The Bane of Light

Vampyrs and their Girlfriends

"Wilhemine?" Paris repeated. My eyes flickered up at him, focusing in my eyesight after staring off into space. Why was this boy always confused? Did he not have comprehension skills, or was he just used to everyone dumbing things down for him?

"Yes. My mother. Wilhemine" I repeated myself slowly, as if talking to a mentally deficient baboon. I checked the clock on the wall, seeing how late it was and trying to decipher why Paris was always wasting my time with his moronic questions.

"You call your mother by her first name?" Paris asked his lips pulling down into a frown, looking absolutely flabbergasted at the statement.

"Of course we do. Being called 'Mother' makes her feel old" And Nyx forbid she's reminded of the one thing she can't control: time. Despite her best efforts of staying young and powerful, with the help of her unauthorized healing elixir "treatments", she could not stop time. She would eventually age past her prime and fall from grace, and hopefully that fall would be from multiple stories up. I relished in the fact that this maddened her, and her abuse of potions did nothing to alleviate her worries.

"So all of you simply call her Wilhemine? Isn't that disrespectful?" Paris asked again, irking me further.

"Reminding her that she's related to us, by calling her 'mom', is disrespectful as it is. I doubt formality is on the forefront of her worries. And besides, my oldest brother, Axel, calls her Mother" I grit out. Exhaustion nipped at my mind. I wanted to sleep, my eyelids growing more leaden by the moment. As did my irritation.

"Why?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused, "why is he allowed to call her 'mother' when the rest of you can't? Is it because he's eldest?"

"Of course not. It's because he is her favorite" I replied curtly.

At that, Paris' face morphed into full blown shock. His sandy eye brows were furrowed, a shadow appearing between. It was obvious, depicted by his disturbed expression, that he was unfamiliar to my family dynamic.

"I'm sure that's not...true" Paris began, attempting to coddle my indifferent feelings. I couldn't care less that Axel was her favorite, and Paris mustn't pretend like it wasn't the truth. He was trying salvage the tender feelings he assumed I had towards the subject. But I didn't. It was fact in my family, and I was the last person to bear ill will over it. And besides, It was none of Paris' business anyways, my family dynamic or my feelings towards it.

"And I'm sure that it's not any of your business, is it? Last time I checked, we aren't friends, so stop prying into my life" I spat at him, irritated a new. I was tired, sleep-deprived, and drained of my magic. Paris was doing nothing to help relieve my nerves, and I wanted out of the morgue so that I wouldn't have the dead eavesdropping on my conversation. Paris advocating for my mothers character also pissed me off beyond expression.

My mother was—more often than not—a nightmare. She cast the illusion of a dream- beautiful and unattainable, but I knew her true nature. It's a pity that other could not do the same. They lacked the wit, to look past the glamour she cast over the vile reality of her personality. The flashiness of her being the East Coast Coven's Matron of Magic blinding them. Of course Paris, with his naivity and Light Mage goodness campaign, turned a blind eye to my mothers two-faced, superficiality. It was in his nature, really, to see only what he wanted to see.

"Right. Sorry" Paris stated, blushing slightly. His tan face turned a shade of a soft pink. Of course he blushed perfectly too. His shade didn't mimic that of a bloody tomatoes, unlike some of us, when he got embarrassed, but that of a soft rose. Splendid.

My eyes trailed to his arm where the calka bite was. It had turned a sickly shade of white, and I knew it had to be treated. The demon itself no longer threatened Paris, but infection did.