I followed Sylar into the house. He led me through the doorway, closing it behind me. I shivered, it was almost dark outside, the temperature having dropped rapidly. It didn't help that I remained clothed in the gown my grandfather had asked me to wear to meet my future husband.

Future husband.

Heavens above, what a day and add to that the control I'd exerted over the packs, I felt exhausted and yet I was sure the worst was yet to come.

"You're cold," said Sylar. "Let me get you something." He looked towards Misha expectantly.

"I'm sure I can find you something a little more comfortable to wear Sage?" Misha looked over my dress curiously.

"I'd appreciate that, thank you."

Misha smiled warmly at me and then towards Sylar. It was easy to see she cared for him. "This way, follow me."

I followed her up the creaky wooden stairway, led down a corridor to a room last on the left. Leading me inside, she went to the wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. "This should be good." She turned to look at me, her eyes running the length of me. "Yes, these will be perfect."

Returning to me she held out the clothes. "Thanks, This is very kind of you."

"No problem," she replied.

Stood waiting, I expected her to leave. She didn't.

Well, this was uncomfortable.

"You look so much like your mother."

I wasn't expecting that and before I could ask anything she said, "I'll let you have some privacy and when you're ready, we'll be waiting downstairs. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm good, thanks."

As the door closed behind her I reached for the zipper on my dress. Pulling it down, it fell to the floor. I kicked off my shoes letting my mind drift to Hunter, wishing I could hear his voice right now and make sure he was okay.

Would he even want to speak to me?

Did it even matter now?

Once he knew... knew what I was capable of... I played the conversation in my head.

Hey Hunter, guess what? I think I might be a murderer or even better, a serial killer. Still think you want me?

He would run... screaming, no doubt. Or lock me up. I wasn't sure which was worse.

Nobody will ever love you, Sage. My grandfather's words repeated.

Quickly pulling on the top and leggings that Misha had given me, I looked down at my feet, wondering what size feet Misha was. I could hardly walk around in heels. Dressed but barefooted, I headed downstairs, following the sounds of their voices.

They all turned as I entered their kitchen. Awkwardly I stood fumbling with the hem of my t-shirt.

"Hey, come sit," said Sylar, instantly standing and pulling out a chair for me. For someone so young, he was quite the gentleman.

I sat, pulling my chair close to the table, so they wouldn't see my knee bopping with nerves. "I'm ready."

Sylar glanced from Misha to Gavin, and then his eyes rested on me and asked. "Tell me what you know."

Tell him what I know? Well apparently, little to nothing!

He must have sensed my conflict. "Just start from when you can recall, go as far back as you can." I nodded and started at the beginning.

Starting with the fire, once I'd told them everything, minus the wolves I'd murdered the three of them stared back at me silently before looking around the table at each other.

It was Misha who spoke first. "I'm sorry Sage, it wasn't supposed to happen that way."

"What way? It was an accident."

She shook her head. "No Sage, there was no fire. Gavin and I were on our way back for you, but—"

"What do you mean on your way back for me?" I interrupted.

"Sylar hadn't been well the day of—" She stopped prompting Gavin to reach across and take her hand in his.

Continuing. "We had gone to the drop-in clinic with Sylar. He'd been unwell; running a temperature all day. He wouldn't stop crying and your parents needed a break and they were also busy packing, preparing for us to leave. On the way back we had a puncture, and by the time we got back—"

I shook my head; this couldn't be right. "If there was no fire, what happened?"

"Your grandfather happened," she said. Her voice twisted with emotion.

My grandfather?

"What, I don't understand?" I looked at each one, their angry eyes saying more than any words. "What do you mean... explain?"

"He murdered our parents," said Sylar. Spitting out each word as if they left a bitter taste.

I froze solid.

He did what?

Those four words raced across my mind, wickedly taunting me. My grandfather, the man I'd loved, looked up to. Followed his wishes without question, had murdered my parents?

I felt numb. Had my entire life been a lie?

I could feel their eyes watching me, waiting for me to say or do something. On autopilot, I closed my eyes. Only my thoughts and heartbeat sounded loudly in my head.

I had to be dreaming, this had to be a nightmare. Yes, that's what it was. I would wake any minute.

As the numbness began fading from my limbs, my skin prickled like tiny needles, stabbing relentlessly. I opened my eyes and gasped in a breath, reality hit hard, square in the chest—this wasn't a dream, I wasn't asleep.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came, and I choked on my dry tongue. There was no air; lack of oxygen descended on my mind in a panic, in desperation I sucked in another breath, burning my lungs with a ferocity that consumed me. Mist descended on my eyes. I could feel my heart beating against my rib cage, slowing every second. Realization dawned on me; I had meant nothing to him.

Pearl had been right, so many times had she tried to tell me that he was using me.

I tried to move my chest, tried to suck in air, but none came. My heart stopped. My mind gave one last sigh. Then I felt nothing. Nothing at all.

Darkness.

>>>

I awoke to the sounds of mumbling, a warm hand holding mine.

"Sage." I heard Sylar whisper. My eyes although heavy, slowly opened to see his concerned face come into focus. "What happened?"

"You blacked out, fainted." He placed his other hand on my forehead. "How do you feel?"

How do I feel?

Like my whole life's been a lie.

"I need to know more—everything."

"Sage you lost consciousness with what we've just told you, I don't think it's—"

"I need to know Sylar." I pushed his hand away and forced myself to sit upright, shifting my legs to drop my feet to the floor. I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and Misha stepped forward offering me a glass of water. Which I took gratefully, gulping as if I hadn't drunk in days. I lowered the glass. "You said he killed them, our parents. I need to know the rest."

He let out a frustrated sigh and sat himself next to me. "Okay, but if this is too much, then I'm stopping." His voice was firm.

"Okay, agreed."

"Our mother fell in love with dad, which our grandfather wasn't too happy about. He didn't think he was worthy of his daughter. So they planned to run away, but Mum wouldn't leave without taking something that belonged to him."

"What?"

He didn't answer my question. "They remained hidden for six years, thanks to the Stone family. Before he tracked them down."

There it was again, another tie to Hunter and obviously how Ruth knew my mother and father and the hatred for my grandfather.

"What did she take from him, Sylar?"

"Me," said Misha. My eyes flicked to hers.

"What do you mean?"

"Your grandfather has been experimenting for years, testing on wolves, and all things supernatural or with gifts."

"And were you one of these experiments?"

She nodded.

"Did these experiments make me different and Sylar too?"

"He tested and manipulated your mother's genes creating a virus, which turned out to be the key to everything—to unlocking the potential in others. But your grandfather didn't know that, or else I'm sure he would never have killed her."

"How, how was she the key, I don't understand?"

"I honestly don't understand the science part. But this virus that your mum was a host for, triggers changes in DNA. It changed me into what I am today."

"So my mother didn't have my gift?"

She shook her head. "No, but your father was a wolf and also a hawker."

"A hawker?"

"Yeah, he could push ideas into other heads, get them to do things, but only by touch."

That was kind of like me and now Sylar.

"What about you, you said it changed you?" I directed my question to Misha.

"You've met the Dream-Walker, I take it?"

I nodded.

"Well, he has many abilities. But that face isn't his real face—the one he hides is much worse. He's a man, beast... monster and can steal gifts, or borrow them. I'm the result of mixing his gene pool with wolves. But only when I was introduced to your mother, her blood became mixed with mine by accident and from that one small event your grandfather saw his grand plan take shape to create more like me."

"What gifts or abilities do you have?" I was curious.

"I have many. I'm a wolf like you and I can control others. But whereas you can put thoughts in their minds and make them think and feel whatever you wish. My ability allows me to transcend their mind. I can physically make them follow my command and I can hurt them physically and mentally. I can also heal others. Hence you can see why he wanted me to breed others... and he would have if not for your mother."

"Can you show me?"

Fear erupted from her eyes. "No. I can't use my gifts, Sage. The Dream Walker might sense me and as far as everyone knows, I'm dead." She looked away guilt flooding her small body. I could taste it.

She continued with a hitch in her voice. "We think that's how he found your mother. They tracked me using my gift."

"Did grandfather not know about Sylar?"

"We don't think he knew about you or me," said Sylar. "And when he caught up with our parents, he would have killed you, but you must have shown him what you were capable of." He looked at Gavin and Misha as he said his next words. "Misha and Gavin raised me. We thought you were dead until I turned nineteen and had my first dream about you... and you know the rest."

I rose unsteadily to my feet, wishing I could remember my parents, the night that my grandfather had come in the middle of the night and taken me.

I couldn't fathom how the man who had raised me could kill his own flesh and blood. It as as if I was following a breadcrumb trail and it just suddenly ended and I was left with nothing. No clue.

Would I ever know? Did I want to know?

Exhaustion, all-consuming both physically, mentally and now emotionally settled in my mind and my body. I wasn't sure if I should grieve for my parents, I honestly couldn't remember them.

A throb in the front of my head thrust tiredness upon me, I couldn't think any more. "Do you have anything for a headache?"

"Yes, let me get you something." Misha took the empty glass from me and returned a moment later with a bottle of pills and some water.

"Thanks," I took one and a mouthful of water. "I think I need to lie down; this is a lot to process."

"Yes, you need to rest. I've put you in the room next to mine. Come," said Sylar, taking my hand softly.

As we reached the bedroom, he opened the bedroom door and gestured to me to go through.

"I'm so happy we're together Sage. We have each other now."

I looked up, he was taller than me. I shifted some hair from his forehead, he still looked like a boy and he was right, I felt a connection to him. "I'm glad you're real."

His entire face lit up. "I'll protect you, Sage, from him. You'll be safe here, no one can find us. And if you want any fresh air or let your wolf loose, the woods at the rear of the house are isolated and safe, nobody will disturb you."

I didn't tell him I couldn't connect with my wolf. That was a conversation for tomorrow. "Don't you think I should look after you? You are my little brother after all."

He grinned but then looked worried. "Get some rest, you look tired,"

It had been a long day.

He gave my hand one last squeeze before leaving alone. I walked towards the bed and lay down. My head connected with the softness of the mattress beneath me, and moments later I fell into a fretful sleep.