c a t h e r i n e Cat was tired. Then again, Cat was always tired. Not physically, no. Physically, the vampire girl couldn't get tired. But the decades upon decades of immortality had taken a toll on her psyche; sure, the heightened senses and superpowers that came along with eternal life were great most of the time, but on occasions, Catherine Whitlock wanted to just crawl into the bed she had for no reason and sleep. But she couldn't right now, because Cat was being forced to attend the school musical. Not that there was anything wrong with musical theatre; in her lifetime, Cat had probably seen Les Miserables at least seventy times -- but this particular production just wasn't very good. Most of the cast clearly did not want to be there and they looked just as tired as Cat felt. Except for one girl. She was blonde, buxom and beautiful, everything Cat was not. She took hold of the attention of the audience and ran with it; everything she did on stage was seamless as though it had been rehearsed one million times, honed to perfection. Cat was jealous of her enthusiasm. She also knew that the girl on stage was a werewolf, a fact she had been reminded of many times by her dear sister, Bridget. Bridget. The only reason Cat was at school at eight p.m. on a Saturday. Bridget had wanted to come to the performance just to stake out the werewolf twins that she despised so much, and, of course, she had dragged Cat and Ethan along with her. Ethan, Bridget's husband -- but boyfriend to the general high school population, of course -- did not want to be here any more than Cat did. But, of course, there was no saying no to Bridget. Sometimes Cat wished for her adoptive sister's confidence, but she had long ago accepted that she was not meant for such a dominant personality. Cat knew her place; she was the shy, introverted submissive one. And she was fine with that. Really.