Eye of the Beholder (complete)

[Gabriel Rodermark]

It was late evening and the staff of the Barbican Arts Centre were almost finished escorting the last of the days visitors out of the main gallery. With a new photography exhibit only recently installed, it had been a busy day and the staff welcomed the peace and quiet of an early closing. They had been instructed by the senior staff that a proprietor had hired the building for the evening. After the damage taken at the private party the gallery hosted at New Year, some staff were dubious but not about to disagree with the prospect of a night off. A handful remained, though they were only security, who would have to remain the whole night regardless.

In the gallery's foyer, the very man responsible for the early closing – Gabriel Rodermark - stood waiting, accompanied by a tall, blond woman. They looked a fine couple, both fair skinned, possessing elegance and beauty.

“Who is she, then?” the woman asked.

Gabriel smiled evasively, though was evidently somewhat vexed. “I'm sure you'll meet her eventually, Elizabeth. For the time being, be content in knowing that she is a good friend of mine.”

The blond rolled her eyes, and was about to protest when a voice came over the foyer intercom.

“Mr. Rodermark, there is a Miss Martin here to see you.”

A mischievous smile spread over Elizabeth Atkinson's lips. “Miss Martin!”

“Send her in,” Gabriel replied.

[Sansa]

She'd been a distracted mess all week. Sansa smoothed her new coat - a sleek black number that showed off her long lines - and started up the steps to the Barbican Arts Centre. After Tuesday evening she'd found herself daydreaming about Gabriel Rodermark at the most unfortunate moments.

The Brown's hadn't noticed the small changes in her behavior, but Emilie had. Her sharp eyes had scrutinized her on Thursday, and she'd demanded to know who the bloke was that had Sansa in such a twitterpated state, but she hadn't been ready to talk about Gabriel. Not yet. Especially not to Emilie, who would probably end up trying to steal Gabriel from her, whether by accident or on purpose.

Once directly outside the Barbican she loosened the scarf from around her neck and sought out someone who could point her in the correct direction. The security guard spent a moment talking on an intercom, but soon directed her to the door to the foyer and let her inside.

Sansa stepped in a little uncertainly, but quickly brightened when she saw Gabriel standing a few feet away. There was a tallish blond woman with him, but it was such a relief to see him that the girl hardly noticed his companion. "I hope I'm not late," she smiled, "One of the trains was late on the way here."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“Not to worry-”

“Yes, don't worry. I've been keeping him company for you, anyway,” Elizabeth interrupted, looking Sansa slowly up and down. “Aren't you going to introduce us, Gabe?”

“Sorry,” I smiled, though it was somewhat forced. “Sansa, this is Elizabeth, a good friend of mine, she's a photographer... Elizabeth, this is Sansa. We only met a short while ago, but we've become rather close already. Elizabeth was just leaving...”

“Yes, I'm terribly sorry I can't stay and join you on your little tour.” Elizabeth only feigned irritation, and it was evident. She was quick to embrace me, placing a kiss on each cheek before stealing away into the night. “See you soon, darling.”

Alone at last, I smiled with much greater sincerity. “Hello, you. Good to see you. How's the week been?”

[Sansa]

Happy to have him to herself again, Sansa felt more relaxed than she had all week. "Oh, you know. Work, and all that." She walked a bit closer to him, taking off the coat she'd splurged on earlier in the week to reveal a v-necked sweater and black slacks.

"I... I kept thinking about you." She flushed lightly, draping her coat over her arm.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“Oh, really? Thinking good things, I hope?” I asked, quirking a curious eyebrow.

“You can leave your coat behind the counter if you like. It'll be safe – we have the place to ourselves.”

[Sansa]

She laughed, "Oh yes, good things."

Sansa quickly located a spot for her coat and returned to his side. "So we're all alone?" He looked down at her with a grin in his eyes, and she made a face. "That's not what I meant. Just its Friday the thirteenth and big empty museums and such tend to make me nervous. Not that I'm superstitious." She grinned, running her hands through her hair to loosen the wavy curls. The bruise on her forehead was nearly completely gone, and she'd dabbed a bit of makeup on it to hide it fully.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“Not completely alone. I'm sure he'll keep any masked marauders at bay,” I nodded ahead to the entrance to the gallery, where a rather scrawny young man in a black security uniform stood in silent vigil. There were others dotted about the centre here and there, largely motionless, like statuettes.

We began to walk, and passed by the young guard. I noted the name on his identity badge – Jason – and smiled politely as we entered the gallery proper. “I'm afraid that a number of the exhibits haven't changed since before Christmas, though we have just replaced one of the older displays with a new photography collection.”

[Sansa]

Sansa tried not to giggle as they passed the weedy looking security guard, and looked up and around herself as they entered the gallery. She could not remember much of the New Years' party, and what she did remember didn't seem to match up completely with the exhibits that were now up.

"It doesn't matter if they haven't changed - I didn't get to see very much on New Years, and that is the only time I've been here before." Sansa took his arm without consciously thinking about it, letting him lead her onward.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Roland and the others had done a stand-up job of returning the gallery to a satisfactory state. The kine in charge had barely noticed that difference, save for the collapse of the ceiling-mounted sculpture which was attributed to design faults in the suspension system.

The various tiers of the gallery were staffed by at least one guard each. I could feel them peering down towards us, whilst trying to appear not to do so. I stifled a chuckle. Who could blame them? They were only mortals, after all. Silently I wondered if returning to the gallery might trigger any recollection in Sansa of what had happened the last time she had visited it. It would be a test of the hold that I had over her, to see if she could go the entire evening without questioning the hazy details of the New Year.

“The ground floor has the newest exhibition, a selection of photographs by Bill Brandt (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Brandt)... interesting stuff,” I explained, as I lead the way to the first picture. “I'm not sure that these pieces are as popular with the tourists as the more traditional displays... there seems to still be some stigma around the depiction of the naked human body... odd.”

[Sansa]

She gazed on the first photograph, a fully nude woman reclining back away from the camera with her face averted. "Brandt.. Brandt... Nineteen-sixties, yes?"

Sansa looked away, her cheeks a little pink though she told herself it was from the cold outside. "I suppose in their minds seeing nudity as Michaelangelo's David is more acceptable than a photograph." She smiled up at Gabriel, pleased to be near him.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“Perhaps,” I nodded. That she had known of Brandt, enough to pin his work to a specific decade, was impressive. “I can never decide whether I prefer the classics or more modern fare.”

I was conscious of the fact that I had begun to gaze almost longingly at the pictures around me. Such was the affect of art on those of my blood. Even if I had felt as though I was boring her, I would still have been drawn to the pieces, and felt compelled to praise them to her. Being in a place such as the gallery brought out the best in the Toreador blood – we basked in it's glow, it's glory reflecting against us, making us seem all the greater for it.

“I'm afraid I don't know all that much about Brandt, though if you have any questions, I can hazard an answer.” I turned to offer a smile and found Sansa with her eyes focused upon me. I couldn't help but wonder how long she had been looking at me, instead of the picture in front of her.

[Sansa]

"Oh, I don't know all that much about him either. Emilie has a copy of his... Perspective of Nudes I think it's called. She's never looked into it that I've seen; I think she bought it to scandalize her mother when she was younger."

She dared to hold his gaze a bit longer, then turned to look at the next photograph. "They really are an unusual perspective on the human body. Some of them are almost distorted..." She felt more relaxed now, satisfied with Gabriel's companionship.

A thought occured to her, and she looked up at him again, her hair falling away from her neck. "Elizabeth called you Gabe: is that what you prefer to be called?"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“I don't mind. Whatever comes most naturally to you.”

Gabriel, Gabe, Rodermark, Rodes, Prince, sir, boss, Lefty, bastard. It seemed everyone had their own name for me.

I tilted my head to the side, studying the photograph that we were currently stood in front of.

“Your room-mate sounds like quite the character,” I said, thinking aloud. I wondered what she made of Sansa's evening excursions.”

[Sansa]

"Yes." She almost slapped her forehead with her palm, but kept one hand in the crook of Gabriel's elbow and the other at her side. Why had she brought up Emilie?

"Emilie is great, really. I couldn't ask for a... better flatmate." Or one that enjoyed talking about herself more, or one that was more self-centered. Sansa looked up at Gabriel, "She's really been there for me in the past."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I wondered how much she would miss Emilie, separated from her. I thought back to my own life, and how the people I had known had become dead to me. At first I hadn't cared, hadn't missed them at all, but as time wore on I had felt their absence keenly. Part of me felt guilty already, just at the thought of inflicting such loss on her... but all wounds heal with time.

“Have you told her anything about me?” I asked with a hint of a smile, my curiosity rising.

[Sansa]

Oh great, let's talk about her. "Uh, not really. She's pretty wrapped up in her new boyfriend at the moment." Sansa rolled her eyes, "After she dumps him, or he dumps her, in a few weeks, she'll be more interested in what I'm up to."

She looked around them, at the photographs and changed the subject. "Do you have a favorite piece in the gallery? I'd love to see it."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

A nerve had been touched, evidently. As I suspected. The effects of the blood bond were showing. Separating Sansa from her 'good friend' might not be all that difficult after all.

“A favorite piece...” I cast a glance around the gallery floor. It was near impossible to choose. One picture did stand out, however. “This one (http://www.artnet.com/artwork/424325375/bill-brandt-jean-dubuffet.html), I think. There is something fascinating about the human eye...”

The crags in the skin, the glassy stare. What had this particular eye seen? A large part of me envied Jude – he could somehow see through such things, to gain the perspective behind the piece. I, on the other hand, could only guess.

[Sansa]

They walked over to the picture, and Sansa nodded slowly. "I can't say I understand most art, but this photograph is brilliant." Of course, she wanted to like the things that Gabriel liked, and was trying to impress him.

"I wonder what he's looking at." She leaned forward a bit, trying to make anything out of the reflection in the iris. "Or perhaps he's dreaming of the past...."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“That's what makes it so captivating. Perhaps it is something profound, or perhaps something entirely trivial. We'll never know. That's what first drew me into the arts, actually... the fact that it inspires and encourages us to think beyond the everyday.”

I paused and felt somewhat self-conscious, without knowing why.

I turned my inner-eye back to the photograph, taking the focus away from my self.

“It's amazing how one image, or the smallest of facial expressions, can convey so much. Nonverbal communication... fascinating.”

[Sansa]

The look on his face while he spoke was captivating. Sansa felt a surge of desire welling up inside her as he turned back to the photograph, studying it.

She took in a ragged breath, and managed to tear her eyes away from his expression, trying to focus on the eye in front of them. "What do you see when you look... at me?"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

For a moment I had almost become lost. It is all too easy for a Toreador to become entranced by beauty. There are tales of kindred who have become so enraptured by a work of art that they could not bring themselves to leave its presence, even to feed. In time, they became statues themselves – entering torpor, from lack of blood.

I was not quite so entranced by the photograph before me, though the principle of the effect was still the same. I turned away and felt as though a faint hold upon me had been released.

“You?” I looked over to my companion. Her body seemed rigid, tense, as if she was holding her breath, waiting to exhale. I could hear the steady thump of her pulse quickening. I felt the Beast, hungry, stir a little in its slumber, longing to reach out and-

How to answer her question? What did I see? I broke away from her somewhat, turning to appraise her fully. Like the art before us, I had no way of fully understanding her. Mortals, like living art, the purest medium, so innocent...

“I see... something much more fascinating than all of this.”

[Sansa]

Sansa smiled shyly as he looked her over, her hands falling to her sides. "Fascinating?" She lifted her chin to face him, a bit of unnatural confidence showing itself here, in his presence.

"In what way, Gabriel?" She quirked up one of her eyebrows.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I could have laughed. Was that vanity I could see? She had the makings of a true Toreador. I smiled, touching a fingertip to her chin, gently turning her head away somewhat.

“In every way,” I replied. “As a human being you are so much more complex than even the greatest work of art. I could study you all my life and still fail to understand you completely, still find new things to appreciate. This photograph is just one moment, a snapshot... your whole life is a series of moments. There is so much more to comprehend and enjoy.”

It was not the most eloquent of answers but for now it would have to suffice. Telling the truth was out of the question.

[Sansa]

She blushed at his touch, but hoped he would not take his hand away. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

One of the guards on the levels above coughed, and Sansa stepped backwards, suddenly self-conscious again. "On with the tour, then?" She wanted to be completely alone with Gabriel Rodermark - no questioning eyes around or anyone to take him away from her. But she would follow his lead.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“Up to the next floor, I think,” I replied with a nod. As we ascended the stairs, the security guard on the second floor took a step back, moving out of our way with a curt nod. After the monochrome of the first floor, the second was a burst of colour. Paintings of harlequins, clowns and women in elaborate fashion. I introduced the artist: “Ramon Santiago. A contemporary painter.”

[Sansa]

Sansa laughed, a little nervously. "Clowns." She stepped a bit closer to Gabriel, but gamely looked at all the pieces as they made their way through the exhibit.

"They certainly are beautiful pieces - more whimsy than horror, thankfully." She tried not to clutch at his arm, but it was hard not to.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“I have to confess, I'm not a big fan of Santiago. The man is a little too pretentious for my tastes.” We paused in front of 'Your Love Is Deadly (http://www.ramonsantiago.com/santiago_studio/publish/yourloveisdeadly.shtml)' for a moment. “... but it would be unfair of me to exclude something simply because I did not like it. For all I know, someone may take great pleasure from looking at... this... art.”

[Sansa]

She managed not to grimace at the painting. "Well, after spying on my babysitter when I was little, and watching most of Stephen King's IT from the staircase... I can't say I'm a big fan either."

Sansa took a deep breath, looking at the snake in the picture.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

The Santiago exhibit had been in place during the New Year attack. As a result, there were some blank spaces on the walls where once paintings had hung, pieces that had been damaged, most of them irreparably – not exactly a huge loss to the art community.

“Not a big horror fan?” I asked, at the mention of Stephen King.

[Sansa]

"Not really." She shuddered, "Though now its not as bad as it used to be. As long as I don't watch scary movies alone its not too bad."

Sansa's hand moved slowly down from Gabriel's elbow until it nestled in his cold hand. She smiled, a little shy, but her confidence grew when he did not let go. They moved on, walking past the Santiago exhibit, to another photography display. A sign read Araki: Self•Life•Death, and Sansa was immediately captured by the beauty of the photographer's work.

Gabriel seemed to be watching her as she looked at a stunning color photograph of orchids. "<a href=http://www.barbican.org.uk/artgallery/event-detail.asp?ID=3535>Nobuyoshi Araki</a>," he offered, "One of the greatest living Japanese photographers."

"Its beautiful." Sansa looked at the next piece - a kimono-clad woman with a small green lizard on her knee. "I really love his use of color."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“A Woman named Komari...” I observed.

Staring into the eyes of the kimono-clad woman, I found myself momentarily distracted, my mind wandering to the past. Once upon a time another Japanese man by the name of Nobu had told me tales of Geisha's and other sights beautiful to behold in his home land, promising that he would one day take me there. It was a trip that would never happen. I frowned slightly at the thought, though I imagine it must have appeared that I was simply studying the photograph carefully, lost in some critical contemplation. We moved on. The next photograph was of another woman, this time partially naked, her upper body apparently smeared with paint.

“Sensual yet morbid. An unusual combination, don't you think?”

Consciously, I willed a little blood to my hands, to warm them some.

[Sansa]

Sansa narrowed her eyes, trying to see past the obvious of the photograph. "Unusual to most people, but not all, I suppose. Some people find death... and morbid thoughts... intruiging.

"I suppose that's where the Gothic sub-culture came from." She laughed, "Though there is nothing goth about these. Bondage and control while emphasizing beauty." Sansa indicated the next in line, a nude woman suspended by her bonds. "Subversive, of course, and certainly not what one thinks of when you mention Japan."

Sansa studied the photograph. "Perhaps his work is simply a study of contrasts. Traditional Japanese culture from another angle; colorful paint masking the simple beauty of the human body."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I nodded, giving a thoughtful 'hmmm'. “Very insightful.” It seemed that Araki's display had been arranged as such that the further one walked, the more explicit the images became. What began with the simple innocence of an orchid in bloom soon became something much more perverted – hardly surprising, giving that Araki was often called a pornographer.

We came before another woman in bondage, this time her expression that of an almost torturous pleasure. I stood somewhat closer to Sansa, again aware of the soft rhythm of her pulse. Perhaps it was the explicit nature of what she saw before her, or merely the increased proximity between our bodies, that caused it to slightly quicken. Or perhaps it hadn't quickened at all; it may have been my own excitement, at the thought of growing ever closer to finally tasting her.

I found myself watching her, again, willing her to look my way...

[Sansa]

Gabriel's hand tightened on hers almost imperceptibly, and Sansa felt the tension between their bodies growing. The photographs were increasingly erotically explicit, and she was beginning to feel... she looked away from the piece in front of them, confused slightly by her own feelings.

She looked up at Gabriel, only to find him looking at her again, an intense look in his eyes. Sansa looked down, then back at him again, not wanting to break the silence between them.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Gifted with Presence, I was able to turn away the eyes of the guards, blinding to them to what was about to happen. Drained of their very will to care, they slipped into a kind of trance that would have felt entirely natural and kept them from providing any interruptions. The only effort increased my hunger further.

With my one free hand I gave a gentle touch to Sansa's cheek, brushing aside a few stray strands of hair, exposing a hint of warm skin beneath...

[Sansa]

He reached upwards, brushing her hair away from her cheek. Sansa's mouth opened slightly, and she turned her face towards his touch, head tilting to the side.

She kept her eyes on his, then closed them ever so lightly. Her heart beat loudly in the silence, her blood almost a roar in her ears as she anticipated his kiss. She felt him lean forward...

[Gabriel Rodermark]

There was a moment of lingering silence, a moment in which both of us knew what would follow, but paused, as if merely to enjoy the electricity, the tension, that filled such pauses. Gently, our lips met. I felt my blood warm, the taste of skin enough to excite the slumbering Beast. I fought the urge, unusually strong as it was, to bite immeadiately, though I have no doubts that my hunger must have seemed palpable even then, in the kiss itself.

[Sansa]

Sansa's mind seemed to be enveloped in white light. The only sensations she could feel was that of Gabriel's lips on hers, and his arms slowly enfolding her. She didn't want to feel anything else - her feet seemed to be off the ground for all that she could tell.

She leaned into him, her hands slipping up and around his strong back.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I could feel her slipping into submission and decided I could wait no longer. I broke the kiss and would swear that for a moment I felt her body tense, as if crying out in frustration. I set a trail of kisses along her jawline and gave a teasing nibble at her earlobe. One hand cradling the back of her neck, I pulled her body, her neck, closer. Her pulse was like the beat of some tribal drum. I couldn't wait any longer. Two thin fangs sunk into her flesh; the pain would be fleeting. Warmth welled to the surface, oozing red, a dizzying rush of blood to my head. It was like liquid fire.

[Sansa]

She cried out briefly, clutching at his arms, feeling pain as he nuzzled her neck. Then her eyes opened wide, staring unseeingly over his shoulder at the photograph they'd stopped in front of.

Pain forgotten, pleasure swept over her from head to toe. Unable to stand, and bombarded by sensation, Sansa's body relaxed until she was being held up only by Gabriel's hold on her. She breathed through her mouth, a quiet moan escaping her lips.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

The Kiss was one of the last remaining pleasures of all Kindred. Though the lust for blood may drive one to guilt or revulsion, whilst in the act of taking it there seems no more sublime thing in the world. Vitae is our world, and so in taking it from, or sharing it with, another, we may enter into an almost spiritual connection. Of course, it is not always so – sometimes feeding simply is feeding, an attempt to sate an quenchable thirst... yet this did not feel as such.

I took only a little from Sansa, just enough. It would leave her dizzy, perhaps disorientated, but not without energy. I wondered, with some amusement, how the rational part of her mind would explain away the sudden and intense pleasure. It made little difference, of course. She, and I, would long to experience it again.

Feeling the Beast awaken, I froze, fangs withdrawing slowly. I licked at the two small wounds, and as quickly as they had appeared they began to fade. I pressed my lips against the once more smooth skin and steadied her body against my own. Gently lifting her head, I saw a vacancy in her eyes, but knew – as our lips met again – that it would fade soon...

[Sansa]

Sansa's eyes blinked slowly as he kissed her, and she put her weight on her feet once more. She felt lightheaded from his affections and continued to hold his arms for balance while her lips were busy.

He drew back, his hands supporting her back as his blue eyes looked deeply into her own. Sansa took in a deep breath, regretting the end of their embrace, and let it out slowly. "I've been kissed before, but never like that." She put her hands against his chest, still encircled with his arms. "You're... the best thing that's ever happened to me, Gabriel."

I love you. She wanted to blurt it out, but thought he would think her a silly peasant. It seemed the only adequate way to express how she felt.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I have always been plagued by a kind of melancholy guilt for humanity and I wonder whether there was, then, some part of me that felt that guilt, that wanted to explain to her that I was far from the best thing to happen to anyone. At the time, of course, those thoughts were the farthest thing from my mind. There was something so satisfying, fulfilling even, about hearing those words, seeing the awestruck look in her eyes. She was like some magnificent work of art, pure and beautiful – I couldn't bear to move and take my eyes away from her. I hadn't felt so genuinely, and innocently, wanted in a long time. It was thrilling.

“Would you think I was crazy if I said that I loved you?”

[Sansa]

Her heart sped up again at his reply, and she shook her head, happiness threatening to overwhelm her. "No... no. I don't. I wouldn't." Sansa's hands crept up his chest until she had them around the back of his neck, slim fingers teasing at the ends of his hair. "I feel it too."

Emboldened, she pulled his head down for another kiss, desperate to be closer to him. It was so strange how life could change in an instant. December 31st had been dull and boring, and then the new year had come and she'd met the most wonderful man in the world. She'd even come to the party with someone else.

Sansa frowned at the thought, trying to remember who she'd come to the Barbican with, but Gabriel gently nipped at her lips with his teeth and she forgot her train of thought completely. They separated again, and she buried her face in his chest, hugging him tightly.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I found myself gently stroking her hair, and setting a kiss on her forehead. The guards had slipped out of their trance, and I felt more than one pair of eyes upon us. It would not do – I wanted her all for my own.

“Let's get out of here.”

[Sansa]

Sansa kissed his chest through his shirt, and nodded, "Okay." He took her hand, leading her, and she was all too happy to follow. It didn't seem to matter where he was going, as long as she was allowed to go with him.

He loved her! Some rational part of her mind was trying to tell her that it was impossible for him to love her - they were too different. It was too soon. He was just using her. But in the flush of their first kiss Sansa refused to pay any attention. All she wanted was to be with him for as long as possible.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

We walked hand in hand back towards the ground floor. Out of the foyer, we donned our coats and stepped into the cold of night. I took her hands in my own, bringing them together, to try and warm them as we lingered on the frosty steps. There was a flush of color in my complexion.

“Come home with me?”

[Sansa]

Sansa hesitated, but only for a moment. Emilie wasn't expecting her back any time soon, and the thrill of his grip on her cold hands was enough to make up her mind.

She grinned, "Trying to see how well I cook breakfast, eh?"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“Something like that, ” I smiled, coy.

My car was nearby. It was a quiet night, so the drive to Knightsbridge wouldn't take long at all.

“Well...?”

[Sansa]

She nodded, her breath misting up in the air around them. "Of course, Mr. Rodermark," Sansa laughed happily. "I would be more than pleased to escort you home."

She kissed the tips of his fingers, his hands wrapped around hers, as he called for his car. They were soon in the backseat of the sedan, and she snuggled up against Gabriel, blissfully unaware.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Sloane Street was empty; only a few straggling party-goers could be seen. As we stepped into the warm foyer of Cadogan Place, the doorman cleared his throat, attempting to be as discreet as possible in attracting my attention. I smiled to Sansa, then walked to him.

“Evenin', Mr. Rodermark. Just thought I'd let you know that you had a visitor, about an hour ago.”

“Oh?” I wasn't expecting anyone.

“Yes, young man, foreign sort. Said the two of you had some business.” I frowned slightly, and the doorman continued: “I told him I didn't know when you'd be home, what with you keeping such late hours and all. I'm afraid he didn't leave a name.”

I waved a dismissive hand, “Nevermind,” then gave the man a pat on the shoulder, a smile of thanks and turned back to my guest, offering out an arm to escort her to the eighth floor.

[Sansa]

Sansa took the offered arm, and followed her host quietly to the elevator. She felt that she might burst from staying so calm, when in fact she wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Gabriel's constant touch reassured Sansa that he too was looking forward to getting her completely alone and to himself. On the eighth floor he unlocked his front door and ushered her inside. It was just as she remembered it, and as the door closed behind them she felt a little bit of shyness coming back over her.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Soft light filled the lounge. I draped my coat over the back of the couch and glanced back at Sansa, who appeared slightly sheepish. I smiled and walked to her, hands falling to rest at her hips.

“Shall we have a little something to drink?”

[Sansa]

She smiled up at him, "Sounds good to me." Shrugging out of her coat, Sansa followed him towards the couch and let him sit her on it as he placed her coat on top of his across the back of it.

As Gabriel nipped into the kitchen for a bit of wine, Sansa stretched, and then carefully undid one of the top buttons on her shirt. Exposing a bit more cleavage couldn't hurt.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

There are moments in all of our lives from which two paths diverge, where the choice we make will shape the future. With two wine glasses laid out before me, and a bottle of red wine ready to pour, I was at one of these divergent paths, a fork in the road. In light of the severity of the decision, I took a moment to contemplate what I was about to do.

With one more sip of my blood, Sansa would be bound to me for the rest of her life – mortal or otherwise. The bond that would be created would be unbreakable. Though it might weaken over time, I would always have some degree of control over her – and she would always feel some sense of longing for me, even if she came to hate me. It would be a burden upon both of us.

The decision would affect Sansa monumentally, yet it was mine to make, and my mind had been made up. I pressed a nail against the pale skin of my wrist, releasing dark vitae in small droplets. Gently, I swirled the wine glass, the blood vanishing almost instantly. It was done.

I returned to Sansa, offering the glass and an unchaste smile.

[Sansa]

She was looking across the room at a piece of art on the wall when Gabriel returned from the kitchen. Sansa looked over, her face lighting up with a smile as he walked towards her. "Thank you," she said, taking the offered wine glass.

He gently touched the lip of his glass to hers, "To a long friendship..." There was a mysterious quality to his smile that made her feel like she was naked underneath his gaze - not as though she was unclothed, but as if her soul was laid bare to him.

"Cheers!" Sansa beamed at Gabriel, and took a large swallow of wine to bolster her courage. After all, she didn't want her nerves to mess anything up, not tonight. The wine seemed to spread a warmth down her throat and into her stomach, and then the feeling spread out the bottom of her stomach all the way to the soles of her feet. She looked at the wine glass, and took another, much smaller, sip as the warm feeling surged upwards and out the top of her head.

For a moment she sat still, her eyes becoming a bit unfocused.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“To a long friendship...” Longer than you know, I thought. The blood of Caine brought out the Machiavellian streak in all of us.

She seemed to slip away for a moment, and so I did what any normal person would have done and asked: “Is everything alright?”

[Sansa]

She blinked. "Oh, I'm fine." Sansa rubbed her forehead a bit with her hand, and then snuggled against Gabriel's side. She took another sip of wine, and found herself thinking about the big bed he had in the other room.

Sansa turned her face up and towards him, nuzzling against his neck.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I felt warm breath on my neck, skin lightly tickled by eyelashes. There was something comforting in the feeling of her body lain against mine, the natural heat so superior to the cold skin of the dead. It allowed me to forget, for a short while at least, what I was, the burdens I had to carry, so heavy in comparison to the expectations that Sansa would have of me. I turned my head, sitting back a little, so that I could kiss her, my guilty pleasure.

[Sansa]

She extended her arm to set her wineglass on the coffee table without looking. Gabriel's lips traced kisses down her throat, and she forgot about the wine as she took his head between her hands and turned his face up towards hers. Words seemed meaningless in the everything that was Gabriel Rodermark. She kissed him, and he began leaning backwards... pulling her towards him more.

Sansa felt her heart racing as they continued to kiss, but felt no reservations as she let herself go in the moment. It was funny, she'd only met one other bloke she'd felt completely comfortable with, and that was just a few weeks ago. She twined her fingers in Gabriel's hair, but opened her eyes so she could look at him as they kissed.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

With his glass set down on the carpet, Gabriels hands were free, but didn't remain idle for long. One brushed tenderly up the length of her back, while the other ran a gentle caress over her cheek. All traces of lust were long dead in Rodermark, they had evaporated with last traces of his mortal life, but had been replaced by something else – bloodlust. It was her very life, her mortality, that excited him now, and made him strain against her body as if desperate to be closer to her.

[Sansa]

Sansa moaned softly as he ran his hand up her back, her nerve endings tingling as though his touch was electric. Gabriel shifted his weight underneath her as he continued to caress her warm skin. She wanted to give herself to him as fully as she could - her love for him was overpowering and she was desperate to show him how deep her feelings ran.

He pushed her upright, moving off the couch and pulling her to her feet. Sansa ran her hands underneath his shirt, and then attacked the buttons as he walked backwards, kissing her and leading her into his bedroom.

Gabriel's shirt fell to the ground, exposing his exquisitely muscled torso, and he popped the buttons of her white shirt open with a practiced hand. He reached for the door to close it behind them as he gently ran his fangs over the skin of her neck, causing only the smallest of tears in her skin. She shivered with delight as he licked at the blood that welled up, his free hand exploring the rest of her body, and the door closed with a soft click.

[Vahid Hesam]

In the living room of Gabriel Rodermark's Knightsbridge apartment, one wall seem to ripple. The disturbance began to move, a wave shimmering across the pristine paintwork. It paused at the door to the Prince's bedchamber's, a barely visible pillar, like a heat mirage on hot tarmac. Soft moans came from beyond the door.

The disturbance turned away, moving silently across the room and into the study. A leaf of papers rustled, as if played on by some gentle breeze. From the bedroom, there was a thud. The disturbance seemed to grow fainter, the air trembling only slightly. It was nothing, only passion. The papers shifted once more...

As he sifted through the documents before him, Vahid Hesam noted mentally how easy it would have been to end the life of the Prince of London. His haven had been almost worryingly simple to infiltrate, and once inside the power of the Cloak of Shadows had kept him veiled from sight. More than once he had stood only feet away from Rodermark and his kine puppet, neither knowing how fortunate it was that the Archbishop of Moscow wished to destroy Rodermark personally.

There was little of worth to be found in the study, as the Assamite had suspected, yet the trip was not without merit. A trim Macintosh laptop sat, out place, on an aging wooden desk. While the Prince reveled in his depravity, it took mere minutes to copy the contents of the hard-drive. Hesam doubted that there would be anything of real use to be found in the Prince's Inbox, but there was always a slim chance. He pocketed the flash drive with the data and returned to the living room, his face contorting minutely at the sounds coming from the bedroom. It was time to make an exit.

The front door to the apartment eased open and closed, all sound silenced by the power of Quietus. As quickly as it had come, the disturbance was gone.