Flames left behind

4{Faean}

I rose quickly, sending my chair skidding behind me. The impact was more dramatic than necessary, but there were more pressing issues at hand than a chair. Perhaps I'm stronger than I thought. I considered showing off my strength but chose instead to focus on the pressing matters before me, avoiding any foolish displays that I am probably going to make in the near future.

"No, no, I am not. I am a vampire, just an ordinary vampire living a normal vampire life. Not a... a faean, as you call it. Are you certain that's even a word? Because I'm quite sure you've just made it up." I mentally chastised myself for the stuttering; it was a big sign of weakness."

I observed as everyone became tight-lipped, and Damian's smirk disappeared.

They were dumbfounded, and I took their silence as my answer.

"AHA! So, I was right. You guys made that up, and your all quiet because you though I was going to be this stupid girl, and you didn't think I'd find out your plan. Well, news flash, I did."

I paused, casting my gaze downward, and offered them an innocent look, peering up through my eyelashes.

"Can I go home now?"

No one said anything, so I turned on my heel and began walking towards the exit door.

I kept waiting for a voice, but none came so I stepped out of the room, only a foot away from the door before a voice finally asked,

"And who is your mother? Your father?" I didn't speak. I spun back around and narrowed my eyes.

Ivrolos smiled like a cat ready to pounce.

It's impossible for him to know that I'm an orphan. Well, not exactly, but it's a minor detail. My parents gave me up when I was a child, and I was raised by foster parents for the first 15 years of my life. The fact that he could know such personal details about me is unsettling. Moreover, the expression on his face suggested he might know more about me than I do myself.

"Sit back down and let me tell you," he said. I sat and listened, but soon I drifted off. Then, I snapped back to reality, realizing I had nothing else to focus on except the spider on the wall. It was an extraordinary spider, silver and blue, weaving its tiny golden web just above Ivrolos's head. Part of me wished it would drop on him. Actually, I'd rather it fell on Damian, the dirty blond deity, but we don't always get what we wish for, do we? Now, I find myself wanting the spider. And I think I've zoned out once more.

It seems someone noticed I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind, because they suggested the most brilliant idea. I felt like kissing them for it. Then again, I'm rarely in the right state of mind. Blame it on the stupid ADHD, or whatever people are calling it these days. I prefer to dub it 'boredom', simply because I'm too stubborn to conform to the typical ways of thinking. That's my kind of cool.

"Ivrolos, perhaps we should let her rest. She's in a room full of strangers telling her she's not what she grew up to believe she was."

It was a female. Eh, I'd kiss them either way.

The voice escalated, tinged with what seemed like anger, but it was more hesitation than outright fury. It's simpler to label it as anger, given the emotional intensity behind it. The voice was bold, carrying a subtle English accent. My gaze found the source: Teresa Yeger. Beside her stood a striking man with white hair, his hand gently resting on her arm in an attempt to soothe her. The depth of his love for her, his adoration, was evident in his eyes. How I longed for such a gaze to be directed at me. When Teresa looked back at him, it was clear she reciprocated his sentiments. I hadn't given much thought to boys, mainly because the only ones I knew were vampires—repulsive ones—and they were like family to me. None of them were boyfriend material. What I desired was a man, not a boy, someone who approached life with maturity.