Trust was an issue for me, as it often is for my kind.

I found myself, similar to countless other supernatural beings, living by the rule that trust takes years to build, but seconds to break, and an eternity to repair. Too many broken friendships and crushes that went wrong taught me to limit myself to having a few close friends I could depend upon.

My close friendship group consisted of me, Wednesday Mortelle, and Almond Carwood — Al for short. The three of us were all supernatural, to differing degrees, which was why we stuck together. Wednesday was a witch — a skill she'd inherited from her mum; Al was a pixie — a mischievous nature spirit who had a bad habit of tricking people.

I, on the other hand, was only at the start of developing my abilities on the day I went to my second cousin's house for a gathering. Little did I know that when I arrived at my cousin Ashley's house, things would quickly go downhill.

In all honesty, Wednesday had told me of a premonition — she wasn't precise, but she'd insisted that I was going to meet someone new, and for me to be wary. Of course, she meant don't set anything on fire.

It was the last day of the summer holidays, and the train was baking hot as I travelled a few miles south to my second cousin, Ashley's house.

My family was a complicated, heated mess at the best of times; Ashley was my grandad's sister's granddaughter. My dad was an only child and an orphan, while my mum's sister died before she could have any kids — meaning I had no actual first cousins.

"You should go to Ashley's little party," Mum had insisted as I groaned over the text invite, making the fatal mistake of complaining. "She's the closest relation you've got, age-wise, at least. And you've not seen her since last year."

"Yeah, 'cos I kicked her cat over the wall." Unfortunately, it was true; my unpredictable abilities were to blame.

Needless to say, the number of times I'd been taunted about having anger management issues have been piling up ever since I was about five years old.

I pressed the bell on the front door and Ashely opened it immediately, breathless.

"Hey." I forced a smile, taking in her casual clothes and judging them against mine, glad to see we were wearing similar outfits — it had taken me way too long that morning to decide what to wear, and it was gratifying knowing I'd chosen the right thing: denim shorts and a cute, patterned t-shirt.

"Hey, what's up?" Ashley panted slightly, her left hand dragging a few wispy blonde flyaways out of her face.

"I'm fine... Are you okay?" I asked, noting her hurried state.

"I'm great! Just — just need to catch my breath." The thing is with Ashley, she doesn't need much prompting to get excited. I'd barely stepped through the door when she squealed in excitement, "Ember! My American pen pal is here!"

"Cool, I didn't know you had one. What's she like?" Keeping my tone measured, I tried to imagine a set of those old-fashioned scales in the middle of my head. My goal for this party was simple: attempt to socialise and keep those scales balanced.

No one needed to witness me being unhinged. Or antisocial, for that matter.

"That's the best part." Ashley grinned widely, revealing those pearly whites of hers and pulling me out of my head. "My pen pal is a he!"

"What?" My jaw dropped, but I snapped it shut again quickly. "Why is he here?"

"I want you to meet him!" Ashley ignored my question, a frequent habit of hers.

"Who else is here?" I pondered, hoping her mother — who was technically my first cousin once removed, though she acted like the aunt I never had — would be there, so that I could talk to her instead of this... pen pal.

The smile didn't leave Ashley's face. "My boyfriend, and a couple of other friends from school."

"Great." I grimaced. "You expect me to hang out with this complete stranger?"

"Yep, it's either that or the cat." She gestured to Lilah sitting in the doorway, the dark grey British shorthair cat who was already giving me the evil eye.

Yeah, she totally remembers me kicking her over the garden wall last year.

I hated that cat, and it hated me right back, so I shook my head in defeat. "I'll meet him."

"Okay, that's great! He's over there." She pointed to a figure standing in the shade of a tree.

"What's his—" Ashley flounced off and left me to finish dejectedly, "—name?"

The scales became dangerously close to becoming unbalanced as I silently cursed my cousin and questioned how on Earth I was supposed to relate to someone who lives on the other side of the Atlantic.

"You must be... Ember?" His mellow, American-accented voice startled me as I approached him awkwardly.

"Yep, that's me." I nodded, sighing quietly to myself. See, I'd always had a thing for the American accent. It just seemed to make those guys in high school rom-com movies so much more attractive.

"I wanted to meet you," he admitted straight away, leading me to frown at a tree across the garden.

"You mean, Ashley wanted you to meet me."

He was over a head taller than me, meaning every time I looked at him, I'd probably end up with neckache. Wonderful, I seethed internally. I clenched my fist in my pocket — feeling my nails dig into my palm and bring me back to my senses.

"No, I wanted to meet you," he corrected.

Confused, I looked at him properly this time. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a t-shirt. His face told a slightly different story — striking, but odd, hazel-blue eyes, a sharp, framing jawline and a serious expression. As if he was there for more than just a casual meet-and-greet type scenario. I wondered if he spent hours gelling his hair, or if simply looked that effortless when he rolled out of bed in the morning.

Probably the latter.

"You don't want to meet me." I turned my attention to the rest of the garden — Ashley, her boyfriend Ben and a couple of their friends were setting up food on a picnic table. The sun beat down on the south-facing garden, and I could feel its warming rays despite the tree's dappled shade.

"And what if I do?" He countered, and even though I didn't look at his face, it sounded like he was raising an eyebrow.

Guys always ended up getting me into trouble. Or I ended up hurting them somehow. Except for Eric Herckell, with whom I experienced my latest and greatest failure of a relationship. It was the summer before when he decided to cheat on me with Ashley's friend, Katy — who, thankfully, wasn't at that particular garden party.

My promise to myself of no boys that year was already heading towards the bin — where countless other failed resolutions resided and melded together like forgotten sweets at the bottom of a kid's school bag.

With a jolt, I remembered the words of Wednesday's premonition — watch out for someone new, and be wary of them... They won't be all that they seem. Warning bells began shrilling in my head; what if this guy is supernatural too?

"What's your name?" I snapped, feigning uninterest. Even if I had to be careful of him, I still needed to gather intel, or something — right?

I turned to him as he replied, "Theo Aquila. I'm from—" For the first time, he faltered, his confidence swaying ever so slightly, "I'm from Atlanta, Georgia."

"Are you transferring here or something?" Reluctantly, I felt the need to strike up some semblance of a conversation. It'd probably be rude to just fire endless questions at him.

"Yeah... I'm turning 17 in December, but I need to redo 10th grade."

"What does that mean?" I shook my head, pointing out the blatantly obvious; "British brains don't compute American schooling systems well."

"It's the same for Americans trying to understand the British school system... Year 11, I think? Something to do with GCSEs?" His eyes hadn't left my face for one second, as if he'd find all the answers he needed in my eyes.

"Same year as me," I mused aloud. "So, are you transferring to Ashley's school here? Seeing as you two are pen pals and all."

"No... There's this high school called Challis Hi—"

"What?" I half-shrieked, "Why the hell are you transferring to my high school?"

"Because they accepted me." Theo's eyes darted away from mine. "It's hot out here. I'll go get you a drink."

Shaking my head incredulously, I leaned against the silver birch tree behind me. How am I supposed to be wary of him when he's coming to the same high school as me? How am I supposed to keep an eye on him when he's disappeared to get a drink?

Though, in all honesty, Theo had just succeeded in getting the orange life ring out of the messed-up waters of Ember Milburn.

The scales were beginning to tip — trying not to lose my cool was increasingly challenging when this Theo Aquila dude was messing with my head. Not to mention the fact he was stupidly handsome and had this mad magnetic charm about him.

Cool it, Ember. He's just a guy — he's probably got a girlfriend or something.

Yeah... another voice in my head argued, but if he's moving to the UK, he's leaving his girlfriend behind and he'll be lonely...

Right, that's it, I decided, starting to make my own escape when Theo began walking towards me, pleasantly surprising me.

"I got you apple juice." He offered forward a glass, and I blinked at the swift change in subject — what happened to me being mad at him for transferring to my high school?

"Did you spike it with something?" I asked in all seriousness as I peered into it.

"For sure. It's a drug that will make you relax; it's called BWT."

Suspicious, I raised an eyebrow. "What does that stand for?"

"Being with Theo," he replied with a shrug, admitting a cringey prank.

"Hey!" I shoved him lightly, finding myself doing a little harmless flirting. "You got me there."

I could already imagine Wednesday's scolding: flirting is not gathering intel.

"What do you call it again? Hook, line and... floater?"

"Floater?" I laughed and cringed at the same time. "Not even close; it's hook, line and sinker. But yep, you got me — hook, line and sinker." I smiled and said under my breath, "Right from the start."

Theo heard me and replied, "Likewise," before looking away.

I blushed, the single word making my heart flip. And then that's when I knew I should've left or never even come here in the first place. It's possible that Wednesday was warning me not to fall for him. I barely know the guy, but it already feels like something is drawing us together — an undeniable chemistry of sorts.

"Cheers." He smiled gently and raised his glass to mine.

"To—" I began, planning to say, the weather. It's extremely British, but talking about the weather is perfect small talk, and I can usually do it without screwing up —a win-win situation.

"To meeting you," Theo announced.

Me? I only just met him. My heartbeat stuttered before accelerating.

We clinked glasses, though Theo said my name as I was raising the glass to my lips.

"What's your name?" He wanted to know, a hint of curiosity entering his tone.

A little self-consciously, I replied, "Ember Hestia Milburn."

"There's a lot of fire in that name," he said with perception, causing my cheeks to burn; what if he knows? But then he moved on, "Bit of a mouthful as well."

"I didn't choose it." I shrugged.

Theo Aquila said my name again — my full name this time — as if he was testing out the feel of it in his mouth. It sounded pretty damn good.

"Alright, don't wear it out." A smirk found my lips — a perfect mask for my fluctuating emotions and my hammering heart.

Unexpectedly, Theo placed his hand against my face and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, letting his hand rest gently on my chin. My heart fluttered at the gesture but I pulled away — shattering the moment.

I stepped away from him, my words barely forming a whisper, "Why did you do that?"

"There's something different about you."

"What about me?" I frowned, trying to focus on the sound of his voice instead of my heart battering against my ribcage.

"I know your secret, Ember," he stated, and the afore-beating heart nearly stopped.

"You... You don't know anything about me."

"I know your secret," Theo repeated, but, how could he?

"You're— you're lying," I accused judgmentally. "You only met me today."

"And yet it feels like I've known you a lifetime."

"I—" I swallowed and laughed exasperatedly, "I can't do this — whatever this is, I don't want any part of it. I'm sorry." I chained my heart out of harm's reach, however, it already had begun to ache for him.

It's too late. You're already a part of it, a cruel little voice in my head whispered.

We ate the pizza that Ashley brought out in semi-silence. We discussed irrelevant and mundane issues such as cafeteria food at school, and more relevant, important issues like what GCSEs we were studying.

I, to say the least, was bored out of my brain — and judging by the look on Theo's face, so was he. Ashley did most of the talking, so the conversation wasn't exactly what you would call 'flowing' between the group.

And then, as I should've known, it was time for Ashley to make things all about her. She brought out some new picture frames and lockets she'd splashed out on.

"What do you think?" She beamed across at me, seeking my opinion.

Time to feign some interest.

"Well, they're a little flashy..." I trailed off, looking at the purple, green and blue coverings of the lockets descending in size order — a tablespoon-sized one, a teaspoon-sized one and a thimble-sized one. I turned my face away from the garish neck adornments and towards the fold-out picture frame.

Theo came and stood next to me. His voice was soft when he uttered a simple, "Hey."

Irritation prickled at the back of my head. He'd claimed to know my secret, to have some sort of connection with me. It didn't seem like he was going to be leaving me alone any time soon, so I made an effort.

"Hi, I was just looking at this." I gestured to the picture frame.

I opened it and inside there were seven pictures. The largest one in the centre was a picture of Ashley and her parents — though, of course, Ashley was front and centre. On the sections that fold in, there were three smaller ones on each side. On the left, there was a picture of snow-covered trees, one of a landscape and another of their house.

There was a picture of Lilah, the ugly cat. But at least that made sense. What didn't make sense was the picture of Theo, directly underneath that. I'd always known that Ashley could get a little obsessed over people, but I still didn't expect her to have a picture of her pen pal printed out and placed in a photo frame.

Even though he was right beside me I stared into his eyes on the picture — taking in the odd hazel-blue mix of his eyes. I slid my finger along the edge of the frame.

"Find what you were looking for?" Theo's voice whispered warmly into my ear, and the skin on the back of my neck tingled from his breath.

"Ugh—" Half-embarrassed, half-angry at his unnecessary proximity, I spluttered out, "Yeah — Ashley's ugly cat—"

"Looked like you were looking at the picture of me there." He unnecessarily pointed.

"You didn't need to point," I snapped before stating, "I'm fairly good at spotting troublemakers." It was only after the words left my mouth that I realised he would only torment me further.

"You think I'm trouble?" He laughed mockingly, "Ember Milburn, you have no idea."

The fire inside of me started to heat up as he mocked me. I began to walk away from him, but he continued — "Hey, Ashley! Your cousin thinks I'm trouble!"

Despite his childish mockery, everything he was doing was provocative as if he was trying to get a reaction out of me. Well, it seemed like he might just get his wish — my control was weak, and these sorts of situations often spiralled out of my grasp before I even realised that they were happening.

An accident can't happen here.

Any attempt I tried was too late — the flames started dancing on the tablecloth; rushing across the surface like a line of gasoline which had been sparked by a match. Except there was no match.

Everybody immediately snapped into action, rushing towards the table — dragging belongings off, but I remained stuck.

Desperately squeezing my eyes shut, I internally repeated the simple mantra that my uncle had tried to teach me, but it didn't seem to be working at all. Something was seriously messing with my head.

The truth cannot be found without the trust. The truth cannot be found without the trust.

After what felt like an eternity, I was finally able to move my stupid legs. I ran inside as I saw Theo tipping a jug of juice over the flames. I prayed silently that they'd stop as soon as I was out of the area.

I rushed into the nearest bathroom and tore my bracelets off my left wrist — revealing the detailed, black, flame tattoo, which was about an inch in height. I cupped my right hand under the tap and rapidly turned it on and began to massage the cold water into the emblem.

A few minutes later after I started, the heat inside me was gone, but the tattoo would always remain.

I have to get out of here — the thought was a mere blur — before anyone notices. Before Theo can figure out the truth.

I ran out of the house without a glance back.

Even on the train ride home, back to Lake Oldoy, my thoughts were still whirling like a hundred mile-an-hour cyclone. Twisting and distorting everything. My head ached from the exhaustion induced by that little... accident, as well as a million questions about the strange Theo Aquila tumbling through my mind.

There was something off about him. Something much more serious than his good looks, American accent and cocky attitude could ever cover up.

The train went into a dark tunnel, shutting out the late summer sky and startling me.

Some graffiti scrawled on the tunnel wall caught my attention — yet it flashed by quicker than my eyes could compute to my brain what I'd seen. The same emblem flashed by again, and again; the image imprinting itself in my mind.

The image was of a heart with a line through the middle of it, almost like an arrowhead. A rush of fear burst into my heart, because I knew, even then, that there were people in this world that were against people like me... And that they used arrows to hunt us down.

I'd never come across a hunter before, but that was going to change soon — and all because of a certain Theo Aquila, whose mysteries and secrets would prove to be deeper and darker than anything I'd ever encountered before.