**Vitani's POV**

I didn't like France. I never had. I didn't like the way the language sounded; it didn't flow right. I didn't like the way the place smelled; like musk and wine. I didn't like the way the people looked at me; like I was a freaky foreigner. Another reason I probably hated France was most likely because it housed the capitol of Arthasia.

Whatever the reason, I wasnt happy to be in France, even if I wasn't actually in the capitol. I wasn't far from it though. I was in a town about five hundred miles away though. Despite the fact that it was separated by endless miles of dense woods, it still wasn't a safe place for me to be. I didn't care.

Six hours ago, I'd been in my house back in Nero. Now I was here, in France. My teleporting was a thousand times better then it was in the past. I knew none of my family or friends would even consider coming out here, so close to the capitol. That's one of the reasons I had come here.

In a foul mood, I paced around the village late at night. Dressed in clothes my mother would hate; black skinny jeans with slits in them and a black hoodie with a skull on it. The hood up. That was probably the only thing my mother would like about my outfit. If I had my hood up then she didn't have to look at me.

I roamed around the little empty town in the dark, not sure what I was even doing here. Aurora had told me to come see her if I changed my mind. But I hadn't changed my mind . . . Or had I? I didn't really know anymore. I just knew that I was sick of my old life. I was sick of the confusion, the insanity, the judgement. I couldn't take it anymore.

But now that I was here, I couldn't go through with it. Truly, I didn't want to be apart of Aurora's twisted empire and help her ruin the world. All I wanted was to be respected. To not have people whisper that I'm crazy every time I pass. To not have to read about a fictitious mental breakdown of mine in the papers. To not have people talk to me like they're afraid I'm about to snap.

The sad part was that I couldn't blame them for that. I felt like I was about to snap. I didn't understand why I felt this way. Ever since I fed from Attis that time I'd slowly been feeling less and less in control. Like I was driven by some force I couldn't comprehend to act out.

"It's because you haven't fed from him since."

Fangs bared I spun around to see a girl standing there. She looked about my age - maybe a little older. She was taller and very spindly looking. She was dressed in a black skirt with chains hanging off of it, a form fitting black blouse with rose imprints on it, fishnet stockings, and black boots almost up to her knee. Her dark hair was braided and fell over her shoulder and easily passed her waist. Her eyes were outlined in heavy eyeliner and were scarily familiar - I saw those eyes every time I looked in the mirror. Purple glowing witch eyes.

"Who are you?" I snarled.
"Certainly you must recognize me Vitani," she said in an eerie voice, "You see my eyes every time you look in the mirror. Every time you look at your mother."

"You're a fucking creeper," I growled, flashing my fangs, "Get away from me before I make you regret it."
"I only wish to help you Vitani," she said, "I only wish to help. You don't have to be this way."

"You don't know anything about me," I snapped even though she obviously did. Seeing as she knew my name.
"Oh Vitani don't be so harsh. You're always so hostile," she said disapprovingly, "You never let anybody help you."

"I don't need help," I hissed.
"Oh little war demon don't you see that you do? There's only one person who can help you besides yourself," she said.

"Let me guess," I sneered, "You?"
"No. Attis. Your Blood Donor," she said.

I felt my body freeze. Attis. I missed him. We'd gotten into a fight before this whole mess started . . .
"What do you know about Attis?" I snarled defensively.

"I know that you love him. I know that he loves you. And I know that he's suffering just as much as you are right now," she said calmly.
Attis was suffering? I knew he was upset but suffering? I didn't realize he was suffering?

"What do you mean?" I demanded, "Is someone hurting him?"
"Yes. You. The longer you go without feeding, the more you hurt him. He feels rejected because you won't feed from him. He feels like you don't need him. He feels like he's failed you somehow."

I was surprised. I hadn't ever thought that Attis would feel rejected because of my refusing to feed from him. I thought he'd be happier if I didn't feed from him. I thought he'd like it better this way. He couldn't possibly want to be a Blood Donor. He'd even said that he didn't want to be one of my 'toys?' Besides, who would want to be a Blood Donor? It was degrading wasn't it? Especially for a guy.

"It's far from that little war demon," she told me, as if reading my mind, "Your society is cruel towards Blood Donors for absolutely no reason. In my view of the world they should be highly respected for their sacrifices. They care so much for their vampires that they're willing to sacrifice some of their life blood to them. That's dedication. They should be honored, not demeaned."

"But Attis couldn't want that . . . " I trailed off, confused.
"But he does. He wants you to be happy Vitani. He knows that if you don't feed from him you'll just slowly lose your mind. He wants you to get better," she explained, "Anyone whose Blood Bound would feel the same way."

"Blood Bound?" I choked out, "But Attis and I aren't -"
"Denial is a dangerous thing Vitani. You have to accept that you and Attis are Blood Bound. That he belongs to you and, in turn, you belong to him. T'is the nature of these matters."

"But if Attis and I are Blood Bound then that means we're soul mates," I spluttered, "But we can't be - I love Athan too."
"There are many different types of Blood Bonds just as there are many different types of love," she told me.

She was speaking in riddles and I really just didn't get it. I guessed that she was some kind of oracle or prophetess. Maybe even a mind reader. But of course, anybody with that much knowledge just has to speak in riddles. Personally I was getting sick of all the riddles. They gave me headaches.

"So . . . You're saying that if I feed from Attis I'll get better?" I asked.
She nodded.

"But he's all the way back in New York," I said, "And he hates me."
"He doesn't hate you," she told me, "He just needs to feel like you love him, like you need him. Don't you think he deserves that? To feel needed and loves?"

"But how can I feed from him if he's so far away!" I exclaimed.
"Bring him to you then," she suggested, "You can teleport, can't you?"

Oh right.

"But before I go, just one last thing," she said, "Don't ever sell yourself short Vitani. Don't ever think that you're not as good as your sister just because she's the Lost Witch. You're just as important to the world. You'll see . . . Someday."

She turned and left then. Her boots made no sound against the pavement.
"Who are you?" I muttered under her my breath.

She turned to look at me with the eerily familiar purple eyes. "Let's just say that you're apart of me," she said. "Arrivederci il mio diavolo piccolo di guerra."
With that last word, she seemed to disapear into the streets of this little town. She just evaporated, like mist.

But what did she mean that I was 'apart of' her. And those eyes. Purple eyes like that could only be obtained by a descendant of Maia. And there were only a handful those. My mother, Aella, myself, my sister Belinda, my nephews Jake and Ken, and my niece Lydia. And out of those few, only three actually had the purple eyes. Plus Aella lost her purple eyes when she was reincarnated in a different bodily form. So that just left me and my mother . . .

And Maia herself.

See a patter forming? Hmm who will the mysterious Maia visit next? You'll just have to wait and see . . .