I stared into Nathan's luminescent blue eyes. My own eyes tightened slightly, measuring his demeanor, calculating his stance.

Beside me, Millecent pulled in a worried breath. Beside Nathan, James sighed.

"BS," I declared finally.

"Fuck," Nathan muttered, throwing his cards down. "How the hell do you always know?"

"Watch it," Millecent said sharply.

"I didn't know you had such a mouth on you, Nathan," James chuckled.

"Well, I'm pissed. Nobody ever beats me at BS," Nathan snapped, leaning back in his chair and glowering. I smiled warmly and dragged the mountain of Orbits gum to my side of the table.

"I feel bad, taking all your gum like this," I said. Nathan wrinkled his nose.

"Wanna go again?" he demanded, leaning forward.

"You two have been at this for hours," James complained.

"And the boy has yet to win a match," Millecent said, giving one of her rare smiles.

"I think you should at least up the ante," James said. "It's not very intense with chewing gum."

"Says you," Nathan said.

"I remember the old days, when two vampires could play cards for months at a time," Millecent said. "The cards were very different, of course, none of these fancy both-ways numbers and the like. The cards weren't so crisp and flicky, but goodness gracious you could play until three moons passed."

"What'd you bet with?" James asked.

Nathan was dealing cards out, tossing first to me, then to himself. They made a musical swish click noise.

(card CARD card CARD)

"Are noises different for you?" I asked Nathan. "As a vampire, I mean. Are they better or worse?"

Nathan's dealing didn't slow as he looked thoughtfully at the high-vaulted ceiling. "I can't really say. I haven't been human in a long time, and I don't remember most of it."

"Oh," I said.

"We would bet with lives, of course," Millecent told James, as if he was a child. "I won a whole city, once. A whole population of people, all to myself." She sighed.

"Do you like working for Benedikt?" I directed my question at Nathan again, but I was curious what had gotten James and Millecent working for Benedikt, as well.

Nathan beamed like a happy child. "Yes. I really do. There's a big garden and lots of room to run around, and the work is easy so long as I do it right."

"Benedikt is a very pleasant man to work for," James said. "He doesn't have the poor attitude that high ranking vampires usually have."

"He's as messy as a child," Millecent said. Her voice, though sharp, managed to be doting, and she shook her head indulgently. "Silly, reckless boy."

"How come you work for him?" I asked.

"Millecent and I both needed a more peaceful atmosphere," James said after a brief, almost unnoticeable pause. "We both came from... harsher realities. As Millie's card histories suggest," he added, his tone teasing. Millecent rolled her eyes.

"Time for bed, all of you," she said, standing up from her high-backed arm chair. "I don't think I can take much more of this."

After much complaining, Nathan and I skulked up the stairs. James had gone outside to lock the gates for the day.

"I'm really tired," I admitted quietly. "I'm not used to sleeping during the day, yet."

"Yeah," Nathan said, yawning. "I'm used to it, but it always makes me sad."

"Why?"

He hesitated, staring at my bedroom door thoughtfully. "I do remember one thing about being human. My mother. She had long blonde hair, even blonder than Millie's. She loved to dance. Rain, snow, but usually in the sun. She would take me outside and swing me around and laugh and sing." He paused, and now his voice was distant, fading. "I really miss her. She always liked the sun."

He fell silent, then took my hand to pull me down for a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Jane."

"Good morning, Nathan," I replied in a subdued voice, watching him glide, ghostlike, to his room down the hall.

I entered my room quietly, closing the door. I tried to recall happy memories of my mother. I remembered her worrying, crying, complaining. My heart seemed to pull into my stomach when I couldn't remember her with a smile on her face. I couldn't remember her singing or laughing. Sure, she danced at parties, waltzes with my father. I could remember her black hair pulled up into an elegant bun, her movements graceful, but practiced and precise. Her face, though, was always frowning, always finding something wrong with the situation. This whole train of thought disturbed me.

I thought of Nathan's mother. I could picture her, her long, white-blonde hair flowing around her and her face glowing with laughter. I thought of little Nathan in her arms as she mocked the waltz and twirled grandly. My eyes pricked uncomfortably, and I reached up to touch the wetness on my lashes.

"Why are you crying?"

I gasped and whipped around. Benedikt was sitting, cross-legged, on my bed. His burgundy eyes examined me curiously. My heart felt like it was screaming out of my body. I closed my eyes and leaned the back of my head against the thick mahogany door.

"You scared me," I accused, opening my eyes.

"But that's not why you were crying," he pointed out. He rose sinuously from the bed and drifted towards me. He ducked his head to look me in the eye. "I'm sorry I frightened you."

I stared mutely at him. He frowned, peering into my eyes. Suddenly, his fingers were tracing my lower lashes, feeling my tears.

I pulled back against the door. If he could tell I was crying, across the room with my back turned, then did he really need to be that close to my face to examine my teardrops?

He sighed as he saw the irritation in my eyes. "Jane. You can't even talk to me?"

"I thought boys didn't like discussing their feelings," I hedged. Benedikt raised an eyebrow.

"We aren't talking about my feelings. We're talking about yours," he said. Then he smiled crookedly, tipping his head to one side. "Or trying to, at least."

"Who turned Nathan?" I asked. Benedikt's smile disappeared. "You didn't, did you?"

"No, I didn't. I met Nathan in Versailles," he said, his brow puckering. "Jane?"

"Who turned Nathan?" I repeated. Benedikt's lips were pursed as he tried to read my face.

"Nathan was turned by an Austrian vampire named Emil. Emil was mentally unbalanced; he told Nathan that he kept seeing the ghost his human wife, and that Nathan looked too much like his son to leave behind. He turned Nathan on a whim, and just as soon lost interest. He acted as if Nathan was just a dog." Benedikt paused. His eyes were now remote, yet angry. "Child vampires were usually turned in that fashion. When their creators decided that they didn't care for the child anymore, they used them in fighting rings."

My eyes widened. "Fighting rings?"

Benedikt glowered. "They would put the children in a cage and have them fight their ways out."

My throat let out a small whimpering noise. My brain spewed up an image of Nathan -- trapped behind metal bars, his hand a little claw reaching out to Emil, his eyes burning like blue fire, his teeth bared in a snarl. In my mind, another child grabbed Nathan by his sandy hair and sank its teeth into his throat. My ears rang with Nathan's screams, howling, roaring, breaking and returning like some horrible song...

"Jane? Jane!"

"I'm... sorry..." I whispered. Benedikt's arms tightened around me.

"You just fell over," he said, his voice frustrated and panicky. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," I repeated. He shook his head angrily. I tried to straighten and was greeted with dizziness. "I think I stopped breathing."

"Just, um, don't move. Here." He picked me up effortlessly, but with pristine care. He carried me to the bed and laid me down on it, propping me up on the pillows and pushing my hair away from my sweaty face. I hadn't even noticed that I was flushed.

"Nathan's just so happy all the time," I said after a moment. Benedikt's eyes tightened and his jaw clenched.

"Emil was a lineless pup who couldn't care for himself," he snapped. His voice was as fiery as his eyes. I smiled faintly.

In the vampire world, being lineless means that you don't have any connections to other vampires. A lineless person is basically a bastard. A pup is usually a term used for a vampire who refuses to leave their Sire, but it can also be used for someone who was simply dependant upon others to take care of them.

A frightening thought suddenly occured to me. "Emil was so lonely and crazy... he won't come looking for Nathan, will he?"

Benedikt's face closed off and he pulled slightly away from me. I hadn't noticed how close he was, had even managed to forget that his arms were still around my waist. Now he sat up and rubbed his left shoulder uncomfortably. His crimson eyes were on the mahogany bed post as he answered quietly.

"No. Emil won't be coming back for Nathan."

I straightened up slowly, leaning towards him. I touched his shoulder, which tightened. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, but rather than standing up and moving away, he sat rooted. His eyes never left the bed post as I leaned closer and pulled the sleeve of his black tee-shirt out of the way.

There was a crescent-shaped scar shimmering on his skin. It answered so many questions that he hadn't.

"You killed Emil," I said, my voice inflectionless. Benedikt remained silent, but his eyes flickered to me. The scene played itself out in my mind. I focused on my breathing so I wouldn't faint again.

Maybe Benedikt had just seen Nathan's treatment, and gotten angry over it. Or maybe he had already taken the poor child away, and Emil was looking for him. I could see Emil charge Benedikt--

//Benedikt leans away and Emil catches his shoulder. He digs into it, snarling bitterly.//

I traced thinner scars with my finger-tips, which lead up to Benedikt's throat.

//Of course. Emil doesn't want Benedikt's shoulder, he wants his throat. He gnaws, repositioning his teeth and trying to get a better grip as Benedikt tries to yank away. Nathan is fidgeting in a corner, terrified and probably thinking of his mother who liked to dance in the sunshine, and Benedikt is howling and Emil is snarling.//

I leaned forward involuntarily, brushing Benedikt's scars with the tip of my nose. My hands had left his arms to dig into his hair as I breathed in his scent. Oranges... and brown sugar... My warm breath rushed against his cool skin.

Suddenly I was back on the pillows and Benedikt was three feet away from the bed. His burgundy eyes were glittering, and there were hectic spots of red on his cheeks. My chest rose with a deep breath, and Benedikt's eyes seemed to blaze from his skull...

He closed his eyes and turned his back on me, towards the door to his room.

"Good morning, Jane," he said quietly.

I was mute as he disappeared through the door.