Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

to lock her up. We were about fifteen, I think.”
    “Is she in danger of wandering off?” Evangeline asked, patting his shoulder gently.
    “Sometimes. She is mostly a danger to others. She secreted a knife a year ago and tried to murder one of the servants, a footman. He had done nothing to offend her. She has no inhibitions, she acts without a thought. Fortunately he got away with nothing more than a scar across his cheek.”
    “My God!” Evangeline muttered. “Are you afraid of her?” She shuddered, remembering her own skirmish with the woman.
    “No, only of my own ineptitude in dealing with my affairs and those of my people. They look up to me, you know. The Ravenscrofts have always been leaders in the vampiric community. All my forebears have shown leadership and made this castle a Haven.”
    “A Haven?” she questioned.
    “A safe place for vampires to be who they truly are without having to hide. That is why we hold Court here four times a year.”

    Sanguinarian 193
    “Now I thought we had dispelled that nonsense, my lord. You are not a vampire,” Evangeline scolded.
    Raven tilted his head to look up at her and smiled. “You have been accusing me of being unnatural, of being a vampire, since I met you. Now when I tell you I am one you refuse to believe me.”
    “I suppose I am afraid to believe it.” Evangeline sat quietly for several minutes. She must accept it. It hardly mattered now since he had released her from her forced betrothal. When she really thought about it, being a vampire was not what made him bad-tempered and self-centered. It was just being a man that made him like that. Was he really so different than any other man?
    “You only drink blood from those who give it willingly, you say?”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “Correct me if I am wrong, but you took my blood that first evening when I broke the glass and cut myself.”
    “I was desperate that night.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I only licked what ran out, nothing more. I did not draw blood from you on purpose.”
    “But who would give blood willingly for another to drink?” She could scarcely believe anyone would.
    “A giver ,” Raven whispered. “That is what we call those who love us enough to feed us.”
    “Are you”—she paused—“Are you human?”
    “Evangeline,” he said with an edge of impatience. “We are simply different. There are many different races in the world. Some who look and behave very differently than you or I. Does that make them less worthy? I am a different kind, we are Otherkind .” He paused and his voice softened. “Imagine two banners, one black, one white. Between them, something is revealed. The blending of the dark and the light.
    You are the light and I am the dark. Without my darkness to contrast it your light would not shine. Without your light I would disappear, lost in my own darkness.”

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    Fyn Alexander
    Evangeline watched him carefully. “Which means what, my lord?”
    He smiled dreamily. “Everything in this world has an opposite, dark, light, good, bad, day, night. I prefer the darkness, not just the nighttime, but life’s shadows. It is not that I am evil, but rather that I understand evil is sometimes necessary. I do not fight it.”
    “Then we are irrevocably different.”
    “No, we are not,” he said decisively. “If you cut me, I bleed like you. If you insult me, Evangeline, my feelings are hurt. In short, we are the same.”
    A gentle silence stretched between them until only the sound of their breath could be heard, and it was in unison. Raven whispered,
    “Kiss me, Evangeline.”
    Reticently, she dipped her head until her lips met his. It was the first time she had been the giver of an intimacy between them.
    Everything he had done to her up to now had been forced on her.
    Raven opened his mouth but did not move. He waited and Evangeline thrust her tongue between his lips. She felt bold and yet had no idea how to proceed and drew back.
    With a little sniff Evangeline looked hard at him. “You smell very strongly of oil of cloves and while it is not unpleasant, it is a little overpowering. Yet you say you do not have a toothache.”
    “Shall I tell you since we are sharing so much?” He smiled, making her wonder if he was being sarcastic. “Oil of cloves numbs the tongue and helps to reduce blood cravings.”
    Evangeline froze.
    “That frightens you?” Raven asked. “I have already told you I take blood only from those who give it willingly. I