Chapter 25: Relapse

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"So there we were, he's a young man still coming into adulthood and me an old lecherous witch," Phillipe's voice floated into my waking mind. "There was no way to fight them all, but their House had strict rules. He was safe because he was a young guest as was any of his possessions."

"So you pretended to be his property and the other vampires left you alone," Ariane continued.

Both laughed heartily.

It seemed like such a strange memory at the time. I remember Phillipe and I traveling across Europe and having to commit to many such rouses to ensure our safety. But I didn't know Ariane back then. She wasn't even born yet.

"The irony is, by that time Michele was older than many among them, though he still looked barely out of his teens. It drove many women crazy."

"Really?"

I sat up, my eyes snapping open to my bedroom. The place was much the way I'd left it, but with small rays of sun, fighting to ease past my thick curtains. The voices came from my bedroom door, left slightly ajar. I climbed out of bed, immediately aware of my nakedness. At the foot of my bed was my specter suit, the scent of dried blood instantly catching my attention. I grabbed a pair of jeans from my hamper and slid them on as I listened to the conversation in the other room.

"What was he like as a child?"

"When I met him he had already lived thirty years, though he looked a decade younger. Apparently most vampires couldn't sense his power, so he not only looked like a child, but felt like one as well." The thing in the jar chuckled. "He was stubborn, but bright. Things came to him easily and he had a knack for reading people."

"You say it with such fondness."

"Don't tell him that. He may have been my last student, but he was also, by far, my most talented."

"He's listening at the door, you know," Ariane said in a mock whisper. Of course she heard me moving around the room.

I entered the living room. The closet was open and Phillipe's shelf was extended. Bright green eyes crowned by a smoky green halo swirled inside his jar. Ariane sat on the couch. She'd removed her specter suit down to the waste. Her sports bra was speckled with blood and stained bandages covered her forearm. My first aid kit sat open on the table beside Gate's black rancher hat. I looked around, Gate's boots were by the kitchen counter.

Ariane followed my gaze.

"She's asleep in your home office."

"Why do you say it like that?" I asked as I sat on the loveseat.

"Why is your office twice the size of your bedroom?"

"I'm rarely home." I shook my head at the face she made. "Plus, all I need is space to sleep."

"So your room is just a big coffin."

I wanted to argue, but she might have had a point. Phillipe snickered from his tiny prison.

"What happened last night?" I asked to change the subject.

They both looked at me with concern.

"How much do you remember?"

It was a good question. I concentrated, bits and pieces joined sights and sounds until I had a fairly good image of events.

"... I attacked someone."

"You went berserk and tried to feed in public."

"Berserk?"

"Berserk. I didn't like the look in your eyes when you told me to go on ahead of you so I made Jacob double back and I followed you. Don't look at me like that. You're lucky I did. You were out of your mind."

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