Disclaimer: Still don't own Degrassi.

Fishy

A quick glance through one of Saraiah's oldest books, the one holding the most information about various vampire families throughout the world, offered her a glimmer of satisfaction. Crisanto, meaning "golden flower," was indeed the name of a European family. However, the family had been wiped out since the 1500s, when most of its members had been tried by humans on the charge of participation in witchcraft, or simply disposed of, presumably bloodily, when suspected of demonic possession. Saraiah shivered at the thought. Humans sometimes perturbed her even more than The Cross did.

An immortal survivor of that travesty? The single and secret heir of that bloodline? How could it be possible that a Crisanto stood (lay – Saraiah's mouth twitched) before her today, five-hundred years after its extinction?

The thought of Mr. Crisanto's limp body sprawled on the floor on the other side of the room briefly tugged at Saraiah's heart. She wandered over and gazed down at him. He seemed much more peaceful than when he had been knocked out by Declan. Saraiah preferred to play gentle, when it was at all possible. And she had no intention of hurting this mysterious stranger. Still, there were too many unknowns for her to ignore, too many questions for her to await all the answers to emerge from his own mouth. That's why she had slipped that Jamaican dogwood in with his tea, smothered in rosemary, mint, and cinnamon to cover the bitter fish taste and the unabashed deceit that she now partially regretted.

Noticing a slight quiver in Eli's body, Saraiah reached down and wrapped the curtains tight around him. No doubt he was beginning to be affected by the dwindling fire. A spark still persisted where Saraiah had thrown the tea, so she placed another log on and stoked it briefly until it caught. "There," she murmured. "That should warm you up, little one."

She crossed to another bookshelf and pored through the titles for the one she was looking for. Rogues, it was called. She must have misplaced it, as it wasn't with the R's as it should have been. "Strange," she said to herself. "I haven't looked at that thing for months." Hearing a cooing at the window, Saraiah went over to let her favourite pigeon in from the cold and the fog. The pink and white-breasted bird hopped up her arm and nibbled her ear in thanks. "Do you know where my book is, Dinah?" Saraiah asked in between giggles. She put her hand up on her shoulder for Dinah to hop on to, and began examining other bookshelves for Rogues.

The book contained a series of legends, each on a different rogue vampire who had abandoned his family for political reasons. It had been a favourite of Saraiah's, considering her past obsession with Declan, and she had practically memorized a few of the legends, fantasizing that one of them might be him. She also fancied that perhaps one day she would be the subject of such a book, that she might recover the long-lost honour for female vampires by proving herself a heroine of her race.

And now, she thought, maybe one of those vampires was Eli. He could have left his own family and adopted the extinct Crisanto name for some particular reason. Sighing, she pulled a different book of the shelf, deciding to pursue that question instead. Why might he have adopted the name in the case that he wasn't an actual family member?

This book gave detailed history and definition of different names. Flipping through to the C's, Saraiah quickly learned a number of different things about the name, some making sense, while others were contradictory. The "golden flower" referred to by the name was the Chrysanthemum. It stood for both honesty and nobility. Saraiah snickered. So much for honest, at least as of yet. Then she chided herself, glancing over at her sweet-faced ward. He wasn't a complete liar. He had told her his name, after all...

Saraiah shivered when she read that Chrysanthemums could also signal death. Then she chided herself once more as Dinah fluttered off to investigate their house-guest from a perch on the sofa's arm. "A bird in the house means death in the house" was an old superstition that Saraiah's friendship with various winged creatures denied. And, it was a superstition she only mocked since her parents' death. To her, a friend like Dinah signified life. So there was no reason to assume a connection with Crisanto and death.

Unless, of course, by some strange twist to her understanding of life, Eli was actually dead. Dead and reborn? Or risen from the dead? Or, if immortal, perhaps he considered himself dead, in that to live forever is to be dead to all other beings?

Saraiah's heart sank as she read another tidbit of information. She hadn't realized until this moment how set was her heart on getting to know Eli Crisanto on a more intimate level. In some lore, the Chrysanthemum signified homosexuality. Could that be a reason for him to adopt the name? Had he left his family in order that he might pursue his true passions in life and not be severely punished (i.e. killed) for it? If so, Saraiah could easily understand. But she would be extremely disappoined if that was the case.

She set the book back in its place and settled on the couch beside Dinah, who pecked her a little to give her opinion on the situation. "I know, Dinah," Saraiah replied. "A lot of fishy stuff is going on tonight." Her mind returned to the missing book, then flipped to Declan's strange – no, not strange, but extremely irritating – behaviour, and finally, to Eli. He had stopped shivering now, and she smiled and closed her eyes in an odd contentedness. Why should she feel so safe and happy at this moment that so much which she couldn't explain was overtaking her? With the warmth of the fire, and her foot, which was hanging off the sofa, just softly touching Eli's leg through the blanket, she now felt herself drifting off. It would, after all, be rude to just sit there and stare at her guest while he himself was obliged to wander in dreamland...