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Chapter Four

The storm continued to rage outside my snuggery.  To my amazement the thatching deterred the heavy rains with near perfection.  This was not the first time the thatching held up to such a down pour, but every time the roof repelled the rain, it amazed me.  And tonight only two small leaks could be noted.  The first leak dripped inconsistently near the hearth, while the second was a steady dripping about a step inside the door.  I set the kettle under the leak near the door, to keep it from saturating my simple wood flooring.

After the kettle was set in place I looked over at Eau de Rose.  She sat on the floor at the edge of the hearth, watching the smoldering ash.  Her tossed hair stuck to her face and laid pressed to her head adding an intriguing appeal to her look.  Snuggly her knees were drawn up to her chest, exposing her feet and half of her calves, as her soaked dress was pulled up by her position.  A subtle quiver, a shiver,  proclaimed her chill.

I did not ask her, instead I pulled some tender from the wood stacks, adding them to the warm coals.  On top of the dry splinters, I added a few larger sections of wood and then three quartered sections.  With a steady blow the embers burned red.  Seconds later thin wisps of ribbon-like smoke rose from the tender.  I blew again and instantly the tender ignited.   

Eau de Rose remained at the hearts edge as I pulled a blanket from my bed, carefully folding it in half.  The fire hungrily ate the dry wood, roaring to life and offering a bright light and cozy heat.  I placed the blanket around her shoulders and she pulled its coarse weave tightly around her body, wrapping herself within the blankets dry warmth.  Quietly I sat next to her.  I ran my fingers down the die of her face, moving the matted hair from her cheek, tucking each strand carefully behind her ear.  In this manner, I slowly exposed her elegant profile, perfectly back lit by the orange-red glow of the radiant fire.  My fingers—two of them—lingered at her jaw, slowly sliding to her chin where they fell away from her face. 

Moments like this are rare and my torn feelings were ripping me apart from the soul-side out.  On one hand she was the perfect bait, simple, beautiful, subtle, and already marked.  Then on the other hand she had a right to know what was going on around her covered eyes—the nightly devilry remained concealed to her—and choose for herself.  Both options were gambles on Eau de Rose's life already was staked.  I had played her far enough.

"Monsieur?" her voice threaded the air with a lusted intensity.  "Who are you?"

"I am Alex."

"Only Alex?"  With a slight dip of her chin, she tilted her head towards me, catching my eyes with her own.

The moment of choice.  "There are several names that many know me by."

"Blaguer?" she stammered.  The passion in her eyes shifted instantly into an icy cold inquisition.

"I'm no charlatan, but I am not always what I appear."

Eau de Rose leaned away from me.  The stony glare erected a wall between us that no mortal eyes could see.  My subterfuge had tore down the delicate structure of our new relationship, which I had carefully created as an architectural masterpiece.  Do not be mistaken, my words and thoughts were a mirage.  And though I am forced into an eternal masquerade, my perception of reality and fantasy, truth and deception, are perfectly intact.

"Then what are you?" snapped Eau de Rose with unintended sharpness.

"I'm Alex..."

"I know that!" Eau de Rose sharply cut me off.  "What else?"

"I'm Alex-amun, though I do not use that name and hope that you never utter it, as you are the seventh to know my true name.  I am Alex, the name you are familiar with.  I am Alexis, whom you may never see.  I am also Vladimir, Taharqa, Lucus, Sebastian, Edward, Brutus, Jessenia, Sarah, Goethe, Phillip, and Rajiv."

Confusion, it spread across her face.  In that time it was not uncommon for a man to change his name.  Especially if he was of a criminal mind or had a past of the shady nature.  Clearly she did not expect me to be criminal—though I had murdered a man less than a day ago on her behalf—and so the host of names created the confusion.  To salvage everything I would have to delicately handle her inquisition.  Truth was my only ally, despite the fact that the truth was far more bizarre than any fiction I could concoct.  I had not spoken a lie to her; another precious fact.

"Why all those names?" asked Eau de Rose. 

Beneath the shocked, confused, and guarded look, I saw a glimmer of intrigue.  There was hope.  If I managed to play off the intrigue it may be possible to cultivate it, bringing it to the forefront of her thought.  With the matured intrigue she may become open to my unique nature, accepting me as I am, and maybe, just maybe, she would want to be part of this plan.  It was a long shot, but the only one I had at this moment. 

I leaned back, resting against the bed's wooden frame.  "It's very complicated," I said.  "The few I've tried to explain it to have lost interest, thinking I had fabricated it, or they could not grasp what I was trying to explain.  Fear also kept them from fully understanding what I was saying, no matter how desperately I wanted them to know.  Only two ever listened, understood, and accepted."

Eau de Rose's icy disposition softened and her voice edged back to its usually soft spoken, velvety sound.  "That complex?"  She did not give pause after her question.  "Is your life so beyond the ordinary that it becomes unbelievable?"

"In comparison to general society, yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

The intrigue sprouted, frowning with tiny, infantile roots. 

"And the two understood?" she asked.  "Who were they?"

"Mnemosyne and Cynthia," I started as I realized that there were a few others.  "And there was one other too: Pauline."

"All women?"

I nodded as my voice confirmed the question.  Only then did I realize that Job was the only man to know what I am and accept it for what I was.

Eau de Rose's eyes shimmered in the snaking firelight.  It took a moment to place the expressive shimmer—she felt challenged.  Two other women had already learned of the secret life, or lives, which I lived.  The intrigue grew.

"What made them so unique that she was able to achieve what most others could not?  What are you?"

"They were patient with me." I said.  "They were unbound by social views, which would have narrowed their vision, making it almost impossible to see the whole tapestry.  And there was an unnatural bond between us.  A powerful connection refusing to relinquish its grasp, binding us together, forcing understanding and acceptance; despite what I was."

"Were they beautiful?"

The question caught me completely flat-footed.  I did not expect an inquiry about Mnemosyne's and the others personal beauty and visage.  Eau de Rose was already comparing herself with the others.  An interesting fact I tucked away. 

"They were all beautiful in their own way and even in old age maintained a powerful vibrancy that was intoxicating."

Eau de Rose cocked her head to the side.  "Old age?"

"Mnemosyne died at seventy-four years.  Her passing was the hardest on me, taking years for me to recover."

"I'm sorry."  Her head sank to the floor.  "Are you a vampire or something?" 

There was a straining in her voice which I could not place.  How did she know of the vampire society?  It was true that the vampire's had managed to make their way into folklore and many humans had heard the stories of bloodletting creatures of the night which would seduce women. 

"Vampire?"

"Yes," said Eau de Rose, "there are stories of men who are powerfully strong and have a magnetic personality that is irresistible. You have a personality which I cannot deny and you have already proven your strength and your statement about Mnemosyne's age makes me think you are very old.  Far older than any man should be."

"I am no vampire," I said firmly.  "Though I am very old.  Like flowers which bloom only for a moment and then wither away and as the spring comes only to give way to summer which then yields to fall and the inevitable descent into winter, and as the day always gives way to night, so the dirge of death will almost always follow life and the cries of birth."

"Almost always?"  Eau de Rose peered back up at me.

"There are the rare men like Enoch who are taken before death has found them."

Eau de Rose nodded her head slowly, causing the hair on the far side, the fire side, of her face to fall down in a cascading wall of shimmering strands.  "What about Cynthia?"

"She was beautiful in her own way too.  She was simple and earthy with a passion for the creative and taboo."

"What happened to her?  Did old age claim her as well?"

"No, she was murdered."

"My God!" gasped Eau de Rose.  "I'm so sorry."  She turned her head away from me. 

Many have difficulty understanding the truth of each subverse culture running concurrently beneath the throng of thriving humanity.  Humans will always have trouble grasping the concepts of things they cannot see.  They will create stories and grand tales in attempt to rationalize the unbelievable, but they truly do not understand.  Always do they require concrete evidence to satiate their hunger for truth.  Rarely do they allow a concept rooted in shadows to take a firm hold—until visualization of its presence in a physically tangible form is observed.

Would Eau de Rose be different from the mainstream norm?  It was impossible for me to be sure, but I could make my educated guess.  She already seemed to possess the qualities differentiating her from the concrete fact requiring normality of general humanity.  She had even asked if I was a vampire! The absolute test of her humanistic nature and the answer to my self imposed question would only be answered after I try to open her mind to the reality of the mystic cultures thriving—hardly dormant—only unproclaimed, unpublished, and writhing beneath the sea of deadpan humanity.

"What do you know of the darkness?" I asked.

She looked back up at me, turning her head to face me.  "Darkness?" she inquired.

"Yes."

Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug.  "It's the absence of light."

"Anything of its inhabitants."

"Only the old stories and some occult allusions to the creatures that live there."

"Stories and allusions?"

Eau de Rose tucked her right foot under her drawn up left knee, rotating towards me, tilting her graceful head nearer.  "You know, the whispers in veiled superstitions and the rumors rooted in garbled tales, the tripe warnings of the lane pulpits?  They all have their own allusions to the creatures and demons that inhabit the night.  Blood thirsty vampires who steal the life from the women who have no moral integrity; the werewolves who roam the forests and towns preying on the week for food and sport; witches soaring on brooms and pigs; homunculus roaming the twisting by-lanes and the demons in vile forms hunting the lost souls who wander to unaware, all alluded to, but never seen."

Time to shatter her illusions and induce her into the reality of the night and establish the facts for her.  "Vampires exist," I said smoothly.  "There are several covens which thrive in Paris alone and there are others in many major cities all across Europe, Africa, and Asia.  They remain a powerful force wreathed in darkness and concealed from the inquisitive eyes."

"They can't exist.  That is not possible!"  Eau de Rose stopped and looked up right at me.  "A vampire killed Cynthia?"  The words tumbled out, leaving her mouth slightly agape.

I paused for a moment.  Rarely had I spoken of Cynthia's death and the vampire responsible for her demise.  A pain stabbed deeply in my heart and I forced the trembling in my hand to stay itself.  I took in a breath and put a hand under  her chin and lifted her head up.

"Monroe was its name.  He was a young vampire and had cornered Cynthia one night in London.  When I finally found her, her body was already cold and grey in death.  Several bite marks dotted her neck and long cuts marked her arms—the evidence of her fight.  We had only gone to London to visit an old friend of mine, and only planned to stay for a short while.  It was our third night there and I never should have allowed her out alone that night."

Eau de Rose stared at me a moment and her lips moved but her mouth formed no words.  Her eyes looked deeply at me, filled with whirring intensity.  "How do you know it was a vampire named Monroe?"

I let the leaden sigh escape.  "It took almost a decade to track him down.  And when I confronted him face-to-face, I was forced to withdraw, but not before he confessed to the deed."

"You saw a vampire?" asked Eau de Rose.

"I did."

"Vampires really do exist?"

"Yes as do several other creatures of the night which you only know in the tales and stories."

"That is not possible..." her voice trailed away.

I held a hand up to her.  "There are many things that happen beneath the view of human eyes.  And many take painstaking effort to ensure that humanity does not know of their existence." 

She sighed and looked away.

"I know it is hard to comprehend and understand."

"So you were forced to withdraw?"  Her voice was firm and resolute, devoid of fear.

"There was a powerful man named Lachesis who required my withdrawal.  He warned me of my anger and commanded me to abandon my vigilant quest for revenge.  There was nothing I could do but comply with the demand."

Eau de Rose almost nodded imperceptibly.  "And you used all of those names during the hunt for this Monroe?"

"Some."

"And the others?"  She shifted slightly, leaning back away from me.  The icy tone of questioning returned to her voice. 

"Some are related to my work and the others are for my personal need to satisfy the unending urge for secrecy." 

"Are you a vampire?"  Fear crept into her voice.

"No, I am no vampire."

"I bet no one has ever known you secrets, monsieur."

Those words stabbed deep, knifing at my heart.  Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes, though I managed to stop their formation before they spilled down my face.  Eau de Rose hammered the truth.  None of them, despite the closeness of the relationships and love,  knew of my dark nuances, which I kept secretly concealed.

"They knew parts of the situation and pieces of what I am."  I managed without cracking my voice.

Gently Eau de Rose's hand came to rest on my knee.  "I shouldn't have said that."

I could only nod to her.

She gave me several quiet moments, allowing me to gather myself.  After my second nod she continued speaking in her soft voice which had replaced her cooler tone.

"What are you and what did you used to do?"

The words forced a smile.  "Priest, blacksmith, farmer, spice trader, writer, harlot, sailor, robber, and other mundane positions."

"All of those?" she asked.

"At one time or another."

"And what does Alex do?"

"Thief," I said letting the smoothly out.

Eau de Rose slid her hand up my leg.  "Does Alex always steal women so easily?"  Her sly smile hinted at her playful nature.

"No," I laughed.  "Alex steals gold."

"A common thief?" asked Eau de Rose with hardened eyes.

"Not as common as one would think, but as common as I want you to believe."

"What are you?"

I shrugged.  "I don't even really know, but I am called the doppelgänger and a mimic."

"Okay.  And you steal gold from others?  Do you need more money?"

She missed the point of what I was saying, thinking that I dressed up like others and stole their goods and gold.  The realization that I was not human still evaded her perceptions. 

"Not always but gold and coin help to finance my long journey's and upkeep my homes in my absence."

"How far have you traveled?"

It was  time to start unveiling the truth about my nature and guarded heritage.  The process was slow.  It had to be slow.  If I came out and said too much to quickly I doubt she would understand.  And in her frightful confusion I could lose Eau de Rose.  I placed my hand in hers, which still rested on my thigh.  She turned her hand over and slid her fingers between mine, interlocking our hands in a rough knot.

"I have traveled in Africa, spending much of my time in upper and lower Egypt.  Specifically, I have stayed in Thebes, Karnack, Memphis, and Alexandria.  When not in Egypt I was in upper Nubia in Napata or visiting El Kurru.  After I departed Africa i traveled through Jerusalem to Babylon and then into Antioch.  I found my way to the Mediterranean Sea and went by boat to Cypress and on to Rome.  From Rome I traveled to Athens and took the long sojourn in the wake of Alexander the Great into India and Asia.  Where he stopped I pressed further and found the Chinese Empire and then moved south into Polynesia and not being one to favor the ocean, I turned back and ventured into Europe.  In Europe I settled in and gained residences in Venice, Rome, Berlin, Paris, Madrid, London, York, and a dozen smaller towns.  Though my largest estates are in Delhi and Thebes."

I watched as her eyes grew wider.  "How long have you been traveling?" she whispered.

There was little concern about my thieving habits and more concern about how long I had been acquiring homes?  The interest startled me a little and further separated her from the huddled masses.  I looked Eau de Rose over more carefully, allowing my eyes the time to see her.  She wore the clothing of a peasant, which did make her appear to be party to the masses, though there was a tugging in my subconscious, telling me there was more to this peasant than what I could see.  Maybe she played a masquerade with me?  Her hair was fine, well kept, and smooth; something you would not expect from the simple life of a farmer or woodsmiths daughter.  Her skin was soft and without blemish and her hands were unmarred by callous or signs of labor.  And her feet were peach-like with perfect toes and nails.  There was my conclusion: she was not a peasant as she claimed to be.  Clearly there was more to Eau de Rose than she was willing to express outright.

"I've been traveling a long time," I said as I looked back up at her eyes.  "How long have you been traveling?"

"A few days."

"A few days," my voice echoed back at her demanding more details.

"I left my home several days ago and I will not be going back."  Her jolting tone covered and underlying quiver.

"You're from Paris?"

She nodded solemnly, letting her eyes sag to the floor.  "Yes, my father is Marquis Jon Reage and I am mademoiselle Rose Reage.  In the interest of my family's position I was arranged to marry the older Viscount Lewis Pottier.  I hated the man and could not bring myself to service him as his wife.  Instead I took to the streets of Paris, hoping to find a way out of Paris and out of France."   Eau de Rose looked up at me with a tear streaking down her cheek.  "Please monsieur, I can't go back!"

This Eau de Rose was running from an arranged marriage, and this complicated things and at the same time simplified some things.  The running away from Paris made her more susceptible to accepting my plan and ploy against the vampires; however, her father and possibly her fiancé would be looking for her and they may have already tracked her to the Vates Tavern.  A Viscount would be well connected and depending on his lust for Eau de Rose, he may not be easily dissuaded.  He may turn the city up-side-down in an effort to find her.

Tomorrow morning we would leave for it was far too dangerous to linger in Paris.  The only complication was my need to make contact with the lycans in Paris.  A quick appearance of Alexis in Paris would get back to Vidar, putting him back on my track.  If I played it right he would follow me to London.  It would all start in London.  A few minor adjustments and shifting of the pawns and pieces and the real game would begin.

I took Eau de Rose's hand with both of mine and squeezed it tightly.  "You will come with me to London."

A startled expression washed over her face.  "London?"

"A problem mademoiselle?"

Quickly she shook her head.  "I expected you to throw me out for my deception and trouble," said Eau de Rose.  "I have no way to pay you for the hardship."

"I'm sure something can be arranged."  My eyes glanced down at her shifting foot and then to her eyes.

"Yes," she said in a frail whisper, which was far softer than any I had heard from her before.

Eau de Rose pulled her hand from between my clasp, untangling our fingers as she slowly stood.  She let the blanket slither from her shoulders and fall to a wrinkled heap at her ankles.  Before any words could come out of my mouth she slipped her dress over her head and tossed it on my lap.  Her femininity commanded attention and her perfect curvatures were outlined by the fire behind her, creating a silhouette, a forbidden fruit, on which my eyes feasted.  Her hips had the subtle curve and her round thighs parted ways, opening a fuzz filled gap where the lustful lips of her womanhood glistened in the firelight.  Wavering strands created a thin veil of hair cascading down the right side of her face, falling on her shoulders.  Unmoved, her supple arms rested at her sides.

"I offer you my body as payment," she continued in her soft whisper.  "I will serve you unquestioningly in all ways."

I could not tear my eyes away from her.  Her sex was potent and her delicate presentation accentuated her curving body, creating in me an exhilaration which burned me and consumed my morality.  Her pledge made many things simpler: with her blind trust she would put her life on the line without a flinch.  She would accept what I am.  And I would never have to doubt her.  The carnal presentation, though passionately played, was not for tonight.  There were too many things in the balance and the fewer complications the safer things would be.  And yes, sex would complicate things.

"Monsieur?" she asked with a quiver in her voice.  "Do you not like what you see?"

"Sit down," I commanded smoothly.

She dropped to her knees before me, kneeling with her hands folded in her lap.  With her head down her hair fell onto her chest concealing her face from all except the most direct view.

"Your body is a precious gift and a lustful pleasure for my eyes to behold.  Do not doubt your beauty again.  Do you understand what I am saying to you Eau de Rose?"

"Yes monsieur."

I knelt down in front of her, cupping her downcast face in my hands.  Slowly I raised her head, brushing her hair back, allowing my hands to linger holding her head in my palms.  Deliberately I leaned in and gently pressed my lips to her forehead and her head lolled back into my hands. 

"There is something I need you to do for me in London," I said.

Her closed eyes opened with a slow decisiveness.  "What shall I do for you?"

"On our trip to London we will discuss the details of what needs to be done."

Eau de Rose nodded.

The trip to London and an unknown task were a test of her willingness to serve and she had passed flawlessly.  The time to reveal my true identity had come.  I wished for more time, but there was none to be given.  Strange for me to say that; however, it is the undeniable truth of the situation.  If caught by the Viscount or her father, things would unravel very fast.  Of course I would escape unscathed, mimicking whoever I needed to obtain my freedom, but I needed Eau de Rose, and getting her out with me would prove more difficult.  As a logical deduction, to avoid the scenario would be the path of least resistance and complication.

I let go of her head and leaned back, resting against the bed frame.  She peered at me with intensely inquisitive eyes.  There was no way Eau de Rose could anticipate what was about to happen.

"I'm not your typical man."

"I know," replied Eau de Rose.

For me to claim that I was not a man was not my best choice of wording.  There were too many meanings that could be drawn and illustrated by Eau de Rose's creative mind and nature.  That was not my intention.  I sighed.

"I am not human."

She could only stare at me.  The statement was a blunt statement and could not be misunderstood or misinterpreted, but her confused look was absolute.  I remained silent.  I made my move, now it was her turn and I could wait for her.

"What do you mean?  You said you were not a vampire," blurted Eau de Rose.  "Are you a lycan or some form of demon?"

"I am not a lycan..."

"You look human."  Eau de Rose pushed for more information.

"I only appear human—it's a mask I am forced to wear—or mankind would kill me as an abomination."

"So you're a demon?"

"I am no demon nor am I any denizen of the underworld."

Eau de Rose's shoulders dropped and her muscles relaxed.  The heavy pounding of her heart slowed marginally, but still she kept her distance.  There was no doubt that she was wary of what I could be.

"Some say I am only an extraordinary human.  Others have separated me from mankind and claimed that I am of another race: that I am fey."

"What are you?" Eau de Rose asked again.

"Doppelgänger."

"And you only appear human?"

"Yes."

"How is that?"  Her hand reached out and gently touched my cheek.

There was no fear  in her touch and no trembling in her fingertips.  The fear which had gripped her had now dissipated and a sense of curious wonderment had taken hold of her.  She realized I was not a vampire or lycan and the thought of my demonic nature left as I claimed to be some new creation, a fey being.  The term fey was not foreign, but it was not one openly embraced.  The fey were constrained to fairy tales and hushed bedtime stories spoken to children to help them sleep and were often warm and calming.  A far cry from the truth.

"I have the ability to mimic the appearances of anyone I have seen, making myself look exactly like someone else."

"And when you are not wearing someone else's appearance?"

I sighed.  "Then I look like this."

With the words being spoken I allowed my body to transform into its natural form.  My skin paled to a white as my nose sunk in and my ears vanished completely.  My lips thinned to an almost non-existent line of a dark red tint.  My arms stretched and became lanky appendages and my hair receded and dissipated, leaving a bald head of pasty flesh.  I looked like an emaciated ghost, the decrepit remains of a ill-born child.  There was nothing about me that was human, except for my eyes, which retained the feeling of humanity.

Eau de Rose clamped her hand firmly over her mouth, trying to muffle her startled cry of horror.  Quickly she took hold of the coarse blanket and stood.  In an instant I returned to my Alex form and extended a hand to Eau de Rose.

"Demon!" she hissed.  Tears streamed down her face as her heaving breaths came shorter and faster.

"I'm no evil creature," I took a slow step toward her.  "I only look vile, but I swear that I am not."

Slowly Eau de Rose began to circle the table, placing it between us.  "Only a vampire or demon could survive the hit you took in the by-lane.  Why have you lured me here to play this intrigue?  Why do you toy with me?  Kill me and be done with it."  She pulled her hair back exposing her neck.  "Take me.  This is what you want."

"I'm no vampire," I declared firmly.  "I do not toy with you."  Carefully I stood up.  "I saved your life in the alley and brought you here when you fell unconscious.  You are free to go, but there are two vampires from the Vates Tavern hunting you.  Here you are safe."

"You're a demon!" screamed Eau de Rose.

I shook my head.

"You're a demon," she sobbed, "a demon."

"The truth..." I started to snap at her, but calmed down and explained firmly.  "Is that I am the doppelgänger and was asked by a priest named Job to assassinate a vampire named Thor.  That was in the Vates Tavern a short time before you stumbled in.  With the two vampires having marked you, I decided to use you for bait, a plan which I would have disclosed to you with more discretion than this, but you have asked me to be more forward than I would have been.  And after the little incident in the alley I was forced to bring you here and accelerate my plan.  Though while you were resting, I was confronted by a faun, fairy, and a sylph—all fey creatures—who requested strongly that I tell you the naked truth of what I am and what I need you to do.  I agreed with them and so I have told you."

She stopped sobbing and watched me with keen eyes.  "You said that I am free to go?"

"Yes," I said.  "But remember that there are also vampires hunting you too."

"I want to leave."  She stepped toward the snuggery's door.  "And I would like to leave now."

I sighed and leaned back heavily.  "That's your choice, but I will not be around to protect you."  My resolved voice sharply reminded her.  "It would be insane for anyone to take on vampires in the misty night.  The darkness is their domain."

Eau de Rose walked to the door and opened it.  For a moment she stared out at the drizzle, peering into the moonless dark. 

The soft echoing thunder rumbled in the distance.  The fury of the storm had passed, leaving the muggy air and misting haze.  With heavy clouds covering the arch of heaven, the moon and flickering stars were concealed, bring about a deep darkness.  There Eau de Rose stood at the threshold with the blanket wrapped around her naked body as she watched the shadows.  If she stepped out that door her fate would be sealed.  The vampires would come and they would overpower her in one fashion or another.  Eau de Rose's fear may bolster her ability to resist their commands, but she would be no match for their physical strength and cunning use of night.

"Monsieur," said Eau de Rose.  "I'll take my chances with the night and its fabled creatures of darkness."  Her voice still held the faint quiver, as she stepped over the threshold, not once looking back.

I had to let her go, because forcing her to stay would have totally broken down everything making it impossible for me to send her into a coven.  The only whispering hope I clung to was that the vampires remained in Paris.  It was farfetched, but it was a lingering hope.  If the vampires find Eau de Rose, I would know and then I would be forced to make a choice:  save her and kill some vampires or find another woman to use as the bait I needed.

There was something about this mademoiselle Rose Reage which imposed its fluttering sensation upon me.  She was electrifying and to see her body was difficult to decline.  It was intense and intoxicating, leaving me unsatisfied and craving more of her presence.  Cynthia was the last woman to create similar feeling within me.  I say similar because Eau de Rose affected me with an undeniable fervency, delicately touching my heart with her own and somehow managing to take hold of my spirit.  Only Mnemosyne touched my soul and only when she was near did I feel this powerful and this tender at the same time.  The pith of body, the purest marrow of my soul was deftly intertwined and formed an interwoven meshwork of delicate lace-like work, though stronger than iron.  I came to realize that Mnemosyne was the elixir of passion and the embodied essential principle of love incarnate.  I needed her. 

And now I needed Eau de Rose to obtain a foothold within the vampire society, but I needed her as a primal companion an essential partner.  For all I strove to be, I was: deficient, defective, imperfect, inadequate, under developed, immature, callow, mangled, and wanting.  I was only a part, a portion, a parcel, a crumb or shard or shred or sliver or lump, of what I was supposed to be.  It was Eau de Rose who seemed to complete me now, filling me, growing me, and perfecting me.  She was the other part, portion, and parcel I needed, though I could not understand the reasoning or rationalization.  But I knew I could not let her go.

I stepped out the door and walked into an ethereal being, a creature of an invisible nature and I staggered back drawing my blade.

"Alex!" Anrhod said coldly as he drifted into the light.

"Anrhod?" I questioned as I put my  blade back up.

"Yes."

"Shouldn't you be watching Eau de Rose?" I questioned.

"I was!" he snapped with a hiss.  "And what were you thinking sending her out into the night without any aid or weapon?"

"What's happened?" I pressed, ignoring his question of my judgment.

"Vampires, two of them.  They are named Phillip and Armondo.  They have cornered your Eau de Rose on the bank of the Seine River only three hundred yards toward Paris.  Their intent is murder and she has called for you as if she expects you to come?"

"Damn it," I muttered.  My preoccupation and thought prevented me from hearing her call for help and already I have failed her.

"No harm was supposed to come to her," said Anrhod firmly.

"She left of her own will and with my warning," I growled.

"She was your responsibility," hissed Anrhod with a powerful insistence.

I stormed back into the snuggery, drawing a skeleton key from my pocked as I moved to the only chest in the room.  In a single twist the iron locked popped open and I threw back the lid.  For a brief instant I starred at the contents.  Then spurred on by the urgency of the moment, my hand pulled out the thick leather  belt made of heavy cowhide.  The belt boasted several leather loops, four on each side.  The moment it was firmly buckled in place, my hands withdrew another leather harness and after quickly sliding it on I made sure the crossing metal and hide scabbards were positioned in a proper crossing on my back.  I withdrew two steel hatchets, placing them both at my left hip, sliding the smooth wood handles through two of the loops on my belt.  Swiftly I slid my fingers through the holes of the brass knuckles from my pouch and took a second one from the chest fitting my other hand.  Lastly I pulled out the second of my kudish blades and secured it to my back along with the other that was once at my side.

I slammed the lid down and headed for the door where I found Anrhod.  "Where is she?" I growled.

"North along the Seine River about three hundred yards."

I closed the door as I departed.  It was my responsibility to make sure Eau de Rose was safe and unharmed.  I need her.  My feet left sticky tracks as I meandered down the river carrying my hooded lantern, striding through the night.

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