Eternal Night

(II) Chapter 40: Ground Rules

Vladislaus was only partly aware of his surroundings as he wandered into the welcoming darkness of his bedroom. The powerful sway of the sun, already making its daily ascent beyond his sealed flat, was like that of an old and familiar lover, beckoning him to bed where the restorative rest would soon greet him. After the events of the evening, the culmination of weeks of preparation, he found himself unusually exhausted. Crawling into bed was a luxury he would never tire of, the cool sheets against his naked skin like heaven as he sank unceremoniously into the mattress, the weight of the linens left to lie draped just at the waist, his pillow cradling his head.

He sighed heavily in relief as the familiar relaxation swept over him.

This was so much better than all those years spent sleeping in coffins or stone sarcophaguses in the dark ages.

And the world may currently be on the brink of going to hell, but at least he still had this.

Sleep evaded him, however – like clockwork – as the stillness of the dawn had his mind drifting as it so often did to thoughts of Francesca.

The memory of her hand holding his cheek, the way she had swayed forward to kiss him, that hunger in her gaze, softened by a look of affection... it left his heart aching. Of course, the suggestion of that would-be kiss left another part of him aching as well and he groaned quietly, rolling over onto his side as if curling away would somehow block the onslaught of his thoughts. But it didn't work. It never did. And without even meaning to, he soon found himself lost in a private fantasy of the woman – those eyes, her lips, that body...

He gritted his teeth, a soft rumble of an oath muttered under his breath.

Having certain parts of his anatomy in full and working order again thanks to her blood – while a relief – had also revealed unforeseen challenges. The decades without proper use left him feeling like an adolescent boy in the peak of puberty – complete with inconveniently timed erections that had him donning longer coats these days; not to mention the dreams he had been having for the last week. He wasn't above rubbing one out, but it wasn't his hand his blood and body craved.

The thought of her sent a tingle down his spine, pooling at the base as a familiar pressure started to build and then tighten between his hips. He shifted to make himself more comfortable, but the caress of sheets against his sensitive length had him swearing.

He wasn't sure if he should be angry or amused at how easily she inspired him. She didn't even have to be in the room... hell, she was miles away, and just the thought of the woman had him hard and at the ready.

Another night of tending to his own needs then.

He resigned himself to his situation, preparing to slip his hand beneath the linens when a sound from downstairs caught his attention. The click of the deadbolt of his front door. The door opened and closed soundlessly, but he felt the shift in the air – the presence of another. It was enough to bring him to a more neutral state.

Vlad remained very still, tuning his ears, his preternatural senses to any sound, but whoever had entered his flat was good. Stealthy as a ninja – not even so much as a footfall to be heard. He too could be silent, and he shifted, sitting up in his bed, preparing to slip out to see who this intruder could be when his bedroom door suddenly opened.

Who he saw standing there... it was like something out of a dream.

"Francesca?"

She didn't enter, lingering in the doorway, something glistening in her hand.

"Good. You're still awake," was all she said.

"What... how did you get in?"

She lifted the object she was holding, smirking.