Dermot walked quickly through the desolate streets, a car or small group of drunken people passing occasionally. The ones he had fed from were young, and their blood, like their bodies was strong. And then there were the drugs! He was having trouble keeping his eyes fully open, and he couldn't keep the smile from his face. If it didn't wear off soon, he may have to dilute the drugged-blood with another's. He needed a clear head if he was to follow through with his intentions. The thought sobered him up. He had done his best to conceal his plans from the others. He had given them all a final taste of his blood, and his love. It would hurt them too much if they knew what he was about to do.

He reached home and walked slowly up the driveway, seeing the house in a new light. It had always been beautiful to him, and had been home for more than one human lifetime, but now it meant something else to him. It wasn't where he had just lived; it was where he had lived with them. But he couldn't do it anymore. It was time to end it. As he opened the front door, he was struck by the strains of Mozart's serenade number 13 in G major. He followed the music cautiously, eventually finding himself outside the study where he had immolated Evelyn. Slowly he opened the door, feeling the apprehension rise in him. His eyes rested on the lifeless, drained corpse of Lachlan.

Evelyn stood before the stereo, his back to Dermot. His beautiful brown hair was immaculate; the black dye, dirt and dust burnt out of it by the fire. It seemed a sin for it to be lying against such horribly burnt and blackened skin. His form was hardly recognisable, and his flesh was cracked, weeping a clear fluid in places. He turned, his body making a sickening crunching sound as he did so. A few flakes of burnt skin fell to the carpet as he folded his arms across his chest. Evelyn looked up at Dermot from behind his curtain of hair. His eyes seemed impossibly white, gazing at Dermot from their scorched sockets. What remained of his lips formed a smile, his exposed teeth gleaming white like his eyes. He walked slowly to Dermot, not once flinching or gasping in pain. He stopped just before Dermot, placed his black skeletal hands on Dermot's shoulders, and gripped them fiercely. The stench of Evelyn's charred body filled Dermot's lungs.

Evelyn's smile became mischievous, and he kissed Dermot softly. Dermot kissed him back, tasting the ash and smoke in Evelyn's mouth. He placed his hand on the back of Evelyn's neck, feeling the warmth and roughness of his skin. Dermot drew away, placing his hands gently on the sides of Evelyn's face.
Evelyn smiled. "I've been waiting for you."
Dermot nodded slowly, his lips trembling slightly. "I'm sorry, I had to--"
Evelyn silenced him, placing a finger gently on his lips. It slowly moved into Dermot's mouth to stroke his fangs. "Not now. I don't want to talk."
Dermot, pulling the hand away, whispered weakly. "But--"
"Not now." Evelyn frowned. "You're worried. Don't be. I'm cleansed now. And hungry."

Dermot smiled. "Come here. I've fed enough for both of us."
Evelyn needed little convincing, wanting desperately to once again be caught in the thrall of blood. He placed his seared lips to Dermot's throat, his fangs piercing the cold skin. The blood came thick and fast, a seemingly endless fount from which he could drink.
"Subservient." He whispered against Dermot's neck, and Dermot smiled before finally forcing him away. Evelyn's head spun wildly as he tried desperately to focus on Dermot's face. He closed his eyes, beginning to feel his skin tingle and heal. Dermot took a few deep breaths before giving his wrist to Evelyn. Evelyn turned away.
Dermot frowned. "Drink. You need the blood."
"I can't." His voice was barely a whisper.
Dermot bit his wrist and forced it into Evelyn's mouth. "Drink."
Evelyn felt the rush of blood anew. He drank until Dermot pulled away again, then passed out.

Dermot smiled down at him as he clamped his hand over the wound on his wrist. It healed quickly, allowing him to pull Evelyn into a sitting position. Dermot leant back against the couch, taking a few moments to rest before they continued on their way. Glancing at Evelyn, he smiled. It had worked. Everything was going to turn out fine. He roused himself, and went to the phone. He dialled the number and waited.
"David. I need the car, now."
With that he hung up and began to gather his things. He had planned this down to the last detail, but he had never expected that it would actually follow through. In a few minutes everything he felt he needed was in a bag beside a still unconscious Evelyn. That was something he had not planned on. This may prove to be a little difficult. Just as he was trying to decide how he would get Evelyn into the car, there came a knock at the door. He opened it to find a tired and somewhat dazed looking David in the hallway.

"Sir, the car is ready."
"Good, David. Now I need you to help. My friend here is ill and we're taking him to his doctor." He let David follow him into the room.
David looked at the insensate form of Evelyn, concerned. "Is he going to be alright?"
"Yes, David, but only if we get him to his doctor. It's a very rare condition and he must see a specialist. We must hurry."
David froze suddenly. "What happened to Lachlan?"
Dermot's eyes widened. He'd forgotten about the bloody corpse! Taking a deep breath, he forced David to look at him. He would have to do a little more mind bending tonight. "David, Lachlan is sleeping, he needs to be put to bed. Do you understand?"
David's glassy eyes stared blankly at Dermot, but he nodded in comprehension.
"Help me carry him there, David." They carried Lachlan quickly to his room and deposited his body in his bed. Dermot pulled David out of the room and back to Evelyn.

Once they were in the study, Dermot brought David out of the trance. "David, we need to get him to his doctor."
David blinked, then nodded, sensing urgency. "Yes Sir."
Dermot slung the bag over his shoulder and slid his hands underneath Evelyn's arms and around his chest. He nodded for David to grab the feet. They carried Evelyn down to the car, Dermot bearing most of the weight, which, given Evelyn's slight frame, was not much. Easing him into the back seat, Dermot gave David an address.
Once Evelyn was safely propped up, Dermot slid in beside him and David sat behind the wheel. As they drove, Dermot began to really think about what he was doing. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of Cyrus, Pierce and Elspeth. If he really wanted to he could turn this car around, dispose of Evelyn and pretend none of this ever happened. But he didn't really want to. As much as he loved them, it couldn't overpower what he felt for Evelyn.

Although he hated to admit it, he needed Evelyn as much as the blood. When he had made Evelyn it wasn't just the creation of another like himself; it was the creation of a companion, a soul mate. Then the bastard had left him. He had given Evelyn the greatest gift imaginable, had loved him completely, and he had simply trotted back home and killed his wife. Then he'd spent two hundred years cursing Dermot's name and killing the others. He should be angry, Dermot knew that, but he couldn't. He couldn't blame Evelyn for most of it anyway. Besides, no matter what Evelyn did, it couldn't change his feelings. "Christ." He bit his thumb, gently drawing on the blood in an attempt to calm himself. He looked at the body beside him with tear filled eyes.
A blue eye flickered open. "Why are you crying?"

Dermot jumped, startled by Evelyn's sudden awakening.
"Stop it. Come here." Evelyn weakly stretched out an arm to encircle Dermot.
Dermot rested his head on Evelyn's shoulder.
Evelyn smiled. "You belong to me... Mine... Subservient..." His voice trailed off like a drunken man's as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
Dermot smiled, whispering more to himself than to Evelyn. "I know. I haven't belonged to anyone else since I made you: when I took your life and gave you mine." He smiled at his realisation. That was exactly what it had been. He had given his life to Evelyn, but now he had it back. Now he had him back. Nothing else mattered. Nothing about the last two centuries meant a thing. He was himself again, and he could do everything he planned to do without trouble or regret.

"We're here, Sir."
David's voice roused him from his thoughts. He opened the door and slid out, dragging Evelyn with him. He placed Evelyn safely on the ground and turned to David.
David looked at him confused. "Aren't you taking him to his doctor?"
Dermot smiled. "No David. But I need you to listen to me very carefully." He gazed deep into David's blood-shot eyes. "Get back in the car David."
David blinked a few times before climbing back into the car. He stared vacantly through the windshield as he closed the door.
"Very good, David. Now start the car." Dermot picked Evelyn back up, starting to walk away. He closed his eyes, concentrating. As the car burst into flames, he smiled slightly. "Go with God, David."

He carried Evelyn to a nearby phone and called a cab. It would take them to a private plane he had organised under a different name. Pierce, Cyrus and Elspeth would think he had died in the car with David, and would soon get along without him. It would hurt them in the beginning, but they were strong and they had each other. When they found the body of Lachlan, they wouldn't think too much of it. Perhaps they would assume that he had died after Dermot had taken too much blood, that Dermot had gone for a drive to deal with his problems, and tragedy had struck. No, he need not worry about them any longer. In time they would just be pleasant memories, at least that was what he hoped. As the headlights of the cab hit them, Dermot glanced again at Evelyn. Pleasant memories. Soon they would be flown away from this place, away from their past.

Evelyn opened his eyes slowly, blinking slightly. Dermot leant over him, his pale face beautifully illuminated by the soft candlelight.
Evelyn sat up, leaning against the head of the large bed. "Where are we?"
Dermot looked to the window on the other side of the room. "Not important, love. Come, look at yourself. You're flawless once again." He took Evelyn's hand, leading him to a full-length mirror. Evelyn inspected himself in the mirror, as Dermot looked over his shoulder. Dermot smiled. "See, darling, how perfect you are?"
Evelyn turned and kissed Dermot softly, before looking back at himself. "I want to know now, I have to ask. Why did you do it?"

Dermot rested his chin on Evelyn's shoulder, sighing quietly. "You killed Kit. He was my lover, Evelyn, vengeance was expected of me. If I'd done nothing there would have been an uproar. Also, I wanted to put the fear of God into you." Dermot smiled at Evelyn in the mirror. "Although, I don't really think I succeeded." His smile faded. "I did it so I could have you, without the others knowing. They would never have understood. They would never have allowed it. I did it because I love you."
Evelyn smiled.
Dermot frowned a little, then asked in a voice that wasn't completely steady. "Why are you still here, with me? I don't think I'd find it in my heart to forgive one who'd tried to--"
Evelyn placed a finger on Dermot's lips, silencing him. "That's because you're a heartless bastard, my dearest, darling..." He thrust the knife he'd secretly picked up from the untouched fruit platter towards Dermot.

Dermot knocked it out of the way with preternatural speed, but cut his hand in doing so. He grabbed Evelyn by the wrists and forced him against the wall. Dermot smiled fiendishly. "My poor naive boy. Still trying to kill me?"
Evelyn smiled back, licking the blood from the small wound on Dermot's hand. "Always."
Dermot squeezed his wrists tighter. "Well then, this should be most entertaining. Constantly presented with the threat of death at the hands of my beloved. This could go on for centuries."
Evelyn, finished with the blood, relaxed and watched Dermot passively. "I like you. I may grow to love you. You're interesting enough to keep around. But there's always the possibility that I might tire of you. Always that danger, looming above us. But it sucks you in, doesn't it? You can't resist it can you?"
Dermot smiled, kissing his forehead tenderly. "Like a moth to a candle flame."