I stilled my heart when I realized the sound was my phone muffled in the robe.

As I put the journal back into Viviane's desk, my phone continued to ring in my pocket. It was Claude.

"Hey, Claude."

"Cousin, I trust you are well. I have found out more. Can you speak?"

"Sure." I settled back into the desk chair, still rifling through the photos.

"Where should I meet you?"

Well that was going to be a problem. "Claude, you'll have to tell me over the phone. I'm sort of stuck in Viviane's house until tonight."

"Need me to break you out?" I could tell he was smirking.

"No. I have to talk to Eric when he rises. And although Viviane seems to like you enough, I don't think you should pop in to her house. I doubt she's bugged her own place."

"Have you heard the Nixon tapes? You never know."

"Just tell me, Claude."

"She appears to be truthful. Although Niall said it is widely believed she turned Erin Gant. But Viviane's logic is logical. Who would make a child you couldn't control? I mean that's got to drive her maker nuts. Anyhow, Niall says I should track this Erin vampire."

"Not yet!" I struggled to find a way to tell him to stay out of it until I figured out what Viviane's deal is. "I think Viviane is planning a takeover, so weird vampires will be around. You should stay away from that at night. Maybe I can ask Eric to send Thalia or something." If Eric and I can get through this mess. Because that's what this had become, an honest-to-goodness mess.

"Fine. Whatever. Just tell me if you think I need to do something for Hunter. Niall was not happy when I told him about her visiting the child. Dermot says he saw her one night. She just watched him from across the parking lot."

"But she is Niall's sister? So that makes her like our great-aunt or something?"

"Yeah, something like that. He told me she his half-sister and that she was always quiet and shy, sort of a loner. Everything else Niall told me pretty much lined up with what Viviane said about the running away and the arranged marriage crap. Who does that anymore?"

"People in India. I saw it in a documentary on cable." I did. I watched a lot of cable during days I spent at Eric's.

"Now I want the dirt. What did the sexy, old man tell you?"

I groaned. I couldn't tell him that Viviane was Eric's child. As mad as I was, I'd never tell anyone. Not even Pam.

"Oh, basically that they are ex-lovers/companions/whatevers. It's sort of worse than I thought." No elaboration. "We fought about it, and he sort of told me I couldn't sleep in the light-tight room with him after I slapped him and said and did some pretty childish stuff." I decided not to tell him about the phone. "But her show was pretty good. I really enjoyed most of it."

"I bet I enjoyed mine more." He chuckled. "So, he locked you out, and you just took it? Where's your moxie?"

"I don't know. It's not like I could stop him. And I sort of did it first. He threw my words back at me. Claude, I was mad as rabid dog and said things I shouldn't have. I have a right to be upset – I do. But I need to get it together and be a freaking grownup so we can finish talking about it."

"Did you make a list?" I could hear him eating something really crunchy.

"Why would I make a list?"

He sighed; I could picture the eye roll. "A list of reasons to be mad. A list of things you want to say. It helped with the questions."

"Who knew you were such a fan of lists?"

"There is a lot beneath this beautiful exterior. I'm not all hot man fairy flesh." I had to laugh at him and his verbal preening. "I am a business man. I make lists at work all the time. It gets it done."

"OK, I'll do that when I'm done snooping."

"Oh, what dirt did you find?"

I debated telling him about the boyfriend so I started with the food and the picture of Pam. He jumped in about the food.

"So she has a lot of food, not just like a spare frozen pizza?"

"Yep. I sort of figured out she had a boyfriend until recently." He asked me how, so I relayed the part about the tissues and the pictures. I didn't tell him about the journal. "His name is Charlie, but that's all I know."

"So she's heartbroken. That's interesting."

"I'm sure she thinks so, Claude."

"Oh, come on. You should know women do weird things when they have a bad breakup."

I couldn't think of anything particularly weird that I had done after any of my breakups including when Eric woke up from the spell. But I didn't have a whole lot of experience on that front, so how was I to know whether any of the things I did were strange?

"But do weird things include taking over a state so your ex-boyfriend doesn't have to work for idiot jerks?"

I looked at the picture of Viviane and Charlie in my hand. It was taken in her suite. He had a martini in his hand, maybe the same kind she had mixed for me last night. His other hand was around her waist, pulling her close. She rested her chin on his shoulder with her arms around him and looked up at him, smiling a private smile.

"Maybe. People like to keep busy so they don't have to think about the hurt. Admittedly, her method is a bit over the top, but she is over the top." He paused to stuff his mouth again. "And if she takes over, that's a good thing for you, right? Viviane's not likely to try and steal you from Eric."

I voiced my biggest concern. "But what if it's Eric she wants?"

Claude, for once, didn't have a snappy comeback. I listened to him chew before he spoke again.

"I really do not think she could take him away from you unless you push him away. He may be a fanger, but he has risked a lot for you."

Claude was right. Eric always took risks for me, and he had been through a lot with me. And now he'd told me the mother of all his secrets. And I laughed at him. What is wrong with me?

"Hey, do you think Niall talks to her?"

"That was random. I don't know. Why?"

Eh, still not telling him about the journal. "I found a note when I was snooping. It was about when she bought me the Tahoe and how the prince would appreciate her actually paying attention to his favor."

I almost heard his face crinkle. He probably knew I was lying. He finally said, "A note, huh? I could ask him next time." I told him that would be good.

"Well, I should make that list or two now."

"Yes, you should. Call me if, I don't need, you need me or something." I said goodbye, and we hung up.

I pulled out a notepad and pen from her stash and lined them up on Viviane's desk before going to explore the shelves along the walls.

Books dominated a lot of the shelves, but she also had a big stereo system with vinyl records and lots of CDS. The shelves had knick-knacks from her life, such as a crystal perfume bottle, framed pictures and souvenirs.

I found a miniature painting of her and one of Eric. It had to be him. The painter had done a good job of capturing the strong lines of his face and the blue of his eyes. He wore an elaborate wig of the time over a green coat. Viviane's had to have been done at the same time. The strokes were similar and the frames matched. She had tons of hair piled very high on her head, and her chest was squished into a corset and therefore shoved up for lots of cleavage. The dress was a vibrant red with a matching ribbon thread into her hair.

I also found more journals. Some had covers like the one I'd peeked at, but others, older I assumed, had varied covers, all leather. I didn't think there was 1,200 there. Surely some got lost over time, and 1,000-year-old paper may not hold up well at all, if it even existed still.

After I'd looked at every shelf, I went through the rest of the first floor, opening doors and examining the contents of the bathroom and coat closet. Nothing unusual.

So I went back and settled down to make a list of what I was mad about, who I wanted to attribute that to, and what I wanted to say to Eric.

My mad list went: 1. Eric didn't tell me anything about his past with Viviane. Eric. And me for not pushing him. 2. Viviane's Eric's child. Me. Because it happened before me. It's not like I could ask him to undo it. 3. Eric didn't tell me about Viviane being his child. Eric, although I get why. A little bit. 4. The Tahoe. Viviane. 5. Eric shutting me out. Eric. 6. The surmised takeover plot. Viviane. 7. Viviane's attitude. Viviane. I didn't have anything else right then, but I left plenty of room to add to it.

My list of things to say to Eric included an apology for laughing at him when he told me and then slapping him and an apology about the phone. I needed to put my big girl panties on and act like the grownup I am. I get to be mad, but I don't get to hit people. I learned that when I was kid.

Charlie also was now on my list. Eric was probably going to be mad that I snooped so much, but he could just deal with that part.

I also planned to tell him I wasn't going to tell anyone, but he had to tell Pam because that was the right thing to do.

I planned to discuss his locking me out of the room. I was mad that he didn't trust me enough. But maybe that wasn't it.

All I knew for sure is that I was going to listen and not react the next time we talked. I looked up and realized it was almost noon.

I needed to get to sleep. I had a big night ahead of me. I ripped my lists from the notepad and folded them around a picture of Viviane and Charlie, tucking them into my robe pocket.

The bed called to me, so I padded up to it and fell onto it after sticking the papers into my evening bag. I was out before I had time to worry about what I'd learned or what was ahead of me.