now I will save you."
A soul means different things to different cultures. To most, it's the thing that makes us more than just sentient, the part of us that lives on when our bodies fail and turn to dust. As Paen drove me home, I came to realize another function of a soul - it connected us to humanity, made us a part of a common experience. Empty as I was inside, I watched dispassionately as people hurried through the streets of Edinburgh. I felt detached from them all, an observer who found them interesting, but not particularly of any value. I didn't care about them.
With one exception.
Looking at Paen brought tears to my eyes. Not tears of sorrow or self-pity - I had shed the last of those crouched on the floor of Mary King's Close. What made Paen different from the rest of the world was his soul - it shone so brightly around him, giving him a corona of warmth and love that drew me like a moth to flame. I wanted to be close to him just to bask in the glow of life that radiated from him. Touching him, being pressed up against him made the howling inside me die down just a little, and warmed a tiny fraction of my cold being.
"How did you live like this?" I asked him as he helped me up the stairs to my apartment. "How did you live so long without going mad?"
"I didn't know anything else," he answered, his lips brushing my temple. "Until I met you."
Paen insisted I rest and have a cup of tea. "You've lost a significant amount of blood," he said as he tucked a blanket around me where I sat curled up on the couch. "In addition, your body is using up a good deal of energy to heal your neck. You'll need fluids and sugar to help regain blood and finish the healing."
I touched my neck, pleased to see that my fingers came away without any fresh blood on them. The wound was slowly closing, the bleeding having stopped a short while before. Tea didn't sound the least bit appealing. I craved protein instead. "What I could go for is a steak. A nice big, bloody ste - " I stopped, appalled with the image in my head, my skin crawling at the thought of what I'd become. "Dear god - am I craving blood?"
"I don't know. Are you?" He plugged the electric kettle in and rustled around the kitchen, finding mugs, the milk, sugar, and tea biscuits.
"You needn't sound so unconcerned about it. This is a big deal to me," I said rather snappishly (allowable, I felt, given the situation).
He shrugged and brought the tea things out to the table next to where I sat. "It's not a big deal to me. I am and always will be a male Moravian - I must take blood from others, or I'll die."
"Well, I hope you're not peckish now, because this diner is closed for repairs."
He smiled and went to check the water. "I'm hungry, but I can wait."
"For how long?" I touched my neck again. It was hot, as if the skin was feverish.
"For however long it takes. Here." He thrust a cup of heavily sugared tea in my hands. "Drink."
"Sam? Is that you - oh, good, you came back." Clare traipsed out of her room, her long silk bathrobe almost exactly matching the shade of the pink rose she absently carried. "Finn and I were wondering when you would be ba - Goddess above! What happened to you?"
Clare stopped in front of me, striking a dramatic pose with her hand to her throat as she stared at me in horror. Behind her, Finn emerged from her room, tucking his shirttail into his pants. He, too, froze when he saw me, quickly turning his gaze to Paen.
"I turned Sam," my lover said simply, sitting down next to me. "The man who had been trying to kill her was finally successful. Or he would have been if I hadn't turned her."
I gave both startled faces in front of me a wan smile, waving Paen on when he offered to tell the recent events.
"We will find your soul," Clare promised when he was done, my hand clasped between hers as she sat at my feet, the remains of a mostly eaten rose on her lap. "I have absolutely no doubt that we'll find it. Is there a soul repository of some sort?"
That last