*Branson*
I waited for my brother in the garage.
After Colette had fallen asleep in the sitting room, Jackson made his way quietly down the stairs. I heard his footsteps when they hit the top stair, and made my way into the house to greet him.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his face reminded me of something.
A different time. A different place. A different Jackson.
Sweden, 1896
I watched as my brother ripped the man’s throat out.
I just watched. I did nothing. I didn’t move to stop him, to discourage him from murder. I just stood there, watching, as my brother violently ripped open the young vampire’s throat, his flesh peeling back like a banana from a peel.
“Brother! Stop this!” Karina cried. “He didn’t mean it! He said he was sorry!” My sister sobbed, falling to
