Part One

Chapter One: The Danvers

It was certainly beautiful, but she had seen that from the pictures James would show her of the home from time to time. Evelyn had always thought it was complete nonsense to show their daughter photographs of a home she would never visit, but he would just smile knowingly at her and wink at the little girl. Thoughts of the dead man stung her and put a sour taste in her mouth as she turned back to the house.

Evelyn was partially correct; she'd never seen it in person, but now she was going to be living there. She glared at the mansion-sized home, but quickly gave in when she realized it wasn't to blame that she never lived there. Her hatred wasn't turned on the house, just the people in it; the Danvers.

Evelyn had told her to come live with them, a command really, and since she was not yet eighteen, she could only comply. Neither of them wanted to live with each other, but it was necessary with the recent past. The woman that gave birth to her offered that the reason had to do with safety issues, but she knew better. James had probably made it his dying wish that she was safe. It would be the only reason that evil woman would ever allow her into their home.

"Well? Are you going to stand there and stare all day, or are you coming in?"

She looked up, and Evelyn was standing on the porch steps, arms crossed over her chest, eyes set in a glare.

"Yes, I'm coming in," she snapped harshly, taking care to hoist her bags higher on her arms and shoulders. They were heavy, being loaded with all her worldly belongings. She stepped up to the porch and stood on the step below Evelyn, but was taller than her and thus looked down on her.

"Look..." the older woman started angrily, but paused and softened her temper marginally. "Gaige, I'm sorry, alright? I know you don't want to be here, but your safety was important to James. This is going to be difficult, for both of us, but we'll manage somehow. Deal?"

Gaige just sneered at the hand Evelyn offered her and side-stepped around the woman. She pushed through the doorway, taking in the beautiful furnishings of the foyer in a sweeping, careless glance. It was neat and tidy, covered in warm shades that did not exemplify the cold-hearted woman that lived within. A butler stepped up to her and took her bags away, presumably to place them in her new room. She watched as he stepped up the stairs lithely, and wondered where in relation to Caleb she would be rooming. Probably not far enough.

"Does he even know I'm here?" Gaige didn't have to acknowledge who he was, Evelyn knew well enough that it would be her son.

She took in a deep, steadying breath that for once didn't reek of alcohol, and replied calmer than before. "Caleb knows I'm having someone coming to stay. He doesn't know about you, or who you are. No need to worry."

Gaige snorted. She never worried about things like that, the perfect son - the one her parents had actually wanted - knowing her secret. She was an abomination; no one could know about her, or her Power. It was the reason Gaige was sent away the day she was born, living in her parent's vacation home with a nanny since birth. James and Evelyn visited her once a month those first years, but once she turned thirteen and received her first taste of the Power the visits came less often. She only saw them once a year, and in recent years her father hadn't been up to traveling, which gave no reason for Evelyn to come either. She hadn't even seen Evelyn in over four years.

"Oh, I won't, you can trust me," her eyes sparkled mischievously as she spoke; obviously, Evelyn couldn't trust her.

"Gaige, do not be callous. You must stay far away from the rest of the Covenant, we can't have anyone so much as suspecting you're a Danvers. I may be able to put up with you living here, but I simply cannot deal with that."

"I'm not a Danvers, Evelyn. I'm just some kid you didn't want. Don't worry, I won't be a nuisance." With that, she left, following the same route the butler had took to a nice bedroom lavished in all her favorite colors.

One look at the room told her it was not of Evelyn's doing. This room was a creation by James, that was for sure. Her father always wished she could live with them, wished she was normal, wished they were normal. But she wasn't, and they weren't either. Banished in secrecy she stayed away, her only knowledge of the town she would've grown up in from the only two people that knew she existed, besides the five regulars of the Danvers vacation home: the nanny, the maid, the butler, the cook, and her tutor. To them, she was a job, few emotional attachments were ever made. Gaige didn't have friends, only seven people in the entire world knew her true identity - who would be a nobody's friend?

She sat on the tall bed, fingering the soft fabric of the purple, down comforter. Her room stood out against the rest of the Danvers mansion, the furnishings more modern the house's antiquated appearance. It was not made of the reds, golds, greens, and browns that made up the warm-looking home; Gaige's room was decorated in black, purple, and blue. It was completely unrecognizable as an attachment to the home, save a picture frame that held her most valued possession.

The butler must have unpacked her things, for the picture she held in her hands had no copy. It was from when she was little, a baby, in her father's arms while a two-year-old Caleb held her tiny baby-fingers. The photo was the only one she'd ever been in, the only proof of her existence ever recorded. Evelyn wasn't in it for obvious reasons, one of which was that even as a baby she had been disgusting to her mother. Evelyn was shocked by the fact she gave birth to a female child. The members of the Covenant had one child each, and one only. It was like the men just stopped producing the right baby-making juices after the firstborn – a son, of course. Gaige was the only Daughter of Ipswich, and no one even knew she was alive.

She sighed and curled up on the bed, all energy or will to move drained from her. The drive here was long, though not unpleasant, but still a six hour drive by yourself was tiring. Gaige fell asleep, in the same position facing away from the door on top of the covers.

The next morning, she woke up still curled on her side and shivering. She showered away her sleep and dressed quickly before descending the stairs for breakfast. Upon exiting her room, she could hear voices from what must be the kitchen. Gaige followed them to a door in the back of the house but froze with her hand on the handle when she heard the topic of conversation.

"So... You've got some chick living with you that you've never met and you don't plan on making a move?" She just rolled her eyes at the typical guy, his voice striking her as a player's. Who else would ask such a question? He was probably a womanizing playboy that used his charm to get what he wanted.

"No, I do not, and neither will you, Reid. She's just a kid, only seventeen." This must have been Caleb. The nineteen-year-old had a deep, grave voice that rumbled with power and responsibility. Plus, well, he replied to the 'living with you' comment. He must have lived at the Danvers home, as well.

Of course he would think she's just a kid, although she was only two years younger than himself. He would think like that. Arrogance probably ran deep within the bloodlines of the Founders' children. He had been raised in the wealth she had not, and had experienced the atmosphere of the wealthy.

"Is she hot?" the original voice, Reid, asked.

"Reid! I don't know, and I don't care! Drop it. Mother said she's fragile right now, she's just experienced a death in her family and we aren't supposed to meddle." Gaige rolled her eyes at Caleb's comment. Yes, James just died last year. Can't he tell she's absolutely heart-broken?

"How does your mother know a teenaged girl, anyways?" a younger, sweeter voice asked, sounding childish and naïve. She could've smiled at the fact that this person was the first to show a bit of intelligence. It was slightly ironic.

"I honestly don't know," Caleb sighed and sounded far older than his years. What had happened to him to cause such aging? Could he be Addicted? She shuddered. "She wouldn't say, so it must not be a big deal. The kid's probably just the daughter of some random person she used to know that died recently. Mother said she would be staying quite a while, though, so I can't be sure."

"That's really weird, man. I don't like it at all," A fourth voice spoke up, so low and growling that it sent shivers down her spine. Gaige could swear she'd heard it before, but couldn't place exactly where. How could she know someone Caleb knew? She didn't know anyone! She ignored the sense of familiarity and listened in harder.

"Yeah. Me, either."

After Caleb's words resounded, an uneasy silence filled the room in which all that could be heard was the clinking of silverware on dishes. She took the opportunity to step back and wait until they'd left the kitchen to go in, but the floor creaked.

Dammit... Gaige swore and cringed internally. Her presence had been revealed. No doubt they were all waiting for her to enter now. She entered the kitchen chin up, ready for the eye-assault of a lifetime.

AN: So? Do you like it? Was it good? I know there are tons of Sisterfics out there, but I'm trying to keep this as least of a cliche as possible. If you're still not sure if this fic is for you, check out chapter eight, or one of the later chapters.

Update: So, I'm pretty sure this fic is only a testament to my writing at its worst and most immature ... But I refuse to delete it. There's some innate fondness in me for it, and I just can't seem to get rid of it. I don't write like this anymore, (I actually don't write much at all) and it can be cheesy and seemingly pointless at times, but it's here to stay. If I ever post the sequel, it will be of much better quality than this.