Peter's venom gave her a new life.

The fire it ignited in her veins brought her a new beginning.

She burned a little more than three days. It was Peter's fault, as he hadn't yet gotten the hang of changing humans for he had very little practice compared to his Sire. It was fortunate that he had such a large meal before biting her, because his sister's blood would have been fit for vampire kings. He wondered briefly if the deliciousness of one's blood could be hereditary. Did his own blood taste just as divine? At the time, he wondered if he should ever ask Jasper if he saw him again.

A familiar feeling at the height of his spine told him he would certainly get that chance, though he wasn't sure if he'd take it. Peter had gotten the feeling that his Sire often felt regretful after every new batch of newborn's he created. Sorrowful even for the lives he took, only to force them into a never ending war.

When Peter saw him next, it'd probably be best not to bring up their past together. While vampires have near perfect memories with the exception of their human life, it'd be cruel to speak to Jasper about the days they'd existed in New Mexico.

Just like any other change Peter witnessed, Eden screamed and thrashed around through the ordeal. He didn't like seeing her that way, but he stayed by her side the whole time and whispered lovely things in her ear while he sat with her between his legs, her back to his chest to ensure that she was kept from harming herself.

He told her of all the memories he'd kept after his change. The ones of them that made him happiest. One of his favorites was when he took her out to try and teach her how to shoot. It'd been disastrous at first, since she nearly shot off her own foot, but after hours of practice she would've been able to shoot a bee off a flower. The smile she had thrown him after her first successful shot had been the clearest image in his mind after his change. The image he held onto the most.

Though he remembers loving all his younger siblings, Eden held a special place in his heart. After the death of their parents–with Peter and Eden being the two eldest–they became the head of the house, and from that bond they often leaned on each other the most and relied on one another on their hardest days. Watching over George and Eve wasn't exactly easy for Peter and Eden, being so young themselves when their parents passed, but together they would have been able to take over the world if they wanted to.

Peter tried his best to remind her of their life growing up, to make sure she'd remember her roots into her next life, but the burn melts memories away like butter if you don't hold on to them tight enough. They slip through fingers like sand.

Peter couldn't even tell her what their parents' names were, or what color his own eyes had been. He struggled to remember his younger brother's hair color, or his youngest sister's birthday.

But, like many vampires, he'd become somewhat apathetic to many aspects of humanity.

The color of his eyes just didn't compare to the taste of blood. His parents' names could never compare to the speed he could run. Or the strength he wielded. He wasn't human anymore, so he shouldn't care about his human life or the things humans cared about. Part of being a vampire is moving on, forgetting the past, living a new life. This belief didn't stop him from coming back for his sister, but like he'd told Eden...he was a selfish son of a bitch.

Her screaming stopped only a second before her heart did.

With great reluctance on his part, he had detached himself from her in the corner of the room so she didn't feel threatened by him.

With her new eyes, she could make out all the scars he carried, and like many vampires before her, she would have either the urge to attack him or flee from him.

It had shocked him when she did nothing more than stand and stare at him for no less than a few minutes, not a word spoken between them. Neither of them blinked. They hadn't moved an inch. They didn't breathe.

He did note that his baby sister looked awfully confused though. Surely she was thinking hard about what Peter had done to her. What it meant, and how she felt about it. He was relieved that she didn't seem angry though. Yet. Nor did she look as though she'd forgotten much.

The sights and smells and noise around her distracted her for a time at first, but then she was able to really think.

She stood, eerily still, in the corner of her childhood home. A simple shack in comparison to the grand house Peter burnt down to ashes across town nearly four days ago. Nevertheless, the house in which she stood, it had been her home and it brought some more comfort to her whenever her eyes flew around her.

It had been so long since she had been home.

She was safe there, she reckoned. And while she had not visibly shook from the confusion or anxiousness within her, she was very well trembling on the inside as her advanced brain swept through all the information it was receiving. New smells, new sights, new feelings. Everything had been so startling and sensitive. It was hard to comprehend.

Logically she knew that her brother would not hurt her. Yet there was this primal need to get as far away from her brother as possible, for Peter suddenly looked quite threatening on the other side of the room with silvery-white scars adorning his otherwise flawless skin; more threatening than he did even before she had watched him sink his teeth into her wrists.

She refused to let herself run from him, like her instincts told her to. She refused to hurt him that way. While her instincts told her to run, her heart told her to stay.

While she thought, Peter took the time to calculate the changes to his dear sister.

She'd become a few inches taller, her curves fuller, her hair brighter and longer. Her hair also had more curl to it, rather than the subtle waves before. While she had an innocent look to her, her facial features were more striking. More womanly, though her round cheeks, pouty lips, and wide eyes could be quite misleading.

An angel with the eyes of a demon.

If it weren't for the tattered night dress she wore and the dried up blood and mud on her porcelain skin, she would be undeniably perfect to the human eye.

Peter didn't actually care what she looked like. He was just glad she was there.

"What am I?" Her hand flew towards her throat, her body turning rigid.

Her voice had been pleasant enough before, but with her change her voice became exceptionally softer and as musical as his. Soothing even to his own ears. He imagined how she'd sound to a human's dulled senses.

Peter laughed, unable to help himself as his eyes brightened. Her reactions were endearing, especially compared to the usual frantic and chaotic way he was used to.

"Well, baby sister, you're like me."

She rolled her pretty ruby eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. Peter wondered if she knew how fast she moved. To her, it'd felt natural. Normal even. To a human, it'd certainly look unusual moving an eighth of a second faster than them.

"And what exactly are we, Peter?"

With some hesitance, Peter drawled with a smirk on his lips, "Vampires."

He'd been insulted by her laugh at first and it certainly showed on his face.

"Feel that burn in your throat?" Peter was ashamed that he felt smug when her hands flew to her throat. "That's means you're thirsty. And water just ain't gonna cut it. Blood is what you need. It's what we survive on."

"Blood?"

Her hand clutched her throat tighter, crimson eyes wide.

She hadn't expected this, though she really should have considering everything she had been through since waking up to her elder brother standing over her during the storm. The brother that she had thought to have been dead or at the very least on the other side of the country, never to be seen again. From his marble skin, to his scarlet iris', and his deadly bite upon her flesh...she really ought to have been able to guess just what the hell he was. Because he certainly wasn't human. That was clear from the moment she saw him.

However, she was so happy about Peter coming back for her, she couldn't have cared any less about the how or the why. She just knew she could trust him.

Blood. She has to drink blood.

Her scattered mind went momentarily blank, for just a moment. Then with sudden clarity, Eden realized that Peter had turned her into some kind of monster.

Peter saw the understanding through her eyes.

When Peter's own newborn craze began to wane, he'd realized to the full extent what being a vampire would mean for him. And he didn't like the thought of killing people either, but it's in his nature and as long as he could keep himself from slaughtering a whole town, he learnt to make peace with what he was.

He made a point to stay away from the young and innocent though. Well, he tried.

The night he changed Eden had been his one exception since he gained more control of his feedings. One of Eden's maids had been a few years younger than his sister, but it was a fact Peter had to ignore.

The idea was to kill his sister in the eyes of the public, because being married to such a rich individual, she couldn't simply disappear like he did.

And he couldn't just set a fire with her husband as the only victim. Many of the maids, cooks, or farm hands surely would be quick enough to try to save the bastard and his sister. Killing them all and setting the house on fire had been admittedly quite lazy on his part, but it was the quickest and easiest way to ensure that Eden and her husband would be concluded as dead. No witnesses, no hero attempts, no search parties. No wild theories of monster of the night. No word about an obvious vampire slaughter reaching Italy as long as he cleaned up his own mess.

Surely he could have found another way with less casualties involved, but after five years of waiting to see her, and then finding out how unhappy she was with her life regardless of her husband's riches...well, even as a human, Peter hadn't been all that patient so it was only natural for him to find the quickest solution.

"Peter, I-I don't want-"

I don't want to drink blood. I don't want to hurt people. I don't want to be a monster.

He knew what she was trying to say, so he told her what she needed to hear, "It's the only way."

And just like that, she accepted it. Because Peter wouldn't lie to her, would he? He told her what he thought to be the truth.

"It's gonna be alright," her brother added when she hadn't replied.

Peter would take care of her.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her. "Let's get you fed, baby sister."

When she flew across the room in an uncontrollable burst of speed and crashed into him hard enough to throw them against the wall and leave a human-sized dent, his arms were there to catch her. His feet sank into the wood floors in an effort to stop the momentum. He was ankle deep into the floorboards, but he was laughing and smiling and he was so, so happy.

His laughter shook both of their bodies. His arms were wrapped around her, and his chin rested on her head.

He was no longer cold to touch, nor did he feel like stone.

They were the same temperature. Her body was built like his.

She smiled into his shoulder as she snaked her arms around his middle.

She was like him.