Chapter 2

Learning Anew

Scott

There's always a moment between sleep and wakefulness, where you're aware of your body, the outside world, but your body is sluggish, heavy with sleep. Those moments that you relish when you wake naturally, no aids needed.

Scott didn't get one of those. One second it was like the world had gone silent and then the next every noise, smell, touch, and taste, hit him in a barrage so fast that he shot straight upright from the waist. The movement was fluid, easy as breathing, his feet never moving from the bottom of the cot, just a quick flex of his abdominals and he was there.

He could see every molecule of dust in the air, like stars as they danced in the midnight blackness of the area that he was in. The sink's marble was an injection of white against the cement walls, and he could see the little imperfections of the flooring beneath the cot. Could hear the squeaks of it beneath his body, could hear the brushing of his toes against one another as he subconsciously scrunched them when he looked at them.

In a way, he was a marionette. Or an android, movements too other to categorize him as human. The shifting of fabric had his head snapping to the door and a hiss bubbling in the back of his throat at the male in the doorway. 'Peace, child.'

Scott tilted his head, he knew that voice; knew that soft widow's peak of deep brown hair, those ruby red eyes. The expectant face, quiet with patience. 'Marcus.' He blinked, and swallowed, a hand going to his throat. 'What?'

His voice had changed. Had it? He didn't remember it being as smooth when he was alive. His eyes flicked to his sire, who tipped his head and tucked his hands into his sleeves. 'The venom, dear one, turns us into the perfect lure for humans.'

Right, because he was a vampire now.

Scott dropped his gaze from his sire and found himself having come to a crouch, hovering on the balls of his feet. Marcus tipped his head, eyes warm. 'A natural reaction, I assure you. How do you feel?'

'A little…confused, maybe?' Scott rolled off the cot, twisting to catch sight of himself in the mirror and jerking back at the red in front of him. Willow could name all the different shades of red in his eyes then but all he could connect with them was blood. Like rubies, bright and intense in the sun. His tattoo was a sharp contrast of black against the white pallor of his shoulder and upper arm. His hair, whilst still its curly, collar bone length was more smooth, less chaotic. That irritating bit of baby fat that had refused to leave was now gone, leaving his jawline and cheekbones sharp and defined. He touched the scars from Laurent and Marcus nodded, sorrow in his gaze.

'They were made by a vampire who licked them. Unfortunately, venom is the only thing that can create a scar on us. The red you may get used to. They are because of the remains of your humanity in your system, they will fade in tone past your Newborn year.'

A memory of several yellow-golden gazes, tinkling laughter, an ache in his chest, a name just out of his grasp. 'It's not the only option, right? I can't…I can't remember it right now, but I've seen them.'

'No, humans are not the only option, dear one. The Cullens and Denalis, feed from animals. We, here at the Volturi, feed from humans because they are easier to obtain but if that is not a path you wish to go down, then, as your sire, I will not force you to do so. I warn you though, dear one, that that lifestyle is not the easiest.'

The memory of a man, greying at the temples, warm hazel-green eyes and a bright, deep laugh came to mind when Scott thought about hurting someone. Richard Crawford, his mind whispered. Scott blinked, swallowed the film of venom in his mouth even at the idea of blood, and caught Marcus's eye. 'I, I know this might be naïve, but I don't want to hurt anyone.'

Marcus tipped his head, elegant and regal, 'You may not mean to, dear one, but it may yet happen. But if you wish to try the animal diet then that is your path. Come,' he took the robe he had over an arm and held it towards him, 'the others wish to meet with you, and I do not think you wish to stay dressed as you are.'

Scott jerked his head down and realized he had his boxer briefs on. 'My clothes?'

'Are in your room, though your strength may be a liability. So, if you are inclined to it, we are here to help. Turn, dear one.' The robe felt like silk on his shoulders as Marcus slid it on. It was heavy, a dark twill on the outside with the insides a gorgeous bright red brocade. The seams were smooth, and the craftsmanship was wonderful as he turned to let Marcus do the wrought iron V-shaped clasps, the points of them encrusted with a singular small ruby.

'Who does these?' Scott couldn't help but inquire, peering down at the rolled inseam of the sleeves, invisible, or near enough, with the use of matching threads, the delicate princess seams on the ribs, the intricate ravens embroidery on the opening part of the robe, mirroring each other exactly in an onyx silk thread.

'A member of the lower guard, Bronwyn.' Marcus smiled, a little quirk on his lips. 'Do you sew?'

'My mother.' Memories of her sitting with him in her lap in front of her sewing machine, her serger, of her teaching him and Georgie how to hand sew with a worn pillow for practice. 'She's a seamstress. Taught me when I tore one too many pairs of jeans.'

Marcus hummed. 'We shall have to introduce you. Now, Felix and Demetri are outside, both having the most experience with our newest…recruits. Before I open this door, I want you to do two things for me, dear one.'

Scott looked at him, or up at him, Marcus had a few inches on him. 'Okay.'

'Close your eyes and take a breath for me. Slowly, good.' Three different scent profiles hit him then. Marcus was the most prominent – warm wax, the hint of honey, sharp orange. Freshness and soothing. Another had that undertone of honey but there was something spicy about it, like stepping into the middle of Autumn, nutmeg, and cinnamon, mixing with the leather of patent shoes and cotton of shirts.

The other had Scott wanting to bask in it. He had the faintest grasp of childhood memories, that were trickling back in, where he had bound about the trails of the Olympia National Park, mucky and utterly content, chasing the girls in games of tag. And the gentle moss, sea salt and sun-warmed grass with the faint twist of mint that was connected to the other had all those happy memories coming back.

'Always,' Marcus's voice cut in through the film of his mind, 'use your nose when meeting new vampires, dear one. You will find that sires share fragments of their own scent palette with their progeny.'

'One of them is yours.' Scott answered and he tucked the happiness at the tip of the head from Marcus into the crevices of his chest.

'Felix, yes. Dimitri was Turned by a man named Amun many centuries ago.' Marcus led the way to the door. 'And the second thing, dear one, is to remember that we are here to help you. You are a guest with us, not a prisoner.'

There was something in Marcus's tone that struck true in Scott's gut that had him nodding. Marcus opened the door then and Felix and Demetri were there, just like his sire had said. It was strange, Scott mused as he fought with the instinct to flinch back at the outright display of dominance, as subtle as it was when he was human, these two seemed chiselled by the gods. Now, staring at them with eyes that could see further than 20/20, he could spot the flaws lingering on the limbs exposed. Light scars littering forearms, pock marks from humanity long since fled with slightly uneven lips, a broken nose on Felix's part, the faintest five o'clock shadow along their jaws. Things he couldn't identify when he was still living, either from adrenalin or fear, Scott couldn't remember but the thing that stood out most was their height.

Felix was still a titan-made flesh, towering over Scott even where he lounged against the wall, boots crossed at the ankle and long arms crossed under his cloak. But there was a relaxed air to those hulking shoulders that were encased in a tailored pale button-up, exposed at the neck, cuffs rolled, and dark slacks, an excitement that seemed to bubble under the surface of his entire being. 'Look at you, Forrester!' he grinned at him, straightening, 'Not screaming the castle down.'

Scott snapped his head to Marcus. 'I was screaming?'

'Not uncommon, dear one.' Marcus murmured, 'In fact, it would have been peculiar if you hadn't. You were quieter than some, you must have a strong pain tolerance.'

Not really. He used to bitch all the time when his shoulder played up in the winter. Good old baseball injuries. 'Or not?' Felix grinned and Scott gave a helpless shrug, worrying the cuff of his robe, finding a quiet comfort in the familiar motion.

'How do you feel?' Demetri finally spoke up and Scott found him wanting to ask the Tracker never to stop. His voice had been pleasant as a human, now, it made whatever confusion and anxiety that had begun to bubble in his stomach settle. He was dressed much the same as Felix, except he had a soft grey shirt on and half of his wavy black shoulder-length hair pulled back.

'Um…' Scott took stock, internally. 'Something's dripping, like a pipe or something, and that is gonna get on my nerves, will admit. And being able to hear the soccer several floors down is fucking whack, as is being able to count dust mites, that's weird.'

'And…?' Felix gestured to his throat.

Scott had been trying to ignore that increasing irritation in the back of his throat since Marcus had brought up humans and animals. It had been like a rapidly developing cold or virus, building in roughness, and every time he had to swallow a pool of venom, it burnt a little more. Scott shook his head, cracking his knuckles.

'Scott has decided to try the animal diet.' Marcus announced to the two and they nodded. Demetri gestured for them to head to the right.

'Feed the baby then clothes?' Felix grinned at him, cheeky, and Scott didn't hesitate to flip him off.

Marcus tipped his head. 'Head towards the Reserva Naturale di Montenero, you know the rules.'

'Of course, Master.' Demetri dipped his head and Marcus turned to Scott as they reached one of the lower entrances, coming to a stop.

'I will see you when you get back, dear one. Have fun.'

Oh, that was mildly looked to him. 'Shall we see how fast you truly can be, little one?'

'Eat me, fucker.' He hissed and something in him raised its head at the direct challenge and he pushed off like he was a game and it felt like warp speed. Even in the dark, as the sky faded to midnight, Scott could see everything, even as life sped by his eyes. Felix cackled a laugh and the two began to herd him in the direction of the reserve.

It was like he could hear the life in the city, each thumping heart more enticing than the next, but the thrill of the race just nudged passed just a little more. Forresters were a competitive bunch, and well, Felix had prodded him.

Demetri's amused voice had him nearly eating mulch, 'Ease up there, little rocket, you'll overshoot.'

Scott couldn't help it, he bounced on the spot, grinning to himself as he kicked up mulch and dirt, coming to a stop. 'That was so fucking cool.'

Felix cocked his head. 'You played a sport, no? When you were human?'

'Baseball.' He nodded, running a hand through his hair, 'Was on the track team too in the off-season. Why?'

'Sometimes,' Demetri explained, 'attributes of our humanity pass into this life. So, with you being so athletic previously, becoming particularly fast isn't unusual. But less about that, let's get some food into you.' He stepped up behind him, hands settling on his shoulders. Fuck they seemed to swallow them whole. 'Shut your eyes.'

'Is this a thing for you lot?' he quipped as he did so, and Felix snorted.

'Newborns can have the attention of a gnat, taking a sense away, it helps narrow that field. Do as you're told.'

'Fuck you.'

'If you want.'

Scott would have to put the fact that he wasn't exactly against that idea away and unpack it later, along with the fact that Felix's offer rang genuine in his head. Demetri's hands had tightened on his shoulders before the Tracker had taken a breath in. 'Take a second and see how far you can hear.'

Demetri's voice was a metronome in his head, grounding in the fact that Scott felt like he could hear fucking everything, maybe even the Earth moving under his feet at that moment. He could hear water nearby, loud and echoing, a waterfall maybe? Something darting about through the underbrush, birds above, trees swaying in the breeze, but the franticness of those creatures moving had that competitive part of him focusing in on it, and he cocked his head. 'Molto bene. You hear a boar. Can you hear the heart?'

Under the huffing and snorting, there it was, like a beacon.

'Bene…' Demetri dragged out and the second his hands were off his shoulders; Scott locked on it and took off.

It was like nothing else matter apart from following that beacon, the sound becoming clearer with each step Scott took in the forest. He found himself in a crouch in a tree above the boar. The beast was snuffling around in the underbrush of his perch, looking for some form of grub but all Scott wanted was that pesky little heart to stop.

So, he dropped atop it, broke its neck, and groaned as he bit down. Fuck it was like ambrosia of the Gods, staunching the blaze in his throat as he drank deep. When the boar was a husk, Scott fell back onto his ass and licked at his hands, his fingers caked in the nectar, even going as far as to check his face. Fuck he never wanted to stop.

So, he did it again. Found a heartbeat and tracked it. It was a fallow deer buck, calling out for a mate. The head went flying this time, but Scott didn't care, diving for the carotid before the head and antlers had a chance to land and he hummed when he was done.

It felt like when you'd filled up on Christmas dinner having eaten basically nothing all day or eaten anything fatty and oily when you were severely hung over.

He had the deer in his lap, as he got the last of it off his fingers when the downwind brought the scents of males in his direction. No, this was his food, damn it. He clutched at his meal, eyes locking in front of him as a snarl exploded from his chest, deep and threatening as he could make it.

'Easy…' that voice came from the longer-haired one, nice and enticing, the taller one doing what was right and staying back, well away. Scott had to feed the long-haired one. But with what? He couldn't give him this. He pushed the mangled remains off of his lap and tipped his head back to track something else because he had to give his Mate something, provide for him. 'No, luchnik, I don't need anything, I've already fed.'

With what? His Mate didn't go and find his own meal. He scowled up at him as Demetri came closer. His eyes were darker. Well, then he had to feed him. But nothing his Mate was saying was a lie, he had fed. Scott licked at his lip, blinking back as the franticness of whatever that was faded.

What the fuck was that about?

'Vampires get possessive over their meals.' Demetri offered as he began to dig a hole for the ruined fallow deer. Fuck, Scott had done a number on that. 'Next time, try and remember to not yank so hard, twist like a bottle cap, it'll give a quick death and keep yourself clean, to some extent. You'll get a handle on it as you get your bearings. How do you feel now?'

'Slightly…' Scott checked in. He felt like he had to burp now, 'swishy. Where's Felix?'

Demetri peered up at him as he rolled the deer carcass into the grave, and dropped the head in too with an afterthought, 'You tell me.'

Scott scowled at him but did as he was instructed. There was no heartbeat to follow, obviously, but Scott could smell him in the wind. He was further back; he could hear Felix's bitching about having to dig holes for his boar and hummed to himself. 'Bitching about being a clean-up crew.'

Demetri smiled and Scott had his focus drawn to the dimple to the right of his mouth, where a little beauty mark sat, hidden under an eternal dark shadow. 'Felya isn't used to doing the dirty work anymore with meals.' Demetri pressed the dirt down with a boot, shuffled some fallen brush over it and straightened once more. 'Now, are you sure you don't wish to hunt some more?'

Scott thought about it. It was tempting, the rush of the hunt, the feel of the blood going down his throat, the smoothness, the instincts of feeding came to him, they were enticing. But he didn't want to gorge himself, that didn't seem comfortable. He shook his hair, 'No. No, I don't think so.'

Demetri nodded and tipped his head in Felix's direction. 'Come then, before the princess gets fussy.'

'I'll show you.' Felix yelled and Demetri brushed off the lunge that the behemoth went for. The two froze when Scott let out a snarl, shocking himself. Felix grinned after a second. 'So, the little lion has claws…'

'…what the fuck was that?' Scott murmured, utterly shaken. He glanced over his shoulder, back to where the fallow deer was. 'I-I did it before. Then with Marcus?'

Demetri catalogued his gestures and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing before he dropped it to begin to roll his robe sleeves up, ignoring the blood caked to the fine fabric. 'Instincts. That's all. Hunting brings them to the surface and things will feel more exposed whilst you go through your Newborn year. They'll settle when the human blood in your system filters out. Sometimes, Felya forgets his manners.'

'I don't like to fight people though.'

Felix shrugged, 'Doesn't matter when you're a Newborn. If your brain registers a threat to you, your Mate or your dinner, things can get violent. Especially if they're an older vampire.'

'We can be at our weakness when we feed.' Demetri explained as they walked through the forest around them, taking the time to explain. 'Our backs can be exposed, leaving us vulnerable to threats. Hence why we mostly go in groups and do not tend to spread too far from one another. You'll learn to stay within hearing distance whilst a Hunt is happening but not in the direction the wind is carrying the scent, to not put each other off a meal.'

'Don't we register who isn't a threat though?' Scott asked as he watched his feet squash delicate prints into the mulch before a caterpillar crawling up a tree caught his eye and then a certain beam of moonlight through a patch of trees.

Felix grinned at him, the expression softer than its usual beam, knowing. 'You'll get a hang of the focusing, fratello, don't worry. It feels like there's everything and nothing that you should be watching, right?'

Scott nodded, watching as his skin glowed faintly as the beam enveloped his arm. The robe had become a victim to his meal. He pouted a little at the blood stains that shone against the orange-red of the brocade, ruining it. 'Your mother sews, right?' Demetri caught his attention again and Scott thumbed a flower motif with a nod.

'She'd make our Halloween costumes every year.' He murmured, flashes coming to his head after a minute or two, 'My friend always got her dance costumes done by her, too, sometimes she'd even help out the drama department in the school and stuff. Her mother taught her. And we can trace ourselves back to the 17th century, Mum's line was some of Queen Anne of Spain's dressmakers. Mind, Georgie doesn't know how to keep a needled threaded for more than one stitch, let alone how to spin lace or embroider, but Mum doesn't need to really draft a pattern anymore.'

'The first century,' Demetri gave, pulling him to a gentle stop, Felix slowing too, 'it's always the hardest. Especially if you're close with your family but you won't be alone.'

'Fuck, Miss Crawford is the Mate to one of our world's most dangerous vampires,' Felix snorted, 'Even if something were to happen, you'll always have that backup.'

Scott looked between them. 'What's with the formality?'

'You know of the Major's past?' Demetri checked and Scott nodded, 'His placement in the Southern Wars turned the tides. His sire became more of a threat of exposure as the decades passed and Major Whitlock grew to understand his gift and its limitations. Before his Second and his Mate left, Maria had never been at her strongest. You could put the Major, Captain and his Mate on that battlefield and they would be ash in minutes. You will come to understand, when you meet up with them in the future, the warning that they give off from their scars alone. No one has ever bitten the Major twice and gotten away with it. The formalities,' Demetri glanced down at him, eyebrow quirking, 'are out of respect. You may know Miss Crawford well enough to use her first name, but we, the Volturi, do not.'

It made sense, Scott guessed, as they wandered through the reserve, his eyes darting around, the smells cataloguing themselves in his brain. Manners were armour to Willow, something she always fell back on when she was unsure of something. Hell, it took till their freshman year of high school for her to drop them and called his parents by their given names, regardless of how many times they encouraged her to. He could understand where the Volturi were coming from, especially with what Jasper had gone through and the skills he had. The idea that they could misspeak and insult her made something in him uncomfortable.

'He'd never hurt her, right?'

The two immediately shook their heads vehemently. Felix spoke then, 'Never. A Mate never can hurt another one without consent, our instincts can't allow that to happen, regardless of how many are involved or how long they've been together. The chances that the Major will be the one to train her—'

'—not happening because of the circumstances that surround it and the reasons why it's necessary.' Demetri cut in. 'He'll want her trained, he knows too much about the darker side to this life but the Captain will have the main control of that, I think.'

'You mean, Peter and Charlotte, right?' Scott looked at him and took in the moonlight hitting off that warm face. 'I remember that they went to Texas between junior and senior year.' Something tickled in the back of his mind, a ghost of a memory. 'I think Peter helped with my decision to book my flight here…and I think Willow mentioned they came to Forks for a visit before Bella and Edward were together.'

Felix stepped in front of him, walking backwards, head cocking. 'How much do you remember?'

Scott fought a scowl, feeling the memories wanting to come to the forefront but it was like they were trying to get through wet cement, sluggish and slow. Demetri must have seen the frustration building on his face because he changed the question. 'Okay, what do you find easier to recollect?'

'My family.' Scott didn't have to think about that. His sisters, his parents, his grandparents, their faces, voices, and the latest memories around them came to mind as he watched his feet. 'The Cullens but that would make sense, right?' the others made acquiescing faces, 'I wrote…something, oh fuck, could I be any more fucking cliché?'

The guys shared a grin between them, amused and teasing as Scott groaned at the sky above him. 'Look,' Demetri nudged him, warmth fizzing under his robe. 'You took the initiative and actually wanted to jog your memories.'

'Mind, the chances of you not ripping the paper for at least a month is slim to none, my friend.' Felix smiled at him, a sunny grin on his face. 'Also not tearing anything you put on your body until maybe the fifth try.'

'It took you a week not to tear your britches when you were a Newborn, Felya.' Demetri deadpanned to him and nudged Scott again, 'You get to an age where human ideas about nakedness and whatnot don't blip in your radar so if you need help with clothes or turning taps and such on and off until you get a hang of the strength, don't be embarrassed to ask for help. We've all been there.'

'It was easier for you,' Felix complained as they picked up speed, having come to the edge of the National Park, 'you wore togas and trousers weren't a thing yet.'

'Wait, how old are you?'

'We had britches,' Demetri scowled at Felix, 'You're at least two thousand years out of date, brat,' his gaze turned to Scott, eyes calm. 'I was turned around the Vikings, they had begun to explore the continent.'

'Get fucked.'

Scott wanted to bottle his laugh, he found, liking the warmth of it, the joy and pure amusement that rang true in the notes as Felix and Demetri stopped in front of him as the shock had hit him so hard that Scott had nearly tipped on a stone. Maybe being the first ever to do so. He had thought Jasper was old at a hundred-and-fifty-odd, but the Vikings were over a thousand years ago.

'My sire had begun to explore Eastern Europe, and the continent at large. Amun has always been slow to…evolve,' Demetri let the word roll around his mouth before he let it out, but Scott could feel something about the word didn't seem to fit right, didn't ring the same way the truth to both Felix and Demetri's words had before, or even Marcus's earlier. 'Even as the world continued to do so, that old man gave stubborn a face. Anyway, long story short, I was hunting in the woods and had been tracking a stag for the last few kilometres, having crossed into Greece – about 7-8 miles – when we ran into each other. We had a conversation, Amun deemed me…suitable and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a shack in Thessaloniki as a Newborn.'

'Fuck.' It fell out of Scott's mouth before he could catch it. 'Sorry, dude.'

Demetri gave a shrug. 'Time does eventually let you perceive events differently. If Amun had not changed me, I never would have discovered my gift and therefore would never have been offered a place on the Guard. Your perspective will change.'

'Yeah, probably.' Scott could see that, 'But you're allowed to mourn what was taken from you, right? I, at least, was given a choice.'

'Kind of.' Felix drawled and Scott sent him a black look.

'You'll realize something, Felix, about me and Willow.' There was anger at that quip the behemoth had thrown out like Scott hadn't known what he was subjecting himself to when he offered the choice to the Kings, 'We go to bat for each other, and if there are situations that we need to know something – like say, the existence of vampires which we have subsequently nearly died from two days prior – we tell each other everything we know. Don't think I just threw the suggestion like it was a game. It wasn't. I knew what I was getting into when I changed my flight from Sicily to here, what I was playing with, what I was tempting. But if my suggestion keeps things civil between the Cullens and yourselves, and thus keeps my family safe? There's no other choice there.'

Scott knew, at least partially, that Felix had been trying to make a joke of things, to brighten the situation after the tidbit of Demetri's story. But there was something that had just set that small human part of Scott that remained off. Because it had felt that Felix didn't understand why Scott had done what he had, what he and Willow knew what he was doing, what he was giving, and for who he was giving it up. And it wasn't for Bella, not truly, it might have seemed like that but in the long run, it hadn't been.

If Scott had to name a flaw for himself, it would have been loyalty. To his family, his friends, and the relationships he had even if it meant he was being left in the dust.

Over the past few months, Scott mused, seeing the memories through frosted glass, Bella had torn his patience to shreds but he knew the pain she was coping with was the reason behind everything, and the fact that she couldn't tell anyone about what Edward, and the Cullens, were because the only other person that knew what she was going through was in Canada made it all the worse. And it was that fact, and the promise he made to Willow about keeping an eye on the girl that kept him coming back, even if it was a little more distant every time.

In the end, that loyalty had gotten him killed but he thought, at least a little bit, it might have been worth it.

Hopefully, anyway.

'You're right.' Felix nodded, contrite. 'And I apologize. Personally, it felt like you weren't because of Bella and all that…drama. Seriously, why couldn't Edward pick up a phone?'

'He did.' Scott grumbled, those fresh memories the clearest as they wandered the empty fields of Tuscany, the three of them not ready to go back yet. 'Except a family friend had gotten the phone and told him that Chief Swan, Bella's father, was at a funeral.'

'And didn't elaborate?' Demetri quipped.

'Ding, ding. He was at a funeral of a childhood friend, who had had a heart attack a week prior but because of the lack of information, Edward jumped at the idea that it was Bella and thus, the whole Romeo and Juliet thing.'

'I'm dead.' Demetri spoke, words dry as the desert. 'And in the minutes I spent with them, they nearly gave me a headache.'

Scott couldn't help the bark of laughter, harsh and sharp, as it escaped him. 'Try being surrounded by one of them as they went through an intense dissociative episode that felt like it lasted months. Those two have always been intense, since the time they started getting close to each other long before the birthday party.'

He scratched his nose then, smelt the remnants of the boar and stag on his hands and realised he was still only in his underwear and the robe. Demetri noticed and tilted his head towards Volterra, 'Italy will still be here, but shall we get you some clothes?'

Scott brought a hand to his hair and grimaced when a leaf caught in his fingers. 'And maybe a shower?'

Felix grinned. 'Race you back, little rocket.'

Before he took off like a shot, without counting down. 'Oh fuck you!'

Okay, a note for you before I get an onslaught of reviews going on about why Demetri was saying Felix's name wrong. In this fic, I see Demetri as being Eastern European, hence the use of the nickname in previous chapters but I still had him being changed in Greece to coincide with those that are canon caretakers. I like to fuck with canon, regardless of the fanfic I write for, especially if I don't agree with whatever the fuck is happening, especially with character deaths. (Hi Game of Thrones). Anyway, so onto the reasons he was saying 'Felya' - anyone who has read even a morsel of Shadow and Bone or Vampire Academy fanfic knows where I'm going with this, Eastern Europe like their nicknames and diminutives so Demetri is saying Felix's name, just a smaller version of it because he can and he did.

Also, brat is Russian for brother. So is fratello.

Anyway, let me know what you think of our boy's first hours as a vampire and I'll see you next Fine Life Friday.

Enjoy,

K x