Zane got off the lovely private jet in front of The Haven mansion after the one hour ride back. He was deep in though, and, for the life of him, he couldn’t get the feeling of Blaise pressed up against him out of his mind, no matter how unwilling it had been.

      He had sat in that cheap motel room for a good fifteen minutes before Blaise had even known he was there. And then the words she had said to him, and the emotion in those words, had drawn his undivided attention, well almost, since he had stepped foot out of that room. The look in her eyes had been dead serious, despite the anger. She had truly believed, and meant, it when she had told him that, without some more help, they wouldn’t last long. Everything she had said she had truly believed, and, to the extent of what he knew, Zane believed it, too. She was getting desperate, and she wasn’t going to give up without a fight…to The Haven or to the vampires.

      "How’d it go?" Carolina looked up from the front desk as he walked in.

      "I honestly don’t know," Zane said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and sitting down in one of the lobby chairs. ‘Funny,’ he thought, looking around. ‘A lobby and a receptionist desk, yet we never have any use for them…nobody but those who work here ever come through here.’

       "What’s that supposed to mean?" Fredrick Benedict asked, coming into the lobby with Jacob Creeden.

      "It means that I think we need to help them more," Zane said, surprising even himself.

      "Impossible. We’re doing everything we can," Jacob said with a wave of his hand.

      "Not according to Blaise," Zane blurted out. "She was pretty pissed, and pretty bent on pissing off the world if she didn’t get her way. She’s a determined woman, let me tell you that."

      "She’s a child who thinks that the world revolves around her," Fredrick answered disdainfully. Zane shook his head.

      "No, I doubt that. Her world revolves around her and her sisters’ safety. They need help."

      "They have all the help that we are able to give," Jacob informed him sternly. "They just haven’t got used to the fact that this is the way it is…their situation is not quite as dire as they seem to think. They’ll get used to it."

      With that, the two men left the room, and Carolina made a noise of disgust.

      "We have four floors of rooms that should be used for housing those who are running but are beginning to get slowed down and need some help. I know its been a thousand years since those rooms have been used, but maybe they should be reopened," she said angrily.

      "Why’d we stop using them?" Zane wondered, looking up.

      Carolina shrugged. "I think that it was because of a couple attacks on same major people in Council…the elders got scared and kicked everybody out to make the attacks stop."

      Zane snorted his contempt and fell back into his deep and troubled thoughts. ‘Well,’ he finally thought. ‘There’s nothing much more that I can do.’

      Suddenly, he noticed something. "Oh crap," he said aloud, his eyes growing wide.

      "What?" Carolina asked, looking up from whatever she was doing.

      "I think I left my book in their motel room," he admitted, looking over at her.

      "Your Haven issued one with all the numbers and addresses and everything?" Carolina asked, trying to get more clarification.

      Zane nodded. "Yeah."

      She began laughing merrily. "Oh, now that’s ironic…and I doubt that you ‘left’ it there. That girl sounds determined to me…she probably lifted it off of you!"

      "Can I write the next part of the message on the mirror, Blaise?" Aleigha asked the next morning, smiling as she came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and ready to go after her shower.

      "Sure," Blaise replied, looking up briefly from the little book in her hands. Maj, who had been bathed and dressed earlier, sat beside her on the bed.

      As Aleigha grabbed the lipstick, Blaise looked over the cover of the book. In gold, curving script it simply read Zane Zachary Matthews. ‘Oh, so he has a name,’ Blaise thought to herself as she opened the book. There, on the first page, was what she was looking for.

      "The Haven, 6374 Eden St., Oklahoma City, Oklahoma," she read aloud before snapping it closed and slipping it into her pocket. "Come on, girls!"

      Maj looked up at the joyous tone in her sisters voice. "Where are we going today?" she couldn’t help but ask.

      "Well, thanks to a late-night, un-welcomed visitor whose address book I lifted, we know exactly where The Haven is," Blaise replied as she tossed the CD player back into the backpack and pulling the small .45 handgun out and slipping it in her back pocket. "So that’s where we’re going."

      Aleigha smiled as she tossed Blaise the lipstick and grabbed her duffel bag. Blaise looked at the mirror and read the message aloud.

      "I believe we place our happiness in other people’s hands. Signed, Aleigha, Maj, and Blaise. P.S.-I believe the junk food tastes so good because its bad for you."

      Blaise smiled and took Maj’s hand. "Come on, let’s go check-out."

      Arielle Lampert was sitting at the receptionist desk, looking through a stack of paper when the sound of the front doors of The Haven opening made her look up. Three young girls, the oldest being no more than sixteen, and the youngest one small enough to be carried in upon the oldest one’s hip, walked in, looking around warily as they made their way to the front desk. The oldest girl was dressed casually in a pair of baggy corduroys and a cut-off t-shirt, with a pair of well-worn sneakers on her feet. Her thick red ringlets were being held back by a pair of sunglasses that were acting as a headband. The youngest girl, who, as aforementioned, was on her hip was dressed in a pair of worn, faded jeans and a t-shirt that was a bit too big. Her long, red ringlets were pulled up in two messy pigtails, and she looked adorable. The middle girl, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen, was dressed in a pair of relatively new jeans and a men’s dress shirt, sneakers on her feet and a lovely yet simple charm bracelet on her left wrist. Her red ringlets were held back by a series of perfectly matched and color-coordinated butterfly clips.

      "Hi there, may I help you?" Arielle asked with a pleasant smile, stopping her work and watching the three girls who had finally stopped in front of the desk.

      "Yeah, I think you can," the oldest girl replied, readjusting the little girl on her hip as she watched Arielle with a pair of large, silvery eyes that had obviously known more than their fair share of hard times.

      "Are you lost or something?" Arielle wondered.

      "No," came the reply. "This is The Haven, right?"

      Arielle froze. Very few people outside of those who worked there actually knew about The Haven, and she was positive that these three girls shouldn’t know. The oldest girl noticed her hesitation and smiled knowingly.

      "Great, I knew it was. Now, I need to speak to whoever’s in charge."

      Arielle shook her head, her blonde curls falling into her eyes annoyingly. "I’m sorry, I can’t help you."

      "No, you don’t seem to understand," the oldest girl said, leaning forward a bit. "I need to speak with whoever’s in charge, and I need to speak with them now."

      "I’m sorry, I can not help you," Arielle repeated, hoping that maybe they’d go away.

      "Enough of this bullshit. Let me speak to whoever’s in charge," the oldest girl demanded, her eyes hardening and the slight smile falling off of her face. "Please," she added as an afterthought.

      Arielle was slightly taken aback, but kept her cool and held her stance. "I’m sorry, I can not help you. I need to ask you to leave."

      The oldest girl shook her head slowly. "No, I’m afraid that you don’t understand," she said, taking a step back and reaching behind her with her free hand. The middle girl stepped slightly behind her as if for protection. "My name is Blaise Marx, and I need to speak to whoever’s in charge," she finished, pulling a gun out of her back pocket and aiming it steadily in the sideways ‘ghetto’ hold at Arielle’s head. "Please."

      Arielle took a deep, frightened breath and nodded before pressing a button on the intercom. "Mr. Creeden, please come out here for a second. Its regarding the Marx case." She cut the connection, and the girl smiled before situating herself on the desk next to Arielle. The other girl sat on Arielle’s other side, and the youngest child crawled into the middle girl’s lap.

      "I’m really sorry to be doing this," Blaise apologized sincerely. "But I am tired of all this shit you guys keep pulling. Nothing personal."

      Arielle nodded mutely, her throat painfully dry. The lull seemed interminably long before the elevator bell sounded and Jacob Creeden, along with Zane Matthews, came into the lobby before stopping cold. Blaise had the gun aimed at them instantly.

      "Hello, again," she greeted with a smile, her greeting aimed at Zane, who was staring at her in slight confusion. She pulled a small book out of her pocket and tossed it to him. "I believe that this is yours."

      "Who are you?" Jacob Creeden demanded, still unmoving.

      "Oh, you know me…though only by what you read on paper," Blaise replied. "I’m Blaise Marx, and these are my sisters, Aleigha and Maj."

      Jacob Creeden froze as he recognized the names. Then, he turned on Zane. "I thought that you stopped them from looking for us!"

      "They obviously didn’t listen to me," Zane mumbled in reply as he shrugged, but, when he glanced at Blaise, she could see the laughing twinkle in his gray eyes.

      Jacob looked back at her. "Why are you here? What is the meaning of this?"

      "We need help, and you’re supposed to be giving it to us. However, you’re not, so we’re here to ‘discuss’ the matter," Blaise replied in a real smart ass tone.

      "There’s nothing to discuss. We can’t help you. Now let Arielle go," Jacob ordered slowly. Blaise shrugged and nodded to Arielle.

      "Sure." She watched as Arielle shot out of her chair and stumbled over to stand by Zane. Blaise judged that the woman wasn’t more than about eighteen, and she was considerably pale when she should be in the prime of her health. Blaise smiled to herself.

      "Now," Jacob continued, seeing that his personnel were safe. "If you three leave now, we’ll forget this little incident and allow things to go on as usual."

      "And if we don’t?" Aleigha asked before Blaise could. Her older sister shot her a hidden smile of approval.

      "Then we withdraw our support," Jacob threatened.

      "I already told them that," Zane cut in. Jacob shrugged him off and waited for Blaise to reply.

      "Oh, so you simply allow the inevitable to happen sooner than it would have in the first place, is what you’re trying to say," Blaise finally said with a laugh and a shake of her head. "I’m afraid that you don’t understand. We don’t have any choice. We’re not going to live much longer unless we get some damned help."

      Jacob shook his head. "You are doing fine. You have our financial support, and we’re keeping tabs on you. As long as you stop this foolishness, keep running, and do what you’re supposed to, then you’ll be fine."

      "What if you don’t know what you’re talking about?" Blaise shot back angrily as she tightened her grip on the gun.

      "I do know what I’m talking about," came Jacob’s reply.

      "How would you know? You’re not there with us," Aleigha pointed out bitterly.

      "We know more about you then you think," Jacob said. "You just have to keep going."

      "What if we’re tired of running?" Blaise asked, her voice sounding almost tired.

      "You have to keep running anyway."

      "What if we’re too scared to?" Maj spoke up quietly, her eyes asking the question as well as her voice. Blaise reached over and squeezed her baby sister’s hand reassuringly while Aleigha hugged her tightly. Then, the three girls all looked at Jacob with accusing eyes.

      "Its your fault," Aleigha told him.

      "You won’t help us when you know damned well that you can," Blaise added.

      "You know we’re scared, and you don’t care," Maj put in, her bottom lip trembling. One big, fat tear rolled down her cheek, followed a moment later by another, and then another, until her whole tiny body was shaking with her crying.

      "I hate you!" she screamed suddenly at Jacob. "I hate you because you can help us! I hate you because you won't! I hate you because you don’t care! I hate you because you’re too selfish to want to care! I hate you because you make Blaise worry all the time! I hate you because we have to run! I hate you because we have no real home! I hate you because my Mama and Daddy are dead! I hate you because Aleigha cries at night! I hate you because Blaise cries all the time, though she thinks we don’t know it! I hate you because we have no friends! I hate you because we’re never anywhere long enough to make any! I hate you because you are part of making our lives a hell on Earth! I hate you so much that if there was a real hell after death, I would damn you to there! I hate you just as much as I hate the vampires! I HATE YOU!"

      The full force of the four year old’s emotions, genius intelligence, and wishes came out in those various phrases of why she hates Jacob Creeden. She didn’t sound like a four year old then; she sounded like a twenty year old. By the time she was done, she was clinging to Aleigha’s neck and sobbing into her shoulder while Blaise glared at Jacob Creeden.

      "I hope you feel like the biggest piece of shit on Earth," Aleigha said simply, her eyes looking accusingly at Jacob Creeden. "Because you are."

      "We can’t help you," Jacob repeated, his voice gentler now but his resolve still in place. "We can’t. I’m sorry."

      "You self-centered bastard! Stop lying to us!" Blaise suddenly yelled, thrusting the gun into Aleigha’s capable hands and lunging off the desk, tears streaming down her cheeks in a torrent. Zane managed to catch her before she reached Jacob, whose eyes she wanted to tear out.

      "Stop it!" he ordered in her ear. "Just stop it!"

      By now, almost everybody in the building was gathered in the room, a large circle of people surrounding the desk where Aleigha and Maj sit and that Blaise stands a few feet in front of, and, in that same circle, where Zane, Jacob, and Arielle stand.

      "What on Earth are you doing to these poor children?" A new voice spoke up. A woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties pushed her way out of the circle of people and into the main ‘arena’.

      "Absolutely nothing. They came in here demanding things that we can’t give," Jacob replied. "So just stay out of it, please, I’ll handle this, Brooke."

      "Jacob Creeden, I may have handed you the position of Head of Haven, but I have been with The Haven since the beginning, a good thousand years before you were even born, so I do have some weight in all matters that concern anyone within The Haven, or those who we are supposed to protect," the woman, Brooke, shot back as she pushed Zane out of her way and gave Blaise a steadying hand before continuing. "And when you have three children sitting here, all of whom are crying, something more is going on."

      "Brooke, its like I said-" Jacob began.

      "Jacob, stop it. I’m done talking to you right now," Brooke interrupted sharply before motioning to Aleigha and Maj to come join her and Blaise. The two girls hesitantly hopped off the desk and walked over. Maj immediately attached herself to Blaise’s leg, knowing that now wasn’t the time to be picked up.

      "Now," Brooke began gently, wiping tears from Aleigha’s face with a Kleenex. "What is it you came here asking for?"

      "What we can’t possibly give," Jacob answered before any of the girls could open their mouths.

      "She didn’t ask you!" Maj shouted at him angrily. "So shut up!"

      There were a couple chuckles from within the crowd who were watching as she, a four year old, yelled at him, something that no one else had ever tried to do besides Brooke.

      "What was it you came here looking for?" Brooke asked again, ignoring Jacob and Maj’s little outburst.

      "Help," Blaise and Aleigha answered in unison.

      "We’re scared," Maj added pitifully, no longer the assertive and stubborn little girl.

      There were more than a few sniffles from the crowd, many of whom hated to see the girls so obviously asking for what they needed, and what every other normal child on the planet had, and being denied it. Brooke nodded and waited for them to go on, as she knew they would.

      "We’re tired of running. We won’t last the year out, either…we can’t do it…they will get us soon. We’re going at a dead run, and yet we still don’t have a chance," Blaise said, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand.

      "Do you know that the average life span of anyone, our mother, our grandparents, their parents, their parents parents…the average life span has been only forty-one?" Aleigha added, her mathematical genius kicking in. "Parents rarely see their children grow up fully. It’s the stress and the worry and everything else."

      "We can’t keep going," Maj said. "We’re too scared."

      "All we want is for you to help us like you’re supposed to! We just want to be safe and not have to run anymore! You guys here can give that to us, and you won’t!" Aleigha cried, tears falling steadily down her cheeks as she reached out and grabbed Blaise’s hand.

      "We wouldn’t be here if we had anywhere else to go," Blaise added before all three girls fell silent. Brooke was blinking back tears at the emotions that were flying as her heart ached for these girls.

      "Listen to me, okay?" she finally began, taking one of Aleigha’s hands and one of Maj’s hands. She looked steadily at all three of them before continuing. "We know that you’re scared. Everybody who is in a situation like yours is scared. But you are doing fine. You have the ring, you have the money in the bank. You’ll be fine. I know it doesn’t seem like it at times, and I know that its especially hard for you three, being young and all, but you’re doing just as well as your parents, and their parents, and all of your other ancestor’s did. Everything’s going to be all right. You just need to persevere and keep going. You’ll be fine."

      "So you’re still saying that we can’t stay here, even though there’s plenty of room and you could help us if you wanted to?" Aleigha asked, her eyes narrowing.

      "You can’t stay here."

      In a blur of motion, Blaise took the gun from Aleigha’s pocket and, slipping it in her own, picked up Maj and took Aleigha’s hand. Brooke had not replied to the last part of her question, and it had confirmed what Blaise had strongly suspected all along. The Haven could help them. It just didn’t want to.

      "Fine. Fuck you all. We’ll leave, and when we die before the year’s out, I hope you all feel real great about yourselves and that you don’t lose any sleep, knowing that you turned us out when you knew damned well that you could’ve helped us," she said bitterly, her voice ringing clear and firm throughout the room. She began walking towards the exit doors, pushing people out of her way if they didn’t move fast enough. She let the front doors of the building slam behind her.

      Maj, Aleigha, and Blaise sat in a silent hotel room, the remainders of their dinner tossed long ago into the trash can. Maj sat curled up in Aleigha’s lap on one bed, where Aleigha tried to get her little sister interested in a coloring book. Blaise lay stretched out on the other bed, her back to her sisters, and Aleigha and Maj knew that she was crying. Blaise hadn’t said a word since they had left The Haven, and Aleigha and Maj had respected that silence by keeping as quiet as they could. However, Maj was getting tired, and she was demanding that Aleigha sing to her.

      "All right, Maj, all right," Aleigha said. "Be quiet and listen." She tucked Maj in underneath the blankets and began singing. She didn’t know the beginning of the slowest, most lulling song she thought of, so she just began with the second verse of Savage Garden’s ‘Two Beds and A Coffee Machine’, which was appropriate enough for their situation.

      "There are children to think of, baby’s asleep in the backseat. Wonder how they’ll ever make it through this living nightmare, but the mind is an amazing thing. Full of candy dreams and new toys and another cheap hotel, two beds and a coffee machine. But there are groceries to buy and she knows she’ll have to go home. Another ditch in the road, you keep moving. Another stop sign, you keep moving on. And the years go by so fast, wonder how I ever made it through."

      It didn’t take long for a mentally exhausted Maj to fall fast asleep, her thumb in her mouth, and Aleigha stopped singing and slowly backed off of the bed. She walked over to the other bed and sat down next to Blaise, staring down at her sister’s back.

      She opened her mouth to speak, but Blaise rolled over and looked up at her through tear-filled eyes. "What are we gonna do, Aleigha?" she wondered, not really expecting an answer.

      "We’ll figure something out," Aleigha replied as her older sister buried her head against her knee. Aleigha could feel Blaise’s tears soaking through the cloth of her jeans and sighed. "We always do."

      "If they’d only help us," Blaise whimpered.

      "We tried, at least," Aleigha whispered as she patted Blaise’s hair. She was at a loss; Blaise had never cried so openly around her or Maj before. "Its on their conscious now."

      "What conscious? They’re saving their asses, and we’re the ones who’re gonna-" Blaise broke off as another sob rose in her throat.

      "Like I said, we’ll think of something," Aleigha repeated. Maj, who had woken up and sensed her sisters’ distress, climbed onto the bed beside Blaise.

      "Its going to be okay," Maj whispered, leaning down close to Blaise’s ear. "We’ll be okay." Then, she planted a kiss on Blaise’s cheek.

      "Come here," Blaise said, pulling Maj into a tight hug. Then, she reached for Aleigha and hugged them both. "You’re right…we’re not going to give up without a fight. It may be a losing battle, but its not over till its over, and its not over yet."