Temporary Title

Chapter Eight: Well.. Now What?

Authors Note: Sorry it's been a little bit. I was feeling kind of stuck and I've been busy lately!

He sat down in the dining chair across from me, those thundercloud eyes sizing me up. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat: not wanting to be analyzed.
"Who are you?"
It was a simple but loaded question and the first one I wanted to know the answer to.
He smiled sarcastically but it was almost a little bittersweet.
"I'm Viktor. Now it's my turn. How did you come to own this house?"
Not exactly what I wanted. I figured I shouldn't argue and my best bet was to be honest. In hopes he wouldn't hurt me for lying.
"It was my grandmother's, she left it for me."
"What was her name?" He demanded.
"Hey, it's my turn!" I exclaimed.
"Fine."
"What are you?" I asked, slowly and hesitantly. He looked a little amused and thought for a moment before replying,
"I am what lurks in the darkness, the thing you have nightmares about: a vampire." (Okay, dramatic much??) And yet, I was kinda scared. Now that my suspicions were correct, what happens next? Growing up I heard rumors that we were descended from witches but other than being a cool family story, I never figured it meant anything. I mean, I certainly was no Harry Potter. I never had any 'weird powers' (as much as I had hoped as a young child) or strange happenings. Part of me really wanted to believe in the supernatural but as I got older it was harder to hold onto those beliefs and eventually I wrote it off as my grandparents senile ramblings. But none of that information could help me right now.
"Okay, so-"
He wagged a finger at me.
"Who's your grandmother?"
"Ambrosia.. Ambrosia Blackwood."
It was then, when I said her last name his eyes darkened. Not just like his expression changed, which it did, but physically the area around his eyes darkened and his brow furrowed.
My body froze under his hard gaze. Scout sat up, alert and ready to pounce if needed. I escaped my trance and decided to play up my innocent persona before things turned ugly. I didn't know what he had against my family but it's not unlikely something happened between them that ended up with him locked in the basement. And so, I gently reached my hand across the table and placed it on his. Looking concerned I asked,
"Is something wrong?"
To be honest, I was terrified but I am in truth, a bit of a coward and would not be able to fight him if it came down to it. He seemed a little shocked and taken aback that I touched him. Pulling his hand away he raised an eyebrow, noticeably calmer.
"I see the women of this century are more forward about their feelings."
I blushed but it was more out of nervousness than anything. He asked if he could bathe somewhere and I introduced what turned out to be a completely new concept to him: the shower. I left him alone after showing him how it worked and went back downstairs. I flopped on the couch and let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.