52. Hazel

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October 1st, 2013

Domare sprawled across a couch in the Lancaster living room and Winston was curled up next to him, smiling happily despite the sorry state of his head. Neither my Grandson, nor his slayer were in the best of shape, but their spirits were high. The older (yet still young) vampires of the Lancaster coven occupied the other open seats in the room, watching my Grandson with curious eyes and Winston with hungry ones. Both, however, were far too focused on the television set in front of them, absorbed in a world of flashing color and fiction.

I stepped out of the room, walking down a dark hallway and into a brightly lit kitchen. There was a phone on the wall. I picked it up, and dialed a familiar combination of numbers. Three sharp rings sounded through the speaker at last, and the fourth was broken in half by the sound of a familiar, beloved voice.

"Hello?"

"Cyprian," I said fondly. "It is time to come meet your son."

"Domare?" rasped the man's voice.

"Yes, and there's something else that you should know." I paused, not wanting to say the words, but knowing I had to. When they finally sprang from my lips, the syllables were laced with malice.

"Mordekai St. Vincent is alive."

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