From Eden.

The tragedy of September eleventh, two-thousand and one shook us all. People jumping from burning buildings to their death, not knowing that there wasn’t anybody there to catch them. They left behind families. Husbands, wives, children, mothers, fathers. I covered my mouth with my hand at the sight of one man crashing against the cement, his blood splattering all over the ground as innocent bystanders rushed to get away. Looking around Brian’s living room, I couldn’t help but notice how calm the guys looked. Not one emotion crossed their faces. My eyes averted back to the TV screen, watching in horror as the lives were taken by innocent people who hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve such a fate on this day.

“Why are they in New York?” Johnny asked, finally breaking the silence that had washed over the living room. I looked, and saw that his eyes held no expression as he looked towards Matt, who was sprawled out on the couch like he watching Saturday morning cartoons. At that moment, they all sicked me. How could they not care about these people dying before they very own eyes? Were they that cold-hearted?

Matt just shrugged, his eyes never leaving the TV as we all watched the horror happening in New York, while we were here in the peaceful Huntington Beach. “Beats me,” he muttered. He turned and looked at Zacky, who was beside me on the couch, his fingers interlaced with mine. “I thought you said they were coming here?”

Zacky shrugged, gripping my hand tighter. He seemed to be the only one who gave a shit about the horror that was happening thousand of miles away. “Maybe she moved there.” He mumbled.

I shot Zacky a look, my eyebrows raised. What was he talking about? Who was Matt talking about? Why did Johnny seem so surprised about the people who were responsible for these killings? The confusion was plastered across my face, and Zacky could see it. I knew Zacky would tell me later, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to know the truth, now. Plus, looking at the blood splattering all over the concrete sidewalks in New York was beginning to make me nauseous. I grabbed Zacky’s arm, pulling him off the couch. The guys gave me strange looks, except Jimmy’s. He was smirking, his brow was raised, and I rolled my eyes in response.

I practically dragged Zacky down the hallway, and all but shoved him into our room, shutting, and locking the door so we could have some privacy. I didn’t want what happened last time we were alone in our room happening again.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I was surprised at how uncaring my voice was. I sounded like Kaelah talking to Vivienne. For a moment, I was worried about my Demon side rearing it’s ugly little head.

Zacky sighed and sat down on the bed, he ran a hand through his hair and looked at me with those gorgeous eyes I loved so much. “Promise you won’t freak out?” He asked. His voice was so smooth and perfect, it gave me goosebumps, but I managed to give him a nod. “Those people, who stole the planes,” he paused and sighed again, “they weren’t just regular people.” I gave Zacky a confused look, but he ignored it. “They were Lycans.” My eyes widened in shock. “They thought you were there. They were trying to kill you.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. Zacky had to be lying. He was saying such an awful thing so I could act like the guys in the living room. Emotionless, to this awful tragedy that had struck the nation. There was no way I was responsible for the death of thousands of people I had never met before. Did they know that Zacky had imprinted on me?

“They thought that maybe you were in New York,” Zacky continued, “I guess they overheard that you always wanted to go there and decided to take matters into their own hands.” he mumbled. He took my hands into his, the feel of his thumbs brushing against my hands did nothing to soothe me this time.

I now knew why the guys didn’t care about all of the people dying in New York. They were werewolves and this was something their brothers had done in the name of justice. The feeling of guilt washed over me. I had a sudden thought that maybe I should rid the world of myself. A life without The Hybrid would be so much better for everyone that I cared about. Maybe then, the world would be at peace and innocent people didn’t have to die every day in my name. Could it be that almost every epidemic that involved thousands of people dying were all in the hunt for me? Were the Lycans and Undead that cruel?

“You remember the plague epidemic in Surat?” Zacky asked. He looked so serious, it scared me. . I nodded, and Zacky gave me a look that said it all, but he decided to speak anyway. “Your family was there, vacationing. They thought they could kill you with that, but you were too strong.”

I did remember that. Going back to Minnesota from India, and being sick as a dog. Jacob had also gotten sick, so it had been up to Christina to take care of us both, along with Laura and Henry. Christina had lied and told me I just had the flu. Eventually, I got better, and obviously, had survived. It had to have been the part of me that is Angel that kept me from dying.

It was all too much for me. My head was beginning to swim with thoughts.

“Hey, Ellie, someone’s here for you,” Matt said. I turned to see his hand on the doorknob, he was leaning against the now open door. I gave him a confused look. “He’s all dressed up--”
“He looks like he just walked out of a fucking circus!” I couldn’t help but giggle at Jimmy’s interruption. At least now I had a mental image of what this person looked like.
“Anyways, he’s outside waiting for you.” Matt said, rolling his eyes at Jimmy’s outburst, leaving the door open as he walked away and back into the living room where the rest of the guys were.

I turned to Zacky, who had a suspicious look on his face. “Might as well go see who it is?” I suggested. Zacky nodded and followed me out of our room. He took a seat beside Johnny on the couch in the living room, leaving me to go see this mystery man waiting for me on the other side of that door.
I carefully opened the front door to see a man standing there. His facial features made me audibly gasp, and I immediately regretted it. Half of his face was horribly burnt. His right eye drooped and sagged. He had no right ear. He was dressed in what looked like an expensive black suit. Every button was buttoned, and it looked like this man had his jacket ironed every day to get out even the tiniest of wrinkles. I couldn’t help but stare his burned face. He looked like he had been dead for years. His skin was grey, and was sunken into his skull, making his cheek bones prominent. His beady black eyes stared back into mine. They were emotionless. He stared at me as if he knew my secret, and he knew who I was. His pale, lanky body gave off this unknown power, almost as if he could easily break my neck in half in a second just because he was bored at the time and had nothing better to do.

“Delilah Salathiel?” I was speechless at his voice. It was deep and rich like chocolate Only, that wasn’t my last name. He had to have the wrong address or something.

The man saw the confusion across my face and smiled slightly. “You’ll want to take this.” He said, pulling a white envelope from his jacket and held it out to me. I didn’t want to take it, but it was like something took over my body and made me reach out to take the envelope from the man. I looked at him, he was still smirking slightly and his eyes told me something along the lines of ‘I know exactly who you are’.

I looked down at the envelope, it was sealed in a crimson wax with an emblem stamped onto it. The emblem looked like some sort of family crest, for it was in a ‘S’ shape, with all sorts of extensions going outward in the places they were necessary, enveloping the S as it stood out proudly. “That is yours.” The dark chocolate voice said to me, although I was not looking up at his face.

“Thank you.” A voice that was not my own escaped my lips. I examined the envelope, there was only my name, followed by Salathiel. It was correctly addressed to mine and Brian’s house. There was no return address, just simply the same crest with the wax seal that held whatever was inside this envelope.

“Everything you need to know is inside of that envelope.” The man said, not caring that I wasn’t looking up at him. I was still studying the paper in the my hand, trying to figure out some way to open it without damaging the fragile parchment. “The host expects your presence. It would be in your best interest to not be late.” His voice turned harsh, as if someone had commented on the burned half of his face with a mean remark. “Farewell, young Delilah.”

When I looked up, he was gone.

I looked around a for a moment, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was like the man had never been here in the first place. I was still standing at the front door, gripping the envelope tightly. I slowly closed the door with caution, hoping that the man didn’t pop up again and for me to slam the door right into his face. The last thing I wanted to do was be rude to a man with a burned face.

I looked at the boys sitting on the couch. They were all engrossed into the television, watching the news coverage of the tragedy happening in New York. I figured it would be okay to open the envelope here. The seal easily broke off from the paper, leaving a small bit of dried crimson wax in the circle outline. I opened the flap to reveal an even whiter piece of paper inside. The paper had been creased in half, and on the outside the words were written in perfect cursive.

To
Miss Delilah Faye Salathiel

A feeling of fear and concern washed over me. How did this person know my middle name, and why were they writing that Salathiel was my last name too? Did this person, and the man who gave me the envelope, know something about me that I didn’t? There was still so much about myself I had yet to learn, but this piece of paper I held in my hands made me afraid to open it. But, I did. I flipped open the crease and ran my fingers over the same perfect cursive writing. The words inside were like the same on the outside, and I could only guess that someone had to have written this all by hand. It was too perfect, too precise to be typed out on a computer.

You Are Cordially Invited To
Lord and Lady Qidar’s Annual Autumn Ball
30, October, 2001

Guests are required to dress formally to accommodate the theme. This year’s theme is late 1800’s, Victorian era.

Guests are also required to follow the following dress codes:
Clothing may be any colour except for purple and gold
No vulgar clothing
Masks are required. No exceptions

There will be the annual feast before the party begins, and you may come as you like. Wine will also be shared equally for all of our guests, with the occasional water for those beginning to have a taste of the newest kind of our traditional drink.

If you have received the letter by hand from one of our guardsmen, congratulations, you have been chosen as one of the very few VIP members to the ball. VIP members are required to attend, and must make their presence known throughout the night.

Guests are allowed to bring another with them, but only one person per guest.

Warmest regards.

This letter made no sense. I racked my brain, trying to figure out who those Lord and Lady were. Why couldn’t the guests wear the colors purple and gold? Who were these people? Who had a party on the night before Halloween? This was all too weird, but I hoped that I could bring Zacky along as my one-plus. My eyes scanned the last paragraph as my eyes widened, my mouth opened up in a scream, but I couldn’t make a sound. It felt like my heart stopped beating.

Delilah, my darling, I look forward to meeting you. I have heard many great things about you. I’ve heard you have a free spirit, just like your mother. It will be a great pleasure of mine, meeting you for the first time. My Lady and I have been waiting this moment for a very long time, but she has been more patient than I. I may be what I am, but I am still your father. And a young lady like yourself, who still has so much more learning and growing to do, we are very protective of our daughters.