This is a long chapter. A lot happens in it. Remember, this is a dark fic. Vampires are not, on the whole, very nice by nature. At some point, they have to do bad things and they have to accept that they will. I'm not one for shying away from ambiguity or the dark aspects of personality. I considered splitting this but I really do want to draw it to a close, so here follows 8000 words of belly churning sex, blood and death (and more sex), be warned. You may want to take a breather at certain points. I could go on and on and on with these two and maybe some day I will ... oh, they could get up to SO much.

(There really is a lot of sex, btw.)

This was a crazy little Hallowe'en folly, and I've loved sharing it with you. Thanks for coming along for the ride.


For a long while, even after he had fed, they simply rested back against the tree, eyes closed, wrapped about each other, allowing recovery to take hold and reality to set in.

Byron was gone; Victoria had destroyed him.

'We must return to the castle,' Melbourne said eventually, trying to push himself up.

She looked at him, her eyes wide in the gathering moonlight. 'Are you well enough?'

'Yes, I am quite recovered. You nurture me well in that respect.'

'Only in that respect?' she smiled.

'In all respects.' He kissed her. 'And you?' he asked, stroking her face, staring into it as if it contained all the answers which had so far eluded him in his long life. 'Are you well enough?'

'I wasn't in the fight, William.'

'No, but … what you did …'

'It had to be done.'

'Yes.'

It was her turn to search his face. 'Do you regret that it was not you who ended it?' she asked.

He thought for a while, the tips of his fingers still tracing a path over her cheeks, but he soon concluded, 'No, it was right this way. He was my past, and you are my present. The one vanquished the other, as it should.'

'And what of your future, William?' she asked softly.

But at that moment her wonder and beauty were so overwhelming that he could do no more than pull her into him and kiss her with an ardour which staggered them both yet again.

Breathless, laughing with the passion of it, they eventually broke away and managed to stand. Holding her hand, he led her back to the horses. When they passed the place where she had ended Byron, she paused and looked down. Not even the dust of him could be seen any longer.

'He is gone completely.'

'Yes. That is the way of it. Not a shadow left.'

She squeezed his hand. 'I am sorry.'

Melbourne looked at her quizzically. 'Sorry? Whatever for?'

'You were connected to him.'

He sniffed out a laugh. 'Perhaps once … but I feel a relief now which I did not know I would need. And for that I must thank you.' He took the deepest breath and released it before untying the horses and mounting his. 'Come, let us return. It grows cold … and I declare we both need a brandy.'

-xoOox-

Victoria and William ate a quiet supper together as the court's dinner had ended before they arrived back. As ever, their late return had caused alarm and, no doubt, speculation, but Victoria brushed it off, declaring that they had simply ventured further than they realised and were therefore delayed in coming back. Once the Queen was back and clearly safe and well, tensions eased again and normality was restored to Windsor.

Victoria dismissed the staff, leaving the two of them alone with their cold meats and cheeses.

She smiled softly at Lord M. He was staring intently at her, the amber flickers of the candlelight reflecting in the green of his eyes.

'What is it?' she asked.

'What?'

'You are staring at me as if my nose had fallen off.'

He sniffed out a laugh and dropped his head. 'Am I? I apologise, Ma'am.'

'I don't mind. But why?'

'Well … you are very lovely to stare at but …'

'Go on.'

He put his fork down and took a slow drink of Claret before saying, 'What you did today …You are the most remarkable thing I have ever encountered.'

'Thing?' Her eyebrows quirked up in mock outrage.

'You are beyond human, you are beyond anything. I adore you.'

'Beyond human? … No, you are beyond human. I remain very much mortal.'

At this he stood and moved to her. Impulsively, Melbourne leaned down and kissed her again. She stood for him, hunger forgotten and assuaged with his kiss. They kissed open-mouthed, tongues meeting, breath warm and mingling, lips bruising.

'I want … I want,' she murmured.

'Yes, my darling, my love.'

'Make love to me.'

And so barely aware of their surroundings, they were soon on the rug by the fire and he entered her and moved in her, slowly and gently for now, his eyes locked into hers the entire time. He stroked along the wet warmth of her quim, and she took him, full and deep, hard and long, meeting him thrust for thrust and push for pull.

They came together, quietly but certainly. Her ecstasy could be read in the widening of her eyes and gaping of her mouth. His brows furrowed and his mouth pursed as he released into her.

They gazed at each other, panting softly, joined, the length of his cock embedded in her pliant body, and he said, 'You are ready.'

She knew what he meant but voiced it anyway, 'For what?'

'To be changed, to be turned. To do what you did today … you can do anything.'

'Yes. I am ready.'

After a kiss of confirmation he said, 'Then we will go to Brocket Hall.'

-xoOox-

Again, the suddenness of the Queen's decision to depart Windsor left a trail of amazement in her wake, but there was a determination to her which could not be disputed. She wished to visit Lord M's glasshouses, she declared, to see how they were coping with the encroaching winter. Neither her mother, Conroy, nor her Ladies could change her mind. And she rode in the carriage with her Prime Minister. It would be a good time to attend to business, she said, and she did not wish to bore anyone else with that, so they would travel alone.

The carriage set off before anyone could stop them.

The Queen and her Prime Minister did attend to business: the business of removing most of their clothing and exploring each other's bodies in ways that Victoria was discovering and responding to every day.

With two fingers high inside her, his thumb circling the little bud that sat just above, and her left nipple tight in his mouth, she considered briefly what Conroy would make of it, but soon gave up.

And when he guided her to sit with her feet resting on the bench opposite and placed himself kneeling between her legs, she wondered momentarily again. But when he lowered his head to her sex and his lips closed around her stark nakedness, when his tongue slipped in to taste her very essence, when he sucked and licked and dragged on her until she was incoherent with pleasure, she forgot all but him, and instead curled her fingers through his hair and held him there.

Victoria came and came until she wondered if she could ever stop coming, but at last he lifted his head, a smirk on his face like a schoolboy caught stealing Matron's scones, and pushed himself up to sit beside her. She stared blankly ahead, her face aglow with amazement.

'What did you just do? Is that within the law of my country?' she asked breathlessly.

'Did you enjoy it?'

'I don't think enjoy is at all an adequate term, Lord M.'

'Well, it is most certainly within my law.'

She laughed and placed her hand on his thigh, running it up until she came to the hardness between his legs. He had removed his coat and waistcoat but still wore his breeches and shirt. 'I feel I have been neglecting you.'

'That can be put to rights.'

And with that he practically lifted her and guided her over to straddle him. After he released himself quickly, Victoria sank down onto him with a moan of the most glorious satisfaction. He rose up high into her, and, her quim already tight from many orgasms, she felt every inch of his hard flesh enclosed inside her. For his part, he seemed happy enough, for his head was back, his fingers dug impulsively into her hips, and he moaned out 'Fuck!' through clenched teeth and tightly shut eyes. Victoria allowed herself a grin of pride.

Melbourne forced his eyes open. He'd already discarded her gown and corset but he now pulled off her chemise so that her breasts were naked. Then, gripping her hips, he declared, 'Move.'

Bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder, the other on the padded side of the carriage, she lifted up, feeling him slide through her as she did. Victoria grinned at the gloriousness of it. Teasing him, she held herself poised, perfectly placed so that the head of him barely sat inside her. He grimaced in anticipation before demanding gruffly, 'Good God, down … please.'

So she lowered her body, but so agonisingly slowly that he moaned aloud, and this time when his head fell back with the agonising restraint of it, his fangs emerged.

She pulled up his rigid shaft and did it again, tormenting him, letting the heady rush of power take her.

'You like that, Lord M?' she asked, her voice infused with eroticism.

'You are my goddess,' came the slurred response. He was lost to her.

At last she built her pace, but slipped into an easy rhythm which still allowed her control – never too fast, but no longer so slow as to deny him the pleasure he'd gifted her so freely.

Melbourne stared with bleary eyes at her, but his lips curled back and his fangs were all too visible. She dipped down towards him and he instinctively took hold of her breast. His thumb and forefinger closed harshly upon the nipple and squeezed, twisted. The sudden shot of pain made her gasp but she adored and absorbed it.

It was so attuned with her pleasure, this pain he gave, and she longed for more. Still bucking along him, Victoria drew her body in closer so that her neck was in reach of his mouth. He inhaled deeply and groaned. He could smell her blood, sense the pulse of it through her flourishing body.

She moved harder now, knowing how his senses were heightened and focused only on her.

'Jesus Christ, I want to bite you!' he hissed, baring his fangs.

Victoria exposed her neck, inviting the piercing of his teeth, longing for it, but instead he turned his head away.

'No, not now! Christ, not now! We must wait!'

It was her turn to moan. 'Oh, but I want it. I want you in me.'

At that moment the carriage jolted over a stone, sending him yet more urgently up into her. 'I am in you. Feel me.'

She leant back, angling his cock so that it pressed so hard against her that it almost hurt. 'Oh, I do, I do, but more … please, more.'

'No, it's not time. Soon … at Brocket Hall … it must be there. You will be as much a part of my home as I am.'

She threw her head down in frustration but moved ever faster on him, now working herself on his cock with near desperation. The road was bumpy and each jolt and shake only sent more quivers of pleasure through them both. He held both her breasts and squeezed and plied them almost brutally. She loved it.

'Pinch them, twist them … please … I need it.'

His fingers and thumbs closed on the nipples and he tightened his grip until she cried out. Shards of agony pulsed from them and dashed to coil through her cock-filled quim. But it made up for the lack of bite at her neck and she came almost instantly again, falling from the edge she'd held herself on.

Her orgasm clamped hard on his cock and, holding back as long as he could, he then let her body draw out his come with explosive force.

It took a while before either could react, but, at length, she opened her eyes and smiled broadly down to him. He could only laugh in return, such had been the force of their coupling.

'Ma'am …' he breathed. 'I do declare … fucking hell.'

'Lord M,' she answered, 'you are most remiss in employing language like that in the presence of your Queen.'

'I find I cannot apologise, Ma'am.'

'Then I shall send you forthwith to the Tower,' she murmured, bending and kissing him deeply.

'I will go willingly …' he replied between kisses, 'if you lock yourself up with me.'

'Hmm, that sounds most appealing.'

She pulled back, losing her teasing for once. 'But in all seriousness, my love … when will you do it?'

He stroked her face. 'I fed long from you yesterday. From a purely selfish point of view, I need you to be replenished. Tomorrow. It will be tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow,' she repeated, and kissed him again.

The journey continued, all bumping, jolting, orgasm-inducing 50 miles of it.

By the time they reached Brocket Hall, they were too exhausted with pleasure to do much more than fall into bed and sleep.

-xoOox-

It didn't happen when they awoke. In fact, they barely mentioned it. The Brocket Hall cook prepared a glorious breakfast which assuaged the very human hunger which had beset them after their exertions on the journey, and then Lord M did indeed show her the glasshouses and his collection of orchids.

'They are the most exquisite flowers, Lord M. And so very sensual.'

'I think so. Exquisite and sensual … like you, Ma'am.'

She smiled and for a while they continued through his glasshouses. His botanical knowledge was extensive and she adored the passion with which he spoke about his plants, but soon enough her mind turned to other matters. 'What time is it, Lord M?'

He looked at his pocket watch. 'A little after four, Ma'am.'

She stepped into him and bit her lip coyly. 'I have been most patient, do you not think?'

'You have been a paragon of the virtue, Ma'am.'

'Well then …' She placed her hands on his chest and set her most seductive gaze on him.

He frowned a little. 'Are you not the slightest bit apprehensive?'

She huffed. 'You have made me wait quite long enough! Apprehension is long gone.'

'But … your life as you know it will end.'

Determination set in. She was long past prevarication. 'Good. Did I not say that from the beginning? I am sick of this life. I long for more, you know that. And together, we will live and live and live.'

He took her head and stared into her eyes. 'Yes. We will.'

William kissed her, softly, almost innocently, and then, saying no more, he took her hand and led her from the glasshouse and back into the house. Silently, they walked up the staircase and along corridors until they reached the bedchamber.

He opened the door and held it for her. Victoria did not hesitate in walking in.

Melbourne closed the door and locked it. No one would disturb them, but enclosing them completely in their little world seemed somehow fitting.

He set about removing her clothing. Slowly and still silently, he took off her gown, skirts, stockings, corset and chemise, until she was quite naked before him.

The room was warm from the fire and the light of the flames made her pale skin glow golden.

Holding eye contact, he then removed his own clothes: cravat, waistcoat, breeches, shirt, all were tossed aside until they both stood with nothing on before each other.

He stepped into her and for the first time, Victoria did indeed feel the slightest tinge of apprehension.

'What must be done exactly?' she asked and he heard the tremor in her voice for he bent and kissed so beautifully her anxiety melted.

'We make love. I will be inside you when it happens.'

'Do I … when do I, you know, do it to you?' She was still anxious and found herself unable to voice it starkly.

'I will cut my skin before I feed from you. And you will drink.'

She nodded.

'Victoria …' He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted it. 'Tell me now – Is this what you want?'

'Yes. You know it is.'

And so he kissed her and in kissing her drew her over to the bed. Melbourne began to make love to her so that she forgot it was to be her last night in her life as it had been.

He nearly brought her her first orgasm with his fingers, and nearly her second with his mouth, but not quite. He held her on that knife edge each time, so that by the time he was ready to push into her, she was a seething ball of sexual potency and need. She lay back on the bed and writhed, her body on fire with anticipation, her senses attuned to all he would offer.

He moved over her and placed himself ready. She spread her legs wide, bucking her hips towards him to beckon her in. 'Please, please,' she implored.

'Shh,' he had to hush. 'Calm.'

But when he thrust into her, his own need was clear. He groaned loudly as his cock disappeared into the warm, wet succulence of her quim and began to move with tell-tale urgency before forcing himself to slow down.

Reaching under her back, he pulled her up into a sitting position. She wrapped her legs about him and sat across his hips with his cock still firmly embedded within her.

Melbourne held her close and kissed her but then she felt him reaching for something. She looked to see what it was.

In his right hand he held a thin silvery knife, the blade sharp and gleaming in the candlelight. She smiled softly and kissed him again.

'You must drink fully. It may be bitter, but you will grow used to it.'

'I know,' she said.

Melbourne brought the knife closer to himself, about to slice through his own skin, but Victoria curled her fingers around his suddenly and stopped him. 'No … I want to. May I?'

He looked at her, surprise clear but soon melting into admiration and acceptance. He nodded and let her take the knife from his grasp. She ran her other hand over his chest and he shuddered in a breath. He was breathing fast now and his cock was lividly erect within her. She glanced up and when he opened his mouth, she could see the tips of his fangs gleaming bright.

He could scarcely breathe with anticipation. 'My angel,' he whispered, as she felt for the place.

'Where?' she asked and he pointed to the indent between his left shoulder and collar bone.

'Cut an inch, perhaps a little more. Deep. At least an inch deep again.'

He thought she would hesitate but she did not. She brought the knife to the place and angled it so that its sharp point was towards his skin. Then, with barely a pause, she pushed it in before drawing it along so that it scored a deep incision almost two inches long. He sucked in, more with rapture than pain. At first it didn't seem that it would bleed but then she drew the blade out and let it fall to the bed beside them.

She watched, entranced, as deep red blood began pouring from the wound. Was she surprised? Had she not expected him to bleed like her? She reached up and caught it on her fingers.

He was staggering in breaths, not with the pain but with the knowledge of what would be. She thought perhaps she should fear what it would taste like, what it would feel like, but she didn't because at that moment she craved it and yearned for it. She wanted it as much as she had earlier wanted his cock within her.

Victoria glanced up at him, offering him her devotion, her love and life. He said nothing but stared back, open and truthful, and she lowered her head to his cut flesh.

As the first of his blood seeped into her, Melbourne sobbed, not a sob of anguish, but a soul-filled sob of pure glory. And then he felt it. Her lips tightened on his flesh, her tongue grazed over it, and his blood flowed into her mouth. His cock jolted within her, and pleasure so extreme unwound inside him that his head swam and he had to grip onto her head to stay grounded.

His sob changed and he began moaning, he couldn't stop. He was lost and found in that moment. And she had done it. His love, his life, his Victoria.

She sucked and sucked, lapping at his blood, drinking it down with no hesitation, with no qualms, as thirsty and hungry as he had ever been.

He held her there now, not because she would go if not, but because he wanted that confirmation.

Victoria drank. It was warm, his blood, and not bitter as she had expected. In fact, there was a richness to it which reminded her of the finest Burgundy followed after by dark chocolate. The more she had, the more she wanted, until she was sucking and licking on his wound with fervour. As she swallowed him she seemed to float, although she was sitting astride him, impaled on his cock. She seemed to rise out of herself as his blood mingled with hers in her mind and she became more at one with him than ever.

She was unaware of how long it lasted, her feeding, but, after a while, he took her head and guided it off him. She was bereft for a time and felt anger with him for denying her more sustenance. Her lips were red with his blood and she licked at them greedily for every drop she could get.

Melbourne kissed and stroked her and guided her to lie back, quickly pushing his cock deep back inside her.

Even after drinking him in, she was still in such a state of erotic need that she tugged on him, urging him down to her. But he was equally in need, his breath still came fast and he drove hard into her two, three times with grunts of urgency. She took it all but longed for that final piercing. The taste of his blood was strong on her tongue and made her crave being bitten even more.

He leaned over her, pressing so deep into her that her back buckled. Victoria gasped and let her head tilt back so that her neck was fully exposed to him.

There was a moment of perfect silence and stillness, an awareness that what would happen next would enable the alignment between them to meet and join finally and never again move apart.

She turned her eyes to his. Neither spoke. They did not need to.

Melbourne opened his mouth and bared his fangs. His left hand stroked back her hair and his fingers threaded through it enough to gain purchase on it and hold her in place. His right hand gripped her shoulder.

And he lowered his head and bit.

It felt different this time, deeper than ever, sharper, more precise. And as his fangs sank in so too did he move in her. He withdrew his cock only to drive forward again, forcing his fangs into her yet more. There was that unique noise as his teeth sank into her flesh. She cried out, not with pain, although it hurt considerably, but with realisation of life.

She brought her hands to his head and held him there. He moved in her, made love to her while sucking the very essence of her life from her.

Rapture had been poised for some time but now, with the blood she had consumed making her shimmer with its force, with his cock stroking within her, and with the bliss of him drawing on her veins, she could not contain it.

Victoria stared above her and let it take. Pleasure started small at first, but then grew and surged until she had no recourse but to cry it out in amazement.

Still he moved. Still he drank from her, more and more, not stopping. She thought he could never detach himself from her. Would she mind if he could not? Here they were, joined, connected, one being.

He drank and drank.

And now as he sucked dizziness took hold, stronger than before. She tried to fight it but knew it was futile. Still he moved in her and as her head swam and she tried to cling onto something, anything, another orgasm took her and she almost thought it too much, but it was perfect and beautiful. La petite mort, was that not what the French called it? The little death … And such a perfect death. O death, where is thy sting?

He was draining her. He took more and more. His lips moved on her throat, his fangs were still embedded in her neck, and still he ploughed into her, coaxing yet more from her. All the while he himself moaned, low, sonorous groans as if his own life was complete at last.

She came again, and this time it took the last of her sense with it. She was coming to death. And death would come to her.

This time, it carried him with her. She felt the vibration of his moan on her skin, the shudder of his body as his cock released violently inside her at last.

But now the faintness grew too much, and as her last orgasm faded from her, Victoria closed her eyes and let the darkness overwhelm her.

-xoOox-

She woke up.

She was aware of waking up because her fingers were moving. But she supposed you could still move your fingers in heaven. Or hell. Or wherever else she may be.

She didn't quite know if she should open her eyes, but she smelt something. So her nose was still working too, that was a good thing, surely. And what she smelt was familiar – sandalwood, bergamot … Lord M.

And so she carefully lifted her lids and there, looking down at her were green eyes. Green eyes, cheekbones, the same face, the same him.

'Hullo,' he said.

'Where am I?'

'You're in my bed.'

'This is not hell then?'

'If it is, it's considerably more comfortable than I'd anticipated.'

She moved her gaze around. There was the wardrobe, the mirror, the posts on the bed. It was exactly as it had been before.

'Did it happen?'

At this his face lost its little smile, but was no less sincere. 'Yes, my darling, it happened.'

'I am turned?'

'Yes.'

She swallowed. 'I see. But … how do you know?'

'Do not ask me that.'

'No, I will,' she sat up, determined, and felt alert and attuned. Gone was any hint of illness or dizziness. An energy coursed through her which was almost alarming. 'You must tell me. I have a right to know what has happened to me.'

It was his turn to look anxious but he met her gaze again and said, 'Because I killed you.'

'Tell me.'

'I drank from you. I drank and drank until you had no more blood to support you, and you died. I watched you die. I felt you die.'

'But … now …'

'It does not take long for you to reawaken in your new state.'

'Now long?'

'A few minutes only. But, in that time … I was in hell. You lay here, quite pale, quite still, no life in you, no heartbeat, no breath.' The pain in his voice was tangible.

'Did you fear I would not reawaken?'

'Of course. I should know that you would, but there is always that doubt … it was an anxious time, not one I wish to go through again.'

She sat up and wrapped herself about him. 'Oh my darling, you must have been so lonely.'

He drew back and smiled. 'You say that? Even now, when I tell you what I did to you, you think of me?'

'Of course I do … I love you.' He kissed her gently before she continued, 'Tell me what happened after that.'

'Quite suddenly, you drew in a breath, and it was as if all the lights had gone on in the world at once. Everything that had been so ghastly and in such complete darkness was suddenly blindingly and completely wonderful.'

She smiled softly. 'And here I am.'

'Yes, my love. Here you are.'

Suddenly, Victoria reached up and felt her teeth. They were still the same, neat little blunt squares. 'They are no different,' she remarked in surprise.

He laughed. 'No, you know that. They won't be until you …'

'Until I feed.'

'That's right. Victoria, listen to me. From now on, you must not expose your skin to direct sunlight. You must not get too close to a crucifix, nor touch holy water. You will have to return to Brocket Hall frequently as this was the place of your turning. And … you will have to drink blood.'

'Yes. I know.' She looked at him. 'But I don't feel it yet.'

He lowered his gaze. 'It will not be long.'

'When I drank from you last night … did you like it?'

He laughed again. 'Like it? How strange a word to choose. You completed me. You made me whole. You gave me back my self.'

She curled her arms about him. 'I loved it. I want more of you.'

'Vampires cannot share from each other very often, only when we have drunk enough to replenish our own blood.'

'But I will be able to at some point?'

'Yes.'

'And what happens now?'

He smiled and kissed her again. 'We live.'

And once again he laid her back and entered her. She had lost track of how often they had made love in the last day or so, how many times he had brought her pleasure. It was no different now as her new self. She came again swiftly and clung to him as he filled her with his seed yet again.

At length they got up. The walked through the gardens, they ate lunch, they laughed and talked just as they always did. Life was normal. But they were together. She could not consider a time without him by her side. She no longer had to.

But as the morning drew into afternoon a change took hold in her.

It started off as a thirst, but no amount of water could slake it.

And then it became a hunger, one that gnawed and twisted at her, but unlike a hunger for food. She ate an apple, she ate some cheese, nothing satisfied her. This hunger was not one in her belly, but her very soul, although she was not sure she any longer had a soul. As she sat with him in the drawing room as the afternoon lengthened, she stated plainly,

'I am hungry.'

'I shall ask the cook to prepare you some food. What would you fancy?'

'No. I mean … I am hungry.'

Melbourne put the newspaper down and looked up at her slowly. 'Ah … yes. Very well.'

'What can be done? Is there a slaughterhouse nearby?'

'No.'

'Some animals then?'

It suddenly struck her forcefully, and she clutched, not at her belly, but at her chest, as if the hunger emanated from there. 'Oh, dear Lord, I am starving.'

Just then a footman entered and gave Lord M a note. Melbourne took the note and turned away to read it.

Victoria watched the footman intently. He was a handsome young man, with a fine figure which she admired. She noted his broad shoulders, and the way his neck rose up strong. And she saw a vein in the side of his neck. Without a thought, driven by some strange new instinct, she stood up and approached him.

'What is your name?' she asked.

'Barnes, Your Majesty,' he stuttered.

'Barnes …' she muttered, but only stared at his neck. Her mouth was tingling, something pricked and grew inside it.

Oh, she wanted to, she could …

Melbourne suddenly seemed to realise what was happening and tore his attention from the note, hurrying over to them. 'Thank you, Barnes, that will be all.' He ushered the man out quickly then rushed back to her.

'Victoria, Victoria, listen to me.'

'Will you fetch him back?' she said, staring at the door the man had left by, trying to move towards it. 'I liked him very much.'

But Melbourne held her firmly and made her look at him. 'Victoria, it is your hunger. We must address it.'

She turned. There was a mirror on the wall. Victoria moved to it quickly and opened her mouth. She saw them. Sharp, gleaming, white. Fangs. And more, her eyes – red, staring. Her skin was pale and stretched tighter across her cheekbones.

For the first time she was shocked. She brought her hand to her mouth and covered it. 'Oh God!'

Melbourne clasped her to him and held her tight, turning her away from the mirror. 'It is a shock, but you are here with me. Together, we will accustom you to it and you will learn to manage it.'

'I wanted him. I want him still.' She spoke her truth.

'You will. You will want anything you see.'

'I am so terribly hungry.'

He held her close. 'My darling, I have not told you all. There will come a time when you can satisfy your needs with animal blood, but … not at first. At first, you must feed on a living being … on a human.'

She frowned a little at the realisation, but was so desperate to drink that she merely nodded. 'Very well. Help me then, please, help me. I will do what must be done.'

He took her hand and led her from the room. 'Come with me.'

Gathering their outer clothes quickly and a bonnet with a thick veil for Victoria, he led her to the carriage and ushered her in. 'St Albans Prison, with all speed!' he called to the driver.

Victoria stared ahead, that gnawing hunger clawing at her. 'Prison? Why are we going to a prison?'

He did not answer.

It was late when they arrived. Victoria's veil masked her identity. Melbourne hurried up to the gate and whispered to the guards on duty who, without question, let him in. The heavy keys clunked as thick wooden doors were unlocked to them. 'Follow me,' he said to Victoria who hurried along behind him.

The prison's high stone walls were imposing and doom-laden, but Victoria barely noticed. She was consumed by her raging hunger; she could focus only on the need eating away at her. Sense was gone, morals vanquished, the only imperative she knew was for blood.

They arrived at what must have been the administrative rooms of the prison and a smartly dressed man stepped out from an imposing office. He clearly knew Melbourne, who conversed in hushed tones with him. The man glanced at Victoria but said no more, then led them both into the depths of the prison.

It was dark and damp and they were led past cells. Victoria could not see in but occasionally heard moans or curses emerging from behind the locks. But none of it mattered because she was starving. Not like ever before, but new. She noticed that Melbourne held her tight all the way and she was glad of it because the man leading them, although portly and old, began to appeal to her more and more as they went.

Finally, they stopped outside a large wooden door with many locks along it. The man unlocked them all and opened it for them. He said not a word. They walked in and he closed it again behind them.

Inside was a barren cell. There was a straw mattress on the floor, a high window, small, with bars across, a stool, a bucket with a lid. And a man.

Victoria saw only the man. He was no more than twenty-five or so and had a gaunt handsomeness which struck her immediately. His dark blond hair was too long, but he had piercing blue eyes and a finely cut face. He was to be her first. She knew it and was pleased. William had brought her to him.

The man turned to them in shock, standing up quickly from his position on the stool and retreating to the far side of the room. 'Fuck me, what's goin' on? They said tomorrow. I've got until tomorrow!'

Victoria ignored him but simply asked, 'What is your name?'

'Don't tell her,' said Melbourne. She spun to her lover, angry at first but forgetting it almost instantly as all she wanted was to eat.

'Who the fuck are you?' repeated the man.

After a little nod from Melbourne, she stepped towards him and drew back her veil.

'Fuckin' 'ell!' he gasped. 'You're the fuckin' Queen!'

'It doesn't matter,' she said, stepping closer yet to him. 'Nothing matters.'

'What's goin' on?' he said, wringing his hands together. 'Am I pardoned?'

'No,' said Melbourne.

'What then? I'm due to fuckin' hang tomorrow!'

'I know,' said Melbourne again.

'Are you?' asked Victoria, curiosity tinging her hunger. 'For what?'

The man gave a smirk which annoyed her. 'I killed five people.'

'Why?'

'Revenge. Betrayal. A man did me wrong, very wrong. I fuckin' slit his throat and those of all them closest to him.' At that he spat on the floor in disgust. 'I'll fuckin' hang fer it, but I'll never regret.'

A strange twist took hold in Victoria's belly, not disgust as such, but a sense of justice about to be served. She cocked her head to the side. The man's sharp cheekbones and bright blue eyes were almost exotic. 'I see. You are very beautiful for such an evil person,' she observed.

'That s'posed to be a compliment, Ma'am?'

'Don't call me Ma'am.'

'Sorry, Yer Majesty.'

'Don't call me that either. In fact, do not speak at all.' She approached him again and stared at him. 'I do wonder though how you are so very pretty and so very wicked.'

The man shrugged. 'Life. It happens.'

She turned to Melbourne. 'I want to … touch … can I do that?'

Melbourne nodded. 'You may do exactly as you must. There is little choice, Ma'am.'

The man scoffed. 'So he can call you Ma'am but I can't? Who's this? The Lord High Pimp?'

He stepped into Victoria and raked his eyes over her body. Her belly twisted in darkest need. 'What you want then? Sick of all them la-de-das and frills? Want a fancy man who'll treat you rough? Want someone to take a trip up cock alley with you who knows what to do for a change?' At this he glanced at Melbourne. 'Not got it in you, old man, eh? But you like to watch, do you? Fair does. Take a seat. We can give him quite a show, can't we, Vicky, luv? Well, this weren't how I were expectin' to spend me last night on this earth, but I'll gladly service you, little Miss Victoria. How about a tickle of blind cupid, eh?'

She listened to all this with amused detachment. In truth, Victoria could focus on only one thing – the pulse in his neck.

'Yes,' she said and smiled at him. 'How about it indeed?'

The man smirked and stepped in. The Queen placed her hands on his waist then drew one up to his shoulders while the other slid down to cup between his legs. She was curious as to how aroused he was. Very, she discovered.

He laughed out as his breath caught. 'Fuckin' 'ell! You're a good 'un, you are, who'd'a thought it – the fuckin' Queen of England herself!'

Such intense need rose in her that she had to plant her feet. He was pulling up her skirts, reaching underneath, but she was barely aware. The tingling in her mouth had started, her blood starting raging around her veins, and all else was crushed: doubt, guilt, morality. She must feed, that was all.

Victoria strained her neck back and opened her mouth wide.

'Jesus fuckin' Christ!' the man exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock and horror at the sight of the Queen's sharp white fangs.

He staggered back but only came against the wall. It was too late anyway. Victoria was upon him. She gripped him hard by the shoulders – her strength unfeasibly powerful – and, without a moment's hesitation, dropped her head and sank her teeth ferociously into him. It was easier than she thought, the penetration. Blood poured into her mouth the next moment.

It was like nectar itself.

Oh God, had there ever been anything so good?

She swallowed and the blood seeped in and satisfied. She sucked again and more poured into her. She drank it down. The man was moaning. She wished he would be quiet, but she recognised those moans, they were not moans of pain but pleasure. It was too late to be concerned and so she drank on, and on and on.

As she did she felt other hands upon her, warm, strong hands she recognised. Melbourne had approached and drawn his arms around her. She did not detach her fangs and continued to feast on the convict.

'That's right,' came a low whisper in her ear. 'Drink. Drink it all, my love. You must this first time. Take all of him. He would be killed tomorrow anyhow.'

She carried on. Pleasure brewed in her although not in the way it did with Melbourne. She would not let herself come, although it was tempting, especially with the encouraging murmurs and hands of her lover upon her.

She drank and drank. Eventually the man's moans rose to a crescendo but then stopped and she found he was no longer able to stand unsupported. Her hunger was at last assuaged. Her fangs retracted and she lost the grip on his neck. He dropped like a stone to the floor.

Immediately, with blood still pouring from her mouth, Melbourne turned her and kissed her. She gave to him, letting him take some of the blood still in her mouth, sharing it. He kissed her open and deep, until they could do no more.

When at last they drew apart she turned and glanced down at the man. He was dead.

Did she feel guilt? Not at that moment, it must be said.

She felt life at its rawest and purest. There, in a dank cell as she stood with the man she loved, knowing they had all eternity together, she felt triumphant.

'What do we tell the warden?' she asked at length.

'Leave it to me.'

'Does he know you?'

'Let us say it is not the first time I have visited this prison.'

She glanced down at the convict she had killed. 'He was to hang tomorrow.'

'Yes. You simply hastened his end … and, it must be said, made it far more pleasurable. If he could have chosen which end to take … there is no doubt it would have been yours.'

A shudder at last shivered through Victoria, but no more.

'Come,' said Melbourne. 'Let us leave this place.'

She replaced her veil and he led her out. The warden was waiting outside. Victoria walked a little way down the corridor while Melbourne spoke in low whispers to the man. Victoria saw him hand over several bank notes then shake his hand.

Then, swiftly and quietly, they left the prison and returned to the carriage.

It bumped them along and Victoria rested her head on his shoulder.

'I feel so very …'

'What?' he asked.

'New. I feel new.'

'Yes, you will.'

'Does that last?'

'I suppose it does, especially after feeding.'

She turned her head up to look at him. 'Do you not need to feed?'

'My feeding on you the other day will last me some time.'

She smiled softly and rested back on him. 'We are truly now as one, my darling.'

'Yes.'

'I have killed two men in nearly as many days.'

'Do not think on it.'

'I feel no guilt. I wish I did, but I do not,' she observed.

'That is because a feeding makes you initially euphoric.'

'Will the guilt come?'

'I wish I could say no, but … at some point, yes, it will. They will not always be as culpable as that man, or as destined for near death.'

'They? The victims?'

'Yes.'

'But soon I will resort to animals, like you.'

'You cannot yet. You need human blood in your early days. You will seek it out and will be unable to stop yourself. You are young and new, like you said. You are learning, and in these young days your raw instinct will dominate.'

She felt she should be annoyed with him, but could not muster it and merely stroked over his chest with her fingers. 'You did not tell me these things before.'

'No … would it have made a difference if I had?'

'I don't think so.'

The carriage rocked them along. 'I enjoyed it,' she said.

'What?'

'The feeding. Do you mind?'

'No.'

'How strange that I can simply accept it.'

'It is easier when one is with another.'

She turned her head up to him. 'Yes.'

They kissed. She slipped her hand into his breeches and, still kissing him, brought him off in her hand with a natural intuition which staggered him.

When she'd finished he let his head rest back and asked in wonder, 'Where did you learn to do that?'

'I don't know. Instinct.'

He laughed. 'I cannot complain.'

'Am I most wicked?'

'Do not ask me that.'

'So I am?'

'You are now a vampire, Ma'am. A certain amount of wickedness is inevitable.'

'But you will guide me.'

'I will, but most importantly …'

'What?'

'I will love you.'

And he kissed her again and did not stop kissing her until they arrived back at Brocket Hall, at which point he led her up to the bedroom and made love to her, and she to him, until night slipped into day again.

-xoOox-

They stayed at Brocket Hall the next day as Victoria became used to her new state of being. It didn't take long. Melbourne had to go into the village for a time and in his absence she felt as enlivened as ever. Her malaise had gone completely. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin seemed smoother, radiant almost, her eyes shone. She allowed herself a small smile of self-satisfaction, something John Conroy would have been most disapproving of.

Melbourne was upon her and inside her within a few minutes of his return, this time he took her against the door after he had barely closed it. She did not complain, especially when the strength of her orgasm nearly robbed her of sense.

She slid down the door afterwards and stared in near disbelief ahead of her. 'What is happening to us? Surely this is impossible. How can our bodies stand it?'

'It is what happens. Strength, stamina, all are enhanced … you are no longer human.'

'Think of what we can achieve. Of all the good we can do.'

He managed to hide the initial tinge of sadness in his expression. 'Yes. Think of it.'

-xoOox-

They returned to Buckingham Palace the next day.

Victoria swept in and practically dashed up the stairs.

'Your Majesty,' said Emma, struggling to keep up. 'You look most well.'

'I am very well indeed, Emma!'

'I am pleased to hear Lord M's orchids have been of such benefit to you.'

'Well, he does have such wonderful orchids!'

-xoOox-

Victoria summoned all at court to the throne room that afternoon. There was a mumbling as she entered – it was not usual for her to address them all – but they fell silent as she swept in.

She mounted the throne and sat, looking out at her assembled court. Someone was missing from near her.

'Lord Melbourne,' she said loudly. He stepped out from amongst the others. 'Come and take your place beside me.'

She spoke with such authority that nobody could question it, least of all the Prime Minister, who had neither the desire nor the inclination to do so. He walked out and came and stood beside her.

After giving him a smile of supreme satisfaction, Victoria turned and addressed her people.

'I know that you have been worried about my health of late. I wish to inform you that there is no cause for your concern. I am fully recovered from my recent ailment and am in the best health I have ever been. I am reassured in this by the knowledge that I have the best Prime Minister a monarch could want. In Lord Melbourne I have an advisor, friend and companion who I never wish to do without. Rest assured, I shall not. Some question whether I should have ascended to the throne at all. Others questioned how long I would last. Well, I wish to tell you this: I am here to stay. With Lord Melbourne beside me, I shall rule happily and confidently for many, many years to come.'

The court was stunned into silence. There was something about the Queen which compelled them into it. They would not dispute her.

Victoria turned to smile up at her Prime Minister who looked down at her with a ferocious expression of love and devotion.

Together … for as long as eternity gave them.


There we are. Done. I'd LOVE to know your final thoughts, even you lovely lurkers out there. xx

And now ... onwards. Back to Revelation and Deliverance and one or two little Christmas treats for the Vicbourne Advent Calendar at the fabulous For the Love of Vicbourne Facebook group. Do join us, we have so much fun. x