The daylight was muted and impotent when Emma finally awoke, and there was little more than a slumberous shaft of grey breaking though a slit in the sturdy drapes. The space beside her was conspicuously empty and offered no more warmth than the frail light. She might then have doubted the existence of her vampyre lover altogether had he not left a noticeable depression in the mattress beside her where, she recalled, he'd kept a wordless vigil, black eyes pressing sensually along her ivory flesh, as she'd lost herself to sleep; moreover, this was no familiar bed in which she had awoken. Presently, however, there was only the silence of an empty chamber to meet her searching gaze.

But there, on his pillow, lay the white queen. Emma smiled at the figurine, reaching to curl her fingers over its cool length. She flattered herself that, by leaving it there for her to find, Markus' arch intent was to validate that she was by no means overmastered by his black king, and that, perhaps, the battle had just begun. As abstruse and calculating as he was, there was like as not far less noble motives for leaving the figurine there, but she was best pleased with him just now and was not, at least not yet, inclined to acknowledge the dark inklings that were sure to rouse themselves eventually.

At length she lifted her head from the pillow and almost as soon as she was upright her peripheral flooded with nauseating shadows. Fortunately the darkness subsided almost as quickly as it had veiled her eyes, and it was with slow enervation that she left the bed.

Her tattered chemise on the rug instantly distracted her from her bloodless reveries. Unsalvageable, she thought, fingering the delicate fabric as heat stole rapidly into her cheeks. The ruined chemise was once more unceremoniously delivered to the rug, after which she betook herself to the window, peeking through the crimson brocade to cast her eyes over the foggy landscape. It was a cheerless prospect made more so by the ghostlike trees frozen in the milky light.

Ruminating over the stillness, she lifted a wary hand to her neck, where Markus had placed his vampiric kiss, but she could feel no puncture wounds beneath her fingertips. The dearth of a teeth marks, or pain, actuated her from the windowsill and thence to the mirror where she inspected her neck carefully, and was amazed to see her neck unmarred and in fine fettle.

"How curious," she murmured, dropping her hand. Strange indeed that the paleness of her flesh and the listlessness of her body should attest to the esurient kisses that had left no visible marks. She was, unless she deceived herself, a rational woman—or had been—and had prided herself on that, but of late she found herself questioning her compos mentis more and more.

Truly, there was not a single aspect about their voracious midnight coupling that hadn't been irrefutably vivid, incendiary and transcendental. Although the bite had mysteriously vanished, Markus' exquisite bruises had nevertheless remained. Even now the trace of his touch still lingered viscerally as though his flesh had scorched hers. Perhaps more frightening even than his presence in her blood was that, for one infinite moment in time, their souls had moved as one prismatic flare of ecstasy. No indeed, her slumber had been strangely dreamless—the bite, and the creature who'd bestowed it, had been no delusory phantom. And where was he now?

The next thing she was forced to contemplate was the question of how best to slip back to her room unnoticed. Although in all likelihood she would, perforce, have to mantle her body in bloodied sheets and march back to her room in a state of undress with what little dignity might prevail in such cases as these.

This difficulty was, however, shortly rendered moot when Mrs. Skinner suddenly entered the room after only a cursory knock to declare her entrance.

There was nothing for it but to bear the woman's cold scrutiny as she floated into the room—not for the world would Emma have balked and scurried behind the curtains like a timid cat or insult the woman's intelligence with woeful excuses as to why she was standing there, shameless as a Jezebel, in the master's chamber.

Yet Mrs. Skinner seemed oddly unconcerned by both Emma's nakedness and her presence in her master's private chambers. In fact, to Emma's intense relief and mortification, she'd brought with her a fresh chemise and a morning gown.

"Good afternoon, miss," said she, placing Emma's habiliments upon the chest of drawers and lighting the beeswax taper. "Will you break your fast in the dinning room or shall I have your chocolate delivered to these apartments?"

Emma studied the cadaverous face for any sign of opprobrium, but, if indeed she was capable of any such strong emotion, the old housekeeper's lineaments had long since waxed into the familiar apathy that Emma was accustomed to.

"Thank you, Mrs. Skinner, but I believe I'll take my chocolate in the library."

"As you please." A look of mild displeasure settled over the old spider's features as she watched Emma proceed towards the curtains. "Shall I stay to help you dress, miss?"

"That shan't be necessary." 

"Very good."

Indeed. It was one thing to bear the unnerving presence of a revenant at any time—this creature specifically—but quite another to do so in the altogether whilst cloistered in a darkened room. "Is Lord Winterly in his Library?" She therewith threw the heavy silk apart to admit whatever feeble light there was, but when she hastily turned around to receive her answer, fearful of keeping old Skinner too long at her unprotected back, it was to realize that the vampyre had already made quick work of escaping the light. "Slippery creature," she muttered.

Once appropriately attired, and with the comfort of her candle in hand, Emma took one last look at the looming bed, and the votive blood she'd so willingly sacrificed thereon, before slipping from Markus' lair.

It was as she navigated the lonely hallways and galleries that Emma contemplated the perpetual darkness that pervaded the castle. Even when the sun was not obscured by leaden skies the warmth of daylight never, not to her knowledge, seemed to find its way within the ancient walls of Castle Winterly. She had wondered at the lack of casements when first she'd arrived, but, since that stormy day at the abbey, she no longer deceived herself as to the whys and wherefores.

It was strange to perceive, even before she pushed the heavy door open, that the library lay empty; but Emma, by some insoluble connection with him, understood that she would not find Markus in the room upon entering. A stab of fleeting disappointment settled coldly into her belly, which in and of itself was vexing—the prospect of Emma being so much attached to the beast already was an inclination she neither welcomed nor wished to consider further.

The only sign that he had been there at all was the pulsing glow of embers in the fireplace; and the single rose that lay waiting for her atop the mantlepiece as though he'd always known she'd come looking for him in the library. Beneath it's delicate thorns he'd placed what looked to her like a billet-doux, her name scrawled boldly in black ink. The rose she lifted first, cupping only the head so that the stem dangled between two fingers, lest its fearsome claws take what little blood Markus had left to her. She touched the luxuriant petals to her lips, their dark crimson flesh nigh black, and drank of its tenebrous perfume. The candle she surrendered to the mantle shelf and, after filling her lungs once more with nectar, placed the rose beside the flame, took up her letter, and eagerly broke the wax seal.

My dearest rose—for such you are to me: delicate, beautiful and easily crushed, yet not without the thorns to bite back and the means to draw blood. Therein lies your beauty, in the vibrant seasons of your transient life. And in the light you wield that penetrates even the deepest of the shadows o'er my disillusioned heart. It is therefore with keen impatience that I look forward to our next lively chess match.

Yours, M.

There was no visible eye to observe her dawning blushes, only the peeking embers and the shifting shadows crowding the room. Carrying the rose and the letter like two costly treasures, she moved towards the veiled window whence Markus had carried her sister into the night. As she had done in his chamber earlier, she parted the drapes to welcome the diluted sunlight to cascade athwart her upturned face.

Like a satiated cat she curled up on the window seat to revel in midnight memories. She was not, however, so naive as to think that her delicious languor was anything but ephemeral; the evening, she knew, would soon set in on her fleeting bliss. It was therein, at dusk, she'd doubtless find her eternal regret and perceive the verity and magnitude of her folly. For the nonce, however, she was thankful that her conscience remained disquietingly still. And she was yet much struck with the gravid rush of love whelming violently in her breast, brimming with a lively verdure that was so at odds with her pallor.

Into her private rumination obtruded Mrs. Skinner's sudden eerie scratching against the door. The housekeeper's feet padded silently along the flagstones and Turkish carpets as she approached the table beside the settle. It was there, where the shadows still gathered, that she set the breakfast tray.

"A letter arrived for you this morning, miss." She gestured a spindly white finger to the epistle resting beside Emma's chocolate.

Emma gave a distracted nod of her head, far more interested in Winterly's whereabouts than her unexpected mail. "Where, pray, has your master gone?"

The vampyre eyed the window distrustfully, seemingly impatient to be away. "My master offered no explanations, miss, and I know better than to pry." There was a decided warning in her tone as she backed away from the shaft of light. "Will there be anything else?"

"I thank you, no," said Emma, just as eager to be alone as the vampyre was to escape the sunlight.

The door closed swiftly behind the housekeeper, and the library became, once more, Emma's private asylum. Sighing, she closed her gaze upon the room, and the moment her lashes brushed against her cheeks Winterly's dark eyes opened themselves within her mind. All that had transpired last night replayed once more like an ambrosial dream, lucid and tangible.

"What do I taste like?" she'd asked him in the small hours, stroking his lips with indolent fingers.

"An earthly heaven," he'd readily replied, his toothsome smile sharp and hungry. "My very own luscious brand of opium."

"And what, I wonder, do you taste of?"

He'd become swiftly grave and silent thereafter, but, just as her lids were growing heavy, he'd finally answered, "Pray you never find out."

The waning afternoon light, disappearing rapidly from where she still basked at the window, had been warm enough to send her to sleep a short while, but when she awoke again it was to find her chocolate ice cold and the epistle still unopened.

It was from Anna!

My dear—It is with dire urgency that I speak with you. Meet me in the Whitby Inn today as soon as may be. I shall wait till nightfall. Make haste and come alone.

Your friend, Anna.

"Mrs. Skinner!" Emma flew from the window to ring the bell, and the vampyre appeared almost instantly. "Have the coach brought around. I have just recalled a vital errand, and must hasten directly to town."

"At once, miss." Skinner lowered her small black eyes to the opened letter and, after only a fleeting pause, disappeared from the door.

It was late in the afternoon by the time Emma signaled the coachman to a sudden halt. She had chosen a narrow street at hazard and, before the carriage wheels had stopped completely, she'd quickly alighted. The coachman, though hidden beneath his broad-brimmed hat, upturned collar, and sturdy leather gloves, appeared miserable despite that the sky remained closed in with gloomy and impenetrable stratus.

Still and all her vampiric coachman seemed disinclined to leave her unattended. "The master won't be pleased."

Unconcerned by his wary prognostications, she firmly insisted he do as she bade him and instructed that he come back for her no sooner than the passage of one hour. That, she reasoned, would have her home before sunset and withal time to spare; moreover, she added, that if he wished to avoid his master's disapprobation then it was best he not volunteer the particulars. Sullen faced, he nodded and snapped the reins to urge the horses on their way again.

Once the coach had turned a corner and disappeared from view, Emma hurried along the roads and alleys towards the inn. After assuring herself, with furtive looks down both sides of the causeway, that she was as yet unobserved at the front door of the coaching inn she slipped beneath the lintel and proceeded to the dinning hall within.

The tables, she soon found, were crowded and every chair and bench was filled with vociferous children and cheerful patrons partaking of warm comestibles and tankards of ale. The oil lamps had been lit and the sounds and shadows bounced heartily along the wooden beams overhead. Tucked in the corner, removed from the gaiety, there sat a lone woman in an emerald pelisse, her red curls made more fiery by the glow from the fireside. 

"My dear!" her friend exclaimed in an animated whisper, taking Emma's hands in hers almost as soon as she'd arrived at Anna's table and planting a warm kisses atop each of Emma's pale cheeks. "I feared my letter might have gone astray, but here you are at last!" Her beautiful features were worn with worriment, and there appeared no time to exchange pleasantries. "Your hands are so cold, dear girl, come sit by the fire and warm your blood, but do keep your voice down." She leaned around Emma to glance anxiously at the windows and the doorway. "They'd as soon kill me as look at me."

The vampyres? "Not Markus, surely?"

Anna gave a derisive snort. "Ay, him and his hateful brothers."

"I thought," said she, confused, "that he only had one brother."

"No, there are three altogether...and Gabriel is far and away the worst of that demoniac triad."

"You must explain yourself, I have no more knowledge than what I've seen for myself and learned from Lord Winterly himself—"

"Doubtless all of it lies."

"And what little I've read in that strange book you gave me has only puzzled me the more."

"You will have your answers, but first tell me how you've been."

"I wrote a letter to you only last night," Emma murmured, realizing belatedly that she'd meant to post it today. "So much has happened in so short a time that I know not where to begin." With her hands clasped firmly between Anna's cold fingers, she hastily relayed all that had unfolded since she'd arrived at Castle Winterly. Lastly, she besought Anna's guidance as to how she might better protect her poor sister.

"Mercy!" Anna shuddered. "It is no longer Milli but you who are in the very gravest of danger. You must leave that hellish place at once."

"But I've given him my word and am honor bound to stay." And she was now not altogether sure she wished to leave him at all; as morbid as it seemed her loyalty had somehow evolved to encompass the very creature that, according to Anna, threatened her very life. "At least for the time being," she added uncertainly. "In return he has pledged himself to Milli's safety."

"And you believe the devil?!" Anna, aghast, swiftly released Emma's hands. "A covenant with a dragon is written in blood, surely you must see that!" And then her eyes suddenly widened fearfully as something dreadful occurred to her. "Have you lain with him?"

"I have," she confessed.

"Mercy, Emma!" Anna's face drained of all blood. "Are you mad?"

"Mad and sick." Sick with love.

"Oh, you foolish girl."

They, perforce, grew quiet as a servant arrived with two pewter mugs of ale that he deposited atop their table. Anna thanked him, relinquished a shilling, and briskly explained that they would be requiring nothing more and that there were to be no interruptions henceforth. The man nodded and repaired to the kitchens without delay, leaving them to their hushed colloquy.

"At least give me the comfort of knowing you have not allowed him to feed from your veins," said Anna hopefully. "Tell me he has not taken that from you."

"He has not," Emma lied, knowing with profound certainty that her fate was already sealed for better or for worse; forevermore. It would not do to distress Anna anymore than she already appeared, besides which it was for Milli that she still feared, not for herself. At all events the falsehood was only a small one —Markus had taken nothing Emma had not already offered freely and willingly.

"Thank heaven!" Anna cried, placing her hands once more over Emma's. "Do whatever you must to ensure that he never does!"

"Why ever not?" She felt perfectly fine, if a little lightheaded.

"For no other reason than he is a parasite and a monster!"

Emma set her teeth and pulled her hands into the folds of her dress. "Let me be clear, Anna, the veracity of your caveats are as yet in doubt, as is the nature of your friendship. If you truly are my confidante and have only my best interests at heart then tell me once and for all who you are and how it is that you know so much about Markus Winterly."

Anna's gaze flitted nervously over Emma's shoulder, lest there be a vampyre watching from the darkening window. "Very well," said she at last with a troubled sigh. "I shall tell you who I am, you have certainly earned that right, albeit my trust is not yet won." She leaned in a fraction closer and fixed Emma with eyes that had become suddenly stark and black, as though her pupils had engulfed her irises. "But, more than that," she went on in a terrible whisper, "it is who and what you are that will most disturb you."

♡It has been far too long! I forgot how much I loved emerging myself in this story. Sadly, I'm working a lot, flying nonstop, selling my house, packing my life into boxes, buying a new home, and trying to edit Thorne Bay before I fly out to South Africa for my best friend's wedding. My life is, in a word, chaotic. Hope you forgive my absence. I love you and miss you and am working on a full time writing opportunity. That way you never have to wait for updates! Hope this chapter satisfies your vampire cravings at least a little.♡