A/N: Howdy everyone! Been awhile since I last updated, so I'm sorry about that. I would like to thank all of you who have stuck around and supported me through this continuing adventure. You have made me smile and laugh and dream big.

There isn't much mention of the boys in this chapter. It's more of a background giving one and it's not very long. Please bear with me as I am trying to juggle many projects at once.

Other than that, please enjoy the following update.

OOOOOOOOO

Iona rolled over onto her stomach when her alarm clock went off, letting out a small groan onto her pillow. She slapped the clock off the bedside table and allowed herself a moment to enjoy the silence of the house before tossing her legs over the side of the bed. The gypsy dancer turned her gaze towards her door when she heard Roma limp past, heading for the bathroom. She rose to her feet and moved over to the window, lifting the sheer curtains and peering out into the sunlight of the new morning.

The smell of her grandmother's breakfast floated through the floorboards, earning a growl from deep within the girl's stomach. She clamped a hand over her stomach and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to keep her mouth shut when her fingers found tangles. The unmistakable sound of Roma cursing after the toilet flushed met her ears and finally drew her out of her bedroom.

"Roma?" she asked, knocking on the door to the bathroom. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," Roma called back, but she could tell that he was speaking through his teeth. "Perfectly fine…Go, eat breakfast, Iona. I'll be down…soon."

"Uh-huh, sure." Iona headed for the stairs. "If you're not downstairs in five minutes, I'm going to eat your breakfast and then send a search party."

She laughed lightly as Roma called out a muffled warning to not touch his plate. Heading into the kitchen, she wrapped her loose robe more tightly around herself and pressed a kiss to her grandmother's cheek.

"How'd you sleep, Grandmother?" she asked, helping herself to the milk jug in the fridge.

"You know it's supposed to be me that voices that question, Child," Grandmother Ruby said, flipping some eggs in a large skillet. "However, I slept as well as a baby."

"So, not so great." Iona poured three glasses of the milk before stowing the jug back into the fridge. "Your arthritis is acting up again, isn't it?"

Grandmother Ruby hummed an affirmative.

"Grandmother, how long were you working at the loom yesterday while we were gone?" Iona asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, I started after you and Roma went out for the night. And I didn't think I should stop with three-fourths of the weaving done, so I was up for a while after you went to bed."

Iona groaned and pressed a hand over her face. "Grandmother! That's over six hours at the loom! No wonder you weren't able to sleep last night!" She moved forward. "Let me finish cooking breakfast."

Grandmother Ruby lifted her spatula and pointed it at Iona. "Making breakfast is my job, Child. You won't take it away from me until I become so invalid that it has to be given. Now, sit and wait to be fed. I'm not so old that I can't whoop your butt."

Iona threw a smile in her grandmother's direction and took her seat at the table. She could count the times that she had been spanked by her grandmother on one hand with some fingers still left over. Ruby was never one to get angry enough to physically attack someone, unless they messed with her family. Iona's eyes darkened as she remembered her grandmother dealing with her father's brother one night when Iona was just a small child.

"He wants his daughter back!" the man yelled, his eyes blurred by the haze of the alcohol that wafted off of him. "That bitch took her from him and hid her from him 'til she died. She's coming with me to – to her father's arms."

Grandmother Ruby glared up at him, standing her ground so that her entire body filled the same entranceway. "My granddaughter is going nowhere with you or him. I know what you are. What you both are. I know what you did to my daughter and other young girls like her. You will not take Iona into that life." She raised the heavy metal bat in her hands. "Now get off of my property or you're going to leave in a body-bag!"

Iona pressed her hand against her lips to stifle the cries that threatened to pour free as she peeked around the corner of the stairway. She saw her uncle straighten his spine and stumbled forward, holding his finger out.

"You dirty gypsy woman!" the man said. "That girl is his child and she will be returned to him! He has more right to her than you, old woman! She'll need someone to watch her and you – you're going to kick the bucket any day now…Where will that leave her?" He smiled drunkenly at Iona. "She's heading to his place either way…Why not let her go now?" He crooked his fingers at Iona. "Come on, Doll. Come with your favorite uncle and let's go see your daddy…"

Iona shook her head and remained where she was, clutching at a post of the stair's railing. The man at the door narrowed his eyes and let his hand clench into a fist which he brandished at her.

"Little Gypsy Bitch, get your ass over here and let's go see my brother!" he ordered in a voice that scared her.

Iona clung tighter to the post and shook her head.

Grandmother Ruby swung the bat at the man's head, missing only by a fraction of an inch. The man reeled back and stared at her with wide eyes.

"That was a warning swing," Ruby growled, pulling the bat back into a ready-to-swing pose. "The next time I swing this, your head is going to be splattered all over my flowers!" She narrowed her eyes. "Get off of my property and don't come back again or I will have you killed!"

The man glared at her, taking a step back. "This isn't over!"

"It had better be," Grandmother Ruby shot back. "I'll have a gun on me and if I even see your shadow, you're dead! And send a message to your brother from me: he won't take my granddaughter from me like he did my daughter, ever."

"Child," Grandmother Ruby's voice pulled Iona back to the present. "You would do better in life if you didn't dwell in the past or in a dream world."

Iona glanced at her grandmother and nodded, trying to push the memory back into the dark parts of her brain. She noticed that Roma had managed to get himself to the table, though he looked like he could have used more sleep.

Thank God, school's out for the summer, Iona thought, plucking her napkin up and placing it on her lap. Maybe he'll get some more sleep in before we leave for the night.

Roma glanced around the room as Grandmother Ruby sat at the head of the table. "Is Gage going to come by soon? Or later today?" he asked, looking at the two women with a lot of hope trying to be suppressed in his voice.

"He will come when he wants," Grandmother Ruby said, holding her hands out. "Say Grace this morning, Roma."

The three gypsies joined hands and Roma said a long prayer to thank God for the food and to offer them all protection that day. Iona's heartstrings were tugged when she heard him whisper something about healing his foot again so he could be normal, but said nothing. They all had the same wish, but knew that nothing would change unless there was a strong miracle straight from God. The three said "amen" and tucked into their meal.

OOOOOOOOO

Iona walked through the neighborhood with a bag thrown over her shoulder. Grandmother Ruby had asked for her to take the finished woven blanket to the kind woman that had ordered it. As Grandmother Ruby was still a little stiff from her long work at the loom and was working in her small herb garden with Roma, Iona had been enlisted to help deliver it. Her dark eyes roamed the streets, seeing very little of the weird tourists that flocked to the murder capitol during the summer nights. She had to remind herself that it was the night and its strangeness that brought the tourists out, not the quaint houses that lined the town.

They come to see what it's like living in a place that has the highest murder rate on this side of the planet, Iona thought to herself. There are four stores that sell "I Survived Santa Carla" shirts and other memorabilia. It's like there's a competition to see who can stay the longest in this place and stay alive at the same time.

Iona shook her head and flexed her grip on the bag's strap. The idea that people would want to see how long they could survive in her hometown was a bit stupid in her opinion. She knew that they had no right to be here –that they were just asking to be vampire chow and become another statistic that was added on the Missing Person's board that people commonly referred to as the "Death Scoreboard" under their breath. The locals knew that the influx of tourists during the summer was necessary for the local economy, but they also knew that the tourists being there provided the vampires another option for feedings. If they hadn't been so deeply rooted into the town, Iona knew that many of the older locals would have moved away a long time ago.

"If the people leave, the vampires are going to follow them," Grandmother Ruby had told her once. "The vampires go where their food is and no amount of running will keep them from eventually catching up."

Iona heard a dog barking as she turned down another street and glanced in the direction that it was coming from. A white dog was running around its yard, chasing a squirrel but its dark eyes turned to her as she walked past. She called out to it and it sat down, cocking his head to the side and forgot completely about the squirrel. Unconsciously, Iona rubbed her fingers over the cross at her neck.

There's always something so intelligent behind those eyes, she mused, hurrying her pace away from the dog. That dog knows more about the world than many people do.

The dog's bark faded away and Iona felt herself relax once more. She sang softly as she crossed through more streets and came upon the house of the woman the blanket was destined for. She opened the gate that she would have rather jumped over like she would have at a friend's place. Iona shifted the position of her bag and walked up the nicely trimmed yard to the front door. The young gypsy tried to keep her envy from showing on her face as she looked up at the house that cost more than she knew she was worth. Money had proven to mean nothing special to her and her small family anyway. It couldn't be taken with her to the grave and meant nothing up in Heaven.

A petite woman came to the door after Iona rang the doorbell once. She smiled brightly and smoothed down the sleeves of her silk shirt. "You must be Iona," the woman said, stepping out onto the front porch. "You look just as pretty as I imagined."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bleu," Iona said in kind, pulling the bag off her shoulder and reaching within. "My grandmother hopes that you will be pleased with this."

Iona passed her grandmother's work to the lady with a reverence that she treated all of her grandmother's work with. So much time and effort had been placed in those pieces and no matter how small they were, they deserved a sort of respect. Mrs. Bleu took it into her hands and unfolded a little bit of it. Iona felt a swell of pride in her chest as the woman's eyes widened upon seeing the work that Grandmother Ruby had completed. It was a look that she had seen many times before, but always looked for in the faces of the buyers whenever her grandmother took up such a job.

Mrs. Bleu moved her hand lightly over the fabric and looked once more at Iona. "It's absolutely beautiful, my dear! Much more than I even imagined! You must tell Ruby that this is the most gorgeous cloth that I have ever held."

"Yes, ma'am," Iona said, bowing her head slightly. "Grandmother will be happy to hear it."

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of money. "Please, take this for her then and let her know that I will be spreading the word of her skill to my circle of friends."

Iona nodded and watched the woman move back into the house. She turned her back on the door and counted the money that was placed in her hand. There was a problem with it that had her turning around and ringing the bell again.

"Yes?" Mrs. Bleu asked, opening the door once more.

"You gave me twenty dollars too much," Iona told her, holding out the extra twenty dollar bill. "Grandmother only asked for one hundred forty dollars…"

Mrs. Bleu's face lit up with her brilliantly white smile. "Oh, my dear, you are one of the most honest teenagers I have ever met." She waved her hand. "Iona, dear, you can keep that for yourself. Buy something nice and enjoy the sunlight. Such a kind dear, you are. I insist that you keep it." She retreated back inside her house. "Tell your grandmother that I said hi."

"I will. Thank you, Mrs. Bleu," Iona said, pocketing the extra money. "Have a nice day!"

She hurried across the yard and out the fancy white gate before letting her breath out. Her eyes scanned the street, noting that the Surf Nazis of the street were starting to emerge from their slumber to hit the beaches. In the light of day, she was not afraid of the Surf Nazis because they hadn't had their usual buckets of cheap beer and they treated her like she was a friend. At night, she made sure to stay as clear away from them as she did with the strange tourists. It kept both sides content and they wouldn't change that delicate balance.

"Iona!" someone called out as she headed down the street with the intention of heading to one of the stores near the beach. "Iona, what's up?"

The gypsy turned her head and saw a teen about the age of Roma putting another layer of wax on his board. "Hey Kyle!" she called back, leaning her arms against the low fence that surrounded his family's house. "The sky's up, kid."

"No shit," he said with a laugh. "What brings you to this hellhole?"

"Delivering something to a rich lady for my grandmother." She tipped her head to the side. "You hear from Terri recently?"
"Why should I have? He's up there in NYC with his rich, blonde heiress," Kyle shot back. "He doesn't care about keeping in contact with us." He tossed aside his wax stick. "Can't say I blame him either, with all that money falling in his lap."

"Uh-huh," Iona smiled and raked a hand through her ebony hair. "You going to catch a few waves before your mom gets on you to clean the garage again?"

"Shit, don't remind me. Terri's junk takes up so much space…Why should I have to clean up after him?" Kyle approached the fence with his board tucked under his arm. "Are you going to be dancing tonight?"

"Yep." Iona moved away from the fence as the boy moved onto the sidewalk. "And no, you can't come see me. I dance way past your curfew as your mom likes to point out, so no dance shows for you, honey." She ruffled his blond hair. "You're going to have to wait a couple more years."

Kyle swiped at her hand and fixed his hair a little. "It sucks being my age," he complained. "Mom's too clingy and keeps getting worse now that Terri's gone…I'm old enough to go to the beach alone at night." His blue eyes roamed over Iona's body. "And I don't think it's fair that I don't get to see you dance."

"You aren't missing much," Iona swore, lifting her shirt up a little to expose her stomach. "All I really do is this."

The gypsy concentrated and her stomach rolled under the stare of the teenager. She allowed him only a few seconds to see it before she dropped her shirt back into place. Kyle let out a low whistle and smiled broadly.

"Like I said, you aren't missing much," Iona told him.

"Tease," Kyle muttered, shaking his head. "You wanna come to the beach and catch some waves, Iona?"

"I've got some plans today, Kyle, and I'm running late to do some of them." Iona headed for the corner of the street and waved. "Tell everyone I said hi and good luck with the waves."

She didn't wait to see if Kyle would do anything else before hurrying down a street. Her feet were taking her somewhere that her mind hadn't fully decided on whether it should go there or not. Yet, she found herself standing in front of a house that she hadn't been to except for the night before. The little boy that she had saved was sitting on the steps to the front porch, staring at his feet.

"Hey," Iona called out, stopping just beyond his front lawn. "How's it going?"

Spooked, the kid lifted his gaze and was almost on his feet when he saw her. Relief spread across his face, lightening the bruises that still remained on his young flesh. He smiled and waved to her.

Iona laughed lightly and went over to his side, sitting on the step next to him. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh," the boy said, looking at her. "Dad never came home. Mom cried, but…she smiled too. Why didn't Dad come home?"

"Some people just stay out longer than others," Iona told him softly. "And sometimes people just don't come back home like they should. Do you miss him?"

The boy shook his head. "No. He hurt me. He hurt Mom. How could I miss him? How could Mom miss him so much when he hurt her again and again?"

Iona sighed softly. "Sometimes, people love so much that they will endure anything to keep that love alive. Your mother loved your father. That's why she married him. That's why she stayed through the abuse. Your mother has so much love in her heart that she thought she could save your father from his bitter hate."

"Maybe." The boy looked at her with a frown. "How do you know so much?"

"I'm an old soul." She bumped her elbow against his. "How do you like that game that that girl gave you? You have it beat yet?"

"No. The battery died before I could."

"Well, you're just going to have to get more batteries then." Iona reached into her pocket and held out the twenty dollar bill she'd been given. "Some batteries for you and some chocolate for your mom, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're going to be all right," Iona promised, giving the boy a one-armed hug. "I swear that you will."

OOOOOOOOO

A/N: Really enjoyed having different conversations going on in here. And if you caught the reference back to a character in the first story, then you are pretty intuitive. I would like to thank you all again for the support and I ask that you kindly leave a review in the little box below. Thanks a million guys! - Scarlet