Another author's- No, I'm kidding.

Honestly, I am about 99% sure I'm gonna regret uploading this when I wake up tomorrow, but since my mind doesn't seem to function very normally now that it's past 1am, I'm just gonna go ahead and post this. So, yeah, I hope you like it anyways - that is, if you still remember this story exists...

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sorrow weighs my shoulders down,
and trouble haunts my mind.
But I know the present will not last,
and tomorrow will be kinder.

(The Secret Sisters)

Happy birthday, Honey.

The three words, spoken in my mother's quiet and strained voice, managed to pop the bubble of relief that had been engulfing me. I could feel a second teardrop slither down my cheek, but this time I lifted my hand to wipe it away while I slowly leaned back to look at the person I'd just been cradling in my arms.

She couldn't be real.

Her eyes had closed, leaving her blind to how I quickly slinked away from her. I could feel my hands tremble with an emotion I couldn't quite read; I curled them into fists while I scrambled to my feet with clumsy moves. Once standing, I looked back down at the pale, but painfully familiar face of the woman on the floor.

She couldn't be real.

I remained still until the thought had convinced me enough. Then, with my heart sinking with this new belief, I took a few quick steps back, though only to ram right into something solid.

My heart dropped even lower.

"Leaving so soon?" a cold voice asked right behind me.

Antonio.

I'd been stupid to forget about him for even a second. Even though the anger I'd heard in his voice before was gone, I could feel it in his hand as he grabbed my right upper arm to keep me from flinching away. His grip was too tight; the blood flow in my arm nearly stopped in response. The pain of it was almost as strong as the fear that instantly bubbled up in me.

"Now, that's the second question you haven't answered," the monster behind me said, his tone cold but verging on irritated. "You might not want to make it a third."

The obvious threat sent a small shiver down my spine, but I kept my lips sealed. Antonio tolerated my silence for no more than a few seconds before he used his grip on my arm to spin me around and face him. Due to the fact that he was taller than me, my eyes were leveled with the blood that was still smeared across his lips and chin. The lump of nausea that crawled up my throat in response forced me to meet his flaming gaze instead, though it was no more of a preferable sight.

"No need to look so scared," he said, instantly picking up on the fear that was bound to be showing in my eyes. I held my breath as he smirked and leaned in slightly to add, "I'm not supposed to hurt you, remember?"

His insincere tone and malevolent smile made my body do the reverse of relaxing, but just as his smirk widened in response to my stiffening shoulders, an unfamiliar voice came floating into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt."

Antonio was blocking my view of the stranger, so I only continued staring up at the vampire in front of me as he turned his head to reply, "What is it, Sebastian?"

A small part of my mind vaguely realized that it was the name Dominic had mentioned earlier. I felt an additional thrill of fear in me. One vampire was enough to stand against; with two in the same room, I'd be dead in a flash.

"Riley wants to speak with you," the other vampire – Sebastian – said, surprising me slightly.

"Well, as you can see, I'm in the middle of something," Antonio replied, his voice undeniably ruder.

I was certain the second vampire would take that as enough of an answer and slink back out of the room, so when I heard him speak again, I couldn't stop myself from perking up just slightly.

"He said it was urgent. You know better than to ignore him, don't you?"

Antonio let out a sound that was definitively close to a growl. As his red eyes trailed back to me, I cringed back as much as his grip would allow – which, frankly, was no more than an inch or two.

"Fine. But just so we're clear," he said, his voice lower but nonetheless threatening. I tried to shrink away further as I realized it was me he was now talking to. Without bothering to tug me back, he added, "Don't try to hide my human from me. I'll be back for her."

'My human'.

He might as well have punched me in the stomach; I felt just as awful inside as if he had.

Clearly seeing the effect his words had had on me, Antonio smirked once again before he let go of my arm and turned to stride out of the room. My eyes followed him as he, on his way out, picked up one of the shirts I'd thrown to the floor earlier and used it to wipe the blood off his face. I didn't bother caring about it.

The instant he was out of sight, I let my gaze drift to the stranger that had stopped Antonio from whatever he had planned. He seemed almost familiar where he was standing in the doorway, shifting his weight uncomfortably, but I couldn't be certain if it was because of his dark eyes and tousled, light brown hair or the half-frightened expression that was masking his chiseled face. To my surprise, I could feel the fear in me slowly still while I stared at him just as quietly as he was watching me.

Finally, the silence in the room was broken by my mother's familiar voice.

"Amber?" I heard her mumble.

My gaze held Sebastian's for another second before I looked back down at the woman on the floor. She hadn't opened her eyes again, but the way her eyebrows were lowering into a slight frown showed that she wasn't entirely unconscious. The denial was still strong in me, but I slowly sank back down beside her and placed my hand over her cold one. Her eyelids fluttered a little in response, but she didn't say anything else.

I glanced up in the direction of the doorway, which was now empty. Without thinking too much about it, I looked back down at the woman beside me. A tiny, insistent part of my mind was determined to convince me that it really was my mother, but even while holding her hand, it felt as if she was bound to disappear any second now.

Quite stupidly, I whispered, "Are you real?"

Vaguely, I realized that it was the same question I'd asked Cody when I'd first met him. This time, however, I didn't get an answer.

"Mum?" I asked, using my free hand to shake her gently. "Mum, stay awake."

I could feel panic crawl slowly into my system as she remained unresponsive. Frowning, I looked around in search for something to stop her bleeding with. All I could find within my reach was one of the garments I'd been carrying out of Dominic's room, so I grabbed it and used it as a compression for the wound on her neck. Something wet and icky – her blood, I realized – touched my wrist, but I tried to ignore the nausea that bubbled up in response while I waited for a reaction from my mum. She only winced mildly.

The doubt I'd been feeling had disappeared by now, and was being replaced by a stinging guilt. I leaned closer, just like I had before I'd been reminded of Antonio's presence, and let my forehead rest against hers. Again, I closed my eyes.

I don't know for how long I sat there, but somewhere during the counting of my mother's weak breaths, I must've drifted into unconsciousness, because when I finally opened my eyes again, the room around me was darker.

I was comfortable – far too comfortable to be sitting on the floor – but in my tiny moment of contentment, I paid that detail no heed. Instead, I yawned softly and rolled over onto my back.

And that was when it hit me.

With a jolt of panic surging through me, I flew up into a sitting position. My eyes flitted around, taking in the soft violet and dark purple tones of the room and the bed I was perched on, until they finally landed on the person lying beside me. A stream of dim sunlight was stretched across her face, showing her pale skin and closed eyes. As my gaze lowered to her neck, where I knew her wound was, I could only find what looked like a white cotton pad. I stretched my fingers out to touch the soft material of it, but stopped myself as I spotted something dark on my wrist. Frowning, I held my arm up in front of me.

Smeared out in a line across my wrist was blood. My mother's blood.

Disgusted, I let my arm fall back down to the covers of the large bed just as I heard the sound of an opening door. I glanced up in time to see Anya step inside with a pile of clothes – clothes I could quite quickly identify as my own – in her arms.

"Anya?"

Clearly taken off guard, she pulled to a stop in response to the sound of my voice. Her eyes – it was a little too dark for me to see if they'd lost their reddish gleam yet – met mine.

"Oh," she murmured. "You're awake."

"And confused," I replied quietly. My voice sounded hoarse and odd, but I doubted clearing my throat would do it any good. "Where am I?"

"Well," Anya said just as silently while she stepped further inside and closed the door behind her with a soft kick of her foot. "This is my room. I figured I'd step in when Dominic mentioned something about how you'd rather sleep in the kitchen than in his room."

"Dominic was here?" I asked, ignoring the comment and the way her tone changed.

"Who did you think found you?"

I frowned a little. He'd helped me out of there?

"I don't remember," I admitted.

"You were pretty out of it," Anya said softly.

I watched her, still frowning, while she gracefully sank down on the plush carpet that was partly covering the floor and put the pile of my clothes beside her. Her fingers moved nimbly as she picked up one of the garments and folded it swiftly. As she moved on to the next piece of clothing, I glanced back down at my mother's now peaceful face. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination or if there was actually a slight color on her cheeks.

"Your mother will be just fine," I heard Anya say. As I looked back at her, she was smiling softly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, instead of questioning how she knew it was my mum.

"Positive," she assured me.

For the second time since I'd found my mum, I let myself feel relief. I felt my lips tug upwards a little while I watched her peaceful face, but the slight smile was quick to falter as Anya spoke again.

"There's one thing you should know, however," she murmured.

My eyes flitted back to her to find that she'd put down the pair of jeans she'd been holding and was instead watching me with a graver look on her face than before. I felt my frown deepen.

"That's an ominous expression you've got going on," I said slowly.

She bit her lip for a moment. Finally, she got to her feet and walked over to sit beside me. I tensed up slightly while I felt a mild worry settle in the pit of my stomach.

"Thomas was here earlier," Anya said.

I watched her cautiously while she stared back with a nearly identical expression.

"He was taking care of your mother's neck," she continued, quietly. "And, he mentioned… He knew her, Amber."

My eyebrows lowered even further, but this time it was out of pure confusion. "What?" I asked.

"He's known her for over three years now," Anya said softly.

I felt my face slowly change as her words sank in. Quietly, I asked, "My mother… She's been here all along, hasn't she?"

Anya wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a slight hug; I neither objected nor responded. Instead, I only sat there, silently, while I replayed a part of my first conversation with Thomas.

'There's this woman they keep here. She's barely lucid, but that little part of her brain that still functions normally is telling her not to give up. I've never seen anyone fight so hard for survival when it's practically out of reach.'

'Why is she fighting?' I remembered asking.

'She's fighting for a chance to see her daughter again.'

In the present, I turned my head to look at my mother again, but instantly regretted it as the sight of her pale face made me realize what she'd been through the past few years. I felt sick with guilt.

"Oh God," I whispered.

"I'm sorry," Anya murmured. "I thought you should know, before she wakes up."

I looked down at my lap while Anya tightened her arm slightly around me. My eyes were stinging with fresh tears, but I held them back.

After a long moment of silence, Anya finally broke it by asking, "How do you feel?"

Frowning again, I quietly replied, "How do I feel? I'm not the one who's been stuck here with that monster for three years now."

She didn't even flinch in response, but I wasn't sure if it was because she was used to the term or because we shared opinions of Antonio. Either way, she only replied, "That doesn't mean you can't be upset."

"I just have to…" I trailed off, lacking an excuse to get out of this room before the air inside it could choke me. My gaze focused on my wrist again, and I realized that there was still dried blood on my skin. "I have to go clean this off."

Anya held me for a few seconds before she, without objecting or questioning me, let her arm drop the covers of her bed. I felt her eyes on me as I stumbled my way over to the door, but she didn't speak up again until I lay my hand on the doorknob.

"Amber?" she asked softly.

I half-turned to look at her in a silent inquiry.

"Happy birthday."

I didn't tell her how bizarre those words were after this day or how it was the last thing I wanted to hear in that moment.

I only smiled tightly and ducked out the door, heading for whatever tiny piece of freedom I had.

I was back where I'd been just hours ago, sitting on the padded floor of my new haven and staring out at the reddish sky outside the tall windows.

My knees were drawn up to my chin, giving my head a place to rest as I watched the sunset with sore eyes, and my arms were wrapped securely around my legs. I could feel the stiffness in my back that declared I'd been sitting there for a long time, but I felt better pretending I was back in the same situation as I'd been in the last time I'd been sitting there than getting up and facing my new reality.

I knew I should've been happy that my mother was alive – any sane person would've been. But my mind was replaying the scene of Antonio feeding from her, making it impossible to see anything but the fact that, instead of being given a chance to leave this cruel world behind, my mum had been forced to endure a fate worse than mine.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

Sighing, I pressed my left cheek against my knees and closed my eyes, hoping for a moment of peace.

Unsurprisingly, that moment was ruined quite quickly by Dominic's familiar voice.

"We should stop meeting like this."

Without acknowledging his words, I opened my eyes again to look back out at the disappearing sun. In my peripheral vision, I saw him sit down beside me. The anger that had driven me out of his room earlier was nothing but a weak stir in the pit of my stomach while I stared ahead of me.

Silence stretched between us for a long moment until I couldn't take it. With a soft sigh, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Dominic replied. "Is this really how you're going to spend your birthday?"

I stared out the window for a long moment before I sighed again and said, "I should be happy, shouldn't I?"

He didn't answer. As I glanced over at him, I saw that he was watching the beautiful sky outside.

"But I feel…guilty," I continued, my voice lowering. "I mean, my mother's been here all along." I paused to look back at the sunset. "And I've been complaining about how I've been living…"

"There was no way you could've known," Dominic said softly.

We sat in silence for a brief moment before I focused my gaze on him again. "Did you know?" I asked hesitantly.

His eyes snapped to my mine at once, but he didn't say anything for several seconds. Finally, he replied, "Did you ask Anya that as well?"

I bit my lip, holding back a 'sorry', and glanced away from his dark gaze.

Again, the room turned quiet while I stared out the window and Dominic watched me. When I, once again, couldn't take the silence, I mumbled, "He'll be back for her, you know. Antonio."

"I know," Dominic said. "That's why I went by Anya's room to get your clothes."

For some reason, I wasn't surprised. "Why would you do that?" I only sighed while I looked back at him.

"Well, to quote you," he replied. "I thought it'd be stupid to have your clothes there when you won't be staying in that room."

I felt a slight urge to roll my eyes. "And why exactly am I not staying with Anya?"

"You said it yourself. Antonio will be back."

"He'll be back whether I stay with Anya or not."

"Yes, but if you're with Anya, it's going to be a lot harder for me to make sure he doesn't get what he wants."

I watched him carefully for a moment, waiting for his face to change. As he remained completely serious, I frowned slightly and said, "Let's say I do stay in your room then. What will happen to my mum? I'm not leaving her."

"She'll be there, too, of course."

"Is this a slumber party?"

He shot me a look before he said, "I'll sleep on the floor."

"On the floor? You'll sleep on the floor?" As he didn't reply, I asked, bewildered, "Why?"

He looked back out at the sunset for a moment before he met my gaze again and answered, "Consider it an apology."

We stared at each other for a few seconds before he got to his feet in a swift move. I only watched him as he reached out a hand in my direction.

"Come on," he said. "You should be there when your mother wakes up."

Begrudgingly, I admitted that he was right. Without accepting his help, however, I clumsily got up from the floor as well. I saw him shake his head just slightly before he turned to walk out of the room.

"Wait," I blurted out.

He stopped to turn and look at me.

"Even though, if you were human, you'd probably get a crick in the neck from sleeping on the floor… I just want you to know that I'm still mad at you."

He watched me for a long moment before he sighed, "Wouldn't want it any other way."

I stared after him as he spun on his heels again and headed for the door. In the doorway, he stopped again to send me a prompting look.

With a tiny sigh of my own, I followed.

I think I deserve an A for crappy endings. Oh well...