A man stepped from the shadows opposite them. He wore an old fashioned costume; it reminded Harry of a period drama he'd seen on the Dursley's television one night through a crack in the door under the stairs. The man's hair was long and back and tied back in a neat ponytail with a black ribbon. His shiny boots glistened in the moonlight which was silvering the street with the retreat of the clouds. His face was as amused as his voice. The sensual red lips curved into a wicked smile as though the whole thing was spectacle put on for his entertainment. It was a face which was used to be entertained. There was something cruel and beautiful in it, thought Edward, his nostrils flaring as he took in the man's scent. Vampire, a very old vampire. Harry's magic shot out from him, towards the strange young man. In the same instant long, delicate hands grabbed Edward from behind and pushed Harry out into the street. He whirled to help Edward but the young man tutted loudly and shook his head.
'I wouldn't if I were you, dear thing.' He drawled and studied his nails as though the whole scene bored him to death. Then his eyes flashed to Harry's, 'you see Zillah is very fast. It's his age you see. Ancient.' The young man sniggered. 'And don't bother to fight young Edward; Zillah just loves it when they struggle. I should know.' He flashed a glance at Edward's attacker who laughed a low chuckle. Harry turned so he had his back to the wall, away from both of them. The man holding Zillah looked about nineteen but from the strained look on Edward's face, Harry he guessed this wasn't his real age. He was obviously very strong, though his slim build and long hair disguised him well. The hair was long and black, in the light Harry could discern it was shot through with purple. Zillah's face was that of a carved marble god. The long black lashes swept dramatically over his kohl lined eyes. His chin was aquiline and Harry found himself wondering if Zillah was a Roman, an original Roman. His mouth was fixed in a leer which Harry found disturbing and erotic. Zillah's long fingers flexed as Edward tried to move. Zillah held Edward with one hand splayed across Edward's chest and one hand tangled tightly in the golden hair, bending the neck submissively and painfully to the side.
'Now, dear boy, just answer me one question.' The man paused and Harry knew it was for dramatic effect. Harry nodded numbly.
'What did the Harker bitch want?' The man's playful tone turned cold. His black eyes bored into Harry, willing a response from him. If he's been a muggle he would have just blurted out the answer. Harry fell silent. How much should he tell?
'Zillah, be a dear and encourage our young friend,' the man called out. Harry turned to watch Zillah. Even though Edward's head was already pulled painfully back Zillah's grip stretched Edward's white neck further. He dipped his mouth, crimson and full towards Edward's exposed throat. Harry's chest tightened and his mind whirled frantically to plan an attack. Zillah's lips were brushing his throat and Edward's eyes were wide, staring at Harry. Gripping Edward harder still Zillah sucked painfully at the sensitive skin on his throat. Edward's feet left the floor and he kicked feebly as Zillah's powerful mouth worked at his throat. Zillah's hand pinned Edward tightly to him. Harry felt a thrill of fear and, skulking underneath the fear, a second thrill as he saw Edward, vulnerable and fragile in the hands of the stronger vampire. Zillah finished the kiss with a sensual, lazy long lick of his tongue. Harry saw it was silver with venom. Edward moaned. Harry dragged his eyes away, denying the rising arousal he felt at Edward's violation. The other young man, who had leant back to enjoy Zillah's' work laughed and his laughter echoed off the dark walls.
'Come on!' he shouted clapping his hands loudly, startling Harry and breaking the spell of desire which was threading its way between Harry, Edward and his captor.
Harry shook himself. 'She wanted me to do some magic, 'he replied, ' for Dracula.' He said feeling ridiculous at saying the name out loud and then, remembering the power of the storm, he shivered.
'Excellent!' the young man's gesture to Zillah was theatrical and Edward was released. He staggered forward. 'Did you accept?' he pondered for a moment. 'No, of course you didn't. Hence the storm. Marvellous.' Zillah had slipped to his side and the young man threw an affectionate arm about the bony shoulders and planted a long kiss on the full mouth which had been violently pressed against Edward's throat. They stood close together. Zillah clutching the young man's hair as they kissed, freeing it from its ponytail. The young man ran his hands all over Zillah's slim body. All over, Harry noted with surprise. It seemed as though the peril of the situation had turned them on. Edward coughed the sound hoarse and sore. The two vampires stopped their groping and fell apart.
'Sorry sweethearts,' the young man's voice was almost a laugh as he pushed himself back from Zillah's hard body. He wasn't effeminate Harry thought to himself. This playful exterior held a steel core, it was his act. 'We're just so happy that you didn't make a deal with that...' he grimaced, 'woman.' He ended although he obviously wanted to use a stronger term. He stepped nearer to Harry and Edward. They both stepped back.
'You've met Zillah here.' He winked obscenely at Edward, who would have blushed if he could. 'No last name. They didn't use them when he became immortal. And I,' he swept a low bow which suited his attire and demeanour, 'am Lord Ruthven.'