Chapter III

A New Path

"W hy don't we let him sleep?" a voice said. "Dad says he's started sleeping more than us."

Jeremiah's eyes fluttered from the whispers coming from his doorframe. He hadn't meant to doze off, but —like the whispers presumed— he'd started nodding off a bit more. He wasn't necessarily exhausted either or desired sleep, but now he was awake and when he glanced toward the doorway, Lysander and Gabriel looked as though they'd been caught red-handed.

"Oh," Gabriel winced, rubbing a hand behind his hair; it was a bit wavy and to his shoulders, and he and Lysander were wearing matching black and blue pajamas already even though there certainly were no plans on sleeping through the night. Sleeping was hardly something any of the younger dhampir brothers did.

"Sorry," Lysander apologized, "We didn't mean to wake you. "

"It's fine," Jeremiah sat up and rubbed his eyes.

He'd fallen asleep in an armchair across from his bed, a usual place if not his untouched sheets. It wasn't the same one from years prior, but the idea of sleeping alone instead of being accompanied by a warmth that'd once joined him on the occasions he had slept…

Jeremiah pushed himself to stand, "What did you want?"

"Father stepped out for a meeting," Gabriel informed.

"I see," Jeremiah nodded. "I'll be out there in a minute."

Although the castle was and had always been safe for as long as Jeremiah had been alive, ever since the return of Hamilton to its walls even back then, there was a pinch that reached Demiesius' nerves whenever he stepped away from his loved ones. Whether it be for an hour, two hours, or an entire night, the elder preferred that someone with great strength and purpose remained watchful over the castle in his absence, and the elder trusted no other's strength more than Jeremiah and Dominick's. With Dominick usually arriving sometime after midnight, Jeremiah would have to be alert at least until then.

As he made his way from the west wing of the castle after a minute, he bore witness to a seemingly angered Avery storming up the opposite stairwell to the bedroom quarters.

Obviously fuming, Avery's fists were balled as he stomped away. Like Lysander and Gabriel, he was fitted in his sleepwear that consisted of pink silk, and his hair was tied into a lengthy ponytail that nearly reached the small of his back.

"Avery," Jeremiah called, standing at the base of the steps. "Let me guess. Sebastian?"

Avery stopped and glared into his brother's eyes. While his anger wasn't meant for Jeremiah, his livid expression at least answered the question. "Of course it's stupid Sebastian," he spat. "He made me spill my drink all over the mat in Father's library. So, I punched him in his stupid, ugly face, and Dad sent me to my room."

Jeremiah shook his head, not surprised at all that another bout had broken out between Avery and Sebastian. For whatever reason, they were far more prone to clashes than the other Titus boys, and the clashes were, more often than not, prompted by some form of nudging by Sebastian.

"Is he in trouble, too?" Jeremiah asked.

"Yes," Avery grumbled, crossing his arms and there was a switch to his hips. "Dad is making him clean it up, but I'd rather get back to beating the shit out of him."

Jeremiah couldn't help smiling at the boy's hot temper. Based on the way he looked, no one would think he was a walking firecracker. On the outside, he looked like the sweetest, most well-mannered boy, and, by all means, he was, but the second he was crossed, Avery Titus would certainly defend himself in the right moments.

"Well, just go to your room for now," Jeremiah tapped a soft hand against his brother's cheek. "You know Dad isn't mad at you. He just doesn't like that you and Sebastian fight so much."

When Avery continued away to his room in the east wing of the castle, Jeremiah went along to where he could feel Sebastian and Gabriel now were.

In the library, Sebastian was on his hands and knees scrubbing away the bloody stain left behind by Avery's drink, the stain not quite letting up no matter what effort he put into it.

On the opposite side of the room, Gabriel was seated in a leather armchair with his feet pulled up and a book in his lap .

"What are you reading tonight?" Jeremiah stepped around Sebastian and neared Gabriel. "That's not one of the books you got from the store, is it?"

Gabriel placed the thick book in his lap and showed the front cover. It was old and worn, looking like a piece plucked from Demiesius' ancient collection.

"Vampirism Through the Fall of the Roman Empire," Gabriel kept his voice down as if not wanting to be heard. "I hadn't read this one yet, and by the time I reached part seven...I started to think this is one Father wouldn't have wanted me to touch."

"Why do you say that?" Jeremiah asked.

The young dhampir flipped a couple pages back and handed the book over. The spine was a bit flimsy, and the pages were yellow, the strong scent of its age rising into Jeremiah's nose. From the illustration printed on the left page, perhaps it wasn't a good idea for a thirteen-year-old to have free reign over the books in the library. It was of an unclothed man and there appeared to be many open wounds on his neck, arms, legs, and groin; all of which had been administered by an immortal.

Jeremiah received the book in hand and read the first paragraph that popped out at him.

It read: While very much known to be egotistical and driven by power, politicians of the senate were acknowledged as sex driven men whose tastes for bedroom stimulation often outweighed their judgment. Although sexual desires could easily be fulfilled by slaves such as concubines of the time, senators, as well as the majority of emperors, enjoyed taking beautiful immortal men and women to their bed chambers. A type of sexual pleasure greatly sought by men of higher status was a combination of blood collection from the nether regions and portions of pain; much like what is referred to as ‘masochism'. Acts that took place involved small lacerations administered to the base of a human man's penis, allowing blood to flow down his shaft as a willing immortal took part in oral sex.

Finishing the paragraph, Jeremiah closed the book and handed it back to his brother. "Why is that documented?" he shook his head with a laugh. "Who cares what old men like to do in the bedroom."

"It's not just about that," Gabriel flipped to the page he'd left off on. "Ultimately, it only details senator's...intercourse...with vampires to later tell of how certain immortals gained portions of influence during that time through favors of…sex."

"Right…" Jeremiah sat down on the armrest of the chair Gabriel was seated in, raking his fingers gingerly through the top of the boy's hair. "I guess if you don't want father to know you're reading that, make sure you put it back when you feel him near. Anyways, did you see what happened with Sebastian and Avery?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and looked at Sebastian from over the top of his book. "Yeah," he said, "Avery just came down to ask if he could have some candy from my room, and Baz over here just has to go and mess with him."

Sebastian stood once he was finished scrubbing the bloodstain on the floor; there was surely going to be an obvious trace left behind. "What do you want me to do? Apologize?"

"That'd be nice," Jeremiah narrowed his gaze at the cocky teenager. "He's your brother. You need to stop picking on him so much considering what happened to him tonight. He doesn't always need to have a hard time because of you every day of his life."

"So, you want me to apologize...? "

"Matter of fact," Jeremiah pushed himself up from the armrest and turned Sebastian to the entry of the library. "Yes. You're apologizing to Avery whether you like it or not."

Without complaint, Sebastian followed Jeremiah and they headed to Avery's bedroom. It was located down a wide corridor with white tiled floor and light tan and gold papered walls. Directly next to Gabriel's room, whose door was unpainted and white, Avery's bedroom door had been painted a lavender shade with darker purple birds.

"Go away!" Avery shouted, already able to feel that Sebastian was standing on the other side.

Just by the sudden alteration in Avery's voice, Jeremiah could tell the boy had been crying. He turned the knob to the door and opened it anyway. The bedroom had dark purple walls, and the furnishings were all black as a fluffy white rug centered the floor. The tall windows were covered with blackout drapes, he had plush toys on the tops of his shelves and all over his bed, collectable dolls in unopened boxes, beauty kits on his dresser, and there was a stocked vanity beside the farthest window.

Lain in the center of his white sheeted bed, Avery's arms were folded under his head, and he had obviously been crying only a moment ago. Concerned for him, Jeremiah neared the bed and took a seat beside his younger brother. "You okay?" he asked, running his fingers through Avery's hair.

The angry dhampir hid his face even more by turning away, "I'm sick of Sebastian being mean to me all the time!" he shouted into his pillow.

Jeremiah glared at Sebastian from over his shoulder and nodded for him to enter the room. When he did so, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, taking the look in his eldest brother's eyes into account. "I'm sorry," he expressed, even though it didn't sound all too genuine.

"You don't mean it!" Avery sat up and chucked one of his pillows. "Get out of my room, you shit!"

"Avery," Sebastian went on, "Look, honestly, I mess with you, because you're the only one who'll fight with me. I'm being serious. I don't mean to make you feel bad or anything; you just throw some good punches, y'know?"

Hearing this made Avery give his brother an odd look. As he sat up and continued to rub the tears from his glistening eyes, he glowered and said, "So you pull my hair, so I'll punch you in the face, and trip me so I'll throw you across the room?"

Sebastian wavered. "Hey, you've never actually succeeded in kicking my arse. Yeah, you've given me bloody noses here and there, but I always end up pinning your scrawny arse to the ground."

Avery was in Sebastian's face in a flash. "You want to try again?"

After hearing that, Jeremiah grabbed Sebastian by the shoulder and turned him around. "Alright, I think that's enough," he said, wanting to distance the two before either of them got the idea to brawl again. "See, Avery. He apologized. Now, both of you just take a breather from one another. If Father comes home and Dad decides to tell him you've been fighting again , you already know he'll punish you with...what?"

Together, Sebastian and Avery shivered from the prospect of what punishment they'd be met with. "No internet for a week!"

"Now stop with the fighting," Jeremiah left the bedroom with Sebastian, and they went their separate ways.

As he should have upon returning home, he followed the paternal pull that led directly to Hamilton. He walked down long corridors and passed tall, open doorways. Every room in the castle was put together exquisitely, and though the majority of the rooms were already put together from the furnishings that'd been placed years prior, there were several other rooms delightfully decorated by Hamilton.

Through the years he'd been at Demiesius' side, Hamilton continued to give this place his own charming touch, and his favorite room was the one he was currently in with his youngest son.

The fountain room, or as it'd been called when all the boys were still around their toddler ages, the ‘pool time' room; it was a polished area with marble walls and flooring. There were several rounded off glass windows on the far end, marble benches were placed before them, and a shallow, rectangular water fountain was in the middle.

In the center of the fountain, a carved and detailed statue of a woman held a golden spear and shield, and from two tilted vases on either side of her, water spouted into the shallow pool below.

On a curved bench in front of the pool, Hamilton was sitting with Lysander with their feet dipped into the water, and he was listening to the boy tell him about how well he was doing with his studies whenever he and Dominick had learning sessions together.

Jeremiah couldn't help a smile when laying eyes on Hamilton and his attentiveness to Lysander's words. Through the years he and Demiesius grew their family to the size it was now, Hamilton had aged an additional ten years before gladly returning to a life of immortality in the manner he and Demiesius had originally planned so many years before.

Now forty-one in human years, the fairness of Hamilton's beauty still shone as wonderfully as it always had. His sun-colored tresses grew far past his shoulder blades, the grace of his outward charm hadn't faded one bit, but there was the faintest show of time that sat almost unnoticed at the corners of his ocean eyes. He'd tried to beat the wrinkles, but they weren't a feature Jeremiah, nor Demiesius, would qualify as a flaw.

Nothing about Hamilton in Demiesius' eyes could ever be considered an imperfection.

Never.

"I'm glad you're understanding, sweetheart," Hamilton smiled earnestly. "It probably helps that you and your brothers have something like a photographic memory, eh?"

Lysander laughed, dark eyes that looked so much like Demiesius' shining in delight. "Sometimes I wonder if Dominick knows we have good memories. He repeats himself a lot!"

"Hey," Jeremiah entered the fountain room and placed a hand atop Lysander's hair. "What are we talking about over here?"

Lysander looked up at his brother, scrunching his nose when Jeremiah rustled his hair, and he said, "I was telling Dad how well I'm doing in my lessons with Dominick."

"Oh, yeah?" Jeremiah quirked a brow. "What's ninety-seven times thirteen?"

Only needing to put in an extra second of thought, Lysander said, "One thousand two hundred and sixty one."

Not having expected the quick answer, Jeremiah nodded, impressed, and took a seat on the marble bench. He reclined so that his head would rest in Hamilton's lap.

The former slayer smiled lightly down on his first born, touching fairly at his hairline and fixed the strays of blond streaming into the black half. "It was only four hours but how did you sleep?"

"Alright," Jeremiah left it at that, not wanting the topic of himself to remain for too long. "Do you know what Father stepped out for?"

"Not quite," Hamilton shook his head, "Whatever it is, though, I'm worried how long it'll take him. It's nearly midnight here and he said the gathering is taking place in South Korea; the sun has already risen over there. And while your father can withstand the sun for hours at a time, I know it drains the energy from him."

"I'm sure the gathering is taking place indoors at least," Jeremiah reassured. "After well over two-thousand years, I think it's safe to say he knows his limits."

"You're right," Hamilton nodded, watching as Lysander stepped out of the shallow pool and dried off his feet. "I must admit I am very curious about what's going on over there. From what I overheard from the call he received; it might have something to do with another dhampir. Obviously, I'm no stranger to dhampirs, but sometimes I wonder how many families like ours are out there. Are their parents married? Do their children attend regular school like other humans? Are they living normal lives? Well, as normal a life as a family with secrets can have."

"To be fair," Jeremiah said, eyes meeting the domed ceiling overhead. There were intricate designs carved every which way, like a sculptor took their time to get every crevice right. "When I was small, I didn't know the world I was growing up in was drastically different from the rest. Then again, we didn't have television until I was seven and the only considerably normal thing I participated in was Halloween. I thought everyone lived distant lives until Dominick started looking after me at his coven."

Regardless of the quaintness in Jeremiah's voice, Hamilton knew it was a difficult topic. It'd been so long now since he and his son had been stripped from being a part of each other's lives in their most crucial years, and perhaps it could be said that old wounds were relatively healed, but acknowledging his and Jeremiah's lack of a proper upbringing together would likely never entirely fade.

"Jeremiah," Lysander said, a curious note in his voice. "What was your first Halloween like? Did you get lots of candy?"

Able to smile at the recollections, Jeremiah thought back to when he was seven years old. It'd been the same year in which a television had been brought into the castle for the first time. The old, wide, and clunky box had perplexed Jeremiah so much, and he'd jumped from the initial static that reached the screen during the first power up.

As the end of October had been nearing, news broadcasts, and television specials caught the attention of young Jeremiah at the time; the mentioning of Halloween and the odd prospect of strangers handing out candy to children were thrilling. Naturally, candy itself had been what drove him to beg and plead with Dominick to take him. He hadn't bothered trying to ask Demiesius. It wasn't that speaking to the man was impossible, but…it'd been difficult.

"My first Halloween was great," Jeremiah said. He wouldn't be lying to state such. "Dominick took me walking, and although he hadn't let me eat much of my candy the same night, I had enough to last me to the end of the year."

"Only Dominick?" Lysander questioned .

It wasn't a secret that Hamilton and Demiesius hadn't been able to raise their first born as intimately as they should have been able to, but the strained and rather far-off relationship between father and eldest son wasn't a topic so willingly passed down.

"Yes," Jeremiah answered, keeping the weight of the melancholic recollection away from his voice. "Father is a busy man. You know that."

"Yeah, I know. Now we celebrate my birthday on Halloween!" Lysander said proudly.

Sitting up when Lysander left the pool room after hearing his name, Jeremiah pushed a huff of breath from his lungs, offering a smile to Hamilton who was anything but ignorant to his son's veiled woe. There was a great show of the love he knew Jeremiah carried for his brother's, but it was difficult knowing there was such a stark difference in the hand Jeremiah had been given compared to them.

"I'm sorry," Hamilton felt the need to say, passing a hand down Jeremiah's back.

"I hate when you apologize," the dhampir said. "I don't think it would be fair for me to be upset with either you or Father. Sure, sometimes I wish he'd done for me as he's done for everyone else, but he struggled in a way I'll never want to experience, and wanting Sebastian, Avery, Gabriel, and Lysander to see him the way I did isn't something I'd want either. Besides, it's not like Father and I aren't on good terms. The faith he has in me is immeasurable, and the way he looks at me, I see regret in it sometimes, but the relationship we have with each other now is far better."

"I'm glad you can find it in yourself to say that." Hamilton smiled. "He trusts you so much, you know that?"

"I think it's more so because I bring your humanity into deliberations. Ever since losing Minerva, his compassion has plummeted a good bit, and he seems to use me to wrangle in the final judgment. Well, when he wants my input, which isn't very often."

At the mere understanding of Demiesius seeing great pieces of himself in their son, Hamilton beamed even brighter, the crinkles beside his eyes seeming to shine.

Before Jeremiah could think to add anything more, his thoughts were snagged when the voice of Demiesius entered his thoughts. There was no urgency, no stress, just the typical proper accent that'd remained in the elder's voice through each and every century that went by.

"Jeremiah," the elder translated. "Do you recall the coven you attended with me in central Seoul, South Korea."

"Yes," he answered promptly, Hamilton able to see his focus. "The one I oversaw the appointment of the new leader a month ago."

"Correct," Demiesius said. "I would like for you to meet me here, as there is a task I feel you will be most suited for."

"What about everyone here at home? Dominick won't be here for another hour and a half."

A silence remained then, and Hamilton knitted his brow, "Is something wrong?"

Before he could answer, the presence of Demiesius' arrival within the castle walls filled the atmosphere. Jeremiah stepped out into the hallway, Hamilton joining him after drying off his feet from the pool.

As sharply dressed as he was any other night, Demiesius descended the hall in a solid black suit, his river of jet black hair down to the center of his back. Over time, never had Demiesius changed the manner in which he carried himself in front of his family. Always poised and broad shouldered, his seemingly unruffled stature appeared brooding, but not a single night had gone by since Sebastian's birth when the quaintness in his aura faltered.

"Choi Ha-yoon awaits you," the elder informed.

She was the newly appointed leader placed over the Seoul coven, formally known as the Song Coven in which Jeremiah had observed. It was for him to get an understanding of how positions of power were transferred among their people.

Much like Dominick had after stepping away from his previous position over his London-based coven, immortals who chose to step down already had someone else in mind to take their place. Alternatively, if the coven leader somehow died, the elders would carry out the approval to weed out the possibility of treachery.

From Jeremiah's understanding, the former Seoul leader had simply stepped away. Given that, Jeremiah wondered what Demiesius' presence must warrant for him to have been summoned.

"What's going on?" Jeremiah asked, but before Demiesius could expand on the details of his duties moving forward, everyone turned at the burst of excitement hustling down the lengthy corridor.

Although Avery had been ordered to his room after his altercation with Sebastian, he'd sprung from the confines of his bedchamber the second Demiesius' aura returned to the castle.

As the young, pretty dhampir had been ordered away by Hamilton himself, the enthusiasm of Demiesius' return warmed Hamilton's heart and he merely shook his head with a smile.

Leaping into his father's arms, Avery latched onto Demiesius, arms locked around the top of the elder's shoulders. "Welcome home, Father," he said in musical merriment.

"Hello, son," Demiesius said, holding still as the active dhampir worked himself around so he would be piggybacked instead, smiling still so brightly as he pressed his cheek to his father's.

"Never mind," Jeremiah took a step away, the dark mists of his mastering whirling around his feet as they climbed his legs. "I'll speak with Ha-yoon myself and report to you later."

Demiesius nodded and started away with Avery on his back and Hamilton at his side. Jeremiah couldn't help but chuckle when the entirety of his mastering gathered around him, and he overheard Avery when he said, "You're going to be so mad when you see what Sebastian did in the library."