Each hit of the bass blasting from the stereo feels like a lifetime passing without finding my sister. I start to think that maybe she left the party a while ago or she's pranking us and is at home giggling to herself.

    Except, every time I call her, her phone goes straight to voicemail which is very unlike her. She's practically glued to that phone, meaning she's busy with something else.

    "Mickey Mouse! You made it!" I hear Yasmin before I see her. She pushes through the people with ease, almost like they step out of her as if they're the ocean and she's their Moses. She holds her arms up in the air, a drink in one as she approaches my side and wraps an arm around my shoulders. She studies me, holding the cup to her lips, "You look grumpier than usual,"

    "Not in the mood for your games, Yasmin. I'm just here to find Leila," I shake off her arm, continuing to search through the house as Yasmin follows behind me.

    "Leila, hmmm?" He thinks, tapping on her chin. I don't bother to roll my eyes at her, focusing on looking under tables and inside cupboards for any sign of her. "Oh, the blonde! She's a little young for this scene, isn't she? Or is that just a baby face?"

    "Definitely too young," I inform, exiting the dining room and reaching a staircase leading up to the second floor of the house. "What's up there?"

    "Oh, no," Yasmin replies, stepping in front of me and grabbing my shoulders, her drink long discarded. "Your weak, human self is not going up there. You've given too much blood. Tommy would have a fit,"

    "Oh, please. Thomas can go jerk himself off into the mirror some more," I snap, stepping around her and heading to the staircase. Just as my boot hits the first marble step, I feel her hand wrap around my wrist jerking me back. I hiss, her fingers unknowingly digging into the wound on my arm.

    "You gotta stop thinking you're invincible, Michaela," Yasmin tells me, zoning her eyes in on mine, "You can handle yourself but, in reality, you're Human. You're no match for someone who really wants what's in your veins,"

    "I don't care if someone drinks every last drop from my body," I grit through my teeth, yanking my wrist from her hold, "If my sister is up there, then I will be too,"

    Her face softens at my words, almost like it tugs on a piece of her heart she's long kept buried. "Fine, but I'm tailing you,"

    "Whatever," I say, not having the time to argue as I approach the steps once more and begin climbing.

    As we get to the top, I become awfully aware of the lack of dagger in my thigh holster. I must have left it in the room with Thomas. It feels like I've lost that dagger millions of times lately, yet, it always finds its way back to me. At least I still have the knife in my boot.

    "Why do you throw these stupid parties anyway?" I ask, checking around corners before rounding them. Even though this is Yasmin's house, I catch her doing the same thing. I furrow my eyebrows, wondering what she's got to be looking out for.

    "Afraid I can't tell you that one even if I wanted to," She tells me, reaching for a door handle and pushing it open. Empty.

    "Who's compelling you all?" I ask, standing opposite the room she just checked, opening the door only to discover another empty room.

    "If I could tell you that, It would defeat the whole purpose of compulsion," She smiles at me sarcastically, walking by my side further down the hallway, "What did Tommy do to get your knickers in a knot now?"

    I can't help but snort at her English way of asking what Thomas did to piss me off. The laughter is short-lived as images of Thomas between those girls' knees, draining the pink colour from her cheeks resurfacing in my mind. "Nothing I should be surprised about,"

    "Ah, very vague," She replies, checking another room to her right as I check the left side, "Did you find him with the girl that has the same name as you?"

    "How did you know about that?" I ask, trying my best to ignore the anger I feel towards his lack of restraint. It becomes even harder when I remember the things he said about my parents when I tried to leave.

    "Levi and I were with him when she approached him. Between you and me, he wasn't interested till he saw that tacky necklace," She responds nonchalantly, glancing at me as I keep my face rock solid. I don't want to unknowingly reveal anything to her. "Can't say I'm surprised. Tommy has always had a thing for total bitches, no offence,"

    "Thomas does not have a thing for me. He was drinking her blood, not being warm and fuzzy with her," I dismiss her, checking yet another empty room. Why does Yasmin think upstairs is so dangerous if no one is up here? I subconsciously lift my leg up, reaching into my boot and pulling my pocket knife out, clutching it in my hand.

    "From her neck, I'm assuming?" She begins, gaining my attention at her accuracy, "Yeah, there's a reason we drink from the wrist. The neck is a sensual thing for us. Drinking from her neck is basically foreplay,"

    "Wow, thanks for that nasty information," I cringe, feeling even more disturbed now having confirmation on what I really walked in on, "But, Thomas has had the chance to drink from me before, he hasn't. The name must be a coincidence,"

    "If you think that, then why are you so riled up about it?" She asks, her words like a punch of realisation to the gut.

    Truthfully, the more I think about it the less sense it makes. I guess, in some way, seeing him so close to someone who shares something as personal as a name with me felt like crossing over a boundary I don't want to be crossed. I can talk myself into somewhat helping them, cutting the poison out of Thomas and feeding him as well as helping Alex, I can tell myself that they're trying to help me stop whatever is going on and I need them alive to do that. But, even doing that feels like something too much for me.

    "I'm not riled up-" My words hitch themselves in my throat as I open one of the last doors in the long hallway, two people sitting on the bed. The man sits beside the girl, his face in her neck in a familiar fashion to what I saw earlier. The girl sits beside him, her head falling back like she's unconscious.

    Leila.

    "Get off her!" I yell, running into the room and pulling the man back from my little sister. He pulls back with a fang-filled smirk, her blood dripping from his face. I meet the strangers' brown eyes, looking over his face in a heat of rage. The first thing I notice is the stumble on his face, the small signs of smile lines near his eyes. This man is older than fifteen years.

    "Michaela?" I hear Leila's weak voice, blood spilling from her neck onto the edging of her floral pink dress.

    "She's fifteen, you fucking leech!" I yell, flicking the knife out of the cover and holding it up, ready to land it directly into his heart.

    "Mic, stop! Please!" Leila jumps up, her face still pale as she stands in between me and the man still smiling through a mouthful of her blood. "Please don't hurt him, I love him,"

    "What?" I gape, my eyebrows furrowing as I look from her to the older man behind her. From my position, I see Yasmin enter the room, a look of horror on her face as she joins my side.

    "Zeke?" She questions, her confused eyes moving down to look at my sister, her neck, before looking back at the man. "She's... she's a child,"

    Zeke, that name tugs at a familiar thread. I think to myself, looking between the three other members of the room as it finally comes back to me. Thomas, sitting on the closed toilet seat as he vaguely tells me about his family including his older brother, Zeke.

    "Leila, move," I dead-pan, my knuckles almost turning white as I grip the red cover of my pocket knife. She shakes her head, pushing herself back against the man who's been taking advantage of her naiveness. "Now or I'll move you myself,"

    "Hey, she's a big girl. She can make her own decisions," Zeke joins in on the conversation, eyeing me sadistically as he reaches for the blonde hairs on her neck, moving them aside to better display the two holes in her skin.

    Rage takes control of my limbs, blurring my vision until I feel myself grabbing Leila by the shoulders, pushing her out of the way. I barely hear her yelp as she hits the bed, my anger dulling my senses as I raise my arm in the air, pocketknife clutched tightly.

    Zeke responds faster than light, grabbing me and throwing me into the wall. My back hits a desk, my spine aching as I hit the ground. The air leaves my lungs, my hand reaching back in an instinct to rub at the ache. 

    I look up through my strands of hair, sensing the now empty room around me. No Leila and no Zeke. Yasmin enters my vision, dropping to her knees and grabbing my arms. I waft her away, pushing myself up onto my own two feet. 

    "Please," I sputter, grabbing my pocketknife from the ground as I cough, specs of blood reaching my chin from my lugs. I reach up, swiping the blood from my face, "Find them,"

    Yasmin nods, turning and disappearing at vampire-specific speeds. I cough some more, the regret of my actions filling me before I stumble out of the room, one hand on my sore back while my other dangles by my side with my weapon unscathed.

    Maybe Yasmin is right, I need to stop thinking I'm invincible. I let my anger get the best of me, now, I might have a broken rib or two. 

    I reach the staircase in no time, my body aching after each step. I reach the bottom, looking up to see Thomas staring at me in shock. He rushes over to me, attempting to grab me the same way Yasmin did and help me, but I wave him off.

    "What the fuck happened to you?" He asks. I drop my hand from my back to my side, forcing myself to straighten up and screw my face up in agony. 

    "Lovely family you got," I sarcastically comment, taking a pained step away from him. I can't slow down, not when Leila and her vamp captor are missing. I also would prefer for Yasmin and Alis not to run into each other, at least for now.

    Thomas looks from me to the direction I came from, realisation settling in on his face, "Zeke did this?"

   "Mhmm," I groan in pain, limping further with him following me.

    "C'mon," He begins, grabbing my free arm and wrapping it around his shoulders. I groan in pain from the movement but feel relief once my weight is distributed on him. "Let me help you,"

    "He took Leila," I explain, moving faster now with Thomas's help. 

    Thomas doesn't say much, but I don't miss the way his jaw clenches. He doesn't seem too surprised by his brother's shitty actions, almost like it's expected of his character.

    "He won't be far. Zeke likes a show," He tells me, helping me through the dance floor by shoving everyone out of the way, making sure no one bumps into my battered body. We reach the front door, easing down the steps.

    A scream sends a shock through my nervous system, my ears and eyes perking up when I notice a bunch of drunk people running from the backyard. Thomas practically carried me over there, rounding the side of the house in seconds.

    A part of me wishes we didn't turn that corner, that I didn't make eye contact with my terrified little sister or the sadistic eyes on the man holding his arm around her neck.

    "Leila!" I yell, running towards where Lance holds her tightly at the edge of the pool, the water reflecting on her face like an angel.

    "Ah, not so fast," Lance calls, smirking and tightening his hold on Leila's neck. To my right, I see Alis run into the backyard, not making it far before Yasmin steps forward and grabs a hold of her tightly. Yasmin looks ahead mindlessly, her eyes glazed over as if her soul is outside of her body.

    Suddenly, Levi steps out with the same dazed look. He reaches for me, snatching the weapon out of my hand and yanking my arms behind my back. I scream in pain, feeling my arms stretching as he pulls my back against his chest, trapping me there.

    I crane my neck, turning to Levi to try and plead with him to let me go and overcome his compulsion somehow. He only looks ahead, seemingly unphased besides a single tear running down his cheek.

    I turn to the other direction, ready to beg Thomas to step in only to see him with the same expression, standing by the side of his relaxed brother. Zeke meets my eyes, lifting his hand to wave at me and wink.

    "Michaela!" Alis's distressed voice feels like a punch to my gut. I turn to her, watching as she continues to fight and struggle against Yasmin to no use. All I can do is watch as Thomas robotically walks over and holds her more securely. 

    My body can't find the words to say in a situation like this, every processing part of my brain shutting down as I hopelessly look from Alis to Leila.

    Leila struggles against Lance's hold, Lance not even budging at her efforts. Seeing her fight, her struggle, is an image I can feel burning itself into my memory.

    "You Hunters have always had a bad habit of meddling in Vampire business that doesn't concern you," Lance laughs, gritting his teeth at the anger settling in his body. "It started all those years ago with your dear parents,"

    My parents? My brows furrow, watching as he so nonchalantly mentions something he has no way of knowing.

    "Although, I've always been quite fond of Mickael," The sound of my Father's name leaving his cursed lips causes an unmistakable pain in my body. It's been years since I heard either of them referred to as people, let alone mentioned by anyone outside of my family. The man I got my name from, only existed in my memories until now.

    "How did you know our father?" Alis shouts, still fighting against her human restraints.

    Lance laughs, shaking his head at her words before repeating a single word, "Anyway, I think it's time to end this little game,"

    All I can do is watch in horror as he leans down to Leila's ear, whispering something before releasing his hold on her and stepping back. Lei's body stops shaking, her hand reaching for something in Lance's hand. He easily gives it to her, my eyes widening as she unleashes a silver blade and holds it up to her neck.

    "Leila, no!-"

    My words don't make it to her in time, my arm almost dislocating in my struggle to break free. Leila presses the blade into her skin, red spraying out as she slices across her windpipe. She immediately drops the knife, her blood spraying into the once blue pool, her hands reaching up to her throat.

    Everything feels like it slows down, all the nerves in my body simultaneously dying in place of her. Levi's arms leave me, my bare knees hitting the concrete as I struggle to move my eyes away from my sister. Only when she falls forward, face down into the pool do I feel like my brain wakes up in my head. 

     "Leila," I call weakly, pushing to my feet and running to the edge of the pool where she lies lifeless. Zeke and Lance disappear, but I can't find it in myself to care much about their presence. 

    Numbness overcomes me, my arms reaching out to grab her body and pull her out of the freezing water. Her hair and dress are soaked by both water and blood, her skin as cold as ice as I pull her onto the concrete beside me, her head resting in my lap.

    My shaking hands reach for her neck, feeling for any sign of a pulse in her body. I blink hard, shaking my head when I fail to get any sign of life from her. I link my fingers together, pushing down on her chest rhythmically.

    It's like, one side of my brain knows that CPR doesn't work when it comes to a slashed throat, but a smaller, louder part of my brain is telling me she could be the one in the million and If I don't try then I will never know.

    Her life flashes before my eyes in a weird turn of events, her first steps that I remember watching, the times I would sneak snacks into her room or wake her up in the middle of the night to play games with her even though I would get in trouble for doing so.

    I remember her first school dance when she was stressed because too many boys asked her to go with them. I laughed at the time, mocking her superficial worries. She ended up not going at all, instead, staying home and forcing me to play a board game with her. She always thought board games were nerdy, but secretly loved them.

    My eyes refuse to leave her face, the fear still etched on her soft features permanently. 

    Alis falls to her knees at my side, her hand hesitantly reaching for our sister before jolting back to cover her mouth. 

    I don't pay much mind to her, my shoulders slouching and my hands leaving her chest as I brush her hair from her face. 

    Another presence joins my side, Thomas's hand clasping my shoulder gently as he kneels beside me.

    "Don't touch me," I warn him numbly, refusing to take my eyes off of her and not having the energy to yell. I shake my shoulder, his hand falling away from my body. "You just stood there,"

     "I- I know. I couldn't..." He stutters, unable to find any words to say to me. I know he was compelled, but I can't seem to care much about the reason.

    "You all stood there!" I finally yell, looking in between the three Vampires who stand around us sadly, all of them dead silent. A sob leaves my lips, my chest feeling as though It's caving in on itself. "Help her! Turn her, Now!"

    "Mic, no," Alis shakes her head, lifting her hands to wipe her tears away from her face, "It's against the rules,"

    "I don't care about the fucking rules!" I feel myself screaming at her. My eyes widen, feeling as though they're about to fall out of my head as I turn to Thomas beside me. "Give her your blood,"

    "Michaela," He says sadly, unable to look down at what his Father has done, "It doesn't work like that, not after they're...gone,"

    I know that. I do.

    "Bullshit!" I yell anyway, dropping my head down onto her blood-soaked chest. 

    I find myself closing my eyes, finding a light within myself where my religion used to bury itself. I hold my hands together, interlocking my fingers between my chest and hers. I pray for the first time in years, the faith forced into me finding itself in my darkest and most desperate moment. I beg for her life, promise anything in exchange for her heart to start beating again. 

    No one responds. 

    No one ever responds.