While Tom assisted Hal with his personal needs Lena showed Alex how to handle the bola, which involved thinking or speaking her intent clearly before letting it go in the right direction. Alex took her into the garden so Lena could teach her an overhand and underhand throw, both of which she practiced on an empty chair. It was just a matter of holding the end with the single metal shot and twirling the length of the rope until the two shots at the forked end were moving smoothly together. A quick release and it was done. Of course it helped that the bola automatically went where the thrower told it to go.

Lena explained that Alex could also simply wrap the bola around Hal rather than throw it at him, but Alex didn't take to that idea. Lena feared that Alex was enjoying the lesson a bit too much. She agreed to let the young ghost keep the weapon indefinitely, but made sure to leave a contact number with Tom so he could call her in case Alex left or went through her door. Tom didn't want his friend permanently bound by something they couldn't remove.

Upon being released Hal had immediately showered and changed clothes, after which he cleaned the bathroom. He did a round of press-ups and sit-ups followed by 30 minutes on the stationary bicycle, all of which helped his cramped muscles stretch and feel more like normal. When he had finished his workout Hal took another shower and shaved his beard. Finally he dressed himself in the most comfortable clothes he could find and Tom escorted him downstairs.

Hal felt safe enough to eat a piece of toast while watching through the window as Alex practiced using the bola. He avoided looking at Lena; he was uncomfortable even thinking about her after the kiss he had forced on her while controlled by the vampire. Hal recognized the vampire curse as a separate entity living in him; good Hal fought its influence and bad Hal reveled in it. He had never felt it push him further than he was willing to go, however, until today. Assaulting a Seraphin Nepos, even with a kiss, was asking for death, and Hal was far too smart to ever make that mistake.

Still, she had kissed him right back, and for a moment she had felt familiar to him, like a long-ago lover. He shook off the notion and quietly washed up his dishes and returned them to the pantry.

He didn't quite understand what she had done to him, but the effect was apparent by the fact that he hadn't once considered escaping or killing someone while under Tom's friendly guard. How ironic that a member of the species he had tried to wipe off the face of the earth had in turn helped him and his friends. He was in her debt.

"All right Tom, I'm ready for the chair," Hal said to his friend.

"Are you feelin' alright, mate?" Tom asked warily. Hal didn't typically volunteer for the chair.

"Yes, I'm still stable, but beginning to feel a little less so. Better safe than sorry." Hal wanted to get safely tied down before the Hal who would protest against it reappeared. Doing so would save everyone a lot of misery. He stood patiently as Alex wrapped the bola around him, and then seated himself for further strapping in. Lena watched quietly from across the room. She made no further attempts to be close to him.

It was late evening before Lena got away from Honolulu Heights. It would have been less late if Alex hadn't demanded a ride in the Audi, and in truth Lena loved showing it off. Alex had a fine appreciation of great cars.

It had been a challenge for Lena to keep her composure for the few hours that she spent in the house because she felt the curse still working inside her. She should have, for her own safety, left quickly to finish the process of ejecting it from her. But she had agreed to stay, so she did. Seraphin Nepos healed by drawing pain and injury out of people and into their own bodies, and then using their regenerative power to restore themselves. Spiritual healing, or exorcism, was trickier for Seraphin Nepos; it involved drawing a curse into themselves and giving their divinity, or core of goodness, the chance to defeat and disperse it. Very few Seraphins dared to try it, and those who did were careful to avoid the unbreakable curses: werewolf and vampire.

Past attempts to remove the wolf from its hosts had triggered the werewolf transformation as the curse fought to maintain control. Unfortunately the forced transformations usually led to the serious injury or death of the person who carried the wolf without affecting the curse itself. In the history of vampirism the curse had never been successfully removed from a host. In all cases where it had been attempted the exorcist had been killed in the attempt.

Thanks to Yorke's abandonment of their relationship and debauched destruction of her people, Lena's core of goodness had been shaken, weakened, and she hadn't attempted an exorcism in centuries. Instead, when required, she had chosen to draw off some of the power of a curse temporarily, a trick she had learned from Persephone* long ago. She had never had a curse actively attack her until today. Its ability to do so shook Lena to her core.

Lena concentrated on the road until she finally reached the M4 and could let her Audi stretch and roar. Her plan was to return to her suite in London and finish battling the curse on her own turf.

She turned up the volume on Adele and sang along; music wasn't one of her best gifts, but she loved it anyway. Lena needed music to keep her mind off of Hal, and the kiss, and the bloodlust that nearly consumed her. It worked until she heard herself singing "The scars of your love, they leave me breathless, I can't help feeling, we could have had it all…SHIT!" She slammed her hands on the steering wheel and veered into the Chieveley service area, screeching to a halt in a back corner, near the edge of the pavement.

"Oh my fucking god, what have I done?" She slammed both hands on the wheel to the rhythm of her curses, tears streaming down her face, then stopped abusing her poor car and simply screamed. Finally Lena got out of the car and walked into the grass, cursing at herself in the long-dead language of her childhood. She collapsed onto her knees, retching blood as her system rejected the last vestiges of the vampire.

She felt strong arms around her and a soft voice in her ear. "Hello Lovely." It was Grandpa Raphael, looking for all the world like an aging hippy with his white ponytail, horrid shirt, baggy jeans and sandals. He held her until she could stand, then walked with her back to the Audi where she leaned against the passenger door, head down.

"Grandpa, I really fucked up this time, didn't I?" Lena watched him sadly as he leaned next to her against the car. He folded his arms over his chest, his stance matching hers in acknowledgement of her desolation and need for isolation, even from him.

"Did you?" he asked lightly.

"I broke the law against commingling with cursed beings."

"You make a habit of breaking laws, you always have." He gave her a sideways smile. "Besides, you pre-date that law, so…" he nudged Lena gently—this was a family joke.

"So I can declare ex post facto?" she smiled back at him for a moment, then withdrew again.

"Lovely, I believe the vampire initiated the commingling. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"He may have started it, but I tried to finish it. Bad idea! I've never had a curse take over like that, Grandpa. I wanted to tear Yorke open and drain him dry. Son-of-a-bitch! That bloody vampire curse nearly got me." She looked at her grandfather. "And I know why."

Raphael kept silent while she gathered her thoughts. He had waited a very long time for this.

"It could get to me because for nearly 300 years I have nurtured hatred and anger and bitterness toward Hal Yorke in my soul. I gave that curse the perfect environment. I've corrupted myself. I've jeopardized my place among the Seraphin Nepos. I understand now, why you and Dad have been so worried."

"I wasn't worried, just concerned."

"Okay, but Dad has been worried and scared. I remember in the black days, you told me that I had to protect my soul above all else, because if I ever gave in to evil I would become a greater monster than any I had destroyed. You said I could tear the world to shreds."

"Yes."

"Dad looks at me sometimes as if he sees a hint of that monster, and he's scared because he knows that if it happens, he will be called on to put me down." Lena spoke softly, verbalizing for the first time a long-understood truth.

"Don't tell him," Raphael spoke just as softly. "It would break his heart if he knew you believed such a thing of him."

She nodded. "I know. Besides, Grandma would never forgive him if he hurt me," she smiled weakly. Although Lena's grandmother and mother died long ago their souls continued, experiencing more life in the heavenly realm than some people ever know in the physical confines of earth. "Until death do us part" never did apply to their marriages.

"Your Grandmother is quite formidable, but I would also be distraught." He smiled back. "What will you do?"

Lena moved into his arms for a hug and rested in his warmth and strength. She was forming an idea, but it was too heavy for her to carry alone or speak aloud. Raphael hummed a lullaby in the old language, one she had known since before her birth. He comforted her while waiting for her answer. Finally he said, "Let's begin with what we know. What is the first moral law*?"

"Love the creator and honor the creation, with the exception of those who choose evil and threaten the welfare of us all." Lena recited from memory the first lesson she had ever learned.

"The second moral law?"

"Do unto others as we would have them do unto us, with the exception of evil beings who inflict their evil upon others."

"The third moral law?"

"Walk lightly in the world, do no harm, protect all those who need protection, with the exception of those whose evil ways cry out for justice."

"The fourth moral law?"

"Forgive those who hurt you, not for their sake but for your own. You must forgive to protect your soul. Forgiveness heals the forgiver, not the forgiven." She paused. "To this law there is no exception."

"Tell me what that means. Why did I make you swear an oath not to kill Yorke? Why did the creator command you not to harm him?"

"I kill monsters to protect humanity and to serve the cause of justice. Killing him wouldn't be an act of justice, but an act of personal revenge. Revenge will destroy my soul. But I want to kill him so badly!"

"Yes."

"Grandpa, I can't forgive him for what he has done! And because I can't, I nurture and protect the evil in my own soul. I'm lost. I've failed." She finally voiced the great agony that she carried in her heart.

"So it would seem."

Lena glanced quickly at her grandpa, but his expression gave nothing away. She continued, "I can't allow him to kill again. If that happens, I will tear him limb from limb." She paused and sighed. "Checkmate."

"What?" Raphael drew her back from his chest, puzzled.

"Checkmate. I have no moves left."

"There is one, but it is the hardest move in the world," he replied.

For a long moment she was quiet, not because she didn't know the answer but because she did, and she hated it. "Aw, no! No, no, no, fuck no! Grandpa! The only move I have left is to keep him from killing. I have to keep Hal Yorke from killing again! I have to go back! I have to dedicate my life to taking care of that monster! "

As Lena finished the drive to London she began to plan the steps for her return to Honolulu Heights. She would need to return to the farm and pack her personal belongings to be shipped over. She would make sure Ruby had everything she needed to take care of things on her own. Ruby was already a legal partner with full and rights to the property, bank accounts, etc., but the two women would sit down and review the details before Lena left for what she believed would be an extended absence. In her heart Lena feared that she would never live in her beloved home again. Yorke could maintain his existence for a very long time, and the thought of him ever setting foot in her home…inconceivable.

She would have to buy Honolulu Heights, of course, and the Barry Grand Hotel. There might need to be other purchases in order for her to control the environment in which she would be guarding the vampire. She would get the London offices started on the purchases immediately, and request a written report summarizing the history of each property along with all documentation of previous ownership. In fact, a brief history of the area as a whole would be beneficial. She used the voice memo app on her cell phone to add that point to her list.

One thing that puzzled Lena was her grandfather's reaction to her decision to become the barricade between Yorke and humanity. He seemed pleased and almost relieved, as if he had already reached that conclusion and was just waiting for her to catch up. Lena loved Grandpa Raphael, but she didn't trust him to tell her everything. She sensed that he had his own agenda and was playing a long game, working toward an ending she couldn't comprehend.

Lena went directly to headquarters, parked her beloved Audi in her reserved spot, and took the executive elevator to the top floor. Her small but plush office was just as she had left it. She fired up her laptop and sent out a flurry of emails before plopping onto the leather sofa for a few hours of rest. She would fly home tomorrow—actually later today. She set the alarm on her cell phone, turned off her brain, and slept.

She woke to the sound of her alarm and the smell of coffee. She was immediately aware of someone in the little alcove that served as her kitchenette. She breathed in and smelled breakfast and her old friend Bernard's after shave. It was a comfortable combination.

"Good morning Bernard," she said as she stretched and stood up.

"Good morning. I got your email."

"I didn't tell you to bring me breakfast, I said I was stopping over and wanted to see you."

"I read the subtext. It practically screamed 'Bring me food.'" He smiled at her. "I also brought that American coffee you got me hooked on."

"Thank god you did. I'm hungry enough to eat the hind end out of a mule, and in serious need of caffeine," she said as she pulled a plate from the overhead cabinet and helped herself to toasted brioche and poached pears, with a side of fresh grapes. Bernard joined her at the table that served as a meeting and eating spot.

"I hope I've brought you something much better than mule butt." Bernard was used to her colloquialisms. "So, what's up?" he asked.

"First of all, thanks for what you did to clean up the fallout from the 'British Apocalypse.' I know it kept you busy." London didn't realize what a great protector the city had in Bernard.

"You're welcome. Chasing down a few strays was easy. There's no way I could have handled a demon of the first order, though. I'm glad you stepped in."

She shrugged off the compliment and changed the subject. "We've known each other for what, 1500 years?"

He nodded in agreement.

"Have you ever known me to do something ridiculously stupid?" Lena looked him directly in the face. She wasn't looking for Bernard to soothe her sensibilities, she wanted the truth.

"I have known you to do many things that I considered ridiculously stupid at the time, only to be proven wrong," he answered. "What are you doing this time?"

"I'm moving to Wales."

"That in itself doesn't count as ridiculously stupid. Wales can be quite lovely."

"I'm going to live with Hal Yorke and keep him from killing."

Bernard stopped in mid-chew and stared at her. He quickly choked down his food in order to reply. "Not The Hal Yorke, vampire Old One? Didn't he get blown up with the rest of them?"

"He escaped the blast. He's in Barry, with friends who are keeping him sober. I'm going to help."

"He's a vampire. Can't you just—oh wait, the edict."

"Does everyone know about that fucking edict?" Lena was beginning to wonder if she had made the front page of every newspaper in Seraphin-land.

Bernard chuckled at her discomfiture. "Does your family know your plan?"

"Just Grandpa. He helped me work it out."

"I'd pay to see the look on your dad's face when he finds out you're shacking up with Hal Yorke."

"I'm not shacking up!" Lena protested immediately, to the twinkle in her nethers as much as to Bernard. "It's not like we'll be sharing a bed."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Not at first, anyway." At her horrified expression, Bernard continued. "You realize that you will have to stay very close to him, consistently, for a while, before the curse will start to let up."

"Aww, shit. This is gonna suck so bad. Dude, you're kidding, right?"

"Sadly, no. Have you done your research on this? There's a lot you need to consider," Bernard loved research and promoted it whenever possible.

"Can you give me the bullet points? I'm flying home shortly."

"When's your flight?"

"Not taking a plane." Lena wasn't willing to deal with commercial travel right now. She needed to get started before she chickened out on the whole deal.

Bernard summarized the difficulties of vampire/Seraphin Nepos relationships neatly for Lena and gave her the specifics that went beyond the stories she had heard.

In order for the proximity to be effective, it had to begin by the Seraphin Nepos staying within a few feet of the vampire, depending of course on the strength of the individual curse and the individual Seraphin Nepos. Hence the practice of literally keeping Seraphin slaves on a leash, as vampires could usually only capture a weak Seraphin and needed to keep the slave very close in order for it to mute their bloodlust effectively. Vampires who needed a clear head for business found Seraphin Nepos slaves to be quite a benefit, and owning one quickly developed into a status symbol in the 1690's.

The system worked well for vampires until they discovered that Seraphin Nepos blood was poisonous to them, which happened quite by accident when a vampire grew tired of keeping a slave on a leash and decided to see if just drinking the blood would be any help. The vampire exploded with his first bite, giving Seraphin slaves immediate knowledge of a weapon with which they could defeat their captors.

To complicate things further, vampires who were exposed to Seraphin Nepos blood found it to be one of the most alluring substances on the planet and there were recorded cases of suicide-by-Seraphin that happened when vampires knowingly tried to drink their blood. Apparently a single sip was worth dying for.

The death knell for Seraphin slavery, however, came when vampires began using Seraphin Nepos blood to kill each other by calling in humans to draw the blood from their Seraphin slaves and mix it with human blood to disguise its true nature. The Borgias had nothing on vampire politicians.

When Mr. Snow learned of this practice he called for the immediate execution of all Seraphin Nepos, those already in captivity and any others that vampires could find. Within a span of 10 years Seraphin Nepos had progressed from being pets to being public enemy number one, and the Seraphin genocide was begun.

Lena had been unaware of the rising popularity of Seraphin Nepos slavery because she was in remote areas of Asia at the time, tracking particularly heinous criminals across the Gobi desert and into the steppes and mountains of Mongolia. By the time she had settled her business and returned to Europe, the genocide was at its peak as vampire armies swept through populated areas and Seraphin Nepos scattered and hid across the world. She joined Ammon and the few Seraphin with the strength for war, and they had brought the genocide to a swift conclusion by destroying everything remotely vampiric that they could find and sending Snow and his underlings into hiding in turn.

Except Yorke, of course. His troops had killed members of Lena's own family so she hunted him above all others. Only when she stood over his unconscious form with a knife in one hand and a stake in the other did she recognize him as her Henry. She swung the stake to kill him anyway, but her grandfather interceded and pulled her away before she touched him.

What followed for Lena was her black time, when she was held captive by her father and grandfather, under orders from the creator, until she agreed to let Yorke live.

Lena sat quietly for a few minutes following Bernard's summary of the complications of the vampire/Seraphin connection. She frowned as she rolled through her options in her mind and considered the specifics of what she was about to do. How does one go to the bathroom with a vampire? Brush one's teeth with a vampire? Change one's clothes with a vampire? Holy shit, she might as well marry the bastard!

"Aww, shit. Oh Bernard, I think I'm going to be sick. I thought I could just be in the same room, or across a wall from him, or something. But you're right, based on what I saw while I was there. He's got a ferocious curse riding him, and it won't back down." She pushed away from the table and walked to the window, not really seeing the morning around her.

"And that whole vampires-can't-resist-our-blood thing. Are you sure that's for real? It has to be an exaggeration." She turned to her old friend, looking for a little encouragement. Spending the rest of her life worrying about paper cuts and scraped shins was more than she could handle right now.

"I've read case studies. It's real." Bernard was being no help at all. "We smell different than humans, sweeter somehow, to vampires. It's because of our blood. When it reaches the open air, they find it very hard to resist."

"But look, I've been fighting vampires since they were first created, and I've never had one leap at me in an intended suicide. Well, not that I'm aware of, anyway. I guess I could have misread their intentions." She shook her head. "No, it can't be right. I was bloodied up during the fight with Caedis and Yorke didn't make a move toward me."

"How far away was he?"

"I dunno, eight feet or so. Close enough to smell my blood if he's any kind of vampire at all."

"Hmm. What did he do, then?" Bernard was clearly puzzled by Yorke's atypical response to Seraphin Nepos blood.

"He tried to escape out a window," Lena replied.

"U-huh. Are you sure he was running from the demon?"

"Shit. No, I just assumed."

"Smart vampire," Bernard replied. "Very smart. He was getting away from your blood before it could draw him in."

Lena paced the floor and considered the new layer of impossibility that Bernard had dumped on top of the already absurd complexity of what she was planning to attempt. Her anger at what she was about to put herself through overwhelmed Lena and she flung out a string of profanity that wound down to a single declaration: "I'll be a son-of-a-bitch if I'll spend my life tied to a goddamned vampire. Fuck him! Fuck him and the horse he rode in on!"

She turned back to her friend. "There's only one thing to do. I'm going to break the vampire curse."

"How?"

"No fucking clue."

Well, if anyone can figure it out, you can," Bernard said. "I have to say, though, that this may be the most ridiculously stupid idea you have ever had."

"Well, there you go then, it's bound to be a spectacular success." She gave him a weak smile as she slumped back into her chair, her mind racing. She had to admit, she agreed with Bernard's assessment.

*Persephone—goddess of the underworld and of the seasons and the harvest. She could carry curses from the living to the dead. For the purposes of this story, she's able to manipulate curses in general and taught Lena to do so as well.

*moral laws—I compiled these based on standard beliefs of what is considered good behavior. The principle of forgiveness as an action that heals the forgiver is a basic tenet of the Christian theology with which I was raised. I don't know where else it might be presented. I do know that it is very, very hard to do.