"Genny." She looked up as Camille stepped through the doorway of their small room.

She slid the hidden bottom into place inside the chest and neatly returned her clothes on top of it. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up at her sister again and tiredly rose to her feet. Though the bruises and bloody nose she'd received from the beating she'd taken last night had faded, her muscles were still cramped and sore. With the journey into town, and the fact that Camille and Atticus had seemed to call a truce, she'd lost track of time and they'd been late to return. She'd been made to pay for their tardiness.

"Why don't you tell him?" Camille asked.

Genny lifted her cloak from where she'd placed it on the floor. "Tell who?"

"Atticus. Tell him what is going on here, what Felix is doing to you."

"No."

"Genny…"

"You didn't even like him yesterday afternoon and now you're asking me to tell him about this. No."

Camille held her hands before her in an effort to placate Genny as she stared up at her pleadingly. It was normally a look that Genny capitulated to every time Camille gave it to her, this time it only made her more determined to refuse her sister. "I didn't dislike him, I just didn't trust him."

"You talked to him for five minutes and now you trust him?"

"No. I mean yes!" she blurted. Her arms folded over her chest, her foot tapped on the ground as she took a minute to gather her thoughts. "I'm not sure what this is between you, or where it will go and I'm frightened that it will all end badly, but I think he cares for you. There is no faking the way he looks at you; you're the only one he sees no matter who else is around. If you tell him about Felix, he'll help you, I know he will."

"I said no, Camille."

"Please Genny…"

"No on this matter I will not budge. I don't need someone else to help me. I will take care of this. I will take care of myself…"

"Marie is the one who was supposed to take care of us!" Camille interrupted hotly. "But she has failed us miserably our entire lives. Now there is someone who would help to take care of you, who has the ability to do so, and you're being a stubborn fool. One of these nights Felix could kill you Genny. Maybe you don't care about yourself but think about what will happen to me if you are dead?"

Genny shot her a fierce look as her teeth clenched together. "That's not fair Camille. Don't use that against me, not in this. Besides Felix won't kill me, he needs me for the money."

Camille seemed to realize she'd crossed a line; she closed her eyes and folded her hands before her. "I worry about you."

"I know you do." Genny's hands trembled as she clasped the brooch and cloak together at her throat. "Atticus is not to know though. When I'm with him I can forget all about this place, that hideous man, and everything else that has happened because of Marie. I'm not willing to ruin that by having him feel sorry for me. I won't let that happen and I won't tell him."

"He won't feel sorry for you."

"Of course he will," Genny said. "You do."

Camille's mouth dropped, for the first time since Genny could remember her sister was actually speechless as her mouth opened then closed. "That's not true," she finally managed to croak out.

Genny rested her hand on Camille's shoulder and squeezed it. "Yes it is, but that's ok. I can take the pity from you but not from him, not with the way I feel about him. I couldn't tolerate that." Camille bowed her head and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "And don't you tell him either." There was a hopeless expression on Camille's face when she lifted her head again. "I mean it Camille. You may think that you're helping me by telling him but I'll never forgive you if you do."

"Genny…"

"I've never asked you for anything, I'm asking you for this. Please."

"I won't tell him," she promised.

"Thank you." She dropped a kiss on the top of her sister's head. "Come on."

Genny pulled the hood of her cloak up against the rain, Camille followed her outside and down the road of the small village. There were a few vampires about right now, but most were still sleeping after a night spent feeding and carousing amongst the humans. Though the king, and now what would be The Council, had established clubs where vampires could go to feed upon willing humans, some vampires still preferred the thrill of the hunt. It was understood that those that hunted were doing so at their own peril. If they were caught hunting outside of the approved clubs and killing humans, their death would make those of the caught thieves look like a blessing.

That didn't mean it didn't happen. In fact, she thought that unapproved hunting happened even more than most of them realized. It was extremely easy for a human to go missing and never be heard from again. She knew that within the village most tried to play by the rules, but every once in awhile they would stray. It was the ones that stopped registering and completely disobeyed the laws that were ruthlessly hunted and put to an excruciatingly painful death.

She'd heard it cost a lot of money to be able to kill a human within the clubs, but that some of the wealthier men and women paid to be allowed to do it. She understood the need for blood, the thrill that came with hunting something but as much as she didn't understand the human race, she also didn't understand the appeal of harming them.

To her, taking a human down was the same as taking down a deer, or even a bear. In fact, it would be easier to hunt a human as they weren't as fast and had less defenses than a bear. To each their own though, she supposed. She wondered if Atticus had ever paid to kill someone and then immediately shook off the thought. It wasn't something she could picture him doing, but his world was completely different from hers and she didn't know what kind of expectations he had placed on him.

Even with the precautions against killing the humans, whispers and rumors still ran through the humans about monsters that hunted them at night, witches and warlocks that cast spells, and demons that crawled into their beds while they slept. In her life, there had been a village in Germany that had been destroyed by a human mob after a vampire lost himself to the bloodlust and went on a killing spree of human babies.

When he'd been caught, the vampire had professed that the children's blood was the most magnificent and strengthening thing he'd ever tasted. The king had already put the vampire down by the time the humans had banded together and attacked the village that the vampire had resided in. Twenty more vampires had been killed by the mob and the fire that had spread through the town. After that the king had ordered all vampires out of Germany for the next fifty years. It would still be another forty years before any vampire could establish residency there again.

There were even vampires like her that preferred to feed from animals. It may not taste as good but to her it was far easier than going to the clubs she found so repulsive, or hunting and killing an innocent human in order to cover her tracks.

Camille stopped in front of the door to a larger hut that housed the orphaned children. Each town had one such hut and the King, Council she reminded herself with a shake of her head, paid vampires within the village to watch over the children and provide animals for them to feed from. There was nothing more perilous than a starving vampire child that couldn't control itself.

The giggling laughter of the children drifted from inside, Genny couldn't help but smile at the joyful sound. "Be careful," Camille said to her.

"I'll be back before sunset," Genny promised her.

Camille hurried to the door; Genny watched her slip inside before disappearing into the forest.

***

"Where are you off to?"

Atticus turned at the sound of Merle's voice behind him; his cousin strode across the ground toward him. Beside him, Drago snorted and dropped his head in an attempt to get at the grass beneath his hooves. "For a ride."

Merle lifted his head to the mellow rain falling around them. "You've been going for a lot of rides lately."

"It's better than being trapped within that manor. You can at least retreat to your ship where you can escape the ever cheerful brothers within," Atticus replied sarcastically. "I am not so fortunate."

Merle snickered as he folded his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "Why don't you come to the club with me? It's been awhile since we went together."

Atticus almost sneered at the suggestion but he forced his face to remain impassive. "Not today."

"I've never heard you turn down the club even once before we returned to England, this is the third time now." Merle's eyes were shrewd as he assessed him from head to toe. "What are you keeping from me cousin?"

Atticus forced a smile; he shifted his hold on Drago's reins when the horse attempted to grab at the grass again. Drago snorted his displeasure into Atticus's shoulder and stomped at the ground. "I'm just enjoying nature."

"Since when?"

Since Genny appeared in it, but he didn't say that out loud. "Since it gets me out of that manor," he replied with a laugh.

Merle smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. "You've met a woman or you've found a woman. Tell me, who is she?"

Atticus shook his head. "Merle…"

"It's the girl from that day, the blond," he announced with a laugh. "I thought you felt she was a little too young but it all makes sense now! All your trips into the woods, the secretiveness, the fact that you've been turning the serving women away, it's all crystal clear! If I had someone that beautiful in my bed, I'd be doing the same. But then I'd never leave my bed!"

"It's not the blond," Atticus told him.

"Then who and where did you meet her?"

Atticus looked at Drago but even the horse was staring at him as if he was waiting for an answer too. If Genny had been any other woman he would have told Merle about her long ago, but she wasn't any other woman. Relationships between villagers and the aristocrats weren't unheard of but they were never anything serious, nor could they ever be. Any children born of such unions weren't acknowledged, the aristocrats married amongst each other and the villagers remained with other villagers. It wasn't that fact that kept him from saying anything to Merle though, Merle would never tell anyone else about her. It was because she was special and he wasn't ready to share that yet.

The smile faded from Merle's face. "Atticus what is going on?"

"Nothing I'd like to talk about right now."

"Wait!" Merle grabbed hold of his arm when he went to turn away. "Atticus this is me you're talking to. We've always told each other everything. You saved my life when we got drunk and I fell off of my horse and onto my sword."

Atticus laughed as he recalled that particular incident. Now, it wouldn't have been a mortal wound to Merle. At the time though he'd only been fourteen and he hadn't been able to heal himself as fast as he was bleeding out. Atticus had staunched the wound to the best of his ability with dirt and leaves before leaving to hunt down a human for his cousin to feed on. The woman hadn't survived as Merle had been beyond control and needed more blood than he normally required. Afterward, Atticus had been the one to dispose of the body in a nearby lake. No one else knew about the accident, and though Atticus regretted the loss of the woman's life, he would do it again if it meant saving Merle.

The most time they'd spent apart was the first month of his life, before Merle had been born. Both of them had been handed over to the care of their nursemaids and placed in a nursery the moment they'd been born. At four they'd been moved from the nursery and into a large room that they had shared because they refused to be separated.

When they turned ten, they were moved from their room and into the training compound with the rest of the aristocrat's children. There they had been taught how to fence, wield a sword, joust, the art of archery, the brutality of the staff, and hand-to-hand combat. Unlike humans, these skills would not be used in war. Though some vampires did go to war to partake in the spoils of blood and riches that war could sometimes offer them, the aristocratic children learned these skills to protect themselves against their own kind and to keep control of what was theirs.

There had been twelve children in the compound at the time, and as the youngest of the twelve, the two of them had taken repeated beatings over the first four years. Then, at fourteen, Atticus began to surpass the others in strength and endurance. The other boys had stopped picking on him and Merle when the tables had been turned on them. It was Atticus they were frightened of, but they all knew they would earn his wrath if they went after Merle.

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" Merle pressed.

Atticus released a snort of laughter. He didn't know how to answer that question. His life wasn't in jeopardy, he wasn't into any kind of gambling debt that his father might have to get him out of, but he was definitely in over his head.

"I'm not sure what I'm into," he admitted.

"Are we talking about new experiences with women here?" Merle asked with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. "And if so, please do share."

"No, it's not like that."

Merle's kidding demeanor vanished as he threw back his shoulders and set his jaw. "Are we to fight then?"

Atticus snorted and shook his head. "No."

Now Merle looked as confused as he had the day they'd discovered their old nursemaid and Atticus's father rolling around in the hay. They'd only been seven at the time but neither of them had walked out of that barn the same. "I'll do whatever I can to help you out."

"I know, and I thank you, but you can't help me out of this Merle. That's not going to be possible and I don't want out of it."

His cousin's blue eyes studied him closely. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

Atticus leaned against Drago's side and crossed his legs. "I have been meeting with one of the women we met in the woods that day, but not the blond."

"The black haired girl?"

"Genny," he confirmed.

"But… she's not your type." Merle's tone was full of disbelief as he tried to assimilate this information.

"True," Atticus admitted. He had always preferred a blond with a rounder figure, but then none of them had possessed Genny's smile, her laugh, or had made him feel the way that she did. They'd all been after his money, his bed, his power or all of the above. Genny asked him for nothing, she demanded nothing of him, she simply enjoyed being in his presence. He'd never encountered that from anyone before.

"Is this serious Atticus?"

He thought over that question for a minute. Over these past couple of weeks he'd gotten to know her better, he hated to be away from her, but he'd never stopped to think about what it was between them exactly. They hadn't even lain together yet, he didn't even know if they would, but he knew he didn't want this to end. "Yes."

Merle looked as if he'd just been stabbed in the stomach with a sword again as his mouth dropped open. "You mean to keep her as a mistress then?"

"I could never ask that of her, and I don't think she would agree to it."

"You can't marry her Atticus."

He bristled over the words. He didn't like being told what he could and could not do under normal circumstances; he despised his cousin telling him there was something that he couldn't do with Genny. "You're getting ahead of me on that Merle," he grated out from between his clenched teeth.

"Maybe I am, and I'm not looking to upset you, but your father will not approve of this."

"None of the aristocrats will approve of this."

"True."

"And I've never truly cared what any of them approved of before."

Some of the tension eased from Merle as he grinned at him. "Even more true. Well your secret is safe with me cousin."

"Thank you."

Grabbing hold of the saddle, he boosted himself onto Drago's back. Merle stepped forward and rested his hand on the horse's shoulder. "You may want to try and act at least a little normal again though; I'm not the only one that has noticed a change in you. The servants are talking and it's only a matter of time before that talk gets back to your father."

Atticus's jaw clenched, his gaze drifted to the manor half hidden in the fog creeping forth from the woods. He didn't know what his father would do if he were to learn about Genny and he wasn't willing to find out either. "I'll do what I can," he muttered. "I have to go now."

Merle nodded and stepped away. Atticus could feel his eyes following him as he galloped across the land toward the woods.