Another slow, slow update. Apologies all around, but I'm tied down a bit. Unfortunately I have other stuff to do that can't be delayed, while this can (You know the usual, tests and stuff). Anyway, I promise to put the next one up a lot sooner than I put up this one.

If anyone's still confused at this point as to who the characters are, due to the name changes, (Though God knows I tried to give enough clues to the identities), here is a collated list of the people and their powers, and distinguishing characteristics. If you still can't figure 'em out, please feel free to e-mail me, and I'll see if I can tell you who they are without getting too annoyed. Any changes/ additions to canon will be put into curly brackets.

Here's the list:

Dramatis Personae:

Remus Lebeau: Can make objects explode; can create a kinetic shield around himself. Has empathic powers, handsome, charming, with long brown hair and glowing red pupils on black eyes. Is a vampire, can use his powers to fly and make objects float, can delay explosions as he wills, is suffering from a split personality. Note: In this, Remus can use his powers from a distance, an ability he had at one point in canon. Can charge organic matter as well, in case you're confused after reading Ultimate X-men # 51.

Jessica (Last name not given): Has the ability to absorb energy, memories and mutant powers through skin contact. Has a white streak in her hair and a southern accent she tries to hide.

James (Last name not given): Has an enhanced healing factor, and bone claws that can be extended upon will. Short, hairy, and grim most of the time.

Madeline Elaine Grey: Has telepathic and telekinetic powers, allowing her to read minds and move objects, brainwash people, and fly. Has red hair and green eyes, and dimples.

Alexander (Last name not given): Uses ambient solar power to power energy beams mainly emitted from his hands. Blonde haired, blue eyed. Hates his brother. Is a vampire, is the leader of Remus's coven. Can use his beam to impact against solid ground to enhance his jump, making him appear to fly.

Francis (Last name not given): Telepathic. Bald, confined to a wheelchair because he is a pacifist,and therefore refuses to drink blood. Is a vampire, is a member of Alexander's coven, is too weak to even move himself. Communicates by thought.

Nathaniel (Last name not given): Super strong, mildly telepathic, can fire energy projectiles. Has an enhanced healing factor. Has metal-like hair and very white, steely skin. Has a ruby in the middle of his forehead and glowing red eyes. Is a vampire, is being held against his will in Nur's pyramid

I hope that clears things up a bit. I'll put up any new characters introduced at the beginning of the sequel.

I also wanted to put an accumulated list of terms used in this fic, which are not part of x-men canon. The explanation, though it comes late, should help to give you a clearer idea of the abilities and limits of different people in this fic.

Terms:

Vampire: (No, seriously. Even though this term is the core of the fic, I haven't given a formal definition for it yet, so here it is): A race separate from homo sapiens and homo superior, which is created by a vampire draining the blood of either a homo sapiens or a homo superior, and making the person drink the vampires' blood. It is not yet known how the first vampire was created.

A vampire has white skin (even if he was dark skinned before he became a vampire), and eyes that are lustrous and hypnotizing. Vampire's are stronger than the other two races, and have skin that is almost impossible to pierce, and hair that is very hard to cut. They heal and move much faster than man or mutant, and can regenerate lost limbs. Daylight is lethal to them, and they burn in the sun.

Vampire's are poisoned and weakened if they drink the blood of a dead person. Strong fires can also harm them, but a stake through the heart is not lethal, and neither is garlic. Vampires only drink blood (even that of animals and birds), and feel ill if they eat or drink anything else. They are immortal unless killed by the sunlight or by a strong fire, and grow in strength and all other attributes as they drink more blood, becoming more powerful as they age. They sleep from dawn to dusk, and if attacked in their sleep, they unconsciously defend themselves, perhaps by choking the assailant, but without waking up.

A vampire that does not drink blood weakens steadily, and may eventually fall into a semi-catatonic state. The period where the vampire does not drink blood is called starvation. A vampire that drinks after a period of starvation increases in power by a large amount, more than he would have had he been drinking throughout the same period. Not every vampire is a mutant, though the majority are, and it is suspected that the x-gene is linked to the power one has as a vampire.

Upon Turning (into vampires,) most internal organs dissolve away, such as the stomach and intestines, and in females, the uterus and the rest of the reproductive system. Female vampires therefore do not have the ability to have children, though the males can. However, they can only have offspring by coupling with female humans, or mutants, and the children born of this union are freaks, usually disfigured and always insane. Therefore, making love to a woman is punishable by death, though this is usually avoided as the male vampire is castrated (by law), before being Made a vampire.

(Whew. I hope that covers all of it.)

Coven, and coven leader: A group of vampires' residing in one place under a mutual leader is called a coven. They are linked together through a series of rituals that connect them to the leader. The coven stays in the same place, and feeds from its territory, not encroaching on the territory of other covens. Usually, the number is limited to about three or four vampires' in a coven, because more vampires' mean too much of a strain on their food source: humans.

The coven leader is decided before the rituals by vote, and has special powers as a result of the ritual. He can read the minds of his coven members (no-one else), and know their locations (within a certain distance from him), or their general locations, if they are far from him. At very close distances, such as half a foot from his body, he can actually control the body of a member of his coven. This is to prevent attacks on him by them. Only the coven leader is allowed to kill vampires', and those too only from his coven, if he wants. Disputes between members of a coven are decided by the coven leader, and disputes between covens are decided by a meeting of the respective leaders, or by the council of Elders (or the council of Ancients).

Hatchling, Fledgling, Vampire, Elder, Ancient: Names given to a vampire, depending upon his power and ability. (To be explained in detail later on).

Terms referring to the creation of a vampire: Capitalizations, such as Born, Born into Darkness, Made, Created, Turned (or Turning). (eg, 'when I was Born' – means, 'when I was made a vampire').

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If that introduction wasn't big enough, here's the chapter, the biggest one in the story. Heh. I hope you like it. As always, review, please. It keeps me going.

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When Jessica opened her eyes, the sun was shining on her face. She turned to her side, and saw Madeline's face. Behind Madeline, James lay snoring. They were all on a bed, and the sun shone in her face because most of the roof was missing.

Dimly she realized she wasn't in the hotel room. As she remembered the events that had taken place the night before, she burrowed in the bed, as if it would provide some sanctuary against Remus. Then she remembered that a vampire would be killed by the sun, so she and her friends were safe for the moment. She glanced at her watch, realizing that sunset was only two hours away. She had slept – had been put to sleep for over ten hours.

She looked around the place then, realizing that this was the mansion Remus had told her about. If he hadn't lied about that as well, she thought bitterly. She got out of bed, having decided that she needed to find an escape route.

She went to the top first, making her way up stairs filled with grime and broken in places. Cautiously, she climbed to what was left of the roof. She could see into the bedchamber below, where Madeline and James were still sleeping. Reaching the edge of the roof, she peered over the parapet.

As she saw the empty acres stretching out and the lights of Paris so far away and indistinct as to be a memory or trick of the imagination, and as she noticed the lack of any automobiles around, she knew that Remus would capture them if they ran. Having no options left, she went down to wake James and Madeline and ask them what they thought.

After they were woken, and had recovered their wits to a certain extent, Jessica asked them what they thought must be done.

"I can fly," Madeline said, her tone making it sound so natural that she might have claimed to breathe, "but I can't take all three of us out of here."

"Save Jess if you can," James said, "but get out of this haunted house. Please, Maddy."

"I won't go without you," she said resolutely.

"I can absorb her power," Jessica offered, "but I don't know if I can control it enough to avoid knocking her out, or how long I will be able to use it to fly. I wouldn't want to crash in mid-air."

James shook his head. "If we find the vampire, we can kill him," he said, "he must be here somewhere. We can expose him to the sun."

"What if he isn't here?" Madeline asked. James replied with the curtest answer he had given her.

"You can operate on that theory, and sit here twiddlin' yer pretty toes. Me an' Jess got work to do." He headed out the door. "Comin', Jess?" he called over his shoulder. Jessica followed him, as did Madeline with an amused smile on her face.

A search of all the twenty odd rooms revealed no coffins or false floors under which a vampire could sleep. The sun was sinking into the west when James suggested that they get into the garden so there would be room to manoeuvre, instead of being confined in a room. He was going to try and take Remus down.

They left the house, and stood in the garden, avoiding the vines and weeds that infested the place. The tension in the air was palpable. As was the smell of decay. Overwhelmed by the stench, Jessica was just about to suggest that they head inside, when a hand burst from the soil. She couldn't hold back a scream, and was joined by Madeline, as James swore.

"Sonofabitch! He was in the garden! The bloody garden!"

Remus then pulled himself out of the soil and looked at them, brushing his clothes off.

"Come inside," he said, as cordially as if he was the host at a Christmas party, and not a bloodthirsty vampire about to kill them.

When they made no move, he sighed.

"I'll lead the way, since you don't trust me behind you. But please, do come on in, I know you cannot stand the stink of rotting vegetation." He lit up a torch then, and disappeared into the house.

Hesitantly, Jessica moved to follow him. James caught her arm, but she continued moving.

"He can kill us any time he chooses," she said, her voice hollow, "so we might as well go where he wants us to. It won't make any difference what we do."

So saying, she walked into the house. James and Madeline hesitated for only a second before following her.

x-----x-----x

Alexander was examining the door, as Nathaniel waited nearby, a sinister smile on his face. He knew something not even Alexander did, and he was waiting for Alexander to find out – in the worst way possible.

He had said that he was not going to attempt to kill them, and Francis for one believed him. He had someone far worse in mind.

It did not make sense to Francis though. Nathaniel had not a hope of convincing Nur to kill Alexander; Nur did as he saw fit, and nothing could stop him, and almost nothing could change his mind. Something else was afoot, and he could not begin to guess what it was.

Alexander had finally stopped examining the door. He backed away slightly, then raised his right hand, pointing it at the center of the massive doors. He appeared to be charging up.

"Have you not wondered, Alexander," Nathaniel said suddenly, "like I have, of what happened to some of our vampire family? The coven we had, with Nur as our leader? Some were burnt to death when he decided to cull us, but some escaped."

"Four of us," Alexander said, his eyes still locked on the door, "and all accounted for."

"Yes, four," Nathaniel said, still smiling. "But not all accounted for."

Alexander looked at Nathaniel then, for a few brief seconds, his face growing angry. Then he turned his gaze and his anger on the door, blasting it apart. Then he stared into the chamber inside, the anger draining out of his face.

"Do you see what I see?" asked Nathaniel, his voice low, as he made his way to Alexander's side. He stood there for a moment, and then he started to laugh softly.

x-----x-----x

Remus led the way to the room where he had left Jessica and the others. He waited until they had caught up to him, then he walked to the wall opposite the door, raising his torch and searching for the crack. When he found it, he simply kicked the wall in. There was no need for him to use the hidden lever; he would not use this place ever again.

He made his way into the secret room that had been revealed, the others following cautiously. The room was about ten feet wide and sixteen feet across, and was empty except for a few normal chairs against the side walls and a large throne-like one at the end. This was the place that had been used as a meeting and hiding place during the time of the French revolution, when the coven-house was subjected to daytime raids.

First, he lit all the twenty or so candles which stood in their holders, attached to the side walls, then Remus made his way to the large chair at the end and sat down on it, for the first time in his life. It had been Alexander's chair all those hundreds of years ago. As he watched the three hesitatingly take seats, he idly wondered what Alexander was doing.

Outwardly, though, he gave about as much sign of life as a marble statue, chin resting on his clasped hands, staring at the floor. After about a minute or two of silence, James, impatient as always, could not take it anymore.

"Well, are you gonna kill us already? I'm dyin' ta gut ya."

"I haven't brought you here to kill you," Remus said, still staring at the floor, "I hope you realise I could have done that at any time during the past two nights."

They obviously didn't believe him, nor did he expect them to. Madeline, however, asked him the question that was on all their minds.

"Why have you brought us here then, Remus? If that is actually your real name."

Remus raised his head then, staring dully at her.

"I brought you here, because the truth must be told. I need to have my story told, I need to tell you how I was made a vampire, what my life has been like."

Remus got up off the chair and walked up to Jessica. She flinched, and James growled, but he simply bent down in front of her. She did not look at his face, but instead looked at the floor. James stuck out his claws, but Remus ignored him and spoke quietly, his voice intent.

"You hate me now, Jessica, but you do not know the complete story. Let me tell you exactly what I am, let me tell you how I came to be this way. I want you to know who you hate. I just want you to understand me." He wasn't using his empathy, and so it surprised him to see tears in her eyes as she raised her head. She nodded slowly, and Remus felt intensely relieved. It was better if she hated what he really was, instead of what she thought him to be.

"Stay on the other side o' the room," James growled. Remus nodded, and ran to the other side of the room faster than their eyes could see, making it look like he had teleported there. He did it to show James what a foolish precaution it was.

"I was born in the year ten-eighteen," he began, pausing for a second as they gasped in astonishment.

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"My father owned this mansion. A manor it was then, and he was a nobleman. I never saw much of him when I was growing up; I was the youngest, and he was forever out hunting with my brother's, or attending parties by other nobles, or occasionally overseeing the planting of crops.

"The only time we were a family was at dinnertime. Then, my father would sit at the head of the table, my mother on his right and my eldest brother on his left, and the rest of the family in the remaining spaces, according to age. There were five of us, three brothers and than a sister older than I. At dinnertime, we would be a family, for a few minutes, and then we would go our separate ways. I was normal then, with my eyes a light brown colour.

"My mother kept to herself, unlike my father who I rarely saw because he was always out, my mother would stay inside her room for hours at a time with her books. She was the only one out of us all who could read. It was not unusual that none of us could read, but this being the medieval period, it was unusual that she, as a woman, could.

"She had come from Paris proper, and she was the daughter of a Parisian nobleman, much more important than my father, whose manor was a week away from Paris as the coach travels.

"My father was not important enough to have his own army of knights, and I believe this was one of the reasons our mother withdrew from us and stayed with her books. She was married to my father for convenience, since he was essentially a farmer with a title, her father would not have to worry about his army starving.

"But she performed her duty to her husband, giving him an heir and several spares, and then quietly faded from his life, giving him a wide berth while he went about carousing and womanizing.

"My elder brothers' were all the same in character; describing one would give an accurate description of all. Essentially, they liked to spend their mornings hunting, their evenings drinking, and their nights with various women. In those times, it was the accepted norm, and the villages that my father owned would provide women, willingly or unwillingly, but always hoping that there would be love, followed by marriage.

"There was no chance of that, of course; my brothers' were too callous to treat the women like women, and even if one of them would have fallen in love, he would have been cast out by my father.

"My sister on the other hand, was the darling of the family. Our nucleus, you might say, keeping us all together. Her bright blue eyes and perpetual smile was the only thing that would make my brother's and father lay aside their plans for a night of debauchery, and spend time with the family. It was only she that could pry my reticent mother out of her shell. For the first ten years of my life, she was my constant companion. We watched the flight of the birds, the villagers working in the fields; we laughed and played together in the garden."

Remus paused for a second as James fired a question.

"You've made out yer dad an' yer brothers ta be these drunken gimps, but what about you? I won't believe you didn't do any o' those things if the rest of yer family did."

Remus smiled easily, "well, I didn't do those things," he said, then at the look on James's face, added, "I see you don't believe me. But rest assured it would have been impossible for me to go about whoring, because at this time of my life I was ten years old.

"As I was saying, it was only my sister that kept us together as a family. Even at the age of ten, I hated my life. Effectively I had no father or mother. My brothers were slightly more accommodating; they occasionally acknowledged my existence, and took me hunting with them.

"I wasn't allowed to hunt, of course, because I was too young, and because the one time I had been allowed to shoot with the longbow had been the time none of my brothers had gotten a kill, and as a joke they had let me try to use the longbow. Barely being able to pull the string back a foot, I had still hit a partridge. No one likes being stood up by their brother, and so that was the last hunting trip for me.

"Shortly afterwards, I was sent to a monastery, in the hopes that I would be the salvation for the whole male side of my family, who had mutually volunteered me into the service of God.

"The monastery was not all that bad at first; there were people who spoke to me, actually acknowledged my existence. They were all kind people, the monks there. They taught me how to read and write, and I found it really nice simply because it gave me something to do, as well as opening up a wealth of information. But I quickly grew tired of the reading because there was not much to read except for the Bible and commentaries on it. Mass printing had not been invented, and the only texts around were religious ones. I freely admit I was not pious enough to have them sustain my interest for long.

"I stayed at the monastery for five or six years, but I experienced no sudden elevation of morals. It was at this time that I received news that my sister had died. Without consulting anyone, I ran away from the monastery and returned home.

"I stood in the bushes near the house, watching her being carried out. It was the custom to have the body uncovered, instead of hidden in the coffin. Her body was placed on a bier instead of in a coffin, but it had been covered with a blanket until only her head was showing. I remember how her blonde hair framed her pale face. Her eyes were closed and she seemed at peace. I stood there watching her, feeling a well of grief inside me. I was weeping openly. My parents were crying as well, and even my brothers, manly men, looked like they would soon begin blubbering.

"Suddenly a stabbing wind howled in from the west, whipping the blanket off her body. My grief turned to shock and horror as I saw the scratch marks that had been made on her throat. Her hands were scratched as well, and if the body had not been clothed, scratch marks would have been seen there as well.

"I rushed to my family then, ignoring their expressions of shock at seeing me return without warning. I asked them about the scratch marks, and was told that she had been killed by a pack of wolves that had somehow raided our manor. At that time, I was young and foolish enough to think that wolves actually had dared come so close to our manor house, ignoring all the villages surrounding us. It was afternoon then, and I rushed to the armoury to pick up a battleaxe and a longbow, weapons I had not touched since I was only ten, and even then barely once or twice, weapons I had not a chance of mastering in the next few hours. I collected my brother's hunting dogs, two big mastiffs, and I chased off in the direction the wolves were supposed to have come from, my father and brothers shouting after me to stop. But there was blood on my mind, and I knew I would return a wolfslayer, or not return at all.

"As I rode through the fields, I could only remember my sister's laugh, her voice. We were the closest, you see, and it had been she who had most strongly opposed my entrance to the monastery. I had no secrets from her, and she had none from me. She had been only twenty when the wolves came, and it was this that spurred me to the most anger. I knew of course, that she and I would not always be together; she would get married and go away, or die after a long illness as was often the case in medieval France, but it was the suddenness of her demise that gave rise to the most violent emotions in me."

Remus was looking at the floor, and he suddenly realized blood was dripping on to it from his eyes. His tears. Even after nearly a thousand years, the memory of his sister was vivid. He looked up, and saw that James appeared unmoved, as did Jessica, but Madeline's eyes were glistening; she showed her emotions more freely.

"Why do you cry?" Remus snarled, baring his teeth at all three of them. "I am still a monster, a blood drinker. I do not expect you to change your judgement of me, for it is a fair judgement. I just want you to know what you are judging," he looked at Jessica, his voice almost a whisper, "what you are condemning." Then he straightened up, continuing his narrative.

"It was approaching evening when I reached the forest where the wolves den was. I travelled for about another hour before the dogs at my side growled and my horse whinnied softly with fright. I pressed on forward, knocking the arrow and flexing the drawstring. After twenty yards or so I could make out vague shapes, and glowing yellow eyes. I made my horse trot on, forcing her into a straight canter, when all she wanted to do was run like hell itself were after her. Eventually, we rode out into a clearing about twenty five yards wide. At the end was a tumble of rocks, effectively blocking an escape. I let the wolves materialise in front of me, four of them, then I let go of my dog's leashes.

"The first shot I fired fell two feet wide of the mark, and it was so shaky that it would have not penetrated the wolves' hide. And then, I could not let off another shot as my dogs met the wolves.

"Perhaps it was lucky for me that they both attacked the same wolf, killing it before the pack closed upon them. The pack only suffered a broken bone on one of the remaining wolves before they finished off the dogs and turned their attention to me. At the time I could only vaguely notice that they looked well-fed rather than starving; which made it hardly likely that they would pass through a line of villages before coming to the manor.

"But as I said, I pondered on this later. Much later. At that point, I was occupied with the much higher priority of saving my life. In my heart I had given up hope; the hounds had been my only defence. So there I stood, and I thought of my sister. Determined to avenge her before I died, I stood in the saddle, another arrow knocked, and as I steadied it with my hand, I noticed it was glowing. Glowing, like my rage. I released it, watching it course straight into the body of a wolf. Suddenly the wolf seemed to explode internally, a surprised expression on its' face, and smoke emanating from its' ears. It then collapsed unseeing onto the dirt of the forest floor.

"The two remaining wolves' recognised my projectiles as a threat and charged me. I was still sitting in my saddle, stunned at the explosion. This was the first time my mutant powers had manifested themselves. As they charged, my horse took matters into her own hands.

"She smashed the skull open of one of them, but the other bit her hamstring, bringing her crashing down. I was thrown clear, and lay winded, watching as the wolf cut my horse open. My battleaxe had landed beside me though, and I picked it up, at that moment using it more as a crutch than a weapon.

"As soon as I had recovered sufficiently, I charged the wolf, swinging wildly. Wolves' however, are smart, and this one dodged easily, bringing his jaws in to snap me on my backswing. I realized he was toying with me, wearing me down until I dropped my weapon out of sheer exhaustion. Then he would attack.

"Eventually he drove me up the rocks, my swings becoming more lagged. I tried to make the battleaxe glow like I had with the arrow, but to no avail. I finally sat down, the battleaxe lying across my lap. The wolf was smart, but not too smart, as he chose this moment to attack, instead of making sure I was really out of the fight. As he jumped, I swung my axe, disembowelling him. I dropped my axe wearily as I looked around and saw all four wolves' had been killed.

"Then, above the sound of falling blood, I heard a growl. I looked behind me, and saw a wolf much bigger than the other four. He was apparently the leader of the pack, and had been watching the course of the battle from the shadows. With no further warning he leapt at me.

"I grappled with him, strange as it may seem, but I had no strength or time to pick up my axe. As I held him by the neck, forcing his fangs away from my face, I felt his claws scratch deep into my body. Then I heard explosions.

"I did not know what had happened at the time, but later examination revealed that every claw on all four paws had been blown off. I didn't notice at that time because all of my dwindling strength was poured into strangling him. Unluckily for him, he had no hands to remove mine from his neck. After what seemed like hours, but was only twenty minutes or so, he finally gave up the ghost.

"I think I passed out then, and when I came to, it was because mosquitoes, attracted by the stench of blood, were biting me. Wearily I crawled to my feet, hoisted the big wolf on my shoulders and walked out of the forest.

"I think some peasant in a nearby village gave me a horse, or drove me to the manor in his cart, but I do not remember the journey home too well. I eventually walked into the manor, the wolf around my shoulders, at dinnertime. I walked up to where my father was gaping at the head of the table, slung the wolf in front of him, and said something like 'your daughter is avenged.' Then I collapsed on the floor.

"I hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness for the next several weeks. At times I saw my mother watching over me. Other times I saw my sister, so I believed I was hallucinating. But when I was well enough to take my meals and sit up in bed, my mother did come to visit me.

"She was quiet, as she always was. For several seconds she stood there, just looking at me. When I opened my eyes, she gave a little gasp. When I asked her what the matter was, she brought me a looking-glass. I stared into my red irises, and saw the whites turning blackish at the edges.

" 'Your father will never allow you in the house if he sees you now,' she said, and it was the first time she had shown me the slightest concern that I could remember. 'He'll think you have been transformed into a werewolf by the scratches,' she added. This being the dark ages, I believed her prediction of my father's reaction.

" 'I'm not a werewolf,' I protested, and she nodded, holding my hand as proof she still trusted me. She had not ever touched me that I could recall because she found it distasteful to touch people, and I found this gesture of hers very touching.

" 'You have to leave the house,' she said, her voice urgent, 'in a few weeks' time, when you can walk again, you must fly to Paris. Staying here means only imprisonment or death for you.' All my arguments were cast aside and ignored. I was going to see the city of Paris.

"For the next week and a half I lay bedridden, hiding my eyes whenever my father or brothers' would come to visit. By the end of the week, the red colour had become brighter, and the eyeballs solid black. I could not look in the mirror anymore because the horror that were my eyes stared back at me and convinced me that I was an abomination. I had no inkling that I was a mutant, that as my powers had manifested when I had shot the glowing arrow, my eyes had started to change. I thought I was damned by God. I wasn't, then, but I am now. And it was, as you may have guessed, because of events that took place in Paris.

"After the week and the half, my mother came to me with some money. More money than I had seen in my life. More money, I was sure, than my father had at the moment. My mother had sold some of her jewels for me. It was painful for her; each had its' own history, its' own procession down her family.

"I took the money, kissed her cheek before she could stop me, saddled my horse, and then I galloped off like a thief in the night. There were no drawn out goodbyes from me, because I might have stayed then, instead of running to save my life. As it happened, I rode throughout the night, slept in a field for an hour or two, and then rode most of the day before I stopped at one of the outer villages, arriving about two hours before sunset.

"It's been a thousand years, nearly, and I still cannot forget her. Out of the blue I swept into her life, and I carried her along with the mad rush I spent the whole of my mortal life in.

"I met her a couple of hours before sunset, my horse nearly falling into the ground with exhaustion, as I jumped out of the saddle and walked into the dusty village. It had one or two streets as I recall, and she was filling water from the small well in the middle of the village. She saw the state I was in, not long recovered from my illness, but I think it was more the poor horse she noticed, foaming at the mouth and shivering at the knees. She offered me the hospitality of her fathers' house, and my horse the village stables. I gratefully accepted, of course, and went into her house.

"After I had had some food, I helped her with her chores, which involved feeding the chickens and some other things. I had missed most of her chores since my arrival had been late in the day, and most villagers finished of their work by sunset. With my help, she finished in about an hour, and so we had plenty of time to talk."

"I had, as I mentioned earlier, spent all my adolescence in a monastery. I had had no friends when I was young, since my status as the son of the landlord-noble made me a remote and unapproachable figure in the eyes of the local youth. My only experience with the opposite gender had been a reticent mother and a sister who was so close I viewed her as an extension of myself, and not as a separate personality.

He paused, the hint of a smile appearing in his thin cheeks, remembering events that had happened around the same time as the battle of Normandy. Then he broke out of his introspection, giving the reason for his smile.

"Our conversation was most strange; I found that I could easily push aside my talkative nature, and ask her a question, which would launch her into an excited monologue, for she could chatter away as easily as I. The conversation we had lasted until dinnertime, about an hour or two, and my only contribution to it was to ask her inane questions about her family, or her dreams, or her cows while I sat there and simply looked at her, looking at the way her blue eyes lit up as she described her wish to go to Paris and marry an important nobleman someday, and the way her blonde hair caught the dying rays of the sun. She was beautiful, my Belle.

"I won't lie to you, Jessica," Remus said, looking at her. She was listening attentively to the story, and at the moment there was something tensed in the expression. James and Madeline were listening, rapt with attention. Remus bent forward and looked deep into Jessica's eyes before continuing, "After we had eaten dinner with her family, we slipped away to a hayloft and I made love to her. Jessica, if we had had a future, if there had been an 'us', I know you'd be disappointed at not being the first one. I wanted to get this out in the open." The taughtness in her face had loosened, to be replaced with an emptiness. Before he could speak further, James interrupted.

"She ain't interested where a vampire sticks his prick, bub." He snarled, and was about to add a few more words when Jessica laid a gloved hand on his forearm. He stopped, surprised.

"I'm glad you told me, Remus," she said, her face expressionless as she looked at him, "it makes it easier to dislike you."

He stared at her for a long moment, his face equally devoid of expression, then with a nod of understanding; he leaned back and picked up his narrative again.

"She was a simple country girl, and I impressed her with my blazing description of Paris, though I had never seen it before, and the much embellished description of my father, who she knew as being a mysterious, shadowy overlord. I also made up some story about my eyes, as them being a blessing from God after I had killed about ten or twenty wolves' with my bare hands. Eventually, through some fast-talking, through the course of which I likened her face to the moon and swore that there could be no room in my heart for another, she consented to come with me to the hayloft.

"When I woke in the morning, my mind, though only sixteen and immature, reasoned very correctly that if word got out of what had happened, the villagers would hang me, and if they didn't, my family certainly would. And so, with all the intelligence available to me at that moment, I made the questionable decision of waking up Belle and convincing her to fly to Paris with me.

"That decision changed my life.

"When we finally arrived in Paris about five days later, I had to support myself and my very apprehensive companion with the finite money my mother had given me, and with no skills to garner some more. I knew, as I stepped into Paris, and rented a room at a cheap hotel near the entrance, that I was in trouble.

"I could describe to you the Paris of those times, the atmosphere charged with the ringing steel of the blacksmith as he forged the weapons of war, I could describe the way the nobles avoided most places except the inner city, even though this Paris was a tiny fraction of today's Paris. I could tell you about the excitement one felt, simply to be standing there, but I could tell you all this for days and not come close to doing it justice, so I will just tell you what my life was like in that Paris.

"Belle and I, both sixteen, were married by a very confused priest, who could not figure why our family had not shown up for the wedding. I'm pretty sure he guessed we had run away, but he spoke not a word about it to anyone. It was a month of marital bliss after that, but we soon had to concentrate on growing up.

"Our money was running out. The sum which had seemed so substantial a month ago was reduced to a franc or two, enough in those days to provide with food and lodging for a week or two, but not after that. Suddenly I was forced to look for work, the most work that I had ever done in my life being the recovery of arrows when my brothers' took me hunting and left the servants behind.

"Belle quickly got accustomed to the idea of working for a living; she had been doing so for eleven years or so already. I however, could not bear the idea of manual labour. I searched aimlessly around until I found my calling in life. It was a carnival and theatre act.

"The advantage of this was that Belle and I got lodgings for a low rent. Granted the roof was straw, and the walls thin and leaky, but we were together, and we were happy. I was an acrobat in the circus, and the colour of my eyes was thought to be the result of falling too many times on my head while performing the tricks.

"I also became the star of the little theatre show a year later, and I convinced Belle with a lot of begging and pleading, to be the female lead. In those days, the theatre was not firmly established, and men performed all roles. I couldn't bear the thought of singing poetry to a man - no offence, James, you're nice and all, but I can't think of a guy that way -" - James grunted - "and I convinced Belle into making us the only theatre in Paris which had a female lead at that time.

"Unknown to Belle, I had also started a career as a pickpocket, my acrobat friends teaching me the tricks of that trade. I was really good at it, and at the end of my mortal life, I could rob a man walking alone in the street with his hands in his pockets.

"Four years passed, and we got to an acceptable level of prosperity, moving out of the straw-thatched room into a room with an actual roof. It was still one room, but we had hopes of moving into a two room house when the baby came."

"Baby?" Jessica echoed. Remus smiled sadly.

"Yes, a baby. Belle had already had a miscarriage, and we were sure that this would be the one. We had started saving up, dreaming our little dreams, envisioning a family. And then, one day, about a month after Belle's pregnancy had started, I was washing a silver chain I had 'found.' It had a large clasp, and was probably cheap quality silver, though I couldn't tell. Darkness had fallen, and Belle was outside, returning from the work she did in some nearby lesser nobleman's house.

"Silently, she came from behind me, circling my waist and startling me. She was ecstatic when I showed her the chain, and she put it on quickly. We had no mirror, and she stood in the centre of the room while I described it as well as I could to her. As I was describing it to her, however, I realised it was glowing, the same red glow that my arrow had, so long ago. This was the second manifestation of my powers.

"I screamed at her to take it off, to throw it away, I even leapt toward her. But she was too far away for me to reach, and she could not open the clasp in time." Remus paused, seeming to will himself to go on. "The explosion was loud, and I was thrown back. When I got up and rushed to Belle's side, I saw her lying there, her lower face blackened, and a hole in her chest. Her fingers had been blown off as well while she was undoing the clasp. A pool of her blood was spreading below her. Only her eyes and her hair seemed the same. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

"I was raving, maddened with grief; it was she who was calm. She asked me in a quiet voice, though it must have hurt her terribly to do so, about what had happened. I described it to her as nearly as I could, cursing myself a hundred times. I think she knew from the look in my eyes that I would kill myself, for she told me to carry on with my life, and to think of her as only a memory. I could do nothing but hold her hand and watch her life ebb away.

"After I buried her, the first thing I did was to burn the house down. That chapter of my life was closed, one way or another. I wandered around the city, barely coherent, until I found myself heading towards the river to drown myself. I was on my way when a carriage pulled up alongside. A man with a pale face and a bandana across his forehead pulled the curtain open from inside the carriage.

" 'Are you alright, monsieur?' He asked me. I think I muttered a few colourful French phrases and walked on. The carriage followed me, and the man spoke to me again.

" 'You seem troubled, monsieur,' he said, 'I see it in your eyes.'

"That made me stop short; I was sensitive about my eyes. When I looked at him, he removed the bandana, showing a ruby which seemed affixed in the centre of his forehead.

" 'There are others like you,' he said, 'and I can help them to control the strange things they do. It is my idea that this is the cause of your misery.' He waited for my nod, then spoke again. 'Come to my palace later in the night. I am the Cardinal Essex. The palace is the one at the north west side of town, not more than an hours walk from here. I will see you and treat you after dinner.' As he said that, his curtain fell, and the carriage drove on.

"I was still grieving over Belle's death, and I did not notice his name was not French, or the fact that in spite of him being a cardinal, I had not heard of him before. In the hope that I could end this curse God had put on me, I waited at a nearby hotel until I determined that he would have had dinner. Then I began walking in the direction he had indicated, and this walk was the one which changed my life.

"For some reason, the street I was on was empty. Of course, there was no electricity in those days, and most reasonable people tucked into bed by an hour after sunset, but one could always see a few people, usually beggars and thieves, around the place. This emptiness did not intrigue me; I was too caught up in thoughts of Belle to care about anything much.

"Suddenly, I felt powerful hands grab me. My neck was bent back, and teeth sunk into my throat. I felt my blood leave my veins, and I could not see anything of my attacker, except that his hair was shoulder length and white. I passed out, eventually, because my blood loss had made me weak.

"I woke up in the same alley a few minutes later, aware of a flowing in my mouth. I became aware that I was drinking my attackers' blood, and that I liked it. It was pleasure, it was ecstasy. Later I would find out that this was the only way to make another vampire, by drinking a mortal's blood to nearly the last drop, and then replacing it with the vampire's own.

"Eventually I had nearly drained him, and he detached my mouth from his wrist and staggered away, leaving me lying in the street with my mortal body dying; all my bodily fluids apart from blood and all waste matter being excreted. When this was over, ten minutes later, my mortal self had died. I was twenty-one."

Remus paused, noting the candles had burnt low. He stood up to get some more.

"What happened afterwards?" Madeline asked, her voice eager.

"I'm going to tell you," Remus said, walking out of the room at a speed they could see, "just as soon as I return."