Hey there... It's short, but it's something. I promise the next chapter will have some more bulk and some more development. I just got un-busy and I'm trying to get back to my other Fan fiction, as well as this one and potentially starting a new one. Reviews are welcome. Again, I'm sorry you waited so long for a dinky chapter. I sort of have to reintroduce myself to not only Black Blood Brothers, but also my own fan fiction.

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Alexandra was still in complete shock. She was staring at the item in her hand with a type a fascination that she had never felt with any item before. It fit in her had perfectly and gleamed in the limited amount of light she had in her apartment. She was so enamored with it that she forgot about poor Mimiko in the doorway. Mimiko, having held on to the item for a while in place of Alexandra, was not surprised to see the girl's fascination. It was built completely to her tastes, elegant and artistic while still a little rough around the edges.

"I can't accept this." Mimiko was taken by surprise at her words. She had not been expecting Alexandra to say anything, but what she said was also shocking as well.

"Sure you can." Mimiko urged on. "It's yours. When you went missing we searched your house and found this on your counter. They didn't think much of it and I said I'd hold on to it until you got back." Alexandra was excited, to say the least. The look of wonder changed to one of joy as she lept forward and hugged Mimiko.

"Thank you so much for bringing it back!" Her joy was hindered slightly as she never remembered seeing any box on her counter, and she wondered how on earth it had gotten there. She shook it off and thanked Mimiko one more time before shutting the door and taking the item with her. She was in the middle of painting her living room and her new toy had just given her an idea. She wanted a flowing design along the top of the walls right where it connected to the ceiling and the look of the designs on her gift were perfect.

After a few hours she heard a knock at the door. She set her paint brushes down, and made her way to the door, admiring her work with a slight smile before opening the door, and was surprised to see who was there.

"Hey, Cain. Can I help you?" He grunted in response, looking at her disheveled appearance. Her clothes were covered in paint and her hair a mess. She, not liking his judging eyes, spoke again.

"Cain? Did you need something?"

"I came to ask you a few questions." He seemed serious, as always. She never liked his no nonsense sort of behavior but it got the job done so she accepted it. He wasn't very fun to be around though.

"Go right ahead." She put her hand on her hip and waited patiently for his response.

"May I come in?" She really didn't want him in her house but figured if he had to come see her himself it must be important. She stepped aside and let him in. He made his way into the kitchen without so mush as glancing at her project, which irked her. She was proud of it and she wanted someone to compliment it. He sat down in a seat in the kitchen, and she sat on the counter across from him.

"What do you want to know?" He cleared his throat before speaking.

"From what I understand, you were abducted, beaten, and left for dead, correct?" She cringed at the coldness in his voice, as if her near-death experience was nothing to be concerned with. She nodded anyway, feeling chills run up and down her spine.

"Do you have any memory of the event?"

"No. I was in my room, then I was under a bridge, clinging to life by the skin of my teeth."

"I see." He seemed troubled by the answer, as if he expected her to remember something. Maybe he did. She was left for dead, so why would anyone bother wiping her memories? Perhaps they did not expect her to die like they had originally thought, or maybe they were taking some extra precautions in case things went wrong. Either way, they were dealing with something odd.

"Why are you questioning me? It was just an attack by some random vampires. No big deal."

"This isn't a normal attack. If they wanted you dead they could have just slit your throat then and there." She cringed again at his cold disposition. "You are alive with no memory because they wanted you to be."

That sent her right over the edge. Someone had targeted her specifically. That was the most unnerving thing she had ever heard. She was on someone's list, and she was no longer safe. She was a seventeen year old girl living on her own. There was no way she could truly defend herself from a couple of vampires that were hell bent on getting to her. She knew this, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and that scared her.

"You are a target, and need to be protected." She hardened at his words. Protected? Locked in a cage, restricted form the outside world? No, not again. She didn't want to feel like she was at the mercy of someone else ever again. The idea was unbearable. To have another control freak taking over her life was something she had fought hard to escape, and she had cared for said control freak. It would be even harder to deal with when it came to someone else...

"No. I refuse. I don't want to be locked up." Cain shook his head. He knew this would happen.

"I'll give you until tomorrow to come willingly. Please remember that this is for your own protection." With that, Cain showed himself out. Alexandra sat on the table, thinking through everything that had happened. She really was at the mercy of every vampire with more skill that the average human. Unfortunately it was now a big deal, because more than one was now trying to get at her.

"My own protection," she scoffed. "I don't want their help."

She got back to painting her walls, progressively getting more and excited that it was coming out as well as it was. Elegant lines draped the walls and formed beautiful pictures that she was proud to call her own. She added highlights and lowlights, making sure that everything popped just enough to draw attention without being too distracting.

Finally, it was done, and the thoughts of Cain and his oppressive behavior left her mind entirely. She rinsed off her brushes and proceeded to change out of her paint clothes. She was proud of her work, but she felt a pulling. She felt like something was missing. She felt like there was someone that she wanted to show, or someone's approval she was seeking. It didn't take her long to realize who that was.

Sighing heavily, she finished changing and made her way to the door, ready to go face the man with red hair, and ready to smile as she did so. She hated that it felt forced. She cared for Zelman, so why would she seem so upset about having to go see him? Maybe it was the distance that was making it hard? Or maybe it was the lack of distance for so long that made her so upset. She couldn't tell why she felt like she needed to see him, as well as why she felt she needed to get away. It was nerve wracking and difficult to think about. So while on her way to his home, she stopped thinking and just did whatever her body wanted.

It made her laugh that without even realizing it she had made a brief detour to get some ice cream.