I followed at a much slower pace. The whole house felt...empty. Even though I knew there were others here. We went back down the stairs and into the door Marcus had disappeared through earlier.

It was a parlor, just as my uncle had said. A large fireplace stood as the room's focal point, with a U-shaped gathering of soft, comfy looking sofas. A center table displayed a silver tea service. To the right of the room was a large window facing the wooded entrance to the house, and in front of it were two chairs gathered around a smaller table with a chess set in mid-play.

To the left was a wall of wooden cabinets, stacked with books and knickknacks. Only, I was pretty sure those little pretties all had price-tags closer to the average American's yearly salary.

The Baroness sat in a chair to the right of the fireplace, facing the U-shaped gathering. The twins flanked her, and Marcus sat on one of the sofas, a mug in his hand. He turned and waved at us to join them.

"Come, come. Please. Both of you. Carly, sit over there by the Baroness."

I did as I was told. What else could I do? Protest? The fact I'd been promised a year and now it was pretty much a wash?

I sat and felt the heat of the fire. It didn't make me comfortable, or uncomfortable. But I did like the crack and pop of it as it flickered and thrived.

"Carly," the Baroness said as she set her own cup on the table. "I know you have questions, and I will answer them. But first, I must ask you for complete honestly. I'm not here to judge you, nor am I here to punish you. Is that clear?"

I nodded as Jared sat on the sofa closest to Marcus. He looked irritated and kept his gaze focused away from me.

"Good. Now..." and she looked directly at me. "Are you still in contact with the Ghoul?"

I hesitated and her left eyebrow arched. I cleared my throat. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Because you know I can hear you when you speak. I can't understand the conversation because it's not directed at me, but my Wyndham blood does allow me to know. It's much like...hearing a conversation from far away. You can recognize the voices but not what they say. So," she clasped her hands in her lap. "Is he being treated well?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. He sounds like he's in pain...and knowing Michel...I think Craft's going to suffer."

"He disobeyed his Maker."

"But that's not his fault-"

Her hand shot up so fast it was if it'd been in front of her all along. I felt my throat close and I couldn't speak. "The truth as we shall write it girl, is that he disobeyed his Maker for his attraction to you, as well as the loyalty his blood feels for the Wyndham House. Do you understand?"

I tried to speak but couldn't. I started to nod-but then couldn't. No. I didn't understand and shook my head head.

Suddenly my throat was clear again and I gasped for air. With my hand on my neck I glared at her. "Why...why are we lying? Why is Craft meant to suffer for something that's not his fault?"

"Because that's the way it has to be, Carly. There are absolutes living as a Wyndham. And this is one of them. The Ghoul's blood is itself a prize to be kept alive, even if the mind itself is broken."

What the h.e.l.l? I didn't like the way that sounded. I looked at Jared and for the first time since we'd come into this house his expression wasn't a scowl, but a question.

And the Baroness looked over at him. "Jared?"

"Baroness..." he said slowly. "I've been with the Wyndham blood for quite a long time, but this is the first I've heard of that Ghoul's-of any Ghoul's blood-as being protected."

"Ghouls serve many purposes, Jared," she said. The twins exchanged glances but said nothing. "Sometimes it was to preserve a certain inherent trait worthy of a long life-something that was meant to be bred into future Houses. A Ghoul's creation is also meant to be a prison, punishment, and on occasion, a reward."

"Reward?"

"Long life, strength, blood gifts-all without the deathly lull of the sun or any of the other ravages that curse our race. A Ghoul is not touched by the gravity of the moon and stars, nor are they afflicted with inability to ingest food. They retain all their mortal physical attributes. It's a half-way existence. And in exchange for this, some Ghouls choose to be subservient and live quite well as keepers."

She meant majordomos to their Makers. The ones in charge of the mundane. The face that was shown to the world.

The Baroness looked at me. "It is true that Craft Hood did not choose this for himself-it was forced upon him by his brother. The story is a long and abusive one, and not the topic of this evening's discussion. Just be aware, Carly, that what I have said is what the Babineaux accept and understand. It is merely his blood, and he was on orders to protect you."

I tried not to give her the sarcastic tone I wanted to. I think it came out worse. "Which means Michel can still hurt him."

"Yes."

"And there's nothing you can do to stop it."

"Why should I?"

I blinked just before my jaw hit the floor. When I leaned forward in my seat, I saw the twins flinch. "Wh-what? Why wouldn't you? Craft treated me well, he kept me safe, he did what he was supposed to."

"No, he didn't. By not responding to his Maker he broke rules." Then she took in a deep breath and sighed. "Carly-you really should have studied more on the creation of Ghouls and their purpose in our society. Craft is what he is. And he's been this way for a very long time. He has served the Babineaux House well, but he is still subject to their rules. Michel will not destroy him-he won't kill his brother. He is under strict orders not to."

"But he will hurt him."

"You shouldn't worry about that. Right now, you have more important problems."

I rubbed at my face with both hands and then pulled my hair back. "Like what? Knowing what the rules are in my new home?"

"Yes, and figuring out what to do about Brandon Fleetwood."

I looked at her. "What do you mean do about?"

"He's in the den, insisting he has to see you."

I stood at the door of the den. The room was actually in the other wing of the house and I'd ran all the way there.

And stopped right where I was. I knew I'd already waisted five minutes hesitating, but I thought I'd take some time to gather my thoughts.

Sadly, nothing came to mind.

After a few deep breaths, I turned the k.n.o.b and opened the door.

Soap, aftershave, and human blood. I heard his heart beating so strong. He was okay from the accident. Up and walking around.

Brandon stood at the fireplace. This room was styled a lot like the parlor, only the walls were built in book shelves filled with hard backs. Encyclopedias, cla.s.sics, tomes of knowledge littered the room. Another chess set decorated a low coffee table between two sofas in front of the fire place. And a desk with a modern computer sat to the left near the window.

He turned when I cleared my throat. He was dressed in jeans, a nice white shirt, a green hoodie and a long pea coat. His hair hung in small curls over his face and I noticed there was no smile when he faced me. A few bruises and a cut along his left eye marred his face. "Carly."

"Brandon."

"I uh..." he cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Heather...told me where you were."

"Heather? How did she know I was here?"

"I don't know. I called her...just to see if she'd seen you or your brother, and she kind of," he waved in the air a bit with his hand. "Well you know Heather. I got an earful about your brother telling her you'd moved." He looked at everything...but me. "From there I just kinda...googled. So...this is your house."

"No."

"It's your family's house?"

"It's one of them, yes."

"So you are rich."

"No."

He finally looked at me. "Carly, either you are rich or you aren't."

"Define rich," I said as I moved closer and stood just behind one of the sofas. "Rich can mean in spirit but not material things."

"Your family has a lot of money."

"It's an old family."

He nodded. "Yeah, I sort of got that. Did a little research."

"Yes, Google is a wonderful thing," Okay this was getting on my nerves. "Brandon I-"

But he pulled a hand from his pocket and held it up, successfully silencing me. "Let me speak, okay? I haven't thought about anything else since I woke up."

I nodded and stayed where I was.

He licked his lips. "You...you're not human, are you?"

d.a.m.n. He remembered it. I had hoped he wouldn't. But there was no disguising what he'd seen in the car wreck. "What are you asking me, Brandon?"

He looked like he was gathering his thoughts as he pulled his other hand out. He held them out in front of him, gesturing as he spoke. "When...when I was attacked, I told you I dreamed about you. I know it was you-you have a face that people, especially guys, don't forget often. And when I realized I'd already seen you in the coffee shop, I sort of thought maybe it was a destiny thing. That and I was amazed that I wasn't in worse shape from being jumped."

I nodded and waited. I had to see where he was going with this so that I could follow.

"But...I wasn't dreaming...was I?"

I remained silent. I felt a slight panic stirring. What he needed to talk about, I couldn't let my Aunt hear. It was true she couldn't read his mind, but mine was an open book. My father had taught me a trick once to stop others from intruding. So I began singing in my head. A lullaby he used to sing to me when I was much smaller.

"You really were there," he said. "You came to me when I thought I was drowning. When I was in pain. The pain was real."

I kept singing in my head.

"And you..." he swallowed. "You gave me your blood. Don't deny it-please. I need to know the truth."

I kept the song going in the background as I answered him. Truthfully. "Yes. I was there. I saw what they did, and I attacked them. And then I gave you blood...and I healed you."

He blanched and turned back to the fire. "Oh G.o.d...then it was true. All of that dream. So Heather was right...you did trick me into falling for you."

Wait...tricked? h.e.l.lo? Heather told him that? Oh h.e.l.l no-now I knew why he was questioning me like this. She'd already started on him, already planned on turning him against me.

What I knew of him was he was forthright. He needed truth and honesty. He hated deception and lies. "In the beginning, when I gave you my blood, it formed a link between us. Yes. That wasn't my intention. I-" and I shook my head. "I didn't really know it would make that link. I didn't pay attention to the lesson."

"Lesson?"

"Yeah, see, Jared taught me-"

"Jared? Your brother? He's one too?"

"Yes. And if this is a problem, you're free to walk out that door and never look back, Brandon. I'm sure you and Heather will make a perfect couple."

I was mad. And hurt. And trying really hard not to cry. In a matter of days my life had gone from blissful ignorance, to blissful crush and now on to blissful h.e.l.l. I wanted to run into Father's arms and beg him to make me forget it.

To just forget it all. He could do that.

I was surprised when I turned to leave Brandon grabbed my wrist. I stopped, my back to him.

"Carly-"

"Just go, Brandon. You're right. I'm not human. And us as anything but friends, or one-time acquaintances, just can't happen. I'm bonded, remember? I can't...I can't do anything more than that..and why would you want to be in the room with a monster?"

"I never said you were a monster," he said in a soft voice. "I just said you weren't human."

I didn't sense any anger in his voice, or malice. I still kept facing away from him, but his hands slipped from my wrist to my hand. "And I was honest. I'm not."

"Will you answer me something else honestly?"

I did turn then. "Brandon, I've never lied to you in anything other than what I am."

"You could have been-truthful."

"I'm not sure how hey I'm a vampire would come up in every day conversation," I realized I was crying then and reached up with my free hand to wipe the tears away.

He pulled me to him and I turned to face him. He didn't let go of my hand. "Look at me."

I did. His eyes were so beautiful and expressive. And open. No lie could hide there. "What?"

"Do I feel this way about you because I want to? Or did you make it happen?"

I sniffed. "You noticed me before you were attacked. So, what you felt is real. It's yours."

He nodded.

"I hate to say it-I really hadn't paid much attention to you before I saw you bleeding." I wiped at my face again. d.a.m.n tears. I wish that myth was true-that we couldn't cry. "I thought of you as untouchable."

"So, when you...gave me your blood and healed me..."

"Look I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to corrupt you or defile you or whatever that idiot Heather said I did-"

He shook his head. "I'm not talking about Heather right now. I told you what she said, and I just watched your reaction. You were genuinely upset...I could hear it in your laugh. Even now I can feel your hurt, and I hate it that I hurt you. No...monster...could feel those things. Or at least, not in my opinion."