To make a choice, either to accept the life he'd given me, such as it was, or eschew Ethan, the House, the community of vampires. I could choose to live as a member of the American Houses, or make a life for myself on the outskirts. But an eternity of watching friends, the world, change around me while I stayed the same, was going to be lonely enough. Watching while Mallory aged, while my grandfather aged, while I looked eternally twenty-seven. What kind of life would it be, to also reject the House, to pretend at being human, and outlive my family, no companions but musty books and medical-grade plastic bags?

Still, I wasn't ready to take that next step. Not yet. There were loose ends to be wrapped up. Well, one major loose end. And that was what put me in the car at four o'clock in the morning, leaving the sanctum of Wicker Park for the neighborhood of vampires.

This time, I wasn't headed for the House. I was headed for the university. And I was a woman on a mission, so when I arrived, I ignored the permit warnings, parking in the first empty on-street spot I could find. I got out of the car, locked it behind me, and walked to the main quad, empty satchel over my shoulder.

I stood at the edge of the quad and stared at the expanse of grass, sidewalks and trees, my hand at my neck. I'd always loved this spot, had usually paused before heading into the Walker Building, which housed the English department, so that I could get a taste of grass and sky. I walked to the spot where I'd been attacked, crouched in the spot where my blood had been shed, and touched a hand to the grass. There was nothing here, no blood, no trampled grass, no indication at all that the few square yards of lawn had been witness to birth, to death. To me. To Ethan.

The tears I thought I'd finished shedding began to fall. I dropped to my knees, knotted fingers in the carpet of grass, wishing that things had gone differently. That I hadn't made the regrettable decision to leave the house, to walk the quad. I sobbed there on my knees, the frustration, the regret, nearly overwhelming.

There was laughter across the lawn. I knuckled away tears, lifted my head. Two students, a couple, walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, before disappearing between buildings. Then the night was quiet again, most of the windows dark, no breeze to stir the trees that dotted the quad.

I closed my eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled. Opened my eyes again. But for the cloak of grief, it was a beautiful night. One of an eternity of nights I'd have the opportunity to see. But in order to see those nights, I'd have to figure out a way to deal with loss, to mourn lives that would end, even as mine continued. A way to deal with my obligations to Cadogan.

A way to deal with Ethan.

I'd have to figure out how to support Mallory, how to keep my relationship with my grandfather in spite of our positions. I'd have to figure out how to tell the good guys from the bad guys in the strange, new world I'd been dropped into.

More important, I'd have to figure out whether I was one of the good guys. Whether Ethan was one of the bad guys.

I realized the means to that end. It had to be a choice. I'd been made a vampire without my consent - attacked and violated, of course, without my consent. The only way I'd be able to move on, to build a new life, to take ownership of my new life, would be to make that conscious decision for myself, for better or worse. To live, or not to live, as an acknowledged vampire.