A Vampire to Rule: Fallen Empire (UNEDITED)

CHAPTER EIGHT...

~AFTER MY JOYFUL two-in-the-morning wakeup call, which I just absolutely enjoyed, I no longer had ambition to sleep. As of the moment, I am currently standing on a patio in our backyard. To anyone who would visit our house, the way our backyard is may be no surprise. I think it's around a hundred acres? I don't know. Honestly, how big my backyard is, or how big the size of the pond is, or the length of my garden; these types of things I couldn't give two shits about. Though, to anyone else who has ventured here, that's all they see.

The money.

Is that all there is to me? Money? If so, I don't want this life. I don't need this life.

But I have this life. And I'm the only one fit enough to live it.

The beauty of this earth is vast, but those who walk upon it slowly begin to ruin it within. To the naked eye, everything seems fine, but there is much more chaos than what meets the eye.

Humans are clueless to the world of vampires, for good reasons too. Everyday, reports come in of an innocent human gone missing, or a new vampire being formed, or, worse yet, the death of an innocent human life. The purebloods before me have let this be the way that life will flow.

This is how the human race will fall, and no way will I let it stand.

A hand places itself upon my shoulder, making me jump from my thoughts.

"Whoa," Don says, raising his hands up. "It's just me."

I sigh out in relief and frustration. Relief because it's just Don. Frustration because it's Don.

"What do you want," I snap out.

"Gees! Can't a big brother come to talk to his baby sister?"

"No."

Don let's out an exasperated sigh. From the corner of my eye, I catch him brush his hair back through his fingers. This is something he only does when he has something he wants to say.

"Spill it," I blandly say.

For a moment, Don looks at me with complete and utter shock that I caught on, but he tries to pull it off like nothing.

"I have no clue what you are talking about."

"Bull shit," I cuss out. "You damn well know you have something to say, so you better say it Don or so help me I'll-"

"Alright," he cuts me off.

Momentarily, he stands in thought as I stand arms crossed waiting. Finally, he fully gathers his thoughts and turns to me.

"I'm worried about mother."

It wakes me a moment to register fully what he said, but once I understood, I brake into a fit of laughter. Yes, I fully am well aware Don is our precious mother's trained dog. It makes perfect sense why he worked care, especially because she adores him. What really makes me chuckle, or more like laugh my ass off, is that he remotely thinks I would care.

"Why in God's good name do you think I care about that old bat, let alone your feelings? If you're so damn worried, deal with it yourself."

"Don't you think I would have already? Besides, I wouldn't have come to you unless it were absolutely necessary."

"Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a 'gal feel loved."

"You know what I mean, Layla."

"No, actually Don, I don't" Right now, I am hungry, and at a lack of sleep, so I am not in the mood for games. "So either you tell me why the hell you're worried, or leave me alone."

"Someone must have woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Don says jokingly.

"I wouldn't really say that, but I was almost killed this morning."

Don looks to me and evaluates my facial reaction. He must have thought I was saying that as a joke, but the stone cold face I had told him otherwise.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"No, I'm Layla."

"Quit joking, Lay!"

Don's expression quickly changes. This is probably the most concerned I have ever seen him. He takes his hands and places them gently on my shoulders. Utter concern was met with utter confusion.

Why the hell us he so concerned?

"Who tried to kill you?"

"Why do you even care, Don?"

"I just want to know! What? An older brother can't be concerned for the health and well being of his baby sister?"

"No, Don," I say matter-of-factly, "you can't be." We continue to stare at each other for a few more moments, battling each other silently.

Eventually, we both end the silent battle and turn away, staring out into our luxurious backyard. After staring out for a while, I concede with a long breathy sigh.

"I don't know."

There is a long pause, and I turn to my brother and see a look of confusion written on his face. So I, once again, sigh and attempt to clarify.

"I don't know who tried to kill me."

His mouth forms an 'O', meaning he is now following along. Although after another minute, his confusion returns.

"How do you not know?"

"It was an underclass," I explain. Don stiffens, but relaxes.

"An underclass broke in here?" I nod.

"And it almost had me, too. But, luckily, I had just woken up from a nightmare."

No reply of words are said from Don, just a nod.

A simple silence is laid upon us once again. It is almost peaceful. Almost. Then, I remember.

"Enough side track, what did you have to say?"

Another silence is between us, but this one is not as peaceful. This one holds an unspoken tension. Like there is a void that needs breaking. Like there is a release that a cold shower just won't suffice.

"Don," I push, trying to release any tension.

He begins to turn and walk back in the house. Before he makes it in, he stops, turning to look at me one last time.

"Mom's tracking Father's killer."

My world is turning. I no longer have clear sense of reality as question after question races through my head. So badly do I want to reach out and ask Don, "Why," or "How do you know this?" "Why do you know this?"

"After all this time, why would mother never tell me?"

I want to ask him everything, but he teleports even before I get any chance.