Good and bad are matters of perception, truly. It's all a matter of context. What may good for me now, in this situation, may very well be horrible in two week's time.

I think what happened this evening was good. Lethe, my ex-husband from more than a decade ago, seemed to think it was. Now, Lethe and I have spoke off-and-on recently (the last year or so). We've gotten over whatever, and, with most of the significant others I've had, I still do hold some measure of love for him in my heart. [The only exception of this would be Joel Alexander, and with good reason.] So, to my surprise, Lethe stopped in the other evening just to chat. What happened, however, was an inquisition about terrible recent events and who was behind them. I told him and became a sobbing wreck as I did so, and he quickly took his leave.

That was yesterday. Today he showed up with a gift box for me. Zillah, Maharet, and Rowane had been there, checking up as they tend to do, and it was a grand time, even when Z kept trying to one-up Adrian Tepes, a friend of the Ravenswick family.

What Lethe gave me wasn't your average, ordinary 'hope you feel better soon!' present. Oh, no, not at all. Lethe gave me Lamia's heart, giftwrapped in a box.

He gave me her heart.

Lamia's heart.

I suppose I'm very grateful, but, honestly, what the fuck am I going to do with Lamia's heart?

The Code of Hammurabi

The Code of Hammurabi is a collection of laws which the ancient peoples of Hammurabi's time followed in order to maintain a semblance of peace in their lands. These are the codes they lived and died by. They're still followed to an extent even to this day.

#14. If any one steal the minor son of another, he shall be put to death.

#23. If a man practices robbery and is not captured, the man who has been robbed shall, in the presence of God, make an itemized statement of his loss, and the city and the governor in whose province and jurisdiction the robber was committed shall compensate him or whatever was lost.

#195. If a son has struck his father, one shall cut off his hands.

#196. If one destroys the eye of a free-born man, his eye one shall take.

#197. If anyone breaks the limb of a free-born man, his limb one shall break.

#200. If he knocks out the teeth of a man who is his equal, his teeth one shall knock out.

#209. If anyone has struck a free-born woman and caused her to let fall what was in her womb, he shall pay ten shekels of silver for what was in her womb.

#210. If that woman dies, one shall put his daughter to death.

There are books written about her. A demoness from the start, left in the hands of Man. That didn't work, obviously, and as Adam urged her to lay beneath him, to submit to him, she uttered the very name of God and rose and left the Paradise of Eden. She wandered for an untold amount of time, laying with other demons, producing spawn. Some say these "children" became the very same succubi and incubi we still encounter to this day. And legend continues to suggest that these descendants are the vampires that stalk the night. I don't know how much truth there is to this, nor does it matter in the end, but the idiom "the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree" does come to mind.

But there are naturally exceptions. My sister, Malia, is an exception. The most vital one in my life, I suppose. She's a witch, she's a dhampir of sorts: Half vampire, half human, entirely spiffy. I will not condemn them all, for I have no right to, or no wish to, but I will stand behind Zillah Grey, to an extent. My goal is to see the destruction of the whore of Eden and nothing more, nothing less. This will happen. The fight has already begun.

Justice will be done. Cave canem.

Nadia had never died before. She'd come close to doing so dozens of times in the past, but she'd never truly died. Her heart hadn't stopped beating, her brain hadn't stopped sending messages to the rest of her body. Those close-calls in the past were just a sort of exploration with her rather large masochistic side. That's what it had to have been, because you don't ask a man to choke you to death then offer to fuck him once he gives you your breath back just for kicks and giggles.

What the witch was feeling now, however, was different than all of those near-misses from before. She ached all over and felt oddly empty. Something important was missing from her as she moved through the darkness. Was it her soul? That didn't make any sense to her, though. She thought harder.

There was a constant blackness, she felt empty, and there was pain. A dull ache that wasn't going away no matter how she moved through the void she'd been thrust into.

She thought. What had happened before she got to the void?

The memory wouldn't come to her. Nothing would come to her, besides an uneasy feeling about the missing part of her.

Maybe this was her soul, she'd decided. This was really her, her mind and soul, drifting through the void, stripped of a body. That made some sense, though it didn't quite explain the pain she was feeling. Nadia didn't like the idea that she was to believe her soul had pain receptors. That contradicted everything she'd learned in life.

In life? So she really was dead? Moris was going to be rather put off by this, she decided as she moved through the darkness. Setheus and Zillah would be, too. They'd have to tell the children what happened. Hopefully someone would know, Nadia decided. She didn't. Maharet would understand the concept of death, if that's what this was. She was old enough. Kendrew would, too, but even though he was only 3 years younger than Maharet, he would recover better, perhaps. Ameera was already an adult, even though she was only six. Zillah had better be gentle when he told her. And then there was the matter of the baby--

....the baby.

Nadia remembered exactly what had happened, and as a flood of images clashed in her mind, she was pulled back to the present. Oh, Goddess, how she ached, how her body was so in pain. She wanted death again, she decided. Nothing had been this horrible before. Shivan had only caused her mild discomfort, a small bout of rug burn, if you will.

"Mor...," she tried. No, that hurt and was exhausting. Moris had been angry with her prior to this anyway, she remembered. Did he know? Was Kendrew still alright? "....Zill...ah?" She should probably try to open her eyes, but, as selfish as it was, she didn't want to.

The witch started to cry and sought out her oblivion again. If ever there was a time for someone to die, let this be it.

It's a curious feeling, having a hellhound back in my life. Sure, it's something that was rather spontaneous and will probably have rather harsh repercussions later, but I'm thinking it's worth it. After a slight argument, and my sub-sequential migration to the Townhouse, it's nice to have someone to talk to. Zillah had, naturally, shown up unexpectedly. He'd practically pounded the door in by the time I was able to waddle my way from the library to the door; for some reason he didn't have his keys on him.

After talking about this and that, much of which was really just him assuring me that what had happened between Moris and myself was a natural reaction and that things would be perfectly fine. I nodded, though I didn't quite agree with him. I still don't, I think. And I didn't keep this quiet for long, either. I showed Z all of the things I'd been studying, showed him the signs I found.

Not to sound cliche, but "something wicked this way comes."

Because of this he offered to stay the night. It took quite a bit of persuading on his part, I'll admit. I'm still not entirely comfortable with him staying, only because of the argument it may bring him in the future. I don't want to be the cause for someone else's relationship issues; I've had enough of my own to know that outside forces aren't needed encouragement. But he's stayed, a loyal hound, protecting me from my own imagination, because at this point, that's the most threatening thing to me.

Zillah finally stopped by the Townhouse, just as Maharet said he was going to. He looks rather well, then again, he also looks like shit. I suppose it has to do with his current situation. I want to help him. I mean, why wouldn't I? Sure, after he helped Moris and I he just.... left me, but still. I look past that because I understand why he did it. I probably would have, too. I also don't think twice about it because of all the other memories we have.

Not those sorts of memories. Zillah and I were never intimate, though I can understand why people would assume as such. "The Mistress and her Hellhound" the would say as we passed, so what else could they think? No, never intimate. He would hold me while I cried against his tee or he would allow me to stroke his hair, his head on my lap. Zillah protected me from so much, including myself at times. For some reason which I cannot understand, he almost always knew what was best for me, even if he didn't like it. In a way, I owe the man.

So when he asks for my assistance, in his own way of asking, of course, I can't say 'no.' I may be a Coven witch, but I'm not that much of a bitch. I'll do as much as I can, all depending on what my current 'situation' allows. I'll help him, yes, but not if what's needed runs the risk harming my unborn child's well-being. This pregnancy is a scientific mystery and I'm sure even Zillah would admit that. We -- I --... Moris and I can't risk losing our child. Something in my gut is telling me we wouldn't be able to duplicate what happened.

The pregnancy is going along swimmingly. I must admit that I do feel rather blessed. Not one easy-going pregnancy, but two? Some women get ridiculously sick and yet here I am, more ambitious than ever. But I'm not complaining because that would just be dumb. I may be a bit slow at times, but I'm not about to complain.

Kendrew's been spending time at his friend Elai's. I'm glad he's made such a close friend while he's off at school. I'd heard a few things about some of the boys there, especially one whose name was 'Myles', I believe. Life is tragic sometimes, yes, but I'm so pleased with how it isn't tragic for Kendrew. Family, friends, and school. It's a delightful change from what's happened in the past.

It all worked out so well. Between Moris and Setheus, my life is so amazingly boring and I don't think I would really have it any other way.

I gave birth to a monster. There is no other way to state what Maharet is. No polite term, no politically correct word can be used to interpret exactly what she is. Though only eleven years old, she's more than a handful. She's a bloodthirsty monster and I fear I won't be able to guide her as a mother should.

We had engaged in a simple post-mother-daughter talk activity. She was excited about what she'd learned recently; an old trick of stone and flame I was once proficient in. So taken by this excitement, I proposed that she show me just how well she'd progressed. Maharet was eager to do this, and so we made our way from the study to the gardens. The area was empty for Basil had already retired for the evening, as had most of the staff. It was just the two of us, three once I'd summoned an illusionary being to assist in this sample. I couldn't do it myself, for I've Addyson in my womb, and I wouldn't risk her for anything in the world.

The risk wouldn't be my decision, it would seem, though. Maharet's bloodlust or rage or whatever it's known as these days overtook her. In a split second, she had felled the being and was upon me. It was difficult, trying to evade her strikes. I was already sore and slow, and to have a child -- my child -- upon me? Thank Goddess I was able to calm her before it was too late. Once I had, she simply stared at me. I raised my voice to her, I couldn't help it. She'd endangered not just her mother's life, but that of her unborn sibling.

And to think that she wanted to return to school. Not just any one, the one whose library she burned to the ground. I can't let her attend an institution such as that when she's a risk. I don't think Joel can help her, either. I'm putting too much faith in this man that I despise, all for my devil child.

Joel didn't get rid of her demon as we all thought. He merely lulled it to sleep.

Little bit of this and that. Never what you'd expect.