decor within? Was it not possible to appreciate strains of music which the ear could not, in truth, even process into a coherent whole?

I’m falling in love with him, she thought, and in love with what he is. And though she felt an almost inevitable tragedy in this, as if some instinctive part of her warned against so seemingly easy an answer, she could not deny the truth of her statements. Abraham be damned; Theroen was not like him, never would be. They did not have to hate. It was not a requirement, not set in stone. She’d seen Theroen’s face as she pressed her blood to his mouth. Not greed, nor hunger, nor hate, but only an overwhelming desire.

Love? Or at least the beginnings of it, as she was now feeling herself? Two thought so, yes, and that was enough.

The click of a latch. Two felt no fear. Not Abraham, then. Theroen, of course. She turned, sitting up before he could speak. She didn’t want him to speak. Not now. Catching him in her bright green eyes, now luminescent from the vampiric blood in her veins, as he had caught her so many times in his own.

An interminable moment, but sweet, as they looked into each other’s eyes. Theroen’s face held that same gentle smile with which he seemed always to look upon her. You are all I have wanted, his eyes told her, since the first time I beheld you. Two felt this echo in her own soul, and she broke out into a grin.

She let the sheets pool in her lap. Bare skin, bare breasts, no shame. She laughed as his eyes flicked down momentarily, and back again to her face. It did not anger her, this look. It brought her only the joy that comes with being desired.

“Lovely,” he said through his smile, and she knew he meant not only her breasts, but everything else. Filled with warmth, she closed her eyes, lay back, enjoyed the feeling of silk on skin.

Theroen sat next to her in a large wooden chair with a padded cloth back, as relaxed as ever she had seen him, a posture which still might have looked formal next to a normal man. He was composed, so composed. She wondered if it was the effect of immortality.

He smiled, shook his head. “No.”

“Just you?”

“Just me.”

She looked up at him from the bed, let her eyes tell him that if the chair was uncomfortable, other arrangements could be made. Theroen laughed out loud.

“Oh, if only I could, Two. But I haven’t the time that I’d want to spend.”

Vague disappointment, but she accepted it. They had forever, perhaps.

“Perhaps?”

“Are you reading my mind?” She questioned, a mischievous grin surfacing, pretending to be offended.

“Your mind is a fascinating place. I find it hard to draw away.”

“Where are you going? Why can’t you stay with me?” She had meant it as another playful question; the spurned, jealous lover. Another game, nothing more, but she saw a momentary flick of something on Theroen’s face. Frustration? Anger?

He sighed, examined his fingernails. “Abraham requires my services. I would do this thing for him, particularly now.”

“Why?”

Theroen looked up at her, the expression of one in love stamped clearly on his face, eyes locked again with hers.

“He didn’t kill you.”

“Did you think he would?”

“I did not know.”

Theroen looked away from her, ran a hand through his hair. It seemed that this admission, more than any other, hurt him. Two tried to understand the reason for his pain. She reached out, touched his hand, drew it between her breasts, held it against her heart.

“I did not know. Two. I have not feared anything, at all, in centuries. Not even Abraham. Nothing alive, nothing undead. Not until we approached his chamber. And to see you in his arms? Under his spell? Terror. Terror.”

“He couldn’t hurt me, in the end, you know. That’s what he wanted, and I didn’t give it to him. I wasn’t thinking of him at all.”

“No?”

“No.” She sat up, leaned forward, kissed his lips. “I was thinking about someone else.”

Theroen touched her cheek, touched her hair, held her head in his hands, kissed the skin of her forehead.

“That comforts me,” he said at last, “and you make me regret heeding Abraham’s summons this night. There is much else I would rather be doing.”

Two smiled at this, so like her own thoughts.

“Go, then. Do what he wants, and come back soon.”

“So quick to dismiss me?” It was Theroen’s turn, mock hurt in his voice,