Reminiscence {Book Two of the Vengeance Trilogy}

Chapter Four: A New Face

I never would have guessed that there was a whole world of vampires that existed, or that my aunt was a part of it. I guess that's about as cliche as it gets, but it was true. I couldn't have seen it coming around that river bend, but that was life. I knew that better than anyone else, I guess. The only other person who understood like I did was Caroline. Maybe that's why she and I had a strong connection. Maybe that's why I felt an urge to protect her. It had been so long since I cared about anything or anyone except for Elliot, but I was okay with it. At this point, I considered her to be one of the only friends I had. Since she was the only one, I wasn't going to risk fucking that up.

While I was getting lost in thoughts and memories, I realized that I had been sitting in that same spot for a while. Chances were I looked like a nutcase just sitting out here by myself. I slowly stood up, still staring at my aunt's headstone. As much as I hated Declan, I couldn't help but think about what he had said before about telling Elliot about this place. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about keeping the secret from him. The kid loved her and Uncle Daley just like any other kid with great parents would. I guess I was always kind of jealous of how good he had it. When I saw how the two of them were with him, I would always wonder why my parents ever thought of having a kid in the first place. I mean, it was clear that they didn't really want me. That or they thought they did and then when they saw how I acted decided that they didn't and it was just too late.

"Until next time, Aunt Aileen. I'm still watching the kid, just like you asked. I promise," I muttered. Again, I probably looked like a nutcase, but I didn't really give a shit. Then again, when did I? I let out a deep sigh and turned around to leave the cemetery. As soon as I did, I stopped dead in my tracks when my eyes landed on a guy who was staring right back at me.

Immediately, I began to take mental notes on everything about him that I could see. Eyes are hazel and glowing. He's one of us, I thought to myself. He dressed as if he were in some kind of indie garage band that had a terrible name. His chestnut hair was carefully styled like he took at least an hour every morning to get the exact angle right. The feature that trumped all the others was his height. This guy was maybe 160 centimeters tall if even that. I had to actually look down at him in order to look him in the eyes. I felt a slick smile form on my lips as I figured out what I was going to say.

"What are you doing here, shorty? Shouldn't you be rehearsing for the school musical or something?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest, but his scowl deepened, letting me know that my insult had served its purpose.

"He was right, you are the sarcastic one," he said, a light Spanish accent covering every word out of his mouth. I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. I had made a lot of friends and enemies over the years—probably one more than the other, but that was beside the point—so it was nothing out of the ordinary for me to hear what others thought about me. Still, the way this guy was putting it gave me the idea that someone was looking for me. If there was one thing I was completely certain about, it was that I never left behind loose ends. Especially if those loose ends could bite me in the ass down the road.

While I was living in Romania, I was living with an elderly woman who helped vampires get off of the natural thirst. Not only was I learning from her about the method of helping people resist, but I was developing the venom bands that would allow humans to temporarily possess the power that vampires had without claiming them. Working on a project that big means working with a lot of different people, most of them not being the cleanest in the eyes of the law. Some of them liked me, others didn't, and there were some that wanted me dead.

By the time I had left Romania to find my cousin, most of the big names in organized crime knew that I was not one to be fucked with. Still, when this guy gave me the idea that someone was out there looking for me, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a loose end that I had forgotten. Whether or not I had wasn't the problem, instead it was how the hell I was going to take care of it without letting Elliot or the other dunderheads know about it.