He stood in the shadows, waiting. Lisa was by his side, watching silently. Many others were as well, and all eyes were focused on the building across the street from them.

Lisa hadn't told them where they were going or what their assignment was until they got there. It was supposed to be a job like any other until he saw her go into the building. In a way, he was glad. If he had followed her - and he had thought about it extensively - she might have gotten angry with him, but this was work and now she was a part of it whether or not she liked it.

When she got out of the car, he felt a pang in his chest, seeing how she dressed. The plunging neckline was practically an invitation, and the black fabric of the dress dipped so low down her back that he could see the two little dimples above her sacral bone. Was she planning to tempt the vampire? Why else would she have chosen that dress? He thought back to their conversation the previous morning to reassure himself that it was nothing more than a tactic.


"They called to tell me I need to work nights for the next few days. Just until the full moon ends. They're worried there'll be more attacks and I agree they have good reason to be fearful. Full moons are a time of celebration for vampires and drinking blood is part of their ritual," he told her as she got out of the shower.

The corners of her mouth curled down. "I'm going to miss you. I've grown used to having you in bed next to me."

"It'll be just for a few days. And I'll miss you too." He smirked. "And the bed."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I bet you will."

He laid back in bed and watched her get dressed. Even the smallest things about her enticed him, how she tossed her hair over her shoulder, that small pout she'd get when she was focused, the way she tilted her head to the side and smiled at him - like she was doing right then.

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're looking at something in particular or if I have something on my face?" she asked with a sly smile.

"I'm just admiring the view and wondering what I did to deserve you. I don't tell you nearly enough how exceptional I think you are. And how peculiar I find your love for me. I worry that one day you'll wake and realize you've made a mistake and I'm not the man you think I am. But for now, I'm just drinking you in, hoping that moment won't come too soon."

"I don't like it when you talk like that." Her voice had a tinge of reproach to it. "Being humble is perfectly fine, but don't sell yourself short and don't put me up on a pedestal. Or perhaps you're looking for a fervent declaration of love?"

He smiled and shook his head.

"Good, because I don't have one prepared. I've never known love to be rational, something that can simply be explained away through a sum of objective characteristics that makes one desirable. I quite believe the opposite, that when you can pinpoint exactly what draws you to someone, you risk losing that exact thing because good looks fade, quick wit may dry up at times, jokes don't always draw laughter from lips, erotic prowess might encounter feeble old age and so on."

"Then what remains?" he asked.

"Nothing tangible or even describable. It's a feeling that makes two people agree to take a journey together, through thick and thin, leaning on each other and supporting one another till the end, knowing neither is perfect and accepting to forgive and learn from mistakes."

"Sounds poetic, which is unsurprising, considering it's the subject that has inspired so many poems and songs. But the reality is far harsher. You'll be wadding through a lot of shit if you stay with me... They say death haunts my steps and misfortune follows... and they're not wrong."

"Out of the great many things I fear, that is not one of them."

"Perhaps it should be."

"Are you trying to scare me or get rid of me?" She chuckled, amused.

"Neither, I'm just saying that sometimes fear has its place," he said.

"Maybe, but it does no one any good. 'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.'"

He recognized the words recited to him. "You're quoting Frank Herbert?"

"I sometimes recite the litany of fear to make myself push through whatever I'm facing."

He hummed and looked at the ceiling, wondering what misery he'll inflict upon her through his sheer presence. It was his curse to bring sorrow to his loved ones. One of the many reasons he kept people away.

As if sensing the darkness of his thoughts, she sat on the bed next to him and cupped his face. Her eyes were warm and her voice rang true.

"I will face death and misfortune with you and for you and be better for it."


Her words still rang in his ears as he stood in the dark street. He didn't doubt their truth, yet he feared their consequences and knew he'd go to any lengths to protect her and all others he loved from anything that might threaten them.

She had assured him the meeting would be in a public setting and he believed that to be true until he noticed the guards outside the door wouldn't allow anyone inside. When confronted, Lisa admitted she knew the restaurant to be empty aside from Criss, Reys and a skeleton crew. The vampire wanted a private meeting with her and Geralt all but rushed in when he realized the danger she would be in. Only Lisa's reassurance that they had planted cameras and microphones all over the building kept him in place. He agreed to wait, hoping his fear was misplaced, hoping he wouldn't have to intervene. They would keep watch and, at the first sign of ill intentions, they would storm the place.

It felt like aeons passed, and his patience was wearing thin. He needed to know what was happening inside. Had the vampire tried his tricks on Criss? Could he have succeeded? The thought boiled his blood. His anxiety peaked and his inability to see inside the building drove him crazy. Lisa clutched his arm, sensing his restlessness. For a moment, it worked and served as a reminder that he wasn't alone. Others were keeping watch with him, but at the same time, having to rely on them made him feel helpless.

Just as he was once again telling himself it was only his paranoia, his medallion swung on its chain, vibrating in alarm.

He shook off Lisa's hand. "Something's wrong. We need to go in."

"Wait." She touched her earpiece. "Tell me what's happening." A moment of silence. Her eyes moved to his, and he knew what she was about to say without needing to hear the words. "The feed went dark. We…" He never heard the end of her sentence; he was already crossing the street. A few swift kicks dealt with the hilt of his sword brought down the guards, and he pushed open the door.


Even as she got out of the car Reys had sent to pick her up, she felt something was off. The street was much too empty for a Friday evening in that part of town and men guarded the doors of the restaurant. No doubt, his security.

No matter, she thought to herself, trying to settle her nerves. I knew this was a possibility. This changes nothing.

The men moved aside to let her pass, and she walked in with all the confidence in the world and a smile on her lips.

Inside, the place was empty. No other patrons, not even guards, only Reys. He stood up and smiled with pursed lips while his dark eyes measured her from head to toe with an undisguised look of admiration. She had not erred in her choice of outfit.

He extended an arm towards the only other chair at his table, inviting her to join him. She bowed her head in polite acceptance and approached him. So far, things were going mostly as expected. Her dress had fulfilled its purpose to entice and distract him. While he worked on seducing her, she would have time to worm information out of him.

With little data to go on, she hadn't formed a plan. It was all a game of chance, hoping an opportunity might present itself over the course of the evening. For the time being, she would engage in benign conversation and let things play out.

"I regret not having made your acquaintance earlier, Miss Thompson. You make for a delightful apparition, if I may say."

"Thank you, you are too kind," she replied, feigning flattery. "You can call me Criss. After all, this isn't a very formal meeting, is it?"

She avoided holding his gaze for long, fearing that he might try to gain control over her as he did over Amanda. It was doubtful he could subdue her, but it was best to play it safe.

Her eyes swept over the interior of the restaurant, admiring the intricate decoration. He took notice of her interest.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" He stole a glance at her.

Her eyes glided along the wrought-iron balustrade of the grandiose staircase descending from the upper floor. She took in the swirls and curves, winding like a living organism that had sprouted from the ground and decided to arrange itself to suit man.

"It's beautifully decorated. Art Nouveau at its finest, with a subtle and unexpected modern twist. Opulent, but not overwhelming. A brilliant balance."

"You have a keen eye for styles, but I expected no less from someone of your reputation."

"My reputation? I wasn't aware I had such a thing these days. I've been out of the spotlight for a while and most consider me retired."

"Come now, no need to be humble. Your past work is praised within knowledgeable circles. I happen to think it's exquisite, just as you are." His voice was smooth and low and his compliment much more forward than she expected.

"Thank you for taking an interest in my designs. I didn't take you for an aficionado," she replied, attempting to ignore his advances.

"I like all manner of beautiful things."

She wondered if that's how he saw humans - as things, more or less beautiful. Probably.

A delicate smile fluttered across her lips as she deigned him with a furtive look. One glance was enough to feel him extending his feelers towards her mind. She broke eye contact at once and looked at the painting adorning the wall to her side, trying to make her avoidance seem as natural as possible.

He was moving much faster than she expected. At this point, the chances of her accomplishing her task without giving herself away were slim to none. She had to brace herself for the inevitable confrontation and keep her eyes and ears open. If anything or anyone had attached itself to the vampire, she might feel its aura.

"Perhaps you'll consider becoming a patron for my next project, the one that Amanda recently spoke to you about. After all, that's what this meeting - however informal - is all about, no?"

"Straight to the point! No mucking about!" He laughed. "I like directness in a woman, although delicacy certainly has its place as well."

She replied with a silvery laugh. "I find the direct approach to be more honest. That way all parties know where they stand."

"Then let me repay your directness in kind. My patronage will depend on how pleasant I'll find my evening with you."

He reached for her hand across the table. Before she could pull away, he kissed the inside of her wrist and looked into her eyes for longer than was safely advisable. The result was disastrous, as expected. While the contact allowed her to see through him, the exchange worked both ways, and it permitted him a glimpse of the energy she had amassed inside her. For a split second, he was ethereal steam, and she was embodied light.

A wide grin appeared on his face, and the sight of his teeth would have sent shivers through anyone's bones. She suppressed any reaction. Now it was time to play a different part. She was no longer the human he was trying to entice, but a tool for Order and Balance. Her mind stretched and felt around, looking for any incoming danger, but there was nothing. Only the vampire and his thoughts. For now.

"He warned me they might send someone, but you are not what I had in mind when I imagined that person."

"Really?" she asked coldly. "And what did you expect?"

"I thought for one you would be more... demure."

"You were expecting a nun with a crucifix throwing holy water over you? You would have preferred that?" She smirked.

"Oh, no! It is much better like this! You look like I could actually have a conversation with you... to begin with."

"It's good you wish to converse. That is precisely what I'm here to do. Perhaps we can reach a suitable agreement. I do detest violence in all forms."

"As do I," he replied.

"Hard to believe, considering what you did to Amanda."

"I did nothing she didn't agree to."

"It didn't look like that to me. Or perhaps consent is different for your kind. Is hypnotizing someone into bed considered acceptable?"

"Hardly, but it's what she likes. The full vampire experience or some other non-sense like that she calls it. Poor thing is still under the impression that she can turn into a vampire herself." He waved his hand and smiled. "Too much television rots the brain, but it helps our kind find many willing to offer themselves freely. You'd be surprised how many offers we get from those who discover our true nature."

"You're saying she wanted that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Her senses already sharpened, waiting for a whiff of deception that never came.

"Exactly. And it wasn't her first time, either. Frankly, when I first saw you, I thought you were here to offer yourself to me. Just like her. I imagined she told you what to expect."

She frowned. This explained why Amanda felt so giddy ahead of her tryst with the vampire. Suddenly, something that seemed straightforward was no longer so simple.

"If you have willing humans, then why do your kind hunt?"

"That's a naïve question. It's like asking why do humans break the law when they know they might be caught and punished. There are rotten apples in all barrels, ours included. But their misdeeds have led to the extermination efforts your people are making. For the past few years, since our existence has become known to your government, your kind has murdered in cold blood too many others who had been living peacefully among you. You have numbers on your side, but we have allies to help us turn the tide before you wipe us out."

"These allies you've chosen, who are they?"

"Ah, so that's why you're here!"

"Perhaps I can offer you a different deal."

"What deal? Another Conjunction? Dump us in another world?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not for me to decide. But maybe a way to peace. Our goal is always Balance."

The vampire's brows joined in a frown, and for a moment Criss felt a glimpse of hope radiating from him. He was ready to hear her out.

"That sounds reasonable. We could…" his voice trailed off as a dark cloud filled the room. It slid through the air with unerring precision and speed. Before she could so much as utter a word, it coiled around the vampire's body and drained itself into him. What stood before her was no longer Reys, but something much more dangerous. His face contorted malevolently and his voice grew deeper and darker.

"You're not taking him. He's mine."

"Only as long as he agrees, but he's already doubting you. He saw another way."

"Yes, your way. Or better said their way." Darkness and disdain oozed from every word. "Their way means suffering, asks for obedience, demands we be placed on the board as pawns. Their Conjunctions have brought countless to their end. I offer him power. Truth."

"Illusions," she scoffed. "You offer him a collar and a chain, its end forever in your hand, yanking him wherever you please."

"I can say the same about them. You have your own little chain around your neck and the illusion of choice. They show you nothing, they tell you nothing. They wipe your minds clean and send you here to fight, telling to walk in the light with them, while keeping you blind. Why be a slave when you can be a master?" his voice echoed enticingly.

"A master of what, exactly? The foulest creatures imaginable? Power to do what? To corrupt? You can't even take shape without the help of some poor creature you've tricked with your honeyed promises. They'll take you back if you wish to return…"

"I'll never return!"

His face twisted into an ugly grimace. Barring his fangs, his eyes darkened with murder and his claws grew long and sharp as daggers. In one lunge, he was upon her. He was impossibly fast, and she couldn't get out of his way. His claws cut through the flesh and bone of her shoulder with a sickening crunch, pinning her to the wall behind her while his other hand prepared to strike decisively. The pain that shot through her almost rendered her unconscious.

"You are weak and pathetic!" His voice boomed and she couldn't even disagree with him. At that moment, she was sure she would die.

The door to the restaurant flew open and, to her astonishment and horror, Geralt was standing in the doorway, sword drawn, ready to attack. It distracted the beast long enough for her to gather her force in a spell that flung the possessed vampire back. His claws tore through her ligaments, leaving her with a deep wound and unable to move one arm. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her shoulder, and watched as Geralt launched himself at the vampire in a flurry of silver.

His first strike slashed the vampire across the chest before it could roll out of the way, but the next one he parried with his claws. She looked on as the beast pushed Geralt back, trying to knock him off his feet, but the witcher was prepared for him. He twisted out of the way and lunged at the vampire's side, cutting him again. From every gash, darkness spilt out, then sealed the wound. Geralt's silver was no match for the vampire, not while he was possessed.

She needed to give him the upper hand. Her chest heaved as she drew in any strand of light she could, then focused to create mirror images of her and Geralt.

Now dozens of witchers surrounded the vampire as her own face stared at her from across the room. She picked herself off the floor, drawing power and focusing on her spell while Geralt hacked at the vampire. It tried to fight back, but each shape he attacked vanished in a wisp of light, blinding him momentarily. Her shape and Geralt's multiplied, surrounding the damned one. He thrashed violently, pointlessly trying to claw at the real ones, but only hitting illusions. She cast a protection spell over Geralt to keep him safe. The barrier flickered just in time to catch the blow.

"Stop hiding! You'll run out of light and I'll kill you both!"

Between the shapes, Geralt moved silently, bobbing and weaving, ever-closer to his target until he was upon him. He knocked him to his knees, then his sword pierced his chest and nailed him to the wall. She was right beside him, preparing for her last gamble. Her hand made contact with the beast's chest and she crumbled to her knees. She didn't know if the roar of pain was hers, his, or both. It was an angry beastly sound nothing human could ever make. It took every bit of power she had left to detach, extract, and banish the demon from the vampire's form.

As Geralt drew his sword from the unconscious vampire, an army of men and women rushed into the room, weapons at the ready to strike them down. She gathered what strength she had left to crawl between them and the vampire, shielding him with her body, holding out the hand she could still move in front of her face, hoping they would stop. She was too spent to cast any protection spell. Only their goodwill and understanding could save them. In the end, neither was sufficient.

She heard them arm their weapons, closed her eyes and prepared to die.

The bullets never came. She opened her eyes and Geralt stood in front of her, his face to them.

"None of you better fucking dare!"

"Don't fire on her! I repeat, don't fire on the woman!" a voice was yelling desperately through a communication device. To her relief, the muzzles lowered. Geralt turned his back to them and knelt next to her.

"Come on, let them deal with him. I'll take you home now." His voice was soft and soothing.

"I can't..." Her words barely came out. "They have to make peace..."

"Peace? He tried to kill you!"

A look of disgust crossed his face as he looked over her shoulder at the unconscious mass that was the vampire. She shook her head. Her mouth was dry, and she felt a fire burning her throat with each word, but they were too important to keep in.

"He was possessed. It wasn't him. The vampires want peace. He was about to agree when… Please... convince them to listen..."

He looked at the guns pointed at them, then back at her. His jaw clenched. He was deciding on something, but on what, she didn't know. He turned again, his eyes searching for someone. "Lisa!" The brunette's face appeared from among the black-clothed mass of people.

"What, Geralt?"

"Get the Director... It's important."

She nodded and disappeared into the crowd. His golden eyes were on her again, a look of worry etched on his face. He scoured her wounds, appraising the damage. His hands desperately tried to put her arm back together and stop the blood that was seeping between his fingers.

"You're losing a lot of blood. You're going to pass out soon. Can't you heal this?"

She shook her head and hope drained from his eyes.

"Not alone. I'm spent, I need light. Kiss me," she asked.

"Don't make me kiss you goodbye," his voice was hoarse and angry tears welled up in his eyes.

"No… not goodbye. For once, just listen to me and kiss me."

His lips sealed hers in a desperate kiss full of sorrow and pain. Powerful energy drained back into her. It moved through every cell in her body, making it glow and burn, and as it did, she felt her strength return to her. It was enough for her to reignite the light inside her.

"How?" He looked at her closing wound in disbelief.

"Our energy is compatible. I just needed a bit from you to stop the bleeding."

She was already patching herself up, putting the useless arm back into place and keeping it there while the flesh reattached itself. It stung powerfully, and she let out a hiss.

He watched her, worry etched on his face.

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she reassured him.

"You looked anything but fine a moment ago. Let me take you home."

His hand cupped her face, and she leaned into his touch. She could feel that sparkle of energy coming off him even through the leather glove. There was nothing more she wanted than to leave that place, but her job wasn't done yet. Her eyes darted across Geralt's shoulder to the Director who was making his way through the blockade that surrounded them.

"I have to see it through or this will have been for nothing." She looked back into his eyes. "Please don't judge me for what I'm about to do and say."

Although she was at her weakest, they didn't know it. She needed to project strength and authority. As the vampire said, television rots the brain and helps men lean into their beliefs. The illusion of power, a simple light show, would be impressive enough to get them to listen to her - and then to each other. Or so she hoped.

"You wanted to speak to me?" he asked.

"She did," Geralt simply pointed at her.

Without a second thought, she stood and let the power inside her shine through her skin. The Director froze in place and a few men raised their guns. She cast a protection spell - the most visually impressive she knew - and fought to keep up the charade. Geralt's hand rested on her lower back and she felt the energy emanating from him, amplifying her own. With him by her side, she could do this.

"I wish to facilitate a truce between the two races."

The Director's eyes narrowed visibly and motioned to the men to lower their weapons.

"What makes you think they would or could want that?"

She dropped the shield and beckoned him forward. He approached, wary and guarded.

"I won't bite," she assured him. "I only mean to give you proof."

She took his hand, and a torrent of images rushed to his mind. Images she had seen in the vampire's mind when she banished the demon. The Director looked over her shoulder at the shapeless form lying on the ground. A crease formed between his brows.

"I need to make a few calls. Get approvals."

She nodded. "I know you'll both have conditions and terms. I shall mediate the agreement and make sure both parties abide by what is decided." She glanced over her shoulder. The vampire was coming to his senses. The weapons raised menacingly, accompanied by the sound of the safety being pulled.

"Lower your weapons!" said the Director in a commanding voice and raised his hand. "Let's grab some chairs and sit down to discuss terms."

Criss extended a hand to the vampire to help him off the ground.

"This is your one and only chance to make peace. I won't extend the courtesy a second time."

He looked at her in disbelief. Trying to regain a modicum of dignity, he stood and straightened his clothes, shaking the dust from them.

They sat at the table where they were supposed to have dinner and began their negotiations. Geralt never left her side, his watchful eyes looking for any sign of weakness on her part.

A few hours, many phone calls and approvals later, they had an agreement and a permanent truce. It allowed the higher vampires, moolas, bruxas, katakans and nosferats to settle among humans without persecution - provided they all agreed to forego any wish to drink from a living human. The vampire leaders would assure that any transgressor was swiftly punished, and the humans would provide nourishment through blood banks. They would make a joint effort to eliminate all ekimmas and fleders since their kind were incapable of restraining themselves and their attacks on humans always resulted in death and/or mutilation of the victim.

The Director and the vampire shook hands on behalf of their respective races, sealing the pact with the rest of them as witnesses.

She dimmed the light inside her and returned to her normal appearance, before leaning back into Geralt's chest, sighing a breath of relief. He silently wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed her cheek. It was over and they had reached the best outcome possible. But now that the adrenaline and sense of purpose were gone, she felt the full brunt of the earlier fight. She relaxed into his arms, and exhaustion washed over her.

"Be strong a little longer," Geralt whispered in her ear as he guided her to the car.

Once inside the parking, he helped her out and waited for the car to leave before one of his hands coiled around her back while the other grabbed under her knees. He lifted her effortlessly and carried her inside.

With the utmost care, he placed her on the bed and then disappeared for a short while. She wanted to ask him to stay, but was too tired to will the words out of her lips. For a moment, she dozed off, until he lifted her off the bed. She nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck.

"I ripped out all of their surveillance devices and drew you a bath," he said as he took her into the bathroom, undressed her and lowered her into the perfumed hot water.

The heat felt wonderful and soothing, just like Geralt's voice cooing in her ear. "You'll be fine. I'll take care of you," he said as he washed the blood off her. She remembered through a haze how he lifted and swaddled her in a towel before carrying her to bed and tucking her in. The sleep she drifted into was akin to death.

She woke late in the day, wrapped tightly in Geralt's arms while he kept silent watch over her sleep. The dark circles under his eyes spoke to his own exhaustion.

"Morning, handsome," she said with a tired smile.

"I thought I'd lost you." His face was stern, but his eyes were warm with concern. If possible, she loved him even more right at that moment.

She snuggled up closer to him and kissed the crook of his neck and any other area of skin that was exposed and within reach.

"You won't get rid of me that easily," she whispered through the kisses. "I'm nothing if not resilient."

He caressed her hair and lifted her chin to look into her eyes.

"I'm serious. It killed me to think I was kissing you for the last time."

She wriggled a hand out from under the covers. Her fingers traced a line from the crease in his forehead to his temple, down his cheek and over his lips. He kissed her palm, then her lips. It felt like the sweetest, softest kiss she had ever experienced. She returned the kiss with just as much care and gentleness, holding back any neediness or desperation she felt. They moved slowly, as if wanting to memorize each feeling and sensation. Between hushed I-love-yous, they moaned each other's name, whispered promises and made love with reckless abandon for as long as their bodies endured, then slept a careless sleep knowing they would wake in the arms of the one they loved.