My feet land on the mat with a soft thud, and a weight lifts from my shoulders. Everett was right. I needed this. My mood is stabilizing, and my magic feels calmer than it has in a while. Thoughts of Lucien are never far away, but I push them back to the recesses of my mind every time they try to surface. He'll be back front and center as soon as this short vacation is over, but for now I need to let it go.

"Hey, you did great," Oliver says, dropping to the mat beside me. "I guess it's just winter sports that you can't grasp."

With a grin, I glance back up at the fifty foot rock climbing wall we'd just climbed for the third time.

"Yeah. That went better than expected," I say, working to free myself from the harness.

"I can't believe you beat me to the top," he says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

I shoot him a smirk before running off to the other side of the building. The giant metal building is separated into two halves with one half dedicated to climbing. There's multiple climbing walls with varying degrees of size and difficulty.

The other half of the building is a trampoline park. While me, Oliver, Lawrence, and Micah had been climbing, the others had all been enjoying the other side. Walking through the door separating the two sides, I see Annie and Hazel doing complicated looking flips while Cal bounces around watching them.

Looking around, I find Everett sitting cross legged with his back against the wall, fiddling with his camera. A charcoal colored beanie is pulled over his head, pinning his black hair down and out of his eyes for once.

Surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be anyone else on this side except for a worker sitting in the corner, supervising. I guess everyone else is outside taking advantage of the daylight to enjoy the slopes. This place probably fills up pretty quickly once the sun begins to go down.

With a grin of amusement, I kick my shoes off and take off for the closest trampoline. I bounce my way over to the others and slam a shoulder into an unsuspecting Cal while he's mid bounce, sending him flying into the foam pit next to us with a grunt.

I laugh lightly at the look of utter shock on his face, and brace myself for a reprimand from the employee in the corner of the room, but one never comes. Maybe he'll let us get away with more since it's only us in here.

"Oh, payback is going to suuuck," Cal mutters, struggling to free himself from the foam squares.

I take off across the room, using my momentum to bounce from square to square, releasing another laugh. It doesn't take long for Cal to catch up to me.

"I can't really do anything over here, but payback is coming," he mutters as he bounces along beside me, and I grin.

Reaching the end of the room, we both just jump, the force of his jumps sending me higher than I can reach on my own.

"Wanna race?" He asks.

Glancing over to where Everett sits, elbows on his raised knees as he watches us, I wave towards him.

"You want to join?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"Come on. It's fun," I say, trying to convince him.

"He's not exactly a 'fun' type of person. He usually just sits there playing with his camera when we do stuff like this," Cal mutters quietly, but we both know Everett heard it clearly.

Raising my eyebrows at Cal, I turn to give his brother what I hope is my best pleading look.

"Sounds like I'm not the only one that needs to let loose. Come on," I say again, and he sighs in resignation.

I don't think it's that he's not a 'fun' type of person as Cal says. I think his siblings never think to ask him to join. So, he doesn't. We wait while he kicks his shoes off and sits his camera to the side, glancing around to make sure no one is around to mess with it.

He bounces over to the other side of Cal and eyes us both.

"What are we doing?"

"Racing to the other side of the room," I answer, and he nods.

We move into position, each on our own trampoline square with me on the middle one, between the brothers.

"No vampire speed," I mutter quietly.

With a smirk in our direction, Cal takes off.

"Hey! Cheater!" I holler, going after him.

It doesn't take us long to catch up to him. The three of us are side by side when we reach the halfway point, and I can't help myself. As we pass the foam pit on our left, I time my jump just right and send Cal flying into it again. Everett snorts, and uses our distraction to his advantage, jumping into the lead. Cal's muttered curses and promises of revenge trail behind as we race for the other side of the room. Hazel and Annie's laughter fills the room as they watch on from where they're jumping.

In the end, Everett beats me by one jump, but sending Cal into the foam pit again was worth the loss. We all enjoy our day of childish fun, Lawrence, Micah, and Oliver eventually joining us. We spend hours just jumping and playing around.

Later in the evening we're all gathered back at the cabin, just relaxing and enjoying the peace and quiet that we never seem to get back home.

Cal and Annie stroll hand in hand into the living room where me, Hazel, Micah, and Oliver are all lying around lazily.

"Hey, we're going out. We'll be back late tonight," Cal says.

"Who all is going?" I ask curiously.

"And where?" Hazel throws in.

"Uh, just us. We need a drink," Cal answers, his grey/blue eyes conveying his true meaning before glancing meaningfully at Hazel.

"I wanna go, too," Lawrence says as he walk into the room.

"Aren't you too young to go to a bar?" Hazel says, bewildered.

Obviously used to lying, Lawrence doesn't miss a beat responding. "I've got a fake ID."

She shrugs indifferently and goes back to playing a game on her phone. Once the three of them leave, Oliver hops up from the recliner he's in and jogs out of the room.

"You guys meet me downstairs in the game room," he calls back over his shoulder.

The three of us exchange curious glances, but ultimately decide to just go with it. We all go downstairs into the room with a pool table, dartboard, and pinball machine. Looks like we're spending our evening playing games.

Everett walks in the sliding glass door from outside, pausing when he sees us. His blue eyes meet mine for only a second before darting away, but it's enough to send my pulse racing and a small shiver up my spine. With a sigh, I turn my attention to Micah, hoping to stop my body's inevitable reaction to Everett.

"What are you guys doing?" He asks, sliding the door closed behind me.

"Don't know. Oliver told us to meet him down here," Micah replies.

Just then, Oliver skips into the room with an armful of bottles.

"We don't need a fake ID," he calls out cheerfully, drawing everyone's attention.

When he places all the bottles on the bartop, my eyebrows rise in surprise, scanning all the different types of alcohol.

"Where did you even get all that?" Hazel asks, not even hesitating in her grab for the fireball.

"I kind of borrowed it from your uncle's stash," he responds nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting from foot to foot as he waits for my reaction.

I throw my head back with a little groan, rubbing a hand over my face. Uncle Ben is going to be pissed.

"He has like every alcohol known to man in that liquor cabinet of his," he continues, trying to defend his actions.

"Well, it's already done now," Micah says, grabbing for a bottle of his own, "and I can actually join in for once since I don't have to worry about my father."

Oliver nods excitedly and holds out a bottle of pink stuff to me. "It's pink lemonade flavored vodka. You should try it. It's pretty good."

Hesitantly, I shake my head at him. "I don't think that's a good idea." Me being inebriated could be disastrous if my magic decides to take advantage of my vulnerable state.

Micah leans in close, making sure Hazel can't hear before whispering in my ear, "A little can't hurt. If something happens, we'll be ready to duck."

I chuckle with a small snort, knowing that was his intention.

"Seriously, let loose a little bit," he continues.

"I'll tell you what. I will if he will," I say, glancing to where Everett still stands by the door, watching us.

"How did I get brought into this?" He asks in a disbelieving voice, and I shrug.

"You've spent most of this trip just hanging out on the sidelines with your camera. I think maybe it's time you actually act your age," I say with a smirk, trying to pull him out of that forced maturity he's constantly living in. I understand why he thinks he always has to act like the adult. He's been taking care of his siblings for so many years. He needs to learn to loosen up a little, and I plan to make it happen.

He raises an eyebrow at me before rolling his eyes dramatically. "Whatever. If it'll get you to let go a little bit, I'll have a drink. Only a little though."

Nodding in agreement with a victorious smile, I wave a hand at all the available bottles still on the bar top. He scans his eyes over them, eventually deciding on vanilla Jim Beam before taking a seat on one of the barstools.

Before long, Micah and Oliver are playing a loud competitive game of pool while Hazel dances in the corner of the room to Heat Wave that's currently playing through Micah's Bluetooth speaker.

I hop onto the barstool next to Everett and lean back, the bartop digging into my back while I take a sip from the bottle in my hand.

"Can you even get drunk?" I ask quietly, and his eyes cut to me.

He nods while taking another sip. "Yeah. It takes a good bit, but we can."

The other boys finish their game, Oliver doing a victory dance around the table while Micah shoots him the finger with an amused shake of his head. I grin, enjoying just sitting back and watching their silliness. This trip's been good for all of us. Micah is back to playing along with Oliver's playfulness instead of trying to murder him for it. Everything is back to normal. At least for the moment.

When Katy Perry's Teenage Dream starts to play, Oliver saunters over to dance with Hazel, and I can't contain my smirk, remembering how she looked at him by the hot tub last night. Micah appears in front of me, holding a hand out to me with a smirk of his own. His eyes are slightly glassy and I notice his bottle is missing way more than the rest of ours. He's definitely enjoying his freedom from his father.

I grab his hand, allowing him to pull me from my barstool, and ignoring the slight pain the contact causes. He spins me around and we join Oliver and Hazel, dancing around, all enjoying ourselves. The three of them seem to be well on their way to being drunk. They're not just nursing their drinks like me and Everett are.

I can already feel the effects of the little bit I've consumed, and decide to slow down my already occasional sips. My head feels a little light and I feel freer than usual. The weight of everything has left my shoulders completely for the time being.

My heart starts racing and a tingle runs up my spine. I can't decide if it's from the alcohol, or if it's from Everett's stare. I don't even have to turn my head to know he's staring. I can literally feel his eyes on me.

"I want to get in the hot tub again," Oliver announces. "Anyone coming with me?"

Micah shakes his head, looking a little wobbly, and I shake mine in denial as well. I'm already feeling slightly overheated from the alcohol in my system, and the looks Everett's been sending my way.

"I'm coming," Hazel says, following Oliver out of the room. Micah and I share a look, and he lets out a laugh once they're gone. I'm more than a little intrigued to see where that is going, and I can tell by Micah's look that he is as well.

Once they're gone, everything calms down again since the alcohol seems to be hitting Micah pretty hard. He drops face first onto the couch in the corner of the room, and I laugh quietly at the little sigh of relief he lets out. Not feeling like going upstairs, or going back to the barstools in fear of falling off, I take a seat on the floor, pressing my back against the wall, and take another sip from my own bottle.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the wall and try to ignore my thoughts drifting back to all of my problems. Every traumatic event from the last six months flashes behind my eyes, starting with the night my parents died, and ending with Lucien going missing. I take a large gulp from my bottle, less concerned with my previous worries.

"How are you doing? That look on your face says you're thinking about things we aren't supposed to be focusing on this weekend," Everett says with a sigh, sliding down the wall to sit next to me.

Opening my eyes, I blink a few times hoping to clear the moisture suddenly filling them.

"Distract me then," I say desperately.

"Okay. How's this? Once this is all over with, and all the drama is over, we're all definitely going on a beach trip," he mumbles.

"Why the beach?' I ask curiously, but he's cut off form answering when Micah responds from his spot on the couch.

"Because... bikini," he mutters into the couch cushion with a heavy slur drawing out his words.

Everett smirks slightly, but he doesn't confirm or deny Micah's words.

"Seriously, how are you doing?" He asks, and I shrug.

"It's been a rough six months," I respond.

He nods with an understanding look on his face. "That it has."

"I was always hidden and isolated from everyone. The only people close to me for seventeen years were my parents and Lucien. For all three of them to just be gone so suddenly, and so close together..." my words trail off, not even knowing how to vocalize the devastation I've been feeling.

With a quiet sigh, he slides an arm around my shoulders and gives me a little squeeze. He means for it to be comforting, but in reality, it's anything but. Every inch of my side and shoulders that's now in contact with him, buzzes with energy that I don't understand.

"We'll find him. I have faith Keith can find the coven," he says softly, and I nod along even if I doubt his words.

When he pulls his arm back, seeming not to want to be touching me any longer than needed, he hisses slightly.

"Damn," he says, eyeing the nail protruding from the wall above my head.

Against my will, my eyes are drawn to the cut on the back of his hand. The split in his skin heals immediately, but it leaves a small rivulet of blood that had already escaped running down the back of his hand. My eyes follow, captivated by its path.

He lifts his hand, intending to lick it off, but pauses his hand hanging frozen in the air as his eyes meet mine. His head tilts as he studies me closely, but my eyes never leave his hand. He's aware of Lucien's theory on my aversion to touch being a part of thirst. I'm unable to actually feed as a vampire due to a lack of fangs, but this tiny bit of blood is just there.

Lucien said vampires don't feed on other vampires due to thirst, but blood is blood, right? If nothing else, it would help test Lucien's theory.

With only a slight hesitation, Everett extends his arm, holding his hand in my direction. Not giving myself a moment to think about my actions, I swipe it off his hand with my thumb and pop it in my mouth. A slight shiver runs through me, but the tiny amount isn't enough to really tell me anything for sure. It couldn't have been more than two measly drops.

Everett slowly pulls a pocket knife from his pocket, eyes staying intently focused on my face.

"You've mentioned not knowing much about yourself. You being one of a kind means no one does really. Do you want to test something else?" He asks.

"Like what?"

"Like if you have vampire venom. Doubtful since you don't even have fangs, but it's possible. Anything is possible I guess," he says.

"How can I test that?" I ask.

"Get your saliva on this knife, and I'll cut myself. If you don't have venom, it'll heal immediately like that cut did. If you do, it'll stay open for a minute before healing. The venom slows the healing, otherwise it would be impossible to feed on a vampire," he explains patiently.

With a nod, I take the knife from him, and lick the blade, trying not to think of where all it had been before. When he raises it to the side of his neck, my eyes widen in shock. I thought he'd cut his arm or something. He makes a small cut on the side of his neck facing me, not even wincing, and it heals almost immediately.

"Well, that answers that question," he says, before licking the blade himself and repeating the action. His eyes stay glued to mine the whole time. I watch the blood flow freely from the cut, shifting uncomfortably, and he smirks. "This is probably the worst idea I've ever had in my hundred and thirteen years, but those couple drops didn't answer any of your questions. Go ahead," he says, tilting his head away from me slightly.

I freeze, torn in two directions in my mind. The two sides of me seem to be fighting against each other. My human half balks, disgusted by the very idea, but that other side is jumping in joy, begging me to do it- to finally, after seventeen years, give into the craving I'd always had but never recognized.

There's also the alcohol to take into consideration. We're not drunk, but we've definitely had enough to lower our inhibitions considerably. His offer alone is proof of that. Sober Everett wouldn't have made this offer. He hasn't been distant lately, but there's always a wall between us. He never lets his guard down, always keeping me at arms length since the day we found out I was dating his brother.

I'm not anymore though, and he's right here in front of me with this offer. Lucien's words of how a vampire feeding on another vampire is more of an intimate act come back to me, and I try to shove that human side of me aside. Even if I'm still doubtful about the actual blood, I crave this intimacy with him. The sheer force of my need for it catches even me off guard.

"Better hurry, or you'll miss your chance," he says, pulling me from my thought.

Hesitantly leaning towards him, I touch the tip of my tongue to the base of his neck where the dripping blood has accumulated. As soon as my tongue comes into contact with it, all uncertainty and self control flies out the window. Before I even realize what's happening, my leg slides over his, and I'm straddling his lap with my mouth latched onto his neck.

He grunts in surprise, his body turning to stone, but he doesn't push me off. His hands go to my waist, pushing slightly before gripping me to him tightly as a small groan leaves his mouth.

Some small part deep inside me seems to sigh with a deep sense of relief at the same time desire floods my system, burning its way through my body.

The taste explodes on my tongue, surprisingly enjoyable. It soothes my throat in a way I've never experienced before, soothing an ache I'd become so accustomed to over the years, I hadn't even noticed it was there until it was gone.

When his neck heals and cuts off the flow of blood, I finally release my lips from his neck, leaning back. When I meet his eyes, I'm surprised to find them no longer the usual Caribbean blue. They've darkened to a midnight blue.

Wordlessly, I tilt my own head to the side, my eyes never leaving his, a silent plea in my own. I want him to reciprocate. Something deep inside me screams for him to do it. His eyes drop to my neck briefly before darting back to my own. I see the hesitation in them, but I just tilt my head further, unsure myself of why this feels so important.

He grunts quietly, his hands flexing on my waist. "That's an even worse idea. My mouth doesn't need to touch any part of you." Raising an eyebrow in question, I wait for him to continue. "I don't think you appreciate how much self control it takes for me to keep my distance from you every single day."

I continue to look at him soundlessly, waiting to see what he'll decide as his eyes dart between my neck and my eyes.

"This is a horrible idea," he mutters, but he leans forward slightly.

Then his face changes drastically, and the man that blends in with the humans around him is gone in the blink of an eye. In his place is the monster that he hides within. His eyes seem to glow slightly, turning an electric blue, and a predatory look takes over his face. His sharp canines descend, leaving him unable to close his mouth. I shiver slightly, but it's not fear. The looks excite a side of me that has been suppressed for too long.

With one last look, searching my eyes for any sign that I'd changed my mind, he shoots forward, his teeth sliding smoothly into my throat. The whimper of pain that leaves my lips quickly changes to something else, becoming a moan halfway through. One hand grips his shoulder, while the other slides into the surprisingly soft hair at the back of his neck, gripping him tightly to me. His hands on my waist flex again as he moans into my neck.

After a few moments, he pulls back, his fangs still prominent. My desire quickly shifts from the predatory desire for his blood to something else entirely while I stare at the drop of my blood hanging from his full bottom lip. I subconsciously lick my own in response, and his eyes drop to follow the movement.

My heart beats frantically in my chest, my breathing accelerating. Whatever is happening, is all new to me. I've never felt this before. I suck in a breath as he inches closer, a shiver racing up my spine. My hand tightens in his hair, wanting him to move faster.

Just then, a loud snore from the couch breaks the trance. Everett winces slightly from the intrusive sound, and my heart stutters in my chest when I see the shutters fall closed in his eyes, closing himself off once again. I feel that wall that's usually between us slam back into place, leaving throbbing bruises in its wake. I suck in another erratic breath, but it hitches in my throat, the ache in my chest growing.

He uses his grip on my waist to lift me off his lap, placing me back in my original spot beside him. Without a single word or even a glance in my direction, he rises to his feet and flees the room.

A single tear falls from my eye, racing down my cheek as I rub at my chest, trying to ease the pain. I swipe roughly at the tear before it can drip from my chin.

Oliver and Hazel stumble into the room laughing, both freezing when their eyes land on me.

"You okay?"

"What's wrong?"

They ask simultaneously, and I shake my head.

"Nothing. The alcohol is just making me emotional," I respond with a chuckle full of pain.