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Uncle Soren said. "The book is still missing."

"What book?" I asked. "The one that Mathias was looking for that day?"

"Don't worry about it," Father said, petting my hair. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"I'm a member of this family. Everyone knows what it is except me. I think I have a right to know."

"Hush, Reese," Uncle Soren said. "It's really your father's decision, and he wants it kept quiet."

"Oh, fine," Father said. "You can tell him, Soren."

Uncle Soren rolled his eyes. "As you wish, dear brother. It's a book of prophecies."

"A book of prophecies? Like Nostradamus?"

"Kind of, except these prophecies are not bullshit. Most of them have already come true. The only one who has read the book cover to cover is myself and a fairy named Puck."

"Puck...from Shakespeare?"

"Exactly, my beloved nephew. What Shakespeare didn't know was that Puck was a real fairy. No one knows where he is now. He sometimes comes to see us. He's a leader of the fairies."

"Thinks he's a king," Father added. "He's the type of guy who really would mess with emotions and interests."

"You don't have to worry about him," Uncle Soren said, stroking my cheek. Father growled. "Shut up, Mordecai. I love him just as much as you do. He's as much mine."

"NO! HE'S MINE!" Father roared, practically crushing me in his grip.

Uncle Soren grimaced. "I understand how you feel, Mordecai. I remember removing your arm when Louis was only a baby."

"Reese is my baby," Father spat.

"Mordecai, he's not a little boy anymore. He's a man."

"Burn in hell, Soren!"

"Okay, okay, I'm backing out," Uncle Soren said, hands in the air. "I'm not a threat. I'm his uncle. Try to control yourself, brother. He's not my son. He's yours."

"He was almost yours!"

"And Alexander's. You're not the only man who has ever loved Marina, Mordecai."

"Mine! Mine mine mine!"

"Fine, fine, parrot. I'm leaving now."

Uncle Soren left the room.

Father huffed and wrapped me like a burrito in a bunch of blankets. He rumbled and settled himself behind me. Feeling cozy, I drifted off to sleep.


I woke up again a couple of hours later. My father had left, but he left his scent all over the room. Trying to deter strangers and others who would want to hurt me. And Alexander and Uncle Soren. I unrolled myself and rolled off the bed, cursing as my head hit the wall. Father ran in and lifted me up, cradling me. He kissed the bruise and purred, trying to soothe me.

"Sleepy?" he asked.

"A little," I said.

"Try to sleep some more."

"I'm hungry," I told him.

"I will find breakfast for you. Do you want it naturally warm or warmed by radioactivity?"

"Radioactivity. I'm not in the mood for bloodshed."

"Of course, my sweet. SOREN! BREAKFAST! NOW!"

"GET IT YOURSELF!"

"I CAN'T LEAVE REESE!"

"THEN STARVE!"

"IT'S NOT FOR ME, YOU IDIOT!"

"HE CAN GET IT HIMSELF!"

"NOT TODAY, HE CAN'T!"

"YOU'RE GIVING ME A HEADACHE! FINE, I'LL SEND ONE OF THE GUYS OUT!"

"HE WANTS IT BAGGED!"

"YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"STOP YELLING!" I finally shouted. "Geez, you're worse than an old married couple."

"Sorry, my love," Father said. He set me on the bed and stroked my hair. "Rest. Sleep."

"If you hypnotize me I swear to Odin I will-"

"Hush, son. Relax. Rest."


I finally got up and did some homework around noon. I wasn't sure if I did my Calculus problems right. I checked through and redid a couple.

I left Sarah a voicemail, profusely apologizing.

"WHERE IS HE?"

My father's shout hurt my ears.

"DIMITRI, FIND HIM RIGHT NOW! HE CAN'T GO NEAR REESE!"

Reed Lockhart must have broken out. Joy of joys.

I finished my Calculus homework and started working on Advanced Senior English. I had a paper due on Edgar Allan Poe, describing how he revealed the sheer beauty of strong emotion in his writing such as depression and unrequited love.

Love. A feeling that could make one happy and sad all in the same moment. Jealousy, rivalry, anger, lust. Eventual death in the case of mortals.

I was desperately in love with a mortal woman. Almost a woman.

Sarah was my world. My Earth, my universe. My angel.

Was. I shuddered. I was in love with Sarah, but something was happening to us. We were falling out of love. The realization broke my heart. I knew that all our problems were because of my jealousy, therefore, it was my fault.

Finishing my English paper didn't take long. I printed out a final copy around three in the afternoon. My next piece of homework didn't take me long, either. I had to choose a god or goddess and write about them for Ancient History. I chose Freyja. I wrote about Viking life for women, which was better than in most parts of the world.

"Reese?" Father came into my room. "Have you seen Reed Lockhart, Other Reese, or Torrance?"

"No."

"Good. What are you working on?"

"History report. Now leave me alone."

"That stings, son. But I will leave you now."

"Good riddance."

I finished my homework and stretched my fingers. I needed work. Work would keep me busy.


I went out after a bit to smoke. Grandfather was standing by himself in the backyard, staring at the woods some distance away. He was hugging himself and looking sad.

"Hello, Reese," he said, without looking up.

"Hello, Grandfather," I greeted, reaching into my pocket for my lighter. I lit up and took a deep drag. I sighed as I blew the smoke out. I needed this.

"That shit stinks," Grandfather said. "I don't know why you boys do it. Mordecai, Soren, Louis, and you. All of you smoke cigarettes. It's a filthy, disgusting habit, and kills more people each year than sharks. But I understand the addiction. And your father smokes the most out of any of you. If he was human, he'd be dead by now."

"Well, he is over two thousand years old."

A smile tugged at my grandfather's mouth. "You know what I mean." He sighed deeply. "You and I both know that I am going to die someday, Reese. It may be a week from now, could be tomorrow, or it could be fifty years from now. One way or another, I will die. And I will do it by my own hand."

He caught me off-guard. "Grandfather, you shouldn't!"

"I know. Sometimes I feel like there is no other choice. All of us; myself, Soren, Mordecai, Louis, all of us deserve to die. Me most of all."

"Is this about Mathias?" I gently asked. My grandfather had been forced to kill his adopted son because he tried to kill me and Uncle Soren. Not to mention that he killed my grandmother, Amalia, and for many years was thought to be responsible for the death of Uncle Soren's wife and Louis' mother, Alga.

Grandfather's eyes shined, like tears were filling his eyes. "This is all my fault. Every bit."

"I don't understand."

"You are too young to understand. But what you have to understand is that I never meant for any of this to happen. If I'd never left Amalia's side, if I had kept my brothers alive...it's in the past and I can't change it. And I can't change the future."

"The future is not set in stone," I reminded him.

"Truth, but it has been written, and not by any of us. I used to be a man who firmly believed in the gods of old, and now I wonder if there even are any gods."

A cawing surprised me. I looked up and saw two ravens sitting in an apple tree.

"Thought and Memory," I said, pointing them out.

Grandfather looked up at the ravens, then sighed. "Or they could be here because there is a dead deer about two miles away."

"Or it could be a sign from Odin," I said. I held out my arm. One of the ravens flew off her perch and settled on my arm. "Hello. You're a pretty bird," I cooed. She cawed and flapped her wings. "Are you here from Odin?"

The raven blinked once.

"I don't believe it," Grandfather said, clearly trying not be in awe of the birds.

"Are you Thought or are you Memory?" I asked. She blinked twice. I took that to mean that she was Memory. She flew back up to the branches, where Thought was preening himself.

"I have to go to work," I said. I had increased my hours at my father's shop. "I'll leave you to it."

When I looked back, Grandfather had his arm out, and Thought was settling on it.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was ridiculously busy at my father's store where he sold videogames, movies, music, and console parts. I didn't know much about videogames, because I rarely played them, but I did know movies and music.

Around six o'clock, I was restocking the movie section when I heard the bell over the door chime.

"Hello, and welcome to-" My spiel was cut short when I saw who it was. It was Rachel Griffin, Sarah's redheaded friend.

"She told me you work here," she said, sticking her phone in her pocket.

"What do you need?" I asked tersely. I didn't trust her, as she was one of the original clique who had turned her back on Sarah the previous year.

"I need you to talk to Sarah. She acts like she's fine, but I can tell, and Angela and Honey have noticed, too. She's losing weight, and not in a healthy way. She never eats, she always runs to the bathroom, and she's always exercising more than usual. She never works out unless it's for practice or a game. We think she has anorexia."

Sarah...anorexia? My sweet angel, an eating disorder?

"Why don't you tell my mother?" I asked.

"She knows," Rachel said. "Sarah won't tell her anything. Marina's really worried, and so is Sabine. Sarah looks at these pictures of skinny chicks and she sighs, like she wishes she was them. She's also started smoking cigarettes. We think she touched marijuana at a party the other night, which is so not her. Her voice is always scratchy, and she can't remember the cheers or songs for the talent show. We're entering this year as a group, and she's blanking when it comes to remembering everything."

"Do the other girls know you're doing this?" I asked. She pointed to the door.

"Angela, Honey, and Mia are outside."

"Mia, too?"

"She noticed that Sarah wasn't eating her breakfast this morning when we all went out. Sarah usually scarfs down food, especially bacon and eggs. And then when we went out for a run, she could barely keep up. She's one of the fastest runners, even though she's short. She needs someone to help her, Reese, and it has to be you. She still loves you, you know. She just doesn't think she can trust you because of your jealousy."

Rachel flounced out of the shop, leaving me staring after her. Sarah needed me? Me, her ex? The vampire?

Sometimes, being a prince really sucks.


CHAPTER TEN - SARAH

Angels are known as warriors of God. Some people think that they have no gender, others believe that they are exclusively male. I've met a few, and I like to think that I can identify one when I see one.

When I saw Sarah sitting in To Bean Or Not To Bean, she was sitting beside an angel who had his arm around her. He was talking to her in a low voice, whispering comforts. I sighed. Rachel and the other girls had set up this little meeting for me to talk to Sarah, and here she was, talking to an angel.

"Are you an angel?" she asked. His face screwed up, and he shook his long blond hair.

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Enjoying yourself?" I said, sitting across from them. He looked at me and frowned.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"I want to talk to Sarah," I said. I looked at her.

"We were talking," he said rudely.

"It's okay, Adriel," Sarah said. "He's a friend."

"Very well," Adriel said, standing up. "But just think about your future, Sarah." Then he walked out the door.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"A friend," she replied. "His name's Adriel."

"I noticed," I said.

We stared at each other for a moment. Then I spoke up.

"Sarah, I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

"For everything. You're

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