Lena was nailing the corner of a piece of plasterboard in place when she blew out the end of her thumb. Georgia's crew had left for the day but Hal and Lena had planned to continue working until Tom and Alex got home from the hotel, after which they would stop to fix supper together.
She saw Hal in her peripheral vision, which wasn't unusual because Hal was always close. But Hal had pulled his shirt off to shake the dust out of it. The unexpected sight of his sculpted muscles and pert little nipples fried her brain for a moment and she slammed the hammer onto her thumb so hard that it split thumbnail, skin, and leather, spewing blood and tissue onto the plasterboard.
"Holy Fuck!" She dropped the hammer and grabbed her busted thumb, wrapped it in the tail of her long-sleeved shirt and squeezed it to stop the blood flow.
Hal drew in, unable to resist the intoxicating scent of her blood. He could almost taste the microscopic bits of it floating in the air. He felt his fangs unsheathe and saw his vision shift. He had to have her blood.
Lena saw his black eyes and darkened curse and planted a boot in his gut with a kick that sent him across the room. He slammed into the wall and slumped to the floor, stunned. She pulled off her long-sleeved shirt and, with her thumb still wrapped in it, used the fabric to wipe down her hammer and scrub her blood from the plasterboard. She hadn't planned on revealing her "I AM SHERLOCKED" t-shirt, but the fact that she was secretly a Cumberbabe was no longer important.
Hal was moving again and the curse was deep red and thick around him. He pulled himself upright against the far wall and stared at her, his vision clear but his fangs still present.
"Stay where you are, Hal. Stay there, don't come back here, don't make me hurt you again." She spoke frantically, almost yelling to make sure he heard her over whatever chaos was happening in his head. She wrenched the plasterboard off the wall, broke it in half and threw it out the window into the bin below.
"Stay there Hal, just give me a minute, just stay there, it isn't safe back here. Please, God, please just stay there!" She kept talking to Hal and praying, her words a jumble of desperation as she checked the wall for signs of blood splatter and pulled another piece of plasterboard off just to be sure. She used her shirt to scrub the floor all around where she had been standing and finally she threw her shirt and gloves out the window into the bin. Her thumb was healed but bloody. She grabbed Hal's shirt off the floor and used it as a washcloth, using her saliva to soften the dried blood on her thumb so she could wipe it off with his shirt.
He couldn't help staring at her, his eyes locked on the blood. When she sucked her bloody thumb his mouth mimicked the action. He could feel himself drooling. He watched as each item went sailing out the window, and he reckoned where it had landed and how hard it would be to make that leap himself.
She moved away from the window toward him, but stopped after a few steps. She waited and watched for him to show her what he needed. He was afraid to open his mouth and allow any air across his taste buds. She could tell by the subtle curve of his lips that his fangs were out and decided that she wouldn't ask him to speak. She watched his eyes.
He looked her up and down and stopped on her boots. She followed his look and saw a few drops of blood on her new work boots. They were out the window in a second. His gaze moved up her legs and stopped again. She saw a spot of blood on one thigh, where she had held her thumb against her leg. Her jeans went out the window. He looked her over carefully once more and shook his head. No more blood.
Lena looked down at herself. Thank god she liked oversized t-shirts and bothered to put on matching socks today!
Alex appeared in the doorway to announce that she and Tom were home from work. She broke off mid-sentence as she saw Hal and Lena's locked eyes and realized that something was very wrong. She disappeared, yelling for Tom. He came through the front door and leaped up the stairs; he stopped at the door to the studio when Lena held up her hand.
"I smell blood," he said. "Not human. Yours?"
She nodded without taking her eyes off of Hal. "I busted my thumb. Blood spatter. Hurt like a mother. We are figuring out where it is so I can clean it up."
Tom looked at the two tense figures standing nearly across the room from each other and decided that Lena was understating the truth by a lot. He saw her boot print on Hal's stomach. He saw that Hal was fighting to control himself. He saw that Lena was only half-dressed. He blushed.
"I threw the bloody clothes and plasterboard into the bin, Tom. Stay away from it until I can get it hauled off."
"What do we do now?" Tom asked as he watched Hal carefully. "Shouldn't you tie him up or put him in the cellar or some'at?"
Hal's panicked expression told Tom that was a bad idea. If he was taken away from her, locked up alone with the raging chaos of his hunger…Hal shook his head emphatically. He would tear through the walls to get to her. He would go mad.
"No Tom, he stays with me," Lena said quietly. "My presence may be the only thing keeping him sane." She kept her focus on Hal but in her periphery she saw the shock on Tom and Alex's faces. "I don't know that, but I've been told it's possible for a vampire to go insane from the craving for Seraphin Nepos blood."
Lena watched for Hal's affirmation as she said, "I think I need to scrub the floor. Hot water, heavy-duty cleanser, bleach." Hal nodded his agreement.
"Got it," Tom said, and he was gone.
"Alex, could you bring me a pair of work trousers or sweats to put on? Nothing good. I'll be throwing them away. Third drawer down in the bureau."
Alex was gone.
"I don't want to tie you up," Lena said to the vampire across the room. "I told myself I wouldn't do that to you again. Do I need to tie you up?"
Hal slowly shook his head.
"Can I come closer to you without putting you at risk?"
Hal shook his head again.
"Fuck! Hal, I'm so sorry to put you through this," she said as Alex appeared with a pair of trousers. She pulled on the trousers as Alex moved back to the doorway.
"I'll help Tom," she said, and she disappeared again.
"Is it just the floor?"
Hal shook his head.
"Oh shit, of course, the hammer!"
He nodded.
Alex rent-a-ghosted back with a bucket of washing up water, scrub brush, and marigolds. Lena took the bucket and brush but refused the marigolds. She wanted her hands in the bleach, just in case there were any flecks of blood on them. She did everything without turning away from Hal. He watched her like a predator watches its prey, waiting for the moment of carelessness that would allow him to strike. He watched her like a drowning man clutching the end of a lifeline watches the sailor responsible for hauling him to safety.
"Thank you, Alex. Can you throw that hammer in the bin?"
"But it's practically new!" the ghost protested.
"Alex, it's just a hammer. It isn't more important than Hal or Tom," Lena said as she knelt to scrub the floor. Tom returned to the doorway and Alex joined him to watch as Lena meticulously scrubbed the floor for several feet in all directions from her accident. She never turned her back on Hal and she never lost sight of him.
When she was finished, Lena took the bucket and scrub brush and threw them out the window into the bin below. Her trousers were wet with bleach water from the knees down. She dried her hands on her thighs and threw the trousers out, and her socks as well, just to be safe. She looked at Hal. He was less tense.
"Is the room safe?"
He breathed in carefully and took a couple of steps forward as he did. "The room is safe," he said quietly, "but you are not."
She could see the curse coiled around him, still darker than it had ever been, pulsing in time to her own heartbeat, and she knew they were in deep shit.
"One thing at a time," she said. "Just keep your distance, okay Hal?"
He nodded and backed slowly to the far wall, but kept his gaze on her.
"I need my phone and pants. I mean, trousers, jeans, whatever the fuck!" Lena snapped.
Alex brought her phone and clean jeans. Lena called the refuse company to request immediate pickup of the bin; she held the phone on her shoulder while getting into her jeans. She didn't care who in the building saw her super unsexy blue cotton underpants in the process.
"I need immediate haul-away of a construction waste bin."
-pause
"Yes, I know it is after hours, but it contains material that is hazardous to my housemates, so it must be removed immediately."
-pause
"I will be happy to pay extra for the trouble. Double the standard rate. Can't you call a driver in?"
-pause
"Tell the driver I have 100 quid waiting as a tip. Or more. I don't care, but the bin has to go immediately."
-pause
"So what I'm hearing you say is, the only way that bin is going to leave this property tonight is if I move it myself?"
-pause
"Very well then, I will be happy to return your bin to you. Where do you want me to drop it, on your office or on your home?"
-pause
"I didn't say 'at' I said 'on' because if I have to do this myself I promise you that is exactly what will happen."
-pause
"Within the hour? Excellent. And you will of course be bringing a replacement bin? Thank you."
Lena stuck her phone in her jeans pocket and moved carefully to the open window. Hal followed her along the far wall and moved to the window at the other end of the room. The new window had been set in the frame already, and it was closed. Lena wanted it kept that way.
"I'm going to pull the cover over the bin, just to be safe." She looked at Hal. "Don't move." He nodded.
She jumped out of the second-story window and landed easily on rim of the bin. She checked to see that Hal was still at the far window, hopped off the bin, and dropped another six feet to the ground. She turned immediately to check Hal again, after which she pulled the tarpaulin cover over the bin and tied it in place. She stood back and looked up at the window she had jumped from. Tom and Alex stood there watching her.
"Make a hole, people," she called as she got a running start, jumped onto the rim of the bin and from there back through the window. She landed in a squat and stood quickly to regain eye contact with Hal. He had taken several steps toward her, but was able to back away when they reconnected.
"We need to get away from the bin and into a space where we can deal with this," she said, moving her hand in front of him to signify the curse. He nodded.
Lena glanced at Tom and Alex. "Leave us. Please. You can't be in the middle of this." They tried to argue, but Lena and Hal ignored them, so they started downstairs slowly, watching the pair as they went.
She moved to the door of the studio; he moved in tandem. She backed into the hallway; he followed. She kept one hand on the wall to guide her as she backed down the hall, past the nearly-complete new bathroom, past her own room, to his room. She halted at the open door. He stopped when she did and waited about ten feet away. She stepped through the door and out of his line of sight. Before she had crossed the room and turned around he was through the door and had shut it behind him. They stood facing each other again.
Out of nowhere Hal began softly speaking German, not just speaking but reciting, practically singing the last few stanzas of "Die Lorelei", a folk song based on the poem by Heinrich Heine. It was one of Lena's favorites, the legend of the beautiful golden-haired maiden who sits high on the rocks and combs her hair while singing, unaware that her song enthralls the boatman below and draws him to his death on the rocks.
She listened to it for a different reason now, as she realized that Hal was telling her what had happened to him in the only way he could through the chaos in his mind. Her blood was singing to him, enthralling him, drawing him to her with a power he couldn't resist. He would kill himself with it if she couldn't find a way to break the spell.
Well, fuck me, she thought. I'm not even blonde and I can't sing that well. And when I was blonde, he sure wasn't enthralled. Running off with my best horse…NO! I can't think like that. The last thing Hal needs is Bitter Lena feeling sorry for herself. What he needs is Nastusia.
And there it was, the answer sprung fully-formed from her mind like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And she didn't like it any better than Zeus had enjoyed getting his head split open by Hephaestus when Athena was born. Lena wasn't equipped to draw off the curse, she had already proven that when she first met Hal at Honolulu Heights. If she got close to Hal, this curse would chew her up and spit her out while he died drinking her blood.
Only a Nephilim of power and clarity could subdue the hunger for Nephilim blood. Hal needed a Nephilim with no dark shadows in her soul, no bitterness in her heart, no revenge on her mind.
She would have to recall Nastusia, the Polish girl mad for her Henry; she would have to remember what it meant to love him, truly and deeply love him, without reservation or regret, and when this mess was over and Hal was back to himself, the vampire behind his eyes would break her heart again.
"I know what to do, Hal, but you have to trust me. Can you trust me?"
He nodded.
"Turn around and close your eyes. You can't see this, it won't work if you do."
He looked puzzled, but he slowly turned around and closed his eyes. She could see him tense up as they broke eye contact and he felt the loss of their connection.
She took a step forward and reached out for him, her Henry, her love, with the smile like sunshine on her skin and strong hands that trembled when he touched her. She took another step toward him, remembering his first clumsy kiss and the flowers he picked and wove into a garland for her long blonde hair because beautiful ladies should always have flowers in their hair. Another step and her hands rested on his back, slid up and along his shoulders, gently massaged his tense muscles as she did after they had worked together in the stables.
"Don't open your eyes," she whispered with her own eyes closed. She knew that Hal would see Nastusia if he looked at her now. She was seeing Henry in her mind as she felt the curse swarming over her body.
She slid her arms around his chest and nestled against him, resting her head against the back of his neck. She allowed a thousand happy images to flow through her, moments of quiet joy and thundering ecstasy, of work and sweat and swimming naked in the lake; of snow angels and sword fights with icicles; of licking wine from his skin and drinking it from his navel after she had sloshed it out of her glass, and of him spilling his on purpose so he could do the same to her.
She opened her eyes. A red haze hung over them both. She closed her eyes again. She could feel the curse of her own blood returning to her.
Henry brushing her hair and laughing at her impatience with it, chiding her for not appreciating its beauty; telling her about his mothers and the misery in which he was raised; telling her that he learned to brush a woman's hair because it gave him time with each of them, the child looking for just one mother to call his own.
Henry sleeping next to her, his hair a wild mess around his peaceful face; sleeping with a hand on her breast as if he couldn't bear to be without her for a moment; sleeping as she dove into the beauty of his body with her eyes and hands and memorized every angle and curve, until she finally woke him with her caresses because she couldn't bear to be without him for a moment longer.
Henry fierce and wild, beating down three stable hands who had called her a whore for loving him; who threw them at her feet and forced them to beg her forgiveness; who carried her into the haymow, laughing in his arms, and locked them in until they were exhausted and itchy and he decided that she had rewarded him adequately for being so gallant.
"You're crying."
She heard Hal whisper and opened her eyes. The red haze was gone. She felt heavy with blood and grief.
"Hal, how do you feel?" She realized that his body was relaxed against her. His hands rested on hers, their fingers entwined. He was safe again.
"Back to normal. Better than normal. Much like the first time, when you drew the curse from me. Can I open my eyes yet?"
She resumed her current appearance as she pulled away from him. "Yes, of course," she said, wiping her tears on her t-shirt as she stepped back.
He turned and looked at her, worried; he wanted to know what had upset her. "Are you hurt? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
"No, I'm fine, I just—"she turned toward the door. "It takes a toll, that's all. If you're sure you're okay I'm going to my room. I need to finish dealing with this on my own."
"Of course. Thank you." He watched her go. She didn't look at him again.
Hal stood for a moment trying to recall exactly what had happened. He remembered her touch; he knew that she had hugged him from behind, which made sense as it kept her away from his fangs. He had felt the curse leaving him; he knew when he was no longer drowning in a screaming red chaos of blood. Lena had taken it into herself. What did she mean, finish dealing with it? What would she have to do?
He pulled on a shirt and left his room so he could to ask her. Alex was waiting in the hall. "You okay?" she asked.
"Yes I am, surprisingly okay," he replied. "Lena was able to safely draw off the curse. She's gone to her room; I thought I would check on her. She didn't look well."
"I'll come with you," Alex said as she fell into step behind him.
Hal sensed a shift in the air that told him Lena had taken the bullet train to somewhere, but he opened the door to her room and looked, just in case. It was empty.
"She's gone," he said, acknowledging what he had expected to see.
"What, so she just took off? What if you still needed her?"
"She knows that I'll be alright for a while, Alex. She very likely decided to take advantage of the opportunity to have a little time to herself. She is used to living alone, so I'm sure things have been claustrophobic for her here."
"So, what's on with you, then?" Alex asked.
"Food, I think. Yes, food sounds very good. Let's see what Tom has managed to not eat yet, shall we?" Hal and Alex went downstairs, where the three housemates had an evening much like the old days, except that there was a hole in the room where Lena should have been.
# # #
Lena went home, to her farm, to the white oak tree in the woods behind the house, the one that she had planted in 1861 when she claimed the place as her own. She curled up at its base and held on as spasms tore through her and she retched blood until she was exhausted.
She rested until she felt strong enough to move again, after which she walked among her flowers and noted how Ruby was carefully tending them. She picked a few and absently wove them into a garland for her hair as she cried out the last of her grief over the loss, once again, of her Henry.
Finally she reset the armor plating around her heart and steeled herself for her return to the vampire's lair, her new home, her future, and she returned to Honolulu Heights. The only signs of her visit were some drying blood in the woods and a garland of flowers on the garden path.
# # #
It was after midnight when Hal felt Lena return to her room. He wasn't waiting up for her, he was just reading because he couldn't sleep. The fact that he was still fully dressed and hadn't attempted to go to bed yet was a minor detail. He thought he would just check on her, since he was still up.
Her door was ajar. He knocked quietly.
"Come in, Hal," she replied.
He opened the door but stayed in the doorway and leaned slightly against the frame, being casual and not worried about her. She seemed calm, but tired. He shouldn't have disturbed her.
"I went home," she said, answering the question he was unwilling to ask. "I went back to my home, to deal with the curse in private."
"I don't know what that means," he said. "In what way do you deal with a curse when you draw it from someone else?"
"Depends on the curse." She dropped into the boudoir chair in the corner and waved him into the room. He entered, pulled out the desk chair and sat down.
"When I drew off my friend's werewolf curse my hair went crazy and I craved raw chicken," she chuckled. "We joked about the two of us being the double date from hell that night. I kind of shook it off, like a dog shaking water out of its fur. The extra hair went flying everywhere and I ate a whole roast chicken and it was over. I didn't try to take it all, though, just enough to keep her from running loose."
"The vampire curse is based on the need for blood, so when I draw it off I end up with a belly full of blood. I have to go off in a corner and throw up until it is out of my system." She looked at him. "Pretty gross. Well, from my point of view, anyway," she said the slight twist of a smile.
Hal smiled back at her. Vampire humor. She must be feeling okay.
She continued, "I'm such a weird mix of spiritual and corporeal. All humans are, but me more so than most because of my angel heritage. Spiritual things become tangible with me."
"Hence the wings and weapons," he said to indicate his understanding of the concept she was trying to explain.
"Exactly. Blessings and curses are tangible things to me too, as are angels and demons. They have substance."
Hal frowned as an unappealing thought crossed his mind. "You can see the vampire curse on me."
"Yes."
"When you touch me, do I feel like blood to you?"
"No, thank god, because that would be a whole nother level of weird!" She laughed. "No, I don't see or feel it as literal blood because it isn't. It's a need for blood, and a sense of hunger and …intractability? Relentlessness? Does that make sense?"
"It makes perfect sense. That is what it feels like to me as well," Hal said, surprised at how well she understood the vampire. "It is much less intractable and relentless since you came."
"I can tell," she said. "Today was a setback, but I think, I hope, that we've dealt with it. You're not staring at my neck and drooling, so that's a good sign."
"It isn't polite to drool," he responded. "I do try to be a gentleman."
"Honestly though, how are you? Anything going on?" She studied him carefully. "I can't see that there is." The curse lay quietly on him, a soft blush again.
"Nothing going on that your presence doesn't usually cause, my lady." Hal arched an eyebrow at her as he shifted to his usual flirtatious banter. He was pleased to see her smile in response.
"This whole thing is your fault, Hal, you know that?" she chided him gently.
"How is your clumsiness with a hammer in any way my fault?"
"I was doing fine until you flashed your nips at me. Seriously Hal, you should warn a gal before you whip those things out," she said with a mischievous grin. "They're one hell of a distraction."
It took Hal a moment to catch up with what she was saying, as the term 'nips' wasn't part of his vocabulary. He looked pleased with himself as he caught her meaning and she laughed lightly to see it.
"The morning will tell us for sure if we're safe. I'd like to get some sleep in the meantime." She stood up, signaling that it was time for him to leave. He rose from his chair but hesitated.
"I'd feel better if you locked me in for the night," he said. "I will sleep better, knowing that I can't get to you." He gave her a wry smile. "Never thought you'd hear me say that, did you?"
She just smiled and shook her head as she followed him to his room. She sealed him in and returned to her own room, and to the sounds of him undressing and getting into bed just across the wall. She did the same and they lay quietly, separated by a few inches of wood and plaster.
"Good night, Hal," she whispered.
"Good night, Lena," he replied.
They fell asleep facing each other.