August's shirt was still hanging half off his body as he ran down the stairs. His feet thundered on the steps, his hair messy and his eyes blurry from sleep. He'd not been asleep long, minutes maybe. He hadn't tested the curtains, and it hadn't seemed like the best time to check the clock, not with the racket from downstairs.

The screaming went on and on, a painful and hollowing wail he had not heard the like of in a long time. August rebounded off the wall and jumped down the last half-flight of stairs, skidding on the stone flooring of the hallway.

The door was open wide, letting in the light of the pre-dawn. Over the horizon, a pink sky was rising.

A group had gathered around the open door, and August shoved them out of the way, cursing loudly in a way only he could. Obscenities not heard for a few decades streamed over his lips as he shouldered the younger vampires aside. The back row needed shoving as they craned their necks to see what all the noise was about. The moment they heard him, however, heard his voice and felt his shoving hands, they parted, hurrying back with shocked pale faces.

Even William, stood in the doorway at the front of the group, had the face of someone who had seen a ghost. His eyes widened as he turned to August, and he braced his ham-like hands against August's shoulders, holding him back.

"What?" August demanded. "What is this racket all—"

Heather kept on screaming. Now he was closer, and able to see her face, he realised that the scream was not one of fear.

The wail that passed the girl's lips, vibrating on every molecule of the air, was deep and unquenchable pain. It was the bottomless cry of grief. Hollow and filled up with dread, August gritted his teeth.

He was tumbling down a bottomless pit, the screams piercing a hole through his heart. No, that wasn't right, the hole was already there. It was new, but constant. His heart had not been whole to begin with, and it had always been whole, waiting. He felt the absence like half his heart had been ripped away from him. It was a new and paralysing pain, and it was as old and familiar as his own skin.

He gently slid William's hands from his shoulders and stepped past him. His sire brother made no real attempt to stop him, his grip malleable and uncertain. He stood aside obediently, his silence as oppressive as Heather's screaming.

August looked down between them.

Blank colourless eyes stared back.

She lay at the top of the stairs, her arm limp down the steps. A hundred crescent moons had been carved across her flesh, from wrists to shoulders, each one the perfect size of a bite. Between the open, bloodless moons, burns in the shape of flaming suns had been branded into her skin, dozens of them, disappearing under the shirt that did not suit her.

Her hair was as dark and beautiful as it had been the last time he saw her. The rest of her was colourless, and felt far away.

He'd not even known she was in trouble. How could he not have known? His own sired, the first woman he had sired in a century, and he'd not known.

August stood over Paige's body left displayed on his doorstep.

"What's going on?"

The air around him had solidified until nothing else mattered. Heather's weeping didn't even reach him as he stared at Paige. And yet, he heard him. He heard Thomas' voice through the foggy dense silence. He didn't look back.

"William, don't let him see this," he whispered.

William was gone from his side, pushing through the group that had gathered. His footsteps thundered, far heavier than footsteps had any right to be, and he heard the bustle of Thomas being ushered back upstairs.

Two others came out, stepping carefully around Paige's body and collecting Heather from the foot of the steps. They whispered quiet platitudes in her ears, guiding her past his sired and back into the house. It was all a murmur. It was all meaningless. August stepped aside to let them past.

He took a seat on the steps beside Paige and pulled her up into his lap. He cradled her head, pushing the hair from her face and stroking it through with his fingers. A piece of paper rustled as he pulled her close, just a last feeling of the warmth he'd not quite realised she had brought into his life.

Sliding the note from a pocket over her breast, August blinked until the blearing of tears cleared. He cleared his throat as he read.

You took my daughter, so I took yours.

He stared at the note for a long time, holding Paige's body against him. He knew he would have to move, the sun was coming, and yet he couldn't think to move her until a hand laid on his shoulder.

"Thomas won't stay put," William said. "I've had to put two guys up there to block his door. And Spencer... He knows something's wrong, August. He was asking for her."

August didn't answer him, but for holding up the note. William bent over, reading aloud. But as his gaze went to the paper, he noticed something else. With the rising dawn, light glowed through the paper, illuminating more writing. August brought the small succinct note down in front of him and turned it over.

I made sure she enjoyed it.

Crumpling the note in his fist, August sniffed and sat up straight.

"Tell Thomas what has happened, but keep him upstairs," he said. "Clear the rest of the gawkers out of here, and tell Spencer I will be there in a minute. I need to make a call."

Out of the corner of his peripheral vision, he saw William nod.

"And you?"

"Close the door behind you," was all he said.

The ball of paper bounced down the steps and was carried off down the road by the breeze. The door clicked shut and he could hear William ordering people away, threatening to crack skulls if he found them hovering. August hunched over Paige, choking empty sobs that wracked through his entire body until even the dead trembled with them. He stared at her eyes, filled with his falling tears. They were bright with colour for one gleaming moment before the tears slipped away and they were faded and grey once more.

August sniffed and huffed a couple of breaths. He gritted his teeth and stared at the horizon. He lay his daughter's body gently back down on the steps and got to his feet.

Drawing out his phone from his pocket, he dialled Kaleb Leary's number.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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.........

........ Yeah, so, I didn't actually intend for this to happen. I mean, I did! I knew I had to kill one of the vampires and I had this scene in my head of them being found on the doorstep, but I never intended for it to be Paige. I loved Paige. I still love Paige, but in the end, it had to be her. It had to be someone important instead of a nameless, faceless dead vampire. A nameless death wouldn't have been the catalyst for what is to come, and I promise... there is a lot to come.

Anyone else want to squish August? He's not usually one for squishy hugs, but I think right now, they might be useful... 

I actually blame my friend, Sophie. We were together when I was bullet pointing out this chapter for some writing sprints, and I suddenly had the realisation that it should be Paige. Sophie approved of this. It's her fault! Blame her, not me!

Hope you liked the chapter. Remember to vote and comment, let me know what you think.

Until next week...

Chele