The deepest dark always comes before the dawn. A simple rule of thumb. The deepest dark is now present, while Raphael holds Jessabelle.
"It is time," he says quietly whispering with a warm breath into her ear, brushing back her hair with his smooth pale hand.
"Time for what?" she replies gazing up into his eyes.
"It is time, for you to come with me, unless you would rather wait here for the police to come. Do you love me?" he speaks slowly, articulating every word precisely, pausing between each word for maximum effect.
She continues to stare into his face, taking time to look and think over every facet of his request. She lowers her eyes. "Yes I love you," she says so quietly that Raphael must strain his ears to hear. "I don't want you to leave me," she talks louder and faster. "Don't leave me alone, I want to go with you." She wraps her arms around him and kisses him.
"Yes," he stands. "All you must do is follow me. You now have the same form as I have." A loud report sounds on the wooden door at the base of the stairwell. Raphael grabs a hold of Jessabelle's hand and stands by the window. As if in instinct she closes her eyes and can feel her body stretch and flow.
Blue uniformed policemen burst through the door in time to see a thin gray mist slipping out the window. But the sight of the male body, lying face up, eyes opened and terror filled in death, his throat torn open viciously, but no blood as if someone had sucked him dry, catches their attention more.
Jessabelle feels her body tighten and sees Raphael's mist shape into a delicate black bat with short fangs and sharp radar. He leads her a few miles beyond the city limits. A rugged mountain, inaccessible by someone walking by foot lies ahead of them, a dark pinnacle capped with a rustic castle-like mansion. As the two bats fly closer, a group of smaller bats fly by with a sharp whisk of wings. Raphael and Jessabelle land, him a little ways ahead, nearer to the mansion, his back to her, they transform and remain where they stand for a moment.
"They are normal bats," he says deeply, knowing her unspoken question. "You are the only one like me here." He turns towards her, looks at her slowly and deeply then, taking her hand in his, leads her into the castle as the last few stars disappear and the sickeningly bright sun comes to take the envious moon's celestial spot.
The inside of the castle is darker than a moonless night. Very few candles are lit. Eccentric artwork lines the many halls and stairwells from end to end. Raphael brings his eternal guest into the library, sits down in a soft chair and brings his hand down to Jessabelle's waist as she straddles his lap lightly, facing him. Minutes pass before a word is spoken and the silence is all but that of a sealed tomb, awaiting a robber in the night.
"Your transformation is not quite complete, my dear." Raphael's voice speaks quietly, quivering with desire and passion. "There is one thing you must yet do."
"I'll do anything just as long as I can be with you," Jessabelle cries placing one hand on Raphael's chest and one on his neck.
"You must learn to feed. Once you make your first kill, then, as you taste the blood, your transformation will be total. Do you want me to escort you tomorrow night? Or would you like to wait a while? I will wait for you till forever ends." Raphael's smooth caress slides down the zipper of Jessabelle's black dress.
"I will go tomorrow night. I do not want to make you wait that long even if we have eternity. You may come, your presence is soothing." Her full auburn hair falls loosely around her face.
Raphael runs his smooth hand across her cool, soft skin, snaking his fingers over her spine. He picks his bride, Jessabelle, up gently in his arms, the line between his lips and hers becomes indiscernible. Raphael's strong hold carries the woman up a short case of winding metal stairs that are stationed in the center of the library, and lead to a dark, windowless room.2 He closes the door behind them, still as if the two are of one person, and parts the dark, black, soft, velvet curtains draping an ancient bed. He lays her down, they again become two separate people, and he closes the curtains framing the bed as he snuffs out one remaining unflickering candle. The folds of darkness enclose upon the lover's night as the silent shadows watch intently, seeing their new accompaniment.
