The sun would be high in the sky for a few more hours yet. It was still a little while until his birthday, but Alaric couldn't help but feel a slight apprehension as he stepped from the unkept road and onto the driveway of Santana manor.

It's towering height cast a daunting shadow from the early evening light. Stretching its shadowed cloak over the small portion of forest that encircled it's grounds and kept it isolated from the rest of the town.

Alaric looked pointedly at one of the immaculately kept rose bushes. Bowing slightly to more closely inspect the flower as an act to ground himself; he brushed his fingertips over the Vermillion petals, inhaling deep of it's sweetened scent that filled his nose to burst with it's captivating allure. He paused in a moment of curiosity as he spied one of the dark green leaves, protruding from the near-black stem, had browned to a crisp at it's edges.

He didn't know much of gardening. But knew it was never a bad idea to be rid of the rot, grasping the appendage between his index finger and his thumb, before plucking it from the stem. The leaf crumpled immediately once removed from it's body, and Alaric let the remains slip from his fingers. Watching them, with a small sense of want, as they were carried away on the slight summer breeze that danced with aplomb where ever it pleased.

Mr Santana would still be within his slumber at this hour. Or at least, whenever the rare fancy for sleep struck him; it would be during the day. Alaric found himself hoping that such a day like that, was for today. A sleeping father would allow him free reign to purloin through the library, uninhibited by the threat of a forthcoming death.

The thoughts of being able to attend to his business uninterrupted were immediately dashed however. As he stepped further down the winding driveway, at the very top, just before the large doors to his home, was a car parked on the gravel. It was sleek and black. With a shine to it's silver accents that seemed to sparkle even in the shade of the great house. The windows to the back half of the vehicle were blacked out, tinted to the point that even Alaric was having difficulty seeing the soft silhouettes of the car seats. The front windows were crystal clear however.

The car was not alone. At it's front, resting upon the bonnet, appeared to be a woman. Strong in frame, she was dressed in a darkened, grey, drivers outfit. Her hat rested atop the car as she stooped low to scratch behind the ears of a large black dog who's pink tongue lolled out of it's mouth as it panted against the heat of summer.

She stood to attention when she spied Alaric approaching. The warm, honey-brown, colour of her eyes seemed to glitter with almost a challenge as she bowed her head politely, and Alaric found himself smirking in response.

"I wasn't aware my father had an appointment booked in today."

"My lady thought it best to drop in unannounced. Although she usually has time for pleasantries, she specifically asked they be forgotten in matters such as this." She smiled knowingly. That was when Alaric noticed her scent. It held the expensive aroma of perfume he had no interest in naming, but there was something else hidden beneath the musky cloud of sweet things. There was a small burning recognition somewhere in the back of his mind, calling out to him, but no matter how much he thought: he could not put his finger on it. He then recognised that the scent, the strange concoction of her blood, was not entirely her own.

"And who might your lady be?"

"Mrs Santana." She said with such a finality that it hit Alaric like a tonne of bricks. He was very much trying to keep hold of his cool as he realised his mouth was agape and snapped it shut, before crossing his arms across his chest.

The woman placed a gentle, white-gloved, hand to her mouth as she failed to suppress the slight giggle. She stopped once Alaric regained his composure somewhat, taking on a stronger stance as he bolstered himself with a strengthening breath.

"Mrs Santana has not been here for almost 18 years." He said

"16. You were two when she left." She replied, standing from the bonnet of the car and flattening down the creases in her jacket, before sweeping her hand across the head of the dog who leaned into her touch happily as it shuffled on its haunches.

"You know me?" Alaric questioned stepping closer. Not so close that he was in her space, but close enough to get the message across, that no matter what information she knew: he did not fear her. The height difference between the two became a bit more apparent as he did so. The top of her head just about reaching his nose. Despite Alaric's much more intimidating frame, she was confidently relaxed, with her hands held gently behind her back, and seemingly not at all worried about the Vampire's son sizing her up as a potential meal.

"I took a lucky shot. My lady talks of you often and most people would ask 'Who's that?' when I tell them Mrs Santana is coming for a visit, and not nearly half as many would look as uncomfortable. Did you know your nostrils flair when you're uncomfortable? It's only slightly, but it's enough of a tell for me to get a read on you." It was her turn to move, and she did so, rolling on the balls of her feet as she took almost playful steps to circle around Alaric so that he was in between her and the car.

"You're very forward for a servant." He mentioned, gently turning on the spot to face her with a gentle incline of his head. His eyes glittered dangerously bright in their coy manner, the slight upturn of his lips seemed as equally playful as she was confident.

"I prefer assistant."

"An assistant is hardly a willing one when they're under the blood of a Vampire."

"Only the weak of mind can't retain themselves when presented with such delights. I can assure you, I have one-hundred percent of my faculties and willingly choose to be under the grace of Mrs Santana."

"Right." Alaric replied incredulously "So does this assistant have a name?"

"Eve." Her answer was succinct and tight-lipped. Alaric knew then that it was somewhat of an uncomfortable of a subject for her and could not resist pushing further.

"Just Eve? It's not short for anything? No last name?"

"Evimera Haskett, and before you say: yes I know it's unusual, but my parents were big fans of fantasy books." This time it was her turn to fold her arms across her chest defensively, and as if mocking her further: Alaric relaxed his arms and held them behind his back, mimicking her previous stance. Something she noticed with the raising of one eyebrow as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Names are powerful things. They say some things never truly exist until they have a name. I wonder if that means you would taste of magic and dragons." He said with a flippant attitude. Leaning forwards with a grin, and allowing his low-cut shirt to hang loosely from his torso. He then returned to standing at his full height, making sure to stretch his arms high into the sky and allow that same shirt to rise up from his navel; just enough to reveal the smooth stretch of skin that awaited there. Marked only by a thin treasure trail of hair that tortuously disappeared below the waistband. Alaric peeked his eyes open just in time to watch Eve's eyes dart down briefly, only for her to snap them somewhere else when she noticed he was looking.

"I hope you intend to buy me dinner first" Eve countered, with a confident smirk.

"Ah, so is that it, is it? Dear old mother brought me a prospective wife to sweeten the deal?" Alaric retorted with a clap of his hands. "I could just take a taste, you know."

"You could try." She challenged, causing Alaric to step closer. He approached until he was inches away from Eve, the flutter of her body heat washed over him as his lips hovered just in front of hers. Eve's breath hitched at the closeness, yet her eyes did not stray from his own as they plummeted their icy depths, searching, spiking at the pupils as her heart began to beat in a rhythm that Alaric thought he may dance to. She remained unmoving, save for her arms dropping to her sides where her hands clenched and relaxed in an onset of nerves.

"You're still mortal." He whispered with heat. So close that she could feel the phantom of his lips as they moved, like they were barely brushing against her own. Eve could feel their softness. Like she already knew of the sweetness with which they tasted. Like she could already hear the sounds they would call from her and what they would answer in return.

Alaric froze, stifling a small gasp of pain as his breath caught in his throat. It started numb, but then crawled like thorny vines, sickeningly, into his lower stomach as Alaric found his balls tightly clenched in the vice like grip of Eve's left hand.

Her voice was low as it spoke softly into his ear. It would tickle if he wasn't so focused on the guttural pain currently creeping through his abdomen:

"A mortal who knows how to castrate a man with her bare hands, in seven different ways." She punctuated with another squeeze "They may grow back for you, but I bet it feels just as unpleasant."

With that: she released her hold on Alaric who stumbled back slightly. His face lightly flushed. He would be angry, and rebuke in kind, but his anger was offset by not only the nauseous pain that held his stomach in knots; but also the confusion at how hard his erection was as it strained uncomfortably against his clothing. Thankfully his jeans held himself in place, revealing nothing as he stood back up, however it didn't take away the slightly amusing fact that Alaric had learned about himself.

Eve gave him a knowing wink and Alaric smirked in response. There was an electricity that passed between them as time seemed to stand still over who would make the first lust driven move. Their breathing was shallow, the air thick. Excitement bubbled a portent that the events would be violent. Possibly bloody, in the almost desperation to rip clothes to shreds and writhe like snakes.

The air was split by a cacophonous roar that ripped through the grounds. The trees fell silent, the once playful summer breeze caught dead in it's tracks as it hid in horror from the sound. The dog, that had previously been a silent observer, whimpered as it slowly padded its way behind Eve's legs, and they all looked towards the building.

Alaric was through the front doors within a second, sending them slamming outwards as they rattled against the heavy frames. The silence that awaited him was of his own summoning and he felt the presence of two bodies; coming from his father's study, just to his left, and approached.

Trepidation beat violently within his chest, but he did not rush, shake, or bow to his fears as he maintained his air of indifference. His footsteps silent as they walked through the oak archway and his eyes immediately landing on the two inhabitants of the room.

The first was his father. Seemingly more dishevelled than he would normally appear: spittle dripped from his thin blue lips, and slipped off his pointed chin, as his eyes burned with their crimson hues. Only seeming more violent in their colour against the dim interior of the study; they seemed to completely divert attention from his other more monstrous features.

The other, was a woman who sat neatly on one of the leather couches, a smooth leg peeking from a long dress that was resting comfortably over the other. A slight tinge of rouge was the colour of her cheeks that only amplified her otherwise alabaster skin tone, as if her flesh borrowed moonlight for it's visage. Hair, the colour of a raven's wing, sat in glorious curls atop her head, accenting a shapely neck that sloped down into a deep cleavage.

She stood immediately as the attention shifted to Alaric who still stood at the entrance to the room. Her eyes seemed glassy, like they glistened with potential tears that took all of her years of etiquette to retain. Alaric noticed the lump she swallowed, and couldn't help wonder if it was he who had caused such an upset, or his father.

"The traitorous whore has returned." Mr Santana hissed his eyes darting to the expressionless Alaric who was still caught entranced by the woman before him. She seemed so beautiful. So vulnerable. There was something about him that yearned for her, like the dead and buried roots of his heart could suddenly feel the sun beneath soil that had always been blanketed by the frosts of winter.

"Indeed I have. To take my son away from you." She replied with a tightened jaw, ripping her eyes away from Alaric to look upon Mr Santana who snapped his jaws with a vicious growl.

"You took my heart when you left. You will not have my son too. Or have you forgotten how you abandoned us all those years ago?"

"I left because if I had stayed you would've murdered me or my child, you snake in the grass. So do not champ your jaws at me. I took your heart, but left mine behind so that it would survive. Even if it meant being ravaged for all this years. So yes. I have returned, on the eve of adulthood for our son to spare him the fate that you would thrust upon him" She spoke with complete indignation, and not once taking her eyes off of Mr Santana as he stalked from behind a chair and in front of her.

He glared at her, his face mere inches from hers and while her nose crinkled at the dead breath that curled from behind his splinter like teeth, she did not quiver or back down.

"Perhaps you are mistaken." Alaric finally spoke coldly, cutting the tension like a well sharpened knife. "My mother left some time ago."

He watched as the woman seemed shocked at his words, but an expression of understanding did seem to form on her soft features. Mr Santana's lips curled into a cruel, victorious, grin as he stepped away. Almost as if listening intently to the would be sound of her soul shattering.

"You see? The boy has chosen, and wisely so. He will not leave with you, he will stay--"

"Correction, father. I choose neither of those options. I am leaving for the time being, but not with her, and I am certainly not staying with you." Alaric interjected his fathers lauding as he watched the tables turn. Disgust crawled across his father's face as hope seemed to sprout within his mothers.

"You will stay and face your demons head on, you will not run, boy." Mr Santana snarled, his voice echoing with a raspy growl that seemed to ripple with a base that shook the flesh of his throat on its exit.

"Then I will stay." His mother answered to the silence that had met Alaric. "I will stay for as long as it takes to convince you to come with me, or until I am sure you are safe"

"You will do no such thing! This is my house, my son, my territory!" Mr Santana roared in defiance, his voice bellowing outwards and causing the many books of the study to rattle in their beds, showering the room with long forgotten dust as the dull wood seemed to quake from his anger.

"We are still married, husband dearest. I own half of what you own. Or have you forgotten?" She replied with an almost sadistic glee.

Alaric wasn't quite sure how his father hadn't ripped her head from her shoulders yet. Was it love that kept his claws from her throat? Some residual force of happier times keeping his wrath still. He reasoned that instead, she must have something to hold over him. A threat perhaps.

His world was set into a hurricane within his mind. He couldn't count the amount of times he had wished for his mothers return. How they could be a happy family like Alice. Or raised with unconditional love like Marshal. The concept seemed to alien for him now. His parents were under one roof after all these years, and yet it made him nauseous.

It boiled in his stomach and churned at the blood in his veins, and it was sometime before he noticed that his mother was staring at him once again. Both his parents were, although somehow he could see the spark of silent competition between the two, and an anger sparked in his veins.

"I correct you again, father. It is impossible for me to not face my demons..." He said turning from the pair "For they have never left my side."

A/N: oo boi that was a chapter. I hope it wasn't too much of a slog, and I hope you guys are enjoying it.

Thanks for Reading ^-^