The Dawn of Wynter Ch. 05

"That's quite enough Stefâne," Kai said from behind his desk.

"She knows something dammit!" he growled turning to face Kai, his eyes growing darker in his anger.

Kai stepped from around his desk, and walked towards Antoinette, his eyes were calm and gentle. IF she knew anything, yelling at her wouldn't be the way to get her to divulge her secrets.

"Toni, I've known you for so long, Zara has relied on you for longer still. I consider you my family, so please, I'm begging you if you know anything, however miniscule it may be you have to tell me. If it can help my sister in any way we have to know."

Toni simply stared back into his pleading eyes, silently. She couldn't say anything, because even if she did they couldn't do anything to help her now. Zara was on her own, as she had been all her life. Zara would come back to them eventually. Until then, Antoinette had to play the fool.

"I'm sorry Kailan...to all of you," she added looking at Stefâne and Philippe, "Nothing I say or do will help the situation now. Please understand that."

Kailan looked at her in surprise, "So you do know something, why this has happened to her." It wasn't a question. He could see it plainly on her face, she knew more than she was letting on and she wasn't going to say a word about it. It was his turn to become angry.

He lunged at her, his hand closing around her throat as he snarled at her, "All this time and you knew?! You knew what was happening to her and you didn't say a word to any of us? How could you Toni? After everything, you remain silent. She is your friend! My sister! My only true blood and family! Tell me what is happening to my sister now or so help me I will remove your head from your shoulders without hesitation," he hissed, his fangs elongating, dripping with venom as his eyes clouded over, and leaving only black orbs gazing back at her furiously.

To her credit she didn't even flinch, merely stood there and accepted the powerful vampires rage. He pushed her back into the wall of shelves roughly still holding her by the neck, some books tumbling from their place with the force of impact.

"TELL ME!" he roared, the veins in his neck straining his face growing red in his fury.

"Kailan, that is enough," a voice called from behind him. He froze in his place, his eyes growing wide with shock. He knew that voice, but it couldn't be. Not after all this time, and now of all circumstances.

He turned facing the entry to the study and what he refused to believe from his ears, he had to accept with his eyes because there standing in the frame of the doorway was Xander. He stood there for god only knew how long, his hand still clasped around Toni's throat, staring at Xander, breathing heavily as his rage coursed through his blood trying to calm himself and understand what Zara's maker was doing here after all this time. It couldn't be a coincidence that he showed up now of all times, when she lay unconscious, and the Vyrkaryan at their doorstep.

"Please release Toni, she has done nothing to deserve such treatment," Xander said in a deadly calm voice. It was a demand and one that Kai obeyed immediately after he realized what he had done. He immediately let go of her, leaving Toni gasping for breath clutching her already bruised throat.

"Please, forgive me Toni, I don't know what came over me."

"There is no need to apologize, we have all grown tense since...well you know," she said smiling slightly.

He turned to face Xander, still unable to believe he was standing in his home.

"Why are you here Xander? You abandoned us seven centuries ago, left my sister to wither away on her own. You're not welcome here," he growled.

"I know you must have endless questions Kai, and I will answer them all in due time. I fear however, right now we have little of that. The Vyrkaryan are scheduled to be here in an hour's time and it took a lot to get here unnoticed by them."

"You know of their visit? How is that possible? You've been gone for -- "

"I know because I am one of them. I am Vyrkaryan," he said cutting Kai off, there was no time for questions.

"What?" he asked incredulously, "But -- I -- how?" Suddenly something clicked. If he was Vyrkaryan then...He turned around to face Philippe, his anger rising once more.

"All this time and you knew?" he asked quietly, his eyes were accusing, and hurt cut deep in him. He had trusted Philippe, and all this time he knew everything! He knew about Xander, about his sister. He was merely a watch dog.

"Yes, but that doesn't change anything Kai. You are like a brother, and I consider you one of my most trusted friends."

"Your friendship was based on a lie," he said his voice growing louder, "You were merely a spy, reporting back to your master," he spat, looking between the two ancient men.

"Watch your tongue Kailan, I am still your elder," Philippe said in a quiet tone, but his anger was unmistakable. He would not be called a servant, however indirectly.

"It's the truth! And you've been lying to my sister! I know you two have something going on, and you've been lying to her this whole time!" he yelled at him, the two weeks of stress finally taking their toll, breaking him down. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. His sister lay unconscious and three people he trusted had been watching them secretly all this time, keeping secrets, hiding in plain sight.

"It was in her best interest, and yours," he replied calmly.

"In case you haven't noticed, Philippe," he spat his name like it was a curse, "She's been unconscious for two weeks now. Exactly how is that in her best interest?"

"Kailan, please calm down," Xander spoke up now, "I told you I will answer all your questions but now is not the time. We have more pressing matters!"

Stefâne who had been quiet this whole time stood and took his brother by the shoulders, silently urging him to calm down. With a defeated sigh his body slumped, all the fight drained from him. The worry of the last two weeks was evident on his face. He didn't know what he would do if he lost his sister, but if Xander said he would answer questions perhaps they would help in raising her for her comatose state. He was right though, they had to get through the damned meeting before anything else happened.

"Don't think this conversation is over," he said seriously to Xander, "You have a lot to explain, to me, but mostly to her," he paused to allow Xander to respond, he merely nodded his head.

"What are we to do?" he asked quietly sitting down on a sofa, his back facing Xander now as he ran his hands through his hair.

"What you originally planned, Toni will play the role of your sister and if fortune favours us, we will get through this mess."

"They will know," he groaned, frustrated, "They will smell it on her eventually."

"Perhaps, but we will do everything in our power to ensure they are distracted enough not to notice."

"Toni, go grab some of Zara's clothes, her scent will be heavy on them, and preferably something she wore more recently. If the meeting is short enough then it may just work," Philippe said.

Toni simply nodded and made her way to leave the room, stopping to grasp Xander's hand in hers, a silent exchange between the two passed and she exited through the large door.

--

Zara's eyes flew open and she gasped for breath, she felt like she had been drowning. She sat up disoriented, looking around not quite sure where she was. She blinked furiously, taking in her surroundings, before she realized she was in her room. Her body felt stiff, as if she hadn't moved in weeks. What the hell had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was Raine leaving her after the reunion party and getting ready to go to bed. She edged herself to the end of the bed and made to stand, but her body was stiff and her legs felt cramped and she stumbled slightly, before standing up straight.

"What the fuck happened to me," she thought out loud, rolling her stiff shoulders.

She stretched her body, not venturing too far from the bed in case she fell over, her arms high in the air as she twisted this way and that, flexing muscles where she could. She didn't remember doing anything strenuous at the club, nor when she arrived at home. Actually, she couldn't even remember going to bed. She thought hard about it, but no memory came of her actually going to sleep. Sleep. She had dreamt of something. Something important. What was it? She stood in her room frowning, she knew it was important to remember, that all the answers lay in the dream she had but the more she tried to remember the more it slipped through the recesses of her mind.

She sighed, giving up the futile effort; it would come back on its own. She knew the harder you tried to remember something the more difficult it would be to bring it to the forefront of your mind. She decided to put on some clothes and find her brother and figure out what the hell happened after that party instead. She looked down at herself. She was in shorts and a tank top. When had she put those on?

She growled in frustration, she hated not being able to remember things. This had never happened before which made her feel a little panicky. Vampires didn't forget, and yet here she stood once again the exception to the rule. Are you really surprised? A small voice asked in her head. No, she supposed she wasn't. She made her way to the bathroom and stopped short. Where the hell was the mirror that usually hung above her vanity? She took a few steps forward, and cursed loudly as she stepped on something sharp. Looking down and lifting her foot, she pulled a large shard of glass from the ball of her foot, blood trickling down and dropping to the floor before the skin healed itself, instantly.

What the hell was going on? She walked deeper into the bathroom where her tub and shower were situated and found the floor to ceiling length mirror. She stared at her reflection in shock and surprise. The hair on her head shone like strands of thin silver, mimicking the rings around her emerald green eyes. Her complexion was a little paler than normal, but it wasn't anything a feeding and a day out in the sun wouldn't cure. She was about to turn and make her way to her closet to find a pair of jeans and t-shirt when she noticed a shimmer on her skin. She walked closer to the mirror, frowning. She turned her shoulder and gasped. Shimmering on her skin were symbols she'd never seen in her life. She clawed at her shirt trying to pull it off over her head. She threw it to the floor and pulled her hair to the side and craned her neck to look at her back. It started at the nape of her neck and ran all the way down stopping just above the curves of her behind.

At the center of her back, absolutely symmetrical on her spine was a half moon and sun, merged, but what made up the shapes were tiny symbols, a strange language she'd never seen. From the center moving upwards was the moon growing larger until at the nape of her neck sat a full moon, and at the bottom of her back sat a burning sun. On her shoulder blades the same writing and symbols ran lengthwise down her back.

Where did this come from? She should have been freaking out, but somehow she knew that whatever these symbols were, they were connected somehow to what she had dreamed. It was all there, on her body and in her mind; she just had to piece it together. She ran to the front of the bathroom and pulled drawers open underneath her vanity before she found the handheld mirror. She made her way back and held it up in front of her, angling it so she could catch the reflection of her back on it. She turned this way and that, marveling at how the writing caught the light. It was absolutely beautiful. Not just how it shimmered on her skin, but the design itself was art -- a masterpiece.

The more she looked at it, the more it reminded her of the tattoos Buddhist monks in Thailand. She remembered being fascinated by the beauty of the art they wore like badges of honour on their body, each one holding a different meaning. The script was small like theirs, and covered her back completely, the characters so tightly drawn it created images on her back, like the moon and sun. There was so much detail she couldn't even begin to see it clearly holding up the small mirror in front of her.

I always wanted a tattoo she thought wryly; I suppose this is close enough. While the script wasn't black ink, and barely showed unless the light hit it in a certain way, she thought of it as a kind of tattoo. She knew however, it was so much more than that. She didn't know how she came to have this strange writing on her back, what it even meant, and why she felt like she was hit by a truck but for some reason she didn't care. For the first time in her life she wasn't worried about the 'why'. She knew instinctively the answers would come. And soon.

After getting her fill of the view on her back she finally made her way to her walk in closet and pulled a pair of jeans from a shelf and slipped them on. As she reached for a shirt off a hanger she paused, sniffing the air. Antoinette had been in here recently. Strange...They were definitely not the same size or build, why would she be in her closet? She shrugged to herself, and pulled on a white cotton v-neck tee. She didn't feel the need to dress up; she felt like shit and wanted to be comfortable. Looking back into a mirror situated between the racks of clothing on either side of her, she surveyed her new hair. It was amazing, it made her look unearthly. That was the problem, she didn't want to look like that, she wanted to look as normal as possible. She willed her hair to a dark burgundy. The silver slowly faded replaced by the new colour , save for one small strand in the front. It refused to turn, despite how hard she pushed.

"Augh, fine," she said to herself, giving up on the strand. She actually kind of liked it the more she looked at her reflection.

She shrugged to herself and made her way back into her room and found her phone lying on her bedside table. She was about to called Raine and ask her what the hell happened last night when she saw the date on her phone. Impossible. That would mean she was out for two weeks!

She quickly unlocked her phone and scanned through her messages. There were about twenty from Raine, the first few were light, asking her if she had spoken to Philippe yet, but as the days went on they became more forceful, her choice of words putting a sailor to shame, asking where the hell she was and why she wasn't responding. The same pattern with Jax and a few others were listed in her unread messages. That was it, she stuffed her phone into her back pocket and made her way out to find Kai or Stefâne or even Philippe to ask what the hell was going on.

She checked the kitchen first, finding no one there, then the gym but to her disappointment Philippe wasn't there either. She'd made her way through the entire West and South Wings before she realized the mansion was eerily quiet and steady. That wasn't normal, she would have usually run into someone right now, whether it was a youngling or a were. She called out in her mind to all three men, trying to place them on the large property. Silence.

She made her way to Kai's study and was just about to open the door before it opened and closed too quickly and Philippe stood in front of her, blocking the way. Before she could ask what the hell was going on, he placed his hand over her mouth to silence her and narrowed his eyes, telling her not to make a sound. He grabbed her arm and dragged her back the way she came, moving swiftly and she found herself back in the kitchen.

He finally released her and sat her down rather forcefully onto the leather stool behind the large marble island.

"Philippe what the hell do you think you're doing? What was all that about?" she asked a little pissed at how he had manhandled her.

"Jesus Zara, you have the worst timing ever, do you know that?" he asked irately his palms resting flat on the island as he looked at her, although she saw a smile begin to form on his face, mixed with...relief?

"Oh I'm sorry did I interrupt something important?" she asked sarcastically, "Because I just found out I was unconscious for TWO FUCKING WEEKS!" she yelled, "Where is everybody?"

"Shhh," he said rather frantically, looking behind him to see if anyone was coming, before turning back to her.

"Why are you so worried someone will hear?" she asked, now really looking at him. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked like he'd run his hands through it repeatedly. Something had happened, what she didn't know.

"Who was in the study?" she asked, suddenly, realizing that she hadn't actually been able to peer into the room.

He sighed, staring into her eyes for a while before answering, "Zara you were out for two weeks, you scared us all to death. Surely you remember what day today is?" he asked looking at her expectantly, but when she drew a blank he added, "The visit is happening as we speak."

Shit. How could she have forgotten?! Of course it was today, and she wasn't even prepared. They hadn't gone over the questions they would ask, or what she would say to the Vyrkaryan members. She wasn't even dressed for the event, she realized looking down at her tee and jeans.

"Trust me that is that least of our worries chérie," he said chuckling under his breath.

Her head shot up and she looked at him in surprise, "How did you hear what I was thinking? I wasn't even projecting; I didn't feel you in my head," she mused. Usually she felt when Philippe was in her head, it was like someone was invading her space, a kind of pressure in her mind. He had only ever been able to place thoughts and images in her mind, never read them, unless she herself was projecting. Come to think of it, there was something else there, something she couldn't quite place in her current state of mind. She felt...emotions that weren't hers. Or were they? She felt so muddled at the moment she couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Had she delved deeper, it would have been immediately clear but at the moment so many things were swirling in her head she couldn't focus.

He stared back at her confused. Surely she remembered sharing blood, he thought. A blood oath was not something you forgot, and frankly he'd been surprised it took her this long to broach the subject. He'd been expecting the fires of hell to descend upon him the moment she woke and realized what they'd done in the heat of the moment.

"Zara, you don't remember that night?" he asked cautiously.

"What night? Philippe, all I remember is coming home after that party and planning on going to bed for about a year before everything just goes...black. And then I woke up a few minutes ago to find its two weeks later and I have this crazy thing on my back - you have to see this thing, its spectacular," she added energetically, getting sidetracked, "and I can't seem to find anyone in this damn mansion," she said ranting on, not realizing the dark look that crossed Philippe's face.

She hadn't remembered them making love, nor the blood oath they made. Shit. What the hell had happened to her while she was out? Why couldn't she remember anything past coming home? How was he supposed to explain to her that she was bound to him now, for eternity, and he to her. The last thing she remembered was asking him to leave her alone at the club. She wouldn't accept that she had given in to her desires and that they had actually enjoyed themselves.

"Zara, there's a lot going on right now. I have to get back to the meeting, but just promise me you'll stay in your rooms until I come back to get you. Please?"

"What about the meeting? Surely they'll ask why I'm not present," she persisted.