Eternal Night

(II) Chapter 34: Shedding Some Light

The journey back to Carmen's was quiet and uneventful. By the time they arrived, tempers had somewhat abated, although Rémy still had a violent mélange of emotions radiating off him – anger, sorrow, betrayal, guilt.

He didn't so much as utter a word as they entered through the main door, the man bee-lining for the bar. Carmen recognized that look he was wearing all too well, and before he could reach her, she already had a generous shot of her special whiskey waiting for him. He knocked it back angrily before slamming the glass down, eyes demanding another. She obeyed while sending Frankie a questioning look. The woman nodded her head to confirm that things had been taken care of, to which the Spaniard only shrugged, sighing quietly as Rémy knocked back the second shot. He gripped the edge of the counter, clearly struggling with whatever was brewing inside of him.

His fangs were still out, eyes glowing a feral blue, the empty glass in his hand.

With a growl that gave way to a furious shout, he chucked the glass across the room, barking Danny's name as it shattered.

Danny emerged from the back seconds later.

"We have an appointment we need to keep," was all the man said, still fuming. Frankie sent her brother's friend an apologetic look, but he only shrugged – as if he had been anticipating this. The two left moments later, Rémy slamming the door shut behind him.

When they were gone, the atmosphere in the room visibly shifted, becoming lighter as everyone – even Vlad – sighed in relief.

Damon and Vesper, who had been quietly throwing knives at a target on one of the walls before the commotion had set in, continued their practice while Frankie, Lyra, and Carmen all exchanged knowing gazes.

"Why don't you head into the back," the latter said. "I'll get some blood for us to drink. Damon? Can you clean up the glass?"

"Sure thing!"

"Vesper – the sun will be rising soon. You can practice for thirty more minutes and then you need to head upstairs and get ready for bed."

The teenager mumbled her acknowledgement.

"So, I take it by that display that things didn't go very well?" Carmen then called out as she placed four tumblers and a bottle of blood on a tray, following after Vlad, Lyra, and Frankie as they made their way into the war room.

"Oh, it went well enough," Lyra managed. "Jacob was a saint. Rémy was his usual asshole self," and she plopped into one of the chairs, putting her feet up on the table, eyes carefully shifting back and forth between Frankie and Vlad who sat next to each other but made a point to not be too close. "I assume you're totally lost in all this, Leinhart?" she called out.

Vlad shrugged.

"I'm growing accustomed to the sensation," he admitted lightly. "Things have a habit of revealing themselves sooner or later, anyway."

The look he sent Francesca made Lyra's eyes narrow in suspicion, though she kept her questions to herself.

Carmen started to pour the drinks, chuckling at the man's comments.

"For my part, I admire your forbearance," she announced, handing him a glass. "Lesser men would have given up on us ages ago."

He offered her a nod of thanks, but no words as he drank deep.

"Well Lyra, do you want to give him the details, or shall I?" Carmen asked, but the redhead still had her eyes on Frankie.

"I think Frankie should explain that one," she replied, the woman in question having already downed her helping of blood in a single go, now studying the empty glass with a look of disappointment. It took Francesca a moment to realize her friend had even said anything, and when she noticed all of the eyes now on her, she sighed heavily.