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*
    The Watergate Hotel, Washington DC, United States
    To Winter, the fifteen second pause before the senator began to speak felt like a small ice age in length. She didn’t like the sensation of being exposed that standing up on the stage delivered. There were too many lights and too much attention. She had spent her life behind a mask. Now that was gone. It wasn’t just vampires who were about to be exposed today and it was too late to turn back now. The senator had begun his announcement and the room was so silent she fancied she could hear the cameras whirring, even though they were all digital. She could certainly hear the breathing of the journalists in the front row.
    Sebastian leaned toward her just a little bit and murmured, “Relax!”
    It was unfair, she reflected. Sebastian had been hiding from humans for far longer than she had, but he was responding to this with almost giddy delight.
    She swiveled her gaze to the corner of her eye where she could just see Nial standing silently next to her. Sebastian was making up for Nial’s complete lack of reaction. Of all of them, Nial had the most to lose. If there was to be a strong reaction from humans, then it would focus on him, who was the oldest of them all. He had been alive when Rome was the center of the universe. That was something that humans could grasp, while the rest of their fantastic story would most likely be met with complete disbelief. Nial had put Senator Corcoran in front of them for the media to focus upon, to try to add weight to the message.
    So far, judging by the total silence coming from the other side of the room, the disbelief they had anticipated was in full swing.
    Winter breathed. Then took another breath. Then another.
    * * * * *
    Blythe hated taco salad with a passion. She hated the chemicals in the spices, she hated the taco chips and the way they would spear her gums unexpectedly and she hated the way the lettuce wilted and became soggy. Her kids, on the other hand, loved the stuff, so she made it at least once a week, in between meals that were secretly healthy, with their hidden vegetables and dense nutrition.
    “Explain to me one more time,” Simone said as she labored over the cheese grater, “why we can’t just buy the shredded cheese instead of fighting with this stupid thing every time?”
    Simone asked the same question every time they had the meal, so Blythe didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Because the shredded cheese has cellulose in it,” she said, just as Eloise said the same thing.
    “You ask that question every time you do the cheese,” Jake pointed out. He was hunched over Blythe’s laptop, his finger moving over the mouse pad, his eyes glued to the screen. He spoke absently.
    “You say exactly the same thing every time she asks the question, too,” Eloise replied.
    “Then you should do the cheese,” Jake returned, “and we won’t have to repeat ourselves.”
    “Sixty seconds,” Blythe warned as she gave the salad one more toss. “Jake, put the laptop away.” She carried the big bowl over to the table and settled on her usual chair as the twins arranged themselves on either side of her. Jake was on Simone’s left and still staring at the laptop. “Jake.”
    Jake lifted up his hand, his attention on the laptop. “Wait.”
    “I’m hungry,” Eloise complained. “Hurry up.”
    Jake spun the laptop around so that everyone at the table could see the screen. “I think this is major.”
    “That’s Patrick Sauvage,” Eloise said. “I don’t recognize the others.”
    “Kathrine Lindenstream,” Blythe said softly, for she recognized the director from the hysteria surrounding her private life and relationships. Blythe didn’t usually have time for TV watching, but late at night when her brain finally shut down, she would soothe herself into sleep by watching mindless Hollywood reports on the gossip and scandal of the day.
    “That’s Calum Garrett,” Simone said, pointing to the