door, and opened it.

Gillian stood at the door, shocked at how revealing only the towel was.

“Yes?” Giovanni asked, rubbing his arm.

“I… need to talk about what happen last time we met,” she stuttered.

Giovanni motioned for her to come in. “The kiss?”

Gillian turned around and flipped a bang of her red hair from her eyes. “Yes,” she said, biting her lip slightly.

Giovanni walk forward. “Are you here for another?” he grinned.

“No,” she insisted, picking up a pitcher of water on a table in the center of the room. “I need to know what you think it meant.” She poured herself a glass.

“Me?” he questioned. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Gillian turned to Giovanni. “Not to me.”

“We’re attracted to each other. I know you are to me, as I am to you. The kiss was a reflection of us.”

“I don’t know…” Gillian said unsure. “What about my mother?”

Giovanni shook his head. “She can’t do for me what you do for me. When you’re around, I can’t help but want you. I need to hold you. Touch you. I don’t care how your mother sees you; you’re very passionate. Passionate in what you want, as well as with who you are.” He approached her closer, “And I know why you really wanted to be here.”

Gillian was breathing deeply. “No… I didn’t want that…” her voice quivered, really unsure of what she wanted.

Giovanni came forward. As he did, the towel around his waist accidentally fell to the floor.

A glass of water tumbling to the floor from Gillian hand was the only sound to be heard.

Torres Residence

As Iris Torres got dressed, she could smell the familiar scent of bacon and eggs that Wyle Torres had been preparing since he had been staying with her.

She slipped on a perfect Gaelic-looking top and white, fitting pants. She knew today was the beginning of the rest of her life.

Iris stepped into the kitchen. “I was thinking of going back to work today,” Iris announced. “I feel bad about the work load Addy has been getting lately.”

“Eat up!” Wyle announced as he brought the food to the table.

Iris smiled. “I’m sure that this stuff will kill me, but I don’t care.”

“Speaking of ‘kill’…” Wyle began, filling his plate, “I saw Adam again this morning. He’s still out of it.”

Iris was worried. “Is he dead?”

“No. He’s fine.” Wyle got up and moved to the counter to clean up.

“Should I go down to see him? See if he’s all right?” She paused. “Do we still need to keep him? He no longer has any use. He knows nothing.”

“It is because he can’t admit that he was the one who stabbed you, and the one who killed your mother. Why else would he show up at your house?”

“What about Bo?” Iris asked. “Wasn’t he the one who killed our mother?”

Wyle waved his hands in the air. “I am just as confused as you.” He placed his hands back on the counter. “But Adam won’t harm you this way…”

Iris agreed and ate her breakfast.

Wyle picked up the knife from the counted. “Adam will never harm my sister. Not if I can help it…”

Torres Residence

Adam King woke up groggy. He strained to open his eyes, and when he did the had an odd twinkle in it. A killer’s look, if a name could be placed on it.

He snarls slightly.

He continues to tug at the rope holding him down, with the Wyle-induced needle mark on his arm being ever-present.