Sensitive to the Light Immortal Bloodlines I

Sensitive to the Light (Chapter 11)

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Dedicated to ToughCookiexD for becoming a fan.  You're Awesome xXx

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Plena septimana,
Coeli plorate,
Non diebus non noctes,
Adducet relevium

* * * * * * *

A strange stillness washed through the room as we all seemed to take a moment to contemplate the gravity of the words passed between us.

The sun had been lurking on the edge of the horizon as they arrived, but now it was lower still as it slunk behind the mountains, casting elongated shadows throughout the room.

Accompanied by the dim light of the fire they seemed to take on a life of their own, flickering and writhing in a freakish dance to the moaning of the wind as yet another storm began to move in.

"I’d better turn on the generator,"  I broke the silence between us and began to rise.

"Please don’t,"  Bette said wistfully, "It reminds me of home. Some candles would be lovely though, if you have them."

"Of course," I smiled as I made my way to the bureau on the far side of the room.  I wondered where ‘home’ had been, and when.  I pulled a mildewed box of candles from the left-hand cupboard, taking a box of matches from the drawer above before passing them to Bette who placed them about the room just-so, giving it an aura of comfort and warmth.

"Not that I mind the company, but why are you all here?"

Julius reached into the pocket of his jacket, "I’m returnin’ these," he set the sunglasses I thought I’d lost earlier on the arm of his chair, "Betty’s come t’ read yer fortune, an’ Gray’s jus’ a nosey parker come t’ see the ‘uman girl wot’s got Cal all in a tizz."

I blushed furiously. "Why didn’t he come too?"

Gray chuckled, "I think he was worried you’d punch him again, that and he’s got a one hell of a mess to clean up."

"Vampires doing housework?" I laughed with him, "How very..."

"Not Vampire-ish?" Bette asked,

"No, not that.  I was going to say boring."

The ice was well and truly broken as we all sniggered at Callan's misfortune.  Left behind to mop the floors, poor bugger.

"Oh crap!" I exclaimed "I’m so sorry, I’m the worst host in the universe," I shot to my feet, "Do you guys want beer or coffee or anything?"

Gray stood up with me, "We never say no to beer, I’ll give you a hand.  Bette, get your cards and set up the show."

She nodded as Gray followed me out of the room towards the stairs.

"You’re not at all what I expected," he said as we reached the first of the basement rooms. "You seem to be taking all of this very well.  When Callan carried you in yesterday, you were this bedraggled pathetic looking damsel in distress who fainted at the sight of dead bodies, but you’re not like that at all are you?"

"I'm not.  Did he tell you why I fainted?"

"No, maybe it wasn't his story to tell."

I told him about my dream.