THREE

John wearily opened his eyes to see the maple covering of his four poster bed. His eyes fell to the side, past the silk curtains (pulled back now by gold tassels) and saw Alex, sitting in a chair right beside him.

She smiled, "Hey, you had us a scared for a while. How are you feeling?"

He tried to move his leg but felt sharp bolts of pain shoot up it. He groaned and relaxed his muscles, staring off into space.

She frowned, "John?" she reached out and touched his hand gently, "John what is it?"

"He attacked me," he whispered, more to himself than to Alex, "My own son—"

Alex sighed and stroked his hand gently, "If there's anyone to blame, it's me. I shouldn't have convinced you to go there,"

He looked at her intently, "No, I'm glad you did. I needed to see them, one last time," his face fell sadly, "even if they didn't know it was me."

He glanced down at the bed sheets, "What happened? Shouldn't I be—?"

"Dead?" she laughed in spite of the situation, "The silver didn't penetrate deep enough to harm you severely, but if it had gone through your chest…" she trailed off, not needing to tell him what would have happened.

"You saved me, didn't you?"

She paused, caught up in the steady watch of his deep brown eyes. She noticed then how his hair (the rich color of hazelnut) hung loosely in his face now, giving him the appearance of being much younger than twenty four.

"It's my duty John, you know that. I have to protect the people in this house. That's what I'm here for," she smiled and stood, going to the dresser to fetch a vial for him to drink from. She solemnly handed it to him and he hesitated before taking it.

"It's mine, if that's what you're wondering," she said in a low voice.

He smiled and took a deep drink. Placing the vial on the nightstand he glanced over at her, "Jack wouldn't like that. He thinks your drink is weak."

"I know, I know," she said almost wishfully, "But I can't force you to drink human blood if you don't want to."

He chuckled, "Well I definitely don't want to." His face became serious, "Seriously Alex, thank you. If it wasn't for you I'd be gone." He put special emphasis on the word—gone. It was true, she knew it. If she hadn't been there he'd either have been stabbed to death or eaten alive when the sun rose.

But if I hadn't been there, neither would he.

She shook the thought from her mind, the same guilty thought that had been nagging at her since she had bandaged him up hours ago.

"Does Jack know?" he asked quietly.

She sighed heavily, "Yes, unfortunately. He's furious with me for bending the rules just so you could have 'a teary reunion,' his words not mine." She shrugged, "but he'll just have to accept that I have just as much power around here as he has."

Even if he is a pureblood.

She didn't share this last thought with John. He had only been a vampire for ten years, not long enough to know about the different breeds of their kind, and the status that came with it. He didn't need to know right now, not until the time was right.

Jack was a pureblood, born as a vampire. He had been born of Harold and Greta, the two previous regents. Alex had been a vampire for twenty years when Jack had been born. She had still been too young to understand the significance of the pureblood line.

At least one regent was to be a pureblood; that was the law of the vampires. It was tradition for the two reigning regents to bear a child, perhaps more. Alex could remember watching as Jack grew up, two years for every ten mortal ones until he reached twenty-six. After that he would cease to age entirely.

His mother had died thirty years after his birth, from drinking blood of a poisoned woman. After his father was killed he was left as the next regent, along with Alex.

Alex had been chosen to be regent for very special reasons. Reasons she did not readily give out.

John saw her pondering absently and decided to inquire about this, "Alex?"

She snapped back to reality and looked at him, "Do you need something?" she asked kindly, although she was a little irritated at being jostled from her thoughts.

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded slowly, wondering what on earth he could want to know.

He paused for a second before asking softly, "How did you become regent?"

She only stared at him for the longest time, thoughts racing for an answer she could give him. Why had he asked this? Why now of all times? It couldn't have been that obvious she was thinking about it.

She bit her lip before answering carefully, "Harold and Greta – the regents before me – trusted me, that's all."

He furrowed his brow, "So Harold gave it to you, a regular run of the mill vampire, and not to his son first?"

Alex started, "What?"

He laughed softly, "What do you think I did all those times in the library? I know enough about what happened to get the general idea."

"What do you know?" she was curious to see just how vast his information was.

He shrugged, "Only that Jack was Harold and Greta's son, and that they had another one as well," he eyed her slyly.

She froze, no one in this house under fifty years of age knew about Donavan.

She swallowed and leaned in closer to him, "If you mention anything to anyone in this house, I will personally stake you."

She rose and exited the room, leaving a slightly baffled John staring after her.

Ж

Alex spent the rest of the day carefully ripping pages from library books. It had never occurred to her that the information she wanted hidden could be so easily accessed.

She knew she couldn't throw them away, lest a mortal decided to dig through the trash.

So she placed them – folded neatly – in the pages of a book no one would touch, titled Science in Motion. Newborns may be interested in the past history of the clan, but she could rest easy knowing the pages were somewhere so unappealing.

The door opened quickly and she jumped a little at being intruded upon. She blinked when she saw it was John. He had a crutch under his arm and limped slowly over to her. She cursed their natural ability to heal so quickly, but smiled.

"Feeling better?"

He frowned, "I should be asking you. You really went off on me earlier."

She turned and discretely slipped the book back in its place, staling. "Well John, you did upset me."

"I know, and I apologize. I should have known better than to mention it to you."

"No, you didn't know better. That's just it. You're a newborn, you can't be blamed."

He sighed, "When does the title of 'newborn' diminish?"

She smiled to herself as she rearranged some of the books, "When you're not the newest one here."

He rolled his eyes and sat in an armchair, "With you in charge I'll be a newborn until I'm a hundred."

She laughed softly but didn't respond. Inside she was deeply troubled by his comment. It could be taken either way, as an insult or a compliment. She didn't know which one to choose.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "Well, I don't think I'm that good."

He frowned, "What do you mean?"

She brushed a cloak of dust off an old volume, "Well if I had things my way, there wouldn't be anymore newborns. I don't consider what we are a blessing, even if Jack thinks of it that way."

"That is what he tells us."

She turned around quickly, almost violently, "Jack is a pureblood, he knows nothing of the lives we once lived. He doesn't miss anything; he doesn't remember things like the sun. He has no right to tell us that our fate is a good thing."

He watched her as she continued to tidy up, not having anything to answer to something like that. He had had no idea that Alex felt so strongly about the subject. Actually, he had never heard her mention anything about it. From the moment he had entered this house he had been told that he was blessed to be immortalized as a vampire. He had never thought of it as a curse, aside from when he thoughts about his previous life.

Alex finished with her meaningless tasks and smiled at him, moving to pass him to the exit. Surprisingly, he stopped her by grabbing her arm gently.

"Alex," he asked softly and she looked up, keeping a solemn face on, "Please don't blame yourself for what happened."

She smiled as he let go of her arm, "I don't," she lied.

He smiled back, taking in her words as the truth. It hurt her to see that he trusted her so much, and here she was lying.

It isn't a big lie though, just a little white one to make him feel better.

She told herself these things, although they didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

She brushed past him gently, "I need to go—check something in the kitchen."

Another lie, you're on a roll.

She chose this time to ignore the voice and indeed headed to the kitchen, almost as if to prove her own subconscious wrong.

She sighed and picked up a glass and a rag, absently polishing the rim. A speck of blood was stained on, and she rubbed the spot over and over. But no matter how hard she rubbed, the spot stayed on, as if mocking her.

Frustrated, she gave a scream and hurled the glass against the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces.

Crying now, she bent down and carefully picked up the pieces. She fought to control herself as she threw away the pieces and rubbed away the scratch on the wall.

She didn't know she was being watched until she turned around to see Jack eyeing her with one brow raised.

She gave a startled gasp and stopped, "Jack,"

He watched her carefully, "Everything alright?"

She knew lying to him was the last thing she felt like doing right now, so she replied curtly, "Aside from the fact that John now knows all about you and Donavan?"

Jack frowned, "How could he?"

"Well I don't know Jack, whose idea was it to put all that information in the library?" she said sarcastically.

"Ah," he said, not knowing how else to respond, "That could be a problem. How much does he know?"

"Enough." She answered shortly.

The door bell rang, echoing through the now quiet house. Most of the residents had already departed for the evening.

"I'll be getting that, shall I?" she brushed past him towards the door, hearing as he climbed the stairs to the second story.

I'm surprised he hasn't already headed out for the evening.

She opened the door with no thought whatsoever to who would be on the doorstep. But when she saw the teen standing there, she froze.

Mathew stared back at her; as if unbelieving that he had found her. Alex too stared back, trying to focus on the fact that John's son was standing five feet away from her.

She closed the door behind her and stepped onto the stoop. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He blinked, and after a moment answered, "I know."

She wasn't in the mood, "I suppose you do. Is there anything I can help you with? How did you find us anyway?"

He shrugged, "I know a guy." He looked her over, something that made Alex very uneasy, "So—you're one of them too?"

"Excuse me?"

He sighed and look quickly to the streets, making sure no one was there, "You know – a vampire."

Every nerve in her body froze as he stated this so casually, as if it wasn't unnatural.

He chuckled a little, "Yeah, I'm not stupid miss. I got a pretty good look at his teeth."

She regained herself quickly, "Yes, I imagine you would, seeing how he was screaming in pain. You know – when you stabbed him." She said coldly.

Mathew shuffled his feet, "Look, I was in shock ok? I didn't really expect my father to show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night."

"Well I apologize, but daylight wasn't exactly convenient." She said in the same tone as before.

"Is he—alright?" he asked timidly, most likely the reason he had come in the first place.

"He'll be fine, now is there anything else?" she was eager to get rid of him.

"Can I speak to him?"

"Absolutely not!" she shouted sharply, not caring now if anyone heard her. All she wanted was to be rid of this pest before Jack decided to head out. She didn't feel like explaining this to Jack, it was bad enough she had to lie about how John had injured himself in the first place (slipping and falling on a silver post).

He recoiled from her quickly, losing his balance on a step and stumbling a bit.

She was breathing heavily when the door opened.

Terrified that she had been caught, she whirled around to see John standing there, looking awfully confused.

He looked from his son to Alex and back again.

"Mathew?" he asked, almost in disbelief that his son was standing on the doorstep to his home, without a weapon.

"Hello father," he answered hoarsely.

"John—" Alex started

He hushed her and started out the door on his crutch, never taking his eyes off of Mathew.

"John you really shouldn't be—"

He turned his head and looked at her with those eyes of his, and she sighed, "Alright, ten minutes, that's it."

She turned and hurried into the house, only to see Jack grabbing his coat.

Her mind raced for a way to stall him as he looked up and gave her a quick smile.

She rushed towards him and stopped him, placing a hand on his arm, "Jack, why do you have to go out tonight? Stay here, with me." She looked up at him innocently.

He paused midway through pulling his coat on and eyed her, "What's gotten into you?" he asked suspiciously.

She didn't care, as long as she stalled him long enough for Mathew to leave. She ran a finder down his arm gently, "It's just that, if you leave I'll be all by myself in this big, empty house."

"John's here," he answered, she could have sworn there was a bit of hostility in his voice.

She shrugged, "I'd much rather you stay here,"

He paused for a moment, and she watched his black eyes for any hint of doubt, but they only stared back at her as they always did.

He smiled and slid off his coat, "Alright then, since you insist."

She smiled back, relieved that she had detoured him from the front door, and thus the little reunion that was taking place outside.

Ж

Alex was sitting by the fire when John entered the library an hour later. She looked up momentarily when he sat beside her on the couch. For a moment he didn't say anything, only watching the fire's flames flicker softly. Alex half-hoped that he wouldn't say thank you, she didn't think she could take that kind of gratitude.

He started to speak but she shushed him, "Don't say anything." Her eyes never left the orange-red glow of the fire, and the reflections it cast onto the marble hearth.

Surprisingly, he didn't arguer with her. What was even more surprising was when he gently brushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

She started a little at the contact and looked at him, puzzled. He only smiled and turned back to the fire, an arm resting on the backrest behind her.

She didn't ask him to explain himself, and for some reason, when she looked back as John, she smiled in spite of herself.