Jason

When Jason woke up, he knew the other side of the bed was empty, but he found himself rolling over to check anyway.

No Roux.

It was silly, really – they'd only shared her bed for a few days while Renie struggled through the turn – but he'd grown used to the sight of her head on the pillow next to his. He'd grown used to the comfort of having his best friend snuggled up with him, and he missed that.

Now both Roux and Renie had hot vampires to snuggle with instead.

Lucky cows.

Jason sat up, running his hands through his hair.

Roux and Renie's old room stared back at him: the flocked gold wallpaper, soft cream carpet, and lavish curtains more familiar to him than the room he had been allocated when he arrived at Belle Morte.

That felt like forever ago.

After Renie had been turned into a vampire, in the aftermath of the first brutal attack on the mansion, Jason had promptly moved in with Roux and he'd stayed there until she left on a mission with Ludovic.

A mission that had resulted in her becoming a vampire, too.

Perhaps he should have returned to his own room, but this one made him feel closer to his girls somehow. It wasn't like he didn't see them anymore – they all lived under the same roof – but he doubted he'd ever share a bed with them again.

He reached for his phone.

Technically, donors weren't supposed to have them, but Jason had long since moved beyond being a mere donor. When Roux and Ludovic left for their mission, Seamus had been in charge of getting them a phone. After much begging on Jason's part, Seamus had got one for him too. At the time, Jason hadn't thought that Ysanne knew about it. But of course she had. She'd only mentioned it once – to tell him that she trusted him to use it responsibly.

From someone else, Jason might have felt patronised.

From Ysanne, he took it very seriously.

"Okay, world," he said, bracing himself. "What do you have for me today?"

In the days that had passed since Belle Morte went public with the awful news that Roger DeSanti, paedophile-turned-vampire, had killed and turned nine kids so he could keep them as his playthings forever, the public backlash against vampires had been grim. Newpapers and tabloids were calling for vampires to be evicted from the Houses, for the complete abolition of the donor system. They were calling for all vampires to be punished for every tragedy that had occurred thanks to Etienne and Jemima's grab for power. And they were calling for the release of the nine vampire kids currently living at Belle Morte, as if Ysanne was holding them hostage rather than trying to keep them safe.

Jason had spent the last few days going through various social media sites, trying to get a feel for how the outside world currently viewed the inhabitants of Belle Morte. It wasn't easy. All the anger and hatred – that was directed at his friends. It hurt to read about people calling for their punishment, or even their execution in some cases. It was like they'd forgotten that these were actual people they were talking about.

And it wasn't just talk, either.

While Roux and Ludovic had been out on their mission, a vampire-hating fanatic called Iain Johnson had tried to kill them. More than once. Not everyone would go that far but...he had far too many supporters. Iain was still on the run, but just yesterday Jason had read an article called Justice for Johnson, which claimed that Ludovic had started every fight with Iain, and that Iain had simply been defending himself. Never mind that there was video evidence of Iain and his thugs burning down the hotel Roux and Ludovic had been staying in, killing an innocent woman in the process.

Anything that defended Johnson in any way was complete bullshit, but far too many people seemed to be listening to that bullshit. Far too many people seemed to think that vampire blood needed to be spilled, as if that would change or make up for anything that had happened.

The phone rang, and Jason recognised his mum's number. He answered, glad for a distraction from the online ugliness.

"Hi, Mum," he said, settling back against the pillows.

"Hello, darling."

They'd spoken several times since Seamus had got him this phone, and every time there was a taut note of worry in her voice, one that Jason still wasn't used to. She wanted him to come home. He couldn't do that. Not yet, anyway.

"How are you?" his mum asked.

"I'm in the world's comfiest, softest bed, so I can't really complain." His tone was light-hearted, but it was met with silence on the other end of the phone.

His mum didn't hate vampires. She didn't blame them for what had happened, but she wasn't exactly thrilled that Jason had chosen to stay at Belle Morte. So much had gone wrong there, so much death and violence and blood – Jason understood her concerns. But he wasn't going anywhere.

"Jason," she sighed, and he knew what was coming. "Have you thought any more about coming home?"

"Yes," he said, and he had. Staying in Belle Morte wasn't a flippant decision.

"And?"

"And I think you already know the answer."

She sighed again, heavy and full of disappointment.

"Mum, we can't keep having this conversation."

"I just don't understand why."

"I've told you why. I'm a part of this, and I can't just walk away."

"But you're not a vampire."

Jason shifted position, sticking one foot out of the bed. "That's not the point. These people are my friends, and they're facing the prospect of having their whole world ripped away from them."

"I get that, sweetheart, I really do, but what do you think you can do about it?"

Jason hesitated. He was now the only donor left in the mansion, the only human who wasn't part of the remaining security detail, and, truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure where he fitted in. But that didn't mean he gave up and walked away.

"I don't know yet. I guess it depends what the Prime Minister decides," he said at last.

Tomorrow, Prime Minister McGellan was coming to the House to discuss the vampires' future. Jason had to be here for that.

"I know I'm pushing, I just...I worry about you," his mum said.

Jason closed his eyes, suddenly very aware of how big and empty his room was. It felt like forever since he'd seen his family, and the pain of missing them was like a thorn digging into his side. He could go home to them at any point, but he felt that he had a responsibility to Belle Morte. Maybe that was foolish – especially when he really didn't know what good he could do here – but he'd rather be the fool who stayed to help his friends than the coward who walked away because it was easier for him.

"I'm okay, Mum," he said.

Part of him wondered if this was to do with Roux and Renie. Donors were only allowed to communicate with the outside world via letters, and Jason hadn't had time to write any, so his family hadn't known that he'd befriended Renie and Roux. The first they'd heard of the girls was after they had been turned into vampires, and that was more than enough to make Jason's parents worry that he'd meet a similar fate.

"You just need to trust me," he said.

"I do, sweetheart. I do." Her words were at odds with her heavy tone. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, because of course she did, but she simply didn't understand why this mattered so much to him. She didn't understand how important everyone in this House had become, how completely intertwined with his life they all were.

And perhaps, if Jason was really honest with himself, there was another reason he didn't want to leave Belle Morte.

A beautiful, blond reason.

Gideon Hartwright.

Jason pulled his knees up to his chest, trying not to think about Gideon, but it was impossible. From the moment he'd laid eyes on the vampire, Gideon had been on Jason's mind. It was almost pathetic, to feel so much for a man he barely knew, but the heart wanted what the heart wanted.

And Jason's heart wanted Gideon.

"Jason? Are you still there?" his mum asked.

"Yeah, I'm here." Sitting up straighter, he did his best to put Gideon out of his mind.

"You know that I'll support you whatever you do. I might not understand it, but if it's important to you then I will support it."

Jason nodded, even though she couldn't see him.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, too, Mum."

They chatted a bit more, mostly about what Jason's dad and siblings were getting up to, and then said their goodbyes. Jason dropped the phone onto the satin pillow next to him and stared wistfully at it.

His life outside Belle Morte might seem like forever ago, but that was where his family was. He felt caught between two worlds, like his heart belonged in two different places at once. Reconciling those two worlds wouldn't be easy, but he had to do it.

For now, though, Belle Morte was the priority.

Jason climbed out of bed and stretched, wincing as the shallow slice along his ribs pulled with the movement. He'd earned that little injury in the final fight for Belle Morte. It was healing nicely, and he couldn't tell yet if it would leave any kind of scar, but he hoped it wouldn't – not for the sake of his vanity, but because he didn't need any physical reminders of that night. The memories were more than enough.

He gazed around the room, at the bits and pieces Renie and Roux had left behind – some clothes still hanging in the wardrobe, a stray shoe in one corner, a couple of tubes of lipstick on the dressing table. Although he'd moved his own clothes and toiletries in, he'd left everything else exactly as Renie and Roux had. The little things they'd forgotten were welcome reminders that they had lived here, however briefly.

In some ways he still thought of this as their room, yet at the same time he couldn't imagine leaving it – or the mansion – behind, and returning to his small bedroom in the terraced house he shared with his family. That was another life, another world.

How could he go back to that without leaving all this behind?

Jason squared his shoulders. He'd just have to find a way. He wasn't going to choose between his past life and his current one. No matter what happened, Belle Morte and the people who lived there would always be a part of his life. He loved them too much for it to be otherwise.

A flurry of knocks sounded on his door.

"Jason, honey. Are you decent?" said Roux.

He glanced down at the boxers he was wearing. They were a little tight . . . eh, Renie and Roux were his friends. Nothing they hadn't seen before. "Decent enough," he replied.

The door opened and his girls came in, their eyes bright.

Renie lifted both eyebrows. "You call that decent? Those boxers aren't leaving much to the imagination."

Jason struck a Mr Universe pose and blew her a kiss. "I didn't want to deprive you of a little morning eye candy."

She grinned wide enough to show off her fangs. "I'm sleeping with Edmond Dantès. That's all the eye candy I'll ever need."

"Ah, but he doesn't tease you with sexy poses, does he?" Jason said, wagging a finger at her.

Her grin only widened. "How would you know?"

Jason had no comeback for that. Gideon was the guy who really fired his blood, but he'd have to be blind not to notice that Edmond was hot with a capital H, and the thought of him flexing his muscles while wearing next to nothing made Jason wish he was wearing a few more clothes.

"What can I do for you, ladies?" he said, throwing on the nearest thing to hand – a floral silk dressing gown that was far too small for him and barely covered anything.

Roux gave him an arch look. "Isn't that mine?"

Jason shrugged. "Probably. But you left it here so, finders, keepers." He returned her arch look. "I get the feeling that with Ludovic around you don't need a dressing gown anyway."

Roux just grinned. "You're going to want to get dressed properly."

"Why? What's going on?"

"The new vampires are on their way."