"Sister! How lovely to see you!" a voice cried out jubilantly.

From within the mansion, a tall man approached, his arms spread wide. His face resembled Abby's slightly. His cheeks were a little more gaunt and his face was a little less round. But he had her aquiline nose and her large, expressive eyes. He was dressed like a consumate business man, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit with a matching tie. His black shoes were almost reflective, shining and clean. A pair of diamond cufflinks glittered as they caught sunlight.

Daniel had been confused at Abby's insistence on formal dress. He was no longer confused.

Abby's eyes flicked towards Dan as her brother approached. A smile appeared on her face, oddly wide and unnaturally stiff. She opened her arms slightly, her elbows tucked in to her sides, as if expecting a very formal hug.

"Glad to be here, Jason," Abby replied with all the enthusiasm of a death row inmate.

Her brother reached her with a few smooth steps. His arms closed, and both hands clamped down on the sides of her shoulders. He held her there, at arms length, with a look of relief on his face.

"Thank goodness you're here, Abigail!" he crowed. His eyes roamed somewhere over her head as he spoke, and his head bobbed up and down with each word. "This gathering is a nightmare, as always. Cousin Sarah got into an argument with her sister and is crying in the guest bathroom. Be a dear and talk her out of there, would you? She's acting unseemly."

"I—" Abby started, but Jason continued to speak.

"Also, Uncle Richard has once again found the liquor cabinet. We probably have half an hour or so before he starts to really go downhill, but I think it's best to nip that in the bud don't you? Let's not have another repeat of 2014. I'd hate to have you clean up after him again."

Abby raised a finger. "Jas—"

"This would be so much simpler if Grandmother didn't have such a ridiculous stance on the help. Honestly. Don't tell her I said so, but she's getting old. An attendant or ten is befitting for a woman of her status." Jason shook his head in exasperation.

His eyes at last glanced down to hers, then further along to her dress. He blinked in what was nearly audible surprise. "You look radiant sister!"

Abby's eyes narrowed and the slightest hint of warning entered her tone. "Thanks. I tried."

Her brother coughed lightly into his fist. "Yes, er, quite. Well, I'm very glad you've come, Abigail. We don't see each other nearly enough."

Daniel could see Abby's frosty expression warm a fraction. She nodded slightly, opening her mouth. "You're ri—"

"But unfortunately, I really must be off," Jason interrupted. "We'll catch up later, yes? Remember: Cousin Sarah and Uncle Richard. Take care of that for me, please, as soon as you can. Thank you, Abigail, I'm so glad you're here." He smiled at her then, warm and sincere, before giving her shoulders a firm squeeze and whirling away.

Throughout the entire conversation, he had not even glanced in Dan's direction.

Abby watched him leave, a dozen expressions warring on her face. She glanced once more in Dan's direction, then settled on one of determination.

"Jason!" she called loudly, causing her brother to stop. The man glanced over his shoulder, a puzzled smile on his face.

"Grandmother said to greet her as soon as I arrived," Abby announced. Her shoulders bobbed up and down, a perfect what-can-you-do-? shrug.

Jason's smile grew strained. "Oh."

Abby nodded. A grin, vindictive and true, appeared on her face. "So I should probably go talk to her first, and who knows how long that'll take. You know how she is."

The corners of her brother's mouth crept downwards. "I do."

"I'll find you once we're finished but for now... I suppose you should find someone else to help you manage our family's lives." Abby's voice was light and innocent. Not a hint of sarcasm could be found.

Jason grimaced at her words. He nodded uneasily. "I suppose I should. Grandmother is in her study. Best not to keep her waiting."

"Of course," Abby replied sweetly as her brother disappeared into the mansion. As soon as he was out of sight, she slumped in on herself, breathing heavily. Dan stepped forward, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened for a moment, then leaned into his hug.

"So that's your brother," Dan murmured under his breath. "Bit of a bossy fellow."

Abby chuckled weakly. "Of course. He usually is the boss. He means well, though." She looped her arm around his elbow.

"Yeah?" Dan asked, as she lead them into the foyer of the mansion.

"Dad was big on appearances. Reputation. Acting a certain way at all times. Jason took the lessons very seriously. If someone acts... inappropriately, it's almost an insult to the rest of the family."

"Seems a little overbearing at a private thing like this," Dan pointed out as he admired the scenery.

While the outside of the manor was all imposing angles and hard stone, the inside consisted of smooth wood and warm hues. A crystal chandelier hung from a high ceiling, scattering light across the broad entrance. Broad stairs ran along each wall, leading to a second floor, the steps carved out of gleaming hardwood.

Abby noticed his interest. She tugged at his arm and pulled him towards the stairs. "Come on, I'll give you a tour on the way to grandma's study."

Dan dutifully followed as she lead him to the second floor. She turned left at the top of the staircase, bringing Dan through a winding hallway covered in abstract paintings.

"My mom bought most of these," Abby said wistfully. She ran her hand across a frame as she walked past.

"Grandma has never been big on decorating and grandfather was beyond caring about such things. Momma thought this place was to dreary, so she had a bunch of paintings and sculptures shipped in."

Dan remained silent, merely giving her arm a comforting squeeze. Abby rarely spoke about her parents. There was an old pain there, a bitter wound that had never quite closed. Dan wasn't sure what had caused it. He would learn it when Abby wanted him to, no earlier.

The hallway ended in a library. Grand and sprawling, the same as everything in the mansion, shelves upon shelves of books covered the walls and floor. Dan could get lost in a place like this. Not in a book, but literally. The shelves rose higher than his head and formed an impassable maze.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"This is all grandma's doing," Abby explained, waving a hand at the enormous room. "When she discovered that the Library of Congress was a thing, she wanted one of her own. It's not quite as big, but it's damn close by all accounts."

Abby lead him through the labyrinth with practiced ease. They came to a door in a far corner of the room, tucked away behind layers of books. Small but elaborate designs were carved along its edges, the looping swirls serving as the only accede to style. Abby raised her hand and knocked twice on the door, the loud thunks echoing through the library.

"Come in," a woman's vital voice called out.

The door clicked, and Abby gingerly swung it open to reveal a small study. Small, at least, in comparison to the rest of the mansion. Several shelves filled with books were arrayed around a large hardwood desk. A safe sat in the corner, unhidden. The walls were covered with pictures. Family photos dominated the space, but Dan spotted at least three separate presidents shaking the hand of a grim-faced woman with silver hair.

The same woman currently sat behind the hardwood desk, leafing through a pile of paperwork. Dan hadn't expected her to look quite so... well-preserved. As a woman with multiple grandchildren, she was most likely in her sixties at the very least. The woman in front of him was clearly ancient. Perhaps not Marcus ancient, but her presence was weathered in a way that was immediately obvious.

And yet, her body seemed untouched by time. Her face was smooth, only a few crows feet hinting at her true age. The lines of her face greatly resembled Abby, with smooth cheeks and full lips and a gentle jawline. It was at her eyes where the differences began to show. They were small. Grim and cold. Her brow was angled downward, set in constant disapproval. Her hair lacked the rest of her body's vitality. It was bright silver, a shade of blonde gone sour with age. It trailed down her neck to just above her shoulders, cut short into a bob.

Her face was wrong, thought Dan. Abby's features should not be so cold.

But the woman glanced up as Abby entered the room, and a broad smile emerged on her face. It was odd, unpracticed and gnarled in a way that defied reason, but genuine.

"Abby." The woman had vacated her seat and wrapped Abigail in a hug in the time that it had taken Dan to process her words.

"Hi grandma." Abby's muffled voice came from somewhere around the old woman's shoulder. Dan had to stop himself from taking a step backwards as he realized that the old woman was, in fact, a good two inches taller than him.

Anastasia Summers stepped away from her granddaughter, holding the young woman out at arm's length. Her eyes crinkled at the edges and warmth filled her gaze.

"Let me look at you, child. I haven't seen you in months!"

Abby blushed. "Sorry, Mama Ana. I've been busy."

"Hmm, yes. Too busy to call your beloved grandmother except for when you need a favor?" the elderly matron sternly asked, tilting her head to the side. "I shouldn't have to bribe you to see your own family."

Abby coughed awkwardly, then engaged in the most blatant evasion Dan had ever witnessed. She pointed in his direction. "This is my friend, Daniel Newman!"

"Ah yes. Your friend." Anastasia's eyes slipped past Abby's and met Dan's.

And suddenly the warmth was gone. Dan's heart pounded, his pupils constricted. The world collapsed in on a point of light, as a pair of shining grey orbs stared into his soul. This was no doting grandmother. This was no business magnate. This was no woman at all. She was a predator. A monster of the night that had crept into daylight. A wolf that had stolen the skin of a human and was making only the barest attempt to conceal it. Her eyes fell upon him and he knew, with utter certainty, how vast the gulf between them was.

But Dan had seen some shit by now, so he locked his knees and tightened his bladder, and did his best impression of a post.

And then the moment was over.

The elderly Summers turned away from him with a snort. "Well, he's better than the last boy you brought to me. At least he hasn't fainted yet."

Abby sighed. "Zack was thirteen, grandma."

"And he swooned like a six-year old," Anastasia replied tartly.

Abby seemed at a loss for words.

Her grandmother smiled gently. "Run along now, sweetheart. Go mingle with your family for a while. I'd like to speak to your young friend, just the two of us."

"That's..." Abby seemed to struggle for a reply. Her fingers played nervously with her hair, spinning long locks into a loop.

"That's fine," Dan interjected, striding forward. He placed his hand on Abby's upper back and tried to sound confident. "We'll just be a minute, I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'll find you when we're done."

"I'm not going to eat him, Abigail," her grandmother added wryly. "I just have a few questions I want to ask."

Abby nodded uncertainly, her eyes darting between Dan and her grandmother. She wrapped the older woman in a hug and, after a moment of deliberation, did the same to Daniel. Then she darted out of the room, her face a flaming red. The door slammed closed in her wake.

"Interesting," Anastasia observed.

Then her gaze fell on Dan once more.

He didn't gulp, but only because his throat was suddenly a desert. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Sit," she commanded, indicating a chair in front of her desk. Dan found himself obeying without even considering it.

The elderly matron circled around him and took her own seat. The room was silent, broken only by the ticking of a clock and the shuffling of paper. Anastasia carefully gathered the documents scattered around her desk into a single neat pile, and placed it between them. She steepled her fingers in front of her, and met Dan's eyes. There was no surge of fear this time, but he could feel her judgement.

"Abby has never had many friends," the woman spoke suddenly.

Dan didn't flinch, but it was a close thing.

"I didn't know that," he offered hesitantly.

"It was not easy for her, growing up," Grandma Summers continued. "We moved around often, and some of our... precautions, alienated her from her peers."

"That's very sad," Dan interrupted, carefully toeing the line between friendship and privacy, "but she's never mentioned this to me, so you probably shouldn't either."

The silver-haired woman stared at him almost incredulously. Dan became suddenly aware of who, what, he just interrupted.

But before he could stammer out an apology, Anastasia broke down laughing.

"You didn't even consider letting me finish my story, did you?" she asked between choked breaths. "You didn't even think about— Just, 'Oh Abby might not like this, I better shut the old lady up!'" She dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Dan stood stock still, afraid that movement might break whatever spell she was under.

Anastasia waved her hand in his direction, still laughing. "And your face when you realized it! I never get tired of that expression. That look that screams 'Oh, I am so dead!'"

Her chuckles trailed off and Dan managed a confused smile. "I'm glad I was able to entertain you?"

"Oh yes, you certainly did," the older woman replied with cheer.

Dan nodded agreeably.

"At my age, new experiences are something to be treasured," she continued.

Dan nodded agreeably.

She leaned forward suddenly, her silver hair falling loosely around her eyes. Her voice softened into a sibilant hiss. The words were quiet but crystal clear.

"It was quite refreshing to see that expression on someone that I don't have to kill."

Dan's brain crashed as he heard her speak, but some distant part of him nodded agreeably.

Anastasia watched him curiously, seemingly unperturbed at his lack of a response.

Dan kept a mild smile plastered on his face. He had long ago mastered the art of silent panic.

The old woman finally nodded. "I suppose you'll do for now. Be a good friend to my granddaughter." The "Or else," went unsaid.

"That was always the plan," Dan managed to reply, his voice remarkably even.

"Hmph." The old woman leaned back in her seat. Her predatory demeanour faded away, as if Dan had passed some sort of test, hidden until it was needed again. She picked up the folder on her desk and slipped it into a drawer.

Dan watched as she brought out a different set of documents and started to read, ignoring his presence entirely.

"Um," he tried.

She glanced at him, raising her brow. "You're still here?"

"I don't know the way out of the library," Dan admitted.

The old woman rolled her eyes. "Do you know why, out of all my grandchildren, I favor Abigail the most?"

"Um." Dan, caught off-guard by the sudden change in subject, blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Because she's amazing?"

An embarassed yelp came from somewhere beyond the study door. Grandma Summers gestured sharply and the door swung open, revealing a red-faced Abigail crouched against the opening.

"Because she has a spine," the older woman explained. "Because, when I tell her to leave her only friend to my nonexistent mercies, she will disobey me, even if she lacks the courage to do it to my face." She ended her explanation with a pointed look to Abby.

"That just seems sensible, ma'am," Dan replied, testing his ability to speak to her.

"Hehe, I was just checking the, um, door integrity," her granddaughter offered shamelessly. "I thought I saw a scratch."

The older Summers sighed. "Take your friend and join the party, silly girl. We'll talk again later."

"Right! We'll just be off. Bye Mama Ana," Abby strolled in, caught Dan by the arm, and dragged him out of the room with a jaunty wave.

Dan could hear the Anastasia sigh loudly as the door closed.