Chapter One:

Nelle, what do you know?

Read this first!:

Hey everyone! I'm letting you know up front. I don't own anything. Not Companions of the Night, its characters, it cliff hangers, etc. I do own other things. Like, I bought the paperback edition of C.o.t.N. at Barnes & Nobles, but I'm not about to give that away either. I own a crap load of manga and anime DVDs. Want those? Can't have those either, sorry. But I can give you some info. Like, hints on where this fan fiction is going to go.

Ohh, and also, this is my first fan fiction! Aren't you proud? No? You're just mad I wouldn't give you my manga. Don't you wanna know what Nelle knows? Oh, yeah, you need to read the chapter first before I make sense.

"Kerry," called Ian, knocking loudly on her door. She rolled over, staring at her ceiling seeing the moon's glow illuminate shadowy silhouettes of the trees neighboring the house. Ian opened her door, and peeked in disregarding the creaking noise the door emitted. When Kerry opened one eye, she saw her younger brother staring at her from the side of the bed. He had a portrait of confusion plastered on his exaggeratedly childish face. His hair disheveled, and his green striped pajamas slicked to his sweating little figure. He moaned as Kerry closed her eyes momentarily, sighing. He shoved her shoulder to rouse her into alertness. She shrugged it off, turning around to ignore him. Unfortunately, Ian's moan escaladed into sobs as he rubbed at his watering eyes. Kerry's eyes jolted open, and she faced his sorrowful and puzzled face. Kerry could guess what had happened.

"Nightmare?" she whispered, barely able to remain awake.

"Kerry…," he said, crying softer and pulling on the sleeve of her nightgown," in my nightmare, I —"

"In the morning, you can tell me." Kerry interrupted him, and hoisted him up onto her bed, comforting him until he fell asleep without hyperventilating. He caressed his stuffed koala, Footsy, who had witnessed better days. She smiled at the bear, paying tribute to the memory of Ethan. Michel, she corrected mentally. She decided Michel suited him better anyway. She shook her head, dispelling his face from her mind, scolding herself for the reverie. She exhaled, and remembered how Michel had just slumped into sleep that day in the closet. She longed to be able to snap asleep like him, without cause or worry to stay awake. She thought she might have inherited insomnia from her trauma, though she knew that wasn't what kept her awake. Tonight was the only night in months she wasn't lying conscious on her bed waiting for sunrise. She drew from memory the features and contours of the sunrise, and the hues of color bringing melancholy remembrance. What are you waiting for? She asked herself mentally, as she stroked Ian's head letting him be drawn into a serene sleepiness. She didn't know what kept her awake, and caused the detachment of her emotions. She felt as if she had a soul-drawn-out-of-body experience. The settings and people that surrounded her barely solicited her interest and attention recently. As if her emotion were sealed, and she viewed the scene from another point of view. She tried vainly to relax her muscles in order to continue the sleep she had before Ian had woke her up purposely. Even Ian has been adopting strange behaviors, she noticed. He has been having terrible nightmares, afterwards obtaining silence to her interrogating. He didn't remember his dreams she mused when she wondered why he wouldn't tell her about the content of the dream. She felt sympathetic toward her little brother for his fear and weaknesses only a child could exhibit. She missed the days she had spent with the family--just her dad, mom, brother, and herself. She had wrote to her mother recently being that her address was the only contact information she had from her. She had received a reply letter in the mail from her mother today. It wouldn't have been so unnerving to open if her dad hadn't seen the letter first. She had spotted him this afternoon clutching the letter, and scanning the writing when Kerry strolled through the front door's threshold. He didn't look up until he reached the bottom of the letter. Then, a slightly redder and angrier father faced her entrance. She frowned, and watched him warily.

"What's that? Are you okay?" Kerry had questioned innocently. Why would she assume her mother would write back after three months?

The air in the room became stifling, and she remained motionless as her father ranted and paced the living room.

"Why didn't you tell me you contacted your mother? Was I not a good enough father for you, Kerry? I raised you and Ian, didn't I? Now, you go behind my back and converse with that—"he yelled, only stopping to notice Ian crouching between a space in the upstairs loft railing as he watched the one-sided conversation wide-eyed. Kerry hadn't noticed him sitting there either. Ian shifted uncomfortably at the eyes burning on him, so he darted to his room. Her dad turned his focus on her once again. She felt embarrassed, and a blush tinted her cheeks. She had moved out, wasn't under his legal control, and had stopped by for a visit to see her family, she mentally noted.

"Listen, dad—" she had started.

"No, Kerry! I'm going out. Watch Ian for me." he commanded, and then stormed out of the house, slamming the front door which made the walls tremble. So far, he hadn't come home. She wasn't about to call him, and belittle herself and pride when she hadn't done anything worth consequences. After assuring herself it wasn't her fault, she fell asleep even if it was a fitful one.

Around eleven in the morning, Ian roused from slumber. He bounced off her bed, the mattress shaking her awake. She ushered him into the kitchen and placed him on a barstool, and began to hastily make breakfast. She wasn't a talented chef, and wasn't about to hone her skills now. She brought out two bowls, and poured a cascade of chunky, colored, oddly shaped cereal into the bowls. She brought one to Ian at the counter and tossed him a spoon, and the other she ate leaning against the kitchen counter. Before she could finish her cereal, which tasted oddly bland anyway, her dad shuffled down the stairs after emerging from the master bedroom. He eyed the Ian and Kerry in the kitchen, and sat at the barstool next to Ian, rubbing his son's back apologetically. At the sight of him, her appetite for breakfast wavered, but her upchuck reflex kicked her. Without saying a word, she hurried out of the kitchen, past the two at the barstools, grabbed her jacket and small suitcase she had abandoned at the door, and then departed. Her father got up from his stool, and leaned out of the front door. When she didn't answer his yelling, he sprinted out the door, and down the drive. She stopped temporarily, wondering about the effects of plowing her father with the car. He thrust the ripped envelope addressed to her containing the letter into the car, then turned on his heels jogging back towards the house. Little Ian stood speechless in the window next to the door as he waved timidly. She smiled and returned the gestured as kindly as she could muster before driving away.

Driving in the countryside was tricky! Roads twisting on foothills dangerously and the flat land filled with fields and picturesque views charmed her, but she wasn't hesitant on returning to her apartment in the city. Her father and brother relocated shortly after their kidnapping suggesting that Brockport was unsafe. She desired to stay, though she decided to move out of their previous residence. She lived in Brockport still, but due to its expansion she lived in more of a downtown area near her job and university. The drive to her new apartment would be a good two hours, and her plans on staying with her family over the weekend had been diminished. So, she suddenly swerved into the parking lot of a local restaurant, and parked sloppily. She grabbed the letter from her mother, and pulled it out of the shredded envelope, and it read:

Dearest Kerry,

I was very excited to hear from you! It has been so long. I was starting to wonder if you had forgotten about me. I am now living on the East Coast in Florida! Ocean and sunshine all year long! I am now single. My other relationship didn't work out, but no regrets. I'm living happily on my own, but I'm looking forward to your reply to my letter. I imagine living with your father is starting to get boring, no? I was hoping you would come and visit me this summer. Will you? I haven't seen you in so long. I really do miss you no matter what your father says. For years I've been sending cards to you and Ian, but they always return to me. I guessed it because you were going to move on without me, and I lived regretting leaving. But there is still time for us to bond, yes? Please consider.

Love your mother,

Lizabeth

She reread the letter until the owner of the car parked her to hers knocked on her window noisily. After pushing the button to roll down the window, she listened to the fat middle-aged man complain that she was blocking his exit. She obliged and backed out, then returned to the direction of home. She memorized the number on the business card her mother had enclosed in the envelope also while navigating through intersections. She tried to conjure the image of her mother on the last occasion she had seen her before she left. She had been thin, tan, and blond. With that image she could picture her mother matching Florida's oceanic picturesque. Her mother had been in her early thirties when she left with a doctor she had met in town. She had dropped her family in an instant without notice. Kerry was content towards her mother now, not the anger or guilt that she had harbored for years. She relished the fact that her mother had also regretted her actions, and before she felt her tears, she saw the dark tear streaks accenting her face with running mascara. After parking, she slumped in the front seat and wiped at her face trying to fix the makeup. When tears threatened to dissolve all of her makeup, she gave up and got out of her blue convertible, drawing the roof up and locking the car doors with two pushes of a button. She pranced up to the elevator and scampered in with a couple engrossed in conversation. A girl near Kerry's age of 18 held hands with the guy next to her, and conversed on the topic of recent movies.

"Oh, that movie was such a bore." The girl complained, objecting his suggestion on Mission Impossible III.

"Nelle," he whined rather femininely, "you can't expect me to see a chick flick."

Nelle donned a face that let him know she was upset.

"You offered to take me on a date to see any movie. Now, you only want to see some violent movie with all men!" she stated, trying to disguise the illogic of his thinking that her comment implied. He looked down at her, and rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand out of her grip. She pulled away, and looked around the elevator, spotting Kerry.

"Why don't we have this date another time?" Nelle suggested quietly, her unusually somber tone setting in exhibiting her discomfort.

He sighed, and then walked haughtily out of the elevator.

"Lets not." He commented as he retreated. Nelle looked over her shoulder at Kerry just as Kerry looked away trying to feign disinterest to disguise her eavesdropping. Nelle moved to the rear of the elevator next to Kerry and exhaled loudly, shaking her head.

"Kerry, you're back early." she observed, staring at the back of Kerry's turned head. Kerry faced her, and shrugged.

"Something happen to Ian?" she questioned when Kerry's face wasn't smiling.

"No. Looks like we are both having a bad day?" she presumed.

Nelle frowned, then with a huge smile said, "No, actually, that was my third date today. I only agreed because he is the son of my mother's boss."

Kerry couldn't help but laugh at Nelle's shamelessness. Covering her mouth, trying to dispel the laugh as an unrealistic cough, but the laugh was uncontrollable while Nelle just beamed.

"He was a jerk anyway," Nelle continued, "I was hoping to bump into you though I knew you were with your family. I thought you would save me. I noticed your brave efforts in my favor, and I saw you listening. So, I had been arguing with him about the movies the whole way. Damn, I thought he would never leave." She finished with an exaggerated scowl on her face, and Kerry giggled.

"So, Kerry, found any men yet?" she changed the subjects, grinning.

"Men? As in plural?" asked Kerry glaring at Nelle, "Not as many as you. No."

Nelle pulled on her arm, pleading. "Then Kerry, Want to go out? We can find you someone? Please? You never go with me to bars!"

Kerry scrutinized Nelle for a moment before stating the obvious.

"Nelle, the age for consumption of alcohol is 21!"

Nelle looked startled.

"Yes, but you forget."

"Yes?"

"We are 21!" Nelle yelled, proudly, as she wrenched out two ids from her overfilled tote.

"Nelle!" she scolded, as she stared at the image of her self with an incorrect birth date, but she had to admit—they did look real—real enough to use that is.

Kerry contemplatively held on to the idea of what consequences awaited them after such an outing.

"I don't know, Nelle." rejected Kerry, disposing of the longing to drink.

"Kerry! You never go." She whined, "Don't you want to find a guy?"

Kerry thought about that. Did she want a guy? Yes, she decided, but not any one that was currently available to her. She wanted Michel. She couldn't explain her lust for an age-impaired vampire to Nelle. Other than the truth, she couldn't muster a liable excuse to escape to her apartment.

She sighed, defeated.

"I got homework, Nelle." She lied, making the face of someone upset over not attending, disappointment covering her insincere face.

Nelle frowned, and her eyebrows paired with her suspiciously squinting eyes let on the face that Kerry was lying. Nell placed her hands strategically on her hips and pursed her lips. Kerry watched her, waiting expectantly for her outburst. Kerry believed she was never a talented liar.

Not like Michel………..oh, no not this, Kerry mentally screamed. On second thought, Kerry pulled the I.D. out of Nelle's hand, dragging her out of the elevator when it chimed announcing the opening doors. She dragged a surprised Nelle through the parking lot, and into her car. Nelle slipped into the passenger seat, smiling slyly. Kerry started the car, and avoided Nelle's sparkling face.

She must think I'm agreeing due to her part, Kerry thought. Wrong, it was the thought of Michel… no thinking, only driving!

Kerry shut her eyes, shaking her head to clear her thought dancing wildly on her consciousness. Nelle stared at her wide-eyed as they narrowly missed an oncoming collision. Thanks to Nelle's quickness, she had managed to grab the wheel in time, jolting Kerry. She snapped alert, returning the car into the correct placement in the lane. The driver drove on, barely aware of his near death experience, and Kerry hyperventilated. Nelle shook Kerry's right shoulder, and screamed shakily.

"Kerry! Pay attention! You could have killed us! Geez, what has gotten into you?"

Kerry ignored her, and concentrated on driving. She could hear her cell phone beeping every five minutes, and wondered who had called, but not bothering to check while fuming. Within minutes the angry silence dissolved though, and they were back to talking spiritedly.

"So, Kerry, what is your type?" interrogated Nelle, then she spring her up indicating pausing. "Wait! Let me guess! Tell me if I'm right?"

Kerry agreed and abided to answer Nelle's humorous guesses.

"Let me see, in the eight grade, you like that one boy? What's-his-name? Surfer kid, remember. So you like tanned guys?"

Kerry took her immediate attention off driving, and gaped at Nelle.

"I did not! You liked him! Wasn't his name…Chase? No, I don't like tans."

Nelle giggled at the truth, and continued.

"Then, umm...You like pale men then? No tans, right?" noted Nelle out loud. Then, Nelle had an overhead light bulb turn on as inspiration struck her, leaving her frowning.

"You don't like older men, do you?" she asked, practicing vomiting gestures in her seat, and laughing.

Nelle was always like that, Kerry noticed, she was always so… energetic. She always pulls me out of my problems. Is that why we have been friends for so long?

"No," Kerry informed before Nelle took the silence as yes. "No older men. That's gross." But wasn't Michel an older man? She asked herself.

"What about eyes and hair? What color?" asked Nelle, looking for a response.

Without thinking, Kerry blurted out, "Black or dark hair, blue eyes, pale skin, lean figure with slight muscles."

Nelle leaned back in her seat, looking at Kerry blankly.

Nelle shifted in her seat, and searched Kerry's eyes.

"You know, Kerry, I know why you're acting strange." She started, staring at her hands as she wrung them. "I wish you would have told me, though.

Kerry looked at her best friend appraisingly.

Does she know? Kerry wondered inwardly. Oh, Geez. I don't want to talk about Michel now… not after almost two years. Nelle, how do you know? she wondered.