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There was a knocking on the door, followed by a call. "Aurora, it's Logan!"

"I'll be down in a moment," I assured him, leaning over my vanity table and staring at my reflection, as I've been doing for the last two hours.


He walked away and I looked behind me, at the door. Then, I looked back at myself.

Was Jonah right? Am I 'evil?' Is that why I'm a vampire, why I'm being hunted by daemons? The answer is in that patient list.

The grave. I need to go to my Dad's grave.

I looked toward the door again, contemplating my next move. Should I join Jonah, Naomi, and Logan? Naomi's mad at me, Jonah thinks I'm malevolent, and Logan. Logan doesn't know what to think. He's indifferent toward me, though I continue to express phenomenons I shouldn't be able to express.

I ground my teeth together, out of habit. Should I?

Without thinking any further, I opened the hurried toward the door and opened it. Thankfully, Logan wasn't too far down the hall and not down the stairs yet.

"Logan!" I whispered as quietly as I could. Naomi has excellent hearing as a vampire and she can't know I'm leaving.

Surprisingly, he heard me and turned around.


I silently beckoned him over with my finger. He obeyed and walked up to me.

"What is it?" He asked curiously. Then, he quietly gasped as he saw my eyes. "Aur-"

I put a hand up to stop him and swept my hair back. "Logan, we're going to exhume my father."


"This is a horrible idea," Logan repeated for what seemed to be the millionth time as we completed our walk to Whitestone Graveyard. Since my car's at the bottom of some hell-river, I'll be doing a lot of walking now.

"Stop complaining," I told him, trying not to drag the metal shovel on the ground. "Naomi will be able to hear you and they'll find us."

He pressed his lips together and we came across the large black gate that acted as an entrance to the graveyard.

"Oh, it's locked, let's go back to your house," Logan nervously suggested and turned around, ready to go back the way we came. With a roll of my eyes, I grabbed the hood of his jacket and pulled him back.

"I'm a vampire, remember?" I asked, raising the shovel and tapping it on the large lock on the gate. "I think you'll want to put your hands over your ears for this.

He took my advice and plugged his ears with his fingers. I tapped the lock twice with the shovel, making sure it was aligned properly, before swinging it over my shoulder and bringing it down with the most force I could muster. A loud banging sound scared some of the birds resting about the yard away and the broken lock fell from the gate.

I looked back at Logan, a self-righteous smirk on my face, before turning back around and kicking the gate open.

We began the procession to my parents' grave. I haven't been here in months...I've tried to move on with my life. And it's hard to do that if you keep visiting the reason why you can't.

We walked past various gravestones dating back to the late 1700s in silence, before Logan broke it.

"Why are your eyes red?"

Without looking at him, I replied, "Weren't you supposed to figure that out? Why my eyes are red? How can I internalize infernal energy?"

Logan scratched the back of his neck. "I think it's the same reason why you could make the crossbows appear. You wanted the crossbows, they came. You wanted hell fire, it came."

"I don't remember wanting infernal fire."

"You wouldn't," Logan continued. "I went back to Whitestone Institute and looked in a couple of books in the library that may have pertained to what you're going through. But, it said nothing about vampires. Only witches. And when a witch completes a powerful spell, memory loss is common."

"But I'm not a witch." I seemed to be repeating that a lot lately. "Because witches can't be turned into vampires. Vampire blood is repelled by witch blood."

Logan nodded. "I know. But, I wasn't able to stay for long and research why this may be happening to a vampire."

"William came?" I predicted.

"Yes. He doesn't suspect me, but he finds it suspicious that I'm looking up infernal flames. The Institute detected a disturbance in the alternate planes, which is fancy-talk for parallel worlds. Whitestone observes the planes, so they'll be informed when something or someone leaves or enters another world."

"And they detected us going into..."

"We were in the Infernal Plane, the home of the daemons. The mistletoe in the water wasn't necessarily to repel vampires, but good ones. Like the ones Institutes around the world harbor. Evil vampires would know about the sea and stay away from it."

I tightened my grip around the shovel. "Is William hunting us down?"

Logan shook his head. "He doesn't care. Yes, you broke out a prisoner and stole weapons, but as far as he can tell, you're just a nuisance to the Institution and you're not welcome there anymore. Pursuing you would just be a waste of time and resources."


"And about the abnormal things happening to you, I couldn't find anything out. Why tenebras are chasing after you, why you keep doing necromancy things. But, I suspect it may have something to do-"

"With how I was turned a vampire," I finished. "And that answer lies in this grave."

I stopped walking. I pointed to the large gravestone we stood in front of and heard Logan lightly gasp.

Quinn and Evan Bradley

Mother, Father, Friend

February 10th, 1973 - June 23rd, 2012

November 4th, 1970 - June 23rd, 2012

R. I. P.

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