I sit with my legs tucked under me on the couch and a huge smirk on my face. The peace and quiet around me never seems to dissolve, so it's easy to lose myself in thought every once in a while. I guess that's why Jack and I couldn't seem to keep our heads in the game. That, or we were both so winded up and tense, waiting to jump up and grip our stakes if needed. My real guardian work had started yesterday. I didn't have time like these to always sit back and relax. I always have to be on alert, which isn't really all that hard, and with Alexis here beside me, I needed to make sure she was safe if someone or something were to attack.

Even so, I keep one of my eyes steadily on the game in front of me. Looks to be a tie from my positions and Jack's. Jack Chang lifts his hand to make a move, and pushes his last pawn closer to my bishop.

"Your turn." I flit my eyes up at Jack and see a large grin start to form on his face. It doesn't trigger any anger whatsoever. He's my partner, the only other guardian I have. I've always been surprised by how the big family only had two guardians. Then again, there is a shortage on dhampir guardians. . .

I move my queen in front of his pawn, but it's not to where I can get it. Jack takes no time moving forward. . . . .

Right in front of my king.

"Checkmate," Jack says.

I really have nowhere to move. My bishops and pawns block all other ways out of the stupid place.

"Fine," I growl, "you win."

I scoop up the pieces that lay beside me - all of Jack's pawns and other pieces - and begin setting up for the next game.

"Can we play Go Fish after this?" Alexis asks, her big eyes staring up at me. I hesitate to telling her no, so instead I go another way.

"Maybe, sweetie," I pat her hand softly and she squeezes mine.

I really don't know what it is with Alexis. It was four days ago that I came here, and she already loved me. She always wanted to be beside me and help me with my dhampir duties. It's as if I have a shadow following me everywhere, no matter what.

"We can't go fishing in the pond or lake " Jack tells us, putting his king back in place.

I laugh and say, "Go Fish isn't, like, where you actually go fishing. It's a card game."

Jack grunts, "Never heard of it."

"The rules are pretty simple," I say.

"Play with Rosie and me and I can tell you the rules!" Alexis blurts out.

"We'll see," the other guardian says, which makes the edges of Alexis' mouth curl upwards. She jumps up from her spot on the floor by the couch and begins to dance around carelessly. Such a young soul with no worries.

"Ready?" Jack asks.

"Ready," I say, and start to move my pawn when the door opens.

I hear the pounding of feet against the marble-floored entrance and on the plush carpet of the living room. Two more sets of footsteps follow. I immediately jump up and grab the stake attached to my belt. I shove Alexis behind me and face whoever just came in.

Vivian.

And two other children.

I lower my weapon and shove it back in its place. Beside me, Jack stares at me with what I think is a bit of awe. Maybe he didn't expect someone like me to react so fast and swiftly. If he is impressed with me, he'd have a frickin' heart attack if he met Dimitri.

Vivian steps forward with a hard look on her. I don't know if she's happy, mad, sad, or none. She opens her mouth but doesn't say anything, which I find awkward and plain weird.

I take in the two children behind Vivian who I assume are her two other children.

The girl is about thirteen or fourteen, and has soft blonde hair that almost looks bleached from afar. The tan skin and lapis lazuli eyes make her look even more like her mother, but everything else about her screams "Self-conscious". Her entire face seems to be frowning; her eyes, her mouth, and her posture in general radiates sadness and anger.

The boy is a a great difference from the eldest girl. His dark red hair is almost brown in a way, making it look like newly polished hardwood, and his green eyes. . . it shakes me to my core that he has a slight resemble to Mason Ashford.

I recover quickly, shoving all thoughts of my dead friend in the back of my mind. I don't feel like crying or anything in front of everyone.

"Hi, Ms. Conta," I say.

"Please, Rose, call me Vivian," she tells me and I nod. "These are my other two children I told you about. Do you remember me talking about them, Rose?"

"Yes ma'am," I say.

"Well then," Vivian nods to Henry, "that's Henry." She puts her hand on the older girl's shoulder. "This is Wren."

"Hello." I wave my hand slightly.

Henry waves big and I try not to pay him any attention. Not with him looking so much like Mason. . .

Wren grunts and says, "since when did we start housing blood whor-"

"Wren!" Vivian stops her as soon as possible, a look of unbelief on her face. She looks up at me, ready to forgive for her daughter's rudeness. I raise a hand to stop her, and step closer to Wren.

"I'm Rose Hathaway." I tell her. "I'm your family's temporary guardian until your mother can find a permanent replacement to take care of your family."

"Turn around." Wren instructs me.

"What?"

"Turn around."

I turn around and feel Wren lift my ponytail. A few minutes pass before she drops my hair and sighs.

"I think of the two Molnija marks on the back of my neck, wondering what Wren thinks of them.

"No Promise mark." Wren points out. "You're still a novice."

"For a little while." I answer.

"Two words, Rose Hathaway," says Wren.

"Hm?" I say.

Wren steps closer to me so that we are only inches apart. She's shorter than me, reaching only to my chest. I don't let the fiery anger inside of me flare up; I won't get mad at a girl.

"Not impressed." Wren turns on her heel and storms off. As soon as she's gone, silence drops into the room. No one says anything. Instead, we all look at the place that Wren just left from.

"Rose," Vivian breaks the awkward silence, "I'm so sorry for my daughter's behavior."

"It's fine." I say.

"She doesn't mean to be offensive," says Vivian.

"Trust me, no offense is taken," I reassure her. I didn't really feel all that mad at Wren. What's it to me if some young, misled teenager says she's not impressed?

"I suppose this chess game is over." Jack says sullenly.

"I guess so." No one's in the mood to play another fun game of chess; not with what just happened. I start to walk towards the stairs, but stop when Henry steps forward.

His bright blue eyes sparkle up at me. "So you're going to be a guardian?"

"Yes."

Henry puffs out his chest, trying to act bigger and stronger. "I'm going to be a guardian too."

"Oh." Vivian looks down at her son, embarrassed.

I bend down and look at Henry. "It doesn't work that way, honey."

"Well, why not?" Henry asks.

I'm surprised that an eight year-old like Henry doesn't know about the difference between Moroi and dhampirs. Moroi don't become guardians.

I look up at Vivian and say, "I'll explain one day."

"Okay." Henry says, a little bummed out.

I don't look at Henry anymore, afraid that if I do, it'll spark unwanted memories and feelings inside of me. I glance at Jack, then Vivian, and walk to the stairs without looking back.

The whole time something stirs inside me. . .

I wait until I'm in my room to let the tears fall. Usually I wouldn't cry, but Henry's appearance had stirred that feeling that I always had when I thought about Mason.

Mason.

Is it fair that my charge's son looks my like my deceased best friend? Is it some cruel trick that my eyes are playing on me, or did I really just see a smaller version of poor Mason?

Get a hold of yourself, Rose. I remind myself, sniffing back the tears that came forward so easily.

Maybe I'm not crying just because of Mini-Mason. Maybe I'm crying because of Dimitri, because of the way he left with Tasha, the way he kissed me the night before he left. Maybe because I left Lissa, because Mason is dead and I was given the Molnija marks.

I don't bother getting up from my spot on the ground. Instead, I sit there and stroke the Molnija mars that I received from the killing of Isaiah and Elena. I had killed Mason's killers, the one that had snapped his neck so swiftly and gracefully. Was that something? I had avenged Mason and killed the two Strigoi that had held us captive and fed from Eddie.

No, that's not fair.

I lean against the wall and take deep, long breaths. I remind myself that it will be okay, that Mason isn't mad at me or sad because of his death. Maybe he's happy somewhere. Somewhere I know he'll be safe from the ugly hands of the Strigoi that had murdered him.

I don't know when, or how, but I soon drift off to sleep.

I wake up a few hours later and stand. The tears have long since dried, and I look in the mirror to see the wetness in my eyes. I dab at the edges of my eyes until I look fine again. I turn and look around my room, settling my eyes on the book on my bed. I pick up the paperback and walk out of my room, heading straight for the library.

I haven't talked to Julius Conta in two days. I had promised myself that I would never talk to him again, and I wouldn't. I just wanted to drop off the book and leave as fast as possible. It's strange though. Julius is never seen around the house, or with his aunt or cousins. I sometimes wonder if he's a long-dead ghost that came to haunt the Contas, but that can't be true seeing as I saw him living and breathing and all.

I slip into the room making sure that no one sees me walk in. I check each corner to make sure that Julius isn't hiding in one like he was last time. After that, I put the book back in place and begin to make my way to the door. . .

Only for it to be blocked by Julius Conta.

"Were you really going to leave without saying a 'hello, how do you do' to me?" He says, lifting an eyebrow.

"I thought you weren't here." I say.

Julius laughs and replies, "I'm almost always here."

"Good to know." I make a mental note to never come to the library again.

I stare at Julius, but not because he's handsome. He's strange to me, which is why I want to figure him out. He wears pants that would usually go with a suit, and a button-up white shirt that brings out his eyes really good.

"Did you finish it?" Julius nods towards the book in my hand. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against one of the book-cases.

"Um, yeah." I say, staring down at the Romeo and Juliet cover.

"Did you like it?"

"Maybe." I eye Julius with suspicion. How old is he anyway?

Julius comes closer to me and takes the book out of my hand. He flips through all the pages and starts reading the last. "I've always liked tragedies, Rosemarie."

The fact that he knows my full name and not my nickname kind of freaks me out.

"How do you know my full name?" I ask.

"Oh please," he says, "don't think Vivian hasn't talked about you. . . over and over again."

"Oh." I say.

"Ah, here it is." He says, tapping the page. He clears his throat and begins to recite, " For never was a story of more woe; than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

"Look, Julius." I say. "I have to go check out the perimeter soon, so can I leave?"

"Go if you wish, but I did want to give you another book." He says, looking up at me and winking. God, what a flirt. . .

I sigh. "I have plenty of books to read."

"The Technique at How to Kill a Strigoi isn't a real book." Julius says. "So don't say a title of a book that isn't real."

"Wasn't going to."

"Then here." Julius shuts the musty book and puts it on the demonic desk. He walks over to a stack of books and picks up all three. "Here you go."

I look at the three titles of the book. Still Star-Crossed, Hamlet, and Medea.

"Wow." I say. "You really do like tragedies."

"You'll enjoy them." He says.

I look up at him and shrug. "Whatever you say."

"Come back when you finish them."

"Oh, I'm not coming back." I blurt out, feeling a little bad that I said that. "If you want to see me, you can come out of the library."

"I'll take it into consideration."

"I bet you will." I turn and start to leave the room, but curiosity has the better of me. I turn to Julius and ask, "how old are you anyway?"

Julius smirks and answers, "I'm nineteen."

I nod and leave the room with the three books tucked under my arm. Julius is nineteen, just a year older than me. Well, I'm almost eighteen. I just wonder about one more thing; something even my curiosity can't ask.

Why had I come back to the library?

Because, truthfully, I know that it wasn't to drop off Romeo and Juliet.