A/N: This chapter sat forever on my flash drive but I just couldn't bring myself to work on it. I just didn't know how I wanted Gwen to turn out and this is the start of a turning point in her personaltiy. I finally decided and so I started typing.

The songs that helped set this chapter's mood:

Sound the Bugle - Bryan Adams

You Found Me - The Fray

For Heaven's Sake - Thriving Ivory

and the entire 14 Shades of Grey album by Staind

Vespertine

Chapter 4:

Home

Gwen POV

I remember the first few moments of my new life, crystal clear as the if they were just a few moments ago and not 15 years. It was the night of my 16th birthday, my sweet sixteen, and it was bitterly cold in Denver. I had just gotten into a fight with my mother over me wanting to skip the cheesy family party and go out with my friends and she had told me in no uncertain terms that all my childish stunts and my ungrateful attitude weren't welcome in her home. Like the spoiled brat I was I packed a bag and got out, walking aimlessly - anywhere away from my mother and her unwanted concern and stupid rules.

It was the last time I ever saw my mother.

I don't even remember what I was thinking then; the memories are blurred and tattered around the edges, like an old photograph. I didn't have a plan, I didn't know where I was going to go. I just wanted to get out, get away and be the adult I knew I could be. Teenaged wishful thinking.

Garet probably stalked me for several blocks, at least. My human self didn't notice anything, and Garet refuses to discuss my transformation; he adores me, I know, but I also know he regrets taking my life away from me. He will always mourn the person I could have been in his own quiet way. I dimly remember being scared of the stocky man with the menacing eyes, and trying to run. And then, pain. There are no words to describe the feeling of death; terrible, terrible pain suffocating you, pulling you under as you feel your life leave, draining at the teeth of a predator.

What Garet will tell me is that he saw something that night. Something in the look in my eyes and the way I struggled against his stone grasp that made him stop before I died. He had an epiphany that night, I think; he saw a just-turned-16-year-old girl dying at his hand, and instead of my brown hair and brown eyes he saw freckles and green eyes, long braided red hair and a gap-toothed smile.

I don't remember anything after that for a long, long while. I struggled in the sea of agony, every second seeming years. When I surfaced, I was alone and scared. Scared of my surroundings, scared of not knowing what happened and terrified of my new self. And then Garet was there, no longer a thing of nightmares, not something to be scared of, but suddenly the center of my world; teaching me everything I needed and being there to rein in the terrifying extremes of my nature. My first hunt taught me that he was the wiser of us, and although not the stronger - not then - he was the one to defer to. He guided me, steering me away from a reckless death and putting me on the path to some semblance of control. Thanks to him, I learned to monitor my raging hunger, learn my limits. He showed me how to choose my victims and mask my kills and above all he showed me I could still be someone resembling my human self. He showed me I could still be Gwendolyn Evelyn Matthews and not just some mindless thing of evil driven by baser instincts.

And now he was gone.

The past 15 years of my life, I'd never spent more than hours apart from my creator. I knew myself well enough to realize that my control was flimsy and I was impulsive. Garet was my safety net, always patiently hovering over me and keeping me in check. He was the one thing standing between me and It - the part of my nature that begged for the deaths and delighted in the fear. I hated that part of myself, and I relied on Garet to keep me from giving in.

And yet, he was gone.

I stood in Abigail's ramshackle living room surrounded by all the little familiarities that made up what my life was - the musty smell of the old books scattered everywhere, dust motes spinning like snowflakes in the dimly lit warm air, the old couch where I spent days straight reading, the kitchen-art studio where Abigail did watercolors - and wished I could cry. For the woman I could have been, for my mother who could be dead thinking I was murdered because she threw me out, for Garet's red headed love. For all the people who died so that I could continue living my charade of a life.

For the first time all day, I felt the telltale searing of my mouth and throat that signaled my stress and the hunger that followed it.

Abel shifted uncomfortably behind me and I tried to pull myself together. We needed to go. Abigail had seen something bad, something involving the book on fire. Visions like that rarely gripped her so violently. They were usually hazy, faint and apt to change and sometimes they never came to pass. That meant whatever was going to cause the fire was probably close, and coming closer. Memories of Abigail gripped by her vision and the way Garet left so quickly - like there was something coming that was to be avoided - broke through the despair and I was somewhat successful in gathering myself together. Living with talents that gave peeks into the future had its perks.

I closed my eyes and drank in the feeling of this place one last time. I knew without a doubt I'd never be back, and that hurt.

I was concentrating on my surroundings so intently that I heard it a fraction of a second before it happened; a faint rustle, like bird wings. The wall of what was supposed to be the apartment's dining room shattered into little more than matchsticks and I spun, gripped by the instincts of the predator I was. My body moved on auto-pilot, a snarl bubbling in my throat and I shot forward to meet this threat that dared to step on the territory Garet, Abigail and I had claimed. Without thought, I was suddenly running past Abel and toward the now gaping hole in the wall. I could suddenly smell them and that fueled the rage. Gone was the pain of being alone, gone was my thirst. Suddenly I was just mad - how dare they come here?! - and now I had something to take it out on.

I heard faintly Abel swear through the red tide that filled my head and was caught about the waist by him as I passed, the force of my spring tumbling us forward. But he was fast on his feet and he hauled me up by main strength and suddenly we were through the lovely windows that Abigail had coveted and into an abandoned alleyway in a shower of broken glass. I kept to my feet only by the automatic adjustments of my brain; the abrupt absence of the anger left me feeling disoriented. Abel's arms left me and grabbed my wrist in a grip that would've crushed the bones of a human, pulling me along in a fast sprint that took us down the westward alley and away from my home.

I looked over my shoulder, even though I know I shouldn't. The tableau was taken in in one quick glance; a large group of our kind spilled through the ragged hole in the wall - a thought darted across my mind ((probably made by a talent)) - and they were starting to follow us, murder written on their faces and I felt the now-familiar ton of ice that was terror weighing heavily somewhere near my stomach as I saw him - Walker - staring after us in a rage, a blond man in neatly tailored clothing standing behind him, arms crossed calmly across his chest and his red eyes shining through his darkly tinted glasses.

And then, Abel pulled me around a corner and they were out of sight.

"Gwen." His voice was hard, but not at all strained by the pace he set. "We need to get out of here. Those... people are not to be messed with. We need help. Where can we go?"

I stumbled; he was faster than I was and with the speed we were going and the sudden turns he took overrode even my grace. My mind was a jumble of chaos; what just happened, who was that guy with Walker and what did he want, why would Walker risk such an all-out offense even at night, where was home now? Home...

Abel's sharp, demanding voice cut into my growing panic. "Gwen!" And he sounded like Garet just then and a tearless sob caught in my throat, reminding me of the thirst that still needed quenching and I sobbed again. We stopped abruptly and I stumbled again, falling to my knees as he let go. I couldn't imagine what I looked like then - shaking with grief and rage and confusion, and on my knees at the feet of a man I had met not a few hours before. My life, or what little I had of it, had fallen to pieces before my very eyes. My maker was gone, my home invaded and stolen from me and the man I had only an hour ago thought of as nothing more than a possible tryst was the only thing I had left that I even thought I could trust.

"Gwendolyn," I heard. He sighed it and it sounded sad. Suddenly he was beside me on the street - which I knew should feel hard and cold to me, but didn't - and his arms were around me. "Gwen," he said again and I realized I had been speaking out loud between the dry, almost painful cries. He didn't say it - "It'll be alright." - because he knew it probably wouldn't be. I shook my head and said the first thing that came to mind.

"I want to go home."

He shifted beside me, arms falling away from me. I almost whined at the loss. "We can't go back there, love. The Samlare-"

I shook my head, harder. "No, that's not home anymore." Was it ever really home?

He shifted again. "Where is home, Gwen?" He asked quietly.

I took a deep, unnecessary breath and let it out, not sure what to say.

Home was the first new snowfall of winter, Denver's streets slick and perfect for Sneaker Skating with the neighborhood kids. Home was my mother's house, painted a ridiculous pink, with ivy and honeysuckle growing wild over an old stone fence and mums growing in neat rows against the house and down the walk. Home was the smell of homemade cherry turnovers and mock fights with my little brother and splitting the last piece of cake - and giving him the bigger piece - because I really did love him.

Home didn't exist anymore, in any form. But Great Falls was no longer safe, and what other place did I know?

I worked up the nerve to open my eyes and turn to look at him, an answer at the ready, but said answer caught in my now blazing throat and my mouth almost fell open as I took him in.

Abel was indeed sitting on the ground with me, head turned toward me, legs loosely pulled up to his chest and splayed slightly with his elbows resting on his knees. His white hair was falling into his eyes - black, so he would need to kill as well soon - and he looked at me steadily with a mixture of concern, sadness and an aching knowing.

If he had looked attractive before, he was now beyond gorgeous.

I couldn't explain it, even if I wanted to, but that look on his face - the one that said he cared for my wellbeing - made him so much more... attractive. I swallowed the urge to blurt out something embarrassing - like "I love you" - and dropped my eyes to the ground. We were sitting on the step of someone's apartment building, in a populated area of town and a nasty feeling squeezed my chest. I turned to him again, panicked, and he cut off my question before I could even open my mouth.

"No one saw us, Gwen. I made sure of it." Abel now looked amused and I bristled, a mood swing to rival that of a newly-created vampire suddenly in effect. I beyond pissed at him now, for brushing off my valid concern so easily; I huffed and turned away from him childishly, getting to my feet and stalking away angrily.

A faint rustle of cloth and suddenly he was there, keeping pace with me easily. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I wouldn't have stopped if I thought someone might've seen us. Please don't be mad."

His tone was pained and I stopped, looking up at him warily, not sure if I wanted to be appeased. I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. He looked like he was, but... "Fine," I said abruptly.

"Good," he said with a smile. "Now, where are we headed? I suggest we don't stay here long. If the Samlare are here, that means we have to be on the move."

Samlare? I made a note to ask him about that, after more immediate problems were taken care of. I turned to the southeast unerringly, an invisible beacon calling me. "Denver."

He nodded. "Denver it is. However, I suggest we dine before we travel. I'm not sure about you, but I haven't hunted for quite some time and I could certainly use it."

I made a face; I had forgotten for a moment. But now that he mentioned it I was in the stage of near crippling pain that preceded one of my 'mistakes'. I would need to hunt soon, and all the better if Abel were there. I didn't know how he hunted, but he was bound to have enough restraint to keep an eye on me. But I'd have to tell him.

"Um, Abel?"

"Hmm?"

I gnawed on my lip furiously. "Um... We could hunt. But, I need to ask you a favor."

He nodded. "Anything you need."

I bit down too hard on my lip at that and winced as my venom stung the cut. To cover up my embarrassment, I said it all in a rush. "Well, I'm not exactly the most... in control... person when I hunt. I guess you could say I need a babysitter. I tend to get a little... over-enthusiastic." Those were Abigail's words. I looked up, expecting a whole range of emotions - disgust, pity, anger, confusion. I wasn't expecting what he gave.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you. You could say your creator warned me of something like this." He winked as me and walked away, slow enough I could catch up after I snapped out of my surprise and relief. We walked more or less side-by-side, but he followed my lead. Garet, Abigail and I hunted in different spots around the city, never in the same place and never near the center of town. The outskirts and suburbs were safer for us, it was much more likely for animal attacks to occur closer to the wide open spaces. Sometimes we ranged farther outwards, to towns several hundred miles away. Walker wasn't so careful with his followers, and often stirred up trouble with the amount of murders they created and so we had to be more careful.

But, since we were leaving anyway, it wouldn't matter how much trouble we created, as long as no one figured out what we were. No need to get Them involved.

So, I led Abel to one of the seedier parts of town, where street lights had a tendency to flicker and go out, and no one much cared. There were several bars side-by-side one each of the streets and the rest of the buildings hosted a range of low-level businesses and apartments in worse repair than the place I had been staying. My family stayed away from this place because there was already enough crime here to cause grief.

"I don't know your preference, but we'll have to hunt here if you want to do it in the city."

Abel shrugged. "I don't much care. You learn to not be picky when all you get are lost campers."

I nodded, already mesmerized by the smell of so much human around me. It hadn't been long since I'd last killed, but with everything going on, I was parched. A large man stumbled down the street toward us and I tensed, already growling. Abel laid a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Gwen... Not out here in the open."

I growled louder, feeling my mouth fill with the sweet-bitter of venom, and my instincts demanded at the top of their lungs for me to strike, God damn it!

I was vaguely aware of Abel saying something, but I was too far gone. My vision narrowed to a tunnel focused on my prey and I took a step forward, then another. And suddenly I was on my target, snapping his neck in one quick movement and latching onto his throat. Blood, warm and wet, slid down my own throat and a sweet warmth spread from my stomach to the rest of me as I greedily drank my fill, the man slowly growing cooler in my grasp.

When I came back to myself, I was embarrassingly aware of Abel standing over me. We were tucked away in a deep doorway of an empty building. He must've hauled us here, because I didn't remember getting up... I dropped the drunkard, and looked up sheepishly, suddenly wishing I could melt into the ground. His expression was a mixture of disapproval and amusement.

He sighed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other propped on his hip. "You weren't kidding when you said you needed looking after. Come on, throw him in there and I'll go get one for me. Do you need another?"

"No," I chewed on my lip. "That one was enough. Go get yours and I'll take care of this one." Desperate to escape the situation, I jumped up and easily moved my victim into the darkened building, taking care to tear out the bite marks and disguise my meal.

When I was done, I went out to the street and sat on the curb half a block away, washing my hands in a puddle and waiting for Abel to finish and return. I knew it should have disturbed me, the way we talked of humans like they were nothing but a meal and not people, but it didn't. After all, they were to us what cows were to them. But for some reason it bothered me that I didn't care, that I couldn't really envision him as a person. The man I had killed had family somewhere, waiting for him to come home. And he never would. He could have children who would never see their father, just like my mother would never see me again. He had a life and I had taken it away from him. For what? What was I going to do now? Why had I taken his life to keep my own going? I had no plan, no idea what was in store for me. I didn't know what Abel and I were going to do in the coming days; we were running, but from what? Something that didn't want us too badly, or they could've caught up with us by now.

I brooded on this, dangling my fingers in the dirty water of the puddle at my feet until Abel emerged from the shadows, his eyes now a brilliant red that glowed faintly in the dark.

"Let's go."

I nodded and stood, the uneasy feeling staying with me as I followed Abel out of Great Falls.