Marcus led Zoë back to the diner. By the time they arrived there wasn't any sign of the chaos Marcus and his assailants had caused. He was thankful for that; as he casually looked around them, making sure they weren't being followed, Marcus decided he wasn't going to tell Zoë he had brought her right back to where he had been attacked. Maybe later–or maybe not. Steering her by the elbow he gently led her to the parking lot, urging her into the passenger seat of his car and then quickly drove off.

They drove for about twenty minutes. The blocks of houses slowly started to spread out, and the size of the houses slowly began to become larger. Finally they were somewhere where each mansion--yes, mansion--had a plot of land attached to it, unlike the city proper where each lot butted up against one another, leaving only room enough for small gangways. Zoë had only seen places like this in movies.

Quickly the landscape changed again, and huge office buildings started to pop up. Zoë. found herself in a mini-city, skyscrapers and all. They passed two malls, yet still hadn't reached their destination. When they passed over an on ramp to a highway, Zoë began to wonder just how far they were going.

"Where are we going?"

"To my second safe house. It's not that much farther."

A few minutes later they had arrived at their destination, Zoë gawking at the multi-story building. Blue glowing letters were affixed to the top, spelling out the name of the establishment. She unbuckled her seat belt and scrambled out of the car in sheer disbelief. Not even attempting to hide her shock, Zoë gaped up at the hotel.

It read LaBelle Suites. LaBelle Suites was one of the most high-class, expensive hotel chains in the world. The empire had been built in the 70's, gaining traction in the 80's, and becoming the mega-house it was today in the 90's. LaBelles were right up there with Hiltons and Marriotts.

"Wait," Zoë said, watching the building as though it were about to move, "wait wait wait. LaBelle." Her head snapped to Marc walking beside her. "You've told me your last name is LaBelle. You're the LaBelle?"

He merely shrugged, slipping on his sunglasses even though it was the middle of the night.

"No," Zoë said in disbelief.

"Yes."

"No."

He swiveled his head to her. "Why do you find it hard to believe I own a hotel chain?"

"Oh gee, I d'no," Zoë said, her words biting in sarcasm, "maybe because you're a freaking vampire!"

Still facing one another in the parking lot, Marcus pulled out his wallet and quickly handed her his driver's ID. Sure enough, it was his name on an Illinois license with his face plastered on it.

Marcus removed something else from his breast pocket. "What can I say? I got bored."

Zoë handed him back his ID. "You got bored? Bored? So you built a hotel empire—oh my God what are you doing?"

Marcus had flicked his wrist, and a red and white walking cane unfolded. He slid his arm into hers, doing the familiar tap-sweep-tap, tap-sweep-tap.

"You're my sister, in from France," he explained seriously, not stopping what he was doing, "Your name is Rose, and you're on holiday."

"You're not seriously pretending to be blind?" she asked, sounding mortified.

Marcus kept his head straight. "In the 70's I made sure to do everything behind the scenes. With how the workplace changed in the 80's, I had to actually attend meetings and stuff. I tried contacts for my eyes but they were shitty back then and they hurt. In the 90's I went back to working remotely as often as I could. By then we were so big I could be much more hands off. Any time my presence was demanded, I wore sunglasses, making up that I had a degenerate eye disorder."

"And now?"

He chuckled. "Well, now I'm my own grandson. In the 90's I wore a hat, my hair tied back and under it so I looked slightly different. But hey, if bad eyes run in the family, it's no stretch of the imagination that the son of the man who had a degenerative eye disorder was blind."

Zoë was impressed. All she could do was snort.

When they entered the building, and the bright light of the lobby made everything clear, Zoë noticed that Marcus had applied makeup at some point. Seeing him with a normal skin tone was...odd. She was used to his nearly completely white complexion. As they walked to the counter, the woman behind it grinned.

"Mr. LaBelle! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Bonsoir ma amour mademoiselle. Comment vas-tu aujourd'hui? Tout vas bien j'espere?"

Zoë was floored. Marcus spoke whatever he had said flawlessly, a thick accent coming out of nowhere. The woman behind the counter was charmed. She laughed, blushing, putting a hand on her chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand."

Marcus flashed his smile, the one perfectly concealing his fangs. Zoë only assumed it must've taken him ages to get it right.

Marcus inclined his head. "I just asked how you were doing this evening."

"Oh," the receptionist replied, sounding a little relieved. She was still blushing though.

"You're--" Marcus continued, furrowing his brow, feigning concentration. After a moment he continued. "Julie, right?"

The woman blushed further. Zoë had to literally bite her tongue to keep her from rolling her eyes. Her name tag was right there.

"You have such a good memory Mr. LaBelle! I've met you, what, once before?"

Still smiling, he tapped the side of his head. Zoë practically threw up in her mouth. The woman then turned her head to Zoë.

"Who's this?"

Before Zoë could even respond, Marcus spoke. "My sister."

Zoë extended her hand. "Rose."

They shook. "A pleasure to meet you, Rose." She looked at Marc. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"Yeah, well, neither did I."

They both laughed. Zoë was seriously at risk of puking with how corny Marcus was being. Was he always like this? It was embarrassing.

"She's in on holiday," Marcus continued, smiling sweetly at his employee with his closed lips. Unexpectedly he grabbed Zoë around the neck, giving her a noogie.

"Marcus--!"

"Tais toit, petite imbecile."

Zoë glared daggers. She wasn't sure exactly what he had said, but she recognized imbecile.

The woman grinned. "Cute."

"Anyway," Marcus said, "we must be on our way."

"Of course. Thanks for chatting, Mr. LaBelle. Ring me if you need anything. It was nice meeting you, Rose."

"Er," Zoë said, twisting her head as Marcus all but dragged her towards the elevator. "Merci?"

The woman waved at her. As soon as the doors were closed, Zoë leaned against the back of the elevator. Marcus hit the top floor button, the elevator springing to life with a chime. Zoë sighed heavily.

"Please don't ever put me in that position again Marc. I know zero French."

He smiled faintly. "You said 'thank you' just fine."

Zoë rolled her eyes.

As a few floors chimed by, Zoë became aware of a shift in the atmosphere. It became decidedly tense and uncomfortable. Zoë looked at Marcus. He stood, both hands resting on his cane, staring at a spot on the door.

The elevator slowed down and halted. A family, all wet and in bathing suites, entered. They were talking boisterously and laughing, joyfully oblivious to the two people standing at the back of the elevator. The next floor chimed and the metal box came to a stop again, the family existing. As soon as the doors slid shut, Marcus spoke.

"I had a little sister. Her name was actually Rose. I murdered her."

Zoë's blood ran cold. She looked at Marcus. His lips were pursed, but besides that she couldn't read him. The sunglasses didn't help. A sick knot formed in the pit of her stomach, and it didn't leave even when they reached the top floor and he left the elevator. Zoë stayed glued to her spot, stunned, having to scramble out at the last second before the doors shut.

She followed him to an emergency door at the end of the hallway. Marcus removed a keycard from his wallet, sliding it into the receptacle. The reader blinked green and he opened the door. Zoë was surprised when there weren't just stairs going down, but going up. Once the door was shut securely behind them, Marcus folded the cane and put it away with his sunglasses.

"I need you to listen to me," Marcus said very seriously as they ascended the stairs. "This can't turn into another situation like you promising to not enter my room and then doing it."

She frowned. That hurt. He wasn't wrong, though. Biting her lip, she nodded.

"I will enter the suite and then tell you when you can come in. Do not walk in until I come get you. You will die."

"I won't." When he glared, she added, "Promise."

She did as she was told. After a minute, Marcus popped his head back out and grinned. "Thanks for waiting."

"So," Zoë said, nervously walking in and looking about herself, "what was that about?"

"See the plants?" Marcus asked, moving further into the penthouse suite, gesturing to the large plants situated at either side of the large doorway. "Take a peek inside."

Zoë moved aside the foliage. She yelped and jumped back when she found an arrow pointing directly at her nose. Feeling very uncomfortable, she rushed forward.

"Did you notice the keypad by the door?" Marc asked over his shoulder.

"I did not," Zoë replied, stopping to admire the impressive view. She could see everything, including the skyline of Chicago off in the far distance. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes and she bit her lip.

"It's a hand scanner."

Zoë twisted. Marcus had disappeared into a back room. This place was more like a huge apartment than a hotel suite. "You have fingerprints?"

"Of course," he called from wherever he was. "If my hand doesn't press it within three seconds of the door opening, or if it's not my hand, the security system immediately activates."

Zoë looked back out the window. She yearned for Chicago. A sinking feeling hit her; she'd never be back there again.

"The door re-locks. The sprinklers are filled with holy water up here, and they activate. Simultaneously the crossbows in the plants activate. If I don't deactivate the system by pressing my hand against the scanner in five minutes, a second system switches on and the room fills with silver gas."

Zoë craned around again. "Gas?"

Marcus walked out, carrying a small box in his hands. "Anything can become a gas, Zoë"

Zoë looked down at the box Marcus held out to her. Though it was a simple, plain box, something felt...Wrong, about it. Confusion hit her as she was filled with an uneasiness, the hairs standing up on her arm. "What is that?"

Marcus removed the cover. To her surprise he held up a very old looking necklace. It was a pendant with the strangest emblem, unlike any symbol Zoë had ever seen.

It looked like the English letter 'P', and at the bottom was an 'X'. This first symbol was encased by a pentagram, and the entire thing was encircled by intricate lines that coiled around each other, reminding Zoë of Celtic knots.

The longer she stared at it, the longer an irrational fear gripped her soul. Her brain was telling her she was in danger, but logically that made no sense; how could a pendant put her in danger?

She tore her eyes away from the pendant, forcing them back to focus on theont he vampire. "W-what is that Marcus?"

"To be honest with you, I don't know. All I know is that it's a relic among vampires. It's passed down generation to generation. It was never explained to me why." He licked his lips, and Zoë could have sworn he spoke in excitement. "I do know that it's very important and powerful, once being owned by Lucifer himself."

Zoë recoiled, nearly shrieking. "Lucifer? How can you sound so excited?"

"Excited?" Marcus took a step forward, face growing serious. Gulping, Zoë took a step back. Marcus shook his head.

"That vampire that attacked me? I noticed he had a tattoo on his neck. I came here because I thought it looked like this symbol. Sure enough, it's one in the same."

Marcus took another step forward, Zoë stepping back. Her breath was nowhere to be found as she looked up at him in fear.

"So, let's summarize--I am in possession of something that the devil himself once owned, and suddenly a very powerful vampire with the same symbol tattooed on him decides to attack me? In broad daylight, mind you?"

Marcus took yet another step forward, hunching over, looming over Zoë. He narrowed his eyes. "Excited? You'd have to be a lunatic to think I'm excited."

Zoë finally breathed. "W-what are we going to do?"

To her relief, Marcus put the necklace gingerly back in its box, slipping it into his shirt pocket. He put on his sunglasses. "I don't know."