The house was cold, vacant and depressing. I wanted to run to my room, collapse onto my bed and sleep until this nightmare was over. Salem followed me inside, although uninvited, admiring his surroundings as we passed through the kitchen and into the living room. It was incredibly dull and shabby in contrast to his house. I groaned when I smelled the sour milk that had spilled across the dining room floor the prior morning. I quickly gathered the mop and cleaned it up, spraying the area with cleaner to eliminate the wretched smell.

“You never did explain to me how you afford to live in that mansion of yours,” I commented as I watched him look at my place.

“It is hardly a mansion, and technically, I did,” he said as he looked at the TV set. “I told you I can make things materialize at will.”

“So you’re telling me you created a whole house?” I said with sarcasm.

He laughed lightly. “No, of course I didn’t. The house was abandoned when I arrived here, barely more than a rotting hull. The furniture and touch-ups, however…”

“How do you do it?”

He was still fascinated by the TV. I grabbed the remote off of the boring, scratched up brown coffee table.

“Magic.” He grinned up at me.

I glared. “I’m serious, tell me how?”

“I think of something, and it appears. It is really simple.”

“Anything?”

“No. I can materialize a wide variety of objects. The smaller they are, the easier it is for me. I definitely could never manage anything as large as a house. And it's not something I am in constant control of.”

“What do you mean?”

“I only discovered the ability a few years ago, and sometimes it works...other times, not so much.” He laughed somewhat to himself. “Initially, things sort of backfired. For example, if I were to imagine a lamp...it would come out disfigured and broken. I eventually figured it out, though.”

“And what happened when you first figured out you could do this…magic?”

“Well, I was...startled, as anyone would be.” He appeared to be deep in thought. “But considering who and what I am, it didn't affect me as much as it may would others, I suppose.”

I hit the power button on the TV remote and a news report spread across the 32' screen. Salem jumped back.

“Please tell me you’ve at least seen a TV before.”

“I'm 126 years-old Alexis, of course I have seen a television.” He shook his head at me. “I just wasn't expecting it to come on.”

I wasn't paying attention at this point; I was watching the TV intently. The slick-haired man behind the screen was talking about an incident in Denver, Colorado. My heart was beating fast as I stared. I hardly noticed Salem walk up beside me.

“What is it?” he asked, watching the screen.

I tuned out his voice and heard only the rough voice of the news reporter.

“Earlier today at the Denver Zoo, a black bear escaped its holding pens while a zookeeper was placing food in its enclosure,” he spoke quickly, “the woman was found brutally attacked within the bear's exhibit. We are still unsure how the bear escaped.”

My heart sunk as a picture of a woman was pulled up on the screen—my mom. “No!” I screamed.

Salem's voice reached my ears again. “Alexis...” It was merely a gentle whisper, right behind my ear.

“No! Don't you dare to speak to me or touch me!” I shouted, pushing him away. “Mark did this! I know it!”

He looked taken aback by my assumption. “You think Mark did this?” He frowned. “We aren't like that, Alexis. There is no evidence that he had any involvement. The reporter clearly said that it was a bear attack.”

“That doesn't make him innocent! It could all be some sort of cover up!”

“You are just upset because he took her from you.”

“That has nothing to do with it!” Or did it? It was more Paul's fault than Mark’s wasn't it? I fell back on the sofa. “Did it say...did it say if she was still alive?”

“I didn't hear anything about her dying.” He sat beside me on the faux leather couch. “I assure you; it has nothing to do with Mark.”

“I won't believe it until I hear it from mom–Janet, I mean.” Not calling her mom was going to take a while to get used to.

“Why don't you call her?” he suggested.

“Right.” I nodded, relaxing just a little as I stood up and got the cordless phone from the kitchen. So much for crude accusations the first time I called her after she left. I dialed her cell phone number. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

“Hello?” A deep male voice answered.

“Is Janet there?” I said.

“She can’t come to the phone right now. Who is this?”

“This is her daughter,” I said, ignoring the fact that I wasn't really her daughter anymore…or never was, I supposed. “Please, just put her on the phone.”

“She's a little out of it right now, but I'll see if she is able.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Silence followed, and then muffled voices in the background.

“Alexis?” Her voice was different, scared, weak. “I was about to have Mark call you.”

“How are you?” I felt relieved to hear her voice, but something about the way she spoke made me uneasy.

“I have been better.” I heard her laugh, which was cut through with a hoarse cough and groan. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Thanks, Mom...” I muttered. “Tell me what happened.”

I heard the muffled voice of Mark in the background, but I couldn't decipher what he was saying. “I was feeding the brown bears, when one of them must have gotten loose-”

I broke her off suddenly. “The person on the news said black bears.”

“Right...” she trailed off. “Black bears. My mind is a bit hazy right now.”

“Did Mark do something to you?” I blurted out anxiously.

“Of course not!” Her voice sounded unconvincing, almost as anxious as my own. “He's right here with me in the hospital, making sure I'm taken care of.”

“How badly were you hurt, are you going to be okay?”

“It's not as bad as the TV might make it sound. It's just a few scratches really.”

“The news reporter said you were brutally injured.”

“The TV was over-exaggerating, like they always do. You know that.” I heard another bout of coughing, then Janet's voice was replaced by Mark’s voice again.

“Janet needs her rest. I'll have her call you back when she is feeling better.”

He hung up. I crumbled onto the sofa, bawling my eyes out in frustration.

“What did she say?” Salem asked tenderly as he sat beside me.

I filled him in on the entire conversation, including the errors in her story. It must have been difficult to comprehend through my sobs.

“Perhaps she is just hazy like she said...” he said with the faintest hint of doubt in his voice.

“You don't believe it any more than I do, do you?” I said, sitting up and looking into his eyes.

He glanced down, strands of black falling across his face. “I believe that Mark was in no way responsible for this.”

“I need to go to her,” I said suddenly, angrily. Was no one on my side today?

“No, you don't. Everything will be fine, trust me.”

“Trust you?! I don’t even know you!”

“Alexis, you need to calm down. Relax.”

“Calm down?! First, my mom left me, then I find out all this unbelievable crap about Paul and vampires, and now my mom is lying in some hospital bed with some monster supposedly watching over her!”

“Even if it were true about Mark, you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“I could help her!”

“No, you couldn’t. And besides…you are too important to risk, regardless my insistence on Mark’s goodness.”

“Important? You barely even know me, Salem!”

“As far as you know,” he whispered.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I can't explain it right now.” He sighed. “Your friends are expecting you to be bright and cheerful, as they are going to arrive at any moment.”

“What?”

“It's your birthday, remember?” He attempted a grin. “They're coming over to celebrate.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “That blonde-haired girl might have mentioned it.”

“Of course she did...” I grumbled. “Is this the real reason you wanted me to come home so badly?”

“That might have played some part in it, yes.”