Yay!! Second part up! Sweet!

Oh and just to let you know, I do own these characters!

She eyed him warily. "Next time, I'm walking out." She placed her hands on the table and continued her tale. "Everything was perfect until I turned eleven. I started to notice small things. Some how I knew I wasn't like my father; I didn't look a thing like him." She let out a small laugh. "I'm going to need a drink before I continue. It's a long story."

As if he knew what she were thinking, Sam was there by the table with a glass of tea. "Thanks. Now where was I?"

"Something 'bout your father," I replied casually, taking another drink from my own cup. I couldn't' take my eyes off her as she spoke. I watched her lips move, the words pouring from them like sweet honey; her voice like a chorus of angels singing the dawn to life.

"Right," she said. "I mean, I didn't think much about me being different. I just thought I took after my mom," she explained while taking a sip of her tea. "I mean, c'mon, how many eleven year olds take the time to ask why they look like one parent and not the other?" She sighed. "But I did and things started to get ugly from then on." She took another drink. "I learned that just shortly after my parents got married, my mother had an affair with one of our neighbors. Sad thing is, I knew him growing up, too. He was always coming over to see how my mother was doing and my father knew it. It broke his heart , too, when he learned that I wasn't his, but he still raised me like his own."

"Seems like a nice guy to me," I said, still tantalized by her voice.

"I loved him and he will always be my father to me. We were always close and when my mother died, we grew closer. I still remember that day. Father said it was an accident; that the hay in the barn was too dry caught fire while she was feeding the horses and it spread too quickly for her to get out." She paused to clear her throat of the sadness that was building in it.

"She always loved it out there," she explained. "My father may have been wealthy, but my mother came from a lower class family. Anyways, after she died, he always waited on me, hand and foot, and doted on me; telling me how proud of me he was and that I was his whole world." She wiped a tear away and smiled, looking up into my eyes. "But I could tell he was hurting every time he looked at me and I know he never forgave my mother, even after the fire took her away, for her infidelity."

I set my cup down and looked back into her pain filled eyes. Tears were streaming down her face, smearing her eyeliner. "I am so sorry..." I whispered, reaching up to wipe her tears away. It was then she noticed the color of my skin and cringed away from my touch.

"Don't touch me, " she hissed. "You're one of them. You're just like the man that fathered me. Are you as cruel as he is? Do you play little torturous games with your victims as he does? Do you rip out their throats and then throw them in the river when you no longer have use for them?" How do I know all this? Well, let me tell you of the atrocities I discovered after my mother died. The man that fathered me would come and ask Father if he could spend time with me. To get to know one another, he said. Being in the position that Father was in he very well couldn't refuse the man, knowing that he was my legitimate father. At first I was excited to be going anywhere away from the farm that Father had sequestered us to for the mourning period of my mother. Then I tried to look for reasons not to go. The man terrified me. The only promise that he kept was that if I didn't wish to see him again after getting to know him, he would never insinuate himself back into my life."

I had to interrupt. "Look here, I'm just being a kind, patient soul who offered some company to a lovely young woman, who seems to be traveling alone in parts that aren't safe to do so. And you accuse me of...what exactly? Being a monster of some kind. I do hope you're only being overly dramatic because of exhaustion, my dear girl." I let my own anger flare. "I am the law in this dangerous area and I see to it that no one is harmed during my nighttime watch. If you still believe me to be some kind of monster that your 'father' has led you to believe all of my kind are, then take a sip of my wine." I slid the cup over to her, a few drops sloshing out onto the table. "It's the very color of blood, but it isn't what you think. Granted, it's an acquired taste; one that I'm quite fond of."

"I...I...I am so sorry, sire," she sputtered at my intendancy of being called a monster by the likes of her. Of course she now knew that she could refuse me almost nothing. She reached for my proffered cup of local wine just to be polite. She took a small sip of the very substance that was almost too bitter to drink. Coughing, she returned my cup to the table."Very nice," she said and then dissolved into a fit of laughter at the blatant lie. I myself had to smile.

"Okay," I said. "Now that you know what I am and that I'm really what I seem to be, please, finish your story. I've only a few hours left until the end of my shift and it's been a long evening."

Eryika looked simply astounded. Astounded that I would still want to listen to her after her rude tirade. But, as I had pointed out, she was exhausted and she really wanted to tell someone her amazing story."I may have said that I trusted you before, but now I do," she said with a sigh. Taking a drink from her tea to get the unwanted taste of my wine off her tongue, she rested her arms on the table. "The truth is, I haven't been honest with you. Remember how I told you that my mother died in the barn with the horses? She did die in the barn and it was on fire, but it wasn't an accident. Someone had found out who my biological father was; more importantly, what he was. They set the barn on fire because it was me they thought was in there playing and feeding the horses."

Her tone then turned somewhat harsh. "The abomination spawn of a human woman and vampire. My mother didn't die when I was eleven, but only a few months ago. By the way, I just turned , I think the only thing that wasn't a lie was that my father was an aristocrat, but he wasn't a loving, doting father. However, my mother was his whole world. He forgave her for everyone of her indiscretions except one; because of me."

I stopped her before she could finish. "If you were lying before, how can I know you're telling the truth right now?"

She glared at me. "Because I am. Do you want me to tell you the truth, or shall I pay for my drink and leave so you can find me later, stuffed in a garbage bin with several limbs missing?"

"I seriously doubt that would happen," I mused, "but continue. I'm dying to know what happens next."

"Then shut up and listen," she growled. "My father was at a complete loss when Mother died. He blamed me for being alive; he blamed me for the reason she was dead. Everything I thought I had was gone." She paused to take another drink from her glass. "Oh, and the part about the offer to spend time with my real father, it wasn't an offer. I was banished from Father's estate forever. Cut off without a dime. I thought that maybe my biological father might be able to help me because, after all, we are blood related. So I showed up at his doorstep asking for a place to stay."

"Let me guess, he welcomed you with open arms and a bleeding heart?" Damn me and my mouth. Betrayed again by carelessness and quick thinking.

Well, there you go! I'll try to have more up by tomorrow, but no promises!

PLEASE LEAVE ME REVIEW! DON'T BE STINGY LIKE ERIYKA'S STEP-DADDY!