Archive of Our Own

After Mina's turning, her father brings her a cage of live rabbits.

She looks at their little squirming white bodies and wrinkles her nose in disgust. The only thing keeping her from pushing them away completely is the fact that she hasn't eaten in, like, twenty-four hours, and she's starving.

She had tried to eat some human food for breakfast the morning after, but it all tasted like sand and left her feeling even hungrier. The newfound light sensitivity hadn't helped either; it had left her with a terrible headache.

"Let's start out with these, my dear," her father says, dusting off his gloves. "Before you graduate to… larger game."

Mina doesn't like the idea of eating a rabbit — so undignified! — but her stomach has been grumbling all day and if she doesn't eat something very soon she thinks her body will start consuming itself. She unlatches the cage and reaches in to take one out. It stops wriggling and sits very obediently in the palm of her hand.

She feels no pity for the creature. It's all just so… gross. But such is the price of power, and she's already decided that she is willing to pay it, so she eats the rabbit.

"Oh, our little girl," Mina hears her mother say in the background. "She's growing up so fast."

"To think she'll be married soon," says her dad.

"Where does the time go?"

Mina coughs up a piece of gristle and almost gags. At least the blood doesn't taste bad. It's nothing like her favorite breakfast — like all the breakfasts she'll never get to eat again — but it's good enough.

The first time Mina met her fiancé before the wedding was a family affair. The Fairfaxes visited her parents' home to celebrate the engagement, a successful match made between two of the wealthiest families of New York, with the wedding set for next summer.

Mina primped extensively for the occasion. She wore her nicest dress and a pair of white gloves. (She wasn't a vampire yet, then; there was still warmth in her cheeks and in her hands, so the gloves were a vanity and not a necessity.)

She'd seen pictures of Arin Fairfax before — everyone had, somewhere — and was secretly pleased that they weren't totally hideous, even though their looks had no bearing on whether she'd marry them or not.

She sat on one side of the dining table and watched as her parents talked business with Maximilian and his (third? fourth?) wife. She glanced over occasionally at her intended, who sat there silently and sullenly, their shoulders tensed and their mouth set in a grim line.

Arin didn't say a single word until dinner was over and everyone was moving into the sitting room for drinks. Right as Mina was exiting the dining room, she heard a low voice coming from behind her.

"What do you think of my father?"

Mina turned around to see Arin framed in the doorway. Their dark eyes landed on her impassively, neither curious nor indifferent, before flickering away.

"I admire him," was her tactful response. "It can't have been easy to build up such a successful business in the first place, but the way he's grown it has been even more impressive…"

"No, no," Arin said, waving a hand. "I mean as a person. What do you think of him as a person."

"Oh," Mina says, a little bemused but not wanting to jeopardize the marriage by being anything but polite and agreeable. "I think he's just wonderful."

"Seriously?" said Arin.

"Of course."

"Well, he isn't," Arin had said. "He's a fucking asshole."

They pushed past her then, without giving her a second glance. Mina watched them go, feeling confused and, strangely, a little humiliated.

There was also a deep annoyance welling up in her — not because of Arin's words, but because of the way they'd spoken to her, dismissive and distracted, like she wasn't worth their full attention.

Well, whatever, she thought, swallowing the annoyance and heading in to join her parents. It wasn't like she was marrying them for their personality.

A month before the wedding, Maximilian Fairfax invites her to lunch.

She rides the elevator up to the private dining suite he's booked at the Baroness Hotel. The man escorting her holds the door for her as she exits, his smile too wide, his eyes too still. Mina is unnerved by it for a second, but forgets all about him as soon as she turns the corner — she isn't in the habit of remembering the help.

Her soon-to-be father-in-law sits alone at the table when she enters the room, solid and imposing. The shades are drawn.

"Miss Ha," he says without standing up. "Thank you for joining me. Please take a seat."

He gestures silently for her to sit opposite him. One glance from him sends the aides around the room trickling out, leaving the two of them alone.

Mina sits down and admires the aura of power he projects. The kind of power that comes with the Fairfax name, she thinks.

"I hope you don't mind the low light," he says.

"Not at all," Mina says, slipping easily into her performed deference. "I actually prefer it."

"I thought you might," Maximilian says.

Right on cue, two of his aides re-enter the room, holding trays covered with metal cloches. Mina watches silently as one of them is placed in front of her.

"Thank you, sir," she says, preparing herself for the unpleasant ordeal of forcing herself to eat human food, even though it tastes like nothing and gives her a stomachache afterwards.

Another incline of the head from Maximilian and the cloche before her is lifted to reveal a small hamster in a cage. Mina tenses up.

From what feels like very far away, Maximilian says: "I have eyes everywhere, Miss Ha. I know what you did. I know what you want."

Mina's mind races with excuses. She can't take her eyes off the hamster, its tiny, soft body clambering around in a cage that still has the tag from the pet store on it.

"Mr. Fairfax," she says slowly. "I didn't — I don't — "

"You desire much," Maximilian says, his voice ringing with authority. "You think if you have the Fairfax name, you'll be able to secure your place in both human and vampire society. Simply put: you want power. Isn't that right?"

Mina swallows heavily and finally finds it in herself to meet his stare. Feeling very small, like a child being scolded for stealing another child's toy, she nods.

"Yes, sir," she says.

"I think we can help each other," says Maximilian.

He watches her closely.

"I will allow you to become a Fairfax," he says. "And in return, I want you to get rid of Arin."

Mina sits frozen in place, her mind stalling in its comprehension.

Off her dumbfounded expression, Maximilian uncovers his own dish to reveal nothing but a large steak. As he begins to cut at it, he continues, his tone casual: "Arin has become increasingly obstinate, lately. A concerning thing, for the heir to Fairfax Industries to declare that they intend to bring down my life's work as soon as they take control. I'm sure you wouldn't want such a thing to happen."

"No," Mina manages to say.

"Then, as I said, I think we can help each other," Maximilian says, popping a piece of steak into his mouth and swallowing it without chewing. "I find myself in need of a new heir, and you find yourself in need of a name. You're a smart girl, Miss Ha. You figure the rest out."

Mina looks down at the hamster again and suddenly isn't very hungry. But there's only one thing she can say — only one thing she knows he will let her say.

"Yes, sir," she says.

"Good," Maximilian says. "And who knows? If you play your cards right, maybe the heir I'm looking for could be you."

His tone, though outwardly cheerful, makes it clear that nothing of the sort will happen unless she toes the line. But even the prospect of having all that power sends a tremor of excitement through Mina's body.

Her hands shaking slightly, her mouth dry, she unlatches the cage and reaches in to take the hamster out.

All through the wedding rehearsal, Arin watches her closely. They don't look at her, not quite — they just watch. Mina doesn't like the feeling and has to tamp down the urge to snap at them.

Afterwards, at the rehearsal dinner, the two of them sit silently shoulder to shoulder at the head of the table as their families eat and talk. Neither of them eats or talks.

Mina looks around at all the people milling around this beautiful ballroom and wonders if Arin has any idea who any of them are. She certainly doesn't; most of her side's invite list is made up of oil merchants and factory owners and railroad tycoons. Her father's business associates, in other words, looking to network at what the papers are calling the wedding of the century. She doesn't even have a bridal party. She doesn't have a lot of friends.

Soon she feels Arin watching her again, and this time, while the two of them are no longer the center of attention, she doesn't stop herself from saying something.

"Stop that," Mina says sharply, whipping around to look back at them.

Arin blinks back at her in response, pretending like they don't know what she's talking about.

"You're staring at me," she says irritably. "Again. Quit it."

"I'm sorry," Arin says. "Just familiarizing myself with the way you look."

"That's stupid."

"Well, we're about to be married," says Arin. "I'd like to be able recognize you when I get up there."

"Okay," Mina scoffs, taking a perfunctory sip of champagne that slips down her throat like acid. "Don't pretend it means anything to you, alright? That's such loser behavior."

"Loser behavior," Arin repeats, turning back to face the room. "Sorry, I won't do it again."

There's a hint of amused derision in their voice, which irks Mina as soon as she detects it.

"Nobody said you have to like it," she says.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Like it," says Arin. "Do you like it?"

"I like becoming a Fairfax," Mina mutters, forcing herself to swallow a tasteless piece of asparagus. "I like what I'm getting. That's all I have to like."

"And what exactly am I getting?"

Mina casts a disdainful sidelong glance at them.

"Married," she says flatly.

She tries to make the underlying message as clear as possible: it doesn't matter how they feel. It doesn't matter how either of them feel.

Arin doesn't look back at her this time, but she sees their jaw flex for a second. Her eyes get stuck on the sliver of neck she can see underneath their starched collar, a smooth patch of skin looking fresh and untouched and ready to be unwrapped like a hard candy.

God, she's hungry.

She remembers the order Maximilian Fairfax gave her. She watches the twitchy way Arin moves and wonders what their blood tastes like. She wonders until the temptation to claw aside the starched collar and sink her fangs into that patch of skin to find out grows very strong.

She tries not to let it show as she pries her gaze away from them again, her hands clenching and unclenching under the tablecloth. Tomorrow, she tells herself firmly. After they're married.

On the day of her wedding, Mina starts getting ready at dawn even though the early morning sun still gives her a headache.

Over the course of the next few hours she yells at her mother, yells at her father, yells at the makeup artist, yells at the wedding planner, goes into the backyard to kill and eat a squirrel, yells at her own lack of reflection in the bathroom mirror, and yells at the driver on the way to the venue. She pulls it together at the last second, though, because the photographer is there.

Fifteen minutes before the ceremony is set to begin, the wedding planner comes into her hotel room to tell her that Arin is missing.

Mina nearly kills the poor lady on the spot — which isn't a euphemism — but manages to hold off on it and channels her frustration into tearing at the expensive silk pillows instead. Stupid Arin, she thinks to herself in a rage, with their stupid face, and their stupid eyes, and their stupid, stupid moral fiber.

The room is all covered with feathers and Mina is just about to get started on smashing some vases when the word comes in: Arin has been found, which means the ceremony is ready to begin.

She'd be very happy to keep destroying things anyway, but Mina is well aware of the kinds of people who are out there waiting for her, so she grits her teeth and allows the makeup artist to fix her face. She calms herself down by reminding herself how good it's going to feel once she gets rid of Arin and takes over Fairfax Industries and becomes the most powerful vampire in the city. The thought is enough to put a placid smile on her face when she finally makes it to the aisle.

The smile only falters once she reaches the altar. She's glad that there's a veil covering her suddenly sour expression. Arin's hair is all tousled, their bow tie crooked. Mina tries not to look because she knows it'll just piss her off again and instead focuses on their face as the minister speaks.

They're looking at her without really seeing her, their eyes darting around the room periodically. Mina clenches the fist that isn't visible to the crowd so tightly that her nails almost break skin.

Arin mumbles their vows; Mina rushes through hers. When the time comes for them to exchange rings, Mina holds out her gloved hand and Arin pauses halfway, their eyes meeting hers quizzically.

"Just do it," she hisses impatiently. She hasn't allowed anyone to touch her ungloved skin since her turning. Too cold, too pale. People would get suspicious. Arin would notice.

Their eyebrows twitch briefly, and they look like they're holding back a comment of some kind, but they obligingly slip the ring onto her gloved finger. She returns the favor and the minister tells them that they may now kiss.

Mina curls her lip as Arin steps closer to her. She watches as they pinch her veil gently between their fingers and lift it over her head, leaving her face fully exposed. They study her features for a second, inscrutable, and Mina is about to snap at them to get it over with when they finally lean in and press their mouth to hers, both softer and firmer than she expected.

It's over very soon — Arin pulls back quickly and averts their eyes — but Mina feels the brief touch of living flesh burning on her lips like a brand.

She hardly even hears it when the minister announces her as Mina Fairfax. She hardly even notices when the crowd breaks into applause. All she can hear is the ringing in her ears and the sound of Arin's breathing next to her, quiet and unsteady.

The wedding reception is far too long. Mina spends most of it receiving congratulations from socialites and businessmen she's never met. She's secretly glad to have so much to distract her from the food; at least now she won't have to pretend to enjoy it.

Her first dance with Arin is short and awkward. They maintain a respectful distance from her the whole time, their hand resting lightly on her waist. Mina tries not to let it show that she can feel the heat of every one of their fingers pressing into her skin, even through the dress.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Arin says quietly, their lips barely moving, clearly aware of all the eyes on them.

"I can't fucking wait for this to be over," Mina whispers back through a plastered-on smile. The corners of Arin's mouth twitch.

"At least we agree on one thing," they say. "I hate events like these. Even when I'm not the main attraction."

"As if anyone's looking at you."

"Maybe I shouldn't have shown up after all," Arin says. "You could've done the whole wedding by yourself."

Once the reception is over, the two of them stand in front of the hotel elevators with a keycard for the Honeymoon Suite in hand, alone together for the first time all day.

Arin looks over at her and says, "You can have it. I'm going back to my room."

"That's a great idea," says Mina, crossing her arms. "Let everyone see us going into different rooms on our wedding night."

"Figured I'd get a head start on making it clear everything about this is a sham," Arin mutters as the elevator arrives. "Just in case there's anyone who doesn't already know."

"Tch," Mina says. "At least have the decency to escort me up."

"Fine," Arin says curtly, taking off their bow tie.

They stop off briefly at Arin's room first, upon their insistence. Mina takes note of the room number (Floor 14, Room 8).

When they arrive at the Honeymoon Suite, Arin holds the door open for her. Mina turns around at the threshold and her eyes drift down to the skin visible under their loosened collar. When she looks back up at their face Arin is staring at her. Their cheeks are rosy, their lips slightly parted. For a fleeting moment Mina wishes there was a veil between them again.

"Goodnight," Arin says. "Mrs. Fairfax."

"Goodnight," Mina replies. Her voice sounds like it's coming from outside herself. Arin steps away and the door closes between them.

Mina turns to face the empty room behind her. There's a bottle of champagne and two flutes sitting on the table. She walks over to the couch to see it occupied by a huge heart-shaped pillow and two teddy bears. There are rose petals strewn across the floor, making a path to the bathroom, where she's sure a scented bath of some sort has been drawn. It's all so saccharine that it makes her sick.

She tosses the teddy bears aside (rips one of their heads off, just because) and sits down on the couch to look at her shiny new wedding ring. The diamond isn't huge, but anyone with an eye for jewelry will be able to tell you that it's expensive. Mina tries to find some joy in that thought, but to her dismay she finds that this time, reminding herself of how rich she is isn't working the way it usually does.

She feels strangely empty. She doesn't know what to do. She just sits and sits on the couch for a long time, listening to the silence of the room around her.

The bath must be ice cold by now. She can't even recall the feeling of a warm bath. Ever since her turning, being submerged in water bothers her.

After a good few hours of not doing anything in particular — nights can be very boring when you don't have to sleep — Mina finds herself at the hotel elevator again. Her finger hovers over the button for the lobby, then presses, instead, Floor 14.

She doesn't second guess herself when she stands in front of Room 8 and knocks on the door. It occurs to her that she never changed out of her wedding dress when the door swings open to reveal Arin standing there. It seems like they haven't slept either.

"Mina?" they say, confused. "Is something wrong?"

Mina pushes past them instead of giving an answer — she doesn't have one, anyway. She hears the door click shut as she moves to the dresser and starts taking her earrings off.

"Okay," Arin says from behind her. "Just not gonna say anything?"

She places her earrings on the dresser and turns to glare at them silently. Arin is still in the shirt and pants they were wearing earlier, only now their belt is gone and their sleeves are rolled up. Behind them she sees clothes spilling out of an open suitcase on the floor and a shabby old coat draped over the back of the desk chair.

So gross, she thinks with disgust. Small miracle she hasn't immediately lost her appetite.

"Look, if you're here for something else, I can't imagine what it is," Arin says, crossing the room to stand between her and the bed. "You already got what you wanted."

"You don't mean anything to me," Mina says.

"Um," Arin says. "Okay."

"I don't care about you," she continues, taking off her necklace and then her bracelets. Arin watches as she carefully places each piece on the dresser next to her earrings. "And you don't care about me."

She takes a step towards them and they take an audible breath. Mina smiles. She's enjoying this. In a weird way she thinks they are, too.

"You seriously came here at 2 in the morning just to tell me that you don't give a shit about me," Arin says, their voice low. "Like I didn't know that already."

The room is quiet enough that Mina can hear their heartbeat quickening. She thinks about the living blood moving through their body and her stomach growls.

"You're right," she says, punctuating her words with another step. "I did get what I wanted. I'm a Fairfax now."

As she continues to advance on them, Arin begins to back up slowly, their eyes fixed on her face. Once their legs hit the bed they stop moving, their breath coming in short and shallow bursts. She gets right up close to them, until their chests are almost touching.

"I always get everything I want," she says.

One nudge from her hand and Arin topples back to splay out on the edge of the bed. Mina looks down at them, unable to hide her smugness at how quickly she was able to shift the energy in the room, how much they already wanted her to.

Poor thing, she thinks. It's too easy.

She dwells for a moment on the satisfying fact that it took nothing at all for them to cede control to her, but it's driven from her mind by the sight of Arin looking up at her, their face wide open, their body still.

All for her, Mina realizes. There's no hint of their usual skittishness, no darting eyes or fidgeting hands. They just lie there and look right at her. Waiting for her to do something. Waiting for her to take a bite.

Slowly she plants her knees on the bed so that they bracket Arin's hips. She watches their throat flicker as she hikes her skirt up and settles on their lap. Arin's breath is hot on her face.

"You make no sense," they say, though there's no edge to their voice anymore.

Mina runs one hand up their chest, lets it skate over their face, privately admires their delicate features as she goes. She grips the hair on the back of their head and tugs at it lightly to tilt their head back. They go willingly, their eyes fluttering shut.

"Mina," Arin breathes out. "Just, just wait a second…"

She gets distracted by the long column of their neck, pale and soft and fine, like the underbelly of an animal. In lieu of a reply a low noise emerges unbidden from her, something like a snarl.

"Take your gloves off," they say, a light rasp in their voice. "Please."

Far be it from Mina to listen to instructions, but up this close, she can smell their hot blood pumping, can hear the arrhythmic jumping of their pulse, and it drives her to distraction. In a daze she slips her gloves off and tosses them to the side.

She hardly even notices when Arin clutches at one of her hands, their fingers lacing through hers and holding on tight. She lets them do it. She feels like she's in a trance.

"Your hand," Arin murmurs. "It's so cold."

Mina squeezes her eyes closed as she tries to keep her appetite under control. Not yet, she thinks. Not just yet. She focuses on the feeling of their bare skin against hers, familiar and strange. Even her own parents won't touch her anymore.

By the time her eyes open again, their clasped hands are pressed tight against the place in Mina's chest where her heart now lies dormant. She wonders which one of them did that. It might have been her.

"Can you feel that?" Mina asks, before she can think better of it.

Arin looks down at where their hands are joined over her chest.

"No," they say quietly.

"No," Mina echoes, her voice unexpectedly breaking over the single syllable. All of a sudden she misses desperately what it was like to have a living body. She would have liked to hear her heart pounding in her ears, she would have liked her breath to mingle with theirs in the still air of this lonely room. She crushes their hand to her chest so hard that it hurts, a single point of contact with the living, like it could set her silent heart humming again, like it could warm her from the inside.

Arin's dark eyes study her face. Something has shifted slightly in their demeanor, like they're slowly waking back up to the reality of things, their mind beginning to churn again. Swiftly Mina shakes off the unexpected surge of feeling and refocuses.

She grabs their other hand and shoves herself forward to pin both hands to the bed. Arin lets out a shaky exhale at the sudden movement, their upper body falling back until only their arms are propping them up. Mina leans in close, until her face is nearly buried in the crook of their neck.

"You smell so good," she says, half to herself and half to the blood running through Arin's veins.

Unable to help herself, she licks a slow stripe up to their jaw. Below her Arin shudders at the sensation. She can see their arms shaking with the effort of keeping themselves upright.

She traces her tongue over her fangs before she presses her open mouth to their neck. Her body is nearly trembling with the anticipation; it seems like theirs is doing the same.

When she breaks skin, Arin hardly even notices at first. Their only reaction is a small wince that turns into a tremulous sigh. Mina moans quietly when the first spurt of blood hits her tongue, fresh and sharp and sweet. They taste better than every delicacy she ever got to eat in life, all her favorite foods that now turn to ash in her mouth. Her hips press closer into theirs as she feeds, her body finally alive for the first time since she turned.

Faintly she's aware of Arin's body tensing up underneath hers, but the blood starts flowing faster and harder, and Mina can't control herself. She can feel it dripping down her chin as she tries to lap it all up, her fangs still stuck deep in Arin's neck, greedy and searching. It must be getting all over her white dress. She doesn't care. She thinks from now on she might not care about anything else in the world.

"Hey," Arin is saying, somewhere very far away. "Mina, what are you — "

Their arms finally give out and together the two of them fall onto the sheets. Mina lets go of Arin's hands and clutches at their shoulders instead, desperate for more, unwilling to let it go now that she's found it, feeling both satiated and ravenous.

All of a sudden she's being wrenched back, her fangs ripped unceremoniously away from the spot where they would have been content to stay for an eternity. Arin pushes her away with a frightening strength that she didn't know they were capable of. Mina falls back onto her knees, panting even though she doesn't need the air, her body still thrumming with energy and her mind spinning.

Arin scrambles off the bed and to their feet, their hand pressed against the now gaping wound in their neck. Mina can see the blood still flowing underneath it and her mouth waters. Only the look of abject horror on Arin's face keeps her from pouncing again.

"What the fuck," they say. "Were you drinking my blood?"

"Um," says Mina, still re-learning how to formulate full sentences as she slowly comes down from her high. "Duh."

"Oh my God," Arin says. "That's why you came here tonight. You're one of those — you're part of that stupid vampire society thing."

"You're stupid," Mina retorts reflexively. "Did you really think I would… wow, as if."

An expression flashes across Arin's face, so quick that Mina nearly misses it, but so filled with actual hurt that it stops her from saying something really mean.

"You were going to kill me," they say. Mina scoffs as they fumble to grab their coat from the desk chair with the hand that isn't currently stemming the bleeding.

"Only a little," she protests.

"You're fucking insane," Arin says, getting blood all over their coat as they struggle to get it on, and for some reason, this gets to her more than anything else. Mina is sure her face would be hot with anger if it were still capable of that as she bares her fangs at them.

"Yeah, well, guess what?" she says as venomously as she can. "Your dad told me to do it. That's right — even your dad wants you gone. He wants me to take over Fairfax Industries. Now that you've given me your name you're completely useless to me, you know that, right?"

She expects this to get a real rise out of them, but instead all she gets is a breathless laugh of disbelief. Arin tosses their suitcase onto the desk and starts throwing things in it haphazardly.

"You really don't know my dad at all," they say. "He doesn't care about you. You're just something he can use. You always were. From the moment we were engaged, you were… oh, fuck, this hurts."

"Ugh, jealousy is such an ugly color on you," Mina says dismissively.

Arin pauses in their clumsy packing to stare at her like they've never seen her before for a few seconds before turning away again.

"I can't be here," they mutter. "This — this place, this family — it's all so fucked. I don't want anything to do with it."

"Oh, boo hoo," Mina says. "As if there's anything better waiting for you out there."

"Anything is better than this," Arin says, shutting their suitcase and staggering over to the open window. Mina watches the drops of blood rolling down their arm and onto the floor and privately laments the waste of perfectly good sustenance. "Anything is better than being here with you."

"Fuck off, Arin," Mina snaps, trying not to let it show that they're getting to her. "A second ago you seemed to be pretty happy to be here with me."

Arin's already got one foot on the windowsill when she says this, but her words hold them in place. They turn their head to look back at her, and for a moment, there's something tender and bruised in the way the light passes over their eyes.

Suddenly Mina feels very sorry for no discernible reason, then gets annoyed at herself for feeling that way, and then gets annoyed at Arin for making her feel that way.

"I was going to run away before the ceremony today," they say. "I stayed because I felt sorry for you. And because I thought that, maybe…"

They trail off, then seem to think better of finishing the sentence.

"You can tell my father you finished the job and buried me," they say instead.

"I don't need your permission," Mina says, still trying her hardest to be mean, although she's beginning to get the distinct feeling that she's no longer winning the interaction. "And I don't need you to feel sorry for me. If you're gonna run away like a little bitch, I don't care. But I need to bring him some proof."

Arin groans like they're in a hurry or something.

"What about the state of this goddamn room? Unless you're planning on licking the blood off all the surfaces, which..."

"Your ring," Mina cuts in sharply. She slips off the bed and crosses the room. "Give me your ring."

Arin gives her a long, hard look. Then they take their hand off their active wound and present it to her, their wedding band now covered in blood.

Mina takes the ring off their finger and before she can say or do anything else, Arin leaps out of the window, coat billowing behind them, and disappears into the sea of darkness below.

She stares out into the night for a while after they're gone. She isn't sure what she's looking out for. Maybe she's waiting to see if they'll come back. They don't, of course. Eventually she turns back to look at the empty room she's found herself in once again.

The smell of blood envelops her and invades all her senses. She sits back down on the bed and looks down at the blood-drenched ring in her hand.

Without thinking she lifts it to her mouth and drags her tongue over it until the metal gleams. When it's clean again she slips it onto her finger, where it settles next to her own wedding band.

Mrs. Mina Fairfax, she thinks to herself, looking out at the dark nothing outside the window. She sits in the silence and waits for morning.