Two days, after Connor had left, the vampires began to recover, in a minute way. Revenge, became the thing foremost on every vampire's mind, whether they had known and loved Michelle, or whether she was simply a coven member. The killing of one of their own... There was only one way, throughout the history of their world, that a murder could be dealt with. 

And that, of course, was murder. But it fitted in just nicely, with Stuart and Darragh's plans. Because, the Dedicators, had returned from viewing the body, with the information that no scent could be determined, from the scene, or from her lifeless corpse. 


"Darragh, you have to, there's no other way around it, you have to," I pleaded unhappily, my legs striding twice for each of his. 

"Lizzie, I'm not going anywhere, while this coven is at risk, and that's the end of that." He said firmly, twisting his body so I could see the very determined 'no' look upon his face. 

"But, it's Connor, Darragh. He'll never forgive himself if he doesn't get to say goodbye, for that last time," I said quietly, looking up at him, my eyes watering again. 

"And, I'll never forgive myself, if anything happens while I'm out, fruitlessly searching for him." He said, stopping before his door, and opening it with ease. "Besides, I wouldn't know where to begin to look, nor how I'd help. We've no idea what he's going through, I don't see how we could offer any comfort, in the least."

Walking into his apartment, I sat on the sofa in the corner, wrapping my arms around my legs, drawing them tight to me. He threw a concerned look towards me, and abandoned his mission to put a load of clothes into the washing machine, and placed them back onto the ever growing pile.

He walked over slowly, and sat down beside me, pulling at my legs until they fell away, then picking me up gently, and setting me on his lap, in his arms. He wrapped them around me, and whispered quietly, my hearing acute enough so that he didn't need to whisper in my ear for me to hear, yet he moved his lips closer anyway. "How would I forgive myself, if something happened to you?"

My heart was racing, beating violently within my chest. "I'm not sure what you mean," I said quietly, avoiding his eyes. 

"I would never, ever recover, Lizzie," He said softly, his voice reverberating against the skin of my cheek, tickling it. He was so close...

I turned my face, and gasped as his lips brushed against my cheek. He pulled away instantly, and we both stared at each other, in shock. 

I wanted those lips against my cheek, against my lips... He'd pulled away... If I could just muster the courage to move those few inches...

He rubbed my arm brusquely, then shifted me to the side. 

"Well, better get that washing on, y'know, I'll never do it otherwise," He said, smiling, and jumping from the sofa, leaving me there, shell shocked, and missing his arms. 


The End

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