Created By

DeanCentricGal

Rate this Story

Embed

Skarlet leaned against one of the numerous granite benches located aimlessly around the lush garden of her Masters. Elijah amused himself by chasing birds around the small court yard, his beautiful light blond locks moving in the gentle breeze. Watching him, Skarlet couldn’t help but smile. She had kept Vincent’s existence secret, telling her son that his father was dead. At first, Elijah didn’t understand but after a while he grew to understand it, though he never mentioned anything to Lazlo or the others. If the man Skarlet loved did come back one day, he would have no part in raising their child, which was something Skarlet was going to make sure of. Vincent would only be able to watch from the sidelines as his son grew up, not knowing that his father was so close by.


Skarlet knew her Master was trying continuously to get word out to others in search of her lover and his nephew but every single one of them had returned with the same answer; they hadn’t seen him. Two years had seemed to whiz by and Skarlet had grown accustomed to living on her own with her child. The daily routines of searching the woods took less time with Elijah helping. His keen eyesight and crisp hearing was even more superb then Skarlet’s own. Her son may only be two, but she knew with his mixed blood he would be an excellent fighter. Skarlet had just started teaching Elijah the basics to hand to hand combat, not wanting to start him off to hard as he was only a boy.


As Elijah’s laughter filled the area around them, Skarlet pushed off the ground and stood up, dusting the grass from her backside. “Come on, Elijah.” She stated, giving her son a smile and holding out a hand to him. “Let’s go get something to snack on.”

As Elijah's small and slender fingers slipped into Skarlet's grasp, she encased his little hand with her own, starting toward their cozy cottage but only managing to actually take a few steps. Laszlo stood before her and Elijah, an envelope in his hand. As he placed it in her free hand and spoke, Skarlet froze, the hand gripping Elijah's tightening ever so slightly causing the young child to squirm. "Elijah, honey. Go back to the cottage, mommy will be there in a few minutes." Elijah, still curious but obeying his mother's orders, slipped from her grasp and ran all the way back to their small home to wait for his mother to start making his snack.

When Skarlet was sure Elijah was in the house safely, she returned her attention back to Laszlo. Her eyes darkened slightly, anger clouding her jugdement as she handed the letter back to him, not even bothering to read it. "That's nice." She commented, giving him a sour smile. "When he actually shows up, let me know. I have a few things I'd like to tell him." With those final words, she walked away, her hands slightly clenched. She didn't mean to snap at Laszlo, but the mere fact that Vincent was indeed alive pissed her off more so then him just running away from his duty as a father. Because being alive meant he was just ignoring her now.

As she made it to her little home, Skarlet's anger evaporated as she stepped inside, eyes falling on Elijah as he gathered supplies for his snack. "What are you doing?" Skarlet asked, a smile on her lips as she walked over to Elijah. He was holidng everything in his small little arms. The peanut butter jar, jelly jar, bread bag, a knife and a cup. Skarlet figured he wasn't able to get the juice out from the fridge because if he had been, he'd probably be dragging that behind him.
"Helping you." He commented, trying to lift everything up and place it on the table. Skarlet chuckled and walked around the small two person table to help him.
"Thank you." She stated as the young boy slide into the seat in front of his mom, his knees proping him up to watch her make his sandwich.
"Your welcome." He stated, about to stick one of his tiny fingers in the jelly jar only stopping when Skarlet raised an eyebrow at him. Giving his mother a sheepish smile, Elijah backed off from the jelly.

Giving Elijah his sandwich, Skarlet cleaned up the mess and then sat down opposite him while he ate, her eyes gazing out through the large window in which their table sat in front of. It illuminated the whole kitchen and kept it bright during the day. "Done." Elijah exclaimed, jumping from his seat and running to the sink where he dropped his plate off and then headed to the small living room off of the kitchen. Skarlet's gaze drifted to him and she watched him drag out one of his trunk full of toys to play with, but her mind was on other things. Mainly Vincent. She had always wondered why he had just up and left without an explination. She had always thought he was happy for them to have a child. Confusion and pain seeped through Skarlet's body like a sickening fungus but it was quickly killed and devoured by the flames of her anger and hatred towards the man she had loved.

His breath wavered as he pushed himself off the edge of the bed, his long hair had reached his waist in the two years he'd been gone. Thin hands slowly gathered it into a loose pony tail, using a thin dirty red ribbon he tied it back out of his hallow emasiated cheeks. His skin was as pale as freshly fallen snow and as thin and delicate as rice paper. He was breakable, not at all like before. His pale blue eyes were listless, devoid of any life that might have remaind in him, he was just a walking memory. He quietly made his way to the dresser, a round mirror reflected the crul image, mocking him, he hadn't looked into his own reflectiong for a long time, shunning the image that was a shadow of his former self.

The lady he was stay with had lent him her small box of make up, he dug through it and started to put on the layers of foundation, then the slight blush in a vain attempt to make himself somewhat presentable. When he was finished he pulled on the tatered pants, they hung off his thin frame, his host had cleaned them and sewn them up a bit for him. A long drawn out sigh escaped his lips before he left the room, tucking a small velvet bag into the pocket of his pants. He wore an old dress shirt that he'd attempt to make it look half decent on his frame.

The lady was one of Laszlo's oldest friends, he'd been told that if he ever needed help she was someone he could turn to. She greeted him in the front of the house and offered him a folded letter, but he'd refused to read. Tucking it away, out of sight. He climbed into the back of her car, his grace gone, washed away like so many other things about himself. She knew where he wanted to go, and it wasn't that far from where they were, they'd be there within minutes. He hardly spoke now, saving his words for her. he wasn't even sure if he could tell her he was sorry, he was sure sorry wasn't enough. He'd left, before their child had been born, a child he wanted to watch grow up. He was sure any explaination he gave her for why he left without saying anything wouldn't be enough. He knew that, he knew that anything he could say and most likly wouldn't say, would not change her mind about him. She probably hated him for what he did. He hated himself for it, he'd made that clear to himself. He had abandond feeding only a week after he'd left. Non of this was his choice, he'd only planned to be gone a week, not more then that. It had all gone wrong. He sank back into the seat, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realise they'd already arrived.

As a new scent arrived on her Master’s property, Skarlet’s head tilted to the side as she gazed over her shoulder lazily towards where the entrance to the mansion would be. Seconds passed and as Skarlet turned back to tell Elijah to stay put while she went to investigate, she noticed her sons gaze drawn to the same place. Smiling, Skarlet sighed. “You smell it too?” She asked him as she started to stand from the living room floor. “Well let’s clean up your toys and then we’ll go investigate. Okay?” Elijah’s eyes lighted up and Skarlet watched as he hurriedly put all his toys back inside the large leather bound trunk, seeming to radiate with excitement.

Skarlet knew it wasn’t often that a stranger came along to the mansion and Elijah hadn’t been born when the first party had taken place, nor did they rarely leave the grounds of the mansion so Skarlet wasn’t at all surprised at his excitement. “You know what he is right?” Skarlet asked Elijah. As he took his mothers offered hand the young boy nodded, his light blond locks swaying slightly with each gesture, his honey colored eyes seeming to glow.
“He’s like Gramma Jouline,” He replied, “a vampire.”
Skarlet gave him a curt nod; her eyes focused on the door as she opened it, letting Elijah go first before she followed behind him. “You must be careful though, darling. You are half of a vampire and he’s a full blood. He may not like you. Stay by my side at all times. Understand?”
“Yes, mother.” Elijah replied, skipping ahead of her.
Skarlet felt bad for keeping Elijah on a tight leash so to speak but he was a hybrid, half Vampire half Lycan and he’d never been around any others who were of the Supernatural race besides Laszlo, Jouline, and herself. Who knew how this stranger might act when he saw a young boy of mixed blood.

As Skarlet and Elijah approached the new comer, Elijah followed his mother’s orders by staying by her side, his child hand holding on to one of her pant legs. “Can I help you?” Skarlet asked as they neared the male waiting at the door. “Are you here for the party?” Skarlet figured he was by the way he was dressed. Fine clothes and a hint of cologne could be detected on him but it never hurt to ask. As Skarlet stopped a few feet away from the male, waiting for his answer, she answered Elijah’s unspoken question and lifted him into her arms, holding him easily.

Vincent hadn't left the car yet, he'd noticed the other men go up to the door and be invited in by the maid. Then he saw her, she greeted one of the men, a small boy in her arms. He hadn't fully comprehended all of this yet, another party. He carefully opened the car door and slid out. Pulling a false strength through his body as he stood, shutting the car door without making a sound. The woman who'd been kind enough to bring him here stay in the driver's seat, she knew about everything with Laszlo and she knew now was not a good time to say hi to an old friend. She pulled away and drove off, leaving Vincent standing at the end of the drive way, a few loose strands of black hair drifting into his face as the red ribbon threatened to come undone at any second and be blown away by the wind. Maybe she wouldn't recongise him, maybe that was a false hope. He tucked his thin hands into the pockets of his pants. He hadn't expected this, to be so over whelmed like this. He didn't want to face her, not after what he'd done. He wanted her to forgive him, though he highly doubted it would happen. He still longed for it, he'd missed her dearly.

As Skarlet waited patiently for the male to answer a breeze blew and a scent she thought she would never smell again hit her like a ton of concrete bricks. Turning her head slowly, Skarlet glanced behind her, her eyes spotting Vincent instantly. Surprise formed on her face. She wasn’t actually expecting him to come back. A longing she hadn’t known existed crept up from the deep depths of her body but it expired quickly as she shoved it back down. Turning her attention back to the male at the door, Skarlet offered him a smile. “Excuse me.” She stated, letting Elijah down back on the ground. “Elijah, sweetie, can you escort this man inside. Once you do go and find Gramma. Understand?” Elijah nodded, glancing back at the man and then back at his mother before turning and heading towards the male.
“This way, Sir,” Elijah mumbled, “follow me.” His head stayed down, eyes looking at the ground. His excitement was no longer animate as he pushed open the large wooden door with ease and led the vampire inside. Skarlet watched for a few more seconds before she turned her gaze once more back at Vincent.

Walking over to him, her eyes bore into him as if she could gain all her answers with just one look and be done with it. She didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to hear his voice, yet she knew she had too. There was no other way to obtaining the answers she needed. Stopping before him, Skarlet’s eyes lingered on his form, examining it slowly, her arms crossed over her chest. “Can I help you with something?” She asked, her voice normal but with an underlying edge to it. Her face was a mask, betraying nothing of how she was feeling. Her eyes were the only factor to that clue, they blazed with a dangerous anger.

Vincent watched as the boy escorted the other vampire into the mansion, the doors closing heavily behind them. His gaze followed Skarlet absently as she approached him, her stare caused his own to falter slightly, he deserved what was coming. His form was still, he didn't move a muscle. Her words held an underlying harshness, he should been prepared for it. They sent a chill down his spine, unseen. He needed to hear her voice again. He reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out the small bag, holding it out to her. "I can hardly expect forgiveness, and I know saying I'm sorry wont do it. And any explaination I have to offer, you probably don't want to hear it." His voice craked slightly, not having spoken for so long. "I promised I'd come back, whether you wanted me to or not. I can hardly expect to stay, I know I'm probably not wanted here. Not after what I did to you." He nearly dropped the bag, but his fingers quickly closed around it in time, black gloves covered both his hands, hiding the multiple cuts that hadn't healed. He'd promised himself he wouldn't show her how weak he had become. His heart ached, he never thought it possible till now, but it was. Like someone was slowly tearing it out, it was worse then the night she'd told him they couldn't be together. This was much diffrent though, that ended well. This... He wasn't sure.
"I'm sorry Skarlet, for everything." It was all he could say, what else would help him now, nothing, not even that. Was he intending to leave again? If she pushed him away. He would go without ever properly meeting his son. He'd do that for her if she wished it. "He's beautiful." It came out in a faint whisper, his arm ached from holding out the bag but he didn't budge. He wanted her to take it at least, even she didn't take his words, he wanted her to take this.

Skarlet’s eyes examined Vincent’s form, realizing something was wrong immediately. Even since she had become a mother, Skarlet noticed little things that normally would have gone unseen. Ignoring them thought Skarlet’s eyes drifted the bag he held out for her. “What’s in it?” She asked, her voice tight, face still holding its composure. She wanted to yell at him, to scream and hit him but she knew that that would have to wait for another time; another place. As he spoke though Skarlet fell silent, listening to him and his feeble excuses. “You’re correct in your assumptions. You won’t be getting any forgiveness, I won’t be listening to your explanations nor will sorry even come close.” She snapped, her temper getting the better of her. Chest heaving slightly, Skarlet sighed, running her hands through her dark locks and tugging at the ends roughly. She wasn’t going to forgive him so easily and she was damn sure he wasn’t going to be taking care of Elijah. “He doesn’t know about you.” Skarlet stated, her eyes locking on to his weak form. Something in her told her she should at least let them meet, but her anger was getting the better of her and she wanted him to suffer as badly as she had. “I told him his father died before he was born and it’s going to stay that way. Meet him, though I doubt you deserve even that much, but so help me God, Vincent if you say anything and I will promise you, you will never see your son again.” Skarlet’s voice was dark, threatening; demanding. She glared at his frail form, face hot and she probably figured it was a light crimson, dark compared to his pale complexion. As her eyes once more zeroed in on the bag, she noticed that Vincent was wearing gloves. Finding it odd, but not wanting to ask, Skarlet kept her mouth shut and snatched the bag from his hands. As she was about to open it, her loves soft words hit her ears and Skarlet froze. Gripping the bag like it was life itself, Skarlet glanced back at Vincent, her face softening slightly, eyes no longer holding such hatred but letting the tiredness, confusion and pain seep in. “He’s stubborn like you.” She commented voice also quiet as her head turned towards the mansion and her eyes seemed to cloud over a bit. Absentmindedly, Skarlet’s arms shifted upwards so she ended up hugging herself in the cool late afternoon. “Quiet.” A small smile tugged at her lips before it faded and she gazed back at Vincent. “He’s got your eyes.”

Vincent's expression didn't change as she asked what was in the bag. Her hate filled words stung, and clung to his thoughts as he watched her for a long moment. His hand dropped back to his side as she took the bag from him. He bowed his head slightly, his blue gaze falling to the ground. "I'm glad, it's probably best he doesn't know about me. And it's probably best I don’t meet him. I've caused you enough pain, saying I shouldn't have left in the first place will not change anything. What's done is done, if I could redo it I would. I would never have left, but that's not an option. He'll grow up to be a great man, he won’t have any of my faults." His gaze slowly pulled towards the mansion again, it'd been to long. He wasn't planning on going in, he'd avoid his mother, and oh how it was painful to do so. He slowly moved to turn away. "It's something I want you to give him when he's older, make up a story, something, anything, but give that to him. It belonged to my father, it's an old pendant I hope it'll do him some good." His hands clenched into weak fists at his sides as he looked up at her again, his eyes softening though the life was still absent. He wanted to tell her how much he'd missed her, how much he still loved her, how much pain all of this had caused him. But he knew she had probably felt more pain then he had. She didn't need to hear any of that from him. He winced slightly as he pushed a stray lock of hair out his face with a gloved finger. One of the cuts had reopened, he got cuts easily now, from the slightest touch to a knife blade or even paper. The smell of the blood made him almost sick. He quickly lowered his hand and turned away from her, as painful as it was to do so again. She probably wanted it that way though. "You know I still love you." He wanted to hug her, hold her closely like he'd once done, once been able to do. He could see the pain, confusion and tiredness in her eyes. It was like a dirrect stab to his already mangled heart, knowing he was the cause of it.

As Skarlet stared back at Vincent, her eyes fastened on to his, the love she had for him resurfaced and she felt her heartbeat quicken like it had when they had started their relationship. As Vincent’s gaze fell to the ground, Skarlet’s shot back to the mansion. Stop this! You hate him for what he did to you! The small voice yelled inside her head and it was right, she did hate him, but she loved him also. A tiny part of her had clung to the idea that he was out there somewhere, alive, but her anger had always overruled that small section of her hope; crushing it until there was nothing left. Or so she had thought. As he began to speak, Skarlet’s attention was drawn back him. Though he didn’t look at her, somehow Skarlet knew he desired too, causing one of her feet to shuffle forwards before she realized what she was doing. Pulling the foot back toward her body, the female Lycan fought with herself unbeknownst to Vincent. “Listen,” She started, her voice failing to form words with each passing second. Should she really be doing this? “I…You could just…” Opening her mouth, Skarlet became lost with words so she just closed it again. As he started to turn away, Skarlet’s free hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” She stated her other hand still holding the unopened bag. After a few seconds of not speaking, Skarlet let him go sharply as if she had just been shocked by lightning. Clearing her throat, Skarlet looked down at the bag in her other hand for a long moment. Opening it slowly, she pulled out the pendent, her throat constricting as she gazed at the keepsake dangling from the chain. “…It’s beautiful…” She whispered, her voice sounding weak even to herself. At the end of the small silver chain hung a cross similar to the one that Skarlet still wore around her own neck, hidden beneath her clothes. The only difference that she could see where the gems; they seemed to be more of a red color while hers had been diamonds. As she placed the pendent back into the bag, Skarlet pulled her own pendent out, wanting him to see she still wore it. She didn’t say anything as she gazed at his form, a slight breeze blowing between them, tossing her hair lightly around her. The scent of blood hit her nose as Vincent raised one of his hands to his face and then dropped it again. Once more as he turned to leave she grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards her until she was positive the smell of blood was coming from him. “Why are you-” She started, her question cut off from his words. Slowly dropping his hand, Skarlet tried to return to her once angry state. She was not going to crumble in the very beginning of this awkward reunion; she still had plenty of fight left in her. “I hate you so much,” She choked out, surprise tears beginning to fall as her fingers clawed at his front, her head falling forward as her sobs increased. All of her bent up anger was just a mask to hide her real pain. The tears that wanted to fall so long ago finally got the chance too and she let them willingly, “but I still love you too.” She whispered.

He tried despreatly to ignore her single word, for him to leave again would probably be the only thing that would make any sense now. When her hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist he froze on the spot, unable to move, unable to speak. He hardly noticed when she let go, he could still feel her warm grasp. He was only glad he'd put on so many layers. He squeased his eyes shut, listening to the soft rustle as she opened the bag and examined the pendant. Her words were soft, painful, everything was painful now. He heard her drop it back into the bag and rustle with something else. He didn't look to her though. He couldn't. When she once again took hold of his wrist and this time pulled him closer he winced, not because he was afraid she'd lash out but because of the physical pain it cause. He was weak. The start of her question startled him, he didn't think she'd notice. His gaze still far from reaching her. He felt as though he didn't deserve even that. He'd punished himself more then she could. Though her words stung, maybe he needed to hear them though, to confirm his assumptions. When she grabbed at his shirt his gaze finally came to her, he noticed the necklace hanging around her neck, something stirred within him, some kind of emotion. He couldn't place it though. As her head came to a rest against his chest he was stunned, he couldn't react, his arms hanging at his side. He wanted to hold her close, tell her how much he loved her, how sorry he was, but he couldn't the signals weren't being sent to his arms or his mouth. He couldn't do anything. Her whispered words sent a shudder down his spine, did she mean them? Tears he'd thought had been dried up by now welled in his eyes, he faought to push them back, he couldn't show this to her. He slowly raised a gloved hand to rest on her shoulder, he wanted to do more to try and comfort her, but he wasn't sure if it was his place to do so anymore.

As Skarlet got a hold of herself, she managed to wipe the tears away, just as Vincent placed on hand on her shoulder. Pulling away from him a bit, Skarlet gazed at him, her eyes red and puffy to notice that he was also trying not to cry. “Why’d you leave me?” She asked, voice hoarse with emotion. She knew she had crumbled in that single instance of grabbing his wrist. She didn’t want him to leave, not again. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle it a second time around, even with Elijah to worry about. She had told her son his father was dead because she wanted to believe he was. She didn’t want to admit to herself or to anyone else that Vincent had left her for possibly another cause. Her fingers uncurled themselves from his shirt and she took a step back, letting his hand slip from her shoulder. Her eyes downcast to the ground, she couldn’t look at him, not when she wanted him back so badly it hurt. She wouldn’t give into her feelings though, she was terrified he would leave her again and she wasn’t sure how she would be able to tell Elijah his father was alive. Eyes zeroing on the bag with her sons pendent in it, Skarlet’s head snapped back up in the direction of Vincent. Holding up her arm, she held the bag out to him. “I want you to give this to him.” She commented, her tears drying up rapidly as her mask slipped back into place. “It’s the least you can do.”

His gaze diverted from her as she looked up at him, he'd expected the question she asked. But what answer could he give her, "I... I... I originally..." He was cut off as she stepped away from him, her fingers releasing his shirt. His hand had dropped back to his side, lifeless. "I originally left to get that, I'd only intended to be gone a week, no longer... but things changed." Again his hands curled into fists, tight enough to cause all of the unhealed cuts on his hands to reopen. Pain seeped into his controlled expression, not physical it was purely emotional. "I ran into some problems, something I hadn't planned on." He managed to get these words out before she offered the bag to him. He glanced at it and gently shook his head, tightening his fists, the physical pain slowly overtaking the emotional and grounding him to reality. He shook his head again; it was a slow and almost pitiful motion, a long lock of black hair falling into his features. "He'd question why a complete stranger is giving it to him, then what story would I make up. No, it makes much more sense for you to give it to him. I want him to know it was from his father. I am dead after all Skarlet, a corpse doesn't come back to life. It's like when a vampire gives up drinking blood, there's only so long they'll survive before they return the way they should be." He took a small, weary step back from her. "I never wanted to leave you in the first place, but I'd made a promise to my father. I wanted to come back each day I was gone. I fought to come back, but I didn't fight hard enough. I didn't get back soon enough." He slowly took another step back away from her; his gaze slowly lifting to meet her's once again. "Please, tell Laszlo to start worrying more about Anna, the living are far more important then a mere memory after all." He wanted to take another step away from her, but he couldn't he was glued to the spot. He didn't want to leave her again, but he didn't feel welcome here anymore.

Skarlet's hope that man that she loved would return to her was crushed as his gaze skiddered away from hers. Vincent wasn't what she had remembered him as. He wasn't the same handsome vampire she'd fallen head over heels for. He was just this pitiful and pathetic creature standing before her, with starvation issues. ...Though I've got no right to judge him considering I'm a turmoil trainwreck as well...Besides...I don't even know what he's been through... "What type of things?" She heard herself whisper, eyes staring at the ground as she once more hugged herself. A mind like hers could become an enemy quickly and hers had just stepped over the boundry line to foe. The images it kept conjuring upwards from the depths were ones she hoped weren't true. "Again, what kind?" She asked, her voice wavering closer to anger than sadness. There was a small pause of silence before his words hit her and her anger overcame her reason again. Clencing the bag, Skarlet's gaze was deadly. "You will give him the pendent Vincent." She snapped, "I've lied to him for two years." Her voice cracked then despite her want to keep her angered state. "The least you can do is lie for one day." A twisted smile crept over her lips, masking her pain. "After all, you're leaving again aren't you?" She threw the bag at him. "Give it to him!" She yelled taking another step forward and pushing him. The unmistakable scent of his blood rushed to greet her and Skarlet held back the need to gasp. It was everywhere, surrounding him like a thick blanket of death. When was the last time he ate? She asked herself, swallowing the rest of her hurt and anger and giving him a curt nod. "Obviously," She hissed as his pitiful words graced her ears. "you're just as pathetic as you sound." Bending forward, Skarlet snatched the bag from the ground and stormed off back towards the mansion. Stuffing the bag into her back pocket, Skarlet choked back the tears that threatened to fall as she walked away from her love. She wasn't going to look back, fearful he'd see more of her broken self. Invisible hands clamped around her heart, squeezing it until the point of suffocation. Gasping for air as the tears started to fall, Skarlet pushed open the front door and stepped through the main entryway. Bypassing the guests, Jouline and her son, Skarlet headed straight down another hallway towards the nearest bathroom where she could regain control over her emotions before going out to greet the guests.

Vincent was about to answer her question, he didn't know what words would have come out of his lips, whether they would have been the truth or a lie, he wasn't enitrly sure. He flinched as the bag was thrown at him he'd made an attempt to catch it but it slipped between his fingers easily. Her words stung, he was pathetic now wasn't he, he had been so sure that she would never want to see him again, but who could miss the longing, the despair, the anger, and the undeniable long lost love that played through her expressions and her words. The emotions were like the small bit characters in plays, saying their two words before shrinking back, but everyone in the audiance still noticed them, they were crutial to the entire play. Her emotions were visable, no matter how hard she tried to hide them. Something stirred in his torn heart as she turned her back on him and nearly stormed into the mansion. His body worked on it's own acord as he followed after her, no longer able to consiously leave her again. She'd have to shove him out before he left willingly. He walked past his own mother, he didn't even notice her there, as he followed after Skarlet. A visable limp was pressent in his stride and pain slipped through his limbs easily but he ignored it. Getting to her was far more important right now. He wanted to be let back into her life and if she didn't allow then he'd accept it, but she hadn't told him to leave. Not yet anyways.

Finding a bathroom was becoming difficult through her tears. God damn it! Why are there so many doors! She yelled to herself, sniffling and inhaling Vincent's scent. Shocked she whirled around to face him before she could stop herself, her body stopping on its own accord; mind taking over whether she wanted it too or not. Forcefully, Skarlet wipped her tears away with the back of her palm, sniffling and rebuilding her walls quickly. "What are you doing?" She asked, her voice strained and cracked. Her eyes darted over her lovers broken form, absorbing everything in a matter of seconds. Running a hand through her lush black locks, it was Skarlet's turn to advert her eyes, staring at a random painting on the wall. "You should feed." She commented, blinking at her own surprise. She hadn't meant to say that outloud, merely think it, but now that it was out there wasn't much she could do to take it back. Her hands fumbled in front of her as she tried to come up with a good excuse as to why she would care but none came and she just sighed, angry with herself. Huffing, Skarlet turned towards the nearest door and entered the room slamming the door behind her. Flipping the lightswitch, Skarlet was greeted by a small servants room. Resting against the door, she sighed, banging her head lightly against it, before running a hand through her hair once more.

Vincent was stunned when she actually stopped and turned to him, her words were weighted with anger and yet again she didn’t give him so much as a chance to answer. He was quickly becoming frustrated with this; if she wanted answers then she should let him give them. His gloved hands rose some what defensively before they fell to his sides again, thick strands of black hair had fallen into his face as he’d run after her. He probably looked far worse then before but it didn’t mater right now. He statement shocked him even further into silence. He should feed he knew that. But he wasn’t about to do so till he knew how this meeting would end. Would it end with them parting ways for good again? He was going to make a conscious effort to try and make sure that wasn’t the out come. He had decided upon that, he wanted to fix this, fix what he had done, what they had done to him. He had started to reach out to her when she spun and locked herself in the room behind her. His hand once again dropping to his side, as useless as always, he couldn’t even do something to comfort her.

He stepped closer to the door; the useless gloved hand was gently placed against the solid wood. “Skarlet, when you meet someone new, you know that, eventually, you'll be parting with that person. Because meetings start with saying hello and envitably end with a good bye. You can't have just one. And meetings don't last forever, we say "Best friends for ever," or "I'll love you forever." And really forever, eternity, these things only exist because we live for a certain period of time. We are born, we die, we say hello and we say good bye. Whether we say good bye on our death bed or not. It's still a parting. It's still forever. To us. But not to the other person. But it doesn’t mean that they can’t meet again. I don’t want to loose you a second time, I mean; I don’t want to leave a second time. I don’t want to repeat my mistakes; I want to learn from them. I’ve barely survived leaving you once, at first I was just planning on giving you the pendant. I was positive you wouldn’t want me back. I was just going to take your choice and leave again, I know how much time I left if I don’t feed, and I had accepted that. But… that changed, things change, people change, decisions change, choices aren’t set in stone. I want to answer all of your questions, but you need to let me answer them. I wont answer them through a door.” His voice was broken, he was a broken man, he was a shadow, but he wanted to be something more again. He wanted to return to who he was. He just wasn’t sure if it was possible.

Skarlet was quietly crying as Vincent spoke, his words true and harmful but she knew the truth hurt and comparred to the things she had said to him; this was nothing. Her back was pressed against the solid oak door, fingers splayed out slightly, palms flat against the harsh tecture. Head resting against the dark colored barrier, Skarlet listening to her loves voice, eyes closed as her mind wandered back to the past and how it had been. Things had been tough, there was no doubt about it, but it was nothing like it was right now. Her eyes popped open at his simple words that seemed to stay implanted in her mind, ignoring the hasty correction. I don't want to loose you a second time...I don't want to loose you a second time...I don't want to loose you a second time... Blinking, Skarlet rolled over, her chest now flat against the door, hands flat against it once more. Gently kissing the stiff material, Skarlet's eyes dried up, and she let out a quiet breath as she continued to listen to her loves final words. Pushing away from the door, Skarlet grasped the door handle in one hand and twisted the knob before pulling it back. Head down, she slowly drew her gaze upwards, admiring her vampires form, even if it was torn and tattered. Slowly she let go of the handle, letting the door fall back against the opposite wall and just stood before him. "I'm sorry," She whispered after a few moments, his words still replaying over in her head. "I was being selfish." Her gaze finally made it to her face and she stared at him, really stared. He looked tired, worn, older than he had been two years ago.

Something in Skarlet yearned to wrap her arms around his waist, to kiss his broken and bruised body, to let him take her life so he could sustain his own. Twitching her head to the left slightly, Skarlet banished the thoughts for the moment. There were more important things to take care up at the moment. ...Well his health is one but... She thought, biting her bottom lip and then growling slightly in frustration. In a flash, Skarlet grasped Vincent's hand gently and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind them. Leading him to the bed, she sat him down before sitting next to him, hand still holding his. Now that she had him in a talking position, she didn't really know what to say so she stuttered a bit, a light blush growing over her cheeks with each passing second. Finally she managed to say one word: "Talk."

Vincent was silent as she finally opened the door, his throat was sore from the small speech he had given, he hadn’t spoken this much for...he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually said more then a few words. His hand dropped to his side as the wood moved away from him, no longer standing between them. Her gaze seemed scrutinizing, no… like she was taking him all in within the brief moment. He flinched back slightly but before he had any other chance to back up she had grabbed his gloved hand and dragged him inside the room. The slight twitch of her head didn’t go unnoticed to him; he even caught her biting her lip in frustration. As the door closed behind them, giving them the privacy of the room he felt like he was at a loss for an explanation.

His body complied with her motions, sitting when she forced him to sit on the bed before she sat beside him. He felt like their relation no longer existed, if she did decide to take him back it would almost be like starting over right from the beginning. His hands folded together in his lap, he wanted to take off the gloves and do something about the cuts but that was out of the question at the moment. His gaze had been focused on his hands as he contemplated this before she spoke the single word. Talk. He had to he said he would.

His gaze slowly rose to her before diverting back to his hands within seconds. “It took me a week to get to where my father was buried. I had to find one of his friends, whom had been holding the pendant for safekeeping. I couldn’t take it with me when we left for…reasons I can’t really share. Anyways, I found him and got the pendant but some people that had been waiting for… maybe I should start with why we left my home town after my father’s death. My brother wasn’t the only one we were hiding from. There was a group; they were against everything my father stood for, no, more like everything my father was. But while he was alive they wouldn’t touch us, it was when Derek murdered him that they took their chance. They would have gone after Derek as well but he was already long gone.” He fell into silence for a moment before he pushed a gloved hand across his face to brush the loose strands of hair away. “Anyways when I went back there I knew I was taking my chances, as soon as they figured out I was there… see they were humans, but their hatred was passed down through their families, or through followings. I never really knew why they hated my father so much. Could have been because of what he was, it is human nature to fear that which is different. They hunted me down and they were far more prepared then I’d ever imagined they were. I didn’t have much of a chance to fight back. Anyways, they thought it fun to torture me rather then kill me. All of their hatred and fear of my father was being taken out on me. I fought as hard as I could to get back to you, I don’t even know hw I was able to get away. I think it was one of Laszlo’s friends that stumbled across me and… well here I am now.” He looked up with this, his eyes were clouded with something, memories, pain, weakness, and everything he was could be seen in his eyes. No strength was left in him anymore. He returned his gaze to his hands. He was almost completely numb to pain, but the pain of the small cuts was getting to him.

Skarlet watched as Vincent’s gaze drifted to hers and then back downwards again to his hands. How long would this last, their eyes never meeting? It was as if they had lies they couldn’t let the other see through the windows of their soul. “Vincent,” She whispered, “why didn’t you call for me? I would have come and helped you.” Watching him, her eyes searched for her old lover, the man he had once been before everything that he had just explained happened. Raising her hand, Skarlet gently cupped his cheek, forcing Vincent to look at her. Her expressions softened and she sighed lightly, “What am I going to do with you?” She whispered, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, as she calmly stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry that that happened to you. I really am. All this time I thought you had left me for another or that you suddenly didn’t want to raise our child. I was furious and hurt. You left that night with no explanation. You were there when I went to sleep, but gone when I woke up.” As she continued to stroke his cheek, Skarlet’s brows knitted as she concentrated on what she was doing. Pulling her hand back she examined the white smears coating her thumb, eyes widening at her realization. Eyes flashing back towards his face, Skarlet let out a small whimper. She’d uncovered a small cut and a tiny trickle of blood was slipping down the side of Vincent’s cheek. Skarlet’s eyes shimmered gold briefly before she suppressed the Lycan inside that wanted to lick the small trail of blood up. Fingers lightly shaking, Skarlet tried to calm herself, her fear rising. If Vincent was this badly covered in wounds, how long did he really have? …Not long… She told herself, her heart seeming to crush itself. Without hesitating or really thinking on the matter, Skarlet cut one of her wrists shoving the wound in Vincent’s face. Her eyes held determination in them. “I won’t loose you so feed.” She stated, letting her wrist glide under Vincent’s nose enticing him more.

Her question was slightly startling, he was getting used to having a conversation with someone again, slowly, but surely. “I didn’t want to involve you Skarlet, I wanted to keep you and the baby safe. I didn’t even tell them about you, if I had they would have gone after you for sure.” His instinct was to flinch away from her touch but he didn’t, he embraced her warm touch as she cupped his cheek and forced him to turn his gaze to her. He closed his eyes at her statement, they were quick to flutter open when she pulled her hand away and heard her whimper. He knew she’d probably found on of the many cuts, his gaze diverting yet again, the smell of blood stung his nose as she cut her own wrist and shoved it in his face, his eyes going wide with the sudden action. He wanted to take her offered wrist, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop drinking, not in his current state. The blue hue was slowly replaced by a dim red, his hunger was taking over, he’d end up taking it no mater how much self control he had. He gently wrapped a hand around Skarlet’s arm, pushing it back a bit from himself as he looked over her, unsure. “Skarlet…” he didn’t see any room for arguing in her eyes, she wasn’t about to take a no from him.

His body took control, the hunger was to much, he was sure he would be able to stop himself, he would only take enough to make sure he could get up and function for a bit longer. He lightly pulled her wrist closer again, the smell of her blood almost made him sick, but his body wanted it, needed it. His lips pressed against her cut flesh before he reluctantly bit into it, the warm liquid flowing into his mouth, a taste long lost and nearly forgotten.

Skarlet gasped, wincing at the first inital pain before her body relaxed somewhat in Vincent's grasp. Heart sped up as it tried to pump more blood through out her system, Vincent's grasp tight like a vice as Skarlet tried to adjust herself on the bed. The rate of blood leaving her body in such a quick fasion was starting to cause her to become faint, her head light as she watched him. "Vincent." She started, trying to gently pry him away. "Stop." He was going to drink to much if she let him continue any longer. He'd had enough to sustain him until got him something to snack on, at least she hoped he did. She hadn't seen any of his wounds even begin to heal which scared her greatly. How much was he going to need to feed on to get back to what he was once? She thought, tugging on her wrist now. "Vincent. Stop." She repeated more sternly, her vision swimming with each tug. She was starting to panic, his grip still iron tight as she pulled. He seemed to be lost in his own mind while he fed off of her wrist.

Vincent didn't hear her at first, her words slipping through his mind unnoticed as he drank. When she started to tug his grip tightened slightly on it's own accord. It wasn't till the last two words were spoken did he snap back into reality, his grip breaking almost instantly as she pulled on her wrist, he was up off the bed in seconds, slowly backing away from her. The sleeve of his shirt wiped across his lips to get rid of the blood that marred them. He quickly shook his head as he realised he could have easily killed her if he hadn't stopped. His back hit the door and he froze, almost like an animal caught in the head lights of a car. He shouldn't have given into the temptation. "Skarlet, I'm so sorry," these words tumbled from his lips as his hands pressed against the wood behind him, searching for the handle of the door. "You shouldn't have done that. No, I shouldn't have taken it..." His lifeless eyes were wide as he spoke, self realisation setting in. THe sent of her blood hung in the room, his hunger still pressent, he had to get out. His fingers finally found the handle and he pulled on it, opening the door into himself before he stumbled and corrected his positon so he could slip out into the hall. He had to leave, no he couldn't, he'd said he wouldn't. He had to feed.

Skarlet shrugged lightly, “It is fine Vincent.” She commented, her lips pressing against her wrist and enveloping the small wounds, her tongue lapping at the little rivulets of blood that seeped through them. Saliva healed the tiny wounds almost instantly, but Skarlet still felt the effects of blood lose. She knew it would pass over momentarily, her body able to produce blood much quicker than a human, but that still wouldn’t have been enough time because Vincent was out of the room in a flash. Sighing, Skarlet pushed off the petite bed and slowly made her way to the hallway. When she emerged from the room, Vincent was already halfway down it and in the opposite direction from which then had entered. In no mood to follow him, Skarlet rubbed the back of her neck tenderly and headed down the hall back towards her Elijah. She would have to help greet the guests, entertain them, eat and then but Elijah to bed. Maybe she’d sneak in a meeting with Vincent later on tonight, if he ever decided to stop running away. ”When you’re done doing whatever you’re running away to do, meet me back at the cottage later on tonight. This isn’t the end of our discussion.”

Vincent had disapeared down the flight of stairs, and shut the basement door behind himself when he got Skarlet's mental invitation. He shuddered lightly, some thought or another was creeping back into his mind, like so many others were. One's he didn't want to think about at the moment, one's he'd rather have stayed forgotten. He decended further into the darkness till the last bit of light that slipped in under the door had faded and been completely consumed, her ran a gloved finger along the wall till he found one of the oil lanterns, turning the knob to push the wick up a bit more before he leaned over to and removed the glass, pursing his lips slightly he gave a soft breath and the wick caught fire, filling a small portion of the stone linned basement with dim light. He pulled a ring of keys from the wall next to the lamp after he'd replaced the glass and headed even deeper into the narror seeming hall till he stopped in front of a barred door and slid a key into the lock, before swinging the door open with a soft whine of metal on metal.

Vincent's gloved hand slowly unclencehed, the thin fabric of the girl's shirt slipping from his fingers, a soft thd followed as her body left his grasp. He'd still need to feed more, but not right away, he was better then he had been before. His paper like skin had gained a tinge of fresh colour, it would take months for his body to return to a healthy state, as far as vampies went, but he was looking better already. Some of the cuts had healed completely, most had closed but were still slowly healing. His lips were stained a deep red, creating a starking contrast with his ghostly skin. He closed his eyes as he leaned back against the door to the small cell, sliding to the floor with a slight wince. He wasn't sure if Skarlet would take him back, he doubted she would. And he highly doubted she would ever tell Elijah he truth. He'd remain in the shadows as he watched him grow up thinking his dad was dead. He'd never wanted that for his child. He knew what it was like, though his case was diffrent, he had actually known his father for a while before he'd lost him. He put a hand against his forehead, a sigh leaving his lips, blood dripped down the corner of them, leaving a fine train to his chin. Skarlet would probably find someone better than him, he would then take the place of Elijah's step father. Of course these thoughts had been a popular topic in his mind ever since he'd realised there would be next to no hope of getting back to Skarlet in time to save any form of a relationship between them. He'd probably leave once he was sure she could be happy, he didn't know what he'd do then, just that it'd be much easier on her. His knees slowly pulled up to his chest before he stood, walking to each lamp he'd lit and he carefully blew them out, grabbing the keys once again he took measured steps to the room in which he'd spent most of his life here. He unlocked the door and slipped inside, closing it behind him. The darkness was welcoming, it seemed to greet him with a comforting familiarity. He sat down in the center of the room, slowly shifting till he was sprawled out on the floor, his hands under his head. This was the one place he actually felt welcomed. His eyes fluttered closed and he quickly slipped into sleep for the first time in over a year. At least the first sound sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note:

If nothing makes sense then just let me know and I'll try to iron out the wrinkles. This is the begining to the sequel to Spellbound [1]. A story we've written with more of our friends, I just really liked out characters sections. Our friends have also written in the sequel, I just took out their parts. XP I'll give you a bit of the background history. Vincent is a vampire, the nephew to Skarlet's master, Laszlo. Skarlet is a pet, more or less a guardian to the grounds. She makes sure no intruders get inside the grounds. She's also a Lycan. If there are any more questions don't hesitate to ask. :] Oh, also. I don't know why Vincent's last two posts are in italics, nor do I know why this is in italics either. I couldn't take it off so *shrugs*. All well. Lol.

Vincent's posts are in normal font, Skarlet's are in BOLD.