Chapter 10: Forgiven

"So are you are determined to leave Lachlan so soon, Miss Moon?" asked Peterson after a contemplative puff on his pipe. He was seated at the wooden table directly across from Colette, having served them both a hot breakfast of scrambled eggs and slightly crispy toast.

"Yes, sir," replied Colette quietly.

She was still sore from the night before, but when she woke that morning, fully rested, she discovered that her injuries had not been as bad as she had thought. Her cheek held faint marks of the vampiress's claws and her chest was still bandaged, but there was no sign of any injury to her right arm. If Peterson had not explained what had happened, she would have thought she just sprained it or something during the confusion, but she knew the truth.

"What about your story?" Colette winced at the gruff words, and Peterson raised an eyebrow. "You could write a book, you know, and a mighty fine tale this would be."

"It is hard to write a book on one's self," commented Colette quietly.

"That is where you are wrong, girl," corrected the old man. As always, his voice was muffled slightly by the fact that he had a pipe protruding from his mouth. "The true stories about ourselves are the easiest to write. So are you goin' to go back home to London?"

"London is not my home, Professor. It never was and never will be," murmured Colette. "I think I will join my mother and her family in France for a while—until I find something else to do."

As she spoke, a third individual entered in to the kitchen. Ethan was extremely pale but otherwise looking fine. All of the injuries he had sustained last night had healed, and a unsettling feeling came over Colette. Ethan gave Peterson and Colette a shameful look as he crossed the room to pour himself a cup of water. Peterson blew a smoke ring into the air, stood, and nodded to Colette.

"Well, I guess I will leave you two alone for a minute or two."

He limped from the kitchen, and Colette dropped her eyes to her hands. There was silence in the room for a long time before Ethan cleared his throat.

"I am…pleased…that you are well," he said slowly. "I feared…the worst…last night."

"I faced death many times last night," stated Colette softly. Ethan looked away, his mane-like dark hair hanging about his pallid face. Something inside her was pained at his guilt, and she quietly added, "And twice you saved me."

"I also almost killed you," he whispered. His dark eyes turned to her, large with concern. "Colette, I wish to apologize. I…I…"

Colette wet her lips and took a deep breath. "There is nothing to apologize for, Ethan. What is done is done, and nothing you or I can say will ever change that. We can only move on from this moment."

"I am sorry," Ethan said warmly. "I would never—never—want anyone to have to experience…"

Colette rose and crossed to him, her heavy skirts rustling about her. She tenderly brushed back his dark hair with one of her hands and peered up into his grief-stricken face. Not for the first time her heart ached for the young man before her, a young man whose mystery she had finally discovered. She wrapped her arms about his thick chest and pressed her check against him in a loving embrace. Hesitantly, his arms found their way about her slender form.

"I forgive you, Ethan," she whispered.

A few minutes later, the old man politely coughed to announce his presence, and the two reluctantly released each other. He was holding Colette's traveling bag in one hand and a small leather pouch in the other.

"Here, girl," he said as he offered the items to Colette. She submissively took them, knowing without words the necessity for the potion. "Travel only in daylight and find yourself a nice, secluded place to hold up at night. Don't travel durin' the full moon. There is three months' supply of Wolfsbane Potion in that vial for you, as well. Madsby was mighty generous once I told her it was for you, already had it prepared 'fore I even arrived."

"Thank you for your kindness, Professor," said Colette with deep gratitude. She turned back to Ethan. "I will be gone probably for two months, but if you want to…"

Her voice faded, but the meaning of her suggestion was clear enough as she stared up at the tall man beside her. He reached down, took her small hand in his own, and held it to his heart. His dark eyes were still strange and mysterious as he gazed down at her, but now it no longer bothered her.

"France is one of my favorite places," replied Ethan with a hint of a smile. "And I am overdue for a visit there."

THE END