England 1867 (May): "Passion is the quickest to develop, and the quickest to fade. Intimacy develops more slowly..." – Robert Sternberg

Things had changed. And it was irreversible.

She stayed nearby for a while – for some reason she couldn't bring herself to leave – even after their argument two months ago. Maybe she needed to convince herself that she still had some sort of security in England. And as for her and Fergus, they just didn't talk any more. In fact, Hal had hardly heard her speak since March. Gone was the flirting, the sadistic sense of humour and the wonderful, feminine laugh. She had become a vicious beast of a vampire. A silent demon; devouring everyone and anyone. She didn't just kill, she tortured. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Hal had often thought of the famous quote by Congreve and having witnessed the destruction she had caused in such a short space of time, it now made perfect sense to him.

Yet, despite her unstoppable rage, Hal still found himself drawn to her. Especially now Fergus was an irrelevance. But he rarely had a chance to try and confront her. And even when he did she wouldn't say a word. He would talk at her and she would stare back - the same look of discerning he had witnessed in the cellar twelve years ago - or maybe answer with single words like an irascible child. When their "conversation" was over she would leave.

And that was how time passed, until eventually…

He and Fergus, being the perfect pair as they were, had ripped through another unsuspecting house. Despite the reek of human blood which drenched the house, Hal could smell violets. That scent always reached him before she did. She must have followed them, because she had not travelled with them. The front door was open and shut downstairs with deliberate exaggeration. Heeled boots walked along the hallway and into the drawing room.

Hal abandoned the body of the lady he had just drained and strolled out to the landing. He wiped away the blood which was dripping down his chin, licking it from the back of his hand, as he made his way down the staircase.

She was waiting for him, reclining in an armchair. It was surprising these days to ever see her without blood painted across her skin and soaked into the fibres of her clothes. She was clean. She was ladylike once more; dressed in the current fashion and hair pinned in a complicated bun. His eyes worked down from her face to her neck. She was still wearing that fucking necklace.

Beside her was a carved, oak end-table and on it, a folded sheet of notepaper. He could see his name inked on the exposed side. A letter for him. How typical of her. He knew instantly that this was her making her final farewells. She was finally escaping.

'Are we going to take tea?' he asked cynically (and aptly considering their surroundings). Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Hal was certain he saw the hint of a smile grace her lips.

'This is for you,' she said, pushing the paper towards him. Then, she rose from her seat and walked up to his side. She inhaled the scent of pungent blood that stuck to his person and, just when Hal thought she would delay her exit, she brushed past him to depart. Hal grabbed the silky sleeve of her jacket before she could escape.

'You should stay,' he said. She shook her head, but didn't speak. Instead, she wrenched her arm out of his grip. His hand grabbed hold of her wrist the second time. Bone-crushingly tight. 'I mean it.' Her expressionless face became lined with anger but she did not physically attack him. Her voice was hard when she finally parted her lips.

'No.'

The minute that they were stood staring at each other seemed infinitely longer. Eventually, Hal had to yield. He could tell she wanted to leave before Fergus realised she was here.

Hal's grip loosened. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, in a civil, gentlemanly manner. Her skin was smooth, delicate and her nails were filed and buffed. He perhaps held her a little too long, but she did not protest. However, the moment he released her completely, she was gone.

She never came back.