Chapter Eight:

Mulder

Riley Observatory
4:39 a.m.


It reminded me of two wolves, circling each other. Fighting for dominance. Each threatening the other, knowing that only one would survive. But I could only focus on one person right now. My whole body tensed as I stared at him down the barrel of my gun. He was too close to Scully.

"I've marked her, Peter. Properly. Aren't you proud me?" cried Cyrus, pulling Scully to her feet. The knife grazed her slightly, causing her to cry out. I was just about to blow the son of a bitch away when suddenly, he let her go. Throwing her at Peter, where she collapsed into his arms.

"Proud of what? You turning her into an object?" Peter said, holding her close. He whispered something to her, then called back to Cyrus. "She's not cattle to be branded."

"My, my. How touching," Cyrus sneered. "You forget what they are, Peter. You forget what YOU are. Vampire. Monster. Killer. There is no difference, Peter. We are what we are."

"To you there's no difference. To me, 'vampire' does not belong in the same league as those other words," Peter said, gathering Scully in his arms. He carried her, stepping outside of the circle they were standing in. He looked over at our direction briefly. He was trying to place her in the darkness and shadows. Where we could rescue her.

"Illusions, dearest Peter. All illusions. I know you. The real you. I've seen you kill, I've seen you enjoy it," Cyrus said, watching him carefully. His eyes began to blaze yellow and I hear a growl from deep within his throat.

"But you never saw me change," Peter replied, stepping back into the circle. Focusing Cyrus' attention on him alone.

I started to move, to get Scully away from there. But Jessica's hand grabbed my arm strongly.

"No, Fox," she whispered. "I'll get her."

"No," I said firmly. "I will get Scully."

"My reflexes are faster than yours," she said. "I can move much more quickly than you can. I can see in the dark. I'm strong enough to carry her back here."

"No," I repeated, knowing why she was saying this. One person, he might not detect. Two people, he would. And that one person was going to be me. No matter what she thought. I kept my attention focused on Cyrus, watching him closely.

"I'm faster, Fox," I heard her whisper.

"I said no," I whispered one final time, starting to move. I turned to her again.

But she was gone.

"You just left me, dear Peter. And you promised you'd never do that..." Cyrus continued, his voice echoing off the walls. "What have you promised, her? Eternal love? Commitment? Too bad you must break those as well."

I couldn't see anything. Goddamn it. Jessica.

"I always told my wife I'd die before I'd break a promise to her. If that's the price you feel must be paid, then come and collect. But believe me, my dear Cyrus, I will make you work for it. In fact, I might just take you with me," Peter said, edging closer to him.

My eyes searched the darkness in the area he had laid Scully.

"I've already tasted her, Peter. Felt her life in me. What a rush it gave me. If you want a fight, I'll gladly give it to you...but in the end, your life will me mine. Again. I'll enjoy breaking your spirit, as I did hers," Cyrus said, reaching for Peter.

"My dear Cyrus, I only have three words for you. Bring it on."

Where the hell was Jessica?

Cyrus lunged forward dramatically, Peter moved swiftly to the side. Easily dodging his attack. Too easily.

Peter turned around, to find Cyrus had disappeared into the darkness behind him.

"My my my, what do we have here?" Cyrus sneered, pulling Jessica by the arm out of the darkness. "I thought I smelled other prey here."

Peter's eyes grew wide, and behind them a mixture of fear and rage.

I rushed to where Jessica was headed. Falling to my hands and knees and feeling something solid there. Scully.

I touched her, leaning in to press my ear to her heart. She was alive...

"Peter, you clever little trickster!" Cyrus cried. Jessica's body tensed against him. "It seems I've been duped."

He ran a hand over Jessica's hair, almost admiring it. "So similar indeed. But I must admit I was surprised when I saw she had cut it." He yanked the clip from Jessica's hair, letting it spill down her back.

Peter drew his lips back, teeth bared as he fixed his stare on Cyrus. "Let her go."

"Now, that is more like it," he said, gathering a handful up in his hand. Then he pulled it sharply down, causing Jessie's head to snap to the side. Exposing her neck. "Care to watch, Peter?"

"LET HER GO!"

"Not without killing her first," Cyrus snarled, sinking his teeth into Jessica's neck.


****

Peter

Riley Observatory
4:47 a.m.


Jessie howled in pain as Cyrus bit down into the left side of her neck. Her body thrashed as she tried to get away from him.

And all I could do was watch helplessly as he tried to drain the life out of her.

But I knew something he didn't. Jessie was no longer mortal. And a vampire can never drink another vampire's blood. It's like drinking acid.

I watched as he began to drink from her. His reaction was almost immediate. Choking and gagging, he pulled his mouth away from her neck and spit out her blood. The expression of combined shock and anger filled his face.

"A NEWBORN?!" he roared. "You TURNED HER?!"

Before I could answer, Agent Mulder's voice rang out. "Federal agent! Freeze!"

Everyone did.

The sound of his footsteps on the metal stairs coming up to the platform was the only sound that echoed around the curved walls. His gun was trained directly on Cyrus and his eyes never left the vampire's face as he stepped onto the platform.

"Let her go," he said quietly.

"Another victim?" smirked Cyrus. "My goodness, Peter. I must thank you for bringing me all this food. I'm going to have a veritable feast!" He jerked back Jessie's head and stage whispered to her, "Have you ever watched someone die while being fed from, Jessica? In the throes of your first Hunger, your first feeding, did you ever kill?"

A low, guttural sound emerged from Jessie's throat. A sound of pure rage. "I know monsters," she snarled at him. "I was even married to one. But compared to you, my first husband was a saint." She struggled in his grip, but his hand tightened around her hair. She let out a small cry of pain. "And I know that Peter is no longer a monster, no matter what he used to be. Once you change, you can't change back."

Cyrus went on, ignoring her words. "As a newborn, my dear, you are going to have to learn these things. You're going to have to learn what you are. Things I know Peter would never have the guts to teach you. That you are a monster, that you are a killer, and that you are meant for so much more than this simple life. You can take whatever you want from these pathetic creatures. Humans are meant to live in terror of you."

"Not all of them," came Agent Mulder's voice, accompanied by the click of his gun as he cocked it, preparing to fire.

Jessie said nothing. She merely turned her head to peer into Cyrus' eyes.

And then she spit in his face.

With a snarl, Cyrus hurled her to the floor. She fell against the wood, hard. I was about to rush forward to help her up when she raised her head and stared up at me. Almost imperceptibly, she shook her head. I stopped, not daring to move. Then, reaching inside the suit jacket she wore, she pulled out one of the stakes I had given to Agent Mulder. Her eyes were still locked with mine as she mouthed the words "I love you" to me.

Then, with a shriek, she leaped up and hurled herself at Cyrus, stake raised, fully intent on burying it in his heart.

Her reflexes were fast, but his were faster. Only a moment later, the stake was flying past me and Jessie was on her knees, her throat encircled by Cyrus' fingers. One twist of his hand would break her neck. Even a vampire's strength wouldn't keep her safe from that.

"Bad move, my dear," he hissed at her. "Very, very bad move."

"Cyrus," I said in a low, warning voice.

He looked up at me and another sadistic smile crossed his face. "I have said that we need to get rid of everything that changed you, haven't I, Peter?" He shook her slightly, causing her to yelp. "I think we will start with her!"

He picked her up, bodily raising her over his head. She struggled in his grip, letting out an angry yell. I was about to rush at him when a loud sound filled the room and for a brief second, Cyrus staggered as blood suddenly began to flow down his chest from a hole up near his throat. It took me only a moment to realize that Agent Mulder had shot him.

But Cyrus merely glanced down at the wound and laughed. Then, turning another sadistic smile to me, he hurled Jessie over the side of the platform.

"NO!" I screamed. Rushing to the platform edge, I watched as her body sailed into the darkness before slamming against one of the far walls and dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap.

She didn't move.

I did spot another movement as a small, slender figure made its way over to her. I quickly recognized Agent Scully as she carefully turned Jessie over and checked to see if she was still alive. I didn't wait to see what she discovered. Unconscious or dead, it didn't matter. Cyrus had tried to kill her.

And he would pay.

"Your life," I hissed as I turned away from the darkness surrounding the platform. "Is forfeit."

"Really?" laughed Cyrus. "And just how do you intend to collect?"

"I'll help him," answered Agent Mulder, his gun still trained on Cyrus.

"No," I said to him, stepping around to stand next to him, the platform control panel between us. For a moment, I opened my senses and everything poured in. The rats scurrying about. The wind outside. The sound of breathing and heartbeats. Mine, Cyrus', Agent Mulder's, Agent Scully's, and—.

I almost smiled in relief.

Alarm bells filled my head and I knew then that the sun had risen. Suddenly I knew what I had to do.

I had to look Death straight in the eyes.

"Put your gun down, Agent Mulder," I said softly.

Next to me, I felt him hesitate. "But—,"

"Put it down," I said simply. "This is between him and me. Go to your partner."

Next to me, Agent Mulder lowered his gun. "Peter—."

"Go," I said simply.

After a moment's hesitation, he turned to step down the stairs.

"Fox?" I called out to him.

"Yeah?"

I took a deep breath. "Remember the favor I asked you?"

He was silent for a moment. "I'll look after her."

"Thank you."

Turning back to Cyrus, I found him smirking at me again. "Alone at last."

I smiled back. "You tried to kill my wife," I whispered to him. "And for that, your life is forfeit. And I do intend to collect."

"Pray tell," he leered at me. "How do you intend to do that?"

I felt my own smile widen as a feeling of utter peace settled over me. "Very easily."

With that, my hand shot out and slapped against the control panel, against the button marked "Dome." Above us, the observatory dome began to open, revealing the morning sky and spilling sunlight down on us.

I felt my body start to burn.

Suddenly, the observatory was filled with screaming. Cyrus was howling in defiance and anger and pain. I could hear Jessie screaming my name in pure panic. I could hear Agent Mulder shouting at me to get back, get out of the way. But I remained silent, in spite of the fact that I was being burned alive.

I lifted my eyes to the morning sun, fully intending to stare straight into its heart; to look Death in the eyes. And I felt a smile cross my face.

My God, I thought. It's so beautiful...


****

Scully

Riley Observatory
4:55 a.m.


I closed my eyes, trying hard to stay conscious as a strong wave of dizziness hit me. Another's drowned Jessica's screams out. I forced my eyes open and watch as Cyrus was bathed in sunlight.

His whole body smoldered, and his face began to age right before my eyes. It splintered into hundreds of wrinkles, then the skin cracked. His body startled to collapse, he fell to his knees, howling as his skin fell away.

Mulder lunged forward, pulling Peter away from the sun. They landed about twenty feet from me, in the safety of the dark.

Cyrus writhed in agony, yet his eyes still burned yellow.

"Peter! I will see you in HELL!" he screamed, one last time before his body dissolved into ash.

"Peter!" screamed Jessica, scrambling to her feet as she broke away from me. It was then I noticed that Cyrus wasn't the only one burned in the sunlight.

Like Cyrus, Peter was smoldering. Mulder got up, slamming the observatory closed. There was a grinding sound above as the dome pressed shut.

"Oh, God...Peter!" Jessie cried, as tears flowed down her face. They were tinged in blood. She gathered her husband in her arms, sobbing.

I tried to stand, but the room was spinning. Staying focused on them as I struggled to walk. Another wave hit me, and I started to collapse. But I felt arms around me, supporting me so I wouldn't fall.

"Scully," said Mulder, holding me tighter. "Don't get up."

"I have to," I whispered. "I have to help Peter..."

Mulder practically carried me over to them and I immediately fell to my knees, beside Jessica. There was enough light still emanating from the candles to allow me to see him. He was covered in third-degree burns, skin charred black and blood flowed from the broken skin. Jessica held him close, rocking him back and forth.

"Please, Peter...don't leave me," she whispered. "You promised me..."

I could hear Mulder on his cell phone, calling for an ambulance.

Instinctually, I reached out to Peter. How could anyone survive this? "He needs medical attention," I said quietly.

Suddenly, Jessica snapped her head around. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!" She snarled at me, her teeth extended and I jumped back.

"Scully, the ambulance is on their way," Mulder said, dropping to his knees and pulling me back against him.

"They can't help him," Jessica cried, her features shifting back.

"Time," Peter breathed. "Give me time, I can feel it..."

"I love you, Peter," Jessica whispered, her lips kissing his forehead.

"Jessie," he said, a thin smile on his distorted features. "It was beautiful. The sun. I saw the sun."

"I know," she replied, choking back tears. I could not tell if they were tears of sorrow or relief.

I concentrated hard on Peter. Were my eyes deceiving me? His skin was sealing back together. He writhed in her arms, as if in pain and she held him tighter.

"I'm here, Peter," she said, as tears continued to flow.

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling nauseated as I fell back against Mulder.

"He's healing," he said, but not to me.

Jessica nodded. "Yes."

His skin was now whole once again, and the lines were beginning to smooth. She wiped the remaining blood from his newly healed skin. Her smile of relief started to fade as panic swept over her features.

"Jessie, I love you," he whispered, suddenly growing very pale. His hand reached up to the tendrils of her hair.

"Peter?" she said, clutching him harder. "Oh God..."

"What is it?" Mulder said, reaching forward to touch her arm.

"He's dying," she said, looking down. "I can feel it. He was able to heal his body...but he needs..."

"Blood," I whispered, my voice sounding distant. "He needs blood..."

My head felt heavy and Mulder was setting me down, letting my lie on my back. If I closed my eyes, I would pass out. I could see the darkness starting to envelop me.

"No," I whispered, trying to stay up. "I know what he needs..."

"Scully, lie down," he said, taking off his jacket and pillowing my head. "Just lay still. You've lost a lot of blood and you're in no condition."

"Mulder..." I breathed, eyes fluttering closed. No...not yet...

"How much does he need?" I heard Mulder say, stepping over me.

"Just a little," Jessica replied. "Just enough to sustain him."

I forced my eyes open, one last time. It was blurry, but I saw Mulder rolling up his sleeve.

"Tell me, what should I..." Mulder said, voice fading...

And darkness.

****

Jessie

Riley Observatory Basement
6:30 a.m.


Peter's breathing was getting stronger.

In the near pitch-darkness, I watched as my husband slowly recovered from his wounds and I thought about what had saved his life.

****

Riley Observatory
5:05 a.m.


Jeremiah had arrived just in time.

The door he had thrown open to step inside had let some sunlight spill in and for a brief moment, I panicked, thinking that somehow, the sunlight was going to reach across the observatory and consume us both. Thankfully, Jeremiah knew better and he quickly closed the door behind him.

Surveying the scene before him, his eyes quickly focussed on Peter lying, unconscious, in my arms. A grim look crossed his face.

"Right," he said briskly, striding forward and quickly falling to his knees beside Peter's body. "Agent Mulder, is it?"

Agent Mulder nodded.

He pointed to the slight form of Agent Scully. "Take Dana outside. On my way here, I heard sirens. Somehow, I suspect they're headed here."

"I called an ambulance for Peter," he answered.

"Yes, well, you'll have to understand when I say Peter can't take treatment from them. They can't even know he's here. But I'm sure they'll be more than happy to take care of Dana, so please take her outside."

The authoritative tone in Jeremiah's voice was one I'd heard a few times before. It was a tone very few people argued with. Agent Mulder looked like he wasn't going to try. Rebuttoning the cuff of his shirt, he turned and gently scooped Agent Scully up in his arms. Her body was limp as a rag doll and I saw a worried look flash across his face when he saw how unresponsive she was.

He carried her to the same door Jeremiah had come in. As he turned to shoulder his way out, his eyes suddenly turned back to meet mine. And it suddenly struck me how similar things were between us. Each of us was holding the one we loved in our arms, hoping, praying, and wishing that we would not lose them.

Staring into those hazel eyes, I saw a glimmer of understanding there. And I knew that he was thinking the same thing. A moment later, he carried Agent Scully outside.

Jeremiah turned back to me. "Jessica," he said urgently. "Tell me what happened."

Somehow, I managed to stutter out the entire story to him. I watched his expression as I told him everything, seeing the play of concern, horror, and anger rush across his face. When I finished my tale, he nodded.

"All right," he answered briskly. "I took a look at those schematics on your kitchen table before I came out here and it showed there's a small basement in this place. I think that's where you should sit out the day."

He gently picked up Peter. "Come along, Jessica. Quickly."

Outside, I could hear sirens as an ambulance pulled up. We darted over to a small door set in the floor, almost like a cellar. I pulled it open, allowing Jeremiah to climb down the stairs. I carefully followed, pulling the door shut above me, plunging us into darkness that I could still see through.

I could see Jeremiah standing stark still, waiting until I turned on the light. For a moment, he stood there, blinking in the sudden brightness of the bare bulb I'd turned on.

The basement was cluttered over with junk; boxes, furniture, and equipment. Spotting a beat-up, old sofa off to one side, he quickly carried Peter over there and gently laid him down. For a brief moment, he stood there, gazing down at my husband. Then he quietly knelt down next to him and softly stroked his hair.

"Peter," I heard him whisper. "Don't leave her. Don't leave us. We still need you, no matter how much you think we don't."

He bent down and softly kissed his forehead, almost as if in a blessing.

I watched all of this with a bit of amazement. I had always known Jeremiah had a fierce love for Peter, one that extended beyond friendship. He and I had often joked about competing for Peter's affections. But as flamboyant as Jeremiah was, he almost never showed any sort of tenderness. His displays of affection were big, grand, and very melodramatic. Nothing so intimate.

"Does he need blood?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Will you come and help me?" he said.

I nodded and darted forward to kneel next to him. Next to me, he pulled a small pocketknife out of his jacket.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Lift him up," he said quietly as he opened the knife.

I carefully slid my arm beneath Peter's shoulders and gently sat him up. His head lolled back and I quickly repositioned my arm, raising it up. Jeremiah had rolled his sleeve up and tugged his watch off and I watched in a kind of horrified fascination as he carefully sank the blade of the knife into the skin of his wrist. Blood immediately welled up around it and its scent filled the air. Hunger pulled at me.

"Be careful," I whispered to him.

"It's all right, Jessica," Jeremiah said softly. "I've done this before."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Once or twice, in a pinch, when Peter needed to feed, I've let him feed from me." He brought the cut up towards Peter's mouth. "All he needs to do is catch the scent of it and he'll know what to do."

As if in response to his words, Peter suddenly bent his head, his mouth covering the cut in Jeremiah's wrist.

"That's it, Peter," he whispered. "Drink."

I watched as Peter suckled at the wound, his throat visibly moving as he drank Jeremiah's blood. A moment later, Peter's hands came up and carefully grasped his wrist, holding the cut a little closer to his mouth.

I glanced up at Jeremiah and I found him staring at Peter, his blue eyes as dark as sapphires. It was a strange experience watching them.

Every time I'd ever fed, the person I chose was always an unknowing host. As much as I hate to admit it, no one has ever voluntarily given me their blood. But that was exactly what I was seeing here. Jeremiah was voluntarily giving Peter his blood, something he desperately needed. It had to be one of the most intimate acts I'd ever witnessed. And it wasn't the first time I'd seen it...

Finally, after several moments, Peter pulled his mouth away from the cut, signaling he'd had enough. His head rolled back against my arm and I carefully lowered him back on to the couch. He slipped back into unconsciousness.

Jeremiah was dabbing at the cut with a handkerchief.

"Now, if he's fed from you," I scolded. "You should know better than that."

"My dear Jessica," he said simply. "You certainly don't expect me to ask you to lick my wounds, do you?"

"Maybe not," I answered. "But I'm going to do it anyway." Taking his hand, I carefully ran my tongue over the cut. The taste of his blood burst through my mouth, causing me to shudder.

"Careful, Jessica," he said gently. "I think you're hungry too."

"Yes," I admitted. "I am."

He held out his wrist, where the cut was now healing up. I shook my head. "No," I said to his unspoken question. "I'm not taking your blood, Jeremiah."

"Why not?" he asked in mock defensiveness. "Bad vintage?"

I couldn't help smiling. I shook my head again. "No," I said softly. "You've given up enough of your blood today. You should keep the rest for yourself."

His smile faded suddenly and I saw his eyes fill with concern. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked gently.

"Maybe," I said quietly. "After several hours of crying."

He nodded his understanding, then he reached out, slipped his arms around me, and hugged me tightly. I clung to him for several moments. He softly kissed the top of my head as he released me.

"Look after him, Jessica," he whispered.

I nodded.

"I'll be back at nightfall."

I nodded again, unable to speak.

I stepped back into the shadows next to the sofa to avoid any sunlight that might come spilling in as Jeremiah climbed up the stairs and pushed the door open, letting himself out of the basement. He closed the door carefully behind him.

I quietly knelt down next to the sofa, gazed at my husband's sleeping face and tried to cry.

I couldn't.

****

Riley Observatory Basement
11:30 a.m.


"Jessie?"

The sound of my name was a simple exhalation of breath that was given some small bit of shape. But it was enough to rouse me out of my sleep. I lifted my head and found myself staring into Peter's exhausted blue eyes.

"Peter," I whispered, reaching out and touching his face, making sure he was real, alive; that I wasn't dreaming this.

"Where are we?" he said softly, that same exhalation of breath he spoke my name with.

"The basement of the observatory."

"Agent Scully?"

I hesitated. "She was pretty badly drained," I answered. I pulled myself up so I was kneeling next to the sofa, rather than curled up next to it as I had been. "Agent Mulder was carrying her outside to an ambulance last time I saw her."

"Agent Mulder is all right, then?"

I nodded. "He saved your life, Peter."

He nodded, then hesitated. Finally, he breathed one word.

"Cyrus?"

I sighed. "A pile of ashes."

Peter closed eyes as if in sorrow. "I thought I'd be glad to see him dead," he whispered. "But now it all seems like such a waste."

"Despite what you believe, Peter," I said quietly. "I don't think you're one to go dancing on anyone's grave."

He sighed. Then he suddenly turned to me, questions coming out of him in a rush. "Are you all right? Cyrus didn't hurt you when he bit you, did he? Were you exposed to the sunlight at all?"

I stared at him for a moment, then I started to laugh, but it was laughter tinged with sadness. I suddenly found myself on the verge of tears.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Just the irony of this whole thing," I sighed. "You're the one that lays your life down before a madman who would gladly stomp all over it, then you manage to get yourself charred to nearly a cinder and you're asking me if I'm all right?" I let out a short laugh and buried my face in his shoulder. "Jesus," I mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Jessie," he whispered as he stroked my hair.

"Don't be," I whispered, lifting my head to gaze into his tired eyes. "God above, don't be."

He smiled. "I thought you didn't believe in God."

I sighed. "Someone saved you and brought you back to me," I answered. "And if that means I have to call Agent Mulder 'God,' well, I'm sure that will inflate his already swollen ego."

Peter laughed, a sound I was very glad to hear. "Oh heavens, no," he said. "We don't want that."

I smiled and saw how tired he looked. "You'd better get some sleep. You need your energy. Near-death takes a lot out of you."

"Hmmm," he sighed, his eyes slowly closing. "So I've heard."

A moment later, he was fast asleep.

****

Riley Observatory Basement
9:45 p.m.


Ten hours of sleep is enough to get anyone rested up, wouldn't you think?

Then why in the hell did I feel like lead?

"Jessica," I heard Jeremiah's voice calling as he gently shook my shoulder. "Wake up, dear."

I raised my head slowly, feeling like it was filled with rocks. "Nightfall?" I mumbled to him.

"Yes," he answered softly as I sat up. Jeremiah's hands gently took my arm, helping me to my feet. I looked around for my husband.

"Where's Peter?" I asked, keenly aware of the note of panic in my voice.

"He's all right," Jeremiah said soothingly. "I've already taken him up to the car. He's waiting for you to take him home."

I stared at him for a moment, and then I suddenly wondered what Peter and I had done to deserve such a good friend in our lives. I reached out and hugged him.

Jeremiah's held me tightly. "Take care of him," he whispered to me.

I silently nodded, still hugging him. Then, carefully, I pulled away from him and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled at me.

"You're a good man, Jeremiah Adderley," I said softly.

"That's because I have good friends," he answered.

I kissed him again before I turned and headed up the stairs.

****

Naperville Water Reclamation Station #4 Parking Lot
9:52 p.m.


I could have gotten to the car a bit more quickly if I'd made the effort, but I was still tired. My body still felt like lead.

Peter was slumped down in the passenger seat of the convertible, his eyes closed. As I opened the door, his eyes opened and he sat up straight. Sliding into the driver's seat, I glanced at him. "Where do you want to go?"

"Home," he said quietly.

I was tempted to ask him if wasn't sure he wanted to go see Agent Scully. But looking into his face, I knew better. He was still exhausted, his body still trying to recover from the massive expenditure of energy he'd suffered when his body had healed itself. I remember how he'd once told me that such an enormous use of energy and life was the equivalent of a human running nonstop, 24 hours a day for a week.

We drove home in silence, both of us too drained to speak; me emotionally, Peter physically. Every now and then, I would cast a glance at Peter, only to find him sitting there with his eyes closed. Finally, halfway home, he suddenly curled himself up on the seat, like a child, and fell asleep.

I glanced down at him several times as I drove along, wondering. Only hours earlier, I had been holding Peter in my arms as he lay dying, horribly burned by the morning sun. I had almost lost him. I had come within a few drops of blood of losing my husband. And all I was feeling was a strange sort of numbness.

Shouldn't I be feeling more? Relief? Anger? Anything? Shouldn't I be crying in joy or anguish? Why wasn't I reacting?

I sighed as exhaustion hit me like a soft anvil again. Maybe I was too worn out to react.

I could see the lights of the city in the distance and I felt a bit of relief settle over me. We were almost home.

I was so tired that I barely remember the last few miles home.

****

Aylebourne Apartment
10:32 p.m.


Peter was still fast asleep on the front seat and he only grunted when I tried to wake him. I sighed. I would have left him to sleep in the car if I hadn't been so afraid he wouldn't wake up before morning. So out of sheer impatience, I got out of the car, went around to the passenger side, picked him up like a little kid, and carried him inside.

Thank goodness for extra body strength.

How I managed to unlock our door with him in my arms, I still haven't figured out. But once inside, I carried him to the bedroom and carefully laid him on the bed. I watched his face for several moments, unable to tell if he was asleep or unconscious. Then I pulled off his shoes and covered him over with a blanket. He silently curled up beneath the covering.

I sighed as I watched him. Suddenly I wanted to be with him, I wanted to feel his body next to mine. I didn't want to make love with him, I was too tired for that. I just wanted to feel his presence next to me. So, slipping off my own shoes, I crawled into bed with him and wrapped my arms around his sleeping body. Immediately, I felt better.

Why wasn't I crying?

****

Aylebourne Apartment

11:48 a.m.

I woke up to that damn siren wailing in my head; my own personal signal that it was daylight. Peter had once told me that every vampire had their own instinctive way of knowing it was daylight hours. His was alarm bells, some heard klaxon alarms, some heard alarm clocks or grandfather clock chimes. He said he even knew one vampire that heard a semi horn honking at him.

I had slept for over 13 hours in the same clothes and before that, I had worn them for another day. To say I felt scuzzy, would have been understating things.

I glanced at Peter and saw that he was still asleep. But I could see that some color had come back to his face. I sighed in relief. Even after he had been given blood, he had been so horribly pale that it had frightened me.

Being careful not to disturb him, I carefully slipped out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom.

I got a bad fright when I saw myself in the mirror.

My hair was disheveled, tangled around my face; the clip having been lost when Cyrus yanked it out of my hair. The suit I wore was stained with blood at my left shoulder, where I had bled after Cyrus had bitten me. My eyes were tired, with dark circles beneath. Death warmed over would have been a good description for my reflection. This for a woman who was considered "undead."

I quietly stripped my clothes off, dumping them on the bathroom floor, not bothering to be neat about it. Then, turning on the shower, I waited only a few moments for the water to heat up before I stepped in.

The hot water felt good against my sticky skin and I just let it pour down my body. As I stood there, I wondered again why I wasn't reacting to all of this. Was I really that cold and heartless that the near death of my own husband didn't cause me any grief? Why did I feel so numb?

I jumped at the sound of the shower door opening behind me and I spun around, my arms wrapping around my body in protection.

I found myself peering into Peter's blue eyes.

Immediately, I felt my body relax from its tense stance. It was then that I noticed all the exhaustion was gone from his face, his eyes. Instead, his expression was one of trepidation, as if he was unsure of something.

"May I?" he asked softly.

I nodded.

Having already stripped off his own clothes, he stepped into the shower with me and for several moments, we just stood there, staring at each other, letting the water rain down on us.

It was when he reached out and touched me that everything came crashing down. As he gathered me in his arms, the numbness, the shock, fell away, leaving me with only the raw emotion I hadn't been letting myself feel.

My husband. My lover. My soulmate.

In a blaze of sunlight and fire, I had almost lost him.

As we held on to each other, I quickly realized I was sobbing like a child, my body shaking from the possibilities that had just begun to sink in.

It only took me a moment to realize that Peter was crying too.

*****


Concluded in Chapter Nine