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When Philippe awoke, he went to the kitchen and found Charlotte drinking a glass of milk. He was pleased to see that she was well-rested. “Anymore nightmares?” he asked her kindly.
Charlotte was silent before she slowly shook her head. “Not this time, no.” She looked up at him. “What does he want from me, Philippe?”
“What do you mean?” Philippe slowly walked towards her. “How did he approach you?”
“Very seductive . . . almost in a dangerous manner. He wasn’t threatening, yet I knew he was trouble.” She stared up at him with a look of fear on her face. “I’m afraid Damon wants to transform me into . . . into a vampire like him.”
“No.” Philippe’s tone was harsh. “I won’t let that happen.” He gave Charlotte’s arm a fatherly squeeze. “I won’t let that bastard near you.”
A knock reached Philippe’s ears before Charlotte rose to her feet.
Philippe rose his hands. “I’ll get that.” He then turned and left the room before he went to the living room to check the peephole who was causing the insistent knocking. He was relieved to see that it was only Lucien, Juliet, and some other woman. When he opened the door, however, he was surprised to see that they appeared to be upset.
“What happened?” Philippe asked as Lucien and his cohorts walked into the room. “Who’s this other woman? We shouldn’t involve anyone else in this?”
“This is Jane Brown,” Juliet said. “She knows all about the existence of your kind—more so than you’d expect.”
Philippe looked at the three of them and suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Why do I feel the as though I’m the object of scrutiny?”
“Very simple; you haven’t been honest with us,” Lucien said in a bitter voice.
Philippe frowned. “What exactly does that mean?”
“THIS is what I mean,” Lucien almost shouted, tossing Philippe a piece of paper.
Philippe grabbed it and saw that it was a family painting of himself, Mariam, and his son. When he read Lucien’s thoughts, he felt himself go paler than usual. “I know how this must appear, but I have an explanation.”
“What? That you have deceived us? I think that photograph pretty much says it right there.”
“Lucien, please,” Kaitlin said in a calm and pleading voice.
Lucien turned to her and turned away from both her and Philippe, hoping he would calm down.
“The other night when you saved us from Damon,” Kaitlin said slowly, as though she were trying to choose her words carefully, “and when we were on our way here, you said something which disturbed me. Actually, I think it disturbed both Lucien and I.”
Philippe remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
“You said that Damon wanted Lucien dead because of what he did to Mariam. However, you told us that it was Damon who destroyed Mariam.”
Lucien frowned, his anger being replaced by a feeling of confusion. “That . . . that’s not true. We did that. I did that—I exposed her to the sunlight.”
“No. You destroyed the demonic creature that Damon turned her into.”
Jane stared at Philippe. “You’re confusing me, pal.”
Kaitlin glanced at Jane. “I think he’s confusing the hell out of all of us, Jane.”
Philippe was silent for a moment, and Jane realized that he was doing his best not to cry out loud as a blood-red tear streamed down his cheek. When he spoke, his voice was cracking. “The Mariam I knew . . . The MORTAL Mariam I knew before HE came into our lives was a wonderful, loving, beautiful woman. She became an even kinder woman when she gave birth to our son, Geoffory.”
Philippe stared at the printed picture of the painting in his hand as he stroked the cheek of his son. He could still feel the empty space of his heart missing as he remembered the tragedy of what happened to his son so many centuries ago. “Then I made the mistake of allowing Damon Simone into our lives. Afterwards, she . . . our whole family . . . was never the same.”
“What did he do?” Jane asked, unable to suppress the sympathy she felt for Philippe.
Wiping his tears, Philippe took a deep breath as he began to tell them all that had happened to his family.
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