The screams ring out – they are not her own, she knows, but the emotion in them mirrors the writhing turmoil in her mind.
Why is that? Why has it always been that way?
Her eyes open; the brightness of torches blinds them for a moment.
Frail. Human frailty. Even locked within herself, deep within her mind, she is frail.
She focuses – the lights splutter and rise, crackling towards the rumbling clouds. One man is standing near her, brandishing a torch in one hand and an ivory cross in the other.
Doubtless, she thinks, he is doing a good deed.
Even dragged behind her tormenters, she manages to halt for a moment to look at the man. All else fades.
And he screams.
Jane's eyes flew open. What had possessed her? Humans slept. Even a false rest, such as some of the vampires had encouraged her to try, left an agonising amount of room for thought; not dreams, exactly, but a bringing of old memories to the fore; pristine, unhampered by time.
Some of her kind might think perfect recall was a bonus. To her, it was torture. And nobody should be able to torture Jane.
Rising softly, she slid off the white leather of the couch, letting her slippers touch the cold marble floor. The shadows on the wall were long; she must have rested for a good hour or so. There should be a meal soon.
She was dressed in an elegant grey gown; created in such a way that its shapely folds and dramatic sweeping train gave the illusion of height and age to her small frame.
Illusion. Everything was an illusion.
Jane chided herself internally. She had been thinking far too much lately. Caius always admonished her, in the gentle way he had when they were alone. Although lately, it would seem he had forgotten his own advice; she often found him, hidden in tiny alcoves of the palace, his eyes so distant.
Snatching her long black robe from the end of the couch, Jane slipped into it, pulling the dark hood over her soft curls. She liked the hood. It gave her a certain sense of security – and not to mention the fact that it seemed to scare the crap out of everyone, vampires and humans alike. Little delights like that were what made living in this miserable world bearable.
Alec was waiting for her at one of the long windows, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned slightly in acknowledgement as she approached, the ever-present smile widening the corners of his mouth.
She clasped the hand he extended, moving to stand beside him.
"You rested."
His voice was one that you could hardly get used to, even though centuries had passed. It always made her grateful that she had such an elegant brother, especially at balls, when people would see the two and whisper admiringly.
"Yes. Never again." She looked out the window; as ever, he had been focusing on the crowds milling below, honing his sense of smell to their different blood types.
"Why? I find it relaxing."
"Dancing is relaxing. Resting is…doesn't it make you think?"
"Yes. And that's a problem?"
"We obviously have very different thought patterns."
"I thought, dearest, that you would have figured that out by now."
His infuriating tone was made bearable by his charming smile, but Jane's eyes narrowed as she smiled back. Alec winced with the slight illusion of pain she sent to him.
"That's not fair."
"Life's not fair."
The twins linked arms and glided towards the banquet hall.
Armad was back. One of the ever-helpful Hyacinth sisters clutched her arm the moment they stepped into the room, eager to be the first to tell Jane the good news. There was to be a ball tonight, a proper one, with gorgeous banquet feast in just an hour. Jane slid her hand out of the woman's' irritably and moved away. The triplets were all far too flighty – beautiful, almost exceptionally so, but far stupider than the average vampire. Alec was fond of the tallest one, though, so she let them live; reducing her feelings towards them to occasional scornful gazes or cutting remarks. At the moment, Amber was nearly going into raptures as Alec produced a small ivory flower he had carved. Jane turned away in disgust.
Armad stood underneath the towering arch of the roof, his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. He was someone who looked good in rich colours – one of the few, in Jane's opinion, comparing him to the black-clad figures that clustered around him, eager to hear the deep bass of his voice as he recounted his various adventures.
She paused a few paces away, never one to compete with a crowd.
"Armad."
Her soft voice was so well known; the others paused, and Armad turned to her, his rich crimson eyes sparkling with delight.
"Jane," he said, excusing himself quickly from the group, and moving to her side. She kissed his proffered lips, her own eyes more excited than usual.
"How are things in the Bacchus clan?"
"Pathetically dull, dear, as ever. The dancing there is so vulgar – but you know what I mean."
Jane smiled. Almost all vampires enjoyed dancing, but Armad was one of the few who shared her deep appreciation for it.
"There's to be dancing tonight, to celebrate your return, you know."
"I should hope so. Do you think you and I together would be able to convince Tia to sing?"
"We shall see. Come. Caius has been dying to see you."
Armad's thick arm encircled her waist as he propelled her forward. Although she could never imagine another sibling than Alec, the relationship she had with Armad held the same strength as that of a brother and sister.
Caius was sitting with Aro on the plush couches that bordered the room. Ivy and Tia sat, elegant and poised as always, smiling graciously at Armad and Jane as they approached. Of all the vampire women, Jane held these two in the deepest respect; both powerful, and of course talented. Aro and Marcus had selected well.
Aro clapped as Armad approached, gripping his old companion's hand with even more than his usual delight. Caius remained calmly seated, a serene smile smoothing itself out along his features. Jane moved to sit on the seat beside him, taking the hand he offered and holding it in her lap.
"Armad. Did you enjoy your travels?"
"Fairly well. Is it just me, or is the world getting more boring by the minute?"
"Didn't I tell you this a few hundred years ago?"
"Several times, but you're the most irritable old bastard I know, so I never take anything you say seriously." Armad said lightly, his smile widening over his glossy white teeth.
Jane gave a rare chuckle. Very few vampires would be impertinent enough to speak so to Caius, but that was something that seemed to characterise Armad for her.
"I found the most delightful little clan while I was there, though. They were just passing through – they had one of the most experienced hunters I've ever come across. You should invite him for a meal, sometime, Aro. He'd be brilliant to hire as a hunter, now that Ignus has gone to live with Zanna and that little boy they love so much."
"That's a good point," said Aro cheerfully. "What's his name?"
"James, I believe. He's a tad vicious, though, so be careful."
"I doubt anyone could match little Jane, but I'll keep that in mind."
Jane smiled contentedly. Her reputation was indeed, as yet, unparalleled; the delicacy and sheer sadistic attention she gave to her victims was something of a worldwide legend. It never ceased to amuse her when younger vampires, like the Hyacinth triplets, tried to mimick her.