At From Hell Court:

Delano *sinks down in a chair in his room at the tavern.  He went to the little clearing behind the gypsy’s house again today; hid behind the trees and observed everything that went on when she went to see Blake again.  With his keen senses, he heard everything that was said in the wagon; he felt both sad for the gypsy and the poet, but also hope … at least Blake seemed to remember a little of his previous life, maybe in time he’d remember it all.*

*He lifts a glass from the table next to him and takes a large drink … as a vampire, he doesn’t need any other fluids or food than blood, but he likes the way alcohol feels … the burning sensation as it runs down your throat and the way it settles in and relaxes you.  As he drinks, he thinks about the gypsy … thinks about how deeply she must love her poet to enter that wagon, despite knowing what he is, what he has become*

*Bearing witness to their love and affection reminds him of Loralee … of their good times, those few moments when she wasn’t obsessing over LaCroix and revenge.  She was so passionate, so beautiful … and so deadly that even some vampires feared her.  Of course, part of that also had to do with the fact that she could be smiling and talking sweetly with a soft voice in one moment and try to kill you in the next.  Strong as she was, she could be so weak at times, like a small child.  And it always filled him with the urge to protect her.  He seemed to be the only one who could talk her down when she was furious and make her smile when she was sad.  And he loved doing it.  It made him hope, at least for a moment, that she needed him as much as he needed her.*

Delano *is torn out of his trip down memory lane when there’s a knock on the door; he rises from the chair and opens the door letting in his visitor, another vampire … one of the students he and Loralee turned to use as assistance the night she was killed*  Bonjour …

Alex:  Hello Delano … you asked around for me, I hear.

Delano *sits back down in the chair*  Yes, I did … *looks at him intently*  You were a student, right?  So you’re smart … know your way around books?

Alex *not without pride*  Yes, I should think so.  I studied folklore, actually.  Funny, at the time I thought those people who believed in vampires were ridiculous …

Delano *smiles*  If only your professors could see you now … *grows serious*  I need you to look into something for me.

Alex:  What?

Delano:  I want you to find out if there is a way of bringing back a slain vampire … I’ve heard stories about it, but just like humans having their folklore, we have ours.

Alex:  Well, some say that there is some truth in every folklore … I’ll look into it.  *Hesitates*  You want to bring back Loralee, don’t you?

Delano:  You don’t need to worry about that.  Just do the research.

Alex:  All right … Better get on that, then.  *Leaves Delano alone to this thoughts.*

At the University Library:

Alex *was already thinking about where to begin his research before he’d even reached the street when he left Delano.  On his way out of From Hell Court he tried to remember his time at the university and soon enough he remembered that he and his study group researched the possibility of the existence of vampires.  They never got far with it as focus was soon on upcoming mid-terms, but he remembered coming across an old book, which might prove useful.*

Alex *enters the university library late at night.  The library is open all hours, but few visit it this late.  Still he pulls up the collar of his jacket and wears a hat as a disguise … after all, his friends think he’s dead.  He quickly finds the shelves containing books on folklore.  He walks along the shelf reading the titles of the books; smiles to himself when he finds the one he was looking for.  He pulls out a heavy, old, and fragile book intitled “Vampyrs”.  He considers sitting down by a table, but decides it’s too risky if anyone who knows him should show up, so he puts the book inside his coat – although it is far too thick to hide that way – and hurries out of the library, ignoring the alarm that goes off due to the little magnet on the back of the book.  He grabs a pen and a few sheets of paper from the front desk on his way.*

Alex *heads back to Sleepy Hollow woods; not needing much light to read, he sits down by a tree and begins reading by the light of the moon.*

At Bournemouth House:

Kat *discussing her delivery with Abberline*  O'course it'll 'elp. Lessin' ye go faintin' on me, eh?

Abberline:  Me faint?  You forget who you are talking to.  I am a policeman, you wouldn't believe what I have seen and witnessed in my work.  *after a while, adds less confidently*  Though never a childbirth ...

Kat:  First time for e'erythin' luv.  By the way, there be some people waitin' outside, they want te apply to be Chiana's nanny.  Thought ye'd best 'ave a look at 'em.  *Smiles*

*Followed by a curious array of lasses, including Wonder Woman, lol!

At From Hell Court:

Alex *quickly flips the pages of the book, skipping the sections of where vampires hail from and what they are.  These are things he’s read about before during his time at university and he hardly needs to read up on what vampires are at this point.  He begins reading the pages more thoroughly and taking a few notes as he reaches the section of the resurrection of slain vampires.  The book speaks of the ritual as a myth, but what books sometimes refer to as myth is in fact real.  He considers himself living proof of that.  As soon as he is sure that it’s the right ritual, he closes the book, grabs his notes and heads back to From Hell Court.  He knocks on Delano’s door, but there is no answer, he tries calling out, but the room is silent.  He shrugs and sits down on the floor, deciding to wait for Delano to return*

At Sleepy Hollow Woods:

Delano *has gone to the cave again … he had decided to stay at the tavern in his room and wait for Alex to return with answers, but he grew impatient and told himself that this kind of research would take a long time.  So he left the tavern.  More out of boredom than hunger, he relieved another ‘misfortunate’ from her miseries … a young woman with long dark hair, a beautiful woman if you saw past her weary expression.  But she had reminded him of Loralee and he almost felt sad at having taken her life.  He almost fled towards the woods after looking at her lifeless face on the ground.*

*He stays at the cave for a while, thinking of Loralee … wondering if she would be same if they were successful in bringing her back.  Wondering if she would still be consumed by the desire for revenge.  He decides that there is no sense in deluding himself into thinking that she will be different, that she will ever be his wholeheartedly.  A part of her will probably always love LaCroix, but he still can’t help hoping that maybe he will take first place.  He leaves the cave again and wanders aimlessly around the woods.  And again, without intentionally going there, he finds himself at the spot where Loralee was slain.  He sits down leaning against a tree, for a moment wanting to weep at the loss of his dark queen.  He leans his head back against the tree-trunk and closes his eyes as he hums one of Loralee’s favourite songs.*

*Something like a high-pitched buzzing is filling his consciousness, his thoughts, his mind, and he wishes he could scream, or even speak of his misery, but he cannot.  He’s aware of someone approaching the area, sitting down against a tree, and to his horror, he realizes it’s Delano, the very man responsible for his -- he doesn’t even know what to call it, his condition … he thinks he surely must be in hell, to have to share this place with this man.  But what could he have done differently?  He had to stop Loralee, after what she was doing to hurt his love, his Manouche.  Manouche had done nothing to Loralee, it was all a terrible mistake, how many times had he and Delano both tried to reason with her … *

*Delano is humming, adding to the din in his head.  He fears an abyss that he senses more than he actually sees, but it’s there waiting for him, he knows; and he fights it with all his might, and once again he thumbs through his memories for the two things that have helped him maintain all this time, his poetry, and thoughts of Manouche … his mind’s eye is soothed by visions of his beautiful gypsy girl, but he needs words to fill his head, to drown out the sound of Delano's humming, so he thinks of poetry … *

The sun descending in the West
The evening star does shine
The birds are silent in their nest
And I must seek for mine
The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night ...

*He sees Delano shiver slightly, pulling his coat closer around him … he wonders if his poetry has put a chill in the air … he supposes anything is possible, and quickly adds to himself that he hopes that also means nothing is impossible, if only he could return to what he once knew, or barring that, put an end to all this, because he’s not sure how much more he can bear … and he feels something akin to tears, and the wind howls … *

At Corso’s hideout:

Corso *still grinning after Manouche, answers the phone*  Charlie?  Another victim?  Didn't I tell you lad to keep your hands off this business, it's not for the likes of you, no, don't try to interrupt ...  WHAT?  Say it again …  By the Devil and his Dad, you can't mean it.  Yes, I heard you.  So we do have an eyewitness .. .Two eyewitnesses?  Some junkies and drunks, Charlie, they don't amount to mu...  Ivan?  Did he really see for himself ... Now this is great news indeed.  Now we have two eyewitnesses who have seen the night stalker at the job.  Did they recognize the stalker?  *Corso almost drops the phone, his mouth drops open, and he sits down on the dirty opium den couch*  Bloody hell, that's a familiar face indeed!  Now this is what you have to do.  Run along to Portsmith and tell her that the stalker has been seen and identified.  She will no doubt reward you when you tell her who it is.  *laughs*  Who would have believed!  How strange!  The Commander will be able to march to the town in all her uniformed glory and make a good scene of the arrest, ha ha ... The body?  Don't touch it.  You must never move the body.  I will take care of it.  *he shuts the cell phone, whistles to himself as he puts the books in his bag and goes to collect the dead victim, and he mutters to himself*  Soon, Loralee …

At Sleepy Hollow Woods:

Delano *stops humming, senses something, like a presence, but when he listens for it, he hears nothing but the sound of woods and when he looks around he sees nothing but the trees.  He shudders again … strange, he never notices temperatures, but still he feels a chill in the air.  For a moment he wonders if it’s a spirit coming to haunt him, but he quickly discards the thought and tells himself that he must be losing his mind.  He has no doubt that spirits, ghosts, and the like exists, but one of his victims were to haunt him, it probably would have happened a long time ago.  Still, he decides to leave and go back to From Hell Court to see if Alex has any news.*

At Rartigillichal:

Blake *awakening late in the day, finds that he has been left alone.  He slowly emerges from the wagon, sees that the campfire has been doused, and Courbet and Jerod are nowhere to be found.  He stretches, finds that he feels better than he’s felt in quite some time – stronger, at least, though no less miserable over what he has become.  He’s not sure how much longer he wants to wait, not sure how many more times he wants to try whatever Jerod has to suggest.  He’s fast reaching a point where he would prefer to simply have Jerod put him out of his misery.  He frowns, then thinks of the woman he had seen earlier, Manouche, and he once again feels the confusion he had felt when they had talked.  What was it about her … he wishes he could pinpoint it.  He sighs, then soon feels the hunger, and his self-loathing is piqued.  He knows he must find nourishment, but the idea is still as appalling to him as ever.  He thinks of the vampires who, after trying to help him, quickly turned away from him in disgust at his reluctance to kill.  He scowls as he remembers them.  Did they think he enjoys feeling this way?  He sighs again, starts walking away from the camp.  The hunger won’t leave him; like it or not, he must do something about it.*

*He wanders around aimlessly for awhile, then finds himself on Manouche’s property, though he doesn’t know it’s hers.  He soon realizes his mistake; looking off in the other direction, he sees that he should be heading for the woods instead, where perhaps he can catch a small animal or two to sate his hunger.  He starts to turn around, but his curiosity about the property gets the better of him, and he decides to look around a little more before going in search of sustenance.  He comes upon the first building of the property, enters, and is surprised to see two horses and a colt.  The sight of the animals, and the scent of their blood, fires his hunger unbearably, and he’s unable to resist.  He slowly starts to approach the mare, who stamps her hooves nervously, then whinnies loudly as he comes closer … *

Manouche *her voice deadly*  Leave them horses be.

Blake *turns to see her standing in the doorway, pistol drawn.  He quickly covers his amazement at the fact that she was able to take him unawares; he nods at the gun, grins*  Surely you know that weapon is useless against me.

Manouche *hesitates*  A-aye … I do know that.  I reckon it’s jus’ … impulse.  *she lowers the pistol, but she continues to look him sternly in the eyes*  I’m still gonna ‘ave to insist that ye leave them horses alone.

Blake:  Is that so?  *he turns away from the horses, comes toward her*  They must mean a lot to you.  But they’re just horses.  You can always get more horses.

Manouche:  It ain’t up fer debate, savvy?  Subject’s closed, mate, shove off.  *she wants to break down and cry, she can’t believe she’s having this conversation with him; but she remains calm, continues to watch him carefully, her voice firm*

Blake *moving still closer to her, laughs*  Well … I have to feed on something, don’t I?  *he stands directly before her, and he hides his surprise that she doesn’t flinch or back away from him*  What would you suggest?  *he grabs her, takes her in his arms*  Perhaps it’s time I follow the advice of my peers and move on to human prey …

Manouche *voice slightly shaky, but she still gazes into his eyes*  I – I don’t believe ye’ll do that.  I d-don’t believe ye want to.  I don’t believe ye h-have any desire t’ do that …

Blake:  You don’t, eh?  *he holds her tight, swiftly grasps her hair and pulls her head back, bends her backward; he leans over her, his lips grazing her exposed throat*  And what in the world is there to stop me?  There’s no one around for miles, no one will hear you scream for help.  I have to feed or perish.  Why shouldn’t I choose you as my victim … you look very delicious to me …  *he opens his mouth wider*

Manouche *sees his fangs, closes her eyes, whispers*  J-Je t'aime …

Blake *pauses, looks at her questioningly*

Manouche *eyes still closed, suddenly recites some of Blake’s verse that comes to her; she has no idea why, but she goes with it*

When wolves and tigers howl for prey
They pitying stand and weep
Seeking to drive their thirst away
And keep them from the sheep
But, if they rush dreadful
The angels, most heedful
Receive each mild spirit
New worlds to inherit …

Blake *looks at her curiously; his arms tightly wrapped around her begin to shake, and he hears himself responding:*

And there the lion's ruddy eyes
Shall flow with tears of gold
And pitying the tender cries
And walking ‘round the fold …

Manouche *opens her eyes as his voice trails off, and she gazes at him, not knowing what to say*

Blake *stares at her, wide-eyed*  Wh-what was that? …

Manouche *swallows*  That … that were yers, love.  You wrote it …

Blake *struggling with his thoughts, and the relentless hunger that’s almost painful, tries to will himself to continue, to attack her.  He looks at her again, sees tears in her eyes, and he’s suddenly filled with a deep compassion that he’s not sure he’s ever felt before for anyone or anything; if he has, he thinks it must have been long ago.  He pulls her close, crushes her against his chest, sobbing, and they slowly sink to the floor*

Manouche *holds him, murmuring*  Easy, love, shhh …

Blake *trembling, his voice muffled in her hair*  I … I don’t understand … I don’t know who you are … I don’t even know who I am …

Manouche:  W-we’re tryin’ t’ help ye, straight up.  We’re tryin’ …

Blake *moans*  No!  *pulls away from her; grips her by the arms, hurting her, stares at her, wild-eyed*  The only way you can help me is to get those fools to listen to me.  Jerod knows how to do it, he can destroy me.  *he frowns as he sees tears roll down her cheeks*  Don’t.  S-stop that …  I can’t go on like this, you don’t understand … *he winces, ducks his head for a moment, as if in severe pain; he looks up at her, shakes her, hard*  Please, I’m begging you … make them understand.  *he looks around from side to side desperately, as if he’s being surrounded by captors; then he pulls her to him, kisses her lips passionately.  He releases her, pushes her backward, jumps to his feet; he looks down at her, lying back on some of the straw that covers the floor of the stable*  I have to go.  I have to go now, or I’ll kill you.  *he gazes at her, eyes filled with despair*  I -- I’m sorry.  I won’t hurt your horses, I promise.  *he turns away from her, staggers toward the door, runs outside, into the twilight*

Manouche *scrambles to her feet, runs to the door, steps outside looking all around, but he’s gone without a trace.  She lowers her head, wipes the tears from her eyes, goes back into the stable to calm the horses.  She pets each of them, speaking softly, till they’re no longer fussing, and she gives them extra food, checks their water.  She leaves the stable, locks the door, looks around one more time, still sees no sign of Blake.  She sighs deeply, walks slowly back to the house to pour a very strong drink, rest awhile, and count the hours and minutes until time to meet Corso*

At From Hell Court:

Delano *makes it up the stairs to his room at the tavern and sees Alex sitting on the floor waiting with a thick book in his arms; unlocks the door and enters his room followed by Alex*  Find anything useful?

Alex *smiles satisfactorily*  Indeed, I did!  *Turns serious*  Although … the books says the ritual is only a myth, so there are no guarantees it’ll work.

Delano *glares at him*  Make it work!

Alex *now realizing the pressure put on him starts explaining nervously*  OK … we need a wooden box or cage, five sacrifices … *hesitates; quietly* … vampires …

Delano *muttering*  That’ll make us popular … *sinks into the chair and pours a drink*  Go on.

Alex:  We also need a personal object of Loralee’s and some incense … apart from the sacrifices, it’s fairly simple; you put the personal object inside the box, chain the sacrifices to the box, burn the incense while saying the so-called magic words.

Delano *gently touches the necklace he’s wearing … a gold necklace with a heart-shaped pendant with a black gemstone.  It’s all he has left of her; looks at Alex intently*  Do you think it will work?

Alex *not sure if he should say what Delano wants to hear or be honest; quietly*  I … I don’t know.

Delano *gulps down the drink and rises*  Go get a hold of the box and incense … *smiles grimly*  I’ll go find our sacrifices.

Alex *grins*  Happy hunting!