She slammed her fist into the punching bag and pulled back. Her knuckles left a spray of red on the fabric of the bag, which was smeared with more red as she punched it again, and again. She hadn?t taped her knuckles up before she started abusing the punching bag and she couldn?t recollect how many times she had punched it, alternating between fists now and then when she remembered to. She didn?t register the pain in her hands with each blow, or the blood slowly streaming down her arms from her knuckles.

To top it off, she was muttering to herself like a madwoman the entire time; fortunately, it was all in Elvish, and not the sort of words Amanda was learning at school, because it was far from appropriate.

She had woken up with a fairly bad hangover?luckily, it wasn?t from the fae spirits just the half of bottle of tequila she had drank first?after possibly one of the best nights of sex in her life. Fae spirits didn?t give her hangovers but they always made her incredibly amorous.

While still under their influence, they made her forget most of what came before she started drinking.

She had spent an absolute glorious night with Skyler instead of mourning for her niece, as she should have been. Waking up to that realization and remembering why she had started drinking in the first place had made her sicker?absolutely disgusted with herself?than any amount of alcohol ever could.

She continued to pound the punching bag relentlessly with her fits, seeing her own face in place of the little ?x? she had taped on it a while back. In her mind, she was breaking her own nose over and over again. It made her feel a little better, not much, but a little.

Every single event from the previous day was crystal clear now: Mu telling her about Lucy dying, coming home and crying her eyes out, going to the Inn with the intent of getting very drunk (drunk enough to sleep without nightmares), drinking enough tequila to drown herself in, her conversation with Tara, the faerie wine to help her forget, leaving with Skyler. It was the conversation with Tara that she continually went back to, thinking over some of the things she had said, things she wouldn?t have ever mentioned?probably even to her best friend?under most circumstances.

Lucy?s death wasn?t just upsetting because Lucy was gone?it was the very presence of Death in her life that absolutely terrified her. He was staring her in the eye, threatening to take away everyone she loved just like in her dreams. That one particular dream from just a few nights ago came to mind and she almost screamed in frustration as she punched the bag as hard as she could.

She finally had to stop after that, panting with tears welling in her eyes again.

What was the point of loving anyone, she had asked Tara, of getting close to anyone, when they were just going to leave you as you continued to live on and on.

Amanda didn?t know it, but her mother often thought of her as her own personal guardian angel although she didn?t actually believe in the existence of such creatures (at least not in the particular way that humans tended to portray them). Amanda would never think of herself in that context and it was therefore ironic that she was watching on as her mother brought out all her frustration, anger, and hurt on the punching bag. Jewell would have usually been aware of her eldest daughter?s presence, but Amanda was fairly sure she had gone on without detection for some time now because of her mother?s extreme concentration on what she was doing as well as her tumultuous emotional state.

So Amanda watched on, becoming concerned and understanding about half the Elvish curses her mother used; she did go to a school with many of the kindred, after all. She vaguely understood the source of her mother?s current distress. When she had seen Jewell marching with purpose towards the workout room she had known to query after what was wrong?her mother couldn?t mask all her emotions from someone who had lived with her for so long. She had received the simple answer that her cousin Lucy was dead before Jewell had dismissed her presence. Amanda did not know her cousin at all, had only heard about her through her mother and uncle; she did know, however, that she was dear to her mother and therefore her loss was notable.

The young girl did not follow after her mother immediately, had only become concerned when Jewell had not left the workout room for over a half hour. She had inched towards the workout room, doing the best to try and mask her presences magically from her mother. The door opened silently for her; it was a skill she had learned from her mother that had come in handy at school when playing tricks on some of the boys.

Amanda watched on and frowned as her mother?s relentless attacks on the punching bag did not end. There was probably no danger in the whole affair; Jewell was probably just releasing some pent up emotions. However, given her mother?s disposition for the last week?dour, depressed, sensitive?the current display of her mother losing herself to her emotions made the young girl nervous.

She stepped away from the workout room and started a search of the house for one she usually avoided at all costs. It was still fairly early in the morning and Skyler may still be asleep; Amanda really didn?t care. She started a room-by-room search for her mother?s beau.