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In Jeremy's room, Mallory was looking through his room, admiring the storm

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In Jeremy's room, Mallory was looking through his room, admiring the storm. After a moment, she turned to Jeremy, who sat on his bed. She smiled at Jeremy, "I love storms."

"Is that a vampire thing?" Jeremy asked her curiously, "'Cause I read vampires don't like running water."

"That's in Dracula's case," Mallory informed him, "But Dracula's not real. Some vampires like storms when it's daytime because it gets so cloudy that even without a daylight ring, they're able to walk in the daytime." She paused, leaning against Jeremy's desk, "Anyways, first rule about vampires: Don't believe anything you read."

Deeply interested, Jeremy abruptly stood up and walked toward Mallory, "You gotta tell me more. I gotta go." He pleaded and Mallory couldn't help but chuckle at him.

Mallory turned to Jeremy and shook her head, "No, you don't, Jer." She told him with a sigh, "'Cause you're not going to be one."

"Come on, you can't keep saying 'no' to me," Jeremy replied, smiling, "It's impossible."

Mallory smiled, taking a step toward Jeremy, "How so?" She questioned playfully.

"Because how could you say 'No' to this face?" Jeremy commented, gesturing toward his own face.

"It's still a 'No'," Mallory replied as she laughed at Jeremy, who sighed in defeat, "Look, I refuse to turn someone who learned everything he knows about vampires from Netflix."

"That's not true, and you know it," Jeremy argued, "I bet you've turned others for no reason at all."

"How do you know I've turned others, huh?" Mallory asked Jeremy curiously.

"Because, you've made these inside jokes before, thinking I wouldn't catch them. But I understand them know. The way you've mentioned feeling as if it had been 'Centuries' since you've done something. So if I'm guessing correcting, I bet you're more than a hundred years old." Jeremy explained and Mallory smiled, nodding her head.

"You catch on quickly, Gilbert," Mallory replied, "But multiply that by eight, that's my age."

Jeremy's eyes widened in shock, "You're eight hundred years old?" He asked in disbelief.

"Close to it," Mallory informed him, "In a couple weeks, I'll be eight hundred. I've been around for a long time."

"Have the Salvatores been around for that long?" Jeremy asked curiously, "Wait, nevermind. You said you were adopted."

"I was adopted by the Salvatore family during the 1860s, when the founding families first settled here. I've had many last names, but my original one was Montague."

"You're French?"

Mallory nodded as she stood up from sitting on his bed, "I was originally a French Princess, actually. The youngest daughter of one of the most feared kings in the thirteenth century. But that's a story for another day," She paused, letting out a sigh.

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