To Irene-thewriter: I'm sorry to hear of your dissatisfaction upon reading the previous chapter. At the time I had quite a few projects that demanded most, if not all, of my attention and I was only able to put things aside for a short addition to the story. Hopefully you will find this newest chapter to be reaching your expectations.

Chapter Eleven

SAMANTHA

I glanced around the room searching for signs of a hidden doorway or lever that might trigger the opening of a secret room but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just a lot of gold and brocade. I let out a little chuckle, I had only been here for a short while and already I was starting to think of such glamorous designs in a room as ordinary. "So," I said, still searching the room with my eyes. "where did you find it?"

"Here" He said, moving towards a corner of the room, and pushed one of the smaller paintings hanging on the wall. As the frame became askew a part of the floor slowly lowered away. I moved closer to Alex and looked down. Stairs had formed at our feet into a room I was pretty sure wasn't on the floor beneath us.

I looked down at the finely carved steps and the far away golden floor it led to. "Whoa." I breathed.

He cocked his head towards the opening, "Would you like to go down?" I nodded my head enthusiastically and motioned for him to go first.

The descent was long and steep and I clutched the banister that had rolled out along with the stairs. Almost reaching the bottom I suddenly stumbled and fell forward, my arms frantically out in front of me to soften the fall. Alex quickly moved forward and grabbed my arms in order to steady me.

"You alright?" he asked giving me what looked to be a small smile. His nearness made the breath in my lungs disappear, taking my voice along with it. Suddenly I was terribly afraid. A distant part of my mind wondered at this; I hadn't been afraid when I'd seen him in the dim lighting of the room the night before. Full of surprise and incredulity perhaps, but only a little fear, and again only an hour earlier in the dining room I had felt immeasurable anxiety in what to say or how to act, but it was only now that true and completely undiluted terror coursed through me as I felt his hands holding onto my arms, remembered the claws connected to those hands and realized that this was in fact a beast standing in front of me and not the human being I was pretending he was. All this came on in a matter of seconds but Alex saw it, felt it, and let go. Stepping back he put both hands behind him and looked away from me. I blinked and realized my heart was thumping like a loud drum in my chest. The small part of my mind that had been marveling only seconds ago at my apparent fear now reared up to the front of my thoughts and demanded an explanation for such a complete lack of sensibility. I wanted to apologize, but doing so would be an acknowledgment that the event had occurred in the first place, something that didn't appeal to me. So I just stood there, like a thief caught in the act, and waited for whatever would come next. Alexander's next words weren't accusatory or harsh in any way; in fact they hardly had any feeling in them at all, which was somehow worse. "It's getting late," He said quietly. "you should go." I nodded faintly and went slowly back up the stairs again.

I lay in bed for hours afterward but couldn't sleep. I felt too awful to sleep. One day in and already I had broken the promise I had made to myself. Thinking about it made the guilt I felt writhe up again into my throat and I tried gulping it down once more. Why did I have to go and act like that? He hadn't done anything wrong. All he did was catch me, he'd done what any other person would've done. But he's not a person, I thought. And that's the difference. My own shallow reasoning gave way to frustration "He is a person." I said softly to the air around me. I need a distraction, just a little one, just something to do until I can fall asleep. Suddenly I remembered a music room that I had discovered in my attempt to find Alex. I could play the piano fairly well and it helped whenever I was feeling unhappy or angry. Throwing away the covers I stood up and went to the door and up to the music room.

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ALEXANDER

I stood in the golden room a while longer after Samantha left, thinking about what had just transpired when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked up to see Jonathan staring back at me; he gave a small smile and continued on into the room. "I just happened to see Miss Miller a few moments ago, although she did not see me." There was a pause, "She seemed upset." He said finally, the quiet words still managing to magnify themselves throughout the room. I didn't need to explain myself, Jonathan was smart, and he could probably guess what had happened or something very close to it at least.

I turned my head away, "I can't do this John, I don't know how." I slowly walked over to one of the windows to look out at the grounds, there was no moon tonight and everything was hidden in darkness. "How am I supposed to convince her to trust me? It's a miracle she's even talking to me." I could hear his footsteps grow nearer until we stood side by side.

"It is hard, Alexander, I understand." John said solemnly. "But you must at least try, for it will be even more difficult if you do not. You know yourself; you know who you are, who you really are. Show her that, do not forget; do not let her forget the friendship that you two have shared. That is what you can do. That is all you can do, you must trust her with the rest."

"And if I fail?" I questioned. "What if I can't make her see?"

"I will be there for you, Alex. As I always have. That is one thing you can depend on. Come," he said as he moved away from his position by the window. "It's getting late; things won't look so dreary in the morning."

But I couldn't sleep that night, my mind kept whirling around what had gone wrong and everything else that might go wrong with it. I began to pace my room, and when that wasn't enough I started to wander through the hallways. After half an hour of walking I turned a corner and stopped short. A small echo was coming from somewhere, sounding faintly of music, and I turned my head to listen. Following it through the hall and down a short flight of stairs it became louder and louder until I found it's source behind a door slightly ajar. Carefully I pushed it open even further and looked inside. It was Sam, sitting in the center of the music room, surrounded by instruments with the grand piano in front of her, her head resting lightly on the top of its closed lid; her fingers playing the keys softly and without looking at them. I couldn't help it, I walked into the room and sat down in an empty seat, entranced by this small midnight concert. I watched as her hands danced across the keyboard, perfectly synchronized with each other, never stopping, never faltering. Her fingers moved so delicately yet the sound they produced filled the entire room and seemed to flit off into the adjoining spaces surrounding it. The music was beautiful, clear and lush, and I smiled to myself as I watched her play. Her head lay facing mine, but she did not see me, her eyes were closed and as I watched I saw a small smile of her own come onto her face as she continued to play.

As the song drew to a close I stood up to go, intending to leave as quietly as I had come in, but in that instant her eyes slowly opened and I saw the light of the room reflect across the brown irises, turning them a golden amber. I waited for the look of fear to flow across them as she saw me, just as they had earlier today but it didn't happen. I saw only surprise and startlement pan across her features but then her expression cleared and she stood up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wake you up, did I?" I shook my head swiftly.

"No, it's all right, I wasn't asleep yet." And the quiet of the house seeped in once more.

"You play very well." I said, after a moment, not wanting the harsh silence to completely overrun the echoes of music that could still faintly be heard. She smiled at my compliment and I was momentarily filled with a ridiculous rush of pleasure at having made her smile. She opened her mouth again and this time found words to say.

"Thank you," she said with a good-natured laugh. "It's nice to hear. Sometimes I think that I do play well but then I hear a pianist play in a concert or on television who is, I know, ten times better than me and I'll go back to the piano despairing of having any worthwhile talent at all."

"I thought you sounded like a professional, just now. I didn't even know you played though, you never told me."

She shrugged, embarrassed. "The subject never really came up and I didn't want to sound as if I were bragging."

"I'm sure you wouldn't have sounded like that. How long have you been playing, anyway?"

She blushed slightly, "Since I was eight." She said.

My mouth dropped open a little at this, since she was eight! I had never had the patience or will to stay with something that required so much effort and I told her so.

"Oh, believe me I didn't have a choice. My dad loves music; when I was eight he told me flat out he thought it would be a great idea if I learned an instrument. In other words I had to learn one. He wanted me to study two, but that's where my mom put her foot down."

The thought of this made me laugh. "So why did you choose the piano?"

"Well my dad said I had to learn an instrument but that I could choose whichever one I wanted. I decided to pick the easiest one I could think of and told him I wanted to learn how to play the triangle."

"And I'm guessing he didn't buy it." I said, smiling.

"No," she said with a sigh of mock-unhappiness. "So I gave him my next best attempt and told him how I would love to learn about the fine art of the tambourine."

"I take it that didn't work out either." I said, warming to the conversation.

"No it did not, and my dad said that if I couldn't pick a, and I quote, 'real instrument' he would choose one for me; and he warned me it would be something very ridiculous and very difficult, like the bandura."

"What the heck is a bandura?" I asked laughing at the absurdity of it.

"I have no idea," she said chuckling. "But he told me I would have to learn it if I didn't pick an instrument that was at least a bit more challenging than a triangle, so I chose the piano."

"And are you glad you did?"

She nodded thoughtfully, rubbing one of her fingers across an ivory key. Feeling the conversation had reached its end I once again complimented her on her playing and said a short goodbye before turning to leave. As I reached the doorframe I heard her call my name and turned back to look at her. Glancing down she bit her lip before lifting her head back up to me and said, "I'm sorry about this afternoon Alex."

I looked away from her to the polished wood of the door. She didn't need to apologize, it wasn't her fault. She walked towards me until I had to meet her eyes for they were in the very spot I was staring so diligently at.

"I'm sorry." She said again, "I shouldn't have acted that way, I was surprised and I…"

"Sam," I said, cutting her off. "we both know why you acted the way you did."

"But it doesn't mean it was right." She said quietly, but firmly.

I took a deep breath, before saying what had been on my mind for weeks now. "I know this isn't what you were expecting. I know I'm not what you were expecting, and I would understand completely if you decided to go." I stood watching her as I waited for her decision, hoping she would stay.

"Do you want me to?" she asked.

"Of course not, I-"

She interrupted me. "Then I won't." She grinned and gave my arm a swift pat. "We're friends." She said simply, as if it answered everything, and shrugged. "I don't just leave my friends.

"Now," Sam said, trying to bring some ease back into the conversation. "We should probably go to bed before John finds us both here asleep in a doorway."

I smiled and we both walked out of the room and downstairs. "'night Alex." She said as she moved away towards her bedroom. "Goodnight Sam." I said quietly and walked away towards my own.