Whilst his niece was gone for a walk, Hugh Morgan began to worry about her, like he used to worry about his sister. He worried about both of them, really. It was only normal that he worry about them. After all, his niece was now his responsibility and he was happy that she was.
He looked at some photographs of his sister when she was younger and the day that she left. That had been the best and the worst day of his life. It was the best because that was the day that he found out that he was having a beautiful niece. It was the worst because a) he had found out who she belonged to and b) his sister had ran away because she resented what she was and the lifestyle that her family had lived for hundreds of years. While looking at the old photographs, he found one of his sister with Emily's father. He instantly ripped it to shreds in disgust. He threw the shreds into the fire and burnt it.
His sister resented her blood. She resented everything when it came to her true nature. It wasn't healthy for his sister whom he loved so dearly. He had tried his best to convince her but she was extremely resilient. She wanted what was impossible: a life of utter normality. When someone wanted something that was impossible, they went crazy searching for that impossible thing. That was what truly worried Hugh. What if one day his sister just snapped like his mother had done?
It wasn't as if he hated his sister. Quite the opposite actually. He felt sorry for her. She couldn't feel any emotions, she couldn't think of what she would do unless it was on impulse, and the bloodlust was undeniable. The more you denied it, the harder and more miserable it became.
He didn't understand how his sister had resisted doing what his family liked to do. If he didn't release his anger, he wouldn't dare to think of the possibilities. He was frightened by the very idea.
He also worried more than anything not about his sister, but about his precious little niece. He had only known her for a couple of days but still, he loved her with all of his heart. She truly was his everything. She was the only thing that he really had to live for since he didn't have any children of his own.
He hoped and prayed that his niece would be open minded, unlike her mother, who was paralyzed with fear. He remembered the day that his father brought them to the basement and showed them the truth. He had welcomed it because he knew and accepted that he was different. She, on the other hand couldn't control herself. She began to cry and he had comforted her. Their father hadn't been lenient that she cried. He had beat her until she couldn't move. It was weak, in his mind, to be emotional at all. He had been nice at once, but that was before his wife had committed suicide, leaving him with two children to raise without knowing anything at all about how to love or raise them.
He wondered how his niece's reaction would be. He hoped and prayed that she would accept her heritage and welcome it. He hoped that she would enjoy feeling the rush that went through her blood and welcome the frenzied craziness that blood and flesh brought with it. He decided to follow his niece. He got into his car and drove off to the movies where she would be dangerously close to a human named Ian Crosse. If she killed him, he wasn't going to stop it from happening. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be.
