The Bedroom of Blade Perpetua Dangerous, New York City, January 1992 AD.

"When you looked through my room that day, before I walked in and you shot me, I heard everything you said," Robert told Blade, exhaling in rings. He watched Blade; she blinked quickly. "Why'd you really do it? The gun's in the bedroom, why don't you try it again?"

"I thought that it would be good...." Blade said softly trailing off to a near soundless whisper. She swallowed. "What is it you want here?"

He thought she sounded desperate. "Am I making you nervous? You?" he asked. Robert stood slowly, keeping his eyes on her as he did. She looked nervous, forearms gathered up across her bare chest. He believed this was some alternative fashion statement: well-worn straight-legged jeans, plaid flannel shirt, Converse All-Stars looking small and adorable on her feet. But Blade couldn't help but put that red bustier on under the shirt, couldn't help leaving the shirt open.

She was nervous. She tried so hard to be something good, something strong...and it seemed she was doing this to prove something. But Blade was just a young woman who had been taken care of her whole life. She had absolutely no idea how to deal with what was presenting itself as a new truth.

"Shall we go in the bedroom?" Robert asked.

Blade didn't move.

Robert went to the bedroom door, pushed it open till he could see into the room. Dark, and more cluttered than the living room was; she always called people in to clean when she was expecting company, and Robert smiled, knowing this meant she hadn't ever planned on letting Steven stay. And when he looked back at her, he saw that she understood that he knew this secret. And when he smiled, he thought that she just half understood that if he had been in her place he would have let Steven stay. Slowly, she came after him.

Robert sloughed of his jacket, pulled off a baggy black sweater and let both drop to the floor. "Well, it's not cold in here," he said. Blade didn't laugh. Louis would have laughed. It was sort of a joke with Louis to say when something was not instead of just saying what it was. Robert sat on Blade's unmade bed. She sat on the edge of her night table, heels on the floor, one hand hanging between her legs. The bed was a canopy, metal-framed and probably supposed to look like it was iron. The bits of translucent drapery at the posts were red; she seemed to like the color a lot.

Robert fell back till half his weight was supported by a forearm. "You got an ashtray?" He asked.

Blade reached blindly behind her and picked up what was a nice looking crystal ashtray with gold trim at the edge, but when Robert took it from her, they both noticed there was an old, knotted condom in the tray, dry and sticky looking. Robert wrinkled his nose as he flicked ashes onto it. He heard Blade sigh.

Her eyes rolled heavenward.

"Do you require all this clutter to make it possible for you to look put together all the time?"

"OK, I'm not very neat," she said.

They laughed. She was more at ease in the bedroom; perhaps it was that being in her bedroom with someone looking a young man was familiar. She was very used to having others flattered by her presence, being that she was a supermodel. She felt she had an advantage. Robert let her keep the illusion; he recognized it as that. He was, himself, quite used to others being awed by his presence.

"Are you really a vampire or are you just one of those Gothic kids?" Blade asked.

Robert laughed, "OK, you've solved it all, I'm just one of those Gothic kids who scared Steven with a few tricks."

Blade made a grimace and nodded her head, "Who just happened to live after being shot five times at point blank range and whose blood the Feds are just really interested in."

"I am sorta one of those kids though," Robert said.

"Yeah, I gathered from the music collection."

"Art school shit, right?"

Blade shrugged. "I never went to college, John was in school when I met him, for performing arts though, he liked that new wave stuff, ya know? I used to listen to Joy Division actually, but I grew out of it. Everything he listens to now is just a little bit too disco, if you ask me, he didn't like disco the first time it came around."

"They played it in all the clubs."

Her face quizzed.

"I like all kinds."

"Of music?"

Robert shrugged.

Blade reached between her legs and pulled that same gun from the drawer. She hefted it in one hand, as if gauging its weight. She glanced at Robert, pointed the barrel of the gun at him. He didn't flinch. Blade didn't flinch.

She put the gun down behind her.

Their eyes met again. Blade's eyebrows rose slightly. They were not there to kill each other.

Blade twisted till she sat on the corner of the night table, lay one foot up on the bed. "I'm sorry I had to shoot you, I guess...but if you do anything-"

Robert shook his head. "Nothing I'm not asked to do," he said. He ground the cigarette out in the ashtray and pushed it toward the pillows.

Blade was looking at him, just sitting there looking. He had an old Bauhaus T-shirt on; the ankh lay on the bed, the chain around his neck. "I'm gonna put some music on," she said. She got up and went to her stereo. She had one of those CD players with a cartridge that held the five CDs. Whatever was already loaded began to play. Robert knew the album because Louis owned it: Nine Inch Nails, Pretty Hate Machine. Blade seemed surprised herself that it was in there, wrinkled her brow slightly.

She sat down on the side of the bed.

They stared.

"C'mere," Robert said and reached for her even as he said it. His hand found her hip. For a little while Blade remained still, her breath coming quicker than before. She touched Robert's arm.

"This music, it's unnerving."

"Louis worships the guy who makes it," Robert said.

Blade moved Robert's hand from her hip, but then sat and untied her shoes. She untied Robert's Doc's for him, as she kicked off her own shoes. Robert kicked his boots off.

Blade moved the ashtray away and lay close to Robert's side, keeping herself propped up on one elbow, almost as if afraid to lie lower than him on the bed. She touched her other hand to the ankh that lay between them. Robert exhaled, just as the heel of his palm pressed against her hipbone. Blade looked up slowly, smiling.

"What?" Robert asked.

She shook her head, "I thought vampires were supposed to smell different."

Robert kissed her quickly; moved his hand up her side as he withdrew. They kissed some more; Robert's fanged teeth against her lips. Robert let his head fall lower than her's, and Blade passed the tip of her tongue up over one fang and then the other. She had no way of knowing how good that felt, how it made him want her.

It was all happening so easily. Robert pushed Blade's shirt from her shoulder, then let his shoulder fall against the mattress. Blade glanced up, quickly, then unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and took it off. She lay over Robert, fingers splayed as she moved her hand down the front of his shirt. She bowed at the neck and kissed him, as she undid the buttons on his fly. She pulled the bottom of his shirt up over his ribs.

Robert's hand pressed against her shoulder then. She shifted, and he used the space to pull his shirt over his head. For the first time, Blade lay lower than he did, she held his eyes with her gaze. She looked like she didn't want to be trapped by him and so he lay only half over her, his weight on an elbow as the other hand moved over her bare shoulder and then behind her. Robert's knee parted her legs as they kissed.

The first time his lips left her mouth to touch her throat she tensed. Robert pressed his brow to her breastbone and undid several buttons on the fly of her jeans. His thumb probed her navel for an instant, and then all his hand moved up the tight lace of the bustier. He kissed her again at the mouth.

The second time Robert kissed her throat Blade moved one hand into his hair and led him down the side of her neck. Robert let a little more weight rest on her; she didn't seem frightened. She called to him, and when he moved up, she reached for his throat.

A moment later, as she bit at his neck, she took hold of one of his legs with her own, and flipped Robert onto his back. Blade wriggled out of her jeans then, and sat atop him, the panties plain cotton but red as the bustier. Robert's teeth ached as he looked up at her. Blade had a rare figure, the waist deceptively small between the hips and breasts, and muscles well developed over the length of her body.

She bent down over him and bit at his left nipple, pinched the other between two fingers. She rolled again, beckoned Robert to lie over her with a wave of one hand then wrapped her legs around him. He moaned thinking that Ariella had always done he same thing. "I wish that you could fuck me," Blade said.

"OK."

Her blue eyes widened and seemed to darken.

"You think you're living in a Yarbro novel maybe?" Robert asked.

Blade didn't laugh - didn't seem to know who Chelsea Quinn Yarbro was - but Robert thought the situation so funny.

"Sorry," he whispered quickly and pouted to let her pull at his bottom lip with her teeth. She grabbed each of his arms in a hand and stared up at him. He moved his eyes over her face quickly then shook his head slowly. "No nasty li'l vampire fetuses tearing at your inside's either, Honey."

Her eyes closed, hands slipped to his back. "You always call people Honey?" She asked face twisting a little, and her thighs squeezing against his legs.

"Only since moving to America," He spoke into her mouth. "Didn't think women like you liked Baby."

"Damn, you aren't feeling anything are you?" Blade asked.

He wanted her, but it was different. "Not in the way that you are."

She definitely wanted him though. Robert felt good, couldn't remember when he'd ever had a Human lover that knew he was a Vampyre. It made him happy feeling her body straining against him. Blade's right hand strayed under his jeans and slipped all the way down to his thigh. He felt it, but his body wouldn't make any involuntary response. Her eyes opened. "I don't mind Baby, my brother calls me Baby," she said.

Blade pushed hard against Robert's chest and sat up.

"Baby," said Robert, kissed her.

Blade looked down, pulled hard either side of the fly. The remaining buttons popped out of their holes and she reached into Robert's pants. She drew out his penis then, sat looking at it. He knew this look; she would be wondering why he was cut, if he were so ancient. She didn't ask.

Blade closed her eyes a moment. "Take your pants off," she said then, and scrambled to the night table. She shuffled the drawer's contents, drew out a single condom and unwrapped it right away. When she turned. Robert was sitting at the side of the bed facing her, naked, his penis erect. Blade stepped close and kissed him. She looked down then to roll the condom on.

Robert reached behind her back to loose the bustier. Blade pushed the panties down herself, then stepped out of them. She stood before the bed then, Robert sucking at her breasts in turn. "This music," she said slowly, "I think I must be going crazy."

"Baby," Robert whispered leaving light smears of blood on her chest. When she felt the fangs touch her breast, the nipples both went hard. "I want you," Robert said.

Blade lifted one knee onto the bed. Robert's erection moved down her stomach as she did, settled just touching her pubic hair, as pale and blonde as all the rest of her hair. She inched her hips forward, latex gliding across her skin.

"You are not cold!" Robert said. The flat of his teeth pressed against her throat as he kissed her. He could be amused, want the blood badly and laugh to distract himself. But Blade couldn't, it was all very serious to her, even if it were also casual, and all sexual.

She clenched her teeth, put weight on Robert's shoulders and lifted her other knee to the bed. She was sitting in his lap then. She pressed herself down on him; moved back up, quickly, as Robert's lips kissed the soft place beneath her jaw.

"Does it hurt?" Blade asked, "If you took blood from me, would it hurt?"

"Yeah," he said, his hands closing around her waist.

"It won't fuck me up or anything?"

"No...you stay just the same."

Blade tore at Robert's mouth in a heated kiss. Robert lifted her by the waist; Blade was unconnected, moved through the air. He lay her down on the bed, pushed her knees toward her hips. He crawled to her, sat back on his heels, and drew Blade up over his thighs.

Blade sat in Robert's lap again, his hands circled around her waist. She bit at his neck as he entered her. She rocked her hips into his, and then again...as if with the rhythm of the the weird, industrial music was giving her, like slow fluttering breaths that kept getting faster.

"Ssssh," Robert said, though Blade hadn't said anything. "It's all right, it's what you wanted," he said.

She nodded her head.

Slow machinery. Blade's head fell backward; Robert's fangs were on her throat. "You," she said.

"Can I cut?"

"Yeah."

Robert's fang pierced her neck. "Oh God," she screamed.

Tears leaked from Blade's eyes. The music changed, became faster, chaotic. Her arms closed on Robert's hair, hugged him close to her bleeding neck as her weight fell back toward the surface of her bed.

"Turn the music off," she said, "Oh God! Just shut it off."

And the music stopped.

The room was silent; Blade lying back and Robert licking at her neck.

"I feel weird."

"It was good though," Robert said plainly.

Blade looked up, perhaps seeing something on the ceiling. She wiped at her eyes. "The light," she said.

"You've been tasting my blood in kisses."

"Is this tripping?" Blade asked.

"I don't know," Robert said. He could not quite see what she was seeing.

Blade pulled Robert down against her and held him tightly.

He licked quickly at her lips. "It's OK, it won't last. It's better if you try thinking of things as being funny, or pretty. Don't be scared."

"Did your blood make the music scare me?"

"I don't know."

Blade released her hold on Robert. He sat up. Only then did he think to snatch the condom up. He popped it in his mouth and sucked the blood from it. Blade frowned. "That's safe."

"For me." Robert drew a knee up against his chest. He smiled looking at her.

"You look young..." Blade said.

"How old are you?"

"24, 25 in June."

"I was 27...."

"Your eyes look wet...shiny...like if I bit one open...." Blade held her fingers over her mouth.

"What would they taste like?"

Blade's eyes grew wide. "I don't know, like tears." She looked at his eyes again. Blade shook her head violently.

"Think of something funny."

Blade giggled. "You're eating dinner with the Corinthian and an eyeball rolls across the table and you say...." Blade's hands went to her stomach. She didn't seem able to finish talking, she was laughing so hard.

"Don't roll your eyes at me?" Robert asked. "Don't play with your food?"

It only made Blade laugh harder.

"Kiss me again," she said finally.

Robert didn't ask if she meant this, didn't question her judgement. He crawled over her and kissed her. "I could do this forever," Blade said quickly, and then bit at Robert's tongue as it came to her.

Forever?

Blade pushed Robert gently from her. "There's something strange about you."

"No shit."

"I mean it. I feel strange with you here. It's like I'm fifteen again, or something...but it feels good in a way. But I just don't get it, why'd you come here?"

"This," Robert said. "You and I here like this," and then, "yes, quite serious," he said before she asked the question.

Blade said nothing.

"I'd never done that with anyone like you knowing what I was, " Robert confessed quickly. He smiled darkly and pressed his lips to her belly. He was content then to lay and kiss her chest and stomach, and Blade was contented with allowing it. She wound her fingers into Robert's hair, led him in a new direction every so often and made a sound like a giggle, but sexier.

Something made Robert stop. It was like hearing something, but this sense had nothing to do with the ears. There was another sense that picked up on energy that came to you in a very different sort of wave. "John," he said.

Blade was unmoved. She was starring at the ceiling.

"He'll come in here."

She seemed to make a shrug. Robert slipped his pants on and went back to kissing Blade. He could hear John moving about the living room. The jangle of keys.

"Blade?" John called.

Robert looked down at Blade. "He knows you're here."

John knocked at the door, "Baby, you home?"

"John?" Blade asked suddenly.

The door opened.

Robert glanced up and met John's eyes before kissing Blade's breast. He looked up again, raised his eyebrows. John didn't seem to recognize him. He almost left.

But then he saw the blood smeared about their chests and mouths. "Blade!" He yelled. He pulled a gun from the back of his pants. New Yorkers, thought Robert. "Thought I was done with this when I moved away from California!" He had the gun aimed steadily at Robert's head.

"She's not hurt," Robert said.

"Blade!" John was bluffing. He wasn't going to shoot.

"I let him to do it, John," Blade said. She pushed herself up.

John kept the gun on Robert as he darted forward. He picked up a robe from the floor and threw it at Blade. "He's got you in thrall!"

"Jesus, John! Was I the only person in the world who did not believe in vampires?"

"C'mon, get out of the bed."

Blade looked at John and laughed. "You believed and said nothing?" She demanded. Blade stood up and shoved her arms into the sleeves of the robe. John grabbed at her sleeve. She jerked her hand away. "I did ask him to do it!"

Robert just lay smiling.

John looked disgusted. "You're not thinking straight." He looked at Robert as he said this though he was speaking to Blade.

She threw up her hands and yelled at him. "Not thinking straight? Not thinking straight? Since when has this bothered you? You're crazy girl, you're fucking crazy, but let me help you, and while we're at it, let's tell Mandy what we're doing, 'cause I have to tell him everything, or else he makes me feel guilty and miserable. Right? And you knew the world was even more fucked up than I thought it was, but you didn't tell me! Why didn't I know? Why didn't I? Why am I so fucking messed up right now?"

John lowered the gun. He bowed his head trying to make Blade look him in the eyes. "Blade, stop, you really aren't very together right now. It's the blood, Baby. The blood makes you see things. Let's just walk out the door, C'mon," she wasn't moving, "Blade, this is the man you killed!"

Blade started crying. John tried to put an arm around her but she shook him off. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Baby."

"He's not a man and I didn't kill him," Blade whispered, "just go, let me be, if I get hurt it's my fault, it's not your fault."

"Trust me, it'll be better if you leave with me."

"Trust you? Where are we going? Mandy's? Because he'll know what to do, he fucking thinks he's a vampire."

"Baby, listen to me, listen...are you listening to me...are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"OK, you're not crazy, you're not crazy, your new boyfriend is a vampire, he doesn't just think he's one like Mandy does, he is one, now you ask him right now, will he watch you age and die?"

Blade looked back at Robert. He sat up on the bed looking at John, quite calmly.

"Ask him if he'll just let you live. He won't, he's got to make you like him or kill you. He won't be able to watch you live the way he can't, not if you want to be his lover."

"How old are you John, 29? Used to live in California...in the eighties this was? You didn't happen to live in San Francisco now did you? Because I wonder what makes you think you know all about me?"

"One of you - some vampire bitch - killed a girlfriend of mine and made it look like she'd committed suicide! That is never a solution, and she knew that! You don't know what it did to her family! They'd accepted her, and then she was gone!" He sneered, "Or maybe you do know. You just can't let them live!"

"Small world, huh, John, I'm afraid I do know that Vampyre, possessive to the end, just like her father - Angels have mercy on his soul. Just let Blade be, she can take care of herself just fine. Her gun's right there on the nightstand should she want to shoot me and get it right."

John took a step backward toward the door. He whispered Blade's name, she looked up and met his gaze, shook her head then. John left them.

Robert looked about the floor, saw what he wanted. He picked up a plain white T-shirt that belonged to Blade and pulled it on. He moved to the other side of the bed and picked up her flannel. He tucked the tails of both into his own black jeans then pulled the ends up just slightly more at the back than the front. He took a belt from Blade's closet and threaded it through the loops.

Blade looked at him then. She didn't say anything till she saw him looking into the mirror above her dressing table shaking out his hair. He hadn't quite grown dreads, but his hair was now trained to clump into slightly twisted locks, a couple long locks fell over his right eye. He pulled the ankh from under the shirt.

"Where are you going?" Blade asked.

"Out, you feel like getting out?"

Blade sat on the floor. She hugged her knees. "I don't feel pretty."

"Then get pretty," Robert said. "I think we'll go to one of those dance clubs where you like to pick up boys."

Blade stood slowly. She bit at her lip as she watched Robert. He'd sat at he table and was looking through her clutter of make-up, it seemed like he meant to wear some. Blade pulled a simple black dress from her closet. She looked about the floor, then spotted a pair of nylon stockings hanging from the canopy and went to pull these down. She was going to go into her bathroom, but she paused in her turn.

Robert looked at her, eyeliner in hand.

Her robe was open and Blade was looking down at her body, touching her stomach lightly. A shiver went through her.

"It's OK. It washes off," Robert said.

Robert drew on his eyes as Blade washed and dressed. She came from the bathroom in a little black dress, hair neatly slicked back, small nick below one knee. She walked to the dressing table and opened a drawer in search of something. Robert lifted her leg and licked the bead of blood from her smooth leg. "Oh, don't, I'll want to get back in bed," she moaned.

Robert said nothing. But he thought that if he were to turn her it would be better her legs were smoothly shaved for eternity. They were such lovely long legs.

Blade pulled a garter belt from the drawer and stood putting on her stockings. She had a nice pair of fourteen-hole Doc's that went to her knees, and a leather MC jacket. When she was dressed, she came back to the dressing table again, where Robert was sitting astride the bench, and sat down so that each of her legs was lying over one of his. She looked into her little lighted mirror. "Stuff still looks weird to me, see if you can do my face," she said.

"Yeah, OK, pick out the stuff you usually wear though," Robert said.

Blade looked across the top of the table. "You moved everything, it was all right here."

Robert just shook his head. Blade handed him a small bottle of liquid make-up. He asked if she had one of those contracts. "I don't get many of the head shots, mostly magazine fashion layouts and the big runway shows."

Robert was blending make-up into her cheek. "Done this before?" She asked.

"Uh huh. Used to help Louis paint his face when he was going out, he's much more...avante guarde than I am. He experiments with everything."

Blade handed him a brown eyebrow pencil.

"Oh, well you seem pretty...liberal. Bisexual, Black vampire?"

"Well...yes. I didn't grow up in America; the idea of labeling myself in some ways is strange. Especially 'bisexual'. No one used to care if you had sex with men and women; that was normal. They only cared about the...aesthetics of it. Why are two bearded men with each other instead of each with pretty youths? How do they know which should give and receive? Why have they not married in order to beget heirs?" He laughed, "But even men went about saying they were each other's husbands, the worst that happened was people thought it gauche, and didn't vote them into local political office."

"Christ, how old are you?"

"Quite old." Robert picked up the dark red lipstick, puckered his lips at Blade so she would do the same. "People today think it's very...hip to be tolerant...but, with some notable exceptions - as a woman, you know - the differences they tolerate are deviations only viewed against the rather Puritanical and Victorian-influenced norm. Yes? You have homosexual citizens beginning to ask for the right to marry, as if that is the measure of love or fidelity. It was a social contract between families to secure inheritance and property rights."

Blade picked up a wrinkled tissue and blotted her lips. "But you were married."

"I was. There was love, but the marriage itself was a sham to free her from her parents' household." Robert looked downward, "When I became like this, I tried hiding it from her, I was stupid and afraid, and when she found out, it turned her against me, because she knew that I had broken our trust. She took her life. Maybe that's why I've taken to letting myself into people's houses and telling them shocking stories lately. I do not want to hide."

Blade laughed. "You want to come out and be accepted for who and what you are."

Robert saw her point. "Yes. True. It started out as a game: Let's Drive Steven Mad. But I liked that he knew. I like that you know. I suppose, I didn't much like being in the closet."

Blade laughed, giddily. And then stopped abruptly and was silent for several seconds. "But, what John said....Doesn't it hurt you to see people you love age and die?"

"Yes, but I haven't often been in love and also had to watch them age. I haven't let myself have friends, let alone lovers. I do sometimes tell myself I should have loved Louis enough to watch him live and age. In a way, what John said was true; we do tend to keep those to whom we're attached to with us. It's when they don't want to stay that we're tempted to kill them. But in any case, I'm glad I do have Louis around, so I've no shame about admitting that I robbed him of a Human lifetime."

"And what about me?"

"I don't know, yet."

She was nervous again, obvious from her scent and movements. Robert watched as she got up from the bench, walked to the bedroom door with her arms about her waist.

Robert stood then. "You seem to thrive on being...liberal," he said.

"Suits me."

"It seems rebellious."

"What does that matter? If I rebel against something that's wrong, then that's good."

"You disagree with some laws, yet you also fight crimes committed against Human laws. You rebel against your parents."

"Well, why shouldn't I? My father's an asshole. If I call home right now, my brother will be grounded, and he's 20!"

Robert smiled. "It is only curious that good is what you judge it to be. Do you you believe in a heavenly father?"

"Sure, God...I used to be Catholic."

Robert nodded, "God isn't just Catholic, but...what if Humans rebelled against God, if they did things that spited God and took pleasure in it?"

Blade seemed to study Robert very closely, as if trying with her limited Human abilities to sense his thoughts. "Utter anarchy? A Flood? No more excuses for holy wars?"

"Would it be good?"

Blade shrugged, "I guess you have to know what God wants before you decide whether to rebel against him or not, and most of the Commandments - in most religions - are basically good. It's just a lot of messed up stuff gets done in God's name."

"So, you, ultimately, judge which rules are OK to follow?"

"I guess. Don't we all? Why should I do what someone tells me just because they tell me?"

Robert chuckled. "Faith. Trust. Respect. Wisdom enough to know you do not know all. A willingness to change the rules rather than disregard them at leisure."

~~~~

Blade drove to the club in SoHo, which she chose, being it was trendy and open that night. She owned a Lotus Esprit, red of course. And with the couture she wore to everyday places, Robert wondered if owning this exotic car meant that models earned a lot more than he imagined, or she had some family money backing up her income.

Of course the music inside the club was very Disco, because at the time the retro thing was really starting to go from sixties retro to seventies retro, and in places like dance clubs Disco had never really gone all the way out of fashion; they'd just changed it's name to House in some places. Getting in was no trouble, being Blade was famous, more so that her face was immediately recognizable. It was very crowded and it was very hot.

"It is not cold in here," Blade said.

Robert laughed.

"Do you dance?"

"Of course," Robert said.

Blade seemed to look him up and down; she looked out onto the dance floor then. Admittedly the sort of dancing done on the floor was not hard, it required no real knowledge of dance, only that you have a little rhythm, and that you keep moving. And every so often someone would show off, room would be made for them, and you'd see some new form of body contortion.

Their jackets were checked and Blade and Robert snaked through the crowd onto the dance floor. It must have seemed to Blade that Robert was just as playful and interested in getting close to her body as any Human young man might be. He danced like they did.

Blade took the flannel shirt off him and tied it about his hips. Her hands could feel his body more easily then. He was a bit thinner than most of the guys she'd see, but when you thought of all the other ways he was different this was inconsequential.

Every so often, she'd look up or over her shoulder into his eyes and get lost a moment. Of course millions and millions of other people in the world have black eyes, but to have such completely black eyes made preternaturally luminescent by Vampyre blood was rare; the Asbeelian bloodline dominated in Asia, and their eyes turned pink when they got the blood.

"Get me a drink," Blade said. Robert didn't really hear her, but he knew what she was saying. He made a small bow of the head and left her. He wanted to ask her what was happening to modern American gender equality, but if the woman were thirsty he'd fetch her a drink. She made him think of Ariella, all the time Ariella, and yet he knew it wasn't her, it was Blade.

It was just water he asked for but the bartender had three other people shouting at her, so Robert waited, searched for bills in his pockets. He found eyes staring at him when he looked up, heavily made-up eyes; he thought them tacky. It was a woman he realized, wearing a belt that made her distended belly seem more pronounced, and having her hair teased into a bouffant doo. "I saw you with Blade," she said.

"You're a reporter," Robert said even as he realized it.

She gave her name, he wasn't listening, the bartender pushed a tall glass of water at him. Robert pushed a couple bills at the bartender.

"I know that I have seen you...Ah, the hair, it was with Steven Jewel, at USA?"

This sounded likely. "Yes, yes, of course, I used to drag him to all sorts of terrible clubs," Robert said, the English accent made particularly annoying. He'd picked up this habit from his son: when you wanted to annoy someone, speak with a false accent and pretend you aren't.

"I saw you with Blade," she said again.

"Oh, Baby? Yes, I was dancing with her wasn't I?"

"You were. Do you know her well?"

Robert searched for her. She was dancing with another man; this annoyed him, particularly as this man was very pretty, in his late twenties, and black. And then he could swear it was Ariella's voice he heard scolding, "And what is she?"

Robert glared in Blade's direction. She looked stunned suddenly, lost her rhythm and stared in his direction. He flashed a smile. Don't you trifle with me, Baby.

"Oh, I'd say I know her intimately."

"I don't think I caught your name..."

"I didn't give it to you."

"Can I have your name?"

Robert found Blade again, she still had that boy with her, he was standing behind her, hands on her waist, but it was Robert she watched. He sent her half a smile, sipped water. He looked down at the reporter. "Shade," he said rather amused by the fey accent, "Robert Shade." She looked like she was memorizing this. "I'm 27," he said, "Egyptian, recently of England. Oh, and I'm a Capricorn, born just after midnight on Christmas Eve, the 25th actually." Of course he knew the Christos hadn't been born on December 25th, but since so many people went along with the lie he'd got into a habit of saying it was his birthday.

He saw Blade leading the boy toward the bar.

Blade deliberately let her eyes pass over this reporter and soon she disappeared. Blade took the glass of water and gulped from it. "This is William," she said.

Robert smiled at William, even made a small nod. "Robert," he said finally.

William made some lame gesture that was almost a wave. "Some people I know are having a party," he said.

"We could go," Blade said to Robert, eyes widening on him.

"Sure," Robert said, but he knew that he didn't mean it.

It was Blade who led the way out of the club. Robert walked behind, seething. First, he'd woken to watch her, and saw her kiss Steven, and then she invited them to this boy's friend's party...somewhere. And the boy was very pretty, pretty and miserable, just looking to die young. Robert had not murdered that night.

When Blade became distracted looking for her keys Robert grabbed William and led him away. He didn't run, just walked quickly and quietly away. He pushed William into the narrow shadow of a garage door. "Aw, don't do this, man," William said. Robert put his hand over the young man's mouth and cut into his neck.

By the time Blade found him William was both dead and slumped on the sidewalk. Robert was stooped over the dead body closing the wound with his own blood.

"You shit!" Blade screamed.

Robert was not in any mood to argue with her.

"You didn't have to kill him!"

"And you never had to kill me."

"You lived."

"Not for any lack of trying on your part. Besides all those half naked bodies in there made me hungry, and it's not like I could just go into a 7-11 and ask for a six-pack of blood."

Blade shook her head gravely. "This is not good, you didn't have to kill him, not him. Oh, and people saw us with him, you told that damn reporter your name, didn't you."

"If any Angels come looking for two honest New Yorkers I'll give them your number, 'cause, they'll need it."

"You...you ate him!"

Robert smiled.

Blade lunged forward and hit him. "That wasn't good!"

"You are serious? It is completely within my nature to kill Humans, Baby, that's not wrong. It's just nature."

Her lips and fingertips all trembled. "Then nature is wrong! That was not good, him dying was not good."

Rebellious.

"Going to kill me again?"

When she looked at him, Robert was silenced. She wanted to kill him, wanted badly to destroy him, but she knew when it came to it she would not be able to do it.

Blade turned on her heels and ran back to her car.

Robert got up and walked after her. It wasn't a slasher movie; it took him a lot longer to reach the car. She would have had time to drive away, search for a weapon, but instead she just stood leaning against her car, teary-eyed. "I hardly ever cried before I met you."

"All right."

She threw herself at him, buried her face in the crook of his neck and kissed his throat. "Kill me...."

"I can't."

"Please, one of us has to die, kill me, I can't do this, I can't take it."

"It must be painful, all your illusions shattered one after the other, but it won't last."

"Oh God!"

"Why do you say that so often? God's nature, if you think nature so unfair, why call on God?"

"I don't know. Just...please, Robert, I don't know what to do...."

"I love you," he said, almost suddenly, as if he wanted to say it before he could change his mind.

Blade just cried.

~~~~

It was to the Necropolis Robert took Blade. It was already closing on dawn. Louis wasn't there, Robert guessed he was at his loft, with Psyche. (He imagined she was spilling candlewax on his chest.) He lay Blade in his own bed and took off her boots and stockings. She lay listlessly, as if it had been she he drained of blood.

Robert lay down at her side. And he began telling a story, the same story that would be told in the future to Daniel. He told her about The Cross, and Angels, Star, Lily, Zerachiel, Gabriel, Ariella, Athen. He told her about the children's crusade, about Lucifer, about living in Venice, Paris, England, and San Francisco.

It was the middle of the day by the time he finished, and he'd been whispering this story to her for hours without pause, confessing.

When he was finished Blade spoke without moving, without looking at him. "There are only two choices: I die now, or you give me the blood."

And so he gave her the blood.