"She was too young, too gentle, and I couldn't save her. And I'm sorry." -- Suzanne Collins, "The Hunger Games: Mockingjay"

Scott expects entering the hospital room will be a somewhat traumatic experience, one he'd never forget. He doesn't deserve to. It isn't the first time in his life he's done something wrong, let someone down, hurt someone. For some reason, it's one of the times he feels guilt most acutely. Aside from the time he'd hurt Eleni and the way he'd betrayed his father so unforgivably he'd been thrown out of the house as a youngster, he had never felt anything like what he feels when he thinks of Alisaundra.

Alisaundra's eyes fly wide open as she sees Scott walking into the room with a huge tray of happy and shiny things. There is something childlike and fragile about her. For the first time since they'd met in the hotel, Scott notices how young she is. He did at the very beginning but, somehow, that knowledge had faded over time. 

She doesn't belong here. She doesn't belong with me, he thinks to himself. She needs her family. When she gets better, I will make sure she feels loved and safe. I will get her back to her real home.

"I know you! I'm very happy to see you, I think. Are all those things for me?"

Scott's lips press together and he feels the crushing of his heart when he sees Ali. Her head is wrapped in large white bandages that cover the spots where her beautiful blonde hair was removed to stitch the skin together. A small hole had been made in the side of Alisaundra's head to help relieve the pressure and swelling in her brain. Without the help of whoever brought her to this hospital, she certainly would have died. The thought causes the back of his throat to stick together and his chest to constrict.

He hates to tell Ali no, but then again, he always hates telling her no. "I hate to disappoint you, Ali, but these are for sharing with Lala. I will bring you more gifts the next time I visit, though." A voice inside him tells him to speak to her as if he were speaking to a child.

Lala's head turns at the mention of her name. In contrast to Ali's sweet and child-like nature, Lala seems dark and moody. Without all her accessories, she looks like an average young woman, and one not all that young. She definitely doesn't look like the kind who makes heads turn the way they often do for her. Scott realises how much of the art of seduction is a mental game. Lala turns herself into whoever she wants to be, but when she is just Lala she is almost unremarkable. On the other hand, while even at her worst, Ali is still Ali. She is simple and unpretentious, spoiled but lovable. One of them doesn't know how to be her genuine self, and the other can't be anything but. It's a strange but sensible pairing.

I don't know if Lala deserves better than me, Scott thinks to himself, but Ali does. It's not too late for her to have a normal, happy life.

Lala's caramel eyes stare blankly. "Vampires keep chasing me. They have trapped me in this room, and they attack me with straps and needles. I will fight back, though. I fought the first time, and I'll keep fighting. My soul and my blood is mine."

Scott would laugh if he didn't know Lala's fear of vampires and her new habit of equating them with doctors taking her blood was an incomplete memory. Lala was a stronger creature than Ali, both mentally and physically, and Scott suspected Eleni underestimated the Romani girl in a sense of panic. Eleni wasn't the only one in Aubrey Parish who'd learned some strange magic.

"Lala, do you remember me? It's Scott. I'm your friend, your roommate. I heard what happened at the house, and I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you." The lies roll from his tongue fairly easily. "I'm going to have security put in cameras and alarms and make sure we are all safer, I promise. "

Lala's eyes stare at him, nodding slowly. "I remember, yes. We are more than friends though, I think."

Scott sighs a little. Of course, she hadn't forgotten about that. "That's probably true, Lala. Something we all need to talk about when everyone is better and we go home."

Ali's face has the same peaceful smile on it. "We will go home soon, won't we? I miss home. We live by the water. What happened to Eleni? Did she move away? She didn't visit us."

A headache steadily builds in Scott's temples. "No, Eleni didn't move away. She lives right next door. She ran over to help you when the robber got in, along with two guys who live in the house on the other side.' He tries to phrase everything delicately. "Eleni was hurt a little too. I'm sure she'll visit when she's better."

The smile on Alisaundra's face is wider. "Someone tried to hurt me, you know. I am strong and indestructible, though. They won't try that again."

Scott couldn't help but smile endearingly. "Strong and indestructible, hmm? I don't know who told you that but they're probably right." If he has any doubt in his mind about who had rescued the girls, it was completely erased by Ali's words.

Lala seems agitated and whispers the warning. "Watch out! The redhead vampire is coming. She's always pretending to be nice, talking about sunny weather and flowers and shit. Doesn't she know we're in a fucking hospital?"

Scott snorted a bit of restrained laughter at Lala's comment, because true to her word, Azzie Parker appeared at the door. "Can I get anything for you? I'm helping out while Mr. Grimm has his checkup." Azzie's face beams with excitement. "There have been many people here to say congratulations. You must be Scott! It's very good to meet you finally. They were having a hard time finding you."

Scott's glare at Azzie is almost as expressive as her enthusiasm. The last thing he needed was a crazy girl who talked about souls and spirits and rainbows and walked the park endlessly like a homeless person. He wasn't exactly one to judge anyone else's sanity, but Azzie definitely didn't help his own. "Congratulations? I think you're confused. You should be more careful what you say to people, you know. These girls have head injuries. They don't need you talking about fucking congratulations, and while you're at it, stop trying to poke people with needles when they have repeatedly refused. Haven't you all heard "no means no?"

It had been a long and stressful day. Scott hadn't had a drink since leaving the hotel, and as the hours passed, the throbbing in his head and the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears hurt like hell. He is trying, for Ali and for Lala, and he knows he is taking his frustration out on the first person unlikely to hit him. "Sorry. I just want everyone to leave them alone and stop poking at them. They've been through enough."

Scott looks around for a chair, and not finding one, steadies himself against the wall.

Azzie's lips lose their smile and instead press together in a firm line designed to prevent her from speaking. She had seen the way Scott was acting far too often, and the anger that would explode like shrapnel towards innocent bystanders.

The redheaded girl felt sorry for the women in the room. She had known men like Scott her whole life. They felt sorry, apologised, swore they'd change, sometimes even did the obligatory stint in rehab or jail.

She'd stopped hoping people could change a long time ago because they never did. If they did, she wouldn't bring Damon his breakfast and drag him to a shower or a bed, throwing away the mostly empty coffee cup filled with bourbon.

Azzie looks at the women, and then at Scott, shaking her head. More than anything, she felt sorry for the soul in the room she hadn't been able to count yet. Azzie already feels the connection. If nothing changes, and people so rarely do, she would have a childhood too much like Azzie's own.

"The congratulations are obviously not for being hurt. They are for getting better, and for the new soul that's being allowed into the city. I'll leave a note about the blood tests."

Azzie shakes her head and moves to walk away when Scott's arm grabs her. She wheels around, and says politely, "Do not put your hand on me, please. You could instead ask me not to leave."

The man looks ready to beat his own head into the wall, and while the girls in the bed are oddly calm, he is flushed and wobbly. "Okay. Sorry. I just wondered what that means. You say things that sound confusing, about souls and spirits and people coming and going from the Parish. No one understands them and they're creepy. There's a spirit in this room? Can we get rid of it, or have them moved to a different one?"

Azzie laughs, and it is a bubbly sound that seems to encourage the perception that she was creepy. "It is not something that troubles me, that people do not understand. I see what I see, I share it, and I move on. Everyone understands in time. That's not creepy. That's knowledgeable."

She smiles gently, and says, "It is not a spirit and it's not in the room. It's a soul. She is a soul." Azzie corrects herself. "You would not want to get rid of her when she battled to stay. She is a warrior soul, and that is good." The bubbly redhead seems almost proud of this fact.

Her black eyes survey the room, landing on Scott. "It's not a creepy or baffling problem. It happens to many women, and they get over it. In this case, I'd guess about seven months until she can meet you all. She is very excited. I have already counted her." Azzie was no one's doctor, she was just a strange little girl who knew that by next June, a soul would say goodbye to Aubrey Parish and this new one would say hello.

The room is deathly and awkwardly silent, and Azzie shrugs, and says, "Time to go and get Mr. Grimm. I hope you all get better soon."

She leaves so quickly, she doesn't hear the thud that happens as Scott hits the floor. In her quiet voice, Ali tries to call for help. Azzie walks quickly and doesn't hear a thing.

Colton's shoes squeak slightly as he makes his way into the conference room, locking the door behind him, before checking a second time. A bit of paranoia sets in, the way it always does when he's looking at something he doesn't want others to see.

The truth sets us free, he thinks to himself, though his hands shake as he opens the briefcase. He doesn't even notice that every bit of him is shaking.

The Sheriff pulls out Ava's file, studying the things he never wanted anyone else to have to see. Crime scene photos, hauntingly beautiful images of the girl hours after her death. She was stunning, radiating something innocent and fascinating even after she'd left the Earth. It was as if even in death, the girl still lived on.

Ava's body had disappeared, but no one knew they had it in their custody long enough to run basic tests. It wasn't the first time a body connected to someone who worked for Victor had vanished into thin air. Even before they'd left the crime scene, the medical examiner and her team of two devoted assistants had gotten to work. They'd taken hair samples, fingernail clippings, blood samples. There had been no time for an autopsy, but the medical examiner worked quickly and thoroughly, especially when it was a sweet young woman who'd inexplicably died.

Colton started carrying Ava's case file with him long ago because he didn't trust Keegan not to go so far as to break in to look for the girl's file. Keegan was hell-bent on proving Victor Zenkova had killed Ava, and the boy was willing to spend his life in jail or even die if it meant getting justice for Ava.

When he saw the preliminary report, Colton knew there would not be justice for Ava, not openly. The reality of what happened to her would have unraveled the carefully constructed masquerade under which the Parish lived. It wasn't just a figure of speech. They all occupied a world where the act known as "breaking the masquerade" or "lifting the veil" was punishable by things worse than death. The masquerade, the agreement that everyone would always pretend everyone and everything was human and magic was a pretty lie sold by Caimbria at the occult shop, it was everything. It was what made the Parish the safe haven it was.

Colton feels like he ages a decade every time he looked at Ava's file. Remembering her was hard and yet nothing would be a greater tragedy than letting her be forgotten. Her file was graphic and harsh, much like her life. He feared that more than one person would end up taking his own life if the truth came out.

"Death By Unknown Circumstances" was the answer that was best for Keegan , best for the Parish, best for anyone on the outside world who'd ever known and loved Ava. He wondered if anyone ever did. Colton had only met the girl twice, but he could still picture the perfect smile and the gem-like green eyes. Everyone should have loved her. She was love personified, someone who offered the world so much and asked so little in return.

When he looked at Ava's face, stripped of the makeup and the artifice and the masquerade that had been created for her, he though of Zia. In a complicated world, some people were simply human. Being human meant loving more, hiding less, and dying more easily. When he looked at Ava's face, he saw Zia's face, and then his own. He wept for how quickly time flew away. At the beginning of life, everything seems like so much. Time is endless. It is the first real disillusionment most people experience, learning that it isn't, and it haunts for the rest of every person's life.

Colton did his best to keep the young people of Aubrey Parish happy and carefree children for as long as he could, but the awareness of death was the true loss of innocence.

Over seven years had passed, and only Colton knew the truth. If she had lived, Ava would be an old woman of nearly twenty-three. It made the Sheriff sick to his stomach to think of it. Ava had been twenty-one from the moment she set foot in Aubrey Parish, but it was an age she'd never lived to see.

The thing no one thought about was how long Ava had been twenty-one, how many years she had lived in her gilded cage at The Red Question. The girl he remembers was a beautiful and alluring young woman. He wonders now if she had ever been a child.

It was Colton's job to keep the Parish from thinking about those things, but the Sheriff who'd seen everything couldn't forget the truth. It made him cold and bitter. Someone should have murdered Victor Zenkova a long time ago, not just for what he'd done to Ava, but for what he'd done to all the Avas that passed through the Parish. Yet, justice was not punishing what couldn't be proved.

Victor Zenkova didn't kill Ava, though it gave everyone peace of mind to believe he had. In his own way, Victor had probably loved the girl. In his own way, he thought he was protecting her.

Victor killed Ava the moment he took her off of the streets and made her into the fantasy of a pin-up girl, a burlesque queen, a seductress from an old Hollywood movie reminiscent of an era she knew nothing about. The sad truth was, the way the world was, she had a kinder life with him than she would have otherwise. The world was not one where lost girls like Ava with too much kindness and softness were able to survive.

The man who had been called Victor, whoever he was, was loving enough to make sure Ava lived in a world where her most beautiful dreams would never be destroyed. Either that, or he was cruel and selfish enough to make certain she wouldn't last a week out in the world if she tried to escape.

Colton's hands open the envelope, shaking as he pulls out a small sheaf of papers. There are endless words, numbers, columns. His eyes scan for the sections written in bold. He is familiar with the words, the well-worn pages passing through his hands more times than he could count.

Initial examination indicated deceased had defensive wounds consistent with a physical struggle. Signs of recent sexual intercourse apparent. Presence of trace amounts of blood and skin cells beneath the nails of the deceased suggest a need for DNA testing. Non-lethal amounts of opiates, alcohol, and depressants found within the system of the deceased. Levels of toxins in the body are unlikely to have caused a situation allowing for death by suicide. However, it is impossible to determine whether the death in question is accidental, a death by misadventure, or homicide. Advise to close the case with determination of Death Of Unknown Causes.

Basic tests performed upon the deceased showed the presence of DNA samples from four separate individuals, at varying times within a twenty-four hour period. It is recommended the samples left within the body of the deceased be compared with blood and skin cells left under the fingernail clippings procured. Evidence samples may be too small for definitive results. DNA samples for the following individuals should be compared to one another as well as against the DNA of the deceased for evidence of familial relation. The possibility of finding a suspect match exists although without a body, proof of homicide or forcible sexual assault is unlikely.

Colton flips to the last page, the one that had taken seven years of covert testing, bribery, and simple hope to get to.

"DNA analysis shows a match between the samples to be in the ratio of one to every one million individuals. The more extensive tests ordered eliminate other suspects within the familial line. DNA match 99.2% positive."

"More thorough testing of the blood of the deceased provides conclusive evidence of normal lung function and oxygen deprivation. Aspiration of fluid cannot be proven without physical examination of the body. However, sufficient evidence of cerebral anoxia is sufficient to definitively conclude cause of death and to rule out suicide as a possible nature of death.

At the bottom of the sheaf of pages that is the history of the futile attempt to find out the truth, a note is scrawled.

"Dear Sheriff Ormond:

Cold cases can be difficult on all. Your determination has gotten the closest thing possible to closure. Further testing is not advised as it is unlikely to reveal anything new. Pathology can only reveal so much. Though this case is largely circumstantial and death by misadventure cannot be ruled out, preliminary defensive injuries and bruising consistent with forcible sexual assault make it unlikely.

Sufficient evidence exists to formally change the nature of this case to an open homicide investigation. Sufficient evidence exists for an arrest warrant to be issued in this case. However, given the age and personal history of the victim, it is ill-advised. Given the fact she is deceased, a conviction is unlikely. It is best to consider this a win, if there is any winning in this situation.

We hope the families of both the victim and suspect find peace.

Congratulations, Sheriff Ormond. Case closed.

Signed,
Dr. Gregory Carter, MD "

Subject: Avendon, Ava
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Approximate Age At Death: 16-17 years
Cause Of Death: Cardiac arrest, secondary effect of asphyxiation by drowning
Nature Of Death: Homicide
Case Status: Closed.

Colton puts his head on the papers as if a heavy burden has been lifted. "Happy Birthday, Ava. I know it's not for another week, but consider this an early present. I'm sorry it was the best I can do. I would love the world to know the truth, but sometimes truths hurt more than they help."

He didn't expect the tears that ended up leaving splotches on the paper. Keegan wasn't the only one who would never forget the girl, and would never forget to weep for her.

Colton feels a little like an idiot, crying and talking to a girl who has been long dead. Just in case he is wrong about things and Brian is right, he wants Ava to know she wasn't forgotten. He wishes he were the kind of man who could believe somewhere, an angel of a girl is smiling at him with big green eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ava. I'm sorry I never helped you the way you needed. I'm sorry I never saw the truth. I like to think I'm a good person who helps people live better lives, but you never forget the ones you fail. I should have believed you. I hope you know people always get what they deserve in the end. You were too kind to find any joy in that, but damned if it don't make me feel better." "

Wiping tears away, he puts Ava's file away. There is a moment of stillness, and then the Sheriff pauses to look up again. "The doctors tell us my Zia is going to come see you soon. She's a real nice lady and a great mother. The way Keegan looks at you, that's how I've looked at her every day. I'm not even sure she knows it." 

The Sheriff breathes in, trying to keep emotion contained. "She's leaving us too early, just like you did. Maybe you could look out for her, be her friend. She always wanted a daughter." The tears fall faster than the Sheriff expected. He didn't know how much sadness he carried with him, decades of sadness and loss and shouldering the burdens of the Parish. Now that he didn't have to worry about Ava anymore, there is room for grief

"Tell her everything that happened, Ava. Even tell her all about me, if you want to. She will believe you. I promise. It's going to be a really long time before you find each other again, but wait for Keegan. He's a good boy and he loves you more than anything ever put on the Earth. He hasn't lived since the day you died. Maybe somehow, you could let him know it's alright? Send him a sign, if any of all that is real. Hell, I'm talking to the air for all I know."

Colton puts his head on his briefcase, the final lament of the tired and overworked Sheriff before he went back to work. "I'm an old man, Ava, and Zia won't have to wait as long for me. Please take care of her until I get there. I promise I'll look after Keegan for you."

Standing up, Colton wipes his face with his arm and closes the briefcase, letting out a sigh. "Oh, one more thing. Ava, if there is a place that's like Heaven or something, please don't tell Brian. He'll never shut up about bein' right. But for your sake and for Zia's, I hope there is."

He understands now why Brian talks to invisible people and says prayers to what looks like an empty blue sky. It's a way to keep from breaking.

One truth down, two more to go.

Colton chuckles wryly to himself, wondering if he'd started with the most difficult one to handle, or the easiest.

As Colton dries his eyes, across town at Mudbugs, Eleni feels the sting of tears she cannot shed. Chance comes out of the kitchen with the application, but seeing the kind of intensity lurking between Eleni and the strange woman, he watches from the shadows.

Eleni turns her lips upward in a moment of amusement, and stares the woman in the eyes, not letting go of her hand, nor reacting in the slightest. "I should admit you favour me a bit, but I could not possibly be your mother. I think you are a bit upset at the wrong person. I should be offended, yes? I do not look like a woman past forty." Eleni's gaze fixes on the girl, but behind the kind words, there is an edge of warning. Eleni is not one to play games. "Have a drink, mon cher, it's been a long day. Some days are like that, even if they've barely started."

The young woman with the fierce blue eyes and delicate fingers kept a tight grip on Eleni's possibly broken hand while she watched her. "Oh no. I could not be wrong. I know exactly who you are, Eleni." She then stepped forward so that she was closer to the woman while still holding onto the hand then leaned in so that she was able to place her lips next to Eleni's ear. "Thank you so much for leaving me with that kindly neighbour that rescues young women so gallantly, Maman. Did you hate me so much you thought that's the life I deserved? Or did you just trade my life for the one you weren't brave enough to handle yourself?"

The life seems to drain from Eleni's face, causing concern from Chance in the corner, even if she does not know it. The elegant vampire has little warmth, simply formality and the regal mannerism that always lurks behind everything she does. No matter the pain, Eleni does not even move her hand, nor does she seemed phased in the slightest by the young woman. "You seem to think you are powerful. That phase of indestructibility, yes? If you were my daughter, you'd be old enough to know better."

With the look Eleni gives her, there is also the faint suggestion in the young girl's mind that she needs to be cautious and less aggressive in dealing with a stranger she knows nothing about. Eleni doesn't need to see anything about the woman to know what she is thinking, not when she implanted the thought.

"You could not be wrong?" Eleni hisses back in the girl's ear. "You could not possibly be right. My youngest daughter would have died quite a long time ago and I was never able to have more children after her. Childbirth takes a toll on a woman and we are only given so many."  Eleni's eyes are daggers, the weapon with which she has such skill. "Do not speak of what you do not know, especially in this town, or you might find yourself somewhere else entirely."

Eleni's tone is even but self-assured, though she is slightly taken aback at the girl's last statement. She struggles not to acknowledge it. "Whoever left you where, I am glad they were indeed kind." It is difficult to tell if Eleni's comment is from kindness or meant to wound, as she shows little emotion.

Like a deflated balloon, the chestnut-haired woman seems to calm down, although she didn't let go of Eleni's hand entirely. "Madame la Duchesse, do you not know your daughter lives? Right here. Right in front of you. Look, Eleni." The fire and strength return to the girl again, and Eleni actually cries out from the touch carries. It is a moment of weakness of which she feels ashamed.

Eleni simply remains stoic, letting the girl continue her vicious rant. "Or perhaps you have forgotten about her. I mean, you left her with the neighbour quite some time ago. Actually, let me correct myself. You abandoned  her to the care of that man quite some time ago, as soon as you realised the price he expected for rescuing damsels in distress. Two year-old children grow up, Eleni, and looking like you is no advantage when they do. "

She steps back and lets Eleni's hand go. "Does the name Odelie Yvonne Vigneron ring a bell at all? Perhaps you have forgotten your own daughter's name. You did leave her to become your sister as much as your daughter, after all. Do you remember your other children, Madame Eleonore? Do you care to know they live?"

Eleni's face is not angry, simply pale and blank, before it becomes genuinely taken aback. A flicker of recognition moves through her eyes. "Odelie?" She whispers, her voice lapsing into French. "Odelie, mon petit cygne. Comme tu es belle! Ça me rend fier." <<My little swan, how beautiful you are. It does me proud. >>

Eleni does not let go of the girl's hand, but she notices the lack of warmth in it, the pale skin much like her own. "I never forgot. I had to leave everything in the dead of night, and lived like a newborn cast out. The price for my life was to become another vicious man's wife and property---and other things. He would have owned me. He would have had the power to destroy me the first time I displeased him, and you would not have a mother now. "

Her eyes cast a dark shadow upon her face. "You are a woman, surely that you must understand. I left you in the arms of a nursemaid and thought you would be safe and well-kept. You were more dangerous in my keeping than anywhere else once I was changed. He was looking for me, the police were looking for me, and newborns are not above noticing the heartbeat of a child. " Eleni's voice softens a bit. "I left you to keep you safe, Odelie."

Odelie watches the expression appearing on the other woman's face. Her blue eyes never leave the woman's face as she let her hand go limp in Eleni's. She was easily able to understand the French and was about to respond before her gaze narrowed. "You left to become another man's wife and property regardless. You left your daughter with a complete stranger to her, even if you did call him Sire. You left her with a man that even one like you was afraid to kill, only to marry again. What did you become, Maman? An Archduchess in Austria? A Principessa in Italy? Whatever it was, there was power, money, and enough beautiful things to quell your misery and soothe the memories of your lost children."

The bitterness in Odelie's voice has a twisted quality, but unlike Eleni's usually expressive tone, Odelie is murderously quiet with her words. "I may be a woman, Maman, but I do not understand and I highly doubt I ever will." It is at that she lets out a harsh, dry laugh. "A nursemaid? You thought you left me with a nursemaid where I would be safe and well-kept? It is hard to imagine the beautiful Madame Eleonore ever being so naive and ignorant as that." Odelie's head shakes in disbelief.

"Oh,I suppose you could say I was safe. The nursemaid did not last for long. I do not really remember her. She went with us when we fled, but I was torn from her soon enough. I was torn from anyone who tried to love me, you know." Odelie shrugs nonchalantly. "I believe her body ended up somewhere in the forest. I heard screams one night, and knew it was just the same as with you. He was taking a new wife, but she didn't have the benefit of your looks or charm or wealth. The world was indifferent to her screams. She didn't return."

Eleni lowers her voice, but responds a bit defiantly herself. The feeling of blood rising within her was familiar, and her words begin to sound like the jabs of cut glass. "You do not know what the man who saved my life wanted from me. Immortality has a high price. It was either facing him or an executioner. You no doubt remember they were a bit overeager to dispose of everyone. You had some semblance of safety in your lifetime, something I did not. You heard the screams of your Maman as she died, and for that, I am sorry. What you do not know is I lived through the same." Eleni's voice turns cold as she speaks of Eugenie's death, a subject she allows herself not to remember and not to feel anything about.

Eleni takes a few shallow breaths, attempting to keep her composure. "I made the best choices I could with what I was given. We all do." She has a look of pain and sadness at the comment about the nursemaid, but she does not comment. Nathalie was too kind for such an end, but then again, so were tens of thousands of victims of cruelties even greater, herself included. "Apparently, you did end up in some state of safety, although I can say I am sorry for how it happened. I did not wish for you to become like me. It is apparently far too late for that." She looks in the girl's eyes, and sadly, sees quite a bit of herself. The resemblance is not only physical. It is charm that can kill, pain and regret turning beauty into anger. There is no innocence within Odelie, and Eleni is both saddened and proud. She knew the moment Odelie came into the world, she would be strong like Eugenie was.

"If you are anything at all like me, you made your way through life safely and were unharmed. We do not always choose the fate we are given. I was not, for if I had been, your father would not have been a sociopath. I regret you were not either, Odelie, but it was a different world. I do not know of anyone who was allowed to choose happiness back then. We chose life, and that was a gift."

She pauses a moment, and says, "It was the same man, then, yes? He made you as you are. Please tell me whatever became of him was not quick, and it was not painless. I paid dearly for his murder, and it was not quick, and not painless. In my heart, I always knew it was one of my children who had done it, and that made the punishment bearable." Eleni's eyes glint like blue ice. She sees no need for coddling an angry woman who has survived centuries.

Odelie watches the woman who is both her mother and her sister for a moment, listening to all she had to say before the smirk slides over her lips once more. "What did he want, Maman? Did  he want only for you to be his whore? To be at his arm during special occasions then rut like an animal afterwards?" Odelie shakes her head,as she gives a dry chuckle. "It's not as if you didn't end up doing that exact thing, you just would do for crowns and money what you would not for your daughter. Do not think I am too innocent to know the truth."

The young woman paces slightly, tension and anxiety evident in her body language. "Oh, of course it was. It was the same man. The same that made you made me as well. I think I fought better, though." Then she leaned in a little bit, Odelie's words almost taunting. A shiver runs through Eleni. She has her father's capacity for cruelty, after all. Eleni's eyes grow sad as she thinks to herself. Or is it that she has mine?

"He treated me as his daughter for some time, at least while I was a child. He had enough decency in him to make me believe people can change. One day, he saw me as something else, wanted me as something else. Do not think I did not look for ways to run, people to turn to for help. There was no one, but there never has been."

Odelie's face reveals just the smallest hint of vulnerability. "The death of the man we are meant to call Sire was not quick, and it had not been painless. I made him pay for the suffering he had caused me, as soon as I was reborn. I did what you were too weak to do, even though I had no daughter to save. You will be glad to know that he died without his cock or his balls."

The tall, onyx-haired woman cringes a bit at Odelie, and her vulgar way of putting things. She may look like Eleni, she may be something like her, but she does not have her grace and refined way of behaving in public. Eleni looks at her daughter with a flame burning behind her blue eyes, and does not mince words, "Not only his, but others. Do not think he did not tell me exactly what he intended to do to me or where his hands wandered as he made me what I am. Yet, I obeyed because life is life, however you take it."

Eleni sits on a bar stool, beginning to feel weary from the ordeal. A slight sound allows her to see Chance, who is very casually but not all that secretively, spying. She knows the man can hear every word and will protect her. Turning to Odelie, she nods her head, and says flatly, "I am delighted to know that, for both of us." She looks at her daughter with a bit of compassion. "At least he had the decency to wait, though you are still so young. How old were you? Younger than me, perhaps." The shadow returns to Eleni's face.

Odelie begins to let out a little chuckle. "I did not do what I was told. I was not pleasing because it would suit me, like you were. I did not obey anyone, Maman. I never did. Perhaps we are more alike than I thought we would. Yet, I would not abandon my child, if I could have them I mean." She watched her mother as she spoke. "Twenty. I was twenty when he did it. He wanted a partner. He wanted a companion that could be with him for the rest of his very, very long life. I ended that long life though the night that he tried to force himself upon me."

Eleni narrows her eyes, the words making the blood boil again. "You obeyed well enough to survive as you have, so do not judge me. I made choices, just as you did. Do not think I do not know what you endured to survive, and I weep for that more than I weep for myself. You are lying to yourself if you think you had no choice. Death came for you, and you chose something else, just as I did. Thinking you did not have a choice is the most damaging lie you can tell yourself, Odelie. It takes away your power, the only power you had in that moment. Take it back." Eleni's whisper is harsh, but also not unkind. Her voice grows softer as she observes Odelie, knowing she is perhaps the only one who can truly understand the unspoken grief Eleni carries within.

Taking a much needed sip of her drink, Eleni's voice becomes amiable again. "Men, they are all the same when it comes to believing they can take what they wish from anyone. Do you imagine your father or your uncle were any different sorts of men? I will cure you of that illusion. I was only 23, barely older than you, and you did the same thing that I did. You killed and you ran. You simply didn't have a child to worry about."

Eleni pauses, and says, "Odelie, my choices were limited. I did what I thought was the smartest thing. I left you with a woman, one who liked children. She was kind and loving, and I knew she would care for you and treat you like her own. She would give you everything I could not. I thought I did the right thing, Odelie. How could I ever know that man would want my child?"

Odelie's face registers a kind of disgust as she watches the woman she knows as her Maman now, and then gives an undignified snort. "Maman, I know well what men are like. I have had many years to realize what men are like. Of course I know they are all the same. I will not suffer delusions as you do, believe in the illusion of good men or love. I have no capacity for love. I only use them for what I need and then they are simply tossed away." She waved her hand a little bit, dismissively. "I was made for our bloodline, Maman. I am good at it. Unlike you, I am untroubled by feelings. I do not need admiration like humans need air."

Odelie's tone is cold, but she no longer seems inclined to bite Eleni's head off. "I did not have a child, no. I do not know what that is like. I will never know what that is like but perhaps that is for the better. When we are gone, this curse dies with us." The young woman starts to laugh, her shoulders shaking in such a way it's hard to tell if she is laughing or crying. "You thought you left me with a woman? You left me with a man, Maman, before you found yourself a new one."

Eleni sighs a bit as she tilts her head and replies evenly, "For that, I am sorry. I was young enough to assume a man such as that would ignore a crying child. I believed the nursemaid who held you as I died would be a mother to you. Perhaps that was naive, but it was truly what I thought. I have thought of you, Odelie. In my mind, you grew up as a lovely woman, lived fifty or sixty years, and died long ago. It never crossed my mind that you...did not."

Eleni nods her head almost serenely as she listens to her daughter's anger, and says, "Good. Life has taught you well, and I am proud that all my children are intelligent. That many years ago, a female child, no matter how privileged, was going to exist to end up with a man. It did not matter what the circumstances---and they are all either cruel, foolish, indifferent, or impotent. It is better that you were given your freedom and your independence, and that you took it for yourself. It is not something I ever had, and now it is too late to learn. Being alone is hard for me." She studies Odelie, her face drifting into gentleness. "You can still have children, mon chere, just differently. You do not need a man to do so."

Odelie begins to look around the room just a little bit before she let her gaze settle once more upon Eleni. "Oh Maman, I know that. I am no longer a child needing advice, so spare me yours. I have made children. In France, there are quite a few that thank me what I have done for them." She let out a small sigh, her anger almost defeated. "Once they found out that the kind man you had left me with was dead, I had to flee. I raised myself. I remained hidden, away from everything I grew up around. I had to become someone I wasn't. It made me who I am today, Maman. I do hope you are proud of that. Unlike you, I will not spend my life being a little princess in a gilded cage."

Something inside Eleni's voice snaps as she fixes her eyes on Odelie, the strings of a masque dropping. She crosses her legs in a prim gesture and says evenly, "It made me who I am, as well, Do not think all my choices were mine. I know what it is to have your choices limited to becoming a whore, embracing Death, or facing the axe. I know what it is to run and hide, to have nothing of home. I know what it is to start over, to be hunted, and I know the price for being caught. I do not wear my scars on the outside, but you may trust they are there."

Eleni's words are cold, almost arrogant in their tone, and the sharpness catches Chance's gaze. "Life was hard and full of regrets, yes. Yet, we both survived, and lived well. For that, yes, Odelie...I am proud." Eleni's eyes sparkle like dark sapphires and she sits as if she were perched upon a throne. In that moment, Eleni is a Queen. She is the spirit of Eugenie, and she almost buzzes with a feeling of electricity.

The girl stares at Eleni, her mouth open in disbelief at the transformation. For a brief moment, her face shows a clear desire to kill the regal Frenchwoman she calls her mother, but she then gives a brief shrug. "At least I did not actually become a whore, Maman. Not like you. Solitude makes a woman respectable, something you will never know." She looks down upon Eleni's small figure, before offering a brief smirk. "I was able to find something much better for myself than being a possession passed around the globe. I will never be as wealthy, and never sit on any throne, but I can face the mirror. I am one of the only ones of our kind who can."

Everything is brutally silent, except for the light sound of Eleni standing and finishing her drink. With now soundless clicks of her heels, the imposing vampire moves closer to Odelie. Even before the girl can blink, Eleni raises her hand and slaps her daughter across the face. Eleni is not aware of how much strength went into the gesture until Odelie goes flying across the room, and Chance makes his presence known.

Eleni can barely speak, but when she does, she oozes venom "How dare you, you ungrateful little self-centred bitch? I have never been anyone's whore, and you are so much more like me than you will ever know." Her eyes flash angrily. "I am curious what it is you think is so much better. One day, you will explain how you spent 230 years on the planet thinking whatever you are is somehow better than what I am. But correct your thinking, my lovely daughter, for you are nothing better nor different from me. La Morte Enchantee, though nothing too enchanting to my eyes. "

With that, Eleni walks out of the bar, her head held abnormally high, heading home.