The next night, I found the whole coven once again waiting for the New York council to arrive. They had never shown, despite repeated calls to their escorts and staff. Instead, Commander Lady Bartholomeu had kept the tone light with an informal dinner and hours sitting around in the large library that doubled as a formal parlor. I hadn't ever heard my parents laugh so much as they swapped memories with our hosts and the British visitors.

Once again, I leaned back into the wingback chair within the downstairs library. I swirled the contents of my rocks glass slowly, listening to the conversations around me. Avalon continued to discuss potions and spells with Grand Elder Seren Winslow at a separate table over a game of chess. I glanced in their direction when Seren chuckled at something my brother said that had sounded heavily sarcastic. I smirked and then switched my attention to our parents where they had taken up residence near the window, my mother relaxing on the thick cushions and my father's hand on her shoulder, talking about plans for their work schedules once my future sibling was born in a couple years.

My concentration shifted to the door as I heard more voices. My vampire abilities were slowly coming to life as I aged. My vision had sharpened to see better in the dark and my hearing had become more acute, picking up every sound the nighttime made, or the conversations being had in the next room. But most impressively, each passing year had made me feel stronger. While I wouldn't be as quick as my parents, Mother had explained it would take the majority of my first century of life to truly develop each vampiric trait and ability that elders had. Youthful and newly-Turned vampires wouldn't match their speed, strength, or even the ability to heal as quickly in comparison to our elders.

"I still think you should have worn the red. You know you could get Romano to...tais-toi in that dress," came the sound of Contessa's voice from just outside. "Black is just black."

"You say I shouldn't wear black, but all I hear is that I look perfectly fine like this. I don't need to make him 'tais-toi' with a dress," Elizabeth answered, an amused tone in her voice. "I don't think anyone could make that man lose his words."

"Well, we can certainly try," the blonde lamented, making her commander giggle aloud.

One of the double-doors opened and Elizabeth walked into the room with the same pointed perfection I had noticed on her the night before. She wore a black, high-necked dress, the garment cut to perfectly align with her figure. Her pearl earrings and necklace showed against the dark fabric and her black hair. I was immediately envious of her stature and aura of authority. She was poised but not rigid, practiced but not tame. I silently hoped to learn from her example. I felt plain and unsophisticated by comparison. I still didn't know how to grasp the destiny placed upon me as I made sense of the outside world; but with practice, maybe I could learn.

Contessa followed in a blue lace dress that had a similar shape, but the sapphire material plunged down to hit just above her sternum. She immediately looked at me with a warm smile, her red lips parting in the grin. "Mademoiselle," she greeted.

"Evening," I answered, smiling back.

"I hope you're not bored down here with this mundane chess performance," she added, taking the matching chair to mine.

I giggled immediately when my brother's head whipped around in our direction.

"Careful, Contessa," Seren said without breaking his concentration on the game board. "'In life, as in chess, forethought wins.' Sometimes the mundane forethoughts are what will save you in the field," he finished, his voice warm rather than reprimanding.

The women laughed in response as Elizabeth moved to the bar cart. "Seren, when will you learn that Contessa is just like a cat? She always lands on her feet without fore- or afterthought," the dark-haired commander teased.

"Let's bring this subject up again in another century, and I will be better equipped to score your abilities," their mentor responded. "If there is one person I am not worried about in this room when it comes to skills and abilities, it is our young Dark Child. You other three will need more work."

"Now you're dragging our guest, Master Mezdor, into the fray?" Elizabeth asked, no longer sounding like a diplomat. She turned her head to glance over her shoulder at him, smirking.

"No, of course not. I meant the Blood Warrior," the grand elder chuckled, his eyes still on the chess pieces as moved a bishop to its new resting place. The comment made everyone laugh as my father grinned and shook his head at the joke.

I giggled, turning my attention towards my parents. Dad continued to smile, but it was my mother who giggled loudly. I'd gathered that Seren Winslow was the only grand elder who had kept relationships with each of the Winslow fledgling class in our bloodline. He had also worked alongside my father hundreds of years before in the seventeenth century.

The door opened again, and I glanced to see an attendant step inside the entryway. He scanned through each of us quickly, trying to locate Elizabeth. Once he did, he quickly bowed his head to her rank. "My lady, Grand Elder Seren, the Romanos have arrived. Lord Augustus is about to greet them. Would you like to hold the receiving in the grand foyer?"

Elizabeth's jaw clenched and she sat her wine glass down on the bar cart, unable to take a sip of what she had just poured. "Lord Romano is over twenty-four hours late. He and his lovely family can be received here in the lounge," she answered the man, her voice all business again. "I'm already quite comfortable."

"Easy," Seren warned once the attendant left, as if the word were a gentle reminder not to be confrontational. When he got to his feet, my brother copied his actions.

Last night, the elders and the Americans had talked at great length during dinner that the East and West Coast houses often opposed one another in political spheres. The council of the West Coast coven had continuously shared stories and annoyances of dealing with their countrymen, while the elders had sat and listened, nodding or commenting when appropriate. I'd begun to fear the commander and council from the opposite side of the States was some sort of intimidating and threatening vampire.

I rose to a stand and placed my glass on the table beside my armchair. My dark grey dress settled around my legs, the skirt brushing against my thighs with my momentum. I crossed my fingers together into a single fist, waiting. I glanced over at my parents to see they, too, were now standing.

There were voices from outside again, and I waited as I heard Marcus greet the newcomers into the coven house. Kearran's and Nathaniel's voices followed in polite but sharp welcomes. When Marcus held one of the doors wide, he grinned at the group of arrivals. "Please, allow me to introduce the Mezdors," he said to them.

I glanced at each of the five quickly, reading their facial expressions. The man who stood in front was older in age, looking as if he had been Turned in his mid-fifties. He had brown hair and tan skin, his eyes matching his hair. He wore a black suit and red tie, a cane with a silver handle in his grip. Behind him, a woman in a white dress with bright red hair and green eyes made quick work of scanning each of us. To her right, two more men stood. A third brought up the rear. I straightened my posture quickly, pushing my shoulders back to their proper place.

"Commander Lord Anthony Romano, allow me to introduce you to the Mezdor family," Marcus repeated, sounding more formal as he gestured towards my parents and I. I noticed out of the corner of my eye as Avalon came over to join me on my opposite side.

"I'm sure you remember Lady Ranelle Faire-Mezdor from the Capitol's High Council. This is Lord Logan Mezdor, the Blood Warrior," Marcus continued to introduce, motioning to my parents.

"Been a long time, Ranelle," the man responded, seeming to ignore my father.

"Likewise, Commander," she answered, her voice curt. I glanced at her to see if her facial expression matched her tone.

"And of course, Lady Eris Alexandria Katherine Eos Mezdor, the Dark Child," Marcus continued, gesturing to me with a friendly grin, "as well as her brother, Master Scholar Avalon Mezdor the Prodigy."

The East Coast coven seemed to collectively look at me for only a short moment, clearly not impressed with my appearance or any greeting I could offer. Commander Romano turned his attention instead to Elizabeth and Seren.

"Apologies on our lateness," he said, his voice thick with an American accent I had never heard before. Despite it, he didn't seem to mean his regret. "We decided to take an extra night in Napa at my blood-brother's wineries."

"Standing me up is something I'm used to, Lord Romano," Elizabeth fired back in the same tone he had used. "However, I think you're best apologizing to our Dark Child, Lady Eris Mezdor, and her family," she added, giving him a simpering smile that was filled with blunt intent. I didn't get the sense that she liked to veil her words in shrouds of mystery and double-speak.

The brunette-haired man paused, squinting at her. His brown eyes passed over to Lord Seren who simply stood beside his young coven commander, smiling. Lord Romano turned to look at me again, his grip on his cane tightening. He scanned my appearance another time before shifting his gaze to look at my brother. "My apologies, my lady Mezdor," he said at last.

I smiled, nodding my head in greeting. Taking a cue from Elizabeth and my mother, I decided not to be overly-friendly with my grin. My spine straightened again, hoping my posture was as sophisticated as the strangers that surrounded my family. "Thank you for taking the time, Commander Lord Romano. I've been told you're quite the diplomat."

He stared at me for another moment, seeming to examine me again. But I wasn't sure where I landed on his scale. "Your daughter seems to be your carbon-copy, Ranelle," he said at last.

"Thank you," my mother responded, her mouth twitching into a half-smile. "I'm sorry our arrival cut into your time at the wineries."

"There will be other opportunities," Lord Romano said, his gaze returning to Avalon and I. But I could tell he didn't mean it; this was a trip he hadn't been willing to make. "May I present my wife, Leonora Romano," he added, gesturing to the red-haired woman beside him.

She bowed her head, but didn't bother to curtsy or show any grand gesture of welcome. Her white dress fit tightly to her body, showing off her hourglass figure and thin shoulders.

I tried to guess their ages, but it was a losing battle. Within the first forty-eight hours of leaving home, I had come to realize I truly had no idea how vampires acted. And I was afraid they would find out I was an outsider, devoid of all understanding. I wasn't some luxurious celebrity, by their standards. I could never boast the same amount of poise and refinement as the Shadow Stalker natives.

"My sons, Alessio and Dorian Romano, and my fledgling, TrentonBarry," he added, his hand waving to the men on his opposite side.

"Good to see your council again, Commander Lord Romano," Grand Elder Seren greeted as he walked towards the group of newcomers. "Now that we've all arrived and formalities are out of the way, let us gather in the dining room for the evening meal."

"Of course," Elizabeth replied, giving him a knowing look. "Lord Augustus, please escort our guests to their seats."

"Right this way," Marc said quickly, gesturing back towards the grand foyer.

I fell in line behind my parents, Avalon beside me, as we made our way over to the large dining room. I glanced around to see people move out of the way of our procession, finding the outskirts of the open space. Once between the main staircases, I picked up the hem of my cocktail dress in order to walk up the three stairs to reach the dining room.

A fire flickered in one corner, painting the large room with its black-and-white marble flooring in warm tones of golden light. Above, a large chandelier hung from the raftered ceiling. Its silver metal gleamed in the firelight, joined by the soft white lighting it provided. A pristine dining table waited in the middle of the room with two larger chairs at either head of the wooden table. It was long, easily fitting fourteen chairs around it. Candles trailed down the center of the flat surface, flanked by greenery in tasteful displays. Each place setting was perfectly arranged, holding every utensil and glass needed for formal dining.

I swallowed the hesitation in my throat. This was more elaborate than I had ever experienced. I had only seen such a setup a few times in my life, when our mother had held fancier dinners for our birthdays and the Solstice.

This, this was so much more...

"You'll be okay," Avalon whispered, making me glance up at him. Had he seen the fear that had crossed my face? He winked, as if he could read my thoughts, and then moved forward to the table.

I followed, seeing each place was equipped with seating cards in neat cursive lettering. I found my name sandwiched between my mother and brother, and I sighed in relief. I wasn't ready to stand alone just yet in our new surroundings.

"As is custom, I believe our guests should sit first," Seren Winslow said from off to my right. He stood beside the opposite end of the table, one hand resting on the wingback chair that marked his place.

"Yes, of course, Grand Elder," Elizabeth's voice came from my left. When I glanced in her direction, she smiled and gestured to the chairs. "Please, you've traveled a long way. And we're grateful for your safe arrival."

I grinned, meeting her gaze. Before I could follow suit with my mother, a chair scraped on the opposite side of the table. I looked across the table to see Alessio Romano pause from pulling out his chair.

"I do believe they meant the Mezdors," Commander Romano remarked, his tone cold. His gaze was just as chilling as he took in my parents, brother, and I. His exterior remained steeled, no amount of humor in his tone.

From across the table, Malcolm chuckled quietly. I watched as Contessa's elbow bumped his, also hiding a smirk by glancing downward.

"Thank you, Commander Lady Bartholomeu," both Mother and Avalon said in unison, their manners impeccable.

I found my seat carefully, trying hard not to fall off-balance as my ankles navigated the four legs of my chair and Avalon's. My knees swiveled to face forward just as hands touched the chair back on either side of my shoulders. I nearly started, realizing they were Avalon's. He gave me another knowing look, and I calmed immediately.

I could always count on my brother.

Everyone else sat in their assigned seats, effectively placed by coven. Seren and Elizabeth took up either head of the table. To her right, Marcus waited as her second-in-command, glancing at Contessa directly across the table as the blonde and red-headed male took their seats. Beside the Head of Security, Alessio's ears were still slightly blushed, and I wondered if he even felt embarrassed for his mistake. Commander Romano made himself comfortable in his chair without even bothering to push in his wife's seat. Instead, Dorian Romano took up the task before finally finding his chair. Across the from the East Coast members, the British elders and my father found their seats.

"I am shocked Grand Elder Thorne was not present to greet us," Romano began the conversation topic before anyone else could speak. "Does he no longer warrant my presence as any importance?"

Elizabeth cleared her throat quietly just as Seren managed to open his mouth. But it was Marcus who spoke: "Our apologies, but Grand Elder Thorne has reassigned his efforts to other areas." His tone was polite and professional, and I gathered it wasn't the same manner Elizabeth may have used by the look on her face.

"And Kendall?"

My gaze went from the East Coast leader to our hostess again when she picked up her water glass. Tension flooded into the room immediately.

"My apologies, but you'll be stuck with the coven council to answer your questions for Lord Thorne or Lady Kendall, Commander Romano," she said flatly. "I'm certain you understand."

"Yes, I realize that High-Blood will never think themselves on the same level as the rest of us."

I felt Mum's body stiffen as her elbow slipped off the arm of her chair. Avalon also seemed to brace himself.

"I can assure you that I know better," Elizabeth replied in the same nonchalant, arrogant tone. "The efforts of the war now fully rest on my shoulders for this coven house. Grand Elder Thorne deemed it so before moving into the Capitol, permanently."

Lord Romano seemed to smile with an expression of derision. He picked up his wine glass and began to raise it to his lips.

"Vivat Nocte," Elizabeth added before he could taste his drink, holding up her own.

"To the Shadow," the British elders, the West Coast council, and Avalon replied in unison. Everyone picked up their glasses.

I glanced at my brother as he spoke the words in a solemn tone that sounded like a promise or prayer. He didn't seem swayed by the ritualistic gesture, and I again felt all alone in my new world.

"Yes, how can we forget?" Romano commented before he took a sip from his glass.

I took a shallow sip, quickly reading each of the people around me. The words themselves were unthreatening, but the tone in the room remained clenched with tension. No one smiled except for Grand Elder Seren who stayed relaxed.

Just then, staff members in white shirts and black vests appeared, placing down the first course dish in front of each of us. I leaned back in my chair so I wouldn't be bumped. I took a quick peek at the bowl with its fresh salad.

"I dare say they should change our mantra. Shadows are a failing breed," Romano added with the same tone as he replaced his glass on the table.

"I disagree," Avalon replied, shooting the man a confident grin. From the head of the table, the younger Commander Bartholomeu gave him a quick glance.

Romano seemed to gather himself casually before picking up his salad fork. "We are quickly becoming outnumbered, Master Scholar. Combat Shadows continue to lose ground and our death tolls keep rising," he said. "But I do not expect those of Shadow Scholar and Mage divisions to look away from their books to notice. Only the dwindling few of the Vanguard members truly know what we are up against in the real world, and the rest of us who continue to line the pockets of the government."

"Rank has never had anything to do with knowing the war is outside our doors," Nathaniel Bartholomeu responded. "Changes need to be made, and we should be aware of such."

"Which is why it's necessary for us all to be on the same page to do so," Seren added before taking a sip from his wine glass. His nonchalance at the bristled, political postures made me want to smile.