"You know," I tried to smile. "You're confusing as h.e.l.l."

"Me? I'm not the one with the strange diet and long life-line," he smiled, and he was still holding my hand. "Carly, I just want to know my feelings are real."

"They are. I won't lie-when I gave you blood I initiated what's known as a bonding. It happens to humans, and vampires alike, when we give blood, and when we drink it."

"Did you drink my blood?"

I shook my head and glanced at the shut door. I still had the lullaby in my head, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could carry it. "No. I...I can't do that."

"Why not? You are a vampire, right?" he laughed softly. "I can't believe I just called you that."

"Well it's the truth. You're in a house full of them."

"I sort of suspected that when I met that woman...and that creepy uncle."

"You mean Marcus and the Baroness." I shook my head at his questioning look. "Long story. Just...know that I didn't bond with you, nor did I make you a Ghoul-"

"A what?"

"Ah-another time. You're your own person, Brandon. And as your own person, I think it'd be better if we sort of ended our friendship here and you went home. Start a new life-"

He grabbed my other hand and pulled me against him. He bent at the waist as he released my hands and wrapped his arms around my back, pressing his lips to mine. They were soft at first. Teasing. Toying. And then he kissed me deeper and I felt the first push of his tongue against my own lips before I welcomed him in deeper.

My arms were around his neck, pulling him to me as his hands moved along my back.

Finally he pulled away from the kiss and buried his face into my neck. "Oh G.o.d Carly...don't ask me to give you up. I know I don't have any right to claim you as my own-"

"You would be correct, Mr. Fleetwood," the Baroness said in a controlled but soft voice.

I cringed, my back seizing at the sound of her behind me. I pulled back from Brandon as if I didn't have control of my arms and legs. He tried to pull me back but I moved quicker and found myself away from him, the sofa between us.

"That's better," the Baroness smiled as she entered the room. "Carly, was the lullaby supposed to block me from hearing? And by the way, I detest Brahms. Please choose something else the next time you decide to play covert with me."

I felt sufficiently chastised. "Yes ma'am."

"Now," the Baroness straightened out her skirt. "Sit down Mr. Fleetwood. Carly you come sit next to me so we can all be social."

Once we had taken up her commanded positions, she cleared her throat. "Mr. Fleetwood, Carly is promised to another man. Your interference in this matter has been tolerated till now. I understand you're aware of what we are."

She was? How did she know already when I just found out myself?

Brandon nodded.

"And you're not repulsed by this?"

He shook his head.

"So you'll understand when I tell you that in order to continue any kind of safe relationship with this family, you'll have to give up some blood..."

"I'm sorry ma'am," Brandon blinked. "I-I didn't quite understand that."

The Baroness smiled. "Now that you know our secret, you have two options, and both of them will involve giving me your blood. One option is to forget what you know. I have the ability to erase that knowledge from your mind."

If there was a visual for dubious, it was Brandon's face. I was watching it, curious to know what he was thinking. I was also wondering that if he and I bonded, would we be able to hear each other they way Craft and I did?

"And the other?"

"To take a Blood Oath."

I looked at the Baron. Oh no...what was that? That was the first I'd heard of a Blood Oath. I knew of the Blood Bond.

"I'd need to know what that is." He looked resolute.

"You and I will exchange a word of bond, an oath sealed in blood, that you will never tell another human about our existence. That if you were to utter a word of what you know, then your heart would stop, and you would die."

He started to laugh, noticed we weren't, and stopped. "Are you serious? An oath would do that?"

"An oath with me would. I could stop your heart if I wanted too. Back when I was young-a very long time ago-knowledge of us would have lead to a burning, or a hanging. Even a burial alive. Neither of them are pleasant."

"No one would believe me even if I told a room full of gothic wannabes, ma'am."

"Oh no, Mister Fleetwood. You see, that's where you're wrong. There will always be that one individual who is listening. That one believer looking for creatures like us. That one that still believes in magic and is searching. Those are the most dangerous kinds of humans, Mister Fleetwood. Those who search for immortality with our blood."

No one spoke. The only noise in the room was the crackle and pop of the fire.

He looked at the Baroness. "I'm trying to tell you-no one's gonna believe me," he muttered. He glanced at me but kept his attention focused on the Baroness. "I can give you an answer by Tuesday?"

Tuesday?

I looked at the Baroness. "Yes. Tuesday would be fine. But please remember, Mister Fleetwood-my granddaughter is off limits." She stood and left the room.

I looked at him. "I'm sorry to drag you into this."

"You didn't. I came willingly. And if you hadn't of saved me in the woods-I think Paoli and the others would have killed me. I'm not sure they would have intended too."

"You're much more forgiving than most of those I've known in my life." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Carly..." Brandon said quietly. "How old are you?"

"I'm...a bit older than you. I was changed at seventeen. So, I'll always look seventeen."

"Wow," he sat down on a sofa and looked at me. "I don't know which choice I'll make. Memory or blood-well no-she said both of them mean I have to bleed." He smiled. "But for right now, will you tell me everything?"

I moved around the sofa to sit on the one facing him. "I was born in 1975. I never knew my parents-that much is true. So is the fact I was adopted. The Baron is my adopted father, and he took me in when I was six."

"A vampire adopted a little girl," he looked a little pale. "Why?"

"He said I was chosen. That I had a great destiny. And because of that destiny, I was responsible for the lives of my family. He drilled this into my head through the years. He raised me as his own natural daughter."

"But you always knew what he was."

"Yes. He never hid that fact from me. I knew all of them. And I was introduced to my brother Jared when I was nine."

Brandon bit his lower lip. "And Jared's a-"

"Yes. He's much older than me. He's also been in the Wyndham Family since his natural birth. But his story isn't mine to tell."

"And that Craft guy-"

I hesitated then as my thoughts automatically reached out to him. But they touched a void, a blackness that I had to look away from. Our connection was completely severed. My disappointment must have shown on my face.

"Carly...do you love Craft? Is he-"

"Craft Hood isn't a vampire," I said finally. Though I'd hit blackness, I wouldn't even consider the possibility that Michel might have killed him. The Baroness had rea.s.sured me that Michel wasn't allowed to do that. But when had that b.a.s.t.a.r.d ever followed orders? "Craft is what we call a Ghoul."

"Ghoul? Isn't that like a Zombie?"

I smiled. "No. A zombie is a reanimated corpse. A Ghoul is a human that is bent to the will of its Maker."

"You mean like Renfield, in Dracula," Brandon said.

I nodded. "Yes. But eating bugs isn't part of the schtick. A Ghoul is still a human, but through blood and ritual, their soul, their physical body, is forced into a half-light."

"Half-light? You mean half-life?"

"No. Half-light. To us, to be a human is to be blinded by the light. To go to the warmth with no knowledge of how it burns. To be a vampire is to be of night. To see in the dark and know full well of what is before us and what is behind us."

Brandon laughed. "You make it sound like you're the superior and we're inferior."

"Yes." I looked at him and made sure my face held no malice or ill will. "Ghouls live in both worlds. They can walk in the light without it draining them. But they also possesses nocturnal strength and agility, same as us. They also stop physically aging, same as us."

Brandon smiled. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"It's worse," I said. "A Ghoul has no free will, Brandon. A Ghoul is a slave to the vampire that makes him or her. They do their bidding regardless of outcome. And depending upon the Ghoul's age and strength, they must always drink from the vampire that made them."

Rain tapped on the window outside. I glanced at it and saw the trees bending in the breeze. "It was the vampire's blood that made them, as like us, it is the blood that sustains them. Without that blood for a long period of time, a Ghoul will go insane from the withdrawal, and eventually as their bodies reclaim themselves, they will revert to their true age."

Brandon frowned at first but then his eyes grew wide as he realized how bad that was. "Oh f.u.c.k...so if you live to be a hundred and your vampire maker stops giving you blood-"

"Then you'll suddenly become a hundred physically. And if you're much older than that, say two hundred-"

"You become dust," Jared said from behind me.

We all turned to see him standing in the door. He looked sullen and withdrawn. I wondered if he'd been eating regularly. "Giving a lesson in Ghoul 101, Carly?"

"No. He asked me about Craft."

"Forget Craft. Craft is no longer able to touch you." Jared stepped into the room. "Brandon, there's a car waiting for you. Good night." He glanced at me and left the room.

Brandon and I faced each other. "What the h.e.l.l was that about?"

I shrugged. I was pretty sure Jared was still irritated with me for s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up our quiet life. The Family was here now, and with them here, he was expected to act a certain way.

What he said bothered the h.e.l.l out of me. Craft was no longer able to touch me. What did he mean? What did he know? What had Michel done to Craft?

"Carly," Brandon said and I looked at him.

I wasn't sure if he wanted me to continue. Jared's mention of a car felt like a dismissal. But I wanted him to know it all. I wasn't sure if I'd see him again. "When I was still a human, my Father introduced me to Michel Babineaux. Told me he was going to be my bonded mate-this was a union to unite the two families from centuries of blood feuds."

"Babineaux," he frowned. "Why is that name so familiar."

"Well you met him, remember? My fiance?"

"No," he shook his head. "That's not it. But, keep going."

"Well, I was twelve and Michel insisted on a blood bond."

"Is that what the Baroness wants me to do?"

"No. A bond is different than an oath, or so I'm a.s.suming. A bond is a mingling of blood. Say if I were take your blood and mix it with mine, then we drink it together, a bond is formed between us. You'd be able to know my thoughts and feelings, just as I would know yours. Any...feelings we had for one another would be amplified though-so it's always good for a bond to be made between two people who have an affection for each other."

"And..." He smirked. "You had one for Michel?"

"I was very impressionable at the time. That someone as beautiful as him was interested in me. So we bonded and he became my world. My sun and my moon. All my thoughts were of him, even though he never came to see me again."

"What a guy," Brandon said. But there was no humor in his beautiful eyes.

"I was human. There was no need. So the time came for me to be changed. We call it Reforming. Father made the decision to be my Sire. This made the Babineaux family upset. They wanted Michel to reform me-but if he had, the blood bond would have made me his vampire slave. That seems worse than being a Ghoul. Once that is done, there is no way out of it. You're theirs for eternity."

"Your Father saved you from this."

"Yes. No Babineaux came to witness my reform, so my bond to Michel was broken the moment it started. It's not...a pleasant experience, Brandon. And not all candidates survive the reformation process."

"It's painful."

I nodded. "But I did and my Father took a renewed interest in teaching me. Jared came to live with us and became my constant companion. We became like brother and sister, and since Father is his Sire as well, it felt natural. I've been this way for twenty years, and finally last year the Babineaux House contacted Father. It was time to complete the covenant of the bond."

"But, you just said that'd make you a slave to him."

"Yes. I will be his. But Father feels I'm mature enough now to handle what will happen. And the covenant must be upheld. The Council wants the union."

"Council?" he sighed. "Like a council of vampires?"

"Yes. It's really no different than say the Amish and their own Elder councils. Or the Rabbinical courts of the Jews. We have our own laws and our own justice. It keeps your light world safe." I smiled at him.

We were still standing, facing one another. The rain had slackened outside and no longer tapped the windows.

"Carly...I don't regret knowing you. And I don't think you're a monster," he smirked. "Michel? Well, the word a.s.shole comes to mind."