As has become a custom between you and I, readers, I will apologize for the delay on uploading the next chapter and you will most likely scoff, knowing I do not mean it when I insist that the next update will be sooner. So let's finish with that ritual and get on with the reading of the actual content, because this is actually a really good chapter and I am very pleased with it.

I am very sorry about the lateness of this, but as with all of my chapters, I strive for excellence. I will not sacrifice the integrity of the characters and the story because of time constraints, but I do hope that over the holidays I will have more time to write and the updates will consequentially be more frequent. However I promise nothing, to avoid the aggravation of disappointing you when my deadline goes flying past. So as usual, I hope you enjoy the chapter and continue to check back for more. Also, to everyone who has reviewed past chapters, thank you! You're all marvelous people.

P.S. If you're wondering why my word choice or writing is a little different than usual, I just read Pride and Prejudice and have found myself talking oddly for weeks. You may not notice a change (I certainly haven't myself) but if you do, there is the explanation.

Chapter 9 – Until Death Do Us Part

Graverobber grimaced at the stench of rotting flesh that permeated the air. The entire city smelled faintly of it, but in death's domain it was overwhelmingly powerful. He held his nose and crept forward, watching the gyrating searchlights warily as he crept between the rows of crumbling headstones that marked the outskirts of the dismal graveyard. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional scuff of his boot or crunch of fallen leaves. These faint sounds did not faze him as they once had during his first few raids; he was accustomed to the pounding in his head, heightening every sensation, making the snap of a twig sound like a gun shot. In fact, he relished the adrenaline.

Shilo was only a few steps behind him, clad in a stunning outfit of skintight black fabric and a matching obsidian trench coat ending just below her knees at the tops of her black combat boots. Graverobber, although he'd relished the sight of her body beneath the dark elastic fabric, had insisted on the coat and boots, over protectively concerned about the cold. She was still huffing somewhat about it, even as they crouched behind the moss covered grave markers, and Graverobber had to give her several withering looks each time she felt the need to exclaim about stumbling over a rock in what she deemed "clunky" shoes.

She forgot all about the shoes, however, when Graverobber produced an impressively large shovel from its hidden location beneath his trench coat.

"You've been hiding that under there this whole time?" she exclaimed, thinking it impossible that he'd been so nimble with such a burden hook in his belt.

Graverobber cast her a look that clearly said, in a very scoffing, all suffering tone, "Amateurs!" He then proceeded to dig a precise, oddly neat hole in the ground beside them, pausing at brief intervals to allow the patrols to pass unawares. When he at last cast aside the grime covered instrument, there was a very shallow grave, about eight inches deep, revealing the plain wood frame of a commoner's coffin. Graverobber, while he began to skillfully damage and pry at the lid of said coffin, explained in hushed tones why, although the poorer rarely had valuable jewelry or weaponry on them, they were better candidates for zydrate dealers because of the thinner coffins. Shilo heard not a word of his whispered lesson, too enraptured by the motion of his strong hands, as he disassembled the wooden box without even the advantage of his eyes. She was infinitely impressed.

"So," he continued his lesson, "Once you get the lid off, it's simple." He removed the leather case with his various needles and vials, unfolding it upon the ground with utmost care. He selected a long, garish needle from the collection and approached the open coffin.


Shilo had refrained from letting her eyes stray to the body before, but now she was forced to look upon death again or miss out on the spectacle of his work. Seeing the body, as all the others she had come across in the past year, made her cringe ever so slightly; her stomach churned with disgust and the strange insistence that the figure before her was no more a person than a lamp post, merely an empty husk, void of its humanity. The corpse was female, a flabby sort of woman with sunken cheeks, sack-like jowls, and hair the color of muddy water. What remained of her clothes looked to be a red dress suit, and she was clutching a cluster of dead flowers in her left hand. Shilo soon found the whole picture morbidly hilarious and had to stifle an inappropriate chuckle.

Oddly enough, Graverobber approached the lifeless form with an uncanny amount of respect. When he inserted the needle into the lost woman's skull, he held the back of her head with a tenderness Shilo had never witnessed in him before. In fact, the gentleness of his touch unsettled her somewhat. Her unease was furthered by the snap of him smacking the back of his tool, forcing it further into the corpse and causing Shilo to jerk in alarm. Graves did not spare her a glance, too engrossed in his work.

As Shilo fidgeted uncomfortably beside the small pile of discarded soil, Graverobber gingerly pulled back the plunger of his sizeable needle, drawing out the fantastic glowing blue drug his patrons craved. His fingers now were firm, precise, no longer lingering unnecessarily. He filled six vials in quick succession, never pausing, or changing expression. Shilo stopped fidgeting, once again caught up by the utter control he exuded when he worked. She found herself unusually attracted to him, as powerful as he looked presiding over the graveyard, the keeper of the corpses. Silently, Shilo acknowledged that these were strange things to find appealing in a man, but, then again, her life had taken so many strange turns it was impossible to predict where she might end up next.

So distracted by the muscles of Graverobbers arms (his sleeves rolled up to keep them out of his way) that rolled sinuously with each move he made, corded and tough, she didn't notice that he was finishing up with the body. She was still staring dumbstruck, all her wonder and attraction spread plainly across her countenance, when he swung back around to fill his leather satchel with the glowing blue spoils. Shilo didn't have the time or the presence of mind to adjust her expression to one of careful indifference before he saw her, and when their eyes locked, hers were still wild and desirous.

A slow smirk spread across the drug dealer's face, reading her expression with the precise intuition he always used. Shilo, finally snapping out of her episode, attempted to stifle her feelings once again before the man before her noticed, but of course, it was far too late for that. Forgetting the vials and the exposed corpse, Graverobber swaggered towards her, a spring in his step she'd never witnessed before.

He stopped when they were mere inches apart. "What's the matter, Wallace, cat got your tongue?"

His breath was hot on her face, billowing up in a fog against the air of the chilly night. He smelled strangely pleasant at this proximity, a bitter and sweet scent that Shilo had become familiar with over the past weeks, one she'd grown to count upon. She did her best to avoid breathing, for fear of further clouding her head; she also kept her eyes firmly set on the ground, blush coloring her pale cheeks.

A rough hand gripped her chin, pulling her face up until deep brown met shadowed hazel eyes. And then she knew she'd lost the battle against him, against herself. Whatever was going to happen between them would happen, and she was powerless to stop it. She let out the breath she'd been holding, and let herself lean into him, her lips reaching up to meet his.

"Grave robbers on the premises!" the intercom blared deafeningly, causing them to jump apart, their lust long forgotten. "I repeat, grave robbers on the premises!" Shilo covered her ears, dashing behind the nearest tombstone, cursing herself for becoming so distracted she didn't think to watch out for the search lights. Her face burned with embarrassment at her stupidity and disappointment for the interruption. My life is far too complicated, she thought, looking over her shoulder to see Graverobber dashing toward her hiding spot, satchel in hand, a dull tinkling noise coming from the glass knocking together as he ran.

The night walker barely paused at the marker she was crouched behind, instead holding out his hand while whispering, "Come on, come on, run!" Her momentary confusion delayed them, but she quickly regained her senses and they were bounding through the twisted trees and crumbling graves, hand in hand, coats flapping like the wings of some strange bird.

Shilo spared a few glances behind her as they ran, noting each time the GENcops, their black uniforms and strange helmets bobbing and weaving between the rows, close on their criminal heels. Adrenaline pulsed through her, each time she saw them gaining, and she poured on the speed, wary of what might happen if they were intercepted. Thankfully, the landscape of the graveyard had protected them from the bullets and sleep darts that occasionally sliced the night, the moderate skill of the men and women behind them making it difficult for them to get a good shot while running full speed with the myriad of obstacles. And, though Shilo admitted to herself that she would most likely not be harmed if they realized or believed who she was, she didn't want the esteem of the city to be soiled by this incident. More so, she wasn't certain what would become of Graverobber were they overtaken.

So they ran, Graves a few paces ahead of her, his firm hand guiding her through a convoluted course that she would never have been able to navigate on her own, and certainly confused and slowed their pursuers. "You're…" Shilo huffed between breaths. "Really…good…at this."

Graverobber chuckled, not nearly as winded as the girl beside him. "Just wait until we get home, then I'll show you what I'm really good at," he teased, managing to leer at her, even while leaping the gnarled roots of a hawthorn tree.

Shilo laughed uneasily, her face flooding with color again. That was one development she didn't think she could handle just yet, for all her pride and banter. She hadn't had sex with anyone since she lost her virginity, and that had been one of the more horrifying experiences of her life, which was a lot considering what she'd gone through since she met Graverobber. She was scared of doing it again, scared of the pain, scared of giving herself up to someone so completely.

That was what she feared most about their blossoming relationship; everything led to sex, and she was convinced she could never partake of the act again.

What if he really does plan to show me tonight? The thought alarmed her, and she shot a terrified glance at Graverobber who, thankfully, had turned his head to check the progress of the GENcops pursuing them. But no, he'd only been joking. They'd only even kissed once, and things between them were far too unsettled for him to expect that now. But he and Amber Sweet used to… Shilo recalled the way they'd circled each other like animals beside the Zydrate Support Network. She'd been certain even then, in all her innocence, that they were hooking up. Graves had confirmed her suspicions later; so what if he thought sex was like that with all women? What if it really meant so little to him? What if he thought it meant so little to her?

She shook her head, attempting to dispel the impossible "what-ifs" that were plaguing her. It was not the time for her to delve into this; they were running for their lives after all. Later, I'll hash it out later, she promised herself, pushing those concerns to the back of her mind.

Instead, she had to focus on the pounding of her feet against the earth, the beating of the blood in her ears, and the whoosh of her quickening breaths. All of this needed her attention, while half of her brain was solely engrossed in the warmth and strength of the hand wrapped around hers. Infatuation is entirely unhealthy, she concluded, responding to the tug on her arm and darting around an almost invisible tombstone.

"We're almost out," Graverobber promised, even his rhythmic breathing becoming labored and heavy. Shilo could only nod her understanding, too winded to form words, certain that if she spared the oxygen she would collapse.

Then, suddenly a break in the rows of markers opened up, and the jagged outline of a wrought iron fence rose before them, giving Shilo hope. Her relief was soiled, however, when she made out the ridged spikes that made up the top of the twenty foot high structure. "Spikes!" she breathed urgently to her partner, motioning frantically.

Though he looked grave, his determination was unhindered by this issue. "Don't worry about it," he assured her, as clearly as he could. He tried to hide it from her, but she could see the concern swirling in his eyes. They were in trouble.

Still running full speed, they practically slammed into the fence, backpedaling only enough to prevent injury, then leaping forward with the rest of their momentum to the first crossbar. This fence was not as easy a climb as a chain link or uneven stone wall would have provided, but it was still doable thanks to the wrought iron cross sections ribbing the fatter struts that made up the bulk of the structure. Shilo was morbidly amused by the irony; the only reason they could climb this fence was because it was so tall it required extra supports, if it had been ten feet the GENcops would've caught them. But luck provided, and they managed to haul their sweating, gasping forms up to the top support bar. Unfortunately, that was as far as luck could carry them.

The spikes Shilo had noticed before proved to be just as sharp as she'd feared, and the highest cross bar brought her only to chest level with them. There was no chance of her swinging her leg safely over them. It's over, she lamented, finally giving up. They were doomed for sure. Soon, the GENcops would come racing through the line of trees and tombstones on the edge of the graveyard, see them at the top of the fence, and shoot them dead. The game was over, and they had lost.

She reached for Graverobber, having let go of his hand while shimmying up the fence, but found him not where he should have been. Confused, she looked frantically around, worried he'd fallen off. She found him hanging from the other, the outer, side of the fence looking expectantly up at her. "What the fuck are you doing?! Hurry the hell up!" he hissed, his face contorted in worry and rage.

"How'd you get down there?" Shilo couldn't understand it. What trick was she missing?

"I swung my fucking leg over! Have you completely lost it?"

Shilo's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. He was taller, much taller, than her. He could make it over the spikes without injury because of his blessedly long legs. He could escape.

"Leave me!" she immediately cried. If he went now, he'd be okay, and she could climb back down to meet the GENcops, and hopefully convince them of who she was before they killed her. Either way, she'd buy him time.

"What the hell are you talking about? Get over here!" he growled, losing patience with her.

"I can't," she explained, "I'm too short. You should go without me. There's always a chance they'll recognize me and not kill me."

This all seemed like a very logical plan to Shilo, but Graverobber was utterly floored by her words. "A chance?!" His face had turned a new shade of white in his shock and anger, and his voice was higher than she'd ever heard it before. "Shilo, I am not leaving you here on the off chance they might not kill you!"

"Well then we'll both die! Is that what you want?" She was exasperated now. Why didn't he understand that this was the best way, the only way?

A moment of confusion marred his face, then it cleared, an expression of calm understanding taking its place as he climbed back up to the top strut to face her.

"Yes. Yes, that's what I want," he told her seriously, not a hint of sarcasm in his deep voice. Every bit of his face, as he stared solemnly into her eyes, was sincere; he meant what he said. He'd rather they both die than leave her there.

Shocked silence enveloped them both, as Shilo's mouth hung open, as she tried to comprehend what had just passed between them. Tears pooled in her eyes as she came to the conclusion that he'd chosen her, just then, in the deciding moment that she hadn't even recognized, he'd chosen her. Despite sanity, reality, fear, self preservation and everything else conflicting with his choice, he would stay.

The tears spilled over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning as far towards him as the spikes would allow, emotion overcoming all of her rational thoughts. Graverobber accommodated her, stooping over the fence top so she could reach his face, letting his fingers entangle in her long, dark hair. She brushed her lips against his, softly at first, but soon kissing him with the same manic passion that had colored their first encounter of this kind. Their kisses were painfully euphoric, salty as they mixed with Shilo's steady tears, and regretfully sweet as they both knew they'd be dead very soon.

Still, they determinedly refused to separate, even with the promise of certain death heavy above their heads.

Tune in next time to find out what happens to Shilo and Graverobber!

Hope you liked it! Remember to please review! :)