Author Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed my story, I'm glad so many ppl like it! And a special thanks to Rinthoroniel, whose reviews are always nice. There's nothing like good reviews to keep the spirits up. I hope everyone will continue to like my story too.

The next night, Grace was sprawled on one of the couches, bored. She was waiting for Deacon, who'd vanished about ten minutes ago saying that he'd be back soon. Grace wanted to be alone now, left to her own thoughts, and had already stared Mercury out of the room. She didn't like her and at first had been jealous. She didn't like Quinn either, and only put up with them because they were 'friends' of Deacon.

She had the feeling that it was the same for them too. A moment later, who else then Quinn walked into the room. She stared at him as he sat down on the couch opposite her. And when he returned her stare, she almost laughed. She tilted her head to the side so her hair fell across her face, leaving only her eyes visible. For a few moments, that's how they remained-staring at each other. The silence becoming too much for her to handle, Grace spoke.

"Yes?" she said, forcing a smile, in an attempt to be friendly.

And for another minute, he continued to just stare at her. "Nothin'," Quinn said. But then he added, "So you're Deac's new girl."

Her false smile faltered, "What do you mean?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"You're not the first pretty young thing to 'capture' his attention," he said.

"So?" she said with a shrug, acting indifferent.

"And you won't be the last," he continued with a teasing smirk.

Annoyed, and yet worried, Grace sat up, her eyes flashing an eerie electric blue for one second. "Are you trying to bother me?" she asked.

"No," Quinn said with mock seriousness, "Just telling you the truth."

"Well I don't care," Grace said, starting to stand up to leave, "I-I. He-"

"-Loves you?" he cut her off, laughing, "He doesn't love you."

Grace sat back down hard, blinking. "Liar," she whisper-shouted.

"He doesn't," he repeated, smirking as though this were a game, "He's using you-"

"No," Grace interrupted him, getting to her feet, "You're lying." She felt tears come to her eyes as she fled the room.

She hid out on the balcony, a few feet from the reflective pools of water. Alone. She sat curled up into a ball, head on her knees, not sure if she should be crying or laughing. Her decision seemed some what bent towards tears as every now and then her breath would hitch in her chest. Grace felt like it was forever that she sat there in silence before she heard the whisper of footsteps. She knew who it was at once, his familiar scent clouding her senses.

He kneeled beside her, saying softly, "Grace?"

When she didn't respond, or even acknowledge him, Deacon put a hand on her chin and gently turned her head.

Grace saw the annoyance in his expression, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. "What's wrong?"

Swallowing hard, Grace took a moment to compose herself. "Earlier, I was talking to Quinn…" she paused as he took her hands and pulled her carefully to her feet. "And…" she hesitated a second, then told him what Quinn had said to her.

"But it isn't true, right?" Grace asked anxiously, "You-"

She was stopped short when Deacon kissed her tenderly. An excited shiver ran down her spine and her legs trembled. When their lips parted, Grace was breathless, and for the first time in her life, rendered speechless. She could only gaze at him, her eyes searching his. A feeling she'd never felt before was swirling within her and the connection between them was stronger now then ever.

Deacon smiled at her reaction and said, "Still worried?"

Not trusting her voice, Grace merely shook her head, a faint smile on her face.

Looking into her eyes, he was silent for a moment. "Have you ever heard of La Magra?" he asked at last.

Surprised by the question, Grace thought hard for a minute. Why did it sound so familiar? Again she shook her head.

"La Magra, the Blood God," Deacon said, "Supposed to be a myth."

As he spoke, he led her to the edge of the balcony where she leaned against the railing and listened to him intently.

"But it's not." He paused, noticing the uncertainty in her eyes, "I know how to summon La Magra. And if it works, I'd be the ruler of the vampires. And humans. Not just controlling New York, but the whole fing world."

Grace blinked, her heart skipping a beat. What was he saying? Did he mean that…? She saw the devious gleam in his eyes as he looked out over the city.

He turned back to her. "You'd be at my side," Deacon said, leaning closer to her, "Always."

And then he kissed her again.

The next night, Grace's mind was still spinning with all that Deacon had told her. Summoning the Blood God? Controlling the world? It still made her heart flutter to think that Deacon had asked her to be with him. Not really asked her. More like he told her. Not that she would have said no. How could she? When the time came, what would that, like, make her? A queen? A goddess of sorts? Giggling silently, Grace shook her head. It was too confusing to think about.

But her vision was still worrying her. She hadn't told Deacon everything she had seen; she couldn't bring herself to. But after what he'd told her…she was more and more afraid. She knew now about La Magra, about the Temple of Eternal Night, about Blade. And they were all in her vision. But so was Deacon.

She wandered down the empty hallways, feeling a little sad. Thinking about her vision always made her sad now. And scared. She could hear the calming voices of the whales in her mind and smiled a little at how they could almost always manage to soothe her when she was upset.

Grace realized that she'd vanished off almost fifteen minutes ago, having told Deacon that she just needed a little time to clear her mind. Fifteen minutes she'd been away from him, and already it had been too long for her. Turning in the direction she'd come, she headed back.

Finally, she emerged from the hallways. Looking around, she spotted Deacon out on the open balcony. Weaving in between the couches and glittering pools of water, Grace walked over to him. The cool night air caressed her skin as she stepped out onto the balcony. Deacon turned to her as she came up beside him. With a mischevious grin, he took her hands and spun her around until she was dizzy.

"Deacon," she laughed, "Stop, please!"

And he did. Grace stumbled, and he put his hands on her hips to steady her. Her heart sped up, and she looked away for a second.

"What is this…connection…I feel with you?" Grace asked in a whisper.

The look in his eyes told her that he felt it too, but his expression said he knew something she didn't.

"Was wondering when you were going to ask," Deacon said, and Grace looked at him curiously. "The vampire that turned you…"

Grace had the sudden feeling that she knew what he was going to say before he actually did.

"…Is me," he said.

"Is you…" Grace echoed in a whisper. For a moment, she was silent, a bit surprised. Deacon was…? That explained the connection between them.

"But why can't I remember that night?" She asked.

'Why didn't I remember you? Why do I have these visions now? And why…why do I love you so much?' she spoke none of these questions aloud, but kept them to herself.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Grace was silent again. This was…too much for her all at once. First La Magra and Blade, now this.

"Do you want to go out?" Deacon asked her, changing the subject.

Grace blinked, her mind still racing. "That'd be cool," she said with a small smile.