At the advice of his lawyer, Chase arrived at his family's estate on the outskirts of Sacramento some fifteen miles from the epicenter of downtown. He used a route following the border between the Barrens and Valencia so not to attract any attention to himself. Farmland rolled off beyond the Sacramento River, appearing like a black abyssal sea stretching to the horizon. In stark contrast the east side of the river held the Teal Bend Golf Course and International Airport, a sea of light on this narrow precipice that marked its border. His lawyer sat in the car with him, looking stoic, his only seeming concern was to get his client to make contact with his family. The lawyer, Mr. Dershowitz, had informed Chase that it was in his best interest to notify his relatives of his return to Sacramento and of his continuing good health, and that the best way to do that was in person.

Dershowitz had filed all the paperwork with city hall, that Mr. Ankers was again a resident of Sacramento, had begun working at a reputable software company, and that his year-long disapperance was simply taking time off after graduation to recover from the anxiety and pressure of post-college life. Now if he were to make a claim to his inheritance and reestablish himself in his family's good graces he would have to talk to them. Frankly he didn't realize Mr. Anker's objections to the idea.

Chase, however, while seemingly calm, felt like he would sweat bullets if his body had still been capable of it. His leg tapped restlessly on the car floor, his hand gripping the o-shit handle above the window. The compromise, he thought, was that his mother and father were not going to be at the estate that evening. Father was at a software marketing conference out of state while mother was attending some galla in Hollywood. That left only one member of the family to contend with, his sister, Ethelyn. Twenty-two now, she was a prize sought after by the sons of father's business partners, not only for her beauty but for her sharp wit and sense with numbers. She had begun attending business administration courses at Heald College in Chase's absence at Harvard. It had been her intention to leave the state and pursue a Harvard Business Degree much like her brother had but their parents wouldn't have it once Chase had disappeared.

Chase got out of the car and walked up to the intercom that was embedded into the front gates, pressing the call button. A woman's voice came over the speaker. "Who is it?" The voice was full of venemous distain, clearly not interested in unexpected visitors at this hour unless they had a damn good reason.

Chase took a breath, completely unnecessary, yet out of exasperated habit. "My name is Chase Ankers," he said clearly and concisely, and paused for a few seconds. "Is the Lady Ethelyn Ankers home?" There was an even longer pause from the other side. Had the woman been his sister, or was it the maid taking a moment to confirm with her Mistress?

The voice returned to cut through the tense silence, "Chase?", the venom gone, replaced with a distant wonder and confusion. A light mechanical whir from the gate fence indicated that a camera was being activated and turning to look at him. In a moment of panic and will he commanded the supernatural forces within his blood to quell their allusive nature. Let him appear normal on camera, let this not ruin everything, he screamed inside his skull. He stared back into the camera, his face illuminated by the floodlights that popped up on the stretch of lawn. After another unbearable silence transpired over which he stood rigid in anticipation until she said, "It is...it's you." The gates opened.

Chase walked back over to the car window to talk to Dershowitz. "Listen, I know you'd like to be present for this meeting but I'd really like to talk to my sister alone," he declared firmly. Dershowitz protested of course, as he thought he would but Chase insisted to which Dershowitz had little choice but to comply. Leaving the lawyer and the car behind he walked across the estate driveway towards the residence. The driveway was more of a bridge than anything, supported by stone pillars that stood over the center of the lawn. As he grew closer the ground sloped up level with the driveway and continued through a mess of hedges and gardens all to impress the guests that the house had entertained in the past. The house stretched across the landscape, meant to look wider and in turn appear bigger to observers. It was parallel to the river behind it, he remembered, complete with a dock and yacht and boathouse. The house itself was dark treated wood over a stucco stone foundation, a modern design that his father said was quite popular with his real estate buddies. It didn't matter, this wasn't the house he had grown up in anyways. They had moved here after his acceptance into college so he had no memories here to make him feel welcome or nostalgic.

The lights were turning on as he reached the front door, the intricate framework catching his eye. Before he could knock, the door unlatched and opened for him. A woman, not his sister, stood there. She was incredibly alluring, a strong latino heritage, dark hair, dark eyes, plump lips and a curvateous body and standing in nothing but a pink fluffy robe. "Señor Ankers," she said seductively in a lilting accent, something Chase was not at all prepared for. "Welcome, the Mistress is just making herself more presentable for yourself." She bit lightly on the edge of her finger with a smile, implying who knows what. He walked past the scantily clad woman and into the vestibule. Descending from the elaborate curved stairwell in a smooth purple nightgown was Ethelyn, her hair cropped shorter than he remembered, the wavy blond was now flattened into a swirl of bangs that seperated her large mascara-lined blue eyes.

"The protigal son returns," she cries boisterously followed by a peal of laughter. "Chase my dear sweet brother, how now do you come to us, completely out of the blue! I'd say that was so like you but I'd have to say this is the first time you've done anything so outrageous."

She was drunk, or had achieved a level of eccentricity so well known amongst the aristocracy that it was hard to tell the difference. The swagger in her walk suggested it was the former or a mixture of both. Chase was bewildered, caught up in the oddity of the moment, "You're sleeping with the help?!" Chase retorted, throwing social graces out the window.

"Oh!" said Ethelyn in mock surprise, "I'm surprised at you, my allusive brother. Assuming occupational status based on race, how very insensitive." She wagged a finger disapprovingly.

The woman in question simply smiled and whispered comfortingly, "Don't worry, I am the help," not at all offronted and skipped off into the side room presumably to find her clothes.

"Yes, well," said Ethelyn coyly, "just a minor detail," as she reached the foyer standing before Chase, hands placed boldly on her hips. "I figure if father gets to bang her then I might as well too."

"What's happened to you, Lyn?" Chase growled, surprised at how angry he was at his sister's behavior. Instead of welcoming him home she had decided to make light of it, as if it were no big deal, as if his presence were of minor note. "Why are you acting this way?" he demanded.

"Hrmph," she said, cocking her head back as if he had slapped her and walked away down the hall. "Why shouldn't I act this way? You're the one who needs to start explaining yourself. And don't think you can start acting all brotherly now by using that nickname. It's Ethelyn or Ethel or your Ladyship." He followed her, trailing behind helplessly into the household. She was heading to the kitchen where several bottles of liquor were still decorating the lavish counters and wooden tables. It looked like there had been a party perhaps, or perhaps some extensive roughhousing. "A year has gone by and we're all ready to welcome you home, throw you a big bash, the big success, top of his class, major domo to his emporeror whatever the fuck our father thought of you, and here you are. One year late," she pauses from her screaming tyrade, arms wildly shooting out, punctuating her sentences. She whips around to look at him, an index finger held firmly in the air between them, "Very," another pause, "bad manners," and then erupted in a round of giggles as she knocks over a glass that shatters shockingly on the floor.

"Whoops, clumsy me, I'm just all thumbs, don't worry, I'll get the help to clean it up," she snickered as she stepped around the mess.

Chase scratched the back of his head and began walking in circles thinking of something to say to his deranged and apparently angry sister. Finally he turned back to her, her face smiling in mockery. "It was only a year..." he began.

"Yes, only a year!" she interrupted, "A year of panic. My parents, our parents! They were stricken with the knowledge that something had happened to you. And they looked, they sent all sorts of people after you, checking into your college. Woop, not there! Your records, your finances were emptied, like you'd vanished. You don't accidently misplace thousands of dollars and the heir to an aristocratic family overnight! Me, I said you found a girl and ran off with her and that'd be fine with me but no, they persisted!" She turned away, tears suddenly whelling up in her eyes as the emotional memories surfaced, heavily influenced by the booze. She slapped her hands on the counter and shrugged it off with another giggle.

Chase proceeded slowly, listening. He should have expected some sort of reaction but his quiet obedient sibling, how she had changed in a year. What had happened while he was gone? "There was a girl, but that's over now, Lyn. I'm back now, I'm here, staying in Sacramento." He hoped this would ease her mind, would soothe the worry she felt.

She looked back at him over her shoulder, her face blank, maybe glaring, he wasn't sure. She sighed loudly and began walking slowly towards the living room bordering the kitchen and slumped lengthwise along the couch, curling up one leg and twisting her torso in a strange position. He followed again, seating himself across from her perched on the edge of a lounging chair. He had all sorts of questions to ask her but all he could think of was, "You're a lesbian?"

"Idiot," she barked, pulling her head up from the couch with a jerk. "I'm whatever, don't go slapping labels on me in some effort to understand me." She dragged herself to the armrest and leaned against it as they talked. "You know how it is, college, experimenting, alcohol. You didn't come home for my twenty-first birthday, remember? I had to celebrate with someone and boys are scared to death of me."

That was right, he hadn't. He was in Manhattan on a trip with colleagues, seeing the sights and experiencing the big city nightlife. He sighed and folded his hands together in front of him, apologetically.

"Oh don't look like that," she moaned, "It doesn't suit you. You're an Ankers, you're a star, who cares if your little sister is the black sheep of the family," she pouted in another bout of belittlement.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Chase admitted, "But as soon as I come home father has my whole life scheduled for me, it was soffocating here and I needed to take a chance to see the world on my own terms."

"And what about me!" shouted Ethelyn, getting back to her feet just so she could stomp on one. "Don't you think this place is soffocating me? What was I to do? With you gone mother doted on me like a child's doll, flinging me from beauty school to ballet to horsebackriding. I lost my virginity to the saddle of a horse the way that woman rode me! I didn't have time for boys or fun. It was learn learn learn! 'This is the proper way, Ethelyn' 'You'll marry a handsome suitor, you'll see' 'Ethelyn, that outfit makes you look like a harlot!'" parodied Ethelyn in their mother's voice. "Father could care less about me, not a son, not a boy like my big brother, he didn't know what to do with me. Hell, you know all of it, you were there up until a few years ago. Now I don't even know you!" She stormed out, heading who knew where in the large house.

Chase threw up his hands helplessly. Why couldn't he have chosen a night when she wasn't drunk off her ass to visit. Not that he'd know that she would have ended up that way. Maybe this was her time to revel in their parent's absence. Maybe this was how it had been for the last year for her, desperate for release from the conformity and conservative household. And now he floundered, unable to express himself because she kept interrupting him in vengeful rants. He stood up, and hunted her down, sticking his head into rooms as he went, following the main corridor until he reached a hall that had a lit room at the end. It was the study, books lining the walls and a computer atop a thick smooth wooden desk. She sat in the large swivelling chair behind it, curled up, her arms pulled her legs against her. She didn't say anything as he entered or when he sat against the desk across from her.

Yet again, as he opened his mouth to break the silence she cut him off, "I haven't spoken this way to anyone in years, Chase..." sounding melancholy, her mockery and laughter gone. "It feels good to get it all out, shame I had to be drunk to do it."

"Yes," he replied quickly, "I would have preferred otherwise too."

A soft laugh, "Heh, I'm sure you would." And she unfolded herself, leaning back in the soft leather. "So you're back. What now?" She asked, a little more sober in her disposition.

He didn't reply immediately, still unsure what the actual answer was now that he saw her like this. "I've got a job. I've got a life," he scoffed inwardly at the notion. "I won't come back here of course, but I wanted to let mother and father know, to let you know." An awkward silence followed.

"Well, that's a problem," she stated somewhat indignantly, sitting upright, her voice level and calm, speaking matter-of-factly. "Because you see I'm the heiress now. Soon I'll have my degree in Business and I'll get control of father's corporate empire. Not at first, I realize, but I'm not going back to playing second fiddle. I'm not going back to being a support character, a linedancer, a backstage crewmember, not in this play. You'll just have to stay missing, just stay away. It was hard at first but now things couldn't be better." She stood up, facing Chase resolutely, her voice getting slightly more stressed, "You can't just drop off the earth and pick up back where you started, not as an Ankers."

Chase, growing tiresome of his sister's emotional outbursts and sudden coldness came back at the challenge, "So what, you think you can forget this? Forget that I'm here? Hide me from my rights and privledges?"

"You gave those up when you went off to chase a piece of tail. Ha! Chase chases his tail!" she blurted in a laugh.

"I see." He adjusted his sleeves and stood, turning to walk to the door of the study. "You've gotten a taste for power and you don't want to give it up. I can understand that."

"You can't understand, Chase. You never wanted to be a part of daddy's work. You're a beach bum living off his rich parents and I'm a competant businesswoman with a promising future."

"Somehow," he yelled angrily, "I doubt father will see it the same way. I think once he sees me it'll go right back as it was before. He'll have gotten back his heir and he won't need you!" Oh god, did I just said that? Damn it, that's not what I wanted to say. She stood, shocked into silence and pale as death. He could smell fear, because they both knew he was right. When she regained her motor skills she thumped around the desk right up to him and slapped him across the face. The touch carried weight and pain and fear. He could smell something else too, the blood pumping fiercely through her veins flushed in her face as she stood so close to him. When had he fed last?

"Don't you dare...don't you dare..." she started, gritting her teeth in rage. "Rob me of this. I've earned it."

He turned his head back slowly, the beast clawing at the cage of will he kept it in. "You think you've earned something? You think you've sacrificed? You've...no...idea...what the world is truly like, what real sacrifice is about," his words hushed and raspy, monterous in its way.

The maid came up behind them from the hallway, "Miss Ankers? Mr. Ankers? Is everything okay?" she called timidly, having endured the shouts that echoed across the house but having succumbed to worry. Chase spun around and pulled her in by the fabric of her freshly donned french maid uniform and stared into her widening eyes. "Be still!" he commanded, his mind stretching through his piercing gaze to order her body into submission. Ethelyn gasped at the sudden violence in Chase's temper and pulled back as the maid froze still, unblinking.

"Don't come near m..." she started but she too fell under his gaze and all memory faded to white.



Chase left the house, shutting the door behind him gently and striding with purpose towards his lawyer's car. He had reclined the seat and was starting to doze off but snorted in startlement at Chase's knock on the window. He unlocked the door and let Chase back into the passenger seat. "Urm, so how did it go with your sister?" he asked hesitantly. "Was she relieved to see you were alright?"

Chase smiled knowingly and nodded, the taste of blood still sweet in his mouth. He gestured with a wave of his hand for Dershowitz to start the car and take him home. His sister and the maid would awaken likely the next morning and chalk up their anemic symptoms to a hangover. They would have forgetten his arrival, made his sister forget her confessions and the violent end to their conversation. If security cared to check the front gate camera footage for that evening they would have found the file deleted and cleared from its cache. It was interesting to see how his sister had developed, how the honeyed liquor flavor mingled in her blood, the adrenaline from sex and fury lingering as an aftertaste. He would have to change his plans now, but it may yet prove a better outcome than he anticipated.