The Dead of Night

Chapter Ten

Chapter 10: The Compromise

I was amazed how numb I felt as my body plummeted toward the ground beneath me; a strange calm overtook me. The last time I felt this I was in a hotel room with two vampires—one who could manipulate emotions. The swift memory was cut short and my tranquil state was interrupted by a hard impact. I gasped out of shock and lack of breath; whatever I hit had knocked the wind right out of me. My hearing was muffled but I could vaguely make out distant cries as my consciousness began to fade. Moving my hand around, searching for the object that I fell on, I traced my fingers against something extraordinarily hot. Before I could identify the object, I fell into darkness.

I blinked slowly, wincing at the raging pain in my head, and lifted myself up weakly. The room was dark, save for a sliver of light protruding from an open curtain; after glancing around, I easily identified the room as the McRae's living room. How did I get here? Did I survive the fall? I didn't get a chance to form any more questions, as raised voices caught my attention from the adjacent room. I glanced up and spied Ary and Avarice, staring at one another with stern expressions and arguing. I listened closely, curious what they were speaking about.

"Aryana." Avarice's voice was very stern. He moved his hands from his hips and crossed them angrily. "It's hard to be compassionate when you act so careless."

"Please, spare me the dramatics," Ary responded offhandedly and turned away from him.

"These are not dramatics," he hissed and she shifted to look at him again. "Against my opposition, you insisted on bringing Bella into our lives and, despite my adoration for her, she is your responsibility, Aryana!"

"I'm sorry," Ary muttered softly, crossed her arms, and lowered her head remorsefully.

My brow softened at Ary's response. What is she sorry for? I was the one who fell off the darn balcony! I'm the one whose coordination is so bad it's a disability.

"Don't apologize to me," Avarice interrupted my thoughts and laughed incredulously. "I'm not the one who fell off the third story balcony because you lost your nerve." He sighed, rubbed his temples, and crossed the room to the window. "Maybe it would be better if he were here instead of me. He could take care of this…" Avarice trailed off and I heard a low growl from the opposite side of the room—Ary.

"Don't you growl at me, Aryana McRae; it's not my fault that you two are at odds right now."

"I've got an idea Avarice," Ary seethed. "How about we pretend I already feel terrible and you don't need to rub it in anymore." There was a brief silence and I began to wonder if they were done with their conversation when Ary spoke. "For at least 800 years I have been in control and yet, I find myself getting more and more distracted. It's beyond frustrating."

Avarice sighed, almost too softly for me to catch, and chuckled. "Well, at least Bella is helping you."

Ary scoffed with a doubtful expression. "Helping me? And how is that?"

"I've seen you phase sporadically before," Avarice said evenly. "You would never try to stop the change, but around Bella, you're careful and think hard about your actions—the majority of the time anyway."