vases and other odd accouterments that you might expect to see in a well-furnished mansion. Marc led Alec to a T intersection with large hallways that went left and right, but didn’t go down either, instead Marc walked straight to a set of double doors with men standing at attention on either side. They nodded once to him and he opened both doors and ushered Alec inside. What Alec saw when he entered made his heart start to thud erratically in his chest and he stopped dead in his tracks. He was in a large sitting room with hardwood floors, polished and shining. To his left was a wall that was nothing but books, and a desk in front of it. To his right was a fireplace that was unlit but looked like it was used often. What had caused him to panic was this room was set up almost exactly like the room in which he had been strapped to an altar and forced to drink blood by Clarissa Wight. There were cosmetic differences, but the placement of the couches and chairs and the other furniture in the room was almost an exact duplicate, except the altar was missing, of course. Marc saw that Alec had stopped and was staring wide eyed at his surroundings and motioned for him to come to him. Alec started forward slowly, his feet dragging and his mind screaming for him to run. Towards the back of the room, Alec noticed a man sitting on one of the couches talking to a woman in a black evening dress. When Marc and Alec approached them, their conversation stopped and the man said, “Could you please excuse us?” The woman made a reply and walked across to the doors to exit. When the doors shut quietly the man narrowed his eyes. “What is he doing here?” Marc stepped forward. “We were attacked.” The man’s eyes snapped to Marc’s face. “By whom?” Even as scared as Alec was at the moment, he couldn’t help but admire the man in front of him. He was older with steel gray hair cut short and piercing blue eyes that Alec swore could see straight through him. His face bellied his obvious age, showing no wrinkles or lines. He was handsome in a regal sort of way. He wore an expensive, tailored gray suit and tie and sat on the white leather couch with his back straight and broad shoulders back. His voice when he talked was rich and deep and strangely made Alec wonder what the man’s singing voice was like. If Alec hadn’t been scared shitless he would have laughed at such an absurd thought. Marc quickly ran through the events; showing up at Alec’s, talking for awhile and then going for a walk in the park for some air. “Once we were there I thought we were being followed but wasn’t sure. Then Alec explained to me all the recent changes he’s been going through and…Silas, he’s exhibiting abilities.” Silas’s eyes flicked back to Alec and examined him. He stood up, walked over to a table and grabbed a decanter of brown liquid and three glasses and then sat. “Please sit,” he said and poured drinks for all of them. Alec sat on the smaller leather sofa to Silas’s right while Marc remained standing. Silas handed them each a drink and saluted. “I have a feeling we are going to need this.” Silas quickly downed his drink and then sat holding his empty cup. Alec took a sip and realized that he was drinking some sort of expensive scotch. He felt the liquid burn its way down his throat to settle warmly in his stomach. He took another sip savoring the taste. Silas poured himself another and set the decanter on the table between himself and Alec. “So what sort of changes and what…abilities?” Marc looked at Alec who sat there, afraid to speak. After a moment Marc said, “It’s okay, you can trust Silas. Tell him everything you told me.” So in a small quiet voice Alec explained the changes he’d seen in his body and how he’d been round and dumpy before. He also told him about his falling forty feet, and landing on his