The flame weltered as the night breathed its dark musk into the room through the open window, incensing Markus's smoky amber with wild heather and oakmoss. Emma glutted her senses on the feel and taste of him, breathed deeply the earthy labdanum that clung to his hair as his lips brushed tenderly over her throat.

By degrees he dragged his mouth ever upwards until he'd taken complete possession of hers, igniting a burst of bright flames in her core where there had been glowing embers before. Emma closed her fists in his hair and urged his kisses deeper and deeper, but he withstood her urgency, lingering and savoring her lips at his leisure. With a soft chuckle, he gently unfettered her fingers and removed them to the pillow over her head, whereupon he restrained both wrists in the palm of his hand. In due course, the fingertips of his other hand began a slow tour down her ribs, delaying over her breasts with light touches that only heightened her fervor. She made to wrest her hands free, but he easily thwarted her efforts and, consequently, undertook to punish her with wicked enthusiasm. He sucked her bottom lip between his sharp teeth with a warning nip while the hand that had been traveling southward suddenly ceased its progress, prolonging the sweet thrumming agony of her flesh. She gave a frustrated moan, but stilled her writhing, though she could do nothing to calm the eager trembling that overtook her body.

Satisfied that he had made his point, Markus released her hands and planted them firmly either side of her restive hips, giving each hand a peremptory squeeze, which served as a tacit warning to keep them whence he bade them stay. Unwilling to further distract him from his heady caresses, she dug her nails, instead, into the mattress and bit her lip against the force of her lust. A light dew had, meanwhile, gathered over her skin, her flesh glistening like satin in the candlelight, of which Markus availed himself with thirstful strokes of his tongue. By and by, his quest betook him to her navel where, with a distrait finger, he described the shape of her crescent birthmark.

"It is well I can do nothing more than touch and kiss you tonight," said he. Amusement curled his lips as he watched her thrust herself up onto her elbows, brows knitting in consternation. "Do not look at me like that, my beauty, or you will test my willpower. We vampyres have little enough restraint, you know."

"I want more than kisses, Markus."

"I assure you I am more than able to satiate your hunger with kisses, and what a pleasure it will be to prove it."

She tilted her head, her face smoothing into a feline smile, and then reposed herself once more in his voluptuary ministrations. "I don't doubt your prowess." She gave a sudden gasp as he settled his mouth between her thighs. "But"—she gasped again and bit her lip, reveling in sultry torture—"but I want you to—oh, heavens!—Markus, I want..."

"I know."

"Then..." She was rendered a primal creature unable to speak in whole sentences. "Then you will...?"

"No, Emma." He raised his head—much to her dismay—then shifted himself forward so that his face hovered over hers, whereupon he settled his great weight onto his elbows. "For two reasons." With a pointed look and an arched brow, he gestured to the great disparity in their sizes. "The first is that the nature of my current physiology makes our coupling quite impossible. That is until I recover from the effects of the poison."

Well, she couldn't very well argue that point—she had no desire, leastwise not a suicidal desire, to test the hardiness of her body against the colossal proportions of his.

"Secondly," he continued, "I have bound your blood to mine, and with that comes certain ramifications."

"Bound my blood to yours?"

"My blood courses through your heart as your blood sustains mine. We are blood bound." He traced her bruised lips with a loving finger. "There would be a child tonight if we...continued."

"Oh!" Her eyes widened in understanding. "Victoria inferred that I might already be—"

"Never mind what she said." He kissed her hard on the mouth and then repositioned himself back betwixt her legs as before. "I would rather talk no more about Victoria, if it's all the same to you, Miss Lucas."

Her back suddenly arched at the glorious contact of his tongue. "As you wish, my lord."

...

All was quiet as the first blush of dawn peeked into the room. Emma ought to have been exhausted and gloriously sated, yet she could claim only the latter and none of the former. If indeed she was rushing to her own ruination then she was obliged to enjoy it—he had confessed his love for her, and she had decided to trust him. But there must have been something of her melancholy in the sigh that brushed across his chest, for his fingers stilled in her hair and therewith transferred to her chin, cajoling her gaze up to his with a light touch.

"What divertissements keeps you from your slumber?"

"All the shocking things your mouth is capable of, for one thing."

"For one thing?" He smirked. "I should think that ought to have been quite enough of a thing. A rare good thing."

She giggled and tried to close her hand over his grinning lips. "A thing better done in the dark—"

"Like all good things."

"—and left undiscussed, if you please."

Abruptly, he rolled her beneath him for a deep kiss that instantly enflamed her core. "Yes, I do please."

"Hmm." She stretched her tired muscles and caressed the sinews over his ribs and flanks. "When will the poison wear off?"

He stilled above her, his lips pausing their sojourn below her ear. "Emma..."

"What is it?" She stroked his jaw and watched the shadows flicker in his eyes.

He turned over onto his back again and drew her to his side, her head on his shoulder, where she had lain before. "Tell me about the other thing that troubled your thoughts just now."

"But..." She could not very well concentrate on anything other than the state of her discomfit; that was indeed an unsatisfied thing hard to overcome.

"I need a distraction, Emma."

"Very well." She heaved a sigh, wondering at his sudden change of mood. "I believe I've finally solved the riddle in Vampyris." When he only lifted one sardonic brow, she explained. "The riddle in the volume Anna vouchsafed to me before I came here."

"Ah, yes, your foolish little witch."

"That's another thing!" She sat up to glare down at him, her discomfit forgotten in the wake of a different passion. "What have you done with her?"

"I haven't done anything with the little nuisance. My brother, however, has a score to settle. And one not even I may interfere in. He is, after all, far older and stronger than I."

Emma chewed her lip, troubled. "What will be done to her?"

"That doesn't concern you, Emma."

"I want to know!"

"Gabriel is a very ancient vampyre, Emma. He is the oldest creature that I know of, and in all his infinite earthly years there has been but one driving force keeping him sustained: vengeance."

"Because Anna killed Sariel?"

"Yes. It is best you forget her."

"And what of her riddle? Am I to forget the prophecy she warned me of?" Even Victoria had known of it!

With a growl he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to brood.

"I am the Grail—from my womb will come the blight of mankind! Can you deny it?"

"Of course I deny it! That book," he muttered through his teeth, "was written by a coven of watchers, Emma! By the same creatures that, for millennia, have hunted down and destroyed the Nephilim—those like yourself, innocent but for their race." He whirled around to glare down at her. "I care nothing for their biased records and debasement. A history written by my enemies is hardly a history worth remembering. Just as Rome chronicled Cleopatra's only extant history, the Grigory recorded mine. So, yes, I wish you will forget that stupid prophecy and cease bedeviling me with superstition."

"Superstition?! Vampyres exist only in superstition, yet here you sit!"

"I have said—" his face was seething with shadows "—all I will say on that score."

"Then explain one last thing."

"Surely not another thing?" He grunted, his anger suddenly dissipating. "Haven't we discussed enough things tonight?"

"Did you kill the women in London?" She had dreaded asking this question; but over and above that, she dreaded his answer, for the murders were not evils she could forgive him.

"No."

Her lungs seemed to collapse with relief, the air rushing from them in a great sigh. "Who then?"

"My brother, Gabriel." His gaze wandered to the window where the sky was blooming with roseate hues. "The murders, as you call them—"

"What would you call them?!"

"Surviving!" He narrowed his gaze at her. "What do you think we immortals sustain ourselves on if not the lives of men?"

"Can you not survive on the blood of livestock?"

"Would you eat a nightshade berry just because it appears like a berry? One creature's blood is not like another's. We can drink only the blood of humans, Emma." His mouth flattened irritably. "I like to think I am ridding the herd of disease."

"But surely you need not kill to survive? Could you not just take a little blood?"

"Would you have me believe that you need not slaughter a pig for its flesh? That the pig might continue its merry life without the loins you took for your supper?"

"The one is not the same as the other! Or do you tell me that you have fallen in love with your supper? What am I if not a pig?"

The chuckle that followed was without warmth or humor. "Ah! But that is my dilemma, my sweet rose. Gabriel, however, suffers no such compunction; he esteems his horse above pigs and dogs, but he esteems mankind not at all." He sighed as he surveyed her chapfallen mouth. "You needn't fear, now that he has himself a watcher he will soon return to his Carpathian mountains and London shall be safe once again."

"Safe but for you and Victoria and all your kith and kin besides."

"Apart from my excellent taste in lovers, my palate is less refined than Gabriel's. And most vampyres, I assure you, are far more discreet. For myself, I prefer my sustenance of the less savory variety."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I enjoy the taste of predators." His smile widened at her continued bewilderment. "The Newgate and Bridewell cages don't whet my appetite, mind you; those beasts are far too subdued. No, I much prefer the murderers and rapists that stalk by night, preying on wee lambs and pigs."

"Criminals? Oh!" It was hard to say which emotion was the stronger—her disgust or her admiration. She hoped the latter. 

"I say, the more deranged the brains the better the flavor."

She gave a shudder. "What occupied you the night I went to Whitby?"

"I was enjoying the delicious company of a fat little politician with a predilection for little boys."

"God Almighty! I hope you destroyed the beast!"

"I see you're coming around to my way of thinking at last."

At this she burst into uneasy laughter and swatted his arm, unwilling to acknowledge her disgust. But if she was to love her dragon completely then she could not harbor the sentiments of lambs; for him she would learn to accept and understand. For Gabriel, however, she bore only fear and loathing. He was another beast entirely, and one she could not begin to understand. Poor Anna! Was there anything at all to be done for her, or was she truly lost?

All thoughts of Anna were abruptly halted as Markus suddenly swept her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. She was startled a moment by the depth of feeling that enveloped her entire body like a hot cyclonic wind—it nigh frightened her, it was so intense.

"For my own selfish reasons, I have kept you awake far too long. The sun will be up soon." He spoke as though he regretted its arrival. "You must sleep now and I must hunt if I'm to restore my strength." This speech was followed by a powerful kiss.

"Why does this feel like farewell?" She gave a suspicious yawn.

"I love you, Emma." Even his wings had wrapped themselves around her. "My Emma."

She tucked the side of her face into the crook of his shoulder, willing herself not to comply with his hypnotic directive. She was too tired to resist, however, and her body, like his, was not yet hale. Valiant though her efforts were, she could fight the stupor no more and was soon lost to a deep slumber.

As on the previous occasion she had slept in his room, she awoke alone to find a note in his stead; a poor substitute. With an atrabilious sigh and a trembling hand she unfolded the letter.

My dearest Emma,

It will no doubt alarm and annoy you to know that I have ever loved to watch you sleep and I did so often even in London, even if only to marvel at the peaceful repose of your beloved features. You have, in the months I have known you, shared a little of that peace with me, such as I have not known in all my long life; for that I adore and thank you. But I fear that I have only stolen yours in return and made of you a wilted prisoner.

I confess I am an old thief—a thief of life and freedom; and a thief of peace. This has never disturbed me until now, for your life and your peace have become far dearer to me than even my own. So here I stand—a checkmated king to your queen. It would be selfish, therefore, to keep you and snuff your light with my darkness, so I must let you go. I give you your freedom at last, Emma. Take it with all my love.

Milli too shall be safe and free of my kind—only do convince her never to remove the protection you wrapped around her wrist, for, unlike her sister, I didn't give enough of my blood to bind Milli to me.

I have left instructions with Skinner who will furnish you with the address of my solicitor in London. He is expecting you. I have made provisions for you and your sister; it is my wish that your pecuniary freedom and independence be absolute. Some small recompense for your sojourn into the Underworld.

I love you, my enduring rose.

Yours in eternity,

Markus

No sooner had she pressed the note to her aching breast than the upsurge of violent tears began to split her wrecked and ruined heart! Sobs tore from her throat hot and fast as she cradled the note she'd crushed in her fist. In the end, freedom had come at a bitter price; freedom could not, after all, take the place of the missing half of her wretched heart.