While Elizabeth was making her escape in a different location, in the city of London, just closer to its outskirts.

A small mansion was engulfed in flames, and a young lad with black hair narrowly escaped getting burned alive, but a few of his family members weren’t so lucky.

He was currently lying flat on his stomach as he ignored the pain of a burned leg and stared a few meters away from him, looking at a lone figure. His eyes were wide open in shock and disbelief.

“Aunty Val, what’s the meaning of this?”

He asked the woman, who had shoulder-length hair, pale skin, and eyes that were cold and icy and almost as if to reflect that coldness, her eyes were a deep, icy blue.

She was a bit shorter than average, and she wore a black sleeveless dress and a biker jacket over it. The woman, Val, had a gasoline tank near her, and she held a match in her hand.

This was his Aunty Val, his father’s sister; she wasn’t blood related to him or his family, but her friendship with his father went so deep that she was practically part of the family. As such, he referred to her as Aunty Val.

He grew up around her and has spent time with her. This is the woman who helped him kill for the first time and taught him how to fight. She was the woman who told him ghost stories as a child, and he was fond of her.

Why does it seem like she’s the one that set one of the family mansions on fire and killed his father and uncles?

“I thought it was time I ended the charade.”

She said it in a monotone voice. She observed the burning house with hardly any hint of emotion, many years she spent here playing with these humans and carefully waiting to end her facade of a friendship with its patriarch.

This should have been her greatest moment, another ending to the head of the family that had slighted her all those centuries ago yet for some reason she derived no satisfaction from it, she hardly felt a thing, like crushing an ant with her boot, it was… disappointing.

She hadn't derived the same sort of catharsis she had when she end the life of the previous head, perhaps it was the method she used, it was too abrupt and rushed.

Looking at the young man before her, she wondered if perhaps it would be beneficial to let him live. Perhaps she would get her satisfaction when she kills him in the future.

She got close to him, and she squatted with her knees closer together so as not to flash the young man. A young 22-year-old has no business seeing the panties of a 200+ year-old woman.

“What do you mean? Is this about that deal we made with the triad? My Pops said you were livid about that, but…”

“Oh, dear Aaron, this is not about that. If he wanted to give a quarter of his territory to the triad, that’s not my problem; I was just playing my part as his ‘friend.’”

She patted his head in a more mocking and condescending way than a way to comfort him, the urge to crush his skull right then and there crossed her mind but she withheld it, exercising a level of restraint expected of her as an ancient Vampire.

“Then what’s this about? Why would you do something like this?”

He asked in desperation, his heart clinging to the hope that his dear Aunt had a reason behind all this, sure his father was dead but surely, there was something that justified it all as reason that would absolve her of any blame.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t willing to share. Although her face showed nothing, the hatred was clear to see in her eyes, but Aaron was not capable of reading individuals just by looking at their eyes.

If he was thinking properly, he would have thought it strange that there were no sirens sounds he could hear right about now, that the neighbours don’t seem to care that there’s a house on fire, or that the fire itself wasn’t producing any smoke.

“Think of it as a generational grudge, something that extends for generations. It’s nothing personal. Well, it is personal, but don’t worry about it.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

She said with dissatisfaction clear in her tone. She then snapped her fingers, and the fire went out immediately, revealing the charred remains of the house she held no feelings for.

Aaron found himself in stock shock and confusion, unable to comprehend what she had just done. This rendered him mute for the moment.

She then snapped her finger again, but this time, nothing happened, or at least that’s what it looked like to the outsider but to those in the know they would have seen the translucent bubble surrounding the mansion, burst.

“If you want revenge, you’re welcome to try, though I suggest you go through your family history before you even think of killing me.”

She advised. It was a guaranteed certainty that the young man would indeed seek revenge for what she had done, so next time when they meet, he’ll be far less likely to want to talk. He'll be more powerful, something worth playing with and something worth her vengeance.

Without warning or reason, her figure quickly disappeared, leaving the young James Aaron Theed in a state of confusion and surprise.

His dad was burned alive along with his uncles, if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the work of someone he trusted and loved as family he would have cared about the fact his uncles are dead as it meant he’d be next in line to take over the family business.

Unfortunately, he can’t be happy about it, his dad was among those who died, and no matter how much he wanted, the seat of family head killing his own father for it never crossed his mind.

Looking at the burnt house, he could only stare at it as the wind blew away any loose ashes. Aaron was, for the most part, confused, and he understood nothing. Despite her obvious confession, he still needed her to explain more, maybe he would understand if she had more time to explain. It was obvious that someone put her up to this.

…..

“Aunty Val” appeared once again but this time it was on top of the giant clock, Big Ben that was in London, she looked over the shining city lights, and hearing cars honking about an accident here or there, there was a sense of disappointment in her.

“I may have rushed it a bit there.”

She sighed, looking over the London skyline. The bright city lights illuminated the sky and contrasted beautifully with the darkness of the night above.

The sounds of cars honking, along with faint murmurs of the people below despite it being night, the city was alive, and the humans walked with barely any fear of anything aside from other criminal humans.

She did not want Jason Eren Theed to die like that, she wanted to saviour his death watch him die like she watched his father die and the same way she watched his father's father and all the others before them.

“I suppose Aaron will suffice.”

She murmured to herself, deciding to not think about her disappointing day and move on to other matters.

"Hmm."

She hummed in silent thought. Since He'll be waking up soon, she needs to prepare a bit before he does. Maybe the excitement of him finally waking up caused her to speed up her plan.

She wanted more suffering from that family, but it was fine. With Aaron she’ll have a toy to play with for a while. However, for the time being, she needed to look her best before meeting him

“His sense of fashion will be 200 years old, so what dress should I wear? Or should I stick with modern clothing? Hmm”

He had begun his slumber right near the end of the industrial revolution as such his taste in clothes will most likely reflect that time, seeing something familiar would most likely be a welcome surprise for him however showing him something new and striking would serve to introduce him to this era’s fashion styles.

As she was contemplating her clothing deeply thinking of which style would capture and stun the eyes of her husband, her thoughts were interrupted by the suddenness of a telepathic message.

“Elizabeth?! What do you want?”

She asked without a hint of surprise or worry, her face maintaining its stoic expression, it’s been years since the two of them had spoken yet there was not a hint of emotion in her voice when she received the message, this was of course a given, as vampires who never aged time was completely irrelevant to them.

There was also the fact that though they may be sister wives, they are not the best of friends.

< Really? No, how are you, or how are you doing?’

Eli asked in faux curiosity. This was simply a tactic of hers to begin the conversation and lead it towards the direction she wants.

“You’re the one who contacted me, so you should be asking me those questions>

She responded in a monotone, among the three of them, Elizabeth was always the more talkative. With Valerie being more comfortable in silence, she did not want to speak more than necessary.

This was not because she was introverted, it was because she found that some people are not worth speaking to, Elizabeth was one of those people but unfortunately due to their relationship Valerie has been often forced to have to talk to her.

Stepping off the giant clock, she then gently began to descend towards the ground, not caring about anyone who might see her or, rather, it was in hopes that someone might see her.

Elizabeth asked. Of course, she was not interested in how Valerie was or how she had been.

The monotone in which she delivered the question spoke volumes about her disinterest.

“no”

She answered curtly, a rather cold response toward someone who is more than an acquaintance or perhaps it was because Elizabeth was more than an acquaintance to Valarie and because of this she was aware of her roundabout ways of asking for things.