((There's a sentence in there that I borrowed from Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines. I think it's glaringly visible, but I played that game at least 10 times. In the original it's first person singular and here it's third.

Chapter heading is from the Deine Lakaien song Nevermore.))

Chapter 22
High Walls Fighting the Skies

Finding the Preservers wasn't too difficult. Not if you knew how you could reach them, and Varilia had provided Sirendor with that information before she had dismissed him to Pont Vanis, before even the battle. There were shops owned by members, and Sirendor knew two of them. One had been taken out by the Raven – Erienne, to be specific, judging from the description how he had died. The other was still available.

He had taken Talan's scale and would make contact with Jonas. Someone had to be on the inside, and Sirendor was the only person who made sense. He didn't like the idea, and the others liked it even less, but the fact remained that they no longer had another way to get in touch.

Talan had been the Raven's only way to reach the Preservers. Delia had made sure they were cut off, had to wait until the Preservers came to them after finding out whatever they wanted to, spying on them, sending people who would all be eyed with suspicion because they might be agents.

For him it was awfully clear that whatever Jonas wanted, it didn't agree with their values. The Unknown still had hope. Hope to talk him out of his madness, hope to reach his son. That way of thinking was encouraged by Erienne. Sirendor understood them, he really did, but it didn't change the fact that there was an excellent chance the man was beyond saving.

He had reached his destination and entered, sauntering to the counter. He was the only customer in the evening, so his entrance might as well be dramatic.

Grinning at the shopkeeper, he slammed the scale on the counter. 'I guess ownership of this could make me our leader's right hand?' The shopkeeper looked every bit as shocked as he had hoped. Sirendor's grin widened. He was sure it wasn't pretty. 'I don't want that, even. Name's Sirendor Larn. I got one of my own, a dull one with my initials … here, look. With your eyes, not your hands.' He leaned forwards, snatching Talan's scale of the counter again. 'I'd like to talk to your higher-ups.'

'Sirendor Larn?' the shopkeeper echoed. 'You're expected.'

He raised an eyebrow. He had been announced, that wasn't news to him, but somehow he had assumed that information had got lost. 'Good,' Sirendor said. He believed he sounded smug. 'How does right now sound?'

The shopkeeper grunted. He walked to the door and gestured to him to follow. He didn't even lock up. 'Don't think someone's going to break in and steal your stuff?' Sirendor asked.

'Let them. The real things are not in the shop.'

Sirendor licked his lips. 'Ah,' he said. He remembered the catacombs of Lan Exeter vividly, and what they had found there. 'Offer services, too? To those in need?'

'Aye.' The man grinned. 'Got some knowledge in that department? Or do you plan to take Talan's job?'

'I don't think so. Either of it.'

The shopkeeper had led Sirendor to the town square. 'Look. You come with recommendations, but to bring the scale of the second highest officer … I'd rather you wait here. I'll bring our leader to you.'

Sirendor nodded. 'I understand.' The only sound disturbing the night was the gentle tinkling of the water fountain in the centre of the square. The stars were a torn reflection on the surface of the water, the light wind carrying tiny droplets beyond the basin onto the ground. Moss, yellow now in the winter, grew on the rim. He walked over to a dry patch of rock and sat down on it, facing the open space, paved with smooth stones that formed a regular geometrical pattern. The mayor had to be a very optimistic person to let the fountain run in the winter.

'I hope you didn't drink the water,' a voice said to his left. 'There's a substance in it that stops it from freezing, unless it gets very cold. Judging by the look you gave it, you were wondering it. Many foreigners do, myself included, long ago.'

Sirendor slid down from his seat and took the man in front of him in. It was like looking at another version of the Unknown, someone from another world in which he let his hair grow, and in which his eyes were soulless pits. He'd hoped that Jonas was merely misguided, but the harsh lines on his forehead and around his mouth told of a life of bitterness and cancerous hate. 'Jonas,' he said. 'You've got to be.'

'And you are Sirendor Larn. I was surprised to read your name recommended to me. After all, The Raven don't seem too fond of my Preservers.'

'Yours? You didn't found them, did you?'

Jonas chuckled. 'No. I merely took over and made them into a force to be reckoned with.' Even his voice was familiar, but so harsh … The Unknown, even when angry, even when speaking to an enemy, didn't sound like that. 'So. Are you planning to betray me or them?'

'I wish to do neither.' Sirendor approached, showing his open, weaponless hands. 'Talan served you. Surely you know of his affiliation, as well.'

'Yes. And I know he is dead. Do you, by any chance, know who did it?'

'Delia.' There was no point in lying. The Raven and Hirad especially weren't likely to let this one go, and they believed that she hadn't been acting without direction. Delia murdering Talan would come up when next they met. 'I have his scale. I wonder why she didn't take it.' He assumed she had noticed him nearby and decided to retreat, but he wasn't going to reveal that little detail. 'Not that it matters. Because Delia is dead, too.'

'Is she?' Jonas sighed. 'That is sad news.' He didn't sound sad at all. 'She was foolish, thinking that her Balaians protected her.' He folded his arms. 'How do you believe you can work for us and not betray your old friends?'

'Simple,' Sirendor said. 'I'll talk to them. Tell them that I work for you and explain why it's for the best.'

'I tried that.'

'And they would have made contact again, but with Talan lost, they didn't know how. I, myself, went to seek him out, but all I found was a body.' He was getting better at these half-truths than he liked. Sirendor had always prided himself to be an honest man, but now … not that he had a choice, but he didn't have to like it. 'I would wish to take Talan's place in negotiating with The Raven. They know and trust me as they knew and trusted him.'

'Good. Another meeting then. Tomorrow. Same time and place as before.' His face became sorrowful, but it wasn't real, only a mask that took a different shape. 'I must insist that you return to me after you deliver that message. If you are to work for me, I need to keep an eye on you. You see, what happened in Lan Exeter – I got that information from Varilia, who hired you – after this, I need to be cautious. Someone betrayed us there, and we are recalling all remaining agents to find out who. With time, I will come to trust you as fully as I trusted Talan, I am confident, but until then, I need to watch you. Do you agree to that?'

Sirendor smiled. It was a smile of success rather than anything else, but it seemed to please Jonas all the same. 'Of course. Thank you.'

Ϡ

Vampires didn't regularly dream. The fact of the matter was, they needed less sleep than humans, and when they slept, it was either very shallow, more like merely closing one's eyes and letting the mind wander far, far away, or very deep, so deep that it took a lot to wake them. In the shallow sleep, dreams didn't regularly occur. They were rare and when they happened, they were lucid but extremely vivid.

So Regis was fully aware that he was dreaming, which made the entire business marginally less alarming. Marginally. He was young. Very young, very foolish, and very drunk. It wasn't something that had actually happened, he believed, this scene at Beltane, with fires casting every figure in an orange glow against the black of the world. He was dancing with this beautiful woman in his arms, her short red hair sticking to her neck from the exertion and the heat of the fire. He smiled at her, lips open, and she tensed. Regis held her, trying to calm her, and when she struggled he clutched her to him, firmly, almost brutally. He wanted to whisper to her and lowered his head to her ear, but instead of speaking, he buried his fangs in her neck. Hot, warm liquid poured into his mouth and he drank eagerly, feeling her relax, then go limp. He wanted to let go, but he couldn't, his greed getting the better of him. The world around him blinked out of existence, there was only the ecstasy of her blood, sweet and perfect. He drank until he heard her heart stop and he was sucking on a dry, dead artery. He let go then, dazed, placed a kiss to her temple and placed her dead body on the ground.

Regis blinked. The fires were gone, but the taste of blood in his mouth lingered. It wasn't real, he knew that, but the images in his head were so vivid they made him sick. He fought the urge to throw up, sitting on the bed with his forehead pressed against his knees. What a sight he must be, a vampire distressed out of his mind at the thought of drinking blood.

No. Not of that alone, but of killing … anyone, and this woman specifically. The reasonable thing to do was to lie back down and let it go like the spectre it was. But he couldn't. He had to make sure that a dream was all it was.

The door to Shani's room was open. That was something they had decided on, he and Shani and Thaler. Someone was sitting guard in her room – Ilkar or Jandyr, most likely, with their superior hearing. They were going to bar the window, but before they got to do that, someone had to be on the lookout, whether she liked it or not. The open door was to leave a way for help to come as well as for Shani to bolt if she had to.

The night was moonless, the room almost completely dark, but Regis saw the silhouette of an elf in a chair next to the window quite clearly. Once he stood, he knew it was Jandyr – slightly shorter than Ilkar and a little more substantial. 'I'm taking over,' Regis told him in a whisper. 'You need the rest more than I do.'

The elf departed with a nod. He watched him go, wondering if Shani was going to be angry. She hadn't wanted him or Thaler to watch, wanted someone she wasn't so familiar with, someone she could pay for their efforts. They both understood her well enough not to argue.

Cautiously Regis approached her sleeping figure. In her rest, her face was peaceful, not a trace of the demons plaguing her mind. He hoped her dreams were less distressing than his. Despite himself, Regis reached out, fingers brushing over her cheek. 'Sleep tight, my love,' he whispered.

'Emiel?' Her eyes were still closed, but a small smile touched her lips. 'Did something happen?'

He shook his head before he realised she wasn't looking. 'No.' He chuckled. 'Crazy as it may sound, I had a nightmare and wanted to ascertain that you are well.'

Now she did look. 'What did you dream?'

'I … hurt you.' A part of him wondered if that would frighten here, but her expression was only gentle.

'You wouldn't,' she said, her voice very quiet but full of conviction. 'Did you send my watchdog away?'

'Yes. I thought I'd rather take this watch myself.'

'Not on that chair,' she said. 'Come here, Regis. Stay with me.'

He had a thousand reasons why this was a bad idea. It started with the very cause of his presence in this room, a deep dread that he would wake up with her dead in his arms. The thought was absurd. He didn't even want to drink from her, whatever craving he might sometimes feel, it never extended to her. Apparently, there was something that protected a vampire's lover from them, some deep, intrinsic switch like a parent's instinct to protect their offspring. He also was very aware of how he felt about her. He loved her, and he desired her, and the fact that nothing had ever happened beyond kissing didn't make it easier. He feared he was a crutch more than a partner, that he would be discarded when he was no longer needed. That, too, was nonsense, because they had decided to go there before she had been kidnapped even.

Regis watched her face fall. He had taken too long, he knew, and she had drawn her own conclusion. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Of course, I mean …'

'Whatever you think, it's not that,' he managed. 'I am just a fool who thinks he knows better than everyone else because I'm so very much older.'

'What?'

'I was about to make a decision for you. To protect you from yourself, in a way, because surely you ask out of desperation.' He shook his head. 'What nonsense. If anyone knows what they want, it's you. Your mind is your own, and to think anything else is nothing short of hubris. The nerve of me.'

Shani sat up, amusement warring with sleepiness. 'That's the most elaborate way to tell me you'll stay with me I could possibly have imagined, Regis.'

He snorted. 'At least we speak the same language.' Without any further hesitation, Regis slipped under the covers with her, pulling her against him.

Shani pressed her face into his chest and sighed. 'I love you, Emiel. You know that.'

Regis let his eyes close. He'd had enough sleep, but he was perfectly content to just lie there. 'I do.'

'I know you love me, too.' She pulled away enough to look at him, but if she could see anything in this light he wasn't sure. 'Don't try to deny it.'

'Not going to.'

'I've had an idea. Tell me if it's crazy.' He nodded. 'Well. I obviously can't work as a medic, not really. But like you said, my head's intact. I can go back to Oxenfurt. I can go there and teach. I did it before.'

'You know, that's actually a brilliant idea. Not crazy at all.' He smiled at her. 'I'll go with you, of course, but I have to stay with The Raven until they finish their job. I gave my word.'

'I know. And I'll have time to think this through. But … I'm glad to hear you'll be with me. From what I know, it isn't so easy to win the love of an immortal being. Is that true, Regis?'

'All true. And for some, that kind of love would be rather overwhelming, unbearable even. I do fear that one day you will run from it. From me.'

Shani shook her head. Her answer was a sleepy mumble. 'All I'll ever run is to you.' And then he knew that the mumbling had nothing to do with sleep, because one of her legs pressed between his.

The reaction of Regis's body was as instant as it was predictable. He had to force himself not to ask if she was sure. Of course she was. Instead, he tilted her head up and kissed her, deeply and thoroughly. When he pulled away, she was flushed and breathing hard. 'What you're saying is that we've waited long enough, hm?'

Shani smiled. 'Same language, you said it. That aside, I need this. Need to feel you, need to feel alive. And I got reminded how short life can be. When I was alone with myself I kept thinking that we never got to do anything that wasn't completely chaste.' She swallowed. 'You must think I'm crazy.'

'I think this is very human, in fact.' Regis sat up, pulling her with him and holding her arms, high enough to make sure he wouldn't hurt her. 'You need to know something.'

Shani watched him. 'Again? Last time we got similarly far you told me you're a vampire. What secret comes now? Are you a Reverend of the Eternal Fire? A werewolf? A dragon?'

Regis laughed. He knew that her euphoria was temporary, that she would need a lot more time to recover, but right now all she needed to do was live. He wasn't going to stop her. 'No, nothing like that. I want you to know that … what happened to me, what Vilgefortz did … you can still see a scar, and it looks terrible. It will get better, and yes, in your lifetime. Give it a decade or so and it will be all but invisible. I just wanted you to be prepared for that.'

Shani nodded slowly, and he pulled off his shirt. He watched her eyes go wide and reach out automatically before she realised she had no fingers with which to touch the tender looking skin. 'Gods, Regis. Are you in pain?'

'None. It's been gone for quite a while now, even after the mess I got myself into when I ran into the Raven.'

She licked her lips. 'And here I go complaining how my life's so bad. And you had to go through this.'

Regis cupped her face and leaned forwards, his nose nearly touching hers. 'Listen. I'm all right. You have every right to complain, and I will always be there to hear you do it. Right?' She nodded. 'Good. This here … it's just ugly. Nothing more than that. I promise you. No pain, no danger, just ugly.'

'Thanks, Regis.'

'For what?'

'For not thinking this changes how I feel … what I want.'

He shrugged. 'Of course it doesn't. As your fate doesn't change a thing for me.'

Shani closed the remaining distance and kissed him briefly. 'Emiel … can we discuss … this another time? I'd rather … make an experiment.'

'Oh? Is that what you call it?'

She smirked at him. 'Well. I have to find out what a vampire looks like. Under all that clothing, I mean. Do research on anatomical differences to us humans and such.'

'Sounds good.' He shifted, covering her with his body, and grinned down at her. 'Very good.'