--Amanda--

As soon as I finished the letter, the priest gave us an envelope to stick it in. It was yellow, aged, but it looked almost as impressive as the envelope that Soran's letter came in. I was glad to have something to do. Half-way through the letter my hand began to shake as a result of never having written anything in the past two years, other than my own name. But I finished it, and sealed it with a swift application of sticky saliva. It tasted strange and made me gag. I never much cared for envelope licking.

Then I realized how much my body ached. I didn't remember how I woke up in the night to feed from my father. It didn't occur to me how completely I belonged to him, until I began to feel the burning. It was a fire spilling into my blood and making me tired and wide awake at once.

The letter fell from my hand to the floor and I followed soon after, but he was there. His arms bore me up easily and guided me slowly toward the futon and set me in it. I thrashed at him, angry. Why can't I do things myself anymore? Why must I be a slave to someone else?

I watched him quietly and unceremoniously open his arm for me again. I wanted to shout, to tell him to stop, but the fire made my throat stick and my tongue leaden. The only thing to make it better was that stuff he was feeding me. I managed to get my tongue to lick it from my lip where it had fallen. Then I seized his arm in my hands, digging my fingernails so hard into his flesh that I almost made him bleed more. Growling, possessive, my jaw opened wide and drilled my slightly sharpened teeth into his skin.

His gasp of pain aroused me somehow. I liked it.

Bleed, you bastard, I remember thinking. I wanted him to hurt, for what he had started with Raziel. I wasn't thinking straight at all, but everything I was ever mad at, I began to take it out on him.

I felt his free hand pushing at my head. He looked positively horrified. I just held tighter, knowing he would hurt me if he had to in order to cease my efforts of draining him dry as a desert. Still he didn't stop me. There was only so much of his essence to drink before I felt light-headed. Dizzy with blood, I closed my eyes, my mouth falling slack when he pushed me against the futon. He licked at his wound before I felt his talons close on my throat. I thought he was going to choke me, yet I was wrong again. He felt my pulse, counting under his breath. Then he left me be.

"Are you better again?" he asked, looking exhausted and quite weathered when I saw him again. He reclined on the other end of the futon, one arm dangling behind the back.

"Does this happen often?" I whispered, feeling my mind shuffling to catch up with the events.

The ancient lord nodded gravely, a touch of a smile on his black mouth.

"I knew thirst before when Darius had me," I murmured, scratching my arm idly, "but never this."

Kain shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his elbow idly with his great talons. His gaze was distracted, as though there was something wrong with me, but I put it off at just him behaving weird. "You will find more often as the nights wear on, you will feel that my blood no longer satiates your thirst and you might be inclined to find sustenance...elsewhere. I encourage you to feed now because I refuse to allow you to become as dependant as a babe on my blood alone."

"Breast milk," I said disgustedly. Kain leaned close suddenly, and wiped something from the corner of my mouth. He licked the talon clean of the blood. So that's what he was staring at.

I decided not to pursue the topic anymore, since I didn't like the direction it was going. I felt embarassed enough as it was, and I refused to put that image and Kain together. It wasn't a pretty sight. I stood up instead and walked toward the stained glass, pressing close to peer through it as best as I could. I saw the swirling clouds of white outside, and the delicate sound of hissing as the wind blew fresh motes of it billowing into the air.

"Let's go outside," I called to him, formulating an idea.

--Kain--

It took quite a lot of convincing. I followed her outside reluctantly, the snow biting into my chilled skin. I was blood-starved and the cold only made it seem worse. The great doors shut behind us and she pulled me through the most shallow snow available towards the white-out into the parking lot of a retail store across the street. The press of her hand on my wrist made me feel less vulnerable. I could no more discern if the snow was burning because it was water or if it was just very cold.

A wall of driving snow moved aside as if it were a curtain revealing a disturbing scene. Amanda pointed casually, her eyes shining as she slipped under my arm, applying a little pressure around my waist with her small human arms.

A sound kept repeating through the air, again and again. Amanda pushed on, reaching out toward a pile of snow. With out large sweep of her arms she managed to move aside a bunch of it, then reveal the window of a car. An animal was inside, barking even more wildly to see a rescuer standing there.

"Help me," she told me, looking over her shoulder while she pressed her hands against the cold glass. Then, to the dog inside, she called, "Don't worry, honey, mama's coming to getcha, mama's coming."

I'd hoped she didn't intend to keep the dog, but she was love-stricken as soon as the animal jumped into her arms when I managed to manipulate the door open wide enough. Amanda wept bitterly for awhile as we made our way to the church doors. Somehow, deep in her small heart, however senile and broken it may have been, there was room enough to love the animal for awhile. She welcomed it longingly into her heart to soothe the pain that was there.

The dog was a medium-sized hound breed that had floppy ears, and a coat of brown and white. She named him Raziel.

--Later--

Amanda rubbed the dog down with a towel, while I checked to make sure none of the melting snow could hurt me. She was watching me; I felt her gaze burning, questioning.

"It doesn't hurt," I answered wistfully. "Although I fear if I tried it in the bath, it may result in ugly consequences."

"Do you mind if I name him Raziel?" she asked for the second time, and again I shook my head silently, staring at the flickering candles near the statue of the Christ.

We were sitting on the pews inside the church, and haven't went up the stairs to our dark brooding cavern. I flexed my talons in the dull yellow lights of the congregation room, all candles still lit. The good padre wandered around, making sure everything was clean and mumbling his phrases and Hail Mary's to himself. Such a thing I could have laughed at, but now I had too much time on my hands and my mind wandered. I hated waiting for too long.

"He looks healthy," Amanda said as she examined Raziel's teeth, his hindquarters and his bones. "If not a little dirty. If I find out who left him out there, I'm going to kick their--"

"Ah!" the padre cried. "Someone's at the door."

It was Mr. Grant. As expected, the man was normal looking enough. He even smiled at me - which made me more nervous than if he had run away screaming. Amanda held out the letter that she had written, neat in its envelope with Raziel running around the pews, collar jangling while he investigated all with his acute canine senses.

"Ah... the letter." He had a faint New England accent. "Thanks a bunch. I'll deliver it. But, don't you want to come and see him yourself?"

"We don't trust very many people. The letter explains," I replied in my most courteous voice. Diplomatic behavior was ever my calling in Nosgoth. "If he wants to see us, tell him to come to us and under no other conditions. Alone."

Mr. Grant blanched, bunched up in a formidable parka. Then he nodded a little and tucked the letter into his coat before turning and walking toward the sleight. Amanda peered around the door, blinking at the sight of it. "Wow! He really came in a sleigh? Who is he, Santa's little elf?"

"Who in hell is Santa?" I demanded, crossing my arms. Raziel at last came to me, and snuffled at my feet until I started to back away. "G-Get away, beast."

"Aw... he just wants to know who you is, dat's all!" Amanda turned to get down on all fours, gently head-butting the dog while he walked around her, whining. "Yes, I saved your life. You aren't too cold, are you?" She wrapped him in the towel after a swift application of magic that I detected.

I was curious to see what else she knew as a witch, but I didn't want to disturb her. Instead, I shut the church doors and barred them.

The priest arrived with a thick, soft plush blanket. God, the man was tireless. Thanking him, I was grateful to be warm, and I wrapped myself in it and retreated to the stairs with Amanda and her new Raziel close at my heels. The sun would come up shortly, and Amanda would want to make sure her dog is fed and that she was fed, and more or less everything was alright.

After Raziel went to sleep, Amanda sat down by the window, pressing her forehead against the cold glass. I approached cautiously in my blanket, before, with a sudden desire to dominate, I seized her around her body with it and pulled her into my warming bear hug. I squeezed until she squeaked appreciatively and exhaled.

"Father," she whispered. Her voice shook with the effort to speak it. "You're not like any man I would have chosen for a dad, but I didn't have a choice."

"Are you disappointed?" I answered smoothly, finding it hard to bite back the annoyance in my tone.

"I want my mother," she replied sadly.

"Do you still insist on lingering over her?"

"It's hard to let go when I loved her so much. How could you understand? You killed Raziel."

I stiffened. My talons sank into her thighs without a sound coming from her, but I could see the color drain from her face and her eyes get a sudden dulling in them as she directed her cries inward. "I did not kill Raziel. He sacrificed himself to give me the strength to fight. If you should like to argue otherwise, be my guest... but I warn you, your disrespect will get you nothing, do you understand?"

"Y-You're hurting me..." She closed her eyes, shuddering as her legs began to try and relax. I let go of her, watching her stagger out of my arms across the floor. Her wounds healed, but a little slowly, leaving twin puddles of blood at her feet. Then, turning upon me with enraged eyes like a bobcat, she snarled at me. "What kind of father are you? I was right; you don't understand a damn thing about me. I wish Raziel was here, and he'd be damned before he ever let you treat me like shit!"