Walking silently to the park that she had heard so much about, a shadowed 'girl' slowly paced herself along the streets that led to the park. Numerous things had led her here, but her goal was singular. Many rumors had been told to her in all of her searching, that there was an ancient vampire here, one by the name of Marcus. Perhaps, this could have been a joke played on her... or perhaps, it could have been a 'different' Marcus that they had been speaking of. But to her, it was worth checking. It had been nearly a millenia and a half since she had last seen him, and for all she knew, he was dead.

Ironically, she knew that Marcus thought she was dead as well. It hurt her greatly, knowing that he didn't know what truly happened to her. It hurt more than the fact that she hadn't seen him for so long. But for some strange reason, she knew he was here. She felt it. Her mind sensed the power of another such as herself, an ancient just as the rumors she heard had said. Yet, this power she felt was more powerful than even her, which raised her level of hope even further. Not many were as old as her... even if she appeared to be a young woman of maybe nineteen years of age. Her appearance had always fooled everyone...

Regardless of her appearance though, she walked through the falling rain, reaching the park that strangely she had been searching for, for nearly a third of her life. Where...? Where did she start? She wanted to scream his name aloud, but others were around. That would have been strange to hear. Closing her eyes, she blocked out all other thoughts, and projected her thoughts loudly so that only the other power here could hear her.

'Marcus...! Are you here...? Please come out...'

Surrounded by the warming glow of candles, a violin sang to the earthen walls of the Amman coven house. Its player, bent to the music muted to mortal ear by the metres of dirt and roots above him, drew the bow across the strings like a lover's caress. His eyes were closed, his concentration and soul on the forming of a tune that spoke like words. Words...

'Marcus...! Are you here...? Please come out...'

The instrument dropped as gray-green eyes flew open in surprise. Marcus glanced apologetically at his fallen friend, gleaming mahogany on the crimson carpet, and then swiftly made for the winding staircase opposite to his current position in the room. As he climbed the steps, moving faster than the drifting smoke from the many candles, his thoughts were racing quicker than he. That voice, the desperate tone in his mind's ear, had awoken memories of a past only visited in his memory on an annual basis, the specific date of such recollections being that of a sister's death.

Earth became plaster beneath his bare feet, and soon he was forced to all fours in order to crawl across a horizontal space shrouded in complete darkness. He sensed the end of the cramped passage before he touched it, and the block was moved out of place with the power of thought. From an outside bystander's point of view, the back of a seemingly random statue was now floating some distance from the ground of its own accord.

Marcus dove free of the space, and though the jump was made head-first, he landed on his feet in the shadow of the statue. The drifting block fit quietly back into place as he searched the night, his heart thrumming within his chest. 'Emille?' The call was uncertain, but filled with such hope to carry it strongly to the one intended to hear it.

'Emille?'

The voice resounded in her head like a thousand church bells, ringing all at once... it seemed to explode in her mind... A sudden flurry of emotions quickly overcame her, sadness, joy, and confusion all seemed to come at once. He was here. Her older brother, whom she had cherished, was alive, and she would find him here. Furthermore, he knew that she was alive. That fact alone made her feel so much better... so much happier. Happiness was not an emotion that she had felt in a long time. Yet... now, it seemed so natural.

Emille flinched, almost knocked back by the voice in her head. Where? Where had it come from? She wanted so badly to find him, even moreso than she had before she knew that he was here. The fact that she was within a hundred yards of him made the longing grow, to levels she could barely handle. The rain seemed to dampen her ability to correctly locate him, as she was a bit disoriented already from his voice. It had been so long since she had heard that voice...

'Marcus? Where...? Where are you...? I cannot see you...'

Emille looked as if she were about to cry. But the rain falling upon her face created an illusion that she was already... so it was impossible to tell if she truly was. Falling to her knees, she couldn't take it anymore. Possibly one of the strongest of her kind... yet... she sat there helpless, waiting for her brother to come and find her.

'Please, Marcus... I cannot find you...'

'Wait. I will find you,' Marcus called, throwing caution to the wind that surged around him as he dashed free of the shadows and toward the origin of the voice, a voice that had called to him, laughed with him, whispered secrets to him. It had changed, become so much more mature, and spoken mentally it carried an ancient power so close to his own. All the same, despite the turning of centuries that had aged it, he knew that voice among a thousand others.

He tuned out the thoughts of those others in the park. He used her voice as an anchor, as a path through the downpour to guide him to her. His feet sloshed in the wet grass, and his open shirt slapped his bare chest and back with the cold rain that bore down on him.

It seemed an eternity, those few seconds that it took him to find his way from his home and to her. However, the true eternity had passed since he had last seen her, and now, that eternity would end. His pace slowed to a walk as he saw her, kneeling on the ground. He pushed his tangle of water-heavy rain out of his face as he smiled and opened his arms to her. "Emille."

'Wait. I will find you.'

Emille hung on by those words, letting her eyes stare at the wet grass below her. Her entire body seemed to be slumped, somewhat lifeless, yet she remained upright, just sitting there as the falling rain seemed to pin her in the position she was.

'Hurry...' It seemed to take an eternity... the span of those few seconds outlasting her entire life. But.... the next moment she looked up, she saw him. The face of her brother, smiling, looking down at her. At first, she simply gazed up at him, with her 'matching' green eyes, of a paler hue than his. It had been... how long since she had last seen him? Too long. Much, much too long.

Before she knew it, Emille scrambled to her feet, wrapping her arms around her brother. He was taller than she, by about a foot or so, but that mattered nothing to her. Her hands interlocked with one another behind him, and her face was buried in his bare chest. It was totally obvious to any that saw her that she was now crying, shivering completely and uncontrollably. Not from the cold... but from the sudden flurry of emotion that she felt. Her own hair was now caught in her face, as his was, but she desregarded it for some strange reason. It didn't seem to matter. Her eyes were not even open.

"Oh, Marcus..."

Crimson tinged tears ran down the pale marble of Marcus's cheeks, diluted by the heavy rainfall. One arm he held around her shoulders, and the other cradled his hand against the side of her head, his fingers mingling freely with her hair. His eyes also had closed, for to see her did not matter so much now, not as much as touch.

"I thought you were dead," he murmured, his cheek now resting against the top of her head as he held her embraced to him like the precious being she was. He laughed softly a moment later. 'Though I suppose I should have known better,' he added, his mind tones exuberant and gleaming with the swell of light and happy emotion drifting within him.

He was not on Earth, he was living a memory, a memory so crisp and vivid that it overrode all others until it became present. Nothing outside this reconstructed recollection mattered; not the Amman, not the other covens, not even the mortals likely to be staring at them, wondering at this public display of intimacy between two shockingly beautiful and pale beings that were undoubtedly related. All he knew was Emille, the sister he had loved so dearly and thought lost for over two millennia, was safe in his arms, alive as he was, immortal to all harm but the glare of day.

"I am... not dead, brother... And neither are you."

Emille added that last part with much happiness. It was a surprise that she could even speak at all, between the uncontrollable sobs that escaped her throat. Her face, if looked at, now had somewhat of a red hue, streaks of crimson running slowly down only to be invaded by the falling rain.

After all of these years, the long years that seemed to be neverending, she had finally found her brother. She knew that he was alive, she always knew it. It was a horrible feeling though, knowing that he thought her for dead. That was nearly the one of the biggest reasons she searched for him. Because she knew that he thought she was dead. Emille could not handle the fact that somewhere in the world, Marcus was thinking that he would never see his sister again, and that he would never look for her as she had been looking for him. But all of that was gone now, two millenia erased in an instant. Not one moment of it mattered now.... for they were once again together.

Emille's appearance in the rain was somewhat strange, which caused some of the onlookers to stare a bit. She wore an elegant looking coat, but under it was a plain white blouse, which was starting to soak completely. One could see through it if they truly wanted, and that was what some of the onlookers were most certainly doing.

"Let us go inside, and out of the rain," Marcus suggested, opening his eyes once more to gaze upon Emille fondly. He gently tucked a few stray strands of her hair out of her line of vision, and then putting a guiding arm around her shoulders, began to walk back toward the statue from whence he'd came.

Any who might be so daring as to take advantage of Emille's soaked shirt were rewarded for their brave actions with a withering look to send them scampering out of the park and off home. Though immortal and likely quite capable of looking after herself, Marcus could not help but be protective of his sister. Old habits die hard as they say, or, often, not at all.

Emille simply closed her eyes, letting her elder brother guide her along to where he had come from. Her head leaned over into him, her arm just reaching around his back to hold onto him tightly. She didn't care if anyone looked at her... none of that mattered. For some reason, she felt as if she could just fall asleep there, standing even, with his arm around her. It was the most comfortable feeling that she had felt in a while.

"Yes... let us go... inside..."

She said to him, her eyes still closed. Her tone was somewhat tired, as was her walk and manner. But she walked with him, everything else seeming to go away. Nothing else was in her mind, and that was what counted. She could only see Marcus now, just as she had 'seen' him for the past countless years. But this time, he was really there.

Not just an illusion, not a dream. Marcus was right next to her. It was almost surreal, as if she expected to wake up at any moment, alone, by herself... to cry again, just as she had done every night after waking up from that same dream.

As they walked along, Emille reached over with her other arm, keeping both wrapped around him. It appeared to be an awkward position, but it was the most comforting one she could have been in.

Marcus took his time as he walked with Emille across the park, now oblivous again to the surrounding world. The rain continued to patter down upon them, and the world to turn, but they were separate from it, treading the path of centuries.

When he came upon the statue, he removed the key stone in the back with the ease of a man living a dream. The block waited patiently for them, suspended in the air, as he levitated them together to the opening.

'You go in first. There will be a short passage to crawl down, and then steps. I'll be right behind you,' he said, giving her a gentle push toward the beginning of the neatly carved tunnel.

"...But..."

Emille turned around a bit, looking back at Marcus. She truly did not want him to leave her sight ever again, let alone loosen his gentle grip over her shoulder. Feeling suddenly cold, as if all strength and warmth had been stripped from her body, she knelt down to the opening and began to crawl in. Emille trusted him... he would not disappear on her again.

She slowly crawled through the space, enjoying the feeling that she got when the rain did not hit anymore. But the coldness remained...

"M-marcus...? Are... are you still there...?", she said, somewhat scared. Her mind was without a doubt dazed, for any other time she would have been able to sense his presence. Continuing to crawl, she realized that her emotions had shattered every ability she had, adding onto the tiredness she felt, from lack of sleep and the sudden flow of adrenaline she had felt when she had first heard Marcus's voice in her head.

At the bottom of the crawlspace, she quickly got out and stood at the stairs, staring at the exit and waiting for Marcus to crawl through. Shivering, she crossed her arms. She looked quite pathetic.

'I'm here.' Just as promised, Marcus appeared at the exit of the dark passage a few moments after Emille, the soft scrape of stone sounding the closure of the outside opening. As he slid down to the bare step, he put his arm about her shoulders again, and though the breadth of the stairway was not intended for two, he managed to descend into the space next to her comfortably.

'I swear I will not leave you again.'

Emille grasped at Marcus like someone that needed something badly... resuming her position at his side, her arms both going around his torso, head leaned against his chest somewhat.

"..."

Sighing, she didn't reply, for she knew that she did not need to. Nothing could have been said that would have done either of them any good... so she let the silence linger, hanging onto Marcus for dear life. For wasn't it true that her life did depend on him somewhat now?

Yes... if she ever lost him again, she could not deal with such pain. Self-inflicted death would have been a sweet relief, from the pain of being alone every night... having horrible dreams... being painfully tired when awake, from lack of sleep. That would never happen again... no, she would not lose him. But... she had been 'taken away' before... and that was most certainly different. It could happen again.

And that made her afraid.

'It won't happen again, Elle. I will not permit it. The surface of the stairs became dirt, and the air scented with the smoke of the dozens of still burning candles, as well as the various fragrances found within the earth.

'Then, I was new to this life. You were taken during the daylight hours, when I could not prevent it. Now, we are the strongest beings in this city. There is nothing that could threaten our knowledge of where the other is at any time. Nothing.' His feet touched down on the velvet-textured carpet that lined the floor of the Amman common room. His violin still lay where it had been dropped, the bow carelessly strewn a foot or two away from the instrument itself.

Candles burned in a variety of holders in varying locations about the room, the heat from their many flames a welcoming warmth. Marcus guided Emille to a portion of the floor where a grouping of fifteen or so illuminated a flickering halo of light around them, and put gentle pressure on her shoulder to suggest that she sit.

Emille slowly went down to her knees, from the pressure that Marcus put on her. Shifting her body over to the side, she was now in somewhat of a sitting position, with her legs curved to one side, and her hand was used to support the rest of her weight from the somewhat awkward position she was in. She looked up at Marcus, eyes never leaving him. She never even blinked, for it was too difficult to. Emille did not want him to leave her sight ever again, she was afraid to close her eyes.

A smile appeared on her face, he had called her 'Elle'. No other being was ever allowed to call her that... not one. Not since she had been taken away. Hearing that small word coming from his silent 'voice' was warming to her, even though his touch had left her as she sat.

'I... you... you do not know... how long I have been searching, brother. I know you thought I was dead... but I have spent the last millenia and a half trying to remove that veil from your eyes...'

Marcus frowned softly as he settled himself on the carpet behind Emille, arranging his body is such a manner as to allow him to tuck his arms about her middle, and rest his chin on her shoulder, their cheeks brushing. His legs stretched out alongside hers, and as he sighed the rise and fall of his chest pressed close to her back.

'I am sorry I made myself so hard to find. I should have never stopped looking for you...should not have given up on hope so easily.' The quiet thoughts were laced with an old grief, the one he had known for centuries after he had been informed that Elle was dead. One that he had continued to carry deep in his heart, until the present. He had made those who had said to have murdered her pay. There had been little left but blood at the site of their massacre, so finely had he torn apart their bodies.

Emille closed her eyes, pressing her cheek gently against his. She moved her head up and down lightly, rubbing her fair skin against her brother's. Smiling, she reached up to his other cheek, letting her hand touch is gently.

'Brother... please do not be sad... you did not know I was not dead. 'Tis not your fault... Now is a time for happiness, not sadness. Let us just enjoy this moment.

Reaching up with her other hand, she brushed her hair behind her ear. Letting it fall back to the ground, she let Marcus support both of them, just laying back in his arms.

'... But... how did you find out about me...? I woke up the next night in a dark room, unable to move... unable to even speak. I did not know what had happened... as you should not have known.'

'My maker told me what he had sensed, and I followed the path he told me to take to find you. When I reached their encampment, their leader told me you had been traded to another band, and sacrificed soon after. I found these others, and a sacrifice had indeed been performed the day before. Ashes still clung to the alter from where they had burnt the remains after they had finished with the offering.'

Marcus closed his eyes lightly, holding Emille closer to him as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. 'I thought I had been too late. That if I had been able to travel by daylight, I would have found you in time, and saved you.'

'You have been deceived, brother. I was not traded... those that had taken me kept me... and did not 'trade'. I did hear their plot to do so... and it saddened me to know that you would think me as dead...'

Emille's face once again turned into one of sadness, eyes still closed, yet crying now. She did not want Marcus to know what they had done to her... It would have hurt him to know that it had happened. He would blame himself for it, for not being there for her. But she knew that it would hurt him as well to know that she was hiding something, for she knew that he would sense it quickly.

'They... they treated me horribly, brother... I was starved each week to the point of near death... and then fed only enough to keep me alive. They exposed me to fire... nearly letting it touch my skin, but only enough to cause extreme pain... They did so many horrible things to me, for years... yet all I could think about was you, brother. I am sorry. I wish that I would not have caused you this much pain...'

She started to sob, feeling as if all of this was her fault. Emille had always blamed herself for what had happened, for not being careful enough... for not being able to escape the brutal torture they had put her through. Her hand fell from Marcus's face, where it met her other hand, and both of them quickly went up to her pale face, covering it.

'Oh, Elle. Would that I had not been deceived so easily...' Marcus murmured, dipping his head in sorrow as far as their closeness would allow. He sat up a little straighter, enabling him to shield her more with his body, as if by doing so he could erase the old and terrible memories.

With some struggle, he smothered his anger, an anger against a people long dead. He cleared off his own tears, and took to stroking Emille's hair soothingly. 'Elle, listen a moment. They have long been taken by the ravages of time, but we have not. We sit here in a modern world, in the company of the other, whole again where they tried to divide us. My wound at the loss of you has finally been healed this night. Let your pain for me leave you as well.'

'Oh, how I wish I could erase such things from my memory...'

Emille stuttered out those words, through the sobbing. She pressed her body even closer to her brother's as if she did not want to leave his touch, ever. Every day that she had slept, she had had many, many nightmares, most about what 'they' had done to her. But many of her memories were of her brother, of him disappearing from her sight, while she was helpless to stop him. She doubted that they would go away... and it was not possible for her to wake up in the midst of these dreams, for the Amman went into a comatose state in slumber.

'My nightmares will not go away... I never want to leave your sight or touch again... I do not know what to do, brother. I can barely sense anything right now. My mind is completely shattered..."

She slowly shifted her position, turning around to face him, wrapping her own arms around him as she had done outside. Her face once again pressed against his chest, as she continued to weep.

Marcus let his own tears fall past closed lids as he shared in his sister's pain, learned of her nightmares and her struggles. He readjusted his hold on her to accommodate her shift in position, and kept his head bowed to rest atop hers, his arms encircling her warmly as their ancient hearts beat together.

'Then we will work together to rebuild it, sister. You can stay here with me, always. Sleep next to me during the day, so that you know I will be there when you wake. Perhaps my close presence will fend off some of these terrors you experience,' he sighed softly.

'Thank you, brother... that would be the only way I could sleep, if I were next to you. I am so afraid... regardless of how 'powerful' or 'ancient' I am... Please... never leave my sight or touch again, Marcus. I need you.'

She slowly stopped sobbing, letting the presence of her brother soothe her. Over time, she would be able to handle herself... but for now, she knew that she needed him... she needed to be with him. For now, she could not even think about leaving his sight, leaving his touch. The memories that she had of the last time it had happened flashed through her mind.

'....'

She stopped thinking... stopped talking... she needed to just let it all go away. Sighing softly, she let her brother hold her, and slowly drifted off towards unconciousness. She did not fall asleep, but she did just let her body rest. She needed it... badly.

As he felt her mind begin to drift, Marcus said nor did anything, other than continue to hold her close. He did open his eyes again, watching Emille as she rested, thinking again of old times, and of the sudden shift in course his life had taken.

Things would be different now, for certain. As glorious as his sister's return into his life was, it was likely to prove equally dangerous to them both in the future. He kept such thoughts guarded within the borders of his own mind, lest they trouble Emille's rest, as he pondered through the difficulties to be met ahead.

After five minutes of this, he set all worried musings aside, and returned his primary focus to the moment, coming to the conclusion that he should not bother himself with the future when the present was so perfect.

Emille suddenly flinched, realizing that she was drifting away. It was as if she had jumped, shifting a bit roughly against Marcus. He guarded his thoughts quite well, for she knew nothing about what he had been thinking about. After a few moments of having her eyes opened widely, she slowly closed them again.

'... I love you, brother.'

She hugged him tighter, as her grip on him had loosened a bit from the drifting away of her mind. She meant every word of what she said. Of course, she could not say anything to him to show him how much she did, but she hoped that he knew. She hoped that he could tell. Kissing him on the chest lightly, she sighed again, turning her face so that her cheek was now resting where she had kissed.

All the fear had gone from her for now... Emille had nothing to worry about, at least at this very moment. And this moment was all that mattered. Tomorrow could wait. Tomorrow was a totally different eternity. All that existed now was this little world of theirs, and that world was perfect.

Marcus knew that she loved him, as he loved her. He smiled gently and pressed his lips to the top of her head tenderly before resting his cheek against her hair again, his eyes closing with the peace that spread through him, starting in his heart and circulating back to it.

He also felt her peace, her acceptance of the safety that she had found, and the absence of all fear. He let himself drift with her, content that all in the world had been set right again in some way.

'It will be dawn soon... should we not go to sleep now?'

Emille opened her eyes, looking up at her brother. It was obvious that she was tired... and it was obvious that she was hinting that she wanted to lay down, and go to sleep. Her pale green eyes seemed to glow at him, as they had not done in such a long time. For the first time in centuries, she smiled again, once more letting her head rest on his chest.

'Unless you do not wish to, brother.'

Of course, he would want to, if she wanted to. She did not like that, the fact that she could force her brother to do something he normally would not do. But she brushed that thought from her mind. It was not time to worry.

'No, we shall go. I can tell that you need rest,' Marcus replied as predicted, a light smile on his features as he opened his eyes. However, it was difficult to convince his limbs to move, so content was he with where they were. It was only the promise of a more comfortable arrangement to come that finally persuaded his arms to unwrap from around his sister, and his legs to shift in preparation to stand.

Around the room, the candles began to extinguish themselves, one by one, until there were only two burning in holders on either side of a passage leading from the common room.

Emille opened her eyes again, letting herself separate from Marcus. She shifted all of her weight onto one of her hands, pushing herself up from the ground somewhat shakily. Smiling at the small 'show' of candles, she stood all the way up, still looking at her brother.

'I can tell that you do not wish to rest yet, brother. You can show me where I am to sleep... and as long as you will be in the same room, I will be fine. You do not need to rest yet, on my account.'

Sighing again, she looked down at herself, still soaked to the bone. Her clothing was a mess... as was her hair. She had been so excited to sense that her brother had been here, that she had not had the right mind to prepare herself correctly for the rain.

'Perhaps.. I should change first... might you have any clothing of yours that you would allow me to wear?'

'Yes, of course. My chambers are through here,' Marcus replied, choosing not to acknowledge nor disagree with her statement regarding his wishes of rest. He took her hand in his own, and lead her down the passage, walking past several closed doors to empty rooms before coming to a short staircase at the end of the hall.

This, he descended into another, shorter passage, that ended in only one door. It swung open and inward with a light brush of his fingers to its nobless front, and two candles flared to life from within as greeting. They lit a fair sized room, plainly decorated and furnished with only a bed and a closet, as well as a small desk and music stand, both to one corner.

'You may take whatever you wish from the closet,' he said, clearly pleased to have someone else in his private chambers, let alone his beloved sister.

Emille grasped at his hand as she was led down the stairs, glad that she was finally going to be able to sleep peacefully. It had been such a long time since she had slept without nightmare, and those days always ended up with her waking up at the first sign of dusk, screaming aloud about something or another. Soaked in her own sweat, face stained with her own blood, she hated how she lived. It was so good... that she had her brother back, and he had her.

Looking around the room of his, she smiled again. Marcus lived nicely down here... safe from anything that would 'want' to harm him during the day. No sunlight... how far were they below the ground? Far enough, she thought.

"Thank you, brother..."

She walked over to his closet, looking around inside for anything to sleep in. It didn't matter, really, as long as it kept her covered throughout the night, comfortably. And all of his clothing was a bit big for her, but it would do what she wanted it to do.

Pulling a few articles of clothing out, she started to pull off her overcoat, letting it fall to the ground. She really didn't care if Marcus saw her undress. If he wished to look away, he could. But modesty was not something that she showed her brother. Regardless of that, she felt slightly awkward, so she turned around so her back faced him. Pulling off the loose skirt she wore, and the blouse, she slowly finished undressing, and started to put on Marcus's clothes. It was quite big on her, as she thought it would be.

Marcus did not seem at all uncomfortable with his sister's undressing; nor was he so inappropriate as to watch. He merely moved to the closet after she had chosen what she wished of his clothing, and selected something for himself to sleep in, as his current apparel was still quite wet.

He hummed softly as he stripped off his sopping outfit and hung it over the music stand to air dry during the day. He then pulled on a shirt and pair of older slacks that would be more comfortable - not that it particularly mattered, as he would fall asleep when the sun rose regardless of how comfortable he was, but with the presence of Elle he was feeling a little more human than usual, and bed clothing seemed like an appealing idea.

'You can stretch your wet clothes out on the desk to dry. There's nothing on it that will be hurt by a bit of dampness.'

Emille picked up her damp clothing, setting it where her brother had told her to. She stretched them out, trying to keep them separate from each other. She knew that the larger articles of clothing would not be completely dry by dusk tomorrow... but it would have to do for now...

Speaking with her mind once again, she sat down on the bed, just staring at Marcus now. 'I hope that me sleeping with you in your bed won't be too much of a trouble, brother. I don't want to be any trouble to you at all...'

Just staring at him made her feel much better, it seemed. She felt like she did not want to close her eyes, ever again. But she was tired... she had to rest... She'd fall asleep watching him though, regardless of what he was doing. Just his presence seemed to soothe her anxiety. She just wanted to talk to him, until she drifted away.

'Brother... I have so many things to talk to you about... so many things have changed... Did you know that I have a daughter of my own now...? Perhaps, I thought you would know, from reading my mind or what not.'

Marcus paused as he began to settle next to her on the bed, his relaxed expression rapidly shifting into one of surprise.

'No..I did not know this. I only read your surface thoughts, nothing else...' he replied slowly, sinking onto the mattress behind her gradually with a slight sigh. 'An adopted daughter, yes?' he asked after a few more moments had passed. He had no desire to seek the answer for himself within the regions of her mind. In truth, he was wary of what he might find there.

'Yes, I found her alone in the streets twelve years ago. I raised her for about three years... and then I had to let her go. I'm going to meet her soon. I left a note with her to tell her when and where....'

Emille sighed softly, still gazing at her brother. She hoped that Daphne would not resent her for doing what she did. But she had no choice. They both would have been killed.

'Her name is Daphne. She has quite a resemblance of me, regardless of whether or not she is truly my daughter. My love for her is just the same.'

As the initial shock of Elle's annoucement slowly drained away, Marcus permitted himself a small smile as he linked his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek.

'I can feel it, how much you love her. She was very fortunate to have you as a mother, even briefly, and I think that after explanations are shared, she will forgive you. Do you think I could meet her some time?'

'I want you to meet her so badly. And you will, when we meet. I shall meet her alone first. But then you and I will be able to see her. She is a Tarepha now. Just as I had planned it for her.'

Emille closed her eyes, now that Marcus was near her, touching her. She smiled, letting out a soft sigh. It was so comforting to know that her brother was going to be sleeping next to her... The best feeling she had ever had. Warmth seemed to flow through her, even though her skin was cold to the touch.

'I did hate it though... having to leave her.'

Marcus nodded lightly, trying to ignore the warning buzz that had arisen in his mind at the mention of the Tarepha. He sighed softly before asking his next question.

'I do not doubt your judgement by any means Elle, but why did you choose to leave her with the Tarepha? They are not the best of covens to trust with the raising of a mortal. You must realize that you are very lucky that they did not kill her on sight.'

'Marcus... I simply... manipulated... them to do what I wanted. I knew... that it was our only chance if I would be able to leave her there... I had to do something... You understand, don't you?'

She opened her eyes again, looking into his. It was simple enough to control the Tarepha... they were not as strong mentally as she. She did not alter them at all... she simply fooled them.

Marcus's subtly alarmed expression faded into an encore of his previously easy smile. 'Yes, I do understand. I was jumping to conclusions about the manner in which you went about it, I should have known better. Forgive me, sister,' he sighed, tightening his hold on her briefly in order to give an apologetic hug.