Chapter 25

I don't own the Morganville series...Rachel Caine does!

After minutes of useless wandering around the deserted streets, I finally found myself upon the steps of my parents house. It was as if the Gods were wanting me to fill myself with as much guilt and remorse as physically possible. Too bad that I was already at my limit.

The door was hanging from its hinges, as though it had been broken into. I didn't understand how they could've broken in, though. My parents were human. They had to have been invited in. My parents knew better than to invite random vampires in the house. It didn't add up.

As gently as I possibly could, I pushed the door aside. It made a horrible scraping noise as it was dragged along the linoleum floor. As I walked into the house, the patterns of the struggle were evident.

The stand by the door where my dad kept his silver stake was lying on the floor, broken and empty. Pieces of wood was littered across the floor left and right. The scene of my parents abduction played out before my eyes as though I was in a movie theater.

My dad opened up the door as Bishop and Pennywell pushed the door roughly aside, almost tearing it completely off. My dad's first reaction was to yank open the drawer of the stand. It was caught on something so my father tore it out completely with a giant heave. The drawer flew to the floor, chunks of wood flying off as it smashed to the ground.

I walked into the living room where more debris was strung all around. The bookshelf was lying on its side with books and antiques broken in pieces. I slowly stepped over the overturned piece and continued my way through the room.

There was a crunch underneath my foot. I slowly raised my foot up to see a family picture when I had gone on vacation to city up north when I was 14. My mother had her arms wrapped around my waist and was smiling at the camera while my dad had arms around us both. I was unaware the picture was being taken since I was looking up at my parents with a smile on my face. The glass of the picture frame had cracks running every which an way. It looked as though I was in the middle of a spider web.

My dad picked up the stakes from the drawer and ran into the living room where my mother stood, shocked at the sudden commotion. My dad handed her a stake and told her to run out the back door quickly. She was in too much shock as the vampire intruders made their appearance from the foyer. My dad knocked over book shelf in hopes of swaying their approach. Those hopes were quickly squashed as the vampires gracefully dodged the falling scrap of wood.

There was specks of blood colored the room. The pleasant fragrance that emanated from the dark dots tickled my throat, but nothing more. Once I dismissed the agitating dry ache in the back of my throat, I looked at the wall to see apparent nail makings engraved into the wallpaper. It look as though someone had drugged their nails across it.

With a sudden burst of courage, my dad made a move to sink his silver stake into Bishop's heart. Bishop easily sidestepped the weak attempt and grabbed my dad's arm and twisted. The stake fell from his hands as his arms was twisted behind his back while he cried out in pain. He tried turning away from the pain but Bishop simply smacked him in the jaw, resulting in blood spraying across the room. Through his blood fill mouth, he yelled at my mother to run away but Pennywell ran and wrapped his arms around her before she make a run for it. She yelled and screamed as he pulled her backwards, towards the front door. She reached out in attempt to prevent the him from taking her but only ended up clinging to the wall. She dug her nails in and pulled her body as far away from the vampire as she could. Pennywell gave one final yank and dragged her towards the outside. Bishop and my father soon following.

The images of the terrifying events that my parents must have gone through couldn't stop playing over and over inside my head. I was growing lightheaded and sat on the one of the only untouched pieces of furniture: the couch. I put my head in my hands and began to weep. The sorrow and remorse that I felt was something that no creature but Bishop himself should go through.

I couldn't see how anything could get any worse. The list of things that has gone wrong seems indefinite. My parents are dead. The statue is gone. Bishop and Pennywell are bound to make themselves known sometime soon. And better yet, I'm a killer and my boyfriend doesn't even know it yet.

My head stayed down even as I heard the terrible scraping noise of the front door being pushed aside. It was Myrnin, no doubt. That man knows how to disturb a pity party when he wants to. I knew that I would eventually be found. Apparently, privacy in Morganville is almost nonexistent.

"Myrnin, can't I please get a few moments alone? Please?I mean, do you have any self-preservation?" I growled menacingly.

"I would...if I were Myrnin. But I'm not. Thank the Gods for that," a lazy drawl said.

I snapped my head up as soon as I recognized the voice. I had to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating. After what I've been through these past couple of days, figments of my imagination wouldn't be unusual at the moment.

"Why are you always where you're unwanted?" I questioned as I wiped my eyes. Trying to hide the obvious signs of my break down. Trying but failing miserably.

"I see it as a gift," Oliver sighed as he settled himself down onto the recliner. He looked as if he was seemingly comfortable. It was like the blood and the debris were mere decorations that go unnoticed. It had no affect on him that he was sitting in my dad's favorite chair all the while washing his scent off it.

"Get. Off. The. Chair." I snarled angrily. Oliver quirked a curious eyebrow but got up and simply paced in front of me with his hands clasped behind his back.

He made no move to start a conversation. And neither did I. I didn't care that he was here. I just wanted piece and silence...that and time to drown in my own pool of misery. Once I was almost certain that he was just here to annoy me, he spoke.

"I may not be childish enough to say it but I will admit that I am indeed thinking it," he said while giving me a sideways glance.

"Oh, really? And what is so insignificant to your superior self that you can't even say it aloud?" I hissed at him. I haven't been alone with him for 2 minutes and I'm already wanting to do nothing more than to rip his head clean off.

He looked at me sharply, more than likely finding my sarcastic comment rude. However, he didn't comment on it as he usually would.

"I told you so," he finally admitted, even though his mouth turned down at the corners to show his disdain at the "childish" statement.

" 'I told you so'? You told me that I would kill my own father? Really? So not only are you Edward, you're Alice now, am I correct?" I snapped at him.

"I specially told you that holding in your instincts was not a wise path to follow. We are not tame creatures, Claire. We aren't meant to be controlled. Bad things happen when we are caged too long," Oliver informed.

"Be thankful that I'm not following my instincts. If I were , you would currently be in a rather large amount of pain," I hissed.

"Oh, do not be so ignorant. We both know who would win in a battle. You're weak, thirsty, and wounded. It's no wonder you couldn't save your parents," Oliver growled.

I pounced on him before his mouth even closed from saying the last sentence. I wrapped my hands his throat pushed him against the wall. All I could feel was anger and hatred. Just as I had felt towards Amelie. He was done making those comments about me and my parents. I couldn't take it anymore. I was about to start hitting him when I heard a weird sound. Oliver was laughing!

He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me away. I was about to punch him when he came at me and slapped me across the face so hard that I fell to the ground, clutching the right side of my face. I was about to stand when he was, suddenly, sitting on top of me, holding my wrists, though he was careful to avoid the silver cuffs that still clung to my skin. The situation was unnervingly familiar.

~*Flashback*~

I suddenly felt searing pain and I cried out only to hear Pennywell chuckle madly at it. His laugh incensed me. I began struggling and kicking as hard as I could. He only laughed harder at my failed attempt to get away. Soon the burning went away and I was left only to feel Pennywell's body mass pressing against diaphragm.

"Sweet dreams, little Claire. See you soon" he cooed to me softly.

The last thing I remember was his fist flying towards my face and, then, I was swept away into the black abyss.

~*End of Flashback*~

"Get off!" I cried out, once again, doing everything in my power to get away but once again, I was only hurting myself and getting nowhere.

"Struggling without a strategy is like not struggling at all. Useless. You're not thinking! You're panicking! Stop using this," he snarled as he point to my throat, where my voice box should be," and start using this," and pointed to my head.

"What would you have me do? Huh? It's not like my teacher taught me anything useful!" I retorted angrily. Oliver glared at me and tightened his grip on my sore wrists, making flinch slightly.

"You interpret what I teach you as useless, so, therefore, it will be useless. I cannot make you learn. You have to do that for yourself," Oliver said, barely holding in his frustration.

"You never taught me how to defend myself. When Pennywell took me, I was in the same exact situation I am in now and I couldn't get away because you never taught me! Like I said before, I can't use my senses to smack someone," I growled out in anger.

" I would've taught you if you hadn't walked out. Learning how to defend oneself properly takes time and skill. It doesn't come to you over night. Which is why you can't go and kill Bishop. You'll only end up getting yourself killed. And over what? Over-."

"Don't say 'over nothing'! They were my parents! I have every right to avenge their death!" I cried out.

"Yes, you do. As have many families. All of them have tried and all failed. Which is what will happen if you try! You couldn't defend yourself against me! What makes you think you could fight Bishop?" Oliver inquired.

"Why can't you give me a quick overall of everything? Teach as much as you can as quickly as you can?" I asked.

"It's not that simple. Bishop has centuries of practice of battles and wars. You have nothing but what? A year in Morganville? It's not nearly as much," Oliver sighed as he shook his head.

" Can you try? Please!" I begged desperately

Oliver stared deep in my eyes, most likely looking for lie or a weak point. I keep my eyes clear and readable. He needs to see that I wasn't backing down or wasn't unsure of anything.

"Very well. But under one condition! You must do everything I say without question. I can't have you arguing with me all the time," Oliver scolded as he stared me down.

"Deal," I said after some thought.

"Good," Oliver replied as he hopped, grasping my hand as he went. I flew up due to his inhuman strength. He was about to head towards the front door when I called after him.

"Oliver!"

He turned around and crossed his arms with an annoyed look on his face.

"What?"

I walked up to him and punched him swiftly in the face. He stumbled more from shock than the blow. He touched his nose as the thick, dark liquid seeped from his nostrils. He looked up at me with a incredulous look mixed with anger and confusion.

I strode past him and the destruction of my parents house.

"Your mama should have taught you not to slap women," I called back.

Distantly, I could've sworn he grumbled, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

~*Tiff*~