A PAIN SEARED THROUGH MY CHEST as if a heavy weight was pressed against it. A man's voice filled the air, counting from one to five. I couldn't breathe through my nose. Someone or something pinched my nostrils together. Then a hand gently grabbed my mouth and hot air entered as if someone were trying to kiss me. My chest heaved with every breath that entered my lungs. My eyes fluttered opened, then closed.

"Where's Dr. Vieira?" a familiar man's voice called out.

"Jo?" A hand tapped my cheek then pulled my left eyelid open. "Jo. Wake up." He tapped my cheek again.

I opened my eyes and a blanket of haze clouded my vision. I blinked several times, trying to clear it. The ceiling above spun as if I were I riding on a merry-go round.

My abdominal muscles contracted, then an intense pressure gripped my stomach. Vomit threatened, creeping up into the back of my throat. After several contractions, the pain eased, giving way to clear liquid filling my mouth, seeping out, and dripping down my neck.

"Sit her up. Now," a new male voice commanded. His voice was familiar too.

A hand slipped under my back and raised me forward. Then another hand grabbed hold of my wrist and pressed fingers on it.

"Her pulse is weak. We need to get her back to headquarters, but I don't want to move her just yet," the male voice said. "Olivia, get me a bottle of water from the van."

As if a pressure relief valve opened, I grabbed my stomach and heaved again, soaking my jeans. The dizziness slowed, the room righted itself. I drew in a breath and looked around.

Tripp stood to my left, watching Dr. Vieira who was kneeling down, fingers touching my wrist. Webb sat on his heels on my right, holding my back for support.

"Where's Ben?" I asked, looking at Webb.

"He's fine," Webb replied.

"How long was I in the..." I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"We're not sure. But it couldn't have been longer than two hours or else you'd be dead," Dr. Vieira replied.

"What happened?" Webb asked.

"Why don't you ask, Dr. Case? Where is he?" I asked.

"He's on his way to the lock-up at headquarters," Webb said. He glanced at Dr. Vieira. "Can we get her out of here now?"

"Her pulse is stronger. Let's get her into the van. The fresh air may help." Dr. Vieira rose, grabbed the water bottle from Olivia who was now standing next to Tripp and handed it to me. "Here. I want you to finish two bottles of water before you get back to headquarters. There's more in the van."

I grabbed the water bottle, then Tripp and Webb gently eased me upright. The walls around me rushed in and I staggered. Before I could take another step, Tripp picked me up and cradled me in his arms.

I was grateful it was Tripp. Maybe his touch would ease the dizziness. At the very least he would calm me. As he carried me out, I peeked over his shoulder and Webb stood near the ghastly coffin, examining it. What was he looking for?

Olivia walked up to the altar, bent over and picked up a small object. She turned it over several times before handing it to Webb, but I couldn't make out what it was.

"Watch your head," Tripp said as he walked us through the door into the sitting area.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I pressed my cheek on his shoulder.

He stopped walking, turned his head slightly and said, "You shouldn't have run. You could've gotten yourself killed." The muscle in his jaw ticked. "You scared the crap out of us."

Did the hard core Navy SEAL vampire have a heart with emotions? His expression told me he did, but part of me had a hard time believing his sincerity. After all, Dr. Vieira's message last night in the war room was clear. I was essential to the outcome of their mission.

"You mean vampires get scared?" I asked with a hint of a smile.

"I see you're feeling better," he said.

I wasn't, but I couldn't pass up the chance to talk with Tripp. The only time he usually spoke was when he yelled at Ben and me or told me what to do. Engaging in an actual, normal conversation with him was like talking to a rock sometimes.

"Is Sloan okay?" I asked afraid of his answer.

"He lost a lot of blood, but he'll be fine." Tripp resumed carrying me to the van.

"Where's Ben?" I asked. My voice broke up as Tripp climbed down the porch steps.

"He's back at headquarters." Tripp set me down in one of the seats in the back of the van and strapped me in as if I were a toddler.

I sat there waiting for him to get into the van, but he didn't move. He stood sentinel, waiting for the other team members to emerge.

"Tripp?"

He slid me a sideways glance.

"Any news on Sam?" I asked, staring at him, waiting for him to answer.

As if hours passed, he finally said, "I'll let Lt. London answer that."

What did that mean? If they didn't have news on Sam, Tripp would've said no, wouldn't he? He wouldn't have hesitated.

I shuddered. Was it good news or bad news?

I hated walking through those large steel doors again. I hated everything about the Sentinels' Headquarters from the cement structure and the stark white floors to the draconian feel to the place. The only things that had me moving my legs and me step over into the cold reception area was the potential news about Sam and to make sure Ben was okay.

On the drive over, I had kept quiet, thinking through what Dr. Case had mentioned about my estranged father killing his sister. It seemed every corner I turned trouble found me because of my father. I was beginning to rack up quite the enemy list thanks to Commander Steven Mason.

I sifted through a few of the events during the past couple of weeks, trying to understand what Dr. Case's role was in helping the Plutariums. Was he a vampire? Was he the one who started my life on its road to hell? Then it hit me, as if someone splashed ice-cold water in my face. Dr. Case had told the nurse that night to send my blood sample to Patrick. Was he referring to my Uncle Patrick, the great genetic scientist? Did Dr. Case know then that I was the daughter of Steven Mason? Was he the one following me in the black SUV?

Cold air rushed past me and I looked up to see Kate running over and wrapping her arm around me.

"Lord, child, what did you do? You look pale. Let's get you up to Dr. Vieira's facility."

What did I do? She should be asking Dr. Case what he did, not me.

"Is Ben here?" I asked.

"He's in the medical wing." She guided me toward the elevator. "We have a surprise for you." Her eyes were alight with excitement, turning from blue to a light gray.

I was learning that any emotional change in the vampires caused their eye color to change, as if they were mood rings, shining a vibrant color one minute and turning darker the next. Since I carried the vampire gene, I wondered how often mine were shifting.

Dr. Vieira walked in behind us. "Kate, please escort Jo up to my facility. I need to speak to Lt. London."

"We're on our way," Kate said. She entwined her arm through mine.

We stood in front of the elevator waiting for the car to make its way down.

"So, do you want to know what your surprise is?" she asked, eagerness lacing her voice.

"No. I'm not ready for any surprises, unless you're going to tell me Sam is here and he's alive. Otherwise, I'm not sure I could handle anything else."

Her expression turned sullen.

Did I just hurt her feelings? I didn't care. I had been locked in a coffin and left to die by a Plutarium doctor who claimed my father killed his sister, plus I was almost taken by Fernando, another Plutarium vampire, who came close to killing Ben.

We rode the elevator to the fourth floor in silence. My heart banged against my ribs. I had drunk the two bottles of water Dr. Vieira instructed me to, but it didn't quell the dizziness. My body was sluggish, my eyelids were heavy and I longed to lie down and sleep.

The mile long trek to the medical facility grew painful with each step. The white walls and never-ending hallways made it seem as if I were walking through a black and white psychedelic maze.

We reached the double doors to the medical facility and stopped. Now what? The last time I stood outside these doors, Dr. Vieira had to open them with the retinas of his eyes. Kate walked over to the metal panel, pressed a button, waited for the beep, then positioned her eyes over the clear bar at the top of the box. That answered my question.

"You ready?" she asked, apprehension laced in her tone.

"Ready for what?"

She was scaring me.

She extended her delicate hand. "It's okay. You can see Ben," she said.

I had a bad feeling about this. I placed my hand in hers and together we walked down to the second set of double doors that opened into Dr. Vieira's world. I let go of her hand and scurried in looking for Ben, stopping near one of the computer desks.

"Over there." Kate pointed to a windowed room on the right.

I spun around and adrenaline replaced the dizziness. A chill skittered up and down my arms. The site of Ben lying in a hospital bed sent a stabbing pain shooting through my chest.

My gaze fell on his neck and I drew in breath. Bandages covered his throat, wrapping around as if they were preparing him for mummification. Did he get bit by a vampire?

I dodged the maze of desks and lab furniture and ran into his room. Ben's chest rose and fell as the machine pumped oxygen into his lungs.

Webb told me Ben was fine. Anger morphed through me. He wasn't fine.

I stood beside the railing of the bed, reached over and grabbed Ben's hand.

"He's in a light coma," a man's voice cut in, in-between the heart monitor and oxygen machine.

I cringed.

I raised my head. A man with long black hair and forest green eyes sat in the chair in the far right corner.

My mouth fell open as I scanned his features.

God, how he looked exactly like Sam. There was no mistaking that the man in the chair was my estranged father, Commander Steven Mason.

I wanted to go over and punch him, beat him, even kill him for all that he put Sam and me through in sixteen years. How he had left Sam and me to grow up in filthy foster homes with perverted foster dads. How he didn't tell us we carried a gene that would change our lives forever. Not to mention how I'd been beat up, chased, almost kidnapped, locked in a coffin to slowly die and told that I might have to shed my human existence.

Killing him might be too kind.

He stared at me, not saying a word. He had one leg crossed over the other. His hands grasped the edges of the arms on the chair as if he were bracing for the human storm that just blew into the room.

I glared back. His face was unshaven and patches of dried blood or dirt dotted his cheeks. His clothes were ragged, while dark circles punctuated his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

I had always thought that I would run to him and beat him until... But standing in the same room, feet away from him now, my body couldn't move. My feet were glued to the floor.

Was he going to say something?

I swallowed several times, biting my lower lip. I shifted my gaze from the man in the corner to Ben, whose breathing was steady. The monitor indicated his heart was still beating. I inhaled and was about to speak when the door behind me slammed shut. Suddenly, the walls around me closed in and a blanket of claustrophobia covered me. Sweat beaded up on my forehead.

"Jo." His voice, smooth and deep, sounded exactly like Sam's.

My emotions went into overdrive. Tears pooled and one escaped, dripping down my right cheek. I closed my eyes and a few more tumbled down. What was he doing here? I thought the Plutariums had kidnapped him.

I blinked a few times trying not to cry like a bumbling teenager.

"Where's Sam?" I asked, glaring at him through clouded eyes.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"No. You don't have any right to ask me that. You don't know what I've been through. You don't know anything about me. You're a rotten father. You deserve an award for being the worst father in history."

He rose from the chair. Before I could say another word, he was standing in front of me. He smelled like he had just crawled out of a dumpster. He placed a finger under my chin and guided it upward. I kept my eyes down not wanting to look at him.

"You're correct. I don't have the right. At least, not now." He stepped back and grabbed a large yellow envelope off the table near the chair. "But I would like to show you something. Would you come with me so we can talk privately?"

What could he possibly show me? I focused my gaze on Ben. He looked peaceful.

"Ben should be fine. Please." My father held the door open, eyes pleading.

I struggled with my decision whether to listen to him or not. Maybe he did have news about Sam.

I gave Ben one last look and walked past my father out into the lab.

Dr. Vieira referred to this room as his medical facility, but it looked just like our chemistry lab at school. Webb, Kate and Dr. Vieira were standing against the black lab bench on the opposite side of the room, heads down, reading papers that were strewn across the counter. Going over their mission, no doubt, which I prayed was to find Sam.

I waited for my father to show me where we were going. He headed left, making his way into the back corner office, where he paused inside with his hand on the door.

The office floor had gray wall-to-wall carpeting, giving the room a warm and inviting atmosphere. A marked difference to the white tile floors, which decorated every other room I had been in.

"Have a seat." He waved his hand toward the large sectional leather couch that ate up two walls of the office opposite the door.

I scanned the room, admiring Dr. Vieira's diploma from Harvard and several awards from various medical and research organizations. I sat down on the far end near Dr. Vieira's glass desk, hoping that my father would sit on the other end, creating a distance between us.

He took the middle ground and sat in the corner section, the yellow envelope resting on his lap. He raked his hands through his oily hair then looked at me. His eyes were no longer the deep, forest green I witnessed in the Ben's room. They had changed to a lighter green almost on the verge of shifting to black. Something is wrong.

He masked his worried look with a weak smile. "I understand that Webb has explained to you a small amount of our family history and genetics."

"I thought you were kidnapped by the Plutariums," I said.

"The Plutariums never kidnapped me."

I narrowed my eyes. Where was he all this time? Did Webb know the Plutariums never had my father in custody? Then it clicked. Webb probably didn't tell me since it was information on a classified, need to know basis, which was usually how Webb answered my questions.

My blood boiled. What else had Webb not told me?

"I don't understand," I said, rage flooding through me.

"It's not important," he said as his lips tightened.

"Yes, it is. You were supposed to be with Sam." My cheeks burned and I was ready to lash out at him.

"Very well then." He let out a deep breath, irritation leaking out as if I were keeping him from some other pressing matter. He rubbed his hands over his face. "There's so much to tell you and we don't have time."

He appears out of nowhere, asks for my forgiveness, wants to talk and now he doesn't have time. Once again, I wanted to kill him.

As if he could sense my anger, he said, "When I got word you were in the hospital, I rushed over there to see you. I had been looking for you and Sam for years. And when I found out where you were, I had to-" He stood up and walked over to Dr. Vieira's desk, gripping the envelope as if he had top-secret information in it.

Under the microscope of my glare he ran his free hand through his beard.

"I knew it was a risk, showing up at the hospital. But I had to make sure...I thought you were dead. Then the Plutariums got in the way. They got to you before I could because of Dr. Case. So I called in a favor from a friend of mine. After following you for a week, the situation got a little out of control and we lost a soldier in a fight. After that I wasn't sure what the Plutariums' next move would be. I knew they were after me, but now with you and Sam in the picture, the game changed. I had to do everything I could to lure them away from you. So I headed out of the city with a group of Plutariums following me. At first, they thought both of you were with me. Then last Monday something changed." He sat down in the desk chair.

I was immobilized as he told his story. While I understood how Dr. Case fit into the jigsaw puzzle, and I knew about Patrick needing my father's blood, I didn't understand why it took me landing in a hospital for my father to find me. Not to mention wondering who his friend was?

"Monday was our first day back at school from spring vacation. That's when Sam disappeared," I said.

"I realize that now," he whispered.

"So, was it you in the black SUV?"

He nodded.

"And were you standing in the garage when-"

"Yes."

I cocked my head. "Is Neil Foster the friend, the guy that died?"

"I can't answer that," he said.

He didn't have to. Neil was the one helping us that night. It had to be the friend he referred to, but was he dead? I still wasn't sure and if Neil was part of the Plutariums, then why was he helping the Sentinels?

"Webb told me that Patrick needed Sam's DNA. Is that true? Is he using Sam for his lab tests?" I asked.

"While Patrick does need my blood, his success hinges on a lot of things. I believe Webb explained it to you. But Sam was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Patrick found the Holy Grail in Sam. He's a smart individual and he's using Sam to study our family genetics. And if I know my brother, he will extract and study as much data as he can, even if it means killing Sam." He rose from the chair and joined me on the couch, the yellow envelope still clutched in his hand.

I hated the way he articulated those last words as if it rolled off his tongue with ease.

I let out a deep breath. "But how did the Plutariums get into school to kidnap Sam?"

"I don't know. We thought we had time to get in there on Monday morning, take both of you out and bring you back here. But Webb and his team were too late. When I found out that Sam was missing, I came back to help." He slid a finger through the underside of the envelope flap. "I need to show you something. And...and...I need you to stay calm." He slipped his hand into the envelope. "Will you try and stay calm?"

Tension snaked through me as he spoke. What the heck was in that envelope? Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

He pulled out an eight by ten inch picture and stared at it. He lifted his gaze and handed it to me. I reached over and took hold of it, but my father held on to it for a second more as if he were frightened that I might die from looking at it.

I pulled the picture toward me and dropped my gaze. My pulse quickened, thudding in my ears like a drummer beating a deep pitched drum.

This can't be. It can't be Sam. No! No! No!

I flung the picture across the room and started crying, the tears flowing furiously down my face.

"I hate you," I cried out between sobs.

My father had one hand rubbing my back while the other was trying to wipe away my tears.

"Get away from me! This is all your fault. You're responsible for every horrible thing that has happened to us. Now Sam is lying dead on a bench locked up in a glass room with tubes in him." I jerked my arm away. I wanted to stand up, but my body trembled and I couldn't control my crying.

"Jo, please calm down."

"Calm down! Sam is the only family I've ever known, the only one that has taken care of me and protected me from bullies at school, foster parents and every other danger thrown at me. If it wasn't for Sam I'd be dead." My tears intensified and I shuddered violently. "You're a bastard. Why? Why did you leave us?"

"I want to explain. But not now. You're in no emotional state to listen. Plus, we'll have time to talk later."

He tried to pull me toward him, but I moved back.

"There won't be a later. I hate you," I spat.

What was I going to do without my brother? Why did I wait so long to make a decision? I was a terrible sister. I stood up, knees wobbling.

"Wait. We're not done talking." My father grabbed my wrist.

"We have nothing left to talk about. My brother is dead because of you. You're not my father." I glared daggers at him, hiccupping from all the crying.

"I didn't show you that picture as a sign that Sam is dead. I've been trying to tell you that he's not dead-but we don't have much time. Sam is at a point now that the only way to bring him back is for you to save him."

I swallowed air and collapsed onto the couch.

"Please listen," my father said as he wiped my tears with a stinky cloth he pulled out of his pants.

"How do you know he's not dead?"

"It's not important how I know. What's important is that we discuss how we're going to bring Sam home."

Here we go. It's all about the mission. My father the vampire SEAL-mission first, then family.

"That's simple. You're here now. And Webb said that Sam needs to drink your blood."

"Yes, that would be true if he wasn't on his deathbed. I'm afraid too much of his blood has been lost. Besides, it's not that simple."

"Yes, it is. You're his father. Webb said that we needed to drink your blood to change. So rescue Sam and use your blood."

He rose from the couch, walked over to the picture, which rested against the wall, bent over and picked it up. "Look closely at this photo." My dad placed it on my lap.

I turned my head. I didn't want to see Sam like that. It shattered my heart into a million pieces.

"Jo. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Look at the photo. I know I haven't been around to help you through life and I'm not going to give you excuses. Please believe me when I say I don't want you or Sam to live the life of a vampire. But sometimes, life doesn't give us choices. Sometimes we have to do things we don't like to save our family." His voice was deep and commanding.

"Webb said I had choices, that I could make my own choice." My voice cracked.

"I know what Webb told you. In case you're forgetting, he also told you that Sam would need your vampire blood to survive. Don't lie to me. I know you're upset, but don't put your brother in harm's way just to get out of this. We don't have time for your teenage antics." My father's tone shifted to a low growl.

I dropped my head. I wasn't trying to lie to him. I was incensed because he had left us all those years ago and felt betrayed that he waited until now to show up when my brother was on his deathbed.

"Okay, so what if he did?"

His eyes suddenly changed from green to black with a rim of silver pooling the edges. He took in a deep breath, raked his hands through his shoulder-length hair and cleared his throat.

"Do you think that Webb wanted to be a vampire?"

I raised my head as the cushion dipped beside me.

"Webb didn't have a choice," he said, his tone soft. "He was put in a similar situation. The only reason he is who he is today was to save his twin sister Kate. Their father couldn't save her."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "They're twins?"

I knew they resembled each other- they had the same color eyes and hair-but I hadn't been around them for too long to even notice. Besides, I had my own hell to deal with.

"Years ago, when the mafia became a popular organization here in the United States, Webb's father was a mafia boss, head of one of the most powerful families in Boston. What the world-including other mafia families-didn't know was that Mr. and Mrs. London were vampires. Webb and Kate were still human at the time, but they carried the vampire gene. As the mafia was known for, Mr. London had several illegal activities going on within his organization. When crime and smuggling got out of control, law enforcement stepped in to watch all the mafia families very closely." My dad shifted his position on the couch, taking the picture from me.

My crying had stopped, but my body still trembled. I thought of Tripp and his calming abilities and wished he were in here holding me. I had an inkling that this story wasn't going to end well-at least not for me.

My dad scanned the picture of Sam then cleared his throat. "Kate and Webb at that time were twenty years old. They both had decided humanity was more important that immortality. They struggled with their decision for years. But things went horribly wrong for them. Not long after they made their decision to stay human, their father hired a lieutenant to take charge of one his smuggling rings. The young man, only a few years older than the twins, fell in love with Kate. As their relationship grew, the young man started to notice odd things about the family. Even though Kate was human, her senses were heightened and she had to live with some of the vampire qualities that came with carrying the gene. The young man started to notice. He got suspicious of the family and started taking pictures and jotting down observations in a notebook. But Mr. London also grew suspicious of the young man and had him followed one day. Turned out the young man who was in love with Kate was also working undercover for law enforcement. Mr. London went to confront the man, but instead found his daughter lying in a pool of her own blood. She had been stabbed several times."

I covered my mouth with my left hand.

"Mr. London knew the only way to save her was for her to drink his blood. Since she was unconscious, he forced his blood into her. They waited hours to see if she would change, but nothing happened. They tried another pint, but still nothing. Webb was so distraught, he needed to do something. He wanted to save his sister more than anything, even if it meant his life for hers. So he changed; he became a vampire. He didn't know if it would work, but he had to try. Within twenty-four hours Webb was able to feed Kate his blood, and Kate woke up hours later as a vampire."

I rubbed my eyes. "I don't understand. How did Webb know to do that? And what was different about his blood instead of his father's?"

"Webb didn't know. He just did it. He was desperate to save his sister."

Unlike me who is struggling to save her brother.

He let out a long sigh. "After that incident, the family went into hiding. They left the country and moved to Mrs. London's family estate in Ireland. It was there that they did a lot of research, paid doctors to study their genetic make-up. The family started documenting the research in journals and books to help other vampire families in case this ever happened to them. What they found was once the vampire-human patient, those who carry the gene, loses over forty percent of their body's blood, they've passed the point of no return-in essence, death. The only person who could save them or change them into a vampire, however you want to look at it, is a family member who had all the right genetics. Their DNA matched up perfectly."

I thought about the book I had in my hand earlier on Vampire Genetics. I should've brought it with me.

"You believe that Sam and I have the right genetic make-up?" I asked.

"You're fraternal twins, so, yes, there is a chance. I know it's a risk. Our situation may not be the same. It will depend on how well your genetic make-up matches with Sam's, but Dr. Vieira has been working around the clock to find out. He has your blood sample as well as Sam's."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "How did he get a sample of Sam's blood?"

"Not for discussion. We've wasted too much time already."

"Wait, I still don't get it. How come I can drink your blood and change, but Sam can't?

"Dr. Vieira can explain it better than me, but Sam is going to need a specific enzyme and an enormous intake of iron, which helps to make the hemoglobin necessary for carrying the oxygen from the lungs to the body tissue. New vampires need a large amount of iron. More importantly, as Sam's twin you should carry the specific enzyme needed to infuse his cells and bone marrow. He's lost too much of both. Since I'm too old, my body doesn't produce a high amount anymore. You're healthy and require little to make the change. My blood will only help him through you. Look, Jo, there are a lot of medical things happening here. There are classes and books dedicated to this. Patrick is very well aware of all this, which is why he tried to poison you, so you can't save your brother. Revenge is what he's striving for here." He paused and raked his gaze over my face. "If he's successful, it may help his bigger goal to build an army for the Plutariums."

I blew out all the air in my lungs. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Maybe I was still in the coffin, dreaming or hallucinating.

"I'm not going to force you into a specific choice, but you need to decide immediately. You've had plenty of time...too much time. As the days progress, Sam loses more blood and marrow. His kidneys are shutting down and-"

"Wait, how do you know this? You know where he is?"

He nodded. "I'm going to leave you alone for a few minutes. I need to make sure Dr. Vieira has completed all the blood work and tests and everything matches." He walked to the door and paused. "Jo, I'm sorry. I really didn't want to meet you under these circumstances and I certainly didn't want your choices to be pressured like this." He pulled it open and walked out.

Mary, Mother of God. My mind flipped in several directions from all the medical jargon. Questions piled up one on top of the other. However, two took center stage. How did my father know where Sam was? How did he get that picture and his blood?

I picked up the picture of Sam from the cushion and studied his lifeless body, tears forming again as I prayed he wasn't in a lot of pain. I rubbed my hand over it and thoughts surfaced of us playing in the schoolyard. We were young and he had been teaching me how to play baseball. He'd throw the ball to me and I'd swing, missing it. He'd throw it again, and again I would swing and miss. We did this for hours until I had finally hit it, the ball soaring into the outfield. He had been so excited and proud of me, which at this moment, I imagined he wouldn't be. What kind of sister was I? He'd always protected me, he'd always been there for me and I knew without any doubt he would die for me. Why couldn't I make the damn decision to save him?

I was rubbing my eyes when a knock sounded and Kate walked in.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No. I hate my life. I keep hoping that I'm in a dream-like coma and at any minute I'm going to snap out of it." I dropped my head in my hands.

"Sweetie, I can't say I know what you're going through because I don't. I am extremely glad that Webb did what he did for me, even if we both didn't want this life. Nevertheless, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here right now. While eternity sounds depressing, I am thankful that I get to spend it with him." She rubbed her hand up and down my back.

"I'm an awful sister," I said as the tears flowed down my cheeks.

She gently touched my chin. "Jo, look at me."

I lifted my head and tilted it towards her.

"I know it can't be an easy decision for you, but I'll leave you with one last thought. Put yourself in Sam's shoes. What if the roles were reversed? Would he do whatever it took to save you? Would you want him to? You know Sam better than anyone. Don't let this vampire life scare you. Make your decision based on what's best for you and Sam. If death is best for him, then so be it. If living with your brother and doing something to change this world for the better is best, then maybe immortality is the path you take." She rose and walked to the door. "We're here for you. All of us." She flicked her hand in the direction of the lab. "You're not alone."

The door clicked shut.

After she had left, I sifted through everything my father had explained and some of the things that Kate had told me. While her words of wisdom were comforting, I wasn't at ease with the decision I had to make.

I sat alone thinking, rationalizing and trying to put myself in Sam's position. The weight of the world rested heavily on me. I was only a teenager and the vampires were asking me to make a god-like decision. It wasn't fair. I should be in school, doing homework, going to school dances and hanging out with friends. Instead, I was sitting in a secret compound, in an alternate world, making life-changing decisions for Sam and me.

Without another thought, I stood up, wiped my eyes, took in a deep breath and walked to the door.

God help me for what I was about to do.

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