A pleasant day to you all! :D And yes, I am back from the dead. I apologize very much for having been absent for SEVEN MONTHS. My laziness was just too much, and my schedule kept me from reaching this site and from finishing my fic. T.T I AM SO SORRY! I cannot express how truly sorry I am. To apologize further, I would like to let y'all know that I uploaded a TID/TMI crossover earlier today, entitled The Bridge and I hope you'll find time-and forgive me enough-to read it.

Well, here is Chappie 16 as promised and I hope you enjoy it. :) It's quite longer than usual and I hope you'll be satisfied with it..

Weirded out.

That was how Jake felt as he stared at his cellphone's screen. While browsing through his contacts, Jake stumbled upon a number, stored as Call Me. He tried to think. Did anyone touch his phone when he wasn't around? But he never left it lying just anywhere. His phone was like his best friend, and he never let it out of his sight.

"Curious," he muttered.

Maybe he should call it. But no. It could be a number of some Vesper spy or a device which could immediately track his location. There were a lot of possibilities, and all of them were negative.

Well, almost all of them. Perhaps it was because of general security or just out of mere curiosity, but he pressed the call button.

It rang. And rang. He began to rethink his actions. What would happen if he had just walked right into a trap? What if this was actually the trigger to a bomb? And what if this bomb was planted on one of the hostages? He was about to end it when a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

"A-Amy?"

"Jake?"

He then laughed. "Wow. I never thought I'd be glad to hear your voice."

"Ha ha. Thanks for the compliment, Mr. Congeniality."

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"Couldn't. I just had this feeling that something good will happen, you know? Like, you're staying awake for something amazing but you just don't know what it is."

"Well, it's probably just the birthday jitters for your surprise birthday party." He gasped. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Very funny, Jake. My birthday's in four months."

"Right. Right." He then started tapping on his desk. He was lying down on his plush blue recliner in his room in the Cahill mansion. He had begun to make it his own, since he was starting to like Massachusetts. "Hey, uh, did you, by any chance, save your number on my phone?"

"Yeah. As a matter of fact, I did."

"You did?"

"I also happened to have been the one to put the bomb in your room." Jake could feel the smile on her face across the line. "No, Jake. I didn't."

"Well, I'm sorry to break your fantasy of such a gorgeous and intellectual individual such as myself stalking you but this number—yours—was on my phone. Unknown origins."

"Hmm… Perhaps I put it in. You know, just in case you needed some help with your homework."

Jake chuckled. This Amy was different. She was much cheerier, much more hopeful than the Amy he had recently been seeing in the CCC.

"So, you just called to ask whose number this was?"

"Well, I had been hoping to ask whoever that was out on a date. You know, I've been pretty bored and I realized I could use a breather."

"Even if it could have been a boy?"

"To go out with a man such as I? He would be flattered."

He heard her laugh. He also felt the tension from the previous weeks unwind within himself. He could imagine her right now, lying down on her bed, looking up at her glow-in-the-dark stars, her brownish-red hair spread out across her pillow like a fan, and her emerald eyes twinkling as she giggled.

Catching himself, he shook his head. What was he thinking?

"Do you hear that?"

Jake sensed caution in her voice. He also heard a rustle which could have meant that she sat up. He crunched his eyebrows and tried to hear what it was that she heard. Unfortunately, it was much too faint.

"What the—Jake, can you hear that?"

"Hear what? Amy, stay there. I'll go and check it—"

And the line died. He cursed then ran to the CCC. He found Jonah and Evan, still poring over the coded messages they had received from Nathan earlier. Jake rushed to the set of monitors that were portraying the areas of the house the surveillance cameras were watching. His eyes raked each of them hurriedly, quickening when he saw that Amy's room was empty.

"Jonah," he called.

"Yo," the superstar replied.

"Did you see Amy run out of her room?"

"Yeah, in fact I did. After talkin' to someone on her cell."

Jake then heard the sound of gravel and a long, low horn being blown. All the three boys' heads shot up and their attentions turned towards the front gate. Evan typed into the keyboard, magnifying the scene by the main gate onto the main screen.

On the monitor was a black BMW with tinted windows and a suspicious sheen to it. The passenger side window rolled down and a hand emerged, pressing the palm on the fingerprint identifying machine which screened every individual entering the grounds. Only those with the Cahill gene may unlock the gate.

"They won't get it opened," Evan confidently stated. "If they're not Cahills."

The gates opened.

Jake cursed then sat down infront of a keyboard. He began furiously typing into it. He tried to access the identity the lock had uncoded to: ACCESS DENIED. He tried to activate the thermal capability of the surveillance cameras: ACCESS DENIED. He tried to activate the spikes on the road, hoping that they would be able to deflate the vehicle's tires: ACCESS DENIED. He tried to initiate the fog belching of the nearby fruit trees: ACCESS DENIED.

He slammed his fists on the keyboard in frustration. "What the hell is going on!?"

"The manor's security features disable only when coded as thus by three people, in case they think it best for the structure and its inhabitants," Evan said.

"Say what?" Jonah asked.

Jake was the one who answered. "If one of the three really important people thinks that there is no need for the security thingies, they can code it as so at the guardhouse, supposing they have the code."

"Well, that's a good way to get killed," Jonah announced.

Jake and Evan nodded their heads in unison.

"Who are those three people anyways?" The rapper asked.

"Amy, Sinead, and—" Evan paused midsentence.

"And?"

"Fiske," Jake said under his breath.

-o-

Dan had just been on the ride of his life.

At first, he thought that he would have to stay in the baggage area, in the tail part of the jet. However, Jonah had thought better of it and squeezed Dan in as one of the stewards instead. Jonah had told the other staff that he was merely a rookie and therefore did not need to fulfill the duties of a steward yet. Instead, he had been strapped into one of the seats by the stewards' section, just beside the cart which was wheeled around to serve the passenger's hunger and thirst needs.

Dan had helped himself. Well, if he was going to undertake a really difficult and dangerous mission, he might as well stuff himself with energy if he wanted to unleash his ultimate ninja mojo on the evil Vespers. He grabbed three granola bars, a bottle of grape-flavored Gatorade, and a huge bar of Toblerone.

"Because you complete me," Dan muttered before kissing it then stealthily stuffing it into his backpack.

When his steward companions came to strap themselves into the seats beside him for the descent, he went back to fiddling his fingers and pretending to be fascinated about everything.

"This occupation truly is astounding," he said in his best impersonation of an educated person.

"Yes," a stewardess who seemed to be twenty-four of age answered. "It is very satisfying, most especially when one is in need of a vacation." She smiled. "Our expenses are conveniently paid for, thus offering us the opportunity to travel the world as well as enjoy ourselves in the process."

Dan tried to show them his most excited expression. "I am very relieved I chose this career."

After smiling at him once again, they heard the pilot's voice announcing that they were landing in the Lionhead Private Airfield. Dan again thought to himself how convenient Jonah just made the trip, landing him somewhere just a couple of miles off from the suspected Vesper hideout site.

As he walked through the tiny airport, he saw the band members talking with their agent, muttering something about late chauffeurs when he spotted a men's room and slipped inside.

He ignored the moss on the wall beside him and fished in his bag for the GPS tracker Jonah had given him before sneaking him off to the airport. A red dot blinked somewhere south from where Dan was currently standing. Red meant Lucian. He racked for any Lucian hostage and all he came up with was Natalie Kabra. He zoomed out, in hopes of locating the other hostages.

He came up with none.

Thinking that Natalie was isolated and probably left by the others, he threw the tracker back into his bag and banged his way out of the bathroom, walking past the stares of two van rental drivers. He jogged up to a stout and short police officer (he assumed he was a police officer since he wore a badge on his left breast pocket).

"Sir, um," Dan started.

The officer looked at him, his unruly beard going along with the motions. "Si, signor?"

"Where is south?"

"Sa-ooth?"

"Yes, you know, south," Dan said, producing a map and pointing to the compass.

"Ahh, sur." He then pointed to Dan's right.

Dan bowed. "Arigato."

He followed the officer's directions, with absolutely no idea that he had just muttered a Japanese word in response to a man who spoke Spanish.

-o-

Run. Run, Amy. Run.

All her life, she had thought that things couldn't ever get better. She always thought that she and her brother had hit rock bottom; they were orphans and lived with someone who didn't care about them to even provide them enough pocket money in order to fulfill their wants. She always found ways for her and Dan. Their grandmother was perhaps the only person in the world who cared about their happiness. Every trip to her mansion was like a retreat from reality for Amy. She could always relax and do as she pleased when she was with their grandmother. She loved them, and they her.

She fell even lower than rock bottom when Grace died. The first time she heard, it had come from Nellie's lips. Amy had been reading The Great Gatsby when their au pair came into the room, with earphones removed for once. She had sat on Amy's bed and asked the teen to put the book aside. Nellie then told the news in four words: "Your gramma's gone, kiddo." Nellie had looked at her with pity. At first, Amy couldn't register it. She needed to hear it in her mind ten more times before asking Nellie to repeat it. It was only by the fourth time that the au pair muttered it that Amy had truly understood: the only person who loved Dan and her was dead.

When Dan heard, he had run from school the next day. He ran, and ran, and ran. He told her that he only wanted to get away, to go somewhere where all this was a dream. He wanted escape. He wanted to feel the wind on his face, the caress of their grandmother's hands on his cheeks. He thought that she was still flying in her plane and that if he ran fast enough, he could catch sight of her again.

And so she ran.

But not away from reality; into what she hoped was the truth. She ran down the spiraling staircase, past the long hallway of noted Cahills, through the long dining room, and finally, out the main door.

She could feel the wind on her face and hear voices in the wind. She could sense the sky, the clouds, and the sun. She could see a black BMW infront of her, as well as six other people.

She felt her knees grow weak and give way under her. Tears started streaming down her face and she cupped her palm over her mouth to contain her sob. She then cried into her hands, laughing and shrieking at the same time. Soon, she could hear other footsteps from behind her. She saw Jonah embrace his cousin, Phoenix; she saw Evan hug Ted who was aided out of the vehicle by Reagan; Madison had also come out and she tackled her twin in a bear hug; and last but not the least, Sinead emerged. She slowly walked towards Ted, stroked his cheeks with her fingertips, then pulled him in for a hug. Ted hugged his sister back, murmuring words of encouragement into her hair.

Strong hands cupped Amy's elbows and she opened her eyes to the only person asides from her brother who loved Grace as much as she: Fiske. He smiled—still a feat for him—and soon wrapped his arms around her. Nellie joined them, then Phoenix, then the triplets, and soon, Amy was the center of a gigantic group hug.

"Run. When you think the world will end, run. Run and never give up for if the road ends, the world truly has ended. Just run and see if the world will give up on you. Otherwise, keep running. Keep fighting."

"Grace would be so proud," Fiske told her.

Amy smiled through her tears. She knew that somewhere, wherever she may be, Grace was smiling with her hands clasped together. She knew that the world hadn't ended. The evidence was right infront of her.

-o-

The Cahill Christmas Ball, just as always, began with a game. From two fishbowls, Fiske would pick out two names—a girl's and a boy's. These two would then create a game wherein all could play. The reward for being able to engage all the Cahills was slavery of their relatives for the next 48 hours. It was a marvelous prize, one which no one had yet won. The previous year, Madison had been too ecstatic and excited while Ian had just stood like a Michelangelo sculpture.

That year, Fiske picked out two names. And they had been Dan Cahill and Natalie Kabra. The two were surprised. Dan had been picked out once before, with his sister. Amy had thought of only corny games and no one would play. It was also Natalie's first time to play. They were given seven days to prepare; a week before the ball. Dan always wanted the prize so he could be a king for two days; Natalie wanted to be pampered by all that she saw; this they had in common.

The first three days, they could be seen in different parts of the mansion, devising games wherein they thought that everyone would enjoy. This game, though, promoted cooperation and their technique promoted the complete opposite. Thus, one day, Amy engaged the both in a pep talk which had been quite effective because for the next four days, they were always together, thinking of games. They even interviewed the relatives about which games they loved to play. They usually went out to go window shopping and see which materials could be used for their game—and every afternoon they arrived, Dan would be laden with paper bags; these were Natalie's things.

On the day of the ball, Dan and Natalie had such bright smiles as they stood on the stage of the Cahill manor's ballroom that the Cahills thought they were in for trouble. And truly, everyone had enjoyed the game, even Natalie's grumpy older brother, Ian. In the end, they were all chuckling and giggling and rolling all over the floor. Everyone then decided to bestow upon Dan and Natalie the privilege of their service for 48 hours.

Natalie panted.

Again, she woke to the scene she had witnessed earlier: moss, earth, mud, and an unhealthy yellowy glow which emanated from the light bulb. She looked around her and saw that she was alone; that much she was grateful for. She had also realized that her feet were tied to the legs of the chair she was seated in; her wrists were bound to its arms. She tried to wriggle free, but after several minutes of trying, it had been without positive results. Her wrists bled crimson.

She sucked in a deep breath and tilted her head upwards to try and contain the tears which had begun to well up in her eyes. She groaned loudly, trying to expel her being of the feeling of hopelessness and desperation.

Just outside her cell, she noticed a flicker of movement.

"Mother?" she called.

She was met only by silence. The light bulb had begun to flicker, no doubt an effect Isabel had wanted to install for sadistic reasons. And again, Natalie spotted a flash of black.

"Who's there?" she asked. "Reveal yourself, you coward!"

She heard a growl, as if coming from a feral dog. She wildly looked around her in fear. Then, she heard a low growl that must have only been produced by a bear. Natalie was starting to think of something, to remember that game that they had constructed the last Christmas ball. Her suspicions would be confirmed if she heard—

The sound of sizzling fire; as produced by a dragon. Natalie smiled. That was when she knew that she had been rescued. Help had come for her. And that was when she heard the sweetest sound of all: the jingling of a rattlesnake.

Mysteriously, something silver flew into the side of her chair. It stuck to the wood. A knife. Natalie quickly bit the handle and began sawing furiously at the rope on her hand. She was afraid of cutting her arm but the thought of her mother coming back frightened her more. And so she sawed faster. She could see her brother again; she could shop once more. She sawed harder.

"Give me the key to her cell."

Isabel. Natalie hurried up. Just one more to go… And she was free. Trying her best not to fumble with the rope, she quickly undid the knots. Her hand was shaking so hard that she could hardly grab hold of the rope.

She could then hear footsteps. She hurriedly removed the knots by her feet. She did the left one first, quickly regretting as the knot was far more complicated. She turned to the other foot and found that the tie was exactly like the other.

She could then hear them; they were on the other side of her cell door.

"Go on, then. Get me my leeches."

Natalie was crying then. Tears blurred her vision but just as she thought she would just surrender, she saw the knife on the other side of her foot. She took it then cut the rope up.

The door opened and Natalie ran, almost tripped once, then drove the knife into her mother's shoulder.

Isabel gasped. "Natalie."

"Mum," Natalie replied. "I had finally gathered my bearings and realized that if I killed you right now, it would do us all good."

Isabel chuckled. "You cannot kill your own mother."

Natalie saw that the corridor was clear of any other person. And so, she twisted the knife, heard her mother scream, then jerked it out.

"I will escape," Natalie muttered into her mother's ear. "If you come after me, I will kill you."

Natalie walked away but then heard the familiar klip-klop of her mother's heels against the marble floor.

"You cannot kill me," Isabel remarked. "You and your brother are the same. You are both weak."

Isabel had stabbed her , and shot her foot. Isabel, her own mother. All her life, Natalie had looked up to her mother with love and adoration, worshipping her every word and teaching. Isabel had been Natalie and her brother's sign to a brighter future, to a bigger Kabra manor, to the world domination by the Lucians, just as how it rightly was to be.

Greed, pride, and dignity ruined their dream of the perfect family. Ian had gone rogue, as had Natalie. Isabel was nothing but evil, and she deserved nothing but darkness and suffering.

And so, with a grunt, Natalie turned around, and plunged the knife into Isabel's stomach.

Isabel then coughed blood.

The child smirked. "Who's weak now, mother? Who cannot kill who?"

Twisting the knife and pocketing it, Natalie walked off, leaving her mother to drown in a pool of her own blood.

-o-

Dan loved poison dart guns. They were tiny but really useful when you didn't want anyone to catch you. He grinned as his latest victims—two female guards—went down. The poison he was using put the victim into a state of coma for at least seven days. Oh, how he wished that that was all the poison could do.

The toxic he had taken was apparently one of the most lethal ones—as he had stolen from Ian's private stash. This kind not only put the victim in a deep sleep, but it also slowly narrowed their veins, thereby stopping the blood flow throughout the body. This happened discreetly, so the doctor would only suspect a coma, and nothing more. And thus, by the time victim wakes up, he would be dying, or he wouldn't even wake up at all.

He had shot all the guards he passed, and only a few ever saw him. He was now only waiting for Natalie, who he wished had gotten his clues and pieced them together. He wanted to rush in and save her—as he was that kind of hero—but thought twice about it, knowing that Natalie wanted to be the one to remove herself from dangerous situations. He had given her that chance, and wished that he hadn't just put her life in jeopardy because of it.

He then heard footsteps emerging from the room across the hall, as well as two voices conversing. They were coming back, and Natalie was nowhere in sight.

"Crap," one of them called out upon seeing the limp bodies on the floor.

"What the—" the other said.

"Go check the prisoner. Now," Guard 1 commanded.

Guard 2 had been unable to do that task because just as he turned around, a dart bit into his skin and he slumped to the ground.

Guard 1 immediately spotted Dan ran to him with outstretched arms. Dan smiled, aimed the gun, the pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Both of them stared at each other as Dan kept on pulling the trigger and realized that he had no darts left.

Dan then smiled and said, "Well, well, well… Aren't you fortunate?"

Guard 1 growled and was just about to pounce on Dan when long, slim fingers yanked on his hair from behind. Guard 1 bent backwards—accompanied with a disturbing sound of cracking bone—and he fell to the floor, reaching out for whoever had caught him by surprise.

Dan's eyes widened. "Natalie."

She smirked at him then kicked Guard 1 in the ribs. He groaned then curled up in a fetal position. Natalie pulled her leg back then kicked him again, right on the back of his head. Guard 1 cried out and was then whimpering as Natalie again pulled her foot out for another blow. But just before she could deliver it, Dan stood between her and her victim.

"That's enough," he told her.

"He deserves to die," Natalie told him in a venomous voice.

"Yes but—but not like this. You won't be able to live with this."

Natalie chuckled. "You think I haven't killed anyone before? Don't you know the job description of being a Lucian?"

"Yes, Natalie. You haven't killed anyone. You hold your tranq dart out so everyone will cower behind their mama's skirts but you haven't actually killed anyone."

"Oh really? What makes you think that?"

"Because you have a nice heart and I know that you have a soft spot—"

"Me? A soft spot? What do you—"

"You are not a murderer Natalie Kabra—"

"How can you be so sure—"

"You are a nice person—"

"I KILLED MY MOTHER TODAY!"

Natalie was panting then and Dan looked at her in disbelief.

"I killed Isabel," she repeated. "I killed my own mother."

And then, the tears which she had so tried to prevent from flowing gushed out like lake water from a broken dam. She crumpled to her knees as she finally realized the weight of what she had done. She had killed her mother—her mother. She had killed the person who had carried her in her womb for nine months; the woman who painstakingly endured thirteen hours of labor so she may see the world; the woman who burned the midnight oil so she may look after her daughter closely; the woman who taught Nat to walk and talk; the woman who gave Natalie everything she ever wanted.

Natalie had killed a world-renowned murderer, child abuser, liar, and thief. Nat had done the world good.

Dan was on his knees infront of her, stroking her back and saying nothing. He knew her. He knew that she didn't want to be comforted. He knew that she would gather herself on her own terms and pick herself up. He knew that all he could do now was to retreat to CCC before they were caught by the Vespers.

"Come on, Nat," he cooed. "Let's go home."

And here come the tears! :D Natan in full effect, people! And Jamy climbs up another step. Here, we all finally get to see the effect of Dan's earlier prank...

fieryjunior35: thank you so much! that meant the whole world to me! :))) because of my laziness, i was starting to think you guys might have given up on me... I guess I would have deserved that though... TT-TT

Ascend or A8scond: first of all, I like your pen name :D it's really quite inventive. And here is your request, dear! a natan, with cherry on top : and yes, I am getting pretty close to a certain Amonah moment I have in mind right now...so Amonah shippers, get your cannons ready! :D

martigirl: Teagan and Nedison are indeed a bit overlooked in this fandom but I wish to bring them to life. :) most of the fics I see are Deagan or Madan but I'm not really into these. I like the pairings between the Starlings and Holts because it's pretty adorable and hilarious at the same time. :")

Phantomhive Cahill: Amian, Amonah, or Jamy...hmm... Well, I'm for all of them! :D I love all those pairings which is why I'm having a war with myself right now: as to who I'm going to get Amy to end up with when this series ends. Amian is on VERY high demand, but Jamy shippers are constantly increasing while the Amonah ship isn't too far back... Let's just see. :)

addicted2reading9: your story is a romance fic about Danead. And I have to admit that it's got real potential. :D haha...too bad I'm a solid Natan shipper. And I think I beat you this time, dear. :)) And yes, I think this year will be ultimately better than last because I swear to be more responsible. :

damnit000: doesn't everyone get sad when their favorite story comes to an end? :) and again, the choice between Amonah, Jamy, and Amian is still pretty unresolved right now because they all have their own perks! Each guy is ultimately different from the other and their effect on Amy is really cute. x) I think I'll cry when I'll finally decide on Amy's perfect guy...

magicdemi-god223: yeah, I guess Ian is the late hero, huh? Dan got to Nat before he did so I'm grinning at the thought of what he'll do when he gets to HQ... perhaps a bit of humor would be nice? :D oh and I hope you have a wonderful 2013 too! (even though we're already half-way through)

BookwormGirl16: oh yeah...the last Amian had been so long ago. Are you guys itching for an Amian? I guess another chappie for that is in order! :D

nellieawesomegomez: I am Divergent(Dauntless-Erudite-Amity)-Slytherin-Lucia n-Warlock-Designer(District 8) :D so from those, I guess one can deduce that I'm evil? :))) And I'm sorry to say-I'm not hating or anything but-I'm not really into the Percy Jackson series.. :/ I don't know why but I just am not... to the fans out there, please don't hate me! :(((

poptropica.1997: haha...indeed. And here is Chappie 16! I guess a lot of people are pretty irritated right now because it took me more than half a year to update...

Guest: # 1 :))) I have continued! :D

Guest: #2 :))) Yeah...that is the biggest question right now, isn't it? Who'll get the girl? haha...I guess you'll have to read to find out.

catdreamer39: Well, most of your critiques have been pointed out earlier in the series. For example, Sinead has green eyes, I know, but I'm just going with the blue because if I change it to green, the readers would get confused. And yes, I think that I described Ian's having olive skin and almond eyes earlier as well. It's just that due to the settings and conditions in this fic-such as his living in the city, and stress-it's only natural that he'd lose his tan and his eyes would get darker. Sinead's not really portrayed in the book but according to a survey, those who don't show much emotion are those who act most intense when under a state of duress, or in her case, stress. And with Jonah I understand that he uses slang but it's just that I don't really know much slang so I just went with the shortcuts and such. :) The twins actually get called Mads and Reags sometimes in the book. I like using these because it symbolizes that they're softening. Amy's hair was described in the first book as reddish-brown which is the same as auburn. With the Isabelle, it's just that at the time I was making that chap, I was also engrossed in The Mortal Instruments and one of the characters there was Isabelle Lightwood so I guess I got pretty much affected. :) But on the other hand, thank you still for criticizing my work and please feel free to do so in the future chapters. :)))

Mr Moonface: I am also in love with oranges. :) I am also in love with Jake. :) I want him for myself but I also want him to end up with Amy so my life is really complicated right now... :D

Mila-is-a-bookworm-101: Thanks a lot! :D

Jemjem: "I am like, so in love with the 39 Clues that if I never read them, I would be dead." Hear hear, comrade! Hear hear! :)))

Guest: #3 I like you determination, dear. You almost never see that anymore! :D But I hope that this chap delivered!

Team Jamy: Well actually, I'm a journalist but because of our adviser's FAVORITISM, someone worse than I got chosen to be the Editor-in-Chief of our paper. I'm actually pretty pissed now that I'm all depressed and so...I'm even thinking of quitting writing. DAMN HER! ;((( What kind of paper chooses their EIC through VOTING? haha...I'm sorry if I lost it... :)

Jamyluvsyou: haha...don't worry, Jamy shippers! You find yourselves looking down on the Amian ship! :D

Guest: #4 DundundunDUUUUNNN! :DDDDDD

Guest: #5 :))) Yay! I'm trying so hard to make them IC so thanks A LOOOTT!

To all you guys, I love you so much for not walking out on me. :))) That means so much to me. So please tune in for Chap 17 and hopefully, I won't take as long this time. :) And also, to all CassieClare fans out there, please check out my new TID/TMI crossover fic entitled The Bridge.

LoveyaLOTS! :*

~.dauntsthercian warlock.