Loxwood, England 1159 AD

It had been three months since Lila had vanished. Jane told Alec and Daniel to keep quiet. She would take care of them until Mother returned. She would come back soon. Until then it was better to stay quiet and avoid attention. She may be small, but she wasn't stupid. The villagers hated their family. If anyone found out, who knew what would happen?

But Lila didn't come back. Villagers knocked on the door begging for aide, for herbs to calm a fever, for a salve to stop the bleeding, for hope. Jane said Lila would be back soon and tried her best to help the villagers. Alec was the best at reading and there were books everywhere explaining what different plants did and so forth. Jane knew the woods well enough to get the supplies needed. They would make do. There was no reason to make more people not like them.

By the fourth month, the town priest knocked on the door. "I demand to know where Lila Sangnoir is," he bellowed in his thunderous voice. The Sangnoir children quickly slammed to the door. The priest, Father John, was the main reason may of the villagers despised them, even though they had done nothing to harm them. Jane, who had been rocking Daniel on her narrow hip, handed her baby brother to Alec, gathered her steal, and opened the door a couple inches. "My mother is away," Jane replied calmly through the small crack. "I will not be spoken to by a lowly girl. May I speak to your brother instead?" , the priest patronized. Cheeks flaming with anger. She was just as competent as her brother. It shouldn't matter that she was a girl. Alec placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her from retaliating or acting out. "As my older sister said,' My mother is away'".

"But she has been gone for four months now. Perhaps something has happened to her? Surely three young children can not take care of themselves?" the priest cooed. They were doing fine on their own. The books with stars all over seemed weird and strange at first, but Alec was figuring them out. There had been the occasional mishap, but nothing too terrible. Money and food was a struggle though. But people didn't trust children to help them.

"Step out from the door, children. I am a man of God. I would never hurt you," the priest smiled coldly, the emotion not quiet reaching his eyes. Jane didn't trust it, but opened the door another couple inches. Her sharp green eyes meeting the murky brown ones. "I merely wish to offer you aid, as a messenger of the great word and ministry," Father John offered.

The village had gathered in the church. It was the only place large enough to fit everyone. The priest was in a way the mayor of the village. He stood proud and regal at the communion rail, distanced from the crowd. "I am here to discuss and issue in our beloved village of Loxwood. Three, poor children have been abandoned by the terrible sinner Lila Sangnoir, formerly Lila Grey. They have raised in the ways of evil, sin, and Satan. But, because I have a merciful heart, wish to welcome them shelter and forgiveness for their transgressions," he proclaimed theatrically to the crowd.

A sole hand was raised. "If the Sangnoirs need shelter, we can take one of the children." It was the silversmith's wife, Gretchen. Jane remembered seeing her last year when her Mother helped her deliver her fifth child. She was their neighbor and one of the few people who had been kind to them without asking for a favor in return. But only one of the three could stay with her. Jane and Alec looked at each other and agreed without words. Daniel would go with her. He was only one and a half. He needed a warm, safe environment. Jane and Alec could take care of themselves as long as they had each other. Six years old and already grown up.

No one else was willing to help them. Even though their family had been the ones to set broken bones and heal even the nastiest of diseases. Many people in the church would be dead if it hadn't been for Lila. The priest smiled at his audience and said he and his wife would take care of them. The audience left smiling, saying how generous it was for Father John to take such evil children under his peaceful dove like wing. He truly was a saint. A pillar of their community. What would they do without them? It was a shame Lila was gone though. Who would help deliver their baby? My son's knee injury looks infected. My daughter won't stop coughing and has had trouble breathing. It was such an annoyance she wasn't around to help them.

The next couple years were the worst years of the twins life. These were the years that shaped them into the people and vampires they are today. Jane learned how much pain one person can inflict upon another and the power that came with it . Alec learned how to not feel the sting of a belt, slice of a knife, pounding of a fist. But to the villagers, Father John would forever be the saint who tried in vain to save their souls and delivered the town from witches. Until the day he was brutally and mysteriously murdered.

Volterra

Damien had no idea what had happened. He didn't remember falling asleep or going to bed. Vampires had perfect memories. He didn't remember why his throat was burning so much. He felt like a fire breathing dragon, only less cool. He didn't know what his head felt like a wild animal was trying to claw out of it. And he certainly didn't know why there a sharp, burning pain in his abdomen. There was an insistent ringing sound in his ears, like after hearing music that was too loud for too long. He didn't hear the door open and two figures walk in. "Marina, go find your father and continue studying with him," one of the voices ordered calmly, like talking to a baby animal. Damien did hear that. His eyes attempted to snap open, but one was swollen shut and the simple movement was sloppy and oddly tiring. The world was too bright and out of focus at the same time. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

Through blurry eyes, Aro appeared in his vision. Once Marina had left the room, the mask of calm evaporated. Now a murderous, yet gleeful shark like sneer replaced it. "You caused a lot of trouble last night," Aro cooed softly. The smile had yet to reach his eyes. Caius chuckled, "We need to make sure subject two doesn't cause any more trouble and learns to stay silent." Aro and Caius smiled at each other, like teenagers might look to each other when seeing a celebrity idol. Excitement. Joy. Wonder. "May I do the honors?" Caius almost begged. Crimson eyes pleading.

Damien felt a cold, stone hand clamp around his swollen aching jaw, keeping him from making any sound to alert others. Caius delicately pushed up the bottom hem of his shirt to reveal where Demetri had stitched him up. Caius scraped his claw like nails against the red, inflamed fresh wound, slicing away the threads. Damien's breathing became erratic and heartbeat quivering. He knew what Caius was thinking, all the things he planned to do to him, visions of blood and agony. Caius in an instant dug his index finger into the fresh wound forcefully, savouring the feeling of the boy's flesh melting away, blood gushing around his hand. The way the boy's muffled screams sounded. The sight of his eyes going wide, body quivering and trying in vain to fight back as Aro held him down. Caius slowly curled his finger, scraping the flesh with his finger nail, twisting and turning. It was amazing how much it felt like human flesh, except a sturdier, stronger material. He could feel the flesh beginning to heal again. Interesting. Caius enjoyed studying this specimen. Most humans would have not last as long as the boy had, and he was just getting started.

Damien screamed against the stone hand as his body was filled with a white hot, burning pain. Burning. Fire. Can't move or break free. His back arched and body seemed to crumple in on itself. He tried everything to fight back, to break free. His eyes stung as tears threatened to flee, like victims trapped in a burning building. But Damien was not going to give Caius the satisfaction of crying like a child. He felt Caius poke and prod his flesh sending another wave of agony through his body. Every time it seemed like his body was going to try to heal itself, it was ripped open again left to start all over. Each time drained more and more. His vision faded to red and hearing became static. The screams didn't even sound like they were his anymore. If it wasn't for the harsh vibrations ripping through his chest, he would have thought they belonged to someone else. Blood flowed freely over his hip and side until soaking his sheets with a dark cherry colour. It smelled just as red seeped on to his back, over his chest, trickled down his leg, coating everything in pain. This wasn't some clean cut job, like seen in movies or read in books. This was messy, sticky, and never seemed to end.

Caius scraped his insides, like cleaning out a jack-o-lantern. Damien felt blood gush up his throat. He tried to spit it out as it bubbled to his lips, but Aro's hand covered his mouth stopping him unknowingly. Choking on it, he couldn't breath. Panic and adrenaline ran on overdrive as his vision started to go black around the edges.

He couldn't take anymore. The limit had been far exceeded. He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear. He just couldn't. Damien just wanted it to STOP. STOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

SSSSMMMMAASSSHHH! Chink. Ching. delicate tinkling of shattered glass broke the silence. Aro spun around and froze. The mirror which sat beside the wooden closet lay shattered and yet magically untouched as the shards rained on to the stone floor. The few remaining surviving pieces that clung to the wooden from held a single face. Didyme. It was Aro's turn to start screaming.

New York

The three of them returned below to the sewer in a cloud of sadness, confusion and melancholy. Donovan had just said goodbye to the person he thought would always be with him forever. Jane was confused as to who the reaper like figure was. Alec felt like he had said goodbye too, but he didn't know to whom. He needed to learn who it was!

Returning to the room with bunk beds, Alec jumped on the top bunk before Jane could get the chance to. She settled for sitting next to Donovan and wrapping her small arms around his shoulders before resting her head on one of them. "Who was the person who took Moira?" Alec couldn't take the silence. "A cousin of sorts," Donovan said monotoned.

"Yes, but what is the person's name?" Alec persisted.

"It doesn't matter," Donovan replied.

"Yes, but I want to know," Alec argued.

"It doesn't matter," Donovan repeated.

"I need to know.I think that person was my blood sing-"

"Blood singer? That's a riot right there!" Donovan started chuckling to himself at a joke no one seemed to get. Seeing Alec's fallen face, Donovan sighed, "If my 'cousin of sorts' really was your fated, special, lover or whatever, then this wasn't you last meeting. Until then it DOESN"T MATTER." The answer didn't satisfy Alec, but he stopped arguing with Donovan and just hoped he was right.

A knock at the door interrupted the three of them. General Grigsby opened then door, standing with arms folded in front of her and face stony. "We received a message from the Old Pete and his cohorts. They wish to meet with us in Central Park in three nights time at midnight," was all she said before turning sharply and leaving them. She knew the twins would go, it wasn't a question. It was purely an alert to prepare for a potential confrontation and battle. They would need their strength. But they would also need their bags from where they originally stored them.

Jogging up behind her, Jane asked permission to retrieve the bags. It was granted, as long as one of the twins stayed behind as "insurance". Alec chose to stay behind, given that he was still greatly curious about how the entire operation worked. How could just a bunch of kids maintain an entire secret civilization just below the noses one of the biggest cities in the world, undetected for years? He was impressed. Adult vampires had trouble doing that, even with covens that were no bigger than five. Here he counted at least thirty-seven children of varying ages. He decided to tour around the underground compound until Jane and Donovan returned.

It had a been a while since Jane had seen this much snow. It didn't snow in Italy often. Sometimes she got lucky and was assigned to a place where it was a winter wonderland. Snow always made her giddy, which many people saw as odd. her entire life she had been compared to fire and flame. Yet she loved making snow angels and hearing the crunch of snow beneath her feet. The crisp air, the immaculate, pure surroundings, the peacefulness of it all. Well it was all peaceful, until a snowball pegged her in the back of the head. Jane whipped around, ready to attack her assailant, only to find Donovan molding another with his mischievous, Cheshire cat smile. Jane blocked the next one, shrieking before quickly making ammunition of her own. Donovan faked being shot when it pegged him in the chest, falling into the snow dramatically. Jane just smirked and took the opportunity to jump on top of him and shove snow down him shirt. Donovan begging her to stop, through a fit of laughter, quickly rolled over and pinned her to the snow, smiling triumphantly. Jane's own laughter ceased when she realized the intimate position the two of them were in. Donovan's eyes met hers. They reminded him of a red rose opening, the way the rich red swirled around her in her irises. She never noticed how much green was in his turquoise eyes as it swirled around with the sad blue and hugged the silver flecks. The way he cheeks flushed with the cold and how his skin was hard like a vampire's, yet soft like ...

Roses. Donovan's lips were soft like roses.