Summer of 1904

Dallas, Texas

She woke up in a cold sweat. Her body shivered. For a just brief moment, she forgot how to breathe.

Her husband lied peacefully unaware beside her. She could distinctly smell the whiskey coming from his open mouth and the fresh piss on the sheets.

Rain pelted the roof above her, thunder drummed outside the walls, and lightning flashed through the curtains of the window, illuminating the room with fine, white light. She flinched at the sound and closed her eyes against the brightness.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands shook, and her flesh prickled. She did not know why she had woken up so abruptly, but she knew she felt afraid. As she willed herself to calm down, she searched her mind for an answer. She didn't get one until another flash of light struck the bedroom, and her sky blue eyes locked onto the scarlet red eyes of a man she vaguely recognized.

He stood over her at her bedside, his body eerily still and silent. He was a mere arm's length away.

A scream nearly tore out of her throat had he not placed his frozen hand over her mouth. The choked noise she made was muffled behind his solid palm. He was crouched in front of her now. The index finger of his free hand pressed against his lips in an obvious plea for her silence. A soft 'shh' sounded through the limited space between them. Her eyes flicked to her husband, who had not once moved or shifted since she woke.

Staring at the man in front of her, and her mind went blank. Her body felt numb.

She knew this man.

She knew him.

He was her brother, and yet, he was not.

His features were different, sharper than she remembered. His nose was perfectly straight, like he'd never gotten it broken fighting a man in the saloon for making a nasty remark about her. His shoulders were broader, not as hunched as she remembered. His jaw more chiseled. The hair on his cheeks, chin, and upper lip looked much too groomed and not at all like the overgrown, scraggly mess she'd last seen it in.

When he noticed her calming, he smiled at her. His teeth were straight and white and...gleaming. Even in the dark she could see the strange way his teeth shone with an unnatural shine that had her transfixed. Her body trembled as his crimson eyes bore into her, slowly taking in every inch of her face.

"You've grown, Eden" he had said fondly in a nearly silent whisper. She almost didn't hear him over the sound of the storm. Both outdoors and within her.

His voice was even different, no longer the rough and throaty sound it had once been, but smoother and silkier in comparison. His voice was almost musical.

He sounded like her brother, and yet, he did not.

Tears overflowed from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks and rolling over the back of the hand he still held over her mouth. His head tilted. He looked curious. Unsure of what was soaking his flesh.

Not once had he blinked. A fact that hadn't escaped her notice, only because she hadn't blinked herself in fear of him suddenly disappearing.

Slowly, he removed his hand and brought it up to his face, inspecting the wetness there. Eyeing her tears strangely.

She gasped quietly as he inhaled deeply through his nose, his eyes falling shut.

When he opened them, his red eyes were replaced by pools of black. He licked his lips. She leaned away from him as he drew nearer. His nose was only inches away from hers. He inhaled once again, more deeply than before, and her body froze on it's own accord, without her even telling it to. She felt paralyzed.

At her whimper, he drew away and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He shut his eyes tight, and when a flash of white light flickered throughout the room once again, she'd finally noticed that he was drenched head to toe from the rain. His clothes may have been nice once, but now looked as if he'd been wearing them days if not weeks long.

His lips were moving, but not a single word reached her ears. He spoke to himself for a minute, and she continued to watch him, unable to think or move.

After a few moments, his eyes opened, and though they were still dark, they weren't alike the pits of darkness they had been only moments ago. They were a deep burgundy red.

She had so many questions. So many things to tell him. She didn't know how to start.

He'd gone missing five years prior, at the age of twenty-two. Everyone told her he must've either left town for good or got himself killed. For a long time she was ashamed to admit that out of the two, she had hoped for the latter, as the former had been more painful to bare in her eyes. She'd rather him be dead than abandon her.

After a long silence, all she could choke out was his name.

"Peter?"

With his strange silky voice, he replied in a soft murmur, "Hello... baby sister."

Her anguish, fear, and confusion gave away to this sudden fiery rage that flared up from the deepest part of her very soul. Like a switch, her body and mind was her's again. Her feelings were in control.

Oh, how she wanted to shoot him right then and there. The truth was finally revealed to her. It was there, kneeling before her at her bedside.

He had left her. She was only seventeen years old, with no mother or father to care for her and Peter had left her all alone.

At that moment, while she stared at this stranger who looked and talked just like her brother–and yet, he wasn't–she'd rather he was dead. It would have been a relief comrade to the betrayal she felt in that moment. it seeped into her bones as fast as lightning. The pain of it made her want to scream.

Thunder roared on beyond the four walls. Walls that were so elegant in design, and yet, they'd never held the warmth that her old home did. Her home with her brother. The one he left without a goodbye.

She had no choice but to marry when Peter disappeared. She had no money to take care of herself. There was no will left in Peter's or her name that allowed her any ownership of the house she grew up in.

She had wed a man a decade older than her. A selfish man that cared only for looks and money. A man that had no qualms raising a hand to her when she'd been disobedient or simply outspoken. A man who pretended to love her in the eyes of the public, but neglected her in the comfort of his one-hundred acres. A man who had been so angry when it was discovered that his new ,beautiful, young wife could not bare any children and reminded her every chance he got what a disappointment of a woman she made. A man that indulged himself every other night at the whore house, only to then come home to fall into bed a drunken heap. A man who held her in his sleep, not because he cared for her, but because he was a possessive bastard. She knew that he was a bad man and would be an even worse husband before marrying him. She'd seen his selfishness, his greediness, and his violent tendencies, even when no one else did. She saw his true self only seconds after looking into his eyes, but no one else wanted her. She had nothing else. She was so, so alone.

Peter had left her to that, and as she trembled in front of him while he smiled at her like he'd never gone, she wanted nothing more for him to be dead.

His skin was so cold, Eden noticed again, as his hands wrapped around hers, holding them still so they would not shake any more.

Her eyes, that glistened with tears of hurt and anger, snapped up to his.

And in his scarlet orbs, she still saw her brother. Her brother that was still so bright and warm underneath dark shadows and snow cold skin.

She couldn't look away from him. The storm still raged on in the heavens, her husband slept on, the racing of her heart finally began to slow. Just a little.

Then he opened his mouth. "Eden," he breathed, so softly. Lovingly. His deadly smile filled her with warmth. "I've missed you."

The anger left her right then, because, by God, she missed him too. She thought of him everyday. Prayed to God, begged Him. Please, bring my brother back to me.

She let out a sob and when he opened his arms to her, she wasted no time jumping into them.

"Some said you were dead," Eden cried to her brother, her arms tightening around him, hands clutching his soaked shirt. "Some said you left me."

He didn't want to tell her that they had all been right, it simply wasn't the time to explain. So he only responded by gently saying, "I want to take you away, baby sister. Will you come with me?"

He was asking her for permission. Something he rarely ever did in his life. He used to always say he knew best. He made all the decisions for her growing up, so it goes to show how lost she was when he disappeared. Why she made such bad decisions when he wasn't there to guide her. She nodded her head against him, not fully realizing what she was getting herself into, just knowing that she couldn't bare the thought of being away from him again.

His fingers trailed through her hair and down her back. "I'm gonna take care of you," he promised.

He felt just like her brother, and yet, he did not.

His skin was hard, his body was too still, and his hold on her was nearly painful, but she didn't care. It was still him. Her Peter. She couldn't say how she knew, but she just did. This stranger, this man, who came in the dead of the night, in the middle of a storm, looked and sounded like her brother. There was something in her that said, don't let him go. So she wouldn't.

He easily stood with her in his arms, her feet dangling above the ground, her arms wrapped around his neck. She cried into his granite shoulder as he began to walk them out of the bedroom and down the grand staircase that lead to the foyer. He no longer limped like he did before he disappeared, she noticed. His walk was smooth and sturdy and his footsteps made no sound on the hardwood floor. She remembered when he broke his leg from being thrown off their horse and it never healed quite right and she could make out his steps with her eyes closed. For a moment, she thought perhaps she was really just dreaming, as they glided down the grand staircase of the manor. Then she decided quickly that if this was a dream, then she never wanted to wake up.

Maybe if she had cared about her husband, like many wives do, she'd have noticed that Charles wasn't breathing beside her when she woke. If her face hadn't been buried into Peter's neck, she'd seen trails and puddles of blood throughout the house, bodies lying pale and frozen in their path. She would have seen the way Peter walked over them like they weren't there. Like they were nothing.

She only lifted her head when Peter had knocked a lantern over on the way out the front doors, the shattering of glass startling her. When she lifted her head, the carnage was out of view, but she watched over Peter's shoulder as the candle fire followed multiple lines of kerosene, swallowing the foyer in a blinding fiery light.

It was still pouring when he finally set her on her feet, his back towards the house slowly being filled by amber flames. Through every window, she saw the flames burn brighter by the second. Some windows burst from the heat.

No one was screaming.

When she stood there, face blank as she watched her home burn from the inside out. Peter knew right there, that even if she had noticed all the death and blood inside, she wouldn't have cared.

Peter studied her.

Her night dress was soaked within seconds of them stepping outside. Her dark blonde hair hung down to her bellybutton, darkened by the rain. Her feet and ankles were splattered in mud.

She shivered from the cold, but a small smile curled at the corner of her trembling lips. A content little smile that would have sent a shiver down Peter's spine if her were human.

When her eyes turned to him, he realized he'd done the right thing by coming back for her.

Still, to be fair to her, he thought he should try to warn her. Give her a chance to change her mind.

"I ain't the same as I was."

She nodded as if in agreement. She had already come to this conclusion. He's my brother, and yet, he is not.

His brows rose, surprised, but his words were cautious, "You ain't gonna be the same either."

"Will I be like you?" She asked loudly over the rain. Thunder followed her words.

"You'll be better!" Peter answered her with confidence. "Like me, but better." He said to himself.

Her eyes closed.

"Is–Is George really gone? Or is he like you, too?" Her question nearly broke his dead heart.

He understood why she asked, but it was depressing all the same. If one brother can come back from the dead, why not the other?

"He ain't coming back, Sugar." Her breath hitched slightly. Her shoulders deflated in disappointment.

"And Eve? What about Eve?"

Peter remembered Eden the most. Hell, he loved her the most. But that didn't mean he'd forgotten their youngest sibling. "She's happy where she is, Eden. I haven't got the right to take that from her."

"Is that why you're here? Because I ain't happy enough? I wasn't happy the moment you left."

Peter could not help but flinch at that. He'd explain to her soon enough, he told himself. She'll know that he had no choice in the matter. He shook his head and slicked his hair back with one hand. "I would've come sooner," he told her, ignoring her comment to revisit later. "But, it wasn't easy, baby sister. I'm here now, because... well, because it was about damn time. And when I'd seen you, how you were livin', I stopped caring about all the consequences. The fact I'm here at all just means I'm a selfish son of a bitch, Eden."

"Consequences?"

"Consequences of making you like me." Peter elaborated, pointing between them. "It ain't gonna be painless." In more ways than one.

Eden looked hesitant then, finally. She wrapped her arms around herself. Peter wished he could protect her from the cold, but he had no warmth to give her. "Will it be bad, being like you?"

"Oh, it'll be bad alright," he laughed, smiling sardonically. Then his smile softened. Crimson eyes sparkled with anticipation. With hope. With resolution. . "It'll be worth it!" He raised his voice for her to hear. He stepped closer to her. His forehead fell to rest against her's. She closed her eyes again. "I really have missed you, Eden. You've been my happiest memories." It was the truth. The few memories he had kept, she was in all of them. Clearer than anyone else. Her voice the loudest. Her smile the brightest.

"You're my happiest memories, too, Peter." She replied, and his heart soared. He was so worried that his sister would hate him. That she would turn him away like the monster he was. "I–I know you're different. I know you're something dark and dangerous. I can see it in you." He tilted his head at that. "But, your still my brother. I can see that in you, too" she told him passionately. "But, I'm scared, too, Peter."

He thought her awfully brave to admit that.

Peter also thought she was a devastatingly beautiful sight, standing there before him, shivering in the rain and shouting at him over the storm. She looked a little like a drenched cat, but the emotion in her eyes, the power in her voice, was absolutely beautiful.

He would hear her just fine, even if she whispered to him, but she wasn't like him yet, so he shouted, too. He liked it. It felt human. He was already starting to be happier with her beside him. It made his decision to make himself known to her all the more validated.

"I'm scared, too!" He told her confidently.

"I don't know if I can handle much more of this life," she looked passed him, flames reflected in her eyes. A frightened horse sprinted right by her, running from the fire as fast as possible. She hardly even flinched. Before making his move into the house, Peter had let the horses out of the barn, just because he could. Like Eden, he loved the beasts. He hated that they were afraid of him as he was, but he still loved to watch them run.

Peter's sister's gaze switched to the horse and she watched it run for a moment. The horse was hers, but she hadn't ridden the girl in ages. Her husband said she hadn't needed to, because he'd bought a fancy automobile for them to travel in. Only the wealthiest people had them and he liked to show off. He didn't understand that she liked riding for her own enjoyment. Or maybe he did, and that's why he had her stop.

Peter had no problem killing the bastard Eden married, but he wanted to watch his fancy house burn, too. Everyone else he killed had been for fun. He hadn't felt so full in ages. He even felt a bit sloshy from all the blood, not wanting to be wasteful. In his new life, he'd turned a little vindictive and he saw them all as obstacles in the way to his sister's happiness. He saw them as her jailers.

Softly, to herself she said, "I'm so empty here."

When Peter woke up after the burn, his first thoughts were revolved around his thirst. When his mind wasn't in such a frenzy, his next thought had been about his sister and the way she was left behind. When it became obvious that he couldn't go near her without hurting her, he had no choice but to stay where he was. He hated being a part of the Southern Vampire Wars, but he hated being apart from his sister even more. For five years he worried about her. For five years he planned on what he'd do when he saw her again.

Initially, he'd only want to check on her, to see if she was doing alright for herself. He wanted closure. Something to ease his guilt. Being a vampire was hard when one still had a human to love.

After five years, he finally had a handle on his thirst and while the Mistress was off camp scouting new recruits, Peter took his chance. He somehow knew it'd be his only one.

The gift of intuition was useful for more than just war strategies. It guided him to his deepest desires. It made every move he made the right one. The best one.

His Sire intercepted him. Asked him where he was going. Peter couldn't fight his Sire's empathetic gift, and ended up telling him the truth. I have a sister. She needs me. I need her. I've been gone long enough. It's time for me to go.

Something in Peter must've gotten through to his Sire, for he stepped aside and told Peter under no circumstance was he to come back or he'd have to kill him.

Peter had never run so fast before, even as a newborn, but he made sure to focus on his gratefulness and his happiness before he went so that his Sire may feel it, too.

Peter had worried when he didn't find Eden at the house they grew up in, but after eavesdropping in on the town life, he knew how to find her after only a few hours. He'd been surprised by the size of the land and the fancy house she lived in.

He'd watched her for almost three days before coming to a conclusion. He swore than even if she didn't want to come with him - be like him - killing that bastard for her would have been enough. But after he drained her husband, and he spent a few minutes watching her as she slept, he knew he couldn't just walk away afterwards, no matter what she said to him.

"Eden, if you agree to this, just know that you'll never be able to get rid of me. " Peter vowed, his arm wrapping around her soft, warm, fragile waist. "I'll be here for you, forever. I'll do my best to protect you. And as long as I walk this Earth, I won't let you be empty ever again."

She looked surprised that he'd heard her previous words, but the shock melted away and she began to smile.

Peter spoke before she could reply, "You were right to say that I'm different. I am dark and I am dangerous. I'm downright evil, Eden. I'm a monster. I do monstrous things. And if you come with me, you're gonna be a monster, too. And there's no turning back. There's no changing your mind after it's done. There's no coming back to this," he told her, nodding his head in the direction behind him. The fire still blazed on, even against the heavy rain. The fire hadn't quite reached the outer walls, so the flames lived on inside, burning the regal furniture and lifeless bodies inside. Expensive portraits, pretentious clothes, fancy dinner plates...the bodies drained of their blood. It'll all be ash by morning.

Eden took a deep breath, a few tears slipped down her face, mixing in with the droplets of rain on her cold cheeks.

"Will we have fun, like we used to?"

He remembered how much they laughed when they were younger.

He let go of her, took a step back and spread his arms out.

"Darlin', we're going to have the most fun in the world!"

Her grin widened. "Do you promise?"

Peter smiled back and held out his hand, palm up towards her. She didn't hesitate.

She took his offered hand and he swept her off into the rain that night to the place they were born and sealed her fate by placing his teeth upon her wrist.

She screamed for three days.