Selene lay in bed, the covers drawn up to her chin, tossing and turning, her hand clutching her marble of light tightly and of its volition. She was dreaming of Pietro. One of the last moments she had seen him on the day he had announced his reluctant engagement to her. An engagement arranged by his overbearing family.

“Turn me,” he had said, grabbing her shoulders fervently.

“I-I can’t. I won’t.”

“Why not! Dammit Selene! I love you! I want to be with you! I don’t want to marry that woman. She may be beautiful on the outside, but she’s like Kyra. Her thoughts are vile. She’s vile. I do not want to marry her. I want to be with you.”

“This is not a life I would wish upon you. Being this,” she said, addressing herself with a wave of her arms, “it changes you. I’m a killer. First Larkin and then Kyra. I almost killed a child a few nights ago! Would you like that?”

“Selene, I love you,” he said, blind to what she had said. “All I want is to be with you, no matter the cost.”

Selene had shaken her head sadly. “I will not risk your humanity, Pietro. I love you too much. I’m sorry.” Selene kissed him and then left, hoping never to see him again. Later, she found out that he had twins. A boy and a girl. He had named his daughter Selene in her honor. Even that could not sway her to visit him.

She wished she had, though.

His wife, Katherine, had killed him in his sleep one night in a “fit of madness,” the courts said. In her rage, Selene had hunted her down and killed her, ripping out her heart and tearing her to pieces. Selene had more than mourned his loss. She had wished for death. A wish denied her.

Jerking awake, her body shooting upright in bed, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead, she whimpered, holding herself tighter and tighter. She should have taken Pietro away with her. He had not deserved the fate he had been given.

Pulling herself together, wiping away the runaway tears that had slipped past her guard, she slunk out of bed, headed to her freezer, pressed deep into the farthest corner of her room—the electrical humming incessant—and grabbed a bottle of blood.

Slowly, she made her way back to her bed and sat on the edge, drinking the blood methodically. Once again, she wiped the sweat from her face. Placing her arm on her leg for balance, she leaned forward and stared into her fireplace’s dark and still embers. Snapping her fingers, drawing power from her Fire Rune, she lit up the emptiness.

Entranced, she stared at the flames as they danced before the darkness. She could never tell if the darkness was tormenting the light or if the light was taunting the trapped darkness. Maybe it was neither. Maybe it was just fire reacting to the wood. But she could never convince herself of that.

Something in the back flickered, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Eris, please get out of here.” Eris swam from the shadows, his body leaning against the wall he sprung from. A look of concern covered his face.

“You don’t look well.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“The past.” Her violet eyes searched his knowingly.

“It still haunts you?”

“Doesn’t it haunt you?” She saw him stiffen and his face harden. Eris’s jaw set was firm like stone, and his eyes looked dead.

“Many things haunt me; I just don’t let them rule me.”

“You also have not taken as many lives as I have.”

“Why does that affect anything?”

“Because Eris,” she says, sighing, “taking a life kills a piece of your soul, and mine is beginning to wane.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Try killing a few people, brother,” she said, eying him. “I do all the killing. I’m fine with it, don’t get me wrong, but I have nothing else. You have Azelia—”

“Whom I haven’t found.” He looked away, his face almost obscured by shadow. “You should go out. You need to feed on fresh blood.”

“No need.”

“Oh, there is a need. Now go.” Something was different about her brother. She saw it in his eyes before he left. The chime of her clock drew her attention, drawing her out from her inner hollow and allowing the semblance of a smile to creep onto her face. Suddenly, instead of thinking of the past, she thought about the present; she thought about Jason. Her smile broadened, but only just. Selene smiled when she thought about his assignment.

***

Tapping her fingernails against his living room window, she saw him jump and swear. She smiled at him as he opened the window.

“Did I frighten you?” she asked, crawling into the apartment like a spider.

“Yeah, ya did. Can’t you knock on the door like a normal person?”

“Where would the fun be in that?” She looked around and finally found his bag on the floor near the hallway. In a flash, she was at it, eager to see his grade, to find out if her existence was the shame of the Reborns. “How did your classes go,” she asked, shuffling through his bag and pulling out the paper about her.

“You never told me you had a brother.”

“Didn’t think it was important,” she said, marveling at the ‘A’ and let the bag fall from her hand. “Marvelous grade.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Selene eyed him, ambivalent. “Very well. How did you find out that I had a brother?”

“My Professor, she’s a Reborn. She knew you, as did my father, apparently. Selene, who is your brother?”

“Who is your father?”

“My father’s name is Michael.”

“I knew no, Michael.” She walked past him to the kitchen and scavenged the fridge.

“Michael isn’t his true name. Reborns never go by their true name anymore.”

With a roll of her eyes, she muttered, “How the times have changed,” with thick sarcasm. Grabbing a bottle of Sweet Water, she poured herself a glass.

“Selene?”

“Jason?” she mimicked.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris?”

“So that you wouldn’t go looking for him.”

“Why not?” The confusion almost made him look adorable, the way it scrunched up his brow.

“Because you look like Pietro, and he hated Pietro.” She finally faced him, aware of how close he was to her.

“How many Reborns did you know?”

“Enough. I even trained a few.”

“Well, you certainly lived quite a life.”

Selene shrugged. “I guess so.” They stood there staring at each other. Her feelings stirred, making her mind spin.

“Why does your kind regard life so highly?”

“Because we miss it. So many have suffered from Vampyre attacks, and we, my brother and I in particular, see to live above that. We seek to rectify it. Why the sudden curiosity?”

“My, uh, friend brought up the discussion of Vampyres. Apparently, one of our classmates was attacked—”

“When?” Selene’s heart quickened. “Where?”’

“Near the city center, at the old coffee shop next to the clock tower. It was a few days ago. Why?”

Selene’s thoughts were racing. That was where Eris hunted. “Did you know the victim?”

“Not personally. We just attended the same University and had a few of the same classes. What’s wrong?”

“My brother hunts there.” Selene looked away, her mind elsewhere. “I should go.” She turned to go, but Jason grabbed her arm and kept her there.

“Why? Selene, what’s going on?”

The words came of their own volition. “My brother can never find out you exist, Jason.”

“Why not?”

Selene looked at his hand before locking her eyes on him. For an instant, she saw the same passion she saw in Pietro’s eyes. For a moment, Selen saw Pietro, and her heart felt like it was breaking again. “Pietro got married,” she began more to herself than to him. “His wife killed him in his sleep. Years before that happened, though, he asked me to turn him so he wouldn’t have to marry her. I refused. His death and hers are on my hands.”

“Why is her death on your hands?”

“Because I killed her, Jason.” Her voice was cold, her level gaze unflinching. “I hunted her down, and I killed her with my own hands.” She watched his eyes widen and felt his hand loosen, hearing it fall back to his side. He stared at her with such pity and sadness. Her heart shattered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“In part, it is. Eris is very protective, and I was about to let myself drown in my grief. A great betrayal to him, even I cannot deny that. He would do anything to protect me…even from myself.”

“Even kill me?”

“Yes.” Selene turned her back to him and headed to the window. This time, he let her go.