Athenodora walked out of Caius' shower and let her curls down from a high bun, shaking them out and allowing them to arrange like a wild mane of gold down her slender, perfect back. The mirror reflected her face, which she was pleased with, and her bare torso. She was beautiful and proud. There was no other vampire that rivaled her, and her beauty had been the exact reason Caius had brought her back to Volterra with him so many years ago. With Dejanna currently out of the castle, she would be the center of attention again, and this too, pleased her.

The past week had been annoying, but short-lived compared to other 'visits'. She'd been used to being ignored for years at a time, and she was so very tired of knowing that when Caius was being particularly...rough, in the bed, it was because he was resenting her for not being Dejanna. She liked it when he was that unhinged in bed, but it wasn't for her. That stung. So, she pulled out a bottle of Caius' favorite Greek perfume that she kept stashed in his bathroom and spritzed the tiniest amount into the air, wafting through it on her way into his chambers.

Her jaw tightened just the slightest bit as she spied Caius sitting in a chair, staring into the empty fireplace, his fingers digging into the chair arms so violently that she could see the threads straining not to rip. Instead of letting it bother her, she swans over to him, standing right behind him, and leans to wrap her arm around his chest and nuzzle her face into his neck. Her fingers delicately trace down his chest, attempting to soothe his temper. When he doesn't respond to her touch, she presses her lips to where his pulse would be, had he been human.

"She's fine, Caius," she mumbles against his skin. "She's safe. Stop worrying about her for a little while."

Caius remains still as a statue, but his voice is cold and deliberate as he grinds out each syllable. "Do not pretend that this was not your doing."

Athenodora's fingers still momentarily before she hums and stands up straight and walks around to face him. "She was sitting in her rooms feeling sorry for herself. You didn't want anything to do with her. Why not let her go back to her nuns?"

"Because I said no!" He snaps, launching himself to his feet and snarling at her. "Because she could expose us! How do we explain to the human media why an entire convent was levelled?"

"Oh," she says with fake surprise. "Who knew you were so concerned about a few nuns?"

The air crackled between them, animosity and lust. The beads of water still wet her naked body, and the aroma of the perfume gently assaulted his nose, begging him to calm down. He didn't want to calm down, though. He wanted to rage and to rip off his wife's head as if she were the lower guard.

"I should drag her back now and make her watch Jane's punishment."

"That'll surely do the trick in making her hate you. Do it, sounds like it'd work out in my favor." She takes a step forward, pressing her body into his and tracing her lips over his ear, sliding her arm up his front once again. "After all, I'm the one who's going to stick around."

Caius catches her wrist, taking a step away from her and peering down with cold intent. "You will never amount to her." He almost missed the look of hurt and betrayal in Athenodora's eyes. The genuine love she felt for him shattering into a million pieces. All her beauty, all her confidence, her cunning, it wasn't enough. "Get out," he says with finality.

And she didn't protest.

~~/~~

Dean was on her knees in the garden, picking the weeds from the soil once again. It was amazing how fast they grow, and that nobody had touched them since she'd been gone. It was busy work, and she tried hard not to let her mind get away from her.

"Fancy seeing you here," he says in greeting. Dean smiles back at him, never pausing in her work.

Dean's fingers rip at the weeds, remembering Gabriel's bright smile. It was impossible to not remember him while she did the same exact chore they'd done together the last time she'd seen him smiling so widely. She'd been a fool to volunteer.

"Sister Mary Constance is mad at me," she explains, grimacing at the dirt under her nails.

"Isn't she usually?" He teases and gently knocks his shoulder into hers.

Dean scoffs through a laugh, the tears gathering in her eyes. Her hands still, dirt and wet soil coating her pale hands. She'd woken up today in a weepy mood, and missing her friend. Her chest hurt unbearably after her dream of Caius, and her first instinct was to run and tell her friend about it. But he wasn't here. And he never would be again.

Dean finally gave in and doubled over, gripping her skirt and apron into tight fists. It was a mistake to come here, where every brick and tree and smiling face was a reminder of Gabriel. She should have gone straight to the Vatican. What was she doing here, anyway? Her head wasn't clearing as she hoped, and she was more miserable than ever. And that damned aching wouldn't go away!

With her temper catching, she stands up and rips off her apron, tears the white handkerchief from her hair, and throws them down. She couldn't stand it. She needed something, anything, to occupy her that wasn't so painful.

"Just don't forget about me in that brave new world outside the gates, eh?" Gabriel jokes, breaking the tension easily.

She would never forget him. Especially now that that world had taken his life from him. She went to the library.

~~/~~

The library was massive. It could have been an entire castle all on it's own. There were three floors of books, most of them didn't even have titles on their spines. Old tomes, and new books, both fiction and nonfiction, though mostly they were nonfiction. There was just about anything a young girl could want to read in here. The carpet was warmly colored, with wooden accented walls and golden light fixtures. There was an unlit fireplace that resembled a yawning animal's mouth.

Plush chairs and a reading table with a green shaded lamp upon it made the room as cozy as possible for prospective readers. Dean turned around and around, admiring the sight that she'd never seen before.

"This is becoming quite troublesome," Caius said from behind her. Dean whipped around, frightened from his sudden appearance. Confusion creased her brows as she took him in, and then fear. Had he come for her? She glances around again, realizing this was not the convent library. Had she fallen asleep again?

Caius stayed where he was, still miffed from the insolence of Athenodora. But he watched Dean as she processed what was happening, as she realized that she was in fact dreaming, and decided the wasn't a threat. He watched the calm settle her, and she embraced that irrational sense of safety she got whenever she was near him. He caught the subtle coil of affection tightening his chest, in awe with her existence.

"You've interrupted me in the middle of a meeting," Caius continued, keeping his voice as closed off as he could manage. He wanted her to speak. To tell him how far away they were from her inevitable end. Was it inevitable, though? That kernel of hope had only festered, and it terrified him.

Dean ran her hands through her dark hair, easing the tension on her scalp momentarily as she though of something to say. "Then go back and leave me alone." Her words were harsh, but her tone of voice indicated that she couldn't care less about what he did or didn't do. As if he were inconveniencing her. She had no idea that this was real and happening.

He could do anything he wanted in this dream and she'd never suspect him. He could take her into his arms and kiss her, as he longed to do, and she'd think she made it up. She'd wake up flustered and wondering what got into her. He could manipulate her into coming back. Make her miss him so much that she couldn't stand to be away for another day. The monster inside of him begged him to do all of these things.

But he cleared his throat and did something he'd very rarely ever done. "I should like to stay...if it pleases you."

For a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no. That she would repeat her wish for him to go, and though he had no idea how he would accomplish that, he'd make it happen. So when she gave him a wobbly smile and nodded her head to the chair, it caught him by relief and surprise.

"You can help me look something up."

He settled down into the chair as she began pacing the shelves and pulling out book after book, reading the title, and putting them back. Though the words were unintelligible in her dream, it was her dream. And while the library of her mind wouldn't have any answers for her, Caius was here, and it unsettled her how much her body had reacted to him. Her aching went away, and was replaced with content. She needed to keep her attention elsewhere, or the dream might take on a very different tone.

A blush painted her cheeks, and Caius found his fingers itching to paint it. He had no idea what she was thinking, but her eyes kept darting in his direction. He'd never wanted to know something so badly. When Dean pulled out a book with a clearly written title, she nearly dropped it in shock.

The book was thin, only a couple hundred pages long, with a royal blue felt cover, trimmed in a mossy green thread. The title was written in golden plating, all capital letters and arranged clearly.

DEJANNA 1910

She opened the book, curiosity gripping her. There was a bright light, and the color seemed to leach from the room as two figures solidified before her, pure white and embraced in each others arms. It was Caius and herself, though she looked different.

She wore a long sleeved dress, with a squared neckline and off the shoulder sleeves. The dress was long and flowing, but not very wide, appropriate for the wealthy ladies of the early 1900's. Her hair was done up in a curled, complicated coiffure, a large brimmed hat with a feather atop her head. Caius was holding her closely, spinning her to music she could faintly hear. A lilting cello, a low viola, a song that she swore she knew but couldn't remember ever hearing.

The memory of Caius pulled the memory Dean in close. He looked so lost in the moment, not a thought in his brain except how much he loved the woman in his arms. "Happy birthday, Dejanna." And then he pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss that had her hands up in his hair in an instant, clinging to him as if he were a lifeline.

But then her dress caught on fire, and she shrieked, pulling away from him to bat at the flame. But the fire burned brighter and higher, and Caius was screaming now along with her. Desperately calling for help. A human man rushed in with water, but it did nothing. Aro, Marcus, Athenodora, and even Sulpicia were there in an instant, watching as she died in Caius' arms, burning until the fire fizzled out and there was nothing left but ashes.

Dean snapped the book closed, the images dying away as suddenly as they'd appeared. She looked up at Caius, their eyes locking, and he looked like he'd drawn into himself. The trauma in that small scene had him still as a statue, unblinking, and not registering that she was there, breathing.

Why had her mind conjured such images? Was it a warning? She hadn't even known her own brain could come up with something so grotesque. Her hands trembled as the book disappeared like it'd never been there. Looking at the vampire across from her, she wanted to comfort him. But he stood up and brushed off his clothing, as if the ashes were still there on his person.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Asked Caius with steel in his crimson eyes. His throat felt tight, every muscle coiled and ready to destroy something.

"I...I don't-"

"Then release me from this infernal dream."