Bloodstone and Pentacles - Part 1

Chapter 1

         "What will you do to me?" the woman whispered. He looked at her and smiled. His dark hair hung over his shoulders, concealing most of the pale flesh of his neck. He drew her to him, smelling the fear that radiated from her as his mouth inched toward her neck.
         She is trying to resist.. how cute, he thought while his lips grazed and his teeth broke the silky skin of her neck. He heard her attempts to scream as he drank the coppery blood from her veins.
         He felt the liquid coursing through his body as his skin warmed, his eyes brightened, and his strength grew. Every sense sharpened as his victim fell limp in his arms.
         To kill her or not to kill her? As he looked over her face, he pictured her as he had met her. Eyes a shade of brown so dark that they appeared black, and those eyes, filled with a child-like wonder, intrigued him. Long dark hair shone in the dim light behind the movie theater.
         His mouth pulled away from her, and he laid her on the pavement. When you awaken, he thought, sending his words into her mind, you will remember nothing of what has happened tonight. He moved strands of black hair away from her face and sighed, licking the liquid from his lips.
         I've seen so many beauties, most more gorgeous than this girl... yet her cheerfulness is a refuge I have been denied. He removed his black leather coat, then shook his head as he tugged it back on. She will be warm enough. She will awaken, confused and somewhat weak, but she will recover quickly.
         He wondered down the deserted street, hands tucked into jacket pockets. I missed my chance. But I am not sure that she could possibly have been ready for what I could have given her.

         Draven took the key from the ignition and looked at his watch. Crap, five o'clock already.. He witnessed the changing color in the sky from the sun that threatened to wash away the darkness in a matter of minutes.
         He climbed out of his black jeep, shutting the door behind him with steady hands to keep the sound from echoing. Draven wandered through the empty parking lot and toward the red-painted wooden stairs to his floor. He tugged his keys from his pocket and sorted through them to find the silver rounded key, then unlocked the door of his apartment and slipped inside. He listened, leaning forward with the side of his head as he entered through the heavy wooden door. After moments of silence, he walked into the small hallway between the kitchen and even smaller hall leading to another bedroom.
         "Kayla, are you here?" he called as he walked through the quiet dwelling. He knocked on the bedroom door, fist hitting as if he were touching an antique at first, and whispered through the door. "Kayla, it's me. If you can hear me, open the door." He pressed his ear to the door, but no response followed his question. He groaned and put his hand on the door knob, turning it and pushing open the door.
         He peeked inside the room to see the lights out and the bed empty, sheets tossed aside. He searched trough the closet and glanced out the window, holding his lower lip between his teeth.
         As he turned toward the door, a shadowed figure blocked his path.
         The figure reached a pale hand toward the light switch and long fingers wrapped around the lever. A glowing white light filled the small room, and Draven, squinting into the light, saw the face of a young girl.
         "Draven, what's wrong? Did I startle you?" she asked, jade-green eyes glancing around the room.
         "Nothing's wrong, Kayla," Draven replied, sighing and laying a hand on the wall at her side. "I'm just..surprised that I didn't hear you come inside." As he took a couple steps toward Kayla, he lifted a gentle hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "I was afraid something had happened to you," he whispered.
         "No, nothing happened," Kayla said, shaking her head. "I was only out with a couple boys. Tourists." She smirked. "They were fun, Draven. If they knew me like everyone here does, they would not have bothered with me."
         Draven nodded and closed his eyes. "Yes, that's true." Thanks to those stupid rumors, she has no friends at all, Draven thought, clenching his hands into fists.
         "Draven?" Kayla asked as she rested a hand on his arm.
         He forced his fists to lay flat at his sides. "Yes, Kayla?"
         "Is something wrong? You seem a little angry."
         He shook his head. "I'm fine now. You should get some sleep. Don't you have school or something in the morning?"
         She laughed. "Draven, it's only Saturday morning. You know I wouldn't stay out on a school night. You're probably right, though. But you might want to get out of here first."
         Draven blushed and smiled. "That probably would be a good idea." He bent down to kiss her forehead. "Good night, Kayla."
         As she climbed into bed, Kayla smiled. "Goodnight, Draven."
         Draven walked out and closed her door. As he walked into his room, a sigh escaped his closed lips. Kayla can't even have a normal life. Without mom and dad, I'm not even sure what normal is in this place. He closed his bedroom door and flopped on the bed, face buried in black stain pillows.
         Her life has changed so much, and she doesn't even know it. She was only three when... Memories swirled through Draven's mind as he drifted into a deep sleep.

         As she walked through the hallway, Kayla checked her reflection in the closest mirror: green eyes the color of jade, milky skin, straight black hair that hung to her waist, and an hourglass figure. Kayla smiled.
         Nothing repulsive... not at all, she thought, but they are all so frightened of me. She shrugged and walked toward Draven's room.
         As she opened the door, she laughed. His foot dangled from under the covers, one pillow over his face as he snored. She strolled over to the side of the bed and swept a few strands of dark hair out of his face.
         Kneeling down, she whispered in his ear, "Draven. Draven, you should be awake by now. Get up." He let out a groan and opened his eyes, squinting.
         "Ahh... the light... it burns!" Draven cried, smiling as he covered his eyes and hissed. Kayla laughed as she ruffled his hair and stood.
         "C'mon, sleepy head, get up," Kayla replied, her hand creeping closer to the partially-opened curtains. "I'll pull it open if you don't. And you know I will." She tugged on the curtains, opening them an inch.
         "Ok, ok!" he said, pulling the sheets away from his body. As he stood, Kayla turned away. Kayla heard the zip of his pants and turned back to him.
         He's too handsome for his own good, Kayla thought as she looked at Draven. He had bulging muscles in his arms and chest. Lavender eyes peered out of pale flesh, stretched over chiseled cheek bones, and black hair hung to his shoulders.
         "Kayla, is something wrong?" Draven touched her shoulder. Kayla blinked and blushed, turning her gaze to the floor.
         "Oh, nothing's wrong," she replied, picking up a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed and walking out of his room. Dropping the pile in a laundry basket, she carried the basket into her room, picking up more clothes and putting them with the rest. Kayla set the basket on the small washer and strolled back into the living room, slumping into a chair.
         "Hey, Draven?" she called into his room.
         A muffled voice replied, "Huh?"
         "Do you remember the last time I had a friend over?"
         Draven came through the door and took a seat on the arm of Kayla's chair. "To tell you the truth, I don't remember you ever having someone over. Why do you ask?"
         She shrugged. "I don't remember ever having a friend, and I was just wondering if there might've been a time that I just can't remember when I did have one." She snorted. "But I guess not, huh?"
         Draven turned and hugged her, resting his chin on her head. "Kayla, you'll always have me. I don't know if I'm enough, but I promise that you will always have me."
         Giving him a smile, Kayla rested a hand on his leg. "Thank you."
         Draven returned her smile and walked over to the fire place. "Kayla?"
         "Hmm?"
         "Wanna help me start a fire? It's a little cold in here."
         Kayla gave a nod. "Sure."I suppose I'll be alone for a long time, Kayla thought, making her way to the fireplace.

         Flashes of pastel colors passed before Kayla's eyes. The colors morphed into outlines of people until an entire picture was visible. A man with broad shoulders, mid-back length ebon hair with four pencil-thin streaks of grey amongst the strands, a goatee, and a stony face stood with a woman with a wave of curling ginger hair along her back, full lips, and a younger man with the same black hair hanging above his shoulders, hazel eyes fixed on the woman, stood in an ancient building, wearing clothing Kayla had only seen in history books and Renaissance fairs. A robin-egg blue satin tunic and black leggings covered the man, the woman wearing a scarlet gown with a gold underdress, the youth in grey leggings and a russet tunic. The woman held a bundle of cloth, violet eyes searching the hall. Her cheeks held wet streaks starting at her eyes as she looked at the bundle. She murmured to the boy and handed the bundle to him, her fingers resting on the small opening in the top. She kissed his cheek and looked to the man. He looked over her head and around them as the woman spoke with the boy, then gave him a hug. The man and woman smiled to the boy and fled, the woman’s skirts flowing behind her in a wash of red.
         An infant hand reached out of the bundle and the boy stared into wide green eyes. As the boy jerked his head up at a crash down the hall, the image faded, and Kayla stared up at her blank ceiling. Kayla blinked and rubbed her forehead. What the hell was that?

         "Hey, watch it with that!" Draven cried as another handful of chocolate chip cookie dough landed on his face.
         "But I owe you for this!" Kayla laughed, holding up her white t-shirt, covered in dough and smeared with chocolate. "I love weekends, don't you?"
         Wiping a gob of wet flour off his cheek, he smiled. "Of course. But only if it's spent with the cutest sister in the whole world!" Draven said in a high-pitched voice. Kayla's arm rose, her hand full again and ready to fire, when Draven stopped and covered his face. "Please, not again!"
         Kayla smiled and put the dough back. "We haven't made cookies in a long time. What made you want to do it today?"
         "I'm not sure," Draven said with a shrug. Putting the cookie sheet in the oven, he smiled. So, What do you feel like doing?”
         "I'm not sure.” She watched him wipe bits of dough from the counter as she turned on the faucet, letting the water fill the sink. Kayla stacked the dishes next to the sink, rinsing them off before putting them in the water. She glanced out the window, watching beads of rain splattering on the ground and full, grey clouds overhead. "Doesn't look like a good day to be outside."
         As he followed her gaze through the window, he nodded. “We could still go out, ya know. I thought you liked Rain anyway.
         "Not so much anymore. Besides, what would we do out there anyway?" She turned to him, leaning her lower back against the sink.
         "Walk around or something," Draven replied with a smirk.
         "Why would we walk in the rain?"
         "‘Cause."
         "‘Cause why?"
         "‘Cause I said so," Draven smiled and splashed her with water from the sink.
         Splashing him back, Kayla growled, "If you feel like getting soaked, I'll throw you in the bathtub."
         "Only if you can catch me first." Draven splashed her again and ran through the doorway and out onto the covered walkway. As his feet spattered down the wooden steps and into the rain, Kayla followed. They splashed through the parking lot, kicking up water at each other.
         Laughing, Kayla looked at him. "This is really pathetic, Draven. We need a new hobby."
         "And you need someone besides me to bother once in a while." Draven sat on the sloping curb and looked up to see mounds of dark puffy clouds drift apart to reveal a sapphire blue sky splashed with wisps of cotton-ball clouds. Draven turned his gaze to his chest, then relaxed as he saw a pentacle pendant on a silver chain hanging around his neck. The deep green stone in the center reflected the sun's rays, and Draven looked over to his sister, eyes wide.
         "Kayla? What happened to your necklace?" he asked, walking over to her.
         "I took it off earlier. Why?" As he took her hand and dragged her toward the door, she pulled back. "Draven, what's wrong?" He ignored her and led her inside the apartment, slamming the door.
         With a heavy sigh, Draven looked into her eyes. "You can't just keep that necklace off like that."
         "You always say that, but why? Why does it matter? It's only a necklace." She groaned and leaned against the kitchen doorway, crossing her arms over her chest.
         She'll hopefully never need to know why, he thought, shaking his head and brushing ebon strands behind one ear. "Just please keep it on?"
         "If you really want me to, I will," Kayla sighed, pulling the twin pendant and chain out of her pocket and clasping it around her neck. Kayla walked into her room, leaving Draven in the hallway to stare at a blank wall.

         He walked down the street lined with circles of yellow light atop black-painted metal poles, his body shrouded in black. He looked to a man and woman huddling together as they walked, giggling and nudging one another with shoulders and elbows. A woman in black jeans and a grey wool sweater strode down the sidewalk, a cell phone pressed into her ear. None of these pathetic people matter. Sighing behind his sunglasses, he walked down the rest of the block and into a bar on the corner with “Blue Tavern” glowing on the sign above the door. Neon signs, laughter, and an oldies station playing “Little Green Bag” filled the room.
         "What can I get ya?" a woman in black tank top that accentuated more cleavage than was really there behind the bar asked, a smile curving her lips as her eyes traveled over him.
         "Nothing, thank you," he said, his voice foggy. He walked to a table in near the bathroom, a framed picture of Sylvester Stallone in Rocky III on the wall, then sat down and slid his trench coat down his arms. A black muscle shirt clung to the muscles in his chest. He watched the woman behind the bar stare at him with wide eyes and the same smile from the corner of his eye. Shaking his head, he looked around the room.
         These people are so different now than in my time. He closed his eyes...

         "Boy, get over here!" he called from the redwood throne. A great stone hall filled with people stood before him. Forest-green, cherry-red, and pumpkin-orange banners hung over the gray walls. A few windows and many candles lit the hall, throwing shadows around the room.
         He walked over to the throne and knelt on the stairs of the dais, softened leather boots making the creaking sound that only leather does. "What is it you wish, sir?" He stared at the man's shoulder.
         "Rumors have been flying about this family, and I am not sure how these things got around." He looked down at an emerald ring on his hand, running his finger over the stone.
         "Sir, what kind of rumors?"
         "There has been word of someone of this family out and about in the wee hours of the morning." The man watched his face as he spoke. The boy looked up and raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. "People say the person's face is smeared with crimson. The person is catlike in their movements and is able to leap from the ground to the top of a tree in an instant." He paused, searching the boy's face with his eyes.
         "Sir? How is it known to be a member of this family?"
         "Why, the color of our hair! The dark, long hair of this family is rare here. Surely you are aware of this!"
         Nodding, the boy rose and performed a sweeping bow. "I have heard no news of these occurrences, but I shall do everything in my power to find more information." He turned on his toes and walked away, the thuds of his footsteps following him through the silent hall.
         As he strolled to his room, Gabriel searched around him for any sign of life, then swore. "How could I have been so careless?" he grumbled and looked down. "Someone has seen me, and I will soon be hunted for that idiot's account. Damn the midnight hunting parties!" Gabriel leaned against an outer castle wall and sighed as the frigid night air cooled the stone and eased his raging headache.
         I cannot stay long or I shall endanger my father and mother, he thought, running a shaking hand through his midnight black hair. But if I leave, the hunters may follow and hurt innocent people along the way.
         He shook his throbbing head and trudged down the twisting corridors to his chambers, passing suits of armor reeking with the smell of recent polishing and portraits of family members long dead. He swept aside the indigo wool tapestry and walked to his desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and a blunted piece of lead. Gabriel scribbled on the page, normally courtly lettering now mere smears. Folding the paper and placing it in his belt, he walked to his wardrobe and grabbed a set of saddlebags. Gabriel filled them with four changes of leggings and tunics as well as underclothes, parchment and ink, a blanket, and candles with steel and flint. He also grabbed a small pendant of a silver pentagram with a green stone in the center and fastened it around his neck, then threw a grey hooded cloak around his shoulders. Gabriel left the room, his bags clutched in his shaking hands.

         He shook his head and pushed the other images into the back of his mind. The dark stone walls disappeared, the tapestries replaced with a dart board and beer ads. He snatched his coat from the chair and stood, feeling the eyes of the bartender burning holes into his backside. He walked out of the bar and continued on his path. Gainsborough, he thought, is my name no longer, just as that life is not mine.
         Gabriel watched the streetlight over his head flicker, then go out and smiled as a woman in a navy blue business suit jump and turn the opposite way, clutching her chest and speed walking. A teen in a black hoody with “Jimmy Eat World” written in shaking red print across the front curled into himself as he walked, head bobbing with a CD player in his hand. Gabriel shook his head and sighed. Aww…Stupid mortal’s cold. Constantly needing protection from everything. I may be young for a vampire, but I don't need anything.
         I've seen the stages of development of man-kind for over two hundred years, but they're still nothing. They're prey, a food source when I need it and nothing more.
         No one will ever be my companion, he thought as a man kissed a woman's smiling cheek. There is no one to share my pain and love, to live forever at my side.
         But no human has ever been anything for me, nor any vampire. If I didn't know better, I'd say I'm destined to be alone.

Chapter 2

         Kayla strolled out of the bowling alley, crashing pins and laughter at her back. Neon orange lights from the sign reading “Cosmic Midnight Bowling” cast shadows over the envelope in her hand. She smiled as she passed stores with lights on overhead but only appliances, clothes, and toys inside and houses with one or two lights burning in an upstairs window. That was sweet of Bruce to invite me to his party, especially when I just met him.
         The cement and red-brick path to the apartment led through a playground engulfed in shadows cast down by the waning moon. Kayla sat in one of the black plastic swings in this dead park, no sound besides her breathing and the screech of the metal swing set above her head, no movement besides her own creations.
         Kayla sighed and pumped her legs, and the swing began to move back and forth. I don't remember ever swinging or digging in the sandbox with anyone but Draven, she thought as she gained height. Staring out over the park, a scene began to play before her.
         The sun overhead, shone over the playground. The shadows had melted into shades of yellow and red, and children were playing with a ball or chasing each other.
         But one little girl, with midnight black hair and haunted jade eyes, cast a shroud of darkness over the playground, as if a shadow had seeped into the park. She stood behind a bench, her hands curled around the top board. Her eyes were fixed on an empty swing.
         As she let go of the bench, she took two steps toward the swing, her head down. She wrapped her fingers around the swing’s chain just as it was yanked from her hand. Startled, she looked up into the face of a seven-year-old boy with frizzled wheat-colored curls hanging over maple eyes, mud-stained jeans and a t-shirt with Mickey Mouse covering a well-stuffed body. He gave her a merciless smile and sat on the swing, his back to her. The girl's eyes filled with tears as she turned away, hanging her head and covering her face with her hands.
         Taking in a shallow breath, she looked around the playground again, seeing an open place on the merry-go-round. She walked at a snail's pace towards it, avoiding glares from the children in front of her.
         When she reached the merry-go-round, she halted as a girl with red pigtails and cobalt eyes lifted her legs and slowly placed them in the empty spot, her torn pink dress lifting over bare knees.
         "Get out of the sun, you might burn," she growled, turning away and laying her hands on her knees.
         Kayla shook her head and blinks as she looked at the other swings, seeing them hanging lifeless and empty. The shadows seeped back into the playground, as if a demon was being summoned and its evil spread down the slide and up the teeter-totter. Kayla stood, shaking her head once more, and walked through the sandpit. What the hell was that?

         Kayla looked at the glowing-green face of her black sports watch as she reached the front door. Oh crap, Draven's gonna kill me... Letting out her breath, she put her hand on the door knob and turned it.
         The door was seized from her hand as Draven glared down at her. "Do you know what time it is?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
         "Uhh.... two?" she replied, ducking her head and hiding her hands behind her back.
         "Actually, it's more like four!" Draven yelled, pulling Kayla through the doorway and slamming the door behind her.
         Kayla looked up into her brother's face with eyes the size of dinner plates as she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Draven." Her voice came out as a squeak.
         He sighed and gripped her shoulders in his Barbarian hands. "I know you're sorry, but I'm tired of sitting here worrying all night! You could at least call or leave a note!" Draven turned away, running one hand through his hair as he dropped the other to his side. "Just ... go to bed." He trudged to his room and closed the door.
         Kayla shook her head and walked into the kitchen. I thought I did leave a note. She opened a cabinet overhead and pulled out a box of brownie bites, setting it on the counter. Popping open the box, she took one package out and put the box back in the cabinet. As she tore open the bag, she glanced down into the trash can. Is that my note? she wondered as she picked a paper out of the can. Wait a minute, she sighed, then shook her head. It's only a receipt. She dropped the paper back in the trash.
         Kayla ripped open the package and drove her hand inside, pulling a miniature brownie from inside. She stuffed it in her mouth as she walked into her room, closing the door behind her. Kayla laid the bag on her nightstand and flopped onto her bed on her back. She sighed and reached out, turning on her radio. A tinny voice boomed from the speakers, speaking in fast-forward.
(indent)"The body was found with nearly all blood drained. As of right now, police are unaware of the exact cause of death. We will keep you posted as more information is released."
         Kayla shook her head as she turned off the radio and put on a pair of cobalt blue fuzzy pajama pants covered in white clouds and yellow stars. Climbing into bed and pushing aside two stuffed pandas, a small and a large Stitch, a penguin with a purple scarf and hat, a worn purple Popple, an otter, a baby seal, and a purple wizard, a chill ran down her spine like an ice cube sliding down her skin. How disgusting that someone would actually do that, she thought as she fell asleep.

         Draven sighed as he lay back in his bed, tugging a black pillow under his head. Where does she always go? he wondered, and why does she stay out so late? She knows how much I worry about her!
         But she's young... and should be able to do what she wants. Resting a hand on his forehead, he closed his eyes. I guess I should leave her alone. He looked toward the window, smiling at the waning moon sitting just above the horizon in the cloudless sky.
         If she's this lonely at this age... she may never get married or anything like that. And maybe she'll turn out like me...
         Draven shook his head and forced the walled-in memories to stay still, though one broke through his barriers.

         ...a dark stone hallway with two torches burning in scones along the walls...

         no...

         ...the Lord and Lady of the manor huddling over a cloth bundle….

         no...

         ...a baby wrapped in cloth against a woman's breast for the last time...

         NO!! Draven wrenched the pillow from beneath his head and threw it at the window, breathing hard. How could I have even thought of that? Too painful... too long ago and far too painful...
         Draven sat up like a puppet on strings and looked out the window again. This is where I belong, he thought, alone in my room at the end of the night. But I can't stay here. Draven stood and padded on bare feet to the window, resting his hand on the lock. He opened the lock and stepped through the opening, feet touching the cement balcony. He took in a wheezing breath and climbed onto the railing, curling his toes around the top iron bar. He then pushed with his feet and let his body fall to the ground.
         Draven landed in a crouch with his knees bent and fingertips to the pavement of the parking lot. He strode around the silent cars of his neighbors before he found the beaten dirt path. Staring up into the trees, he walked toward a lake and strolled around the still waters. His outline was visible in the water, though it was nothing more than an outline. . I wonder if Kayla can see her reflection. Most of us can't, but she's not even...He sighed, hanging his head.
         Glancing at the water again showed the moon mostly hidden by the horizon while the sun just began to peak on the other side.
         He closed his eyes, but when they reopened, the landscape had changed.

         A castle courtyard at least two hundred years old stood before him with a large, moss-covered, weather-worn fountain spewing sparkling waters in the center. His clothes had changed to a dun tunic and breeches, while the woman at his side wore a faceted royal purple silk and lace gown.
         "Draven... there is something I should tell you...," she said in a hushed voice, turning away from him to look at the fountain.
         "Feel free to speak, your ladyship," he replied, staring at his feet.
         "Well... where to begin?" she asked with a hint of a laugh. "You may already know that you live with people that are not your birth parents."
         Giving a nod, he turned his gaze to the fountain. "Yes, ladyship. I have been aware for quiet a long time."
         "Have you any... thoughts of who your blood family may be?"
         "Actually, none at all, madam."
         "Well, Draven...," she turned to him with tears in her eyes. "I am your mother."
         His jaw started to drop, but he pulled it up to meet the top of his mouth with a snap. "That... cannot be possible... I am a commoner, and..." Shaking his head, he looked down. "Pardon my saying so, ladyship, but you must be joking."
         "Have you ever seen my son, Gabriel?" she asked. "He looks almost exactly like you, Draven. Like a-"
         "Twin," he finished for her, eyes fighting to stay in his skull. Draven held the side of his head and closed his eyes, wetting his lips. "But... why? Why was I brought up in this manner?"
         "It was so difficult to give you up, but we had no other choice," she answered, tears glistening on her cheeks. "My husband, your father, had a brilliant idea,” she murmured, rolling her eyes. “He thought that giving one of our twin babies away at your birth would decrease the chance of any battles between you as you grew older."
         "How... how would the two of us being twins cause any problems?" Draven asked, rubbing his temples with his thumb and index finger.
         "Why, hundreds of things, I should think. Brothers quarrel over everything, it seems. Fights over girls, titles, land... We did not want to give you away, but it seems you have been treated well."
         "I had wondered why I was called to you today...," he said, four bricks from the house of truth resting on his shoulders dropping to the ground. "I had thought I had done something wrong." His voice chilled to a frigid wind. "But I see now; I have done nothing besides what has been expected of me. You gave me away to stop any problems...but why me and not Gabriel?"
         She sighed and looked up at him. "We could not choose, Draven. Your father walked into the nursery as you boys slept and took one of you. And I do hope that one day you may be able to forgive our terrible crime and accept Lord Eden and I as your true mother and father.”
         Draven nodded and stared into the evening sky. "So... I am your son...and I have a twin brother..."
         "Yes, Draven."
         "But what am I to do now? Am I to go back to my peasant family? Or do I stay and live here...with your family?"
         "That choice I leave to you. Your father and I would absolutely love to have you stay with us...but it is impossible now."
         "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice like a man dying of this in the middle of an ocean.
         "Well, you brother has...made an error. Because of this error, he has been sent into somewhat of an exile. And, if you were seen here by anyone, we may lose our social status, our land, and we would lose you again as well."
         Draven sighed and turned away. "I believe I understand...but do the peasants know?"
         "Know of what?"
          "Do they know that I am part of the nobility?"
         "I am not sure. They may think your resemblance to Gabriel uncanny yet coincidental, but, on the other hand, they may be entirely unaware."
         "That might explain why I was unaware as well. I do not believe that anyone could keep a secret of that magnitude."
         "You are probably right," she said with a laugh. "But I believe you may have stayed here too long. I did my best in keeping this area empty, but I am unsure of how long our secrecy will last."
         Draven gave a nod and bowed. "Of course, madam. I pray the evening is eventful for you, and I bid thee good day." He turned and began to walk away, but he was halted by a hand on his shoulder.
         "My son...you may want to take a cloak," his mother whispered, tugging a wool cloak from her arm and handing it to him with a smile, tears burning in her eyes. "Conceal yourself well, Draven. You may return here at any time you wish, but be sure to always wear this cloak outside of your home. Be careful of what you tell your peasant family about your visit to me today. You must be going now, my son." She held out her arms and he hugged her, blinking as her bulging stomach touched his.
         "Thank you, mother," he said softly, "for telling me the truth. I promise I will be careful to conceal my face, but I must be going. The day grows late, and my...family shall worry. Good day, mother."
         "Good day, Draven."
         He turned and walked away, pulling the hood of the cloak over his head.

         Draven shook his head as he looked down at the water, watching the wobbly end of a sunrise. Time to go, he thought, turning back up the bank and heading down the trail.
         He lifted his head and sighed, staring up at the watery sky. How could I have even thought of the last chapter of that tale? he thought. It has been in my nightmares for almost two hundred years, so why would I bring them to my conscious mind as well?
         As he walked, the houses he passed came alive as people began their morning routines. How I envy them. These people have their own lives and full families.
         Wandering up the worn wooden stairs to the apartment, he opened the door and shut it. Taking off his shoes, Draven looked toward Kayla’s door and blinked. “Why is it open?” He walked down the small hallway and looked inside.
         Kayla squashed a stuffed panda against her chest as she snored. Her blanket lay sprawled on the floor, and Draven pulled over her body until the top reached her shoulders. He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead.
         "Sweet dreams, Kayla," he whispered and stood, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. Draven walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer by his shins, tugging a frying pan from a stack. Setting it on the stove, he opened the refrigerator and dragged a carton of eggs from under a loaf or white bread.

         After fixing bacon, sausage, eggs, and biscuits for himself and Kayla, Draven took his plate to the table to eat. Damn, this place is dead, he thought as he looked around the living room. The black leather sofa and love seat looked like they had been wrapped in plastic for years, not even a crease in the fabric. The cherry wood coffee table shone with polish and the sunlight glinted off its surface as it streamed through the picture window. Stabbing his force into the eggs and pulling a bit free, Draven glanced toward Kayla’s closed door and sighed as he continued eating.

         Kayla appeared as Draven set his dirty dishes in the sink, and he smiled at her approach. "Good morning, sunshine," he said, holding his arms out. She gave him a sleepy smile and hugged him. "How are you this morning?"
         "Tired," she replied, her voice muffled in his shirt. "Why are you up so early? You don't have classes until later."
         He shrugged. "I just felt like waking up early and making you breakfast before you left for school."
         She eyed him with raised eyebrows and smirked. "What's the catch?"
         "There's no catch," Draven answered, blinking. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."
         "Well, thank you, Draven."
         "You're welcome." He walked to the couch and laid down on his back, turning on the TV with the remote control on the coffee table.
         A news report showed a blacktop space behind a restaurant, yellow crime scene tape flapping in the breeze created by police officers, firefighters, and FBI agents running back and forth between their vehicles and a pile of bulging black garbage bags. A man in a tan trench coat held a microphone and spoke in fast forward.
         "I'm standing here, where, only last night, a young man was found dead. His body was nearly drained of blood for no logical reason that the authorities could tell. But a cause of death may have been found. It seems that puncture wounds were found on the man's neck near his spinal column.” As he spoke, the camera angle changed and zoomed in on the puncture wounds. “According to authorities, there are no clues to the whereabouts of the killer, but this seems like the work of a vampire," the reporter finished as the camera returned to his face and he laughed.
         Draven went rigid as he turned off the TV. Did I do that? Did I kill a man and leave his body in an alley? He trembled as he sat up. "Oh, no..," he said in a shaky whisper.
         "What is it, Draven?" Kayla asked, walking over to him. "You're completely white."
         He shook his head as if he were under water and waves refused to let him move and let out his breath. "It's nothing, just..." Should I tell her? he wondered, looking up at his little sister. Should I tell her how I probably killed that man? "Just... I know that guy. He's in one of my classes."
         She wrapped her arms around his shoudlers and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry, Draven. I know these things probably make you sick, too, but when it's this close to home, it just.. makes me so angry and upset. I can't do anything to help them, and then I feel-"
         "Kayla, calm down. I'm sure things will turn out all right," he reassured her.
         She gave him a wobbly smile and walked back to her breakfast.
         Why am I always forced to lie to her like that? Why can't I tell her the truth one of these days?
         Because you're afraid of what she'll say, a voice squeaked from the back of his mind, as if it had tried to stay as quiet as possible but still be heard. And she's all you have. You couldn't bare it is she said that you were a monster. You couldn't stand to lose her.
         Draven sighed and closed his eyes. You're right. I am afraid to lose her. And that's why I can't tell her the truth.
         He stood and walked into his room, closing the door behind him. Draven dressed in a white button-down shirt and jeans, tucking his necklace beneath his shirt. He ran a comb through his hair and glanced at the mirror, staring into a misty form as his reflection. Draven put on black combat boots and laced them up the front, then opened his door.
         "Leaving so soon?" Kayla asked from the kitchen through a mouthful of bacon.
         "I might as well get there early," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "How do I look?"
         "You look fine, but why do you always ask me that? You have a mirror in your room; use it."
         Shaking his head, he answered, "I like your opinion over mine."
         She smiled. "Aww.. thanks, Draven." As he walked toward the door, Kayla gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Have fun at school."
         Slipping on his trench coat, he smiled. "I will. Don't get too bored in class."
         "That's what my books are for."
         "Good point. I'll see ya later."
         "Bye, Draven."
         He headed out the door, setting round black sunglasses over his eyes. He walked down the stairs toward his jeep and unlocked the door, climbing inside and shutting it behind him. Starting the car, he tugged his seatbelt over his torso and turned the radio, turning a knob until electric guitars screamed from the speakers. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking lot and onto the main road, then switched to drive and sped down the street.
         If only I actually did have classes. Then I wouldn’t be completely lying her to her. Gods, I can’t’ even remember the last time I was inside a university.
         Yet another lie, he thought; something else I'll have to tell her later on. But will I be able to do it?

         Sliding her backpack strap over her left shoulder, Kayla glanced at her reflection in the mirror by the front door. Her sky blue tank top cut across her chest, only a bit of cleavage showing above the neckline, and her baggy jeans hung from her hips. She tugged on her high heeled black boots and smiled. Damn, I'm good, she thought, blowing a kiss into the mirror.
         She walked out the door, locking it behind her, and put on a pair of ruby-red sunglasses. Kayla sighed and moved down the stairs, around the back of the building, and on toward a worn dirt path between pine and oak trees.
         Strange that I never see anybody down here, she thought, running her fingers through her hair. But it’s probably a good thing because I need to get this image out of my head.
         She sighed and rubbed her hands together. But what's wrong with Draven?, she wondered, seeing his reaction to the man’s murder again in her head. She watched the color drain from his face as if it had been sucked out when the reporter has said "vampire,” but why?
         Maybe he's as worried as I am about that man's family, she thought, but I doubt it. Draven's stronger than that.
         She shook her head as another image left ripples in her brother’s picture. Bruce was so sweet. I still can’t believe he invited me to the bowling alley with his friends. I mean, they only gave me a few funny looks before they were awesome…. She sighed and looked at her feet. And they’re still the only friends I’ve ever been close to having.
         Kayla grinned, fighting to keep the smile attached to her face.

         As she neared the back of the school, she noticed a blurry figure walking toward her.
         "Hi, Kayla," it called, waving an arm over its head.
         Kayla smiled and trotted toward it. "Hey, Bruce!" She ran to meet him, then he turned with her toward the school. "How are you?"
         "I'm pretty good, hun. How're you?" he asked, draping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side.
         She bit her lip, holding down a giggle. "I'm fine ... but what're you doing here? I didn't think anyone knew I came this way."
         "I've been watching you, Kayla," he said, grinning down at her. "I told you that already, didn't I?"
         She nodded and blushed. "I think so ... but you've never met me out here before. Why now?"
         "I've finally realized my feelings for you." He pulled her to a halt and turned her to face him. "I like you, Kayla. I think I even love you." His eyes like drowning pools, and Kayla blinked. Be careful, instinct told her. You hardly know him, and he knows you even less.
         But he looks like he means it, she countered.
         Just watch out for yourself.
         Blinking again, she felt the heat in her cheeks grow to a blazing fire. "D.... do you m-mean that?"
         "Of course I do." He lifted a hand and ran his sausage fingers through her hair. "You're a beautiful woman, inside and out, and I'd love to get to know you better." He lowered his hand to her chin and tilted her head up.
         Bruce's lips fell on hers like a log after the lumberjack’s saw hit for the final time, and she closed her eyes, enveloped in his arms. Ohmygods…
         "Bruce, did you come out here?" a voice shouted down the path.
         Bruce pulled away and sighed. "Yeah, I'll be there in a sec." He looked down at Kayla. "I'm so sorry, babe, but I have to go. You'll come to my party on Friday, right?"
         "Of course," she whispered. "You'd better go."
         He kissed her cheek and ran toward the school.
         Kayla put a hand on her cheek, her fingertips resting on her swollen lips. She sighed and hugged her upper body. "I'm not alone anymore," she said, twirling around in a circle.
         As the morning bell rang in the distance, Kayla skipped toward the school.

         Draven drove through a forest, following a dirt path between the trees made by worn tire tracks. After he hopped out of his jeep, he wandered into a large lean-to with a rusted metal roof and crumbling wooden walls. He slipped through a space between the wood and looks around inside.
         A half-melted candle sat on a table in the center of the room. A tree stump had been placed next to the table. A shelf with a white blanket, a scarlet baby’s bonnet, and a black cloak hung by two nails in the wall, a crude bed and a throw pillow scattered across the floor.
         Draven sat down on the stump and pulled his back pack from his shoulders, setting it in his lap. Unzipping the bag, he tugged a book from the inner pocket along with a box of matches with T.G.I. Friday’s scrawled on the side and set them on the table. Ripping a match from the book, he ran the head across the table and watched the match ignite, then touched the flame to the candle.
         Maybe I should find somewhere else to spend my days, he thought as he flipped through the book. Hanging out like a wanna-be hermit isn't working too well for me.
         But I don't have a whole lot of a choice. He sighed. I'm shunned by people who know me, and if I ever get a friend, someone would scare them off.
         Setting the book down, he heard Kayla's voice in his mind.
         "What is it, Draven?"
         Does she know? he asked himself. Does she know why I was worried?
         "I really hope not," he answered the empty room. "I'm scared to know what she would say if she truly did know."